First thing's first:  THIS IS YAOI LEMON. Ya don't like it, *you
don't hafta read it*. I'm not going to lecture, I'm not going to fuss and
I'm not going to accept flames from people who don't like it. Someone said
that one should have "a viable reason" to write a yaoi Ranma fic, I think.
Kun-chan's "Ranma no Hentai", of course, was beyond viable. I'm taking
another track.

        This story is the first of four (perhaps as many as five). The first
two are completed and probably won't be changed a lot when all is said and
done. The third, fourth (and possible fifth, if I think that three and four
are too large on their own) should be along by next week. Nobody ever
accused me of being too fast...I get sidetracked ^_^

        The idea is something that I discussed with my old roomie, the psych
ward worker. Needless to say, in America (I know, I know. Don't lecture me)
*and particularly so in some areas more than others* the actual scenario
that's about to arise is more likely than one would like to think. It would
also give at least a modicum of viability to the rest of the fic -- perhaps
not a lot, but enough so that *I'm* satisfied. It's disturbing, it's
painful, it was difficult to write. I still think that it could have been
more original but I tend to fall back upon stereotypes when I reach
something that does give me a hard time.

        As I'm no longer on the FFML, if you want to reply then you should
reply *TO* me -- otherwise, I ain't gonna see it.

        There. You've been warned. NOW you can read on. ^_^


	*******************************************************
	* Potentially dangerous alterniverse coming up. If you*
	* didn't like "The Surrogate", chances are, you won't *
	* like this. Imagine "The Surrogate" explicit and yaoi*
	* before attempting it. There IS a point to this. Read*
	* the notes, if you're curious.                       *
	*******************************************************

					-=*Father Figure*=-

"I will be your father figure/Put your tiny hand in mine/ I will be your
preacher, teacher/Anything you have in mind. "
					-- George Michael, "Father Figure"

                *****************************************

	"You've been havin' it way too easy lately, Ranma m'boy. "

	The words reverberated in the young man's mind relentlessly, hardening his
jaw as he listened to the adults blather on about "training" and how
important it was and yatayatayata.

	"So quit talkin' and start trainin', " he murmured resentfully, crossing
his arms over his chest. He heard Happosai blathering on about something and
only halfway listened to the rest of the conversation. It was at that moment
that his father's words hit him like a brick.

	"I think you're in need of some re-education, boy. "

				******************

	The first time Ranma had heard those words, he had been thirteen. It had
been years since he'd seen his mother and he was having an extraordinarily
BAD day. Between the girl riding the large pig that had stomped it's way
right over him and the girl with green hair that had *zapped* him as she
flew past chasing some boy with brown hair, it just wasn't Ranma's day.[1]

	And it was about to get worse.

	Genma was lazing about near the campfire (already a little too close to
drunk on the sake to make Ranma comfortable) and glaring at Ranma through
the flames. Ranma had seen that glare before, usually before his father's
temper blew up at him, and thus he was being especially careful not to do
anything to rouse the large man's ire.

	Not that Genma really needed anything, of course. He'd find something,
shortly. One way or another.

	"Who was that boy I saw you walking with the two days ago, Ranma?" came the
unexpected question.

	Ranma's sapphire eyes flew open wide as his head shot up. "What boy, Pop? "
he asked in confusion.

	"The one with the bandanna. The one that looked like he was going to reach
out and hold your hand, *BOY*."

	Ranma gulped. There were a lot of things in his life that he truly didn't
want his father knowing anything about, and Ryouga was one of them. At
first, the whole thing had been a game. Steal the bread, see who wins,
winner takes all sort of thing. Then it had become excitement in the pit of
his belly and then shame at what he was thinking -- until Ryouga had
frightenedly confessed that he'd been having the same thoughts as well as
they walked home one afternoon. Ranma spent a great deal of time guiding
Ryouga about as a result...he couldn't seem to find much of anywhere on his
own. Ranma knew that the risk of being caught by Oyaji was pretty much
fifty-fifty, but he thought that what he had with Ryouga was worth it.[2]

	Ranma raised an eyebrow, trying to look nonchalant. "Just some guy, Pop. We
spar a lot, y'know...after school and stuff. "

	Ranma had thought that his excuse might be the one to back off his father's
coming anger, but it only served to stiffen the older man's back, his scowl
well-fixed as he rose, hand reaching to the side of him. "Letting someone
subvert my training, boy? How many times do I have to tell you that a
martial artist listens and learns from *all*, not just from one? Especially
not some boy like _that_ one, " he seethed in disgust. "Some boy who looks
like he's going to touch you as you walk down the street... yaoi fucker...."

