A Star is Born

“And the Oscar for best actress in a main role goes to – Lexi Jordan in ‘Into the light’!”

All the nervousness falls off from you as the words you've been longing to hear are said by the hot Canadian on stage who won last year's best male actor. You think back to that for a fraction of a second and how weird this whole thing is - you watched that show on TV with four of your buddies. You already found him hot back then, but of course wouldn't have dared to tell anyone – because you were man. Now you’re woman, proud and strong – and an actress for less than year. And an OSCAR winner.

What an incredible luck it had been to have found a part so quickly after deciding that this is where you wanted to take your life when you had settled into being woman once and for all. You've always had delusions of becoming an actor as a man, but you were a scrawny little nerd, so those were pipe dreams. When the dice had been cast and the fate was clear that you'd be a hot, capable, confident woman for the rest of your life, it had taken you little time to decide to pursue it.

You had gotten a part that no established actress had wanted – not even those fresh form acting school or those without any experience or screen actors guild membership like you. A **** **** movie, sleazy, requiring the main actress to be on screen fully naked for the whole movie except the first five minutes in which you wore a skimpy bikini. Clearly it was a vessel for the writer/director/main actor to film his own fantasies with a hot woman – he got to play **** and holding you naked in a basement, **** your character for the first half of the film until you took control, subdued and then tortured and **** HIM for the remaining hour. Minimal budget, lousy equipment and the acting talents of the writer/director/producer are less than stellar. But somehow the film had gotten cult status within weeks after its release - and "somehow”, almost everyone agreed, was thank to you.

You got praise from everyone for your acting skills, elevating the sleazy voyeuristic script to actual movie status by your performance of pain, suffering and then elevating yourself to dominance and strength. And all that naked.

You found it easy to explain, thinking about it how this brought everything out of you. It mirrored your own rise, somehow. From the depth of being a weak, pathetic being - a man in your real life case, not a **** victim - into the height of becoming a strong, self sufficient, woman. And being able to do all that naked - the main reason no one else wanted the part - actually helped you. You feel good in your new body. Confident. Yourself. You don’t mind showing it to everyone who wants to see.

The rumours around it helping the movie gain traction. The rumours, of course were true, the sex scenes were real. All of them. Your director/co-Star had tried to direct fake sex scenes, of course, but given how this whole scenario – particularly the part in which you controlled and tortured him - came straight out of his own fetish arsenal, living them out with a hot woman like you made it impossible for him to not get aroused any time you tried to shoot. So you took the initiative and inserted his hard throbbing cock into your wet pussy and made it real. It was up to the the cameraman and the editor to turn your porn shoots into an R-rated movie – one that garnered a lot of attention - enough to get you a nomination. Only you of course, everyone agreed nothing else about the flick was even up to the standards of being called a”movie" really, but ignoring your tour de **** was impossible. So her eyou are.

You stand up and kiss your director on the mouth passionately rand gratefully. THIS rumour – that you two are a couple – is false – he makes for a good sex toy, so you occasionally meet and use him, but that’s all. You walk to the stage, aware of the stares of everyone who has noticed your dress as the camera catches you and transfers you to the huge screen above the stage. It’s hot pink drawing all attention to itself. And what it's showing is as short as it can get, with a number of holes on the side, the back the front. Basically, it covers exactly as much as needed to not have to fear to be censored out of the show’s TV airing. And noting more. You're as naked ad you can be on National and International TV. And the Red Carpet reporters couldn't get enough of you, everyone wanted you, everyone asked you who you are wearing. Event though they knew because the designer making you your sweet nothings to wear is as famous because of you as you are now. You're glad the Academy Awards take place so early in the year. You suffered a little from the cold but it made your nipples poke through the fabric hard as diamonds in the interviews.

In the months since your breakthrough, you’ve made that decision – you became famous because of your willingness to show your body to an audience and you were going to make that your thing.

Your first role was practically all naked, your next one will be too - a post-apocalyptic thing, based on a series of Graphic novels - you read the series and the heroine really doesn't get to keep on her clothes for long between fornicating with mutants and bathing to get the dirt off in which she fornicates with the mutants. The novels have a surprisingly good story, too -love, drama, suffering, giving you a lot of opportunity to do some serious acting. And they have a lot of fans, most of which are really glad they hired a hot actress with some acting chops AND the willingness to do nude and sex scenes. Some complain your boobs are too small – they're not the DDs of the comic heroine, but you’ll persuade them. It’ll be a good careerer move.

Your photo shoots are mostly nude, too, and you have so many paparazzi nude beach ans “wardrobe malfunction” pictures of yourself floating online, your tits have their own fan made websites.

Your mission - other than becoming a star – was to promote a natural body image, nudity as the default state of nature. Free sexuality. And in that time you've gathered a remarkable following, your social media are exploding and the ‘free the nipple’ movement has made you their spokeswoman.

You smile as you walk onto the stage. This should help. You’re are reconsigned Hollywood actress now. And you’re on this stage presenting your body under this nothing of a dress, your nipples poking through the thin fabric, your naked ass and pussy for all to see every time you bend over.

You take the golden statue form the hot Canadian and kiss his mouth passionately to the gasps and cheers of the audience. That too has become your hallmark. No one you like is safe from your displays of affection.

All of what you are and stand for makes the self proclaimed keepers of morality foam at the mouth but your followers are for once louder than the bigots. Year after Mee too, a self confident woman, showing what she has without shame and taking what she wants without bowing to male powers is a refreshing breeze everyone here enjoys.

