Moxibustion Violation 12

Chapter 12

Don't ever, ever, ever piss off Happosai again, Ranma told herself morosely.

The old pervert had tried to teach Ranma his technique for removing a girl's underwear while she was wearing it, but Ranma had refused to learn. He just knew that the old man would make him practice it, a lot. Not to mention being told to bring the results back as a gift for his sensei. And Ranma had wanted no part of it.

After arguing for several minutes, Happosai had given up, although he'd been scowling darkly at the time. Ranma had congratulated himself on winning the argument, but had grown increasingly nervous as the old man's black mood didn't lift. They were staying in a town currently, presumably so that Ranma could have practiced the technique had he been willing to learn it.

Happosai had gone out, leaving Ranma alone in their room to ‘reflect on the error of his ways.’ Ranma had decided that he'd better do something to make it up to the aged martial arts master and had transformed himself into a female, then dressed in the most revealing lingerie the old freak had bought for her and waited for his return, wearing nothing else.

Except when Happosai had returned, he'd given Ranma one look and grunted. “Good. Leave that on. Put on that red minidress and follow me.”

Not sure what else to do, Ranma had done as she'd been told. They'd gone out and waited in a park until a young woman had walked by wearing a dress not that much different from Ranma's. The old man had hit her sleep shiatsu point, placed her as comfortably as possible on a bench, and left her there. Then he'd told Ranma to follow him again.

By this point Ranma was extremely nervous. She wasn't too worried about the woman, who should wake up naturally in a couple of hours, assuming the two of them didn't return to wake her first. But she was very worried about what Happosai might have in mind. Except she couldn't begin to guess what that might be.

Leaving the park, they'd walked down the street and stopped at a door between two storefronts, one which opened on a flight of steps leading to an upstairs apartment. There seemed to be a lot of noise coming from a window above. At that point Ranma flatly refused to go any further. Then she found herself falling on her face as Happosai hit her own sleep point.

Ranma had awakened to find herself on the landing at the top of the stairs, suggesting that no more than a minute or two had passed. She climbed to her feet in alarm, at which point Happosai knocked on the door and jumped back down the stairs. Before Ranma could react further, the door opened and her arm was grabbed by a man, who dragged her inside. This guy had shouted, “Hey, everyone, the entertainment is here!” He'd cupped her boob, at which point Ranma realized that Happosai must have hit her libido points as well, setting her to the maximum level, because she immediately soaked the crotch of her lacy panties.

It turned out they were holding a bachelor party for some guy who was getting married the next day, and Ranma had no trouble figuring out that she'd been substituted for the professional who was supposed to be here. The problem was that several guys started feeling her up immediately, leaving her mind so clouded by arousal that she couldn't think to protest, to tell them it was all a mistake.

This had led directly to Ranma's current situation. She was naked, lying on top of the groom-to-be on a low table, with his cock buried in her wet snatch. Some other guy was kneeling behind her, stuffing her butt with his prick. A third guy was standing on the other side of the table, and Ranma had been sucking on his cock until it exploded down her throat. The sensation of him getting off in her mouth had in turn made Ranma come, and come hard. Immediately following the orgasm, she had a few moments for rational thought. Which is when she vowed never to piss off Happosai again.

“Hey, listen ...!” she began, but got no further as another cock was shoved into her mouth. Feeling her arousal start to build again already, Ranma flailed behind herself with one hand, trying to hit the points to reset her libido to normal. Only she found that the skin over the two points was swollen, as if by a bee sting, making it impossible to apply the appropriate pressure.

The guest of honor filled her cunt with his hot spunk a minute later, followed a few thrusts after by the guy in her ass. They moved away and two other men took their places, once again cramming their meat into both of Ranma's holes at the same time. The sensation was beyond incredible, and she rode them to another shattering climax.

By the time the third mind blowing orgasm hit, Ranma was so far gone in a sexual daze that she forgot about trying to explain that they had the wrong girl. Guy after guy ganged up on her, filling her with cock, shooting her full of cum, and she was flying so high on the sensations that she was humping right back at them, trying to drain them of every drop she could.

Ranma had no idea how long it lasted, or how many guys used her for their pleasure, although she was certain that most if not all took two or even more turns with her. Happosai told her later that there had been fifteen men at the party. All that she knew at the time was that her universe was filled with an endless parade of cock, driving her completely out of her mind.

When Ranma returned to her senses she found herself outdoors, behind a shrub, apparently in the same park where they'd left the other girl earlier. She was on her knees, Happosai was standing in front of her with his pants around his ankles, and from the taste in her mouth she'd just finished blowing him. Tentatively calling up memories, she nearly heaved at the thought of just how enthusiastically she had blown him before he'd filled her mouth with his sticky load. At least he had then taken sufficient pity upon her that he'd found some way to press on the swollen points, returning her libido to normal and her mind to a semblance of sanity.

Memories of the party were forcing themselves upon her and Ranma shuddered, trying unsuccessfully to repress them. She remembered at the end how the men had picked her up and yanked her tiny dress down over her cum covered body, not bothering with her underwear. They'd shoved her out the door without even bothering to pull the hem all the way over her hips. She'd walked a couple of blocks down the street like that before Happosai had appeared and led her to the park.

Ranma thought seriously about trying to hit the old man's sleep point and then maiming him, but what if she failed? She also considered, just as seriously, threatening to kill the pervert once she had her strength back, but what if Happosai decided to deal with that by not returning her strength? She sighed, concluding that there was nothing she could do, at least for now, except to cope with the memories as best she could.

Happosai broke the silence. “Ready to learn the technique now?”

Ranma snarled. The freakish dwarf had already punished her for refusing to do so. What more could he do? Then visions rose up in her mind of what more he could do. Ranma bowed her head and meekly answered, “Yes.”

Happosai grinned. “Great. Let's go home and get you cleaned up. You'll need to wear normal clothing while I show you how it's done.”

Grumbling and cursing inside, but showing a wholly placid exterior, Ranma got to her feet and followed her sensei back to their room.

Akane paused in the hallway outside the door to take a deep breath. She knew what was coming, and had no choice except to go through with it. She glanced down over her outfit, removing her coat for a better look. The sixteen year old girl had avoided any lurid display of sex appeal, feeling sure that a “schoolgirl” appearance was what the situation called for. So she was wearing a knee length skirt, and a tight but not formfitting shirt which showed just a bit of cleavage. With one more deep breath for courage, she opened the door and walked into the waiting room.

