Lady of the Rings
by Brandy Dewinter and Ellen Hayes
(All rights reserved)
Chapter 14 - I'm A What?
Build 4
I still hadn't really resolved in my own mind how I felt about
Andreas. Every time I looked in a mirror, hell, every time a took a
breath and felt my tits bob up and down, I wanted to kill him. Yet I had
to admit I was learning more on this quest, and was more challenged by
it, than I had ever imagined I could be. It wasn't my sort of challenge.
I liked physical challenges that required agility or body control, like
martial arts, and I ate up mental challenges like sweet candy. But this
was something more than that. This was a challenge to my very sense of
self, to who I considered myself to be.
The good news was that my flute was incredibly satisfying. I found
some quiet spot away from the squealing kids and girly outfits whenever I
could and just played whatever seemed right. Sometimes I tried to match
bird calls, sometimes I just let the sounds flow straight from my heart
to the wind without worrying overmuch about tempo or key. Every now and
then an audience would show up. Sometimes it was carnies, but once a
couple of birds started a duet with my flute. That was a memory that I'd
cherish long after I finished with this quest.
The circus managed to survive Palm City and we moved on to Pensa-
cola. I knew that this was the right direction to get the next ring, but
it wasn't until we got to town and my sense of where the next ring was
located took a hard right turn that I knew it was close, probably in this
town. My goodness, what a coincidence. Hah!
We set up on a Tuesday and worked out the necessary tuning for the
particulars of our new site over the first couple of days. We always did
our best business on the first weekend and the Colonel wanted us to be
crisp and professional for our first real big-city showing. By the time
Friday rolled around things were going pretty well, but we all needed a
break.
"Come on, Bree, let's catch a ride into town," Kimberly urged as
she tugged at my arm.
I looked once again at my flute case. Everyone had the afternoon
off since there wasn't a matinee show today and I had been looking for-
ward to some time to relax. Still I knew the next ring must be in Pensa-
cola and I'd have to go into town sometime. Once upon a time I'd have
been frantic to get on with the quest, but I was finding that I needed
some time alone, away from the constant energy of the circus, almost as
badly.
The Colonel's little habit of requiring us to be in one costume or
another for most of every day had forced me into the habit of "primping"
every morning so I already looked about as good as I got. The less-
dramatic makeup Sarah had showed me for daytime wasn't really that bad.
I knew I didn't look like a cheap hooker or anything and I had quit
trying to deny that I was female about the time I got the first ring.
There's nothing like magically-enhanced perceptions to keep you brutally
honest with yourself.
I still wasn't into wearing "girl clothes" though, except for my
costumes. Kim was wearing a skirt that looked pretty good on her (damn
good, she had great legs, wish I could have done something about it), but
I was in my standard jeans and a knit shirt.
She tugged at my arm once again and this time I let myself be
pulled along toward the fringe of our encampment. Jim Chandler was
there, standing by a pickup truck. I knew he still had a crush on me.
The ring told me more than I wanted about those sorts of desires, but
it didn't tell me how to turn him off without hurting his feelings.
Mostly I was just painfully polite, which didn't seem to faze him in the
least. Him turning up as our driver was entirely too coincidental and
it made me pause.
"Um, why are you going into town?" I asked him. I felt bad about
the lack of trust implied in my hesitation, but my "friends" were en-
tirely too likely to try and fix me up with someone, and Jim would cer-
tainly have volunteered for the job.
"I have to get some paint and things for the 'round," he cheerfully
replied. "And the Colonel asked me to get some odds and ends while I was
in town."
So, okay, maybe I was just entirely too suspicious. By this time
Kim had slid into the car without revealing much more of her legs below
the short skirt. I watched very carefully, with a bit of horror as I
realized part of me was watching for modesty-maintenance technique and
not just for the pretty view.
"Where to, ladies?" Jim offered cheerfully.
Before Kim could answer I decided to take advantage of the oppor-
tunity. "Why don't you just drive into town and we'll sightsee for a
little bit?"
"Why Britt, I don't think I've ever seen you enthusiastic about
getting away from the circus. Given up on hiding from everyone?"
"No, I just wanted to see the town," I denied. But they both looked
at each other with a conspiratorial grin that made it clear they didn't
believe me.
I didn't care, though. As on so many other occasions, the easy
assumption of a cover story kept me from having to really explain what
was going on, as though I could. The trip to town was pretty quick and
I could feel the tingling from the ring like a buzzer every time we were
headed in the right direction to find the second ring. With that to
guide on I was able to suggest things to look at that got us close enough
to make me think it was time to walk.
