Shiko Unleashed

By William Speir

Riley Gordon is a young woman adrift when she experiences a life-altering event. Her parents, recognizing that discipline is needed to help Riley get past what happened to her, enroll her in martial arts. As Riley turns her life around, studying martial arts becomes her center. When a mysterious stranger offers to show her what true martial arts are, she accepts his offer. After she has learned all that he can teach, she travels to Japan to continue her education at the school where he was taught. There's only one problem: the school has never accepted a woman as a student before.

After convincing the school to let her in, she finds herself caught up in the ancient world of the shadow warriors, who have existed in secret for more than a thousand years. As she joins their ranks, she is sent on assignments around the world to bring justice to her clients, but not always in the way she expected or wanted. As she progresses in her skills and understanding of the arts of the shadow warrior, she reaches a level that few before have ever reached. In a world dominated by ancient traditions, will she be able to break through the male dominated hierarchy to reach her destiny so her power can finally be unleashed?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Progressive Rising Phoenix Press, LLC
• Release date: Mar 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781950560530

William Speir

William Speir is an award-winning author living in Texas. Raised in Alabama, he is a 1984 graduate of the University of Alabama at Birmingham. William retired from corporate life in 2009, after spending 25 years as an executive and a management consultant specializing in the human impact to change. He is also an amateur historian and Civil War artillery expert. In 2015, William signed with Progressive Rising Phoenix Press (PRPP) to publish his fiction and non-fiction works, which span the Action-Adventure, Historical Fiction, Science Fiction, and Fantasy genres. For more information about William’s books and book-projects, please visit his website at WilliamSpeir.com.

Book preview

Introduction

For all of my life, I have been fascinated with Japanese history and culture, Japanese martial arts, and the legends surrounding the Ninja (not the Hollywood version, but the historically accurate version). The rise of the Tokugawa Shogunate and the exploits and writings of Miyamoto Musashi have always intrigued me.

Throughout my writing career, I have written about everything that I have loved reading about and studying—Secret Societies, King Arthur, Vikings, Pirates, Ancient Egypt, Ancient Rome, Artillery, Fantasy, Science Fiction, and the Intelligence Service—except for Japan and its secret schools of Ninjutsu. With this novel, I correct that oversight.

I want to thank all of my loyal readers, without whom I would not enjoy the creative process of writing.

Thanks to Amanda Thrasher and Jannifer Powelson at Progressive Rising Phoenix Press for believing in me and my books.

Special thanks go to my editorial team (Ray Flynt and Jim Newman) for their patience and their valuable contributions, suggestions, technical details, and corrections.

Deepest gratitude goes to my wife of 22 years, Lee Anne, for giving me the freedom to pursue my passion. She is the love of my life. I am also grateful for my family, without whom there would be no words worth writing.

To Jim Duren, who taught me to do my best no matter what I was doing, and to practice, practice, practice.

To Dr. Stephen O. Glosecki, who encouraged me to write my stories and taught me the importance of research.

To the Masters, who keep the martial traditions alive for future generations.

And to my fans, who keep coming back for more.

Shoko

Chapter 1

Riley Gordon heard her phone’s alarm buzzing, but for some reason, she couldn’t quite pull herself from sleep to turn it off. The noise in her ear seemed so far away, but the pounding in her head was all too close. It felt like a jackhammer was trying to crack open her skull.

How much did I have to drink last night?

She lay in bed and pulled her pillow over her head, trying to block out the noise and the pain, but her mother’s voice pierced the walls of her room and the pillow pressed over her ears. Riley, it’s Monday morning! Get up or you’ll be late for school!

Riley reached over and turned off the alarm on her phone. She pulled aside the covers and sat up, feeling the pounding in her head grow worse. God, I feel like shit.

Glancing down, she noticed that she was still wearing the clothes she wore the night before.

Well, almost all of the clothes she had worn.

The denim mini-skirt and ribbed cotton tank top were still on, but a quick inspection showed that her bra and panties were missing. She looked around the room; they were not on the floor. Only the jacket she had worn was on the floor next to the chair at her desk.

Where the hell is my underwear?

She stood and walked over to her desk, picking up the jacket and hanging it on the back of her chair. Underneath was a sheet of paper, with the image of the dragon she wanted tattooed on her lower back as soon as she had the money. She put the paper on her desk; then she searched her room.

The underwear wasn’t there. She looked under the covers of her bed, but they weren’t there either. Glancing at the time on her phone, she decided that the search would have to wait. She stripped and threw the skirt and the tank top into the hamper as she crossed the room to her bathroom.

