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DKUSAN05 hurt any people and
DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "Gifts of Power."
[Version Control : Original.]
[Disclaimer: This text is intended for adult audiences, if you are
not of age to view it, be somewhere else. This series of
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 5. "Gifts of Power." -- by KTM.
A few weeks later, Robert controlled several nearby towns
and cities. He controlled most Chickasaw, his home county, and
part of two others, Fayette and Brewer, all in the Northeast part
of Iowa. He was creating from nothing the materials and supplies
needed to keep his small empire running, but it was easier still to
create the raw materials and absorb the infrastructure to process
it by capture or treaty. Some of the towns surrendered to him, and
some had put up a fight, but in the end, they had fallen under his
control.
Many had joined his first soldiers, in lieu of
any other useful employment because soldiering paid twice as much
as menial labor. His currency, the Imperial dollar (I$), had his
face on the front and the Palace's outline on the back. Some
jokester wag had suggested the sarcastic motto "In Rod We Trust,"
as a punchline, but it stuck anyway. Digging ditches was I$1 an
hour, for up to 10 hours a day, 5 days a week. On the other hand,
being a basic soldier in the army paid I$100 a week.
I$20 would buy one ounce of silver, and 20 ounces of silver
would buy one ounce of gold. Some of Robert's sources had
suggested that he back his currency with a set exchange of precious
metal, and it had worked. Unlike the worthless US Currency,
Imperial dollars meant something, at least where the black Imperial
flag waved. It wasn't a perfect solution, following in the
footsteps of a failed economic system, but it was a start, and it's
familiarity had greased the wheels of economic activity.
Wolf was still around, unlike most of the original Midnight
Guard composed of the ex-brigands. One by one they had broken
rules or crossed the Dark man, and had paid the ultimate price.
Wolf was the boss of a select group of soldiers, whose job was to
back up the standard military at need, and to bring in alive any
Powers they found. They'd been given special items that would
allow them to capture any one with 'Super' gifts, and they were
looking for an opportunity to use them.
They were investigating strange reports from Deer Falls, a
town on the edge of the empire. Food and supplies were
disappearing from the town with only a frequently reported blur to
indicate any reason. Part of the Midnight Guard was assigned to
determine the cause of the raids and to report back to the boss.
They'd been there for days, and no news had come in yet. Robert
knew it was only a matter of time before his squads brought him the
first of the Emergent Powers that he sought to work for him.
Before Deer Falls had fallen to him, the raids were
infrequent, the towns being no better off than the surrounding
communities. But when Robert had the textile mill that had been
boarded up for years re-opened, jobs and pride had come back, too.
With that prosperity, the raids had become bolder and more common.
Robert was on his throne, talking to the representative of
a nearby county when the Midnight Guard arrived with the grimy
prisoner. He was a man, clad in a heavy set of shackles, the
weight of which reduced him to a weary shuffle. Wolf came to the
foot of the dais and whispered a report to his master.
Intrigued, Robert rose from the sapphire slab, and
descended down to the steps. He took hold of the heavy chain
attached to the massive black collar around the captive's neck, and
forced the light brown eyes to meet his black ones.
"Hello, Jerry," he said pleasantly. "Pleased to meet you."
The man's face worked, but an abrupt yank on the chain caused the
wad of spittle he let fly to splatter on the floor. "Naughty,
naughty!" Robert said. "I shall have to let you work off all that
aggression."
Robert pulled on the chain again, sharply, and it all came
off in his hands, shackles, manacles and collar. The named
Jerry stood free. He turned and bolted for the doors, which were
already mostly closed. He moved so fast he began blurring, but he
just hadn't got up to speed fast enough. By the time he realized
he wasn't going to make it and put on the brakes, he was already
too close. He crashed painfully into the big doors, and lay
stunned, holding his bloody nose.
"Nice move, Mr. Conners," Robert said, applauding with
polite gentility. "Have you chased any parked cars lately?"
With a curse, Jerry Conners got up and charged at the Dark
man. Those familiar with the Emperor's temper expected to see
mayhem, but he just stood there. Jerry blurred again, running in
a tight circle around the big man, and onlookers could hear an
almost continual series of blows hitting Robert, but his target
remained unmoved.
"When your fists get tired, Mr. Conners," Robert said,
while the blows rained on him, "perhaps we can talk. I think we
have a lot to discuss."
