Going for Another Ride?

After the test was over, we went outside, and there were three bikes -- a white one with red and black trim, which I presumed was for Abs; a royal blue bike that I was pretty sure was for me; and a pink bike with black trim that perfectly contrasted the outfit Sheila was using when we entered the facility. But there was an outfit standing stock-still by each bike. Had they been standing there the whole time?

“Are these--” I started, motioning toward the bikes and the three… people? Suits? the who- or what-evers standing with the bikes.

Abs spoke up, finishing my statement. "The suits are all empty. The dark blue one’s for you, the black and pink one’s for your girl, and the all-pink one’s gonna ride with you.”

“The pink one’s riding with me?” I repeated, doubt in my voice as I looked at the pink suit, then over at Sheila.

“Relax,” Sheila said. “Like I keep telling you, it’s all good. Matter of fact, it’s better than all good. I’ll explain everything to you later.”

“OK,” I said, resigned to my fate. I didn’t know where I was, so there was no way I could see to get back to familiar surroundings except by going along with their plan. “Where do I change?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Abs replied. “There’s no one here but you and us.”

The blue suit walked over to where I stood, and the pants stepped away from the suit, unzipping and lowering themselves so I could step into them.

I pulled down my pants and stepped out of them, but they never hit the ground. They pulled themselves up over invisible legs, walked over to the limo, and got in. I can only guess that Abs or Sheila must set that up so I wouldn’t have to carry my pants around with me, or something. But whatever they had planned for me, I was walking deeper into it...


"Do you hear me OK?" said Abs' voice through the helmet's built-in earpieces.

"I hear you just fine," I said. "Do you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," Abs said. "OK, the radio on your helmet is hybrid Bluetooth. I had them customized for sharing bikes. It's two-channel. One is Bluetooth for communicating with your passenger, and one is a regular walkie-talkie for talking to other bikers. You with me so far?"

"I'm with you," I said.

"The radio is voice controlled," she said. "Your link with your passenger is always on, so when you talk to me or Sheila your passenger will hear. Anytime you want to speak privately, just say, 'mike 2 off,' and we won't hear until you turn it back on." Or so she said…

As for the riding lesson, well, though Abs had insisted the lesson was necessary, it turned out to be quite basic -- it could have been summed up as "follow my lead, and follow my instructions." Since she would be controlling the bike, my main job would be to make sure to lean into turns, and to listen carefully to whatever she tells me through the radio.

"Let me show you why you need to lean into turns," she said. The bike rolled forward by itself, as the pink suit that would be riding with me "sat" on a cushion of air beside the other two bikes.

"Get on,” Abs said. “I'm gonna take the bike up to that next intersection and hang a right. Instead of leaning, I want you to stay upright, just to see how it feels."

As soon as the bike started to lean to the right, I did actually panic a little, for like half a second. I actually tried to lean into the turn, only to feel some resistance. 

“Did you feel the difference?” Abs asked over the radio. I did. The bike did a U-turn in the road and headed back toward the suits and other bikes. “Now when I take off, I want you to try to throw yourself off the bike.”

What?! “You’re kidding, right?” 

“No, I’m serious,” she said. “I want you to see that I will have everything under control. Did you even notice that the bike is perfectly balanced while you’re sitting still with your feet on the pegs?” RIght that moment, my feet were on the ground, but when I raised them and put them on the pegs, the bike stayed balanced. 

“Huh, how about that?” I said. “OK, I believe you, and I trust you. We don’t have to do that last part.”

“Yes you do,” she said. “That’s how I know you really trust me.”

“I’m sitting here with my feet on the pegs while you’re holding the bike up. That proves you have it under control,” I said. “That’s not enough?”

“I’m gonna make this left turn, and then count to three,” she said. “If you don’t try to throw yourself off then, I’m gonna lean you all the way over with no notice.”

As the bike turned, I psyched myself up to do this. I didn’t want to be brushing the ground with my arm hairs from being hard-headed. “One!” The engine revved, as the bike gained speed. “Two!” It sped up more, and the office complex was coming up fast on my left. “THREE!!” I pushed myself off to the right as hard as I could, but I barely got my butt off the seat before I hit some kind of soft but solid restraint, like invisible pillows just above me and to my right.

I sat back down and gripped the throttle, but right then the bike did a wheelie.

“Congrats, you’re ready for the ride,” Abs said over the radio, as the front wheel dropped back to the road. “By the way, if you hadn’t done that I really would have leaned you over, but the speeding up, the pillows, and the wheelie? That was all Sheila’s doing.”

