This is the last chapter I actually began writing during JulNoWriMo and AugNoWriMo. Everything that comes after this will be new — except, of course, unless I take it out of the Project Notebooks from the last decade and a half. (The beauty pageant scene is excerpted from a longer script in the Notebooks; the love scene and the morning after reappear here nearly intact.) And this is the first scheduled to be published during December 2010 — that is, during NaNoFiMo, when of course I’ll
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Chaos Angel Spanner — Book 1: Rock City Blues
Chapter 9: Checkered Pasts
Chapter 9: Checkered Pasts
It may be that your whole purpose in life
is simply to serve as a warning to others...
is simply to serve as a warning to others...
22 September 2014
daybreak. It is a dark and stormy night. Leila struggles against the strong wind. She feels that she has always been struggling against the wind. Suddenly she realizes that there's a monster following her. Right now he is the size of a man. But he is growing. When she sees him, she realizes with a shock that she is dreaming.
Wherever she goes, the monster finds her. And it grows even bigger. She hides inside a building. The monster grows yet bigger still; he tears the building off its foundation and throws it away. He reaches down and grabs her in his hand. She struggles in the hand of a giant. And the monster becomes a man, a huge man in dark glasses, and — Shira suddenly appears in Leila’s dream —
“Leila, watch out! He’s Traced you!”
Shira steals the dark glasses from Henry Becket’s face and throws them behind her. His ice blue eyes go wide. She lights up brighter than a thousand suns. He screams in pain like a demon-tortured sinner at the sight of the light. Leila activates her Shield and Repulses him into the next dimension —
— and they wake up together, locked into a tight embrace. The bright morning sun smiles upon them through the window blinds. Leila’s eyes are wide in shock. Shira stares deep into them. They remain motionless, staring at each other, wrapped in each other’s arms, for what seems an eternity.
Leila’s body begins to tremble. Her face takes on an expression of sweet agony. Then she closes her eyes, pulls Shira close, holds her as tight as she can, and kisses her more passionately than she has ever kissed anyone in her young life.
morning. Leila drifts through the school day in a dreamy reverie. She cannot even force herself concentrate on classes that not only are boring but get all their subjects wrong. All she can think about is Shira.
Polly looks at her, amazed; she waves her hand in front of her; she tries to distract her with friendly conversation. Then she turns to her friends and says, “I think she’s in love.”
Leila follows Shira around wherever she goes (“like a puppy,” as the girls put it). Somehow they make time and find secret places for making out. Their erotic chemistry is so explosive that no one in the school can ignore it.
Dexter looks crestfallen; at last, he realizes, he has lost Shira to someone else. He knows it was bound to happen someday, since he wants to settle down and she doesn’t. But it still hurts.
Brandi finds herself feeling jealous. She didn’t realize she wanted Shira so much. But still she is shocked by the intensity between her and Leila. However, she can’t help but feel a little lost without the possibility that Shira would turn her attentions to her.
Charmian continues to look down on both Shira and Leila. But Kelly can’t help but notice how they act around each other now. They no longer seem like mere friends. It takes her a while to realize what is going on between them, but finally the realization hits her like a hammer:
“I think she’s in love — with Shira!”
She summons up a small troop of her yes girls to confront her in the hope of forcing her to repent of her ways. Before lunch, they find her and put themselves in her way.
“Stop right there!” commands Kelly.
Leila glares back. “What do you want, McLendon?”
“We’ve been hearing some really disturbing things about you today.”
“Why does my choice have anything to do with you?” snaps Leila.
“You’re making Jesus cry! Can’t you feel his tears?”
Leila shudders with an angry sigh.
“Well, the Lord commanded that True Love can only be between a man and a woman, and nothing should get in the way of that!”
“If you remember,” replies Leila contemptuously, “the Lord also said he created black people as slaves for white people.”
“Well, even if you were right with Jesus, like you should be, there’s still that... that... that creature! She’s in love with you! Right?!
Now Shira appears and comes toward Leila. “Yes, I am in love with her.”
Kelly points at Shira angrily. “I knew it! I knew you were trouble from the beginning!”
“But I’m totally open about my love for Leila, Kelly. And I’m going to remain so as long as I know your deep dark secret, the one you’re so desperate to hide from the world. I know who you love, Kelly. And it sure as hell ain’t that ugly runt Beck Skeever.” Shira smiles, and stares hard into Kelly’s eyes. Kelly feels a chill that goes deep into her soul.
afternoon. Dexter agrees to meet Shira at the Bremer Student Center on the Olympic College campus. Shira’s college classes begin today, so her high-school day ends after lunch. Shira buys him a mocha with whipped cream.
He looks at her sadly. “So it really happened, didn’t it.”
She smiles weakly. “I’m afraid so.”
“You found... her, and I’ve got...”
“Well, I never thought it would last, really. I’m a total rebel, and you always wanted a Yamato Nadeshiko.” Dexter laughs. Shira continues: “But I still love you, and I always will. You’re a lovely person, and you’re just plain beautiful besides. It’s just that our temperaments don’t match, that’s all.”
“So if you’d suggest anybody I could go with, who would it be?”
“How about Karen? I think she’s even your type.” Shira winks.
“You mean a Yamato Nadeshiko?” Shira nods. They both laugh. “You still want that date?”
“Sure. I still owe you that at least.”
“You think this new thing with Leila’s gonna last?”
“I don’t know. But I do know it’ll be damn exciting.”
night. Leila walks the length of the boardwalk alone to collect her thoughts after the events of the past few days. Her head still spins. Her whole sense of reality has been shaken. As she walks the mile between the ferry terminal and Evergreen Park, she doesn’t worry about any predators who may try to attack her. She knows she can beat them, and she’ll probably throw them off the boardwalk into the water. She dismisses the thought and thinks about Shira.
