Whoremonger 
by Nikholas "Switch" F. Toledo
Character design and events based upon Ranma 1/2 by Rumiko Takahashi
No discredit or disfavor is intended upon anyone.

Book II

Chapter One

	This was the point of the year when the rain could not dull the 
neon signs.  The first day after the wet springtime was always the day 
when the bars would shine brightest.  The low-life usually found there, 
though, wouldn't care less.  They were there for the broads, the booze 
and nothing more.
	A coated figure next to a relatively low-skirted young thing led 
the way through the dirty sidewalks of a seedier street in the lower 
Downtown of an obviously Oriental town, and without much fuss made their 
way to a four-story building.  On the way to the large red door, a good 
assortment of curves not-quite blocked their way.  
	"You want sex?"  the tightly-clothed busty woman made her thighs be 
known to the coated figure.  The figure made a motion for the largish 
pagoda-like structure behind her.  "That place OK."
	A small cough was heard from behind the coat.  The smiling woman 
with purple hair said, "Threesome okay, too."  While the other woman 
could only blush, Shampoo took the other person by the collar, saying, 
"anything for regular, paying customer," loud enough for anyone within 
earshot.
	The heavy red doors immediately closed after they went in, the rest 
of the way to be navigated by the Chinese woman, to a set staircase 
behind a set of curtains.  Making their way quickly, they went three 
flights up to a set of glass doors.  These slid before the entering trio, 
into an elegantly decorated harem-hall.  Before them, a figure in a 
somber Chinese robe with a fiery horse sewn across it with a braid tied 
which fell down to the small of his back.
	The whoremonger.
	Waving a hand, he dismissed the Amazon, who in turned blurred out 
of sight.  With another wave, he beckoned the two other entrants.  
	"Nabiki," he said simply.
	The coated individual simply nodded, barely perceptible through the 
coat.
	"And this," he continued until he turned.
	"Is Akane" was her reply.
	"I take it that the arrangements have been made."
	Through the glasses that the twenty-something man wore, his blue 
eyes twinkled with a low humor.  "Yes, oneesan."
	"Then I will take my leave."  She wasn't much for talk, after all.
	The man snapped his fingers, summoning a slight man in another 
Chinese robe, who accompanied the coated woman through the glass door.  
This left the girl with the man who sold women. 

	In the ground floor of the Sorrowful Springs, a man in his late 
twenties tried to get a conversation going with a bored-looking hooker.
	"I've got it here," he said, not quite indicating something the 
public was not quite privy to.  
	"Yeah, yeah," she just replied.  She couldn't yawn.
	"I've seen the world, been places, y'know," his slurred speech 
could not keep his thought in.           
	"Listen, buddy," the hooker chimed in, "it looks like you'd need to 
rest that."
	The man edged close enough to pass his hand on her thigh, "that's 
what I've been trying to get you to say, baby."        
	A slight-looking man passed into the room from the outer door.  A 
shared glance passed between them.
	She took him by the waist which much more force than would be 
expected.  "Sure, honey.  We're going up, see?"
	"Yeah," he said drowsily.  He nodded off.
	The hooker let go of the shiatsu spot which she had used to knock 
him unconscious.  Out of the larger room, she had exchanged hands with 
the slight man, who then took the inebriated wanderer to the stairs and 
up.

	The young girl knew of the reputation the man before her held, but 
held herself.  She was being sold by her sister to this man like a kilo 
of meat, and the only thing she could do was go along.
	They lived in a dangerous world, her sister and this man.  She knew 
that Nabiki protected her from it the only way she knew how.
	The Providence clan had been well-off in their district of lower 
Downtown when the brash young man known as the Whoremonger entered the 
picture.  He started slow, and held his own in the turf.  A few of the 
ring heads turned his way and fell, as one by one they tried to take over 
the rising fist of the Wild Horse.  He could not be raided;  it was as 
though he controlled an army of trained assassins through his paycheck.  
Those of course that did not try to go against him, soon found themselves 
losing their own wenches to his charms.
	That was what her sister told her, that the man could take any 
woman, whore, socialite or ring-leader, and make her fall in love with 
him.  They of course meant nothing to him, but they all left to be with 
him, to be in his harem.
	
