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Kai

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May 8th, 2010 Posted 15:51

This is the first of a few stories that I started but never continued. If anyone wants to take it and continue then feel free, just make sure you credit where it came from. I didn’t have a title for it, so that’s why it’s labeled as simple as it is. To repeat… This is not a complete story. I have no plans on continuing it, so read on at your own discretion.

Lili

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I was nervous as I stood at the door to the house I was told I would be staying at for the foreseeable future. So much had changed over the last few months that I was still reeling from the shock. However, before I could sink into the depression I was regularly teetering back and forth into, the door opened and I was greeted with a bright smile.

“Hi, you must be Kai!” The tall dark haired girl I was staring at was virtually bouncing when I nodded my response. I still wasn’t very vocal, even after months of therapy. She stood aside and opened the door wide. “I’m Nichole, but you can call me Nikki. Well, come on in. Mi casa es su casa.”

Spanish sounded really weird coming from a Japanese looking girl. I should probably say Japanese-American. There was no way this girl was anything but pure-bread American raised. Squatting down slightly I picked up the entirety of my life; a single suitcase, a small one at that.

Living at, what amounted to, a hospital limited the amount of clothes I would normally wear.

The house was anything but simple; it was gigantic. The marble flooring made every step Nikki took in her two inch heels almost echo up the grand stairs dead set in the middle of the room. At the top it split off in opposite directions to what I assumed were many many bedrooms.

“Let’s get you settled into your room and then I’ll give you the tour.”

Nikki’s best assets were her legs and butt. Japanese girls weren’t known for their bubble butts, however she seemed to have acquired that pleasant looking gene somewhere along the Oshiro bloodline, or maybe there was some other recessive DNA in play on her mother’s side.

We were almost to the top when I remembered not to stare any longer. It really wouldn’t be proper to ogle your benefactor on your first day under her roof, not to mention I was supposed to be depressed at the moment.

We hung a right at the top and climbed another short staircase that emptied into a hallway with five doors on the left and five on the right. It was decorated in deep red lush carpeting along with several dozen ceremonial masks, all old Japanese style. I stared momentarily before moving on to the third door on the left.

Nikki stopped there and opened it with a flourish. “This one’s yours. I’m next door.” She pointed at the second door on the left before entering the room I was to use.

When I entered I was bowled over at the extravagance of the décor. A four poster queen-sized bed was against the left wall, set in the middle. On the hallway wall was a large dresser with an equally long mirror hooked on the back.

“I got you a few things, just in case you weren’t in the mood to go shopping right away. It’s nothing special: some undies, a couple pair of shorts, a couple yoga outfits, some tees. We can go out whenever you want and build you up a decent wardrobe.”

She seemed like she was trying her best not to step on my toes and cringed a little when she ran through the inventory. Then she crossed the floor and opened up a decent sized walk in closet. “Excitement here. It’s a closet!” Nikki pointed at a wooden crosshatch space on the wall. “A pair of cross trainers, and sandals. Basics. Again, more later when we shop.”

After closing that door Nikki moved to the last door that was already open. “Your own private bathroom. I went ahead and got you a hair dryer, and some hair care supplies. Daddy said that your hair was just like mine, and he was right, sort of. I really love the length on yours.”

At the mention of my hair I reached up and touched it. It was a brown/black mix, parted down the middle and ran the length of my back, almost to my butt. I was tempted to cut it so many times at the hospital, but I wasn’t allowed any scissors and was told that I would come to regret cutting it eventually. I was to wait another month and if I still felt the same then I was told a professional could cut and style it different.

She showed me where the towels were and informed me that there was maid service so not to worry about making my bed or cleaning up. “Just make sure you hang your bath towel and put your clothes down the laundry chute over there. That’s their only bitch.”

I nodded.

Nikki gave me a sorrowful grin. “Daddy said you don’t talk much. I guess he was right.”

Guilt dug into my belly, and I cleared my throat. “Sorry.” I shuffled my feet for a moment. “I don’t like the sound of my voice.”

That was more true than you could realize. It was so high pitched, not like a Barbie bimbo, but more like the anime girls I used to watch on TV growing up, high pitched and loud. It just wasn’t me, or I should say it wasn’t like the old me. It fits the new me perfectly.

“Well, I’m supposed to rag on you to open up and talk about your feelings and annoying stuff like that.” At the look on my face she quickly amended her statement. “You’ll talk if and when you want to talk. When you do feel like talking, I’m here to listen.”

I let myself sigh in relief. “Thank you.” At a glance toward the dresser I added. “And thank you for not buying me tons of girlie clothes, just yet.”

She nodded and smiled. “Daddy told me a little about what happened. Not all of it, but enough to let me know what I needed to do to help you.”

We both stood there in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Nikki ended the torture. “Look, why don’t you take a bath and get rid of the hospital stink. Save your clothes and we’ll burn them out back.” She shuddered. “There’s nothing worse than hospital clothes.” At that, I smiled. It brought a little humor to an awkward moment.

“I’d like that.”

Nikki smiled with almost all of her teeth at my response. “Just wrap your hair up and I’ll help you dry it.”

With the mention of help I nodded with pleasure. That was one task I never looked forward to after washing the massive amount of hair hanging from my head. She made for the door and brushed her hand along mine.

“I’ll be in the kitchen at the back of the house when you’re through. Are you hungry?”

I shook my head.

“Okay then. See you in a bit.”

~O~

The only thing I was surprised about, seeing as this was a very swank house, was the lack of a shower. There was a very nice sunken tub that could probably seat four of me, and it had a flex hose with an adjustable shower head on the end. However, it was basically used for rinsing after the bath, not for an actual shower.

There wasn’t any regular soap either. I had the choice between bath beads or body wash; both of which were scented with lavender. While the bathtub was filling I read the back of the bottle of body wash. Lavender was supposed to be soothing, for stressful days. Well, I’d had some stressful months. Maybe the bubble bath wasn’t such a bad idea.

I took a handful of beads and tossed them under the running water before stripping and then sitting on the side of the tub to stare at the forming bubbles.

I did enjoy the relaxing bath. It was nice to know that I was finally out from under the doctor’s thumb, not to mention the nurses, and physical and mental therapists as well. I was the last to leave of the group that was physically whole. I still shuddered at the image of a small group of boys and girls that didn’t fair very well at what was done to them, all in the name of experimental science. The younger they were, the worse the experiments tended to be. Some, with withered arms, some with no arms. Some, with hands three times the size of their original, some with virtually skeletal hands. Some with…

Opening my eyes to rid myself of the images I remember with vivid detail, I brushed away the tears that had fallen down my face, and let anger replace my sadness and horror. It was the only way I could stay sane with everything that I had been through. I mean it’s not every day that you have your life stolen from you, along with the life of your twin sister of eighteen years.

