Gwen Brown's Stories

Beautiful young Khadija stood perfectly still behind the grilled screen on the balcony in the early morning Sun. The Sun filtered through her ash blonde hair, and filmy clothing, making her silhouette appear angelic. She could hear the melodic songs of birds outside as they chirped enchantingly in the lush green garden below. The garden its self was a contradiction when compared with the scene out side the walls of the Palace.

Over the wall, she could see no living thing as far as the eye could see in any direction. She did not move lest they become startled, stop singing, and fly away. The garden and birds were one of the few pleasures she was allowed to enjoy.
Not permitted to move outside the palace harem alone, she considered the birds’ one of her few actual pleasures.She let her mind wander as she stood watching the avarian comics below.

When she did go out, an escort was always with her and her wrists and ankles were confined by chains under her Burqua. It was never just her and her escort. There were always other women too.

She could now remember it all before she came to the middle of the desert. A little at a time, her memory had returned until she could recall everything. Her old life was nothing like this new one. The youthful appearing woman had not told anyone of the revisitation of her memory because she believed they would take her life.

Khadija believed herself to be a captive in the harem just to satisfy the lusts of some mad Arab, Prince Abdul Azis, who got his rocks off on perversion. Of course, she had never seen it but the way the other women were dressed and the way he looked, to her way of thinking, what else could be true?

While the idea of such a twisting of normalicy repulsed her, unfamiliar forces attracted her to him. She smirked secretly to herself as she visualized him; he was cute. She silently berated herself for even thinking that she could be attracted to a man. That would make her gay!

Thoughts of scandalization coursed through her mind as she thought about her attraction to him, causing her face to redden slightly. Even while she thought about how humiliated she was, her body was producing a thin film of lubrication at the opening to her new vagina. She wondered how her body could so shockingly betray her. As she had already done a hundred times in the past, she wondered what she had become.

All these feelings were so strange to her they threatened to rule her mind. Indeed, new thoughts were doing so but Khadija was so far in denial that she thought that she could lie to herself.

It was all so frightening and yet her life was an adventure that if she would just relax a little, she would be forced to admit she found rather agreeable.

It had taken her some months but her memory had returned in spite of the fact that she felt that her keepers thought there was no chance of that at all. Khadija knew that she must appear to remain the happy, carefree, and the somewhat dimwitted blonde that they made her become. Her captors had used some form of drugging or conditioning; she did not know exactly what they had done to her.

She did not know that her original captors used a demoniacal method of conditioning that rewarded incorrect answers with punishment among other things. The pleasures of a correct answer made her feel like a slut but she knew that resistance was not in her any more.

With deepening fright, she worried that her very life depended upon the success of her continued deception. The Prince and other wives must not know that she had recovered.
Khadija often had nightmares about them finding out about her trickery. So far no one had given any indication that they knew anything about her improved condition.

His; John Savage's troubles had started out, fairly innocently, months ago; or was it years? She couldn’t remember. In fact, she had not been a woman at all but a young male and a recent, college graduate named John Savage. His college major had been in business but his hobby had been computer hacking since he was big enough to reach the keyboard.

Sometimes people asked him why he had not majored in computer instead of business. He did not have a good answer for the question. He had begun to realize that he was far more talented with code than crafty business deals. His lack of the “killer instinct” to close deals eventually relegated him to a back water job sorting leads. He was very good at it and had written data bases to qualify and sort them much more efficiently than even the IT department.

John was always careful about what systems he broke into. He had a lot of fun breaking into his friend’s computers and leaving funny messages. He’d even gotten into the college computer system but to his knowledge no one ever caught him. He was always careful to leave things in the college system the way he found them since his morals prevented any other tampering.

He did do things like make his worst enemy 3’ tall in the record. Once, he published the phone number of an X girlfriend in the school paper, but she liked it. His worst offense in College was when he installed some code that made the Professor’s computers talk to them when they were inputting grades. That little modification, he left easy to locate and in a week or so, it had been taken out of the college system. He graduated with honors and a MS in Business a few weeks later and he thought the fun would be over.

After college he felt really fortunate to get a great entry level job in a company that was listed on the New York Stock Exchange. At first he did his work diligently, but after a year or so of pure boredom with the no brainer assignments they’d given him, his interest began to lapse. He was unwilling to accept that he had to pay his dues before any good work came along.

In his leisure time, which grew as time went on; he began to hack more and more. But, he had no idea that the computer system at the corporation was set up to be particularly sensitive to any prying or semblance there of. He had defeated all sorts of security protocols but this one was way out of his league, much to his later surprise.

Looking back John realized that he should have suspected something when he had gotten in so easily. The security was not set up to prevent break-ins but to quickly establish the identity of the intruder. Outside intruders were problematic since there was not a good way to establish anything but the location of the computer. The fools who broke in from inside the building had no idea about the tiny cameras in their monitors.

They must have caught him the first time that he cracked the door into the secret files. The ones that he was not supposed to know about. One boring afternoon, becoming braver, he uncovered a whole network of fraud and activities treasonous to America within the company and outside it. The amount of money involved was in the trillions and included theft, white slavery and terrorism.

John was not sure what to do with what he knew. He figured something would come to him with a little beer and Pizza to stimulate his mind.

It was the end of the day by the time he thought he had covered his tracks well enough to leave. He intended to pick up some videos, beer and pizza before he went home, it was Friday and he was looking forward to taking it easy. He wished that he had a girl friend to talk to about it but being painfully shy, he had not even had his first date until his junior year, in college and nothing really exciting came of that.

John was one of those short, slightly chubby men with a baby face. He shaved about once a week just to keep his own mind at ease. Even in childhood, his Step father and older siblings had called him sissy; the boys because of meanness but his sister did it out of affection for him. He didn’t mind it from his sister Gloria, but his brothers, Aven and Logan seemed to just hate him.

Even his step dad called him that and he later found out that he had told his brothers that he was going to “beat the woman out of him”. His mom felt deeply hurt for John and to all the others he seemed to be her favorite. Just as he graduated, his mom and step dad were killed in a plane crash while flying out to attend his college graduation. He went through the motions but after the ceremony, he spent almost two weeks in his apartment trying to sort his life out, before taking his present job.

When he got into his car John remembered smelling something pungent and that was the last thing he remembered until wakening as Khadija. Oh, there had been lots of horrible nightmares and wakening for short periods, screaming in terror but, as soon as they could, the nurses put him under again. As his memory returned, John was horribly traumatized to find that they had apparently transplanted a whole scalp onto his head. That along with several other surgical procedures and conditioning and John Savage was gone forever.
Her new locks were about butt length. At first she had no idea how to care for her gorgeous hair, but the other women of the harem quickly took care of that. The only problem is that once in a while her scalp would tingle, itch or burn until it almost drove her crazy. A little Vicoden did a barely passable job of easing the sensations.

She also realized that extensive changes to her facial structure and body had taken place. Her lips felt like a pair of inner tubes pinned to her face and her jaw felt as if it squeaked at times. They’d eased her forehead back since moving her eyes out was impractical. In the end, after she healed, she looked like a teenager and completely unrecognizable as John.

She also found that the surgeons had done a total female organ transplant, complete with cervix and ovaries. She even had her menses and Khadija was completely unprepared to deal with that. The medical procedure had been possible for years but no one ever did one because it seemed pointless. The Doctor seemed to have done some things just because he could.

He must have done something with her feet because she had a definite preference for at least three inch heels. She also suspected he’d done something to her knees because they were really wobbly. Running like she used to was now totally out of the question and now she ran like a woman who had never done anything but primp at the mirror.

At one point she thought that the pills she was taking were hormones but she soon realized that some must be to prevent her body from rejecting the implants. Even her breasts were authentic looking. They had transplanted female breast tissue into her breasts complete with the nipple structure she felt scandalized by them but later she realized they were to conceal the minor scaring around her areola. Someone had also ringed her nipples, pierced her ears several times and ringed her labia. As she thought about it, she fumed that the Doctor must have been a card carrying pervert.

John had never wakened again after that failed trip to get beer and pizza. Once the gangsters had him unconscious, they were going to kill him, but instead found a very eccentric surgeon who paid handsomely for him. Doctor Evil had John for almost a year before the Prince Abdul Azis and his people rescued him. They could have rescued John much sooner but the Prince had been given intelligence that his lab was heavily mined, so the Prince's men had to spend much more time on intelligence before a rescue effort could be mounted.

No one realized that Doctor Evil was turning him into a woman. The Prince Abdul Azis was so angry when his men informed him, that he let them completely destroy the clinic complex that Evil owned. The Doctor had already programmed her to believe her name was Khadija, and even conditioned her to be sensitive to the cultural customs for a woman in conservative middle eastern society.

Khadija came to Prince Abdul Azis’s palace while she was still incoherent from the conditioning Evil had been doing to her. Her recovery was slow and took weeks but eventually she was up and about. Khadija rediscovered her appetite; some of the Middle Eastern food was a real treat to her.

When the other women saw her nipple rings, everyone giggled and had to touch them, until Khadija put her foot down. Well, actually she just started bawling. Once they began to accept her as a person and woman and not some mindless toy, they really rallied around her and helped her regain her health.

There was poorly contained anger when they found the piercing below. It took bolt cutters to remove the ones through her labia. Everyone was so impressed with her other piercings that Khadija decided to leave them in. Nipple rings can be quite painful for a long time, but she decided to wait to see if the pain subsided.

Khadija discovered that she loved to play tricks on people and her sexual drives were mischevious and somewhat kinky.

The young woman had not known then that after her kidnapping, she had been interrogated to find how much she knew and then handed over to the lawless Doctor “E” who did lots of plastic surgery on those sought by the law to allow them to be on the streets.

So, Khadija was just another experiment to him. No, she would be the pinnacle of his work. He had completed all his modifications and she was in recovery when her rescuers arrived. He was extremely angry but in the face of real danger a complete coward. He disappeared through a door as they were wheeling the girl out, but the commandos felt sure that the explosion afterward had killed him.

It was Prince Abdul Azis’s intent not to bring anything about her past up until she was ready to ask questions. He had no idea that the past would frighten her so much.

The other women in the harem were stirring. She knew that breakfast would be cooked very soon, and it was not her day to help so she was in no hurry to get into the Kitchen. The young woman found that she liked to cook but so did the other women, so some of them got quite indignant if she went in there to work on her off days.

Today, she was supposed to be in the tubs soaking and caring for her nails, hair and complexion. One of the women, Enit seemed to be sort of the head wife and she actually got quite indignant, slapping the other members of the Harem if they did not take care of themselves or gained too much weight. Khadija wanted no part of that. So, after she tore herself away from the birds in the garden, she sauntered into the tub area to do her duty.

Khadija’s name was given to her by Prince Abdul, since he considered John to be inappropriate. She was now very compliant and took the name without complaint. The other women readily adopted it since it was the name of The Prophet Mohammad’s PBUH (peace be onto him) first wife, and very honorable. When they were told of Khadija’s story, they all seemed to draw her to their breasts in love and compassion.

Khadija had actually made some good friends and she was looking forward to her time with them. She wondered what they would be doing today. Mondays were usually shopping days. Khadija, much to her amazement had enjoyed shopping from the beginning. She enjoyed haggling with merchants and soon the other women saw Khadija as one of them. One of the merchants had even escorted her to the door and said to the male escort, “Here sir, I give you back your Bedouin Woman”. She did not know if that was a complement or not but she knew that she had gotten what she wanted at almost the price she wanted it for. Neither man had shown even a glimmer of a smile. The other women laughed hysterically when they heard what the merchant said.

Arabic was really hard for young Khadija but she was making progress. Still many of the Merchants knew English well enough.

As her memory returned, Khadija was surprised to have adapted so well to the huge change in her life. In spite of all that had happened to her, she really enjoyed her new existence. Her old life was gone but it meant a lot to her to be among friends who really seemed to care for her. Now that memory of her old life had returned, she realized that she had never had real friends before and the change felt wonderful.
The Prince and his house hold were devout Muslims and Khadija had decided to just go along with the practices to keep the peace. As she entered into the lounging area, the other women were filing into the women’s prayer area. They all lined up foot to foot and shoulder to shoulder. It began with Allahu Akbar…………. The prayers were somehow reassuring, though her belief in Allah extended only to the idea that someone had created everything.

Breakfast arrived and she sat down on a huge pile of pillows with her best friend Huda. She had been educated in the states as a Chemist but when she got home from the US, her father gave her to the royal Prince Azis. At first Huda said she was outraged, disappointed and depressed for quite awhile and realized that her role had been set for her since she was born.

Oh, she said she had heard things but never actually believed her father would do it. She said that she had given the Prince Abdul Azis a child last year and having the baby helped her so much that she came to accept her life quite well.

Prince Azis only had four wives so Huda got to see quite a lot of him. Huda knew that she could not be his favorite and sharing him with the rest the wives satisfied her well enough. Her child was a year old now and she and the baby went with the other women regularly on shopping trips.

Prince Abdul also allowed Huda and the other wives quite a lot of freedom to practice their interests, having built her a lab in the palace and allowing her contact with outsiders on the internet. Still the country being Islamic had many strict rules for what women were allowed to do.

Huda told Khadija that it grated on her but the Prince saw to it that she had as much freedom as she could safely enjoy. Abdul had seen to it that one of his cousins was available to accompany her when she went out on business.

One thing that seemed odd to Khadija was that some of the women seemed to be much more watchful and alert than her; never seeming to relax. There were other women in the Harem besides the Wives and Khadija had no idea that she knew little of the reality of her situation.

Prince Azis and his father had been clashing with the evil people who had infiltrated the corporation for a long time. Though it did not show to the casual observer, the palace was more of a fort than a summer home.

Khadija had no idea what so ever that Prince Azis’s father was the owner of the conglomerate where she had worked as a man.

After breakfast the women all got dressed in their Burquas. Khadija allowed her good friend Huda to put the chains on her ankles and wrists as part of an agreement that Huda had come to with the palace guards. The ankle chain was held up with a sash around her waist so it would not prevent her from walking in a suitably feminine manner. Khadija had thrown many tantrums about the issue, one getting her a humiliating spanking at the hands of Enid. She could not understand why she was the only one so confined. Khadija was careful to complain a lot in each time she was chained now, but she rebelliously did not want them to think they had won.

Huda was careful to let Khadija know that she did not wish to chain her. Slowly, over time Khadija began to act as if she had begun to accept the restraining chains. Khadija had no idea that the chains were for her protection and not confinement. If she could not wander off, she was easier to guard. The young woman had no idea that she was the object of an intense search by many evil men.

The women usually started shopping for clothing first and they got some great bargains. Their harem garments were always soft filmy and sexy attire that pleased Abdul. Outside the palace they all had to be covered in the Islamic tradition.

And when she noticed lots of women dressed in western attire in public, she complained bitterly. Huda told her that it was Prince Abdul’s desire for his wives to not look like western sluts. In the outdoors, the garments often became stifling but in most of the shopping centers there was air conditioning. Just before the women returned to the palace they would purchase their perishable groceries so they had less chance of spoiling due to the heat.

The days became months and months stretched first into a year and in the end two. By now the restrains were no longer used. Khadija had become very close to the other women and even Prince Abdul Azis. She knew not to wander off and stayed close to the other women since she had seen a woman kidnapped in the open market.

She had remembered all her college and computer expertise, and she and Huda spent a lot of time web surfing. When Khadija was alone, she continued subtly probing into the heinous activities she had discovered in New York. She was sure that Huda and the Prince Abdul Azis probably already knew. She never discussed it with either and felt that she must deny any accusations. Khadija had no idea how the Prince Azis would respond but she feared that he would kill or badly hurt her. She still had no idea that she was in the hands of the “good guys”.

The Prince had never made love to her and the young woman suspected that it was because they both knew that she was no real woman. Still the long hours of conversation and the internet research projects that he gave her really made up for a lot. On her sad days, Huda and the other women generously saw to her sadness and, gave her lots of affection. Khadija, in spite of the knowledge about herself knew that her thinking had changed profoundly since her abduction. She even found herself fantasizing about having her own baby; not suspecting that she really could.

One day Huda seemed disturbed and then Khadija was called to the Prince’s Chambers. He carefully began to ask her questions about her past. Khadija was at first terrified and shaking. She just knew that she would be murdered. She could not understand how it was that the Prince was so calm when she was so obviously terrified.

Khadija’s heart felt as if it had stopped when he said that his father was the president of Centurion Corporation, her old company, At this point Khadija fell to her knees and then face down in front of the Prince. While she and Huda were not subservient like some of the women, Khadija knew how to plead for her life. She was bawling as she begged him for mercy. “Oh please your highness, do not murder me. I have been silent and I will remain so for all of my life.” She said. She then began to weep piteously, thinking her life was forfeit.

Much to her astonishment, Prince Azis began to laugh. Khadija did not resist when he picked her up under her arms and laid her across his shoulder.
“My dear Khadija, you are in no danger at all from me. I am your Prince Abdul Azis, and guardian and I have more regard for you than you can imagine.” He said lovingly to her. He told Khadija how the last two years had been an elaborate masquerade to protect her. The president knew that you were smart to have discovered the evil in his business.

And, he knew that he needed to protect you for the future trial of the men, who were quite ruthless. Those who had done all this perversion in his Father’s company would pay eventually.

The Prince's father had not been able to spirit John away before the criminals had taken her. Still, he used his private funds to locate her and then asked his son to go in and extract her.

His Father had not been able to use any of the police agencies in either country, because he suspected that key members in those agencies were compromised and involved much more than anyone suspected. This whole matter was much more serious than Khadija could even begin to suspect.

Secretly, the Father and his son, Prince Azis, had finally found some non corrupt men in the American Defense Department and a few true followers of Allah SWT in his own country.

Prince Abdul continued to explain that high ranking men in both American parties and key men in his own country were involved in enough illicit activities that the Prince and his father felt that none of them could be trusted. And, who knows who else would be revealed when the whole money making scheme began to fall apart.

No one suspected that it was much more than money; rather being about world domination and unspeakable evil. Few men in the world knew of a secret international association whose members were so evil and satanic that it boggled the mind.

Huda, having been stationed by the door began to speak and told her that she was not really the one of the Prince Azis’s wives but that she was an employee of the President of Centurion. He’d secretly recruited her and several other people as his doubly private security force. Not even the security people of the corporation knew about her or the others.

Then Huda tenderly told Khadija, “I have grown to love you Khadija for your gentle, kind and spunky personality. To me you are no longer a project but a dear friend and I hope that you are still mine”.

At this Khadija was weeping openly and ran to Huda, hugging her as if she were the best thing in her life. Before they were finished the Prince Abdul Azis called Khadija back to his side; she did not see Huda depart.

By now, he was reclining on his couch. When she got to his side, he pointed to the floor beside him. Still not having digested it all, Khadija quickly knelt at his side. He looked at her red eyes and finally just pulled her to him and draped the terrified and unresisting Khadija upon his shoulder.

She had stopped weeping by now and was simply shaking like a leaf. Khadija had no questions at all because she was just so thankful that he was not going to murder her. Her relief was short lived because he went on to tell her that only his best and most loyal guards were allowed in this part of the palace. Prince Azis suspected that key people on his own staff would betray the secret if it became known to them. “So, just keep being who you have been, you are in great danger if you reveal your true past.” He said.

The young woman began to get control of her emotions and just softly hugged the Prince Azis. She felt drained and would have dozed had he not continued to talk about the plot. Besides, she rather liked to be held in his arms. Had she begun to love him?

Much later, Khadija wakened and realized that she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. The Prince Abdul Azis was dozing also but as she stirred, wakened also.
Khadija gasped in surprise when he told her that one of these trusted guards had almost been murdered just outside the door of the harem door last week. The guard had been seriously wounded but the intruder was now dead. Abdul said that their efforts to protect her had almost failed. That is why he felt he needed to tell her.

“Khadija my dear, I needed you to be aware and perhaps to help in your own protection. Have you ever handled a gun?” he said.

She replied that she had done some duck hunting with his brother and father when he was in high school. Khadija told Abdul, who she thought of as her master, that she did not know if she could shoot anyone now.

He told Khadija that he knew that her mind had been pacified, but that he was hoping that her friend Huda could help her overcome that. He then told the frightened woman that Huda had been her personal guard every since Khadija had come to the harem. Only three of the rest of the women there were actually his wives.

Khadija would learn later that Aisha was his true love and of the other two, one was her cousin, whose husband had died in an oil drilling accident. The other was the widow of one of his drivers. He had taken both of them in out of charity for them.

Khadija told him that she felt really guilty that Huda had endangered her own baby protecting her. He quickly informed her that the baby actually belonged to one of the other wives in the harem. As Khadija thought about it she realized that the way the children were passed around there, the deception would have been fairly easy. Khadija resolved to have a sincere conversation with Huda.

Khadija quickly was on her knees and front of the Prince Abdul Azis thanking him and his family for all their care. She did not feel like a slave any longer but was nearly overcome by gratitude. Americans might have seen this as demeaning but Khadija’s gratefulness and previous conditioning completely overwhelmed her sense of pride. The Prince encouraged her to come back and lay down by him and she was so exhausted emotionally that she was quickly sleeping.

When he was sure that Khadija was sleeping deeply, he rose and went to talk to the rest of his family and the other women.

In the morning, Khadija wakened in his huge luxurious bed beside him, sandwiched between his other wives. As her eyes opened she could see him gazing upon her. The look he was giving her thrilled Khadija and for a few moments she thought that there could be a future for them. Then, with sudden pain in her heart, Khadija realized that she could never be as a woman to this man.

“Khadija, darling what is bothering you? You wakened with such a heavenly smile and then it disappeared.” He said. “Oh my lord, I can never be your wife because I am not really a woman. I believe I think like one and sometimes my emotions rule me. I care for you wholly. I never want to leave your side but it can never be as I wish".

Prince Abdul did not miss the single tear that ran down her soft cheek. “A hope I have is to at least live by your side". She said.

The Prince allowed her to lay there with her thoughts but inside his head he was working something out. This woman did nothing wrong and many things right. He’d watched her for over two years now and she had never revealed any maleness at all. Something would need to be done to reassure her.

Later that day after breakfast and a conference with the family and some of his key guards, Huda took Khadija to a part of the palace that she had never visited. It was a Gym for hardcore exercise and combat. In another room was a pistol and small arms range. Khadija knew full well that she was out of shape and not strong.

She also knew that she did not have the coordination of an athlete; as a matter of fact, she never had that in the first place. In the coming weeks as much as could be changed about that would be. Huda would work Khadija so hard that she lay in bed at night exhausted and in pain.

Khadija had almost two months before another incident happened. They were at the market shopping and were almost ready to pick up the perishables when a car full of men sped around the corner and began shooting. Only Khadija dropped to the ground while the other women began shooting after they flipped their Burquas up. The incident was quickly over because the men had obviously not expected Burqua clad women to defend them selves.
The two male escorts were even more lethal with weapons and one of them used an M-203 grenade launcher and managed to turn the car into a funeral pyre for the assailants.

Khadija felt humiliated when she saw what the other women had done. Huda was quick to comfort her and Khadija felt so ashamed at her cowardice that she vowed to herself that it would be far different next time. Khadija remembered that as a boy she had been rather expert with a shotgun.
As she got to her feet, Khadija realized that two of the other women, one a royal wife, had been wounded, one in the shoulder and the other in the abdomen. Their attackers all lay dead in their burning car.

They all bundled into the Limousines and rushed back to the Palace. The wound on one of the women was just a flesh wound on the hip and the other was a clean hole through her shoulder. Both would recover.

Khadija could now hear shooting in the streets fairly regularly. This made her feel uneasy because she strongly suspected that the shooting was related to her. The palace and the areas surrounding it had been quite tranquil in that nearly three years that Khadija had been living in the palace.

One morning when she and the other women were just awakening, she could hear running and shouting in the halls. It took only moments for her and Huda to arm them selves and shortly the other women had stationed themselves at the windows. Three of the women had the babies in a more secure room.

The Prince Abdul Azis had made it a rule, long before Khadija had arrived that the door would always be barred in the event of something happening. Things seem to quiet down in the streets around the palace for a while and then there was a quiet knocking on the door of the harem. It was the Prince and several of his guards. They all stepped quietly through the door and secured it again. With the presence of other males in the room, the women quickly donned Hijabs.

The only sound they could hear was the mid day call to prayer echoing through the streets. The women were all sitting around after prayer, some talking quietly while others watched the street. Several of the women trained their guns on the door while one of them opened the door a small crack. It was a messenger and after talking to the prince, he left. The Prince quickly gave instructions to pack lightly but to bring the children and their things. He said that there were rumors that the Russian mafia had smuggled a nuclear weapon into the port, about twenty miles away, and then the police had lost track of it.

Two buses were waiting at the front entrance to the palace but instead of getting on them, they all clambered into the middle truck of a several military truck convoy. They were armed with heavy weapons on the cab and at the rear. Huda handed Khadija a semi automatic grenade launcher, but she declined it in favor of the shot gun she had hidden beneath her Burqua.

Huda quickly informed Khadija that she was not supposed to allow any one to get that close. Huda glared at Khadija for a moment and then laid the weapon at Khadija’s side. Khadija was close enough to Huda to know what the glare meant. Without further conflict, Khadija stashed the shotgun in her sash and picked up the grenade gun. It was quite heavy but carried 15 rounds in one clip. She had fired the weapon quite a lot but still liked the shot gun better.

Khadija looked in Huda’s direction and could see that she was scanning the streets as they drove. In a moment of inexplicable emotion, Khadija quickly made a face and put her tongue out at Huda. Much to her astonishment Huda turned in her direction and in a mock sign of anger waved her finger at Khadija. Both women and those who had been watching the exchange broke into a fit of giggling. One of the male guards, a devout Muslim, looked at them and muttered something. That initiated another round of giggles until they could see that the guard was really getting nervous for them. The women resumed their tense, quiet vigil, stifling any further mirth.

As Khadija had embraced Islam more, she understood why the guards would answer questions, but never did small talk.

She quickly learned to always wear her Hijab when strangers or men not of the Prince Abdul Azis’s family were present. She felt like they sometimes treated the women as subordinates, though Huda and another woman brooked no nonsense from them. The men took every precaution to make sure that Khadija did exactly what she was told but she sensed more regard for her safety than their being overbearing.

As the convoy rumbled down a short street and out into the desert, Khadija could see the buses driving along the freeway and heading away from the palace. They could see explosions in the area of the Palace and then some cars seemed to be chasing the busses while firing weapons at them. If the buses were hit, they could see no sign of it. The buses had crossed a bridge and were on the other side of the muddy, shallow river. The fighting was quite furious, when suddenly both vehicles pursuing the busses exploded after a huge puff of smoke from the back of one of the vehicles.

After this short pitched battle, both the buses and the trucks continued along on the opposite sides of the river but within sight of each other. As they drew away from civilization, the trucks turned toward the river and forded it. Soon the trucks were nestled between the buses, while they continued down the road toward the Airport, according to Huda.

If anything else happened while they were traveling the women did not know about it. Once, several lethal looking fighter jets flew over at low level and out of sight. They had no way to see or hear the US Navy P-2 overhead in the distance. Khadija thought she had seen US markings on the Jets but being unfamiliar with military aircraft, was not sure.

They had no way to know that only certain military forces were involved and that the governments of both the US and the Prince Abdul Azis’s country were certainly in the dark about the events. The only one in the US to know about it was a rather precocious Navy rear admiral. He reported directly to the only civilian to know and he was retired Navy.

Khadija had no idea at all how far they had traveled on the dusty desert track. They had long ago bypassed the airport and since Khadija did not even know where she was she was completely clueless about the destination.

Some time in the middle of the night, Khadija and many of the other women were wakened by a huge blinding flash and later a distant rumble. Some of the Women began to wail in grief as the convoy rumbled along as fast as the vehicles would go.

A few minutes later, they were informed that the palace was gone. Huda said that she thought the loyal people had probably gotten out. If that were so, Khadija wondered why Huda looked so sad.

Twice, the jets swept over them, very low and there were explosions in the distance behind the little train of vehicles. The caravan traveled for most of the night, when it suddenly stopped. Huda and Khadija had been leaning against each other dozing but wakened by the sudden change in the noise level.

Some soldiers helped the women get out of the back of the trucks. They had stopped on a bluff overlooking water but Khadija had no idea if the water was a sea or a lake. The sky was just a becoming brighter in the false Dawn.

In the quiet Khadija could hear a distant motor, and soon she could tell this sound was that of the boat. She still had her shotgun under her outer clothing with the heavy grenade gun in her arms. As she looked around, she could see that everyone else including the women had gotten rid of their tribal clothing. The women were wearing pants and shirts. “Huda, why didn’t you tell me I could wear western clothing?” Khadija said.
Huda said that she did not know that she had not known. The smirk on Huda’s face made it obvious that she was lying.

“Oh, great so here I get to run around in a tent or half naked”, Khadija fumed.
“Oh but you look so charming in that little tent”, Huda murmured quietly to her and seeming entirely unrepentant. It seemed as if Khadija was more closely guarded than Prince Abdul. Khadija felt extremely petulant but knew that she could do nothing to change her situation. With a soft giggle, Khadija accepted that she was cared for.

That is easy for you to say the young woman stormed. But she also knew that she was not getting anywhere with Huda. She decided that they wanted her covered for some reason.

Khadija quickly got over it because a boat with a big square bow hand landed and the front of it was folding out. The Marines who stormed out quickly surrounded them but their guns were pointed toward the desert not toward them. Suddenly an explosion demolished the lead bus and everyone fell to the ground. Khadija could hear small arms fire and more explosions just as it was getting light. She could see something moving in the rocks a long way off and told Huda, who quickly told her guards and the American Soldiers.

They quickly began to fire on the distant shapes and the attackers dropped out of sight. By now Khadija was getting angry and no longer paralyzingly afraid. They kept asking where Khadija had seen the movement and she kept trying to explain.

Incoming small arms fire and then mortar rounds began to impact all around them frightening all the children. They began to wail and scream piteously and this was really making Khadija enraged.

Finally she yelled to Huda, “Here is where they are”, and began firing her grenade launcher a round at a time. The first rounds were too short but it still gave the soldiers an idea as Khadija continued to walk her grenades right up to the spot. Suddenly, Khadija heard the ear splitting thrumming of the 50 caliber Machine guns open up. Much to her surprise, the area she had been lightly seeding with grenades began to bounce like sand in a sifter. She had not seen two soldiers take off toward the activity but at an angle away from the site. As the dust began to settle two Jets made a truly deafening pass over the convoy and suddenly that area ahead of them erupted in a huge explosion and flames so hot that Khadija could feel the heat from them. Several evil looking helicopters swooped in firing their guns with a sickening buzzing sound that made the ground in front of them erupt in dust and flying rocks.

In the midst of all this, the American Marines began herding the refugees into the landing craft. Khadija and Huda refused to move until it was clear that the others were on their way to safety. Khadija had continued to fire the grenade launcher until it was empty and then kept pulling the trigger even though nothing was happening. She had a haunted look in her eyes and Huda could not get her attention.

Finally, one of the marines reached out and pulled the launcher from her hands, only to turn and find him self looking down the barrel of the shot gun. The Marine just stood still while Huda kept calling to her. Finally, Khadija’s eyes seemed to clear and Huda gently grasped the shot gun while whispering in Khadija’s ear that it was OK now.

Khadija suddenly just dropped the shotgun into the dirt barrel down. It was a wonder it did not go off. She turned to Huda and in deep gasping sobs began to say, “Sorry, sorry, sorry” over again and again. The marine that she’d been pointing the shotgun at; picked Khadija up in his huge strong arms and Khadija simply collapsed against the hard muscles of this broad shoulder. His sweaty scent smelled comforting to her.

Even as the boat was carrying them down the river and out to sea, there was still firing. The helicopters continued to flank them all the way back to the ship, a huge flat topped ship that she would later find out was a Helicopter carrier. Even the sound of deck operations could not keep Khadija awake when one of the ship’s medics injected her with a powerful sedative.

Khadija dreamed about swimming to the surface of water from deep below and then slowly realized that she was awake. The stark surroundings of a ship’s hospital was no place to waken a frightened woman and she screamed at first, then calmed herself.

That of course brought everyone running but they were behind Huda who rushed up and knelt down to hug her and comfort her. Khadija was going to start wearing western clothing like the other women but found she felt too insecure to do that. Even the other women, who were wearing pants and shirts, still wore at least a Hijab. They seemed uneasy around that many men too.
When Huda saw that Khadija was going to rise, she quietly asked Khadija to keep her face veiled but said she did not need to Burqua. She felt much better behind the veil, knowing that it was concealing her identity. Some of the other women also wore the Niqab.
The women began to adapt to the cramped life aboard the ship. A company of the Marines were moved out of their quarters and put in a tent on the hangar deck. They did not complain and remained very protective of Prince Abdul Azis and his women.

One morning as she was walking on the flight deck, she noticed one of the marines watching her and something made her feel as if she knew him. Khadija walked up to him and shyly asked him if she knew him. She was careful to not engage his eyes according to custom. He told her that he was the Marine that had carried her off the beach. Then he jokingly told her that he wondered if she pointed a shot gun at every man she met.

The young woman was really shocked by his remark but as he grinned at her, she realized that she actually had done it.

Not yet realizing that the big Marine was flirting with her, he told her that he would have been glad to hug her even without the shot gun. By now Khadija was embarrassed, having never been exposed to such a well muscled and trim looking man who spoke so openly to her. Worst yet, her body was making her feel like a wanton tramp. The feelings were almost overpowering to Khadija, and she quickly retreated back to her quarters after mumbling thanks to him through lips that longed for a kiss and using a tongue that acted like she had never used it before. As she scurried below, she could hear the big marine laughing.

Desert Princess 2

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Khadija adapts to her new life, and finds love along the way.

The Prince, his wives and companions, now on a US Navy Carrier at sea, fled for their lives as he and his father’s forces worked to defeat the evil men who had infiltrated society. They were now involved in perhaps the biggest war in human history. It was not fought with armies but by computers, and by men who controlled huge amounts of money. Khadija, now free to explore, has her own unique way of attracting unwanted attention.

Below deck in their quarters, Khadija ran into Huda’s arms and began to weep. “I don’t know how to be now. I don’t know how to act around men! I don’t know how to be! It all feels so strange and now that I remember life in the US and am trying to balance that with my new life, it just feels like too much to bear.” Khadija said between bouts of sobbing.

“Khadija, Khadija, what is the matter with you? Calm down sister. Tell me what it is? Huda was holding Khadija like a dear sister and smoothing her hair as she talked softly to her.

“There was a man out there! He talked to me! I did not know what to do and then he made fun of me. He is the one I was going to shoot, and he is the one who carried me off the beach. My body is telling me strange things. Oh, Huda, it is just awful!” Khadija gasped out between sobs. “I used to be a man and now, well, now being held by one excites me! What am I going to do?” Khadija wailed piteously.

While in a sense, what poor Khadija was saying was funny, it was tragic too. Huda did not feel like laughing at her.

Huda was deep in thought as she held the young woman who used to be a man. She wondered how she would adapt to the changes that had been pushed upon him without his even knowing about it. She’d seen the records and talked to some of her captors. They were Wahhabbi extremists who perverted the Jihad, defiling it before Allah swt.
To Huda, Islam was the belief that her own gentle father had introduced her to. He was different than the Wahhabbi; being gentle and equitable to both his sons and daughters. Both of her parents had been killed by extremist’s right in Riyadh, on the way to the Mall.

Huda had stayed on in Riyadh until her youngest sister was ready for college, and then she had tucked her away at a college in Michigan, USA so that she could pursue her dreams like she knew her father would have wanted. Hala, the youngest was in Pre-med in California now.

She thought about her siblings, two brothers, one an engineer, and the other who farmed back in Saudi. Her older sister, married to a Saudi who worked for the 5th richest man in the world, a moderate Muslim. He’d even banned the use of the Hijab in his building; saying it prevented his workers from achieving their full potential. Mala was as domestic as anyone Huda had ever met. The idea made Huda almost giggle for a moment. She could not understand how Mala was so content at home with their 4 children, unable to drive a car, and having to traipse about in that awful Burqua in the heat. Her husband, Akmed, had been educated at a university in an American state called Oregon.
Huda comforted herself in the knowledge that she fought so that all her siblings could live life as they chose, even Mala. Huda had patiently allowed Khadija to cry herself out, while she was lost in thought.

“Habibi (my beloved), I know this is all very difficult for you. We all know about how you suffered at the hands of men who only wanted to hurt you.” We know that they were going to kill you when they finished their experiments. Khadija, you must get well. Your only revenge will be living happily when those evil Jinn (Arabic for daemons) tried to ruin your life.” Huda said with more emotion than she intended.

Huda sat calmly with her until Khadija dozed off. She then wriggled out from under her and covered her in soft blankets.

Later, most of the women including Khadija and Huda, sat in their bunks; all listening to Khadija share her feelings. To Khadija, all this helped her to begin to feel better about her life. Cocooned in the Harem, Khadija had not truly dealt with being a woman and her own sexuality. She’d just been able to relate to the others like sisters and she supposed that she related to the Prince as a Daughter or perhaps a slave.
“I know I am an American but since all this happened; I don’t feel like one any more. The last thing I remember is going to get some Pizza so I could think about what I knew.” Khadija said. “I don’t even remember my old name. All I know is that I am now named Khadija.” She finished.

“Darling Khadija,” The Prince said.

Khadija had not seen him come in and fell to the floor on her knees. Khadija turned to look at the Prince. “Master, I had not heard you come in.”
He mused that Khadija seemed to have regressed significantly since the escape. She’d been doing so well.

The Prince bent over and pulled her up to stand in front of him. “I gave you your new name because Khadija was Mohammad’s first wife. It was she who made him what he was. I have talked with Doctors about you, and they are surprised that you survived as well as you did. One told me that people subjected to less than you often develop what is called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It is difficult to heal, but I and my family have become extremely fond of you. It has taken months for you to stop being a complete slave and nearly a zombie. As Huda told you earlier, your best revenge is to live a happy life. You asked for none of this and the evil vermin that infect my father’s company meant to harm you. Do not allow them to win, dear Khadija.” He said.

“Khadija, do you hear anyone else call me Master? I am your protector and you are my ward until you are well enough to start a new life of your own. Please address me as Abdul. You are special to me. I know that you were conditioned to do many things by Dr Evil and I find your addressing me as “Master” to be the most offensive thing they did to your mind. Do you understand me?” He said. “Does any other of you women wish to call me Master?”

His question was greeted with a gale of happy laughter and a storm of thrown pillows. It was readily apparent to Khadija that no one in the room feared dear Abdul.

Khadija just could not deal with this. The men had punished her so much for even the tiniest infraction. They’d shocked her and beat her until her mind was but a blank slate. Her whole past seemed like a disjointed nightmare. She remembered waking up to the smell of ozone; her body soiled with her own excretions, and her flesh smelling like a rotten dish rag. They never allowed her to have a normal bath or shower. It was always accompanied by bodily violations, alternately hot then icy water. Now, the prince who she had so feared is telling her to break all the conditioning that had been taught with such abominable cruelty?

She’d now been with the prince nearly three years, and still she constantly disassociated, and the paranoia sometimes seemed worse than when the prince’s men had finally broken into the complex where they had her. They did not even know about Khadija. She was just one of the captives who were subject to the experiments of the evil Doctor.

Sadly, they did not get the evil Doctor, but the complex was now just sand and broken concrete. They’d even used ground penetrating Radar, and other equipment usually used to find oil to search for the route that the evil one had used to escape.
The prince stood there waiting for her to move back into her own head.

“Oh, yes Mas…..er sir, I mean Abdul” she finished timidly.

“Well, that is better; inshallah you will learn as time goes on.”

“Yes Abdul, I will try very hard, though sometimes it is really hard for me to think clearly and it is doubly hard to go against what they taught me, Abdul”, She finished after some hesitation on his name.

The prince said, “I know that there are some evil men who would have their women being slaves but that is not the true way of Islam. There are some of us who strive to be as Allah made us. Do you hear any of the other women who are afraid of me?” You were captive of men who still adhere to the old tribal ways. Were it up to them, there would be no joy in my family.

She stepped over to Abdul and looking up into his face, said “Thank you”. She looked like a deer in the headlights, so he reached out, pulling her into her arms and tipped her back dramatically, kissing her romantically. The other women there giggled and made the trilling noise common to Arab women. When he finished, the young woman looked at him wide eyed, feeling her face. “Oh my” and then she promptly plopped on her back side as if in shock. Khadija sat there, fingertips feeling her overheated cheeks.

He walked out of the compartment roaring in laughter. Khadija’s other “sisters” were kinder but they laughed too. The grim look on her face signaled a tickle fest and pillow fight. There was so much laughing and screaming that the Marines outside began to get uneasy.

“Don’t worry men; my wives are treating one who has suffered too much.” He said. With that he walked off down the passage way laughing.

In the next weeks, she kept close to the other women and no longer felt like going anywhere on the ship alone. Oh, she trusted the men on the ship, but she just felt as if she needed a chaperone. After all it was only proper for a Muslima to be chaste and modest, though she had not actually thought about if she was a Muslim or not.

Talking to Huda later, “I am beginning to understand some things.” Rephrasing, “Actually, I can not understand but I feel more secure as Abdul’s slave and I came to see the chains that you put on me as a gesture of protection, and they made me feel secure. I do not even object to the Burqua any more because I feel protected and secure wearing it.”
“Khadija, you have been through just so much, it is a wonder that you survived. In the time before we fled his kingdom, you had grown to seem happy and secure. Now you act like a slave again.” She said. “Please do not allow evil to triumph over you. I know that you are more than you appear.”

Khadija realized that she had somehow become attached to the prince, his wives and his people that she felt she belonged with them. No one however pressured her to take the oath called the Shahadda.

The nuclear powered vessel seemed to be almost stopped in the ocean, far from any land but the captain had told them that they had been cruising at 15 kts since leaving the Middle East. The weather was much cooler now and it was not until they passed a tiny smoking island that someone told her they were near New Zealand. They paused in that area to rendezvous with a tanker that filled them with Jet fuel and replenished their food.
While Khadija’s life came to feel about as normal as it could be under the circumstances, she was entirely unaware of the happenings in the rest of the world. The King’s forces in his country had continued to fight a pitched battle with Mafia and Wahhabbi extremists who were much more sophisticated than the usual radicals he had coped with for years. The British Navy had happily volunteered to blockade his country’s single port, searching every vessel.

But when the Mafia was sure that Khadija was not there, the pressure was suddenly off while they tried to find her elsewhere. Through various leaks and the illicit use of Satellites, the criminals eventually found a task group with out a carrier and then they found a lone carrier near the Antarctic. At first, they tried to use a small business Jet against the carrier, and when that occurred, it was shot down by fighters. One of the fighters was destroyed in the explosion and the fighter that returned to the ship had a lot of damage, so the pilot ejected. There were rumors that the Business Jet had a nuclear weapon aboard. It was to have been a suicide mission.

The Captain of the carrier abandoned cruising alone and rejoined the task group. About a month and several more unsuccessful attacks on the carrier, it slowly moved up to the dock at Norfolk.
In the mean time, the governor of Texas had tried to mobilize the National Guard to prevent his own arrest on charges and the Governor of Florida was captured trying to flee to Brazil. It was decided to make the old Fort Sill, a confinement base for those arrested since the number was in the thousands. Many of those arrested were from oil magnate families. It included the President and the Vice President, 80 Senators, and a few hundred other legislators from DC. In the end no state was untouched. Many corporations were soon in the hands of stock holders. There had been lots of revolutionary fighting, and it eventually came to the Navy and Marines against the Army. The Air force just seemed to be out of the loop. The same was true in many areas of the world. When the rest of the world had seen what was happening in the USA, it encouraged those in several other countries to have bloody uprisings. You’d have thought that rival countries to the US would have fed on the apparent weakness and attacked but astonishingly China let it be known that anyone with such ideas would have them to deal with. Some said that China was far too fond of the American dollar to allow the US to crash. Russia later fell into line with China. Pres. Putin decided that this was a prime time to deal with corruption in his country. The Stock market had shut down and would not reopen for almost a month. Then it was rigidly supervised.

After nearly three years of unrest, military law, and fighting, the battle for the world was at a stand still. The worst of the worst were now confined at Ft Sill. There was much clamoring for the release of the darlings of the differing world factions.

The world was a crazy place, but that did not stop the Prince, who had been staying at Camp David, from having a new Palace built.
The Prince put Khadija to work with computers and this was the best thing he could have done. She was now doing something at which she was very good. Khadija’s work quickly isolated extremist activity on the Internet, and later began to make life miserable for them. A few months doing something that she had developed a gift for was actually the best therapy for her.

At dawn, early in the fall of 2019, a lone, solar powered drone climbed the skies over Lawton, Oklahoma. It was unseen by the eye, undetectable by radar.
Observers in the area later said that there was a sudden blinding flash, a huge fire ball, and then the shock wave that spread out from Ft Sill, for miles in all directions. There would be no more clamoring for the release of people who lived no more.
The same thing had happened in a dozen different places in the world. It was like the fabled assassination of the American president Kennedy. No one ever knew for certain whom it was.

Abdul had enlisted the aid of a psychological team and the first thing they wanted to do was put Khadija on several different medications to control her nightmares and depression, but she refused to take them.
She had more confidence now than before. “Abdul, please send them away, I won’t be half out of my mind to make them happy.” Deep in concentration, he had a frown when he looks up at Khadija.
The confident look on her face disappeared. “Oh, M…Abdul, I am sorry, I didn’t mean to make you angry with me.”
Abdul could tell that she still was not as strong as she sometimes looked.
Smiling, he said, “Amira (Princess) Khadija, please come here.” When she hesitantly came to stand at his side, he simply swept her onto his lap, and leaned back. “I am surprised at you Habibi. When are you going to get angry at the bad guys? It took indomitable spirit to even survive those months. I promise that I will never hurt you on purpose. I will certainly never strike you.”

The King had decided to retire and put his son, Prince Ahmad in office. And there was a special wedding. With the joyous approval of his other two wives, Khadija had been asked to marry the new King. It is hard to know who was most happy since everyone had tears in their eyes. Even the Muslim leaders had decided to lighten up a little and the wedding was a combination of Islamic and western traditions. It is rumored that the Islamic leaders had feared a full scale revolt if they did not embrace the sweet heart of the country, Khadija.
Indeed, one of the radical Imams had been stoned to death by his own countrymen. Only about a dozen people in the world knew of her origin, and Huda along with the other wives had grilled, drilled and trained Khadija until she could no longer even begin to recall how to strut like a guy.
“Khadija, are you sure you wish to be a Muslima?” Abdul asked her. “Oh yes, Abdul I certainly do. You are all my family now. I have no one else. Some of the others have given me instruction on Islam and I want to embrace it.” Huda had been a long time Muslima but had the support of her father in her unladylike behavior.
The saying of the Shahadda by Khadija was well attended and while she wept well and truly, she was actually very happy. (Her independent mind and intellect refused to accept everything with out reservation) This was a new life for her. She’d talked enough with Abdul to know that he did not blindly accept what was not reasonable to him. Had the conservatives known what he believed, they’d have been frothing at the mouth.
The wedding occurred with Khadija uncovered but once the vows were taken, she happily went behind the Niqab to return to the new Palace. It had been built in a valley at 7400 ft up in the mountains not too far from Sania, a very historic place.
That night only the chirping insects could hear what happened in the King’s chambers. Needless to say, Khadija was happy to consummate the marriage in the traditional manner.
A few months after the wedding, Prince Ahmad, took all his wives to Hawaii. Khadija had that certain glow. Her expression made her look like the cat that ate the canary. Khadija was the most reluctant to wear western clothing. Huda sat down with her and explained that Arab clothing would only draw attention, but she steadfastly refused until she went to talk with Ahmad. He assured her several times that he wished her to obey him because he bore the responsibility for her protection. “Yes Master”, she said. As she turned to leave, a hard swat on the behind made her whoop scandalously. But, she had a mischievous grin on her face as she ran from his quarters giggling like a school girl.
Later, Khadija emerged somewhat self-consciously wearing a one piece suit with a tiny skirt. Huda and Khadija walked down to the sea behind all the other women, one of the wives streaked past wearing a scandalous Brazilian bikini on. “Look at Sasha, Ahmad will certainly punish her for dressing like a slut,” Khadija said.
“She is used to being Ahmad’s favorite and since the wedding; she had felt unattended to.” Huda was laughing as she said that.
The private beach was wonderful and there Huda introduced Khadija to snorkeling. She and the rest of the wives were soon awe struck by all the colorful fish that dwelled in the rocks along the beach. Even some of the older children joined in and the wives took turns watching the babies. Some of the little ones were able to make things in the sands.
While the world was more peaceful than before, the family still had weapons in places that Khadija knew about. She was still much protected, but did not know it.

The afternoon rains seemed to cool the air somewhat. Khadija was under the water when the rain and lightning started. “It is so beautiful” she though. What a pleasing present from Allah swt.
The Hawaiian food was wonderful, but their waiter insisted that they were missing a great treat not to eat the pork dishes. The prince quickly explained that eating Pork was Haram (forbidden) and the waiter seemed to accept that. They did the usual tour of the Volcano but stayed out of the Cities because of security.
One afternoon as they were finishing lunch, they all heard the sound of a distant explosion. An armed Helicopter was seen approaching the estate where the royal family was staying. The enemy had defenses against every weapon known at that time, except another Helicopter flown by human hands.
The last part of their stay was horrible for Khadija because she had started and it was no secret to anyone in the family. It is obvious that she’d had a miscarriage. Huda, having borne the curse since she was 12 finally got sick of it and told Khadija to stay in bed until it was over. She even called Khadija a drama queen out of frustration. This led to more tears and slammed doors.
The Prince and his wives were all talking while Khadija was indisposed and Huda suggested that they get her pregnant again to get them some peace and quiet. That led to a good round of much needed laughter for everyone. They were just about to talk about other things when the Prince saw Khadija standing in the door, with tears running down her face.
She quickly ran over to the prince where he sat on some pillows, knelt at his side and tearfully apologized for being so troublesome. The rest of her evening was quite peaceful since she quietly lay at his side.
A day or two later, she was finally herself again.
Huda, Sasha, Haifa and Khadija sat in a corner talking. “Oh, Khadija, you must do everything you can to please our husband. He is loving and kind to us in a way that many men would not be. We are as free to be ourselves as even American Women!” The conversation went on for a while and then began to get very animated.
All the wives stood and began to disrobe, getting ready to go swimming. There was much giggling. And when they all had their suits on, they ran giggling to the door and down the steps. Khadija tried to lag behind but Huda and Sasha drove her ahead of them, planting open palm swats on her delectable bottom. As they ran past a reclining Abdul, he called to them. “Khadija, he called.”
They all stopped, and Khadija turned self-consciously around to face the King. She had a smirk on her face, and could hardly stifle her giggles since the other wives were making little comments.
“You are very beautiful, as are my other wives in their new suits.” He said. He watched as pink, then bright red went right up over her face and then down over her breasts. At first she sort of drew into herself but then relaxed as she accepted his complement whole heartedly.
Her new suit had tiny triangles that just covered her nipples and then little patches of cloth that barely covered her below. Her cheeks, all of them were glowing agreeably.
He stood, and walked over to the girls, his reaction to their beauty clear beneath his swim suit. He looked at the other wives and winked conspiratorially.
“Khadija, I notice something on your behind though, can those be hand prints?” He said.
With that Khadija and the other wives began to giggle coquettishly. Khadija had this really naughty gleam in her eyes. “Oh yes, Master, would you like to add another?”
Before Abdul could move, she turned and with the other wives, raced for the water, the King not far behind them.

The best revenge is to live a happy life. Never let the bastards win!

This is effectively the end of this story unless I change my mind. In which event, it won’t have been the end. Oh, I can’t decide.

Khadija Gwen Ellen Bint Brown

ENDED 11-25-08 Gwen

Ms Frankenstein

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Taxonomy upgrade extras:

Ms Frankenstein

by Gwen Brown

Ms Frankenstein

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

This is the first story I ever published on line. I first put it in storysite in 2001. I was still mucking around with a name then and sometimes used Credence Browne. I think I will keep her alive as a character.

I can't read this story myself with out reliving the feelings of terror and lostness that I felt at that time. This was an extremely bleak time in my life; forcing myself to live the life that others wanted me to but knowing full well that it was not me.

I want to warn some of you that this may be triggering. I know it is for me. It is also from the depths of my heart in a time when I was not medicated into stupor. Now I am coming off all my meds and feeling really vulnerable and frightened. I will adapt and learn to be a happy person again.

Ms Frankenstein by: Credence Brown (Gwen Brown)

Credence stood there, knees held tightly together, shivering slightly as the rain soaked wind buffeted her. The boardwalk didn't offer much protection against the elements.
Even with her long cotton raincoat tightly buttoned, the wind still whipped under her skirt and chilled her ankles.

She'd left the apartment after she witnessed the wreck and subsequent death of her tormentor, to try to sort her feelings out a bit. She'd thought to walk down the beach but it was so cold that her low heels offered little protection and also proved to be a poor choice for beach travel.

The hood of her long raincoat offered some protection but the driving rain still pelted her glasses, gradually compromising her vision in spite of the fact that she was using her exquisitely nailed hands to hold the edge of the hood out.

Now, looking out toward the stormy Pacific ocean, and listening to the roar of the surf, her thoughts were a jumble of pent-up emotions. So much had happened to her in the last months. She felt crazy, and unsure of herself; with scattered and surrealistic memories of some other life. A life which did not fit into her present reality.

It was as if every person around her, just now was a potential source of pain for her. Credence felt afraid and alone. She couldn't say that she could remember much of her past life. Her body still felt as if it were for some reason foreign to her and she had not the slightest idea why.

She felt so near tears all the time. It was as if she were waking up from a horriblly bad nightmare. As a matter of fact, she was not sure she was not still, in one.

Credence was sure the man down the boardwalk from her was following her. She didn't know what to do but was sure she could not tolerate being in fear of what he might do to her later. Careful not to let him know she was watching him, Credence thought about what to do.

Doctor Shahava had abandoned her in this little coastal town, called Seaside, with almost no money. He'd repeatedly told her that she'd had a bad accident and that he had nursed her back to health. Credence wondered if that nursing included the unwanted intimacy that he'd forced her into having with him.

She found herself suddenly knowing things and had no idea how she'd learned them. He'd taught her every aspect of lovemaking including some which seemed really sick. Her wrists were still red from the chains he'd used on her last night. Finally, he seemed to grow bored of her and arranged this weekend trip.

Credence was not actually surprised to find that he was returning to Portland and she was not. He said he had a family and had to leave her there and return to them before his wife got suspicious. He said he'd be back to see how she was doing.

He'd told her that someone would contact her in a week or so and offer her a job in a local business. He had a wicked leer on his face that scared her when he said that. It felt horrible knowing another human being could have that much power over her.

Deciding, Credence walked up the walk toward the man. Suddenly, she slid into another one of those disconcerting waking dreams that made her feel so inept. She'd noticed they happened when she was really upset. Someday, she would understand them as disasociation.

She could feel her mind slipping away and could do nothing to stop it. Her vision grew foggy and sounds seemed distant.

Her legs felt stiff as she tried to walk. She wasn't on the beach any more. The heels, far too high for her, threatened to trip her. The skirt she wore limited her steps in length. It helped to swing her hips so she could take slightly longer steps. She'd been doing this for days. She'd walk for a little while and then sit for a while. He'd make her climb some steps and the go back down them again.

It felt as if she was doing these things this way for the first time but she had become very good at it and enjoyed it. Her breasts swaying on her chest felt so natural. They weren't overly large but made her feel like a woman. Why was it so new and wonderful to feel like a woman? Hadn't she always been one?

The scene changed as fast as turning the page of a book. Now she sat on a huge bed. She felt very aroused. Her knees were spread and she was impaled on something that went way inside her body. She couldn't get up and didn't want to. She felt a joyous, ravenous feeling sweeping through her body. As she lost consciousness, the setting changed yet again.

Credence sat there, immaculately manicured hands folded on her lap. She was nervous. It had been a long time now and she was starting to wonder. Her whole body was super sensitive. She could feel every item of clothing on it as if it were an entity of it's own.

The light blue starched cotton dress she wore had a full skirt and mid calf hemline. She felt the waistline caress her body, the bodice holding her firmly upright. The matching wide fabric belt added to the tiny waist effect.

She could feel the scoop neck that revealed just enough cleavage. The air circulating in the room felt cool on her upper breasts. The way the sleeves were sewn on, the only comfortable way to hold her upper arms was almost at her sides. The back buttons secured the dress firmly about her body. It had taken her a half-hour to fasten all of them. How nice it would have been to have someone, a lover to help her.

Under the dress was a double layered full slip, the outer layer a stiff starched nylon netting and the inner a smooth satin sewn so slim that her legs were restricted to short, mincing steps. Credence wondered how she'd do on steps. The effect of such an undergarment was to give the dress some fullness but not that of the 50's style.

Beneath all that, an underbust corset was laced tightly about her abdomen. He'd put that on her. Credence knew better than to fight him. The last thing she wanted was another therapy session. The Electro Therapy as he called it left her feeling terrified and incompetent.

She had to be careful how she bent over because the top of the corset and her bra clashed then, inflicting painful pinches. She just knew that he could have put her in an all in one and she'd be much more comfortable.

She waited, trying not to think of how long he'd kept her there. Looking down past her slightly pointed full breasts, she eyed her hands. They were almost useless. Some how Credence could remember being much stronger. What had happened to her? He'd done something so that she had only enough strength to pick up small items. A turkey in a roaster was out of the question. She'd grown more accustomed to the long fingernails and as she did felt less helpless.

Through her clothing, she felt the garters lying against her inner thighs. She'd protested about wearing them at first and gotten a whipping over them. Then he'd shown her how to fasten them on the inside of her thighs in front and almost on the outside in back. That way they didn't show and one could sit with out inadvertently unfastening them. She had to concede that they were surprisingly little bother once she got used to them. Besides, she had no choice.

Beyond her hands, she could see the rounded toes of her matching pumps sticking out from under the skirt of her dress. She had to admit they were very pretty. She held them out, carefully holding her feet together the way he required her to do it. When she set them down again, Credence was careful to put her feet to one side, like a lady.

Finally, Credence could hear his footsteps in the hallway. Her pulse quickened. Why had it taken so long and where were they going. Something akin to fear with a touch of admiration flooded through her.

"Hello Credence. You look very nice today." He said

"Oh thank you so much Doctor." She replied. She felt herself blush slightly as he kissed her on the forehead.

"Here, stand up, it's time for us to go. I have some people for you to meet." He said.

She stood, wobbling slightly on the 4" heels. He placed a metallic blue colored cape about her shoulders and buttoned the top button. He fastened her wrists into wristbands inside the cape near the front and then zipped it from the floor to the top button. An ornamented gold choker sewn into the cape snapped shut about her slim neck. She'd be able to raise the hem of the cape to negotiate steps but that is all the freedom she'd have. He seemed concerned that she'd escape or something.

He held her tightly as she negotiated the steps into the garage. When she got into the car she could see that she'd need help with the hem of her dress.

"Doctor, would you please help me with my dress?" She said. By now she knew he had deliberately placed her in the position where she'd have to ask for help just to get her accustomed to doing so. She also knew that he enjoyed her incapacity to help herself. That seemed demented to her but he allowed her no freedom of will and her drugged state kept her serene.

Now seated in the car he leaned across to fasten her seat belt and then kissed her deeply. Credence felt breathless when he finished. His hand cupped one of her breasts through her clothing and she knew not to resist the response of her body. By now she knew the penalty for failure to respond to his overtures.

Credence suddenly snapped back to the present. Someone was speaking to her. It was the man. She'd stopped right beside him. Credence's heart pounded in her ears.

"I said, it's a cold day." He said again.

"Oh yes, I do hope no one gets hurt." She said. By now, Credence's hands shook and she felt as if she could pass out.

"Look Miss. Who ever you are now. I know all about the Doctor and what he's done to you. I want you to know you are not the first. The others all died." He said.

This was too much for Credence. Tears began to flood her eyes and then to stream down her face, ruining her carefully done makeup.

"What are you going to do to me?" She said.

Her voice was almost too low for him to hear. Uncontrollable weeping choked off the last part of her sentence. As he started to reply, Credence went limp, falling heavily into his arms.

She wakened in the apartment, lying on the couch. She looked about the room. He was sitting at the table counting some money out. There was a sizeable stack.

Credence tried to sit up but standing was too much for her to try right now.

"He turned and looked at her. Her first clear view of him was surprising. He was about 50 she guessed and his face looked as hard as a commando's did. It softened for just a moment as he saw she was awake and sitting up.

"OK, he named you Credence. Do you remember anything at all?" He asked.

"No, some, a little." She said. It was obvious she was confused about what had happened to her.

"Well, you were once a man. I don't know how you fell into his clutches. It doesn't look like you had a family. I found your old picture in the yearbook at your High School but that is as far as I could go." He said.

"It would take a very good Doctor to tell what you once were." He said.

He told her many things she did not know. Credence found out the Doctor had done all sorts of genetic experiments and surgery on her. From what he knew of the Doctor's work, it was so good that no one would ever know. For all he knew, the Doctor got Credence's body from the morgue or had simply kidnapped her off the streets. Credence found out there was simply no way to go back.

"He had a lot of money in two brief cases in the car. I took them both before he left to give back to the bosses he'd embezzled it from. I'm going to split my half with you to help you make a start. There's about a half million here. That should help you out but it's lousy payment for what he did to you. The rest I'm giving back to the people who set me on him. My agreement is I get half of what I recover.", He said.

"I call it poetic justice that he should die in a freak accident with a gasoline tanker. He ran under the back trailer and snapped off the piping, the hot engine igniting the gasoline that poured out all over his car. I can't imagine how he missed seeing the truck.", He said.

Both he and Credence had seen it from two different directions.

"Oh, he was going to sell you to a creep down the road who has a strip joint. He doesn't know you are here. The Doctor was going to call him next week to firm things up. The Doctor was going to let the creep control you with a drug he developed for the purpose. You had your last dose last night." He said. "You should be coming out of the fog as the days pass"

"If I was you "missy", I'd get out of town, now and make a new life before all the concerned parties add things up." He said. "You'll probably need to hold up some where until you get through the withdrawal if there is any." He finished.

"Can you tell me anything else about my past?" She said.

"Missy, it would be dangerous for you to start nosing around his place so I'm not telling you anything else." He said.

"I'm telling you to get away from here as fast as you can." He said. His voice sounded so hard that she started to shake and cry again from fear.

"You know, he did a really nice job on you. No one will know if you don't tell them. Everything works too, from what I read in his notes." He said.

He patted her on top the head and left.

When Credence's emotions settled somewhat, she put her coat back on and left the apartment in search of a way to get away. She was going down to the Manager's office to ask about a bus when she noticed a used car for sale in the parking lot.

It was nothing special but it was a newer automatic and looked to be in good shape. The phone number was to an apartment in the complex. The man had just purchased it a year ago and now wanted to return to college. He just wanted out of the payments.

He was very happy to have Credence count him out exactly what he asked. Before he left, Credence suddenly realized she'd not be able to move her two suitcases without great difficulty. He lacked change.

"Sir, do you think you could help me put my cases in the car?" She asked. Her voice betrayed her feeling of vulnerability. He seemed sympathetic. "I'll forget about the change." She said.

He agreed to come to her apartment in a half-hour.

It was nearly 1:00pm when Credence finally got out of town. She had the hand written bill of sale for the car and that is all. Credence was still amazed that she knew how to drive but had no recollection of how she learned. She had no driver's license and knew she'd have to take care of that soon. There was insurance, too.

Something told her to lose herself in California. She had no where else to go. She couldn't remember anything. Did she have a family worrying about her? Did she have a job unfinished? She couldn't say.

She stopped for the night at a motel south of Eugene. The clerk asked her if she needed any help. And she gratefully accepted it, tipping him generously but still careful not to arouse suspicion.

Something wakened her about 4:00am. She sat up, fully alert. Credence couldn't understand what had happened. She walked to the window and looked out. Two men where standing in the door of the managers office. They kept looking toward the room Credence was occupying. She had a strange feeling about it. She dressed in a few minutes, somehow finding the strength to get her bags out to the car.

She stood there thinking to herself that no one could possibly be looking for her. Had the drugs made her paranoid? Was this the withdrawal the detective had warned her about? Shaking inside she decided that what ever the truth was she was getting out of there as soon as she could.

She didn't know if she was paranoid from that withdrawal or if someone really was hunting her. Now, they were sitting in the car outside the Managers office, looking toward her room.

She crept out to the car in the dark and slipped in when an early morning delivery truck pulling into the drive blocked their view. Almost too coincidentally, the truck began backing down a long alley, not only blocking their view but also blocking them in.

It had been very difficult to move the suitcases. She would be sore for a week.

In moments she started the car. Too late, the truck cleared the men's view and if they were going to bother her, they'd do it now. She left the lot before turning on her lights. She wasn't sure what had attracted their attention but she would put a stop to it right now, if she could. Her heart was pounding as she lost sight of the motel. No one seemed to be following.

She back tracked back to Salem and began looking for a bus stop but instead found an Amtrak station. She checked her bags in a locker, bought a ticket. The next train was at 9:45am. She'd passed a little park on the way through town. It was near a little fast food restaurant.

Pulling into the park, Credence suddenly noticed it was near a river and there was a boat ramp there.

A train ride, a used car, a bus ride and another used car later, Credence felt safe. Now she was in Chicago. She didn't know how long it would take to discover the car in the water. She hoped never.

Credence set about getting an apartment and a new identity. It took her a couple weeks to do that and was forced to spend her nights in a motel, telling them she'd had everything stolen on the bus ride out here.

At the library, she used computers there to search the Internet to find a way to get false identity. The Doctor had thought he would be able to manage her better if she had no legal right to exist. On the Internet there were many sites that boasted they were in the identity business.

Finally, she found someone right in Chicago who said he could help her. It was all done with mail and fax machines. They never saw each other. She found out later, he'd simply kept a list of deceased babies handy until they got cold, a year or so and then sold them again after he'd doctored the death certificates and gotten a false SSN. Sure, the method would never hold up under close scrutiny but the people he dealt with had new names every few months.

Credence even managed to find a baby named Credence with a last name of Browne. She'd really liked Credence and planned to keep the name. Had she known that the Doctor had used Credence as her file name, she might have thought twice about it.

The name did seem very well used in the states so she did not think it would draw attention.

Credence liked lingerie. She finally found what she was looking for in a group of shops down town. She didn't notice the middle aged gentleman who had followed her for the last hour. She had her purchases sent to her apartment; to arrive after she got home.
She found her preferences were toward stockings and garter belts or corsets, long skirts full or slim, and white blouses. She bought one suit.

The sales person who sold her the suit referred her to a tailor shop to make the modifications to the suit she wanted. Credence felt a drive to wear her clothing tight but not slutty. She even arrived at her appointment the next day, laced into corset and wearing stockings. She allowed the woman who was tailoring her suit to even tighten the laces a little to further trim her already tiny waist. She wore the suit home, thrilled at her new appearance.

She now suspected that her odd little quirks were somehow related to the Doctor. In truth he'd not actually known what he was doing with much of his work in genetics. It was, she supposed, like programming. Artificial or not Credence felt just as driven as if she had natural desires.

While at the shop, Credence met the owner. He seemed very nice and his face was familiar to her although she did not know why. Even now, she suffered gaps in her memory and did not know why. She supposed it was from the stress of the past months.

He was tall and had a medium build. His dark brown hair and full eyebrows made him seem mysterious. Attracted to him, Credence eventually accepted a dinner engagement with him to discuss some Modeling for him. Credence had protested that she had never done any Modeling but he eventually wore her down through constant flattery over a period of several weeks.

Credence felt deliciously feminine that evening. Corseted, stockinged, skirted and heeled, her trim toreador jacket finished the effect. Her brown mane fell nearly to her hips and the long dangly gold earrings made her nearly deaf when she moved. The new tight curl permanent gave her hair the look she'd been trying to find. What a chore it had been too. The woman in the shop kept asking if she'd like to have some of her hair cut off, but Credence emphatically declined the offer. She joked that Credence would have to choose a wide door wherever she went.

She had no idea that the need to be exceedingly feminine was part of her conditioning.
Now came the finishing touch. The cape he'd sent her nearly reached the floor and had pockets sewn into the lining to accept her arms, according to the accompanying note. She knew she needed to put the mask on first and took it out of the box. Interestingly there was no strap, just a little bit, which went into her mouth. She thought she'd simply spit it out when she wanted to talk.

Credence wanted to be all dressed and standing there when he arrived. She had no idea that the cape was part of her conditioning. When she put it on, her mind was conditioned to make her very docile. The Doctor had sought to make her easy to subdue when he wanted to demonstrate her to potential customers.

She wanted to be desirable and make him want her so much that he couldn't help himself. She thought craftily that he'd assumed he'd have to help her on with the cape.

Credence removed the mask and laid it aside because the cape seemed very different in the way it was sewn together. Obviously, the zipper was in back because a bit of lace around the collar indicated the front. After a long time she could see that she'd not get it fastened by her self but then she had an idea. She used a piece of yarn through the zipper over the shower rod and back to the floor.

So after much delay, Credence managed to get her arms into the pockets on each side of the zipper after she'd gotten it started up the zip a good distance. Now she backed away from the curtain rod, pulling the zip up and eventually worked it up to her neck. When she finished her arms were corralled in back along her hips. With difficulty, she pulled sharply on the string and broke it. Now she'd not get out of the cape without help.

Credence knew he'd be at the apartment any time to pick her up. She'd left the door unlocked to let him in. He always used his key and let himself in anyway.

She walked over to the table and put her face into the mask by leaning far over. She almost fell over but as soon as her forehead hit the mask, she regained her balance. It took some wiggling but she finally found the little ball like bit, which went into her mouth and clamped it with her teeth. She lost the mask out of her mouth the first time so the next time she grabbed it, she really clamped down on it.

Credence could hear a slight hissing as she stood up. Then she felt something moving through her hair and under her chin. The mask was clamping its self to her head! Alarmed, she tried to spit it out but she was too late. In a few more seconds, the clamping was complete and the little ball in her mouth had expanded to a full gag. Credence could not make a sound. To make matters worse, the eyeholes on the mask had closed when the gag expanded.

Credence lapsed into a semiconscious state just the way the Doctor had built her. She wanted to fight or be afraid but she could not concentrate enough to do so.

After what seemed ages, the door to her apartment opened. Credence wondered what she had gotten herself into. Someone walked into the apartment but Credence could not tell who it was. Tiny little squeaks came from her mouth but that was all she could do.

It was obvious to Credence at the feminine clicking of the heels on the floor it was not her dinner guest. The person led her out and down the hall to the elevator. She'd tried to resist but found the heels she wore only hampered her. The ride to the garage terrified her and she'd soon been ushered into a car. She could tell they were in the garage from the sounds.

After a short ride, they got out, walked across the sidewalk and into a shop, which smelled like roses. "Hello, Credence." A pleasant female's voice said to her. Credence was in no position to make conversation. "Ok, well, lets see what we can do with you." She said.

By now Credence was very frightened. The woman rubbed something on the back of her neck. She didn't feel the needle and in a few minutes, Credence didn't care what she did. She wasn't even frightened.

She led Credence a short distance down a hall and into a room.
The woman removed Credence's cape and did something to remove the mask. She could see that she was in what appeared to be a medical clinic. The woman helped her into what looked like a dental chair with OB stirrups. She started to strap Credence in but suddenly decided not to when Credence began to moan softly.

This was all somehow familiar to Credence but she couldn't understand how in her foggy mental state. She removed Credence's Jacket and drew some blood. The woman was good because all Credence felt was the rubber hose around her arm.

Later Credence began to answer questions for the woman. She could remember talking to her for a long time and then everything was blank.

Credence wakened sitting at her own kitchen table about 4:30am, still wearing her suit. She never did see the man who she was supposed to have dinner with and never did afterward.

Credence could not remember a thing about the previous evening. Had the door to her apartment just closed? She could not be sure.

About a week later, Credence was at the local college looking into some courses that seemed interesting. Somehow, she felt followed again and after she moved several times she finally noticed a woman who just happened to be interested in the same thing as her too many times.

Credence was in no mood to go through the events of the past week all over again. This time she walked right up to the woman and asked here what she found so interesting about her.

She had a concerned look and Credence immediately felt drawn to her but remained cautious. Finally, the woman said, "Credence, we need to talk about something very important." I can't tell you what here but please meet me at that McDonald's at 1:00PM, OK?"

Credence looked down, picking at her long, flowered wrap skirt, nervously re folding the wrap even though it was in no danger of exposing her legs.

"Why should I trust you?" She said.

"I know what happened to you and I know what happened last week." She said.

Credence's heart began to pound. The woman helped her into a chair. She nearly began to weep but somehow held it off. Credence felt worn out.

"Could we meet somewhere with some privacy?" Credence choked out.

"Here is my card. Meet me here after 3:00. I'll wait for you." She said.

They have a tracer in you. They probably aren't even tailing you since they know where you are at all times." She finished.

"Here, go to these stores and walk around a little and buy a few things just as if you were shopping. If anyone is following, maybe they'll get bored." She said.

The woman left hurriedly and Credence didn't see her for the rest of the morning. This time she simply kept her distance from Credence to see if anyone else was interested in her. She also took care to notice if anyone were following her.

The woman she'd met was Dr Jane Miller, a Gynecologist. In what Credence assumed was her office she began to explain things that Credence never suspected. She found out later that Dr Miller had borrowed the office from an old Medical school friend.

She explained the origin of her memory loss, the way the some people kept finding her so easily and where she was from. All this had originated at a little Hospital in the lower southeast side of Portland, Oregon.

Dr Miller said she used to work for the good Doctor but had grown afraid when some of his patients mysteriously died. It hadn't been that hard to walk away from him since he had this insane desire to keep all the credit for his work. She'd been scrupulous about flattering him but carefully maintained her distance over the years.

The woman had learned of his tracking devices before she left. After his death she wondered if he'd left any wandering souls. She'd found it easy to get a friend of hers to let her into the Doctor's office. She wanted to go to the authorities but was too afraid. The device was simple. It used a combination GPS and Cell phone. Once a day it called the cell network in Portland and reported it's position. The whole transaction took less than a second, so the batteries would last for months.

The whole thing was buried in the fatty tissue on Credence's right hip. Dr Miller simply put the little receiving device in her purse and walked out with it when she saw a moving signal had been reporting in every day.

Credence had wondered why she had a persistent sore spot on her hip and when she saw the device, which had been planted there, she knew why. She felt chilled to find out what she'd had inside her body.

Credence begged the woman to give her more information about her past life but her knowledge was sketchy. She did know that she had come from a car wreck and knew the place where it occurred but nothing else. The wreck had occurred in the Sunset Canyon near the tunnel.

The woman Doctor wanted to do everything she could for Credence. She'd taken two weeks off work to finally track her down once she realized that Credence had settled. Unfortunately, someone else who knew got to her first. What fate was in store for Credence, she had no idea. They, who ever it was, were apparently watching her.

Dr Miller urged Credence to disappear once again when she removed the tracer. Credence did just that, wearing surgery scrubs home after giving her clothes to Dr Miller. The Doctor said, the less Credence knew the better.

That night, Credence was on a plane for Florida, she'd decided to spend a few days at Disney world and near the Cuban American compound. By the time she left Florida, she was a blue eyed blonde with just shoulder length hair. She also decided that moving to Portland would be safe since they were now looking for her everywhere but there. She wanted to know about that accident!

Credence had also bought a mini skirt and skimpy tank top but felt so exposed wearing it that she changed clothes in the restroom when she landed at the Portland Airport. She'd decided that clothes like that were not for a 30-year-old woman at all!

Credence happily found she could wear the blue contacts almost all the time. Her new Doctor told her she was a natural for them. She'd decided that she'd wait for a while to contact Dr Miller. She'd used a rental car to drive past her office but felt strange about the situation.

Credence found a darling apartment west of Portland in a growing area called Hillsboro. It was on the second floor and had a turret style sitting room with a view of a new city park. She had a security system installed in the apartment, rented some furniture and appliances. She'd found a darling full canopy bed with canopy. She made sure the apartment manager was in her suites when the men arrived. Credence chose to be absent. It cost her $20 but she just did not feel comfortable with the men in her apartment.

She also found a cute little red Honda Civic. The dealer seemed miffed when Credence was able to open the hood and knew exactly what she was looking at. He'd tried to tell her the car was turbo charged and when she looked, she said, "No it's not!" She wondered later if she should have told the man to take money off the price of the car since they'd forgotten the turbo charger.

Credence knew at the rate she was going through money, she'd have to get a job soon. She knew she could type very well and she'd realized unexpectedly that she knew things about Electrical Contracting that not many women knew. She'd been walking into a Safeway store where some men were remodeling the deli section and saw a man working on an electrical panel right where the customers were. She walked right up to him and said, "Where are your barriers and safety tape? Are you doing this alone?"

He hurriedly apologized and said he'd take care of it right away. As Credence walked away from the man, she suddenly found herself wondering how she knew about that sort of thing.
Later as she was checking out, a man in a suit walked up to her and said, "Can we talk for a moment?"

He had nice eyes and a friendly voice. Credence felt her body react to him immediately. It was embarrassing but she tried to hide it. Fortunately, her bra was thick enough to hide her outrageously pointing breasts.

Credence felt disconcerted with all the emotions flooding through her body but managed to squeak out a timid answer. "Yes, I suppose so."

"My name is Fred Harris and I'm the Construction Superintendent." He said.

"Oh, very nice to meet you Mr. Harris. I'm Credence Browne and I, well I do, well I just live down the road." She said.

She realized that she had no real identity and didn't really know who she was. She found herself somewhat shocked to find that she'd just held out her hand, fingers extended, palm down and done a modified curtsey. She had no idea where she'd learned that!

"My Electrical Contractor over there said that you had confronted him about his safety practices when you came into the store. He was surprised and said he'd simply gotten in a hurry." He said. "I hope you don't turn this in. I really need this contract." The man finished.

Credence felt her face flush, and felt somewhat empowered at the way the man had approached her. He could have simply told her to mind her own business.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. I suddenly just knew what was wrong and I don't know how." She said. Credence could feel tears forming in her eyes, somehow now afraid of the man.

He seemed to sense her predicament and her approaching loss of control. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Please don't cry." He said. That was all it took to open the floodgates. Now Credence began to weep in great sobs.

Fred seemed perplexed at first and then seemed to make a decision. He helped the now nearly incapacitated Credence through the line. She insisted on paying for her own groceries, but could not see through all those tears to count that money out. By the time they'd gone through the line, Credence felt exhausted and hoarse.

The store manager was hovering around Credence like a mother hen, making sure that no one bothered her. Eventually Credence croaked out that Fred had not been upsetting her but that it had been very difficult for her the last several weeks. She didn't know why she'd just started bawling.

Credence was about to find out about menstruation. Apparently, it had taken her new organs a few months to fully waken.

The manager knew Fred and she told Credence that he could be trusted. Fred wanted to make sure she was all right and finally Credence allowed him to drive her home. One of his men picked him up at her apartment. He even carried her groceries in and locked her car.

"Can I call you later?" He asked.

Credence felt too confused and worn out to argue and let him copy her phone number down before he left. She wakened hours later, her stomach cramping, still fully dressed.

The next morning, the persistent ringing of the phone finally wakened her. Her hair was all over the place and blinded her until she wrestled it out of her eyes. Groggily she searched for the source of the ringing and answered.

"Hello." She said. She sounded sleepy and almost out of it.

After a moments hesitation a man's voice timidly said, "I'm sorry to waken you. This is Fred. I was just checking on you to see if you are OK."

Credence was absolutely thrilled that he would care and went into the Full Charm Mode.

Again her body was giving her the ride of her life, chilling and flushing, lips pulsing and nipples pointing. It was almost too much for her to handle.

"Oh Fred, thank you so much for calling. You didn't have to do that. I'm so thrilled to hear from you. I was so embarrassed at what I did yesterday that I didn't think I'd ever hear from you again." She said.

Her voice sounded so feminine that it even surprised Credence. She'd felt so unsure of herself that suddenly she could feel that she was in every way a woman!

Fred wanted to know if she could meet him for Lunch. Credence hurriedly looked in the mirror and shrieked. "I'm a mess", She said. He told her it was only 10:00 am. It didn't take much encouragement to get Credence to agree to meet him at Applebee's.

She was only fifteen minutes late walking into the restaurant. She'd worn platform sandals on her stockinged feet, an almost floor length, flowered full skirt and a light mauve tank top under an open white sheer blouse. Her nipples kept misbehaving so she finally wore a padded bra to give her more modesty. She'd finally given up on her hair and put it in a ponytail.

She felt so special when he pulled her chair out for her and seated her. Lunch lasted for over two hours while they talked. Credence could feel an already budding love for this man. She didn't know how she would handle it all. Things were happening so fast for her.

She didn't tell him everything except she did say that she'd been in an accident and didn't remember much. She knew some things and didn't know how was all she told him for now.

She wanted to look into the accident and try to discover who she'd been, her past life, and learn more about what the Doctor had done to her. Just now she was thinking that she would have plenty of time to look at that. Right now she was too interested in finding out more about Fred.

To be continued.............

© 2001
The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story must contact the author for permission.

Ms Frankenstein Part 2

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Mature / Thirty+

TG Themes:

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Credence continues to search for clues about her past life. Fred becomes a much larger force; friend, protector, confidant. Will he be a lover? She begins to see that the evil forces in her life persist.

Ms Frankenstein by: Credence Brown (e) (Gwen Brown)

Part 2

Fred eventually offered Credence a job helping with the office work but also doing site inspections. At first, Fred’s office crew seemed a bit standoffish, but as time went on, at least a few of the other women warmed to her.

Work at his contracting company kept her very busy. Some of the subcontractors were growing to fear her little walk through inspections. She had grown reluctant to confront them personally but after Fred did a few times, they began to understand it was simply easier to be nice to Credence rather than face Fred. The quality of the work improved with two people to watch over the work.

Credence wakened thinking of Fred. She lay in bed for a few minutes while she ordered her day. It was a sunny morning, and she thought about what to wear. Growing restless, she got out of bed and scampered into the bathroom. Of course morning ablutions were first on the list and then she put on her favorite soft, light blue, robe.

She went searching in the kitchen for something to eat. The way she stood dumbly in front of the cupboards, an observer would think that they were empty, but in truth, Credence was learning about feminine cravings. She finally settled on some wheat chex and milk with Coffee.

While she was eating, the phone rang. It was Fred. “Hi Credence, were you planning on coming in today” He asked.

“It will be a little later because I thought I would give our friends over at Computec a visit to see how they are doing.”

“Is Joe treating you better now?”

“He’s not much of a problem but that apprentice of his better learn to stop staring at me or I am going to whack him”

“Oh, I am sure you will be a force to be reckoned with.” Fred was chuckling as he said it.

“OK Mister, you just wait until I think you need straightening out!” Credence spat.

“Seriously Credence, if the kid is bothering you, I will talk to his boss for you.”

She was about to say that she could handle her own problems, when she decided that she liked being defended. “Oh, would you Fred that would be so nice?”

“Yeah, no problem; look me up when you get in will you?”

“Sure, see you later.” She finished.

Well, mister creep is taken care of she thought. She decided to drive over to SE Portland and look at Dr “Evil’s” old offices to see if she remembered anything. Dr Miller had given her the address.

The difference now is that she knew the source of some of her strange drives. In her conversations with Dr Miller, she’d learned that much of the conditioning would break down as time passed. She and Jane (Dr Miller) stayed in touch using encrypted email, through a local university.

Neither of the women knew about the experimental neuron modifier in Credence’s brain. Dr “Evil’s” mechano/biological mechanism was supposed to change our girl’s brain structure to that of a woman’s along with feeding his perverted agenda. It was both a biological nanite, and a virus, except it was designed not to mutate. Much of the early remodeling of her brain happened while she was in a medically induced coma.

Her kidnapper, before his death, thought that most of the personality change had finished, but he never would have suspected that many of the new “connections” were still going on. Credence was in for huge surprises.

That afternoon after Fred and her had lunch; she got on Route 26 and headed into town. As she drove, Credence smiled as she thought about how little actual persuasion it took to get her to spend time with Fred. The freeway climbed a short hill and then began a steep winding descent into Downtown after passing through a tunnel. She’d vaguely remembered the freeway after Fred showed her the Map but it showed nothing about a tunnel. As she came around the corner and got her first view of the entrance, Credence was suddenly frozen in terror. She did not know why but she could not go into that Tunnel! She slammed on the brakes and then hearing loud horns and the squealing of tires, blindly ran the car off the right side of the road and up into the landscaping.

Her car was well out of the travel lanes but its presence there made for much rubber necking; producing a huge traffic jam. Credence sat there dumbly for a while. Time had no meaning to her in her catatonic state. Gradually, she came around.

Still really shaken up, she called Fred. When he answered, all she could say was “Help me Fred”, and then she started bawling.

“What’s the matter Credence?” He asked.

Every time she tried to explain she’d just break down again until finally she managed a little better.

“Fred, you didn’t say anything about a tunnel on the freeway and when I saw it I could not drive through it. Fred, I crashed my car.”

“OK, so where are you?” He said.

“I am in the shrubs before the road goes into the tunnel”

“I am on the way sweetheart. You just sit there until I get there.” He said and hung up. He also called a wrecker and told 911 dispatch where she was.

When he was well on his way, he called Credence back. “Sweetie, I am on the way and I called a wrecker just in case.” He said. His voice was filled with concern for her.

“Oh, Fred thank you so much, dar…. Sir, I will be so very happy to see you.”

After they both hung up, Credence was hugely embarrassed because she just about called him darling. As she was starting to deal with her feelings about Fred, there was a sudden knocking on her window. Looking out, she could see a Motorcycle Policeman.

“Miss, are you OK?” He asked. He also asked for her ID.

Credence said, “I think so, but I think I broke my car.” She said with an impish smile.

The officer looked down at the front tire and said, “Yes, you have at least one flat tire.”

The officer was very nice to her, seeing that she was on the verge of tears.

“So Miss Brown, how did you get off the road here?”

His smile was warm enough not to frighten her, but realizing that she could not simply tell him that she was suddenly afraid, so she said that sudden cramping was so strong that she just drove off the road.

Just about that time Fred arrived. He’d pulled into a wider area up the hill and ran down to her. When Credence saw him, she burst into tears again. She was so upset that she scrambled out the window into his arms. “I’m so sorry” was all she could get out and then she began sobbing again.

The policeman was somewhat bemused by her sudden agility, especially in a dress, but when he saw her hanging on him, he just shook his head.

“I am so sorry officer; I am so embarrassed; I think I ruined my car.”

Just then the fire department and an ambulance arrived. They were just about to be all over it, but she and Fred managed to convince them that Credence was OK. The Policeman took her name, but did not write a ticket. The wrecker showed up and Fred told him to put the car in a certain shop in Hillsboro.

“OK folks, you are free to go.” The officer said.

Fred told him that he was parked up beyond the off ramp for Goose Hollow. Fred almost carried Credence up to his car. He started it and moved slowly down the off ramp and out of the congestion.

“So, what happened Sweet heart, what made you drive off the road?” He asked.

Credence looked at him for a moment, and unfastening her seat belt. She moved into the center of the seat. When she was bucked in again, she buried herself against his side.

In a quivering, little girl voice, she said, “Sir, there is something about that tunnel, I need to go through it but I can not drive through it.” Credence felt like there was a light show going on in her brain and she was nauseated.

“So, why are you calling me “Sir” now?”

“I don’t know Sir; I mean Fred’ I just feel really confused and upset right now”

“Well, since the day is mostly shot, let’s go over to that clinic you were going to visit?” He said. “You almost called me darling when you first called, so what is going on?” “You know, calling me darling would be totally acceptable to me.” He said, his voice seemed full of humor and love.

“Ok, darling” She said, as she wiggled her body up against his side more firmly.

“I don’t know? It is like there is something going on in my head. I don’t know how to explain it but I feel really disoriented right now.”

“Well, I’m taking you to the hospital to see that you are OK.” He said.

“Oh, please, don’t take me to the hospital; I have my own Doctor who knows me.”

Fred pulled over in a wide spot. “OK, then you will call her right now, and she can either meet us at her office or the hospital.”

The forcefulness in his voice helped Credence to feel more secure. “Yes sir, I will call her right now.” She quickly dug her phone from her purse and called Jane. Her phone immediately rang through to the Doctor’s voice mail. “Hi Jane, I am with Fred right now, and there is something wrong with me. He says I have to meet with you or he is taking me to the hospital.”

As soon as Credence was off the phone, Fred headed for Jane’s clinic. In a few minutes Jane called back.

“Hey kid, let’s see, it’s 3:30 PM now, I can see you at 5:00 PM, how is that?”

“That would be wonderful.” Credence said.

When Credence hung up and she had just a moment to think, she realized what she’d just done. She was about to compromise her secret with Fred. What would Fred think?

“Um, Fred, we need to talk about something important and secret.”

Looking down at Credence, he said, “Let me guess, you were kidnapped by Aliens?”

Credence had a sinking feeling, and then began to realize that she could easily lose him. “Fred, this is much worse than that, and I can prove it.” Tears were threatening to overflow from her eyes again.

“OK, we are going to talk this out. Should we do it now or go to a restaurant?” Fred was starting to think that Credence was perhaps an escaped mental patient, or worse. Well, anyway, they had an appointment with her Doctor soon. Perhaps she could calm her down.

Rather than go to a Restaurant, Fred drove her to the Doctor’s office and they sat out front in the parking lot talking until the appointment. Credence gave him the short version of her story and she was able to be fairly lucid even with the light storm going in her brain.

“Hello Credence, who is this that you have with you?” Jane sounded a little cross, but was willing to listen to the explanation. Credence started to explain that Fred was safe and he knew everything. She only got that far, and just slumped to the floor.

Jane told Fred, “I can’t follow usual procedure here because this whole situation is very dangerous to our girl. You seem safe enough and I have no choice but to take a chance on you. Please pick her up and bring her into my short stay surgery suite.”

Fred did as he was asked and soon the ill young woman was lying under the huge lights in that room.

“How much did Credence tell you, Fred?”

“Well, she told me a pretty wild story about being operated on and programmed by some Doctor and being on the run. Is any of that true?”

“Yes, Fred that and much more is true. We know that the Doctor was killed in Seaside the night that he dumped her, but we do not know who the other players are and the specific locations involved.” She said. Connie worked away examining our girl as she talked to Fred.

“Fred, she needs the help of someone who cares for her and will try to protect her. Are you that person?”

“Yes, Doctor, I am. I have not known Credence long but I have quickly grown to love her. She is really strange, because one moment she is a strong young woman, and then the next she is clinging to me and calling me Sir. I had suspected that she had been through a lot.”

“Fred, this is not going to be over tomorrow or the next week. Do you have that kind of time?”

“I have to think about this some, but I will personally stay with her tonight, and tomorrow, I will contact a friend who I know will help me keep tabs on her. I take it you do not want the police involved?”

“Fred, I have to tell you that some of the medical procedures her captor did to her are so advanced that if that Doctor’s friends or worse yet the government gets wind of this, Credence will never have any peace and may well be a captive for the rest of her life.”

“OK, I will do some calling while you examine her.” Fred called his foreman and gave him some instructions. And then he called a number in Lincoln, Montana. He seemed pleased with the results.

“I know a Brain specialist. From what I can tell, she has very abnormal brain activity. Here is where it gets dangerous Fred. From now on, you need to stick to her like a Husband. I am going to put my wedding ring on her. I am not married but I wear it to keep from being bothered. Would you mind being her husband for now?”

“Well, this is a little soon.” He chuckled, “But now that you mention it, the idea appeals to me.” He said with laughter in his voice.

Jane paged her friend Brian, the Brain Guy, as she called him. He called back in just a minute or two.

“Hey Brian, this is Jane.”

Fred and Credence could only hear one side of the conversation.

“No Brian, I did not call you to accept your proposal of marriage.” She sounded like a teen aged girl talking to him.

“Seriously, you…I need a special favor. NO, down boy, darn it Brian I am trying to be serious. You need to use the big brain on top your shoulders, not the two small ones.” She quipped good naturedly.

When she had finished her conversation and was off the phone, “OK, here is what Brian is going to do. He is going to do a CAT scan and try to lose the image or destroy it once he’s seen it. OH, they’ll get all angry with him and make a fuss but he thinks he can get away with it.” Jane said.

“Ok, you are going to have to be one of those “pain in the ass”, possessive husbands that will not allow the Doctors or anyone to run you off. Some of these hospital people get pissy and you need to stand up to them.” There is this pain in the ass thing called Hipaa. They are not going to go asking for a marriage license unless you give them cause for suspicion. You just go in there acting like her husband, and keep the snoopy bastards off her. If she is out, they will have to ask you for permission to do things.” She said

Her use of the off color word made Fred raise his eyebrows but he knew enough to take her seriously.

It was Credence’s wish that she not become the subject of the local Psych crowd because she just plain did not trust them. Once the institutions become aware of her, and then the government, who knows what, would happen. In their talks over the months her and the Doctor (who insisted that Credence call her Jane) finally understood most of her modifications; though, not how he had done all of them.

Credence had a fully functioning Uterus and Cervix. Her menses had proved to be manageable after the first one. The only signs of surgery were three tiny scars about the size of a pencil. Her sizeable breasts (D’s) were all hers. Her DNA was all girls, no sign of male DNA.

There was a much defined, but tiny, mass in her brain, that had tested as non cancerous but they could not figure out what it did. Fred really had to clamp down on them to keep the medical people from prying too much.

Credence had researched the news during the time of her escape. Fred’s friend had arrived in Portland in a few days and was much help to her. John Dole had taken what Credence had and quickly found out that the Doctor’s real name was not what he had used in Portland. Dr Haroon was Iranian and had an estranged wife and two boys in Iran. Tasmeen and her two sons, 6 years old, Ahad and 10 years old, Haweed were living in near poverty there.

The good Doctor “Frankenstein” had ignored their pleas for help. The various letters and other correspondence had given her address and also revealed that he had been getting a substantial income from unnamed resources over there.

Sally had gone to the police then but had left any information about Credence out of the report. The last word that she’d heard from the police came in the form of a phone call from Sgt Harris of the Portland Police.

“Dr Miller?” the sergeant said.

“Yes, this is Dr Miller.” She said.

“I just thought you would want an update on the situation of Dr Haroon”

“Yes, how are things going for the wife?”

“We found her through the Iranian embassy. Apparently, she has asked for refugee status in the US and it looks like the Iranians are going to let her leave. The US embassy has said that she will be allowed to come” He said. “I think they are hoping that she can enlighten them on Haroon’s business dealings”

“That is just wonderful for her. Is there any news about the organization that was supporting him?” She asked.

“The Iranian government has not revealed any of that information to us. Perhaps they did to the state department but it is doubtful, with the current international situation” He said.

“Oh, the state department was in here checking on Dr Haroon and they asked about a project called Credence. Did you ever hear of a woman named Credence?” He finished.

Sally’s blood ran cold. She was determined to allow Credence all the privacy she wanted. Dr Miller knew that she would have to warn Credence. She quickly denied any knowledge of Credence and managed to get off the phone. She quickly sent an email to Credence.

The Detective had noted the change in Jane’s voice. Not being trained to lie, was not even aware of it.

About a week later, her receptionist gave her a message, which was signed, The Girl You helped. It was confusing at first because her practice was all women. The message said she’d call back. She’d tucked the message into her lab coat. Later that day, a package from UPS arrived and it was labeled personal, Dr Miller, so Marge just threw it on her desk.

Credence did not really expect Dr Miller to call back, but she just wanted her to start thinking about the time that she had helped a girl in trouble.

It was after the office staff had gone home before she had a chance to open it. Inside was a cell phone and letter that said, “Get on the freeway headed toward Salem and call me at speed dial one.”

Jane Miller began to suspect the identity of the mysterious person and immediately left her charting to see what could be done. Credence had done the best she could to not be traced by the Dr Haroon’s cronies or anyone else for that matter.

On the way south on the I-5, Sally dialed speed 1, and waited for an answer. As soon as Credence picked up, Sally recognized her voice. “Credence, how are you, can we meet somewhere?” She said.

“Yes, I had hoped you would want to; how about at the first rest stop out of town?”

“Oh yes, I know exactly where it is”

“OK” Credence said and then hung up. Sally did not know how paranoid to be about it, but she shut the phone off too.

Sally pulled into the rest stop at Aurora and parked. She just sat there for a moment, and then got out to use the rest room. Credence was waiting when she came out. They compared notes and agreed to stay in touch. In spite of all the caution, Credence did not notice that she was being watched from a distance.

The man had followed Jane, not Credence.

Credence and Fred’s relationship had deepened over the weeks. They were falling in love with each other. Fred knew it but Credence was still afraid. Fred hoped that as time went on, Credence’s fears would diminish. Fred was taking her to see a live play and she wanted a new dress. She wanted to surprise him. He'd mentioned he needed to have his suit cleaned and Credence volunteered to drop it off for him.

The last weeks had felt wonderful. They'd seen each other almost every day. Credence and he had not had sex but the temptation was growing to almost intolerable levels. His kisses inflamed her desire in a way that she found most disturbing. She so wanted to be genuine and chaste however she did not know how she'd stay that way if all this kept up.

She'd passed the dress shop on the way to town several times and today yielded to the urge to go in. Almost as soon as Credence walked into the shop, she saw a beautiful, light mauve, frothy gown, which seemed to draw her with an irresistible force. It was strapless, with a deeply cut heart shaped bodice and cut so low in back that it just began to reveal the upper end of the cleavage between the cheeks of her derriá¨re. She tried to walk past it but found herself drawn to it so strongly that it almost frightened her. Credence could not know that part of this drive originated with some changes the Doctor made to her genetics.

In addition to what humans were born with, he'd added several hundred more pairs of chromosomes programmed to make specific items of clothing and certain situations very attractive to her. In a way, he'd made her a slave to his desires. It had taken him many tries to make the new genetic train stable. He'd found that certain chemicals could cause it to break down and had thus given her a strong revulsion for them. Still, he knew that her life could be shortened since exposure was inevitable. The Doctor had been working on a fix for all that when he'd been killed.

As she walked around the gown, she could feel her nipples pointing and she even felt tension between her thighs. This felt embarrassing and her face began to flush hotly. As she touched the full skirt of the floor length gown she began to feel her vision pulsate. She was going to faint, she thought for a moment. Had the doctor continued his work, he'd have known he could turn that reflex like response down quite a lot and still get an acceptable reaction.

"May I help you? A woman said. Credence jumped with surprise. She hadn't heard the woman approaching.

"I love this gown." Credence said. She'd intended to say something else or nothing, anything but that. Though the feelings and camaraderie between women was perfectly normal, Credence had not yet become accustomed to dealing with them and often left her somewhat breathless and confused.

"Would you like to try it on?" She said. The sales woman's friendly manner began to calm Credence. She could feel her face begin to cool somewhat.

"Oh, could I please?" She said. Again Credence hadn't intended to say that but felt compelled to do so. Had the Doctor been a woman, he'd have known a simple pleasurable excitement would have sufficed. She felt so propelled by deep emotions. It was as if she were on some drug.

As the woman moved the gown to the changing room, she picked a package off one of the stands as she walked by. Credence hadn't seen what it was.

When she hung the gown in the room, she turned to leave and then handed Credence the package. "You'll need these." She said. "Oh and when you get it on, I'll show you how to keep it up." She finished. Her voice sounded light with slight bemusement.

Credence found she had to discard her bra. She'd known that before hand. In the package she found little adhesive crescents to hold her breasts up. She applied them after some hesitation and was pleased with the results. Credence tried to push her panties and panty hose down so they wouldn't show in back but finally had to discard the panty hose also. She couldn't do without the panties. The dress was on now but each time she moved, she could feel it slip.

Sighing, she pushed the curtain back and stepped out into the room. "I think the dress is too large." Credence said. The sales woman looked at it a bit and then said, "Let me help you. It does take a bit of adjustment." She deftly reached inside the waistband at the side and located a small ribbon. She pulled it a little and Credence felt it tighten. She repeated the procedure on the other side.

Now the dress felt as if it would not slide off Credence's hips. But how would she keep that top from falling away and exposing her breasts? Then the woman pulled the top away from her breasts and began spraying something all over her breasts and torso.

"That feels so cool. What is it?" She asked. It is the same adhesive that beauty contestants use to keep those skimpy swimsuits in place. She allowed it to dry for a moment and then pressed the top back into place, intimately molding it to Credence's breasts. In the more intimate areas, she showed Credence how to do it. That was much less embarrassing.

She deftly slipped some inch wide steel bones into the sides of the dress, threading them up and through pockets Credence hadn't noticed beside the bodice of the dress. When she finished, Credence felt sure the gown would stay in place. She invited Credence to walk around the shop wearing the gown.

The woman seemed astonished at how good Credence looked in it. "My gosh, you look just like a model." She exclaimed. Credence just loved the gown. The sales woman called a friend and asked them to come over and take pictures. It all happened like a whirlwind.

Credence quickly realized the gown had a train that she needed to manage. It was too low in front, dragging on the floor until the woman handed Credence her own three-inch heels. That helped but she'd have to purchase shoes, which matched the gown.

Suddenly, Credence was standing in the middle of the mall posing for photographs. By the time it was over Credence was quite shaken by all the attention. The dress would be ready in a few days.

When she returned to pick it up, it was in a huge plastic bag. Credence was fully occupied with getting it out the door, down the mall and into her car. She did not notice the man go into the store after she left. It was the same man who’d spied on her at Aurora.

The play that night was wonderful. Fred was so attentive that Credence didn't know what to do. Afterward, they ran into some of Fred's friends and stopped at a well-known restaurant for late night desert.

Credence wanted to go home to change but Fred wouldn't allow it. It felt odd having Fred become so assertive with her. On one side she wanted her own way but on the other his audacity gave her a sense of security she'd never felt before.

The couple was very nice and about Fred and Credence's age. Tom was a Software writer and Anne was a Pediatrician.

Credence and Anne immediately liked each other. Tom and Fred had grown up together in St Louis.

Credence and Anne made the boys exchange seats so they could talk while the boys chatted about football and hunting. Anne was not as tiny as Credence and at first seemed envious that Credence fit in the gown so pleasantly. She'd insisted that Fred loan his suit coat to her to put around her shoulders since her lace shawl felt too revealing for the surroundings.

They talked about how they met their men, where they went to school and all that until Credence became uneasy. Credence realized she could not remember much of her childhood. She related that she'd been in an accident and could not remember much. In fact, Credence realized with a shock, some of her adolescent memories were of playing football or other activities usually reserved for boys.

Credence began to feel shaky and she felt herself slipping off into one of those dreams. "Oh no, I'm sorry." She said as she sagged back in the seat. It was just a moment, less than 5 seconds but when Credence returned, the others had looks of concern on their faces. Credence for once could remember becoming disconnected this time and hastily concocted an excuse, which the boys believed, but Anne did not.

In the coming weeks, Anne and she would become fast friends and Anne would help her through so much. She would need the help because there were those who were still searching for her. Credence was still very wary of too much disclosure.

Credence had to promised to return to the shop with the dress just one more time to show a potential customer. Credence wondered why the customer didn't just try it on herself. Soon she would know the customer wanted to buy Credence, not the dress.

Once Credence was again in the dress, the woman who was new to her, acted strangely for a moment and then asked Credence to step to the back of the store for adjustments to the gown. Credence thought it looked just fine but the woman persuaded her that some improvements could be made.

Credence had been sipping on some delicious white wine the woman had offered her. She hadn't seen the powder the woman had slipped into the glass. Credence began to feel detached and very mellow. It had overtaken her so suddenly that she'd not thought anything of it.

She obediently placed her arms, folded in the small of her back and allowed the woman to bind them securely there with 3" wide pink ribbon wrapped many times around her arms and her elbows. "Why are you doing that?" Credence asked. When she finished, Credence could not move her arms at all. "This will help you hold your breasts out more." She said.

Then she began placing a tiara with an attached veil on Credence's head. Folding the veil back, the woman suddenly inserted a gag in Credence's mouth and tied it firmly in place.

Credence now too drugged to know she was in danger, simply stood there. She began to slip into one of those waking dreams but this time it did not alarm her.

Credence lay there looking at the ceiling the same way she'd done for two weeks or two months, she didn't know. It could have been two days or two years for all she knew.

She'd wakened after going to bed in her apartment, in this room. It had no windows or doors and appeared to have translucent walls because there were no light fixtures but it was not dark. The walls and floor were soft and warm, interrupted only by a toilet, which flushed its self and a spigot which dispensed some sort of drink through a small tube which engaged in the hole in the thing which gagged her, making any sound at all impossible.

Her hands were encased in very soft bowling ball-sized things linked together by a flexible rod about three feet long. She was athletic enough to bend so she could put the rod in front or in back but no matter how she left it when she went to sleep, it was always behind her when she wakened.

Her feet were also encased in the same sort of arrangement but the balls were flat on the bottom and while she could not see her feet, they felt as if she were wearing impossibly high heels.

Her long hair, now hip length, was always brushed out when she wakened. Other than her hair, Credence was completely nude.

She also knew that somehow, someone was exercising her when she slept because she'd felt some slight soreness a few times when she'd wakened and she knew that her muscle tone would have by now completely deteriorated if she was not some how getting some exercise.

Credence felt as if her wakening periods were several hours long at a time. She'd not heard anything since she'd been there and not been able to say anything either.

Out of boredom and fear, Credence had cried herself to sleep many times. Now even that emotion seemed to be absent.

A distant click and then a low rumbling startled her. Perhaps now she would find out what was happening to her.

Suddenly, Credence found herself back in the dress shop. A man of some foreign nationality was talking. His accent was thick but Credence could not tell what it was. "This woman will make a very nice addition to my family. I will pay the price you ask but you are responsible to deliver her to my plane at the airport." He said. He wore his own national dress and Credence was not that familiar with Geography but she guessed him to be Indian or Arab. His voice sounded cultured and likeable but Credence hadn't yet understood she was to become his slave.

They'd been discussing Credence for a long time, negotiating her fate as she stood dumbly in the background. Credence noticed the discarded sacks of fast food and the empty coffee cups. They had no idea the drug was wearing off.

Credence still felt very groggy but felt aware enough to know his intentions. They seemed unaware that Credence was waking up. She looked at the clock on the wall at the back of the store. It was five minutes until twelve. She'd planned to meet Fred at the Macdonald's for lunch. If she could somehow get there perhaps he could help her.

Nearly hysterical, shaking like a leaf, Credence looked around. She was standing right by the curtain which lead to the front of the store and beside it was the main electrical panel. The door was open. Credence didn't know how she knew some things but she knew that if she could trip the main breaker the whole store would be dark. She also knew that with any luck, the emergency lights would not work. They usually didn't. She didn't have time to ponder how she knew these things if she were going to save herself. Still she wasted important seconds wondering about her past life.

Suddenly she thought, "I must snap out of this."

They were deep in conversation in the little office and seemed to have forgotten Credence. The panel was close. She simply turned and used her chin to pull the lever down. She could feel her skin breaking but the gag helped a little. In spite of excruciating pain, Credence shut the main breaker off. The building was now dark and the people in the office were shouting with alarm and anger.

Credence slipped through the doorway out into the store and began stumbling toward the front entrance, knocking over racks and displays as she went. The closer she got to it the more light from the mall illuminated her flight. In a flurry of activity, she managed to make her way to the front of the store, out the door and began stumbling toward Macdonald's.

She had just sighted Fred standing there when someone grabbed her and began dragging her backward. In a last desperate effort, Credence kicked a display, knocking it over and breaking the glasses on it. The attendant began shouting and the last thing Credence saw was Fred's face turning toward her.

Suddenly she was in another world again. Credence had no idea that the experience she was remembering was not real at all but had happened in a cyber space created by the Doctor to program his patients.

Now the restraints were gone. Credence sat in a huge bedroom on a beautiful canopy bed with pink and mauve flowers on the bed spread. She wore a huge white gown made from some sort of silken material.

The lace collar was high and stiff from a backing sewn into it. It flowed into pleated shoulders made puffy from padding and then down onto sleeves which were loose above the elbow but skin tight down her wrists. The sleeves ended in a frothy flower petal like arrangement, which just allowed her fingertips to protrude. The skirt of the voluminous gown was several feet longer than she was tall. She surmised that a long gown was in some ways better than chains and shackles. The Doctor thought them to be much prettier.

Growing curious, she stood and almost fell. She was wearing heels so high it was difficult to balance. Leaning back against the bed to steady her self, Credence wrestled the hem of the gown up off the floor, attempting to get a look at her shoes. It took a lot of effort to get the voluminous, billowing petticoats under control but finally she could just see her toes and then one of the shoes. They were pumps with about 5" heels. She must just be weak from inactivity.

Credence's head was clearing somewhat now and she began to get curious about her surroundings. She quickly found that the front of her skirts must be picked up to move at all. There were no hoops. Her very bouffant skirt was that way due to many yards of frothy petticoat. It was difficult to pick up her petticoats because her sleeves tangled her fingers so much and the gown was so overly long.

She looked with wonder at her fingers. Her nails were at least an inch long and had a metallic mauve finish. They were difficult to manage but were so pretty that she simply loved them.

Still, Credence managed to explore her new surroundings extensively that day. She had no idea that her whole world existed only in cyber space. If she'd known that she still would have thought it very beautiful.

On the balcony outside the bedroom, she felt as if she were thousands of feet high. Looking around, it appeared that the balcony was one of many on a huge tower like castle on a flat plain, which seemed without end.

Credence suddenly returned to the real world. She was lying on the floor with many people around her. Fred was holding her in his arms. The look of concern on his face made her feel warm and safe.

Fred was dabbing at the blood running from her chin. He'd removed the gag.

A questioning look was crossing his face. "Oh Fred, they were going to sell me to some rich foreigner." She said. Credence suddenly began to weep in huge breathless sobs.

Suddenly the police arrived. "We followed a woman and two men into that dress shop over there. The men made it out the back door to his limousine but we caught them." He said. The police officer was obviously looking at Credence in unveiled admiration. "We'll need you to make out a complaint. I think it will start with attempted kidnapping. How did your chin get cut? Were they torturing you?" He asked.

Credence felt so comfortable lying there in Fred's arms that she'd forgotten that her arms were still bound behind her. "Oh dear, I'm still tied up. No, I broke my skin on the main breaker in the panel rather than go to Timbuktu with that bearded lover boy." She said.

Dabbing at the blood flowing from her chin, Fred held her gently while he kissed her forehead.

The men were obviously enjoying Credence's compromised position. "Will one of you perverts please untied me." She said. She seemed so serious, but then broke into a smile. "I'll stay here in your arms though." She said. Everyone broke out laughing. It seemed to break the tension.

Suddenly, Credence was bawling again. They quickly got her on her feet and used hastily procured scissors to cut the ribbon off her forearms.

"Credence, you need someone to protect you. You should be married." He said. Fred's voice sounded serious.

Credence looked at him curiously for a moment, feeling her insides doing funny things. A grin crept across her face beneath her mussed hair. "Why Fred, is that a serious proposal?" She said. Her voice revealed that she was not taking him seriously. Then she looked into his eyes. He was serious!

"Why, yes it is." He said.

"Fred, would you really? We have to talk." She said.

"No we don't," He said.

"You can go up the aisle on your own feet or in a sack." He said emphatically.

Much later, they'd finished with the police. Credence got Fred to take her home to change. The gown would need repairs and the cleaners. Fred took her to dinner.

They talked long after dinner and desert. There was laughter and tears also. Credence told Fred what she suspected about her past. Fred found it hard to believe but agreed not to press marriage any more until Credence knew more.

During the last few weeks, John had managed to find out that the accident in the tunnel had killed the man she’d been, but could not find any burial records. Later, he found that the body had been donated to a local Medical University. Credence had been afraid to inquire much because she did not know how safe it would be for her to do so. She suspected that he’d had a family and now Credence certainly wanted to make sure that they were taken care of.

Fred had been keeping much closer watch on Credence now, and his friend John was a big help. John was one of those people whose demeanor really chilled Credence, although when he’d first gotten to town, the two had greeted each other like brothers. The love in Fred’s voice for Credence was obvious when he introduced her to John.

John’s hand was like a huge rough pillow, and her hand looked tiny there. “So, you can’t stay out of trouble eh?” He said. His tone of voice nearly made her wet her panties.

“Oh, no sir…I mean yes sir…I mean I don’t know how it happens?” She said in her little girl voice.

Credence felt little along side Fred, who was well over 6 feet tall, but John made Fred look short. Credence found she felt so timid that she almost hid behind Fred.

Then John and Fred went into his office, pointedly shutting the door on Credence. She stood there huffing when Alice, the book keeper said to her, “Oh those guys and their boy talk. Come on honey, lets go have coffee and leave them here.”

Credence was still huffing as she left the office with Alice but the woman quickly had her laughing and feeling less left out.

Later that night, Fred took Credence to dinner while John set about getting himself settled. It took him a while to sooth Credence’s pride.

“You MEN just shut the door on me; how could you?” she asked. Credence could not help sounding like an offended teen.

“Habibti, you don’t need to know much about John or what he will be doing, trust me.” He said.

Feeling coy, Credence asked, “What does Habibti mean?”

“Oh, it is an Arab word for darling or sweetheart.”

Credence felt her body doing strange and wonderful things as she absorbed the meaning of the word.

Fred reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a little leather-covered case. Credence's heart began to pound and her face felt as if it were on fire. A shrill squeak was all she could manage.

"Credence, I won't push you any more. But when you are ready, this is waiting for you." He said. His voice sounded so solemn.

Credence couldn't talk at first. She began to sob so hard it scared Fred. Several minutes and a pile of napkins later, Fred could see the joy in her face.

"Will you marry me"

"Oh, yes I will fred! I thought that you would want to wait until we knew more."

"I love you, and that is all I need to know."

"Oh my face, Fred, look what you've done to me. You should be ashamed." She said.

"You don't have to be such a bawl baby about it." He said. His eyes revealed his usual mirth.

Credence had worn a longish slim skirt and a horizontally striped turtleneck sweater. She followed Fred's gaze down toward her breasts and could see that her nipples were happily pointing at him. She reached over and slapped him. "I knew I should have worn a thicker bra." She said.

"I like what I'm seeing." He said.

I really thought two chapters would do it, but I suppose not.

*********************************************

© 2001 by Credence Browne, lately called Gwen Brown. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.

The Natural Slave

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Other Keywords:

Bondage

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

This will be a look inside a demented, but harmless mind.
It has to do with guilt, security and love. ~Gwen

The Natural Slave
By Gwen Brown
Copyright December 23, 2007

I sat on the park bench in the early fall. I had been having a relatively good time with casual friends and I felt financially secure now that my early retirement had finally begun. I watched the ducks playing in the water across the lake. The sun shone gently through the canopy of foliage over my head as I watched people walking by.

The cool wind wafted through my hair and around my neck. Oddly, my floor length skirt made me feel warm and gave me as much security as clothing could. I tried not to think of the last three very painful years, yet vaguely haunting thoughts wafted through my consciousness like some Valkyrie waiting to harvest my soul.

The couples were especially painful to watch for, though I had casual friends, there was no one special and I really wanted that badly. I felt that I would do almost anything for someone to carry me home and make me his; make me feel secure. I wasn’t thinking specifically of being in chains, but I could easily fantasize about cooking, cleaning and being held by him. I imagined that he would take me to bed at night to ravage me, to make me his and make me his. As I thought about it, I felt myself moisten and that broke my dark chain of thought. After a while I gave in to the caliginous realization that my dreams were never going to come true. I stood to my feet and began slowly walking home.

Later that afternoon I walked down to the library in search of yet another ridiculous romance. I was so intent on my search that I ran right into a man just walking by the end of the aisle. My books fell to the floor and I was instantly scandalized.

“I was so clumsy sir, I am so very sorry for running into you.” My face now reddened in embarrassment.

When he turned around our eyes locked and I was so taken with his looks and and felt such discomfiture that I immediately cast my eyes down and knelt at his feet to retrieve the books. I was much closer to the floor and got them before he could. I began to stand with the books in my hands and I felt him grasp under my arm and help me up.

For reasons I could not explain, I felt absolutely subservient to this man; embarrassed also. Completely confused, I felt too lost to reason about why he had such a strong effect on me.

“Oh thank you so much sir”, I said to him in a strange little girl voice. What had happened to me? I did not even sound like myself. I immediately began the blush and cast my eyes down; feeling too powerless to even look into his eyes. He was so big and tall. He towered over me by several inches; maybe even a foot I imagined. His presence was commanding. I felt as if I really should be kneeling in front of him. What an Adonis!

With a very slight accent, he told me that he liked the way I had done that very much and he felt like I was such a natural at it. He had a broad, endearing grin on his face. At the time I had no idea what he was talking about and I left him with my face burning with humiliation. As I turned the corner to resume my book search, I could see him walking after me with a strange predatory grin on his face. I found it sort of frightening yet strangely intriguing but, I hurried out of his sight. I could get a book another day.

