Street Rats Ch. 01

"We have to take her to the bosses. They'll know what's best. And we can't keep something like this secret from them—it's too big and too dangerous. Remember your oaths, Stathan. Blood oaths! It's our duty to go to the bosses. They can arrange a ransom. A big payoff. We won't get much of it, but some—and we couldn't manage that on our own in any case. They can. They'll know who to talk to, and how to talk to them without just getting fried."

"You're dreaming. Fuck the bosses. They're just as scared of the witch-bitches as you are. All they'd do is slit our girl's throat and dump her in the bay. If they didn't—if they decided they didn't need to go that far—then they'll just make a whore of her."

"You've done that already."

"I've shared her with you, but I've made no coin off her. I'd never sell her favors, not ever. I didn't bring her here for that. I brought her here for myself alone."

"She's not yours alone," said Shogo, "Whatever else she is, she isn't that."

"Isn't she? I brought her here—this is my place."

"You didn't bring her by yourself. And this was always my hideaway as much as yours. You found it first, I grant you. But you'd never have driven out the Yellowhairs if I wasn't with you that following day. Do you dare deny that now? Look me in the face when you answer!"

She wondered who the Yellowhairs had been. Just another group of boys like this, or something else? Creatures of some sort. Hard to say.

"I don't deny it, Brother Shogo. You speak fair. But now you must answer me this—was it not you that wanted to abandon the girl, in the tunnels? As soon as we escaped the bathhouse. Was it not I that kept her with us, despite your constant protests, in my ear? You nearly quarreled with me, did you not?"

"I thought it rash, yes. At first. It was not a question to come to blows over. Not with city guard so close at our heels."

"I appreciated your restraint. My point stands—the girl would not be here now if I had heeded you. Is that not so?"

"And we would not be having this argument. But yes, it is so, Brother Stathan. You speak fair."

"That is why I say the girl is mine. That does not mean I'll not share her with the rest of you—for I have already, have I not? And I will continue to share her, so long as you all continue to help me keep her. So long as each of you stay true, like a brother. You might each fuck the girl a hundred times, so long as you never forget she's mine. That won't change."

"It will, when her sisters arrive."

"Fah. None of the witches are half so great and terrible as you imagine, Prohale. If they were, Shogo and I wouldn't have got away from that bathhouse. We've had this girl with us three whole days and nights, just about. No one has come searching for her. No one will."

Stathan was probably quite right, the bastard. Neither she, nor the mission she had been on, were of any great significance to the larger world of witchery. In time, her sisterhood would investigate her disappearance, or more likely contract another sisterhood with better resources to do so. Still, she didn't imagine they would consider undertaking such action for months or even years.

Her superiors would be reluctant to pursue the truth, for fear of unearthing anything disreputable and scandalous, which indeed is what would happen ... If they ever found her, or if they could have glimpsed her that very moment as she was, censure would indeed far outweigh any sympathy. Stathan was entirely correct about that.

9.

Three miserable days later, she conjured a sleep spell on the whole group. It was the only helpful bit of magic she could think of that she knew she could probably pull off without the assistance of her lost talismans to boost her unimpressive power level. Still took her five or six fumbling attempts before she got it to work. She suspected the main problem was that she'd been mumbling the invocation too softly, in order to prevent the boys from noticing what she was trying. They never normally went to sleep all at once. Always kept a sentry or two lurking on the stairs by the hole in the wall, taking shifts. A sensible policy. Even then, the slightest noise could jolt the rest to their feet with knives drawn. Street rats were skittish. They would have to be.

When she finally grew fed up enough with her own pathetic cowardice and weakness, and recited the spell in a loud voice, it worked fine. As she'd expected—as she'd feared—it immediately drew all the boys' attention when she began the invocation, yet she was still able to complete the spell before they made any move to silence and stop her. They didn't seem to realize what might happen; either that, or it didn't occur to them how easily they could have wrecked her effort. Just a slight shove might have disrupted her concentration too much, since her Talent was so low. Luckily none of them tried anything of the sort. They all only gaped at her with worried expressions until it was too late, and then the whole bunch toppled over like they were dead. They were only knocked out, though.

She took all Stathan's clothes and put them on as fast as she could. They didn't fit her very well, not that it mattered. They didn't make her smell very nice, either. Then again, she probably stank just as much without them.

So long as she was covered, she was satisfied. She could get out of there, and she could get out of that city. Ridiculous as she looked, she guessed she would not attract notice in the streets as she made her way to the city gates. Indeed, many in the throng were dressed in much more ragged, much smellier costumes than the tight vest and baggy breeches she'd taken from Stathan. (She'd also grabbed a floppy cap from another of the group, to tuck her hair up inside and hopefully help hide the fact she was female.) Cities are never short of the poor and the wretched.

Stocks had been erected in a market square. A great many of them. As she was passing the platform, she recognized the woman who had owned the bathhouse among those suspended in shameful display. She was drenched with filth and seemed to be unconscious. A moment later, Chade spotted the beautiful elf savage from the tavern, Nirri, under a sign that read "Disgusting Lewdness". So the Sisterhood of the Pillars had objected to her provocative costume. Poor thing. She was entirely naked—all of them were, in the stocks. Seemed extremely hypocritical. They thought she'd been exposing herself too much in her outfit, and they'd taken it away from her, exposing her further.

