Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Or Background, !ntroduction. Like LesPreK, the common threads here are: Analog (Mostly VHS/Polaroid) to avoid detection online. A sex-shop that deals in CP, Prostitution, Sex Slavery, and Snuff, the character/s Molly (They're complicated) and 2 co-escalating families of Nepiofiles. 1 run by a Black teenage prostitute, who's prefferrential to interracial boys (Her boys) and eventually kills the girls when she has another. The other a pseudo-sapphic "Mommy" and a series of lov/ictims, including her own daughters. There is no "True" version of these stories. There's a record, and various false accounts from the different characters. All of them are lying, which is why they each disagree on who actually contacted "Max" to sell childporn, and snuff tapes. All of them blame someone else, mostly the nonexistent husband, who never actually was in the picture. "Max" has no reason to lie, just a fly on the wall, but only sees the products. Everyone else has every reason to lie to him, however. That said, if ju wanna skip ahead to the sex/snuff action, just go ahead, and start at Fulla Famly.} "Max" (Mf{c} NS CP Snuf Talk) So, I printed everything out, locked up the deposit, counted out, and turned over the keys to the new girl. Molly, young, gay. Literally written all over her, tattoos, a lot of ink for just 19, but after a few years, you tend to realize some people pack more living into their years. Haven't really gotten to know eachother yet. She puts on some Music. Or, at least that's what she calls it. Blip, bloop, catchy beat, like bubblegum pop on acid looped through a moog. "Fantastic," In German, "Plastic Fantastic!" That's the part I understand. [PNE - Plastik Fantastik (Mascinenraum/DjCMB Mix)] Scrolled across her otherwise blank screen. I kept counting. "So what's your story?" "Boring," I shrugged, just try not to think any other numbers, $360, $80, $400... "I'm asexual." "That explains a lot." "I can't really have sex. So, I started trying to find what turned me on." "Nothing." I nodded, she leaned back, hands up to grip the edge of the counter. "You're Gay." "What gave it away?" [D|Y|K|E] across her knuckles. Wrote down: [$7,629. ] Started on the unrolled change, with a glance at the printout. "Subtle clues, here, and there." "Well, I was." She rubbed the dagger tattoo on the back of her hand. [M|A|I|N] across her left knuckles. "Then I started getting into, other things." The crawl changed on the screen: [PNE - Prestigebobject (Blutengel Remix)] "Porn." "Well, a little." Backyard Video, in stock. Not a popular title. "Fuckingmachines.com?" We have a website, and I watch the competition, too. "Tenticon, Object Insertions, BDSM, and Pregnant Fantasy." "Pregnant Fantasy?" Haven't actually heard that one before. "Yeah, you know. Without a man, I'm sure I could go to a fertility clinic, but you know how much that costs?" "I could look it up." "More than I got, but that's where my fantasies, let me stress that. FANTASY. Gets darker." "Huh!" I nodded, "I doubt you'll be able to shock me, but thanks for the warning." "Oh yeah, some guy stopped bye." she looked around, "Didn't give his name, or say what it's about, but he said he'd come back later." Doesn't narrow it down. "How much darker?" [Jackhammer Chamber Ensemble - You Want it Darker? (Leonard Cohen R.I.P. Mix)] "Well," she blushed. "You know. I can't afford to take care of a child, either." I swallowed, nodded. "You could adopt." "Or, terminate it. After about, 3-4 years." Longer than a pregnancy. You don't just say Snuff, out loud here. Right on the Don't Ask board. "Of course," she shrugged it off, "I'm not even getting pregnant, so it's just a fantasy." "And porn?" "Snuff films?" She laughed, "You know that's a myth." She shook her head. "Of course," not. "So, anyway, he subtly insinuated that you might have some videos, that aren't on the floor." She glanced up, at the Don't Ask board. Right over my shoulder. "Well," I zipped up the deposit, "I'll see what I can do." Slipped the padlock through the zipper pulls. Security drop bag from the bank, get a new one with the next pickup in the morning, to make change throughout the business day. You understand, we don't really do regular business hours. 24/7, but our customers tend to come in, one at a time, at night. She takes the easy day shifts... [...onoton Synchron (Technoir remi...] {Musikal Notes: Not available on Utoob, check Alpha-Matrix. Anything marked Jackhammer Chamber Ensemble(JCE) or Dj Chrome Molly Bach (CMB) is a completely fictitious remix, or something in my head that I lack the musical talent (Or neuronano) to play for anyone else. All of my recurring characters are fantasy (SciFi/Horror) versions of me, or monsters from my subconscious to serially linebang, and kill me off...