Ranma Saotome in
Everything Goes Martial Arts:
	    Time Enough For Lust
Chapter 2:



A Lemon (eventually)
	Please note that I do not own any of the characters decribed
within the scope of this text. Any original characters depicted
later in this story I grant use to any party, as long as I am
credited for their origin.
 	Ranma 1/2 belongs to Takahashi-sama, Shogakukan Video, Viz
Communications, and Shonen Sunday Comics.
	La Blue Girl is owned by Maeda/Daiei Co.ltd and Central Park
Media.
	Do the right thing, buy the stuff. It's good for you.

	I heartily endorse this Service and/or Product.
	(a quote from 'SHOGUN' a member of 'Unit F')
		(author points to a Ranma 1/2 Volume #1 VHS box)

			   **WARNING** 
	This is a lemon(ideally), and as such will contain various
scenes where body fluids are interchanged with excessive vigour,
and I don't mean spit! 
	Let's put this another way: This story is intended to contain
scenes of intense sexual description. It will also depict more
than the casual amount of violence. It may scar some sensitive
people with the use of strong language.
	If you are under the age of majority(i.e. not an adult) Please
stop reading this now. If you are offended by stories or movies
that describe or depict sexual acts or violence, stop reading. If
you hate warning notices: get over it.


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


  "Man, next time Mom wants me to get somethin for her, I'll
bring a truck."
  Ranma labored under the weight of a great many bags of
groceries that he had just purchased. It wouldn't be so bad if it
wasn't for the rainshower that hit him, er her, on the way to
town.

       <"Ranma, would you please go to town and pick up a 
     couple things for me?" 
        "Sure Mom, no prob."
        "Here," she said, handing him a wad of money and 
     a list as long as his arm.>

  "That'll teach me." Ranma just shook her head.
  "The house has got to be around here somewhere," she said as a
tingle ran up his spine, causing gooseflesh to erupt all over her
female body.
  "Somethin ain't right here." she looked around for a bit, but
saw no sign of a distressed soul.
  Then she heard it. It was soft, as if it travelled a good
distance, or was quietly said.  A simple "No" was spoken, the
trees distorting the sound to almost nothing. Yet it was enough
for Ranma to make a decision.
  Her burden was momentarily forgotten as she quietly made her
way through the forest. She was not heard, but used by no means a
slow gait. Sometimes being a girl was an advantage.
  She saw a shallow light ahead of her, and paused behind a tree.
He listened for the voice again, but didn't hear any words. There
was some faint wet sounds, the occasional dull thud, and a
muffled whimper.
  (*There shouldn't be anybody here! It's just Mom and me. Maybe
it's a bunch of guys livin here in the year since Mom's been
here. Naw, I would have run across'em. Whatever's happenin,
somebody don't like it. I guess I'm gonna have to stop it.*)
Steadying herself, she looked out into the light.
  *thud*

  Ranma could not belive it. It shocked him to the core. The
mountain of groceries spilling across the ground did not register
to his frozen mind.
  (*Some girl's being raped by an OCTOPUS!*)  he had to stifle
his thoughts so that he did not speak.  (*Hold on there Ranma,
you've fought Taro, you can deal with this. An OCTOPUS?*) he hit
himself on the head a couple of times, vainly trying to clear it.
  Grabbing a few tubers from the ground, he readied himself for
combat with the perverted squid.

  *Thwack*
  "HEY MISTER TATERHEAD! LEAVE HER ALONE! I'LL KICK YER SORRY
LITTLE ASS TO HELL!"
  *Thwack*
  "Hmmm. Another sheep enters the fold." It talked with many
voices, as if it came straight from Dante. 
  Ranma pitched another tuber to it's skull, only to have it
blocked by one of many tentacles. (*Shit! I gotta get rid of
those things!*)
  "Hey Potato Head! Bet you can't catch me!" (*I know I'm faster
than this thing.*)
  The demon took the bait, knowing that once it touched the
taunting girl it could lay back and relieve itself, and her of
energy.
  Several appendages lanced toward Ranma, each meant to bind.
Striking for the limbs first, the beast was caught by surprise
when Ranma tied the first four together in the blink of an eye.
  "Just wait, my pretty prey. You will kneel before me tonight,
and cry out for my touch," it taunted. The girl's fear was an
aphrodisiac, and it was fully prepared to drink to the dregs.
  Ranma's hands burned from the brief contact with the demon.
(*Damn, I can't touch that thing without it hurtin,*) he lept
back to the spilled groceries. (*I don't have time t'fire off a
Ki blast. It ain't pumpin out power, so the Hiryuu Shoten Ha is
useless. I have t'get it with out touchin it.*)
  Ranma quickly emptied one bag, (*Salad Oil, lettuce, onions...
nah. Lets see here...*)
  "Yes!" Ranma grabbed the bottle and dashed to the side as three
tentacles speared her location. By now, the slime that Ranma had
touched started it's particular magic. 

  It was like a switch, once off, now on. His body, his cursed
female body, wanted sex. It didn't just want the 'Wham Bam Thank
you Bitch' that was the normal talk in the boys locker room. It
wanted SEX.
  (*God, damn! What _is_ that thing?*) Ranma shuddered violently,
trying to push the feelings away. 

  "Well, well, well. I told you, didn't I?" It casually reached
over to the fetal Ranma and picked her up by the head. A tentacle
wrapped around the throat, under the jaw, was the first of many.
Soon Ranma was supported by tentacles along the legs and waist. 
  "You are quite the young girl, aren't you." The deformed
humanoid brought Ranma closer. An appendage slid up one leg of
the pants.
  "Doesn't this feel so good? I know that you like it." Suddenly
the trousers were ripped off Ranma, her boxers exposed.
  Ranma tried to build her confidence, but she was overcome by
the female sensations running rampant through her body. (*OH!
SHIT!*)
  "NOOO! RAANNMMAAAA!" The other female figure shouted, her mouth
recently vacated by a disgustingly penile tentacle.
  (*mom?*) Ranma finally saw the face of the woman being held by
the beast. It was indeed her mother. She was trussed up by many
tentacles large and small, violated in ways that Ranma didn't
want to imagine.
  Fear: the mind killer. 
  Rage: the mark of an Animal. 
  Control: the thing only Man can posses.
  These three things brought Ranma out of the demon induced
stupor. She removed the top from the bottle in her hand, and
threw the contents at the beast's open eyes.
  The demon brought a hand up and easily deflected the plastic
projectile. The liquid continued on it's journey, unhindered by
the loss of it's container. Instantly the beast tightened it's
grip, crushing it's captives. It lost all control, writhing and
clawing itself. It lost the younger of the two females, and
bashed the elder into a nearby tree.
  "MOTHER!"

