Synopsis:

Stark's search for the legendary Medallion of Zulo leads her to a playground in a park, and a little girl who isn't -- or shouldn't be. It's rescue, not revenge this time for our heroine, but is she truly up to the task? And who's rescuing who, exactly?

Story:

Stark: Childhood's End
by Randalynn

"From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
ӬMy passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone."
- Edgar Allan Poe, "Alone"

"Childhood is frequently a solemn business
for those inside it." - George F. Will

The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the grass and trees were the self-satisfied green that only comes from a near golf-course level obsession with well-tended foliage.

Stark sat on a bench in a city park, watching happy smiling people doing whatever happy smiling people did in their spare time. A lot of it seemed to involve Frisbees, dogs, and long walks holding hands -- usually with members of the opposite sex. In her yellow and green backless sundress, Stark frowned and fidgeted, trying hard to be comfortable and failing, just as she always did in situations other people would classify as "normal." It made her sad inside, and with good reason.

Stark would never be normal again. She'd never be a part of this world full of happy families and everyday worries. Never have children, or a mate. In a way, she would always be alone.

Oh, she had Jeff, of course. He'd been her best friend for a long time -- all the way back to when she was a he, with a life and a job he loved. Now Jeff was her right-hand man, and all she had left from her past. She needed Jeff, and he was always there for her -- keeping her connected to her own humanity as she tried hard to stay sane and whole.

But I can never let myself get too close to him, she thought bitterly. Not if I want to stay ... me. Stark couldn't deny she was attracted to Jeff, maybe even loved him. He was a good man, the best she'd ever known. But she was constantly fighting the mental programming they used to change her into a submissive sex slave, and that made her relationship with him an emotional minefield. One night with Jeff could easily destroy her fragile grasp on the person she used to be -- the person she worked every waking minute to keep alive somewhere inside. If she ever gave in to her need for Jeff as a woman, the man Stark was once might be lost forever.

And she had her people -- former prisoners of the bitches who kidnapped and changed her. They were other kidnapped men, turned into feminized playthings and rescued from a living hell by Stark in a fit of homicidal rage. Now the ex-men were firmly dedicated to her mission. And to her.

But most of them saw her as some kind of savior. Many, she knew, would lay down their lives for her if only she would ask. And more than a few would throw themselves in front of a bullet for her without thinking twice.

She still didn't know how to feel about that. Currently, she wavered between slightly embarrassed and more than a little freaked out. They loved her and she loved them, it was true. But too many of them worshipped her as some kind of dark goddess. And many others feared her, remembering how she looked the night she killed the bitches who had done this to them all -- naked, crouched on that ballroom floor, out of her mind and covered with blood, knives at the ready.

Either way, it meant becoming closer to her people was ... difficult at best.

Not the time to think about this. She shook her head, sighed, and shifted uneasily on the bench. Alone is what you are. It's not going to change. Deal with it on your own time.

Stark crossed her legs and watched the children play. Or rather, she watched one pretty little blonde girl sitting by herself while everyone else played. The others talked and laughed, and chased each other through the jungle gyms and swing sets. The girl was almost grimly focused, her legs sticking out straight, staring down between her feet and drawing in the dirt with a stick. She couldn't have been more than five or six years old, but she was small, so it was hard to guess her age. Several of the other girls started running in her direction, then stopped. They whispered to each other and ran away, giggling. She didn't look up. She didn't look happy.

The other girls wore jeans or overalls with pastel-colored tee shirts. She wore a light blue play dress with matching panties, white socks with lace trim, and black Mary Janes. Stark was pretty sure she didn't choose her own outfit. The ever-present anger that kept her programming at bay roared in the back of her head, but for the first time in a long time, she ignored it. As well as anger had served her in the past, this was not the time or place to let it have its way.

This was a rescue, not revenge.

###

She looked around. The girl's nanny was nowhere to be seen. It was time. Stark rose gracefully from the bench and wandered across the grass in her high-heeled sandals. Even though the heels were wide, they still sank a bit in the moist earth and thick grass. Still, her whole body swayed seductively as she glided to the edge of the playground, and she noticed male heads turning to watch her progress.