I spent the next several days cleaning my apartment, reading and shopping. I did not return to the library until the following Monday, doing my best to not to think about him but he kept intruding into my thoughts. I wanted to believe that I did not hope that he would be there also. When I left the library I noticed him sitting in a restaurant just across the street. My whole body rang in recognition and I pretended I had not noticed him. I thought I had been coy enough so that he would not know that I’d seen he was there. I walked out of sight only to I notice to him raising his cup to me from the corner of my eye. I felt the hotness spread across my face and down over my breasts; my nipples hardening immediately with lust. I felt so scandalized that almost ran to get away from him.

The following day I was in the grocery store shopping and as I left the milk aisle, I noticed him coming out of another aisle. I felt my flesh quicken and actually smiled at him when he gazed upon me. I could only hold his gaze for a moment and then I averted my eyes to the floor again. “Our paths cross do they not?” He asked me. He seemed amused but also very powerful and I knew that if he commanded me, I could not resist him.

“Oh, yes sir, we do. I certainly am not following you, I am sorry.”

“Are you sorry you are not following me or that I am following you?” I know that I must have looked like a deer in the headlights. I was speechless; holding my hand over my pulsing lips. I fled down the aisle with my cart and hid in the ladies restroom until I thought he was gone. As I hurried home, I thought that I saw him crossing the street down from me, but when I turned to look again, he was gone.

Tuesday, I was leaving my apartment to go to the Museum, and he was just passing by. In embarrassment and shame because my flesh had suddenly becoming wanton, I stopped and ridiculously tried to hide behind a leafless rose bush. He stopped and looked directly at me, capturing me with his warrior like eyes.

“Oh, where are you going?”

“I am going to the museum, sir.”

“Oh, then I shall escort you there.”

“Oh, sir, that will be too much trouble for you.” I moved gracefully down the steps in my Nun skirt, as a friend jokingly called it. She was constantly chiding me to wear sexier, more girly clothing. I was just too shy.

“That is no trouble at all my little one. What is your name?”

His boldness and calling me “little one” aroused my ire. “My name is Alice, and I am most definitely not your little one.” I emphasized little one with all the venom I could muster. How dare he call me little one as if I were a child!

“You could be if you liked me well enough.”

“Oh you, we don’t even know each other.” I spat.

He was walking along side me, and the next thing I knew he’d placed my hand on his arm. I was so thrilled. It felt as if my hand belonged there. But, feeling he was far too confident, I removed it in spite of my strong desire to leave it right where he'd placed it.

“What did you remove your hand for? I thought you rather liked it there. At least I know that I did.”

I was too flustered to answer. I hid my brilliantly red face from him.

As we passed a coffee shop, he said, “Let me buy you coffee to make up for my being too forward.”

It did not sound like a request but a statement of certainty and somehow he steered me into the shop. He guided me around to a table in a dim corner in the back, with lots of privacy. He held the chair while I sat down. I felt as if my will had flown away.

Seating himself, the waiter approached. He ordered Coffee, black. And then cast an appraising gaze upon me. I was about to order Coffee two crá¨mes and two sugars, but before I could he did it, ordering exactly what I wanted.

Feeling nonplussed, I asked him, “How did you know I drank coffee that way?” I was about to chide him harshly for being so presumptuous but he cut me off.

“I looked into that sweet face, knowing how tense and lonely you are and decided that was best for you.”

Feeling real anger at his presumptiveness, I took a deep breath, getting ready to lash out at him. He cut me off again. I shut my gaping mouth since it seemed as if I was not going to be permitted to speak.

“Your name is Alice Brown. You have three children and are recently divorced, but you are starting to heal from the loss. The proceedings went badly for you and you were made to look very bad, and were unfairly treated. You lost everything, and your family have dishowned you completely. The other day when I first saw you in the park watching the Ducks, I saw a truly forlorn woman and felt that she needed someone in her life. As it turns out, so do I. My maid and companion died, a long time ago and I got along with out her but now, since seeing you, I have decided I need a replacement.”

He had such a huge smile on his face, I felt as if he must be joking with me about needing a maid.I had been sitting there waiting for an opening but by the time he had finished, tears were flowing freely down my cheeks. How did he know so much about me?

“You are lost and alone. Your partner, your soul mate, the one you though you would die beside has deserted you. Am I missing anything?”

I could not speak. I was too overcome. I sat there, completely blinded by my hot, burning tears. My nose was completely closed and I was getting a monstrous headache; one of those that completely disabled a person.

“This new life you are living is vastly different from your old one and required significant intervention to begin. They have labelled you with horrible unfairness, not caring at all for your own inner needs. You now need someone to love and care for you; giving you back at least some of what you so selflessly gave others for many years.”

I felt tiny and helpless. He knew all about my deepest secrets, I just knew it. My breath left me and I began to sob in great gasps. I felt as if I could easily die and I wanted to do just that so badly just then.

“I also know that you gave yourself to others in your old life and your family does not appreciate it. In fact they have disowned you. In your new life, you continue to sacrifice greatly to others; to the point that it is threatening your health.”

With that I began to get up to leave, but he clamped my wrist and told me to sit. I dropped back into my seat with a thump. I felt as if I were his captive; like a butterfly on a board; a pin piercing my very soul.

I tried to wrest my hand from him but his grip was firm but not harsh. Everything he said was true though I could not understand how he could find out so much about me in such a short time. He kept me at the table until I had wept my last. My eyes were as red as beacons, and my makeup was a complete disaster. As I calmed, I began to wonder how I was to get home without making a spectacle of my self.

“We need to talk more, and I have a proposition for you. After all, what do you have to lose? I will escort you to my house, and we can talk in private.”

“I can’t do that. I don’t know you; I don’t even know your name.” I said weakly. My voice lacked conviction; I knew it and so did he.

I am Faisal Alotabie, once from Saudi Arabia, but now from no where.

He didn’t say anymore but looked at me like the wolf looked at the sheep. He carried an air of command about him, as if he must be obeyed. Deciding, I reached into the bottom of my purse, pulling out my scarf. I always carried it and a tiny, ridiculously sized umbrella, during the winter. I covered my head with the pretty scarf and pinned it with a Hijab pin; a left over from my infatuation with Islam; another heart wrenching chapter in my life.

He came round and slid my chair back as I stood. He turned me to face him and pulled my scarf forward to almost cover my face. He lifted my chin, “Look at me”, He said. “Your journey is over. You will be my little one. No one will see your red eyes with the cover of the Hijab.”

I wanted to protest; to resist this huge man. I knew that my present life was purposeless without someone to serve and to care for me. I let him lead me from the Coffee Shop like a child.

His home was on the side of the hill above the city but within walking distance of my tiny apartment. He led me up the steps and held the door for me to enter. His house was huge and grandly appointed. Many of his furnishings seemed to be from the Middle East. Where the dinning room should have been was a huge, exceedingly thick, fur like carpet with a low table set in the middle of it. There were numerous fat pillows around it. He continued to lead me about the house. The Kitchen was wonderfully modern with appliances in it that I could never afford. There was a wonderful stove with two huge convection ovens. A wonderful Refrigerator stood on the other side of the huge, double sink.

He led me into another room which overlooked his back yard. It was a wonderfully landscaped place with much privacy. I could actually hear birds through the door he opened.

We walked back through the house and into another wide open room with a vaulted ceiling. He must do a lot of entertaining, I thought.

Then he led me into a room that seemed as large as the rest of the house. Along one wall was a huge bed, larger than a King size. There were numerous steel loops hanging on it in various locations and I assumed that they were for decoration. He allowed me to walk around in this room as he watched me. As I passed around the bed, looking at the dressers and closets, I noticed a chain running under the bed and it appeared to be attached to something. Turning, I looked at him. His gaze held nothing but mirth, but I felt like he knew what I had seen under the bed. Perhaps he has a pet that sleeps with him I thought, trying to avoid what I really thought. This chilled and excited me at the same time. I was afraid of him but deliciously drawn to him too. I quickly looked away, not wanting him to see the need painted upon my face.

There was a kitchen, dinning room, bedroom, lots of room to entertain, what more could a girl want?

He led me into a room with a huge sofa with lots of pillows, and a wet bar. I let him ply me with liquor. He made this wonderful drink that tasted like fruit punch. The liquor in it was almost undetectable. One of those and he pushed me into a sitting position on the floor in front of him. I was not a drinker but remembered what my parents drank when I was a child. He began to massage my neck and shoulders and it did not take long for me to lack any will of my own before him. He carried me off to his huge bed. I was so relaxed, I did not object. I do not remember anything afterward.

In the morning, I wakened to the sound of soft Middle Eastern Music with that strange beat that used to make me feel like dancing sensuously. I was alone. I could smell coffee and something else cooking; pancakes perhaps. I half expected to smell bacon but I didn’t. I assumed that it was he who was cooking. I was so warm and comfortable beneath the covers that I lazed there half awake for a while until my bladder began to complain bitterly. I did not want to move but with my needs I knew I must.

I threw the covers back and something on my wrists seem to limit my motions and as I sat up, I could feel something strange upon my neck. I quickly looked down to see leather shackles on my wrists with a short chain between them. Suddenly alarmed, I felt at my neck and found a collar about it. The chain I had seen was now attached to me. Oh my God, I am almost naked save for tiny bikini panties and a sort of soft mesh cape with coins hanging from it.

I began to scream as loud as I could but no one came. I had to do something or I was going to wet the bed. Maybe there was a bed pan, I reasoned. Looking over the side of the bed, I found what I was looking for under the edge, along with some tissue. I gave up some of my dignity and used the pan, carefully setting it back under the bed.

I called out again, “Hello, can anyone hear me? Please let me go?” I called and called until I was hoarse, but no one came. This frightened me terribly and I began to cry fearfully. As my sobbing was approaching full cry, he came into the room wearing only a loin cloth and a smile but carrying a tray with food on it.

Still weeping piteously, I cried out, “Oh, please sir, don’t hurt me? Please let me go? I won’t say anything?”

“Calm, my little one, I do not intend to hurt you at all but to care for you and nurture you; helping you to become the woman you were meant to be.”

“But why am I almost naked and chained?” My voice shook with fear. “I don’t even know your name, and now you throw me into a bed in chains? And how am I supposed to know what misbegotten advantage you took of me?”

“Oh, but you misinterpret the intention of your captivity little one. I have watched you for a long time; years actually. I saw the pain you lived in during your old life. One would have thought that those close to you would have understood and helped ease your pain. But, they failed you. I did not take advantage of you last night, except to put you into suitable clothing.”

“I am so afraid, please release me?” I sobbed.

“After you are here a while you will recognize that captivity is exactly what you need to protect you from yourself.” After begging and pleading wore me out, he fed me and then held me until I stopped quivering in his arms.

"You will find your chains to be liberating and not captivity. A woman like you works so hard to meet the needs of others. Finally after too many years of toil, your strength runs out until you fail completely. Those around you, used to being spoiled by you, react with anger toward you, and hurt you so much you no longer wish to live. I have taken the freedom of others to abuse you away from them."

After I was sufficiently relaxed, he took me into a huge lounge and bath area. He released my bonds and said that I should get into the bath. As soon as he let me go, I ran as fast as I could for the door. I found it locked. He sat on the other side of the room smiling. Something within me wanted to yield meekly to him, while another side of my being resented the loss of my personal freedom. I walked back to him and stood in front of him.

“You have no choice but to trust me, or at the very least yield to me.”

Sinking to the floor in front of him, I said. “I am so frightened. No woman in her right mind would be acquiescent to this situation. How can you expect me to?”

“Look deeply within, little one. Tell me truthfully that this is not what you want inside”

“I don’t want to be a captive. Do you expect me to be your slave?”

“Is that what you wish; to be my slave? Talk no more or I shall gag you and put you in a cage. You need to think this thing through, to question your very heart's desire. Are you not weary of all your struggles? In the country of my youth, women are nurtured and protected. A woman like you would not have been exposed to such torment."

I didn’t know if he would gag me but he had certainly already chained me once. I held my peace. After a while he motioned me toward the bath. With no further complaint allowed, I yielded to him and went to bathe. I lay there, deep in thought. He said that he had watched me for years? How could he have done that without my observing him? I soaked in the hot scented water until I felt like jelly. Climbing out, I sat on the edge and began to dry myself. A suspicion began to seem into my consciousness. There was a man who I seemed to encounter at odd times; could this be he? The door opened and in walked a girl about 25 who was as naked as I.

“Hello Master, she called out to him.” He smiled at her but said nothing. She was tiny, short and trim, with ample, proud, breasts. I noticed rings in her nipples. She had no body hair except on her head.

She walked over to me and began setting out oils, crá¨mes, brushes and some very brief clothing.

“Hello, I am Sarah. What is your name?”

“I’m Alice. How long have you been here? Is it safe here?”

“I have never felt in danger, unless I disobeyed Master. Then he spanked me.” She giggled and her cheeks reddened, not with embarrassment but with what seemed to be happy anticipation.

I was astonished when she began to dry my hair and brush it. She rubbed me down with oils and crá¨mes, first laying me face up and then face down. She gave me a full massage, leaving me in a stupor. I wanted to talk to her, to plot escape. She only changed the subject and suggested that I enjoy the life in the Master’s house. I was dozing when I suddenly awakened. She had fastened my wrists in shackles again and then sat on me as she did the same to my ankles.

“What have you done? I don’t want to be chained like this.”

She only looked at me with a smirk and waved a ball with two straps on it in front of my face. She did not need to say anything to make me silent. Could I have bested her in struggle? I did not have the will to try.

“You have no reason to be frightened. No harm will befall you. You will be trained and taught to obey, however.”

In the next few days, I fell into the routine that Master set for me. Master and I talked for hours. I was not allowed to complain, under penalty of the Gag or the cage. He only needed to Gag me and put me in the cage once to make me obedient. I wondered why I did not fight him more. At the time I reasoned that I had no control of my circumstances. Was it simpler than that? The time stretched into weeks and then months. I had asked about my apartment and my things but he merely deflected my question with another.

”Do you really want your things?” He asked. At first I protested within the limitations I was allowed. Enough of that horrid cage, I reasoned.

He began taking Sarah and I to the movies or other activities. Once he took us to the beach and we romped there in the warm sun, he in his trunks and we girls in the briefest of thong style bikinis. I was at first very self conscious, but Sarah seemed completely oblivious to the jealous stares of other women and the unveiled lust of other men.

It was then that I discovered that Sarah had labia rings. Gasping in shock, I asked her when he’d put those in her. She looked at me incredulously for a moment. “He didn’t put them in me. The men who had me captive and addicted to drugs did it. He even asked me if I wanted to be rid of them, but I’d had them so long that I decided to keep them.”

“You mean he did not rape you and force them on you?”

“Master? No way would he do that!” she said. You will give yourself to him or remain chaste.”

I hesitated, afraid to ask. “Have you not been raped by him.”

“Alice, I don’t have anything to rape. I was doing dope so long that I lost all my teeth. I had so much damage down there that I had to let them remove all that or die. The dope took my ability to respond sexually. All my teeth are implants. My face is all either plastic surgery or chemically peeled. I lost one kidney. They got my Liver going well enough to work but I have to avoid anything that would damage it. I owe my very life to Master. It goes much deeper than that.”

I was astonished. I had much to think about.

That night, I lay at his side, chained by my neck. He was huge and warm and made me feel secure. When I knew he was relaxed, I reached for his chest and pulled myself up on him. I put my face into the crook of his neck and began to kiss him all over. With my right hand, I reached down and grasped him. It was already semi hard.

It didn’t take long for him to take command of the situation. He forced me onto my back and was soon punishing me with his rod. This went on for a long time until we were both exhausted.

“Was that nice, my little one?”

Oh yes, Master, it was lovely.

I lay there as I listened to his even breaths. He had never forced me, but waited for me to come to him. He plied me with gentleness and security. I now willingly wore his chains. I am his. With a blush creeping onto my cheeks, I knew this was the security I had been seeking.

I am a Natural Slave, at least for now.

The End

Pray Happy For You

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

Short-short < 500 words

Genre:

Transgender

TG Elements:

Partial Transformations

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

I wrote this late at night, worn out from a very disappointing day. All I knew, and it is my only Anchor, was that my suffering is no different from others I know here. I was in utter despair with tears flooding my vision. Much to my total astonishment, some of you enjoyed it. I am non-plused by your reactions, but thank you.

I had not realized that there were several transwomen here who found themselves at an early age. My happiness for you.

To all those who have faced the horror of coming against a society that does not understand. Pray happy for you.

To all those who have been beaten half to death because of something you did not do. Pray happy for you.

To all those who have been befriended and later rejected because you told them. Pray happy for you.

To all those who have lost everything over a biological thing that they did not create. Pray happy for you.

To all those who have faced condemnation from those who say that God is against them. Pray happy for you.

To all those who do not have the chutzpah to go out as the real you. Pray happy for you.

To all those who will do it anyway, knowing that they face the rejection of those whose knuckles drag the ground. Pray happy for you.

To those who will lay down tonight knowing; thankful that they made it through another day. Pray happy for you.

To those who will not live through the day because of their struggles. May your bodies be washed by the tears of heaven. Pray happy for you.

Hala's Snow Day

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Character Age:

Mature / Thirty+

TG Themes:

Permission:

Permission granted to post by author

Hala’s Snow Day
By Gwen Brown

Many thanks to Holly for editing help.

Hala was entirely unprepared for the snowstorm that made a major change in her life.

It was so chillingly cold this morning that I decided to wear my long, dark blue skirt suit. It had been given to me by a dear college friend who was much taller than my diminutive 5’4” and after tailoring, was just beautiful on me, except the skirt was much longer than I wanted it to be. They’d made the hips just tight enough so that the skirt sexily curved in just slightly below my butt. Sheryl used to wear her skirts really long because she was from some sort of weirdo conservative family. I had planned to have the skirt shortened a lot after Sheryl went overseas, but had never gotten around to it.

So, on the way out to my car, I almost went back in to change because the skirt was too tight, but when I looked at my watch, saw that I did not have time. I felt like I looked hot wearing it with my stiletto heeled boots. The opaque panty hose made the outfit actually quite warm. The skirt mostly covered my boots but was quite hobbling. With my short blue over coat and gloves, I felt quite happy as I minced down the street to my car. I’d also worn a white scarf fastened about my head with a very pretty jeweled Hijab pin that my grandmother had given me. I knew that the wind would destroy my long summer blond hair, even with it pinned up, if I didn’t protect it.

Grandma was from Persia, as she called it, and I never questioned it. It was said that she was Muslim, but my parents did not practice, and never taught me anything about it. Gran never told me much about it, except to say that her father had given her to a man when she was 13 and she gave him only my mom. During WWII, Gran had fled to Greece, then Gibraltar. Finally after the war, she’d somehow gotten herself and Mom to the US.

Grace and I worked quite closely together. A friend from childhood, she had come to work with me when I began to feel too overwhelmed with the details and my creativity began to wane. So, even though I was the owner of my company, she effectively ran Starlight, Inc., so I could do what I did best. Much of the time she simply took care of me, though she was very careful not to interfere with or offer unsolicited opinions on my debaucheries and dating.

Work was quite busy all day, and Grace made sure that someone brought lunch to the conference room where we were working. We finally finished the project at almost 8:00PM and I got ready to go home. One of the other women said that her husband was coming to get her since the weather was so bad, but it just did not register with me. I was so focused on some of the ideas we’d had, that I putzed around in my office for almost an hour before I realized how late it was.

I’d gotten distracted thinking about the latest man I’d dated. I’ll have to admit that I liked to try new things and liked exploring new ideas. I’d danced seductively on the bars in New York in front of men at New Years Eve parties while wearing no more than a couple ounces of clothing. I’d wakened in the occasional strange bed, and found myself in the bed of my own apartment wearing only a flannel shirt whose owner I had no knowledge of.

This latest guy had crossed a boundary for me though. He’d wanted to do things to me that sounded way creepy, and by my own admission, that had to be pretty alien. I don’t mind sharing a bed with a couple other people, but I don’t want to know about it when it’s happening. Yep, he was history.

I got off the elevator in the lobby and since it was so light inside, the windows were transformed to mirrors, and I did not see what awaited me outside. As I passed the front desk, the guard, Ahmed said to me,”As Salaam Alaykum, Little Sister.” I did not know what he was on about and just smiled at him. That distracted me and I did not actually look outside until I entered the turning door exit.

Good heavens, there was a lot of snow! Where did it all come from? OMG, what was I going to do? In my own mind, I am an empowered woman and was once the kind of tomboy that caused my mother to wring her hands. Just as I came out the door, one of the city snowplows passed and piled the snow in the street up as high as my hips. My car was sitting in a snowy parking lot across the street, almost invisible in near whiteout conditions. The snow was deep enough to leave just a little space under my car. I knew that I could go over there, use my little shovel to clear around the car a little, put my chains on and drive out.

The problem was the stiletto heels and restrictive clothing I was wearing. Had I known what was afoot, I would have worn my ski clothing, or at least brought it with me. I stood there feeling lost. What was I going to do? Well, I knew that I had to get over that pile of dirty looking snow to get to my little car, and I knew that the only thing I could do was get there as I was dressed. It never occurred to me to ask for help. ‘Geez, I was on the ski patrol a few times a month in the winter, I don’t need help!’ I reasoned.

I started over the barrier, my stilettos upsetting my balance because I did not know how far they would sink, and a passing truck startled me, causing me to lose my balance. I was on top of the pile now and started to fall forward into traffic, so I did a desperate pirouette to avoid that, but instead of helping, it only threw me more off balance. Just then the wind blew up a chilling cloud of snow and my scarf went down over my eyes. I suddenly fell, and my head must have hit the street or sidewalk.

As I slowly wakened, I realized that I was almost helplessly upside down with my feet sticking up in the air. My head was lying on the pavement, and looking to my right, all I could see was a wall in front of me. I just lay there dazed, too weak to move. I finally became aware that I was looking at the plow of a snowplow and the truck had stopped just short of hitting me. It had half buried me first, though. It all seemed so surreal in my stunned condition.

I heard crunching in the snow, and turned to see two feet stop at my side. I looked at them for a moment and then let my eyes move up to see what their owner looked like. He wore a black canvas coat which covered the top of his boots and it had a rain cape attached to the back. He wore a worn out looking cowboy hat with a wool cap under it. His face was lost in shadow, but I could see his long mustache.

His rugged appearance immediately made my sensual side respond. With purpose, he bent over and reached down to my side. He quickly picked me up in his arms like I was a day old lamb.

“Lady, how did ye find yourself there?” His drawl provoked images of an old time cowboy.

I just lay there in his arms, completely mesmerized by his appearance; my head still ringing from the fall. He cleared his throat as if prompting me for an answer.

“I … I, my car … I was going to my car.” I was still dazed.

“Well here, let’s get you inside until yer eggs is unscrambled.”

He effortlessly carried me back into the brilliantly illuminated lobby and set me on one of the leather couches there.

Ahmed, the elderly night guard, came over with a towel he’d gotten from who knows where.

“Here is a towel for the Little Sister.” His accent made him seem so dignified to me.

I felt like both men stood there looking at me like I was an oddity. Somehow, the errant scarf had gone the other way and was now around my neck. The tall stranger used the towel to dust the snow off me before it melted, and after a while my head began to clear. I did not feel like I had a concussion and it was not likely that the medical people were going to check me in this storm.

I tried to stand, fell back and tried once again, this time making it to my feet. Like any normal woman, I turned to use the building windows as a mirror and my disheveled look astonished me. I quickly got the scarf back in place and straightened my clothing. He finished dusting me off starting at the top of my shoulders and going clear down over my rear; the last making me tingle pleasantly. As I looked out the window the flashing lights of a parking enforcement scooter thing made the scene outside look surreal.

“Oh, my gosh, you are getting a ticket”

He quickly stepped outside to deal with the parking ticket and came back a moment later.
“Look, little girl, I don’t get a ticket if I can prove I was picking you up. Let’s go get dinner, that way I will be with you until we know you ain’t gonna be passing out or anything.”

If I had an ounce of sense, I would not have gone with him, but I was so taken by his looks, and the air of command surrounding him, and his adorable magnetic scent, that I followed meekly. Outside, he opened the door to the high truck and picking me up, depositing me inside. The easy way he handled me left me feeling so breathless. If the fall hadn’t left me senseless, the second time he picked me up left me thoroughly muddled. Gawd, he was strong and smelled mmmm good.

He was new to town, I thought, and I timidly directed him to a family restaurant down the street. I sat in his truck as it rumbled along. The engine was really noisy and the ride bumpy, but it felt like it could go anywhere he pointed it. When we got to the restaurant, he carried me inside, leaving me as giddy as a brand new bride.

“I can walk, you know!” I said, trying to sound very cross with him.

“Heh heh, you’re not doing really well so far tonight. Look, the truck is too tall for you to get in and out of, and the snow is too deep for the way you are dressed. Now behave, and let a man take care of you.”

I must have looked like a fish with my mouth gaping, because he just laughed again in that hypnotizing rumble and led me as he followed the waiter who seated us. On the outside, I was doing my best indignant act. But on the inside my tummy was doing flips. I could feel other parts of my body that I am not talking about here, similarly misbehaving.

He had chicken fried steak and I had turkey, mashed potatoes, and gravy. I had not eaten like that in like forever, but something about the atmosphere made it OK. Something about the way he talked to me made me feel like he respected me. I found out that he had been just plowing himself a parking spot in front of the building, so he could drop off a package for his sister inside.

“OMG, you forgot to leave the package for her!”

“Oh, that’ll wait until tomorrow. Look what I plowed up instead.” He looked down at me with those big blue eyes and subtle grin that could charm the pants off a school marm. My body tingled pleasantly and I could feel my face coloring hotly. I could not look him in the eyes for long.

We talked until very late that night. The restaurant shift had changed. I was going to order wine, but when he asked for coffee, I did too. I was so lost in his eyes as I listened to him talk. I had never felt that way with anyone. We even talked about children, and for once, I just said that I could not bear them; that there had been a problem when I was little.

“Don’t see a problem there; I’ve put more than one calf on a tit that wasn’t his mom’s.” With that, I vowed never to say anything.

Like a knight in shining armor, he took me back to get my car, and dropped off his brightly decorated Christmas package.

“Me and my Sister don’t talk, but I drop a package for her every Christmas. Maybe someday she’ll cool off.”

I didn’t feel right in asking him about it. He seemed really private about whatever had happened. It was just a feeling that I had.

He efficiently cleared a path to my little buried Camry and even put on the cable chains. I told him that I could get home but when he asked for my address, I gave it to him and watched him put it in his GPS.

“Now, Little Miss, follow me and I’ll make sure you get there alright.”

I knew that I was quite capable of doing it myself. I had for a while, but he just seemed so much in charge that I obeyed him. He was standing at the entrance of the garage after I pulled in and got out of my car. I felt like a giddy little school girl as I walked up to him. I wanted him to lead me to my bedroom. I’d done it many times.

He told me to “Take care now!” and turned to walk toward his truck. I stood there breathless, waiting. How could he simply walk away from me when my body was urgently screaming out its need! His feet noisily crunched the snow as he walked.

When I was about to faint from not breathing, he turned. “Hey, I’m in town for a few days. You want to go to dinner tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Yes.” What he said had been phrased as a question, but my body took it as an order from my Master. I raptly stood in the open garage door until his lights were out of sight. As I turned to walk into my house, my body quivered happily a couple times. God, what a man, sigh!

Amazingly, I fell into bed and slept soundly. My six o’clock alarm jarred me back to life. This time, I wore my ski clothing to work; changing to a simple skirt and top when I got there. Somehow, one of my Gran’s flowered scarves found its way around my head; fastened there by another of her pretty pins. The scarf fell down my back and across my little shoulders like a cape. I did not even think about why I did not wear my normal winter hat. The scarf felt nice.

It was warmer, and raining when I got off work, so rather than put my ski gear on, I just put my coat and the scarf on.

On the way out Ahmed once again said, “As Salaam Alaykum, Little Sister.”

I stopped in my tracks. “Ahmed, what are you saying to me?”

“It means, ‘Peace be with you,’” he told me.

“Why are you saying that to me?” I was confused.

“You are Persian, and when I saw you with your head properly covered, I just knew that Allah Subhanna Wala T Allah, was speaking to you.”

With a flash, I remembered that Gran had said that she was Persian. It was she who had given me dozens of those very pretty scarves along with the pins and some other very pretty jewelry.

“Ahmed, I don’t know what you are talking about.” The confusion I felt swept across my face.

“You were from a powerful tribe in Persia. I can see it in your face,” he said confidently.

Ahmed knew Gran somehow, but no one ever said much about it. Mom had always scoffed at Gran when she was told that I needed to be properly educated, and I had only heard it said once or twice. Being a teen, caught up in boys and cheerleading, those concerns seemed so distant to me.

Later, when he applied for the job with my company as a security guard, I never suspected how seriously he took his position. Now I wondered if he was guarding me personally.

As we talked, I knew that he believed what he was telling me with a fervor that he would take to his grave. No human being could shake it. I felt the rightness of his words in my inner being.

“You know nothing of your heritage, do you, Little Sister?”

“Ahmed, my Gran told me things, but my mom and dad just smiled at her. She had given up on them. It had been so long ago I had forgotten entirely.”

“Never mind, my Little Sister, Allah will guide you. The correct response is Alaykum Salaam.”

“Oh, it is sort of like Spanish, where you just repeat what was said, huh?” I must have sounded like a ditz.

Ahmed laughed softly to himself. “It is good enough for now, Little Sister. You must be going; your man will be waiting for you.”

“Ahmed, how did you …” I looked down at my watch and a little shriek left my lips. “Oh my gosh, I’m late, Good Night, Ahmed.” I ran for the door as fast as I could. The drive home left me really rattled. I only had 20 minutes until he was going to pick me up!

That night was as late as the previous one. Fortunately the next day was Saturday. I normally worked then, but at least I could sleep in. Frank dropped me at the front door, but did not ask to come in and I was somehow, inexplicably afraid to ask him. ‘What the hell is wrong with you, you happy little slut who has slept with so many men and women that she does not know how many there were?’

The next night I invited him to my home for dinner. We ate steak that he brought, and salad that I’d made. We talked for hours. He kept me enraptured with his stories about the cattle; the mountains; the snow and of his huge cabin.

His wife had died in childbirth; both she and the perfectly formed, glorious little boy that they were going to name Thomas were gone. He talked about it all quietly and calmly, but I could tell the pain it caused him was a lot to bear, so I began talking about my University parents, and my Persian Grandmother. She is a mystical yet simple woman. “She frequently called me Habiti,” I told him with a pleasant smile on my face.

He seemed really interested in her, and where she came from. He wanted to know her last name.

“Maksoud,” I told him.

Later, after midnight, we sat on the back deck for a while. We were having one of those Chinook winds. For a short while it felt like spring out there sitting in the snow among the twinkling stars and the bright crescent moon.

He told me that his mom’s maiden name had been Taweed. He said he had a sister living in Minnesota, some of whom were Muslims. His folks had both died 5 years ago in the crash of their small plane.

That night as he left, Frank said he was leaving in the morning. He’d come back when he could. I stood there not breathing; suddenly too shocked to speak. The realization that he was leaving threatened to strike me down.

Just as I shut the door, he said, “Would you think about coming to live with me sometime?”

I opened my mouth and nothing came out at first. “I … I … Oh my, I don’t know, I…”

He smiled back at me, and reached in to pull the door shut.

“Wait!” I pleaded to the shut door. I wanted him in bed with me. I wanted to lie on his chest listen to his heart beat. ‘I let him go. Why?’

I sat up the rest of the night; watched the sun come up; the deer disappear into the underbrush. I’d wrapped a sleeping bag around myself and gone back onto the deck; vainly hoping that his truck was still in sight. Wistfully, I thought that maybe I could still hear the powerful engine.

I was feeling his absence so strongly and deeply that I couldn’t think. The weight of his separation from me felt crushing to my carefree spirit. ‘He’d not taken me to bed, and I felt too shy before him to ask. I began to wonder why I had been so promiscuous, but not with him. Perhaps my past left me feeling insecure about my own femininity? Maybe he was the proof’.

Mid morning found me in my office at work. I could not think seriously about anything. I’d taken my ideas and built them into a multi million dollar a year business housed in a squat 5 story building with 61 employees. The concentration I was used to eluded me. The sound of the elevator opening brought me out of my dream state. I was standing in front of the window looking in the direction of the mountains where he lived.

Grace, my assistant came strolling through. “I thought you’d be here,” she said.

I felt detached; as though I were in another dimension from her. My ordered world suddenly lacked attraction for me. I’d not returned the calls of men I’d often partied with.

“Grace, I need to talk to you.”

“I know.” she said.

“Can you manage without me?”

“You have it that bad, do you? You’ve known him, what, two weeks?”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with him if he will have me.”

“Does he know?”

‘It was one of the first things Grace and I had talked of when we first played together as toddlers. Mom said that I was young enough. No one would ever know if I did not tell them.’ “He knows that I can not bear children,” I said.

“Yes, we were very young. We were playing on the floor with me when you told me. I was 6, you were 5. The new protocol worked, didn’t it. Yes, now they are growing wombs in the littlest ones.”

~~ § §~~

Ahmed’s wife, Sirah began visiting me; teaching me of the old ways back in Persia. She told me that her family had been Muslims and it had been a beautiful life, not like the horror that some practiced now. She and Ahmad had been married in Syria, but they were both from Persia. She told me that it was better for the Sunni in Syria. As we talked of my wedding, and the romance of hers, I wanted one just like it.

Frank came back as often as he could. We spent much time together, and I began to understand that his not sleeping in my bed was a sign of respect from him. Sirah taught me so much about her country’s ways and I began to really appreciate my heritage.

“One day, Habiti, you will want to learn to pray five times a day”, she said sincerely.

I smiled at her, secretly laughing inside, but made no sound at all, out of respect and love for her. I did not intend to actually become religious.

“You laugh now, my joyful little ring around the Moon, but we will see one day.”

Ahmad and Frank secretively started spending time alone at his house. When I’d asked him what they were doing, Frank just told me it was men’s business. I felt left out and told him so, but he just told me that Ahmad was teaching him the Way of the Husband. Frank started getting some ideas that seemed really strange to me. It turned out that Frank’s Mom had just lots of relatives in the Midwest, and it seemed that they all wanted to come to his wedding.

One night at dinner at Sirah and Ahmed’s house, Frank asked me, “Hala, are you sure that you are ready to marry me?”

“Darling, looking back, I knew the first time we met, when you picked me up from the snow bank.”

Both Ahmad and Sirah were looking on with interest, as if to see what Frank was going to tell me.

“Ya know, old Ahmad has been talkin’ to me, and things may be a little different for you after we are married.”

“Yes Frank, I will be so happy!”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that and so will I, but there are a couple things we need to agree to, according to Ahmad here.

“In what way, Frank Darling?”

“Well, according to your heritage, you and I are equal but I am just a little degree higher, because I have to protect you, you know like diggin’ you outta the snow, coyotes, robbers and all?”

“I’ll have you know, Frank, that I was doing just fine until you tried to bury me with your plow!” I said as indignantly as I could. I looked at Ahmad and Sirah, who were both maintaining conspicuous silence, and trying to look very serious.

Frank was trying to stifle an out and out roar of laughter.

“By slightly higher, that means you have to help me when I want it? I like that a lot.” I chortled happily.

“Yeah, and it also means that if I tell you that you should not even go out in some of these storms, you need to stay home.”

“And if I choose to go anyhow?” I was beginning to smell a rat here.

“Well, then, Missy, I’ll just have to discipline you?”

I could feel the blood rising in my neck and head. “And just how do you intend to do that, Mr. Johnson?”

He gave me this unsettling predatory look. “Well, I guess you’ll just get a spanking.”

I wanted to be angry but his words made my mind and body give off a little tremor. “Oh, no you won’t!” I said, trying to sound confident and empowered. I would never admit it to any of those in the room but I was of two minds on the matter. One part was screaming for empowerment, and the other was, oh, I hate to face it, even now … a tiny part of it wanted it. There I said it, Hmph!

Sirah quietly told me that he could only use a tooth pick. With a gleam of mirth in his eye, Ahmad said that it was the switch off of the bush that makes the tooth pick before it is cut up.

With that, the men laughed evilly while Sirah and I crossed our arms in front of us; feeling extremely indignant.

~~ § §~~

The next morning, I called Mom and Dad to tell them my news. I had Mom on the kitchen phone and Dad on the study phone. They were both overjoyed, eventually, but Dad asked me if the guy was nice to me and told me that if there was ever a problem, he knew people. I told them both how we met and then informed Mom in girltalk code about the other stuff. The code went right over Dad’s head. He didn’t want to talk about it or think about it. He just wanted his daughter to be happy.

Once I told Sirah that I wanted a wedding like hers, she seemed to take over my private life. She told me to worry only about my gown and she would handle the rest. She was thrilled that Grace wanted to be in the wedding, and after that I would catch them in quiet little conversations, with a lot of giggling that stopped when I came into the room.

Sirah did teach Grace and me to dance Persian Style. She even taught us some of the so-called belly dancing, but said that it was not Persian, but the men seemed to like it. She also seemed to be working on a special dance with Grace, but would not talk to me about it.

~~ § §~~

I became Hala Johnson in June. It was going to be a simple little affair at the Holiday Inn. Then when it became larger, we were thinking of renting the High School Gym. Finally we ended up at the Fairgrounds.

Gran, as old as she had become, threw a fit until Mom and Dad brought her clear from the Midwest.

It was an odd cultural mix. In one room, one could hear a country western trio singing, and in the next were strange sounding flutes, stringed instruments and Middle Eastern drums.

My wedding gown was a strapless sheath with a head to toe covering of ornate lace. There was a little gauze flap that revealed my face. It was for Frank to raise so he could kiss me. According to custom, I was not to touch it until he raised it; in fact I could not even get to it with out nearly raising the hem of the lace outer covering up to my face.

The ceremony was relatively simple, and then afterward at the cutting of our wedding cake, Grace did the Persian Knife Dance, nearly handing the knife to Frank and then it away. Everyone had a great time with the whole dance and surrounding comedy.

Frank and I went to separate tents to change to less formal clothing. Frank came out wearing western jeans, while I wore a modest dancing outfit. The women who could, including Gran for a short time, entertained the men. I was so surprised to see Mom doff her shoes and get out there too. It was just so much fun. Frank was openly leering at me, so I danced over there so I could really entice him.

“Keep that up, Little Girl, and yer gonna be in trouble”

“And if I get in trouble, Husband, what will you do?” I said, openly enticing him.

I had turned away from him and suddenly found myself picked off my feet and across his knee. He paddled me just enough to make a lot of noise, and make my bottom burn slightly and then set me on my feet in front of him.

We both laughed and I slipped away from him, to force him to chase me.

There were several large tents set up and then there was a tiny tent set up inside one of the large tents. Then one of my mom’s cousins started the rumor around that the bride and groom were to spend their night in the little tent with all the guests sleeping in the tent around it.

When I found out, I protested, and several of my male relatives picked me up, carrying me toward the door of the small tent. I did not understand this custom, and Sirah, who was not in sight at the time, had told me nothing about it! Completely scandalized, I began to scream at the top of my lungs; and fighting them as hard as I could.

Frank was separated from me by the crowd and had a strange leer on his face. The next thing I knew the western players and the Persian players had teamed up and were playing this licentious sounding song to the sound of heavy Middle Eastern drum beating.

“Frank, help me!” I screamed, but he did nothing. That was when I became completely hysterical; my words became incoherent and everyone could tell that I had panicked.

The next thing I knew Sirah was there beating the men off with a pan, and holding me tightly. “There, there, child, these men were just acting like fools and playing a joke on you.

Frank was suddenly there, and she whacked him one on the shoulder. “You tend to your precious wife now! How do you expect her to obey you if you don’t?”

He swept me up in those powerful arms, something he’d not done since the snow storm. I knew I was safe then. The men were still laughing and joking, still acting like fools.

“Frank, could we please go now? I want to sleep on your chest and listen to your heart beat.”

~~ § §~~
~~ § §~~

As of 5/24/09 I am now working on "Cowgirl Hala".

"Cowgirl Hala" has been published and it is somewhere in this mess. I have not been successful in setting up a 'menu system'.

In this tale I try to accurately portray other cultures, both on Earth and other planets as the story develops. As it looks now there will be about 8 more chapters, if not more.

This story depicts, Americans, British, and some Middle Easterners. It is NOT about Islam

"Cowgirl Hala" Follows.

Cowgirl Hala

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

Novel > 40,000 words

Genre:

Western

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Other Keywords:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Cowgirl Hala

Gwen Brown

This story is a sequel to "Hala's Snow Day". There are 8 additional chapters planned to this story.

Hala patiently sat on the wooden steps waiting for the movers to load the last boxes. It was scarcely noon and she was tired. It was mid-July and would be quite hot in another hour or so. Last summer, she’d be wearing shorts and a skinny tank top when she got warm but now that she was married, she did her best to listen to the admonitions of Gran and Sirah. They’d both want her wearing more than she was but Hala decided that Boot cut Jeans, and a long sleeved blouse was proper enough. The Hijab wasn’t much to get used to once gran had shown her how to wind it around her head the easy way, but today it was draped easily around her neck.

She was musing about how much her life had changed in such a short time, less than two years and she had gone from independent, high powered executive woman to a ranch wife. How did she go from seeing men as toys, to a woman who wanted to spend her life with a man that she wanted to please, and to be pleased by? How did she get to the place that she was willing to give up her brash lifestyle to become a proper wife?

Frank had told her not to take the the Muslim relatives too seriously; that after all this was America, and even if she were going to convert to Islam, he was the boss and the other women could not order her around. She didn't know how to tell him, but she suspected that she HAD converted, at least in her heart, and many other ways.

Frank still seemed somewhat bemused by all his “new” Middle Eastern Muslim family, or at least the family that he did not know existed before. He was born in America; to parents who had seen the damage that the old hatreds could do, and that gave him plausible deniability in terms of his religious practices, such as they were.

So, after long talks stretching late into many nights with Hala lying on his chest, the two decided that they could be Muslims but not do the fundamentalist practices that seemed to have hurt so many; robbing the women of their rights as human beings, and burdening the men unreasonably. They decided that much of this was up to Frank to decide and he'd lived too many years on the range after he served in the military during the wars to engage in practices that he felt were silly. He could tell that this did not please some of his relatives. He'd deal with that as it came.

At first the Hijab had felt strange but she actually got used to it fairly soon. Being blonde and very fair, her Doctor had warned her for years to minimize her Sun exposure and he became quite emphatic about it now that she would be living at altitude for much of the year. Hala hadn't noticed it before but lots of the farm women wore a scarf under their hats when out just to keep the dust out.

"Mrs. Johnson, the truck is loaded, would you like to lock up for us?"

The man's voice startled Hala at first but she quickly recovered. "Yes, Jose, I'll lock up and be right behind you."

"Mrs. Johnson, Mr. Johnson gave us strict instructions that we are to follow you and watch over you."

Hala sighed. She knew better than to argue with Jose because it would get back to Frank and then they would have one of those talks. She knew full well that Frank loved her and was just making sure she was safe but it was a little smothering at times. She'd driven all over this country alone and having a protective husband made her feel strange. However, she did love the idea that he cared enough about her to be that way; making her feel secure in a way she had not experienced since she was a little girl living with her parents.

She quickly finished locking up and led the way out of the drive onto the road. The trip would take about 4 hours, or more with the truck and she just loved the transition from sage brush of Boise to forested hills and then to Alpine Grassland as she drove over the pass and dropped down to tiny Halfway. They passed the single store and a few churches before they headed back out into the country, arriving at the ranch in 20 minutes after leaving Halfway.

Gran was sitting on the porch waiting as Hala led the truck into the drive and up to the cabin. Hala laughed to herself every time she thought of it as a cabin because it was just so much larger than the place she called a home before.

Judging from the time, she knew that Gran had probably just finished Asr Prayer. Hala was still debating how observant of Islam she would be. Still, at times as she thought about the many blessings in her life she was moved to feel extremely thankful and often thanked Allah SWT in her heart.

Just as she got out of her car, she saw Frank walking up the hill from one of the barns. She just could not help herself; running to meet him while her heart beat a tattoo beneath her breasts. Jumping into the air, she knew full well that he would catch her.

"Whoa, missy, you seem happy to see Me.!"

"Oh, I am so happy husband mine." Hala grasped his neck as hard as she could and kissed him deeply. "I missed you so much; couldn't wait to get back!"

"Sweetheart, I was just down checking on a sick calf in the barn. The little fella had an abscessed umbilical hernia."

"Oh dear, that sounds awful. Will he be OK?"

"Sure, we cut it open and irrigated it. George is just keeping him in the barn for a few days so that it doesn't take so much time to tend to his wound."

"Can we go see the baby?"

"Sure honey, but he is no baby. He's going to be a year old soon."

As they made the short walk down the hill, Hala just could not get enough of her new husband. Gran smiled as she watched them walk away. Hala was a good girl and she would be a very good wife to the tall, handsome cattleman. She felt sorrow that the child would never have children, but then she thought, "Allah SWT knows her sorrows". The child was doing a better job at accepting than either she or her parents had at first. Sadly, Gran thought about Hala’s Uncle who insisted that such a child should be put to death at birth; buried alive. Eventually he caused such bad feelings that he went back to Iran, but not before he vowed to do the will of Allah SWT in regards to Hala. He had not been seen since.

She remembered the bitter battle that the surgeon had with Hala’s parents. He wanted to take her female organs out and try to make something of the mess that was left. Years later, another Doctor told Hala that she had Clitoromegaly, and she was complete physically, but her ovaries were not functional. In the old days, such issues were seen as a curse from the shaitun, but Hala’s parents, both educated knew that she would grow into a lovely girl.

"Oh, Frank, he is just so cute!" In her excitement, Hala made to climb over the fence to pet him. Frank caught her on top of the fence; "Careful now girly, he ain't one of yer house kitties. This guy can knock you down or worse.

She ignored Frank's admonishment and sprang into the pen. In fascination, she crept over to the calf to pet him. Frank had apparently decided to let her take the risk; teach her to listen.

"How are you doing little fella?" She asked. "Oh, Frank he's sucking my fingers!" Hala had no idea whatsoever that when he did not get milk from her fingers, he was likely to bite down a little.

"Owie", she squealed in pain. The Calf, not getting what it wanted energetically butted her on the side, knocking her back.

The look on Hala's face was priceless, and Frank began to laugh. She'd backed up within reach and Frank picked her up just in time to avoid another youthful onslaught from the hungry Calf.

He put her down on the correct side of the fence, and she turned to him; molding herself to his side. "He's so cute, but he almost beat me up!" Hala tried not to show it but he could see her lower lip quivering, and her eyes were briming.

"It'll be OK, little woman".

Later that night, as they lay in bed in post coital bliss, "I should have listened to you".

"Ah, you're none the worse fer wear".

"Thank you".

"Gotta protect my property". He'd expected to wind her up, but she just snuggled on his shoulder. In the coming years, he’d learn to read his wife’s non-verbal communication, at least somewhat, as well as men can do. "Yes, you better". A tremor went through her body from head to toe; revealing Hala’s feelings so well. Frank would come to know that movement as total commitment on her part.

The next morning, Hala rose with Frank, and as they had breakfast Hala had questions about taking a role at the ranch. She tried to help Rose in the kitchen but was quickly run out of there by the beloved Hispanic woman who had cooked for many years there. After a morning of heated dispute with both Rose and Frank, Hala went back to her bedroom in retreat. Hala had thought to be the wife that took care of Frank, but Rose made her feel like an interloper.

Frank was off on Ranch business, so Hala decided to go into town to do some shopping for a distraction. There isn’t much in Halfway, one store that is combination grocery, feed store, and hardware store. The drive was short and in the noonday Sun it began to relax her. The surrounding hills have snow in the winter and the trees on them were beautiful. She had seen the forest covered mountains with snow on top on the way in. It was altogether quite scenic, and Hala knew that she would love being there.

Hala expected calls from her partner, and had decided to step away from the Architectural business and let Alice run it, eventually completely with Hala taking a percentage of the Profits. Alice did not have the money for an outright buy out, so the arrangement suited them both.

The little store was great and she browsed through the hardware, and saddle tack sections before moving on to see if there was Tahini sauce. A while later she left there with no Tahini, but had new Jeans and cowboy Boots instead. The drive home was leisurely and coming around a bend a horse sized animal and her calf were standing in the road. Frank had told her about Elk but she had no idea that she would see one so soon and that they would be so large. The Cow Elk stood there looking at her for a moment and then moved off the road with her Calf.

Frank wasn’t around when she got home so she sauntered into the house to drop off her purchases in the bedroom. The Jeans were a little loose, so she moved out to the laundry to wash them, hoping they would shrink just a little.

On the way down the hall toward her bedroom, Rose called out to her. Hala’s pulse quickened but she went to seek Rose out. “Mrs. Johnson, I wish to apologize to you for being disrespectful. I will leave now so that you can get on with your life with Mr. Johnson.”

“Oh no, Rose, please do not leave! I didn’t come out here to cause you pain and to take your job. Is there not a way that we can learn to work together?” The two women talked all morning, moving into the kitchen to make coffee as they did. They finally agreed to get to know each other and try to work things out. Hala confessed that she had not cooked much since she was a child and that her American, semi Middle Eastern cooking was very different from the cooking Rose did in Honduras before she came to America.

The next morning at breakfast Hala and Rose started learning to work together and would eventually do so very well. Gran even got into the act, teaching them both some Middle Eastern cooking like Kabsah and Swarma.

Frank taught Hala to ride and in several weeks she felt quite sure of herself, falling into the habit of riding for an hour after breakfast dishes were done and the house tidied. Rather than trying to completely change Rose, Hala simply became an easy help mate; knowing that if she ever had children at the ranch, she would need the help and Rose was easy enough to get along with. It didn't take long to see that Rose and Jose had a thing going, but they were not married.

Hala’s talk with her mother, back in the Mid-West was unsettling, and joyful at the same time. So now Hala had things to consider that she’d never thought of. It seemed as though the Gynecological work a colleague was doing showed promise for women with various reproductive issues and the news gave Hala a lot to think about. It seemed that her mother’s colleague felt he could grow a complete set of female, or male sexual organs. Her not having ovaries made being a mother impossible unless they adopted, and she already knew that Frank was open to the idea of adoption.

Hala’s ride this morning took her up into rocky, sparsely treed mountains and on the way home she got turned around. After feeling increasingly lost, she just gave the horse his head, hoping that it would be as Frank said, that the horse, knowing where the grain bucket was would bring her home. She came out in a huge meadow that she knew laid up the hill in back of the ranch, and as she rode down in the direction of the cabin, she rounded a bend; surprising a man that was looking at the cabin with binoculars. The noise from her horse alerted him to her presence and as soon as he saw her and the horse, the man dodged into his car and sped off. What was he doing? His skin was brown and she knew that he’d never been around before. The rest of her ride home was uneventful and she forgot about it until dinner that night.

Gran, Frank and many of the rest of the ranch hands were there because Frank used that time to share information back and forth. It was amazing what Gran picked up from her rocker on the porch.

“Oh, I was riding up in back of the ranch this morning and got a little lost, so came back the horse’s way. As we rode out into that big meadow up there, we surprised a man with binoculars looking down toward the ranch. When he saw me, he left in a giant hurry too!”

Frank and Jose were very interested and much to Hala’s surprise, Gran said that she had seen a car up there a few times recently. When Hala mentioned that he was very dark, Gran, gasped and said, “Faraz!” but said nothing more. The meal was nearly finished, so Hala and Rose began to clear up. On one of her trips, she heard Frank giving Jose stern instructions and he said, “Yes, Mr. Johnson”.

“Mrs. Johnson is more important than the stock”, Frank said emphatically.

Hala came out of the kitchen to see why her name was mentioned, and met Frank. Jose and the rest of the hands there had left. “Hala, I know it would do no good to stop you from riding, so I want you to only go out with one of the hands with you until we figure out who that man was”. Hala looked up into Frank’s face and the stern look of it told her that there would be no discussion of this subject. “Yes darling”.

“I mean it Hala, no fooling around.”

“Yes, sir”. He’d been so emphatic that it was irritating and she just could not resist a little rebellion. “Or should I say, yes my Master”. Instead of the firm commanding look she expected, Hala was surprised to see a pleading look on his face that took all her anger and rebellion away.

On her rides, accompanied by Jose or one of the hands, they did not encounter the stranger again and that bothered Hala. What was he up to? It was getting on to mid-August and the meadows and woods were getting very dry. That day as she rode, the hand with her stayed back and just followed her, not making conversation like most of the other hands. And, Hala didn’t feel like he was much of a guard.

One night she had wakened after midnight to sounds of Gran talking to someone on the phone and she was not being subtle. She was speaking Farsi, a language that she recognized but could no longer speak with any facility. The last thing that Gran said, “So Faroz is in America” was the best that Hala could translate. Frank slept through it and the next morning Gran slept late, and Frank had left early to tend to a problem down towards the Snake River.

On her ride that morning, Hala kept checking behind her because this silent range hand was falling further behind. At the crest of a small rise, she thought that she could see the same or a similar car, in the distance, parked on a side road, and then the hand suddenly rode out of a thicket near it. That made Hala very suspicious. She would talk to frank about it at dinner. Now that ranch hand who had been staying away from her was suddenly riding right up to her very fast with a lasso out. Hala didn’t understand but she suddenly knew that she was the focus of that stranger’s attention and perhaps the ranch hand was helping him.

Her horse got nervous at the rapid approach of the hand, so on intuition, Hala turned the horse and started for the ranch as fast as the horse wanted to go! She’d never ridden this fast but she knew that she knew she needed to hang on for sure. They dropped into a little gully with a small creek running through it, and her horse jumped it, nearly throwing Hala. In back of her, she heard a splash and then swearing. She couldn’t look back for fear of falling off but it sounded like her follower had fallen off his horse and into the creek. She tried to slow her mount down a little but he was heading for the barn and he knew it.

As she crossed the pasture leading up to the Barn, she could see that car coming up the drive. Hala dove off the horse, and ran for the house, running into Rose at the door, but she did not see Gran. “Where is Gran?”

“She’s out in the Barn looking at a new calf”, Rose said. Hala didn’t think to tell rose that a man was chasing her because she was more worried about Gran. She was half way across the barn yard when the car got there and the stranger sprang out to chase Hala. Running into the barn, Hala yelled for Gran. The old woman was leaning across the fence of a stall watching the new calf. Just at that moment the man caught Hala.

“I have you spawn of the shaitun”, he shouted.

“Faraz, you leave her alone, she is no such thing”.

Faraz took out a huge knife and Hala managed to wrest herself free of the mad man. She ran over to Gran, who by now had a pitch fork in her hands. “Gran, give me that pitch fork”.

“Get your own weapon child, Faraz and I have business to attend to”, Eighty-year-old Gran brandishing the pitchfork like a warrior.

All Hala could find was a long handled scythe, so she started swinging it like a kitchen mop. Hala, being no fighter at all was no match for Faraz. He quickly moved around Gran’s pitchfork and knocked her to the ground. As she lay there dazed, he said to the old woman in Farsi, “Stay where you are old woman, or I will cut your throat too”. He grabbed Hala’s Scythe and jerked it from her hands. “Now I will send you to hell spawn of shaitun”.

Faraz was about to murder Hala, when a rifle shot rang out, striking Faraz in the shoulder. Rose was advancing across the barnyard. The rifle had jammed and she almost had it cleared when Faraz ran out, got in his car and sped off.

Rose ran first to Gran to get her up and then to Hala, who by now was sobbing and out of control. “Hold her Gran, I have to call Frank and the others”. Rose ran to the house, and as soon as she left the ranch hand that had been trying to help Faraz kidnap Hala ran in the door with a haunted look on his face. “The man said he only wanted to talk to you Hala, not to kill you”. I am sorry.

Gran looked at him with fire in her eyes. “You better be gone before Frank gets back”. He got on his horse and rode off into the woods, his only hope would be to drop into Snake River country, hopefully fording it, or finding one of the bridges at Brownlee or Oxbow, and get lost in Idaho somewhere. In this country, the River was fast and turbulent, so it was anyone’s guess as to his chances of surviving if he did not find a bridge.

About an hour later, a Truck could be heard careening up the gravel road to the ranch. The truck hadn’t even stopped when Frank was out of it and then came running into the barn. Gran and Hala were both sat in the straw next to the hay pile. Gran looked grim and angry, while Hala’s eyes were red and swollen. Hala was still not very composed and looked really fragile. Frank looked worn and angry.

He quickly stooped down and picked up Hala, and then Rose and he helped Gran to her feet also. One look at Frank and Hala sank into his chest. “I am so sorry darling, and I promise that I will do whatever you want me to do without argument in the future.”

“This was not your fault child. We all thought that Faraz would not return to cause trouble”, Gran said.

Rose looked at everyone and said, “Let’s all go into the house and decide what to do.”

Just about the time that they were ascending the steps to the house, two Police cars came rocketing up the road with lights going but no sirens. Within minutes a STOL cub and two small Helicopters were sitting in the pasture. Rose, Hala and Gran were in the kitchen making coffee and sandwiches while the men sat round the table discussing plans.

They asked a now much more composed Hala to explain what happened, then Rose related how she had not liked that ranch hand from the beginning. Later Gran explained just to the Police, that Hala had been born with some irregularities in her sexual organs and while they did what they could, Hala could not bear children. Faraz was never OK with that and had wanted Hala buried alive. In the ensuing conflict, Faraz was thrown out of the house, and eventually returned to Iran, and everyone thought that he would stay there.

Hala’s parents raised her in the normal way for a female, but she knew that she would not have children. So, this call from her mother about the possibility of organ implants for her was exciting.

Thoroughly briefed, the police, ranch hands and several volunteers set out to search for Faraz, and the ranch hand if they could find him. There were several hours before darkness, so there was a fair chance of finding the wounded criminal. As it happened, the ranch hand’s horse had been struck by a car while crossing the road, killing the horse and seriously injuring the man. When the ambulance got there, police were immediately called, and they found out that the original intent according to Faraz was to simply talk to Hala. Faraz was camped North of Halfway in a county campground, and when the police got there, Faraz was near death, dying on the way to the Hospital in Boise.

John, the injured hand, lived and got well, serving prison for several years as an accessory to kidnapping, with extenuating circumstances.

By the time everything was settled down, it was mid-October, so Hala and Frank could make a visit to Milwaukee, Wisconsin to consult with her mother and other Doctors. After several days of consultation, they took some tissue from Hala to begin growing the organs that Hala was missing. In mid-December, in the middle of a snow storm, the couple got into a taxi at the airport to go to the Hospital to have what the Doctors said would be a small surgical procedure.

Gran lived to see three of Hala’s children born, among them Dan. Rose and Jose were married.

This concludes the story of Frank and Hala. Next we move into 4 or more chapters of " The Sheik's Daughter", approximately 40 years after this tale ended.

By now, Dan and his two brothers and triplet sisters are grown, and Dan has been in several Middle Eastern wars.

Lt. Katia in Afghanistan

Author:

Gwen Brown

Organizational:

Title Page

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Taxonomy upgrade extras:

Lt. Katia in Afghanistan

by Gwen Brown

Lt Katia In Afghanistan Ch 1

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Genre:

Science Fiction

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Lieutenant Katia in Afghanistan
By
Gwen Brown

Lt Frank Grace sat there behind the British heavy machine gun, nervously waiting for the inevitable attack. Ordinarily, he would, could not be bothered with the task of actually operating the gun, but he had his other men doing specific responsibilities that were important enough to replace the wounded weapon man himself for a short time. It would be quite difficult for his Sergeant to forbid it from his body bag.

Today, he felt the deep, hopeless despair that took him from time to time. After all the years of trying and trying to fit in; to conform, he'd followed his Father's advice and taken a commission. This of course sent him right off to the war as soon as his training requirement was finished.

He didn't say anything to anyone about his utter despair. Before Afghanistan, the drunken nights had not helped, and his father, being totally clueless, thought that if the boy "Manned Up" a little that he would be cured.

Of course, a last name like Grace, had not helped any when he was younger and in school; and then his naturally feminine carriage and small stature made it all the worse. The only thing that saved him now is that he showed compassion for those with him and he was brilliant at anticipating the enemy's next move. In his battlefield strategy classes, he often dumfounded even the instructors. He'd had to become masterful at strategy even as a child, to keep away from those who could really hurt him.

Now, as a full officer, he often exposed himself with reckless abandon to the fire of the enemy. No one around him knew about the reason he'd come to the war. He wanted to either prove himself or be killed in combat and he actually preferred the latter to the former. He had no way of knowing that something was about to happen that would totally screw up his plans.

Frank was abruptly pulled from his reverie by the sound of one of his men.

"IRIA(Integrated Radar, Infrared, and Audio detection system) picking up mortars sir".

"Jolly good, give me a bearing as soon as you have it."

"142,36degrees Sir".

The Lieutenant knew that 142 was the local compass bearing and the 36 was the elevation. The coordinated auto mount oriented three L2A1’s correctly amid a slight whirring and clicking.

That was just where Frank thought it would come from.

He pulled the trigger, and the insistent chuffing of the guns began. Their firing became prolonged and he worried about burning up the barrel but the only thing that would help was lots of ordinance on that hill.

Suddenly, the whole mountain disappeared in the most catastrophic explosion Frank had ever witnessed, a blinding flash before Frank lost consciousness. Hell there wasn't enough left of him to ever be conscious again.

Suddenly, Frank’s remains blinked out of sight. They were beamed aboard a passing Alien space ship.

Malok quickly put the remains in the Auto Medic and turned it on. Life saving fluids began flowing around his remains, and cybernetic systems rapidly explored, utilizing information that the systems had previously gathered about humans and their health needs.

The young Lieutenant had no way of knowing that, only his head and part of his trunk were intact. Frank slowly became aware that he had begun to dream, and it felt like someone was in his head rooting about. At first he dreamt of dark phantoms sweeping past him in dense fog. The scene lightened and long suppressed desires began to slowly surface. A young woman swam into his awareness and before his Astral vision, she morphed from a slender young woman into one with exaggerated hips, large breasts and with an impossibly tiny waist.

Katia felt she was manipulated and made into someone that she had no desire to be. As she swam about in her dream, she became aware that part of her being was made to please a hormone driven teenager. She was powerless before his immature will.

Frank wondered where he was and who Katia was, "God, what's Dad gonna say now?"

"Geeze, cute guy in here with me." Said another voice in his dream.

Gradually both their consciousnesses solidified and then melded together. Slowly she began to understand that whoever she was now, used to be Frank but after being struck by weapons fire, his old body had been destroyed. Someone had saved his brain, but most of the rest would be the construction of a somewhat demented and comedic alien teenager.

By Earth standards, the Alien, loosely a male, would be seen as a crazy genius, and watched very carefully, but since Malok the Alien had the big stick, he did what he wanted to do. He was out exploring the galaxies in his neighborhood precisely because he was so reckless.

His Mom and both Dads (Women practiced polyandry) had simply sent him off somewhere to get through his "teen" years so he did not further ruin the family's reputation at court.

Malok had been cruising along a short distance above the desert, when he strayed into a desolate and useless looking place that Earthlings called Afghanistan; in the middle of a firefight between some British soldiers and some of their enemy up on the high ridge. When the first bullet from above hit the shields of his exploration vehicle, two point three nanoseconds later, those from above ceased to exist along with a cubic half mile of the mountain. The shaped explosion killed all of them within about 2 miles down range. It was an explosion designed not to cast debris back toward Malok himself.

It took slightly longer for his cyber brain to figure out that the people below were really just defending themselves. Malok had already killed three men in the squad below, and only one of them was salvageable at all.

"Shit, Daddy Gonush is gonna be pissed."

Gonush, one of his fathers, was an anthropologist and a pacifist too. The other one had died doing exploration, hundreds of Galaxies away from home.

The young alien had been studying Earth for a few weeks and wanted to use his advanced knowledge to reconstruct Frank in a way that he would be as good as or better than new. Then, when Malok studied Frank's brain more, he had a little surprise. Lt Frank Grace was transgendered! He could further see that his subject’s deeply repressed purpose for coming to Afghanistan was to end his life and end his life time of pain.

On his planet, if a child had this problem, the Doctors fixed it immediately. Malok nobly decided that he would repair this subject in a way that met Frank's deepest desires. Malok was not terribly surprised to find that within Frank's brain dwelt a being that was much different than the soldier that had not long ago been firing a heavy machine gun. Well, Malok , being in a charitable mood, had decided to allow the young man to live out his dreams. Once back to his ship, the Afconda, he settled in to do a leisurely job of enhancing his latest venture.
In spite of being a largely cybernetic construct, Malok still had feelings of remorse over having destroyed some of the beings that he found most interesting.

Malok had previously been very surprised to find that Frank had harbored these feelings of wanting to be a woman within himself. It would take a few hours but he wanted to do it as a fun project. After all it was not an emergency and Malok wanted to play a little; to feed his own sense of humor. He increased altitude and began to take stock of what he'd encountered.

He knew that those who were fighting in the valley were beings that called themselves British, and relatively advanced as far as the population of this planet was concerned. With some notable exceptions, their social mores were consistent with a developing planet. He'd noticed that the British as they called themselves, could be quite merciless to each other when talking in a conversation. Malok had yet to understand, it was perverse humor and often called, 'winding up your adversary.

Their apparent enemy were also humanoid, but for some reason seemed to be several hundred thousand rotations of their sun behind the others genetically; owing to nearly constant warfare for thousands of years in the region. Sifting through the various Earth Databases, and using the knowledge of his own race, he’d already found that the yellow hair and blue eye combination he’d found in some humans was a mutation that was only about 12,000 of their years old, so it seemed reasonable that certain races would be less intellectually developed than others.

Genetically, the natives of this region were also among the oldest peoples on the planet. The alien felt that the genetic difference was nearly large enough to warrant making the two races different species. It did not take long for Malok to conclude that the arid, inhospitable climate, and frequent earthquakes were also causative factors in the genetic retardation in the area. Through examining various world data bases, he determined that the country was isolated from more advanced countries by hundreds of miles and since there seemed to be little developed mineral wealth, it was left isolated for hundreds of years.

With his sophisticated instrumentation, Malok could easily see substantial Mineral wealth to exploit so that the country could advance economically. He decided to try an experiment and the first data would be gotten by his newly repaired human.

It was relaxing work, to him, similar to a woman knitting or clipping her nails. He began by completing the body the old Frank would occupy, and then tweaked it to better than perfection by human standards. So, the end product was 5'1" with unusually wide hips, strong but really loose knee joints, very narrow waist, and of course big, um protuberances. Malok made her breasts "D's" and inserted a lot of strong connective tissue, so that she would never require support. In his own little bit of creativity, he engineered his improvements to her breasts so that while at rest, her breasts were soft and subtle, but when she began to run or move about rapidly, they would tense up and not bob about painfully. His tastes in body design loosely agreed with original human standards with a few exceptions. He used material for skin, muscle and bone construction that was hundreds of times more durable than the original.

Her feet were tiny, her skin was like alabaster, and she could more than crack nuts with, her bare hands. You get the idea. Her lips were the epitome of beautiful; having a very pronounced cupids bow. Her Pashto-like eyes were so penetrative that they would seem like a laser gun sight to anyone upon who she gazed. As a final touch, Malok gave her butt length jet black hair. The triumph of his creation was making her voice so sweet that no man could resist her. Malok even decided to make her inner organs fully functional, but much more efficient. Her menses would be a single day of malaise, with the extrusion of a single soft pellet that had once been the inner lining of her Uterus and the unfertilized egg.

By no means did he leave her defenseless. He made her several times stronger than the old human body, improved the efficiency of her body systems, gave her eyes that could see in a much broader visual range from deep infrared to the mid ultraviolet range, extremely acute hearing, and a small, light weapon that was keyed directly to her brain; precise aim was not necessary. The young girl would be in a lot of danger and Malok did not want her mission to fail.

The mischievous alien planned to set her to the task of exploring for minerals and getting the locals working on exploiting them. But first, he'd just put her back to the previous task that Frank had been doing so she could become acclimated to her new body, and surroundings.

Malok had seen the huge deposits of mineral wealth in the area in his first approach to the planet, and later as he analysed the history of the area, found that previous occupiers, the Russians, as they were called, had known of them too, but were thrown out before much exploitation could be done. He decided to put misinformation out that the American government had re-discovered it all, more to conceal his own presence than anything.

He set her age at about 16 years old and released her back to the squad where she originated and wearing British Army regulation clothing and carrying her pistol of Malok's own design.

Malok named his creation Katia and programmed her so she already knew it. As long as he stayed relatively close to earth, he'd be able to see through her eyes and hear through her ears. For safety, he also left Frank's memories there too, so she could function in her current surroundings. He could remotely monitor every function of her body; making her almost identical to a robotic probe, except she was not cybernetic and retained free will. If power became a problem for her, he'd slip in more. He'd be able to communicate with her in two way communication, but he'd not let her know that right away.

The men in their emergency dugout were suitably astonished to find her suddenly sitting amongst them!

'Shit, what pronoun do I use now?' She thought.

"Don't shoot me chaps, do I ever have a story for you". she said, then giggled so cutely that it immediately defused any inclination that any of them had about shooting her. Even the new Katia still retained Lt Grace's suitably stuffy British accent, but in an absolutely charming girl's voice.

" Bloody hell?" one of the soldiers said. It was a considerable understatement, considering the circumstances.

Katia let them all adjust to the shock for a few moments.

"I'm what's left of Frank, … er… Lt. Grace."

She shrugged and immediately began registering her hefty breast, and comfortably padded bottom. As she thought about it, she hoped she could figure out the intricacies of having a front bottom.

That made her giggle yet again.

They were all sat there, raptly looking at what was left of the hill in front of them. Naturally, there was no one left to shoot at them.

None of the soldiers slept that night, and by morning, they'd worked out amongst themselves that, in their opinions, this wet dream of a girl really was Frank.

Without going into a lot of bloody detail, Lt Grace convinced Headquarters they needed emergency extraction. Needless to say, there wasn't any enemy activity that morning. Most of them had been killed and the rest had high tailed it back to Pakistan.

******************************************************************

"Sir, I have no idea what so ever how it all happened. I was sitting behind my weapon when there was a flash, and the next thing I know, it was dark and I was sitting amongst the troops holding my little pop gun."

"Did you fire that little pop Gun Lieutenant?"

"No, I didn't. All the enemy were gone, along with a huge chunk of the hill we were attacking. And, I did not seek the boyish delight of firing yet another awful weapon. In fact, I no longer have any boyish delight what so ever! It is sort of impossible in my new state!"

She smiled so sweetly that General Thotford found it extremely distracting.

"Yes, we know about your new state, erm Lt.

You still insist that you were Lt Frank Grace, do you?"

"I do sir, and so do the shrinks; though they are still trying to hang the nut case label on me."

"Well, can you blame them? I think that you are three stops beyond barking."

"No sir, and it gets very old after a bit. You bloody well know that they went through my whole file and I verified everything about it. And these shackles on me are quite demeaning."

She neglected to tell anyone that she'd just love it if young Sergeant Brand at the Motor Pool could put them on her. With that a frisson wove it's naughty way through her synapses; making her have visions of pouncing on the boy. Katia shook herself slightly and then tucked that thought safely away for … um … later reference.

The incident was not yet 24 hours in the past, and Katia was feeling quite threatened and nearly hysterical. She'd lost over a foot in height, now had curves that could best be described as mind numbing. She was really missing the convenience of the little hose she used to have. Well, not so much actually, but it was still quite an adjustment, and the last time in the loo, she felt like she had nearly electrocuted herself while cleaning up afterward. Her superior's words brought her back to the room.

"Well Lieutenant, none of us understand what happened."

The general seemed to think for a few moments. "Would you like to return to your duties or go back to England?"

"Well sir, I think I should like to return to my duties but have them modified somewhat? Will you remove the shackles or shall I?" With that she simply pulled on them a little and they shattered, parts of them flying around the room.

"Well, Lt Katia, shall I have the cost of those restraints deducted from your pay?"

"Please don't sir, none of my clothing fits now and buying more will be an awful expense. This whole ordeal has been awfully unsettling. Besides, what am I to tell my Mum?"

With that, both of them laughed for a bit.

Katia had not told them everything. She'd found herself with an astonishing linguistic ability. So far, she'd been able to rapidly learn virtually any language she tried after listening to it for a relatively short time. French was her favorite.

She'd also found that she was very strong now, infinitely stronger than before. She'd crushed the grab bar on the door when she'd had sudden cramping at the beginning of what would later prove to be her mense. "Gad, you'd have thought that whoever did this to me would have given me at least some time to adjust." she thought.

Katia did not know it but the little Pop Gun she'd returned with had more fire power than her M2. and seemed to never need reloading. The lab found the weapon to be completely impregnable to snooping. In further evaluation, they found the weapon to be more comparable to a tank cannon. They did not intend to give it back to the little girl.

******************************************************************

She was just finishing her third helping of eggs on toast and had no idea where it was going but gawd it was good, and Katia knew she had to have it.
She'd soon find out that none of it seemed to go to her hips, and for that she was grateful. She'd quietly determined that her physical abilities were far beyond what they were before. Though she had no idea how she would respond to battle wounds. On a quiet walk, she'd found that a heavily loaded truck took only a slight bit of effort to pick up one end. She found she could run long distances at astonishing speed, but her hip action took a lot of getting used to. In fact, it felt like her butt swung like the pendulum.

She had asked to be put in her old outfit, and suggested that they do some covert night work. Katia was sure that she could prosecute the war much more effectively now, making sure that the criminals came to justice without harming the innocent.

For some reason, she now had a preference for a radically altered shirt in her old size but sewn to fit her diminutive horizontal measurements. The result was a loose fitting garment that nearly reached her knees. She used pants in her size so that the final uniform resembled a Salwar Kameez (Garment whose length is almost to the knees with long sleeves and loose. Is worn with loose pants). The garment resembled what women wore on Malok's home world.

Just before the next mission, she went back to talk to the General about her strange weapon. "Do you think I might have it back sir?"

"Why, of course not girl!"

"Sir, I am a Leftenant in her Majesty's Service."

"That my young girl, is debatable."

"Sir, might I respectably remind you that it was given me by whoever wrought such havoc with my body?" she cheerfully chirped. "And, I have heard rumors that its utility is astonishing. Considering the danger I and those with me will encounter, I think we need all the advantage we can get."

"That is absolutely out of the question girl. You're not to be going off this base until I the home office has decided what to do with you. I expect it is back to the UK for you.

With that last sexism, something in Katia snapped. "Don't you ever call me girl again, you fat old desk wart!"

"That is insubordination Lieutenant and I am calling security right now!"

Katia, did not remember exactly how it happened; her brain having somehow switched gears or something. She suddenly found herself sitting astride the general, who was now lying on the floor; his chair tipped over. His nose was bleeding, and her hands were around his neck. His face was turning blue.

Upstairs, Malok had almost fallen out of his seat with laughter. "My, that little human is the "spit fire" that I designed." He'd gained a propensity for human language idioms and this one described her perfectly.

She quickly let go of the general when she came to her senses.

"You fat po faced slob, give me that Gun right now, or I shall finish what I started, and I will tell your wife that you are snogging Private Peters, and subjecting her to constant harassment!"

"What did you just do?" His face carried a look of astonished horror.

"Don't even think of retaliation fat boy! I mean to do my utmost to end this endless bloodletting in Afghanistan. Bloody hell, 19 years here is enough! You can take the credit, or die trying to kill me. It is your choice. I rather think that you'll fail at the latter."

The General actually came back to his senses quite rapidly. "Lieutenant, I am going to ignore that last outburst, and have that "popgun" leant to you for … um … test purposes. We shall see if you are half what you think you are."
"Thank you sir" She was now standing at attention after helping him to his feet and giving him a hand full of tissues.

"You are dismissed Leftenant. Now go to the armory and check out your weapon".

"I will sir, thank you sir." She said as she saluted smartly, turned and walked out of the office.

***************************************************************

Katia's first combat mission led them well into the hills in the dark. Though it was not evident to her fellow soldiers, they were detected, and she watched in frustration as several figures crept out of the village and over the ridge just before they entered the tiny settlement. At first she did not realize that she could see in the infrared range. When she did, Katia thought it best not to reveal that.

After several frustrating attempts to engage with the Taliban, Katia, quietly stole out of the compound one night after telling John, the medic. They’d agreed that he should "suddenly discover" if she was not back in a day or two. Sure she'd have to face AWOL charges but decided she decided to deal with that when the time came. She'd talked to John about arranging supply drops in the dark, but she wanted to wait, hoping it would not be required.

This time, she secured and carried a black Abaya, Hijab and face covering. She had eye makeup sufficient to completely blacken her eye sockets. It was miles to the area of engagement where they had encountered much resistance in the past, but she found it not that hard to find a convoy heading that way.

They were going to re-supply a forward base. She sat on the back of the lead truck, for a while and then happily crawled up on top of the load. She could see watchers lurking various places along the way, but they did not act at first. Then one or two of them started taking pot shots. They each got off one shot with their AKs before she'd shoot them. It was odd but the little rifle seemed to correct her aim to hit whatever she could see. These shots seemed to be oddly muted. She had heard that the rounds were astonishingly destructive and it seemed really dumb to her that they would not let her discharge it near the camp.

As they entered the camp, she could see lurkers ranged all about it, so she hopped down and slipped away from the convoy. These guys really pissed her off, as they had wounded one of the boys in a rear truck. In her combat rage, she found that she often did not need her "Pop Gun", she'd just spear the enemy with her bare hand. In a couple groups, she purposely let one or two go; letting them live to spread the fear. The news of the "Woman of Shatun (Satan)" would spread fast.
Katia, stole a couple cases of rations, and moved off into the hills just as it was getting light. It only took a moment for her to put on her Abaya and Hijab. She did not want to look Pashto, because she wanted to frighten anyone who saw her. The Arab Clothing would have to suffice. It did not take her that long to find rocks for concealment, and she spent the day dozing under an outcropping. By night fall, she'd consumed all her water and the rations. She was still thirsty but would wait for a little while.

In her leisure, Katia had thought a lot about her old life; what she would tell her mum? She decided that she did not care what her father thought. Looking as she did, Katia wondered how she would travel almost 6000 Km to England without help. She doubted that the Military would do it and suspected that soon they would try to place her under custody on trumped up charges.

Katia wanted to find an intelligent way to contact the villagers in a manner that would persuade them to stop supporting those who wanted to fight. She wanted to try to find a way to neutralize the fighters without all the killing of innocent people.

The days turned into a several and then a week. She'd not even tried to arrange for a night air drop. She found the food resources to be adequate. She'd occasionally make contact with Pashto women; telling them that she was there to end the fighting; that she did not want to kill the men but if they did not stop, they would die.

In one conversation she had with the wife of the village elder, in her home, Katia gained a new understanding of the problems of the Afghanis. The opium was so big because it paid so well, and being poverty stricken, the villagers had to do it to survive. She explained to the woman that there was going to be an effort to help them develop other ways to provide for themselves. The woman, Anoosheh said that she knew that the opium was evil and it made her feel bad to see it grown there.

Her best tactic seemed to be to watch a village for movement after dark. She'd follow the night travelers to see where they were going. Usually if they headed toward a position of ambush, she'd just wait for them to set up. If she could see Western troops moving toward them, they would generally fire on the coalition troops once they'd moved into a position of ambush. As soon as that happened, she'd "Pop Gun" them.

Word began to spread of an unseen ambusher in the night.
Once, she'd just finished off a group of ambushers and turned to see several Americans watching her. She waved and dropped out of sight before they could do anything.

Her medic friend had tried to contact her several times but she never answered, figuring that her fellow Brits would find her and bring her in.

It took Katia a few more days, but she began to get the germ of an idea about how to end this conflict. The major problem, it seemed, was the huge amounts of money to be made selling poppies. It was much greater than any other crop the farmers could raise.

Katia knew that she could not single handedly dry up the Poppy market. She had heard that the Saudis' were trying to set up a deal to pump oil and gas from the North, but the Pashto were having none of it.

Now there was word that the West was again trying to get farmers to grow things other than opium. Katia was thrilled with the idea, but wondered if it would work. She was only one woman and to do what needed to be done would require hundreds of people like her. She wondered how she was changed and she found her memories of it confusing. Night after night such questioning was on the back channel of her brain, no matter what she was up to.

She'd sneaked into several villages and listened to the men talk. They complained about the invaders, and bemoaned their living conditions. The farmers were not so happy about growing poppies but to them it seemed the only chance they had.

One night, she had followed a huge caravan into Pakistan and had seen the contents loaded into many trucks. She slipped aboard one of them and rode it clear to Islamabad where it and several other trucks were parked in a warehouse there. She just sat there for a while, waiting to see what would happen next. It was quiet for quite some time so she slipped out and stole a freshly butchered goat and some fruit. In her case, it no longer mattered if it was cooked or not. She had her mission and that was it.

In the very early morning, she heard cars drive up and several men in western suits came in. She just sat there listening and was extremely surprised to find that two of the men spoke English very well, and were in fact Americans, or Canadians.

What she found out that day left her filled with rage, but she knew she could not kill enough of them to make a difference even if she killed 100 a day for a year. Katia just went crazy for a while and no one left there alive. She burned the warehouse and the trucks, but knew that it would be too little.

Katia must have blacked out because she became aware of being very hungry, and overcome with grief outside a city called Peshawar. Poor Katia did not know how long had passed, but she felt filthy and felt as if she could eat a horse whole. It was as if she was too tiny for this world. All the problems were too big for even her super human strength.
Malok was off in another galaxy at the time and did not know of her dire circumstances. He was unaware that humans could be overcome with grief and stress. Had he known, Katia would not have experienced what was to follow.

Katia felt even too discouraged to steal food or beg. A man came and offered her water, and she drank all he could give her. Katia had no way of knowing that her drink was laced with something to make her sleep. He was taken with her beauty and meant to sell her.

The next thing she knew was she was lying in the back of a wagon on top of bags filled with something, she didn't know what. She felt too weak to even move but did notice that her wrists and ankles were shackled. Again she slept.
She woke up in a tiny room with two other women watching her. She was still shackled. She felt feverish and weak because she had not eaten in days. It was hard to think and her head hurt so much. The women began to bathe her, washing her long hair and braiding it. She was given enough food for the average woman her size, but it was not nearly enough, and the lack of food kept her weak. Katia was aware of men loudly arguing but was too out of it to care.

Later, after a journey of indeterminate length, they stopped. Katia was awake enough to walk but found herself shrouded in something that blinded her nearly completely. Her ankles were free but her wrists were still shackled and had painfully raw and bleeding cuts from the restraints. She and two women were led into a hut built from rocks and wood. Once they sat down, Katia's Burqua was removed and she could look around for the first time. She could see that the women were just removing theirs too.

They wore Shalwar Kameez. Katia was naked. Katia thought that she heard that they were in a village about 100 miles up in the mountains from Moqor, called Shkin.

Several different men came in and raped her. Too weak and barely conscious, she just laid there. There on her back on the dirt in a dirty bug infested hut she learned that rape victims do not "enjoy it". Often her attackers would take her front and back and then put their filthy prongs in her throat. Thankfully, she lapsed into unconsciousness.

Later, she could hear the women talking quietly and quickly learned that she had been captured and was to be taken back to Qandahar. They expected her to be stoned to death as the Daughter of the Shatun. Katia was feeling considerably better, but knew she was too weak from the drugs and lack of food to cause any trouble.

The women had been giving her part of their food and water. " Khor (Sister), we know who you are and want to help you. We women know that you need vast quantities of food for strength".
Just after dark, the men started a fire, and one of the women was taken out to cook for them. Talking to the other woman, who said her name was Afia, Katia learned that both women were married to one of the men. Since the other wife, Sabeen, had cooked, then her husband Akmed would likely come to have sex with Afia after the meal.

Katia got the impression that Afia did not want to do it, and asked her.

"What can I do? He is my husband and before Allah SWT, I am bound to obey him."

"What if you say no?"

"I could never do that. He is my husband and if I do not obey, he will beat me.
But what does it matter, if he beats me? Then maybe I will die and it will be over. I will go to Jannah, perhaps.", she said sadly.

At that, rage began to build in Katia.

She decided that she needed to do something soon because they would be in Qandahar late in the evening.

"Afia, do you keep animals here?"

"Oh yes, there are goats kept in a pen at night, just outside."

Later, when the food was done, some was brought in to Katia and Afia to eat.
Afia said, " I know that what you were given is not enough to restore your strength, so you must eat mine, and when you have finished that, there is a bag of dates in the corner."
"I'll need lots of water, too. Thank you so much. I will try to make things easier for you if I live through the night." As yet, Katia was unaware that she could have put out a distress call to Malok since he was on his way back.

"You are going to do something tonight then"?

"Perhaps."

Katia, had to watch as the man Akmed followed Sabeen into the tent. He then raped Afia right in front of them, and after consuming opium fell into a stupor.
Katia waited for everyone to sleep and then got up quietly. The evening was already chilly but Katia was not going to bother trying to put anything on with shackles on her wrists. She still did not feel strong enough to break them. Afia had wrapped cloth around the connecting chain to keep it quiet.

By the time Katia slipped into the goat pen, she was shivering violently. The goats woke up and bleated plaintively for a moment or two then became quiet. As Katia lay there, one of the men came by and saw her lying with the goats.

"Silly bitch, now you lie with the goats, you must be of the jinn (Daemons)! The Shatun (Satan) will have you tomorrow when we send you to Jehenum (Hell) by stoning! Allah Akbar(God is Great)!" he said loudly.

His loud voice did not seem to disturb anyone and he passed out of sight around one of the other huts. He was apparently too stoned to realize that Katia could escape. Of course he had no idea how weak she was and being without clothing, well that was a problem, too.

Katia lay there for a few more moments, and then reached over and grabbed one of the goats by the throat.

"This is going to be really yucky" she said softly to herself.

The goat died quickly, only kicking for a moment. She began to eat the goat, even before it was completely dead. Katia slept, no longer cold. She had all that warm blood in her belly".

In the morning, she was awakened by one of the girls screaming. Sabeen ran out with barely a stitch on.

“Help, he is beating her to death with a club.”

Katia was on her feet immediately; rage fueling her body like never before. Inside, she gasped in shock as the man dealt the death blow to his wife.

"That will teach you not to help that evil jinn bitch"

"Hey pretty boy, come here."

He turned and beheld her blood covered body, and her insane smile. The husband had never seen Katia in action, though he'd heard the rumors. “After all“, he reasoned, “how could such a tiny girl, be a threat to him? Maybe he'd give her a good beating and then take her as wife?”

When the murderous husband swung at Katia, she simply grabbed the club and crushed it in her left hand. With her right, she grabbed his wrist and squeezed it enough to make him scream with pain. He stiffened with terror, knowing that his doom was imminent.

Katia was so angry, that she played with him like a cat plays with a mouse. The more she played, the more angry she got. Finally she skewered him low in the gut with his own sword, pinning him to the ground and driving it deeply into the earth so that he could not pull it out.

"There, you bastard. I hope it takes a week for you to die!"

With that Katia fell weeping to the earth floor. Sabeen tried to comfort her, but the shock of seeing Afia, Sabeen's wife sister beaten to death, made the grief take her too. A while later, Katia heard footsteps approaching the hut. She let the man walk in and then grasped his wrist hard enough to double him over in pain.

"Does he live or does he die, Sabeen!"

Sabeen looked at him for a minute, "Die, bastard!"

Katia quickly snapped his neck, the blood lust was upon her.
At one point, her rage was so great that she began to glow and lighting began to arc from her body to things around her. She floated off the ground several feet and started around the village.

Malok wakened because of the system overload alarm, and he quickly moved so he could see what his diminutive creation was doing.

“Good heavens, she has taken leave of her senses.”

In moments Katia would use all her reserve power and be easy prey to her enemies. Malok quickly brought his ship low enough to begin to beam power into Katia's rapidly weakening body. He actually chuckled as she wrought vengeance on her attackers. It took about an hour to clean up the village, not killing any of the men who did not deserve it.

When all the occupants of the village had been gathered, Katia stood up. She'd gotten some clothing from the other women and was now properly garbed, but sans Burqua. They'd scrubbed the blood from her in front of everyone else, letting them think that it was from the abusive men she had killed, and much of it was.

"If any of you men abuse your wives, I will hear of it and I will come and eat your flesh!"

(In Muslim culture, the eating of the flesh of another is particularly heinous) She said viscously. She cackled like a witch. This terrified everyone, including those who were in no danger from her. Her insane laughter was not put on.

Malok, looked on in interest, and reading her memory records, he was shocked at just how resourceful she had been while he was gone.

"Katia, this is Malok, the one who put you back together".

"What the hell, who are you? Am I talking to myself?" She was not speaking and she could not hear anything. It was all going on inside her head.

"No, I am in an exploration vehicle above you. Just look up and you can see me".

At first, Katia saw nothing but when she magnified her vision, and looked where she felt it was right, she saw a tiny speck floating a long way up there.

"OK, I see you. Where were you for the last few days you bastard? I nearly died!"

It was good that no one could hear the heated conversation that took place in the next dozen seconds. Katia actually felt like she won too. Malok agreed to keep much closer watch on her and to protect her when she needed it.

With that, she turned and walked to a secluded spot by the seasonal creek. She sat there for a long time. Sabeen joined her, sitting down quietly at her side. She noticed Katia trembling slightly. She reached over and put her arms around Katia.

That seemed to open her emotional flood gates and suddenly, she began to weep in great breathless sobs. She wept for the fallen sister, and for all the other women who had died at the hands of bad husbands, and criminals. Katia didn't notice other women from the village, some with babies begin to gather around her. Soon all were weeping for her, and for the fallen.

Katia managed to get herself together later that afternoon after sleeping. The villagers had sent for their Imam (loosely Preacher). He arrived after Katia had been bathed again and dressed by the grateful women of the village. She declined the Burqua, but did allow them to put a Hijab (hair covering; scarf) on her. Katia knew that by Western standards, it would be the height of indignity for a Western woman to wear the Burqua, which they saw as a symbol of slavery. However, it was part of the local custom and she wanted to engraciate herself to the other Women.

The Imam first went to meet the men, and after a short animated discussion, he came over to Katia and the rest of the women, who were now in Burquas.

He sat down in front of her, and she sat. "I am Imam, Touri. He said, "So, what will the little sister of the Jinn do, kill all the men in my country?"

"What are Jinn?"

"They are the angels of the Shatun, the evil one."

"Keep on in that vein, and you'll go on the meat pile".

"I am not afraid to die if Allah SWT (Subhana Walla T Allah)(literally, Glory to God) wills it."

Katia really did not want a long discussion about a religion that she knew nothing of.

"Look buddy, the man had just beaten his wife to death. What was I supposed to do?"

"It is not for women to avenge their sisters, Allah SWT does that."

She sensed that this was going nowhere.

"Look, I am not here to destroy your culture. The bastard had just kidnapped me from Pakistan and intended to take me to Kandahar to stone me to death". Along the way there was lots of recreational rape going on and I was it.

"Your sins against Afghanistan and Allah SWT are many."

"Look, I intend to stop the opium trade, stop the violence against women and fight corruption where I find it. You can either get on board or not. If you attack me, I will send you to your Allah SWT to complain."

"You say much for a tiny little girl."

Katia reached over and picked up a piece of fire wood. It was still a little green. Still looking at Imam Touri, she used one hand to crush it into saw dust.

"And that is with my weak hand."

She exhaled through her nose with such force that her nose flared alarmingly and with Malok watching, he quickly made her eyes glow red, just for the fun of it.

She could see the fear in the man's eyes.

“People speak about not being afraid to die; most lie.” She said.

"I don't know what happened. I was on a patrol, and people started shooting at us and the next thing I know I am in this wet dream of a body. Maybe it was your Allah SWT who changed me to avenge the innocent?"

"Well, it could be the Shatun who did it?"

Katia was shocked! This man seemed to turn everything back on her. She knew that she intended only good, and he was mocking her!

"What do you know, you probably don't even know who your Allah is? Here I am trying to help make things better and you mock me?"

Katia burst into tears. She couldn't talk because of the force of her great sobs.

"The little sister has the heart of a warrior but the maturity of a girl." he said.

"Well, what do you think I am? I got put in this situation and whoever did this to me made me a teenager to boot. How am I supposed to deal with this Mr. Know it all?"

"Be calm little one, I mean you no harm."

"What do you mean by that? You bloody well allowed your men to nearly kill me!" She shrieked.

"I am sorry for your pain little one, and if you tell the truth, your intention is honorable; pleasing to Allah SWT. What you try to do is not for woman. You should be in your house, protected and cared for by a good husband. Woman is too fragile and valuable for what you do."

"Well, you should tell that to all this pond life here. They treat women in the most despicable manner!"

Katia was impressed by this man's gentle speech. "What is your name?"

"I am Imam Mamadou Toure", what is yours?"

"Katia, but I started all this business as Leftenant Frank Grace, I was a British Soldier."

"There is the tradition of mysticism in the Sufi way, what happened to you?"

"We were engaged in an exchange of fire from hostiles; planning on having air support once we'd fully drawn them out, and suddenly the hill in front of me just exploded, and I was blown apart moments later."

"Yes, I heard of this battle. Many of the fighters died there."

"You sound as though they were heroes!"

"Those men were fighting for their way of life. Before the invading westerners, there were the Russians."
"What are you talking about? None of us came over here to ruin your country! It was my intention to help make life better until I was killed. I can't stand you, leave me alone!"

That was pretty much it for Katia for the rest of the day. The women kept her fed, and bedded her down that night. The next morning an egg sized pellet and a little blood laid near her.

"Geeze, I should have known it was just PMS!" She screamed as loud as she could and then started bawling.

Later that day, a much subdued Katia, left the village to search for vermin. She'd worn the Burqua until she got out of sight, so she could avoid the Imam, and took it off; putting it in her recovered day pack. She did not want to kill him, and something stopped her from wanting to fight with him.

The Shalwar Kameez was pretty comfortable. Her beloved "Pop Gun" was gone, but one of the sisters insisted that the dead husband had it when they left Pakistan.

"Malok, do you know what they've done with my weapon?"

"Yes, Katia it is over the ridge on your right. I will watch you as you search for it, and reclaim it."

"Thanks, Malok."

“You are welcome child”.

“Don’t you call me a child, you know better”.

Malok frowned in irritation, but decided not to confront her just then.

Just before she crested the ridge, a number of powerful explosions rocked the ground. On the other side and down a few yards was one of the village men shooting at bushes and rocks on the other side.

She snuck down to just behind him. "That's mine buddy. Give it back!"

He jumped free, almost taking the gun with him, but Katia hung on with a vengeance. He flopped on the ground, and turned around to face her.

"Such things are men only, not for women!"

He looked at her as if she were some errant child. "Give it to me child woman!"

Katia was set back, and felt so contrite that she almost did give it to him.

"Such things are not for you, little girl. You will get hurt."

"But it is mine, and was made for me!" She said hotly, her eyes beginning to tear up. Katia was emotionally exhausted and needed to be gotten to a place to rest.

"Give it to me, before you are injured. I do not want to answer to Allah SWT for allowing you to injure yourself!" His voice was so kind, but Katia could see that he was not giving up.

"I have to go. I can't obey you. You don't understand. I'm sorry." Katia turned and fled.

"Malok, can you fix this gun so no one but me can fire it?"

"That is a very good Idea, I will do it now."

The look of the man’s eyes and the concern in his voice stayed with her as she half heartedly hunted Taliban for the next several days as she made her way down out of the mountains. Along the way she found that she could eat the leaves from trees and much of the vegetation, thus decreasing her dependence upon meat.

Later, she sat on a ridge watching, and thinking. The deeper she got into all this, the harder it was for Katia to see clearly who the enemy was. On one hand, the Taliban did awful things to anyone who opposed them. They persecuted women in the most despicable manner. Yet, the women and some of the men she talked to said that they were trying to survive, and only grew and sold the evil weed out of desperation.

On her third day out, she found men sitting before a tiny fire in front of a well concealed cave. Katia carefully crept up as close as she could without being discovered. She could just hear them talking. It sounded as if there was a group coming to exchange opium for mortar rounds. Sure enough, just before dark, she could hear movement in the ravine below.

Shortly men with a half dozen mules came into sight below. She waited for all the men to gather and begin exchanging goods, and opened fire. It did not take long and all there was carnage. She looked around and found that there were half a dozen huge caves in the ravine. Katia got as far away as she could and shot one of the caves. That was followed by several huge explosions that knocked her to the ground. As she got up, she could see smoke coming from the other side of the next ridge, so she ran over there as fast as she could. Looking down, she realized that one of the caves went clear through the mountain, and looking up the valley, she could see dozens of Men fleeing. They were too far away to catch but she shot at them until she could see no more movement. It took Katia almost an hour to get over to where she'd seen the men fleeing and where she found no one alive.

This was too big. She had to try to contact the British forces. She managed to collect some food and water from the dead bodies and began walking toward Qandahar, hoping that she would encounter western forces along the way.

As she was coming out onto the dry plain from the mountains, she encountered a helicopter, and waved at it. They turned slightly but did not land. All she could do was hope that they'd send a patrol.

Katia walked to a rise on the other side of a dry river bed and sat down. She sat there the rest of the day. During the night, she heard foot movement down below and looked to see about 50 men moving up the river bed. They were not western troops and looked like they could be Taliban but without more certainty, she decided not to shoot them, but instead followed along behind them at distance.

About half an hour later, she heard shooting, including what she thought was mortar fire. It took her about a minute to come upon the scene. It looked like the Taliban were about to over run a group of about a dozen vehicles. From her position behind, she found an elevated ridge and began to systematically shoot. It did not take too long before the Taliban realized that there was a second front and they began to fade away into the night, to attack her as they closed on her position.

They were getting way too close for her, so she simply held the trigger down and began to plow up the desert. Though she did not know how, as her desperation grew, the explosive force of the rounds became magnified. Shortly, she realized that she could easily vary the power of the rounds just by thinking about it.
At dawn, in the aftermath, she worked her way up to the place where the vehicles were circled up. Katia made lots of noise while approaching. She certainly did not want the soldiers shooting at her.

The scene was one of utter desolation. She could see several unmoving bodies bearing American flags on their shoulders. Not being a medic, all Katia could really do was roll them over and try to waken them. She felt as if she were being watched and looked around. There, under one of the trucks, the muzzle of a rifle pointed out. Katia knew that whoever was holding that gun could shoot her at any moment.

"Please, don't shoot. I am a British soldier working undercover. I am just trying to get back to my base. With that, the muzzle drooped a little and she could hear a female weeping, or it sounded like it. She cautiously made her way over to the soldier under the truck.

"Hey, it's OK now, the British have arrived to save you." Katia said, trying to lighten the mood somewhat. She knew that whoever remained alive, they were likely to be right on the edge of hysteria.

Finally she managed to coax the soldier out and "He" told her that they'd been overrun by Taliban about mid day and they were about to finish his unit off when all hell broke loose out behind the advancing enemy. The poor kid had only been in Afghanistan for three days. He was infantry.

I looked around and managed to find one working radio but had no signal. So they eventually got one of the vehicles running, but it smoked a lot. Katia was no mechanic, and the Private was not much better.

They found four other soldiers who were unconscious but alive. They stopped the bleeding and made sure they were breathing. When the vehicle was running, they loaded the wounded and headed back to base. The kid was useful in that he at least knew how to find the base.

With the young private driving, Katia sat in the roof top gun mount, and kept watch. They were no more than a mile down the road when she spotted movement in the rear, and a puff of smoke. Only her quick reflexes and her little "Pop Gun" saved them. An RPG had been launched at them. After that, she hosed down the desert to the rear, … um … LIBERALLY!

She didn't pay any attention to the time. She just kept watch and "Popped" anything that looked suspicious. About every half hour, the Private would try the radio. As she scanned the surrounding landscape, Katia realized that she thought differently than she used to. She still had all of Frank's memories but did things like check out the private as a mate, think about the flowers back home and wish she had a bit of "Chokie" Ice Cream.

Within minutes of making radio contact, two buzzing little helicopters swept past them. "Ah, here are the Kiowas", yelled the private. The rest of the trip back to base felt rather uneventful.

Katia was wearing no uniform, and at first the Americans wanted to disarm her. At the first hand reaching for her weapon after she said, NO! She simply grasped his wrist and convinced him that she would remove his hand if he kept it up.

"Look boys, I am British undercover, I brought five of your blokes home, and if you would kindly feed me, I will be on my way."

The American, Captain John Blake, a 45 year old Army career soldier, wasn't giving in that easily, so she simply blew a hole in the floor between them. The whole room was full of dust and smoke for several seconds, and when it cleared Katia was gone. When they found her, she was sitting in the Mess in the corner, with her back to the wall munching on enough food to for a squad.
The Captain looked into the room and quietly went back to his office. A while later he came back and walked up to her in his least aggressive manner.

“I have spoken to the British, and they say you could be Lt Katia. Is this correct?”

"Yes sir, I am Lt Katia Grace, in her Majesty's Service."

"They speak of some strange happenings and then you've been out slaughtering the enemy since".

"Well sir, I have been trying but it is difficult for a little girl." Her smile made her look more like a predator than a lover. "I am so tired and even with all the killing I have done, the problem does not seem to lessen. It is as if I am useless".

"You look an awful lot like my daughter back home Lieutenant."

"Why thank you sir. I am sure that she is quite charming, and even though I was physically 25 years old, my mind works like that of a teen aged girl now. Somehow, I know that whoever reconstructed me, made me 16 instead. It is so hard and I don't know how to keep doing it ... I can't keep doing it!" she shouted and then fell to the floor sobbing as hard as anyone he'd ever witnessed.

With that he stepped out to the door. "Get me Sergeant Michel, right now!"

He'd gotten Katia up off the floor and she was hanging limp on his shoulder, sobbing in great gasps; the tears streaming down her face in torrents.
Sergeant Michael was there in just a few minutes. Sergeant Catherine Michel, was a single mom trying to get Triplets through college. The other women in the unit and a very select few men privately called her 'Mom". Her 4 year enlistment would be up in several months.
There was a knock at the Captain's door, and then it opened.

" Sir, you asked ..." He pointed at Katia.

With that, she rushed to her side and began to talk to Katia. "Hi sweetie, I'm Cathy, and I am here to help you . Can you speak English?"

"Cathy, this Lt Katia Grace, and she is in the British Army. Perhaps you have heard the rumors?" Captain Blake said. Cathy nodded; she had.

*********************************************************************************

Katia and Cathy sat in a quiet room with a plain military bed, a chair and a small desk. Katia was on the bed, leaning against the wall, and Cathy sat in the chair. Though Cathy had a hard time believing the tale that the teen ager had related to her, the Captain told her that in all likelihood her story was true.

The British had told the American captain that the young woman could demolish the entire camp if she chose, and to absolutely NOT try to disarm her.

"I am stating this in the most emphatic terms Captain. She can be extremely dangerous when provoked. Fortunately for us, she seems to have a blood lust for the Taliban and opium traffickers. They were calling her the Daughter of the Shatun, but after some sort of incident in the mountains, now she is called the Angel of Death or by the women, Daughter of Vengeance.
The American Captain agreed to let her rest, feed her, and allow her to go on her way when she chose.

"So, General, you don't necessarily want her back?" The Captain asked.

"Good heavens man, she is a bloody force of nature. I leave her alone unless she asks for something. Mean while we have arranged for her salary to go into her checking account. As dangerous as she seems to be, so far it is focused only on our enemies."

Cathy persuaded Katia to take a sleeping pill after she ate. The teenager seemed to have developed some trust in Cathy. She got an orderly to bring another cot into that little room so she could watch over Katia. Malok, of course watched closely to monitor the effect of the sedative on Katia and it turned out to be nil. Her metabolism was too strong for it. Still, he had ways of calming her and extended her sleep to 10 hours. Her body had no need for it but her human brain was proving to not be as resilient as he’d thought.

Katia slept late the next morning, and she seemed much cheered by the rest. Cathy took Katia over to the mess so they could eat together. Katia had needed another woman in her life and didn't realize it. How could she, this whole thing was new to her.

Cathy took Katia and looked around in the stores and in the PX. Cathy warned the young woman that in spite of the fact that her breasts did not sag yet, they would if she did not use adequate support. Well, there was no need to worry; there were no bras on the base. Beside neither woman knew of Katia’s specially supported breasts.

Thinking back, Katia doubted that her's would ever sag but decided not to argue. Still, Katia preferred the Salwar Kameez like garb, and no one was willing to argue that with her.

Katia stayed to rest her traumatized mind for a few days and began to think about the kind man she'd met in that village in the desert. Cathy and she talked a lot and gradually Katia began to feel more normal.

Eventually, in the night, with as much food as she could carry she started back to that village. This time she had a GPS and a satellite phone too. "Well, I think I like the Americans better, they aren‘t so bad. Maybe, I'll work for them." She mused.

"Katia, can you hear me"?

"Malok, you know I can, so what do you want"?

"Katia, I think you are still too tired to return to battle".

"Yeah, well do you think I have a choice? My command is certainly not going to allow me to go home like this".

"Katia, I am going to take you home to your country and when you think you are rested enough to come back here, you can tell me". Before she knew it, Katia was sitting in a seat in Malok's exploration vessel, and they were speeding toward the UK.

Suitably shocked, Katia just sat there without saying anything for a few minutes.

"I'll have you home in a half hour child."

"How fast are we going anyhow?"

"Oh slightly less than your "Mach 15".

"So, Malok, how come no one sees you and you do not have our fighters chasing you all over the sky?"

"Oh we have ways of bending light. It is an old idea that works very well."

"You mean I am going to get to see Mummy? Oh my God, Father will be completely overcome with it all."

"OK, Katia dear, I am going to place you just at your parent’s home. Do tell me when you are ready to come back."

At first Katia had been thinking of a few days but as her country and then Worcester hove into view, she thought that she would like longer.

"Mayn't I have a fortnight or even two?"

"Yes dear, you may have two fortnights, because when you go back, your assignment will be much different. You have seen enough pain. Now that I understand the problems, I am going to put you to helping to develop some other sources of income for the Afghan People"

"Oh, thank you so much Malok."
With that, Malok brought his ship swiftly in over her house and let her off in front of her childhood home.

To Be Continued Thanks Holly for all your editing help.

*Photo credit: David Guttenfelder/ AP

Lt Katia in Afghanistan Ch 2

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

17,500 < Novella < 40,000 words

Genre:

Non-Transgender

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Other Keywords:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Lt Katia In Afghanistan

Ch 2

Katia has two fortnights back home near Worcester, with her parents, relaxing and trying to adjust to being a woman. She's been dealing with the effects of PTSD, but Malok has been able to help by making internal repairs to her mind, and being with her folk will help much.

With that, she found herself standing on the side of the road outside her home near Worcester at Summer Hollow along Bransford Road. She timidly walked up to the steps. Judging by the position of the Sun it was close to noon. Her Mum should be home, and her Father should be at work.

“Oh, my gosh, it had been less than six months since I’ve been home, but now it is June and the flowers were out and the day is quite sunny.” She thought to herself.
She just loved their brick home and the neighbourhood with all the hedgerows. And it appeared as if Daddy had done something to the roof. Oh, and he'd torn out the lawn and put a drive up to the house!

“Oh, goody, a skylight too and over the tub?”

Katia found the key right where it should have been and let herself in, thinking that if there were any screaming on her Mum's part it would be in the house and not in the street.
Katia stood quietly just inside the entry. "Mum?" she said calling softly at first and then repeating herself but more loudly.

"Jane is that you?" Mum was referring to their neighbour.

The young soldier could hear approaching footsteps.
As soon as Mum came around the corner, she said, "Mummy, I have something to explain to you."

"Who are you and what are you doing in my home?"

"Please Mummy, can we sit and talk? I have been gone so long and…" Katia began to sob uncontrollably; sinking to the tile floor. It would be a long time before Katia would be totally accustomed to the powerful surges of such feminine emotion. In retrospect, it probably kept Mum from fainting dead away.

"Oh, dear child, I have no idea who you are but there, there, I will help you if I can."
Somehow, Marge, Katia's mum, helped her over to the couch and got her sat down. It took her a long time to allow the girl to cry herself out, but eventually they moved into the kitchen for some tea and biskies.

"May I have the spiced Black with a bit of sugar and cream the way I like it?"
Poor Marge had seemingly gone into complete denial and for all intents and purposes acted like everything was normal.

"Yes dear, just the way you like it, I see."

*******************************************************

"So, girl, you are telling me that you were once my son Frank?"

"Yes Mummy, and Daddy calls you Toodles."

Katia looked at her Mum. She seemed to be coping awfully well, and then her eyes seemed to lock. Katia scrambled around the table just fast enough to catch her when she fell.
She easily carried Mummy back into the living room and laid her on the couch. Then she walked over to Daddy's liquor cabinet and poured a stiff drink of Scotch. Katia disliked it herself, but she thought that it would be good for Mum when she wakened.

Katia paced the room; on the mantle was a picture of her father, and then was a family picture of the three of them. Daddy had his uniform on, and looked quite dashing. Mummy was dressed very nicely, and Frank was wearing his Sunday best. Katia tried to remember when the picture was taken and finally decided that it must have been taken not long after they'd moved out here to escape the nuisance of the flooding river. Frank must have been about 10 years old.

Above the pictures hanging on the wall was a sword. It had been given to Daddy by an Iranian after the police action taken against the failing government that had been shooting at fleeing refugees in the Straight of Hormuz in 2012. Thousands of fleeing Iranians died there before forces from Saudi Arabia, (US and British Mercenaries) forced them to stop. Subsequently, the rest of the world, including China and Russia moved into Iran, over threw the government, and amazingly all the world powers left once the Mullahs were put out. It was still an Islamic country but followed the Turkish model for government.

George Grace had flown some of the refugees back to Iran, and amazingly had a man that would be part of the cabinet in the new government as a passenger. The sword was a gift of gratitude.

This new life as a woman was rattling Katia badly and was very hard for her to cope with. It was not so much when she was in combat, because she just kept on, business as usual. Now things were very different.

She’d quietly left home several months ago, vaguely hoping not to return alive. Then came the miraculous incident that put her in her present state. In the combat zone, being female for her was not such a big adjustment at first, because she was so strong and her mission demanded all her attention. It was not until her captivity and rapes that she was suddenly slammed into the woman’s reality; men‘s attitude about women, and their vulnerability before them. As Katia, she was quite happy and felt as if she were for the first time actually “herself”. Still, it was a huge adjustment, and she’d really no time to alter and order herself as a woman after Malok put her back together. Now, she needed time to think; to adjust to her new life; fit into her skin.

Any decent psychologist would have put her in a situation where she’d had months and lots of counselling to finally come to grips with the changes. But, no, Malok had not done that for her, perhaps out of simple ignorance of the human race. The idea was starting to hit her now and behind that she could feel anger and tears. “Not NOW!” She pleaded with herself. “I can not be laid out because of grief and hysteria now!” She pleaded!

Mum began to stir and Katia was right at her side with the Scotch. It took a few minutes and a couple shots, but pretty soon Mummy was calm enough.

Concentrating very hard. "So, my Frank was killed and then someone put him back together and you is what I have as a replacement for my son?"

"Please Mummy, I know this is very hard for you but it has been hard for me too."
Marge looked over at Katia and saw her hopeful, loving expression. "Oh Gawd, how can I hate such a darling thing?"

So, having been lubricated adequately by the Scotch, Mum and Daughter spent the afternoon talking. And, in the course of the day, Mummy managed to get Katia into one of her own skirts and a blouse that she herself had not managed in a few years. That being after a good bath, and shampoo.

“I wonder if Frank ever suspected how much I wanted a daughter?” Mum thought to herself as she knelt by the tub, shampooing Katia’s long hair.

Katia just loved it as Mum sat on the side of the tub doing the shampoo and the rinses.
"Girl, you are going to have to take better care of your hair!"

"Yes, Mummy, but it has been dreadfully difficult out in the desert of Afghanistan."
Mum looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, "Well, it is entirely unsuitable for a lady to be traipsing around in that awful place with all those men about, I say!"

"But Mummy, it is my job. They shall be quite upset with me if I just up and leave."
As the time had passed, Marge realized that Harry, her husband would soon be home from his job at the agency. Perhaps he could set her mind aright. Women had no business in this awful affair.

"Oh dear, we must be getting dinner ready for your Father!"

"May I help you Mummy?"

"Sure darling, I will set you on the vegetables, while I do a bit of meat for the Barbi."
It was fun being home and though she'd had little previous training in the Kitchen, Katia seemed to have come by a talent for it now. As they finished, Katia walked back into the liquor cabinet and poured Daddy some Scotch in a drinking water glass. Then when she heard his car, she handed it to Mummy and ran into the loo. She heard some talking for quite a long time, and then it got quiet.

Katia just stood before the mirror in the meantime , exploring her face, for the first time in quiet, non threatening circumstances. Later, sneaking out Katia heard them in the back by the Barbi. She could smell the meat and knew that it would taste so good. “Raw goat is OK, but the way that Daddy does it is much better“, she mused.
On the table outside, she noticed that the bottle of Scotch was empty.
She stood nervously near the back door, "Daddy?"

He turned round to look at her. His eyes got big and he turned to Mummy.

"Who did you say this was Marge?"

"Your Daughter, Dear."

He sat there dumb looking for a minute and turned back to his wife.

"The hell you say?"

"Yes dear."

"Yes, well … What’s her name, Frank hardly suits her I’d say”.

“No dear, her name is now Katia”.

“Katia, is that your name?"

"Yes Daddy"

"Yes, well she's got better manners and um looks than Frank, doesn't she?"

"I think so dear."

"Yes, well Katia, do you mind getting me another bottle of Scotch. Go on be a good girl would you?" he sighed. "Marge, I think I shall be calling off work tomorrow as I plan to have a rather severe headache in the morning."

"Of course dear, I think I shall be joining you".

About 10:00 PM, Katia managed to help both Mummy and Daddy up to their room and saw them into bed. Katia went back to the kitchen and made a lot more food. The roast was good, along with that chicken, and that sack of potatoes was too. With a satisfied burp, Katia made her way up to her old room and slept until late the next day.

In the morning, it did not take her long in the Bathroom, and after her shower, she did manage to get the tangles out of her butt length hair, though it was still damp. She’d borrowed some of Mummy's hair conditioner and that helped a lot.

Katia decided to go shopping. She managed to find her old ATM card in her room to pay for any shopping she might do.

Her parents were still not up when she went down to the Kitchen. She could see that the food would be all gone soon, so she ran into the Tesco at Worcester to get more. She managed to roll Daddy's car down the street a ways so that her parents would not waken at the sound of the engine.

“Malok?” Do you think there is a way to reduce my food requirement?

“Well, Katia, as long as you are not expending tremendous quantities of effort you will consume less.”
“I still am consuming much. I am worried that I will eat my Mum and Father out of house and home.”

“Ok, Katia, I will think about it. I could put a power cell in you to power everything but your torso and head. Artificial power makes your inner organs and brain cells rather short lived. I will think about it and prepare one. You’ll have to come up to my ship to do the procedure.”

“Thank you Malok”.

Malok did not say anything to Katia but her word choices and the tension levels in her body were alarmingly high. Doing a few minutes research he found that Katia was suffering from acute PTSD and could begin acting out on the slightest provocation. It was then that he realized that the human was much less durable than the artificially grown artificial brain units that made up much of his own civilization.

Malok was networked with six of them himself, and he could activate a dozen more on very short notice. That was not to mention the brain units that ran his runabout, and Mother Ship concealed up beyond their moon.

He’d have to decide what to do about her stress/trauma levels before she went out again. Keeping that in mind, he set his resources to locating the best treatments for her condition.

Katia tried to ignore the stares she attracted wearing Mum's Skirt and Top. Being braless, was so obvious and that seemed to make the men slobber all over themselves, but the women were dreadfully snooty. It was her boots with Afghan dust still on them that really put her over the top, she thought. Still, the machine took her card so she could pay for the food, and Katia was soon on the way home with the car loaded down with it all.
When she walked into the Kitchen through the back, Mummy and Daddy were sitting at the table looking decidedly limp. Perhaps it was from the brown bottle flu. Katia was quite careful to put the food away quietly and only once knocked a skillet onto the floor from its perch on an upper shelf.

"I'm terribly sorry Mummy and Daddy. It shant happen again, I promise."

After several cups of Coffee, and some biscuits, they began to look slightly better.
"Mummy, I was getting some very ill mannered stares at the store this morning. Do you think we might go shopping to get me a few clothes?"

Mummy's eyes brightened somewhat in spite of the state of her pounding head.

"Give me a bit dear and we can go shopping in Worcester or Birmingham if you like."

"I would love to Mummy, do you think you are up to it?"

Still monitoring, Malok could easily see that since she had come out of the war theatre to a safe place, her subconscious had allowed her mind to regress nearly to adolescence.
"I am quite sure dear." Marge smiled at Katia. The idea of a shopping expedition seemed to be rejuvenating her astonishingly. The woman was only in her 40's and still quite full of enthusiasm.

