Intimations
Ranma 1/2 fic
lemon




Warning: This fic describes acts of sexual activity and bit of perversion.


You have been Warned.








  "A-ka-ne! Time to wake!"
  Sleep blanketed my mind, leadening my senses and my 
movements. When I try groaning at the sickeningly perky, 
disgustingly early riser that plagues my slumber, I realize 
this is a dream. No, make that a nightmare.
  I have been gagged. I might have been drugged. Slow 
understanding of my bindings works it's way through tired 
muscle. If I pull like this...
  "That's a good girl." I freeze, not really awake, and not 
hearing. "Go ahead. Please Try."
  The voice sighs a little. "What are we going to do with you?  Can you
not even open your eyes to face me? Are you that 
ashamed already?"
  My eyes pop open and I see my malefactor, or should that be 
fe-malefactor. On occasions it is hard to tell. My eyes tell  me of my
prison, my room. I have often had nightmares like  these, never really
remembering them, and I do not wish it.
  I can tell by feel that both my hands and feet are tied to  what appears
to be the bed posts. I am covered by a sheet, 
currently, but I cannot sense clothes. The straps that hold me  are solid,
but the posts...
  "Are you feeling alright, A-ka-ne? Can I make any more 
comfortable? You know I do want to enjoy this to the fullest,  and you
_must_ be comfortable."
  The sound of her voice changes subtly. It is still cute, but  carries an
undercurrent of strength. I look at her directly 
for the first time. It is still night out, but the street lamp  and almost
full moon gives her form a ghostly appearance. Her  skin has always been a
little pale, 'This close to sunburn',  or so the saying goes. She never
had been burned, even with  all her time in the sun.
  Her hair is long, longer than mine ever was. Her usual style  doesn't
show it though. The amibient light is not enough to  show the true color
of her hair, leaving it a shiny black. She  is wearing a dark robe, velvet
I think, and her feet are out  of sight.
  My hands move a little, betraying my control. I want to get  free...
  "You know, you should really go easy on yourself. Don't 
strain too hard-you might bruise that delicate skin of yours."
  I shiver ran down my spine, and I gave the Look. I have 
given her the Look before and I always stopped her dead. Not  this time. I
started to feel fear. Not fear of death, but fear  of helplessness. 
  Anger is an easy emotion. Most people are angry. Usually 
anger is directed at others, but stems from self-loathing. 
Trust me, I know. I have spent a great deal of time hating who  I was, or
was not, then lashing out at others in anger. But I  got over that. Now I
only get angry at people who deserve it. 
  Fear can also be focused. Toward a thing or person or act.  Helplessness
is an entirely different matter. The depth of 
dispair can only be imagined, or experienced. You would be 
better off imagining.
  "Lets see how you look, shall we?" Her voice has almost lost  all of
it's cute feel, and starts it's upward spiral of 
maliciousness.
  Her hand falls to the sheet and caresses the cool cotton 
next to my frame. She did not touch me, but I feel it as if 
she had. My body tries to expand it's touch in every 
direction, but I am bound. I am in control.
  Without warning, the sheet is ripped from it's resting place  over my
body, and flutters gracefully to the floor. Half of it  is lit silver by
the moon's iridescence. The other lies 
waiting, patiently, in the dark of the room.
  "Much better. You really should take it easy. This is just  too good to
waste on getting hurt, you know." Again, a silky  voice with the
undercurrent of malice and steel. I shiver an  unexpected shake. It is not
cold this time of year. It is the  feel of quickened wind racing across my
skin, a reminder of my  new nakedness.
  Yes, I am nude, with only a little more than when I was born  a new
babe. I had gained enough since then to be embarassed by  my condition. A
state I tried to mask with rage. Again I try  the Look. Too bad, she is
not paying attention.
  She leans over me, head at my abdomen. Inhaling a gentle 
breath, she smells my navel. Slowly she sighs, almost in 
pleasure. Her wind travels across my belly and down my legs,  gently and
teasing. A shiver threatens at the base of my 
spine. It goes nowhere.
  Her head floats up towards my head. Wisps of her hair stroke  my skin,
causing gooseflesh all over. It is now that I smell  her. I know that this
is no dream now. In none of my dreams 
have I ever sniffed, snorted, or smelled the least scent.
  Clean skin assaulted my nose, along with a hint of cherry 
blossoms. Not really sweet, but fresh. 
  Her hair is a dark hood, hiding her ghostly visage of a 
face. Exciting, electric, and terrifing this experience is. I  do not wish
to want this, but my body tells me otherwise. I 
don't really know how to fight this torture of pleasure.
  Again she inhales, this time around the swell of my breast  ending at my
neck. She breathes out, sending gentle currents  of air across my taut
nipple and underarm. A not unpleasant  tingle shoots down my spine and
ends... lower.
  I focus on a simple kata, an attempt to seperate from my 
body. These feelings are not mine, and I do not want them. 
They come unbidden, bringing a teasing sensation. They promise   release,
but they do not deliver. 
  I continue my mental work, and the body fades away. I 
rejoice in the fact that I have seperated from those unwelcome 
sensations. 
  Then the cold water hits and with it a twisting sensation. I  feel
bigger and smaller, stronger and weaker. 
  "Don't ignore me, Akane." Steel, galvanized by rage.
  I stare in shock. In the window's light I see her face, a 
silver symphony of rage and lust. Maybe a touch of disgust.
  "You have been a naughty girl. Now you will pay. I was 
content with merely helping myself. Now I will take more."
  The cold water is now freezing in the cool night. Still, it  is warm to
her voice.