She paused for a moment, then crouched down by the blonde girl, knees together. The girl kept drawing in the dirt, and Stark saw it was a pretty fair portrait of a man -- good enough for her to recognize the subject.

"Nice drawing," she said softly. "You're very talented."

"Thank you," the girl replied politely, if a bit distantly.

"That's you, isn't it?" Stark watched her intently, and saw her grimace.

"Not me," she said dully. "I'm a girl, silly. That's a grown-up man." Her voice became a growl. "NEVER be me." Savagely, she scratched it out and threw down the stick.

"I don't mean you now," Stark said, her voice soft and gentle. "I meant you before she betrayed you."

The little girl looked up, frightened, right into Stark's eyes. She saw only friendship and compassion. And a little sadness.

"Hello, Craig." Stark said, holding out her hand.

The girl looked away. "My name's Chrissy."

"Yes it is. Now. But you were Craig, once." Lowering her hand, Stark sat down on the ground next to the girl and tucked her legs under her. Chrissy wouldn't meet her eyes. "And your girlfriend's name was Crystal, right?"

The girl still said nothing, but Stark could see her trembling. She kept her voice soft. "You graduated from college, and managed a bar to make ends meet while you looked for a job as a graphic artist. She worked in management for a large chain of children's clothing stores. You had an argument because she wanted to accept a big promotion at work and move to another town, and you didn't.

"The next day you found this weird-looking medallion in an antique store. You bought it as a present to try and make things right with her. The old woman who sold it to you said it was the Medallion of Zulo. She told you it had magic powers -- that it could make you into someone else just by touching a piece of clothing. You thought it was a joke, until you made the mistake of touching something with it, and it changed you."

Chrissy looked back at the ground, and finally nodded. "It was a swimsuit," she said in a small voice. "A little girl's one-piece. Crystal bought it for her niece."

Stark nodded, even though the girl couldn't see her. "The medallion changed you into the little girl you needed to be for the suit to fit. At first you freaked, but then you realized you didn't have to worry. Everything would be okay. After all, according to the woman in the antique store, you'd only have to stay like that for twelve hours. Crystal would protect you. She loved you. She'd keep you safe until you could go back to being you."

Chrissy's shoulders started to shake, and Stark saw tears falling, staining the dirt at her feet.

"But it didn't work out that way, did it?" Stark whispered, wanting to reach out and not knowing how. "Crystal wanted that promotion. And I'm guessing she discovered that she liked dominating you. Controlling you. Treating you like a child. So she threw the Medallion away and forced you to become her daughter. She trapped you like this ... forever."

Without conscious thought, Stark's hand rested on Chrissy's shoulder and squeezed. The little girl looked up at Stark, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"She said she'd leave me behind, like this, unless I shut up and did whatever she said." Chrissy's tiny voice shook. "She didn't seem to care what she was doing was wrong. She stole my life!" Chrissy hurled herself into Stark's arms, still crying. Stark felt the small warm body against hers, and wrapped the girl in a tight hug that surprised them both.

Chrissy tried to talk through body-wracking sobs. "I loved her, and she did this to me. I was so small and weak, and scared all the time. Scared of her, and scared of what was happening to me. After a few days, I couldn't read or tell time. I started to lisp when I talked. And I had to sleep in diapers for a year until I could learn how to stop wetting while I slept. But that wasn't the worst part." She buried her face in Stark's shoulder.

"She sent me to daycare."

"At first, I thought it would be okay. I would meet new people, maybe find a friend. But the other kids stayed away. They knew I wasn't right somehow. The things they loved, I hated. I was terrible at being a little girl. I couldn't play dolls to save my life, or color, or jump rope. My heart just wasn't in it. I was still a grown-up inside. And I was always so sad. The ... other girls knew I was just no fun to be around. I needed someone so badly. Someone to talk to, who would like me, just for me. But I had no real friends, and no way to make them. I was just ... alone."

