[b][u][center]Bats and Their Ladies For Rayoelgatubelo By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b] Clementine had no idea how the world outside of her mansion worked, but it couldn’t be that hard. She was rich – or, well, had been – and was leaving with enough money to keep her afloat for a while. Maybe even for as long as a month, if she was lucky. Hopefully long enough for her aunt to calm down and see sense. The dark-haired woman’s hands shook as she packed her bag, shook so hard that she had to clench them together to force them still again. The fear just under the surface that this might be a permanent exile were stifled, at least for now. She could not afford to think of that right then. [i]Underthings, dresses, gloves, shoes, handkerchiefs, perfume…[/i] Despite the money she’d tucked into a hidden pocket under her skirt, Clementine took a few fruits from the side of her bed and tucked them in the bag, as well. Better to be safe than sorry. It might be some time before she could come out in the open again. She felt that was as ready as she could be. Shaking her head, she closed the bag and tucked it under her arm, looking out the window. The night was young, the sun just barely over the horizon. Soon, it would have set completely, and the streets would be dark as could be. She needed to be somewhere safer by then. She left her room, shutting the door and praying she would someday return to open it again. Passing through the still house, she glanced at the new portraits that had displaced hers. A long-lost heir to the family, a brother and sister, had been found and adopted. Her place as the heir to the fortune was challenged, and the aunt that had borne those children – the same one that had threatened to have her outcast – was pushing for all members of the family to accept the newcomers as the new heirs. And the sooner that any problematic candidates were removed, the better, as far as the older woman was concerned. There had already been one attempt on Clementine’s life, one that had been thankfully interrupted by the city guard, but she knew that wouldn’t work again. Her aunt, in her frenzy, would likely bribe the captains of the watch to ensure that the young woman was ignored the next time something like that happened. They’d turn the other way, and leave her to die. And no questions would be asked. The rich were a law unto themselves, and if one didn’t have the intelligence and resources to match their opponents, then it was deemed fair enough if they were eliminated. Clementine’s only hope was a self-exile, hoping that it would give her aunt long enough to cool down and stop trying to have her killed. Once the twins were given their position as heirs, perhaps she might be invited back on a lesser stipend, or at least, on something. She just hoped that a month was long enough. Giving the great hall one last look, admiring the old paintings of her family, Clementine left the house. # Two hours later, she realized that she wasn’t as ready for the streets as she’d expected. She leaned against the alley wall, panting softly as her attackers ran off, chasing shadows down the street. She waited until the sound of their footsteps faded away, then slumped down, her torn skirt soaking itself further in the puddles on the street. [i]This was a bad idea…this was a very, very bad idea,[/i] she thought, her thoughts colder than the rest of her in a vain attempt to stop the panicked tears from flowing. It was not going to work, but she had to try, otherwise she’d completely lose control. She hadn’t been out of the house for more than thirty minutes before some shadowy figure had tried to stab her. Clementine had gotten away from the random assassin, but only by throwing her bag at him and running away as fast as her feet would carry her. Her heels had broken on the run, forcing her to discard her footwear and hope for the best. After that, there had been innumerable people watching her as she walked down the street. Homeless men and women, the poor, press-gangs that looked at her as if they might want to start a career in prostitution. She avoided them as best she could, keeping to the edges of the street and moving as much as chance allowed from lamplight to lamplight. The light at least kept her in the common view of others so that they wouldn’t all jump her at once. Then…then those thugs… It had been hard enough to go through it, let alone think of it again after. It only came in flashes. Two young men, each one a bit drunk, each one obviously working class. She had attempted to walk by them, but they’d caught her by the skirt, pulling her back. One yanked her closer, forcing her to kiss him, while the other started fondling her, squeezing her, telling her unspeakable things that he wanted to do to her. She’d done something. Slapped one. It hadn’t done much, and he’d only grinned before slapping her back. Her cheek still hurt, and she pressed one hand to it, feeling the heat coming off her skin. The worst part had been when her skirt had ripped, coming almost all the way up to her thigh. The hidden pocket with her money had split open, and that… That had been the only thing to save her. While the thugs were too busy gathering up the bills, she had run, run as fast as she could on bare feet. They’d chased her, eventually, but she’d gained enough of a lead to lose them. She’d lost her money, her shoes, her clothes, but at least she’d kept some remnant of dignity, some bit of herself. Not that it mattered on the streets. It took her far too long to collect herself after the attack. Even though she knew that she needed to get to a hostel, or anything