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  SpoilerTransphobia, terf rhetoric

  [colpse]fourteen

  [5 august 2024]=-=[monday]=-=(0345)

  Morgan is awakened by a sp to the genitals. “Ow! Fuck!” she tries to shout, but she’s gagged and bound against a wall as well. She’s been stripped naked. Again. Amazingly, though, they haven’t taken away her gsses. She looks around frantically so that if she’s still transmitting, she can show the room she’s in. But if not, the local storage on the gsses is capable of storing 1600 hours of video at 720p.

  “You TIMs are all alike. You and your fake breasts, as if that makes you a real woman,” Katie says as she sps her again, this time across them. “Why can’t you just admit what you really are and stay the fuck out of my gender?”

  Morgan attempts to protest again. “I am a woman!” she tries to say through the gag.

  Katie responds to the muffled protest by kicking Morgan in the crotch. Thankfully, with no balls there… it still hurts, but it hurts on par with getting punched in the face, not like it would have if she still had testes. “Lying man! It’s not bad enough that you dress like us, steal away young lesbians with your agenda, and invade our private spaces, but you want to cim you’re one of us? You can’t change sex, asshole!” She strikes Morgan across the face.

  Morgan starts to cry. She doesn’t even need to utilize her skill of crying on command for this one. This is fucking humiliating, possible even more so than all the rapes. TERFs are fucking worse than actual rapists… she thinks.

  “Well, we’re going to make sure you can’t continue your masquerade,” Katie says, darkly. “I’ve already booked you to have those things removed. You’re going back to your old gender.” She kicks Morgan in the gut. “Quit crying and be a man for once in your pathetic fucking life!”

  Katie’s phone rings. “What? I’m busy down here with this TIM… What? A visitor?” Her eyes open wide. “...Levin?! Okay, okay, I’m coming out…” She hangs up and looks hatefully at Morgan. “I’ll be back, ‘Lilith.’ You’d better start thinking of a male name for your tombstone…”

  Levin’s here? I’ve got to get free somehow… Unfortunately for Morgan, the cuffs are on very tight, and she doesn’t have anything on hand to use as a lockpick. At least I’m aware now that the drugs have worn off. She has an experimental impnt in her body this time around that is releasing small amounts of a drug that should counter most sedatives – she’d allowed Wheeling’s people to believe she was sedated during the trip here.

  Katie meets Levin in the foyer. “Jason! I wasn’t expecting you,” she says. “Do you have new merchandise?”

  “I’m afraid not, my dear,” Jason says. “There’s a turd in your punchbowl. I assume you have a young trans-identified man in your basement right now?”

  “I do,” Katie says. “I picked him up in Calgary after a book signing. He’d forced a girl to transition to fulfill some deviant urges of his.”

  “Yes, well… you’ve been tricked. He’s not who you think he is,” Jason says. “I’ll expin on the way down.”

  Katie blinks. “Oh?” She follows Jason. She knows her pce when dealing with this man – the same pce as any other woman, even though from a financial standpoint she is his equal, and as far as social capital goes, hers dwarfs his. “How so, sir?”

  “Have you heard of the Accession program? The wife of the person that created it created a forcibly feminized assassin to try to get at us after I took their son and… made him one of my sales,” Jason says.

  “Ugh, yes… lots of TIMs using that program,” Katie says. “Assassin?! You mean…”

  Jason nods. “She was going to have you killed, because you partake in the merchandise I offer.” The two walk down the corridor towards the cell where Morgan is being kept. “That man is a dangerous one. He’s former US Army, twisted by her into an unrepentant killer. He killed Roderick in cold blood.”

  “Oh my God…” Katie says, stopping for a moment and covering her lower face with her hands. “That’s terrible… and you’re saying he was going to do that to me?”

  “Yes, and potentially take down the entire network in the process,” Jason says as they reach the cell, and he looks inside. “Hello again, Morgan.”

  Morgan looks up and growls at Jason as she sees him peek into the room. “Hello, Daddy,” she says through the gag, her voice dripping with unadulterated hatred.

  “Daddy?!” Katie asks Jason in surprise.

