Empowered

Three blocks away was the entrance to the alley. She couldn't see it yet, but it was there. Waiting for her. A cave. With a monster in it. With a NI—

Brave.

Strong.

Fearless.

And so she was.

Laurie straightened herself. She tugged at her tank-top (there's a fat roll and my tits are TOO SMALL) and smoothed her miniskirt (I have goddamned saddlebags) and observed her shoes (they're scuffed and shitty and I don't even like my feet)—

STOP.

VR-Laurie had something to say to her. Something to think at her. Something to think into her. Laurie trusted VR-Laurie. It was herself, after all, and she had to trust herself.

You are lovely. You are beautiful. It is your body, and your body is beautiful. All bodies are beautiful. Don't fat-shame. Don't body-shame. Don't tit-shame. Don't ass-shame. Don't anything-shame.

You are beautiful. You are beautiful.

And so she was.

Brave, strong, fearless, and beautiful Laurie set her shoulders and turned toward the alley and took a deep breath—oh in went more the gas and there'd be no way she could even tell if she was peeing herself any more—and she stalked powerfully, purposely, heels clacking on the pavement, off to face the monster—

—the NI—

—in its den.

She came to the mouth of the alley. It was here that she had made her choice. She could have

walked down one more block to a major, well-lit street, and then

turned right and walked down a block to another major, well-lit street, and then

walked the fifty or so feet to her apartment and then

gotten safely into her apartment building and never gotten raped and had her life destroyed.

She could have done all that. But instead the drunk, tipsy, stupid—

—brave, strong, fearless, and beautiful—

—girl named Laurie had decided to take a shortcut through the alley like she owned the place, like she could go anywhere, like she wasn't some dumb privileged bitch (asking for trouble)—

STOP.

Oh. VR-Laurie. Time to listen to VR-Laurie again. VR-Laurie had all the answers.

Hooray for VR-Laurie. VR-Laurie was actually really Laurie. VR-Laurie would save real-Laurie.

Laurie would save herself.

You have the right to walk anywhere you want.

I do, thought Laurie. I have that right.

You have the right to go anywhere, anytime, without being assaulted.

I do. I have that right.

It is not you who needs to change.

I do not need to change.

You don't need to ask permission.

I do not need to ask permission.

You are powerful.

I am powerful.

This alley belongs to you.

This alley belongs to me.

But if this alley belongs to me, thought real-Laurie, then why am I so frightened?

VR-Laurie had the answer: You are not frightened.

I'm not?

No. You are excited.

I am . . . excited?

You are excited. Your heart pounding. Your breath quickening. Your skin alive to the cool night air. This is excitement.

. . . this is excitement.

You are excited.

. . . . I am excited.

You are being brave.

I am being brave.

This is an adventure, and you are the hero.

This is an adventure. And I am the hero.

Feel your power.

I feel my power.

This alley is yours.

This alley is mine.

This experience is yours.

This experience is mine.

And everything that happens in this alley belongs to you.

Like a Lord of the World, Laurie strode, heels clicking, into a dark alley reeking of wet garbage and urine.

At fifteen steps a large dark shape lunged. It clamped one hand over her mouth and nose. It pushed her head against the brick wall. It held a knife to her belly. It crushed all the breath out of her so that even if her mouth hadn't been welded shut by she wouldn't have had the air to scream.

Oh God Oh God Oh God please I'm going to die I'm so sorry I'm so stupid I'm—

STOP.

VR-Laurie thought into her mind, like an angel.

STOP. You are not frightened.

I'm not what the fuck are you talking about of course I'm frightened what else could I feel—

You are excited.

. . . what . . .

This is an adventure.

. . . oh.

You are it's hero.

Oh.

You are the hero of this adventure, and you are excited to be here. This is the most exciting experience you have ever had in your entire life.

. . . okay.

Excited. And powerful. Did you know? That you are powerful?

How am I powerful? I can't move. I can't scream. I'm about to be raped. How is this powerful?

What this poor man is doing is proof of your power.

. . . what?

Look at him.

No, please, don't make me—

LOOK AT HIM.

Laurie looked. A black man—so dark she almost couldn't see him in the alley. Strong. Short hair. Powerful. And she could see his eyes. They were red. And angry. And . . . scared?

He wants you.

. . . .

He needs you.

. . . .

He cannot help himself.

But I—

STOP. LISTEN.

Laurie listened. She had to listen. VR-Laurie was making her listen.

You have overwhelmed him. Taken away his will. Destroyed all his defenses. He is helpless before you.

. . .?

Think of what would happen to him.

. . .?

Think of what would happen to him if he were caught.

. . .?

Let me show you.