"Let us out somewhere along here. I want to window shop for a
while," I said, getting another shocked glance from my two friends.
Their grins relit as they thought I was coming out of my shell. Well,
maybe I was, but not for the reasons they thought.
"You two going to be okay alone?" Jim asked.
I was too distracted to answer but Kim's enthusiasm banished any
doubts he might have had.
"Okay, I'll be back right here in about two hours," he promised.
With a nod I agreed, already moving in the direction the ring was
leading me.
"Bree, wait up. Just what are you in such a hurry for?" Kim asked.
"No particular reason. I guess I just always walk a little quickly,"
was my excuse, but the energy from the ring was exciting me now. I was
close!
Suddenly my arm lifted and almost drug me toward a doorway into a
fancy office building. Luckily, it was on the other side from Kim so
she only noticed my graceless jerk.
"What's wrong now?" she asked plaintively.
"I thought I saw someone I knew in here," I claimed, already heading
toward the door.
Inside was a typical modern lobby complete with uniformed guard. I
walked over to the building directory, lifting my left hand to the glass
face as though using it to trace the line of offices. Kim crowded up
next to me to see what I was looking at. This seemed to trigger some-
thing from the guard, for before I had a chance to sense which office the
ring was directing me toward, he was looming over us.
"Can I help you, uh, girls?" he asked with a sneer.
I was too busy to answer. There were a lot of offices in the buil-
ding and I only had a vague impression that the right one was among the
higher floors. Kim just looked at me since she had no idea what had
caused me to come into the building. The guard didn't take too well to
being ignored, so he started to shoulder his way in front of us. His
emotions were getting pretty strident, and distracting.
"What is your business here?" he demanded.
Kim tried to defend us, "We're not bothering anyone."
"You're bothering me," he sneered, again. What was his problem?
I finally worked my way to the top floor and was considering the
last few offices. All of the sudden I got a buzz from the ring so sharp
I gasped. The office of Brant, Wheatley, and Davidson was important. I
wanted to think the next ring must be there but I had learned enough of
Andreas' subtlety to know it might just be a step along the path.
Now that I had a destination, I turned to the guard, "We just need
to visit a friend at one of the offices. Where are the elevators?"
"What's the name of your friend?" he asked. His tone was carefully
formal, but through the ring I knew he intended to deny us access.
"Wheatley," I grasped at one of the names.
"All right, that's enough, you're out of here," he grabbed us both
by an arm and started yanking us toward the exit.
"What's wrong," I asked.
"Mr. Wheatley doesn't see tramps like you," he declared, with an
unspoken image clear behind his words. Tramps like you, lesbo!
He thought I was a lesbian! It was so funny I had to laugh. Tuning
in to his aura I could see he thought that since I was taller, less
shapely, and dressed in unisex clothes, I was a dyke and Kim was my
femme. Little did he know how much I might like that, but not because I
was lesbian.
Or was I? Damn, this was still so confusing to me. Anyway it
didn't matter. He thought my laughter was at him. Well, I guess it
was, but not for the reason he thought. Still he got even rougher with
us, almost lifting Kim from her feet.
"All right, that's enough," I said as I reached for his arm with my
free hand. "Let us go, we'll leave."
His only response was to grip even tighter, to the point that I knew
bruises would form on my distressingly-soft female arm.
"I said 'that's enough'!" I growled, and delivered a nice little jab
to a nerve plexus. His arm dropped like it had been paralyzed, which was
exactly the point, and in another second Kim was free as well.
"Get out of here, dyke!" he snarled, now out in the open with his
prejudice.
"I said we were leaving," I agreed with cheerful melody in my voice.
Just before we left I put my arm around Kim and we left as though we were
as close as he believed.
One we were outside I let go of Kim, whose face was as confused as I
usually felt.
"What did you do that for?" she asked.
"He just pissed me off," I explained. "I decided if that's what he
thought of us, I'd just show him I didn't care what he thought. I'm
sorry, thought, I shouldn't have just grabbed you."
"No, that's okay," she said quietly. Very quietly, with eyes that
looked at me in a new way.
The perception ring proved that it was as much of a curse as a bles-
sing. Again. For about the nine-zillionth time. While I wore it I
could never have a truly honest relationship with anyone since I had a
thoroughly unfair advantage over anyone else. Kim's confusion sorted out
into a bit of horror at the thought of forbidden desires, spiced with a
very real dose of those same desires. I knew she was mine for the
asking, and I knew I'd be able to tell exactly how to ask her.
