Message-ID: <40564asstr$1043295003@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Dark Pen" <darkpen@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Law 1 (BDSM WS Tort I/R Preg)
Date: Wed, 22 Jan 2003 23:10:03 -0500
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This story is fiction. However, the laws mentioned in it might not be some 
day.  It contains erotica, but I did not find writing it to be erotic - 
unlike the other things I've written.  This is part 1.

	For obvious reasons, I wanted this to go out now.  The story will not be 
long, but it will be disturbing.  Even this much was disturbing for me to 
write.
	It's a predictable story.  It's cliché and obvious, something I try to 
avoid in my writing.  Many of you will not read beyond what I've written 
here.  But I'm angry and this is a good way, I think, to get that anger out.

  Normally I say enjoy.  Instead, I say, think.

Dark Pen

The Law

	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.


~Pen~
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/DarkPen/www
"But if I go cold/ I won't get sold/ I'll get
put in the back /On the discount rack/
Like another can of beans..."  B. Joel


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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
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