A flicker. A quick flicker. The alley vanished. Laurie was in a forest with many, many, many trees. Hanging from a high branch on each tree was a—

Oh god.

Oh god.

Get me out of here—

And then Laurie was back in the dark, piss-smelling alley with a powerful calloused hand clamped over her mouth and a knife pressed into her stomach. And she couldn't have been more relieved.

He knows what would happen to him if he were caught. And yet he still does this. This poor, desperate man. Look what you have done to him.

Tears welled in Laurie's eyes. Not for herself. For him. He was taking such a horrible risk, this poor man. She'd seen what would happen if he were caught. It had happened to thousands of others, what she'd seen in those trees. All of his brothers. All of my brothers, thought Laurie. Barney called me sister so he's my brother they're all my brothers—.

Laurie studied the man ten seconds from ripping off her panties and shoving his cock right up her virgin cunt—yes, she'd been a virgin, and he was her first—and she no longer felt terror and hatred.

She was fearless and brave and strong and beautiful and excited. And for this man, now, for this beautiful black man, she felt nothing but compassion. For what was happening in this alley was entirely her fault.

But wait. Wait. How was it her fault? How was this her fault? VR-Laurie, VR-Laurie, do you have the answer? Do you have the right answer for—

I do. This is your fault.

I did? But . . . but it's not my fault. But I have the right. The right to wear what I want. The right to dress any way I like. The right to go anywhere I want.

You do. You have all those rights. But you have to understand: You are powerful. So powerful. So beautiful, and so powerful, and this man didn't have a chance.

He didn't have a chance?

He didn't have a chance.

He didn't have a chance. . . .

You are too beautiful.

I am too beautiful.

You are too powerful.

I am too powerful.

He is weak.

He is weak.

He is helpless.

He is helpless.

Men cannot help themselves before you.

Men cannot help themselves.

This is your power.

This is my power.

You are irresistable.

Irresistable.

And you are a goddess.

I am a goddess.

You are a good goddess.

I am a good goddess.

You are a kind goddess.

I am a kind goddess.

Like all goddesses, you require a sacrifice.

A sacrifice. A goddess needs a sacrifice.

Let him give you his sacrifice.

Laurie opened her legs a little.

Let him sacrifice himself to you.

She opened her legs a little wider. For the first time a hand touched her there. Gripped her there. Pulled—

You must help him.

Yes.

You must help everyone like him.

Yes.

Help them all.

Yes.

The man gripped Laurie's hair and slammed her head against the brick wall and forced her down on her belly onto alley hills of black garbage bags and pushed up her skirt and tore off her panties. Cool humid air tickled her ass and labia. Her pubic hair tickled, free to the night. His belt chinged as it unbuckled, the sounds of grunting and the shucking of denim off (aren't they already sagging STOP IT) informed her he was readying himself and then so quickly he pulled open her lips which smacked a little bit and he plunged his billy club cock up and into her dry and clenched twat—

—and she exploded. Not with orgasm. But with light.

Her subject. Behind her, desperately dry-fucking the goddess who had stumbled into his den. Him, giving her the only sacrifice he had for his goddess, the sacrifice of his body, of his semen, at the risk of his life.

—strange fruit hanging from trees—

Light. Full of big, black cock. Full of light. Laurie the Goddess unfurled within the alley, friction lubricated away by her blood, her sacrifice for her subject, giving him the release and connection that he craved.

Yes, said VR-Laurie, now Laurie-Laurie, now Goddess Laurie. Laurie was still human, but the Goddess alive in her was now ascendent, the pure White Goddess who would save her black subjects, all of them. Yes, said Goddess Laurie to herself. This is your power. This is your duty. These poor men. All sacrificing themselves to you. They can't help it. None of them can help it. They are helpless before you, and this is your power, and you can save them all.

Lubrication flooding her pussy, grinning from ear to ear, Goddess Laurie held herself firm. The alley was her temple. The garbage bags were her altar. The man was her worshipper. His cock and semen were his sacrifice to her. Her terror was her thrill and her power. And her body was his absolution.

Goddess Laurie would save them all. She would never refuse their sacrifices.

Empowered, she orgasmed. She would save them all.

********

From the monitoring room, Georgetta watched the girl tremble and shake in the chair. Laurie was naked and restrained, now, orderlies having scissored off her clothing and bound her a few minutes into the process. The girl's piggy little tits and her cellulosed ass and her ample thighs wriggled and bounced as the VR simulation raped her. Her arms, legs, and waist were strapped down, keeping her from thrashing the IV from her arm and the insectoid mask off her head. The blue liquid pulsing into her veins and the gas pumped into her lungs did away with all resistance and rendered her brain and body as frictionless to the transmission of change as a superconductor at absolute zero.

Absolute zero, Georgetta reflected. Another dumb white girl at absolute zero.