~O~

I’d become an expert at the towel turban thing. I could even make it so tight that I could bend over without it falling off. It was a hot day and I wanted to be comfortable before setting out to retrieve Nikki. A tee, shorts, and sandals was enough for me. I did restrain the growths on my chest with a tight sports bra. They weren’t implants so I was able to squash them down efficiently, where they were barely visible as two little lumps. The doctors said that they probably wouldn’t grow anymore. B-cups were more than enough, and considering my origins, any growth was too much.

I couldn’t expand my concave waist, except by gaining thirty pounds the old fashion way, and my hips were a lost cause. The one thing out of my entire body that wasn’t changed? My legs. I don’t know if this was a knock on them or what; they were feminine enough as it was.

A knock at the door interrupted my musing. It cracked open and Nikki’s voice sounded. “Kai, are you decent?”

“Yeah.”

She opened the door further and saw me sitting on the edge of my bed. I blinked a few times, realizing I had zoned out again.

“Hey,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to bother you, but it’s been an hour and a half. I was getting worried.”

I stood and walked over to the window overseeing the back yard, well some of the back yard on this side of the house. “I zoned out. It happens,” I replied. “The doctors say that it’s supposed to be a symptom of PTSD.”

Her footfalls barely sounded on the carpet, but I could quite easily tell she was behind me and to my right. “What’s that?”

“Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Sometime I get caught up with what’s in my head that I don’t function properly. I lose track of time or cry for no apparent reason.”

I felt her hand slip into mine, and I looked down. Nikki went to withdraw it, perhaps thinking she wasn’t suppose to touch me. It was easy to assume that, since I’ve been quite violent over the past couple of months when people touch me without permission. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t stand being near people, much less have them invade my personal space.

She apologized immediately. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

The thing was that for one of the first times in recent memory, I didn’t mind a virtual stranger’s hand in mine. The other patients at the hospital were the only exceptions. We clung to each other during and after the ordeal. We were the only people we trusted. Now here was someone that had taken me in, and offered to help me adjust to my new self, no strings attached. It was all out of the goodness of her heart. You can imagine my skepticism, at first. But Nikki seemed to be the genuine article, from what little I’ve seen.

She didn’t pull away too far, so I tentatively inched my hand back into her hers. “It’s okay.”

Nikki reminded me of my sister in more than a few ways. Sarah was a free spirit and often touched others like there was no problem with it in any way. With a genuine smile she squeezed my fingers. “Want me to help with your hair?”

I nodded and she led me to what I recognized as a makeup table. “It’ll help, since you can sit down.”

Making myself as comfortable as I could get, Nikki removed the towel and let my hair fall free.

“Oh, well, it’s mostly dry already. I’ll just brush it out.” She retreated to the bathroom and returned armed with a large brush and few other things clasped in her hand which she reached out to me. “I was thinking that I could braid it for you. It won’t be in your way.”

I nodded in acceptance. That actually sounded pretty good.

The repetitive motions as she worked her way up from the bottom sent me off into my mind once more. A picture of my sister’s room flashed in my mind, and doing this exact same thing play itself out, except I was the one doing the brushing. She loved it so much when I played with her hair. Granted it wasn’t quite as long as my current mess. Sarah’s made it to the bottom of her shoulder blades. I would spend many evenings brushing it for her while we talked.

I never understood other siblings, friends of ours at school, when they would complain about their opposites. Sarah and I loved each other. We were best friends as well as brother and sister. We enjoyed spending any amount of time together, even to the point of sleeping with one another quite often. There was absolutely nothing that I wouldn’t do for her or she for me.

Some of our friends would make fun of us on occasion, that we were more like a married couple instead of siblings. We’d finish each other’s sentences, anticipate the wants and needs of the other, go everywhere together, including dates.

That thought brought a shift of scenery within my mind.

Dating was problematic with either of us. It became well known that we were a joined pair. If someone asked Sarah out then it was expected that I would be coming along, either with my own date or by myself. There just wasn’t a question about it. It was like we were two halves of the same person, which being twins was almost poetic.

It caused a few problems along the way, but only from the outsider’s perspective. If they made a problem about the subject then we’d call an end to their attempt at dating. There was one time that a girl I asked out wanted to go a little further, physically. I was all for it, but Sarah wasn’t interested in her date, at the time, in that way. So, I refused the advances from the girl.

I know, we were weird, but I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Sarah was my other half. Life just wasn’t fun when she wasn’t around. It wasn’t interesting or worth much of living either. That’s what caused many of the problems at the Hospital.

When I was told that she died, I went into shock. I shut down, not talking or even responding to anything or anyone for three weeks. I remember the time vividly. The drugs they pumped into me didn’t affect my mind at all as I replayed our lives together, everything that I could remember.

“Kai?”

My eyes flickered to Nikki’s reflection in the mirror. “Hmm?”

“Zoning out again?”

I gave her a slight nod.

“I’m done.”

Already? I brought my attention to my hair and saw that the back had been pulled tight and woven into a simple braid, and the front had a poof of bangs with a little hanging down on both sides, accenting my face. “Thank you.”

She nodded with a hopeful look in her eyes. “I’m not going to push makeup on you right now, but can I shape your eyebrows?”

What did I say about offending the person that took me in? Sarah would never forgive me if I was rude, so I looked down and nodded in response. Nikki retrieved another chair and sat beside me as I turned to her. She opened the main drawer to the makeup table and took out a pair of tweezers. After taking a long look at my face she began plucking my errant hairs.

What she was doing was uncomfortable, but not painful. I was used to pain. After every medical session with the people that did this to me, I was well used to feeling aches, stabbing, shooting, burning, and searing pain. The act of pulling a few hairs was nothing in comparison.

“There, all done.”

I did it again. Lost time.

Turning to the mirror I saw her work. My eyebrows were definitely thinner, but overtly so. It was only on the ends where they slightly arched and came to delicate points that changed mostly. It was pretty, something that I was still not used to.

