Sylvia’s Hollywood Birthday part 1


⦁ “Judy and Denise and a few other friends had some connections with famous” Hollywood”. Denise actually grew up in a wing of this Brentwood mansion that had belonged to a famous rich and kinky 1930’s movie queen named Desiree Duncan. Have you ever heard of her?”
⦁ “This part of what happened at my sixteenth birthday, Tom:
⦁ “Ms. Duncan. Oh yes. She was a huge star in the early 1930’s. She lived the life of a star, plenty of booze, sex and d**gs, and her career was ruined by some scandal involving sex with a f******n year old boy (or girl), and I’m not quite sure. Desiree was not the kind of a woman to give up. She was one of the very first Hollywood stars who did not try to hide or mask her bi-sexuality. A few years after her scandal, she married “Boy Producer” Mortimer Shulberg. Mr. Shulberg produced a number of thirties blockbusters, and suddenly died of a brain hemorrhage before he was forty, leaving his widow a mansion, a fortune, and ever so many kinky and playful Hollywood friends. She never made another picture (why would she?) and lived out her days, in the grand style, in this huge house in Brentwood. On her grave at Woodlawn cemetery is inscribed:
⦁ “Not Too Bad for a Girl from Northport, Washington”.
⦁ “Northport, eh? Did you have your party there?”
⦁ “NO, dummy, it was in Brentwoood, Los Angeles, not in fucking Northport, wherever that is. Be patient, Tom, and let me tell you…”
⦁ “I was having sex with men and women before I was sixteen. Don’t look at me like that. Everyone has a love life that starts somewhere…”
⦁ “Yeah, but…I…”
⦁ “Okay … I had a lover named Al before I was sixteen, much older than me, and a lover my age named Judy. Rachel got into it, sometimes. Those weren’t the only people I did sex things with, not quite, but Al and Judy and Rachel were the ones I felt close to. Al was one of the musicians who came to play at my sixteenth birthday party. Rachel was there too. They put me in somebody’s car, put a blindfold on me, and drove me all over town, so I had no idea where I was. They led me blindfolded into the house, up some kind of back stairs. Judy walked me right into this fabulous tiled bathroom with gold faucets and took my blindfold off. Lets have a bath, before we get your make-up and gown on…would you like that? Have a little puff, relax, Syl, this is going to be nice…”
⦁ I like to use a tub instead of a shower. This bathroom was so fancy, so opulent, huge malachite green tub that must have been carved from one block of stone, gold plated spouts and faucets. The tub had jets, installed, Denise told me, in the 1930’s, when the rest of the world didn’t know they existed. The toilet was made from the same rock as the bathtub, and the seat looked as if it were from some fancy wood usually used for guitars, rosewood maybe, but it was so dark and heavy, I think it was ebony…the floor was a beautiful tile pattern, Denise called it “tessellated”, a shade of green to match everything else. In the center, worked into the tiles, a huge “DD” design, for the owner of this palace, in case she forgot who she was while having a royal poop, I thought.
⦁ They had the tub prepared for me with bath salts and everything else…I expected Desiree to come home, see me splashing around in her tub, and promptly clap her hands to have the servants throw my ass out on the sidewalk…but I climbed in, it felt so delicious, it smelled so lovely and it was exactly the right temperature? How did she know that I like my bath really hot? Someone was washing and rising my hair…Judy had a huge Greek sponge, and she was using to gently wash the daily grime from my skin, with the touch of a lover, which of course, she was. She washed my bottom; she wanted to wash my lady parts, too, but despite everything you might have heard, there are some things that are so personal I prefer to do them myself, and sponging off the day’s accumulation of whatever from my coochie is one of them…but Judy is my lover, there is no part of my body she has not explored with tongue, fingers and her sweet words and imagination…and that’s what I was thinking as I finally climbed out, and she wrapped my body, all 4 foot eleven, 36 D boobs, in the biggest, warmest, heaviest towel I had ever been wrapped in, and hugged me to her body…I wasn’t sexually excited, too bad, because I could have had an orgasm right there, it felt so good..
⦁ “It sounds wonderful”
⦁ “”Oh yeah Tom, it was, but this was just the beginning..”
⦁ “Did you have sex with them?”