  Ranma lost his breath, all sense of reality gone to him. Only
one thing pulsed through his mind: IT HURT MOM.
  Ranma turned to it, his emotions showing by his aura. He drew
on his life force, focusing it through his emotions. He was lit
like a star gone nova, bringing his light to bear on the twisted
creature of perversion known as a Shikima demon.
  "Now, you die."

  Slowly he brought his hands together. His feminine hands, the
hands he hated, barely held the ball of ki as it formed. He
focused as much power as he could hold through those small,
cultured hands. Then, it was released.
  "RAGING DRAGON'S BREATH!"



  Ranma slowly became aware of the rain. It was on her skin,
pattering her conciousness and face alike. 
  "Hello," she sat upright, then immediately regretted it. After
spending a few seconds to get both her mind and balance under
control, she lurched to her feet.
  "Mom, where is she?" Then she spied her mother lying next to
the tree, where she was dumped unceremoniously. Ranma quickly
took note of her elder's condition.
  1) She was not bleeding.
  2) She looked whole, but a little uncomfortable.
  3) She had no shred of clothing on her.
  Ranma staggered over to her mother's side. Wearily, Ranma
reached out to her shoulder,"Mom, you O.K.?" she asked.
  Slowly, she came to. "Ranko, what are..." 
  Suddenly, her eyes popped open and she grabbed Ranma's hand.
"What did you see?" her voice urgent, allowing no room for
argument.
  Ranma blinked a couple times. "First off, Mom. I am not Ranko.
Second, I saw you gettin, well... attacked by a guy glued to an
octopus."
  The glaze on Nodoka's eyes lifted, only to be filled with
tears. She grabbed Ranma and buried her sorrow into the shoulder
of the young man turned girl.
  "Mom..." Ranma merely held the naked and sobbing woman, and
tried to assure her.
  A few graceless minutes passed, and Nodoka regained her sense
of calm. She no longer blindly clutched the young girl, and her
body had stopped it's convulsions. "Ranma, I am so sorry. Could
you ever forgive an old, foolish woman."
  "Mom, you ain't old. And I don't know what you think you've
been a fool for." Ranma's attempt to raise her mother's spirits
succeeded, but only a little.
  "Ranma, lets get back to the house. It is a little cold out
here." She stood up, not caring about her lack of clothes.
  "Mom, what was that thing? I mean, you do know, right?"
  "Ah, yes the grocieries. Come, let's salvage what we can."
  Ranma grabbed her mother by the arm. "Mom, you're scaring me,
here. Don't go closin up on me. It ain't good for ya." His
concern was clearly apparent by his voice.
  Nodoka closed her eyes, the weight of the world upon her
shoulders. Letting out a long sigh, "Ranma, I will talk later.
Now there is something that needs be done."
  "Mom, I'd just been put through one of the _worst_ things I'd
ever known. You acting like it's all nothin' just don't sit with
me," anger from being shut out colored her voice.  
  "Ranma. We will pick up the food, and return to the house. I
will tell you what happened there." She pulled her arm from
Ranma's tight grasp, and walked over to the groceries.
  (*Suuure she will.*)  


  The house now had an eerie feel to it.  It was the sole thing
lit in a small clearing, not unlike the Gingerbread House in
Hansel and Gretle.
  Ranma and Nodoka entered the house and set the sodden packages
on the island in the kitchen.
  "Ranma, thank you for your patience. We should get washed."
  Nodoka left the items on the counter, and walked the short
distance to the bath. She left the door open as am invitation tp
Ranma.
  "Mom, could you start talking now? Just what the hell happened
back there?" she asked as she entered the common room of the
furo.
  "That, Ranma, was a demon. It was only one of many breeds that
exist. I am only familiar with a few of their kind, but this was
one of the less savory variety. There is more going on than a
demon simply accosting a woman. 
  "That beast you destroyed was from the same realm as those that
killed my parents."
  Nodoka thought for a moment, sorting out her feelings. She
decided on the path that she would take, and asked her son,
currently a daughter, to enter.
  Ranma undressed and entered the main room of the furo uneasily.
'Her' body was still quite turned on, and his nipples were
standing at attention. He could feel the wetness between 'her'
legs, and was embarassed by the lack of control.
  Nodoka rinsed herself off, not reacting to the obviously cold
water or the blushing Ranma.  "Ranma, you probably will not
believe anything more tonight.  However, it is important that you
hear this.  My mother's clan practiced a bizarre, secret style of
martial arts.  It was designed with these demons in mind.
  "As you could no doubt tell, these demons are physically
stronger than humans. They tend to have extra limbs for both
offense and defense. On almost every level they are more
powerful. Mentally, magically, physically, spiritually. 
  "This race uses sex to control it's prey." she finished, and a
small quiet passed before Ranma could speak.
  "WHAT?! You've got to be kidding." Ranma exclaimed, being so
suprised that the soap popped out of her hands. She spent a
couple seconds trying to catch the bar before it landed on the
floor.
  "Ranma, what was it doing when you arrived?" she asked.
  "..." The red haird girl gazed at his mother. She blushed a
little more, and turned her head away.
  "The methods of the ninja sect that trained Mother involved
sexual arts. I saw you fold up after you touched those tentacles.
You were overcome with desire, the first physical response of
possession by these creatures."
  Nodoka continued, even though it was difficult, "It... It was
going to... to enter you, Ranma. It was flooding you with such
desire and passion to prevent your resistance. Even though you
hate your female body, you would have become a slave to those
sensations, and tp the demon as well."
  "Ma.. masaka.  What... what about you, Mom. It had you... I
mean... you were... It was..."
  "Ranma, I have trained myself in the art of Sexcraft. My
bloodline grants me powers greater than that beast. It was
attacking a trained ninja warrior, not an inexperienced child,"
she scolded her son turned daughter. Nodoka needed to pound it
into his head that this was _real_, and it wasn't going to go
away in the morning.
  "But... I beat the thing. I got it, didn't I?" she protested,
not wanting to believe that all this actually happened.
  "Ranma, your shock, then rage, caused you to overcome its
manipulations. That, and the vinegar you threw, allowed you to
kill it."
  Nodoka finished with her scrub for the evening, ending it with
the cool finality of water.  "The Art that you need to learn is
not just the 'secret ninja techniques' of hiding and killing. You
need to learn to control your libido. You must gain mastery of
your body and sex. I would say that you must do so in both forms,
if you cannot gain mastery of your curse," she lectured Ranma. 

