Winds of Change
By: Light Clark
Synopsis: Ian hated the life that he'd been given. School, home, and
everything in between was just unbearable. Then one day, he took a
different path during that inbetween and discovered something that
could change it all, but it was a gamble. Would it be worth the risk?
Warning: This story is 'technically' set in the Whateley universe. It
uses no characters or places from that universe; just borrows a few
terms and general thematics. It is certainly not canon.
Note: This is a rerelease of an older work, so it may seem familiar.
However, it has been heavily edited since its first publishing, so it
is substantially different from its original release.
Chapter 01
"What a fucking nerd," Dramond, a beefy black boy, scoffed right before
shoving Ian as hard as he could.
The chubby teen literally went flying from the force, though, he didn't
fly far. The brick wall of a nearby building did an excellent job of
halting his impromptu liftoff after only a couple of feet, knocking the
wind out of him in the process. Hacking breathlessly, Ian crumpled to
his knees, clutching at his ribs and making pitiful wheezing noises.
"Come on. Get up, fucker," Vic, Dramond's lanky white partner in
crime, ordered, grabbing Ian's shirt to pull him back to his feet. He
only did it so that he could shove the boy again.
This time, Ian didn't even find his knees after he bounced off the
wall. Instead, he flopped onto his side, glasses falling off to bounce
against the pavement. Through the pain, he started to reach for them
still gasping for breath, but his hand moved too slowly.
There was a loud crunch as Dramond crushed the glasses under foot.
"Whoops. Were those yours?" he asked sarcastically, laughing along
with Vic, but his amusement didn't last long as Ian could do little but
squirm on the ground in pain. "Come on, bro. This toy's broken.
We'll find him again once he's fixed." There was a nod from Vic and
the two boys walked off, leaving Ian to his misery.
After several more moments of pain and gasping, Ian finally managed a
real breath. A few more moments after that, he shoved himself up
enough to sit against the wall. "Assholes," he hissed angrily, not for
the first time wishing he was big enough to fight back. If he could,
he'd show them what broken really was.
Thoughts of broken things drew Ian's gaze to his glasses. It was his
third broken pair this month. "Bet mom's gonna yell at me again about
taking care of my stuff," he grumbled, grabbing the broken frame before
rising to his feet. "As if I it was my fault that those two dimwits
decide to break them."
Ian dusted himself off as he looked around to make sure he hadn't
dropped anything else in the scuffle. At least this time, the two boys
hadn't stolen his money or torn up his clothes, like they normally did.
Not that he ever wore expensive clothes or carried much money, but it
was still obnoxious to lose either.
With nothing else out of sorts, Ian justed turned to continue on his
way home. It was only a couple of blocks until he made it to his
apartment building, a run down, rat-infested, mess, but it was home.
He and his mom were lucky to have even this much, with his mother
scraping out survival working a pair of shitty waitress jobs.
"Mom?" Ian called as he stepped into the apartment There was,
expectantly, no reply, indicating that his mother was currently
working. Given what she did, it was best for her to work dinner shifts
- that was where the money was - so she was rarely around when he got
home from school.
"I wonder if there's anything to eat," Ian mused aloud, moving into the
dingy little kitchen and pulling open the refrigerator. The shelves
were all but bare, with just a half finished carton of milk and some
condiments sitting on them. The cupboard wasn't really any better, but
he did find some cereal to combine with the milk. It would mean no
breakfast for the next day, but breakfast was easier to go without than
dinner.
Bowl in hand, Ian found a seat on the couch, since there was no kitchen
table, and flipped on the little tv that his family owned. He didn't
really watch the tv, though, his gaze mostly drifting out the window to
where the grime of the city was clearly visible in the late day sun.
It was fitting in his mind, a shitty apartment sitting in a shitty city
in the midst of a shitty world.
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Ian tapped his pencil eraser on his desk as he listened to his teacher
droning on and on at the front of the room. The class, algebra, was
ridiculously easy, but because of the plethora of morons that filled
the seats, along with the poor quality of the school itself, the
teacher had to go very slowly, repeating himself frequently. To Ian,
it felt like a whole class to explain that the sun is yellow, but there
was nothing he could do about it. The school didn't have the money to
handle the rare intelligent student and just lumped them in with the
rest.
Of course, Ian wasn't the only person not paying attention, although,
most of the others that were doing so could not have answered a
question at that moment. Learning was not really a high priority at
this school for either teachers or students. A few at the front row
would put forth the effort, imagining that someday they might go to
community college and get a job that didn't pay minimum wage. Most of
the kids, though, sat in the rest of the rows, dreaming about being pro
athletes or master criminals or married to one of those things, with no
regard to their lack of talent or intellect. Even so, these were the
same people that assaulted and ridiculed him, a thought that sickened
Ian.
The moment the bell rang, Ian was out of his desk, moving quite quickly
in spite of his short, stodgy physique. He wanted out of the school as
quickly as possible, so that any thugs that tried to find him that day
would not notice that he'd taken a different route home. It would
result in a slightly longer walk, but it would keep him from losing his
last pair of glasses.
Naturally, Ian's plan worked just as he predicted. He was out before
anyone who might care could see where he went. He was so confident of
that, once he was out of sight, he slowed to a casual stroll, looking
around at the buildings as he went.
The surrounding buildings were in no better shape than Ian's apartment
- dirty and rundown. They were a testament to some past golden age of
the city that had long since run it's course. Now, they were mostly
abandoned, used more often by criminals than anyone else. Ian had had
more than one close call where he'd stumbled into the midst of criminal
activity while satisfying his curiosity about some strange noise or odd
light.
Today, it was an unfamiliar smell that reached out and grabbed Ian's
inquisitive mind and piqued its interest. Normally the area smelled
... old, full of rust, mold, and the dusty air of a place mostly
forgotten. Today though, it smelled of something new, a ripe pungent
smell like garbage that had sat in the can for far too long. Whatever
it was, the smell was quite strong.
Stepping off into a small alley, Ian followed his nose, searching for
the smell. He was no blood hound or anything, but anything with a
sense of smell could have followed a stench this potent. It kept
getting stronger as he moved until, it was so bad that he had to cover
his nose and mouth with his hand to press on. Finally, Ian turned into
a small alcove at the end of the alley and found what he was searching
for sitting against the wall. It was not a pleasant discovery
On the ground lay a corpse that was bloated and discolored with flies
and maggots crawling around on it. It had once been a man, an older
gentleman with brown hair that was perhaps half gray. He was dressed
in a suit, and had in his lap a silver metal briefcase. The case was
splattered red with blood, partially obscuring what appeared to be the
wound that had killed the man, a gunshot to gut.
