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Saturday, July 31, 2004

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

[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 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 you 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.
"Fornification 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 still 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 now, 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.
Archived "://./pub/Authors/WorldoftheDarkside";
Or /~WorldoftheDarkside & greyarchive.

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Thursday, July 29, 2004

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Monday, July 26, 2004

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Business Studies 11


By Katzmarek


------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Note.


This is a work of erotic fiction. It may not be used for profit
without the author's express permission in writing.
------------------------------------------------------------------


(Part 11)


ANGELA CONTINUES...


My affair with our PE teacher, Richard, lasted for about a month. I
went back to his apartment two days after out first encounter and it
was so much better.


Instead of pretending to work, I fell straight into his arms. We hit
the bed in three minutes flat and we were soon naked and sweaty. This
time he licked and chewed me to a frenzy and afterwards I took him
into my mouth.


He liked doggy the best, Richard called my arse 'exquisite', and
loved to fondle it as he hammered away.


After PE class, it was the norm for one of the kids to stay behind
to help put away the gear. After our affair began, Richard selected
me often. None of the other kids liked the duty, it meant you missed
5 minutes of recess. What they didn't know was that Richard and I
would have a little grope in the PE cupboard. How we got away with
any of this is a mystery.


The first time I was really scared one of the other girls would come
back for something and discover us, but Richard made sure they left
nothing behind. In hindsight, I think it was obvious I wasn't the
first schoolgirl he'd played with.


One day he was so horny he got me to give him a blowjob, right
behind the stack of rubber mats. He liked coming all over my tits
then massaging his stuff into my chest. He'd produce a wet cloth
afterwards so I could clean myself up, he thought of everything.


I finished the relationship when he started pressuring me to bring
along a 'friend.' I agreed once and turned up with this girl Sharon.


Sharon was in my class, dark-haired and kind of shy. She sort of
reminded my of Tee, being quite curvy round the hips but more
bustier. She had a boyfriend but I think they were going through a
bad patch. I knew she was no virgin.


She also had a crush on Richard and needed little persuading to come
with me to visit him. I think she knew what was going to happen.


Richard fixed us a couple of looseners, that is, orange juice spiked
with Vodka. I could taste it right away but I'm not sure Sharon had
ever had alcohol before. It wasn't long before she was giggling away.


We sat on the big sofa watching the kids cartoons and making rude
jokes.


"How come Yogi bear doesn't have a dick?" Sharon asked laughing
away, "what are little boys supposed to think? He doesn't have a
diddle so how does he piddle?"


Really silly stuff.


After a while Richard asked us what our 'first times' were like. I
had to laugh and although I'd never told Sharon about him and I, I
think she caught the little private joke.


Sharon told us that hers was at a party. She'd decided to sleep over
with her boyfriend and they bundled up on a mattress on the floor.
She said they didn't use any protection and she had to go to the
clinic for a 'morning after' pill.


"So it was a spontaneous, passionate thing?" Richard wanted to know.


Sharon nodded, all embarrassed.


"You won't tell my mother?" Sharon added as an afterthought, "I've
never told her, she thinks I'm still a virgin."


"Does YOUR mother think you're still a virgin?" Richard asked me.


"Nah," I said, "she thought I was doing it even when I wasn't. She's
always putting condoms in my bag, suspicious bitch!" I laughed.


"Really!" exclaimed Sharon, "so your mum's really cool about it?"


"Realistic!" I replied, " she just doesn't want me knocked up!"


"My mum would have a fit. I think her and dad have only done it
once, when they had me."


"So, what," asked Richard, " are they religious?"


"Very," Sharon said, shaking her head.


"And what about you?" he asked.


"Not any more," she told him, " too busy enjoying myself."


Richard sat between us on the sofa. He put an arm around each of our
shoulders, cuddling. I noticed he was getting a hard-on. You can tell
when he wears such tight 'trackies'.


Soon he and Sharon were smooching and whispering together. He turned
to me and winked, saying that they were going into the next room for
a while.


I sat there for maybe half an hour. I turned the TV down so I could
hear what was going on and after ten minutes Sharon's 'uh, uh, uh's'
could be plainly heard.


She went on and on, Richard must have really given it to her. My
God, she was noisy, I hope I don't make that much of a fuss! After a
while I was beginning to feel pretty fruity myself.


