Seeds Of Fear (9 page)

T
hey were wild and crazy times. Hollywood was still new and stars were being born every day. You couldn't turn around without bumping into someone who had just made a film. Studios formed and disappeared. Cameras cranked nonstop and movie productions were multiplying like rabbits.

There were actors and then there were the Stars. The brightest of the stars weren't just found, they were made for the camera. An actor might be typecast, but these new players could do anything. No stunt too dangerous, no pratfall too outrageous—they were like the early gods of film.

There was jealousy, of course, but most of us were in awe of them. Many a live actor would have sold his soul to be able to do the things the Animates could. Director didn't like your looks, you changed them. Got flattened in a bad fall, reinflate yourself and do something else. They were amazing.

They made us laugh and that was a good thing, because some of them were not so comical in private. Some of them could be downright nasty. I'd heard stories about pranks Animates had pulled on Reals, stunts that put the less resilient Reals in the hospital. They were wild, and there wasn't anything anyone could do about them. I mean, how do you lock up someone who can turn into a pool of ink and pour himself down a drain?

There was also talk about what happened to Reals who had sex with the Animates. No one had any specifics, but the word was, it wasn't anything you'd ever forget. A friend of mine had heard there was a special wing at the laughing academy reserved for those Reals crazy enough to do it with an Animate. He said they were all checked into the rubber room wearing the latest in straitjacket fashions. I told him he was full of it, but I was curious.

My name is Josh Merriweather and I come from a small town in the East and made my way west by working odd jobs till I got to California. Once there I found HOLLYWOODLAND and my fate was sealed. It was magic and I wanted to be part of it.

There were jobs all over the place. No one knew what they were doing, so everyone was making it up as they went. I worked behind the scenes on a couple of pictures and even did some work as an extra.

I had heard some of the others talk about the Animates, but hadn't actually seen one. Sure I'd seen them on the screen, but I'd never met one on the street.

Then my life changed, maybe not for the better, but it changed.

The word was out that one of the newer studios was looking for help. No big deal; until I heard it was a studio that only produced Animated films. That's all I had to hear. I think I knocked a couple of guys over as I ran out the door and made a beeline for the Fletcher Studio. It wasn't far, so I ran all the way. When I got there, I was so out of breath that I couldn't even tell them why I had come.

Finally I caught my wind and told them I wanted a job. They sent me to talk to the head man. Mack didn't much look like a tycoon, but he had given a start to some of the biggest Animates in the business. I admit I was a little in awe of him when we first met.

"Well, kid, what do ya want?" Mack looked up from a viewer as I came into the room.

I knew what I wanted to say, but my tongue had gone on strike.

"You want a job?"

I took a deep breath. "Yes!"

"A man who knows what he wants. Good. Okay, you're hired. What's your name?"

"Josh, and I just want to say—"

"Enough talk; you think I've got time to interview every little schmuck that comes along? You can thank me later. Now I want you to run these pages over to that big building over there. Can you do that?" I nodded my head so hard, I could hear my brains rattling around. "Then go already."

Off I went, and that was the beginning of my time with the Fletcher Studio. Wild times and a couple of scary times. I got to work with the Animates, and for the most part they were a swell bunch of guys. Maybe "guys" is too loose a term; they were a swell bunch of clowns, dogs, creatures, and things. It was amazing.

My job description varied from day to day. One day I was a gofer, the next the light man. I never knew where Mack would send me next, but for him I would do anything. Which is what got me into the biggest trouble of my life, because one day Mack asked me to do something that again changed my life.

It started out like any other day. I was running errands and stopping to watch the filming whenever possible. Mack had three Animates he was grooming for stardom. Two had really good careers in radio and comics, and one had something that Hollywoodland had patented . . .
sex appeal.
I had seen the studio's other stars, the mumbling merchant marine and the big blue Boy Scout, but I had yet to catch a glimpse of
her.

It
was about time to do a deli run when Mack saw me and called me over. "Hey, Josh, I got a job for ya."

"Yes, sir, anything you want." Mack liked enthusiasm.

"Great, I want you to get your ass over to Stage Five. Tell the director you're to talk to Tiffany about the matter she and I discussed."

"Tiffany?" My blood started pounding. I was finally going to meet
her.

"Yeah, Tiffany. Josh, you do this for me and I'll make sure you go far in this business." Mack clapped me on the shoulder and pushed me toward my destiny.

Tiffany had
it.
She had already done a couple of films for Fletcher Studio, and the audience loved her. There was a bit of innocence mixed with a whole lot of lust. You saw her up there in a short little skirt and garters and you had thoughts that could get you thrown in jail in most states. I'd seen her on the screen, and now I was going to see the real thing. Hooray for Hollywoodland.

I found the director, Mack's brother Morrie, and delivered the message.

"Thank God!" Morrie seemed genuinely happy to see me. "That little tootsie has been driving me nuts. I want you to go to her dressing room and help her."

"Me?" My throat closed up and my knees developed a rhythm all of their own.

"Listen, kid, Tiffany likes them young and handsome. You play your cards right and this could be the day you become a man." Then he looked around to see if anyone else was listening and said under his breath, "Just watch out for yourself, and if things get too weird, don't be afraid to run for it."

"You mean, she might. . . ?" I began to wonder if this really was a good idea.

"I mean the little honey has a libido the size of Texas. She's tired of the Animates she usually hangs around with and wants a Real to play with. Sometimes it can get a little hairy. You got a problem with that?"

"A problem?" Sex toy to an Animate? What if the stories I had heard were true? Would I ever have another chance to find out? Curiosity got the better of me and I shook my head no.

