Alternate Players
By Tyrone Slothrop
Opening. A Fine Spring
Day in North America, Western Seaboard. Reality Plus 3
The shadows
crept closer, triggering deep instincts to flee or fight, instincts thinly
covered by the fragile layer we call civilization. Robert turned around,
struggling to see what they were, his hands making fists to offset the shaking.
“Bobbie! Wake up you lazy bitch! We have to be at the
closing this morning!” Jenny’s voice was never more grating than when she was
being heard in the middle of a nightmare.
Robert slowly let himself come awake, his hands still
tightly wrapped, fingernails making painful indentations in his palms. He
glanced at the alarm clock. 7:30 AM.
“Oh Shit Jenny! Look at the time! I told you to wake me so I
could get ready!” Robert threw back the comforter and satin sheets, sprang from
the bed, and paddled barefoot into his bathroom, his negligee fluttering in
his self made breeze.
“You always take forever to get ready, Bobbie..just get a
move on! It isn’t every day we get to sell the business and retire! Come over
in an hour for breakfast and you can help me with my hair.”
“Help you? You’re the woman, dammit…..”
“As if that meant anything in this reality, sweetie. You’re ever
so much better at being a girl …..” Jenny ducked to avoid a pillow as she
exited the room, retreating to her own across the hall.
Robert stared at his reflection while he emptied his
bladder, holding the gauzy almost transparent babydoll out of the way. Almost
two years here and I occasionally still feel like an outsider in my own skin.
Hmmm , such smooth skin, taut muscles but no bulk, at least I am still six
two…and damned if my ass isn’t getting larger…well a girl can always hope.
The telescreen in the corner played a morning show, Mattie
and Doris in Good Morning Colonial America, a portrait of the Queen in his
robes hanging between the telegenic co- anchors as they bantered back and
forth. Mattie had new spiral curls flowing over the shoulders of his sleeveless
top. Robert paid close attention, wondering how he would look with that style.
Doris was the more conservative, her hair in the usual French twist, her bolero
jacket accentuating the thrust of her famous breasts. They were prattling on
about the hurricane bearing down on the Florida Coast, extending sympathy to
the subjects of the Spanish Crown.
Turning to the task at hand of making himself presentable,
Robert removed his negligee and set it neatly in the hamper, while stepping out
of his panties and managing to use his big toe to send them in an arc to the
same location.
Robert put his hand on his hip and struck a pose in the full
length mirror, his face still covered in green facial goo and his hair looming
large in a box pattern of two inch diameter purple rollers. He made kissing
lips and held the pose while he admired his naked, lean long torso and smooth
light brown skin, with no sign of an errant body hair. His penis and scrotum
fronted his new plushly plumped rear end, while his other hand caressed his
tightly muscled thigh, the inch long coral nails contrasting with his tan
beautifully.
Fit in! Don’t fight the persona you reside in…that’s what
the Gray Lady said just before the last time we shifted realities…just before
her goons tried to kill us…or are they someone else’s goons? “If you don’t get
comfortable and embrace the reality, they will be able to find you…it’s like
holding up a lightning rod in a storm…” she had whispered, her cigar dribbling
ashes as it jiggled up and down in her mouth while she spoke.
So this time I ‘embraced’ the reality and we’ve made it
two years without them coming after us. But damn, I’m such a girl now. Of
course, there isn’t even a word for ‘boy’ here, or ‘guy’ , just male and female
girls…oh well, time to have a bath and then do my hair and face…
Maybe the burgundy suit with the knee length skirt with
the pleats…and a petti-slip? Or maybe the red dress?
Robert smiled as he stepped into the warm bathwater, keeping
his rollers away from any splashes, feeling the soothing oils covering his
skin.
Across the hall, Jenny threw on a robe and slippers and
headed for the kitchen.
Sheesh, Bobbie is such a femmy now. The meeting’s not
until noon, and he wants hours and hours to get ready. Well, after what
happened the last time, when he was captured, all that pain , I guess he intends
to ‘become the reality’. Maybe I should tell him he makes me really hot like
this ....no, we need to stay best friends to survive this mess we’ve fallen
into, wherever it leads, but damn, he’s sooo sexy…Damn damn damn….
Robert exited the tub, drying himself with the huge white
fluffy towel. He stepped into a pair of rose panties, taking time to tuck his
scrotum and penis into the pouches inside. Women have bras, we have these to
bitch about…funny.
Pinching his waist, he managed to draw out a tiny love
handle, which made him grimace with disgust. I’ll be wearing shapers forever
here, it’s hopeless. Maybe I should talk to the doc who did my buttocks…she
didn’t move enough fat around …Damn the new Queen with his fat ass! Ever since
Bertie took over from his momma, all the male fashionistas have been padding
their butts to match his big blubbery one. Good thing he doesn’t have
gynecomastia too, or I’d be wearing one of Jenny’s bras…
He sat down at his vanity and lit the ‘office fluorescent’
setting on his makeup mirror. His now generously sized butt cheeks made the
stool quite comfortable as he began applying foundation after drawing in his
arched eyebrows. His mind went into a trancelike, focused state as he worked on
the creation of his public “Daytime, Business Face”, each brushstroke a ritual
he had painstakingly built up over the last two years.
Checking the mirror brought satisfaction. Despite the head
full of rollers, his eyes were attention grabbing, long, thick lashes with
substantial curl, his face a light brown with no imperfections, with subtle
color bringing out his cheekbones.
“You’ll do. The Queen’s Treasury Woman won’t keep her eyes
off you, and probably won’t keep her hands off this huge butt.” Robert said to
the empty room.
He selected a housecoat and slippers, grabbed his hair care
tools and proceeded to the kitchen , where the smells of Jenny’s omelets
wafted into his nose. Shallots, button mushrooms, fontina cheese and eggs all
worked in a symphony of scent.
Jenny’s house in this reality was an old colonial on a tree
lined street, dating back to the Great Misunderstanding with the English Crown.
She always seemed to be the landlady and he the renter, just like back home.
“Jenny! That smells so good! I’m dying for food!”
“You promised to do my hair, right?”
“Oh, shit, Jenny, that’s blackmail! Using food to coerce me-
that was against the rules!”
“I learned from you, boss, and that was far away and who
knows how long ago…now here’s your coffee, sit down and shut up, these omelets
won’t stay hot forever…” Jenny neatly slid his portion onto his plate with a
twist of her wrist.
Robert brought the coffee to his lips, feeling the heat of
the cup softening his lipstick, the aroma igniting memories of flavor. He
swallowed and began delicately eating his eggs, savoring each morsel.
“It’s hard to believe we’re throwing the business away just
to follow the leads, Bobbie, but there’s no other way I suppose.”