I grew up a Caucasian boy for sixteen years of my life. Now I was an eighteen year old Japanese girl. No matter how much I looked at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t find the face that I was familiar with. My green eyes, were now brown, and the lids formed into a single covering, making the eyes themselves seem narrow with a thin almond shape. My jaw was rounded and cheekbones raised with more prominence. From the look of my face, I wouldn’t need makeup to look pretty. It was already too natural looking… or unnatural looking, as the case may be.

Nikki seemed to be placated with the minor change. It was good enough for me. Maybe she would take pity on me and not push anything else on me for that day.

“Come on, it’s tour time.”

She returned her chair to the wall, where it stood previously, before holding her hand out to me. That was another thing that Sarah used to do. Stepping up beside her I took the proffered hand and we left my sanctuary.

Nikki was tall compared to me. I was only five-five and was currently in flat heeled sandals, while she had two inch heels she still had a few inches on top of that. It made me feel… comfortable?

Her father, a lieutenant with the Houston Police Department, was the one that I felt most comfortable being around. He was the one that when he appeared would make the doctors go away. He was the one that led the raid on the place where they killed my sister. He was the one that opened the locked door of my room and carried me out to the sun again as I shook in fright.

Her father was the one that told me the truth with every question I asked. He was also the one that told me about Sarah when the doctors wouldn’t.

They wouldn’t let him visit after that.

It was three weeks later when he finally got a court order to verify my well being. That’s what broke me from my self-imposed catatonia.

In every way imaginable Akio Oshiro was my hero, which was convenient, since his name meant ‘glorious hero’. That was the reason that I fervently agreed to his offer of living in his home, mostly with his only daughter. The treatment at the hospital was doing nothing for me. The doctors were at a loss and were about to commit me to a long term institution, probably to drug me for the rest of my life and stick me a room where I could slowly waste away.

Akio had a different view on the subject. At first the head doctor wouldn’t have anything to do with the idea, that was until Akio put the full weight of his influence upon the physician. It was amazing how many tickets a person can receive driving only ten miles between their home and work, how many times a person could be rousted at the pub they frequented and taken to jail for Public Intoxication, even when they had only a single drink.

It was the time spent in the drunk tank that convinced the doctor to let him try out the little experiment. Perhaps the doctor realized the depth of being incarcerated against his will, or maybe he met an unwanted friend while he spent the night. Either way, I was released into Akio’s custody for one month. If I didn’t show signs of improvement then I would return.

I owed him my freedom, and perhaps my sanity. I would do anything for him, even if that meant submitting myself to become the girl that I had been transformed into so that I wouldn’t let him down.

“Kai?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked if there was anything special you wanted to do on your first day out.”

I slowly blinked. There was only one thing that I desired. “I want to see my sister’s grave.”

Nikki’s lips pursed as I knew she was thinking of a way to refuse me. That was one of the restrictions that was set in the conditions of my release. The U.S. Marshals Service entered me in the Witness Protection Program. I was given a new identity. My old bank account was closed, the house where my sister and I grew up was sold. Sarah’s will was executed and I was the sole beneficiary. My old life, for all intents and purposes, was ended. Three cashiers checks were made out to me, so I could set up new accounts without detection.

That’s where Kaidan Tira, or Kai for short, was brought to life. According to everyone I now knew, I was born in Dallas, on August 13, 1991. The day has significance, to me and to my benefactors. It’s the day that they celebrate Obon, the celebration of the dead. Okinawa, where the Oshiro family originally hails from, chose the thirteenth day of August to recognize their dead ancestors as an entire family. It’s the day Akio suggested for me. Once I found out the significance, I agreed.

My imaginary parents came from the same island and village as Akio. That gave me a reason, as an outsider, to be welcome in their home. I wouldn’t be treated as a guest, as such; it would be more like if your next door neighbor sought refuge in your home after their’s burned down. The back story was that my family died in an accident and I was sent to them as Akio and my imaginary father grew up in Okinawa together.

The only way I could pull this off was if I understood Japanese fluently. I did. I actually understood eight languages fluently, not to mention seven different Japanese dialects under one of those, as well. It’s a gift. Sarah’s gift was in mathematics; she mastered college level calculus as a freshman in high school. She was suppose to start college a couple of weeks at the University of Texas in Austin in a few day’s time. A full scholarship. MIT offered an equivalent, but we would have been separated, so she refused. That’s how much my sister loved me.

Not being able to attend the funeral was devastating, but never to be able to see her grave was unacceptable; security precautions be damned.

“I know where she is buried, Kai. We could see it from a distance if that would be okay for now. Once the trial is over and all of the criminals behind bars or dead then it would be safe for you and my family to visit.”

They were going out on a limb for me by providing me a home, knowing that I was a target. I couldn’t, in good conscious put them in danger. “Thank you.”

She nodded her acknowledgement. “Okay. If you want to do this then we have to make you look more normal.”

This time is was me who pursed my lips. There was always a catch. Before I had a chance to state my complaint she was explaining. “Kai, you’re a wreck. You have bags under your eyes and your legs are hairier than Daddy’s. What you’re wearing is fine for the house, but the average girl has some standards.”

I turned and sighed as I crossed my arms.

“I’m not saying I want to doll you up and go out partying. That would stand out as well. But you have to admit it’s the extremes that get noticed. Too ratty or too pretty and you’ll stand out. I’m going for something in between. Even I’m going to tone it down.”

Before I looked like I was going to sink any further I nodded with acceptance.

~O~

She showed me how to shave my legs, and under my arms without drawing blood. Afterward, I sat at the makeup table as she applied a light amount of daytime color, masking the dark circles as well. The sports bra had to go as I would look like a preteen with it on. When all was said and done I had to grudgingly admit that I looked like an average teenager.

While Nikki was getting ready, I looked at myself in the full length mirror hanging from the back of the closet door. The green tank top scooped low enough to expose the tops of my breasts and high enough to almost show my navel. The white shorts were only a couple of inches below my crotch and were low cut, barely hanging on my hip bones. That was it. I was exposed to the extreme.

Annoying jewelry was hanging on my neck, wrists and fingers. The most I had ever worn before was a wristwatch, now I felt like I had half the jewelry store on my body. I did talk her out of piercing my ears for now, but I already knew that eventually was going to be a losing battle.

The only thing that remained of my previous attempt at dressing were the sandals, exposing my now painted toenails. She said I could leave my fingernails for now since they were in good shape already. Thank god short nails were in style.

When Nikki returned from changing we could have been sisters. She was dressed almost exactly like I was, only taller. Now that she was out of her heels, I could better judge her height, maybe three inches taller than me, which put her around five-eight.

