Deviant Mage Pt. 03 - Lower Lanovul

She darted down a side-street and into darkness, hopped a wall, and then hopped a few more, darted across some deserted streets, until eventually there was no one around. And then she breathed a sigh of relief.

Holy shit, she'd actually cummed from that. She actually could, she just needed to let go of her anxiety first, and the witch-hemp was her ticket to doing that. That was awesome!

She just barely entertained the possibility of calling it a Long Night with that. But the Long Night was still dark, and surely only the complete deranged idiot she wanted them all to thinks she was would keep going after what was seemingly a close call. Plus, despite all the orgasms she'd had, she wasn't about to say no to a bunch more. Though, by the barest of technicalities she could be considered a virgin, she truly had become an insatiable shit-slut.

A new idea burned like a torch in her brain and she'd rejected and abandoned the very idea of restraint, so of course she had to try it. She gathered up some more crap and returned to behind that inn to get a sack full of compost, and then went into the nearby denser, poorer part of Lower. She found a relatively busy road, dumped her sack of compost onto the road and started to pleasure herself (loudly) in the darkness, until people with lanterns came upon her performance, and she stayed right where she was upon them discovering her.

An audience of about twenty plainly-dressed people watched agog as she ran her hands sensually over her bare, mucky features. Once again, she dumped filth upon her body and played with it, and compost was a nice addition to her performance. She made a game of grabbing different items out from the pile of waste and watching the reactions of her audience as she smeared various rotten items onto herself along with the shit, and all the while she fingered her disgusting cunt and asshole with the filthiest possible hands. Not a single one of them looked to approve of what she was doing, but none of them seemed willing to look away.

There was something even better that she intended to do. She spread herself, pulled a whole intact turd (one that was actually solid enough that it barely needed any supernatural help to stay together) out from the shit-pot and plunged it into her cunt. She moaned as the people around her made their own noises, mostly of disgust.

And then she turned around, bent over, and presented her ass to the crowd she'd gathered. She spread her filthy cheeks wide with her filthier fingers, relaxed her anus, and suggestively wiggled.

"Pussy's full, but my ass is all yours if you want it, boys!" she called over her shoulder as she furiously diddled her mucky clit and clenched on the ultra-solid log inside her, and she squirted again at the idea that this could actually be her first time with a man. If any of them were interested. Would any of them be interested? If anyone actually was interested, would he be willing to demonstrate that before an audience? Because, if somehow the answer to all that was yes, then she'd do it, alright!

A guy emerged from the crowd, but his expression and body language made it pretty damn apparent that he wasn't interested in ramming his cock into her, and on the off-chance she was misreading him, he was still was exactly the sort of ugly old fuck she'd abandoned her old life specifically to avoid having to screw. Dammit.

She bolted straight up the building in front of her without any warning, climbing the side like a cockroach (the gloom and flickering lantern light meant that they couldn't tell she was assisting her climb by sticking to the walls, but that hadn't consciously occurred to her). Below, she heard some angry shouting. "I said 'boys!', not withered old husks!" she shouted down at them. Someone guffawed, and that old fart shouted something at her that she ignored.

Feet dangling over the gutter, she spread her legs wide, pushed the filthy dildo out of of her until she could grip it with her fingers (she did actually need to solidify it to make this work) and started to thrust it in and out of her. She orgasmed again, to the fantasy of having the dirtiest possible gang-bang in the middle of the road, and she moaned her loudest moan, squirting down on her audience. Said audience now happened to include that Lanoman from before, who was shouting something at her. She flipped him off, and then climbed up the roof and out of sight.

(Though Stench didn't know it, the lookout girl from earlier had been part of the crowd that had been ogling her performance. She had watched from the shadows, aghast yet transfixed, with a lady-boner that wouldn't go away.)

Another idea came to Stench that she saw no reason not to try, one that (for once) was neither dirty nor lewd, but did sound like it would be fun, and like it would be a good way to lose that damn Lanoman again. She attempted to jump from one rooftop to the next, like a hero in one of the adventure novels she'd read.

