Altered Fates: Child Star free porn video

Altered Fates: Child Star by Tim Willows It had become a nightly ritual: Barry would arrive home late, after an exhausting day of attending auditions. His wife Valerie, who also acted as his agent, would be sitting by the telephone. "Anything?" he'd ask her. "No, Barry," she'd say, "not today. Maybe tomorrow." He hadn't had an acting part in months, and whereas it used to surprise him when it turned out another day had passed without a job offer, he was starting to despair. "Am I fooling myself, Val?" he'd say. "Should I give up?" Valerie always propped up her husband's sagging ego, but it was getting harder and harder to convince him that success was just around the corner. He was a talented actor--she was sure of that. She'd seen him onstage back in college in a production of Measure for Measure, and was so impressed that she connived to go backstage after the show and introduce herself. That was the first time they'd ever met. "I literally never would have met you, I literally never would have married you," she'd tell him, "if you hadn't been such a good actor." She'd even agreed to become his agent; never had she imagined that the job would be this difficult. Barry was such a good actor, she'd naively imagined that dozens of offers would be pouring in for him. All she'd have to do would be sort them out. The truth was, he just wasn't a very marketable physical type. Mid-thirties, balding, tending to fat, nearsighted. Too homely to play leads but too unmemorable looking to play character parts. TV series wanted good- looking teenagers; movies wanted good-looking people in their twenties; theatre wanted grand old stars in their forties and fifties. Nobody wanted Barry. He'd stopping dreaming long ago of becoming a star; at this point, all he wanted was work--steady work, of any kind. Commercials, terrible sitcoms, lousy plays--it didn't matter. He felt an ache inside himself. He felt like a sucker, a fool. Acting was all he'd ever wanted to do, and no one would give him the opportunity. "Are you sure no one called?" he asked, hanging up his coat. "Did you check the service?" "Of course I checked, dear. I'm sorry. No one called. Maybe tomorrow. I'm sure something will come up tomorrow. Now, have something to eat-- you must be starving. I'm just going to sort through this box of junk." Valerie had started a side business a couple of months ago as a prop buyer and supplier for a couple of New York theatre companies, when Barry's continued unemployment had made their financial situation particularly dire. It was quite a blow to Barry's pride: his thirty-two-year-old wife reduced to...well, ragpicking to support the two of them. She travelled all over New York each Saturday and Sunday morning, visiting yard sales and junk markets, buying up interesting-looking trinkets and clothes and items of furniture. Last Sunday, she'd bought a box of assorted jewelry from a half- deaf antique dealer for ten dollars--she felt guilty and lazy for not looking at it until now, four days later. She dumped the box onto the table and looked to see if she could find anything interesting. It was ugly costume junk for the most part--giant fake rubies and paste diamonds and gaudy phony-gold chains. Barry sat at the other end of the table and watched her work. It seemed like a metaphor for the waste he'd forced her to make of her life: she spent her days trying vainly to find something valuable in the junkheap of his career. Did he still have talent? Had he ever had any? He used to say that directors and producers didn't hire him because they were idiots; now, he wasn't so sure. Maybe that brilliant acting ability he used to pride himself on was as foolish and worthless as one of these phony jewels. He sighed and wearily began helping Valerie separate her purchases into piles. Rings over there, bracelets over there, necklaces over here. "Valerie?" he said, holding up a cheap-looking medallion. "Where does this go? With the necklaces?" "God, what an ugly-looking thing. I don't know if I even want it on the table." "Oh, I don't know," said Barry, holding it up to the light. "It's not that bad, is it? There's an engraving on it. Looks a little like Tinkerbell." "Classy." "Well, I like it," he said defensively, and put it on over his head. "You never know...this could be like my new good luck charm." Valerie smiled, and Barry noticed the wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. She was aging pretty quickly, but he was still in love with her. She had such faith in him--it was the only thing that still kept him going. "Let's hope so," she said. "God knows you deserve a little bit of luck." "God knows I deserve to get lucky." He waggled his eyebrows like Groucho Marx. "If you know what I mean." "Hmmm," said Valerie, playfully pondering her husband's riddle. She walked slowly towards him, her brow furrowed in puzzlement. "I'm not all that sure that I do." Barry stood up and met her halfway. He hugged her affectionately, the medallion pressing against her blouse. Barry felt a momentary electrical tingle throughout his body--had Valerie been rubbing her feet on the carpet to give him a shock? "We'll get through this, won't we?" he asked. "I'm