} ; Elanore {Hanzel und Gretyl - Komm zu Uns! (Uber Alles)} Just hanging out in the BDSM sexion. Fuscha haired teenager rocking out behind the counter, but what could I steal, a box? Run my fingers over [Brutal Lesbians] the girl strapped to the sawhorse, stripped with welts, and covered in red candle wax. I've seen it, but they don't update the selection here. Not on this rack. I straightened up, when he came around the display of toys. Spread my shoulders, and lifting my 36 Ds, rocking my hips down, and locking my knees. 3" Heels spread shoulder width apart, not quite my full 6' tall, with these boots. Dismissive sneer curling up my lip, turning to look over my shoulder, and down. He sees me, glances up from the side of my chest, looks away. Lets see if he's into femdom. "See anything you like?" Let my teeth shine in my most charming grin, popping out a pyramid, and clamping it in the corner of my lip. Wink. "Uh," yeah. "You, into this. Kind of, S&M thing?" "You?" "I don't like pain." "Bondage?" "I never tried it." "Come on," I patted his back. "Perhaps you just haven't met the right woman." "Optimeiren ze optimizmus. Ze stuben ze das Unterstelte!"* "See you, Molly." She just waves, boredly. Just walked him out through the security arch, without any anti-theft tags to set it off. {*IK, the character doesn't know the lyrics. And yes, Molinja looks just like Vas Kallas, always did. She's basically an espy.} ; "Vic." She threw out the butt, and rolled up the window, so the loud buffeting cut out. "So, what's your story, Vic?" "Huh, well I was in scouts. You mean, how I got into, rough sex?" "Scout master?" "His wife," I nodded. "Dommy mommy." She nodded back. "No, no kids." Shrug, "I guess that's why Chief got into scouting, so he could raise boys. He wasn't sexual, with any of us." Not that I know of. "Hang on." She got out her phone, spoke to it. "Call home." Held it up to her ear. ... "You decent?" Listened, nodded, "Picked up takeout." Glanced over to me. "Pack my bitch up. We're gonna take a hike." "Who's that?" "You know any good trails around here?" "Yes," of course. "Who was that?" "So, you're molested by the scout leader's wife." "No, I. It wasn't like that, we just. Well, she just." "Dominated you?" In a word? "Yeah. Sexually." She said bitch. "I like that, uh. I guess you could say I had a dommy mommy too. She didn't molest us either, but she wore the pants in the family." "Covert incest?" "No, I told you." "Ah ah!" She held up her hand, "Sexual harassment. She doesn't have to touch you, just expose you to nudity, maybe pornography, masturbae or have sex where you can see her, or hear her." "Yeah," okay, "She was kind of loud." "And got you into Scouts." "How'd you know?" "To expose you to another child molester. She didn't want to abuse you, so she found other boys, another predator, it's called victim exchange." "Oh," actually explains a lot, "How do you know all this?" "It's a long story, now do you like being gagged?" "I don't think so?" "Then shut the fuck up." "Yes, maam." I looked down, but smiled a little. I still don't know why, I like it. Even with all that, I just do. A take-charge woman, to fuck me. Not to fuck her, being fucked by a bitch. Dominated, humiliated, she mentioned Bondage. I never was tied up, but. I like the way it looks. Momma made me grab my ankles, spanked me, I didn't like it. Then mistress Simone made me sit on my hands, or jerk off watching her, then pleasure her when I was done. That sort of thing, but it wasn't like being molested. She didn't olest me, I loved her. Then she let me go. "Hihn!" She put on some music, Prodigy, Fat of the Land. The one with Breathe on it, but skipped ahead to Mindfields. Tapped the steering wheel. I looked back at her hair, dyye black, I think, but with red hilights. Not redhead, or ginger red. Neon red, like the lady at the porn shop, but she's a lesbian. Shame though, the's mean. Not really nasty, just. I don't know, maybe because I'm a guy, but with suck distain, I felt like a puny mortal, not fit to kiss the cum stained ground she walked on. I assume, she works in a video-store. With fetish wear, bondage, a sex toys. Viewing rooms in back, but if she made me, I'd suck the crusted scum off the benches back there. I'm not gay, at all. That's the point, that's why I like pegging. It's humiliating, feminizing, make me her bitch. I bet she's got a strapon. "Yeah." "What part of shutthefuckup didn't you understand?" I hunched, my head lower, and she gripped the back of my head. "I asked you a question, Answer Me!" "Yes, mistress, I'm sorry mistress, I won't do it again!" Until I want some attention. It's called topping from the bottom, pushing boundries, but you don't know them until you run into them. Unless she tells me, but she doesn't talk much. I just sat on my hands, and crossed my legs. Hard, but I want blue balls. I like them, they just make it better when I get off. ; To: TetraTet@TakeOutVideo&News.Com CC: DjCromeMollyBach@Sykospark.Net Re: Liggetti String Theory I reviewed the video, and yup, that's a Liggett. Pretty sure. Probable explanations for the lack of detectable Neuronano: Post-possession artifact, does she have a child, most likely a daughter? Another we've been pitching around the clubhouse is the theory that AH learned instinctual programming from DieMorion, along with the partial Desiokrates reflex map. So, she may be reproducing Liggetti by serial birth. That may match up with similar sightings by your sisters in other areas, as well as the one eliminated from downtown Fort Worth. The remote plausibility is an archival affect. Her stories are still out there in Newsgroups, as well as ASSTR, and rapestories reposts. The siting was in a smut-shop. So, there is a remote chance that she simply read one or more, and decided to play the part. Command: {Tag&Trace} just keep watching, I'm sending your Matriarch. She's equpped to handle these, you are not. Just keep watching, and waiting for her to take care of it/them. Sincerely, XelsiS.] / [Molly Re: Backtracks Front 242 - Strobe (Still&Raw EP) You're welcome.] \ Molinja "Huh!" Checking the traffic schedules again, I stepped between the tracks, put down mi visor, and closed my eyes. Reaching out to feel the forged steel bars, not much rail traffic any more, and it's predictable. Staying out of plausible visibility is another thing, but if some redneck sees me, go bye, let them try to sell someone. Hope you like anti-psychotics, buddy. "Whhoooh!" I can't fly, but maglev? "Yeah," I can do that. My boots lifting off the tie, and balance on my spinal antenna. Carefully twist my hands, adjusting the frequency cascading into the sympathetic coils in my palms, and open my eyes. "{Telemetry.}" 20 MPH, my legs start pitching up, from drag, 30... 40... 50... Leveling parallel, ballance on a horizontal tripod of 3 lines. 60, 70, 75. WHOOOOOOOM! Arm coils perpendicular, and locked in, I take the curve like I'm on rails. Instead of approximately 3' over it, 60-80pmh is about as fast as I want to go until the straightaway, but there I can wind up to about 120, before braking for the next bank. Okay, I can fly, where there's a way. "HAHAHA!" It's a lot of fun! At this point it's just "WTF wuzat!?" velocity... Takes several hours to make it cross-country, especially with the Continental Divide in the way. There is no straight shot, but all kinds of near abandoned lines to take. Besides, all they'd catch was a frame of my armor if they did manage to snap off a lucky shot, if they had speed cameras on back county rail-lines. The black ties, and light bands of gravel just blurred to grey below me, my arms are getting tired, but I'm almost there. "Hhh," now's the scary part, not braking, but coming to a stop. In a word, momentum. Nothing but more rail, straight on 'till dawn, and there's a hiway coming up. "Hhhhh, upHughpdpdpdpdpdpdp!" "Uhn!" Always biff the landing, wind up halfway over one of the rails. Checking my ribs, no broken bones, but I need better armor. "HunH!" Get up, walk it off. "Aahn!" Stretch, and twist, loosen up my back. "Huh!" Train coming soon, better get out from under this overpass, and see if I can catch a ride. Take off my helmet, try to smile. "Huph!" Look up, {Genres: Country/Folk Grateful Dead - Casey Jones (Jackhammer Chamber Ensemble Remix) Haven't worked on this one in a while...} "BrdndnDNOWwnnnnnn!.." Drop the thumb, and pop the finger. nlm, "Same to you fucker!" Next! I don't like what I did with the baseline, skip ahead to the bridge... Strip the bass track from Truckin'? Amend tracklisting to a (DjCMB Mashup.) "Ope!" Pick up my helmet, and jog to catch up. "Where's your bike, little lady?" "Uh! Ditched it it a few miles back." "You all right?" "I'll heal, mostly my pride got bruised." "Well, where you headded?" "Tacoma." "Whelp, I'm headded as far as the track." "What you got in the toy toter?" "Funnycar, where'd you get them leathers?" "Skuffsuit." I brushed down the ceramic studs. "These" clacking against the ferocerramig palm plate, "Reduce friction on pavement, so I can just skid out instead of rolling." Doesn't seem to work on railroad ties. "Swiszchftß!" He whistled between his teeth. "High tech shit, man!" Idaho, whatchagonna do? "That radio work?" I looked up... {Danzig - Soul on Fire} "They never play this one on the Radio!" "I know, right?" "You smoke?" He pulled out some bud. Right, "Want me to twist one up?" Washington. Even east bumfuck Washington, I held the flap with my pinkies, and ring fingers, sheared the buds apart with my nails, and folded a corner of the paper. "Snh?" Yup, Washington. ; Max {FM NS CP Snuf Talk. Incidentally, NS means No Sex between the principals, while CP, and Snuf means sexual/violent action in the video, or Talk about it. Trigger warnings still apply, just from watching this kind of stuff. The rabbit hole only goes deeper, know when to stop. This is Horror, that someone out there might actually get off on: For W.