  “From when I tried to have him bent to my will before,” Jason says as he opens the door. “I don’t know how he managed to undo the brainwashing, but no matter. He doesn’t need to be brainwashed to go back to his husband and resume his life as a proper Christian housewife. Lobotomized, perhaps, but not brainwashed. He doesn’t need much intellect for his wifely duties. You should probably have him sedated. I’ll take him off your hands. 450,000 sound alright?”

  “Of course, thank you, sir,” Katie says, feeling as though she dodged a bullet.

  “I’ll be sure to have the donation sent to your women’s group within the hour. Have the gsses removed too. There’s no doubt there that those are false, probably loaded with surveilnce technology and perhaps even a tracker. I’d also have your guards be ready,” Jason suggests.

  Katie nods and gets on her phone. “Increase outside security,” she says as she walks up, takes Morgan’s gsses, then stomps on them several times to make sure any technology inside is no longer functional. “Get someone in here with a sedative. ‘Lilith’ is going with Mr. Levin.”

  Luckily, they haven’t caught on to the subdermal tracker yet. Meanwhile, Morgan continues to inwardly seethe. She has to hope the impnt works.

  Nearby, a box truck waits with several contractors inside, fully armed and ready to go at a moment’s notice. It’s about a half mile from the outer edge of Wheeling’s compound.

  “We just lost the feed,” Hansen says over the radio. “Levin is there. Don’t let him out of your sight but stay out of his. He’s probably heading to one of the local airfields.”

  “Understood,” one of the contractors says.

  “We’d rather that Morgan can get to where Levin is going so, we can crash his entire operation there, but it’s ultimately up to her to decide if that is a feasible pn,” Danni says, also on the radio. “If she feels it’s too dangerous, she’ll find a way to signal for assistance. She knows our frequency.”

  “We also have to hope the doctors were right about that impnted medication. If she gets sedated again, it could blow a serious hole in our pn,” Hansen adds.

  Inside the compound, Morgan is sedated and cuffed, before being carried through the castle and out to a van full of Starscape contractors and pced inside. Unbeknownst to them, the impnt is in fact working, and she’s awake, but pying as if she’s unconscious.

  The van soon pulls out. The box truck follows at a distance. Morgan’s GPS tracker is still functioning, so they don’t have to be a pinly obvious tail. They just have to be nearby. As they follow, the general direction of the van is toward an airfield, as they figured. She’s still transmitting. “They’re heading towards an airfield, like you thought, ma’am,” the contractor with the radio says to Hansen.

  “Just follow and observe for now. Get any numbering off the pne if you can,” Hansen advises. “We can use that to track him in the future.”

  “Understood, ma’am,” the contractor says. As Levin’s van reaches the airfield, the box truck parks in one of the nearby lots. One of the contractors steps out and uses a pair of long-range binocurs to get the information off of the side of the pne, which is reyed inside and sent to Hansen.

  “I have it. Give me a moment,” Hansen says. There are a couple of moments of silence as Hansen works. “Okay. According to this, the pne is supposed to be flying deep into Russia, somewhere near Izhevsk. That’s going to make things more difficult, but not impossible. Continue to observe. Crash the party only if Morgan’s tracker goes dark before the pne departs.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the contractor with the radio says.

  --={@~~~@}=--

  [4 august 2024]=-=[sunday]=-=(2134)

  “There’s going to be too much red tape to try to get our people into fucking Russia,” Danni says as she listens in to the conversation between Hansen and the contractors on the ground in Wales.

  “I’ll see if we can buy some local mercenaries,” Kelly says as she starts making calls. “Knowing Levin, he probably bought the fucking Russian Army. If Putin knew what kind of a fucking pervert he was, he’d send a death squad after him…” She starts speaking fwless Russian on the phone.

  “He’d also have the death squad kill Morgan and that other girl,” Danni says with a sigh. “You know how they are about anyone who isn’t cishet.”

  Kelly just nods as she continues to speak into the phone in Russian. “Okay,” Kelly says as she ends the call. “I’ve got a group of them. They’ll try to smuggle Morgan, and that other girl if she can save her, into Finnd. That damn war in Ukraine has all the usual trafficking routes tied up. She just needs to make sure Levin dies.”

  “There’s the tall order, but I think she can pull it off,” Danni says. She turns to Hansen. “Once the pne’s off the ground, tell our people in Wales to disengage.”