I love her, she says silently to herself. I really, really love her. In fact, I love her more than anybody I’ve ever loved in my life. I’ve never loved anyone so intensely in my life. But is it real, or is there something wrong with me?
She hears footsteps behind her. She does not turn around nor slow her pace yet, but she stays vigilant, just in case. The man behind her comes closer and closer. She is afraid of him, but she is ready to fight him if she has to. When he comes close enough to her, a few meters away, he stops. Then he says, in a French accent:
“Excuse me, but are you Leila Shelley?”
She turns around to see a man, sporting tousled hair and rumpled suit. He seems polite enough, but his eyes betray madness. She takes a defensive martial arts stance, just to be careful.
The man holds up his hands and pleads. “No! No! I have no intention of hurting you! I only want to talk to you. This is very important. It may save your life.”
She stands up, drops her head, and sighs. Then she looks back at him. She doesn’t want to take any chances. “So what is this about, that it may save my life?”
“You have been seen with Shira Thomas. Do you know her?”
“I am in love with her.”
“That is exactly what I was afraid of.”
“So what’s the problem? Is she in any trouble? Are you a cop or something?”
“Yes. You could say that. I am an Interpol agent. Or at least I was once. My name is Étienne Niemeyer. But you can call me ‘Steve’ if you prefer.”
“You’re after Shira, aren’ you.”
“Yes... actually, I was... once. But then I saw what she was, and... I saw her true nature, and I almost did not survive.... Let me put it this way: Have you ever heard of Rebel Styles?”
“I think I heard about her once or twice from a gangster I used to date. He said she was some kind of child porn star. I noticed he was afraid of her when he mentioned her.”
“He is right to be afraid. Rebel Styles has driven men to madness, even to murder. Do you know how she does it?”
“Uhh, how?”
“By projecting a reality distortion field. There is one other person who projects precisely that reality distortion field, and that is Shira Thomas. This is, I discovered at my great cost, because the two are in fact the same.”
“What does any of this have to do with me?”
“You have exposed yourself directly to that very same reality distortion field, and to the one who generates it. I can see that she has already disordered your sense of reality.”
“I see you really are mad.” Leila tries to run away from this Steve Niemeyer, but he catches her by the arm and spins her around to face him again.
“Listen to me! That woman is a dangerous drug! She will ruin you, even as she has ruined me! Do you know what we call her at Interpol? Do you know what codename we gave to the young woman you have fallen for?”
“I... I’d have no idea...”
Niemeyer’s mad eyes pierce into Leila’s. Slowly, with special emphasis, he pronounces: “Nymphetamine.”
18 June 2014...
The girl in the Flash video has smooth cinnamon skin and wild copper hair. She is curled up on the bedsheets and looks at the camera seductively. She is charismatic. She is completely nude. She is only eight.
“Who produced these videos?” asks Agent Diana Shockley.
“She did,” says Jean Étienne Niemeyer. His specialty in Interpol is child pornography. This video is just one in a huge collection he’s built up over the years, all of them starring an impossibly seductive young girl who goes by the name of Rebel Styles.
“She couldn’t have. No one that young can.”
“Turns out she did.”
“Someone must have forced her to do it.”
“No one. She did it all by herself. Just look at what she’s got in her hand.”
Diana stops the video. Clearly, in her left hand, eight-year-old Rebel is holding a remote. “She’s operating the camera herself?”
“That’s right.”
The camera zooms in so that Rebel’s face nearly fills it. Even that young, her charisma is nearly overwhelming.
“Hello, lovers,” she purrs. “Miss me? I missed you.”
Diana gasps. “How can she be that seductive at that age?”
Through gritted teeth Niemeyer says, “She had to be born that way. Already I hate her. She’s worse than any adult child pornographer.”
“How so?”
“Just watch.”
There is seduction in her smile, her voice, and her beautiful green eyes. This child is making love to her viewers. Rebel coos, “It’s bedtime, but I know you don’t feel sleepy. All you wanna do is spend the night with Rebel Rebel. Well, I’m here for you, and only for you..” She giggles sweetly.
The camera zooms out slowly. Rebel turns onto her back and stretches her lithe young body, remarkably taut for an eight-year-old girl. A dancer’s body already. Coyly, she keeps her legs to one side, still bent. She puts her hands behind her head. “I wanna play with you. I’m here and you’re there, but I can still touch you. I’m touching you right now. I wanna touch your heart.”
Rebel turns herself sideways in the picture and rolls over so as to show her full naked backside (Diana catches her breath). She lingers in the picture for what seems an endless moment but is in fact only a few seconds. The camera angle changes: a different camera. She rests her head in her hands, elbows on the bed to either side. She gives the camera her most seductive smile. The remote has disappeared from the picture. “You’re beautiful. You know I’m beautiful. And I love you.” In the final image, Rebel Styles’ beautiful smile is brighter than her perfect white teeth.
The horrified detectives stare at each other silently for several minutes until Diana breaks the silence.
“How could she have done this for so long without being caught?”
Niemeyer sighs. “Obviously she has to have had some hacker friends. From what we’ve gathered, this Rebel Styles has been running her site behind a paywall since mid-2006. She isn’t catering to a nonpaying mainstream audience. She doesn’t want us cops or the religious authorities to catch on to her. She’s catering entirely to pedophiles. And she’s been making loads of money off them for eight years.”
“This ‘Rebel Styles’ — I know her,” says Diana through her teeth. “Her name is Shira Thomas, who has been trouble for us since we kicked out the liberals. And now I know how she’s been getting all that money.”
“How do you know it’s this Shira Thomas?”
“By her reality distortion field.”
“Her what?”