⦁ “You are so weird. It was a bath, Tom, a bath, but they kissed me and played with my boobs and butt a little. You know, while they were washing me. They got me out of there finally,
⦁ When I came out of the bathroom, all clean , Barbara and Devon, one of the gay boys, sat me down in front of Desiree’s dressing table, her fabulous dressing table, with the little upholstered seat, facing mirrors, the blonde wood. and the perfume atomizers:
⦁ “Holy Toledo,” I thought, and Judy was shaking her head “Nunca in mi vida, mi cara…” and both Devon and Barbara, make-up experts par execellance, did my eye shadow, my mascara, eyeliner, my lipstick, covered the zit bumps on my cheeks…oh my god, all of it, and of course, my hair…I had dressed up before, but not quite like this..Devon kept trying to get me to keep my eyes closed until they were done..I tried, but I couldn’t quite manage to do it…I was able to have sex like a woman, but I was just sixteen, not quite a woman yet, so I kept peeking and admiring my beautiful self…beautiful, courtesy of about ten other skilled people, kind of like Desiree herself, I’m sure…
⦁ Devon handed me this elaborate atomizer and snapped me out of my dream:.
⦁ “I’m sure you know how to use this” he said in a bitchy tone… Years later when we got together, he said, he was so jealous and wished he was getting the beauty treatment instead of giving it to me.
⦁ He knew everything about hair and makeup. I had never been fussed over in that girly way before, but Devon loved to do it and he was really good at it too. When he finally showed me the mirror, I didn’t know who I was for a moment. Then Judy whispered in my ear:
⦁ “I’m going to wrap one of Desiree’s robes around you, but I want you to drop the robe when you come in the room, Desiree’s bedroom, and just be naked. Can you do that?”
⦁ “Could I do that? It was my birthday, I was a born show-off. My birthday suit seemed most appropriate.”
⦁ “Wow, you just walked in there butt naked?”
⦁ “Yeah, I did. Well, I had the robe around me, and as soon as everyone saw me, I let it drop to the floor. It was strange, because I always thought my body was so ugly, but for some reason, that night, I just didn’t care. I wanted everyone to feel sexy at my party, and I thought…well…I..
⦁ “I’ve never seen you with your clothes off.”
⦁ “Well, baby, it could happen sometime soon.”
⦁ “They were playing the wedding procession from “Figaro”, by Mozart, as I came into the room. I just stood there for a moment taking it all in. I never got over my shock, but I pretended I did. Tom, I’m still in shock!”
⦁ Silkie leaned over and kissed me.
⦁ “I made a naked kind of curtsey, and slowly walked the length of the huge room to the place where my friends were playing so beautifully. There was a music stand for me in the center, and on the stand, the music and lyrics to three of my favorite arias:”Devo Sevo i Bei Momenti” from Marriage of Figaro, “Merci, Dilette Amiche” from Verdi’s “Il Vespri Sciliano” and of course “La Verge de Degli Angeli”, the piece I had been listening to Joan Sutherland sing since I was six years old. Other k**s had pictures of The Beach Boys or The Rolling Stones on the walls of their bedroom. But, Tom you’ve probably figured out by now that I didn’t care about any of that. I didn’t know the names of the Beatles, probably the only fifteen year girl in the country like that who wasn’t locked up somewhere. Just a totally little musical snobby snot, and not a bit ahshamed. I had pictures of Joan Sutherland and Renata Tebaldi, Anna Moffo and Leontyne Price hung up in my room…”
⦁ I didn’t know a thing about opera. I liked Creedence Clearwater Revival. I liked Otis Redding. I liked The Box Tops. I could tell that Silke wanted more kisses, so we stopped the story for a while. I wanted to start to get her clothes off, since she was talking about it so much, but she put me off…
⦁ “Let me tell you this, okay? I was naked, right out of the lovely bath, make-up, and hair treatment I had just received, standing in front of ten of my friends, with all my music, Rachel, Judy, Denise, Devon and some of my other friends nearby with piano, violin, sax and, of course, Al’s bass. There was a microphone in front of me.. And little Sylvia is all red pubes and freckled boobs and some mascara. Nothing else. Tom, you might think that weird, but, I assure you, that’s the way I was then.”
⦁ “Al was standing behind me with his bass. He leaned over so that his body just brushed my behind. I wanted to feel him push against me, oh god, did I ever. He touched my face , just a touch, and whispered to me:
⦁ “Please, Sylvia, let us hear you. You sound so beautiful.”
⦁ “I loved singing these pieces. I could never sing this the way that Madame Sutherland could. I always had a hard time getting the diminuendo right, but how many times had I heard her back off on B-flats, Bs, Cs, and even D-flats. I loved to listen to the phrase from the Hamlet mad scene that goes from a low B natural to a high D-flat. I listened to her Esclarmonde Invocation Scene , and heard her hit the crescendo on that A5. I had a record, I can’t remember which one, but I do remember her ending one of her recordings with a trill that she kept crescendoing and decrescendoing. No I couldn’t sing like her, but I never heard my voice sound better, more expressive and more in control, then it was when I sang for my friends and lovers on the night of my sixteenth birthday. I wondered if Madame Sutherland got as horny as I did when she sang.”
⦁ “Silkie, I have no idea what you just said.”
⦁ She kissed me again.