Conners came to a sudden halt in front of him. "And why
should I talk to a murdering traitor like you?"
"Murdering traitor?" Robert said. "Do you think that is
what the British called the American founding fathers? And those
gentlemen didn't have the excuse of their lawful government
dissolving around them. They only had some pitiful complaints of
unfair treatment. I prefer to consider myself a revolutionary,
seeking to replace a corrupt and abdicated system."
Robert turned to the petitioner, who stood gaping at the
bizarre apparition of a achieving speeds in real life that
before had only been achieved with rubber-muscle suits and cheesy
special effects on the small screen.
"Mr. Duncan," Robert said. "Tell us why Winneshiek County,
Iowa wants to join my empire."
"Well, you have power and gas," he said. "Folks here
have food, and they're working again. And those soldiers of yours
keep away the raiders. They've been hitting us instead, we lost
two women to raiders this last week."
"Sign the agreement," Robert said, "and I'll have units in
your county tomorrow, as well as everything else my administration
offers. I will be honest with you. I would have had my army there
soon anyway to conquer you, but I appreciate the civilized gesture
you are making."
"He's robbing you of your liberty, and destroying what's
left of the nation," the speedster said to the man.
"Liberty don't mean nothing when your kids are hungry,"
Duncan shot back. "People here are *more* free. They don't have
to scavenge or steal to scrape up a living, and they don't have to
cower behind their doors at night. As for the nation, shit!
What's it done for me lately? Took a third of my income last year
in taxes, that's what. The bastards in Washington let my factory
job that I worked 18 fucking years go to Mexico, and I don't even
get a pension. I was supposed to retire soon, dammit. I never got
one of those IRA's, because I invested in the Pension Fund. Look
where that got me."
"Basic support is guaranteed in my empire," Robert said.
"If you're cold and hungry you're not a productive citizen."
"So, you're just going to give food and shelter away?"
Jerry challenged.
"That's right, I am," Robert said. "I'm going to set up a
flat Imperial sales tax eventually, to offset the cost of the
administration and staff. I won't need any of it myself, though.
Tell me something, Jerry, what is wealth?"
"Huh?" Jerry said. "What is wealth?"
"Amassing wealth is the comfort of knowing that should
times get rough, you will still be ok," Robert explained. "It
doesn't help when the medium of wealth becomes worthless, though.
But I don't need that kind of wealth." He held up his hands,
spread flat, and a rain of gold coins poured onto them from out of
the thin air. The coins fell in a steady stream, spilling over and
falling in a growing pile on the floor.
Duncan picked one of them up, and peered at it closely, he
even bit it. "It's real!" he said.
"Keep it, Mr. Duncan," Robert invited, as he stopped the
golden rain, but still had his hands full of the shiny coins.
"Isn't that just a bribe?" Jerry asked Duncan.
Robert swept his hands out, scattering what was in his
hands across the room, and making the piles at his feet vanish.
Wolf picked up a coin off the floor, and bit it. "Aw, it's
chocolate!" he said, as he peeled the foil off.
"Quit complaining," Robert said. "I pay you well enough."
Wolf nodded, and ate the candy.
Robert called someone to handle the paperwork with Mr.
Duncan, and turned back to the speedster. "Why are you raiding my
towns, Mr. Conners?" he asked. He walked back to his throne, and
put his hands on the black Rod that awaited him there, beside it.
"I have a to feed," Jerry said, his voice filled
with sarcasm, "and no-one's giving away free food in my town." He
frowned, thinking hard about what he'd seen and heard.
"I'll see that your is fed," Robert said. "Just
stop raiding, and talk to your town about joining my area. I'd
like you to work for me. I'm going to be actively recruiting
Powers of all kinds, and you'll find it pays extremely well."
He extended a hand. "I'm willing to forgive your thefts.
You didn't any of my people, and you were only trying to help
your family. I can sympathize with that. My powers came too late
for me to help my family. All I could do is avenge the dead and to
rescue the living."
Jerry stared at the outstretched hand, but he didn't reach
out. "Go ahead and take it," Robert said. "All it means is you
will abide by my laws, and promise to convey my invitation to your
town. You don't have to work for me, now or ever, if you don't
want to. Though you will have to find some useful employment.
