Porcelain

Story about plastic surgery.

I feel a little sore. Not too bad, it just stings a little when I try to lift my arms. But nothing of value has ever been achieved without a fair share of suffering. I want this. It has been a long time since I could really see my breasts but now it’s possible. I pray that it isn’t simply swelling that will later pass as my flesh heals. The surgeon said there would be no or perhaps very little scarring. I try not to move at all, just lay here under my white clean sheets and feel my body rebuilding and recreating me in a new and more desirable fashion.

My tits look rather bluish greenish but I have been told that is normal. It’s the bruising. I feel more woman than before and more beautiful even with my marks. Everyone will notice and not be really sure what is different but will still see that something has changed me. My face is getting work done on it soon as well. Now, in hindsight, I could have just done it all in one go, but I was afraid of the pain. Money was never a problem; it is always easy to make a living with a pretty face. And now it will go faster to get work and to stay where I want to be.

My mother used to make fun of my big lips, but now they are my number one asset, so the lips were never really a problem. My nose, on the other hand, needs to be smaller and less noticeable. It will put focus on my eyes and my luscious lips. Sure, I am getting older but I still have a few years ahead of me before I get replaced by the new blood. My combination of sophistication and erotic persona has for a long time been my trademark, but even a strong label needs renewal.

It hurts pretty badly near my armpits but I assume that too shall pass. The blood dries and sticks to my bandages that later peel off and that opens up the wounds again. But I will just have to stay strong and remember why I am here. Those who complain and whine about the high price of success soon find themselves without it and I am indeed very aware of this. In my many years in the business I have seen more falling stars than most astronomers. Everything for so long as I can remember has tried to retract me to the ashes I came from. Gravitation tries to claim your tits; sun shrivels your skin but still demands your presence before it in order to have the correct type of tan and to not be viewed as repulsively pale.

These last years I have felt like a living dead in denial and that my audience is constantly trying to get a little peek behind my mask to make the true me eternal on the web to mock and ridicule. Sometimes I wish I could just stop time and the decaying of my cells, and remain a porcelain goddess forever and suck up the praise and attention without any regard to my age. But everything will improve now. I have finally lain down under the blade and readied myself for a new age and prepared for my part in it. I should see it as an opportunity which was previously unavailable to the legends of old.

Complaining will not change anything; it will only make my submergence into obscurity a much faster one. Become a nobody, something very last year not worth a brief chance at getting attention. And that will be the end of me. So when the work is done on that little nose ridge of mine everything should be fine a few years, assuming my thighs stay tight the way I want them to. Maybe I should ask a nurse to close the drapes; I can feel the sun coming in.

Reviews

[Aarontastic]

I loved this! I think it's the perfect portrait of a glamorous girl under the knife. I like how, as the story proceeds, it subtly reveals more and more about the woman at the center of the story: her insecurities, her status, her occupation all come into sharper focus from one paragraph to the next. Nothing is ever stated overtly, but at the end there is no doubt about how fragile this girl's self esteem is since it hinges on her looks alone.

At the same time, I felt like it was a dissection of the nature of plastic surgery; reading this forces you to think about its ephemeral benefits, and how it even dehumanizes you a bit. The character's very decision to get a procedure like this one done is a capitulation of sorts to the reality of decline that everyone who lives long enough has to face up to.

Good writing is all about being subtle and knowing how to show restraint imo and you do that very well.

[Clematis33]

Great write!

[Dean Kuch®]

I loved the line, 'in my many years in the business I have seen more falling stars than most astronomers'. That lended a little sarcastic flavor to your character. I just love sarcasm...Good read!