“Sheila? But… but how?!” I hear her voice laughing through the radio as the bike pulled to a stop. 

“Yes, that was me! Isn’t it great?!” she said, and I could practically see her glee. I could feel it, too; unseen lips pecked me on the cheek, and I felt an invisible hand brush each forearm lightly. If I’d been riding and controlling the  bike myself, I’d have been too unnerved by that sudden and unexpected… input to stay upright. 

“I know it was a surprise,” she said. “It’s new to me too, but we’ll talk about it later. We’ll have a lot to talk about later. But for now I’d better bring you in so we can finish this ride.” The bike turned around again, and coasted to where the others were so smoothly and quietly it was almost like the engine was off. I was still in a bit of shock, not expecting this new development, and wondering just what she meant about having “a lot” to talk about.


“You don’t mind following me?” Sheila said.

“With you or Abs controlling the bike, there’s nothing for me to worry about, right?” I said, still a little nervous but looking forward to the experience. “If I actually had to do this myself, I’d want someone following me but since I’m basically a passenger, it should be OK.”

‘OK, as long as you’re sure,” Sheila says.

“I’m OK, don’t worry,” I said. Sheila took off her helmet, actually leaving it hovering in the air where it came free from her outfit, and hugged me. I felt a warm invisible cheek against mine, with unseen hair moving in the breeze. That was another surprise, though it could easily have been done in the spur of the moment for my benefit. Then after a quick peck on the cheek, she put her helmet back on and got back on her bike.

Meanwhile the BMW rear passenger door opened and Sheila’s black and pink playsuit got out and walked over to me, also for a hug and kiss -- only the outfit’s kiss wasn’t a peck on the cheek. As the outfit made its way back to the limo, the pink riding outfit approached, removing its helmet.

“You wanna kiss me too?” I asked. I got a thumbs-up from the glove not holding the helmet. I didn’t expect anything from this outfit; I wasn’t even sure why Abs had it riding with me. When its unseen lips began kissing, though, it felt really familiar, in much the same ways Sheila’s various outfits acted similarly earlier in my apartment.

When we broke the kiss, I asked, “Is this Sheila?” The helmet shook back and forth. If I hadn’t still been nervous about the ride, I would have pressed on and asked if it was Pinkie, as I had suspected all along, but Abs and Sheila were already revving their engines, as was my bike without me on it. So I finally got on and put on my helmet. Almost immediately I felt the pink suit pressing against me, as it wrapped its sleeves around my midsection. Again I felt a twinge of déjà vu but, again, no time to dwell on it. I signalled Abs that I was ready and with that, we were off!

Abs didn’t totally warn me about how the ride would proceed. She wasn’t only controlling the bike I was on, but also my gloves and even subtle movements of my suit. I mean, she would tell me when we were going to turn, and I’d feel the suit starting to lean just as the bike started to turn. Or maybe it was my pink companion -- maybe she was already clued into the details of the route Abs had chosen. 

An idea was forming in my mind and wasn’t gonna go to the back burner until I at least found out if there was something to it. I mean, it was obvious that, although Abs had brought along both the pink suit and the blue one I was wearing, she wasn’t controlling the pink suit. I was being reminded of the day Sheila revealed herself to me back at my job.

“Mic 2 off,” I said aloud, cutting the link to Abs and Sheila. Mic 1, my link to my “co-rider,” would stay on as long as the helmet was in use, Abs told me. I said aloud, “Are you enjoying the ride?”

The sleeves wrapped around me tightened a little, as the suit seemed to snuggle against me. 

I smiled. Abs and Sheila had set me up, and arranged the bike ride so I’d have no choice but to go along with the plan. At least that’s the way it seemed to me…

I heard Abs’ voice over the radio. “We’re gonna stop up ahead for some ice cream,” she said. “My treat.”

“Mic 2 on,” I said, then “10-4, good buddy,” to Abs. I heard her and Sheila laughing as we drew closer to the ice cream stand.

I expected that the stop for ice cream was mainly for my benefit, so I was surprised at what I saw when we stopped. There were a couple dozen bikes parked throughout the large lot all around the ice cream stand, as well as a smattering of cars. But while some of the patrons of the ice cream stand appeared to be standard humans, there were also quite a few animated outfits. Some were probably invisible people, but some were plainly living clothes.