Eventually they came out. Sharon's hair was all messed up and she
had this kind of dreamy but guilty look on her face. She must have
known I could hear everything.


"Took your time!" I said.


Sharon just giggled to herself, unable to answer.


They sat back down on the sofa in the same order, with Richard in
the middle. This time, however, Sharon was leaning into him and he
had a hand squarely over her tit.


It was obvious from the start they were very, very keen on each
other. They kissed and stroked each other incessantly, even when
Richard was talking to me.


After a while of this, Richard started to get hard again. He tapped
me on the thigh and turned to Sharon, saying,


"I hope you don't mind, I'd better take care of Angela!"


Bloody cheek!


He pulled me up by the arm before I could object and told Sharon he
wouldn't be long.


"I'll be here, Richard," she told him.


I'll bet she will!


In the bedroom his tongue was in my mouth before I'd a chance to
speak. He kissed me really hard and stroked my arse in the way I
liked. I thought, 'what the hell,' and kissed him back.


Then his pants were down and he was pushing me to the floor
whispering, 'suck me.' He guided my face and pushed his tool in and
out of my mouth so hard I was almost gagging.


Then it was 'pants down' and over the bed on my front. He pushed his
cock into me immediately, holding me by my hips.


I was soon moaning, I'd been hot since Sharon and he had gone into
the bedroom, but I felt used. He wasn't interested in me at all, only
getting his rocks off quickly so he could go back to Sharon to play
some more. I had the feeling of being yesterday's goods, it was dirty.


It still took him a while to come, I think he'd given Sharon plenty.
I'm ashamed, now, to say that I DID have an orgasm sometime through
it, just a little one. Richard worked his thing in me a little while
longer, he did have a lot of stamina. Eventually, though, he came
with a grunt and rammed his cock as far in as he could get and held
it there.


I was spent, he was spent, but nevertheless he found the strength to
go back out to Sharon, still naked. I lay there for a little while,
pulled my pants back up and left. Passing the lounge, Sharon had her
top off and Richard was stroking her big breasts, I left them to it.


---------------------------------------------------------------------


Richard had hurt me, but it was a valuable lesson. Never again, I
vowed, was I EVER going to be used like that again.


Two years later and Sharon's going to marry him. I don't know how
they kept everything quiet all this time, but half the kids know. I
think the Principal just turned the other way and, providing there
was no formal complaint, and left them to it.


I'm sure Richard wasn't the first, nor the last, teacher to have an
affair with a pupil.


Our school is generally more afraid of bad publicity than anything.
I mean, for instance, everyone knows that becoming a member of the
Astronomy Club is just an excuse to blow some dope at lunchtime in
the observatory. You just have to look at the people who signed up,
but I think the school takes the view that at least they're out of
sight.


---------------------------------------------------------------------


If I go to bed with a guy it's because I want to, feel like it and
it's on my terms. Mum's cool about bringing guys home, she'd rather
it happened at home rather than some guy's car or at a party. That
way she can make sure I'm safe.


Guys don't believe you when you ask them home to have sex, a few
back out not wanting to have to face mum. I figure it's a bit of a
test. If they don't want to meet mum then they're not interested
enough. In those cases, they don't even get to have a feel.


One exception is Jorge DaSilva. As Tee probably told you, we're
having this kind of ellicit affair because he's married. It wouldn't
be possible to bring him home, he wouldn't come anyway. We go to
motels and fool around in his car.


Jorge's in his fifties and a successful businessman. His whole
family own business's all over the city, including a club, which I'm
sure is a front for a brothel.


When prostitution is finally legalised, next month, then we'll see
what happens. 'Ladies for hire, full service guaranteed.'


I don't think the DaSilvas want to be openly associated with it,
though. They're too mindful of the social stigma, they want to be
seen as 'respectable.'


Jorge tells this story about growing up in the slums of Brazil and
having to forage in the rubbish dumps. It's utter crap and people
believe it because that's what they think of Brazil.


The DaSilvas were always privileged and always had money. There's
plenty of rich people in Brazil. He was driven out of Recife for
reasons I'm not clear about, but I think it was political. He said
Rio De Janiero was too difficult to start from scratch in so he came
down here.


