The role of a lifetime 12

Sat alone in the office of Winston Cummings, Britt waited anxiously for the door to open where he would discover his fate. As he fidgeted about with his dress, he looked around at his surroundings, a large mostly empty room with windows all along the right wall, facing out into the street. The only furniture, a large oak desk that dominated the space and a small but comfortable cushioned chair, in with Britt now sat, looking down at his shinning legs encased in sheer tights, and wondering if the short tight gold dress, Natalia had picked out for him, was really the right choice for the occasion, especially paired with the towering patent pumps he wore on his feet, that made it not only difficult to walk and but, in his opinion, made him look a little too desperate.

The door to the office opened and in walked a well-dressed man, probably in his mid-forties with dark hair and a little goatee beard, “good evening, Brittney, sorry to keep you waiting”, Winston announced, walking across the room, and leaning against the edge of his desk, “how are you today”?

“Well, rather nervous, if I’m being honest with you, Mr Cummings, getting this role would be like a dream come true for me”, Britt replied, feeling rather uncomfortable in his restrictive feminine outfit, having to look up at Winston as he spoke.

“Please, call me Winston, and it’s ok to feel a little nervous, it shows how much you care”, Winston replied, cracking a smile, and showing his perfect white teeth.

“Yes, I want this more than anything, it feels like I’ve been preparing for this role my whole life”, Britt said, as he placed his right hand on his knee, feeling his newly extended acrylic nails brushing against his skin through his sheer hose as he pushed his legs firmly together and moved them back slightly into a more defensive position as he noticed Winston staring down at him, almost undressing him with his eyes.

(See image 12.1)

“I can tell, and I have to say you really impressed us with your audition the other day”, Winston said stroking his beard, “the thing is, you see, for the final stage we're only choosing two girls and having already put one girl through leaves me with a difficult decision to make”.

“Can I ask who it was”? Britt said shuffling awkwardly in his chair.

“I guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you”, Winston replied, “a girl named Jem Stevens, she made quite the impression in her final scene”.

With the announcement, Britt suddenly felt very emotional, a strange combination of anger, jealousy, and fear, that he had never felt before.

“I can do it, Mr Cummings, I’m your Gabriella”, Britt announced loudly, feeling as though he was about to be eliminated from the process.

“Call me Winston, please”, said the man showing little emotion on his face.

“Oh sorry”, Britt said a little flustered, “I can do it, Winston”, he said smiling up at the head of casting perched on the end of his desk, "just give me a chance".

“I’m not sure, Brittney”, Winston stated firmly, "you definitely have potential, but I’m not sure if you’re going to be able to cope with some of the more emotional scenes, that’s my dilemma, you see”?

Britt had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, that after everything he had sacrificed, all the hard work he had put in to get to this point, everything was about to crumble away in front of him, “please, Winston, there must be something I can do to prove I’m the girl for the part, I’ll do anything”, Britt pleaded.

“Anything, you say”, Winston replied, nodding his head, and pursing his lips, “well, how about this, do you know the scene in the club, where Gabriella, has to impress the manager to get the job”?

“Yes”, Britt replied, not liking where the conversation was headed.

“Well, I’d like to see it”, Winston stated, “I want you to dance for me, and convince me that you are capable of acting seductive and it needs to be believable”.

“What! Right now,”? Britt asked in shock, having half expected the man to say something like that, but still not happy to hear it.

“Yes, of course”, came the reply, “unless, of course, you didn’t really mean what you just said”?

“No, of course, I meant it”, Britt exclaimed, “it’s just, it feels a bit strange to do it here”.

“That’s why they call it acting, Britney, show me what you can do. Now begin”, Winston commanded as pressed a button on his desk as music filled the room from the small portable speakers he had set up on his desk.

Reluctantly, Britt stood up on his towering heels, regretting once again, not putting up more of a fight earlier, when Natalia had picked them out for him to wear. He closed his eyes, lifted his arms above his head and started to sway his body from side to side.

“Open, your eyes, Brittney”, Winston boomed, “look me in the eyes, seduce me”.

Britt slowly opened his eyes and looked into Winston’s squinty, dark brown eyes, forcing a smile, and trying to forget he was a man, imagining himself to be the young sexy woman he appeared, as he continued to move his body to the beat.

