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Subject: {ASSM} The Law (RP) (MMMM/ffff tort, rape, ws)
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This is a work of fiction.  If you are under whatever arbitrary age
your elected officials have decided to choose for viewing adult
material, understand that you will be breaking the law if you read
this.  If you get caught,  I don't want to get blamed because your
parents can't keep track of you.

Please don't try this stuff at home (or anywhere else, for that
matter).  Some of it could be very dangerous.  If you have a hard time
telling fantasy from reality, please don't read any of my writings and
go seek medical help.

If you are a religious fanatic of any flavor and you hate my stuff,
please note that you shouldn't be in this group to begin with - no one
forced
you here.  If you are offended by sexual liturature (such as it is)
then go visit somewhere else.

This story may not be posted on any pay site.  It may not be archived
without permission from the author and if it's reposted, this
disclaimer must remain with it.  Copyright c 2003 Dark Pen.

~Dark Pen~
www.asstr.org/~DarkPen
Live Journal for Comments:
http://www.livejournal.com/~darkpen/

Want to Buy a Dark Pen Book?  Office Games is for SALE!
http://www.bdsmbooks.com/librarygeneral/general.htm#S0563
(Scroll Down Page!)

I originally posted this story back in 2003, but considering the very
frightening events happening in the United States, I thought it was
worth a repost.  If you think that this story could not become a
reality, I'd like to point you to who is currently sitting on the
Supreme Court, who could still make more appointments should someone
die, and an abortion law that was just passed in South Dakota.  If you
don't think the way we are moving in the US is a bad thing, I invite
you to visit Iran.  You'll fit right in.

The Law

Chapter 1

The thundering sound of the gavel sealed the fate of millions as it
echoed through the court. There was a great deal of protest and a loud
outcry, but the Christian right had won the greatest victory of the war
on those who opposed them. Abortion, in any form, was declared murder
and outlawed in the US. The year was 2006.

Many cried out that the separation of Church and State had been
shattered, that Religion had triumphed over Reason. This did no good at
all, and somehow, with the declaration that abortion was murder, those
protestors were thrown in jail for advocating murder. This had quite a
chilling effect on people wishing to carry on the battle.

Jon and his new wife Tina were upset. They didn't advocate abortion,
but the thought that women's rights were being legislated out of
existence made them very unhappy. Still, it seemed, they were largely
unaffected by the decision, and neither had the desire to cross the
law.

Tina and Jon were a picture perfect couple. He was tall and blond, very
well built and was quite successful in business. He had the means to
support a family on just his income, something that was rare in these
days of low wages, artificially bloated heath care costs and sky high
taxes.

Tina was the perfect wife for Jon. She was tall and also blond,
beautifully built, sparkling blue eyes and a wonderful, infectious
laugh. She was also very intelligent and together they pulled in a
healthy income.

Jon had always wanted a family and he loved Tina more than anything in
the world. He could think of nothing in life better than raising a
small family with her. The thought of a daughter, a miniature Tina
running around the house with them made him grin every time. Tina was
younger then he, now twenty seven to his thirty three.

They'd been married for four years. In the first year of their
marriage, Roe vs. Wade had been overturned by the courts. Over the next
few years, birth control started to become harder and harder to find.
Somehow pills and condoms were becoming more expensive, and birth
control pills weren't even covered by health insurance anymore. More of
the not so subtle influence from the Right. Jon and Tina had decided to
wait a few years before starting their family, and since birth control
was getting so hard to find, and Jon was now thirty three, they decided
that it was time to start their family.

Jon couldn't have been happier when Tina announced she was pregnant.
They were lucky - they could afford good healthcare, thanks to well
paying jobs, and Jon made sure that Tina got the best. In due course,
they discovered that they'd made a little girl and they went about
creating the perfect room in their house to receive their new child.

Jon remembered the day his life changed with brutal clarity. He got the
call at work, at 8:47 am. As always seemed to happen to him in a
crises, emotion dropped away, allowing for clear thought and decisive
action.

He arrived at the hospital and started to head for Tina's room only to
be waylaid by the doctor.

"Mr. Wright?" said the man, approaching Jon.

"Yes. Are you the surgeon who operated on my wife and daughter?"

The doctor hesitated. Jon was a big man who looked anything but
peaceful.

"Perhaps," he said trying to steer Jon to a seat, "we should talk for a
moment."

