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From kmcclure@goldrush.com Thu Feb 19 17:32:56 1998

DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "The Boy In The Attic."

[Disclaimer: This text is intended for adult audiences, if you are 
not of age to view it, be somewhere else.  This series of stories 
explores the darker aspects of the human experience, if that might 
offend you, then you were warned, and it isn't my problem. -- KTM]

        Anything can happen in the Multiverse.  Even a world that
is much like ours, but which somehow... isn't.  A world that is a
magnet for the blackness in the dreams and souls of humankind.  A
world known as: The Darkside.

        The World's economic system depends on a delicate
interlocking system of mutual trust and financial debt.  When
those bonds shattered, the governments and monetary institutions
crumbled.  Even the most idealistic civil servants left their jobs
when their families were gripped with hunger.  The Survivors of
the Chaos would come to call their nation the United States of
Anarchy.


Chapter 1.  "The Boy In The Attic."  -- by KTM.


        Robbie crouched in the attic, his fist pushed deep in his
mouth.  This sort of thing just didn't happen in Iowa, not in one's
own home.  The brigands were in the house, and if they knew he was
there, they would kill him, just like they'd killed his dad.
        He was close to wetting himself or crying because he
realized that he'd screwed up.  When he scrambled to the attic,
he'd left the rope dangling down for the attic steps.  He could
hear heavy clomping foot-steps in the hallway, and rough voices
arguing about checking the attic.
        Robbie was a small, dark haired boy, even though he was
almost 13.  He looked around in fright for another place to hide. 
Then he saw it, the air conditioning vent!
        He'd been in there before, just a few months ago.  Dad had 
asked him to help clean the air filters.  It was a large old house, 
and it was hard to get at them without paying for a service call. 
Robbie had saved them enough money that he'd gotten to chose the
kind of ice-cream they bought for a month.
        He crawled over to it and checked to see if he could still
put his hands between the slats.  Quickly he unlatched it, then
turned to pull some boxes over to conceal the vent.  He slipped
inside, and set the grate back in place.
        First latch, and the second closed.  He reached to the
other side and stretched his fingers.  Third latch done.  Light
poured up into the attic from the steps the men had pulled down. 
Robbie froze, his fingers just about to stick through the slats
again.
        The boxes kept him from seeing the man, and the boy thought
it was probably a good thing.  Sweat streaked down his face as he
fought to quiet his fast breathing.  He flinched as the man stomped
around, kicking boxes of stored junk, and shining his flashlight
into every corner.
        The invader muttered curses in a steady stream, that broke 
into a snarl when a man down in the hall yelled for him to tell
what he saw.  "Just some fuckin' Christmas tree lights, Skull," he
shouted, "and a lot of dust.  Can I come down now?" he said
petulantly.
        "Yeah, Red," the voice answered, "c'mon, the fun's
starting."  The light retreated and Red started down the steps. 
And behind his shield of boxes, Robbie felt brave enough to reach
for the last latch, and snapped it closed.  Snap!
        "What was that?  I thought I heard something," Red said. 
He paused with just his head in the attic, and shone the flashlight
again to the corners of the dusty space of the room.
        "Aw forget it," Skull's voice said, "these old houses are 
always making noises.  You didn't see anything, did you?"
        "Well, no," Red said.
        "Then c'mon, Red!"  Red's light faded, and with a thud the 
attic stairs were closed again.
        Robbie heard a feminine squeal through the ducts, so he
turned around again, and quietly crawled through the metal tunnels
to the 'T'  junction.  At the junction he waited, until he heard
his sister whimper on the left, and he followed the sound.  He had
to see what they were doing to his teenage sister, and his mother.
        The duct ended in a grate set in the ceiling of his
parent's bedroom.  It was a big room, and most of the brigands were
crowded in here, along with the two women of the house.
        His mom was curled up on the side of the king sized bed 
crying, with her hands clutching her slap-reddened face.  The men
were ignoring her for now, and were tormenting her 16 year old
daughter on the bed's other side.  They were playing with Sissy,
tearing off her clothes and telling her all the obscene they would
do with her.         
        Robbie watched in mixed horror and fascination as his
pretty sister was stripped naked.  Boy, he thought, she sure had
big tits!  The men stripping her grabbed her tits and squeezed
them, mauling them painfully.  Sissy cried both in pain and
humiliation.
        "She's nice, Skull," one of them said, "but I wonder if
Mommy is any good still?"
        "Well, go find out, Bear," the tall man said.  He was bald, 
and rail thin.  His skin was stretched tight on his craggy bare
face, clearly showing the bones that lay underneath.
        The man who'd asked about Robbie's mother was heavy set but 
burly.  He sported greasy black hair and a dark shaggy beard.  He 
looked to the boy like someone out of Dad's Bikers & Babes
magazines.
        He reached out with a meaty had and yanked on a handful of
Mom's hair, making her yelp.  "Strip, you old cunt," he growled,
"or I'll do that to your little girl!"
        "You will anyway, bastard," Mom said sullenly, trying to
pull away from him.
        "Oh, we'll fuck her good," he said, "But we don't have to
hurt her much, unless you don't do what we say.  So do it now,
bitch!"
        Robbie's mother sat up, and started to take off her
clothes, still quietly crying.  The boy didn't know what to watch,
his sister's forced fondling or his mother stripping herself.
        One of the men put a long finger into Sissy, and pronounced 
her cherry, while another ditched his clothes to show his hard
cock.  He grabbed Sissy's jaw and forced it open by the cruel
pressure of his fingers.  He hissed to her that they'd cut her
mother open if she bit him, so she'd better suck him good.  Then he
jammed his cock into her mouth.
        Mom had taken off her blouse and her red lacy bra, and the 
burly man stepped forward and started squeezing her slight sagging 
tits.  She unbuttoned her jeans and started to push them down, all 
while keeping her head turned away from him, but he stopped her. 
He freed his fat cock from his greasy pants and pushed it at her.
        "Suck it, slut!" he said, pulling her to him by her
breasts.
        Robbie felt his own small dick swell at the sight of his
mom and sister sucking the cocks of these horrible men.  He flushed
with guilt, but he couldn't turn away.  He'd never seen anything
like this.         
        The man named Skull seemed to be their boss, "Go suck the 
girl's twat, Red," he said to the red-headed teenager who stood 
gawking at the scene.  "I want her good an' wet when I go to pop
her."
        The skinny teen made a face, but he kneeled between the
girl's spread legs, loosening his pants so he could free his cock
while he licked her.
        The burly man clutched Mom's hair in his fists and was 
vigorously fucking her mouth.  Suddenly he jerked and pulled her
lips tight against his bush with a groan.  Robbie watched a drool
of white spill from her mouth when Bear pushed her back.  "Now get
naked," he ordered, and slapped her when she didn't move fast
enough.  He nodded for another guy to take her mouth next.
        Sissy was being pinned by four men.  Two identical men were
pressed against her sides trapping her arms while they slurped at
her big tits.  Red held her legs while he ate her, and the last man
was kneeling over her neck while he fucked her face.
        Red and the two sucking Sissy's tits were stroking
themselves off while they molested her.  One of the twins yelled
"Shit!" and sprayed cum in the air and on the her side, while his
brother was only a second or two behind him.  The man on her face
bellowed a laugh as he came and moved off of her, and the next man
eagerly climbed onto his place for his turn at raping the girl's
mouth.
        On the other side of the bed, Robbie watched his nude
mother get thrown down, and a man cover her with his very hairy
body.  He still wore his boots and a leather vest that said "Wolf", 
but nothing else.  His style of fucking included mauling her tits
and biting at her face while he humped on her, thrusting inside her
over and over.
        Robbie couldn't stand it anymore. He reached inside his
pants and grabbed his penis, squeezing and stroking it while trying
to be as quiet as possible.
        Man after dirty man raped his mother and sprayed down
Sissy's throat, before Skull seemed ready to join the game himself. 
Red had jerked off onto the girl's legs while he sucked her, but
was still ready for more.  Skull pulled him away from Sissy, then
pushed him at Robbie's mother.  "You can fuck her," he said.  Red
blubbered his thanks.
        The kid jumped on Mom and thrashed around looking for her
hole while the men laughed at him.  Finally Red's cock found her
cunt and he started frantically fucking her to the shouted
encouragement of his fellows.
        Robbie muffled a gasp in the duct, as a hot drop of liquid 
escaped his small cockhead.
        Sissy was held down by the men, while Skull stood in
between  her legs, and took off his clothes.  He had a very large
cock if the others in the room were anything to judge by.  He
looked down at Sissy and stroked it to hardness.  She looked
terrified, but he merely  smiled at her.
        He got up on the bed and laid his prick's full length on
her belly while she tearfully shook her head.  Skull slapped her
sharply, and as she gasped in shock, he leaned back and brutally
thrust inside her.  Her next breath was a piercing scream of pain.
        "There!" he said.  "I popped ya good, little virgin.  Now 
we'll all be fucking you, with me being first.  He pushed himself
in even deeper, and with the third stroke he was all the way in. 
She whined with every push of his cock, and he seemed willing to go
on fucking her forever.  He was doing her slowly, keeping up a nice
even stroke.
        Both of Robbie's hands were playing with himself now.  His 
vantage from the ceiling let him see every perverted thing they
were doing.  He could see the red stain on the bed between Sissy's
legs, and when Red finished, how Bear moved over to fuck his mom. 
        Mom was grunting with every hard strokes, and the bearded
man kept riding her until she cried out in mixed shame and
pleasure.  "Yeah bitch," he said.  "You're cumming, you dirty slut! 
Hear that, girly?  Yo' mama likes being raped."
        "Good job, Bear," Skull panted.  "I mean to make this cunt
the one to cum next!"
        "No!" wailed Sissy, but she was also starting to pant from
the machine like thrusting of the monster dick inside her.
        Bear finished, after making Mom cum again.  Another of the 
brigands started fucking her, but she wasn't fighting much anymore.
Her hands clawed at the brute on top of her as he rammed his way to
shuddering orgasm inside her sopping cunt.
        Bear looked admiringly at the boss, and joked to the
others. "No one's got control like our Skull does, he could go on
for hours.  Taught me everything I know.  Soon they'll both be our
fuck toys, 'til we decides to move on."
        Robbie's eyes were locked on his sister's flushed face.  As
he stroked his dick in time with Skull's thrusts, he could track
her emotions.  Horror, anger, shame, those were easy to see.  But
there was another expression he could feel on his own face.  A kind
of... reaching expression as her body began to build to some kind
of release that neither she nor Robbie had ever known.
        He flicked his eyes over to his mother as she finally broke 
her silence.  "Oh, God," Mom cried, beyond shame.  "Harder, faster! 
Oh, fuck me now!"  Robbie had never seen that look on her face, or 
ever heard her say things like that.  It made his cock pulse
harder.
        He looked back at his sister as Skull started talking to
her. "Sounds like," he grunted, "your mom's getting into the spirit
of it.  Why don't you," another grunt, "just relax and join the
fun."
        "No!" Sissy shouted, and then she chanted at every thrust. 
"No.  No.  No.  No!  NO!"  Her body started twitching in time to
the merciless thrusts.  "Nooooooooooooo!" she screamed as her body
spasmed hard around her rapist.  She looked dazed at the
sensations.
        "Mother fucker, she's tight!" Skull yelled, and drove
through the girl's first vaginal orgasm.  He leaned down and kissed
her mouth.  Sissy kissed him back, arms coming up around his neck. 
Then her eyes widened in realization.  "No!" she said again and
tried to push him from her, making him laugh at her feeble attempt.
        He began to speed up, and her white-knuckled hands clenched
on his arms.  Robbie's hands sped up as well.  In his frenzied mind
it was him on top of his sister.  She was surrendering to him... He
couldn't believe the feelings his little dick was giving him.     
        Instead of 'No', his sister was saying 'Oh' every time
Skull pushed into her.  He was doing her fast now, and she was
getting louder.  Several times she came, screaming in
shame/rage/ecstasy before Skull growled, and yelled "Take it!" as
he sprayed his sperm inside her.
        In the air duct in the ceiling, Robbie bit his lips for 
silence as his prick shot a trickle of white against the metal wall
next to him.  It was the first time he'd ever come.
        Skull slipped out of her, but not before licking and
kissing her engorged nipples as she lay there quivering.  "Fuck
her, Bear," he said.  "Then all the rest of you, too.  I wanna get
a taste of Mama."
        He rolled over to the older woman.  "Can I fuck your cunt, 
Mommy?" he begged playfully in a high voice.  "All the other boys
get to, so can I pleeeeeeeeease?"  He laughed, and pulled her
upright, so she could lick off her daughter's blood and juices from
his cock, and get him hard again before he started plowing her.
        He kept taunting her, calling her mommy and talking dirty
to her in a boy's voice.  He kneeled between her legs and made her
stuff his big prick insider her.  "Ooo, Mommy!  Your cunny's so
wet," he teased.  "I bet you want me to fuck you bad, don't you?" 
        "Yes," she gasped in something that might have been lust, 
and arched her back to take him.
        "Then I wanna see you french your daughter," he snapped 
coldly, pushing her head towards Sissy.  "Lick her tongue, 'Mommy'.
Kiss her dirty."  The two women began to wrestle tongues while the
thugs fucked them.
        Robbie's cock twitched again, and he pinched it softly.  He 
wanted to feel that sensation again.  But when his eyes wandered 
around the room below him, he saw a pile of clothes lying on the
floor, and near it, the vicious gun he'd seen earlier today.
        He remembered his daddy standing on the front porch with
his loaded shotgun.  Daddy told the strangers to go away, they had
no food to spare.  He saw again the flash, as one of the brigands
leaned from around the corner of the house, and shot him from
behind with the big pistol.
        He knew he had to get out of there.  Sooner or later he'd
make a sound and one of their guns would kill him, too.  They were
all through the house, so he didn't go back to the attic.  At the
'T'  junction of vents, he turned the other way, crawling across
the length of the house.
        Near the back porch was the main outside vent of the air 
system.  He could look out of it and see his backyard.  It looked
so normal he almost started to cry.  Tears did start falling when
Robbie saw his dog in a pool of blood, near the back gate, but the
boy made  no sound.
        He unsnapped the lower latches and waited until the light
began to fade.  Before dark, he slipped out of the vent, and
carefully moved to the big shade tree on the south side of the
house.  The tree was almost 5 foot away from the edge of the roof,
and none of the larger branches hung over.
        He had only one chance, and it was do or die.  He had to
risk the jump before nightfall or he wouldn't be able to see well
enough to judge the gap.  He screwed up his courage and made a
desperate leap over the yawning space to the tree.  He grasped the
bole of the tree with barely a rustle of leaves and clung to the
it, waiting for night.
        Robbie tried to ignore the cries of his family.  The sounds
of tears, spanking, and of sex.  He hated himself for enjoying what
he'd seen, and for wanting to do it again.  He shook in fear and
shock in the tree for a long time after dark.  The house was mostly
quiet before he could make himself slip down of the tree.
        He snuck out of his yard, and ran for the woods.  He headed
straight for Indian Cavern.  All the kids of the town were
forbidden to explore in the cave, and it was posted with all kinds
of warnings.

        Robbie hoped that no one would look for him there.  He
hoped he'd be safe.


To be Continued.


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From kmcclure@goldrush.com Thu Feb 19 17:33:39 1998

DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "Indian Cavern."

[Disclaimer: This text is intended for adult audiences, if you are 
not of age to view it, be somewhere else.  This series of stories 
explores the darker aspects of the human experience, if that might 
offend you, then you were warned, and it isn't my problem. -- KTM]

        Anything can happen in the Multiverse.  Even a world that
is much like ours, but which somehow... isn't.  A world that is a
magnet for the blackness in the dreams and souls of humankind.  A
world known as: The Darkside.

        The World's economic system depends on a delicate
interlocking system of mutual trust and financial debt.  When those
bonds shattered, the governments and monetary institutions
crumbled.  Even the most idealistic civil servants left their jobs
when their families were gripped with hunger.  The Survivors of the
Chaos would come to call their nation the United States of Anarchy.


Chapter 2.  "Indian Cavern."  -- by KTM.


        Robbie had been spotted.  He'd left the caves to go into
town yesterday to scrounge some food, and had come back at a run. 
He heard men yelling after him, telling him to stop, but by cutting
through the shortcuts all the town kids knew, he got to the caves
before them.
        He hugged the back wall of the area he'd explored, and 
listened to echoes of voices at the mouth of the cave.  Robbie
prayed they wouldn't come in, but his stomach when he saw the
flashlights beginning to shine inside the first chamber of the
cave.  He heard them tearing the boards away from the entrance. 
They couldn't squeeze through the place where the planks gapped
like he could.
        "You'd better come out here, kid," a gruff voice shouted to 
him.  Robbie identified it as Bear's voice.  "If we have to come in
and get you, we'll kill ya!"
        Robbie didn't answer, but instead he started feeling his
way back as quick as he could to the inky shadows where he hadn't
explored yet.  He didn't dare use the electric lantern he'd found
in the cave, that was tied to his belt.  He would just have to feel
for a way to escape.
        A shiver ran through him.  He thought of the many stories
told about the caves.  The ghost stories, and tales of how the
first white explorers had found an Indian's skeleton, stretched out
in the act of trying to leave the caves.  The cavern was the
favorite subject of local campfire creep stories.  There was a
whole century of speculation about what exactly 'did in' the dead
Indian passed down from one generation to the next.
        His heart pounded in his chest as the light level behind
him got brighter.  They were inside the caves now.  His hands found
a low, small tunnel that seemed to go back some way.  As he
hesitated, he  heard footsteps on the loose rocks in the middle of
the outer chamber. Robbie turned and quickly crawled into the tube.
        Lights flashed past the entrance of his tunnel as he
scrambled to get even deeper.  "Hear that?" Bear said.  "Little
bugger's nearby. Find him!"  The lights kept playing around, until
one shot in Robbie's tube, outlining him against the rocky walls.
        "There he is," Red said.  "It's a real small hole, though.
Can't I just shoot him and we can leave?  They say things about
this place that I don't like."
        Bear rumbled, then said, "Naw, go in there and drag him
out.  You're small enough to go after him."
        The boy kept pushing into the tube, listening to the teen 
curse several body lengths behind him.  The ground gave slightly
under his small hand, and it stayed sunken in.  Robbie froze for a
minute, until he felt Red reach to touch the heel of his sneaker
with his outstretched fingertips.  Robbie moaned.
        "Damn!" Red said, "Can't quite grab him!"
        Robbie lurched forward, desperately trying to scramble
beyond the soft spot, and banged his head on the rocks that closed
off the tube.  He was left with his whole weight on the weak floor,
and unable to retreat.
        "No!" he cried as the floor crumbled from under him.  He
fell for what seemed like forever, flailing as he tried to grab
something. Robbie landed with the sound of a wet stick breaking and
a searing stab of agony in his leg.
        "Mother puss-bucket!" Red shouted, praying, for he was just
short of the dark hole that had swallowed up the boy.  He inched 
closer, peering down along his flashlight beam.  It spotlighted the
still form of the boy at the bottom, one leg bent at mid-shin.
        "He's a goner, Bear," he called back.  "He fell down real
deep and he's all busted up.  Go ahead and pull me back."
        "You sure he can't get out?" Bear said to him.
        "Just as sure that I can't go get him," Red answered. 
"Trust me, he'll be dead real soon, if he ain't already."

        Robbie was inclined to believe him.  Things looked bad. 
He'd played dead while Red checked on him, and passed out for a
while after the lights and voices faded.  He pulled the lamp from
his belt and pumped the handle for as long as he could.  When he
turned it on, he could see that he was in a big cave, so big the
ceiling was dim to his faint light.  The hole he fell through was
just a shadow to his eyes.
        There was smaller chamber attached to this one, just a
niche in comparison, and he could hear water trickling in there. 
It took a long time before he was thirsty enough to try, and even
longer for him to finally make it to smaller space.
        He wet his mouth with the mineral laden trickle.  The lamp
had stopped working, or he wasn't pumping it enough for it to
activate, he couldn't tell.  He wasn't even sure he cared anymore. 
At least it was warm here.  There was a soft heat pouring from the
back of the smaller cavern.  He was starting to feel sleepy...

