BABY GIGOLO.

Haunted Venus

In a world filled with opulent luxury and luxurious opulence, in a world where glitz ruled and glamor came at a heavy price, in a world where stars were born and faded as quickly, Marilyn Monroe reigned supreme.

She had everything, men, mansions, fame and fortune, but there was one thing she craved above all else; a good pair of shoes - and it haunted her.

Wattpad short story competition WINNER.

Hollywood Legend: Marilyn Monroe.

Prompt #3 Give a girl the right kind of shoes and she'll conquer the world.

~•~

She walked up to the front door of her Hollywood mansion. Her butler opened the door with a low bow. Holding his arm at an angle, Marilyn threw her mink coat over it with the words, "the usual James."

"The bottle of Dom Perignon is on ice and your pills are waiting next to it, Miss Monroe."

She kicked off her shoes and threw herself onto a beautifully handcrafted chaise longue.

"Dreadful, absolutely the most dreadful day on set, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't do anything right. First, there was that awful director Mr. Billy Wilder who, after the tenth take of a silly scene, angrily flung himself in his Director's Chair and, looking over the rim of his glasses told me, "Miss Monroe, we are shooting a movie called 'The Seven-Year Itch.' It doesn't mean it should take us that long to finish.

How dare he? The cast and crew stood around, clearly enjoying my humiliation. I have never felt so bad. And all the time that terrible shoes the wardrobe mistress gave me, pinched in all the wrong places. How could he expect me to concentrate while I'm being tortured like that? I'm never going back there."

James had, in the meantime, poured her a glass of champagne and, handing it to her with her pills said, "There, there, Miss Monroe. You'll feel better in no time and the world will look better in the morning."
She downed it with one swig.

"Another one," she commanded, "and tell Eunice to run me a milk bath, at the right temperature. The last one was too hot. I swear it's getting harder to find good help these days. And tell the kitchen to whip me up a good salad."

"As you wish, Miss Monroe," he said and left her to relax.

The second glass she sipped more slowly, going over the events of the day, wondering what she could do better tomorrow, knowing that Mr Wilder will not be so accommodating.

She dropped her empty glass on the table and closed her eyes. The cool darkness behind her lids spread through her body, relaxing every muscle.

It was not a dream. It was not a hallucination. It had the feeling of immediate reality.

She approached the bath and the touch of the marble tiles under her feet calmed her frazzled nerves, making her look forward to a long nice bath. She untied the belt of her silk monogrammed gown and let it slip to the floor. She stood there - naked - exposing that magnificent body; a mixture of primordial sensuality and delicate fragility, the fantasy of every American man, the envy of every woman and the idol of every teenager.

The effect of the bubbly and pills were starting to mess with her head and in a dreamlike confusion, she saw the smooth surface of the milk bath ripple.

It's strange. It has never done that before, she thought bewildered.

She hesitated. The waves settled down. She dipped her big toe in it and with horror saw it melting and, although still attached to her foot, floating on the surface. With a shiver of revulsion, she pulled it back and when she looked down, all was normal. A feeling of dread crept through her veins.