⦁ “Oh, that’s a lot of singer talk. What I meant to say was that I never could sing like this woman I had always admired, but I still felt okay about what I did! See, I can too talk like a normal person…except I’m not that normal and only sometimes”. (Laughing)
⦁ I was loving her story. I was seriously wanting her now.
⦁ Silkie said ” I heard Judy say: “I saw you touch yourself, Sylvia, I think ,well, here you are, all nakey on your birthday, and I know what a show off you are. I’m pretty sure that you want to put on a show. Darling, I think I know what kind of show, too. “
⦁ “What in the world did Judy think I was going to do?”
⦁ Judy kept going:
⦁ “Before that, will you sing for us some more, please? Do you want to get dressed up for the show first? I found a present for you. It’s really special. You know who my cousin was, don’t you? Anya Dorati? The chief assistant to Edith Head? No, really she was. She wasn’t super rich like this, but she actually created gowns for every star in Hollywood, and many women in Europe as well. Edith Head had her famous name stitched on the thing, but my cousin went wherever they were, measured their bodies, talked to them about what they wanted, and created from there.. She was a very serious, working class woman who was just a genius at creating clothes that flattered these impossibly egocentric women. She is really old now, she doesn’t do clothes anymore, but she is really nice. I told her about you, and she got up from her chair, went to one of about twenty closets in her house, looked around for a while, and handed me something in a heavy velvet zipped up garment bag.”
⦁ “I did this for a woman who was really tiny. Usually I meet with the woman, talk with her, and I have to do her measurements very carefully and completely because with these personalities, I probably would not get another chance. I never met this famous woman. I just had to work from the numbers she sent me. Making this gown was a lot of work. She had a little bit of an unusual shape. Very small, but full figured. Ms. Head was excited to be able to see her wear it for this Oscar event, which was the first one to be televised. “
⦁ “Here is the sad part. She never wore it. She never even saw a picture of it, as far as I know. I would have taken the picture myself, and I don’t recall ever doing that,”
⦁ “Maybe it will fit your friend. You say she is an opera singer? Oh, please take it, dear. It has rather a deep décolletage, but if your friend has an ample bust, and she should, if she is going to do what she does, then it might be perfect. It might be very flattering as a performance gown.”
⦁ “Judy stopped talking. She handed me a zippered velvet garment bag. It was heavy. I knew it must be something, because even the zipper on the bag was exquisite. I opened it, and peeked inside. There was a tiny green beaded gown. A little note card attached in European fountain pen script:”
⦁ “Mme. Piaf. 1948. Oscar.”
⦁ “THAT’S what the note on the bag said.”
⦁ “She was tiny, like you, with big boobs. This gown might just fit…”
⦁ “Oh my god. Tom. Never in my life. Never. I was standing in front of everyone without any clothes, but instantly, I forgot about whatever sexual show-offy thing I was planning to do. It took a lot to get me to shut up, but this was one of those moments. Before the night was over, I had several. I held up this little green thing, with the perfect sewn on little beads. I put my arms straight in the air. Judy and Al dropped it over my head and it fell halfway down my body. Judy got behind me, got me to lean forward. I tucked my big boobs into the bodice. She zipped up the tiny dyed-to-match metal zipper in the back..uh,oh…I was bigger on top than Edith Piaf. I was a little bit over the top and out the sides…This gave me cleavage any Oscar attending woman would envy… “
⦁ Denise:
⦁ “You are bigger on top than everybody, Sylvia. Here is the story, my dear: This gown, this faaaabulous gown, was made for Edith Piaf to wear to the Oscars in 1948. She was going to sing at the very first televised Oscars. But she was not a healthy woman, as I’m sure you know. In those days to fly from Paris to the U.S. was a long, long flight; She never came , never wore or even saw a picture of the gown made so perfectly for her. This gown is yours. But it’s not free, no, it’s not…, if you get my meaning…you will have to do some things to get it….”
⦁ “Walk around with the gown on…”
⦁ Al kissed me, Judy and Denise did too….”
⦁ I stopped her story and I kissed her too.
⦁ ” I did a star walk around the room. Everyone was was clapping and giving me the
⦁ “Oooooooohhh-ahhhhhhhh.”
⦁ ” It fit me; ass, hips, shoulders, tummy, hem…and it made my breasts, that I had always hated, look, well ….great Hollywood word… “Fabulous”. Oooooohhhh… I was just sixteen years old. The big room had mirrors everywhere, full length, of course. I was in heaven, tossing my head, looking at myself in this green beaded dress, my red curls, my breasts falling out the top. Denise said,
⦁ “Remember, I told you Desiree was kinky? Sylvia, I’m not giving away any secrets, am I , if I say that you like that a little, too? I do, Judy does, Devon and Barbara like that too, all of us do. You are so crazy, Sylvia, we love you so much. (I was melting for joy. I thought I had no friends) Do you think…oh how I shall say it?”
