GOING BOSTAL
2. Out on the Town (part e)
The tailored silk lining felt soft and comforting against the irritated skin of Kana's throat. It was simply a thin layer of felt padding beneath a double thickness of powder blue silk, but it made the slave collar feel more like a luxury than a symbol of servitude.
It made Kana's heart feel heavier than a brick.
While the tailor had made the necessary modifications to Kana's slave collar, Kurai-sama had produced a small tube of salve from one of his belt pouches. Tossing it to her, he'd curtly ordered her to apply some to her chafed skin before the collar went back on. And while Kana sat in the tailor's waiting room, blushing and feeling strangely naked without her collar, Kurai-sama watched attentively as the tailor went to work. Since Anna-chan wasn't with them, Kurai-sama would have to attach the second lining to Anna-chan's collar later, on his own.
Kana had finished up and recapped the tube well before the tailor finished his task. Kurai-sama had brought the modified collar out and gently locked it around Kana's neck once more. Its touch was so soft that Kana barely knew it was there.
And now, walking through the increasingly crowded streets in the half-light before nightfall, she remembered another phantom touch – the brief contact of his hand on her breast. It... it wasn't as if he'd never touched her there before, or if they hadn't done naughtier things than that in the time since she'd become his property, but...
But I'm just his slave, she thought, in agony. Just his slave, and not even an attractive slave. Kurai-sama likes large breasts, like Yumi's. I'm not young enough anymore to be loli. I'm sure even Oukami-sama wouldn't find me attractive. I'm just a small-chested, shy, mousy slave girl. And Kurai-sama... Kurai-sama is...
He hadn't said much to her since that awkward moment in the tavern, nothing more than absolutely necessary. Disgusted at her lack of obedience, no doubt. She wasn't even any good at that. But it was different with Kurai-sama, so much different to the way it had been with Master Sardul. And Kana wasn't sure exactly why it was different. She just knew that it had been so much easier to submit to Sardul, even though she hadn't really cared what the brute thought of h—
No. Kana shuddered, bringing her arms up to cover her chest, rubbing the goose bumps that were breaking out on her arms in the cooling evening breeze. No, please. I don't. I can't possibly...
Her breasts were so small. Her arms, so skinny and gawky-looking. He couldn't see anything in her. He couldn't possibly see anything in her.
You shouldn't like me, Kurai-sama. You shouldn't praise me. It... it hurts me when you do. It makes me feel awkward. Because it's a lie. I'm not... I'm not good enough for you. You belong with someone so much better than me. Someone... someone real.
Meekly, she followed him, forced to orbit him by the radius of the leash that bound her to his side. But was that all that was keeping her there? Was what the bald stall owner said true? Could she escape, if she wanted to? Admittedly, she had nowhere to go, but part of her remembered a time when slavery had seemed like nothing but pure degradation. A thankless life, the only point of which was to prove how worthless she was – something only fit to be used. And now... and now, she couldn't picture herself leading any other existence.
Sadly, Kana realised that she'd answered her own question.
There were more sailors on the streets now, made all the more obvious by their brightly-coloured scarves. Kurai-sama had told her that different colours signified the different groups under the global banner of the Mariners' Union, with the finer details of affiliation and duties marked by simple embroidered badges. There were a lot of blue-scarfed sailors in this part of town, though it was getting increasingly difficult to distinguish colours in the fading light. Street lamps were coming on as the militia made their sporadic rounds.
"Reminds me of my time in the military," Kurai-sama was saying, as they passed another pair of militiamen in worn leather armour. "I was never a front-line combatant, though – I was tapped for things like reconnaissance and intelligence gathering." He paused at a junction, looking left and right. "This way, I think. Come on."
Kana didn't recognise this area either; it was a cluttered and badly-maintained district of warehouses and unused drydocks. The cobbles underneath her feet were uneven, making the going awkward, and the street lamps were few and far between. She edged closer to Kurai-sama, while still not touching him. At times, she was sure she could hear voices and footsteps in the distance, though the crowds had thinned out to almost nothing, with only the occasional blue– or green-scarfed passerby sharing the streets with them.
"The service was where I got my moniker, actually," Kurai-sama continued, almost to himself, as he led the way through the deserted alleyways. "Dusk is my time of day, when shadows gather and the light fades. When the cicadas sing and the cool breeze takes on a bitter edge, in the darkling light, I could prowl past a dozen goblin sentries and never be seen or heard – nothing more than a slight wavering of the shadows, a brief disturbance of air. I could slip close enough to gut them with a single thrust of my knife. And then, when night fell, I'd slip into the blanketing darkness like nothing more than a memory... Kana?"
Kana blinked, coming back to herself. "Kurai-sama?"
He paused underneath the wavering light of a street lamp, scowling at her. "What is it? Am I boring you?"
"No!" Kana protested. "No! It's just... your words. I... I like listening to your words," she mumbled, ducking her head and hoping that the blush in her cheeks wouldn't show in the gloom. "And I... I like listening to your voice," she added, softly. "It... it comforts me."
