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Man Ban TG - Part 1

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Man Ban – Part 1

I woke to the echoes of computerized gunfire carrying from the living room to my bedroom. I leaned my head up from the pillow and groaned. The ear plugs were on the dresser but putting them in meant I might not be able to hear the alarm clock.

I understood the consequences of a night job at an animation studio but I also figured I'd made it clear to my roommate, Leon, to wear headphones when playing something loud. Burying my head into the pillow did nothing to help. Playing some music just as loud back would only make things worse. So, begrudgingly, I staggered my way over to the lamp and flicked it on. I could see the time on the clock by my bed.

I blinked at the black-out curtains on the window and cracked my neck before shuffling to my feet. The sunlight spilling in from the hallway made everything torturingly bright. Brushing some of my shaggy, blond hair out of my eyes, I peered at the living room, where I could see Leon camped out with open bags of chips and several green bottles of beer.

Leaning against the archway, I cleared my throat. The sound carried well but wasn't enough to shake Leon from his sniper-like stare. After a ringing headshot, I coughed.

Leon grunted and noticed me out of the corner of my eye before saying, "Shit. What's up?"

I paused with a narrowed stare of my dim-blue eyes before telling him, "I have work tonight. I need sleep. I'd appreciate if you turned the volume down a little."

His gaze focused ahead, Leon shook his head grimly. "Can't do that, man. I endanger my entire platoon if I can't be focused with all my senses for the kill….oh fuck…yeah shit! Get some, muthafucker!" Leon grinned and fired off a semi-automatic volley into the trees with a muzzle flash through the underbrush. "Gotta keep this shit safe for democracy, dude."

Leon's black hair was a tangled, slick mess. His chin was seeded with at least two days of beard growth. How he still managed to keep a job which paid his half of the rent and have a girlfriend was one of life's greatest mysteries. The game on the LCD screen was some new shooter I could recall him raving about with breathless enthusiasm. Its name eluded me.

Seeing him sitting there, the buttons of his controller clacking, I felt the desire to unplug the TV or pop out the disk. Restraining myself for the moment, I asked him about headphones, but I could tell the answer by the black headset he gestured to as he said, "I need to hear my teammates. No way around it. Gotta make sacrifices for the cause….oh you faggot! I saw that shit!" A pre-teen laugh echoed from Leon's headset. I gave up restraining myself and pulled the plug from the white power tap.

Leon screamed, "NOOOOOO!" in over-dramatic fashion. I sighed and shook my head. "We've talked about this before…" Still, Leon stared ahead, as though his gaze could will the picture back on the screen. After several seconds, all he could find to say was, "Not…cool."

I answered, "I need my sleep." At first, Leon didn't say anything to that, so I figured we were done and I could head back to bed. If he persisted, then I planned to commandeer the game disk.

As I was leaving, I heard him shout, "What do you have against shooters? It's like you're not even a dude with how much you hate them."

I leaned back and told him, "I don't hate them. I hate noise when I need to sleep."

Leon threw his controller down. "I think it's more than that. You've been really weird. You never want to watch wrestling. You're never around for any of the football games on Sunday or even the basketball games. Or the heavy metal music. Or action movie Thursday or anything on your waking hours. What's up with that?"

Glaring at Leon didn't help and I had no interest in rehashing his protests about how much "guy stuff" I rejected. "I have my things. You have your things. So long as those things allow me to sleep….I really don't care."

Still, Leon kept at it. "I mean I don't give a shit if you're gay. Even that's manly and shit. But you're always whining about how clean the place is and wanting to talk and discuss this and that. You don't even go stalk off to your cave or anything. It's like you're a chick…"

Rolling my eyes, I blurted out, "Okay. I'm a chick. And I'm going to bed. So keep it down in here or I'm locking your shooter game in my closet till I go to work." Then I stomped off and closed my door behind me.

The blankets were deeply inviting, despite their unkempt state. I cocooned myself in them, turned off the light, and pressed my head into the pillow. The living room remained blissfully quiet. It did sound like Leon was picking up the phone in the kitchen but I knew there was no one he could call who would matter. He could gripe to his friends about what a "chick" I was but I paid more than my fair share of the rent.

Sleep eventually greeted me with open arms, at least till I heard knocking at the door to my room. I considered pretending I wasn't there but the slow, even knocks continued.

I called out, "That better not be you, Leon…"

An unfamiliar voice answered, "No, sir. We'd like a word with you." The voice had a deep, authoritative feel. Lingering grogginess evaporated as a single notion surged into my brain, Leon, you moron! You called the damn cops because I turned off your video game?! It sounded so ridiculous that I immediately tossed the idea aside. Still, I paused at the doorknob before unlocking it.

The two men at my doorway were tall, easily over six feet tall with raw, tense muscular arms and chests. They were dressed all in black with dark hair. Their tops looked a little like see-through mesh. One of them sported a mustache which seemed like he'd swiped it from Freddy Mercury. The other had even slicker hair than Leon's with a boxy face reminiscent of some wrestler I'd seen Leon watching once. Their jeans were leathery and tight. I looked them over a minute and raised an eyebrow as I asked, "What is this?"