It was not Ian's first dead body. He'd seen a mugging victim that had
been shot once, and he'd buried both his grandparents but this one was
certainly in the worst state of the bunch. The disgusting condition of
the body was enough to make him quite queasy, but it not enough to kill
his curiosity, or even get him to empty his stomach on the ground.
Frowning at the corpse, Ian wondered what could have brought such a man
to this part of town. His first guess was that he was some kind of
important villain, or someone that worked for one of them. There were
a few powerful mutants in the area that were set up somewhere in the
jungle of abandoned buildings and underground tunnels. Of course some
regular old crime boss might have need to employ the dapperly dressed
fellow as well.
"Well, let's see what you had that was worth killing over," Ian mused,
kneeling down to grab the case and yank it from the dead man's hands.
There were no markings on the case, and it seemed to be locked, which
Ian took as a sign that likely whatever the contents were, they were
still waiting inside. "I guess I need to find something to open it."
Keeping hold of the case, Ian hurried back out of the alley, leaving
the dead man behind in the alcove. Gone was his leisurely stroll as he
jogged the remaining blocks to his building, huffing for breath as he
did. He didn't feel safe again until he had the door shut and locked
behind him.
"It looks pretty sturdy, so I guess I try to pick it?" Ian postulated,
looking around for his tools for lockpicking. He'd picked them up a
few years back when he'd had an interest in learning how hard it really
was to do. It turned out to vary greatly by the lock, and this one
would not be easy.
Hour after hour slipped by as Ian worked on the lock, using a special
stethoscope kind of thing to listen as he spun the dials. Finally, the
case clicked, the lid popping open slightly as it did. "Yes!" Ian
exclaimed in delight at his accomplishment. "Now it's time to see
what's inside."
Flipping the lid fully open, Ian was treated to a view of a few
thumbdrives and a small vial of blue fluid inside a case that was
mostly filled with cushioning foam. There was a brief moment of
disappointment for the teen when it wasn't just a massive pile of
money, like one sees in the movies. The disappointment didn't last,
however, as Ian's curiosity quickly took over again.
Thumbdrives in hand, Ian plopped down at his ancient computer. It
loaded up just fine, if a bit slow, showing folders worth of graphs and
pictures and lots and lots of documents. He was quite smart, but as he
looked through a few documents, he felt confident in admitting that
this stuff was way beyond him. He knew that it had something to do
with proteins and enzymes and lots of very complicated looking
chemistry formulas. The second thumbdrive seemed to go into results of
the compound and testing, but it really didn't make much more sense
than the first drive. Undoubted by the complexity, Ian kept with it,
scanning through page after page to try to make some sort of sense of
it all.
The night seemed to just slip away as Ian read. While he did, his
mother came back, slept, and left for her second job at a breakfast
diner. By the time he had any understanding of the documents, the sun
was already risen, and he sat there with dark circles under his eyes
trying to read a screen gone blurry from staring at it too long. The
light of the sun cresting the buildings was enough to get him to lean
back in his seat, rubbing at his eyes and thinking about what he read.
As far as he could tell, it was some kind of serum, derived from
another scientist's work, that was intended to induce a specifically
designed mutation in the person it was injected in.
"Devisor stuff," Ian muttered, attributing at least some of his lack of
understanding of the documentation to the fact that it was something
that wasn't actually comprehensible in the first place. If someone had
killed for it, that meant whatever was in the vial would probably work,
and the documents included administration instructions. However, if it
was devisor tech like he suspected, it probably wouldn't work quite the
way it was supposed to. He remembered there being a devisor lab not
that far from where he lived that had 'spontaneously combusted' because
of one of the mutant's inventions.
"Still, it is a little tempting," Ian remarked as he looked at the
little vial. If he was honest with himself, it was more than just a
little tempting. That little glass tube could well be an answer to all
his problems. He could get out of the shitty life he was stuck
immediately, not in ten years or more. He couldn't just inject
himself, though. Not until he'd run through the results document a few
more times to at least see what awaited him if he did.
In the meantime, Ian decided that today was clearly a day to skip
school. He carefully returned everything to its place in the case,
then hid the case under his desk. With his treasure secured, he
flopped onto the bed, letting exhaustion take him to sleep while he
dreamed about superpowers.
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"Alright, so exemplar are the Adonis ones," Ian mused as he looked
through the notes on the serum results. "Well I guess technically this
one would be more an Aphrodite."
It had taken a couple days worth of work, but Ian, with some help from
the internet,had managed to explain enough of the words in the
documents for it to finally make some semblance of sense out of it.
This serum was apparently intended to force an exemplar mutation onto
someone, one that was programmed to adhere to a specific kind of mold.
In the case of this particularly serum, it seemed to have been designed
for a woman, intending to generate a body that would be attractive,
resilient, and slow aging - undoubtedly intended to create some perfect
trophy wife for a billionaire.
The girl part was only the first snag in the serum that Ian had
discovered. It apparently had a pretty high variance rate, as well,
with lots of ranges listed from height to coloration that were all
supposed to be possible outcomes. There was variance even beyond that,
though, into the realm of extraneous mutations or bizarre appearances.
This was where it got frightening, since the creator's far from
conclusive testing indicated at least a thirty percent fatality rate,
and a very high, ninety percent, rate of unanticipated mutation in
subjects.
Ian hummed softly as he held up the small vial, trying to weigh the
pros and cons. It would change everything, that was certain, give him
power that he'd never dreamed of holding, having long ago given up on
the dream of manifesting himself. Conversely, it could easily kill
him, and even if it worked perfectly, seemed likely to leave him as an
attractive woman. There were no tests done on male subjects, though,
so it was hard to tell exactly what his end results might be.
The gender issue only brought up more things for Ian to weigh.
Certainly, there were advantages to being an attractive woman. They
held a certain power over men, allowing them to live lives that, at
least to Ian, seemed far easier than their male counterparts. He
wasn't particularly fond of the idea of sleeping with men, but he could
always just be a lesbian to avoid that particular problem.
At the same time, it was hard for Ian to come up with things about
being his male self that were positives. He would be stronger,
healthier, and longer-lived after the serum, regardless of the gender
change. His male self was not attractive in any way, a hindrance to
his chances with girls that probably outweighed the numbers difference
in having to pursue lesbians if he used the serum. The most compelling
argument that he could think of was that he was quite satisfied with
his current plumbing and exchanging it for the alternative elicited the
gut reaction of queasiness. After all, the female equivalent seemed
rather awkward, uncomfortable, and inefficient.