She hit the switch on the wall, and the lights above the mirror immediately blinded her. She squinted as she looked at her reflection. Her hair, which was usually a mess anyway, looked like she had stuck her head out the window as a tornado passed by. Her eyes were so bloodshot that it almost looked like she had pinkeye.

She opened the drawer next to the sink and pulled out her eye drops. After using twice the recommended dosage, she noticed that there were bruises all over her upper thighs and pelvic region. Plus her nipples were red and swollen.

She examined the bruises on her thighs. Those look like handprints. She turned and saw that the bruises went around to her back, and her butt cheeks were red and inflamed. The last time I saw my ass looking like that was after mom spanked me for taking $20 out of her wallet.

She shook her head, trying to clear the remaining fog. Why can’t I remember what happened last night? Bobby has always been a fun hook-up, but he’s never gone in for the rough stuff.

As she turned on the shower, Riley thought about where she had gone last night, trying to recall any of the details. Sammy Peters was a boy from school that Riley hooked up with when she was bored. Bobby Caldwell was another boy she hooked up with, and he and some of his friends were meeting up at Sammy’s house to drink beer and smoke pot. Riley didn’t like pot, but she liked beer, and she liked hooking up with Bobby. They weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend; in fact, they weren’t that close at all. It was just sex, and that’s all it would ever be. Bobby and Sammy weren’t the only boys Riley hooked up with when she was bored or horny, but the two of them were the only ones supposed to be there.

The hot water ran down her body as she continued trying to piece together the details from last night. She remembered arriving at Sammy’s house, she remembered Bobby getting her a bottle of beer from the fridge, and everything after that was a blur. She couldn’t even remember how many people were there besides Sammy and Bobby.

She finished washing herself and grabbed a towel to dry off. She ran a comb through her straight, brunette hair, pulled her long bangs to the right, and tucked them behind her ear. Then she put on clean underwear, still wondering where last night’s underwear was, and noticed that her breasts and vadge were sore and sensitive to the touch of the material. Knowing that there was nothing she could do about it, she threw on a pair of jeans that were torn at the knees, sneakers, a long-sleeve pullover shirt, and a denim vest. She went back into the bathroom to put more eye drops in her eyes before grabbing her phone and going downstairs to get breakfast.

Victoria Gordon, Riley’s mother, was pouring her husband a mug of coffee when Riley entered the kitchen.

Good morning, sweetheart, Victoria said to her daughter. You were out late last night. What time did you get home?

Riley grabbed an empty mug from the rack and held it out so her mother could pour coffee into it. Not really sure, Mom. Late.

You know we don’t like you being out late on a school night, Mike Gordon said gently as Riley sat at the table. We’re glad you have a social life, but school has to come first.

Riley nodded absently. As she sipped her coffee, her bangs slipped out from behind her ear and covered her face.

Victoria reached across the table and pulled them back into place. You have such a beautiful face and figure, Riley. Why do you cover them up? You should celebrate how beautiful you are.

Mom, I like not being noticed. It takes the pressure off trying to fit in. Riley tried not to sound exasperated. It was an old conversation.

Would it hurt to let some of your natural beauty shine through? her mother pressed.

Riley glared at her mom over her coffee mug. Mom…

Victoria held up her hands. Okay, okay, I’ll stop. For now. She changed the subject. Anything special planned for today?

Just a quiz in math.

Are you ready?

Riley grimaced. I’m always ready for math, Mom.

It’s just your other subjects that you never seem to be ready for, Mike chimed in.

Riley glared at her stepfather.

It’s true, Riley, he continued. Your grades are slipping across the board. We don’t want to interfere with your personal time, but if your next report card doesn’t show any improvement, there are going to be changes made around here.

Riley didn’t want to hear this again. She got up and rinsed out her mug. It’s kind of late to be playing the concerned dad, don’t you think? She picked up her schoolbooks from the stool next to the back porch door where she had left them Friday afternoon.

As she left the room, she heard her mother call after her, Don’t talk to your dad like that. And this conversation isn’t over, young lady. We’re going to finish it tonight.

No, we’re not, Riley muttered under her breath as she walked out the front door and headed for school.