Robert slowly looked up and knew Jenny just wanted
confirmation, affirmation, something. He had known her since they were four
years old. They had played together, shared secrets, shared first kisses,
diverged in high school, met again after college when he rented a room in her parent’s
old house. They went to war when their Guard Unit was called up, survived, came
back and started an investment fund business as senior and junior partners.
“Jenny, nothing’s changed. We need to find out what’s going
on. They will find us again, and again and again. No matter how much we
‘adjust’. We need to find that professor.”
Jenny reached out and touched his hand, gently. Her eyes
opened wide, trusting Robert completely. “Yeah, I know, I know. It must be some
damn female instinct, nesting or some rot. We change realities and have to
start over, like ants whose anthill has been stepped on. It pisses me off…”
Robert nodded. He kissed Jenny’s forehead. This is the
best friend I ever had…good thing we were never lovers, that would complicate
the hell out of this…but damn she’s hot in this place…. Damn damn damn….
“Breakfast was fabulous, as usual, Jen. Now do you want your
hair up, or down?”
“Oh, up and out of my way, Bobbie. Maybe like you did for
that cocktail party we threw last Christmas?” Jenny had always been a tomboy
back home, but as the reality changes mounted, she reveled in the finer points
of femininity.
“Ah, the one with the barrel curls and the sweep off the
crown!, Yes, that works. Tall, slim and elegant. Okay, Jenny darlin’, sit still
and let’s take those rollers out, let Bobbie work his magic….”
Two hours later, Jenny waited at the door, the cab driver
patiently sitting, drinking her third cup of coffee while they awaited Robert’s
entrance.
“Good coffee, Mum, I really appreciate it. Ain’t too many of
you swells would invite in a working girl to rest her feet.” The driver said,
adjusting her uniform skirt as she sat uncomfortably in the parlor, watching
Jenny tapping her stilettoed foot impatiently.
Jenny was a big woman, six foot three in her stocking feet,
with long arms and legs coupled with wide but slim shoulders. Today, with her
fiery red hair in Bobbie’s dramatic upsweep, huge curls hair sprayed into
statues crowning the top, her green eyes glistening, almost cat like against
her high cheekbones, wearing a black dress with a very low cut bodice, the tops
of her barely contained DD cup breasts milky white in contrast to the obsidian
silk fabric which shaped itself tightly around her derriere and continued to a
tight hobble just below her knees with a flared ruffle, showing patterned sheer
black hosiery to her sling backed high heels, she felt the power of looking
beautiful.
Funny, Bobbie had his ass plumped in the reality, and
it’s common for women to enhance their boobs. I guess breasts are the last
visible differentiator here, and boy do we women show em off…. Even our
driver’s uniform shows off her rack…Glad I didn’t have to go into combat with
these cow catchers…
“Okay, okay, I’m here, stop nagging.” Robert said as he
descended the wide grand staircase with small careful steps, clutching a shiny
red patent leather briefcase-purse combination which matched his shoes, a pair
of four inch heels. Jenny and the driver’s eyes went wide at the image. His
black hair shone with a stunning intensity from the sunlight coming through the
bay windows. Full and long, it cascaded in a flow of waves past his bare
shoulders , past his flat bodice with sequined trim to settle about his
midriff. Part had been teased up, with barrel curls similar to Jenny’s adorning
his crown, allowing his earlobes to sparkle with dangling crystal earrings. His
dress was an eye grabbing red, just a shade above dark, which fit snugly around
his slim male waist, exposing half his back, and embraced his hips and plump
rear like a second skin. The hem began an aggressive slant just below the knee,
asymmetrically dropping on the right side to a few inches above his ankle, with
a symmetrical fringe matching it on the left side. He wore a fur stole and a
series of gold bracelets adorned both arms.
OMG he’s making me wet…he’s gorgeous…get yourself under
control, girl! Jenny whistled and let out a barking noise which made Robert
giggle and almost miss a step.
“May I say you two look lovely for a day of business? Your
carriage awaits!” The driver curtseyed, gathering her wide skirt and nodding
her head. She then opened the doors as Jenny let Robert through and did her quick
check, making sure she had her ‘essentials’ bag as well as her purse. The last
few years had taught them to assume whenever they left a place, they might
never see it again.
Personal motor vehicles were still a rarity in this reality,
except for those who lived in the outback. The taxi allowed for the general
height and attire of the population, including tall hair and tight skirts. It
reminded Robert of an old Rolls Royce, with a huge rear carriage and separate
driver compartment. The steam engine hissed as it continued to cycle.
“Well, Bobbie, you look incredible. You make me feel
positively drab.” Jenny giggled as she closed the door and the ventilation took
over, maintaining cabin temperature at a cool 68 degrees Fahrenheit.
“Sheesh, Jen, you’re a knockout in that dress. Cut it out.”
“I think I like you better this way…this persona fits you so
well…”
“That’s a scary concept, but you’re right. Beats me as to
why, but this feels so…so…comfortable…”
“I was remembering how this all began….” Jenny sighed as the
scenic streets passed by outside, children playing in a schoolyard, people
riding bicycles, their skirts billowing in the breeze, scarves holding
sunbonnets in place to protect their complexions and hair.
2003, Iraq, On the
Outskirts of ancient Babylon, Reality Plus Zero
KAWWWUMMMPHHHH!
The overpressure from the mortar rounds assaulted Lieutenant
Robert Morgan’s ears as Sergeant Jennifer Kowalski steered the humvee off the
so-called road to avoid the intense crossfire coming from the buildings on
either side of the crossroads.
“Dammit where’s the column? We were the only ones to make it
across that bridge?” Robert yelled, mostly to clear the ringing in his head. It
had all happened in a second, driving up to the seemingly empty village,
leading the three M35 two and a half ton trucks and the other humvee with the
civilians, cautiously, following the lightning quick advance of the 3rd
Infantry Division. The lead humvee was in flames, Carter, Wiggins and Gludner
were scattered in pieces from the buried bomb.
“Gomez bought it, can’t tell about the radio, LT” Jenny
yelled as she began circling back, away from the murderous ambush fire. Robert
spun and verified her report. Gomez had caught a headshot, right in the face
where no armor covered. He hung limp in the back cockpit.
“Goddammit, I told that West Point asshole Captain that this
area was not ready for civilian look-see shit! Fuck him and his fucking class
ring! Okay, Sergeant, pull us into that cratered out area near the bridge,
hopefully they don’t have it zeroed for those mortars.”
An hour later, the sun setting, the buildings generating the
ambush flattened by F-16s, Robert sat back in the crater rim and drank some
much needed water. He was waiting for the convoy to finish checking the bridge
for planted bombs and his squad to check for any more of the Fedayeen Saddam
guerillas in the area before he could let the two civilians across the river.