  Ranma was finishing his cleansing, scrubbing a little harder
where the demon had touched 'her' body. He could not help but
notice the intense signals that his girl side was giving him.
While not as bad as the demon's full attack, Ranma still knew
that he had never felt more ready. The cold water rinse failed to
douse that fire.

  Nodoka stepped into the oversized bath, easily making room for
Ranma. Ranma shivered once looking at the water with a palpable
longing. "Come, Ranma, you must relax."
  "Mom, I ain't too comfy about this," Ranma defended herself.
  "Why?" she asked.
  "Hot water turns me into a guy," she said accusingly.
  "Ranma, we are family. I am your mother. Only your father
shares my bed. Not that he really deserves it considering his
absence." she ammended.
  After a minute's debate, Ranma shrugged her shoulders and
stepped into the bath, holding a hand towel in front. His form
grew almost a full head in height. His firey mane faded to black,
but still had some subtle red. The perky, yet full breasts
flattened to a rather muscular chest. His face grew leaner,
keeping the slight, soft curve of youth that made him look
oh-so-adorable.
  Since his arrival at the Tendos', he had changed only a little.
His male form actually gain a couple centimeters in height and
several kilos of pure muscle. The 'lady-killer' effect was
reduced, or maybe enhanced, by the persistence of baby fat that
softened the hard lines that formed his body.
  His girl form changed more than his male side. His breasts were
a little lower, set less as a teenager. They also gained a few
centimeters in size, giving his female body an almost perfect
hour glass shape. While he was very powerful as a girl, one
couldn't see it.
  However, at that moment, Ranma was less concerned with the
changes the last two years gave him as the more immediate curse
related transformation took effect.  He tried to hide his manhood
behind the washcloth. Given his state of arousal, it didn't help
much. 
  "FFFFffffffff..." he exclaimed, rearranging his legs to relieve
the pressure.
  "Is everything o.k., Ranma?"
  "No," he exhaled in a small voice. 
  "What's wrong?" his mother asked.
  "it's a... little embarassing," he said as he couldn't bring
himself to discribe his discomfort.
  "What...? Oh, my." Nodoka blushed at the suggestion, after all
this was her son.
  "I'll leave you to your own, Ranma. Please exit the furo before
you relieve yourself."
  She had turned away, glad for the moment that Ranma hadn't seen
her blush. She closed the door behind her, breathing a sigh of
relief.
  A sudden idea came to her, and she opened a closet across the
hall. In the back of the closet, she unsealed a hidden door. From
behind that door she pulled a small maroon bag. After she
replaced the false back, she returned to the outer room of the
bath.
  Ranma just could not believe this day.  After coming back from
the nearby town he found his mother, not just some random woman,
being raped by a warped man-octopus-demon guy. Then, on top of
that, he finds out that she was battling it using the arts of
Sexcraft that were taught to her by her parents.
  If it wasn't for the sex it could almost be a normal day at the
Tendo Dojo.
  However, Ranma had larger, more immediate problems. He was used
to the occasional overblown teenager hormone reaction to members
of the opposite sex. He was thankful that it was just girls in
his case. He had thought that with his ability to control ki that
he wouldn't have that problem. It actually got worse.
  It was true that his ability to harness ki directly affected
his power and speed in martial arts. However, it also made Mr
Happy become overly enthusiastic. Over the last year, just before
he had learned the Moko Takabisha, he was running around with an
everpresent erection, more or less.
  It was worse around Akane, so he often distracted her by his
infamous insults. He did mean them to be insults, a way to keep
her from him. He knew that those names hurt her, but they had
become habit before he realized that he did like Akane.
   He still needed to keep her off balance, so he continued to
insult her. He knew that she wouldn't understand his reaction,
and would accuse him of being perverted. It wasn't like he
thought of sex all the time, hardly ever in fact. Mostly around
Akane, or when he had 'wet' dreams.
  Right now, however, Ranma was suffering from the most severe
case of hormones he ever had. He was harder than he ever was, his
manhood felt like it was going to burst through the skin. He sat
in the furo with his knees apart to relieve some of the stress on
his groin.
  The inner door to the bath opened slightly. He looked over to
see a hand place a maroon bag inside the room, the shadow of his
mother on the wall inside. The hand retreated, and the door
closed.
  On the other side, Nodoka thought to herself, (*Ranma has every
right to be proud, but he may need to satiate a different
thirst.*)
  Momentarily distracted by curiosity, Ranma left the tub. He
moved somehat clumsily, his erection painfully swaying in front
of him. He bent over, the easiest thing to do at the time, and
picked up the bag. 
  He waddled over to the stool, and sat before opening the
package.  It was a good thing too, for he almost fell off the
stool when he saw it's contents. 
  Inside he found a few glassware jars.  Each bottle was a
different color, and each was filled with a gel or oil of some
kind.  They didn't even register on his mind. No, it was the
thirty centimeter jade phallus that he almost dropped.
  "That is a little more than I wanted to know." 
  Shaking, he put the green dildo back in the purse of pleasure,
and looked at the bottles. The glasware had some kanji on it, so
he selected the one labeled 'Man's Oil'. Opening it, he sniffed
the contents, wanting to be careful exactly what he put on his
body.
  It was a musky sent, tinted with a subtle undertone. After a
little, he likened it to his female body, when he was terribly
turned on.
  He applied a small amount of the oil to his hands and rubbed
them lightly to coat them. He hesitated for a minute, debating if
he really wanted to do this. His penis finally won over,
throbbing it's insistance to him. 
  Earlier, his member felt larger than normal. He now could tell
that it actually was. It was an couple centimeters longer and at
quite a bit wider. Being no stranger to the built-in-relief-team,
Ranma slowly stroked his enlarged manhood.
  The sensation was incredible. He applied more pressure on his
shaft to match the throbbing power within. Slowly he brought up
his tempo, bringing to mind the women that he had seen. 
  The images flashed across his mind. Ukkyo when he accidentally
groped her in the shed. Shampoo showed up many times, with
minimal or nonexistant clothes. A brief flash of Kodachi in her
leotard, before he quashed it. 
  He remembered the experiences he had while thinking about that
particular girl. Nothing in the world could disappoint Mr. Happy
faster than the thought of that insane cackle.
  He didn't want to play favorites, even in his imagination. So
he settled on safe territory, a girl from school that he had
seen. She looked a lot like A-ko from that wierd anime series. He
thought most of her body, how he would touch her, and she him.
  He imagined her standing in the locker room, only this time
without all the other girls. No one was there to stop him, and
boy did she want it. He reached up to her breasts and held them.
He stroked them slightly with his hands. His thumbs carressed her
hard, excited nipples. 
  She grasped his cock in her hot hand, stroking quickly and
gently. Not wanting to waste time, or else they might get caught,
she pulled on his cock, motioning him to the common bench.
  There she sat him down, with his monsterous manhood sticking
straight up, a flag pole waving its banner of excitement for her
to see. Ranma imagined her kissing him, leaving a wet trail from
his mouth, across his chest and down his stomach. 
  He felt her hot breath on his cock, her hand around the base.
Then slowly, ever so slowly, she parted her mouth over his prick,
her mouth gliding over the stiff tool. Ranma felt his manhood
throb even harder, pulsing from the unreleased sexual energy.
  Up and down, Ranma's oiled hand stroked, the imaginary A-ko
sucking him with great skill. Still it wasn't enough. 
  In his mind's eye, Ranma pulled the woman off him and gently
laid her back. He gently fingered the dream girl, asking her if
she wanted more. She whimpered her assent, wanting more than a
few fingers to please her.
  Still, his fantasy self stroked her sex lightly, asking again
if she wanted him. He teased her lips, making speech impossible.
She responded by thrusting her hips toward his fingers, wanting
more pentration.
  In his fantasy, he kept his calm. His hand covered her sex, his
palm on the lowest part of her belly. He pulled his middle finger
up her cleft to rest on her clit. 
  She let out a huge scream of passion, sure to draw the
attention of the entire school. He asked again if she wanted
more. Her breath returned, and she said yes. 
  He casually turned her around, and slid her down to the end of
the bench. He could see everything that she had to offer, a
pleasant sight indeed. She locked her hands to the bench in
preperation for the ride of her life, the Wild Stallion was about
to enter the barn.
  He took his position at the end of the bench, kneeling between
her upraised legs. Holding his pocket monster firmly in one hand,
he leaned forward to bring the tip to her crotch. He stroked her
cleft with his thumb, pausing over her charged bud of nerves.
  He pushed farther forward, parting her lips and entering her
most vulnerable hole. She gasped at its size, uncertain anymore
if it would fit. Slowly, as not to hurt her, the head of his cock
pushed into her slit.
  Rama paused after the first few inches, then pulled back. She
whimpered for more, begging for the fire hose between his legs.
He obliged her, pushing back in a little faster and a little
farther.
  She screamed out in joy as the well hung man pushed in and out
of her sex. Ranma pushed further each time, until he could push
no farther. 
  Ranma began to sway his hips, timing the thrusts to get the
maximum pleasure. She easily matched his tempo, rocking slightly
on the wooden plank, bringing him in a little deeper each time.
  Ranma felt a twitch in his manhood, and smiled. He knew it
would be over soon. He pumped a little faster, and the pressure
on his dick grew greater. He could feel the walls of her pussy
spasm as she began to cum, his thumb went into overdrive on her
clitoris.
  She completely freaked out, her legs wrapping around Ranma,
pulling him all the way into her. He could feel the back wall,
and still she wanted more. Her pussy gyrated over his prick,
sending waves of pleasure through his body.
  Ranma felt his balls tighten, and his entire world was focused
on the flesh that was between his legs. He pumped like mad,
trying to achieve the ultimate release. It was there, almost
there. Just out of reach.
  The throbing in his cock went deeper. His member grew in length
and width as he stroked faster and faster.
  (*akane....  *)