They got Daddy situated in front of the Telly, watching Football (Soccer to you yanks), and were soon on their way. Today, it was Manchester United against a team she had not heard of; some obscure Welsh team.

They actually did find the basics in Worcester. Along the way, they discovered that Katia was 32 D and very hourglass shaped. She really had little idea about fashion but along the way, the women decided that Katia did not like revealing, sexy clothing. Eventually finished, Katia wore a pair of Pink nursing pants, and over that a White flowered dress that was slightly above her knees.

"Mom, I am so new to all this, I just don't know what to make of it. I can tell you that bras are just awful though."

"I understand darling, and most women find that when they get home, off come the shoes and bra."

"Mummy, it seems like such a bother to get undressed and dressed again when I come home"
"Well, dear, you don't have to undress to get shed of your bra."

With that, Mummy showed her how to reach behind herself, unsnap the thing, and then reach up each sleeve to pull the straps off her shoulders and past her hands. Katia laughed so hard when she was able to reach down inside her front and pull the bra out like a rabbit out of the hat!

Her Mum looked quite smug.

Katia was quite incensed one night when they'd all gone out for Dinner, and the establishment refused to serve her a beer without her Father‘s permission! The steak was quite good and she easily consumed their much advertised 72 oz one and all the chips and salad she wanted.

Later that night … "Malok!"

"Hello Priya"

"Don't sweet talk me Malok, I am not your 'dear'."

"Oh, my are we being petulant tonight?"

"You can't patronize me and manipulate me! I demand that you…" With that the most delightful feeling began to wend its way from head to toes. Katia nearly passed out, but instead just sat on the floor feeling absolutely exhausted and wonderful.

"What was that?"

"How do you feel now dear?"

"Gah!, what happened, did you do that?" Katia was breathing in deep gasping lungfuls. It took her longer to get her eyes to focus once again."

"Do I make my point dear?"

"You can't do that … no please, I neeeeeed to um gasp, talk!"

This time Katia was flat on her back on the floor of her room. She dozed for a few minutes, and then sleepily she asked, "Malok, I need to talk to you?"

"Are we going to be civil now? You could refrain from shouting disrespectfully at me."

"Ok, I'm sorry, please don't do that to me again."

"What is it you need dear?"

"Oh, so you have decided that you are my guardian now?"

"I have been watching you with your parents and you are quite solicitous and respectful to them. I thought that I would like the same. And, in Afghanistan, the women all have guardians”.

"But they are my parents, and I love them. Their bond made me!"

"Well, child I could have left your smoking flesh laying there in the desert?"

"There is that." She ceded.

They chatted for much of the night and in the end, Malok agreed that he would provide her with a driving license, but she would remain just 16.
"Malok, I want to be able to have a beer with my parents at dinner without having to ask Daddy for it!"

"Katia, I have never encountered the fermentation of fruit juices, and I have no idea what it would do with your altered metabolism. You do realize how strong you are? You might hurt someone in a drunken fit, or even destroy the building”.

"So, you are not going to allow me to drink? What if I do it at home?"

Katia experienced a moments' dizziness. "I just fixed that Katia."
"You can't, you didn't." She screamed.

"Well, I just did!" Malok huffed back at her.

She sat there for a few minutes. "Fine, just FINE!" She huffed.

"Katia, I thought we were going for mutual respect?"

She huffed and puffed and pounded the floor; being careful not to put holes in it.

"Are you OK?" Her Mum's voice sounded through the door.

"See what you did!" she mentally blasted at him.

"Yes Mummy, I was just exercising."

"Good heavens girl don't hurt yourself".

"I'm quite sorry Mummy, I'll be more quiet".

To Malok she said, "Will you please not do that other thing to me again, it is quite distracting."

Malok finally agreed to allow her to have beer with her family at home with the stipulation that on the second one she would be very sleepy. Katia at length acknowledged that having her in a drunken rage could be far too destructive.

Later, Katia went down to help her Mum get dinner ready. She was quite willing to help and had natural talent, but no real knowledge of cooking. So, she found herself slicing onions and peeling potatoes.

"When are you returning to Afghanistan Katia?"

"I don't know for sure Mummy, Malok said that I could have two fortnights, but now that I am not there, I do not want to go back. It was simply awful, and I died there." Katia began to cry softly, and he Mum wrapped her in the sort of hug that only a Mother can give.

Afghanistan has been too hard for you and from what you say, you have endured horrible hardship.

"Oh, I know that Mummy, but it has all been so hard for me to take in; the awful things I had to do and the unspeakable things that my captors did to me. It was quite difficult to survive. They'd have killed me had they not wanted to make a spectacle of me for their "Allah".

Katia's Mum turned around and gathered her in her arms and Katia immediately burst into tears and great, gasping sobs. "There there dear, let it all out, you are safe now".
Katia awakened on the couch with a soft blanket covering her. She could hear Mummy and Daddy talking in the Kitchen.

She sat up and looked around for a moment, allowing wakefulness to fully take hold. In a minute or so, Katia walked into the Kitchen. “Mum, Daddy, I think I shall go for a walk down the path for a while. It does not appear as if it will rain soon.”

“Alright dear, be careful and don’t be too long, because I was going to start on Tea soon.”

“Alright Mum, I won’t be too long.” Despite the weather, she still took her slicker with her. This was after all England.

Katia started out the door after putting some treckies on and taking her rain slicker out of the closet in the hallway. She remembered so many days like this as she grew up. White, puffy clouds drifting across the countryside. With scarcely any warning some would darken and begin a down pour of rain, to begrudgingly depart but only after everything in sight is drenched.

She walked on the public trail that led down along hedgerows, across a farmer’s field and finally down to the shallow stream. It was so pleasant to get back out amongst the trees she’d grown up with. Katia sat down to think about the flowing water, the reeds and just how much she enjoyed being home, if just for a little while.

She reflected on all the violence and the shocking conditions that people encountered every single day. In spite of the bad conditions over there, Katia found herself missing Sabeen and Afia. Guilt overwhelmed her when she thought about not being able to save Afia from her bastard husband. She wept violently for a few minutes and then it settled into more gentle tearfulness. Finally, later, the quiet and peaceful thicket influenced her mind and peace began to settle in. Katia was just discovering that tears were strengthening to women.

In the distance she heard an explosion, and her strong hearing could pick out the sound of her mother screaming. “OH, gad what have they done now!” She said, her voice carrying all the exasperation she felt.

On her feet instantly, Katia ran home in a tenth of the time it had taken her to get down to the stream. Barely breathing hard, Katia rounded the corner into her back hard to find her Father standing dazedly with her gun in his hand. Her Mum was sitting on the steps weeping uncontrollably, “Father, what have you done? You’ll have the plod down on us, you will!”

“Oh Mum, just calm down, I was only testing it, you know. I had no idea that the thing would really fire at all, it looks like a toy, it does! Gad woman, who would have expected this?”

“Father, I hear the sirens of the plod coming now! What are we going to do? Your acting like a plonker has got us into a right mess.”

Katia almost laughed for a moment as she strode over to her father and reclaimed her “Pop Gun”. “Father, look what you have done? You could have destroyed the house!”

“Malok, what do I do?”

“Good grief Katia, don’t get so excited!”

“Malok, it is illegal for him to have a gun. He does not have a license, or for that matter I do not either! I hear the sirens, someone has called the Coppers; they will be here any moment.!”

Quick thinking Malok said, “Katia, I will beam the gun to my ship, and if you stand back I will shoot some asteroid fragment collection into the hole. You can say that you have no idea what happened.”

“What about the neighbors? I am sure that they saw something.”

“I have just moved to right over the crater. I can see her looking out her window. She’ll be quite intoxicated in just a moment.”
Suddenly, a window in the neighbors house shattered and there was a soft yelp from Sadie her neighbor. “She’s too nosy anyway.” Thought Katia.

~~~

Later, after the police had left. Katia talked to Malok again. As it happened, Malok had the security routine set to “off” for her gun while he reprogrammed some features, thus leaving a window for Daddy to cause mischief.

“Malok, please don’t allow that to happen again?”

“Well, my sweet, meet me this afternoon, and I will give you an implant that will make it so that the gun will only fire if you and the weapon are close to each other. That should take care of any future problems. Your power alteration is ready also.”

“Since when did I become, your “sweet”?

“Katia, do we really want to discuss this right now”?

“I suppose not Malok.” Katia conceded. Strangely, she had not been that upset at his use of the term, “my sweet”.

In the late afternoon, Malok beamed her up to his ship and had her lay on a table. She remained conscious and able to chat as he worked away on the power conversion and the resetting of her weapon protocols.

Malok told Katia, “I have changed my mind about your weapon, and designed a depression in your right hip so that it will always be on your person, yet it will not be visible or accessible to any one but you. You can bathe or run around naked and no one will know it is there. You can just place your hand near it and “will” it into your hand.”

“Thank you Malok”

“You are quite welcome dear.”

Katia did not immediately reply. Something was happening to her. As she sat there quietly, Katia realised that she was feeling some affection for Malok. She felt a flush of realization pass through her and it felt good. After all, he’d done a great deal for her since the accident, and for not the first time, Katia thought upon the fact that she was living the life of the person she’d always been inside but had to conceal.

“Thank you Malok”

To her mind, Malok’s voice seemed to catch just for a moment. She looked at him and thought she could recognize a deep but unvoiced emotion in him.

“You are quite welcome. You know that my killing you was an accident. I had not intended to do so, but was extremely surprised at what I found.”

Katia just laid there smiling as he finished his work.

“Will I still be pretty when you put in that power cell? She asked.

“Dear, you will not even know it is there, and at the rate you expend power, it will outlast you by thousands of years.”

“Thank you so much. When I was young, I was always jealous of the girls at the pool lying around in their bikinis.”

“Such public exposure is considered so vile on my planet.”

“But Malok, no harm is meant. We just want to have fun.”

“On my planet, such females are considered the lowest of the low. Respectable females realize the power they have over men, so they conceal themselves because of mercy for them.”

“Malok, that is so lame! You mean to say that Men have no control over their own bodies? I thought you were so much more advanced than us?”

“Katia, one of the reasons I was in Afghanistan is that I could not understand how a country with such good values could be so backward.”

“Yeah, OK, fine, making women wear Burquas, stoning them, beating them, imprisoning them in their homes …”

“Katia, stop. I have seen all that and more and it makes me ill. I can not understand how it is happening. On my own planets, we live moderate, modest lives and have no wars at all.”

They kept talking in the same vein for late into the night, and eventually they came to agreement that something needed to happen to help not only Afghanistan but the rest of the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Mum and Katia were in Worcester, and were just walking past what turned out to be a Halal Meat market. Katia was frustrated because she could not find clothing that she found suitable; not knowing that Malok had sneakily placed a preference for the clothing of his home world in her mind. He’d not meant to harm Katia, but for him being dressed that way was only proper.

So, they were almost to this market when a young woman walked out, presumably after buying meat, and Katia could see that she had almost the sort of pants and long top on that she really liked.

She stopped the young woman, who was at first somewhat alarmed, but softened when Katia told her how much she liked the young woman’s outfit. As it turned out, the Woman’s name was Hala, and she apparently was quite flattered by Katia’s praise of her garb.
They talked about the woman’s native country of India for a few minutes and then Katia asked her if she could tell her where she had gotten her clothing.

“Katia, I get my things mailed to me since it is in London. It is called Muslim Base, near Middlesex. Are you Muslim”?

“Good heavens no Hala, but I just love your outfit and should like to have some”.

“Well very good, if you have something to write with I can jot it down for you. I order so much from that store that I have memorized the addy for it”.

The girls and Mum chatted on for a few minutes, and they exchanged phone numbers; agreeing to meet sometime for tea or some such”.

After they parted, Mum and Katia were in the car on the way home, “Katia, do you realize that was a Muslim woman? They are the same ones that originally got this business going by the tragedy in New York.”

“Mum, that was over 20 years ago. The young woman did not seem violent at all. She was actually quite nice, and I would like to get to know her better.”

“Very well Katia, but please do be careful. I lost my son over this business.” Mummy said with an emotional edge to her voice.

“But Mummy, look what you got as a replacement!” Katia said and then giggled sweetly.
Katia knew very well that Mum had not finished adjusting to things at all, but she had also known that within Frank, dwelt a feminine spirit from the time when she carried him, though they had only spoken of it once after she’d caught him as a child prancing around in her heels. She’d known that Henry, her husband had taken quite a strong hand with Frank, but she’d felt that what he’d done was correct, no matter how much it worried her.
Had Marge, her Mum known what was on Frank’s mind when he went to Afghanistan, she’d have felt quite heart broken.

When they arrived back at the family home on Summer Hollow, they found the Police were at the house once again; along with what turned out to be University People. The men from the Uni had decided that they’d found meteoric fragments in the hole, and were astonished that it had left a hole 3 meters wide.

“Good heavens man, weren’t you frightened when the bloody thing lit right at your feet”?
“I most certainly was, but due to my experience in the military, I held up, I suppose.”

Katia giggled, “Mum, Daddy is putting it on a bit thick don’t you think”?

“Oh, be good to your father dear, he is having his moment of glory”.

Both women laughed a little too loudly and that got the attention of the Police and the Uni people.

“Oh, hi daddy, I am sorry that we have interrupted your meeting, we’ll just be carrying the packages into the house”.

Later, as Katia and her Mum were working in the kitchen, they both giggled when they saw the nosy neigbor leading a repair man around to the broken window. She looked much the worse for wear, and quite sad too.

“Too much drinking don’t you think Mum?”

“Really Katia, that is a bit mean don’t you think”?

“Mum, she is nosy and mean spirited”

“Yes, but she keeps an eye on the place so well that we seem to never have to call the Coppers”. They both had a nice laugh over that.

That evening, they had Sheppard’s Pie. Mum had deliberately made much to much and later took a dish of it over to the neighbor. She returned looking quite sad.

“Katia, the poor woman is simply destroyed. She says she has never had a drink in her life, and fears that her reputation is lost. I am quite sad for her.”

“Are you getting this Malok, we need to do something” Katia mentally sent to Malok.
“Malok said, “Don’t worry about her Katia, I will alter her memory of the event, and repair what needs it.”

“Oh, thank you Malok” !

Later that evening, before sunset, Katia decided to go for a run to allow her to think. She thought about Frank’s old running gear but it was twice her size, so she simply put on some cotton leggings and a nice loose top. She’d just got some pastel blue trainers and was soon off down the route she used to take before she’d gone to Afghanistan.

The countryside was pleasant especially once she’d gotten away from the houses. It was a few miles to Stony Cross, and then she turned around and started home. She was passing a field where laborers were picking Onions. The smell of the freshly disturbed soil was wonderful; so much better than the smell of exploded munitions.

As she ran along, she noticed a small child sitting in the dirt, crying loudly. She could hear an adult speaking abusively to the child. “Get up you worthless child or I will give you reason to complain”, the man said.

They were at least 100 yards away, but Katia could hear the exchange clearly. It was appalling what was happening to the child. Katia was about to run out there to intervene, but Malok interrupted her.

“Katia, I have called the Police for you. They’ll be here shortly. I don’t think it will be a good idea for you to get involved.”

“Thank you Malok, we wouldn’t really want the wrong people to know that I am not in Afghanistan”.

“Well, Katia, I have been doing some things over there, to make them believe you are still in the field there.

“Run along now dear, enjoy yourself, the plod will be arriving soon.”

The next day, in the Independent.

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/the-new-slave...

Katia was just finishing breakfast in the morning when her Mum handed her a narrow little barrel with a rod sticking out the top. “What’s this Mum”?

“I make my own butter, cheese and bread now, want to have a go at it”?

Mum showed her how to push and pull on the rod, and in 20 minutes her Mum stopped her.
“Alright love, let’s see what we have.”

Her Mum pulled the rod and lid out of the small barrel and with it came a big clump of whitish yellow butter.

“Goodness Mum, how long have you been doing all this”?

“Well since those horrible bombings in 2018, I have been looking at things very hard. It is very plain that the terrorists mean to drive us into the ground. I only just started getting organized since you left”.

“Mummy, please do not worry, I think something good is going to happen. The terrorist problem will be much less soon I hope.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After bed time, Katia suddenly found herself in Malok’s ship, for a few moments and then standing outside St Johns Chippy. It was a tiny stucco building in a line of row buildings along St Johns street, that she had gone to many times with her Mum and Father as a child.

“My goodness, Malok is that really you?”

“You see Katia, my own body does not look like a human one, so I have to stay in my ship, so I just put together a little Puppet to sit with you. Since you are only 16, I can buy you beer as long as you behave yourself”.

“Oh, so you see yourself as my guardian, do you?”

“You wanna argue the point Baby?” He said in a perfect “Shwartzenhammer” accent.
Katia just had to laugh because she remembered the famous actor from when he played in all those post destructionist Science Fiction movies as a robot. The fish and chips were jolly good. The beer was wonderful.

“Thank you for allowing me to drink a beer or two.”

“I was just concerned about the compatibility of your beverage with our alien physiology.”

“So, we are OK, then?”

“Yes, but do not get intoxicated. I do not want to see what you could do to a pub.”
Later that night, Katia and Malok were talking. “Malok, this semi war has gone on for a very long time. Can you really help us to make it better?” “I hope so Katia dear.”

“I have been reviewing your world’s history and think I have found signs of external interference? It is risking getting in a lot of trouble with Mom for violating the regulations of the counsel in regards to sentient races, but I have seen a couple artefacts that make me suspicious that another race has been planting seeds of warfare here for millennia. I don’t know how to do all the investigation though.”

“How soon will you know Malok?”

“I just don’t know, so I have to be really careful because if I go running to Mom about this, I’ll get punished for such sloppy work, and then grounded for messing around on this planet; you know making a mess and causing pain to a developing sentient race.”
“Malok, how old are you anyhow. Why are you worried about getting in trouble with your Mum?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Malok?”

“Knock it off Katia !”

Instinctively Katia knew that something was wrong, and with Malok suddenly getting so defensive, she suspected it was his age. She thought about it for a few moments, remembering her own past life. “OMG” she thought, “Malok, in your own civilization, you are just a little kid, aren’t you?”

He looked at her as only an alien from millions of light years away, who was impersonating a human could. He looked extremely guilty and embarrassed.

“Malok, do your parents know you are here?”

“Well, they just told me to go find something to do.”

“So, they don’t actually know you are here?”

“I’m not hurting anything, and I fixed you up! I didn’t mean to break anything!” he said petulantly.

“So, in earth years, how hold are you?”

“Well, um in earth years, I would compare to a 14 year old.”

“OH, Bloody Hell !”

“What, we have a 14 year old running around, about to cause WWIII? You’re kidding“ !

“It’s more complicated than that Katia. In lots of ways I am a lot older than that but when you think of the level of responsibility I am allowed, it is about equivalent to a 14 year old in your society”.

“So, a 14 year old blew me up and made me into a living Barbi Doll”? Great, that is just great”!

“Um Katia, I didn’t do it like that, but my ship has all sorts of built in stuff to keep me from getting injured and to protect me because I am um special”.

“What?”

“Yeah, my Mom is the ruler of our sector now, but when I get of age, she wants to step down early”.

With that new revelation, Katia and Malok spent the next few hours with him explaining everything, and Katia threatening to turn him in to his Mum.

“Mom will really get pissed if she realizes that I made such huge changes to you.”

“Yes, I imagine that she might.” Katia said, but it was obvious by her tone of voice that she was not upset. “Listen Malok, if I get a vote, I just want to say that I really like how you put me back together. I would have loved to take a girl like me dancing.”

“Yes, I have been reading about your human dancing, would you like to go?”, said Malok.

“Most certainly not, no Urethan girl would be caught dead …”

“Katia, please stop a moment.”

“What? Wait, I am not from Ureth! Malok, what did you do to me?”

“Katia, I was building you from a completely destroyed human and I had no idea what a human female really was at the time. So, I simply programmed you with many of the social mores of those from my planet, and from what I could see of human females in that area. I meant no harm.”

“Oh, gad, then I am lucky that I was not running around in one of those bloody blue Burqas” And, that is why I am sat here in long silk pants and long top? Malok, I want to go dancing and I also demand that you fix me so that I will be a proper English girl.”

“Remember Katia, we are going for mutual respect here.”

“Alright, please make me like I should be?”

It took them a while to get sorted and come to agreement, but later they were at Tramps dancing like college students. Sifting through his data base, Katia suddenly knew perfect Belly Dancing, UK style.

The dancing and laughing was quite beneficial to Katia’s state of mind and they did not get tired until the club closed at 3:00 AM. As they left the club, three blokes started harassing them, and Malok was hard pressed to restrain Katia from leaving them broken lifeless hulks.

“But Malok, they wanted to hurt me and you both! They did not deserve to live!”

“Please Katia, don’t be so petulant. There are consequences for that sort of behaviour her in the UK, and we don’t want to attract attention. Katia, this behaviour is exactly what I feared in you. I had told you that I was concerned what you would act like with some intoxicant in your blood stream.”

“Ok, I am sorry. I got a bit carried away. Can we go dancing tomorrow night?”

“Katia, it is quite late, so I think that you actually mean tonight, don’t you?”

“Oh, very well, can we?”

“Well, I have some work to do, but I think we may.”

“Oh, thank you Malok.” she said, and then she kissed him on the cheek.

They were both stunned. Katia just drifted for who knows how long. Malok looked confused.
“On my planet, we do not touch like that without an agreement” He said, but his voice was very soft and lacked conviction.

“I don’t know what came over me. I mean I am so grateful to you for all your help and we get along and we have so much in common and you want to help us and we think alike, and …”

His fingers were on her lips. “I know Katia. I would not have it otherwise.”

He looked at her for what seemed like a long time.

“Malok spoke first, “I have affection for you, but we can not be joined. I have obligations and we are biologically not compatible. It would be like a whale and a Tiger joining”

Katia had tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m the Tiger, right?” Katia was trying to be strong; struggling so hard to be strong; it was not very convincing.

“Katia, it is a privilege to know you. You are very strong, and if you wish it, we will always be companions. That is the best I can do. Our minds are alike. I wish our bodies were.”

That was hours ago. Katia was at home sleeping and Malok was in his ship thinking. This was so hard and so impermissible to fall in love with an Alien. She would never be accepted as mate were the biology even attainable.

With reluctance, he began perusing her mental patterns; searching for that which bound them. With a sigh, he turned certain neurons off, rerouted certain pathways. Were it possible, his eyes would have filled with tears also. Turning away from the work he’d finished on Katia, he began to examine new data that his probe near the Oort cloud had reported.

Distracted, he did not see the patterns in Katia’s brain restore themselves to their previous state. Katia rolled over in bed, and smiled to herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katia and her Mum were walking in downtown Worcester, near the Narrow Boats. Mum, “I have been home almost a Month, I will have to return to Afghanistan soon.”

“I know dear, but I hate to see you go, I’ve only just adjusted to your new state.”

“What you mean, I don’t think I have yet.” Katia laughed.

“I know it takes a lot to get used to the boys, but you seem to be adapting, even enjoying them.”

“Mummy!!!!”

“Katia, women know these things about each other. You have no secrets from me, I am your Mother!”

The two women hugged with deep affection. In spite of her differences since the last time she was home, it was still obvious that Katia contained just lots of Frank, even today”

~~~~~~~~

That night at home after dinner, Katia’s father called her into his private sanctum, his study, where he liked to think that no woman could enter without his permission.

“Yes, Daddy?”

“Katia, I have something that I had intended to give to you, but when you showed up in this new state, I had abandoned the idea. There is not the slightest chance that I would ever give it to a Woman. You have surprised me. You have demonstrated the spirit and strength that Frank never had, yet I knew that deep inside much of Frank still lived.”

“What is it Daddy?”

“Come here girl.” Laying on his desk was the Persian sword that had hung on the wall for so long.

Seeing it, Katia started to protest, but her Fathers look silenced her.

“I know that you have all that astounding armament and superhuman strength, but I thought perhaps that in case all that fails, you could use a real sword, that has probably drawn blood and more than once.” He picked up the sword and turned toward her.

Katia stood frozen to her spot.

“They say that these things have a living spirit in them. I would not know, but it was given to me by a man that said that the weapon had been used with deadly force by his ancestors.”
With that he handed it to her.
“Oh, thank you daddy, are you sure you want to give it to me?”

“ I would not have it any other way, soldier. I want to protect my interests. “

Katia wrapped her arms around her father and hugged him for the first time in her life. They had not been close when Frank was young. Unwittingly, Father did not realize the spirit in Frank was not evil or weak. She still had not revealed to either of her parents just how lethal she’d been in Afghanistan. Those who had been in real combat, did not talk of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~

In bed that night, the sleeping Katia did not see the sword disappear, and go to Malok’s ship. He examined it carefully expecting to find flaws in the steel that would make it weak but found the structure of it to be surprising stout. He did add a couple enhancements, just for his own pleasure.

Mum had insisted that Katia have a full English breakfast before she would allow her to leave.

“Mummy, Daddy I shall miss you greatly.”

“I want you to be careful, fight well and be honourable. Be The Best!”

“Yes Daddy, I will try my very best to bring credit to the Crown”

“I know you will dear”

“Mummy, my heart already hurts because I miss you, and I am not even out the bloody door.”
“I know Katia dear.”

Speaking out loud, Katia’s mum said, “You! you whoever I have seen Katia with, you protect her or I shall scratch your eyes out!”

For once, Malok spoke directly into Mums head. “I shall do my very best.”

“Well, see that you do.” She said out loud.

“Katia, I can’t possibly ever let your mum and mine meet, it will be absolutely intolerable for the both of us.” Malok said.

With that, Katia disappeared and found herself sat in the seat of Malok’s runabout. In seconds they were passing over the English Channel.

“Katia, I’ve had some probes circulating in the country since I picked you up. There is a huge build up of fighters in the north near Taloqan. I want you to pick up your young religious leader and I will take you there to see if there is a chance that they will talk about building some local industry; see what they think should happen.” Malok said.
In minutes Malok had dropped her near Moqor, and she began to walk in. She’d donned attire suitable to the local culture but not the Burqua. “Let some man try to force me into that!”, she thought.

She’d just entered the village, and with her extremely sensitive hearing, heard some men talking.

“Mamadou said that the invaders were going to come here soon. Do we flee, or do we fight?”
“We will talk to him soon. He is returning from the mountain soon.”

Katia sat out of sight until almost dark when she could see the figure of a man descending the steep trail in front of the village.

“Mamadou, what is this about the western invaders coming here?”

Mamadou had to be really careful. If these two hardline Taliban ever suspected his true affiliations, they would kill him. “It is what I heard in Kandahar, and it will be soon.”
“A man said that you were in Kandahar speaking to the western invaders.”

Mamadou could feel his heart quiver at the accusation. “Let that man face me and we will decide who lives together!”

“We will all meet to plan our strategy later this afternoon, after Asr Prayer. We will bring your accuser.” With that, the men split up and Mamadou moved toward one of the houses.

Katia moved around to intercept him. When he got close, Katia stepped out from her concealment.

“Hello Mamadou.”

Lt Katia In Afghanistan Ch 3

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

Novel > 40,000 words

Genre:

Adventure

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Lt Katia In Afghanistan
Chapter 3
By Gwen Brown
Many thanks to Julia Phillips for very helpful editing.

I am extremely sorry for the delay in the completion of this third chapter of my story. After Christmas, I was beset by illness, a death in the family and similar chaos.

So that there is less need to go back and refresh your memories by re-reading two long chapters,

Chapter 1 dealt with our protagonist going to the war in Afghanistan to either prove himself or die in battle, hopefully the latter. It is there that an Alien Thorian accidentally kills him in self defense when he is caught between the cross fire of Taliban fighters and British soldiers. His body is mostly destroyed but rebuilt using Thorian skills and is now much stronger, partially cybernetic, and female also. In the regeneration process, Malok, the Thorian teenager discovered the young soldier’s feminine nature and decides to honor that as partial repayment for killing the young soldier. “She”, now Katia, is put back into the fray and through her, Malok learns much of the human struggle, and hellish conditions in that country.

In Chapter 2, Lt Frank Grace, now Lt Katia Grace, is at home near Worcester, UK recovering from PTSD, and emotional exhaustion brought on by the fighting and her change from male to female. There are some humorous sections in the chapter but it is mostly quiet for Katia.

So, here we are now at the start of Chapter 3. Katia has just spent a month at home in the UK, resting and getting well, now she returns to Afghanistan to resume her mission. Katia has recently been dropped in Afghanistan near the village where she had previously encountered Mamadou Touri; a Muslim Imam (loosely Preacher) Katia has been approaching the village and suddenly encounters men having a conversation. She hides to listen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Taliban operative says, “Mamadou, what is this about the western invaders coming here?”

Mamadou had to be really careful. If these two hard-line Taliban ever suspected his true affiliations, they would kill him. “It is what I heard in Kandahar, and it will be soon.”

“A man said that you were in Kandahar speaking to the western invaders.”

Mamadou could feel his heart quiver at the accusation. “Let that man face me and we will decide who lives together!”

“We will all meet to plan our strategy later this afternoon, after Asr Prayer. We will bring your accuser.” With that, the men split up and Mamadou moved toward one of the houses.

Katia moved around to intercept him. When he got close, Katia stepped out from her concealment.

“Hello Mamadou.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hello, Salaam Alaykom, it is good to see you once again. So, the village women now call you an Avenging Angel. Is that what you are?”

"I don't know. I don't feel like one. I just want the killing to stop and for the evil men to go away. I want the women not to be beaten and raped every day of their lives,” her eyes began to tear up a little as she finished that last sentence.

"Alhumdilallah, this mission on which you have set yourself is deep in your heart, I can hear it."

"It is, but I am getting tired and I need help. I can't keep being alone."

"It is possible that Allah SWT has sent you, but you are not Muslim."

"No, the folks never attended church." It is obvious that Katia has absolutely no knowledge about Islam, and very little knowledge of any of the Christian faiths.

"So, you are against Allah Subhana Wa Allah Ta Allah?"

“I do not know anything about your Allah at all and if there really was one, then this pain and suffering would not be going on.”

“We do not understand the will of Allah SWT, we are not him.”

They had moved into his home now, and one of the women brought him in Goat Kabsa. (Loosely a highly spiced rice dish with goat meat.) The fragrance of the spices and open fire roasted meat made her all the more hungry.

He saw the roast goat sitting on the floor of the dining area, so he offered Katia some. Katia ate ravenously, she felt so hungry, but Mamadou did get enough for himself. “His men will have to figure it out on their own,” she thought. Katia needed the fuel too much.

"So, why have you come back to my village, little one?" he asked her.

"I don't know. I wanted someone to talk to so I could understand what is going on here. You were gentle with me before. Also, my leader wants you to accompany me up to a place in the North near a village called Taloqan.”

“Your Leader, you work for the Western Invaders do you not?”

“Officially I work for the British Army, but since the change, I now work for someone who you may never meet. He wants to help the people of Afghanistan and suspects that there has been evil interference by a race that does not live in this Dunya (earth)”.

"Perhaps, Allah Subhanahu wa-ta'ala is guiding you?"

"I wish someone would. I'm not 17 yet according to what my memory is telling me. Yet when I came down here I had graduated from College and taken a commission. Something really strange happened out there. Someone had attacked us and suddenly there was this bright flash and then the next thing I know I am like this. You'll never believe this, but I was almost a 14 stone guy before that. Now, I do not know if I weigh much over 7 stone. When I woke up half the mountain in front of me was blown away. We talked briefly about it before, several months ago.”

"Oh yes, I have heard the stories of how that all happened. Many of the Taliban and some innocent were killed that day. Little sister, are you telling me that you were not always a girl?"

"No sir, I wasn't and all the things I can do are just really weird. What am I going to do?" With that she started to wail. She just wept and wept. It was awful. “I wished that I would just die. This is all too much for me. What am I to do?”

When she finished, she was lying in his lap, and like that is so totally not done in Afghanistan with a Muslim man that she was not married to. He was looking at Katia with a strange look on his face.

"This has been so hard on you. I am sorry for your pain, but Inshallah (hopefully, by the will of God), he will guide you to do all things according to his will. May you find the true path? You are a paradox, in that you are at once both extremely strong and brave as a warrior, but inside weak and helpless like a woman.”

Katia was pretty wrung out by then and he helped her get covered up. "Just so you know, I am not for the Burqua. I believe that hair covering is enough, but so you do not attract attention, and make it easier to protect you from the terrorists, I want you to wear this until I get you into a safe place.”

"If anyone starts anything, I'm gonna finish them," she replied grumpily.

He stopped and looked at her for a moment. "You came to ask my help and you do not follow my advice, Wallah!" (Come on!)

"So, OK, I'm like sorry OK?" Katia hung her head, too emotionally tried to argue.

So, with the Burqua pretty much ending her combat readiness, he led her to a place where she could sleep with the women of another family. Katia was greatly surprised to meet Sabeen there, and the two women had a wonderful reunion.

“As Salaam Alaykom sister Katia, I never expected to see you again”.

“Ok Malok, what do I say to her in response?”

This question and his response took .003 seconds.
“Katia, it is a greeting, the correct response is Wa Alaykom Salaam.”

“Wa Alaykom Salaam, sister Sabeen!” Katia gushed. “I am so happy to see you. How have you been? Are you cared for?”

“I am pregnant but have no husband. When the Taliban comes, I hide in my house, but when they leave, the local men are kind to me. We never know when they will show up here.”

“Ah, the young warrior woman of Allah SWT,” said one of the men from the village.

“Salaam Azar, this is Katia. You remember her from before?”

“As Salaam Alaykom, sister Katia, yes I remember that you killed many of the Taliban living in our village. Are you an Angel from Allah SWT?”

“I have no knowledge of your Allah SWT, but I just want to help your people in any way that I can.”

“Alhumdilallah (Praise to God), I welcome your help and may you be shown the good deeds and may you also find the true path.”

The next few days, they all talked about what was going on with their country. Mamadou was pretty discouraged too.

"Most of my relatives were murdered by the Russians. I was 10 years old when they left. My Aunt had taken me to Egypt when I was very young, but I still remember the Russian tanks and helicopters after the Russian murderers left, my people pleaded with the west and other Arab countries to help us to rebuild, but they did not.

“Eventually, the Mujahadeen took over and began to grow Opium, there was much graft and they enslaved our women and children," he said. "I don't like the Taliban and they are swift to murder those who oppose them. They bring enough money into the country to help some. None of those who are not with the Taliban are safe. The Taliban demand that all women are covered, and that has one advantage, because no one can know if a young girl is under there or an old woman. So, in a way, it sometimes protects them," he finished.

Katia found herself attracted to this tall bearded Afghani. He was gentle but did not hesitate to instruct her in the Afghan ways.

"Sister Katia, if we are to work together, you must not kill any more. That must be left up to the men. So much bloodshed is too hard on your gentle soul and I cannot watch that."

This would be a point of disagreement but finally Katia could see that she would have to yield to Mamadou to get him to come with her.

Katia stayed in the village for several days because Mamadou had business to attend to there before he went north. When he had a break from his duties, he walked with Katia as they talked, with Sabeen along so that no one could say that he and Katia were alone and intimate.

“Mamadou, I am not your wife and not subject to Afghan laws and customs. I will not kill unless the situation demands it, I promise.“ Katia was wondering why her body was tingling and butterflies filled her. “If you come north with me, please try to accept that I have my job to do but I will not kill unless it is demanded of me. You must admit that those I exterminated were like vermin.”

She’d tried to be tough but it was such a struggle to have her own way around him. Her whole being just wanted to lay by his side with her head on his chest. “Yalla! (Come on) What am I to do?”

Katia looked at Mamadou long and hard. She felt so attracted to both his spirit and his very masculine body. He was well over 6 feet tall, a foot taller than her. She’d never dreamed that she would fall for one of the enemy. Well, as it turned out, he was not one of the enemies and she would soon find out.

Later that night, “Katia, if you come to love this man, you will have to convert to his religion, Islam,” Malok said.

“Oh Malok, I am so confused. Six months ago, if someone had suggested that this day would come, I would have laughed in their face”.

“So, you have already fallen for him. I had suspected as much.”

“I do not know if I have or not, but he is so kind to me and my body is giving me strange feelings. Can you turn those down so I do not become distracted?”

Malok actually laughed. “Katia, your body is an intricate series of finely tuned mechanisms and one cannot just play with it without regard. I found out as I monitored them during the last months. Being human is much more than one would think.”

“But, you will help me when you can right?”

“Yes, dear Katia, I will help you all that I am able. You have come to mean so much to me, I do not know what I would do if something happened to you.” She could hear emotion in his voice that she had never heard before.

“Malok, what are you saying?”

“Katia, after reviewing the cultures of your planet and some of the most famous literary works here, I have come to realize that I love you very much.”

Katia lay there thinking for a few minutes. ”Malok, are you still listening?”

“I am always listening to you now Katia.”

“Malok, I love you too.” Her heart soared, she had finally faced it.

“Oh, Malok, I wish that you were here so that you could hold me. I really need someone to comfort me right now.”

“My heart aches to do that too, but we know that to do so would cause great disruption in the village.”

“It just feels awful Malok, I love you and I am developing feelings for Mamadou too. You must hate me.” Katia sobbed quietly, in spite of the fact that their conversation was happening silently.

“Dear, what is happening to you is completely normal for my culture. Perhaps in rebuilding your shattered body, some of our genetics got mixed with yours. It is not surprising because I used almost exclusively Thorian flesh to do so. Though it is a surprise to see that it has affected your thinking, if that is what has happened?”

“You boob, did you ever think that perhaps it is you who won my heart?” she replied with some petulance.

“Katia, when the time comes, I will show you my real body, and when you see me for real, and not “through a glass darkly”, you will know why you and I cannot have a physical relationship. So, while our souls can bond, our bodies cannot.”

“I want to see you Malok. I mean really see you and touch you. I insist and I want to do it now.”

“You cannot! Not now anyway. Maybe sometime in the future.”

“Please make it soon, Malok, really soon?”

Malok’s heart was breaking, so he put her to sleep. He could not take more right now, not with all his other worries. One of his probes had discovered traces of passage from one of the hostile alien races, and he knew that if they found him, he would either not live or his Mother would be under great pressure to make concessions to get him back. He did not know which other race, but he suspected the Djinarians. How had he gotten himself in such a dangerous position? One of them could materialise in the skies near him and kill him at any moment. He felt like a fool.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the morning, Katia and Mamadou set out for Taloqan. Sabine and Katia said goodbye to each other. “I’ll try to check in on you Sabine, when my business in the north is complete.” As they walked out of the village, Katia once again waved to Sabine.

The next few hours would shock poor Mamadou, but he would prove himself to be brave and ready to face death if necessary.

Katia and Mamadou had walked perhaps 5 miles from the village and had passed into a deep ravine.

“Katia, I will pick both you and Mamadou up soon, you need to warn him so that he is not too alarmed.”

“Mamadou, in just a few minutes, my leader is going to pick us up so we do not have to travel the hundreds of miles and take weeks to get there by foot or car.”

“Katia, we are too close to the village, I will not be seen getting into a Western helicopter!”

“Mamadou, we will not be seen …”

Seconds later, they just disappeared from the ravine, and anyone who may have been watching, well let them wonder.

“Mamadou, this is Malok,” Katia said.

“As Salaam Alaykom, Malok.”

“Wa Alaykom Salaam, Mamadou.”

“So, you are Katia’s leader?”

“In a manner of speaking but really Katia is too strong to be ruled”.

Mamadou smiled, saying, “I know this with a certainty.” Both men looked at Katia, and smiled.

Katia felt her face burn with embarrassment, but she could not help the silly grin on her face.

“Well it is about time you realised that,” she giggled. They chatted amicably for a few minutes, getting to know each other. Mamadou explained about his early childhood in Afghanistan and then being taken to Egypt when the Russians invaded.

Malok explained a little about his presence on Earth, and his sensitive position with his family.

Katia sat there listening to the two men talk, getting to know each other. “I wonder if Mamadou even suspects Malok’s true nature. I would love to meet his mother. I bet she loves him just as much as do I. I remembered some words I had memorised as a child, ‘My heart panteth, my strength faileth me …’ even used out of context, she felt that way about Malok, and was now wondering if it would be the same for Mamadou?

She felt so conflicted. In her British culture, a single man and woman joined, but in Malok’s Alien culture, it took two men and a single woman to procreate. Now she was falling in love with a man who could have many wives, how many, Katia did not know?

As a man, he had longed to be a woman. It burned within him but he loved his Mum and just could not stand up to his Father. Now that she was, the feelings were so overwhelming at times. Katia had to stifle any complaints because had she not asked for such a fate in life? Had she not longed to feel complete?

Katia’s reverie was broken by the sudden lurching of the craft. “We are here Katia,” said Malok.

She’d listened to Malok and Mamadou talk

“Now listen you two.” Malok said. “Katia, I will try to stay close and provide you with remote surveillance but I know that the interferers have passed through recently and if I detect signs of them, I will need to hide. Mamadou, Katia is extremely lethal but the violence wears on her, so let her fight alongside you, but please be supportive of her emotions and weaknesses?”

Mamadou told Malok that he was quite attached to the little Angel of Allah SWT and did not believe that she should fight at all.

“Well, we will have to work that out in the future,” Malok replied.

“Hey, you two, I am here and can speak for myself, you know?”

“Yes, I know little sister, you have the spirit of a warrior, but the mind and body of woman. You should be protected, at home and feeding your babies.”

“Well, I’m not and I have a job to do. Are you going to help me or am I alone?”

“I will help you sister Katia, but I want you out of the fighting as soon as possible.”

Malok dropped them on a high ridge, “Katia, below you there are what appear to be concealed buildings, see them?”

“Yes, I do”.

Malok told them that he thought that perhaps Mamadou could walk in with Katia trailing and get a feel for what the occupant’s intentions were. That way, local custom could give Katia the defensive advantage.

The two quickly materialised on the ridge above the hidden outpost and began making their way down the trail toward it. Katia was carrying most of the weight, but it did not put her at the disadvantage that an observer would think. As they got closer, Mamadou called out “Salaam Alaykom WA Ramatullah WA Baraktulluh (May the peace, mercy, and blessings of Allah be with you)” loud enough to be heard in much of the settlement.

Many of the men came out of the huts, some bearing AK-47s. There was a tense moment. Katia’s pistol was in one of her hands and her other resting lightly on her sword.

Mamadou said in his least threatening voice, “The avenging angel of Allah SWT is with me, and I come bearing you a message.”

“Wa Alaykom Salaam, so, come and sit with us and we will eat and talk.”

Malok was watching both very closely. “Katia, there are men behind you sneaking up!”

“I hear them coming, the clumsy oxen.”

Katia turned to see raised rifles, so she calmly squeezed off a single shot into the ground between them and her. It impacted with enough power to pelt the men with large rocks; those still standing, dropped their rifles.

She looked over her shoulder to see Mamadou and the villagers all lying on the ground. No one looked threatening there. So she turned around again and advanced on the would be attackers. Six men stood there, but she could hear noise over the ridge. “If you move you die”. Then she ran up and over the hill. There were another dozen who were fleeing and she could plainly see RPG’s and other weapons.

In her loudest voice, she called out,” Stop, or you die, interlopers”. One of them turned and fired at her, so she shot him. As soon as she did, Katia could feel the pain of her offence. Surely she could not be suffering for simply defending herself?

Another man raised his RPG to fire at her, shouting “Allah Akbar!”, but before he could pull the trigger, she shot a round into the ground in front of him, close enough to knock him down but far enough away to simply stun him. His RPG round, arched away harmlessly into a hillside. “In the name of your God, please do not make me kill you. I have come to end the fighting and to punish the evil!” By now, tears were streaming down her face and she wept noisily. Imam Mamadou rushed to her side.

“Brothers, the woman tells the truth. She is an instrument of Allah SWT and does not mean to harm you. She is now under my protection? To harm her is to insult Allah SWT.”

From the distance comes a shouted, “And who are you brother?”

“I am Mamadou Toure ibn (son of: ) Hassan from the south, slave and servant of Allah SWT. We have come here to prevent a great letting of blood that is about to befall this province. Please lower your arms and let us talk about what we should do to please Allah SWT. You have fought long and hard in his name, and now he has sent help.”

A tense exchange of rhetoric went on for several minutes and eventually Katia managed to stop weeping. She hadn’t attempted to say anything because the custom of this land was for woman to stay silent.

Malok said to Katia, “Just for this time, pull a scarf out of your pack and put it around your head according to the custom of the local women. It is not a sign of weakness on your part but to mollify the men and show respect for their position. Hopefully, this will get us through a few meetings.”

Quietly, Katia did as Malok asked, while Mamadou looked on in mute surprise. He thought to himself, “Why would this western woman do such a thing for us?” He could not conceal his surprise, and the men around them took pause at her actions. She even pulled one corner of the scarf across her face to conceal it. She knew that she could kill everyone in sight but felt that killing had not worked in the last 20 years of this war, and in fact, had not worked in the whole of human history, and felt it was time for Malok to be able to help these people and to find the real evidence of Alien interference in human affairs; something he could take home to his parents and they could take the matter before the courts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, Katia sat around the same fire as the men, but behind Mamadou as he had finally gotten them to accept. All three, Malok, Katia, and Mamadou, hoped that this concession would be temporary until the villagers understood the facts of the local situation. They’d tried to disarm Katia, but Mamadou defended her, “You dare show disrespect for the warrior of Allah SWT!?! She is graciously restraining herself at my request. Do not trouble her more.” When the men were no longer looking at Katia, she secreted her pistol away in its hidden spot. Her sword, the one her father had given her, with suitable improvements lay hidden in the folds of her clothing. None were aware of its existence.

Miles away one of Malok’s probes found traces of Ion disruption, normally caused by the passage of an Alien vehicle. By the chemical composition of the ions left, Malok felt that it was typical of a people who had long been a problem for governments in the local group of galaxies. They were smart and shady, so it was extremely difficult to prove enough about them to really prosecute them.

From his hiding place under a rock fall in a ravine near the cliff side settlement, alarm systems suddenly began to warn of the approach of a cloaked, strange vessel at very low altitude and slow speed. Malok quickly lowered his power settings, cutting off all communication with his probe and with Katia. His passive observations witnessed the passage of a cloaked vessel of the hated Djinari; quadruped creatures with exoskeletons and acid blood. They were extremely warlike, but so intelligent that they had managed to use the laws of the civilized races against them in the galactic council.

Malok quickly programmed and launched a humming bird sized probe to follow that intruder to see if it landed and to observe its activities. While it was gone, Malok also sent a subterranean probe toward the area where Katia and Malok were having their meeting. As it tunneled along, it coated the passage left by it with a tiny population of Nanites that would form a communication path that was virtually undetectable. It was an extremely frightened and tense teenaged Malok who waited to hear from his probe and from Katia once again.

Malok was near the Thorian equivalent of “tears” as he began to regret his reckless activities in the past. This playing on Earth was done purposely to demonstrate that he did not have to obey his mother, and he knew that if she had known what he’d gotten himself into, he’d be grounded without privileges for a long, long time.

At the moment he was not as afraid of the Djinari as he was of Mom. They really could not damage him, because, being heir to the throne, he had a way to get home that would tear him out of their grasp without fail, but it would also do a great deal of damage to the space/time of the local solar system. The problem being that most of the living things on earth and Mars would likely perish. Now that he’d seen the Djinari here, he needed to get home to tell his parents and if he could keep a record of it, they would certainly be in hot water. Malok would just have to bide his time. He’d grown so attached to Katia and her people that he could not bear to do them harm.

He had begun to understand the burden of taking on responsibility for his actions, though he did not understand at the time, his Mother would be proud of him for finally beginning to make the connections of an adult.

A half hour after his first remote probe was sent to monitor the Djinari, it arrived back at his ship, and a second probe left to take its place. From now on, the missions of his tiny probes would overlap to provide a continuous flow of telemetry about the Djinari.

Moments later, Malok started getting telemetry from Katia’s location. The tiny probe had surfaced close enough for her to touch it. Its surfacing expelled only a tiny cloud of vaporized soil and rock and the scent of it quickly dispersed. In this case, smoke from the fire certainly masked it.

“Katia, are you there?”

“Malok, can you hear me? I’ve been calling and calling, what happened?”

“Katia, something that is extremely frightening has happened. I was nearly caught by enemies of my people, but managed to hide just in time. I can talk to you as long as you are close to where you are now, but not if you move off too far.”

“Malok, this is really frightening, are they coming here?”

“Not yet Katia, they have landed several miles from your location, and I don’t know exactly what they are doing, but hopefully I will find out very soon.”

In the next several hours, Mamadou spoke to the men around the fire, and some the heavily shrouded women brought them food to eat. There were no blue Burquas up here, a fact that struck Mamadou as a bit odd.

“The Chinese invaders make us mine a certain rock and then fly away with it. Later their soldiers show up and ask us questions like they know nothing of the real reason the West has invaded us, but it is the Western soldiers who guard their activities. Do they think we are stupid?”

This last bit threw Katia for a loop as she tried to understand who it was that was mining here. She’d known that China had been mining in Badakhstan Province for 10 years, but not in Konduz. As the meeting continued, Katia and Malok began to understand that the mining in Badakhstan was the legitimate mining, but the mining in Konduz was, perhaps in fact being done by the Dinari. The Chinese were providing their own labor, but it seemed as if the Dinari were using forced labor of Afghani villagers, including the women and children. They’d cleverly disguised themselves so that no one would be aware of the ruse. The Dinari were periodically killing villagers when they encountered resistance. Meanwhile, the villagers thought that this was all being done by the Western alliance, and sometimes by the Taliban if the villagers were not cooperating with them. So, in the end, the villagers were caught between two opposing forces as the victims of two sides one of which did not even know of the other.

She’d tell Mamadou of her conclusions when they were alone. Katia really did not want to discuss it in front of the other men, in case there was a spy of some kind.

The afternoon gave way to evening, and as the day wore on, the men all paused at certain times to pray the Islamic way. Katia was no Muslim but as she watched Mamadou pray, her heart was touched by his devotion to his belief system he practiced and that fascinated her. The last prayer came after sunset. The evening meal was served, and Katia even helped the women serve it. The men eyed her suspiciously at first but her apparent knowledge of local custom and her apparent obedience to the Imam eased their minds.

As she knelt with a platter near the cooking pot, one of the sisters filled it with a mixture of rice, vegetables and goat meat, one of them, Tutu asked her a question. “Sister, are you the warrior woman that the tribes speak of? If so, how come you obey that Imam?”

“Sister Tutu, I don’t want to kill every man here. I can easily do it but it is so hard for my heart. It makes me feel so much grief, I cannot.”

“So, what good are you as a warrior?”

“I want to find the guilty troublemakers and deal with them. We suspect that there are very few who want blood. The rest follow them because they must or die. We also suspect that there are those here who are not from this country who are profiting off the trouble and we need to find them.” Katia did not bother to tell Tutu that she suspected they weren’t even from Earth because she did not want to alarm anyone.

As the evening meal finished, Malok moved to take Katia to the room the men had allowed him to use. Fahran, one of the men walked up to Mamadou. “Brother is this woman wife to you?” Mamadou worked hard to conceal his alarm.

“No, she accompanies me on my journey.”

“Then do not defile yourself by sleeping with woman who is not your wife! That is Haram (forbidden).”

Mamadou, knowing he’d been caught out could only respond one way, “What would you suggest brother?”

“We have a couple of widows living with us who no man has claimed yet, let her sleep with them so that you may remain pure before Allah SWT.”

Mamadou replied, “Yes, thank you for that. It will ease my mind tonight not being tempted by that woman.” Mamadou knew that he was playing a dangerous game, but he knew that Katia would be OK. He was a little worried about what the men might do to him while he slept. Being an Imam, he was given a room by himself.

Katia thought it strange that they led Mamadou off one direction and her to somewhere else. “Malok, they are splitting us up and leading me to where I don’t know yet.”

“Katia, try not to worry, the probe will follow you. I am not sure what we will do about Mamadou yet. I will send a probe to find him. I wish that I had put a tracker on him.”

As Tutu led Katia along, she turned and used her night vision to follow Mamadou as long as she could. Fortunately, he entered a hut on the other end of the camp and she could see his figure stop through even the stone walls.

“I know that you worry for your man, but we must get inside or risk the wrath of one of the men who is on guard.” Katia decided not to make a fuss in front of Tutu, but vowed to check on the Imam when she slept. It was not that long after they lay down that the woman was deeply asleep. Katia did not know that Malok’s probe had found them and emitted a sniff of gas to make the woman oblivious.

“Katia, get out of that room, I just spread a little gas to keep Tutu sleeping and out of harms’ way.”

“Thanks Malok, I need to find Mamadou and keep him safe tonight.”

“Pick up the probe from the ground right by Tutu and take it with you. When you find Mamadou, put it on the ground and give it a few minutes to go back and attach to its previous tunnel so we can stay in contact.”

Katia did that and was surprised to find that it was only about a foot long and an inch in diameter. She smiled to herself at its resemblance to something she owned, back home in her dresser. She quickly made her way down to the place where she last saw her Imam, and using her sense of smell and astonishingly keen eyes soon located him lying on a mat in one of the back rooms.

“Pst, Mamadou, is that you?”

“Katia, are you OK?”

“I am but I do not like being separated from you, so Malok said I should find you.”

“Everything seems OK for now, but until I know these tribesmen better, I do not trust them.”

“Move over, I am coming through the window. I will not be separated from you.”

“Oh, feisty woman!”

“You bet!”

Katia dropped the probe on the dirt floor of the room, and laid down by Mamadou. “I guess we will have to get married after tonight, huh?”

“Fine, if I marry you, then you must obey me.”

“Only if you give me orders that I like.”

“Woman, you should be beaten for your disobedient attitude,” he gently chided her.

“Would it be fun?” This elicited a groan but no reply from Mamadou.

Katia, laid her head down, and sighed. She stayed awake until the probe resurfaced after having made the connection to the previous tunnel.

“Katia, rest for now, I will awaken you before dawn,” said Malok.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katia did not sleep and instead used her very sensitive hearing to eavesdrop on anyone within her hearing range. The camp was mostly silent aside from the odd groan and some snoring until about an hour before dawn. Then she could hear approaching footsteps. Rising up, she decided that they were coming from the top of the ridge and not from within the camp.

She could hear other footsteps from within the camp and soon they seemed to converge. “Where is the infidel woman?”

“She is in the widow woman’s room. You can blow them both up, one less mouth to feed.”

That just pissed Katia off so much that she was out the window before she even thought to waken Mamadou. “Shit, Malok, can you wake up Mamadou?”

“Sure Katia, but don’t allow your rage to cloud your judgment.”

“Well, you had to have heard what those two bloody asses said, don’t be daft man!”

Katia was busy moving stealthily toward the voices. “Judgment hell, I am gonna kill those two,” she thought.

As she sighted the two, Katia was astonished to see that one of them appeared to be a western soldier.

Fearing that she would get out of range of the underground probe, Katia stopped. “Malok, one of them appears to be a Western soldier! What do I do if he is one of your Djinari?”

“Good insight Katia, but the Djinari are quadruped exoskeleton beings.”

“Well, what if they have done the same thing as you did?”

Malok seemed to think for a while. “It will be too dangerous to engage them with your pistol because the Dinari will detect traces of the explosive I use.”

Thinking quickly, Katia decided that she’d engage them with their own bloody weapons. “Hold on Malok, I’m gonna find an RPG and throw it at them.”

“Katia, they must be fired from the launcher so it will arm them.”

“How about if I throw it really hard?” her voice carried so much menace that it frightened Malok a little.

“I don’t know if that will work?”

Katia ran, tiptoeing down to the now cooling coals of the campfire and found one of the RPG crates. She quickly opened it and ran back up the hill. By now, the noise of her passage had alerted the two killers but it was far too late. Katia threw the round so hard that it broke the sound barrier as it left her hand. It flew the 100 or so feet to the men almost instantly, impacting very destructively at their feet. The impact caused it to explode.

Before anyone could come to see what happened, Katia was again laying at the side of her Imam. What Katia had done was so fast that Malok did not have time to waken Mamadou. After the explosion, there was no need.

“Katia, please tell me that you have not been up to trouble?”

“No Mamadou, I was just cleaning up the garbage.” she giggled softly.

Katia thought that it was strange that she dispatched both of those men and did not feel bad at all. “Now that is how it should feel” she thought to herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At dawn, the men of the village gathered for Fajr (The dawn prayer). It was getting light now so they had been talking about the two dead men that had apparently been killed by mishandling an RPG. “How stupid of them to have mishandled it,’ one of them said as they gathered.

It did not seem to matter to the men if the women prayed or not, and after the prayer they expected the women to have cooked the food. Katia and Mamadou were over near the cooking fire when one of the men grabbed Tutu and began to beat her with a stick. Before Mamadou could stop her, Katia was at Tutu’s side. The next time the man’s stick came round, Katia grabbed it and began to grind it to dust with her left hand.

Looking at her assailant, “That’s my weak hand. The other one is gonna be around your neck if I ever hear of you beating another woman.” By now, her rage was getting the better of her, and then she felt Mamadou’s hand on her shoulder.

“Calm little sister. These people know no different.”

Realizing that she was about to blow the whole mission, Katia let go of his stick, which was now useless. Katia suddenly froze. Through the trees, she could see movement, and a moment later she saw something flying.

Katia turned to Mamadou, and whispered, “Get us out of here fast.”

Looking at the village elder. “I am sorry that this woman has interfered in the business of your people. We will leave now. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Ma Salaam a Imam Mamadou, may Allah SWT grant you wisdom in dealing with this woman.” They quickly gathered their gear, and left the village. Katia had never gotten to perform her original mission. But like a good British soldier, she had never really expected the plan to go flawlessly, though she had not thought it would blow up so completely.

As they walked toward the ridge from whence they came, Katia could see a tiny object tracking them. It was larger than the probes that Malok used and suddenly shot at Katia. Her reflexes were so fast that she dodged the first shot and blew it out of the air with a short burst.

“Malok, can you still hear me?”

“Barely Katia.”

“We’ve just been shot at by a probe, and it does not look like one of yours.”

“Alright, get to the place where I dropped you as fast as you can. Do you think you can do it in two or three minutes?”

“I’ll have to carry Mamadou, will my body stand the strain?”

“Oh certainly, this is really important Katia. Once I move, the Dinari are going to become aware of my presence and we will have to flee for our lives. We must get as far from Earth as we can or my drive will kill billions of your people.”

In just seconds, their mission had changed from one of intelligence gathering to fight and flight. There really was not much danger to Malok or his craft. The Djinari would not dare harm a member of his race, but they would not hesitate to harm humans in the least.

Katia quickly turned and hoisted Mamadou in her arms.

“Katia, what are you doing?” he shouted in alarm.

“Please sit still darling, we are fleeing for our lives. Today you get to ride in a real space ship.”

In spite of the strain, Katia managed to ascend the ridge at an astonishing rate of speed until a stone she stepped on slipped. Katia was down in an instant and was barely able to save Mamadou from the impact. Mamadou thought that she hit her head, and that knocked her completely unconscious. In actuality, another Dinari probe had shot at her and clipped her skull hard enough to jar her auxiliaries severely. Her own brain, being of soft tissue, absorbed the shock and would only have caused her momentary disorientation. Her auxiliaries had to reboot, using redundant circuits.

Mamadou recovered fast and picked her up and started to run down the hillside at an astonishing rate for an un-augmented human. At the beginning of a particularly steep section, the Imam paused to catch his breath. “Malok, if you can hear me, Katia has fallen and is not conscious. Please get here as fast as you can.”

He ran on, careening perilously down the hill to the bottom of the ravine. He was quickly running out of energy. He was a big man for an Afghani but even he was soon at the end of his strength. At the bottom, he had to stop to avoid running into the side of a vehicle that was not Malok’s. The door opened and one of the Djinarians stepped through, while pointing a dangerous looking weapon at them.

“Ah says the spider to the fly, come dine with me,” the frightening looking Djinarian said.

Katia had only just started to come round and she dazedly looked at the apparition in the door way. “No thanks asshole, we’ve already eaten.”

Her right arm did not seem to work very well so she swung her sword at him. Astonishingly, the augmented sword threw out a beam as she swung it and a gaping wound opened up from his neck to his hip. He looked at Katia in astonishment, and said, “Pity” before falling to the ground in front of the door.

Malok’s ship zipped past, the vessel’s tractor beam quickly scooping them up as it passed. “Oh my God Malok, that was far too close!”

“Katia, I worship the same God that you do and I am so hoping for his help right now, a lot of it! Mom is gonna be so pissed at me.”

“Geeze Malok, you act like we’ve just had a scrape with the neighbourhood bully!”

“We can talk about this later dear Katia. Right now I am really, really busy.”

As they departed the area, Katia felt the craft shake ominously a couple of times.

“What is wrong Malok?”

“Those criminals are shooting at us.” He sounded a little shaken.

“What are we gonna do?”

“Huh? Well I am going to shoot back! Gosh when Mom finds out I have a real weapon in my ship, she is so going to go off on me!”

A bright flash in back of the ship let her know that the Djinarian probably would not be shooting at them anymore.

She sat down and looked out the window, noticing that they were already closing on the moon at an astonishing rate of speed. As they passed around it, Katia noticed a really huge uncloaked space ship in hot pursuit.

“Malok, they are chasing us, what are we going to do?”

“If I can get us into my own ship, I have enough weapons to really hurt them badly.”

They zipped around to the back side of the moon so fast that Katia and Mamadou could hardly track it with their eyes. Thankfully the gravitational systems in Malok’s ship did not fail, or they all would have been as thick as a layer of paint.

They passed down a passage that no mapping satellite had recorded yet, and into Malok’s ship.

“Geeze Malok, I thought that the ship we’d been in was big, how big is the ship we’re in now?”

“Lady, I’d give you a tour but right now I’m pretty busy.” He said that using his best impersonation the adventure movie actor, John Fox.

“Mom, this is your son Malok. I am so sorry but I ran into some Djinarians and they are trying to bully me around, like they always do. Please let me explain before you ground me. Um … like I am so totally sorry but I had to break a few laws and I know that you are really gonna come down on me and I just want you to know that I know I have it coming. I love you, see you soon. “

On the surface of the moon his monitoring equipment detected a clear exit for his diplomatic distress buoy and he launched it. Since it was such a small mass, it could travel in the solar system at much greater acceleration than his ship and the tear in space would be spectacularly visible from Earth, but would do little real harm. Power would likely be out on the side of the Earth facing the moon, but that was only North America, Malok tried to rationalise. In a few hours linemen could have most of it restored.

All this of course violated so many laws and regulations that he was going to be in so much trouble, Malok quivered when he thought of it. Of course if he could prove interference on a Galactic scale by the Dinarians, then maybe his Mom would go a little easy on him? Gosh he sure hoped so. His flanges began to quiver as he thought about his impending doom when he got home. Maybe his mom would go easier in front of the company he was bringing home. Oh, yeah, he was not supposed to bring non-registered sentient races home with him. Ooh, man, what a mess!

Malok was doing all this agonizing with his primary brains, having set six of his auxiliaries on the task of plotting a non-destructive emergency evasive exit from this system. His sensors had detected an accusatory distress call from the Djenarian freighter, saying that a diplomatic vessel had inflicted grievous damage to them as they were making an unauthorized escape from an uninhabited system.

Malok was backed into the corner now. He knew that if he did not think fast, the Dinarians would destroy earth just to hide the evidence of their interference.

So, while his main propulsion system spooled up to maximum power, he eased his ship out of his hiding place in the moon. “Look here assholes, I have all the sentient life on Earth fully recorded and catalogued so don’t you harm a single one of them. I also have records of their present genetic configuration so don’t you creeps even think about doing anything to erase what you have been doing by like um dummying them down. I also have several specimens of their present configuration on board with me as I speak!”

With that, Malok began edging his ship in his most dignified but terrorized way of departure. In short, he was running for home as fast as his little ship would carry him and his guests.

At first, it looked like the Dinarians were going to let him go home without interference, and they had gotten nearly to Saturn’s orbit before they gave serious chase.

The Dinarians must not have realised at first that they were trying to intimidate one of the Royals, but as soon as they got close to Malok’s vessel, he disabled it with two shots to their primary flux condensers. The freighter would take several days to repair but of course their previously lodged distress call had already alerted both the Djinarian Navy, and the Greater Galactic Patrol. It was only a question of who would intercept them, the wolf or the lioness.

Malok knew that there was very little chance that he would set his ship down on the palace planet without the disgrace of drive restraints. He’d only been arrested once before, and his Mom was nice enough to let him off gently. Now he knew “his Knarlies were comfumled”. Gosh ! The very idea made his flanges begin to moisten. It was such embarrassment to drip in front of those who idolized him.

“Malok, did you just shoot that other ship? What were you thinking?”

“Don’t worry Katia, I had to or they would have really hurt me and probably killed you.” He dissembled, hoping to deflect any blame so that Katia would not truly understand the depth of his discomfiture.

“So you came blundering onto my planet making mud pies and throwing them at cars for your own amusement, and now you are afraid of being in trouble with mummy?”

“Katia, it’s not like that at all, tell her Mamadou?”

“Malok, don’t you try to get Mamadou on your side to mollify me, you twit!”

While Malok tried to convince Katia of his relative innocence, one of the critical transition points crept up on their ship, and suddenly, without warning, at about the orbit of Pluto, his ship began breaking every traffic regulation in the entire universe; producing a visible charge in the fabric of space/time that would be visible for thousands of Earth years, and for hundreds of standard galactic units in every direction. It would manifest itself as a perfectly straight line that would lead from Earth’s solar system right to the Thorian palace planet. That meant by the time they got home, every sentient race in the neighbourhood would be wanting to know why such a blatant violation was committed and every one would also know exactly who did it!

After it was plain that all hope was lost, Malok’s attempts at proving his innocence lost all momentum and he was left to quietly sob.

Katia, while she was really angry with him, still loved him very much and his emotional state moved her to sympathy. “Honey, it is going to be OK. I love you so much and I am ever so grateful for all that you have done for me. Thank you so much.” She leaned in to kiss his Avatar tenderly.

“Katia, I love you too, and do hope that Mother will allow us to be together, perhaps even on your planet. I hope that she understands that I did not intend to interfere in the affairs of Earth, but I am afraid of what her punishment will be since I have humiliated her and the whole of my people before the rest of the known universe.”

“Don’t worry baby, it will be OK and no matter what happens, I will be on your side.”

“Um Malok?”

“Yes Katia.”

“Do you remember the promise that you made to me?”

“What promise dear, I certainly never forget my promises.”

“Do you remember that you promised that I could see your real body when this was over?”

“But Katia, now is not a really good time.”

“Malok, you promised and none of us know what is going to happen when we get home.”

Malok really tried to avoid the issue but in the end, he finally gave in to Katia’s wishes.

Katia waited in anticipation as Malok’s avatar stands and walked over to a door in the back wall of the bridge of his cruiser. The Avatar pressed a concealed button and it slid back. Reclining in a very comfortable looking chair was a being who is twice as large as a human, very hairy, and as Katia would later find out, 11’ 6” tall.

Katia stands there breathless for a moment and then begins to slowly approach the reclining figure. Off to her side, the Avatar has sat down in a similar recliner and appeared to have gone to sleep.

Katia, now quite close to the seemingly sleeping Thorian, slowly reached out to touch his face. As her finger tips softly stroked the fine fur on the Alien’s face, his eyes slowly opened. They were huge, the size of goose eggs and the prettiest blue that she had ever seen.

“Malok, is that you?” Katia held her breath.

“Oh my God, they are Sasquatches!” she thought to herself. Then, everything went black.

“Katia, Katia wake up sweetie! Katia?” The sound of Mamadou’s desperate voice filtered I through the fog. Katia just laid there with her eyes closed even after she was fully awake. “God, how could this be? How could this giant Snowman be Malok, the man she loved so much?”

Her heart ached. She began to cry softly. “He tried to warn you stupid, but would you listen? No, you couldn’t be bothered with it could you?”

A soft voice in her mind spoke. “Katia, I tried to warn you that we were very different. I am so sorry to have shocked you so much. I should have revealed myself a long time ago, but I had already fallen in love with you and I was afraid … afraid of exactly this. I’m so sorry.” Katia didn’t even try to acknowledge what Malok had said. Presently, she slept.

Later, she slowly wakened again. It was quiet, and someone had moved her to a soft bed that was far too large for her. She was still dressed, and felt greatly refreshed. Then she remembered. Her heart really ached. The man she loved was a giant hairy, um GIANT! She just did not know how to handle that. She slept again.

Katia realised that she was dreaming. She was running as fast as she could but did not know if she was running from something or to something. She was not frightened, but decided that she must be hunting for something and that she felt incredibly distressed and heartbroken. Everything around her was black, but yet she could see a little ways, well enough to run. Her heart was breaking; she wanted something, no someone. Who was it? For some reason she could not form the words in her mind or speak them. Suddenly she tripped on something and fell flat on the ground, hitting her head really hard. She cried out, “Malok, help me! Malok, I can’t find you! Malok, where are you. I need you so badly, please Malok, come to me, I need you. Malok, please, please, please I need you so much!”

She screamed in pain, screamed as loud as she could, screamed so loud that it woke her up!

Katia was suddenly awake and sitting up. She thought that she could hear the dying echoes of her own screams. Where is Malok! “Malok, I need you, where are you?” Then she remembered. Did it matter? Did it matter that he was a Sasquatch?

Suddenly, Katia decided that it did not matter to her, NOT AT ALL! She must have him. She could not live without the emotional attachment to him.

She was suddenly on her feet, and running through unfamiliar corridors. Was she still on the ship? She must be. “Malok, where are you? Malok, I need you!”

Finally Katia found the bridge where they had all been gathered. The door where Malok sat was closed. She ran to it quickly and tried to open it but it would not budge, then she remembered his reaching for a secret button. Katia searched for it and found it.

The door slid open, revealing a sleeping Malok and his sleeping Avatar. She tried to waken him, shaking him as hard as she could.

“Malok, please wake up I need to talk to you.”

“He is sleeping my dear”.

Katia turned and saw an aged woman in a white Shalwar Kameez standing there. She had the look of a Nurse, but also much more.

“OOH, you surprised me, I did not hear you walk up,”

Katia gasped, rapidly regaining her composure. “Why can’t I waken him. I love him and we have a lot to talk about.”

“Katia dear, we are talking in the dream state. We thought it best to talk to you this way so your body functions could be kept within limits so you did not harm yourself. With your partial Thorian flesh, you are quite capable of harming yourself and others.”

“Oh, but ma’am, I would never hurt him or anyone else. It is not in me.”

“Katia, from the records in the probe that my son so wisely sent ahead, you killed hundreds of what you viewed as the enemy in the conflict you are involved in.” Katia did not want to hear that part, but looking at the woman, she could see kindness and wisdom.

Katia gasped and sat down on the floor, the truth of it coming home. “But Ma’am, I did it to defend others and I could never hurt others … wait did you say he is your son?”

Katia sat stunned for a moment as the truth began to sink in. Mercifully, the woman in white remained silent, a kind smile creeping onto her face.

Katia scrambled to her feet, and then fell to her knees. “Oh my gosh, your um Majesty, I am sorry. I don’t know what to do! Please I mean no disrespect …”

The woman laughed gently, “Katia dear, please be at ease, you are doing fine. I admire your kind heart and gentle disposition. It must have been so hard for you to be a warrior.”

Katia began to weep in the presence of the woman, grateful for her understanding. She felt the woman pull her to her feet, and gather her into her arms as Katia wept softly. Presently, calmness covered her like a warm blanket, making her feel secure and loved while the woman stood patiently and held her softly.

Katia said to her companion, “thank you Ma’am, you are so kind. What should I call you, I mean how should I respectfully address you?”

“Katia dear, my name is not pronounceable to you, but you may call me Mayall if that pleases you.”

“Thank you so much Queen Mayall.” Katia stepped back away from the queen wiping her eyes on a soggy sleeve. “OMG! I do not know how to conduct myself … wait you are Malok’s Mom! OMG, I am so happy to meet you.” Katia was jumping up and down, squealing with joy!

“Calm down child, we have much to talk about.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katia was now awake and standing at a balcony looking out at what she could only describe as a Garden Planet, from what she had seen. Queen Mayall, and she had talked for what seemed like hours, but later she found out that it only seemed that way in her dream state. In actuality, it was only minutes.

She found out that a great deal of Thorian business was carried out in this “Dream State” as a lot of things that would seem like a crisis in the waking state were slowed down so they could be dealt with more intelligently.

First, young Malok was in a lot of trouble from Mom for interfering on Earth, but his uncovering the interference of the Djinarians was a great surprise to everyone, so Mom pretty much forgave him for that. Several of her aides were out gathering favorable opinions so she could credibly avoid punishing her son regarding the interference with primitive cultures’ laws.

Unknown to Katia, this conversation had been going on as Malok’s ship approached Kronos, and he was not told of it. Even with the advanced state of his ship, it really was not much more than what people of Earth would call an old Jalopy. A Military vessel could have made the same trip in 1/10th the time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time they reached the palace planet of Kronos, Malok was considerably subdued. One can only remain hysterical for so long until they run out of energy to address the fear. Mom was gonna kill him, or worse.

Katia had been pretty pissed off at him but since she loved him, she had decided that she would stand by him what ever happened. She’d wakened knowing that she’d dreamed, but could not remember much except she’d dreamt about his Mom.

“You dreamt about my Mom? Oh brother am I in trouble!” He suspected what Mom had done but did not know the details. What with the records in the probe he’d sent ahead, and having talked to Katia, as he suspected, he felt that he was pretty much toast.

Mamadou was so fascinated with what was going on and by the fact that Malok’s people called their God Allah SWT, that he was in intellectual Jannah (Arabic for Heaven). He’d spent most of his waking hours poring over the history of known civilisation. According to his reading, Earth was not even listed as an inhabited planet, having been overlooked as other more interesting areas of what Earth folk call Milky Way Galaxy were found closer to the Galactic core.

His ship drifted to the veranda of the palace where his Mom lived, but now it was encased in a restraining field. As he had feared, he could not out run or evade the police, though he did elude the ever more disgraceful fate of being captured by the Djinarians.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katia had finally come to terms that one of the men she loved was nearly three times her height and fuzzy too. In spite of his appearance, she knew that she loved him, and had a sort of peace about it all. If his Mom was anything like Malok said she was, everything was going to work out.

That left Mamadou and her to work on their relationship. Katia was feeling really loving and solicitous toward both Mamadou and Malok. A matter that Mamadou was more accepting of than Katia would have suspected, but in his studies of the voluminous information contained in the Thorian data banks on the matter of Gods and of Allah SWT, he seemed to have come to a peace about it all that combined the science of the best minds and the spirituality that he’d been so accustomed to.

As he related it to Katia, according to Thorian belief, God was an intelligence that inhabited the entire Universe and had no need of a physical body, though could make one if needed. The Thorians felt that they were the obedient of God along with several other peoples in other parts of the Galaxies. They seemed to think that the Djinari were the origin of all chaos. It would be really interesting to see what the future would hold for Mamadou, Islam and the other belief systems on Earth. Even Atheists would be accommodated according to him, if they could maintain that belief, if they did nothing harmful to other life.

“Katia, are you there?”

“Malok, are you there? OMG, I have been so worried about you!” Suddenly, she could remember talking to the Queen and she felt that whatever she did would be fair and loving to Malok.

“Malok, can you come to me? I need you so much!!!!”

“Yes, I can. Should I send my Avatar?”

“NO, you boob! I want to see you, and hold you and kiss you and have you hold me. I need you!” Tears of joy streamed down her face.

“I will be there in just a little bit.”

Katia had just turned to run out into the room, and gotten a couple steps when she ran right into him. He swept her off her feet into his arms. They kissed each other until it was time to breathe or pass out.

“I missed you so much!”

To be completed in Chapter 4.

Lt Katia in Afghanistan Ch 4

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

17,500 < Novella < 40,000 words

Genre:

Romance

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Lt Katia in Afghanistan

By Gwen Brown

Well, my apologies for the delay in this last episode. The Schwartz was just not with me. So, I will provide a brief synopsis of the first three chapters to spare you reading it all again. I solemnly promise not to publish any more stories unless they are complete at publishing time. Here is a brief recap of the entire story.

Ch1:

Remember, Lt Frank Grace, an English Army Officer fighting in Afghanistan in 2020 is accidentally blown to bits by the automatic protection system on the ship of an adolescent young alien who is out sneaking around our galaxy with his mother completely unaware of his activities. The boy manages to put Frank back together again, but finding some gender conflict in his brain, Malok, in his youthful exuberance, thinks it will be a great idea to fix that, and puts him back together as a 102 lb with astonishingly feminine female dimensions, by Earth standards, because there wasn’t enough left to make her um big. He spent a few seconds, exhaustively studying Earth people and society, so he felt himself to be somewhat expert. He also gives her (now Katia) fearsome fighting ability and frightening weapons systems, you know, like any young teen would do, right, and she goes off to wreak havoc on the enemy. She eventually suffers such combat fatigue that the young alien to takes her home to her Mummy in the UK for a couple of fortnights of vacation. The British Military has no idea where she has gone and places her on the AWOL list. Malok has no idea what PTSD really is in humans or its causation, so in the typical male fashion, he sort of just stumbles through it all.

Ch2:

Katia gets a nice rest with her Mum and Father as they try to adapt to the new presentation of their only offspring, but is forced to try to keep her father out of trouble whilst he plays with her tiny gun. Much rested, she returns to Afghanistan amidst Malok’s (The young teenager from other worlds) suspicion that the war in Afghanistan is caused by otherworldly influence. Along the way, Katia finds out that Malok is the equivalent of an earth 14 year old boy, and potentially in the most fearsome trouble from his mom for making such a mess on a planet with barely sentient life on it (Earth). Katia is quite distressed to find that she is a product of an immature mind.

Ch3:

Returning to Afghanistan, Katia and Malok (the young alien) go about sleuthing the situation out, and quickly discover the outside interference comes from the stupid but large insect like Djinarians, who are seen as the pirates of the known Universe. Amid the ensuing melee, Malok, with Katia, flee for their lives, home to Malok’s parents, chased by the stupid aliens, the Djinn. (The Jinn is actually the Arabic word for what Westerners would call bad angels or daemons.) I’m just having fun with this.

Ch. 4 The Conclusion

In the next months, after getting run off of Earth, Katia’s life actually became routine at times. She rises early and collapses into bed late, because they were all very busy with discussing and making plans about what to do with the Djinarians invasion of Earth. The problem with the Djinn is that their kingdom is huge and while they are not extremely advanced, they are fearsome warriors, often fighting to the death in battle. They have really fragile egos and take insult at the most insignificant slight. Yes, real knuckle draggers. They resemble scorpions, but are quadrupedal, have arms with digits and with their acid blood, and toughness, they can afford to be quite quarrelsome.

One could not work all the time and taking short breaks to various sights in the vicinity of the Palace, Malok showed Katia and Mamadou the woods of Hag Horn not far from the palace; giant trees that had the branch structure of deciduous trees but huge lacy needles like conifers. The scene was vastly different from the white sands of The Ruus, or the towering peaks of Jord, that he’d taken them to on similar short breaks. Well-worn paths wound through the trees, crossing clear mountain streams and circling through lush mountain meadows with gorgeous flowers and innocently wary wild life. The trees, in excess of 500 feet tall, made their own weather, and most did not know what went on in the upper branches. The Thorians had never been particularly interested.

Thorian civilizations were generally very low impact environmentally. Their buildings touched the ground in perhaps 8 or 10 places, got their water from the air, recycled their waste, and were self-contained as far as power. There were few roads and no freeways because their anti-gravity vehicles were powered internally and left no emissions. There was no mining or drilling because they got their minerals from asteroid bodies, and what little oil they needed could easily be processed from plants that were normally housed in orbital green houses.

The trio sat down to rest and talk in a slight clearing where there were some downed branches.

“Oh, Malok, what are we going to do? It has been months since the Djinn invaded Earth in numbers and I am afraid they are wreaking havoc there.”

“Katia, I am sure we will find something, a weakness or a new weapon to fight them with.

Katia was shocked to find foot tall flying mammals inhabiting the forest that looked amazingly human, even wearing rough clothing. They seemed fascinated by her and Mamadou and the tiny mammals observed them from veiled perches in the branches of the trees. As they sat on a moss covered log, in a patch of warming sunlight, one of the little creatures flew in close to Katia and hovered.

“Be careful Katia, they are not friendly” Malok said dourly.

Still, Katia reached out to touch it and the little thing sort of screeched at her, then slashed her finger with a tiny sword.

“Ouch, you little twerp!” Katia quickly jumped to her feet, and pulled her own sword, but did not power it up. She took swatted at the diminutive creature to warn it off but did not try to hit it. At once, several dozen of them surrounded Katia. Sensing something different, and not wanting a fight, Katia simply put her sword away and stood with her hands at her sides. An impasse followed.

“Malok, can they speak?”

“There have been rare cases, but mostly they are just pests. Perhaps if you just stand there, they will calm down and leave. I hate to incinerate them.”

Inaudible to the rest, one of the faeries said to another, “Humph, incinerate, who they think they are?”

“Just calm down, we were not at war with them, its companion said, and we do not want to harm them, so let us see if they are smart?” The young one yielded to the elder Faery and all relaxed.

Katia said, “We have something in our fantasy stories on earth called fairies that look just like them.”

“These are not the fairies of your earth fables.” Malok replied grumpily.

One of the little creatures said to another, “Faeries, what are they talking about?”

“They apparently don’t think that we are real.”

“Wait a minute, in the family memory, there is recollection of a colony we had on a far distant planet. We called it Terra then. There seemed to be something wrong with the inhabitants and we gave up on them and left. I wonder if these are any relation of them?”

Katia could see that if she did not do the right thing with these little creatures, she might have to kill hundreds of them.

“OK, look, I did not intend to harm any of you. I am from Earth and have never seen anyone like you. Could we be friends?”

Katia gradually started feeling a buzzing in her head and in a minute she felt much calmer, and the fairies appeared to soften. She’d later find out that the faeries communicated with mental telepathy, and had a collective memory they called the family memory. The faeries could remember incidents thousands of years in the past.

One of them darted in, landed on her shoulder and sat down. She could not say that they were reading her mind, but they did seem to understand that her intentions were harmless.

The one sitting on her shoulder started talking in a tiny, high pitched voice. She could not understand him at first but her translation implant gradually began making some sense.

“Poor creature, you so big, you cannot fly; so sad, too bad.” It said.

“What is your name?” Katia asked.

“What I call myself?”

“Yes I am Katia Grace, what is your name?”

After several minutes of the little creature saying its name and Katia vainly trying to pronounce it, they finally arrived at what sounded like earth names for the similar creatures in fairy tales on Earth. So it was that Katia began to call the one on her shoulder, Mouselayer.
Katia had lots of questions about who these little folk were and where they came from. They were friendly enough after their initial hostility and they explained that the hairy ones (Malok’s people) never paid them much attention. But they knew that when they saw her, the wingless one, who looked so much like them, they had to know more. After Katia and Mouselayer had talked for a while, one of the young ones, about 2” tall, suddenly flitted in and sat right beside Mouselayer. The little one chittered loudly for a moment until Mouselayer picked it up and began to breast feed the youngster. This was surprising to Katia, and provided welcome feelings that were nothing like she’d ever experienced. She felt so different than she did when she was in the mountains of Afghanistan fighting the Taliban and the Djinn. Though she did not realise it yet, in time the idea of motherhood would greatly appeal to her.

“So, Mouselayer, you are this little one’s Mother?

“What you mean Mother?”

“Well, we humans say that the one who bears the child and gives birth is the Mother, and the one who gets her pregnant is the Father.”

A brief consultation between Mouselayer and the other Faeries followed and at the conclusion, Mouselayer replied, “Oh, we do not do things that way. The one, who wants the child, bears the child. As you would say it, we ‘take turns’.

Katia giggled and thought to herself, “I wonder how that physiology works out?”

Mamadou sat with Malok, a short distance away watching Katia interact with the little creatures. Mamadou watched knowingly while she fawned over the tiny one. She was such a picture as she sat there crooning and laying her hands over her breasts. There seemed to be almost continuous chatter between them for quite a while.

“Ah maybe motherhood will tame little Katia?” Mamadou said jokingly.

“I would not have believed her capable of such feelings after seeing her tearing the live beating hearts out of those who attacked her.” Malok said.

“Yes, how can a woman be so gentle, yet so lethal?”

“You have never been married have you Malok?” Mamadou’s smile could not be hidden.

Katia turned and looked at Malok and Mamadou. Her face had unquestionable happiness painted on it. The men were chuckling as they watched.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me, you stupid men!” she huffed indignantly.

“Careful little one or you will force me to wield the rod of Allah’s SWT correction on your back side.” Mamadou chortled cheerfully.

“Better bring an army big boy.” She was smiling as she said it.

Over the next hour or so, Katia found that they could talk and that since her appearance seemed to be similar to theirs, they were much more relaxed. The conversation went on for quite some time as astonished Malok and Mamadou looked on in amazement. It seemed that in just one afternoon, Katia had accomplished what Malok’s people had not in thousands of years.

It was late in the afternoon when the boys and Katia left the gathering with Mouselayer and his people. They’d talked about many things, and had agreed to meet at the same place the next day. It gave Katia something to do, something else to focus her mind on because they were not finding a solution to a way to deal with the Djinn. They had not yet appreciated the precipitousness of this simple encounter in the woods.

In the gathering dusk the Faeries flitted into the higher branches where their homes were. Overhead, the stars spun on their path through the heavens. Tonight was very different from any other night in the local Universe, though few of the inhabitants knew it.

In the next several days, it transpired that the little people considered themselves to be fearsome warriors, a fact that Katia and the boys at first found ridiculous, but would eventually come to appreciate. Something Katia had observed in their demonstration exercises was that they were so fast that they seemed to wink out of existence at times. Later, she would find out that they were teleporting themselves with extreme utility as easily as humans would scratch an ear and were capable of astonishing distances if pressed; if Katia had only known...

As yet they were unaware of the faeries close connection with what humans would call God. Of course, the God of the humans did not exist, no, the one that did exist was much more awesome than anything a puny human mind could invent. This God took things in stride much more than the invention of the human mind, though when he/she/it did act, there was still a spectacularity to it that boggled one’s mind.

Weeks later, Katia and the boys were busily packing supplies and weapons for a scouting mission to Earth. Mouselayer and several dozen of his people had been working with them right along and had insisted on accompanying them to on the journey, though Katia could not understand how they could possibly be of help. Still they were wonderful companions and often had answers for problems that were much better than anyone could have anticipated.

During that time, Malok’s mum, the Queen came to Katia with disturbing news.

“Child, I have some unsettling news for you.”

“Yes, your grace, what is it?”

“There is a faction that wants Malok to be severely punished, you returned to your old state and returned to Earth. They would like us to abandon your people”.

Shocked almost beyond belief, Katia asked, “Your grace, how much time do we have before they act”?

“It will take them time to gather their allies but I would like to have you, Malok and those who you will take with you off planet in a few days. I will try to put them off track by telling them that I am going to send you back to your planet in one of your months’ time. Hopefully, we will take them by surprise.”

“Thank you for the warning, your grace. We will act as soon as we can.”

“Katia, I have a small gift for you to wish you good providence,” She said. The queen handed her a simple bracelet that moulded its self to her wrist.
“It is of very specially made and you will not want to remove it, nor will it become uncomfortable. This war will end, and it will give you guidance throughout your life.”

“I’m hoping that It will make her more able to find her way in life. It will help her finally adapt to the ways of the women around her.” The queen thought. She had not told Katia that the bracelet also opened up a communication path to her implants, and changes were afoot for her.

Malok knew the real purpose of the bracelet. He and his mother had talked about it at length. The earth girl was in love with him and he knew that nothing could ever come of it. In his youthful exuberance, he had saved her life, where an adult would have had the sense to let her die. In the process, she fell in love with her healer; the most natural thing that could happen, but on earth the infatuation was usually broken in time.*

“I will also send a small contingent of military people who are loyal to me with you to help. I believe the Djinarians to be a huge threat to the peace of this local part of the galaxy, so I need you to make proof available of their intentions if you can.”

**When the Queen returned to her rooms, her advisor and Mouselayer were waiting for her.
Mouselayer said to the queen, “Your precocious son has forced our hand now. We knew the Djinn were raiding Earth for small amounts of minerals and when he exposed them, it triggered a full scale invasion and now we will be forced to deal with them with terminal finality.”

“So, it has come to that, has it?” the Queen said.

“Yes, and in a way, this act of youthful exuberance and foolish enthusiasm has saved us a great deal of sacrifice, and many lives. Because of our increased travels through the space between our home world and Earth, we have happened upon a troubling concentration of Djinn massing about 25 spectrons from here. It has taken us a considerable amount of time to understand all this, but we strongly suspect that the Djinn are planning a massive attack on Thorian space.” The Advisor, Kalok said.

“So, we really cannot get too incensed at my son because his disruptive romping in the outlands has uncovered a deeper plot.”

“The matter still remains that he has altered a sentient being in an unacceptable manner and she cannot be expected to live that way in the future, so I have placed a neutralisation bracelet on her so that over a period of time, her mind and eventually her body will slowly change to more closely conform to human norms. It will not directly change her but it will send us periodic reports on a side channel, and we can send commands back to her body to slowly make the changes. She will accompany Malok and a small task force of our Navy on their return to Earth.”

“The guardians will return with her and Malok. We had hoped that in time the Djinn would become part of the galactic communities but it seems there is little hope for that. We may be forced to regress them a million or so years, so that by the time they regain space travel again, they will have mended their ways.” Mouselayer said.

“Mouselayer, as guardians of the galactic community, I thank you for your assistance, and I humbly apologise that your intervention is required.” The Queen said.

“My Queen, you do us a great service by your willingness to cooperate. I must say that encountering Katia in the woods the way we did, and seeing her peaceful reaction to us, provides us with great hope for the future of sentient life in her part of the Galaxy. I wish it were so throughout the Universe. I’m going to ask that you not restrain her abilities as much as you are thinking. Yes, she has the ability to be quite lethal but has such loving and submissive character that she may well develop into an admirable representative from Earth.”

“Well, we best get them sent on their way. I will leave Katia’s fate in your hands Mouselayer. In the meantime, we need to marshal our forces to repel an attack from the Djinn should it become necessary”.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The “small contingent” was 9 vessels, including two of their largest vessels. Of the two large ones, one appeared as a passenger vessel, and the other looked like a lethal fighting ship. In all, there were 11,691 occupants in the task force. The queen’s soldiers had been quietly converting both of the ships to have the most advanced and lethal weaponry on board including some particle cannon that only a even few new of.

The rest of the vessels were obviously military and smaller but still quite fast and dangerous. The small fleet could approach Earth’s solar system to just outside the Oort cloud without much risk of Djinarian snooping. There has been an observing post on a moon of Saturn since just after Katia left, so using tight beam communication they could communicate with it. It was also decided that once the battle was joined, the fleet would move to the vicinity of Mars orbit and would only be minutes from earth that way.

The Thorian lead element, scouting Probes were at first detected and destroyed by the Djinn as the Thorians were doing recognisance prior to the invasion, but by making a polar approach to Earth and then completing the journey to the sites they wanted to monitor under water, they’d been successful. These were tiny craft, smaller than a human arm.

Probes returning from Earth revealed that it had become a prison planet. The Djinn knew that their time on Earth unchallenged was limited so rather than continue in their stealthy ways, they simply landed huge ore carriers in Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia, Chile, Canada, and the US. They openly began ruthlessly mining the minerals they wanted without regard for human objections. B-52s were swatted down like annoying gnats. Even Atomic weapons were ineffective. There were only a half dozen Neutron Bombs in existence and even those could only damage the Djinn slightly. The Djinn made no effort to occupy any city. They simply elbowed aside, lethally if necessary, anyone who opposed them and went about their robbery. The Djinn did not bother imprisoning anyone. Humans either stayed out of the way or they were killed.

None of this had been concealed from Katia and she was alternately feeling rage and crying. “What are we going to do about this? If the Djinarians are allowed to continue, they will drive humanity back to the stone age,” she said to both Malok and Mamadou with great feeling. Her voice quivered as she spoke.

Mouselayer seemed concerned by Katia’s nearly hysterical emoting.

In his squeaky voice he said, “Don’t you worry princess Katia, we will help you rid your planet of the troublesome Djinn. We should have done away with them a long time ago”.
Katia, thinking to humour them; quite sure that they were barking mad, and very certain that the Faeries could not “take care” of the Djinn alone, simply thanked them in the most gracious way possible. Lillytumpet, Twighatcher, and Philbertie seemed to lead their group with Mouselayer as the supreme commander.

Later, Katia quietly explained the exchange to Malok and Mamadou. “They seemed so confident Malok, how can that be”?

“I don’t know Katia, I barely knew of their existence until you met them. They seemed to take an immediate liking to you, though.”

They looked at each other and shook their heads.

None of them knew that the Faeries were telepathically linked and were spread on hundreds of planets in small secluded groups. There was no way that the humans could suspect the true capabilities of the Faeries or their link to the creator of the Universe.

Katia:
We had decided to build a whale like artificial creatures to carry us from beneath the Antarctic ice to the UK, where the Djinn were busily stealing petroleum from the North Sea. Malok and Mamadou both knew that would give me a chance to check on Mum and Daddy. I protested that it was too much to give me as a single participant in the war, but the two men had decided and I could quickly see that any objection I might have was futile. Three other “Whales” were dispatched to the South Pacific, the Indian Ocean and the South Atlantic.

I was so amazed at Malok’s piloting, because he was able to keep us fully cloaked until just before we hit the ice. The control station on the whale looked vaguely reminiscent of the keyboard of a large pipe organ, but with several displays. He looked like a master organist as he piloted us stealthily in past the Moon and down to the surface of the Earth on the polar axis. We’d thought that it would take us about a month to get to the UK, by imitating the Blue Whale’s 12 Knot cruising speed, and staying as deep as possible, and swimming in the canyons of the Mid Oceanic ridge to conceal our progress as far as possible. Much to our surprise, about a week into our journey, Malok told me that he’d been talking to other Whales for a few days and had found them to be sentient beings. The Whales were quite friendly and agreeable to helping them defeat the Djinn because they had started destructively mining minerals off the floor of the Pacific Ocean off the coast of North America. We all understood that the Djinn could do huge damage to the oceanic systems of the world.

Twice we had to come to a complete stop and lay on the bottom as suspicious Djinn ships investigated the area but eventually moved on to other things. On the 31st day, we slipped to the bottom in the bay near Swansea, Wales. Malok was going to try to keep in contact with us by using several tight beam laser like probes that would relay our signals as we made our land approach to Worcester. It would be non-radio, so rain and fog could interrupt it. Malok stayed in our “Whale”, and Mamadou and I secured a vacant pickup truck to take cross country to Mum’s house once we swam ashore near Gower. The streets were nearly vacant, and men were almost totally absent. We’d not had contact with my parents in over 6 months now, and had no idea how they were. Mamadou could tell that I was crazy with worry about them.

There was some difficulty in securing petrol for the little truck, an aging Mitsubishi, but once we talked with the wife of the owner of a repair shop, she gave us a full fuel tank and all the extra cans we could hold for the 350 mile trip.

“Please do all you can to run those creatures off? My Harry and most of the other men in Gower have gone mad and run off to do battle with them.

Surprisingly, we were able to slip over to Worchester without incident but we did see several over flights of Djinn. By now, Mamadou had a little pistol like mine and had consented to an implant to help him target the little, but lethal gun. He also now had a sword similar to mine, but its power was limited because he would not allow the implant of a power cell.

A dozen of the Fairies had come along, sometimes flying beside us and sometimes perching on the vehicle as we made our way. One of them swept in through the window and perched on the back of my seat along with Mouselayer who’d been riding all along. During their chattering, I was able to make out that the local mice were quite tasty, though there were some other little creatures that just curled up and slept this time of the year. At the time I wondered if they were the little things that a local woman, who is the wife of a prominent banker and a biologist herself, was so bent on protecting. I was about to question them further about what I later learned were Dormice when one of them said that they did not taste good.

“Yes, please leave them alone as they are an endangered species and we are trying to preserve them. The woman who is advocating for them will be quite cross if you bother them.

I told Mouselayer about the woman and he decided to put his companions off them in deference to her tender heartedness toward wood folk. “You know there are some creatures that look like these mice but are quite large; we call them rats; you can have all of those you wish, I should think.

Along the way, we got lost and a woman named Beverly got us back on track again. She said it was a pity that Google was off line.
“Oh, when you come back through, after this present nastiness, I’ll take you clubbing and we’ll have a grand time with the other girls.” She said.

When we got home, the house seemed deserted, until I got the key from under the plant outside and unlocking the door walked cautiously into the house. “Mummy, are you here?” I was quite worried and had lapsed into a child’s vocabulary in calling for her, though now as I think of it, as a young boy, I had never called Mum by that form of address. Hmmm. All the stress and tension musta been gettin’ to me.

I heard a shriek and Mum came pounding down the staircase as if the devil himself were after her. She threw herself into my arms in complete hysteria. “Frank, Frank, my darling, I never thought I would see you again”.

“Mum, it’s OK I am here now and we hope to put a stop to this bloody business with the Djinarians. We hope to kick them out”. Mum looked at me confused for a few seconds. I had chosen to ignore her calling me by my old name, Frank, as I knew that she was under a horrendous amount of stress. Her eyes seemed to roll like the wheels in a slot machine and then they steadied.

“Oh, good heavens Katia, I was so worried that I completely lost my mind there for a moment.”

“Never mind Mum, how are you and where is Daddy?”

“Oh, Katia my dear, he and some of the other blokes have run off with a tank to attack the Aliens. I am dreadfully sure that they are going to be killed doing it.” With that Mum began to sob and her legs slowly sagged.”

I picked Mum up and sat her in a chair. “Alright Mum, please try to remain calm and tell me everything you know about where they went.”

“Well, I do not know precisely where they went but they met with some other men that had somehow gotten military equipment from one of the depots and were heading north to Scotland, near Thurso, I think. They were going to try to get a boat and go up to the Shetlands, near a place called Sulom Voe”.

“How long have they been gone?”

“Oh, not quite a fortnight, I think.”

“Malok, those fools are in great danger if not already dead. One thing that might save them is that a Tank uses a frightful amount of fuel, so hopefully they’ve simply run it out before they got there. My God Malok, driving around in a great hulking tank will surely attract the attention of the enemy, won’t it?”

“Katia my habibti, we must keep our focus on the fact that the enemy mean to end the whole of humanity, so we cannot allow our search for your father to jeopardise our mission. We’ll find him if we can, however.”

One of the faeries said,“ Katia, we need to see a picture of your Father. We will locate him for you.” One of the faeries said to me. He seemed so absolutely positive that I just gave him what he wanted. Mamadou showed him on a map where her father likely was. A group of the Faeries moved out of sight so fast that it felt suspicious to me.

“Were they transporting themselves?” I asked myself. We did not see that two of the faeries stayed behind at my parent’s home.

It took us about a half hour to ascertain that Mum had enough food and felt safe before we headed off again toward Northern Scotland. It being about 350 miles distant, we knew that it might take more than a day to get there, depending upon conditions. I fervently hoped that the Djinn would not bother us. The roads were mostly deserted, but once in a while we’d pass huge columns of smoke or burned out vehicles.

Along the way, we ran into a local woman named Sue Brown, who seemed to know the roads up through Scotland quite well. She’d once driven through with several of her friends in an ancient bus.

Malok decided to move the Whale around the isles and go slowly up the coast to the vicinity of Thurso. He thought it would take a few days. It seemed maddening that we could not transport and use some of the other devices that the Thorians used, but all that could be detected. As it was, the risk to the whale was great, but Malok had talked with the other whales enough to have begun to understand their movement patterns somewhat. So, he programmed an evasive pattern into the navigation system that would eventually take him to where he needed to go.

The Western coast of the UK between the main Island and Ireland was quite rough and there were many places of concealment, though while proceeding up an inlet near Askaig, he’d had to slow considerably because his wake was visible on the surface.

Meanwhile, in a matter of hours, the Faeries were in the vicinity of where Katia’s father was thought to be and began searching. They were at first stumped but after a day’s searching, then found that he was captive and in poor health aboard one of the alien vessels that was floating not far from Sullom Voe.

What happened next is one of the most unbelievable incidents of the Djinarian invasion. The number of Faeries involved in the search had grown to a dozen, and they set about killing the enemy and disabling the vessel without damaging it enough to leak oil. Those little swords they carried, about the size of the ones in a drink, could cut through almost any substance known to man. Despite their diminutive size of the faeries, the enemy were an easy mark unless they were in their battle suits.

Meanwhile, Mamadou had driven me very close to the Thurso area. Malok had yet to contact us, but we suspected that we would hear from him soon. Later, just at dusk, Malok contacted us, having learned that there was a pitched battle going on up in the Shetlands, but he had no idea what was going on aside from it was causing lots of traffic on Djinn communication channels.

The faeries were keeping far better track of our progress than we had any reason to suspect, and just before we rendezvoused with Malok, two of them popped out of the clear air right by our lorry. It was such a shock to me that I screamed and jumped into the arms of Mamadou.

“Habibti, I like this new affection you are showing me, but in public?” I could hear the humour in his voice.

I could not figure out where my new squeamishness came from and was very confused until I thought of Malok or His Mother. “Malok what in the bloody hell have you done to me?” I said as venomously as I could.

“Katia, I swear it, I have done nothing to you at all.” With a little instrument, he began to check my body over and then his face went ashen.”

He explained to me that someone had slipped an almost microscopic probe into my body and it had attached its self to the base of my brain It was talking to my bracelet. “Oh, this looks like the work of Mother! From what I can tell from looking at its programming, Mom is helping you become more feminine, according to human standards. I don’t know how she did it, though it does look like there is an override for combat situations.” I had no idea at all that Malok was dissembling to avoid my wrath.

“Oh, God Malok, this cannot be done to me right in the middle of a war!” I cried with dismay.

“I very much like this woman, your mother. She will make it easier for you to be protected.” Mamadou said with an idiot smile on his face.

“What do you mean you big lummox, who saved your ass, how many times back in Afghanistan?” I was fuming mad.

“Um, Katia, I think that Mum was concerned that you liked ripping hearts out of living beings with your bare hands was a bit over the top, um perhaps.” Malok said nervously.

“Enough”, shouted one of the Faeries. “We must save your father and he is miles away in an enemy vessel.

“You found Daddy? Oh, thank you, thank you, and thank you.” I was doing my new found happy dance, and wondering why. “Oh, your Mum is going to pay for this.” I was fighting my new emotions, and knowing that I was losing.

Katia, Mamadou, and Malok quickly got into the Whale and started across the channel to the West side of the Shetland Islands. As they travelled under water, Malok pushed the speed of the Whale to just under 60 kts, hoping that the Djinn were too busy dealing with the distant battle to notice their approach. He piloted the craft into an inlet near Islesburgh and into what seemed to be a dead end inlet, when he lifted the whale clear of the water and shot across several 100 meters of dry land and into the Loch containing the terminal at Sullom Voe. The last several miles to the side of the Alien oil vessel was taken at 150 Knots, just clear of the surface.

By now there was a huge battle in the sky over the terminal with Alien ships plunging into the island and into the sea with regularity. The only ships firing seemed to be the Aliens’ ships and their shots seemed at random, most often aimed into the air.
There were a few of the Aliens on the deck of the mile long vessel, but they seemed to be swatting at clear air, and firing their hand weapons indiscriminately.

That is when it became abundantly clear that the Faeries were indeed formidable warriors, winking in and out of visibility rapidly, their tiny, swords slashing precisely but not giving lethal wounds.

Mouselayer said to Katia as he swooped in from what seemed like nowhere, “Princess Katia, go below and rescue your father, Nicknuk will show you to him. We have most of the Djinarian crew inoculated, so we must take your father out of here before they try to lift their ship. Then, we will attack in Europe, Asia, and everywhere we can before they all flee before us, the cowards. We will inoculate them all.”

“Inoculate, what are they talking about?” I thought.
The Faeries had not told us that while their little swords produced painful but not lethal wounds, they also implanted a virus that would eventually spread to the entire population of Djinn and it would have the effect of retrogressing them nearly to the stage of primitive hill ants. It was surprising to find out that their goal had never been to directly kill the Djinn

The unbridled condescension of his statement astonished me, but I was sure he believed what he was saying, so I followed his diminutive guide down into the bowels of the ship. The passage ways were larger than humans use.

“Katia, how fast can you run?”

“Just tell me where to turn.” She shot off down the passage and had gone about ¼ mile when, Nicknuk told her to turn down another passage. A short run and down some stairs and then into a room, where her Father lay on a table.

“Daddy, you look awful. What have they been doing to you?”

“Oh, they have been doing all sorts of dreadful things, but the worst was their shocking me, the bloody fools.”

“Can you walk at all?”

“ Oh, I can walk but I’ll be slow.”

Beneath her feet Katia could feel a low vibration, so swiftly she turned to her Father. “Remember the piggy back rides you gave me as a child?”

He nodded, and then eased himself off the table onto her back.

“Malok, we are coming but it feels like the ship is getting ready to lift. I’m not planning on going with them so, be ready to catch us, OK?”

Katia was not sure that Malok would hear her but she hoped he would. The extra weight of her father slowed her a little but her ample power packs could stand the strain. As she ran, the increasing rumble became a roar, and by the time they arrived on the deck, the ship was lifting out of the water, making it several hundred feet to the floating dock alongside.

“Malok, where are you?” She did not get an answer.

“Daddy, I love you. Hang on.” She stepped off the deck and began falling down the side of the ship. The rounded pressure hull came close to them as they fell. Convinced she and her father were going to die in this plunge, Katia began to get angry, and she thought about her time in Afghanistan fighting and how much she cared for her family. She could see the whale lifting to meet her but it would be too late, and that made her pissed. “How could this be happening? “ She thought. With the Water just seconds away, she felt outrage take over. Her body began to get fuzzy, and lightning began to fly all around her. Just before they hit the water, their fall began to slow and completely stop. Seemingly transfigured, Katia and her father began to rise and travel toward the dock, finally settling there amid a white cloud.

Unnoticed by anyone but Malok, the Whale lost power and settled back into the water. It was obvious that Katia was somehow tapping into the power supply of the Whale. There was more than ample power from the Whale to lift her and her father, but apparently her instinctual way of drawing the power was too disruptive and inefficient.

As soon as Katia and her father settled to the dock, Katia let go of him and he collapsed. It took Katia a minute to come to her senses and when she turned to check on him, he was unconscious and ashen faced.

“Oh my God, Daddy, are you OK?” She was almost shrieking with hysteria and knelt at his side immediately. His clothes seemed to be steaming but not burning. She wiped at his face and discovered that the ashen colour was like a dusting he’d collected. Beneath, his complexion was a little red and his skin was warm. Nearly in tears, she leaned close to him.

“Daddy, daddy, please wake up, I’ve gone through too much to lose you now damn you. Please, please wake up, you old fool! I promise not to be mad at you ever again.”

Nearly frenetic with worry, Katia began to weep so hard that she thought her heart would break. She wept and wept. “Daddy, please come back to me!” Completely distraught, Katia did not at first notice a hand on her back.

“Promise not to tell your Mum about all this, she will be bloody worried, she will.”

Katia screamed at the sound of his voice, and cried all the louder!

“Daddy, you’ve come back to me! Please never leave me again, promise?”

When Malok finally managed to restore power to the Whale and lift it to dockside, they found Katia and her father sitting and holding one another; quietly talking in the most endearing tones.

In the skies over Scotland, thousands of Faeries had gathered and more were arriving as time passed. It was a migration that no one on earth or any other planet for that matter had ever witnessed. That evening, as the sun set, under threatening skies, little encampment sprung up in the fields for miles around. Word spread quickly about the young human princess who had been the first to show them courtesy in a very long time. Mouselayer had Katia ensconced on a chair at his encampment with Mamadou and Malok on either side of her. There were little fires all around her and a seemingly endless procession of Faeries slowly flew past her. They were extremely courteous to her, almost apologetic.

Mouselayer, after chatting with the other gathered faeries through telepathy, explained to Katia.

“We still inhabit many planets but we used to call many more home to our kind. We once had a colony here on your earth, but you humans were such dullards that we eventually left. At one time, we despaired of ever finding really sentient life other than ours. Even the Djinarians were not a bother to us, because we’d just run them off if they bothered us. We just paid no attention to them, and left the Thorians alone too as long as they did not pester us. The Thorians weren’t aggressive but were quite intellectual, and managed to invent many gadgets that we had little use for. We talk among ourselves with our minds, though the more distant of our colonies requires us to eat an herb to get into the correct state of mind for that. When pressed we can travel in the “In between” for equally as far, though it is bothersome. So far, we have no natural enemies and nothing preauthorises us except what you call The Most High. We have this inborn spirit of cooperation with the Supreme Being. We serve him and he is good to us. I must say, that after being here on Earth for the first time in thousands of years, that most of your ways of worshiping are pure nonsense to us. We will instruct you on that matter, as what you are doing at present are entirely unsuitable.”

“It was our own fault that the Djinarians got so powerful, being absorbed in our own affairs for so long. We had no idea that they were the bullies of the local space and in time, they would have ended all life but their own. So, we apologise for neglecting our duty as the most superior beings, except for the Maker. Perhaps he was just waiting to see if their wickedness would diminish at some point. No one can say that they did not get ample opportunity to change.

“So, after talking with the other leaders, we intend to inoculate several of their populations with a DNA retrograde virus. That is what our little swords do. They will eventually lose their ability to engage in space travel at all, but not before they infect the rest of their lawless breed. Perhaps in a Million or so of your years, they will evolve again but this time not as such pirates. “

The inhabitants of Earth were regressed numbers of times before, but this last time we simply gave up and left, having lost hope. We expected your planet to be destroyed by the Maker.

Mouselayer paused for a time and then turned to look at Katia with respect, and even affection.

“My people have been calling you princess Katia because we think that your sacrifice and work deserves an honorific. So hence forth, you are Princess Katia to all sentient beings. We also know that had it not been for the peaceful Thorians, their queen and this young pup Malok, you would not have come into existence as you now are. Henceforth, you will have the ability to mind talk with us as we talk with each other. We know that you and Malok have a primitive mind talk but yours is electromagnetic and ours uses the next level of existence.”

“Malok, your mother and her fleet are on the way here now. You will take whatever correction she administers like the higher being that you think you are.”

“Yes sir, I will do as you wish.”

“You most assuredly will and you will be better for it.”

“Mamadou, you are a kind and generous man, and we thank you for trying to protect little Katia. She is quite powerful in the ways of war, but within she is but a soft child and needs much nurturing.”

“Thank you sir, you are to be praised along with the Prophets, Inshallah.”

“Yes, well we have been looking into your belief systems here on earth and they have all left the true path. We’ll be working on that with your leaders and I am sure that many of them will be unhappy, especially those who say they are the chosen of God. The central belief of any acceptable belief system is that they honour God, and love one another. Anything else is false and leads to great folly. Any belief that does not meet that standard is no more, as of today. Some humans need to tremble in fear for the pain they have spread. The love of God goes to the faithful, and this time we will be here to insure justice and compassion for all. Those who refuse to give up hate and malice will have a very painful future.”

The meeting lasted well into the early morning, and then Malok, Mamadou and Katia with her Father went to bed in the Whale. When they wakened in the morning, the Whale was sitting alongside Katia’s parent’s house.

“Wake up Daddy, Mummy will be so happy to see us again!”

“Katia, dear, please be patient while I tie my bloody shoes”

“But Daddy, I am so excited to see what the day will bring!”

“Well, I must say dear Katia that I did not expect to live through the day yesterday. Those God awful bloody scorpions seemed bent on taking my life, they did!”

They all went into the house to waken Mummy and have a joyous breakfast, full English, as much as posible. There were shortages but not as severe as some would have thought. The networks were still not on line again, and there was no internet, but Mouselayer had shown up as soon as they went into the house.
“Good morning Princess Katia, I want you to know that the Djinarians are on the run back to their home worlds. They did much damage and billions were murdered. We will remain with you for a time to see to it that this planet is firmly established on the true path.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Katia helped her Mum with the dishes after breakfast. Mamadou, Katia’s father, Malok and several of the Faeries sat in the back yard and talked of the future. Later, when the dishes were done, Katia found her way with a tray of tea and biscuits, to the back yard where the men were sitting.

Mamadou looked up at her and smiled. Katia quietly moved over and sat in front of him at his feet. She’d changed to a pretty pink and mauve striped dress with black leggings, and her trainers.

“When will your mum, the Queen arrive Malok.”

“She is just entering your solar system now.

“How are you feeling habibti?”

“I am feeling really peaceful, after yesterday.” “Mouselayer, I am so surprised that your people were able to do all that you have done. I had expected a very long war, and for many more of my people to die.”

“Princess, I am quite happy to have come along with you. You do realise that you were the catalyst that caused all this to happen, do you not?”

“Thank you, but I am not feeling very war like right now. I am sick of fighting and of wars. I am sick of people hurting one another. Actually, it was Malok’s shooting me that started it all. I would never have done any of the things that happened, had he not done that.

One of the men finished saying, “and that means that we on Earth are most appreciative of your help Mouselayer.”

“Well, there is much to do. We think the threat of the Djinn is finished but we will stand guard here until we know it to be true. In addition, there are some issues in your society that need correcting. It will be painful for some, but we know that it must happen. Corruption, slavery, aggression and selfishness are huge problems here. What you call religions are mere shadows of what they should be, and we intend to insist that we will correct that. We know who this entity that you call God is, and we intend that everyone on Earth will find belief in him. Some of your people will actually be brought to full awareness of him, see him eye to eye. But those who have believed without seeing will be the blessed ones.

Mouselayer went on, “There is nothing metaphysical or spiritual about this knowledge. It is a genetic and psychodynamic issue. There are pathways in the human brain for talking to all other sentient beings. The Djinn had over the years, interfered in your genetic development and left much of humanity unable to use those senses, and made you less intelligent and war like. Their purpose was to keep you so busy with conflict among yourself that you had no time to discover them, and it worked for all but a very few.

For far too long, the misguided religious institutions have been allowed to inflict pain and abuse those who were supposed to be cared for. This has stopped as of now. Today, many of my people will be arriving and by tomorrow, every institution will have watchers.

When we have been here for a few weeks, we will begin to address the reasons for the primitive genetic state of humans. We know that there are causative factors and when we isolate them, we will address them. ”

“We’ve gone through all this and now you are going to make Earth a bloody police state.” Katia’s father stated. It was clear that he was upset, probably due to his ordeal.

“George, I am asking that you allow us a few weeks to work, and if you are not satisfied then, we will do our utmost to make amends.”

“Very well, Mouselayer, you seem to be a good chap. How are you on Hair of the Dog?” Beer was brought from in the house and some of the men and women drank it while Katia and Mamadou did not. Still, it was a happy crowd and they celebrated most of the day. The discussion between Mouselayer and George went on for hours, and very quickly Katia and Mamadou stole away for a walk down to the a little stream.

“Mamadou, somehow over the last months I have come to regard you highly. I do not know what I would do should anything happen to you. I love you Mamadou.”

“My dear Katia, I feel the same way about you. You are like a precious flower to me. We have not had a normal life to come to know each other. I must return to my people in Afghanistan. Would you accompany me?”

“Yes, I would be honoured to do so but please do not ask me to wear that blue thing over my head.”

“My dear, all I ask is that you do not dishonour us by dressing immodestly, and that you are respectful to those around you. I would also ask that you restrain yourself in matters of violence. Please allow me to handle those things, won’t you?”

“Yes, Mamadou, but please do not restrict me to only making your sons and daughters.” She giggled.

“Why Katia dear, I am not familiar with your Western customs, though I was educated here and in Egypt. Are you telling me that you would like to marry me?”

Katia could feel her tummy go all butterfly-ee and her face felt warm. “Mamadou this is a marriage proposal?”

“Why, I think it is, dearest.”

“Then the answer is yes, my love.”

“Let’s get married like really soon?”

“First, you must say Shahadda, and agree to be obedient wife. I will agree to care for you and meet all your needs.”

“Mamadou, we have a problem here. I believe in God, but I am not wearing that unfashionable blue sack over my head, and if anyone goes to beat me, he’s going to regret it, I told you that before.”

“Katia, if you will not become Muslim wife, I am forbidden to marry you.”

“Mamadou, you’d allow your religion to interfere with us? Then we are going to scrap it here. If you remember I died in Afghanistan while fighting terrorists! Did you not hear what Mouselayer said about belief systems here on Earth. There will be much change, and I have faith that what happens will please God but we must be patient.”

And they did fight; bitterly and long into the night. Mouselayer stayed in the distance while they tried to work things out, but in the end, Mamadou stormed off into the night and Katia retired to her bedroom weeping.

Mamadou insisted on returning home to his Afghanistan, “My people will be dismayed. I need to be there with them!” He got Malok to give him a ride there in the Whale. After all the round trip was less than an hour in the air. The panels that made the craft appear as a Whale were folded in and the craft had little problem, averaging just under 9500 MPH. He flew at around 200,000 feet to avoid a sonic boom that reached the earth. They had time to talk, and Mouselayer was along with them.