Riley Gordon had been born Riley Aisha Mostafa, sixteen years earlier. Normally, that would make her a junior in high school but because of her birth date, she was only a sophomore. Her biological father, an Egyptian named Abasi Mostafa, had immigrated to Cincinnati, Ohio, five years before he met Victoria. His tanned Mediterranean features had caught her attention immediately, and Victoria’s pixie-like northern European features had done the same with him. After a whirlwind romance, they wed in a small ceremony, and Riley was born a year later.

When Riley was two-years-old, Abasi was killed in an attempted robbery, but she was never told whether Abasi had been the victim of the robber, or if Abasi had been the robber who was shot by his intended victim. She suspected that her father had been the robber; it would explain her mother’s reluctance to speak of him. Riley had no memories of Abasi, and as she grew older, that fact bothered her more and more. It was like a piece of her life was missing and replaced with an emptiness that she could never fill. One of her school counselors had suggested that this might be a contributing factor of her recent behavior problems.

Just before Riley turned five, her mother met Mike Gordon at the life insurance company where they both worked. They married shortly after that, and Mike adopted Riley, changing her name to Riley Elizabeth Gordon. Mike was a good man and a good provider, but he had no idea how to be a father—especially to a teenage daughter. He was so afraid of making a mistake that he ended up not doing anything, allowing Riley to do almost whatever she wanted with few boundaries and no discipline or responsibilities. Her mother tried to keep Riley focused on the right path, but Riley had become more and more withdrawn and indifferent as she entered high school.

Riley’s mix of Mediterranean and northern European ancestry produced a girl of exceptional beauty—something that Riley kept well concealed from everyone. She was 5’6", tanned, with a slender figure that would turn heads if she wore clothes that showed off her looks. It was for that very reason that she wore loose-fitting clothes to school and wore her hair in a way that covered most of her face. She didn’t want to be noticed, she didn’t want to turn heads, and she certainly didn’t want to be popular. She just wanted to be left alone, except when she wanted sex; but even then, she only wanted companionship on her terms, not on anyone else’s.

Riley made her way through the neighborhoods of Cincinnati’s Evanston suburb on her way to Walnut Hills High School. She normally made the walk with ease—in spite of the distance—but this morning she felt sore and hungover, forcing her to take a slower pace. The late October breeze chilled her as the leaves fell all around. Normally she loved this time of year—feeling the cool air on her face and watching the play of autumn colors on the trees, ridges, and hillsides around the city—but this morning it was just another distraction.

She heard her phone chime, letting her know that she had a text message. Looking at the screen, she saw it was from Becca Findley, her science lab partner. The message made her stop dead in her tracks.

"Have you lost your mind? I knew you liked hooking up, but I never knew you were this big of a slut. What were you thinking?"

Riley wrote back, What are you talking about?

Watch the video.

Riley was about to ask, What video? when she noticed that there was a video link at the bottom of the first text message. She opened the link and hit play.

Riley’s eyes went wide as she watched video showing Bobby Caldwell, Sammy Peters, and two other boys—Fred Blumenthal and Terry Jackson—taking turns having sex with her on the floor of Sammy’s basement. Her tank top was up around her neck; her skirt was hiked up over her waist; her panties were on Fred’s head; her bra was on Terry’s head; she was on her knees as the boys spanked and banged her nonstop.

Riley trembled as she restarted the video and enlarged it. None of them wore condoms! Those fucking jerks!

She watched it again, hoping to see a different face on the girl in the video. It was still her face. Then a thought struck her. If the four of them were having sex with me, who was holding the camera?

A more terrifying thought hit her a second later. Who else has seen this video?

She sent a text back to Becca. I have no memory of this. Who else has seen it?

A moment later, Becca replied, Everyone.

Riley’s heart raced as she stood there wondering what to do. Part of her wanted to run home and hide, but she also wanted to confront the boys and find out why they had done this to her. But more than that, she wanted to know who took the video and shared it with her classmates. As she started walking again, she became angrier. I’m going to fucking kill them. Why would they do this? And what did Bobby put in my beer that kept me from stopping them?

Her rage grew as she neared the school’s campus. She saw the Eagle mural on the side of the building as she turned onto Blair Avenue. Becca was waiting for her on the corner.

What do you mean you have no memory about what you did? she demanded.

I remember going to Sammy Peters’ house, I remember Bobby Caldwell getting me a beer, and I don’t remember anything else until this morning when I woke up.

You mean they slipped something in your drink and raped you? Becca’s voice sounded shocked and furious.

I don’t know, Riley answered, trying to calm down and collect her thoughts. But I’d never be able to prove it was rape.

Why not?

