Bounder Ch. 08

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Stultus
Stultus
1,402 Followers

To rake in every possible copper of profit, Thumbs and his roaring boys would burn half of the city to do so, and with utterly no regret. Normally, I'd have preferred to have kept the devil we knew, the existing crime boss, rather than unleashing this rabid menace, but a guild civil war did have certain potential positive benefits. The guild had become overly powerful and organized and it clearly was a significant threat to order and safety in the city. A little culling of the more aggressive and violent criminals from the herd, preferably at the hands of each other, might in fact be a good thing, weakening the power (and hopefully the ambition too) of the survivors.

"The king is dead, long live the king!" I muttered, slowly rising myself up from the opulent carpet that I had been kneeling upon. I would be safe from his fury, his sole one and only trusted friend from now on, but that didn't mean that I had to be proud of what I had just done. I could clip Thumb's wings a bit later on, and would almost certainly need to!

With a smile on his twisted malevolent face he gathered up the late crime lord's pistol and casually used it to shoot the next gentleman that came dashing into the room, a senior captain of the guild. Another pair of guards came quickly charging in and I shot them both out of necessity. Squashing the monster I had just created, early and in its infancy, might have been to everyone's benefit, at least in the short term, but the guild officers had loaded pistols and one of them was being pointed right at me! Thumbs used these unused weapons in turn to kill another lieutenant in the hallway just as I was starting to slowly make my escape, but it hurt my head too much to move with anything other than a slow walk.

Thumbs disappeared down the hallway to smite his foes and gather up his small but aggressive band of followers, and before I even quite managed to exit the downstairs restaurant a full force guild civil war with at least three different factions was already in progress. I'd like to say that I was rooting for my pawn, Thumbs, but in truth the man was far too brutal and crazed to make a good or wise leader of men. He could rule by fear, for awhile anyway, but eventually he'd get retired in the same way he took care of his predecessor. Guild wars are never pretty, and this one had every potential for being uglier and nastier than most. But during wars there is always opportunity. The guild was now significantly weakened and divided, and I rather hoped that they would remain that way for awhile.

On the way out, I'd taken the dead guildmaster's petty cash box from the table, which was unusually large and heavy, stuffed with gold solida. A fortune for most people, and indeed this amount of treasure would cover adequately all of my expenses and inconveniences of the last week. I'm sure there was a nicely stocked treasure room somewhere nearby but I declined to take the opportunity to search for it. There were too many very angry people already running through this building waving pistols and swords and eager to quickly avenge old slights and grievances, now that the old boss was dead. I muttered my sincere prayers and quietly, if not at all quickly, made my shuffling painful escape. I'd be worthless, virtually bedridden for the next few days until my gift recovered, but I'd seared closed one of the remaining wounds to my pride, and completed most, if not quite yet all of my revenge, and nearly completed Danelle's justice.

As for Sir John Golding? I would be paying him a visit next... in a week or perhaps less, after a great deal of rest and mental recovery. If I failedthatmission like I nearly had this one, even a thrall or two gripped in my mental powers wouldn't be enough to save me!

I was certain that someone, extraordinarily hidden amongst the normal chaos of the streets was still following me, but I was too tired to set any traps for my tail so I just went straight to my home. Under the cover of darkness late that night I took an oblique route back to my secret warehouse and to the best of my knowledge, my secret watcher was gone.

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

After a few more days of rest, and a lot more contemplation concerning the final deposition of the young witch, I'd contacted Mumford again discretely, and the pair of us holed up for a long evening of plotting back at the widow's boarding house, where we were again quite entirely alone and protected. I needed one of his shady contacts to obtain for me a forged pass allowing me to get inside of the Ormscraig gates, and a menial's uniform that might allow me free passage throughout the great castle. I just needed to get inside without any particular notice or attention made of me, but once there I was pretty sure that I could handle myself. Mumford delivered, as always, and the next night was presenting my forged writ to the pair of gate guards, that accepted my document at face value with hardly a glance and allowed me entrance into the castle.

My hidden tail had returned about half way up Royal Avenue reroute to the castle but I just pretended not to notice and kept in character.

Once inside that early evening, I quite blended in with the other household staff and I had no difficulties at all pretending to be a messenger with a message for Sir John Golding. A helpful maid even directed me to his quarters on the northeastern wing of the castle, up on the third floor. Another helpful passing servant even directed right to his very chambers door before leaving me grateful and quite alone now in the dimly lit corridor. I'd quickly faded the brief memory of my presence here in the footservants memory, but this was easy work as the lad was a bit dim of will and the effort upon my gift was very slight. I'd already made it here quicker and far easier than I'd ever hoped, with the vast majority of my gift's power now available for use upon my intended target, and not wasted upon minions!

Mumford had long ago taught me the skills of lockpicking and the chambers door was quickly, quietly and slowly opened so that I could hopefully surprise my quarry inside. My will was sharp and ready for instant use, but it quite necessary. Except for a young bumboy, napping under the sheets in the bedroom, I was alone. Sir John was not present, at least not yet.