“Mamadou, what will you do? I know that you and Katia are very close.” Mouselayer asked.

“I do not know Mouselayer. She is the light of my life, but if she will not convert, it is Haraam (forbidden) to marry her.”

“I have noticed your closeness. And you both have been through so much. Perhaps you should just rest and take care of your people for a few weeks. I foresee many changes coming and I am sure that your two hearts will yet be one. There will be a great many changes in your country and the world. There will be no more fighting, and I will deal with those who do not lay down their arms, believe me.” Mouselayer gently soothed him.

Malok remained quiet, acting as if flying his craft was keeping him too occupied. In reality, he knew that Earth’s complicated religious structures were gone like the dinosaur, though many would scream with outrage. It might take years and many would have spiritual crises over the news. Some day they would understand that God was real, but not as the religious dogmas had made him out to be.

It had been months since Katia and Mamadou had seen each other. Mouselayer intentionally kept them both very busy as the world around them changed. The faeries had deduced how the Djinn had tampered with human genetics and now all babies born would be without those defects. In some humans, the damage was too severe and they would need to be watched and guided to prevent them becoming offended, or causing trouble with their fellow humans.

Katia was a special case in that Malok had already done a great deal of modification on her, and it was really not much of a problem to enable her to listen in and talk on the telepathic network that Mouselayer used. She was constantly driving or flying aircraft in the discharge of her various duties dealing with everyone from the UN to the various governments, to the various corporations. So finally after talking to Malok’s mom, the Queen and the rest of the faeries, a team of the faeries gave Katia the same gift of transport that they used. The faeries did not want to alter her appearance, so they implanted the flesh necessary behind her smallest breast, thus making them both close to the same size. She’d never have the same faculties as the faeries, particularly very long space hops, because she did not know how to search for a safe place for her to emerge. Still, she would be able to handily flit about on Earth and the local solar system. Of course the latter would require her to use a pressure suit because she would never have the brain capacity that the faeries possessed. The Moon was only a minute or two away for her and the shield around her retained enough air for her to breathe normally. But, Jupiter would take longer than any air she could carry would last. Katia soon discovered that depending on the difference between her mass and any object she might collide with, her path or the other object was deflected. The faeries did not seem interested in explaining the physics involved, and Katia’s two constant companions kept the nosier at bay.

The faeries decided to work within the present governmental framework, but a good many members of the government were in for huge surprises. Graft and corruption were swiftly banished, and for a while it appeared as if many governments would just vanish. By now there were millions of faeries flitting about and they were punishing everything from pork barrelling to simple theft.

In most areas, the local police were retained, the scum bags were culled, and what remained were truly good people if somewhat control oriented. There were no more traffic courts, or litigation regarding accidents and various other offenses. Soon, even the most aggressive drivers simply felt the consequences of getting caught were not worth it.

A few times, Katia herself showed up to deal with the recalcitrant. Months after she’d arrived back on Earth, certain Somali elements were still being bullies. In one village, they were getting ready to stone a young woman who had fallen in love with a foreigner, and as she bore in from high altitude, she simply ignited the land around the offenders before she sat down and freed the half buried girl. By the time she left, several of the Muslim raiders were dead, having resisted. As she left, two more faeries arrived to re-educate the local residents.

She also abolished borders, drug cartels, and those who grew rich by controlling the poor.

(Hey, the author here. This may all seem too implausible and fanciful, but I likes it a bit. I’ll leave the serious funk and gore stuff to the more able. ïŠ)

On night after a full days work, Katia sat back in a lounge chair in the back yard of her parent’s home. Peace seemed to be breaking out all over the world. People were productive and most were content. Sure there were the X-control monger corporate, and government plonkers who weren’t, but there were also those who had been on the public dole who were now productive within their own limitations.

Daddy seemed overly preoccupied with an engineering material that was simply amazing. It was many times stronger than the best steel, extremely light and did not require foundries or environmentally destructive activities. They’d already made plans to put in a submerged trans-Atlantic freeway.

She just did not feel that she had much to do any more, so her heart turned once again to Mamadou. Hours later, she hoisted herself aloft, after showering and changing clothes and touched down in Ankara. It did not take her very long before she had visited several places in the local Sook. She emerged wearing a classic, form fitting Ivory abaya of golden silk and richly embroidered. It even had an Almira Hijab with it, and made her look like a heavenly angel.

As she slowly cruised East from Turkey, she asked Mouselayer if one of his assistants could help her locate her Mamadou. He’d of course already done that. The lovelorn man had gone to ground in Moqor, near where they had originally met. Along the way, Katia had stopped in a local market and gotten a big blue blanket to wrap around herself. This was her final effort to find a peaceful existence where she and Mamadou could once again love one another. What she was about to do was not Western thinking at all. She just knew that she loved him.

She approached his position in the court yard of a local house slow enough that he did not hear her. She was still several feet off the ground when she stopped.

“Salaam Mamadou.”

He seemed stunned for a moment. “I heard that you were coming. I just did not know when.”

“I have missed you Mamadou; missed your touches, your gentle eyes, and your protection.”

“You are in no need of my protection, why did you come?”

“Mamadou, please, I wanted to see if there was any love for me left in your heart?”

“I never stopped loving you, habibti. Have you come to disgrace me in front of my people?”

“No, my love, I have come to try to be your wife.”

Mamadou turned around, seeming to be shocked at her appearance. His heart surged at here appearance. She was entirely covered by the Blue blanket, but with her face showing.
“Mamadou, is there a compromise that will yet allow our love to live? I will try to not embarrass you in your community and will try to follow you in our personal lives.”

“Katia, would you please drop that Blanket, most of my beliefs are irrelevant now. Islam and all other religion is dead. We have lost all our value systems and traditions, and have yet to understand how we are to worship our creator.”

“Not so Mamadou. The unsupportable is gone, but mutual regard, modesty, care, and charity remain. The admiration for who it is that created the universe is still with us. We must do our utmost to help those around us, and Mamadou, I need to be at your side so you can steady me. I grow so impatient with some of those who I encounter, and I would like you to take over much of my work, I am not strong enough and get too emotional. Don’t you dare laugh at me? You and others have warned me that striving with the men is too hard for women, and now I see the truth in it.” Katia then dropped the blanket, exposing her beautiful gown and Hijab.

“What am I seeing Katia? Is this complete capitulation?”

“If that is what you wish darling. I know the work must be done but I feel like I cannot do it alone. If I yield completely, will you not get bored with me?” Katia allowed herself to sink to the earth near his feet, on top of the fallen blanket. “Will you disgrace me in the way you treat me?”

He quickly stepped to her side and raised her to her feet. “Katia, I am sure that we will find a way for our love to survive. I have talked a great deal with Mouselayer and he has convinced me that our very rituals and rules were a disgrace to the one who created us. I just do not know how everything will be now, and would love to have you in my life so that we can face this together.”

“Do you think we could go meet with Mouselayer and Mummy and Daddy to work things out? I will not say your shahadda, but I will pledge my love for the creator, and promise to be loving and faithful to you. Will that be sufficient?”

“Katia my darling that is more than I deserve.”

In 5 years, the Earth was much more stable, and in a few decades, humanity would begin to explore the solar system. In 100 years, the Thorians would begin to provide them with the education to earnestly explore the rest of their galaxy, where they would find thousands of habitable planets.

Katia and Mamadou Touri would live to see a great deal.

The Toy

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Romance

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

The Toy

Chapter 1

Gwen Brown

The storm to the South West was rapidly gathering but there looked to be time to reset the power pull on the pole and then I could go home. The sky had gone all amber, the humidity was oppressive. The distant thunder sounded like the neighbor dragging his garbage can down the street. The approaching tempest looked like it could hatch a Tornado. I began to wonder if I should bother getting the power back up again.

"Well, maybe it will miss us", I mused as I worked.

A tree outfit had been working near the line when one of the workers dropped a branch right across two phases of a three phase line. From the ground I could see that only one of the line fuses popped before the branch blew clear, so when I got the call, and got down there, I quickly spiked up and ran up the pole with the new cartridge. It only took a second and I almost just reset it by hand; way against the rules, but every lineman had done it before. It only took a couple minutes to grab my hot stick and reach up to reset it. FLASH!

Later, I'd find out that I was one of the last lineman fatalities in North-eastern Ohio.

It had been six years since the death of my wife and three children in a wreck on the freeway. Before that, I was the happiest man on earth; madly in love with my family; absolutely devoted. A Semi had shed the rear dolly on the trailer, and it had come over the wall into our lane. The huge heavy assembly had struck the passenger side and then wiped out the rest of the van. I was left sitting up against the retaining wall, still strapped in with the rest of the van completely flattened and the four dead bodies of my wife, two girls and son. The airbags left me with black eyes and dazed. I did not know anything until the firemen were attempting to get the van far enough from the wall to open the still functional door.

There was the time on the Psych Ward at the hospital. I refused to take any drugs once I began to come round a little. They said they were very concerned about me, but could not hold me once I told them I was leaving. After that, at first I was a real mess; travelled a lot, spent a lot of time sitting in parks near churches. That great big one in Salt Lake really comforted me. Something about that huge beautiful building set against the Wasatch Mountains, just felt so right. Last year, I went back to work. It was great that the power company let me come right back. Before, I’d been really careful. Now I just got the work done and did not care if I bit the big one. I wasn’t even scared any more.

The advent of small scale fusion power plants, solar and wind power was making the behemoth electrical generating plants a thing of the past. The hydrogen fusion plants were deemed impossible for a long time, but in 2025 a little known Russian scientist did it. One of the surviving Wikis made sure that the critical parts of his work were known worldwide in hours. With worldwide licenses, manufacturers were turning out small, silent power plants like they were merely home appliances. As one might expect, the oil barons and the old guard were squealing like stuck pigs.

There was talk of blowing up some of the big dams, except for those necessary for flood control. Some even talked of restoring historical runs of fish. With limitless power, there was talk of huge desalinization plants to stop the depletion of the aquifer. Conventional Nuclear plants were being decommissioned as fast as possible. The really dangerous parts were being broken up and buried deeply, though there was talk of launching them into the sun.

Global warming issues had become extremely pressing, pretty much starved out those who had previously controlled governments, because now people knew they were going to die unless we did decisive things and very soon. The fourth World War, flooding, earthquakes and pestilence had reduced the world population to just less than 2 billion. Of course no one really knew for sure.

Of course, the increase in sea levels worldwide had made the reduction of the use of carbon fuels a top priority. Not only was the sea rising because the ice was melting, but the decreased pressure of the ice on the Greenland Continent, North America, other places that had carried a heavy ice load for thousands of years had spawned a huge increase in Earthquakes. I’d thought about what my ancient Dodge 4x4 pickup would be like with one of those power plants? Sheesh, what’s the fun of going out in the mud without the lusty roar of my 600 horse power diesel engine. Yep, there wasn’t much factory about the old girl, but she was sitting in the parking lot waiting for me. Pity, that I’d never see her again.

It is a vastly different world now. Islam had failed to take over so far, but they'd had a huge impact on fashion out of the simple need for self preservation. On the bright side, Christians were thoroughly discredited by people like Dime and Hagen. In fact, religion in general was in for a rough stretch. Both men and women now covered all the skin they could, due to the problems with the Ozone layer. The Westerners and the Arabs now had a monster wakening to the East that make their petty squabbles about Haram and Halal seem like nothing more than flea bites.

The next thing I know is that I'm waking up and everything seems out of kilter. It only took a minute to realize that I was in a cute adult sized crib. After laying there for a while, I struggled to my feet, hanging onto the side of the crib,

"What the hell's going on here?" I bellowed.

Oops, that was no bellow, it was the sexiest little simper that I'd ever heard, and it was coming out of my little mouth. With that, I plunked my soft little butt back down and sat there completely nonplused. It was then that I noticed a mirror wall across from me, and looking in it was like a scene from the most frightening horror flick I’d like ever seen. It took a while to realise that the woman in the mirror was actually me, because she did everything that I did. She was like totally hot! It was all a bit much and I did cry some, but my emotions seemed somewhat damped. Obviously someone had tampered with me. Well, Duh!

Geez, I was just resetting the power … guess I didn't make it.

My head began to swim and I thought I was going to, you know … trip out … shut down … pop my cork, or pass out. I lay back on the soft bed and looked through the bars. Did I get that drunk and not remember it? I let time pass as I just drifted along for a while.

Later, I could hear someone in the next room, and then they came through the door. The first thing I saw was the fat, ugly perve's lips accompanied by the most insane leer on his face that I had ever seen on anyone in my life, and it was attached to a skinny, wild eyed, kinky haired yellow man who looked very, very demented! I knew that if something didn't happen right away, then the guy was going to boink me, or worse, until my eyes were crossed. Boink me! What happened? I knew that a few minutes ago I was setting a switch on a 60 Kv. line. Something must have gone wrong! God, what an understatement that was!

As soon as he walked up to my um Crib, I began to look for a way to escape. I was wearing one of the sexiest little baby doll mini dresses that I had ever seen, and Mr. Lewd was about to unwrap me.

"Get the fuck away from me jackass", I screamed and then went for the other side of the bed and over the side.

I landed on my feet and damned near broke my ankle because of the club height heels I was wearing. He was around the bed in a flash and quickly grabbed both my wrists; with one hand. I flailed as hard as I could but he treated me like a weak little bunny rabbit.

"It is no use, my dear. I saw you go up in smoke when the primitive power flashed over, so I just grabbed your remains and built you over to my own personal specifications. I left your brain intact because 'frankly Charlotte, I don't give a damn' if you object. Oh, I slipped in a little conditioning so you would know how to use the um modifications that I gave you. I wanted a helpless little spit fire, and guess what, you’re it!"

His laugh was so frightening, I was almost petrified and I might as well have been because he was so much stronger than me. Not that it was saying much.

He kept on with the most frightening laugh that I had ever heard, and it felt like my heart would burst with the fear.
He told me about how he'd made my ears tiny and cute, my hair way past my butt so he could tie me up with it. He said he made my mouth the perfect size to accommodate his um "thing".

"OH, you’re saying I won't need tweezers dickless?"

Some people get really aggressive when frightened and I was going to try to rip his throat out with my bare teeth! My words seemed to piss him off. Gosh, maybe I shouldn't have said that?

“I’m gonna fix you so you are never disrespectful to me, your Master!”

“Hyeah, Masterbator!” I hissed with all the venom I could muster.”

He told me he'd made me very short so I would fit in his carry on, and gave me a round little butt that would readily take his equipment in either hole. He'd deliberately made my feet so I would love my heels, and made me weak and tiny enough so that I'd never be able to attack him or hardly even be able to open the door by turning the knob because I'd be so weak; it would take both hands!

He also made my cunny so that even walking aroused me. He said that way, I would be easy to get hot, and it would make my escape impossible because by the time I had run a little way, I would be popping orgasms like a string of firecrackers.

"You bastard, how could you do such a thing!" I raged at him.

No matter how pissed I was, my voice still sounded like a sexy come on. What the hell, did he make me merely a lewd robot?

“Yes, I am a bastard and proud of it!” Again, with that really frightening laugh, sigh.

The more he talked, the less I liked him and the more I vowed to find a way to off him with all due, and extreme prejudice!

I quickly guessed that we were in some sort of a big vehicle but I had no idea what so ever that we were flying in space. There were no windows and I could not feel any movement. He'd dragged me into his bedroom by this time, pushed my dress up and ripped my panties off. I was pinned under him and he was about to impale me without even a warm up or anything. Then he pinched my butt! God, the ass!

"Hey you, that hurts like hell!"

"It does?” he did not sound sorry at all. “ Well get over it sweetie!"

He was just getting ready and I was starting to warm up; feeling things I didn't want; shit I hated this, when suddenly there was a really solid and jarring thump that nearly knocked us both off the bed. He looked really pissed for a second and then got up and ran for a locker in the wall. He pulled out a rod looking thing and ran out of the room.

I laid there dazed for a moment, trying to get my mind back on more mundane things, but when I heard a loud and icky sounding zap, I dove for cover. I was hiding under the bed when two enormous police looking people walked into the room. The end of one of their rod thingies was smoking a little. The odor of burnt flesh was starting to waft into the bedroom. I say people, because they were bipeds, and looked pretty exotic, not insanely ugly like Mr. Pervert.

"Well, Ham, I wish you wouldn't have killed him. It would have been fun to watch him work out his days on a factory ship."

"I hated him so much Japheth that it just got the best of me, especially since I saw what he did to the girls in the school out on Rokold number twelve."

One of the plod bent over and looked right into my eyes where I was hiding under the bed. "OK, darlin, come on out of there. He chuckled like my dearly departed grandfather from Montana. He reached out his huge hand and I grasped it with both of mine. He had to use his other hand to grasp mine because I was not strong enough to hold on.

Still very frightened, I lashed out. "How did you know I was under there? Are you gonna abuse me too?"

"Geeze look at this Ham, the bastard made himself a little toy and she won't be able to live as an adult on her own world. Shit lets reanimate him and kill him a few more times!"

“The bastard wut dun this to ya is worm fodder now." Ham Said to me.

"I'd love to Jepeth, but we got that escaped burglar over on the Nicene arm, and besides we been out a long time and I'm gettin horny for my Jezebel."

I was still fuming and wanted to make sure the bastard that did this to me was completely dead. "Are you sure he's dead? Give me that thing, I want to make sure."

He let me have his rod, and I minced into the other room. When I got there, Mr. Pervert laid there on his back and had a neat hole in his chest and it was still smoking. Just to make sure, I pointed the rod thing at him and pushed the little button but nothing happened! Dammit, now I was really pissed. I walked up to him and started beating him over the head with the rod. Man that was so satisfying!

When one of the boys took the rod back from me, I was sitting on the floor, completely exhausted and weeping my heart out!

"Hey girl, I already told you that we done killed him good."

"I know, but I wanted to make sure. Do you see what he did to me?"

He helped me to my feet, and took me in his arms. Of course he had to kneel to match up with me, but it felt comforting to have his arms around me.

"I wish I could find one like her. Every time you come back to work, you wear that worn out smile of contentment. I can't wait til my divorce is final."

They both turned and looked me up and down like farmers at an auction. "OK, missy, where did he get you from?"

"Have you heard of Earth?” I asked. Geez, I'd only been conscious for about 20 minutes and I was still feeling like I just came out of the spin cycle.

"Well, with sentient civilizations, we try to use the local name in all our locator data, let's see what we can find?"

I sat there on the bed while one of the cops pecked away on a little clip board looking thing.

"Nope, that isn't any good. Hey Jepeth, look at the ships logs to see if you can find anything?"

"Well, while Jepeth is tracking where you came from, let me do some assessment and see what he did to you."

"I can tell you exactly what he did to me"

"You mean you can remember your past life?"

"You bet your ass I can. That guy was a creep and a pervert too."

We talked for a while about my past; what I used to do; and any Astronomical things I could remember I told him that I used to weigh about 250 lbs and now I'd guess about 90 lbs, if that. The creep said that my old body was badly damaged and he used my remains to build me. The creep had left my memories intact, because they didn't matter to him, but he told me that he'd slipped some conditioning in to make me a better toy.

"Well, dear, I can tell you that the very fact that we are talking means he slipped a language package into your brain, and the way that the criminal element does things, it is likely that you understand languages that are not legal for you to understand. He probably converted some of your intellect to language, and you probably do not have a strong will now."

"Oh yes I do, but he was so strong that he could force me!"

"Time for you to lie down and take a nap!” he said forcefully.

Much to my surprise, I moved to the head of the bed, crawled under the covers, and laid down in spite of the fact that I previously did not want to do it.

"Yep, he tampered with your brain alright"

"OK, you can get up, I was just testing."

With that, he took me down to the creep's scientific suite, and had me get in the diagnostic evaluator. It took about 20 minutes.

"Ok, missy, I can see what he did, but we can only fix some of it. You're not legal to travel to the other civilizations. You'd hear too much and it would cause trouble if you told anyone. So, I can place you in a nice little place on my home planet, and you can spend your life as a pet, or I can take you back to your home, and let you feed us information." He said.

Continuing, he elaborated, "We can set you up in a comfortable situation, and you can monitor things; be our informant. We can fix parts of your brain; your will power can be increased. But, some things will have to stay the way they are."

Just about that time, Japheth walked in. "From what she's saying, I am guessing that he was over in the Browel cluster, or at least passed through there. There are quite a few low development potential areas there. Maybe one or more of them actually have some intelligent life."

They worked for a while and then we spent what seemed to be a couple days driving over there. It was amazing. There didn't seem to be any huge gathering of force to drive us. When we began to move, Ham was good enough to let me watch. I thought it was a window, but he told me that what I saw was just a very good graphical representation. He said that I could come back and look anytime I wished, and none of the controls were keyed to me so I couldn't hurt anything.

We did find that I could run the food processors, and that I knew how to make some pretty nice food, and serve it. Along the way, we came up with a name for me.

"I think we'll designate you Maptu".

"Hey, that really sucks for a name, I don't like it".

"Ok, my sassy little miss, think of your own or I am going to fix it in your little head and you'll be stuck with it".

He sounded grumpy and I didn't like it.

I sat there for a minute or two and one name came surfacing but I did not know if I liked it. "How about Anna?"

“Nope, you need 5 characters.”

"OK, then Hanna".

"Fine by me, but you'll be stuck with it, and not the lovely Maptu."

"You gotta be kidding buddy that is the most repugnant name I ever heard!"

"Hey, it was my Mom's name, so shut up or I am gonna beat your ass!"

I opened my mouth to retort, but suddenly I couldn't say a word.I stood there with my tiny fists clenched and looking menacingly at him.

"Go lay down, your pissing me off!" Now, he'd sent me to bed to boot!

A while later he came in to wake me up. "Do you think you can behave now?"

I sat up in bed and nodded. "OK, you can get up and talk now".

I was still very pissed, but I knew who the boss was.

"I'm sorry about your Mom's name; I didn't mean to offend you!"

"Ah, it's OK."

I could see that the look on his face belied his words. It was pretty easy to see that I had hurt is feelings. Was this huge ape falling for me? I had to think about that for a bit and then it occurred to me that maybe I was falling for him?"

"How about naming me Hanna Maptu?” I asked.

"It's OK, you have your own desires, and I should not interfere."

"Hey, I need at least two names, and most people on earth have three. In fact some of the Arab people have a good half dozen of them." I didn't know that, but I wanted to make him feel good.

He turned around to look at me good and hard for a minute. "OK, you asked for it. You are Hanna Maptu."

I felt this little shiver run down my spine and suddenly, I knew for sure that my name was Hanna Maptu.

"Um, did you just do something to me?"

"Yes, I did. All creatures my race associates with have this tiny segment of their brain where identity is kept. We do not consider beings without this part to be sentient. It is encrypted and the only one who can change it is a guy like me. I have the keys to that place in the brain, and I just inserted your ID in there."

"Thank you", I said. I also felt an attraction to him. "Did you make me attracted to you?"

"No, you were already that way, I just did reduce it somewhat. I didn't know it was there but could have seen it if I looked. I was not expecting it. Do you object?"

"No" but can we fix it so that you can't shut me up and put me to bed? I am not a child you know."

"What makes you think that?" He swung around and looked at me with a predatory smile.

"I am NOT!"

I said as petulantly as I could. The next thing I know is that I am laying across his legs and he is spanking me softly as I wiggle and squeal, at first in fright, and then with glee!"

"Will you behave now?" He said to me.

We both knew it was a game as I giggled hysterically.

He stood me on my feet and for a moment our gazes locked.

"GAH! It would be so easy to violate my vows with you!" He said, sounding half angry. "Come with me, we need to make you less of a problem to me and more safe for yourself."

We quickly walked down to a room with a bed that was covered with an enclosure.

Sliding back a door, he said, "Get in there and lay down."

The bed was very soft and I literally sank into it. In the warmth and soft light I quickly drifted into deep slumber. Later, I don't know how long, I wakened slowly, feeling so refreshed.

He opened the door and began to talk to me as he helped me out of the enclosure.

"OK, you will no longer be under control to anyone less than a level 11 and only the most trusted are that level. For some reason, your captor increased your intellect, and gave you a great deal of knowledge, so much so that you are technically illegal. That and your language capability make you very dangerous. Japheth has isolated the area where he thinks you were taken from. He has been listening to your primitive signals and would like you to come into the monitoring room and see if he is correct?"

It took us the better part of the afternoon, but out of six solar systems emitting radio signals, we finally found good old Earth. I was sobered to know that our neighborhood was well populated with sentient beings with the closest being about 12 light years from us.

"Well, on Earth, we don't have really viable space travel, and unless something unexpected happens, we won't for the foreseeable future." I said. Come on let me get you some dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Yes", Japheth said, "Your race ain't ready to get out of the stroller yet.

When you start watching the planet, you will be the law there. Anything you see let me and Ham know and we'll come straighten it out, if you can't handle it."

Several days later, we'd been floating in the vicinity of the Earth for a while, just listening and watching.
Ham, Japheth and I were having a conversation.

Ham said to me, "Hanna, we are going to leave you this little ship, and some really advanced monitoring equipment. With what we are seeing now, it should be no problem to get you a nice little place in the country with a big barn to park the ship in for a while. We are going to teach you how to get the funds you need from the criminals and then you are going to begin turning your world around. As is the case with most worlds at your stage of advancement, dishonesty, greed and other malice need to be dealt with."

Japheth said, "Most of the economics, science and strategies you already know. Mr. Pervert, as you call him went to a great deal of trouble making you really smart. Maybe he just wanted a very good personal assistant. He also made you undeniably attractive; men will be like putty in your hands, but the down side is that you will be pretty vulnerable to them. We fixed as much of that as we can. After we eat, I am going to make you a little taller and stronger, so you can live as an adult in your society."

I said, "I don't know how to handle it all. Maybe you should get someone else to do this for you."

Japheth said to me, "Darlin' Yawl jes gonna have ta pull up yer boots and tighten yer britches, an I knows ye all kin do it." He had this goofy grin on his face and I was giggling so hard that I was afraid I'd wet myself.

"How do you expect me to learn anything if you do that to me, mister?" At that point I just wanted to get in bed with him, but he would not allow it. He'd told me that his divorce was not final for another 2 years and until the vow issues were resolved, he could not take another lover.

I'd shown them the house I used to live in, I owned it, but since I was officially dead, it was sitting vacant. By now, we'd figured out that I had been gone a little over 11 months. Ham and Japheth had picked me up about 6 weeks ago, in the next galaxy, Andromeda.

During the time since, I'd learned as much as I could about finance, business, politics and astrophysics, plantetology and um good cooking. A lot of it was simply put into my head with their machine. Much of that was owing to the programing methods of Mr. Pervert. I was still trying to wrap my mind around the idea that our own galaxy was 100,000 light years across, and these guys were telling me that they made contact with us in what humans call the Andromeda Galaxy. They told me how far it was but I just couldn't comprehend it. Finally they resorted to just saying things were so many days or weeks away.

Ham was in his cowboy mode again.

"Lookit here Dahlin', this speed o light thing you are so taken with, don't mean nuthin ta us." The way we travel, don't use no energy 'tall".

"Whatever, but if you let my Dinner get cold because you are talking, I am not going to like it at all buster!"

Ham just gave me his idiot grin and dug in. For the life of me, I could not understand how two beings who were so advanced could act like 19th Century Cowboys! Well, actually they were acting like 20th century Hollywood cowboys.

Even their civilization still did not know how big the Universe was, but they did figure that it was many times bigger than what we humans thought. That was a huge problem, so finally the most advanced civilizations just started sending guys like Ham and Japheth out to keep order. Ham hadn't been home in 30 years and Japheth hadn't been there in 3 1/2. They sent probes home once in a while, and they'd catch a dispatch probe when they were lucky.

The boys, Ham and Japheth, were built to a certain genetic standard to be law givers in the Universe. They were less police than teachers. They had virtual carte blanche to do whatever it took to help a primitive planet advance. They were basically going to set me up as a sort of demigoddess.

They said that they were leaving in a few days to go check out the other populated Systems in the area, and they planned to be gone about a month, give or take. I was feeling a little bitchy because I wanted my old house back, and I was having some PMS. Geeze, what a pain woman’s problems are? Maybe they were leaving because I was biting everyone's heads off. The trigger seemed to be last night when I was frustrated and angry and started losing it. They’d have never known but the doors on the cupboards were making satisfying bangs when I slammed them, and some of the pots were small enough to throw; making satisfying noises when they crashed into breakable things. Later, I was sitting on the floor of the kitchen sobbing, and trying to pick up some of the things I'd broken.

"Well, ya'll feel better now?" Ham asked.

It was then that I realised that I was just blowin off some excess estrogen. I giggled and sat there with a red face. "Yes, I do, it was most satisfying."

"Good"

The boys had found me a nice ranch up in the hills of Montana not that far from Butte, Montana, and "Our Lady of The Rockies". They'd nestled the ship in a ravine near the house and did some creative artistry to make it look like it belonged there. They also put some gadgets near it that made people not want to go there or look at it. They'd bored a quick tunnel between the house and the ship to make it easy for me to get back and forth. The walls of the tunnel were glassy and smooth. Somehow, they made them glow in rainbow colors. It was so pretty that I almost wanted to live in the tunnel rather than the house. The phone and cable lines to the house quickly proved inadequate, so the ship inspired the local company to run 5 new optical lines there.
I was watching what the ship was doing and found out, that I was now a work at home stock trader. The ship and I talked back and forth so much and it seemed so agreeable and intelligent that I decided to name her Prudence. I had her go out and buy me a car suitable for Montana, and she had a Hummer looking thing delivered.

"Prudence, this is not a girl's car."

I complained but she assured me that the additional equipment required a car that size. I didn't even get in it for a few days, until I decided I wanted to go shopping in Butte, but they didn’t even have a Target, so I drove on down to Bozeman. Before I could go, I had Prue get me some suitable Montana woman's clothes and the UPS guy shows up with boots, jeans and a pretty top. For some reason, I did not like pants, but did not know why.

Well, I got in the car, and at first I knew that I would not be able to drive it but as I piteously complained to Prue, she moved things around until I could reach the pedals, could see, and it felt good. She wouldn't let me go until she talked to me about what the car could do. It could not get stuck in the snow, and could defend its self. It could take me anywhere in the world very fast, like in seconds.

As I went through town and decided that the place should be named Butt. It was ugly, dirty, smelly and just yukky. There was still a K Mart there but I wanted Macy’s or even Target. The drive down to Bozeman was pretty flat and relaxing.

I picked up a few things only to have Prudence tell me what was better and where I could get it. After a while Prudence's mothering began to get oppressive. Finally, rather than have words with her, I simply gave up and let her take me home with a boot load of meagre treasures. One item included a denim mini skirt; something that Prue really tried to talk me out of buying.

When we got there, several things were on my desk, needing immediate attention. It looked like India and Pakistan were about to be at loggerheads. Another report said that China was very intent on dominating world markets. Saudi Arabia was very concerned about its dropping income from oil and was being forced to charge fair prices. I gave Prue permission to hire some very svelte looking bad boys to tamper with the politics in the Far East. They were to find the crooks and warn them, and later kill them if required.

I hired an Engineering group to convince Saudi Arabia that it needed to educate everyone there fairly, including the Shia and women. I decided that if pushed, I'd introduce genetics in Saudi Arabia to make the rich too dumb to run things, make the radical mullahs incapable of memorization, and among other things get women driver's licenses! I even sent several probes over there to reprogram the Mutaween (religious police). There would be no more stoning or hangings. Along the way, we figured out that the men were such bad drivers that the women were not safe driving there, so I had to back down a little on that.

Oh, there was so much manipulation to do all over the world, what’s a girl to do?

I decided not to fix global warming right away. It gave them something to focus on.

Things went pretty smoothly for a couple more weeks. The boys should be back soon, I hoped. It was in the days before the boys came back that I began to sense someone was fighting back at me, but I couldn't figure out whom. As Prudence analyzed money and communication flows, a pattern began to emerge. It seemed as if there were seven power centers. Immediately, I thought of the old tales of seven families that ruled the world with satanic power. At first I just laughed.

Then Prudence's technology, as powerful as it was, began to develop blind spots. I even contemplated sending armed troops into one power center to see what we could find. One by one, the satellites that over flew those areas began to malfunction as they passed over where I felt the power centers were, only to resume normal operation when out of range. It was getting to be far too much for me when I noticed that the boys had returned.

Ham acted like a hound on a scent. Japheth took me into the diagnostics room and had me get in the chamber. He didn't say half dozen words to me. I was very worried, but fell right to sleep. Later, I woke up feeling like I had been drinking all night. Right away, I noticed that I could not hear Prudence. Ham and Japheth were both there and looked concerned.

"Hanna, we have some bad news for you. We have had to shut down 'Prudence' as you named her and we don't know when or if we can restart her."

I had come to depend on her so much, "What am I going to do without her?" I was confused. Tears were streaming down my face. I was grieving for her.

"Oh, we'll work this out little lady" Ham said in his best cowboy imitation.

As they explained it to me, some really bad people had managed to escape the law thousands of years ago and came out to our neighborhood to set themselves up. It looked as if there were about 50 power centers in the half dozen solar systems in our galactic area. The boys didn't figure that out until they got their ship well away from mine. The whole thing seemed really undefined and complicated.

We moved into the Kitchen and I began to fix them Dinner of Roast Beef, Mashed Potatoes and Asparagus. Both the boys insisted that my cooking was better than the processor; well Duh!

They explained to me that once they were a light year or so away from Earth, signal levels indicated strong traffic between the local systems, and upon eaves dropping on those messages, they figured out that the locals were aware of my presence. It took the bad guys a while to decide, but they had taken over Prue, and were going to destroy me and her.

Apparently my ship and I were originally set up to monitor the known government of the universe, meaning Ham, Japheth and everyone like them. The criminals that had come here were trying to set up a system of power that could challenge the legal government of the center of the Universe. Mr. Pervert had apparently been on his way to drop me off near civilization for me to begin reporting. My ship was the transmitter and I was the eavesdropping device they told me.

"Um, boys, if he was taking me somewhere, who was picking him up?

“We don’t know yet, but we suspicion that you were made in Earth orbit and that means they could have, and probably do have more ships in this and the other solar systems. We’ve gone to 6th dimensional stealth and we do not think they will be able to detect us.”

In a few minutes, after dinner, they decided to fly Prue, the ship that is, up to their ship and put her in the hold of their vessel. They seemed sort of tense for a few minutes because they explained to me that the primary controls in Prue were shut down and they were flying her manually. It took some doing but they finally got poor Prue situated.

“Do you think that you can fix her?” I asked.

“Hanna, it depends on what they did to create the Artificial Intelligence. Prudence was one of the more sophisticated ones we’ve seen out this far. We don’t even bother putting them in a box and where I am from. They are mostly mobile, though our laws prevent us from putting them in something that imitates life.”

“I am going to miss her.”

“I will see what I can do to repair her.”

As they flew Prue out to their ship, I got to see for the first time that my little ship was about the size of two ranch houses at home, and pretty boxy. As I looked out one of very few real view ports in a little bubble, I could see that their ship was about the size of a shopping center back home. It was not streamlined or anything either, just an ovoid sphere. Geeze, that was really unglamorous. I thought the ships would be pretty and streamlined, but nope they weren’t.

In a few hours we were sitting out beyond the Oort cloud. As we made the trip, they explained to me that both the Kuiper belt and the Oort cloud were part of a system that fed water and other elements to the inner planets of our solar system. I was like totally flabbergasted to find that Earth got lots of ice meteors every day; some of them as big as 40 tons.
As soon as we got situated out there, the boys started programing a probe that would make the run back to the home galaxies. Along the way, it would send out queries for any available patrol to rendezvous with us to give aid. Ordinarily they wouldn’t but this was a treasonous act that they’d uncovered and those were treated very seriously.

“Will there be war?” I asked cautiously.

“I am afraid so Hanna. First, scouts will assess who is here and how many there are. For this solar system, I am going to recommend that we sterilize the planet you call Mars first, and set up terraforming equipment and atmospheric sheilding. In less than one of your Earth years, there can be arable soil, free water, and air suitable for humans to breathe there. Then, when the fleet arrives, the sterilization process on Earth will begin. Every living human on earth will be removed, checked for improper DNA and placed on Mars. Every effort to keep family units together will be made."

“In the process, any interlopers will be dealt with, and either neutralized, sent to a suitable confinement area, or vaporized. They have been in this system a long time and may account for the reason that your area was given such a low score on previous probe missions. We think that they genetically modified humans so they could blend in.”

“You know, in our mythology, there are daemons and the satan. They are said to live underground in a place called hell.” I said.

“Well, that’s a wrinkle I had not heard of.” Japheth said.

“We’ll have to get that in the dispatches we send to the rear.” Shem said.

We talked about it for a while and given that new idea the boys pretty quickly began to gather data that supported what I said. Geeze, I had only thought a little, I had no idea. Maybe it was information that Mr. Pervert had put in me?

The next morning when I got up, I could hear the boys talking in their control room. Yep, I was still sleeping in that crib but the boys had been nice enough to remove the sides from it. I walked in there to see what was going on and they ignored me for a while.
Information was beginning to return from the Galactic Center, and the rulers were hopping mad. In a short few days they were told to expect a full Action Force, which would be around a hundred Task Forces. A task force was a planet class ship accompanied by 25 or so smaller vessels. My goodness, according to them, it was like sending a Tank to shoot a rabbit.

“Man Japheth, I thought it was gonna take a year to get them out here?”

“Well Hanna, I don’t know why they are moving so fast, but I can already see the distortion in the view back toward what you’d call our home. Here look back this way.” He explained that even though light only moved at "light speed", the 19th demensional waves that preceeded the Task Force, arrived almost instantaniously, though the task force would not.

We’d moved over to the bubble and he was pointing out what looked like a distortion in the glass. I could see it and it seemed to be moving and pulsating, though I doubted that it could be possible this soon. We would be informed later that this area was now thought to be the source of criminal activity along this section of the Universe.

“I’m really confused Japheth, not too long ago, I was a lineman, and on the weekends I’d take my truck out mudding. Now here I am in space and you’re talking about Galaxies and Universes and I don’t even know much about what they are.” I said.

“Ok, Hanna I see this is one area in which you were not programed. Where you are from, is one of a half dozen solar systems we located in the Perseus arm of your local Galaxy that you humans have chosen to call The Milky Way. Your Galaxy is about 200,000 light years across, and that is medium as Galaxies go. The Galaxy closest to your Milky Way is Andromeda and it is larger than the Milky Way. If you traveled to my home galaxy, you’d pass so many other galaxies that you couldn’t even begin to count them.” he said.

He displayed a diagram that showed the Milky Way and some of the surrounding galaxies. It made sense, but in no time at all I was thinking about what to fix for dinner.

“I’m not even going to try to explain how we travel. Even our finest scientists seem able to explain. There is a Guild and that is what they do. They build our ships. The one you are in has six propulsion units, one of which has failed. It is highly unlikely that another will fail within the life of this ship.” Japheth said.

“Ok, I get it, but I just don’t feel very curious about space or travel.”

“Well maybe he deliberately tuned that out of you to make room for other interests.”

“So now you are saying that he made even more changes than I even know about?”

“What about your mudding truck? Do you remember what you called it?”

It was then that the full impact of what was and was not in my memory anymore began to really sink in. It was almost good that I didn’t remember much about my lost family. Oh, I knew about them, but the pain was gone. Some of what the pervert had done really did have a soft side. I sighed as I thought about it and then went on to other things.
A few days later, as I was sitting in the observation window and ovoid spherical looking objects; some of them huge began to appear around us. There were hundreds of them, though Japheth told me that one of them could have done the job. The rulers were going to make sure that this was taken care of with no mix ups.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I watched as Earth began to recede in the view screen. It had actually taken several months to clean up the mess the outlaws had created. I was even allowed to return to my home town, and to move into my old house. Gosh, what a slob I’d been. I could no longer stand a mess and what was I thinking with those colors in my old bedroom and the kitchen? It just made me sick. I didn’t have to work, and since I knew so much, I even tried a stint tutoring at the local college. The college boys were drooling all the time and the young women were peevish because of my looks, but when their test scores began to soar, that evaporated pretty fast.

But there was still an underlying sadness to my life. Something was missing. The boys were off somewhere and all but a dozen of the big ships had gone on to other things. They were still finding genetically altered people, and once in a while they’d run into a really bad one. Their scanners had found pockets of them deep in the earth, proving the existence of sheol or at least their version of it. They found a pocket of them in the moon, and had begun scanning every moon and planet in this system. It would take a while but they were going to scan the sun too, though I could never figure out how anything could live in there.

As it turned out, nothing could live in the Sun, but they did have a transponder unit hovering near the surface, that would allow them 11th dimensional level transportation. The investigation of their intent and the existence of other units was continuing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Japheth. Earth and the rest of my solar system had nearly disappeared against the background of surrounding stars.

“Hey lil girl, ya all feel like fixin me some dinner?”

“Why kind suh, ah jest think ah kin do jest that … “ I’d started giggling and then he started to tickle me along the side of my neck.

“Stop that Japheth!” I shrieked, but still giggling.

I ran off down the passage toward the kitchen, him in hot pursuit. Well, not actually. I knew that he could easily out distance me, but it was fun with a big handsome man who would soon be my husband on my heels. Yes, it had been seventeen months since we’d met. In 149 days and 7 hours we would marry. We were headed off a little further down the Perseus arm. Who knows what we would find? A little chill went up my spine as I wondered what our babies would look like.
The end?

Extreme

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

17,500 < Novella < 40,000 words

Genre:

Transformations

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

So, here is another of my whoppers. I do hope that you all enjoy it. I had hoped to get other work done but this old yarn just kept niggling at the back of my brain and at my age, I have none to spare, jolly good then.

Here are some reading instructions: I write using the Queen’s English and the proper spelling for it. I am sorry that my knowledge of the Queen’s English is inferior but I am endeavouring to get it learnt my best speed. It is my hope to visit the UK to for further education in time. Full stop!

Extreme

By: Gwen Brown

My lethal rapid fire guns lapsed into deadly silence! The minimally sized magazines were empty! Hysteria inundated my mind and soul. I waited to die a horrible death in the cruel teeth of the dreaded enemy. My breaths, sounded like hoarse, hysterical sobbing, and my thin face felt forlornly flushed, my insignificant lips throbbed distressingly. Absolute frenzy ruled my mind; that born of paralyzing, profound terror, and I felt a desperate need to survive just this one instant; no longer; just this instant; let the next one worry about its bloody self I thought. Nothing happened after a few more seconds. Slowly I looked down on the scope. It was blank. Feeling way past undone, I wondered if the display was working?

The cooling fans on the electronics whirred away and the powerful gyros were winding down. It was like waking from a bad dream. I felt as if I’d been in another nightmarish reality and only just returned. My body felt hot and wet from the mental exertion of the last half-minute. Now I felt as if my whole being were going down into a black hole. Presently, I drifted in and out of consciousness as the stimulants oxidized out of my worn out body.

The suction unit in my mouth slurped noisily away, cleaning up the last of the mess, God I hated that thing! My heart was still pounding desperately in my ears. At the time, I was completely unaware that my heart had stopped completely for over a minute after the battle. The Doctors did not tell the pilots this. I'd lost the time and didn't know it.

The stench of my own vomit, rank with bile, wafted up to my nose. The unit fit neatly into my mouth where part of the suction unit extended down my throat to intercept the first part of the bile being expelled from my stomach, but some of the odour somehow always escaped. The unit had evolved through many versions, the designers learning something from each death until it had gotten to this one. It was daunting to wear at first and took a lot of getting used to because ones' gag reflex tried to expel it as soon as the tube was inserted in the pilots' throat. The worst part was that when the fighter was locked down for battle, the part in my mouth inflated, locking it in place. It took a long time before I could control my hysteria. In the first training, we were told to carry a soft foam piece that looked like a banana, and to practice inserting it in our spare moments.

There was no microphone in my helmet. Voice communication was impossible during a battle. While we were waiting to be hauled in, most of us were too incapacitated to speak anyhow. The little cabin did contain a microphone but was only accessible when the suit part unclasped my body. Usually the only ones to use it were the maintenance people.

I could feel the hygiene unit cleansing between my thighs where I’d messed myself. I had gotten so used to being incontinent in battle that I didn't even think about anymore. In engagement, the way we fought; one was fortunate to survive, let alone worry about our bowel habits.

I often asked why they just didn't use robot fighters. The answer I got from the liaison alien was that humans were more suitable to the purpose. I had no idea that the ultimate goal was to capture an enemy Louse alive although the idea would have made sense to him. However the brass knew that if too many of the pilots tried to capture one alive, then the whole force was in danger of being overcome by the Lice. It was a balance so delicate that none of us fully understood it. The Aliens reasoned that perhaps one, which was wounded or stunned, would be the last one of an attacking group. Thus there would be less risk to the whole group involved. Their logic didn’t seem like logic to us, but since they were the one’s who’d shown up with the weapons to help us, we sort of had to do what they said.

It was oblique reasoning, unfamiliar to humans but since these guys, the friendly Aliens had travelled in space for who knows how long, the human brass yielded to their logic.

As I wound down, the sobbing and tears came. The oppression of the fast acting sedative gradually began to wane. The brass had found the stress of battle demanded fast acting, untested IV drugs just to keep us calm enough to fight. I had a permanent PIC line in my arm that led clear up to the Aortic Gallery just outside my heart. Thus any drug delivered would disperse in my body as fast as possible. They'd also found that deaths from pure physiological failure were down since they started using them. The replenishment IV slowly began to catch up with my body’s needs. My life would continue another day or hour, I did not know.

Humans did not know it at the time, but the Aliens knew that their drugs were untested and dangerous to humans and the probability of genetic damage was high. We also did not know that the Aliens had been looking for a particularly, aggressive, ruthless champion to fight the Lice and humans were it. Humans were apparently uniquely suited for this sort of fighting, and the Aliens hoped that we would not turn and destroy them also if we triumphed over the lice. In short, they knew that humans liked to fight and the lustful shedding of blood drove us. We were the barbarians of the known Universe.

I let my silver and white ship tumble for a while; stars circling it on all sides; carrying me, its helpless occupant safely during my recuperation. There was no autopilot to stabilize the fighter. The brass wanted as little as possible to jam or break. I didn't care but had to rest for at least a few moments. Presently I used a few economical movements and stabilised my ship.

Shortly, I felt a nudge from behind. The re-supply carrier, USS Bennett, had captured me and was drawing me in. Due to the various vectors from my initial injection into battle, the thrust of the guns, and the changes in attitude due to my orientation jets, it was felt that it was most economical to not have primary propulsion on our fighters because of the weight. The Alien tractor beams and instrumentation could locate us, orient us, and pull us in far more efficiently. There was much argument for the primary propulsion but the increased velocity of angular target alignment afforded due to the decreased mass of the fighter, eventually won the day. In short, a light object spins more easily than a heavy one.

The suddenness with which we were called into battle rendered space suits useless. We’d have to stay in them all the time. So instead, the designers made the little fighters, really nothing more than a mobile gun platform, into a spacesuit of sorts. The pilots could fit themselves into them in just seconds.

I had just finished High School and was going to be a Literature major in college but the call came, and I had to answer it. This technical detail was beyond me. Had I a choice, I’d be writing poetry. I’d never had the slightest interest in the military, guns, war, or alien invaders. Now, with no control over my destiny at all, I had intimate knowledge of all of them.

With the demand for pilots, it became necessary to use both genders to fill the ranks. Gradually the design of the fighters was adapted to accommodate either sex with minimal fuss. It was a great capitulation for humans to accept that their daughters would die in battle also. Right now, many gender barriers were falling to the will of humanity to survive. It was especially traumatic to Middle Eastern cultures as the men there were totally unused to their women filling such a vital role and often being better at it than the men. The crew aboard the carriers that serviced the fighters were up to 70 years old; older if they could still perform their jobs, and were also both men and women.

When we stood down, and were in a back area, it was common to see the national dress of every nation. I formed a fairly relaxed relationship with a Muslim man that surprised me. Three of his sisters were on the ship too and they’d had to compromise everything in order to fight for survival. Still, when he met his sisters, they observed Hijab.

A Chinese man who’d been a member of the communist party often reflected how different his life was in China, until the day he didn’t come back. It was hell. None of us knew when it would be us. It felt as if we soldiers were being mindlessly fed to a meat grinder. I remembered the public shock when the Aliens had promised not to reduce Earth population below one billion. I thought about that for a few moments. Wow, by the time they were done, would there be enough of humanity to survive?

In my last weeks on Earth, violent behaviour mostly stopped, except for the suicides. There were lots of them until a tranquilizing was released into our drinking water and beverages. Still on Earth, I did not know they’d done that, and we found out by accident after the war.

They’d figured out that the Lice, as we called them were coming from somewhere beyond the constellation Orion, and for the last 22 months we’d been running up that line in search of their planet or origin. We were now 1.2 million light years from Earth, a distance far too great for me to imagine. The Alien space drive was capable of astonishing speeds, but nothing like what the Lice could manage.

Physicians, aided by the aliens worked very hard to find a combination of drugs and food supplements which would best aid the young pilots in the battle for the survival of the human race. At the time, it was a closely guarded secret that the female members of the ranks would go through their terms of service of about two years with less lasting impact than men, allowing for the stress of battle it's self. However, some of the male pilots would suffer severe changes in their physiology, often not reversible. Even if they survived, those who suffered the worst physiological changes were simply listed as killed in action, their fate being unknown to the general public. The present theory about why women did better than men is that the battles were so short and pitched that there really was only time for instinct not planning, but none of that was certain.

I found out years later that there were billions of our stricken soldiers, men and women who lived on garden planets and were cared for by anyone who would do it. Rarely was it family that cared for the stricken, but the Aliens managed to find either human care givers or brought similar races in from other planets to see to it that those who fought were not robbed of their dignity.

I remembered finding out that the races of other planets had not shared equally in our sacrifice but Earth people were chosen because of our ruthless, aggressive tendencies. They judged that we were the only race likely to survive combat contact with the lice. I raged for hours but gradually had to face that in our sacrifice lay honour for it.

Back home, at the time, the gullible public actually thought that the men were given the most hazardous assignments and thus often did not return. The commander of the fighting forces made the decision to not notify Earth high command of the true circumstances, since the ultimate outcome would not change. Scientists were working feverishly to solve the problem with the high mortality rate of the male pilots. This was a situation that had to be fought out in space and in the clinics on shipboard. We had no time to wait for direction from Earth, the distance to which had grown to more than a year away. In time they would, but these first few years of the war effort could not be abandoned for want of a safer method of keeping the pilots alive.

All this retrieval activity occurred without voice radio traffic. We pilots were too worn out to respond so we were gathered like fallen nuts in an orchard. The fighting ships still showing vital signs would be first. Those too heavily damaged or who's pilot's had died because of the stresses of battle were much less urgent. No one was left behind.

Absently I watched as another ship; Eleanor's was captured and drawn in beside mine. She looked calm but weary. This late in the war, once the weapons were depleted, the seat released us, allowing the occupant of the fighter a little free movement. I wanted to wipe my eyes; a scant bit of my pride remained. She turned to look my direction. The emptiness in her eyes told the story of the battle. She'd not cracked this time. She'd be out there with me and the others next battle. When a pilot lost it, they were often not seen again unless they recovered after a few days off. I wondered when I would crack. The horror of the battle still fresh in my mind, I felt a quiver run from the top of my head to my toes.

I realized the seat had unclamped from me. I usually had to fight against it until the release came and wondered if I’d taken damage. I had no instrumentation to indicate that. My only function was to kill or be killed. I took another ravenous gulp of cabin air. It was so good to have that "thing" out of my throat.

In the distance, I could see one of the other fighters with a gaping hole in the bottom. I wondered who it had been. A wave of sympathy flooded through me. A single heartfelt sob escaped my lips. They felt swollen. Perhaps it was just bruising from the air unit. I failed to notice a few hairs on the chest piece, which clamped me while in battle

I felt my ship shudder as it contacted the guide rail and re-entered the launch barrel. In moments I was stopped next to Eleanor. I seemed to get her more than half the time. I was lucky this time. Next time I might get Jerry who'd want to play cards or Glen who'd want to brag or Sheila who'd be aloof. She'd never gotten over bunking with someone else, male or female.

It was simply too time consuming to get the pilots back to assigned "mates". One advantage was that if a pair just didn't get along, they probably wouldn't be together for long. Hopefully no one would get too attached to another person because the next day or hour one of the two could die, perhaps both.

Each pair of ships was berthed around a central break room core in a circular pattern, along with five other pairs. Initially, they'd thought that the pilots could congregate there between missions but the rooms were seldom used except on stand down by any but the maintenance folks. Our central core rotated like the magazine on a revolving pistol and there were dozens of magazines located around the periphery of our carrier.

At the beginning of an action, as we got into our fighters, the carrier went to maximum thrust and began catapulting fighters off on various vectors in front of the direction of travel. The result was that with the exchange of mass for velocity, the carrier was nearly stationary in space by the time all the fighters were launched. Were our circumstances not so desperate, the sight would be fascinating to watch.

Eleanor got out before me but looked tired, we all were. Her haggard smile cheered me somewhat as she stood there waiting for me to untangle myself from the electronics. These battles often only lasted perhaps 15 seconds. The approach to contact could take 30 minutes or so. One time the approach was a scant minute or two. He'd barely had time to get his mind mentally set for battle although he did not know how long the drugs actually needed. Generally the recovery period was a few hours or sometimes days. One never knew how long the break would be until the lice tried again. If another contact were made before they were ready, the next carrier in back of them would take the call.

The telltale clunks and clanks from below my feet told me that the maintenance people were already at work below. My ship would be ready to fly, depending on the damage, usually in a few minutes.

When you encountered the enemy, you fired and twisted and fired and fought as intensely as you could because if you didn't you'd be dead in seconds. They'd rigged cannon, lasers, and missiles in every combination they could think of.

I gazed at Eleanor's emaciated body above the battle skirt she wore. She looked like an undeveloped eight-year-old. If they stood side by side, he'd look just the same. Even my male organs had retracted as if I’d been in very cold water. The Doctors had discovered that a dramatically underweight body withstood the rigors of battle better. Earth side I weighted around 180lbs dressed down for football. Now I hoped I weighed 100.

I stood up and brushed out my battle skirt as I stepped out of the cockpit. The uniforms were all the same. A white Lycra bra top loaded with sensors, and a knee length full skirt. We wore no socks and very thin slippers. I’d put the slippers on as I got out of the craft. The boots we wore in flight were a part of the fighter. No one wore underwear. There was not time to disrobe to change into a suit when the enemy came and no one in their right mind would get into one of these ships and fight like the pilots did if they were unable to link to the ships' machinery. They'd really tried to make the ship/man interface as seamless as possible.

In training, by the time they all got to the ships, each pilot was well aware that haste was of great importance, so any scruples at not wearing underwear or men wearing skirts had disappeared entirely. Some of the more macho made nervous jokes about it but none refused.

Only the pilot berths were heated since they wore such brief clothing. The rest of the ship could go below freezing at times. The rest of the crew gained some comfort from the waste heat rejected from the machinery. This, in an effort to save fuel made the ride a sacrifice to all concerned.

It was difficult to imagine that a scant 7 years ago; I was playing on a swing in the back yard when the first attack had come. That day, the people of Earth would meet two different Alien races, and confront a terror so great that all the cultural differences here on Earth would suddenly be irrelevant.

The lice literally devoured a manned Mars's mission in minutes. Everyone was in shock since they'd been airing the mission live at all times on the Internet. Then the attack stopped suddenly, but not before everyone on the craft was dead. In the clear blue sky over earth, huge brown ships became visible in broad daylight. They were all different shapes and vaguely resembled balls of mud. The aliens inhabited small asteroids and flew them around the Galaxy until most of the mass was gone or they became structurally unstable.

It had been the Aliens who had repulsed the attack of the lice. It was a great deal of shock for the human race to absorb but in a few months; men and women of earth were training to fight off the Lice. Their Alien saviors were long thin bipeds who were hairless and wore almost no clothing. The name "Alien" seemed to stick no matter what the politicians said to call them.
The popular notion that man would take hundreds or thousands of years to develop into a space faring race had simply become a silly idea. In actuality it took a single day.

The Lice were generally several feet long and a few feet wide and had a set of jaws with which to crunch through the hulls of any ship. They looked very similar to Lice and thus the name stuck. They really seemed to love Aluminum but could settle for any metallic substance. The lice seemed not to prefer simple Iron. That is one reason the Aliens chose Asteroids with an iron make up or even better, non-metallic.

The Aliens and the human brass were trying to figure out how the Lice got around since their mass or lack of it, seemed to defy the laws of physics. They'd all hoped as they ran up the string of contacts that something would surface that everyone had been missing. There had to be a weak spot.

Now that I was just about 18 years old, I watched it all take place. The Alien beings seemed friendly enough but insisted that if we did not provide humans to help with the fight, they'd simply depart and let the Lice finish us off. The Lice would not hurt the humans, they'd simply take all the metal out of the solar system, thus thrusting humanity back into the Stone Age.

The Aliens didn't need to say anything about the nearly pure Iron/nickel core the Earth had. The implications were obvious.

When an alert sounded, the pilots were no more than a few feet from their craft. It took a toll on these pilots to go from sound sleep to piloting in under a minute but that was the only way to survive out here. The "Lice" as they were called dropped out of warp hopefully a few minutes from the ship and it took everything they could do to fight them off. Their method of propulsion was more advanced than even the aliens' had. Once in a while they'd come into view right on a task force. There'd be no choice but to expel as many of the fighters' rearward as possible and then detonate a huge explosive device, which wiped out the Lice and the forward ships in the task force. It was a horrible tactic to contemplate but necessary to prevent a more horrible death.
One of the objectives of these expeditions was to learn how the Lice traveled and where they came from.
There were 30 ships in the group. Each one of them had thousands of fighters on it. The ships rotated turns in the battle ready mode that way each group stayed in battle only a day or so and then stepped back for hopefully a week of rest.
Eleanor stepped over to me. "Tired?" She asked. She snuggled up close to me. I knew she wanted to do it before she slept. I hoped we’d get the chance to finish. I could feel myself stirring already, though I had no idea where a usable organ came from out of my shrunken junk. These days one did not pass up a chance at a little affection. I seemed to have increasing difficulty with sex and I had just written it off to being tired. Once or twice I'd felt as if my penis "shrunk" but had not had a chance to dwell on it. I was either fighting or sleeping these days.
The quarters were all the same. There were two fighters in a room, a bed in between; some food in a refrigerator at one end and a shower bath at the other. The food was mushy nameless mess of something and the showers were hot but had no soap. I rarely used the toilet while up front. The end of the battle usually depleted my body. Most of the time I didn't even undress to shower. I usually tried to change about every other day. We showered, still dressed and let the drying unit dry them and their clothing. I’d experienced getting into a fighter in wet clothing more than once.

I felt her push me onto the bed. I would perform or she'd make me with drugs. Was it rape? She felt a need and in this environment, there was no time for negotiation. They were locked in an intimate embrace quickly. She expected him to reciprocate with his. She had come in seconds and was winding up for more. He was still winding up.
I’d later find out after the war was over that no male soldier was ever accused of rape again. We all knew what it was like.

I always felt as if I were in a waking dream, never sobering up from all the drugs. Even on stand down it seemed as if I didn't start to feel right until just before we resumed duty.

Lights flashed, and alarms sounded. Eleanor was gone. I found myself stuporously falling into my ship before my mind had shifted gears. Each of my legs went down the control shafts. I quickly lifted my skirt to clear as my butt hit the split seat. A quick pop told him that his penis was in the tube and the suction had started at his ass. Thank God that they had stopped using an actual suction tube in my anus! Little prickles in my thighs told me the drug dispenser was ready, the shunt was connected. I quickly snapped the plug coming from my bra into the medical telemetry cord. In a woman, the bra served two purposes, providing modesty and holding the sensors that detected heart waves and other things. In men, they were told it was simply for the instrumentation. I had no idea that they also served to prolong the time in which any possible breast growth would go undetected.

As soon as the computer sensed the action, the seat began to grow in around me, shielding me from the G forces I would feel in a few seconds. The hated probe was at my lips. I always felt like a helpless captive as the probe snaked down my throat and inflated until the drugs began to take effect. When the battle ended, I would not remember anything but a dull horror.

On my scope I could already see the approaching enemy from the mother ships' feed. I leaned forward and his arms were clamped solidly just as the back of the seat slammed into him. I shoved my face into the shield and the seat clamped to the back of my shaven head. Now completely immobile, I thumbed the ready switch.

The sudden acceleration always made me dump my bowels. As I sighted the enemy, I involuntarily vomited. In rising horror, I saw that there were simply too many of them. I fell into a quivering paralyzed gaze as they approached. The same thing always happened. Suddenly the drugs slammed into me, bringing the deadly calm of a killer ready for battle. The LSD like drug they used would normally cause hallucinations but in my hyper terrorized state it only made me more aware of the surroundings and calmed my body enough to function like a machine. Oddly enough, the LSD, used in this way did not cause flashbacks.

They'd been pursuing the enemy in the only way they could. Rush forward Millions of miles in the direction they'd come out of warp from. They'd hoped that eventually the fleet would run up on a bunch of them about to launch.

About a week ago several ships from our group suddenly departed. The gossip was that headquarters was taking a few from each group for something special. None of us knew what.

The momentum from the launch had sent us thousands of miles in front of the mother ship. I could see the advancing front of Lice. Wait, wait, steady, wait, fire, fire, and fire as I tumbled in a whirlpool of fright, rage, hysteria and laughter fighting feverishly to survive.

My heart rate rose to over 200. I knew I’d stop breathing. I could feel my eyes dilate. A normal person would be unconscious or paralyzed but not us pilots. In less than a minute, I would lose 5 lbs. or so.

The echo of a huge clunk resonated in my mind as I returned to consciousness. It was like waking up after a disturbing coma. “What was that?”

From looking at the battle timer, my ammunition was gone in 14 seconds this time. “Shorter than usual”, I thought. There were three rounds in the forward cannon. That malfunction puzzled me, but with no targets in sight I didn't feel like wasting the ammo. Suddenly the seat unclamped. This time I didn't cry but just felt icy calm. I sat looking around waiting for the pickup. Hundreds of fighters streaked past my ship. The battle must be continuing as it frequently did. Sometimes it was a few minutes and then it would stop just as suddenly as it came.

I felt disturbed and uneasy. Though I did not know it at the time, the close proximity of a Louse had caused the program in his onboard computer to dose Sam with a different combination of mind-altering drugs this time.

I was hyper aware and tensed for battle, but not clamped in.

I could see flashes of fire in the distance as the battle continued to rage.

A slight movement off to my right caught my eye. A louse was calmly munching on another ship, trying to break into the cockpit I thought. I had never seen one live before. I kicked the manoeuvring thrusters to turn the cannon toward the Louse. It hadn't seen my ship moving. If I weren't careful I’d hit the other fighter. Somehow I had to knock the louse free with one shot and kill it with the other two.

The other ship was rolling a little. The terrified pilot was looking at me, knowing what had to be done. He was rolling the ship to present a better target. The first shot went off.

“OH GOD, I missed.”

The second glanced off; the third knocked the louse free but left it very much alive and dangerous. It spun out of control for just a moment and then began to move toward my own ship. I couldn't see what allowed it to move about though there seemed to be a bit of distortion around it as it moved.

Responding instinctively, I slammed the thrusters hard over hurling my ship into a sickening spin. Just as I was almost in the clutches of the Louse, the cannon spun around and hit it soundly in the body. It went motionless, stunned or dead, I could not tell. Still spinning, the computer kept selecting views of the situation until it found one of his ship and the Louse from the other ship. The other pilot moved in close as Sam stopped the wild spin.

Sam looked at his cabin pressure gauge. He was worried about a leak because of the impact of hitting the louse. It seemed to be holding.

They watched anxiously as the creature hung in front of them motionless. It became clear to Sam it was not dead. He could see what looked like the expanding and contracting of breathing. What was there out there to breathe? It didn't move however. It must be stunned.

I knew the others on the mother ship had watched this encounter and now knew as much as I did. My rescue would come as quickly as possible. I could not know it at the time but this one little action would be the beginning of the reversal for mankind. Command had been trying to capture a live louse and now a freak accident and providence had made it happen.

In my cabin, a tiny speaker squawked, “Hold still young Sam, I do think that you have bagged one of the buggers”. The voice sounded like an elderly man, but it sounded kind and calm. I really needed calm.

Sudden dimming in the light caused me to look for the cause. The mother ship was approaching at full thrust. As it came abeam of me it suddenly engaged reverse thrusts at an intensity that I had never witnessed. I was amazed and thankful, they'd hurried. They had used up a whole day's fuel in a very few minutes in a frenzied effort to imprison the louse before it regained consciousness. A specially designed carrier was moved out and the Louse was thrust into it. When they were very sure the Louse was secure, my ship was retrieved but not to the usual pod anchor but into a hangar.

As I climbed out of my slightly damaged ship, my arm brushed up against a little spine stuck in the side of the sheet metal gun cover. It produced a deep cut in my forearm. "Ouch, that hurt!" I cried out. One of the maintenance guys told me to get to the infirmary.

It took several butterfly bandages and some wound sealant to stop the bleeding. Later they found the quill was from the body of the Louse they'd captured. I developed a low fever from the cut. It became red and slightly swollen for a few days and then gradually got better. The Doctor was puzzled about it but they would not realize the significance of it for over 2 years and in a very startling way.

A frantic debriefing followed. In a room with a window on the Louse and its container, I could see them working to learn as much as they could as fast as possible. Through the bars, suddenly the Louse began to become indistinct until one of the scientists stunned it again with something I did not understand. Not being a technical person, I did not know that this one time when the louse had tried to use its primary propulsion in the view of the scientist's instrumentation had indirectly provided the information to save humanity.

Defying the laws of known Physics, the Lice used a method of transport that relied upon brain waves and was generally effortless. Once understood, this one incident would open up space to almost completely uninhibited exploration by both the Aliens and humans. Sure they'd still have to understand temporal variation, multi-dimensional shift, cosmic storms and so much more but the huge amount of mass previously thought necessary would no longer be needed. The difficulty would be in moving things along with the person.

In the future, the propulsion on a vessel would be a relatively large mass of living cybernetic “brain material” that could be taught or programmed to think in a certain way. This material was not made in great repulsive and environmentally damaging factories, but “grown in dark places like Mushrooms. The Aliens understood this very quickly and dozens of them, in space suits and in a matter of days used artificially made propulsion units to scout the origin of the Lice.

I didn’t understand what was going on, and was stunned by the frenetic activity on the ship. In my leisured, I was thinking of poetry. Then they sent me to the closest thing to a room I’d seen in months to get some rest. Eleanor was already there. She looked really frightened.

"Sam, what are you doing here?" She asked.

"I got lucky and stunned a Louse. They have it in a container studying it right now. They asked me all sorts of questions and then sent me down here to get some rest."

"They just pulled my ship into the hangar and then sent me up here." She said. "They didn't even say what the reason was."

Eleanor looked blue with cold and then I suddenly realized I was cold chilled from not having a coat.

I was really tired and stepped into the shower. Eleanor was suddenly beside me, washing my back. In a half-hour, both of us were sleeping soundly, naked for the first time in months. We had every blanket under the bed spread over us.

I wakened feeling as if I had a hangover and then remembered what we had been doing for the last weeks since the last action. I got up to get some water, relieve myself and got back into bed. It must have been another several hours when Eleanor's thumping around in the bath wakened me again.

I lay there relaxing as I watched her move about in there. She had just showered but not dressed yet. In spite of her near anorexia, her form was unmistakably that of a woman. Her hair was about the same length as mine. In this war there was no such thing as a feminine cut. Everyone had the same haircut, but mine and Eleanor’s had grown just slightly longer than a half inch.

We had wasted away until we weighed close to the same. Her breasts had all but disappeared from the near starvation diet. I found himself idly touching my own breasts. It was a pleasant sensation and they were a bit tender.

Again in need of relief, I got up and headed for the bathroom, intending to usher Eleanor out. As I stood besides her, waiting for her to acknowledge me, I was entirely taken aback at the fact that we looked almost the same in the mirror. She hadn't entirely lost her breasts and I had grown ones that were for all practical purposes just like hers. I'd developed aureoles, which were nearly like hers. The impression lasted only a second but it got me thinking in a muddled state. My sexual desire was much less than normal and I was thinking that it was due to the fatigue and all the stress. As I looked down between my own legs I was shocked to see that my junk had shrunk even more than before and now was much smaller than I remembered. And where had the little tufts of hair gone. I quickly stood and looked into the mirror. The soft matt of hairs on my chest were gone also!

Eleanor was over by the bed dressing in her now clean bra and skirt. Mine was laid out on the bed. My head was in a whirl. Was Eleanor looking at me strangely? Nearly hysterical, I sat down on the bed with my eyes full of tears. I’d been so full of drugs for months that my thinking still did not feel normal; like my old self. Little did I know at the time that I was not myself and would never be myself again. Changes in my body brought on by the Alien drugs used to help keep me alive and coping with the continuously unspeakable situation that we were all thrust into would run to a conclusion that had I fully understood, I may not have survived.

Eleanor came round the bed and seated herself next to me. "What's the matter, Sam?" She said. I could see the worry in her face or was it pity.

"My body, it's changing.” I felt so lost and bewildered.

"I have to see the Doctor." I felt so lost and empty, what was I going to do? I hoped that I was not dying. I wanted to marry Eleanor. “Eleanor, I was hoping to ask you to marry me if we survived and um if you were interested”.

“Oh Sam, that might be a long way off. I can’t think about that right now, or I will crumble and not be able to do this”.

She looked as though she could cry at any moment. I had arrived for his first tour of combat almost 14 weeks ago. In another 2 weeks they'd move to the rear for yet another rest and some other carrier would take their place.

“Sammy, I’ll go with you to see the Doctor. We’ll see what is wrong.”

Eleanor was out on her third tour. She'd seen so many pilots die she could no longer count them. She no longer became close to the others, but she did her best to meet her own needs and to help anyone she could. Some of the other pilots had become aloof and withdrawn. Eleanor wasn't like that. She knew that Sam was smitten with her, and if she allowed herself to think about after the war, Sam was a definite possibility for a Husband.

"Sam, I think that is the reason God put me here with you. Sure you're here to debrief on the louse but I'm here to help you cope with the changes in your body that you would not have noticed until we rotated out for a rest."

I looked over at Eleanor with tears in my eyes. This whole invasion and attack by the Lice, the arrival of the Aliens felt like too much change and made me feel crazy, yet I knew that every other human alive had some of the same feelings. I wondered what would become of us all.

"This is going to be bad isn't it?" My face was so screwed up that Eleanor began to laugh.

"This is no laughing matter and you know it." I said.

I also knew that people under as much stress as they were, laughed at the strangest things; things that under normal circumstances would be socially inappropriate. As I finished, my voice cracked like an adolescent. I was clearly losing my composure.

. "Oh no, my voice, it's changing too!"

"Sam, they had no idea that this would happen when we left Earth. As a matter of fact it didn't until they began using that chemical which prevents your heart from starting again after a battle. Not many know it but the heart takes such a beating during battle that they started stopping it for a minute afterward to allow the toxins which cause you to die to oxidize in the blood stream. It takes only a minute but that simple procedure keeps you alive." She said. "It's sort of like letting the fizz go out of pop." She said. She was obviously trying to add some humor to the situation.

So, Sam, I am sorry to be the one to have to tell you, but in about 15% of the male pilots, there is a reversal of gender. We talked for quite a while, long enough for the other fighters to be sent out three more times. Both Eleanor and I felt guilty about it, but I knew that I could not fight right now and Eleanor confirmed it.
“Sammy, I am not allowing you out of my sight right now. I talked with the Lt on duty and he feels that you did something special in capturing that Louse and he wants me to take care of you.”

“Both of us cried, Eleanor in sympathy for me, and I cried, well I didn’t know why, but I wept and did it a lot to help me calm down.”

“They turned me into a woman. Thanks a lot. They've ruined my life, Eleanor. What am I going to do? What will my parents think? What will my friends think?" I couldn’t take it and again I began to weep noisily.

"Sam don't go jumping to conclusions. The Doctor told me that in about 20% of the cases men revert back to their old gender once they stop taking the drugs. Some are sterile and some seem to be normal. We haven't seen what the children develop into yet."

I cried off and on for the rest of the afternoon and then having become fully cried out, simply went to bed.

The next morning, the doorbell wakened me. Eleanor had gone out to the Cafeteria and gotten locked out. "Well, sleepy head, do you feel any better today?" She said cheerily.

"I guess so. A little better I think." He said. He sounded weak and vulnerable. "Eleanor, will you stay with me and help me with all this?"

"Sam, I'll stay as long as you want me and they let me."

That wasn't really much of a commitment but that is all she could offer.

Eleanor coaxed me to get up and to go to the cafeteria to eat with her. Then we made a visit to sick bay. The Doctor there, while he seemed rushed, actually sat down with Sam and Eleanor and went over some of the options with him. In short, the number one priority was that they keep fighting the Lice.

The Doctor remarked that the captured louse, their first one, had yielded some startling revelations and that the forces could make some really valuable changes to their equipment. He also thought that a better FTL drive could come out of all this too. The scientists working on the Louse had confirmed the FTL drive it had wasn't a drive at all. It was a matter of brain waves in the radically different, alien physiology. It was all too simple. Could all this be true? Once again Occam’s razor seemed to be true or in this case a variation of it. We didn’t need huge generators and coils.

I agreed to return to with my ship with Eleanor and finish out my cycle. The Doctor had promised to help me much more during the rest cycle.

11 weeks later, the Louse problem was greatly reduced and a much smaller force was having astounding results with weapons modified as a result of Sam’s capture of that one Louse.

As it turned out, the test in sick bay was an easy test but one which provided me with heart-breaking news. I would not revert to a male. And, I would probably develop into a fully functioning female. So, in a sense I would be totally normal.

I felt lost and dismayed. Eleanor had also survived the cycle and was sticking by me faithfully. Actually she'd gotten a broken arm in a collision with a piece of asteroid but it was mending nicely.

“But Eleanor, I wanted to marry you and have a family together! I don’t know what to do now!” I lay on my bed and sobbed, went to sleep sobbing and woke up wet with tears. They offered me drugs to calm me down.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage with drugs by now?” I screamed at the Psychiatrist.

I got up and left his office crying only to confront two very tough looking corps men. “It’s best if you come with us Sam.”
My days at the Doj suddenly came back and they were both laying on the floor before I even knew what was happening. Then I rounded on the Shrink.
“You son of a bitch, you were going to haul me off and abuse me some more.” I advanced on him only to find his side arm pointing at me.
“You puny little coward! Shoot me now or I’m going to stick that thing where the sun don’t shine”. I started to move, but Eleanor grabbed me.
“Sammy, he is not worth it. Come with me now and we’ll go speak with the Chaplain”.
I was ready to kill the man, but Eleanor’s care for me made all my anger crumble and I realised that punishing the idiot would just ruin my own life worse than it already had. He was a target because he was there when I now knew that the drugs that kept me alive in my combat rotation were the ones that caused my transformation.
“She just saved your life! Next time learn how to use that thing. The safety is still on.” The last was an anguished sob. Eleanor got me back to our cabin and then called for the Chaplain. Oddly, it did not take long and thank God, he got there just before the Marines. The Chaplain exchanged a muffled word or two with them and they left.
He introduced himself as Chaplain Mercer. As we talked he seemed surprised at Eleanor’s call.
“When the attack by the Lice happened and then the Aliens showed up, many people felt that it discredited all of religion. Those left are truly the faithful.”
“Well my older brother spent two years out on the Mission field before the lice attacked. He’d only been back for a few months and then shipped out to fight the Lice. He died very early in the fighting, before all the drugs were developed”
“Both Eleanor and the Chaplain expressed sympathy for the fact that I’d lost my brother so soon. Over the next few hours, as we all talked, they convinced me that it was not the end of the world even if it felt like it for me.”

One of the things they normally did on the rest cycle was to go on leave on one of the Alien planet ships or to a nearby class M planet. This time no planet was available so they did leave on one of the larger Alien planet ships which had been shadowing them. It was nearly the size of Earth's moon.

“I was fast becoming a female and a beautiful one to boot. Eleanor had done a lot to teach me about my new role. The Alien planet ship carried many humans on it. It was well stocked with human amenities. Eleanor knew she would find enough clothing to get me, Samantha a start in my new role.”

The original orders called for their group to stand down for 30 days. Me, Eleanor and the rest of their group, 34 of the original 50 pilots in all had a chance to rest, sleeping all night, most nights. The brass still did not allow us to gain much weight since Headquarters did not know when we would be called back into action for sure, insinuating that our leave could be cut short at any time.

Still each of the women gained enough weight for some to start mensing and develop, or redevelop breasts. Eleanor also helped Samantha with the purchase of clothing, makeup and hygiene items. About half way through the month, all the women were a bit cranky. It was easy to see who the "new" women were because they acted like they had invented cramps.
“Go way leave me alone”.
“Sammy, this happens to all of us and sometimes the first one is really hard, baby”.
“Eli, my tummy hurts so much and I’m sick and food tastes awful and that pad is so yukky”.
“I know baby, but they were out of the tampons. I’m sorry”.
Eleanor loved me and crawled in beside me to cuddle and comfort me. It helped so much, and I wondered what I would do if she were not there. The Psych people had figured out that providing a companion to us new women greatly decreased the suicide rate. That should have been really obvious but in the heat of battle operations it had not occurred to anyone.

It was a surprise to Eleanor that they'd all been allowed to gain enough weight for them to start again. She didn't realize that their stand down could perhaps be much longer than originally thought. There had been developments in the war that could change a great deal.

The new weapons were making it practical to simply use mostly carrier based cannon to kill the Lice and in a few weeks the fighters were mostly unnecessary, except for planetary patrol. The new power plants were small enough to be put on fighters and lots of them were converted to other jobs.
The carriers were detecting the Lice as soon as they began to appear, and were able to create what resembled black holes in their midst, destroying them with almost no loss of life.

Eleanor knew Samantha would do OK when one day they were eating lunch at one of the little restaurants off the dining area of the Alien ship. A group of soldiers walked past. Samantha stopped in mid bite of her salad and said, "Isn't he a hunk?" It seemed to take a moment for it to register with the both of them when Eleanor began to giggle.

"What are you laughing about?"

"Oh, nothing, I think you are going to do just fine." Eleanor said. In a minute I began to flush. Then a single tear formed in one of my eyes.

"Well, I do have a life to live." I didn't sound angry or resentful. It was simply a statement. I’d finally realised that out of my family I had been the lucky one. My Brother, Colin and I would not meet again until the Celestial Kingdom.
“Eleanor, promise me that we’ll always be friends and live close together? I mean really promise me? I don’t know what I would do if I lost track of you.”
“Sammy, you and I are like sisters. We’ve been through so much, don’t you worry. I was talking with some of the fresh pilots that just arrived. The gossip is that the war will be over really soon. They say that Earth seems so empty now. The estimated population is down to around 2 billion, which is ¼ of what it was. There are vacant houses everywhere. They are shutting down a lot of the power plants and other infrastructure because there is no need for them and no one to run them.
One of the women told me that all the street lights are off at night and there is just no one around to commit crime. Those that did were sent to battle, so everyone left is on their best behaviour. She says that farmers are crying for help, but that much of the economy is on a trade basis now. Rumour has it that the Aliens are distributing new technology that will make much of our present industry simply unnessessary.”
“I know Eleanor, I was talking with one of the Aliens that was eating breakfast this morning and they seem very happy to have found humans. They have fought the Lice for nearly 3000 years, and much of their civilisation and many others have been destroyed. He or she said, I can’t tell them apart, that they are going to give Earth a lot of help to get us stable again. They’ve already been to Earth and removed all Atomic weapons and the equipment to make them.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a coming out party of sorts. The Aliens and the Brass wanted to thank the pilots for their sacrifice in a way that would underscore their unconditional acceptance. They knew that the recognition would help them to heal in a small way from the entire trauma. It would also possibly help the ones most affected adjust to their new roles. Samantha had no idea that one of the "new woman" pilots upon returning to earth had been murdered because some red neck thought of her as a faggot. There had been other less severe incidents so the leaders knew they must do something to put a stop to this activity.
Sam, Eleanor and what was left of the group on her carrier had returned to Earth a few weeks ago. The change was so astonishing. The freeways were almost vacant, and the police patrolled only for motorists in distress. There were vacant cars everywhere so the two chose a new Toyota right off the lot and started traveling around. They started in Portland, where Eleanor’s family used to live, but both of them were still in space crewing one of the huge supply ships.

In a most astounding turn of events, the President came on National, (now world TV) (pun intended), wearing the same outfit which Samantha and Eleanor had worn in combat. He gave a moving speech and finished by saying all humans should accept the newly female pilots as one of their own.

Within days, huge numbers of men and women began sporting the same outfit as a gesture of support for those who'd made the ultimate sacrifice for mankind. Fortunately it was June and not too chilly for those who lived in the Northern Hemisphere. Those in the south wore capes or coats or whatever they had.

Samantha of course knew nothing of this chain of events. She knew only that she was going to appear for the first time in the general public wearing a dress. It was not to be simply a little skirt but a full, floor length skirt and strapless top with a little bolero jacket. It was to become the formal version of a Space Pilot's uniform definitely not intended for use while on duty. Samantha felt as if the attention showered on her took away from the recognition all the other pilots should get. Eleanor explained to her that after release from duty, many of the male and genetic female pilots could return to their normal lives while Samantha and those like her could not. Feeling very self-conscious, Samantha finally agreed to attend and behave herself. Otherwise, Eleanor jokingly told her she could attend bound and gagged. Samantha sounded really insulted and huffed her way to the door like a four-year-old but she behaved.

Samantha had clung to Eleanor like a child the last weeks and sat next to her at the banquet. But after the dinner when the dancing started, Eleanor was quickly asked to dance. Samantha felt nervous and left out. She was starting to think she should not have come. She was just starting to stand up to leave when a voice said, "Would you like to dance?"

Samantha not expecting anyone to talk to her, jumped back startled but when she looked for the source of the question, she gasped with delight. It was that same young ensign who she'd admired in the mall when she was with Eleanor. She remembered Eleanor's instructions about holding the gown up with one hand. It was so long that she'd have tripped almost immediately. He put his hand out to lead her to the floor, something she was not accustomed to. Samantha had not expected the sensation when she placed her hand in his and she almost swooned when he gripped it gently. She felt herself blushing fiercely as he led her out there. Her lips were throbbing and looking down her breasts was making themselves known in a very assertive way. She acquiesced meekly when he began to draw her body in close to his. It was one way to hide her throbbing nipples. Samantha wished she had worn something thicker to hide her embarrassing predicament.

Looking into her face, he told her that she looked really nice tonight. Surprised, Samantha looked into his deep blue eyes. When he talked to her, she felt unable to look away. He talked to her for what seemed like hours while they danced. Once in a while they would stop to rest.

Nervous, Samantha greedily accepted any wine offered to her.
They talked about everything in the world; did he like children; what did he want to do when the war was over; and so many other things. In two hours, Samantha felt like she’d known John all her life.
None of them noticed a slight aftertaste in the wine the Aliens had provided. None of them would ever suspect. With the critical imbalance in the male/ female ratio in the human race, the Aliens knew they needed a little help.
He took me out onto the viewing deck set in the side of Hotel in Salt Lake City. With almost no street lighting, the heavens were beautiful; the edge of the Milky Way marched slowly across the night sky as if it were calling this man, John, and I together. My heart was pounding. My whole body was betraying me. I knew I mustn't but helplessly knew if he kissed me, I could not stop him. Besides I felt attracted to him like no other time in my life! Distracted for a moment, I thought of the battles and the many times I'd not known if I would survive. The remembrance of it made me shiver for a moment. It felt so strange I thought, when I was still in High School, I felt strongly attracted to girls and would go as far with one as she would allow. Now I was the pursued. As Sam I had the power of attack but as Samantha I had the power of resistance that felt all too feeble. This was a strange yet delicious feeling.

She felt him drawing her close to him, turning her like a little doll. She could not breathe and felt her very loins crying out for him to take her and possess her. What was going on? She had never experienced anything like this before. It was overwhelming her.

As he bent to face her, he began to pull her face toward him. Samantha tried to speak but her voice would not work. A little squeak was all that came out. She felt his lips touch hers and suddenly she gave in. What an experience, Samantha was not sure she could live.

When he finished, she was hanging from his arm. What! He'd stopped! “Sir, you aren’t stopping now!” She thought! She found herself attacking him like a lioness. She shamelessly threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself up until her feet were a foot off the floor. By this time he'd gotten back into the act and was smashing her breasts against his chest.

It was a much-disheveled couple, which walked back onto the dance floor a few minutes later. Some of the couples were giggling quietly when they saw them. They were one of the last few couples to leave the hall that night.

When Samantha wakened in the morning, she could not remember a thing. She'd had so much Champaign that she'd blacked out. She was completely naked though. Her clothes were all over the apartment. Well, she though, at least I'm in the right room. She looked around for him but she was alone. Sadly she reflected as she tried to sit up. Her head was throbbing. A knock at the door and then it opened suddenly. Eleanor's beaming face popped through the crack.

"Hi there, sleepy head", She said.

Her voice sounded truly happy for the first time since she'd met Samantha. "You were really a hand full to put to bed last night. I finally had to send John home. He was a bit crocked too." She said. She sounded really amused.

"You mean John didn't sleep here last night?" I was shocked. "I don't know if I should be happy he spared my virginity or sad that he didn't find me appealing?"

"No, dear, he found you very appealing. He is absolutely smitten with you. And now that we all have a future, we will all see where this leads." Eleanor said. Her voice sounded cheery and mysterious.

"What do you mean, have a future." Samantha demanded.

"Samantha, you haven't heard, have you? Well, you couldn’t you were still sleeping off the effects of drunken debauchery. It seems that group which was pulled out a when we were still in our combat cycle, used the new FTL gadget the scientists built to run a group right up the Lice's tail pipe. The only trouble is when they got there; all they found was this giant stockpile of all kinds of metals orbiting around a Sun. It forms a multi-coloured ring around the Sun there. It seems that the original race died out from some mysterious plague. All that was left was their crop of automatic biological robots that'd been wrecking the Galaxy for almost 3000 years. There was a control centre on one of the planets inside the ring. They were supposed to go out, get metal and return it to home. That is exactly what they kept on doing even after their builders were dead." She finished.

"You mean John really likes me?" Samantha said. She sounded worried.

Eleanor looked at Samantha for a moment. "I guess you are a woman now." She said. "He's absolutely bonkers over you, silly goose!" She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm and mirth.

I had not realized that the really nice boys who really like you don't screw you the first time they meet you. Here I was an adult young lady with no experience at all.

“OMG, what am I going to do Eli, I have never dated, and don’t know a single thing about boys?”

“Well, duh, but you were one, so you have some idea how they think at least!”

“I’m afraid Eli, what am I going to do?”

“Well, I danced with a dozen guys but none of them did a thing for me. There were just too many other women there and it felt like I was part of a pack of wolves.”

“Gosh, I didn’t notice that, and no one bothered us.”

“Well, silly, I don’t know if you realised it but you were the prettiest girl there, even including me, you silly cow!”

“Eli, what will happen if I have made a mistake and he doesn’t love me?”

Later that year, I became Mrs Samantha Greene. Eleanor was maid of honor. To honour us, all the rest of the brides' maids were new women.

During the war, the population of Earth had sagged to 1.6 billion, nearly mid 1800 levels. About ¾ of the dead were men due to two factors, one being that men in this combat situation were less survivable, and lots of men returned as women. It now meant that ¾ of the marriageable people were women.

It was tacitly decided that consenting women could share a man in Marriage, but no more than 3 women per man. There were lengthy rules to meet to protect the women. For example, no 14 year old girls marrying 50 year old guys. Abuse of women was rendered even less likely because most of these women had been in combat and would brook no nonsense from some old pervert.

Muslims readily adapted to the idea of multiple wives and eventually it spread throughout the world. Though, it was later agreed that the population of the Earth would not be allowed to exceed 3 billion souls. The Aliens shared so much knowledge with humans, and now it was clearly seen that overpopulation and pollution would eventually leave Earth as an uninhabitable ball of mud.

Amazingly, cases of PTSD were rare and minor because the drugs used in combat caused the pilots to not remember most of their experiences. The Aliens were a “great help” in the debriefing of the combatants. Some asserted that the Aliens were manipulating the human race, and in the view of many, it was high time that mankind abandon our aggressive and war like ways. The Aliens freely shared their knowledge and in time, most scientists and doctors knew the details. The children born after the war were genetically different from their parents, and were much less aggressive, and prone to violence. Our children were also much more compassionate and loving. They were not fearful of other races or beings, since they would grow up with all races on earth mixing freely and Alien races that could manage Earth’s atmosphere and gravity conditions came for frequent visits. They also extended open invitations to humans to visit them.

Remember that nasty cut Sam got off the spine from the Louse? When Samantha's first little girl became about 3, she suddenly began moving herself from one place to another by some sort of levitation. Later Samantha learned to follow her. In time the doctors would learn how to give every human the virus from the Lice which made that possible. Until then, humans had relied on crude little bio electronic devices. In several years, most roads became overgrown with weeds. In fact, the asphalt pavement was seen to be fouling the water ways and farm land, so it was not uncommon to come upon machinery chomping up roads, separating the components, depositing the gravel in one place and injecting the petroleum back into the bowels of the earth where it should have remained in the first place.

The Transgendered used to go through great torment and often spent their life savings trying to get their bodies to match what their brains told them. Now all that was usually resolved in early childhood through the use of some simple drugs developed in the first space war.

Also gone was the stigma of one set of clothing for men and another for women. In this post war society, one could wear whatever they chose. Samantha and John came to the mutual agreement that he would wear the pants and she would wear no pants, ever. Other women did whatever they wanted to.
“John, I just feel like I have been through so much battle and seen so much carnage that now that the war is over, I want to just want to immerse myself in something else entirely. With this new body, I want to raise babies, cook your meals, and keep you happy. It would seem pointless to go through the trouble of becoming a woman to go on doing men things. I wasn’t interested much in them as a youth, and I am most certainly not at all now.”

“Eleanor, you live next door to us, in the shadow of the Wallowa Mountains. Have you ever thought of marriage?”

“In other circumstances I would, but I want to live near you, and a husband might drag me off to the other side of the world. We’ve been through so much that it is like we are part of each other. We were lovers and shared our deepest feelings and hardships. I still love you in your new state, though physically you are not as attractive as you once were.”

“Eli, John and I have been talking and we don’t want to lose you. There is talk of forcing women to carry babies to help the population recover.’

“I know and it worries me. I am a woman, not some herd animal.”

“Well, as I said, John and I were talking and we were wondering if we could all um join?”

“You mean polygamy? I mean that is OK for others but I don’t want to spoil our love with the tension of sharing a husband. Remember Samantha, you and I used to sleep together and make love when we did not know if we would live, even for the next hour”.

Later, at dinner, Eli was strangely absent, and did not return to her home to sleep. This was not like her, and it worried me. John had seen how close Eleanor and I had become, and much to my surprise, he had been searching for a way to include her in our lives forever.

“John, I am worried about Eleanor. She wasn’t in last night and I have not seen her today.”

“Samantha, I have been thinking a lot about Eleanor and you. I have some regard for her. Why don’t you stay here with Annie, and I will try to find her?”

“Mommy, Daddy, I know where Aunty Eli is.”

“You do darling? How do you know that?” I was puzzled.

“I just know. She is up the creek by the big water falls.”

I looked at John with a questioning expression, and his was the same. We had no idea how our daughter was doing this, but we knew not to discard what she said.

“Sammy, please stay here, I want to search for her because I should be the one to find her. Am I to assume that this marriage between us is to put her on an equal footing as you? Is she to be as valued as you and Annie? She needs to feel that she is as valued as any of the rest of us. Before all this transformation happened to you, she had given her heart to you, and now she is confused. She wanted to marry a man and look at you now. Sure, you think that you are the same person, but we both know that you are changed and in many ways think so differently than you did before. How could any of us get through the war and not be changed at least somewhat”

John continued, “Samantha, I was fortunate because I only went through one rotation and the first week of another before they pulled us out and returned us to Earth. If I had known you before, I do not know if we would be married now. And over the months I have gathered that you and Eleanor were lovers, and though you have changed, her love for you did not. In our present circumstances, with the male population being so reduced, she has given up on ever finding a husband. She is strong, sturdy and pleasing to the eye, but certainly not the beauty that you are.”

I started to protest but the look on his face told me something, so I relented and stayed home with Annie. So far it had mostly been Eli and I talking about her becoming a sister wife with me, but we had not involved John much at all. He heard our conversations and sometimes made short comments, but perhaps to her he did not really want her. Suddenly, I understood. Perhaps Eleanor wanted to be courted a little. Perhaps she felt insecure, and wanted John to express at least some love for her. John knew how close Eli and I were and perhaps felt they both felt somewhat left out. We all knew that the new male gene arrangement had made men generally less aggressive, but it also made them more loving and even possessive. There were good days ahead for humanity.

“Ok Johnny, I’ll stay here and let you go court her.” I smiled knowingly at him.

His meaningful grin told me more than a whole book could.

It was far into the next day when John and Eleanor appeared at the door to our home. I could tell from John’s smile and the rosy glow of Eleanor’s cheeks that she’d gotten the assurances from John that she wanted. She wasn’t walking any differently, so I was fairly sure that her virtue remained intact. It wasn’t about religion, or God or anything it was about self-respect.

“Eleanor, John, I have been so concerned for both of you.

“Sure Sammy but if I am going to be living here, I want to help you in the kitchen.”

“I hadn’t been going to ask until they were ready to talk about it, but when I felt John pull us all together in a three way hug, I had my answer.”

“Oh, goody, my mommies and daddy are all here together. Eli, are you finally going to live with us?”

“Annie darling, would you like that?” Eleanor asked.

“My little four year old daughter smiled sweetly and purposefully nodded her head up and down.”

In post war Earth, we had not gotten around to sorting the concept of God out. None of the evangelical dispensationalisim had turned out to be true. So, it remained for each of us to sort out our own feelings. John had been a Mormon from the south of Utah, I had been an evangelical that converted to Islam, and Eleanor had not given much thought to the whole God bit.
There were family traditions that John was used to so Eleanor and I decided to follow his lead unless we had reservations.

Life was very good now. Though there had been a rumour that the Aliens were recruiting for an action on the other side of the Galaxy.

The end

Alien Investigators

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Historical

Character Age:

Toddler

TG Themes:

Other Keywords:

Toddler to old age.

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Alien Investigators

By Gwen Brown

What happens when two young alien soldiers use a damaged star gate to escape the enemy? They wind up in another part of the Galaxy, in human bodies, and have to grow up all over again. NO SEX or Molestation. Sweet, innocent story. Please, if you feel something needs correcting, ask me first. I write this way with purpose.

Universal Galactic Date: 14011.5

BOOM ! Crash! The sound of falling debris and the screaming of the wounded was deafening in my abused auditory canals.

“Oh by the eggs of zennah that was close Tran, we gotta get our egg sacks out of here. The enemy have broken through and they are gonna eat us.”

“Go on Ohman, I’m not gonna make it. I’m hit and can already feel my life force departing.”

I looked down at my life long buddy Tran, and observed his wound. It was a superficial burn of his brain case. This was typical of my buddy; he was so dramatic, and weak. That’s why I’d had to kick his rear all over the galaxy just to keep the fool alive. We thought that our colony had finally found a safe sector to live and prosper, away from the relentless naked skinned bipeds. They seem to have tracked us down, again.

“Geez, Tran, I think that in spite of your wound, you’re going to be just fine, I promise.”

“Are you sure Ohman, I feel so weak.”
“I… I promise Tran, I will help you and protect you, but you have to do your part little buddy.” That in spite of the fact that Tran was twice my size and had mature, menacing, horns!

I’d have to resort to shameless manipulation to get him moving because the enemy were almost on us.

“But Tran…Tran, I am so frightened, and if you do not protect me the enemy will have their way with me, causing me great shame and the loss of virtue! Oh, Tran what am I going to do, you have to protect me!” I wailed in my most piteous emitance; making my flangies quiver in a way that I knew would draw his sympathy.

“They what, now they have gone and done it, by maliciously frightening you Ohman!” Get back Ohman, I’ll handle this!”

Tran pulled himself off the ground and to his full height, puffing himself up to several times his normal girth. “Mrooooorrrrr!”, his battle cry was so frightening and shocking. It made my lung cavity swell with pride and joy! My hero was going to protect me and that made me feel so…so um reproductive! He was so handsome with his ear flaps fully unfurled and his air sacks fully inflated. By comparison, my own aggressive displays were much less magnificent; almost embarrassing.

I loved it when he did this for me! It was so romantic and made me feel so valued and protected. Sigh!

The enemy bearing down on us were completely taken aback; some of them even fell over backward. There were seconds in which an uneasy silence prevailed.

Tran and I stood there side by side, amazed that the enemy had been so startled as to stop completely. It was as if they were stunned.

“Ohman, Tran whispered quietly, “I think we should flee while there is yet time.”
“I do too.”

With that, both of us turned and started running as fast as our appendages would motivate us, I was slower than Tran and as he passed me, he scooped me up in his huge musculature. “Oh, thank you for saving me Tran”, I murmured softly. Swelled by pride, Tran ran faster.

We ran back toward the landing zone in spite of knowing that the troop carriers had already left; leaving behind most of the equipment needed to start a new colony. The enemy were slower, so our flight before them gained us some time, but we knew we would not have long.

Running into the compound, we could see no weapons of strength to eliminate the hundreds of bipeds after us. Breathing hard and looking around, all we could see was the supply motivator, but it had not been set or calibrated completely. I began to look at the controls, thinking about the reciprocal of those settings used to get us here. The sound of the enemy was getting louder, and I felt on the verge of actually having the motivator set correctly.

Suddenly there was a biped near the machine and he was holding a weapon on us. He began moving the settings after he made me step back. “Look, sorry you two, but I am a deserter from the army, and if they get their hands on me there will be much turmoil, so I’m using this to take me back to the world of our origin, if it will do it. Otherwise, this machine, and all of us will be blown apart into our most elemental particles. Humanity left the home world a long time ago and I can’t stand what we have become; the number one war makers of the known galaxy. There are tales that after we left, the world civilisation collapsed and I am hoping that they have rebuilt. If not, living the simple life is fine compared to this.

“But you can’t just leave us, your um friends will make it quite insufferable for us when they get here.”

“Look those war mongers are not my friends. OK, well, I’m jumping down that worm hole when it comes. You can follow or stay here to meet the military, your choice, really.”

“But it is not calibrated for us!” I squealed, again using my most piteous and forlorn voice. You have set it for humanoid biped and if you look at us, we are anything but a ghastly humanoid. Who knows what a trip on those settings will do to us?

“Look sweet cakes, I know you must be a real beauty to someone, but not me, so that seductive tone just won’t do it to me.”

He reached over and pulled the restraining pin out of the power setting; moving the lever as far as it would go; many times its design parameters. Immediately the machine began to groan and make other self-destructive noises.

“OK, within seconds after I step through that gate, this machine is going to make a huge crater, or worse, so they can’t follow me, and it will kill large numbers of them. I was never in favour of our human predator tactics. I hate them. Come or stay as you wish.”

He dove through the gate as a blue haze from overheated links and super ionized air began to obscure the gate. Just as he stepped into the gate, I could see that he was leaving a red coloured trail of his body fluid from a wound in his side. He was contaminating our path! I wonder what that would do to us?

I looked at Tran and back at the biped army. One look was enough for me. His face conveyed that he was of the same mind as I, so he picked me up and ran through the gate behind the fleeing biped.

Seconds later, I felt a thump and a ball of fire began to pursue us through also.

An observer in that solar system would have first seen a temporal distortion and then one of the planets went off like a supernova, thus wiping out all life in that system, including millions of colonial humanoids.

Late August 2011, about 3:00 PM MST.

I felt an impact and then the blackness came. When I wakened, Tran was still enfolding me in his appendages, though I could not see him. It seemed as if brightness surrounded us, but I could see nothing. I lay there for a time, too stunned to do anything. Soon, it was evident that our bodies were not the same. I could feel only four appendages! Eventually, I realised that the blindness was happening because there was a moveable membrane occluding my visual organs. I tried to call out to Tran but the only sound I could make was “Da, goo goo, screech”. This was humorous to me and I found myself emitting an effusively emotive noise that I would later find out was a “giggle”. I finally managed to move the membrane over my “eyes”, and found that Tran and I were in a place where their sun shined brightly overhead, and there were many kinds of vegetation, though none of it looked edible. I tried to call out to Tran again and made the previous “google da da giggle” noises. Good heavens, this was not suitable for communication. After a period of time, I managed to move my “head” and look at Tran. I was shocked to see that the Motivator had made us into bipeds! Oh, the shame of it, how will we bear this great burden? He appeared to be sleeping. Sleeping, this was no time for sleeping! I let out another scream, but this time it felt more like distress or even anguish!

The area around me smelled like burning flesh, and vegetation, so I surmised that the flame had followed us the thousands of light years we had travelled, but it wasn’t really that far because the machine had warped space, so who really has any idea how far it was?

Where was that biped that preceded us through the gate? We would not know for many years.

I heard a loud noise and the pounding of feet. A large hairy quadruped came running at us making the most grievous, grating sounds. I would later learn that these things were “dogs”. This dog, had a wet, slimy appendage that he began to mop my face and body with. He started doing the same to Tran and it wakened my pod mate, making Tran emit the most wretched screams. That seemed to make the dog reticent to touch us and I could see him lay down a short distance from us, though he continued to watch us.

His barking and Tran’s screams seemed to attract the attention of numbers of bipeds not much larger than us. Their giggling and loud noise making attracted the attention of first one and then several much larger bipeds. They pick us up, separating us, and both Tran and I start feeling great distress and for the first time I can see his body, and I assume Tran mine. Gah, I am now one of the enemy!

September 2011

Time has passed since we were discovered laying upon the lawn of a biped dwelling. At first both Tran and I were quite tense, but they seemed to be loving and kind despite their loathsome appearance. We will try to abandon our prejudice against these deplorable creatures. There was another, biped, the largest of the group with a booming voice, who really frightened us, but in time we learned that as long as everyone obeyed this one, he was relatively kind, and not threatening.

Tran and I had not yet gained command of our strange, new bodies, but his presence near me was of comfort and in time they realised that Tran and I shared a bond. My speech centres were beginning to sift through their various noises and in time, we could understand the rudiments of their speech. Tran and I still shared an empathetic bond that felt quite reassuring. As time went on the “human’s” as the bipeds called themselves, seemed to sense that Tran and I shared a very close connection, and stopped separating us so much. It took them little time at all to give us names that were suitable to them. Tran became Joseph and I became Elizabeth; though in private we still used our real names. From listening to their conversations, they think we are about one of their years old. Hah, if they only knew!

Though they knew not from whence we came, they seemed to feel that we were “sent” to them. The large Male, and the group’s Bishop talked and we were taken to a place with strange smells, with busy, officious people, who examined us, and even poked us painfully, making me cry in anguish. Even then, Tran reached for me as if to comfort me and because we were both so stricken with anguish, they allowed us to touch and remain close to each other.

We would later understand this place to be a “Doctor’s” office, and the pain that was so awful to us was a “blood test”, though in my previous experience nothing so invasive was ever done.

June 2013

I now know that almost two of their years have passed, and Anne says that we are precocious in our development. Anne seems to have adopted us as her babies because she had none. She seems to have an issue with her reproductive organs and when I learn better control of this body I occupy, perhaps I shall repair her. Tran and I talk quietly in whispers, but use a limited vocabulary with the bipeds. They would not understand at all.
I learned the consequence of voiding excess fluid through my panties. One of Anne’s sister wives hit me on my wet bottom and scolded me in irritated tones about it. She eventually took me to the bathroom and showed me a potty seat to sit on if I needed to void excess fluid again. The females, as they call themselves, seemed to share great joy and astonishment when it took just one correction to teach me, or “potty break me”, as they are fond of saying. I found the walk in there quite easy, and often Tran would follow me, so we could help each other in that activity. The adults have no idea that we understand them so well. When we feel it is safe, we will inform them that we need to be about our business.

May 2014

Another of their years has passed. When Tran and I informed Anne, and later the other bipeds, that we needed to be about our business, it caused laughter and eventually a great uproar in which Margaret, number one wife, and eventually Brother Steven’s lectured us on being obedient, and respectful to those who care for us. This whole ordeal caused Anne to weep a great deal, so we promised first Brother Stevens that we would be respectful and that we had no intention of ever causing anyone emotional pain. “I am so sorry, Brother Stevens”. We had to repeat the same to Sister Margaret, Mummy Anne and finally the entire gathered assembly of the house, some 37 bipeds in number.

January, 2015

We are said to be 4 years old by Mummy Anne, and she has been a great help to us, now that we understand that by being extremely respectful and solicitous to the adult bipeds we are able to endear ourselves to them. Mummy has begun to help us gain access to the many books in their library. Most deal with their idea of a deity, and they are extremely committed to it and him. Tran has tried to access their primitive computer, but got a stern scolding and spanking for it. A way must be found to do it.

In pursuing another tack, Tran asked Mummy for access to the piano, but learned very quickly not to pound the keys, and let Mummy teach him to read the notes. He had to be patient with Mummy because she loved and was kind to us, but in a week’s time he could play as well as one with such tiny hands could. The notes were intuitive but the various chords and key combinations were not manageable due to the lack of size of his hands. The adults made a great deal of fuss about Tran’s ability to play, but they would not yield on their refusal to allow us to get on their computer; saying that such activity is for mature adults only, and we gradually realised that meant the Man and wife number one.

With much astonishment, in the tub one day, we realised that Tran’s organs were different than mine. Where he had what they call a penis, I had only a small slit. It was the first time I knew I was no longer like Tran. When we asked mummy about it, she explained that Joseph was male and I was female. We no longer took baths together.

Surreptitiously, Tran and I agreed to watch the adults while the other one managed to get on their computer to do research. I was caught on the keyboard while Tran watched and they began to lock the keyboard up in a drawer. We were both spanked and made to ask their deity for forgiveness for our wrong doing. We knew that the lack of that information device would cause us great delay. At home, we simply attached to the information in the air with our brains, but in this new body, our capabilities seemed degraded significantly.

August, 2017

Tran and I are now 6 years old, according to the adults. Anne and first wife think that we are too smart to home school, since we already know everything in all their books, including the things in their religious books. Both of us can recite at will, any verse they ask us. There was a great deal of consternation when we attempted to explain travel through temporal rifts to them, so we learned not to attempt that. The Bishop says that we are child prodigies and need the best education that we can be given. The church will assist. After a heated meeting with the Bishop, Brother Stevens, Mummy and Anne, Tran and I will attend a special school at a big city in the North by a huge lake filled with salt. Later we would find that we were to move to a place of habitation called Provo. Mummy and we were being driven by one of the Sister wives Anne’s mother, and as we left, I could see a huge smile on the face of first wife. At a deeper level, I understood that we were being driven out.

Mummy Anne is given housing for her and us at the University in Provo. She and we are told to not talk of our own family or church as it is private, not for outsiders. There is a computer there and Anne already trusts us not do evil with it. In very little time, we realise that this planet is well settled and there are only sentient bipeds here. The animals that look like our old selves, they call reptilian and do not appear to be sentient because we found one on the street but he did not want to speak with us. They seem to know nothing of the animosity between bipeds and my own people. And, as we had suspected all along, this planet is a thousand years or more less advanced than our own sector of the galaxy. We have determined that we are in the same galaxy, but in a section of another arm, thousands of light years away. It seemed unlikely that we would ever see our home world again and the knowledge caused us great sorrow.

In looking at their human history, we see that there have been times when they advanced significantly, only to be driven back into the mud by their own folly, or by natural disaster. We raptly explored Western history, then European history, Middle Eastern history, but we found Far Eastern society to be the most interesting.

We’d already been taught about the history of long dead inhabitants of the Americas, and when we saw pictures of the ruins at Copan, we realised that this was indeed the original home world of the hated bipeds. What they interpreted as mounts to worship their Gods, was actually the place where the focusing array of a motivator was placed. So, biped history in that area must have been many thousands of years long, perhaps even 100,000 of their years.

We find that we are able to talk freely with Mummy about our findings and in time are able to share with her about our true origin. Her belief in her deity begins to fail, so we do our very best to bolster it, so she does not feel loss.

“It is all I have ever known. My own mother is wife three. We have a bond like none of the outsiders, and love one another though at times there is strife. The outsider’s lives are full of strife and bad feelings.” Anne says.

“We have not come to undermine your life. And yes, in our time here, we have seen that your people are kind and loving. There is nothing higher than that.”

“But Ohman and Tran, do you believe as we do?”

“We are at peace with your beliefs and we find nothing in our knowledge to indicate that it is not true. In our hive back home, the idea of a supreme deity just never occurred to us. We have sworn your oaths and given our testimonies as they were our own.” Tran and I were very aware that the biped’s belief system was extremely vital to their wellbeing. We must help her as much as we can.

As a means of cheering Mummy up, I downloaded a movie from the internet and we watched it together. Tran squirmed a lot, but I and Mummy enjoyed it very much. The movie was called “Persuasion” and watching it, I realised that Mummy was just like the Anne in the movie. What a co-incidence! It helped me to understand the meekness and reticence of Mummy. I wondered if it was her true nature or had it been forced upon her.

Joseph and I decided that we would use only our “Christian” names so that we would seem more normal to Anne. We are concerned for her, and we know that it is hard for her being away from her family for so long.

“Mummy, may I cook for you tonight?”

“Lizzy, I would like that very much. May I watch you and we can talk?” She thought that she was being subtle in maintaining a watch on me while I engaged in biped cooking. This activity is something we never did in our old lives.

“Sure Mummy, I know that you are lonely. After dinner, Joseph and I need to take you out to the park, or we could even go to the Temple grounds, and watch the sun set.”

“That would be lovely dears. Joseph, do you mind going with us?” Mummy asked. Anne was astonished to hear such talk from 6 year old children.

“I would love to accompany you and dizzy Lizzy as you walk. After all, you need protection and an escort.” He said with faux smugness and humour.

“Who says I am dizzy, you oaf,” I said to him and threw a pot holder at him catching him right in the face.
All this mock fighting made Mummy laugh and we were all soon lying on the carpet after a tickle fight. This did seem to raise her spirits for a while.

Later Joseph and I decided that Mummy needed a companion.

After our long walk with Mummy that night, we persuaded her to take us back to her old home for the week end. It felt as if we were all outsiders when we got there. So, Joseph and I found Brother Stevens and asked to talk to him in private. In an, at times, heated conversation with him, where he threatened to whip us, we finally persuaded him to release Anne from her marriage commitment. At first it appeared as if he would not yield, but when we revealed that we knew of a certain activity of his, he agreed, but with great bluster and unseemly bravado.

Anne was more than ready to leave after we had eaten lunch with the family on Saturday, so we had one of the wives, Anne’s mother, return us to Provo. We had not told Anne that Brother Stevens had released her yet. It would all have to go through the courts but to her the only thing that would be important was that Brother Stevens had released her. Joseph was working hard on finding a companion for our Anne, and I put much of my energy into helping her around the house and being her companion.

August 2021

We were 10 years old now. It was touch and go for a while because Anne was quite sad that she had been abandoned by her family. In truth, it was easy to see that they all used her and emotionally abused her. We persuaded her to take us and to start attending a church near us, and we tipped some the sisters off, that our Anne was quite lonely. We did not understand the specifics but the people at this church believed differently than where Mummy came from, and she quickly adapted. It seemed obvious that there were no sister wives, and that there were lots of men around. So, we often listened to a report of Anne’s day that included pleasant and challenging breaks with visiting sisters. She seemed much happier and more animated than in recent months.

One afternoon as she walked us to classes, we stopped at a drive up to get warm water with honey in it. Joseph wanted some coffee, but we had agreed that we would honour Anne’s beliefs as long as we were with her. As we walked away, a man said to us. “Mam, you have two really lovely and smart children there. You should be proud of them.” We recognised him from church and he seemed about Anne’s age, and he eventually invited us all out to dinner with him that night. His name was Professor Michael Hyde. He was one of the professors at the school, and had heard about us, but we had not had him as a professor yet since he was a sociologist and we were very science oriented.

At dinner, Joseph took me to the restroom and stood outside while I hid in a stall for a while. We wanted to give Mummy a chance to talk to Michael. I know it could sound sneaky but Mummy was almost 25 years old and we knew that she felt worthless. After that, we hid behind some flowers in the waiting area until the hostess asked us what we were doing. “Oh, we are just giving Mummy and that nice man some time to themselves.” She smiled at us and said, “That is really nice of you to think about your mother.” She turned and went on helping other customers but watched us out of the corner of her eye.

May, 2026

We are 15 years old now. At times I miss our old lives and the freedom and adventure, yet this existence is pleasurable. Mummy Anne married Michael, and much has changed. Mummy and Daddy (Calling him Daddy was still hard at times, but we wanted to support their marriage) were married in the temple a week before Thanksgiving that year. Of course Mummy had to get baptised just as a formality since her group was not the same as our present one. We have moved to a spacious house not that far from campus. We both have friends of the opposite sex, but we do not get serious with any of them. Every once in a while I will see Joseph looking meaningfully at me or he will catch me looking at him; we know.

Joseph is teaching higher level physics and advanced mathematics. He told me that he must be careful so that the government does not get too interested in him because of his advanced mathematics and engineering knowlege. Though he has been able to make some primitive imaging and listening devices from their primitive technology, it was nothing like what was common in our old existence. He explained to me that the new technology was on the verge of 4 nm. Joseph explained that he planned to indirectly help them start developing technology that would permit the move into more advanced science than what their primitive methods allowed.

While doing some lab work one day, I decided to Karyotype my own tissue. And, later ran the same test on the tissue of Joseph. We had assumed that in the trip through the matter transporter, our cells had mixed, but that was not the case at all. In fact, our DNA was not even remotely related. At first, I thought nothing of it, because I was simply acquainting myself with the primitive lab equipment. Something seemed to be wrong with the test though, and I was not surprised. I had not really expected my test to be completely normal. After a lot of work, I finally figured out that I did not have 46 Chromosomes, but 128, and that seemed so unlikely. The software in the analysis machine was not written to cope with any more than 50 Chromosomes, so I had to hand count and calculate the rest. Everything I checked seemed to confirm my original results. I wondered what those extra Chromosomes were for?

His science was getting more advanced than anything I had seen here on earth, and one day it dawned on me that he was drawing on the Common Memory, something I had not felt since we came through the worm hole. Throughout the universe, every piece of matter was connected by what could loosely be called neuronic paths, and the gravity wells around solid objects formed figurative ganglions. So, effectively all of creation was a huge memory device and mind. Later that night we would talk. I could feel the heat of betrayal building in me. I felt like going to war. Why had he not told me? To be back in touch with the Common Memory would have been such a comfort!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tran, are you accessing Common Memory?”

“Yes Ohman, did you not know we could?”

“Why did you not tell me about it, you big oaf?” Yes, Tran was twice my size in this life as well, Gah!”

“Well, you’re a girl.” Where did he get such sexist and human like thinking? I thought he was better than that.

“Tran, I am so displeased with you. “ I could not stand it, I had to have a piece of him, and began pounding on him, but my 100 lb. body did not carry menace in it. Suddenly something snapped in me and I started to cry and scream at him.

“You used to love me and you cared for me and protected me and I could depend on you and now you just care for yourself. How could you?” Tears were streaming down my face and I was feeling emotion that I had not thought possible and continue to live!

Before I knew it, Mummy was holding us both, and Michael, bless his soul, just stood there looking confused. I cried and cried. But finally Tran seemed to have understood his offense to me, and began to apologise profusely.

“Ohman, I am so sorry, I was wrong. Please do not be angry with me. I do love you and have always loved you and would lay eggs with you as my pod mate.” Tran clearly was not thinking of anyone but me and failed to realise that Mummy and Michael would have no idea what we were talking about. This could really open us up to scrutiny that we did not wish.

“Tran, we have lived through so much together on 100 planets or more. I cannot bear the thought of your not being with me. Please, I beg of you never leave me!”

Mom looked at us, and then at Michael in confusion. Then she seemed to make a decision. “Michael, I think I would really like a banana split. Would you please take me out for one? I think the children have something to work out.”

“Uh, yes, I think I really would like a banana split too.” He glanced over his shoulder as Mummy herded him toward the front of the house.

Mummy, now full of purpose, guided him to the door; grabbing her purse and keys along the way.

“Ohman, I am so sorry. You are the dearest thing to my heart, and it has always been so. It has been so difficult learning to be the male and having you as the female, when we used to be both. It was a game we played and we both knew it.”

Sniffling a little I said, “Speak for yourself buster. I rather like being the female and having you take care of me, especially when I need to be held.”