"So much risk," Ian whispered as he glanced toward the briefcase where
the little vial still sat. "So much reward."
The serum was tantalizing, like finding the holy grail or some equally
impossible dream. Like all such impossible dreams, it had terrible
downsides that someone worthy had to overcome to be granted its power.
Was he worthy? He certainly thought so, but this wasn't a storybook.
Worthiness didn't decide whether he'd live or die. There would be
science that decided that, science that he didn't, couldn't,
understand. He wanted it to be like the stories, though, wanted this
to be his ticket out of the miserable existence he was trapped in, and
because of that, he couldn't pass it up.
Looking away from the case, Ian turned to a different item, one that
was even more recently acquired and sitting on his desk - a needle.
The instructions said that he needed to inject the vial's contents
directly into his heart, so he'd had to acquire a needle for that
purpose, and learn how to use it. He thought it would be terribly
funny if, in the end, it was nothing about the serum that killed him,
but his own ineptitude at injecting it.
Grabbing the needle, Ian removed his shirt and laid down on the bed.
He carefully prepared the needle with the vial just as the instructions
directed. It took him several deep breaths to steady himself as he
aimed the needle toward his heart. One swift jab and it was in. Ian
worked the plunger immediately the quickly pulled out the needle before
the shock of the insertion could freeze him up. Instantly, fire seemed
to burn through his veins, creating a burst of pain that curled him up
into the fetal position, twitching feebly with each beat of his heart.
Luckily for him, he passed out after only a few beats.
When Ian awoke, his whole body ached, as if his very bones were
bruised. He just laid there for several moments, before he finally
managed to sit up. The clock showed a time that was twelve hours later
and served as a reminder of what it was later than.
Ian's gaze dropped to his body, knowing that it wouldn't be different
yet, but part of him still expected to see something slight. The notes
had said it would take two to four weeks, so it was no surprise that he
looked exactly the same. There were the same blubbery man boobs and
thick fleshy belly as he always saw.
"Guess I might get to drop the man part of that at some point," Ian
joked to himself in a voice raspy from dehydration.
Wobbly and exhausted even after the long nap, Ian shoved himself off
the bed and made his way to the bathroom, intent on cleaning up a bit
and grabbing a drink. He was sweaty and gross from the painful
experience, so a shower seemed like a good idea. It did help a bit to
sooth the horrid ache.
"I can't really skip much more," Ian mused as he showered, trying to
figure out a plan for going forward. He felt like shit, and school
would be really hard to handle while he felt like that, but he didn't
see much of a choice. He could fake a note from his mom to excuse some
of it, but they'd be pretty suspicious of him missing multiple weeks
off a note. For the time being, he'd just have tough it out.
Once the shower was finished, Ian was back out into his room. With
another day of school missed by his passing out, he plopped down in his
computer chair and did his best to see if he could decipher any more of
the documents. He didn't really focus on that, though. Instead, he
mostly looked at the charts showing the many variances that were
possible and wondering where he'd end up. As focused on that as he
was, he wasn't even sure what outcome he was hoping to get. He guessed
tall was better than short, but he had no idea how wide he'd want his
hips to be, or how many cubic centimeters of boob he was hoping to
possess. Some of the variance rates were quite large, and it seemed
likely that some combinations of it would be unattractive. There were
notes indicating some correlation in the numbers, that the bigger some
numbers were the more likely the other numbers were to be big too, but
it was far from precise or rigorous. Ian silently cursed the scientist
that had done such a poor job of testing the serum's effects. Because
of that unknown person, all he could really do was hope that whatever
he ended up as, it was better than where he started.
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Chapter 02
"Lookin' a little busty there, dweeb. What'd you do; pack in a few
extra candy bars this week or did you spring for some implants?"
Dramond taunted, snickering at his own joke.
In no mood to handle harassment that day, Ian frowned while his eyes
narrowed. The aching hadn't left his body in the days since the
injection, and he'd become increasingly irritable over time. He'd
snapped at people that were being reasonable several times because of
it, so he was outright furious at someone who was being anything but.
In reality, though, there was some truth to the taunt, which actually
helped Ian reel his anger in slightly. His moobs had stayed roughly
the same size, but he had lost weight overall the last few days, making
them appear larger and more noticeable compared to the rest of him - a
decidedly not flattering look for a boy. However, the physical changes
meant progress toward getting out of this nonsense to Ian, progress he
was so very eager for in spite of the misgivings his male mind had with
the direction that he was headed.
"Just get out of my way, Dramond," Ian finally requested, only a hint
of defiance in his voice rather than the heaping helping that he'd
almost used.
Dramond's eyes narrowed at that, but it was Vic that spoke up. "Sure,
we'll get out of the way, once you pay the toll. It's all the money in
your wallet. Now."
"That is not going to happen, asshole," Ian spat, his bad mood getting
the better of his judgement. "You should go make your own money."
Dramond didn't even wait for Vic to retort. Instead, he just lashed
out with a fist. Having been on the receiving end of many punches, Ian
managed to get his hands up to block in time, deflecting the fist wide
enough so that it only clipped his ribs rather than smack right into
his solar plexus.
While the block was good, the fact that Vic joined right in the fight
right after it defintely wasn't. He lunged at Ian, grabbing an arm as
he went. Somehow, Ian managed to break free of the grip before Vic
could yank him into a hold. He had only a moment to marvel at that
miracle before Dramond's follow up haymaker clocked him right in the
jaw.
Stars sprang into Ian's vision as he went down hard. He wasn't
completely out, but he definitely wasn't getting back up after a hit
like that. A few kicks served as a follow up, before one of the two
bullies fiddled around in Ian's pockets to grab his wallet. They
snatched the cash and flung the wallet back down to smack Ian in the
face.
Once the mugging was done, Dramond leaned down low in front of Ian,
pulling a switchblade out to hold in front of the teen's face. The
blade clicked out ominously. "You ever speak like that to me again,
you stupid fuck, and I'll gut you like the fat little piggy you are."
After that, there was one last kick before the two boys left, leaving
Ian groaning from his beating.
"Well that did not make me feel any better," Ian chided himself once he
could finally recovered enough to get up. His body's ache had turned
to a full on throbbing pain thanks to the assault. Clearly, he wasn't
ready to stand up for himself yet, but every day he got closer and
closer. After that fight, he could already tell that he was a little
stronger and tougher than he had been before taking the serum. Soon,
they wouldn't be able to take him at all.