And I knew I couldn't do it. Anyone to whom I felt close enough
that I'd want to get intimate, would be someone I wouldn't take advantage
of that way. Damn that wizard! I thought about taking the ring off but
I already had my unfair advantage. Besides, the ring seemed to have
shrunk. It wouldn't budge on my finger anymore since I went through that
mind-rebuilding transition on the first day I wore it.
Instead, I led us over to a bit of low wall near the entrance to the
building. We sat down where I could see through the glass doors into the
lobby, including the elevators.
"Just what is going on?" Kim demanded. She had recovered her compo-
sure when there was no further encouragement within my distracted
attitude.
What to tell her? She was a nice girl and truly trying to be my
friend. It wouldn't be fair to lie to her. It felt bad enough to, well,
almost lie by letting her believe all the ready-made cover stories like
on the ride into town. If that makes any sense. Anyway, I wouldn't tell
her a deliberate lie. But she for sure wouldn't believe the whopper I'd
have to tell her that was the real truth. Wizards and magic. I was
really a man. Get real.
So I decided to almost lie some more, by asking questions that would
imply things that weren't quite true.
"Do you believe in intuition, women's intuition?" I asked.
She nodded and I continued, but in a different sentence, see, not
really related, so it wasn't really a lie. Honest. "Well, something
tells me that I need to get into one of those offices. I've been
wandering for a while, trying to understand myself (no lie there!) and I
just know that there's something important for me in that building.
Her aura showed disbelief, but a willingness to humor this madwoman
and she said, "Like what?"
"I'm not sure exactly (barely true). I won't know until I get
inside. What sort of people get by the guard?" I asked to change the
subject.
We watched together for a while. It was just after lunch time and
there was a fair amount of traffic into the building. The auras of the
women entering were pretty well limited to secretaries. There were a
few, dressed in tighter clothes with higher heels and bigger hair, who
had slightly more complex auras, showing something a little lurid under a
thin veneer of secretary. I wondered just what their office duties
entailed. In any event, theirs was not a role I chose to explore as a
means to gain access to the building.
The secretaries, both varieties, were the only type that went imme-
diately past the guard but he still nodded at them, usually saying hello.
He clearly knew each one personally. Another critical flaw in any sort
of attempt at impersonation.
There were a lot of men entering the building, sometimes in the
company of a woman. I thought longingly of masquerading as a business-
man, but I had learned the hard way that the body I wore didn't move like
a man's body. I could have worn a sack that covered me from head to toe,
and still been obviously female from the way my wide-load hips swayed.
Without the sack, well, like I said, the ring kept me brutally honest
with myself, and I knew I looked far too feminine to disguise as a man.
Every now and then another type of lone woman entered the building.
These always proceeded directly to the guard desk. They would present
some sort of card or something, causing the guard to scan a list. If he
found them satisfactory, he let them pass to the elevators. This didn't
always happen. Some were turned away. It wasn't clear why, though. It
didn't seem connected with appearance. All the women who weren't part of
the permanent office staff wore very similar clothes. The professional
women's business suit differs from the man's only in that there is a
skirt instead of pants (bad news) and usually a soft collar instead of a
tie (good news). Oh, and the women wore a bit of heel, not really high
like the special duty secretaries, but not flats.
After a few minutes I decided to talk to one that was turned away
and intercepted her as she left the building.
"Excuse me," I said as I stood in front of her.
Her emotions were so strong I didn't need the ring to read them,
disappointment, anger, surprisingly little sadness.
"Yes?" she snapped with sharp, bitten tones.
"I noticed you were turned away by that guard. I had a little run
in with him myself and I wondered if you could tell me what his problem
is."
"He's an asshole, and so is the guy he works for," she snapped.
"Yes, of course, but *why* is he an asshole?" I asked as though her
characterization of the guy were completely unremarkable. It surprised
her. I don't know why. After all, the guy *was* an asshole.
She looked at me again, trying to see where I was headed with this,
but after a moment she decided to answer. "He told me that Wheatley
didn't have any need to see a woman."
"Somebody had you come all the way down here just to tell you that?"
I asked, now my turn to be surprised.
"Well, they might not have known. My name is Sam Draper, actually
Samantha. My secretary set up the appointment so they must have thought
I was a man. As though gonads had anything to do with accounting."
