Looking for Trouble
The "lower districts" of High Charity were home to a variety of creatures. Although Jiralhanae made up the vast majority, there were still prominent numbers of Sangheili, shamed from mistakes or past actions and no longer able to live in proper districts. They were why Jul was here. The close proximity to Brutes was...unpleasant, to be sure. The stench of them. The loud, boisterous roars that echoed through every corner of the district. But for a few more men aboard her ship, she would endure. The San'Shyuum called her heretic, for she did not support this...this Covenant. Indeed, Shipmistress Jul Vadamee did not support the idea of the noble Sangheili rubbing shoulders with the San'Shyuum, allowing Unggoy into their squads, and worse of all, giving the Brutes anything less than extermination. But she supported her people, and she knew that, deep down, her people supported her and her mission.
Here in the lower district; where Sangheili that spoke a bit too much against the rising position of the Jiralhanae could find himself blacklisted, where a Sangheili could find himself branded a traitor if he put the lives of his men before this ridiculous idea of a Great Journey, it was these Sangheili that bolstered the ranks of her so called "heretics".
She wore a minor's armor, and had gone as far as to darken her skin with a cream (as lighter skin was one common aspect of female Sangheili). Lifts on the soles of her feet, and padded armor increased her build, but a keen observer would undoubtedly see her for what she was. Fortunately, the Brutes were so dense they would never be able to tell. She passed them on the street with only a few growls and snorts passed between them. The Unggoy only saw a Sangheili, not a male or a female, so she was in no danger of one picking out who she really was. The Kig-Yar did not care. And any Sangheili who saw her...well, that's what she was hoping for. She was hoping a disgruntled or disenfranchised might notice her slender build, and realize who she was. And though some might report her and she would have to make a speedy escape, history told her that far more would be intrigued. They would talk to her. Perhaps speak to her about joining, to fight the real enemies of the Sangheili. She would have her men, one way or another.
She walked to a tavern that was frequented by Sangheili. Any that had yet to drink themselves into a permanent stupor were eager to fight for a worthy cause. But as she stepped through the door, she was greeted with a surprise. The tavern was filled with Brutes. Youths with their dark fur. Captains with their bragging war stories. Even a chieftain or two. Although they did not appear any different than the more veteran Brutes, it was the way they stood, the way they sat, the way they made their orders to the old Sangheili bartender or the Unggoy waiters. Jul had taught herself to pick out chieftain based on how they moved more than their armor. Several of her targets had tried to fool her eye by dressing as minors, but she always got her mark.
She took a seat towards the back of the tavern, and when a squat, chubby Unggoy came over to take her order, she asked for a glass of fine Sangheili spirit. The Unggoy waddled away rather cutely, Jul found herself smiling. She did not mind Unggoy, truth be told. They knew their place, they were not unpleasant on the ears or the eyes or nose, save the occasional whiff of methane. Though she did not allow any Unggoy to serve on her ship, that was more because she did not think that combat was a proper place for them, rather than any real animosity. She would be fine to leave them on their planet. She did not like the thought of Sangheili serving with them though. Someday, if she ever retired, perhaps she would have a squat little Unggoy as her maid.
She waited several minutes. The Unggoy came, and she sipped her drink, and when it was empty, the chubby Unggoy came again and brought her another. Keeping a mental clock, it was fifteen minutes later that, at her side, came a furry wall. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of the Brute. Her mandibles clenched. Her grip on the cup tightened and clenched, and a moment later it had shattered. She glared, unable to control her expression, as her eyes looked up to the Brute.
"You shouldn't be here," he said deeply.
She tilted back in her seat, and looked past the furry giant and to the Unggoy. "Another," she said softly.
At this, the Brute slammed a fist down on the table. Jul looked to him. Young, with the brown fur of youth, and a pair of stunning green eyes. A musculature that put some of his cousins to shame, most likely because he was still young. And yet he had the stance, the mannerism, the self-entitled authority of a chieftain. Speaking to her like this...it was only several deep breaths that kept her from using the shattered shards of the cup to slit his throat, which she was positive she could do. When the Unggoy did not come, she lifted a hand, which was abruptly slapped out of the air.