The guy with the mustache clenched his jaw (which made his mustache give a little wriggle like a fish) and told me, "Hey, dude. We received a report from Leon Hurt about suspicious, unmanly activities. Is your name Shelby Kettler?"

At first, I stared at the earnestness of the man's words. Then, I laughed. "Very imaginative, Leon. So are you going to arrest me for not being 'guy' enough?"

He kept completely serious as he continued, gesturing between himself and his partner, "I'm John Powers and this is Max Strong. We're with the Man Guard, dude." I resisted the urge to chuckle. For a moment. Then I let loose with wall-pounding laughter. Their names were as ridiculous as their appearance. It was all so over-the-top.

I clapped and yelled, "Good one, Leon!...But, in all seriousness, I need to get some rest. So, how's about I turn my penis in within five to ten business days in the mail or something?" They still didn't crack a smile.

Powers cleared his throat, pressing out his mustache like a raised porcupine. "Joking does weigh in your favor despite the suspicious quality of any man wanting to turn over ownership of his manly unit."
   
I took a breath and leveled my eyes. "Fuck…you. I won't be playing any more games. Leon had his fun but it's over." I turned to head back through my door but Strong's massive arm darted to block me like a bloated chin-up bar. Powers added, "No games, brother. This is damn serious. And you have a lot to explain to your fellow man."

At this point, I was beginning to get a little nervous. Not that this was the least bit real. However, I couldn't rule out the possibility of Leon calling a couple of heavies to scare me. I doubted they would put a hand on me though. Leon wasn't that stupid. He could be pretty stupid sometimes, so I took a step back.

I asked calmly, "Do you have any form of identification to…verify who you claim to be?" They reached deep into their pockets and retrieved their wallets. Both pulled out cards with their names and the words "Man Guard". The cards looked like something created to make any serious art major (like me) want to break down and sob in the corner. The color was on crack and acid at the same time. The font fought with itself and lost. A child could design something which made more sense. I clenched my eyes and shook my head as I asked, "What do you want?"

Powers asked me to confirm my name and I nodded with a hissing sigh. He reached into the pocket of his pants and came out with a small, paper tablet with a spiral top and read from it a list of offenses. Many of them were familiar claims Leon had just cited, as well as ones in the past. Then there were the creepy things like, "At age eight, you willingly let four girls perform a makeover on you." I couldn't imagine how they knew that. And that wasn't all.

They actually tracked particular instances where I cried and rated them on "degrees of effeminacy". More and more, I could only imagine that I had to be dreaming. I had been in bed. It was the only way to explain how they could know so many personal things. Pinching my wrist didn't seem enough to wake me. After the crying incidents, they moved onto body mannerisms.

I leaned against the wall and figured how best to wake myself up. Usually I could wake whenever I realized I was in a dream. I listened on and on till Powers came to what seemed like an end. Then, he flipped the page. I rolled my eyes and blurted out, "Fine! They're all true. I'm a girl in disguise. I'm a spy. Whatever. You caught me. Are we done?"

Both "guards" looked straight at me with their eyes narrowed. I curled my lips back and wondered if that'd been a mistake. This sure seemed consistent for a dream. Usually giant fish would amble by in the backgrounds of my dreams. I cleared my throat.

Powers took a moment to ask, "Are you bullshitting me or telling me the truth?" He seemed to hold his tongue before he could manage a "brother" or "dude".

Recanting my words sure sounded like a good idea. But I didn't do that. Instead, I asked, "What would you do to me if that was true?"

His arms flexed a little as he slipped his notepad back into his pocket. "Actually, making a false claim like that is just about as bad as outing yourself. So far as what we'll do…you'd be suspended from men permanently."

I raised my eyebrows. "No first warming?"

Slowly, Powers shook his head. "We take this shit seriously. Can't have those who don't belong calling themselves dudes. And it's not just the effeminate shit. We got plenty of soft, gay dudes who are plenty dude to the cause of men. It's about commitment to your bros. And you're not showing it."

It all sounded like bullshit and I let him know it. Strong made a note this time. I sighed and asked, "Now what?"

Powers leveled his eyes at me and said frankly, "You forfeit your Man Card and I dispose of it."

Holding out my empty hands, I quipped, "I must've left it in my purse."

All Powers did to that was point a beefy finger to my right pants pocket. I glanced down and noticed there was something poking out. Turning my head, I reached down and pulled out a small, blue card. On it, I saw a male symbol with my name. Powers seized it from my hand and tore it across the middle with a swift motion.

As soon as the card split in two, I felt very strange. Somewhere between falling and wanting to throw up. My entire body tingled. I backed away slowly till I came to the mirror over the sink and turned to look.

The face looking back at me was still my own, only softer and a bit rounded. No facial hair. And the hair on my head felt even shaggier than usual. Putting a hand to my chest, I felt immense relief that it was flat.

While I didn't feel any shorter, my body felt slimmer. By no means had my arms been muscular before, but now they felt narrow and flat too. The whole picture in the mirror was not even a young boy but more of a young girl who'd never been touched by puberty.