Her backside was severely bruised. They'd taken a rod to her, looked like. Chade felt for her. The girl's spirit wasn't broken, though, judging from her expression. Fury alone, no contrition. Chade knew she would not have held out that well in her place. All the other captives in the stocks, if they hadn't lost consciousness like the bathhouse owner, they were moaning and pleading. A spectacle of woe, devastating. And Chade would have ended up like them. Disgraced and ruined.

The Sisterhood of Pillars was a serious problem, growing more and more serious. The other Favored sisterhoods were going to have to do something about them, and they better start soon. Chade's sisterhood, like Chade herself, wasn't strong enough to get involved. She had mixed feelings about that, now. She wished things were otherwise. The Pillars deserved a taste of their own proverbial medicine.

The city gates were in sight. At last! But then on the walkway that ran above them, a woman in a red cape happened to turn around. She looked directly at Chade and her eyes widened. "You!" She pointed at her. "You!" It was the witch from the bathhouse. She shouted to the surrounding guards. "Grab that woman! Her in the boy's clothes! She must be purged! Purged!"

Chade nearly pissed herself. She ran for the closest alleyway. Guards pursued her, hollering. While the witch above the gate kept hollering too. "You can't escape! You'll never escape!"

She wouldn't have got away except suddenly there right in her path was quite a large pig digging through a pile of dung as big as it was. She jumped over the pig and the dung—the guard that almost had her was too encumbered with his armor and weapons to achieve the same leap. He tripped on the pig and landed in the dung; the following guard tripped over him.

10.

She'd thought herself safe when she was back down in the sewer pipes out of view. Then shortly before she'd made it to the cellar, more soldiers appeared from another passage to the side. They had torches and one was holding a big net.

"There she is! Toldja we'd find her little ass down this way!"

She burst into tears and kept running, though her legs began to turn rubbery as panic consumed her, and a sudden horrible cramp flared in her ribs. The soldiers were laughing as they came after her. They didn't seem to be hurrying. They didn't see a need.

"You're just making it worse for yourself, sweetie."

She couldn't face the stocks! She couldn't face the rod! She'd go mad! She'd rather go mad, actually.

Then suddenly Stathan and his gang were in front of her. Stathan was scowling and he had no clothes on—well, of course he didn't. She hadn't left him any. He had a knife in each hand, though. The same was true of the rest of them.

"Don't let them take me!" she screeched, "Please!"

"We ought to, little fool," he said, "You led them here?"

"I didn't mean to! I swear! I'm sorry!"

He snorted and spat to one side. "Just ... just get behind us, girl."

She watched the street rats fight the soldiers in the pipe. She never thought they'd win. The soldiers were outnumbered, but they were bigger and they had armor and swords. All the street rats had were their knives. Chade herself was helpless and useless. She was convinced they would all get sliced to bits, and it would all be her fault.

That didn't happen. Somehow less than a minute later the soldiers were dead, and Stathan's gang was carrying away the corpses. Stathan himself stayed behind, with her. Alone.

"Give me my things back," was the first thing he said to her.

Her hands fumbling, she obeyed. He put his bright vest on when she passed it to him, but not the breeches. He slung them over his shoulder. He still had his knives in his hands. Blood was dripping off both blades. In fact his arms were soaked with blood to the elbows. Like he had red gloves on.

For some reason, not thinking about it, she'd left the crooked cap for last. It was a giddy feeling when she tugged it off and felt her hair tumble loose across her shoulders. "I'm a girl again," she thought. Which was foolish since she'd already exposed the rest of her body.

She looked down at his cock and it was hard, pointing at her face. By then she should have been used to the sight of it. It shouldn't still startle her as much as it did. She looked him in his face again and his expression was very stern. Some blood was spattered across his chin as well—she hadn't noticed before.

Her back was pressed to the curved, dank wall of the pipe. Her toes flexed and squelched in the gritty sludge along the bottom of the tunnel. She was utterly naked before him again. Trembling. Breathless. Tears continued to streak her cheeks. She kept her arms down straight at her sides, not trying to cover her chest or her crotch with her hands. Which didn't mean she didn't want to—more than anything, almost.

Even so, her cunt was wet and swollen. She slid her feet further apart, to ease its ache. That didn't help much. Might have worsened the aggravation, instead.

Finally Stathan said "You can put that cap back on. Looks kind of funny on you. I like it, I think. It's cute."

She sighed and she sniffled, and then she put on the cap again, but she didn't tuck her hair up hidden inside it that time.

"You look sad now," Stathan said, "Are you my girl or aren't you?"

She thought about it. "I'm yours," she answered. Saying it didn't mean it was true. It was what he wanted to hear, was all. He was angry enough with her already.

"But you fucking ran away from me, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry. It was a mistake. I came back."

"Because you had to."

"Because I had to," she agreed.

"You put my brothers at great risk. That's a difficult thing to forgive. I should punish you. I should probably punish you real bad."

Her stomach turned over. "Please don't hurt me. I didn't mean for it to happen like that. I swear I didn't. Also remember, I could have slit all your throats after I cast my sleeping spell."

"Lucky for you that you didn't, huh? Who would have saved you if you had?"

"I know. Please be merciful with me. If you're merciful with me, then ... then I'll be your girl. Like you want. I promise."

"Show me," he said, "Show me."

Chade knelt down in the sludge and took the street rat's cock in her mouth and sucked it. Saying what she'd said, no matter how many times she said it, didn't make it true. Then Stathan moaned, and hearing him, hearing how much intense satisfaction was in his voice as she submitted to him and pleasured him, it made Chade moan too. She didn't stop sucking as she did.

The moan was no lie. When she heard that sound from herself, she could tell it meant everything it signified. Everything he wanted from her.