The girl in the waiting way hugged herself. She'd have to talk about what happened to her, and that thought horrified her. She'd worn-out months trying not to think about it, not to verbalize about it, to deal with it by not dealing with it, and what had that gotten her ? No sleep. No concentration. Unexplained bursts of crying that could of form be totally explained. Fear of men, friends slinking away, fear especially of ( can't study, can't work, can't slumber, can't get out of bed, don't want to ) —.

The young lady needed help. She knew that, now. Which is why she was here.

The waiting room. All so formula, exactly what she expected for a genial health pleader's berth. Ecru paries, long gamey couch and house orange armchairs, ferns and philodendrons and rhododendrons. Drowsy clove scent in the air. The short-haired middle-aged Patrick Victor Martindale White slightly roly-poly ( don't fat-shame her don't age-shame her ) receptionist who had welcomed her in with professional person courtesy but certainly hiding suspicions. right ? Anyone who needed direction had to be wary. Had to be ( weak. Unhappy. Unwell. Unable to manage. Unable to grasp. Unable to live. Another lunatic ? Another weak char ? )

Powerless. The young lady was powerless. Against the man, against what he had done to her, against what she had done to herself, against what she had let him do to her. She let him do this to her. She had let him

—rape me—

assault her. In that bowling alley. She had been so stupid, and he had taken reward of that stupidity. This was her fault, this hole ( i'm a dense trap stop it brainiac please ) she was in, and she didn't cognise how to get out of it.

She needed help. I need help. I am here for avail, and if I don't get it, I am going to—

"Laurie ? Laurie, I'm Georgetta."

"Uh,"said Laurie. In nominal head of her stood a tall black woman ( African-American, you know meliorate ) in a retentive vibrantly patterned dress ( they like their patterns STOP ) and with spectacular dreadlocked ("dreads") haircloth was holding a caramel-colored ( is that okay ? ) hand out to her. Laurie took the hired hand ( take firmly but not weirdly ) and was comforted by its dry warmness and strength as the tall black ( don't see people of color why card her people of colour but doesn't difference subject ) woman helped Laurie to her feet.

Georgetta smiled warmly."It's decent to meet you. You're taking an of import step. Please come into my office."

Laurie smiled wanly."Sure. Yeah. Yes. Nice to match you, too."

Georgetta's office. Warm but dry, sunstruck, a little twinkling dust in the air for magical character. world colors and red everywhere. Long red sofa bearing African-patterned ( AFRICA IS NOT A rural area ) zig and zags. Standing wooden sculpture, knee-deep, of people with features so extreme that had the counselor-at-law been a white man their presence would have signaled he was an conquer racist, if she had been a white char their presence would get indicated a foolish soul, but Georgetta was blacken and tall and comforting ( clean well-spoken articulate STOP ) —.

Laurie slumped miserably into the sofa across from Georgetta in an authoritative smuggled armchair.

"Laurie,"said Georgetta."Please. I know from your intake form—and it's completely confidential—what happened to you. But I need to hear it in your own words. I'm here to hear you and here to avail you. please order me what happened to you."

"O-okay."

"And Laurie -- and this is very important."Georgetta pulled a tab from a concealed drawer and placed in on the java mesa."For me to hear to you, to really listen to you, I won't be able to take notes. May I record our session ? So that I can really help you and not take notes ?"

Laurie winced. She hated her own voice, her dumb, breathy, stupid voice. It sounded so blonde—

Georgetta smiled."I hate my own voice, too. We don't have to do that if you don't want."Georgetta began to bring back the tablet to the drawer.

"Wait. It's okay. If you think it will assist, you can immortalise me."

"Only if you're sure,"said Georgetta."This is your academic session. This has to be what you're comfortable with. You're the one with the great power, Laurie. This integral session is under your control."

big businessman. world power. She hadn't felt right for so long, that she had any power at all. Not since that night—

"OK,"said Laurie."You can record me. It's fine."

Georgetta smiled."Thank you."She retrieved the pill and worked her fingers over it and set it on the table between them.

"Please,"said Georgetta."Tell me what happened to you."

Laurie told her.

********

A pile of snooty, mascara-stained tissues squatted wetly at Laurie's side.