Akane crossed quickly over to the window, but the woman who had been there last month wasn't present. In fact, the room on the other side appeared to be empty. She had no chance to puzzle over this, however, as the door to the side opened and the handsome if undesired figure of the middle-aged Doctor Yamada entered the room.

“Ah, hello Tendo-san,” he greeted her jovially. “Right on time, I see. I've already dismissed Minori-san for the day. Are you ready to earn your next excuse slip?”

Akane had to take another deep breath at that question, wishing she could crush the man's throat. She somehow managed to make her voice sound meek when it emerged. “Yes, Doctor Yamada.”

“Excellent!” he approved. “Please follow me back to my office.”

Akane hung her coat on the wall and then trailed behind him, down the inner hallway and into his office. There he told her to stand in front of his desk, and as she moved to do so he went around the desk to take his seat. In truth, she had no choice but to either stand or sit on the floor, since the two chairs which had been present in front of the desk on her last visit were nowhere to be seen.

“Please disrobe, Tendo-san,” the doctor said without preamble. “Place your clothing on top of my desk.”

Seeing no choice except to comply, Akane quickly divested herself of shoes, socks, skirt, shirt, bra and panties. She folded them all neatly, placing them one by one in a stack atop the desk. Then she resumed her position standing and facing the desk, making no attempt to cover herself. Several lessons in the consequences of displeasing males when they wanted her on display had taught Akane to be careful about not hiding her assets when nude.

“I see your bottom has not been whipped today,” Yamada noted. “Since I see no reason the boy who did so before should have disappeared, or chosen to ignore you thereafter, may I assume that you have learned to be a trifle more obedient?”

“I ... prefer not to be whipped,” she replied, by way of answer.

The doctor chuckled. “I'm sure that's so. And how many times have you been raped since ... no, wait, I'm sorry. We established last time that you were never raped, that you got exactly what you wanted. So — how many times have you been fucked since your last visit here?”

Akane started a slow boil at the claim she hadn't been raped, but she dared not contradict the asshole. She needed him too badly, and he knew it. She breathed in and out a couple of times to stay calm, then replied, “I'm afraid I don't know. I ... lost count.”

“That many, eh?” He chuckled again. “You really do love having a man between your legs, don't you?” He paused, then asked, “And is it still the same seven you screwed so happily before? Or have you started putting out for other boys as well?”

Akane again fought for control. “Could we just get on with it?” she asked. “Go ahead and rape me and let me go.”

Doctor Yamada slammed both of his palms down on the desktop, making Akane jump. His face darkened with anger. “You will not use the word ‘rape’ again in my presence!” he said loudly. “You were never raped. You cannot be raped. You are nothing but a slut who craves having her cunt stuffed with cock after cock. Tell me — is your cunt wet or dry right now? And if you say ‘dry’ and I check and discover that it is wet, then I will whip you and throw you out without your excuse, and personally contact several boys at your school and tell them about your true ‘condition’.”

Akane's chin trembled. She looked at him with an expression which mixed anger and fear. Finally she said, “It's not dry.”

“Were you ever raped?” the doctor demanded.

Akane was breathing fast, and her lips were alternately compressing and relaxing as she fought not to give in to an outburst of either shouting or tears. “No sir,” she said, her voice tight. “I was never raped.”

“That's what I thought,” he said, more calmly. “You wanted those boys to fuck you all along, didn't you?”

Giving up, she said, “Yes sir. I wanted them to fuck me.”

Smiling a hard little smile, the man went on, “And I will never again hear you claim that you were raped, will I? Either concerning anyone who has already screwed you, or any time someone fucks you in the future. Even if a man doesn't bother to ask for your permission first, it isn't rape, because a slut like you enjoys getting fucked so much.”

“Yes sir,” Akane ground out.

His face turned stony. “Yes sir ... what?” he insisted.

Akane had thought she was prepared for what would happen here today. A quick fuck, maybe a blowjob, then he'd give her the excuse and she'd leave. She was realizing that she hadn't been prepared at all. That the man in front of her knew how badly he had trapped her, and planned to enjoy it as sadistically as he could.

“Yes sir,” Akane repeated, before speaking words which tore at her as they came out. “I promise I'll never tell you again that I was raped. I can't be raped because I'm a slut who enjoys getting fucked, and any man who fucks me is doing something I enjoy. It doesn't matter whether or not I said I wanted it. Since I always want to be fucked, it can never be rape.”

Yamada nodded. “That's more like it. I'm glad to hear you admit what you're really like. It's important for you to do so, since a colleague of mine will be here in a minute, and you're going to screw him and give every appearance that you're completely happy to do so.”

Akane stared, aghast. No, she definitely hadn't been prepared for what would happen here today. Hands clenching into fists, she shouted, “I won't! You can't make me!”

His face clouded over yet again. “How many times do we have to go through this?” he asked rhetorically. “If you don't cooperate, you will leave here without your excuse. I will contact several boys at your school, whom I know through their families, and tell them how defenseless you are. I'll tell them that you've already been spreading your legs for other boys at your school. Now, would you prefer that outcome? Or will you do as you're told?”

Akane started shaking like a leaf, but there was only one possible answer and she knew it. Screw two men, the doctor here and his friend — or get raped daily by numberless hordes of perverted schoolboys. “I'll ... do as I'm told,” she whispered.

The doctor leaned forward, elbows on the desktop, steepling his fingers. “Good. But I'm not happy with how much resistance you're showing. It disappoints me. It makes me think you don't know your place. Let me hear you promise that you'll always obey me, that you'll perform any sexual act I say, and that you'll screw anyone I tell you to screw.”

It was a nightmare. That was the only explanation. She was trapped in a nightmare. But she was unable to awaken, so she gave the only answer that she could under the circumstances. “I promise I'll obey you. I promise I'll do any sex ... thing ... you tell me to. I promise I'll ... I'll ...” She hung her head. “... screw anyone you tell me to.”

“Good. I'll be taking my turn after him. You're to do anything he says, and ...” Yamada cocked his head, then smiled. “I do believe he's here. Wait where you are.” He stood, circled the desk, and exited the office.

Akane stood where she was, feeling horribly exposed, trying to psyche herself up for what was coming. Yamada returned a few seconds later leading a man older than himself, late fifties or early sixties from what Akane could judge. Suddenly finding herself standing naked in front of a complete stranger, she blushed completely crimson, fighting the urge to cover her body from the sight of the two men.