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  Many people of the Nerima district of Tokyo found this day a
typical early summer day. The weather was normal, being 'mostly
sunny with the occasional rain shower'.  
  The construction companies had their hands full with requests
for 'Routine Maintenance'. It was a term that they had learned to
dread. 
  A perverted old man had gone on a lecherous pilfering spree.
Screams of teenage girls and older women were heard, leaving an
audible wake from his passage. He was eventually slowed enough by
a man so the women could take revenge and their undergarments.
  A pair of resturant style martial artists duked it out on the
streets. They were competing for take out customers, eventually
causing a good deal of property damage with flour bombs and
strewn noodles.
  The evening was particularly nice. The sky settling in the many
layered hues of red, orange, blue, yellow, and purple. 
  However, even given all of this, there was one strange thing
that occured. It was one quirky happenstance that set the entire
day on edge. Ranma Saotome was not the center of it all.
  This was something that one particular girl enjoyed over all
other things. She felt free that day, having spent it with her
friends shopping for the summer and college.  She felt free of
onerous title of 'Ranma's Fiancee'. She was free of his influence
and his insults, his constant bickering.
  She, one Akane Tendo, felt happier than she had in a long time.

  In her hands were her purchases of the day. She had two
swimsuits, one was a conservative blue and gold racing one piece,
the other a rather skimpy two piece two-tone tan bikini that made
her look like an exotic pacific islander. Well, it could if she
got a tan.
  She also had the uniforms for her new school. A blue skirt and
blazer combo covered a white blouse and bow tie. The gym outfit
was similar to Furinkan's, but the shorts were cut higher. 
  During the shopping trip with Sayuri and Yuka, Akane discovered
how much she had changed in the last year. The girls were eager
to point out the differennces, much to Akane's embarassment.
  It wasn't that she had grown fat and lazy. Actually, she gained
about eight centimeters in height, and almost six kilos of
muscle. To her disgust, her bust had not gained size like the
rest of her.
  As a matter of fact, Akane felt every bit the tomboy that Ranma
had always said. She was a little shorter then her eldest sister,
but looked taller due to her lean build. Her face was angular,
but feminine. While she could never trully pass for a man, she
really didn't feel like a woman, either.
  She shook her head in disgust at her train of thought, she was
feeling so good. It seemed that Ranma could still spoil her mood
even while being absent. 
  Akane finally registered the magnificent sunset. It had gone
past the playful pastels where the sun was still near the
horizon, and displayed deeper tones of blue, red, orange and
purple. The sun was lost to the eye, making it easy to stare at
the day's end.
  Akane sighed as the voice in her head woke from it's respite.
She regretted that the scene was so short as she needed her
moments of peace. She streched mightily to release the tightness
in her muscles. She picked up her bag and continued on her way
home.
  Only halfway through the park she stopped, having heard a
female scream. She had heard of gangs accosting people in parks,
but never thought that she would run into them. She really didn't
worry too much about herself, she was a trained martial artist
after all. 
  That scream disturbed her though, and she decided to
investigate. The lamps in the park provided enough illumination
as she ran crosswise to the stone paths and potted trees.
  Adrenaline was pumping through her system, causing a sense of
euphoria and alertness. She stopped to look around, the sound of
the girl lost to her movements. Akane heard a weak whimpering
sound to her left, and leapt for it.
  She landed in a bush, it's branches and leaves scraping at her
legs and arms. 
  "WHO DARES?" cried an inhuman voice. Multilayered and piercing,
it almost caused Akane to loose her resolve.
  "Oh man! This is so embarassing!" a girl's voice whined. It set
a counterpoint to the bestial tones of the first.
  "PERVERT!!!" Akane screamed hefting her mallet, the packages
momentarily forgotten.
  "YOU ARE NOT MY PREY, LEAVE AND YOU MAY LIVE." the first form
intoned.
  "DIE!!!" Akane screamed swinging her mallet around wildly.
  "TOO LATE." The man reached out and swatted Akane away. "I'LL
DEAL WITH YOU SHORTLY." it said, turning back to the girl on the
ground.
  "Not if I have anything to say about it!" the girl cried, her
hands now free.
  The girl's fist shot forward, a slight glow of power to it. The
demon was caught in the face and his head snapped back. A second
strike started for his head, only to be caught by the demon's
free hand.
  "YOU WILL SUBMIT!" he cried to the nude girl as he continued
his ravaging of her body, Akane forgotten. A groan of pleasure,
or maybe a grunt of pain was the other girls only response  
  This proved a mistake. While Akane was not the most powerful of
all the known Neriman Martial Artists, no slouch was she. Akane
took half a second to get her bearings and take stock of the
situation.
  Righteous anger flowed through Akane's veins. She knew right
then that she would take down this weird molester. She would not
underestimate him again. She had given him fair warning, and he
chose to ignore her.
  Akane hefted her ubiquitous mallet, debating how to hit the
bastard. She couldn't use the 'Descent of Doom' manuver because
it would hit the girl. The 'Batter Up' was out because he was too