  “Gotcha, Miss Danni…” Hansen says as she speaks into the mic again…

  --={@~~~@}=--

  [5 august 2024]=-=[monday]=-=(0441)

  “Once the pne’s in the air, disengage,” Hansen says over the radio.

  “Yes ma’am,” the contractor replies as he hangs back and observes from a distance.

  There are only four of Levin’s guards, while there’s eight of Kelly’s contractors. They could well swarm the airfield and put a stop to this now, but part of the operation involves finding Levin’s base. For that, they need Morgan in his captivity.

  Morgan is thrown into the cargo hold of the airpne as Jason arrives. As far as her captors believe, she should be unconscious for the entire trip.

  However, as soon as the door to the cargo hold is shut, Morgan opens her eyes and starts putting together a pn. She’s cuffed, but she twists and turns, looping her cuffed wrists under her body as the pne takes off. Her hands are now in front of her. There’s no light, and no way the small hold is soundproofed, so she quietly rifles through the luggage, feeling for something she can use as a weapon, or to free herself. She’s still naked, so she can’t really hide anything on her person other than maybe inside a clenched fist. She eventually feels something inside one of the bags. There’s a handle, a trigger… a gun? No… no, the outer casing is pstic. Probably a taser. Still could be useful.

  She decides to spend the rest of the flight contempting a pn of attack. She heard four distinct voices, and she knows Levin is on the flight, and there’s a pilot. So, six people in total to subdue – one permanently. Plus, she needs to rescue that girl, the one that believes herself to be Tiffany. Aside from an obscene longshot that she meets him at the airport, she’ll be back at his compound, and she doesn’t know where it is. She sighs silently as she puts the taser back and shifts her body again, so the cuffs are in the back. She’ll have to wait until she gets to his residence to do anything.

  She ends up taking a nap. She’s supposed to be unconscious anyway.

  --={@~~~@}=--

  (1102)

  The pne nded, and Morgan was tossed unceremoniously into the trunk of a luxury car. It took them another hour of driving to get to Jason’s compound, the old, converted church that’s been turned into a house of horrors. The pce is seriously isoted. It’ll take days on the ground to get out of Russia.

  Luckily, her tracker is still working. The mercenaries Kelly hired can be there in hours. There is a possibility of escape, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.

  As the car stops and doors can be heard shutting, she figures now is a good time to “wake up.” As the trunk lid opens, she acts groggy and disoriented.

  She is yanked out of the trunk by her still-cuffed arms by an armed mercenary. He speaks Russian at her. Unfortunately, she doesn’t speak the nguage, but she imagines he’s saying to walk as he holds his machine gun menacingly.

  Looks like this time, Jason isn’t pying around as far as security goes. These mercenaries look like they’re waiting for her to make the wrong move.

  Jason shouts back something in Russian to the mercenaries.

  One of them shoves his gun into Morgan’s back, forcing her to walk ahead into the compound.

  As she walks into the converted church, she sees “Tiffany” doing housework, as if she’s the maid. The bastard’s probably training her in domestic chores for whatever dickhead she ends up married off to. One thing’s for sure; it won’t be Riley.

  Jason says something in Russian to the mercenary escorting Morgan, and he forces her to walk upstairs, to one of the guest rooms. “I’ve had time to prepare for your return, you wayward child of mine. Your husband misses you, you know.”

  “Oh, fuck off with that shit,” Morgan replies as she’s led into the room and the door is shut. The cuffs are unlocked, before the mercenary stands in front of the door, holding his gun, ready to fire it.

  Jason points to the bed. There’s a dress, a pair of panties, and a choker on the bed. Another fucking electrified colr, most likely. “Put them on. I won’t ask twice.”

  Morgan lets out a slight growl as she walks over to the bed. Honestly, the dress is better than being naked right now, and the panties are welcome as well. It’s the choker that’s annoying her. It’s going to severely hamper her pns – as if the mercenaries armed with AK-47s weren’t enough of a deterrent. She puts on the panties first, then the dress. “What, no bra?” she quips as she buttons the dress up.

  “Quit stalling, boy,” Jason says as he points at the colr.

  Morgan reluctantly puts on the choker. She can still do this, but it’ll be a lot harder now.