“Very nice,” this new man said. He came over and walked around her slowly. “Very, very nice. I like them athletic.”

“I knew you'd be pleased,” Yamada told him. “And I assure you she's a great piece of ass. Really enjoys getting fucked, too. Her name is Akane.”

The other man looked over to Doctor Yamada and smiled. “It's a deal,” he said. Then he turned to the girl standing between them on display. “Come with me, Akane-chan.”

Yamada confirmed this. “Go with Doctor Kizaki to the examination room. You can use the bed there. Remember what I said.”

Akane nodded her head a little without raising her eyes to meet his. She trudged along in the wake of the older man as he left the office. They went a short way down the hall and into another room. It contained the usual, a counter with a sink, cabinets, various pieces of medical equipment, and an examination table which could also serve as a bed.

“Your job is to pretend to be my patient,” Kizaki told her. “I'm going to examine you, and, of course, I'm going to do some other things as well. You're to follow my instructions just as if you were a patient and everything I told you made sense for an examination. Understand?”

Akane nodded, then climbed up to sit on the table at his direction. She sat there facing him, wondering what was coming, though she had a pretty good idea where it was going to end up.

Doctor Kizaki smiled and said, “I understand you came in today because of a problem with your vagina. Something about over-lubrication. Is that correct?”

Akane stared, then caught herself. Lowering her eyes, she replied, “Yes, doctor.”

“Very well,” the white-haired doctor said. “But I'll need to perform some standard tests first.”

With that he put the ends of a stethoscope in his ears and proceeded to listen to her breathing and heartbeat. He may have pressed it to her boobs a little more often than elsewhere, but it was still surprisingly normal. Letting the stethoscope dangle, he performed a breast exam, manipulating and pressing her tits extensively. Yet Akane had no trouble enduring it.

After this, to Akane's surprised bafflement, he went on to take her blood pressure with a cuff around her arm, hit both of her knees with a little rubber hammer, peered into her ears, and stuck a tongue depressor in her mouth to look down her throat. Akane honestly began to wonder if this was going to turn into a normal medical exam instead of the experience she was expecting.

Then he told her to lie down on her stomach. Picking up a thermometer, he quickly lubed it before shoving it most of the way up her butt. Akane grunted in mild discomfort at the suddenness of the intrusion, but by now had taken much larger things back there, shoved in much more forcefully.

When he withdrew the thermometer, Kizaki actually took the time to check her temperature. Akane almost shook her head in disbelief, but restrained the reaction. She figured that he must surely be done with the preliminaries soon, and she was right.

“Very well, Akane-chan,” the doctor said, licking his lips. “It's time to have a look at that vagina. Please roll over onto your back, and move down so that your hips are at the edge of the table.”

Akane did as she was told, noting in the process that there was an erection tenting the front of the man's slacks. Sighing to herself, she guessed that everything which had gone before was part of some fantasy of his. She lay back, her legs dangling off the end of the table.

Kizaki stepped up and lifted her legs, bending them back over her stomach. “Please grasp your legs behind the knees and hold them up like that. Wider please. Wider. Perfect.” He gazed with open lust at the sixteen year old pussy spread before his gaze, then reached forward with trembling fingers and spread her folds to look upon the treasure within.

“I see what you mean about your over-lubrication problem,” he said happily, gazing upon the very moist tissues. Akane felt herself blushing, a reaction she couldn't understand given all of the things she had suffered before this point. The doctor slowly inserted a finger up to the knuckle, feeling around inside.

“Are you sexually active?” the doctor asked her seriously.

Akane realized he was still in the role of giving an examination. “Yes, doctor,” she said.

“I can tell,” he replied. “Very active, I would say. Have you had intercourse with one penis, many times, or have you had intercourse with many penises?”

Akane thought that sounded a little odd. As if she had sex with floating penises which had no men attached. Not that she was going to trouble herself over such a thing. “Many penises, doctor.”

“And do you enjoy it?” he asked.

Remembering the things Doctor Yamada had said, Akane answered, “Yes, doctor. I enjoy having sex very much.”

“How many times would you estimate you have sex per week?” he inquired.

Akane decided not to bother calculating an exact mathematical answer. It was hardly likely he was interested in the number other than hearing her say something which would feed his fantasy. “About three times a day, on average,” she told him. “Which would be about twenty-one times per week.”

Kizaki quirked an eyebrow and smiled. “My, my. You are a bit of a nymphomaniac, aren't you?”

Akane sighed, trying not to let it become audible. “I suppose so, doctor.”

“I see,” the doctor responded, breathing a little faster. He straightened, removing his finger. “As it happens, I know the cure for your condition and have it right here. It will require me to insert an applicator deeply into your vagina, and push it in and out several times to settle it correctly. At the end, the medicine will be deposited in your vagina and I will withdraw the applicator. It is very important to keep your eyes closed throughout this process. Do you understand? You must not open your eyes until I tell you to. Close them now, please.”

Troubled as she was about the whole business, it was all Akane could do not to laugh at this foolishness. Even in a fantasy, how could he possibly think that anyone could buy something like that? Nonetheless, she schooled her expression carefully and closed her eyes. “I'm ready for the applicator, doctor.”

She felt something rubbing back and forth along her pussy, slipping between her petals. It began to press in. Her cunt stretched around it as it pushed farther, and it occurred to Akane that he must be quite thick, about the same as Raiden, which was almost as much as Hikaru. This in turn almost made her weep to realize that she was becoming a connoisseur of cocks which fucked her. When Akane felt the man's belly press against her, she realized that despite his thickness his penis must be shorter than the other ones she had experienced so far.

He pulled back and thrust forward, and Akane started to feel the familiar heat of arousal growing within her. However, he only lasted about eight thrusts before he pushed himself in and held himself there. Akane realized that he was ejaculating, thought the word “Wimp!” and then asked herself what the hell she was thinking — did she really want a rapist to screw her for a long time and maybe even make her come?

When he withdrew, Akane kept her eyes closed and asked, “Did you inject the medicine, doctor? Should I clean off the applicator for you?” Again she asked herself what the hell she was thinking, asking a leading question like that.

“Er, no,” the doctor told her. “I don't think I could get it up ... that is, I mean, there's no need.” She heard a zipper. “We're all done, here. You can open your eyes and get up now.”

Akane was surprised that there wasn't going to be anything more. But then she remembered that she still had Doctor Yamada to deal with. She climbed off the table, noticing that Doctor Kizaki had already left the room. She stepped through the door and saw him down the hall, talking cheerfully with Yamada. Then she saw money change hands and leaned against the wall, feeling faint.