"Better the big fish in the small pond," he told me, "too many
sharks in Brazil who'll eat the little guy unless he becomes a big
guy. Much more room in the pond here, I think."


---------------------------------------------------------------------


Jorge idolises me, he prefers to think of me as his 'innocent
angel.' He dosen't want to talk about my past, rather he likes to
think he's 'educating the Princess.' For $300 a night I'd happily be
a nun, if that's what he wants.


Tee says all the old guys want you to dress up like a schoolgirl.
They want to pretend you're younger than you really are, that way
they can get off with a little girl and not get arrested.


She says her Nick likes the same thing. She says he even wants to
'punish' her by slapping her arse. I told her that maybe she could
negotiate an additional fee and she said that 10 bucks per whack
sounded about right.


"10 dollars plus an additional pain allowance," I added.


"And clothing," she said, "if he wants me to wear special things..."


"Absolutely," I replied, "screw the bastard..."


"That'd be extra again," she laughed.


---------------------------------------------------------------------


TEE CONTINUES...


It's now Wednesday and I haven't heard from either Rachael or Nick.
I feel hurt at Rachael's remark that I 'wasn't as good,' as Nick. Ok,
so she was probably trying to massage Nick's ego, but still...


If you ask me, too many people have been massaging his ego.


Jonno rang me this morning, he's somewhere out beyond the heads
making for port. He expects to tie up at the dock about noon and
unload the catch by one. He wants to see me after school today on the
'San Marino.'


I kind of miss him. He's uncomplicated in a nice way. That is, he's
not stupid or anything, far from it, he's just straight forward and
down to earth, or water, whatever. Unlike Rachael and Nick, he
doesn't have a twisted psyche.


And he's undemanding as well! He has few expectations of me, I like
that.


He spends an awful long time at sea. He told me that with fish
resources depleting fast, they have to go further out to the edge of
the shelf to get economic catches. It also means taking advantage of
any good weather available as the Southern Ocean is notorious for
it's storms and high seas.


"They don't pay you for sitting in Port," he said.


I concentrate on preparing for my Accounting exam. This is THE one I
want to get top marks in. I figure that after I see Jonno this
afternoon, I'll have to give boys a miss for a while until the exams
are over. That said, I'll have to make it worthwhile, I think.


Angela's all talk, now, of going into the callgirl business. She
suggested I could bring my so-called business skills into the party.
I told her that by law you have to be 18 so we'd have to wait until
next year at best.


"So? Cool then," she said.


"Hey, wait a minute. I've got university for three years..."


"How much time do you need to do a business plan and the books?"


She really has no idea of the time required to manage a business!


"Someone would have to be on hand to manage the clients,
advertise... would we be employing anyone? That would mean staff
issues, supervision, payroll management... Then we'd have to have
premises, equipment, clothes and costumes, laundry and cleaning...
And where would we get the start-up capital?"


"Jorge!"


"Would he want to finance a competitor to his club? Even so, what
terms and conditions?" I asked her.


"I don't know... Maybe we could be, like contractors? He could
forward the trade onto us for a fee? I mean, he wouldn't send any
arseholes onto us, would he?"


"I don't know Angela. There's a lot of if's, buts and maybe's. We'd
have to go through the regulations to ensure we comply with the law,
apply for a license, I don't think they'd grant one to an 18 year
old."


"We can get around all that," she said, "you're smart, I'm sure you
could figure it out."


"Not until after I pass my exams, I'm not," I told her.


---------------------------------------------------------------------


After school I catch a bus down to the port. The fishing fleet is
all in and there's lots of activity. The 'San Marino' was one of the
first to tie up and the catch has been discharged and sent to market
already.


I spot Jonno all alone, stowing some equipment in the boat's gear
lockers. He gives me a cheery wave and indicates the little gangway.


He smiles broadly, clearly happy to see me. Moving catlike across
the cluttered deck, he grabs a hose from pier-side and begins to wash
down the winch and chains.


"Go inside," he yells over the noise, " I won't be a minute...
coffee in the pot..."


I go into the cabin and pour some steaming liquid from the pot on
the small gimble stove. The cabin serves as a messroom and galley.
The small wooden table is bolted to the floor with clamps, likewise
the four stools.