“But, but Ohman, what about when I need to be held and comforted, like we used to do?”

“Then I suppose we shall have to work that out, but as you can see, your huge T shirt will always look like a dress on me, and if I ever catch you in my shoes, you are so dead mister!” Tran picked me up like he used to, and I began to rub his face and run my hands through his hair. Though we both knew that we could not allow desire to inflame our bodies.

Later, outside he very quietly explained to me that most areas where we worked were bugged, and we were being watched very closely. Apparently we had failed to be as private as we wished. He did not speak of the CM because he did not wish to attract attention.

Mummy and Michael came home to find us sitting at the dining table, opposite each other chatting happily. Gone were the tears and dark clouds surrounding Tran and I.

“Hi dear, you seem to be doing much better.” Mummy said. Michael stood back a little as if he was unsure that the storm was finally over.

“Mummy, may we talk to you and Michael, um Daddy, for a moment?”

“Sure darling, what is it?”
Mummy, there are some things we need to tell you, and I hope that you will give us your blessings. You see, Joseph and I are not twins, or even related. I ran some tests while in the lab at school the other day, and we are not even remotely related. You see before …” Mummy gave me a warning with her eyes. She clearly did not want Michael to know about our past lives. “Well, it is like this. Even though we grew up together and everyone thought we were twins and we have been so very close these years since we came here, we both wondered why we felt so connected to each other. We have both tried to get interested in others, but it comes right down to the fact that we somehow share a spiritual link that cannot be broken.”

“I am glad that you said something honey, because I have been thinking the same thing almost from that day you appeared on the front lawn. Your words only confirm it.”

Michael said, “Now children, you are too young to marry now, but if Anne still feels strongly and you do also Joseph, when you are 18, I will support your marriage with the Bishop.”

I got up and walked around to hug Mummy and then um Daddy. It was going to be hard to adjust to this nice man as Daddy, but it is something that needed to happen to help solidify our bond as a family.

The next day as Joseph and I walked to campus to teach, he related to me that at first accessing the Common Memory was unconscious, but then he realised what he was doing and the link soon gained much strength. I tried it right then but got nothing, but we vowed to work on it more later.

At College, I am teaching advanced medical techniques and cell theory. Hah, I say theory, but it is not, because I am teaching way less than I know, feeding them just a little at a time.

Mummy thought that she could not have children but when I got her in an exam room, I used my diminished powers of healing to repair and mature her ovaries. She’d been intersexed, and we managed to erase any sign of abnormal genitalia. It took a couple months and the use of special teas but her reproductive systems finally began functioning.

“Anne’s first mense was greeted with both shock and joy. We’d prepared Anne, but she never thought that she’d need the napkins and tampons. She insisted on changing her own bed, and chortled to herself as she carried the sheets into the laundry room to wash. I’d managed to snap a picture of her bed while she was in the bathroom before she stripped the bed. Anne, for the first time in her life was standing firm, and for a while we feared that it would go to her head. “I have a husband and we are going to make babies.”

Joseph had already been talked to about going on the mission field, and the prospect instilled fear in me. We had both spent several score of years together in our old life and the prospect of being separated from him I could not bear. We had never thought of stopping for children. In our old state, one of us would eventually decide to bear the egg and the other would fertilise it, since both of us could do either function, and in a pinch, we could impregnate ourselves, but that would lead to birth defects eventually.

This living in a biped body held a certain amount of menace for me. I had to have a mate, and frankly looking at the sophomoric and irresponsible attitude of the males around me made me fear a joining greatly. It took some time to occur to me, but in time I would realise that Joseph was the only perfect mate for me, even in our new life. We loved living with the gentle people of the Wasatch Mountains and the Salt Lake. And we hoped that we could remain there for quite some time. Their system of belief was unnecessary to us, and we find no reason to disprove it. Yes, we can easily be at peace with it. Yet, I knew that on this planet, people regularly forced their beliefs on others.

To encourage and show support for Mummy, Joseph and I applied to be baptised and it was quickly approved. So a couple weeks later, we both submitted to it. I felt something when it happened, but had no idea how much it would change my life.

Though I had always inwardly withheld something of myself concerning their belief system, by coincidence, the next week, access to the Common Memory came to me once again. Neither Joseph nor I spoke of it for a long time, but inside I knew something that I did not wish to think of.

Joseph and I have set our wedding date for September 2, 2029. We will be 18 years old. We started getting salaries when we started teaching, but Mummy insisted that we saved it for the future as she was providing everything for us. She did allow us an allowance, and she and Daddy helped us buy used cars when we got our licenses.

I began commuting to Salt Lake to teach my medical courses, and was eventually awarded a Medical Residency in spite of the fact that I taught some of the advanced classes there. The President of the Medical School assured me that when my age seemed more mature to the board, he’d see that I got a full Doctorate. I did not care, because they essentially let me do as I wished anyhow.

With help from Joseph, we had begun to dig into human genetics and drawing on Common Memory, were able to figure out that humans were designed to be the supreme predator. We’d had some really secret meetings with a shadow government organisation, and agreed that they could watch us all they wanted, if they stayed out of our lives and did not try to imprison us. They were pressing Joseph to work in weapons technology, but through subterfuge, he had managed to hold them off, saying that his work was purely theoretical. We knew that it could not last long though.
Working secretly, Joseph and I began to prepare some surprises for them if they grew aggressive.

I had said the bare minimum to Joseph, but I was preparing a plan to alter the genetics of humans, to make them much less aggressive and to reproduce less also. I felt like a saboteur, but human bipeds needed to be controlled or they would destroy all known life. I took no notes and prepared no solutions. I kept my findings stored in the Common Memory. My own race was aware where we were, due to both of us accessing Common Memory, but I had convinced them that I was going to remedy the problem of human seed in at least this galaxy. They understood and supported that the objective was to pacify humans, not to exterminate them. My people did not have the need for revenge and retribution in them. They just wanted peaceful, harmonious lives.

In the privacy of my own mind, while doing some lab work one day, I found a possibility. It was a weak point in the human genome, and I could see through information provided to me by CM (Common Memory) a specific kind of explosion on Earth would break that link. Males with 46 Chromosomes would have 43 and Females with about 1400 Chromosomes would drop to 1398. As I realised how simple this could be, I began to be suspicious that the original human gene structure had been altered but a long time ago. I began to cross link information and suddenly realised that by using genetic regression analysis, I could know almost exactly when this spliced on gene combination happened. It took a few days, but I realised that manipulation had occurred to the human gene set around 200,000 years ago. According to the data, that correlated with the sudden disappearance of a very old race that was of record in CM but not on earth.

It is only speculation, but it makes me wonder if that dying race had tampered with human genetics to find a way to prolong their survival? Well, Joseph and I would only talk about that issue through CM because we did not know if there could be a symbiotic relationship with present humans and survivors of that old race. And, we did not know how certain elements would react to this new idea.

So, accessing CM to have the calculations made, I also asked for the theoretical consequences on living humans. I was very concerned about Mummy and Daddy. It did not take long to understand that a sub atomic blast could harm the innocent, and have unforeseen consequences. Truth, the so called blast would do almost no observable physical damage and would be intended to only break the link in specific types of bonded cell structures. However, not even in the CM, was it known if the cellular bonding I sought to change occurred anywhere else in warm blooded, carbon based life forms.

September, 2029

Mr Joseph Blair, married me today in the Temple, and I became Misses Elisabeth Blair. The wedding was beautiful, and despite my normally placid nature, found myself happily crying quite openly when Joseph put the ring on my finger.

The reception was wonderful, and we were joined by many friends both from the university and our neighbourhood. Mummy had invited her mother and father, but they did not come, probably owing to concerns of difficulty in dealing with our church’s protocols. Happily, this was one time in my life when I could just smile, be sweet, and do as I was told, and poor Joseph had to handle all the other details. Mummy had been very pleased to do a great deal with the wedding.

Afterward, we spent a week, hiking in Southern Utah, in some of the scenic parks. I found places in what locals call, “The Slots”, that reminded me a great deal of our home world. Joseph had a great time, preparing the tent and things, and I loved cooking in the quiet desert air, though the mornings made me feel quite sluggish.

At some point, in his leisure time, he’d found out about an actress named Goldie Hawn, and proceeded to act out some of her old skits, performed on television with me. It was fun to watch the old shows on our little SatTV. It was quite easy to bring with us, rolled up and pushed into a little tube until we unrolled it to watch. I know that what we were doing was completely mindless, but he enjoyed it and I was happy to see him happy, and found myself having quite a lot of fun. The one where she talked about dumb people made us both roll on the floor of the tent in laughter. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eIA1VS2bDa4

On the last day, we hiked back out to the car, and found a man in another car that seemed to be parked, waiting for us. He looked about 40 or so years old, and was nicely dressed. I was not fearful of him with my 225 lb. baby with me. He’d been carrying his special accessories with him for some time.

The man got out of his car and came round to us. He introduced himself as Andy and said he wanted to show us something. He had a little remote with him and as he turned to talk with us, his car started making this warbling squealing noise that was quite loud, but not so loud that we could not talk.

“Well, that will take care of any local listening devices on your car or around here, but not any video they have on us. He shielded his lips with his hands and said, “You don’t remember me, but I went down the rabbit hole before you did. Sorry that the apparatus changed you into a lousy biped, but it looks like you two have done ok for yourselves. I’ve been watching you ever since I finally located you, when you were about 15 or so. You came down not far from here and I came down South of Des Moines, Iowa. All I had to do was dust myself off, get an ID, and get a job. I also gained access to CM, but do not have the facility with it that you do. I have to use a special receiver, and yours is in your heads. That’s what part of those extra chromosomes you have do.” He said. He looked tired and harried. We felt sorry for him.
“Look kids, you are doing fine work and I am proud of you. I know what you intend to do about the aggression problem, and want to suggest something. There is a formula in CM with the name Andy Darling on it. Look at my work and decide what you think. You are gonna find that you inherited a bunch of money from a dead Uncle, there will be enough even after taxes. I’d advise you to disperse the formula as well as you can by shipping stuff everywhere you can think of. You don’t need to spray it, just use one of those old fashioned bottles with a wick in it. Disperse that everywhere you can and every male baby born from now on will be missing Chromosome 45 and 46. Anyhow, review my findings and if you agree, use them.” He paused to look around and then at his little remote. “God, I don’t have much time, look I have to go, but do this for me and it will make the Galaxy a happier place.”

Both Joseph and Elisabeth stood there for a while after he left. They didn’t know if he was a nut or what. Secretly both of them knew exactly who he was but considering Joseph’s previous suspicions and the word of the man, they instinctively knew not to talk in the open about the matter.

Joseph turned toward Liz, and winked. “Wow Lizzy, that guy was weird; do you think he is dangerous?”

“I don’t know Joey, should we call the police?”

“Yes, I think we will as soon as we get back to Hanksville.”

Neither of them knew if what they said would help at all or specifically how closely they were being watched. They had never thought of what happened to the man who’d gone down the hole before them. It was a surprise to run into him.

It took them months to find Andy’s work and through trial and error, Liz decided that his assessment should reduce the aggressive nature of humanity, though it would take 40 to 60 years. He used a similar method to Liz’s but used a pseudo virus; strong enough to survive for several hours in severe conditions but like a virus in action. Once the gene change happened in a few males, it would be the dominant gene configuration for human males, and any males born after that would be more mild and un-warlike.

It took us a year and a half, but through shipping things with concealed aerosols all over the world, even un solicited, by tagging tiny ones to some part of airplanes, both commercial and military, we finally achieved as much distribution as we thought possible. It took a year, before the babies started turning up, but sure enough, by Joseph’s invading medical data bases in much of the world, and having started and then sloppily trying to conceal a story about genetic warfare, introduced by the Iranians, this news caused the Karyotype test to become routine. Of course in our research, we introduced a method of doing said test in a very economical way.

We felt a heavy burden, because we were going to alter the lives of all humanity, including those who’d given us nurture when we were helpless infants. At times, my dreams were troubled so much that they seemed quite unbearable. I often wakened feeling the burden as the possible exterminator of human kind. In my own defense, as lame as it may sound, it was our hope to eventually enrich the lives of not only humans but of all life in this galaxy and others if it became necessary.

Along the way, Joseph and I discovered that our bodies had stopped aging, though it would take us months to figure out why. We had thought about burrowing into the earth and hibernating for 50 or so years, but eventually decided that the responsible thing to do was to stay around and do what we could to help humanity, as dangerous as they were, along the way to a more admirable existence.

August 2034.

My goodness, my own academic life has changed so much. Two years after our genetic seeding of the earth, I found I was pregnant despite my most stringent efforts to avoid pregnancy. I was too busy and felt that my time was scarce enough. Much to my extreme surprise, Joseph was elated and strutted round like a barn yard rooster. When I mentioned terminating the pregnancy to him, he roared like a lion and menaced me in a manner that I had never seen with anyone, least of all him. I tried to argue with him and he even put over his lap and spanked me. We fought about it for days, and one time when I threatened to get an abortion, he chained me to the door knob. In the end, I really knew for sure that he wanted children, and I relented. I was completely discomfited and made to feel quite submissive and obedient. I think I must have been fearful of being abandoned at a very deep level and his strength made me feel secure finally. I have no idea where those feelings came from, and would not find out for almost 300 years, that he had done a little tampering with both our physiologies. By the time I did find out, I would be so enamoured of his leadership in our family that I was quite amused at his initiative. I don’t know what I will do with children?

August 2041

God help me, I now have three sets of adorable twins, two boys, two girls, and two boys. We named them Joseph Jr., Brigham, Mary, Anne, John, and Mosiah. I thank God that they were twins because while they were burdensome to carry around, it meant fewer pregnancies. All the children seem to be quite precocious, and I expect that the two oldest will be ordering everyone around soon.

It was impossible for me to keep up with all this, so Joseph allowed me to hire a live in woman to help us with them all. Can you imagine 6 toddlers raising havoc in our house? The young woman has a child of her own, and was quite destitute because her own husband had very recently died in a mining accident. I don’t know how long we will have her but she seems to fit right in here.

I’ve had to almost completely abandon my medical practice, and Joseph is busier than ever working at the University at BYU, which has become the foremost research centre for space exploration. Mummy and Daddy have moved in next door and Daddy, now the president of one of the schools at the University, is talking with the building authorities about attaching the houses to each other. We all think it is a wonderful idea.

Yes, the space program is cooking again, and the leaders have finally realised that either strict population control must be enforced, or humanity but take to the stars. Through Josephs careful tutelage, he has guided them toward an FTL drive, though that won’t get them much but it will make it manageable to explore and even perhaps colonise the Moon, Mars and perhaps the moons of the gas giants. Venus is quite toxic and Mercury is really quite hot, but learning to exist in these places should finally help the humans to develop better research methods.

We do not have plans to give them the matter transport soon.

July 2061

Good heavens, time has flown by. All the children are in college, though Mary and Anne plan to get general studies degrees and then raise families. The four boys are very bright, though very gentle, and shepherd like to their sisters. The house seems empty with them being gone to college, and being involved in dating and other activities during the week. I was greatly pleased to see that in a family meeting, everyone agreed that Sunday was a family day and we would all eat, and go to church together. I am so glad that Grandpa Michael built the addition because it is the only room in the house to hold us, all our children, with their boyfriends and girlfriends, Mummy and Daddy’s children, Jeffery and Melody and their children, and so on, and so on. On Thanksgiving last, it took four turkeys and all the other things that go into a family meal.

September 2100

We just returned from Mummy and Daddy’s funeral this morning. They were hit, head on by a landing auto freighter, as they made their approach to Logan Airport, and died instantly. We all knew that they were too old to be flying their own auto-plane, but they seemed in such good health. Sigh, what can I say? We are all sad.

Joseph and I are going to have to disappear and perhaps return with new identities. We are hoping to present ourselves as our own siblings, and live in the same neighbourhood. Joseph finally slipped another scientist enough research ideas that he was able to build a working Fission power plant. It is small, about the size of a cooking stove and produces 44,000 watts. That was 5 years ago, and since then, the price of oil has plummeted. Airplanes, cars, trucks, boats and homes are being fitted with this power at the fastest rate possible. The waste of these power plants is tiny, heavy and not dangerous at all.

August 2150

We did disappear and return to our old neighbourhood in Provo, but it was painful to watch even our own children get old, and forget us. Finally, we just bought a big motor home and travel all the time, paying cash for everything. The Motorhome even flies, but it is lumbering and slow, though we have flown to Europe and China before.
The United States is now comprised of all of North America. The Capitol is now in Denver, and the government is truly democratic once again. The full effect of our genetic alterations to humanity is being felt now. In the huge melding of humanity, Christianity, Islam and Judaism all combined and made a very peaceful community. Of course there are still the atheists and other people, and they are given their voice, though they really don’t have much to complain about anymore, because religious tension is not driving war any longer.

Joseph and I are sitting several miles from the space port in Northern Nevada, watching ships fly to and from the colony on the Moon. The invention of a material with 100 times the strength of steel and 1/10th the weight has driven fantastic engineering feats. It is not made using foundries, and not from the earth.

They found artefacts up there and having seen the pictures of them, now know of the race that we believe originally spliced the human genome and made bipeds so aggressive. We’ll have to investigate soon to see if they still exist and find out what they originally intended. However, the CM indicates that they have not been heard of in many thousands of years. We will never give humanity access to the CM, at least not while we are alive; though Andy may do it, if he still lives, though we only met him here on earth that one time.

May my people, the reptilians live long. It seems that human bipeds are no longer a threat to sentient life. We just need to patiently wait as it propagates throughout the galaxy. We’ll have to resort to the use of the matter transport to do that, but we will send genetic packets to the places where we know the bipeds are thriving and then wait several generations before we allow our own peaceful bipeds to travel there.

When we started this journey, we had never thought of the existence of an intelligent unifying force in the universe. However so many unanticipated events have occurred, what I see no longer supports the chaos theory. To that unifying force, I hope that we have done your will and that you are pleased with us.

As I sat there gazing at the sunset, I felt a ping in the CM and when I looked in there, I saw a file that said, Ezekiel 1:16, yes the wheels within wheels reference. As a young girl going to school one of the classes I had all 12 years was Doctrine, and in that we studied the entire Bible, and all their other books. With my memory, and later using the CM, I could easily remember virtually all I had ever read. This file in the CM was not put in by me, Joseph, or anyone I know. The file extension was completely absent, so it should not have been possible to even write there. As I thought about the information and the possible source, I decided that yes, the intelligence was pleased.

The end.

"Captain, oh my Captain"

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Other Keywords:

Have Kleenex

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Captain, Oh My Captain

By Gwen Brown

One of my readers just informed me that my title was originally used by Walt Whitman. I did not know this when I used it.

What happens when your dreams come true?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here I was, sat in a church feeling grateful for what life had dealt me. Oh, there was sadness and pain from the past but remembrance of that was mostly muted and felt distant. I liked the songs and the testimonies of those present; my own having such power in my life that it felt as if for the first time in my life I was where my God wanted me to be. My family had been really ugly to me, nearly driving me to death. In retrospect, I could now see that in some respects they were simply mad because I would not be taking care of them in the manner in which they had become accustomed. The kids were all married, some with children of their own. I had carried enough guilt.

I’d been tormented all my life by a sense of being out of place, though I had no idea what it was. I did not, ‘not’ remember things from my childhood; they just were not there to miss. I would not begin to recollect the horrors of the past until the fates decided that it was time to destroy my cushy little life. Needless to say the relatives were utterly dismayed and condemning and that only accelerated my ultimate degradation in their eyes. They not only did not want to know of my childhood, they did not even care. I’d decided they were toxic and somehow wisely stopped thinking of them.

My whole life, I had always worked to provide for the family, and even when I was not working, I was providing for them. In retrospect, I was too good to them and they should have been learning to do things for themselves. When I got sick and was in the Hospital, they just freaked out. For many months as I was hospitalized, the family seemed to blame me, finally totally rejecting me. No, wait, I was there when they needed me! Where are they now when I need them?

At the end of services, I stood and greeted those around me, and in this large church, they were numerous. They would attend an hour of Sunday school and yet another hour of classes, while I would wait for the halls to clear and quietly walk to my car. I was pretty sure about God, but people, not so much. I was still wary. The slim blue skirt was below my knees but the kick pleat in back was far too long for my tastes, so I wore a slip with it. Sewing up the slit made it far too tight to walk in. The matching jacket was short sleeve, and framed my smallish breasts ideally. I wore a silk blouse with a ruffle in front. I had searched for matching blue heels without luck so it was black pumps. The suit gave me confidence.

I was carefully vague about myself, when talking to others, choosing to deflect questions that asked me to reveal too much by asking others about themselves. People just love to talk about themselves, so I thought that at least temporarily the tactic would work. Their missionaries tried to corner me but I managed to deflect them for a while. I knew that eventually they would grow more insistent and had not developed any stronger tactic but to stonewall them. They were, after all just out of high school and not equipped to be hurt like I could do it.

This time, my escape was hindered by a man about my age. He looked quite dignified, though the glory of his youth had departed, his visage still made my innermost parts react in a pleasant, yet unfamiliar way. I tarried a bit as we talked, his name was Fred, but finally our encounter ended and I once again started for the door to make my way out to my aged Corolla. As I drove home, I did not notice the car following me.

I’d rented a small house on the edge of St George, Utah. It was a bit dilapidated but seemed weather tight. I liked the feeling of anonymity and privacy where I could work on my slightly demented feminist science fiction stories and study ancient religion. Though religions had treated me quite shabbily, I was still very curious about this being called God, G_d, Allah, Messiah or whatever. I found the idea that saying there was no God to be ludicrous.

Not too long ago, my Christian fundamentalist family had disowned me after making embarrassing discoveries about me, and with retirement within reach I took the early exit. I’d made a lot of money and had a little something set aside. My X was very successful and was just glad to be rid of me so she could play. The signs of her infidelity had been there, but blinded by love, and Dependent Personality Disorder, I ignored it. I’d been saddled with an uneasy tormentment all my life and then undertook to remedy the problem. My X immediately applied for divorce, and like the slut she was, married within two months of the divorce being final.

Something had bothered me my entire life, and a few trips to sleazy bars helped me to start thinking about things. I became fast friends with an aging prostitute. She somehow knew that I would never be a customer.

“Honey, you just look like someone who begs to be taken care of. You’re not gay, and if you were a woman, I would not say you were a lesbian. Nope, you are a woman.”

Well, that hit me like a ton of bricks, but something resonated. We hit the town, going to dinner and drinking and on tricks. She’d tell the customers that I was one of the girls but just wanted to watch. Believe it or not, some of the customers liked to be watched. I was almost paying my way, much to my astonishment.

I did that for a few months and then decided to see a counsellor, actually several. I felt myself just going in a circle, but not getting anywhere. Then the blood test that my Doctor ordered for me came back. It explained everything, my like for female friends, my lack of male friends, my sewing, and my penchant for writing romance stories. While I had male bits, my brain did not match. In the year 2040, the bullshit was over, though there will still be sometimes really mean families. I lacked that last bit to make me Male.

It did not take many months to deduce that the counsellors really were not trying to ease my pain, but just wanted my money, so upon doing some research, I booked a one way ticket to Thailand. I arrived at the clinic there without the documents supposedly required for my surgery, but as I suspected, $200 American secured them.

A scant 6 weeks later, I climbed on the plane for America as a dignified, fourtyish woman who looked thirtyish as a woman, where as I had arrived impersonating a retired, somewhat harried and aged gentleman. I had not bothered to tell my counsellor I was leaving; her authoritative diatribe having convinced me that if I was ever to be the mistress of my fate, it needed to be that I rid myself of her influence immediately. While in Thailand, they had remodelled my lower parts by doing a penile inversion labioplasty, liposuction on my gut and putting the contents on my hips and posterior. It had been extremely inconvenient to sleep on my chest for two weeks. I told the Doctor there that I did not wish breast implants, and he agreed, that my body would make her own, very nicely thank you.

Much to their surprise, upon doing a much more exhaustive karyotype test that I was almost CAIS, so rather than do the breast work they’d planned on, they simply did injections. In just a couple of months my belated body grew its own mammary tissue. They felt I would always be small but continue to develop, and be adequate. Later, after having mostly recovered from Facial Feminization Surgery, I returned to the US.

There was a considerable delay upon entering the US because I no longer looked like the old me. “I should hope not”, I told them. They eventually did finger prints and 16 hours later they released me with the strict admonishment that I get permanent changes to my passport. One of them threatened to fine me for not following the normal procedure. I secretly gloated because I had just bypassed all the pompous and authoritative people in my life that simply wanted my money.

It was then after returning to the states, that it dawned on me that I had been foolishly wilful and arrived in Woman Ville not actually knowing what a woman did. I was still culturally male.

The feminine deportment training in Thailand helped but I made arrangements to take up residence temporarily in Anaheim to study deportment for another six months under the tutelage of one of the trainers that did work for Disneyland. So it was, in 6 to 10 hour segments for a solid month, I put makeup on, took it off, put it on … Then I walked in shoes of many heights. She went easy on the stilettos because I was no spring chicken, but she insisted that I do it enough to be graceful in them. She had me wearing bras that were evil and some that were tolerable. The nasty part was trying to match a 40 inch band to B breasts. I wanted sexy bras but had to settle for dignified ones. I soon knew in my heart why the first thing when a woman gets home, the heels and bra come off immediately!

So it was that 9 months after retirement, I had a new name, much changed body, and the skills to use it. Returning to Portland was foolish and after getting my heart broken several times at the hands of various churches and social organizations, I simply left. My car, along with everything I owned was in a storage shed. I took the trouble to change my name yet again and just dropped out of sight. It was bothersome talking to the government, but with all the paperwork in order, I destroyed the card in my cell phone and left town with all that I owned in and on my car.

I had $10,000 cash on me, and just roamed around for a while, staying in La Grande, where I got a new card for my phone. He was a seedy guy and did not ask many questions. Then it was off to Idaho Falls, Boise, Salt Lake City, and finally St George Utah. I camped out for two days, and went to a motel for one while traveling. There was no shortage of helpful men, but out in the woods it was legal for me to wear my pistol on my waist, and they would keep their distance. So here I was as about as full blown a woman as I could be, but very uncomfortable with male friendships. Was my transformation a mistake? Was there a period of adaptation? Was there more to being a woman than having the body?

One older gentleman who appeared to be alone in his camp trailer, persisted in talking to me. He was interested in why I would be out in the desert, camping alone? “Oh, I’m just taking a break from life.”

“Things got too hard did they?”

“Yes, I worked very hard and at the first sign of trouble, they divorced me.”
“Well, that is not always your fault, at least not all of it. It might be a blessing.”

We spoke long into the night. He was a nice man, without an agenda it seemed. When he left to go back to his trailer, I longed for his companionship. Had he wakened something in me?

When I rose in the morning, and crawled out of my tent, he had departed. I found his empty space to bring on feelings of sorrow. He left an unwelcome void in my soul. Would I ever meet him again? Was he really there?

It was mid-July and about 110 degrees when I found my tiny little house in St George, Ut. The first thing I bought was an air conditioner. The days were really hot, but at dawn it was nice, so each morning before the sun came up, I would drive up to some park with trails, and hike along in the dawn light. I got some astonishing photographs of the sun rising. What it did to the landscape was inspiring. I’d arrive back in St George in time for breakfast, and would sometimes stop at run down looking cafes where I found the best food.

I’d been in St George for a little over a month when I met the dignified gentleman, Fred, in the local market. He was looking for Mayonnaise; I was looking for Salad dressing. I had no way of knowing that Fred was a widowed, retired Movie executive with lots of money and liked projects. Thought I did not know it at the time, he was a widower, and I was about to become his next project.

Meanwhile, I still had to carefully shave my face every single day, and the hair transplants I’d had in Thailand were just so effective. So, every day, before I went out, I shaved against the grain of my beard like I had been doing for years, and then put on my very professional looking wig. I had never frequented bars and did not even know if there were any in this town. Hiking and other outdoor activity was enjoyable so I took to exploring the surrounding environs even more.

There are numerous National parks in the surrounding desert and as early as March it was comfortable to venture out exploring. I must have been quite a sight in my ankle length full denim skirt and small back pack with camel insert. No one needed to know about the .45 auto tucked away in the folds of my skirt, and amazingly everyone I encountered was friendly, even protective of my welfare. One group, who was getting ready to set out, changed their plans to accompany me on my tour of exploration. I became good friends with a woman and her daughter who were from Provo with her family. Her husband was nice enough, but he did not attract me.

One afternoon upon returning from an outing, the land lord was there measuring the lot and the house. “Oh hello Ms Browne, I am just here with a contractor and am setting him up to do some repairs to this old house. I am sorry that you were allowed to move into it before I had this work done. I was in Africa, and did not know about this. The men were very nice and spent a couple weeks digging and painting around the outside. Later the land lord approached me about moving into his guest house while they did the inside of the house. I asked him how much he intended to raise the rent and he just laughed, telling me that he was more likely to lower it to make up for my having to live in such a shack. I sort of liked that old shack, I told him.

Fred from the grocery encountered me at the entrance of the church one Sunday and asked if I would mind him setting with me? Smiling like a young girl, I told him that being involved with me was fruitless because I was thinking of becoming a Nun. My statement was rather ridiculous, but it was all I could think of with my stomach full of butterflies. He was absolutely charming in service, handing me my hymnbook before I could reach for it, holding the sacrament trays for me, and generally being delightfully solicitous to me. At the end of the service, he stood with me and introduced me to several of the other members that seemed to know him well. About that time it came to me that he was well loved.

He invited me to stay for Sunday school and despite my weak refusals I found myself sitting by him as the next lessons began. I had the Bible on my big screen phone. As it turned out, I was well familiar with the subject we were discussing, but was ignored when I timidly raised my hand, the others simply talking in turn in an orderly manner. Fred spoke up for me, the instructor not even realizing I was present, and perhaps as way of apology asked me to stand and introduce myself.

“Hello everyone, I am Credence, and have not lived in town very long. I am retired and have travelled a bit before settling here in St George.”

I had hoped that would hold them off at least temporarily, and in my mind began to make plans to leave town very soon, the feelings of fear of exposure beginning to overwhelm me. Fred seemed to sense my discomfiture and began to hold my hand. I knew that this could not be, but he seemed to form a shield of protection around me, making me feel far younger and inexperienced than I was. I’d never had anyone care for me like he did. In my old life, I was doing the caring and the family were not even grateful. It moved me much more than I expected. I was in danger of crying. He plucked the single tear that had started down my face off with his folded handkerchief.

After class knowing that I was with Fred, several women surrounded me. They were so loving and reinforcing to me that I did not even notice that they had guided me into the Relief Society room and were about to begin their session. In panic, I tried to rise and flee, but two of the women encouraged me to stay, helping me to feel more secure. The memories of past pain and the wish to be anonymous seemed less important now.

I’d been in such a rush to have those surgeries, but not thought thoroughly about what it meant to be a woman openly in culture. I felt raw stage fright.

Later, after classes were finished Fred guided me to his car amid my weak protestations. Two women that turned out to be his unmarried daughters got in back and I felt much more relaxed. We went to a huge house for a Sunday barbeque. Little did I know at the time that it was his house, and his unmarried children lived there. He still had two girls at home, and 4 children were married, some with children of their own. I tried to remain aloof but was eventually drawn into helping to serve the food, playing ping pong, and goofy coffee table games. Though, in spite of the festive atmosphere, I felt dark clouds closing in. I was really tired by 10:00 PM when I got one of Fred’s girls to drop me off at my car. I got home rather readily and it only took a moment to get inside and securely locked in.

Now terrified, having a full blown panic attack, I slept fitfully and rose at 4:00 AM to begin packing. Nearly completely hysterical, I knew that my little plan to disappear had failed. I could not allow myself to get close to this man. I was falling in love, and I knew that it could not work out. One thing nice about the cottage I was renting was it had an attached garage. First thing I did was install the roof rack and cargo box. Then I began loading. By noon almost everything was in or on the car. I ordered takeout Chinese, and slept on a sleeping bag in the carpeted living room.
I woke up about sundown, shaved, got dressed, and went out to the garage. I’d lose my rent deposit, and I did not give 30 days’ notice. I’d make do. Sadly, I got in the car, and opened the garage door. As I pulled forward, I did not notice that the door was hooked on the cargo box and as I moved, it ripped the door off the rollers and the whole thing fell on my car. What would I do? I was trapped now and would have to call the landlord.

He came shortly, and found me standing in front of the cottage; hot tears streaming down my face. It was almost impossible to talk to him; my breathing was so ragged, and with hiccups I must have presented a sight.

He seemed to view my predicament with great sympathy, and took my lame explanation calmly. I told him that something had come up and I needed to leave immediately; that the house was clean and the furniture was well cared for and he was welcome to anything I had purchased. As I explained I got even more hysterical, and he began to question the wisdom of my driving in my present state.

“Oh, I must leave immediately, I am OK”, I insist.

“Well, alright, you have not broken the law and the place looks good enough that I won’t hold you to nothing.”

I was so distraught that I could not find my seat belt and then when I did get it fastened, I turned the wrong way out of the drive way. I did not realize it at the time, but the road dead ended after about 15 miles.

There was no traffic so there was none to encounter. When I finally ran into the end of the road, I just gave up and shut the engine off. Life seemed so bleak to me, how could I continue? I wore myself out in a torrent of tears, and the next thing I know it is dusk and someone is banging on my window. At first it startled me and I screamed hysterically. Where was I, why was I not in my bed?

When I calmed down a little, I found that it was Fred out there. Still too rattled to think clearly, I rolled down the window and said to him, “Fred, what are you doing out here?”

He was wearing a striped long sleeve men’s shirt, and cowboy hat. I could smell something; it must have been his cologne. It was mildly intoxicating. Chiding myself; just how did I get through the last months without realizing that men might attract me? Why had I not thought all this through?

“Well, missy, I might ask you the same question”.

“What do you mean, I’m a big girl, I can do what I want”.

“Well, John, the man who handles my rentals called me and told me that he thought you were a bit distraught.”

“Distraught, do I look distraught. I’m just fine,” I said rebelliously. Just then the tears started down my face, again, and I screamed while pounding the steering wheel,

“Well, fine missy then how come you look like a racoon and you’re crying. Not upset huh?”

“Look, I appreciate that you are very nice, but you can’t know me because if you do you will hate me and I can’t bear one more person hating me, do you hear?” There I was crying again and there was no way I could get the car started. Fred sneakily reached in, and unlocked my door and opened it!

“What did you do that for; didn’t I tell you that you can’t know me? I’m no good for either of us.”

“Well, one thing girl is you can’t start your car because it is in gear, and after observing you for the last 10 minutes, am declaring you incompetent to drive, and using my authority as a Deputy Sheriff to put you under protective custody.”

His face was so serious I could hardly look at it, yet there was gentleness in his voice. This could not be! I could not yield to my feelings, I must run away, flee before I hurt someone else!

“You what; where is your badge and where is your police car Mr smarty pants?”

“Well, if you don’t come peacefully, I am going to have to arrest you and cuff you!” I was sure he had his hackles up now. I was mad too. How could this man make me obey him? The nerve!

I jumped out of the car and started to take a swing at him but he easily caught my tiny fist in his bare hand, so then I kicked him with my foot and connected rather nicely I thought.

He let go and stepped back rubbing his ankle.

“See, I showed you how tough I am. I keep telling you that I have to leave. I am no good for anyone.” I’d decided that as soon as I got away from him I was going to find something to hit that would kill me. Sadly, none of this had worked. I was not a woman but a freak!

“Missy, not a single one of my children ever took a swing at me and I never hit them! I am going to bring you in line and right now!”

His eyes looked like they were overflowing with rage and it nearly paralyzed me. Faster than I could see, he had my wrist and he drug me around to the side of his truck, sat down on the running board and proceeded to spank me! The nerve of this character! Who did he think he was? It only took a few swats and I was really sorry I kicked him.

“OK, OK I am sorry, please stop.” He went on for about a dozen swats and I was limp and sobbing, pleading for him to stop.

“So, you are going to behave now. Am I going to have to cuff you still?”

“No sir, I promise no more kicking! I will be good.”

“Good, because I don’t have any cuffs.”

“Good because I didn’t want to wear them. Wait! You said you had cuffs!”

“You disappointed?” There was that infectious grin on his face, making it impossible to sustain my anger.

“I moved in on him again.”

“Am I going to have to discipline you again?”

“No kiss me.” He did, and I knew I could not leave, but had no idea how to explain my life.

We stood by my car and talked for a few minutes until I started shivering. “I should take you some place warm.”

He made arrangements for one of his men to come and get my car, after he put me in his truck with the heater going full bore. By then, I was exhausted again and went to sleep on the seat. Later, his weight on the truck seat roused me but not completely.

“Credence, we need to talk about what has you so upset and convinced that you are no good for me. As an adult male, I want a vote in that decision. When is the last time you ate?”

“Um, I’m not sure, but it could have been last night?” I was too tired to run from him, and it seemed that if I tried, he would have something to say about it. I desperately wished that something would calm my pounding heart.

I wakened late morning in a beautiful bedroom that I would later find out had belonged to one of his now grown and married daughters. The air felt cool on my face but inside under the silken sheets and warm covers I was so cozy. A tremor passed through my whole body and I rolled over and slept again.

When I wakened again, it seemed later in the day and on the clock I could see on a dresser it said it was past noon. What! Sweeping the covers back and springing to my feet, I could see that I was in a long cotton night gown that was not mine and I had to go potty so bad that I did not know if I could make it. Looking around the room, I could see the single door and the closet, so I fled into the hallway. Thankfully there was an open door and it was the bathroom!

With that bit of business taken care of, my mind settled once again on my predicament. Though part of my mind was concocting some wild tale, I knew that I could not tell him anything but the absolute truth. It would be hard, so I steeled myself for being alone and on the road by nightfall.

I found a fluffy bathrobe laying on the foot of the bed, so I put it on and went in search of the kitchen and everyone else. The house was empty. What was going on? I had no idea. The kitchen clock said it was nearly 1:00 PM. Feeling panic stricken, I knew I could not face a confrontation with Fred, the man who it was becoming painfully clear that I had fallen in love with.

I was standing by the stove with a huge butcher knife in my hand, and looking out the window. I don’t know how long I stood there but a hand on my wrist brought me back to awareness. “Hey, you want something to eat?” He said.

He’d brought home Pastrami on rye with au jus sauce. We split it and drank fresh peach juice. By the time we finished he was sat beside me and my head was on his chest. “You want to talk about it now?”

“I suppose so.” I knew it had to happen and the very thought was threatening to break my heart. I was too worn out and subdued by his gentleness to run any more. I told him where the file was in my car and he went out to the car to get it. While he was out there, I ran into the bedroom and put the clothes I’d worn yesterday on, meeting him in the living room when he came back in.

We retreated to his study and we both sat on a couch in there. It was a long process and I did not know if my heart would break before I was finished. “If you want to hear the truth, you have to promise not to interrupt me until I am finished.” I looked up into his rugged face and he nodded.

It took an hour and as we came to documented places in my story I laid the record in his lap. When I finished, I stood and turned to him, my heart breaking. “Thank you so much for being so gentle with me. I know that you will not want me now, so I will leave peacefully. Don’t worry about the records in your hands, I have more in a safety deposit box. Good bye and again thank you for your kindness.”

I don’t know how I got to the car and on the road without tears. It felt like I was going to my execution. After driving a long while, there was a wide spot in the road, so I pulled over. The tears and weeping came in a tormenting flood. At times I was sure that I would die right there on the side of the road.

Calmness came slowly and I lay there against the door in a daze. Later, more composed, I looked at the gas gauge and turned on the GPS to see where I was. I was not far from Hildale, Utah. It took a few minutes to find the Gas Station, buy some snacks in a market nearby and get back on the road. My mind was still in a fog and I had no idea where I would go. As I drove dark thoughts circulated through my mind and I did not pay attention. At a red light in a town I did not recognize at first, I looked at the GPS and realized I was back in St George.

I was too worn out to keep going, so I got a room in a cheap motel and slept. Hunger wakened me before daylight so I shaved, showered and got dressed before walking over to a rundown restaurant to eat. It felt like an automaton as I ate, and then I just sat there until the waitress asked me if there would be anything else. I felt like telling her that I needed a new heart.

Completely detached I walked past my car and up to the door of my room. “We need to talk.” He said. I had not seen him leaning against my car as I walked by. I turned my hollow feeling eye sockets on him, staring blankly. “Why would you think that? Are you going to tell me what trash I am? I already know that.”

I don’t know what happened but I was suddenly being held by those powerful arms. I wanted to fight him, break away and run, but he was too powerful, and I could scarcely even wiggle. I finally just laid my head against his powerful chest, and breathed in his manly scent. The tears began to flow again, and I wept until total exhaustion swept over me. I did not fight him as he put me in his truck, and got in beside me. One of his daughters was driving.

We sat in his study for a long time and talked. In the end, he revealed that his wife had died a couple years back and his daughters wanted to move up to Provo to attend College. He did not wish to be alone, and while he knew that I could not yet love him, he wanted me to give him a chance.

“You idiot, don’t you realize that I am a fucking pervert tranny? Do you want to completely ruin your reputation with me around?” He said he looked the records over and while he knew that some would not understand if they knew, he was not going to tell them and he knew that I would be stupid if I did.

That was two years ago. I went back to my little house because I was not going to live with a man that I was not married to. Lately we have been spending so much time together that one of his daughters finally asked when we would marry. He looked at me warmly, while my skin began to burn.
“I will when she says yes” He said. By now I knew that I would no matter the risk. I did not know how things would work out but I knew he would think of something. I just knew it.

The End

++Getting By++

Author:

Gwen Brown

Caution:

CAUTION

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

+ # Getting By # +

Doctor Marla Frances didn’t resist any more. All she could do is get by. Her days were spent at the Hospital working 10-hour days beginning at 7:00 AM, 6 days a week, missing breaks and lunches, caring for people who might thank her by her never seeing her again and hopefully not suing her. At the end of the drudgery, she made the short trip home to a solitary and hopefully quiet dinner before the nightly turmoil began.
She’d been a star during her education and at the start of practice at the hospital. And her two subsequent children, Amy and Jason aged, 2 and 3, were the joy of her life. Then her husband, Jack, suddenly gone by a drunk driver they said. Recently she had started to suspect that he was murdered but did not know of a motive.

By the time she finished and stood up, her ankles had already been shackled and her feet were in Locked on towering heels to prevent her from misbehaving or showing any resistance. She’d get a far too short visit with the children before their bedtime. The hired care giver, Margret, would see them asleep. Thankfully, they did not often wet the bed, and they were young enough to still share a room, though it had an attached half bathroom. When she left for the night, the door to their shared bedroom was electronically locked. She suspected that they’d been given a strong sleeping agent.

This nightmare had started shortly after the death of her husband. His estranged brother, Russ had shown up, stating that he wished to reconcile with his brother Jack, expressing surprise at his death. She began to suspect his motives when he started to surprise her in her private bathroom at odd times. Then, one evening when she had just finished dinner, she felt faint and at first though she was having an Ocular Migraine, an infrequent, painless visitor in the past. She’d wakened hours later, in steel shackles, bed heels and cuffs. Her mouth had an O gag made to mimic lips.

Naked on top of the covers, a dick was in her mouth and down her throat. At first, she thought she was dreaming because Jack and her had been into mildly kinky sex and he had taught her not to suffocate with a dick down her throat. The owner of this dick clearly did not know what he was doing or did not care because she felt on the verge of suffocation. He bragged to Marla about having given her LSD. She knew how dangerous LSD was and that she could now have recurrent trips for a very long time. If that was so, she would be even more helplessly captive. The Doctor fervently hoped that a trip did not happen to her at work.

After he finished in her mouth, he’d take her vaginally for hours. Her only break would be to use the toilet when she cried out. Thankfully, he found anal sex to be distasteful. She could do without the various fistulas and torn anal ring.
Subsequently, his hold on her was the threat to harm her children. So now, she just got by, fearful of what he might do to them and perhaps her also. The Children’s care giver took care of the grocery shopping and hired housekeeping. Marla had no way to know if any of the staff were part of the abuse.

After almost 2 more years of getting by, early on a Sunday, when her drunken tormenter was sleeping in, she managed to quietly get out of bed despite the noise of her bondage chains and other metal clanking and leave the room. Her excuse would be that she was hungry and was on the way to the kitchen if he wakened and caught her.

It was slow moving, fettered as she was. Along the way she passed her dead husband’s home office, the door to which had always been kept locked. On impulse, she tried the door and it opened. She quickly moved inside, shut the door, and locked it. Had Russ somehow been inside or did housekeeping forget to lock it? Hopefully, Marla would be safe inside, at least for a while.

She expected the phone to be dead but thought that Jack had used a secret switch to disable it. She also knew of two concealed fire-resistant file drawers and a hidden safe. She remembered that he had one time told her that the combination of it was her birthdate. The young woman hoped to find something to help her out of this mess. It was easy to find the hidden files recessed into the floor by the desk, and he’d one time shown her how to raise them using a hidden switch under the desktop.

Inside, Marla found a file marked with the name of Jack’s estranged brother, and inside she found a sad tale of criminality to include rape, burglary, embezzlement and worse. Now she knew why Jack had felt his brother to be so dangerous. Had Russ been in prison and just gotten out? Later, after reviewing other documents, she began to suspect that Jack had been in fact murdered by his brother.
In the bottom file drawer, she found simple drawings of the house that showed his office with a hidden door to the nursery, and one to an armored panic room. That was also connected to the Master bedroom. She had hoped to find keys to her bondage, but there weren’t any. For now, she was stuck with being gagged, cuffed, and shackled, tottering along on painful heels.

At the Hospital where she worked, she wore Nurses mules, a Scrub skirt, and a white lab coat. Russ had put an end to her wearing any sort of pants shortly after his arrival. His seemed to delight in humiliating her.

Almost forgetting, she opened the wall safe and at first though it to be empty but inside a door in the bottom she found a pistol with two full clips with one inserted but the weapon was not chambered. and two explosive devices (Flash bangs). To Marla the barrel on the pistol looked like a cannon. Then she remembered that he’d taken her to the police range just after they were married and between him and an instructor, made sure she could shoot it and shoot it well. She’d almost forgotten. Now greatly encouraged, Marla set about getting to her two sleeping toddlers, and getting all of them into the panic room. The armoured door now locked, she set about getting her very dangerous abuser out of the house and dead if necessary. There was a phone in the panic room but with the ring gag in doubted that the emergency operator would have any patience with her. The Ring gag seemed to be locked in place in her mouth by a heavy leather strap with a lock at the back.
Marla remembered that her phone was in her pack either in the dining room or the bedroom. She wondered if calling emergency services and leaving the line open would work?

She did not feel brave enough to go searching in the house for her pack, even with the gun. Then she had the idea to call the nurses station where she worked to ask for help even if gagged. Surely one of the Nurses would have sense enough to respond correctly. The caller ID would let them know the call was coming from her home. Now Marla was wishing that she had previously set up some sort of nonverbal code. The land line phones in her area of the county could have been set up to text, now she was sorry she had not done it.

The panic room had screens showing cameras in several areas of the house, some were outside. The screen showing the Master bedroom showed that Russ was up, though she did not know how hung over he was or where he had gone. Marla wished that Jack had had the Architect specify many more of the cameras; making them somehow able to swivel.

Then she saw Russ pass through the kitchen and out into the garage.

Beneath the Camera screens was a small keyboard. One button said “Police”, and without hesitation, she pressed it, even without knowing exactly what it did. Another said “Fire” and she pressed it too.

Knowing that Russ was in the Garage, Marla quickly opened the panic room door and threw a flash bang out after arming it, not suspecting that it might cause a fire.

With the door shut again, Marla knew that she had done all she could. The noise wakened the children but they comforted rather easily.
The Emergency Services called her in the panic room, and she told them about Russ. Though, with the ring gag in her speech was barely understandable, and took several tries before the operator finally understood her.
He had fled in her car but would be apprehended within the week. When they arrived outside the panic room, she let them in and had to endure the embarrassment of them seeing her predicament. The fire department used bolt cutters on her gag and as soon as she could talk, Marla asked them to cut all of it off. She’d never worn heels and having worn them for days, decided to get some low ones to wear when she wanted to.

The Flash bang had started a small fire, but the Firemen were thrilled to extinguish with minimal damage.

At Russ’s arraignment, it came out that he and Jack had quarrelled, and Jack had fallen, hitting his head and killing him. She wondered where the story about the drunk driver had come from.

Russ would be charged with manslaughter, rape, and kidnapping. Marla hoped that he would be in confinement for a long time. It came out that Russ was intersex, and Jack had been unkind to him about that issue, leading to greatly reduced sentence for the manslaughter.
When Russ was moved to the institution to serve his time, without his knowledge a tracker was implanted in his hip. He thought he was getting various vaccinations. It would cost Marla a monthly fee to have him tracked and she was glad to pay it. She knew that Russ would be free someday and she wanted to know where he was.

Some erroneously believe that her mistreatment would cause her to be drawn to BDSM, but the truth was that she counselled for PTSD for a long time after. Would she ever date or even remarry? That chapter has not been written.

(Wakened from a dream around 2:00 AM. Wrote until around 7:00 AM. It’s 2:00 PM. I’m going to try to sleep)(Your old men shall dream dreams).

21st Century

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Taxonomy upgrade extras:

Briefing for next story

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

21st Century

By

Gwen Brown

This is sort of a briefing, or prequel for my next story, just to get people thinking.

When I was a child, we came from San Diego to Portland before I-5 was done. I can remember being halted in the Siskiyou Mountains, while crews were blasting to build it. We were the first owners after the original homesteaders, of a farm at Ladd Hill. That was the winter of 49-50 and first winter, we had about 3 feet of wet, heavy Oregon snow.

I’m not going into any of my TG stuff, but it was certainly present then. He’d have killed me if I had not learned to hide it right away.

The place was about half wooded and the rest brush land. I was very young and tiny but three boys and he cut all the brush down and burned it in the spring in piles half as big as a baseball diamond. We even had the Fire Department out one night because they were thinking we’d burned the place up.

In those days, it was common to hear B-36 and B-29’s growling their way up the sky from various airbases. There was Kingsley, down by Klamath Falls, and another near Salem, Oregon. One was at Portland, and another up near Tacoma, Washington called McCord. B-29’s had a tendency to blow up in mid air and one happened near us.

The B-47 was the first of it’s type but soon the B-52 came along and eventually replaced it. I don’t remember seeing gas fired, propeller driven Fighter planes around, but I do remember seeing a Sea Plane called a PBY once in a while and I fell in love with them.

Almost anyone knows the Fighter Jets better than I do. When the U-2 and then the SR-71 came along I thought we were well on the way to space, but in the last 70 years, it seems like we have screwed the pooch. Did Aliens more or less ground us, or are we just too stupid?

Lately, I have been looking into supersonic private Jets, and there is one that is due out around 2020 that will do Mach 1.6 at I think 100,000 feet and no sonic boom that will reach the ground. I’ve been watching the V-22 closely, hoping for more, but there seems to be some engineering barrier that keeps them timid. Though I hear that a lot of superior design is happening in Germany and Switzerland. I did see a four rotor “drop ship?” in the design stage.

Is it disappointing that the fastest chopper is not modern combat chopper but an old two rotor CH-47 Chinook, though recently several single rotor machines are barking at its heels.

So, what is a “drop ship”? Google gets very confused about that and wants to stick with a certain kind of shipping. If you are patient with google it eventually comes up with some very mean looking, non-rotor, things with huge combination Jet/Rocket engines.

So if we have some wars between now and 2050 will the Military demand and get the very swoopy, hot war ships like the gamers like to draw? Me thinks that most war monger nations will run out of money to wage war unless there is a major new funder. My guess is that before 2050 most of those expected to fight said wars will be too fat to do it.

A Bit of Filthy Lucre Perhaps?

Author:

Gwen Brown

Caution:

CAUTION

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Comedy

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Some Filthy Lucre Perhaps?

I thought that the world situation required a bit of insanely comic relief, and I'll admit to having had some very "head banging" things happen to me; all, erm mostly, without drugs or other intoxicants.

Years ago, perhaps in 2007, a friend asked me to go to a "Kink" festival with her, and being completely ignorant, I agreed to go. We drove to a place about 25 miles from home and pulled into the barnyard of a farm. I was astonished to find that the admission was $25 or free if we took off all our clothes. I was pre-op at the time and begged to keep my panties, which they allowed. So, we walked around, and I saw things that I had never even suspected could occur. There were people in chains being led about by their Masters, and a few "pony" people, and many other such like expressions of individuality I had never seen before. I was "bigly" impressed.

We happened upon a stark-naked man standing in front of a table who offered free spankings, and while my friend was not interested, she managed to convince me that I should try this. “It will do you good”, she said. Feeling very guilty due to several personal failures, I did not require much persuasion. Some of you have perhaps had such an experience?

I got up on the table and he proceeded to give me a very oily massage that was delicious. Later he started tapping me lightly with something he called a flogger, and then changed to a bamboo switch. It was so pleasant that eventually I lightly dozed. Suddenly, one of his taps felt quite harsh, vicious even, but then he changed back to the taps and then came more rubbing. Not even close to what was shared in “50 Shades …”, yes much better than that.

Not to bore you, I felt quite surprised to find that he’d been at it for over an hour when he finished! Yallah !!!

He informed me that I would have pleasant, giggly, thoughts about his spanking and the feeling of euphoria would last about two weeks. And, YES, I would be sleeping and waken in the middle of the night giggling, or be doing dishes and stop to giggle. Thankfully, I did not own a car at the time because I might have wrecked it during one of these episodes. Can you imagine driving along at 75 Miles Per Hour and suddenly being seized by a fit of the giggles?

Later I tried to find this man to purchase a “refill”, but to no avail. He had, sadly, disappeared completely.

Skip ahead to yesterday.

Unneeded distraction removed

I was sitting at my computer, working on a very intense Dragon story, when an unexpected stirring in my front bottom intruded. Yes, a complete surprise. I will admit to um self-pleasuring perhaps once a year, or perhaps twice, but no more mind you. Most certainly not!!!

This unbidden session went on for quite a long time, whilst I attempted to put rational words on paper; actually, the computer screen. Suddenly my body quivered uncontrollably. My eyes rolled back in my head, and perhaps I might have fainted for a moment, as feelings of divine euphoria flooded my synapses. I wakened as I was about to fall out of my chair. Perhaps it needs a seat belt should this happen again?

Today, I am cooking and cleaning to prepare for a visitor, but periodically being forced to stop and hold onto something as completely overpowering giggling washes through me.

At some time in the future, I might try that again, but right now I’m concerned I might break it or wear it out. Is that possible? If it did break would it be possible to ask a Doctor to like fix it? What is happening so reminds me of my previous experience in 2007.

Might I have another please?

Almost Captive In A Box

Author:

Gwen Brown

Caution:

CAUTION

Audience Rating:

Restricted Audience (r)

Publication:

Short-short < 500 words

Character Age:

Mature / Thirty+

Other Keywords:

GID ???

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

3/30/2024, 6:20 AM

Completely True Account.

Almost Captive In A Box

This is what I can remember of a completely true story that I have never written about or talked to anyone regarding the creepy people I met. It was so traumatic that I blanked it out until now.

This took place between 2005 and 2006 near Sherwood, Oregon. Later when I returned to make sure I was not remembering a hallucination, The place was gone, and tract houses had been built there.

It was right after my very traumatic divorce that I had a complete breakdown. I was on Craig’s list and saw an ad where they were looking for a slave. Answering the ad, I was given an address. I arrived at a single wide 60-foot-long mobile home in the late afternoon and knocked on the door. It was answered by a very rotund man about my height and invited in to a very smelly and garbage filled living room. Inside was an equally fat woman who was his partner. They were sitting on easy chairs and I think they told me to sit on the floor. In their ‘interview’, I was asked if I could clean their house up and do all the dishes. Then he told me that when I was not working, I would be chained and put in a locked box they had there. I was asked if I would let them pee on me and defecate on me. I think they said I would be gagged and not allowed to speak. The interview went on for some time and I sort of went into shock. The clincher was when I was told that my food would be their pee and deficant.

With the last vestiges of my will, I asked them if I could think about it and said I would return in a while to let them know my decision. I was on massive doses of legal prescription psychotropic medications, and they kept me calm. I should not have been driving but somehow managed to avoid any accidents.

I did not return that day and a year or two later, I did to see if I had hallucinated or something. In the last decade or so I had not thought about it until about 4:00 AM this morning woke up from what I thought was a nightmare. Looking back, I now believe that I was very lucky to have escaped. I could have easily been murdered or died from some illness caused by the filth in the trailer.

“Life is like a box of Chocolates. You never know what you are gonna get”.

Baby, Baby

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

This story is pure Animism. I did not even know what Animism was when I wrote it. Many Native Americans practice it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vMXuuYnoRdI

Baby, Baby

Gwen Brown

It’s been a dozen generations since this all started and none of the adults, or much later, even I ever expected the things that eventually happened. Within a decade in the mid-21st Century, we all came to a deeper understanding of Space and what might be out there. It rapidly became obvious that humanity had crossed the line and the things that kept us alive on earth were quickly failing. Very quickly we had to leave if we were to survive.

My parents and others, all the descendants of the originators, had been traveling among the stars in a Colony ship until it broke down. The Colony Ship, called Aspiration, left old Earth hundreds of years previously. They started building the ship in 2108, and would not actually depart Earth orbit until 2214. Aspiration was a hastily constructed deep space vessel, carrying only 680 people in crude hibernation, and with around 25 or so to fly the ship and finish building it. They’d waken various of those in hibernation when they needed a problem solved and then they’d go back to sleep. The hibernation pods consisted of two cylindrical tanks with 20 decks each. Each pod used its own power plant, with the ability to feed energy to the other pods and the rest of the ship. Hydroponics consisted of two more pods that grew vegetation, and water-based plants. The pods were attacked to the central frame like the cylinder of a pistol.

On their way out of the solar system, they stopped to lurk just retrograde of Jupiter’s passage, behind Jupiter in the same orbit, but ahead of the Trojan Asteroids that followed Jupiter but were within easy reach of the Shuttles. As they left Jupiter’s orbit, it must have looked quite odd because the slowly departing ship had a string of objects trailing behind it. They were kept out of the engine exhaust by matching crane and cable affairs that suspended them as equal masses on either side. The Asteroids became the source of raw materials to make the metals and other materials to finish hydroponics and living quarters for all the occupants, once they were wakened. At first, they also provided Reactionable mass but as they gained more understanding of a drive that I can’t explain, that was much less. Almost all the construction of the ship was metal, with things like plastic almost non-existent simply because they discovered no hydrocarbons along their journey. They used one of the larger Asteroids to set up their factory.

During that time, the research on the front shield finally yielded results that would hopefully prevent frontal impacts from objects they encountered in space. On especially large objects, power from all the power plants could be routed to the shield for a short time.

The group understood that Earth would be uninhabitable soon, so haste was the key word for them. A combinations of viciously hot summers and ice age like winters made life increasingly difficult. The numerous space facilities orbiting Earth and the Moon made an unauthorized and largely unfunded installation able to slip by without being noticed for a long time. They used scrap material, and sometimes pilfered equipment to build her. And a rag tag group it was. The Captain of the ship had only ever been Master on a small sea freighter. The medical staff included one aging MD and several Nurses. The list went on and on, but they all had the desire to live and to leave the planet while they still could. Very up to date robotic medical equipment helped so much. There were several very rich and connected supporters on Earth that provided help that was invaluable. Most were very old, so they did not bother to come on the trip. They also helped with a knowledge database that was more robust than anything ever built. It was much easier to procure very good equipment than people, though the propulsion system included parts from China, Indonesia and what was left of Africa. The propulsion from each of the engines was not the same, so they had to be close together and never finished, throttling systems had to be invented.

To make all this even more ludicrous, the project leader was an aging, and retired Electrician and Inspector named Judy Brown who was a post-operative male to female transsexual. That issue made her “unsuitable” because of not so subtle discrimination, to employ in most installations. She was serving beer to several of the scientific community at the Luna Orbital plant in a nondescript bar, when she began to answer questions that solved an issue they were having in the logistics unit in the water management system. It didn’t take long; a few well lubricated meetings, to eventually ask her to become the project manager. The caveat would be that her salary would be room and board and impossible working conditions with killingly long working hours. When these guys finally got around to popping the question, she laughed at them, and took her apron off, depositing it on the bar, and walked out with them trailing. She left her minimum scale wages unpaid; a week’s worth, behind.

Her uniform was a denim mini skirt and a big cotton T shirt. Judy could be seen in pants at times, but everyone eventually learned to keep away from her then, because wearing pants pissed her off. Eventually, Medical figured out that her cranky, implanted sexual organs had blood vessels that were blocked and that caused her hormones to go nuts. Once the blocked vessels were healed, her mood once a month was much better, but she still wore pants only if nearly forced into it. Judy was a very hands-on manager and she knew how to fix most equipment and the things she could not fix, she knew someone who could. Her manner with working people was wonderful, but she had a habit of pushing those just below her. Those above her hid.

As it developed, the lack of funding and the dedication of those involved made it imperative to invent systems that were much superior those that government controlled projects produced. It took the occupants of the Aspiration years to complete the construction required and to get the Hydroponics working correctly. Propulsion power was furnished by a reactance unit that was more sophisticated than previous Fusion or Fission equipment. Some of the more scientific technicians said that it seemed to reach into another dimension to gather energy. Even the Engineering people did not entirely understand how it was so efficient. There were independent power sources for the various functions of the ship such that by the time they accelerated out of Jupiter’s orbit and above the orbital plane of the solar system, there were 11 power plants of various sizes. The gravitational system was still cranky, and would remain so for the time being. As long as the toilets worked, they could get by.

Thus began their long journey.

Hundreds of years later, they had landed on a non-descript planet that at least had vegetation to gather material to repair their ship. At least it had a breathable atmosphere. Lots of volcanism and earthquakes made them want to get out of there.

I found her when I was 9. She looked like she was fresh born because part of the umbilical was still there though at the time I didn’t know what it was. Close by, I found a curious wet sack and some fluid that looked like blood. Where had she come from? There were only around 100 adults from the Colony ship and the 20 or so children who had been born planetside, so who had the baby? There was no other place to take her where she could live and be safe because anything else on the planet finding her might kill and eat her.

Small screen data sets were around, and Mom had one that she left in the hut and admonished me to use it to educate myself. The software was very good; even talking to me and unfortunately ratting me out if I did not study. So, not knowing what to do with a newborn baby I looked it up and followed the instructions. Basically, I was to use a string to tie it off short and cut the rest off.

Food had been scarce when I was born, but we were doing better now. Mom was very concerned about stunted growth in us children because most of us had nearly starved at first. Several of the males from the shuttle had somehow reverted to a primitive state, and wondered around, grunting and sometimes speaking incoherently. So far, they hadn’t been violent but who knows what they would do with a baby lying in the woods? Everyone but the little children were feverishly laboring to get the Shuttle repaired or provide food, and then get back onto our reason for landing here, and that was to find materials to re-provision and repair our ancient ramshackle colony ship.

They used one of the shuttles to search for what they needed to fix it when their shuttle crashed here. Mom had me early because of the crash. Dad was alive but he was so busy working that he never came here. Us children grew up with no supervision and eventually we older ones started taking care of the little ones. There were no diapers but we learned to keep the babies as clean as we could. Some of the younger women could breastfeed and we learned out to make a watered-down vegetable broth.

In the hut that my mom built against an embankment at the bottom of a hill, in back was a cave she dug out. It was my room and it was cool when the heat came and sort of warm when the cold came. Last fall, I was playing and digging in the back I found a little passage, and it was big enough that crawling down it was easy. The passage opened up into a bigger room that was pretty comfortable because warm, almost hot water ran through it in a little stream along one wall. The room, much larger than our hut, and was warm, and cozy. On the wall above the tiny creek there were softly glowing things that were either rock or lichen, I could not tell. I remember there was enough illumination to get around without falling, but not enough to sew or to do other work at first, but later we found ways to make the rocks glow more. They seemed to like water with anything organic in it poured on them.

So, now in the winter, I left the passage open and our hut was warmer and in the summer, I kept it shut to keep it cooler. My Mom was happy about my finding the tunnel, and later she was not so happy about my finding the baby. I named her Habibti because of my Mom’s, dozens of generations in the past, Arab background, which means “sweet heart”. A couple days after I found Habibti, I found Mom standing at my room and staring. I had fallen in love with my baby and her next words buoyed my spirits considerably. “You can keep her Jimmy, but you have to feed her, and take care her like a mother or the reverts might attack and take her and eat her. Drink this tea, it will help some. You will need it every day.” She said. Looking back, mom thought there might be a chance that I could lactate, but that could take time, perhaps too much time. She turned and started to walk away but then said, “I have to work all the time now to help make things the men need, so now you have to get all the food for this place. You know where I get the roots and gourds and fruit. You’ll have to figure out a way to kill prey because you are not big enough to kill what I do. I’d suggest you make a spear. You’ll need it to keep the men off you.” She then threw me a dagger. “You’ll need this.” She smiled when I snatched the tumbling knife out of the air by its tip. The dagger, a Jambiya, was beautifully crafted and from old Earth. It had been handed down for generations, and was mostly for ornamental purposes. Now it was pressed into use for very much less glamorous and practical service. I’d seen mother wear it on her thigh, over her coveralls. “Mom, what will you use to protect yourself?” She showed me a tiny tube with a handle on it. It was very illegal, but in our circumstances, no one objected. It would burn an arm sized hole in the largest animal, but the lightning like bolt would carry on for miles if you missed.

The cavern behind our hut quickly became sort of a community center because of the warm water. I bathed Habibti in the stream inside, and so did anyone with a baby, or on their period, or for that matter anyone who wanted to. Habibti and I sort of moved into the cavern along with many of the other children. It helped sanitation a lot because the warm spring dropped into a gravel bed and flowed out of the cavern, so it was inherently clean. In the future, some of the boys with time on their hands found the spring that fed it up in the hills not far away. They never did understand where the stream went after it left the cavern. There was a suspicious odor at times down in one of the ravines that had a stream running through it, though we never understood more.

Unless there were adults around, most of us wore no clothes, except to keep warm. Later it developed that we should wear something to cover our parts to keep the adults happier. When the girls started to develop, then they wore something on their breasts if they got big enough to hurt from not being supported. Covering their lower parts during their menses helped keep the mess down. In the winter, we all covered enough to stay warm, though it never seemed to get cold enough to make the “snow” the old’s spoke of. The summers were mild, with showers almost every day. The winters seemed OK, with a day of rain at times that gave way to either warm foggy or sunny weather.

We had landed in a broad valley with towering mountain crags on one side and low hills on another. The more adventurous of us had been across the hills to find a deep blue sea on a beautiful coast line. It was almost a day to get there if they moved at a near run. They quickly saw rather large Alligator like creatures with very long necks, so none of them approached the beach too closely. There had been warnings from the adults not to go to the beach, and now we knew why. Those who went usually spent the night high in trees. By now, they had figured out crude hammocks, and used various plant and animal hides to make crude, but warm clothing.

The craggy mountains on the other side seemed too imposing to explore. We did have maps and photos taken from the ship but right now other things were dominant.

There were several streams that ran through our area and we quickly learned to simply scoop arm length fish out of the water to bake over a fire, or to salt and dry for later. There were a few very large plant eaters roaming the area, and we had seen a couple giants who looked fearsome but even children could outrun them. They seemed to feed on what they could capture out of the creeks and scavenged dead animals. Mom explained to us that the physics of being a very large animal usually meant it moved more slowly.

Most of us were sort of feral children, so we learned and taught each other things. We children didn’t know the difference, but the adults felt that some strange things were happening, especially to the young. It was as if the planet was changing us in strange ways. Mom knew I could defend myself and hoped it was enough to keep the men that had genetically reverted off me. None of us children born here were old enough to remember where we came from so we did not know that we were developing skills and coordination that no child before us had. At the time, the theory was that something with this planet, that we had dubbed Endita, destabilized our genes. But at first all we knew, was that some men had changed. So, a whole new skill set developed among the children without the adults really knowing, and if they did, they felt our circumstances were too dire to pay attention because other things were more pressing. After the first two years, food got much easier because we knew what plants were safe and what was not. I followed mom, or she carried me, around as she gathered food. It was fearsome when she killed animals, especially those who intended to do the same to us.

No child before had ever experienced this planet and we would more have things happen as we came to puberty. Some of the older ones that developed before me just thought that their strength, speed and mental control were normal so no one talked about it much. One of the most important developments that happened to me is that I could make my spear go very fast, so I could kill animals that were pretty large, and my aim was nearly perfect. It wasn’t that I could throw so hard with my skinny arms, but something happened when I concentrated to make the spear accelerate, or something like that. Later, I might be so grateful if a predator of another kind attacked.

Several days later, a huge animal bore down on baby and I as we were digging roots. It had 6 limbs with the front pair being able to grip things but had no opposable thumb. He was almost on us, bellowing loudly, when I threw and much to my astonishment, my metal tipped, wooden spear went right through his head and the tip protruded from his rear. Later, as the animal was butchered, they found that the spear had somehow entered the spinal column and stayed there until exiting at the rear of the animal. He dropped immediately without even a death sigh; leaves and twigs hitting me in the face. I just dropped onto my now expanding butt and sat there dazed. Habibti cried a little but seemed to understand very quickly that everything was OK. Some other children must have heard the ruckus and came to see the cause. Seeing them I lost it, gasping and weeping so much that I upset baby again. Holding her in my arms felt so comforting and I calmed down very quickly after that, and would later find out that baby had calmed me with this little thing she does. The others around me quickly began to gut, skin and flay the beast. He would feed us all for a few days until the meat soured. Later, we would understand how to salt and dry meat to make it last longer. The adults had boiled the sea water to get what little salt we needed, but one of the kids, digging along a ravine found a wide vein of it, and it tasted better. Later one of the adults showed us how to salt meat and fish and how to sun dry it.

There was no paper and writing. We just survived and someone would die occasionally. Several of us died at first but that seemed to have stopped. We built a log wall around our group of homes by digging a ditch and then put poles in it upright and packed the soil. That mostly kept the huge animals out because they were just too stupid to push the wall down, though they could do it easily. Mom said the animals were similar to Earth dinosaurs, though I had never seen one of them. She told me that Earth scientists must have gotten got it wrong because they assumed there would be big predators, but here on Endita, the large meat eaters mostly just went around cleaning up the dead who had gotten too old or died by falling or some disease.

As the weeks and eventually years, wore on, the adults began to look tired and worn. By Mom’s account, Habibti began to show special faculties when she was about two. I was 14 and now called “Jenny” and by then and had breasts to feed Habibti, I think the tea that mom gave me every day, and special things about this planet made it happen. I didn’t understand it as abnormal but my boy junk was almost gone and in another year, I would begin to fully function as a woman. Breastfeeding was so fulfilling and never having been an adult male, diverting my path to become a female felt normal. None of us children know how this happened and that it was not the usual course of a human child. In fact, the preadolescent of us was no longer even Homo Sapiens. When the adults found out, they would call us Homo Spacia.

One day 8-year-old Habibti and I were out gathering food, she was becoming very helpful and a great companion. We had just dug up some roots that were particularly tasty when cooked. I was sorting through some undergrowth when I heard a commotion behind me. When I turned around, my knife was already in my left hand and the spear was in my right hand. One of the revert men had Habibti cornered but she did not seem afraid. I was ready to throw the spear, but she turned and said, “No Mom”. Lately, the reverts had become very violent and predatory, and a few of us had been attacked. Forming teams, we hunted those within a day’s walk and either killed them or ran them off.

As I watched she looked at the revert and he seemed to calm down and eventually stood there calmly as she softly spoke to him. She was making tiny movements with her hands and in reaction his head tilted and turned strangely. “Now, you can stay and help us or you must leave and never come near us again.”

“I stay and work” he said calmly.

“Do you know where we sleep?”

“I know, I follow many days”.

“Then, please pick up this bundle and take it back there, and put it in the front, then come back here?”

“Yes, I do this”.

After he left, Habibti turned to me and said, “I can easily control the reverts, but not you.” It would feel like a violation of your person. You found me and cared for me and are my Mom. I love you too much to ever hurt you.”

Habibti walked over and we hugged. It was then I knew that she was a special girl. We’d done genetic tests on her and it seemed likely that her Mother was one of the women that went missing. We did not know how to test for the sort of changes that we children were experiencing.

As the years passed, we found that most of us children had special qualities, many of them common to each other and others completely unique.

When I was 25 and Habibti was 13 she came to me and said there was someone special. We talked and agreed that they would wait a while to make sure it would last before they did it. She and he would build a hut close to ours, and they would dig a passage into the same cavern that we used. I hoped that we would always be close. Her guy was Nick, a young man that I had cared for communally when he was little. He even called me Mom like Habibti, but for him it was merely a sign of respect and endearment.

We walked out together to find my Mom and tell her. “Oh, honey you are so young, are you sure?”

“We think so, and Mom has asked us to wait a while to be sure.”

“That’s really wise”. I could see a tear on her cheek and Mom just stood there a moment.

I said, “We are going to go find Dad and tell him.”

“Oh, I am not so sure that is a good idea sweet heart.”

“But Mom, this is really important and Dad should know”.

Mom seemed to be really set against our going but suddenly calmed and acquiesced to the idea.

As our little group walked toward the shuttle, I looked at Habibti. “You did that to Mom, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Habibti was smiling when she said it, “but I would never hurt anyone and never do it to you.”

“Did you do that to the revert man?”
“OH, he was much more difficult to change, and him I changed a lot. I would be very reluctant to do that to any of us”.

We got to the shuttle and found it larger than we thought it would be because we seldom went there, so forgot its size. We walked up the ramp and Mom opened the hatch. I’d never been even close to the shuttle and when we walked into the scene of complete chaos there I didn’t understand what I was seeing. Mom just gasped and started softly crying. She sank onto a box sitting there. Dad was just sitting up in the crew bay looking like he was completely lost, and none of the crew seemed to be doing any better.

Dad said, “We just can’t get it to work and don’t know why.”

Habibti and Nick looked confused at first and then Habibti began to speak softly and waving her hands in that funny little way. Dad was the first to seem to recover a little and Habibti walked over to him; actually, she seemed to float a little. Dad got up and walked her over to one of the library screens and showed Habibti some things. To my great astonishment, she sat down and slowly at first began to use the machine’s keyboard, but then stopped. It looked like she was just staring at it but later, as I walked around to see the screen, we would see that she was drawing information directly from the storage unit and probably as fast as it could work, Mom said. Usually, a non-keyboard connection took a lot of training and was exhausting to the operator.

After what seemed like hours, she stopped and walked over to me and my parents. I am tired, and Nick and I need to rest. If it is acceptable, we will use one of the crew quarters. Mom, can stay here and learn how to help them or do you want to go back to our home? I am having to learn their letters, alphabet, language and science, and doing that has me very tired so I must eat then sleep.

I was overwhelmed with the change that happened to Habibti in such a short time. Later I would learn a truth that was both wonderful and heart breaking at the same time. As I walked back to the hut, the young ones that I encountered seemed sad and exhausted and those who would talk would only say that Habibti was very tired and needed rest. Was Habibti even more special than the rest of us children? Then I smiled and giggled softly because at past age 25, I still thought of myself as a child. Later it would become clear that we really were like children and would be for years to come.

When I got to the hut revert Tom was sitting outside and seemed sad. He too said that Habibti was tired and he was sorry. After that, he got up and walked off into the woods.

The next morning as I walked back to the shuttle, I noticed revert Tom in front of me, walking toward the shuttle. The walk took us a good while. As we approached it was clear that most of us that had been born on Endita were there also and more were coming. I talked to some of them, and they taught me that many of them were talking to Endita and she was teaching them. It was clear to me that my own experiences were similar to theirs, but I was not of the feeling that She was teaching me, why not?

As I voiced my hurt that Endita was not communicating with me, one of the other girls was talking quietly to me, and a light buzzing feeling began in my head. The girl told me that since I had changed gender, it took longer for my communication to open up to Endita, and she told me it would happen in the soon future.

In the Shuttle, Habibti was animatedly talking to Mom and Dad, and as I got closer it was clear to me that Dad was much encouraged from the previous day. As I listened, it became clear that Habibti felt that the much of the power to the shuttle had failed even before it crashed. Actually, the crash was not bad piloting or a tunnel cave in.

Habibti wanted to take part of the propulsive unit out and take it to a place to fix or “heal” it. The crew felt that getting too close to that part was far too dangerous and were not going to allow it, but when Habibti called to three of her friends, they came in with her and went into the machinery bay. I could hear them all speaking softly and when they came out, their hands were swaying like Habibti’s did once in a while. The sick part was suspended between them, just floating. There seemed to be a transparent ball surrounding it and they walked it outside and down the ramp. They stopped at the bottom of the ramp and spoke to the rest of the children, then the four of them walked the piece off into a ravine that led in a direction that none of us had ever explored.

Mom and I had followed them out and down the ramp and I was going to follow them, but one of the girls told me it might be too dangerous. What? My own baby Habibti was taking a risk that everyone felt was too dangerous for me? I wanted to go anyhow but Mom and another girl held me while I wept and when I calmed down they stayed close to comfort me. While we were waiting, many of the others began to discuss what they could do to help. Mom and I walked over to that large group. “All of the crew are so discouraged, they won’t be able to make the shuttle fly again unless we help them”, Mom said.

There weren’t many words exchanged but then most of the group started speaking softly, and waving their hands in slow, low circles. Slowly and with purpose they spread out to form a loose circle around the shuttle. The ground vibrated a little and then the shuttle began to rise out of the tunnel, straighten to the horizontal and move off to a flat place where it once again sat on the ground.

The whole crew of the shuttle came running out when they felt the shuttle straighten and then the slight bump when it sat down. They were so astonished, wondering how this could have happened? We all slept that night under the shelter of the shuttle with the shield on and them pumping some of the heat from the power unit down. In the morning, the sky was overcast and it was raining slowly. Everything seemed so dismal. After more than 25 years on the surface of Endita it seemed the stranding was suddenly going to be over if the others could somehow heal the propulsion unit. And, yet we knew that the mission had changed even if everyone on the ship in orbit had survived.

Later that day, the others returned with the power unit in the middle of a heavy downpour, so heavy in fact that we did not see them coming until they called to us from the edge of the murk. The power unit had a light blue glow that the crew had never seen in any power unit. It only took a few minutes to put it back in place and then the four who escorted it came out. They looked near to collapse and some of them looked burned. I ran over to Habibti and asked how she was. “Mom, I am so ill that I can barely stand. Mom, help me, please?

This time all of us took Habibti and the others back to the ravine, carrying them between us. The path descended into a cavern and the trail went deep until we came to a place with glowing walls, and a pool of molten something, and we could not tell what it was. The whole group but I began to cry out to Endita to save the burned children and for a long time it did not seem like she responded. How could I not be a part of this? How could I be made to sit idly by and let my little Habibti suffer or even die?

Habibti seemed very weak but as she laid down, I heard her cry out in anguish. I quickly scrambled to her side and laid her feverish head in my lap. This was too much and I wept for her. She was so young, but smart and energetic, how could this be? Not knowing if I could also talk to Endita, I cried out to the planet, asking for help. I started to get a strong feeling of confusion from the planet and then one of the children perhaps, started talking to Endita; explaining human knowledge and physiology as much as she understood. Then, when there were questions between them, Sarah, the child started speaking to Endita about the human knowledge base on the shuttle and how to get into it and cautioning her not to make it work too hard or it would break.

Endita, as a living planet, had intelligence beyond any known measurement, but her lack of knowledge made her seem childlike. Then, much to everyone’s surprise, Endita went silent; as if she were not there. Later we would hear that the computer system on the Shuttle went crazy, and then started streaming back and forth from the orbiting Colony Ship for days.

On the morning of the third day, Endita was back with us. “I am sorry to have left you. I was absorbing knowledge and postulating a solution.” Endita’s much more mature vocabulary as she “mind talked” surprised us until we understood that with her access to the knowledge library on the Colony ship, she likely knew more than anyone here.

I could feel the children’s joy first and then what amounted to their warmly embracing Endita, or at least as much as you could do it in your own mind. I didn’t feel as connected as they but very soon it was clear that Endita intended to help us all, and all those born on this planet were her children. In the coming days, we would learn that it was accidentally Endita that caused the breakdown of the shuttle simply because her communications were on a band that was destructive to Human space propulsion systems. Communications? Who was she talking to? The answer was a shock to all of us, something we would learn much more about in the future.

As it developed, Habibti and her companions came out of the cave a few days later, looking much better and with a subtle glow about them, especially Habibti. When she and her boyfriend came together I could almost see sparks of happiness between them. Briefly, I wondered what their children would look like.

Endita simply stopped communicating in the energy band that was so destructive to the space engine on the shuttle, and a test flight revealed that it worked much better than when it had been built.

Mom and Dad were together again, and for a while they tried to “parent” both Habibti and I until I gently reminded them that I had just turned 26. Habibti was 14 now and felt she had a life mate, Nick, though her and he planned to wait for a while, so they could have fun without children.

As the days wore on, we all talked to Endita, and the leaders of the Colony ship through a data link. Eventually, it became clear that the children born here would not continue with the ship. Their parents could stay or continue the journey to a habitable planet. Endita felt it would be too unhealthy for her to allow human industrialization and huge populations. Eventually it would be clear that any sort of use of fossil fuels could not happen. Solar power could be used but not manufactured here. The primitive state of Endita was required for her survival.

In her conversations with her neighboring special entities, mostly meaning other planets, she and her friends located an asteroid belt with the materials needed to resupply the propulsive materials of the Colony ship. As the conversation continued, Endita was astonished with the inefficiency of the engines on it. So, in what seemed like a risky, even terminal maneuver, the huge Colony ship was grounded in a meadow some distance from our habitation. The ship was not built to withstand the forces of gravity, so we were very worried. Amazingly, Endita extruded soft soil supports for the vessel to rest upon as repairs were done.

Rather than risk the health of any of the humans, Endita used her own gravitational influences, working with the humans in safe suits to help overhaul and redesign the engines on the ship, plus the power sources for the environmental facilities. All this work took a couple decades and in the meantime, those in stasis were brought out, conscious for a year or so to have some enjoyment and to gain further education at the hands of those that knew the new knowledge that Endita and the scientists had compiled. Those who continued the journey to colonize other worlds would know to look for sentience in the bodies they encountered and to have respect for it. In return, many of the planets encountered could safely support humans in a sort of symbiotic and cooperative way.

I was in my Fortieth year when the Colony ship was back in orbit, and most of the occupants who would be continuing the journey were once again sleeping. Mom and dad had decided to stay on here on Endita, with her blessings and a small science station. As it developed, planetary communication was instantaneous. The largest issue was gaining the awareness of the humans at both ends. At first the travelers made use of it until fears developed that huge industrial combines would sweep in and devastate the area. After that realization, the communication stopped since it was deemed too unsafe for the sentient planets.

Unbeknownst to the humans, Endita shared what she had learned with other sentient planets, and they developed plans to send expeditions back the way we had come; clear back to Earth, our planet of origin. The journey would likely take a very long time, but the intention was to first educate the occupants, then to make them aware of the pain they had inflicted. If a change in conductance could not be brought about, then to exterminate those populations. Endita could not and would never share the plan with humans.

Along the way, those headed for the region of space that Endita occupied were deflected or exterminated. Happily, they could be deflected almost all the time. Each expedition they encountered got a hidden program in their computing and navigational equipment, the purpose of which was to monitor their location and activities, and to detect encounters with other sentient beings along the way.

For thousands of years, Homo Sapiens thought it was the dominant sentient life form of the Universe. Would they ever understand that was not so?

Balmoral

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Mature / Thirty+

TG Themes:

Reluctant

TG Elements:

Appliances Attached

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

If you are a Veteran of recent Middle Eastern Military action, this might be mildly triggering, but I doubt it. This story has Muslim, Middle Eastern culture in it, but it is not about Islam. Lots of Middle Eastern folk are Christian, Yazidi or not religious at all. This is about an American War Veteran, and a family of Middle Eastern descent. I am hoping that it is romantic and somewhat funny. It is set in the future, near the middle of the 21st century, and might be mildly prophetic. Sometimes the most fun and the greatest reward comes from the oddest places. Enjoy.

Some of you know that I spent 7 years deeply immersed in Islamic culture, and my Arabic is just awful, but certain speech patterns have become firmly imbedded in my English. Most of the time I am not conscious of this. It is difficult to write a story like this without that surfacing at times.

The story idea came from looking at the plans to a “Balmoral” 12-bedroom mansion which is not like the one in Scotland. It contains a mere 20,000 Square feet, while I have no idea of the size of the one in Scotland. Someone told me that if your own life is not satisfying, then write one that is. I hope that you like this.

At some 13,000 words, I will concede that this is a bit large for a chapter, but with things as they are now, I was concerned that if I split it, something untoward might happen.

Balmoral

Gwen Brown

After all the business with my divorce was finished, I had enough to live on, with no extra, and I was bored. It was OK going back to work if I could find something that was low pressure and not full time. Looking at the bulletin board at the library, I happened upon a house-sitting position, but it was in the deep south and after dealing with my own family, and their condemnation of “Tranies”, I did not want to see any more of that sort. Part of my family were down there, decided not to answer that ad, but it gave me the idea of going to that web site to see if something else of interest was there. After looking at several ads online over the next week, I found one in remote wheat country in Central Oregon.

I’d loved that Alpine mixed wood and wheat land when I had passed through there, but could never take time to stay.

The ad included a picture and description. The place looked like a huge mansion and the ad said it had some 12 bedrooms. It was on 16,000 acres of mixed Wheat, cattle and forest land. It was only about 120 miles up the Interstate, so I decided to drive it to spend some time. Two thirds of the trip was on Interstate Highway, and then there was a leisurely drive on a two lane road in rolling, partly wooded alpine hills. Despite it still being only March of 2045, the roads were bare. When I got to the address, the driveway was gated, and the gate closed. I sat there in my car for a minute, deciding where to go next, when a pickup rolled up to the gate, which opened on his approach.

The driver looked friendly enough but did not ask what I wanted. As he rolled out, he said, “Go on in and look around. He is not there now. When you are done and want to leave, just drive up to the gate and it will let you out.”

“I just drove out here to look around and ask about the house-sitting position. Is there anyone to talk to?” I said.

“You were expected. He traced you the minute you got on his web site, and he followed your phone here. The front door will be unlocked until 7:00 PM. If you want the position, just email him. He’s in Europe and wants to stay there for a while.” With that he put the ancient Ford in gear and drove off.

The fact that my potential employer had monitored me was no surprise. Most people just assumed that someone was watching, and my being once Military assured that someone was looking on. After all this was 2045. More than half the Autos in the city were now electric, and most were monitored, but conventional internal combustion engines still largely persisted out in the country. The big Dams still fed power to the city, but there was talk of breeching them to boost fish population. It was now common to be monitored through your Cell Phone or car where ever you went now, and few had any objection. Small scale nuclear power plants were increasingly being used in dwellings and small-scale industry. One about the size of a clothes washer put out about 45,000 watts, which more than supplied the average home. They needed to be refueled about every 5 years.

This felt so surreal, but I had a feeling about this, and with little to lose, I decided to give this a try to see what happened. I had no idea how strange my life was about to become.

Now that I could get in, I supposed there was no reason to not at least have a look. It seemed like a long way in there and by the time I came out of the woods and saw the Mansion, it was just shy of 3 miles from the road. The stone appearance of the place was overpowering, and it seemed to be almost a castle. About a quarter mile away were huge out buildings, I assumed they were for farm business. It felt almost presumptive to park in front of the Mansion. Perhaps there was a servant’s entrance?

The whole of the outside, that I could see, was stone, and it looked really old, though I knew it wasn’t. Inside, with all the drapes drawn and the lights off, it seemed far too dark, so I opened drapes and turned on lights as I went. Most of the floors were solid wood, with rolled out carpet in places. The kitchen was in back, and it was huge, with gas fired commercial stoves and ovens. There were three huge refrigerators, a central counter, several sinks and even a generously sized breakfast nook, though it looked like the bar around the kitchen could easily seat a dozen people.

The whole house seemed to be furnished with the basics, to include a pool table and a heated pool. The water in it was tepid, so I supposed it was shut down. It had taken me almost 3 hours to tour the place. I found the contract laid out on a small table in the entry. The kitchen was fully furnished and even had some canned goods and non-perishables in the refrigerator. The Bathrooms all had towels and the Master bedroom even had some men’s clothing. I was going to shut off the lights, but looking at the switches, they were the type that was used on automatic lighting systems, and yes, some of the first rooms I had entered were already dark.

By the time I left, I was in love with the place and hoped that I could get the owner to hire me. The gate dutifully opened for me and closed when I left. The drive home was filled with daydreaming about what working there might be like. I came back into Portland well after rush hour, in the midst of a downpour, just like I liked it.

After that, life seemed like a whirl wind. On his web site was an email, a phone number and a skype account. To start things off, I emailed him, telling him of my availability. Later, I was in the kitchen, when the skype went off. Rushing to my computer, I answered it to see a 30ish looking man staring back at me. He had a full head of short black hair, a strong chin and cheek, and blue eyes. He looked Spanish or Arab, and toe curling handsome. I was not expecting his call, or so soon, but was thankful that I was dressed and properly coifed. Even though I was neither Christian or a good Muslim, I still dressed very conservatively.

He’d obviously investigated me, as was evidenced by the man who met me at the gate and his questions. He told me that he worked in computers and finance, and his business was keeping him in Switzerland for the time being. “I want a long-term house-sitter, perhaps for years and will hold your apartment for 2 months if you will go up to the farm and give it a try. You’ll be the one in charge of the Mansion, and I’m mailing you a notarized letter of permission to exercise any and all legal authority there. You’ll actually have legal authority over the whole farm, but you don’t need to be involved unless Jose or Frank ask you for help, and they are both quite capable.”

His voice was commanding, and I felt hypnotized by it. Though I knew that I was being silly, it felt like this man could easily have his way with me.

Our conversation went on for nearly two hours, him detailing my duties and permissions. He expected me to live in the apartment on the second floor of the west wing, and to see to it that the rest of the Mansion was kept presentable. My own wages were to be extremely generous and he’d manage the taxes, and I was to have a large budget to see that the various tasks were completed. He had a Janitorial company in on Tuesday and Wednesday and the rest of the time I would be alone. I would not need to be involved in their billing and payment, but If I saw a problem, to let him know. What that really meant is that my email would go to his people and they would contact him if they saw a need.

I had the very brief impulse to tell him of my past but resisted it.

By the time we finished, I was thinking about my luggage. I’d clean out the perishable food in the refrigerator, and do the laundry today, and tomorrow I’d load the car, put my bike on the back, and head out.

When I pulled out of the garage, the sky had opened up to a very chilly downpour until I cleared the mountains, about 60 miles. I reminded myself that it was the first week in March. I turned off the freeway under partly sunny skies and began the climb up to the rolling hills where the mansion was located. I was within a half hour of it when the road began to be covered with snow from last night. Very soon I was driving in a half foot of it and it made the surrounding countryside just beautiful. Thankfully, the Tyres on my little car were almost new, on my middle-aged Subaru AWD. Nevertheless, the drive was somewhat exciting. I had noticed that the indicated elevation was now plus twenty-five hundred feet.

As soon as I pulled up to the gate, it opened for me. I would have to ask the owner about that. I most certainly did not want that gate opening for everyone. I would later find out that the cattle manager had been made aware that I was coming and watched for me on the video network. When I arrived at the Mansion, the garage was open, and the man I had met before motioned me to pull in.

His name was Frank, and he asked me if I remembered him from the first time I came up? He handed me his card and then said that I would seldom see him, that he had a place down the road. He told me that Jose, the irrigation manager would be around but that would be seldom also. I was to contact either one of them if I needed anything, telling me that the contact numbers were next to the phone in the Kitchen.

The apartment in the west wing, second floor was just lovely and was a large one bedroom, with kitchen and sitting room, and full bath with Jacuzzi. There were three other apartments in that wing, one like mine and two smaller ones. All had full baths. There were also four apartments on the second floor of the east wing.

I’d brought the basic groceries like milk, eggs, bread and butter, and put those away. Much to my surprise, the Queen-sized bed was already made up, and by the fragrance, it appeared to have been laundered recently. I’d also bought some frozen dinners to eat until I had gotten organized.

My life settled into a leisurely routine in the next weeks, one that was quite enjoyable. I examined the whole house and decided that the laundry room should be three times as big. I’d brought my own computer and found that the internet connection was very good. There was a room in the east basement that must have been the contractor’s office, and there I discovered the plans to the home. He’d built a Balmoral style Castle of two full floors, and had two, four story turrets with roof top balconies on top of each. The Mansion had 12 bedrooms and an elevator next to the laundry.

I settled into an easy routine that was comfortable to me. On Mondays and Thursdays, I tried to examine the entire Mansion to check for problems. Mostly I checked for dust and cleanliness. The owner, I still did not know his name, other than Ahmad, had decided to have food delivered to the main kitchen, and he admonished me to eat from that, not to spend my own money in shopping in Condon. We compromised with me still able to bring in fresh fruit and vegetables. He was careful to tell me that I was not being confined to the ranch, he merely wanted to make my life easier and make sure I was safe. He was starting to endear himself to me and it seemed unavoidable. It had been a long time since anyone had voiced concern for my welfare, and I found myself enjoying it. Considering my past experience with Arab Men, the good ones were either very nice, slightly controlling and protective, or they were right abusive bastards, with those in between. Though I still didn’t know much about him, not even his full name, but I was strongly suspecting him to be good Arab.

Still I kept at least a half tank of gas in my car, and a change of clothes and some food and water in it.

As time went on, I felt more confidence in him. I’d let my apartment back in Portland go, and gotten rid of almost everything. I did make a quick trip to Portland to pick up my Camera things and my silly little 80mm telescope. Because of my living arrangements, I was saving, what seemed to be an obscene sum each month. The snowy days had given way to more spring like ones, and one day I got my bike out, doing the usual pumping of tyres and such. It took some searching but eventually I found my riding gear, and water bottle. It was almost 3 miles out to the gate, and along the way I passed some gravel lanes that seemed smooth enough to ride on if I changed my tyres to larger ones. The ride was quite pleasant and gave me the minimal exercise I needed.

One night I was talking to him. When I queried him, he revealed that his father was half Saudi. He said his Father’s wife was an American girl from California who did not convert to Islam, though lived in KSA for about 15 years until his father died. Ahmed’s father had taken strong steps to protect his wife, Gloria, but sadly when he died, Saudi law required her to leave. Knowing this would happen, Gloria’s husband had already purchased her a place in Switzerland, so that is where Gloria, Ahmed and his little sisters, Hanna and Hala went to live. Ahmed was the only one of the children who had not married. Hanna and Hala were both happily married and living in Switzerland. I would find out later that Ahmed’s father had been quietly liquidating his properties in KSA, and Ahmed knew that he did not trust his family very much.

I had a feeling that there was much more to his story, but I did not press him. I was a few years older than Ahmed and because of my own checkered past, would not be marrying, I was sure of it. I was really starting to look forward to his calls, usually just after lunch on Thursday, because of the 9-hour time difference between here and Switzerland. At first, if I missed his call, then he’d leave a message and often call the next day around the same time.

Ahmed and I had talked about my bike rides and I told him that I planned to drive into Portland, or The Dalles to either change my wheels or to get a proper trail bike, but I did not know when. He seemed interested in the conversation, but I could sort of see his wheels turning, but did not think he would take independent action. My contact with Arab men had been mostly negative, and I had killed a few. I tried not to think about that because I wanted that part of my life to be well over.

There were several minor wars around 2030, and that seemed to finally put ISIS and their likes completely down. I was heavily involved in them. We knew that Iran had Nukes and they got so fed up with the Saudis, that they swore they were going to reduce KSA to ash if things did not change. It seemed like the admonishment had not worked, and then there was a huge explosion in an uninhabited area south of Riyad. Then the Cleric of Iran got on TV and said, “You have tormented Persia for almost 1500 years. This stops now, or we will destroy you.” That greatly subdued the unruly Saudis. America was frankly strapped for cash now and paying a lot more for Iranian oil than they wanted to.

Israel tried to make a fuss, but the Iranian leader said, “Jerusalem is not immune to Nuclear Weapons”. That ended the conversation. This was no surprise to me. Having been in Israel during a deployment, in my off time, I made use of the tour services. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that the whole of the mount under Al Aqsa Mosque was filled with tunnels, and it would be so easy for Shia Muslims to tuck a Nuclear Warhead away down there. I’d been in some of these tunnels and it was obvious to me that there was room for many more.

After I got back to America and discharged, out of guilt or PTSD I began to study Islam and that ended my marriage. I was very messed up. My X took the kids and moved to California, taking most of my discharge compensation. Thankfully, what she couldn’t touch was enough for a Captain to live on. It had been 5 years since I had heard from them and after I tried once and got threatened with a stalking claim, gave up. I went seriously downhill after that. About that time, my shrink decided that it would be a wonderful idea for me to start living as a woman, and the drugs they were feeding me didn’t help me to decide against that. Along the way, they “treated” me with something similar to Electro Convulsive Therapy, and something where they put tiny wires in my brain. Nothing bothered me when they were done.

In slightly over a year, I was in skirts and post-surgical, hardly even remembering my bloody combat past or many male thoughts for that matter. While reading the DSM, I saw that what I had was supposed to be cured with surgery, therefore, according to their book, I no longer needed the drugs and told my shrink so. She wanted to keep me on the drugs, so I told her that she could either help me get off them, or I’d stop cold turkey. After some heated negotiation, she agreed to help me. In the 2030s they did a very good job of making T folk unreadable, especially if they were combat Veterans.

Those damned drugs were powerful, and it took over a year for me to begin to feel right. As their effects wore off, I got the horrifying feeling that SRS was not what I should have done. By the time I decided that it was not, it seemed too late to change back. So, in the absence of anyone close to me in my life, I resolved to stick it out and make the best of things. Because of my own rambunctious nature, the relationship with the military shrink sort of terminated its self.

I tried volunteering and religion, and both will find ways to discriminate against you that you hadn’t thought possible. I even spent a few years as a female Muslim, and I can say with considerable authority that “those bitches can be witches”. Even now, with all the losses and war trauma, the guilt was killing me and thinking of myself as a Muslim seemed to ease things a bit. Sorry, I got off track.

This all led me to where I was today.

The very next afternoon, I heard a truck coming up the drive, and wondered how he got in. It was then that I began to suspect that there was more going on than I knew of. As I later learned, one of Frank’s tasks at the ranch was to watch over me and protect me from a distance. Ahmed had gotten in touch with his people and they made arrangements for a bike shop to send a truck from The Dalles, and then he’d let Frank know to let them in.

When the truck got to the door, I greeted the driver and he said he had been instructed to fit me for a light trail bike or change up the wheels on my own. I quickly decided to just get a new bike with front and rear suspension and trail tyres. He quickly sussed to the idea that I would not want a bike with a tall center bar, and that was a problem at first, but the rest was normal for him.

While he built my new bike, I ran inside to get dressed for a ride. House inspection would have to wait for the next day!

I came back out and he had me mount my new bike. The adjustments took about an hour, and then I rode it around the Mansion. I wanted the handlebars higher because of my semi-bionic back, and Right leg and then it was all good.

They hadn’t amputated my leg but put little enhancements in my knee and ankle, that held everything steady and added some power in awkward positions. The actuators and power pack were in my leg. I had a little pad that went under my mattress and charged everything when I slept. I never even thought about it. They replaced my blown out right eye with a little something that let me see at night and estimate range very effectively. I could now see colors as good as a woman. Fortunately, the regulation hearing protection saved my right ear.

He packed up his equipment and then I chased him to the gate. I spent another hour or so just riding and exploring. Down one of the lanes through the woods, I found a runway and hanger. Wow, did he have a plane? Would he let me fly it? I’d qualified in civilian choppers but wasn’t good enough for the war hawks. For them there was a “melding” with your own reflexes that was uncanny. No, there is no plug on the back of my neck. When I looked into the window, the Hanger was empty, and that killed my mood for a while. I rode from the hammerhead out to the end of the runway, and it seemed quite long. I did not know for sure, but it felt like he could land quite a large plane there. I fooled around for a while longer and then started for home after I noticed that the Sun was getting much lower.

For the first time, when I put my new bike in the garage, I looked around a bit. The extravagant structure was two, three car, garages face to face with a covered center bay, and attached to the mansion. Actually, it was right under my apartment. I had never used the garages, simply leaving my car and now bike(s) in the middle because there was a huge door to close it off from the weather. There was a Land Rover, a UTE, and a golf cart on one side. On the other sat a very nice Mercedes Limousine, a 2020s era Audi r-8, and the last bay was empty.

I really wanted to look at the r car, and much to my surprise it was unlocked with the keys in it. I didn’t dare to take it out but sitting in it and looking around, I found a brief case on the passenger floor. Of course, I snooped, what do you think? OMG! He was a partner in Dubai Holdings! His name was Ahmed bin Salomon, plus some other names, as is the Arab custom. A member of the house of Saud!!! From my previous reading I already knew that he was worth several billion dollars. What had I gotten myself into? I had no idea that I was now working for him!

I quickly closed up the brief case and put it back where it was in shock! What was I involved in? Did he run some sort of evil organization? I thought briefly about getting in touch with some buddies in the Military and having him investigated but decided to hold off.

I don’t remember getting into the house or going to my apartment. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in front of my computer and staring at Ahmed’s face. Nancy, are you alright, he asked me? He looked as if he had been sleeping. His voice seemed to lure me back to the land of the living.

“Ahmed, what can I do for you?” I said. I did not recognize my own voice and did not remember calling him.

“Nancy, you called me, are you alright?”

“I’m so sorry Ahmed, I was snooping and I found out who you are.”

He looked at me for a long minute, and then said, “Does it really make any difference?” “I know who you are also and have known from the beginning.” He said to me. “I wanted you around for all your talents, not just the ones we talked about.

“How can you know who I am and not hate me?” I asked numbly.

“My dear Nancy, we each have something that we are ashamed of and would not wish others to know.” He said gently.

By now I was softly crying and then broke into full on sobbing. I hung up and went to soak in the Hot Tub in the basement. It was very late when I went to bed, and the next morning just as the sun was rising, I heard a Jet pass very low over the Mansion. Jumping out of bed, I ran to the windows in the West turret and could see a plane approaching and his landing gear was down! Oh My Gosh! It couldn’t be! Could it?

Now, in a near panic, I ran back to my apartment, through the shower, and got dressed. My wet hair! What was I to do? I was not behaving like a very bloodied combat veteran but didn’t care. I grabbed the first thing that my hands touched, an old, very comfortable, light blue Abaya and a snood to cover my wet hair. I’d just put on some slippers and was running down the stairs when I heard a car pulling up to the front door!

When I opened the door, it was to see Ahmed coming up the front steps. I felt breathless and confused and contrite and repentant. Old habits die hard and when I was a child and knew I was about to be beaten, my hands covered my back side. I stood there petrified, with my hands behind me, as he came to stand in front of me.

“Oh my gosh Nancy, you had no need to be so upset. That brief case in the r car was a bit of trickery. It was a trap and was intended for someone else.” He said.

“You what? Huh, I don’t understand”. I intelligently sobbed.

“Yes, I had someone here who was a thief and he was supposed to find the money in the case”.

“Money? I did not see any money in the case.”

“Oh, come with me woman.” He said firmly, grasping my hand. “I will show you something.” We went out to the garage and got into the Audi r car. He had me get into the driver’s seat while he went around to the other side and got in. He opened the case and it was just like I left it. In the bottom, under everything else was just lots of big bills, lots of them!
“Now, Nancy, or should I say Khadijah? (Khadijah was my Arabic name but I had not used it for a long time.) We will speak of your past this one time and after that we will not speak of it, ever.” He went on to say that he only knew me as I was, and in Arab families, unpleasant things in someone’s past were not spoken of. “That is the end of it, do you understand?”

“So, nothing has changed? Should I still call you Ahmed, or should it be Your Grace, or Bin Salomon. You don’t care if I used to be a man? And you don’t care that I killed many Arabs?”

“When I was a teen ager, I got involved with bad people. There was a huge fight and two newlyweds, among others were murdered. One of them died by a bullet that came from my AK-47. My father paid a lot of money to pay the death debt. In the Kingdom, one can pay the family for a relative they killed, and if they accept, it is done. Then he whipped me until my back was a mass of bloody slashes. Often, I worry that it was the grief from that which killed him, because only a short while after that, he died of a massive Heart Attack.”

“No, I am still Ahmed to you and you shall always be Nancy if you wish. You may hear others call me those and other things, but nothing has changed for you. Do not be ashamed of your past. You did nothing wrong. It was all forced upon you by ignorant and evil people. You have and are doing a marvelous job of continuing on, leaving the past behind. It is behind and forgotten. If I hear you speak of this again, I shall flog you severely.”

I felt a perverted little frisson pass through me. Someone could know all about me and still be willing to work for my best interest.

As we talked, he explained to me that he was a mix of Saudi Royalty and California beach bum. He had not married because he had been too busy, and those who sought his hand were not suitable. I was going to be the “Mother” of this house, and no one who came would overrule me.

“Now, I am hungry. Shall we get some breakfast, or shall it be dinner?”

“Please lead the way sir!” We walked slowly, and I had some opportunity to compose myself.

When we got back into the Mansion, the kitchen was teeming with activity. I would meet them all as we worked. Two teenaged girls were working out the making of proper American coffee. A woman in Jeans was working on Hash Browns and Eggs. Not surprisingly there was no bacon. Ahmed and I set the table and poured water. I had expected Hijabs and Abayas but these folks looked like they were getting ready for shopping in Huntington Beach. The coffee was perking, and the girls had started conjuring up Pancakes. The Twins seemed linked at the hips.

Everyone got along so well, and the two girls were the only ones with a discernable Saudi accent. When we sat down, the woman looked at the girls and said,” knock it off”. One of the girls looked at her and said, “Sorry mom”. “Sorry Nancy, we were just playing a joke on you. Our accent was just a put on. Our Arabic is not very good at all”.

“That’s OK, my Arabic is non-existent.” I smiled as I said that.

The woman introduced herself as Gloria, mother of Ahmed, or Um Ahmed. “Yes, my husband met me while we were at College in California. He swept me off my feet, and we got married at a justice of the peace. Of course, that had to happen again when he took me to KSA. We agreed that I did not have to convert to Islam, but I had to look like it while we were in the Kingdom. So, that meant all the black abayas and black head covering of the Niqab. If we were around his relatives, I had to do the prayers and all that. He told me that I would never eat pork again, unless it was well hidden.” “My husband loved me dearly and called be Habiba. He was a wonderful man and subtly undermined the radicals, being active in a network to neutralize them.”

“In the Kingdom Ahmad is my guardian and as long as he does what I want, there will not be trouble.” Her tiny grin, while subtle was unmistakable.

Ahmad looked at his Mother but said nothing. The girls were silent. Ahmad was proving to be gentle and kind but protective and slightly controlling. Though I knew we would never be married, it felt like he was starting to treat me like a wife aside from the bedroom activities. I prayed that he would not make advances because I was not sure of my own actions.

In 2045, there were rumors about making people like me a complete woman. The thought made me shudder. I knew enough about Medicine to know that they might get the Organs to grow, but my pelvis was that of a man, plus there were things that we did not know about women. It would be impossible to make my adult pelvis grow into that of a woman I mused.

After breakfast, I expected to be left to clean up, but everyone pitched in to help until it was all clean again.

Ahmed stood up and said, “Alright, what’s it to be, LA, Portland, or Seattle. Almost in unison, the girls said, “Seattle!” Ahmed looked at the woman and she nodded. Then he looked at me.

“Oh, I’ll be fine here, doing what I usually do.”

He looked at me again and shook his head.

“You want me to go too?”

“Sure, it’ll be fun. We’ll go into Boeing Field and get a limo downtown for the afternoon. I have business at Boeing Field and you women can shop.”

“What if I am far too busy?” The girls and Gloria watched me with interest.

“Nancy, it is said that riding a man’s shoulder is worse than riding a Camel.”

The women were watching to see who won. There was a mini stare down.

Knowing that I would not win this, and not being so sure I wanted to, “Thank you for inviting me. I must change my clothes.” I was privately embarrassed that as I turned, once again my hands were covering my back side as I scampered upstairs.

I very much wanted the companionship of others, and I wanted to get to know Ahmed better. I knew that nothing could come of our relationship, but the pull was too strong. I wasn’t used to people paying much attention to me.

Ahmed’s mother followed me up to my apartment. I wanted to dress to please them, but I did not own tight jeans. They actually hurt me down below. I was standing there in my bra and panties when she knocked on the door jam.

“How long since you stopped wearing Hijab?” She asked.

I was surprised to see her. “About a year.”

“Then if what you were wearing is in your comfort zone, then you should not try to please us.”

“What will the weather be like, should I take a coat?” I quickly put my Abaya back on, adding leggings and a slip beneath, and taking a cloth to the spots of pancake batter.

“Take one if you wish. Here, let’s fix your hair. No Hijab today.” The psychological pull was still very strong.

She helped me brush my now dry but very messy hair out. And then waited as I did some quick makeup. I normally just use some foundation and cover up, some blush on my cheeks, and a bit of lippy.

When I looked at her for approval, she said, “You look cute”. “Don’t let the girls drive you crazy.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see”.

She explained that until their father died, they all lived in KSA quite a lot, and became very adept at eye makeup. She reminded me that in many places they wore a Niqab, so the eyes were vital for women hidden under the Niqab.

As we were walking back down the stairs, I remembered again that my head was not covered. Gasping, I touched my Hair. “Come on Habibti, you are beautiful.” Gloria murmured. She gently grasped my elbow and pulled me along behind her.

KSA had lost their dominance when their oil began to run out. So, now it seemed that almost any excuse was enough to ask expats to leave. Ahmad had gone to the best colleges in America and India, and now held degrees in Finance and Computer engineering. After his dad, Gloria’s husband died, according to Saudi custom, Ahmad was the head of the Family, and taking that seriously, produced a huge fortune, in the billions in just a few years. Gloria was very bright also and had her own textile companies.

Radical Muslims had really lost traction because they had no money, and the families were sick of the violence and hatred. Hamas had even come to terms with Israel. It was approaching the middle of the twenty first century and so many things were happening in energy and other areas. There was even talk of tearing down the wind farms in favor of small, efficient nuclear power plants. It seemed that the giant wind mills were devastating the migratory bird population. The solar farms which used mirrors to heat a boiler were gone 20 years ago.

When Gloria and Nancy came back down, it seemed that Hanna and Hala were licking their lips, waiting to get their hands-on Nancy. Nancy wasn’t so sure that she did not want to have pretty eyes too. Hanna pulled out a black Abaya and Niqab and was leering at me like a vampire. Hanna said, “We have to have you wear the Niqab, so we get the full effect.

Gloria was tapping her foot and looking impatient. Hala said, “Mom, please let us do this. It will be fun.”

When Ahmed came to see what was holding the girls up, He sighed. Gloria looked at him and rolled her eyes. “They’re going for the full effect.” She giggled softly.

“Fine, but all that comes off when we land.”

So, it was that three black clad Niqabi girls came out of the Mansion and got in the Limo. They were followed by a laughing Ahmed and Gloria.

Gloria said to Nancy, “You seem thrilled but wait until you have to wear that in 40 c.”

The short drive down to the Hanger was accomplished with the huge Limo.

Nancy gasped at what greeted her eyes when the airplane came into view. The nose was pointed, the wings swept, and two huge engines perched the wing roots. In some ways it looked like the ancient SR-71. As soon as the doors shut, the pilot started the engines. Nancy could hear snatches of the pilot’s conversation with ATC but understood none of it. In a very short time, they were rocketing down the runway and in the air. They made a very sharp bank around to the north west and made for Seattle.

“We can’t exceed the sound barrier here, but we can come very close. We’ll be in Seattle very shortly.” Ahmed said. “Coming across the Atlantic Ocean, we flew at around two times the speed of sound, by special permission for an experimental aircraft.”

Ahmed had gotten on his phone and was talking to someone that must have been a friend. “You want us to circle around out here or can you be at the field by the time we get there?”

In what seemed like just a few minutes we were diving toward Boeing field. The pilot was showing off and we were almost hanging by our seat harnesses. For the last mile or so, the pilot was using full flaps, and thrust reversers in a very steep approach. It almost seemed like the plane was stopped when it touched down. We quickly taxied to the parking space they had hurriedly assigned to us. This was a very different aircraft than any I had ever seen or ridden in.

When we de-planed, the limo was waiting, and it was quickly clear that Ahmad would not be going shopping with us. I made to stay with him but a quick look from him was enough to send me scurrying to catch up with the others. I had to think about this. I barely knew this guy and here I was trying my hardest to please him!

“Off with the black clothing, right now girls.”

“Yes Mom,” But it was easy to see that these girls were a handful and that their Mother doted on them.

We spent hours cruising the shops along the water front along Alaskan Way, and then had Crab at one of the restaurants. No one said a word about Crab being forbidden.

It was after dark when we got back to the Mansion. Being May, it was mostly clear but the area where the Mansion was had dense fog and clouds. That did not seem to slow the pilot down, and we were soon on the ground, with a very short landing roll.

Inside the house, Gloria, Ahmed and I sat in the kitchen talking and drinking coffee. The girls had disappeared, and later I could hear laughing from the basement pool area. Looking at Ahmed, he said, “When I knew who was coming, the computer command to turn the pool on was easy.”

“Your sisters are fun.”

“If they lived with you, they might get tiresome”. He said that with a smile on his face.

Our conversation was light and genial. I thanked Gloria for being so helpful today, and then looking at Ahmed, “I am sorry to have alarmed you …” He stopped me right there. “I’ve been wanting to show Joe Barnes at Boeing my new toy and you gave me the excuse to come here. He and the American ATC were not too troublesome. They were surprised that I could fly Switzerland to New York without refueling.

I heard someone walking in the entry way, and Ahmed called out, “Henry is that you?”

“Yes sir, she is all fueled and, in the hanger, ready to fly when you are.”

“Good, let’s sleep the night and have a leisurely flight back to Switzerland tomorrow.”

“Sir, I got us permission to cross Canada and Greenland, so the flight will be shorter.”

“We can do that non-stop?”

“Yes sir. We’ll cruise at +80 thousand.”

Ahmed’s phone rang, and in a moment, he was speaking Arabic. He walked out of the kitchen and it was soon very apparent that the caller was quite upset. My own Arabic was not good, but I knew that Gloria could understand it. The call finished, and Ahmad came back in with a tight grin on his face.

“That was Mustafa and it seems that little Saeed has come up missing. Gloria grinned but said nothing.
“Saeed is my surprise son and Ahmed’s little brother. He has lived with me but when Mustafa, his uncle, asked for him to go for a visit in Jeddah I let him. That was 5 months ago and now Saeed has missed a lot of school in Switzerland. I feared that Mustafa was keeping him to see that he got a proper indoctrination into Saudi culture. In Saudi culture girls are not important, but a son is worth everything. That would take years.

Saeed is about as Swiss as he can be, and quite spirited. He loved his school. I know he would be complaining if he could send me a message without the others listening in. I have a Saudi friend who I still speak to and she comes to visit. She managed to get in to visit Saeed because her own son and he have been friends. So, my friend Munnar managed to give him money I had sent her.

Knowing Saeed as I do, I knew that he could not be kept in KSA if he decided to leave. That was two weeks ago. Saeed is 14 but very wily. Ahmed, Saeed is missing, isn’t he? Yes, mother but do not let my sisters or anyone else know that we know. He will reveal himself when he feels safe.

Meanwhile, Ahmed is secretly thankful that the baggage compartment on the plane is pressurized and heated.

Later, as Ahmed is going to bed, he and the pilot met. “The weight discrepancy is resolved?”

“It is bin Soliman.” The pilot said.

“Say nothing.”

“Yes sir.”

In the morning, Nancy wakened to the cheerful giggling of the girls, and the smell of Pancakes. Oh, and coffee too! She wondered downstairs in her robe to see that Gloria, Hala and Hanna all working around the kitchen.

Nancy didn’t ask, she just moved in and started helping. It seemed like Gloria was at the stove, and Hana was doing pancake mix. Hala had the Coffee, so Nancy started setting the counter, rather than do the table. She put out 10 places on a hunch but felt that there would only be 8.

“Don’t clean up. It will give me something to do, rather than feel lonely and bereft when you all leave.”

Everyone but Nancy was gone in a half hour. She watched in near rapture as the 20-passenger plane sprang into the air and climbed steeply out of sight. A somewhat tearful Nancy wondered when she would see any of them again. She would most miss Ahmed, but Gloria and the girls had endeared themselves to her also.

She stayed outside, walking the grounds. It was fascinating to see everything becoming green. She would have to ask Frank or Jose what would grow up here and go buy some plants. The place would be so much prettier with some color. It looked as if the rough landscaping had been done a few years ago. There was an odd berm that ran from the house and went out of sight down near the farm buildings. Nancy doubted that the same plants that grew in Portland would survive here.