“Reality distortion field, or RDF. Certain people are so charismatic that they can distort your perception of reality and warp your judgment. Rebel Styles looks exactly like Shira Thomas: the skin, the hair, the eyes, the mouth, that Cleopatra’s nose of hers. But without that charisma, it could be anybody. She could have been Resculpted or virtual. But you felt her charisma. Her image generated a reality distortion field. Face it, she made you want her. She made even me want her.” Diana sighs. “I have to warn you, Agent Niemeyer, her reality distortion field is far more intense in person. She can make you lose your sense of reality altogether. If you had been there and not watching, you would have been on her before you realized it. You wouldn’t have been able to control yourself. I’ve actually seen it happen.”
“So that’s how she’s evaded justice all these years...”
“Every time we catch her, she slips out of our hands.”
“I see.” He takes another sip of his martini. “You hate her far more than I ever could.”
“That’s because I’ve had to deal with her in person. The danger for you is that you could fall in love with her.”
24 June 2014...
For days now, Agent Niemeyer has been reviewing his collection of Rebel Rebel videos, looking specifically for the reality distortion effect Agent Shockley warned him about, watching them over and over and over...
The words she speaks so sweetly are different in each one. They are not necessarily seductive; he had merely shown Shockley one of the worst. But always, she is seductive. There is no development, no sudden emergence of her sexual charisma at puberty; she is every bit as seductive at six as she is at fourteen. Even worse, the six-year-old Rebel is just as sexual...
He can’t shake the impression that Rebel is speaking to him. He knows Rebel is speaking into a camera, speaking to an unknown audience, one she knows all too well. But if you watch her too long, she draws you in and makes you into one of those anonymous pedophiles, wanting her, lusting for her, falling in love with her, paying to watch her again and again and again...
Star, director, webmaster: she does everything herself. She’s done it all herself since the age of six...
That beautiful lithe child body dances in his dreams. Rebel Styles makes love to him in his dreams. He tries to run away, but she is everywhere. The obsessive thought torments him: A child... she’s only a child...
He’s losing his mind — and he feels it going...
3 July 2014...
Agent Niemeyer faces the young woman behind the sweet seductive little girl who torments his dreams. He has a few questions for Shira Thomas.
“Are you behind this Rebel Styles, Miss Thomas?”
She smiles innocently. “Agent, I am Rebel Styles. In California, at least.”
He stares at her in surprise. He never expected her to be so honest. But Agent Shockley said: Be vigilant around her. She’s always got something up her sleeve. “It’s a legal name, in other words. Am I right?”
“That’s right.”
“Well. You have a paid site in which you, uh, expose yourself. To pedophiles. Regular subscribers can see you in various states of undress, and you have a pay-per-view service in which you appear fully in the nude. In all of these, you are unusually, shall we say, sexy. Especially in the early years, when you were still just a child. We have collected every one of your videos and still photos from your site — and yes, we paid full price for them — and we have analyzed them thoroughly. And yes, we realize that you are the sole author. This means, of course, that you have full legal liability.”
“Full legal responsibility, if that’s what you mean. Otherwise, you are correct.”
“Right...” He eyes her suspiciously. She isn’t acting seductively right now, but he can feel her charisma. Shockley was right. “To continue... Most of your site’s paid members are known pedophiles. Some of them have been identified as dangerous predators. Now, Miss Thomas, why would you target such an unsavory audience?”
She looks up to the right and thinks a bit. “Well, this older girl I knew told me about a friend of hers, I forget her name, who was doing this kind of thing. I remember she was making a lot of money off it. So I tried it myself. She was right! My first pictures got so much money that I started doing the videos. I got the hang of it quickly, as you already figured out. Pedophiles turned out to be the perfect captive audience.” She leans forward and rests her head in her hands, elbows slightly apart — just like in the videos. “Now, don’t get the idea that I’m being exploited. I get that crap all the time from those femiNazi types. They want me to be a lesbo-nun or something. The pedophiles, they’re helpless. They can’t help what they’re doing. They’re under compulsion. Me, I know what I’m doing. I’m totally in control at all times. They’re not exploiting me, not one bit. I’m exploiting them.”
Niemeyer smirks triumphantly. “You know, Miss Thomas, that child pornography is illegal, and pedophiles are criminals. That means we’ll have to put you, and them, away for a very long time. This is not about sex, not in the least. This is about evil. There’s no Exception around that.”
She smirks at him cockeyed. That look, Shockley called it. “‘Now I’ve got you, bitch,’ says the smirk on his face. Well, you want an Exception, here it is.” Now her smirk is triumphant as she whips out her Incorporation papers. “I’ve got full immunity.” She hands the papers to Niemeyer. “You see, I’m Incorporated.”
Niemeyer screams and screams and screams...
The girl in the Flash video has smooth cinnamon skin and wild copper hair. She is curled up on the bedsheets and looks at the camera seductively. She is charismatic. She is completely nude. She is only eight.
“Who produced these videos?” asks Agent Diana Shockley.
“She did,” says Jean Étienne Niemeyer. His specialty in Interpol is child pornography. This video is just one in a huge collection he’s built up over the years, all of them starring an impossibly seductive young girl who goes by the name of Rebel Styles.
“She couldn’t have. No one that young can.”
“Turns out she did.”
“Someone must have forced her to do it.”
“No one. She did it all by herself. Just look at what she’s got in her hand.”
Diana stops the video. Clearly, in her left hand, eight-year-old Rebel is holding a remote. “She’s operating the camera herself?”
“That’s right.”
The camera zooms in so that Rebel’s face nearly fills it. Even that young, her charisma is nearly overwhelming.
“Hello, lovers,” she purrs. “Miss me? I missed you.”
Diana gasps. “How can she be that seductive at that age?”
Through gritted teeth Niemeyer says, “She had to be born that way. Already I hate her. She’s worse than any adult child pornographer.”
“How so?”
“Just watch.”
There is seduction in her smile, her voice, and her beautiful green eyes. This child is making love to her viewers. Rebel coos, “It’s bedtime, but I know you don’t feel sleepy. All you wanna do is spend the night with Rebel Rebel. Well, I’m here for you, and only for you..” She giggles sweetly.