Kim snickered, which gave me a time to dredge up a conspiratorial
grin of agreement. She chirped in with much more convincing sympathy
than I could have shown, "Don't you just hate that?"
"Yeah, but I can't prove it, and even if I could there's no way to
force them to use my company. I can't show any objective evidence of
financial harm so even if I sued, they'd just have to start some sort
of bogus program that wouldn't fix anything."
Kim's obvious sympathy, no pity, just understanding, pretty well
defused the woman's anger. She nodded much more politely than her
initial abruptness and moved off.
"Well, that rules out the professional woman route as well," I
sighed.
"So what are you going to do?" Kim asked with a child's bright
enthusiasm. Was I ever that cheerful? I couldn't remember, not at any
time in my life.
I also couldn't tell her. Public building or not, it seemed that
unescorted women were not given permission to access the upper floors
unless they worked there already. So the obvious corollary was that I
would access without permission. Time to see if some of those skills
I learned in preparing for my quest still worked in this body. But I
couldn't involve Kim.
"I'm not sure, exactly," I declared. Another almost lie. Such a
wonderfully covering word, exactly. I had a pretty good idea, certainly
good enough to know it involved breaking and entering, but I didn't
know "exactly" what would happen.
I tried to distract her by suggesting we do a little of the window
shopping we had claimed was our interest. A whiff of suspicion colored
her aura, but she agreed and we started wandering among the shops. I
couldn't tell if we were officially "downtown" in Pensacola, since I
didn't know where that was. This seemed to be a fairly upscale neigh-
borhood, mostly modern buildings with ever-so-chic boutiques in the
ground floors.
I should have paid better attention to Kim's aura. A bit of gleeful
plotting would surely have shown because we were hardly away from the low
wall and she was pulling me into one of those cutesy shops.
"Oh, Brinny, this would look soo spectacular on you!" she gushed.
"This" was a sleek knit dress that would be almost as revealing as
my show costume. Almost as short, too.
"I'm, um, not dressed for trying on fancy clothes," I tried to
escape.
"I know, that's what makes it so much fun!" she kept on. She was
getting to be as bad as Sarah, so damn cheerful you wanted to wring her
neck, but bouncing so fast you just couldn't seem to get a good hold.
She had a good hold on me, though, and without doing something
fancy I couldn't get away from her. In much too short a time we were
talking to one of the clerks.
"My friend wants to try on that dress in the window," Kim announced.
I tried to let the clerk know I didn't really want to, but she was
already assessing me as a potential customer. It was clear that a part
of her assessment was that I couldn't afford the dress (no joke!). Still,
with a visible look of resolve, she nodded.
"All right. What size are you, miss?"
Again with the size thing. I didn't care, why did everyone else?
"I, um, not sure," back to my mumbling idiot act. I wished it were
an act. I sure felt like an idiot. I knew I was clueless on so many
things girls learn while growing up. It was only a matter of time before
people started asking questions I couldn't answer.
"Very well," was that a sigh of exasperation? Why not? That's
how I felt with Kim right then.
She ushered us to a surprisingly well-appointed dressing room. Not
only was there a low bench, there was a padded chair and a large mirror.
What joy.
The clerk disappeared and Kim sat in the chair so I moved over to
the bench.
"What are you doing?" she asked, freezing me in my tracks.
"I guess I was going to wait for her," I replied.
"Get your jeans and blouse, off. She'll probably bring you a couple
of sizes and you can try them on until you find the one that fits. Gee,
where have you been all your life?"
Not in ladies' dressing rooms, that's for damn sure! I wanted to
snap at her but just then the clerk was back. As predicted, she had two
of the dresses.
"I guessed a size 9," she informed me, "but I got a 7 as well since
you girls like to wear these knit dresses so tight."
The sense of scandal in her voice was a pale shadow to the sense of
horror in my own mind. No way was I wearing a too-small size!
All of the sudden I realized that everyone was staring at me like I
was as idiotic as I felt. It finally percolated through my thick brain
that they were waiting for me to get undressed. And that they didn't
intend to leave while I did. With clumsy fingers I managed to get my
shirt off, but my pants seemed almost too much for me. Only the fact
that my head was down kept them from seeing the flames in my cheeks,
but somehow, after an eternity of fumbling I got them off.
My dark socks looked particularly elegant at the ends of my long,
pale legs. Not! I was fairly tall for a girl and it all seemed to be in
those legs. With perhaps a bit more sense than I had shown so far, I
quickly pulled them off as well. The clerk handed me the dress and I
slipped it on over my head.