“Okay, the cemetery is located across from a strip mall, so the plan is to go shopping, buy a couple of things, then grab an ice cream and take a walk. That way we won’t look out of place in the area, okay?”

I had planned to slowly let her do the girlie stuff over the course of a month. Now I was about two weeks past my mental schedule. I wasn’t happy, but at least I could see Sarah’s grave, so I agreed.

~O~

Half the makeup supply store later, not to mention a sidewalk sale at Ross, and we were sitting on a bench across from the cemetery licking ice cream cones.

“Two columns to the left and four rows up,” Nikki indicated before licking the quickly melting dessert.

I followed her direction and spotted a grave where broken up sod lay over a freshly packed dirt.

“Keep eating your cone. You don’t want to look like you’re staring.”

My tongue went on automatic as I wished more than anything in the world that I had some super bionic eyesight or a really nice pair of binoculars.

“What’s the marker say?”

I heard the crunch of Nikki biting into her cone. A moment later she answered. “I don’t know. I haven’t actually been to her grave.”

The thought of finishing the ice cream made me sick to my stomach, so I stood and dropped it into the trash about five feet from the bench. Nikki was right behind me. “We need to go.”

My hand tightened on the bag I was carrying. “We just got here,” I complained.

“Do not look behind us. I think we’ve been spotted.”

I resisted the urge, just barely. “Where’s the car?”

Nikki shook her head. “We can’t take the car. If they spot the license plate then they can track us to the house. We’ll have to deal with them here.”

A familiar rush of adrenaline raced through me. My heart beat faster and my breathing increased. “How? Do you have a gun?”

“No.” A quick scan of the strip center in front of us and she nudged me to the left. “Go between the buildings over there.”

“In the alley?”

“Yeah.”

It took us less than a minute to slip to the back of the strip mall. Nikki reached into her purse and withdrew something cylindrical, about four or five inches in length. “Hide behind the dumpster, and whatever happens let me deal with it. Do not come out. I don’t want them to get a good look at you and confirm that you’re here.”

She put her back against the wall and flung out the small pipe with a snap. I deduced there was more to the thing than I originally thought since it extended almost two feet in length and looked a lot sturdier with the addition.

I heard running footsteps as someone cornered the side of the building. Nikki whipped the baton out and smashed it into the guy’s knee with a audible snap he went down in pain. Something clicked to the pavement and slid almost right in front of me. It was a gun.

With a quick look to make sure nobody else was coming I snagged it and looked it over. The safety was still on and once I found the ejector release I verified that the clip was full.

“Why are you following us?” Nikki asked in a surprisingly calm voice.

“Fucking bitch! You busted my knee!”

Two of Nikki’s fingers lanced him in the chest, and she covered his mouth with her other hand which did not have the baton in it any more. His scream was muffled until she poked him again in another portion of his torso. “That was for not answering my question, the next one will hurt a lot more.”

“We’re after the other one! We don’t want you.”

“Thank you. Did you record her face, my face, or the car we were driving in any way?”

“No.”

She jabbed him again three times, in quick succession and then covered his mouth as he screamed.

This went on for half a minute before she ended his pain. “Don’t lie to me again, or I will kill you right here.”

Sweat ran off of his face and he whimpered. “My cell in my pocket.”

A few seconds later she retrieved it and tossed the battery, but slid the phone in her purse.  “Very good. We’re almost done here. Did you send our pictures to anyone?”

He shook his head. “No, I promise.”

“I believe you.” She smiled at him. I was dumfounded. “Is there anyone else on duty with you?”

He shook his head again. “No.”

Nikki narrowed her eyes and reared back to poke him again until he protested. “No, no! I promise, there’s nobody else here.”

“Where were you suppose to bring her?”

I stood from behind the dumpster and stepped out. My pulse was pounding in my ears, and all the sound in the area was cut off. A blackness entered into my field of vision where all I could see was the sweaty white man laying on the ground. When he looked at me I saw recognition on his face. The thing was, that I recognized him as well.

Kneeling by his face I transferred the pistol to my left hand, away from him so he couldn’t make a grab for it.

“I know you.” I reached out and slid my palm lovingly against his face. “Did you rape my sister like you raped me?”

He shook his head, and I saw his mouth moving but no sound was coming out. I frowned and stood up. Why wouldn’t he answer me? Well, his crimes against me was more than enough to warrant his punishment. So, I reared back with my leg and stomped as hard as I could on his throat. When I saw him grab at the new injury and the blood that expelled from his mouth everything came back into focus.

Nikki was looking at me with something akin to surprise, but she didn’t let it take away from the task at hand. She rifled through his pockets as he stared thrashing from lack of air. A crushed windpipe will do that to a person.

“Put the pistol in your bag and go to the car, Kai.”

I looked at her with no emotion at all. “Not yet.”

She came up with a wallet, keys, and a money clip, stuffing both in her purse, before taking out some tissues and waiting until he stilled. After wiping where I touched his face she tossed the tissues in the bag. The last thing I remembered about his face was his bloodshot eyes.

~O~

“Kai?”

I have no idea how we wound up on the freeway. “Hmm?”

“I asked if you were okay?”

I nodded. “I’m fine.”

Nikki glanced at me for a moment before turning her eyes back to the road. “Do you want to talk about what just happened?”

I frowned for a moment. “About what? Shopping?”

Her mouth opened for a second and then closed. “You don’t remember the guy?”

“Guy?”

Was this a quiz or something?

Nikki’s lips pursed. “Look in your shopping bag.”

I furrowed my brow for a moment before reaching into the back seat and grabbing my bag. It was heavier than I remember.

“Be careful,” she warned.

Be careful of clothes and makeup? Even I wasn’t that afraid of shopping. It didn’t take me long to figure out what she wanted me to find. Needless to say I was kind of surprised. “Why is there a gun in my bag?”

This time she didn’t take her eyes off the road. “Are you telling me you don’t remember us being spotted and confronting a guy?”

I blinked. It was like there was a blank portion of my memory. I plainly remembered throwing my ice cream away and then walking toward the car. Everything after that was… nothing.

“No,” I answered timidly. Looking down into the bag again I asked, “Was that his?”

“Yeah. We need to get rid of it. There’s no telling how many crimes he’s committed with that pistol and I don’t want us connected to any of them.”

A stupid thought ran through my head. “I want it.”

She looked at me like I was crazy. “Right. I don’t think that’s an option.”

Now I was being treated like a kid, and that pissed me off. “I need some way to protect myself.”