} So, I watched her, pregnant woman, wedding ring on her finger, just looking at the titles. After a while, you start to recognize the signs. Most people wouldn't expect a middleaged housewife - that's her minivan parked out front - to even be in a sleazy smut shop in the first place. She cost me customers, the typical hard-up men take one look at her, and don't even let the door swing shut before they take off. DING! "Huh!" Shake my head. Mom, she's got mom written all over her. But, when you scratch the surface, actually look past the first impression, then you get down to the nitty gritty. What she looks at, sure toys. You can get those online too, as well as fetishwear, bondage ropes, and SM whips. A lot more anonymously than coming out to the sleasiest shop in town. By a long shot, we're getting our asses kicked by the internet, so what brings a housewife, obviously unconcerned about money, here instead of shopping online? Well, for one thing, she gets off on it. DING! She turns back, feeling her engorged baby gut, plays it for the door. "Uhhhh," all a sudden, he remembers he left the stove on. DING! "Hahaha," it's funny, but I'm losing money. "You looking for something special?" She turns, points.O Looks around. "Me?" "No, I was talking to the blowup doll." "Well," she keeps looking around, as if there might be a pervert hiding the carousel of story books. "Now that you mention it, why is it called Backroom Video if you don't have a Back Room?" "Well, other than the viewing booths, it's more a metaphorical Back Room, from the old video-stores that used to have them for the X-rated stuff." "Yes, of course." She remembers the days of Blockbuster runs, before every Mac Donald's had a Redbox outlet.. "Well, I couldn't help but notice that you've run out of titles, you like." "Huh! I'm a porn addict, you get that, right?" "Yeah, I've seen a few. If you don't mind me asking, why here, instead of online?" "Well," she put her arms up on the counter, "For one thing, my husband." She turns her wedding band/engagement set, "He's actually, pretty vanilla. I tried, to get him to experiment a little, but he just loses the mood." Or the wood, as the case may be. I nod, understanding. "You having trouble finding what you want even online?" "How'd you guess?" "Well, lately the FBI has really been cracking down, which is good for business, but also raised the demand for, the sort of thing, I can't advertise. Out on the floor. Would you like to sit in one of the booths. For a little while? I'll show you a free preview." "Of what," she lowered her voice. 'sick stuff?' "Depends on what you call sick." I leaned in. "Chill." I nodded. That is an old, old old old term. Online, often spelled ch!ll, to beat 1st generation search algorythms. Older than Google. For childporn. "Sure," I knew it. You have to hang around perverts day in, and out for a few years, but after a while you learn to read between the lines. She was subtle, started off softcore. Like Pissy Missies, Tied Teens Tickling, Sugar Britches, lolita fantasy stuff, but progressively hardcore. Damsels in Distress, kidnap fantasy. Rape fantasy, Gaspers... "You have anything in 8mm?" Not the format. I swallowed, nodded. Seriously. "Just a lot of old stuff." "How old?" "Twenty years, and older." "I was thinking something," she stepped back to cradle, and rub her tummy. "A little more recent. Say, the last 3-5 years." Or the first. Not newer, Younger. "Well, you have to understand, 8mm is an old format. I can't get anything like that, so. Recent." If you don't know the language let me translate: Child Snuff. Toddlers. That is one seriously sick, and twisted mommy! "But I'll see what I can do." I unlocked the safe. "Booth 4." Reached through the false back, and unlocked that door from the inside. Oh yeah, totally a metaphor. Warning, this is Illegal. It's illegal, because it's wrong, and some people are just wired that way. [Thorpe.] Labeled, there's a pile of tapes back there, in the corner of the counter, because if they make it that far they're already pretty sure what they're looking for. That means they have my keys, and I probably gave up their location because I'm in their custody. Why it's a keylock, with tumblers on both sides, and an other, different key for the safe with a second hidden door. Good luck picking that lock, elbow deep in a steel safe too small to fit your forearms in, with 2 rifle picks. Security for your security, I used to be in Security. It's like lube, can't have too much, and incidentally another reason for VHS. The huge electomagnet imbedded in the bottom of the Faraday Cage shieled cubby, to wipe them clean as a baby's bottom if we get raided. Thorpe was a sadist, you want it