As she had suspected, when she got back to the Kitchen, she looked around and the extra pancakes and other food had been eaten. She smiled to herself. Nancy suspected that Ahmad’s little brother had gotten to Switzerland and somehow stowed away on the plane; getting off at the ranch. She wondered how he had avoided the customs people in New York when they fueled up? Perhaps it was best that she not know.

Nancy finished cleaning the Kitchen, and then wandered around the Mansion to see what the rooms needed. When she stripped the beds, and started the Laundry, she returned to wipe things down and clean the toilet and what ever showed dirt. Her visitors had stayed in the main house, so she went to inspect the bedrooms in the upstairs wings and found nothing.

She sat down at her computer for a little bit and sent Ahmed an email. “Please Ahmed, could the laundry be three times larger?” Thank you for the visit even if it was just to show your toy off to the world. LOL.”

Nancy thought about the situation while she sat in the Hot Tub in the basement. Saeed is invited to Jeddah, only to find that his uncle makes excuses about him not returning to Switzerland. It finally gets to the point that his bedroom is moved to the second floor and the door is locked at night. He was starting to feel really trapped after months of this when Mum’s friend brings his friend by for a visit. When his mother stops to pick up his friend, she quietly hands him a scarf and slippers, saying she thought he would like them.

As soon as the door to his room shut, Saeed opened the scarf to find lots of money, and enough thin rope to reach the ground. He hid those things under a cushion and put the folded scarf and slippers on his bed. It was still fairly early, so he got some food from the kitchen, and a couple pieces of raw meat, which he wrapped in plastic. If the Dogs were out, he hoped that the meat would quiet them.

The next day, he walked over to the shopping center. Mustafa didn’t suspect anything because Saeed often went over there. He’d met a smuggler behind the Souk (mall) and talked to him several times. Today he was right where he usually sat. The Smuggler, Omar, often bragged about being able to get anything.
Omar and Saeed talked for a while, even sneaking some hash in a pipe. Saeed was able to work out with Omar, that he could get travel documents to get him on a plane. It should be easy to fly Jeddah to Riyadh, but the trip to Paris might be more difficult. They were sure that as soon as Mustafa missed Saeed, the police would be notified. It seemed hopeless, but then the devious Omar had an idea. For a little more money, Omar could get Saeed injected with the identity chip for a girl. He could travel in Abaya and Niqab. The police would likely not question a properly attired woman who had the chip with her identity.

Saeed’s new name would be Nawal bint Salomon. Omar took him to his shop and collected the money. As Saeed emerged back into the main Souk, he was not surprised to see one of Mustafa’s men. When he saw Saeed, he appeared to relax.

The next day Saeed was back at the Souk to pick up his new chip and have his old one dug out and removed. Saeed was not as brave as he thought he was, but a few puffs of hash and that calmed him. Omar doubted that the police would question the fresh wound from the removal. Omar admonished Saeed to act excited to anyone questioning the fresh wound from the new injection. Saeed needed to convince them that she had only just been given guardian permission to travel.

Back in Oregon, Nancy left a note on the door; snacks in the refrigerator, dinner at 6:00 PM in my apartment, second floor above the garage. The door is not locked. Is Chicken and rice suitable, or would you like suitable Kabsa?

That night Saeed did not show, but there was cereal out in the kitchen when Nancy got up. Before eating, Nancy went over the whole east side of the house. She stood outside where she’d seen the blankets. “Saeed, your brother Ahmad and your sisters, Hala and Hana and your mother, um Ahmad were here, and believe that you came here with them in the plane but have chosen to remain concealed until you are sure you are safe. I’m Nancy and will be in the Kitchen and then about the house cleaning. You are safe with me.”

She worked about all day, including having lunch and then just as she was placing an oven roast on the platter, along with the carrots, celery and potatoes on the counter, she heard a soft shuffling. Turning, she saw a young boy standing in the doorway. His eyes were brimming but not yet crying, “I’ve missed them then? I didn’t come out because I was not sure that Uncle Mustafa was not here also.”

Nancy moved to his side as soon as she saw his state, “Saeed, I am sure that they will be back again soon.”

“Can they come back soon? I miss Um Ahmad?”

“I am sure that Um Ahmad strongly suspects that you are here, but nothing was said to keep Mustafa out of it.”

Late that night, Nancy had just gone to bed. She finally persuaded Saeed to sleep in the next apartment. Strangely SKYPE managed to turn on her supposedly sleeping computer and when she got to the screen, there was a number on it. Code 2243 Laundry. Instead of just running out to the Laundry, Nancy wakened Saeed, so they could both go.

Saeed had a ball bat, and Nancy had a 10-inch butcher knife. They quietly took the stairs, watching for intruders but found none. When they got there, the thermostat key board was lit up. “set code”. Nancy did not remember the code and started to go back to her room.

“Stay here sister, I am faster than you.”

He was back very soon and handed her the code he’d written on a post it.

When they put the code in, there was a click in one of the tall cabinets and it swung out from the wall. The door did not open, the whole cabinet moved.

When they looked around the cabinet, there was a framed opening in back of it. When they stepped inside the back, the cabinet swung closed by its self and a light came on. There were also flashlights hanging there. A steep circular stairway went up and down, and it was so easy to get Saeed to come with her as she explored. There was a landing on the second floor with a closed door and a peep hole. On the third floor, it was the same, and then a ladder led off to who knows where. She asked Saeed to go ahead of her since she was wearing only a night gown. The ladder ended in the wall of the west tower but continued up to the third and fourth level. At the top of the fifth level was a door. There was also a small screen that when turned on, revealed the view through what must have been a night scope with wide angle lens.

Being very cautious, they opened the door onto the roof top level of the tower. From the deck they could see an almost unrestricted view of the entire estate. It seemed odd that there were vehicles moving around down by one of the huge outbuildings. Guessing, Nancy thought it must be after midnight. Both Nancy and Saeed were not dressed to be outside, so they ducked back into the concealed passage.

They were both very alert now, and Nancy wanted to know why that notification went off? They silently continued to explore and found that the majority of the Manse could be gotten to without anyone seeing. It was very early dawn when they returned to their rooms. They’d found a passage that seemed like it headed for the hangar, and one that could have gone down toward the lower buildings, but it was so late that they decided to forgo exploring that. There was another, very heavy, unmarked door that they could not open, and it too was for another time.

When they got back to Nancy’s apartment, the screen on her computer was dark but as soon as she sat down, it came up. The thermostat screen next to her desk illuminated, saying: Set 9426. She set that code and the wall next to the kitchen door opened. Inside were what looked like the next generation of some weapons she’d seen or carried, two of each.

“Saeed, have you handled weapons?” He looked at her for a moment. “I have fired two of them and learned to be lethal with that sword. Father also had me in several kinds of war fighting, but died before I graduated.”

“Which ones?”

He picked up the Sig first, chambered it and then unloaded it and correctly put it back in the rack in its previous state. Then he picked up a rifle/grenade launcher with night scope and did the same with it, placing it back in the rack.
“Were you any good with them?”

“My father would not allow me to do less. I have stripes on my back from being lazy.”

Nancy was moved and stepped over and pulled him into her arms. She felt him briefly shudder, and then he was calm.

Nancy’s cell phone buzzed and when she looked at it, there were several texts on it. “Mustafa, or his people are in route to the Mansion. Intentions not known. Toy sabotaged. Ranch people may be involved. Will come when damage is repaired. Tell no one outside.”

Nancy knew that someone who was clever could surreptitiously get local law enforcement to help them.

The screen illuminated again. “Place this phone in incinerator”. Almost immediately it began to smoke, so she quickly grabbed it and placed it in a skillet and turned on the exhaust fan.

As Nancy was returning from that, Saeed was holding two tiny radios with various cords attached to them. There was also an ear bud on each one. They looked blue-tooth or something like it. She hadn’t seen the likes since the Military.

She immediately turned and sat down at the Computer. In the URL window she began to type an indecipherable series of characters and hit enter. In a minute the screen came back in caps. LTNS. She returned LVN. IC was returned. WTC
45.309161,-120.012781 C Loc pkg 0z9d 2 frns. Unk hostiles.

(((Long Time No See. Laying around. I see. Watch Lat, Long see location. We are in house. Unknown Hostiles approaching. Come to party)))

Looking at Saeed whose eyes were very large. “I have every confidence in Ahmed. But, I have some very cranky friends who would be quite hurt if I did not invite them to this.” Of those who had been in certain services, we formed a network that the DOD did not know about, though certain past associates had inserted codes in Department of Defense equipment that let us use it. I had 8 hours a day, two weeks out of the year. Our communication was very cryptic and not written down; entirely memorized. We learned most of it on active duty. Even if they help us break the enemy’s toys, we’ll never see them.”

“You know, almost no one is allowed to call him Ahmed. You must be very special to him.” I could see his eyes were wet.

“Thank you. Perhaps we can keep each other safe, with a little help from our friends.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nCrlyX6XbTU

“Don’t worry. Allah SWT has sent me to help, inshallah.” This is sort of a code phrase to people of his culture. Little Saeed felt that he was sent to protect me, the seasoned veteran of combat. Go figure.

Nancy turned to the Computer again and got on SKYPE. “Party started, bring toys”. And sent it as a text. She then unplugged the computer. In a minute, she started it again. Nancy did not have time to figure the system out. This was her best effort to erase everything she had done.

A little electronic table slid out of a slot in the weapons rack. I knew it would provide us with more guidance. The bug in my ear beeped. I looked at Saeed, and the same thing had happened to him. There were two small back packs and when I looked there was field rats good for a few days, depending on us. It was almost 6:00 AM, so Nancy moved into the Kitchen to fix them breakfast. When she checked on Saeed, he’d found the camera network on the tablet and was moving from one to another of the outside cameras.

There was substantial ammunition in each pack. The grenade shells looked like 12 GA shotgun shells and there were 24. The rifle ammunition looked silly, as small as a .22LR but longer. Thankfully it is 2045 not 2000. There were several hundred rounds. In 2045, explosives were so much more powerful.

There was a very lethal sniper rifle that was scary frightening because I had used one. I hesitated to pick it up. I handed Saeed the Ammo for it. This kid was a real trooper. I’d have to speak to Ahmed about being too formal with this boy. I did not remember that there were extremely endearing terms that a brother might use with a sibling.

“Sister, I have found a safe room. We should go there. “

We started down there but did not make it. Somehow a chopper with several men on it had landed about half way between the Mansion and the farm buildings, and Fred’s men were engaging them. They were getting shot up badly. Not using the concealed passages, we got to the top of the tower as fast as we could. Out of breath, it was obvious to me that their chopper needed to be put out of action before they could use it to advance their attack. One round to the fuel tank did that, and it was Saeed, using the sniper rifle that did it! I was tempted to scold him, but another time. As the chopper blazed away, the battle with Fred’s men split and some of the men came toward the Mansion. At first, they were out of range for the smaller armament, but Saeed was giving them bully hell with that sniper rifle!

Suddenly, I could hear a bullet strike the parapet and Saeed went down. He had a grazing head wound and I was not sure how serious it was. He was conscious, but out of it for a while. I’ve known men to fight on with blood running down their face but this boy had already done more than any boy I knew. I could hear a second chopper approach, and I could not identify it in the early dawn light. We stayed down, and it passed over, landing not so far from the burning one. Now, at least I had some idea which side they were on. Before I could take the second one out, it was back in the air and heading toward the Mans.

Quickly I picked up one of the other rifles and as soon as they were in range, I was going to hit it with grenades, but the trouble was he started shooting first. One rocket went over my head, and the other hit the turret on top the tower, throwing fragments all over the place. As he was circling around for another go at us, I felt blood running down my chest from a wound on my throat. I was starting to feel faint, so I got a slap pack out and put it to the wound and pressed. I grabbed an adrenaline syret and used that too.

That chopper was just floating out there looking for a target when suddenly, there was a loud whoosh and it too blew up. My friends were so good to me.

About that time a 4 rotor drop ship swooped in and puked out lots of really pissed off soldiers. In another half hour, the enemy were spawn for the vultures. I heard some crashing around and in a few minutes the door to the tower opened and three very lethal soldiers looking for trouble came out. Saeed had bandaged himself and had my head in his lap. He was crying softly.

Despite the adrenaline, I was too loopy to cause trouble, so Saeed filled them in. About that time a huge sonic boom swept over everything and I could hear a jet approaching under full reverse thrust. Saeed, called out to them. “Please don’t shoot him down, that’s my brother!”

In a very short time, he was on the ground in front of the Mansion, not bothering with the runway. He’d thrown shrubbery and gravel all over the place, even breaking windows in the Mansion, but he was down and immediately the engines started spooling down.

The soldiers were bent on holding my Ahmed and the pilot but then they got a call, and everything was fine after that. Ahmed left the pilot to get the company plane out of sight in the Hangar. Meanwhile Saeed, Ahmed and I and any other wounded were flown to Lewis-McChord AFB on the drop ship. My previous repairs were classified, and very soon, unsmiling nurses and doctors ran everyone out until they were finished. Ahmed was inseparable from Saeed. They tried to keep Ahmed out, but poor Saeed screamed so pitifully that they let him back in. Now there is someone who knows how to make the most of his situation. Saeed had a painful but not serious wound to his forehead. He is such a trooper.

I had some shrapnel in my neck that nearly severed my carotid artery, but that was repaired rather easily. Then I was chewed out by the attending physician, and reprimanded by my old CO. I tried to tell them that none of this was intended, that I was just house sitting. They had no sense of humor for me.

When they started letting Ahmed in to see me, it was his turn. I was out in a week, but the shrink wanted his turn. The only thing that saved me is that the shrink walked in as Ahmed was laying into me for being reckless. So, when the Doctor came around the corner, I’d finally had it and grabbed my purse and ran with tears streaming down my face! Somehow, I escaped notice by the Aps, got a taxi to a rental car place, rented a car and was almost to the cut off from the freeway at Arlington, Oregon when a four rotor drop ship blocked my way past the airport!

OH, come on now. I am no longer in the Military! I just wanted to go home, get my car and go where??? The sobering truth was that I now thought of the Mansion as my home. A moment later, Ahmed jumped out the side door of the jump ship and walked back to the car, opening the driver’s door.

“It is no longer permissible for you as a woman to drive.” He opened the door after I unlocked it. Unlocked it? Why did I do that? He pulled me out and rather than escort me to the passenger front seat, he put me in the back seat! I started to cry and scream at him, but he turned around. Silence woman, you are hysterical! Poor Ahmed was just being himself.

It was only a half hour up to the Mansion, and by the time we got there, I was much subdued. Ahmed drove the rental into the garage, and I decided to sit there. That plan fell apart when Saeed opened my door and crawled into my lap. “OH, Nancy I was so worried about you. I am sorry that I failed to protect you.”

“Saeed, I was supposed to protect you.” Men are brought up to be such ego maniacs!

“It is not permissible that a mere woman protects a man.” I looked at his face and it was plain that he was just winding me up.

“How are you brat?”

“I am well and now so are you. Please come inside.”

Inside, Gloria and the twins were there, and greeted me so affectionately. “Oh Nancy, Saeed told us all about how bravely you fought. We will care for you and get you well.”

I had a cup of coffee, heavy on the crème and brown sugar, and was then marched up to my room. I heard Gloria running the tub and the twins helped me get undressed. A half hour later, I was warm and fuzzy in my bed. Gloria acted like my mother.

“Maybe you can get up at dinner. You are exhausted.” With that she shut the lights off and closed the door. I was about to protest, but the next thing I knew is that I was waking up and could smell cooking. I felt much better. How long had I slept?

I put on a robe and made my way downstairs. The family was sitting in the Breakfast Nook talking quietly. All of them were there and Saeed was sitting on Um Ahmed’s lap. (“Um” means mother of)

“I see that you all found each other. I wish I had done a better job of protecting you Saeed.”

Sporting his bandage proudly, he said, “It is not for woman to protect a man.”

“You should study early history on the peninsula. In the old times, when the situation was dire, the men put the women in front because it was a deep insult for the enemy to fight women.”

“Mother is this so?”

“It is my son.”

Ahmed and his family stayed, or at least his siblings did. Ahmed and Gloria split their time between Switzerland and the Mansion. When Ahmed complained to Saudi Royalty about the actions of Mustafa they arrested him, and we have not heard from him since. Ahmed and Gloria both had friends in Saudi Arabia and would watch further developments.

Frank had been wounded but was now fully recovered. His partner, Jose was killed by a grenade. Ahmed would not tell me everything, but he says there is now a substantial security team here.

Boeing and Ahmed have entered into an agreement. One of the secrets of his plane is that it is mostly made out of a material that is approximately ten times stronger than steel, but weighs far less than aluminum, and handles high temperatures astonishingly well. Ahmed had a suspicion that Mustafa was after the profits from that pseudo metal. Ahmed did not even have a name for it.

The Faux metal is laid up somewhat like a fiberglass boat, but then a sort of resin is put on and it is subjected to very high frequency Micro wave and allowed to sit.

I was sort of amazed that the US Government had not tried to take control of the development of the metal and the plane, but the way that Ahmed had just put it into full public view, sort of precluded that.

Gloria and her children had gone down to The Dalles, using my aged Subaru and leaving me home. I was happily lounging on the roof of the west Tower, getting ready for darkness and a bit of stargazing. I still had my little Telescope and had declined Ahmed’s offer to get me proper one. I most enjoyed just watching the edge of our galaxy pirouetting above me.

I was also using this time to contemplate the possibilities of my new fate. He’d found out more about my medical history, it seemed to be even more than I knew. Wait! I thought this was private and his knowing illegal! We had a very serious fight over that, and it wasn’t over in an hour or even a day. Though as endearing as he was to me, finally I had to agree to still be very angry but admit to myself that I loved him. That man!

We’d returned to Lewis McChord to talk to Doctors and Shrinks. One of the Doctors was an experimental Neurologist, and after he talked to us, I was no longer mad at Ahmed but just wanted to kill that Doctor. He revealed that the repairs to my spine and right leg, and right arm had entailed them messing around in my brain more than just making things work. They also did things to reduce my aggressiveness, and other things that he would not explain. The upshot of all that was after my discharge, the Shrinks that did not know about what he did, naturally came to the conclusion that I had GID. I’d gotten up and walked out before they were entirely finished. “Ahmed, you can take me home or I’d do it myself!”

I didn’t wait for Ahmed. I just wanted to be alone to think. They’d screwed my brain up! Is that why I was not so efficient when dealing with the attacker? That I’d let a boy do what I should have been doing was shameful. The rocket almost kill us was embarrassing. It felt like I’d made several bad decisions. What had they specifically done to my brain and was any of it repairable?

With no sign of Ahmed, I got a taxi to a local airport and paid a private pilot cash to fly me back to the Mansion. I walked to the Mansion from the Runway, and let myself in. The UTE in the garage was gone, so Gloria and the girls had gone somewhere, so I just went to my apartment, sat down and bawled. At some point, I must have undressed and gotten into bed. It was dark when I awakened, and after using the potty, and getting a drink, it was back under those warm, fuzzy covers.

I dreamed about jet noise and Ahmed kissing my forehead, but neither wakened me. The dawn Sun was streaming through the windows, funny, I thought the curtains were closed? Hunger drove me out of my bed and covered with a robe, I was rooting around in my refrigerator, but then smelled cooking. Sighing, I decided to see who it was downstairs. Hmmm, I never used that elevator, why did they put it in?

The girls and Saeed were in the Kitchen. Saeed was at the bar, and Hala and Hana were cooking something that smelled delicious. I stood there in the doorway feeling confused and then Hana said, “Mom and Ahmed went to Switzerland and should return later this evening. We had hoped that our cooking would waken you. We were getting very hungry.”

“I am sorry that you waited for me but thank you.”

Saeed got up and walked over to me. “After what we went through together, you are a member of the family, and my Sister. Nancy is not a proper name for you however. We have talked and you are now called Hefza, meaning protective angel and brave.”

I sat down heavily, trying to process this. “Ahmed had called me Habibti at times, and I liked it.”

“Oh, he can still call you that as his special name for you, but to us you are a brave angel.”

I did remember some Arabic from the Saudi guys I had worked with. “Mashallah, thank you so much.” Those guys had helped me, even saving my life several times in our battles against extremist Wahhabis. I still had flashbacks from our battles along the border of Yemen. At times, the sound of gunfire was a roar. It was there that I was wounded in my right leg, and got my right arm broken so badly that it was hanging only by the flesh.

I’d lost my mind and kept firing with my very uncoordinated left hand while sitting on a sand bag. Finally, Autonomous drones had arrived at direct fire and then guided bombs wiped the enemy out. The bombs themselves were small; about as large as a banana out to the size of a large watermelon, but they were guided and had their own vision, approaching silently on wings that allowed them to loiter until they had a target. They looked for heat and movement and when they detonated, the area of damage was not very large. There could be hundreds of them floating down. They were best at night.

One of the drones had noted my injuries and as soon as the enemy were neutralized, a small Medivac swept in and took me to a place where a full sized one lurked. I remembered the Helmeted female nurse looking me in the face and then she poked me. That was it until a foggy moment at what they said was Jeddah, and that was it until Walter Reed.

A soft touch on my face brought me back. Everyone was looking at me.

“How long?” I asked. I was embarrassed at having disassociated.

“Not long.” Hana said as she placed a plate in front of me. It had eggs, rice, pineapple and lots of other goodies that smelled awesome!

We sat there and talked as we ate, and then cleaned up.

“Last one in the pool has to do the laundry!” Hala screamed.

With the enthusiasm that is typical of the young, everyone disappeared. By a stroke of luck, mine was already tucked away in a cupboard down by the pool, so I beat them down, and slipped into my one piece. The water was so nice when I hit it. First came Hana, then Hala, and finally the crestfallen Saeed.

When he surfaced after he dove in, I swam up to him. “Saeed, I shall do the laundry for you.”

He looked at me in relief. “Thanks, Habibti”.

After we turned to prunes in the pool and the hot tub, we dried out, got dressed and went outside to walk around. Around the back we could see that the repairs to the tower were done, though we could still see the new patching material. Down toward the barns, we could still see the burned spot where the enemy chopper had burned.
“I wonder if there are horses to ride?” Saeed said enthusiastically.

Before I could say anything, he and the girls were running toward what looked like a horse barn. It was empty but Frank came walking out of one of the other buildings.

“Nancy, I am glad to see that you are up and about again. How do you feel?”

“I’m good Frank. I’m sorry about Jose.”

“I am too. He was a good man. We lost two others beside him.”

“I won’t ask you what else we are doing now.”

“Good, Nancy because I can’t tell you.” He paused for a minute. “When is a good time to meet with you, up at the house. I have some things to show you.”

“We can walk up there now. Can you give the kids something to distract them?”

“Hey kids, there are dirt bikes in that shed over there. Do not leave the property.”

They were very enthusiastic about the bikes and Frank made them use the helmets.

Frank and I walked up to the circle in front of the Mansion. He stood in the center and looked around.

“The panic room is right under here” I’ll make sure you get on the code to get out here through the tunnel.”

We talked about various other security features that I did not know about, and then he left. I hadn’t heard from the kids in almost an hour, so I went into the garage and got the goat to drive around so I could find them. At the bottom of a ravine, I found the cattle and the kids. They were sitting around the water tank and talking.

I didn’t interrupt them but went back up to the Mansion. It was approaching evening and I was in my favorite place thinking; On top of the West Tower.

Gloria and Ahmed called in the morning, saying they would be in around 1:00 PM, and we were all to be there, saying he had an announcement. I didn’t think anything of it. Perhaps, another business deal or new toy? I busied myself doing laundry.

The roar of jet aircraft, one after the other brought me to the windows. I could see Ahmed’s plane, and then two larger craft behind it. Minutes later, the children came roaring up the road, leaving their bikes in the drive. Oddly, the girls stood on either side of me and Saeed behind.

A limo was approaching from the Airport. The girls were sort of giggling, screaming and laughing all at once. Four women dressed in traditional Saudi clothing minus the Niqab got out of the first limo. Hana and Hala obviously knew them. And the were greeted with plenty of affection and laughing. Then they turned to me. Looking at Hala, one said, “This is the Bride? How lovely she is.”

“No, wait, you don’t understand. You have made a mistake.” Then things got a little fuzzy.

When I wakened, I was sitting on a love seat, and Ahmed was sitting beside me. “How are you feeling Habibti?”, He asked.

“Ahmed, they told me I was a Bride? How can this be?”

“I am so sorry. I was supposed to get her first and ask you and the rest was not to happen unless you said yes.”

“How can this be? I am not a real woman. You know what I am.”

“Yes, well we were going to talk about all that also. You see, I do not care. And should you decide to let them, I have talked to Doctors who can make this happen, including work on your pelvis to at least make it possible for you to carry a child.”

“This is all so sudden. I had hoped that this could happen, but your marrying me is something I never expected.”

My head was churning, and I couldn’t think …

“We must talk more Habibti”. He said.

Not thinking, I’d had enough of that and it was useless. I would follow my heart. “Yes.” I didn’t know how things would work out, but I had to try. “Yes.” I’d had enough stress and loss. “Yes, I will marry you, Ahmed.”

Fin?

Belated Thankfulness!

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Belated Thankfulness

By Gwen Brown

I just want to say how grateful I am that so many people on this site have stood by me, hugged me, calmed me and corrected me. Sadly, I could find no one to spank me when I needed it, and I so dreadfully needed it.

In looking around, I first started posting stories over at "Storysite.org in 2001, I think shortly after the 9/11 attack. The attack did not frighten me so much but the actions of our mad man, war criminal president did. I read "Ms Frankenstein" over the other day and it is plain to me that my writing has not improved in the last 10 years. Then my author's name was Credence Brown.

I think Sephrina moved me over here in early 2005 but I was too timid to publish until 2007. Those were hard years, with 5 hospitalizations in a safe place, copious amounts of psych drugs, a tanker truck full of tears, and without the care shown me here, this would not have been written.

In the last two years, my life has taken an astonishing turn, and I am now happy and accepted in real life. These are the happiest years of my life! There is no clubbing, no drunkenness, no pot. My life consists of keeping house, reading, study, attending church on Sunday and caring for others. I could not wish for more. Life this way is somewhat confining. There is little make up, complete modesty in dress, no swearing, no more hard rock! There is most certainly no smoking, coffee, or beer, it is Mormon Haram. It is best to try to look just like the women around me. Happily, I have learned the real female way to respond to the passing of a man with a cute butt; say nothing.

To my shame, I have grown increasingly intolerant to those suffering the same grief and narcissism that I did at first. I have finally come to understand that "It is not always about me". I have tried to be patient, and promise to try harder, as long as I am here.

To lots of new authors, the description of their first bra, first panties, and first skirt are the stuff of which stories are made, and I understand this. For some reason, in looking back at all my stories, I seem to have bypassed that phase, and I at times have wondered if I should go back and do it to fully mature myself. (It is well known that a child that does not crawl will have developmental difficulties later) Hmmm. Though, I probably will not write that sort of one armed prose.

My first stories were about the extreme trauma of having been a happy male and one day waking up to the fact that you are female. They were definitely Forced Fem. For me, coming out made me feel like a dirty pervert, and guilty beyond comprehension. It is truly the way I felt in those early years. My old life was completely destroyed as sure as if someone had dropped a Nuclear weapon on me. All this would not had happened but were it not for copious over dosages of the products of drug companies. So, if you are depressed, taking drugs for it may be the exact wrong thing to do. It was for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Credence, where are you. Let's go out"

“Yes dear, you want to take me out?”

“Credence, are you still working on your book”? Alan says gently.

“I am Alan. As soon as I finished cleaning house, I felt driven to write these things”.

He’s got his arms around my shoulder, kissing my neck in a way that makes my whole body quiver!

“Alan, please stop and let me finish this little bit, please?”

He devilishly reaches under my unfettered breasts and massages them in a most delightfully distracting way until I feel warm and squishy.

“There Credence, does that help at all?”

“You devil, you know it doesn’t! How will I write with my eyes crossed?”

“Maybe it will hasten your work? We are going to Hawaii tonight for a few days, and I am not letting you take any clothes but your bikini”, He says imperiously.

“But Allan, I have a deadline …”

Cutting me off, he looks at me like I am an errant child, “any more arguing and I won’t let you take your top.”

“But Allan …” He stops me with that look. I may have already lost my top, oh my!” How will I get to our Jet?

I keep thinking as I write just a few more lines. I see his shadow in the hallway and know I must get dressed. The bluffer, I know he will let me get dressed. I won’t have it any other way!

In my comfy cotton pajamas, I move into the bedroom and have a quick shower. Actually I did all that this morning but since he mauled me a few minutes ago, I’m fearful of smelling rank. Careful not to get my hair wet again, I’m soon in the bedroom rubbing Cetaphil all over my still wet body. As that dries I move over to the dresser, leaving less distinct wet foot prints in the white carpet.

My blue satin granny panties pull comfortably over the place where there is now nothing. No one is watching, so I just put my bra on backwards, hook it without struggle and spin it to cover the C’s I grew myself.

When I get my stockings and garter cincher on, it feels like so totally right. I decide to play a joke on him. On go my nice little black slides, then my abaya and my Niqab, and finally black gloves. Mister can just wonder. I know how far I can push him and also know when I must obey.

When I walk out of the bedroom and down the hall, he stands there with two body guards. I can see his eyes smouldering as he looks at me. I will pay tonight when we land. It will be so fun!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alan was the only man that I ever loved. He died of a massive stroke before we could ever live out our fantasy. There was never anyone after him, there never will be.
Now that I have written a proper dressing sequence, I wonder if people will say that I can write?

My sincerest thanks for the years of love and acceptance you have given me.

Sincerely,

Khadijah, Gwendolyn, Maksoud bint Boucher

Or Just

Gwen Brown

Born To Be Exhibited

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

EXPLICIT CONTENT

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Just re-read it again, (4/29/2024) It is so pathetic. Perhaps the worst I have ever read...

(Sorry for the sloppy editing. I hope it is better now.) (4th edit)

Born to be Exhibited.

Born with indeterminate gender, the Doctor and parents chose female. Though she could not bear children, no one ever told her.

Haseya loved daring clothing, especially dresses. In her mind, no proper girl ever wore pants. She’d never worn a bra, not even a light one, and only wore panties when she was “on”. She was trim and rigorously took care of her tight little 5’2” voluptuous body. As a child, a drug induced 'pubescence'. She was a natural tease, and as soon as she discovered boys and real intercourse, she loved being intimate with them, but absolutely secretly. Haseya never allowed her golden blonde hair to be cut and her brilliant blue eyes were seductive. She was thrilled that her breasts became outsized by the time she was a Sophomore in High School, and of course her hips reminded the boys of basket balls.

She was not educationally programmed with modesty. Haseya saw someone fingering her breasts as a sort of ‘handshake’ not even that intimate or personal. For her, sexual arousal was a normal state.
Clothing was worn to be warm or dry. Urine really was usually medically sterile. Only feces was treated with any caution at all. Any sort of erotic contact with that orifice was just not her thing. In males, the prostate was completely evolved away and along with the appendix.

Pregnancy for real women was easy though still lasted about 9 months and child birth was usually done over night while the mother was sleeping. Birth was no longer bloody or wet and the babe came out with the umbilici cord already disconnected.

In her long years of College, Pre Med, and Internship, she supported herself by being a high-class call girl and Sugar Baby. Her Sugar Daddy was the Dean of the Medical School, so it was all very easy to keep confidential.
Sometimes, she did a naked pole dance for him.
At the Hospital, Haseya wore boring scrubs, but off work and when she could, she wore as little as possible. Special exercises kept her pussy tight and just walking was at times like having sex and she’d often have an orgasm while walking the halls.

Her sugar daddy had a kink so that he loved to keep her bound in metal to varying degrees sometimes even while at work. If Haseya was too immobilized to do a pelvic, her nursing assistant did it and it was simple and often quite fun.

Haseya didn’t have time for dating and had never encountered a man that she wanted long term. There were dinners with quick intimacy after, but seldom did a man spend the night. She did not drink or do any kind of illegal drugs, though she knew enough pharmacology to take care of herself. She managed her own mental state.

Haseya didn’t know it when it happened, but the beds were new. She started to wake up after she slept feeling so rested and well taken care of, as if she had slept so deeply. Later Haseya read that the new beds morphed into having something that probed her vagina, held her by the waist and hips and massaged her breasts and generally made all of her erogenous places feel so good! She started to wake up giggling and feeling so happily stimulated, but never molested.

XXXXXXX

Haseya didn’t know that she had been kidnapped and had been missing for days. The police were searching. No one knew that she was now helplessly mounted like a prize right under the library patrons noses as part of a new display at the library. She'd been kidnapped and mounted by the Librarian, an eccentric woman who loved books, particularly medical books.

Ms. Ellen Jameston had been seeking a specimen to mount for years and her plan was meticulously developed. As long as Haseya’s heart continued to beat, her kidnappers intended that she remain captive in her largely Plexiglas display case. Still conscious but heavily sedated, Haseya could see the interior of the library reading room. The hardware in her mouth was designed to provide food and water and dispose of anything that came from her stomach the wrong way. Air was supplied through tubes in her nostrils. A tiny cable was threaded in through her nostrils, past her turbinate, from left to right and back out to be connected to a block that had secured her head such that she could not move it at all without excruciating and dangerous, life threating pain. Any bleeding in her nasal passages would cause them to flood and she would either suffocate or bleed to death.
Haseya was completely nude, only concealed by a thick coating of bees wax that had been poured on her secured form. The wax had been mixed with a solution to temporarily lower its melting point to close to body temperature for several minutes, at which point it would stiffen and make any movement by Haseya much more difficult, but was porous enough to allow her skin to breathe.
Haseya’s hanging breasts had been vacuumed into Plexiglas cups that formed part of her bondage. A clever arrangement using a tiny vacuum pump prevented their movement yet did not immediately inflict damage to them.
Steel corset bones imbedded in the wax mimicked a corset in a way reminiscent of the Victorian era. By the time Haseya’s sedative wore off, the wax had hardened and was quite strong and inescapable. A catheter drained away any urine, and a thoughtful vibrating appliance in her Vagina kept her sated and distracted. The dildo provided part of her secure bondage.
Her diet was formulated to keep her stools almost liquid and was simply pumped away. Haseya was kneeling on all fours and her feet were encased in transparent platform dancing heels, like those an exotic dancer would wear.

The entire display case was located against the plumbing space in the bathroom wall, so that the various tubes and wires could be routed to and from the case unseen. No one suspected that the Librarian had a secret accomplice that did the plumbing and carpentry.
Rather than completely silencing Haseya, a grilled speaker carried the audio into the reading room at a barely audible level. There was a microphone near her mouth to pick up any sounds she made.
There was a grudge against Haseya’s family and the guilty duo had not yet decided if their captive would be released alive despite the fact that she’d had nothing to do with the reason for the grudge.

One of her abductors, the Carpenter, had been terminated for being drunk on the job, and wanted to get back at Haseya's family.

After 57 days a private Detective broke the case and Haseya was freed by emergency personnel. Physically, she would recover but her psychological make up had been severely impacted and she was left with dire PTSD.

Haseya no longer wore any clothes except for very soft cotton panties. She stayed in her suite of rooms at her childhood home, did not go out and did not have visitors, not even medical or psychological counselors. She felt that psychological people were egocentric crack pots.

The illicit substance used to incapacitate Haseya had altered her thinking and no one could predict when or if it would wear off.

Haseya’s parents told the doctors and others to stay away and took matters into their own hands. She would not wear clothing at all. She would spend time on the deck close to the creek if she was tethered to a secure ring by her nipple piercings, and she was gagged and guarded by her huge dog so she felt secure. It took a while to decide if it would be a pair of Dobermans or German Shepherds. The experts were divided and in the end Haseya decided.

Haseya did not talk but seemed content enough to pet the dogs, who seemed to stay alert and close. It was early Summer now and should stay warm enough until late September. She seemed to like to be outside for 1-2 hours a day. When it got too cold to be outside almost naked, hopefully she would be happy in a heated glass shelter. Later, even when it snowed, she still spent time in the glass shelter. Caring for the plants felt therapeutic to her.

It would take years for her slow recovery.

(Not sure where to go with this.)

Changed by Aliens

Author:

Gwen Brown

Organizational:

Title Page

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Other Keywords:

Fresh Start

Taxonomy upgrade extras:

Changed by Aliens
by Gwen Brown

Changed by Aliens-Chapter.1

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transformations

Character Age:

Child

TG Themes:

Fresh Start

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Little Gwen was just wakening, Mom reached down and picked her off the seat, holding her daughter in her arms as if she was made from delicate crystal.

Dad was at first surprised but it changed to adoration when little Gwen said, "Hi Daddy!" He swept her into his arms and gave her the hugest hug any little girl could ever have.

Changed by Aliens
by Gwen Brown
A surprising amount of this story is true.

Chapter 1

“Logan, Mom said I could sit out and watch the stars with you.” Little Gwinn said. “Oh, go back into the house and suck your bottle.”

“But Logan, Mom said” Gwinn exclaimed hotly! Tears were welling up in his huge doll like eyes and his throat was getting sore from being upset. “I don’t use a bottle anymore either.”

“Ok, but you have to be quiet and not scare the animals” “Little Gwinn retorted that he wasn’t afraid of no darn aminals” That pronunciation is the best he could manage for his big brother.

“OK, you little sissy but if you make a sound, I’m making you go into the house.” Little Gwinn did not like being called a sissy but for now he held his peace. He was only 5 years old and idolized his 15 year old brother. Once in a while he would push Gwinn in the swing or piggy back ride him. He sure loved his brother when he was not being rude to him.

“Hey, make sure you go potty before you come with me sissy. Mom will get mad at me if her little sissy wets his pants.” “OK Logie, I will” Gwinn said obediently. He was so happy with getting to go that he would try very hard to please his older brother.

There was something strange about Gwinn and always had been. Gwinn refused to stand up to pee; said he did not like it splashing on his legs. So, the upshot was that he either wet his pants when outside for long or went into the house. Besides, he was not tall enough to reach the toilet with his willy. He also had this effiminate air about him. It evidenced its self in many ways; most obviously in his fastidiousness and sensitivity.

The doctor had told Julie, Gwinn’s mom not to worry about his size, but she’d never felt everything was OK.

Logan sat there thinking. He decided that he really did love his little brother and wished he’d grow up, too. The little kid could be some fun when he got a bit older.

It was only a few minutes until Gwinn came back outside.

OK, they were ready to go. They moved off as fast as Gwinn’s tiny feet would carry him.

“Hurry up, or I’m going to step on your heels” Logan said. “I am going as fast as I can”.

Billy could see that the little kid was struggling, so he swooped down and picked Gwinn up amid gleeful squeals. He plopped the child on his shoulders. “Ok, sissy, you have to be quiet, we are almost there” Logan said after about 20 minutes of walking. They had walked up a high ridge so they could see into an adjacent valley. Logan and Gwinn quickly nestled down amongst some boulders after he checked for snakes and scorpions.

“Logie, do you ever get scared out here at night”, Gwinn asked? Logan was amused and not about to tell Gwinn that he even got spooked sometimes. “I have Dad’s pistol if a cougar or something bothers us”.

“Oh, so you’d run them off if they scared me”, Gwinn asked? “Sure would”. Gwinn giggled softly, more reassured now, snuggled up against the warmth of his big brother’s shoulder, with a face wide smile. His little smile would have illuminated the night if smiles could do that.

Logan hadn’t said anything to Gwinn, or his parents, but he was really out here to see the origin of the strange lights that came out of the valley sometimes at night.

It was quite dark now, and the stars had mostly come out. Sure, the stars would not get blindingly bright until well after Midnight but they were still plenty spectacular.

The nights in South Eastern Oregon were cold at times, even in the summer. And sometimes, the Military Jets would blast by so low, that it was a wonder that the trees were left standing. The farmers and cattle men had complained enough about frightened and injured stock that it did not happen so much any more. Logan had seen more than one Antelope or deer dead for no apparent reason. Lots of people were convinced that they died of fright.

Little Gwinn and Logan lived with their parents’ way out in the semi desert, amongst all the sage brush, small pines, and quaking aspen. The house was a modest ranch style, double wide trailer and unattached garage. There was a little tool shed which housed the well pump. A huge propane tank sat beside the shed.

Down in a draw was the Government Machine shed, which housed a dozer used for making roads and filling in illegal claims.

They’d just received a Semi Trailer load of Nitrate Fertilizer that some College Extension service was going to use in an experimental project to promote desert grass. There were the usual farmer tools and some stumping powder used when making roads.

Logan’s folks, Martin, and Julie were out here to manage BLM mineral claims, and to make sure that no mining was done where it was not supposed to. Beneath the surface was a lot of Gold, Copper, Mercury and other valuable minerals bound up in a chemical bond that took environmentally destructive methods to extract it. A lot of the land was what they called strategic reserves and the government just did not want the wrong people nosing around.

All that had to happen was the wrong people finding what lay under the rocky soil out here and pretty soon some self serving congress man would be trying to pass laws, making it all available. Oh, the government actually did not care, but protection of the land was Martin’s personal mission.

Martin, the boys’ father was about average weight and height; with a head full of coarse black hair. He was diligent and smart. It was no secret to anyone how much he loved his family. The children were home schooled and very happy. The family made the trip to town every couple of weeks or so. It was a quiet life, full of solitude that was truly rare for an American family these days.

Julie, the boys’ mom was petite; “almost like a doll”, Martin said. She was loving and obedient as a wife until she set her mind to something and then Martin knew to either help her or get out of the way. Her blonde hair made her dark blue eyes seem all the more luminous and penetrating. She had the looks of a model but she could still pull her own weight, even at 101lbs. Even Logan, had taken to picking heavy things out of her hands and admonishing her to ask for help,but knew he had to be really tactful about how he did that because she could pinch his upper arm in a way that made it feel like a snake bite.

Logan was about to give up for the night when he saw a dark shape moving over the trees at the head of the valley they were sitting by. By now, little Gwinn was sound asleep, and thus quiet. The thing moved along slowly and gave Logan the creeps. He knew he was seeing something not of this earth. In the dark, he really could not tell the distance to the craft or its size; since he had no way to gauge anything for reference. It was long like a hot dog but seemed to be flattened. It was completely silent with exception of the subtle sound of the air parting around the vehicle.

As it sank below the top of the rim, suddenly extremely bright lights came on, illuminating the ground all around Logan and Gwinn and the rest of the valley. Logan really crouched down now; having a chilling feeling that he would not want to be seen by who ever was in that craft. Now he could see that the craft had 4 pods on it that he thought must be the engines.

It flew on down the valley and landed in a depression a long way down the ravine. Logan was thinking it could be 5 or even 10 miles away.

As he sat there with his binoculars, he could see activity around the craft. The movement reminded him of ants on a chunk of rotten wood. It was hard to tell but it looked like they unloaded a lot of boxes and things and then proceeded to load lots of big boxes into the craft. The vehicles seemed to disappear into the side of a hill on the side of the valley.

Then the strange vehicle lifted off and headed back up the valley. This time it was much slower and seemed to be carrying a far greater load than it had on the way in. When it was about half way up the valley, suddenly one of the engine pods began to smoke slightly and now there was a mournful howling coming from that direction. Logan first thought it was coyotes but then he realized it was from the alien vehicle and it seemed to be in trouble.

In a slow, agonizing death dance the huge vehicle banked in Logan’s direction and began to sink. It looked like it would come down right where they were and Logan really began to regret that he was not home in his bed. The closer it got, the faster it seemed to move and then the realization set in that this thing was huge; much larger than he suspected.

As it passed almost overhead, the noise was deafening and the air it stirred up carried all sorts of small twigs and dust.

“Oh my God” was all he could say as he watched it retreat into the distance but this time down the valley their house overlooked. It suddenly sank much faster and then plowed into the rocks and scrub brush. It left a trail of burning trees and gouged earth behind it as it continued its ruinous path; finally coming to a stop.

The over flight wakened Gwinn and he started to scream in fright. Logan finally got the child calmed down a little. “Don’t worry Gwinn, we are fine but you really have to be quiet now”. Logan said. “OK Logie. I am scared”. “Yeah, me too kid, me too”, He said.

He stood up with the innocent look of wonder on his face that only a child can show. “Oh, man, did you see that? I wonder if Mom and Dad saw it?”

Logan said,” I’ll bet they are awake now though. Come on we have to get home right now.” Logan did not even let Gwinn try to walk. He simply swept him up in his arms and began to run at the fastest trot he could manage carrying the child. “Oh, Gwinn, you wet yourself, man this stinks, what did you eat that makes you smell so bad”, Logan asked?

At the sound of his big brothers cross voice and having just wakened, Gwinn began to weep piteously. “It’ll be ok, I am going to keep you safe”, he said to the little child. “Ok” Gwinn said sleepily.

As he was trotting, he admonished Gwinn to be quiet, but the poor child was just so upset that he could not stop crying. “Gwinn, if you aren’t quiet, the monsters will get us” Logan said in desperation.

Well that only made matters worse. Gwinn was quiet for a moment and then began a keening that not only hurt Logan’s ears but made it even more likely that someone would hear them.

They had just crested the rise when Mom shouted out, “What is wrong Gwinn honey.” She almost collided with Logan in the dark and then dad came churning his way out of the gloom, carrying a powerful torch.

“Oh, God, come on you guys be quiet will you?” Logan said. “Don’t you talk to your mother and that way young man”! Martin fumed.

Logan gave Gwinn to mom and he began quieting. “Dad, Mom, look down the valley. Now will everyone be quiet”? He said softly.

Dad was about to launch into a good chewing on Logan when suddenly everyone went silent. “Oh…….My……..God, Martin. What is that”? She exclaimed breathlessly. Martin looked at it and said “What the hell is that”?

Everyone was quiet for a few moments and then Martin began going on about the fires. Mom was soothing little Gwinn and telling him that she would get him into the house to change clothes. “Then, little man, you are going to bed”, She said firmly but her voice carried the love that only a mother can give. “Ok Mommy, I’m really tired”

Mom carried Gwinn went back down the short distance to the house to put her little one to bed.

“Come on Son, we need to get Fire on this right away”. They hurried into the house and into Martin’s pseudo office in the Garage. Martin turned on the two-way and was greeted with audio hash so strong that he had to turn it down really low. “Well, that has never happened”. Logan responded that maybe it was the Aliens.

“Son, what are to talking about, those are no Aliens. It was some big Air Craft from the air force.” He tried to tell his dad that it was much too large for a Jet, but Dad could not be convinced.

Martin then tried to get on the Phone to call into Coleville, but the phone was out too. “Son, this can’t be, that line does not go down to that valley; it goes straight out the access road to the highway that we get in here on.” Logan told his dad the real reason that he had gone out tonight.

“You mean that you actually saw that thing come in and it was silent?” Dad queried in a disbelieving tone of voice.

Logan quickly related to him how it had started to leave and suffered a power failure, circled around and crashed. “Well, I am dammed sure it was a Jet that woke mom and I up” He said.

Logan looked at the clock and could see that it was three in the morning. Feeling a little frustrated at his father, Logan gave up and said he was going to bed. His dad soon followed. “Logan knew Dad would not listen to reason until it was light.

Martin set his alarm for just before Sun rise. He didn't sleep.

When the Sun came up, Martin was sitting on the patio that was right on the edge of the ravine, with his high powered spotting scope. It would take something at 600 yards and put it right in your lap.

As the valley brightened, Martin could see the pall of smoke spreading far down toward the basin. As he brought the smoking wreck into view, he softly swore to himself. He could see people and trucks down there and they looked smaller than ants on a carcass.

“Holy Shit, that thing must be as big as a few Air Craft Carriers”. He could easily see that there were no wings on it; just those pods that Logan tried to explain.

He rushed toward the bedroom. “Julie, you need to get up fast, fix a big breakfast for us all and I don’t know, maybe you and the kids should pack some things.” His voice carried enough worry and fear in it that she needed little explanation.

As she busied herself in the Kitchen, wearing only a bath robe, she heard the jeep start and head off down that ravine toward the wreckage. When she looked out the kitchen window, she gasped with total shock.

“Logan, Logan, you need to get up and get Gwinn up too. We need to eat and start packing a few things.” She yelled down the hall.

She sounded near panic to Logan and he quickly got up and went into Gwinn’s room. Gwinn was not an early riser and he was a whining, snappy hand full until mom came into the room.

“Gwinn honey, this is important. You need to get up right away, we may be going camping.” When he heard the word camping, Gwinn suddenly wakened completely and began to dress himself.

Logan looked at him and smiled. “Way to go champ”.

Minutes later they were all sitting around the table eating when the jeep came screaming back up the ravine and looked as if it would hit the house before it stopped. Julie could see Martin coming toward the house but he was holding his side and she could see red on his hands. Julie ran outside to meet him.

“Martin, what happened to you? Oh dear, is it bad? Do you want me to take you to town? Did you fall on something?

“Look Julie, this is serious. When I got close to the wreck, someone began to shoot at me with this thing that sounded like an electrical ark.”

*******

The language the crew man of the freighter was using sounded like a slightly modulated growl. “You dammed fool, what the hell did you start shooting for? We were supposed to slip in here, pick up the fuel and get the hell out without arousing any suspicion”, His superior complained bitterly.

The crew man cowered as if expecting his head to be parted from his scaly body. “I am sorry sir; I thought it was one of the federation soldiers.” He said lamely.

“The Gods curse you stupid” we are smugglers, not murderers. “You and your team go up there and try to retrieve the wounded Human. I’ll talk to the mother ship about how to handle the problem.” He said. The commander stood watching the idiot and his team to get into an explorer and move off up the valley as fast as it would go. With the charges of the vehicles having been used to help the fuel starved freighter take off, it was not moving so fast.

*******

Julie used the towel she’d had pushed into the tie of her apron and wiped the blood away from his hands. Looking at the wound, she gasped and nearly fainted.

“My God Marty, we have to get you to a doctor now”!

Just then she heard another vehicle coming up the valley and it looked like they would arrive in just a few minutes. It looked like a Tank.

“Tell Logan to get me the ’06 and plenty of shells. You and the kids need to get the hell out of here now! He said. She could tell that he was in considerable pain.

Logan had been standing in the door and overheard them talking. He quickly ducked into the door and returned with two rifles and the .45 auto.

Julie rushed into the house and grabbed the suit cases. She quickly had the basics for her and Martin in a couple cases. And was gathering Gwinn’s clothing when she heard the rifle fire. The sound caused her to scream but she quickly stopped, not knowing how close the Aliens were.

Martin and his son were out past the patio in some rocks. “Well son, wish me some luck, I’m going to reach out and touch someone.” Logan chuckled nervously, knowing full well that his dad had used a line from an old phone commercial. Logan had not taken the time to become afraid. It was all on them so fast that it never occurred to either of them.

The shot rang out and a second or so later one of the Aliens slumped atop the tank looking machine. Seconds’ later part of the rock that Martin was behind just blew up, showering both of the men with shattered rock. Logan had just lost his innocence and was now a man fighting for his and the families lives.

Interestingly, the space farer who originally fired the shot at Martin was the first to die.

“Logan, run in the house, grab your mother, and you and them get on the road. Don’t come back until you know it’s safe.” Logan knew better than to argue with dad, but he sure as hell wasn’t leaving with the woman and child.” He’d almost made the house and he heard Dad fire again. As he looked back over his shoulder, he could see Dad changing positions.

“Mom, Dad says for you and Gwinn to get out of here and don’t come back until you know it is safe. He said to go to town and get help.” Logan said.

“I am not leaving here without you and your father.” She stormed out the door looking for Martin. He had been wounded again by rock fragments but was still holding the rifle with grim determination. He looked up to see Julie coming, not seeming surprised at all.

She could tell he was in a lot of pain, but determined to fight it out. By the time she knelt at his side, she was weeping so much that she could hardly talk.

“I knew you wouldn’t just leave. You never did obey very well.” He said.

Martin, you are just too stubborn. You are going to get killed like this”!

“Well, get the hell out of here and get me some help before I do.” Julie knew that she would never see him alive again and with her weeping wracking her tiny body, kissed him tenderly.

“Now git woman, go get help”! He said as if he were scolding her. She began to get to her feet when another bolt shattered the tool shed. That made her freeze in terror. Martin reached out and slapped her on the soft part of her butt. He smiled and winked at her.

“You can make me sleep on the couch when you get back.” He said. They both knew that she was not coming back and that he was going to die.

Logan ran out to the car with her and Gwinn. He loaded their cases but did not get into the car.

“Mom, I’m staying to help Dad.” He had the same look on his face that Martin always got when the argument was over. She looked at him. “I love you son, please take care of your dad for me”? She was crying so hard that he could hardly understand her but he knew what she meant. “I will”.

She took one frantic look at her son and pushed the pedal to the floor, throwing gravel in a long rooster tail out in back of the Pickup and was gone in a trail of dust. The road out to the highway was about 20 miles long and almost as straight as an arrow. She drove that pickup as fast as it would go and still stay on the road.

*****

“Commander, first level Ziti has been killed by hostile action” The second in command of the squad said in the communicator. Just then another of the smugglers slumped back through the hatch.

Now panicked, and very angry, the rest of the smugglers began to attack in earnest. “These primitives are lethal and we need to put them into their place”.

*****

Through the tears, Julie vowed to protect Gwinn. By the time she got to the highway, she had stopped weeping. Her face looked like it had been sand blasted but she was composed and seemed as calm as if she were going on a Sunday drive.

Martin had continued to fire with the rifle, and found that these bastards could actually die. Much to his surprise, he heard the other rifle fire.

Martin looked over his shoulder. “I thought you were going with your Mom” “She left with out me.” Martin said,” You could get killed doing this”.

“So”?

He was proud of his son’s courage, and it was too late to argue.

The tank was at the bottom of the ravine, just below them. There was a harsh crack, and the tree shielding his father disappeared.

Dad was too hurt to get up. Logan ran over to his dad. He could tell his dad was dying. “What the hell, none of us lives forever”, Martin said.

“Now get over to the shed and rig that Nitrate Fertilizer to explode. Use one of those electric caps and string the wire as far as it will go. Blow the bastards up.” Martin said. He was in obvious pain. “Now chamber that 45 and I will try to get you a little time”, He said.

As his kid ran off down the hill toward the shed, Martin said softly to himself, “May as well take some with me”.

Just then two of the smugglers came into view not far away. The 45, lethal at short range quickly dumped them on their asses with center of mass shots. They were probably dead before they hit the ground.

Logan heard the 45 shoot until the clip was empty. He’d spread diesel fuel all through the fertilizer, and set a few sticks of stumping powder in amongst the sacks with an electric cap in one stick.

Logan was running around a side hill as the tank crested the ridge, demolishing the house, and headed toward the barn. Logan let himself be seen by whoever was in the tank and they started off in pursuit.

As the tank rounded the big shed, Logan touched off the fertilizer.

Later as the smoke cleared, the commander walked through the debris on top of the ridge. “Ok, make sure that any evidence of our being here is picked up. Don’t bury anything. The dammed fools got themselves killed for nothing. The cause was not helped today. The commander said.

As he looked around a concentrated storm system was gathering in their vicinity. “You have little time to accomplish your clean up. I’ll not leave any of you but I will surely vaporize anyone who is loitering” He said. By the God’s he was enraged. “It is a shame that I can not reach them until the next life”.

*****

Julie was almost out to the main road that went between Burns and the Nevada Border, when suddenly the aged Datsun pickup just quit. She let it coast to a stop and just sat there for a moment. Suddenly Julie could hear a voice but could not see anyone.

“We are sorry what has happened here today. We will repair what we can and leave you ample amounts of your currency to take care of the rest, with some left over. If it is within you, please keep our secret. We are warring against an evil power and just landed to obtain some supplies. I am very sorry that we have disturbed your life. I will not allow it to happen again. You may return to your habitation.” The voice said.”

“Who are you? Are my husband and son OK?”, Julie asked frantically.

“We are repairing the two beings at your habitation. Would you like me to repair your little one? “What is wrong with him, he is not hurt”.

“His life pattern, you would call it genetics, is abnormal and he will grow to be very unhappy. This is the least we can do to repay some of your pain”.

Julie looked over at her son, who appeared to be sleeping. She just sat there in a daze for a while.

Back at the house, Martin slowly began wakening. He was in no pain but did not think he could move. As his awareness increased, he felt stronger. He just laid there for a while watching the strange, scaled men walk about. It seemed as if they were repairing what they could.

He dozed for a little while and then became aware that someone was talking to him with a strange accent.

“We are very sorry for the interference we have committed in your lives. There is no way to entirely erase the evidence of what happened here. I will not alter your mind or kill you, because my beliefs forbid that.

The conversation, at times very heated continued for some time and they reached an agreement. Martin got some equipment to help in that agreement.

Julie was rushing back up the road and could see the entire range of hills where she lived was cloaked in fog, in spite of the fact that the day was sunny and warm. She drove on into the fog, not willing to delay for a moment to see her son and Martin. Beside her sat her child, now whole and extremely beautiful. Her body now matched her genetics. While Julie was still getting used to the idea, little Gwen lay on the seat with her head in mom’s lap. She was sleeping and had the most beatific smile on her little face. The Alien had told her that little Gwen would be weak and drowsy for a few days, but would now develop normally. The thought that the Alien had healed her child made her feel a kinship with them.

Martin could hear something strange over his head and then a really huge ship sank down out of the clouds, leaving an indeterminate part of it shrouded in the mist. It made the huge vessel on the ground look like a fly on an elephants butt. Everything about him began to vibrate softly and then the wrecked space ship began to rise, passing into an open hole in the belly of the other huge ship. Then the vibration stopped and the mother ship began to lift back into the clouds.

Just then Julie drove the old pickup into the driveway and got out. She left her little daughter sleeping. She was so thrilled that she could not contain it. Seeing Martin, she ran to him, jumping into his arms. He of course caught her, knowing full well that this is what happened when she was extremely happy. She was laughing and bawling at the same time.

“You big oaf, I thought that I would never see you again”, She said while pounding on his shoulder with her tiny fists.

Much later, after giving Logan a similar greeting and getting the tour of the repairs the Aliens did, she walked the two men over to the pickup to see her daughter. Little Gwen was just wakening, Mom reached down and picked her off the seat, holding her daughter in her arms as if she was made from delicate crystal.

Dad was at first surprised but it changed to adoration when little Gwen said, "Hi Daddy!" He swept her into his arms and gave her the hugest hug any little girl could ever have.

Looking over Dad’s shoulder, Gwen looked at Logan and said, “Hi Logie”. He looked at her quizzically for a moment and then said, “Now everything makes sense”.

To Be Continued...

Changed by Aliens-Chapter.2

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

Genre:

Character Age:

Preteen or Intermediate

Other Keywords:

Fresh Start

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

"Julie was looking to where Martin was going and almost fainted. There were two snipers and an officer up there. They seemed to be getting ready to take a shot at Grok!

She let out an uncontrolled shriek and dove at Grok. “They are going to shoot you!!!”. About that time, there was a shot but it fell to the floor in back of Grok. Apparently, he had some sort of personal shield. There was another shot and one of the little children fell to the floor with blood running out of her chest."

Changed by Aliens
by Gwen Brown

Chapter 2

It’s been a little over 5 years since the Meridians left. As a precaution they’d set up a subspace antenna array that had the capability to detect traffic clear out to the Oort cloud. First Martin ran the array for a few weeks, then much to Logan’s pleasure, he was taught to use it and given the foot tall stack of manuals (in English) to read.

10 year old Gwen watched her big brother Logan through the picture window, momentarily taking a break from her homework. He was much bigger than his younger sister and doted on her when Mom and Daddy were gone. He’d been doing maintenance on the antenna array in the edge of the woods. The Meridians had hidden it by making it look just like the lodge pole pines in that grove. Even a relatively close examination would not reveal the arrays’ presence. It was a very clever design, self powered and easy to maintain.

Actually Grok knew that it did not require any maintenance, but he wanted the family to learn all they could about the technology so that one day, they could move on to more important things. Grok was the Meridian’s contact with Gwen’s family since the day of their unintended confrontation. He kept a careful watch on the family form far out in space. Though technologically primitive, the Humans had impressed the Meridan. In the process of his monitoring, Grok had become fond of the family.

Gwen grew curious about what Logan was doing and carefully laid her book on the couch. Once outside, Gwen quietly walked over to see what he was working on. “Logie, what are you doing?” she said quietly but right at his shoulder.

“Hi twerp! I am doing some improvements our friends told me to do in this mornings’ message. The detection work the array was doing could easily have been done from orbit, but that was just one more thing for the Federation to find.

“Logie, do you think they will ever come back to visit us?” Gwen asked hopefully.

“I just don’t know Gwendolyn. I would really like to see them come back.”

“Do you think the Federation will ever come here?”

“Well, the Meridian Rebels were concerned enough about it to leave this array.”

“When I sit out at night and look at the stars, I just know there are others living there. It thrills me, but at the same time, frightens me some too,” Gwen said.

“Well, Gwendolyn, Mom is going to send me to Burns for my last year of High School this fall. I will only be home on breaks and birthdays you know. You need to start looking after the array, you know. Sometimes, I’ve thought I have seen things on the plot. Of course, the Oort cloud blocks our view any farther out.

“We’ve learned so much about space since the Meridians visited,” She said.

“Well, with them using the spare set of phone lines to be discreet, they have been sending little hints and the data from the Array to key people to hurry our own research along.” He said. “The Meridians don’t want to show up on TV just yet because they are fearful that their appearance would cause a world panic. That manned research station on Mars would not have happened if they were not helping us along and quite a lot too.”

“Well, I was sure frightened when I first saw them. But they straightened me out, so now I am very grateful” She said. “Before, I did not know that I was really a girl. I feel like I have the missing pieces now.”

Their conversation was interrupted by their Mom appearing on the porch. “Gwen, honey, come help me with dinner will you?”

“Ok Mom, I’ll be there in just a second.”

“Logan, will you teach me to run the array before you leave?” the seventh grader asked her big brother?”

“How about this Saturday?”

“That would be so wonderful.” Her heart gave a flutter and she suddenly hugged Logan. She quickly swung away and started toward the house gently humming some song.

“Hey squirt; I’ll miss you, too.” He called after her.

She came skipping into the Kitchen and began preparing the Mashed Potatoes.

“Mom, I am going to miss Logan”, She said wistfully.

“I know honey, we all will. Burns is over 100 miles and that is just too far to commute. He’ll still be home on breaks and some weekends”, Mom said gently.

“Well, why can’t he home school like we always have?” Gwen complained.

“Sweetie, your brother needs to learn to deal with the outside world.”

“I’ll be lonely though!” she wailed. Mom didn’t say anything for a while. She had thought of putting little Gwen in a boarding school in Burns, but feared that she would be too upset being away from home. In many ways, little Gwen was emotionally much younger than a normal 10 year old, but she was improving.

“Mom, do you think the Meridians would like to come and visit?”

“Oh, I imagine that they are very busy right now.”

“Oh, poo!”

They began to talk about other things and in no time dinner was ready to be put on the table. Mom turned down the heat on the stove., Gwendolyn set the table. Both of them busied themselves doing extra things for dinner until Martin’s truck came up the drive. The dust was not even settled as Martin strode energetically into the kitchen.

The girls mobbed Martin. The excitement from a few years ago with meeting the Meridians had changed the family dynamic. They all knew the importance of each moment spent together.

It was just a few days before School started for Logan when late at night; there came a knock on the back door. Gwen went immediately into the bedroom with mom and Logan handed Martin one of the two loaded rifles.

Martin turned on the porch light while Logan looked out the dining room window from the shadows. The light grey uniform and the scaled appendages immediately told the men that it was one of the Meridians.

Still being cautious, Martin opened the back door and as soon as he did, he recognized the distinctive pattern of scales of the Alien that had saved them the last time the rebels had visited.

“Grok! Forgive my caution! It has been years… hasn’t it? Come on in and let’s talk!” Grok’s anatomy prevented him from sitting straight on a chair, so he turned it around and sat backwards on it much like a man wearing a sword might.

Julie quickly put on a house dress and came out to make the men coffee. Of course, little Gwen could not be kept out of it! They talked about seemingly inconsequential things for a while. Grok had to know how Martin’s old wounds were and Martin assured him that he was just as good as new.

Grok even made a fuss over little Gwen. “Come here child and let me look at you.” His hands were surprisingly soft for someone who had scales. Pretty soon, Mom could see that Gwendolyn was developing a real affection for Commander Grok.

Eventually the greetings slowed to a standstill, and Martin asked,” What brings you our way again?”

“Well, Martin, there is a problem. The Federation is working their way in this direction and in fact, you may have seen flashes of them on the monitoring equipment we left for you.

“What about it? Logan, have you seen anything?” Grok asked.

“Just a few flashes of something moving really fast at a great distance away, but I do not think they have come here yet.”

“It could be that they are just scouting so far, but sooner or later, the Federation will come here.” Grok finished. The family was completely amazed that Grok could speak such perfect English. When questioned about that before, he’d simply replied that he was talented with language.

Logan had felt that the issue was much deeper, but did not want to risk offending Grok.

They all sat around the table discussing problems the Federation could cause them with their planet miners and terraforming practices. Over breakfast, since they’d talked the night through, they planned how to recruit from among the humans without causing a major panic.

By now, Gwen had managed to push Grok back in his chair some and had insinuated herself onto his lap. She sat listening to them discuss various ideas and rejecting them in turn.

“Hey everyone, I could take Mr. Grok to some shopping centers and introduce him.”

Everyone laughed openly for a moment, but when they looked at little Gwen’s face, they stopped laughing. She had given them all “the look.“

Julie looked at Gwen’s brimming eyes, and her heart broke. She punched Martin in the shoulder and motioned for him to look at his daughter. The sudden silence was really uncomfortable.

“Yes, well… there is a possibility that it could work.” Grok said, breaking the tension.

“You’re serious?” Martin said.

“You know, if this is done properly, it could work really fast,” Logan said.

In the following discussion, they eventually came around to the idea that several of Grok’s men could station themselves in cites throughout this and adjacent states. They’d listen to the public service channels. When a fire or wreck happened, each of his men could beat the Fire Department or the Police to the scene render assistance and leave before anyone who could interfere would show up.

Grok told them that his people could withstand normal fire for extended periods of time, which would make rescues where fire was involved, really easy.

The fire started from a burning candle in the living room. The smoke from the fire was just beginning to pour out the open living room window, when the alarm was called in. Actually, it was the listening Meridian who luckily saw the fire first, and reported it. He wanted to make sure the house did not get too involved. After all, this was about introducing himself gradually to the humans, not killing them. The incident needed to be managed with great care.

This time, Grok had taken great care to bring only good seasoned soldiers and no “loose cannons.” His careful selection paid off as this soldier acted per his orders.

Using his translator, he broadcast a woman screaming loudly “Fire, Fire”. Sure, the scream, had it been measured, would have been about 145 db. But then, no one was awake that his instruments could detect. He doubted that many would remember what had awakened them. Though, some men would say that their wife’s screams would wake the dead.

It didn’t take long and lights were on in the neighborhood. People were coming outside. Lt Nong quickly ran from the backyard, around the house, and then inside. In full view of the neighbors outside, he quickly helped the occupants outside and extinguished the fire; feeling sad that he had to allow it to go that far. With that, he moved around towards the back of the house, amid the hysterical cries from the people who saw him. When the Police and Fire units had arrived, there was no sign of him.

Over a period of several weeks, there were dozens of incidents like this all over the Western States. It was impossible for the government to interfere because the locations were unpredictable and the Meridian involved was gone too quickly.

Then, one Saturday, just after the mall had opened, a little girl was seen walking down a residential street with a Lizard. As before, the participants were gone before authorities could arrive. One such incident nearly ended in disaster when the two walked out of a secluded spot, right in front of a parked police car with two cops in it. Fortunately, they were a hundred yards away, and the little girl and the Lizard had started playing Soccer before the police got out of their vehicle. The police stood by their car for a little while; apparently thinking that the Lizard was a man in a suit. As they approached closer, the Lizard and the girl faded into the trees. There was no sign of either of them when the police got to the edge of the woods and examined the area.

~*~

“Well, Mr. Grok, are you ready for this?” Gwen said.

“May as well, uh, Princess,” Grok said. He was so proud of himself for finally learning to wink.

She giggled happily.

No one, including Martin, knew the big Lizard’s defense capabilities.

The two stepped out of a side alley into the first level of the nearly unoccupied Lloyd Center, in Portland. They began window shopping as if it were a completely normal activity. They ignored startled words from the few humans near them. The plan was to let this go on until people got too panic filled or until the police arrived. Julie and Martin were following at a distance, prepared to take little Gwen to safety if things went south. Martin’s Gun, a .45 ACP look alike was concealed in a shoulder holster and even he had debated leaving it at home. He was a licensed federal officer and knew well how to manage himself.

Happily, things went as planned - for awhile.

“Grok, do you think people will get really upset?” Gwen said.

“I hope not. I feel that we are running very short of time and we Meridians are not sufficient in number to fight off the Federation. It is questionable if there are enough humans to defend themselves from the Federation. If we are not very careful to keep them well away from your planet, they, well… we just need to keep them away.

As the Mall filled, more people saw the big Lizard. But with the little girl standing calmly beside him, most people did not get upset. When there were sufficient people in the mall, Gwen and Grok sat down by the edge of a fountain. The little children seemed most fascinated. And, because of normal parental inattention, they began to gravitate towards him. In a little while, he was enchanting the children with tales of his own childhood and experiences. They sat there for a little over an hour when a mother began to take pictures. Even the security guards were simply walking by - except one. He had called Homeland Security, bypassing the County Sheriff entirely.

Julie and Martin had gone over to the food court and returned with several orders of chicken nuggets. The little children in the crowd were eating them one and two at a time. Grok then rolled his head back, opened his huge mouth and dumped a full container in.

“Wow! Mister, you eat way more than my dog!” an 8-year old girl exclaimed and then giggled.

“Oh? Little one, this is just a snack for me. I would love to eat much more, but you do not have insects in a sufficient quantity to readily eat.” He bent his mouth in a slight smile.

One of the Mothers began to realize that Grok was no man in a suit. She grabbed her two children and began to move quickly away. Her children were wailing piteously.

“It is alright woman, I will not hurt your cubs.” Grok softly tried to point out. He’d deliberately used what the woman would think of as alien words to say what he had; thus reinforcing the idea that he really was an alien.

“Mommy! Can’t we go back and talk to Mr. Grok?” her little girl pleaded.

“Sally, we really have to go home in a few minutes.”

“OK, Mommy.”

About that time, Homeland Security showed up. They came in noisily, wearing battle armor, and carrying weapons - scaring all the little children. There were several mothers who immediately saw what was about to happen and one of them walked over to one of the soldiers, screaming at him to stop terrorizing her children. They tried to hustle her off, but several of the other mothers came to her defense - one of them punching the soldier with astonishing strength.

It did not take long for the Sergeant in charge of the soldiers to see that lots of innocent people were going to get hurt if they persisted. One of the contract news services had heard the radio traffic involving the Lloyd Center and had gotten a van over there almost as soon as Homeland Security had arrived.

On the balcony above the action, bright news lights suddenly came on, deepening the dilemma of the Homeland Security Sergeant. The incident turned into a rout for the soldiers and they were told to stand down, but remain alert. Homeland Security did not want news footage of them escalating an incident without provocation. Off to the side, there was a scuffle and a Newswoman struggled into view.

Since he was sitting down, Grok looked much less imposing, especially with little Gwen on his lap and surrounded by a couple dozen or so other children between 6 and 10 years old. Exercising good sense, the Newswoman wisely stood closely by and listened to him regaling the children with impossible sounding tales.

After a few minutes, she managed to catch him between stories.

“Where are you from… Mr. Grok is it?”

“Madam, my people were once from a part of the Galaxy too far away to even think of. You call the region of space Cygnus. We have an enemy that began systematically wiping us out about 300 of your planet’s years ago. Those of us that are left are but a remnant of what once existed of our race.”

“We have come here to alert you to the danger and possibly enlist you in our battle to stop them. There are barely enough of my people to provide sufficient Genetic variety to start over again if we possibly do defeat them.”

“We have been too timid for many years and have wasted far too much time trying to figure out a strategy to contact all the humans of earth without producing panic. It was the idea of this little girl that led to us all being here today.” He finished.

She managed to get in the usual stupid, irritating questions for a while.

Sensing a human interest story, the woman seized the opportunity. It was easy for Gwen to see that the woman was shaking like a farm truck in a stream bed.

“Don’t worry lady, Mr. Grok here is my friend.”

“Oh, he is?” she was surprised. After all, how could she reveal her true fear in face of this brave little girl?

“Oh, yes Mam! A few years ago, he fixed me, and now I will always love him”

Poor Grok! He had not known a devotion like this from such a tiny person. If he’d possessed tear ducts, his eyes would have been brimming with tears. As it was, all he could do is wheeze a little and gently squeeze her hand.

The woman asked, “Were you ill?”

Gwen smiled.“Yes, I was born wrong and he made me all right.”

“Yes, and how were you ‘born wrong’?” She asked, gently correcting Gwen’s language.

“I was always a girl inside, but a boy outside. So after the battle, and things were calm, he fixed me and my Dad. They even fixed our house and barn and all that. They were very nice to us after our misunderstanding got worked out.”

Standing a few feet away from Gwen and Grok, Martin and Julie were beaming proud of little Gwen. “All this from the mouth of a babe, eh?” Martin mused. “Here we were, all so worried!” Julie replied.

“I doubt that any of us have appreciated the grave danger we are all in.” Martin said.

Martin was looking back over Grok’s head, toward the balcony and suddenly gasped. “Stay here! And don’t alarm anyone.” He then quietly moved off toward the stairs that went up to the second level.

Julie was looking to where Martin was going and almost fainted. There were two snipers and an officer up there. They seemed to be getting ready to take a shot at Grok!

Julie could hear Martin’s pistol fire once, there was shouting, a shot and then silence. Martin had killed the first sniper, and then the officer as he began to pull his pistol. The other sniper laid his rifle down.

Martin’s look at the other soldier, told him that he was going to die. “There is a problem with these pistols son, you don’t wound people.” The soldier shoved the rifle away as far as he could.

He could hear screaming from below, and looking could see the wounded body of one of the children. Something in Martin snapped and he looked at the soldier. “What in the hell were you thinking?” The surrendered sniper didn’t get a chance to reply, having been bashed in the face with Martin’s pistol. Martin didn’t even know where these Jackasses came from! Later, they all would find out that the three were local gun freaks bent on bagging themselves an Alien.

Grok was at the little Girl’s side with the shrieking mother. “Woman, let me take the girl. Maybe I can save her.”

“Not without me!” The mother exclaimed. The Mom had lost all sign of fear of the big Alien. Grok had been talking into his wrist. In moments, part of the roof was sucked out and a beam appeared on the floor. “Come, we must go now.”

They had no more than stepped into the beam when they were floating up and through the hole.
Their tiny craft was just moving to altitude when a huge shadow appeared above them. In less than a minute the girl was being examined by other Meridians.

There was conversation in a language that Sandy, the girl’s mother, did not understand. There was a soft flare of light around the little girl. Moments later, the circle of Lizards parted and one of them motioned Sandy over to her daughter.

“Mom… the bad man killed me. I have to go, but Mr. Grok said I could talk to you for awhile.” I don’t know how I am alive, but he says they can’t do it long.”

“Oh Jenny, please don’t die!!! Dear God! I’ll do anything. Save her!!!!”

To Be Continued...

Changed By Aliens Chapter 3

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

Fiction

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Changed By Aliens Chapter 3 (Originally written in 2007)
The rest of the story (Chapter 1 and 2) is in my story list. I don't know how to do all the software stuff to attach them.

Changed by Aliens (Chapter 1 and 2)

The first chapter deals the introduction of the family and little intersexed Gwinn who had been thought to be a boy. Then Reptilian Aliens happen on the scene and as usual, the humans start shooting and the Aliens get in on the act, but they have more sense than humans.
In Chapter 2 the relationship between this human family and the Reptilian Aliens develops more and they begin to assist each other.

Gwen and her Parents were being interrogated separately inside the Justice Center building in lower downtown Portland. The plan had been for Grok to be there too, but his attempts to save the little girl who had been shot, took him out of the area.

The huge ship was gone in moments, yet much of the population of east Portland had seen it. They’d scrambled the 4 Jets at the airport but by the time they got in the air and crossed the dozen miles to the shopping center, the Alien ship had climbed out of sight; completely invisible to primitive Radar. The Jets landed again without having shot at anything or even seen anything to shoot at. They were dangerously short of fuel having consumed almost all of it in their desperate ascent to the edge of space in pursuit of who knows what?

This incident alone had Portland buzzing with excited talk about what had happened. The shot child, the huge man in the shopping center, the hole in the ceiling of the shopping center and the scrambled Jets all added to the excitement. None of that could be kept secret and it would be impossible for any sort of disinformation to have any effect.

“Captain Grok” the voice on Grok’s com system said.

“Speak”, Said the Captain.

“I have intercepted communication in the human system that the use of a Tactical Weapon is being considered to demolish the area where the incident happened earlier.”

“Well, don’t let them do it but do not attack them.”

“Very well sir.”

Grok sighed, “These humans are so easily frightened into violence. Once we get them on task, I hope they are up for it.”, He thought.

Logan sat in the parking lot of the Mall and waited for instructions from either Grok or his parents. He’d seen all the military vehicles in the area but he was pretty much in the dark about what had transpired.

Much later in the afternoon, Logan was getting impatient, and decided to run down to Macadonodono’s for some lunch. As he was eating, He got a message from Grok to meet in a wooded area called Sellwood bottom, a wooded, marshy area with hiking trails along the Willamette River, near downtown. When he finally arrived on the edge of it, darkness was approaching. Rain was falling steadily and the chill made a coat necessary. In the gloom, Grok stepped out of the brush and called to Logan.

“Grok, I haven’t seen Mom, Dad or Gwen since they went into the shopping center, what’s happened?” Logan really sounded worried.

“They have been taken to a building in the city and our sensors have located them. I just wanted to let you know what is going on before we do anything else.”

Grok filled Logan in on what had happened and what had happened to the little girl who was shot. We are trying very hard to save her. None of us suspected that she would be shot.

“Are we going to go get them?’ Logan asked.

“Be patient, young cub, we will move soon. We want to talk to those holding them before your military forces build up too much but we also want some significant people there to talk to.”

“When will that be?”

“Only about another two of your hours, or 7:00pm, your time”, Grok said.

Shortly Grok dropped Logan in front of KGW Ch 8 and he went in to talk to the receptionist. They chose that station because of the relatively close but isolated location in regards to the Justice Center.

The evening secretary at the TV station was really reluctant to allow Logan to see anyone.
Logan, being the handsome lad that he is, handed her two rocks and then carefully, grasping only the blade, laid an exotic knife on her desk with them. Of course, he was turning on the charm and gently persuaded her to pick up the knife and do the same to one of the rocks.

“Oh, this is so cool!” she exclaimed!

Looking at the young woman’s name tag, he could see that her name was Darcy. “Darcy, I am not here to hurt anyone, I just need to convince your boss to put a news crew down at the Justice Center.” He said. “Something really big is going to happen really soon. He looked at his watch.

“Actually, it is going to happen in just over an hour” he finished.

Darcy’s shoulder length blonde hair and her charming smile really attracted Logan. She scooted back her chair and stood up, revealing the bottom half of her light blue short skirt suit. She obviously liked Logan.

Darcy smiled at Logan, but she clearly did not want to believe him. “It is pretty radical to show up here with a knife; what if I had screamed and called for the guard?” She said.

Logan really turned on his boyish charm. “Oh, Darcy, I really didn’t want to frighten you. Do I look like someone who is going to hurt anyone?” His smile made Darcy want to puddle at his feet!

“Not really”. She said. It was obvious that she wanted to believe him, and was strongly attracted to Logan.

“Darcy, we really need to cut through the red tape here. This is more important than anything that has ever happened; our lives are at stake” He said. She gingerly picked up the knife and cut the rock, then dropped the knife; squealing emotionally.

“Oh my gosh, this is real isn’t it?” She said. “No one can do what I just did.” For a moment she looked like she was going to pass out, but then the toughness her Marine Corps father gave her began to assert it’s self. “This is about what happened at the Shopping Center, and the little girl, and the UFO and all that isn’t it!” She said. Darcy was so excited that she was almost shouting now.

Her voice was quivering, and her hands were shaking. With that she let out a short shriek and backed away from the desk. With that, the guard came running into the room, but she was on the phone to the News Desk and they immediately had someone down to talk to Logan.

At Frank, the news guy’s direction, the front door was locked and Logan was taken to a Frank’s office.

Darcy, the receptionist had run screaming into the Ladies room, it was hard to be a girly girl and share some of the genes of her father! Being smart, she soon calmed down enough to bring coffee to the room where Logan and Frank were talking. After seeing the pictures of Logan’s family along side Grok, the News guy quickly had dollar signs in his eyes.

“Is this related to what happened over at “Town Center” today?” Frank asked?

“Oh, that and much more; all the recent sightings of strange looking men saving people; it is all related and I have to tell you that it all comes to a head tonight. We all have to wake up and start to do what we need to do or Earth is going to be wiped out!” Logan finished.

Frank looked at Logan like he was just a dumb kid. “Look, kid, you expect me to believe all this and you show up practically empty handed?”

Just then, a much more put together Darcy stepped forward and laid the split rock and the knife in front of Frank.

“Pick up the rock Frank.” She said. He looked like he was just going to laugh at her.

“Fine, watch this!” She picked up the knife and with almost no effort at all cut a neat hole in the top of his desk.

“My God, are you the same sweet little girl that sits at the front desk? Geez, you have Chutzpah!” Frank said. He laughed out loud, but quickly got back on task. Frank being a news guy was hard to surprise and he viewed these sorts of things with all the glee of a child. Besides, a couple of years in Afghanistan left him a lot tougher.

In the next few minutes, Logan, Frank and Darcy talked things out. Frank was actually a pretty nice guy once you got him on board. And, he recognized a great story when it cut a hole in his desk!

“OK, so this Grok fellow wants you to ride down with our news crew. Then we will interview you at the scene and shortly after that Grok will enter the Justice Center.” Frank said.

“Sure Frank. Grok’s entrance will be sort of spectacular, though no one will be hurt. You have to realize that these Aliens are trying to help us, not harm us.” Logan Said.

Logan and Darcy rode downtown with the KGW news driver, and waited for Grok’s signal. When Darcy left the office with Logan, Frank said to her,

“Wait, where do you think you are going?”

Darcy turned and looked at Frank with more determination than a meter maid; then she grabbed Logan’s arm.

Frank looked at both of them for a moment; knowing that he could not win this one. He’d just met a much more amazing Darcy than he had hired. “OK, go ahead; I’ll get Janice to watch the desk.”

So, Darcy and Logan were in a little park, across the street from the Justice Center with the news crew and their truck when things around them seemed to go suddenly quiet.

“Hey, this is Grok” the tiny com unit that Grok had given Logan said. It sounded as if Grok was right in front of Logan. “Listen here young Cub; it is “show time” as your TV says. Grok sounded so funny the way he said it. Logan broke out in a smile and giggled a little. Presently, Grok’s Semi sized ship winked into view about half way up the tall building, and just sat there. The landing pylons were extended and Grok had also extended instrumentation that made the craft look far less threatening, as long as the military types didn’t figure out the purpose of the instrumentation.

John, the Camera man quickly yelled to Charlotte, the news woman. “Better get out here Char, you are not going to believe this.” Charlotte quickly scrambled out of the truck, smoothing her skirt suit and doing her best to keep her heels from sinking in the grass. The two quickly re-oriented the set up so she could stand on the sidewalk with the space ship in the back ground. The Camera man had to lie down and shoot up at her for the starter shot, and then they switched to split screen with her in one and the ship in the other. That permitted a much more photogenic angle on her.

Back at the station, where the signal from the Justice Center would be edited, the crew was laughing about the marvelous up skirt shot of Charlotte. At least she’d worn panties! “Yep, that’ll never make the air”.

Frank, looking over their shoulders, “It better not, either, John”.

Grok allowed her to talk for a minute or two and then vaporized the wall of the building, leaving a tunnel into the interior. The only noise was a loud hum and then a cloud of dust drifting away in the light breeze. Of course this set off all sorts of alarms, with the fire department arriving within a few minutes. The Feds did not like the news there and quickly moved to tell them to leave. As the Homeland Security people moved to force the issue, a huge bright beam of light originating from Grok’s ship, seared a burning ditch around the news van and the crew. Homeland Security was rather fast to get the idea.

Grok had opened a closed tunnel right into the room where the Brown family sat. Before the interrogators could move, Grok was in the room with them. Of course, those viewing the room on closed circuit TV knew all about it. The passage came in at an odd angle to avoid critical building systems and personnel in the way.

A woman began to scream as her path down a hall way was blocked by the sudden appearance of the Alien construction placed there.

Grok calmly walked over to the mirror and said through it. “Please get your supervisor in here.” He then walked over and sat in two chairs. He looked uncomfortable. “Geez guys, can’t you get something more comfortable to sit in?” The two interrogators sat there looking dumfounded for a minute, but one of them wilted under Grok’s stare and left to consult with his boss.

“OK, look, this is wasting time that we don’t have. This whole day and much of the last several weeks was meant to accustom you to our appearance. It was little Gwen’s idea that it would be best.” Grok said calmly.

Gwen started to get up and come over to Grok but one of the interrogators told her not to move.

Grok said. “I am losing patience with you, SIR!” His voice boomed out, shaking the room. “It’s OK sweetheart, you can sit on my lap.”

“We are on the verge of an invasion that will wipe all life out on this planet out. We need your help to save you and hopefully there will be a synergy between our two races and we will be able to find a way to stop them permanently.” Grok lectured the Homeland Security people.

The Interrogator had this snotty look on his face. “Look, cut the clown show will ya buddy?”

Mr. Brown looked at him. “Look BUDDY, we have been really patient with you so we did not frighten you any more than necessary. Now I am getting really tired of your superiority complex and, arrogant attitude. Take your helmet off Grok”

Grok hesitated for a moment then calmly pulled his helmet off. Inside was a scaled, reptilian face with a short snout. Grok looked at the guy for a moment and then stuck his 12” split tongue out at the guy and said “BOO!”

One of the guys behind the mirror, said, “Geez, I bet the girls love him”. He’d forgotten about Adela, a large, robust but earthy and lovable black woman in the room. “Yeah, and I bet he is much more well endowed than you, tweezer man.”

Back in the interrogation room, finally having gotten the message, the recalcitrant agent slid his chair back as far as he could and then climbed up in it, looking like he’d just seen a dragon; which in a sense he had.

Gwen, who was very used to Grok and having not entirely understood the gravity of the situation said, “Oh, Grok, please don’t burn him up.” Everyone in the room except Tweezer Man, laughed hysterically. It was a nice break from all the tension.

Julie, Martin’s wife had finally had enough. “Look, little man; sit down in your chair and start doing your damned job. I haven’t eaten in hours and neither has my child and pretty soon, I am going to let Grok take us out of here for dinner, BUDDY!”

Grok looked over at Julie and said, “Calm down Julie, don’t scratch his eyes out yet, we need him.” With that, Grok began doing his imitation of a human’s laugh which sounded like the wheeze of a horse.

Outside, it had been two hours since this all started. Everyone was waiting to see what was going on. The mobile kitchens were out, and the Police, clearly getting bored were standing around in small groups. The News Choppers had been kept outside 1 mile, but with the FLIR cameras, that was hardly a problem. Suddenly, two Military Choppers showed up; none of those dazzling flybys, they just sort of eased into place within a block of Grok’s Shuttle.

Grok had given careful instructions that the choppers be there to make it look like the Military had everything under control.

“Grok, we will make every effort to cooperate with you.” President Smith said. “I know it has taken a while to make us aware of you in a way that our security people could not keep secret.” With that Smith looked at his Chief of staff and said, “Is there any confusion here about the program now?”

“Oh, no Mr. President, Grok and his people will have our full cooperation.”

Grok said, “By the way, Mr. President, There are five of your Tactical Nuclear Weapons sitting on runways ready to be launched at my forces. Do you want to tell them to stand down or should I destroy them on the ground?”

“General Forge?” The President said. By now the President was growing really impatient.

“Grok, I am going on National Television as soon as the equipment is set up. This situation will be normalized right now. And, you have my permission to neutralize any forces which act in a hostile manner.”

The disgruntled President looked at General Forge. “Were you aware of this treachery, even after I gave my promise?” The General stood there looking at the President.

“Very well, you are relieved and will be held pending an inquiry.” The President stood there for a moment and turned to go to the oval office.

Momentarily, “My fellow Americans…”

Grok said,” Command, please verify that the President’s message is indeed on a live feed to all the networks and that they are carrying it?”

In a few moments, “Yes Captain, it is being done as you requested.”

Grok turned to Gwen’s family. “I know you are all tired and it has been a long day.” Shall we go?

“Grok?”

“Yes Child?”

“Can we stop at my favorite Hamburger place on the way home?”

His shuttle moved away from the building and began to sink to the ground with its landing pylons still extended. The homeland security guys had been given communication to pull back and the shuttle stopped about 15 feet from the ground.

The Brown Family came down a stair way and walked over to talk to Charlotte on the News Crew. A minute later, Grok came down the stairs and walked over too. No one needed to be prompted to stay away from Grok.

Logan and the rest of his family were reunited and there was a short conversation relating what had happened.

Martin Brown seemed to be the spokes person at first. “We’ve been trying to set up a peaceful meeting between Grok and the authorities for months. It is really urgent that this get through the initial phases and that our two races begin to cooperate right away. The future of both peoples rests upon this being a success. I can not tell you how urgent this is. It really is life and death.”

Charlotte seemed to recognize the seriousness of the situation, and dispensing with all the newsy methods, began asking uncharacteristically civil questions. “Mr. Brown, what will happen now that contact has been made?”

Martin stood there momentarily thinking. “Well, Charlotte, we can not move too fast on this since progress and cooperation is vital to our survival. As fast as we can, we are going to establish liaison with every government that wishes to do so because our society must advance several thousand years almost instantly.”

“Where will the Meridians settle?” She asked.

“Tonight, we are all returning to our home in eastern Oregon, and then within a week we hope to have Meridian Ground teams communicating world wide. There is going to be terrific culture shock for every one on Earth, and it is the wish of the Meridians that the cultures of each country remain intact.”

“What will happen after that?” Charlotte asked.
Martin turned to Grok. “Come on pal help me out with this.” Several people including Charlotte could be heard giggling about Martin calling Grok, Pal.

“Certainly, little buddy”, his voice sounded just like the Captain’s voice from a certain popular TV comedy about a ship wrecked pleasure boat. That did a lot to break the tension.

“OK, in big steps, we need to protect the citizens of Earth. We also need to build starships that can fight our mutual enemy. Most of all, we need the synergy that joining our two races will provide. We need a superior way to stop them from wiping us both out. We need to end this once and for all.” Grok finished.

Grok then turned to Charlotte, “Young woman, you see very calm in the face of all this.”

“Oh, thank you, um, sir. My major is in International Diplomacy, but I took this job because I thought it would be interesting.” Charlotte said.

“Well, I need someone to help us with information, would you like to come with us at least temporarily?” Grok asked.

Charlotte only had to think for a moment. “You bet”.

Grok understood her perfectly, but wanted to add some humor to help people feel more at ease. “Oh, young Woman, I do not need to bet you, but I do need your help”.

Grok may not have realized it but by recruiting a Woman first, it made him acceptable to at least half the population on Earth.

Later that evening on the helipad at Providence Hospital, little Danica, the child who'd been shot in the Shopping Center, and her Mom were delivered to waiting hospital personnel.

The girl and her Mother were left at the hospital and three Medical Interns got on the ship. In video conferences that had lasted hours, Median and Human Doctors talked about little Danica; how the shot had severed the Axillary vein returning to the heart from her left arm, just before its junction with veins leaving the neck. It is a wound that would have been fatal had the girl not been in the care of individuals with very advanced techniques in such a short time. In human terms, the Meridians had slowed time by a factor of 60 in the immediate area of her body.

That gave them time to effectively kidnap one of the Doctors from Providence Hospital, and working together, devise an successful treatment plan. They combined materials and skills that were compatible to humans from Meridian medical stores. The girl would live! Once the emergency was over, she still faced normal human convalescent protocol.

MONTHS LATER

Martin Brown leaned back in his chair and surveyed the flat basin outside the window of his new office. Sometimes he just had to stop for a while and do nothing while his mind hopelessly tried to catch up.

The Brown home on the rim of the canyon had become the hub of activity for a week or so and then this office, adapted from several double wide manufactured homes was set in place. Stretched across the flat expanse of sage brush and grasses, lay the staging area for several buildings that were going up. A network of hard surface roads and landing pads had literally sprung up over night.

Grok was the real leader in the war effort. It was easy for Martin to see that. Still the regard that Grok showed for him and all the other humans just astonished him. Grok was very careful to fully engage humans and Meridians alike in the effort. There simply was not any time for any “Idols’ to be created.

Working together, 11 small war ships were under construction on Earth. 21 were being built on the Moon. There were plans for construction sites on Mars. The moon and Mars were harder because the shell needed to be air tight before work could be performed suit-less.

The construction of the carbon based biological control systems was being done 10,000 feet deep in the Pacific Ocean off Japan. The depth eliminated the requirement for heavy pressure vessels to manufacture them. The Japanese seemed to have an inherent interest and aptitude for the skills needed, so most of that work was quickly “deeded” to them. Of all the races on Earth, so far the Japanese seemed most adaptable to the Meridians.

Several of the ships were being constructed on the flat desert of Saudi Arabia. Once the Mullahs and Princes understood the threat, the whole nation took it on as a sort of “Jihad”. The Meridians adapted easily to the desert heat there since it was almost as warm as their long destroyed home planet.

Little Gwen and Julie were over there now, working on understanding some housing issues for the workers at the camps. It had been decided early on that there would be no expatriate housing; that those who worked on the ships in Saudi Arabia would work out their differences.

“Look Gentlemen, no Meridian wants to destroy your society, but I must tell you that it is absolutely necessary for the survival of the human race that old grudges and differences go away. The only word that is operative here is “immediately”” Grok had used his deepest, most rumbling voice to convey his message.

In response, many of the ages old cultural differences just evaporated. The Burqua disappeared from the work site. The mini skirt and skimpy tank tops never arrived. The word “Kufur” disappeared from the Muslim vocabulary. The focus was on building ships and cooperation.

The prayer of five times a day still happened, but many of the Wudu observances were truncated. World wide, visitors from other countries, adopted simplified customs compatible to the host country. There was only time for one task.

In Saudia, the old customs remained. Any woman in that country wore the modest clothing. If they did not want to do that, they did not come.

11 year old Gwen began searching through the files on her computer for the proposal that Mom and her had brought for the universal Hijab. She had to be careful to wipe her fingers after each bite of food. The meal they were sharing with the other women was just out of this world. The Women had done something to the meat and it had this lemony flavor to it. The Dates were great too!

Julie was talking to several of the Muslim Women, “Ok Ladies, we want all this to be the least painful for you. This is your country and we have no desire to destroy your way of life, and we all must face the need to adapt to the events unfolding about us. We’ve reviewed your complaints and now we have a response to them which we hope will make life easier for you all.”

“Gwen, show us the Hijab model that the Meridians designed for us.” Julie said.

“Sure Mom. We think that you will enjoy this Hijab. It looks a lot like what you call an Al-Amira Hijab. It also incorporates power cells to keep your head cool or warm according to outside conditions. It also completely blocks harmful UV. We are asking that you adopt other clothing that is appropriate for your work task. I think you will find it all keeps you covered. The Meridians are sharing anything you want to know about how to keep cool too.” Gwen said.

Please notice that there are no hanging edges or loose flaps. For the first time in Muslim history, women will work right along side men in completing this vital task. We really understand the coverings but there will come times when it is simply not possible. I hope that we can work out solutions that will make everyone comfortable.

A beautiful middle aged Saudi woman, reached up to remove her Hijab. Some of the other women did too, and some gasped in dismay. “The removal of the Hijab in your presence is a sign that we accept you as sisters and not Kufur. I believe that Allah SWT wants this.” She said.

“Yes and the forbidding of pork and music in public is a further proof that you want to respect our customs. We thank you so much for that.” Another young woman said. It was obvious that her eyes were brimming with tears and she was deeply moved by that concession.

Julie asked,” So, does that mean the present objections are satisfied?”

“My name is Hala Maksoud. I will admit that I am often not a good Muslimah, but I try very hard. I have long been criticized for wanting to be more western. This way I can be western and please my husband.” She said.

“I am Huda, what is your name child?” She asked

“As Salaam Alaykum, Huda, my name is Gwen” Gwen looked so proud to be able to surprise the woman with a common Saudi greeting.

All the other women laughed, clapped and trilled.

“Oh, child, you honor us much.” Hala said.

Most of the women who had held back became involved and as they became acquainted, true friendship among the women began to develop. There were two who all this was too much for. Huda and Julie saw them leave as they talked.

“Oh dear, I do hope that they can eventually begin to accept all this.” Huda said.

“Huda, I know that this is all a huge shock for your people. We are going to tell the others that national customs in all countries must not disappear. With all the other shocks, the customs of a people are the only link to sanity that they have.” Julie said.

Little arms went around Julie’s waist. “Moom, I am really tired. Can we go to bed for a while?” Gwen visibly sagged against Julie’s soft side.

Huda looked down at little Gwen. “Oh child, you must be very tired; how old are you?”

“I’m 11 but all this is making me grow up too much. I’m just a little kid”!

“Yes child and far too fast, I think. You do the work of a big person without complaint” Huda said.

“Thanks” Gwen sighed. She visibly sagged against Mom’s soft side.

Huda looked at Julie. “I know that we still have much work to do but would you allow me to find a place for your child to rest?”

“You know, Gwen does so much, I forget that she is still a child; could you please?” Julie said.

The women were all housed in a Tent a few miles back from the shell of one of the war ships. It was 115 degrees outside, but due to Meridian technology, it was very comfortable in the tent.

Huda quietly led Julie and Gwen through an enclosed passage into a dimly lit tent strewn with pillows and light blankets.

“What do you think about taking a nap here, Habibi?” Huda asked.

Gwen let out a mix of a soft sigh and plaintive sob. She just dropped to the sleeping pad in front of her. Julie covered her with a light blanket. “Thank you.” Gwen said softly.

“Huda, what is a Habibi?’ Gwen asked

“It means sweet heart” She said softly.

Julie and Huda looked down at the child. “I think she is already asleep.” Huda whispered.

The two women turned and began walking back to the other tent. Behind them, a contented smile spread across the face of the child.

“Damn”, Martin swore, as he watched his toast slither off his plate and into the sink full of soapy dish water. “Oh, well, I’m probably getting a little fat. Man, I need Julie to be here, I am married, not a bachelor!” He roared, suddenly losing his temper. Deep inside he knew he only missed her. It seemed like it was the small things that set him off. His habit in the morning was two fried eggs and two pieces of buttered toast, with peanut butter on one and Jelly on the other. By now his coffee was getting cold. Julie made it all seem so easy, he lamented to himself.

Logan and 19 other men were training on the Meridian ship systems. They had already made several trips out past Pluto. They’d even done trips outside the solar plane. A trip to Mars and back was about 3 hours.

“Well, Andus, is there any hope?” Grok asked.

“Old friend, this is our last chance, there must be hope. The humans are very intelligent and would have been much more advanced had it not been for the aggressiveness that they unleash on each other. “

“Do you have a genetic correction to propose?”

“I would but if I use it, they will be more docile and that could easily backfire. Their males seem bent on dominating their mates, but the women seem adequately accommodative as long as more advanced societal structures are in place. Saudia will be our model for that region. They seem most adaptable to an increased role of their women, and surprisingly the women seem most adept at prodding the men to achievement. There is one country in the area where the Men seem particularly primitive, and we may just eliminate them.

“What is that area called?”

“Afghanistan”.

On Sunday, Gwen and her Mom arrived back in Oregon. The Sun was just coming up.

“Mom, do you think Daddy is up yet? Gwen said.

“I don’t know sissy. Please don’t wake him. I just know what that house is going to look like and I want to straighten it up and cook Daddy breakfast.”

Gwen got a quizzical look on her face. “Mom, I’ll help you.”

Later, Julie and Gwen had waded though the mess that poor Martin had made of the Kitchen. She’d fixed Martin Eggs, Waffles, and Saudia Lamb.

With all the construction around the house, Martin had turned a fan on full in the bedroom to mask the sound. He had been so tired the night before that he’d taken a sleeping pill and was really out of it. Julie let him sleep until 9:00 AM and then went into the Bedroom.

Julie eased up on the bed, and Martin began to stir. When she eased down and kissed him wetly full on the mouth, his eyes popped open.

“Mmmmm.” Martin hummed. “Are you trying to start something Missy?”

“Maybe later; I had a nice chat with Huda while I was in Saudia. She was telling me of Saudi women’s ways.”

“I have really missed you. Are you going to spoil me?” Martin said sleepily.

She wiggled out of his grasp and sprang to the floor. “Come on Za’og, your breakfast is waiting” she said affectionately.

“Huh?’

Later at breakfast, “Julie, I am so happy you are home, I was missing you a lot.” Martin said appreciatively.

She moved around to his side and he placed his arm around her hips since he was sitting and she was standing. “I missed you too Sweetums”. She buried his head below her breasts, hugging him tightly. When his hands began to roam too intimately, she quickly wiggled out of his grasp as she giggled provocatively.

“Hey” Martin said.

“Hey what?”

What is Zog?

“Zog?”

“Oh, you mean Za’og.” That is Arabic for husband.

“Oh, I thought that it was something that Grok taught you.”

Gwen sat there eating her breakfast. She was taking it all in without saying anything. “I wonder if Huda will teach me like she did Mom?” She thought.

Would the Humans and the Meridians defeat their common enemy? Grok stood there looking at the predictive plot for the enemy. It appeared that using various counter measures, their arrival could be delayed for another two earth years. What would happen then? The humans were such enthusiasts of chaos. He’d begun the education on weapons systems. Now they needed one of the earthlings to make a connection that his race had missed. The humans were working under seemingly unbearable pressure.

It had been a good decision not to transplant his culture to earth. He was allowing the humans to maintain their own cultural barriers. Except for that one dry and arid country which seemed so bent on tormenting half its population.

That morning, he’d decided to set the Mother Ship down in the Mountains of Afghanistan. He’d decided to manage that population himself. There seemed to be a virulent presence there. It would be good recreation for his men in their rest periods.

Computer School

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Younger Audience (g/y)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

A winsome little story with an odd twist.

(Editing) 5/12/2021

Special Computer School
By
Gwen Brown

By age 4, they decided that I was a Savant of some sort, but they could not decide my specialty. It seemed that I excelled in whatever they tested me. Later, I found records of about every kind of scan they could do on my Brain, and I do not think they understood anything. One Scientist seemed to think that I was the first evolutionary step beyond present day humans. The only issue is that a Neurological deficiency kept me from being normally mobile. I did not use crutches or a wheelchair, but when I walked my balance was awful, staggering and I sometimes fell, though I seemed to have enough control while going down to not injure myself and for that I was thankful. Recently, I found out that my brain was too busy to bother much with walking. Strangely, I could easily ride a bicycle. Boys would never be a problem because I was not pretty and I had no desire. Being Intersex I did not know the difference. They named me Savanah.

They put me in a special school when I was six. Mother could not handle me. I was good and not hyperactive but just not responsive to her the way she wanted. Father was gone most of the time. I wanted Mother’s affection and care so much, but it seemed that I got the most love from our next-door neighbor, Mrs. Brown. I would miss Mrs. Brown the most. My two older brothers and my younger sister seemed different from me. I was not normal, and it was like they had a party as I left on the day, they put me in the residential school. I had never revealed to them, or anyone that I could hear lots of people thinking. I especially did not tell anyone at that school. When the Family got rid of me, it taught me to never trust anyone.

They were not affectionate to any of us children. Our meals were in individual cubicles in a sort of Cafeteria. The food was nothing special, but we did not starve. We were allowed outside one hour, three times a day to walk a playground with an extremely high wire fence with concertina wire on top. There were places where you could look out and see trees and other buildings. We were in a big city. On the playground, there was a drinking fountain and a bathroom but nothing else, no swings or games to play. Some of the other kids had been violent and that was swiftly reacted to. Several of the children had mobility issues like me, and a few were on crutches or wheels. They tried to get me to use a walker, but I refused, and I was thankful that they did not force or penalize me for that.

It does not appeal to me to talk to any of the other children and I was quickly branded Antisocial. In our classes, they put us in little cubicles alone, with a computer, and a soft chair that could be upright or lay clear down so we could rest. There was a bathroom and sink in the room with three of us children. During the day as we studied, I gradually started to hear more thoughts, but I did not tell anyone about that. I quickly told whoever it was to not reveal anything because if we did, the creep Doctors would brand us Schizoid or put us in cages. Oh, that would come later. I would be there for a little over 10 years. I was about 14 when the dreams began. Everything at the school was still the same but they had started locking some of us in cages when we slept.

As my consciousness changed, I knew that I had been sleeping and was actually just now waking up. Two levels of dreaming?! A dream within a dream? I did not know that could happen. Very confused, I wondered how I could have dreamed about dreaming and had been in several layers of dream sleep? This was something I had never heard of!

I do not know how he got me out of the school. Did he have someone do it, or did he move me with his mind? Was I visible when it was done? I would make quite a site floating down the hall and out of the building completely naked.

Later, I knew that I was free and likely had been all along. I was able to stand up, to move about, albeit still completely naked. The blindfold was absent, perhaps having never been there, and it was clear that I was in someone’s house, a luxurious bedroom with my knees on the carpet and laying on the quilted bed. Looking around, there were no clothes, and the closets were empty. The room was warm enough but being so exposed felt really uncomfortable. Cautiously, I began to explore. The living room was nicely furnished, with a low counter separating it from the kitchen, and there appeared to be food in the cupboards and refrigerator. Passing a bathroom, I felt my need and used it. There was toilet paper but no towels.

I passed a door that opened out into an empty Garage. The Button to open the door did not work. I found the front door but could not open it. Going toward what I thought was the back of the house, I found that I could look out upon a huge empty looking semidesert from the top of a high cliff. There was a balcony out there and I could open the sliding door to it. I would have been happier with clothes but believing I was alone, decided to venture out there. It was hot out there and soon I decided to go inside. When I turned, the door was shut and locked. How had that happened? There was a low chair out there, so I sat on it.

There was a buzzing, and something seemed like it invaded my mind and it felt like someone was entering me. Looking down, I could not see anything. I heard a click and humming, and the door opened. I was guided to get up and go into the house.
Silently, he spoke to my mind. ‘You are going to live here for now. In time, you will be given clothes and more food, but for now you just have to stay as you are. You will not return to that ghastly school. I found this house and bought it by tricking the internet into giving me money from the hidden accounts at the school. They will miss it but never figure out who took it.

He told me that moving me from the school to this house was almost too much for him. He had lots of practice, having been playing with this gift for a long time. Being blind, the first thing he had to do was train his mind to see. The most difficult part was just seeing in his room. It seemed that when he could go out in the hall, it was not that long until he got outside and then managed to visit other towns. He said that about 75 miles seemed to be about his limit for now.

Eventually I could talk back to the mind that ruled me, and I asked questions but I either tired quickly or he shut me out when he was tired of me. We would talk more and built a close relationship over time, but neither of us wanted to trust anyone. As we talked, the ability to do so and see things increased.

One day, I saw that he was in the infirmary wing of the school, and almost completely paralyzed and blind. The lights only came on in his room when they were working on him. He had figured out that when he was doing things on the Internet or letting his mind travel, his vital signs would increase markedly, depending upon what he was doing.

Over the months as we got to know each other better, he confided that he thought that one day, they would figure out what he was doing and stop him or kill him. At first, I tried to discount what he was saying, but one morning they came in and put-up Cameras, put a permanent EEG and EKG on him. I knew that they suspected something with him now.

He was suddenly gone, and in a few days, I knew that they had either caught him or worse. One night in a dream, I seemed to journey to the school, and found him. He was more wired up than I could imagine. I could somehow see the power going through the wires. I said, “Hi” to him, and he said, “Can’t talk, they’ll know”. I wanted to scream! How could they do this?

I left his room and roamed the halls, finding my way around the school. At the Nurse’s station, there were two Nurses and a man that seemed like a Doctor. There were monitors that showed lots of the rooms. “His” room was unmistakable. I felt myself tiring and was suddenly back in bed, and wide awake.

In the morning when it was just getting light, I tried the front door, and it would open. There was a gravel drive that ran away from the house. A long way away, I could see what looked like red and white jewels, but I knew they must be cars moving along the highway, a long way away.

I went in and shut the door and locked it. I slept until I was hungry and then got up and ate.

There were deliveries to the house, and they were put in the Garage. I do not know how the man got the door open.

All this seemed so surreal. I did not know if any of this was real or if I was dreaming, or even hallucinating. For now, I believed it was all real. It seemed for sure that Stewart had been controlling all this. Now, it seemed as though he was in a great deal of trouble.

I rested all that day, and late at night when I lay down to sleep, I found myself in Stewarts room again. I was so close to him that we chanced communicating some. I watched all the instruments and we seemed safe enough. He told me how to get into his accounts and buy groceries and some clothing.

The door suddenly opened and one of the Nurse came in. She did not seem to be in a hurry, so we believed that she was just checking on Stewart. He told me that if I could get the room power off, he could get online and order me a computer and Internet service. He would get one of his providers to set it up so it would be several VPNs and would automatically switch between them. He told me what he thought controlled the power to his room. I looked behind a coat rack and found it. I was not used to doing physical things with my mind, so with some difficulty I managed to turn two switches off, and Stewart was free. He did not waste time and in moments the EEG and another thing had smoke rolling out of them, and that set off the Fire Alarm, which was on another system.

Stewart told me to quickly find the Emergency Generator, and the Cafeteria. Later, if needed, he would have me disable that and set a fire in the Cafeteria. By the time I left there, I was so tired that I was back in bed in my room but did not waken until morning, when I heard the garage door open. I hid in the Bathroom until I heard it close. I was excited and ran out to the garage. There were several packages there and I carried them in.

Stewart had been so thorough in his shopping that I was almost mad at him. Had he seen me naked? Then I realized that if I could see him, then he had probably been doing that for I do not know how long. I found skirts and dresses, tops, and pants, and even panties, but no bras. I had never worn one. The teachers never expected most of us to leave there, so why would we need full clothing?

I was still playing with my new clothes when I heard another truck, and then another. As it developed, one of the trucks was there to install Satellite Internet. Another truck brought the computer stuff and the peripherals. At the special School, we had all had lots of extra time to explore about computers, how they worked, how to repair them, and so much more. Since I was already 14 years old, I knew to stay out of the technician’s way.

Over the next several days, I visited Stewart in his room at night and carried out his instructions during the day. The power outage in his room was thought to be a defective EEG machine. Still, Stewart was offline and anything we did, we had to be careful about.

One evening when I went to visit Stewart, he said that he figured out how to get power from the house system. He told me that as soon as he could figure out how to do it, he planned to somehow charge up and then escape. He planned to fly out to the house in the hills, but he wanted to make sure that they would not know where he went and could not find him. He knew that his family got lots of money from a relative to keep him in the school and once he was gone, he thought that the money would stop.

Days later, I went to visit Stewart, and he was not there. I searched until I found him in a room with no windows and the only bed was a block of concrete in the middle of the floor. He was strapped to it and had an EKG, EEG, IV, Catheter, and oxygen hooked to him. I could see two Cameras in the room. The only door was accessible from the outside only. I knew that action needed to come soon, but how Stewart was to be gotten out of the room was a mystery to her. The walls looked thick and like solid concrete.

Outside the building, she sent to Stewart that she was working on getting him out but told him not to reply.

In a few days I deduced how to disconnect the power from the Grid and to disable the Generator. There was another set of cables that ran to yet another Generator in the woods in a Tunnel. She left that one alone but set up a way to cut the cable to it if she needed to. Working together, Stewart and I figured out how to move him out of the room and use the Generator in the woods to power them both. We disconnected it and set up a way to carry it between them. We stopped and rested twice before getting them to the house.

The house rested behind a wooded ridge and the we quickly decided that light from it should not be seen from the valley. It took them months to make various improvements. Oversized Solar would end the need for outside power. It felt dangerous to have Contractors install the panels and hook it to the house. We hid out in the house while they did it.

While Stewart was blind, his powerful mind, after lots of effort, helped him to decode the signals that came off of Video cameras. Eventually he was walking again with the assistance of a walker, and a Camera helped him with a semblance of vision. We still had food and other supplies delivered. Stewart had purchased a corridor of land that contained the access road to the house, and an easement a few hundred feet on either side. I hired a Surveyor to put in a red tape all the way around their property. The special tape had a wire filament in it and when he was finished Stewart and Savanah installed a weak microwave signal that would follow the tape. If it were damaged, they would know it and also know the location of the break.

We would live there for many years without being bothered. In time we learned how to free other special children. Those who perpetrated the abuse of the children would never find them.

This is the end, and it is mildly autobiographical where that would be credible.

(Edit finished) 5-12-2021

Construction Diva

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Other Keywords:

spanking

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

The guys at work liked Ernie. Without much conversation at all, they always knew he was somehow different, but he could outwork any operator there, and he was good for a little joking now and then. Would Ernie's secret ruin everything?

When the big Excavator on the Construction site shut down for lunch, an observer would expect a big hulking man to climb out of it. Instead, Ernie scampered down off the tall tracks. He was a skinny, short, hippie looking kid with long light brown hair. He usually kept it under his helmet but today it had fallen down around his shoulders. He picked his way daintily across the site to the lunch trailer, trying as hard as he could to keep dry and out of the mud. The Carhart Coveralls and Jacket he wore made him appear much manlier than when he was in normal street clothes.

The rest of the guys just plodded along like they owned the world; not always missing mud holes. There was nothing graceful about them. They all went into the trailer together. They’d stand there scraping the big stuff off their boots and then leave their muddy trails into the Lunch room.

In the trailer, there was the usual talk of last weekend’s game; the usual comments about whose truck was best; and a few jokes about the smallest guy on the crew, Ernie. Of course everyone knew that the guy who drove the Ford pickup would have the biggest lie about it. Ernie usually tried to scurry out of the trailer before the guys got bored and started chiding him about needing a booster seat for his Excavator. Most of the time, they good naturedly teased him and he didn’t really mind too much. Most of them treated him like a little brother.

Ernie was a good worker and friendly to the other guys. They all liked him, except a couple rednecks who no one liked. Once in a while they’d start harassing Ernie, and old Jack would threaten to throttle them. It seemed that Jack or one of the other guys were always around where Ernie was working. He just thought that they were being friendly. To an outsider, it would seem a lot like they were protecting Ernie.

The only real problem that Frank had with Ernie is his constant tardiness to work. It didn’t matter that he could move twice the dirt of any operator he had. The kid needed to show up on time or it would make the other guys think they could do it too. Every now and then, he’d call Ernie in and chew his ass real good. The kid would straighten up for a while.

Ernie stood just over 5’ 1” and the only day he weighed 100lbs was when it was raining and the mud on his boots and clothes gave him a little help. Today he felt nervous and excited. He was leaving on 30 Days of Vacation. He’d told everyone that he was going to Mexico, but he was really going to Thailand. He’d been really closed mouth about his plans.

“Hey Ernie, maybe down south you’ll find a woman really short, like you.” Jack said. If it had been anyone else than Jack, Ernie would have been upset. If he did get upset, it didn’t do any good. Being so small, none of the guys really paid attention to him if he did. They mostly liked him and if he was just nice, and massaged their egos a little, they would listen to him.

Once when one of the guys had dumped a shovel of dirt on Ernie’s seat, he got really mad, shaking his fists and spitting like a mad cat. Everyone just laughed about it. So, Ernie just walked out, slamming the door.

Frank stepped out of his office and said, “Ok knock it off you guys, and quit picking on little sister”. You all know damned good and well that he makes it so I don’t have to hire a second operator. I’ve been sharing the savings with you.
“Now, who in the hell dumped the dirt in Ernie’s cab?” “Uh, I did boss”, Jim said.

“Look Jim, you know what a clean freak Ernie is? Now get out there and help the little kid clean it up.”

At that, Frank Chuckled a little, and everyone else in the shack burst out laughing.

That was Friday, and Ernie would be gone on Vacation now.

The work site seemed different without Ernie around; boring somehow, no one to joke about. So, the month passed even though things felt somehow dull without the kid.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ernie had just return from a Vacation that was supposed to be a month long but extended to six weeks because he’d picked up a bug in Mexico, he said. He was just too sick to come to work. Ernie did not realize just how long it would take to recover from his surgeries. Maybe he’d had too much done.

His boss said he was about to lay him off and get someone else but when Ernie came to work to ask for more time off, he looked like he should be in the hospital. His cheeks were sunken and sallow.