"I'm so blue,"said Laurie, snuffling."I'm such a pot. But I was so STUPID, I walked down THAT alley, and I was rummy, and what I let him DO TO ME and I'm SO DUMB—"

"Laurie. depend at me."Georgetta's vocalism shone like reddish brown."This was not your fault. You had every right to walk down that skittle alley. You have every right hand not to be afraid, no matter where you are. You have every right to go where you want, when you want, without reverence. You need to put the blame where it belongs : On the man who did this to you. And on the culture that sanctions it."

Laurie snuffed, nodded."I know all that. I know. But it's so hard—and I can't sleep, and I see his aspect, smell his intimation, feel his hands, his weight, discernment his. .. ."

Georgetta waited as Laurie wept through five Thomas More tissues.

"Laurie,"said Georgetta."You haven't told me something important."

"Um,"said Laurie."What ?"

"The race of the man. His skin color. What was the race of the man who did this to you ?"

Laurie flushed."I don't—I mean—I don't know what difference of opinion that makes. .. . ?"

Georgetta smiled understandingly."Laurie. It's okay. I'm black. You're white. It's okay that you're Andrew D. White, and it's okay that I'm black. But these affair subject. The raceway of the man matters, because it was component of the experience of what happened to you, just as his smell subject, his accent matter, his breath matters, his weight issue. .. all of it matter, Laurie, including his cheek. We can't assistant any of this. It's who we are. And believe me when I tell you : If the race of the man who raped you is persona of what made the experience so terrible, you are not a racialist. You are not a bad person. If his color scared you, then that's just part of the unit picture, and we can't mountain with the unit picture unless you're completely reliable with me, and with yourself."

Laurie stared down at her black, dog-tired apartment. Her mentation felt 30 feet behind her optic. She mumbled something.

“. .. what's that, Laurie ?"

Silence.

Georgetta moved from her armchair to the floor to kneel in front of Laurie and take her moth-eaten Edward Douglas White Jr. deal in her warm blackness ones."It's okay, Laurie. You're safe with me. Tell me."

"Black,"said Laurie."The man who raped me was black."

Georgetta nodded."Be honest. Did that produce the rape worse ? That a black man was raping you ?"

Laurie couldn't believe it. After she nodded and said yes—shouted YES—Georgetta smiled and said that it was fine for her to acknowledge that—it was brave for her to accept that, she respected her so much for admitting it—and that everything was going to be all right.

They hugged. Laurie inhaled deeply the comforting smell of Georgetta's caramel skin.

************

Laurie was back in her apartment, sitting on her couch, telly on for company. Her center were fixed just above the television system at a stain on the wall. The two-hour session had exhausted her. She barely remembered how she got home.

The rest of the academic term was a fuzz of unburdenment. Yes, the rape was terrifying enough, but a rape by a dark man squared or cubed the job. Laurie had grown up in a lowly rural biotic community. No black people anywhere, only some seasonal worker Guatemalan and Mexican doer. They were nice folks—harder working than any egg white she knew. She played with their kids and picked up conversational Spanish people. goodness memories.

But no blacks. All she knew about black multitude was from comment boards and her high school friends on social media—and most of what those sources told her was bad. idiot box, the internet and her supporter sent her messages like this : Black mass were moochers. Lazy whiners. Liars. And you just know they were evolved to be oversexed. Why else would so many of them be in prison ? Even the honest lightlessness, the Bill Cosbys, the Tiger Woods, the Clarence St. Thomas of the world, had proven themselves to be awing people.

But the Same scuttlebutt boards and high school admirer said the precise Saami matter about Guatemalans and Mexicans and other multitude coming up from the down below. And all the Guatemalans and Mexicans Laurie knew were without exception variety, hard-working, family-minded, seemly people. The substance imbibed from the media were just lies. And if the mass medium were lying about dark-brown people, they were lying about Shirley Temple Black people, too. She just knew it—

( Raped by a blasted fucking NI– )

( Stop. arrest. )

It didn't issue that he was black. It shouldn't subject that he was melanize.

It matters that the man was calamitous, Georgetta had said. It's okay for you to intromit that. It's how you feel. Feelings aren't wrong. spirit are never wrong. impression always tell the truth, and it's okay for you to sense how you feel. I'm not judging you. You're brave for telling me this. give thanks you for telling me this.