Searching lower, I gave a dark shiver. The familiar presence in my groin had gone numb. I couldn't believe it'd taken me so long to notice. Glancing over at the looming "Man Guards", I turned away from a moment of privacy before I traced a hand over my crotch.

I found nothing. Or just about. I rushed to the bathroom and sealed the door. With my sleep pants and underwear off, I grabbed a small vanity mirror I kept by the hamper and examined myself. Like so much else, my groin had been flattened. Not in a girlish way. In a doll-like way.

And, yet, I still hadn't reached the point of panic. That definitely supported the "dream" notion. No one ever freaks out in dreams. And there are plenty of mutilation nightmares.

Swallowing, I looked down at the mirror. Flat, featureless, hairless groin diving between my legs. Except for one thing. Low, nearly at the bottom, I found a pale-pink cleft opening for urine. I screamed.

The scream was higher than normal but was more like a kid's than a girl's. Staggering on my feet, I pulled my clothes on and lunged for the door. Some remaining rational sliver of my mind regretted closing it. If those heavies had vanished…

They hadn't. Both stood there in the same spot. Powers held a piece of paper out and explained, "You need to sign this." I gawked at them and their calm with quiet horror. In that childish voice, I asked/screamed, "What the fuck did you do to me!?

Powers moved closer and responded, "We've explained the matter of your ban from the male gender, Shelby. As a consequence of that ban, you revoke all rights to the attributes which constitute the male gender. That includes all major, manly effects of testosterone and male genitalia. The sex mark on your identification and other legal items are now blank." I noticed his slang-like speech had given way to an odd professionalism which unsettled me even more.

My question of, "How is this possible?" was quickly answered by Powers. "It's part of our authority and duties as guards of the sanctity of the male gender."

They seemed pretty patient with me and my questions, although all I could think of was the horror of what had happened. I pressed them, "Leon is an idiot! You came out and turned me into this all because I unplugged his damn video game and made some flippant comments?!" Powers reiterated the items from his list and added, "While it's not typically announced, you'd been on probation with other men for a while. This was just the first instance we had cause to speak with you personally. If all had gone well then there wouldn't have been cause to take the action we did. You just would've been given a written citation with areas to improve."

I turned to groveling though my sentiment felt exaggerated. "You can't do this! Please! Give me another chance! I'll belch and scratch and headshot and hold all my emotions in and whatever other shit you want me to do! You gotta give me another chance! Even just a harsh citation! Fucking shit…PLEASE!" I let loose plenty of cascading tears. Not being a man at that moment, I hoped with my heart throbbing in my ears they didn't count that against me. I clenched at their pants. They appeared unmoved, saying only, "We have a procedure to this. If you want to appeal, there's a procedure for that."

My eyes lit up. "Yes! I want to appeal. How? What do I need to do?!" But the light soon waned as they explained that procedure. It included "proof of restitution of offenses to man" witnessed by multiple men of good standing just to hear an appeal. Then several levels of "shows of manly fortitude and dedication". Sounded almost as challenging as stories of the Marines my grandfather used to tell.

I leaned back on my legs and asked, "Any other ways?" Their head shakes told me all I needed to know. "It's hard to get out of a ban. It's even harder to prove what comes with birth. You gotta live it or you gotta show it beyond all measure."  

Standing up, I swallowed and nodded my head. I asked, "Is there anything else?" Powers produced a slip of paper from his pocket and put it in my hand. "This is a pamphlet often given to the genderless. It should best explain your situation. But no, there's nothing more. We're through."

I glanced at the light-gray paper with dark text. It was nowhere as visually-offensive as their name cards. The title read, "You're Banned. Now What?" I wasn't ready to read further, so I just sighed and held it to my side.

Powers and Strong didn't give so much as a nod of their heads before they turned and exited together out the front door of the apartment. When they were gone, it was like the motions of life returned. I could hear Leon in the living room smacking his feet on the carpet while death metal filtered faintly through his headphones. I wasn't ready to talk to him either, so I made my way back to my room. According to the clock, it had only been about ten minutes since I'd staggered out to unplug Leon's game.

Putting the pamphlet down, I settled onto my bed and shut my eyes. I had the outside hope that falling asleep in a dream could wake me up. Sleep, however, was impossible with everything clashing in my head. I pressed the blanket to my face. The touch was quite sharp. I winced but kept the blanket where it was. As I tested more of my touch, I found it didn't quite feel erogenous but it felt nice. The rippling shivers were especially nice and soothing. Rubbing at the roots of my dense hair…now that got closest to orgasmic. But in a way more like an expert backrub. So much better though. The sensations lulled my fears away and drew me into a state of serenity through which sleep managed to sneak through.
Here's the first part of what has become an epic. ^^ Man Ban. Hope you enjoy.

Part 1 - Here.
Part 2 - [link]
Part 3 - [link]
Finale - [link]
© 2011 - 2024 majorkerina
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LupinKurt's avatar
as usual you know how to create the most bizarre yet amazing stories!