“LT, I know you can’t tell me, but what the hell is a civil
affairs National Guard unit doing playing infantry while babysitting two very
weird civilians in a war zone?” Jennifer asked, scanning to the left while
keeping her M-16 at the ready. She moved and felt her knee hit a sharp edge
just under the sand.
“Shit, Jen, all I know is I was told the area was clear, and
these two had some kind of high priority clearance to inspect the area. For
what was left classified. I assumed they are looking for nukes, or bio weapons
or chemicals, but they aren’t wearing any protective gear and sure don’t look
like the types.”
“Yeah, the Professor, what’s his name? Worfen? John Worfen,
he looks like a stamp collector, seems scared of his own shadow. I think he
almost had a seizure when the boom boom started. The woman, she’s a piece of
work. You almost can’t look into her eyes, and that shiny gray hair ain’t
natural. What’s her name again?”
“Ms Brunner. Yeah, she’s definitely weird, and she’s got ice
water for blood. Like she’s bulletproof or something. What’s that you got in
your hand?”
Jennifer was holding a small, black box, about one by four
by nine inches, almost like a jewelry case.
“I don’t know, some kind of box, has no markings. My knee
found it the hard way, just under the sand…..” Jennifer said, looking at it
closely.
“Be careful, Jen. Could be a detonator or something…”
Jennifer was about to toss it away when it opened on its own
accord. She looked inside at what appeared to be two necklaces, one with a tiny
rectangular gold charm with four jewels, the other with a smaller one with just
one jewel.
“It’s just some necklaces, Rob, I mean Lieutenant Robert,
Sir.” Jennifer suddenly touched the charm with four jewels and without a
conscious thought fastened it around her neck.
“Hey, Jen! That’s looting!” Robert joked.
Jennifer looked up and tossed the box with the remaining
necklace to him, her eyes glassy and her face rigid.
Robert caught it, his thumb touching the necklace chain. He
immediately dropped the box and attached it around his neck before his mind
could react. Their eyes met, almost glowing. They sat, transfixed, lying in a
sand crater, looking into each other’s eyes for over a minute across a ten foot
distance. Suddenly they both blinked, and a faint “POP” was heard between them.
“What the ….” Robert muttered.
Jennifer touched her neck and the necklace was gone. Robert
did the same.
“Where’s the box?” They both whispered, scanning about the
sand.
Ten minutes later the roar of humvee engines broke their
mood.
“Not a word, Sergeant…” Robert said quietly as they stood
up.
“No shit, LT. Not a word about what?” Jennifer agreed in a
whisper.
Ms Brunner was practically dragging Professor Worfen out of
the vehicle, holding a stainless steel briefcase labeled “Banker & Multi
Laboratories”. She stood an impressive six foot four with wide shoulders and
large hands, her khaki vest covering a t-shirt which seemed to strain to
contain her breasts, a line of sweat running straight down from her cleavage.
Worfen visibly shook as he opened the case, his thin arms
and gangly neck looking like drinking straws next to the soldiers walking by
him, who were focused on the horizon and Ms. Brunner’s chest simultaneously.
“It’s g.g.g.gone…there’s only an after trace…could be
another false p.p.p.positive…” he stammered,
Ms. Brunner eyed Robert and Jennifer. She waved for them to
come over.
“Did either of you two find anything unusual? Any kind of
artifact?” She asked, her eyes penetrating like scalpels.
Robert stared back, the anger at losing men for some
treasure hunt overcoming her forceful presence. It was almost like physically
pushing her back through a sea of jello.
“Sorry, but we took casualties trying to get you here, and
have been a little busy to play in the sand. Now, finish up, because we are
hauling ass out of here right now and returning you to the command post.
Understood?”
Ms Brunner smiled and decided to nod. “Of course,
Lieutenant. Professor Worfen just needs to take a few minutes worth of
readings, and then we are quite done. I’m sorry for your losses. We will be
ready when you are. I don’t need to remind you that this mission never happened
and you never saw us, correct?”
“Such was my understanding, Ma’am. And I apologize for the
outburst….” Robert said, feeling an involuntary calm descend over him.
“No need, losing good people is always hard. I have some
experience with that…” She said as she turned and dragged the frightened Worfen
back into the humvee.
2006
Suburban Portland, Oregon , Reality Plus Zero
The early morning early summer sun made Robert wish he had
grabbed his Wiley sunglasses before his morning run. Jenny was ahead, her
longer legs aiding her sprint. She had always beaten him in the sprint, he
always won on distance, a tradition going back twenty some years, since
childhood.
“Gotcha again, Bobby. You have to make breakfast now!” Jenny
was panting, hands on her knees on the old fashioned porch of her house.
“Wrong, Jen, this was only the first lap, right?” Robert
grinned as he fell down on the cool grass, his tee shirt and shorts soaked in
sweat despite the coolness of the air.
“You wish you damn sadist. I’m done. And I want pancakes.
Big , heaping stacks oozing with butter, with those fresh blueberries. And
bacon. I want bacon! Bacon NOW!”
“How do you eat and never show it, girl? Sheesh, your
metabolism is like a damn furnace….”
“Just my natural girlish beauty, not unlike that cute little
pot belly you’ve grown since we got back…”
“Hey, flab is a longstanding tradition in my family. Plus it
keeps me warm.” Robert blushed. Returning from the war and re-entering civilian
life plus starting his own investment fund with Jenny as a junior partner had
played hell with his exercise regimen, and his middle had begun to spread
accordingly. Jenny had been nagging him for a month to start running, and it
finally paid off. Robert could feel his waist returning to normal with each
mile.
“And don’t forget the blueberries! I’ll be down after my
shower in a half an hour!” Jenny laughed as she bounded up the wide staircase
to her room, her golden blonde pony tail bouncing against the back of her pink
sports bra.
Robert shed his tee shirt and ambled upstairs to his own
place for a quick shower, reading the latest Wall Street Journal while drinking
some water from his bottle.
Turning on his shower, he removed his shorts and examined
himself while he waited for the water to heat. Six foot two, ever so slightly
flabby gut and love handles aside, he was strikingly handsome. His face was
youthful and smooth, and his eyes were a penetrating blue with long lashes. His
brown hair was longer than the current buzzed off fashion, but still a
conservative cut when neatly combed, an admitted mini rebellion against a year
of a shaved head due to the necessity of the desert. Wide shoulders and a long
lean torso, muscled but not overmuscled, women and not a few men had always
found him attractive. He had never worried obsessively with his looks, and that
lack of anxiety had added to his allure, projecting self confidence whenever he
walked into a room.
Shower done, he combed his hair, splashed his cheeks with
after shave and threw on a purple dress shirt with his charcoal gray suit
pants, the braces a contrasting shade of gray. He grabbed the violet patterned
tie and decided to carry it downstairs and don it after he cooked.