rough? Hasn't gotten any rougher since he dropped off the scene. She's getting settled in, waiting patiently, so I started at the beginning. Ironically transferred from 8mm, no snuff, but he really hates that dark little oriental kid he had in his basement. Probably still is a sadist, in prison, he got caught. This is an old one. Had some friends over, for a Bukkake party. Dressed him up in a Kogal uniform, makeup and everything, and I mean big clown circles on "her" cheeks, then the mascara running, crying and sobbing while 4 guys got off on it. They payed him, right on camera, and left. Then back down to the basement. The dungeon to pull up his skirt, his panties down. Cigarette burns just to get it up. No sound, but a mirror set up. Just to see his face, bent over like that. His screams. She just watches. Doesn't even make a move to touch herself, not even her tits. Just watches, smiles occasionally, nods. Can't really tell if she's even turned on, but, she's not turned off. She frowns when it ends, and gets up. I stop the tape, there's more, but she comes right out, and damn it, there goes another customer with his tail between his legs. DING! That's 3. In the last hour. She leans over the counter. "That wasn't bad. But, you got anything harder?" A little closer to the microphone. Business has been rough lately, and I do a little blackmail on the side. "Not much." I admit. "Well, want to buy some?" She slid a tape across the counter. I slid it back. Nothing on the label but a phone number. "Sure, I'll take a look." DING! Finally she got out of my store. She's bad for business, just standing around like every desperate perv's nitemare. Of getting walked in on by their wife/mother. It changes, from guy to guy, but not all that much. She knows it. She is that wife/mother. I was right. Toddlers, pregnant, incest. And snuff. Not really my kind of thing, but I know some guys that might be interested. I'll make a few calls, but it's all cut up, in flashes. Teasers, not enough to really get off on, but a statement. "This is what I'm capable of." I thought she was a sick momma, even I had no idea, and she appears to have a partner. A black girl, also pregnant. Also just as sick as she is. DING! Stop the tape, back to business. At some point you think you've seen it all. Take it from me, you haven't. Turned out to be a pager. Good, she knows the number. She'll call back... ; Molinja (C/f NS CP Snuf. Cf Cybe Solo. That first C is for Cyber, also {Cyber}masturbation in this one.) He locked the door. 24/7, flipped the BRB sign over the ID window. "Smoke break?" I grabbed my pack. He dropped the moneybag on the counter, didn't take off his security pistol. Out back, I held the door, and kicked the brick in the way. So it didn't close, and automatically lock, at the end of the hall between the viewing rooms. "I think I found what you're looking for." He blew smoke out his nose. Handed it over for a drag, I shrugged and tucked mine unlit back in the pack. "That bad?" I could tell. Anything that can make him visibly sick. "You didn't say, black or white? I don't really have any other options in stock." "Interracial?" I shrugged, "I don't really believe in race." I handed it back, so he just wandered off. Left me the tape. So, I went back in, tucked the deposit back in the safe, and left the tape on top of it. Then, I leaned over the counter to unlock the door, and flip the sign back. In Business. Okay, I don't care as much about the action as the people behind it. Their story, I'll try to get, but who's making these movies. That's who I'm here for, all I have is alternative history versions of them. The Undernet, never even got started this time around, but those people. The ones that owned the BBSes, the dedicated lines, they didn't cease to exist. Some of them just went even more underground. I turned the main monitor around, popped in the unmarked tape. Recording tabs still intact, took a deep breath. They didn't conspire before, in the Atrocity Wars, not with cybernetic and hereditary entities that didn't exist yet. I don't really understand it, but I have to keep my memories separate from the ones I had downloaded. Remember that Billy Young was killed by his pseudosister, Connie in this one. Before she even founded FTCI, or coined the term "Atrocity Wars." She's only 12 right now. Shake my head. Packing it all in, as many fetishes as possible to appeal to a wider audience of jaded perverts. 