"This is your only warning," he said lowly. "Leave before there is trouble."
And the great furry giant stomped off, to take his seat at the bar, and resume his drink.
Jul casually brought the hand that had been slapped out of the air into her lap, rubbing it softly. That had really hurt. The Unggoy waddled over and placed the cup onto the table. "Unggoy," she said softly, and lowered down to his level. The Unggoy turned his little head. "Who is that Brute?'
"That is Chieftain Kritius, ma'am."
"Kritius..." she said softly. She stroked under her mandibles, at her chin, before sitting back and taking a soft breath. A few more minutes passed. She waited impatiently; every time the door opened she lifted her head, hopeful, but almost every time a Brute stomped inside. The only times it wasn't a Brute was when it was some Kig-Yar pirate. Jul sighed. What a waste of a day. She paid the Unggoy, and headed out as silent and quick as she had come. Sometimes, she would smuggle weapons in to High Charity. It was never something advisable, but when she could manage, she would assassinate a chieftain or one of the San'Shyuum that supported them. But with all that had been happening in recent times, security had become more strict. She had barely entered the city with false credentials, and though she might procure a weapon from smuggler, it just didn't seem worth it. Truth be told, she was just depressed. She had come hoping for one more, just one, addition to her crew. And she had failed.
She was still observant of her surroundings. This was a bad district, after all, and even if they did not know she was a female, a Sangheili in a predominantly Brute area...there were dangers. Especially unarmed. Two Brutes left the tavern mere moments after her. She heard the door slam and out of the corner of her eye watched as one gestured to the other, telling him which direction she had fled in. She was fleeing, as much as she didn't enjoy admitting it. But two Brutes, in a Brute district, and her without a weapon.
Still, she was confident in her speed. And her agility. They wouldn't act as if they were chasing her, lest some observant Sangheili male come across her and provided her with protection. But...there just were no Sangheili here. It was troubling, in some vague and confusing way, one that Jul could not quite place. She looked behind herself slowly, and noticed that the Brutes were still following her. Still, she had nothing to worry about. They were several steps behind her. And if they drew closer, she could sprint back to the upper areas where a Sangheili was safe. But that need did not seem likely. After all, they were keeping their distance. They probably just wanted to scare her. She was dressed as a minor after all. They probably just wanted to scare her.
Then she crashed into something massive and furry. The weight of the "wall" was so great, she actually fell back onto her rump and landed hard. A soft groan escaped her lips, but before she could recover something strong had taken her around the throat, and threw her against the wall. The grip on her throat stayed there, swiftly compressing her airway and suppressing whatever scream she might have let out. Her eyes burst open, and she saw that a massive Brute was holding her up. Cream tan fur, burning golden eyes, and a hand that was large enough to swallow her entire neck. She squirmed and fought, but a punch was brought into her stomach, and she gasped and whined for air. The two Brutes who had been following her hustled closer, and the three Brutes gave loud grunts and growls as they spoke.
"I told you it was a woman," said one. "I could smell it." A finger stroked her face. "Look at this. What did she do, douse herself in oil? Fool. Should have worried about her scent."
"No one ever said the Sangheili were that bright," laughed another.
The third, the one that held her, dropped her to the ground. Jul slunk low against the wall, groaning, holding her stomach. She'd been punched by Brutes before, but that didn't make it any easier. She sucked in a breath, trying to use the air to clear the purple blotches in her vision as the Brutes discussed something above her, but she did not care about that. A hand swept over her stomach and chest. Her cuirass had been damaged by the punch, for the Brute's fist was the size of her whole torso. Her stomach and abs were aching, but she didn't think anything was broken.
"I get her first."
Jul lifted her head at those words. She looked up to the Brute with the golden eyes, the one that had strangled her, the oldest, she would guess, but the trio were still fairly young. He was massive, she was like a child staring up at her uncle. The Brute touched his belly, and then down to his sheath. Jul followed the movement until she came face to crotch with him. His other hand came to find Jul's head, and slowly moved her forward, as the black head of the Brute's penis emerged from its housing.