        <Boy,> said a distant voice.  <Awaken.>
        "Leave me alone," Robbie said.  "I just want to sleep."
        <Will you sleep your last, Boy?> the soft voice persisted. 
<I can support you for a time.  Open your eyes, and then listen to
me.>
        The boy looked around.  In the back of the niche, about
twelve long feet away, was a cluster of crystals bigger than he
was.  It glowed with a soft amber light.  Dimly within it, he could
see a black Rod, like a softball bat with big nobs on the heavy
end.  The weapon was over four feet long, and it radiated a feeling
of power and menace.
        <Take me up, Boy,> the voice whispered to him.  <You can
just reach in and draw me forth.  Untold power and majesty will be
yours if you do.>
        "I'm not King Arthur," Robbie giggled, a little
deliriously. "I can't pull the Rod from the stones."
        <And I'm not 'Excalibur', but nonetheless, I can make you
a king.>
        "I wouldn't have a kingdom.  This is America; no kings."
        <No Government either, but with me you can make a kingdom,
and have whatever else that you want.  What dark desires lie in
your heart, Boy?  Tell them to me, and if you've the strength, I
can make them come true.>
        Robbie thought of himself, a boy short for his young age as
a king, trying to hold up the dark Rod, and shook his head,
rejecting the ridiculous image.  "It won't work," he said.  "I'm
too little."
        <Ah, but what if you were grown?> the voice asked.
        In the boy's head another image formed, of himself, but
older.  In his mid twenties, tall, muscular, and chiseled; his
build was good enough to make a superhero jealous.  He had a shock
of thick black hair and piercing black eyes.  He carried the Rod
effortlessly, and under his blue jeans, his crotch had a bulge to
match his heroic proportions.  
        <I can make this happen, and give you that body if you just 
take me in your hand.>
        As Robbie reached out in a haze his leg shifted, and a stab
of ripping pain stopped him.  "Ow!" he cried out.  "If you're so
powerful why don't you heal me first?  Then I'll pick you up."
        <It doesn't work that way.  You have to touch me before I
can work any changes on you.  You have to choose me.>
        "But it's too hard to move," Robbie complained.  "Can't you
do something to help?"
        <If you don't get over here, you will die.  Soon.  If
worldly wealth and power or even physical prowess are not enough to
induce you to move, what will?  Not even the threat of your
imminent death seems insufficient.  What will make you fight your
pain and grasp your destiny?>
        "Wait a minute," the boy said.  "Why are you in there?  Why
aren't you giving someone else the power if you're so great?"
        <I can only bestow the power on the being who touches me
with the intent to take it.  Those were the rules Raven and Coyote
made when they banished me here long ago.  They didn't like the
influence I was having on their people.  You are the first since
that time to make it this far.  You aren't much, but you are all I
have to work with.>
        "Raven and who?," Robbie said.  "And gee, thanks so much."
        <What makes your passions great?  What makes you angry?>
        "I guess the brigands do," Robbie said.  "They killed my
dog.  They shot my dad, and they... hurt my mom and sister.  I wish
I could just... break them in half!"
        <You can, you know.  That wish can come true.  Let me show 
you.  Only your imagination can limit the power.>
        In his mind the boy saw his man-self confronting the
brigands, with the Rod in hand.  Bullets bounced off him, and
knives were useless.  The big man Bear charged the image, and his
older self's free hand plunged into the thug's chest and with a
spray of blood, ripped the still beating heart out and crushed it.
        Red yelled defiantly at him, so the Dark man pulled back
the Rod like a ball bat and swung.  The teen's head went flying
off, trailing gore.  Next was Skull's turn.  Robbie's dream self
pointed a finger at him and the gaunt man burst into flames,
reducing him to a standing skeleton before crumbling into a pile of
ash.
        The hairy man Wolf turned into his name sake, and fled. 
The rest of the brigands either ran away, or kneeled in obeisance
to their new lord.  The black crowned man turned, and looked over
to his house.  Mom and Sissy were safe on the porch, waving at him.
        <That would be fun, wouldn't it?  Mastering your enemies,
and becoming the ones that other fear?  Is that reason enough for
you to come?  To be a warrior, one must often suffer first.  Come
to me, come and be strong.>
        "Maybe," Robbie muttered.  "I'll try."  He crawled some
more, dragging his leg as carefully as possible.  The slope of the
floor changed to a steeper angle, and the bones in his broken leg
rubbed at the break.  Robbie turned white and gasped.  He panted,
lacking the energy to scream.
        "I can't go on," he said.  "This has to be good enough."
        <It isn't.  You have to reach in and touch me with your
hand.  What else is there that you desire?  What was that dark want
that crossed your mind during the last vision?  Something about
your family?>
        "No!  Get out of my head!" Robbie moaned.  "You can't look 
there."  He grabbed his head as if he could use his hands to shut
out the insistent voice.
        <A trace of guilt and conscious at last, Boy?  But not a
very strong one, I see.  Let's look at that again, and if you love
your life, don't fight me.>
        Once again his strong-self stood triumphant over his
enemies in the arena of Robbie's mind, scarcely marred by their
blood.  No longer was he the victim of bullies like the guy in the
strongman ads in comics.  Now it was he who inspired others to run
away, to fawn on him for favor.  It was a great feeling, but it
wasn't enough...
        Robbie snapped his eyes open.  He knew what it wanted. 
Knew what the last stain was on his soul, the one that at last 
would make him surrender.  For as long as he could, the boy fought 
the vision's insistent call, but he couldn't fight his own urges as
well.  With a sigh, he gave in and let his eyes close once more.
        ...Victorious, the Dark man turned again and looked toward
his house.  Sissy and Mom stood naked on the porch, smiling and
waving to their rescuer.  In the vision his pants swelled with a
hard-on that would make men cry and women swoon.  It was as super-
human as the rest of him, and he wanted to use it on them.  He
could pretend that the girl wasn't his sister, or the woman his
mother.  They wouldn't know, the Dark man didn't look anything like
little Robbie Black.
        He walked to the house, leaving the brigands behind him. 
But this time they would not be the ones to despoil his home, it
would be him.  He remembered all the little petty annoyances of
family life.  His sister "borrowing" his radio without permission
and lying about it.  His mom grounding him for breaking a window,
when it was Kenny that did it, he could get even with them now.  He
could do to them what the bad men had done, what they had seemed to
enjoy so much...
        <Oh, such a dark desire.  That was quite a thing to see, 
wasn't it?  So strange, and so exiting.  Do you remember how you
felt when you came with your little cock?  I can promise you that
the pleasure will be magnified with the size of your dick.  If you
want to fuck like a man, little Boy, get over here, and touch me.>
        Robbie gritted his teeth, and crawled over to the crystals.
It was three foot away, but he moaned, and got that distance down
to one foot.  He reached out, and touched the crystals.  They
tingled to his fingers, and with an extra pressure, like pushing
into clear jello, his hand passed through them.  He reached for the
still black Rod, and missed!  Bare inches separated him from his
goal, but it was still too far.
        It was just too much for the boy, Robbie collapsed from his
strained position and started crying.  He cried until he couldn't 
anymore, then lay there, feeling his tear tracks dry on his face. 
The smell of the dust he lay in tickled his nose, but he was too
tired to care.  It was very quiet in the cave, except the erratic
drip of water, from what seemed like miles behind him.
        <Boy, it had better be soon.  Try again!  Try harder!>  The 
voice was louder, it snapped at him, galvanizing him with it's tone
alone.
        He grabbed a chunk of crystal, and pulled hard, screaming
as he jostled his leg.  His chest was pressed against the cluster
of crystals.  Now, all he had to do was reach out.  But after all
his pain and effort, something he couldn't fathom made him
hesitate.
        <Take me up, Boy,> it said softly.  <And all that I
promised will be yours.  Boss of your town, Master of your state,
King of America, Emperor of the World!  Fuck anyone you want, even
your mother and your sister, I don't care.  You just have to
choose.>
        "Forgive me," Robbie whispered to that unknown impulse, and
he reached out and grasped the Rod.
        Fire arced through him.  The crystals turned to molten
glass, and crawled up his arm like a living thing, burning his
flesh.  The Rod fought the Wards, and tried to heal his leg at the
same time.  It raised itself up, his hand still firmly grasping it,
and smashed down on the crystals, extinguishing the fire.
        Abruptly his arm and leg felt better.  Then a stinging, 
enveloping feeling covered his whole body, forcing his eyes shut as
the world blurred.  His heart was pounding in his chest, but it was
much stronger than he ever remembered it.
        He stood up easily, nude and magnificent in the suddenly 
smaller chamber that was now lit up by the Rod.  Raising his
handsome head, he could see the small hole in the ceiling that he'd
fallen through to get in here.
        "I want to see myself," he said, and was startled by the
deep, rich tone of his voice.  A field shot from the Rod, and it
mirrorized.  He saw in the reflective surface the man-self from the
visions.  His hand roamed over the body, and confirmed to him what
he saw.  Especially his cock!  He let go of the Rod and it floated
before him.
        A far cry from the little dick he'd just had, this massive
piece of meat looked bigger flaccid than Skull did erect.  He
rubbed his hands over it, stroking it, pulling on it.
        "Show me my memories," he commanded, "what I saw through
the vent in Mom's room."
        One last time he heard the voice, <The Rod is a part of you 
now, like your eyes or your hands.  You don't need to speak to it,
anymore than you need to tell your hand to bring a spoonful of food
to your mouth.  Just imagine what you want to do, and *you* can do
it.>
        The surface rippled, and he could see once again his sister
and mother, thrown on the big bed and ravished by human trash.  The
scene was just as riveting to him as it was before, and it had the 
same effect on him.  His new male appendage swelled, turning red
and then purplish with the engorgement.  It stood rigidly of it's
own accord, sticking straight out from his hard body, bobbing
gently to his pounding heart beat.
        He cupped his scrotum, feeling the heavy balls move in
them, brushing over the light coating of short dark hairs on them. 
He ran his fingers through the heavier growth above his cock, and
then began to pay homage to the star of this show.
        It took a hand as big as the one he had now to wrap around
the shaft.  The size didn't quite compare to the ebon artifact in
front of him, and the purple head was shy of being as big as his
closed fist. Still, he was very pleased with his new tool.
        He gripped it below the head, slowly pulling back the loose
skin, to reveal the head fully.  With his other hand he rubbed over
the tip, spreading the thin lubricating fluid around liberally.  He
pushed his hand forward just as slowly, and made a small noise of 
pleasure at the minor stimulation that the first stroke provided.
        With his eyes locked on the sordid scene, he stroked
himself leisurely.  When his mother surrendered to the over-
stimulation, he sped up his pumping.  Then he watched once more as
Skull fucked his sister, timing him strokes to the gaunt man's
thrusts again.
        His sister succumbed to the forced orgasm, and he went
faster still.  Finally as Skull came, the Dark man also shouted
"Take it!", spraying the image with gobs of white.  It made the
surface ripple, like raindrops onto pools of water, dissolving the
pictures into chaos, that resolved into his own reflection once
more.
        "I'm not Robbie anymore," he said, a little breathless. 
"My name is Robert, Robert Black.  And the whole world is going to
pay for fucking up my life!"
        It was time to go, he took hold of the Rod again.  He had
to extract an installment on the enormous debt the universe owed
him, and which he now had the means to collect.


To be Continued...


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From kmcclure@goldrush.com Thu Feb 19 17:34:34 1998

DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "Robert's Revenge."

[Disclaimer: This text is intended for adult audiences, if you are 
not of age to view it, be somewhere else.  This series of stories 
explores the darker aspects of the human experience, if that might 
offend you, then you were warned, and it isn't my problem. -- KTM]

        Anything can happen in the Multiverse.  Even a world that
is much like ours, but which somehow... isn't.  A world that is a
magnet for the blackness in the dreams and souls of humankind.  A
world known as: The Darkside.

        The World's economic system depends on a delicate
interlocking system of mutual trust and financial debt.  When those
bonds shattered, the governments and monetary institutions
crumbled.  Even the most idealistic civil servants left their jobs
when their families were gripped with hunger.  The Survivors of the
Chaos would come to call their nation the United States of Anarchy.


Chapter 3.  "Robert's Revenge."  -- by KTM.


        Deep in the bowels of the Indian Cavern, Robert Black
looked up, taking the ebony Rod in hand, and disappeared in a swirl
of darkness.  He re-appeared in his front yard, surprising three
members of the gang who were sitting on the wide porch.  They
jumped up, one of them drawing a gun and shooting at the naked
intruder.
        The bullets bounced off Robert's bare chest, and he stopped 
to smile briefly at the success of his invulnerability trick.  With
a wave of his hand, he made them fall unconscious.  He stepped up
on the porch and picked up the gun, crushing it in his hand.
        Two more men came out the front door to check on the source
of the gunfire, and they fell down as well.  They didn't even have
a chance to gawk at the nude Adonis standing in front of the door. 
Robert waved the Rod over them, to ensure they would not awaken
until he decided.
        The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.  He was
standing right where his father had, the day he'd died.  He whirled
like a cat, and fired a bolt of midnight energy at the brigand
named Bear, who was leaning around the corner with his pistol just
like he had last time.  A hole appeared in the heavy man's chest
that Robbie could have thrown a softball through.  With a hoarse
gurgle, Bear dropped.
        Glass shattered as gun muzzles were thrust through the
front windows on either side of the door, firing bullets
continuously at  Robert, which missed.  Most of them hit a barrier
shield around the Dark man, and fell softly to the porch.
        He crossed his arms and waited out the first hail of
bullets, then opened the front door, and stepped inside.  The men
on either side of the door turned and fired at him.  The
projectiles passed through him, and their gunfire riddled each
other instead.  Both of them slid down in pools of blood.
        Another thug sitting on the living room couch caught his
eye.  He seemed to be torn between fleeing the room, and reaching
for the gun just out of his reach.  With a thought from Robert, the
brigand lapsed into the quiet coma the men on the porch enjoyed.
        Three of the unwashed men stepped into the living room from
the broad main Hall.  They carried the heaviest weapons that the
gang had.  One of them had a street sweeper; a vicious black little
gun that auto-fired dozens of shotgun shells from a fat round clip,
like one from an old time Tommy-Gun.  There was a fully converted
AK-47, and Mr. Black's pump action shotgun.
        The roar of their gunfire echoes loudly in the old house,
and Robert scowled.  With a brusque gesture, he made the bullets
flying at him turn in midair without losing any of their velocity,
and slammed back into the would-be assassins.  They fell dead, and
Robert crumpled all the guns in the room into abstract
paperweights.
        He reached out with his mind, and located the others.  He 
spotted three of them running in the backyard, heading for the
gate. They were nearly at the spot where his dog Sammy had been
killed.  They fell while running, slipping into a coma that not
even the act of skidding to a halt on their faces could disturb.
        Robert walked past the bloody corpses at the entrance of
the Hall, and went to his mother's bedroom.  Skull stood there,
holding a gun to Sissy's head, with his other fist wrapped in her
lank auburn  hair.  "Get out of here, you scuz," the gang leader
hissed, "or I'll blow her brains out!"  Sissy was sobbing, and her
mother was lying unconscious on the floor.
        "No you won't," Robert said quietly.  The pistol flew out
of the leader's hands and into his own.  He crushed it easily. 
Skull felt himself let go of the girl's hair without his volition,
and step in front of the naked man.  He was powerless to fight the
compulsion.
        "Why did you come here?" Robert asked.
        "It was Red," Skull said woodenly.  "He said there would be
food and females here.  We just hadda kill the man and the kid.  It 
sounded like a good deal to me, so we came here, and it was just
like he said, until you came.
        A spark of realization lit the black eyes of the big man,
but he focused back on the victim before him.  Skull had changed
his life, and Robert meant to remember him for it.  He laid the Rod
along one side of the lean man's chin, and his hand along the
other:  Black fire roared over the brigand's body, consuming it
totally.  All but the now fleshless skull that Robert now held.  It
was an interesting  souvenir, but for now he dropped it to the
floor.
        Sissy was sitting besides her mom's still form, trying to 
bring her around.  She hadn't really watched what the Dark man had
done to her tormentor, but she looked up at him in fear.  Robert
gazed at her naked body for a moment, his cock hardening in
anticipation. Her eyes widened at the huge penis, but then flicked
to the side, at a bit of movement behind him.
        The hairy man named Wolf had crouched in the closet,
watching his boss's incineration.  Now he crept up with a big
hunting knife, and jabbed it deep in the side of the enemy.  Robert
gasped at the brief surge of pain, but then frowned as he willed
his body to expel the blade and to heal itself.
        Wolf snarled as he fought to jam the knife in deeper, but 
Robert turned, clenching his free hand over the brigand's sinewy
wrist. He made Wolf let go, as the blade pushed out and clattered
to the floor.  He hesitated, on the verge of killing his attacker,
but then he relented and knocked him out, instead.  Wolf might be
useful to him later.
        But before he could play, there was one last worm to sniff 
out.  Robert snagged wolf by the scruff of his biker vest, and
dragged him out of the room and left him there.  Then he went to
the back hall and pulled down the attic stairs.
        "Red," his deep voice called.  "Come out!   Don't make me
come in and get you, Rodney."
        The teen was too craven to answer.  Robert floated up to
the attic, remembering so well just days ago, when their positions
had been reversed.  He found the scared teenager, huddled in the
corner in a puddle of his own urine.  Robert took his arm and
pulled the incoherent and flailing kid to the hall below.
        "Why'd you do it, Rodney?" Robert asked.  "You live in this
town.  Why'd you wind up with this scum?"  He slapped Red, to
silence his blubbering.
        Tears started flowing down Red's face, but he started
talking,  "They were so strong and cool!  They said I could be too. 
I just had ta point 'em at good targets, that's all.  And they said
I could join in with them.
        "Why'd you pick the Blacks?" Robert insisted, needing to
know, but somehow already knowing.  "What did they ever do to you?" 
        "Mr. Black was the manager of Halden's Grocery, where I
used to work," Red said.  "His little brat saw me snitching stuff
from the store, and tattled to his daddy.  I really needed that
job, the  bastard didn't have to fire me like that.  I hated the
little runt,  too.  I'm glad they chased him into the cave to die."
        White hot rage exploded through Robert.  All this pain had 
been for that!  Without thinking he reached down and rended the boy
apart with his bare hands, silencing his piercing screams.  Soon he
was quiet.  As quiet as his dog Sammy was, or Robert's dad.
        Robert was splattered with gore.  With a sweeping gesture,
he was clean, and the bodies were buried.  The house was repaired
with the skull as a new decoration for the mantlepiece.  Lastly the
ten coma victims were laid out on the side porch, the house was
quiet once more.
        He went back to the bedroom.  His mom was awake, and she
was clutching Sissy's hands as they waited in dread for what would
happen now.  Their hair hung limply, and the looked unkempt as
sloppy from constant use.  "Let me clean you," Robert said.  With
a wave of his hand, they were washed, but he left them nude.
        "Who are you?" his mom asked.  "What do you want from us?" 
        "My name is Robert, he said.  He let his desire show, and
it hit them like a physical wave.  "And what I want is a little...
gratitude from you."  He put the Rod down on the dresser, and stood
before them.  They watches his massive cock come to twitching 
attention at their gaze.
        Mom was trying to fight the mild compulsion, but Sissy
seemed fascinated with the pulsing cock-meat before her.  Both
women had been constantly subjected to sexual stimulation since
their home was invaded.  Robert wasn't quite coercing them with his
newfound powers, but he was wanted to seduce him, and his desire
was influencing them.
        "What are you waiting for?" Mom said, bitterly.  "Why don't
you just rape us?"
        "Because I don't have to," the Dark man said.  "You know
that I could, I took out the whole gang with little effort."  He
reached out and caressed the auburn hair of his sister.  He let his
hand drift down to the side of her face, to the hollow of her neck,
and then give a good squeeze of her full young breasts.  She was
startled at his casual boldness.
        She shot a guilty glance at her mother, but then leaned
into his warm hand.  The strange man wasn't hurting or degrading
her, and there was something fascinating about him that she
couldn't define.
        Sissy looked at his face.  He was handsome in a familiar
way. Sort of like her father crossed with Tom Cruise, but built to
Arnold's scale.  He didn't look angry or cruel like the brigands,
but she could feel the hot desire that showed in his dark eyes.
        Her eyes dropped to his ready cock.  There was a glistening
drop of pre-cum at the tip, and she swallowed hard, unsure if she 
should resist the desire to taste it.  She leaned forward, wetting 
her lips.
        "Susan!" her mother said, grabbing her arm, but the girl 
didn't care.  She laid a soft kiss on his cockhead, touching her 
tongue to it.  His hand came down to gently stroke her face.  Susan
trembled, his gentleness effecting her in unexpected ways.  It was
so arousing in comparison to the brutal, painful treatment given
her by the invaders.  She went to sucking on his cock with a will,
revelling in the feelings it gave her, and somehow knowing in her
bones that this man would never harm her.
        Maggie Black looked in amazement at her daughter's actions.
He wasn't forcing her at all, and her daughter was blowing him with
amateur gusto.  Her eyes met his, and they were warm and hungry. 
Her groin began to wet at the look, and should begin to understand
the way her daughter was acting, and her evident arousal.
        "Come on, Mo-... Maggie," he said softly, reaching with his
other hand to stroke the older woman's cheek.  Tears gleamed in her 
eyes as the sudden realization came to her that the Dark man would 
never allow them to be harmed.  With him, they would be safe in an 
uncertain and dangerous world.
        He hugged her to his side, and she cried softly against
him. A smile of irony crossed his face, but he held her tight, and
patted her hair.  "It's alright," he said, "you'll be safe now,
with me."
        Susan moaned, squirming.  The feelings she got sucking this
big cock were making her feel so hot.  The smell of her desire
reached the other two.  
        Maggie knew that if she wanted, he would let her pull away, 
but she wasn't sure she wanted to.  This was the man who had
punished her husband's killers.  She'd seen them kill Dennis, and
they'd bragged they'd drove her son Robbie to his death.
        A few weeks ago she wouldn't have done it.  But a few weeks
ago, the dollars appeared strong, and law enforcement officers
still tried to fulfill their duty to 'serve and protect'.  She'd
heard that the country had slipped into chaos, but she hadn't
really believe it, until faced with the proof.  If they wanted to
be safe, they needed a strong protector, and no one seemed stronger
than this man Robert.
        She needed a last assurance.  "Will you ever leave us
alone?"  she asked.
        "Not as long as I live," he said.  "I swear it.  The two of
you are mine, forever."  Susan hummed her approval on his cock.
        That raised more questions in Maggie's mind than it
answered.  "But, why?" she said, puzzled.
        "Because I don't want to share you," he said with a
lecherous grin.  "You'll have my children from now on."
        "Children?  Oh, god," said Maggie, "Susan.  What if she's 
already...?"  Her eyes reflected a mixture of disgust and worry.
        Robert dropped his hands, laying his palms on their
bellies. He could sense the sperm of the brigands inside them, and
destroyed it all.  He sought to know if they were pregnant, and
found his answer.  "Neither of you are pregnant... yet," he said.
        He thought of something else.  He knew what incest was, and
had heard jokes about stupid or deformed children.  He closed his
eyes and wanted to know what problems they would have bearing his
kids.  He could see none.  In fact, he was scarcely related to them
anymore.  His genetics had been substantially altered, making some
of the various gifts he now had, things he could pass on to his
offspring.
        He felt it was time to give Susan what she'd been working
so hard for.  He put both hands on her head, and pumped her face
with care.  He wanted him to be able to handle his load, and to her
amazement, she could.  It seemed sweet and heavy, like a sexual
drug, so unlike the bitter seed of the scum who'd been raping her.
        Robert smiled at the older woman, waggling his eyebrows at 
her, in friendly seduction.  "It's your turn, Maggie.  Get on the 
bed."
        She laid down, quivering.  She was surrendering her body
freely to a stranger, and it was exciting.  He kneeled between her
spread thighs, bending down to suck in one of her nipples.  He
brought up a hand to gently maul her other breast, then began
twisting the nipple.
        Susan crept behind him, and licked at his dark, hanging
nuts. She gave them little kitten licks all over, and even sucked
the balls into her mouth gently.  Robert satisfied his desire to
suck on his mother's tits, bringing up both hands to squeeze them,
and leaning on her a little more, while Susan's attentions quickly
made him stone hard again, and pulsing with eagerness.
        It turned him on that only he knew that he was brother and
son to these women, or at part of him was.  On top of the acts he
was performing for the first time, breaking the taboo of incest
gave him an extra thrill.  Maggie shifted under him, his hard cock
was digging painfully in her belly.
        "Do it now," she pleaded, pulling his head from sucking her
nipple so she would see his face, and look into his dark eyes.
        "What do you say?" he asked with a playful smile.
        "Please, fuck me!" she said.  "I want a real man's cock,
I'm so tired of those animals in me."
        "It will be my pleasure, and yours, too," he said.  He
slipped back a little and pushed his rigid meat to an angle where
he touched his tip to the swollen labia of the woman who had born
him.  With a hard thrust, he filled her, sliding deep inside her
sopping cunt.  He leaned down again, and continued to nibble on his
mother's nipples as he gave her his cock in easy, powerful strokes.
        Maggie moaned as he pushed himself inside her.  He was so
very big, and so strong, too.  Strong enough to continue
stimulating her tits while keeping up a steady pumping movement of
his big cock in her vagina.  Her daughter crawled up besides them,
and kissed her passionately, unable to resist the need to be
involved.
        Robert willed that Maggie's fertility cycle would change,
so that this fucking would knock her up.  The mere thought that his
seed would make a child grow inside his mother's womb made his skin
shiver in white-hot desire.  He started fucking her harder.
        The last time, he had just watched at they were conquered,
and now it was he that was making them surrender.  His mother was 
welcoming him into her cunt.  Her hands and legs clutched at him, 
trying to get bring him deeper and closer.  Her body was racked by
strong orgasms, and she moaned his name.
        As her body began to comply to his will, his senses told
him of a fertility problem with his mother.  It was the reason why
she'd tried and failed to have more kids after him, but it was
something that he could fix easily enough.  He wanted no
difficulties with this pregnancy, so he even mitigated some of the
effects of her aging.
        "You are going to have my baby from this," he told her.
        "I... I can't.  Not anymore.  Not after Robbie," she
sobbed, her emotions bared to him.  "Something was... torn inside." 
        "I healed you, Maggie," he said.  "You will have more
babies now.  *My* babies!  I can see how you have so longed for
more, and now you will have them."
        "Oh lord, if only that could be true," she said through hot
tears.
        "Look at me!" he ordered, and he locked eyes with her. 
"You know I'm telling you the truth."
        If he'd thought his mother was a good fuck before, now she
became a wild woman.  She bit and clawed at him, urging in on with
language that would make sailors uncomfortable.  She goaded Robert
to a more vigorous level, astonishing her daughter in the process. 
        The big man couldn't take much more of his mother in this
state.  That she was so eager for his baby nearly drove him to the
point of madness.  He gripped her arms tight and plowed her with
great intensity.  He made himself last until he thought she could
take it no more, then sped up to make her come once more.
        While Maggie was in the throes of her orgasm, he cut loose 
with his.  Feeling him spasm inside her, knowing what would result
of it was too much for her.  She screamed in fulfillment, and
slumped suddenly under him.  He withdrew from her, and scanned her
with his powers.  Maggie was fine.  She was just overcome with her
passion.
        Susan looked with fear and wonder at the dark energy 
enveloping his hand as he ran it over her mother.  It felt... 
dangerous.  Those black eyes turned to her, and she shivered; half
in fear, half in a strange desire.
        "She's fine," he said gently.  "It was all a little much
for her."  His expression turned passionate, "It's your turn now,
isn't it little one?"
        "Yes, sir," she said in a school-girl's voice.  She 
desperately wanted to have the fucking her mother had just gotten.
She leaned back on the bed, and held out her arms for him.  He came 
and pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her tightly. 
She was falling in love with him, and felt safe with him.
        While Robert was kissing her on her face, her mouth, her
neck and firm breasts, part of him was thinking that only he had
such wonderful gifts.  It was a shame he was the only one with
them.  He remembered those sly words, 'Only your imagination limits
me', and grinned suddenly.  He could give others powers, and he was
going to do it.
        He started sucking Sissy's nipples, enjoying her hands 
gripping his hair.  He sent his power out across the world, seeking
what potential lay in the human race for extra-ordinary gifts.  To
his surprise, there was a lot.  Whole family clans had some strong
active talents that he didn't immediately understand.  They used a
power that he'd never heard of, but he could exponentially increase
the amount of it, and their use of it.  He'd find out what that was
all about some other time.
        A small percentage of people had minor, but active psychic 
gifts, like the girl who shuddered in his arms.  He reached down to
play with her clit as he looked deeper.  Susan seemed to a kind of
empath, which seemed to go a long way to explain her reactions to
his lusts.  Many people had small latencies for psionics, and he
could open the flood gates that would enable more people to utilize
their  mind's full potential.  She squirmed at the stimulation of
her clit, panting with need, and began chewing on his ears.
        What surprised him the most was that more than 60 percent
of the planet's population had a potential for what some would call 
superpowers, or Lamarkian mutations, but for the most of them were
deeply latent.  He closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment. 
By the time he rocked back and began entering his sister's young
cunt, he was ready to change the world.
        As he pushed into her, making her moan as he stretched her
more than anyone ever had, he sent a pulse that would bring those
with highly latent powers to the surface.  Many would find out
about those powers in the near future, and more would activate as
they hit  puberty.  In the next generation, even more would have
them.
        This pulse gave a kickstart to those psionic gifts, too, 
making the average psychic far stronger.  Even those active clans
would be effected, both from the new availability of their energy, 
and in their enhanced ability to use it.  Susan looked up at him
curiously as he did it, having felt the thrumming pulse of energy 
flow through her.
        Robert wasn't worried about getting his sister pregnant
right away, he knew that it would happen soon enough, and she was
young yet.  He did start to focus far more on what he was doing, in
order to make sure that she would have the most fantastic sexual
experience she'd ever had.
        Her empathy surged to full strength, and he allowed their
intimate connection to forge a small bond between them.  Her eyes 
widened as she identified the familiarity of the man busily
thrusting his massive cock inside of her.
        "Robbie?" she said incredulously.  It couldn't be true. 
This Dark God of a man just couldn't be her bratty little brother!
        He raised a finger to his wide lips.  "Shhhhh, Sissy," he
said with a wicked grin.  "You don't want mommy to know her only
son just knocked her up, do you?"  He lowered the admonishing
finger to flick her swollen nipple.
        She pushed on his chest futilely.  "You!  You're awful, get 
off me!"  She was upset, but only half struggling with him.
        "Aren't I just?" he chuckled.  "And I'm not going to stop
fucking you, Sis.  That link of yours is two-way, and I can see
that you're just as turned on as I am about this.  Aren't you?"  He 
started thrusting his cock even harder, making her cunt spasm 
violently around it.
        "Oh god, Robbie," she said.  "How in the world...?  Oh,
don't stop.  Keep fucking me!"  Her fingers dug into his muscular
arms.  He kissed her deeply and she responded with no reservations.
        "I guess you could say that I sold my soul," he said. 
"It's the only thing worth selling these days, and it sure seems
like I got a hell of a deal."  He smiled at his unintentional pun. 
"What do you say that I finish giving you the fucking of your
life?"
        "Yes!  Oh, Robert, do me."  Susan couldn't wait to see to 
what heights that he was going to take her.
        He bore down to pump her hard and fast, thinking his
intense lust at her, and seeing her respond in return.  The
empathic link to him made Susan almost as passionate as their
mother's craving for children had made her.
        She was such a different woman, but he enjoyed her body as
much as he had Maggie's.  He brought her to a fantastic climax, and
roared his completion in turn.  He held her tight afterwards, as
she continued to shudder for some time.
        It wasn't long before she stirred and asked for more. 
Robert was happy to oblige her, for he'd just sensed the conception
of his first child.  He smiled, he could get to enjoy this kind of
life.