“Come closer, Brittney”, Winston commanded from his desk.

Nervously, Britt took four small mincing steps forward until he was less than a meter from the intimidating man, who was now standing and nodding.

“Excellent Brittney”, Winston said rubbing his hands together, “now lower the top of your dress and let me see those impressive breasts of yours”.

“What”! Brit exclaimed, as he stopped dead in his tracks and stared the man in the face, that’s not in the script”, he stated forcefully.

Winston smiled, “No, you’re right, it’s a comedy after all, but I want to see if you can get into the mind of the character, I want you to think of her as a real person, in a real club, in a real job interview. Now, you have a choice to make, you can lower that top of yours and finish your dance or you can walk out that door with no hard feelings”.

Britt was shocked and repulsed by the reply, but he knew that if he walked out the door, that was it, he’d lost, he would have to sign over all the money to Jim, probably have Natalia walk out on him, and live with feel the shame of defeat as his friend lauded it over him. But could he do what this man was asking? He was smart enough to know that a topless dance was probably not the only thing on his mind.

Swallowing his pride and pushing all the thoughts, telling him what he was about to do was wrong, to the back of his mind, Britt reached up, placed his long acrylic nails under the shoulder straps of his tiny gold dress, slid the straps to the tops of his arms before reaching into his dress and carefully lifting out his enhanced chest, feeling the cold air on his nipples with quickly stood to attention.

Winston’s smile grew larger as he nodded his head, “now continue”, he commanded.

Feeling completely emasculated and more humiliated than he had ever felt in his life, Britt once again, started to move his body, as his boobs, now unrestrained by the material of the dress, bounced around uncontrollably.

What happened next was inevitable, as Britt watched, almost in slow motion as Winston took a step forward, reached out with his right hand and cupped his right breast before starting rolling his nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Britt first thought was one of disgust at having another man fondle him, but as he continued to mince around on his skyscraper heels, and Winston lifted his other hand to repeat the action on his left breast, he started to feel a little tingly and warm, as his legs became a little shaky and he couldn't help but let out a little moan as a feeling of the pleasure took over, no matter how much he was willing to go away.

As the song ended Winston stepped back, “Wow, you are quite the woman, Britney, and that was some sexy stuff”, he announced, the bulge in the front of his pants clear to see, “now, let’s not beat about the bush any longer, I’ll put you through to the next round, but first you have to do something for me”, he said grinning, as Britt watched in horror as he slowly unzipped his fly releasing his rock hard member, “you make me happy and I’ll make you happy, do we have a deal”?

The next day, having spent the morning with the makeup team, as they had gone to work, getting him ready for the small press gathering, the studio had arranged for that afternoon, to drum up a little publicity to entice investors, Britt felt strange. Standing in a short red flared skirt and perched on matching suede ankle boots, he kept glancing over at Jim, dressed in his leather jacket and a tiny denim skirt, blonde hair now extended to his waist, with a smile plastered on his plump painted red lips.

“Why are you smiling”? Britt asked annoyed, “we aren’t even out there yet”.

Jim turned to face him, “Why wouldn’t I smile, babe”? I’m one step away from winning this bet and who knows, I might even do the movie when I win, after all, I do look the part, he replied with a giggle.

Britt sighed, everything was so mixed up, his best friend was acting like a brainless bimbo, and both of them now looked like two fame-hungry airheads, “but what about yesterday, didn’t you… umm… like have to do anything”?

Jim looked puzzled, “do anything? Like what”?

“I mean like... with Winston Cummings, didn’t he like… you know... ask you to do anything”? Britt said before going red in the face and turning away in shame.

“No, I didn’t speak to Winston, it was Noel, that told me I was through, are you ok? you seem like you’ve got something on your mind”?

“Yeah, I’m fine, forget I said anything”, Britt replied nervously, “and you haven’t won yet, not if I have any say in it”.

“We’re ready for you now, girls”, a man said as he popped his head around the corner, “please, follow me”.

Pushing his hair from his face and trying to bury the thoughts of the previous evening deep in his mind, Britt took a deep breath and Jim out through the door to their left, entering a room with around10 journalists.

He tottered up to the position, that had been set up for them, and took his position, trying to smile as the camera flashes went off around them, still thinking about the previous evening, and if he had crossed some line, a line no straight man should ever cross.

(See image 12.2)