On the floor near the forward bulkhead is a hatchway giving access
down to the engines, which sit below the cabin. Next to that is a
short ladder leading up to the wheel house and chartroom. To the
right of the ladder, an open hatch reveals the tiny bunkroom and four
narrow fold-up beds. Jonno told me it doubles as a galley supply room
complete with a fridge in the corner.


'On a boat, everything must be stowed and secured,' he said, 'in
high seas, everything loose becomes a missile with potential to
injure.' The metal plates and bowls are all on secure racks and
clipped down. Pots on the gimble stove have clamps to stop them
falling off and even the potlids have screw threads on them so you
can tighten them down.


I don't know how Jonno can live like this for weeks on end. There's
just no room for privacy anywhere. Even the toilet in the extreme bow
has no door, there's not enough space in the cubicle and your knees
poke out.


"Mostly the boys just pee over the side. Only in rough weather would
we go there. You have to brace yourself against the hull to keep from
being thrown about," he adds.


"Do you ever get seasick?" I ask him.


"Nope. My dad took me to sea before I could walk, it's in my blood,
the sea..."


Even just tied up at the pier the gentle movement of the boat makes
my stomach uneasy. I couldn't imagine going out into the ocean in
this thing.


"It's good to see you," Jonno says, sitting down at the table, " I
missed you."


"Me too, " I tell him as he takes my hand.


"It's a man's life out there," he says nodding towards the harbour
entrance, "I'm not that experienced with... women... having a
girlfriend..."


"Not that I've noticed," I tell him, " you're doing okay so far."


"Thanks," he says, grinning from ear to ear.


"I thought sailors had a girl in every port?" I ask, teasing him.


"Not fishermen," he replies, "always at sea... then we must sell the
catch and turn around as quickly as possible. This is the life I
chose, I suppose, but it does have it's drawbacks. This boat is
getting old, we must replace it in the next few years... then pay it
off... then perhaps I can take it easier, buy a house up in the
hills."


"So when are you going out again?"


"Two days, first light... refueling and restocking tomorrow then ice
for the freezers comes about 3 the following morning."


"So this is your only day off?"


He nods.


"How are you going to spend it?"


"I'm going to Mama's for dinner, she always puts on a big spread for
us, then I'm going to sleep in a dry bed, clean sheets with an
electric blanket."


"Until then?" I ask with a knowing look.


"I... I... thought we might... do something for a while," he shrugs.


"Such as?"


"I don't know... I just wanted to see you..."


"Show me round the boat," I suggest.


"Sure... nothing much to see, though, it won't take long."


We begin the tour of the wheel house and chartroom. He waves at all
the instruments, the weather radar, global positioning system, sonar,
UHF/VHF radio and gives a short description as to each function.


Then it's back below and he lifts the hatch to the engine room and
gives me a peak down.


"Twin Scania 600hp diesels," he tells me matter-of-factly, "one
drives the pumps for the freezers, the other the generator for the
batteries. As well as pushing the boat along, of course. Are you
REALLY interested in all of this?"


"Sure!" I tell him, trying to sound fascinated.


Next it's forward to the little bunkroom.


"The boat is really just a big floating fridge. Everything else has
to be crammed in where there's a bit of room. Accomodation is all
forward, engines and ancilleries under the cabin to make room for the
freezer holds which must be as close to the centre of the boat as
possible, for trim."


"I see, because that's where the heaviest weight is, right?"


He nods in agreement.


"At the stern you have the drive and the steering engine, with rope
and chain lockers. The winch sits between the hold covers with the
net booms on each side."


"Net booms?"


"For the trawl net, it's swung away out over the side so it doesn't
foul the propellers."


"Wow, I just thought you dropped it into the sea on a long rope."


"Yeah, well, it's not that simple..."


"So I see. There's more to fishing than meets the eye, I can see
that."


"A lot more," he tells me, " you have to find the fish in the first
place, know where the schools are, then there's the bycatch..."


"What's that?"


"Anything we can't keep, basically. Like undersized or non-food
species, even dolphins and porpoises..."


"Oh no!"


"It happens," he says, "they go after the fish, see, and get caught
in the net. We generally trawl below their feeding depths but
sometimes you get the adventurous ones."