Jon hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding, then sat with the
doctor.

"Mr. Wright, I want to start by saying that I'm sorry. There is nothing
that I can do for your wife."

Jon was expecting the man to say this. If Tina and his daughter were
alright, then he'd be in with them now.

He swallowed. "Are they... still alive?"

The doctor closed his eyes. This was going to be very hard.

"Yes, but I'm afraid not for very long. Your wife will live for perhaps
a few hours."

"And my daughter?"

"Again, I'm sorry." The doctor's lips thinned in anger. "I wish there
was something I could do. Your wife hasn't and won't regain
consciousness."

"Can the baby be saved?"

The doctor looked even more upset. "Mr. Wright, this is complex. It's
actually because of the baby that your wife is dying. "

"What!?"

The doctor explained, but John only understood that somehow, the
accident had caused damage to his wife that they couldn't repair
without aborting the fetus - which was too young to survive on it's
own. Not only that, but the fetus was dying as well, albeit more slowly
than the mother. He put his head in his hands, pain wracking his mind.
But there was no choice.

In a harsh whisper he said, "Then you'll have to abort."

The doctor turned gray and said, in a soft voice, "I can't."

"What do you mean you can't? You just told me you could save Tina that
way!"

"I'm not allowed to abort the fetus. It's against the law. We don't
even have some of the equipment we'd need anyway - it's been banned."

Jon had followed the politics of abortion. Like many Americans he'd
thought that the ban on abortion was bad. But he'd swallowed it because
of the caveat in the law that said that abortion could still be used if
it would save the life of the mother. Jon mentioned this to the doctor.

"That portion of the law was struck down two years ago. It was done
very quietly. People tried to raise a fuss, but they were jailed. My
wife was jailed for protesting it and, in fact, I lost my practice and
had to come work here, in the city, where they were desperate for good
surgeons."

"But... that's preposterous! How could they do that?"

There was nothing the doctor could say. Silently, he stood and led Jon
to the room where his wife and daughter lay dying.

She lay quiet, and as beautiful as ever. It was hopeless, he knew. The
doctors knew what they were talking about. At one point someone walked
into the room as he sat there with her hand in his.

"Are you alright my son?"

It was a priest. Jon looked up with a blank stare on his face.

"No, I'm not alright. My wife is dying and they won't operate."

"What do you mean? Surely they will do everything they can!"

"No, they won't. They can't because they'd have to abort the fetus."

The priest, still with a serene look on his face said, "Ah, I see. Then
you must accept that it is God's will that they are being called home."

A wash of cold rage flushed Jon's body turning his blood to ice water.
Something must have shown in his face because the priest took a step
back.

"Is that supposed to be a comfort?" He asked in a low, almost calm
voice.

"Sometimes, the Lord's ways are..."

"Get out. Now. Unless you'd like to be there when my wife reaches this
heaven you're so fond of."

The priest left quickly.

Jon got his cell phone out and made a call. Never did his hand leave
his wife's.

Hours later, having done all he could, Jon wept, his head on Tina's
chest and one hand on her belly, tears soaking the sheets. Her
breathing changed and his head shot up, looking at her face.

Her eyes were open and she recognized him.

"Jon, my love," the words were almost too soft to hear.

"I'm here, Tina, I'm here."

"It's bad, isn't it?" Her eyes closed.

"No, love. You'll be fine, and the baby too."

She smiled. "Good. Soon..." Her faint whisper faded.

Then alarms began to ring, but only the surgeon he'd spoken to earlier
came in. He shut them off and walked out, saying nothing.

Jon was numb. He knew that later, he'd feel the pain, but not now. He
stood to walk out to make what ever arrangements he would need for his
wife.

"... Quit! You hear? I'm outta here! You people can go FUCK
yourselves."

"Now Robert, these things happen..."

"Shut UP asshole. I'm tired of it, all of it." The voice lowered, angry
and menacing. "You'd better hope your wife or daughter never find's
herself in God's hands."

"That's blasphemy," came a third voice.

"And you, the very sight of people like you make me sick. Now get out
of my way."

Jon walked around the corner to find the surgeon who'd spoken to him
walking down the hall, his clip board and coat tossed on the floor. The
priest was there with another man, who was in a suit. The priest saw
Jon coming and decided that there were other people who needed his
counsel. The man in the suit stood there, nervously wringing his
hands."