indoors for that matter, she had a hard time pulling herself to her feet. The thought of being found again was terrifying, but so was the thought of braving the streets once more. If she was caught again, she had nothing to distract them from doing whatever it was they wanted with her. The alleys, on the other hand… Clementine glanced in the other direction, her eyes sweeping down the empty, dirty passageway. There were no lights to guide her way, but that would work in her favor, surely. There wouldn’t be as many ways for someone to see her, and the tight passages would mean only a few people could come after at once, and even then only in single-file. [i]It’s better than risking a gang on the streets,[/i] she thought, turning her back on the lights of the lamps…and going towards something far more dangerous, if only she knew. # She was on the move for nearly an hour, losing herself in the twisting, turning alleys between the buildings. It was like a rat warren in there, so long and twisted and old that there was no easy way for someone to find their way through. She experimented with keeping to one side, turning in only one direction, as surely that would lead her back the way she came, but no. All she encountered were dead-ends. Clementine was on the verge of a breakdown when she heard someone ahead of her. Or, at least, one someone. There were footsteps, the soft clitter-clatter of debris being kicked around. She froze in place, not daring to move, even as her aching feet begged for her to find somewhere to rest. There was silence, silence for nearly five minutes, before it was broken by a deep, throaty, but surprisingly feminine chuckle. “Are you going to stand there all night long, dear, or are you going to step into the light?” There was a snapping sound, and a lamp turned on. It was a gas lamp, she realized, something that shouldn’t have been out in the alleys. It was rare to see them off the streets, but in here, where nobody was supposed to be? And the fact that it was suspended over the middle of an intersection of the alleys told her that it was not supposed to be there at all. Someone had stolen this, rigged it up here with the clumsy, rough pipes that led to it, and she imagined that usually it was kept off. “Why should I come into the light? The last time I did that…” “The last time you did that, you were on the streets,” the stranger said from the darkness. “Here, you are in my domain. Come forward…let me see you.” “You won’t see anything worthwhile. Everything has been taken from me.” “All the more reason to see what you have left. Until you lose everything you have, you have no idea of who you are. Come into the light.” There was a note of impatience in the ‘request’ this time, and she knew better than to keep the stranger waiting. She had gotten by on the skin of her teeth so far, and she didn’t have the courage to make someone angry with her. Not now. Not after this much failure. The barefoot woman stepped forward, her hands clenched tight at the sides of her skirt. Her yellow dress had been ripped further, lines cut through the sides and along her belly from where she’d skirted around debris and wreckage in the alley. Trash had cut at her outfit, through her leggings, almost exposing an obscene amount of leg. The fact that any of it was still whole and undamaged was a surprise. She lowered her head as she stepped under the light, waiting for someone to sneak up behind her and cut her throat. It would be the perfect capping off moment for the night, knowing that someone had finally accomplished what her aunt wanted. Instead, she heard a soft clicking sound, a sound so high-pitched that it was almost too high to hear. She looked up, trying to see the source of it, but there was nothing to see. “Well, well. You certainly are a bit more beautiful than I expected,” the voice said. “I thought that I would have another little rat to work with. But no, you bring more than most. Do you know where you are, girl?” “I…I don’t. I ran away from my home, so…I don’t know where I’ve gone.” “You have come to Damshen’s place, girl, and Damshen will give you what you need.” From the shadows came movement, a silhouette that formed itself into another woman. She must have been the speaker, because she had the same confidence on her face as the voice had had to her ears. The other woman was tall, taller than most men that Clementine knew. She had darker skin, too, someone from a foreign country, someone that had probably moved here with the great flood of boats over the last few years. She didn’t know what to think of that, but more than that, she didn’t know what to think of how the woman dressed. She wore something like a dress, but it was both too loose and too tight at the same time. Too loose to hold large, bountiful breasts, too tight to hide the hips and bottom down below. If Clementine was nearly showing too much leg, then this Damshen was showing an obscene amount of it, her legs bare from her ankles all the way up to her upper thighs. If there was the slightest breeze, the woman’s privates would be on display. “You…you’re a whore?” she asked. “Ah, I am a lady of the night, but not quite like that,” the dark-skinned woman said, chuckling deep in her throat. “I am, however, someone that can give you what you need, regardless of who you are.” “That’s…that’s a whore, though…you give…services…” “For money? Heh…” Damshen moved closer, but Clementine couldn’t find it in herself to back away, even though she knew she should. The terrifying woman, with all her exposed flesh and her confidence in it, was something that seemed to have stepped out of a warning tale from the