SEXUALLY SPEAKING
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Statistically Speaking free porn video
Author's note: I wrote this story two years ago and posted
it on another site under the name Ken Allen. If you have
seen this story before, it is NOT being plagiarized! I now
post my stories on Fictionmania under the name Sue Kidder.
My thanks to Bill Hart for the use of his "Spells 'R Us"
universe. I hope I haven't mangled his characters too much.
Statistically Speaking
By Sue Kidder, (AKA Ken Allen)
The bell chimed softly as Harold opened the door and
entered the Spells 'R Us shop. He had heard rumors of this
strange store around campus, but never believed them. After
all, he was a mathematician, a scientist. Magic can't be
real. Can it?
Harold stood just inside the door and surveyed the shop.
All manner of odd objects appeared to be displayed
everywhere, in no apparent order. The items looked like
they ranged in age from ancient pre-historic artifacts such
as Indonesian tribal fertility statues to a very modern and
new-looking remote control for a television. As cluttered
as it was, however, it looked clean and well kept.
"Howdy, Harold. Welcome to my shop."
Startled, Harold jumped when he was addressed. He was
suddenly aware of an elderly man in an old bathrobe
standing in front of him. He must have been daydreaming he
thought, or he would surely have seen the old man
approaching.
"Er... Howdy, Sir. I'm afraid you have the advantage of
me," Harold said. "How did you know my name?"
The old man sighed. "Well, I am a wizard, after all.
Knowing things is part of the job description. I even knew
to throw in the 'howdy' as a standard Oklahoma greeting."
Harold decided this was the person he wanted to talk to,
and there was no time like the present. The store was empty
except for him and the old man, so there should be time to
get some answers if there were answers to be had.
"Sir, may I have a few minutes of your time? I'd like to
ask some questions about a subject that has been bothering
me for awhile."
"Sure, Harold. What's on your mind?" The old man sat down
on an old orange crate Harold hadn't noticed before, and
motioned him to another.
Harold sat. "I'm majoring in math at Tulsa University and
specializing in statistical analysis. In spite of the old
adage about 'lies, damn lies, and statistics,' this
discipline has very valuable uses. Market analysis allows
manufacturers to know what to make and retailers what to
stock. Viewer statistics govern the content of the
television schedules, and allow advertisers to know when
and where their ads will get the best response. Political
polls give politicians an idea what the electorate wants,
as well as giving the gamblers realistic odds for election
results. Statistics permeate our lives and sometimes even
govern our society."
"I don't know if this is necessarily a good thing," the old
man said, "but I can't dispute what you say. Given all
this, what's your problem?"
"There is one statistic I cannot resolve. All others make
sense intuitively or at least have a calculable margin of
error. This one makes no sense, and I can't find any
rationale for error except possible outside manipulation.
And that manipulation would have to be magical!"
"And this is why you sought me out? To ask a wizard if this
outside magical interference is real?" The old man got up
and walked to a nearby refrigerator Harold didn't remember
seeing. He came back with two bottles of soda. "Grapette?"
he said, handing one to Harold.
"Thank you, Sir. Yes, that's correct. I wanted to talk to a
magician or wizard, if such a person existed. I'll admit my
skepticism about magic, but I'm willing to listen. I can
find no other explanation for this anomaly."
"And this anomaly would be?" Prompted the old man.
"The ratio of males to females over different age ranges,"
Harold replied. "Statistically, there are about 106 males
born for every 100 females born. By age 30, there are
almost exactly as many males as females. But by age 60,
there are only about 90 males for every 100 females."
"Don't females have a longer life expectancy than males?"
"That's true, but life expectancies are themselves a
statistic. Plus, the average life expectancy is almost 70
for both sexes, so these ratios should not show such a
drastic drift until later."
"Okay," the old man responded, "then what about males' more
dangerous lifestyles? More males than females die by
accidents, don't they?"
"Yes, and more males die by warfare, also. But not enough
to account for this discrepancy. This country hasn't been
in a war with significant casualties in more than thirty
years."
Harold sipped his Grapette. That's a good soda, he thought.
Wonder why it's not more popular? I'll have to run an
analysis of soda pop preferences one of these days.
"Sounds like quite a conundrum," the old man agreed. "What
conclusions have you drawn?"
Harold swallowed another sip of his Grapette and sighed.
Here comes the hard part, and he knew he was going to sound
like an idiot. But, nothing ventured...
"The only conclusion I've been able to draw, crazy as it
sounds, is that somebody or something is turning men into
women. Given the current state of our technology, the only
thing that could do that in the kind of scale necessary
would be magic!"
