From: Edwin Gay <email@example.com> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: TG:"What goes around..." (Magic trans rape) Date: Fri, 21 Oct 94 20:01:57 -0500 Organization: Delphi (firstname.lastname@example.org email, 800-695-4005 voice) Lines: 409 Message-ID: <BE-UKZN.email@example.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.