	Ranma paled. He knew the rhythm in these things and he just wasn't big
enough yet to protect himself against what would come next.

	Ranma stood clumsily, stumbling a bit across a rock that was placed near
the circle of stones that made the fire ring. Genma was rising, coming
closer, and in his hand was something that Ranma recognized from his
earliest years on the road with his father, something that made him stiff
with fear and limp with acceptance all at the same time.

	"You know the position, boy. Assume it. "

	Ranma carefully drew the red satin shirt he'd changed into after school
over his head, folding it with smooth, precise motions. With only a second's
hesitation, he pulled off his pants as well, more jerkily than he had his
shirt, the sheer humiliation of the act making him tremble, tears not far away.

	He heard Genma chuckle angrily and saw him shake his head as he began to
turn. "Oh, no. No, no, Ranma, m'boy. The rest of it, as well.  I think
you're in need of some re-education, boy."[3]

	Ranma's entire body went still as he stared at his father with wide eyes,
shivering in the cool night air. "Wh..what? " he stuttered softly,
disbelieving as he bit his lip tightly to keep it from trembling.

	"You heard me, boy. Off with the shorts. "

	Ranma bowed his head, fighting somewhere inside of himself as his very soul
began to shake. His fingers quivering, Ranma hooked his thumbs in the
waistband of his boxers and pulled, tugging them down over lithe hips and
folding them with his pants and shirts before he turned his back to his
father slowly. He felt it then -- the leather strap flying from his father's
hand and wrapping around a hip to burn a welt into his tummy, just below his
navel. Ranma grunted with pain and dropped to his knees, eyes dewed over
with tears as he reached up, right hand flashing open, left hand grasping
the right wrist in a fist as he leaned forward, forehead placed against the
cool grass.

	Genma grunted harshly, a foot coming between his son's knees to push them
apart further, leaving certain muscles tight and offering him a view of
everything the boy had. After raising an eyebrow and eyeing the boy
contemplatively, it commenced.

	Ranma moaned softly every so often. He could feel the welts marking him,
the belt licking across the small of his back, his inner thighs, as high as
his shoulders. He could feel his body writhing beneath the blows and he knew
that If it went on for much longer he would embarrass himself, faint or wet
the grass beneath him or vomit with the fear and the pain. It couldn't go on
much longer. Surely it couldn't, or he'd pass out....

	It was then that he heard the belt hit the grass and heard the soft rustle
of cloth.

	Ranma's fingers slowly began to unclench, stiff from holding his wrist so
tightly...and then he felt Genma behind him, pulling him closer, and he felt
something oddly familiar pressed to the back of his thigh. His body went
still as he cried out and began to struggle valiantly, but to
no avail. What had been an act of tenderness with Ryouga became an act of
shame, his back bowing as he cried out in pain and disbelief, tears
streaming down his face as he felt the heavy thickness of the penetration,
the deep pain of a part of his soul being destroyed. Ranma knew that the
easiest thing to do would be to faint, to pass out and to forget. He also
knew that he would never be able to block it out totally and thus it would
be pointless.

*******

	It was over, done with. Ranma shuddered beneath the light material of his
sleeping bag, his body bare and aching as he sighed with resignation,
suppressed sobs rippling through him as he shook violently, only daring
every now and then to glance across at the snoring heap on the other side of
the fire that was his father. With feather light fingers, he reached behind
him and rubbed one of the welts, tears gathering again as the pain echoed
across his skin.

	Ryouga should have been here two days ago. Ranma knew that it was a mistake
to let him run home by himself instead of just coming here and getting his
things and leaving then, but he thought that it would be all right, that his
father would remain calm and sober long enough for Ryouga to actually make
his way back to this empty lot.

	It was a foolish hope. Ranma knew that, now. With a rough hand, he brushed
away the tears still streaming down his face. Tomorrow. They were leaving
tomorrow. Maybe Ryouga would be here by then. Maybe there was still the
chance to leave....