She had the zipper up and I was trapped in the thing before I even
got turned around to look at it. Or at me in it. The color was a deep,
dark blue, almost black. It had a sort of high round collar like a
turtleneck, except it wasn't rolled over or anything. There was also a
keyhole opening below the neck that once again displayed the cleavage
I saw when I wore my show costume.
"Quite nice, miss," said the clerk.
"Hmm, try the other one," Kim suggested. Or maybe ordered. If it
were just as suggestion I could have refused, but it seemed that I was
going to be wearing the smaller one whether I wanted to or not. The
clerk already had the zipper down on the one I was wearing and I let it
slip to the floor.
The second dress fit real . . . well. I could tell from the tension
in the fabric that it wasn't in danger of splitting, but it also wasn't
in any danger of slipping off.
"That's the one!" Kim announced.
Well, there wasn't any doubt that the body in that dress belonged
to a woman. Not even a girl, a full-grown woman. Definitely. All I
wanted was out of it, but that had to wait for another of those posing
routines where the clerk or Kim told me to stand this way or that, to
smooth it over my belly or straighten the hem. I tried to analyze what I
would have thought if it had been on anyone but me, but I just couldn't.
I knew I had to learn to deal with this but that was my intellect
speaking, not my gut. I just felt uncomfortable.
From their auras, the clerk and Kim thought I looked good in it
though. I think Kim was being enthusiastic for her friend, but the
clerk was clearly regretting that I didn't look like I had the money for
the dress. In her mind, it was too tight (no kidding!) but it looked
well within the range of current styles for young women. Just not for
me.
After a moment or two when it was clear nothing more was going to
happen, I turned to her and lifted my hair in an invitation to lower the
zipper. It was a lot easier to get my clothes back on than it had been
to strip in front of the two of them.
The clerk smiled politely as we left. She probably went through
that a dozen times a day with others who had as little intention to buy
as we did. It seemed sort of pointless but Kim acted as though it were
only to be expected and we were soon back on the street.
"Let's try this store," she urged, pulling me toward another over-
priced boutique.
"Only if you're the one that provides the fashion show," I counter-
offered. That should stop her.
No such luck. "Great!" she agreed, "except I want to find a pair
of shoes."
I was three or four inches taller than her and sized up in most
other ways as well, but she towed me along like I was an errant child as
she looked for a shoe store. It didn't take long, there were plenty. In
a surprisingly short time she had a clerk and about 20 boxes of shoes
strewn around her seat.
"What do you think of these?" she asked. "Aren't they just too
cool!"
I didn't dare answer. The pair she was wearing had about the
highest heels I had ever seen. They were delicate confections of pink
and gold and white that seemed to be glued to her feet or something,
because there wasn't enough to them to actually stay attached. With her
already gorgeous legs and short skirt, they were, well, like I said. I
didn't dare comment.
It didn't matter much, though. She pirouetted with effortless grace
before the mirror, arching her toes even more than the heels required,
gazing over her shoulder at the tanned, toned pillars that led from her
shoes to her, ahem, well, no comment. Concentrate on not drooling.
After a couple more twirls and a sashay or two, she came back to her
seat and started taking them off.
"Aren't you going to get them?" I asked.
"No, of course not. I don't have anything to wear them with.
They're too elegant for life on the road," she giggled. Another known
waste of time, since it was clear she never intended to get them.
That didn't stop her though. She worked her way through at least a
dozen pairs before she finally called it quits. It seemed there wasn't a
heel too high, or a design to dramatic for her tastes. Or her talent.
If I tried to walk in any of those shoes, I'd have a broken ankle before
I finished standing up.
Which was just fine with me. I didn't want to wear shoes like that
anyway. Though I had to admit, with her legs they did look pretty spec-
tacular.
"It's about time for Jim to get back," I decided, forestalling
further fruitless treasure hunting.
"Oh, all right," her tone showed disappointment as clearly as her
aura.
We walked back to the corner where Jim had dropped us off to find
the truck idling by the curb. The ride back to the circus was filled
with Kim's enthusiasm for "my" dress, and Jim's obvious regret that he
hadn't seen it. Well, dream on. That wasn't going to happen. Thank-
fully the ride was short and I made up an excuse about seeing if Tom
needed me to help with the dogs as a way to get away from my so-enthu-
siastic friends.
(
geocities.com/b_dewinter)