sure we will." "Meanwhile, I'm exhausted." Barry took off the medallion and tossed it back onto the table with the rest of the unsorted jewelry. "Let's leave all this and go to bed." "I'm with you." * * * Barry and Valerie hit the bed and each was out like a light. The days taxed them so deeply lately--it wasn't as if they were doing hard physical labour or anything; it was just the bone-crushing desperation of constantly being unable to find work, the grind of audition after audition, the unchanging indifference of the directors and producers and casting directors. Barry had started going to bed earlier and earlier. What else was there to do? He wasn't a reader, and watching TV only pained him. Why did those actors, so obviously untalented, get glamourous, high-paying jobs while he unsuccessfully pounded the streets? He knew something was drastically wrong with him the moment he woke up. He'd needed eyeglasses since he was thirteen years old, but now he could see clearly right across the room. He squinted, suspiciously, but the effect persisted. Puzzled, he shook Valerie's shoulder to wake her up and tell her the news. Just as he did so, he noticed that his hand and wrist looked very thin, and the fingernails were long and pointed...not unlike Valerie's. "What? What is it?" Valerie mumbled. She rolled over lazily to face him, her eyes only half open. They didn't stay that way for long. She sat bolt upright and stared at the creature sharing her bed. It was her, or an exact copy of her, wearing Barry's T-shirt and boxer shorts. "Who...what..." Barry--the second Valerie--was just discovering the full effect of his transformation. He had breasts. He felt his cheek with his hand, and was amazed at how soft it had become. He threw the covers off himself and stared at his thin, hairless legs. "Valerie?" he asked. "What's going on?" "Barry? Is that you?" "I think it's me. What's happened to me?" "You look like me, that's what's happened to you. My God, it's unbelievable. Get out of bed." Barry obeyed. He couldn't think of anything else to do. "Let me look at you." She whistled in amazement. "This is unreal! You look exactly like me. How did you do this?" She told Barry to stand back to back with her, and sure enough, they were the exact same height, with the exact same length of dull brown hair, the exact same crooked tooth at the back of their mouth. "Let's go to the bathroom, look at the mirror," she said urgently. It was the first time Barry had seen his new appearance, and he saw that Valerie hadn't been exaggerating. They could have been twins. They examined each other in greater detail, and discovered that they were indeed alike in every aspect, right down to the smallest mole and tiniest scar. Barry sat on the edge of the bathtub in shock--the reality of the situation was only now kicking in. "How did this happen?" he said. Even the sound of his voice was a perfect match for Valerie. "I mean, seriously...how in the hell did this happen? What am I going to do?" "Keep calm, keep calm." Valerie looked critically at her transformed husband. She winced--she knew she was putting on weight, but seeing herself "out-of-body" like this really made the fact hit home: she was getting fat. "Keep calm," she said a third time. "Okay, let's retrace our steps. Did you do anything unusual yesterday? Did you eat anything weird?" "No. I did what I always do. I had my final audition and I came straight home. We talked for a few minutes and then we went to bed. The same as always." "You helped me sort out the jewelry." "Hold on...I put that weird medallion on." "The medallion?" "That Tinkerbell medallion--you remember! My good luck charm'! Ha! And I remember now--it gave me a little zap when I hugged you! It's the medallion that did this! I'd bet you a million dollars!" They raced back to the dining room. "Which one was it?" asked Valerie frantically. "There's got to be a dozen necklaces here!" "This one!" said Barry triumphantly. "This stupid thing! All right now, let me put it on..." He placed the medallion over his head, then faced Valerie. "Moment of truth," he said, gravely. "Give me a hug." They embraced, so tightly that Valerie had trouble catching her breath, but Barry could feel that nothing was happening. No zap. Nothing. "I don't believe it," he said. "Nothing." "Are you sure it was that medallion?" "Positive." "Here," Valerie said. "Let me try." Barry skeptically handed her the medallion and watched her put it on. "All right now, 'Val'...give me a hug." Barry sighed. He was sure it wouldn't work, but he went along with Valerie anyway and gave her a half-hearted embrace. He hadn't counted on the weird feeling of their breasts mashing together and he made a sour face. "Did you feel anything?" he asked. "I'm not sure...It might have been a tingle or something..." "Val? Are you all right?" Valerie looked at her husband with worry. "Uh--I think it's working, Barry... I can feel something... Oh God...I think I'm changing into something else... Oh God..." Barry stood back and watched in wonderment as his wife stumbled to the couch. She was doubled over, more with panic than pain, and so he was prevented from getting a good view of her metamorphosis, but she was definitely