Kizaki left. Yamada, spotting her, walked quickly down the hall. He took Akane by the elbow and led her back into the examination room. “This will be better than my office. You stained the carpet in there last month.”

Rather than protest this accusation, Akane querulously asked, “Was he paying you? For ... for ...”

“For screwing you, yes,” Yamada told her unapologetically. “I told him I'd come across this great teenage hooker. Don't worry. I'll give you your cut before you leave.”

“You told him I'm a prostitute?!” Akane wailed.

Yamada snorted, shoving her against the examination table. “You are a prostitute,” he told her. “You agreed to have sex with me in exchange for something of benefit to yourself. So what if it's an excuse note instead of money? It still makes you a whore.”

Akane was shaking her head from side to side, wide-eyed.

Yamada sneered at her. “Don't bother denying it. Whatever excuses you make, it still comes down to the same thing — you're a whore. You agreed to fuck me so that I'd give you something. That's exactly what prostitution is. I simply decided to cash in on the fact that you can't keep your legs closed. And you'd better get the following through your skull right now — I'm going to sell your ass to someone else again next month, and every month after that.”

“I won't!” Akane told him loudly. “I am not a whore! I won't let you!”

The doctor snarled. “You know, I've about had it with you talking back! Whoever whipped you last month obviously didn't do a good enough job!” He grabbed Akane around the waist and lifted her up easily, spinning her around and slamming her belly against the end of the examination table. A hand on her back shoved her front down, crushing her tits against the bed. She was bent over at the edge, her legs kicking in protest.

Yamada hauled his hand back and slapped her ass, hard. He rained down slap after slap, slowly turning the flesh pink. Akane was grunting and mumbling curses, but from what he could tell apparently withstanding most of the pain. He wished he had a cane or something similar at hand. Something to think about for the future, he decided. Oh well, he decided, there are always old standbys.

With that he unbuckled his belt and pulled it out of his pants. Lifting it high he brought it down hard, causing a thunder-crack when it struck Akane's hips. She yelled, trying to jump up, but the hand on her back easily held her in place. All she could do was kick her legs futilely as the belt came down again and again.

Yamada remembered what Akane's ass had looked like last month, and was determined to achieve at least as much this time. Akane was screaming and sobbing, pounding her hands against the bed and kicking her feet. Tears ran down her face to wet the papery sheet underneath her. And still the whipping continued.

When he finally stopped, Akane's ass was a fiery red, heat radiating off of it in waves. He nodded judiciously. He felt certain that the fellow who had whipped the little slut last month would approve if he could see her. Releasing her now that he was done, Yamada stepped back to give the bawling girl time to quiet down.

Yamada waited until Akane had run down to soft, panting sobs before returning his attention to her. She was still bent over the end of the examination table, her reddened ass jutting out, red stripe marks visible along the sides but blended together in the middle. Her hands were gripping either side of the bed, and her face was turned away from him toward the wall.

Getting off of the stool on which he'd sat, the doctor walked over to stand beside the examination table, looking down at the quietly crying teenage girl. Her face was a mess, covered in tears, the skin around her eyes red. There was a large wet area on the sheet underneath her face.

Yamada cleared his throat, alerting Akane that he was standing over her. Speaking sternly, he inquired, “Now what are you? And you'd better think about your answer and get it right. Because if you get it wrong I'm going to give you a second whipping just as hard as the first.”

Akane thought about it and got it right. “I-I'm a ... a ... wh-whore.”

“Glad to see we finally got that straight,” Yamada told her. “And you're happy to work for me once a month as a prostitute, right? Say ‘yes sir’.”

“Yes s-sir,” she said, the words catching in her throat.

“And you're going to fuck whoever I tell you to, right? Knowing all the time that they're going to pay me for your services?”

“Y-yes sir.”

“And if I decide to make twice as much money next month, and have two guys here instead of one, I'm not going to hear one word of complaint from you, am I?”

It took Akane a moment to answer. She sniffled. “N-no s-sir.”

“In fact, you want me to sell you to a couple of men next month, don't you? So that I can make twice as much money.”

It was useless to say anything except what he wanted. “Yes s-sir.”

Speaking in a happy voice, as of one who'd just had an inspiration, Yamada said, “You know, there's a boy who lives down the block from me who goes to Furinkan. At least I think he does. He's on the soccer team if I remember right. What do you say I invite him here next month, swear him to silence, and let him have a go at you for free. Would you like that?”

Akane began to cry a little harder. She didn't dare say no. But if she said yes, he'd probably do exactly as he said. Which would mean one more boy at school who would be raping her. Even if this unknown boy honored the oath to keep silent, it would be one more point of exposure, one more risk of discovery. But what else could she do?

“Yes sir,” she answered brokenly.

“Really?” the doctor responded cheerfully. “I'll definitely have to consider it, then.” In truth, Yamada had no intention of considering it. The men he brought here to screw her would be carefully selected, and would have no idea of who she was. There was no way he was going to risk some randomly chosen boy, who knew her from school and who might go shooting his mouth off. But he loved the idea that this girl would spend the next month terrified that he was going to do so.

“Enough of that, time to get down to business,” Yamada said firmly. “I'm already hard, and you're already wet. Ask me to please fuck your tight little whore cunt.”

There was no resistance left in her. “Please f-fuck my tight little wh-whore c-cunt.”

Yamada stepped up behind the girl where she was bent over the table. He dropped his pants and pulled down his boxers, freeing his stiff cock. Pointing it at her hole, he shoved himself all the way in with one thrust. Then he began fucking her steadily.

Unfortunately for Akane, she had paradoxically ended up more aroused after the whipping than she had been before. Now the regular piston action of the hard rod in her cunt was heating her up further. Whatever she might think of the idea of responding to his actions, her pussy had a mind of its own and was soon pushing back to meet his thrusts. Just as the orgasm was about to break over her he stopped, the head of his prick only just touching her entrance. She wanted to cry out in frustration.

“I've just made a decision,” Doctor Yamada told the girl he was screwing. “From now on your name is Whore-chan. That's what I'll call you, that's what I'll tell the men to call you when I sell your ass to them, and that's what you'll call yourself whenever you're here.” He laughed. “Tell me. What's your name?”

For some reason, this was a humiliation too far. She didn't care if he beat her again. She'd probably pass out anyway if he tried. “My name is Akane,” she whispered.

