Mr. Rudy
Keywords: Mr., Rudy,
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She couldn't help but see that pretty actress in the mirror whenever she looked. Tall, slim, long hair, large, blue eyes. If she'd had pointed ears, she would have looked exactly as the actress did in that movie epic.
But Liv wasn't an elvish princess, nor was she that actress. She simply looked like her.
Liv stood before the mirror, studying herself. She had just come from her morning shower and wore only a towel wrapped about her slender body, her hair, normally reaching the small of her back, was up in yet another towel. She would have smiled but could not. Unwrapping her towel, she let it slide to the floor around her feet. Her eyes went automatically to the place which held such disgust, such dishonor.
A small, limp penis hung from her hairless crotch and below and behind, a fleshy sac. She saw her testicles moving upward in the now chilled and shriveling scrotum and she reached quickly down and pushed these two parts of her down and back between her smooth thighs. She clamped them there and then stood straight again, looking at her now completely feminine appearance.
Still, she could not make herself smile. Stooping, she retrieved the towel at her feet, draped it over her shoulder and went to get dressed.
Tonight's show was for international vip's, and she still wanted a little more time to rehearse.
None of the other girls in the revue were jealous of Liv's naturally feminine appearance; there was good-natured ribbing and joking amongst them but they always laughed together. Each of them had their own stories, their own transformation tales and knew quite well Liv's own. It was an accident of birth that had caused the tall, dark-haired beauty to have the natural curves and contours of a true woman and the other dancers could never find it within themselves to make fun of their friend or to put her down in any way.
"You should do it, you know...." Angela said to Liv. They were both sitting at their dressing tables, putting on their makeup.
"Oh, not the ears thing again," Liv grumbled. Angela nodded into her mirror, eyes turned to Liv's reflection. "I'd look stupid."
"You'd look like her," Angela said. "Exactly like her."
"Who wants to? I mean, there's already one of her in the world; that should be enough."
Angela shook her head and looked back at herself, touching up some uneven powder on her cheek. "You know who I'd want to look like - if I could?"
Liv shook her head, now concentrating on her lashes.
"That girl from Psycho," Angela said.
"Janet Leigh?" Liv said. "Yes, she's just so completely gorgeous!"
"No, the other Psycho," Angela said. "The second one."
"Oh with that small little actress girl," Liv said. "Yah, she's adorably cute. Mixed race too. Her sister's in those horror and comedy movies now, right?" Angela nodded.
"Yah, her," she said. She sat back from the mirror to check her overall appearance, then leaned in again and picked up the lip gloss brush.
"If I had a choice," Liv said almost absently, "I wouldn't be so damned tall."
"Well, she's tall," Angela said, pouting to refine the line of her lips.
"Will you stop it with what's her name already?" Liv said rolling her eyes. "Geeze, you know?"
"So you'd be...how tall?" Angela asked. She sat back again and seemed satisfied with her work.
"Five-seven or something maybe," Liv said. "Maybe five-six? I really like how that Star Wars girl looks.
"Princess something or other?" Angela said. "She's tiny though. She's like five-one or something. Real petite."
"That would be me," Liv said. "And if nature would've made up her mind when I was born, that would've been even better I think." Liv felt a little warmth behind her eyes and quickly grabbed a tissue to blot any 'spills' up. She took a breath and calmed herself, then pushed her chair back and stood. She looked down at Angela, who was now staring up at her.
"That would have been really neat," she said, and then she turned and left the dressing room. A few moments later there was the loud, thunderous sound of the intro music from the stage and Angela jumped up and ran out to get into place.
The extra rehearsal had given Liv a little more confidence. In general she wasn't as sure of herself as others were of themselves and tended to work harder at everything she did to compensate.
She sat now at the makeup table, patting perspiration from her brow. There was the normal happy chatter of the rest of the performers, but Liv felt quite alone. She stopped and sat back in her chair, staring at her reflection while she reflected. The rehearsal had been a good one, quite a workout, but at a certain point in her routine she had become somehow more aware of herself - of her breathing, her racing heart, and the rest of her body. The sense of self had been so strong she had almost lost her place in the music, and it remained with her for the rest of the rigorous hour of practice and run-throughs. It was with her even now as she sat there, contemplating who and what she was.