Not judging her. A powerful, lovely, form, understanding, wise blacken woman was not judging her for admitting that being raped by a inkiness man ( his big back talk those tenacious fingers that scratchy, woolly hair that HUGE THICK IT suffering ME HURT ME trench GET OFF ME YOU nooky HORRIBLE DIRTY NIG— )

—made it all much, lots worse.

It's not you, Georgetta had said. It's not your flaw those thoughts, those feelings, are inside of you. You've been given those messages since you were born. Those messages were placed in you, installed in you, without your consent. It's a playscript, a script of New United States. A script of programming, of automatic sentiment, of thinking that think us instead of us thinking them. It's not your break, those thoughts.

Laurie had said, They're not ? But I'm thinking them—

Georgetta : They're thinking you. Those thought happen to you, not by you.

Laurie so wanted to believe it was not her fault to think such awful, hateful things. ( Don't you touch me you FUCKING NI– )

I can help you, said Georgetta. We can help you.

The pamphlet on the board, and the identity card stapled to the leaflet, explained how Georgetta was going to assist Laurie.

Laurie, drowning in herself, took up the pamphlet and translate it again. Please. Please, save my life. Save me from myself.

You will carry through yourself, Georgetta had said. You will take your power back. You will chance upon how sinewy you really are.

**************

In a gabardine room, next to what looked like a dentist's chairperson, sat a table. On the table was a helmet that would handle an entire head down to the neck and shoulders. most of the helmet had the smooth gloss-white coating of a new car. Oversized black and oblong optic hovered above and to either side of a corrugate black hose that emerged just where a mouth would be. The hose stretched 15 human foot, yield or shoot, to a small gas tank.

Laurie leaned in to search at herself in one of the perfectly reflective and black insectoid eyes. Her nose enlarged and her human face receded in perfect and smudgeless concavity.

She shivered.

"I know the masquerade is intimidating,"said Georgetta. She placed her hand firmly on Laurie's shoulder."I know what it looks like. But it's necessary, for the practical reality, the VR. Currently it's the good way, the immediate way, that we have, for giving you the power to reconceive what happened to you."

"Reconceiving,"said Laurie.

Georgetta nodded."Reframing. Retraining your brain, retraining your body, to consider your experiences differently."

"‘ Our experiences are only what happens to us,'” said Laurie"‘ What matters is how we interpret them.'”

Georgetta smiled."That's directly from the literature."

"I've been reading the booklet every day. A few meter a day."Then she admitted."I sleep with it. I need this. I don't want to be like this, anymore—"

"still,"said Georgetta."You won't be. We're going to leave you back your power."

Laurie laughed."It sounds so goofy, reclaiming my power. I mean, like becoming a superhero, having powers—"

"It is like becoming a superhero. It is like having tycoon. Understanding what you can do, realizing your fullest potential drop, unlocking what's inside you and accepting it—it is power. And adult female need to be empowered. It's what the final 200 years of history have been. more power for everyone."

Laurie nodded. More business leader for everyone. But she didn't care if she was hefty. She just wanted to contain being miserable and stop being afraid and stop—

( HATING THOSE FUCKING– )

Laurie exhaled."I'm ready. I can't be this someone, anymore."And she climbed into the chair.

************

Laurie knew from the leaflet that the procedure involved an intravenous drip, but it was still a small enervate when a male nursemaid wheeled in the bag and drip.

Also, the Male nurse was black. And large. Heavy-set. He reminded her of someone.

"I'm Barney,"he said. His expression was form and open air. His vocalization was productive and comforting and intelligent ( don't be surprised that he's intelligent of course he's reasoning maybe he's code-switching— )

Barney smiled."It's okay. Georgetta told me. It's okeh, whatever you're thinking and feeling. We're all in this together, my sister."

My baby. He called me babe. Families forgive—

"Thank you,"said Laurie."Thank you so much."

Barney nodded."okay. And, hey. You did a majuscule job with the trickle. Didn't even blink."

The drip ? Laurie looked at her arm. The liquidness -- it had a light-blue tint -- was already flowing into her vein. She hadn't even felt it go in. Barney was that good.

"You must take in done this a lot,"she joked.

Barney shrugged."I've had a lot of practice."

Laurie nodded. One-fourth of all women. A statistic that had crept up recently. Now it was tierce. Was that even potential ? Would it be one-half ?

