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Blindsided 04
🕑 Added 2022-08-01 14:56:00 +0000 UTCFirst off the bus at Birmingham coach station, Robbie felt drained of energy. Taking a second to get his bearings, he caught his breath before trotting off into the main terminal building.
Being outside again after hours on the stuffy bus felt good, but it was hard to appreciate, given how strange he felt. Walking now felt bizarre. Every movement of his new modified body was a constant reminder of what had happened to him. Bouncing on his chest, the heavy weight of his twin mounds pulled him forward. To compensate for this, he needed to push back his shoulders and walk with his head held high, not an ideal situation for someone who didn’t want to be seen. He also couldn’t walk with his normal stride, his new booty and the wedges beneath each foot, causing him to take smaller steps. Making something as simple as walking from A to B take much longer than necessary.
Not sure where he was going, the stunned young man entered the building and wandered around until he saw a sign saying lockers. Finding the room, Robbie stopped in front of a row of lockers before opening his hand to examine the key he had been gripping so tightly it had left an indent in his palm.
Again, seeing the number seventy-eight engraved on the back of the key, he trotted over to the corresponding metal door before momentarily pausing.
Nervous, part of him didn’t want to know what was inside but walking away was not an option. He had come this far. He needed to know what secrets were hidden inside.
After missing the lock on his first attempt, Robbie managed to steady his shaking hands enough to thread the key into place. Click! He turned the key and swung open the locker.
Angrily, he slammed the door and turned his back. He felt like screaming! Screwing his hands into fists, Robbie closed his eyes and tensed every muscle in his body. Why was this happening to him? What had he done to deserve this? “I’ve had enough of this shit. I’m done,” he muttered as he turned to punch the locker door. But instead of smashing into hard metal, his hand collided with a soft pile of clothing. Realising the door must have swung back open again after he slammed it, Robbie looked inside and shook his head only to suddenly notice a phone.
Reaching, Robbie plucked the phone from amongst the soft black and white fabric and turned it on. As the screen lit up, so did his eyes. He was saved! But as the phone went through its booting up sequence, something suddenly dawned on him. Who was he going to call? His girlfriend, Holly? His mum? The Police? No way! Not in his current predicament. He’d never live it down.
Hearing a beep, Robbie looked down to see a message on the screen. “One voice message received," it read. Part of him wanted to throw the phone back in the locker and walk away, but he couldn't. The part of him that was curious enough to open the locker in the first place was also intrigued to hear what the message said.
HEY SPORTY SPICE,
GOOD JOB MAKING YOUR BUS. AND AS A REWARD YOU’VE EARNED YOURSELF ANOTHER UPGRADE. OH, YOU’RE GOING TO LOOK SUPER CUTE IN THIS ONE! (GIGGLE)
TO FIND YOUR NEXT DESTINATION, LOOK THROUGH THE PICTURES ON YOUR NEW PHONE. WHEN YOU’RE SITTING BY THE FOUNTAIN FULLY DRESSED IN YOUR SUPER CUTE NEW OUTFIT, SEND A SELFIE TO THIS NUMBER, AND YOU’LL RECEIVE A CALL.
OH, AND JUST IN CASE YOU GET ANY SMART IDEAS, LIKE IGNORING MY INSTRUCTIONS OR CALLING THE POLICE, DON’T. AMONGST THE OBVIOUS CHANGES YOU’VE NO DOUBT NOTICED; YOU MIGHT ALSO BE FEELING A BIT GROGGY TODAY. SURGERY WILL DO THAT TO YOU, BUT YOU’VE HAD PLENTY OF TIME TO RECOVER FROM THAT.
NO, YOU FEEL WEAK AS THERE IS A POISON COURSING THROUGH YOUR VEINS. IN A WEEK, YOU’LL BE DEAD!
BUT DON’T YOU WORRY, BUTTERCUP, I HAVE THE ANTIDOTE. AND IF YOU LISTEN TO MY INSTRUCTIONS AND COMPLETE ALL YOUR TASKS LIKE A GOOD LITTLE GIRL, EVERYTHING WILL BE OK. NOW, LET THE GAMES BEGIN.
For a few moments after the recording ended, Robbie stood frozen with his mouth gaping. What he had heard was hard to take and had shaken him to the core. Was this really happening, or was someone playing a sick joke on him? It didn’t make any sense. He was a nobody. He had no enemies. Who would want to do this to him?