"W-what are you doing?!" Jul demanded. She lifted her hands and braced them on the Brute's muscular thighs, using all her upper body strength to hold him at bay. "S-stop... Stop!"
"Silence," came the giant's voice, followed by soft laughter, as he pulled her closer and closer, as her vision became only the wall of the Brute's inflating stomach, and then the musky pubic fur. The hot tip of his black shaft touched her mandibles. She opened them to scream, but she found her mouth suddenly filled with a girth of warm, pulsating flesh. Shock and confusion quickly succumb to a sense of revulsion, and genuine fear. Jul did not fear death. She believed that if she died, she would be accepted into the arms of her ancestors long passed. But...but this... And bile climbed her throat at the taste of the skin. Her mandibles splayed wide, less they break at the socket from the girth that was being forced inside her. She constantly closed them, to try and keep the girth from coming in any more, but the vastly superior strength of the Brute allowed him to pull her head on, putting her mouth over more and more.
By the rings...this...this wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.
She clenched her jaw tight, trying to bite the organ, but Sangheili mandibles were not very good at biting. They were meant for tearing, but to tear, she would need to properly move her head, and the grip never left her. The most she could hope for was slight relief each time he paused and caught his breath, but after that came aanother thrust, another pull. The engorged erection, by the rings how big was this Brute? How...how could this be happening? She had come into this district before, always careful, always vigilante. She had recruited men sometimes, other times went back empty handed, and the Brutes may have been loud and obnoxious, but never this brazen. They never had the balls for something like this. What had changed?
A bulge had formed in Jul's throat, clearly depicting the engorged head of the Brute's erection as it sank deeper and deeper down into her. The covering over her skin suit seemed ready to tear, with how much her throat was forced to stretch. The Brute lifted onto his toes, while pushing her down a bit better. That allowed him to better angle his erection, and with disturbing ease it slid deeper and deeper down Jul's throat. She started to gag and cough. What little air she could suck in was tainted with the musky pubic fur. She wanted to close her eyes, but something kept them open. She stared, transfixed at the approaching pubic fur, knotted and mucky with oils, cream and cum. When her nose brushed the tips of the hair, she nearly vomited, but the girth was tight in her throat and she could not even manage that. One final pull, and her snout was pressed up against the Brute's crotch. Her hands clawed and scratched at the furry, muscular thighs of the Brute, but she did not have that strong an upper body, certainly not strong enough to match the Brute's strength.
The girth in her throat and mouth pulsed suddenly, somehow widening even more, and a moment later a warm splash had pumped directly into her stomach. A horrible sensation ran through her. Her throat muscles contracted, the thousands of taste buds lining the inside flesh assaulted with the awful taste of Jiralhanae cum. She gagged and shook violently, bile meeting the cum halfway, but unable to vomit, she could only drink it all back down. She would have drown in the awful concoction had the Brute, holding her head, not yanked back. Her teeth ripped a few scratches in the thick flesh, but that did not stop the Brute from hoisting his erection up and pumping himself. Splash after splash struck Jul, who could only lift her hands pitifully and curl into a ball, as the foul wetness rained upon her, and out of her mouth, bile, drool and seed all splashed out of her mandibles.
"My turn."
Jul felt herself lifted up. One of the Brutes took hold of her, belly to belly, and wrapped his massive arms around her middle, squeezing her tight to his chest. The other, she craned her neck to look back at him, and saw him draw a knife. She whimpered and squirmed in the grip, out of instinct, for if her rational mind was in control she would have welcomed death. She expected the blade to plunge into her spine, tear down, gut her like the Brutes were known to do to their prisoners. But instead only the tip traced down the small of her back, and over her rump. The smallest bit of pressure in the cleft of her buttocks opened the skin suit enough for the Brute's horny fingers to pull it wide. Soon enough, her skin was exposed to the cold air.