The camera zooms out slowly. Rebel turns onto her back and stretches her lithe young body, remarkably taut for an eight-year-old girl. A dancer’s body already. Coyly, she keeps her legs to one side, still bent. She puts her hands behind her head. “I wanna play with you. I’m here and you’re there, but I can still touch you. I’m touching you right now. I wanna touch your heart.”
Rebel turns herself sideways in the picture and rolls over so as to show her full naked backside (Diana catches her breath). She lingers in the picture for what seems an endless moment but is in fact only a few seconds. The camera angle changes: a different camera. She rests her head in her hands, elbows on the bed to either side. She gives the camera her most seductive smile. The remote has disappeared from the picture. “You’re beautiful. You know I’m beautiful. And I love you.” In the final image, Rebel Styles’ beautiful smile is brighter than her perfect white teeth.
The horrified detectives stare at each other silently for several minutes until Diana breaks the silence.
“How could she have done this for so long without being caught?”
Niemeyer sighs. “Obviously she has to have had some hacker friends. From what we’ve gathered, this Rebel Styles has been running her site behind a paywall since mid-2006. She isn’t catering to a nonpaying mainstream audience. She doesn’t want us cops or the religious authorities to catch on to her. She’s catering entirely to pedophiles. And she’s been making loads of money off them for eight years.”
“This ‘Rebel Styles’ — I know her,” says Diana through her teeth. “Her name is Shira Thomas, who has been trouble for us since we kicked out the liberals. And now I know how she’s been getting all that money.”
“How do you know it’s this Shira Thomas?”
“By her reality distortion field.”
“Her what?”
“Reality distortion field, or RDF. Certain people are so charismatic that they can distort your perception of reality and warp your judgment. Rebel Styles looks exactly like Shira Thomas: the skin, the hair, the eyes, the mouth, that Cleopatra’s nose of hers. But without that charisma, it could be anybody. She could have been Resculpted or virtual. But you felt her charisma. Her image generated a reality distortion field. Face it, she made you want her. She made even me want her.” Diana sighs. “I have to warn you, Agent Niemeyer, her reality distortion field is far more intense in person. She can make you lose your sense of reality altogether. If you had been there and not watching, you would have been on her before you realized it. You wouldn’t have been able to control yourself. I’ve actually seen it happen.”
“So that’s how she’s evaded justice all these years...”
“Every time we catch her, she slips out of our hands.”
“I see.” He takes another sip of his martini. “You hate her far more than I ever could.”
“That’s because I’ve had to deal with her in person. The danger for you is that you could fall in love with her.”
24 June 2014...
For days now, Agent Niemeyer has been reviewing his collection of Rebel Rebel videos, looking specifically for the reality distortion effect Agent Shockley warned him about, watching them over and over and over...
The words she speaks so sweetly are different in each one. They are not necessarily seductive; he had merely shown Shockley one of the worst. But always, she is seductive. There is no development, no sudden emergence of her sexual charisma at puberty; she is every bit as seductive at six as she is at fourteen. Even worse, the six-year-old Rebel is just as sexual...
He can’t shake the impression that Rebel is speaking to him. He knows Rebel is speaking into a camera, speaking to an unknown audience, one she knows all too well. But if you watch her too long, she draws you in and makes you into one of those anonymous pedophiles, wanting her, lusting for her, falling in love with her, paying to watch her again and again and again...
Star, director, webmaster: she does everything herself. She’s done it all herself since the age of six...
That beautiful lithe child body dances in his dreams. Rebel Styles makes love to him in his dreams. He tries to run away, but she is everywhere. The obsessive thought torments him: A child... she’s only a child...
He’s losing his mind — and he feels it going...
3 July 2014...
Agent Niemeyer faces the young woman behind the sweet seductive little girl who torments his dreams. He has a few questions for Shira Thomas.
“Are you behind this Rebel Styles, Miss Thomas?”
She smiles innocently. “Agent, I am Rebel Styles. In California, at least.”
He stares at her in surprise. He never expected her to be so honest. But Agent Shockley said: Be vigilant around her. She’s always got something up her sleeve. “It’s a legal name, in other words. Am I right?”
“That’s right.”
“Well. You have a paid site in which you, uh, expose yourself. To pedophiles. Regular subscribers can see you in various states of undress, and you have a pay-per-view service in which you appear fully in the nude. In all of these, you are unusually, shall we say, sexy. Especially in the early years, when you were still just a child. We have collected every one of your videos and still photos from your site — and yes, we paid full price for them — and we have analyzed them thoroughly. And yes, we realize that you are the sole author. This means, of course, that you have full legal liability.”
“Full legal responsibility, if that’s what you mean. Otherwise, you are correct.”
“Right...” He eyes her suspiciously. She isn’t acting seductively right now, but he can feel her charisma. Shockley was right. “To continue... Most of your site’s paid members are known pedophiles. Some of them have been identified as dangerous predators. Now, Miss Thomas, why would you target such an unsavory audience?”
She looks up to the right and thinks a bit. “Well, this older girl I knew told me about a friend of hers, I forget her name, who was doing this kind of thing. I remember she was making a lot of money off it. So I tried it myself. She was right! My first pictures got so much money that I started doing the videos. I got the hang of it quickly, as you already figured out. Pedophiles turned out to be the perfect captive audience.” She leans forward and rests her head in her hands, elbows slightly apart — just like in the videos. “Now, don’t get the idea that I’m being exploited. I get that crap all the time from those femiNazi types. They want me to be a lesbo-nun or something. The pedophiles, they’re helpless. They can’t help what they’re doing. They’re under compulsion. Me, I know what I’m doing. I’m totally in control at all times. They’re not exploiting me, not one bit. I’m exploiting them.”
