Blindsided 07

Two bus rides later, having asked a few random people on the street for directions, Robbie finally found himself looking up at the sign above the door of Grandma’s attic. “Of course, it’s a costume shop,” he thought to himself glumly as he got a distinct feeling that his short time back in pants was about to come to an end.

Inside the long but narrow store, Robbie looked around to see colourful clothes lining both walls in a variety of shiny cheap looking materials. At the far end, a bored-looking woman sat behind a counter where she texted away on her phone, seemingly oblivious to Robbie’s presence.

Inhaling a lung full of the musty air circulating the room, Robbie began to cough as the dust clawed at his throat.

“Can I help you?” Came a voice from behind the counter.

Stepping forward, Robbie coughed a few more times to clear his airways before looking down at the thin, surly-looking woman. “Yes, I’m looking for Tinkerbell.” He said as he wiped at his watery eyes.

“So, you’re Tinkerbell?” the woman said in her strong, Brummy accent while cracking half a smile. “I was wondering who would show up.”

“No, I’m not Tinkerbell, I’m Ro…. Oh, never mind,” Robbie replied, rolling his eyes. “Look, I was told to come here and ask for Tinkerbell. Do you have a message or something for me?”

The woman placed her index finger in the centre of her glasses. “Well, I have a pickup for Tinkerbell, but you just said you weren’t Tinkerbell?” She stated while repositioning her glasses and looking confused.

“A pickup? As in a costume?” Robbie asked.

“No, a Ferrari,” the woman scoffed. “Of course, a costume! Look around you, genius. What do you see?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Robbie replied in an annoyed tone. “Real great customer service you’ve got here! So, can I have it?”

“Have what?” The woman replied.

“The Ferrari,” Robbie answered while shaking his head and tutting.

“Ha, that’s funny,” the woman replied before chuckling. “I see what you did there. That's clever. But no. Unfortunately, I can’t give it to you.”

Robbie opened his mouth ready to shout but managed to stop himself at the last moment. “And why is that?” He asked while forcing a smile.”

“Well, that's obvious, isn't it? The package is for Tinkerbell. That’s the name on the pick-up. That means I can only give the package to Tinkerbell, and that's not you, is it?”

Tensing every muscle in his upper body, Robbie almost blew a blood vessel before taking a deep breath. “Forget what I said before. I’m Tinkerbell,” he said while grinning like the idiot he felt.

“Do you have any ID to prove that?” the woman asked.

“No, I don’t have any ID!” Robbie screamed, finally losing his cool. “I’m really not in the mood for this. Come on. Think about it. You have a package for Tinkerbell, and I came in asking for it. Who else would I be? I mean, how busy can a costume shop in April be? What are the chances two people are called Tinkerbell?"

The woman thought for a moment. “You do make a fair point,” she said while nodding her head. “ok, wait here.” She added before disappearing into the back room, only to return a few seconds later carrying a plastic bag. “Here it is Tinkerbell. Would you like to try it on?” She said while placing the bag on the counter.

“No,” Robbie snarled. “That won’t be necessary, but can you tell me who ordered this?”

“Some guy called in first thing this morning. He picked out the costume and said Tinkerbell would pick it up later. It all seemed a bit strange, but he bought the costume outright. So, whatever. A sale's a sale in my book.”

“What did he look like, this man?” Robbie asked as he picked up the bag and peered inside to see a sea of green.

“He was a big guy, muscly with dark hair. He looked like he could have been perhaps Italian.” The woman answered as a dreamy expression crossed her thin face. "Why do you know him?"

“Erm... no. Thanks for the help,” Robbie mumbled as his attention turned to a white envelope he'd just noticed sitting atop a pile of green fabric. Placing the bag back on the counter, he ripped open the envelope, apprehensive about the impending next set of instructions he was about to receive.

HEY THERE TINKERBELL,

IT'S FORFEIT TIME. PUT ON THE COSTUME AND TAKE A BUS TO CANNON HILL PARK. TO COMPLETE YOUR TASK, I REQUIRE TWO PICTURES. ONE OF YOU STANDING ON THE BUS IN FULL COSTUME, AND A SECOND TAKEN IN THE PARK AS YOU PLANT A KISS ON A RANDOM MAN OF YOUR CHOICE. SEND THEM THROUGH BEFORE 3 PM, OR IT’S GAME OVER.

