Turned Out              by: Kimberly Kennedy

 

Hollywood the land of opportunity and a place to fulfil my dreams. That was what I thought six months ago but reality was setting in. I was nearly broke now living in an efficiency apartment with a piece of shit car to boot. My music career was buried some where in the parking lot dumpster. If things weren’t bad enough they were about to take a severe turn for the worse.

Drinking at the Whiskey watching some talent less signed band only fueled my anger. I thought about leaving town but the thought of returning to the family farm held little appeal. The vision of long days shoveling shit and riding a tractor was enough to make me stay here. A beautiful woman sat down next to me and ordered a drink. I wasn’t an agent or some one with money so I knew I stood little chance of scoring with a woman in this town. I returned my attention to my drink at the bar. I almost fell off the bar stool when she said hello to me. So are you a musician she asked. I nodded knowing my long hair was a telltale sign. We talked for a while and she gave me her business card. My eyes almost popped out of my head when I read it. She was an A&R director for a major record label. She told me to send her some of my music she would love to hear it. I was on cloud nine at this point thinking this was the break I had been waiting for. She told me she had to leave but it was nice meeting me. The rest of the night I sat at the bar just staring at the card.

The next day I quickly packaged the tape and sent it to the address on the card. It was a few weeks before the phone call came that would change my life forever. It was more that happy to meet her for lunch to discuss a contract.

She explained the terms of the contract as we ate lunch. I didn’t really read it over I guess I was to excited as I signed at the X. She gave me the address of a recording studio and told me to be there next Friday around noon to start producing my first CD. As I drove my piece of shit car back to my piece of shit apartment I imagined the sports car and Beverly Hills garage home I would be parking it in.

I arrived at the studio early and was greeted by her at the door. Filled with excitement I walked into the control room of the studio. I asked where every one was she told me that they would be her shortly. I sat in the big leather chair at the control panel looking at the sea of knobs. As she stood behind me I felt something touch my neck and a shock run through my body. I fell lymph in the chair still conscious but unable to move or talk. At this point she walked in front of me and began to speak. You naive little boy you have no idea what you have gotten your self into. That was all she said the next thing I know two large bodybuilding women appeared and tied my arms to the chair and gag me. They wheeled me out the back of the building and up a ramp into a waiting Uhaul truck. They closed the doors and I felt the truck begin to move.

I was starting to regain movement in my body and tried to struggle against my restraints. It was no use the rope was too tight. I felt the truck stop and the back doors were opened. The two women wheeled me down the ramp. I looked around and realized I was in an old empty warehouse. Again I tried to struggle but I was quickly subdued with another shock to the arm with the stun gun. They untied my lifeless body placed it in a hospital bed. My arms and legs were secured to the rails with straps. My clothes were cut off me and placed in a garbage bag. A catheter was inserted and an IV placed in my left arm. I was covered with a sheet and left alone. Filled with fear I thought that this was one of those stories I had heard about people being kidnapped and used as organ donors on the black market. The feeling returned to my body and I uselessly struggled against my new restraints. The woman I thought was an A&R director walked over to my bedside. Holding the contract in her hand she began to speak. I would suggest in the future you read a contract before you sign it. Did you know you gave me power of attorney on page five? And here on page Seven you legally changed your name to Ginger Lee. Finally on page nine you also consented to cosmetic surgery. I laid there in shock taking in the implications of what she was saying. Your car has been sent to a junkyard to be crushed, in the next week I will buy out your lease on the apartment by emptying and closing your bank account. The thought of shoveling shit and riding a tractor now seamed a world better than what I now had. Your on an IV drip of glucose mixed with Estrogen and Progesterone before you know it you will have a nice round ass and tits. Some one will be in daily to check on you and perform necessary physical modifications. At that she turned and left me wrestle with my personal hell.

Prior to any treatments a syringe was inserted into the IV and I would fall unconscious. Electrolysis was used to remove my body hair including my eyebrows. My long hair was dyed platinum blond and permed with curls. I awoke to some one holding a mirror to my face that was puffy and stinging. They had tattooed make up on my face. Red lips, thick black eye liner and pencil thin arched eyebrows. It wasn’t long before the 36DD breast implants were in place. I was very weak physically and could feel the effects of the hormones widening my hips and thighs. My nails were now long, manicured and painted candy apple red. Two large silver hoop earrings were placed in my pierced ears and welded shut.

I hadn’t been out of bed for months but today the two women unfastened the restraints and sat me up in bed. I was weak and dizzy and cold barely move. A collar was attached around my neck and a 20-foot chain connected to it. The other end was attached to a hook bolted to the brick wall. Over the next few weeks I was able to walk around again. I would stop by the full-length mirror and look at my body shaking my head in disbelief.

Mrs. X finally appeared one day to admire her handy work. You turned out much better than I could have ever imagined. The girls are going to get you dressed so we can go. I was laced into a tight corset that caused my breasts to look even larger. A long skintight hobble skirt was zipped up on me. Six-inch patent leather spiked heels were put on my feet. Mascara and blush was applied to my face and I was ready to go. It was difficult to walk in the heels and the skirt only allowed for tiny steps. As I rode in the back of the Mercedes I was told I had cost her a lot of money. She said there was only one way she knew for a dumb slut like me to make that kind of money, on my knees.

 

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