low, and he would only roll if she did hit him. 'Swinging Wildly'
only worked well on Ranma. 
  So, left with only one choice, she planted her feet so that her
left was near his shoulder, her right was near the girls
shoulder. The rapist was too busy to notice her movement. The
prone girl's eyes were furrowed, as if she was concentrating.
  Akane felt her rage build in her. Through it she gathered her
ki. The beast stopped his ministrations, sensing a great power.
  "FOOOORRRRRRRE!!!" the rapist snapped his head to look at
Akane, just in time to see the Mallet of Doom(tm) strike him in
the face.
  The girl, who was planning to use the higher levels of sexcraft
to best the beast, blinked at the sudden departure of her
opponent. 
  Above her stood a young woman, tall and lean with a short,
pageboy haircut. She was wearing a pair of electric blue running
shorts and a bright yellow tank top. The girl below Akane gawked
at the absolutely *huge* mallet that rested in a golfer's follow
through position.
  "That'll teach him." Akane stated, satisfied with the beast's
hang time.
  Akane promptly switched gears and asked the prone, mostly nude
girl, "Say, are you all right?". The girl blinked in response.
  Akane knelt down, looking into the girl's eyes, her mallet
forgotten. Putting her right hand on the girl's shoulder, she
repeated her question.
  "Are you O.K? What is your name?" Akane asked.
  "What? Who?" She blinked a couple of times and shook her head
to clear it. Her long, midnight tresses shaking slightly.
  "Sorry, my name is Miko Mido. I'm fine now, thanks."
  "What happened here? What happened to you?" Akane persisted.
  "Um... Er... Ummm..." Miko responded as she thought. She
couldn't tell her that she was attacked by a demon, or that it
had become commmonplace recently. 
  "I was running home... from... a friends place! When I passed
through the park I got attacked. By surprise!" Miko suddenly
became concious of the fact that she was naked infront of the
girl.
  She pulled at the remains of her clothes in a futile attempt to
cover herself. "My clothes were ripped off before I knew it and
the guy was all over me.
  "Thank you for saving me." she said. She had to clamp her mouth
shut so she didn't complain that she could have taken care of it.
After all, she was a ninja trained in defeating demons like that.
  "Say, what's your name?" she said, trying to sidetrack the
girl.
  "I'm Akane Tendo." She looked around for a duffle bag or
backpack that belonged to Miko. "I've just been shopping. All I
have is my college clothes. If you need, you can borrow them
while I walk you home safely."
  Miko, who was about to die from embarassment, tried to wave off
the helpful Akane. "No, that's not necessary. I can get home by
myself. No need to bother, really."
  By this time, a blush had found Akane's face. It seemed to her
that her embarassment was painted in bold strokes over her face
and body. 
  "I don't know about you, but there really is no way to avoid
people not seeing you. If nothing else, borrow a skirt," Akane
insisted.
  "Ah... Thanks. I really don't mean to be a bother." Miko really
didn't know how to get rid of this girl. Sure she was being nice,
but it was really irritating. She wanted to get some answers,
answers that she could not get talking to this girl.
  "No problem at all, just doing my duty as a Martial Artist."
she said as she handed Miko the skirt of her uniform. 
  "Say, I was wondering," Miko started as she put on the skirt.
She fingered the material, noting it's familiar feel.
  Akane was busy in her favorite pastime, scouting for perverts.
"Yes," Akane asked, "what is it?"
  "Do you attend the Himenoki Girl's Academy?"
  "I'm going to, this fall," Akane supplied. "Why do you ask?"
  "The skirt's just like the one to my uniform," Miko said as she
buttoned her denim jacket. 
  Miko knew that she really needed to get home.  Once there, she
could safely wash herself of the demon that accosted her.  If she
didn't, she would succum to the poisons that rested on the skin.
Due to the training of all the Miroku ninjas, those toxins are
eliminated in the process of victory. Defeat usually brought a
bigger price tag than an embarassing case of total hormone
overload and several hours of masterbation.
  Miko could feel the slime the monster smeared on her as it
affected her skin and sex. She, being the best of Miroku ninja
clan, was able to suppress the feelings. However, she knew that
it was only a matter of time.
  "Really?" Akane started at the coincidence of meeting a future
classmate, then remembered the last two years. (*Oh, well. Here
we go again.*)
  "Yea. What a coincidence!" the other girl said, almost echoing
Akane's thoughts.
  "You ready?" Akane asked, appraising the girl.  The ordinarily
short skirt was almost obscenely short on the other girl. Miko
was pulling the hem down so that it wasn't so drafty, but her
wider hips and well formed buttocks wouldn't cooperate. Akane had
only seen shorter skirts in the 'Senshi' comics, but at least
they had panties.
  Evy clouded Akane's mind when she realized that Miko had the
absolute killer body. While it was undeniable that  Shampoo had
better endowments than either of the present girls, the Amazon
simply could not compete against Miko in the area of looks.
  "Well," Miko acknowleged Akane. "I don't think that I should
take any challenges until I get home, and air vents are a
definite no-no." Miko smiled to take the bite from her words.
  Akane picked up her new clothes, and Miko started to her
apartment.
  "What is it like at Himenoki. Are there any teachers I should
avoid?"
  "Well, not that I spread rumors or anything..."