A car backfired on the street outside and in the millisecond
before he could cringe and react, he saw a faint glimmer of a gold necklace
about his throat in the stairway mirror, which faded immediately. It wasn’t the
first time it had happened.
Jenny was devouring the last piece of thick cut bacon, her
pony tail now replaced by a bobbing bun containing her voluminous blonde locks.
She had mostly managed to get over the self consciousness that afflicts tall
women, compensating by being contagiously upbeat and extroverted with
strangers. Robert looked at her carefully and felt a familiar stirring. Jenny
was not surface pretty, she required a man to look for more than a glance. Once
captured thus, she entranced. Her blue eyes danced and laughed, her wide smile
embraced you like a long lost lover and her lean long legs were a treasure map
to untold riches.
Today, she wore a navy suit with knee length skirt, and one
of her more delayed reaction perfumes. Dressed to kill, both of them. That
afternoon they were being interviewed by a leading business blogger, and it
could mean a lot to their shareholders.
Robert speared the last loose blueberry on the platter,
watched the reaction and disappointment in Jenny’s eyes as he moved it to his
mouth, and then reversed and fed it to her at the last second.
“Good thing, Bobby, or I’d have to raise your rent again.”
“You always threaten that when confronted with kindness….”
“Well, being a cold hearted Landlady requires constant
practice.”
“Jenny…I saw it again….” Robert said softly, leaving the
thought hanging.
“Again? You sure?”
“Just a glimmer, but yeah…we should tell someone…”
“We’ve been over this, Bobby. Who? Tell them what? That we
have mostly invisible necklaces that we sort of found during a moment of
extreme stress? What color straight jacket do you want? That every once in a
while we see them, but can’t feel them, or anything, that no known sensor we
have tried has detected them? Can’t you just tell yourself that you have delusions
or PTSD or something, like everyone else?”
Robert sighed and started knotting his tie. “I guess you’re
right, Jen. Besides, it’s the first time in months…”
Jenny nodded, not mentioning the fact that she had seen her
own phantom necklace, and for her, the occurrences were almost daily.
“How’s your love life, Bobby? Why aren’t you seeing that
paralegal from the floor below us? I thought she was cute…” Jenny tried to
change the subject.
Normally, Robert never addressed his personal life, even
with ‘the guys’. He found locker room ‘babe rating’ too full of lies to be
entertaining, and took a lot of friendly insults about it. Jenny, however, was
different. With both sets of parents gone, and each being an only child, as
they got older the friendship got deeper. Jenny was ‘family’, in fact, pretty
much the only family he thought about.
“Oh, she wanted me to be some other guy than who I am. And
God she was boring. Her surface shallowness was a thin veneer on more
shallowness…”
Jenny wondered why Robert had changed since they came home
from the war. He used to date more lightheartedly, and now seemed almost ambivalent
towards women. Of course, I haven’t been lighting up the dating scene myself
either….but damn there’s a lot of assholes out there… almost makes me want to
try men again.
“Oh well, put your face on, Jen-Jen, let’s nail this
interview. I’ll pull the truck out. We might take him to lunch and I at least
have a backseat , unlike that rocket sled of yours.”
“Oh, all right, but clean out the damn thing. And I hear
this guy’s more likely to want to play grab ass with you….so I hope you wore
your thong, sweetie.”
Robert giggled and put is hand on his hip in an exaggerated
swish. “Haven’t you heard, honey? Thongs are sooo last month…. “ then,
returning to normal “ Well, let’s dazzle him with content for a change, now get
a move on, we have to be at the office in an hour, and traffic’s a bitch as
usual….”
2006
Downtown, West Side, Portland, Oregon ,Same Day , Reality Plus Zero
The tall woman in the gray pantsuit held the cell phone to
her face and nodded her head every few seconds, a perfect cover for standing
there and watching someone. The two men in gray suits, also tall, wore
sunglasses and sat motionless as they held their lattes in their hands at the
outdoor table of the coffee shop across Sixth Avenue.
It is the Domron, the energy flicker was unmistakable her
thoughts narrowcast at the two across the street. One nodded, spilling his
latte onto his crotch, causing him to fall back, knocking over the large biker
sipping a cappuccino next to him.
The woman shook her head in disbelief and sent a calming
pattern across the street. The biker froze, and then helped the man in the gray
suit get back to his feet.
Idiots she narrowcasted with power, causing both the
men in gray to shudder.
Robert emerged from the parking garage at street level,
striding hard to match Jenny’s pace. They caught a light and walked across the
street easily, entering their building and making a beeline for the little
bakery and coffee shop in the lobby.
Jenny arranged for the delivery of today’s pastries and
coffee with the short, wide Latina who ran the business while Robert poured two
tall coffees for them to take upstairs. He waved at Consuela and she smiled and
nodded, indicating she would put them on their account.
“Jenny, when you get tired of your partner, send him down
here, he’s so pretty to look at…” Consuela laughed as she started packaging
their delivery.
“Hey, if you want, you can have him instead of sending our
bill this month…”
“Hmmm..no deal…I’ll win him over with my charms….”
Robert didn’t know whether to feign being insulted or feign
being really insulted, to be handed off as sexual barter, and then to be not
even worth a monthly coffee bill? He smiled and waved as they headed for the
elevator.
An hour later, Robert poured a tea for Murray Blingberg, the
self anointed “Financial Fakebuster”, whose blog was followed religiously by
investors from small bore day traders to billion dollar fund managers. Murray
was self made rich, obnoxious and more cunning than brilliant. He made a
fortune knowing when other people were smart.
His writing style was cutting, witty and snarky, and
millions found it entertaining. He had become the bitchy gossip columnist for
the money guys. It was disastrous to get on his bad side and rewarding to get a
favorable mention.
Short and soft, his clothing was expensive casual, silk tee
shirts, silk pants, cashmere sweater, shoes that more resembled ballet
slippers, it matched his soft round face, corpulent round belly and bald head.
He talked with a bit of a lisping sing song style, always accentuating a
sentence in the least expected way. It was disarming, and dangerous to be
lulled into the belief that he was harmless.
“So, Mr. Morgan…may I call you Robbie?...so Robbie…you claim
your fund is different in that you select based on an unusual model….can you
tell me more….?” Murray opened, slurping the chamomile tea.
“I prefer Mr. Morgan, Mr. Blingberg.. yes…our model is based
on companies who we believe will change the competitive dynamics in their
markets, and have the management and access to capital to deliver and sustain
it. We look for number three and four players, or even start ups who can
achieve rapid growth by changing the rules.”