	And with that thought, the exhausted young warrior known as Ranma Saotome
tumbled over the edge of his enervation and into a deep, dreamless -- and,
hopefully, healing -- sleep.

				******************

	Ranma trounced Happosai angrily, balancing on top of the little old
pervert. His anger at the remnants of that memory echoed in every bit of his
flesh as he glanced up at his father, looking pensive.

	"Of course, Tendo, each martial artist has his own special way of
training," Soun murmured.

	"If it ain't broke, don't fix it, I always say," Genma responded solemnly
as the two turned in concert and headed back for the house.

	Ranma heaved Happosai over his shoulder to carry him back to the house, a
miserably unhappy look reflected on his face. Finally, he was old enough to
protect himself. Things like that didn't happen anymore and Oyaji had
forgotten that it ever had. Oyaji was mostly sober, these days, and rarely
got mean -- perhaps it was the panda coming out in him.

	And now he had to deal with Ryouga hating him for not being there when he
needed him.

	"Well, old buddy, " Ranma muttered to himself, "it ain't like you were
there for me, either. " With that pronouncement, Ranma walked in the back
door and back into chaos.

                      *********************************

[1] I know. The time sequence is probably a little out, but just work with
me. It's an alterniverse, for star's sake...
[2] Charmingly oblique, wouldn't you say? So I'll just go ahead and say it,
outright -- yeah, Ranma and Ryouga are lovers (for what it's worth).
If you don't like it, don't read it. Trust me when I say that (in
this particular world) both boys need someone who cares for them a
great deal -- Ranma, because of his father's particular disposition,
Ryouga because of the loneliness that one would accrue, living in a
household in which no-one ever managed to find their way home.
[3] I know. I KNOW that it sounds sort of corny. But doesn't it sound sort
of.. right, as well?

	I promised an explanation of this, didn't I? All right, then. I stand by
this story, regardless of flames or complaints. I _do_ _not_ _apologize_ for
it. We've had a lot of back and forth recently about everything from
non-consent to yaoi to the frightening and hideous potential of Genma and
sex....and the more I thought about it, the more tempted I was. You should
never tell me what I "cannot" do, because I love to do just that. ^_~  The
possibilities were endless, there were so MANY things that could turn people
on their ears.... Of course, even *I* wasn't going to touch the watersports
bit, anyway... Kun-chan's inimitable  "Ranma no Hentai" was beautiful, and I
thought, well.. all right, I can give a shot at SOMETHING like that, surely.
Perhaps it won't be so beautifully done...but I guess they can put up with
it. (No, this is not an 'I can beat that/top that/make it worse than that'
fic, thank you much.)(Obviously -- Kun-chan does exquisite work, and this is
rather darker than anything I've ever seen her do.)

	At any rate. I was watching "Bathhouse Battle" the other day and that line
just sort of stuck. *You're in need of some re-education, boy.* Genma never
sounds like a loving parent to me, anyway, but that PARTICULAR phrase made
me shudder. From there, the idea ran like wildfire and so I had a talk with
one of my college roommates who's working in a psych. hospital. This is a
likely scenario -- much more likely than, say, the one in "A Real Man" in
which Genma takes his young son to visit....er... ladies of ill repute. As
much as one really *doesn't* like the idea...There you have it. I figure
that there are a lot of people out there who are going to flame me wildly
one way or another, anyway. *shrug* I warned you. It was labeled. I even
TOLD you what it was. If you didn't pay attention to it, don't flame me. I
WARNED you. More will follow, and it will be "better", (i.e., consent given
-- I prefer it that way, but this needed to be gotten off of my chest rather
badly), still some yaoi, maybe some bdsm and a little voyeurism. If you
didn't like this, perhaps you'll like the next one -- or the one after that.

	Thanks go to Shuichi for the inspiration and for taking the time to read
for me. The particular "form" that Ranma assumes comes from a story in
_Flesh & the Word 3_ (edited by John Preston). I can't recall the name of
the story, but it had a certain quality to it that's difficult to put into
words. Alluring would be the most apt of terms. Nothing like this, of
course, but quite charming all the same.

tz
        ***************************************************
        *  If I die let it be with you...                 * 
        *  Hold me close while the world falls in on me.. *
        *  Whisper my name as the darkness rises...       *
        *  And I fall into the dream that never ends...   *
        *      From:"The Scarlet Letters" by Scott Urban  *
        ***************************************************