changing. Her long hair was retreating back into her skull, but the rest of her body had hair growing all over it. She seemed to be swelling a few inches in height, and the buttons of her pyjamas began to show signs of strain as her shoulders broadened. She was making moans of worry throughout the entire process, and Barry could hear the sound of her voice becoming deeper and deeper. He didn't dare even touch her; all he could do was watch. After about half an hour, Valerie sat up. She was a dead ringer for the former Barry: a balding, middle-aged actor sitting on the couch in a pair of foolish-looking women's pyjamas. There was a long pause as the two of them took in their new situation. Finally, Barry spoke up. "Well, Jesus Christ on a bike! What are we going to do now? We're stuck like this! Why did you put that stupid medallion on in the first place? You knew what it was capable of! And now we're stuck! Stuck!" "Don't be so dramatic. We're not stuck." "I'm an actor--I'm always dramatic! And what do you mean, we're not stuck? Of course we're stuck! It wouldn't change me back!" "You probably tried changing back too soon. Don't worry--it probably has to recharge or something. We'll try again later on today. It'll be fine. Just be quiet." "Be quiet? How can you expect me to be quiet?" "Ssshh! I'm thinking. Jesus, Barry, just let me think for a couple of minutes, all right? This is the biggest thing that's happened to us ever, and you can't even see it. No wonder I'm the business manager. We've found a magical necklace! I mean, look at us! You touch it to someone's clothes and you change into the person! I mean, there's got to be a way we can use this thing to cash in..." "Right. We'll be millionaires. Meanwhile, can we change clothes?" asked Barry. "What?" "While you're busy thinking, I mean, can we at least change clothes? I...I mean, you, look ridiculous sitting there in that outfit. I can't stand seeing myself like that." Valerie looked down at herself, and then nodded briskly--all business. "Right. Right. You're absolutely right. All right: here's what we're going to do. I'm going to shave and take a shower and get dressed. You're going to put on a robe and cook breakfast. And then we're going to eat and figure this thing out together." * * * Not much got accomplished over breakfast. Barry was too preoccupied with all the distractions of his new body to bring much to the discussion. His legs felt so smooth; these breasts kept bobbling all over the place and getting in the way; what happened to his penis? He couldn't believe how focused Valerie was--she accepted her new body and her new gender as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She ate two bowls of cereal, and finished off Barry's helping of eggs after wolfing down her own. Barry had no appetite-- he sat at the table with the medallion around his neck, touching it with an old pair of his underpants every two or three minutes. "Well, we're not going to get anywhere masquerading as each other, that much is clear," said Valerie, downing her third cup of coffee. Barry always used to be the avid coffee drinker of the pair of them, but that seemed to have changed along with everything else. "I think what we've got to do is maybe find the clothes of somebody famous..." "Good God, Valerie," interjected Barry. "Everything you're saying depends on being able to change back! For all we know, we're stuck like this!" "We're not stuck like this," Valerie said impatiently. "It stands to reason. Why make a magical medallion that only lets you change once? It doesn't make any sense. There'd be no point in it. Of course we can change back." "But how can you be so sure?" "Well, for one thing, you're getting a five-o'-clock shadow." Barry's mind was in such a whirl that he hadn't even noticed the jolt from the medallion. He felt his cheek, and to his delight he discovered that it was once again covered with stubble. "What did I tell you?" Valerie said with a smile. "See? Look at the clock. It's...look--exactly twelve hours after you first started changing last night. Twelve hours." "Be quiet and let me enjoy this." "We're going to cash in on this big time, I tell you." "Quiet. I'm having a moment." "We're going to be rich." "I'm going to be a man. That's all I care about." "A rich man." "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say." A few minutes later, Barry had returned to his normal self. He stretched out his arms and legs and wiggled his fingers. He affectionately scratched his balls. "Now, that's more like it." What's more, he even felt his appetite returning. "Put on another pot of coffee, Val," he said. "I'm back." He trudged into the living room and flopped down on the couch with the morning edition of Variety. "Jesus, Val," he said as his wife poured him his coffee, "look at this. It's almost too bad I changed back. There's a part in a new off-Broadway play that would've been perfect for your type." He laughed--now that he was back to normal, he could laugh about the whole ridiculous situation. "I could've auditioned!" * * * Barry woke up late the next morning when he felt another zap run painfully through his body. His eyes shot open immediately--the medallion was around his neck again