"Mr. Wright. I'm sorry for your loss."

Utterly without emotion, Jon turned his eyes on the man. "Who are you."

"I'm the director of the hospital."

"And why are you here now?"

"Dr. Jameson called me down to consult. I like to be available to my
doctors."

"Consult on what?"

The man looked nervous. "Perhaps, considering your loss, this is a bad
time to speak of it."

"I see." Jon could make a good guess at why Dr. Jameson had called this
man. He let it be. Now was not the time.

Several days later, Jon stood at the grave of his wife and daughter. He
had cried all the tears he was going to in the hospital. The coldness
had not left, but the pain was seeping through. He looked up as a man
approached.

"Jon," he said, offering his hand. "I'm sorry that I missed the
funeral. But I wanted to wait for the results."

Jon looked at him.

"It worked. At least as far as we can determine."

"Good," said Jon. The other man thought he detected a slight break in
Jon's voice. "I'll let you know where to send them."

The man nodded and walked away. Jon waited a year before setting his
final plans in motion. During that time there was a great deal of
preperation to do. He started by slowly sending much of his money out
of the country. He was surprised at how difficult it was to do,
congress had pass so many laws about transferring money from the
country. But where there was a will, there was a way.

He found he had a lot of money at his disposal. He'd sold everything
that he and Tina had owned and rented a small apartment. They'd already
had a good amount of cash saved up. Her insurance money, plus the
settlement money from the drunk who'd caused the accident added up to a
tidy sum. Even after taxes and lawyer fees, he was worth over fifteen
million dollars.

It was difficult to develop the correct contacts he needed and it cost
a fair amount of money. But, in the end, it was worth it and he hired
exactly the people he needed.

In the room stood five men. Jon and four very large black men. All of
them were clean, well spoken and looked very civilized. Jon had
searched hard for these men. They were not what they seemed. Well, they
were clean and well spoken, but they were not civilized at all. At this
point, thought Jon, he wouldn't consider himself to be very civilized
either.

"This place has everything you need. Once phase one is complete, you
may not leave until the job's done. Each of you will have the money
deposited in your accounts the day that you walk in here. There will be
a computer in here with a connection that will allow you to verify it."

He had set down very strict rules. But he knew that these men would
follow them. In their own way, they were professionals. Plus, they
enjoyed their work. He had no way and no interest in physically holding
the men here. Jon could handle himself in a fight, but any one of the
four men would most likely be able to best him. All four together
wouldn't even be a contest.

"When will you begin?"

"Well," said one of the men, "I think that we can have phase one
wrapped up by tomorrow night. After that, it all depends."

"That soon, eh? Good. Call me when it's complete."

"You're the boss."

Jon left and went home. He reflected on the changes that had occurred
in society since Tina's death. He supposed that many of them had been
going on before, but now his sensitivity to such things had increased.

Since 2006, society had gotten much stricter than ever before. Privacy
was very hard to come by - everything had tracer tags, RFIDs or other
tracking technology in them. Computers, ISPs, even music CD's, all sent
signals to central databases to help monitor for 'Terrorist'
activities. They were even talking about chip implants for the general
population. For health reasons, of course, since the national ID card
had proved worthless.

The war overseas in 2003 had given the government the excuse for the
foundations of these changes. The American Sheeple had, after the
discovery of just how much biological agent Iraq had, and just how
close they'd been to creating nuclear weapons, begged Congress to
protect them.

Gay rights were gone, and many people who were out about any kind of
alternate sexuality had been driven underground. Only the big three
religions were tolerated and it was worth your job to admit to being
Gay or a Pagan. Alternate sexual expression was punishable by prison
terms.

One might wonder how all this came to pass in such a short time, until
one realized that the laws had been in place for a while. But the
Supreme court had declared them unconstitutional. That changed with the
makeup of the court in 2004. And still the Americans did nothing. Jon
snorted in contempt.

He was going to do something. And even if it never affected the nation
as a whole to wake people up, at least, given how sensational the media
was, it would get attention. Maybe that would make people think. But he
doubted it.

The following evening, he got a call on his cell phone. Nothing was
said, but the caller ID (now required along with a GPS chip in all
communication devices) told him all he needed to know. There was no GPS
chip in his phone, or in his car. Such things were easy to get around
if one had contacts and money AND no one was suspicious of you. There
were always people in the underground who knew more than the people who
promoted certain technologies. He got up and left his house.