To be Continued.


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From kmcclure@goldrush.com Thu Feb 19 17:35:33 1998

DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "The Dark Palace."

[Disclaimer: This text is intended for adult audiences, if you are 
not of age to view it, be somewhere else.  This series of stories 
explores the darker aspects of the human experience, if that might 
offend you, then you were warned, and it isn't my problem. -- KTM]

        Anything can happen in the Multiverse.  Even a world that
is much like ours, but which somehow... isn't.  A world that is a
magnet for the blackness in the dreams and souls of humankind.  A
world known as: The Darkside.

        The World's economic system depends on a delicate
interlocking system of mutual trust and financial debt.  When those
bonds shattered, the governments and monetary institutions
crumbled.  Even the most idealistic civil servants left their jobs
when their families were gripped with hunger.  The Survivors of the
Chaos would come to call their nation the United States of Anarchy.


Chapter 4.  "The Dark Palace."  -- by KTM.


        Early the next morning, Robert went out to the side porch,
where the ten men awaited him in a silent deathly slumber. He
wished to gain their allegiance, and failing that, he had decided
that he would simply kill them.
        "Awaken, Wolf," he ordered.  The hairy man groaned, and sat
up.  He stiffened when he saw the Dark man standing there, dressed 
in black; jeans, shiny leather knee-boots, and a fine silk shirt.
        The only color to his apparel was a royal blue full length 
cloak and fat gold ring, set with sapphire pieces in the form of a 
four pointed star with concave arcs between the points on a
smoothed oval surface.  His belt buckle and a cloak clasp had an
enameled copy of the same design: a blue star with four points,
slightly over lapping a gold oval over a black rectangle.
        The big man's hands held a bare human skull, and the big
black club he'd had the last time Wolf had seen him.
        "Now your leader matches his nick-name," Robert said, 
tossing him the bone.  Wolf caught it, but quickly set it down.  He
got to his feet, on his guard.
        "Almost half of you are dead," the big man said.  "The rest
of you will join them if you don't swear to serve and obey me."
        "Why should we?," Wolf said, seeing the too-quiet forms of
his erstwhile fellows.
        "Because I'm going to need men who can get things done," 
Robert said.  "As long as you obey me, I'll tolerate you.  You will
all leave Maggie and Susan Black alone, as I have claimed them for
myself."
        "You don't expect us go without fuckin', do you?" Wolf
complained.
        "Hardly," Robert laughed.  "My appetites are large, but I'm
sure that there will be plenty of females available for the needs
of my troops.  You seem to be the highest ranked survivor of the
gang. Do you think they will follow you in my service?"
        "Dunno.  What makes you think that I'll listen to you,"
Wolf said to him with a surly tone.
        "Because I can give you Powers to match your name," Robert
told him, and sent him an image of a feral wolf-man, snarling and 
baring long, sharp fangs.  He jumped lightly from the ground to the
top of a car, and jumped from there into the middle of a knot of 
angry men.  With claws and teeth he inflicted a lot more damage to 
them, than their knives and metal pipes did to him.
        Wolf shook off the vision.  "Yeah, right.  And how you
gonna do that?" he said.
        Robert tapped his chest.  "Do you think I looked like this
before I found the Rod?  You'll be less powerful than I, as your 
master, but you will dominate the others.
        "And what if I just took your toy?" Wolf said, grinning.
        "Here," Robert said, and tossed it to Wolf, who caught it.
        "God Dammit!" Wolf cursed as the Rod's dark energy flare
seared the skin of his palms.  He threw it down, and it jumped of 
it's own accord into Robert's hand again.
        Robert told him, "It's become a part of me.  No-one can use
it until I'm dead, and it's made me Immortal.  The World is stuck
with me, but I don't really need you.  Serve me or die, the choice
is yours."
        "Ok, it's cool.  You' the man," Wolf said.  "You' the boss,
but I am gonna need some serious stroke to be your lieutenant.  Can
you really do that man-wolf thing?"
        "See for yourself," the Dark man said, and he threw black
fire at the other man.
        Wolf screamed and it quickly turned into an agonized howl.
Robert watched as his face stretched, and his legs curved back, 
destroying his shoes and ripping his clothes.  His body sprouted a 
thick forest of fur, and he rapidly morphed into the form that 
Robert had tempted him with.  It was soon finished, and the mutant 
rose, shaking off his pelt like a wet dog.
        He looked at his fur arms, and clawed hands, raising them
to feel along his massive jaws.  "Oh, cool," he growled, "I'm a 
werewolf!"
        Robert's hand shot out and grabbed him by the throat, 
lifting the big beast-man off the ground, and squeezed just hard
enough that Wolf's windpipe started to close off.  The creature
flailed in his grip for a moment in panic, futilely scrabbling at
Robert's arm and kicking in the air.  Robert released him, and fell
with a heavy thud.
        "I... I get your point," Wolf choked, coughing and clearing 
his throat.  "Please lay off."
        "Just as long as you obey me," Robert said.  "Now change 
back, and wake up the rest of them.  Tell them that I will kill
them if they don't work for me.  If you let them get out of hand,
I will kill *you*.  Got me?"
        Robert waited on the front porch for them to make up their
minds.  he didn't think it would take long, not with those options,
and not with Wolf's visible evidence to show them of their new 
master's power.
        One of them was stupider than most.  He ran for it after 
Wolf changed forms, and tried to escape the backyard.  He burst
spectacularly into flames, turning into a human pire that spun
about before collapsing into a smoldering heap of ashes.  Wolf and
the other eight came around the corner not too long after that.  It
had been an offer they were not allowed to refuse.  
        Robert sat calmly on a big wooden chair.  "You're all
scum," he said.  "But I need you, for now.  I can't let you loose
without supervision.  If you were worth anything, you wouldn't have
been molesting this family.  So either you are my warriors, obeying
my orders precisely, or you die.  It's not a hard choice."
        Wolf bent his knee to Robert.  This dog already knew his 
Master.  The others reluctantly followed suit.
        "Good," the Dark man said.  "These badges have my symbol on
them.  While you wear them on my business, you have a certain 
immunity to bullets.  You'll need it.  I want you to go to every 
home and building in town, and inform the folks who live there that
they are required to go to the Palace on the hill above Indian 
Cavern.  What Palace?  The one that will be there by the time you
give the word to them.
        "You are not to use any force.  You'll have a feeling about
who hasn't been told, so you can cover everyone.  What if they
don't come?  Not your problem.  You are the messengers, and that is
all."
        "Just tell them to go the Palace," Wolf said.  "Not for
who, or even why?"
        "That's right," Robert said, and sent them on their way. 
He didn't want to live here anymore.  The good memories of the
house, were more than outweighed by the horrible events of the last
week.
        In a flash of black light, he disappeared, and materialized 
on the scrubby hill that rose slowly from the ranches at the edge
of town to dominate the surrounding landscape.  He made the rock
flow and form into supports for the vast weight of the Palace he 
envisioned, but leaving most of the cave system intact.
        Once he had strengthened the hill, he poured a vision of 
every elegant edifice he'd ever seen, or which he now scanned 
throughout the world, into a dream of dark grandeur made real.  He 
rose in the air and stood in a huge throne room of black basalt and 
obsidian.  Different textures and shades of black were the backdrop 
of the room; jet, onyx and ebony.
        The throne itself was a massive slab of translucent blue
stone with heavy gold trim.  On the wall above it was a large
banner with his symbol prominent.  Filling most of the vast space
between the great doors of the grand entry-way and the many stepped
dais of the throne was inset into the floor a four-pointed star
shape, inlaid with a gold border a foot thick.  The room's high
arcing dome sported a skylight star that matched the size and shape
of the one below, but tilted by forty-five degrees.  It was the
shape you find in the center of a square filled with four circles,
one in each corner.
        He walked to his throne, and sat awaiting his people. 
While he sat, he furnished areas of the Palace, starting with his 
quarters.  He sent a thought to Maggie and Susan to gather their 
things, he had a new place for them to live, away from the memories
of the house.  Next he outfitted the kitchens and staff quarters, 
and the dungeons.
        To make their arrival easier, he created a broad, smooth 
road linking the edge of town with the Palace grounds.  He also put
signs in the Palace to make getting to the throne room from the 
Outer gates uncomplicated.  Those who came had a hard time seeing
where the hill was.  The Palace flowed over it's sides like a dark
cancer to the foot of the hill.  Tall spires reached high into the
sky above, and quiet caves still lurked beneath.
        It took over an hour, but about a third of the town's 
several thousands filed into the great room, feeling dwarfed by
it's dimensions.  The great doors closed, and Robert addressed
them.
        "Thank you for coming, My name is Robert.  I have appointed
myself the authority of this town, on the basis that I am more 
qualified to run it than anyone else.  My qualifications for the
job are the ability to provide food, goods, and services the
community needs, and the power to protect those assets from
outsiders.
        "Many of you no longer have any means to support
yourselves.  I need people to work for me in all capacities.  As
cooks, accountants, and guards, just to start.  I can pay
generously in food, goods, and security for now.  I'll pay in money
later when I establish a new currency.
        "As far as I'm concerned, you either work, or you don't.  
Those who don't and have someone who works to support them are 
alright.  Any minors who have no supporters I declare wards of the
state, and I'll provide for them until their majority.  Those who's
jobs was to take care of them will be housed here along with them.
        "For those adults with no jobs or supporters, I am the 
employer of last resort.  I will find you work, I will employ you
myself, or I will sell your contracts for indentured servitude. 
One way or another, you will earn your keep."
        Robert smiled.  "It's not you who came when called that I'm
worried about.  It's the rest of the town, which I'm now compelling
to come whether they want to, or not.  I believe those might be
more troublesome.  Are there any questions?"
        "Yeah," said a former county deputy.  "Are you nuts?"
        "No," said Robert.  "Next question?"
        No one else dared.  The rest of town arrived and stood 
looking stupefied.  Last came Robert's messengers, including Wolf,
who carried the bleeding body of one of the eight.
        "Who shot him?" Robert said.  A man from the new group of
townspeople raised his hand, apparently against his will.
        "Why?" Robert asked him.
        "The creep was trying to fondle my daughter," the man said, 
"and said he was going to rape her.  I swear I'd do it again."
        "Good man," Robert said.  "You saved me the trouble.  Those
badges had no power to protect him when he started breaking my 
rules."  He gestured, and all traces of the body disappeared.  Wolf
looked apprehensive, but Robert smiled at him, and he relaxed.
        "That's it?" the sheriff said.  "A man's been murdered, and
all you have to say is good is 'good riddance'?  You're crazy."
        "No one can lie to me," Robert said.  "I saw the truth in 
his mind and in his family's minds.  The dead man was part of a
gang who'd already killed a townsman you were supposed to protect,
and raped his family.  He lived on my sufferance, like the rest of
these men.  He merited death simply by disobeying my orders while
he was on a suspended sentence.  I do not coddle criminals, and
will not support them to do nothing.  They will work while doing
their time. And it's not as if you've been doing your job.
        "I'll get this town functioning again," Robert said.  "But
I'll be cutting out the deadwood to do it."  He gestured towards
the sheriff as he said this.  "Those who simply want to go back to
work, go home with your families.  Supplies for your businesses
will be here tomorrow, even if you don't work for money, you'll be
paid in food and other necessaries.  And for now that will have to
do.  Those who are hungry, will find food waiting for you in your
homes, and Medical personnel will have supplies in the clinics.   
        "Those who wish to see me for something else can stay, and
I will deal with as many of you as I can."  Most of the people
left, with the orphans and their caregivers going to their new
quarters in the Palace.  Others stayed who wanted a job in the
Palace right away.  Robert invited them to find something to do in
the kitchens or other areas, and he would get back to them tomorrow
as to exactly which positions they were to fill.
        There were still several determined groups bent on giving 
him a piece of their minds.  He called those who disagreed already 
with his policies to the foot of the dais.  'Lump it,' was the gist 
of the response from Robert; it wasn't a democracy.
        There were more who wanted to retain some special 
privilege, their political position, or to increase their wealth at
his expense.  'No,' was his answer to them, he would make his own
appointments, and his own decisions, though advice was welcome;
when he asked for it.  He sent them home to their comfortable
homes, with a feeling of unease.
        That left those with no other means, or smarts, than to try
to freeload off the Dark man.  The men he sent to some isolated 
quarters, then he smiled, and looked over the remaining women.    
        Some of them looked on him as the town's most eligible
bachelor.  "I hope you realize," he said, "that I have no intention
of marrying anyone, but I'll be happy to fuck any of you who simply
must be had by me.  My men will also volunteer to service you."   
        His eight remaining men laughed harshly, and rubbed their
crotches suggestively.  Several women who were offended at his 
crudeness left in a huff.  Good, he thought.  Soon only the
hopeless users will be left.
        A beautiful and busty red-head sauntered up to the dais,
and walked up the steps to the throne.  He stopped her with a
glance before she reached him.  Her name was Traci, and she was
known throughout the town as a social climber, and a first class
slut.
        "Oh, come on, honey," she purred at him.  You don't need
anyone else but me.  Send them away, and I know I can make you very
happy."
        "On the contrary," he said, grinning, "I intend to have a
large harem, and if you persist in this, you will be appointing
yourself as a member."  She gave him a 'be serious' look.
        He shook his head, he'd given her enough chances.  "Come
here to my feet, woman, you belong to me now."  His power urged her 
forward and now Traci tried to resist him.  She never wanted to be 
the property of any man, but she found herself kneeling at his feet 
despite her efforts.
        "What do the rest of you want?" he asked.  "Answer me
truthfully.  Do you wish to be free of both want and work?"
        The general consensus of their answers was that his 'work
or be made to work' decree was far too harsh.  Here, a woman had 
married young to a rich man, and now divorced, she had lived on 
alimony now absent.  She'd never had to work before, nor ever
wanted to, so how would she live?  There, an heiress's money came
from the rentals of property she'd inherited, and not from any
effort on her part.  How could he make them work, when they'd never
had to before?
        "It's a fucked up world, ladies, and you're going to have
to face facts," Robert said.  "Those resources are simply no longer
available.  If you will not leave now, to try to find useful work,
you will be made to be useful to my men!"
        Two women tried to leave, but Robert shook his head. 
"You," he said pointing at younger woman.  "You're not serious
about working, you're just trying to get out of this."  He pointed
at the other one, "You can go.  But the first one stays, to join in
the party."  He waited until the older woman was gone.
        "Ok, Wolf, you and the guys can have them.  They're good
for nothing else, and they will serve your needs.  But don't hurt
them, got it?"
        "Aye, and thanks, sir," Wolf said.  "Let's get some, boys."
        On the dais, Robert stood and opened up his button fly 
jeans.  He reached for Traci's head and pulled her mouth to his 
cock, which quickly became hard as she bent to suck it.
        Robert's warriors closed in on the remaining women, in
order to throw them down to be fucked.  The heiress cried out to
him, "How can you let them do this to us?"
        "Because it's all you know how to do," he said.  "I gave
you a chance to be useful, but all you wanted was to be the users. 
Now instead you'll be used."
        Robert stopped talking, she wasn't listening anymore.  Wolf
had her on hands and knees, with her expensive skirt thrown over
her back and her silk panties torn off.  He was clutching her tits
hard and pumping her cunt hard with his doggish cock.  She was
grunting almost as bestially as Wolf at the treatment she was
getting.
        The Dark man stroked Traci's head at his crotch.  The 
divorced woman was one of two who were being made to french around 
the prick of a big man, who was giving them no choice but to do so.
These were hardened, violent men, used to getting exactly what they
wanted.  The women were rich and pampered, unable to offer any 
effective physical resistance to them.
        The room began to pulsate with Robert's lust.  Traci was
pulling off her clothes at his unspoken urging while he fucked her
mouth with his cock.  He stood, making his clothes vanish, and 
created large golden cushions at the foot of the throne, on top of
the dais, and pulling her to him.
        Robert pushed the town harlot down on the cushions, and
kneeled between her legs, looming over her, at first just looking
at her, and letting her look at him.  He was a big man, just how
huge she hadn't realized until this moment.  His hard body, wide 
shoulders and broad chest were everything she always wanted in a 
man, but had never had.
        His chest had a swirl of fine black hairs that plunged in
a steep dive to the thatch of coarser curls at the base of his
cock.  Under his thick head of dark hair, his matching brows were
bushy and wide.  His face was clean shaven, his features well
formed, but his black eyes pierced her soul.
        She had firm round tits, a narrow waist, and nice broad 
hips.  Her trimmed pussy snatch proved she'd come by the red hair
naturally.  Robert had always thought so, and that if she were 
likely to take her hair color out of a bottle, she'd be a blonde.
        She had the flawless skin and classic heartshaped face of
her celtic blood, but there was no warmth in her blue eyes, and the
lines besides her wide mouth were caused by bitterness, instead of
smiles.  She was the perfect trophy woman, always throwing herself
at the most influential man around, but this man had her measure.
        "I'm going to keep you," he said as he rubbed his cock on
her cunt lips.  "You'll join the others in my harem, and have my 
babies, just the same as they."
        "You can't just use me like that," she said, struggling
with him.  She hadn't worked so hard to be the woman of a man with
power, just to be 'kept' by this man and have nothing to show for
it; no status, and no power of her own.
        "Sure I can, 'honey'," he purred back at her.  "I'm boss 
around here, and what I say goes."  As he spoke he slipped inside
of her.
        Even Traci's blase attitude about sex was shaken up by that
piece of meat.  Long ago she'd trained herself to use sex only as
a tool, since it did nothing for her anyway.  She wouldn't really
let it get to her, but to make her partner think she had never had
a better time.  She wasn't sure she could keep up her reserve with
this man.
        "Ah," he said.  "Whoring around has had it's effects on
you. You've had two abortions, and no births.  But you do like
cats."
        "Bastard!" she hissed.  "How did you...?  I never told... 
I went out of state!"
        "I know everything," he said.  "Like how much you like 
roses."  From above her head he pulled a perfect blood-red rose
bud, and stroked her cheek, lips and throat with it, while he
looked deep in her eyes.  Unspoken in his eyes, a smile was shown
there.
        She'd never been so filled, not even when her Uncle Bob had
forced himself upon her when she was ten.  For most of her life,
men had used her, so she'd decided that to get even, she would use
them instead.  Before Robert, she'd hadn't met a straight man she 
couldn't wrap around her finger at will.  Somehow she'd always 
picked the wrong man.  The married ones, the gay ones, the users...
        Robert slowed down, each stroke distinct so she could feel
every one.  She focused on the feel of his cock deep in her pussy,
and as she did so, he started to gradually increase his tempo.  A
power burned in her.  He'd found some vaginal scarring and other 
things that would reduce her responses, and he set to fixing them.
        Deep in her cunt, his slowly speeding strokes were
beginning to cause a tingling feeling.  She'd felt it before, once
in a while, but never anything more.  She gritted her teeth. 
Usually at this point she began faking orgasms, but she wouldn't
give this man the satisfaction.
        The tingling grew stronger, becoming almost a burning.  She
writhed, trying to escape the unaccustomed heat in her groin.  But
Robert was relentless in his fucking.  He held her tight and sped
up even more.  Then he would back off and go slow for a bit.  The
tingle began to cause little twitches in her cunt walls, something
she couldn't remember ever feeling before.
        The Dark man smiled at her again, because she was closer
than she knew.  He'd sensitized her clit when he healed her, and
she was primed for one rip-raring orgasm.  Her cunt pulsed inside,
she Robert suddenly started slamming her hard.
        He was pounding her without pity, when it started.  A 
buzzing flare that seemed to light up her nervous system, ignited 
somewhere near the tips of her toes, flashing up to the crown of
her  head, and zig-zagging between the two points several times,
setting off little wildfires of ecstasy at several parts of her
body along the way.
        "Unnnhhh!" she groaned unconsciously, as her back arched in
racking spasms, again and again.  Robert rode through it, laughing 
in triumph at defeating her control, and bringing her to pleasure. 
She stared up at him in shock, her eyes glazed, at first unable to 
process the feelings she'd experienced.
        She lay there shuddering, wondering how to take what had 
just happened to her.  Robert stroked her with the rose again, over
her tits this time, and kissing her face.  "I'm going to make you
my little kitten, Traci," he said.
        He leaned back a bit, and said, mostly to himself, "You
even played a part in a production of 'Cats' in college... and your 
latencies work well for that idea..."  Before she had a chance to 
wonder what kind of madness he was talking, he blurred her and bent 
to altering her body.
        Incredible agility and great strength were among her
genetic potentials that he tapped, as well as making her body even
more sensitive to pleasure.  All of her senses were enhanced, as
well as her sense of spatial relationships and balance, and her
instinct for danger and curiosity.
        When he let her come aware again, something was different.
She was purring.  Really purring.  Like a cat, deep in the throat,
and vibrating her whole chest.  In part she had the form of a cat, 
and as much of the abilities of a cat as he could pack in that 
delectable body.
        She could feel a light coat of fur on her body with her 
clawed hands, and her tongue traced the sharp fangs now in her 
mouth.  A tail she'd hadn't had before lashed as she snarled at 
him.  "What have you done to me?" she demanded.
        "Given you what you've always wanted," he said in her ear.
"The way you are now, you can defend yourself from anyone who wants
to abuse you, even from Wolf.  Ever seen a cat take out a dog 
before?  Cat's can do more damage.  As long as I am your master,
and the only father of your children, you can keep that body.  I
don't even care about other lovers, as long as we are clear on
that."  He held her slitted blue eyes until she nodded her
understanding.
        "I won't have time to direct everything that goes on in the 
Palace," he continued, "or greet everyone who comes to see me. 
I'll need ambitious and diplomatic people to do some of these
things for me.  Do I take it that you volunteer for this sort of
thing?"
        She looked back into his dark eyes for a long time.  Was he
pulling her leg, tempting her with gifts and responsibility that he
didn't intend her to have?  Teasing her with her heart's desire,
only to disappoint her, as she had been disappointed so many times 
before?  With those questions unspoken by her, he shook his head, 
and she could not doubt that he meant his answer.
        She would have what she had wanted, she had just never 
foreseen it happening quite this way.  With a growl she pulled him 
close, and kissed him hard, biting his lips.  She'd always been 
willing to be owned, but only if she got some of the power in 
return.  This strong and sexy body seemed to be a good trade for 
having only one master.
        The two of them began to fuck again, while Robert's 
inaugural orgy continued on around them, unabated.