Perhaps you could be a courier?"
"You'll really help us, like with that other county?" the
young said, uncertainly. He slowly reached out his hand
towards Robert's, but he didn't quite take it.
"Yes, I will," Robert said. He bridged the gap, reaching
the rest of the way to grasp the speedster's hand. "One day I will
do that for the whole country." He laid in a mild 'geas' on the
young that would insure the oral bargain, and placed a 'tag' on
him so that he could be traced if it became necessary. "Go ahead
and go to the kitchens. Get yourself a good meal, and take some
food home for your family. Can you run all the way home?"
"I think so," Jerry said. He looked a little dazed at his
change in fortunes. "Sir," he finished finally.
"Alright then," Robert smiled at him. "I look forward to
seeing you again. Come back soon with your town's answers."
The speedster looked to the huge double doors, which were
silently opening once more. He rubbed his nose. "Wouldn't want to
do that again," he smiled ruefully.
Robert clapped him on the shoulder familiarly, and called
for a staff person to get Jerry some food, and anything else he
required, like a bath and clean clothes.
He turned to seat himself on his throne once more. It was
still part of his open court time, and he felt it important to set
a good example. Still, there was no reason why he couldn't make
himself comfortable.
He called out his red-furred wench, Traci, out from the
harem to the throne room. She came out, clad only in her fur, and
a series of well placed silk straps. He looked at her admiringly,
then gestured for her to seat herself on the soft golden cushions
at the foot of his throne. She'd long since accepted her new life,
and enjoyed it.
The cat-woman sat besides him, and wriggled against his
leg, purring. Someone from the kitchens brought in a drink, and
Traci took it from them, and held it up for him. He smiled at her
and took it, stroking her with the side of his foot. His other
hand rested casually on the Rod, standing independently by the
throne.
When the Rod suddenly leaped into his hand with a growl, he
jumped to his feet, dashing his drink. At the doors, soldiers in
Black Legion uniforms were escorting in a beautiful woman bound in
handcuffs. Her hair was mostly shining bluish white, streaked with
locks of a darker, duller grey.
Despite the signs of age, she was obviously a woman,
with a figure to kill for. Her skin was flawless, and her eyes a
glacial blue. She stood quietly, not offering resistance to the
soldiers or the cuffs. Her wide eyes took in the room, looking at
the royal trappings and remaining unimpressed.
She gave the various flunkies and servants a dismissive
flick of her eyebrows, and concentrated on the central dais. Blue
eyes held only scorn and contempt for Traci's subservient posture.
Then they focused on the standing before the throne. He read
in those eyes no awe of him.
The Rod lunged in his grasp aggressively towards her. He
followed it's urging, down to the floor in front of this woman.
"What is your name," he asked her, keeping a firm grip on
the rumbling Rod.
"Rebecca White," her soft voice answered, unafraid.
Robert turned to the officer of the Legion squad. "Why
did you bring her here? She doesn't look like the criminal type."
"Master! She has exhibited a strange power," the Captain
said to him, formally, "and your orders were to bring in any such
to your presence."
"So I did," Robert said. A soft white glow had begun to
form around the woman as he drew near, and his brow furled at a
sensation of discomfort, the first he'd had for weeks.
The Rod snarled viciously, his arm back for a
crushing blow that would smash her head off, but he fought it down.
Instinctively he knew that she was his opposite number. She was
the shining flame of purity and goodness, in stark contrast to his
guttering coals of dark desires.
He didn't know what higher (or lower) power it was that had
given his opposite to him in female form, but he thanked it, even
so. This wouldn't just be a battle of the sexes, but of good and
evil as well, and he was positive he had her outgunned.
"Hello, beautiful!" he said, smiling down at her. She
looked so peaceful and harmless, dressed in a relatively clean blue
dress, with her hands cuffed in front of her. She glared stonily
up at him. He turned on his aura of sexual charm that always
seemed to 'ease' negotiations with females.
Besides her white glow brightening a little, he saw no
change in the expression in her eyes, no additional warmth in her
voice as she began to accuse him.
"So you're the slimy pervert who's been mass murdering men,
and raping their women?" she said. "Surprising. I'd have thought
that you'd look more like the low-life scum you are, rather than a
clean cut football-jock with delusions of grandeur."