I know that human riders are advised to wear durable fabrics for safety reasons -- leather, canvas, even denim in a pinch. But the curvy black fishnet bodysuit with white spandex tube top, shorts, and ankle boots -- that had to be a living outfit, rather than a sexily-dressed invisible woman. Ditto the empty woven top in a paint-explosion pattern matched with neon-green leggings and sneakers. They would have a better sense of balance than any solid, having less mass, and I’d expect them to have more confidence in their ability to stay upright as well. But many of these outfits, among both the usual riding outfits and the flashier items, had ice cream or some kind of snack hovering in front of it as though someone was eating it.

I took off my helmet and put it on the bike as my companion did the same. Then we made our way to the counter, where Abs and Sheila were waiting for us.

“Again, my treat,” Abs said. “No discussion. What kind do you want?”

I requested a chocolate sundae. “But what about--?” I probably might have pushed my luck by referring to my companion as Pinkie, at least in front of Abs and Sheila. But Abs was already ahead of me.

“I already ordered for her,” Abs said. “She had already told me what she wants.” In a couple of moments our treats were ready -- a chocolate shake hovered out for Abs, an ice-cream sandwich for Sheila, soft-serve vanilla with chocolate syrup for me, and pink ice cream (strawberry?) in a pink cookie cone for Pinkie. They hovered through the serving window to us.

I took my sundae and grabbed a seat, being the only one in the group that needed one. But before I started my sundae, I had to ask…

“Abs, how is it you guys can eat? I mean, you don’t have bodies…”

After a few chuckles, Abs’ voice said, “Well, technically we don’t eat,” even as the telltale high-pitched squeal of liquid being sucked through a straw came from her drink. “But we need energy to survive, same as you. How we get the energy from the food, well, I’m not sure how to explain that so you could relate to it…”

“OK,” I said, more or less expecting the answer to be… complicated. But there was something else I wondered about that I was sure wasn't complicated. “But can I ask you a personal question, Abs?”

“OK,” she said, sounding a little unsure.

“Why do they call you ‘Abs’?”

That got a chuckle from her and from Sheila. Even Pinkie shook from silent laughter. Then Abs said, “They call me Abs because… well, I guess because Tits would be kind of tacky.” More laughter.

“You didn’t ask,” she continued, “but I’m sure you’re wondering -- this figure is just how I like to look. The same way Sheila is based on your friend Shannon, I’m more or less based on your old coworker Mary.”

I chuckled. “The one who helped teach Shannon to ride a motorcycle,” I said. From the story Shannon told me it was pretty much a surprise similar to this trip, though of course more straightforward. I’m pretty sure there were no invisible and intangible tagalongs, or at least if there were neither Shannon nor Mary had mentioned them. But when I looked at Abs, I could definitely visualize Mary in that riding suit. 

Pretty soon we were all finished with our ice cream. There were plastic trash bags hovering around, presenting themselves to people as they finished their ice cream. A great way to prevent littering, I mused, as I tossed my trash inside.


As we all pulled out on our bikes, I heard Abs’ voice over the radio. “We’ll see you guys back at the office,” she said.

“Um, what?” I said. “I thought you said you would be controlling my bike!” The only verbal response I got was the sound of Abs’ and Sheila’s voices laughing. But Pinkie responded also, by squeezing my midsection a bit with her empty sleeves. The handlebars revved the engine at that point, just enough to tempt me to try something, if I’d be allowed.

I uncurled my fingers and pulled them off the handlebars. I was surprised I was allowed to do it, assuming that Abs would make sure I kept a tight grip. Right then the empty pink sleeves squeezed me again, and the handlebars revved the engine again, without my gloves on them. 

“Was that you?” I said, assuming that only Pinkie was tuned in at that point. Again the sleeves squeezed me, as the bike sped up. My hands were still in the air. “So you’re in control of the bike now?” Another squeeze, along with a two-second wheelie, the front tire lifting only about a foot off the ground..

“You’re Pinkie, right?” Another squeeze. But then there was the slightest touch on my face. Inside my helmet. Then the slightest of pokes, one in each armpit. “And I guess I don’t get any hints where we’re going?”

That was followed with more armpit pokes, these less subtle than the first. That didn’t really give me any hints, except to remind me of the day I met Pinkie… and Sheila…

In the meantime the bike made its way along a smooth but unpaved dirt path, which wound its way through woods for a couple of minutes before we pulled up at what looked like a working motel. 

