Bounder Ch. 01

Collar ruffs were becoming increasingly fashionable (and oversized) too, but that was one trend that I was trying to resist!

For her own part, the Princess Imperial set her own trends for female fashion wearing bodices that displayed an alarming amount of her adequately sized breasts, up to and including revealing entirely her rouged nipples to full public display. That trend hadn't quite caught on with the nobility up here in the remote provinces, but necklines were plunging and skirt hems were rising. The Dowager Empress had never allowed even her ankles to be displayed in court, but already it was rumored that bare knees would be en vogue this summer and clergymen everywhere were already outraged! While the church wasn't technically anti-sex, it did possess a rather vigorous sense of its role in enforcing morality and the existing imperial sumptuary laws... and with about an equal lack of overall success.

With my hose pulled down to my knees and my penis engulfed in the young woman's mouth, I began to remove my boots so that I could peel off the hose so that I could better enjoy myself. It had been awhile since I had partaken of this sort of delicious fun and I was able to ejaculate rather swiftly into her warm tight mouth. The thrill of keeping a victim in thrall to my will has always been extremely stimulating for me and I had little difficulty keeping my erection so that I could bend my young guest down face first across my desk and I lifted up her skirts so that I could now enter her.

She tight but no virgin and her vaginal entrance smoothly accommodated my complete entrance into the depths of her private sex as I abruptly took her. Technically this was rape of course, but the fantasy I had built into her mind would tell her that she had instigated this assignation of her own will and had given herself freely to me. Her body was finding my thrusts inside of her pleasurable and I could use this growing lust to bind her to me more fully, should I desire her for a long-term plaything. Or, should she prove to be either inconvenient or troublesome, I could just as easily alter or erase these memories entirely from her mind instead, instructing her to forget our encounter had ever occurred.

My victim, I still had not gotten her name (nor did I much care) only groaned with louder pleasure when I removed my rigid member from her moist dripping snatch to bury it now fully with forceful determination now inside of her slender ass. Her asshole was considerably stretched by this unexpected and significant intrusion but I quieted any thoughts of alarm or discomfort within in her mind.

"You love my cock inside of your ass and you want me to fuck it harder, and as deeply as possible!" I suggested as I grasped her left breast hard in one hand and pulled back her long hair sharply and I rammed myself forcefully into her and soon her moans became ones of pleasure.

"Yessss..." she hissed in ecstatic delight, even pushing herself harder onto my cock as it rammed harder and deeper into her backside until I soon exploded once more inside of her.

Taking a short rest in my own comfortable desk chair, I instructed my new pet to completely undress and then to kneel in front of me to give my cock and balls some proper and extensive worship with her mouth and tongue. The hard wooden floors of my office had been polished by several sets of knees since my arrival here, but her oral talents were notable, better than most and I observed with approval that her hair coloring quite matched the wood. Other than a slight aptitude for sucking cock, her erotic skills were not exceptional but she appeared to be rather trainable, and I certainly had the spare time at the moment. With proper indoctrination, she would make a superb slut-pet, always eager to fuck and be fucked with little or no free will remaining of her own. Perhaps she might also be trained to yearn for the whip, to desire pain as sexual pleasure?

So many delightful options... but this was the exact sort of unrestrained extravagance that almost got me into trouble back in the capitol more than once. There were countless women that could be easily taken from the streets that few people would miss, but this was rarely true for the pretty young ones or ladies of good family. Besides, when any women can become my abject sex slave the attraction for me wanes after just a few weeks. After a month or more of serving my every sadistic whim, it is also difficult to put my victims mental pieces back together again, to restore her mind and will as they were before... but without any inconvenient memories of her alleged abuse. There are other more permanent methods of removing an unwanted plaything that I'm bored with, but that sort of treatment is wasteful and I do hate waste.

Before I took this little creature home and discovered how well her pale milky skin took to a whip, it would be best to find out more about her. Who her family was and when or if she would be missed if she just 'disappeared'. I'd cum twice already and while I was good for at least one more bout of sport, I could now think reasonably clearly and logically with my urges now somewhat restrained. A man who cannot restrain his urges, no matter how pleasant they might be, is little more than an animal and will likely meet an animal's fate. I was still learning this lesson.

My decision to seize upon this young lady today had been rather overly impulsive, and perhaps unwise. I usually had more restraint. Undoubtedly it would be prudent to take a fuller measure of this woman, and discover her original reason for bothering me, before any irreversible tampering with her mind started to occur.

"Pet, I want you to stop sucking my delicious cock, just for now, and sit back on your heels and relax and close your eyes. I want you to listen to me and answer each of my questions carefully, and you will always tell me the truth and not the answer that you think will most please me. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir." She calmly stated. I got up and stood behind her so that I could better caress her head. With a hand or better yet two upon her head I could sense her thoughts clearly and more easily discover any attempt at evasiveness or falsehood. Also now in this position I could better condition her mind to either place her in deeper permanent mental bondage or else more easily clear her recent memories if I needed to release her unspoiled.