  My eyes widen further when I see myself. I know it to be me  for I am
looking from my eyes down my body. Yet it is not me.  I have lost my
busom, not that it was all that much, and  gained... a different tool.
  My mind cannot grasp the change. I cannot feel what used to  be there.
IT'S NOT THERE! My hips are simply not right, my  arms are obscene, and my
chest is flat! 
  My eyes go black around the edges as my mind reels. 
  "No you don't." She threatens. My vision continues backwards  along the
tunnel of conciousness. Then she slaps me. Twice. 
  Her hand is raised for a third strike when I finally see 
her.
  "Good. Pay attention. You will not get away that easily, 
dear Akane." Making sure that her point was made, she bounced  off the
bed. 
  A slight flutter of sound, a whisper of movement, and her 
robe was off. She too was naked underneath. The full breasts  that almost
defied gravity. While in truth hers are not much  larger than mine, her
small frame makes them almost 
impossible.
  When I first saw her, she was cute. Over the last few years,  she has
gained much maturity in form. I could call her 
beautifull, if I were into that sort of thing. 
  I know what others say of me. I know that people believe 
that I am a lesbian. I am not. I am merely disgusted with all  the members
of the male side of my species I have seen. They  are either gullible,
spineless, loquacious, or perverts. Mix  and match any of these traits and
you will find all the men in  my life.
  Even so, as dedicated as I am to heterosexuality, with 
myself as the female partner, I cannot hide the excitement 
that crawls out of my belly. 
  She simply stands there gazing at me. Hours it seems, and I  cannot
dampen these thought that run through my brain.
  (Being heterosexual, doing IT with a girl right now would 
not be a problem, right?)
  I shiver at that thought. I can't do It with another girl,  It just
wouldn't be right!
  Fearfully, I look at her. Before my eyes she becomes. From  the iron
maiden comes a sexual creature, oozing sensuality. I  feel the intense
physicality of her being, and I cannot help  but respond. Her aura
glimmers in the half light, seemingly  more intense at her sweet zones.
  I am embarrassed and enticed at the same time. Never have I  had this
feeling of weakness, and it shames me. Female, I  wouldn't have to worry,
it is not as visible, not as 
prominent, not as embarassing. Not that I wouldn't have known. 
  This time, I cannot will It away. The sensations feed 
themselves in a continuous mobius strip. I am both sides at 
the same time, feeling the sensation from my new self tingle  and augment
itself infinately, embarassingly.
  At the same time there she is, radiating, oozing, exuding 
sensuality. I know not how much I can take.
  After the second eternity this night, she glides to my 
bedside, and repeats her earlier caress. Inhaling, sighing, 
sweeping from center to head to foot to center. All the while,  a part of
my new self stands up like an antenna. Being this  close to a girl has
always turned me off. Electrical switches  have more doubt than I.
  She kissed my nipple!
  Electric currents shoot through me. All hair on my body, now  that there
is some, stand on end and sway like cilia on an 
ameoba. Good God!
  Her fingers start to stroke my chest, exploring the new 
muscles that lie beneath. She works all over my body, down 
each arm and leg. No area is left untouched, no muscle 
unexplored. Well, one.
  Each caress does things I cannot describe. Pleasure, pain,  all is one,
and my embarassment fades. But not it's cause. 
  I know that I tremble with each touch. I think I feel her 
shudder as well. 
  "Now is the time I take my payment." 
  I force my eyes open, for they had been screwed shut. I look  at her
with uncomprehending eyes.
  She is kneeling at the top of my bed, holding a single 
icecube in her hand. She reaches out and places it on my left  nipple.
  My breath is ragged and I must force it in and out.She holds  it there
for a minute or two, and I become used to the 
sensation.
  "Now hold _very_ _still_." The icecube held by her left hand  is
repalced by a long needle. My eyes widen almost to saucers.  No, not that!
  "This won't hurt a bit."
  With a quick jab, it is done. The needle slides through, and  I can feel
it pull on the skin. Strangely, it does not 
actually hurt. I did not look, for I was afraid.
  When I opened my eyes, I saw that there, attached to my 
nipple was a small, simple silver ring. Nothing gaudy, or 
terribly outrageous. Still, I would not ordinarily be willing  put it
there.
  I wonder now, if I will turn back. I should, even Ranma 
turns back and forth with a water temperature change. Could it  be that I
have been similarly cursed? To always be turned into  a man with cold
water? Would my sexual orientation change  depending on my form? Or would
I retain my fixation on men.
  I'll think about that later...
  I know only one thing. I know who I love.
  
--------------------------------------------------------------
Personal note to self:
  Change the names. Correct spelling and grammer mistakes.
  Also, remove gender-switch & emphasize bondage more. 
  Think about changing a gender(straight male/female)
  
  I really like this story, Diary. I really don't know where  the Idea
came from, but... I do like this story. I hope to God  that Ranma or
Nabiki does not find this. I'd just die.
  Good night!
  akane tendo 
  
  
(farther down the last page, in largish, if not sloppy handwriting)
  Akane,
    Is this an open invitation?
  ranma.
  
  
(Akane's face never faltered from beet red for three days.)



hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

So, now that I have had my fun, what did you people think?

Please respond to:
  Turbo@relex.com

(p.s. Yes, I know that I have other stories on hold. I am 
getting to them! Really!)

(p.p.s. real life sucks)
  
  

-- 
-----------------------------------------------------------
turbo@relex.com
-----------------------------------------------------------