Because I’ve been hooking up with Bobby and Sammy since summer. They could easily say that this was just another hook up. And the video certainly doesn’t show me resisting.

But if you were drugged…

I’d have to prove who drugged me, Riley reminded her. And I’d have to prove that drugs were still in my system, which means I have to get tested, which means going to a hospital, which means my parents would find out.

Isn’t it better that your parents know? Do you really want those boys to get away with what they did to you?

I don’t know, Riley replied, the pain in her voice evident. I don’t know what to do. I can’t think straight.

Becca nodded slowly. What about Fred and Terry? Did you ever hook up with them?

Riley snorted. Those two? I wouldn’t hook up with them in a million years. Gross!

Riley saw Bobby walking toward her with a big grin on his face. Morning, Becca. Morning, Riley.

Riley didn’t even stop to think. She kicked Bobby in the nuts as hard as she could. He dropped to his knees in pain.

You fucking asshole! You drugged me and then you and your friends gang-raped me? How could you? And you recorded it and sent it to everyone at school? You mother-fucking-son-of-a-bitch!

Riley kicked him again. You tell whoever recorded that video and sent it out that if I find him, I’ll fucking kill him! Got it?

Bobby nodded, unable to speak. Riley started to walk past him, and then she turned and kicked him in the back, causing him to face-plant on the sidewalk.

She and Becca walked away from Bobby. One down, four to go, Riley muttered as Becca looked at her in amazement.

Riley had always considered high school to be hell, but that day took hell to a whole new level. For eight hours, she had to endure the snickering behind her back, the finger-pointing as she walked through the halls, and the curious glances from students she didn’t even know.

She couldn’t concentrate on her schoolwork, so she spent most of the day surfing the internet on her phone to look up information about what she should do, what she could do, and what the laws were concerning what the boys had done to her. There was a lot of information out there, but nothing that told her what she should do.

After hearing what she had done to Bobby that morning, Sammy, Fred, and Terry avoided her so they wouldn’t suffer the same fate. With no one to take her frustrations out on, Riley’s mood soured as the day progressed.

The only good thing that happened that day is that Riley discovered who had taken the video and sent it out. Danny Summerfield, the boy who was Riley’s very first hookup, had been at Sammy’s house and decided to record what was happening. I’ll make him wish he’d never been born.

Riley watched the clock on the wall, counting the minutes until school was out so she could get away from the looks, the whispering, and the other unwanted attention that she had been subjected to all day long. The moment the bell rang, she was out of her seat and heading for the door.

Danny Summerfield was waiting for her at the corner. How ya feeling, Riley? he taunted as she approached him.

Well, if it isn’t the child pornographer, Riley sneered as she reached him. Broken any laws lately about disseminating child pornography, ass-wipe?

What do you mean, ‘child pornography’? Danny demanded.

Riley had looked up child porn laws when she was surfing the internet. Are you forgetting that I’m only sixteen? That means what you did is a felony, and that means jail time. Just wait until the thugs in prison get a hold of you. It’ll make what happened to me seem like a picnic.

Danny laughed nervously. You’ll never go to the cops, Riley. You’d have to testify about what you did last night.

So what? Riley asked. Is there anyone at school who doesn’t already know about it since you so kindly sent out that video? Remember, all I did was have sex—non-consensual since I was drugged, but sex all the same. You recorded it and sent it out. What I did was stupid. What you did was criminal.

She looked at him, noticing that he was sweating. Why’d ya do it? Just because I stopped hooking up with you? I heard you had girls lining up after me, so why do this?

Danny stared at the sidewalk. Seemed like fun at the time, he mumbled.

Fun? Riley’s rage roared to life again. "Watching me get gang-raped and then sharing the video of it seemed like fun to you? What kind of sick fuck are you? And come to think of it, I didn’t see you in the video raping me. Why is that? You could’ve had your way with me, you could’ve even tried to stop them from raping me, but no… you just sat there, watching, and recorded what they did. What does that say about you?"

Danny gestured dismissively. Fuck off and die, you skank bitch!

As he turned to walk away, Riley went livid. She dropped her books and grabbed him around the shoulders, pulling him backward onto the sidewalk.

"Skank bitch? Skank bitch?! Who do you think you are?"

She started kicking him in the nuts, the ribs, and anywhere else that was exposed. She saw his phone in his shirt pocket and grabbed it.

Is this the phone you used last night? she demanded.