“Well…MR MORGAN then…that sounds fairly simplistic…”
“It is. Like all good ideas, it’s easy to understand. The
ability to pick the ones who can actually do it, that’s a bit harder….”
Jenny watched and admired how Robert had pushed back just
enough to keep the interview on a professional plane…he had avoided the trap of
trying to make friends with the snake. The interview went on into the details
of the fund and it’s successes for about twenty minutes. Suddenly, Murray
turned to her.
“Ms. Kowalski, what’s your role in this? Any truth to the
rumors that you are Mr. Morgan’s lover? You both live together…” acid dripped
from Blingberg as he trolled for juicy copy.
Calm yourself Jenny, you knew he’d bait you…. “My
role is junior partner and office operations, Mister Blingberg. I’m learning
from Robert and I try and let him focus on what he does best. As to living
together, I’m his landlady, he rents a room from me. The lover thing? Well, I’m
a lucky girl but not that lucky.”
Murray laughed loudly. “I’m so sorry, Ms Kowalski, that was
priceless! I had to ask, and no, I won’t ‘out’ you as gay either. My apologies
to both of you, please forgive me, but there are some nasty people out there, I
know, I’m one, and that rumor was not helping you. Let me quash it for you,
okay?”
Robert smiled and nodded. “Jenny is a hell of a lot more
than an office manager here. She’s better at getting people to tell the truth
than anyone I know. And her ability to separate nonsense from common sense is
outstanding.”
Murray nodded. “So true….most of this is really sorting out
basic stuff…I know. I’m going to quote that verbatim…”
Jenny swallowed hard. She knew she had been discrete in her
affairs, how did this little bag of blubber know about them?
Murray got up to leave. “Thank you so much…read the blog
this afternoon, I think you’ll like it.”
After he left, Robert turned to Jenny. “Whew! Dodged a
bullet. That little weasel makes you sweat.”
Jenny nodded. “He’s got some sources for dirt too. Let’s
hope he does what he says he’ll do. I don’t want the story to be about us, or
me being a dike.”
“Beyond our control, Sergeant. When in doubt….” Robert
intoned, trying to break Jenny’s mood.
“Yessir, LT. When in doubt, feed your face! Let’s replenish
your cute little belly, which looks quite fine compared to that guy’s. Lunch?”
Waiting for the elevator to get to the twentieth floor,
Robert looked out the windows at the cityscape, the bright sun shining off the
river bridges. They were alone on the floor corridor, it being after the lunch
rush. As he heard the elevator car settling in to stop, four distinct “POPS”
occurred, like exploding balloons.
Down in the lobby, the tall woman in gray felt the
emergence. Someone else is here and they emerged upstairs! Let’s get going!
The two men across the street sprinted through traffic and
into the building lobby as the woman held an open elevator car.
Robert spun and saw two men with gray, scarred faces wearing
black shrouds suddenly behind Jenny. Jenny saw the elevator door open to reveal
two more inside the car. One slapped a small, inch wide black device on
Robert’s neck while the other grabbed his arm. She felt a greenish glow
surround her, like an odd thickening of the air. Movement was difficult.
Do not touch the blasphemer woman! She has the Domron! Jenny
heard inside her head.
Robert spun back at the painful sensation on his neck. It
was like a thousand hot needles were sinking into his brain. He felt the grab
on his arm, and a fury erupted inside. Ignoring the pain, he countered and
snapped the man’s arm like a twig against the doorframe.
Jenny saw the other man in the elevator lift a long blade,
resembling a Ghurka’s khukuri, preparing to sever Robert’s neck. The two behind
her seemed frozen in the green field. Her necklace flared into visibility and
suddenly her anger and fear for Robert’s life seemed to explode like a palpable
wave, flattening the four assailants against the walls, the khukuri clattering
to the elevator floor. She touched Robert and the world went black.
The other elevator arrived and the tall woman and her men
stormed out.
For Multi’s Laughter, look at this… One of the men
flashed, seeing the four dead men in shrouds, their eyeballs exploded from
within, their tongues sticking out grotesquely, the elevator door bouncing open
and closed on one of the bodies, it’s soft dinging making the scene surreal.
Where are the targets? The other one asked.
They have shifted to another reality, probably purely
unconsciously. No doubt now, the Domron has become active. It has chosen them.
We must start over; they can’t have shifted too far. Clean up this mess before
the police arrive. The woman said, fingering a strand of her shining gray
hair.
May you return to this scene someday, Robert and Jenny. Though
if I was a gambler, I wouldn’t bet on it …. Ms. .Brunner smiled inwardly.
Late Fall, North America,
Western Seaboard, Reality Plus One
Jenny woke in her room, feeling amazingly refreshed. A
strand of raven black hair crossed her eyes, which she brushed back
unconsciously.
Wait a minute, those men, Robert, the knife…huh? Wait,
that’s not my hair!
She jumped from the bed and began to see many small details
in the room had changed. Standing in her full length floor mirror was a woman
with long straight black hair and coffee colored skin, black eyes wearing a
frilly sleep bra and panties, containing huge jiggling breasts, DD cups instead
of her Cs. It was her face, though, and her body, the birthmark on her thigh
was still there.
I’m in someone else body, some bimbo Latina….last I
remember Bobby was being hurt and then I…I…I… killed those gray men….how? This
looks like my room, but it’s different…
Jenny found an ornate silver frame with a photo on her
dresser. It showed her new self in a coral colored gown with Bobby, except it
was not Bobby. He was there, but was short, much shorter than she was, maybe
five six even in heels, wearing a short black dress with a lace apron. His skin
was pale white and freckled, and his red hair was up in an elaborate upsweep.
They both wore heavy makeup, and Bobby looked gorgeous to her.
Bobby too…but wait, he’s not a girl…no boobs…what?
Jenny ran across the hall and opened the door to what used
to be Robert’s room. It seemed smaller, more austere, and she saw the short
freckled Bobby sleeping soundly on a small four poster bed, long dark red hair
flowing about his pillow. Jenny tiptoed to his closet and saw a series of maid’s
dresses, along with casual dresses and skirts, with a few coverall garments in
the back. A collection of black pumps with a modest heel, along with a couple
of dressy stilettos was neatly arranged on the floor.
Jenny crept back to her room, offered a prayer of thanks
that the bathroom still worked in a familiar manner and began looking for
something to wear. She was determined to find out what was going on.
Finding a seriously heavy bra with blessedly wide shoulder
straps, she felt relief as it supported her unfamiliar endowments. She had to
settle for a comfortable skirt, as it appeared her new self didn’t believe in
jeans. A pair of sandals and an oxford blouse completed her outfit. She made a
pony tail with a sequined scrunchie and headed downstairs. Her eye caught a
home office with a computer and she headed right for it.