  Jason frowns at Morgan, before hitting the remote on his belt.

  Morgan screams in agony as she’s electrocuted.

  “You’ve been disobedient, my child! You’re supposed to honor your father and your husband!” Jason says as he releases the button. “God gifted you with free will, in the hope that you would learn to use it properly, to understand your pce beneath men. But it’s obvious that you refuse to learn. Thus, I see no use for you to have intellect. You can serve your husband just as well as an imbecile. The surgeon is already en route. He’ll be here in two days.” He turns and leaves the room, but the mercenary stays behind.

  Two days, Morgan thinks. That’s all the time I have to formute an escape. I’m colred with another shock choker, and there’s guys around with AK-47s who I can’t speak to. Tiffany’s probably a lost cause by now, but I still have to try to rescue her.

  No pressure or anything...

  As she sits on the bed to try to figure out a pn of action, the mercenary blocking the door looks at her. ?”Pervert,”? he says in Russian.

  “I don’t understand you, asshole,” Morgan replies.

  “Pervert,” the guard says in English, with a very heavy accent. “You are a deviant, like the president says. If we weren’t being paid so well, you would already be dead.”

  Well. I guess I can speak to him, Morgan figures. Maybe I can piss him off enough to get the gun off of him… “Better a pervert than a whore,” Morgan replies. “Is your mouth for hire too, or just your gun?”

  “Watch your tone, pervert,” the mercenary says as he raises the gun.

  “No, seriously,” Morgan says as she continues to stand. “How’s Levin’s dick taste? I’m curious.” If the merc had a remote for the choker, he would have likely used it by now. This is valuable. It means Levin has the only one right now – though he imagines a second copy of the remote exists for Callis, whenever he comes to take her back.

  But that’s a moot point, as she’s likely to already be lobotomized once he finally arrives to take her.

  The mercenary responds to the verbal assault on his manhood by hitting Morgan in hers with the butt of his machine gun. Of course, again, she has no balls to strike, but she still goes down to a knee. It hurts, but it’s also more valuable intel. Either the merc has a lot of self-control, or he’s under strict orders to keep Morgan alive unless he absolutely has to shoot her.

  “...Seriously, if it was that bad, you could have just said so…” Morgan says, wincing. Now she’s dead set on needling him until he either has to leave the room to maintain his composure, or until he attacks her again. She’s seen how he likes to attack, so if he goes to the well again, she’s sure she can disarm him.

  The mercenary growls and hits Morgan in the face with the butt of the AK. “For a boy, you’re a lot like an American woman. You talk too much.”

  Morgan turns her head back to look at the merc and spits at him. Her mouth is bleeding. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  The mercenary looks at Morgan, disgusted at her, before turning around and exiting the room. ?”I can’t deal with this,”? he says in Russian, which she can’t understand, but judging by the tone, he’s very frustrated.

  This gives Morgan a brief respite to try to get a look at everything, and while uncuffed, to boot. This isn’t the same room she was in the st time she was here, for her “wedding.” This one is less feminine, though it is still very much so. It’s barely furnished; there’s a bed and a dedicated washroom, as well as a small wardrobe. She checks the wardrobe; it’s only got a few more of the dresses in it. They’re all the same overly conservative style of dress that she’s wearing at the moment, and “Tiffany” only wears.

  There’s a window, but it’s barred from the outside like a prison cell. There’s not enough space between the bars for her to slip through, and her meager strength won’t be enough to break them. She’s on the upper floor anyway, so even if she could escape through the window, she’d likely injure herself on the way out.

  The only way is through. Sadly, she doesn’t know the yout of the compound. She could get out, but that’s only one part of the mission. She has to rescue the girl who believes herself to be Tiffany.

  Then a thought pops into her head. There’s no way “Tiffany” is the only person he has. There are way too many rooms in this pce. He has to be running an entire kidnapping operation out of here.

  There have to be more people being tortured, waiting to be sold.

  Crap.

  --={@~~~@}=--

  (1718)

  Morgan has been sitting on her bed, silently formuting a pn. Right now, it mostly consists of getting a gun off of the guard and shooting Levin before he can activate the shock choker around her neck.

  The door starts to open.