She told me that her name was Danelle and that her parents ran a small but fashionable dress shop on Glitter Alley, near Silk Street just off of Royal Avenue. She had no current lover or firm matrimonial plans but she thought her parents were attempting to arrange a marriage with a local lad on Weaver's Row. She was only nineteen, but her hand-work was already good enough for master's certification from the Embroiderers Guild. She was popular in her neighborhood of fellow craftsmen, and already renowned enough to have several regular wealthy clients of her own.

Alas, she was clearly a woman of some means and public visibility whose absence would be quickly noted and with some alarm. Furthermore, she had been advised by one of her customers to visit me for my help and had solicited several other opinions from her family and other clients about the wisdom of such a visit to consult with me. If this toothsome creature vanished, or at least anytime soon, I would be certain to be questioned and that was an unacceptable risk to take just for dalliance. She would have made a good pet, but not an exceptional one worthy of such a risk taking. Alas, it appeared that our trifling together today would only be a singular occurrence.

I would need to gently remove most of my hold over her mind and somewhat modify her memories of this afternoon, but this could be easily done. My grasp upon her will was complete but yet still a light one and no permanent mental disability would be likely to occur. The effort would tire me, but not excessively so... and it was necessary.

As for her job for me, her purpose of coming, this was to obtain justice for the death of her older sister whose naked body had been pulled out of the river late last fall. Even more popular than Danelle, Rochelle had been a flower of their community and she had successfully made a love-match with a local wealthy dairy farmer just to the southeast of the city, near the marshes. Suicide seemed highly unlikely but no murder could be proven either and even after some personal attention was paid to the case by the governor himself, the mysterious death was pretty much filed away unsolved and forgotten about. Except by Danelle. She had come to offer me her entire savings, which was a moderate amount of silver (by crafter standards anyway) to consult with me, but still a rather inadequate fee by my usual standards and I had little interest in taking any charity cases.

The last thing I wanted was for word to get out onto the street that I could be hired on the cheap, out of boredom, or worse... sentiment! Saying 'no' and refusing most potential paying clients just increased my allure and the demand for my services by the elite (or at least those with heavy purses).

Anyway, I don't normally conduct hands-on investigations myself. There are informers aplenty down by the docks that will do that sort of work and for coppers. Her slight purse of coins was far less than sufficient to arouse in me even the slightest bit of curiosity in taking on this mundane assignment that ought to be best handled by the city vigiles.

I laughed heartily at the very thought of a d'Bounderby actually being lowered to muck about in the street to discover who might or might not have killed a mundane shop girl! This was not the sort of clientele (or fees) that I was attracting these days!

You might think it hard of me that having decided to ignore her pleas for justice, that I then kept her in thrall for another two full hours. I made her suck me hard once more while on her knees, and then I fucked her again in each of her other orifices, spewing forth my seed one final time into her womb. I had no idea if she was currently fertile or not, but that was a matter of no importance to me in any case. The idea that she might soon be carrying my brat was an arousing one that gave me great mirth as she sucked me again with fervor until I began to grow tired of our sport.

I then gently readjusted her memories of the afternoon to remove any and all memories or recollections of our sexual coupling, and with a comforting pat on her ass I sent her back alone into the growing gloom of early evening, and without me as her hired consultant.

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No, I didn't have the least amount of regret at all for using and then abandoning her without helping her. My only real regret was that I couldn't have kept her as a fucktoy until I either got bored of sporting with her or she became with child. I had done this countless times previously and had never lost even a moment of sleep over the deed later. Women were just sluts - pets to be used and enjoyed for my amusement, but this time it was different...

This time, about ten minutes later I walked down the single flight of stairs to the street and said good night to the receptionist of our chambers and my thoughts were now entirely focused upon what sort of fine dinner I should obtain for myself this evening. I normally dined out on Friday evenings and my cook would have the day off in any case. I'd already forgotten entirely about Danelle until I stepped out onto the wooden walkway outside of my chambers and saw the crowd gathering in the middle of the street in front of my building. Someone had been struck by a carriage, a man standing next to me stated and I would have just kept walking, unconcerned, except that for a moment the crowd in the street parted for a moment to allow our local vigiles street watchman to examine the victim of the accident, and then at once I recognized Danelle's battered body, now being pronounced as dead.

This shock froze me in my tracks and I found that I could not look away, and I began to push my way through the crowd to get a better look and to hear what the witnesses were telling the vigiles watchman. It was indeed Danelle, there was no mistake about that. She had apparently been run over in the middle of the street by a carriage, a small black hack drawn by two all black horses. The two witnesses of the actual accident agreed that the driver had not only not slowed down to avoid striking her, but he had in fact been at a full gallop, giving the horses the whip for more speed even as he rode her down, according to a few witnesses who had seen the actual accident itself.

The client I had refused to help was now dead, just moments after leaving my office and I couldn't believe even for a moment that this was either coincidental or accidental.