Niemeyer smirks triumphantly. “You know, Miss Thomas, that child pornography is illegal, and pedophiles are criminals. That means we’ll have to put you, and them, away for a very long time. This is not about sex, not in the least. This is about evil. There’s no Exception around that.”
She smirks at him cockeyed. That look, Shockley called it. “‘Now I’ve got you, bitch,’ says the smirk on his face. Well, you want an Exception, here it is.” Now her smirk is triumphant as she whips out her Incorporation papers. “I’ve got full immunity.” She hands the papers to Niemeyer. “You see, I’m Incorporated.”
Niemeyer screams and screams and screams...
22 September 2014
“Now do you realize the danger you’re in?”
Leila stares back at the former Interpol agent for a time. Then she lowers her head, smiles, and laughs. He stares back at her, confused.
“Maybe, Mr. Niemeyer, you should have looked more deeply into my background. If you had known me better, then you would have realized how much I crave danger.”
Niemeyer shrinks back in horror. “But you...”
Leila’s face lights up in ecstasy. “You’ve convinced me. Now that you’ve shown me who Shira really is, I know for certain that I’ll love her forever!”
“Are you so sure she will?” Leila and Niemeyer turn toward the voice and are shocked to see Will Becket.
“H-how did you get here?” says Niemeyer, panicked.
Will quietly chuckles. “I’ve been shadowing you the entire time.”
Leila sashays up to Will and says defiantly, “You were going to drop some more dirt about Shira?”
“Actually, I was going to tell your new friend about you. Mr. Niemeyer, you don’t realize who you are speaking with.”
“So,” asks Niemeyer, “what about Miss Shelley could be worse than what I have just told her about her new girlfriend?”
“Apparently, you’ve been so obsessed with putting an end to Rebel Rebel that you missed out on the many scandals surrounding our young companion. It’s been all over the press for the past five years or so.”
“So tell me, Commander,” says Niemeyer grimly. “I’d like to know.”
As Leila watches on in dread, Will recounts...
14 February 2008...
Leila wakes up to find herself bleeding from between her legs. She runs naked and screaming into her mother’s bedroom, convinced that she is dying.
Taylor Brinkman gets herself out of bed to hold her terrified daughter close against her nude tattooed body and comfort her. “Oh, darling. You’re not dying. You’re starting to transform into a beautiful woman. I had the same reaction when I was your age.” She showers Leila’s face with kisses.
Leila Shelley is only nine years old.
5 November 2008...
When Leila and her twin brother Robert turn ten, her body has already changed into a stunning sylphlike form. All the adults and teenagers attending their birthday party praise her beauty. On a whim, she decides to take off all her clothes and appear to them nude for the rest of the night. She captures their sole attention and learns that beauty is power.
After everyone else has gone home, a fifteen-year-old lover of her mother’s named Brian takes her into her bed and makes love to her for the first time in her life. She is so overwhelmed by the intensity of the sexual experience that she makes him swear to be her lover and teach her everything he knows about sex.
12 January 2009...
“Leila, I can’t live with you anymore,” says a desperate Brian.
Leila panics. “Why? You can’t! You still love me!”
“Yes, I still love you. But I can’t handle you. If I stay with you any longer, I’ll go mad!”
“What’s wrong with me?” she wails.
“It’s the drama, Leila. It’s the drama. I just can’t handle your drama anymore. I don’t know if anyone can handle you.”
She throws herself into his arms and holds onto him for dear life. “No! Please don’t leave me! You can’t! I love you!”
He struggles as hard as he can to escape her death grasp. She stares at him in terror as he says, “Leila, please don’t. I still love you, but I’ll hate you if I stay with you any longer. That’s why I have to leave you. Goodbye.”
She screams, “NOOOOOOOO!” She runs into the street, trying to get hit by the first car that comes by. He runs after her and drags her kicking and screaming to safety.
21 June 2010...
Leila stands proudly on the stage, totally nude in front of a huge outdoor crowd but for the white sash that says “Miss Junior Nude Europe 2010.” She waves and blows kisses at the crowd as they cheer, scream, and howl in absolute adoration. Right now the crowd exists only to love her and worship her beautiful nude body. They hail her as the most beautiful young woman in Europe. To her the pleasure feels more intense than any sexual experience she has had so far in her still very young life. The love she feels for them right now is so intense it verges on spiritual ecstasy; she wants it to last forever. She hopes that millions more throughout Europe and the world are watching her on television.
5 July 2010...
The young beauty queen attracts the attention of a youth-obsessed oil billionaire from Texas named Billy Joe Steele. He hides her away in a cottage on one of his properties. He showers her with wealth, luxury, and comfort. He makes her feel wanted. He makes love to her as much as his schedule permits. When he is gone, he leaves specially sworn employees to watch over her and keep her from getting bored or homesick. He chooses men and women he can blackmail.
He is a former CIA man, a master of keeping things secret. He vows his personal employees to absolute silence about her, on pain of death. He convinces the American government that he is working on a top secret project important to national security. His wife suspects nothing.
He has reason to keep his affair with her a secret. The federally mandated age of consent in America is eighteen. Sex with a teenager is legally considered child rape; the punishment is merciless. In less than a year and a half, the crime will be punished only by death, without exception. Leila is only eleven.
1 November 2010...
Billy Joe Steele is found dead by a personal employee, having hanged himself after getting drunk at the previous night’s huge Halloween costume party. Leila became increasingly demanding on him, to the point where even his wife could not ignore the stress she put on him. Eventually, his jealous granddaughter, Deborah Becket, found out and blackmailed him: she threatened to tell the world about his affair with the younger girl if he did not end it and banish her. He had grown too attached to her. Emotionally, he was her slave. He sent her back to Ireland, then chose to end his life and take his secrets to the grave with him.