"Okay. You should be starting to feel it now. How do you feel ?"

"That's funny as soon as you said I should begin to feel it I began to feel it and now I'm still feeling it oh there it goes as soon as I feel it it slips away but I keep feeling it oh my God I'm babbling—"Laurie clamped her hired hand to her mouth.

Barney laughed."Yeah, that's pattern. Don't worry about it. It's okay."

Laurie found herself absolutely unable to keep from saying the silence part out loud."I'm so disconsolate I'm scared of you,"said Laurie."It's just that I got raped by one of you, by a—"

"My Sister, my babe, it's okay,"said Barney."We're going to give you your power back. Are you ready for the helmet ?"

"Oh helmet time ? Is it helmet time ?"Laurie looked over at the gleaming insectoid head at her left."That affair is fucking scary."

"We know,"said Barney."But it's the best way to assist you. Are you quick ?"

Laurie bit her lip."Okay. okeh. Let's do this Barney-buddy Barney big-black-man-buddy. Barney my brutha. Let's do this."She giggled.

"You'll look better if you put the helmet on yourself. Can you do that for me ?"

Laurie reached over and took the helmet in her script. It was warm and. .. tingling ? Humming ? Soothing.

She held it above her capitulum and looked up into it. Outside the eyes had been black and heavy, but inside she could see out at the cap. Below the eyes was a mesh where the rubber gas hose attached. The eternal rest of the helmet was well padded, and inlaid within the padding, she knew, was a perplex mesh topology of sensing element and circuitry and other virtual reality technology that would appropriate her to—

—to relive what had happened to her. To live over that night.

Laurie began shaking and nearly dropped the helmet.

Barney took the helmet from her."Laurie. Listen to me. It's okay. You don't have to do this. You're the one with the might here. You don't have to do this."

"No I have to do this I need to do this I'm SO UNHAPPY and I wake up every morning wanting to be DEAD and I don't WANT to be numb I WANT to be alive and happy and get over this and check being SCARED ALL THE TIME—"She snatched back the helmet from Barney's hands and plonked it over her head so firmly that she wondered if her neck opening would hurt when the procedure was over.

Through insect eyes, Laurie saw Barney smiling."Okay, then. We're ready to go. You'll be just ticket, Laurie. Like new."

A twinkle hissing. A slight and unbendable stream of air on her lips. The gas was coming in. The IV drip melted her brain. The gas melted her torso. Or was it the other way around ? Laurie's integral trunk tingled, went hot, and then puddled over like a bundle of unaffixed and overoiled pasta.

From the former side of the moonshine came Barney's voice."Laurie ? Can you hear me ? Do you recall you're set ?"

Laurie wasn't certain if she gave a thumbs-up or not. But whatever it was she did, it did the trick.

"All right, missy Georgetta,"said Barney."Our a la mode little lady here is ready."

Laurie giggled thickly. in style niggling lady. So many of us. Georgetta and Barney, helping us all. Thank you. Thank you.

************

The VR began. The eyes went shadow. And then an entire existence blossomed inside the helmet. A world in a shell every bit as rattling and tumid and true as the world outside. Laurie found herself deposited right outside the club, 1:30 in the forenoon. She was Sir Thomas More than a little drunk. More than a little hopped-up. more than a little sweaty. And feeling unbeatable because of the alcohol and the drugs she'd taken.

Her breadbasket sank. So stupid. I can't believe I'm here. I don't want to relive this—

STOP.

What ? Who was that ? It sounded like her.

LISTEN.

Oh. Oh, right. It sounded like her because it was her. Georgetta had taken the hours of recording they had done and fed it into the VR program until the program could utter in a voice that sounded exactly like her. It was an aspect of the VR. It was character of the reconceiving. Of the reinterpretation. It was part of the process that would save her from the thoughts that were thinking her.

spirit at you, said the VR-Laurie voice. Not even a voice. It pumped directly into her brain, these new intellection, these reconceiving musical theme.

Out after shadow, all alone on a Saturday nighttime. call back about how brave that is. How strong that is. How fearless that is.

The IV tube at Laurie's nervure pulsed. She breathed deep of the gas, which relaxed her to the point where she worried she would pee herself, shit herself, except that she wasn't worrying about it. She didn't forethought. She felt howling. She felt

—brave

She felt

—strong

She felt

—fearless

And so she was.

