This choice: You're still up for doing it • Go Back... It's a tempting idea; very tempting. Being able to actually do something significant with Sydney even if she's under a mask? Well that was one of the things this whole Brotherhood promised wasn't it? And yet...
"It's fine," you say as you look over Bridget. "It'll be an adjustment but this is something I really want to do myself."
"Yeah, but--"
"I appreciate the offer and the, uh, potential but," you turn to look at Sydney, "I don't want you having to feel like you need to fight my battles for me. It's an issue I'm having and the idea was mine so I figure it's only right that I'm the one who has to deal with it all."
"Hmm," is all she says before grabbing you and directing you towards the bathroom that's connected to her own room. "Your doppelganger's going to need clothes so just take them off in here. You can put the mask on in here as well."
"You don't want to see that girl in all her glory?" you wryly joke.
That only earns you a harder shove into the bathroom and the door is shut behind you. You get to stripping down to first your skivvies and then your birthday suit before you hear a knock on the door a few minutes later followed shortly by Sydney asking if you're done as you hear some shuffling outside. You open the door a crack and hand your clothes over. You don't even get the chance to close the door as Sydney does that. Then you hear some chatter, then a frustrated grunt. Then another knock on the door.
"Will, the pedisequos is being a little shit," Sydney's muffled voice complains. "Can you tell him to put some damn pants on?"
You can't help but snicker softly before opening the door and poking your head out (while making sure the rest of you is safely hidden). "Hey dipshit," you say when you lock eyes with your double, "you know who I am right?"
"Um, yeah?" he responds.
"And you know you have to listen to me right?"
"I guess so," he grumbles.
"Good, then get dressed and get the hell out of here."
"And go where?"
Yeah, he definitely is being a shit but you're not going to play any kind of game with him. Not at this moment. "Just go home, sheesh! Do you need me to tell you to wipe your ass when you're done taking a shit too?" you answer.
You watch as he rolls his eyes. "Are you telling me to do that?" he says with as much sass as he can toss at you. But he doesn't argue any further and he starts getting dressed properly by the time you're closing the door.
"I'll seal the mask and then get it to you once he's gone," Sydney says through the door. "I'll be nice when I see him by the way. Your pedisequos I mean. But maybe have a conversation with him to stop acting like such an annoying doof when you get the chance?"
"Am I that bad?" you ask.
But you receive no answer either because you are that bad and she doesn't want to say it or (hopefully) more likely she's moved away from the bathroom door and can no longer hear you properly. It's another couple of minutes before a last knock on the door and this time when you open it your handed a mask and then, before you can close the door, a pile of clothes is shoved through a well. You close the door behind you and take a look at the mask, now labelled as BRIDGET SUSANNA ATWATER, and lay down.
The darkness isn't long in coming.
* * * * *
You awake with a start. The floor is cold and it jolts you up and off of it before you have time to even really be conscious of it. You're unsteady on your feet, both because you're groggy and because your balance is off for a number of reasons. Chief among them is that the bathroom feels larger and it takes you a moment to realize it's because you're smaller. You reach out and steady yourself against the sink and allow yourself a few deep breaths. You can spot a mirror just at the top of your field of vision and slowly you lift your head and stand up straight.
The face that looks back at throws you off at first. It's not an un-attractive face by any means. But the shape of it, the way everything is positioned on it, eyebrows that are a little thicker lack typical shaping. There's a very boyish quality to that face. It lacks the more feminine beauty of Courtney Blessing's or the elfin adorableness of Mona Stiles' -- names and images pulled up from your borrowed mind -- but it's a nice face all the same.
Though maybe there's a bit of compensation going on as you can't help but marvel at the hair. A dark, chocolatey brown it falls and falls and falls some more and you wonder how Bridget actually plays softball with hair like this. Because straight and thick, it stops just below your waist and just above a very well-shaped butt that you can't help but grab and rub.
Your legs are well-shaped and well-muscled too and your -- you gulp -- breasts while not large are a nice handful and they look nice atop the rather compact torso that's sandwiched inbetween the T and the A.
Unfortunately for you you'll have to get better acquainted with this body on your own time. You pick through the clothes and put on the underwear and bra. The rest is simple: jeans, a t-shirt, socks and a pair of white Adidas sneakers. Well you suppose it's appropriate for someone with her face to very much be the classic tomboy and you're grateful that you don't have to fiddle around with fancy skirts and making sure all of your makeup is perfect or any of that.
But you do make sure to give yourself one more appraisal in the mirror and, satisfied, prepare to head back out and talk to Sydney in your new guise.
* * * * *
"Will? That's you isn't it?"
You regard Sydney for a few seconds, trying to think of how to respond. It is you of course but if you're going to be Bridget for a little bit, at least long enough to get around Kelly without arousing suspicion so as to get a mask onto her, then you think that it's better to be Bridget. Or at least to start getting a handle on her and to do that you partially slip into her persona. Not enough to where you're thinking as her but enough to filter your personality through her lens.
"Yeah, dude, it's me," you say in a voice that is a bit deeper, a bit raspier than you'd have thought. "How do I look?"
"Uh, you look fine," Sydney says as she eyes you skeptically. "But, uh, the attitude and the way you're moving and such is off. I thought you said it gave you everything."
"Yeah? There's not a problem is there?"
She continues to look at you intently as she responds. "You're not really coming off as, uh, feminine," she states.
"Oh, that?" you say with a small, throaty laugh. "God, no, everything's good trust me on that. Bridget doesn't really do feminine. How the fuck didn't you notice that? You brought her up here."
"Yeah, well, it's not like we talked or anything," she says. "We just said a few words and then yeah." Sydney's eyes narrow once more. "She, uh, is a she right? Well I mean, I guess if she was she'd still be a she but..."
"You're asking if she's transgender?" you respond but shake your head, the thick dark hair practically enveloping you as you do. "Nah, she's got all the right parts and she doesn't think of herself as, like, a boy trapped in a girl's body or any of that shit. She's just, tomboy."
"A pretty extreme one."
"Yeah, well, when you're raised in a home with a single dad and three brothers it probably has some kind of effect on how you turn out, ya know?" you reply and your tone is very defensive. But it's a spot that, while not sore, does cause her annoyance at having to explain. "People have such a hard fucking time with anything that doesn't fit into whatever bullshit ideas they've got about stuff."
"Look Will, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to say anything bad about it," she says.
"It is it what it is, you pretty much spit at preconceived notions yourself" you shrug. "Anyway, I need to get out of here."
"Huh? But there's something I need to tell you about--"
"Can it wait 'till tomorrow?" you ask. "She's on a pretty tight schedule and I want to keep to it."
"Is she going to see Kelly? We still have a few of the masks you grabbed here--"
"No," you say bluntly as you cut her off. "Other shit she's gotta take care of. Family shit, real important."
Sydney wants to push back but she seems to think better of it and holds back, simply asking you to make sure you came back tomorrow when her mother's out. You give her Bridget's phone number so she can get in touch with you once the coast is clear and then head out. You hop in the old Tacoma, a parting gift from Bridget's oldest brother, and drive off.
You do feel a bit bad as well for having to lie to Sydney because Bridget doesn't have anything to to help out her family with and she is, in fact, going to see Kelly. Because maybe it's Bridget's natural instincts regarding her mixed with your own wanting to not rush things but you want to get a proper feel for the girl first before you throw a mask onto her. Besides, actually getting her to agree to come out to a party is a rare thing indeed and you can very much tell that Bridget doesn't want her to give the opportunity to walk back on it.  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
| Members who added to this interactive
story also contributed to these: |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Get MORE!
Shop Memberships
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
