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Author Topic: R & D at F.E.M.M.  (Read 69489 times)

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teddi

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« Reply #14 on: February 12, 2010, 12:15:41 PM »
“Segreto superiore
now that’s a hot news flash” was just another imprudent sarcastic force of habit remark that endeared him to few.  “Segreto superiore” he muttered again to no one in particular but then went on to explain, “Mark, the words mean
Top secret. Are you sure you didn’t leave out any other strange words.  After all, you’re the one who says that he has a real good memory.  Besides, the last two words you said are more or less meaningless unless they’re preceded by other words that go along with ‘em.   Take a second and think real hard
I wouldn’t want you to confuse someone who’s old like me on purpose.”

“Well,” came the hesitant reply
 there were a couple of other words that came after the first two
perry
I mean
per i vostri.  Sorry.  That’s all.”

Neither Michelle nor Larry was inclined to offer any more information as to the words actual meaning as both preferred to have their now willing subject to recount whatever nuances that came to mind without interruption.  After all, it was easier to sort out whatever information there was after the subject’s narrative rather than to start and stop on whatever word that might have piqued their individual interests.

Larry’s brief smile and “If that’s all, that’s o.k.” took Mark Porter by surprise.  “Besides,” he added, “it’s not like you were trying to leave anything out on purpose
were you?”

“Of course,” Mark thought to himself, “I’m gonna leave out what’s embarrassing to me and that I don’t want you to know about.”  Unfortunately for him, what he didn’t want them to know they already knew and that that information came from the memory chips of the planted monitoring devices that they recovered from both residences.  It was always better to have an ace or two in the hole just to use as a trump.  Michelle waited for Larry’s lead. 

Normally he would’ve hit the kid over the head
verbally
and got in his face while flat out screaming in his loud bass voice calling him a liar and a couple of other choice things; but he didn’t.  Instead he uncharacteristically allowed the boy the comfort of his self-imposed silence.  Besides, both knew that eventually, as with any interrogation, that there would be numerous opportunities for follow-ups and that whatever else was going to come out would be just as pertinent if not more so; the significant caveat in waiting was obvious; would the information be timely enough to forestall any other unwanted actions.  Furthermore, both understood, that with any interrogation or debriefing, the initial encounter was always the most awkward and least prone to the personal rapport necessary for meaningful interaction and acc-umulation of further information.  In this case it was best to wait and let nature take its course.  Besides, from here on out, wherever the boy went he’d be surreptitiously wired.  Until this was over he’d be a walking, talking listening and tracking device.  His every move would be tracked and every word spoken recorded.

Larry allowed his silence to sink in for some thirty seconds then spoke, “No, of course you wouldn’t
after all
you’re a smart boy
with a good memory
whose about to go meet his mother without a chip on his shoulder.  I’m sure that she’ll back up your good memory
after all
why would a smart boy like you try to hide something from someone old like me?  Right?”

He was quick to follow up with “Mark, if your finished then get dressed, then,” he added, “Before you leave we have to come to an understanding.”  He didn’t explain what he meant and allowed an uneasy and tentative Mark Porter to wordlessly stew. 

Under normal circ-umstances Mark would’ve literally jumped out of the chair and bolted straight way for his clothes putting them on without hesitation.  But that was under normal circ-umstances.  Now, with two pairs of eyes watching his every move he felt as if he was under a microscope.  Then, it suddenly hit him that he was.  For some reason it all started to sink in. 

The look on his face which immediately turned three sheets of red said it all to both Larry and Michelle; that the boy understood that even if he didn’t say a damn word that there was a recorded history of what he was up to and that they both knew about it. 

Larry wasn’t about to let the moment pass so he did what came naturally to him by telling Mark, “Your embarrassed about some of the stuff you wanted to keep secret.  Fine.  I understand so does my deputy.  What we want is your co-operation, besides, neither Michelle or myself is going to go out and tell anyone what you were up to with Stacey
but that might not stop someone else who bugged both of your homes from trying to blackmail you or her or your mother or hers.  So here’s what I’m proposing, we have the latest in wireless tracking and monitoring devices and we want you to be a mule.”

Marks look of surprise was not unexpected.  Larry had purposely used the analogy to let his newest charge understand that sometimes being a jackass is not such a good thing.  Larry explained the analogy in a decidedly gentler voice with, “Mark that means we want you to carry it.”

"You know, someone "old" like me, just might get under your skin every now and then, but then again I’m not what you’d call that rad of a dude.  But my deputy is another case.  I would consider her a specialist.   What she has for you, to carry, if you agree, is completely concealed because it’s
 subcutaneous.  That my young novice means that it will be under your skin and it is decidedly less irritating than me.   Now, since you’re in it up to your neck, what’ll it be?

A sheepish Mark Porter nodded and whispered his reply of “I’ll do it.”


teddi

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« Reply #15 on: March 04, 2010, 05:02:04 PM »
“I’ll do it.  Yes I will,” and that’s exactly what Shellie Porter thought to herself at the same moment.  She still had some time before she’d make her late morning appearance at F.E.M.M. so she decided to make the most of it and turned into the first vacant space she found fronting the town’s two unisex stores on Main Street where the display window of “Uni’s-ex” was in the process of being changed out.  



Getting out of the car she took in both store fronts simultaneously and noted the one she now stood in front of, was in stark contrast to the store’s adjacent companion, “Falsetto’s,” to the left; Uni’s two decidedly male mannequins now stood placidly in the midst of their incomplete makeover; still in their entire half naked yet pronounced androgynous splendor.  Obviously they were in the process of being changed out and, like it or not, that’s exactly what Shellie Porter was going in there to do for her Marki; change him out.  



Lingering for a moment she approvingly took in what she saw.  Both dummies now sported fashionable auburn wigs on top of their heads; the one to her left wore one obviously to emulate a girl whose long locks were softly curled.  However, the one on the right, sported one which was decidedly shorter; almost boyish yet particularly, if not appealingly, feminine.  She thought that for that particular dummy it seemed appropriate; that she also thought of her own newly renamed son at the same moment was not coincidental; all things considered, for the time being that style, with modification, would suite him.



That particular pixie wore an attractive pink layered mesh baby doll with contrast colors and was adorned with a lovely white ribbon; as were the mid-thigh pink hose that stopped enticingly but an inch from its diaphanous bottom edge.  The open toed white patent leather sandals on its feet were further accented by the pink ruffled lace anklets it wore.  A matching lace purse with white and lavender embroidered edge hankies was draped from an upturned left wrist while a book entitled “Sissies Wear” had been cleverly attached with a mauve ribbon to the right palm.  She considered each of the items judiciously and next turned her attention to the dressmaker's dummy on the left.  



She decided that this one had more personality or potential as it wore a corset which began just below the bust and dropped to but a few inches below its waist line.  There, below the waistline, each of its satin straps had been pulled taught to hold up the solid opaque thigh high pair of white hose that ran up each leg to just over mid thigh and was topped with a soft satin blue bow; while the white ruffled laced anklet socks with accompanying flirty pink bows it also wore embellished its black patent leather Mary Jane’s which obviously had just come out of the discarded box.



There, next to it, on the storefront floor and yet to be fitted was a precious pale blue, rear buttoned, Alice in Wonderland dress; it’s white Peter Pan collar and billowed sleeves were edged with a fine white broidery anglais; while at the hems circ-umference were the mandatory horizontal parallel bands, all of which were in the same blue.  



Also on the floor, and as yet to be fitted, was a banded white pinafore which was set off below the waist by numerous off-white ruffles.  The accompanying light white apron with mauve waist sash beside it was also edged but with a deeper pink while the white broidery anglais borders met the sash with a fine lilac satin lace stitch.  The front of the apron was further adorned by two semi-circular white appliquĂ© pockets and she thought it wonderful how it contrasted sharply with the identical pink satin lace stitching.  She mused that the pockets presented themselves with another opportunity:  they left just enough room for an additional adornment; a name.  



Without fanfare she entered and was promptly greeted by the stores owner where the matronly woman joyfully called out to her with, “Shellie, finally you’ve come back. What an unexpected surprise.  I’m so glad that you’ve come to see me again.   Please, come in it’s been a long time since you and your late
well
I’m sorry
that was dreadfully insensitive and crass of me.  Do forgive me
I apologize.”



Shellie looked at the well dressed woman and gave her a perfunctory smile, sloughing off any offense with, “Don’t get your panties in a bunch Silvia, I didn’t take it personally, it’s the truth.  Besides, if it’s all the same to you, right now I’m in the mood just to forget some things but he’s the one good part of what I remember that I need to get past.  Look, I’m rushed for time
what I want is a complete make over.”