She considered that argument for a moment. “If you want to learn how to defend yourself then I’ll teach you. Even I don’t use a gun.”

Oh, anti-gun nut. “That’s easy to say when someone isn’t pointing a gun at you and all you have are your fists.”

That’s how we were taken, me and my sister. I know how to defend myself, so did Sarah. We’d been raised on martial arts. But when someone is ten feet away and leveling a pistol at you, all the martial arts in the world won’t stop the bullet from killing you.

“Answer me this then, Kai. If someone is holding you at gunpoint, would having one stashed in your purse or even within quick reach help you in any way?” My lack of response egged her on. “What you do is bide your time and hope that you can use what you have learned to escape or overpower them at a later point.”

I didn’t like it, but I reluctantly gave in for the time being. In my opinion, one could never have enough weapons.

“Now we have to dismantle that pistol, wipe it down and spread the pieces around.”

I reached in her console and withdrew a couple of tissues before popping the clip and jacking out the round in the chamber. Nikki looked at me in mild surprise. Growing up in a family that advocates hunting made me familiar with the general workings of firearms. Since I didn’t have to worry about putting it back together, I was fairly confidant in my ability to take apart an unfamiliar weapon.

Within a minute I had the nine millimeter rounds out of the clip and was wiping the back of them down, where my thumb had touched them. A quick look in the side view mirror hadn’t revealed any cars behind us, so one at a time, over the course of a mile I tossed the bullets out the window. Nikki made a random turn and I got rid of the empty clip. The rest of the weapon broke down into five pieces, three of which could be readily identified as belonging to a pistol by even the most lay of people, so I had to wait until we were over water before losing them.

Nikki nodded at my efficiency, and then withdrew a black leather billfold from her purse and handed it to me. “Recognize anything in there?”

I opened it up took out the wad of cash that was secured by a money clip in the middle. “I recognize the cash.”

She giggled at that. “You needed some spending money anyway.”

Counting through it, I came up with a fairly large amount. “Is it normal for hired thugs to carry around almost two thousand dollars?”

Nikki shrugged. “It’s easier to stay under the radar if you don’t use credit cards. Cash greases a lot of wheels.”

With a shrug I dropped it in the shopping bag, and then continued my perusal of with the rest of the contents. “Well, the lack of any credit cards supports your thesis, and the driver’s license is fake, a really bad fake too.”

“Don’t toss the license. We’ll burn it later. Everything else can go.”

Something wasn’t sitting right with me. “How come you know to do this stuff? I mean I get why we did everything your way, but how come you know to do it?”

A little smile tweaked at the corners of her mouth. “How old do you think I am?”

I shrugged. “Nineteen, twenty.”

“Thank you,” she replied in a smug manner. “I’m actually thirty-one.”

All tension left my jaw and it loosened, opening slightly.

“I’m a criminal justice major, graduated college when I was twenty-one and became a cop with the HPD. I worked for them for eight years before being denied five times to join SWAT. Unless you really make a name for yourself or know someone, a little Jap girl can’t make it into the Marshal’s service any other way. That’s my career goal. So Daddy arranged for me to be your personal guard. Officially, I’m on extended leave. Unofficially, I hope to make a name for myself.”

~O~

We made it back to the mansion by mid-afternoon. I took my clothes upstairs and hung them up. It wasn’t much, a couple of blouses and a pair of shoes. It wound up making the closet look even more empty than it was before. A frown made its way to my face.

It was one thing to accept my fate. There wouldn’t be a way in the foreseeable future to return to being male. The process I underwent was at the genetic level, which only the doctor that led the experiment understood, and he was currently out there, somewhere in the wide open world, on the run.

I knew I should just accept my fate and embrace my new body, but that was easier said than done. This month I could expect my menstruation cycle to start. At the hospital, they kept me on specific drugs that stopped its occurrence, supposedly to let me deal with my mental issues first. However, since I was out, on my own it was part of my therapy. Needless to say, I wasn’t looking forward to it in the least.

Sitting on my bed, I stared at the floor. In one day, Nikki had accomplished what the doctors and therapists at the hospital couldn’t. I wasn’t too feminine. I mean I was in shorts and a tank, but my legs were shaven, I was wearing panties and a regular bra, not to mention the make up that she talked me into. For all intents and purposes I was an average everyday girl. The thing was, I wasn’t freaking out.

It was definitely a strange experience. I was amazed about how smooth my skin felt without the hair, how comfortable the underwear and clothes were since they fit my body and weren’t the scratchy cotton/poly blend that the hospital provided.

My hair was out of my face, but it was pulled back and in a feminine braid. That was nice, more so because it wasn’t getting tangled up in everything. Overall everything was tolerable. If my current mode of femininity would get me by then I was willing to accept it and maintain the look. Anything more, at this point was unacceptable.

A grimace overcame my features. I said, ‘at this point’. That could only mean that there would come a time in my future that the possibility of increasing my girliness would arrive. That would mean skirts, dresses, high heels, thicker makeup, dating…

No, never. The thought of dating men was, again, unacceptable. No matter what happened to my body, my mind was still male and strongly heterosexual within that aspect. I was attracted to females, as I always had been, before the kidnapping. In fact I was attracted to Nikki… even if she was thirty-one.

Thirty-one! She didn’t look a day over twenty, and definitely dressed and acted like she was around my age, but maybe that was because of her guard duty. I suppose it would look weird if I was being followed around by an older lady or a man. A girlfriend wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

Girlfriend.

I wondered if she would be interest in dating an eighteen year old. Shaking my head, I fell back on the bed and covered my face with my hands. Age might not be an issue, but gender might. What are the odds she would be a lesbian, because with my current equipment there was no doubt about the label that would be applied to me.

Maybe that’s how I could get my hair cut! I could be butch. Then I wouldn’t have to wear makeup, or dress in girlie clothes. Jeans, and a close cropped haircut would be perfect. I wouldn’t be able to fulfill my manly duties without a penis, but I could do everything else. A penis did not define manliness. While I’m sure there would be a number of guys out there that would disagree, I had to justify my reasoning somehow. Besides, I could always go out and buy a strap-on or something. It could be any size I wanted. Granted I wouldn’t be able to feel anything, but it was my partner’s pleasure I would be concerned about.

With a groan, I threw out my arms and stared up at the ceiling. What am I talking about?! I just got out of the hospital and here I am thinking about dildos. I’ve got to get my priorities straight.