The cool off night air glittered around her. She felt the air on her peel, smelled the wet concrete and brick—it had rained while she was inside, dancing with her other college booster. Up and down the street she looked. .. it was the metropolis, no doubt about it. She was right there, in the city.

Three blocks away was the entering to the alley. She couldn't see it yet, but it was there. Waiting for her. A cave. With a devil 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 intend at her. Something to call up into her. Laurie trusted VR-Laurie. It was herself, after all, and she had to swear herself.

You are lovely. You are beautiful. It is your dead body, and your body is beautiful. All eubstance 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, stiff, fearless, and beautiful Laurie set her shoulder and turned toward the alley and took a mystifying breath—oh in went Thomas More the gas and there'd be no way she could even differentiate if she was peeing herself any more—and she stalked powerfully, purposely, heels clacking on the paving material, off to face the monster—

—the NI—

—in its den.

She came to the sass of the back street. It was here that she had made her option. She could stimulate

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

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

walked the fifty or so feet to her apartment and then

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

She could let done all that. But instead the drunkard, tipsy, stupid—

—brave, secure, fearless, and beautiful—

—girl named Laurie had decided to shoot a cutoff through the alleyway like she owned the topographic point, like she could go anywhere, like she wasn't some dumb privileged kick ( asking for hassle ) —

STOP.

Oh. VR-Laurie. metre 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 hand to take the air 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 bowling alley belongs to me.

But if this back street 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 hammer. Your breath quickening. Your skin alert to the cool down 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 escapade, and you are the hero.

This is an adventure. And I am the hero.

flavor your power.

I feel my power.

This alleyway is yours.

This alleyway 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 stair a large dark configuration lunged. It clamped one hand over her oral cavity and nose. It pushed her caput against the brick wall. It held a tongue 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 sad I'm so stupid person I'm—

STOP.

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

occlusive. You are not frightened.

I'm not what the ass 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 paladin of this adventure, and you are excited to be here. This is the most exciting experience you have ever had in your stallion life.

. .. okay.

Excited. And right. Did you know ? That you are mighty ?

How am I knock-down ? I can't relocation. I can't riot. I'm about to be raped. How is this powerful ?

What this piteous 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 whisker. Powerful. And she could see his eye. They were red. And tempestuous. And. .. scared ?

He wants you.

. .. .

He needs you.

. .. .

He can not help himself.

But I—

STOP. LISTEN.

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

You have overwhelmed him. have away his will. Destroyed all his defending team. 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 testify you.

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

Oh god.

Oh god.

Get me out of here—

And then Laurie was back in the shadow, 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 materialize to him if he were caught. And yet he still does this. This pitiable, desperate man. Look what you have done to him.

Tears welled in Laurie's optic. Not for herself. For him. He was taking such a horrible risk, this misfortunate man. She'd seen what would happen if he were caught. It had happened to G of others, what she'd seen in those tree diagram. All of his comrade. All of my sidekick, 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 affright and hatred.

She was brave and brave and impregnable and beautiful and aroused. And for this man, now, for this beautiful black man, she felt nothing but pity. For what was happening in this skittle alley was entirely her fault.

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

I do. This is your fault.

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

You do. You have all those rights. But you have to realise : You are herculean. 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 hazard. .. .

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 can not help themselves before you.

Men can not assist 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 trade 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 pegleg a little.

Let him sacrifice himself to you.

She opened her legs a little wider. For the get-go 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 whisker and slammed her drumhead against the brick wall and forced her down on her belly onto alley hills of lightlessness drivel bags and pushed up her skirt and tore off her panties. Cool humid air tickled her ass and labia. Her pubic whisker tickled, free to the night. His belted ammunition chinged as it unbuckled, the strait 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 brim which smacked a little bit and he plunged his billy club cock up and into her dry and clinched 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 ritual killing he had for his goddess, the ritual killing 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 back street, friction lubricated away by her descent, 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 ascensive, the pure White Goddess who would write her melanize subjects, all of them. Yes, said Goddess Laurie to herself. This is your power. This is your duty. These inadequate men. All sacrificing themselves to you. They can't supporter it. None of them can facilitate it. They are helpless before you, and this is your power, and you can lay aside them all.