and his wife (who had finally agreed to return to her normal body late last night) staring at him with avid interest. She was already showered and dressed. The clock radio said it was ten in the morning. Wow--I must have been hibernating, he thought. "Uh...honey?" he said warily. "What did you just do?" Valerie could barely conceal her excitement. "Well, honey, I got a great idea yesterday morning. You know--about the medallion, and how we could make some money off of it." Barry could feel his entire body tingling. This was nothing like what he had felt yesterday. What had she done to him? He certainly didn't like the sound of it, whatever it was. "Yeah? Go on." "Well, you were saying how there was that audition for actresses. Remember? That you joked about how you could have gone on if you looked like me?" "Oh God, did you turn me into you again?" "No, no. Don't be stupid. Just listen. Okay, so, that idea occurred to me, but I realized, even if you looked like me, you'd still be just one more actress, right? I mean, I know how good you are and all, but you'd still be competing with who knows how many other people just as good. You'd just be in a crowd. Who knows, it could be just as hard for you to get hired as before, right? So, it occurred to me that we had to find some way to handle things so that you'd stand out." What had she done? It felt like everything was getting enormous around him- -it was as though the bed sheets were constantly trying to swallow him up. "Honey, I promise I won't be mad. Just get to the point and tell me what you've done." His voice seemed suspiciously high. "Well, I was looking through Variety when you went out, and I saw all those ads for actors to do commercials. There were all sorts of ads for specialized actors to do commercial work." "What kind of specialized actors?" "You know--child actors. So I went out and bought some clothes I thought you could wear to your audition and that we could use along with the medallion to kind of make you over. Oh, look at you! You're adorable!" Barry looked up at his gigantic-seeming wife. He was practically lost inside his old clothes, and Valerie took the medallion off from around his neck and helped him get loose from his T-shirt and shorts. He looked down at himself. His chest was soft and flat and his legs were skinny and ended in a pair of tiny feet. He could feel long, long hair tickling his back; a few tendril- like strands of it tumbled over his shoulders--it was red and curly. And his penis had disappeared again; in its place was a young girl's pale pink vagina. He tried to give Valerie his most murderous look, but Valerie only smiled indulgently down at him. "Let's take a look at our handiwork," she said. She got out of bed and effortlessly scooped him up with one arm and carried him, naked, into the bathroom. He was too shocked to even register a protest: his whole world had just turned upside-down. Finally, Valerie proudly stood him on the vanity and let him take a look at himself. Barry could not believe his eyes. He had been changed into an impossibly cute six-year-old girl. He was barely three feet tall, and with that long, curly hair and those green, curious eyes and those freckles dotting his dainty nose, he was completely unrecognizable as himself. He scratched at his girl's chest with his tiny, slim fingers and turned sideways to inspect his new, innocent little bottom. He was cute, that was for sure. Being Valerie for a morning had been bad enough, but this was ten times worse! More than that--it was outrageous! "Have you gone crazy, Valerie? I can't go out like this! What are people going to say?" "They're going to say that you're the best child actor they've ever seen, Barry! Can't you see how brilliant this is? You have the face of a six-year- old little angel, but all the technique of a veteran thirty-five-year-old actor! You'll outclass every other girl in the marketplace!" "Jesus Christ. You can't be serious." "Language! And I am serious, Barry. Listen to me. You'll be able to learn your lines faster, you'll take direction better...I mean, you'll have the kind of technique other child performers could only dream of having!" Barry looked at himself in the mirror again. He tried making a few expressions--happy, sad, frightened--getting the hang of this new, er, "instrument" of his. "But why a little girl, Valerie? I feel ridiculous like this." "Girls are in this year, Barry. Haven't you been reading the trades? Little girls are three times more employable than little boys. This is just a business decision, making you a girl. I've thought it through completely. I mean, for the first time in months, I really think things are about to pop for you, career- wise. Don't turn your back on this. Just think of it as a costume. A brilliant, state-of-the-art makeup job." "I look so scrawny," Barry said, sighing. He could practically count his ribs. "You look gorgeous." Barry smiled experimentally at himself in the mirror, revealing a missing tooth. His wife was right--he was irresistible. "To be...or not to be," he recited, watching himself in the mirror. "Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them." It was uncanny seeing this wide-eyed little girl so effortlessly