Carnal Outcasts Ch 02

*Note before reading, this chapter and most likely a fair amount of future chapters as well will contain a bit of violence (in a non sexual way). So if you aren't into a little bit of grim dark fantasy then have fun reading whatever you enjoy reading instead! Otherwise, thanks for reading and as always let me know what you think!*

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Chapter 2 - Rhylann POV

Sweat rolled down Rhylann's cheek and onto his lips, the taste of salt enough to wake him from a sleep deeper than he had felt in months. A soft, curled up mass of radiating heat lay next to him hidden underneath the covers. A few groggy seconds passed before he was cognizant enough to remember what what the hell it was. He was sharing a bed with Willow!

Life on the road had made him accustom to sleeping alone. Night after night spent between just him and his cargo, a few woolen blankets underneath a tarp with as much room to stretch as his limbs could reach. It felt strange, another living, breathing, human sleeping close to him. They had so often been separated by layers of wood and fabric, hardly close enough to hear each other snore. And now despite how hot, sweaty, and uncomfortable he was having all of his personal space taken up by this tiny little woman, he had never felt better.

At some point during the night she had turned her face towards his. The top of her head was lodged in the crook of his neck and her right arm laid limp across his rib cage. Even more to his surprise, his left palm sat perched atop her hip while his fingers sank into the soft flesh of her right butt cheek. His reflexes took over and ripped his hand away from her as if he were accidentally touching a hot skillet. Willow didn't move an inch.

The feeling of Willow's large, unrestrained breasts smashed against his midsection made his heart stop, yet her steady breath against his neck eased his own. A mix of both zen and adrenaline evoked enough confidence in him to finally make a move. He tentatively laid his hand back on top of her hip, easing further and further behind until the tips of his fingers reached the crevice between her cheeks. He pulled, forcing her pelvis as close as possible against his own. The softness of her body made him curse at himself for not having the balls to make a move on her sooner, preferably while she was actually awake for that matter.

Despite Willow's ability to sleep like a drugged up bear during hibernation, sleep never returned for him. Rhylann lay there motionless except for an occasional stroke of his finger tips across her skin. What must have been the most serene couple hours of his life was interrupted by a single small ray of light peering through a crack in the wooden studs. The dark orange tint of early sunrise reminded him that he was needed elsewhere and forced him out of bed.

Careful movements allowed him to slip out of bed undetected, catching one last whiff of fresh lavender before readjusting the blanket so that only Willow's face peaked out from underneath. It did not take Rhylann long to collect everything he needed from there. What little light there was proved enough without reigniting any candles; he found a quick change of clothes and a small handful of coins from his coin purse that he gently lay on Willow's beside table, along with an extra room key. He had no idea how long he would be gone. Maybe he would return even before she awoke, but it should be enough just in case she wanted a hot omelet or bowl of oats from the kitchens first thing in the morning.

One last thing before sneaking out the door; Rhylann unlatched the chest at the foot of the bed before taking out a small lock box, surprisingly heavy for its size. It took quite the effort moving it from the cart to the room in a way no one would notice the previous evening, but he couldn't risk it staying in the cart without him there to guard it, no matter how secure Barrett kept his stables. He transferred the box to his pack, the rugged leather having a hard time not busting at the seams. With nothing but a quick squeak of the door's latch behind him, he was gone.

The common room was just about as quiet as he had ever heard. A few men sat around the hearth trying to maintain a stunted fire as they chatted, soft enough that Rhylann could discern nothing more than murmurs on expressionless faces. Other than the few mugs within arms reach of the men, the rest of the room sat spotless to no surprise of his own. Every table, chair, rug, and even candlestick had been put back in it's original place since the rowdiness of the evening before. Martha could never stand a messy room and was never hesitant to pay the maids overtime if need be. Rhylann made sure not to linger and left, not wanting to draw any more or less attention to himself than usual. Just a normal man going about his normal business.

