Set in a quasi historical/fantasy city a young thief is captured.
In the darkest corner of the shop, furthest from the door Rukia waited. Perusing the low shelves she pretended to be browsing aimlessly, in truth she knew exactly what she was after. Jewellery covered the place, from plain copper bands to elaborately worked lattices of silver they were strewn across the wide, low benches and shelves, each with a price tag Rukia could never afford. Just as well then that she had no intention of paying for them. While she feigned a deep interest in a sliver torc encrusted with lapis lazuli (a hideous piece but one no doubt that would appeal to the wives of new money merchants with little taste and a great deal of cash. Certainly there was nothing to appeal to a woman of quality, but women of quality were rare in this quarter of the city, they frequented the jewellers on the boulevard of bells, not cramped little shops in the artisan’s quarter.
Rukia was from neither; her origins were decidedly simpler even than the merchants and craftsmen that had their homes here, within the city walls. Out in the semi slums beyond life was cheap, and so was the merchandise which meant that any respectable thief would make their way up city to work. Rukia had followed their example, though she had little experience. By rights at fourteen she should still be in a gang, helping the boys to direct the little ones in distracting folk in the crowds so that their purse could be snatched more easily. But routine and familiar though that work was after the boys (though you would not call them that to their faces if you valued your hide) had taken their cut and each of the little ones had their small share there was little indeed for poor Rukia. And so here she was, out to prove that she could make it on her own.
Turning the piece over in her hands Rukia flashed a glance sideways, the merchant was talking animatedly with a tall woman and her mousey husband, great belly jiggling as he gesticulated wildly.
Good, she thought he’s distracted. Turning slightly away from the door, and the merchant standing near it, Rukia plunged the torc into a deep pocket sewn into the inside of her jacket. No one stopped her. Moving on to another piece she began to examine it I should go, that’s worth more than enough for today, for this week. But she couldn’t pull herself away. Prudence warred with avarice for a moment while she gazed disinterestedly at a necklace of gilded bronze; Bolstered by her new found confidence and sense of triumph greed won out. Glancing once more to the side Rukia opened her jacket a fraction.
Her hand, necklace tightly clenched in her fist, was half way home when another caught her wrist; another much larger and far stronger than her own. Close to panic her eyes flashed right, the man holding her was at least six feet tall to her five four” and broadly built. Though in plain clothes he had a bronze plate swinging from a cord at his neck, Rukia couldn’t read but she knew what the writing said; security.
“Mr Krutcher!” he called. The merchant turned angrily, he was just on the verge of closing a sale.
“What?” he demanded shortly, seeing Rukia clenched in an iron grip he added “Why are you holding a customer?” The guard shook his head slightly
“Not a customer sir, thief.” Too scared to speak Rukia stayed silent, the merchant’s eyes narrowed
“Is that so, can you prove it.” Rukia had thought the man’s grip had been tight before, now it became painful. Slowly he began to pull her hand out of the pocket and into the open air. Unthinking she struggled against it, but the pressure was inexorable, she might as well have been trying to hold back the tide. Her hand was soon out in the open air, glittering chain dangling from between tightly clenched fingers.
Not satisfied the guard applied yet more pressure until the girl’s hand came open and Rukia gasped in pain, and she wasn’t the kind of girl to go crying to her mother over a scraped knee, not that her mother would have much cared. The tawdry piece of metal was clear for all to see now, and they had attracted quite a crowd.
Snatching the necklace off her open palm the merchant looked up at the taller guard
“Take her into the back; I will deal with her later.”
“What? No!” the girl finally found her voice as the guard began to lead her off, pulling franticly Rukia tried desperately to get away. After a few paces the man appeared to grow tired of this, picking her up in rough hands he threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her belabouring fists on his back.
Behind her Rukia heard a door opening, as the merchant returned to his customers with smiles and apologies the door slammed shut. At first all was cast into shadow, after the brightly lit shop with broad windows to let in the blistering sun the place they were now in was pathetically dim. She was dumped heavily on the ground, thankfully onto what seemed to be a pile of rough woven sacks than the cold stone floor its self. The man let go of her, but before she could even think about making a break for the exit, let alone work out where it was, one arm was caught up once more. Her limb was forced upwards and pressed against a wooden support, swiftly followed by the other. Shuffling about a little the guard was able to hold her tight against the wood with one hand while another groped around in the shadows for something.
It was rope, apparently for ignoring her grunts of protest and wasted struggles the guard soon had her wrists lashed to the post above her head. Bending down in front of her he spoke to her for the first time
“Bad idea robbing Mr Krutcher’s shop girl; enjoy yourself for a while, I have to go and work.” True to his word the guard went, heading back onto the shop floor. After a few moments Rukia’s eyes adjusted to the low light. As she had suspected she was being held in some sort of store room, bits and bobs were lying around everywhere from the sacks she was sprawled on to tools precisely laid out on a table, though maddeningly out of reach. The girl cast around for anything else which might prove useful, but although there was plenty about none of it recommended its self for use in an escape. Not yet resigned to her predicament Rukia renewed her struggle against the bonds holding her, hoping to wriggle free. Unfortunately stupid as the guard looked her was a dab hand with knots and the only results of her labours was sore wrists.