Amazing, didn’t know there was a Windows 99. Double
amazing, “Jennifer’s” password is the same …Bill Gates may wear a skirt here
,but his software is still sloooooow.
Several hours later, Robert began the climb back to
consciousness. He opened his eyes and saw a dark haired woman sitting over him.
“It’s Jenny, Bobby. Relax….don’t freak out at the
changes….we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto….”
Jenny’s voice was a familiar anchor and he grabbed it. His
head still was in pain, the hot needles pulsing from his neck were fading, but
still real. Robert reached up and saw his hand, or rather the small, delicate
hand with exquisitely applied azure nail polish and long, tapered nails with
intricate inlaid flower designs.
Ooookay, things are weird…Jenny cued me into that.
Breathe…calm. Last thing those gray guys were attacking us, and they applied
that thing to my neck….ouch that hurt…still does…okay, Jenny’s changed, she’s a
Latina now with huge tits….wow…ooooh momma!…Robert, now is a bad time to get a
hard on for your best friend….Down boy…Looks like I’m not quite me either…okay,
let’s remain calm despite the implications of what I am seeing….it’s either real
and I need to listen and observe, or I’m fucking crazy and it will go away when
the nice men bring my medication…..either way, nothing to get excited about….
“Okay, Jen…talk to me.” Robert sat up, feeling his
voluminous hair flow forward, his diminutive frame awkward at first to move.
The movement indicated he was still male under the satin sheet. “What am I?
Where are we? What happened to those guys..”
Jennifer examined her friend and felt arousal between her
legs. He’s precious! Like a china doll…why does that get to me…calm down
girl…. Now’s not the time to grab him by the hair and drag him off to ravage
him….maybe later….
“Well, Bobby, I’ve had a few hours to recon the situation
and we are definitely not on Earth, at least not the one we know. This is
either the most elaborate ruse every invented, right down to body manipulation,
or we have ‘gone through a portal’ or dimensional rift or wormhole or timewarp
or whatever sci fi contrivance you care to name. This is still the USA, but
things are a bit different. I can let you study the history, but the short form
is, the genders are a tad different here. Women are taller and seem to be a bit
more than co-equal to men in every way. Apparently the second world war never
happened, and the first one fizzled out, so the monarchies and colonial system
creaks along, despite modern technology. Maybe people are a bit less
aggressive, I don’t know. Oh, and by the way, men and women dress a bit alike,
and it looks like my side won the fashion argument…
“Whoa, slow down…wait a minute…okay… too macro…closer to
home, who are we..”
“Ah, thank God I keep extensive records, or maybe you do, I
don’t know, but I run a foundation to help the poor, especially the illegal anglos
who are homeless, good work passed on from dear old Mama Rodriguez. You are my
childhood friend and confidant, Bobbie O’Malley, adopted by my family as an
orphan when your Irish parents died in the last great earthquake. You
apparently serve as my ladies maidservant, a quite respected position for a
delicate red haired laddie. Apparently you are quite the little hairdresser and
cosmetics expert, as well as my administrator and general right hand guy. Oh
yes, you can cook too.
“So I’m your slave-maid?...okay, now I know you’re pulling
my leg…”
“Sorry, Bobbie, but the truth was better than any gag I
could dream up. Don’t worry, I won’t even charge you rent if you do good
work.”
“All right, we can sort out the mistress- maid thing
later….how did we get here? Who were those guys?”
“No idea, Bobby. All I know is I was surrounded by some
green field or something, and then I saw them about to slice your head off
after you broke that guy’s arm like a twig, and I wanted to pull you to me and
make you safe, protect you. I ….I….damn…I think I killed those guys with just
thinking about it….it was like I willed them to die…then I woke up across the
hall, in my much nicer bed, mind you, which needs to be made up…and you were
here. By the way, you hair is lovely, red and freckles look cute on you…”
“Shit, we really fell into it this time, Jen Jen.”
“No argument, Bobby. Let me help you up, you look like your
head hurts bad…..”
Jenny easily lifted the diminutive Robert upright, his
pastel blue nightgown fluttering about his azure panties. Robert winced as the
unfamiliar sensation of being totally powerless in her grasp conflicted with
the equally unfamiliar feelings of submission and comfort. Jenny was unable to
read his reaction, assuming the pain from the strange device during the attack
was the reason for his hesitancy.
“There, can’t have my precious little doll fall down, can
we? You all right, Bobbie?”
Robert forced a smile and unconsciously put a hand up to
push his hair back from his eyes. Well, this will take some getting used
to…gad, I’m tiny…and my arms are like twigs…calm down Robert, calm down,
Jenny’s your friend…figure this out…damn but she makes me feel weak, needy and
incredibly aroused…
Christmas Eve, North
America, Western Seaboard, Reality Plus One
Robert sat at the vanity table, having sectioned his hair
into three pony tails, and began creating his signature updo with curls for the
festivities. The room was full of the other senior servants, all watching and
emulating his movements with their own locks.
“Bobbie, laddie, it’s so good to see ye recover yer natural
gifts after those painful headaches ye had. The prettiest Irish laddie in the
whole state and ye lost yer skills. A tragedy!” Shamus Reilly, the head of the
cleaning staff worked his silver tresses up, his gnarled hands still moving
with agility, his immense belly jiggling in his black dress.
“Aye, Bobbie, we were so worried about ya, tis a Merry
Christmas that you seem yerself these days.” Maggie Mulligan giggled, her white
chef’s uniform spotless, a hint of her long legs visible through the slit in
her black velvet skirt.
Francine Dominguez and Manuela Ricardo, the tall Amazonian
security chiefs were silent as they struggled to replicate the lightning fast
moves that Robert’s fingers made.
“Oh, you two are hopeless when it comes to this…just wait
‘till I finish then I’ll do both of you. Good thing I already finished Dona
Jennifer first. Just work on your makeup for now.” Robert smiled. The two six
foot six guards grinned widely and giggled, their sequined gowns somehow
concealing several arsenals of firepower. Standing at five foot two in his
stocking feet, Robert felt they were still imposing even sitting down.
Finishing up his own hair, stepping into his four inch
heels, his best silk black maidservant dress hovering over his starched
petticoats at knee level, the lace apron purely decorative, Robert went to work
and quickly handled Francine and Manuela adding even more height to them with a
pile of black curls atop their heads, creatively disguising their earplugs and
the cords down their necks with spiral tendrils. He then inspected and fussed
over everyone’s makeup, hair and other little details.
“All right, I think we’re ready to do our Dona proud! The
guests should be arriving for the party within an hour, and you all look
beautiful.” Robert said, addressing his troops before the big engagement.
“Ahhh, presentable, maybe, but to call a fat oldster like me
beautiful, that’s more blarney than necessary, Bobbie!” Shamus laughed a deep
and musical laugh, his ample girth acting as an amplifier.