The streets and alley ways never rested as the people inside of the inns did. In fact, people here seemed to sleep less than the residents of the numerous other cities Rhylann had been. Something about the nearby ocean breeze kept the streets busy, almost as if there were no day or night. A mass of torches lined the streets to light the way for when the sun refused, almost reaching their end and allowing the sun to take over as it peaked over the wall. Rhylann's hand moved to the hilt of his dagger as if to make sure someone had not already picked it from his belt before continuing into the heart of the restless city.

Rhylann weaved through the open streets and ducked into narrow alleys. What had once been a maze of nearly identical looking paths was now simple to navigate, even where the light from the rising sun and dying torches could no longer reach. He passed by countless groups of drunks nearly unconscious without as much as a nod and even more hooded men shrouded like himself without as much as a glance. It didn't take anyone long to learn that manners and friendliness ran dry all but inside of the inns and taverns.

What had taken him nearly an hour the first time he made the trip only took fifteen minutes now at most. The blade at his hip had managed to stay confided within it's sheath by the time he reached his destination, the cities oldest brothel. The building stood short at only two stories, but wide, taking up four times as much space along the roads as most other buildings in the historical district. Ornate inscriptions covered the wood trim and dozens of three hundred year old granite sculptures, mostly of nude men and women in elegant poses, littered the edges of the rooftop.

Rhylann approached the front entrance, a heavily overly branded iron double door with two burly men standing guard on either side like stone gargoyles. Rhylann pulled back his hood just enough to expose his face in the dawn's twilight. The two guards who had never even bothered to learn his name undid the latch on the door without a word, allowing him to enter the brothel.

The smell of perfume and opium smoke invaded his nostrils, infinitely stronger than the scented oils in bath house back at the inn. Though, Rhylann supposed he preferred it to the scents of musk and bodily fluids that were more than abundant in the private rooms. The door latched again behind him, locking out the thieves and petty criminals running rampant through the city, but locking him in with criminals of a whole other make.

The lobby was even more grand than the great room of the Hidden Coin. Glistening white marble covered the floor, supporting a multitude of couches and chairs with cushions as fat and soft as overfed rabbits. Bowls of fresh fruit and platters of smoked meats and cheeses took up most of the table space that wasn't already covered with hookah lamps, nearly continuously in use.

Men and women of all shapes, sizes, and races enjoyed lounging in the lobby engorging themselves on food and drugs while the whores paraded themselves around. Breasts big and small, butts plump and flat, penis' long and short, no matter the asset, they all dressed in nothing but colorful accessories meant to accentuate the best parts of their body. Some customers accepted the offer of the first whore to approach them, others made the rounds, flirting and groping as many as they could get their hands on before choosing their mate for the duration of their stay. Most females flocked to the men and males to the women, but an occasional paying customer showed no preference, accepting whoever extended their hand in offer of a private session. Rhylann made his way through the crowd of tight bodies working their way around the room before heading down a narrow corridor.

A melody of moans and slapping flesh played from behind a countless number of closed doors. Step after step revealed more and more grunting and moaning from women and men alike. As much as Rhylann loved the room back at the inn, he couldn't help but wish he had spent the night with Willow in one of these rooms instead. A twinge of blood flowed into his cock at the thought. He made sure to slightly adjust his trousers before coming to a stair well at the end of the hall, blocked off by metal bars reaching from floor to ceiling.

"Has it started yet?" Rhylann asked a man with a generic face sitting guard by the bottom step. The stool was far too small to support any fully grown man comfortably, though that was more than likely the point. If the boss caught him sleeping on guard duty, it was doubtful that he would ever wake up again. Better to be uncomfortable than dead and replaced.

The man stood up to unlock the solid steel gate separating him from the stairs leading to the restricted area of the second level. "Not yet. But you're just about the last one. Better hurry on up." Rhylann followed the man's advice and jogged up the stairs as soon as he could squeeze through the open gate. The lock box dug into his back with every step but did nothing to slow him down.