To be Continued...


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From kmcclure@goldrush.com Thu Feb 19 17:36:36 1998

DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "Hell Hath No Fury..."

[Disclaimer: This text is intended for adult audiences, if you are 
not of age to view it, be somewhere else.  This series of stories 
explores the darker aspects of the human experience, if that might 
offend you, then you were warned, and it isn't my problem. -- KTM]

        Anything can happen in the Multiverse.  Even a world that
is much like ours, but which somehow... isn't.  A world that is a
magnet for the blackness in the dreams and souls of humankind.  A
world known as: The Darkside.

        The World's economic system depends on a delicate
interlocking system of mutual trust and financial debt.  When those
bonds shattered, the governments and monetary institutions
crumbled.  Even the most idealistic civil servants left their jobs
when their families were gripped with hunger.  The Survivors of the
Chaos would come to call their nation the United States of Anarchy.


Chapter 6.  "Hell Hath No Fury like a Woman Scorned."  -- by KTM.


        [Begin Interlude: Somewhere... else in the Multiverse.]   

        "Foul play!  We protest, Light Bringer!  We request an
audience with the Greater Light to complain."  The words were
spoken by a large yellow skinned being, with four arms, wings, a
bifurcate tail, and two sets of tusks, one for each mouth.
        "I have already heard from the Creator," the golden energy
being known as Kruegar said, ignoring the hiss of distaste from the
first speaker.  "My Master will not Hear this matter, and has 
appointed me to referee this conflict."
        "How do we know you speak the Truth?" the Destructionist
spokesman asked suspiciously.  "Or that It said this to you."
        "Do you doubt my Word, or His?" Kruegar responded quietly,
the golden glow of the humanoid form increasing sharply, making the
other shield it's eyes in pain.  More conversationally, Kruegar
continued.  "You could have brought this matter up with my Master's
opposite self, and got a more sympathetic response."
        "Our Master's words hold no sway with the light spawn...
yet.  But *yours* does," it said with a snarl.
        "And besides, Lord Kaos had already refused to intervene in 
this minor matter, right?" Kruegar said with a shrewd guess.  "Very
well, what is your complaint?"
        "Some light spawn has interfered with an unaligned 
dimension in the buffer zone," it said, "which was agreed to be a
non-interference region, in the Treaty that ended the Battle of 
Midpoint.  They have granted some Creationist powers to an 
ephemeral on a certain dimension within the zone, with the specific 
purpose to turn a pivotal world closer to Creationist control.    
        "Should the Alignment of the dimension alter enough, it
will no longer be neutral-to-dark, but of the hated Light.  We
protest this  blatant move by the Creationist, to deprive us of
influence by subverting the world's natural development."
        Kruegar nodded.  "What say you, Spokesman of Creation?" he
asked.
        A silver mist formed, and from it appeared a tall grey 
skinned humanoid.  The being was dark haired, with six fingers  on
each hand, slightly pointed ears, and molten silver eyes.  "Hi
there, ugly.  Healed up nicely, I see.  But, unfortunately, you're
just a revolting as ever," the alien female smiled, showing a set
of sharp silver teeth.
        "You still bear the scars of my wounding as well, Rider," 
it retorted.  "I heard you had to quit your body to recover from 
that last battle.  Too bad it wasn't permanently."
        "Gentlebeings!" Kruegar said.  "Rider, answer the 
question that I put to you."
        "I fear that one of my people is 'Guilty, provisionally.'
It was a dead on imitation of a certain balding starfleet captain.
        "They admitted their guilt, make them withdraw the light
power," the gruesome being said quickly.  Too quickly.
        "What is the provision?  I must remind you that no 
provisions were specified in the Treaty being referred to here,"
Kruegar said.
        "Save those of long custom, previously in use," Rider 
countered.  "So, you claim that *we* interfered?  We already knew
about the Destructionist contamination of that world in the form of
the Rod.  We just tried to balance things out again."
        "By endowing *another* mortal?" the demonic creature said,
incredulously.  "The custom was that if one side tempted someone, 
the other side could attempt to sway the being to their side.  You
have simply bequeathed light powers to a separate being, instead of
trying to convince the first to turn."
        "Therefore you admit to the first interference, and by so
doing, your complaint is moot, and dismissed," Kruegar said.  
"However, why did your side take this action, Rider?"
        "Their 'gift' was not meant to *turn* just an individual.
The Rod's influence was intended to use their mortal subject to 
alter the alignment of the whole world.  Thus we concluded the true
target was not any one person, but the Paradigm of the entire 
dimension.  Our agent is there to provide a counter balance.  If
their side will cease any further interference, we swear to do so 
as well.  I, for one, would be interested to see the final result."
        "It does seem that it will be an interesting experiment,"
Kruegar said.  "Very well, I will seal the dimension from outside. 
We will set up a Committee from both sides to observe and comment 
on it's progress.  Choose whom you would from your clans, and I 
will supervise and chair them."
        "You lost again, ugly," Rider said.  "Or don't you remember
who dictated the terms of that Treaty you just tried to hide 
behind?"
        "This will do," it replied, confidently.  "Our servant is
much stronger than yours.  He will prevail against her foul light."
        "Will he really?" Rider mused.  "I think you'll find that
she's stronger than your realize."

        [End Interlude: In a bubble of Neutral space attached to 
the Ultra laced Meta shield surrounding the Darkside's dimension.]


        Rebecca moved towards waking.  She felt heavy, with a 
concentration of urgent heat at her groin.  Darkness and dark power
was all about her.  In her dreaming state the weight and heat took 
on the form of Robert Black, trying once more to invade her body, 
and humiliate her soul.
        "No!" she cried out, still sleeping.  She flared the bright
light of her outrage intensely at the Darkness.   Rebuffed, it
fled. By the time her eyes opened, all she heard were rapidly
retreating noises.  She couldn't see anything, even in her soft
glow, but she was covered with some sort of mucus slime.  She was
aroused, her nipples red and swollen, her clit tingling, and her
labia puffy. She felt like someone had been molesting her, but she
couldn't sense anyone else in the dank cave she'd been banished to.
        Rebecca's body still quivered from unfulfilled need.  
Moaning, she lay back on the bench, with one hand playing with her
clit, and other squeezing her breasts.  As she had so often before,
she began to pleasure herself.  Her right index finder traced firm
circles around her sensitive sexual organ, occasionally brushing it
directly, while she gently pinched her nipples.
        Her breath quickened, and the tingling reached heights 
she'd never felt before... what happened yesterday.  She shook her
head, banishing the memory of the Dark man, or tried to.  It was
her only experience, and almost against her will, as her aching 
cunt clenched on nothing, she thought of the mighty cock that had
been rammed in there the day before.  So hard and yet giving, the
feelings it had given her were incredible.  If only it wasn't
wielded by such a creep...
        In sudden spasmatic jerks, she came.  Her orgasm as intense
as any she'd ever given herself, if not a little more so.  Her need
retreated and she lay still, panting.  In the aftermath, she felt 
torn between the guilt her religious background decreed, and a 
knowledge that the adult body experience a build up of nervous
tensions that required the occasional grounding of orgasm to ease.
        When she recovered, she went to the brackish fountain, and
cleaned off the drying slime that covered her.  During her 
ablution, she could feel a deeper stain that water could not touch.
She ate a light breakfast from the food provided in the covered
plates, and sat on her bench to meditate.
        For hours, Rebecca sat there, trying to root out the 
darkness Robert had filled her with.  She found that her hot anger 
at her rape fed it, and made it stronger.  Only after a painful 
inner search to discover her forgiveness of her brutal assault,
could she begin to reduce it's presence.  Again and again she 
flooded herself with her light, to purify herself.  She came to
realize that she blamed herself, as she'd seen rape victims do.
With a sigh, she acknowledge that she had no control over his
actions, and so she couldn't be at fault.
        That helped, the point of darkness in her was shrunken
almost to nothing.  Undaunted, she sought out the last of it.  Deep 
within, she harbored a guilty attraction for the Dark man, and even
more guilt that she had responded to his sexual attack.  Dwelling
on the guilt made the dark spark jump in response.
        She fought to calmness again.  She visualized him
clinically, in the light of her forgiveness, and her acknowledge of
the autonomy of his actions.  He was handsome, even beautiful in a
classical fashion, and deliberately dark.  He was an elemental 
force of destruction, like an earthquake or a tornado.  One could
admire the awesome power of such a thing, without laying any moral
judgements on it.  She also realized, that she didn't really like
the muscular type, and that she much preferred brains to brawn.
        The pinpoint subsided to the merest speck that she had not
yet banished.  Her responses, she knew, were forced by him, or were
in self defense to his advances.  The body responded in certain 
ways to certain stimuli regardless of what the mind wanted.  He had
the element of surprise.  The novelty of the sexual act to her, and
the pain of her rape allowed him to give his darkness and seductive
powers a toehold in her.  It wouldn't be so easy for him, next 
time.
        She touched the collar around her throat, and sighed.  And
she knew there would be a next time.  But whatever he did to 
despoil her body, he could not touch her mind and spirit, if she 
did not allow him to.
        She could do nothing about preventing his rapes, since 
their powers worked to cancel each other out, and he was physically
stronger than she.  But nothing she could do would frustrate him 
more that to know her mind was still her own, and that he could not
control her.
        It would be a minor victory, in the light of conceding her
body's surrender.  But it was all she thought she could manage for
now.  It would take time for her to accomplish anything more.  She
chuckled to herself.  It was like 'The Force' from the movies.  His
energy was quick, dirty, and wild; while hers was calm, clean, and
slow.
        She had to absolve herself of guilt from the self-imposed
crime of responding sexually to the enemy.  As long as she held it
against herself, the pin-prick of evil would remain.  She had no
choice in the response, and for now she had to accept the
situation.  Finding herself blameless of wrong doing, she filled 
her soul with intense light, and watched as the last spot of 
corruption was destroyed.  Patience and love must be her
watchwords.  He would try all over again to get to her, but as 
long as she could find her peace, he would never prevail.
        She knew her light was her advantage.  She could see the
damage that the poisons of hate and loathing were doing to her.  A
normal victim of rape would try to hold on to those feelings, 
little realizing how much they harmed her or him.  Hate made them
feel in control of their rage, and any kind of control was better 
than none.  Self-loathing made them feel that it wasn't their 
fault, and conversely that their own unworth could explain the
reasons of an unreasonable act.
        That afternoon, Robert summoned her out of the Dungeon.  He
noted with annoyance that there was no sign of the darkness that he
had filled her with the day before.  At his gesture, she was 
dressed in something flimsy and silver.  "Come here," he commanded
her, and she decided he had nothing to gain by refusing him in 
small matters.
        The thin black chain of her leash snaked up her body, and 
mated itself to her collar.  Robert pulled her forward by it, and 
squeezed her breast.  She pulled away at that, but he jerked her 
back by her chain.  "You're going to get a front row seat in my 
Court, my dear," he said to her.  
        He pushed her to sit on a large black cushion besides the 
throne.  He idly played with the slender chain as she took in the 
throne room, today.  On the other side of Robert, the reddish  cat-
girl, Traci was curled up on a golden cushion, dressed in black 
leather straps.
        A few petitioners were leaving the front point of the 
golden star set in the flooring stones.  The huge four pointed 
skylight was letting in shafts of polarized sunbeams into the great
room.  It created a star-shape of light, it's points aiming to the 
corners of the room as it crossed the floor star.  A small band of
Imperial Legions came in, dragging in several dirty men in  chains.
        "Your Majesty," the officer said.  "Our squad was set on
Patrol to enforce the Martial Law decree.  We have caught these 
men, and we need to know what to do with them."
        "What was their crime, Captain?" Robert asked.
        "Drug smuggling, and dealing, sir,.  You told us our base
laws to enforce were 'the American Common Law', and drugs are in 
violation of that law."  One of his men brought up several large
bricks of plastic wrapped marijuana, and set them down.
        Robert shook his head.  "As this nation started off with
British Common Law, except for the new laws the colonists created,
so shall I modify and simplify American law.  I agree with the view
that voluntary drug use isn't a crime.  Nor is providing those 
drugs.  If fool wants to poison his body, he's free to do so."
        Rebecca couldn't stay silent on this point.  "What if the
dealer is selling bad product, or is holding up the buyer?  And,
what will you do if a user collapses and needs medical care?  Will
foot the bill for his care, or leave him to die?"
        Robert looked down at her in surprise.  "Those are good
questions, my sweet.  Alright, for the record: Fraud and robbery
are against the law regardless.  Those crimes would be punished
even if drugs were not involved.  If someone with a self-inflicted 
condition comes in for medical care they can't afford, they will be
cited to perform community service to pay off the debt to the 
public who paid for it."  He nodded to himself, satisfied with the
amendments.  "Oh yes," he said, "and selling to children is child
abuse.  I very much frown on child abuse."
        He turned to the dealers.  "Make sure your junk is uncut
and pure.  Do not under any circumstances force anyone to buy it, 
or dare to sell it to kids.  You will also provide clean needles on
demand, you can get them from me for now.  Do these things and you
can sell to whoever will buy from you in my territory.  If I add
any more rules, I'll let you know.  Violate my rules, and I will
crush the offender.  Unchain them, Captain.  You, take your stuff
and go."
        The smuggler's leader held out a brick to Robert, "Thanks,
Chief, wanna sample?  You can have it."
        "Robert smiled, "No, thanks.  I'm quite Dark enough 
already.  Who needs drugs when you have absolute power?  Now, get 
out of here," he waited until he saw them leave.  "On a similar 
note, Captain, don't bring anyone in here for a consensual sex act 
between adult, no matter what the act is, and whether or not money 
changed hands.  Abusing children is, of course, a separate matter, 
one that I will judge."
        "I suppose that rape isn't a crime?" Rebecca muttered.
        "Bring in those accused of rape, of course, and I will 
judge them as well," Robert said.  "That is all for today, folks.
Please clear the courtroom."
        "'Power corrupts, and absolute power...'" Rebecca began,
under her breath.
        "'...Corrupts absolutely," Robert finished for her.  "And
I am absolutely corrupted, my dear."  He turned to Traci, you go
on too, Kitten.  I need some time alone with the Ice Queen."
        The woman now known as Kitten, gave Rebecca a pitying look,
but sauntered to the rear doors that led to the Emperor's Quarters,
and the Harem.
        "Well, go on and say it," he invited, "those words I feel 
that are just sitting on that acid tongue of yours."
        "So, who's going to judge you for your crimes of rape, 
'm'lord'?" she hissed accusingly.  "Or don't your laws apply to 
you?"
        "Of course not," he said with a smile.  "What's the use of
power if you can't squeeze some perks out it?"
        She thought to herself, 'Oho!  I can already see that one
is going to come up and bite him eventually.  What's good for the
goose, will be considered good for the other geese as well.'
        "That was some good thinking in there.  I need a clear
thinker like you.  I'm still making all this up as I go..."
        "I can tell," she said sarcastically.  "Or doesn't the word
'hypocrite' mean anything to you?  If you don't feel bound to
follow any laws, why bother enforcing any?  Why not just let 
everyone else act as they please, also?  Or is that *your* sole 
prerogative?"
        Robert frowned.  "Certain things are just wrong, no matter
who does them, and I won't permit them.  If Chaos reigned, no-one
could be happy, because only the strongest would have everything
they truly wanted, and then only until the mob cut them down.  Even 
then the mob wouldn't be happy, because there wouldn't be enough 
spoils to go around."
        "You just said that laws only apply, until *you* want to 
break them.  If an eight year-old beauty queen in make up and
pasties appeared here before your throne, you'd be happy to rape
her, wouldn't you?  Admit it, Kingy!"
        Robert half shook his head, but there was a troubled look
hinted at in his dark eyes.  Rebecca pressed her momentary 
advantage.  "Laws must apply to EVERYone, or they protect NO-one.
You can see the necessity of laws, but not how your own actions 
invalidate them?
        This time he shook his head forcefully, and his eyes 
hardened.  She'd gone a step too far today, she knew.  But she had
would have lots of time to work on him.  She just wished she knew 
what greater power had appointed her to be Robert's conscience.
        He yanked her chain, hard.  "I asked you a question 
earlier, bitch," he snarled, "will you join me?"
        "How can I refuse such a gracious invitation?" she said,
her sarcasm fairly dripping in her voice.  "Get bent, pervert!" she
said.  "I won't help a monster like you."
        "Then you will pay the price for your obstinacy," he
growled, almost pulsing with darkness to her sight.  You name me a
pervert?  Very well, Rebecca, let's try something dirty today."
        He forced her to her feet by the collar, and ripped off her
silver wisps.  She blasted him with her stored power, and he 
cursed.  He picked up the black cushion and threw it on the throne,
and spun her about, pushing her face first onto the softness.  He
pried open her legs, and plunged his huge tool into her sore cunt,
increasing her wetness and coating himself liberally with her 
juices.  She gripped the pillow, trying to make it through the 
attack, as she had yesterday.
        Until he pulled out, and placed the dripping tip of his
dick at the entrance of her virgin asshole, that is.  She screamed
when she realized what he was going to do.  And her fear just made
him laugh.
        "That's right, cunt," he said.  "I'm going to ream your 
ass.  Won't that be fun?"
        "No!" she cried furiously, with an edge of hysteria.  She
tried to blast him again with her white glow, but it had less 
force, and he ignored it.  He gave a grim smile at her pathetic
resistance, and started to put his weight behind his cock.
        Slowly, her tightly closed sphincter started to open to the
bruising force he applied to it.  Reluctantly it yielded enough 
for her to feel that she was being ripped open, and his head wasn't 
all the way in, yet.
        He kept working it, adding a slick lubrication, and pushing
his cock relentlessly into her rear.  He thought about letting her
flesh tear and bleed, but he thought he'd enjoy it more if he made 
her come to like it.  She squealed suddenly, and he felt his head
pop into her ass.  He tight muscle ring snapped shut just below his
head, holding him within her.
        "That wasn't so bad, was it, baby?" he said, revelling in
the tight squeeze around his cock.  Slowly, like yesterday, he
began a rocking motion, loosening her and driving ever deeper into
her pain seared bottom.  She could feel his head, a massive knob
the size of her fist, pushing deep inside her body.
        He was able to start up a decent stroke now, so he leaned
on her and began squeezing her firm breasts.  Gradually he began to
use his dark power on her again, using her shock and pain as the 
entry past her control and resistance.  He manipulated her clit 
with his powers, and altered her pleasure levels.
        She'd stretched incredibly to accommodate his tool, and 
still he was pushing deeper.  But it didn't hurt so much now, and
all the other stimulation was starting to get to her.  Her sobs
turned sharper when she realized he was forcing him to respond to
him again.  Soon she would suffer the humiliation of being made to
come to orgasm from him buggering her ass.
        He seemed determined to bury his cock in her rectum.  To
somehow get her anus to stretch enough to accept all of him.  Her
hot tears flowed, but she bit her lips to keep herself from making
useless pleas to him to stop his assault.
        Robert was lost in the struggle, grunting animalistically
as he kept on battering her bowels.  He had no concern for her 
feelings, and very little for her chances of injury.  He was
stimulating her, but not putting on an artificial block against the
pain of his fucking.  
        Sometimes the pain was sharp, as he stretched her to a new 
depth, and at other times there was just the dull ache of her 
insides in response to his ceaseless pumping.  Slowly he filled her
lower colon, inch by inch until she realized that his pubes were
touching her ass.  With the next deep thrust, she was sure, as his
bush ground into her butt.  She sighed in relief, for that meant
that he wasn't going in any deeper.  The bad news was that now he
was going to go faster!
        "I'm glad you're happy that I'm all the way in you," he 
grunted.
        Now that he'd plumed her depths, he began to build up his
speed.  The aching began to fade behind a slow wave of endorphins.
Her own reaction were beginning to adapt her to the intrusion, and
to blend the sensations of his rape into the mounting feelings he
was creating in her.
        Her tears turned to shame as she began grunting in rhythm 
with him.  She couldn't help it, he pushed so far into her the 
noise was instinctual.  As his ramming continued, her sounds became
stronger, and more like moans of pleasure.  She built inexorably up
to a small climax, that lurched to a much strong response when her
body reacted to his solid presence in her body as she clamped down.
She gasped, panting, clawing at the cushion.  She didn't know that
it was possible to just feel ok, and then suddenly spike to pure
ecstasy.
        She could *feel* his low laughter, as he gently mocked her
grudging responses.  He began focusing on her pleasure more, 
knowing that his greatest satisfaction came of making her like what
he did to her.  When she cried out to her god for mercy and begged,
he'd hose her out with a semen enema.  That was what he was waiting
for.
        Her noises were almost cries of encouragement, and they
climbed higher as she built to another orgasm.  He began to talk to
her, "I think you really like this, baby," he said in a gloating
voice.  "Maybe you're a closet masochist."
        She spared enough breath to call him a son of a bitch.
        He smiled that he'd gotten to her, and sped up his sodomy.
A hot flush ran through her as she begun to build again.  Her 
nipples were almost hurting from his constant tweaking, and her
clit felt glorious.  She knew that he'd do it to her again, make 
her totally surrender to him.
        She began to tense, waiting for the lightning to course
through her, setting her nerves ablaze in wildfires of pleasure.
For a moment she could almost forget he was her enemy, and that he
was basely raping her.  His damnable advantage was that his power
could take an act that should be brutal agony, and transmute it
into guilty pleasure.  It gave less wear and tear on the body, but
left a humiliating stain on the soul, and he well knew it.
        The lightning struck her without warning, and she gave a
full-throated scream.  Her body clenched down hard on him, and he
filled her with his sperm and darkness.  She lay limply on the
cushion as he pulled out of her, and cleansed them both.  
        "Thank you, my dear," he said mockingly.  "For such a 
wonderful fuck.  I've begun to expect that of you."
        She didn't have the energy to return his gibes, so she 
just slowly crawled to her feet.  "I suppose it's time for me to 
return to the dungeons?" she said wearily.
        He shrugged, "Unless you want to go to my Quarters and join
my harem?"
        "Thank you, but no," she said.  "I like the quiet down 
there.  I can think."
        "As you wish, sweetheart," he smiled, and with a wave she
again stood in her cave-cell.
        She hoped that at least the slither-thing would leave her
alone that night.  She didn't think she'd be able to bear to wake
up again all covered with slime.  Rebecca was asleep almost as her
mind had framed the thought...



To be Continued...


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From kmcclure@goldrush.com Thu Feb 19 17:40:15 1998

DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "The Fist of Darkness."

[Disclaimer: This text is intended for adult audiences, if you are 
not of age to view it, be somewhere else.  This series of stories 
explores the darker aspects of the human experience, if that might 
offend you, then you were warned, and it isn't my problem. -- KTM]

        Anything can happen in the Multiverse.  Even a world that
is much like ours, but which somehow... isn't.  A world that is a
magnet for the blackness in the dreams and souls of humankind.  A
world known as: The Darkside.

        The World's economic system depends on a delicate
interlocking system of mutual trust and financial debt.  When
those bonds shattered, the governments and monetary institutions
crumbled.  Even the most idealistic civil servants left their jobs
when their families were gripped with hunger.  The Survivors of
the Chaos would come to call their nation the United States of
Anarchy.


Chapter 11.  "Within The Fist of Darkness."  -- by KTM.


        The severe autumn was shaping up to be yet another hard
Winter.  As the privations of the season began to clamp down on
the North, everyone felt the lack of the fuel and supplies that
were readily available under the old economic system.  The
Empire wasn't hurting much, because the Emperor supported them.
        Months after Robert had tamed the nuclear weapons, his
Black Legion, now 15 divisions strong, were ready to move against
General Stark's conventional forces.  Robert's military numbered
in the many thousands, with most of the able bodied men and many
women in his four state Empire joining it, in order to fulfill the
full employment requirement.  Even the Power Team had a role in
the Legions, as the premiere Special Forces unit.
        But Stark's soldiers felt the lack of the taxpayer's
tributes, and raided the civilians of the surrounding communities
near them for basic supplies.  Many areas in the North Eastern
U.S. suffered these attacks, causing them to plead with the Dark
man to deliver them.  He was willing to oblige, but while the
Empire prepared for the coming Campaign, the innocents outside it
were suffering.