and expertly recite Shakespeare's classic dialogue. There was an assurance to his speech, even reciting it naked on top of the vanity like this, that he had never seen before in any child actor. Maybe Valerie's crazy idea would work. "All right," he said wearily. "Maybe you're right. Let's give it a try. I certainly can't do any worse. Help me down from here and give me my clothes." "Not so fast, Lindsay!" chirped Valerie. "That's what I think we should call you--Lindsay. First, we've got to give you a bath!" She picked up her tiny husband underneath his arms, lifted him into the tub and began drawing him some bathwater. "I got you some bubble bath, too!" she announced, scurrying off into the bedroom and returning with a handful of shopping bags. She took a bottle of Mr. Bubble out of one of them, and measured out a healthy dollop of the sweet-smelling substance into the warm water. Barry initially wanted to object to the childish treatment he was getting, but soon fell into the spirit of the thing. "After all," he said to himself with a little trepidation, "I'd better start preparing for the role right now." The bubbles quickly accumulated around his thin little body. It was amazing--he couldn't remember ever having this much room in a bathtub. He actually had the space to spin around in a complete circle! Soon the tub was full, and Valerie began vigorously scrubbing him with a washcloth. He splashed at her playfully with his tiny hands and giggled uncontrollably when she deposited an enormous "hat" of soap suds upon his head. All Valerie's life she had wanted to have a child, but she and Barry never seemed to have enough money saved up to be able to afford one. Now, playing with this little girl in the bathtub, she realized even more keenly how much maternal pleasure she had missed out on all these years. She had been worried sick about how Barry would react to such a drastic and unexpected metamorphosis, but she was overjoyed to see how much fun he was having immersing himself in the role of a happy little girl. When the bath was over, Valerie took out an enormous towel and rubbed Barry dry. He smelled so fresh and clean, standing there all pink and naked on the bathmat. His long hair was still wet, and he told Valerie that enough was enough, he could manage drying it himself if she could get the dryer down for him, but Valerie insisted on helping him out. Secretly, Barry was grateful that she did once he got an eyeful of the dryer--had the handle really always been that thick around? He probably couldn't have managed the outsized machine on his own. "So what's the plan, Valerie?" asked Barry as she performed the annoying, painful work of combing out the knots in his hair. "I guess you're going to have to bring me to all the auditions yourself." "I think it'll be easiest if I tell people I'm your mother, Lindsay. They'll probably need the parent's signature on the contracts anyway." "Oooh, contracts! Aren't we optimistic?" "Why shouldn't I be? Why, I think you're the most talented little girl in the world!" Soon, Barry's hair was dry and he was ready to get dressed. He scampered after Valerie on his bare little legs into the bedroom and watched as she laid out various new outfits on the bed. There were several pairs of tights, panties, a cute little green romper, an endless number of dresses with flower petal patterns decorating them, a couple of pairs of overalls, all kinds of playsuits...plus shoes in every style he could imagine, from runners to fancy, shiny black patent leather dressy ones with a small raised heel at the back. It was a complete little girl's wardrobe. "You must have spent a fortune on all this, Valerie!" Barry said in amazement. "How are we going to pay for all these things?" "I have every faith in you, Lindsay. You're going to be huge, you'll earn back this investment in no time. Now get a move on," she said, smacking him playfully on his bare bottom. "Pick out something to wear." Barry finally settled on one of the flower-patterned dresses with an enormous pretty bow at the back--it seemed to him to have the proper mix of casual and formal that would befit an acting audition. Valerie watched as he wriggled into his panties and then helped him pull the dress on over his head. It was a little embarrassing to need his wife's help for so many of these little things like getting dressed and drying his hair that he'd never needed the slightest help with in the past--but Valerie's loving, bemused manner kept things from becoming awkward. Like the best mothers, Valerie made a game out of it. Barry shook his head in amazement as he put on a pair of small white socks over his feet and slid on a new pair of Maryjane shoes. Who would have imagined he'd ever find himself in such a predicament? Barry Wiltzen, a thirty-five-year-old married man, dressing up like a young pretty girl fresh out of kindergarten. And yet, once you were physically inside that little girl's body, wearing a dress and letting your "mother" spray you with a tiny spritz of perfume seemed like the most natural thing in the world. It was a good thing it felt so comfortable--Valerie had bought a whole lot of outfits. She was obviously counting on him to spend a great deal of time as