Shellie waited a moment for her reply but cut her off before she could respond.  â€œNo, Silvia, don’t get your hopes up
it’s not for me.  What I want is a complete wardrobe for my daughter
I’ll bring her in and drop her off with you for a fitting this afternoon.  I’ll depend on you to pick out the basics, everything that she could possibly need for day or night wear for an extended period of time; of course I might want to add a thing or two but  basically, you’ve got free reign to do what you want.  



Silvia remained silent for a respectable period of time considering the offer then smiled at Shellie as she spoke.  â€œDeary, who’s kidding who, everyone knows about the trouble that you’re having with your son
hell
you of all people should know that you can’t even fart in this town without the echo being heard; the word gets around.   Everyone turns their nose up then sniffs the air a little and before you know they can tell what you’ve had for lunch or even drink. You’d be amazed at how much gossip there is that you hear just from the kids who ride the school bus every day.



“Now I’m not saying that you’re not entitled to discipline the little gremlin, no, in fact, I have several good horse paddles that will warm his butt up
but
if I remember
I even sold you a tan one not to long ago
and from what you’ve told me
David absolutely loved it
try using it again
then
if you want a complete make-over for Mark
so be it
that’s none of my business.  I’ll do it and be more than happy to take your cash as well.  But you’re not going to just drop him in my lap to try and clean up your mess and then tootle on off and leave me here with him all alone then come back and pick up what you’ve asked for.



“Oh no, my dear, any make-over, complete or not, will be under your supervision not mine.  She continued on with, “Of course, you can take your business elsewhere,” and gave a quick head jerk in the direction to that of her competitor next door.  â€œBut I don’t think that you’ll have much success over there either
like I said
it’s a small town.



“Now, if you want him as a sissy that is your decision.  He’s just at the right age now and has fine features and with such a decidedly slight build he couldn’t possibly weigh more than
what
one hundred pounds soaking wet?  She didn’t allow Shellie to interrupt as she continued.  â€œHe couldn’t be more than 5’4’’ with about a 24 to 26 inch waist line which would put him in a size 5 panty.  Dress size I would imagine between a 6 or 7 and any which I would supply would by necessity be exemplary and most feminine.  Shoes wouldn’t be a problem, nor would the various accessory items.



“Of course, his posture is reprehensible and would require immediate attention
which means that he would have to be fitted; after all, I have a vested interest if not a reputation to maintain, I guarantee that any corset that leaves my establishment will fit; though I must confess
I did notice your extended interest in “Alicia” as you looked in on her.  Now, since you claim that your time is short you can decide
you can either walk out of here with nothing or you can return after your business is concluded at the end of the day; either alternative will be acceptable.



“Of course you can always go home alone and drink yourself under the table; it’s no secret that that’s what you’ve been doing.  Cathy Black comes in quite a bit
but still speaks highly of you.   I might add that from I hear, and I do hear quite a bit, is that, for some reason Marks developed quite a relationship with Stacey; but you wouldn’t know that would you.  Of course not, you and the bottle have had quite a time together and now that the shit has hit the fan again you’re turning yourself inside out. Shellie my dear, what you want me to do, you should have done some time ago; but consider, that this may be easier to accomplish if Stacey were involved as well as Kellie; seeing that she’s been the butt of his scatological pranks.



Silvia knew what would happen; after all, she had not only introduced Shellie to David Porter but had also enthusiastically assisted in his “make-over.”  Silvia would of course go more than the extra mile out of her way for Shellie, she was her niece.


teddi

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« Reply #16 on: March 30, 2010, 09:49:22 AM »
And as such, Silvia’s affinity for Shellie could have been boundless; she could have and would have overtly done more for her; instead she opted for a less obvious, if not more subtle avenue of approach; predicated upon that disturbing lone item, of which she so strongly disapproved; that her niece had let a bottle get the best of her. True, Silvia had often acknowledged the fact, that, at times, everyone had a right to get shitfaced; but on the other hand, if there was one thing Silvia Mangiano couldn’t abide it was a perpetual self-pitying lush; especially one with kids who felt too sorry to do anything for herself.  It was worse because they were related.   

Silvia was of a mind that Shellie needed to be taught a lesson and to do so, regardless of the participants, she would learn the hard way.  However, Silvia had judiciously considered the circ-umstances and could’ve partially sugar coated the issue; glossed it over, excusing her niece’s newfound bent to drink, but being the woman she was, she didn’t.

Moreover, Silvia was the shrewd one of the family if not a plotter and a schemer.  She knew what Shellie wanted from her before she'd even walked through the door and Silvia would be more than willing to participate in it; after all with a certain amount of help, she had planted the seed of discontent.  Moreover, it wasn’t in Silvia’s nature to accept her niece’s continued failings without making a point; that if you found yourself in a hole, especially one not of your own making, for Pete’s sake, show some initiative and grab the nearest shovel and start to dig yourself out of it! 

To Shellie the intervening silence was ponderous as she again felt like the little girl who on many an occasion had to stand in front of her aunt hearing the lectures she’d heard time and again before.  Her perfunctory smile at her aunt’s forthrightness did little to sway the woman.  The tacit understanding that had always struck her was that, Silvia, who had always been “kind” to her, and who, more often than not, had always gone out of her way to help her with whatever problem that might come her way would not only throw down the gauntlet on the spur of the moment, but also pick it up and in that next instant, smack her back across the face with it; and that was just to get her attention.  She mused that Aunt Silvia was always protective of her family but had an innate penchant for self-reliance based upon tough love.

Through the calm, Shellie again pondered the obvious, the fact, that again, Aunt Silvia was right; that even her newest best friend, the bottle, had let her down.   And secondly, that it was a hellu’va lot easier to hit the sauce than face the awful truth; that she’d let herself be screwed;  believing that someone, who was just as special as her late husband, was actually going to show up in her hour of need and be there for her.  She had thrown caution to the wind believing that the white knight that had then entered her life to “save her” instead turned out to be nothing but a blaggard.  She just wished she had him alone, just once; lord would she make him pay.

But now, Shellie had to stand there, swallow her pride, and say, “Aunt S, you haven’t changed a bit.  You still know how to get under my skin.  But, you’re right; I should’ve nipped this in the bud.  But just for the record I quit drinking this morning.  Hell, obviously you’re aware that Marks been nothing short than a royal pain in the as$ for some time now.  And as for Stacey and him, you’re probably right about that too.  I’ve had my head up my butt for some time
besides from what I found out just a little while ago
what he’s into with her will make this fairly simple.  So
”  She never finished her thought
Silvia was in control.

“So
it’s agreed, you’re coming back this afternoon with him
of course you are
but once you enter with him it will be conditional.” The raven haired matron made certain to wag a first finger in Shellie’s face, but inches from her nose, as she continued, “Tut, tut, tut
I want it understood that this was your idea.  I don’t want any hurt feelings on his part with my much needed participation in this.  Naturally, deep down inside I can hardly wait to fit the little scamp but then again, if you went to my competition next door, I’m certain that they’d simply fall all heads and heels over themselves to do the same. 

“In fact, I’m damn certain that they’d be up to the task and that before the week was up that he’d be the newfound darling of the town in more ways than one.  He might even wind up in the monthly glazing contest at next Saturday’s open air market.  There’s still an opening for a volunteer at the “Toss and Cream’em” booth. 

“A new and upturned face whose cute mouth is propped open just waiting for a contribution would certainly be an attraction.  At fifty cents a shot most of the hard and straight shooters of all ages can’t help but go back for more.  Besides, where else can a mother drop her darling boys off and make certain that they’d still be there waiting for her, hours in line, and not getting into trouble?  Think about it. They’re safe and sound, fully satisfied and in one spot where she doesn’t have to go looking for them.   Each with a pocket rocket, and a legal place to hock it, along with a fist full of dollars goes a long way; especially to the ever horny males of all ages.  Did you know that some of ‘em are waiting in line thirty minutes before it opens and for forty-five minutes after it closes?   

“No, you wouldn’t know that would you.  You’ve been so busy subsidizing Grant’s Liquors that you’ve missed out on a lot my dear.  It’s been quite a draw for the past few months; the word gets around; especially to all of the out of town’ers. 

“However, I do have a question that I want you to answer
and Shellie dear
you will tell me the truth.  Oh please don’t look so surprised.  Yes, of course you will, after all, you could never lie to me with a straight face.  You’ve always been such a dead give away when it comes to fabricating even the smallest of white lies; unfortunately, that my dear, you have yet to master and is why you are so easily read.  How sad.  Apparently it appears, that now, even your eldest, can do the same.   It’s no small wonder that you still think that you can just walk right in here and pull the wool over my eyes.” 

Embarrassed and red-faced Shellie’s smile quickly turned into the grimace of a scolded child being dressed down for reaching into a storefront cookie jar and being caught; again.  At least this time she didn’t have to hold her hand straight out palm up and have it repeatedly slapped down with a wooden ruler five times for every cookie she’d swiped.   But now, as always when she was confronted by Silvia, Shellie’s right hand had found its way behind her, to rest firmly against the small of her back; where it started to sweat.  Mindfully she remembered the blisters which had been so instantly raised.  Yes she thought, Aunt Silvia knew how to make an impression.   That was one of the reasons that Shellie was here; she wanted nothing but the best.  Of course, Aunt Silvia wanted nothing but the best for her as well.