You face the audience and smile.

“I… wouldn't have dreamt of this a year ago. I know everyone says that, but you don't even know how true it is for me…”

You smirk. No one would believe how true it it.

“I have to thank my director, producer and co-star for this once in a lifetime opportunity in his brilliant movie…”

Snickers from the audience. OK, you’re aware it’s not brilliant. Not even good, but a once in a lifetime opportunity it sure was.

“I want to thank the Academy for daring to give a newcomer a chance who’s…”, you smirk with the imitation of a sheepish smile. “A bit different than the other nominees.”

You look down on yourself, your partial dress, as the audience laughs. Some still despise you for your way, but you found most of your new collogues like you, actually.

“But all of them - the other nominees - you are amazing. I can't believe I'm up here and you all are here, too, that’s...unbelievable. And I want to thank a special old lady, who a year ago initiated the biggest change in my life anyone could imagine. Without her none of this would be possible."

You hope the old hag sees you now – these words of thanks are as cryptic as can be to everyone else but you mean it. You’re deeply grateful to her!

“Thank. For all of it!”

You kiss the golden statue's head – and then can't help yourself but take in in your mouth and gently suck it as the music swells to make you leave the stage… he has just the right size for that…

A few minutes alter you’re in the interview area, posing for the flashing cameras – no doubt the photographers are busier for you than for anyone else given your outfit.

“Lexi, how does it feel to win an OSCAR for your very first role?

“Overwhelming. Really. I’m humbled and grateful I can only hope to be able to keep pursuing this dream!”

“What's your next step.”

“I’ve gotten the main part in a series, based on an Italian Post Apocalyptic graphic novel. Shooting starts tomorrow. I can't wait.”

“Quite an explicit source material, isn't it?”

“Skimpy outfits, **** scenes, tentacle monsters. I promise it won't disappoint my fans! Or the fans of the novel.”

You wink at the camera.

“Could you kiss your Oscar again, that was hot!"

You grin, kiss the golden man's head and lick over his sword, the cameras clicking wildly as you move back inside and to your seat.

“God, you looked so hot up there in that dress, Lexi!”

Your director stares at you.

“I'm feeling hot, too. And I meant what I said, I'm very grateful!”

You kiss him again.

“You deserve a reward for making all this possible, how about you put your hand where it belongs and give me some relieve, little man!”

He grins like a little boy, he loves getting orders from you and places his hand under your dress right on your dripping pussy - you didn't predict how arousing being the centre of attention being seen almost naked by millions of people live could be. You know many people saw you very naked in your movie but live - is very different.

You sigh as his fingers rub your clit in the skilled way that you taught him. He's been quite clumsy when you first let him try – reminded you a lot of yourself as a man, as matter of fact – repressed and closeted while at the same time trying to act experienced and be the great movie director and producer. You took him down a peg or two - much of the film's direction came from you, as matter of fact, once he submitted to you in real life as his character in the movie did to yours. Ever since, your power dynamics is settled, he willingly submits to and learns from you. And he learned a lot. Within minutes he's got you where you need to be and as the best movie award is handed out, your orgasmic moans are drowned out by the roaring applause.

Some time later at the after show party, you find yourself in a remote corner of the large room, your director-toy kneeling in front of you kissing your feet while you share sloppy hot kisses with the winner of best supporting actress.

You can't believe what is happening. You’ve had a crush on her ever since she played a Superhero’s love interest more than a decade ago. You had just entered puberty and she was majorly responsible for that – she was the first woman young Alexander ever had an orgasm over in the middle of the night, staring at her poster over your bed. And you sacrificed a LOT of cum to her in the years after. Fifteen years older than you, she now plays Moms, for one of which - the mother of the main actress in a silly Romcom - she today got her Supporting Actress award.

That you're a woman changes absolutely nothing about how you see her – meeting her in person today rekindled your old crush into a hot flame again, her body that made you so hard so often as a teenage boy is more curvy, more mature, but in her tight dress now makes you wet as a woman. You couldn't believe your luck when she returned your flirting and willingly followed you into this remote corner for a make-out session.

You can believe it even less when she takes you home later that night - your director send home alone to masturbate over thinking about you two - and you spend a wild night of lesbian lust with your childhood crush. You're glad you're no longer a man – having a cock would have ruined this, you're sure.

You wouldn't be here in the first place, of course, but you also doubt she would have noticed you even if you were. And even if she did, you're very sure you’d have jizzed in your pants as soon as she first kissed you, as man. As a woman, you enjoy a long – very long night with her that also gets your two Oscars some action – they don't just have the right shape for oral use, they're also perfect to fuck both your crush and you... How many winners have sued theirs for this purpose, you wonder. After countless orgasms you fall asleep in her arms.

The next morning you’ll be on set of your new show, a little tired, but exhilarated and full of energy nonetheless. You don't know it yet, but this series and the Oscar win will shoot you all the way up to being one of the best paid and most influential people in Hollywood within a year. Your face – and more importantly your body and message about natural nudity and open sexuality - will be everywhere and soon create a cultural revolution unseen since the Hippie movement.

You are where you are meant to be – Lexi: strong, glamorous, iconic. Trendsetting. Liberating

The End

Or is it?

[I will not accept chapters before the endings to not change the points, but if you feel inspired to write a story about the hero/ine's life after my final chapters feel free to write them.