2 pregnancies means you can have a middle aged soccer mom, looks like. And also have a teenaged racial stereotype. All there, in black, and white. DING! Just turn off the monitor. Put my hand on top of the VCR, and feel the magnetic reader. Passively, don't want to burn out the magnetic tape, yet. "Huh!" Messy house. "I'm so glad you could take them on such short notice." "Da's extra yaknow." "Yes, here's an extra $50." She just tucks it in her bra. The door closes, behind the camera. Look up, he's still cruising the Twink dating mags. "Huh," "Delante, take out the boys. Get dem something nice." $100.00, he looks maybe 12, give or take a year for onset of puberty. Boys of all ages, or 4 of them. "Cummon," Treasure. Youngest still in diapers, and barely walking. "So, whatchu gerls wanna do, t'day?" "Watch a movie!" White one, maybe around 7-9? Smiles, all her adult teeth, doesn't look like a drop of puberty yet. Her little sister, somewhere around 3-4, just looks up from her, nods. "Long's 'taint Frozen." She shudders. "Oh, we brought one." VHS from the diaper bag. "Stah! They gone watch a movie." She came out picking at her hair, yawn and stretches, smacking her mouth. In a pair of panties. White cotton, obvious development in her chest. So, maybe 9-11? "Whatzis?" She chucks her head. At the TV, not in view. "Just a little snuff we made." [Stop] "Uh." Flip the mags over, check the prices. "Let's see." All free, trade mags. Roll my eyes up, rewind the CCD footage. "How about the one under your jacket?" I pointed. Snapped my fingers. "That'll be $8.99." His closet, I Don't Care! Okay, obviously a bondage bottom, ISO bears, trying to watch a bunch of kids showing eachother snuff tapes. "Thank you, cum again!" ~A. Nahasapeemapetilon. "Huh!" Watch the tape again. Better just not put it onscreen, so switch the monitor back to the exterior security feeds. "GHN!" Thankfully the TV is out of frame, I can just hear the wet spatter, and crunch of bone. And see the reaction. "Haha!" Pulling her fingers out to point. "You know dat's right!" She just looks back, licking her lips. Smiles, then turns back to the swollen wet nipple. The toddlers, just 2 backs. Watching. Sitting down, ignoring the brutal, blunt, pulpy sounds from the TV behind them now. My eyes are already closed, I can just take my hand off of the reader, or stop watching, but I have to see how bad it's gotten. Blunt force trauma. Got that, beaten to death. "Where'd you get her?" "Just some girl, from the playground." "I gotta piss." The white one just grinned, and lay down. For her barely pubertal lover to straddle. Look up at the white cotton triangle, darken, start soaking through, and turn transparent. "Hnhh, yeh." {Police/FBI Database Missing Persons Reports Last 48 hours Age: <12 Sex: F Search...} "Hhn!" Just nodding, licking her lips, and opening her eyes. Feeling up the young dark brown thighs to slip down the stark white, still dripping underwear. "Yeh," just scooches a little, her feet under her shoulders to sit down. "Snh, smqmak! Sliph!" "Huh, yeh!" Grabbing her hair, to pull, and grind harder. {Locality: +50 Miles Search...} "Poddy." The toddlers turn to eachother, and nod. "Huh!" Sure could use a customer to distract me. I'm not asexual. Nor a pedophile, but I'm Immortal. Just counting all the memories sequentially, about 200 years total. Age is a moot point, with mortals. No, the problem is I have a type, and there's 2 of them. Predatory girls, Nepiophiles, and serial killers. Watching snuffporn, and going at it like plain old lesbos right in front of their little sisters. I don't have to stick my hand down my pants, nor take anything off. Just send some nanites down there, to tingle, and trigger reflexive contractions with myocortical electrolysis. "Hahn!" What? I'm a nerd! Cybersexual, deal with it. "Smqsliph!" "Yeh! Fuckyeh!" "Uhn!" Ripple up my PCM to pull at the top, where it's rooted under my clitoris, and start quick spastic twitches. "Nhm?" Bite my lip, "Nmhhhhh!" Look ma, no hands! "Hmhhihihm!" The little ones, diapers off, rolling around, giggling, tickling, sneaking kisses between kicking legs like the yin trying to rape the yang. In the puddle they left in the middle of the floor. Just so, casual about it. This is like, a regular day for them. "Hahhhhhn!" Just cut the neuro-nano, and ride it out. So the orgasm will stop, before I pass out from the feedback loop spiraling up out of control. "Ngh, hn! Hihhhhh, huhhhh! Snhhhhh!" Catch my breath. I still have work to do, so pop the tape out, and take back the mags that fag tried to take. "Free 99." Shake my head. The nature of the business, no rest for the wicked. I can finish the tape later. Nothing on the search, so she probably lied. An old one, go back further, spiral out from there to find the victim. ; Inter-Mission: ; Molly (Cfg NS) I'm gonna need backup. "Hey, you're satanist, right?" "Something like that, goth?" She guessed. "What gave it away?" I felt out the black spiked tips I had grown out the side. "Where'd you get those hilights?" "Sun-bleached them," died the tips black. "I'm Asknazi. Jew? Yeah, my grandparents met fleeing across the steppes of Russia." "Oh, it grows like that?" "No, it grows brown, like this?" The underside, "The sun bleaches it out to shew the ginger recessive." "Oh, cool." "I know, right? So, you into serial killers?" "I know one!" "Yeah?" I know. "I heard it was satanists." I looked around. "You into that?" "Satan? Not a fan." Shake my head, "Seriously." "Why not?" "Fucking deadbeat, it's a long story, all right?" "Hahaha! You know that's right!" "You want to go play around?" "What do you mean, play around." "Here," take off my backpack, "Take a look at this?" "Is that a hatchet?" "Yeah, Pisce-Poli, you want to go play with it?" "Where'd you get that?" "A friend of mine made it." {Danke', Allojer. Bitte sehen.