church. Yet, she allowed the other woman to touch her cheek, shivering at the contact between them. “Is that so terrifying to you? Is it the most frightening thing you can think of, a woman with power?” “I…No!” “Then why do you fear me, hmm?” Damshen started walking around her, circling her, pacing about her like a predator before prey. Clementine had no idea how to respond, and so only lowered her head. “You are on the run, fleeing from danger,” the other woman whispered. “I know the power of the city, and I know the power of the rich. I can help you. I can keep you safe.” “Why would you do that?” she asked, half-hoping, half-dreading an offer. “Oh, there’s many reasons. Because of what you are, and how you might be useful. Because you’re beautiful, and that will be useful as well. Or maybe…” A dark hand grabbed her by the shoulder, and the other wrapped around her neck. Clementine stiffened at the inhuman strength that held her, and went wide-eyed as she felt a tongue against her neck, followed by teeth too sharp and too long to be human. “Maybe I just like the idea…of proper prey again…” “You…you’re a vampire…” “Mmm, closer, closer still, but not quite…” Damshen chuckled, her voice still lilting and sweet and heavy, almost hypnotic in the way that it held her in place. Even when the hands left her, she couldn’t bring herself to run, couldn’t flee from the strange woman. “I can offer you protection, food, water, a place to stay,” she said. “The only thing I ask in return…is your eternal obedience.” It was a harsh deal, though one that she was more than tempted to accept. The fear of the streets was still strong in her, almost too strong for her to be able to handle. She looked back the way she came, imagining the thugs that had chased her and stolen her money. They had come too close to taking something else, too. “Will I have to…” “Whore yourself?” Clementine blushed, but the other woman only smirked. “No. Not if you do what I say. If you decide to make yourself difficult, then I might feel the need to punish you, but not if you do what I say.” Then there was protection from that. It was a horrifying prospect to sell herself, particularly to something that was most definitely not human, but there had always been the fact that she would need to sell herself to someone. Somewhere. That was the lot in life for a woman of means. “Then…” “You accept?” “I…accept.” “Splendid. Then come with me. There is a place that you must see.” The dark-skinned woman grabbed her by the wrist, and Clementine let herself be led along. She had no idea where they were going, but she felt like she was about to descend into hell. # She was not far wrong. The walls were painted crimson, and she had to tell herself that there was no way that it was all blood. Even if this Damshen had the powers of hell, there was no way that she would be able to paint everything with the blood of other victims. It was a convincing look, though. They passed through old wooden boards, fences that had been made of crates that had been trashed long ago. The wooden slats shut behind them, cutting off the rest of the alleys from Damshen’s little world, and for the first time, she had a clear look at where she was. A bundle of huts and houses made of the same rubbish that formed the walls had been assembled, creating a ramshackle town that seemed to center on one house in the center. It was more dome-like, more present than the rest, and she could see that there was a hole cut out from the roof, something that exposed the middle of it to the sky. Why, she did not know, but she allowed Damshen to pull her through the village towards it. Other men and women watched, some of them wearing little more than scraps, and others wearing nothing at all. She saw more genitals in those few moments than she had seen ever before in her life. Most striking of all, however, was the way that every human bowed their head to the dark-skinned woman. White or black, even the sallow-skinned people of the east, they all bowed to Damshen as if she were a queen, or more. “What did you do to them?” she whispered as they entered the dome. “I gave them purpose. They obey me, now, and I give them what they need in return. Whether that is protection, sustenance, or…relief.” The sheer pleasure that was exhaled with that word sent a shiver down her spine, and she decided that she didn’t need to know what else the other woman did for her people. Not in detail, for sure. She put it out of her mind as they entered the hut, only for it to be slammed back in again as Damshen plucked at a string over her shoulder. The dress she wore stiffened, and then collapsed around her ankles. Clementine’s eyes could not have gone wider if she tried, and she did her best to look anywhere but at the woman in front of her. The thick, dark rump was familiar from the servants that she had in the manor, but the rest…the thick breasts…the heavy curves…the womanly body that flaunted everything that was female and demanded respect for it… That was all new to her, and she didn’t know how to deal with it. Her cheeks were still burning as Damshen turned around, a splash of hair above her sex that was already damp. The dark woman reached down, touching herself before bringing her hands up to Clementine’s nose. The scent was heavy and musky, and her eyes fluttered at the sheer power of it. “You will be mine tonight, Clementine. Dear Clementine.” “Mmmph…I thought you said…” “You are not whoring when you serve your mistress.” “I – but I didn’t…” “You agreed to obey me. That makes me your mistress,” Damshen said, swaying her hips as she turned and walked to a makeshift throne. It