His brows furrowed thunderously. How dare she speak to him
like that! "Well, you're a saucy wench," he said. "Give me a
kiss." He held her chin in a strong grip and turned her head to
him. Her lips went from a drawn back snarl to spitting in his
face.
Robert paused, wiping his face and striving to keep his
composure. He turned to the soldiers that had brought her, "Thank
you, Captain. You and your are dismissed." He looked around
the room. "You can all go. You too, Traci, my little kitten."
The throne room emptied out, reluctantly. The courtiers
and soldiers wanted to watch and see what the Lord would do to this
upstart wench. Traci slipped to the entrance to his quarters,
flicking her expressive tail.
They were alone, and Robert released her handcuffs.
"What's the matter," Rebecca said. "Can't stand to have them see
your legendary whiles flop on someone?"
He crushed her too him, turning her head again and forcing
the kiss, this time. Her white glow built up, and blasted him like
a physical blow, forcing him to release her.
He quickly evaluated the discomfort, and her power's
potential to damage him. He felt that it couldn't really harm him,
just annoy him. A lot. But despite that annoyance, he had a
feeling he could last long enough rape the shit out of her. Maybe
that would teach her to treat him some respect.
He grabbed her by the arm's cruelly. She tried her blast
of white again, only to see him grimace, and still hold on to her.
"I've been pretty easy going so far. I've only killed the
really bad men, or raped the women who deserved it. But you have
pissed me off, you little slut, and you're going to get what's
coming to you!"
"And what gives you the right to decided these things?" she
said.
"I have the power," he snapped. "That's all that's
necessary." Midnight fire rose about his hands, strong enough to
jolt her, as she had previously singed him. At least that was her
intent. With one last twist of defiance, the Rod upped the heat of
the flames a thousand-fold. The black fire made her pale face even
whiter as she gasped in pain. Only the quiet white aura that
surrounded her shielded her from serious, if not deadly injuries.
He let go of her with a brusque, "Sorry." She laid her
hands on the reddened marks on her arms. A more intense light
shone from between her fingers, and the pained look left the cold
blue eyes.
"Not quite in control of yourself, are you?" she said,
looking intently into the black and angry eyes. "No," she said in
a musing tone. "You're not entirely in control of the powers you
wield."
"And you are?" he said sarcastically.
"Yes, I am," she said. "The power's I have didn't change
who I am. It didn't alter my underlying philosophies, or the self
control I have always had. The powers are a part of me. Yet *I*
am *not* the powers."
"What's the difference, bitch?" He was angry and confused
by the conversation. He was angry and confused by the
conversation. He didn't feel in control of the situation for the
first time in weeks, and she was going to pay for it. Once more he
grabbed her arms, and threw her to the cushions. He tried to make
her clothing vanish, but her aura partially thwarted him.
She lost her belt and shoes, but retained the rest of her
clothing. He frowned and straddled her, using his superior
strength to tear her clothes off, despite the stinging of her
bright aura, and her flailing struggles. He could see that this
wasn't to be easy, but he was determined to go through with it.
He ripped off her dress, and with difficulty, got her bra
unhooked and pulled off. Her hands rose to shield her pale
breasts, and he tore the lacy sides of her as he dragged
them off, while dodging her kicking legs. Her pubic hair was the
same white/grey mix of hairs as that on her head. As he looked
down at her nude body, she rolled over on her belly, trying to
prevent him from seeing her or cunt.
He didn't care. There was her fine ass presented to him.
He brutally forced her legs apart and knelt between them, naked.
He put one hand on her back to pin her on her belly, and with the
other hand began to squeeze and fondle her firm round butt. She
struggled against his weight, but she didn't bother to plead with
him. She knew that would useless.
He created an anchoring ring besides the throne, and a
length of chain connected to it. Another silent, desperate
wrestling match saw her again yield to his strength and size. One
at a time he forced her hands up and manacled them to the chain.
That was better, with her hands stretched above her head, he could
do anything he wanted with her.
Laying on her heavily, crushing her, he made her grunt for
breath. His hard cock jabbed between her ass cheeks, while his
hands reached around her to squeeze and maul her tits. He kissed
and bit her neck as his cock oozed pre-cum in her slot. He reached
down and rubbed his tip over her cunt, getting it slick for him.
Finally he slipped his tip just between her tight lower lips.
