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DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "Hell Hath No Fury..."
[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 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 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 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 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 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 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...
June, 1997 -- Darkside: United States of Anarchy, Part 6 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.