In a decidedly gentler tone of voice, Silvia Mangiano smiled while nodding to the hand that Shellie had now withdrawn from sight and said, “I see you still remember my lesson.  Just remember dear, if you lie to me again the thirty five strokes you received on your dainty palm not so long ago will be nothing compared to the hell I will put you through.  Now, answer me this," purposely lingering on two items, "This, “make-over,” this “transformation,” how long?”

“How long what Aunt Silvia?”” came Shellie’s nonchalant reply.  “How long do you have to do it?  How long do I have to stay here with him when you do, what?” 

Silvia Mangiano was not pleased with her niece’s dismissive reply.  “Don’t you dare be so dense or flippant with me young lady.  You came in to change someone out.  The question is simply put, for how long will this person remain changed?  Most certainly not for a day; that wouldn’t be worth the trouble.  Nor would I imagine for a week; hardly enough time to make a lasting impression; much too short.  No
the question is straightforward
for how long; weeks, months, years, forever?  WELL?  You have considered this aspect haven’t you?”

No, Shellie hadn’t considered the duration of punishment.  Before she entered all she wanted was to strip Mark of his gross maleness; not only to teach him a lesson but to humiliate him the way he had his sister.   In all honesty, she hadn’t a clue of how long she wanted both his punishment and make-over to last.  It would be easy to say something arbitrary but Aunt Silvia had always scolded her that, “The punishment should fit the crime, yet exponentially it must be capable of imparting a lasting lesson while in the same instance not becoming in itself excessive.  The chastisement must be remembered to be effective yet it must offer a certain forbidden enticement when utilized.  In short my dear, you want your little darling to actually look forward to doing something naughty in hope of reprimand but also to fear it as well; how else would you perfect the transformation."  Silvia prompted her once more, "So the question is simply put, how long?”

Before Shellie could reply, Silvia did.  “No.  Don’t tell me. I can seek it in your face you haven’t a clue.  You just waltzed right in here and thought what, exactly?  That I’d take over and do your job?  No my dear you still haven’t learned that the penalty must fit the offense.

“If I remember, my “rule” of thumb, especially in your case, was either to the palm of your hand or curvaceous bottom, was five fold for every transgression.  So, let’s start there
I would suggest that what was good for the goose is now good for the little gander.  Capisca?

teddi

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« Reply #17 on: April 23, 2010, 10:24:02 AM »
Capisco perfettamente il auntie (I understand perfectly auntie).  My apologies, of course, you’re right, in my haste I hadn’t fully considered that aspect so
a firm twenty weeks would appear to be a starting point given your considered standard for measurement; obviously, your aware that the past four weeks haven’t been all that pleasant.



Silvia didn’t smile instead she scoffed at her niece’s sophomoric reply with, “As always, you try my patience.  We both know that your time line is specious; especially since your eldest has for the better part of six weeks tried without success to get your goat.  I told you that in a small town the word gets around and as for your giving up the bottle this morning that’s a veritable load of manure; because as we stand right here your breathe still reeks of it.  Try taking some mints, strong ones; if you walk into another store or go to work, with your breath you’ll knock’em over.  How you’ve managed to keep your job is beyond me.



“Now, as it’s my “considered standard” that you so self-servingly reminded me of, I would suggest that what was good for the goose is now good for the little gander:  thirty weeks as a starting point.  The fifteen weeks remaining in the school year and those with summer vacation should more than drive home the point.  We’ll go from there and see what happens after that who knows what fall will bring.



“However my dear, those thirty weeks are conditional; not on his part but yours.  Because, if in that period of time I find out that you have hit the sauce again, even one little sip of it; what I would do to you is better left unsaid; but of course, that never stopped me so
listen.  The first thing I will do is to make it a point to undo everything that we began and move to relieve you of the burden you have to this point seemed incapable of dealing with yourself:  your children.  In short, I will move to have both of them placed in my custody and under my protection.   I have already “spoken” with the Department of Families.  All that remains of the paperwork for submission and summary execution of the order to the Department is my notarized signature.  



“Secondly, I have it on good authority that you could find yourself in further jeopardy; cut off from further funds.  In essence my dear, you’re very close to being shitcanned.  



"So when you go back to your office today or that little duplex tonight
remember that four walls do a prison make
especially for everyone that is either working or living with you right now.  But as for you my dear
not that you would immediately find yourself in the slammer, but human nature, being what it is, you’d just might manage to avoid it; and instead just drink yourself to death or maybe even wind up in the midst of a glorious trance in some little crack-shack being ramrodded to eternity by a total stranger.  Yes, I can just imagine all of that, can’t you?”



Of course she did, and often, but Silvia was on a roll and from experience it was best to let her run her mouth.  Besides, Shellie being as fragile at the moment as she had ever been in her life could only stand there and take what she had coming and whatever else Aunt S. was going to hit her with.  All Shellie could do was to look down at her shaking feet, well, actually her nervous and twitching toes, and note that they were badly in need of polishing.  Aunt Silvia was right; she was drowning and was taking her kids down with her.  She deserved the rebuke.



“Don’t you feel sorry for yourself, standing here like this?  I expected more from you.   Now, what’ve you to say for yourself?”



Shellie would’ve said plenty if she hadn’t started to cry.  Silvia was nonplussed as, for the most; she wasn’t prone to be moved by the tears of someone who verbally needed have her butt kicked for being a lush.  Silvia abruptly turned away and proceeded to lock the storefront door then hung a “Temporarily Closed” sign on it.  She made certain to note on its face that it would only be for a brief fifteen minutes; of the fifteen, Shellie’s boo-hooing would continue for five.



Somewhere in those five minutes, it was Silvia who offered her niece a box of tissues while at the same time gently guiding her shaking younger relative to sit in what was euphuistically* labeled the “Seat of Honor:” the old country rocking chair that fronted a full length mirror and in plain view to all who would stroll along the sidewalk and peer in, ostensibly to window shop.   On it was the same eight inch high donut-hole cushioned seat that so many of Silvia’s clients had sat in before:  the first time as they once were and then as the mortified “make-over’s” they had become.  Silvia thought it was always best to see for oneself what they truly were or had become.  



Of course, that it was primarily and repetitively used on males; made it all the more special in that it was ingeniously secured beneath the mahogany colored tongue and groove oak floor with four high compression electronically activated pistons; which when switched on, had been synchronized to rock back or forth at various predetermined speed settings.  The speed of either direction had been programmed to degrees of rapidity; while, depending upon the variable setting entered the cushioned seat upon which the individual sat either inflated to its maximum of eight inches or deflated to within one inch of the moving rockers solid wooden seat.  Of course, the attached respective ankle, wrist and waist restraints used in each instance, were at this time, concealed, within their brown leather saddlery bags while the same inflatable colored cushion one would find his or herself upon was absent of any of its most adaptable, and in some instances, lengthy phallic attachments; which were graphically veined and equally suitable for the pegging of either male or female.   The lone other but significantly identical items of note were that on either arm rest just at finger tip reach were two matching door buzzers which were concealed beneath a pink satin wrap.  All one had to do to stop the ride was to press either button.



Silvia always thought it was best to get the most out of any make-over as the initial psychological impact upon the hapless individual was the most telling aspect of the entire process.  Her most satisfied customers were the mothers who knew what they wanted before they entered with their unruly offspring:  acceptable behavior modification and transformation; that their little hellions may well become a full time sissy “in the end” was so much the better.  As for their husbands whether they liked what was to happen or not, by the time it had reached this point it was out of their hands and were for the most part themselves appreciative of what was to be.



In the long run, they, their wives or their daughters would suffer no more back talk, sassing, cursing, teasing or the like as over time each sissy would learn when the best available moment was to open his mouth; until then it was always open but stuffed with a malleable pacifier, resembling that of a male member, which was locked in place; to which only relatives or school staff had master key access.  It even afforded the individual to sip water or milk through a straw as it also had a hole through which fluids of various textures could and did pass.  The humiliation, especially in school, was exquisite.   Object lessons were just that and now very few sought to test the authorities which in essence sought to control their behavior.



There’d be no more fighting, no stealing and no more slovenly dressed boys with pants dragging on the ground or gross eating habits at the table.  Of course the additional benefits of controlling the television and what was viewed had to be considered.  If it was only the mother or sister involved then the cooking channel and other such “women’s” fĂȘte’s as the daily soap operas would be watched instead of football, hockey, monster machines or the various sports channels and the like.  