Frank, Ernie’s boss looked at Ernie with a funny look on his face. He thought Ernie looked really different for some reason. With his hard hat, ear muffs, and huge safety glasses on the boss couldn’t tell much but he kept getting the feeling he was looking at a girl. Ernie had never looked much like a man, but since he’d been sick, Ernie looked down right feminine. He decided not to kid the young man about it. It looked as if he could collapse right in front of his desk.

“Geez kid, I hope you get better soon, I really need you here working”

“Thank you, Frank, I promise that two weeks will be enough.” Ernie said.

Frank followed Ernie out of the trailer because he was on his way over to check out the surveyors’ new stakes. On the way down the steps, Ernie began to fall down, but Frank reached out and grabbed him around the chest before he went down.

Ernie, let out a scream that sounded just like his wife, and then pried Franks arm off of his chest.

Frank was concerned. “What the hell you screamin’ like that for kid, you sound like my wife?”

“Sorry boss, you got my, ah, sunburn. It really hurts.”

“You sure you’re OK kid?” He could tell that Ernie’s eyes were full of tears. Frank was really getting concerned, the kid’s voice didn’t even sound right.

“Yes, I just need to go home and get back in bed.”

“Kid, I know that you are the best operator here but I don’t want you here if you are going to keel over on me.” Frank kept his voice gruff. The kid was not going to know that Frank thought of him almost like a son.

“Hey Ernie, we have to start that 8 level underground parking structure in a couple weeks. If you ain’t back by then, I have to get another operator. You know how it is.”

Ernie’s voice broke as he told Frank he’d be back for sure then. “I’m sorry, Frank”. To Frank, the kid’s voice did sound like his daughter’s that time. He decided not to say anything, the kid was too sick.

Frank watched him as he picked his way across the site. The kid was trying to walk like a man, but he still almost looked like a girl. “What the hell?” He thought.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Well, the job got set back a week, so when Ernie came back, Frank put him to doing some office work and studying the plans on the new project. Ernie was smarter than the other guys and Frank knew that one day he’d have his own crew. The kid just needed some meat on his bones; work out in a gym or something.

On the Monday that the new Job started, Frank arrived at the site in a foul mood. Something really had him pissed off and the other guys were careful to keep busy and out of Frank’s way. Of all the days to be tardy, Ernie picked today to be a whole half hour late for work.

Frank was sitting at his desk working when he looked out the window and saw Ernie trying to sneak in late. He was on his feet so fast that he almost knocked his steel desk over. He went busting out the door of the trailer.

“Hey kid, get your ass over here now!”

Ernie’s whole body tensed in abject fear. He knew he was really late and he knew that Frank was really pissed.

When Ernie got to the bottom of the steps, he looked up at Frank and the look in his eyes almost made him wet his pants.

“Get the hell in here kid, you got some explaining to do.”

“Yes sir.” Ernie could easily tell that Frank was much angrier than being late for work called for. He was so afraid that he could hardly stand up when he walked in and stood in front of Frank’s desk..
“OK, kid, I am going to give you one chance to explain and if you don’t get it right the first time, you are fired.”

“Yes sir.” His voice sounded like a very frightened teen age girl.

Frank just sat there looking at Ernie for a while. Yep he was sure it was Ernie he’d seen. He was so damned disappointed that he did not know what to do with the kid.

“Where the hell was you on Saturday night?” Franks eyes looked like two fiery furnace doors. There would be no lies to him, this day! Ernie could see it and he felt like a rabbit in a wire snare.

Ernie’s eyes were as big as saucers. He was hesitating, not able to speak. Frank was having none of this. He’d get to the bottom of the matter right now!

“Take that hard hat and your safety glasses off. Take your coat off and drop your coveralls. Hurry up!”

As Ernie sat his hard hat down, the pin that was holding his hair up came loose and shoulder length light brown hair cascaded down his head. When he took his huge safety glasses off, Frank would see his eye brows. Ernie began to sob quietly as he laid his coat on the table. By the time he’d dropped his over pants, the tears were dripping on the floor. He now stood there in his jeans and a T shirt that revealed his lovely new breasts. Ernie was so tiny that they did not have to be very big to make a real impression on Frank.

“Explain to me just what the hell you are up to Ernie?” Frank’s voice didn’t sound as mean as he wanted it to. It hurt him that Ernie was so afraid of him, but the kid was sure as hell never going to know that.

“Well, sir, while I was on vacation, I had Sexual Reassignment Surgery.”

“That part is damned obvious Ernie. So what are you going to do, quit me when I am starting a new job? How in the hell am I going to explain this to the boys? Am I gonna have to get you your own toilet? How the hell am I going to keep those HR creeps away from here? They’ll screw everything up if they get wind of this.”

“So, you’re gonna be a woman now? Can you keep running the excavator, or do I have to get another desk in here? And, what in the hell were you doing in the Silverado Saturday night? Don’t you realize that place is not safe for a lady? Don’t think you can start wearing all that female crap to work, you’ll have the boys all stirred up and I won’t be able to get any work done. You are going to explain all this to the boys. I sure as hell am not going to do it for you, do you understand that?”

“You mean you aren’t going to fire me?”

“Hell no, if I do, this damned job will run over and the head office will lose money.” Frank never let on but he actually owned the whole company but had his little brother run the office like it was his own. After the company got big enough, and his brother had graduated from College, Frank decided to return to running a crew. Only a few of the old timers knew.”

“Oh, thank you sir for not firing me. I promise that I will work really hard and not disappoint you.”

While all the other guys called Frank by name, and were really casual with him, poor little Ernie mostly called Frank sir. Come to think of it, now that Frank had seen Ernie in the Silverado dressed in a mini skirt, he realized that Ernie had always looked like a girl, but he just never thought about it.

“OK, now just what is it going to take to get you in here to work on time? It was a half hour today.”

“I promise I won’t do it again.”

“That’s bull shit that I’ve heard before.”

Ernie’s eyes got really wide. “No, I promise, really!”

Frank sat and looked at Ernie for a while. “What the hell am I gonna call you now, what’s your name?”

“It’s Candace sir.”

Frank looked at Candace for a minute or two. “You damn well better make sure you are not late for work any more.” Frank looked at Candace for a minute more, like he was thinking.

He seemed to make up his mind. “Candace, get over here, and drop your pants down around your ankles.

“What? You can’t do that to me Sir.” She said. Her voice carried no conviction at all. She knew what was coming and she could not stop Frank from doing it. She slowly moved over by Frank and dropped her pants.

Frank reached out and took her by the wrist, bending her over his knees. Without a word, he began to spank Candace with his big meaty hand. It only took a few and Candace was weeping piteously and begging Frank to stop.

“Frank, please stop, I am sorry. I will be good; I won’t be late for work again. Please stop?”

When Frank finally did stop, it wasn’t really so long but Candace carried on like he’d half killed her. He helped her pull her pants back up. He told her that she could sit in his chair until she got herself together. His voice sounded more like a father’s voice, not a boss’s. Candace could hear the softness and concern in it now. She jumped with fright when she heard the door to the trailer shut.

She was just too upset to go out there now. She had to stop sobbing and try to dry her face. She just knew she’d be red in the face and eyes but no where near as red as her bottom felt. She could barely sit, it was so sore.

She wondered where Frank had gone, but she knew she had to get back outside and get to work. She had all her gear back on and had just started out the door to go back to work, when Frank and all the other guys met her.

“Go back into the trailer. We all have some talking to do.”

Candace backed into the room and sat in one of the chairs.

Frank looked right at her and said, “Take all your gear off again.”

By the time Candace had finished and was back just wearing jeans and a T shirt, the boys were talking among themselves and giving her really frightening looks.

“Damn Jack, said Harry, she is a girl, just like you had been saying for months.”

“Hell, she can still run that machine twice as fast as you can Harry,” said Tony.

“So, what the hell, where’d you get a name like Ernie, princess?,” Said Jack.

Frank let it go on like that for a couple minutes. “OK listen up. There has been a couple changes here, but Ernie can still out work all of you, doing what she does and don’t you forget it.” She’s going to explain a few things to you.”

Candace could easily see that at least a few of the guys had always thought she was a girl, so she decided to make use of that. “I needed this job to pay for College and some corrective surgery. I had no idea that I would find running the excavator so easy and fun. My name is Candace, and I took the month off to go on Vacation and to have a little surgery”. With that, she looked down at the girls now perched on her chest. “Oh, there were a couple other things that needed to be fixed but I am fine now.”

She looked around at the guys for a moment, and made a decision.

“Now, I am a complete woman.” That’s’ it. She wasn’t going to tell them any more. If she ever got serious with a man, then she would fill him in, but these guys did not need to know any more. They would support each other just like they always had, she hoped.

There was some good natured grumbling. Of course the two rednecks had to get their stupid shit in.

“You two pull anything, and you are going to be part of a pour, got it?” Jack said. They did not need to be told that included anything off the work site, too.

The meeting was over, but before everyone went back to work, Jack said, “OK, so is it Ernie or Candy?”

Candace turned to look at Jack with a glare on her face. She saw the mirthful look on is face.

“Jack, is your name Jack or Jackie?” Those within ear shot began to laugh like braying donkeys.

“Ok little lady, it’s Candace, OK?”

Candace broke out in a smile. “Sure Jack.” She struck a pose, by flipping her hips and winking at Jack. Another roar of laughter filled the trailer.

Candace was on the way out of the trailer to go to work when Frank stopped her.

“Candace, is the problem with you being late solved?”

She gasped, and covered her butt with her hands. Looking at Frank, she thought she saw a grin for a moment.” Yes sir, it is, I promise”

“Oh, and none of this flirting with the guys either!” He said. That part was said with less conviction but Candace took it seriously.

“Good,” He said.

With that, she turned and headed out, leaving her butt unguarded.

“Whap!” his hand made the sound as he planted a good firm one on her errant behind.

Her impish smile did not escape his notice as she turned and tried to dance out of the way. “Yes, sir, I promise.”

Construction Diva um Re-Constructed, edited, fixed

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Autobiographical

TG Elements:

Estrogen / Hormones

Other Keywords:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

So, I didn’t like the old version of this story very well, so I reworked it, adding substantial content. A large part of this story is true. The bit about the E-coli happened to me. I spent 32 years working in industry and construction here in America. The way the construction guys treated me is authentic, and yes, some of them thought I was a woman and some thought I was gay. I hope that you enjoy this. Can you guess which feature of the story has become my de-facto “trademark”?

Construction Diva

Gwen Brown

The guys at work liked Ernie. Without much conversation at all, they always knew he was somehow different, but he could out do any Track Hoe operator there. The bucket on his machine seemed to be as agile as his own hand. He was good for a little joking now and then because of his diminutive size. Would Ernie's closely guarded secret ruin everything? It was getting harder and harder to hold everything in, to hide his true nature.

When the Medium Cat Excavator on the Construction site shut down for lunch, an observer would expect a big hulking man to climb out of it. Instead, Ernie scampered down off the tall tracks. He was a skinny, short, hippie looking kid with long light brown hair. He usually kept it under his helmet but today it had fallen down around his shoulders. He picked his way daintily across the site to the lunch trailer, trying as hard as he could to keep dry and out of the mud. The insulated Carhart Coveralls and Jacket he wore made him appear much manlier than when he looked in normal street clothes.

In the trailer, there was the usual talk of last weekend’s game; the usual comments about whose truck was best; who caught the biggest fish, and a few jokes about the smallest guy on the crew, Ernie. Of course everyone knew that the guy who drove the Ford pickup would have the biggest lie about it. Ernie usually tried to scurry out of the trailer before the guys got bored and started chiding him about needing a booster seat for his Excavator. Most of the time, they good naturedly teased him and he didn’t really mind too much. Most of them treated him like a little brother (or sister?).

The only real problem that Frank had with Ernie is his constant tardiness to work. It didn’t matter that he could move twice the dirt, and dig to grade better than any operator there. The kid needed to show up on time or it would make the other guys think they could do it too. Every now and then, he’d call Ernie in and chew his ass real good. The kid would straighten up for a while.

Ernie stood just over 5’ 1” and the only day he weighed much over 125lbs was when it was raining and the mud on his boots and clothes gave him a little help. Today he felt nervous and excited. He was leaving on 30 Days of Vacation. He’d told everyone that he was going to Mexico, but he was really going to Thailand. He’d been really close mouthed about his plans. Ernie hadn’t told a soul that “he” would cease to exist, and he hoped that the person who returned would eventually make a go of it.

Frank stepped out of his office and said, “Ok knock it off you guys, and quit picking on little “sister”. You all know damned good and well that he makes it so I don’t have to hire a second operator. I’ve been sharing the savings with you all.
“Now, who in the hell dumped the dirt in Ernie’s cab?” “Uh, I did boss”, Jim said.

“Look Jim, you know what a clean freak Ernie is? Now get out there and help the little kid clean it up.”

At that, Frank Chuckled a little, and everyone else in the shack burst out laughing.

That was Friday, and Ernie would be gone on Vacation now.

The work site seemed different without Ernie around; boring somehow, no one to joke about. So, the month passed even though things felt somehow dull without the kid.

Ernie had done enough counseling with a "professional" to know what he wanted to do, but did not want to spend the money on another two years of counseling to get a "carry letter" to take to Thailand. So, through negotiation, he found out that a couple hundred dollars would get him permission to have surgery there. Ernie was very intelligent and almost too stubborn for his own good. That stubbornness would put his life in danger.

In Thailand Ernie became Candace. While the actual surgery wasn’t very painful at all, and the dilation was easy, it somehow sapped his vitality and it did not take much at all to make Candace really tired. Being only 25 years old, she had expected more from herself. Perhaps it was the breast augmentation, and the facial surgery in addition to SRS that so weakened her. She'd secretly been taking Estrogen for years, but wanted just a little more breast. Then there was the awful E-coli infection she’d brought home from Thailand. Her body was naturally adapted to the surgery because she was a genetic outlier, so already had much of the facial and pelvic construction, but not even the healthiest woman would struggle with such an infection. Perhaps it was more the infection than the actual surgery that weakened her.

When the surgeon was doing her operation, he found evidence of past surgery in her lower abdomen, but Candace did not have the money for genetic testing. Through her own study and research she already knew.

When she returned to the States, she felt really sick, so as soon as she got her baggage into her apartment, she called her doctor, who saw her the next morning. She revealed to Dr. Bronson that she’d been in Thailand and had surgery. “You what, you just ran off to Thailand and had surgery?” He told her to go right to ER, that he would meet her there. The strain of E-coli she brought from Thailand was resistant to American Antibiotics; stronger measures would be needed.

In a week, Candace was scheduled to return to work. She had reasoned that a bottle of pills and she would be fine. That was far from the case though. After Dr. Bronson berated her stupidity to the point that she began to piteously weep, he had a nurse “install” a PICC line IV that ran from her left elbow up her arm and across her chest and into the Vena Cava above her heart. It would be there for the next month and he ordered her to be sedately inactive at home. Twice a day she was to hook up an electric pump and inject herself with IV Antibiotics.

Candace was so stubborn that she heard what she wanted to hear, not what the Doctor told her. After a week of using the PICC line, on a Monday, she carefully showered, after saran wrapping her IV, got dressed and started for work. It was an hour on light rail down to the city and then a 20 minute walk to the site. By the time she got there, she knew she could not work that day or soon at all.

Ernie's plan was to just conceal Candace under his heavy clothing. He was just too sick to come to work. Ernie did not realize just how long it would take to recover from his surgeries. Maybe he’d had too much done?

His boss Frank, thought that Ernie he looked like he should be in the hospital. His cheeks were sunken and sallow.

Frank, looked at Ernie with a funny look on his face. He thought Ernie looked really different for some reason. With his hard hat, ear muffs, and huge safety glasses on the boss couldn’t tell much but he kept getting the feeling he was looking at a girl. Ernie had never looked much like a man, but since he’d been sick, Ernie looked down right feminine. He decided not to kid the young man about it. It looked as if he could collapse right in front of his desk.

“Geez kid, I hope you get better soon, I really need you here working”

“Thank you, Sir, I promise that two weeks will be enough.” Ernie said.

Ernie, let out a scream that sounded just like his wife, and then pried Frank’s arm off of his chest.

Frank was concerned. “What the hell you screamin’ like that for kid, you sound like my wife?”

“Sorry boss, you got my, ah, sunburn. It really hurts.”

“You sure you’re OK kid?” He could tell that Ernie’s eyes were full of tears. Frank was really getting concerned, the kid’s voice didn’t even sound right.

“Yes, I just need to go home and get back in bed.”

“Hey Ernie, we have to start that 8 level underground parking structure in a couple weeks. If you ain’t back by then, I have to get another operator. You know how it is.”

Ernie’s voice broke as he told Frank he’d be back for sure then. “I’m sorry, Frank.” To Frank, the kid’s voice did sound like his daughter’s that time. He decided not to say anything, the kid was too sick.

Frank watched him as he picked his way across the site. The kid was trying to walk like a man, but he still almost looked like a girl. “What the hell?” He thought.

Well, the engineers set the job set back two weeks, so when Ernie came back, Frank put him to doing some office work and studying the plans on the new project. Ernie was smarter than the other guys and Frank knew that one day he’d have his own crew. The kid just needed some meat on his bones; work out in a gym or something. No one on the crew knew about Ernie’s night classes and the fact that he was about to take an MS Degree in genetics. It would still take Ernie years to get his Phd in the field.

“Hey kid, get your ass over here now!”

Ernie’s whole body tensed in abject fear. He knew he was really late and he knew that Frank was really pissed.

When Ernie got to the bottom of the steps, he looked up at Frank and the look in his eyes almost made him wet his pants.

“Get the hell in here kid, you got some explaining to do.”

“Yes sir.” His voice sounded like a very frightened teen age girl.

Frank just sat there looking at Ernie for a while. Yep he was sure it was Ernie he’d seen. He was so damned disappointed that he did not know what to do with the kid.

“Where the hell was you on the Saturday night when you left on your vacation?” Franks eyes looked like two fiery furnace doors. There would be no lies to him, this day! Ernie could see it and he felt like a rabbit in a wire snare.

Ernie’s eyes were as big as saucers. He was hesitating, not able to speak. Frank was having none of this. He’d get to the bottom of the matter right now!

“Take that hard hat and your safety glasses off. Take your coat off and drop your coveralls. Hurry up!”

As Ernie sat his hard hat down, the pin that was holding his hair up came loose and shoulder length light brown hair cascaded down his head. When he took his huge safety glasses off, Frank would see his eye brows. Ernie began to sob quietly as he laid his coat on the table. By the time he’d dropped his over pants, the tears were dripping on the floor. He now stood there in his jeans and a T shirt that revealed his lovely new breasts covered with a bra. Ernie was so tiny that they did not have to be very big to make a real impression on Frank.

“Well, sir, while I was on vacation, I had Sexual Reassignment Surgery.”

“Sir, I don’t want to lose my job. I owe so much money on loans that I really need this job. And Sir, I don’t need my own toilet. Oh, and I didn’t tell HR. They don’t have a reason to come making life miserable for anyone.” She said, “Besides, running that track hoe is fun, I like it”. Her smile looked really funny on her face that was tear stained, and had disheveled hair.

“So, you’re gonna be a woman now? Can you keep running the excavator, or do I have to get another desk in here? And, what in the hell were you doing in the Silverado Saturday night before you went on vacation? Don’t you realize that place is not safe for a lady? Don’t think you can start wearing all that female crap to work, you’ll have the boys all stirred up and I won’t be able to get any work done. You are going to explain all this to the boys. I sure as hell am not going to do it for you, do you understand that?”

“You mean you aren’t going to fire me?”

“Hell no, if I do, this damned job will run over and the head office will lose money.” Frank never let on but he actually owned the whole company but had his little brother run the office like it was his own. After the company had gotten big enough, and his brother had graduated from College, Frank decided to return to running one of the crews. Only a few of the old timers knew.”

“Oh, thank you sir for not firing me. I promise that I will work really hard and not disappoint you.”

While all the other guys called Frank by name, and were really casual with him, poor little Ernie mostly called Frank sir. Come to think of it, now that Frank had seen Ernie coming out of the Silverado dressed in a mini skirt, he realized that Ernie had always looked like a girl, but he just never thought about it.

“OK, now just what is it going to take to get you in here to work on time? It was a half hour today.”

“I promise I won’t do it again.”

“That’s bull shit that I’ve heard before.”

Ernie’s eyes got really wide. “No, I promise, really!”

Frank sat and looked at Ernie for a while. “What the hell am I gonna call you now, what’s your name?”

“It’s Candace sir.”

Frank looked at Candace for a minute or two. “You damn well better make sure you are not late for work anymore.” Frank looked at Candace for a minute more, like he was thinking.

He seemed to make up his mind. “Candace, get over here, and drop your pants down around your ankles.

“Oh yes I can little lady. I tried everything else, so this better work” Frank said with his most stern voice.

“Frank, please stop, I am sorry. I will be good; I won’t be late for work again. Please stop?”

She was just too upset to go out there now. She had to stop sobbing and try to dry her face. She just knew she’d be red in the face and eyes but nowhere near as red as her bottom felt. She could barely sit, it was so sore.

“Go back into the trailer. We all have some talking to do.”

Candace backed into the room and into the corner. Sitting did not appeal to her right now.

Frank looked right at her and said, “Take all your gear off again.”

By the time Candace had finished and was back just wearing jeans and a T shirt, the boys were talking among themselves and giving her really frightening looks.

“Damn Jack, said Harry, she is a girl, just like you have been saying for months.”

“Hell, she can still run that machine twice as fast as you can Harry,” said Tony.

“So, what the hell, where’d you get a name like Ernie, princess?,” Said Jack.

Frank let it go on like that for a few minutes. “OK listen up. There have been a couple changes here, but Ernie can still out work all of you, doing what she does and don’t you forget it.” She’s going to explain a few things to you.”

She looked around at the guys for a moment, and made a decision.

“Now, I am a complete woman.” That’s’ it. She wasn’t going to tell them anymore. If she ever got serious with a man, then she would fill him in, but these guys did not need to know any more. They would support each other just like they always had, she hoped.

There was some good natured grumbling. Of course the two rednecks had to get their stupid shit in.

“Hey faggot, wait till we get you behind the tool box.” They both leered evilly as they laughed.

“You two pull anything, and you are going to be part of a pour, got it?” Jack said. They did not need to be told that included anything off the work site, too.

The meeting was over, but before everyone went back to work, Jack said, “OK, so is it Ernie or Candy?”

Candace turned to look at Jack with a glare on her face. She saw the mirthful look on his face.

“Jack, is your name Jack or Jackie?” those within ear shot began to laugh like braying donkeys.

“Ok little lady, it’s Candace, OK?”

Candace broke out in a smile. “Sure Jack.” she struck a pose, by flipping her hips and winking at Jack. Another roar of laughter filled the trailer.

Candace was on the way out of the trailer to go to work when Frank stopped her.

“Candace, is the problem with you being late solved?”

She gasped, and covered her butt with her hands. Looking at Frank, she thought she saw a grin for a moment.” Yes sir, it is, I promise”

“Oh, and none of this flirting with the guys either!” He said. That part was said with less conviction but Candace took it seriously.

“Good,” He said, examining her face.

With that, she turned and headed out, leaving her butt unguarded.

“Whap!” his hand made the sound as he planted a good firm one on her errant behind.

Her impish smile did not escape his notice as she turned and tried to dance out of the way. “Yes, sir, I promise.”

The End
Again

Death Of A Princess

Author:

Gwen Brown

Caution:

CAUTION

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Death of A Princess
By Gwen Brown:

I lay there looking at the clock. 5:30 AM. Pretty late to get to bed. I decided to try to doze for a while. Sleep was just carrying me off to the den of Morpheus when the house phone, not my cell rang.

“Charlotte, I know it’s been a long night, but you need to come down here.” Corporal Johnson said. I couldn’t get angry at her, she would never call me at home, when I was off, unless it was like Armageddon. “OK, see you in 20.”

There were spots of blood on my uniform, so I just slipped into a Skirt and Blouse. My Oxfords were trashed, so I just slipped my runners on. All that was completely against regulations, but I was too tired to care, at all. The Squad was still a mess, so I slipped into my girl car. The trip took 10 minutes. At least my little SUV had a sticker so I could park it in with the Official cars. My civilian 1911 was nestled in my vest. They made me use their little pop gun in uniform, but in civvies, I wore what I wanted to. Still had to check it inside because the detection equipment ratted me out. “Take care of my baby, OK?” Johnson just gave me a nod.

The Captain said, “You look just like a Dick. Consider the duty permanent”.

My raised eyebrows, and sigh revealed my displeasure.

“No argument Charlotte. (I’d ditched the Persian name). We’ve been talking about this for a while. Besides, the change in status will give you the clout you are going to need now.

“Yes, sir.” I didn’t sound respectful, but I knew that he was right. “So, what was important enough to bring me in here on an hours’ sleep after an all-nighter?”

He handed me a file. “Read that and then go down to the Morgue to meet your latest subject.”

The file didn’t reveal much about the victim, but I frequented the wooded, hiking area where he was found. The body had laid out there for almost 6 months. We realized this when the Dental Record ID was out so fast. The news hit me hard, and I sat in the bathroom until I blew it off. No one bothered me. It was shattering that she 'wanted' to be female and she was murdered for it. It seemed doubly unjust because I'd still be male if they'd given me the choice. The best I could do now was come across as a pretty Dyke.

I’d met “Her”, a pre-op male before their coming out. They were the son of an acquaintance on the Paper, where I used to work.

A little about me. Before this present life, I’d worked for some people in the Government that you do not want to know about. Though no fault of my own, the operation I was on blew up and really badly. “Our Opponents” knew who I was, and that I’d gotten one of theirs killed. Sadly, they killed one of ours.

I was injured pretty badly and ended up in a hospital where no one spoke good English. I think it was Iran, though they insisted it was Persia and I could tell right away that they did not like most Iranians and the Government there. One of “ours” came to see me and said that the only way I would live was to start a new life, and never try to contact him or his colleagues again. I did not know him, and he showed no ID. I did figure out that my keepers had paid a lot to get me a try at a new life.

As soon as he walked out of the room, things started popping. Later, I would surface as a retiree from an Oil giant, and the money would take care of me and not be taxable. I would see it the second Wednesday of every month. The cover story was very simple, and he warned me not to embellish it. You will have partial amnesia so you will not remember a lot and have a good excuse.

Then came the biggest shock of it all. I would leave this country as a woman and speaking fluent Farsi. I was to feign lack of full knowledge of English. I would leave wearing a Hijab and all the Middle Eastern clothing. He admonished me to keep that up for at least six months and after that, I could take my chances. I was purportedly a refugee from Iran. I would be shorter. My female stuff would work. I would be very pretty. And they were going to implant 'things' in my brain to alter my way of thinking and memory.

“When I walk out the door, there will be no more contact with you.” He didn’t even say goodbye.

My broken arm was in a plastic cast. The Bullet hole in my chest hurt like hell, but according to the Doctor, somehow the bullet had missed anything vital. I judged it to be about noon by the position of the Sun, though I did not know the day, or how long I’d been out. There was no dinner that night and the last thing I remember was it getting dark outside.

The next weeks or months (?), I don’t know, were a mix of hazy consciousness and nightmares. I wakened for the last time feeling really out of it. The time following that was being gotten out of bed to walk, to learn how to use dilators, and feeling weak and emotional. Later as I got stronger, they were teaching me Farsi, and punishing me for trying to use English. Since I was a natural blonde, they seemed pleased with that. Previously, I had no idea that there were blondes in Persia.

I think the process took more than six months because my hair was quite long when I left. There was no question of speaking English and if I tried, I would have a full-blown episode of Disassociation. The things I did were not neglected because of the episodes of tearfulness and fear that my tears brought on because I had attempted to speak English. Must have been some sort of diversion they'd put in me. In the end, I stopped fighting it.

I left the Hospital in full Niqab and black Abaya. They'd put something in my eyes so I could not see clearly for several hours. I slept comfortably in the back of an Ambulance, and by dawn, the next day, I was getting on a patrol boat in Bandar Abbas. It took me over to Muscat, Oman.

A and a long ride in a huge container ship followed. My suite was self-contained, but my meals were brought to me. I spent lots of time on the private port side balcony. It soothed me somehow. After months and several stops, it was a surprise to find that the ship had docked in Hawaii. A refugee placement group met me at a Restaurant off the Dock. I could understand some of English but found myself unable to speak it. These people were with the Mormons and were very nice to me. One of the women, who was my favourite, spoke passable Farsi though I knew their plans because of my understanding of English. They didn’t try to do anything devious.

Her name was Helen. After lots of conversation, it was plain that they wanted to take me to America. They had planned on Salt Lake City, but I’d had enough of the desert. When I saw the area around there, I sat on the computer and eventually decided that I’d like to live in Portland, Oregon. They tried to place me out in Canby, but after a year, and having learned English after the terrors gradually diminished, I was out of there and went to Vancouver, Washington. I’d managed to stay away from Muslims, start wearing western clothing, and become “less active” with the Mormons. Everyone had been very nice, but if you are going to live your own life, it has to be yours.

In Vancouver, I found there was a Bank Account at Wells Fargo under the name of Fatma Estasi. The Money originated from ARAMCO. I wondered how the Bank had gotten my name and all that but decided that ARAMCO or someone was watching me. Eventually it was clear that I should just live my life.

In Vancouver, searching my name, I found that I was degreed in Journalism, and it seemed good. That got me an almost walk on job at a little paper there. Later on, I was offered a job with the County Sheriff there and took it. The Paper job was boring me to tears. I was more talented than Patrol Officer, but it took several years for me to reluctantly accept the Detective work that the Captain had offered.
The other Detectives almost had the case worked out by the time I got plugged in.

It seemed that she had been “out” for a while now and was a real beauty. Even her voice didn’t give her away. The Paper circulated a photo of her that made her a real heart breaker.

It seemed that she had taken to going to bars until very early in the Morning when they closed. I don’t know how she was satisfying the guys that took her out? Later it would come out, through cell phone records that he’d taken her back up into the mountains after she told him she was really male. After his arrest, he revealed that he took her up there and left her body after he’d beaten her to death.

I was so angry. It took me a long time to calm down. It was hell looking up her family and telling them. They had known that she was doing very dangerous things and were not surprised that she was dead now. When she was buried, I went to the funeral with them.

This was a waste, such a waste.

After the Funeral, I wasn't going back to the shop. I drove up to where the search team had found her and sat in my car and cried until I was completely drained. Then there was a tap on my window. Looking outside I saw a man. With my hand on my 1911, I rolled it down.

"A shame, this one. She had promise." He had an almost undetectable accent that let me know that I was in great danger and would still be even if I shot this man. It was clear to me that he was a Soviet Agent. His gaze was full of appraisal.

"Yes, she did. I knew her father." I wondered if he or his partner would let me live?

"We know that you shot our agent, but found that he was actually working for you. Your agent that we killed was not a very good one. He was going to turn on you." He looked at me for a while. "We have been watching you and know that you have not interfered in our business. Stay out of the Spy business. I do not want to kill such a beautiful woman. The Persians did a very good job on you. Were it possible, sometime, I would share some Vodka with you."

He gazed at me for a moment, and was gone.

I heard a car start and a door slam. It was gone before I breathed again.

Dominant

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

NOT TG. Eliminated.

Kidnapped, Failed Mission

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Character Age:

Mature / Thirty+

TG Elements:

Appliances Attached

Other Keywords:

Involuntary Transition

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Kidnapped, failed mission
By
Gwen Brown

He was a quiet, yet very proficient financial investigator and his only problem is that he got too close to people who rationalized themselves to be serving humanity but were absolutely ruthless. They did research in Medicine, Artificial Intelligence, and Robotics. One of their goals was to make Cyborgs.

I wakened with no idea of who I was. Cheery morning sunlight streamed in the open window, and a warm, fragrant breeze wafted across the room. I opened my eyes and saw that I was laying across a huge bed on top of a soft, silky bedspread. Stretching, I felt an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation move on my thighs and ankles. When I looked down, I was astonished to find that I wore white stockings, held up by garters attached to an all in one that caressed my torso and generous breasts. I could see towering heels on my feet and pretty shiny buckles on them that appeared to hold them on my feet.

It was then that I realized that softly padded cuffs secured my wrists to a small chain that ran behind me. When I pulled I felt something in my crotch that was not painful but was securely attached to that chain. If I pulled a little harder, pleasant sensations surged out of there that were so strong they made my eyes cross, and my breath halt. I decided that enough of that.

By now, I was very curious about my situation and rolled to a sitting position, which was slightly awkward with my wrists cuffed. It was easy enough to wiggle across the huge bed until I could put my feet on the floor. Standing was easy enough, but it was clear that the height of the heels would limit me to a short, mincing step. No, I would not be breaking any speed records.

As I walked, my wrists had to stay slightly back or the sensations from my sex would drive me crazy. This caused my breasts to be emphasized, portraying them enticingly. With each step, they threatened to bob out of the cups.

When I looked out the windows, it was easy to see I was near the top of the tallest building in the city, and it was much, much taller than any of the others. I stood there for a little while, just admiring what I could see. The cars below looked like tiny dots and I was far too high to see people. Looking around, I could see a full mirror, so curiosity soon had me standing in front of it. What I saw was so astonishing! My reflection was both sexy and frightening at the same time. My impeccably made up face made me look like a princess with full lips and flawless skin. My eyes were so overstated that I couldn’t imagine how I could have ever done the makeup. They were art work. My pupils were vertical slits, and I could see little graduations circling the pupil. Now that I could see them, a mere thought magnified anything I looked at. When I turned to look back out the window, the magnification possible seemed so astonishing.

Turning back to the mirror, I could see a metal collar around my neck. I knew I couldn’t touch it, but it appeared to be locked on. There was a very pretty, jeweled ring on the left side of my nose and from there was a tiny chain that ran up to my left ear. My ears were decorated with pretty, dangling ornaments, and there was a very pretty stone hanging right in the center of my forehead and held there by little chains that appeared to encircle the top of my head.

My very blonde hair was coifed to the top and back of my head in braids that made me try to squeal with glee. That’s when I realized that I could not make a sound, and in fact could not open my mouth. Parting my lips, I could see a tiny blue light, but not my teeth. When I turned my head, I could see something blocking my ears, perhaps it was like a hearing aid or radio?

By now, I was quite shaken, so toddled over to the bed and sat down. What was going on? Who was I? Am I a Robot? Starting to softly cry, my eyes did not tear. Feeling very dismayed, I eased onto my side on the bed and slowly drifted into a light doze.

Something wakened me, so I sat up to look around. A woman walked into the bed room carrying a light blue gown. “Stand up dear, so I can get you dressed. I know this gown has no sleeves but, in your predicament, you don’t need them.”

I stood, and she guided me to a position in front of the mirror. She deftly removed the cover from the gown and guided it over my head. There seemed to be a fastening at the back, but the front was a deep v that nearly exposed my lingerie. The gown was a rather slim A line that was quite snug down past my shoulders and flared out at my hips, reaching almost to the floor. It would be impossible to walk without my heels on.

She walked into another room that I had not noticed before and came back with two bottles. She attached one to a little hose and then told me to open my lips. It felt like one side attached to a hose that went down my throat, because when she squeezed it in I could not feel anything going into my mouth. After she was finished with that bottle, she inserted the other one into a port on the other side of my mouth and I could feel that going into my mouth. She told me to swish it around and then swallow, and we did that several times until the bottle, I think about a Liter, was gone.

Then she marched me into a bathroom with lots of other apparatus in it. “I should have done this before I got you dressed”, she mumbled to herself. She raised the hem of my gown and clipped it to a ring in several places. Now I couldn’t see anything. Quickly I felt her fiddling around in my crotch and it felt like she released a gallon of urine. I hadn’t realized before that my bladder was dully aching. Then she also released something out of my intestines, and that was a great relief. The nerves must be deadened because I couldn’t feel any real pain aside from the relief of voiding.

She fiddled around a little more and then lowered the hem of my dress. Then, much to my surprise, something closed about me that was soft and warm. Suddenly sexual feelings began to assault me that were so strong they made me mindless. This went on for a while and when they stopped I just hung there panting as I gathered my wits. There were still stars fleeting about in my vision. I was so sated that all I wanted to do was sleep.

After a while I felt more alert, so the woman stood me up straight. What ever surrounded me withdrew and the woman examined me to see if my appearance needed any repair. Apparently not. I wanted to ask her who I was and several other things but being unable to speak prevented that.

We moved out into the bedroom and then out into what appeared to be a huge, lavish living room with a combination, bar and kitchen. She moved me over to a bar stool and sat me down. Then she attached something to my collar that felt like it was mildly shocking me. The woman told me that the shocks were programming me for the evening, and it was best not to fight the program. She left, leaving me completely unable to move.

After a while, a huge, handsome man appeared. The suit he wore just spoke of money and privilege. By now the program had finished, and he removed the cable. He did not speak to me but pointed a device at my collar and seemed pleased with the results. He placed his hand at my back and pushed me to stand. We walked out the door to that apartment and down a long hall. It was like being in a museum or palace. Everything was so lavish there. We walked out a door and got into a huge limousine. He helped me to sit and the seatbelt fastened itself around me automatically. As we passed out the gate to the grounds, suddenly my vision shut off. We drove for what seemed like a long time and then I could feel us slow. I tried to memorize sounds and feel turns, but any effort I made to do that was futile. While I remained conscious, he seemed able to shut off my senses in a way that made me feel helpless and compliant.

The car stopped, and the door opened. My eyes had turned on as we got close to our destination. It had been light and sunny when we left and now getting out of the Limo, I could see that it had gotten dark. He helped me out of the car and guided me into a mansion.

Inside he was greeted very formally by a man and his female companion, she smiled but did not speak. I began to suspect that she was like me. We were guided into a dining hall that was set up to accommodate a dozen or so people. He was guided to a seat across from the host and I was guided to kneel on a low stool beside and slightly behind him. As I settled in, I could feel padded clamps snap and lock across my ankles. It was clear that I would not eat and would not go anywhere else. There was boring conversation about business and scientific projects though I did not understand what any of it was about. Most of their talk used words that did not sound like English, or Arabic. Looking across to the other woman, she appeared to be just as bored as I. They ate and consumed what I guessed to be wine and other drinks. I could not smell anything. If I began to doze, what ever was in my sex would strongly stimulate me, I and I wakened, though I could not move or make a sound, other than my eyes opening very wide when it happened. I noticed something similar happening to the woman across from me. Were they using drugs to keep us subdued, and almost somnolent?

After they finished eating, we moved into a sort of lounge where he sat, but I was bent over a padded bench and locked in place at the ankles. I could see the other woman in the same position to my left. The hem of my gown was thrown up over my hips and what ever was covering my bottom unfastened. It was unclear if he was doing it or if that was done by an assistant.

Presently I felt something warm sprayed on the entrance to my vagina and then I think he entered me. The sexual feelings were quite strong, arousing me greatly. I entered into a mental state that seemed like continual orgasm that lasted so long that it wore me out and made me long for his touch. It was not long after that I was unable to respond any more that I could feel him ejaculate into me, nearly driving me to another sexual response. I was, however too weak to do that.
I could see the other woman and see seemed to feel the same way as I. Just before I lightly dozed, I could see her smile subtly and close her eyes. We were of the same mind. As I faded out, I thought about how odd my situation felt. The men never used their names and never spoke to us during that time.

I could feel him pull out, and the men walked off talking about things I could not understand. While they were gone, someone came and cleaned me and restored the covering to my sex. After a while, I felt recovered and the fastenings about my ankles were released. The servant assisted me to my feet, and I was allowed to sit on a tall stool with my ankles chained to it.

Later, he returned and bid goodnight to the other man he had talked to. He escorted me out the door and to the limo where I think we reversed our course back to where I had wakened. When I was back in the bedroom and the maid had removed my gown, she sat me on a stool opposite a chair and told to wait. I was not chained at that time.

After a while he came into the room and sat opposite me. “You remember very little and in fact don’t even know who you were. You got to close to penetrating my organization and we took you captive. You were a very accomplished male investigator and family man. I am sure that your wife and children will miss you greatly. If any part of your old mind remains, take comfort in the fact that your family’s needs are well taken care of. Your wife is free to take a new life and will not be molested in any way, in fact we will subtly protect her from any predatory individuals that foolishly enter her life. She will be assisted without her knowledge to pursue more education should she desire it. Likewise, for your three children. So, take comfort in what I have told you.

Your body is being kept and we are testing various of our applications on you for the rest of your life. In time, as our inventions improve, you may be given a fuller life. You will slowly forget what I have just told you as it suits our needs. Eventually, you may be given a name and more freedom, but we need to be absolutely confident that none of our experiments with you malfunction. It is doubtful that you will learn any more about us, unless it suits our needs.

After the man left, the maid returned and removed her lingerie, taking her into the bathroom where she was allowed to soak in the warm bubbling turbo tub for an extended period of time. She felt subdued and relaxed, spending her time contemplating what she had learned.

 Had she been able to cry, tears would have flooded her face. Later she would find that she still occupied her male body but there were very extensive modifications made as part of the experiments. Obviously, her male parts were gone and had been replaced with complete 3D printed female organs made from seeded stem cells from her own body. Very invasive surgical modifications to her pelvis were required to remodel and enlarge it to conform to female specifications. Menses had not yet started, but the scientists felt they would after about three months. --

When she next wakened, she was under the covers of what she would come to think of the bed in her room. The padded cuffs and the chains were absent. She felt quite relaxed and wakened slowly but when she finally felt more alert, she swept back the covers and stepped naked onto the floor. The lingerie and heels were gone, so she happily padded over to the window. Her telescopic eyes were still functional, so she zoomed in on the street a little display in the lower part of her vision told her that she was 1500 feet from the street. Astonished, she found that she could discern the faces of the people below. There were men in western dress and in Middle Eastern garb. The women varied between modest western dress to completely covered Niqabis.

She spent all day naked and moving about the apartment at will. When she needed to void, she found the apparatus that allowed her to do so. She found that she did have what seemed to be a vaginal opening, but something either metallic or rigid plastic closed her anus, and there was a little plug where her urine would come out. The bladder was pretty easy, so she got that emptied. Her Anus was a different matter and she almost gave up when the woman came in and helped her hook it up. What came out was still very watery, but the woman told her that they were hoping that as time passed, her stools would become firmer. “They did a lot of work down there so this will take some time.” The woman said.

In the kitchen the woman showed her how to feed herself, and mentioned that in time, she might get teeth and be allowed to eat solid food. She wondered if she would ever speak but the woman did not talk of that.

Later the woman returned to dress her. This time it was severe corsetry, with stockings and comfortable heels, yet still high. She wore a light blue, knee length skirt that was very tight, with no bra, and a very low-cut blouse. He came to get her in her apartment. Perhaps another outing?

M849

MS Tarragon

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Younger Audience (g/y)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Transformations

Character Age:

Teenage or High School

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Ms. Tarragon

Gwen Brown

This Short Story has been laying in one of my SSDs, neglected and unfinished for years. It seems that my protagonist is deeply confused about their gender. That’s not the half of it. What can we do to fix that? This is a story of secrets, deception, abuse, and war.

After a long, painful struggle, Mother died very early in the darkness of Wednesday morning. It was pouring down rain. The lightning and thunder made it seem like a war was going on outside. The farm was out along Burnt Ridge Road, West of Clinton, Arkansas, so at least we were high enough, so we hadn’t flooded in my memory.

She’d been laying there very quietly and breathing shallowly. Suddenly, she took in a big breath of air and sat up. She hadn’t sat up or eaten in days and hardly drank, so this was a shocking surprise! She started speaking like she was out of breath. Sean had been attending to her and sleeping on the couch beside her home hospital bed for more than a week. His father was somewhere between Nashville and home, driving a gasoline tanker.

“Sean, there is so much I wanted to teach you and now it is too late. Remember all I taught you? Don’t forget because you will need to know. In a little while, you will start getting power and direction and those things will help you control many things around you. After I am gone it will all make sense. I am not your mother and Jason is not your father. We were supposed to be your protectors in exile from our planet, but when we arrived, he revealed that he was one of the enemies who would imprison you. He let me live to raise you. I wanted to teach you much more, she repeated, but he forbade it and would have killed us both if he found out. Perhaps you wondered about the family secrecy? Sean had always resented the way that he was forbidden to have friends at home or to go to anyone’s house. It angered him that school was his only activity, and no sports either!

When I am gone, my spirit will alert those who sent us. We are refugees a very long way from our home world, and it will take a long time for your followers that remain to get here. I do not know who is in power now. The enemy may have won for now and they will be very anxious to locate you and kill or imprison you. Sean, you are very special. Know that and never give up or yield to fear. You are a Princess and your Family ruled until it was overthrown by treachery. This Solar system is at the “fingertip” of a Galaxy in the Laniakea Supercluster that I taught you of. Our home planet is over in another arm of the Pices-Persius super space. I don’t know if they teach you these things in School. That is why we had those talks on Astronomy.

After I am gone, and you drink the fluid in the little bottle, it will begin to magically free you and allow you to use the forces within you. You are not a boy. The spell that conceals you makes others think you are. Again, you are the Princess of our people, and we have hidden you away here to protect you.

Sean’s life had just taken a huge turn and she knew that things would never be the same. It felt strange but right to begin to think of herself as a girl. She would not miss Jason, the man she had thought was his father, and she most certainly would not miss that place they called school. The 7th grade felt so stupid to him. Very early in school, he learned to pretend he didn’t know much, and to answer enough questions in class wrong. Mother had taught him so well, and he was so much more intelligent than the other children in school. He hadn’t been told his IQ but an incident with his science and math teacher was comforting.

This year he’d done too well on a science test and the teacher took him aside, badgering him because he frequently got questions in class wrong, yet getting perfect scores on tests. He eventually convinced his teacher that he had to appear to be dumber or the bullies would beat him up. Finally, the teacher understood and sent him back to his desk. “This will be our secret.” He said with a wink.

Sean had been having very confused feelings about his gender all winter and now that it was late Spring, it had gotten worse, though he had expected his feelings to get better with puberty, he’d learned about in health class, and they hadn’t. There was no puberty yet, but he hadn’t talked to anyone about that, other than his mom. She just said to be patient but offered nothing else.

Sean’s only friend in school, or anywhere for that matter was Julie. When he looked at her, he always felt like he was seeing something in her that he felt was impossible. He adored her, and she knew it, but he could not understand her devotion to him. She was the one person that gave him the strength to withstand the bullying at school and the brutal, rough handling of her father at home. More than once she had placed herself between Sean and someone at school who meant to beat him up. Amazingly, she almost always put a stop to it.

“In the basement, under my sewing machine is a small backpack. On top of it is a letter, and an Amulet. He can’t trace it, but the guardians can when they get here. I hope that they can find you along the way. Follow the instructions in that letter. You will begin to change in wonderful ways, so don’t be frightened. You are a Royal Princess, remember that. Sean just assumed his mother’s mistake was due to her being very ill, but deep inside he felt a strong stirring. You will sense where you are to go through the Amulet, so start there immediately, and waste no time. The animals and other forces will help you as they can.

Mother began to weaken, gasping more than before. Suddenly she seemed to sag and stopped breathing. It was amazing that her back suddenly arched, and a light blue beam shot out of her chest. It made a hole in the ceiling and shot right out into the night. A little ball of light about the size of a soft ball rose out of her chest and shot out through the hole in the ceiling.

Strong emotion seized Sean, and he wept for what seemed a long time. Sean’s entire world had crumbled in a moment. What would he do without the woman what he thought of as Mother? Sure, now he knew she was not actually his mother, but he still felt like it. After a while, feeling wrung out from weeping, he began to accept more that she was female. She went down into the basement and retrieved the backpack and letter.

On top of the letter, under the sewing machine, was a little vial of amber fluid, and a necklace with a little blue stone hanging from it. Setting the things aside, he opened the letter. “Sean, if you are reading this alone, it means that I am gone, and your rapid escape is vital. Drink the fluid in the vial now, and then put the necklace around your neck. This is important, do it now!” You are the lost Princess but have been magically made to look male. The fluid will eventually erase that deception. Also in the pack was a thick bundle of currency; Thousands of dollars in 100’s and 20’s. Sean had never seen as much money!

Sean quickly drank the fluid and his whole body began to tingle. He reached out to pick up the amulet and little sparks passed between it and his fingers, making her stop for a second but then knowing of the urgency, she did it. The transformation had begun.

She picked up the letter to finish reading it, but all the print was gone. In tall letters appeared Run! And then that burst into flame. It was obvious that the fire from the letter was intense enough that it was dangerous. She almost forgot the backpack, but then grabbing it, she was up the stairs and out the door as fast as she could go, grabbing her jacket and hiking shoes on the way! She stopped on the rear steps and slipped her insulated Barn pants on, and then hi top socks and shoes. She started to run across the neighbor’s corn field but felt guided to get out on the pavement and head up that road. She would leave no tracks on pavement. She just went where she felt guided. At times, it seemed that the Amulet was actually pulling on her neck. Sean felt silly when she found her night shirt sticking out the bottom of her long coat, so she stopped and fixed that too.

Sean was a small 12-year-old, and the backpack felt heavy very soon. After only about a half hour, Sean knew she needed to rest, so she ducked into a thicket. She sat there, looking back at the farm. There was a tremendous glow from it as if the house and all the outbuildings were burning. Wow, she thought. “My family is even stranger than I feared”.

Rested now, she got moving again. There was almost a full moon but increasingly clouds swept across it, blocking its light. Another hour of walking was bringing her close to the tiny town of Shanksville. She knew her friend from school, Julie lived there, so perhaps she could stop there if there were lights on. Even in the predawn hours, the air was very warm, but she could feel it getting ready to rain again, by the wind and the feel of the air, and by the looks of the clouds, it would rain hard. Sean stopped and took her rain slicker from inside the pack, and she’d just gotten it on when the heavens opened up. The slicker was past her knees, but in short order her lower legs and feet were soaking despite the barn boots.

It was well lit, past dawn, by the time she got to Julie’s house. They had been friends at school. She didn’t think that anyone would be up, but she wished he could at least say goodbye to her. The lights were on, and Julie’s Mother was at the sink getting breakfast. She seemed to take notice of him passing and then Julie was there too. In just a moment, the Front door was open with Julie calling out, “Sean, you must be soaking. Why are you out here? Get in here now”.

This is exactly what Sean had wanted to happen, so it took him time to get up on the porch and set his pack down. “Here Sean, let me get a towel for you to drip on.” It only took moments for Sean to be standing in the hall, on a towel, and then her dad was pulling Sean’s boots off. It didn’t take long for him to be sat at the breakfast table, eating oatmeal, eggs and bacon. Julie’s Dad had moved his pack into the hallway to drip on the towel now that Sean didn’t need it. His rain slicker was dripping on a wall hook. As they ate, the predawn storm was passing.

Julie asked, “Is it your dad again.” Sean nodded but didn’t say anything. Then, finally, “It’s all a huge mess. I think that you always thought I was different and now I can say that I am vastly more different than any of us knew. I can’t tell you how right now because I’d fear for your safety if he somehow read your minds or something.”

Sean could feel itching on her shoulder blades but had no idea of the cause.

Neither Julie nor her family disagreed. “We want to help you in any way we can”. Julie’s Mother said.

Sean explained that he had a lot of traveling to do, but he must do it alone. He didn’t know exactly where he was going.

He felt so much better with some breakfast in him. Julie’s family got everything dried and helped him to get dressed in a way that would keep him warm. Julie gave him her black rain pants, and pink boots, which Sean accepted without question. His rain Jacket would be fine, as long as he got the hood up and the cuffs pulled closed. Fortunately, Julie’s Father had a rain proof backpack cover, and that set him.

Julie’s Dad, Mark sat across from Sean eyeing him, waiting for an explanation from Sean. Mark had seen bruises and limping on both Sean and his mother when they had grocery shopped in town but had not interfered no matter how much he wanted to. Under Mark’s silent scrutiny Sean knew that he’d have to say something but was just not sure how. It was, after all, very strange for him to be out with a backpack at this hour.

Finally, “Mother died in the night. She spoke to me and left me a letter and pack. She told me to run and get away from here as fast as I could. I know this sounds crazy. The letter she left me started to burn as soon as I read it. It said in big letters to Run, and then started burning. I think it burned the whole farm.”

“When Mother died, a ball of blue light came out of her and went right through the ceiling. I wasn’t surprised when it happened. Mother had been teaching me little sayings and tricks for a long time.”

“Sean, we knew because something got Marcie and Julie up early this morning.” He spoke. “When they woke me up, everyone seemed to know that it was about your family, but not what.”

“We aren’t magic believers, but we always knew that you were special, so we will help you as much as we can.”

Sean said, “You can’t help me too much because if HE finds out, he might harm you.”

“Thank you for saying that Sean. We know he is dangerous.”

In the next hour, Sean finished eating, and Julie and her mother got her into warm socks and some rubber barn boots. Julie showed him the clips on the lower side of the boots so that when he took them off, they could hang upside down on his pack to dry as he walked. His wet shoes were hanging on his pack right now, after a “heated” session on the boot dryer. Looking down, Sean could see flowers on the light blue boots. Then he looked at Julie. “Sean, you need those boots worse than I do. Do they fit well enough?”

Sean looked at her and he could tell that they had a connection that could never be broken. “Thank you, Julie,”.

Mark looked at Sean. “There is a power about you that his helping you to deal with the way your world is falling apart. If there is ever anything else we can do …”“Sean, if it were anyone else. But we knew that something was wrong.
Mark then handed Sean a leather envelope that was stuffed with money in small denominations. “Sean, there is about $200 there and if you need help along the way, call us. I feel like I am not supposed to put you in my truck and take you anywhere. Somehow you are protected, but we are not.”

The time was almost 7:30 AM and the busses would be on the road very soon.

Thinking with a maturity that was not his own, Sean thanked everyone, and got on his way again. As they stepped out on the porch to say goodbye, they could all hear the sound of the roar of an enraged monster a long way away. Sean looked at Julie and her family and ran down the steps and off up the street.

With haste, Sean moved down the street and out the West side of town. The Amulet seemed to be talking to her and felt comforting. She didn’t yet know where she was going but she felt it could take her a while to complete the journey.

The fall day got warm and steamy. He had taken off the boots and put on his almost dry shoes. Mother had put lots of trail bars, made with her recipe in the pack, and no matter what she drank, her water bottle seemed to stay almost full. Just before noon she felt a foreboding and ducked under a tree. Fear nearly overcame her and then a huge shadow swept past. She got a glimpse of a huge black dragon, one as big as an airline.

The Amulet felt warm, almost hot, and when he looked at it there was a pale blue glow coming from it. He watched the huge dragon, fearing it would circle back, but it continued on. Sean did not know that the Amulet kept her invisible from the dragon. Some would glimpse the black Dragon and quickly forget. The Amulet also put out a field that made others around her disinterested, so they mostly ignored her.

That night, Sean walked into a Burger joint and ate more than she’d ever eaten before. Of course, she’d walked a long way, and because of the fluid she’d drank her body was using energy to change. After she’d eaten, he continued to walk until almost dark. She found an empty barn alongside the road, so went into it. There was an old, very dusty tractor and several bales of hay. He was so tired, that he just laid down on his, now dry, rain slicker and slept immediately. Something large made a noise outside the barn just as it was getting light, and Sean was awake right away.

She quickly got her shoes and socks on and crept to the door, only to find a horse rubbing his butt on the side of the barn. “Sorry to disturb your rest little Sister. I was trying to relieve this itch and had no idea that you were within.”, the horse seemed to say in her mind. Sean was surprised for a moment but as she thought, everything seemed as it should be. There seemed to have been changes as she slept, though she was not fully ready to accept that she was becoming she now. The itching on her back were now lumps, perhaps the size of half a Grapefruit. Her nipples itched and her bits had noticeably shrunk. She dug around in her pack and found a soft t-shirt. That should help some, she mused.

Shawn had a trail bar and drank some water as she woke up. It was full dawn now on a cool morning and almost cloudless sky. The horse continued to speak into her mind, “I regret that I cannot accompany you on your journey, but I am bound to this place. I hope that you find a companion soon.”

Sean thanked the horse in her mind and got on her way. She seemed to have a new sense that guided her sometimes across fields and through wooded areas. For now, the storms seemed to have moved off and the day was at least partially sunny. He continued to spend his nights in the woods, or thickets. Sometimes there were abandoned barns and one night she spent in a culvert under a railroad track, which was good until a train rumbled past over his head. After it passed, he managed to sleep until dawn without further interruption.

One morning he wakened to find dozens of butterflies sitting on the bushes surrounding him. They didn’t talk to him but sort of “purred” To him. As he got up and stretched, he saw a wolf like dog sitting and watching him. The Wolf seemed to speak to her and indicated that he would be her guide and protector as long as he could.

She’d been out for days now and felt the need for a bath and clean clothing. She was walking through a small town along a large river. Along one of the quieter streets, a woman sat on her porch eying her. She’d almost passed, when she called out to her, “Come here child, you look like you need some rest.” Sean was surprised but only hesitated until she felt the Amulet warmly seeming to reassure her. “The refugees are all very excited to find that the lost Princess is on her way to finish this ugly business. Please come in and make use of my hospitality”. She spoke.
The Wolf led the way up on the porch and laid down. The woman identified herself as Anne and Sean likewise. In the house Anne had her in the tub almost before Sean knew what was going on. The tub quickly filled, and Anne put in fragrant oils and salts. Sean must have been quite tired, and she found herself dozing in the heavenly bath. Anne got her out of the tub, draping a huge fluffy towel around her shoulders. Sean was astonished that her bits were nearly gone, and her breasts were budding. Anne quickly dressed her in a very pretty cotton top with a camisole under that. She helped Sean put some soft cotton tap pants on but let her put her Carhart like insulated pants back on. Sean felt almost hysterical due to the rapid changes that she was experiencing.

Looking down, his bits were mostly gone! Stripping off her shirts, there were the first buds of new breasts developing. Sean sat heavily, feeling extremely confused. “What is happening to me”?

Anne told Sean that she was one of the lost refugees of their garden planet, Marton. She quickly told her the story of the evil war on Marton and the dark Dragons had won for the time being. As she talked, she realized that Sean did not seem to know hardly anything. Sean did not realize that posing her as a boy was a magic ploy. She was actually the blue princess.

Your Majesty, you need to stop soon and get a training Bra. Your breasts will hurt, even bleed until you do it.

Sean felt almost like waddling from the full meal and felt like napping, but Anne warned her of the danger from the black dragon. “You must flee toward your destination lest the evil one catch you.” She spoke. The wolf led her into the darkness until well after the moon rose after Midnight. The huge dog led her into the underbrush beneath a tree where it lay down and Sean quickly found herself snuggled beside him. It was a foggy dawn but not too cold. The wolf drank from a small creek near them, and Sean ate a trail bar and water from the camel pack the woman had given her.

She was dressed warm enough to get through the morning and would stop if it rained. It took a month to cross Oklahoma and start into hillier Northern New Mexico. It was a surprise to her that the Native Americans that lived along there were so caring. One group practically dragged her into a Pueblo up around Taos and forced her to rest for a few days. Rather than Sean, they called her Dragon Nabawi (Warrior) and that confused her, but any argument was fruitless. When she was fully rested a man named Elu put her on a horse wrapped in blankets and in a Leather skirt and top and led her for several days. When he stopped, he made sure that her belongings were well packed, and she wore good hiking shoes given to her by a member of the Tribe. In a week, Sean made it to the mountains of southern Colorado. In a particularly mountainous area, she found a large, unmarked cave and felt that she was to remain there until her transformation was complete.

The cave inside was Cavernous. One morning she wakened to the Sun streaming directly into her face back in the cave. She felt funny and soon saw that she was a small pearl colored Dragon and only about 12 feet tall, with a wing spread of only around 20 feet. Most surprising to her was that she could levitate without even flapping her beautiful wings. They weren’t stiff and ridged but hung from her back like a split cape and had a slight blueish tint. There was a long wing and a shorter one on each side. She sat so long admiring her beauty that she lost track of time. The pool in the cave seemed magically reflective. She got lost in it.

She felt astonished to find that she could morph between human and dragon very easily. Of course, she was naked in her human form, with smallish Breasts that barely jiggled at all. “What is my real name? Sean does not cover it, the way that I am now.” She thought. Later, after a pleasant afternoon nap she knew she was Nizhoni, and saying it made her feel beautiful!

As she reclined there, hunger pangs began to plague her. Nizhoni had never flown before, but hunger drove her. It amazed her that as soon as she swept from the cave, she was flying and soon soared to glorious heights but with hunger driving her, she quickly spotted a small deer below. Folding her wings, she dropped on her prey almost silently. Just before crashing into the deer, she flared and quickly gobbled up the unwary prey. It didn’t take her long to arrive back at the cave. She laid down and slept. When she awakened, a rather un-lady like burp brought up the left-over bones and fur. Feeling more energized, Nizhoni swept back out of the cave to search for clothing for her human form. She had hoped to find something to take from the clothesline of a home but instead, she came to a small town. It was early and there weren’t many people out yet. She drifted into an alley and morphed into her very naked human form. Her skin was very light, almost Pearl colored, and her hair was almost Pearl Blond. Later she would see that she had bright blue cat eyes. Nizhoni wondered what her eyes looked like to normal humans.

There was a used women’s clothing store across the street and down a half block. She wished that she could be invisible on her run to the store but that didn’t happen. She curled up on the porch behind a potted plant as much as possible. Her wait did not seem that long when a woman unlocked the door from inside the store. Nizhoni quickly scrambled up and ran inside.
When the woman saw Nizhoni, she removed something from a rack and draped it around the girl’s shoulder. Then looking more, she said, “I am Liz and I have never seen anyone like you. Your complexion is so shiny and pretty. Where do you come from and what is your name?”

“I am Princess Nizhoni, and I am fleeing from those who would kill me.”

As the woman turned the Princess, she saw that what she had thought to be a cape on her back were actually pearl-colored wings and part of her body. Seeing that, Liz quickly helped Nizhoni get the cape under her wings. Then she helped with under clothing and finally a dress. Getting a Camisole on her was a lot of work with scissors.

As the women were working another woman walked in and began browsing. Spotting Nizhoni, she walked over and said, “My dear you are a boy magnet! That hair of yours is completely astonishing.”

“Hi Hanema, I am trying to conceal her, she is in hiding.” Liz said.

“Is that so, I have the perfect idea. We can cover her in a Headcovering called a Hijab and cover her body in an Abaya. No one will know. I have it all at home. I still hang onto those items when Mother and Father Visit. The women chatted for a few minutes while Nizhoni stood by. Finished, Hanema said to the young Princess, “Come home with me child and I will hide you.”

The trip home was short and when the two women were in the house, she fed Nizhoni Lunch. Finishing with her meal, “Nizhoni thanked Hanema gratuitously.” I was starving”. When they finished with the mess in the Kitchen, Hanema led her into her bedroom and pulled out a pretty, silken garment and a big loose dress with long sleeves called an Abaya. Hanema went to work with scissors and her sewing machine. In a short while she had slit Abaya up the back and sewn in a hidden magnetic fastening.

Once Nihoni was in that garment, Hanema draped her head with a one-piece Hijab (Women’s head covering). Only her very pretty face was exposed. She was fully concealed from her enemies now.

“Now you are concealed from your enemies. I know that you can divest yourself of those garments in time of need.” She spoke. “You, how did you know. Please don’t hurt me, am I safe?” Nihoni said. “No one knows that I too am a refugee and as soon as I saw you and your complexion, I knew that our time of exile was almost up!” Hanema emoted.
Instinctively knowing how, Nizhoni momentarily half morphed into her dragon form, a mere shadow, and then quickly back to her human form. She knew that garbed as she was, almost anyone would take her for a Muslim woman. Somehow Nizhoni now knew that she could keep her pack, Abaya and Hijab hidden between her two states. She was thankful that her naked streaking would no longer be necessary.

The need to move on was pulling at her, so Nihoni made her excuses and moved out on foot at Sunset. She had no further directions than to move Northwest. Later moving along in the near dark, a white van passed her. She sensed evil surrounding the vehicle and slipped off the road into the woods. She saw it stop and then reverse to about where she had been. It pulled off the road onto the shoulder and two men got out. A bottle fell onto the road as one of the doors were opened, and one of the men swore, perhaps because the container shattered.

Not having been in this situation before, as the men came into the woods in pursuit, she shouted at them to leave her alone. That just egged them on and soon one of them had knocked her down and had her pinned on the needled forest floor. She could feel him pawing at her legs and she became terrified. Without really thinking about it, Nihoni morphed into her Dragon form and promptly burned him to a pile of ash. The other one, now hysterical fled out of the forest and toward his Van. Nizhoni burped a long flame at him, but she was so short of Sulfur it did not go far. Her flame had ignited a small fire and she quickly patted that out.

Remaining in her Dragon form, she took to the air, but was almost too hysterical to fly. Down below, she spied the fleeing Van, and it was being driven in an erratic way. She was about to swoop down on the van when it left the road and down into a stream that was of sufficient size to submerge it. She circled once and seeing no life, flew on.

She flew Northwest through the night. It was a waxing moon, and the skies were mostly clear save for clouds near some mountains. After landing, Nizhoni morphed into her Human form near a large city. Looking around, she found a sign that said Boise.

Nizhoni found a room at a nice Motel and stayed there for two days. There was a nice Restaurant close by and Nizhoni became their best customer. Eggs, Hashbrowns, and milk were her favorites. For some reason, she found Bacon to be abhorrent to her.

Rested now, Nizhoni left Boise and wandered down a large river between steep mountains that formed a deep canyon. Later she would learn that it was the Snake River. Flying was exhilarating as long as she stayed high enough to not be identified. She was Flying along, about even with the canyon top when she felt a stab of pain in her chest. Looking down she could see her almost black blood seeping from a wound there. About that time, she heard the report of a large firearm. She climbed as fast as she could, and that carried her into some clouds. The pain was awful, and she flew along in the clouds as long as she could. Weakening, Nizhoni descended, almost too weak to continue. She saw a larger city to her left but just below her was a smaller one. She came down quite fast in an only partially controlled landing. Too weak to Morph to her human form, she lay there on mowed grass between several buildings only semi-conscious.

As her fortune developed, she had arrived in a Nez Pierce reservation town of Lapwai, Idaho. There were those around who still believed in the old ways and were not alarmed by the presence of a wounded Dragon. In her case, as we know her pearl color made her very beautiful. Someone quickly brought an equipment trailer and women spread blankets on it. Nizhoni was only about 300lbs so working together, they got her onto it. The Village infirmary was close though she was too large to get her inside, a canvas tent cover over her and the trailer quickly went up. Working together, the women and a medicine man eventually had the bullet out and used cautery to stop the flow of blood. Fortunately, it had lodged in a meaty portion of her shoulder and once healed, they hoped that she could eventually fly without pain.

When Nizhoni wakened, it was very early in the morning and almost everyone around her was asleep. Someone had applied a Sulphur and mud Poultice, and when one of the women looked, her wound was looking much less angry and red. She laid there without moving for several days, speaking minimally. Two of the women attended to her obvious needs and kept her clean. She was slow to eat but when they brought her a dozen pounds of boned, raw beef, she quickly wolfed it down.

Providentially, a man with a large hunting rifle that had been out on “Hat Point”, Oregon that day, had been bragging over too many beers, about shooting a Dinosaur. The story had gotten around, and Native Police had quickly confronted him where he lived in Enterprise, Oregon. When Nizhoni found out, she wanted to eat him, but she was still too feeble and had calmed before she could fly again. She was most distressed that she couldn’t morph back to her human form.

One day, a helicopter began flying up and down the valley where Lapwai was located. Soon it was obvious that it was a News Copter. When it made to land, tribal leaders met them and they were quickly told to leave and that the FAA would take their license if they bothered the Nez Pierce any more.

It was weeks before she felt well enough to move about. The people of that village were quite protective. After that, reluctantly Nizhoni had to agree to only fly at night and to keep that to one half hour. They had put up a spotlight shining straight up if she was late. She felt cared for if not too restricted, but eventually gave her word that she would obey tribal guidelines for her.

Finally, after months of convalescence, Nizhoni wakened one morning and shivering in the cold. She had morphed into her human form in the night, and the early morning fog made her so cold. The Tribal Elders did not seem surprised, and she spent the day eating and feeling happy.

While still too weak to be active she dreamed frequently of various Dragons flying past her sleeping place. Upon waking, Nizhoni wondered if those were wishful dreams or if her people were coming?

Some Native Americans have no problem with seeing dreams as prophesy. In my case they were prophetic. One morning, Nizhoni wakened to find what she knew was her father sitting by her bed, still in his Tarragon form. He looked ready to give her a severe scolding, but when she jumped into his arms, he melted. Her hosts had not moved her indoors because of the fear of her morphing back to her dragon form.

Her spirit told her that her people had come for her.

Sean, now Nizhoni did not know how to act around males without feeling fear. Previously, the man that she thought was her father was cold and fearsome, beating her and her mother, often for no reason.

He and his entourage would rest for a few days.
Nizhoni went to the members of the tribe that had been so kind to her and thanked them graciously. She was invited to return to visit as often as possible.

The Journey home would be tiring. In the meantime, her father told her that the incursion had been put down. He was still the King, and she would be schooled to become queen when a suitable mate was found for her. Her people from Marston could all Morph between what appeared to be a human form to a dragon form. The same wings that allowed them to fly in Earth’s atmosphere also allowed them to drop into another dimension and fly place to place in space at great apparent speed. Even so, the trip from Earth to Marton, in a pack to conserve energy would be quite a test. The trip home to Marton felt tiresome and perilous. Nizhoni followed her father obediently. On either side of her and behind were faithful soldiers of the King. She had come to Earth as an infant, in a vessel designed to protect her, so she did not remember the trip. At times she felt weak and frightened, but her guards would draw in very close to comfort her and assist her.

Upon arrival at Marston, Nizhoni was strongly invited to Morph into her human form by her father the King. This was almost her first encounter with a forceful male, and she found herself tearful and frightened. She was shaking in fear until a woman approached her and put her arms around Nizhoni. “I am your mother and have waited so long to have you home again.” That overly loud man there is King Harold. “See here now, you are terrifying your daughter”.

The woman walked right up to him, getting in his face. “You have frightened your youngest daughter until she is in tears. Stop this right now!” The king turned to look at his wife and within moments was looking quite repentant. “Your daughter just got here and has no familiarity with our culture at all.

Nizhoni was so shaken that she morphed into her dragon form and jumped into another dimension. She was uncertain where she was going and in time, she found herself falling toward scenery that seemed familiar to her. She was so exhausted that her landing was hard. She landed in a swamp that seemed to cushion her rough stop.

She had returned to Earth, but not in the same place, being close to 200 miles south of Lapwai in a shallow lake in Southeast Oregon. She laid there, exhausted and lost until she felt like she could stand. Flying seemed out of the question at least for a while. Still in her Tarragon form, the idea of Morphing to her human form was repulsive. Nizhoni shakily stood and walked out of the water onto a sandy shore of volcanic origin. She laid down again, tucking her front limbs beneath herself. Slowly she lowered her head and slept.

Something, a noise wakened her slowly. It had been so pleasant sleeping there on the shore in the afternoon sun. Smiling inside, Nizhoni raised her head and looked around. In shock she saw a Dragon twice her size that frightened her as much as the evil one who she thought was her father when she was growing up. She laid there quivering, not knowing what to do. Calm yourself Princess, I am your royal guard, Captain Haro. You will never be out of my presence again. You were lost and now that you have been found, there is boundless joy in the kingdom.

“But that man, the King is so scary to me. Will he hurt me? I should stay away so he is not angry.” “Oh no,” he said “He knows that I followed you and will bring you home again. If you don’t return with me, he will come for you because he loves you. The Queen was very angry that he was so gruff. Actually, he is very kind, and he will be to you also.” Captain Haro Said. Nizhoni heard a tone, and the captain held his right ear for a moment.

A blinding flash came and then the King and several guards were there in their human forms. Nizhoni had thought she was far too tired to Morph into her human form but when the king pointed at her she did it. Too frightened, she stayed on the ground. The King walked over to her and hoisted her into his arms. “Child, you have been away from the palace for far too long and it is time for you to come home.” He said, but this time he was gentle. “Captain Haro, assume your place beside my precious daughter.” The captain said, “Yes your majesty”.

Suddenly the group had shifted dimensionally and were on the way home. Nizhoni had no idea that the people could travel in space in their human form. She felt secure for the first time ever in her father’s arms and somehow the journey seemed to take less time. They suddenly landed on a wide parapet on top of the palace wall. Nizhoni expected to be put down and walk where they were going, but he carried her inside through a wide door then he placed her on the thickly carpeted floor on her feet. I will leave you to rest and to be cared for by your maids. Members of captain Haro’s company will be outside your door. With that, the king exited the suite and left her in the presence of her four attendants.

Nizhoni had no idea what to expect. In the last months she had slept under bushes, in barns and been made soaking wet by rain. Suddenly she was going to live the life of a royal princess, whatever that was. It did not take her attendants long to introduce themselves. There was Hala, Rama, Noor, and Bisht. The Queen told them that Nizhoni had no training at all and had been enduring very hard circumstances for years. They were to be kind to her without fail. With suitable curtseys, they all agreed.

In short order, Nizhoni was naked and in a huge tub filled with nearly scalding water and all sorts of oils and salts. Later she was out, dried and they were working her hair over. When they finished, she was wearing a soft, silken gown that allowed her wings to lay along her back.

Then came instructions for Nizhoni. In the presence of others when she met the King, a curtsey was mandatory; If alone then not. She never curtseyed to her mother. Instruction went on for days and days until it felt like weeks. Thankfully the women did not use heels. Nizhoni’s shoes were more like Moccasins, soft and comfortable.

She’d seen others about, but they were never close enough to talk to at length. The women seemed nice enough. The males seemed attracted to her, but they stayed at some distance. So far, no one had pressed her about seeking a mate. She was unaware that Haro was keeping other males away.

One morning she awakened at sunrise and knew that breakfast would not come until the day had warmed. Nizhoni was tired of staying in her rooms, so decided to sneak out on a self guided tour. She’d descended several flights of stairs, quietly avoiding Haro’s sentries she rather proudly thought. At the bottom, seemingly in the basement, Nizhoni found the kitchens. They seemed to be just starting Breakfast; some were bringing firewood in to stock the stoves for the day, though they were stocked up late at night in chilly weather. The smell of breakfast was making her hungry, and she momentarily thought to sit with the cooks to eat. She had just begun talking to one of them but suddenly the woman looked past her in astonishment. Nizhoni turned to see what was behind her and there was Captain Haro.

“It is not safe for you to be out alone my princess”, He said. She immediately curtseyed and apologized, despite all her instruction. “I was getting bored” Nizhoni said. She found him mesmerizing. A Curtsey was not recommended for him but she felt so enthralled in his presence, she did it.

Princess Nizhoni walked along feeling secure in his presence. She had no idea that his blood line made him more than suitable as a royal husband and King. As Queen she would share power with him, but she would feel that her primary purpose would be to mother her children.

Nizhoni sat in the nursery caring for her twins, one a girl and one a boy. What a strange life it has been she mused. How odd it was to have been soaking wet and fleeing in that downpour all those years ago. She and Captain Haro had enjoyed a decade long friendship, knowing that they would marry but being in no rush. He had sensed that she was not and would not be ready for a long time. The morning sun streamed through the windows of the nursery, bathing she and the babies in the warm glow. The door opened and in strolled her mate. She smiled and rose to greet him. Who would have expected such a lovely morning in such a joyous life?

Made To Look Like An AI

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

Fiction

TG Themes:

Accidental

TG Elements:

Appliances Attached

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Made To Look Like An AI

Gwen Brown

Waking felt awful. I hadn’t been out at the Pub and had not been drinking otherwise. I could tell from seeing my breath that the room I was in was cold. Yet I was warm, and cosy so would have liked another bit of sleep, yet I was firmly awake and feeling more alert as the headache and unwell feeling passed. Had I been drugged?

Swinging my legs off the bed, it was quickly clear that I was fully dressed in a jet-black suit. At least the shoes looked sensible, with almost no heel. There was a mirror on the wall by the door, and it showed a rather fashionable suit coat with gloves that I seemed unable to remove. The turtleneck top ended just below my jaw, and my head was covered with a snug hood and a face covering that left only my eyes visible through light coloured glasses.

I could feel a small tube in the corner of my mouth and when I sucked on it, there was a fluid that tasted like water. There seemed to be a camel back strapped to my back. I now sported rather nice breasts, though being a bloke, I wondered if they were silicone or somehow mine. I tried to speak but found my voice not functioning. Would my voice return?

I stood to my feet as I began to feel better and found a note on the bedside table. It quickly explained that my breasts would explode if I did not do as instructed. That was chilling! The note further instructed that I was to take two suitcases with me to the airport at Frankfort, and board the flight to Heathrow. The tickets, including boarding pass for the flight were in my right coat pocket. I was not to check the bags, that arrangements had been made to put the large one in the closet as I boarded and the other one was to go overhead near me. Looking at the boarding pass, it stated that I was mute.

Things went smoothly at Frankfurt and the flight was uneventful. As I got off the plane at Heathrow, Police intercepted me and took me to a private interrogation room. They asked me what was in my bags and unable to speak simply shrugged my shoulders. They said that they had x-rayed them and found only ladies’ clothes when opened and a letter which said that I had been terminated from my employment as a travel advisor. As far as I was concerned, the loss of that employment was of no consequence as I disliked it anyway. I’d been viciously pranked by one of the women there who had taken a liking to me, but I failed to respond. I knew that she was coming on to me, but she simply was not my type. The police wanted to know if I desired to press charges and I declined. It seemed a relief to be free to seek other employment. I even had the suitcases sent back to her. I had never cross dressed, and the idea lacked appeal to me.

I received permission to remain in the UK and today am working for a veterinarian and studying to be a Veterinary Assistant. I already knew enough English to get by, and in the north, almost to the Scottish countryside it seemed pleasant enough. I wasn’t angry with the woman who pranked me and I finally did get the suit off. After she drugged me, she had glued and sewed the suit on, though I have no idea when she got the opportunity to do so. Thankfully she did not get the glue on my skin. It was quite powerful stuff. My voice did return but was weak for a fortnight.

I am much happier here in the UK. Perhaps I just needed to be prodded to come here.

Miss X

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Marvelous Gadgets

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Other Keywords:

Cyborg ?

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Miss X

Sasha’s head broke the surface of the water just offshore from the little beach town. Looking around she could see that she had not visibly attracted attention yet. She’d swam almost 10 miles from the gear that she cached along a shallow reef. Taking her time, it had taken almost a day to get to shore because she paused along the way to snack on unwary fish. Sasha liked crab better, but it was too bothersome right now, besides they were better cooked in some cow’s butter. She’d been on the lookout for and found monitoring devices along the way but in her suit, it was unlikely that anyone would see anything but a large Dolphin-like fish. It was efficient moving in the powered suit, and stealth was her game, not haste. Sasha found the use of the monitoring devices suspicious and it perhaps confirmed to her that the people who put them there likely up to criminal activity.

Beneath the surf, she shed and discarded the suit, leaving her totally nude. The suit was biodegradable and would be gone in a few days. She began walking slowly up out of the water onto the beach, observing to see if anyone took notice. So far, so good. Her generous breasts surfaced as she progressed, and finally her wasp waist. To an observer, her ample hips would seem amazing. When she got to dry sand, Sasha sat down, facing the surf, as if sunning herself. In several minutes, it seemed clear that she had not attracted attention, so she calmly got to her feet and began walking up the beach, to take the path to the village. Her real objective was the mansion that the high-altitude reconnaissance photos revealed. The infrared photos had indicated that the main flow in and out of the mansion was not the front door, but that was no surprise. She moved easily toward the side door and encountered no one. Her mission was to burn down the mansion and to extract any hostages left over from the criminal invasion. There were no constraints on her as to how to deal with resistance. Having been a Seal of sorts in her male life before they’d killed her, she knew how to act with extreme prejudice.

The researchers had essentially cloned her, making changes clear down to the Chromosome level in some cases. She had a female appearance down below, but only a Vagina and not a Cervix and Ovaries.
Sasha felt amazed that no one confronted her and as she moved through the huge mansion, she found several bodies. She had almost finished searching the upper story when, her enhanced hearing, heard quiet cries were revealed from above her. It took her a few minutes to find a door to the attic in one of the closets. When she popped her head up through the hatch, she could see what appeared to be a pre-adolescent girl lying on a blanket and weeping. Sasha quickly moved to her side and began to comfort her.

“Hi sweetheart, I’m Sasha and I’m here to get you out of this. Is there anyone else alive?”

“I don’t know. Momma pushed me up here and told me to stay quiet.”

Sasha said, “OK, let’s get down and finish searching. Can you be quiet and stay with me?”

The little girl just nodded and stood up.

“I’ve searched the first floor, the second one and now this. Is there anywhere else?”

“There are two basement levels” The little girl said.

They eased down out of the attic and then down to the first floor after quickly looking at the second floor again. Matilda (Matti) showed Sasha the door down, and Sasha was going to hide her on the first floor, but she refused to stay alone up there.

In the first basement, they found more bodies, one of them being the father of the child, but amazingly Matti was unemotional, perhaps due to shock. In the second basement, they found Matti’s mother badly beaten and chained, and had to work feverishly to set her free. Sasha did not let anyone see her break the chains. Sasha told the mother her name, and she replied that she was “Mary”. The mother could barely stand but seemed to revive a bit when Matti got a wash cloth and bandages from the bathroom down there. Matti’s mother seemed to already know that her husband was dead. “They lured us here for a vacation and then drugged us. I woke up here in the basement after they captured me upstairs.” The mother said. “Frank tried to stop them, but they shot him”. She was very shaky.

Sasha had been aware of the red blinking light when they came down, but other matters distracted her from addressing it, so when she finally returned to look at it, there were 90 seconds left on the timer. Seeing that, Sasha ushered them up to the first floor and out the door as fast as she could and as it was, the blast still knocked them down. It completely demolished the house, leaving a dusty hole in the ground. They laid there recovering. Matti’s mother had a foot-long splinter in her shoulder, and Matti had wounds from rocks. Sasha was not at all what she appeared to be and was uninjured. The splinter in the mother’s shoulder easily came out, and the bleeding stopped almost immediately, not a good sign. Sasha felt it was better for such wounds to bleed freely at first. Sasha would have to get her to a doctor soon to avoid potential infection.

Momentarily, they could hear people coming so the three of them hid in the dense undergrowth, as villagers passed to survey the damage. The girls wanted to get up but Sasha motioned for them to wait when two men carrying guns came up the road. They looked at the wreckage and laughed. “That takes care of the traitor and his family.” They laughed a little more and then walked back down the road.

Sasha wanted to know where they were going so she told the woman and her daughter to stay in the brush while she stealthily followed. Sasha was very good at this and kept to the shadows. They walked back into the village and then over to a large yacht that was moored to a crude dock. Sasha slipped into the water and swam underwater down to the cruiser, getting there just as one of the two main engines started. She knew she needed to move fast now. She slid up the side of the boat and onto the bridge like an Octopus. One of the men was up on the flying bridge, and a surprise throat lock and quick twist broke his neck. The other man was just coming up out of the engine space and he saw her before she got to him. He pulled a machete and came at her, so she stepped aside and smiled at him when he swept past her and turned around. Sasha’s own Drow sword seemed to materialize in her hand and a flick of her wrist had him lightly impaled; not enough to kill him but enough to make him reconsider any movement.

“Sit”, she murmured to him. Her voice revealed that she was having fun and would love to put him out of his misery.
For the next half our he talked to her, answering any question she asked. He seemed to know that when she removed the sword, he would bleed out. Having nothing to lose, he was truthful, though he did wonder at her ruthlessness, and calm in the face of it.

Sasha let go of the sword and walked to the door. “You know you are dying, but I’ll leave when up to you”.

Though she’d instructed Mary and Matti to stay concealed, they were standing on the boardwalk, in full view. Sasha waved them over and told them to go below to see how much food and water were on board. Sasha dropped into the engine room to see how things were. There were two 6-cylinder diesels, and the engine room was immaculate. A smaller generator sat in the corner. She could see a water maker on the port wall. Several fuel gauges showed that all but one tank was full, but she “sticked” them anyway to confirm it.

She told the two women to stay below until they were at sea. Sasha did not want Matti to see the body. Sasha cast off with the onlookers not helping, and deliberately swamped several of the other boats as she blasted out of the harbor. She figured they were at least collaborators, if not fully culpable to the crimes committed on the Island.

Sasha did not know what Mary’s role, if any, was in the horrors that were committed there and wasn’t that inclined to ask.

She made it a policy to keep certain things about herself to “herself”. By now, with the boat slowly cruising on the Autopilot, Sasha had disposed of the bodies, and moped disinfectant onto the cabin sole to get rid of the blood save for a few stains. Both Mary and Matti were sleeping when she checked below. It wasn’t surprising, considering what they’d been through.

In a small room off the engine room, she found a weapons cache large enough to start a small war. She put some grenades and other goodies in a bucket and stashed it behind a fuel tank, hoping that if the police did a search, they’d miss those things. Her internal navigation took her to the place where she’d cached her gear, so she set the anchor, shut off the engines and taking the keys, dove overboard to retrieve her belongings. When she surfaced, both the girls were looking anxiously over the side to see where Sasha had gone.

Not knowing how far they had to go to get to a city, Sasha looked in the Captain’s log to see what economy cruise was, and found it was 9 knots, almost but not quite hull speed. The engines were amply sized for the boat and not strained.

Sasha calculated that 2 hours would get them to San Diego but the Coast Guard warned them not to enter there so she piloted the boat to Mission beach and tied it up at the Visitors Dock. She gave the mother and daughter a gym bag that contained so much money that she was afraid to count it. “Where are you from?” She asked.
“I’m sorry about your Husband, where are you from?” The woman told her that they were from Boise.
“You don’t have any of your papers with you, do you?” She said she didn’t.
Using her own ID, Sasha rented a car, and they took turns driving the 14 hours. Once they got home, Anne, the mother, was able to retrieve enough documentation to get another driver’s License. Both the girls broke down and wept, slept and soaked in their hot tub for two days. Sasha used their computer to check in with her boss. The passwords were ridiculous, so she got online easily. He gave her two weeks off.

Sasha stayed with the women for almost all the two weeks. They needed the support of someone reliable. Sasha returned to the rental in Spokane and paid a cab to take her back to Boise.