little Lindsay Wiltzen. * * * Barry had never been to an audition for child actors before. What a madhouse! He and Valerie were told to wait in a large room with about fifty other little girls and their mothers. Half the girls were in tears or throwing tantrums and obviously didn't want to be there. The other half seemed like basket cases, too--only quiet ones. They had stern, tight-lipped stage mothers who Barry imagined had probably threatened their poor daughters into keeping quiet. Barry was an odd sight among all these unhappy children, sitting so neatly and quietly and contentedly in a seat next to Valerie. Several mothers complimented Valerie on Barry's excellent manners and professional attitude, then chastised their own daughters for not being more like him. All fifty of them had received a Xeroxed page of dialogue from a harried-looking receptionist when they showed up at the office. Most of the girls were too anxious or upset to even look at the script, but Barry had already committed the part to memory. He had always had a knack for memorization, ever since his college days of doing long, complicated Shakespearean roles. Not that this was anything complicated--he had three lines of dialogue. It was a commercial for some kind of cereal, and Barry was supposed to play a little girl who conducts a conversation with the product's animated mascot after he magically emerges from the drawing on the box. "I have a really good feeling about this," whispered Valerie. "Look at these kids. They aren't true actors! I don't see how you can possibly miss!" It was definitely a switch from Barry's usual situation during auditions, when everyone else in the room always seemed to be more attractive or have more experience than he did. He actually felt confident for a change! "How does my hair look?" he asked Valerie. She had arranged his long beautiful hair into a complicated braid just before they'd left home and Barry was worried it would come unravelled. "It looks lovely. Don't worry about that. Just let me..." Valerie wetted a Kleenex with her tongue and cleaned a fleck of dirt from Barry's cheek. Then she pinched his cheeks to put some colour into them. "Do you want me to run some lines for you again?" "No, no, I'm good," said Barry. "I don't want to overprepare." He did some deep-breathing exercises and made calming motions with his hands. He was quite a sight--this suddenly intense six-year-old girl getting psyched up for a role. Before long, a pretty production assistant with a clipboard poked her head into the waiting room and announced, "Wiltzen? Wiltzen? We're ready for you now." "That's us," said Barry happily to Valerie as he hopped down from his perch on the chair. (Man! Why did everything have to be so high all of a sudden?) Valerie held his hand as they followed the woman down a long bare corridor and into a makeshift office. The woman was probably twenty or twenty-one, Barry thought to himself, and as sexy as all get out--long legs, dark bobbed hair, trim figure. He wondered what she would think if she knew this six- year-old girl hurrying to keep up with her quick, efficient strides was wildly attracted to her. "Lindsay, is it?" the woman asked as they walked along. "Yes, ma'am," answered Barry. "Now, there's no need to be nervous. The director is very good with children." "Don't worry about me," said Barry happily. "I'm not nervous. I'm a professional." The woman laughed. "Are you, now? That's good to know." Barry gazed up at her. "You're pretty." "All right, Lindsay," said Valerie, rolling her eyes in amusement Barry's comical attempt at flirting. "That's enough. I think we're here." "Good luck!" whispered the woman to Barry as she opened the door. "I'm rooting for you!" Once inside the office, a bearded man with glasses introduced himself to Barry and Valerie as Jerome Kubelsky, the commercial's director. Sitting next to him was Ben Cook, from the ad agency handling the cereal account. Barry said, "Hello, Mr. Cook. Hello, Mr. Kubelsky," as politely as he could, and flashed them that killer tooth-missing smile of his. He couldn't believe how obsequious he was being--he remembered how, back in his very early days as a "difficult" actor, he'd sometimes refuse to even shake a playwright's hand at an audition, and now he was practically curtsying to everybody. "Please, have a seat," Jerome said. There was a child-sized seat in the room, which Barry gratefully accepted. "Wonderful! Oh, you're a very pretty little girl. Is this your mommy?" "Yes," Barry replied, making his eyes wide. "Her name's Valerie." He saw Ben Cook smile a little at that. Things were going perfectly--already one of the judges was hooked! Barry was surprised at how much he enjoyed the patronizing way in which everyone acted towards him. He had thought it would be sickening to be treated like a little girl, but in fact, he was warming up to being both the centre of attention and free of all responsibility. Why, it was pretty much an actor's dream! "Now, have you had a chance to look at the script we gave you?" Barry nodded. "I memorized it." Jerome's eyebrows shot up. "Really? You know, it's okay if you just read it off the page. We don't need you to do anything by heart right