He almost got angry, but then he looked down to where her ass was pushing back, sliding her cunt onto the head of his cock. Putting his hands on her hips he pushed, shoving her off of his cock and against the edge of the table, forcing a yelp from her. Then he pushed his prick all the way in to the hilt and pulled it all the way back out. Akane whimpered.

Yamada leaned down. “Do you want to come?”

Akane stubbornly remained silent. Yamada gave her another couple of thrusts of his cock, making her moan. Then he pulled out again. “Let me know when you want me to make you come.”

Still Akane remained silent. He plowed her furrow a few more times until her ass was humping against him, and pulled out again. Akane gasped in dismay. “Say ‘Please make me come’.”

Hating herself for giving in, Akane whispered, “Please ... make me come.”

Yamada pushed his cock in slowly, up to the balls. He whispered, “What name to you want me to call you?”

Akane pressed herself against the cock filling her, trying to hump it. “Akane,” she said, seething, while simultaneously trying to come on his prick.

The doctor pulled himself all of the way out, holding himself so that the tip of his dick was just brushing her labia. A hand on her back kept her in place so that she couldn't move her ass closer. His other hand reached around her underneath, and back up to the juncture of her legs. Yamada began teasing her clit lightly, stimulating it for a few seconds, then pulling his hand away, repeating the process over and over. Akane was trying to grind herself against his fingers.

“You want to come, don't you?” he said mockingly. “I think I heard wrong before. What name do you want me to call you?”

Tears were starting to run from Akane's eyes again. She needed to come so badly! “Akane,” she whispered. “My name is Akane.”

He teased her with his cock, pushing it in just a little and pulling it back again. He played with her clit, careful to stay on the near side of the abyss of her climax. He teased a little more with his cock, making her cry harder in her frustration.

“Please ... please ...” she begged.

“Just tell me the name I should call you, and you can come.” He gave her a hard thrust, but pulled out even faster.

She couldn't take it anymore. She begged herself for forgiveness. “My name is Whore-chan!” she gasped. “Please call me Whore-chan!”

Yamada rammed his cock all the way in and pumped furiously. His fingers danced directly on her clit. Akane screamed and rammed herself back against the cock just as hard, slamming herself against it over and over again rapid fire. She kept it up for half a minute before she collapsed, drooling, unable to move further. Somewhere in the middle of it all Yamada had erupted, coating the inside of her cunt with his cum.

He patted her ass as he withdrew. “Nice job, Whore-chan.” He took a step back from the table, blowing out a hard breath, making sure he could stand straight without wobbling. “You still need to earn your pay, Whore-chan. Get over here on your knees and use your mouth to clean me off.”

Akane turned her head to the other side, facing him. She didn't bother to hide her hatred. Not that it seemed to have any least effect. Wearily she pushed herself up from the table until she was standing. She crossed over to the man a little unsteadily, then sank to her knees. Taking hold of his limp prick, she put it in her mouth and began to suck and lick at it.

It grew back to a half erect state, but no further. After a while Yamada signaled to her to desist, and Akane gratefully released it. In response to the crook of his finger, she rose to her feet and followed him down the hall in silence. Back in the office she stood once more in front of the desk, nude but this time with a heavily reddened ass, while he sank into the chair on the other side.

“Let's just make sure you've learned your lesson,” he said languidly. “What's your name?”

“Whore-chan,” Akane replied spitefully.

He didn't particularly care how she felt about it, so ignored the tone of her voice. “Right. From now on that's the only thing you're called here. You'll also refer to yourself in the third person, using that name. Got it?”

Akane didn't care if he was unaffected by the emotions she projected. It made her feel a little better to let it show. So just as spitefully as before, she answered, “Yes, Whore-chan gets it.”

“Good,” he said. “And next month you're going to fuck the men I tell you to fuck and make me a lot of money, right?”

She simply answered, “Yes sir.”

“Speaking of which, you made me a nice twenty thousand yen today. Here's your cut.” He dug into his pocket and flipped her a five hundred yen coin.

Akane caught it, staring. Then she dropped it on the floor.

Yamada's icy voice froze her. “You've got ten seconds to pick that back up, Whore-chan, before you get another whipping. You're a prostitute, and you'll be paid for fucking the Johns I choose for you.”

Suddenly scared, Akane bent down and retrieved the coin. She held it clenched in her fist.

He nodded, approving her decision. Then he said, “Go ahead and get dressed while I write you your note. Your next appointment will be for Friday the eleventh. Same time. Same place. Same job.”

Akane put on her clothes. When she was done she wordlessly took the piece of paper he held out, glancing down to confirm what it said. She walked out of the office, neither of them having said another word.

And as soon as she was outside the building on the sidewalk, Akane threw the coin away from her as hard as she could, watching it vanish from sight over the rooftops.

Ranma was male, not that this was any great comfort at the moment. Almost he thought it would be better to be female if he had to do what he was doing. Not that anything could really make this any better. It ate at his soul, to be putting his own needs ahead of others, but the injury done to them was fairly minor, while the threat to himself was something he didn't want to face again.

The bachelor party had proved a sufficient spur to make Ranma do everything Happosai had required for his further training. As a result, he was now walking across the campus of a large university, with a knapsack on his back. That knapsack was slowly being filled with undergarments. From time to time he would walk up to some unsuspecting student, tell her his parents were thinking of sending him here after graduation and had made him come here to look over the place, and then ask her for directions to some building or other. Afterward he was careful not to look back as he walked off, not wishing to see her expression when she realized that either her panties or her bra were missing.

Ranma had been shocked at first to discover that some girls weren't wearing panties when he went after them. Those were the ones who supplied the bras in the backpack. With the exception of the two girls from whom he'd stolen nothing because they hadn't been wearing any underwear.

What bothered Ranma the most was that part of him was enjoying what he was doing, and he was damned sure Happosai hadn't hit those pervert points this time. Partly it was the sense of getting away with something naughty undetected. Partly it was a sense of power, that he could do this to these girls and they could do nothing to stop him; they didn't even realize he was doing it. Partly it was knowing that these girls were walking around without one of their undergarments, and there was nothing they could do until they had a chance to return to their rooms. He also enjoyed knowing that he was the only man around who knew that certain specific girls had voluntarily chosen to go outside naked under their skirts or pants.

He was also pretty disgusted with himself for all of those feelings. At least he could take some comfort in the fact that his disgust was much greater than the pleasure, but all the same that trace of pleasure was undeniably there. Ranma shuddered at the thought that he could be even just a tiny bit like Happosai.