was bathed in moonlight beneath the hole in the ceiling, and the other woman chuckled as she sat in it. “You will find it pleasurable enough, particularly after I have marked you.” There was so much happening, so much that she did not know how to handle. She had so many questions, but as the moonlight bathed the other woman in its light, she realized that she was about to have so many more. A deep, heavy pelt of fur started growing from Damshen’s arms. Her flesh faded, buried beneath it as it grew thicker and heavier, running up from her wrists towards her shoulders. Her hands remained bare of it, but they grew rougher, more leathery, the fingers curling as her nails extended into claws. The other woman smirked as her arms changed, as the fur spread along her neck and down along her sides. Her curves remained, her breasts slightly flattening, though hardly at all compared to their original size. Damshen moaned deep in her throat, the sound getting louder as she rolled her head back and forth, cracking her neck. “Ooooh, yes…the power of the night…it is soooo good…” She could not have sounded more devilish or more like a succubus if she tried. Clementine wanted to run, but she was rooted to the spot, damned by her gift of loyalty. She could not run. She was stuck. The transformation continued, the other woman’s arms lifting as a swathe of skin connected them to her sides. It was thin, a membrane that one could almost see through, but she wondered if Damshen could fly with it. Quite possibly, she could, but it was hard to know for sure. It was only getting worse, more bestial as she watched the other woman change. As a snout started to push forward, the other woman’s nose flattening as her lips and nose were yanked forward, she grew bigger ears. Big, long ears that were rounded and flicking, slowly sliding along the side of her head up to the top of it, always on the move, always shifting until there was no way that they had ever been human in shape or size. “Oh gods…” “No. There are no gods here…only Damshen.” The half-woman, half-bat stood up, her body continuing to warp and change. Her hair dangled down her back, bouncing slightly as she moved, and her breasts did the same. The thick fur along her body thinned out, no longer so horribly bestial, but more like a thin, svelte coat that a fashionable woman might wear. The effect was only half-spoiled by her nudity, as her pussy drooled more and more with the transformation, as her body was obviously wracked with pleasure. It took everything that Clementine had to take a step back, but Damshen could move faster, further. Soon, the bat-woman stood in front of her, changed into something so inhuman that it was hard to recognize her. A tail, short and flicked up, popped out of the other woman’s spine. Her feet lifted, growing clawed and long, cracking along the sides as they lengthened. Clawed fingers reached up, gripping Clementine by the chin. “You are mine, girl. My beautiful little rich girl, you will be mine forever.” “I…you…I didn’t…” “It doesn’t matter what you wished. It doesn’t matter what you thought. All that matters is that you made the deal…and now, I will profit from it.” The bat woman moved too quick for her to see, darting forward. One moment, Clementine was afraid; the next, she was pain. “AH!” She gasped for breath as the bat’s fangs sank into her neck, biting down on the side of her throat. Her eyes bugged out of their sockets as she felt that tongue again, this time flicking along her neck in a far more intimate, far more horrible way. Blood, thick gushes of it, came free of her neck. One, two, three, squirting into the bat’s mouth only to be sucked away. She felt the heat leaving her, the warmth of her body fading for a few seconds. Then there was another lick, and the flow slowed. Another lick after that, and the flow stopped, the blood sealed back inside of her. Damshen let her fall, and Clementine gasped for air as she slumped to the ground, clutching one hand over her neck. She swore that she would find blood, that she would be bleeding to death, but no. There was nothing. Not even a hole…only two little puncture wounds left behind. “What…what did you do to me?” she panted. “I took what was mine,” Damshen said, chuckling. “And now, you will become like me…” The cold was already fading, a burning heat replacing it as it ran through her veins. Clementine gasped for breath, her chest heaving as she clawed at the floor, trying to pull herself away. It didn’t matter. She was already doomed. A sudden crack hit her spine, and the rich woman arched her back, thrusting her belly and hips towards the ceiling. Another crack, another, throwing her sideways and leaving her on all fours. She wrapped her arms around her middle, feeling her spine bending, cracking, aching. A wriggling lump was pushing out from the bottom of her spine. It had to be the same sort of tail that Damshen had grown, the same little thing that would mark her as a beast. Not a woman. A [i]beast.