Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Memoirs of being in the Saddle ❯ The secret ( Chapter 14 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

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The secret is incredibly obvious, but only in hindsight and you were holding certain thoughts in your mind. If you watch it happen, then it slips right by you. 

As a matter of fact, I actually mentioned just a little while ago, and it slipped by then as well.

 

The only reason I realized it was I had not only noted how drunk she had gotten, but also I had a close up view of her body.

 

The red-headed girl that looked at me was sober. Stone cold sober.

As water trickled down her breasts, her nipples crinkled slightly, like they had never been teased.

Her cunt was dry, unflushed, unaroused.

Reset.

 

Everything was reset.

 

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I had watched Ranma's antics for some time and I suspect others were as well, just not on the levels that I was at.

 

Friends looking out for the pigtailed martial artist, enemies looking for weaknesses, ignorant opportunistic exploiters such as Nabiki, Cologne and Happosai.

And me.

 

Part of the problem was how baggy the clothes get on her frame, the other part was her tits.  They were hard to ignore, and drew the eyes of men and women regardless of their orientation or emnity.

 

And when you paid attention to them, you didn't see the secret.

 

In his battles, Ranma had been cut, bruised, and battered many times. Now Martial Artists heal fast, far faster than normal people, but not that fast, and Ranma had many people gunning for his head. 

Damage accumulates, accidents and injuries happen, and eventually someone should be fresh and fit while Ranma was not. 

 

But it didn't happen. Ranma was always fit and ready.

 

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And, very importantly, it wasn't every change, only INTO what you were cursed, not out. 

 

Ranma as a girl had been slugged by Akane after the Tendo's hair had been cut by Hibiki's bandanna (don't ask) and Ranma had a nice swollen cheek because of it. 

Yes, turning back to male the bruise was still there, but lessened, mostly due to the fact that there was literally more Ranma when he was male. But that had led to a night time battle with Hibiki, both had gotten wet, and both, when turned back, were uninjured.

 

So it likely extended to all cursed forms, but becoming a little piglet with no opposable thumbs did make it a risky tactic. On top of that I'm not sure if Hibiki even noticed, he was a fairly durable, and when Mousse was turned into a duck he was usually summarily beaten up by Shampoo for some Amazonian slight of some sort.

 

And I had more examples to compare.

- Hit with Kodachi's paralysis powder on the rooftop as a male? Paralyzed for most of the night.

- Hit with Kodachi's powder again and falling into the pond of "Mr. Turtle" the alligator (again don't ask)? Instantly able to move.

 

-Nekoken? Had to be calmed down and asleep. Unless...

-Turned into a girl. Instantly back to her senses.

 

Was the burst of speed Ranma had purely from his female form, or, because he had been slowing from his injuries as well?

 

And Ranma knew it and had been exploiting the hell out of it to maintain his image.

I'd seen times where he'd been hit by Akane, Genma, had a bath, and wandered on. There were also times where Ranma was female for no real reason, unless but the timings this happened at...

 

No, he definitely knew. And he was keeping it from the others. 

 

I'd seen him in an arm cast for almost a week one time, and after getting wet, the way she used her arm in the now loose cast showed she felt no pain. I'd chalked it up to some numbing technique, but that wouldn't explain how well she'd used the limb in hindsight.

 

It also explained much about the tactics used by Cologne and others. 

 

The Cat's Tongue pressure point was not only a physical lock, but it also meant he couldn't ignore injuries. Yes, Ranma had spent much of that time training, but she had been far less outgoing and confrontational during that time.

 

When you had an undo button, you didn't alert the world about it. That would only invite more aggressive tactics, trying to bring him down before he could have a reprieve.

 

 

And all this, all this changed my game plans. Rewrote them completely. 

I had been approaching Ranma all wrong. 

Yes, I had gotten to known him and he trusted me as a male, but I couldn't get him drunk and coax him into experimenting with his female side.

I couldn't get him plastered and have my way with her body thanks to a nearby glass of cold water. 

 

I'd have to get Her drunk, not him. 

 

I'd have to arrange things carefully indeed.

 

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During my time of retrospection and scheming, things had been cleaned up. 

 

Ranma had tossed on her tanktop and shorts, and had at first washed the area she had made a mess in, then the rest of the bathroom when she noticed how it looked out of place and obvious. 

Yes, I hadn't cleaned it in a while and yes, I will be blaming the leg.

 

I watched her put everything back, get dressed, and take the bottles away. Five minutes later the tape ran out.

 

As she didn't come back nor was there a second red dot, I suspect that she watched a tape or some television and passed out on my couch. Mental and emotional relief did that to you.

 

As  for me, I fixed myself a drink and rewound the tape.

 

Then I watched it again.

 

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It was during the third time through that I noticed it.

 

When Ranma wrenched her hand away and had that incredible squirting orgasm, I naturally paid attention to her clenching pussy. 

It was after all, the literal climax of her film.

 

But on that third time I watched her hand instead, followed it and watched as it flicked a single drop on the edge of the mirror.

 

A drop that Ranma didn't notice, nor had I the first two times. 

More importantly, a drop that Ranma didn't clean.

 

As the tape rewound I made my way towards the bathroom.

 

Inside it was clean, pristine, smelling faintly of the bleach in the cleaner I used. I ignored that.

 

There it was. It had dried, and was by the edge such that, if you were standing and looking down, you'd easily miss it.

 

I knelt, ignoring the sound my metal leg made on the tiles, the faint scratch it would leave, and the pain my knee had as the titanium plate that was my kneecap pressed against the bone. Then I was on my hands and knees, getting lower to line my head up to my target.

 

None of it mattered.

 

Without hesitation I licked the glass, and tasted Ranma's cunt.

 

A sample. 

 

A connection beyond the glass and the camera.

 

Wonderful.

 

I felt myself throbbing like a teenager, despite my discomfort.

 

Giving my knee some relief, I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, absently stroking myself.

 

And began work on my new plan.