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"This is a problem," Ian muttered as he looked in the mirror. Since
he'd injected the serum, his hair and nails had been growing alarmingly
quickly, which wasn't so bad other than requiring him to trim his nails
daily. That day, however, it had become a problem.
Right above Ian's scalp, was a solid half inch of hair that was not his
usual dark brown, but instead a pale blue. It matched his new eye
color quite well which had also traded from brown to blue over night.
This was a very serious problem. Blue eyes weren't so bad. It was
easy to overlook and had apparently come with fixed eye sight. Blue
hair, though, wasn't something normal people had. Given that it was
just the roots, he couldn't pretend that he'd dyed it that color
either.
"Maybe I could shave it all off?" Ian considered before quickly
dismissing that idea. If he did that, he was just asking to get
pummeled. "I could trim it real short?" That idea actually had some
merit, but it wouldn't last long with how fast his hair was growing.
People would almost certainly notice him going from half an inch of
hair to two inches of hair in a few days.
Finally, Ian just shook his head. He was looking at this wrong, trying
to find some way to keep things hidden, but that had already been
rapidly becoming impossible. A week and a half on the drug had
evaporated most of the extra weight that had plagued him since he was a
child - except the mounds on his chest. Increasingly baggy and weather
inappropriate clothes had kept this hidden, but it had passed into the
realm of ridiculous a while ago.
As Ian considered his appearance, anxiety built within him.
Intellectually, he'd accepted that he was going to be a woman after
this, but seeing his body change day by day had been disconcerting to
the point that he hardly looked at it. At first, it had just been a
welcome weight loss, and indication of a healthier more athletic
future, but then the girliness had struck. His frame had slimmed, and
as the fat vanished, an increasingly female form had been developing in
the mirror. His face had melted away as well, to a point where people
he knew often didn't recognize him, and strangers guessed that he was a
girl. Even the flabby man boobs, a staple of his life for many years,
had changed, becoming a more palpable presence with a shape and
definition that was far from what he was used to.
Shoving the anxiety back, Ian nodded at his reflection, focusing his
efforts on the future not the past. "It is time to put that behind
person behind me," he told himself, forcing rationality onto his
thoughts. He had progressed far enough that attempting to hide this
was pointless. It was time to tell his mother, and begin establishing
himself into his new life, a female life. Judging by the shrinkage
between his legs, he'd been female soon whether he was ready for it or
not.
Leaving the mirror behind, Ian returned to his room. There, he worked
to build up the courage that he would need for when his mother came
home from work. He had to act just right, appropriately distressed as
if he hadn't known this was going to happen and had been hiding it out
of fear. Once that initial opening burst of emotion had run it's
course, he could let rationality take over, telling his mother his
plans for a doctor visit, the MCO, and finally a new name. He'd
already picked one out.
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"You think you're a what?" Leah Vestri, a short, stout woman, and also
Ian's mother, questioned incredulously.
"A uhm ... a mutant," Ian replied, trying his best to sound uncertain
and uncomfortable with that declaration.
Nodding slowly, Leah just peered at her son for several moments. It
had been hard for her to do anything but stare at him, in fact. Ian
had dressed to emphasize how different he was in a light t-shirt and a
pair of shorts, the least amount of clothing that he'd worn in front of
someone in over a week. In that outfit, he looked more like a mildly
chubby girl than the fat boy he'd been a couple weeks before.
"And the uhm ... y'know?" Leah finally asked, gesturing at her chest to
indicate what aspect of her son's physique was bothering her most.
Ian shrugged with affected helplessness. "I think that may be part of
it. I looked online and apparently it happens sometimes."
For a few more moments, Leah returned to just staring quietly before
she finally spoke again. "Alright ... I guess it can't be helped.
What do we do now? Do I give you like a note for school or something?"
"Well, it is a little more complicated than that," Ian explained,
shifting easily into a more rational attitude. "I will probably need
to see a doctor and get some records changed. There is also this power
test that the MCO requires for ID, and I will need some new clothes."
"That sounds expensive, Ian," Leah mumbled, rubbing at her temple with
the hand that was holding her head.
"Well maybe the doctor visit and the clothes, but the rest should be
relatively cheap," Ian reasoned.
"Fine," Leah sighed wearily. "I'll sign whatever paperwork you need,
but I'm not buying you a whole new wardrobe. Your current clothes seem
to fit fine."
While not exactly what he'd hoped for, Ian nodded in acceptance. He
was used to his mother being tired and cheap, so he hadn't really
expected anything more in his plans. He'd could make do on his own
like he always did.
"Alright. I have all the forms in my room," Ian told her. "I will
just need a ride to a few places."
"My work schedule is on my phone. Make sure to plan around that if you
want a ride, otherwise you'll have to take the bus," Leah replied
disinterestedly, turning away to flip on the TV.
"Sure thing, Mom," Ian responded. He ducked back into his room for a
moment to grab the various papers he would need his mother to sign.
"There is one other thing, though," he mentioned as he returned to the
living room.
Leah looked up from the TV with an annoyed expression on her face.
"What's that?"
"Well, I was thinking that I probably need a new name," Ian informed
her. "How does Iona sound? It is pretty similar to my current name."
Leah shrugged disinterestedly. "Whatever. It's fine with me."
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"I guess this works," Iona mumbled, in a slightly throaty but clearly
female voice, as she checked her reflection in the mirror. Overall,
she thought she looked quite attractive, but the two toned hair,
currently hidden under a beanie, looked weird, and her male clothes
were baggy and unfashionable. There were traces of her former maleness
left as well, a puffy tummy, slightly large hands, and a little
squareness to her jaw, but one would have to be looking for it to
notice. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do for a first outing
as a girl.
The goal of the trip was for Iona to handle all of the things that she
needed to do without her mother. Primarily this meant handling things
related to her appearance. She had some money, but only enough to
handle a haircut and some food for lunch, which meant that she would
have to acquire everything else through some other means - namely
shoplifting.
It wouldn't be Iona's first time having to resort to such methods. Her
mother didn't make much, and most of what she did make she spent on
herself, so her daughter had learned that if she wanted things, she had
to take them. Even the money that she did have wasn't really hers, but
had been pilfered from her mother's tips a few dollars at a time over
the past few months.
Content with her appearance, Iona left the bathroom and her apartment
behind. There were some definite nerves as she stepped out onto the
street for the first time. It was a strange mix of fears. One, that
people would be able to tell that she was really a boy, and the other,
some subconscious male part of her that was angry at the idea of people
seeing her as a girl.