	The whoremonger took a look at his newest acquisition with a 
critical eye.  She had the skin of youth, white and rosy.  He beckoned 
her to him.
	After a moment, she took a step toward him.  He took her 
forcefully, and kissed her full on the mouth.  He tasted of power and 
control.  She thought to bite his tongue as it assaulted her, and 
explored every crevice of her mouth, but she did not.
	He broke the kiss.  She took a step back, breathing heavily, 
spitting out the taste of him as it stuck to her.
	He pulled her to him, with a grip of pure iron.	 She shrieked now, 
and her shout echoed from the walls of the room.  He laughed, a low 
chuckle.  They were alone.
	He turned her around, and pushed her to the cushions on the floor.  
He was all over her, his hands on her breasts, on her buttocks, trying to 
find its way up her skirts.  She beat against his chest as he tried to 
lay himself upon her, and tried to squirm away as he ripped away her 
blouse.
	She shrieked again, as he bit on the nipple of an exposed breast.  
The pain was spreading through to her chest, and she convulsed.  He held 
her torso down and was undoing the catches of her skirt.  She was 
breathing heavily, partly from the screaming, partly from her body's 
reactions.
	His right hand found its way up to her other breast and started to 
tease it, pinching the nipple.  She felt it harden, much to her horror, 
as her skirt fell away to reveal white panties.  Her throat started to 
constrict as he started to force her legs to spread open.  Her arms tried 
to keep her legs closed and to keep his head from her upper body, but he 
only continued to tease her nipple and her upper calves.  He was licking 
the nipple in his mouth, and was tracing circles on her left breast, 
while he stroked her inner thigh with his free hand.
	She felt herself tense as his free hand pulled on the crotch of her 
panties, and desperately covered the flesh beneath with both her hands, 
leaving his head to do its full work on her breast.
	It was an error;  he placed his lower body firmly in between her 
legs, in such a way that the lower end of his ribcage locked her hands in 
place.  He quickly slid both of his hands onto her buttocks, and began to 
jerk his upper body to press her hands upon herself, building a rhythm, 
all the while kneading her breasts with his lips, and her butt with his 
hands.
	Her sweat mingled with his saliva, as he started to increase the 
tempo of his movements, pressuring her hands over and over again over her 
sex.  Her mouth opened, with lips quivering, as she was aware, without 
actually knowing, that the tension that was building was going to break 
down her will.
	He felt her body shake, in her pelvis, and he took a look to see 
that she was focussed, and not willing to release without a fight.  A 
rage was growing that tempted to burst aflame in sync with her body.  He 
grinned toothily.
	He stopped, at the end of a thrust.  His body lay upon hers, 
unmoving.
	She felt her fingers straighten and flatten under his chest.  She 
couldn't figure what has happened to her assailant, as she tried hard to 
choke down the bile that was whetting her lips.
	She tried to take her hands from her soiled panties, as soon as her 
labored breathing became manageable.  She noticed then that no breath 
came from either his nostrils or his mouth, as they were upon her 
cleavage.  Same as with his chest, which did not heave on top of her 
nether regions.  His fingers felt no less cold under her.
	As she had loosened her grip upon herself, she dared to look into 
his face.
	He opened his eyes.
	She screamed.  He clamped a hand over it, and deflected a blow from 
an oncoming arm.  When she tried to use her other arm, he roughly threw 
her to a side.
	"Bastard," she could only mutter, as she tried to get up.  
Obliquely aware of her undress, she stood on wobbly legs.  He was already 
up, and quickly took her arms from behind her.
	"You," he hissed into her ear, "are mine."

	He woke up in a dark room.  Aware only of a hangover that promised 
to swallow Tokyo, he assessed his position:  he was partly on a bed, with 
his legs bent and supported by the edge on his buttocks, he was 
completely immobilized by fastenings on all appendages, which were 
stretched fully, and a gag with stuffing in his mouth.  Worse yet, he was 
completely naked.
	"Damn," he wanted to mutter.
	He was testing how far he could get his left foot out from under 
the bed when he saw the silhouette.  "Easy, easy," he heard the voice, 
deep and silky.  "I'm a professional."
	He shook with maddened ire, before a hand took him by the balls, in 
a light squeeze.  His prick slightly responded to the chill he felt, 
tipping upward.  "Don't worry;  I'll just bill you."
	The hand that squeezed his balls cupped them, and a mouth started 
to moisturize them, licking them delicately.  
	He tried to ensnare his assailant's head with his thighs, but found 
that whatever had caught his knees would not give.  A slight quiver came 
from his inner thighs as the unknown mouth engulfed his testes.
	He sweated;  his fate was in between a set of teeth which 
acquainted themselves with his scrotal sac, in a soft way.  His dick 
betrayed no sense of danger;  not quite stiff, it flagged slightly upward 
some more.
	Lips scoured his infant flesh, and as he tried to put down his 
increasing libido, a soft yet rough palm grazed over his glans penis.  He 
let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, which his partner 
acknowledged by departing his testicles with a smiling kiss and a small 
*pop*.
	The hand returned to his cock, tracing the edge of his glans, then 
trailed along the protruding vein of its shaft, down to the base of his 
crotch.  He couldn't see it, but he felt the head below him right itself 
between his legs.
	He felt a cold gust through his crotch, followed by a hot, moist 
breath on his sensitive head.  Jerking upward, he felt his pelvis spasm, 
as several bodily functions reacted as one.  It was taking all his 
willpower not to just give in.
	His butt left the bed, and was grasped severely by two hands.  They 
felt warm, and served to keep his pelvis in the air.
	His lover kissed his dickhead, sending warm sweat tingling up his 
spine.  The tongue returned, teasing it, playing along its orifice, and 
as it started to grow, under its hat.  He was starting to lose his breath 
again, in deep blasts, and feared that his gag might choke him, as he 
recognized the pattern.
	As he expected, the mouth surrounded the tip of his penis, but only 
slightly, as if to kiss it.  The texture sent absolute shivers up and 
down his whole body, and an drop extracted itself through the orifice.
	Shit, he thought, knowing full well that he was going to lose it, 
and that he wasn't going to be able to enjoy it, at all.  His fingers 
started to curl above his head.
	The tongue in the mouth which stopped to hover over his prick 
licked at the fluid.  "Ohhh... not yet, dear.  Tsk tsk."  The hands 
squeezed his butt belatedly.  He started to tremble;  it was going to be 
messy.
	He suddenly got swallowed whole;  the mouth started sucking 
greedily, forcing his dick to go taut.  Blood started to rush from his 
temples, and the air was coming faster and thinner to his lungs.  The 
head started a furious pumping motion, over and over, relentlessly 
pitting tongue and shaft and head and cheek, sucking and blowing and 
losing air, and all becoming black....

	Tatewaki Kuno leaned back in a recliner across his varnished wooden 
desk.  He put up both feet, and put out the cigarette he was puffing.  
	So, Nabiki Tendo paid a visit to the Whoremonger, not with a batch 
of sluts, but with a single one.  One of the merger chits, perhaps?  A 
virgin sacrifice?  There were things going on between these two clans, 
and he was getting to the bottom of it.  He pulled out another cigarette.
	No one moves in on Kuno territory.

Next up:  Chapter Two.