        Sergeant Brad Donovan loved going to town for supplies.
His Platoon was composed of first class fuck-ups that the old Army
wanted to get rid of.  They were in his care because only Brad
could control the rowdy bastards.  The "regulars" considered them
criminal scum, and their Platoon was dubbed "The Rats".
        One of them, Corporal Steven Leigh, was accused of raping
a little girl in the foreign country he'd been based in.  The
scandal had been embarrassing, but they couldn't prove he did it.
Still, the PR was so bad, they'd sent him home, for a face saving
Court-Martial.
        Donovan's band proved efficient at sniffing out goods
civilians tried to keep for themselves.  This success did a lot to
change their previous record of being slackers and thugs.  Brad
wasn't babysitting bad-boys anymore; now he led men perfectly
suited for 'requisitioning' missions.  Every sort of leverage and
threat was tried to get the supplies, but it was Corporal Leigh
who found the most effective means of all.

        The Rats came into town for warm clothing and blankets.
Donovan provided the diplomatic angle, while two ex-MP's, Rillburg
and Renes, served up the threat of violence over the barrels of
their machine guns.
        "Look Mr. and Mrs. King, under the National Economic
Emergency Act passed by the U.S. Congress, you're required to
render what assistance the Military requires," Sergeant Donovan
said, patiently.  "You're the community leaders, and we're not
leaving until we have what we came for."
        He nodded to where the former MP's leaned against the
doors of the town's council chambers.  "Here is the legal
requisition of supplies from my commander.  I'm not going back to
base without the materials it specifies."
        "Yeah," Private Doug Renes said, fingering his weapon, "it
might be...unhealthy.  For us, and for you."  The Rats shifted
uncomfortably, remembering the dire threats that had made about
summary executions if they didn't deliver the winter supplies.
        Tom King had learned not to raise his voice against them.
He'd gotten a black eye for it last time.  "Sergeant, what you see
here is everything we can spare.  That has to be good enough; we
can't give you anymore.  Just tell your Captain that's all there
is, he'll understand."
        "It's you who don't understand," Private Kyle Rillburg
said. "If we don't come back with *everything* the Captain wants,
he'll take it out on our hides, and frankly, King, I'd rather
take it out on yours."
        "You expect the Military to serve the public," Donovan
said, "right?"  King nodded.  "When the public was paying taxes to
support the Military, that was true.  But that isn't happening
anymore, King, and we're not asking for charity.  I'm three months
in arrears of my pay, and I'm willing to take it in goods.  Since
you aren't supporting us with your taxes, we'll take your
possessions -- at gunpoint, if we have to."
        "Won't be necessary, Sarge," said another voice.  "I
think I can speed up this procedure."
        Sergeant Donovan looked over where Corporal Leigh was
herding in two girls.  One, young and docile, went where he told
her to.  The other was an angry teen who only went with him
because he held a belt that throttled her neck.
        "Tanya!" King said, "C'mere darling.  Get away from him!"
        The quiet girl started to take a step to her father, but
stopped at a soft word from Leigh, "Bang."  She hung her head and
looked away from her dad.
        "Damn you," King said.  "What are doing with her?  And
that's my niece, Carol!"
        "Yes, Corporal," Donovan said, "what are you doing?"
        Steven Leigh handed the teen's leash to a Private, and
went to speak quietly with the Sergeant.  "I've thought of a
better way than just shooting them and starting over.  Let me wing
this, and he'll fall all over himself to give us what we ask for."
        Brad narrowed his eyes, but then he nodded.  "Do it."
        The Corporal turned to the frantic father, who was being
held back only by machine gun barrels.  "Mr. King," Steve said.
"These two lovely young girls will be giving some 'hospitality' to
a few of the Country's finest.  Once you've provided everything on
the list in acceptable quality, they will be released.
        His cold smile sent shivers down Donovan's spine.  "I hope
you take longer than 30 minutes, 'Dad'.  That's about my minimum
for a good solid fuck!"  The younger girl shuddered.
        "You monster!" Tom King shouted.  "Let them go!"
        Steve looked at his watch, and handed the girl a large
tube of KY jelly from his pocket.  "Time is counting down, Mr.
King, but if you stick around for about 5 minutes, you should be
able to hear your daughter's virgin scream."
        King moaned in frustration.  Donovan told the B squad to
guard the Town Council's outer doors, and led A squad into the
inner Council room with the girls.  As they closed the doors, he
said, "You're a sick sonofabitch,  Steve."
        "Better believe it, Sarge," Leigh said.  "Better to pop
their cherries than for us to face a fuckin' firing squad.  You
joining us?"
        "No, Corporal," Donovan said.  "I'm Christian, and that
would be a sin.  But I'll stay, to make sure you're not getting
too rough."
        "You like to watch, Sarge?" Leigh said.  "I never would
have guessed.  C'mon boys, let's have some pussy."
        Some of the men hesitated, and Donovan assured them,
"Don't worry.  Corporal Mac knows if one squad gets something
extra, the other will get their turn next time."
        The girls were stripped, and laid back on the tables.
Nylon ropes secure them, while the soldiers ditched their ragged
uniforms.  The Corporal stated smearing the KY over the pink lower
lips of the younger girl, who was maybe 14.  Then his slick hand
started sensuously rubbing his stiff meat.  Tanya watched him like
a bird watches a snake.  When he finished, his cock strained
upward against his belly, leaking precum.
        Leigh climbed between her legs, smiling.  He pushed his
hard cock down, so it dragged through her sparse bush.  She
shrieked a little at the touch of his hot flesh, then gasped as he
started rubbing it steadily across her little clit.  He kept up
the steady rubbing until her entrance wet slightly.
        He began pushing his rigid cock lower.  Deep between her
cunt lips it slid, until his head found her slot and began to push
inside.  She started struggling uselessly at the merciless
pressure of the intruder within her innermost folds.  His hips
slowly sank down as he pushed in, then stopped with a grin.
        "I thought you were a virgin," he said.  "Today, you're
gonna become a woman around the head of my cock!"
        "Oh god no please," she babbled, "no don't, please!"
        Donovan noticed his men were jacking their meat, anxiously
waiting for their turns.  His own cock ached as well, so calmly he
opened his trousers and began to rub his hard prick.  The men
looked at him wide-eyed, because he easily had the biggest meat in
the room.
        He looked over at the older girl, where two buddies were
working on her together.  She looked about 17, and one was eating
her pussy, while the other was kneading and slobbering on her
tits.  "Look guys," the Sergeant said, "we don't know how long we
have here, so why don't you start teaming up on them?"
        "Alright!" one of the younger men said, and pushed over to
where the corporal was teasing Tanya's clit again.  He grabbed a
handful of her small firm breast, and held his commando knife
across her throat, aiming his cock at her face.  "Open up, pretty
thing, I want your mouth."
        She moaned, "Don't hurt me.  Please!  God, no..."
        He pushed his dripping hardon against her mouth and
forced it open.  He shifted the knife closer, "Don't you bite me,
bitch."
        Leigh watched, and as the other man entered her mouth, he
plunged fully into her virgin cunt.  Her muffled scream of pain
made it easier for the soldier to push his dick in.  Another man
began to work on her tits, while a forth put her unresisting hand
around his meat, so she pumped his meat with him.
        On the other table, the buddies were sandwiching Carol.
The one under her eased her ass down on his thick greased cock.
His partner knelt straddling him, with his dick poised to jam in
her cunt.  Two more were taking turns playing with her big tits
and fucking her mouth.
        Soon, every man in the room had at least a girl's hand
wrapped around his cock, if not his cock in one hole or another.
All, that is, except the Sarge, who stood back and watched it all,
slowing beating his big cock.
        The soldier with the knife groaned, grinding his pelvis in
Tanya's face, pumping his jizz as deep as he could.  As soon as he
stepped away, another man put his cock into her mouth.  Corporal
Leigh was still slowly fucking her.  He had stamina, and the girl
was struggling so delightfully under him.
        He sped up his tempo a bit, and she gasped in pain,
wailing that he was killing her.  "No, cunt.  I'm fucking you.
There's a difference."  She only moaned in response.
        He began slamming her hard, as her mouth was invaded by
the third cock since her ordeal began.  She was starting to learn
how to breath even with the men's thick penis jammed down her
throat.  Leigh grabbed her hips and brutally rammed her, grunting
as he pushed all the way in, and pumped his cum deep inside.
        One of the younger guys holding Tanya's hand around his
shaft bucked, as he shot his wad on top of her.  Leigh still lay
on her, rocking his hips a little with his eyes closed.  Someone
tapped his shoulder to cut in, and the Corporal snarled back at
him, making the soldier back up a step.
        "Now, Corporal," Donovan said.  "Remember, it was your
idea to share the girls, right?  You've had a turn, move aside."
        Leigh scowled, but he climbed down, and used the girl's
skirt to clean his pink-stained cock.  Then he got dressed, and
sat near the door with his machine gun.  He was done for the day,
and someone had to keep guard.
        "Something wrong, Steve?" the Sergeant said, still
stroking himself.
        Leigh answered without looking at him.  "Like you, Sarge,
I got my standards.  Me; I don't ever take sloppy seconds.  Once
someone else gets her, I don't want her anymore."
        "Your loss, Leigh," one of the others said, but the
Corporal only shrugged.
        Donovan continued to stroke, wondering how things were
going outside.

        Corporal Mac hadn't seen a civilian so eager to fulfill a
Military order in his whole career.  King had made a flurry of
phone calls and sent his wife off with several messages.  Quicker
than they'd been told was possible, the supplies started arriving.
        He knew there would be a next time, so when the stuff
came, he took his time evaluating it.  He wanted good quality, and
at the same time make sure the guys had lots of time to enjoy.  He
rejected a quarter of the goods, making King practically scream at
him to get on with it.
        Mac said, "We deserve only the best..." a scream of
passion from Carol interrupted him, "...which it seems they're
getting in there.  Doesn't it make you proud, to know your family
is giving their all in the service of their country?"  He gave a
wicked smile while the men solemnly saluted the inner council
room.
        "Mr. King, the longer you stand here and argue with me,
the longer this is going to take.  He hooked his thumb to the
doors, "And that will take longer, also.  So go ahead, man.  Yell
at me.  My buddies have been needing some fresh pussy."
        The councilman looked apoplectic, but Mac cooly continued.
"Now, Mr. King, we don't have all the required blankets yet, nor
the clothing we need.  I suggest you get busy calling some more."

        In the inner room, the men were slowing down.  They'd all
had a turn or two at the girls, and some were dressing, as the
rest finished up.
        Donovan was starting to sweat.  He was starting to feel an
need to come, and that meant he should stop.  Leigh smirked when
Sarge's mouth twisted, and the big man slowed down his pumping.
        "Ya know," the Corporal drawled, "it's a sin to waste it."
        Donovan frowned at the pedophile.  "I know.  That's why
I'm stopping."
        Leigh handed his gun to another, and went to Tanya.  "I
think I know how you can get off, *and* avoid a sin," he said.
        "What do you mean?" Donovan said.
        "Fortification is a sin," Leigh said.  "And so is wasting
your spunk.  So why don't you point your canon over here at this
cunt, and cum on it.  You haven't put it in her hole, but your
little guys can swim around in that swamp, and have as much a
chance as any of ours to knock her up.  That wouldn't be wasting
it, would it?"  Leigh spread her legs wide open, and gestured at
her sopping cleft.
        The other guys said, "Right on, Sarge!  Do it!"
        "Don't tempt me, Corporal," Donovan said with a scowl.
        "See anything wrong with my logic?" Leigh said.
        "No, I don't," the Sergeant said.  "I think you're right."
He went over to the girl, and began pumping in earnest, holding
his cock so his cum would pump onto her wet cunt.  His fist flew
on his shaft, and with a grunt he shot on her.  With careful aim,
he didn't lose a single spurt to the floor.  He sighed with
relief, and walked away, his conscience clean.
        When A squad came out, Corporal Mac reported they had all
the supplies they had been sent for.  Donovan nodded to the
distraught father, and told his men to pick up the supplies and
head back to base.
        This was the way the Rats became famous for always getting
the goods with their methods.

        Robert was thoughtful as Tom King gave his report of the
incident concerning his daughter, along with heartfelt letters
describing dozens of similar events.  The victims asked for the
Dark man's help, because as bad as he was personally, the common
folk of the Empire were better off than those suffering under the
tyranny of General Stark's 'protection'.
        "Thank you, Councilman," Robert said.  "I think that you
can expect an intervention in this matter, and soon.  I can't give
you specifics, but my actions will be decisive."
        "As soon as you can, sir," Mr. King answered.  "We're
counting on you."
        Operation: Ratcatcher was set for mid October, and with
the careful planning that had led up to it, the day of the mission
began flawlessly.
        The six minor bases throughout the American North East
were each to be attacked by two Legion Divisions.  The greater
numbers on the Empire's side were meant to overwhelm the
resistance and get things under control as quickly as possible.
        The main target, however Stark's base at NORAD HQ, inside
Cheyenne Mountain, which would be the toughest nut to crack.
Accordingly, this strike force consisted of 3 full Divisions of
the best troops the Empire had, and the Power Team, accompanied by
Wolf, a part time member, and led by the Emperor himself.
        At 05:00 CST on the 15th, all seven bases were struck
simultaneously.  There was no way the enemy could support or even
warn each other, as each was soon fully engaged.  The Legion had
more troops, but those that Stark had were more experienced, and
better trained with the larger weapons of war, like tanks and
artillery.
        While the conventional forces squared off, Robert led Wolf
and the Power Team past the battle line and through the long
tunnel that ended at the massive doors that shut off the heavily
shielded installation inside.
        The Dark man gave them their final instructions.  "Wolf,
you stay here with the Team, they'll need your help more than I
will."  The shaggy man nodded, and gave a nod to Teke, as well.
He'd already worked out with the Telekinetic who was in charge
between them.
        "Teke," Robert continued, "I'm going on ahead to open the
way.  The team will stay here to hold the access to the Mountain.
If the Legion wins decisively and reaches your position, go ahead
and come in after me.  If the tide turns against us, lend a hand
and hit the enemy from the rear on your own judgement.  Is that
understood?"
        "Yeah, Chief," the black man said.  "Go in there and stick
it to 'em.  'Hear?"
        Robert nodded and turned to the great reinforced doors.
With a quick gesture they ripped open, causing some small tremors
on this part of the mountain.  He flicked of his long blue cloak,
and disappeared inside the jagged rift.  The sound of his mayhem
as he headed back down the tunnel soon faded, but the rumbling
tremors continued.
        Charity, and the less combat oriented Team members stayed
in the entrance tunnel to get as much cover as possible.  Lady Web
needed to stay as close to the entrance as possible, though, for
when she was needed.  Her mind-linking gift only activated within
line-of-sight range, at present.  It was too short a range for
Seeker to assist, and stay at home.  They had needed her, though,
and so she had come along.
        A small shower of rocks alerted them that there was
trouble in the area.  Seeker said, "Look out!" as a bunker opened
up on the mountain above them, and from it a dark tank emerged,
blowing loose dirt around it in a wind blast as it _floated_ out
of the entrance.
        The powerful fans on the smooth trackless bottom of the
tank angled aftwards, and the armored vehicle began to slide down
the slope towards them like a stick of butter on the off-ramp to
Hell.  Two armored men appeared at the bunker entrance, and they
began leaping down to either side of the tank as if they only
felt the Moon's gravity.  Both the hover-tank and the power suits
were dark colored, with bright green 51's painted on them.
        "Lady Web!" Teke shouted, "link us up!"  They blinked as
the connecting Web surrounded their minds, and gave them instant
communication with each other.  Sapphire and Osprey, the two
flyers in the group, started getting altitude, while Warp ducked
down and checked his supply of packet bombs.  Wolf stood his
ground, with the great battleaxe Robert had made for him held
ready.
        When the tank hit the bottom of the slope, the team had
already moved.  The tank slowed as it reached the level, and it
appeared to plant in one spot and swivel it's main gun around in
an attempt to cover the ground based targets that were in the
area.
        It's movements were jerky and unsure, and Charity reported
that the tank crew and the suited men lacked confidence in their
equipment, and were nervous.  Teke began to take advantage of the
information, by giving hard randomly directed shoves against the
big machine.
        The crew tried to recover Turbine control and aim the guns
despite the unexpected jolts.  The armored men headed down to take
their defensive positions by the tank, when Warp popped in and out
around it, slapping on a dozen stick-on bombs, including a big one
shoved inside the turret's main barrel.
        "What are the fuses set for?" Teke yelled at Warp, as he
threw up a PK shield against a spray of machine-gun fire.
        "Ninety seconds, boss!" Tim called.  I wanted it to be
soon, but still give us time to get outta the way."
        "Good thinking," the black man said.  "Look, our flyers
will handle the jumpin' beans coming down the hill.  I gotta keep
pushing this thing around, so they stay off balance.  You and Wolf
need to give them something to focus on.  Are you two up to it?
It's dangerous."
        "I *like* danger," the wolfman grinned, lifting his axe.
        "Like they even have a chance at targeting me!" the teen
sneered confidently.
        "Okay then," Teke said.  "Keep 'em hopping boys!"  Wolf
and Warp led the tank away from the mountain, and away from the
power suits racing to re-enforce it.
        The tank's crew desperately tried to get a bead on
*someone*, as they were thrust around inside their metal shell by
a few tons of telekinetic force.  From one side or the other, from
above or below; they could never predict where the lurch was
coming from next.  All the while, timers counted down on the bombs
stuck onto the tank's exterior.
        Tim started counting down the last few seconds through the
Web, "Five, four, three, two, one!"
        BOOM!  The tank was rocked again, then suddenly it fell
the two feet that it hovered above the ground, the main barrel
bent and useless.
        Teke waited, but the tank stayed silent.  He levitated
himself and Wolf to the hatch to greet the crew when they came
crawling out.

        The armored men had nearly made it to the tank when the
flyers came back down.  With a piercing whoop, Osprey stooped on
one of them, ruddy phantom wings folded close.  Her specialized
telekinesis assisted her clawed gloves to clamp on the back of the
suit.  She fought to pull him up as high as she could before he
could get a weapon aimed at her.  Twenty feet, thirty, forty and
climbing steadily, she continued to rise with her prey.
        Sapphire had been charging his power beam the whole time
that they'd climbed.  When they had dived at the power suits, he
had cut lose with as strong a blast as he'd ever fired, right at
his target's chest.  The bright blue shaft dazzled his eyes, and
he skimmed by fast over the head of his target, wincing as he
expected to hear the sound of gunfire, or worse.
        When he spun to look behind him, all he saw was some
drifting dust where the soldier had stood.  He made a double loop
in mid air to get a closer look, using the gradually fading blue
sparkles that trailed after him to give himself some partial cover
from any assault.  The armored man had been driven a foot or two
into the mountainside, smoking.  The soldier twitched feebly,
obviously stunned.  Ali turned to assist his partner.
        Osprey had her target half a football field up in the air,
and was aiming for an especially rocky area.  Sapphire showed off
his speed and maneuverability by flying behind her, and
occasionally looping in front of them to tease the guy into
shooting at him.
        "What are you going to do with him?" the Middle-Easterner
asked.
        "I don't know, yet," Karen said.  "He's not a turtle or a
walnut, but do you think his shell will crack if I drop him?"
        "Maybe," Ali said.  "But you're only fifty yards up.  You
might want to try a hundred yards before you let him go.  Or even
a half a mile."  He grinned at her, knowing their conversation was
for the benefit of the prisoner.
        "Oh God, don't," the man begged.  "I surrender.  I can't
take a fall like that.  Not in this untested, "New Technology"
piece of shit...!"
        "We accept your surrender," Osprey said, "but take off
your helmet first."
        "Why?" the soldier said, lifting his headgear.
        "So it will be far more certain that you'll die, if I have
to drop you because you cross us, you imperialist swine."  The
guy's hands froze.  "Do it!" she snapped.  He did.
        "Say," Ali said, "wouldn't *we* be the Imperialists?
After all..."
        "Oh, shut up, Sapphire," Karen said, giving him a
disgusted look as they flew downward.

        Robert hadn't expected to face much pitched resistance to
his penetration of the Mountain, but he was finding that people
were hiding from him.  It wasn't helping, of course, he could
sense them through the walls, but he didn't really care.  He
wanted General Stark, and found him in the big Operations room,
that resembled scenes in movies like Wargames.
        Just at the entrance were two close ranks of soldiers who
were determined to kill the intruder, or die.  Robert didn't like
either of the choices, so he put them into a deep, coma-like
sleep.  The only time he'd killed lately, was when he was taken by
surprise.  Robert came fully into the room, and saw the General's
iron-grey hair had gone completely white.  The officers and
soldiers manning the consoles looked nervous at his appearance.
        "Hold it right there, you perverted freak," the General
ordered him.  Robert wanted to know what the man had to say, so he
stayed where he was.  The General laughed harshly, "Well, I've got
you know, Black, and this is MY palace, so I call the shots.  I'm
going to take down your little empire, just as my men are taking
out your pathetic 'Legions'.
        Robert didn't bother to correct the General, but the facts
were that the commander of Stark's forces outside had just
capitulated, and the Power Team had the "Special Weapons" unit
well in hand.
        "See all those lights up there?" Stark asked him.  "They
represent multiple warhead nuclear missiles, waiting to be fired
at my command.  The majority of them are aimed at that so-called
Palace of yours, but at least three are pointed at each of your
Black Towers.  With a press of this button, I will take out your
precious "Empire", and make your home into a crater."
        "Go ahead and press it," Robert said casually.  The
men in the room looked at him with surprise.
        "And don't think your begging will stop me either, Black,"
the madman babbled, not hearing what Robert was really saying.
"Even if you crawled and kissed my feet, I'd still do it.  It's my
duty as an American to wipe your obscenity off the map."
        "I didn't know you had a shoe-fetish, General," Robert
said.  A few smothered snickers were heard in the room.  He
raised his voice, "I said, 'Go ahead and launch'.  I don't care.
Jenners told me about your plan months ago, and I've disabled your
toys.  They won't launch."
        "You're lying!  You couldn't!  It isn't possible!" the
General screamed.  "I'll call your bluff right now!"  His finger
stabbed the flashing switch to launch the armed missiles, then he
turned to gloat at Robert.
        Robert calmly watched the man's manic expression as the
General described, in lurid detail, the devastation that was even
now hurtling to obliterate Robert's cesspool of sin.
        He was literally drooling when one of his officers tried
to get his attention, "General... Sir... General!"
        "What do you want!" Stark shrieked at him.
        The Colonel flinched.  "They didn't launch!  We've got
errors across the board.  Not a single base has confirmed a
launch.  It's over."
        "Why didn't they launch?" the General demanded shrilly,
grabbing the Colonel's shirt front.
        "We don't know yet, sir," the Colonel said as the General
shook him in rage.  The younger man grabbed the General's wrists
and held him still.  We've got technical crews looking into it."
        "We've got a report," someone yelled across the room.
        "Put it on the speakers," the Colonel said, as he released
the General, and pushed him away.
        "The fuel tanks are full," a man said over the loud
speaker.  "So why the hell...?" he muttered.  A clattering noise
was heard.  "Well, fuck me.  I don't believe it.  The engine
housing is *empty*.  There's no fucking motor in this thing.  This
missile isn't going anywhere... I don't have any spares."
        "There's no warheads in the nose cones, either, General,"
Robert said.  "Your man is right.  It's over."
        "Never!" the General shouted, spittle flying.  He drew his
pistol, and started firing at the Dark man.  Robert thoughtfully
kept the bullets from ricocheting.  The General put another clip
in his gun, and kept firing, but Robert just stood there.  "You're
a dead man," the General laughed.  "I killed you.  I saved the
Nation!"  He swaggered over to where his imagination showed him
Robert's bleeding corpse.
        "And you are mad," Robert said.  "And you will always be a
threat to those around you.  It ends now."  With a sudden move, he
shoved the blunt head of the black Rod into the General's gut, and
made the darkness flare.  When the room's light tentatively crept
back to the vicinity of the Emperor, he stood alone, except for a
pile of ash and char at his feet.
        "You are all my prisoners," he said to the men in the
room.  "And will be tried for whatever crimes and atrocities you
may have committed."  He turned to the Imperial forces that were
entering the room.  "Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain!" he said.
        
        Later, the Operations room was empty, save for Robert.  He
was playing with the displays, and fiddled until he got a screen
that pleased him.  "It's time for another step outward," he mused.
        The display highlighted the American Northern States above
the Mason-Dixon line, plus Missouri, from the Atlantic Ocean to
the Rockies, that were now under his control.  Nearly half the
Nation, or 24 States were soon to be in his Empire, in addition to
the six Canadian Provinces bordering those states.
        Yes, that would be fine.  It was time to consolidate for
now.  After awhile, when he was comfortable again, it would be
time to plan and grow once more.


February, 1998 - Darkside: United States of Anarchy, Part 11 of 20.
Series Continues after #20 in Darkside: Imperial States of America.


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From kmcclure@goldrush.com Thu Feb 19 17:42:05 1998

DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "She Blinded Me..."