Putting such thoughts aside, Ranma spotted another target. She was petite, with red hair tied back and a sizable bosom, quite reminding him of his own female self. It was the unusual red hair which had caught his eye. The boy strolled up to her casually, putting on the pathetic expression he'd been practicing. “Hi, could you help me? I'm visiting the campus today and I seem to be a little turned around.”

She flashed him a brilliant smile. “Oh, you too! I mean, I'm visiting here today, not that I'm lost.”

Ranma reached back to fiddle with his pigtail, embarrassed. “Um, yeah. My parents are talking about sending me here after graduation. Kinda crazy, since I'm still in my first year at school.”

“Wow!” she breathed. “Me too! I can't believe it! I was sure that no one else could have parents as crazy as mine! I mean, what's the point of worrying about this before our final year?”

Ranma was really starting to feel like a heel, but the knapsack needed filling. “Nuts, ain't it?” he suggested, while his arm flashed out behind her and under her skirt. The chi suppression kept her from feeling the touch as his fingertips stroked along the bare flesh of her ass. Ranma barely managed to keep his expression unchanged as he realized she was another one who had willingly gone outside commando while wearing a skirt. His arm seeming to possess a life of its own, he felt his fingertips trace along her slit before withdrawing as he began to ask, “So, do you know where the gym is suppose to be located?”

The girl was now looking rather flushed, causing Ranma further distress knowing that his touch was the cause of it even if she hadn't realized it herself. She turned around and pointed toward the fine arts building across the street.

“If you go around that building and past the library, I think you ought to be able to see the gym. Are you planning to major in P.E. or something? Or just interested in knowing about the facilities we'll be able to use?”

“Yeah, I was thinking of P.E.,” Ranma answered, while his hands flashed under her coat, one going for the hooks of her bra in back, and the other going for the cups in front, or the clasp if it should turn out to be in the front instead of the back. He was shocked yet again to discover that this girl, his own age, was walking around braless. The young man was unable to resist tweaking one of her nipples, which the girl didn't feel consciously but to which her body reacted.

“Oooohh!” she said, then looked embarrassed. “Umm, sorry. Don't know what got into me.”

I am turning into a goddamned pervert! Ranma bitched to himself. I have got to finish this training and get away from the old man before he corrupts me completely. What would Akane say if she saw what I was doing? He shuddered at the thought, picturing himself lying crushed in a crater in the ground.

“Thanks a lot,” he told the girl, turning to leave and find his next victim ... er, target.

“No problem!” She smiled brightly at him again. “Maybe we'll meet here again in three years!”

Ranma wished he were somewhere that he didn't have to want to curl up and die. “Um, yeah. May be!” He waved and walked off quickly.

Three quarters full, he told himself stoically. Another hour, about, to fill it up. Just another hour. Then I can leave. Ranma walked on, then turned toward a pair of twins standing there chatting, figuring he might be able to get two pairs of panties at once.

“Let's stop here, m'boy. There's something else I want to show you before lunch.”

Ranma, currently male, cast a wary gaze upon the ancient martial arts master walking beside him. Then he looked around himself. They were crossing a miniature golf course, currently unused due to being closed for the winter. Besides, the snow covering everything would have made it hard to putt golf balls around.

“What's up, old man?” he asked.

“You know,” Happosai said in an aside, “it's really quite amazing, when you think about it. All of those, ah, punishments you've earned, and you still can't learn to call me master. Or even sensei.”

Ranma squirmed a little, although he tried not to show up. He hoped the old freak wasn't considering a punishment right now. “I've called you ‘master’ a few times,” he pointed out defensively.

Happosai chuckled. “Only immediately after a punishment. When it was still fresh in your memory.” He waved a hand. “Don't worry about it. You've been behaving yourself. Mostly. I don't particularly care what you call me.”

Ranma sighed heavily. “That's good to know, you motherfucking asshole.”

Happosai frowned. “Don't push it, punk.”

He nodded judiciously when Ranma looked down to study his toes. Then he went on with his original intention. “I'm going to push some pressure points on you, and then we're going in to lunch.”

Ranma's wariness was back full force. “What's it gonna do to me?! I don't wanna find myself stripping some waitress in the restroom. Or turning into a girl and offering myself in exchange for the meal. Or anything else like that.”

The old man snorted, amused by the images. “Believe it or not, nothing like that. Nothing you'd call perverted. The truth is it's a bit experimental, so I don't want to say until I can observe the effect. But if it works the way I hope, it should make things a bit easier for you in the long run. Which is in the best interest of my school's future.”

After thinking about it, Ranma nodded. It wasn't like he had much choice anyway. He came to a stop between a windmill and Tokyo tower and said, “Go ahead.”

“Watch carefully,” Happosai instructed. “If this works, you'll definitely want to know where these points are, just in case it needs to be reinforced in the future. There are three points in front, two on your chest, here and here, and one on your diaphragm here. Note the intersections at which they're placed. You have them?”

Ranma answered, “Yeah,” and watched as Happosai pressed firmly.

The old man moved behind him. “There are two more points in the back, one to the lower left here just above the waist, and one high in the middle of the spine. Damn, get down here lower boy. That's better. You can't see them of course, but can you feel where my fingers are?”

“Yeah,” Ranma said, “I got it. That lower one is on the dan line, one nerve path left of the one used for the libido reset. The upper one is the cho point. Right?”

“Right you are,” he said, then pressed hard.

Ranma waited expectantly, trying to determine how he felt different. Nothing was occurring to him. He frowned.

Happosai walked off. “Come along boy. I'm hungry.”

A short time later they were seated in a booth at a restaurant. An extremely pretty waitress came over to take their order. When she walked off, Happosai turned to the boy across the table and said, “Hotcha! She's a real cute one, isn't she?”

Ranma's eyes turned toward her for another look, but he just made a “mmmh” noise. He didn't really want to play to the old man's perversions, even if he might otherwise admit that the woman was stacked even better than his own female form. Rather than getting drawn into a conversation concerning the waitress's obvious assets, he leaned back in his seat and continued puzzling over the problem of what Happosai had done to him.

“I'll be back in a minute my boy. Just going to the loo.”

Ranma opened an eye to follow Happosai as he left the table, thinking for a brief moment that if it wasn't for the need for his cure he could make a break for it right now. Of course, he'd had similar opportunities in the past days, and was still here for the same reason that he was staying right now. The need to recover his strength. It suddenly occurred to Ranma that the old pervert had carried his water glass with him to the restroom. Why the hell had he done that?