Chrissy had stopped crying, but made no move to break from Stark's hug. If anything, the girl hugged her harder. Stark stroked her hair and just held her, her heart reaching out to this abused man-girl. Compassion replaced the hate that kept her demons at bay, and her own tears welled up and slipped silently down her face.

"The more Crystal pushed the little girl stuff down my throat, the more it made me choke." Chrissy's voice, muffled against Stark's shoulder, held nothing but despair. "I had to be the perfect little girl for her, always. And I hated it. I hated her, so much. Once, I tried to reach out -- tried to tell her how I felt inside after what she did. She threw up my skirt, pulled down my panties and spanked me until my bottom ached. God, how it hurt. I cried for hours. When she was through, she sent me to bed without supper, and told me to forget the man I had been, or else. Whatever love I had left for her died that night, and took my hope with it." She snorted, half-laughing at herself. "That was two years ago, and nothing's changed. There was no hope, at least until I grew up enough to run away. I would always be alone."

Stark pulled back and looked into the girl's eyes, red and puffy from crying. "You aren't alone anymore. You'll never be alone again."

Chrissy looked up at her. "How do you know so much about me? Who ARE you?"

"I'm ... Stark," she said, suddenly realizing how cold her name sounded. She thought back to what Jeff called her -- the female version of her old male name. "My friends call me Jo."

There was a long silence. The little girl looked at her critically, and Stark found herself suddenly unsure.

"I'd ... like to be your friend," Stark replied "The friend you've been looking for. Somebody who knows how you feel."

"You?" She looked away, slightly angry. "A pretty woman like you? I saw you coming out of the corner of my eye. I saw how all those ... men looked at you. That smile on your face -- you liked it! They love you, and you like. How could you ever know how I feel?"

"Because I don't like it. And I wasn't born this way." Stark shivered, closing her eyes and hugging herself under her breasts. "I used to be a man, like you. A group of women grabbed me off a street corner in Baltimore and turned me into ... this. They did this to a lot of men -- twisted them in different ways, tortured them. Turned them into sick reflections of women. Played with their minds as well as their bodies. I can't turn off that damn smile unless I think about it hard -- they wanted the men who look at me to think I like it, but I don't. I hate it."

She turned her head away, tears falling on her breasts as she stared out over the park, lost in the past. "To them it was some kind of sick hobby, backed by a lot of money and a deep hatred of men, as men. But I ... stopped them. And helped free their other victims. Now everything they had is mine." Stark shook her head, and looked down at her feet. "For all the good it does me. I'm still trapped ... like this. Forever. Body and mind, I'll always be partly their puppet. Partly their slave."

Stark felt a tiny hand on her leg, and looked over to see Chrissy's worried face.

"I'm sorry, man," the little girl said, sounding so much like Stark imagined Craig used to sound. "That's rough."

Stark reached over and stroked the girl's hair again. "No worse than what happened to you, 'man.'" Chrissy smiled and looked away. "And it's not all bad. I've got a mission now."

"A ... mission?"

"I spend my time -- and their money -- helping men who have been tricked by women or betrayed by those they loved. Men forced into womanhood against their will."

It was Chrissy's turn to turn away. "How can you help me, Jo?" Her tiny voice quavered. "There's nothing you can do. I'm trapped, just like you are."

Stark turned Chrissy around gently.

"No, you're not," she said softly. "I can make it better, at least a little. I can take you away from her, and give you a home with people who know who you really are, and what happened to you. My people ... all of us ... we all know how you feel. We live with what happened to us every day. Trust comes hard to all of us now, but from our shared pain comes ... community."

Stark stopped, and realized for the first time what she herself had created from the ashes of the past. "I can give you a home, Craig. A family. My family. People you can trust to be there for you, to take care of you and keep you safe."