“Shamus, Maggie, Francine, Manuela, I want to thank you all
for your patience with me, I know it was difficult, especially covering up my
‘confusion’ with the junior staff, but I couldn’t have recovered without you
all. Shamus, you spent hours helping me relearn hair and makeup, and Maggie,
you were tolerant of me mucking about in your kitchen.”
“Go on wit ya…. Yer biggest problem was I could see yer
hands were trying to do it right, and yer thinkin’ mind was trying to order ‘em
around. When you just let go, it all came back to ye!” Shamus chided Robert,
waggling a finger while Maggie nodded in agreement.
“And you two! Francine and Manuela! Always there to keep me
from getting lost when we went shopping or somewhere with the Dona., pretending
that I knew all along where we were going! Thank you all and let’s have a Merry
Christmas!” Robert felt himself tear up, and let them just run down his perfect
white cheeks.
The group toasted, Robert having secured the good brandy
from Jenny’s private stock, and mused while the group took a moment to relax
before assuming their hectic duties running a dinner party for 200 prominent,
wealthy socialites and social climbers in Dona Rodriguez lavish city townhouse,
right on Nob Hill.
Thank God for these people or I would have been a total
disaster. Jenny’s idea of me having a ‘head injury with memory loss” was
brilliant, and this group just pitched in to help. I guess they liked Bobbie
O’Malley a lot before I showed up and took over his body…Damn, I never knew
hair and makeup was that damn complicated…it was much easier picking up the
financial management of Jenny’s foundation. Jenny has been great, coaching me
into this feminine world, funny, she was never this girly before…but here she’s
a clotheshorse, changing outfits four or five times a day, well, I guess she’s
playing the role, all her useless hanger on girlfriends do the same. And
despite her keeping me running with her clothes, hair, and her social calendar,
I admit, being her maid allows us a lot of private time without anyone raising
an eyebrow.
We’ve been here for almost three months now. We’ve think
we have a lead to check out, that “Banker-Multi Laboratories” we saw on the
Professor’s case in Iraq…our Earth Iraq, not the Persian Collective here.
Maybe Jenny’s right, I need to accept being here, try and enjoy being a weak,
100 pound pretty boy. Maybe I should take those pills for depression the Doctor
recommended….
The scene was festive, with colored lights and a string
quartet playing carols, wealthy tall women with glittering jewelry and pretty
boy brides on their arm, fewer wealthy men in gowns with serious , tall wives,
usually professionals in their own right, often in matching attire, and an
assortment of young teenaged boys and girls, all expensively begowned,
bejewleled , sporting the latest hair and makeup fashions.
Robert greeted them all as their limos dropped them off,
taking their wraps and showing them into the party. His bottom was getting
quite sore at the number of pinches he received from both genders, despite the
early warning his voluminous petticoats gave him as their upper class hands
snaked through the starched ruffles. He smiled and continued to curtsey as each
guest arrived.
The last guest obsequiously escorted inside, he turned to
observe the gathering. Small groups clustered about various sources of food and
drink, with a large knot around Jenny in the center. He smiled and admired his
handiwork. Wow, you did good, Robbie, she’s gorgeous. She looks good with
those big hooters, and the dark skin and black hair is very sexy. Her hair came
out great…that ‘fountain of curls’ effect I wanted really came off, and that
red gown really shows off her body…and hides the extra pounds she’s put on
being ‘The Dona”….seems to all have hit her ass, which is not a bad thing at
all…..And the purple eye shadow does work, glad I took a picture to document
it….
Jenny amused herself with estimating just what each person
gathering around her so friendly and festively really wanted from her. Ah,
the Morgenthaus, old money, most of it gone, she needs a cash infusion for her
bank, and probably wants me to marry her plump little son, the one wearing the
obvious corset under that gown…damn it makes him look like he’s got little
titties! He’s cute, in a rotund sort of way, but stupid… Ah, Dona Gomez! She
needs to buy my property in Marin, to expand her estate, and she also wants me
to consider little Jamie, that sexy son of hers with the really hot eyes and
really really nice ass…he would be good, but he’s still not quite a girl…now
Bobbie, he gets my nipples hard just walking by, and he’s not a girl either,
but hmmm, he is so nice despite that…Focus, Jenny…ah, John Draco, the media
man…what could he want? Hmmm, other than longer legs, more collagen in his
lips and a better hair stylist, probably my support for his new radio station…
“Would Dona Rodriguez care for anything before I attend to
the staff?” Robert stood beside her, dwarfed by her height, his head bowed.
“Bobbie! This party is fabulous! I don’t know how I’d get by
without you!....No, I’m quite fine, I’ll see you later when we serve the
desserts.” Jenny turned on her gushing, effusive voice for the crowd, an elite
deigning to praise one of the lower classes, such a gesture of noblesse
oblige during the Christmas season. How does Bobbie stand it? I’d kick
myself hard if I treated myself that way…this mistress servant thing is
disgusting…I feel awful about it…I know Bobbie’s not happy, but he’s done so
well to fit in! He does all the scut work and I get to be the rich bitch
gadfly, richest woman in town, the one everyone wants their son to marry, and a
few daughters too…mmmm some of them are scrumptious too, but not here and now,
and definitely not in public…maybe I could sneak that Maria in the black gown
under the mistletoe?.
Jamie Gomez followed Robert out of the ballroom, his heels
clicking away on the marble floor of the hallway.
“Wait up, servant! I would talk to you!” He said, attempting
to make the command sound friendly.
Robert turned, and without a bow or curtsey, gave a slight
nod, drinking in Jamie’s youthful good looks and elegant attire. Expensively
dyed blonde hair cascaded to his waist, almost covering the fact that his gown
exposed his whole back right to the beginning of the crack of his butt cheeks.
Impossible six inch heels made his height almost six feet tall when you added
in the tiara and curls piled high inside it. His makeup was impeccable,
complementing his dark skin. Ah, to be eighteen and rich, with nothing more
expected of you than to marry well…hmm no wonder he’s got a reputation as a
gold plated bitch.
“Master Gomez? How may I assist you?”
Jamie blinked and gave away a startled look, he had been
assuming a much more docile tone from Robert.
“I decided we should get to know each other, Maidservant
….Bobbie is it? Well Bobbie, I would like to think we could be of assistance to
each other…I’m sure you know the future may bring us into closer “familial” contact….”
“I serve at Dona Rodriguez pleasure, she has my fealty and
owns my indenture, Master Gomez. I am unsure of what you mean?”