When he didn’t answer, she threw the phone on the sidewalk and stomped it until it shattered in a dozen pieces. Then she continued taking out her rage and frustration on him.

When she was finally exhausted, Danny was lying on the sidewalk with two black eyes, a bloody nose, a split lower lip, and bruises from head to toe. She picked up her books, looked at him, and spat in his face.

This is far from over, you fucking ass-wipe. If you tell a living soul that I beat the shit out of you, I’ll go to the cops with that video and have you charged with everything the law allows.

What about what you did to me? Danny spat blood onto the sidewalk.

You mean when you slipped and fell on the leaves on the sidewalk? If I get charged with anything, I’ll plead extreme emotional disturbance and do community service while you’re playing hide-the-soap as some thug’s new bitch. Is that what you want?

Danny shook his head.

"Then keep your mouth shut, never try to do anything to me ever again, and pray this ‘skank bitch’ doesn’t change her mind and turn you in anyway."

Riley stormed away, feeling slightly better about the day.

As Riley walked home, though, she thought about what waited for her the next day at school. Anyone who hadn’t already seen the video would have by morning. She’d no longer be invisible; she’d be the primary topic of conversation for weeks. She’d be labeled as the school slut, and nothing she did would change that.

I can’t go back there, but I can’t just quit school. And if I change schools, Mom and Dad have to get involved, and that means they’ll find out what happened. I can’t let that happen.

Riley walked on, wrestling with her thoughts. But maybe Becca’s right; why can’t they know? I can’t go back to Walnut Hills High… ever. I need their help to dig myself out of this mess. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t plan it. Those boys did it to me. Mom and Dad might not understand completely, but they’ll understand enough to help me get through this. It’s my only way out.

Riley turned the corner, all the while dreading how she was going to explain to her parents what had happened.

Riley sat at the kitchen table, waiting for her parents to get home from work. The ticking of the clock on the wall made her think of a countdown to a condemned man’s execution. She tried to do her homework, but she couldn’t concentrate. She just stared out the window, waiting to see her dad’s car turn into the driveway.

At five-thirty on the dot, her parents arrived home. What are you doing down here? Victoria asked when she walked into the kitchen. Riley normally did her homework in her room.

I have to talk to you, Riley answered. Both of you. It’s important.

Can it wait until we get dinner on the table? Mike asked as he entered the room.

Riley shook her head. No. Her tone let her parents know that this was something quite serious.

Victoria and Mike looked at each other and sat down across from Riley. Okay, Riley, Victoria said slowly. What do you need to talk to us about?

Riley told them everything that had happened at Sammy’s house the night before and at school that day. She didn’t go into graphic details about what was on the video that Danny took and shared with the other students at her school, but she did mention what she did to Danny and Bobby. Her parents listened without interrupting, but Mike appeared concerned, and Victoria looked sick.

When Riley finished her story, she said, I know my life has gotten out of control lately. I want to change that, but I don’t know how. And I don’t think I can go back to Walnut Hills ever again. I want help; I need help.

Victoria looked over at Mike, who nodded. First things first, he began, you’re staying home from school tomorrow. We’re taking you to the emergency room to get checked out—

We should also try to get you an appointment with a therapist, Victoria interjected.

Good idea, Mike agreed. Then I’ll talk to the Board of Education. We can probably get you transferred over to Withrow University High School. They’re pretty strict over there, so you’re going to have to clean up your act.

He gestured to Riley’s clothing. If you want respect, if you want to be treated like a young lady, you have to look and act like it. The way you dress says that you’re someone who’s just drifting along in life and doesn’t care what happens to her. That ends now. Agreed?

Riley nodded.

If you’re going to be given a second chance—a do-over—you’re going to take full advantage of it. No more partying, no more hooking up with random guys, and no more staying out until all hours on school nights. Those are the behaviors that got you here, and if you want us to help you, those behaviors have to go. Understand?

Riley locked eyes with Mike. She held his gaze for several seconds, and then she finally nodded.

Victoria chimed in. After we get you checked out at the hospital, I’ll take you to get a haircut, and then we’ll go shopping for some new clothes. That’ll make you feel better.

No it won’t, Riley thought. But it’ll make YOU feel better. Oh well, what have I got to lose?

And I’ll contact my attorney to see what our next steps should be, Mike added.

I don’t want to go to the police about this, Riley stated flatly.

But you were gang-raped, Victoria protested. These boys need to be punished!

And I let myself get put into that position, Riley countered. "Look, I hate what they did to me, and I’m not proud of myself for