The bike shut off, and Pinkie withdrew her sleeves. But then I hovered up and off the bike, floating in place until Pinkie was in front of me, with a pink duffel hovering beside her. Normally I would have been enthralled by that pink leather butt as the suit walked ahead of me, but I was a little unnerved by Pinkie’s display of… power?

I mean, Sheila was wearing Pinkie -- was Pinkie, basically -- when we first met. So presumably Pinkie was able to do whatever Sheila could do. What I was experiencing was basically a choice to show power differently than Sheila had… wasn’t it?. They both took control of vehicles I was supposed to be directing -- but Sheila told me what she was gonna do, while Pinkie snuck up on me. They both took control of clothes I was wearing -- but Sheila made the shape of a body pressing against me while I was agreeable to it, while Pinkie was floating me through the air like I was a balloon. In the end they just chose to use those same abilities in different ways. 

But Sheila didn’t unnerve me quite like this...


As Pinkie walked up to a door numbered 101, with me hovering behind, the door swung open by itself.  As the suit entered, the lights switched on but the suit continued facing the opposite direction until the door closed and locked itself behind me. I stared at the suit’s curves and, for the briefest of moments, I thought of Shannon, my flesh-and-blood coworker, in that suit. Then it turned around.

The outfit’s pink boots untied themselves as the pants stepped out of them. A hanger floated over from the closet as the outfit unzipped its jacket, revealing the familiar pink athletic jacket, crumpled a bit from being stuffed inside another outfit. The leather jacket hung itself up, and the hanger went back to the closet as the leather pants peeled away from the pink cloth pants underneath. The pants floated over to the closet leaving the not fully filled out athletic suit.

I expected the suit to fill out to Pinkie’s familiar shape, but instead both pieces just collapsed limply to the floor. Pink socks stepped free of the crumpled pants and walked over to the closet, with the pieces of the discarded athletic suit hovering above them, leaving me to envision a woman wearing nothing but socks picking up the outfit pieces from the floor and hanging them up.

The socks walked over to me. With no other items of clothing in use, I didn’t know just where to imagine an invisible face to go along with… I suppose the name Pinkie doesn’t fit anymore. Again. But even with nothing to look at but socks, I still thought of her as Pinkie. She was still using pink socks, after all.

An unseen hand caressed my face. I quickly reached for it, but it went away as the socks turned and walked over to one of the beds, where the duffel back was unzipping itself. A few items floated up out of it, one of them a sheer pink bra that immediately filled itself out around invisible curves above the socks. Matching panties came to rest between the bra and the socks, and then the assemblage turned and approached me.

But this time Pinkie wanted to be touched. Invisible arms came to rest on my shoulders as soft unseen lips pressed against mine. I reached in front of me, to find a warm and shapely invisible body matching what had been just a floating bra and panties. I wrapped my arms around the unseen form and continued the kiss. 

Another item hovered out of the duffel bag and filled itself out. But rather than just puffing into shape like the underwear, this item -- a yellow and white sleepsuit -- moved as if an invisible woman was stepping into it. A tall one, tall enough that my eye level was just level with her boobs. Of course it was all for show, since there were no imprints of invisible feet on the floor by the self-inflating onesie. 

Once the sleepsuit was filled out,  the duffel bag zipped itself closed. When the onesie walked toward me and… well, toward us, I didn't know what to expect. But it stepped behind me and wrapped its sleeves around me even as I moved to nuzzle an unseen neck above the bra. I felt breast-shapes pressing against my back, and they seemed to be moving, even as the suit itself stayed in place behind me. 

The breast forms seemed to be rotating against my back, like the nubs of an oversized back massager. Sensory overload started to kick in -- I wanted to turn around and check out this new development, but not so much that I wanted to turn away from the curvy invisible kisser in front of me.

Movement in front of me, by where the onesie's invisible hands were clasped against my waist, finally drove me to break the kiss and look down, where my belt buckle was undoing itself. Pinkie, or the unseen lingerie-clad form I still thought of as Pinkie, took a couple of steps back as my belt finished undoing itself. My pants unzipped themselves and pulled themselves down my legs.

The waistband of my drawers pulled away from me, as an unseen hand reached in and began to play. The clasped hands of the pajamas were still in place, and Pinkie was still standing beyond my reach. She seemed to be picking up where Sheila had left off at showing me this control she had, her ability to… let's call it "multitasking." She was taking it way beyond what Sheila had shown me -- so far, at least.

None of this was quite what I had expected when Abs passed control of the bike to Pinkie, or when I was “warned” about Pinkie getting payback, but I wasn’t arguing…