The stair case took him to the familiar open landing of the meeting room. Windows lined two of the walls with heavy blinds draped over them, blocking out any watchful eyes and natural light, forcing them to opt for large candles flaring out of wall sconces that never seemed to burn out. Voices would have echoed around the old hard wood floor and ceiling if not for the bodies gathered around a large oval table in the center, or the total lack of voices all together. Around two dozen chairs sat filled with men while only two sat empty. Rhylann made a beeline for the nearest one and removed his pack before sitting, not daring to be the first to utter a word.

Five slow, awkward minutes past before the short man with large glasses approached the table full of men from down the hall. A small group of burley, almost evil looking men followed his lead and took up a post standing against the wall towards opposite ends of the table as they usually did during these meetings. The short man whose name was still a mystery strolled as he orbited the table while holding a stack of papers high out in front of him to read.

"It has been a very lucrative month. Very lucrative." The man said. He went on explaining financial risks and rewards for what seemed to be an hour, but realistically was no more than fifteen or twenty minutes. Next, he went around the table confirming numbers with all of the men. When it was Rhylann's turn, he confirmed every item on the list of inventory that he had moved while on the road and at the man's special request, took the lock box out of his bag and handed it over to one of his men. The large man had far less trouble heaving it around than Rhylann did and disappeared back down the hall from which they originally came.

"Very good then." The man with glasses said. He continued with the last few remaining men until all were done and he seemed satisfied. "Excellent!" The man continued. "Fine job, everyone! Fine job. Everything checks out." There was a long, hefty pause before he went on. "Now then, unfortunately, it seems impossible to avoid perfection despite all of your great efforts. Well, not allll of you, but most of you at the very least."

The man nodded to the group of goons standing beside the table causing them to march back down the hallway. "It seems that one of you can't help but dip their quill in company ink. You all know that Alard does not tolerate such behavior." All of the men, Rhylann included, kept their thoughts to themselves but their eyes on each other.

Heavy feet came rumbling back into the room from the hallway. Two men on either side pushed a nearly lifeless body towards the table. The young man fell forward, laying limp on the floor next to Rhylann. When the guards reached him again and hoisted him back upright, Rhylann caught a look at the now familiar face. He had only seen the young man a few times during these meetings, always quiet, respectful, and on time. He was young, no older than twenty and thin as a stick, but his face appeared worn now as if he had aged twenty more years overnight. The young man's eyes were open, but did not appear to see anything. The guards sat him down in the sole empty chair across from Rhylann, the one that had been reserved for him.

The man with glasses spoke again, louder than before. "Oh, to be young and stupid again. Not only did he make the mistake of falling in love with a whore, but he tried to steal her away from here like some kind of common thief." He snickered and faced the young man to talk to him directly. "I must admit, out of all the men I expected to try and pull some shit like that, you were the last on my mind. Didn't think you had the balls. Well, at least you get to die as a bit of a bad ass huh?"

The young man appeared to try and cry, but his wilted body did not have the energy. He could only muster a few soft, shaky words, "She was going to kill herself. I couldn't let that happen." The man with glasses did not seem impressed. "Well then, I've got an idea! Maybe you should just take her place, huh?" He pulled out a small vile of clear liquid and set it down on the table in front of him. "She wouldn't dare take her own life after she learned of the sacrifice you made for her! It would be downright disrespectful if she didn't live her life to the fullest until she turned old and gray, wouldn't you say?"

The boy appeared almost relieved that he wouldn't have to continue the nightmare that it seemed he had been living since he had been caught, however long that had been. Or maybe he did genuinely belief he would save her life. Either way, he used his last ounce of strength to reach out and grab the vile, his tired eyes just staring at the liquid..

"Let's be quick about it." The man with glasses commanded. Not two seconds later did the boy down the entire vial. What little light left in his eyes slowly started to fade until he finally went limp, his cheek resting peacefully on the tabletop. No screaming in pain. No gasping for air. No bleeding from the mouth or convulsing. Just quick, easy, death.