[Disclaimer: This text is intended for adult audiences, if you are 
not of age to view it, be somewhere else.  This series of stories 
explores the darker aspects of the human experience, if that might 
offend you, then you were warned, and it isn't my problem. -- KTM]

        Anything can happen in the Multiverse.  Even a world that
is much like ours, but which somehow... isn't.  A world that is a
magnet for the blackness in the dreams and souls of humankind.  A
world known as: The Darkside.

        The World's economic system depends on a delicate
interlocking system of mutual trust and financial debt.  When those
bonds shattered, the governments and monetary institutions
crumbled.  Even the most idealistic civil servants left their jobs
when their families were gripped with hunger.  The Survivors of the
Chaos would come to call their nation the United States of Anarchy.


Chapter 8.  "She Blinded Me With Science!"  -- by KTM.


        Robert lounged in his quarters, wearing only a comfortable
robe, reading the mail passed to him through the Black Towers.  It
was the usual mix; hate mail, requests for charity, and the 
business of his empire.  One letter he opened, smelled of perfume.
He sniffed closer.  No, he thought.  Of a woman wearing perfume.
        When he drew out the letter, a photograph fell out.  It 
was a gorgeous blonde woman, nude, wearing only an open white lab 
coat, and a pair of glasses.  She was holding a beaker in one 
hand, and was obviously a natural blonde.
        He stared at the photo for awhile, getting a hardon, and
called his sister, "Susan, come here, please."
        "Yes, Robbie?" she said, playfully, and then saw his 
erection.  She smiled, and said, "Ok, I'll take care of that."  
She came over to him, kneeling between his legs to suck his cock.
        He smiled back at her, and opened up the woman's letter,
and began to read it.  It said her name was Liz Tyler, a upper 
class Physics Major, and that she'd been harassed at MIT for 
paying her tuition at the school with photo shoots for Playboy and 
Penthouse.  She'd been kicked out of the school before the it shut 
down, for 'impropriety'.  She listed the issue numbers that she'd 
appeared in, and he summoned them to enjoy more of her beauty in 
the spreads.
        His cock jumped in Susan's mouth, and he stroked her head
in apology.  The letter went on to say that Liz had stumbled on an 
important discovery, before she was suspended, and needed his help
to set up a research laboratory.  He could make a place where 
discoveries dangerous to vested powers, or to the old governments, 
might be researched in safety, for the good of all.  
        The photo spreads were very nice, and Susan's attentions
were expert.  Robert's cock pulsed as he came in his sister's 
eager mouth, and she drank it greedily.  She joked with him, "I 
didn't know that you needed to look at girly mags to get off, with 
all of us around."
        "The girl in this one," he showed her a centerfold, "sent 
me a letter.  She's a physicist student, who thinks I should 
support important scientific research."  He grinned, "It sounds 
like a worthwhile thing to do."
        "Brains *and* a beautiful body?" Susan laughed.  "Are you
sure you can handle someone like that?"  Watching his cock twitch,
she said, "I can see that you want to.  'Handle' her, that is.  I 
just hope she knows what she's getting into... or what's going to 
get into her."
        He showed her the picture, "I think that she has a pretty
good idea.  If not, then she sure as hell should."

        Robert sent for Liz Tyler a few days later.  He had set
aside living quarters near his, and dedicated a large suite of 
rooms to be the core of an Imperial Science center, whether or not 
she stayed on.  He put in some basic lab furnishings, but left 
most of the rooms empty for what equipment she'd request.
        As usual, silver haired Rebecca was at his side for the
official business, while the ruddy-furred Kitten helped him 
preside over the court's regular debauchery.  Despite their public
scene on the throne room floor, the two women didn't like each 
other very much, and tended to avoid each other's company.
        Rebecca noticed that he was hurrying through the day's
petitioners.  "Expecting someone in particular, today?" she asked
him quietly, between hearings.
        "Yeah, as a matter of fact," he answered, and handed her
the letter.  His eyes twinkled in amusement as she read it.  When
she looked up, puzzled by his smile, he handed her the photo that 
had come with it.  She frowned at him.
        "Oh, of course you couldn't possibly hear her out for any
humanitarian reasons," she said, sarcastically.  "You had to have
a prurient motive in mind."
        "Absolutely, my dear," he chuckled softly.  "She's looking
for a kind of academic charity.  And you know that I always make
someone 'pay' for what they get for free."
        "Well, she did aim below the belt," Rebecca said.  "And on
you that's such a big target..."
        He smiled at her with a raised eyebrow, as a blonde woman
came into the throne room.  She wore a classy looking blue skirt
ensemble, and carried a large leather briefcase.
        Robert rose from the throne and said, "Good day, Miss
Tyler.  If you'll take a seat at the conference table to your 
left..." he indicated a large but little used table to the left 
side of the room.  He turned to the address the court observers, 
"This is the last meeting of the day, and it will not be public.  
Please clear the court."
        He hadn't addressed Rebecca, so she rose and accompanied 
him from the dais, after tugging a moment at the black chain 
firmly attaching her black collar to the massive sapphire throne.
"Robert...," she said, annoyed.  She'd forgotten he's chained her
today.
        He gave her a devilish grin, but relented and released 
her.  He was more interested in another female right now.  He sat
at the head of the table in an ornate and massive chair, and 
watched as Liz brought out some papers and diagrams about her
research.
        "What is your research about, Miss Tyler?" he asked, 
looking at the way her body moved under that suit.
        "I was doing research for a paper about academic fraud, 
and I found anomalies in the cold fusion fiasco.  It appeared that 
after they announced it, a great deal of money and effort had been 
spent to squash any further lines of investigation on the subject. 
Before they could exhaust all possibilities.  If there was nothing 
to it, why bother?" she asked them.  
        "I looked at the information, because atomic particles are 
a place where physics and chemistry intersect.  Mariko, a friend 
and a chem major, thought that cold fusion had been disproved, but
when I showed her what had been missed, she agreed with me.  We 
snuck into the Chem labs at night, working with the variations, 
getting interesting results until we stumbled on a set up that 
would produce power, and one time, it produced more power than the 
initial energy that we'd used to start up the reaction."  She 
pulled out a diagram that meant nothing to Robert or Rebecca.
        Liz tapped the page, "It was enough to show there was 
merit to the idea.  Our notes during this didn't mention me, 
because only she had access to the chem labs.  She took a copy of 
the notes to the Chem department's chair to show him what we'd 
found.  She had a demonstration set up, the information that I'd 
uncovered, and the notes concerning our research."
        Her voice choked up.  "I never saw her again.  Through a
mutual friend, we were told Mariko had left the school.  That 
scared me.  Shortly after that, I was bounced from the school for 
'academic impropriety'.  I was being punished for giving her the 
initial information.  They didn't know that I'd been involved in 
the experiments, luckily for me.  I mailed my copy of the papers
home, with instructions to put them in the family safe.  This is a 
copy of those documents."
        She looked down for a moment.  "I wish I knew if she was
alright.  Mariko was a good friend, with fascinating ideas about 
crystalline computer components."
        Robert said, "Think about her, please.  I need you to 
visualize her," he closed his eyes, his brows furling.  He pulsed 
with darkness, the pulses reflecting in the dark Rod that he'd
left standing by the throne.  Rebecca's white glow rose in 
response to it.
        "She's alive," he said, his voice toneless with intense
concentration.  "Stop that, Rebecca, you're distracting me."  
Rebecca tried to dim her white energy.  He stood, and held up his 
arms, and a battered girl of oriental decent appeared in them.
       "Mariko!" Liz said.  Rebecca reached to hold her hand, and 
to stop her from interferring with Robert's support.
       "Excuse me," he said.  "I'll take her to the Infirmary in 
the Royal sector.  She'll be alright, Liz."  He carried her easily 
out of the room, and returned shortly.
        "The Doctors said she'd been roughed up pretty bad," he
told Liz, "but she should recover in time.  I promise you she'll 
be well cared for."
        "I'm very glad to hear that," Liz said.
        "I was happy to do it," he said.  "That sort of thing 
really pisses me off.  But that has nothing to do with my official
interest in you.  On a more personal note," he said with a grin,
flipping her naughty photograph on the table on top of a
meticulously drawn diagram, "I think I have a real good idea of 
what you can do for me."  He winked.
        Liz blushed, but pushed it back towards him.  "And your 
official interest?" she said.
        "To tell you the truth, Liz," he said, "if you want my 
empire to support your research, you'll have to show me what it is 
you want to accomplish."
        "I understand, sir, as I explained in my letter, and you
can see in these papers..."
        "I'm afraid I'm not a technically minded person, Miss 
Tyler," Robert said.  "Can you demonstrate the project for us?  I 
can give you the materials, and I've already set aside rooms for a 
science center."  He brought them to the sparsely furnished labs.
"So tell me, why is room temperature fusion important to the 
empire?"
        "Ideally," she said, "when the right configuration is 
found, this discovery could make a self sustaining source of power
with a small investment of start-up power, and common supplies.  I 
will need 5 gallons of purified distilled water, and large tanks 
of gaseous oxygen, and hydrogen."  
        Robert created what she needed, as well as the polarizing 
bell jar, the filters, and the more esoteric gadgets she described 
to him.  Liz assembled the apparatus, filling the bell jar's 
reservoir with the water and hooking up the gas tanks.
        "If you put oxygen and hydrogen gas together," she 
continued, "it doesn't automatically become water.  We use a 
precise electrical charge to start a low-level fusion reaction, 
that basically creates water molecules.  The electrical energy 
gathered routed to a capacitor, while the heat by-product is used 
to split the water back to it's two gaseous states."  Liz finished 
setting up the equipment.
        "This configuration is inefficient right now," she warned.
"The one time we got a positive result, we used 100 kilowatts to 
initiate the experiment, and it produced 110 kilowatts before it
went unstable and the fusion reaction collapsed.  It doesn't
produce hard radiation, so no extra protection is necessary," she
put a small geiger counter near the set up, and gave them each 
dark goggles.  "The reaction creates a bright flare of light until 
the bell jar polarizes, so please look away for awhile."  She put 
on her goggles, and started the experiment.
        Robert looked anyway, with the goggles still in his hand.
He saw an intense point of light form at the critical point where
the fusion was occurring, and saw the jar darken so the flare was
tolerable.  He checked the dial that had recorded the power 
investment, and watched the meter of energy generated begin to 
move, but very slowly.  At no time did the geiger counter react to
more than background radiation.
        "All the world was abuzz at the mere notion that fusion 
reactions could exist without huge facilities and shielding,  In 
the old America, power generation was a vast money making 
business.  It threatened those in that business to think with some
water and bottled gases, a family might not need their corporate
electrical lifeline."
        She smiled at them, "By our standards, even if the project 
came within twenty percent of the investment, it was a success.  
We did that pretty consistently with this configuration, unless we
did some thing wrong with the set up.  To have it break even is
wonderful, and we had that happen a few times.  To actually see a 
gain over the investment was nothing short of a miracle."
        She said, "It told us that with enough work with the 
configurations, we could hope to find one that yielded an overage 
consistently, and if we could store the extra generated power, we 
could use it to start more reactions.  Remember though, there are 
no guarantees.  We may never get this to work entirely right."
        She turned to him, her eyes shining.  "But think about it,
sir," she said to him.  "The investment can be free energy, from 
the wind, sun, or even manual cranking, just so there's enough 
charge to begin the reaction.  We might someday get it to be 
permanently self-sustaining.  There would be free energy for all. 
We could make bigger versions that would power whole cities, and 
give everyone their own generator, to take wherever they go."
        She looked at both of them, "That is why this research is
important to the people of the world, not just your empire.  But
you could be the one to free people from worry about having power.
It will be a new era of living, and the bastards wanted to keep it 
their secret, so they could continue milking the public."
        Robert mused to himself, "*Real* mobile homes.  Fully 
electrical vehicles.  Free public power grids, just like today's 
road systems.  I like it," he said.  "You've got the lab.  You and 
your friend can stay here and research this.  You tell me what you 
need, and I'll see that you get it... Chief Researcher.  Your first 
order of business is to get this thing stable."
        "Just like that?" she said.  "Just turn science over on 
it's ear?  Alright," she laughed.
        "You haven't had the other part of your 'interview' yet. 
If you'll excuse us, Rebecca, Liz and I have an appointment to 
keep... in my bedroom."  He winked broadly.
        "Now you're in trouble," Rebecca said to her, then 
hesitated.  "Wait, Robert." 
        Robert frowned at her.  Rebecca turned to the young 
scientist.  "Can you leave the experiment?" she asked.  "When it
destablizes, does it need any attention?"
        "Yes and no," Liz answered.  "The experiment will run
for hours, usually.  We often left it to eat.  It will continue 
charging the capacitor while it runs, and then it will just stop.  
It's safe to leave unattended here, providing the bell jar is of 
top quality."  She looked at Robert, who had provided it.
        Robert nodded, and said, "Thanks, Rebecca, for thinking 
about the safety of the Palace."
        "Seems to be my job," she said.  "Thinking of things that
you overlook."
        "Sounds like a good job description to me, Rebecca White,"
he said.  "You're hired.  Just don't forget the personal services
that come with that job."
        "Yes, I know," she said, with a slightly resigned tone, 
and a faint frown.
        He gave her a nod, and a look that acknowledge that their
adversarial relationship still existed between them, despite what
surface cooperation they appeared to give each other.  For now it
wasn't important for either of them to convert the other, as long 
as they were working for the same goals.  He led Liz out of the
labs.
        Robert took Liz by the arm, and led her to his master
bedroom.  He had an Emperor sized bed, and he brought her to it, 
as he dropped his blue cloak.  She hesitated, and said, "You're 
serious, aren't you?  You'd lay me down and do me without another 
word.  Well, if that's the way it's going to be..."  She reached 
for the buttons of her blouse.
        "Wait," he said.  He sat on the bed, and patted the cover
next to him, inviting her to sit.  Several weeks ago, he would 
have just done her the way she'd said, without a second thought.
But several weeks ago, he hadn't met Rebecca.  It was just 
beginning to dawn on him that not all women found his charms 
irresistible.  He could just turn up his seduction aura, and erase
all her doubts.  She wasn't protected from his power.
        But he considered, why did he want Liz to stay?  He 
answered himself, 'Because of her brain.  If you do it like this, 
she'll stay long enough for the fusion project to be done, and her 
friend to be healed, and then she'll want to leave.  To get away 
from the man who had used her; to get away from you.'
        Needing a woman for something other than her hot, wet cunt
was a bit foreign to him, but it was the reason he'd begun to back
off of Rebecca a little.  If he did nothing but abuse her, she
wouldn't share her insights with him.  It wasn't good people 
management to be treating his important people like slaves.  Why
would they want to give their best efforts for him?
        Those methods had worked with Mom, Susan and Traci, but he
hadn't needed their mental input in his governance.  Also he'd
found something that each of them had badly wanted, so he'd 
probably been lucky with them.
        He thought of comic book villains, who for fear of 
competitors, surrounded themselves with incompetents and fools and 
wondered why their grandiose plans never succeeded.
        Dimly it occurred to him... to get something from someone
willingly, he first had to give something, himself.  Sometimes,
what he might have to give was simple respect, or patience, or 
even a sympathetic ear.  After all, robots didn't usually excel 
with their minds, they just did what they were programmed.  If the
programmer was unsure of the course, the robots couldn't volunteer
a solution.
        He would have to do it like Star Trek.  When the Captain
didn't know what to do, he asked for opinions, and then,  he made
the decision.
        All of these thoughts went flashing through him in 
moments, while Liz sat and waited for him to speak.  "I assumed
from the photo that you sent with the letter," he began, "that you
knew that I was a very sensual man, and that you were offering
your... affection for a chance to be heard by me."
        "I sent the letter as a carrot," she said, "and if you
couldn't see the worth of the scientific proposal, the photo was a
way of ensuring that you'd at least hear me out.  I didn't mean 
for it to be a proposal."
        "I didn't hear your pitch because of the letter, Liz," he
said.  "That's just the way I took it.  Do you mean to tell me that
you didn't foresee the possibility that I would take it that way?"
        She looked away.  "Now that I know that you'll take me
seriously, that you understand the good the project will do, I
didn't want you to take me as a slut."  He could see a tear on her
cheek.  "I got no end of harassment at MIT for posing for tuition
money.  The first thing anyone said to me when I got a decent 
grade was that I must of slept with the teacher.  If I slept with 
you now, no-one will think that I earned the position that you 
offered."
        "Nonsense," he said.  "Why would anyone think your 
personal life had anything to do with your job?  I don't sleep 
with everyone in a position of responsibility here.  Under my 
rule, people are judged by the results they get, not on their 
private lives."  He smiled ruefully.  "That's a probably a good
thing," he said.  "I'm not sure that my private life could stand 
up to a close examination."  To his surprise, the admission seemed 
to ease her mind.
        He took her hand.  "You are fighting an image that others
had of you as a bad girl, and you don't think you deserve it.  I
*know* that I'm a bad boy," he said with a wicked grin.  "And I'd
like to prove it to you."  He pulled off his shirt, and showed her
his bare chest.  He was lucky again, he thought, she liked chest
hair.  She reached over and ran a finger through the soft black 
hairs covering his pecs.
        Her eyes drifted down his firm torso to his leather clad
thighs, noticing the large bulge straining at his crotch.  She 
felt less threatened by him, all of a sudden.  He didn't seem to 
be saying anymore, 'now just lay down and we'll fuck,' but 
instead, 'look at me, don't you want to?'  She wasn't sure that 
she didn't.
        "Personally," he said, with a smile, "I don't think 
there's anything wrong with being a 'bad girl', but I'm willing to
believe that you're good, or at least that you're good at it."
        "Oh, you're such a wicked man," she said, but she was 
smiling, too.  He pulled off his boots, then rose and stood in 
front of her, fighting his urge to 'encourage' her with his 
powers.  He was letting her chose for herself, but he wasn't above
strutting his stuff before her.  His eyes looked intensely into
hers, communicating his desire to her.
        "Don't move," she said as she stood in front of him.  She
ran her fingers over his shoulders, and down his muscled arms, 
briefly clasping his large, square hands.  Her fingers moved back
up his arms, brushing his shoulders again.  She began dragging her
fingernails lightly through the forest of dark hairs on his chest.
He gasped when she drug them gently over his dark nipples.
        Her nails traced patterns as they made their way to the 
center of his chest, and then stroked down over his ribs, and over 
his hard belly.  She detoured to draw lazy circles around his 
navel, watching his chest heave with his ragged breathing, and his
muscles quiver from repressed need.
        Her fingers went down until they encountered his belt, and
then she suddenly ran them over the front of his black leather 
pants, rubbing hard over the taut bulge of his restrained 
erection.  She cupped her hand over his maleness, squeezing 
slightly.  The other went to his neck, to draw his dark maned head
down to hers, raising her mouth for his hungry kiss.
        The touch of their lips was electric for both of them.  He
groaned from his need to crush her to him.  "Hold me," she said,
and his strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against
him.  His hands went to her ass, grinding her mound against his
hard, imprisoned cock.
        "I want you," he said, his tone darkened by the urgency of
his lust.
        "I know," she whispered softly, and he could feel her 
shiver.  She broke free of his grasp, and stepped away from him.
        His face went white from shock, and then flushed red with
hot rage.  His hands balled into fists, and he stepped towards her
in raw threat, dark intent in his fierce eyes.
        "Please listen to me," she forestalled him.  she laid a 
trembling delicate hand on his chest.  "I want you, Robert.  But I
would only feel safe with you, if I can say 'No'.  Can you see how
that would relieve my fears?"
        "You're teasing me!" he ground out through clenched teeth.
        "A little," she admitted.  "But a big man like you should
be able to take a bit of teasing.  It can make things more fun in 
the end."  She looked a little intimidated by his reaction.
        He closed his eyes, ignoring the impulses of his throbbing
cock, and did a brutal evaluation of the future of his empire if he
simply raped her, right now, as he so badly wanted to do.
        What his powers showed him was a world considerably 
diminished.  The product of genius would be withheld from him, and
his citizens.  Powerful inventions would be hoarded up, and used
against him directly, or in random terrorist acts.
        The image of children dying in revenge of his unchecked
cruelty struck him like a blow.  For all his darkness, he was
trying to be a good leader.  He was striving to create a world he 
would have wanted to live in, as Robbie.  That world needed him to 
be the protector of it's children.
        He'd already been fighting his darkness, he realized.  Not 
because he wished to be Good, but because unrestrained Evil would 
be bad for the only thing that he truly cared about anymore...  his
Empire.  Without his self-restraint, he would have turned the
people of the whole world into his devoted slaves.  He had thought
seriously about doing it, and it was still only a thought away.
        His black fire still sheathed him like a cloak, and he 
looked deep into her soul, and saw what she was really wanting.  
She was afraid of him.  Afraid of his sordid reputation, and of 
his strange powers.  She was strongly attracted to him, though, 
and she was trying to find a way to feel safe being with him, but 
on her terms.
        She was testing him, and though she didn't know it, his 
resolve to be a fair Emperor, trying to build a better world was
also being tested.  The realization that if he just forced people
to do his will, they became no more than robots when what he 
really wanted were friends and companions, came to him again.
        If he raped her, abusing her physically, he failed the 
test.  He didn't want to admit it, but he would also fail if he
spurned her now, sending her away for not capitulating to his
desires.  That would be mental cruelty.  The only course that 
benefitted his chosen future, was the one that came hardest to 
him; one of respect.
        He had to acknowledge her as a person, with her own 
feelings and needs apart from him.  And grant her the dignity to 
exercise them without undue coercion on his part.  He sighed, 
because it didn't make it any easier on him to know that Rebecca 
would approve.  
        His grim expression softened.  "Elizabeth Tyler," he said
formally, "You always have the right to say 'No' to me," he 
declared.  His power flared again around him, as he made sure that
he would remember his oath.
        She frowned at the melodramatics, "Don't joke with me," 
she said, misinterpreting his phrasing as sarcasm.
        "I'm not," he said gently.  He stepped closer and took 
hold of her hand, letting her feel in her bones that he spoke the
truth, and to see it show in his eyes.
        She smiled, and her fears faded.  She started hurriedly 
undo the buttons of her blouse, but he was far too impatient to 
wait that long.  With a black flare, they were nude, and he laid
her down on his soft bed.
        She had felt him before through his pants, but now she got 
a look at the tool he'd be using on her, and she was suitably 
impressed.  His hands roamed over her, and his mouth fastened on
one of her pale nipples.  His hands were hot on her body, rubbing,
squeezing, and touching all over.  His mouth was insistent, 
licking and sucking her, even nibbling a little.  He rubbed his
hard cock against her, while his fingers found her wet clit.
        She'd been right, he realized, while their bodies clenched
together urgently.  The frustration he'd felt earlier made it feel 
so much better when he finally slipped his meat into her wet and 
willing cunt.  Ever since he'd taken the Rod, he hadn't had a 
desire that wasn't swiftly gratified.  The novelty of frustration 
only heightened the pleasure he felt as he stroked inside of her.
        Her mouth found his, and they kissed for so long she gasped
when they stopped.  His hands held his bulk above her, while her
fingers scratched onto his back.  She came a little, and she dug in
with her nails.  Robert thought it was a good thing that he was
mostly invulnerable, or his back would be a bloody mess in the
morning.  She screamed a little in pleasure, and wrapped her legs
around his hips, as striving for an even deeper penetration.
        As his hard cock brought her to a new series of strong 
orgasms, he had an sudden inspiration.  "What do you think about 
the symbology of a Copper Tower, Minister of Science?" he asked, 
"I think it would be a good symbol of your Ministry."
        She tried to focus on him with blurred eyes, still panting 
from her ecstasy.  "I don't believe it," she gasped.  "Don't you 
ever think about anything but your job?"  She moaned as he changed 
his rhythm to a faster tempo.
        "Only when I'm thinking about sex," he said, grinning.
        "Then get down here, and start concentrating on me," she
hissed.  "I'll give you an opinion about work later."
        "You have a deal, woman," he said, and started using all of
his skills to insure that she was having the best fuck of her 
life.  It was going to be a long night, he knew, and the best was 
yet to come.


To be Continued...

July, 1997 -- Darkside: United States of Anarchy, Part 8 of 20.
Series Continues in Darkside: Imperial States of America.


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From kmcclure@goldrush.com Thu Feb 19 17:46:03 1998

DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "When The Cat's Away..."

[Disclaimer: This text is intended for adult audiences, if you are
not of age to view it, be somewhere else.  This series of stories
explores the darker aspects of the human experience, if that might
offend you, then you were warned, and it isn't my problem. -- KTM]
Note: This one is stronger than most, but is probably the extreme.