5 November 2010...
Overwhelmed by grief, Leila loses control of herself and attempts suicide by slashing her wrists at her own birthday party. She is taken to the hospital under sedation.
25 December 2010...
Taylor Brinkman takes her three beautiful children Leila, Robert, and Fiona with her to a record company Christmas party in London, attended by rock ’n’ roll royalty decked out in full regalia. In place of their footballer father Ian Shelley, their godfather Rat Scabies goes with them and makes a complete nuisance of himself as usual.
A thirtyish glampunk rocker known as Johnny Dead, notorious for his self-destructive behavior and his addiction to jailbait, sweeps Leila off her feet and takes her home with him. They jump into his bed and make passionate love all night long.
1 January 2011...
At the strike of midnight signalling the coming of the new year, Johnny ties her up and introduces her to bondage games. He drips hot candle wax onto her sensitive skin, ending with her nipples and clitoris. He whips her till she screams with pain. He humiliates her. She realizes that she is hardwired for sexual masochism. It turns her on so intensely that she begs him to do it again.
20 January 2011...
Johnny Dead crashes his black Ferrari into a wall, hoping to kill both himself and Leila. His corpse is unrecognizable. Leila somehow survives. Maddened by grief, she begins to cut herself.
17 March 2011...
Leila does not like self-identifying Irish-Americans. She does not like their corned beef and cabbage, nor their green beer, and she certainly does not like their Saint Patrick’s Day. She gets herself drunk on unpigmented Guinness ale and finds herself in bed with an Argentine Formula One race car driver named O’Riordan. His first name is Carlos. In the morning, she discovers that he prefers his women as dangerous as his cars. She promises to be dangerous for him. He makes love to her until her hangover is gone.
1 May 2011...
Carlos O’Riordan dies in a spectacular crash that kills three drivers and twelve spectators. Leila is nearby when it happens. She tries to get to him in hopes that she will find him alive. When the medics tell her he did in fact die, she breaks down completely in a frenzy of grief. She has to be taken to the hospital under sedation.
18 July 2012...
A man breaks into the Shelley family home in Dublin, rapes Leila, and gets away before she can pick up a knife and kill him. Taylor demands he be brought to justice. Leila coldly vows to murder him.
21 August 2012...
A man who had served time in prison for multiple rapes and was suspected in several more is found dead in a trash-strewn alley in the worst section of Dublin. He was stabbed to death and then fed to rats. Everyone knows Leila killed him in revenge; she had stalked him the entire previous month. Everyone knows no one can prove she did it.
1 April 2013...
Taylor, facing obliteration by legal problems, sends Leila and Robert to a recently constructed arcology built on the outskirts of Los Angeles as a new center for the fashion and entertainment industries, called Pretty City. Their extreme natural beauty makes them the favorites of the fashion designers and photographers. But from the day they arrive, the other young residents of Pretty City, who merely possess the anonymous beauty of the surgically Resculpted, envy them bitterly. A group led by two of its leading models, Ian Woon, his sister Marin, and his eccentric girlfriend Lala Sun-Microsoft, welcome them with an especially cruel prank.
14 February 2014...
The resistance of the Resculpted against the Shelley twins for their extreme beauty and her extreme emotional volatility becomes so violent that Leila and Robert are forced to choose between full-body Resculpting that would destroy their natural beauty and individual character, and expulsion. They choose to leave.
Leila wakes up to find herself bleeding from between her legs. She runs naked and screaming into her mother’s bedroom, convinced that she is dying.
Taylor Brinkman gets herself out of bed to hold her terrified daughter close against her nude tattooed body and comfort her. “Oh, darling. You’re not dying. You’re starting to transform into a beautiful woman. I had the same reaction when I was your age.” She showers Leila’s face with kisses.
Leila Shelley is only nine years old.
5 November 2008...
When Leila and her twin brother Robert turn ten, her body has already changed into a stunning sylphlike form. All the adults and teenagers attending their birthday party praise her beauty. On a whim, she decides to take off all her clothes and appear to them nude for the rest of the night. She captures their sole attention and learns that beauty is power.
After everyone else has gone home, a fifteen-year-old lover of her mother’s named Brian takes her into her bed and makes love to her for the first time in her life. She is so overwhelmed by the intensity of the sexual experience that she makes him swear to be her lover and teach her everything he knows about sex.
12 January 2009...
“Leila, I can’t live with you anymore,” says a desperate Brian.
Leila panics. “Why? You can’t! You still love me!”
“Yes, I still love you. But I can’t handle you. If I stay with you any longer, I’ll go mad!”
“What’s wrong with me?” she wails.
“It’s the drama, Leila. It’s the drama. I just can’t handle your drama anymore. I don’t know if anyone can handle you.”
She throws herself into his arms and holds onto him for dear life. “No! Please don’t leave me! You can’t! I love you!”
He struggles as hard as he can to escape her death grasp. She stares at him in terror as he says, “Leila, please don’t. I still love you, but I’ll hate you if I stay with you any longer. That’s why I have to leave you. Goodbye.”
She screams, “NOOOOOOOO!” She runs into the street, trying to get hit by the first car that comes by. He runs after her and drags her kicking and screaming to safety.
21 June 2010...
Leila stands proudly on the stage, totally nude in front of a huge outdoor crowd but for the white sash that says “Miss Junior Nude Europe 2010.” She waves and blows kisses at the crowd as they cheer, scream, and howl in absolute adoration. Right now the crowd exists only to love her and worship her beautiful nude body. They hail her as the most beautiful young woman in Europe. To her the pleasure feels more intense than any sexual experience she has had so far in her still very young life. The love she feels for them right now is so intense it verges on spiritual ecstasy; she wants it to last forever. She hopes that millions more throughout Europe and the world are watching her on television.