“You know very well what I mean, you little Irish trash…do
not presume to cross me or my mother…we of class and breeding, including your
Dona, do stick together, unlike you anglo illegals. It amazes me we don’t round
you up and send you home to that armpit of an island…” Jamie lost his temper
easily and tonight was no exception. Bobby knew he needed to be subservient in
manner, but it felt so unnatural for him to take such an insult from this kid.
“As you wish, Master Jamie. I will attend to my duties now…”
Robert spun and his heel and left what he knew to be an enraged teenager angrily
smoldering in the hallway. Well, I’m sure that will have repercussions….
Jenny had cautioned Maria to not ruin her hair or makeup as
they had stolen off to a side room. Maria gigglingly obliged, and was now
buried under the vastness of Jenny’s gown and petticoats as she slowly tongued
her way up Jenny’s soft, nicely plump thighs, her hands cupping Jenny’s
generously round derriere with firm pulsing grips.
Her arms supporting her as she leaned back on the desk,
Jenny felt her urges abate slightly. I never remember ever being so god
awful horny as I have been since we arrived here…Maria’s a cutie, but that
giggle is too much to take except in short doses…Oh Bobbie, I wish it were
you...but that would be a bad idea…but he’s so preciously delicate and sexy
here, I just want to pick him up and squeeze him…ooooh I’ll bet his tongue is
even better…oooh
A few minutes later, Maria was unpinning the mess her
upsweep had become, and brushing it into nice flowing waves over her ample
décolletage.
“Dona Jenny, you are so beautiful…please meet me again,
soon…” Maria pleaded as Jenny reattached her stockings to the garters on the
girdle she had just put back on.
“Yes, Maria, soon…next time I require you I will send for
you. Now go scoot and enjoy the party and do not gossip about this or I shall
have to become unpleasant.”
“Never Dona! You know you can trust me…” Maria exited,
giggling.
Trust you, sure, juicy gossip like “I went down on the
Dona”? What girl could hold that in? Oh well, let’s keep the legend alive…as
long as I’m not caught in public, juicy lesbo stories help. I get caught with a
woman and the Church and the Social Register has to take “official notice”. And
buying them off becomes real expensive.
An hour later, after the midnight welcoming in of the
holiday, the guests were all drinking the champagne as the party wound down.
Robert headed outside, shaking off the mild chill to make sure the valets have
the limos ready to flow up the street for the guests departure. Oohh, that’s
a chill…damn short skirts, even with petticoats…
Francine noticed the two women crossing the street, making a
direct path to Robert as he emerged from the side alley, and decided to close
in herself, staying out of sight behind a large Packard Limousine. Let’s
hope these sequins don’t flash off that streetlight…damn I wish I had on my
combat coverall now instead of this gown…
“Manuela, you copy?” Francine whispered into her throat
mike, fingering the transmit button built into her brooch..
“Yeah, Fancy, I got you, what’s hot?”
“Situation out front, two gals looking out of place on the
street and our Bobbie is their possible target…”
“Check, will be there in two…”
Too late…it’s going down now Francine thought as she lifted
a throwing knife from under her skirt.
“Ya, you! Honey you look sweet tonight, gimme my Christmas
present…” One of the women, pretending to be drunk, fake staggered to within a
few feet of Robert, who started backing away, his face calm despite his obvious
diminutive size.
“None of that, sweetcheeks…we just want some fun…you can’t
run, and if you scream we’ll cut you….” The second woman moved like lightning,
blocking Robert’s escape, and was holding a shiny four inch stiletto blade, the
festive colored lights of the street making pretty rainbow reflections off the
steel in the evening mist.
Robert braced himself, hoping his security wasn’t completely
focused on the guests at that moment. Something inside him, some part of his
former self refused to scream.
“Just a little tongue, sweetie, for a vet’ran on the
holiday….I’ll lift my skirt and you go to work, and no one’s the wiser…” The
first woman, no longer faking inebriation, said with menace dripping from her
voice. She was big, six three, strong and from the scars on her face, very
ugly. Her dress was cheap and serviceable, and it matched her accomplices.
A glimmer of steel and a thhipppt sound went past
Robert within a foot of his right earring, causing it to sway in the disturbed
air. The woman behind dropped her knife and fell forward, groaning at her
sudden awareness of a five inch double sided throwing knife somewhere near her
heart. The woman in front barely sputtered a “Wha!!!” when Francine spun her
around and savagely broke her already deformed nose and collapsed her to the
ground with a sharp solar plexus shot with the edge of her hand, careful not to
break one of her dressy nails.
Robert found himself cradled in Francine’s arms, and
suddenly succumbed to the urge to kiss her, deeply and with passion.
After the kiss, Manuela and the rest of the guards rushed
outside to cover the scene. Robert snuggled into Francine’s bosom and closed
his eyes.
“You okay, Bobbie?” Francine asked, quietly, whispering it
in his ear.
“I’m fine, thanks for saving me again, you big lug…”
“I’m going to set you down now, okay, boss?” Francine had a
waver in her voice, indicating she was wildly unsure of what had just happened.
“Okay, Francine. I’m fine now.” Robert said as she set him
upright and helped smooth his dress. Damn, I’ve been so horny since I got
here…and Francine is a nice package…why not, a one time thing, if she’s okay
with that…I’ll meet her later…She’s not Jenny…but I can’t allow myself to go
there, much as I want to…Damn!
“Meet me later…in my room….” Robert whispered, getting rapid
nod from the tall woman.
Manuela came over to the corner. “We’ll have this cleaned up
now, boss….I know this one, she’ll talk. She does nasty stuff for the Gomez
family…looks like you got an enemy, Bobbie.”
“Just have this out of the way before the guests start
leaving. I need to go see the Dona.” Robert nodded and went inside, shivering
for more reasons than the temperature.
New Years Eve, North
America, Western Seaboard, Reality Plus One
Gray mist swirled around the tall woman’s legs, her long
skirted business suit forcing her normal long stride into hip swinging, mincing
steps as she moved across the office building entrance. Keep a watch for
emergences she narrowcast at the two women flanking the building’s doors,
and received the telepathic equivalent of nods from them.
Ms Brunner clutched her purse and glanced in the shiny
elevator doors to check her appearance as she waited for the car to arrive.
Exiting on the thirtieth floor, her normal room commanding poise and self
awareness carried into the lone office on the floor, the glass emblazoned THE
RODRIGUEZ FOUNDATION.
“May I help you?” the pretty receptionist asked, her blonde
hair piled high in a mass of curls, her blouse revealing her significant
breasts almost to her nipples.
“I have an appointment with Mistress Rodriguez, My name is
Banker-Multi.”
“Please have a seat, Mistress; I will inform management of
your presence.” The receptionist managed to stand and tower over several inches
over Ms Brunner, and then swiveled her hips into the back offices.
Ms. Brunner smiled and waved at the security camera, knowing
the name she gave would raise some interest.