Extra-Ordinary

by Prudence Walker

 

I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m not even sure, that I knew what I was, before all this happened. All I know is that I’m confused about, ‘how come I’m in this world at all.’ I used to be just an extra. You know, the person you see in the movie that gets knocked over in a bar fight, or the mother wheeling her baby past the stars in the film. Nobody notices the extras unless they are absent. We fill the screen with the life that’s needed to make it seem real. Me... I’m one of those extras, or I was, until this happened to me.

There is something I didn’t tell you about my life as an extra. I wasn’t real, not alive in a sense that people put my makeup on and gave me my instructions. To me, one second everything is a blank, the next, I’m walking down a dusty street to get knocked over by a runaway wagon, or I’m the mother that screams, when I see my baby killed in her pram, as a maniac runs over her in a getaway car.

I didn’t see the cameras, or the film crew, with the lights and the cue cards. No, to me, it’s real. I see the scene as the public does. I feel the pain as a wagon runs over my legs; and I feel the grief as I see the baby I spent 9 months of my life growing, killed right in front of me. I’ve been both men, and women, young and old, and even different races. There were physical differences, but in all cases, in the scene in which they were needed, they felt completely normal to me. I never remembered being anyone, other than who I was portraying at the moment. I was that person, body and mind.

Gradually, over time, I seemed to realise that I was remembering things, things carried over from different scenes. As if, while I was portraying a character, most of me was that person, but part of me was standing back, thinking ‘okay, I’m a woman again.’ I could, and I would, compare the different physical sensations, with the memories I had of portraying a male. I never ate, unless the scene called for me to be doing so; and I never did any of the other things, that normal, real life extra’s, or indeed people in general, did. Things, like sex, were rare moments to be relished. Usually they were brief, interrupted by someone gate-crashing the room.

But that life, if you could call that a life, was suddenly all changed. Instead of being some sort of fictional fill in of life, I became what I am today.

Yes, I’m now a real, living, breathing, person. A person? Yes! Living? Yes! Real? Well the juries still out on that one. Why? Because I’m still an extra.

"So what." I hear you say. Well imagine this, my form is still malleable. If I hear "I need a woman there, doing this." I seem to morph into exactly what the director needs, it even affects my attire. He usually looks around and when he sees me, I get the part, and then I’m issued my cues. No makeup is needed. It seems the forces that alter my wardrobe ensure also that I’m perfectly made up.

One thing I didn’t mention before, in my standing back state, before I became real, I tended to think in terms of my being more masculine than feminine. I couldn’t choose my form; it was like a random thing. But the fates seem to play with me, usually giving me more female roles than male one’s. Even now, that hasn’t changed. I don’t know why I think of my base or default form as being male, especially with the number of times I’ve been female. Maybe it’s god’s little joke. I just wish she’d let me in on it.

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It happened suddenly, with no explanation or reason. Maybe I was just an anomaly of reality that finally got a toehold on life. I just wish it would finish the job and stick me in only one body, not the multitude that I have now. Its bewildering, the things I’ve experienced since becoming real. I’ve eaten so many different sorts of food that I never knew existed. I had my first real burger today; I loved the taste, and the sauce that ran though my fingers. I mean you never see extras in a movie eating a burger like that, well, none that I was ever in, anyway.

Even simple things like going to the toilet. I had never done it before, and before you laugh and say the first one must have been a doozy, I enjoyed it. Fortunately for me, I somehow knew what to do when the urge hit.

There were other things as well, that surprised me, like going to my apartment after the shooting was done. I have someplace to live, to relax, and even to sleep. I know how to cook, and do various other domestic chores, its just there, in my head. When I opened the refrigerator door and saw the food items, ideas popped into my head how to make them into meals.

The changes that occur to me while I’m on the set seem to continue on into my domestic situation. The day before yesterday, the last shoot I was in, I was a young man in a hospital bed. When I left the studios, I knew just where to go to get home. My ‘mom’ had dinner ready and asked how my day was. I was scared at first, thinking I wouldn’t be able to fool her long. But my responses to her questions seemed to pop out of my head without thinking. It was enjoyable to have the love of a mother surrounding me. I made every minute count, which in hindsight, was good thinking.

Yesterday, my last shoot had me portraying a middle-aged woman, so I was heading back to my apartment where I lived with my husband. I knew that, because he called me just as I was leaving. He said don’t be long as he was in the middle of cooking dinner. It was even stranger being a wife and a mother. That night, I was scared that my husband would want sex, and would take it for granted that I’d consent willingly. When he made no overtures, other than a goodnight kiss, I felt conflicting feelings, relief, and a vague curiosity of what I had missed. Maybe it’s true, that married men don’t make love to their wives every night.