The first couple attempts she made at doing this went okay, the roofs here were all pretty close together here and their slopes weren't too steep. The third time, her hands slipped on snowy shingles that were particularly slimy with moss and algae under the snow, she couldn't get purchase even with magic crap, and she slid down the roof on her front and fell off the edge, only barely able to catch herself at the gutter.

The street below her was unlit, but there was enough light from peoples' windows that she was quite visible as she dangled precariously, and of course the street below was trafficked. Several people pointed up at her. A couple of them laughed.

"Oh, yeah. Real funny!" Stench shouted over her shoulder, and then dropped down two storeys from where she'd been dangling. She knew the best way to land from something this high was to roll when she hit the ground, but she was only vaguely familiar with how to do that, and didn't trust herself to try it from this high up without practice. So instead she landed with bent knees on the slushy street, and, as she landed, she hardened the filth covering her legs, and it became somewhere between really bad leather and half-rotten wood. This supernaturally enhanced shit ripped apart under the force of her landing, but in ripping, it took some of the strain off her legs. A fall that would have risked injury to a normal person didn't hurt her one bit.

But she'd never actually used this trick before outside of practice, her balance hadn't been quite centered and the paving stones under her were slippery, so instead of looking badass as she landed, her feet went out from under her and she landed heavily on her naked butt with a squawk of surprise, her dignity (such as it was) gone in an instant. People continued to laugh at her as she got up calmly (why yes, there was a brown butt-print in the snow now. So fucking comical), the flush of embarrassment on her face hidden by the filth. She didn't consider performing the most perverted sex acts she could think of before a crowd of strangers to be embarrassing whatsoever, but she raged at having just been seen fucking up!

She tried to put her pratfall out of mind. She started walking towards the loudest laughter, and decided that it had been pretty funny, so she might as well join in on the laughter. It was a fake laugh, which sounded way more deranged than her real one. A cackling naked girl, caked in brown excrement that was scattered with with colourful moldy lumps, advancing upon someone in the dim street light, was probably quite the sight. People's laughter grew nervous as she drew nearer. The crowd edged away from the cackling lunatic, and only after she'd passed did a few of them notice that she'd had her dagger hidden on the inside of her forearm the whole time. Stench could tell who, because of who had gone abruptly silent.

From the darkness, Stench laughed especially loudly, and was surprised to find it was genuine. Something about the absurdity of this situation just tickled her. Once again, she was pretty sure the witch-hemp was responsible, but she wasn't complaining!

It didn't feel like she was just pretending to be out of her mind, at this point. The witch-hemp she'd smoked had led her to gleefully toss aside the tattered remains of her sanity, with the general hope that she'd pick up the pieces later. And she liked that!

And she didn't want the last thing people witnessed her doing in Lower to be a pratfall! She wanted to end her Long Night of filthy misadventure with something truly magnificent! Already, she had an idea of something she could try before the entire Lower Lanovul market square, and-

Around a corner, a group of somewhere around a dozen people emerged, and that stupid persistent Lanoman was leading them. He had a bullseye lantern, though it wasn't pointed at her. Or at least, not until someone from the crowd she'd just spooked shouted "Officer, she's here!" and his lantern pointed right at her face.

Right. There was that.

***

Stench smiled and waved at the small mob. They actually had torches (mostly candle lanterns though) and a lot of them were brandishing various implements, at least two pitchforks being among such implements. This felt like an accomplishment!

She turned on her heel and ran. She didn't have a huge head-start, but it was enough that she wasn't in any danger of being captured, yet. She dodged her way through crowds of astonished people, carts and the occasional vendor wagon, a trail of stinking haze in her wake, cackling like she considered this a delightful game. One of her pursuers kept bellowing words to the effect of: "She's here! Stench is here! Get that freak!" at top volume. She supposed that she was gratified to hear her new name echoing through town.