 And then there were the additional cost benefits that could be found in the hand me down clothes of a sister to sissy and the knowledge of who actually ruled the roost in the family.   In the inevitable event that a larger size was needed either she or her competitor was more than happy to assist; as either carried a large supply of previously owned, skirts, blouses and sweaters, etc.  Moreover, the common brands in newest of girl’s clothes and lingerie were likewise available and stocked to those who desired to avail themselves.  All else could be ordered individually or on line.



Of course, initially, the first time each male sat in the seat of honor it was with an inevitable snicker or glare if not outright hostility but that had been overcome quite simply; because, after the first of several such incidents, Silvia, realized, that a non-aromatic liquid formula, undetectable to taste, if only added into one’s drink at home, would, in a short period of time, make even the most unruly of males, docile if not for the moment, happily soporific.  It made positioning them on the seat quite simple.



Moreover, that particular additive was specifically sanctioned back in 2012 by the newly established Federal Department of Behavior Modification and Social Rationalization; and she, by being FDBM&SR’s duly appointed facilitator for Region III, not only gave her great latitude for its use but also the ability to dispense it with cause:  either via court or FDBM&SR’s summary order.  



 That many availed themselves of her service voluntarily was also common knowledge as it only took but a simple inquiry to start the wheels of behavior modification rolling as the mere threat itself was imposing.  



From experience, to spur the process, she would provide the ingredients the day prior to the recalcitrant individual’s first scheduled visitation for ingestion; thus leaving her the knowledge that when they (the parental units or guardians and the afore mentioned  malcontent) entered her establishment together the next day, that it was with one agreed upon purpose in mind.



 In some instances, especially those ordered by the newly established Federal Behavior Modification Court (now found in all fifty-seven states) the most obstinate personage’s were accompanied by members of the no nonsense Protection of Societal Behavior and Modification Enforcement Division Police who left little doubt as to what would occur.



When the PSB&MEDP mobile made its appearance the word would get around and the gawkers that would vie for position would often bet via the wall mounted keypad:  not on who was to be led out of it by the scruff of the neck (for that was common knowledge) but of how long that person would ride the rocker; which was never predetermined but instead a factor of just how long it took to accept the inevitable.  The inevitable was that moment of consent when either button was pressed; upon which the rocker would cease its motion and the first ten with the closest winning times would be allowed to enter and the surprises tenting their pants were presented for immediate service.



But that was only when the PSB&MEDP’s were present; all other participants were subject to an electronically determined luck of the draw; which in most cases never exceeding the stiff maximum of five.  Of course there was the posted weekly schedule to consider upon which all appointments were listed as many had their own personal favorites.  However, Silvia also provided a daily update which she always posted the previous evening just prior to closing.  Scratches or new entries were provided as an additional benefit provided for by the mandated FDBM&RS information service.



After Shellie set her self down, out of courtesy for her niece, she pulled the vertical fabric blinds behind the storefront windows and door closed and waited for her nieces reply which would most certainly to Silvia be worth waiting for; besides, her next scheduled visit for use of the chair wasn’t until 1:30 P. M. that afternoon and it was only 8:30 in the morning.  Silvia had expected an outburst from her niece but things’ being what they were was surprised when Shellie sobbed a long and heretofore unspoken failsafe phrase, “Zia, elemosino e supplico che non lo umiliereste come che cosa direi Ăš per i vostri orecchi soltanto
 (Aunt, I beg and plead that you would not humiliate me as what I would say is for your ears only
) that as a child, she had never used when being disciplined, even when in public, by her stern aunt.



Silvia M. understood the implication, that even the walls had ears and was immediately predisposed to her nieces request; that what was to be said must be under other, more controlled circ-umstances; those secured from the intrusion of others.  If there were reasons for Shellie’s sudden and out of character utterance Silvia wanted to know them all.  Her cynical eye towards her niece gave way to familial compassion when she gently inquired, “Se non ora, quando? (If not now, when)?”



Shellie Porters inquisitive response was a tentative if not pleading, “Zia Silvia, il mio ufficio a 11:30 A.M? (Aunt Silvia, my office at 11:30 A.M?)”



Without hesitation Silvia acknowledged the request with a kiss to her nieces cheek and then whispered in her ear, “Penso conoscere tutto (I expect to know everything
)” and then concluded with, “
 oppure (or else.)”



With a return kiss to Silvia’s lips Shellie returned her aunts kiss and murmured her almost inaudible reply, “I miei ringraziamenti (My thanks).” She got up, walked out the door and got in her car, slammed it into reverse, backed out, shifted to 1st and sped off to work.



From start to finish, the trip to her office at F.E.M.M. lasted all of ten minutes during which she tried to compose herself.  However, upon pulling into the reserved parking space with her name on it she jumped the curb with both front wheels then immediately slammed the gear shift into reverse and backed it off while silently cursing herself.  This wasn’t going to be a fun day; in fact, she had the distinct impression that if anything else was going to happen that she might very well find herself having been thrown under the wheels of a bus.



She made certain to grab her handbag and pulled the keys from the ignition and then to electronically lock the car’s doors.   In her infuriated five minute walk to her office she acknowledged no one and made it a point not to say a word; regardless of who spoke to her; even if cordially.   It was almost 9 and she intended to make the most of her time before her meeting with the Constable whom she also began to curse out in her mind.  She was not only enraged that her aunt would threaten her but was also now growing increasingly annoyed that her staff had been working on her pet project without her for some time.  No, that wasn’t it. Not really.  It was the fact that Linda Gentry was, had for some reason, been engaged in the research directly applicable to her project; without her authorization.  Mentally she pictured Kathy Blacks’ face skew, as if smelling a fart, when she had mentioned that aspect of her activities.



Something stunk to high heaven and she was going to find out what it was.  So as she entered her office, she didn’t waste a second and unceremoniously threw her handbag onto the trash littered settee up against the wall; it was followed by her set of car keys which she still held in her right hand.  When they hit the back cushion a red spot appeared where the keys had struck and another where they finally landed on the floor.  A quick look to her hand confirmed the obvious; she’d pressed them too tight and had drawn blood.  She knew better than to say a word, instead she thought to herself  â€œWhat a crock of 
” and that’s when her phone rang.  



The last thing she wanted to do was to talk to anyone on the phone; not now as most certainly whomever it was that was calling her would wind up with an earful.  But she was back in charge and if she didn’t answer... well
if this wasn’t going to be a good day for her why should it be for anyone else?  She thought about that and the bottle of Jim Beam she had stashed in her desk drawer and almost, just almost went for it instead of the phone.  



Shellie didn’t know it but the first good move that she’d make would be what she did next when she answered the phone with, “Shellie Porter speaking,” instead of opening the drawer.  She recognized the voice when he replied, “Ms. Porter, Constable Binder here.  It’s imperative that I speak to you immediately.  If you please, I’m on my way to F.E.M.M
.. I need to see you, but meet me outside in five minutes


__________________

*euphuistically...any stylish affectation in speech or writing especially made in reference to a device or expression there of.

teddi

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« Reply #18 on: May 20, 2010, 12:00:07 PM »
Shellie was going to argue the obvious and started with, “What? Why? I thought that we’d already
.” but never got to finish her sentence; instead Binder’s commanding no nonsense baritone voice cut her off in mid-sentence with, “Please, no questions, listen.  Outside in five minutes
walk to my cruiser
then get in
understand?”  Of course she did, almost decided to hang up on him, but didn’t; thought for a moment about smart mouthing him
but didn’t; almost started to cry; but didn’t do that either.  Instead she uttered a well reasoned one word reply of “Yea,” then hung the phone up.



She made a point of immediately grabbing her white purse and in one motion slung it over her left shoulder and then snatched her keys with the right, while taking time to mutely curse them out for their previous transgression; then began her more than brisk walk back to the main entry of the building.  Again she ignored all along the way.  No not really. She made it a point of silently cursing out everything she saw along the way; everything and everyone.



 Minutes later, the main entry loomed ahead and she paused to consider, “Should I actually go outside and meet this guy?” The silent reply she answered herself with was, “Sure, what the hell, what’ve I got left to lose?”  She again answered the obvious with, “Not much.” Almost immediately she corrected herself with, “No, I do, my kids.”  She resumed her march, then, as if by design, the double entry doors she exited automatically opened just as Binder’s cruiser happened to pull up and stop in the lane with a noticeable lurch; a force of habit by one who was driven by need if not desire.



Inside the cruiser, Binder closely watched Shellie Porter walk the fifteen steps to his car and look in; mentally he noted that in person she was undeniably a striking woman.  To him, that was a reasonable act.  If it were him getting into some car he’d sure as hell’d want to see who the driver was himself; he gave her an impatient nod of acknowledgement; as if to say “Yes it’s me now get the hell in.” Shellie caught the look and the unspoken implication.



