Facing Justice
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A Simple Girl's Justice free porn video
A Simple Girl's Justice
By TouchedBug
I stand on the rotting wood of the dock leading out to the Rio Grande,
careful that my soft feet aren't pierced by a splinter or stray nail. A
moment is taken to enjoy the trickling sound of the river and the
buzzing of insects singing their mating song. During the day this
stretch of the Rio Grande which runs through the Texas town of New
Braunfels is congested with inner tube sailing, beer guzzling tourists
effectively turning the river into a carnival freak show of bawdy
behavior. Once the sun set however it a calm overtakes the river and it
is almost as if nature has reclaimed her serenity.
But I am not here to appreciate the sights and sounds of the river.
A cool air causes my small frame to tremble. Texas nights can be
deceptively chilly this time of year, especially at night... Of course,
my garb wasn't helping matters. Wet and with only a pair of shorts and
my bikini top to cover me I wasn't exactly in the right dress for the
grim undertaking ahead of me.
I look to my prize: a 40 year old man at the end of the dock. His arms
and legs are strapped to a rusty old tetherball pole with a concrete
base precariously positioned at the end of a dock. Dried blood cakes
his lips from where I'd earlier struck him with a shovel.
"You stand accused of first degree murder and rape of a minor. How do
you plead?" My voice is clear and full of authority superseding my
body's years.
Still dazed the man looks up at me. With my sweet freckled face,
shoulder length red hair, and nimble body which weighed not much over
ninety pounds, no one would ever believe that I'd beaten and hog-tied
the man who would have dominated me in just about every way if we'd been
placed in a ring together.
Those people didn't know me.
"How do you plead?" I ask again when he does not answer.
I hold a long, cruel survival knife in my right hand. Just like the one
John Rambo carried. I'd taken it from a man who was anything but Rambo.
A blonde haired, round jawed yuppie had drawn this knife on me. Now he
was tied to a pole.
Another pause. The accused shakes his head, regaining some of his
cognitive functions. As soon as he does he looks up at me, working the
kindest smile in the county.
"May, honey bear," he said in that voice which ran sweet as nectar,
"What is this all about?"
"Seventeen years ago you committed an unthinkable crime," I respond,
then took a breath, not wanting to lose myself in this all important
moment. It took every bit of restraint not to slit the bastard's throat
right this instant. "A crime which you were set on committing again
tonight."
"I don't know--" he begins, but I cut him off.
"Nicole Thompson."
My words ring over the sound of the river as a hushed whisper almost as
if I'd recited a witch's spell. The accused visibly squirms, his mouth
no doubt dry as he attempts to muster a rebuttal.
"May, what on earth are you talking about? You're accusing me of crimes
you weren't alive to see!"
"Wrong! I was born June 3, 1998. The same day you murdered Nicole." I
take another deep breath. Keeping my composure under these
circumstances is difficult. "Nicole was a simple girl. A cute young
lady who always obeyed her mother and father, didn't stay out late, and
was at church every Sunday. She hoped to play the violin someday. She
didn't get to. Why didn't she?"
"I don't-"
"Because of you!" I raise my voice just short of a shout before driving
the knife deep into the wood of the dock. SHTUCK! "You raped her!
Then you cut her into so many pieces that not even her own parents could
recognize what had once been their baby girl."
He shook his head in disbelief. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"The simple girl born to bring you to justice."
What I said was true. May Sanders had been born solely to put this
man's life to an end... but my life didn't begin 17 years ago.
Believe it or not seven months ago I was a robust man of 48. Frank
Marsh was my name, and I served twenty five grueling years as a homicide
detective for the Houston Police Department. It was a career cut short
by a hoodlum's bullets in a Exxon Tiger Mart. Rather than being
shuffled off this mortal coil like another diseased animal I was given
second chance to solve the case which had long haunted my nightmares.
The Light --a supernatural force which I could never hope to explain--
saw it fit to bring me back to put a close to the case that had ate away
at my gut. It brought me back as May, the 16 year old daughter of
Joseph and Edith Sanders.
It was quite a shock, let me tell you. One moment I'm bleeding out on
the floor of a gas station the next I'm in the back seat of the Sanders'
sedan with long read hair tickling my nose and the weight of small, firm
breasts on my chest. It'd be enough to drive a fella mad, and indeed I
nearly succumb to hysteria.
That's when this being of light gave me guidance. It knew of Nicole and
my determination to find her killer. Speaking to me it praised my
values as a cop and offered me the chance to bring Nicole's killer.
Immediately I knew the cruel catch to this offer; why I'd been brought
back as this young woman. I was going to be the bait that would bring
the killer out of hiding. A sweet young girl not unlike Nicole.
A lesser man likely would have cracked and wished death over such
emasculation, but I saw not to look a gift horse in the mouth. I would
play by this celestial being's rules and would see to it that Nicole's
killer was brought to justice.
And that's how I came to spend the past seven months as May Sanders, a
red-haired Texas girl with a spunky attitude. I had to teach myself how
to dress in bright shades of pink and yellow, revisit high school, deal
with the wandering eyes of teenage boys, and boorish adults who should
know better. All of those physical and mental trials had led to this
moment.