  Miko finally sighed when she got to her apartment. The trip had
definately taken too long, as Miko was certain that her cheeks
could have lit the foyer of the building. She felt the blush
creep down her face and spread across her shoulders and chest as
she walked. Training could only go so far, she thought, and if
she didn't get relief soon, she might jump her 'rescuer'.
  It was decided earlier that Akane would wait for Miko to get
her robe and leave with the skirt. Miko said that she would wash
it and send it to her. Akane waived that off and said that they
would have been washed the next day anyway. It would just be
rinsed out first to prevent any staining. Miko just decided to
give in.
  Akane, playing the concerned Martial Artist, had pressed
incessantly that the police should be called. Miko responded by
saying that she would contact the authorities. Akane gave Miko
her phone number, just in case the officer wanted to talk to her,
or maybe Miko herself needed to talk about it.
  Akane had a fairly pleasant evening, talking with her future
sempai about the girl's school she would be attending. Miko would
have had a pleasant time had she not been preoccupied. A number
of pedestrians ran into lightposts while watching the flaring
skirt that Miko wore.
  After entering her apartment, Miko handed the skirt to Akane,
appologized profusely about being a poor host, and closed the
door saying that she had to wash.


  "Tadaima!" Akane cried in greeting to the old and familiar
filial house.
  Akane was suprised that there was no answer. Typically Kasumi
would be up, at least until she knew that everyone was safe.
Akane decided to pay it no mind as she went to the laundry room. 
  The house was an old house, and sometimes Akane could feel it's
age weighing on her soul. It was worse at night, in the dark and
silence, like...
  She sorted the clothes by color and fabric to make it easier
for her sister in the morning. She wasn't really sure when her
sister usually woke, but Akane knew that she couldn't do it every
day.
  She stood and streached in the brightly lit room, feeling the
day's exertions. She felt the painful knots in her back, and
massaged them lightly. She wondered if she was going to bruise,
as she had landed on bumpy ground. 
  The painful knots didn't go away as she massaged them, and
decided that a little practice would be best before a soak in the
furo. She finished sorting the clothes and exited the room,
turning off the light as she went.
  Akane debated for a second if she should put on her gi before
going to the dojo. She had always thought that one should wear
proper clothing when practicing. She then remembered Ranma, and
his denial of that particular ritual. She knew that the gi would
set her mind for performing kata. She remembered the daily fights
from two years ago, where almost all the boys in school thought
that attacking her would impress her.
  (*I don't want to think about this anymore,*) she thought as
she came to her conclusion. She walked out of the house and to
the dojo. The door opened and closed in the darkness of night.
  Akane decided that turning on all the lights was a waste of
time and energy. Instead, by the guidance of the night light, she
took a few candles and lit them with a match from the same
drawer. After placing them in holders she set them on the floor,
describing a rough square.
  She started with a fairly easy kata that she knew, one designed
for stretching tight and sore muscles.  She started with her feet
more than a shoulder width apart, and even with her shoulder
line.
  The kata started with Akane bending her knees inward and her
hands between them grasping an invisibile ball. She was always
told that it was energy that was pulled from the earth, and
sometimes she could feel it. 
  She slowly pulled the ball to her stomach, straightening her
knees at the same time. She rested there for a second before
continuing upwards. Her muscles slid easily beneath her skin,
showing in relief her sensual form. Her hands held the ball as
she streached upward, releasing the invisible ball of energy to
the air.
  She repeated the stance, drawing energy from the earth. She
brought it to her center again, letting the power gather there.
Her back and shoulders felt like iron as she held the tension
inside her body. 
  This time she turned on the balls of her feet, switching from a
saddle stance to a right-forward attack stance. Her right leg was
bent at the knee, with her left leg straight behind her. In her
mind, she could feel the energy being drawn from her center even
as she pushed against it.
  She felt her body loosen as the tension was focused and
released outside her body. She switched back to the modified
saddle stance and repeated the sequence, this time to a left
forward stance. Pushing the ball forward she streached the
muscles on her right side, everything from her heel to her elbow.
  She smiled as she looked for her internal balance. She noted
that it was becoming easier, far from simple but easier. Ranma
was still able to knock her away from that state, but it was
happening less and less lately. 
  Now that she felt sufficiently relaxed, she decided to work on
a simple ladder style kata. It's base used a few simple moves.
Each time it was repeated a few new steps were inlcuded. When an
artist couldn't maintain the kata, she had to 'walk' back down
the ladder to the begining. In this way, a student of any level
would get good practice as the more complex sequences were built
on the smaller steps. 
  It was one of her favorite katas because it ended with the
student. She would often play a game with it, varying the
stylized kata slightly. Her favorite variation was a skip
sequence where she would advance three 'rungs' on the ladder,
then backtrack two. She would repeat the sequencing, drilling the
earlier forms into her mind while still working on the higher
sets.
  She once asked her father what the upper limit was. He said
that he had never reached it. She then took to the kata like the
obsesive child she was. She needed to know that it would end, and
not continue on forever, uncompleted. 
  Once, a year or so before Ranma first appeared in her life, she
came close to trully understanding the progression sequence. She
almost grasped the principle of the kata, a concept stronger than
the sequence of manuvers that it held. 
  She likened it to a butterfly, dancing just inside one's reach,
tantalizingly close, but not in your hand. She was never quite
able to get to that level again. Something always held her back,
and she wasn't sure what it could be.
  This time, her difficulty was rather obvious. She was aroused,
just enough to be distracting, but almost useless for interest.
Akane continued the kata, trying to lose herself in the forms
presented to her. Her body had other ideas.
  Her skin was unusually sensitive. While not covered with
goosebumps, her flesh was distacting her with the sensations of
movement. Her elbow rubed against her side, the athletic top
danced about chest, her thighs rubbed together as one stance
flowed into another.
  Her arousal was also getting the better of her. Her nipples
were already hard and pointy, with her bra inadequate protection
as she moved. Her sex was sending light waves through her as she
danced. She couldn't feel if she was wet, but supposed that she
was. However, that was not the end of it as her other erogenous
zones sent their particular patterns of pleasure.
  She continued her movements for a while, futilely attempting to