Without a word she opened the front door, sat her butt down on the front seat, deftly swung her legs in and then slammed the door shut while looking straight ahead.  Binder would’ve smiled at her but didn’t, and instead of a cordial greeting said only one word, “Seatbelt
”  Of course, there was a stipulated rider to the word which he thought but never uttered, “
bitch.”  He didn’t have to; Shellie’s upper lip belied her understanding of it as she sneered at his command, but none-the-less complied; after all, it was his car.  She reasoned, what was he supposed to do, give himself a ticket for letting her ride without buckling up?  Her mental rejoinder screamed back at her, “Sure why not he’s just a prick!”



Initially, Binder would’ve loved the small talk that would’ve preceded any encounter; the verbal fencing between the hunter and the hunted, if not the dupe, was always enjoyable.  Under normal circ-umstances, the initial tĂȘte-Ă -tĂȘte made the end result that much sweeter but
but
here he reasoned
he didn’t have the time for all the niceties.   No, there be no chit chat over coffee or tea, or a fine how do you do or the drawn out and prolonged offerings of timely and well placed commiserations to obtain the obvious information that he required.  No there’d be none of that; too bad; he’d miss the romancing.  Instead he did what his gut told him to do, just watch her buckle up; then drive and let “her” have the first word.  He smiled when she said it; “Bitch!” then continued on with, “You have a way with words
even if you don’t say them.”  In retort, Larry floored the gas pedal moving the cruiser out from the shadows of the portico.



“Force of habit,” came the unapologetic reply.  He looked straight ahead and drove, “But you’re right, I don’t like mincing words, especially if I have to clean up someone else’s mess like I’m doing now, especially with someone like you.”  Shellie turned her head to look at the profile of his face while at that same moment her eyes shot poison daggers at him.  To the trained individual, peripheral vision is a great thing.



With a quick glance back at her, Larry returned the compliment with, “Cute, I bet you do that to all the little boys you meet,” and then watched her mouth fall open as her jaw dropped in astonishment.  He didn’t mind what he was about to do, he wanted answers and he wanted them as fast as he could get them so he did what came naturally, after all, he thought, “I might as well play the part she thinks I am, then we’ll see.”   Truth be known, and it wasn’t, he was only as big a prick as the situation demanded; unfortunately for others, most often it was a most demanding job.



He pressed the moment along with the accelerator, continuing with, “Over the phone I let you know that I don’t like being toyed with or being played for a fool so,” he lingered just a moment then went on with, “you think I’m a son-of-bitch or some type of major prick.  That’s cool with me because I think you’re a fem-bitch who’s found out that she’s in a deep pile of crap and that’s she’s now in way over her head!”   A quick glance and he watched her face twitch, knowing he was right; pressed on.  â€œListen, and listen carefully, Ms. Porter, for right now, my car and my office are the only places, that are safe to speak, each is dampened; which means its safe to talk, other than that, there’s nowhere else in this town that I’d trust to have a conversation.  Not a park, not a store, not an office not a home.  Furthermore, in this town I don’t trust anyone; except my deputy and you’ve already pissed her off.”  The unspoken implication was also that he didn’t trust her either.  He let that sink in for a moment and continued.



“Over the phone, you didn’t have to ask because I already knew
so there’ll be a team of cleaners arriving shortly; I reckon
” he paused for a moment and smiled into the windshield ahead
 “In no more than two minutes from now.  I needed to get you out of your office without you opening your big mouth again.  They’ll sweep everything at F.E.M.M
.starting with your office.  Odds are that it is bugged to hell. (He purposely failed to mention that they’d be leaving a little something or two behind of the agency; just in case whoever it was decided to make a return trip to find out what had happened to their own surveillance devices.)   He didn’t miss a beat and went on with, “In fact I wouldn’t be surprised that your packing either,” he nodded at her purse then gave her a quick once over from head to toe. He shouldn’t have but he most definitely liked what he saw.  But, to him her sudden and now tight lipped shallow breathing was a give away, she didn’t like it.  Not his once over all encompassing glance but the sudden realization that she might actually be a mule had caused her face, arms and hands, even down to the little twitch in her second toe, to reflexively react; with years of experience there were certain tells* he could read with no sweat and her tells were a piece of cake to read.



He took a hard left onto the two lane road without signaling, quickly accelerated to 70 mph, and then waited for any type of reply that might be forthcoming; which in reality wasn’t all that long.  â€œO.K. so you think I’m a bitch; your right and I think you’re a prick.  There. Now that we’ve been properly introduced tell me what in the hell is going on?”



“Ms. Porter, I was hoping that you’d tell me what “IS” going on and why the hell I’m here investigating a double homicide over some half-ass case of commercial or industrial espionage?  No, that ain’t right
for some off the wall reason the Agency is interested in this and sent me out here.  There I was enjoying myself; semi-retired and except for some half-ass paperwork that was still in the pipeline, I was completely out of it all.  Then I get the call and pressed back into contracted service.  So to put it mildly, I ain’t happy about being here and I sure as hell ain’t happy sitting across from you right now.  So, I’ve got a full tank of gas and we’re going for a little ride; someplace out of town where we won’t be bothered; not that we’ll step foot outside of this car, we’ll just park for a while and see what happens.”



Shellie’s sarcastic, “You’re taking me out for a ride? How sweet.  But I should warn you I was never one to park and give out; anything,” didn’t make an impression on Binder.



“Don’t flatter yourself,” came the caustic rebut.  What I want is relevant information applicable to the case; all of it.  You either co-operate and make nice-nice or I’ll drag your ass out and let you walk the fifteen odd miles back to F.E.M.M.  In case you haven’t noticed, it’ll be raining when you do.”  Larry noted Shellie’s eyes dart towards the approaching storm front and noted that she licked her lips.  He made a mental note:  autonomic response to wet lips when confronted with distasteful choices.  He knew he had her and drove the remaining eight miles in the comparative silence of the cruiser.  One mile before his estimated arrival point the heavens opened.



One minute later, without notice, he pulled hard left on the steering wheel bringing the cruiser abruptly about 180 degrees and facing the opposite direction he had just driven from and waited; if he’d been followed he wanted to see them coming.  He released the lock on his console mounted M-4 and waited.  The skid marks he’d made were as clear as the obvious astonishment on Shellie Porter’s face.  



“Impressive,” she quipped and then went on with, “Let me guess, you’re waiting for two things:  for me to talk and for trouble.”



“Right on both counts; but the question really is which is gonna happen first.  So are you gonna sit here and talk to me or do I have to follow your wet butt back down this road to town while you walk back; either way it’s no skin off my nose.  What’ll it be?”



“Constable,” came the syrupy reply, “do you always get what you want?”  



“Obviously not, I’m here.”



“Alright you’re here, I’m here
and honestly I don’t want to walk back
you wouldn’t really make me do that would you?”



Larry took a quick look at Shellie’s face, shook his head as if to say “stupid bitch” and went back to looking straight ahead while nonchalantly moving his left hand to increase the tempo of the windshield wipers; if anyone was coming he didn’t want to be blind sided.  



Shellie Porter answered her own question out loud.  â€œYou bastard, I believe you would.”



“Believe what you want.  I’m here for answers and one way or another I’m gonna get ‘em.  You’ve got all of one minute to open your mouth and tell me what in the hell is going on or your gonna get seriously wet; and once you do, don’t even think about getting back in.  Time starts, now.



Shellie thought about the obvious, but right now bravado be damned.  The little voice in the back of her head screamed at her “Talk you fool,” while the other goaded her to persist with, “He’s only bluffing.  He’d never
”  The second voice lost when Shellie replied, “You win.”  



It was strange for her to utter those words; especially so because she thought that the cruiser’s roof had somehow sprung a leak and had allowed the pounding rain to enter.   Mentally she noted that the small of her back was wet but also that that wonderful spot between her legs was soaked.  



She tried to shrug it off but knew she couldn’t.  She reasoned that best thing to do right now was to tell Binder what he wanted.  Grudgingly she admitted that after all, he really wasn’t the enemy within and that if he could help; o.k. have at it.  Realizing that her face had now flushed she turned away unable to face the man in the seat opposite her.  What she didn’t realize was that her reflection in the passenger side window told what she desired to hide most; this guy had turned her on.



Her faltering beginning of “Where, where do you want me
me
to begin?,” was met with “Where ever you feel the most comfortable.  For the record, I need to record everything.  By the way, if I tell you to get down
don’t hesitate
the windows are, to some degree, bullet proof and the side walls are armored; but only lightly.”  



“You don’t really expect that
”



“Ms. Porter, I expect that anything that can happen could happen; it’s my job.  So please, enlighten me.”



“Constable,” she began, “If I were to tell you that I could improve your interrogation techniques to such a degree that any and all information given would be absolutely indisputable what would you say.”



Incredulously he offered a forthright reply of, “You? I’d say go for it.”