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Well-dressed in my yellow hose, sleeveless quilted silk jacket and doublet, complete with a fine black cape and silver tipped cane for my usual evening revels, I was obviously a person of either substance or importance and I had little difficulty extracting complete statements from each of the witnesses of the accident. Unfortunately, no one had really noticed anything before the woman's initial shriek, just as the two black horses trod over her and the right carriage wheel rode over her still screaming body, silencing her forever. The small black cab had not stopped or even slowed down in any way and continued at a gallop down Silver Avenue towards the river for at least one block and then turned east down Sword Street. From there onwards the cab slowed its pace to normal and became indistinguishable from the rest of the street traffic and undoubtedly merged with the usual busy evening traffic on either Royal or Gold Avenues, unnoticed.

I questioned everyone I could find along both Silver Avenue and Sword Street as well for several blocks but no one had any further memories of the cab or its determined driver, not that the descriptions of the killer were of much usefulness. Few observers had marked him at all before the killing, and those who saw him gallop away merely noted an unexceptional figure that was wrapped in a dark colored cloak and had a dark cloth cap over much of his face so that no features were notable. Luckily, one unusually observant witness (who's memory was somewhat assisted by my gift) was certain that she had seen the hack parked down by the corner prior to the incident, apparently waiting for someone. She had been inside another factorage chambers next door to mine when the accident had occurred but she had been near the doorway when she heard the scream and came outside quickly enough to see the cab gallop away and turn down at the corner and she felt certain that it was the exact same one that had been parked nearby earlier.

I risked scanning her mind deeper for just a few moments and her surface memories seemed to match her story with some accuracy. This also gave me now a slightly clear mental image of the hack, and of the hunched cloaked driver at the rear whipping his horses to their utmost as he made his escape, but unfortunately without any precise details that would aid in his identification or capture.

A determined canvas of the remaining original witnesses revealed few if any other additional details. Some thought him to be a small sized man, but others considered him to be of at least normal stature instead. No two witnesses could agree on any other facts about the accident and I started to become extremely frustrated.

Given time and the authority to do so, I'd have grabbed the lot of them and examined each of their minds in private, and in excruciatingly precise detail, excavating every nugget of their memory. Unfortunately, already I was attracting too much attention, enough so that the local vigile of the watch, an old imperial veteran by the name of Wergan had marked my unusual interest in the accident and was currently intently following my questioning of the street witnesses and taking notes. I'd also used my gift heavily to carefully readjust Danelle's mind, which had been an exhausting mental process, leaving me with quite a sharp headache in both mind and body.

By now the coroner's cart had arrived and Wergan assisted the pair of lads in collecting Danelle's body. Like all unusual or unnatural deaths, it would be taken to Ormscraig, the great fortress on top of the hill to the south of the city where the imperial Lord Coroner would undoubtedly briefly examine the body and declare an immediate verdict of accidental death.

I was certain that this was a murder... but I was much less sure why I now suddenly cared!

Danelle had just been one of my pets, a slut of no importance that I'd temporarily amused myself with. She'd been a momentary dalliance rather than one of my usual occasional sex slaves so my emotional attachment ought to have been minimal. I'd possessed her, taken her will and then her body, to do with as I pleased with no care or concern whatsoever for her own feelings. They were unimportant. I had the gift, the power to compel her mind and I did so, with no regrets other than that I couldn't keep her for further nastier pleasures in the future!

Now... I was feeling regret, and I couldn't understand why. I was learning with maturity to restrain (somewhat) my urges and impulses, but now I felt anger and worse... rancor at this unknown killer who had intentionally ridden down my pet in the street, as if she were nothing but a stray mongrel.

I couldn't say that I treated any of my prior pets with anything resembling kindness or even consideration, but I had never disposed of them once I was bored of playing with them as one would garbage! Those that I had altered beyond repair I found alternative uses for, usually in some private brothel or as a sex slave for a private master in another city or town. The thought that something that had been mine had now been so deliberately destroyed filled me with increasing bitterness and animosity.

No, I had not accepted Danelle's pleas to find the killer of her sister. Her words had been nothing but empty noise to me, but now she was murdered too, perhaps by the same man or his agents. This thought galled me. This murder could not have been a coincidence!

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With nothing left to learn here, I walked with haste up the hill on Silver for two blocks until I reached a favorite local drinking house, The Silver Fox, and I took up a booth in the corner for much of the next two hours. I drank my fill of good wine with increasing need, but with little or no effect upon my still tormented and racing mind. The always fine quality vintages did not offer me their usual comfort, at least not at first.

There was no helping it. I was now involved, and without a client... and worse still, without a fee! She had probably been followed to my office chamber by her killer, who had then waited for me. He had stalked her and then had run her down at the first opportunity.

Good wine, in moderation, can bring the imbiber some wisdom, and tonight it helped to bring me some slight clarity. My sense of panic slowly diminished and I could begin to focus my mind upon my thoughts, to sort them in the hopes of exacting some sort of exact meaning of the evening's disturbing events, but true enlightenment evaded me. There are certain herbs and potions I sometimes indulge in, suitable for calming the nerves, increasing alertness and/or improving ones mental perceptions, some of which could be easily obtained from the host from under the bar counter, but I needed to keep my wits both sharp and quick... but operating at a slower and more deliberate pace. I kept my indulgence to just more good wine and allowed my mind to ponder with some gradual increasing clarity.