shut out the feelings in her body. She finally stopped her kata
and bowed to the dojo. Dropping to the floor, she noticed the
candles had burned for a while. If she was correct, she did that
one kata for the last twenty minutes.
  She shook her head in disappointment. She was distracted by
hormones, probably brought on by what happened eariler that
evening. She was morbidly fascinated that such a scene would do
that to her. She had never thought that she was into perverted
things like bondage or exhibitionism.
  She knew that she would never be interested in that kind of
thing, being held down while someone took their pleasure. It
disgusted her beyond imagining. Yet here she was with an
imagination that wouldn't stop.
  "Come on, Akane! Get a grip!" she said to herself. A small war
waged inside herself, she wanted control, her body wanted
release. It was a war she decided to loose.
  "Well, it has been a while." She said to herself as one side
won. She rarely got the privacy she needed, as Ranma slept in the
dojo and both her bedroom and the bathroom window opened to it.
She rationalized it by saying that she did not want to give Ranma
any ammunition for teasing her.
  She reached up to her left breast and massaged it with her
right hand. She was pleased with her body's agreement to the
treatment, and drew her hand to her right breast. She squeezed
and rubbed the sensitive mound and tweaked the stiff nipple
lightly.
  Her other hand unfastened her shorts and pulled her tank top
out of them. She pulled the tank over her head, streaching the
fabric a little too much as she heard the abused tearing sound.
She had difficulty with her bra, as the clip refused to release
with the attention of a single hand.
  Her skin was damp, slick in some places from sweat. She rubbed
her hands over her belly and chest, playing with her breasts,
nipples and bellybutton. She let a light finger delicately stroke
the area under her breasts and around her navel, imagining her
lover kissing light and sweetly there.
  Hers was not a complicated fantasy, built around shame or
deceit. It was not a matter of control or abuse. Her imagination
had brought to her a number of lovers, each skilled in their
minstrations and attention.
  With her, it was always a matter of pleasure. Pain was never
present. There was only the light euphoric joy that could be made
by two gentle and passionate lovers.
  She sat in the dojo, clad in her undone shorts and panties. She
lifted herself for a moment to remove those as well. She felt a
little self conscious, sitting naked in the open. She thought
briefly of her actions, debating whether it would be worth
getting caught. She decided to push forward, to continue having
sex, the sex of one.
  Her hands roamed her body, not unlike a pair of dancers.
Fleeting and light they danced across the stage of her body. Each
searching for the other, and lost treasures. From mountain to
valley to cliff they ran, missing each other in passing.
  Her right hand stayed at the cleft of her sex. It's fingers ran
along the grassy mound and cave. It quickly found the guardian
and attacked with a vengence. The little bud stood in defiance
but was easily defeated by the delicate digits.
  Her left ran around the left mountain of the twin peaks. It
came to rest at the tip of the tit, and pinched the hardened tip
lightly. It traveled to the other side and played with it in a
similar fashion.
  The right gripped her sex as the palm pleasurably pressed the
tiny bud of the clitoris. The fingers stroked around her outer
lips, letting the wetness lubricate their travel. The tips of her
fingers followed the oval of her sex, tracing a spiral inward
towards her waiting hole.
  She felt the imaginary lover push her back. He put his head to
her crotch and nosed around. Liking what he saw, he licked her
around the outer sex. The roughness of his tounge was pleasurably
abrasive against her clitoris.
  He turned around without breaking contact, and positioned his
manhood near her face. She wanted to feel it against her, on her
face and in her mouth. She reached out with her lips and nibbled
it lightly with her teeth and tounge.
  Her lover reached down and grasped her breast, stroking it
powerfully. He took the mound and kneaded it, not to the point of
pain but instead pleasurably. She moaned with a throaty voice.
  Akane was washed up in the sensation, too enchanted to see the
change in her fantasy. Her hands traveled all over her body,
pinching and pulling. She did not see the angry red welts that
they left, only felt the pleasure she wanted from them. She did
not see the light shed by her aura as she built up her energy in
response to her ministrations.
  She did not know that the man that attacked Miko was actually a
demon out to defeat a guardian of this dimension. She did not
know that it had cast a spell on her, manifested by the slime on
his skin. She was too lost to her passion to realize her now
abusive fantasy.
  Her hands, possessed by the spell of desire, drove at her sex
and breasts. Merciless was the treatment, and Akane took it all
in. Higher and higher she rose, her ecstacy grew beyond all
imagining.
  She rolled over from where she lay, rising her rear and sex
high. She exposed herself to the air, and continued her ferocious
attack on the inviting sex. Still she flew higher, lost in the
fantasy of lust.
  She inserted a two, then three fingers. She drove them inward,
violating her sex, ravaging herself to satiate her hunger. Still
it was not enough. She couldn't fit any more in, four was simply
impossible for her.
  She needed penetration. She needed to be full. It was an itch
that couldn't be scratched. 
  Her mind was lost, lost in the sea of feeling and power and
submission. The tone of her fantasy changed to suit the magics
running through her. As the beast was a feral and abusive
creature, so was the fantasy. Akane reveled in it, so alien to
her it was captivating.
  With out thinking, she grabbed one of the candles on the floor.
She gripped it like it was a life line. Perhaps it was.
  She quickly brought it down to her gaping and ready sex. No
preliminaries were necessary. She inserted it with force, and
cried out her pleasure. Although it was thin by most penile
standards, it was more than enough for her. 
  Her martial arts training and constant physical excercise had
destroyed her hymen long ago. If she did have that barrier, she
might have been able to snap out of her delirium. As it was, she
used her impromptu penis with great vigour.
  Power started to gather within the writhing girl. Through her
lust and desire she felt the Power rise. She paused for a second,
but then continued her fevered actions. The Power came from
within, not imposed on her like all the magics she had
experienced. 
  It was a burning, terrifying Power, building from the pit of
her stomach. To her, ki was heady and potent, but it was liquid
and cool to her imagination. This new sensation was fire.
  Still, she couldn't stop her hands. Her left drove the wax
phallus in and out of her dripping sex. Her right pinched and
stroked her clitoris wildly. 
  Her fantasy had become divided, with twin lovers attending her,
and her them. One male was thrusting heavily into her, while the
female laid under her. The man seemed to grow inside her as the
burning power grew. The woman laid so that she could lick the
joining of man and woman, leaving her own sex at Akane's face. 
  In one orgiastic surge, the ferocious firey energy consumed her
from within. In one instant, Akane Tendo's heart stopped. 