A sham, she thought to herself. Nothing but a look-alike. No originality. Nothing but a face like someone else's and a body to match. A woman who wasn't a woman. Not truly.
While others, especially her colleagues, paid vast amounts of money to keep up appearances or to sometimes change them permanently, Liv simple was what she had always been.
A freak!
The word stuck in her throat, almost as if in a scream. She remembered the taunting words, the faces, the laughter at her expense.
Not so long ago.
They'd called her that name - and many others - all through her young life. Then a hand touched her gently on the shoulder and she started and almost yelped.
"Don't be thinking all those dark thoughts, Long Legs," Liv's best friend Kate whispered. Liv turned her head and looked up the length of the pretty arm, to the face which was now beaming down at her. A smile spread across Kate's exquisitely made up face and it contagiously spread to Liv's own.
"I guess I was pouting again," Liv said, and Kate nodded.
"And on you, a pout just about breaks my heart," Kate whispered. Then there was a cheer and a clapping of hands from the other side of the dressing room, and Liv and Kate went to go see what had happened.
Shirley, the manager of the club, was standing there, beaming at everyone. She turned slowly, holding up the poster for the night's show. Everyone was represented but in the center was a picture of Liv, standing in her slinky silver side-slit evening gown, left leg exposed.
She hated that photo.
Shirley smiled directly at Liv and leaned closer.
"Mr. Madison requests a very special performance tonight, Liv," the older woman said, and Liv felt a wave of nausea go through her. Madison was the owner of the club. As the newest member of the troupe, Liv had been the most recent center of the old man's affections. She had performed fellatio on him directly after the first interview, but it was not the only time she had swallowed her pride as well as the man's rather copious amount of ejaculant. She nodded at Shirley and turned to go back to her table. "It's...it's not like that, sweety," Shirley added. Liv stopped and turned.
"Mr. Madison would like you to perform especially well for one of the guests tonight," Shirley said, and then turned and left the room. The other girls stood around, some still holding onto the new poster, all staring at Liv.
Liv finally returned to her chair and slumped in it. Tears welled in her eyes and she let them roll down her cheeks. The other girls left her alone, all of them quite familiar with how things went in their small little community.
As always, Liv knelt before the toilet, vomiting over and over again. It was just ten minutes before she was due to go onstage and it felt like everything she had ever eaten in her life was now coming out all at once. Another convulsive wave went through her but nothing came out. She was empty, done, through. Her face felt numb as did her fingers. She coughed and sniffled, tore a strip of toilet paper off the roll and sat back on her heels to wipe her mouth and nose.
"Baby-girl?" Kate asked through the stall door. "I'd ask you if you were alright, but I know you're not. Just...just try not to think of it, okay?" Liv nodded even knowing her friend couldn't see her. She nodded again, blew her nose, and staggered to her feet. She smoothed her hair, unlocked the door and came out. Kate looked worried.
"You look like shit, okay?" Kate said, rubbing Liv's shoulders. Liv nodded and allowed herself to be helped back to the makeup table. She sat and began putting her final makeup on. Then the feeling of weakness and dread left her. The stagefright that had always plagued her, even before her professional career had begun, began to drift away. Her hands worked purposefully, expertly, and in moments she stood tall. Undoing her robe, she took it off, laying it carefully over the back of the chair. Without a word she strode out of the dressing room, down the hall and made it to the stairs right as her music began to play. She took a breath, stepped out of her slippers and mounted the stairs, barefoot and nude but for an almost invisible catch-ring and filament which held her genitals up under her crotch and between her legs. The downbeat hit and Liv pranced out to center stage and began her routine.
The special guest felt a stirring in his crotch the moment the spotlight hit the new dancer. She was the spitting image of the actress he had so long cherished. His wealth was undeniable, expansive, but it was denied by the real actress not so long ago when he had had his people approach her and ask her to be a guest on his private island in the Caribbean for a weekend. She had refused the offer, somewhere in the six figure range, and the man had nodded in appreciation of her sense of self. Still, he longed to be with someone so fair, so lovely and sweet and now, through some chance of genetics and his network of watchers he would now have what he wanted.
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Keywords: Mr., Rudy,