  There’s a girl walking in that she doesn’t recognize, holding what looks like a tray of food. She’s dressed as a French maid, though with a short skirt. There’s no way the girl is over 15, unless surgery has been involved... which, knowing how these perverts work, it probably has. “Bonjour, madame. Il est l'heure de d?ner. Veuillez manger,” she says in halting French, as if she is only learning the nguage. It’s like she’s reciting from a transtion app or something.

  Morgan’s French isn’t much better, but it’s far, far better than her Russian. She hasn’t really used it since high school… which she can’t remember. “Es-tu prisonnier ici?” she asks. Are you a prisoner here? “Parlez-vous angis?” Do you speak English?

  “Je n'ai pas le droit, madame,” she replies. I am not allowed. So, she does, but she isn’t allowed to.

  “Quel est ton nom?” Morgan asks, deciding to keep the conversation in French. What is your name?

  “Amélie,” the girl replies.

  “Es-tu une fille?” Morgan inquires as she takes the bowl of food and a spoon from the tray. Are you a girl?

  “N-non…” Amélie replies in a near-whisper as tears form in her eyes. “Je dois partir. Le Ma?tre m'attend.” I must leave. The Master is waiting for me. She turns and leaves the room, dabbing gently at her eyes with a tissue so she doesn’t ruin her makeup.

  Morgan sighs softly as Amélie leaves and locks the door behind her. So, there’s at least two girls to rescue. She looks over the food. It’s beef stew, but it smells funny. It’s probably ced with a sedative. No doubt Levin wants to try to alter her somehow before the lobotomy.

  The impnt has worked so far, so she eats the stew, then she takes a nap.

  --={@~~~@}=--

  (1833)

  Morgan awakens to the sensation of her feet dragging against the floor as she’s being brought somewhere. Levin isn’t present, she notices as she opens her eyes just barely. It’s just two mercenaries taking her somewhere.

  A door opens, and she’s dragged into a room that looks like a surgical bay. It looks like it’s set up for brain surgery. Great. The bastard lied. Why am I not surprised?

  She has no choice but to spring her surprise as she reveals she is actually fully awake, before knocking the wind out of one mercenary and stealing his gun in one swift motion, before turning and firing at the other one. He drops to the floor, dead, before he can even lift his weapon. She then kills the first mercenary before he can recover and hit an arm or shoot her. She quickly searches the bodies and finds two things even more valuable than the two machine guns. She holds one of the guns in her hand and straps the other to her back.

  What she finds is a keyring that no doubt opens nearly every door in the pce. The other is a combat knife. She slips the bde between her neck and the shock choker and cuts it off of her. She decides not to take a radio off the bodies; all the chatter is in Russian, and it would just be a distraction for her. She punches herself just beneath her left breast, breaking her GPS transmitter. That’s the signal for Kelly’s people to come in.

  She leaves the surgical bay and starts heading down the halls. She finds Tiffany’s room and opens it.

  “...Morgan?!” she asks. “You… what are you doing here?”

  “What’s it look like?” Morgan replies. “Escaping. You’re coming with me.”

  “But I can’t…” Tiffany says. “Daddy will be cross with me…”

  “He can’t stop us,” Morgan says. “I know you’re a prisoner here. I know your real name isn’t Tiffany. You had another life before. Don’t you want to take it back?”

  “I…” Tiffany says. She isn’t hard-programmed like Morgan was, she’s just been traumatized into compliance the old-fashioned way. “I… I want to leave… I miss my family…” she says in a near whisper.

  “My people are on the way. Are there others like you?” Morgan asks as she gnces down the hall in both directions.

  “There… there’s four other boys that either have been or are being transformed like I was…” Tiffany says.

  Tiffany was a boy? Of course she was…

  “Two are in the basement. Amélie is probably in the kitchen, and Cecelia… she’s in… that room,” Tiffany says. “Daddy is using her...”

  Morgan nods. “Stay here for now. I’ll save them, then I’ll come back for you, Tiffany.”

  “Evan…” Tiffany says. “My name is… was Evan before… before all this.” She starts crying.

  “Evan. I’ll be back for you. I promise,” Morgan says, in a reassuring tone, before she shuts the door. She turns and lifts her AK-47.

  It’s time to put an end to this.