A Charmed Life

 22/25

Cole was a bad boy. Or at least that is what he wanted Hollywood to think. He was chasing the dream, trying to make it big as the modern big screen reincarnation of James Dean. Unfortunately, he couldn't act. Not that it deterred him – nowadays it wasn't about talent, you just needed the look – the million dollar gaze, the charm or as the French say – the 'je nais se quois'! Nevertheless, Cole bounced from failed audition to failed audition without pause to refine his skills but rather many an afternoon shopping to improve his look.

In was on one of these excursions that he spotted the skull pendant decorating a mannequin in the window of Gloria Honeypot's Emporium of Fun and Folly. He was immediately drawn to the charm and rushed inside to purchase it. Sadly, when he removed it from the brown paper bag and threw it around his neck, it was the skull and not Cole that enjoyed the fit.

From that moment forth, the budding actor was but a passenger in his own body. The pendant was his new producer, director and indeed makeup and wardrobe as Cole found himself dragged along on further shopping trips to update his style to that of a Downtown Hollywood bimbo. All his internal screaming had no effect on the actions his body took even as he toured Los Angeles's plastic surgery clinics. His meat prison was decorated with silicon, collagen and synthetic hair as the necklace possessed him to have breast and butt implants, his lips filled and his face reshaped, and extensions added to the top of his head while the rest of his body hair was lasered off. In three short months, he had become a buxom babe with a mountain of debt and the only trace of his old life being a hairless penis shrivelled by hormone injections sleeping between a pair of soft creamy thighs.

It was a month later and Cole was perched on the edge of a sofa waiting for his latest audition. A door opened and his body automatically straightened his back and pushed out his chest, stretching the painfully tight corset torturing his waist even further. However, it was just the secretary that had signed him in and taken his absurd fur coat. She grunted at him disapprovingly and placed a pocket sized packet of tissues on the coffee table in front on him.

“You'll need those,” she said humourlessly. “Also, I hope your makeup is waterproof. I'm sick of picking false-eyelashes out of the couch.” She departed leaving Cole to his own despair. He could already feel his loins firing, instructed by the awful thing around his neck. By now he was merely a ridiculous puppet and the pendant pulled the strings. If the pendant wanted to answer a casting call, he was going to answer a casting call. If the pendant wanted him to be the new star of Shemale Gangbang Sluts 2021, he was going to be the new star of Shemale Gangbang Sluts 2021. And, if the pendant wanted him to enjoy it...well... Cole panted involuntarily in anticipation.