It's A Wrap Ch. 01

Chapter 1 - A star is born

'Cut, It's a wrap,' the cameraman shouts. The room lights flicker on and the spots dim. The crew busy themselves with their equipment, Ben and the other guys quickly dress and Jack collects his cloths from the back of a make-shift directors chair. I look disheveled and feel totally dejected, still woozy from the chloroform. After being the centre of attention I'm now left alone to fend for himself. Thick cum dribbles from my arse as I subconsciously scoop a pair of crumpled lace panties off the floor. I recognise them immediately having been recently torn from my girlish hips in one of the hottest gay scenes Ben had ever filmed. For modesty I step delicately into them as Jack looks up and smiles.

'Can't find my trousers,' I moan. 'Some bastards nicked all my things.'

Jack fondles his bulging cock though his jeans, zips his fly and tosses me the matching bra. 'You'd better dress back in this then or you'll catch your death.' I hesitate unsure what to do but with my hair in pig-tails, my body shaved, my butt sore and the past couple of hours of sissy abuse still etched on my mind I felt strangely submissive and compelled to dress like a woman. I stoop to pick the delicate bra up and as I do so... whomp! a lighting technician smacks my pantie covered butt, hard. The cameraman laughs as I reluctantly clip it round his waist.

'My, you do look pretty for a piece of shit whore.' Jack shouts throwing a glance at the cameraman and Ben. 'Yea, so good, dress him in a bikini and I could get the little cunt bitch a spot in any lads magazine.' Ben laughs nodding. 'He's the best you've bought me.'

I guess you might think I'm mad but rather than be repulsed I secretly loved the idea of being photographed and ogled at. Yet I wasn't sure if they were kidding. 'Stop it,' I moan, 'enough is enough.'

But they didn't stop and the room fills with their raucous laughter.

I was confused - The thought of wearing matching panties and bra would have been unthinkable a few hours ago but now, slipping my slender arms into the spaghetti straps seemed the most natural thing to do.

'Oh!' I sigh savoring the coolness of the panties and the tightness of the bra as I look once more for my clothes. Bewildered and unsure what to do next I mince around the crew as they expertly dismantle the set and pack away their equipment. Jack chats to the cameramen as an unshaven studio hand roughly pinches my fleshy butt and points with a grimy hand to a stunning black mini dress hanging on a rail.

'That's yours darling,' he smirks slapping my butt in a demeaning way. 'Help yourself to the artists wardrobe,' he winks, 'It's your size. We bought it for your porno audition. We just never got round to dressing you in it.'

I look at it carefully. It says cock sucking bitch all over it.

'We won't be needing it again today. Just make sure you bring anything you borrow back.' He looks at Ben who nods affirmatively.

Feeling the cold I look to where he points. I had no idea what to expect but as the crew load their trucks outside the warehouse a cold wind whips around the studio and goose pimples spring up over my smooth, hairless body. I shiver. The artists wardrobe didn't offer much choice; a shoulder length blonde wig, some skimpy thongs, a transparent baby-doll, a red PVC mini skirt that resembled a wide belt, thigh-length red leather lace-up boots and a few pairs of dangerously high heels. I rummage further, searching for either my missing jeans or at least a pair of trousers.

'Hey! Cock sucker, You won't find anything other than faggot clothes there,' the unshaven man snorts.

He's right.

'I'd like to see you in the dress, faggot,' he shouts aggressively giving me an encouraging nudge. I try to ignore his cry. 'Perhaps you'd prefer the black leather cat suit and bondage harness,' he laughs hysterically.

Feeling pressured I reluctantly unhook the dress. Yet I'm lured to it like a moth to a zillion-watt light bulb.

'Good girl,' he coos, 'I knew you wouldn't be able to resist such a girly garment. Now squeeze your pretty butt into it so we can all see.