away." "That's okay. I know it." "She's very good at script work," Valerie said. "Don't worry--she knows it. She's a professional." "Well, all right then. That's excellent." There was a video camera on a tripod next to Jerome, and he turned it on and pointed it at Barry. "Remember--you can look at the script any time you like. It's okay. You don't get points off or anything like that, so don't worry. We just want to see how you come across on camera. That's all. Okay, Lindsay?" "Okay." "Now, can you tell me your name?" "Lindsay Wiltzen." Jerome consulted a dog-eared piece of paper. "Now, I'm going to read the part of Frosted Frog, okay? I want you to pretend that I'm Frosted Frog, and we're going to do the commercial together. Does that sound like fun?" "It sure does!" Barry flashed them his smile again. Valerie almost had to stifle her laughter. She had almost forgotten what a talented performer her husband could be, but here he was, charming these two middle-aged men's socks off. And it must have been a challenging role! "Okay. Here we go." Jerome began speaking in a guttural French accent. "Hello, everybody! I'm Frosted Frog, and I'm...'ow do you say, 'appy to make your acquaintance!" "You came all the way from France just to see me?" Barry said, childlike astonishment filling his voice. "Oui! I come to visit every boy and girl the first time they try my delicious new cereal!" "The taste hops right off my tongue like it's a lily pad!" exclaimed Barry. "And eet's nutritious, too--Frosted Frog and six ounces of milk contains seventeen essential vitamins and nutrients. Frosted Frog: eet's...'ow do you say...yummy!" Barry turned and looked right into the camera lens to deliver his final line--the punch line for the whole ad: "Sacre bleu!" Jerome and Mr. Cook looked at each other and nodded. Valerie's heart was almost in her throat--she knew Barry had aced the audition. "Was that all right?" Barry asked. "I can go another way with it, if you like..." Jerome rose from his seat, laughing at the little girl's precociousness. "No, no. That was fine. Thank you for coming in. Now, Mrs. Wiltzen, we have your telephone number, right? Excellent. Excellent!" He shook her hand excitedly and then bent down to address Barry. "Now, we have a lot of other little girls to see today, but just between you and me, Lindsay, that was excellent. I think we'll be seeing each other very, very soon. Thank you so much for coming in." He rapped on the office door, and the sexy production assistant reappeared. "Miss Hamill will show you out." Once they were outside the office building, Valerie couldn't contain herself any longer. She picked up Barry and twirled him around in an enormous bear hug. "Did you see that? Did you see that? You aced it! They loved you!" Barry was almost too happy to speak. It was the first part he'd landed in close to a year. "It's not exactly Ibsen, I guess, but it's a part." Valerie laughed and touched the tip of Barry's little button nose with the tip of her finger. "It's five thousand dollars. It's a national spot. And it's just the beginning! Come on!" She put Barry back down on the ground and began running along the sidewalk, Barry clutching her hand, to the nearest subway station. "We've got four more auditions still to go today!" * * * When they arrived home, the telephone was already ringing off the hook. Barry had landed four out of the five commercials he'd tried out for that day, including the Frosted Frog commercial--that was over thirteen thousand dollars' worth of work lined up in less than eight hours! He and Valerie danced happily around the kitchen table as they listened to the messages over and over again. Valerie cracked open a bottle of champagne she'd hidden away months ago, planning to use it to celebrate when Barry finally landed a good job. She poured out two glasses of the stuff, made a giddy, emotional toast, and laughed when little Barry got a case of the hiccups after downing his (to him) enormous glass. It was early evening, but Barry was tired already. This little body of his wore out so quickly--he had been running around New York with Valerie all day long, and that single glass of champagne was having a powerful effect on him as well. With Valerie's help, he took off his clothes and put on a cute little cotton nightie. He had to be on the set for the Frosted Frog spot early the next morning, in less than twelve hours, so he couldn't have changed back to normal if he wanted to. "Do I have to go to bed?" he asked her, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, every inch the image of a six- year-old girl. "I think you'd better," said Valerie. "Come on. You've got a big day tomorrow." Barry clambered into bed, and smiled contentedly as Valerie pulled the covers up under his chin. It was nice to be taken care of so reliably, but Barry couldn't quite forget that Valerie was still his wife. "Don't you want to change into anything?" he asked her. "Why don't you treat yourself to something, hmm?" "Oh, I'll be treating myself," said Valerie. She took the medallion from off the dresser and placed it over her head, and then touched a piece of fabric to it. "What are you doing?" asked Barry, suddenly curious. "What did you just touch