GOOD LUCK, TINK. OH, AND I DO HOPE HE'S HANDSOME.

Slowly screwing up the note, Robbie looked back at the woman behind the counter who was already back scrolling through her phone. “Ahem! If it’s still ok with you, I’d like to try on the costume.

======================================================

With his feet now squashed painfully into a pair of heeled ankle boots, Robbie plonked his tired body down onto a park bench. Letting out a groan, the feeling of relief to be off his aching feet was by far trumped by the humiliation of being dressed like a complete and utter sissy.

Shuffling his pantied backside around on the wooden planks, Robbie tried and failed to find a comfortable position as he avoided the gaze of dog walkers and office workers out for their lunch. Not an easy task when wearing an indecently short green dress accompanied by a huge set of wings. Having just pressed the send button on his phone, he looked down at the picture still on the screen and scoffed.

(See image 12)

Suddenly the phone started ringing. Answering, Robbie placed it to his ear.

“Oh my, look at you! I guess you are some kind of sissy fairy after all,” the woman on the phone announced before giggling.

Robbie’s mouth fell open as he almost dropped the phone. The sentence had triggered something in his memories. He'd thought the voice sounded familiar, but now he knew who it was. “Agatha? From the bar?” he questioned in a shaky voice. “Is that you?”

The voice on the line let out a loud hearty laugh. “Took you long enough to realise,” Agatha said, between chuckles. “Who was the guy in the kissing photo? Your boyfriend?”

“What! No! He was just some random guy I found in the park,” Robbie shot back, aghast. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter. What the fuck did you do to me and why? I have tits, for fucks sake!”

“Now, now beautiful, calm down and watch your language,” Agatha replied in a serious tone. “You’ve been warned before about speaking out of turn. You’ll get your answers in time, but for now, you listen. Otherwise, I'll hang up, and you'll die a horribly painful death before your friends and family bury you thinking you’re some kind of freak pervert. Say, sorry mistress, if you understand.”

Wanting to scream, Robbie bit his tongue and paused for a few seconds before finally giving Agatha the reply she wanted.

“Now, that’s better. From now on, you will only answer questions when asked and you will always refer to me as Mistress. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Robbie muttered, again biting his tongue, and feeling deflated as he looked down at his cleavage, spilling out the top of his tiny green dress.

“Yes, what?” Agatha asked.

“Yes, mistress,” Robbie spat, feeling sick to his stomach.

“Good, very good, my little fairy,” Agatha replied with a snigger. “Now tell me more about the picture from the park. Who took it? And how many people did you have to ask before you got that shot?”

Feeling his face going flush, Robbie squirmed in his seat. “It was taken by the man’s friend,” he snarled. “And yes, I had to ask a few people just like you wanted, I assume?”

“Attitude, Blondie!” Agatha announced. “And be specific. How many people did you ask?”

Shaking with rage, Robbie closed his eyes. “I don’t know, twenty-five, thirty perhaps.”

Agatha burst out laughing, “Wonderful. Well worth it, I’d say for such a precious picture. But I’m sure that hunk of a man was disappointed to only get a kiss on the cheek. We’ll have to fix that when you complete your next forfeit.”

“Next forfeit!” Robbie hollered. “For what?”

“For the way you spoke to me earlier, of course,” Agatha stated firmly. “And was that a question I just heard? That’s another forfeit for you.”

“No, I mean yes, I mean… I'm sorry Mistress. Please, no more forfeits. Please!” Robbie begged out of desperation.

Oh, little one, you still don’t seem to grasp what is going on here, do you? I'm in charge here. Complete and utter control. I tell you to do something, and you do it. Without question or complaint,” Agatha firmly stated. “Now, at the northwest entrance to the park, you’ll find a rubbish bin. On the underside, I’ve left you a gift. Go and get it, fairy boy.” She added before the line went dead.

Utterly humiliated and more than a little flustered, Robbie dropped the phone onto his skirted lap as a tear rolled down his face, making him feel even more like the sissy he was dressed as. “I can’t do this anymore! He said aloud as he closed his eyes and bowed his head. “I can’t!”