"They have no idea, do they? They live in their ivory towers, surrounded by comforts they never earned and thinking themselves kind and honest and earnest in their compassion, but... well, you know how it is. We all do what we must in this world, don't we?" Guadalupe nodded, a little bit surprised by the intensity of her assent. Somehow, this white woman, this complete stranger who looked as out of place sitting at a bus station as Guadalupe felt taking business classes with her hands still stinking of bleach, had put her thumb exactly on the frustrations that the Latina woman experienced every day. Her heart ached to hear it put into words.

But the stranger's gaze, so warm and sweet and compassionate, soothed the ache her words created. Her pupils were wide in the dim light of the flickering sodium arc lamp, leaving only the thinnest rim of russet brown around the dark voids. She stared tenderly into Guadalupe's eyes, and a tiny, sympathetic smile quirked the corners of her lips as she continued. "I can see you understand. You're a young woman, yes, but already so wise to the ways of the world, and you do what you must to survive. No matter what the struggle requires, you do it because it is a... a...." The woman paused for a moment, mumbling under her breath as she tried to translate the word into English from whatever Eastern European language she spoke.

"A necessity!" she crowed triumphantly, and Guadalupe nodded again in sympathy. She spoke two languages as well, better than most of her classmates spoke one, but she felt their smug, condescending stares on her skin every time she stumbled or hesitated for even a moment. It was the only time she felt visible to them, in the hot stinging spotlight of their scorn, and she would give anything to be able to turn their contempt back on them with a torrent of Spanish that they would stare at in vacant incomprehension. But of course that too would be her failing. She had to win by their rules or not at all.

And this woman, despite her icy pale skin and her frost-white hair... she knew what it was like. She spoke with an accent, she struggled with the language, she waited too long for the last bus of the night because the alternative was an hour's walk through the worst parts of town. Oh, she might be wearing the slinky, revealing dress of a prostitute instead of the cheap, drab coveralls of a cleaner, but they both understood the same struggle. Guadalupe could see it in her eyes, the russet brown turned red by the yellowed illumination of the street lamps. She could hear it in her soft, sympathetic tones. They were kindred spirits.

Despite her usual inclination for solitude, Guadalupe was glad the stranger had struck up this conversation. This woman was no conspiracy theorist, no late-night creeper who wanted to take advantage of Guadalupe's inability to leave the tiny shelter. She was fascinating. Riveting. Guadalupe hung on her every word. "The men we work for, the ones who think themselves so strong and tough and fierce as they add up numbers and shout their tantrums at other, weaker men... they have no idea what it's like to truly do what must be done to survive. Put them in your world, and they would die within days." Guadalupe gave a tiny huff of amusement at the thought of her classmates adding three jobs to their ‘impossible' workloads.

"But you and I, we know all too well how to do what must be done. We strip the world down to those necessities, because the foolish considerations that those soft, comfortable idiots elevate to the heights of paramountcy are simply... irrelevant to us. They fill the air with puffed-up farts of self-importance about ‘the plight of the working poor', but do they ever achieve anything? Or do they simply go back home to their creature comforts while we squat in squalor?" Guadalupe's eyes stung with frustrated tears as she recalled being harangued for her supposed apathy by campus agitators who lived on their parents' dime... but she didn't blink them away, and the stranger's gaze soon smoothed the pain into oblivion.

The woman snorted derisively, her eyes flaring even wider at the injustices she described. "No, there is no substitute for a woman like you. A woman of inner strength, of ruthless determination to survive. Let the world fawn and worship over ‘titans of industry' and ‘great leaders', and give me a single cleaning lady to stand by my side!" Guadalupe nodded raptly, her eyes shining--she'd never realized until she heard it in the stranger's voice just how much power she'd failed to notice in herself. It had all been bound up in the constant grind of job after job, of studying on too little sleep and struggling in classes where the only expectation placed on her was failure, of surviving in a world that cared nothing for her. Guadalupe was just now becoming aware of how much resilience and dedication that took.

She leaned in a little closer, suddenly eager to drink in every syllable of the stranger's speech. "I can see in your eyes that you understand," the pale woman cooed softly, her red-rimmed gaze swallowing up Guadalupe's exhaustion and leaving the young Latina woman strangely energized. Her whole body tensed up with a perplexing, inexplicable excitement, as though she'd forgotten all the intervening months and it was Christmas Eve already. She didn't want to sleep anymore. She wanted to, to... Guadalupe felt more than thought the answer, a tiny whimper escaping her throat as she turned to face the other woman more directly.

"You understand what it is to do what you must to survive, and I... you could never know how grateful that makes me." The streetlight flickered again overhead, but Guadalupe paid it no mind. Even in the darkness, she could still see the supple alabaster skin of the stranger, lit by nothing but the sliver of moon overhead but somehow glowing with a soft, hazy inner radiance. It was so odd--when Guadalupe first saw her, she assumed from the white hair that the other woman was old, much older than Guadalupe, but the more she studied that beautiful pale face the more she realized she was mistaken. The stranger wasn't old, she wasn't young. She was timeless in her beauty. Guadalupe felt equally timeless staring back at her.