She took a deep breath. "I think I can also give you back what you lost, mentally. The people who changed me used technology to try and reprogram my mind, to make me into what they wanted me to be. Some of it stuck, but the worst of it failed, probably because deep down inside I'm just too much of a bitch to be totally trained." Chrissy looked shocked, then smiled. "But that same tech can be used to teach you everything the Medallion took away." Chrissy looked stunned, and Stark nodded. "You can be back at college level in a matter of weeks. The rest is just practice."

Chrissy turned away, thinking hard. Stark stood up and watched her. "It's too good to be true," she whispered.

Stark put a hand on her shoulder. "No, it's not," she whispered. "Fate's been kicking you around for two years now. Isn't it about time your luck changed?" Chrissy looked up at Stark with a small smile. Stark smiled back, then paused. "There's ... something else. Maybe ... just maybe, I can give you back your hope."

"How?"

"I've been tracking that damned piece of jewelry for about four months. That's how I found you. I've been following a trail that stretches back years through hundreds of lives destroyed in seventeen states. Some of what I figured out about your situation was guesswork, based on my own experiences with betrayal, and what I've learned about the medallion's history. The rest I confirmed with witnesses."

"But if I find the Medallion, I can change you back," Stark said firmly. "I can give you back the life she stole."

"No, you can't," the little girl replied, her lower lips trembling. "She threw all of my stuff away. I don't have any clothing left that will turn me back ... into me."

"You don't need any." Chrissy looked up, startled. Stark reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a picture. "Look at this. What do you see?"

"A little girl on a swing set. She looks happy. Why?"

"Because that's Crystal's niece," Stark said, taking back the picture. "I sent detectives to take her picture, and you don't look anything like her. That means she never wore the swimsuit you touched with the Medallion. It just turned you into the girl you might have been, not a copy of anyone else. That's how it works."

"So ..." Chrissy's eyes narrowed, then grew wide as she realized the truth. Stark nodded.

"Touching any piece of male clothing for someone in the right age range will turn you back into the man you were. My people, too. That's why I've been searching for it so hard."

Stark watched the hope come back to Chrissy's eyes. She gave her arm a little squeeze. "I can't promise we'll find it. It seems to have a way of disappearing after someone has used it. We've been chasing it for a while, and even though the trail is easy to follow sometimes, other times it falls off the map completely. But I've got a lot of cash and people to throw at the problem. We're searching antique stores, yard sales, flea markets -- any of the places it's shown up before. If we can find it, we will."

She came down to Chrissy's level once more. "There are other methods out there as well, if the stories are true. Other types of magic, for instance -- witchcraft, sorcery. Djinn, too. And if you can believe the tabloids, there's some alien technology that keeps popping up all over the world -- something called a Morphic Adaptation Unit. Supposedly, it can change you into whatever you imagine, but it stops working after a few days and you're stuck. Unfortunately, the government seems to be suppressing knowledge of its existence and grabbing every one of them it can find."

Chrissy gave her a look that seemed too wise for her years. "Do you really believe that?" she asked skeptically.

Stark shrugged, her breasts bouncing slightly in the sundress. "I don't know. But I have to keep an open mind. My people need their lives back. If I'm wrong, then searching for this stuff only wastes money, and I've got plenty to waste. Besides, we both know the Medallion is real. You're living proof. And if the Medallion is real, why not the MAU?"

Chrissy thought for a moment, then her eyes widened. "Hey! What about you? When we find the Medallion, you can use it too, right?"

Stark shuddered all over and closed her eyes. Chrissy watched her whole body shaking until she could get it under control. She reached out and touched Stark carefully.

"Jo? Are you okay?"

"I will be," Stark's voice shook, her eyes still shut tightly. "The ... bitches who did this to me ... they made sure I could never change back, or be changed back by anyone. I can't even think about it without getting sick." She took a few deep breaths. "I'll die if it happens. They made sure my brain would tell my body to just ... shut down if I tried to change anything they did to me physically. I can't stand living like this. But as horrible as this life is, I'm not ready to pull the plug just yet. I still have so much to do." She opened her eyes and smiled at Chrissy. "Like help you, for instance."