She squealed, frantically trying to squirm away from him,
despite knowing it was a hopeless attempt. His hands went to her
broad hips as he tried to shove his cock further in her cunt. He
gained an inch, and she made a pained sound. That and the
incredible tightness told him that she was a virgin. He smiled.
"It won't be long, pretty virgin, before I pop your
cherry," Robert said. "I'm stuffing my great inside you,
and then I'll pump you full of my cum. Won't that be fun?" He
felt excited. He'd never raped a woman who was wholly unwilling
before.
He radiated his dark energy inside her tender cunt, making
her gasp. She retaliated with her own energy, but he was ready for
the stinging on his cock. It made him even more determined to
conquer her.
He rocked his hips, rotating, stretching her around him,
then pushed another inch deeper. She moaned again, rattling the
chains her wrists were bound with. He used his power to stimulate
her clit and nipples. He couldn't bend her mind, but she couldn't
focus tight enough to stop him from affecting her body. She
writhed in protest, but couldn't prevent him.
A hard thrust forward, and a pull on her hips had the tip
of his cock pressing hard against her maidenhead. He intensified
the stimulation, and rocked himself in circles again. Digging his
fingers in at her hips with bruising force, he shoved his dick
inward while pulling her back, breaking her hymen. He felt the
pain shock go through her, and he poured the dark energy into her,
getting hardly a flicker of resistance in return.
Relentlessly, he defiled her. Working his huge cock into
her tight pussy, using his black power to make her body respond to
him. He never gave her a chance to recover her wits, or to focus
her energies to attack him or defend herself. Inch by inch he
gained ground until the great length of his shaft was buried in
her, slapping his balls against her mound.
He rested a moment while she panted under him. He reached
up to play with her tits, focusing the power to manipulating her
clit now. He began to fuck her with fast, powerful strokes. The
friction was incredible, she was still so tight around him. He
felt that his assault was beginning to make her react. All the
physical stimulation was more than she could resist, and his
seduction aura was starting to work on her, too.
She came a little, with a sharp cry, and he let himself
orgasm inside of her, enjoying her disgusted face as he spasmed
deep within. He stayed rock hard and continued to fuck her for
hours, never letting up. He turned her over and began to suck and
nibble on her engorged nipples, while he screwed her.
He made her come, over and over, learning her responses and
feeling her body give in to him, but her eyes never lost their cold
anger at his rape. He laughed at her. Her body's surrender was
sufficient victory for now. He'd conquered her body, the rest
could wait for another day. For his last orgasm, he pulled back
and sprayed all over her belly and tits. She just turned her
face away, submitting to this new indignity.
Knowing he'd never have a better chance, he reached for the
Rod, and pressed it to her pale neck. He forged a dull black
collar around her throat, one that she couldn't remove. It would
allow him to reach through her white protection shield and affect
her against her will. A flash of darkness and she had some
permanent jewelry. The ebony necklace and the two matching
bracelets lay sullenly against her white skin.
He looked down at her. "So, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
he asked her, rubbing his come into the flesh of her belly and
breasts. "You'll come to see that I'm not such a bad lover, after
all."
He let her hormones settle down, and her eyes blazed.
"Bastard!" she said, and tried to blast him with her white energy.
But she was weakened, and thoroughly contaminated with his
darkness. It didn't even sting him.
"Best you can do, eh?" he laughed. "Let's see how you do
in the dungeons, pretty Rebecca. Maybe that will teach you some
manners."
Deep in the caverns under the Palace she appeared in a
large, dimly lit chamber. There was a stone shelf against the back
wall of the small alcove, with a bunk on it, and to the side, a
primitive toilet. There was a table with some food, and a small
fountain collected the mineral laden water leaking from the stones.
She laid down, trying to get some rest after her ordeal. In
the darkness, she heard something move. When she sat up and looked
around, there was nothing there. Eventually she laid back down
again, and tried to ignore the noises that stealthily approached
her. Maybe it was a rat, or nothing at all... she hoped...
To be Continued...
June, 1997 -- Darkside: United States of Anarchy, Part 5 of 20.
Series Continues after #20 in Darkside: Imperial States of America.
Archived @ "ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/World_of_the_Darkside";
Or www.asstr.org/~World_of_the_Darkside & www.greyarchive.com.