} "It's enchanted." "Get out!" "No, really. Finest Muldenhi runesteel." "Sounds like fantasy." "Fantasy, horror, science fiction. Whatever, these days." "So, you write stories." "No, just make it up as I go along, I got an active imagination. Hey look." A piece of plywood. Look around. "Watch this." I pulled it out to the Cinqueda on the other end of a short length of motorcycle chain. LINK! It straightened out on the way over, and I lunge-stepped in, overhand. The fishtail blade stabilized it until the T cross-section slightly incurved blade sank into the board like the pick of an Ice-Axe. THOCK! My back leg side stepped, so I could follow-through with a feint-stab the other way, and kick back to yank the point back out, the board flopped off the other way. "Killer!" It flapped down in the dirt, and I hung the bottom of the Pisce on my shoulder, pulled the chain tighter on my hip, and let the sword hang down next to me. "I'm a super-hero. I kill serial killers." "Oh." "Run." She finally got the point. Good, away from town, so I don't have to corral her. Tried to ditch me, dogs barking, gets to the tree-lot. I don't know, looks like they cleared it out, and abandoned it enough for the pines to recover, younger saplings out by the road, hope she doesn't make it as far. Not as much metal around, but shielded signal. From the neuronano, so one of them has learned that now. "Liggett?" She stopped, no intention of taking this to the road. "Molinja." "Molly?" "Among others, haven't you heard, now we come in 4 packs?" "Of course not." She stood up, diamond ring lariotte, and neck kerambit. Knows she's outgunned. "You want to fight it out?" {You don't.} "Eugene?" "Nope, Mjolinja. You're a Liggett." Pretty sure. "How about we do unarmed, you know, play around?" "Trade you weapons?" "You'Uh?" Dodged it, but the sword missed the sapling, the Pisce caught it and it swung around before it wrapped. She tucked the knife back in it's sheathe, and the wire coiled back in her pocket. "All right." Took her time unwrapping it, tried it, back grip, and swinging the sword blade verhand, but didn't know how to guide-it. I slapped the flat, and held it, magnetically to my palm. Didn't even need my fingers, just had to hold them out of the way. The sympathetic coil in the blade snapped into place, and her fingers locked, electrically to the handle. "Mine," I back-stepped, sidestepped, and rolled out of it. {Trebuchet!} Bitch. I released her hand at the apogee, and she had to grab some saplings on the way down. PICT! It stuck in the dirt. {I don't want to fight. You.} Command: <Return) She got the point. I hung it coiled back over my shoulder, loading up a Morion, and quick-coding a Command: (Crash&Burn.Exe> ; Morion (C/c WORMnem Hack Snuf NS) I can only obey. i can only obey Her!? "Yes, Master." <Turn Around) "As you wish." i'm a puppet. ? ! She holds me in a full Nelson, and as the coils energize, I feel them. {What are You doing?} i autocorrect the pronouns. ? ! {Yes, you are Mine.} ! ? "Hhhhhhhhhhhuh!" <Crash&Burn) "Uh?" pulled through the blood to her heart, i Pulse, defibrulating it, then magnetically coast through the Pulminary Artery. What is this? {ATripodField.} Why is she {ThinkingSoFast? YourTimscaleisDilating.} What? {IAmErasingYou.} Why is it taking so long? {BecauseI'mReadingYou.} o h , <Reboot/LLF/Defragment.) / . [To: Flowers@Razorwire.net. From: DjChromeMolly@Sykospark.net Incoming! Attachment:] ; Morion (Cfmort. NS Holo.) "Your time has come." I looked over at Mama Molly. Nodded. "A storm is coming. Our storm." She winked. {~Paul "Muad Dib" Harkonnen-Atreides.} "And when it arrives, it will shake the universe." She glanced up, "Oh!" {Black Sun Empire...} "Not bad." {...Arrakis.} Back at the road. (Crash&Burn.Exe> I nodded. Friday night, but shrug. They served their purpose. "Not the only nerd here." Just a little more AD&D than Cyberpunk 2020. Just a guess, "Mjoldin?" AKA Zeus, Jupiter, Wotan, Raiden... "Had some business down in LA. Got a tot to drop off back at school when we're done." "Function?" "God." "Oh." Think, "Storm God." "That's just a. 