The old man looked at Harold. At least he wasn't laughing
out loud. "If someone or something was using magical means
to transform men into women, that would solve your
conundrum. But you'd still need to explain WHY they or it
would do this, wouldn't you?"
"There you have me. I can think of no sane reason. Of
course, maybe the magical agent is NOT sane? Still, you'd
think there would have to be a reason of some kind. I'm
stumped. That's why I hoped you might have some insight to
help me figure this out."
"Why did you think I could help? You admit you are
skeptical about magic, and this seems a purely scientific
puzzle you're trying to solve."
"You're right," Harold agreed. "I came here as a last,
desperate effort to find the answer. In spite of my
skepticism about magic, there were good reasons for me to
seek you out for help on this problem."
"What reasons?" the old man asked.
"Rumors around campus say mysterious and weird things
happen to people who visit your shop. Boys are often turned
into girls, men into women, and so forth. And the shop
itself is said to appear at random in malls all over the
world. Rumors are rumors, and sometimes may contain an
element of truth somewhere within them, so I examined this
one closely. If there is anything at all to the reality of
magic, your shop would appear to be the real thing."
"What convinced you? Have you spoken to one of these male-
to-female transformees?" The old man smiled.
"I've tried to identify some of these ex-men, but haven't
been able to find any. Evidently the magic resolves their
identities as female to everybody who knew them, and even
modifies their records so it is impossible to prove they
were ever anything but female. I even suspect that the
transformees are mentally adjusted to know themselves as
female, with no memories of a masculine past life. If any
do remember their male lives, then they are apparently
satisfied with the changes and refuse to let anybody know
they were anything other than they appear. No, the
convincing clue was your name."
"My name? But you don't know my name," the old man said.
"Your shop's name," Harold said. "Here in Oklahoma is a
trucking company that used to be called Trucks 'R Us. After
several months the company changed its name to Trucks-For-
You, requiring an obviously expensive repainting of all
their trucks and signs. You can probably imagine the court
fight that ensued before the Toys 'R Us trademark owners
won the battle.
"Yet here you are, floating all over the place with a name
like Spells 'R Us. In today's litigious society the only
thing that would allow you to continue doing that without
spending millions in legal costs would be magic. So I've
come here hoping you could confirm my theory," Harold said.
"Sorry," the old man said. "I can't fault your reasoning,
so I won't try to argue you out of your conclusions. If I
ever become aware of anything like this going on, I'll send
you a message. Until then, perhaps your data is inaccurate,
or your calculations lack a factor you haven't yet
considered."
Harold sipped the last of his Grapette, then got up and
placed the empty bottle in a rack hanging over the
refrigerator. Hailey turned back to the old man, stuck out
her hand and shook his.
"Thank you for your time, Sir. I appreciate you humoring a
crazy and befuddled grad student. Thank you also for the
soda."
As Hailey left the shop, the old man said, "Good luck with
your problem!"
She turned back and flashed him a beautiful smile. As she
departed the mall, she thought to herself that perhaps she
shouldn't wait too long to find a husband. Statistically,
the pickings get slimmer as she gets older.
Dannie walked in from the back room. "You old curmudgeon!
Why did you do that to him? He was the most respectful and
polite customer you've had in months."
The old man finished his own non-magical Grapette and put
the empty bottle in the rack. "In the first place, you'll
notice that he was not a customer. He didn't buy a thing!
And in the second place, he was so close to the truth I
felt he deserved to become one of the statistics he loved
playing with. It seemed appropriate, somehow."
"Why didn't you 'fess up and tell him that he was correct
in his conclusions? That was a very remarkable young man to
figure out what was going on from such meager clues!"
"It's not time yet for the world to know about our gender
crusade. I was tempted to tell him that he was one hundred
percent correct, but then I would have had to explain why
we are doing this. It is not yet time to let the world know
that a day is coming when it will be very important for
most of the population to be female!"
"Still, old man, I've never known you to lie before today.
You never admitted that you knew anything about these
magical gender changes, but you did promise to send a
message if you ever became aware of them."
"I did not lie. Hailey is completely female, and knows it,
and the magic altered reality to support that gender all
the way back to her birth. All her friends, family, and
associates know her as female. Such is the power of magic.
But I sent a message, as I promised. If she thinks to look
for it, and understands it when she sees it, then she will
have her answer."
"Really, old man? What was the message?"
"Her birth certificate shows her birth sex as 'M'!" The old
man grinned.
Hortense
- 31.05.2021
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