there?" "A handkerchief." "What kind of handkerchief?" "Wait and see." After a few minutes, Barry began to smile. Valerie was changing into a copy of sexy Miss Hamill from the first audition. Valerie must have swiped away the handkerchief from her jacket pocket when she wasn't looking. "What a sneak!" Barry exclaimed. "You're turning into Miss Hamill!" "I saw you looking at her back at the office," said Valerie coyly. "Peeking at her legs, you naughty little girl." Soon the transformation was finished, and Valerie was a perfect copy of the young, slim and beautiful Miss Hamill. She undressed and slipped into bed next to her tiny husband. "So what do you think?" she asked him. Barry looked at her in wonder. "You look beautiful. I don't know what it is- -you look even more beautiful than she did." Impulsively, he slid next to her and put his little hand on his wife's shapely hip. Valerie closed her eyes and Barry gave her a long, deep kiss on the lips. "Does that feel nice?" he asked in his childlike voice. "Yes." "Is this too strange?" he asked. "Should I stop?" "No, it's fine. It's still you in there, I know that. In fact, I think that little voice is kind of sexy." Barry giggled. "Sacre bleu!" he exclaimed. The champagne was making him silly. He ducked underneath the covers and began circling her nipples with his forefinger. Soon, he began sucking at them experimentally and flicking them with his tongue. She seemed so big and grown-up. He could dimly make out her feet moving back and forth at the end of the bed--they seemed miles and miles away. He felt Valerie's hand creeping up underneath his nightie and cupping his delicate ass cheeks within her large adult fingers. He let her remove his nightie, and he enjoyed the sensation of his long red hair caressing his naked back. They spent what seemed like hours in each others' arms, just kissing and holding each other and moving slowly against one another. Barry's little girl body was so soft and sensual and small--Valerie couldn't believe how wonderful it felt. She had never been this turned on by Barry when he was a man; it was kind of a disturbing thought, but their lovemaking was so gentle--Valerie took care never to penetrate her vulnerable husband--that it seemed perfectly proper and innocent. They finally fell asleep an hour later, naked and embracing, Barry's head resting gently upon Valerie's breast. She felt like she had fallen in love with Barry all over again. * * * Within a few short months, Barry had risen to the top of the commercial acting game. Word had spread like wildfire through the industry about this astonishingly talented, precocious and adorable little actress, and Barry quickly found himself booked solid for the next two years. Two networks were hoping to build a TV sitcom around him, and there was movie interest as well, including an offer for Barry to play Julia Roberts' wise-beyond-her- years kid sister in an upcoming romantic comedy. Valerie continued to manage his bookings and his business affairs with a peerless mixture of aggressiveness and tact. There was no way she could keep on using Miss Hamill's body during the day--it belonged to somebody else, after all--but after experimenting with the medallion, she discovered it was possible to gradually change into a younger, thinner and more glamourous version of herself. Barry was so busy that he rarely had the opportunity to change back into his old male body. But even when he had a day off or a weekend free, he found he much preferred remaining as pretty little Lindsay, the world-famous child actress. That male persona of his--that bitter, paunchy failure of an actor-- seemed like an increasingly distant and alien notion to Lindsay, like a grandfather who had died before she was even born. She enjoyed being successful; she enjoyed being cute and girlish; hell, she wasn't ashamed to admit it--she even kind of enjoyed being small. It made the world seem like a playground. She approached her situation as if it were the ultimate example of Method acting: she immersed herself completely in the role--she wore dresses, she cultivated a love for ponies, she persuaded Valerie to take her to a Spice Girls concert. Everyone loved her, everyone wanted to look after her. Once in a while, Valerie tried going out on a date with another man, but it was never the same. She was still in love with Barry, even in the body he now inhabited. He was still her secret husband. Valerie was right: finding that medallion was the best thing that had ever happened to them. One day, Valerie got Barry's approval to send the medallion, along with a couple of boxes of Barry's old clothes and toys, to a local charity. A van arrived at their home to pick up their donation, and Valerie and Barry were waiting for it on the front stoop. The deliveryman saw Barry sitting there, and gave him an elaborately formal bow. "Well, hello there ma'am," he said. "Aren't you a pretty girl?" Barry grinned shyly at him. The man chuckled as he hoisted the last of the boxes over his shoulder and loaded it in the back of the fan. He climbed into the driver's seat, tooted the horn a couple of times as he pulled away from the curb. Barry waved goodbye to him until he disappeared around the corner.