[/i] The shudders running down her spine culminated in a ripping sound, the tail pushing out through her undergarments. Her eyes went wide at the ripping, drafty feeling down there, feeling the night’s coolness touch her…her ass…and…and her…pussy… “Nnngh…” She rolled onto her side, still holding her arms around her middle, staring at her hands. They were getting rough, rough and leathery like Damshen’s, her fingers curling and growing longer. Clawed and slender, they were not the hands of a woman, but the hands of a monster. A horrible, depraved monster. Another crack echoed through her body, and she felt her jaws begin to stretch, pulled along almost like there was a hook in her jaw. It dragged her face forward, her nose following, flattening, extending. The world was changing, her eyes bugging out, getting slightly bigger but seeing things even better. But it was the sound, the [i]sound[/i] of things that got to her most. As her ears grew along the side of her head, as they expanded and became ever more sensitive, the sounds of things began to paint a picture in her head. Even when she clenched her eyes shut, even when she grabbed the sides of her head rather than wrapping her arms around her middle, she could still [i]see[/i] everything. The sounds bounced around her, painting pictures of things that she hadn’t seen before. An orb of something or other under the throne. A strap-on of wood that lay on a shelf. A harness of leather under the bed. People watching, staring, from the rooftop. As she flailed about, transforming further, her dress ripped more and more. Her back arched, and it shredded. She threw her arms over her head as the membranes between her arms and middle began to form, and her bra broke. Everything was ripping away, exposing her more and more. And through it all, Damshen was fingering herself, straddling the transforming woman, dripping on her. Marking her. “Yes, that’s it. You understand now,” Damshen said. “You belong to me. No matter what happens, no matter how far you go, no matter what you do to escape…you will belong to me forever…” The bat chuckled as she moaned, and Clementine knew – somehow – that the other woman was right. Something had happened, something had shifted that put her so far below the bat that she’d never be able to get out from under her. And on some level, fearful as she was, she didn’t want to. Clementine moaned as her chest rose and fell, the heat of the transformation changing into something else. The heat moved down from her middle to her sex, and from there, through her entire crotch. It was like a dam had burst, her pleasure running out of her in streams, and she huffed and puffed, her eyes rolled back in their sockets as her cheeks burned in a humiliated blush of bliss. She was going to…going to… “NNNNGH!” Even without being touched, the transformed woman came, squirting so hard that she ripped her panties off. They were already damaged, unsalvageable, but they were broken up by that, leaving her with nothing. As her feet cracked, her toes snapping and lengthening, she felt her sense of balance shifting, her body giving in to the changes. New muscles, new tissue crept in, and she suddenly [i]knew[/i] she would be able to fly if she chose to. Gradually, she was able to roll onto her knees, panting for breath. She heard-saw Damshen moving to the shelf, heard-saw the click of the strap-on coming down, pulling free. She whimpered under her breath, knowing what was coming. Knowing, and craving it, needing it as her body still burned. She looked up as the bat woman stood before her again, this time with a wooden cock sticking out from between her legs. “You…please…” Clementine whispered, her cheeks burning with shame. “Make…make the others go away…” “Why?” Her cheeks burned as she lowered her head, still feeling the bits of fur spreading along her skin, adding to the heat of her body. She was sweating, both from the transformation and her own nervousness. [i]Why did there have to be others?[/i] she thought. [i]Why do more people have to see my…my shame?[/i] She was dripping now, dripping more than she wanted to think about. There was a part of her, a deep, shameful part, that wanted to see what it would feel like to be fucked by that strap-on. There was an even deeper part that liked what it was getting, this domination and ownership. There was something comforting in that. But there was only a tiny little piece of herself that wanted others to know, that wanted others to see. “Please…don’t let them…see me…It’s…embarrassing.” “Oh, dear…” Damshen lifted her chin, and the smaller bat looked up, her cheeks burning. Her mistress smiled. “The fact you think you have a choice…is so very delicious.” The bat woman chuckled, gently pulling her forward with clawed fingers, drawing her to kneel before the taller woman. Clementine’s cheeks were burning hotter than ever, staring at the smooth wood strap-on that was pointed right at her mouth. [i]I can’t back down from this.[/i] It was a realization that hit her right to the core. No matter how much she complained, no matter how much she struggled, there was nothing that could change her fate. She had given her freedom to this woman, this bat, this Mistress, and there was no getting it back. All she could do was serve as well as she could and hope for the best. “What…what do I do?” “Do?” Damshen chuckled. “You do nothing. Just…let me do what I want.” The strap-on pressed forward, nudging past her lips, and Clementine let it. The fact that she was being treated as even less than a person, like a doll, was not lost on her, and her cheeks burned all the hotter for it. As the wooden shaft slipped over her tongue, she felt Damshen draping something else over her, something that bound her arms to the side, that held her still for the uses of the bat. She let it happen, feeling her freedom and her resistance fading with each passing second. The further the strap-on went down her throat, the more she forgot about the people around her. The tighter she was wrapped up, the less she cared about the judgment of the world. By the time that she was completely tied up, suspended from a rod on the ceiling with her ass pointing back at her mistress, Clementine didn’t care about much anymore. [b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]