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From: Edwin Gay <gaye@delphi.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: TG:"What goes around..." (Magic trans rape)
Date: Fri, 21 Oct 94 20:01:57 -0500
Organization: Delphi (info@delphi.com email, 800-695-4005 voice)
Lines: 409
Message-ID: <BE-UKZN.gaye@delphi.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: biotechnet.com
WHAT COMES AROUND...
By Glory Elaine
(c)1990
Bob Jones smiled as he looked over at the beautiful girl in the
seat next to him. He had been picking up supplies at Caribou Falls
for his summer getaway cabin in the Alaskan mountains. He had
picked his cabin site for its solitude. It was high up the mountain
and accessible only by means of an old logging road which forked off
the highway. Unfortunately, it also placed him about 250 miles from
supplies in either direction on the highway. It was just pure luck
that he ran into her that day. He noticed her over at the gas station
next to the general store. She had been hitchhiking her way down to
California from Junou. Claimed she had relatives down there. But
Jones knew better. This kind of girl, traveling alone? She had
probably been lured by the fantasy of Hollywood. That just wouldn't
work out. Hollywood would eat her up and spit her out just like it
had the thousands of would-be starlets before her, and just like it
would to the thousands that would follow her. But Jones had
different plans for her. He figured he would save her a wasted life.
She hadn't seemed very hesitant when accepting his offer to
drive her to Manachiqua, or even put off when he feigned sleepiness
and suggested that they stay the night at his cabin and start off
fresh the next day. He had that effect on women. They trusted him.
Maybe it was his kind, grandfatherly face.
It was late when the lights of the battered dodge truck
revealed his cabin in its headlights, but Jones was awake. It was
going to be a long, pleasure filled night. He hadn't had a girl up here
since a year ago, last summer. The aftermath of her disappearance
had been a little too hot for him and he had dispensed with his
nocturnal activities for a while, but he figured that enough time had
gone by for things to cool down.
Jones elicited the girl's help in unloading the supplies from the
truck. "No sense in wasting an extra pair of hands," he thought.
"Well, thanks a lot, missy." Jones drawled in his kind
grandfather voice. "You can go ahead and sleep in my room and I'll
take a cot in the living room." He pointed into a darkened room.
"Wait, here's the light." Jones reached in and flipped the light
switch on revealing a large four poster bed in the center of the room.
The girl smiled. "Oh this will be fine." She took off her jacket
as she entered the room and sat down on the bed. Suddenly her eyes
widened with fright and she raised her hand to her mouth as she
spotted a collection of knives and various other devices on the
dresser drawer.
"What are those." She asked in a hesitant voice.
"Those are just my toys," laughed Jones as he suddenly grabbed
her.
"Noooo!" She sobbed. "Let me go!"
Jones grinned. "Girl, don't even bother screaming. No one will
hear you here. We're miles from anyone else."
The girl struggled to no avail. He was much stronger than her.
His age belied a lifetime spent in the outdoors. After a brief tussle,
he stood back to observe his work. She was tied spreadeagle to the
four poster bed. He smiled as he eyed his catch. The girl was
beautiful. She was in her early twenties, and had a voluptuously
lush body and a sensuous face. She was perhaps the most beautiful
woman he had ever seen.
He sat down on the bed and caressed the side of her face
surprisingly tenderly. She twisted away abruptly. Angrily, he
grabbed her roughly by the jaw and pulled her face around.
"You're mine, girly. You got that! You're body is mine to do
whatever I want to with." He kissed her savagely and rising, began
to take his clothes off.
Suddenly the girl began to laugh. It wasn't an innocent laugh or
even a nervous laugh. It was a very sinister laugh. It stopped Jones
cold because of its incongruity. Chilled, he looked down at the girl.
"Oh how droll. Are you going to rape me now?" She laughed
again. "Did you like my little performance? I certainly enjoyed
yours. How melodramatic. 'You're mine, girly,'" she mimicked and
giggled. "No, I don't think you understand, you're MINE!"
Angrily, Jones raised a hand to strike her. But suddenly he
forgot what he was doing. All there was -- his whole existence was
fixated upon her eyes. Those beautiful green eyes. They seemed to
be green pools of light in which he could gaze upon the Cosmos. They
seemed to grow larger and larger until there was nothing but green
everywhere and suddenly there was a brilliant flash of light and
Jones blinked and saw... himself standing over him.
Confused, he strained to move but he was bound. "No! What's
going on," thought Jones as he thrashed wildly. "How can this be?"
Wide-eyed, he stared down past his torso and past the rich rise of
bosom that was his now at himself.
"Nooooo!" he shrieked in a voice that was too high in pitch.
"How? Why... " He stumbled over the questions.
His face -- HIS face smiled smugly down at him from above.
"You said it yourself, 'You're mine girly. You're body is mine to do
with as I will.' Well you got your wish. You have total control of the
body now." The body that had belonged to Jones laughed. It leaned
back its head and roared.
"Please. I'm begging you. Don't do this. I'll let you go. I'll pay
you. I promise to never do this again." Jones pleaded.
"Hah, you're in no position to plead. How many girls asked you
for mercy. How many times did you listen, eh?"
"This is impossible," Jones moaned. "I must be dreaming."
"Oh now, this is no dream Mr., or should I say MISS Jones.