'n aspect. Like camoflage." Her tattoos rippled, and shifted. She shrugged, "Global warming, unprecedented typhoon rolling up the coast from Catalina Island to the sound, but so was Katrina." "That was him?" "Noho. Still under the radar at that point, but after that, they decided to just start over a new Almanac from scratch. Sandy, that was Him." Never met, "Chaos?" "Oh, no. He's gone. Closer to. Um. Aether?" "Son of Erebus, and Nyx." "Close enough, those myths were written before this Pantheon." "I am Nemesis." "Yeah," she patted my shoulder, "I know." "Hubris." "Satanists. Pretty much their creed." "Up here." She doesn't know the way, never been. "What's the plan?" "No survivors?" "Genocide." "Well, Holocaust." "Good," haven't had a good Holocaust in centuries. "Other than that, why I loaded you. It's what you're good at. I'll handle any others involved, you just wipe out the Mortals." "All right!" rub my hands together, "You need the pisci-poli?" Would have preferred a Doppledecades, or Leiderline Estocenspeer. "Nope." She pulled the handbrake. "I'm good." Got out, and pulled a couple Cinquedea from the back. Runesteel, I could feel it in her hands, the fields energizing while I hung, and wrapped the Picse over my back. "Trebuchet." This time I handed her the sword end, and stepped back for her to jump, pull the slack taut, and roll out of it. Just jumped into the swing over, and she released it to trail after me. To the rock, I flipped to retract the flexible weapon, like a boarding axe with a short sword hanging from the end of the flat chain, landing in a crouch. "HIRENI!" I straightened up. {Darkstep} She disappeared from all radar, and I made out her silhoette at the edge of firelight fading as she turned completely black. "Bout time you showed up." I tipped my helmet up like a stetson. "Huh!" I shrugged off the Pisce, let it fall back, and stepped in as it swung past my leg, pulling it over my shoulder and jerking up so the short stock swung it, to uppercut him right under the sternum. "CHUGH!" He fell back, but I just let him pull me, jumping forward to swing out, up side down, bringing my knees over to catch a turning back, and slam him face-down into the dirt. The blade jerking out, and up enough to throw my sword back, and swing out, horizontal, backflipping out to take a head, and swing into another's side. Straight through his arm at the elbow. "PWANG!" My hand autoparried a bullet, someone brought a pistol. "Huh." Straighten up. "At least fight back." Jerked the blade out with a side-step... Clink! Twist to follow through, the links slipping through my hands, switching end-to end. "NGAH!" He drops it, falling to his knees, but the chain bends sideways, and I jump, kick flipping over to split his forearm, freeing the blade to quarter-turn, stabilize, and wrap over the next fleeing back. "Huh!" Landing, he stops, his legs kicking out to fall back, while I jerk him to shoulder-plant, and free the Pick from his sternum, sweeping for my next target. Another boring holocaust... {Arsenal Notes: Allojer here, a Doppeldecades is a double 2 handed shortsword. Each blade is triangular, 10 fingers wide, with a deep ferule to brace against the forearms and block, like small shields. There's quillions between the 2 grips/riccasso, but no other protection for the hand/s than the wielder's own reflexes. Pisce/Poli refers to the head, a fishtail (Pisce) ax blade, and an opposing point (Polis) to swing stably, point first. Typically with a short stock for leverage, and something on the other end for balance. (In this case a Cinquedea, just Google that) Generally a flat/flexible flail to wrap over a shoulder, around a shield, or what have you, and pierce armor. Unblockable, armor piercing, gamebreaker in the Pike/Musket formations of the early Rennaissance. A leiderline Estocenspeer is an Estoc (2 handed Stiletto) with a length of cable, ending in a knot with a weighted ball for balance, or a flexible Pike. (May have a short stock for a "Flying Mace.") All created by Allojer for Morion, and her pirates, to take back the Archepelagos, Morea (The Greek Peninsula) and Crete from the Ottoman Turks, and Venizzi invaders/punish them for Hubris/Genocide. Runesteel is iron circuitry in a diamond substrate, the basis for Enchanting (Solid state electronics) weapons. Allojer is basically a Utility program, for Smithmagic, wife of Mjoldin on Hermes (Long story) and forgotten Forge Goddess of the Muldenhi.} ; [Aethir.net Re: Ribbons So, according to the mnemonic dump from your Liggett, Morion is in fact twinning. The male zygote was to produce testes, and Genophages, to virilize the mother, and the Liggettes, secreted in nursing. That's probably why they're so fast, and strong, even without neuronano. Sorry to hear he got away, but GTK you took out the Sex Cult, and recovered the nano. I just dropped off Sadie at daycare. I should be there in a couple hours to help you deal with the mothers. LOL, excellent choice of music, as usual, so here's one from your daughter program: Grausame Toechtor - Zukunvision (Alles fur Dich) CU soon ;]