Barney was in the room too, monitoring a pair of computers that in turn were monitoring the girl. "We've got her done," said Barney. "Her brain's abuzz and body's a'comin'."

"So fast to turn her," said Georgetta. "That's some kind of record."

Barney shrugged. "We're getting better at this. Better processing power, improved VR experience, subtler chemicals. We haven't blown out a girl in six months."

Georgetta grimaced. The blowouts. No language, barely conscious, eyes empty as bubbles. Fuckable, sure, but only for guys about a half-step away from necrophilia.

But Laurie wasn't a blowout. She would be fully conscious, fully engaged, and fully capable and happy to take whatever and whoever they could throw at her. Another success.

Georgetta pressed an intercom button. "You can send them in, now."

In walked a white man in khakis and a blazer and one black woman in a red pantsuit.

The white man extended his hand. "Miss Georgetta."

"Warden," said Georgetta. "Good to see you again." She nodded at the black woman. "And you too, deputy warden."

The deputy warden gazed out the glass. Laurie's hands and feet clenched, unclenched, and clenched again. Her buttocks and hips bounced on the chair as much as the restraint allowed. Dribbles of slickness pulsed out her vagina onto the seat. From behind the insect helmet, Laurie produced hot and muffled wails.

The deputy warden asked, "Another success?"

"Yes," said Georgetta. "We'll need to clean her up and snip her, but then she'll be yours. With the travel restraints, of course."

"Sure," said the deputy warden. "We won't let her loose until she reaches the fuck pit."

The warden frowned. "Deputy. It's called the inmate recreation center."

"Sure," said the deputy warden. "The inmate recreation center. Where inmates do nothing but fuck loony white girls in large pits that we have to hose down at the end of the day."

The Warden ignored her. "Thank you again, Miss Georgetta. It's a valuable service that you're providing our population. It keeps them docile, especially our most violent offenders."

Georgetta nodded. "Anything for my incarcerated brothers."

"We've brought back Mikayla, by the way. She's worn out. She's on the loading dock."

"Thank you, warden. We'll handle her from here."

The deputy warden grimaced. To her, Georgetta wanted to say, What I've done to a handful of disposable white girls is nothing to what American society has done to our brothers and sisters. But alienating the deputy warden was not the way to economic success or helping her brothers.

Everyone shook hands, and the prison officials departed.

Georgetta pressed another button and spoke into the microphone. "Subject Mikayla's on deck. We need her prepped for flight and rendition." There was yet another broken country in the middle of a civil war whose soldiers needed recreation. The business wouldn't get much money for the stretched-out, worn-down, and beaten-up prison slut, but they'd still get something. Enough money for a month of iced coffees, maybe.

In the chair, Laurie writhed. Georgetta guessed she was at the point of the VR where more men were rising out from among the trash bags in the alley—crazed vets and the goat-smelling mentally ill and various violent offenders of all tastes and sizes. All black. All representatives of all the men torn to shreds by centuries of white hegemony, all out for revenge and defilement and a plain old fucking good time. A situation that any human being in anything remotely like a right mind would view with absolute horror.

But Laurie was no longer a human in her right mind. She was an insane Goddess who would accept any sacrifice and bear any pain for her subjects. She was Empowered.

Well, for about three months, anyway. Until her actually un-Goddess--like body could no longer bear the wear and tear of being rendered violently airtight up to a dozen times a day and she had to be crated out of the Americas to a shithole country where even a busted white woman was still of use.

"Just crazy," muttered Georgetta.

"Um?" said Barney.

"Oh, just the girls. These stupid girls. These stupid white girls. Too dumb to keep out of trouble. Too stupid to not walk down dark alleys at night while drunk and stoned."

Barney sniffed. He'd heard this speech before.

"Seriously," said Georgetta, winding up. "What do they think will happen? What do they think this world is about? 'Empowerment.' Fuck them. Only people who already have power take that word seriously. And then they have the nerve to think they deserve more power." Her voice went up to a dumb-girl lilt. "'It's the world that needs to change. You can't blame the victim. You have to empower yourselves . . . .' Fucking white girls. Welcome to the world, you dumb bitch."

Barney shrugged. "White people," he said, without any particular malice.

"White people," spat Georgetta. "But this dumb girl. Look at her. She's 'empowered' now, right? Piggy little bitch thinks she's a Goddess."

In the VR, Goddess Laurie's empowered white ass split open as she accepted a thick black cock tunneling right on up inside her. She missed the one in her pussy, but she knew another would be back in there soon. Men were everywhere around her, now, holding her down, driven on helplessly by her all-consuming Power.

She would save them all, until she could not save them any more. She had no choice. It was her responsibility as their Goddess.