Rukia lost all perspective of time in her struggles and she jumped as the door was opened once more, dazzling her momentarily until it thudded shut again. After the bright spots had faded from her vision Rukia could see that it was the guard come back. To Rukia it seemed that he had been gone no more than quarter of an hour or so, though in truth the sun would soon be setting. Having overcome her initial shock and with her panic replaced by straightforward fear the street girl had regained something of her bravado
“I thought you had to work.” She sneered; the idea of an honest day’s work was foreign to her. Bending down to look her in the face the guard leaned in close
“I did, now I’m on my break, and the boss said I could have a little fun.”
That sounded bad and Rukia began to sweat.
“Oh lost your tongue have you?” he chuckled nastily. Standing up again he unbuckled her wide belt and grasped the top of his trousers, thrusting them down. There was a large bulge in his none too clean underpants till they too fell to the ground leaving room for a decent sized erection to spread its wings.
“I’m going to put this in your mouth you little thief, and you’re going to suck it.” It wasn’t a command; it was a statement of fact. Appalled though far from shocked Rukia squirmed closer to the post, aching arms forgotten; shaking her head she found some small measure of defiance worm its way through the fear and such propriety as a street girl had batter down the strange feeling between her thighs. In a ghost of a voice she said
“No,” he took a step closer, louder she said “No!” he stopped, but the mocking, leering smile didn’t shift. He said nothing but taking another step closer he brought his open hand down on her flat stomach, knocking the wind from her. Leaning close to her ear the man whispered
“The boss said not to bruise you, but I can leave you dead without a mark on your body.” He was probably lying, a thug like him didn’t have the skill, but panting for her breath Rukia wasn’t thinking all that clearly. Defiance had taken a serious knock when violence entered the ring, propriety too, but strangely that tiny spark of mistimed lust only grew.
[i]It’s not like you haven’t done it before,[i/] she reasoned with herself. After a minuet of desperate panting she straightened up again, as straight as she could with her arms above her head.
“Ready to play?” he sneered, his hard on even larger than before. She couldn’t speak, she simply nodded. He gave a nasty cackle of triumph and moved in closer to her. Standing over her the guard thrust his hips forward, brushing her lips with the head of his cock; reluctantly (as she told herself) she opened her mouth. Immediately he pushed his way in further, so that several inches hovered in her maw.
Now that she had committed herself to this degradation Rukia needed no more instruction, slowly she licked her head, he tasted stale and strong but not unlike the others she had had. Working her way down the shaft Rukia’s cleaver tongue caressed and massaged his throbbing organ eliciting a contented groan somewhere above her. Pulling back she worked her way down again, sucking and licking.
As his gruff moans increased she moved faster, bobbing up and down his cock like a bird devouring seeds.
“Ah, good, good; now deep throat it.” He ordered from on high. Here she paused; she had never done such a thing before. Sensing her indecision the man’s tone became harsher still
“Deep throat it you little bitch!” still she hesitated. Taking her head in both hands the guard forced it slowly down. The man’s cock, well greased with pre-cum and saliva, slid down her throat. It was long, but even so it was wide, and felt more so as it was forced down her slim and delicate throat. Gagging she tried to pull away, but he was having none of it, not stopping until six of his eight inches were buried in her mouth. Pulling up he allowed her a half breath of air before beginning again. Now though she knew what to expect, forcing her gag reflex aside she took him deeper without choking. When he pulled out again she did not wait for his rough hands on her silky hair to force her down onto him. Taking the initiative, she pressed forwards and let inch after slippery inch slide down until they were deeper than they had ever been before. Not pulling up all the way this time she began to bob once more, masturbating him with her throat and breathing through her nose.
Before long the grunts and moans resumed and drew closer together, grasping her head once more as she pleasured his he began to thrust into her mouth, thudding against the back of her throat until her gag reflex made a comeback. But he didn’t let up. Hammering faster his moans and grunt’s of building pressure came faster and louder until with a great sigh he pulled up into her mouth and unloaded a great mass of cum down her waiting oesophagus. Pulling out still further he grasped his quivering penis in one hand and began to pump it, keeping the cum flowing out and plastering her face, hair and shirt.
When he was finally spent he watched her swallow the mass he had put inside her,
“Open up,” he demanded. Silently she obeyed, opening her mouth once more. If put his softening cock in her waiting maw and said
“Clean it,” there was hardly much point arguing now, Rukia did as she was told lapping up what little cum still coated his cock.
When he was satisfied the guard took it out again and pulled up his trousers.
“Biddable little slut aren’t you?” he said. Not waiting for a reply he went back out into the shop leaving Rukia along in the store room once more, coated with his cum. licking her lips Rukia tried furiously to deny that she was any such thing, but even to herself the arguments seemed weak, she had liked it, and that was a hard thing to admit, but true.