        Anything can happen in the Multiverse.  Even a world that
is much like ours, but which somehow... isn't.  A world that is a
magnet for the blackness in the dreams and souls of humankind.  A
world known as: The Darkside.

        The World's economic system depends on a delicate
interlocking system of mutual trust and financial debt.  When
those bonds shattered, the governments and monetary institutions
crumbled.  Even the most idealistic civil servants left their jobs
when their families were gripped with hunger.  The Survivors of
the Chaos would come to call their nation the United States of
Anarchy.


Chapter 10.  "When The Cat's Away, The Mice Will Play."  -- by KTM.


        In Robert's Military Command room, the Dark man read
through tactical reports that Seeker had been providing him.  She
had provided them in her professional capacity.  He'd removed
Paris from team temporarily until he had her problem straightened
out.  As yet, he hadn't had the time to deal with it. She was more
important to him at Tactical in this emergency, then she was
performing calisthenics under Titan's not so tender mercies.
        Robert was trying to understand was General Stark was
doing.  The General had stripped clean some installations, moving
the men and supplies by truck caravan to other bases under his
control.  He'd even forcefully invaded a federal reserve facility,
and made off with tons of food, and thousands of gallons of
gasoline.  The bases he was consolidating to were nearly all Air
Force Bases, and at those his forces were entrenching.
        When he left a place, he left behind a small number of
executed officers.  Exactly for what reason they were being
killed, Robert couldn't fathom.  The Black Legion had found a
young officer in the woods near one of the bases.  He'd taken off
when he'd heard Stark was coming, having heard on the grapevine
what happened at the General's "staff meetings".  The Command
Staff of the base either wholeheartedly joined forces with the
senior officer's plans, or they left the room in a body bag.  The
recent OTS graduate had decided his best choice was to avoid the
process altogether.
        He had willingly joined Robert's Legion, and was now a
Captain, and rising fast.  Having real army experience as an
enlisted and an officer had really helped him.  Other converted
military people in the Legion experienced similar success.  Robert
welcomed them, knowing that they improved his forces.
        "What is his pattern?" Robert mused.  "If I knew what
Stark was planning, then maybe I could do something about it."
        "I can help you with that, sir," said a tired but semi-
familiar voice behind him.  Robert turned and saw the adjutant
that had accompanied General Stark in the meeting the old soldier
had with the him.  Lt. Jenners stood in the door of the Command
room, a member of the elite Midnight Guard just behind him.
        The Lieutenant looked very different from the last time
Robert had seen him.  Instead of the fastidious dress uniform, he
was wearing torn and dirty fatigues.  There were bandages on his
shoulder and head and his face was weary.
        "I've got him, Sergeant," Robert said to the guardsman,
who nodded and left.  The Dark man sent pages to get his staff in
here, and gestured for the young officer to sit.  "Why have you
come to me?" Robert asked as they waited.
        "I... I deserted... him.  It wasn't even the Army anymore,
sir," Jenners swallowed.  "He'd become one of the Warlords he'd
accused you of being.  He's not a soldier, anymore.  I came to you
because you weren't afraid of him."
        Rebecca had entered the room, and immediately laid her
hands of Jenners' shoulders.  Her white glow surrounded him, and
then she lifted the wrappings on his head.  Satisfied she took
them off, showing the fresh pink scar on his forehead.  The young
man smiled his thanks to her.
        "But you should be afraid, sir," Jenners said to Roberts
as Titan and Wolf sat down.  "You should be very afraid."
        "Why?" Robert said, leaning back in his chair.
        "Because he's got control of several Nukes," Jenners said.
        Robert sat bolt upright in his chair, no longer looking
complacent.  "Nuclear Weapons?" he said, disbelievingly.
        "That's right, sir.  And he's having them programmed to
strike here."
        "At the...  Why does he want to Nuke the Palace?" Robert
said, his brows furrowed in anger.
        "I knew the last time I was here that he intended to take
control of some of the nuclear weapons in order to restore order,"
Jenners said.  "After he met you, he became obsessed with
destroying you, and everything you stand for."
        "Can you survive a Nuclear blast, Robert?" Rebecca said.
"Even if you can, the rest of us most likely cannot."  Robert
nodded to her.
        Titan leaned forward, and eager glow in his eyes.  "Let me
take the team in, boss.  We'll settle his hash."
        "No," Robert said.  "You can't prevent the launchings that
your strike might cause, nor can you make the Nukes harmless like
I can.  I'll need the team later, though, when I go to absorb his
conventional forces."  Titan smiled in anticipation, and loudly
popped his knuckles.
        Robert turned to Jenners, "So why tell me?" he said again.
        The officer turned a haunted face to him.  "Because there
are civilians here, sir, and in the surrounding town.  We saw
children playing outside the Palace, but he doesn't care about
that now.  I do care.  I couldn't allow innocent lives to be lost
because I didn't act."
        "Thank you, Jenners," Robert said.  "I have to go take
care of this problem, right away.  Titan, you're in charge until I
get back."  With an ebon flash, he disappeared.
        "Yes, sir," Titan said, his grin feral, and his eyes cold.

        Robert appeared in a silo bunker, Rod in hand.  He made
himself invisible, and began scanning the towering missile poised
to obliterate him.
        He could just make it disappear, and the next one, and
perhaps the one after that.  But soon his efforts would be
noticed, and from somewhere he hadn't yet found, or even from a
mobile platform, the attack would still come.  He didn't want the
empire he had begun to build in Iowa to be destroyed.  He would
have to do something subtle and decisive, to protect his dreams.
        The bored Air Force officers began to play cards until
their shift was over.  Robert sat out of the way in the cramped
bunker, and reached out to the missile with his powers.  He needed
to know it's abilities, properties and weaknesses.  The way it was
intended to function, and the way one disabled it.
        When the time came he had to be able to find all the
weapons like it in the region, an wipe them out all at once.  He
hoped that would remove all the bombs under Stark's control or at
least the majority of them.
        It was going to take time to do this.  A lot of time, many
hours, perhaps.  It would be worth it, though.  He slipped deep
into a meditative state, oblivious to all else but his intense
study.  He was unaware what was transpiring in the Palace that he
was trying so hard to protect.

        It took a whole 30 minutes before Titan got the nerve to
try out the great Sapphire Throne for size.  He felt fully
qualified to succeed the little punk as emperor someday, and he
intended to pick the right time and place to do it.
        Part of the instructions he'd been given if he ever had to
hold the fort for Robert, was to leave the Dark man's personal
quarters and his women strictly alone.  Robert impressed on him
that the punishment for that would be... severe.  Something about
a gelding.
        However, that left everyone in the Palace not in the harem
up for grabs.  The Power Team was boring.  He'd fucked all the
girls worth fucking, except for the old bat.  He hadn't been able
to hold his gorge down enough to try that.  The men he'd bullied,
or had slapped into line.
        During his tours with mercenary companies in Indo-China,
Hank Dodds, (a.k.a. Titan) had acquired some unusual desires.
They involved underaged girls, and snuff-fucks.  At times, like
now, he had the time and the opportunity to satisfy his desires.
        He summoned one of the prettier girl pages to the throne
room, after ordering everyone else to leave.  The girl stood
before him in the cheery yellow-gold uniform of an Imperial page,
awaiting his orders.  She looked to be 13 or 14, just barely
budding into adolescence.  Titan felt his cock start to stir in
desire.
        "Come here, girl," he said huskily.  she approached him,
unsure of what he wanted.  His hand snaked out and clamped on her
shoulder, making her cry out in pain.  "Kneel," he growled, and
when she didn't obey right away, he forced her to her knees.
        "Don't move," he hissed at her, showing her his other
hand, curled in a fist.  She nodded in fear, having felt just how
strong and fast he was.  He half rose, opening his pants, and
letting his thick cock free to bob in the air in front of the
girl.
        Shocked, she shook her head in fervent denial of his
intentions.  He gave her a gentle slap on the face, that made her
head whip to one side, and vivid finger marks appear on her cheek.
Tears appeared in her eyes, and trickled down in a steady flow.
He fingered her name tag, and pawed her small chest.
        "Blow me, Alyssa," he said, "or I'll get rough."
        Her tear-streaked eyes widened, how could he possibly get
rougher than that?  His slap had almost taken her head off.
Slowly, unwilling, Alyssa opened her lips, and let him draw her
close enough to surround his cock with her warm, wet mouth.
        "Ahh," he sighed in satisfaction.  "Suck me, you little
cunt.  I want to feel my cum go down your throat.  Oh, you have a
hot little mouth, just like the pretty girls in Laos," he said.
He pumped her head on him, pushing his dick deeper down her throat
with every thrust.  "I wonder if you have a hot little cunt, too?
Maybe we'll both find out."
        It wouldn't take him long to cum.  Indulging in one of his
favorite vices right on his bosses 'throne' got him so hard.
Raping Alyssa's mouth like this was better than any of the other
little girls that he'd had.  Except, of course, for the ones he'd
filled with his seed, just as the burning fear in their eyes faded
forever, choked off by his hands tightly clamped around their
throats.  No, there was no orgasm better than that.
        He didn't quite feel free to do that to this girl,
unfortunately.  Since he was 'deputy emperor', he might as well
take advantage of the privileges of the rank.  His gruntings got
louder, and with a deep groan he shot into her mouth, shouting at
her to drink it.
        Alyssa tried, but she shook with terror when she couldn't
help but let some of it dribble down her chin.
        "You careless little...!" he snarled and raised his fist.
        "Stop, Titan!" a clear voice commanded him.  He spun
around to see an angry Rebecca White walking toward them.  "Let
her go!" she said.
        "And why should I?" he sneered.  He still held onto the
girl's shoulder with a painful grip.
        "Leave her alone," she said to him, noting the red marks
on her face, and the semen dripping down her chid, and beading on
her uniform's yellow front.
        "I'm not done with her yet," he said.  "But I've got a
better idea."  He reached besides the throne for the black chain
coiled besides it, with the connector that mated to her dark
serpentine necklace.  "Put that on, and I'll let her go."  He
threw it to her, and she caught it.
        "Let her go, and I'll put it on," Rebecca countered.
"Because you know that my word is worth something, and yours
isn't."
        Titan frowned at her, then with a nasty grin he pushed
Alyssa away.  "Scoot," he said, and she did, rushing out of the
room at a run.
        Rebecca lifted the chain, and connected it to what had
been her collar.  Titan began drawing her closer by the chain,
hand over hand.  "I've been wanting a piece of you since Ol'
Robbie-boy showed us what a hot fuck you are.  And since I'm
holding the fort, and you aren't in the harem, I get to fuck your
lily white cunt.  I'm going to enjoy this, bitch."
        Rebecca tried to resist his pull, out of pride.  The chain
limited her ability to project her white energy, and together with
the collar crippled her powers to resist Robert's corruption.
Only the first function meant much to Titan, she was sure.  She
didn't think that he was really worried about her energy, as he
often boasted of his invulnerability, but the chain did mean she
couldn't escape him.
        "He's been letting you get to his head," Titan growled.
"The upper one, that is.  He's been talking about Laws, and rules,
and I don't like 'em.  I wanna do what I wanna do.  So I'm gonna
teach you to keep your pure heart morality to yourself, sister.
Those of us in power want to enjoy it."
        "You're making a mistake, Henry," Rebecca said.  "He will
not appreciate you acting like this..."
        "What will he care?" Titan smirked.  "You're the thorn in
side," he said as he pulled her short by her chain.  "I figure
that if I tame you he'll give me a medal.  I'd like to do
something that he couldn't do."
        "You're wrong," Rebecca said.  She looked away from him as
she continued.  "I'm ashamed to admit it, but he could have broken
my will, if he had kept going with me, but he *chose* not to.  It
wasn't because he couldn't break me, he just decided not to.  He
didn't want me to be subservient to him, he wanted me to cooperate
willingly."
        "Then he was a fool," Titan said with a merciless smile.
"I'd rather have you as a simpering love-slave.  Prepare for your
first lesson, 'Becky'."  He reached out and tore the pale blue
tailored dress off her, then the rest of her garments.  He stared
hungrily at her for a moment when she stood before him, naked
except for the black necklace and it's chain.  
        He quickly stripped himself, yanking her close to him, and
roughly kissing her.  On reflex she raised her power to strike
him, but the grounding chain protected the mercenary as well as
it had the Emperor.  Rebecca could not stand still and submit to
him quietly, so she struggled.  He was just a strong man, not a
nigh demi-god or demon, and he couldn't coerce her acquiescence.
In frustration, he took matters into his own hands.  Literally.
        Titan put both hands on her left upper arm, and sharply
bent it in the middle.  With a muffled crack the bone broke.  He
made it a clean break; if he had twisted his hands he could have
made multiple fractures and splintered the bone.  He didn't want
her to pass out, just yet.
        Rebecca's face went pale, as the shock went through her.
He pushed her down on her back on the scattered cushions of the
dais.  He was smiling cruelly as he told her the situation.  "If
you fight me anymore, I'll *bump* your arm.  So be a good girl,
and don't fight.  I just want to enjoy fucking you."
        He pulled out the lube he would have used on the page
girl, and gave his thick phallus a liberal coating of it.  She
wasn't wet, he knew, but he didn't care.  His dick was as hard as
steel, and he stabbed her with it as if he meant to kill her.
        She cried out her in pain as he rammed into her.  The
vicious entrance had jostled her injured arm.  His hands curled
under her full ass, forcing her cunt up hard to meet his ravaging
thrusts, doubling the impact.  Between the battering pain of his
brutal rape, and the throbbing pain in her arm, Rebecca was quite
unable to offer any physical resistance to his assault.  Her body
was his plaything.

        Her mind retreated, withdrawing deep within herself.
Distantly she knew what Titan was doing to her.  He was fucking
her as hard as he could, and was starting to get angry at her lack
of response.  He even started poking her bruised and swelling arm,
so he could enjoy the involuntary grimaces she made.
        A part of her had been working on a problem for some time.
Ever since she knew that Robert couldn't manipulate her as he
could everyone else, she had been thinking about it, in the back
of her mind.  His dark power gave him great abilities, limited
only by his febrile imagination.  Hers seemed to be his opposite,
but she had less power... or did she?
        Was it the power that was lacking, or her confidence in
it?  A door opened deep in her mind, and then she knew the answer.
Her power could potentially be as great as his, or even greater...
if only she would believe it to be so.  But she had been chosen
because she felt no craving for personal power.  Her only love was
Justice.  And this certainly was not fair!  In Titan's mind was a
forming plan to kill her as he finished his rape.  It was up to
her do something about it, if she wanted to live.
        She tried to unravel the black collar, and grimaced in
shock as she failed in her first attempt.  It was too hard to try
to fight it's structure when she was in such trauma.  She did
manage to begin a process of healing on herself, and that helped.
She couldn't zap Titan with her power, so what could she do to
stop him?  As she groped for the way to repair herself, she saw
how that ability could be passively used to affect others.
        With a hard shove and a groan, Titan began to come
explosively inside her.  His grin was feral as he reached up to
place his hands firmly around her neck.  A yawn interrupted him,
followed by another one, even stronger.  His hands grew slack on
her throat, and he raised them to rub his eyes.  That orgasm had
felt so good, and he was so tired...  He barely managed to roll
his bulk off Rebecca before he was fully asleep, snoring soundly.
        She pulled a pillow in front of her nude body, and waited.
She couldn't leave the dais with the chain around her neck, and
she was too tired to unravel it.  She had to keep her abuser
asleep if she didn't want him to finish the murder, and assault
her again.  She had to wait for Robert.  Where was the
sonofabitch, anyway?

        Robert's dark eyes opened.  He understood the nuclear
missile in a way he wouldn't be able to articulate in words.  He
reached out throughout his territory and in a large buffer zone
surrounding it, and turned all the nuclear weapons in that area,
...off.  He absorbed their potential energy, and converted the
fissionable materials into harmless clay.
        The Dark man stayed in the bunker long enough to see if
the officers had noticed the change.  No dials or tell-tales had
flickered, so they kept on playing cards.  The inert missiles
could still cause damage to the Palace and the town, so his power
flared again, and disabled the rocket engines as well.  When they
finally turned the keys at Stark's command, it would be too late,
the missiles would stay put.
        He smiled in satisfaction.  Stark's fangs had been pulled,
and the General didn't have a clue.  Robert could take out his
conventional forces long before the mad General's people had a
chance to discover the damage he had done this day, much less be
able to fix it.

        Robert appeared in the command room where Lt. Jenners and
the Power Team waited.  On the big board, the locations of every
U.S. Nuke was pin-pointed in bright red.  With a nod, all the ones
that he had neutralized faded to black, then turned green.  "One
problem resolved," he told them.  "I've turned them all into
paperweights, and I can do the rest when I have the time or need."
        He had expected cheers.  Or at least 'Good job, sir',
along with relieved smiles.  Instead he was greeted by nervous
silence.  Obviously, something else had gone wrong.  Paris had an
expression that could be called vindictive, and Charity was trying
to comfort a female page.
        "What's wrong?" he said.
        "It's Titan," Paris said.  "You remember what I said?"  He
nodded seriously.  When you left, he forced himself on Alyssa,
here.  Rebecca traded herself to him so he wouldn't hurt the girl
any further.  So the brute raped Rebecca instead.  She's still
chained to the throne, in the Grand Hall.  She's trying to keep
him asleep, so he won't kill her."
        Robert's face took on a fierce scowl at this news, and
those present could see why he was called the Dark man.  He didn't
say a word as he turned around and stalked to the throne room,
spinning the Rod easily in his hands as if he intended to do some
'batting practice' with it.
        He paused at the big doors, looking at the big man, who
was sprawled naked on the dais, and the woman seated on his
throne, clutching a large pillow in front of her.  She sighed in
relief when she saw him come in and glare not at her, but at
Titan.  He was followed at a distance by those he'd left in the
Command center, including the young page, who held Charity's hand.
        Robert came up to the dais, and tapped Titan's barrel
chest with the Rod lightly, to ensure his slumber.  "You can relax
Rebecca, I've got him."  He turned and gestured at Rebecca, and
she was cleaned and dressed.  He drew the pillow from her she was
desperately clutching, as gently as he could.  His fingers were
feather light as he released the chain, then stroked her face.
        "Are you alright?" he said.
        "No," she said, her voice trembling.  "He broke my arm."
        He reached for her arm, noticing her flinch involuntarily
from his touch.  When he used his power on her, he noted that for
once it wasn't conflicting with hers, and that she'd already been
healing herself some.  "Just stay here," he said softly.
        Robert stepped back, and with a flash of dark light,
dressed Titan as well.  He grabbed him by the collar, and dragged
him down the dais steps, letting him awake as he did so.  "Rise 
and shine!" he said.  "Come on, Titan, I want to talk to you."
        Titan got up fast, taking in the scene at a glance.  He
decided that his only way out of the mess he was in would be to
kill Robert, and fast.  With no warning, he attacked the Dark man.
        A black bolt surrounded the thick man as he came at Robert,
but it didn't stop him.  Titan grinned, taunting, "Losing your
touch, 'M'lord'?  You know there's only two kinds... the quick...
and the dead!" with that he swung with all his might.  The 
snapping sound from his blow made everyone wince, until they saw
Robert standing unmoved, and Titan cradling a broken hand.
        "You know, I'm the one that gave those Powers you were so
proud of," Robert said, conversationally.  "Didn't it occur to you
that I could also take them away at any time?  You can't be
trusted with them, and so you'll never again have them."  Robert
gestured at the other man's groin, "And you can't be trusted with
that, either."  Titan stared numbly at him, unable to comprehend
what he meant.
        "Lady Web," Robert said, "give me what he did to you all;
what Paris told me about this morning."  The redhead's eyes shone
as she established the mental connections, not only with the Team,
but to the girl and to Rebecca.  Robert winced at the rawness of
the abuse, and bowed his head.  He'd made Titan his deputy, the
spaceship shows he'd seen on TV had taught him that a commander
was responsible for the actions of his subordinates.
        The Emperor sat on the dais steps, and gestured for Alyssa
to come to him.  The girl went straight to his arms and cried.  He
patted her gently, "It will be alright, Alyssa," he said to her.
"He won't be able to hurt you again.  Go ahead and go back to your
quarters."  With a sniffle and a peck on his cheek, she went.
        Robert reached inside of Titan's mind, and he recoiled at
what he found there.  Robert had found the limit to his darkness
and corruption, as Rebecca had foreseen.  What this man had done,
and was capable of doing was too sick for even the Dark man's 
sensibilities, thought he caught a hint from the Rod that it
wouldn't have balked at that level of evil.
        "As a man, you are a murderer and a rapist, and you always
will be.  So I will now take something else away from you that you
don't need."  Another flare of black, and Hank Dodds was briefly
concealed by it.  When it faded away, the man who had been Titan
was now a woman!
        "I've instituted Road Gangs" Robert said, "as a way of
making hardened criminals useful in my Empire.  I don't assign you
to join them -- instead I sentence you to serve them.  You will be
cook, laundress, maid and concubine, to every man on the gang I
send you to.  In other words, I mean to see that you get a belly
full of what you've been dishing out for all these years."  He
grinned evilly.  "Guards!  Haul him... I mean HER out of here."
Robert watched as they hauled the prisoner away.
        Robert turned to the Team.  "I'm sorry this had to happen.
Paris, I should have had that meeting with you right away, and
remembered what you said.  He shouldn't have been left in charge
when I'd already been told he'd had his hand in the cookie jar."
He shook his head, "Alyssa shouldn't have had to pay for my
mistakes, nor Rebecca either."  The Dark man sighed.  "I try to
learn from my errors, and I know now I should have let you choose
your own leader.  So, who is it going to be?"
        The Team muttered among themselves for short time, and
quickly came to a consensus.  A friendly, but un-gentle shove
pushed the bald black man to the forefront of the group.
        "Hey!" Teke said.  "I don't want to be no damned leader,
I've got no taste for it."
        Charity came up to him, and gently touched near the
stitches on his brown cheek.  "You're the only one of us who tried
to stand up to him.  Your words inspired us, while _his_ inspired
only loathing and fear.  It has to be you."
        "I just couldn't stand to you see any of you hurt," he
said.  "Especially..." his words trailed off as he started deep in
her eyes.  Charity smiled hugely and wrapped her arms around him.
He looked up helplessly at Robert, who shrugged, smiling.
        "The Team has spoken," Robert said.  "You've got a lot to
do in order to get these people working together as a Team."
        "Ah, hell," Teke swore, and laughter answered him.  "I
suppose the first thing would be if we learned to trust one
another."
        "Good," Robert said.  "Now, get 'em out of here.  I have
to talk to Rebecca."
        They left, and he walked up the steps, and picked up the
trembling woman in his arms.  He carried her to her bedroom, and
sat her against her pillows.  He sat on the end of the bed.
        "I'm sorry, Rebecca," he said.  "This wasn't supposed to
happen."
        "I know," she said.  "But he was only following your
example.  Don't you see, that as a leader, if you set a rule that
you don't follow yourself, you are only a hypocrite.  If you
enforce a rule that you break yourself, you are a tyrant, and not
a leader."
        "Damn it," he said frowning, "that will be so hard."
        She sighed, in no mood to fence with him, or to pull her
punches.  "The government you want will demand more of you than it
will required of any of your citizens.  If you aren't willing to
pay that price, all you have to do is abandon your dreams."
        "Ouch," he said.  "I do want laws, but laws untainted by
the stupid morals and petty regulations of the United States.  If
they must apply to me as well, then that is the price that I will
have to pay.  You're right about that."  He reached up and melted
the black collar from around her slender neck.  "There, you're
free.  Will you consider staying on and helping me with my dream?"
        "I don't know," she said.  "So much has happened."  She
put her face in her hands.  "I wouldn't know where to go."
        "What is your dream?" he said, realizing he had never
asked her anything personal like that before.  He wished he'd done
so earlier.
        "My Dream is Justice," she said.  "But maybe our dreams
are not incompatible.  Perhaps there is hope for you yet."


To be Continued...

December, 1997 -- Darkside: United States of Anarchy, Part 10 of 20.
Series Continues after #20 in Darkside: Imperial States of America.


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From kmcclure@goldrush.com Thu Feb 19 17:48:55 1998

DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "A little Power..."

[Disclaimer: This text is intended for adult audiences, if you are 
not of age to view it, be somewhere else.  This series of stories 
explores the darker aspects of the human experience, if that might 
offend you, then you were warned, and it isn't my problem. -- KTM]

        Anything can happen in the Multiverse.  Even a world that
is much like ours, but which somehow... isn't.  A world that is a
magnet for the blackness in the dreams and souls of humankind.  A
world known as: The Darkside.

        The World's economic system depends on a delicate
interlocking system of mutual trust and financial debt.  When
those bonds shattered, the governments and monetary institutions
crumbled.  Even the most idealistic civil servants left their jobs
when their families were gripped with hunger.  The Survivors of
the Chaos would come to call their nation the United States of
Anarchy.