Rhylann knew he wasn't the only one frozen in shock. It had all happened so fast that he never felt fear, or anxiety, or dread. He felt nothing until now. Now all he felt was regret that he allowed himself to get pulled into this kind of life in the first place. And regret that the young man and the whore didn't manage to escape to safety. But most likely, there was no such place. He'd heard the stories of the men and women who managed to escape, no matter how far they had gone, they were all caught eventually, and heavily punished for their treason. The young man's death seemed to be one of the best case scenario's compared to the other unfortunate souls.

Rhylann had not even seen where the men had taken the dead man's body, leaving the chair across from him empty once again until they find another new recruit to fill it. Now all that was left standing was the short man with glasses who now seemed far more intimidating than any bear of lion. "I trust we won't have any more mishaps now." He said before adjourning the meeting. No one dared linger around any longer. Rhylann tried to rush out with the rest but was met with a firm hand against his chest, stopping him in his tracks while the others passed him by.

"Alard would like a word before you go." The man with glasses said before turning to slink back into his office. The big brutish man that had stopped him forced Rhylann back and down to the end of the hall like a chicken on its way to the slaughter house. A large, ornate door with carvings only a master wood worker could make stopped him from being corralled any further. He hesitated, unsure if he was supposed to wait, to knock, or to just let himself in.

The brute behind him reached around with long arms and pushed the door open, making his decision for him. With one deep breath, he cowered into the room, alone, while the brute stood outside to wait and closed the door far more easily than any man of his size should be capable of. Now, he was left alone with the most powerful man in the city, surely more powerful than any noble, and Rhylann was at his mercy.

Only, to Rhylann's surprise, they were not alone. Wet slurping sounds drew his attention to the side of the office where a man with the darkest skin he had ever seen lay splayed out in a red leather chair. Crouched between his open legs, a woman with slightly lighter skin and black hair bobbed up and down without so much as a gag or gurgle. Her naked back and curly hair blocked Rhylann's view of the man's lower body as she served him, but the length her head had to rise up before traveling back down to his pelvis made Rhylann believe she had to have been working on a truly massive cock.

Allard brought his big, bald head up from it's fully thrown back position and opened an eye to inspect Rhylann. The feeling was indescribable, Alard's gaze staring back into his. Rhylann felt the urge to break eye contact and adjust his gaze to the floor, but his body refused to move. Would it be a sign of disrespect? Or would it be a sign of disrespect not to? Both options felt like the wrong choice.

"That's enough." Allard commanded in a deep, raspy voice. He held an open hand out in front of the woman's face who immediately removed his cock from her throat and sat back onto the heels of her feet. She sat silent and motionless while Allard stood, unashamed of his exposed member slathered in bubbly saliva from base to tip. Rhylann stared with intrigue rather than infatuation; his girth was just slightly more than average, but the length rivaled that of any stallion's. The woman had to have been a sorcerer to take such a cock balls deep, and he never would have believed it if he had not just seen her accomplish the feat with his own eyes.

Despite it's length, Allard's cock did not hang down at all as he walked behind his desk in the center of the room, but instead stuck out perfectly straight and rock hard beneath his large, distended belly. If Allard noticed Rhylann staring at his cock and low hanging balls, he did not show it. He didn't show much of anything, making it impossible for Rhylann to get a read on his thoughts and feelings.

"Why do you think I trusted you with something as important as this?" Alard asked gesturing to the lock box resting atop the desk. Rhylann scrambled to think of answer, knowing now was not the time to freeze up. He tried to think of every single minute detail that he was given when he was took the assignment. The briefing told him the box contained something so valuable that even the king could not afford it, and that he was to die before giving it up. That was it. The man who gave it to him once he had arrived halfway across the kingdom did not utter a word about, and moved on with his day as if it were an everyday transaction at the local market.

Rhylann remembered the constant worry that someone would steal it; sneaking a peek at it in the hidden compartment under his seat whenever he got the chance which Willow did not make easy once she joined him. The worry had nearly drove him mad, and just might have if not for Willow providing a good distraction for the last leg of the trip. Rhylann understood trying to be discrete about such a thing, but it made no sense why such a smart and powerful man would leave such a thing up to chance with a driver he barely knew. And that's when he understood.