Okay, she knew more or less how she was going to lose these oafs, but she'd have to use her powers, and so she would have to make sure no one could see what she was doing. She ducked down a dark side-street. The trouble was, these streets were clean enough that shit-sense wasn't much use- she could see the ground under her with germ-sense, but nothing more distant. She actually had to make use of the very lights her pursuers were shining her way in order to see where she was going. This did not do any favours to her speed. However, she was headed back towards the filthy streets where she'd found her new name, the part of Lower where her powers would be most useful. She just had to stay ahead of these oafs for long enough-

She saw movement with her germ-sense and gave a glance over her shoulder. There was a guy (who was way less dirty than most Lanofolk. She formed a negative opinion of him the moment she saw him) barely an arm's reach away from her and gaining. One of those types who actually ran a lot, she guessed. She slashed at him half-blindly with her dagger; he howled in surprise and pain and then drew back. He was unarmed, and he had now realized that he needed support if he was to take her on. The rest of the mob was about twenty paces back. That was about two-thirds the distance they'd had when this chase started.

But then the streets underfoot started to grow properly mucky. Stench's steps grew more confident, since she could actually more-or-less see where she was going. The growing mob behind her started to squelch in the muck, and she made the filth under their feet as sticky as she could make it. Old and rotten as most of the crap was, the properties she could supernaturally command it to have didn't come to much, and it accomplished little. But 'little' was enough that the mob got slowed down just a bit. Meanwhile, she could easily track the mob's location.

After making several random turns and darting through a couple alleyways (one of which was the very one in which she'd bought her witch-hemp. No trace of that now), she was finally able to give the mob the slip, and the moment she was sure nobody was watching, she scrambled up the wall of a dilapidated house (her filthy hand-prints would hopefully be difficult to see against the weathered wood) and got onto its ill-repaired roof. And there she stayed, back pressed against the chimney, trying to pant for breath as softly as possible, while the mob, slowly and reluctantly, came to the conclusion that it had lost her.

Nobody seemed terribly happy to have come to that realization, and she heard the commotion of the mob descending on several innocent bystanders in their enthusiasm to hunt her down. They eventually dispersed, likely figuring she was hiding somewhere nearby, and started to search. It was probably only a matter of time before they saw the shitty hand-prints- she'd dispersed them with coprokinesis, but some residue remained.

Stench had another crazy idea. She wasn't even sure if it was a good one, but she was going to try it. The old noxious muck on the streets responded sluggishly to her coprokinesis, but it nevertheless could be molded and moved. She imagined a large section of muck piling up, and then forming a human shape. The shape of her naked body. Filthy as she was, it ought to look just like her.

The moment she tried to give the roughly-humanoid mound of crap arms, they broke off under their own weight. When she gave the mass individual legs, they did actually support it, right up until she tried making the shit-statue take a step, at which point the whole thing toppled over. She could, however, make a shit-statue with a rather rigid pose that glided unmoving upon the mucky ground. It looked stiff and unnatural. In darkness, from a distance, partially obscured, maybe that was enough.

She was still keeping track of the mob as they scattered in search of her. She let her experimental shit-statue collapse, had the muck disperse onto the street like it was never there, and then formed the same thing just around a corner from one of the larger groups. Once it was formed, she had it peek out from around the corner, then pull back. The mob didn't react- they hadn't noticed. Real observant searchers, they were. She tried again, having it linger for a little longer before sliding away.

She heard a shout, she saw the disturbed muck on the streets that marked the mob starting to rush towards her decoy. Once again, she had the shit-statue collapse and disperse. She heard more shouting, and other search parties started to run that way too. Within half a minute, they'd all run off, chasing a ghost.

(Unbenounced to Stench, there had been several shady individuals who had been covertly observing the commotion she had brought to their turf. One of them, who happened to be one of the customers from the earlier witch-hemp deal, saw Stench's shit-statue rise from the muck. Saw it act as a decoy to draw the mob's attention, and saw it collapse and disperse. As soon as the mob ran off, he hurried away to tell his superiors exactly what he had just seen.)