The ancient master toddled back a minute later, still carrying the glass of water, sliding back into his seat. Ranma picked up a plastic wrapped rice cake from a tray on the table and peeled it open. Just as he was lifting it to take a bite, he was hit right in the face by a torrent of water.

“What the hell did you do that for?!” Ranma screamed at the old man, who was sitting there merely grinning at him. A few other diners turned to look.

It took Ranma a moment to notice that something had sounded odd. His voice. It was too deep. He looked down, startled. He was a guy!

“I'm a guy!” he shouted, drawing more stares. “I didn't change! What?! How?!”

“Looks like it worked,” Happosai said in an oddly cheerful and mournful mix.

Ranma looked up to stare across the table. “You did ... The pressure points! You cured me?!”

Happosai shook his head. “No. Pour your own glass over yourself.”

With a degree of trepidation, wanting badly to believe his curse had been cured, Ranma lifted his glass and poured the water over his head. He instantly transformed into a buxom red-haired girl, causing many of the watchers to gasp in shock.

Ranma looked down at her chest sorrowfully, then returned her gaze to the man across the table. “I don't understand,” she said.

Happosai explained. “Some months back I was talking to one of your schoolmates, a pervert after my own heart. He told me about that cat's tongue pressure point Cologne used on you to lock you in your cursed form. I recently got to thinking about it. The pressure points I hit make a change to the way your nerves react to water temperature. From now on, you'll only change into a girl if you're splashed with ice water.”

Ranma looked down at the ice cubes which had fallen on the seat beside her when she dumped her own glass over her head.

Happosai continued. “When I took my glass into the restroom with me, I refilled it with ordinary cold water from the tap. It wasn't cold enough to transform you. This should make your curse easier to handle, since plain water like rain won't turn you into a girl any longer. You'll still need hot water to change back to a boy.”

Ranma picked up the cup into which she had not yet dunked her tea bag. She poured the steaming water over herself, wincing as she was scalded. Her body changed back to male once more.

“Wow,” Ranma breathed. Gazing at Happosai, he stammered, “I don't ... I still ... I just ...” He took a deep breath, then went on more rationally. “I still hate you for making me weak, and all the things you did to me. But ... thanks.”

“Like I said,” Happosai told him, “I figured it was in the best interests of my school's future. Just remember where those points are. I have no idea of any reason why the effect should wear off, but you'll want to know how to fix it if it ever should.”

Ranma nodded, still a bit spaced out over all of the implications. Being able to walk with Akane in the rain. Being able to go swimming as a guy. Not turning into a girl at the public baths. And on and on.

When the waitress returned with their food, Happosai insisted on paying up front. He pulled out a thick wad of bills, riveting her attention. Peeling off a few, he handed them to her and said, “Go ahead and keep the change as a tip, Cutie.”

She batted her eyelashes and bowed low, showing an extra amount of cleavage. “Thank you, honored customer.”

Ranma tried to ignore the old pervert's behavior. They concentrated on their food for a time, before Happosai started talking to Ranma about the young man's plans to reopen the dojo eventually. It came as no surprise to Happosai that the boy planned to do so despite previous statements about refusing to marry Tendo's daughter. In fact, as they discussed the matter, Ranma unknowingly let hints drop that he might not be quite so opposed to the notion of such a marriage as he had previously claimed.

Swallowing a mouthful and putting down his chopsticks, Happosai said, “I know you think I'm an old fool, but I'm going to give you some good advice anyway. Now, I never tried to open a dojo myself, and in any case things have changed since I was young. But I really would like you to make a success of the dojo, to have the Anything Goes style passed on to more than one or two people. But the way things are these days, that means you should see about doing some college work, getting certified as a phys ed teacher. Which also means getting yourself back in school and making an effort to get better grades.”

Ranma made a face. “Can't really see myself as the college type.”

Happosai waved an arm at the waitress. “Over here honey. Give an old man a refill, would you?”

He turned back to Ranma. “Let me sweeten the deal. I told you I've got more money put by than you know. I'm talking a couple of hundred million yen.” The waitress sloshed some drink on the table and apologized profusely while wiping it up. “Don't worry about it cutie-pie,” he told her, watching with a smile as she carried away the wet rag she'd used.

“The point I was going to make,” he said to Ranma, “is that I'll have my will put half that money in a trust fund. For the dojo. The other half will go to whatever girl brightens my final years. That'll give you access to plenty of startup money when you reopen the dojo, but I'll set it up so you only get the money if you get a degree in phys ed.”

“You serious?” Ranma asked incredulously.

Happosai nodded. “How many times I have to tell you? I'd like to see my school survive me, and you're my heir. You've got two more years of high school, and then college. By the time you're out and ready to get down to business, I'll likely have shuffled off this mortal coil. Which means the money will be sitting there ready for you to use. So — is it a deal?”

Ranma didn't take long to think about it. That kind of money could make a big difference in getting the dojo off to a good start right at the beginning. “I can try. You mind if I tell Akane? She could probably help me get my grades up.”

“I'd actually prefer you tell her,” the old man said. “So go right ahead. And maybe you could hang my picture on the wall, and have all the students bow to it at the beginning of each class, especially the female students, and ...”

“Don't get carried away,” Ranma interrupted. Then relented. “Maybe a little picture. So long as you're safely dead. And no bowing.”

The waitress came back over. “Is there anything more I can get you gentlemen? Dessert? Tea?” She licked her lip with the tip of her tongue, looking straight at Happosai. “Anything?”

Ranma looked queasy. Happosai smiled at her and answered, “Only another glass of ice water, if you would my dear.” She gave him a warm smile of her own and left to carry out this task.

Ranma had not missed the implication of the request. “Aw, man. You go and half cure me and now you expect me to turn myself into a girl?”

“Of course,” Happosai said nonchalantly. “After all, you still have your after lunch duty to perform.” Ranma shuddered in response.

When the waitress put the glass of water down on the table she also slipped a piece of paper into Happosai's pocket. “Why don't you give me a call sometime, sugar?” she told him before sauntering away with a definite sway in her hips.

Happosai raised his eyebrows cheerfully in Ranma's direction. “I'm going to the restroom, m'boy. For real this time. I expect to find a pretty redhead waiting here for me when I get back.” He stood up and walked off.

