When you want to make it as an actor you have to take any advantage you can get. And in an industry where beauty is prized above all else I was really left with no other choice.
The clinic is hidden, talked about in whispers. For a small fortune they can change you into whatever you need to be, and I walked in with a plan.
Handsome, muscular, a leading man. That was what I wanted, but what I got was so far from that change.
They must have made a mistake because this body is soft and feminine. This body is anything but a leading man. This body is a woman.
I have a chance though, a chance to prove that I’m just as good as I think that I am. I mean what more of a test could I take on then to play this part, to become someone so far outside of my experience? I want to prove that I have what it takes to play any part.
But I can’t deny the feelings and the urges in this body. Standing here opposite this handsome casting agent I can’t deny that my body is craving him. Craving the hard touch of his hands on my soft body.
I can’t give in. I need to hold out. I can’t be wanting this, even though I know that I need it so badly.
Excerpt
I was flirting with him, yes I was flirting with him. I knew that he liked me and I wanted to use that to my advantage. The way he looked at me told me enough, told me that he couldn’t really look away from me, and I figured that maybe if he was right here in front of me I could use what I had on hand to get him maybe a little closer than even that.
“Okay,” he said carefully, knowing he shouldn’t but not being able to resist my coy little pout. He pushed up out of his chair and came around the table to take his place opposite me.
I was struck by how tall he was, how much of a presence he had. This man seemed to fill up the room, and I felt so tiny beneath him.
And I was struck by the urge to touch him as well, to see if the glances of his hard body beneath his suit were true and real. I was wondering whether he was everything he appeared to be, whether he was everything my new body wanted him to be.
Focusing hard we ran through the scene one last time, and this time when we got to my climactic line I reached out to touch his face and caress his cheek as he stood right there in front of me.
And though the script said he stormed out he didn’t move. Though the script said I was left alone, the truth of what happened was anything but that case.
Instead, I found myself moving into him. I found my eyes closing and quite against any conscious decision I was making I found myself kissing him, then continuing to kiss him, then pressing my body against his as a whimper escaped my lips and passed through his.
His arms closed around me, touching me and pulling me into him. Where his hands touched me I melted, mewling as he closed around me and held me tight.
It was odd, the sensations running through me, so strong and yet so foreign. So very different from what I had expected or experienced to this point.
Except they weren’t really, were they? These were the same sensations that drove me out of that laundry room in a panic at the sight of an attractive man, that made me strip out of that coat and pleasure myself, that made my fantasies run wild.
And I don’t think they were a result of simply being in this body.
This body enhanced things and sensations, but those feelings were mine and mine alone. How else would they feel so right and so very powerful? How else could they be so overwhelmingly needy?
This was me controlling this. Me making this happen.
“Yes,” I moaned into him, my hands reaching up to snake and tangle themselves in his hair at the back of his head. I pulled him down onto me as I pushed myself up into him, pressing my tongue into his mouth with an insistent force and presence that showed him what I wanted.