"Do you rescue them?"


"If we can, but usually they've drowned by the time we get them up."


"That's terrible!"


"Yes, well, it's not something any fishermen wants to get in his net."


I feel upset about those poor dolphins. I mean, they're practically
as intelligent as us.


Jonno puts his arm around me, comforting.


"I'm sorry," he says, "I shouldn't have told you about it..."


"No, it's alright, I'm just being silly."


"No you're not," he protests, "I feel the same way."


He smells so good, I think he's had a shower onshore. I feel his
upper arms, they're tight and well toned. Certainly, the hard life at
sea hasn't done his body any harm!


He folds me into his arms and rests his chin on the top of my head.
I turn my head and press my ear into his chest.


"D,donk... d,donk..."


"What?"


"I can hear your heart," I explain to him.


"Oh."


I turn up my face to his. He takes the hint and kisses me lightly on
the lips.


"Is that it?" I ask quietly.


He shrugs then kisses me again, harder and longer.


His clothes are tight on him, like a second skin. He tells me loose
clothing is a liability on a fishing trawler, it snags in the gear.
Good strong jeans are the norm.


Our kissing grows more passionate. We stroke each other's backs,
squirm against one another. He bunches up my shirt at the back and
slips his hand underneath, onto my skin. I shiver as a hand snakes up
my back towards my bra strap.


I back up a little and lift my shirt over my head. He studies my
cleavage for a while, swallowing, absently licking his lips. I bring
his hands up and place them squarely over my breasts. He feels them
lightly and delicately as if he might bruise them.


After more kissing and some tongue play, I ask him if he'd brought
anything. He looks puzzled.


"Protection, Jonno," I explain.


"Oh, that..." he chuckles nervously, "no I... didn't think that... I
mean..."


"Well," I interrupt softly, "it's just as well I remembered..."


"Oh, you want to... I didn't know if..."


"Finish a bloody sentence Jonno," I tell him laughingly.


"Sorry, I'm just nervous."


"That's better. Now, are you going to take your clothes off?"


"Sure!" he says, hastily undoing his shirt.


In the dim light, Jonno's tanned body is finally revealed down to
his briefs, which bulges uncomfortably.


I turn my back so he can undo my bra. He peels it slowly off and
follows it with his hands, which rests over the tips of my nipples. I
can feel his erection pressing into the top of my bottom.


Jonno massages my front, from my tits to my tummy. He nuzzles my
neck, suckles my ear, it tickles!


I turn around for some more hot kissing. I stroke his torso, feeling
the muscles and down to his hard butt. Pushing my fingers under his
briefs onto his muscular cheeks, Jonno gives a little start and
scrabbles at the belt of my jeans.


I undo my belt myself and push them down for him. He grabs me hard
and pulls me against his cock. I want to sit down, my legs are
feeling weak.


"Can we sit?" I ask him.


Jonno unclips one of the bottom bunks and pulls it down. He guides
me onto the plastic covered mattress, it feels cool on my bare skin.
Noting my little wince at the contact, Jonno apologises.


"Sorry," he says, "keeps it dry... can't dry out a wet mattress..."


"It's ok, I understand."


"Wool blanket goes on top... then sleeping bag... I'll fetch a
blanket."


"No," I stop him, "don't worry... just lie with me."


The bunk is very narrow, it's impossible to lie side by side, so
Jonno stretches out on top of me. He keeps his weight off me by
bracing himself with his arms and continues to kiss my lips and
breasts.


All except his crotch, which he saws against my mound, grinding in
imitation of fucking. I flush hot with arousal. Reaching down, I
capture the head of his penis in my fist. His cock is poking through
the top of his waistband.


"Tee... would you... I mean that night in the grandstand you..."


"You want me to suck you?"


"If you want."


"Sure!"


I get him to sit on the bunk and kneel between his legs. I ease his
briefs down over his erection, which springs straight up. I kiss the
tip before lowering my mouth over the head.


Jonno leans back against the steel hull and sighs and groans as I
work my mouth up and down. It's fully as big as I remember, my pussy
throbs with anticipation. I stroke his thighs, combing through his
hairs, feeling his soft velvety balls.


"Want to put it in me?" I ask.


Jonno nods swallowing.


Katzmarek

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