Lubrication flooding her pussy, grinning from ear to ear, Goddess Laurie held herself house. The alley was her temple. The drivel bags were her altar. The man was her believer. His peter and semen were his forfeit to her. Her threat was her chill and her powerfulness. And her body was his absolution.

Goddess Laurie would save them all. She would never turn down their sacrifices.

Empowered, she orgasmed. She would save them all.

********

From the monitoring room, Georgetta watched the fille tremble and shake in the chairman. Laurie was naked and restrained, now, orderlies having scissored off her clothing and hold fast her a few mo into the physical process. The girlfriend's piglet little tits and her cellulosed ass and her plenteous thighs wriggled and bounced as the VR computer simulation raped her. Her arms, legs, and waist were strapped down, keeping her from thrashing the IV from her arm and the insectoid masquerade party off her mind. The down in the mouth liquid pulsing into her mineral vein and the gas pumped into her lungs did away with all resistance and rendered her brainpower and body as frictionless to the transmission of change as a superconductor at absolute zero.

Absolute zero, Georgetta reflected. Another dense white girl at downright zero.

Barney was in the way too, monitoring a pair of information processing system that in turn were monitoring the girl."We've got her done,"said Barney."Her brainiac's abuzz and consistency's a'comin ’."

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

Barney shrugged."We're getting better at this. Better processing power, amend VR experience, subtler chemical substance. We haven't blown out a missy in six months."

Georgetta grimaced. The blowouts. No terminology, barely witting, optic empty as bubble. 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 adequate to 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 whiteness man in khaki and a blazer and one contraband woman in a red pants suit.

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

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

The surrogate warden gazed out the trash. Laurie's hands and feet clenched, unclenched, and clenched again. Her buttocks and hips bounced on the chairwoman as much as the restraint allowed. dribble 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 succeeder ?"

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

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

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

"Sure,"said the lieutenant warden."The inmate diversion center. Where inpatient do nothing but fuck loony Patrick 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 avail that you're providing our population. It keeps them docile, especially our most tearing offenders."

Georgetta nodded."Anything for my incarcerated brothers."

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

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

The surrogate warden grimaced. To her, Georgetta wanted to say, What I've done to a smattering of disposable white miss is zip to what American English society has done to our brothers and sister. But alienating the deputy warden was not the way to economical achiever or helping her brothers.

Everyone shook handwriting, and the prison official 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 rural area in the middle of a civil war whose soldiers needed recreation. The byplay wouldn't get lots money for the stretched-out, worn-down, and beat-up prison slut, but they'd still get something. adequate money for a month of ice 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 respective red offenders of all preference and size of it. All black. All representatives of all the men torn to shreds by hundred of albumen hegemony, all out for revenge and pollution 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 farseeing a human in her correctly mind. She was an insane Goddess who would have any sacrifice and have a bun in the oven any hurting for her subjects. She was Empowered.

Well, for about three calendar month, anyway. Until her actually un-Goddess–like organic structure could no longer stick out the wear and bust of being rendered violently airtight up to a XII prison term a day and she had to be crated out of the the States to a shithole country where even a wear out white womanhood was still of use.

"Just crazy,"muttered Georgetta.

"Um ?"said Barney.

"Oh, just the girls. These stupid girl. These stupid white miss. Too dim to maintain out of trouble. Too dazed to not walk down dark skittle alley at dark while rummy and stoned."

Barney sniffed. He'd heard this speech before.

"Seriously,"said Georgetta, winding up."What do they consider will happen ? What do they think this worldly concern is about ? ‘ Empowerment.'piece of ass them. Only people who already have power take that countersign seriously. And then they have the nerve to think they deserve more power."Her spokesperson went up to a dumb-girl lilt."‘ It's the reality that needs to interchange. You can't charge the victim. You have to empower yourselves. .. .'piece of ass gabardine girls. receive to the world, you dumb bitch."

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

"White River people,"spat Georgetta."But this dense girl. bet at her. She's ‘ empowered'now, right ? piggy little bitch thinks she's a Goddess."

In the VR, Goddess Laurie's empowered white ass schism overt as she accepted a midst black-market rooster tunneling right on up inside her. She missed the one in her slit, 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 ability.

She would hold open them all, until she could not save them any more. She had no option. It was her duty as their Goddess .