Perhaps you remember a girl named Donna, or how could you, since
you didn't even find out her name before you raped her and left her
wandering down the mountain for your little hunt?"
Jones strained and thought back. Now he understood why the
girl had seemed so familiar. It had been five years. She had been a
strong-willed one. It had been one of the best hunts Jones had ever
been on. But he had lost her. She had almost made it off the
mountain and to the highway, but the river was one obstacle that she
hadn't counted on and she couldn't get across it. When she fell in, he
had waited several minutes for her to come back up. When she
didn't, he had thought the girl drowned. Obviously, that had been a
big mistake.
"I see you do. I was that girl, and now you are too." Jones old
body, now occupied by Donna, giggled. Then seriously, "You should
have made sure that I drowned. You see, MISS JONES, there are
certain talents that are strong in my family. Some would call me a
witch, but the term Psionic is more accurate.
When I met you before, I didn't have the benefit of training and
had not yet attained my full potential. It took me a while to prepare
and plan what I would do to you. But once that was done, finding you
was pathetically easy." Jones old face snarled.
"What are you going to do to me!" His voice quivering, Jones
asked.
"Oh, nothing you wouldn't have done yourself." Donna completed
undressing and reached around to grab a knife.
"No, you wouldn't. This is your own body!"
"Nothing I can't repair Miss Jones, but you'll feel every bit of
it."
Jones screamed as Donna reached down and cut away his tee-
shirt and jeans revealing a black lace brassiere and panties. He
gasped as he looked down past his cleavage.
"Its different, hmm, when you're on the receiving end, isn't it."
His face grinned above him. Donna cupped a breast and then savagely
tore away the brassiere.
"No please... ," Jones moaned as he tried to move back and cover
himself -- his shame.
As the rest of his clothes were removed and his female form
revealed in all its nakedness, he looked above at the mirror. It
reflected an alabaster skinned slender beauty that moved as he
moved and breathed as he breathed.
"Not true... ," Jones moaned. "It's all a dream."
"No this is reality, the brutal reality of rape, Miss Jones."
Donna caressed Jones' breasts and began to rub his nipples.
To his shame Jones felt himself, this body, began to respond.
"No! Please, no more!"
"Oh yes, Miss Jones, you're going to go through everything that
I went through. You'll experience everything you ever did to those
poor girls who you trapped."
It was a long night for Miss Jones.
Jones looked blearily up at the mirror on the ceiling. It had
been a rough night. He had been repeatedly raped, beaten and
tortured. But his will was strong. He wouldn't be broken. His will
was still that of a man, dammit, though his body wasn't. As he
looked up he noticed that all the burns, cuts and bruises which had
been inflicted upon this body the previous night were gone. The
witch had been right. She could cure anything that she did. He
looked over at his old body. Donna had it seated in a lotus position
and seemed to be chanting. Was it just his imagination or did he
look younger. It wasn't his imagination. He was awed as he saw his
features change before his eyes. Slowly at first, but then more
quickly, his features began to blur and flow until a grotesque
vaguely humanoid shape remained. Then the features began to
solidify and reform but into a smaller shape. A shape that had an
entirely different silhouette altogether. The shape that reformed
wasn't that of the old Jones. It was that of an incredibly beautiful
woman's body and face. A body that was in fact better endowed and
more sensuous than even Donna's. A young woman who looked like
the idealized vision of Jones' victims.
"Noooo!" Jones cried out, "What have done to my body." He had
held hope that somehow he would regain his manhood -- his body, but
this destroyed that.
"I seen that you're awake." The stranger that had been himself
looked up wearily. "My healing powers are better than I remembered.
You see, I haven't had to use them very much recently."
"My body! What did you do to my body!" Jones screamed.
"I reformed it. I simply told your cells to conform to a new
shape. I used the excess mass as the source of energy for the
process."
"Why... " Jones began warily.
"To give it back to you, of course."
"What! No! I don't want a woman's body! Make me a man!"
"Donna laughed. "And let you continue your rapacious ways. No,
I don't think so." She walked forward to look into Jones' eyes. He
squirmed, predicting what was about to happen. He tried to avert his
eyes but couldn't. Once more he fell into a pool of green... and was
looking down at the bed. Quickly he tried to move but couldn't.
"Oh, you didn't think I'd be that stupid, did you, Miss Jones?"
Donna, once more in her own body, sat up as the bonds holding her
captive turned to dust. She stretched languorously and gathering up
her clothes, dressed slowly, even erotically, in front of Jones'
immobile form. Incredibly, there where no cuts or tears in them.
"Clothing is quite simple to mend, actually, or remake." She
explained. Donna walked around Jones and examined him. "My best
piece of work. I've had a year to plan it out.
I've changed your brain chemistry a bit. You'll find that you've
become a lot more submissive and nonaggressive except during sex.
I think you'll also find that you're body will control you. It has the
needs, wants and drives of a nymphomaniac and will make you
satisfy them as a woman."
Jones moaned through stiff lips.
"I know you'll like it. I matched it to your dream lover. You're
your own wet dream." She laughed. "Oh, by the way, don't get any
crazy ideas about mutilating yourself to make yourself unattractive.
The body will heal itself. Even if you try to commit suicide. In fact,
the only way for you to die is from old age. Oh, and you're now only
about age twenty-two physically. So you've got a lot of years left.
urned out the light. In the moments before he fell
asleep, Jones wondered what the next day would bring.