Blindsided 10

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Robbie muttered as he looked down at his feminine-looking body encased in a skimpy outfit.

“Do you want to leave? We don’t have to do this, you know?” Shar replied from the driver’s seat of her car, parked up next to club Lush.

“No! I have to do this,” Robbie shot back. “I just feel so really strange. And it’s not just this outfit and ridiculous shoes. I’ve got a killer headache, aches and pains all over, and I can't stop shaking.

“That’s probably just the nerves and lack of sleep,” Shar replied before flashing him a reassuring smile. “And sorry about the outfit, it’s all I could find at such short notice. I don’t go clubbing much these days, not since I met my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend! You never mentioned a boyfriend before,” Robbie said as the image of some man coming into the house to find him sleeping on the sofa flashed through his mind.

“Yeah, but he’s away with the military right now,” Shar answered while turning to look out of the window. “He’s away most of the year, so we don’t get to see each other as much as I’d like. Anyway, It looks like the queue has died down, and Terrance is on his own. Now might be a good time to go and talk to him.”

“Yeah, but can I have your shoes instead of these ones? You saw how I walked to the car. I almost broke my ankle.” Robbie asked with a pleading look.

“Sorry, Robbie. No can do," Shar replied, shaking her head. "The shoes match your nails and makeup. And a girl like you, going to a place like this, would know how to colour coordinate. Just walk slow. You shouldn’t be in a rush to get over there. A girl going here wants to be seen. She wants to be checked out.”

Robbie gulped and shook his head from side to side. “You’re not helping my nerves, you know?” Robbie replied as his shaky hand reached out for the door handle. “I don’t suppose you have a coat I could borrow, do you?” he added, looking down in disgust at his exposed thighs poking out from beneath his tiny pink skirt.

“Just go will you," Shar replied, giving Robbie a gentle push on the shoulder. It's not that cold out, and you’re going to a cloakroom, remember? There's most likely a coat waiting for you there. What are you going to do with two coats?" Grunting out of frustration, Robbie threaded his pink polished nails through the strap of his purse and exited the car.

The slam of the car door made the crossdressed man jump slightly. On edge and suddenly feeling vulnerable and exposed, he looked around the dimly lit car park as a light breeze tickled his exposed legs and arms.

Mustering up all of his strength and courage, Robbie clutched the cloakroom ticket tightly in the palm of his hand and set off across towards the club on his wobbly legs. Ignoring the annoying strands of blonde hair flapping across his face, Robbie tottered on, all the while constantly being reminded of how he was dressed by the tiny mincing steps he was forced to take and the loud clicking sound of his stiletto heels.

(See image 17)

Grinning from ear to ear, Terrance watched Robbie approach from his position on the door before licking his lips loudly as the scantily dressed man stopped in front of him.

“I’m here,” Robbie announced as he looked up at Terrance, trying not to let his nerves show.

“I can see that Sweetheart,” Terrance replied while chuckling. “Are you on the list?”

“Erm… what list? You said you’d let me in.” Robbie stated angrily while shaking his head.

“Ahh, Little fairy,” Terrance hollered, suddenly realising who he was speaking to. “Sorry, I didn’t recognise ya there, Doll. You scrub up nicely, don't cha. Turn around and let me see.”

Letting out a sigh, Robbie did a slow twirl before suddenly yelling out as he felt a hand squeeze his panted backside through his tight pink skirt. “Hey! What the hell, Dude? Robbie cried, quickly spinning back around before teetering on his heels for balance.

“Sorry, Little fairy. Couldn’t resist,” Terrance said with a smile.

“Well, try,” Robbie shot back irritably. “So, are you going to let me in or what?”

“Sure,” Terrance answered, leaning down slightly and turning his head. “The entry price is a kiss.”

Lowered his head, Robbie grunted. “Of course, it is,” he muttered under his breath. “Fine,” he added before having to raise himself onto his tiptoes as even wearing four-inch heels, he was still too short to reach the bouncer’s cheek.

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The cloakroom attendant gave Robbie a curious look. “Is this your box?” He asked in a confused-sounding voice.

“Erm… yes,” A smiling Robbie replied, taking the box from the man, and clutching it to his chest.

“Ok, enjoy your evening, Miss,” the attendant said before turning his back.

Seeing a sign for the bathrooms, Robbie trotted over and decided to use the women’s, considering how he was dressed. Heading straight for a stall, he locked the door, placed down the seat, and took the weight off his aching feet. His full focus then fell on the item in his hands. It was about the size of a ring box and seemed a strange thing to store in the cloakroom of a nightclub, no wonder the attendant looked at him so strangely. Opening the lid, he found a folded piece of paper with what he assumed to be a telephone number written on it and a matt black earpiece.

Opening his purse, Robbie found his phone and typed in the number. Holding his breath, It rang twice before Agatha answered. “Wow, I’m impressed. You made it inside. Good work, girlfriend.”

Biting his tongue, Robbie reframed from saying what he really wanted to say. “Yes, I’m here. Now what?”

“Oh, so grumpy tonight. I love it,” Agatha replied with a giggle. “Perhaps Missy isn't feeling so well. Headaches. Sharp stabbing pains. How bad are they on a scale of one to ten?”

“Ten,” Robbie declared angrily. “But how do you know that?”

“Oopsie, I guess someone may have given you a little too much poison. It seems your frail sissy body can’t handle a real man’s dose,” Agatha announced. “But don’t worry, snowflake. We’ll get you a little tonic that will delay the effects. Well, If you’re a good girl and complete tonight's task, that is.” She added before laughing loudly.

“What the fuck? You can’t be serious? What task? Robbie screamed down the phone in horror.

“Now, now, we’ve talked about this potty mouth of yours before, haven't we?” Agatha said, switching to a serious tone. “I’ll let it slide this time as you’ve just been given some stressful news. But remember who your talking to. A woman who literally holds your life in her hands. Now, you’ve no doubt found the earpiece. Connect it to the Bluetooth on your phone and put it in the ear covered by your hair. When your set up, I want to hear you say, I’m ready, Mistress Agatha.”

Wanting to tell the bitch to fuck off and smash the phone under the heel of his pink pump, Robbie took a deep breath before taking a second to do what he was told.

“Good,” Agatha said after hearing Robbie's voice. Her voice now coming through the earpiece rather than the phone speaker. “Ok, now down to business. From here on out, I don’t need to hear your voice, so put the phone in your cute little purse. I'll instruct you on what to do next when you've exited the bathroom.”

Heaving his femininely dressed body up onto its shaky legs, Robbie dropped the phone into his purse before staggering out of the cubicle. Stumbling, he managed to catch himself on a counter just before he fell. Glaring at his face caked in makeup through the mirror above the sink, he felt like screaming. “Hurry up now, princess,” the voice in his ear boomed. “Time is ticking. If you pass out before you get your tonic. You’re done!”

“Yeah, and whose fault would that be? You crazy cow.” Robbie muttered as he gazed at the two round globes attached to his chest. He wondered how his parents would react when the police informed them that they had found the feminised corpse of their son, dressed like some slut, in a random Birmingham nightclub! Would they remember him as some sort of pervert?