  "Time is growing short little one. You must awaken."
  "hWh..at?" Akane responded to the ancient and caring voice
sluggishly, still recovering from the shock.
  "We have precious little time, and there is much you need to
hear."
  "What... What happened?" she looked around for a minute, trying
to see her surroundings. She believed that she was in the dojo,
but there was a light, bright mist that covered the area and
prevented easy sight. 
  She looked down and gasped. She saw three people laying on the
floor in a very compromising position. All three of them looked
very familiar. Two of them, placed like twin opposing bookends,
framed the shorter haired girl in the middle.
  "You have been chosen to be a Guardian of this realm. The
current guardian will die shortly, and his service must
continue."
  Akane, not hearing this statement, said, "This is not
happening."
  "Yes it is. There is something that I must know. Do you love
anyone?"
  "What?" She spun around to look at the man and put the sight
behind her. "What has that got to do with anything?" she demanded
of him.
  "I have chosen you, of all my descendants, to be the Guardian
of this realm. Your involvements with man, or woman, will affect
your ability. They may be used against you and you must be
prepared for this."
  Akane blushed at the mention of girls, not certain if she
should take his head off, or hide. It wasn't as if she _liked_
girls that way, this scene displayed before her just popped into
her head.
  "Well, I do have a fiancee..." Akane evaded. She wasn't really
certain that she did love him, but she knew she cared.
  "Ah, yes. Good. The young man I presume?" Akane nodded, with
her blush deepening. "What of the girl?"
  Akane fairly glowed with embarrasment, "err... That is also
Ranma."
  "Please explain."
  "I'm not certain how much you know, but Ranma was dunked in the
Spring of Drowned Girl. Before he met us, that is."
  "Spring of Drowned Girl?"
  "Yes, it was at the valley of Jusenkyou."
  "Jusenkyo? Unbelievable!"
  "What's wrong? Is there something that I should know?"
  There was a moment of hesitation, but he waived off the
question, "There is nothing that can be done about it. Pay it no
mind.
  "With that, I can ask you. Will you ascend to the position of
Guardian, acknowleging your lineage as a defender of this realm
from demons? It is a position of great responsibility and immense
duty. You will have a difficult life ahead of you, however you
will be granted a great power, and an instructor for your
benefit."
  "My lineage? Is this something that only women can do?"
  "No. The current Guardian is male."
  "I'm not the best martial artist in my family. My father is by
far better than I. Unless I got it from my mother."
  "No, I am your ancestor through your father's line. The death
of your mother, due to complications of pregnancy with her fifth
child, has made your father mentally unsuitable for this duty."
  "Mom was pregnant? But, she was always so healthy!"
  "Each of her pregnancies were difficult for her. Yours
expecially. It was advised that she not try for another, as it
might kill her."
  "Fifth?"
  "I must have your answer. My time here is almost at an end.
What is your decision?"
  Akane paused for a minute, only to have him urge her further.
  "I accept."


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sigurd@clarityconnect.com
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