⦁ Rolling her eyes upward for that extra dramatic touch she loved…
⦁ “Would you like to have lots and lots of sex? For your birthday? So many of us pleasing you? “..(Marilyn Monroe could not have said that with more hints of incredibly kinky things than she did.)..
⦁ .”If you can imagine me without words, yet again.”
⦁ ” Silkie ,I’m imagining how it would feel to…”
⦁ “Tom, I’m having some thoughts like that too, but please, let me finish…”
⦁ She said:
⦁ “But you have to sing a song for us in that dress, Sylvia, do you understand?”
⦁ “Did I understand? My mother loved Edith Piaf, had her picture up on the wall of her bedroom. She had been playing her music and singing her songs for me since I was little. I had the songs in my head before Denise posed the question. So there I was, a snotty, bratty little girl, not at all pretty, sixteen, in Edith Piaf’s 1948 Oscar gown, in Desiree Duncan’s bedroom, singing “La Vie en Rose”, three or four more of her songs, ending, of course, with “Je Ne Regnette Pas” (I Have No Regrets). My friends and my sister were playing behind me. The song was an odd one for a privileged, sheltered girl like me, but I didn’t care, fuck it, I was twirling, twirling around, gesturing with my face and body, my arms and my hands, as if I were in Paris during the war, the Gestapo was waiting, bored, in the wings, looking at their watches, waiting for me to complete this foolish song, the only thing I had left, waiting to slap a blindfold on me, lead me to the firing squad in the cobbled, rain-soaked alley outside the theater, six young German boys who were going to aim their rifles at my face, while I ripped off the fucking blindfold, smoked a Gaulois, blew the smoke in the air, ground out the cigarette with the toe of my elegant high-heeled shoe, looked into their faces, cursed their mothers and taunted them about their tiny penises, I put the silver crucifix I always wore over my bared breast and told them, in a low voice, “Viser a le Crucifix” (aim at the crucifix”). Of course, in my flight of fantasy, I am wearing this green beaded gown. “
⦁ “Somehow I got back from that imaginary voyage, and was back in Desiree’ Duncan’s art-deco bedroom. After I did three or four Edith Piaf songs, ” L’hymme L’amour” and ” La Foule”, pretty famous Edith songs if you know her music at all. Well, after I did them, I still had my gown and make-up on. Jimmie took his saxophone out and Al brought his bass over to where I was standing, and the three of us did some songs I had learned from my mom and her friends. “Where Would I be Without You?”. I learned that from my Nina Simone record. “Skylark”, “What is There to Say?” , something by Anita O’Day, “Let Me Off Uptown”, “My One and Only Love” and of course, the best song for this setting, “Ain’t Nobody’s Business if I Do”, a song where I could shake my boobs, wiggle my ass and raise my eyebrows on every phrase just to squeeze every possible dirty meaning out of every lyric. There was nobody there to stop me or tell me to slow down… Everybody in the room was singing it with me at the end. I got hugs and kisses from everybody, a big cake with candles with my name on it, and a toy car to represent the one I would soon be driving. I got a little note from Judy with an IOU for some spanking. Al and Jimmie and some of the other k**s were playing some old ballads and swing tunes. The delicious food from the kitchen came up in a “dumbwaiter” that opened right into Desiree’s bedroom. It was such a great birthday.”
⦁ “Judy whispered in my ear. She said all I had to do to keep the dress was to have sex with everybody there.
⦁ ” Oh my. Well, as they say,. it was a dirty job, but somebody had to do it.”
⦁ “You had sex with ten people?”
⦁ “Oh, Tom. Not all at the same time, c’mon. I’m not Wonder Woman. Did you ever do an orgy or have sex with more than one person in your bed or whatever?”
⦁ “No”
⦁ “Oh baby, I like to make having sex and having a party with my dear ones be sort of the same thing? Would you ever think of doing something like that with me, or would you get all jealous and possessive.? Think about that. Think about seeing me with another man or woman…”
⦁ “It was a party, I had a ton of sex, I know that. I got so high on the marijuana and everything else…I was happy. I wanted to show off and I wanted to share my body, taste everyone else… I told you I have a big appetite, Tom. If sex were food, I’d weigh about six hundred pounds.(laughing)..And of course, the dress. I was keep that gown.”
⦁ “There are a lot of details, Tom, and I know you love it when I tell you that part, but you are going to have to know me a little better or get me on another day to get all of that. I got my birthday spanking from Judy. I wasn’t about to give the gown back. I still have it. Wherever I go in my life, I keep that and my punching bag close at hand.”
⦁ “What I want to do now is to explore that getting to know me a little better part with you. I’ve been waiting for you for too long…”

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