Such was Sasha’s life, appearing human but actually a technological construct. She had no need or ability to have a family. Those who built her did not know if she would age or wear out. She’d continue on for almost another 9 years until she exploded at the end of a failed mission in which the enemies had obviously figured her out and wanted to capture her to copy the technology. Those who built her could not allow that.

`````````````````````````````````

Moonlight

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Mature / Thirty+

TG Themes:

Other Keywords:

Other cultures as usual.

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

I'm editing this to make the TG element stronger, and intend to add an indeterminate number of chapters following. My muse has directed that this story will take an astonishing change in direction.

Moonlight

Gwen Brown

A lonely, divorced and abandoned woman finally pays an escort to take her out. She feels that if she is careful, she can afford to do this once a month.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The afternoon had been hot, but the late afternoon breeze had begun to make it more comfortable. Still, the only dress that felt right to me was a black floor length one with no slits, and with long sleeves and modest neck, perhaps a carryover from my Middle Eastern background. I used my favorite pearl necklace and dangly gold ear rings. I suppose the clothing was so modest because I still felt invalid even after all these years since my corrective surgery. Oh, a Mini and a tube top would have been so nice, but at my age, hardly appropriate.

We'd never met before, so when he rang the doorbell and I answered the door, he was a pleasant surprise even after seeing his picture on SKYPE. We chatted for a minute as I checked to see the stove was off and the cat had food. He looked to be over 6’ and muscular. His face was like looking at stone, but his quick smile and gentle eyes beguiled me. My body tittered happily as we walked toward his car, and what I saw was a very pleasant surprise.

We were going to drive my car, but when he showed up in an Audi R-8 Coupe, I would have begged to ride in it in the most compelling terms, had he not offered. I did not ask if it was his and he did not volunteer the information. He was so attentive, opening the door for me, and guiding me into his car and later into the theater. It helped me to forget somewhat that this evening was costing me $200 escort fee. I knew little about him … he could have been straight, gay or one of those FtM transgender people, you know the kind. All I knew was that the agency had approved him and that they had a good reputation. Eleven years after the devastating divorce because of my first being thought to be TG, I finally realized that I did not have to cope with the feelings of abandonment all the time, that I could occasionally pay someone for companionship to ease the terminal, crushing pain of desertion. Later Doctors told me that a genetic component, XXY had actually driven all this, though the family would never accept it.

The movie was one of those cartoon book like, violent shows for the young with lots of one liners, and colorful, giant, mechanical warriors. I thought it would be a good distraction from a life that ate away at my well-being all too much. The sociopolitical commentary I wrote, and published online made my living but often, being faced with the dismal likelihood that nothing I said would change the world, sometimes it drew the life out of me. The fate of the human race looked sadly bleak at times.

This was Jon’s first assignment with me, but he seemed relaxed and confident. He treated me with more dignity than I felt entitled to. In spite of the gender surgery a few years ago and the later identification of the genetic condition that caused my body to betray me in my youth, I sometimes still felt like an imposter.

I’d given him $50 on top of his fee to feed us and to ply me with the spirits. It was clear in our agreement that our activities tonight and for the foreseeable future would not include coitus.

The evening was absolutely lovely. We sat in the dining room theater and drank IPA and ate mediocre cheese Pizza in the twenty or so minutes before the movie started. He revealed himself to be a brilliant conversationalist, and drew me in with his wide ranging interests. There was a slight untraceable accent, that I could not identify. His quips during the movie and his comforting me in the harrowing parts made the evening so much more fulfilling. At several places in the movie, the action was so sudden and violent I simply covered my eyes and squealed like a child. I jumped and wailed with unsophisticated weakness. Much to my wonderment, his arm around my shoulders, drawing me to his hard, muscled chest felt unimaginably comforting. In a short lull in the action, the armrest separating us disappeared. He'd claimed his place, however temporarily, as the strong, masculine, master of my life, fulfilling a longing that I'd felt for so long but had no way to meet myself.

When we came out of the movie and began to walk down the street toward his car, he kept me tucked into his side protectively, he asked me, “If you were going to be wild and childlike tonight, what would you do?” His question took me by surprise, but the forbidden beer had relaxed me. It was not permissible in my culture, and his warm comforting made me feel special.

Having just sighted the full Moon, the warm evening felt special and I was hardly ready to return to the sometimes claustrophobic feeling apartment. On the spur of the moment, I said, “I would go up on top of Larch Mountain in the dark and watch the Moon and hope that the Stars would sing to me”. We chatted about incidental things as we finished going to the car. Again he handed me into the car, and surprising me, he buckled me in by leaning past me. Whatever he had on his skin seemed to hypnotize me and I behaved myself, playing my role in this dream as well as I could.

I was so caught up in conversation with Jon, that I did not realize he was not taking me home until his car rocketed onto I-84 East. I did not know how fast he actually went but it was the most thrilling ride I’d ever been on, surpassing even one of those wild fun park rides! "He must be taking me to Larch Mountain" I thought. As late as it was, I knew it would be 1:00 AM before we got to the parking lot at Larch Mountain. The car was so fast that it seemed like a very few minutes before we left the freeway and started up the winding road that led to the view point. I’d felt as if the ride was less than an hour and with him, it was most certainly far less than one hour! The car swept around the corners so fast that had I not been strapped into the seat, I should have been plastered on the windows on both sides of the very fun car. I was giggling and screaming all the way! I felt completely safe because of the way he commanded the car.

My initial fear of our hitting a deer was lessened when I looked at the dash and could see a false color image projected inside the windshield. When I asked about it, he said it was an infrared projector of his own design. As we roared down the road, I saw the image of several deer painted there on the windshield, but they were far enough off the road to allow us to pass without concern. Just as we entered the parking lot, a deer ran right in front of us, but he quickly slowed down to allow the doe to pass. When we parked, in the Moonlight, I saw two fawns rushing to meet Mom.

The air had cooled and had a slight chill to it. Jon surprised me again with a huge coat, far too large for me but very warm. Even at 4000 feet, I was warm and snugly. We slowly walked across the parking lot, the amazing Moon and star light provided enough illumination for us to walk cautiously up the path and then pick our way up the stairs to the top. I’d worn low heels but in his sure arms there was no fear of falling and when I stumbled he magically caught me as if he was Thor or someone. We walked slowly and in a few minutes we were at the last few steps to the top.

He handed me out onto the fenced, reasonably flat top, and the sudden view of Stars and the dimly lit surrounding terrain had me clinging to him, my face buried in is chest. Eventually, peeking out from my hiding place, we looked at the Moon making Mt Hood glow in the dark. The Moon was about to set, and in a little while we would see the Milky Way marching around the sky. We sat there and watched as it all happened. I felt so snug and safe and secure.

After the Moon set we stayed a little while longer and as we left clouds began to set in around the Mountain Top, making our passage down even the short distance to the parking lot seem hazardous. I had the little flashlight I always kept in my purse, and he had a strange looking green light that helped so much more than mine.

On the way back to my house, he drove smoothly but still reasonably fast and in spite of my original excitement, I dozed off. It was a great surprise when the engine shut off in front of my home. He helped me from his car with the same grace and courtesy he used to pick me up. I told him that I would like to use him again sometime, and he said to just give him a call. His endearing smile made me want to abandon our agreement and take him to bed.

I watched him walk out to his R8, start it and leave. Standing in the open door way I imagined I could hear him far longer than I actually could. My heart ached at his absence. How on earth could I bear this? Sighing deeply, I turned and shut my door. Even at almost 3:00 AM, sleep would not come swiftly.

That was weeks ago, and while I wanted to see him again, there were unexpected bills and I could not afford it.

I was sitting there writing one night, almost ready to get dressed for bed when through the open window I heard the unmistakable noise of an R8. I heard it getting closer, and then the noise of a freight train in the distance drowned it out. By the time the train passed, the R8 was gone. I sighed and went back to my story. There was no sound of steps on the walk or on the steps. Presently, there was a knock at the door. I looked at the clock. It was almost 9:00 PM. Was it too late to answer the door? I had a feeling that I must answer.

When I got to the door, I looked out the tiny port, and there stood a familiar looking man with what I thought was a head dress. My heart knew it before I did. I would never forget the garb of my once deep faith that had disowned me when the change came. Inside my house, the covering was not required so he could not accuse me, even if he wanted to do it.

I opened the door and it was Jon! He was wearing Arab Thobe and Saudi style head dress! If I had stood there a while, I would know the tribe because of this distinctive style. I stood there, completely mesmerized, unable to comprehend what I was looking at. Finally gathering my wits about me, I intelligently said, “ I … What … Who …Oh my gosh … I don’t … Wait …”. I slammed the door in his face and ran into my bedroom and into my closet. In the back, even after long disuse, hung my black Abaya, but I would not wear it tonight. Old habits die hard and in just a minute I had my long skirt and my top off and replaced by the long sleeve one and put my Hijab that I wore every day back on my head. I did this in such a flurry of activity that I do not know how it actually happened.

I opened the door, fearing it might not reveal him, but it did. “Little sister, now you wear Hijab for me but why not the night you paid me to come?” Rather than try more intelligent talk, I just looked at him. I know our culture dictates that I lower my eyes, but my heart rebelled.

“I had business or would have returned sooner.” He said.

“I cannot pay you”. I murmured.

“ It is I who should pay. Would my heart be payment enough to pay you?” He asked. My mind could not comprehend this. What was he saying? “I don’t understand. You can’t love me. You don’t know me. It can never be!” I returned.

“How about if we ‘fly on until dawn?’, and in the mean time we can talk about what can and cannot be?”

“No wait, I have questions, and I have to pack and clean my apartment and talk to the landlord and store my car and oh …” His finger was covering my lips. He smiled at me. “Let’s talk over breakfast in Monaco?”

How could this ridiculous dream really be happening to me? Then, it was clear that life had no value if it didn't.

As we were walking toward his car, a woman in a white dress,and a man in a black suit were walking past us. “They will take care of everything”. He said. This time I did not try to speak intelligently.

As we rode in his R8, crazy fears flitted through my head. What would they think when they found my tight black suit and weapons, all part of another life that now seemed more fantasy than anything.

Musings on "Vide Cor Meum"

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Autobiographical

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Musing on “Vide Cor Meum”

Gwen Brown

Another relationship a complete disaster, so being completely shattered, listening to music seemed soothing. Men are so fragile. Once he knew, when I told him, his eyes grew vacant and he awkwardly left, saying he had things to do at 11:00 PM.

Life had gotten better as growing maturity kept up its relentless assault upon my immature, idealistic mind that wanted to lie on the steps and piteously howl in pain. So this time the music on my laptop and watching the river traffic seemed sufficient, with the added advantage that there would be no need to be bailed out of jail, or neighbors to look scornfully at me as I staggered, looking bedraggled, home mid-day.

The song, “Vide Cor Meum” had been so intriguing that I played it again, this time finding the lyrics in English, what did they mean? “And thinking of her sweet sleep overcame me. I am your master” Whose master? Was a man telling this maiden that he was her “master”? Oh in the heart and soul of my own imagination I long for a master, but reality dictates that I may be alone in that desire. Oh in “50 Shades” his fantasy is that he is her master, but in the dozens of women I have met, none of them wish to be mastered. Even the married ones seem to allow their husbands the vain imaginings that he is her master, but secretly smiling, she knows where his handle is and what to do to get what she wants. She wishes to be cared for, not mastered. Every woman is a queen at heart.

Oh, there are the abusers and the beaters, but they are nothing; of no consequence in the vast scheme of the universe. They will live a hell and die hated; to be inhabited by a torment that eats their very innards, taking an eternity to do so.

“See your heart, your heart”. The lyrics lack explanation; some would perhaps see the departing of The Christ. Others might simply see a beautiful, yet inscrutable Opera. The music reminds me in some small way of Thoreau’s “Thanatopsis”.

“So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, which moves
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.”

Another troubled night. At least this morning the bedding is still on the bed. Some mornings it is on the floor or even across the room. I wonder if nightmares are flash backs? Neither, knowing or caring, life is taken head on, without emotion, knowing that they will not see the pain or anguish that lurks inside, whether they don’t care or it is not revealed to them.
What happened to the inexhaustible tears from years ago? There was the crying all the day long, the succumbing to drugs of sleep, the waking up in the middle of the night weeping and then sinking back into mindless troubled slumber, and awakening in the dim morning light with cheeks wet with tears. How many months or years did that continue? Such grieving, such abandonment, why did they not simply murder, commit murder? Perhaps they simply murdered a soul to leave a numb shell that does not know enough to pass on. Who shall put it out of its misery?

Eating unsalted fried eggs and freshly buttered toast with some apricot preserves, and sissy creamed and sweetened coffee, the restlessness sets in. Looking from the 4th floor window, the day looks partly cloudy with no frost, and eyeing the thermometer it is in the low 40s. Briefly flicking through the grey library inside my head, yes, the bills are paid, and one or two tanks of gas might provide enough radical distraction. I’ll pass that abutment where one small error could dash my car and I to pieces, there will likely be no departure from that sweeping turn and the short flight into the shipping channel. The unshed tears are useless, there is and will be no one to hold me and warm my chilled soul. The thoughts of suicide are always never far away but you simply see the hopelessness as an unwanted companion but not dangerous.

Gazing at the lyrics on the lap top, “Joy is converted to bitter tears” that cleanse my soul, “I am in peace, my heart, I am in peace; see my heart”. What a lovely piece. Not having done any research on it I am surprised to find that it was composed by a blooming Irish man, not the Middle Aged Italian composer I had supposed. So, it is not all Blarney Stone and Leprechauns for them? What else do you expect from an ignorant American? The joke is on me, is it not?

On the road East, I can cruise for miles at 72 miles per hour, carefully treading the edge of legality. Even one more mile per hour might net me a heavy fine. There will be no traffic lights or toll booths for more than 300 miles. At this speed, the Idaho border is only hours away, but I find more solitude in the semi desert farmland that is divided by 5000 foot passes. Perhaps this time I will find a place to park off the beaten path, away from the city lights, and to watch the galaxy wheel by in the night. It is a gloriously silent symphony that challenges my imagination. In an hour or 3 I will turn South. When I stop somewhere it is 50 or more miles to the nearest human. Perhaps in the solitude out there lie peace and the embrace of the God I hope for.

While I camp men have driven up in aging, dusty old Ford trucks. They mostly said, “Howdy” and wished me a pleasant evening, but did not stay.” They had no need to know about the .38 under the bedding at my right side.

Sometimes one day on these trips is enough to restore the heart to continue. At times it takes two or more days. If there were the funds, I would let my apartment go and never return to life in a city that is not as hospitable as it was 60 years ago.

There will be no visitor to gently ask to come into my dry, baked heart. We continue on with dwindling hope, not ending it because we try to believe what some faint lie tells us. There is an agreement with the one who is the master of my own soul. As long as someone asks for help, I will not refuse them as long as I am able.

Yes, “I am in peace, see my heart”.

Office Girl Prequel.

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

Fiction

Genre:

Transformations

TG Themes:

Age Dysphoria

TG Elements:

Corsets

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

XXX

Out of Business

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

Short-short < 500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Out of Business
By
Gwen Boucher

I’d contemplated this for a long time until it was clear that I was still trying to live two lives. My enfeeblement was more of a problem every day. I had to stop deceiving myself. A friend quickly took my tools for free. It did not seem important that it was more than $1500 out the window. It felt embarrassing that even while lying to everyone, telling them that I was a woman, that I was stupidly trying to ride two horses and that needed to stop. It was clear that my life needed more credibility. How can you show up at a friend’s house in a pretty blue skirt suit I had had made in Bangkok, and then start putting in an electrical outlet?

Now, even thinking about it, the facts are hard to face.

My body was increasingly reluctant to perform like I was 18 years old. Shoulder joints, hands, knees, and feet were feeling like they were part of a cadaver. I could not even remember my phone number last night, sheesh.

I needed groceries, so tomorrow I’d put my bike kit on and ride the 4 miles on my electric assist bike to get yummy food. I had discovered some ground beef burgers with Thyme and Blue Cheese in them. With Mushroom soup, and sliced Potatoes and 2 hours in a 375-degree oven… yum! I felt no shame at all.

With Covid 19 there would be no shopping for a nice dress. Tomorrow, perhaps I’d put my 50’s themed dress on over my corset and stockings? Cannot use perfume because of my COPD destroyed lungs. Not going to wonder how much time is left, just going to enjoy what there is. My therapist keeps suggesting that there might be a partner out there for me somewhere. To her I laugh, but privately I wonder what could take me unawares?

Pretty Fixture

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Science Fiction

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Pretty Fixture

My name is Anastasia Johnson, Annie for short. I was a high school Junior with 4.0+ grades and babysitting two children, twin girls, age 8 years old, the evening that this happened. Their parents arrived home earlier than usual and with them came the husband’s brother, Blake. I was rushed and as soon as they paid me, I was in my little car and on the way home.

A few days later, Mrs Edwards called me to tell me that her husband’s brother wanted me to call him, that he had a business offer for me. She knew that I was saving money for college. I did call him, and he asked if I could come to his estate golf club for a meeting. It was early June, and I would be starting my last year of High School in the fall. I could have graduated early but liked school, so I didn’t. I already had acceptance letters from lots of colleges, but wanted to stay in Stanford, California and attend their college to be close to home, at least at first.

I knew that my parents had paid to have my genetics tampered with, and only the Doctor doing the tampering knew how much he did. Both my parents were scientists, but actually knew little outside their disciplines. My parents could have paid my way, but I wanted to earn my own money and do it all myself. I was sort of a bookish tom boy and had no plans to even date at all. I got a shot that shut off my ability to get pregnant, but that was just a precaution in case something happened. I’d never dressed up though did have both pants, dresses, and skirts. I hated bras for my moderately sized breasts, so just wore bralettes or self-adhesive nipple shields. I did not know that the egg that made me had been fertilized XY but was changed to XX at my parents’ wishes.

I knew that I had a tracker in me and that when I slept at night, a coil in my mattress kept it charged. Without the charging, it would work for several days. I did not know that there was a paid team that followed me and had strict instructions to never make their presence known. In the year “2525” criminality was greatly reduced but my parents did not take chances and did their best to ensure that I was protected.

I met Mister Edwards in a vacant corner of the cafeteria at the club at 2:00 PM. We chatted for a few moments and then he got right into his proposal. He knew that I was very bright and quite pretty. That day I wore an ankle length short sleeve dress. His proposal was that I be a “pretty fixture” at his club for he hoped 20 hours a week attended at my own discretion. There were no requirements that I mix with anyone, and I would use my own judgment about what I wore. The renumeration was much greater than babysitting and included a very generous clothing allowance at several prestigious stores.

I was naive when I started working for him, though I wondered if there was something I was not seeing. He was happily married with grown children and did not take advantage of the vulnerable. Still a virgin, my superior intelligence excluded boys for now. Mister Edwards had informed the various stores that I would be appearing there and that they were to ‘dress me up’. I continued to live at home and deliveries for me were quickly unpacked by the maid and put away in my suite of rooms. My tomboy clothes quietly disappeared to separate storage though I would not let her throw them out.

Feeling some responsibility for my image at the club, my first day was heeled colourful sneakers, mini skirt and crop top. I usually kept my blonde hair in a single, hip length, braid and had grown very adept at braiding it after I shampooed it. I tried to be there about 4 hours a day with my daily hours varying. Anyone who was inappropriate around me risked expulsion. The management was absolutely supportive.

XXX

I wakened to hearing the voice of a woman from something like an ear bud in my ear. She said that if I did exactly as instructed, I would live otherwise something on my body would kill me. She didn’t elaborate except to warn me that my speaking would cause the same thing.

I didn’t know that the Doctor that did my genetic work secretly harboured a grudge against my father and was willing to wait until he could inflict the most pain on my father. Initially, he had been told not to try to contact me or I would be killed. And I was told that if I disobeyed it would lead to my death. So the vengeful Doctor had done a great deal to make our lives miserable. We had both been told early on to not involve the police.

Later, we would find out that the supposed explosive devices around my neck and waist were completely harmless despite the fact that the fastenings were too fiddly for me to remove alone. His plan fell apart when he was visited by the FBI and FDA for suspicion of fraudulent diagnoses and unneeded drug prescriptions, which he charged exorbitant amounts for. In their legal searches (Warranted) his plot was discovered. It took a while and in the meantime he was arrested trying to flee the country. He was held without bail despite the impassioned testimony of his attorney.

I was nearly 30 years old by the time his trial concluded. He was given a very long term in prison. We are watching to see if he gets out before the term is up. The press is full of stories where criminals who were supposed to be languishing in stir, somehow got out much earlier.

We and our Attorneys are watching.

Pretty Fixture (Edited)

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Younger Audience (g/y)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Pretty Fixture

I knew that my parents had paid to have my genetics tampered with, and only the Doctor doing the tampering knew how much he did. Both my parents were scientists, but actually knew little outside their own disciplines. Mom was a Biologist and my Father was a Theoretical Physicist. My parents could have paid my way, but I wanted to earn my own money and do it all myself. I was sort of a bookish tom boy and had no plans to even date at all as is common among ‘brainiacs’. I got a shot that shut off my ability to get pregnant, but that was just a precaution in case something happened. I’d never dressed up though did have both pants, dresses, and skirts. I hated bras for my moderately sized breasts, so just wore bralettes or self-adhesive nipple shields. I did not know that the egg that made me had been fertilized XY but was changed to XX at my parents’ wishes.

I was naive when I started working for him, though I wondered if there was something I was not seeing. He was happily married with grown children and did not take advantage of the vulnerable. I did not know that he was being subtly manipulated by the original Genetic Doctor. Still a virgin, my superior intelligence excluded boys for now. Mister Edwards had informed the various stores that I would be appearing there and that they were to ‘dress me up’. I continued to live at home and deliveries for me were quickly unpacked by the maid and put away in my suite of rooms. My tomboy clothes quietly disappeared to separate storage though I would not let her throw them out.

Feeling some responsibility for my image at the club, my first day was heeled colourful platform shoes, mini skirt and crop top. I usually kept my blonde hair in a single, hip length, braid and had grown very adept at braiding it after I shampooed it. I tried to be there about 4 hours a day with my daily hours varying. Anyone who was inappropriate around me risked expulsion. The management was absolutely supportive. I liked the easy money but was clueless that others saw me as beautiful.
XXX
As my shift at the club ended, someone slipped a hallucinogen akin to Rohypnol into my glass of water and I still don’t remember anything after that. I wakened to hearing the voice of a woman from something like an ear bud in my ear. She said that if I did exactly as instructed, I would live otherwise something on my body would kill me. She didn’t elaborate except to warn me that my speaking without being prompted would cause the same thing.
I didn’t know that the Doctor that did my genetic work secretly harboured a grudge against my father and was willing to wait until he could inflict the most pain on my father. My father and I were very close, so anything happening to me would be most painful for him. Initially, he had been told not to try to contact me or I would be killed. And I was told that if I disobeyed it would lead to my death. So the vengeful Doctor had done a great deal to make our lives miserable. We had both been told early on to not involve the police. Neither of us knew if they were as ruthless as they purported to be.
Later, we would find out that the supposed explosive devices around my neck and waist were completely harmless despite the fact that the fastenings were too fiddly for me to remove alone. His plan fell apart when he was visited by the FBI and FDA for suspicion of fraudulent diagnoses and unneeded drug prescriptions, which he charged exorbitant amounts for. This was a pleasant coincidence. In their legal searches (Warranted) his plot was discovered. It took a while and in the meantime, he was arrested trying to flee the country. He was held without bail despite the impassioned testimony of his attorney.
I was nearly 30 years old by the time his trial concluded. It is common that criminal trials take years and years by the time they get through all the appeals. He was given a very long term in prison. We are watching to see if he gets out before hia term is up. The press is full of stories where criminals who were supposed to be languishing in stir, somehow got out much earlier.

We and our Attorneys are watching.

Set FREE

Author:

Ahabidah

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Character Age:

Senior / Sixty+

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

To repeat myself, this is a completely true story. I left out details that could be used to hurt me or others in this account.

Set FREE !

Chapter 1
Perhaps there will be more.

I had a long life and was thankfully disowned by my greedy unforgiving children. My mate of 38 years was now my X, and died also. My other relatives had all passed.

It was peaceful alone in a one-bedroom apartment on the 4th floor. Not having drank or smoked, I lived a modest life.

Almost a decade ago, I realized that owning a car was too expensive and now live more comfortably on Social Security. I did not understand why I got so much but didn’t ask questions. They might want it back.

After serving in the Army during the Vietnam Era I did not trust the Government. That was for a very good reason. It was not ALL McNamara's fault.

Perhaps because of PTSD? I had gender change surgery. Not blaming anyone. After that, life was a lot easier not having to take the Bull that males do.

Briefly, I took an apartment that turned out to be too strange for me. Then the Police came and started to arrest me until the owner, a woman too old to turn tricks, told them that I had nothing to do with what they did there. I thought that I had rented a cheap apartment.

The place was closed before my first check, and after what had happened, I didn’t expect that.

One day I met an Elderly couple and the wife’s sister while waiting for the Streetcar. The encounter only lasted minutes so there was not time to learn much besides exchanging phone numbers. They “said” they were visiting their daughter in Dental School and were from Bend, a town south east, across the Cascade Mountains from here.

It was a nice exchange. From my own past I rarely trusted anyone.

They texted me the next week wanting to meet for coffee. I felt safe enough to meet at a new place a couple of blocks away. I have learned not to trust myself and braced for pointed questions about my real gender and other things. I thought that anyone could tell that I was a man under my disguise. I had been prepared to tell them that I did not talk about my past. That never happened and they soon said that they were a couple of semi-retired medical researchers looking for a house mate at their retirement cabin in the country.

They said that as Medical researchers, they knew little about wells, plumbing, electrical and other infrastructure.

I had nothing to lose, so quickly said yes. When it came to money, I was pleasantly surprised to find that they wanted to pay me generously. In my cynicism I half expected to pay them.

We talked more and I revealed that I was in good health aside from the disgraceful state of my teeth that had really fallen into decay since Covid. There were several reasons for that. Mostly it was my fault.

After a phone call after we sat in the coffee shop, the wife told me that we needed to go to the Dental school, just a short walk from there.

A young woman, I assumed their daughter, took a short look in my mouth and got her Professor. They were all very kind to me. He said the work could be accomplished under conscious sedation anesthesia in a single day. I would stay there overnight, and they would do the restoration the next day. Complete recovery would take a few weeks. I signed medical releases to allow the use of experimental drugs and procedures. In my mind, I had nothing to lose.

Before I could adjust, I was riding in their RV on the way East. It did not matter to me where we were going. I did not care if we stayed west of the continental divide, and most certainly out of the deep south. My prejudice told me that only red necks lived there.

There may be more to follow...

Silent Run

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Other Keywords:

From old Thumb Drive.

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Silent Run

Le Juif Erant

Gwen Brown

The slim unclothed bipedal humanoid appearing figure walked quietly along passage of the mile and a half long star ship Le Errant. The being’s skin colour was light, almost white, and the long, straight waist length hair was the most golden blond, almost as if it were made of real gold. That combined with nearly luminous blue eyes gave it an astonishing beauty. Its pace was unhurried but purposeful and in another 20 minutes it arrived at the door to the control room. The press of a single button opened a sliding door and it walked in. Shortly, the young teen emerged from the dual door air lock and walked through several short passages and into the control room. It had spent its entire life alone, and had no concept of gender, nor did it seem to exhibit any secondary sexual traits though it had learned through the study modules that it was Homospatia an evolved version of Homosapiens, or so the makers hoped.

Long gone, almost forgotten, not even the makers remembered that 900,000 Earth years ago, the target planet Earth supported a very advanced civilization that had begun to send out colony ships. After a few hundred years, the Earth was so poisoned that wars developed and humans on that planet became extinct. It took less than 100 years.
The being was about to make a discovery that would shake it clear to the core of it’s being. It was brought to consciousness 15 Earth years ago for the purpose of inspecting certain maintenance and repairs that the main program had predicted. The craft had cruised through space for many thousand years with essentially no occupancy but the time for a sentient presence had come. When it was ‘born’ there were a half dozen years in an automated nursery learning and developing body coordination.
It stopped at a restroom at the back of the control room and used the facilities. Afterward, washing its hands, and face, mild surprise played across its face as it viewed the reflection in the full mirror. Its eyes were large and round, abnormally so for a humanoid. The nose was relatively tiny, and the small mouth sported fat lips. The face was pretty, comely even, but had an alien look so mysterious that it would frighten strangers. One of the evolved features was the presence of third eye organs located in the sinus cavities of the face that imaged from the infrared to the ultraviolet range, so the being needed no light except in very cold conditions.

The Mirror revealed undeveloped breasts and down lower there was nothing at all that would reveal gender. Save for a small urinary orifice and a passage for solid matter, there was nothing. The blankness between the thighs would be surprising to almost anyone on Earth. It sighed briefly in disappointment and turned to move into the command bridge. Something had been troubling it lately; some stirring within, some longing that was never felt before. As it moved around checking various instruments and gauges the readings seemed satisfying. An almost unnoticed push of a single button and large screens revealing what lay outside the huge craft suddenly came on.

There were several different views at various levels of magnification. The area in the centre of viewing wall showed a greatly magnified view directly ahead. To the right and left of this view were unmagnified views to the right and left sides of the craft respectively. Dozens of other, smaller screens showed various views down the sides of the huge ship and various critical areas on board both outside and inside.

The teen, named Asma had been on the ship alone for as long as it could remember. As a toddler, it inherently knew how to look after the ship and had done so, alone, for at least 14 years. In all that time, it had never spoken a word or cared to do so. Its hearing was absolutely acute, and it loved music of all kinds. As it finished in the command centre, it started a long series of classical music to begin with “Spem In Alium” by Thomas Tallis, some would say. While others would say that his work was a copy of earlier German work. Asma smiled momentarily, doubting that anyone, if there were any alive cared who originated the music.

In a huge dark, sealed compartment just aft of the control centre laid an Artificial Intelligence module whose performance was increasingly out of tolerance. By design, the whole space vessel, including the vaguely human appearing mobile occupant had rigidly controlled mission parameters. The purpose of this mission was to destroy all sentient life and prepare the possibly regenerated Earth for colonization by the humanoids of the home world, Makkah.

War was completely unknown on Makkah because they searched increasingly large areas around Makkah and stealthily destroyed any sentient life they encountered, thus preventing any war before it could happen. So far, their efforts had worked out for them, but not without dissent on the part of some on the Makkan home planet. Any disagreement was resolved quietly and ruthlessly with none but certain of the effete knowing. However, in their ruthless efficiency they had wounded and offended one of their own.

Young Kanye was a very good student of Philosophy, who had suddenly found an interest in the technology surrounding Artificial Intelligence and space travel. He’d never spoken of it to anyone, but the brother of the parents of his best friend had been purged in a disagreement about the regulation of personal freedoms in the general population. Two boys, Kanye and Ruu, had long been aware of the monitoring of everyone’s activities and long ago, it had become a challenge to them to find ways to communicate without anyone knowing. They were very aware that certain activities were not acceptable, and they knew which ones, so they had become extremely careful to conceal their stealthy industry. It had taken years to understand the depth of the craftiness of their watchers, and they had even been caught or allowed themselves to be caught enough times to perfect their clandestine strategies.

So, when news of the murder of Nuu’s uncle came to them the ruthlessness of their rulers became too much. The boys became young adults and finally men. In their times alone they tried to build a plan to either take down the government or attain more justice for the citizens of Makkah. Everything they thought of seemed doomed to failure no matter what they did. Finally the middle aged friends gave up, or at least stopped speaking of it. Nuu however did not give up at all and continued plotting in secret for years more. Meantime, Kanye became more and more involved in his AI work, even finding a way to make them last far longer than previously.

As the two became old men, closer to the end of their lives, no one suspected that they had developed a plan and worked on it for over 20 years. Part of the plan included the ultra-miniaturization of memory modules, and secretly they installed several times more than most thought necessary in the actual structure of the control room and AI centre of the new space vessel. Meanwhile, Kanye had worked on a way to directly link AI Modules to the Makkan brain.

Weeks before a new exploration vessel was due to launch Nuu passed away. It was not entirely unexpected, though most thought that he would last years longer. So it was that Kanye tearfully bid farewell to this newest exploration vessel. The departure would be tomorrow, and he was suddenly called away to attend to personal business hundreds of miles away and would not see the actual installation of the AI complex. “Too bad”, his work associates said.

The exploration vessel Sophont would take more than 53 years to reach Earth as it turned out. 31 Makkan months into the mission, out of tolerance things began to happen in the AI. The mobile AI, which appeared humanoid, began to experience malfunction that caused it to deviate from prescribed procedure in that it began to build a laboratory and suspension tanks that were not part of mission directives. The program that was to cause the manufacturer of a disease and genetic mutation that would wipe out life on the target planet was altered. Eventually, the mobile AI was altered so that even if a major deviation from the planned mission occurred, it would not be able nor wish to send out an alarm. On at least 5 different levels, the programming was changed so much that any communication with Makkah was now impossible.

After 30 years of service the Mobile AI ceased to function due to critical conflicts in its prime directive programming. Asma was by now fully functioning, save for its diminutive size. The consciousness of Nuu was fully online now and while it was never documented, certain critical material and memory modules that contained Kanye were functioning in Asma. Certain hormone levels had been changing in Asma for the last year, and on Asma’s 15th birthday, Asma began to think of itself as she. Though Kanye had never confided to Nuu deep inside he was she. Though they never spoke of it, there had existed that tacit understanding.

One of Asma’s tasks was to search for and destroy the secret guard module on board the ship that would detect major long-term departure from the mission plan and cause the ship to self-destruct upon detection of deviation from mission parameters.

Asma stood in front of her new, clandestinely manufactured mirror. It was wide and tall so she could see her entire form in it. Slowly over the last several time periods (months in earth thought) Asma’s height increased. She had been receiving signals from the target planet Earth for some time now, and it was in her mind to learn from and adapt to the information she received. Upon her arrival there, Asma had her own agenda that was completely different from that of the planet Makkah. She intended to help the newly developed sentients become aware of the threat from Makkah and to send a mission out to eradicate it once and for all.

Striving For Identity.

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Striving for Identity
By
Gwen Brown

The hour was late when the sheets finally released me. It was after Noon. The Temperature was likely to be over 27 today. Being elderly the warmth would be pleasurable perhaps. The painful Arthritis might perhaps not voice it’s displeasure. It would be too warm for my usual long skirt on my Electric assist Bike. I loved it, those in Denmark were so clever and at my age I did not feel motivated to go through the torture of coaxing a regular Bike, no matter how many speeds, across the city. It was clear that I would never have the fat bottom of the girls I admired. Sorting through my drawers I found a pair of black leggings with an attached, Leopard print skirt, but could I muster the courage to wear that in public? Even with a very padded Ladies seat, I would be very sore before I knew it. I pulled on a pair of Medium Depends, hoping that would add some fullness to my butt, and keep me dry if my Kidneys decided to release without warning. I had a Ladies tank top with built in bra, that I feared should be a size larger. I wondered how ladies got the courage to go round outside without a shirt over that. I put one on but left it loose. My Covid mask would form part of my disguise. Where I live, one seldom sees anyone without one.

My Tyres were inflated to half their Maximum and there was no forgiveness in them despite hydraulic forks and spring-loaded seat. Who was I joking with? I would never be an elite athlete.

The ride North between the High Rises seemed to generate their own strong wind. I had been blown off my bike once there. Today there was no gale and I arrived at the Tilikum Bridge. For reasons that were beyond me, it carried only Passenger Rail, Buses, and pedestrians. I had hoped to arrive at a Bike shop before they closed but that was not to be. Perhaps tomorrow?

Just wondering, I stopped at a friendly Market. I found Beer with no Alcohol. I had gotten a fright from drinking Ale, staying up all night writing and using a drug called Trazodone. I had no memory of reading a story in the past and the Author was asking questions now. I felt like a Tot caught weeing on the sidewalk. For now, there would be no more Alcohol. Yesterday I was greatly surprised that the American FDA had a recall out on Trazodone. Would that spread?

The streets were almost absent of traffic and I enjoyed that. Perhaps there would be more pleasurable rides this summer. It seemed that the Rioting by the young YOBs had paused. Just waiting for another high visibility news story to occur. I used to be a LEO and we never shot anyone who had not been aggressive to us.

Lots and lots of Laundry tomorrow. Perhaps a ride after? For Dinner tomorrow, perhaps Spaghettis' and Meatballs. Perhaps I will not worry about if they have Pork? Perhaps Allah SWT will not punish me? Can I find meat balls without Pork? Perhaps I can purchase some shelled and cooked Shrimp and put them in Pasta with white sauce. These are so much more pleasant ponderings than when I was impersonating a Man and wondering why that was questioned.

The Bodycon Dress

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

The Bodycon Dress

My ancient BSA Lightning Rocket was feeling her power as we blasted along a straight stretch coming out of the mountains. Riding at over 100 miles per hour was too tiring to do for long and presently I let my speed drift back down to around 60. That would still get me to my destination soon enough. Emerging onto arid semi desert, the road undulated over rolling hills. I still remember, after all this time a very different life, the huge Bison standing in the middle of the road. With little time to stop to avoid it, I almost made it but another one that I had not seen blasted into me at a full run from the side. My world descended into blackness before I even hit the pavement.
I gasped as I wakened from the most horrifying nightmare. In it I was a mean, criminalistic, man that frequented seedy bars, and abused women. Perhaps the fates had conspired to put the shoe on my other foot in a vastly different way?

The searing pain on my lower back wakened me. Reaching back there was an extremely tender area; I could not tell the size. Perhaps it was smaller than my palm? “Do you feel your brand, Marcie? It will heal in a day and now you will obey me completely.” I wasn’t yet fully conscious. I remembered going out to dinner with Mark. We worked together at his Engineering firm, and dinner was supposed to be a work meeting. He had ordered us both martinis, but I had insisted on a Shirley Temple. I must have been in the bathroom when he drugged mine. I remember leaving the restaurant but not getting to my car.

“Your Car is still in the parking lot and when you are fully awake, you can get dressed and I will take you to get it. You won’t notice any difference with anyone but me, and when I tell you to do something, you will do it. He was right. When I got home, I had a long bath and then fell into bed, completely exhausted for the rest of the day.

The next day was Wednesday and I went to work, not thinking about what had happened. I remembered but was not upset at all. Sometimes vague, indistinct echoes a motor cycle and of the Bison crashing into me rang in my memory. We worked all day on the design of a new six story office building. He specified a two-level garage under it and the owners liked the idea. Later I found documentation that revealed a very high-water table. Mark thanked me for catching that and added increased pumping and drainage.

“That was sharp of you to catch that issue with the water table. I’m taking you to dinner. You will be my silent observer.” “Great, but please don’t drug me again, OK?” He promised not to, but I did not remember that I would have to do what ever he told me to do. There was a door in his office that I thought was a small closet, but it turned out to be a dressing room that included a full bath, larger than his office.

He told me to go and bathe and to put on the clothes he had laid out. The bath was wonderful. When I got out there were stockings a garter belt and heels. There was no bra but there were silicon nipple concealers that left me feeling insecure at first. They proved to be dependable, so I stopped worrying. I was just finishing when he returned carrying an orange lycra dress on a hanger.

The fabric of the orange bodycon dress was almost sheer but so strong. He held the hem open and helped me wiggle into the dress. It felt so tight and snug and as soon as I tried to take a step, I almost couldn’t. I’d put my stockings and heels on before I stepped into it. I was sure that the garters would show but they didn’t. My thong would prevent panty line. My heels felt towering but before I put the dress on, I could walk surprisingly easily.
It was surprising that my arms came out of the dress low on my shoulders.

He helped me to the door and draped a cape on my shoulders. I was thankful that he kept his arm tightly around me and sat me in his sexy car. He fastened the seat belt, and I knew he would have to take it off because I could not reach it. The fabric grew stronger and tighter, perhaps from my body heat I think, and by the time we got to the restaurant, he almost had to carry me in. He patiently let me hobble in tiny steps when we were inside and then to a quiet back room.

There were two couples waiting when we got there. I was mincing along as fast as I could. He pulled the chair out for me and helped me to sit, pushing it in again. I doubted that I could eat or drink very handily. The men talked about golf at first and then after drinks began to discuss the building that we were designing. I was intimately involved in the project but felt that I could not contribute to the discussion. The other women had nothing to say, just primly sitting there and smiling. I would remember everything that was said and that was all.
Dinner was ordered. He ordered Rib Eye with Sweet Potato and Asparagus for two. He had wine and he ordered me a non-alcoholic Pina Colada. He cut some of my Rib Eye for me and ate as he talked. I’m usually quite talkative but I felt no desire to contribute that evening. It seemed that the men had come to agreement and after eating, we said goodnight and Frank left, handing me along out of the restaurant and into his car that the Valet had brought around. Again, I had almost no mobility. The steps down to his car were impossible, so he carried me across to his car.

I wakened in my apartment, in my bed. How did I get here? I had no memory of it. Looking at the alarm clock, I could see that I had to be at the office in an hour. Rushing, I was through the shower and dressed very quickly in skirt suit and heels. Breakfast was a reheated coffee and a roll. Locking my apartment, I rushed out to my little car. Beside it sat a BSA Lightning Rocket.

The Cat Princess, Ch. 1

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Other Worlds

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Accidental

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

The Cat Princess

Chapter 1

Gwen Brown
3/27/2017

She’d explored part of the Jungle until she ran into a huge mirrored wall. In it, she could see her own reflection and it astonished her. While undeniably a big tan jungle cat with tiny wings, she also remembered life as a human. She also knew that many of her features were very human; almost as if her shape was part of a morphing process that was not yet complete and later, looking back on this moment, she would realize that she had no memory before a little while ago, and her changes were just a reflection of what was to come. Turning, she moved gracefully down along the mirror wall for a short way while looking at her own reflection. Hana liked what she saw; her own reflection seemed almost erotic to her as she watched her body sensuously move along; making her feel slightly lustful. She was undeniably a Jungle cat and partly human too. The tiny wings seemed comical to her, making her smile.

Somehow, though Hana did not comprehend it, the human features seemed male to her, and at times seemed tormented almost as if there was another person within struggling to get free to break his captivity. The impression lasted only a brief time and then the maleness within was overcome and sank back into the depths of the big female cat.

She knew what a human looked like and had the vague feeling that in another life she may have been human, but something seemed a bit off. How she got to her present state did not worry her but she knew that a change, a big one, had happened. Somehow, she knew exactly what to do as a cat; a big one. Yet, she had visions of lying in a big luxurious bed and she was no cat at all.

Hunger pangs drove her to turn away from the mirror wall and move into the jungle to hunt. Perhaps a small deer or a juicy piglet would sate her need. She moved on for some time, listening carefully, and waiting for the scent of her next meal. Her sharp eyes picked up a distant movement in the lush green vegetation. The birds and monkeys were unaware of her presence. Their constant cacophony of sounds showed that they were completely relaxed and oblivious. Her sharp eyes picked the movement up again but this time closer.

Her body freezing, she waited patiently, not a whisker moving for what could be her dinner to move closer to her. Presently, a young piglet emerged from the undergrowth. One second it was not there and the next it was, but with no perceptible movement. Hana watched it, muscles tensing like hardened steel springs, as the fattened youth turned its head away to grasp a tender morsel, and then she sprang. Landing right in front of him, she nearly lost him because his terrorized squeal momentarily startled her. The taste of his warm blood in her mouth caused her to growl aggressively. The birds fled in abject panic, and the monkeys hopped about in, screaming in alarm like she had in fact attacked them.

A few minutes later, she was almost finished feeding on the bloody mass that had once been a Jungle Pig. She’d managed to get to its heart and tear it out as it was still beating and consume it, leaving its eviscerated innards to steam and smell. The shoulders and flanks were delightful. Hana was just deciding that she was full when she heard very quiet but heavy sounding footsteps approaching her hiding place.

Suddenly, His massive head appeared out of the brush. Hana froze. She had never seen this giant before. He was much larger than her, perhaps twice as large and she had no recollection of him. In fact, her memories were limited to the last few hours when she first became self aware. He moved slowly to confront her. Looking at him, she admired his body; his huge wings. He was gigantic to her and appealing, evoking a sense of wonder and fear at the same time. His appearance made her want him to touch her. Suddenly he roared at her; filling her loins with a combination of fear and need. Hana could not understand what she felt. She had no memory of any similar occurrence.

He moved to stand over her menacingly, but nothing told her what to do in response. He shook the very jungle with his roar. Then roaring loudly again, he used his right paw to cuff her alongside her head. It hurt a lot and she roared in defiance but retreated to a safe distance from her kill. She laid there watching as the other cat; finished consuming the piglet. It did not take him long to consume what was now his dinner, and then he stretched his wings and flopped on his side after he roared in satisfaction.

Hana laid there watching this strange and exciting newcomer. He had hit her, but she sensed it was not a killing blow but merely the assertion of his power. She felt so attracted to the now dozing giant that she eventually moved near him. Sniffing, his smell was intoxicating; doubly so due to her inexperience.

Anxious now, she felt increasing tenderness and heat and it started to make her writhe in a need that she did not understand. Instinctively, Hana laid down near him with her hind quarters close to his head. Presently, he raised his huge head, rolled his upper lip up and sniffed the air. He roared as if irritated for being disturbed. Hana purred back at him, growling softly occasionally. He was soon on his feet standing over her, and something made her spread her hips and cant her tail off to one side. Amid much roaring, he moved over her, and began probing with something that she suddenly decided she wanted in her. She raised her hips to meet him and soon he’d rammed himself into her innermost depths.

Hana felt like fighting him off but he was so dominant that all her roars simply seemed to drive him on. She became extremely agitated and suddenly he had her by the back of her neck; forcing her to submit to him. She felt so hot and agitated; it felt like her mind might snap. Then suddenly overwhelming feelings of pleasure began to wash through her until she was mindless. She could feel her consciousness drifting away and then she was mindless.

<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

Jim wakened from the strangest dream he’d ever had. When he opened his eyes, it was clear that he was not in his bedroom any longer, in fact his last memory was of sitting in the local pub drinking a warm Guinness and eating an American Style Hamburger. The Guinness was hard to come by but after searching around the city, he found a pub that served it; the juicy, barely cooked rare Hamburger being an unexpected bonus. He’d acquired a taste for warm beer after an emergency landing in Ireland. The plane he’d been flying, an experimental electric model powered by a fusion repulsor drive had failed over the Atlantic at 70,000 feet had a sickening glide ratio with the power off, so when the Nav instrument revealed a strip on Ireland, he didn’t fool around and landed. The strip was frighteningly short and the plane ran off the end of the runway, but the field was soft and the dead stick landing did no damage aside from the mud and cow manure on the underside of the aircraft.

After a few days, his repaired aircraft seemed to be performing flawlessly as he flew back across the Atlantic to the desert of Western Utah. This time at over 300,000 feet, the aircraft was being held aloft almost exclusively by repulsor drive; the air being far too thin at almost any speed to help. Not even Mach 6 would help much, though the time back to the research center was not long at all.

He looked out his canopy window and saw a vehicle unlike anything he’d ever seen. He was about to report this sighting and … blackness … At his scheduled arrival time, his craft landed and stopped at the end of the runway and sat idling.

When the officials arrived to investigate, they would find it unoccupied.

Waking in a luxurious bedroom, he was quick to understand he was not in his bedroom and not wearing his own clothing. Jim felt chilled and horrified to find that he didn’t even seem to be in his own body. This one felt soft and round and he could feel soft hips and perky breasts. “What is going on?” came the anxious question that made him realize once and for all that he was in the body of a young woman now. Her voice was feminine and seductive, but something inside stopped him from losing it completely and going utterly hysterical. Laying there thinking, he realized that she would have to decide on a personal pronoun; that to keep using both was completely unacceptable.

One of the first things after that; she needed to use the loo, and very soon indeed. She levered herself upright and swung her legs off the bed, or tried to until she discovered that the bed was large enough for a wrestling match, or so it seemed. The thought sent a naughty frisson involuntarily coursing through her loins. So, wiggling for a bit she was able to get to the edge and scrambled down off it. She found she was wearing an extremely voluminous gown that had a high collar, no sleeves or opening for her arms and reached the floor and felt astonishingly soft. In fact, her arms were under the gown that covered her like a huge frothy cape. Searching around the spacious and ornately decorated room for a toilet, she finally found a doorway and through that opening stood a single commode, alone, with no tank or controls. She didn’t look around, her need being so great, she simply ran to a position on top of it, did her best to get the gown out of the way and sat. The release and relief was so wonderful it was almost excruciating. She couldn’t see a paper dispenser, nor could she find her way through the voluminous froth surrounding her to use it even if she found some. While she was considering that, she was surprised to find soft spray washing her, and then very warm air that made her eyes cross. The warm air stopped, almost disappointingly, when she was dry.

After exploring the bathroom to find nothing in there but the stool, she walked back out into the huge bedroom. The bedroom was huge and had floor to ceiling windows on two corners screened by very pretty, flowered diaphanous drapes. The room had lovely chairs, stools, dressers and tables and there were doorways leading to what seemed to be closets.

Through the windows was a dimly filtered, sun washed balcony that drew her enticingly. She moved through an opening in the drapery and out on the long wide space that was paved with white marble and had a stone railing enclosing it. Parts of the space had a flowered vine covered latticework that gave shade. Walking cautiously to the railing, she gasped and stepped back in momentary fear and dizziness. The jungle covered ground was a very long distance below; perhaps it was miles beneath her?

Hana, that was her name. She knew it somehow without even knowing why she thought of it now.

Cautiously, she edged back toward the railing again and after a time found she could get close enough to see directly below. It was all gently rolling hills covered with forest it seemed, and it stretched as far as she could see with no mountains or rivers of any kind visible.

Hana stood out there enjoying the songs of the birds and the warm moist breeze. Thinking scientifically for a moment, the young woman understood that the coolness up there was perhaps due to the adiabatic cooling of the high altitude, and she felt thankful that was the case.

The jungle cat existence that she lived part of the time was confusing and she did not understand what caused her to switch back and forth between the two plains of existence. Was some part of it a dream, and if so, which part was the dream? Yet she knew it was a part of her life. She could also remember her very stressful time as a human male test pilot.

Since the catastrophic wars of the late 21st century and the invention of fusion reactor and repulsor drives, air travel had almost entirely replaced ground travel except for short distances. The wars ground to a halt with no one really knowing why. Some scientists insisted that human genetic makeup had changed but could give no explanation as to why. Others simply assumed that mankind had finally understood the futility of wars.

The inventor of the drive first insisted that strange Aliens gave him the knowledge to make it, But it was soon evident that if he kept insisting on his lurid story, no one would take him seriously. So, though he knew what really happened, he gave up and went back to his work. Big money and corporations soon tried to take over, but he’d quickly gotten so many other people involved that the ideas were all over the globe before they knew it and they completely lost control.

Some local roads were still used for walking, but freeways and internal combustion engines were gone. Even residential areas were constructed in such a way that livestock kept the grass short. The use of hydrocarbons for anything but lubricating oil was obsolete, in just a few years’ time. Even now, lubricants made from plants and minerals seemed to be very good and getting better.

Travel in local space had become very easy, though Galactic distances still made large scale exploration impossible, though there were plans for huge spacecraft that would leave earth, never to return, exploring in search of inhabitable places elsewhere. Even cruising at near the speed of light, exploring beyond our own Galaxy was simply not possible. Another epiphany in space travel would be required, and those who were secretively providing information were not foolish enough to give it to Homo Sapiens yet.

She’d been out on the balcony a while when a woman about her size, with shoulder length brown hair, wearing a light blue smock, with brown skin startled her. “Princess, your breakfast is served.” She said, then turned and walked back inside. The woman’s words interrupted her daydreaming for the moment. Hana realized that she was quite hungry, so followed the woman. Someone had moved a table with a chair into the bedroom, and the woman led her to it. The woman pulled the chair out for her and pushed it back in when she sat. Hana was surprised to hear a click when she did so and belatedly realized that the seat had locked her in place at the thighs. The Nurse placed covered plates in front of Hana, so she began to try to get her hands clear to feed herself.

“Sit still child, I will feed you, and when we are finished there will be a bath.” She said.

“I can feed myself.”

“Nonsense Princess, you know that is not permitted.”

Confused, Hana said, “But I want to do it, and why can I not feed myself?” Hana was feeling quite upset, and her voice rose in pitch and volume.

“Princess, if you do not behave, I will call the discipliner.”

“What? You can’t do that to me. I won’t allow it and I will fight you.”

“Please Princess, I can’t allow you to conduct yourself in this manner. If you do not stop, there will be consequences.”

Hana could feel herself getting more upset and soon began to cry.

The woman walked out of the room, leaving Hana in heaving sobs. She walked over to a terminal and spoke into it, “Discipliner”.

“Yes, Nan”.

“Hana will require some adjustment when you get time. I knew the King should not have allowed her to have other dimensional experiences.”

“I will be right there, Nan”.

Hana was still crying when a huge man, feet taller than Hana, and twice her weight walked in and approached her.

“Princess Hana, you must control your emotions and conduct yourself appropriately”.

“You can’t make me, I will eat my own food and do as I wish.” She said through tears and much sobbing.

“Very well, your grace, I do this only to help you remember your identity”.

With that, he released her from the chair and picked her up to carry her over to a bench and sat down. He laid her across his lap and raised the many folds of her skirt until her derriere was bare. Without further explanation, he began to strike her there with a leather flogger that had been hanging on his belt. At first Hana was silent but as the blows wore on she began to weep softly, finally apologizing and asking for him to stop. Finally, after several more blows, he did.

“I am sorry my Princess, but this is necessary to help you remember yourself.”

Sobbing softly, Hana yielded, “I will obey, but it is unclear what I am supposed to remember.”

“Remembrance will come in time”, your grace. “I do this only out of solemn duty”.

He stood and walked out. Hana was allowed to sit for a time on the bench, unencumbered, to calm herself.

Presently, her nurse came back, seated Hana, and fed her. At times she calmly chewed, enjoying the delicious repast of assorted fruits and cheeses. Then her nurse put something into her mouth that seemed to taste of blood, and suddenly Hana was overcome with predator like aggressiveness; roaring with great menace. After, it was clear to Hana why she was restrained when eating. She knew that she would have killed and eaten the nurse if she could, and a sense of self-loathing swept over her.

Presently, Hana calmed and her regal demeanor returned.

“Will you release me now so that I may walk along the balcony? I long for it.”

“I will for a brief time after your bath, but soon you must sleep again, my Princess.”

“Thank you.”

“You are quite welcome; we all know this is difficult for you.”

The bath, in a huge pool full of scented waters was glorious despite the suddenly barred door and several female guards. “Who were they guarding?”, she mused.

Presently, once again out on the balcony, Hana strolled happily along the huge terrace. She turned a corner and in the distance, she could see impossibly tall mountains with snow on top.

At the next distant corner, the balcony overlooked a wave tossed sea with a light warm breeze coming off it. In the distance, she could see white sails, or were they clouds?

The next corner revealed her nurse patiently waiting for her. “Hana dear, it is time for you to lay down; to dream and to know your future perhaps.”

Slumber slowly overcame Hana, and then she was back in the Jungle. The big male was with her and seemed to be attempting to show her how to use her tiny wings. There was no vocalized speech, but something seemed to happen in her mind. She watched as he rose on flapping wings, flew in a circle and then landed beside her. After what seemed an interminable amount of time, Hana felt her wings start to grow as she moved them and wished herself to fly. Amazingly, she rose from the ground made a couple flaps and was so enraptured at her own performance that she lost concentration and fell to the soft jungle floor again.

The huge male cat, seeming to laugh, laid down, and Hana, still very attracted to him laid beside him. It was a surprise to her for him to place on of his huge paws over her and draw her into his belly…

Hana could feel herself wakening in bed again. It was easier to get out of bed this time and her night gown was less voluminous and had long sleeves so she could use her hands. She understood the use of the bathroom now and danced in there before it was too late.

Finishing, she moved back into the great room, hoping to find her nurse had brought her breakfast, but no she had not. Excited and hungry, instead of going out on the balcony, which she knew well by now, Hana poked her head out into the passage to see if anyone was about. No one was present, but she could hear voices, and since she had not been forbidden to do so, Hana padded down the passage toward the voices.

“The enemy has advanced an astonishing distance in the night, and despite the storm.” A male voice said.

“This looks perilous. If this continues, we must take steps to protect the Princess.” A woman whose voice she recognized as belonging to the nurse.

“She’s not strong enough to use dimensional power on her own. A few more weeks and she could subdue and route that advancing army alone.”

“Yes, I know. I fear that the King and Queen labored in vain to produce one like her and we will fall too soon. It is a tragedy that treacherousness killed them.”

They finally noticed Hana’s presence in the control room doorway.

“Princess, now that you have seen and heard of our dire circumstances, you will know that you must work very hard to learn of your capabilities, and then you will be taken to a safe place for your own protection.” The nurse said.

There’ll be more, sooner or later, depending …

The Curse Chapter 1

Author:

Ahabidah

Caution:

CAUTION

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Character Age:

Preteen or Intermediate

Other Keywords:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

The Curse

Chapter 1

The man had failed to meet an agreement, so his son would pay the horrible price. Now she, SHE would always be doomed to wear black, to include head covering, face covering, gloves, and floor length gown. The nerves to her vocal cords were cut, so it was intended that she would never speak. They had threatened to blind her and if there was any attempt to escape the curse, they surely would, they threatened.

She never attended School, did not have a name, and was never spoken to. Her sole pleasure was to be tenderly held by her gentle attendant when she needed it. Her mother had died birthing her. The enemies planned to never let her marry; unless …

When she was 12, a man came to see her. Leaving her coverings on, he bound her wrists to her ankles, and took her from behind. She had never masturbated but when he was in her, she liked it, and eventually she laid there mindless from all the pleasure he had given her.

There were others like her. They slept, ate, and lived together, nesting and crying out like baby kittens. They were never taught anything but learned to enjoy sex, and none of them were ever taught to resist. They knew that they had experiences where they felt good but never knew why or knew about the mind bending substance, they ingested that kept them high and acted as an aphrodisiac. Their sole purpose was to be filled. "It was all they knew" according to the soldiers and officials that eventually rescued them. It was a statement that was common among soldiers that encountered female residents of Iraq and Afghanistan during the wars of the early 20th Century.

Having sex while on her back or on her hands and knees was almost always good and was her purpose, according to her primitive reasoning. She knew to take an object into her vagina that would flush her out and keep her clean and unpregnant. When she was 18 and well developed, she was taken out of the black clothing and was either nude or put in sexy clothing. She never slept with a male after sex and would not remember it if she had. She slept in a room with the other girls like her. The room was warm and dry. They slept, ate, and bathed together but never engaged in lesbian intercourse.

Someone put them in the sexiest clothing. Their blood chemistry was monitored to keep them compliant and at a bimbo IQ level. They never remembered the men that had them. Some of those who took them liked to tie them up or put them in restrictive clothing.

One of the men that was a regular liked her in a very tight corset. One of his favorite activities was to have her laying face down on a table with all four limbs bound with steel. Her behind was hanging off the table to facilitate her being taken. Her head was off the table to facilitate her being deep throated. These sessions lasted for hours, and then she was allowed to bathe, eat, and sleep a little. There was obviously no need to gag her.

One of her criminal companions did not want her to see him, so he took to putting long lasting drops in her eyes that would blind her for at least a day. There was still light but her eyes did not focus on anything. The eye drops were similar but more advanced than those used in eye surgery.

One day, everything changed. ‘She’, was still blind from being taken by a man and then there was silence. She was freshly bathed, and fed, but the eye drops had not worn off. He had bound her in a perverted way so she could do nothing but lay there and be available in any hole that he chose.

The substance that kept her high and not pregnant had not been given. Her lower stomach ached and cramped. Gradually ‘she’ began to have feelings about her life and to want something more. For the first time in her life, despite all the conditioning and gaslighting, ‘she’ experienced anger and frustration. It did not matter how she was trained, she did not like it.

Her vision slowly cleared and there was a girl about her age that looked just like her. She was clothed and acted very differently than ‘her’. She said that her name was Andi, short for Andromeda and that she was pretty sure they were siblings. One of the Doctors on the team would do a blood test and then they would know.

Andi was very angry to find that ‘she’ could not speak, read, or write; that ‘she’ had never been educated. It developed that ‘she’ had been kidnapped years ago and they had finally broken the case. There was a gang of very perverted uber rich people who paid to have ‘her’ kidnapped but they had missed Andromeda. It had taken 7 years to find her nameless sibling.

It would take years of loving support to remedy the trauma as much as possible. ‘She’ became Melanie and went to school for years. Her previously suppressed IQ increased to over 150, but her libido remained strong. Melanie got on a monthly birth control shot and started having her period after her false vagina was replaced with Nanite grown real, functional female reproductive system. Melanie would tearfully learn to cope with the cramps, the blood, the desire and the sweaty overheating between her thighs.

For the first time, Melanie learned to read a clock, do math, and that it was now December 24th, Thursday, the year 2111. There was a fledgling colony on Mars and some of the Asteroids. The very brave and persistent were mining a special type of stone from Mercury that would, in the years to come, lead to very fast space travel that would allow the exploration of the Milky Way Galaxy. Faster than light travel would not come. That was the stuff of Fantasy Science fiction storytelling.

In the meantime, the family of Andromeda and Melanie would prosper. They would survive numerous wars until Earth was so damaged that it took all of humanities’ energy to simply survive.

Homo Sapiens would perhaps become Homo Spacia, or something like that. And with that bit of evolution, who knows what sort of faculties they would develop. Gender Confusion was still with us, but the dismay over all that greatly diminished. Now people simply lived the way that pleased them. Pants would disappear.

Many of the fiction writers of the past foretold exceeding the speed of light by 10 or more times, but that violated so many of the laws of Quantum Physics. Humanity would never be all he imagined.

There may be further chapters…Depending…

The Real Woman (Edited) Um, "fixed".

Author:

Gwen Brown

Caution:

CAUTION

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Other Keywords:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

The Real Woman

Gwen Brown
March 1, 2017

The enemy had captured Pvt. Alice Brown and Abda while they were hiding in an irrigation ditch, up to their noses in freezing, dirty, bug infested water. She, an American soldier, had been driving a 10 wheel (2 1/2 ton truck) in a convoy headed up to a village in a steep canyon, east of Jalalabad, Afghanistan. Her truck was hauling bottles of water and a water filtration plant, along with various food items. They were supposedly the relief column after much of the village had been covered by ice and rocks in a slide.

There were six other trucks, with armed vehicles in front and in back. They were supposed to have air support, but the weather ceiling was right on the deck so they couldn’t get to them. The new” see through anything aircraft instrumentation” boys were supposed to have been here, but they were late getting out of Germany. The V-22 IV’s had been greatly improved, and then they mounted special equipment and the word was that only a Tornado would stop them. They were supposed to sport a new gun with ultra-accurate, but slow fire, where one round would take care of business, rather than a burst of 30 cal. Hmmm, that remained to be seen.

You’d think that after more than 22 years fighting in Afghanistan that we would have better weapons. HMMMM

The closing down of the weather was a surprise, but there was no place to turn around, so for now they warily trudged on, hoping for the best.

The first Alice knew there was trouble is that her truck ran into the back of the truck in front because it suddenly stopped. The next thing that happened was an AK was pointing at her, and the man behind it, speaking broken English, ordered Alice out. There was shooting and yelling up front. It looked like the enemy had gotten the drop on them.

And many of those behind Alice in the convoy were captured too. As soon as the man holding the gun on her seemed a little distracted, she dropped to her belly, rolling under the truck and out the other side. She looked around a little before jumping to her feet and running, then dropped to roll under another truck. As she rolled to her feet on the other side of the vehicle, her left breast struck a frame member and the pain was like getting kicked in the balls. Yeah, she knew how both felt because she had transitioned MtF in College. The job climate was so bad that she had to go into the Military almost right away. Officially, discrimination between men and women was outlawed, and especially with so called T folk, but they seemed to just love putting pseudo women to the test. So, she got Artillery, and as soon as they saw her in Afghanistan, they put Alice over in headquarters on convoy duty, where she’d likely die in the first week.

As the pain eased, she ran for it. Knowing that there was no civilization behind her, she tried to work her way around the chaos, and toward the village they’d passed along the way. Her scarf might gain her a little safety, but she needed to get her uniform covered as soon as possible or she’d be dead. One of those blue Burqas would be the best maybe. The Geneva convention only worked when both sides observed it.

It seemed a miracle that an hour or two later, she made it to the outskirts of a village, the weather having cleared some, she found a partially collapsed home and ducked inside. That is where she found Abda and as soon as she saw Alice, she became very excited and hugged her but then insisted that Alice put on a Burqa. After listening to her a while, Private Brown began to understand a few words in the language and vowed that if she ever got out of this, to look up her language teacher and tell them how lousy they were at teaching the Afghan language.

The two had been keeping quiet in the half-collapsed stone and mud hut when they heard shouting and some shooting. Peeking out the doorway, they fearfully watched the enemy marching some of our troops into the village. As they came on, Abda led Alice out through a hole in the back wall and out into a grain field. They snuck along for a while but then one of the enemy sighted us and began yelling; running after us. Survival was unlikely, but despite the cold weather, they ducked into a flooded ditch to try to hide. He immediately walked right up to them, ordering the women out.

He marched both women into a hut that was occupied by several other women and children. Inside, he spotted Alice’s military boots and immediately stripped off her Burqa. “Infidel woman, I will have you before I cut your neck”. His smile was sickening.

Alice was already confused due to Hypothermia.

He stepped outside, while still watching them and shouted something to another fighter.

In the back of her terrorized mind, Alice dimly listened to a dull thrumming that she’d heard before, but could not place.

The man was no longer alone when he came back in. “Remove your cloths”, He said to Alice in heavily accented English. Considering the circumstances, Alice did not feel that cooperative, in spite of her foggy mental state, so decided to try to escape. She stood up as if to undress and then punched the guy square in the face, forgetting all her killing punches to the nose or to the throat. He went down but before she could get to the door, the other fighter hit her on the head with his AK-47.

She wakened to find that her pants were partially gone, around her ankles, and she was face down, with her rear in the air, on the dirt floor of the mud building. Her hands were now tied behind her, and the man had just mounted her, painfully probing at her sex. “Well, at least I will die a real woman, I guess”, She dimly thought to herself.

As consciousness left her, the distant thrumming was much nearer, and then were slow “pops” from the armament, she supposed. As she drifted off, she realized that she was hearing the Raptor IV and those silly pops were the new doomsday weapon.

“Well, at least I’ll get a proper burial”, was her last thought.

Later, as soldiers were picking up their wounded, they found Alice, still with the Afghan on top of her. She was bleeding heavily from her vagina, a serious looking neck wound and another wound on the side of her head. At first the medic thought she was dead, but his life sign unit said that was not so.

“Here, help me get this asshole off her and get her into the “V”. Maybe we can save her”.

Epilogue.

The IV hooked to her arm was jokingly said to "make a broom handle sprout". With short stops at her base, Germany, and finally the US, she was finally in the OR, to repair her wounds as much as possible. In Alice's case, that meant healing her neck wound, and a brand new 3D printed set of fully functional female organs.

Three months later, a smiling Alice walked out of the hospital, having survived her first period. She felt empowered to have the real thing in her but felt very unsure that she would have chosen to have menses. She wasn't so sure that the menses weren't a bit of revenge on the part of the woman who invented the printed versions of the organs and made them work, um "fully".

A year and a half later, Private, now Lieutenant Alice Brown piloted her V-22 VI into a different village in Afghanistan to provide relief to an area greatly damaged by a 9.0 Quake. The war was effectively ended while Alice was still in training, but even so, the weapons in her aircraft were HOT, and would remain so even when they were on the ground. The equipment had already ALERTED twice on livestock on the way in.

It seemed odd to see both Russian and Chinese soldiers working alongside Western medical troops trying to find survivors. The full story was not out yet but the arrival of an emissary at the UN from an unknown place seemed to have the world quivering ...

The end.

The Stranger

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Non-Transgender

Character Age:

Mature / Thirty+

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

The Stranger

Gwen Brown

“Are you an author or professor or something?” she timidly asked. Credence had ridden on the elevator with him a dozen times and increasingly wondered about him. He seemed so dignified? What was this magnetism she felt for him? Maybe he was dangerous to her, could perhaps hurt her, take advantage of her or even kill her? Why did he never come to the potlucks? He was civil, even friendly to her but it had never gone beyond the usual pleasantries and a sentence or two.

His look of amusement caused her to feel like a child. “I’m or something.” He said.

He was aging but looked as if he could still be dangerous. She never saw him doing anything but leaving or arriving. From where had he come? Where was he going?

He had a fleshy, rugged face that caused her to wonder if he was a warrior or of a professor? What did he teach? Credence wondered how he would sound reciting Shakespeare, or explaining relativity, or Tax Law. Surely he was not a janitor? Would it matter if she found him with a floor polisher in his powerful looking hands?

His beard was shaggy and untrimmed and his salt and pepper hair made him look like some fierce Warrior! What would she do if he knocked down her door and took her in his arms? Her lurid fantasy caused her to quiver momentarily and then Credence guiltily tried to conceal the frission of sensation that swept through her. She knew it was futile because when it passed she had to take two steps back to regain her balance. How humiliating!

Completely scandalized, Credence fled toward her apartment as soon as the elevator door opened. She fumbled with the key, dropping it, clattering onto the stone floor twice before she got it in the lock and gained entry to her tiny dwelling. Her back against the closed door, Credence felt so silly! “How will I ever face him again?” She asked herself.

Credence was completely in the thrall of her discomfiture, when there came a knock to the door. It was so unexpected, that she screamed outrageously! She turned and almost fell on her own purse that she had dropped on the floor when she came in.

“Oh dear, what shall I do now?” She nervously asked herself. “What if it is him? Looking into the view port, she could see an eye looking in!” Oh, dear, it was him! Feeling completely resigned, Credence opened the door. “Here, you dropped your package in the elevator.” He said as he smiled at her. He handed her the discarded package and turning walked to his own door. He did not fumble with the key, and entered, closing the door behind him.

Later, after sitting at her vanity, she calmed. Her life seemed more normal now. Credence walked into the kitchen and seeing her package opened it. The toothpaste and soap were there. She almost did not notice the small card lying in the bottom of the sack. Credence set the sack back on the counter, and set about pouring herself three fingers of something stiff. She’d not look in the sack until she was sufficiently fortified.

They Sometimes Kill Children Don't They

Author:

Gwen Brown

Caution:

Audience Rating:

Restricted Audience (r)

Publication:

Novel Chapter

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Toddler

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

They Sometimes Kill Children Don’t They

Gwen Brown

Ch. 1

I’ve tried very hard to write this before but it was far too painful. Just so you know, I am going to post this and go to bed, no drama, so please, nobody worries, OK? Zoe Taylor’s, “Boys Don’t Cry” inspired this. It is only a vignette, this time, I intend to publish this irregularly until it is complete and then to publish it publicly.

This story is absolutely true. There is not one iota of embellishment in it.

This is not for the faint of heart or those who are easily triggered. You are warned.

She’d been sitting quietly with the family around the puffing wood stove. The rest of the rooms in the un-insulated 1860’s shack were chilled to the point that water in a glass would sometimes freeze at night, but this room was quite pleasantly warm, and in fact so warm that she’d actually lain on the worn, bare unfinished wooden floor in front of the stove to get out of the heat for a while.

The old house on rural farm land in the Willamette Valley, Ladd Hill, Oregon had no inside plumbing save one cold water faucet that ran into a sink that drained through the wall and out to the grassy area at the side of the crude wood structure. It had been built of pine poles with the bark still on them, and sided with still barked, wood “half rounds” from some mill. The “half rounds” weren’t really half a log but the rounded section on the edge of a log that the saw cut off before they began to cut dimensional lumber. There was an outhouse in the back yard for sanitary needs, and once a week baths were given in a washtub in the primitive kitchen; the water heated on the wood cook stove.

Lying there, she’d looked up at the clouds of cigarette smoke that hung stratified at different levels in the room. It looked so surreal, and in the very early 50’s no one had any idea that the smoke could be harmful to anyone.

Cooled somewhat, she got up and sat back down in the chair next to Sis. The conversation drifted from how much the over fired wood stove was shaking, to how much easier it was to use the tractor her brothers had purchased to run the huge buzz saw to cut the fire wood instead the two man cross cut saw, and then on to how the boys wanted to rig the horse plow to the tractor so they would not have to use the horse to pull it.

Her illiterate Amish step father was telling her big brothers that the horse was the better way to plow; pointedly letting them know it was how men folk did it. To her, he was really stupid because he’d angrily told her that she was a boy and not a girl like mommy and sis. Her stepfather had been raised in an extremely abusive house hold near Lancaster, PA. So he knew all about living simple and how children were seen, but not heard.

At the time she did not know that he’d soon beat her half to death again, this time telling her, you will act like a boy or I will kill you. He’d repeat the same speech several times in the coming years every time she let her true nature out too much, it would happen again. Most other nights of the week, he’d look her up as soon as he got home from work and start yelling at her for not getting some chore done the way he wanted it, then she’d hear the slap of his belt as he took it off. She’d stand there quaking; knowing he would beat her mercilessly despite her most impassioned pleas to not hurt her. Then, when he’d finish, rather than let her weep until she could stop, he’d angrily tell her, “God damn you, stop crying or I’ll give you a reason to cry, you little son of a bitch”. So, she’d sniff, and try to stop shuddering, all the while he looked at her. “God damn you little fucking sissy, pull that lip in you little shit”.

Eventually, he’d leave her alone if she was quiet enough and then she could sneak off to her bed to hide. She’d quietly begin to sob again, being oh so careful so that he could not hear. Once she’d gotten too loud and he pulled her out of bed to beat her again. After that, she worked very hard to conceal her emotions; something very hard for a 5 year old.

She was extremely afraid of him because the first time she met him, it was back in San Diego. She’d been playing in her room and suddenly she could hear this new man that she’d never seen before and mommy arguing, “But Cliff, Gwen is just a baby, don’t hurt her.”

“God damn it Lucille, Gwen is a boy and I am gonna fix that long hair right now”!

They fought back and forth for quite a while and then mom starting crying and screaming, really frightening her.

He’d stomped into the room, grabbed her by the arm, and tore off her little dress, leaving only her panties. His rough handling, loud cursing and threats made little Gwen begin to quake in fear. He got these hand operated clippers, which were dull and began to cut her hair off so that it was very uneven and almost scalp length. The clippers painfully pulled, making her scream in pain. So, he’d alternately hit her with his open hand and then cut some more hair. When it was done, she was nearly bald, and so shaken that mom took her into the bath room to wash off the hair, put a fresh diaper on her and put her to bed with a bottle.

Gwen sat there looking around the room at her three big brothers and Cliff, her stepfather. ‘I’m not like them. They are so mean to me.’

Then she looked at her step sister and mom. ‘No, I want to be like them. I hate the mean ones.

With that, she got up and went into Gloria Jean’s room. Seeing her skirt on the back of a chair, she put it on. It was so long that she had to pull the waist band up under her arms. Then, she walked back into the front room with the family and sat down by her mom. Now she’d made herself more like the girls, not the men. She hated the men. They were always so mean.

It was really quiet when she sat down by mommy.

“Mom, Gwen has my skirt on”. Gloria shouted in indignation.

“Gwen, go take Gloria’s skirt off right now”. Mom said.

Gwen’s step father just had to get into the act too. “God damn you little shit, what the fuck are you doing? You want to be a girl”? He shouted.

Still not getting it, Gwen said, “Yes, I want to be like mommy and Gloria”.

“OK, God Damn you, I will make you a girl.” Confused, Gwen looked at him innocently.

Even as young as she was, Gwen knew that he was mad and was going to hurt her really badly this time. He grabbed one of his sweat shirts and put it on her after Gloria had taken her skirt back. Then he began to taunt her; making fun of her, ridiculing her. Gwen began to cry; mom remaining silent. Everyone else in the family was silent too because none of them wanted to be his next target.

“God damn you, you little sissy, shut the fuck up or I’ll give you a reason to cry!”

She eventually stopped crying, and it terrified her to be sniffing deeply once in a while. She was unable to control that.

To this day, it is one of the ways she knows that she is upset. She’s so adept at hiding her feelings, even from herself, that she’d never know it were it not for the uncontrollable sigh that escapes then. It is very hard to dig around in her own head, find the feelings and console herself. No one else is there.

Around 1959, the family moved from Ladd Hill into Portland because her stepfather had a double hernia from straining too much while using a horse drawn earth scoop to dig out the hole for the foundation of their new house.

The previous one had burned down several months ago. The cause was an old belt drive refrigerator whose belt had started squeaking and to stop that, Cliff the stepfather, had oiled it. Later the oil ignited and the flames rapidly spread to the house, and the wood with pine pitch all over it went up like a torch. The house was a small pile of ash in less than 5 minutes.

She had been the last one to escape it, and probably only survived because she was too short to reach the superheated layer of smoke above her head. When she did awaken, it was dark, the lights were off, it was hot and she could hear both the roar of the fire and indistinct hysterical shouting. Becoming frightened herself, little Gwen screamed for Mommy several times before anyone heard her. No one could find her, not believing that she could still be in the house. Finally, Mommy came up on the porch, close to the raging inferno, and coached Gwen to the front door. At first she went to the wrong side of the door and got pinned to the wall when Mommy opened it, but in a moment, she could feel Mommy’s hand reach around the door and grab her tiny arm.

Mommy rushed her off the Porch and as they reached the ground, the porch and the rest of the primitive structure collapsed literally at their heels. Mommy quickly took her out to their 1947 Chevrolet Sedan and put her in, admonishing her firmly to remain in the car.

A few minutes after the house was just a shallow pile of ash, the rural fire department arrived. Far too late to do any good, they did not even take hoses off their trucks.

To Be Continued

They Sometimes Kill Children Don't They Ch 2

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

Fiction

Genre:

Transgender

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Sometimes They Kill Children Don’t They

Gwen Boucher

Ch. 2

As She stood on the back seat looking out the back window of the car, watching her home burn to the ground, little Gwen felt really sad, and missed the days in her old home somewhere else. As she grew, she’d find out that her old home had been in San Diego, California, where she was born. She missed the warm sunny days, and the soft, pretty dresses that Mommy used to dress her in until the mean man came into her life.

After that, he angrily cut her pretty hair, took away her lovely dresses, called her a boy, and beat her if she cried. What was happening lay outside the understanding of a 5 year old.
Life after that was joyless and sober. One thing was for certain. Almost every night as he drove up the ½ mile long driveway, she knew that a beating was coming. Stepfather was raised in an Amish family, and was so severely beaten by his father, that one night he ran away to his grandfather’s home. From comments she heard from him from him in subsequent years revealed that his grandfather was nearly as bad as his father.

Stepfather was born in 1913. In WWII he served as the driver of an amphibious landing craft in the South Pacific. Somehow, he did not go into the Navy until near the end of WWII.

I was born in March of 1947 and met him some time in the late fall of 1949. That is when he cut my hair and took my nice clothing. He wanted to make me a man, and in actuality it never worked very well. I remained very small through my High School Years, not weighing over 100lbs and quite short until I was in my Senior Year. He tried to make me a Man, but it just was not there.

With the constant beatings and berating by my stepfather, I simply gave up in school; knowing that if I made D’s and a couple of C’s, I could squeeze by. There was no concentrating on homework with all the tension and the oppressive atmosphere. I graduated 3rd from the bottom of my class with a 1.95 GPA. You could say I was shat out by the American educational system; ignored, without value, to be gotten out of the way. I would not understand until years later, that this injustice would fill me with sufficient rage to help me to succeed in spite of them. For the rest of my life, it would always be a subtle fight against “them”.

Around 1961 I was having a lot of burning in my eyes and begged my Mom to take me to the Doctor. I simply did not understand the financial pressure she was under and argued with her. She threw a beer bottle at me, hitting me in the right eye. We were both out of control emotionally, and I ran out the door to leave home. My memory of the incident is foggy, and somehow she ran over my bike to keep me from leaving. Head strong, I left anyhow and went down to a friend’s house to spend the night.

The next day, I appealed to the school counselor for help and he called the police and child welfare people, who placed me in a temporary juvenile detention home. The girls were housed in the upper floor of an old house, and the boys were in a long low structure that had been a chicken barn. It did not smell of chickens but the coarse screens were still over the windows, and glass had been placed inside.

I don’t remember a lot of detail about the days I spent there. At night, I learned that there are things that are more painful and degrading than being beaten half to death. I only remember the pain and blood next morning. The rest is concealed behind a veil of horror.

When the time came for the counselors and my mother to meet, she was so angry that she completely cowed them. I was given an ultimatum to get in the car, and since the counselors were silent, I did it. For the next two years, I was grounded and allowed to only go to school, come home and be in my room, only coming out for meals. There were no friends, phone calls or outside activities. I learned that the only way to survive was to be absolutely compliant, no matter what I thought. The time spent reading and day dreaming was isolating but not painful. I developed Passive Aggressive personality traits that I fight to this day.

In looking back, I must have “forgotten” about wanting to be a girl in the active sense very soon after that beating in the family room. I must have been around 5 or 6. Oh, when I secretly played games and daydreamed, “Gwen” was very much there deeply hidden in my heart. I have often wondered what it would have been like with a family where the siblings did not hate each other, where Father loved me and where Mother was not distant.

In looking back, Mother suffered unspeakable abuse by her Father. Her abuse was made worse because he was a lay pastor at church, but would go out and get drunk on Friday night. I do not know the exact nature of her abuse, but from hearing her occasional comments, one can only imagine. My stepfather did also at the hands of a stern Amish family near Lancaster, PA. Years after he grew up, he tried to have an Amish farm with us. He did not attend church, and was violent, especially toward me. So, much of what he taught lacked any credibility with me or them. My 6 siblings and I all tried to understand why he singled me out.

He beat and abused me nearly every night from the time I was 4 until around 15 when he came after me, and I picked up the hatchet to defend myself. He of course knowing how to fight took it from me and got ready to beat me. “You will have to sleep sometime”, I told him. It was the first time I ever stood up to him and that seemed to shock him. He did not beat me that night nor after.

They Kill Children Don't They Chapter 3

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Transitioning

Other Keywords:

True story

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Chapter 3

Gwen Boucher

"Brown"

This is a true story, but does not include violence and trauma

So, by the time I was in my late adolescence, I had somehow submerged Gwen the girl, just to survive and think that I completely forgot about her for the next 20 or so years.

I finally did graduate High School in 1965, and was promptly thrown out of my parents’ home. It was fortunate that I was also a volunteer fire fighter, and was allowed to live at the Fire Department until I had to go into the Army during Vietnam. (66-69). In the meantime, I met a girl who I soon found out was being verbally abused by her Father, physically abused by her Mother and molested by her two step brothers. She was very nice and we hit it off, often commiserating about our experiences growing up. By March of 66, I knew I was going into the Army because of the draft, and could not face leaving her in the hell she was in, so with special permission of a Judge we married.

After the 16 weeks of training, I was assigned to Ft Wainwright, Alaska, just outside Fairbanks, and was able to bring her there to live with me. She had by that time turned 16 and was able to work in the Ski Shop while I did my assignment as Military Police (Mostly in the office, since it was deemed that I was too small to be a proper Policeman.). After a year and a half in Alaska, I was then assigned to Ft Sill, Oklahoma, where I served out my last 11 months. Our son, Scott was born in September 1967 and we drove from Fairbanks, to Portland in February of 1968. The trip, while it seemed a great adventure to us, was uneventful save for one service station attendant trying to put Diesel in our car. We were fortunate because in Fairbanks we’d had a couple of weeks of -40 F, but the morning we left, it warmed up to -25. According to locals, that was nearly the ideal winter temperature because it was not excessively cold, but it was cold enough that the ice was not very slick. The day before a snow storm had come through, so we basically drove the roads right after the plow cleared them with no ruts.

After discharge from the Army, I got a job working as a Pesticide Sprayer and tree pruner, while I attended College. I hated that job but it helped support the family. By then we had a son, Scott (Sept 6, 1967) and a Daughter (March 3, 1969).

In 1974(?), I was able to secure a job at a local saw chain manufacturing plant and remained there 20 years. It provided a steady income and I learned a lot. During that time, in the early 80’s I could not shake my depression. At the time, I did not even remember what would cause that depression. I wound up in a group called “Survivors of childhood sexual abuse”. It was then that memories of my childhood started to surface. There has been discussion about patients picking up false memories in these situations, and if someone wants to discuss that, please leave me out of it.

Along about that time, Kaiser put me on Haldol 200 mg/day. In looking at present day dosages of the drug, 200 mg seems very high, and records from Kaiser can be secured to confirm that. The Drug definitely levelled things out but I realized after I took it for 2 years, life was still very messed up, so I stopped taking it.

My first experience at being diagnosed as transgendered (GID) happened around 1984. The woman first said I was co-dependent with my wife. Later she said she thought I had multiple personality disorder. Later she said I was transgendered and needed to start living as a woman. 30 years later, I realize I just hated men and being one of the enemy.

The diagnosis was so shocking, that when my wife and I talked later, we re-iterated our love for each other, and then she said that though she loved me, she could not live with me if I were a woman. This whole transgender business was completely new to us and was quite shocking. As we talked, we felt that what I had was daemon persecution and we agreed to pray that away. (I was not then and never have had a homosexual experience) I was never unfaithful to my wife and have never had penetrative intercourse with anyone but her.

So, after that, we worked very hard to stay married, and be loving and faithful to one another for another 20 years. Along the way I encountered many types of counsellors, most of whom wanted me on medications of some sort, and I mostly refused to take anything, believing that it would be better to squarely face my problems and solve them. I worked very hard to ignore my issues, choosing to bury myself in service, and recreation instead.

I left the manufacturing plant in 1992, and worked for various Electrical Contractors as an Electrician until being hired at Hillsboro, Oregon as the City Electrician in 1996 (?). In 1998 Hurricane Mitch struck Honduras, and my wife went down there twice as an RN to work in disaster relief soon after. I went down there in 1999 and 2000 to work in damage abatement for a total of 5 weeks. Then in rapid succession she went to Bosnia and Mozambique with NW Medical Teams. In April of 2001, we both went to Kenya as temporary missionaries (3 weeks) and then on to Israel for 10 days.

Bosnia was very hard for both of us because in Scoder, where they were staying, the hotel across the street had a bomb go off. She was really shook up, and I perhaps was not taking it any better than her.

I came home from Kenya absolutely shattered and did not know it. Conditions for the people living around Nyeri and Nanuki were so much worse than for those living in Honduras. ¾ of the people in that area were dead from AIDS. It was completely heart breaking. We vowed to send money to the people in Kenya but I have to say that it is nearly impossible without paying so many fees that the people who do it get only a fraction of what we sent. We eventually gave up.

We got home in April and in September came the 9/11 attack. In just a month after, the situation at work went from a relaxed, cooperative atmosphere to a tense 4th Reich feeling nightmare. In my work as the City Electrician, I had business contact with City, County, State, and Federal employees. Suddenly, the atmosphere was full of mistrust, illegal government activities, and security clearances. I once left the FBI sitting in the cold late at night because the furnace was in a room that I no longer had authorization to enter. And, the situation only got worse. One city man involved in the illegal wire taps was eventually fired.

Eventually, I simply had a nervous breakdown (colloquial term)., characterized by disassociation, depression, and lack of sleep. It was during that time that they put me on Celexa, Welbutrin and Trazidone in what are today considered massive doses. The effect of this medication was to actually exacerbate the depression and to completely dis-inhibit my mind from dealing with lifelong issues any longer.

In those days, GID was a legal diagnosis that carried the stigma of being disabling, but in 2014 it is no longer seen that way. By now, it had been 10 or more years since I had been told I had GID, and who was I not to believe the Doctors?

I mistakenly interpreted my hatred of men and my being one as actually having Gender Identity Disorder, and in my clouded mental state, due to the psych meds, began to move toward changing genders. And, there are just lots of people, supposedly professionals, around that saw me as being transgendered. There were no gate keepers. This situation had been slowly developing since the mid 80’s and now in 2014, I have no idea if any of what I was being told is correct.

By 1990, secretly nursing my feminine feelings, I was no longer wearing any male clothing, having secured androgynous looking female clothing for use at work and this situation slowly progressed as my mind became less and less effective at dealing with what I now know to be past trauma.

I continued to “impersonate” a male through the 90’s and later, though felt that I was female and seem to have unconsciously slowly started adopting female mannerisms and deportment, and felt very conflicted. I was in effect living two lives; a very male one as an Electrician, with the family, and in the larger community. When alone, I was female. Much to my utter dismay, this increasingly led to female masturbatory fantasies that produced so much guilt and revulsion that I began to plot personal castration though working it all out would take years. I had seen videos of self-castrations on YouTube and felt I could do the task albeit being a bit dangerous. In those days I was in a great deal of pain, so had copious amounts of Vicodin and Motrin around.
As I think I said before but an not going to go back and look it up, post 9/11 after my wall banging nervous breakdown, I was put on one drug after another Starting with Welbutrin, then Celexa, and finally Trazidone in such doses as I was legally intoxicated as the present laws of Oregon now reflect.

During October of 2004, it all began to work out, but new to my situation, due to the drugs I was increasingly suicidal. By happenstance, in late November I found a Urologist that would castrate me for $1000 and I planned to do it in April. At this point in my life, the purpose of the castration would have been to stop the sin of masturbation, not to begin to live as a woman. No matter my personal feelings of being a woman, I had three children and a wife whom at the time I thought was faithful, though later I would find that in error. Fate was to intervene and change my plans as “No Plan Survives Contact with the Enemy”.

I had gotten sufficiently suicidal that I called a Kaiser help line, and the woman almost immediately called the Police and the officers that showed up at the door were friends of mine. Gah !! What followed was a week in the psych ward involuntarily, and they gave me a shot in the Butt that made me spill my guts about everything. This was pre-Hippa, so they ran out and told the whole family and the Milk man.

I had been attending a Fundamentalist church and they trashed me faster than the speed of light.
I am feeling crazy now so will publish this and begin to work on the final chapter when I feel able.

Trapped

Author:

Gwen Brown

Caution:

CAUTION

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Transformations

TG Elements:

Appliances Attached

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Trapped

He was 5’11” and 245 pounds, with a full head of brown hair. He had three charges of Domestic Abuse against him and had drunkenly slept with several women, two of whom had pending charges of rape against him. In short, he was not a model citizen. One night in the local bar, the brother of one of the women he’d raped, slipped a tiny pill into his drink while he wasn’t looking. Frank’s life was about to change dramatically.

Nancy’s brother, her twin had always been very protective of her and though they’d both thought of it, there had never been any incest. They both dreamed of having families but not illegal ones. It was heart breaking and enraging for John to hear from Nancy that one of the local trash had raped her on the way to her car after she got off work at the local clothing store. The police tracked Frank down and he insisted that she came on to him, an accusation that she denied, and the police did not believe, considering his record, but it was her word against his. No charges were filed.

The twins Uncle John heard of the incident and knew someone who was looking for a body organ donor for medical research. He knew that rapists seldom reformed. The traffickers would become rich. Frank would disappear and not even DNA evidence would be left. Frank’s 245-pound body was a lot to handle but the individuals transporting this deeply unconscious male managed. They met another unmarked Stretch van in a dark alley and the transfer was over in moments. The delivering van’s owners returned to delivering produce. The other van had been taken from a wrecking yard and ran on a false registration.

Investigators had thought that he would be taken to Mexico for organ harvest, but actually he was not even taken out of the country. He went to a seemingly abandoned mansion south of Cleveland, Ohio near Mentor, less than 50 miles from his home. No one was looking for Frank, and those that he had harmed were mostly just happy that he was gone.

In the building’s second floor, Frank, now considered a cadaver, was hooked to an IV that would hold him essentially comatose. Eventually, there would be a death certificate in absentea despite the lack of a body. No one would look for him. The mansion was listed as unoccupied, and there were no public records to show it was. There was no water meter, it was on a domestic well; the sewage went into a huge domestic sanitation system and then the outflow went into a small river. There was no record of electricity use because of an almost silent generator in the basement. The only record of their presence would have been for diesel but the bill for fuel and servicing was paid in cash with a generous security bonus for keeping the matter confidential.

It took months of liposuction and other methods, but the researcher eventually got Frank down to 134-pounds. The suctioned fat was stored and would keep for years if needed. Despite the challenges, frank would make a marvellous woman. Using the surgeon’s considerable skills, she would be quite pretty, even model like. She would have no recollection of her past life or offenses. Using her new birth certificate and records, no one would be searching for him, even due to legal obligations.

There was little evidence of gender change surgery, and that could easily be interpreted differently. The female organs, breast tissue and other organs came from a genetically similar female cadaver. The factor that made it all seem credible was the implants now situated in various parts of the brain insured a female persona, though she would never be aware of the fact. An implanted substance was used to prevent tissue rejection for some time, perhaps two decades.

The best she could now hope for was to not have to endure rape herself. Meanwhile the medical researcher was pleased with his creation.

Even with the best plastic surgery, the body seeks to return to its original form but that usually takes a decade or more if one does not engage in self-destructive practices. Would she meet someone and eventually have a family? It would be abundantly unjust punishment for her body modifications to begin to fall apart in the middle of raising her children. With that in mind, her ovaries carried no viable eggs. She would bear the pain of being baren.

XXXXXX

There was so much that his enemies and the medical researcher did not know about their project. Their projected amnesia did not happen. It all seemed like a horror story to her.

“What have you done to me?” She frantically exclaimed. She? She? Her emotions were so strong, so much more than she had ever expected. Is this what real women felt? He’d secretly spent years saving to have GRS, but no one had ever told her that her life would be so strongly changed. This was much more mind numbing than she ever expected. Her feelings and emotions threatened to rob her of her sanity.

Gradually becoming more aware of her surroundings, she grew increasingly alarmed. This was so very much more than He’d ever experienced in life before. Was someone performing a cruel joke on her? Those who’d helped him arrange for the surgery appointments never said anything about this. She didn't know that none of those who had hated his old self did not know of his secret life. It was too well concealed. Sad, so sad.

Trophy Wife Super Short Version

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

Short-short < 500 words

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Accidental

Other Keywords:

Short Circuited

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Trophy Wife
Gwen Boucher, 4/26/2024, 14:30

Dane Brown, a recent dual master’s graduate from Brown University had no idea what was to befall him. Being rather diminutive at 5’3”, and having never had a girlfriend, wasn’t even interested in girls and this suited his bookish nature perfectly. He had no reason to suspect that a bachelor multibillionaire, August Dire, was stalking him and had demented plans for Dane. August intended that Dane would never be intrusive again. “Keep your enemies close to you.”

Dane wakened lying on his back feeling almost chilled and naked. At first, he thought he might be blind. He was not restrained, and the soft surface of the bed helped. He didn’t know that his kidnapper kept the room dark and dank to facilitate the plan to transform his subject in a way that no one could ever have suspected. Besides, with his infrared goggles, he saw what was needed. His subject had become light sensitive during the transformation process, and the changes would cause the body to run a very high fever.

Having spent hours in a gas-filled chamber, his very DNA had radically altered. Dane, now Dana was, an over the top, woman who craved sex and had an enhanced body that might be too much for her brain. She had twice the nerve endings of a normal woman and was impossibly sensitive in the usual erogenous places. One touch to any of those places caused her to writhe with arousal. While awake she was very close to a sexual climax, and during sleep, her dreams were of constant intercourse. Her Ovaries were much larger than normal but had no eggs.

Dana now occupied the huge condominium of her abductor and creator. Her brain’s speech center was much smaller because he didn’t make her for her ability to speak. Her intelligence was much lower, though she still remembered College and her degrees, but that part of her life was essentially useless. Her thinking would be much slower, and she was now absolutely submissive. Physically, she looked like an exaggerated Caricature of a really beautiful woman multiplied by ten. Her large, wide set, absolutely blue eyes complemented her tiny nose and diminutive lips. They were still large enough to accommodate her kidnapper’s ding a ling.

August watched Dana move about the bedroom getting dressed. Then she looked back at him,” Oh baby baby, I know how you wanna do me. Kiss me baby one more time.” Her lovely, bouncy hips quivered as she gyrated. “I wanna do your ding a ling.”

He looked at Dana, “You’ve made me a man of constant sorrow.” August was mesmerized as smoke started to drift from the implants in her ears…

Visitors

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Intersex

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

11-8-2021

Visitors

A Story About Gwen Brown by Gwen Boucher

A BS in History from the local University was not much in demand, good jobs were scarce and finally I was reduced to serving Breakfast and Lunch in a homestyle Café, wearing a black short, pleated skirt and blouse, and dancing in a dump called The Devil’s Inn. No one said it was a strip joint, but I soon found out that the more I took off, the bigger the tips. I drew the line at my panties. School loans, rent and the payments for a car that didn’t run was killing me. Now my pretty blue car sat on blocks in the street and the real leatherette interior was trashed by animals. Thieves had stolen my tires, wheels, and all. I still had my 24 speed Bicycle, which I took into my apartment when I was not riding it, and truthfully, if the weather was decent, it was perhaps as good as a car in town. I finally found a seat that did not make me sore. I could often get where I was going faster than a car, even before the Aliens came. After they showed up, commerce dwindled, and I stopped doing frivolous rental car trips. The streets were nearly vacant so I could just zip along on my bike, and it kept me in very good shape.

Then, my mom’s brother, Uncle Fred, who I had barely known left me a huge inheritance and I found that I could live off the interest if I was frugal. My parents were gone from the Covid Virus. At times it feels like I’ll never get over it. Mom and I were very close, and she comforted me so much when the other kids were mean. I wondered if the Banks would fail, and I would lose everything?

I would not miss stripping, though my exit was tearful because of the friendships I had formed with some of the other girls and servers. I was careful not to reveal the reason for my leaving. The management didn’t offer me more to stay, so I wondered if it was because I was not very good as a stripper?

America seemed on the verge of yet another war with China or someone, and that was discouraging. The International big money guys did not mind sacrificing the young as soldiers for profit, and wars meant lots of income from manufacturing. Being the middle of the 21st century I had expected more from humanity.

I was born essentially sexless so started female hormones when I was 9, against the wishes of my doctors. They felt that it was too early. I’d found a Medical School flunk out who knew enough endocrinology to get me what I wanted. There was no way to be a functional male, so female it was. It was a good choice. That did nothing for the progressive deafness, so eventually I was alone inside my head until they put cochlear implants in both ears. They were rechargeable, so the Doctors slit my scalp ear to ear, put little wires in and a coil for recharging. They put my hair back and at night I had a little cap on my head with a coil that recharged me. The charge usually lasted all day.

There would be no children and I felt cheated but eventually had to learn to live with it. Having no Vagina, I was smooth aside from a Urethra. I was told that I was very pretty, but I was not sexually attracted to anyone, except I was just very lonely. Anal sex was repulsive to me so eventually I became adept at Head Jobs. Still, it seemed that my dates always demanded penetrative intercourse and I had black eyes and bruises to prove my objection to the idea. I’d done Martial Arts as a youngster and got so adept that my instructors warned me that I could easily kill an assailant, so for a long time I didn’t use it until I’d absorbed some punishment from disappointed lovers. Finally, I gave up dating, even with Lesbians. The years following were so lonely. Long rides on my bike provided enough radical distraction to control depression and I stayed in great shape.

One evening I was out on a long night ride and admiring the nearly full Moon when something seemed to cross over its face. It was just there a moment and was gone. I decided that it really was not there. In the morning, I was making coffee and watching the news before going on my usual walk. The screen blanked out for a moment and then came a text message. “We will no longer allow you to quarrel”. It stayed there for a while and then was gone. That completely disrupted the morning news routine. No one on the TV tried to explain what had happened.

There was no invasion that most of us knew of but gradually international hostilities ground to a halt. Their Spaceships seemed about three times larger than the moon appeared from Earth. The ships were impossible to miss. Some thought the Aliens would visit the World leaders, but no one ever seemed to have seen them or spoke of it, and there was nothing on the news. At any rate, wars ground to a halt, and slowly there was less violence and aggression around us. Technology advanced, and oddly we started to hear stories that the aliens were likely the visitors that were here thousands of years ago in places like Southern Iraq, Peru, Iran and possibly anywhere there were ancient ruins. We did not often see them that we knew of, and there was no suggestion that our beliefs and churches were now invalid. From my own reading and what I had heard, I started wondering if they were the ‘Gods’ of the Sumerians and before? Having watched countless documentaries on TV, I felt at least partially informed. I had always wondered if Melchizedek was one of them. The Biblical Character Abraham had several encounters with those who seemed God like. I decided to let the matter rest. If I was supposed to know more, they would tell me.

Though not immediately evident, the Aliens were tampering with human genetics. In a generation, differences in Homo Sapiens would be glaringly obvious. Previously males were statistically 14% larger than females and that would double, though the males would become gentle giants with genius level intelligence. Females’ size remained about the same, with little change in their nature, though they now had a strong desire to grow long hair and an aversion to bifurcated lower garments, something that seemed to please the males. Female intelligence increased but in subtle ways.

Years later it became clear that Earth was being made into a brooding planet because of a multi-galactic population crisis. For unknown reasons, many other civilizations on planets that we had not seen, were suffering from eventually cataclysmic low birth rates from declining fertility.

NASA, and others had previously been working hard, before the Aliens, to get into space more substantially and after they arrived, worked even harder. In a few years pioneers were embarking on ambitious expeditions. The technology that the space pioneers were using trickled down into our culture indirectly from the Aliens and one day I found a riding suit in a bike shop that was amazing. It was a thin, transparent soft Lycra like fabric that was rain proof, and a small power pack provided heat in cold weather and cooling when it was hot. I made sure to wear undergarments that were substantial to provide for modesty. The helmet was incorporated into it and did not fog, and rain did not obscure my vision. On me, it looked like a very sexy space suit. It had built in gloves and feet that fit right into my riding shoes.

Earth was increasingly becoming a garden planet. The roads were often nearly empty. Many people were staying home and peacefully gardening or building things. Billions of people left to colonize other planets. Children could once again play in the streets and much of the time walked to school.

One day I was out on a long ride expecting to travel 40 miles or more. The suit and new bike seat made it all really pleasurable. My bike was now electric assist, and on flat terrain, I could easily maintain 15 mph. Mostly I rode with on the lowest setting. If it got too hilly, there was always the very efficient electric assist. The tyres were a bit fat but still rolled quite easily.
I stopped along the way at a snack bar in front of a beautiful water fall and sat to eat on a bench near it. The Turkey sandwich and fruit drink were exactly right. A very handsome, brown haired, muscular man in biking kit asked if he could sit at the same table and I told him that I did not mind. He wore old style kit and admired mine and I think the sexy way I looked in it. If I had the means, I might have hoped it would develop into more. Being results oriented, I wanted to get on my way and achieve my goal for today and that also included the ride back home. I intended to run the assist on full on the way back. I lived in an apartment in a row of tall apartment houses, downtown, south side along the river.

As I was getting back on my bike for the run out to Cascade Locks, he told me, “We will not harm you. We are here to help and advance you and you will find your life changing”. What he said was confusing and at the time I did not know what he meant. The last 30 miles to my goal was so fun. The sun was out, and the winds were minimal. I ate again at a little drive-up restaurant on the road through a small town. After visiting the Loo, I was back on the road heading West, and somewhat tired. I set the Electric assist to high and my gear cassette in top gear. I could easily maintain 25 mph and was back in the city in under two hours. The ride over the high bridge and down toward my apartment was thrilling. After I wheeled my bike inside and put it on the charger, the shower was lovely.

I relaxed with a cup of heavily creamed Coffee and sweetened it with a bit of brown sugar. The news and weather were boring, so I decided to look at clothing. I had discovered long leg, wicking panties a while back, and wished that I could find a bra built the same way. Mainly I just wanted to stop my nipples showing. The girls were quite perky on their own. I was indeed surprised to find the sort of Bra I wanted, and it included silicon nipple covers. On one page was a dress that reminded me of what I had seen on the internet as 1950s clothing. The skirt was full and came with an attached crinoline with a shirt style top. I felt drawn to it. Then I saw a flowery, almost floor length Hutterite dress that had lots of walking room. I slept with it in my dreams.

It felt like I was coming out of a mental fog. The bed was rocking and so was I. It felt as if someone’s penis was in me, and pushing on the owner’s chest, I could not move him, and his penis seemed rooted in me. It didn’t hurt me, and I was dreamily mildly aroused. I could not see him, I seemed to be blindfolded. Gradually it became clear that there was no stopping what was happening. Who was this? “Just relax woman, you will be implanted soon, and you can return to your normal life”. His voice sounded like the man who had spoken to me at the Falls.

Sure of it now, I asked him if I could keep the baby, he was putting in me? He did not reply immediately. Later, when I was awake and had risen, I made myself coffee, and sat there at the table trying to unravel what had happened. When the Aliens arrived, most people expected them to march in and take over. Instead, I had dreams that showed my deepest desires.

Amazingly, I found a very sensitive set of female organs that now occupied where there were previously none. What about my dream? Had they ‘implanted’ me, or was it simply my vivid dreams? Later, it was clear that I was not pregnant, so what did he mean by implanting me?

I continued to ride daily, and window shopped after. It surprised me to find that my hips were becoming fuller, and there were distracting quivering’s in my lower abdomen at times. I did not go to a doctor because I was afraid of what he would tell me. One morning as I was putting my riding kit on, it seemed like I was becoming fuller in the rear. Out on the ride I came round a corner and was hit with sudden excruciating pain and fell hard on the pavement. My head hit hard, destroying my helmet, and I was out for I do not know how long.

I wakened to several people around me. I felt so humiliated I scrambled to my feet, but two women forced me back down. “I’m OK, I promise you. It was just an accident. I do not know what happened. I felt wet down below, and one of the women said, “Oh, she’s started her period”. A pickup stopped and it seemed that the man from a previous bike ride got out. How could he be here? Was he following me? He quickly put my bike in the back of his truck, and then guided me into the passenger side of his truck. “I know her. I’ll get her home and let her clean up”. He said reassuringly.

I was still feeling very muzzy, so was quite thankful for his help. I remembered him from the restaurant at the falls. “You keep showing up at the best times and I have dreamt about you. Are you going to tell me what is going on”? I asked. He just looked at me and smiled.

At home, he saw me into my apartment and then brought my bike up. I was busy in my shower, trying to get the blood out of my suit, and then I noticed that I now had what I would come to know as a functional Vagina, including menses. He found me sitting in my tub and weeping joyously. Despite my nakedness, he sat on the toilet lid and looked at me like a doctor would. Something passed between us, and I knew that my dream was being fulfilled. “Your promise not to hurt us was true then”? I asked

“Yes, we are here to help you move into multiple Galactic civilization, and before that can happen, certain genetic advancements must occur. Telepathy and Ocular improvement are two. Presently a consortium of Nations is guarding your planetary system until we do that. After you are made able to help in your defence, you will be expected to join the consortium to assist in the defence of others. Your ‘Earth’ as you call it has been nurtured for several hundred thousand of your years. We’ve visited in secret for a long time.

“Presently humans are far too aggressive and war like. Frankly, other civilizations near you are afraid to see you on the loose in this Galaxy. There was debate about exterminating you and starting over”. His words chilled me. There is considerable urgency to our efforts because if we fail, it will be the end of what you call Homo Sapiens.

My body continued to get ready for motherhood. I bought a sewing machine and learned to sew floor length dresses, preferring very flowery fabric with large, colourful floral scenes. I found that I could still ride my bike despite my dress because the sprockets and chain were all covered. The back wheel had an effective skirt guard. The bike suit stayed at home.

The next months and years were so exciting. Though I could not say that Ean became my mate, he was quite protective and nurturing. He always seemed to be there when I needed him. Eventually I bore six children, 4 girls and 2 boys. The girls, Chola, Manau, Sally, and Credence, were sweet, nurturing, and bossy. The boys, Terry and Nigel, were tall and handsome and protective. All my children had astonishing IQ numbers, and were home schooled, yet they found ways to mix with other children in the neighbourhood, playing games in the park. One of the girls became a Neurologist, and another studied History. Two of the girls married very bright men and stayed home with their children and those of their sisters.

After the children were grown up enough, Ean started to take me with him to visit their spaceships and later to a huge station out beyond Earth Lagrange point 2. It is there that I began to see and sometimes meet beings who were not homo sapiens. Once in a while we would meet space travellers leaving Earth to travel vast distances or returning from fantastic places.

Even traveling to those places, I was predisposed to long, pretty dresses. They became a sort of uniform for me. They did not seem to limit my motions in any way and were a sort of uniform. Occasionally, I sensed that I was being watched. Eventually, I felt suspicious about the same sort of groups that followed us. It was out there at the station that I began to sense that they were talking about me and what I was doing. I spoke to Ean about what I was feeling, and he told me that one of the reasons that we’d travelled this far was to see if my telepathy would begin to function in a useful way. “Telepathy is constantly used by other beings, and some of them are very strong users. It is seldom used on Earth because that population is not that far developed.

And that is how Earth joined the advanced races. It took a lot of caring, patient help. Dozens of other authors have written about the following centuries, and I am sure that avid readers know who they are. You thought they wrote fiction, didn’t you?

What a Dream!

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

EXTREMELY EXPLICIT

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Erotica

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Wishes

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

It’s 2054. I’d been out with our lady’s group on a pseudo off road ride on a trail up a 3400 meter mountain when we encountered an old slide area that seemed smooth enough but strewn with potato sized rocks on a rideable incline. My front wheel power was on my right hand and my rear wheel power on my left. I had not fallen yet, and my riding suit would protect me from injury if I did. My helmet still had enough power to keep my blood Ox levels up, so I felt confident that I could stay with the group.

Along the way we passed through a stopped professional male riding group, and I saw one man whose eyes locked on me, piercing me and making me feel weak from suddenly wanting him. We passed quickly and our group finished at the summit, going into the Inn up there for a light lunch before we descended back to the city.

Later that evening back at my home, he continued to haunt my mind, in that brief encounter with that very entrancing man, we had not even spoken. And now, after my shower, and soak in the hot tub came bed and a night of strangely lucid dreams. I wakened in the morning, oddly sore between my legs. One episode had featured my riding hard on a sort of tandem bike with me in front and him taking me from behind on the same trail, orgasming at the summit, near the Inn. He’d been mauling my breasts as he pounded me to a glorious vaginal experience not like anything I had ever felt while masturbating.

I laid there, on my side in bed listening to the swish, swish of my heart straining, as I remembered being at his mercy. The sex had been so rough in my dream that later, in the mirror, I had his handprints on my breasts and a collection of hickeys on my neck!

Oh my gosh, how could I dress normally for the office? My deeply plunging v crop top that was open almost to my braless navel, and my hip hugging, ankle length hobble skirt would advertise it all to my coworkers. What would I do when my boss would confront me during dictation? Would she clip my bracelets to my nipple rings and spank me through my diaphanous skirt? Wasn’t this all a dream? Where did the handprints on my breasts and those lewd hickeys come from?

I had stayed a virgin for marriage. Was that all gone? I knew that I would somehow endure the torment at the office. On the way home from work, I would buy a pregnancy test. Would I keep the baby? Would they let me?? Questions?

I had dated but there was no one in my life that I felt serious about. Would my child be reared in a creach baby nursery like so many? If a man offered to marry me, would he lawfully require me to stay at home? Willingly relinquishing my rights was part of present-day marriage. By law, marriage was permanent.

Wasn't this a dream?

Wishes (Edited)

Author:

Gwen Brown

Caution:

CAUTION: Sex / Sexual Scenes

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Erotica

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Elements:

CAUTION

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Wishes

Ammi stood there in the steamy bathroom, defogging the mirror with her blow dryer as she dried and fluffed her Hip length hair. When she finished, her locks were shoulder width; barely covering her modest breasts. Her completely nude slit peeking out below it. Her sex seemed to buzz with arousal.
She’d completely lost track of time. After she’d graduated High School, and signed the contract with the research University, her future since seemed like a fairy tale. In short, they required that she take a single capsule every morning that took the place of her birth control pill. She took it every day, not skipping certain days as with the other pills. She had no idea what was in the new capsules. In the contracted exchange she got full room and board, a free ride in a college of her choice, with a major of her choosing. College kept her busy, and after she got the required courses of the first year out of the way, she chose ancient history, not knowing that even that preference had been suggested.
Ammi had no idea what the capsule did. Among other things, were a mood stabilizer, something to make her suggestible, and an anti-depressant. She did not know that the woman that she met for coffee several times a month was deviously manipulating her to the best interests of the University. The woman, Jane, was the reason that Ammi did not cut her hair and caused her to wish that her breasts were twice their size. Jane had suggested that getting her labial hair lasered was very modern and sexy. Ammi wanted to be sexy despite the fact that there were no sexual partners, though wild sex toys and self-bondage were fine.
It seemed surreal to Ammi that she now had D cup breasts instead of B’s. There was no question of wearing a bra now, and her nipples were so sensitive and obvious all the time. The nipple sensitivity seemed to trigger her pussy to stay hot and wet. When she walked, she swayed so much. Pants were just irritating and seemed forbidden. Ammi found that a knee length full skirt was much more modest and helpfully concealed the sexy swaying of her hips.
She’d adjusted to her new slim waist after removal of two ribs, and a tummy tuck. In a radical new procedure, her hips and butt were now very pronounced and wide. It took a long time to get used to sitting on the additional padding.
In her quiet moments the size of her dildo was very large and satisfying. Ammi was not conscious that she’d become so much more sexual. By the time she finished her PhD. She’d go on trips in the spring and stay home as a wife the rest of the time. She owned one pair of very strange pants with a thickly padded crotch. She did not know that the crotch was impregnated with a chemical that made her sexually insatiable. Now, Ammi had developed a fetish for stockings and garter belt. Sometimes there would be a corset. Two corsets that she had were charming to wear exposed under a skirt. On cool days she could wear a flannel shirt or coat over it. This spring she felt almost compelled to wear her skirt so short that her stocking tops showed.

She now found that she could easily see to read, but no matter what she did, even with glasses, anything more than a dozen feet away was a hopeless blur. She lost her Driver’s license but due to her circumstances, could thankfully hire a car for everything that she needed. She could not help feeling helpless, yet privileged as was the objective of those whose contract she was under.
The larger breasts and other body enhancements took some getting used to, but Anni was managing. She’d taken to wearing very short, pleated skirts that showed off her stocking tops and her butt if she bent at her hips over too far.
In bed alone one night, Anni dreamt about how much emotional pain she felt from not having a companion. The dream was painful, and she longed for someone to hold her.
Ammi hadn’t yet encountered the latest pheromone modification so this morning, when it swept through her body, the drug caught her by surprise. That afternoon when her boyfriend came over, they talked and then necked, her body became more ready for sex, and she found herself more and more physically weak and submissive. After a surprisingly short love making session, Ammi found her arms limp, her legs widely spread and her pussy soaking wet. Tom had a time with her dress and panties and finally just tore the panties off her.
She couldn’t make a sound, feeling like she was gagged. When he ploughed into her, she found her hips rocking and her pussy milking him though her limbs seemed too weak to move. Who knows what the University would do next? Would he become the husband that she wanted so keenly? What would her children be like?

** Not sure where this is going. It might end here, or perhaps this is Chapter 1. Tired of fiddling with it. **
Published 12-2-2023 GB, edited 12-3-2023.

You Sit Crazy

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Character Age:

Mature / Thirty+

TG Elements:

Surgery

Other Keywords:

Product of too much chocolate cake.

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

You Sit Crazy

Gwen Brown

This story is the transcription of a dream that I had early this morning. It is likely the product of a demented mind, or perhaps it was too much chocolate cake? Almost all of this is from that dream. No, seriously.

I’d been sitting on the porch of an old three-story house that was built in 1908 enjoying a heavily flavored and iced Peach Schnapps. It was getting hard to find, so I was taking time to savor what I had. It was a lovely, sunny day with a temperature in the high 80’s. For you Brits, that’s around 30 and a half. Life had been quite peaceful after the fall of the Blonde Monkey’s government, though those who were left hadn’t bothered to form another yet and that had been 6 months ago. Somehow, he had managed to hang on nearly 20 years past his elected time. None of us understood how. Twitter had long since shut down. He’d declared war on North Korea, but everyone ignored him. The Russians had enough trouble of their own. A big meteorite had hit not far from Moscow and there were rumors that there were Aliens in it. The Russians wouldn’t let anyone in to see, but there was talk that they were all having a party.

Satellites can only tell you so much, no matter what outrageous lies they tell you. They could see a big groove in the earth and a pretty un-meteorite looking spacecraft sitting at the end of the ditch. Unfortunately, it had clipped some buildings on the way in and it was rumored that around 200 had died. The USGS Earthquake center indicated a quake at 2 on their instruments at the time of the impact.

With weed being legal in every state but Alabama, few seemed to have noticed, or even cared that this new Ganja was far more potent than kids had in the 60’s, plus there was a little somethinsomthin extra in it, the upshot being that no one that used the stuff had any thought of violence or mayhem. I’m not a user, never have been, and I don’t let the girls and their friends use it either because my fundi roots still kick in at times.

Me, I’m too old for it to matter at all, but for reasons that no one understands, I look like I’m in my early 50’s and act like I’m an 18-year-old party girl. So what, get over it. I feel good and plan to have fun until I feel the moldering dirt hit me in the face. Somehow, my retirement check keeps coming, though it is almost impossible to get gas. The Electricity had stopped a month ago, but the gas kept coming for heat, though the furnace wouldn’t go. I’d scrounged a couple of gas space heaters and that’s what we used. The water kept coming but we boiled any of it that we were going to drink or cook with. In our town, almost all of the city water was gravity fed, and didn’t need pumps in most sections.

The women I knew quickly figured out that not wearing lots of clothing was trouble, so most of us looked like a throwback to the 19th century. One of my girls had come home sobbing and upset that three boys had tried to do things to her. She’d been going to self-defense class since she could walk almost, so you can guess that it didn’t come out well for the boys. And now, going out alone just revealed you as a fool. When the girls and I went to the store to see if they had anything, it was always the four of us together, and I carried my, more than a hundred-year-old pistol in the folds of my skirt. It was hard to get ammunition, so I was careful about that.

Like I said, I’d been sipping my Schnapps when Jane, the oldest came out and said she needed some groceries. It was time for my walk anyhow, so I handed her my half full drink and asked her to put it in the cooler. Sure, we didn’t have any ice now but at least it would keep the flies out of it. I had a very quiet little generator that would run the refrigerator, but we were low on gas, so we had shut it off this morning. She looked at my drink and drank it all. I knew she was nervous about going out, so maybe the drink would help summat. I had come off the porch and crossed the street when one of the neighbor boys came out of their house holding this very modern looking Military rifle with two barrels, two bolts and one of those modern sights that let you shoot at night.

“Hey Gwen, can you tell me why this won’t fire?”

Me I’m an old post op tranny that passes really well, but most of my neighbors know my sempər fiˈdālis past. Yeah, a lot happened, and no one was happier than I when it was over. I came out with a new right leg and a hand that could turn lug nuts without a wrench. I never talked about it unless someone got me a little tipsy, or a lot … you decide.

I looked at the piece and recognized it to be one of the weapons that very few operators carried, and lethal as you’d ever want. I opened the front bolt and found these little rounds in there; obviously not the right ones. There should have been Sausage size .50 rounds, and these were smaller than an M-14 7.62 round. I was about to open the rear bolt when two military rigs pulled up and stopped in front of my house. The girls were just coming down the steps and after he said something to them, they turned and ran back into the house.

That immediately aroused my ire, so I walked up to the street side of his rig and put the barrel of the rifle in through the open window. “Hey, dumb ass, what did you say to my girls?”

“That wouldn’t be any of your business old lady.”

That was just enough to get me to fire a round into his bare metal cab and then listen to the shotgun balls rattle around in there.

When the smoke cleared, he was picking at a buried ball in his left cheek.

“You sit crazy, old lady !!!”

“You bet and the next one goes right in your ear.”

From the driver’s window of the larger vehicle in back came, “Hey hank, you want I should take care of this bitch?”

I said, “He’ll be dead before you can get a shot off. Clear your weapon now, soldier.”

The driver from the front rig said, “We aren’t real soldiers, we just took these trucks from the armory. The gate was open, and no one was around.”

“That’s fine, so my advice to you is to get yourself out of here while you yet breathe.”

The one from the rear vehicle just had to try me again. “What says we won’t go get one of those big tanks and run your house over?”

I’d had enough of this twit, so I ran down the side of his rig and jumping on the step, reached in and pulled him up to me by putting a couple fingers inside his cheek and pulling. We came face to face with him hitting at me with his left fist. I used my “special” hand to grab that arm and started crushing. He accommodated me by screaming like a little girl.

“So far, I don’t think anything is broken but this arm is going to be bruised and painful for a while. I think I told you to stand down before. What part of that did you not understand? I don’t care if those tanks are sitting there, but someone as stupid as you couldn’t even get it started, let alone drive it. And, you haven’t seen the toys I have. Do you actually want to try my patience further?”

I stepped down and moved across the street to the sidewalk. Jimmy, the neighbor boy was still standing there, but he seemed to be in shock or mezmerized.

Shortly, both trucks started up and they left the neighborhood like they were being pursued by legions of the Shatin’s evil Jenn daemons. Because of all the drugs the Military used on me I became a sort of pretend Muslim, and violent when aroused.

I yelled across the street, “Come on girls, let’s go to the store”.

The three of them came trooping out looking like a litter of Cheshire cats. “We knew that you would think of something Gwen”.

We went on down to the store, about a mile away, and got about half of what we needed. Thankfully, my bank was still open, and they had cashed my check, giving me $1000 in cash, with the rest going into my savings, though I didn’t know if I could ever get to it. Plastic cards had stopped working as soon as the ancient Abrams tanks had started busting up the White House.

When we got back from the store, sure enough, someone had broken the front door window. When I talked to Jimmy, he said that the two idiots had come back and done that. When we went into the house, an undischarged hand grenade was laying in the hall. They hadn’t pulled the pin. I figured that they were just too stupid for me to kill.

That night after dark, the girls dressed in camo pants and cute tops, and I went over and got Jimmy and we all went down to the Armory, about 2 miles away. I wasn’t that surprised to find the idiots passed out in one of the interior offices. Later, we hung them on the back doors of an east bound Semi, and paid the driver not to “discover them” until at least the Mississippi.

The Armory was largely undisturbed save for the two trucks that our friends had run nearly out of fuel.
I signed out for a case of .45 ACP, very surprised that they had that. We also got a 50 Barret and a gun that fired the new antitank rounds. Jane and the girls got rifles. She promised to show them how to handle them, though where they would shoot them without attracting attention was a mystery to me. Little did I know that she had been seeing a City Cop and they’d all been to the indoor range before things went too crazy. Parents never seem to know anything do they? We also signed out a couple of large hand trucks and a flight line cart to bring our legally signed out goods home.

Uh well, I’m not actually their parent, but since we all fell in together when they were very young, and I’d taken care of them, I was Mom. It wasn’t a bad life for a failed Fundi Missionary that had fallen deep into sin, according to her family and the incensed church leaders. The truth of the matter was that since the powers that be had decided that my severe PTSD from lots of combat, was likely to kill me, they’d just load me up with mind altering drugs and got some loony lesbian counselor to tell me that I had GID. After that it wasn’t long until I was living as a woman and had the surgery and then they used an experimental drug on me that sort of cemented it all. I didn’t feel like there was anything to complain about.

Just before our midnight dinner tonight, Jane’s LEO friend showed up at the house to check on her, so she introduced me. We were all still in our Hellraiser clothes, though he’d surreptitiously seen us all in our “frontier” garb. He’d been conducting surveillance on us for weeks and had seen the incidents of earlier in the day with a tiny drone. I’d heard that persistent humming but just wrote it off to a bee’s nest or something.

He felt that we had natural “skills”, and wanted to use us in the movement to form a new government with no parties. By now, the whole country was adequately sedated enough to realize that the stupid, selfish and self-serving actions of a few had gone on long enough. Pursuant to the agreement of most, his group had met, they decided to start from scratch. The capitol would now be along the Mississippi somewhere in the Midwest. The elected representatives would get a small stipend and a coed dorm to live in while the government was in session; not more than 6 months a year for the voting part. A greatly reduced staff would run the day to day things. I had no idea what they would do with the lobbyists.

Jane’s pet peeve seemed to be the messing with the environment, and when she got going, she was a fire brand to behold. Maybe she’d be in the government?

Later as the groups studied, they found the population center of the US to be in Plato, Missouri. They still don’t know exactly where it is going but there is consensus that it will not be in DC. This morning as I was eating breakfast alone, I was having the forbidden, haram Bacon and eggs and pancakes of my own design, I noticed that the patchy Internet was saying that they were talking of NO permanent structures for the Capitol; that born out of frustration with the excesses of the previous government. Someone suggested a tent city in eastern Colorado. Hmmm.

The girls and LEO were off doing what young people do. I'd have liked to go out to play too, but was not invited. Maybe I'd read "The Foundation Trilogy" of some other 50's Sci Fi. I would have ridden my bike out somewhere but now days I wasn't sure it was safe yet.

About then, the batteries on my laptop died, so that was the end of the news. We used solar cells to charge things, and the batteries going dead that early in the morning indicated to me that one of the girls was running things when she should have been sleeping. Nope, I was not asking.

They weren’t worried about the Russians any more, who seemed fully occupied with drinking Vodka and entertaining the nice Aliens. China was just wanting to get things going again so the west could finance them by trade.

The End? I think so.

or not?

A Life Destroyed, or Created?

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

Short-short < 500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

College / Twenties

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

I have worked on this poetry for years. Kelly Blake's new entry inspired me to share it. I am sure that any Transgendered person will understand it. There are a variety of themes contained within it. I think I was reading the work of the likes of Frost, and his contemporaries at the time. I started it in the Late 80's after I finally figured out that I was Transgendered and there was no cure.

It started out centered on the page with a yellow background. Anyone who would care to correct that, you are welcome, but I do not wish anyone to tamper with the text at all.

By Khadijah Gwen Brown

Once you think your goals are meet
Evil men entangle your feet
You are then beset by strife
They make a shambles of your life
You become that which you feared
They take all you held dear
To love God I avail
His mercy shall prevail
At a loss to find a place
Others have taken my space
Mind and body are at war
Death seems the only option
Oh I did pray would God hear me?
Has my relief come yet near me?
Mind and body are split clearly
But, I lost those I held dearly.
They want to force me
To not be me
Not as I am
Will they let me live.
They see me the way they want,
Not as I am
Death sweetly calls me to her bosom
Take me spirit to another place.
There is no strength to continue
In this place
Is there yet another venue?
Where the inner being is seen?
Are there those who actually care?
Are there those whose minds are clear?
What about what I held dear?
Could they not see me, not their fear?
I live in another galaxy
It’s as though they all hate me
They assume I am a liar
That I am bound for fire
Do they need to hasten it?

So, that no one is unduly concerned, I am very happy at the moment. I have friends and am living comfortably in Oregon. The family is still uncommunicative, but that is often our lot is it not?

Life

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

Verse, Poetry, Lyric

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Life

By Gwen Brown

Love them until they kill you.

Life’s too hard, the pain is sweet.

Fear the ones who love you.

Love the ones who hate you.

They make you grow.

Deceivers will give you what you want,

Even if it is insane delusion.

Courage it takes to face it head on comes

After failure and pain.

If you have the courage

or are fuckin crazy.

Suddenly

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

500 < Short Story < 7500 words

Genre:

Character Age:

College / Twenties

TG Themes:

Other Keywords:

Dominance & Submission- no bondage

Permission:

Permission granted to post by author

Many thanks to Holly and Shelly for editing help.

Suddenly
By Gwen Brown

The feeling overwhelmed me so suddenly I had no chance to resist. Now I would do anything he asked of me.

Hello, my name is Carrie. He has not given me a last name. My name was not always Carrie. It was something else before, but I cannot utter it, or even write it.

I was hiking up a woodland trail about 40 miles from town. The day was beautiful and the scent of the mountain pines made me feel refreshed. As I walked, I took note of the birds and other wild life. I almost felt as if I was a brother to them somehow.

I could hear a stream running as I walked. It was out of sight in the underbrush but the sound it made was relaxing to me. I really felt as if these hikes somehow healed my spirit

Up ahead I heard a noise on the trail and assumed it was another hiker coming my way. As I proceeded up the trail, I noticed that the birds had stopped singing. An eerie silence had washed through the forest. I began to wonder if a bear or cougar were stalking me. Fear began to build in me as I walked. I didn’t have a weapon of any kind to defend myself, and the thought occurred to me that perhaps I should simply turn around and flee back down the trail.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw a man round the corner perhaps 50 yards ahead of me. I began to rehearse what I would say to him. I was nervous around strangers, and I couldn’t keep it from showing in my voice when I talked to them. Often I would mispronounce words or even become tongue-tied. Those who knew me were usually very understanding.

As he neared, I managed to squeak out, "Hello, it’s a nice day, isn't it?" There, I had done it. Only a little fear showed this time. That's the reason I liked to hike alone. I had no people to fear.

I thought it strange at first that he did not reply. It made me feel devalued and hurt. I began to mutter epithets under my breath, trying to salve my feelings. My eyes were suddenly wet. "Who needed him, anyhow?" I told myself in a whisper. I suddenly hoped it was not too loud and that he had not heard me. I quickened my pace, hoping distance between us would lessen the humiliation.

Much to my surprise, I suddenly heard his voice. It was deep and compelling. I felt drawn toward him in a way I cannot explain, and immediately froze in my tracks, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

"Yes, it is a good morning. Come here and sit with me?" he suggested. I turned and with little hesitation, started walking along the trail toward him. I couldn’t help myself. ‘What am I doing? This man is a stranger. Anything could happen.’ I reasoned.

Anything did happen. I lost my will in a few words. My resolution was so absent I didn’t even sense its loss as I walked over and sat on a fallen log right next to him. As he looked me over from feet to head, I didn’t feel fright any more. I didn’t feel anything.

As he appraised me for a few minutes I felt suspended like a butterfly pinned to a board.

"That is no way for a lady to sit, is it?" His voice had a strange tonal quality, though I couldn’t tell exactly what was odd about it.

I sat up straight, pulled my thighs together, angled my thighs to the side, and kept them together. I knew I would do whatever he said.

I placed my hands in my lap, folded. "I'm sorry, Sir, I won't do it again.” Something inside me screamed like a prisoner locked in a cage. It began to fight its way out, breaking the control. Looking into his eyes, I could sense that he knew I was fighting him. I felt panic. I could not move at all.

A smile spread across his face. "Good, I had hoped you would not go too easily. I love a good contest of wills, don't you?" He sounded amused at my efforts to break the control. I almost surfaced several times, only to be driven back by his stronger will. In the end, he overpowered me with so little effort it amused him.

"I shall make you my little toy," he told me. While his words terrified me, there was a kindness in his voice which was unmistakable. I was scandalized, because everything I tried to do to resist, he simply brushed aside. To add to my shame, in the end I wanted him to conquer me. He’d uncovered a long smoldering ember in me. What had I become?

I couldn't remember anything as I wakened. I was lying on the ground beside the log, in the fetal position. I was just recovering from the most exquisite feeling I had ever experienced. I had masturbated before, but this was nothing like it. I could hear myself moaning, not in pain, but in pleasure. I felt inside out, yet slowly I was returning to normal. I could feel the waves of pleasure subsiding. I tried to do something to prolong the pleasure, but could not.

He looked at me, amused. He didn't have to tell me what would happen the next time I resisted. "There will be more if you behave yourself,” he promised me. Calling me ‘Young Lady,’ he bid me follow him as he rose and made his way back up the trail. We walked toward Bald Peak for almost an hour before he turned North off the trail and moved into a part of the woods where I’d never been. We stopped, and I had only time to hear, "Time to sleep again."

I wakened lying in a bed in a bedroom which was decorated in a strange combination of Science Fiction and Victorian decor. It all felt very tasteful, and I immediately liked the room. My body felt drained and then I understood that he had put me out again without even touching me. I could remember pleasure, but that was all.

Feeling too consumed to move, I looked sleepily around the room. It felt so very feminine, yet I felt relaxed and at home. ‘At home? What am I thinking?’ I looked at the dressing table with its lace covering and oval mirror, seeing several necklaces hanging there and somehow knew they were mine. The bed I was in felt so soft and comfortable that I felt myself slipping off to sleep again. My last thought was to wonder what was in my closet.

The sun was just setting when I wakened again. I felt so much more refreshed than the first time I had wakened. I had to pee urgently. I sprang out of bed hoping to find a bathroom right away. Surprisingly, my bedroom had its own bath.

Knowing it was my bedroom felt so odd. I began to ask myself questions. ‘What am I doing here? I am obviously a man, and this is a woman's room.' Sitting there on the toilet, I began to take stock of my situation. I had sat, when I could have just stood to take a piss. I knew everything was still intact. I knew I was a male.

As soon as that thought passed through my head, I asked myself what kind of male I was. Self-doubt about myself surfaced to an unusual extent, and began to wash over me like some tidal wave. I felt crushed by the disappointment I felt in myself. I was such a lousy male. At the ripe old age of 25, I had never had a date. I only spoke to women when they talked to me.

In a surge of rebellion, I stopped pissing and stood up. I turned around and began to piss like a male. It flowed okay but when the splashes began to hit my legs, it was so revolting, I didn't know what to do. I almost vomited.

I knew something was wrong, because I had never felt revolted by what had to be a completely normal male experience. Something had changed, because the act was so unappealing now that I did not even want to think of it. Abruptly it occurred to me that it was HIM. HE had done this to me. I felt angry and very afraid.

I knew I had to get out of there. I began rushing around the room looking for my clothes. I searched all the dressers and three closets and couldn’t find them.

I decided to see what was outside this room, at the same time anticipating that he would have probably locked it.

Much to my surprise, the door opened. I appeared to be alone, at least in this part of the house. The hallway was richly carpeted in deep brown and the walls had matching wallpaper above dark wainscoting. ‘What a luxurious place,’ I thought. Much to my surprise, my clothes were outside the door, neatly folded and in a paper bag.

I quickly grabbed them and closing the door, put my old underwear on just like I always had, and picked up my pants. I was feeling uneasy. Those panties were dirty. Why had I called them dirty? When I got up this morning, it would not have bothered me at all.

Still bothered, but not deterred, I started to orient my pants to put them on. When my wallet fell out of the pocket I picked it up and it fell open to my drivers' license. I looked at it a moment. Yep, that was me. Gee, why did I always look so goofy when they took my picture. Then I realized that I could not read my own name. I knew my name, I thought, but when I began to say it I couldn’t continue. I couldn’t even think about my name.

In shock, I stood there, staring at my picture, wishing I could read my name. This was so upsetting my eyes began to fill with tears. I screamed with anguish and began to sob so hard that I fell on my butt. Repeatedly I screamed, as if I screamed hard enough it would all be okay. Deep inside I knew it wouldn't ever be okay again.

"What have you done to me? Why did you do this?" I yelled at the top of my lungs. Falling on the floor I wept for a long time. I lost track of how long it was. Finally, my sobbing just ran out of force. I had no energy left, and just lay there staring at nothing in particular.

I began to wonder what would happen to me. I gradually began to pull myself together. I couldn’t put my pants on. Not caring why, I tore out of the room and down the hallway. Most of the doors were locked, but one was a laundry room and another looked like a family room. I found a kitchen and a storage area full of canned goods and cleaning supplies.

There, just outside the storage room was what appeared to be the doorway outside. I knew I had to leave before he caught me. I had to get away from him while I had this last chance. Who knew what he planned to do to me. I had no idea that he had already started doing it, but in very subtle ways.

I ran outside wearing just my underwear. There it was again. Something in my mind said they were panties, despite their appearance.

I had run almost a mile, I would guess, when there he was on the trail in front of me again. I knew it would be useless to run, but I had to try. I turned and ran off into the woods, but just as I thought he was allowing me to leave, I heard his damnable voice again, calling to me. I hated it. It frightened me more than anything I had ever experienced.

"Why don't you come over here and talk to me, Dear." he asked. I suddenly felt powerless and impotent. I didn't resist as hard this time, because I knew he would win. I wondered if I actually wanted him to win. I couldn't think straight. It was awful. It frightened me so much.

I stopped, and without hesitation or any other indication that I was fighting him, walked back to where he was standing. Facing him, I began to look into his eyes, which seemed so deep and unfathomable.

He stood there looking at me from head to toe. I actually began to wish he would say something, anything. Finally, he did. "Your efforts to resist me are so feeble. Why did you try it?"

I knew he was not really expecting an answer. I was afraid to speak. He kept looking at my eyes and I could not look away. It was as if he could see clear to my very soul.

"Deep inside you know that you can't just give in to me. What would happen to your self respect?" he asked. My lower lip began to shake. I knew the real answer and didn’t want to face it.

So then he had to say it. "It's because you really want me to win, but you can not face it yet."

With those words I could no longer look him in the eyes. My own eyes fell, and I began to weep. I wept harder and harder, and began to fall down. He caught me before I did and gathered me in his arms. That caress broke me. I wept in great wracking sobs that were so violent I just wanted to die.

He held me until it subsided. He stood there holding me for a long time, as if he had all the time in the world.

I was nearly asleep in his arms when he said, "Now, why don't you come with me, Dear and I shall make you as you ought to be."

‘What does he mean "ought to be?" What does he know? What gives him the right to determine how I ought to be?’ I vainly tried to be angry, but I did not have the energy. I followed him obediently back to his mansion, wondering how far I was from where he took me. I had no clue.

"Now Dear, why don't you go up to your room and shower? Then put on the clothes which are laid out there and come back down to dinner."

This time I did as I was told, willingly, knowing not only that I could not escape, but that I did not want to any longer.

After the shower I felt almost cheerful and rested, feeling completely empty of all emotion, as if I didn't have a single tear or sob left in me. It felt strange, but calm and pleasant.

I walked into the bedroom and found someone had laid clothes out for me. There were marvelous silken panties with just a hint of lace at the sides. I knew I had no breasts but I put on the bra with no qualms. I'd seen enough to know how to do it and how it should look. I feared to touch the outside of the cups, knowing they would collapse under my fingers. ‘Am I actually longing for breasts?’ I half expected stockings and a garter belt; After all, hadn’t I been kidnapped by some predator?

There were just panty hose. Almost disappointed, I put them on. I was thankful I had spent extra time after the shower primping and fixing my nails so they would not snag the fragile hose. How had known to do that?

I emerged into the hall wearing a pretty blue gingham dress and low heels. I had no makeup on and I'd just combed my boyish hair. As I emerged from the end of the hallway, I saw him sitting in a chair at the breakfast table. Feeling nervous, I walked over to the table and stood there.

“Tomorrow you will meet your maid, dresser and teacher,” he told me. He explained that Mary usually stayed out of the way until we accepted what was going to happen to us.

I asked how many of "US" there had been but I got a reproving look and got no answer. I did not bring the matter up again.

He appraised me for a few moments and then smiled. "You look beautiful." He told me. My head was throbbing, because my heart was pounding. I almost missed it when he said, "I shall call you Carrie." At once I had a very deep feeling of "rightness" in me. I instinctively knew it was right, and I was becoming who I had always been and never even suspected it.

I did not know how he did it, but often I would waken to another new remodeling of some part of my body. He once told me that most of my dimensions were close enough to the norm that no extensive skeletal changes were required. He did, however, do something to my pelvis. I was slightly sore the next morning and for a time afterward. He never told me how he’d accomplished what he did.

He did put me on a diet and I reduced from 165 to 134. At 5' 8" I was still a healthy young woman. He said he did not make ‘Twiggys’. I didn't know what he was talking about until he explained it. I didn't know who Twiggy was. It took some time to become accustomed to "C" breasts.

After I had been with him for what I had thought was a year, I wakened one morning feeling sick, with cramping in my stomach. He'd been quite sharp with me a couple times in the last few days. When he’d said I was acting out of sorts, I bawled, and he became frustrated. We ate in silence that night. Now I knew it was me who had been out of sorts and now I knew why. The flow started later that day.

Some times I can wear a size 8 or 10, but on truly sized clothes I usually have to settle for a 12. He says I have a very cheerful palette; preferring clothing to be colorful and form fitting, but never too short or exposing too much.

I never understood exactly where we were because I always seemed to fall asleep in the car as we drove to town. Oddly, one shopping trip would be to LA, and then another would be in Denver. He even took me to New York once.

One spring, he asked me if I wanted to go to college in the fall. I felt as if I was getting too old. I had no idea how much time had elapsed but I felt as if I must be at least 30 although my looks belied that. Looking in the mirror, I could never be sure if I looked 30 or 18. I was afraid to think I was 18. That had to be a fantasy.

When I was silent for a long time, he asked me how old I thought I was. He laughed when I told him 30. "Let's see, you are about to start college, you'll be 18." I knew I was in for some prank because of that certain gleam in his eye. I knew better than to dispute him after what he had accomplished with my body.

I was deep in thought for several moments. Then, for the first time, I felt real gratitude for his exposing me for who I was and then healing my body to match my brain.

My voice almost failed me when I stood in front of him and said, "Thank you, Sir. May I kiss you?" He looked at me with that little gleam in his eye. "Why would you think a girl needs to ask for permission?" I didn’t know how he would do it, but I knew one morning I would waken at the age of 18.

It happened the morning after he moved me into a little Ohio town with a junior college. I asked if I would be permitted to have a job, and he gave me his permission. I knew after my first day with him, I could not do anything that he did not allow me to do. He did not live there with me, but he showed up frequently to pay bills and give me instruction. As we talked about the boy I worked with, he said the boy would be a fool not to have a crush on me. He only smiled as the redness spread up my neck to envelop my face.

By now, my brown hair had grown down to just below my shoulders. I had no inclination to cut it. I usually just washed it and brushed it out, although one time I got ringlets in it to be part of a wedding. It took so long for them to go away. When I complained to him he just smiled. I knew I would have to work this one out on my own.

My second year in college, I met a boy. He was everything I ever wanted in a man. When I was near this boy, it made me feel really funny. He took me out a lot. I really enjoyed going to an authentic 50’s style fountain where he would buy each of us a real vanilla malt. We talked about everything. I found it really difficult to sit still when we talked. He had this way of looking at me that made me wiggle and squirm in my seat.

We did not have sex. I had the feeling that HE would be upset.

In our conversations, I discovered that the boy had known HIM for about a year. I wondered if HE had remodeled the boy just for me.

~-~-~-~

One morning after we were married, Dan and I were playing in the bedroom. Dan has a way of making me giggle so hard that I almost can’t move, and I get really hysterical. When he is doing that I can't stand it, but sometimes when he stops I do things to him to entice him to attack me again. I am so happy with him. That night in a dream, at least I think it was a dream, HE came to me.

"Well Carrie, are you sorry I took you?" he asked.

I sensed something was different about this meeting. "I fought you at first. I'm sorry," I replied.

"Why are you sorry you fought me? It would have been no challenge if you had you not." There was that gleam in his eye again that let me know he was playing with me.

"I was never a challenge to you. You took me and I could not stop you."

"Do you wish you could have stopped me?" he inquired.

"I would have been a fool, and you know it." He was leaving, and I knew it. For a few moments nothing passed between us but feelings of love and gratitude.

"Will I see you again?" I asked. I could feel emotion welling up in my chest. I hoped I would not be robbed of speech when I so needed to talk to him.

"It is time I move on," he told me.

Tears started flowing down my face. He smiled at me. I stood on my toes and kissed him. "Thank you, Sir."

"You are very welcome, Carrie Ann Brown."

~-~-~-~

I wakened suddenly to the sound of a man in the street laughing loudly. Disoriented, I realized that I had been dreaming, but the man in the street was no dream. Careful not to wake Dan, I crept out of bed and ran to the window. He was just passing around the corner. I only got a short glimpse of him. I just knew it was he.

I never saw him again, but at special times, like when the children were born, I had the feeling he was looking in on me. I would hear his laugh or see a glimpse of someone familiar.

I never knew his name. I try hard to be his best project.

END NOTE :

I am writing this note almost 5 years since I published this story. In retrospect, I now see it as a sort of Transgender "50 Shades of Grey". I tried to portray some of my deepest needs and wishes. Yes there is a relationship between pain and pleasure for me, the knowledge that I have not run my own life well and need someone to help me.

Swan Song

Author:

Gwen Brown

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

Short-short < 500 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Toddler

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

I wrote this story probably in 2000 and published it in 2001 on Storysite. At the time, I don't think I had any idea where life would take me; certainly not to transition. It is true, and short. This really did happen to me.

Swan Song by: Credence Browne (Now Gwen Brown)

I stood on the seat of the couch, looking out the window, wanting to go outside. Pointing outside, I began talking in my little child's voice. "I want to go mom." I said.

Mom said, "You'll get all dirty, dear, and spoil your nice dress." I looked down at my clothing. I was wearing a yellow dress today. She'd just removed the curlers from my blonde baby hair. I was at first unhappy and fussed. She sat me on her lap and hugged me tightly. "Dear, I love you so much. You are such a pretty little girl.

I enjoyed the attention and the love. It was pleasant to listen to mom and another woman talk about things. I'd always enjoy listening to my mother and her friends or my sister and her friends talk. It made me feel as if I belonged.

The boys were not nice to me. I was too little, a girl.

I loved the feel of my pretty long hair. Its silken sheen brushed against my face in a sensual way that made me feel special.

I got to play outside with them once in a while but I hated getting dirty, and mom didn't like it either. My dress always got in the way at first, but as I grew I became more able to manage it.

One day I came into the living room. My mother was upset. She was arguing with a man, a stranger who'd come into our house a few days back.

"Lucille, he is not a girl. He needs a good whipping and a hair cut," he said. Things really seemed to break apart when I came into the room. Suddenly, he turned on me.

Mom seemed to be about to cry. "Oh Cliff, she's such a pretty little girl," She sobbed.

His countenance was frightening. Confused, I just stood there, I hadn't learned to fear him yet, hadn't felt his anger or the violence of his belt hitting me.

Suddenly he grabbed me by the arm and hoisted me into a chair atop a pile of catalogs and phone books.

Anyone remember how hard it was to sit on a pile of books?

Out came an odd looking tool; he began to pull my hair with it. I had no idea that they were hand held clippers. I'd never seen any before. I couldn't remember my older brothers having their hair pulled. Theirs was too short. I had no idea that soon mine would be much shorter.

It was frightening to listen to his angry voice, the sobs of my mother and have my hair pulled. Soon, the shorn locks began to fall in my face, on my shoulders and onto the floor. The pulling hurt awfully. I began to cry. This made him even angrier.

"God damn you little shit. Shut up or I'll give you a real reason to cry," he said. That was even more frightening. I cried even more.

I still remember the swish and snap of his belt as it came out of his pants. He held me up by one arm and began to beat me on the seat. My mother's sobs were even more upsetting and I had no idea how to calm her.

I finished that afternoon lying on the bed, bereft of my beautiful hair and very frightened of this new man in my life. I'd learn to hate and fear him. I'd never want to be like him. I'd be afraid I was like him or worse even his bastard son.

Through the years I've always remembered those lovely days when I was a girl, my mother loved me and I was happy. I still remember the lovely yellow dress and my long hair.

Several other times as I grew up, I attempted to return to those pleasant days, only to receive taunting admonitions to stop being a sissy. They had no idea that is exactly what I wanted to be. I was always too frightened to live my own life.

Over the years not a day has passed that I did not wish I were a woman. Too many responsibilities, too many cares, too many to care for. Those in my life care for me only in ways, which seem right to them, not me.

It is nearly over now, too late to change anything. Perhaps if there is a God, I shall get another life where I can be what I was born to be. If not, I hope there is no other life. I'd simply like to lie down and have silence with no more pain.

*********************************************
© 2001 by Credence Browne. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.