A more careful examination of the face of the officer's young sexual partner proved to be highly amusing, nearly being me to raucous laughter and tears, but I restrained myself... temporarily. I'd found the young whoreson who had betrayed us to the Blackguards! Obviously the old guildmaster had done nothing to punish the lad, and it appeared that the youth currently enjoyed some considerable favor with his new boss. Or else the young bastard had an especially buggerable arse, which actually seemed more likely.

Catching the lad while asleep made the exertion of my gift somewhat easier, and within minutes I had the lad as deeply under my control as I could wish. No, I had no interest at all in sodomy! However, now learning that Sir John was expected to be away from his quarters until very late tonight on black-cloak business, and possibly not even returning here tonight at all, this did suggest an extremely suitable method of exacting the final stages of my revenge.

I gave the lad his instructions and I made sure before I left that the commands were firmly implanted and would be acted upon. Following sex the next time it occurred in this bedroom, the lad was to take up a knife and kill Sir John once he was fast asleep afterwards. He was to stab the officer repeatedly without ceasing until he was certain that the officer was dead in a fit of uncontrollable rage. This would be done in 'revenge' for certain painful abuses and indignities that the lad had received, serving the degenerate officer. These abuses were entirely fantasy, created into his mind but would be kept repressed, until the moment for action occurred.

The lad would then yell and shout, relieving his anger until such a time as guards or other servants arrived to discover the murder. Sir John's death would appear to be simple revenge by his less than obedient bumboy, and the traitorous kid would have his neck strung up upon a gibbet before the next sunset. A tidy and complete solution to every remaining problem!

I boldly walked right back out of the castle without challenge and was safely down the hill and back at my dockside abandoned warehouse within an hour. I was certain that I had again been followed, but at the moment I didn't care. I was now felt relieved that the entire ordeal was now over, except that I still needed to dispose of the troublesome young witch, one way or another the next morning.

Then... the last of Danelle's revenge would be complete.

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

For obvious reasons, no word about Sir John's murder was ever announced to the public. Inspecting the ripe crop of fresh gallows fruit a few days later, I did recognize the whoreson's face with his bloated purple tongue sticking out while his corpse hung from the hangman's rope out on public display with the other usual executed felons at the executioner's square, just outside the gates of the Ormscraig. This was a great relief to me!

As the naked dangling corpse bore no signs of interrogation or torture, this strongly suggested to me that my plan had worked to perfection. The motive for the murder was seen to be personal, a lover's tiff at the hands of his young favorite rent-boy. If the lad had been caught in the act and prevented from making his kill, some measure of conspiracy might have been suspected, but that unhappy event apparently had not occurred. Sir John, and the traitorous whoreson, both were now dead, and my revenge was nearly entirely complete now... but I still needed to at last permanently dispose of Danelle's murderer!

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

I could never boast of be proud of what I had done to Edwina, but I had to admit afterwards that I taken my gift as close to that internal edge of darkness as I could bear to go, and then turned my back upon the abyss, forever.

My original intention had been to create a mindless nymphomaniac strumpet eager to be abused and dominated by every possible means, but then again no other woman had so horrified me with her evilness and deliberate joy of murder. I'd created the ultimate fantasy pet, a slut that yearned for debasement and abuse, but I felt no pleasure at this achievement. Further, even with her gift suppressed and buried, it still might breed true (along with her innate wickedness) to her children! That was unacceptable!

In every way, as I discovered as my will eventually overpowered hers, breaking it and remolding it to my will, that she quite entirely as evil as her grandmother, the old crone of a witch, and responsible formanymore murders than Danelle and Rochelle's. She admitted with pride to six more, mostly strangers and travelers taken on the roads at night and tortured for her amusement. Her brothers had indulged their fondness for rape, but their hearts didn't lust for blood and murder the way hers did!

I admit that the horrors of her black soul helped to steel my resolve. For awhile I had decided to be relatively merciful, to just make a common street whore and beggar out of her, to insanely cackle madness in the streets and root in the gutters for garbage to eat. I just couldn't bring myself to cleanly cut that evil throat and be done with her! I had no desire whatsoever to keep her as a pet for my amusement, not did I take any pleasures with her. Even touching her skin repulsed me and she could not in any way sate the different sort of sexual needs that I felt now.

She was too dangerous, both in mind and womb to allow out of my sight, but the thought of keeping her as a pet, to lovingly torture and abuse held no interest or satisfaction for me now either. She really just deserved to have her throat slit and be left for the swamp lizards, but by then I'd almost gone too far with her, crafting her into something that she could now never be. I'd made her into a mindless thrall now, with hardly an intelligent thought of her own left now, and entirely no free will left at all. The evil witch Edwina was still there, but suppressed, buried deep inside of her, and for forever (I hoped).

I couldn't keep her, nor did I want to. Briefly I considered packing her off to a slaver I knew for shipment back to Mirabelle for future service at a very exotic whorehouse that catered to some of the harsher and more exotic sexual appetites. I used to be a regular there. Now, even with her mind neutered and possessing only thoughts of abjectly serving men, I was having more second and third thoughts about this. The punishment was more than suitable to fit her crimes, but it just didn't seem right to me. Again, even under mental conditioning to avoid pregnancy, the risk of her creating another vile Weir offspring, perhaps another future witch, was far too risky.