Chapter 9.  "A little Power is a Dangerous Thing."  -- by KTM.


        Rebecca waited in Robert's comfortable study, wrestling 
with her confusion.  Liz hadn't been added to his bevy of 
brain-dead love slaves in his so-called 'harem'.  And when she and
Liz had talked this morning, the pretty scientist hasn't acted as 
if she had been raped, as Rebecca had in her first 'encounter' 
with the Dark man.  Had the Devil changed his tune?  It seemed so, 
but it was too late for her.
        One of the orphans that lived in the Palace, acting as an
Imperial Page, and given Rebecca a black rose, and a politely
phrased request for her to join him in his study at noon.  She'd
gotten there at 15 minutes before the hour, to find the usually
sealed door wide open, and the room empty.
        There were two chairs arranged by the fireplace, and she 
sat on the marginally smaller blue one, leaving the massive black
leather monstrosity for Robert.  A minute before noon he strode 
into the room.  His punctuality would have been more impressive if
she hadn't have felt him teleport from somewhere else to just 
outside the room in the hallway.
        "Good afternoon, Rebecca," he said to her.  She was still
holding the dark rose.  He was wearing a white rose in the lapel
of his black Italian silk suit.
        "Hello, Robert," she said.  "What is it you wanted to meet
me for?"
        "This isn't easy for me to say," he said, his tone 
betraying a faint tension.  "I'm asking you to do what you do 
best, and read between the lines."
        "I will try, Robert," she said neutrally.
        "I have never said that I know everything," he said, 
gazing away from her.  "And it is... possible, that I have made a 
mistake concerning you.  At times my thinking can be simplistic.  
I assumed if I dominated you physically, and sexually, that 
mentally you would be mine as well.  I can accept that might not 
be true.  Is it?"
        "No, Robert," Rebecca said.  "I may do what you say to 
avoid having a... 'session' with you, but I rarely find myself 
agreeing with you."
        He turned back to her, "It has occurred to me, that I need 
to respect the people who's intellectual contributions are 
important to me and my empire.  Liz is one of them, and I found 
that respect can be difficult, but not impossible for me.  You are
another, and I'm afraid there is already to much 'history' between
us for you to ever fully support me."
        His control slipped for a moment, and his face took on a
haunted mein, reflecting the tension that he lived with every day.
"The truth is, Rebecca, that I need you besides me.  I need your 
will to oppose mine.  Your input makes me a better leader.  
Because of this, I'm asking you to put aside our differences when 
you work with me."
        "And in return?" Rebecca said, pushing him.
        "And in return..." he said, slowly, "I'll try to respect 
your individuality, and to remember that you might not like to be
sexually used, or even casually groped."  
        "To use someone, and to respect them, are often 
contradictory," Rebecca pointed out.
        Annoyance flashed over his face, followed by a faint 
smile.  "I know.  And that's what I meant, you can make me mad so
easily, but you always make me think.  Give me your hands," he 
said.  "Please," he added.
        She set the rose down, and held out her slender hands to
him.  Robert took them in his big square hands, looking at the
contrast between them.  He smiled at her, and touched the black
bracelets of her bondage, and dissolved them.  He looked at her
collar, but left it on her.  He wasn't sure he trusted her that
much, yet.
        "I don't need to bind you, anymore," he said.  "But you 
are still my adversary.  You understand."
        "I understand that you are threatened by me," she said
fearlessly.  "But not why you must humiliate me with a sign of
slavery."
        His jaw worked as he fought down an impulse to snap at 
her.  "Ok.  How about this."  He touched it, and it softened,  
turning into a linked serpentine necklace of glossy black metal. 
There was an odd loop on it, that she knew was the connector to 
the chain.  He had altered the form, but not the function.
        "It doesn't help," she said.  "I'm still your prisoner."  
        "But you won't be humiliated anymore, right?" he said.      
        "Only if you *never* put me in a public scene without my 
consent, as you did with Kitten," she said.  "Promise me that, on 
your empire, and I'll accept what you're trying to say for now.  
But I will wait for the day that you will apologize to me and 
truly mean it."
        "Lotsa luck on that one, babe," he retorted.  "But as for
the public scenes, I can see your point.  On my Empire, and my 
love of it, I swear never to involve you in a 'scene' in public
without first asking for, and receiving your explicit consent.  Is
that what you wanted?"
        "That will do fine, Robert, for now," she said.  "But 
don't think that I'm done working on you."
        "Nor I, you, sweety," he said with a grin.  "Or haven't 
you noticed that you can now contemplate sexual acts that before
you met me would have put your lily white heart into a flutter. 
The society you represent is dead and gone, and I mean to drag  
it's descendants away from the guilt and obsession over sex."
        "And you go too far," she said.  "The only society you
represent would have fit in with the rightly infamous Court of 
Caligula. Is that what you want for your empire?"
        "Perhaps there's a happy medium there," he allowed.  "But 
it will probably be awhile before we find it."
        "Probably," she agreed.  "Is that all?"
        "Yes," he said.  "You can go."  She nodded and left the
study, leaving behind the black rose.  He pulled the white rose
from his lapel, and studied it's clean perfection.  He didn't know
what he wanted to see in it, but he felt that symbolized something
he was missing.

        A few day later, on a day when Robert wasn't holding 
court, Rebecca was called to meet his first power team.  He'd said
they were an interesting group of people, and she had to agree.   
     Rebecca had already seen two of the nine members, the big 
bruiser named Titan, and the young speedster Jerry both of whom 
were waiting at the throne room conference table.  There were 
three other men, and four women ready to be introduced.
        Robert stood, "For the record, I'm Robert Black.  This is 
my advisor, Rebecca White.  Seated are Hank Dodds, known as Titan, 
and Jerry Conners, known as Blur.  I'd like you to introduce 
yourself, and take your seat.  Alphabetical is ok?"  He sat, and
scarcely waited for a response.  "Al-Raji," Robert said.
        A blue haired young man about Jerry's age stepped forward.
He was of Middle Eastern decent, and wore neat clothes.  "My name
is Luke," he said good, but faintly accented English.  "I'm a
naturalized citizen, my folks moved here when I was a baby.  He
touched his azure hair, "I just got this not long ago, when I 
gained the ability to throw around blue energy bolts, and to fly. 
I think I would like to be called 'Sapphire'.  'Saf'-'fire', get
it?" he grinned and sat.
        Robert rolled his eyes.  "Uh-huh, I get it.  Barrett, 
you're next."
        "My name is Joane," said the red-head with green eyes.  
Her voice was low and husky, and her chest was quite prominent in
comparison to her waist.  Her clothes were well made, of subdued
colors.  "My talent can telepathically link a small group of 
minds, and for that I am called Lady Web," she sat down as she 
said this.  "It also tells me if others are telling the truth.  
For instance, 'Sapphire' lied about his real name."
        "Mr. Al-Raji?" Robert said, his manner questioning.       
        "I just turned 18," the young man said defensively.  "I 
hadn't had a chance to change it yet before the courts closed.  
I just like 'Luke' better than 'Ali'."
        Joane Barrett nodded at his response.  "Truth; that you 
intended to change your name.  Half-truth; that you like the name 
better than the one you were born with."
        "Alright," Ali said, sounding harassed.  "Truth is, I 
don't really care, but Americans respond to me better when I use
Luke."
        "That may have been important in your last position, Ali," 
Robert said.  "But here you are among supporters.  Please feel 
free to be yourself."  The young man nodded.
        "Fisher," Robert said.  "You're next."
        "My name is Karen, and I'm an Iroquois Native American."
She was young, and very muscular for her slender build.  Her brown
complexion and raven black hair framed a delicate face that was 
set off by a severe expression.  "My powers make me strong and 
tough.  I also have a set of 'shadow' wings I control when I fly, 
that I'm told aren't really there.  I chose the name Osprey."  She
sat down.
        "Thank you, Karen.  Your turn, Miss Jones." Robert said.  
        "My name is Charity," said the light chocolate colored 
woman.  She was short, but nicely rounded.  She spoke in a soft,
slow Southern accent.  "I won't use a fancy name.  All I can do is
feel what other people are feeling.  I can't tell if a cold person
is lying, but most folks get edgy and nervous when they lie, so I
can mostly tell when they do.  Besides that, I'm not really sure 
what I'm doing here."
        "You'll do fine, Charity, take your seat," Robert said.  
"Melaui?" 
        "My name is Tim," the Polynesian boy in the loud tropical 
shirt said. "My folks came from Fiji originally, but I'm a native  
born American.  I have the power to teleport short distance in my  
line of sight.  Luckily I can carry my clothes and anything I have 
on me."  He smiled.  "I wanted to be called 'Prodigal Sorcerer',  
but Mr. Black wouldn't allow it.  He calls me Warp."  He sat down.    
        Robert smiled.  "I don't care for your 'Poke' jokes.  I 
thought you needed a short name easy to yell.  Frequently.  Mr. 
Peters, if you please?"
        "My name is Zechiel," the quiet spoken black man said, 
"but everyone calls me Zeke.  I couldn't come up with a hero name.
But Mr. Black noted that another term for what I do, telekinesis,
is Teke.  That's what we decided on, since it sounds like with my 
name."  He shrugged and rubbed a hand over his bald head.  "He 
said my power makes me valuable to him."  He took a seat, and 
looked as if he wasn't going to say anything more.
        "Thank you, Zeke," Robert said.  "Mrs. Simmons, you're the
last.  Introduce yourself, please."
        "Hello," said the older graying blonde in a French-
influenced accent.  "My name is Paris, after my parents favorite
city.  I have the power to see what is going on elsewhere.  Our
employer calls me Seeker."  The focus of her eyes turned away, 
gazing at nothing.  "You asked me to see what the children are 
doing in the courtyard, sir.  They are playing flag football.  The
Blue team is winning."  She took her seat.
        "I have discussed your options with all of you," Robert
said.  "This group has decided to join my Special Forces team.
Ultimately, you report to me, through the team Captain I will 
appoint.  He will direct your actions, under my orders."
        He looked at the big man, "Titan, you've been acting as a
sort of Sergeant of Arms for me.  I know you have experience both
in the military and as a mercenary.  You understand that not all 
of them are combatants?"  Henry Dodds nodded.  "Will you take 
command of the team, Hank?"
        "Yes, sir!" Titan said, and saluted crisply.
        "Alright, here are your room assignments, and list of 
duties.  There's also a suggested schedule of drills, but the 
final form of that is up to your Captain," Robert said.  "If you
have any problems, bring them to Hank.  It's his job to bring your
problems to me."
        Rebecca shot him a startled look, and then frowned in 
concern.
        "Ok, people," Titan brayed.  "Let's get a move on.  
C'mon,"
        The black man Zeke, gave him and a cool stare, and walked
to their quarters without an appearance of hurry.  The others 
didn't make eye contact with the big man.
        Rebecca watched them leave, then turned to Robert.
        "What?  Obviously you have a problem," Robert said.  "So, 
out with it."
        "Have you ever heard of the Open Door Policy?" she asked 
him.  Robert nodded, in response.  "It's a way for a subordinate 
to step around his immediate superior if someone in his chain of 
command is corrupt.  You basically shut that door.  If Titan does 
something they don't like, they can't come to you about it without
getting into trouble."
        "I don't need them whining to me for every petty 
grievance," he said, dismissing her concerns.
        "What about major grievances?" she said.  "There is 
nothing worse than being trapped into a corrupt chain of command."
She fingered her black necklace.  "I should know."
        Robert smiled, "Hey, corruption is the name of the game,
babe.  Who ever can get away with doing something, gets it his 
way."
        "You may find, Robert, that some corruption is even more 
than you can stand," she said.  "There are already limits that 
you've imposed on yourself.  Lines you will not cross.  So what
will you do if you encounter someone who violates those rules?"   
     "I'll decide that when I get there, Rebecca.  And now it's
time for my lunch."  He walked away from the table, trying to 
ignore the words she spoke after him.
        "I think you'll get there sooner than you wish..."

        Titan returned to the Power quarters later that evening.
"Im-fucking-pressive!" he said coming in, ignoring Paris's 
disapproving frown at his language.  "He's been beefing up his 
army big time.  It looks like he's stripped the armories of his 
whole territories, and drafting the man power to carry them."  
        He strutted a little.  "We're going to have to learn to 
use our powers well and work as a team, and soon.  The Boss has 
made it clear that I'll suffer if the team isn't up to snuff, and 
that means you guys will suffer if you don't perform to my 
standards.  I'm not gonna let him down, so you better not let ME
down!"
        He stared at them all in turn, daring them to contradict
him.  None of them challenged them.  He nodded and went on.  
"We'll get started in drills first thing in the morning.  So hit 
your bunks and get some sleep, people!"  With little hesitation, 
the varied group of powers went quietly to their rooms.
        The only one that paused was Charity, and that was because
Titan was leaning on her door, and he wasn't moving.  The Southern
woman stood in front of him, suddenly feeling a chill.  "Yes, 
Titan?"
        "Not you sweety," he said.  "You're coming to MY room." 
        She could feel his rising lust, and her chill spiked to 
pure fear. He took her arm in his huge hand, and pulled her 
relentlessly to his room.  Soon the door to his quarters closed 
firmly, cutting off the faint sounds of her tears from the 
hallway.
        Titan pulled her to the bed, and looked down into her
frightened eyes.  "I'm scheduling some extra "empathy" work for   
you, Charity," he said with a mocking tone.  "You can feel what I
want from you, can't ya pretty girl?"  She nodded, terrified of
him.
        His hamlike hands touched her cheek, stroking the mocha
colored skin, drawing down, past her chin, her neck, and collar 
bone, to dip into her blouse's cleavage.  He slipped his whole 
hand inside her blouse top, grabbing the fabric and tearing it off
her.  His tongue wet his lips, as he stared hungrily at her chest.
        Her bra was a soft, front-catch variety, and he unhooked 
it brusquely, shoving the cups aside to palm the round globes of 
her ample breasts.  She gasped in shock as he grabbed her chest,
squeezing her tits firmly.  She had to fight the urge to try to 
step back or to push away his hands.  Her feelings told her he
would punish her if she did, and Charity didn't like pain.
        He pulled up on them, forcing her on her tiptoes to ease
the strand he was putting on her flesh.  He ducked his head and
slathered his hot wet tongue over her dusky nipples.  His mouth
roamed over her tits; kissing, sucking, and licking.  She wasn't
sure what was worse, his tight hands, his insistent mouth, or his
grey beard stubble.
        He pulled away a fraction, "Rub me!" he growled, and then
lunged at her left nipple, teeth bared.  She cried out as she felt
his hard teeth nip at her sensitive nipple.  Her hand trembling,
she reached to the front of his pants, and rubbed over the rigid
bulge that she found there.  He grunted and thrust against her
hand.  He met her eyes again under lowered brows, and didn't even 
have to tell her to open his pants.  Her hands fumbled to answer
his unspoken demands.
        His pole was impressive when she freed it.  Like him, it 
was big, and nearly bigger around than it was long.  Her fingers
lightly brushed the feverish male flesh, before grasping it 
tightly.  He raised his face, and kissed her brutally.  He thrust
his broad tongue deep into her mouth, sliding it wildly inside.   
     Titan stepped back and said, "Strip!" while quickly taking 
off his own black uniform.  Her whole body shook as she disrobed, 
her eyes like those of a frightened doe, when facing the ravenous 
wolf.
        He pushed her down on his bed, grabbing her legs, and 
dragging bottom to the very edge of the bed.  He spat on his 
hands, rubbed it on his cock, and stepped between her splayed 
thighs to thrust his meat between her cunt lips.  The big man's 
hands reached down and grabbed her ass, forcing himself to ever 
deeper penetration.  Brutally, he pulled her tight snatch down on 
his thick pole.
        She squealed in fierce pain at the burning stretch that 
she felt inside.  He growled and grunted in a bestial fashion,  
leaning his whole weight on her slight form.  He was intent on  
nothing but to sink his big cock all the way in her, single 
mindedly pushing for his goal.
        Feverishly he plowed into her, ignoring her cries of pain,
disgust, and muted outrage.  His hands worked her ass, twisting 
and grinding to get his meat sunk to the hilt.  Once he hit bottom 
in her, his hands when to her back, pulling her against him, 
lifting her, so he could throw their joined bodies more fully on 
the bed.  He laid on her heavily, and growled at her, "Lock your 
legs behind me, cunt, I need my hands free."
        Trembling, she complied.  His hands clamped down on her
tits, and started mauling and squeezing.  He rutted his sex in her
body, puffing like a freight train from the effort of his thrusts,
as hard as hammer blows.  Charity tried to block out his mind-
numbing lust, knowing that he only wanted to use her body.  If she
let herself emotively participate in his arousal, she would let him
think that she enjoyed his vicious assault.
        As she suffered through his pummeling from her what she 
would freely given for the asking, she tried to think.  One of her
abilities was to project intense feelings.  She ached to lash out 
with her emotive matrix of fear/pain/rage/humiliation mixed with 
betrayal and hopelessness in revenge for his assault.  
        But more than she wanted that vengeance, she feared his 
violent response.  If those feelings poured into him, he might 
simply crush the life of the cause of his discomfort.  So she 
leashed her terrors, and  tried to be stoic about his endless 
sweaty invasion of her body.
        He became more vocal, and more violent, as he neared his
completion.  "Yeah, pretty cunt!  Oh, whimper for me, bitch, I 
like into hurt.  God! I like fucking your unwilling cunt so hard. 
I get off on rape more than anything.  Can't wait to fuck the 
other babes, too!"  His hands squeezed her tits harder, creamy 
flesh turning white between his thick splayed fingers. "Fuck me 
bitch!   Squeeze your cunt on me, whore, or I'll rip 'em off!"  
        Through her pouring tears, Charity deliberately contracted 
her cunt muscles around him, as he came for what seemed like 
forever inside her.  Despite her pain, she began to vicariously
participate in his release with her empathy.  He abruptly pulled
out of her and raised to his knees, to finish cumming on her body. 
       He sprayed his jets of sperm on her belly, giving a barking
laugh while subjecting her to this final indignity.  He pulled her
leg out of his way, and sat heavily, as his meat became flaccid. 
"Get out of my bed, cunt, and hurry up."
        Charity tried to move, with little success.  Her pelvis 
ached, and her insides felt raw.  "I said get off, bitch!"  A long
brawny arm reached out and shoved her unceremoniously to the 
floor.  He laid back on the bed, and wriggled to a comfortable
position.  "Now get to your own room, I need my sleep."
        She struggled to rise, and managed to start crawling on 
her hands and knees towards his door.
        "Oh for the love of... Goddamit, you're making a mess." He
lurched up, grabbed her by the waist, and lifting her to her feet. 
He opened the door and shoved her into the dark hallway.  Then he
slammed his door shut.
        Charity stood shakily, leaning hard against the wall, 
nude.  She was dripping with his cum and decorated with his 
bruises.  She slowly turned to her room, and slid along the wall,
trying not to fall down.  She cringed when she heard a door open.
The only thing worse than him coming back after her, was one of 
the others seeing her like this.
        A fair slender arm slipped around her, and she felt 
supported.  Together, she and her helper got her to her bathroom,
where a careful and gentle toweling cleaned up the worst traces of
her disgrace.  Charity didn't have the strength to shower, so that
would have to do for tonight.  The shivering young woman curled up
in her bed in a ball, and looked up miserably at the pale blue 
eyes of the older woman.  
        "Thanks," she whispered.
        "Glad to help," said Paris Simmons as she left the room.
'But it's not over yet', she thought to herself.

        The next day, a cheerful Titan walked down the hall, 
pounding on the doors of his team, shouting for them to wake up.
Charity groaned and slowly washed her self and got dressed.  Her
breasts and pelvis ached with pain, and her hips felt unsteady, 
but dressed she looked alright.  He hadn't touched her face, neck, 
or hands.  By the time he pounded again on her door, raising his
voice in anger at her tardiness, she was as ready as she was going
to be.
        The old bat was staring at him with a disapproving 
expression.  He glared back at her, unsure of what she might know
or would say, but trying to intimidate her with his stare.  She
didn't budge.  When he turned around, Zeke was holding Charity by
the arm and looking concerned as she stumbled.  Titan strode over 
and slapped away the black man's arm.
        "Don't coddle the girl," he said curtly.  A flare of hot
anger shone in Zeke's eyes, and Titan took it as a challenge.  He
balled his fists and leaned his bulk towards the smaller man.  "If
you're feeling froggy, Nigger, then why don't you jump!"  The eyes 
of the bald man turned stone cold, and he would not turn them 
away.  Titan raised his fist, while power crackled around the 
Psionicist.
        "No!" Charity pleaded, not daring to touch either man, but
interposing herself between them.  "I'll be alright, Zeke," she
said quickly, swallowing hard.  "Titan is right."  While keeping
her eyes on Titans steely grey eyes, she reached out with her 
power, and let a sliver of her terror intersect Zeke's aura.  He
jumped in shocked surprise.
        "Good girl," the big man said, oblivious to the power she
had used.  His smile was half a leer at her, and half a sneer  for
the cowardice he perceived in the Telekinetic.  "You heard the 
girl, *BOY*, so back off.  Let's remember the chain of command and
try to look professional here."
        For the rest of the training period, he rode them hard. He
spent the time watching them, while standing aloof.  He also was
watching the bodies of the two younger women.  Karen avoided him,
and even cool Joanne tended to lean away from the big man  when he
got near.
        During dinner, he seemed relaxed and happy.  Charity
shuddered at something underneath his pleasant facade that none of
the others could see.  Titan addressed the team afterwards.  
"Based on your performances, I'm restricting some of you to 
quarters tonight.  You sucked in the exercises and drills, and
obviously need your rest.  But don't worry, I'll whip you all into
shape, in time."  He smiled wickedly.
        "Charity, you need to take care of yourself better.  
Paris, you're letting yourself go to pot, lady.  Tim, you're gonna
lose some of that baby fat!  If I see any of you out of your rooms
before  morning, you'll be subject to discipline.  And I'm allowed
a bit  of leeway in administering that discipline."  He smiled
again, and none of them liked it this time.  "Dismissed!"
        At Joanne's door that night, there was a knock.  The red
haired woman opened the door, and saw Titan standing there.       
"Miss Barrett?  I know that it's late, but there's  something I
need you to see in my quarters..."
        
        In the weeks that followed, the Power team had the 
occasional day off from their oppression.  Paris Simmons, Seeker,
sat patiently awaiting a chance to see Robert during one of the
days he held open court.  Her name was one of the last, and the
Steward warned her that Robert sometimes cut off the last few
interviews.  However, if the those petitioners turned up for the 
next session, they had priority.
        She waited anyway, and finally walked into the great room
with her cane, to stand leaning of the polished wood and the 
golden point.
        "Paris!" Robert said.  "Come over to the table," he 
invited.  He waved at the Steward to end the day's interviews. 
"How are you?" he inquired.
        "A little tired, sir.  Titan emphasizes the physical 
training a bit much for my tastes."  She smiled wryly, "Though I'm
able to do more sit-ups and push-ups than I have for years."      
        "I've underlined readiness with him," Robert said, "but he 
also has to work within your contracts.  Your contract specifies 
that you are not a combat operative, and though I can't blame him 
for wanting you all physically fit, he shouldn't push anyone too 
hard."
        "That's what I wanted to tell you, sir," Paris insisted.
"The team is in serious trouble, and it's only going to get worse!
A single disruptive member is being abusive, destroying our 
morale."
        "Surely Titan can deal with..." Robert began, with a 
faintly bored tone.
        "It *IS* Titan, sir!" she interrupted with a note of
desperation.  "You have no idea what he's doing to us."
        "It can't be all that bad," Robert said.  "I'll have a 
talk with him, if you like."
        "No!" she pleaded.  "If you talk to him about this, he'll
just take it out on us.  I'm asking you for a meeting with all of
us, where we can tell you what's been happening."
        Robert sighed.  "The whole reason I appointed a captain,
was so I wouldn't have to hear all the petty bickering.  Can't you
just give him your concerns?"
        "The last person to do that," she said stiffly, "was 
slapped in the face, and required four stitches.  I'm told the
official report said that he had 'suffered a fall'.  I was there 
and I saw the slap, and the blood.  We really do need this meeting
with you."
        "I saw the report on Zeke," Robert said with concern.
"Alright.  I'll schedule that meeting when I have time.  The local
U.S. Military is getting aggressive, and I'm having to keep an eye
on the situations."
        "Thank you sir," she said, wearily getting to her feet 
with the aid of her cane.  She mummered softly as she left, "I 
only hope that you're in time."


To be Continued...

September, 1997 -- Darkside: United States of Anarchy, Part 9/20.
Series Continues after #20 in Darkside: Imperial States of America.


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