Morrie took my shoulder and guided me on my journey. "You're a great conversationalist, kid. That'll come in handy. Now, get in there and make her happy."

Tiffany had her own private dressing room, with a big star on the door. I found a shiny surface to give myself a quick brushup and then I went to tap on the door.

"What do you want, punk?" a voice snarled as I raised my hand. I looked around, but didn't see anyone. "Right in front of you, you stupid Real."

I dropped my hand and stared into the rather belligerent expression of the star on Tiffany's door.

"Are you going to tell me what ya want? Or are you just going to stand there with your dick hanging out?" My mouth opened and I looked down quickly to check my fly, but before I could answer, the star said, "Trying to cop a peek at the Star? Hoping maybe you'll see her in the altogether?"

"No!" I blurted out. "I was sent by the director to see if... if... I could ... I mean ... if she needed ..."

"I know what you think she needs!" snarled the star. "What she doesn't need is some Real hoping to get lucky."

Its little mouth twisted up to spit, but suddenly the door swung open. "What is all the noise out here?"

She was amazing. About five feet tall and with so many curves, I didn't know how they all fit. Everything about her was black and white. Her dress, what little there was of it, was jet black. Her eyes and lips just as black as the dress. The most amazing thing was her skin—there was no shading, no hint of color; it was the whitest thing I had ever seen. Put them all together and they spelled Tiffany.

Tiffany looked at me and then her attention swi-veled to the door. "You! I told you it was over between us."

"But, Tiffany ..." The voice had dropped down to a whine.

"Leave my butt out of this. I'm sick and tired of your jealousy. Now, get the fuck off my door before I call security."

If the star had a tail, it would have been between its legs. It slid down the door to the floor. Two points acted as legs and two others gestured like arms. "Honey, listen to me. I can change. I promise you."

"It's time for a change and you're not it." With one shapely little foot, in an ebony stiletto, she kicked him down the hall. "And I'm warning you, turn up on my door again and I'll nail your little glittering butt there for good."

The star gave me one more sullen look and then slunk off down the hall. Tiffany watched him for a second and then turned her attention to me. "And just who might you be, tall, dark, and fleshy?"

I was about to do a repeat of my earlier stammer, but Tiffany put her slim finger to my lips. The finger was cool and soft. My eyes crossed as I tried to get a good look at it. Tiffany smiled with her sweet, kissa-ble, Cupids'-bow sable lips and took ahold of my lapels. Then she pulled me into her dressing room.

The room was like Tiffany. It was all in black and white and there wasn't a straight line anywhere. Every wall, piece of furniture, and accessory seemed to flow gently into whatever was next to it. That and the fact there didn't seem to be any shadows made the whole thing fairly disorienting.

"What'sa matter, honey, the room too much for your Real mind?" She reached up and patted me on the cheek. "Let Tiffany fix."

Abruptly everything seemed to run together. One moment I was looking at curves, and the next, the room looked like any other. I staggered to a chair, hoping it wouldn't talk to me, and grabbed hold of it.

"First time?" Tiffany purred as she moved over to me and rested her hand on my chest.

"Yeah, what happened to the room?" Reality didn't seem to be playing by the usual rules, and I was trying to figure out the new ones before the next game.

"Ooh, a virgin!" Tiffany pushed me down onto a couch that might not have been there a moment before. "Let me try to explain, sweet pants."

Tiffany straddled my lap. My first thought was that she didn't weigh as much as I had expected. My next thought went into a whole new area as she moved around to make herself comfortable. I opened my mouth to ask a question that had become very important.

"Excuse me, Miss ..."

"Call me Tiffany. And I'll call you sugar pants."

"Excuse me, Tiffany, but I wondered if you had ... I mean . . . can you ... do you have . . .?" How to ask this question tactfully?

"Oh, aren't you just the cutest little Real. You want to know if I have a pussy?"

"Well, it's just that when I've seen Animates in the movies, they don't seem to have any privates. I mean most of them don't even wear pants or anything."

"Baby, does it feel like there's nothing down there?"

I had to admit that right then there was absolutely no question in my mind at all that she was all woman. In fact, I got the strangest sensation that she could unzip my trousers without using her hands. She ground down on me with her hips, and I thought it was going to be all over before it even started.

"There, I like that. Now, what was I saying?" I might have been able to help her out with the question, but she did a little move and my train of thought got completely derailed. "Oh yes, I remember now. What happened to the room and do Animates have goodies?

"I'm an Animate and that means I can pretty much do what I want."

"Well, yeah, you're a star." I had to say something or this session was going to be over real quick.

"Yes I am. That's good. Move a little more like that. But that's not what I mean. I mean I can control the way things look around me, and when the need arises, I can have enough goodies for everyone."

The mind can only handle so much information at once, and my brain was slightly south of my belt buckle. Tiffany saw I wasn't paying attention to what she was saying, so she did something to refocus my thoughts.

She leaned forward and her chest began to inflate. She had a nice little set on her before, but now! They kept growing until I was engulfed in the biggest tits I have ever seen. Soft, white, and so light, you almost expected them to float her off the couch like a couple of helium balloons.

"Begin to understand, lover? I can change how I look, what I'm wearing, and the room around me, just by thinking." The tits resumed their normal dimensions.

What followed was amazing. I know I've said that a lot, but there isn't any other way to describe it. Tiffany went through a barrage of changes. She was taller, slimmer, blonder, more curves, less curves, better curves. The outfit changed from a minidress to a formal gown, to a period piece out of some swashbuckler, to a swimsuit, and for a couple of glorious seconds ... it was gone altogether.