The Keiko Conspiracy (non-futa)

Here we go, I finally got to the third chapter of The Keiko Conspiracy, and its another monster thirty five pager. I felt a little re inspired on this one after watching repeats of The Prisoner and the better parts of AMC's insipid remake. At any rate, this chapter gives a little bit of insight into who runs things in Moriyama. The first two chapters of this series were pretty popular, but I'm not expecting this one to be since it didn't come as smoothly as the others. The second sex scene wasn't originally planned, it just sort of happened as I was writing, she was there, he was there . . . well you get the idea.

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vivahardcover

THE KEIKO

CONSPIRACY:

FILE 003

By Hardcover

It was late afternoon, the sun was shining, people moved here and there coming and going with their business. People stopped to patron shops, buy food to fill their bellies or simply chatted about the day’s events. Couples chatted playfully, families dined together and laughed; friends hung out and exchanged stories all down the usual stretch of road, the main district in town where everyone sooner or later spent some time. Everyone was doing something; everyone was engaged in some kind of activity.

And I was following a dead man.

I slipped easily between the throngs of people, keeping an eye on my target up ahead, and making sure to be as natural and unassuming as possible; making sure that he didn’t suspect he was being followed. I had a slight advantage now in that respect, as not too many people would think to suspect a pretty eighteen year old girl in a school uniform. Of course, they had no idea that I was really Tako Mitzuhara, an experienced intelligence operative, some how and inexplicably transformed into Keiko Yamato, school girl. Yet, that was the case, and I was having to learn how to live in the body of a teenage girl.

It wasn’t easy, I had just developed my first school girl crush on my classmate Makoto, and I was still getting used to the idea. But it was impossible to deny how I felt about him. We’d just exchanged phone numbers and the simple act of doing that had made my heart do a complete pitter patter. I had it bad for him, that was the short and long of it. Damn this eighteen year old body and its silly school girl emotions.

A shook my head and tried to focus on what I was doing: Following a man who was supposed to be dead; a man who used to be my old friend Bruce Anderson.

The Path Of The Dead Guy

Bruce Anderson had been a top notch operative for the American CIA, a fact that usually conf