I pushed myself up and looked around. Nope, no computer. I needed to change that situation. Until then I needed some paper and a pen. Hopping off the bed I checked a few of the drawers and found nothing.

“Whatcha doin’?”

I almost prided myself for not jumping out of my skin. It was only Nikki. “Looking for something to write with.” I closed the last drawer and straightened my back. “We need to go shopping. I need a computer.” Then I frowned. “Not to mention a bank card, so I can buy a computer and other stuff.”

She cocked an eyebrow at me. “When I said we needed to go shopping for you, I had hoped you understood that I meant for clothes.”

I nodded. “That too.”

That seemed to placate her. “Oh, cool. Well, it’s too close to suppertime to leave now. Once Daddy gets home we’ll eat and then go to the mall.”

“What about the bankcard? You can’t keep paying for everything. I have my own money.”

“Tomorrow. Everything doesn’t have to be done in one day. Besides, don’t you have some newfound wealth?” Nikki looked over at the wad of bills lying on the bed.

Oh yeah.

“That should be enough for a pretty nice laptop, unless you’re a hacker…” She eyed me warily. “Please tell me you’re not a hacker.”

I shook my head. “I just want to be able to do some research online and the regular stuff. I just hate using paper and pen. No security.”

Nikki nodded in understanding. “Alright, that leaves us an hour and a half before Daddy gets home. Did you want to learn some self defense in the meanwhile, or do you want some time to yourself.”

“What can you teach me that has some sort of weapon. The martial arts I know wasn’t really geared for my body style.”

She thought about it for a moment. “There is Okinawan Kubudo, though most of those weapons are illegal to carry if you don’t have a license.”

“Are there any that aren’t?”

She nodded. “Gifa, are legal. It’s kind of hard to outlaw hair sticks.”

The look on my face informed her that I was serious and not out to poke someone with a stick the size of a pencil. She laughed. “Don’t knock it until you try it, Kai. Anything can be a weapon if used properly.”

I raised my eyebrow at her. “Yeah, but me holding a chopstick isn’t very intimidating. How about that baton you used earlier.”

Nikki’s eyes widened a little. “I thought you didn’t remember anything about what happened.”

I was about to reply when I remembered that I didn’t remember. My mouth jogged from open to close a few times. “I…”

“Maybe it will come back to you later. What I used was a collapsible baton, an Asp.” Her face brightened. “And if we use two of them they could double for Tambo.”

I nodded. “Fine. Tambo is fine.”

~O~

Kubudo is for people that had virtually no skill in Karate, at least that’s what Nikki told me. What I figured out after my first lesson was that if I didn’t have any skill, I’d probably be black and blue. As it was, my mind was all for reacting in a certain way, but my body was having none of it. Basically I was out of practice and I looked like the only skill I possessed was watching old Kung Fu movies on TV.

I’d have to seriously get to work on my kata’s if I wanted to do anything other than give the bad guys a good laugh.

I did learn the basics of the beginning of how to hold the asps properly. The proper way to learn this specific art was to remember that I wasn’t supposed to move my wrists. All movement was at the elbow and shoulder, for maximum power. My targets were the extremities of my opponent: anywhere on the arms, legs, head, and crotch was fair game.  The joints were preferable, as I stood a good chance of disarming my opponent, stunning the area into non-movement, or breaking the joint if I hit hard enough in the right place.

It was a lot like when Nikki broke that guy’s kneecap.

A flash of me squatting behind a dumpster and seeing a pistol sliding toward me shot across my mind. Nikki poked him, made him scream. The smooth wet feel of his face when I stroked his cheek while he denied raping me. The sound of his throat popping when I… when I…

Nausea overwhelmed me and I could feel my heart pumping at twice its normal pace. I turned off the water to the bathtub and barely made it to the toilet before dry heaving.

“Kai?” Nikki called from the bedroom door as my stomach continued in its attempt to exit my body as painfully as possible.

My face was flushed and hot, my throat hurt, and my abdomen was killing me, but still I heaved on.

“Kai, what happened?” she said with a worried tone in her voice.

When she touched my shoulder the convulsions stopped. Reflexively I flushed the toilet even though nothing had come out since the last time I flushed.

“I killed him,” I gasped between breaths.

She kneeled down beside me and pulled my head under her chin. “Yes, you did.”

Tears were trailing down my cheeks and I couldn’t calm down. “I didn’t… I didn’t even care.”

“Kai, listen to me.” Nikki pulled away from me and got me to look her in the eyes. “Did you recognize him? Did he rape you?”

I closed my eyes and squeezed them tight, nodding before I choked out a sob. We sat there for I don’t know how long as she petted my hair and whispered soothing things I couldn’t really hear.

“Nichole? Kai? Are you two in here?” It was Akio, Nikki’s dad. I really didn’t want him to see me like this, but before I could say anything, Nikki saved me.

“Daddy, don’t come in. Kai is in the bath, we’ll be down later, okay?”

“Is everything okay?” he asked curiously.

“Everything’s fine Daddy.”

“Alright, I’ll have Maria keep your dinners warm. Take your time.”

“Thank you,” Nikki answered.

I was still shaking when she pulled me up. “Come on we need to get you into the bath.”

Undressing me while I was clinging to her probably wasn’t the easiest of tasks, but then again I was only wearing my bra and panties at the moment. She guided me to the tub and I stepped in, but I still didn’t want to let her go. Nikki compromised with me by holding my hand while I soaked.

As long as she was touching me I was okay, but the second she let go I was a mess again. Being pathetic isn’t normally in my emotional makeup. I’d grown up being reliant on one of two people: myself and Sarah. We were always there for one another when things got bad. When we were together, nothing stood in our way. Now, she was gone and I had to rely on other people, the Oshiro’s were those people.

As ridiculous as it sounded, Akio had saved me from the evil clutches of an insane doctor bent on achieving scientific immortality. He had also saved me from a lifetime of ‘well-meaning’ psychiatrists and medical experiments.

Nikki had saved me from either being kidnapped again or winding up with a severe case of death.

I owed them both so much and there I was being comforted, in the bathtub of all places. They had to be paid back. I knew how the world worked. Nobody does anything for nothing. Nikki openly admitted that she was guarding me so that she could make a name for herself with the Marshal’s service. What she said she was going to do, she did, nothing more nothing less. So my problem was, how did I pay them back?