Today began with me playing a small boy in one scene. Then, an hour, later the director started mumbling something about the star of the film being late, As the time ticked past, he grew angrier saying he needed her now. I could feel my body reacting to his needs. I grew worried. If he was, unwittingly, the one responsible for my changes as an extra, could, whatever it was that acted on my form, also take me, from being an extra, to becoming a star player. I shuddered. I was scared. I had never had a speaking part. Could I handle it?

Finally, he exploded as he watched the changing daylight and knew he was losing precious time.

"Get her here now!" he shouted.

I felt my body pulse, as his demands started altering my body. Within a minute, I was the spitting image of the actress playing the star role, complete with wardrobe and makeup.

"At last!" he exclaimed as I moved forward out of the corner and into his line of sight.

"Sorry, I was held up in wardrobe," I said. The words just gushed out, seemingly like a script. My now melodious, contralto voice came as somewhat of a shock. It was a voice that oozed sex appeal, and would turn most men’s libido into top gear. In the back of my mind I wondered where the real actress was, and what would happen if she showed up. Fortunately, whatever power it was that gave me this form, also gave me her knowledge of the script, and I was able to begin at the place where the woman had stopped.

The next few hours passed in a blur of ‘takes." I was ordered to do this or that, while giving my lines, which magically seemed to be on my lips, at the right time. Calling a break as the light faded, the director yelled, "cut," and "that’s a wrap."

I walked back to ‘my’ trailer, seeming to know where it was on a sort of autopilot. Inside, I was feeling worried, wondering if the original actress was inside, and what was I to do about it. Trusting in the whims of the fate that had forced me to this point, I entered, to find the place empty.

The first thing I wanted to do was look at myself. I knew I was a blonde from the glimpses of hair I could see on my shoulders, but I hadn’t had a good look at my self yet. While on the set I was subject to the will of director, unable to do anything but act, as befitting the female, who’s role I’d just usurped. She wouldn’t have started feeling her body, in curiosity, as I’d wanted. So I was limited to the views of my body that I’d had from following the script.

"Oh my god," was my first reaction. Not only was I an actress. I was famous. The body that was reflected in the mirror told me that I was in big trouble. Not only was I drop dead gorgeous, but I was also a teen singer/actress. I won’t tell you my bodies name for obvious reasons, but her surname was Spears. I gasped as I took off my attire from the film and stood there naked. I felt odd as I ran my slender hands over my body, checking out every aspect of my new form. YES, every aspect.

"OOOOOHAAAAAAAH!" I moaned, as I fingered my sex. I was hot! And my body wasn’t hesitant in telling me that either.

A knock on the trailers door heralded a, "Honey are you decent?"

I froze, wondering who it was, and then scrambled to the wardrobe, to pull on a slinky robe in pink satin. "No, I’m still dressing," I replied in my melodious voice.

"Great, just how I like you," the voice laughed.

I heard the door open and watched nervously as the man entered. He smiled as he saw me, and suddenly whipped out a bouquet of roses from behind his back.

"Honey, I know you love roses. I thought we could go out for dinner, instead of eating at my place," he said. He looked hopefully for my reply, as he handed the red roses to me.

I brought them to my nose inhaling the delicious scent, saying nothing, as I studied the guy discretely. He had dark hair and a slim build that belied the innate strength of his confident attitude. His face was attractive and clean in a masculine way, and my body tingled in strange places and I suddenly felt hot, as my glance took in the masculine outline in his trousers.

I didn’t know who he was, but I figured he was my boyfriend...or at least the boyfriend of the person that I appeared to be.

"Okay, Brad, that’s fine with me." I answered, almost on autopilot. I was shocked at how I knew to call him Brad without thinking. To cover my surprise, I turned after handing him the flowers, saying I’d get dressed while he put the roses in a vase.

It seemed as if the god, entity, fate, whatever had charge of my life, was still giving me my cues. It was different from being on the set, where I could read my lines off an internal cue board. Now I seemed to have free will as to what I wanted to say. Only when I needed a name or some background information, did it suddenly come to me. It was kind of unnerving that this could occur. I had the sudden urge to test it, and start to talk about his family, whom I knew nothing about, and see what would happen.