While the first one was clearly just nerves, Iona pushed the latter
aside as much as she could. She'd known going into this that she'd
probably have to give up being a boy. It was a price that she'd been
willing to pay for the promised power of the serum - a promise that it
had certainly been fulfilling given how strong and energetic she now
felt. She was not going to second guess that decision now.
In the middle of a work day, the sidewalks were mostly empty, leaving
Iona nearly alone as she walked to the bus stop near her apartment.
The few people that did pass her, though, definitely looked at her,
adding a little more to her nerves. Nervous or not, though, she forced
herself herself to keep going. She would not let fear of others keep
her down anymore. That was Ian's life, not hers.
After a short stroll, Iona made it to the bus stop which was currently
occupied by a pair of young men that were dressed like thugs. One of
them looked up at her approach, nudging the other with his elbow and
tilting his head toward Iona. The boys shared a few whispers, as Iona
sat on the bench to wait for the bus to arrive.
"Hey there, cutie," one of the boys spoke up once Iona had settled in.
Iona looked up at the teen, smiling nervously. Cutie didn't seem like
a derogatory term, but she was worried that interacting would increase
his chances of noticing something wrong with her. She was not going to
let that deter her, though. An important part of that day's goal was
learning to interact with others as a girl, and she couldn't do that by
avoiding people.
"Hello," Iona forced herself to say, mostly keeping her anxiousness
from her voice.
"You with somebody, babe?" the teen asked, sliding over on the bunch
until he was awkwardly close to Iona.
Iona shook her head. "No. Just on my way to do a little shopping."
"You playin' hooky for a sale or something?" the boy asked.
Scrunching her face up a little, Iona shrugged noncommittally. "Not
exactly. I just needed some new clothes."
"Sounds boring," the teen remarked. "What you should do, instead, is
hang with me and my boy Flip over there. We know how to really have
fun."
"Flip? Is your name Flop then?" Iona joked dryly.
Both boys laughed. "Naw, girl. I'm Turk."
"A pleasure to meet you, Turk, but I will have to pass. I really need
some new clothes," Iona told him.
With their offer shot down, the teens shared a look before Turk spoke
up again. "New clothes you say? What kind of clothes?"
"Every kind," Iona answered. "I do not have a single thing that fits
right anymore."
"Underwear too?" Flip asked, failing to hide his lewd smirk in the
process.
Unabashed, Iona nodded. "That would be one of the kinds I need, yes."
"What if Flip and me tagged along then?" Turk suggested. "It'll liven
things up, and we can give you opinions on stuff to help you pick.
Plus, if we really like what we see, maybe we'll even pay for some of
it."
Unlike the last offer, Iona raised a brow at this one. It was pretty
obvious from the way the conversation had gone that these two boys were
trying to see her in her underwear, or possibly wearing even less than
that. What was more surprising was that they seemed to even be willing
to pay to see it, too. She'd known that she was pretty but she'd never
realized just how much influence being pretty gave her.
"Maybe sounds awfully uncertain," Iona remarked, not wanting to put for
effort with the two boys only to have them bail on the deal later.
"Well you can't expect us to pay for something we've never seen," Turk
noted smartly.
"Hmm," Iona hummed in thought, having to admit that was reasonable.
"So if you saw something now, you would be able to make an informed
decision, right?"
Turk nodded a little too quickly, betraying his enthusiasm. "Of
course."
"I see ..." Iona mumbled before shrugging. After that, she reached
down to grab the bottom of the baggy shirt she wore. A swift tug had
it up to her neck, revealing a pair of large and very bare breasts that
bounced at the sudden motion. The boys had all of a moment to stare at
them, their jaws dropping at the sight, before Iona yanked the shirt
back down again. "How is that? Are you willing to offer something
more certain than a maybe now?"
"Wow ..." Flip breathed, still dazed by what he'd just seen.
Meanwhile, Turk nodded rapidly. "Definitely."
Iona smiled, delighted at how easy it was to manipulate them.
"Excellent, then I would love for you to join me."
***********************************************
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Chapter 03
Iona looked at the door before her in utter amazement. It looked a
little odd, hazy and blurred, like something half seen through mist.
In a way, that was only too apt a description for it as Iona could
slide her hand through the door as easily as if it was indeed made of
mist. She could do far more than that, though, as her testing the last
few hours had shown. While the door would only stay mist while she
touched it, in that state she could make it do many other things. It
was as if the air that composed it was bound to her beck and call. She
could warp it with her mind, open it and close it, anything she really
wished as long as it stayed in contact with her hand. It was
fascinating.
The power didn't just extend to the door, either. Iona could turn any
item that she touched into the same airy pseudo-gaseousness and then
control it. She could even do it to herself, allowing things to pass
through her like smoke, although, apparently she could not do it to
other people. More so, the control effect wasn't limited to only
things that she had changed either. The very air around her seemed to
heed her every whim, swirling and shaping itself as she saw fit, even
letting her see the world around her in a sense that she suspected was
similar to sonar.
The powers by themselves would have been amazing, but probably the most
marvelous thing about them to Iona was that they were just a side
effect. It had just been some random variance in the serum that now
made it possible for her to warp the air around her with a thought. It
could have just as easily been something that reduced her to a pile of
squirming tentacles, which made her feel even more incredibly lucky.
Not that she didn't deserve this. Truly finding that serum had been
destiny.
"Simply marvelous," Iona purred as she toyed with the door, enjoying
the sultry sound of her voice. It had taken three weeks, perfect
average for the serum, but the changes to her body finally seemed to be
complete. Underneath the blubbery whale that she'd once been the serum
had unearthed a truly beautiful, fairy-like creature. She was a little
on the tall side for a girl, with a trim slender frame and delectable
curves. She knew from her few outings that men found her quite
irresistible, with her full bust, perfect butt, creamy skin, and exotic
tousle of pale blue hair.
In many ways, her appearance was a superpower in and of itself, and
Iona was determined to use it to her advantage, regardless of any
misgivings it gave to her former male self. She had blocked the man
that she had once been from her mind, focusing her time on eradicating
every last trace of him from her mannerisms and dress ? and she?d had a
lot of time to do so while staying home waiting for the changes to
finish. It was all just another tool to go with her wind powers,
exemplar strength, and keen intellect. With all of them combined, she
felt unstoppable.
?I wonder what the boys at school will think,? Iona mused, giggling
softly to herself. She knew exactly what they would think. Her being
a mutant would not matter ? for some of the boys they would even
consider it a plus. All that would matter was that she was the hottest
piece of ass they had ever seen. Even when they inevitably found out
that she had once been a boy, she doubted it would change anything.