Black and of a soft stretchy material. It was very sexy, the sort of dress a hooker desperate for a lay would wear. I shrug my shoulders and look down at my feminised, shaven body. With little choice I hold my breath and step into the tight dress marveling how it stretches as it covers my curves. As I suspect it fits like a glove as I drew it up over my slender thighs, I wiggle my hips, pull it over my narrow waist and slip my willowy arms through the tight sleeves. I felt wonderful, like a curvy young woman in a eye-wateringly skimpy outfit. The sort of outfit that had the words 'fuck me' on the back. Yet something wasn't right, I felt uncomfortable with my flat, deflated chest. Yes, I still wore the large cupped bra but the dress deserved to be filled with melon sized tits. I felt the need for a curvaceous body, I wanted the material stretched tightly over a huge womanly chest. I desperately wanted to boost my bust size. I look around the pile of clothes and to my surprise find some large gel-filled inserts. Delighted with my discovery I pack them into the lacy cups as if stuffing a turkey. The man slobbers like a bull-dog, scans me with his beady eyes and grins appreciatively as I knead them like bakers dough until they resemble an impressive pair of bulging tits. Satisfied, and now aware of an audience I sit on a stool, stretch my long slender legs and provocatively slid some sheer tights slowly up my smooth legs to the music that still played.

'Mmm!' They rasp deliciously and smelt so clean and fresh and felt remarkably comfortable compared to my rough dirty jeans. So good I soon forgot about their loss, despite being my only decent pair. Finally in front of my cock hard onlookers I carefully smooth the black lycra dress down with the palms of my hands, pausing deliberately at each major curve and step delicately into a pair of towering 4" heels. Which in itself was no mean feat unless I wanted to show my pretty panties.

What happened next came as a total surprise. Was it the after effects of the chloroform or my butt bursting full of male sperm, my stretched sphincter or the salty taste of cock still lingering in my mouth that made the situation right? I didn't know but a wash of strange emotions flew over me. I didn't feel like poor diminutive, student Alex but more like wealthy, beautiful princess Alexia. Yet still something wasn't quite right! I felt my long bleached blonde hair that been tightly tied into two pig-tails either side of my head. I look at the artists rail again. Then I saw it. A beautiful shoulder-length wig. Delighted, I carefully picked it up and stretched it over my head. 'Perfect,' I mutter as if a high paid actress dressing for her starring role. As if in support I heard the guys gasp and with my transformation complete my body began to ache with excitement and my little cock hardened until it felt fit to burst.

Sadly my imaginative princess was just a figment of my imagination as rather than an elegant and beautiful young lady I looked like a cheap whore. But I didn't care. I felt beautiful and sexy. Encased in the tight fitting lycra I posed, chest-out with lips puckered to Jack and all the guys.

'Is this what you wanted to see boys?' I cry. They clap enthusiastically and as an encore I merrily prance around the studio swinging my hips provocatively, stooping at the waist flashing my long slender legs and frilly lace panties at all the workforce. I must have looked a picture as they stood open mouthed, mesmerised to the spot.

Yes I'd been set up and used as a girly porn star but now everything seemed right. I knew I looked frighteningly beautiful and now fully dressed I felt comfortable and sexy. I wanted to flirt outrageously, suck cock, have sex and be filmed in yet another x rated hot episode as 'piece of shit whore,' award winning blond bombshell. Yikes! What had become of me? Then it hit me like an express train as I laid on the mattress kicking my long legs in the air, flashing my gusset like Marlyn Monroe. I realised how Jack made his cash and how I too, if I play my cards right, could kiss my money worries goodbye. Like a women on a mission I pick myself up and flirt outrageously with the director Ben, fluttering my eyelids and touching his forearm gently.

'Baby,' I purr, ' I could be your star. Let me know when you want me again. Would you do that for me?' I try to be incredibly sexy, mouthing each word slowly with my brightly painted glossy lips. It worked.

'You're a top dog. I need a ‘piece of shit whore’ like you. Here's a bonus.' And to my surprise he stuffs another hundred dollars down my cleavage. 'Call it an advance. Buy yourself something pretty and I'll be in touch with Jack when I've another script. Stick with me bitch and you'll be earning a thousand dollars a week from your tight butt.'

I shook my head in disbelief as suddenly I felt my butt pinched yet again. I twirl round to see Jack grinning like a Cheshire cat.

'Ben's right, Alex you're a fucking stunner... for a faggot,' he says, his eyes sparkling with lust. 'You may not know it but you're amazing. Where have you been all your life. You've kept yourself well hidden but you shouldn't. Now… what are you doing for the rest of the night? A faggot like you needs to be taken out.'