Looking in the closet that was surprisingly large, considering it was in a trailer. There were so many beautiful clothes; I was undecided as to what to wear. I sighed, realising I wish I were a man, where the choices were more limited. Being female meant having to take three times as long if not more, with selecting the right clothes for the occasion, hair, and makeup. It all took time. I had a sudden thought that sent shivers down my spine. I’d never needed to worry about hair, and makeup before. Whatever was needed was always done for me, when I took my cues.

I figured I could work out the clothes bit, but the other was beyond me. On second thought, looking at the array of clothing, maybe I needed help there too.

A sudden warm breeze touched my ear as Brad breathed into my hair and murmured, "I like the red dress." In my contemplation, he’d come quietly from behind, and had put his arm around me, pulling me back against his chest. I put back the black dress I was holding, and looked at the other one I had in my left hand. It was a burgundy red dress of some shimmery material I could only guess at. I wasn’t even sure it fit. It seemed so small, I sighed, and escaped Brad’s clutches temporarily, as I went to look for some underwear.

I found a bra and a pair of panties in the same colour along with a flimsy piece of see through material. I think it’s called a chemise or something. Hoping that all three were meant to go with the dress, I managed to put them on. Self-supporting hose went on, reaching to my upper thighs. The slightly tacky silicon rings on the inside of the openings holding tightly to my hairless skin. The bra went on surprisingly easy, I even managed to reach behind my back to do up the closure, a testament to my very flexible arms and, I think, a helping hand of the one looking over me. I stepped into the dress, a little uncertain which way it went, but figuring the zip went to the back, I pulled it up, and put my arms through the sleeves.

Brad took care of the zip, pulling it slowly up to the top. I felt the silken caress tighten, as it hugged my body in a sensuous cocoon, sending me into a world of delight I had never imagined. Was this the feeling every woman felt in beautiful clothes, I wondered, as my nipples tingled and moisture gathered below. Or, was this just my reaction to the sensations of satin and silk on my body being perceived for the first time?

Before, when I was on the set, I was distracted by having to be the character I was portraying. I had had no free will then, as I was forced to be Miss Spears, acting out her part. I didn’t get much chance to appreciate the way the clothes felt until now. At the moment, I could daydream and just take time to really feel every nuance of sensation. I wondered briefly what had happened to the original Britney…oops I didn’t mean to blurt that out, but I guess by now you knew who I was, or at least, whom my form mimicked. Was she in some limbo world, dreaming, or was she still in a corporeal form somewhere. I hoped that she wasn’t going to pop up while I was with her boyfriend. That would really be difficult to explain.

"Earth to Britney. Come in Britney." Brad murmured in my ear.

"Sorry I was miles away," I replied, moving over to the dresser, I looked at the various selections of jewellery and makeup there. I sat down in front of the mirror and picked up one of the items of makeup, trying not to look, or to think about it, I was hoping that somehow this body would do it automatically. I started talking to brad hoping the distraction would help me. I realised, with a sigh of relief, that not only was I applying foundation to my face, but that the words I needed, just popped out my mouth. As I discussed details of my day, I applied eye shadow and lipstick without hesitation, thankful for small mercies. I picked up a brush, and swept it through my hair restoring it back to its faultless style.

I left the gold loop earrings in my ears and picked up a simple gold necklace, which brad offered to fasten, giving my neck a quick kiss as he did so. I slipped some rings on, along with several bangles that clinked against each other as I stood up. I slipped a pair of black pumps with a modest heel on and turned to face Brad.

"Well? I queried, turning around for Brad’s inspection. "Do I pass inspection?"

He stood back and looked at me critically, taking time to slowly look from head to toe, with a hand cupped thoughtfully under his chin.

"Suck that gut in and stick out that chest, girl." He said in a military tone. He then spoiled the effect by giving me a sexy grin.

"Harrumph," I snorted, sticking my nose in the air with mock disdain. "Men!" I added as if that said it all.

"Oh baby! You look good enough to eat. You know how you drive me crazy."

Oddly, even though I wasn’t completely comfortable in my female role, the obvious compliment made me feel good. Picking up a handbag automatically, I followed Brad outside. He held the door open for me and held out a hand to help me step down, before he locked the trailer door. I let him lead me along with my arm though his as he walked to his car.

He took me to a quiet, but classy restaurant, where he lead me to an alcove lit by flickering candles. The menu I was shown had no prices on them and was in French, a language I wasn’t familiar with. I let him order, not wanting to make a mistake in ordering, in case I was supposed to know the language. I enjoyed the meal immensely, relishing the strange flavours on my near virgin palate.