Only a select few males, like her former self, were anything but
simpletons that were easily controlled by a pretty girl.
The true enigma to Iona was how the girls would react. Girls were an
unknown variable to her, creatures of beauty but also mystery. She?d
never had a female friend or a girlfriend, had not interacted for more
than a few words with any while she was out, nor had any other inlet
into that world. Because of that, she could not fathom what their
reaction might be. The best that she could do was pretend to be one of
them while just waiting to see how they reacted. She had done her
research, spent countless hours practicing and rehearsing, but she knew
that she couldn?t prepare for every unknown. It didn?t worry her much,
though. Whether they accepted her or not was of little consequence in
the end, and she had done it more for her own desire than to appease
anyone else. She was superior to the other girls in every way, and
their denial of that would only prove them petty and unworthy of her
attention. She?d never needed friends before, and she didn?t need them
now.
***********************************************
***********************************************
Nerves and pride competed with each other in an odd way as Iona strode
into the school for the first time as a girl. She was dressed to make
sure that absolutely no one could ignore her. Her slim figure was
wrapped in a scandalously tiny mini-skirt and a belly baring, low-cut,
tank top that showed every tantalizing curve that she possessed. She
could just as easily have passed for a street walker as a student
except for the lack of overdone make up, keeping to something more
tasteful to highlight her natural beauty rather than mask it.
The sudden riveting of every single students? attention as she sashayed
into their view was exhilarating to Iona, an affirmation of the
superiority that she knew she that possessed. Remnant male parts of
her psyche tried to recoil at the idea of the many lewd stares from men
or what they probably were thinking about doing to her, but she would
not let it so much as cause a hitch in her step. She was a goddess
among mortals now, far beyond such petty concerns as embarrassment.
The most their adulation could do was stir her to not outright scorn
them.
As she walked, Iona continually checked her stride, timing herself to
the rhythmic click of her heels on the floor. Many hours of practice
had it down perfect from the flawless measure of her steps to the
delightful sway of her hips and enticing bounce of her breasts. Only
one thing was missing and that was the flirty smile that she pasted
onto her face as she raised a hand to wave at a couple of boys as she
passed. It was hard to keep herself from laughing at the way they
ogled her, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, as she walked by them. They were
even worse than Turk and Flip had been after she?d flashed them.
No one was brave enough to approach the unknown beauty as Iona made her
way to her first class. She took that as a positive thing, reducing
the chance of her making a mistake while she was still getting used to
her environment and also further cementing her faith in herself as
someone above everyone else. She wanted people to realize early that
she was both perfect and unattainable, something to worship from afar
not sully with ill-conceived pick up lines and pathetic overtures of
friendship ? annoying things that she?d had to deal with many times
already in the practice leading up to that day.
As she stepped into her first class, Iona nearly made a mistake when
she saw her first period teacher?s eyes bug out of his head at the
sight of her. For a brief moment, he looked like a cartoon, and a
laugh nearly cracked her cool facade, but she managed to turn it into a
wry smirk before it could escape.
?Hello, Mr. Schroeder,? Iona greeted the man as she approached his
desk. ?I am Iona Vestri. I believe the principal informed you of my
... special circumstances.?
The word ?principal? reminded Mr. Schroeder that he was leering at a
student, an underaged one at that, and that doing so was far from
appropriate. That realization prompted him to clear his throat loudly
as he forced his gaze to look at anything but Iona. ?Ah, yes, he ...
uhm ... did. I just ... expected something a little ... uhm ...
different. I hope that ... uhm ... you?ve been keeping up with the
make up work that I provided your mother.?
?Of course, Mr. Schroeder. School is very important, after all,? Iona
replied sweetly, reaching into her purse and pulling out a couple of
sheets of carefully folded paper to hand to him. ?Here are the
homework assignments, and I am ready to take the test that I missed
whenever you are ready.?
Mr. Schroeder seemed genuinely surprised that a student had actually
done make up work while they were out of school. He took the pages
limply, leafing through them to look at the neatly done assignments.
?Wow. I?ll get these graded for you today, and we can do the make up
test during class if you don?t mind the distraction.?
?I do not mind at all, Mr. Schroeder. Just let me get to my desk, and
I will be ready to start,? Iona replied, turning to walk to her desk.
As she did, she put in a little extra sway in her step just to make
sure that the teacher would ignore propriety and stare anyway.
When she made it to her desk, Iona turned, sliding gracefully into the
seat and crossed her legs. Mr. Schroeder hadn?t even stood up from his
desk yet, exactly as she hoped. She sat there watching him, leaning
forward just a bit to rest her chin in one delicate hand with a smile
on her face. The pose would only make it harder for him to stop
looking, and consequently make it take all the longer for him to be
able to stand up without embarrassment. Exerting that much control
over someone with just a few polite words and a few careful poses was
utterly thrilling to her.
***********************************************
***********************************************
Iona walked very slowly as she left the school, elated by the day that
she?d had. As predicted, even learning that she?d once been a boy,
something that was hard to keep secret with the same last name and
seats in classes, the interest of the boys at school had not waned in
the slightest. All that had changed were a few faint whispers of
complete disbelief that she had overheard, once her classmates had
figured it out.
The unknown variable, the girls at school, had turned out along
appreciable lines as well. Many of the them had been obviously and
painfully jealous of her, attempting weak taunts that didn?t even
warrant rebuttal. Another large section however, had seemed equal
parts awed and sympathetic. They, like the boys, could not believe
that someone that looked like her could have once been male, and had
seemed to quite interested in how such a thing could come to pass as
well as how much she?d really changed. She?d handled such inquiries
with polite brevity, but that was the extent of the associations.
Now, Iona made her way back to her apartment, moving slowly to try to
test a third group, one that she was pretty sure that she had a correct
read on as well. The city was a fairly accepting area in terms of
mutant relations, but there was still a small group at school that
despised them as abominations and thus despised her as well. They were
misguided children, of course, but Iona wanted to give them their
chance to act, mostly just to see if they were foolish enough to
actually do so. She had nothing to fear. In fact, she was eager to
show them just how pitiful they really were when compared to her.
Much to Iona?s delight, the haters arrived not long after she had left
the school. They?d picked one of their usual spots to ambush her, a
mostly unused side street that she cut down to make the trip home
shorter. It was narrow and out of sight of almost anyone ? an
excellent place to trap a victim.