5 July 2010...
The young beauty queen attracts the attention of a youth-obsessed oil billionaire from Texas named Billy Joe Steele. He hides her away in a cottage on one of his properties. He showers her with wealth, luxury, and comfort. He makes her feel wanted. He makes love to her as much as his schedule permits. When he is gone, he leaves specially sworn employees to watch over her and keep her from getting bored or homesick. He chooses men and women he can blackmail.
He is a former CIA man, a master of keeping things secret. He vows his personal employees to absolute silence about her, on pain of death. He convinces the American government that he is working on a top secret project important to national security. His wife suspects nothing.
He has reason to keep his affair with her a secret. The federally mandated age of consent in America is eighteen. Sex with a teenager is legally considered child rape; the punishment is merciless. In less than a year and a half, the crime will be punished only by death, without exception. Leila is only eleven.
1 November 2010...
Billy Joe Steele is found dead by a personal employee, having hanged himself after getting drunk at the previous night’s huge Halloween costume party. Leila became increasingly demanding on him, to the point where even his wife could not ignore the stress she put on him. Eventually, his jealous granddaughter, Deborah Becket, found out and blackmailed him: she threatened to tell the world about his affair with the younger girl if he did not end it and banish her. He had grown too attached to her. Emotionally, he was her slave. He sent her back to Ireland, then chose to end his life and take his secrets to the grave with him.
5 November 2010...
Overwhelmed by grief, Leila loses control of herself and attempts suicide by slashing her wrists at her own birthday party. She is taken to the hospital under sedation.
25 December 2010...
Taylor Brinkman takes her three beautiful children Leila, Robert, and Fiona with her to a record company Christmas party in London, attended by rock ’n’ roll royalty decked out in full regalia. In place of their footballer father Ian Shelley, their godfather Rat Scabies goes with them and makes a complete nuisance of himself as usual.
A thirtyish glampunk rocker known as Johnny Dead, notorious for his self-destructive behavior and his addiction to jailbait, sweeps Leila off her feet and takes her home with him. They jump into his bed and make passionate love all night long.
1 January 2011...
At the strike of midnight signalling the coming of the new year, Johnny ties her up and introduces her to bondage games. He drips hot candle wax onto her sensitive skin, ending with her nipples and clitoris. He whips her till she screams with pain. He humiliates her. She realizes that she is hardwired for sexual masochism. It turns her on so intensely that she begs him to do it again.
20 January 2011...
Johnny Dead crashes his black Ferrari into a wall, hoping to kill both himself and Leila. His corpse is unrecognizable. Leila somehow survives. Maddened by grief, she begins to cut herself.
17 March 2011...
Leila does not like self-identifying Irish-Americans. She does not like their corned beef and cabbage, nor their green beer, and she certainly does not like their Saint Patrick’s Day. She gets herself drunk on unpigmented Guinness ale and finds herself in bed with an Argentine Formula One race car driver named O’Riordan. His first name is Carlos. In the morning, she discovers that he prefers his women as dangerous as his cars. She promises to be dangerous for him. He makes love to her until her hangover is gone.
1 May 2011...
Carlos O’Riordan dies in a spectacular crash that kills three drivers and twelve spectators. Leila is nearby when it happens. She tries to get to him in hopes that she will find him alive. When the medics tell her he did in fact die, she breaks down completely in a frenzy of grief. She has to be taken to the hospital under sedation.
18 July 2012...
A man breaks into the Shelley family home in Dublin, rapes Leila, and gets away before she can pick up a knife and kill him. Taylor demands he be brought to justice. Leila coldly vows to murder him.
21 August 2012...
A man who had served time in prison for multiple rapes and was suspected in several more is found dead in a trash-strewn alley in the worst section of Dublin. He was stabbed to death and then fed to rats. Everyone knows Leila killed him in revenge; she had stalked him the entire previous month. Everyone knows no one can prove she did it.
1 April 2013...
Taylor, facing obliteration by legal problems, sends Leila and Robert to a recently constructed arcology built on the outskirts of Los Angeles as a new center for the fashion and entertainment industries, called Pretty City. Their extreme natural beauty makes them the favorites of the fashion designers and photographers. But from the day they arrive, the other young residents of Pretty City, who merely possess the anonymous beauty of the surgically Resculpted, envy them bitterly. A group led by two of its leading models, Ian Woon, his sister Marin, and his eccentric girlfriend Lala Sun-Microsoft, welcome them with an especially cruel prank.
14 February 2014...
The resistance of the Resculpted against the Shelley twins for their extreme beauty and her extreme emotional volatility becomes so violent that Leila and Robert are forced to choose between full-body Resculpting that would destroy their natural beauty and individual character, and expulsion. They choose to leave.
22 September 2014
Steve Niemeyer gapes at Leila in horror. “I... I see...”
“See?” concludes Will Becket. “Perhaps Shira Thomas and Leila Shelley deserve each other. If we are fortunate, they will destroy each other and rid the world of two people who together may even threaten the very fabric of reality itself.”
Leila stares at Will in disbelief. “William, just because I’ve had a hard life doesn’t mean I’m a menace to society.”
“Nobody truly believes they are a danger, even if they are, except for Nihilists.” On that note, Will turns to leave.
Niemeyer turns to Leila and asks, “If he’s right and you really are that bad... should I warn your girlfriend, Shira Thomas, about you?”
Leila sighs. “You’d be too late. She already knows.”
23 September 2014
Midnight at Hope and Shira’s flat. Shira and her gorgeous new lesbian lover Leila take a long hot shower together for the first time. Shira runs soapy hands up and down the length of Leila’s soft slim body, caresses her smooth sensitive skin, gently kneads her breasts and her buttocks and then her breasts again, strokes and fondles the soft folds of her cunt. Leila moans, cries, squeals, screams as the surprisingly expert Shira brings her to multiple orgasm. Shira washes Leila’s hair as if caressing a lover; Leila loves it when someone puts their fingers gently through her hair. After she rinses the shampoo out of her hair, Shira uses her hands to help the water rinse the last remaining soap off Leila’s skin. She holds Leila close and gives her a long sweet kiss. “Your turn.”