Tears filled Jul's eyes. She did not want this. She did not want to be raped by a pack of Brutes. She screamed, long and loud, and looked up to the heavens for rescue. But even if some set of ears heard her, no one came. Even if a passing Sangheili heard her, how could he distinguish hers from the squeals of an Unggoy or the cries of a Kig-Yar?
She could not see the approaching girth, as her rapist was now behind her, so she was taken by surprise when the throbbing girth poked at her vent. A whimper ran through her, and in the arms of her second captor, she looked to him. Fear replaced whatever trace of pride she might have had left. Survival was her only thought, and she would not survive this. "Please," she whimpered lowly. "Please, by the gods, please...not this. Not like this."
Laughter, cruel and hard, and her captor's body shook with glee. "Do you hear that? She's crying."
The Brute behind took hold of her hips, and he pushed himself in slowly. His length brushed down her crack and against her pucker, with a wiggle of the hips he managed to work just his tip into her tight vent. A sobbing choke emerged from her throat. Tears continued to stream down her face, flowing freely and without shame.
"Be careful with her. I want my turn," snorted the third Brute, the one who held her against his chest.
The Brute behind gave a sudden thrust, and Jul gave a hissing scream. He followed the thrust with a series of wiggles and shakes of his hips, each time working himself fractions of an inch deeper, until it felt like she was completely full. But the Brute was not even half done, and hands firmly on her middle, he pulled her back. The puckered skin of her hole stretched to its limit, until she felt she would tear in half, and still the Brute found more girth to feed inside her.
"Finish up, damn it!" snarled the third. "I'm not going to fuck a corpse."
Jul felt the huge girth inside rip out. It was like tearing off her own arm, so great was the tightness and pressure, and it left her feeling so weak the Brute that held her needed to take on her full weight. Behind her, second Brute whined and gave pitiful moans, until Jul felt a splashing on her bare rump, and a sweep of sickening revulsion went through her. The Brute worked himself and stroked, and milked out a great tide of seed that stained her lower half. The Brute that held her, not wanting to get himself dirty, instead dropped her to the ground, and left the second to climax over her. Just as before, all she could manage was to curl into a ball, to whimper and scream and cry as the tide splashed over her. It was heavy, and thick, and weighed her down. It covered her so fully, she thought she would drown in it. Good. By now she would welcome death.
"What is going on here?" came a deep, roaring voice. Somehow Jul could lift her head enough to peer between a pair of Brute legs and look forward. That Brute she had seen before, in the bar. Kritius. He was coming to her. She sighed, and cried softly. To make her descent completely, surely a chieftain should have his way with her. He would...he would take her like a proper mate would. He would climax inside her. He would fill her. And then he would slit her throat.
"Hello Kritius. Would you care for a turn?"
The green eyed Brute looked down to the broken female, still curled into a tight ball. A growl escaped his lips. "What have you idiots done..."
There was trio of snorts, and confused faces.
"What do you think the Sangheili will do when they learn that you raped one of their women? She could be a concubine, a heretic, and they would still come down upon us with the full weight of the Covenant. They will threaten the San'Shyuum with their resignation if every Jiralhanae on this city is not clubbed to death, and the San'Shyuum, even those that support us, will turn their back. Have you even thought of that for a moment? All that we have worked for, clawing our way to our present rank, and everything we could achieve, stolen because a trio of morons couldn't keep their hormones under control! All that we might ever have, lost because of a pair of youths who haven't even learned to suppress their scents!"
Jul lifted her head. She blinked seed out of her eyes and looked forward to see the green eyed chieftain take hold of another's skull, and swinging his own skull forward, headbutted one of the trio. A sickening crack resonated through the alleyway. The second of the trio charged, but was met with a massive right cross that knocked him onto his back. The third received an uppercut to the stomach, and as he reeled forward, Kritius took his head under his arm. The chieftain arched his back, pulling the neck tight, until the struggling body he held went taught and then still. When one of the Brutes attempted to get to his feet, he was met with a stomp to the skull that cracked him like an egg. For the third, the chieftain took him around the throat with both hands, and lifted him off the ground. Two hands on his throat, pressed against the wall, he was left to slowly strangle as the chieftain growled and snarled.