?Well if it isn?t the nerd boy turned mutant bitch,? Dramond sneered,
apparently taking the lead for this group. Iona was hardly surprised
that he hated mutants ? just another excuse to pick on people for a
brute like him.
?You will have to excuse me, peasant. I do not have time to waste on
you today,? Iona replied haughtily, offering a dismissive wave as well.
Maybe the verbiage was a bit excessive, but she had waited a long time
to put these fools in their place.
Dramond?s compatriots made their appearance then, some from behind him,
and others from the way Iona that had came. All told, they?d brought a
good half dozen guys to handle one, lone girl. They should have
brought far more.
?I warned you about talking back to me, pig,? Dramond retorted,
flipping out his switchblade.
Iona burst into a harsh, mocking chortle at the sight of the little
knife that brought a confused look to the boy?s face. ?Is this all you
have? A pitiful little knife and a handful of thugs? You thought that
would be enough to frighten me, now? I must apologize for calling you
a peasant. It is a disgrace to those that truly bear that title. You
are nothing more than an ant, too foolish to realize you are about to
be squashed.? As she spoke, bluish mist swirled around Iona?s hand,
forming into a vaguely stick-like shape about three feet long. ?Well
then. Come at me, vermin.?
The taunts were more than enough motivation for Dramond as he lumbered
forward with an enraged look on his face. The other thugs were more
cautious, frightened by the display of mutant power and the supreme
confidence that Iona exuded. It did not matter to Iona what they did,
though. She just stood there impassively, waiting for her enemies to
come to her.
Dramond?s charge continued without interference until just at the point
that he thrust forward with his knife, attempting to gut Iona as
promised. Iona?s left hand cut across in front of her, a great wind
following behind it. The gust knocked Dramond?s knife hand to the side
as Iona?s right hand thrust forward behind it. The mist in her grasp
proved far more solid than it appeared, slicing through clothes and
flesh as easily as if it were a steel blade. Dramond lurched to a stop
in surprise, clutching at where the mist blade pierced his stomach.
?Whoops,? Iona taunted, a malicious grin on her face. The mist blade
dispersed in an instant, and Dramond slumped to the ground, clutching
at his wound.
?You fucking ho!? a male voice shouted as one of the thugs, the only
one not standing there with a stunned look on their face, lunged at
Iona for a tackle.
Iona spun, easily stopping the teen?s full weight with a single hand
and only a mild jolt to her frame. Her eyes twinkled evilly as once
more she forced the air to bend to her will. She couldn?t turn other
people into air, but she?d devised an equally brutal trick to use on
them.
All thoughts of assault vanished as the man?s hands flew up to his
throat. He appeared to be trying to gasp for air, but there was no
noise, not even gasps or screams. All he could do was claws at his
throat in confusion.
?Do you feel that?? Iona asked rhetorically, mocking the man as he
struggled. ?That is the air around you refusing to enter your lungs
because I told it not to. If I so choose, you will never draw another
breath, and there is nothing you can do about it. If you do not wish
that to happen, beg for your life ... on your knees.? She pointed
toward the ground with her free hand in emphasis.
The terrified boy fell to his knees in an instant, prostrating himself
before Iona. The girl?s grin only grew broader at that, as she let air
return to the beggar?s lungs. After all, a queen should be merciful to
her subjects when they beg forgiveness.
A slight tremble in the air around her was all the warning Iona had
that one of the boys had drawn a gun, but it was all that she needed.
She made sure to keep any reaction from her face as he fired while she
activated another ability. The bullet passed harmlessly through her,
as effective at damaging her as it was at damaging the sky. There was
the loud crack of the gun followed by the ping of the bullet
ricocheting down the street. Iona just slowly turned to face the thug
with the gun, the grin never wavering on her face.
?Would you like another shot?? Iona inquired, completely unfazed.
That was all it took to get the remaining fools to flee back from
whence they came, gibbering like scared little children. Their fear
was perfect, the reward for all of Iona?s risks and planning. This was
the moment that she had craved, the moment where they all finally
realized what had always been true, that she was better than all of
them. Iona just stood in the moment, relishing every last bit of it
before finally glancing down at the ground. Her penitent had fled with
the others, but Dramond was still there, laying on the ground,
clutching at his bleeding belly and whimpering in pain.
?As much as I treasure seeing you squirm on the ground before me like a
worm, I should call some aid for you. We would not want the police
trying to claim that I let you die intentionally, even if it is what
you deserve,? Iona told him as she reached into her purse for her
phone. ?Hello, I need an ambulance and the police. A fellow student
assaulted me with a knife and I had to use force to defend myself.?
***********************************************
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It had taken several hours, and multiple stern lectures from officers
and lawyers alike, but Iona had finally been released from police
custody and returned home. She had been thoroughly warned about using
her powers, about using lethal force, about the risks of criminal
charges and civil liability, and numerous other things. Through it
all, Iona had been impassive, unwilling to admit to any form of
wrongdoing. All she would do was tell them to check the security
footage from a store on the main street that she?d had the owner point
toward the side street the day before. It would clearly show her alone
and assaulted by multiple people bearing lethal weapons. It was her
right to protect herself by responding in kind. Besides, the idiot,
Dramond, hadn?t even died from his wound.
Of course, one thing Iona hadn?t discussed with the police, and
wouldn?t with anyone else either was just how much fun it had been. In
many ways, the day that was just about to end, had been the first day
of her life. She had felt so alive, so in control, so powerful ? like
she had always known that she should be. It had been truly wonderful.
?Truly wonderful,? Iona breathed those words as she lay on her bed
staring up at the ceiling. There was but one problem with such a day.
She had no idea how to make the next day match it. The school was
hers. There were no bullies that could threaten her, and no girls that
could rival her. While it would take some time for everyone to fully
bend to her whims, her rule there was undisputed, and that made it
dull. One could not find excitement in an unchallenging routine, and
that was indeed what the idea of school seemed to be to her. Maybe she
could eek out a few more interesting moments, teasing some foolish boys
into a fight or getting a teacher in trouble for their inappropriate
leers, but she saw no point in such trivial things. The thrill of
exerting her power would be sweet, but it would be very brief, whereas
their adulation was lasting, if not quite as delicious. She needed to
aim higher.
Rising from her bed, Iona slid into her computer chair, pulling up a
map of the area on the screen. A queen ruled a kingdom, and so far her
kingdom was not very impressive. She might rule the school, but only
in regards to the actual school day, and not in terms of any of the
many other transactions that went on there. Then, of course, there was
also the path that she walked to get home and her room in the
apartment. That was the extent of her realm. The serum had given her
power, so it was time to exert that power. She had used it, so that
she could change her life, but so far all she had done with it was
change her situation at school. The rest of her life was still the
same dreary mess. That would have to change.