They weren’t in need of money. I had no idea how wealthy they were, but if the mansion was any indication of their family wealth then they were packing some serious cash. The only thing I had left of any value was myself and what I could do for them. My talents? Well, obviously I’m good with languages, but I really couldn’t see how that would help them. I’d ask, but it was unlikely that would come in handy unless Akio was pressed into foreign service.

They could obviously take care of themselves; both were cops and well trained ones at that. So I can’t use my self defense knowledge in any way, even if I was to get the body I currently occupied into decent shape.

Sex was out. Although I was secure enough with my absent masculinity to recognize that Akio was very handsome for his age, I knew I wouldn’t be able to perform for any male. Even setting my male heterosexuality aside, I was a mess from the abuse I suffered at the hands of the evil doctor. The last three months of my existence in their care, was living with the knowledge that every time I woke up in the morning I could expect my bed to be occupied with a male.

They had successfully genetically transformed me into a girl with all the proper plumbing. They wanted to see if it worked properly by getting me pregnant. It had to be the old fashion way as well. Everything had to be perfect for them. So twenty-three days out of the month, for three months, I was raped twice a day. I think you might see the reason that I really don’t like men… except for Akio, and not in that way.

Now, Nikki, on the other hand.

“Ready to get out, Kai?”

I nodded and leaned forward to unplug the drain. She still held my hand throughout my rinsing and drying. Sometimes she would shift her hands to my shoulders so that I could put on my underwear.

No, I had no sense of embarrassment when it came to being nude in front of anyone. That was long since a subject of the distant past. It was just another state of being for me.

“Did you want to wear something nice, or maybe put some makeup one?”

I blinked at Nikki and decided that was one of the ways that I could pay her back. By not being a pain in her butt. So I nodded. Her hand slid down my arm and her fingers laced with mine. With a genuine smile to my shy return she led me to my closet and gave me a white sleeveless top to put on as she rested her hands on my hips.

Regardless of my ability of not being shy, the feeling of having Nikki standing in front of me in such a way was very intimate. She watched me with approval as I buttoned it up. The blouse was fairly form fitting, tucking in neatly at my trim waist and flaring out at the bottom to conform to my hips.

We returned to the bedroom and she withdrew a pair of red shorts. This time Nikki moved around behind me to rest her hand on the small of my back while I stepped into them. With a slight breath to steel my will I led the way over to the makeup table. The smile from Nikki was all the reward I needed to feel better.

“I forgot my chair. Will you be okay for a second while I get it?”

I swallowed and nodded, but when she stopped touching me, I started shaking again. I didn’t break down and cry or anything. My hands trembled which in turn led up my arms and down my back before she set the chair down next to mine and then placed her hands on my bare upper arms.

A rush of air exited my lungs. My voice shuttered when I apologized. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why…”

“Shh, I do.” She sat down, looking me seriously in the eye. “You’ve been through a serious trauma, Kai. You obviously feel safe with me when I touch you. I don’t consider giving you comfort to be an inconvenience.”

As she needed both hands to work, we faced each other in the chairs and she spread her legs for me to wiggle in between so that her inner thighs were brushing the outside of mine.

“It’ll be night time when we go out, so I’m going to darken your make up just a little. You’re wearing white so it doesn’t have to be too much in contrast, see?”

“Yeah.”

Posted in Uncategorized

Is it intellectual theft or just apathy? A warning to StorySite Authors.

23 Comments »

February 13th, 2010 Posted 00:42

I would really rethink any plans you have of posting to Crystal’s storysite or sending them money, well that is unless you really don’t care about theft of intellectual property anything to worry about. Read the following board statements to find out why.

Me:

Back in 2003 I asked to have my stories removed. The author’s page was taken down instead.

In 2004 I asked again.

It’s 2010. Seven years later. Still here.

This was asked in Email and on the board.

Removing the author pages does nothing, since the stories are still accessible. How do I know? I’m still getting hits and comments sent to me. Wow! What exactly does it take to have them removed? The, “I have to do this one thing (fix a server issue, fix a programming issue, wait for work to slow down, etc) and then I can get to it,” excuse has worn thin.

I’ve really tried to be nice about this. Several times. Please, for the last time, remove the stories.

After someone asked where I was posting I returned this.

Me:

All you have to do is go to the “search section of this site” and type in Heather Sinclair in the Google search and *poof* there they are.

That’s what has me so annoyed.

I’m writing under a different name now.

Crystal:

Or you could simply go to :

web.archive.org/web/*/htyp://storysite.org

and read all of the stories every posted on StorySite. Deleting them from StorySite’s database doesn’t delete them from the internet. Anything posted on the net is going to be around forver (or at least as ‘forver’ as we can imagine). However, when the core system work is done, any stories that don’t have an author page to ‘anchor’ them will disappear from StorySite. They will only live on in other archive sites after that time.

Me:

Whether or not an archive has the stories is not the issue. The issue is I requested that these stories be removed seven years ago and all I get is “They will be deleted when (insert excuse/problem/whatever)”

I’m sorry, but that’s not an acceptable excuse any longer. As we have been reminded time and again, for various reasons, you are working on coding the site and haven’t got an estimate when this will be done. So another seven years could go by and you’d still be within your self imposed non-existent time limit.

I think seven years is more than enough time to delete a handful of stories. I’ve asked nicely several times. I’m done doing that now. Remove the stories.

Someone that can’t spell very well:

: She has there well reamin as long as people have links to it form there sites

Me:

Nope, not true. Here is the link for a random story of mine.

storysite.org/story/residentshevil~01.html

That tells me that this story is accessible from storysite.org not a random archive site.

Crystal:

That’s an address, not a link.

Me:

It’s very nice to see that you are so glib about the authors that submit their stories to this site. So, let me see if I have this correct. Author’s submit their stories. You put these neat little copyright symbols on every story page, reinforcing that the story is theirs, then when they want you to stop showing their stories, you show them anyway?

If this was a single oversight I’d let it go, but I’ve contacted you a number of times over this and am always brushed aside with one excuse or another.

Your ethics really have slipped, Crystal. I had my doubts, but you’re proving me wrong. Nice.

So after this I can only conclude that Crystal does not take me seriously and is intentionally stealing my stories via apathy?  Are there any other conclusions that can be derived from this that I am missing?

