For once I was not depressed coming home from work. Unfortunately not being depressed meant that I finally had to do what I had put off for weeks: search my son’s room.
Being a police detective is not a cheerful occupation but today we finally had got a lead on the Vigilante Virgin! Well, that’s what the media call her anyway. Voluptuous, wearing a tight super-hero style bodysuit leaving nothing to the imagination she’s definitely a babe. Me, I don’t approve of criminals whatever reason they claim for their deeds. Beating up people is a crime even if she leaves them with sufficient evidence to get them convicted. However, actions like that always lead to someone getting seriously hurt. Even if I’m not sorry for the real criminals, innocent people the vigilantes think are bad guys or the vigilantes sooner or later will get hurt. In fact this is why I’m in a good mood. Last time she got stabbed and left some blood on the scene of her crime. I’m waiting for the DNA analysis now.
But back to my family problems. For some time now I had suspected that my son was on drugs. Over the last year he had changed in very suspect ways. First he dropped out of his martial arts classes. He claimed that he kept up practising in the basement that we had made into a practise area. For a while I believed him but then I realised that he only let two of his old friends in there and always kept the door locked whenever he was down there. And then the smell. The cloying flowery smell I could smell whenever I got down there or passed his bedroom door could very well be to hide something else. He used to be a dapper dresser but now he always walked around in a heavy sweater and a little bit hunched over but what really had made me worried was how tired he had become and his schoolwork was definitely slipping. Given that I know that drugs are dealt at his school I’m worried. For God’s sake the Virgin Vigilante struck first at a dealer in our neighbourhood.
My son didn’t know that I’ve always known about his secret hiding place behind a loose panel in his bedroom. As I had expected I found pills hidden there. Not the usual drugs though; oestrogens! What the fuck! I started to dig into his closet. I found girl's clothes hidden away. Skirts, dresses, tights… and in the back a knock-off of the Vigilante Virgin’s costume. A good copy. Hey, he must have gone through the papers I sometimes bring home from work since it incorporated some details not made public!
As I was going through his closet my son walked in. He looked at the clothes on the floor and resignedly said:
“Well, I guess I don’t need this any longer and can let the puppies out”
He took of his sweater and shirt and started to unwind a bandage around his chest. Well, he had a pair of really spectacular breasts! Combined with the lean, muscular curvaceous body I got a reaction that a father definitely shouldn’t get when looking at his son.
My phone beeped. I looked at the message. The result of the DNA analysis was in. WTF: XY!
I looked up at my son and the last bandage lower down on his chest with a bit of blood seeping through. Belatedly I realised. He saw that I had finally understood.
“Dad, you have no idea what a great feeling it is to put on the tight costume, to show off my great teenage girl figure and really kick some bad-guy ass. The adrenaline kick is incredible. Being so feminine and so powerful at the same time and all the adoration I get. You have no idea the high I get.”
And then he finally broke down and started to cry. I took a step forward and took him in my arms.
“Dad, please help me. I’m a heroine addict!”
While this story is a sequel to “The Addict” it can be read separately (though I strongly recommend reading “The Addict” first).
Declaration: No puns were harmed in writing this story. Actually this story is no phun at all, sorry should have been has no puns at all. There is a risk that some people might consider it fun though I think there is more of a story than usual.
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I had been working under-cover for nearly a year now slowly getting into a drug-gang. I finally had managed to gain the trust of the leaders of the gang. The lead detective, Jake Collins, had told me they were ready to act the next week.
He should have been very satisfied but at the last meeting he had opened up about his family. I suppose that being from another precinct he felt it safe to talk to me. He apparently had a great need to talk about his son, his only child, who he suspected had got hooked on drugs but had no idea how to confront the kid. Another thing that bothered him was the Vigilante Virgin. Me, I thought she was great. Of course as a cop I should deplore her actions but the way she “packaged” the bad guys for us and from the few pictures taken ...she was hot! Jake, however, worried that she could cause someone to get seriously hurt, if no one else herself. Also, he didn’t say so but I think he worried she’d get in the way of our operation. No way! Even in the unlikely case she’d come after me I was confident I could handle her.