As a plan started to take shape, Iona opened up some documents to
outline her ideas. If she wanted to be a queen, then she needed
subjects to rule. More than just that, she had to expand her domain.
Gangs claimed territory in cities, so she knew she could so as well.
It might pit her against other mutants or criminals, but she was
confident that she had the power to lay them low. The first step would
be to secure her current holdings, the school, the apartment building,
and the path between, which would mean chasing out all the other
parties that wrongly felt that they had claims to those areas. Like a
true monarch, she would put this area under her protection, and her
subjects would tithe to show their fealty. She?d need an alter ego to
deal with people in order to keep her identity relatively safe. She?d
need to talk with the business owners along the path to her house to
explain her offer of removing the criminal elements for a price ? true
protection not some extortion ring. She?d need to learn what gangs
operated at the school and demand a portion of their proceeds for
dealings in her territory. The last place would be the easiest, just a
matter of clearing out a few unwelcome vermin that were holed up in her
building.
Such strategizing was exactly what Iona needed. It focused her mind,
and excited her senses, in a way that mundane school life never would
be able to. Each new struggle would bring more of that euphoria of
domination. The more her enemies tried to defy her, the sweeter the
victory would taste. It was only a couple of buildings and a few
random blocks, but it would be hers.
***********************************************
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Chapter 04
?Dayum,? one of the criminals exclaimed, drawing out the word at the
sight of Iona?s approach.
That remark was certainly well deserved as, for this meeting, Iona wore
only a powder blue vest for a top, unzipped enough so that the entire
space between her breasts was visible, and a black, flowing, wrap skirt
with an angled hem that showed plenty of leg. Like all of her dealings
regarding her new realm, she had hidden her hair and eyes under a black
wig and brown contacts, not wanting to be instantly recognizable on
camera given the less than legal nature of many of her activities.
Sashaying forward, Iona gave the man a flirty little smile, exuding
confidence with every step that she took. This was her first
interaction with a local gang, one of the ones that did not have
mutants in it. It consisted of a handful of kids of various race, aged
from fourteen to twenty-four. Each carried a handgun among other
things, and they mostly dealt in muggings and burglary. Unfortunately
for them, they had dared to mug people in her domain, so they had to be
dealt with.
One of the boys, the oldest of the group, pushed himself off the wall
that he was leaning against to stand before Iona. He had several
inches of height on her, making her look up a bit even in heels, but it
was far from intimidating to her. He clearly thought that it would be,
though, swaggering with obvious confidence as he tossed out a taunting,
?What are you supposed to be, some kind of groupie??
The disrespect was almost enough to convince Iona to discard diplomacy
before even trying it, but she reined herself in. If she was going to
deal with uncouth criminals, then she had to expect these sorts of
things to happen. ?No, my name is Mistral and I am very unhappy that
you are doing harm to those in my domain.?
?Your domain?? the man scoffed at the claim. ?Girl, why don?t you go
home to your mommy before I make you part of my domain.?
?I have claimed everything between the high school, and Packard
Apartments,? Iona explained, ignoring the lewd threat. ?After speaking
to my informants, I have determined that you have victimized no fewer
than three people under my care. I am here to give you a formal
warning to desist in your activities or I will use other methods to
ensure that you stop.?
The man snorted in amusement. ?You?ve gotta be jokin?. I don?t care
where you troll for johns, ho. Now, get lost!?
The man?s insolence elicited a heavy sigh from Iona as she started to
bend the air around her to her will. ?Then it seems I will have to use
other methods.?
Suddenly, breath fled from the man?s lungs. At first he was merely
confused, but as he found himself unable to inflate his lungs once
more, panic started to set in. Soundlessly, he tried to cough and
clutch at his throat, anything to get air to flow. All the while Iona
merely watched. The only change in her pleasant features was a
sinister twinkle in her eyes that showed just how much she was enjoying
his flailing.
The other thugs only watched, too confused and shocked by the strange
event they were witnessing to know how to react until their leader had
already slumped weakly to his knees from oxygen deprivation. That
broke them from their stupor, drawing out their handguns to shoot the
mysterious woman. Shot after shot passed harmlessly through Iona,
doing no more than briefly distorting her airy image before she flowed
back together.
Not knowing what to do, the criminals ceased their fire, unable to do
anything but watch as their leader?s body went limp. Iona returned the
air to the man before she looked up at the others that stared at her.
?Now, I have decided to give him, and all of you, a second chance to
comply to my completely reasonable request. I hope that your answer
will be different this time.?
?No targets between the school and Packard. We got it,? one of them
spoke up. ?Won?t happen again.?
?Good,? Iona replied, turning to stride confidently away. ?It has been
a pleasure doing business with you.?
***********************************************
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?This is a problem,? Iona noted calmly as she stared at the pile of
money that sat on her desk. Her kingdom had been progressing well with
cuts of the business from dealers that wanted to operate in the school,
protection money for chasing out the muggers, vandals, homeless, and
thieves from local business areas, and some funds ?liberated? from
intractable gangs that had refused to learn their lesson all flowing to
her. Now, Iona had the issue that she was generating all this revenue
but had no way to use it properly. She certainly couldn?t report it to
the IRS given that she had no legal way to make this kind of money.
That meant that she had to keep it as cash, but as cash, it could do
little to improve her situation in any appreciable ways. Most of
things that she wanted she either stole or guys bought for her, so the
most that she?d been able to do with it was buy a new computer which
hadn?t even dented the pile.
?I need some way to clean it,? Iona told herself, hoping that the media
had not lied to her about that being a real thing. To do that, though,
she needed some legal business that she could report the money as being
a profit from, but she had no way to own a business as herself, and
there was no way that she was bringing her mother into her crime ring.
Sighing, Iona slumped into her seat. She refused to accept that this
was a problem that she couldn?t solve. There were criminals out there
that made it work, and she was smarter than they were. At the same
time, a weak part of her told her, this would be a lot easier if she
just allied herself with one of the stronger crime organizations. They
could take care of details like this that were beneath her attention.
?No,? Iona growled, forcing herself to sit up straight again. True
queens didn?t slouch, nor did they let others rule their kingdoms for
them. She was not so weak. She would build her own organization, one
to rival any of the others.
Turning to her computer, Iona opened up the many documents that handled
all the numbers of her finances. The key wa