 â€œMoreover,” she continued while still looking away, “With what I have been working on that inherent behavior modification would be a one hundred percent certainty and that all results would be derived from a technique here-to-fore unimaginable.”



Larry at first said nothing and stole a quick glance up the road; nothing approached.  â€œI’m listening, go on,” was all he said as he kept his eyes peeled for trouble.  



“The point I’m trying to make is that, I have an interest in diapers.”  As soon as she said that she knew she’d misspoke; especially with the muffled snicker she’d heard from Binder.  She corrected herself, “Let me rephrase that.  My job in research and development is in the area of consumer products applicable to the containment of bodily functions.  In short, the search for a technologically better product; this happens to be called a diaper.  Of course, most diapers are simply that.  They’re put in place, used and then replaced and for the most part all too often.”



Larry couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the banal explanation but remained silent.  Out of the corner of his right eye he noted that Shellie Porter had now turned to look straight at him; while he instead remained focused on the road ahead; which was still void of any oncoming traffic.



For her part, Shellie tried to tell whether what she had said was making any sense to the man who wouldn’t give her the slightest inkling of whether what she’d said had made any sense at all.  In her own mind her beginning explanation appeared trite and was nothing more than a statement of the obvious.  She proceeded to offer more which might cue a response.



“Of course,” she went on, “There are any numbers of manufactures who produce this item in one form or another but for the sake of clarity I’ll simply label all as “generic.”  Excepting color, fastening tabs and fluid capacity they are simply common place and merit no further consideration.  What I,” she caught herself immediately and amended her thought in mid-sentence, “What we at F.E.M.M. have developed is a cutting edge technological product; a breakthrough which has implications beyond the generic.  In essence it would immediately render each manufactures product as obsolete; if only on the functional level.  You see, the F.E.M.M. product is both thought conscious and pending programming can be worn for extended periods of time; which is itself, predicated upon behavior.  Moreover it is hermetically organic.”  



She paused to see what, if any response her car mate might reveal.  The first sign of interest to what she had to say, even for her, wasn’t hard to read, Larry’s head turned to look at her face, just for a moment, gave her a knowing smile, then went back to looking straight ahead.  

______________________

*tells-the give away signs that are observed in a game of chance by an opposing player who seeks an advantage by “reading” his opponents body language.

teddi

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« Reply #19 on: June 19, 2010, 02:19:01 PM »
Without taking his eyes off the rain drenched road, he half muttered the obvious implications to both himself and Shellie, “Hermetically organic, thought conscious and worn for periods of time predicated upon behavior; does mean what I think it does?” came the incredulous reply which continued on with, “You’re telling me that
what
you’ve got something that can be literally worn which can determine if some son-of-bitch is lying and modifying their behavior at the same time simply based upon the answers given?  You’ve got a fricken diaper that can do that?



Shellie smiled at Binders insight remarking, “It doesn’t take you long to cut to the heart of the matter does it?  But to answer your question yes, but along with something else, it does all that and more, a lot more.  It’s foolproof.”



Larry shot back, “That’s a crock full, ain’t no such thing as foolproof.  Never has been.  Try me again.”  



Shellie couldn’t resist the opportunity for her repartee, “Why Constable, I haven’t tried you at all
but I might consider it,” she lingered the thought for the moment,  wondered if he had measured the double-entendre, then demurely smiled and continued on with, “If you’re willing that is
I could arrange a
personal
demonstration?  Perhaps you would consent
after all
I’m told that men such as yourself have willingly undergone extensive training in resisting various techniques of interrogation; so that if captured to harden themselves to the very same techniques.  After all, we both know that some interrogators have forced detainees to wear diapers; for extended periods of time.  Moreover, that even NASA has had its astronauts wear diapers; especially prior to liftoff, if not re-entry.  I’m told that even those in endurance racing wear them at times.”



“Ms. Porter, first off, the only thing you’re trying is my patience.  If you’re gonna shovel a load of crap be sure you’ve got some place to unload it.  I catch your drift and there’s no way in hell that I’d let you put a diaper on me and if you think I’m gonna go macho to suc-k-up to you by even trying one on; you’re outta your mind.   But the answer is yes; I’d like a demonstration after you tell me exactly what this new diaper of yours can or can’t do
besides
I didn’t miss the “pending programming” part of your fishing expedition.  That takes in a whole lot of territory and probably means that it’s still some how major league fubar.”



Of course Shellie lied straight off with, “Constable, I never thought about you in a diaper, besides
”



“Lady, cut the crap 
.if you’re gonna talk to me you need to understand; never bullshit a bullshitter.  Now, in plain language, so even a man like me can understand, what in the hell does it do and how?  



Shellie was beginning to grasp the obvious; Binder was of a singular purpose and would not be swayed into a dalliance, however trivial, which might divert his attention to the matter before him.  She liked that unique quality in a man but also the fact that he was a challenge; to which she thought she would now set herself.  Thoughtfully she reasoned that if the only way to get his attention was to be straightforward, then what hell, she might as well go for broke; she was close to that end of the spectrum anyway.  Rhetorically, she considered the palpable, “What difference would it make now; I’ve already lost my husband and maybe my kids if I can’t keep off the sauce.  The mystery of it is why in the hell am I attracted to him at all; especially now?



“Constable,” she began, “I
well
understand
please
what I can tell you in layman’s terms, is limited.”



Larry’s sharp reply of, “Lady, the things that are limited is my time and patience.  With you, both are running out.  Whatever you tell me is going to be recorded, what I don’t understand, I’ll find out about, one way or another, so, why don’t you do yourself a favor before you find yourself strutting your stuff in the rain; just talk to me, O.K?”



Shellie’s dour face to his quick put down was just a precursor to her reflexive barb, “Fine, to start with, in layman’s terms, do you walk on water too or just piss in it?”



His reply was just as forthright, “Honestly, never thought about trying to walk on it, probably wouldn’t get that far; so that means you’re ready to take a hike?”



“You’re a bastard.”



“So I’ve been told.  Couldn’t help it; birth defect and you’re a real piece of work yourself.  But I thought we’d already introduced ourselves; now tell me something I don’t know; your time’s about up.”



“Fine, I’ll try and make this simple,” she left out the “just for you” part.   She needn’t have bothered; he understood her omission perfectly and just smiled.  He was used to being insulted but not by the one he was charged to help.   Silently he thought her half-a-loaf short; after all, it wasn’t like he was trying to get in her pants but that’s the way he felt that she was acting towards him.   Inwardly he thought her a strange woman who didn’t care who the hell she offended; sort of like him.  Somehow he liked that.



She continued on with, “As I said, at F.E.M.M. we have developed a unique product; one which is more absorbent and capable of hermetically sealing itself to the individual.  Moreover, it is incapable of being removed without significant traumatic damage to the individual who is wearing it.”  She looked at him for a reply to which he sarcastically stated, “I’m simply listening; if you can just explain.”  



“Fine, be that way,” she snipped back.  â€œListen, I’ll start with the basics:  cloth diapers are not an option; too bulky and fluid content wise they are ineffectual.  Generic diapers are rated not only on absorbency but also as to their general wear ability.   The top ranked generic on the market will absorb close to 78 fluid ounces but will leak long before then.  Of course you could add any number of soakers but after a certain point the inevitable would still occur.  



“The new F.E.M.M. product’s ability to absorb is not only unlimited but as it’s hermetically sealed to the skin it will never leak; either fluid volume or even a portion of the mass of its solid contents.  Furthermore, there wouldn’t be any of the unpleasant odors associated with a pant full.”



“Bullshit,”came the reply, “Ain’t no such thing; besides all crap stinks.  Besides, whoever the idiot is that’s wearing it’ll soon find themselves with one hellu’va case of rash.  Infection’l set in and then where in the hell are you?  You got nothing!”  



“No, that’s not where you think you’d be.  I told you, the product is unique.  I’ll speak
slowly
just for you.  We have two working models; the first is a pull-up, except for the leg and waist bands it’s a standard Ÿ of an inch thick; it’s both programmable and slightly expandable but it isn’t the one that you’d be interested in.  The pull-up is the normal utilitarian model that’d be used by the general populace; with some modifications it could do more, but as I said, if you’re simply not into changing diapers or if a period necessitating the use of a diaper is desired which will not leak for short periods of time, say three or four days, if only for an object lesson, this would be the over-the-counter model of choice to use.   By inference it would be dispensed and signed for by a responsible party.



“The second model is mildly comparable to a conventional diaper in appearance only; it comes a standard 1 ÂŒ  inch thick and has but two closing tabs, which bond upon contact,

 from waist to leg bands, directly to the diapers face; each tab is impermeable.  Both models come in any color you’d want as long as it’s pink.   For some reason, pink, or various shades associated with it, is the most successful color, on a technological basis, that make either unit viably effective.