Jul watched the feet of the chieftain approach. She felt one of his hands brush her, then recoil as he felt the still warm seed. Swallowing his gorge, he gathered the Sangheili into his arms, then over his shoulder. His home must have been close by, because after mere minutes of the walking, Jul found herself inside. He brought her to the bathroom, and dropped her into the tub, before turning on the water. She closed her eyes and cringed at the stream. The hot, high pressure washed away the sickening stench of the Brute love, as well as whatever makeup was left over her face and hands. Eventually it stopped, and she was picked up under the arms, shaken until dry, and then brought into the bedroom. On the bed, she watched the chieftain retrieve a knife, and go about the careful process of cutting her out of her armor. He was rather careless with her. She felt any number of slices and bites over her body, but kept her whimpers to a minimum, not wanting to give him the pleasure. Disposing of armor in the incinerator, he took hold of her by the jaw and lifted her to his eyes. His snout eclipsed her vision, and he took in several deep sniffs and breaths. She was a rag doll to him. She was limp as he shifted her in his grip and sniffed or stared at her now nude body.
The sickening exploration ended, and she was left alone. She heard the shower running again, in the other room. She looked her nude body over, and realized she did not have the strength to get up. So she waited, and when the Brute came back out, fur now damp, he gathered her into his thick arms and brought her into the bath once more. Setting her down, he drew a bath, and when it was done, took up a cloth to clean her.
"Why are you doing this," she whimpered. "Just kill me. By the rings, I beg of you. Just kill me. If you have any mercy, if you any soul given to you by the Forerunners...please...rape me, and devour me, but just let me die before the next rise of the sun."
"If I kill you, I will have a body to dispose of," he snorted lowly. "And if you told anyone you were coming here, your brothers will come and investigate. I do not want that to befall us."
Jul sighed weakly. "What? You aren't going to kill me once you are done playing?"
"No. And you will not talk about what happened. For as much as you may hate us, you would not tarnish your name with your own admission. If you tell any of your brethren about this, imagine the shame you will bring upon your house. Imagine the stares you and your kin, your line will forever be shamed with, because you. Because of your weakness. Because you allowed a pack of Brutes to have their way with you. Your brothers may give you kind words and avenge this crime, but they will forever stare. And you and your line, even if you take your own life, will forever be tainted with shame."
Jul's mandibles clenched. She swallowed weakly. The taste of Brute musk was still on her taste buds. It was a taste she was not sure would ever leave her. She closed her eyes slowly, and tears rolled down her cheeks.
The Brute brushed the cloth over her chest. His hand dipped down, and he lifted her up. The hand with the cloth brushed beneath her, between her buttocks and earned a low cry. Everywhere the cloth left, the burning of a thousand lacerations was left on her skin. When she was relatively clean, at least enough that the stench of Brute was no longer upon her, the chieftain's hands dipped into the water, and pulled her out. He took her to the bed, and dried her with a towel, then placed her under the covers. His grip found her mandibles and tightened, and though she tried shaking her head free, tried even biting him, his skin was far too thick. "Listen to me careful, whelp. You'll stay here the night and gather your strength. Tomorrow, I will escort you out of this district. You will never speak of what happened. You will never see me again. Do you understand?"
She gave a nod, tears in her eyes. Just to have this over. Have this nightmare at an end.
The Brute dropped her head. Actually, he threw her back, and her head bounced off the pillow. "Sleep now. I'll be in the other room. If you try to leave in the night, if you try to contact anyone on the outside, I will kill you and feed your body to a pack of rabid Unggoy, consequences be damned. Do you understand?"
Another series of stiff nods, and she was left alone in the room. It was a long time until she settled down. Her throat hurt. Her insides hurt. She settled down slowly, and checked if she had the strength to pull the covers a bit higher. She did. Weakly, she set her head down, and closed her eyes, and drifted off to a sleep of nightmares.