Ranma sighed in distaste. Before transforming, he got up and found the waitress. She looked at him quizzically as he approached.

Ranma put on his most serious save-the-damsel-in-distress expression. “Look, I thought I ought to warn you. You got no idea what that old man's like. Yeah, maybe he's got a lot of money, but he's a huge, huge pervert. Probably the biggest in the world. Believe me, you don't wanna get involved with him.”

The waitress, less than half a decade older than Ranma, looked the boy up and down, then shook her head. “What makes you think I care? So what if he's a pervert? Just so long as he's rich. I'm stuck here in a dead end job, getting pinched and groped and hit on by jackasses all day long. I got no money, I share a tiny apartment with two other girls, and my looks aren't going to last forever. It might not come to anything, but maybe I got a shot at living easy. So don't you get all holier than thou, and don't try to tell me what's right for me. You're not my dad, and I don't need your advice.”

Ranma opened his mouth, then closed it, as he realized nothing he could say was going to make a difference. So he shrugged and went back to the table. Once there he sat and looked at the glass of water, ice floating in it, droplets condensing on the side. With incredible reluctance he lifted it up and poured. A red-haired girl once more, she set the empty glass down on the table and waited.

After leaving the restaurant they made their way across town. They were almost out of the town when Happosai stopped and said with a grin, “This should be perfect.”

Ranma looked and saw a greenhouse. With a sigh she followed the martial arts master over and watched as he picked the lock, letting the two of them inside. It was filled with flowers of all sorts, growing in long trays, the air thick with their perfume. It was also hot and humid, and they both shucked their coats immediately. No one else was present, and they made their way to the middle of the building, where they were not visible through any of the walls.

“This is the perfect garden spot for our little tryst,” the aged pervert said happily. “Get yourself out of those clothes, pupil.”

Resigned by habit to these interludes, Ranma wordlessly slipped out of her clothes. It was perhaps the slightest bit more difficult after being allowed to think she was cured, or almost cured, of her gender changing curse, but the familiar feeling of helplessness overruled such emotions. Ranma dropped to her knees, facing the shaft standing up from its nest of white hairs.

When she was done Ranma wiped her mouth, trying not to gag. Her problem was less the taste than it was the thought of the withered old geezer she had just blown. Having got that out of the way until after dinner, she drearily pulled her clothes back on.

“I've got something to show you,” Happosai announced.

Ranma turned around, showing little enthusiasm. The old man was fully dressed and marched right up to her. He reached around behind, and touched a spot on Ranma's back.

“Where is this point?” he asked Ranma.

She thought about it. “On the spine, at the intersection of the dan and saba lines.”

“Correct. You really do pick up things fast. Only fitting, I suppose, for my heir. That's the point where you need to apply the cure for the ultimate weakness moxibustion. You remember everything else I told you about moxibustion, right?”

Ranma nodded, while thinking hard. He only needed one thing more. The symbol which must be burned into the skin at that point. The symbol, which had been drawn on the fragment of paper which had not been found, which Happosai had said was in his possession. Once he had that, his strength would essentially be restored.

Happosai was still speaking. “I've taught you everything now. Or at least everything I will teach you. That's why I waited until today to try that business about changing the trigger for your curse to ice water. Because I knew it was almost time to say good-bye, and it wouldn't matter to me if it was harder to turn you into a girl.”

Ranma stared at him dumbfounded.

Happosai gave him a mischievous look. “The only thing left is the symbol you need to burn on your back, the one to cure the weakness moxibustion. Which is drawn on that piece of paper. I said I'd provide that to you. I did say that, didn't I?”

“Yeah, you did,” Ranma agreed. His face changed. “If you're thinking of backing out on that, after everything I've done ...”

“Wouldn't dream of it, m'boy,” Happosai chuckled. “Just one minor detail. What I really should have said was that I'd provide you with its location. I don't have it on me.”

So eager was he by now, that Ranma hardly cared about the distinction. “Okay, fine! Where is it?! Tell me!”

“You remember that boy you were with? When I found you in the mountains? The one who was showing you such a good time?”

“The one who was raping me, you mean,” Ranma growled through gritted teeth. “Ryoga Hibiki.”

“Yes, him,” Happosai confirmed. “That bit of paper with the symbol you need on it? It's in his pack.”

“What?!!” It was a wonder the shout didn't shatter the glass roof above them.

Happosai smirked. “When I found the two of you in the clearing that day, I put it in his backpack. Just to keep it safe. Except he went and ran off with it before I knew what he was about. So all you need to do is find him, and you've found your cure.”

“What the hell did you do that for?! Why didn't you tell me?! You got any idea what you're saying?!” Ranma shouted. “No one could find Ryoga! He'd take a detour through Okinawa to walk down to the corner in Tokyo! God only knows where he is!”

“Then you'd best get looking,” Happosai chortled. “Don't worry. You'll find him eventually. Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna work my way back to that restaurant for my supper, see if maybe the same waitress is still on duty. Or if she's not, maybe give her a call. I think it's time to start holding auditions for the girl I'm gonna settle down with. And in case that's not hint enough, you're free. This is where we part ways. And given the look on your face, I suppose I'd better hope we never meet again.”

“You got no idea how right you are,” Ranma hissed. “If I ever see you again ...”

Happosai waved this off. “You won't. Not by my choice anyway. Oh, and here.” He pulled out some money and dropped it on a shelf. “Not in payment of services rendered, but just a gift to tide you over. And I promise, I'll change my will just like I said. I wish you an interesting life, Ranma Saotome.”

With that he turned and walked away quickly. Ranma stared after his retreating back until it vanished among the flowers. A minute later she heard a door open and close, and realized that it really was true. She finally was free of the old pervert. Not just now, but forever. Hopefully.

Ranma, male again and for once not nearly so concerned about the possibility of turning female, settled back into the comfortable seat. It had been a bit of a hike to reach the train station, but he was used to hiking. Now he was on a train heading south. In three hours he'd be in Tokyo. Not long after that he'd be in Nerima. It was going to feel really strange being home again. Assuming he let anyone know he was home.

It hadn't taken Ranma long to decide what to do regarding Ryoga. Finding the lost boy was obviously impossible. But Ranma was absolutely certain that, sooner or later, Ryoga would show up at the Tendo home. Sniffing around Akane, no doubt. Well, let him. As soon as he showed up, Ranma would have the bit of paper he needed. Then nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to prevent him from getting his strength back. Yes sir, before he knew it, everything was going to be back the way it should be.

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