 â€œI’ll explain that part in a moment, but first off, within either model, we’re dealing with a radically compressed fiber that’s not the normal refined wood pulp you’d find in the generic, but a cultivated plant fiber called kelar; it’s capable of absorbing over 100 times the liquid volume of the generic with a comparable weight ratio.   Of course, when a generic diaper is used its shape begins to fall apart within the confines of the web that initially holds the pulp in place; eventually its fibers separate and then acc-umulate wherever the force of gravity takes them.  



“In fact, just within hours most generics begin to fall apart where it counts the most; even if not used.  Just the fact that they are worn, or that any type of movement occurs, will cause they to separate and literally fall apart. Ours however, maintain cohesion throughout wear; because it is a composite bonded fiber and will not expand separate nor swell more than a nominal eight percent; again pending programming.



“Our product is enhanced by the fact that the composite fiber, by design, will loose neither form nor cohesive structure as do the generic because our patented syntite threads work in concert with the compound fiber and will not allow the unit to expand; thus forcing it to maintain its integrity by not allowing deformity; regardless of either fluid or bulk content.   Basically, that would be the nuts and bolts of the normal over the counter product vs the other.  Once your in either your in it until the program runs its course; regardless.



“Now to your initial assumption, of course, after several voids spanning days anyone carrying a load of that magnitude wouldn’t walk very far and eventually the natural biodegradable process of decay would set in; so, if it were only that I would agree with your initial supposition.



“Accordingly to resolve the obvious, we’ve gone beyond the mundane and infused either models compressed fibers with various types of nanites.  The nanites are microscopic entities engendered to function within a specific contained area; the diaper itself.  Each set of nanites is programmed to be point in time specific; thus the entire unit can be gauged to cease functioning at any given future moment so desired.  Oddly, for some reason nanites are partial to color, especially pink.  



“In our newer model, the one which really might be of interest to you, each unit can also be programmed to respond to additional requests for time prolongation.  By that I mean, with an incorrect response, a lie, evasiveness, or prolonged hesitation, etc., minutes, hours, days, or weeks can be added to the unit’s inherent serviceability.  Thus leaving the wearer contemplating the obvious; the more untruthful or evasive answers, the longer the stay in the diaper; which, in each instance, to most would be a most unpleasant and almost instantaneous occurrence.  I’ll explain that part further.



“Are you following all of this?”



Binder nodded once and didn’t take his eyes off the road.  He did however note in the distance ahead the headlights of an approaching vehicle but made no mention of this to Shellie Porter.  She was on a roll and he didn’t want her to stop; for any reason.  In response to her question he merely nodded in the affirmative and muttered, “Yea.”



A dejected Shellie Porter was forthright in her reply, “I didn’t expect that you’d jump up and down over what I told you, but damn it, aren’t you the least bit intrigued?”



“I am
just have other things to think about right now as well, that’s all.”   He reached out to the dash; increased the flow of the A.C. and then allowed his arm to return to his side.  With his last motion, Shellie didn’t notice that he had deftly unlatched his Glock 18 19mm. when he said, “Please, go on.”  



Unaware of what might occur she continued to stare at his face while she began again with, “This would bring us to the next point; that long before content capacity is achieved in either; the nanites are processing the waste matter and eliminating the greater part as a plant would in the process of evapotranspiration.   In either unit, each is segmented into quadrants and within each quadrant are 600 folds.



“Within each fold the diaper contains thousands of microscopic syncaps, if you will synthetic capillaries, leading directly outward and away to the waist and leg bands; thus allowing excess fluid to be collected, broken down, converted to CO2 and then released into the atmosphere.  Upon release there is a noticeable, if not continuous pleasant scent; one of lavender.



“Moreover, each syncap is also bonded within the hermetic bands which are syntite threaded.   The syntite thread is a synthesized malleable titanium alloy, which I spoke of before.  It is unique and cannot be ripped off, torn away, nor cut away with conventional scissors or blades and the reason why is simple.  Once in place both leg and waist bands are programmed to extend their MT’s.  MT is short for microscopic-tendrils; a fine filament which burrows painlessly just beneath the mesoderm of the skins surface to monitor the autonomic system of the wearer.  In short, they are able to discern the internal changes of the wearer; especially those associated with change in heartbeat, breathing, nervous tension, perspiration, etc.   In essence, they are thought conscious once programmed to the wearer:  given an accurate baseline for comparison; truth, lies or evasion.



“During the course of development, we’ve found that by applying additional layers of syntite, in multiple cross-hatched configurations, resembling a series of truncated ribbed bands, it would enable not only the dissipation required to maintain constant fluid equilibrium but also to dispense the heat generated by the bacteriological process incurred during decay.  To anyone looking at either unit it would look like the ruffles found on rumba panties except that they are not frivolous but intrinsically necessary for the viability of the unit.    



“Aside from that feature, the desiccation process which ensues continually eliminates the worry of exceeding the desired programmed volume of contents.  The remnants, those not eliminated, remain as the viscous by product which serves two purposes.  The primary programmed function is protection of the skin area in direct contact with any waste matter; if you will call it a continuous palliative.   The second functions subroutines are divided into two incessant categories:  the first is that of exfoliation; the second is utilized as a permanent dermis depilatory.   Which means that any hairs in contact with the viscous residue are dissolved; those that would grow back are immediately set upon again until the root itself is destroyed. Thus, within the diaper, the compression of the sludge increases in both density and friction while exerting increasing compression upon the wearer’s skin surface.  The third, already mentioned, is for immediate preprogrammed gradations of reprimand.”



“The reprimand is the signal for the nanites to abruptly combine the viscous sludge into a cohesive pulsating probe seeking a natural point of least resistance; a body opening and force entry.  After that what occurs is most unpleasant but it is an integral facet of the behavior modification aspect that the unit would instantly employ.  Those who’ve tested it swear that it’s nothing they’d want to have on again; especially if they’d lied.



“Now we come to the crux of the matter that the only means of safe removal is via the sentry nanites whose sole purpose is to shear both leg and waste bands simultaneously upon signal while signing the MT’s to withdraw from the mesodermis.   Until then the entire unit is literally affixed; it will stay in place without any other than the most drastic means of surgical removal; which would in essence be very messy, in more ways than one.  Any attempt to tamper with the unit would also be recognized by the nanites; the result of which would result in the immediate extension of duration.  



“So, basically that’s what the unit can do; but I still don’t understand why in the hell anyone would kill over something like this.  I mean it’s ridiculous to think that anyone could seriously go that far.  Am I wrong?”  



She waited for a reply while studying his face for any sign or hint of either outright rejection or of appreciation; she found neither.  Instead she was shocked when he opened his shirt pocket, reached in and pulled out a roll of breath mints and offered her the entire packet while calming stating, “Here, you need these.  Right now you could knock over an elephant or maybe even a jackass or maybe both at the same time.  You really don’t have a clue of what you might have here?  Ms. Porter, I’m not a rocket scientist, don’t claim to be that smart either, but I do have a nose for what they’d be used for.”  



For the first time since he’d met her he smiled, chuckled a bit, then told her to, “Hold on, we’re going for a ride.”

teddi

  • Winner of the Golden Panties Award
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R & D at F.E.M.M.
« Reply #20 on: July 18, 2010, 11:57:23 PM »
If Binder’s earlier abrupt 180 u-turn to a standing stop had surprised Shellie it was nothing compared to the shocked look on her face at being thrown back against her seat when he floored the accelerator and began shifting gears.  She stammered her astonishment with “This
this isn’t normal
is it?  I mean
what the hell kind of a car is this anyway? It’s not
I mean
this isn’t the car that Sid Clark had its dif
” 

She never had a chance to finish as a now smiling Larry Binder chortled at her predicament with, “What the hell, you finally figure that out?  Ms. Porter, Sid “Cluck” drove a pussymobile; I don’t!  Take a gander at the decal on my dash and tell me what you see, then, if you’re half as smart as I think you are you tell me what the hell kind of car this is.”

Shelly stared at the obvious which had escaped her when she entered and stammered, “Uhh, umm, well, its, it’s a
a Cobra?”

A sarcastic, “How special, you can read too.  Yes, it’s a Cobra.  Now read the rest of it.  Wait, no, don’t bother we don’t have the time for you to get past the simple basics; I’ll explain it to you and whatever you don’t understand you can take the time and look up later.  Ms. Porter, you’re sitting in a specially equipped Shelby GT 500 CR Venom, with a 440 C. I. crate engine and 770 H.P. under the hood.  It’s complete with mass flo fuel injection; an F1-R intercooled pro-charger with a manual transmission and it’s got a 9” fab rear w/3:70 gear ratio with posi-traction; complete with rack and pinion power steering.  The odometer reads out to 200 M.P.H. only because if I peg it at 240 for more than five minutes, the governor’ll kick in and that’s the speed that I’ll drop back to and cruise at; but that’s only because of the additional weight.  If you remember its armor platted and I don’t want to overheat this little puppy. 