Posted in Uncategorized

Stories update

22 Comments »

February 11th, 2010 Posted 13:42

Just so you’ll know where I’m sitting on various projects:

Sangria 5 – 5057 words of approx 12000

Do it Right 16 – 3098 words of approx 7000

Center 9 – 4544- words of approx 10000

Royalty 3 – 2011 words of approx 10000

Cho-Ri  3 – 5888 words of approx 10000

Untitled Twisted universe story-     27,347 words of approx 30000

By Fire and S.W.O.R.D. (BTVS story)  26,180 words of approx 50000

New story I talked about yesterday. – 4380 words of approx 10000 (I wrote the beginning so I wouldn’t lose the idea, so it will sit on hold, as is, for a while.)

Knowing Yourself Challenge with Teddi Aldonetti – 103,182 words out of ??? maybe 150,000 (Unknown at this time.)

I know you all have your favorites that I should complete first, but it will come when it comes.

Posted in Uncategorized

Whoops!

13 Comments »

February 10th, 2010 Posted 17:31

FM has been taken off line. The following is a note sent to someone on behalf of the TF.

No one has commented on that, but since this afternoon (CET) FM was
disconnected by the current provider. The notification note was sent a
minute before end of the providers office hours and so far no one has
responded on the question for the reason and the request of reconnection.

Whoops!

I swear I had nothing to do with it. Remember, I’m lazy. Doing something about it would require me not to be lazy. That just ain’t gonna happen. Perhaps someone was soured about how the pedo thing worked out on one side or the other.

Posted in Uncategorized

Men, Women… what’s the difference

6 Comments »

February 9th, 2010 Posted 16:44

Just a idea I thought of. I probably won’t be doing it, but I thought it was funny.

2465092169_fe9f441eca

“Hello, Nutrasystem? I want to lose some weight as fast as possible. Start me up on your best plan!”

Gemma_Atkinson_b71-76893911

One month later:

Dammit, I should of read the package! Nutrasystem for Women? There’s a difference?

Yeah, um, I got that from watching a commercial. Perhaps I should stop watching TV.

Posted in Uncategorized

And another site down the toilet…

8 Comments »

February 9th, 2010 Posted 14:31

Crystal has finally resurfaced and basically shot the finger at those people that actually had a conscious.

I paraphrase (visit the site if you want to read her diatribe)

“To those of you who object to pedo stories being on Crystals, adios, don’t let the door hit you on the ass as you leave. Nobody cares about your opinion or your morals and you will be forgotten in a short time, drifting off in the ether.”
Well you get your wish, Crystal. Adios.

By the way, Anyone that thinks that she’ll actually delete your stories are sadly mistaken. Back in “2003” when I was writing under a different name, I requested several times that she delete my stories. Wasn’t done, 2004 came along I requested again. 2005 came along and I requested again, this time with a Board post as well. I was ignored. Now it’s 2010 and they are still there. Crystal says that she’ll get to it when she’s able. LOL Whatever!  Seven years! and she still hasn’t gotten to it.

Adios indeed.

Posted in Uncategorized

Gah! Braincramp

4 Comments »

February 9th, 2010 Posted 13:10

I have had a two day ongoing migraine. It makes writing somewhat difficult, but I’ve still gotten 4000 words written, ha! Screw you Mr. Migraine!

Maybe it’s because I haven’t had any caffeine or energy drinks in more than 48 hours. That’s probably it.  Must… go… to… store…

Posted in Uncategorized

Deborah Ford’s “The Hotel Transform”

2 Comments »

February 7th, 2010 Posted 15:41

Deborah Ford has moved her stories from FM to this new link

http://blog.thehoteltransform.com/

I hope she does well.

Posted in Uncategorized

Another FM Update.

3 Comments »

February 6th, 2010 Posted 21:44

Another Update:

I did as I said I would and deleted my link to FM. But then I received an email to check out the board again for something I might find amusing.

It’s been bandied about that “Two” authors decided to leave about a week or so ago, I guess. It had been repeated a number of times. Only two authors over and over. Of course the more vocal of them Deborah, has been attacked for “attacking” the TF and insulting the sterling reputation of FM as of late. (This was all BS since Deborah just wanted her stories taken off. No insults were originally used.)

But now, BAMB! they are dropping like flies. People with a conscious are abandoning the floundering ship. Now it’s not just TWO but about seven or eight. (I didn’t actually count. Rough guesstiment.)

Do I think this is funny? Not particularly. It’s sad to see a, once award winning, site like this sink under its own pride. Do I think that FM will falter and sink into nothing. Nope. I think it will turn into a modern day “Nifty” where the worst of the worst go to post their unreadable masturbatory fantasies.

Oh Wait! Too late.

And a notice to Crystal. It’s already starting on your place too. Grab your scraper and get rid of the barnacles, girl, before it’s too late for you too.

I’ve been hearing so many calls out that say something along the lines of. “It’s fiction, not reality. Does this mean that we start ‘censoring’ stories with murders, bank robberies, etc. next?”

The slippery slope does not apply here.  It’s a matter of realistic association. Which would you rather be: the best selling author of the latest murder mystery or pedo writer? It’s a matter of WILLINGLY associating yourself with those that choose the latter. That’s why the authors are pulling out. That’s why FM is regarded in some circles as “The Sewage Plant”.

I posed a question for you last time, about justifying your association with potential child molesters. Here’s another.

Your babysitter, that takes care of your eight year old just found these stories online. How would you feel knowing that he/she reads these for entertainment?

It’s just fiction after all. I’m sure your child will be just fine in their hands.

Gah, no more. I’m done with this subject. If you change I’ll be the first to say bravo, if not…

No more clogging up valuable blog space with this subject.

Posted in Uncategorized

FM meltdown… again.

12 Comments »

February 2nd, 2010 Posted 21:46

Since I’ve already commented once on the child-porn stories at FM I thought I’d add another thought to the thread.

Another blow up — they seem to be increasing in frequency as of late — at FM over child rape (and the child like it, mind you) stories. There are those screaming FIRST AMENDMENT!!! (Even though the servers are supposed to be in Canada, no verification there so don’t take my word for it, and Canada, last time I looked wasn’t part of the US. Is it? AND written CP is against the law there. Imagine that!

Anyway long story short. Those of you that defend the decision to post this crap, ask yourself this question:

Would I like my parents, or children to know that I support stories that glorify the rape of small children? Imagine trying to explain that one to little eight year old Timmy after he was raped by his uncle. “Oh it’s okay Timmy. It’s our first amendment right to support this.” I’m sure that will make him feel a whole lot better.

The same could be said about TG fiction. While there would be an amount of embarrassment from being outted to whomever, I’d certainly pick dressing up in skirts to this CP sickness.

Posted in Uncategorized