"Then..." he muttered, lowering his eyes, not looking at her. "Then that's all you like about me? You're not... I'm not attractive to you, is that it?"
"N–not at all!" she blurted, too quickly. "There's... there's lots of things about Kurai-sama that I l–like..."
"Then why did you pull back from me?" he asked, lifting his head. His tortured gaze pierced Kana's heart. "Why did you flinch when I touched you? Is it... am I that aversive to you, Kana?"
"Why?" she asked, babbling the first thing that popped into her head. "Why is that important to you? Why can't I just be your slave – why do I have to... Why do you want me to—" She broke off, realising that she was dancing far too close to the heart of the matter for comfort.
"You... you're a girl!" Kurai-sama pointed out, helplessly. "You're a teenaged girl! Like Anna. I look at her and Wolfson; I see what they have, and I—"
"I'm not a typical teenage girl!" Kana cried, loudly and indignantly. "I'm nothing like Anna-chan!"
"No!" Kurai-sama snapped back. "No, you're not, are you?"
For a few moments, they just stared at each other in the shimmering lamplight. Kana could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and she knew what she wanted to do – she wanted to close the distance and hide herself in his arms.
But it wouldn't have been right.
"You... you're shivering," Kurai-sama said, after a few moments. "H... here." And, before Kana could think to protest, he'd unclasped his dark cloak and draped it over her shoulders.
Kurai-sama... she thought, pathetically, as her eyes filled with tears. This isn't how you should treat me. This isn't the way a master treats his slave...
But she didn't say the words. She couldn't bring herself to say them. Because they might change things. They might upset the status quo.
"Thank you," she mumbled, keeping her eyes down, but still all too aware of his hurt gaze lingering on her. She drew his cloak tighter around herself, as if to hide. Not looking at him. Not daring to.
"Come on, Kana," Kurai-sama said, eventually. "It's getting late."
"Hai."
Kana found herself focusing on Kurai-sama's black-shirted shoulders as he walked in front of her. She remembered the slight roughness of the fabric when she'd stroked his back in the tavern. And then, reluctantly, she remembered the smooth warmth of his bare skin from that one night they'd made love, back in the town of Compost. She remembered the interplay of muscles in his shoulders and back; the way those muscles had moved under her touch as she lay beneath him, and they kissed desperately, and he filled her – filled her, body and soul.
Kurai-sama... she whispered, silently, to his back. I... I lo—
"Say g'night!"
"Wha—?"
Kurai-sama barely had time to utter a startled yelp before a heavy club came crashing down on the junction of his shoulder and neck, driving him to the slick cobblestones. He twisted his head, glancing up at his two assailants for a split-second before the club came down again, connecting solidly with his temple. This time Kurai-sama didn't even make a sound as he sank limply to the street.
"Good job, Brink," the shorter of the two assailants said as they stepped out of the side alley. "Seems we got the better deal after all – this one went down a lot easier than that big bastard would've."
"Thank the club," the taller one said, patting his weapon affectionately. "Lessee now. Go on, Nezz – grab the girl 'fore she gets her wits back!"
And as Kana just stood there, shocked senseless, the two of them moved forward into the lamplight, their red scarves only slightly brighter than the spattered blood staining the side of Kurai-sama's head. The shorter one leered up at her, displaying numerous missing teeth, before reaching down to appropriate Kana's leash from Kurai-sama's limp hand.
"Yeh, she's a pretty one," the dwarfish Nezz commented, tugging hard at Kana's leash and forcing her to stumble forward. "Should fetch ya a good price, Mister Clancy."
And now the taller one stepped forward as well, after giving Kurai-sama a cautious prod with one booted foot.
"It's clear, Mister Clancy," he said, after a moment. "This one won't be causing us no trouble."
And now another man stepped out of the shadows, dressed with much more care and refinement than his two companions. Kana's heart was somewhere in her lower intestine, and her mind was still struggling to come to terms with the suddenness of what had just happened. And so she only got a confused, feverish impression of a somewhat foppish, pony-tailed man with a rakish brown beard and moustache.
A long-fingered hand, decked with numerous rings, fastened itself on Kana's chin and forced her head up. "Her eyes are like precious gemstones," the pony-tailed man mused, looking down at her coolly. His eyes were dead and snakelike – passionless. Kana just stared up at him, gulping for air. "Innocent, too," he said, offhandedly. "Oh well. She won't be for long. Nezz, Brink. Bring her."
"Right y'are, Mister Clancy," the tall, gangly Brink said, grabbing Kana by the elbows and ushering her past Kurai-sama's motionless body. She twisted her neck desperately, trying to keep him in sight for as long as possible. But she couldn't go back to him. She was as helpless as her master, lying there unconscious and vulnerable in the street.
"Kurai-sama!" she screamed, hopelessly, before Nezz clamped one dirty hand over her mouth and all she could do was wail through a mouthful of his hard, weathered palm. She closed her eyes, sobbing wrenchingly.
Kurai-sama...
Next: The night begins