The following is a fictional parody, not approved of, nor authorized by, the celebrities named.
None of the events are true.
This fictitious parody is protected speech under Hustler Magazine, Inc., et. al. v. Jerry Falwell.
No harm is intended toward the celebrities named.
Furthermore, publication of any and all trademarks contained herein are not authorized by, associated with, nor sponsored by the trademark owners.
~~~
The Makeup Artist
by Stephanie Rose
(A sexy makeup artist loves her celebrity clients.)
~~~
Chapter 8.5: Beyoncé Knowles apologizes to Janet Jackson.
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"All right everyone! Ms. Jackson doesn't have all day! Lunch time's over, so let's get back to rehearsal!"
Facing the mirrored wall in the spacious dance studio, Danté Zane watched as twelve scantily-clad dancers slowly lined up behind him.
Noticing their sluggish pace, he clapped his hands soundly. "Come on, people! Let's go, let's go! Chop, chop!"
Danté watched as the dancers perked up only slightly as they began to stretch their lithe and toned limbs. He even noticed a few of them yawning.
Then he looked around the spacious practice room and noticed Janet's other team members working diligently on the sidelines.
He noticed Krystal Pennington, Janet's lead makeup artist, sketching various looks on a large sheet of paper while talking with Melinda Paul and Ramón Luiz, Janet's hairstylists. Also, Janet's wardrobe coordinator, Sophia Duvalier, was busy consulting with the sewers and the tailors about Janet's new costumes. He even noticed the small group of musicians in the very back of the room quietly reviewing their sheet music.
Danté quickly realized that out of all of the people in the room, his dancers were the working the least.
Irritated, he turned around and faced Janet's dance team. "All right everyone," he began sharply, "I already showed you the first part of the routine before we broke for lunch. Now while Janet finishes up her meeting in the office upstairs, let me show you the second part, okay?"
"Sure, Danté," a light, feminine voice called out. Janet's dance team captain, Caprice Bristow, a fit, dark-chocolate colored beauty with long, black hair pulled into a low ponytail, then turned to the rest of the group. "Let's get it together, y'all," she said. "Come on now, let's go."
"Thanks, Caprice." He looked around. "Okay. Let's get in position."
The rest of the dancers nodded listlessly and moved into a V-formation. As a further distraction, the bright, sizzling-hot Atlanta sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, making them that much more lazy and lethargic.
Danté spun around, scowling. "Alright, y'all. I know we've been at this since seven this morning. And it's now," he glanced at the clock, "it's now almost one. But we still have a lot more routines to cover. And as the lead choreographer, Janet's looking for me to make sure y'all are on point. So let's get it together, please?"
Just then, a light voice rang out. "Danté? Let me talk to them for a moment, okay?"
Everyone turned to see the slim, Grammy award-winning, caramel-colored goddess standing in the doorway.
"Of course, Janet," Danté said, stepping back graciously. "The floor is yours." He turned to the dancers. "Everybody, listen up!"
Dressed in a navy-blue sweatshirt cut just below her firm, rounded breasts, Janet's taut midsection was on full display. Her delicious honeyed-caramel skin looked absolutely soft and silky. Her long, dark hair was pulled up into a girlishly-cute top ponytail, but the gorgeous beauty before them was all woman.
Though she wore minimal makeup, her sparkling eyes and bright smile were all the enhancements she needed. She'd added a light coat of mascara and a light gloss on her lips, but her natural beauty could have easily allowed her to go barefaced and have the exact same exotic allure.
Her gray sweatpants were loose and baggy, but they couldn't hide her sturdy back, which gently swayed into her tight, rounded tush. As she moved, everyone in the room paused to admire her graceful, fluid gait.
"Hey everybody," she said softly as she walked to the center of the room.
"Hey," they whispered in unison, visibly star-struck.
"I know y'all are tired," she said. "But I need to make sure this choreography is tight for the tour. So bear with me, okay?"
Everyone nodded, visibly perked up with excitement of seeing their favorite musical icon, even though it'd only been an hour since they'd seen her last.
"Ok," Janet smiled as she took her place in front of the mirror, right next to Danté. "Let's start back with the old school medley, where we left off before lunch. The first part of, 'What Have You Done For Me Lately,' okay?"
Danté nodded and motioned to the young woman standing across the room at the CD player. The assistant cued up the music, and in an instant, the hard drums began, followed by the slick keyboard.
Danté raised his hand. "One, two...one, two, three, hit it!"
On cue, they launched into the routine. Bodies gyrating, they glided across the floor in intricate formations, rolling in time with the pounding beats. Their fit, trim and incredibly sexy bodies, now glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, pumped and rocked all over the floor.
Janet lost herself in the rhythm, her body following the intricate choreography, but still giving her own personal flair to the moves. Her dark hair whipped around her face, but she was too in tune with the music to notice.
She rolled her hips and waist, grinding her body into the space she occupied. Her lithe and toned arms and legs followed suit, making her entire body a sensuous, sensual entity whose sole purpose was to entice and coax the audience into an erotic frenzy.
All of the other people in the room were struck silent with the erotic display. And while all of the dancers kept up with Janet's seductive moves, the entire room couldn't help but be focused only on her. All they could see was her pretty face, now fixed with a steely resolve, her skin, now gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat, her rolling hips and her tight ass and thighs.
Then all of the dancers split into pairs and their bodies began to twist and wind around each other. Sweat began to drop from their lithe bodies as they snaked around each other, creating a steamy-hot, sensuous rhythm.
All of a sudden, they began a series of sharp, precise moves. The dancers struggled to keep up with Janet's brusque, military-style. Dancing for several minutes, the group finally reached the bridge of the song.
Danté held up his hand. "Now, right here, Jan, on this beat, I want to add in a new move: a hip roll. Like this."
He rolled his midsection in luscious, tight circles for four beats, then extended his leg to the side and dropped down; continuing the seductive rolls low, almost down to the floor.
"Try that," he said, standing upright and wiping the sweat from his brow.
With intricate precision, she duplicated his movements, rolling her hips seductively, then extended her leg and dropped her body, rolling her hips.
"Yeah, Jan," he said. "Just like that. Looking good!"