I was running the operations for the drug gang in one part of the city. I usually avoided to use kids as cut-outs but there was one kid, Marvin, that had proved invaluable to me. The funny thing was that he didn’t quite fit in the hard business. He was soft, almost gentle but extremely efficient. As a matter of fact he had started to grow on me in more ways than one. I carefully had created a reputation of being a ladies man, a Casanova. While there was a kernel of truth in it I had made sure that the perception was vastly exaggerated. It served me well both in the force and, especially, in my present assignment. It gave me extra points with the local drug-baron. What a jerk! Well, anyway. Though I’m both by reputation and inclination very heterosexual this Marvin kid started to interest me. Despite the fact that he covered up in baggy sweaters and slouched there was something special about him. If I hadn’t known better I’d have said there was something feminine about him but at the same time I got a feeling that there was something powerful about him. It intrigued me, it fascinated me, I couldn’t get him out of my head.
After that last meeting with Jake I started to think. The more I thought the more convinced I became that Marvin in reality was the Vigilante Virgin in disguise. I decided to push things a bit. If Marvin was the Vigilante Virgin it would expedite things in a way I was in control, if not … Well Marvin was damned cute!
The next day I got Marvin alone into my “office” in that old decrepit building. I shut the door swept him into my arms and kissed him passionately. For a few seconds he responded willingly and then he pushed me away and fled.
I figured that the Vigilante Virgin was going to attack me that night. I could have pulled out without any problem, my superiors would have understood. However, if I could take out the Vigilante Virgin I would have it made. As a cop it would be a nice boost for my career but even more importantly I would rise in the drug ring and get closer to the real important players.
Fortunately I’m very good at booby traps so that night I was sitting by my desk waiting for the Vigilante Virgin to break through the door. That was the only way she could come since my “office” was on the seventh floor. As soon as she broke down the door in her usual style she would automatically be tasered and I would be able to “package” her the same way the “packaged” her victims.
As I was mentally patting myself on the shoulder she crashed through the window. In two seconds flat she had incapacitated me. Shows how much all that police close combat training is worth! I could still speak … sort of … so when she prepared to give me a kick that would have seriously fucked me up:
“Marvin, please don’t”
“So you recognised me. What shall I do with you now? And why did you have to kiss me?”
Then the door disintegrated into small pieces and Jake stormed in.
“Stop, Vicki! Don’t do it! He’s a cop!”
Unfortunately I’m very good at rigging booby traps. In a moment Jake was in convulsions on the floor. The Vigilante Virgin shouted “Daddy!” and ran over to him.
“I’m OK, get out of here.”
The Vigilante Virgin ran over to the window and jumped out. Hey, we were at the seventh floor! Laying there on the floor I gasped:
“The Vigilante Virgin is your … son!?”
Then I blacked out.
It must have been around noon the following morning that I was woken by the sound of my door being opened. Yes, I was at home. In and out of the Emergency Room in only two hours. Being a cop has got some benefits in our city. Nothing serious; no broken bones, no internal bleeding, no concussion. Only an impressive collection of bruises, minor wounds …
Jake had brought me home and apparently the shifty fellow had kept the keys since it was he who entered my bedroom as I woke up. He looked very serious and uncomfortable. He started to explain how he only the day before the attack had discovered that 1) his son was transgendered 2) that his daughter was the Vigilante Virgin. He still hadn’t decided what to do but he begged me not to tell anyone and that he would compensate me for my injuries. He would also make sure that no matter what this was the end of the Vigilante Virgin.
Under the sheet my bedmate for the night stopped her very nice attention to a protruding part of my body and slowly slithered up until her head broke free of the sheet and we wound up with our lips against each other. You may wonder how I could have a bedmate after last night. The answer is: VERY, VERY carefully.
She turned her head towards Jake and said:
“Hi, Daddy! I promise to be a good girl from now on. And besides after last night it’s not like I could any longer be the Vigilante Virgin."
I knew my future father-in-law would make me pay for that for a long, long time but the look on Jake’s face was worth it!
The End?