And yet, that beauty was tinged with ineffable sadness. Hidden, yes. Veiled behind the pools of compassion that filled those deep, dark eyes. But Guadalupe could recognize it now for what it was. "I'm weary unto death of terror, sweet girl," the stranger murmured, gathering Guadalupe a little bit closer still as she spoke until their breasts pressed lightly together. "I'm so sick of watching those whose whole lives are filled with abundance begrudge me even the slightest drop of charity. Those who have little know what it means to give much, don't you?" Guadalupe couldn't help nodding. A handful of change for the bus, an extra place at dinner... they were insignificant gestures to many, but she knew how profound they could be.

"And although you think of yourself as poor, sweet girl, you have so much strength to surrender." The words coaxed something from deep within Guadalupe's mind, an intangible energy that dripped out between her thighs onto the other woman's stroking, teasing fingers. Guadalupe didn't know how long those fingers had been inside her, exploring her warmth, rubbing her tingling clit until her whole body was electric with arousal. She'd been so fascinated by those dark, beautiful eyes that the little details got lost. Unzipping her coveralls, spreading her legs for the stranger's touch... none of that mattered. Only that mesmerizing gaze, that soothing voice.

The voice centered Guadalupe, keeping her attention riveted on the stranger's bottomless eyes while those coaxing fingers teased out more and more sensation from Guadalupe's soaking cunt. It didn't feel like the clumsy fumblings in the dark she sometimes had with her boyfriend; this woman knew exactly how to touch her to tug out every last bit of pleasure and more than pleasure. "You're what I need, sweet girl," the pale, ageless woman cooed. Guadalupe moaned; she'd never felt more desired. "You're exactly what I need tonight."

Guadalupe's head slowly drooped forward until she was touching the other woman's forehead, warm skin against cool, still drinking in that endless, bottomless stare. "I need your kindness, sweet girl. I need your strength. But most of all, I need your understanding. You know what it is like to be hungry, and you know how it feels to look deep down inside yourself and realize that if it is a choice between doing what must be done and dying, then you will do what you must to survive." Guadalupe tried to nod, but it was only a tiny twitch of the muscles now. She felt so deliciously weak, drugged with pleasure, and she didn't want to move anymore tonight.

The lamp overhead flickered and failed, plunging the two of them into warm, comforting darkness. Guadalupe sighed, wriggling closer to allow her lover's fingers to sink deeper into her slick, soaking pussy; the silent shadows drew a blanket over the two of them, turning the bus shelter into an intimate space for them to make love. "There is no fear in you, none of the pathetic bleating of a puffed-up fool whose biggest nightmare is the good times finally coming to an end. No, my darling, you know that I only do what I must. Even if I took it all from you, you would give freely until the last drop of your strength vanished into my gaze." Guadalupe didn't need to say yes. She only needed to relax into the other woman's cool, strong embrace.

Guadalupe shuddered in wanton lust as another orgasm wracked her body, releasing some inchoate essence along with it to flow freely into the stranger's gaze. The other woman glowed brighter now, her body silver among the night's shadows, but Guadalupe understood she was no longer seeing her lover with her eyes alone. They had entered into a kind of communion, their spirits mingling, and Guadalupe could finally see just how brightly she herself shone in this otherworldly perception. No wonder the stranger was drawn to her. Guadalupe must have beamed like a beacon in the darkness.

"That's it, pretty girl," the stranger cooed, petting Guadalupe's long, dark hair with her free hand. "There's no need to fear. There's no need to struggle. Just let go and give freely, knowing that you're doing what must be done. As am I." The pleasure grew stronger, even as Guadalupe felt vast chunks of herself calving away from her essence to disappear into the endless oceans of the other woman's hungry gaze. Guadalupe didn't miss them, not when more and more ecstasy flowed in to replace what was missing. She had no idea what would happen if they kept going, if she could even survive without the pieces of her soul that she was surrendering to the pale stranger who held her mind and body, but she couldn't bring herself to care. It was what had to happen. Guadalupe understood that now.

The sounds of the city at night became an irrelevant background noise, cars and buses diminishing down to a quiet drone as they passed by. Headlights swept briefly over them from time to time, but every minute brought fewer and fewer until at last it was just the two of them. Guadalupe wanted to be alone with her Mistress like that, to share herself in the silent darkness and give her lover everything the other woman needed to survive in a world that cared nothing for them. The supply of her spirit seemed inexhaustible, and yet she'd never felt so exhausted; all she wanted to do was sleep in her lover's embrace until their souls mingled together as one. "That's it, pretty girl. No fear. No worries. Not anymore." Guadalupe tried to nod, but her body was limp with ecstasy now.

"I'm going to take a tiny bit more, sweet girl," the stranger cooed softly to her in the darkness. "Just a little, just what I need. It's going to leave you hungry, I know. But you're strong. You are ruthless in your determination. And I know you will do what you have to in order to survive." The fingers slipped out of her pussy. The woman disappeared into the night. And Guadalupe waited in silence for someone to happen upon her.

THE END