Leila soaps her hands thoroughly with mad determination, then runs her hands lustily over Shira’s skin, shocking Shira with her intensity. She feels Shira up to get every square millimeter of her smooth dark skin soaped, then once to get all the soap off. Then while Shira still faces the shower head, Leila draws her smooth tight body tight against her, squeezes her soft firm breasts, reaches down to rub her clit hard, making her scream, then sticks two fingers into her slit and makes love to Shira with her determined hand for twenty-five minutes they experience as hours.
They dry each other off, brush each other’s hair, and walk arm in arm into Shira’s bedroom without feeling any need to dress nor breaking their kiss. After Shira closes the door, Leila purrs, “A crazy man accosted me tonight to tell me deep dark secrets about you.”
Shira turns to her in surprise. “You don’t mean—”
“Yes, I mean. He told me you were the infamous Rebel Styles. I know for a fact it’s actually how they know you down in Pretty City. At least I know Ian and Marni Woon do.”
“No, you don’t—”
“Yes, I do. I love you more than my life, Shira. Will you do it for me?”
Shira starts to fear for Leila. “No. That’s out of the question.”
“Will you show me your Rebel Rebel videos?”
“Leila, are you out of your mind?”
Leila plants a kiss on Shira’s lips. “Yes. I am. Especially for you. You have your checkered past, and I have mine. I wanna see yours. I love you. Please do this for me.”
Shira stares at Leila, fearing for her sanity. Then she goes to her dresser, opens the bottom drawer, takes out the small safe hidden in the back right corner, and spins the combination. “I should warn you. These have been known to drive respectable men to commit rape, murder, and suicide.” She opens the safe door and shoots a look at Leila. “They’ve driven men mad, dammit. But if you want, I’ll show you.”
“Oh, thank you!” Leila kisses her in gratitude.
Shira flips open her laptop, changes her user account from “Loca Fantoma” to “Spanner” at the Ubuntu Studio login screen, types in a long password and presses enter, extracts an SD card from the open safe, removes it from its case, and inserts it into one of the two SD card slots on the computer. A Dolphin file manager window opens to the card’s root directory. She clicks on one of the Flash animation files, and VLC Media Player opens full screen to play it. Leila bends over to stare at the screen in rapt attention. Shira’s attention is focused entirely at the nude beauty in front of her.
When Rebel Styles appears on screen, she looks exactly like a younger version of Shira. Nine years old in the video, to be exact. She lies on her left side on the bed, her knees bent, her hands on her groin. “Hello again, boys. Miss me? Rebel Rebel’s back, just for you.” This girl is charismatic, seductive, irresistible. She rolls over onto her back, hands still between her legs, and stares up at the camera with Shira’s familiar wide-eyed seductive look.
Leila’s eyes and mouth are wide open in utter fascination. “Oh my god, I’m in love.”
In another Rebel Rebel video, Rebel introduces another girl who looks exactly like her. “Twin sister?” Shira sadly nods. Leila realizes that Shira’s twin must have died in the coup. Rebel rolls onto her twin sister Cleopatra, kisses her with undisguised lust, kisses her way down the moaning girl’s body, reaches her bare little cunny, turns herself around so that they take 69 formation, are obviously and gleefully making love—
Leila gasps.
After Shira plays a few more videos, she closes up the laptop and faces a stunned Leila. The black-haired beauty looks over the grown-up Rebel Styles before her: full breasts, curvy hips, long beautiful legs... She quakes with desire; her blush grows redder by the second. Shira’s worry is plain on her face. Leila laughs and says, “I’ve fallen totally in love with Rebel Styles, and here she is, standing right in front of me. Yes, Shira, you have driven me mad. Mad for you. I want you so bad, it hurts.” She throws herself into Shira’s arms, holds her tight, plants on her lips a kiss hard with uncontrollable desire. “Fuck me, Rebel Styles. Fuck me as hard as you can.”
Shira picks her up and throws her onto the bed. She leaps onto the bed, straddles her, fondles her breast, squeezes them so that her conical nipples point upward. “Leila, you have beautiful nipples.” Leila’s nipples are painfully hard; Shira caresses their painfully sensitive dark skin with her thumbs, making Leila scream in exquisite agony. She continues to stroke the hard nipples till Leila shudders in a screaming orgasm. Then almost violently she goes down to put her mouth over Leila’s right breast, sucking and biting; Leila screams, cries, shakes violently, explodes in violent ecstasy over and over as Shira attacks her right and then left breast. Shira moves her exploring mouth down to Leila’s flowery cunt, bites it repeatedly, licks inside, clamps her hard clit with her teeth and rubs them back and forth hard on it, sticks her tongue into her waiting slit; orgasmic ecstasy so overcomes Leila that she forgets who she is. Then Shira mounts her, sticks her middle finger up Leila’s cunt and her thumb up her own, finds the hard sensitive spots in the vaginal walls and digs in hard, attacks Leila’s clit with her own; their screams merge as Leila loses all sense of reality and her body explodes into pure white light and she merges with Shira and they become one...
For what seems several aeons, the two lovers cannot tell whether they are awake or dreaming. They dream waking in a state of unending orgasmic ecstasy all night. And then the alarm goes off and they wake up—
Shira sits bolt upright, stunned at the experience. “Whoa...”
Leila rolls over to face Shira, letting the bedcovers roll off her breasts. She gazes up at her and silently mouths the words I love you.
Making love to Leila energizes Shira the way sweet, gentle Dexter never did. She chuckles. “I don’t think we’ll be tired today.” She falls onto Leila, and they kiss as hard and passionately as they can.
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[Revision 1.0.1, 12/4/10: Text corrections; restored an omitted paragraph.]
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