Replaying the message again, Robbie listened carefully to every word and after confirming what he’d heard the first time, he slumped to the floor to sit at the base of the lockers. Surely the message was a joke, but what if it wasn’t? Was he really willing to risk his life? His whole body did feel strangely lethargic and weak today!
Noticing a businessman in a suit looking his way and about to say something, Robbie looked away and clambered to his elevated feet. Placing the phone into the waistband of his yoga pants, the shaking young man reached into the locker to gather up its contents. Tottering away, he needed time to think, and the privacy of a bathroom cubicle seemed as good a place as any.
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In position, with the embarrassing selfie sent, Robbie sat waiting for the phone to ring. Wondering what was taking so long. He was in the right place. Wasn’t he?
(See image 07)
Checking the pictures on the phone again, he saw the map with a pin placed over a shopping center, and a second that matched the fountain behind him. Convinced he was in the right place he looked down feeling humiliated. It was bad enough wearing the pink sports outfit, but this new outfit was just cruel. Having just changed in a nearby bathroom, he could still remember the looks of curiosity as he shuffled over to his current position and snapped a selfie.
He was obviously dressed to stand out in an outfit that looked a cross between a French maid and a Lolita costume. If he had previously felt odd, he now felt like he was on the verge of an existential crisis. From the poofy skirt flapping around his legs to the caress of the tights clinging to his hairless legs, everything just felt wrong!
Suddenly, the phone started ringing. Taking a deep breath, Robbie answered.
“Ooh la la! Looking hawt there girly,” said the same female voice as the recording from earlier.
“Who is this, and why are you doing this to me?” Robbie replied frantically, trying to work out where he’d heard the voice before.
“Hey, I ask the questions here. You listen. Is that clear?” Came a firm reply.
“No, it’s not clear. Who the hell are you, and why are you doing this?” Robbie yelled.
“Last chance, Honeybun, If you speak again, I’m hanging up.”
“But… please. I… Hello! Hello.” The phone went dead, leaving Robbie angry and frustrated. He tried calling back, but after four attempts, he realised that no one was going to answer. Placing the phone down, he put his head in his hands and felt like crying.
Twenty-five, soul-crushingly long minutes later, the phone finally rang again. Picking it up, this time, Robbie stayed quiet.
“I hope you’ve learnt your lesson,” the voice said. “Next time, I won’t be calling back.”
“Yes, I’m sorry,” Robbie meekly replied, feeling like a complete sissy.
“Good. I accept your apology, but for your outburst earlier, you must be punished,” the woman said with a chuckle. “For your forfeit, you’re going to dye your hair blonde. When you're done, return to the fountain. Take another selfie, and I'll call back.”
“But I have no money. How am I supposed to…” The line went dead again, leaving Robbie fuming. “Son of a bitch,” he screamed, causing a few heads to turn in his direction.
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Walking into the chime of a bell, the unfamiliar chemical smell of a woman’s beauty salon clawed at Robbie’s throat. After sitting by the fountain for a further forty-five minutes staring at the phone, he had come to the scary conclusion that the woman wasn’t calling back.
In almost a trance-like state, he had risen to his wedge-soled feet and set off, plodding around the shopping center with no particular destination in mind. That’s when he’d seen the sign, “Beauty by Shar.” With nothing to lose, he'd walked in through the door.
“Hello there. Can I help you with something?” Shar, the owner of the salon said while looking Robbie up and down.
“Err… Hi,” Robbie replied, embarrassed as he looked over at a strikingly beautiful woman. “I was hoping you could err... maybe dye my hair blonde. Is that something you do here?”
“Honey, this is a beauty salon. Of course, we do that here,” Shar replied with a chuckle. “Would you like to make an appointment?”
Looking up at the woman who had a few inches on him in height, even in his wedged shoes, Robbie gritted his teeth. “Well, I was hoping you could do it now. It’s a bit of an emergency, you see. And… err… I don’t really have any money on me right now.”
“No money! What do you think this is? A charity?” Shar exclaimed, shaking her head, and sending her braids flying.
“Please! It really is an emergency. And as soon as I get home, I’ll wire you the money. I promise.” Robbie begged while lowering his head, feeling utterly humiliated.
“Sorry, Sweety but businesses don’t work like that. No money. No blonde hair for you.” Shar said, throwing her arms out and rolling her eyes.
(See image 08)
“But, then again,” Shar suddenly announced while looking Robbie over once again. “Perhaps we can come to some kind of arrangement.”