Chrissy smiled back, then her face darkened. "Crystal isn't going to just let me go."

Stark's smile changed, and there was something in her eyes that sent a shiver through the little girl's body. From caring to cold in an instant, Chrissy thought. Crystal is definitely out of her league.

"She will, if she knows what's good for her." Stark stood up, gave a big stretch, and held out a hand. "Let's go tell her the good news."

Chrissy hesitated for a second, then took her hand. Together, they started walking.

"Jo? Will you ... hurt her?" she asked in a curious tone, looking up at Stark as they moved across the park.

"Oh, yes," Stark replied easily. "Badly, and over a long period of time. Unless you tell me not to."

"If I said no, you wouldn't?"

"Only if you asked." Stark reached up and touched her earring twice. The headlights on a black BMW facing the park flashed twice in response. "You're the one she wronged. I won't hurt her if that's how you want it."

They walked hand in hand, silent for a moment. Stark looked down at her companion, and spoke again. "But you of all people know she needs to be punished for what she did to you, Chrissy. Otherwise she'll think she was right to do it." The little girl nodded solemnly. Stark nodded back, satisfied that she'd gotten through. "She's like a child, in a way," she went on, scanning the horizon as they left the park. "She really doesn't get what's right or wrong. Someone needs to spank her. Hard."

Chrissy stopped short, put her hands over her mouth and giggled. Stark turned and looked at the girl, confused.

"That's exactly what she needs," Chrissy squeaked through the laughter. "Let's give her a good hard spanking and send her to bed with no supper. Then we'll let her go in the morning." She thought for a minute more. "Ummmmm ... could we dress her up like a baby girl and leave her here in the park? Sort of ... poetic justice?"

Stark thought about it, and it was her turn to laugh -- something she hadn't done in a long time. It sounded almost musical. And it felt ... good.

"Is that all you want?" she asked seriously, her hand on Chrissy's shoulder. "After everything Crystal's done to you?"

Chrissy's eyes twinkled as she looked up at Stark. She nodded. "Yep. For me, it's enough. I may be a little girl now, but I'm twice the person she'll ever be. And I always will be. I can't sink down to her level. Besides, nothing I could do to her could ever match what she's done to me -- so why try?"

"That's true," Stark said with a little smile, starting off for the black BMW once more. "You're very generous towards someone you said you hated."

"I can afford to be," Chrissy replied, smiling back. "Being a little girl isn't looking so bad, now that I've got hope. And a family. And a friend." She squeezed Stark's hand, and to her surprise, Stark squeezed back.

Maybe I'm getting a little bit of my own hope back, she thought. I'm not burning with rage, but the programming's still at bay. Maybe I'm not as trapped as I thought I was. She squeezed Chrissy's hand again. And maybe... I'm not as alone as I thought, either.

Far behind her, she heard the sound of a woman calling.

"Chrissy! Chrissy!" The nanny's breathless voice chased them to the curb where Stark's car was waiting. Stark turned and watched the young woman running awkwardly across the park. She opened the car door and helped Chrissy into a car seat as the nanny stumbled to a stop, panting furiously, trying to catch her breath.

"You!" She pointed at Stark, anger making her hand shake. "Stop right there!"

Chrissy smiled. "It's okay, Linda. She's a friend ... of the family."

"Be quiet, Chrissy! I'm not speaking to you. Seen and not heard, remember?" She turned back to Stark. "Where do you think you're going?"

Stark looked at her. "We're going to go talk to Crystal," she said simply. "We've got a lot to talk about, don't we, hon?"

The nanny looked at Chrissy, and Chrissy nodded. "That's right, Linda. Jo's taking me home."

Stark smiled and closed the door.

"Yes," Stark said, almost happily. "I'm taking her ... home."

"Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts.
Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts.
Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me...
Anything can happen, child. Anything can be."
- Shel Silverstein

© 2005-2006 as a work in progress, all rights reserved. Posted with permission of the author.

Notes:

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