The maps he'd obtained from several privacy advocate sites showed a
rout that would get him where he wanted to go with a minimum number of
camera entries, and he was careful to obey all the road regulations so
the ticket cams would have no reason to note his passage. It was
important that he be there at the very start of Phase 2.

Jon pulled into the warehouse at the docks. Considering the amount of
illegal activity that went on down here, there was always a ton of
traffic coming and going. Somehow, many of the cameras in strategic
places seemed to be out of order. Money was tight and a little grease
went a long way to see that the cameras stayed out of commission. Not
that he was involved in that - that took a higher level of connection
then he had or wanted to have. But that didn't mean the he couldn't
take advantage of it.

When he arrived, the four men greeted him. They were happy the first
part of the job had gone so smoothly.

"These people think all that technology makes them safe," said Ben with
a sneer. Jon nodded in agreement. The real criminals had little to
worry about. Only citizens who strayed slightly from the approved path
were caught and tried.

"Good."

"I've already recorded the news and put it into the recorder," said Ed.

"Thanks," said Jon while taking the remote from the big man's hand.

Jon walked into the room where the captives were held and looked them
over. Each had a tight fitting hood of dark cloth over their face. Each
was on their knees and bound thighs to ankles with their hands bound
behind them. The wide cuffs on their wrists were attached to the ankle
bindings. They'd been warned to keep quiet, for no real reason, but he
could hear low sobs coming from two of them.

He sat down in a chair facing his captives and looked them over. He
already knew what each looked like, of course, from his extensive study
of them. But seeing them in the flesh, so to speak, was different. He
knew he should be feeling some fear - kidnapping was a major crime,
after all, but all he felt was satisfaction that he could start his
task. One of the other men, Ray, walked in. He was wearing a mask, a
tight pair of leather pants and boots. His well muscled upper torso
gleamed darkly in the lights. Jon nodded toward the women.

Ray walked behind them, untied the hoods, then pulled them off two at a
time. All of the faces were red from heat and two were wet with tears.
No doubt there would have been a chorus of protests but for the fact
that all were gagged. Jon nodded again and the man removed the gag from
one of the women. Kathy, Jon knew, was her name.

She tried to speak and ended up coughing for a moment. She licked her
lips and finally was able to speak. Her voice was somewhat horse, but
quite recognizable from the many TV programs he'd seen her on.

"What is going on? Are you crazy? Do you know who I am?"

Jon just sat there, looking at her. She and her husband were the
mouthpieces for the Antiabortion movement. They had led the charge,
destroying anyone that got in their way. Oh yes. He knew who she was.

"SAY something! And let us go! Who do you think you are?"

Jon just looked at her.

"What are you DEAF? Stupid? People are going to be looking for us."

In response, Jon pointed a remote toward the TV mounted above and
behind him. A recorded news cast played and the women looked on in
horror as their own deaths were reported along with pictures of the
burned out shell of their car. Two broke down and started crying again,
the other looked down at the floor. Kathy simply stared in shock.

"You're mad! You won't get away with this!"

"I've already gotten away with it," said Jon as he turned off the TV.
"It was a stroke of luck that you were all in the same car. Sometimes,
fate works in our favor."

It wasn't as much luck as it seemed. Their schedule was pretty public
and they had been on their way from a victory rally where someone was
proposing legislation to make any sex between people of the same sex,
illegeal. That included images of said activities. They'd been forced
off the road in one area where the GPS and RFIDs could easily be jammed
and pulled from the car. Bodies from a morge had replaced them and the
car had then been blow up. The dental records of the live women were
replaced by the ones that matched the bodies in the medical databases.
That part had been simple since no one kept hard copies of the data
anymore.

"What... what do you want?"

"You will all be staying here for a while. You will obey the men who
are in charge here." He snickered. "You're good Christian women, you
should have no problem with that."

"I don't understand."

"You're here because I want you here. If you do everything that you're
told, if you learn skills that you are no doubt completely ignorant of,
then eventually you'll be released. If not..." Jon shrugged. Of course,
they thought that he meant he would kill them. Jon was no murderer. He
would have his revenge with or without their cooperation. But perhaps
they would be more likely to do what they were told if they thought
their lives were on the line.

End Chapter 1

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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