Stench breathed a sigh of relief. Okay. That had worked. Quite well, even! Another application for her shit-powers, discovered in a crisis. Such an educational Long Night this was!

Wait...

From up here on the roof, it was pretty clear that the dawnward skies had lightened just slightly. Though that was probably a relief to everyone else in the world, Stench groaned out loud upon noticing it. Son of a bitch! And the high from the witch-hemp was definitely wearing off- she still felt it, but she didn't feel so eager at the idea of embracing her lunacy any more.

Had she really just stuffed shit up her cunt before an audience of at least fifty people? Yes. Had she really just bent over naked before a crowd in the hopes that someone she found at least moderately attractive would fuck her ass? Absolutely, she would have let that hypothetical person do it, and she was genuinely annoyed that it hadn't worked out.

She vowed then and there that there was not, and never would be, anything in the world that would make her regret doing any of what she'd just done! Gods, this had been the most incredible experience of her life, and she'd done a lot of disgusting hedonistic shit lately! And, when all was said and done, she'd been right; with her newfound powers, she actually had gotten away with it!

Except now the Long Night was coming to an end, and she was still stuck in Lower Lanovul, miles from safety, having just pissed off a good portion of the town, repeatedly taunted the primary party interested in capturing her, and she'd been so caught up in acting like a perverted maniac that the idea of cutting things short before she ran out of darkness had occurred to her, and she'd declined!

It was fine. This was fine. She'd gotten away with this much, she could get herself back to safety. Somehow.

She pulled her knickers out from one of her belt-pouches, and pulled her folded-up cloak out from where she'd tucked it. She put them back on, enjoying the slick gooeyness against her pussy and ass (a lot of the shit that covered her was dry and cakey now). She pulled her hood up over her hair. It would probably take days for the shit saturating her tangles to dry out, assuming she let it, and her fingers brushed the fish-head embedded in her hair. The stink of rotting fish, right next to her nose, was a little bit much, even for her. The stench of the compost rotting on her skin was nearly as intense as the stench of shit, and now that the crap on her skin had dried a little, she actually could smell her body odor again.

Gods, with the compost, her stench had actually managed to reach new heights! She loved it!

Was this truly as good as it was possible for her to get, or might she find a way to get nastier still?

There didn't seem to be any point in pulling her dress on- it would take most of a minute to get the tattered fabric on over her body, sticky with crap as a lot of her still was, and she was just as identifiable under the cloak topless as she was wearing her rags. And yes, she was also doing it because the idea of having her tits hanging out for a while longer gave her a thrill (the witch-hemp helped) and she'd found what seemed like a reasonable excuse not to.

She got down from the roof, and headed off in a meandering route that was roughly perpendicular to the direction she'd sent the decoy, which sent her generally uphill and duskward, deeper into town, which was presumably the last place any of her pursuers would expect her to go. She'd loop back around once she got some distance between her and where she presumed her pursuers were.

She tried to look like she was minding her own business. But she also had to give people wide berth, lest they smell her (it was always going to deeply annoy Stench when she had to keep her stench discrete. She wanted to flaunt it!), and was worried that she might be obviously cringing away from everyone she passed and didn't realize her own clumsiness. Was she succeeding at actually being inconspicuous, or was she just bad at noticing people had noticed her?

Great, now the witch-hemp seemed to be helping feed her anxiety instead of suppressing it.

She kept her route nice and twisty, just in case. The faint trail of poop-dust she left behind on the otherwise fairly clear streets, as drying crap crumbled off her, meant that she could track her route, and didn't get turned around even though she practically never went straight at a crossroads.

It didn't feel like it took her too long- maybe half an hour- to loop around to the mid-valley outskirts of Lower, but by the time she'd snuck into some well-off household's walled garden, the sky was so much lighter that there was probably a sunrise behind all those clouds. Had it taken longer to get here than it had felt like, or was the sun rising about twice as quickly as it should be? Long Nights were great at fucking with one's sense of time, but she was pretty sure it was the latter.