I noticed that people looked at me with interest. Fortunately they were polite enough not to mob an obvious celebrity. One small girl, of about seven, came over from her parent’s table to ask for an autograph. She had a cute smile, and was very polite, so I signed the name of my body form, hoping it would look authentic. I noticed the smile of thanks her mother gave me as she returned proudly to their table.

All too soon, dinner was over. Brad took care of the bill and we were soon heading back to Beverly Hills. He drove carefully with one hand, the other was busy caressing my thigh gently. My body was reacting to his attention, my pulse started increasing and my breath quickened. The feelings in my body started to build; and, I was filled with a need for… something.

I wasn’t at all sure about the prospects of having sex with the man my body seemed to be aching for, but as my nipples hardened and the heat of my sex started to rise, the small voice that had been objecting to it, fell quiet. I let the feelings build, relaxing, as the growing anticipation of what might be in store for me, came ever closer.

I was so engrossed in my feelings that it surprised me when Brad said, "Home sweet home, honey. I really love your place. Now we can relax in the hot tub before bed."

I looked out at the mansion looming ahead, as we entered, the gates were opening in response to the remote Brad had triggered. Lights came on along the sweeping drive illuminating the front of ‘my’ home. Wow!! It was huge, but then Britney was rich from her singing career. I wondered if I had inherited her singing ability along with her body, I made a mental note to check it out when I had a quiet moment …alone.

The evening went swimmingly. The hot tub was great. We were naked of course and Brad had me sit on his lap with my back to him. I could feel his cock brushing at my sex as he cupped my breasts. It was hard but not unduly so, I guess the hot water prevented it from reaching full erection. He was content to nibble my ears and caress my soft body until I felt I was going to melt into goo. As the water swirled around me, I felt like I was floating and swirling around too. I could have stayed all night; but Brad pulled my butt out, saying I’d get pruned. I checked as I dried myself, but my skin was still smooth and satiny.

I slipped into a rich cream satin nightie that I’d picked out of "my" bedroom before we went in the spa. Its soft folds fell to my ankles, encasing my body in it’s glistening caress. It felt wonderful as it brushed against my skin as I walked to get a drink of something alcoholic for both of us.

Brad was sitting on my bed as I brought back the vodka’s, kissed with ice and bruised with a little lime. We sipped the drink without words, just looking at each other with anticipation. I could guess Brads thoughts as his eyes looked burningly, over my luscious form. For myself, this was something new to me, to actually have sex from whoa to go. I’d been in situations where I’d be in the middle of the sex act (as an extra) but those were just fleeting moments where I’d only experienced a few seconds of it, before being interrupted by the actor intruding into the scene. That was a real coitus interruptus. I did remember once, when in one scene, I did ejaculate, but all I remember of it, was a brief pulse of pleasure.

Finishing our drinks, Brad took my glass and put it on the bedside table, never taking his eyes from mine. Then he pulled me to him and gently kissed me. I felt an electric tingle as our mouths joined and his invading tongue pushed eagerly, past my lips. I melted, (yeah I know it sounds corny), but I did…my stomach did a flip and my heart rate skyrocketed. It was as though my insides turned to jello.

I fell bonelessly to the bed, like a puppet with its strings cut, pulling Brad with me. His hands expertly roved my feminine contours, seeking out new frontiers and boldly going where no man had gone before. (At least for me.) I’m sure I saw stars even before we engaged warp speed. (Apologies for all non Star Trek fans lol) Brad entered my wormhole with impulse engines only, slowly bringing me, to a glorious climax, as I orgasmed over and over.

Somewhere, in those intimate moments of sexual bliss, something changed. I felt whole. It was as if something was telling me, this was the true person I was. The feeling that I’d had, that my psyche was more male than female was gone, blown away in the passion of sex as a female. I didn’t miss it or feel that it was a mistake. Sex as a woman felt glorious. Submitting to the strength of a man and the accepting of the man’s penis as it filled me, made me realise that I was a creature of giving, one who had opened herself to take the measure of another’s body. The sweet surrender of my body was a ritual of life as old as the species.

The next morning, as I lay in my bed thinking about the night before, I realised that my life as Britney was going to be permanent. How I knew, as I felt Brad start to stir next to me, I wasn’t exactly sure, but a small voice in my head seemed to agree. I smiled, thinking of all the interesting things I could try, if I was now a really, real person. Thoughts of the future were pushed aside for the moment as Brad rolled over and started fondling my breasts. I snuggled into the embrace of my lover and kissed him, thinking that an "extra" dose of wonderful sex was just what I needed.

 

The end

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Prudence Walker. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.