While preparing for the ordeals of being a teenage girl I also didn't
slack when it came to preparing for the eventual confrontation I'd been
reborn for. I made sure to keep a sharp look out for any potential
threats who could match Nicole's killer, and thought up strategies for
how I could take the man down once I found him.
I approached my new father, asked him to instruct me in firearms which
he questioned at first, but quickly gave in, no doubt wanting some
quality bonding time with his daughter. This is Texas after all, and
nothing seems to please a father more than to take his child to their
first shooting range. There he was immediately shocked by how easily I
picked up on things, but it filled his breast with pride. In addition
to the target practice, and getting used to the strength of my new body
it also allowed me to memorize the code to father's gun safe.
By the end of all this I was sure that I'd be ready the instant the
killer revealed himself... But you can never truly be prepared to meet
the face of evil.
Over spring break, having grown comfortable in a bikini I'd been
enjoying my time on the Rio Grande. At the twilight hour I was enjoying
one last tube ride down the rapids. As I approached the steps to the
dock which would lead back to my new family's river house he revealed
himself.
"May," he said in such a tone as to send shivers straight to my soul.
He spoke longer, but I didn't need anything else to confirm it. I'd
seen this man numerous times at school and at social events. His smile
warmed the heart, and he appeared as if he belonged in a sitcom as the
perfect All-American Dad. All that time he'd been hiding in plain sight
and I hadn't realized it until his intentions were laid bare.
Too bad for him he'd chosen the wrong girl.
I threw my inner tube at him and dashed to his right before he could
respond. As I made it past him I could see the glint of knife. I had
no weapons, and would have to act fast. He made an attempt to grab at
me, but I was too fast.
Of course, he gave chase.
As I ran I ditched my flip-flops to provide greater maneuverability as I
ran. If I'd been in my old body I could have easily overpowered this
brute, but I wasn't Detective Marsh. I was May Sanders, 90 pound girl
wearing nothing but board shorts and halter bikini top.
A construction site was my target. Some rich folk's house was washed
away in the last flood and they were hoping to rebuild. I don't know
how this house would ultimately fare compared to their previous one, but
I knew it was the perfect opportunity to surprise my assailant.
Picking a shovel as my instrument of choice I waited behind the corner
of the unfinished hallway. I knew if I botched this up I was a goner
and some other detective would undoubtedly be left scratching his head
over my murder for the next 17 years.
Thankfully my attacker wasn't too bright when it came down to the chase.
Clearly he didn't expect his prize to be ready for him, or else he'd
have been careful to slow his steps, or at least remove those boots
which thundered along.
The thunder approach and I pulled back the shovel, ready to hit the
homerun of my career.
Closer...closer. Closer, closer- Now!
WHAM! As he came around the corner his face connected with my blow. I
was tempted to yell "Timber!" as he fell, but managed to restrain
myself. From there it wasn't difficult to restrain him and use a
wheelbarrow to bring him to the abandoned dock where his final judgment
would be dealt.
"You can't possibly know about her," he stammers. Not such a cool
cucumber now, are you slick?
"I know a lot of things. I know how she died... Just as I know how
you'll die," I said with great relish.
I approached him and placed a hand on his chest. This caused him to
cringe. I could feel his heartbeat coming through strong as if the
organ was attempting to flee the body. Funny how one so small as May
Sanders now had this vile creature reeling in horror. I wanted to make
this man suffer as Nicole had. As I would have if he'd had his way...
But I refuse to bring myself down to his level. He isn't worth the
time.
A kick was all it took to send him down to the inky abyss, screaming all
the way.
I waited until the last bubble had broken the surface before leaving the
scene. A monumental weight had finally been lifted from my shoulders.
A thought occurs to me that I my new parents must be worried sick and I
take off, being sure to pickup my flip-flops on the way. I feel a new
energy coursing through my veins as if all the doubts and worries of my
past have been taken down to the lake with him.
For the first time in 16 years I am free.
---
Once at the family river house I immediately realize how hungry I was.
Luckily I smell the enticing scent of the meat on the grill as I walked
up the slope leading from the river to my family's modest estate.
"May, sweetie!" my new mother exclaimed with great concern. You said
you were only taking one last run down the rapids. What took you so
long?"
"Nothing, mom," I said in the perfect tone of a dismissive teen. "I
just got a bit distracted on the way back."
"Well, just you remember it's a mother's duty to worry."
I sat myself at the table where a steaming hot dog and wide array of
condiments awaited.
There were so many things left in my future. I still needed to finish
reading "Nineteen Eighty-Four" for my English class, three chapters of
American History. Then the prom was coming up, and although I was but a
junior, I knew a few fellas who loved given me the eye, so dress
selection was bound to be on the horizon. The thought of being prettied
up for a dance made me blush, and almost elicited a giggle.
A simple girl's work is never done.
The End
End Note:
Howdy! Thanks for reading my first swing at this unique genre of
fiction! This short story is the basis for a full-length drama I'd love
to develop. So if you're interested in the general premise please let
me know!
Emely
- 21.05.2022
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