Before I'd broke the last of her will, she had been unable to speak anything other the truth to me. Of her murders and other crimes, and of the unspeakably evil ceremonies and rituals the old witch and her young granddaughter had performed in secret, often involving human sacrifice to their dark evil gods. Rochelle had been intended for such a fate, and a virgin her ritual murder would have given her great powers, perhaps even releasing much more of her own magical willpower. Instead her brothers had soiled her first, raping her and then nearly allowing her to escape. Edwina had then run her down in the carriage, but inadvertently. A kinder fate I suppose than having her still beating heart and womb cut from her living flesh for sacrifice to some dark god and for her blood to be drunk and bathed in by the two insane witches.

I had often in the past fantasized about converting a mortal enemy into a pleasure slave and then abusing it gleefully thereafter for the sheer joy of it! But that was the exact same sort of shit that the old witch had enjoyed, back in her prime and I'd decided now that I wanted to benothingat all like her! No, our souls were nothing of a kind, and never would be!

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

Since I could not enjoy my master-creation, or ever trust it out of my sight, or even rid myself of the evil young witch by simply cutting her throat, I resolved to do the next best thing. With an obedient Pet-Edwina giggling and jiggling by my side, I pretended to be a traveling entertainer (or at least the pimp for the obvious entertainment), and the two of us exited the west gate of the city early the next morning. This once, I didn't really need any cover of darkness to dispose of this one last piece of lingering garbage. Once again I felt that I was being watched, but no matter how hard I looked I still could not spot my tail, even in the wide open outdoors.

Reaching the area where Koch, Flerrie and I had endured our unfortunate detour a bit too close to the swamp, I had surprisingly little difficulty once again finding that same boggy border zone where we'd been attacked by the great lizard. From the sounds of bellowing and splashing in the not too distant swamp itself, I could hear that this one-eyed menace or one of its relatives crashing about close at hand. For Edwina, this was a suitable final destination.

"Slut, I want you to listen to my voice and do exactly as I tell you. There are lots of nice friends waiting for you just beyond those rushes and I want you to wade out there and even swim to them if necessary. Strip naked now and swim out to your waiting friends! I'll even give you this sword so that you can cut your way there, if the reeds become too thick. Once you feel your feet starting to get wet, I want you think hard! Inside your head there is an old friend, Edwina, and I want you to remember her and even listen to her. I've told you before that you were not to ever listen to that voice, but now you can... and I want you to. Master commands it! The more wet you get, the more I want you to remember Edwina. I want you to listen to everything she tells you but you will still only obey me! Right over there seems like a little dry island just inside the swamp and I know that you'll find lots of nice hard cocks there for you to fuck, so take this sword and see how quickly you can get there!"

Even for me, this was fairly cruel, but entirely necessary. Edwina needed to die for all of her numerous crimes but I didn't overtly want to be the one to shed her blood. She really never should have been taken alive as a prisoner in the first place! I didn't want to dirty myself any further with her existence! I also wanted this addled slut to realize what was happening and why. No, as Edwina's memories returned she would understand everything that was happening, but could do nothing to prevent her near guaranteed fate. By also giving her an old broadsword I was giving her something of a slight fighting chance to even survive, at least enough so for my conscience not to declare her certain death a murder, but neat justice and Danelle's and Rochelle's final revenge instead.

Being a good obedient slut, Edwina trotted right off towards the swamp and soon was splashing ankle and then knee deep in the marsh. As she started to shuffle and even swim towards that small island, I could see the changes in her face and attitude. Edwina, still my thrall, was having her memories restored and now was possessed with obvious alarm at her situation, but still my geas upon her will still forced her onwards.

She almost even made it to that small marshy island before a pair of great lizard jaws bit deeply into her legs and then pulled her underwater to her doom. Splashing with frantic fury and using her meager weapon in defiance, she regained the surface of the swamp once, but briefly, until the jaws that still held her mangled legs still fast pulled her underwater once more. The surface of the bloodied water boiled with frenzied activity but within a few minutes everything became still and quiet once more.

Having witnessed everything that I needed to, to ensure my peace of mind that the young witch would never again harm another victim, I turned away and returned back to the road, and in increasing speed of movement.

I didn't look back.

I could feel the presence of my hidden watcher, but I didn't bother to look for him or her either! They were undoubtedly protected and hidden by some magic, probably under official or imperial orders too. Perhaps Sir Adrian's secret Spymaster or a master assassin still in the control of the Lord Coroner? Today I didn't care, and I let my tail follow me back all the way home.

Stultus
Stultus
1,402 Followers
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  • COMMENTS
2 Comments
bruce22bruce22over 11 years ago
This Bounder is entertaining

But He never seems to foresee the results of his meddling and he is very lucky. I wonder if he is going to finally get lucky in love....

tazz317tazz317over 11 years ago
GETTING RID OF THE GARBAGE IS DIFFICULT

when one doesnt know if whats good and whats not. TK U MLJ LV NV

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Bounder Ch. 07 Previous Part
Bounder Series Info

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