“Now, since you can’t bend down and hide away, I strongly suggest that you just turn and duck your head away, close your eyes and pretend that you’re just looking out your window.  There’s a car coming directly at us, I’d say,” he paused for a moment and then continued, “from about 3 to 4 miles ahead.  We’re gonna fly like a bat out of hell outta here back at him and the reason is simple; I’m gonna start taking some pics of the car, the driver and who ever else is in it right now.  When I get back to the office I can download ‘em and see who the hell is so interested in our little drive in the country.”

Binder’s right index finger deftly first touched the button marked “CF/R” on the raised center of the steering column, then, just as quick moved to another beside it labeled “AC”* as he continued to chat; while Shelly strained to pick up the oncoming car in the distance ahead with no success.  Larry paid her no mind; figuring that as any normal person would, that she just wanted to see that something coming at her for herself.  Of course he mused to himself that he didn’t bother to tell her that because he had also pressed a unique little button just beside the front and rear camera just the opposite would occur to whoever was seated in the on coming vehicle.  They wouldn’t see a damn thing; not coming or going four seconds from the time he pressed it to the time he finally released its function. 

For several seconds of being pressed back in her seat, she hadn’t picked up on the approaching vehicle and wondered to herself if Binder was just delusional; after all, she thought he had a major ego to feed and that he wasn’t above trying to make her think that something was about to happen that he had already figured on happening just to try and pry some more information from her.   That last thought was dispelled when she broke her silent and forced stare at the road ahead with, “Ohh
you’re...”

“Right...is that the word you’re searching for?  So
you see it now?  Yup, it’s coming directly at us; I’d say doing about 65 and in this rain for some half-ass putz that’s pushing it.  Now, listen to me and listen good, we’re closing the distance between us fast; and when we shoot on past it, say in about 15 to 20 seconds; we’ll be doing about 140.  So first off, as I drive I don’t want to be distracted by hearing your voice ’cause when we do it’s gonna get kinda hairy.  Does this register with you?”

He never paused to afford her the opportunity to answer; merely considering his question a moot point as he continued. “I’ll need to concentrate on targeting both the front and rear camera lens’ that way coming or going, I’ll have some idea of who’s been bird dogging you and I’ll only get to have one chance to do it. 

“Second, if there’s an additional person in the car, a spotter with a SOTA Scanner,* I don’t want any eye contact with you at all; nadda.  I want my face to be the focus of its attention not yours; so please, don’t ask why just yet, I have my reasons, O.K?”

A hesitant nod was all that Shelly could muster; but Binder smiled at her one word incomprehensible query of, “Hairy?”

“Yea, like in rock and roll with lots of bumps and grinds; sort’a like the wild mouse at a carnival except it’s not a ride for the kiddies.  At the speed we’ll be traveling the roads surface will tend to accentuate all movement; especially up and down not to mention side to side.  We’ll be airborne over short distances; you’ll no doubt feel that too.  Who knows, we might get so close to your friend ahead that we might even get to brush paint.”

Shelly mumbled, “Your absolutely nuts!”

“Why Ms. Porter, that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me since we’ve been together.  But am I nuts, no.  Though I have been told that I have a pair of big brass ones; especially so because I believe that the best defense that I have is an even better offense and right now I intend to get really offensive; especially with whoever the hell it is who’s been sniffing your tail. So, if you please, make yourself scarce.”

There were too many things to think about for Shelly.  The first and foremost was that she was actually sitting in the front seat of a car from hell with a driver who, if appearances were any indication, didn’t give a flying frack about what he was about to do or could do to either himself or to her if he were to screw up.  Secondly she pondered, how in the hell did this guy know that someone would actually follow her or them?  She was pretty sure he wasn’t psychic but damn it, how in the hell had he anticipated what might happen.

Oh sure, the man was supposed to be a professional in his field but she wondered how far and wide his talents actually took him with confidence and how much more of it was shear bravado if not outright luck. But whatever it was, at this point, she had little say in the matter and found herself scrunching down and away from him in the front seat.  She thought about covering her head with her hands but didn’t want to appear like she was an out and out chicken-shit; so she just bit down on the first finger of her left had as she tried to push herself away even further from the center console.

The thought crossed her mind that she could use a drink.  What she wouldn’t give for a good shot of rye or gin or even a smooth blend.  Instead, the taste of the breath mint that she had absent mindedly just popped into her mouth still lingered on her tongue.  She swallowed the remainder of the pastille and decried the fact that it just didn’t have the same bite as a good shot of booze.

The other thing that just crossed her mind was his admission of just how brazen he was. He was completely secure in the fact that he thought himself hot-shit and didn’t care who knew it and the thought to her was refreshing.

But by the same token and not so refreshing or comforting was the increasing screams of the Cobra’s engine as Larry Binder started to wind the rpm’s out of it one gear at a time.  The once smooth ride, she had taken for granted before, had suddenly turned into one decidedly more urgent and fearsome.  Besides the buffeting she perceived of the car’s rock’n rolling from side to side, she began to feel each uppity bump or itty bitty dip; no matter how small.  With her eyes closed she noted as well that the larger the bump, dip or swale in the roads surface the greater the fishtail of the car’s rear end.  But always, the car seemed to shimmy for a moment then straighten itself out and would press onward at an even greater speed; almost as if jumping forward faster even after its tail end had left the surface once it hit pavement again.

Not lost upon her as well was the fact that besides the ever-increasing growl of the engine was the fact that the rain storm had amplified in ferocity as the frontal boundary wind gusts and now pelting rain began to hit the car broadside from the right.  She allowed herself a little peek, just to make sure that she wasn’t hallucinating herself; she wasn’t.  It looked worse than she first thought.   She was about to cry, if not scream; not only because of the weather but also because of what she thought she saw which to her was impossible.   Her little peak out the passenger window had also resulted her noticing the one little item which Larry Binder had purposely neglected to tell her.

This wasn’t the way she thought it would happen; hallucinating before ending up either wrapped around a tree or splattered all over the road in a head on.  No, she had envisioned something less bizarre and most definitely more sedate if not stately.  She closed her eyes thinking that she’d never open them again.  She kept that thought until she heard Larry Binder
whistling the tune of
“Whistle while you work.”

She marveled that the son-of-bitch didn’t miss a beat
even when the manifest side impact of forced air pressure between the two vehicles, almost seemed to push them with ease off the shoulder of the road; but unknown to her, of the two, only the Cobra was still on the road. 

Before she could reflexively open her eyes she felt the centrifugal force of another hard turn force her solidly into the passenger side door while hearing Binder slam on the brakes while successively downshifting.  She had lost count of the spirals taken between where they had been when he applied the brakes and where they were when the car quit spinning successive 360’s; and the only thing she was certain of at this point was that once again Larry Binder was putting the petal to the metal.

 It was at this moment that she couldn’t believe her ears, Binder was now whistling a different kid’s tune she remembered from long ago and somehow she knew that he wasn’t nuts; wild and extreme yes, but nuts, definitely not.  She opened her eyes and looked first to where the hood of the car should’ve been and wasn’t then turned to look bewildered at the man beside her as he continued to whistle
  “
it’s off to work we go
forget your troubles
”

In the meantime, Mark Porter was not a happy camper. 
__________________________
*A C = Active Camouflage (Explanation
"Active camouflage provides concealment in two important ways: firstly, it makes the camouflaged object appear not merely similar to its surroundings, but effectively invisible through the use of mimicry; secondly, active camouflage changes the appearance of the object as changes occur in the background. Ideally, active camouflage mimics nearby objects as well as objects as distant as the horizon. It also makes it see through.
Active camouflage has its origins in the diffused lighting camouflage first tested on Canadian Navy corvettes during World War II, and later in the armed forces of the United Kingdom and the United States of America.
Current systems began with a United States Air Force program which placed low-intensity blue lights on aircraft. As night skies are not pitch black, a 100 percent black-colored aircraft might be rendered visible. By emitting a small amount of blue light, the aircraft blends more effectively into the night sky.
Active camouflage is rumored to have taken a new turn with the development of the Boeing Bird of Prey, which apparently took the technology further. (The Bird of Prey was a black project and available data is limited.)
Active camouflage is poised to develop at a rapid pace with the development of organic light-emitting diodes (OLEDs) and other technologies which allow for images to be projected onto irregularly-shaped surfaces. With the addition of a camera, an object may not be made completely invisible, but may in theory mimic enough of its surrounding background to avoid detection by the human eye as well as optical sensors. As motion may still be noticeable, an object might not be rendered undetectable under this circ-umstance but potentially more difficult to hit. This has been demonstrated with videos of "wearable" displays where the camera could see "through" the wearer. This usually requires knowledge of the relative positions of the observer(s) and the concealed object.)"  Full credit to Wikepedia.
** SOTA 
Singular Optical Target Acquisition.

 

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