Date: Sun, 28 Oct 2018 21:24:58 +0000 From: Nicholas Nicholby Subject: Boys Guild Chapter 18, Gay, SciFi/Fantasy, Adult Youth, This story is a work of fiction. It never happened, it never will. The characters and locations are all make believe and any resemblance to any place or person, living or dead, is simply in the mind of the reader and totally unintentional. Situations and sexual activities of the characters are fantasy, don't try dragon riding at home. The story is also the first in a series of stories about Kind Draviad's Realm. Please let me know if you enjoy by email to nicholas6996 (at) hot mail dot com Copyright 2018 by Nicholas Nicholby, all rights reserved. Not to be distributed or duplicated without express written permission of the author. 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I really appreciate the reactions and comments at Nicholas6996 (at) hotmail.com Chapter 18 - Good Golly Miss Molly's Clipper heard the new voice and saw a tall slender Thing, that's the only word he could think of that fit, come through the broken doorway. "Alright! You," The Thing pointed a cadaverous finger at one thug. "Head for our stable, tell Mack to get some shits over here with shovels, brooms, handcarts, mops and some of his special clean up juice. Not the juice for red cleanup, just the normal yellow and brown cleanup. Got all that?" When the thug gave an undecidedly not-firm nod The Thing poked him in the chest, "Repeat it then..." "Uh, Mack at stable, cleanup guys, shovels, brooms, handcarts, mops special yellow and brown stuff." "Close enough, oh, and a carpenter for the door. Now go!" Turning the finger toward the other thug The Thing growled, "What the hell you still doing here? You're paid to guard the Boss, right? Well, I don't see the Boss here now, do I? So why do I still see you?" "Uh, yeah, right, gotta go to the Boss," the thug almost tripping down the stairs would have been funny to Clipper except The Thing had turned both cold dead eyes and long crooked finger towards him. Cold like the ice in the fountain in the middle of Wintermoons flowed down Clipper's chest as The Thing traced the very tip of the finger down his breastbone from beneath his chin to his birthbutton . Clipper's lance and living stones had pulled up tight and he could swear he felt the pop of all three sucking right up inside his body as the finger traced further down and pushed on his now very tiny lance head like one would push on an oozing pus filled pocket on an over ripe apple. As it squished in a bit more the cold ran right up his backbone. He felt the finger try and twiddle at his stones, but it didn't seem that they were currently available. The cold managed to find them even inside though and it was no more pleasant than the whack the Boss had given them earlier. Clipper sucked in what breath he could. It seemed nothing wanted to work right at the moment. "Be a good little one now and wait for the girls to come care for you. Let them coo and ooh and aah as much as they want, but don't fall in love now. You're special and special gets special treatment." The finger turned away and as The Thing stepped out of the room it was cackling, "Yes, treatment from the farrier, treatment from the barber, treatment from the apothecary, why you'll just die getting so many treatments..." Clipper would have wet himself but his bladder told him he had done that a few minutes ago. His brain tried to tell it that was an eternity ago, it just laughed back that time was relative. Clipper wondered when he had gained such a philosophical outlook. Clipper watched Molly arrive before the cleanup crew and as she lifted her skirts and stepped gingerly around the trash, crockery, obvious wet stains and broken furniture she clucked her tongue like a disappointed mother. "My, my, dear Mr. Fritjof has clearly lost his deposit I believe. I might be forced to increase his other rents too. Ah, there you are little dear." She reached up and with a delicate hand managed to push just right against Clipper's hands so that he began a slow spin to his left. "Well now, not too much the worse for wear... Yet... You'll clean up quite pretty I think. Could sure be boy or girl, that's a good point in your favor. Of course knowing Fritjof you'll soon enough be neither, but don't let that worry that sweet little face of yours. Sweat-Pea was it he called you? Nice enough name, don't get used to it though. Very fickle man our Mr. Fritjof, might have you chained to the floor and available to all the huntsmen or rather their dogs while calling you Fido if you make him mad. If'n I was you I'd be trying real hard to make him the happiest man around as quickly and as often as I could. That way the pain is only sometimes, you know?" Clipper was very afraid that he did in fact know. Suddenly Molly pulled out a long slim shiny knife and reached up. Clipper felt the blade slip between his hands and with a sudden push upward from Molly he found himself falling downwards into a pile around her feet. His hands were free, but the coursing pain of the blood rushing back into his fingers and his wildly spasming leg muscles at being reintroduced to gravity had him cry out. "There, there, Sweat-Pea, that ain't nothing to be crying about. Why that don't even count amongst the things you'll get the pleasure of feeling soon. Come on, let's get out of this mess before some cleanup crew decides that naked boy flesh so openly displayed deserves some attention too. Don't know what you did to gain the joy of Mr. Fritjof's affections, but we certainly don't want to disappoint him. Now overcharging him is another thing altogether. I'm thinking filth cleaning fees, 24 hour child care and room and board for one your size might just be about a gold a day. I so love the smell of money you know. Tends to wipe out all the bad smells of life. You might do well to learn that. Hmmm, maybe some of the girls can teach you a trick or two with that cute little bum too. Real money maker if you work it right." Clipper was led along by his decidedly more straggly pony tail and as he thought he might get to run once they were outside Molly turned under the stairs and went down another flight and he found himself in the frilly red and smoky world of Molly's Red Door House of Profane Orechasm. Cobar was quite happy to be back on firm ground and outside the castle walls. While the visit had been interesting the interminable walk down a thousand steps had not really endeared the Wizard to him. He'd stick to the Master Baker who seemed to have simpler tastes in life. After all, if he was going to huff and puff it was far more fun to do it kneading dough at the mixing table or buns in the confines of his little room. And Orechasm was definitely preferable to exhaustion. Still, it had been marvelous to look out and down over the town. Watching Zekial work some kind of magic with the rag of cloth was interesting too. Cobar hoped that Clipper was indeed still alive and just waiting to be discovered somewhere in the docklands. Right now Cobar was with Tomas visiting some of the other boy hovels around the town. Not all the independent boys of the town were Boy's Guild members. Many lived at artisan ateliers or workshops. Others of course had attached themselves more permanently to men like the gem merchants, the stone sculptors and the academicians. Tomas had the idea that word should get out to all the free boys both to see if there were any good ideas and as a kind of warning. From their reception it was clear that the disappearance was unsettling almost everywhere. At the Cartographers the Copy Boy had quickly volunteered a detailed map of the docks that the Watch and the Guard kept up to date. Tomas wasn't sure about all the scribbled notations around the edges and the confusing array of carefully placed letters that seemed to match some list too great to be a part of the map, but Cobar latched on to the parchment as a recipe and convinced Tomas it might be vital to the search. At the Scribes the small gaggle of boys who worked there were almost like the young ducklings during Springmoons in the market. The news of the disappearance had them running pell mell about the great work room and generally causing enough disturbance that a decidedly young Master Scribe came to see what had them so agitated. At the questioning of the scribe Tomas found he knew some answers, almost knew others but seemed to have forgotten parts, and couldn't really describe the events of the day in any logical order. The scribe singled out a boy about Tomas' size and gave him a quill, a pot of ink and a stack of semi-soiled paper and told him to go with Tomas, find a suitable place, write down everything in small arrow points and when there was time think about everything and how it tied together. The boy tried to gather everything up and kept dropping the quill or the parchment and finally the young Master Scribe took the quill and handed it to Cobar and the stack of parchment to Tomas and with a sigh gave the ink pot back to the boy. "Now go! Remember what we have been learning about reasoning. Help think it all through." The stack of supplies made Tomas think they should head back to the boys cafe and once there they found a suitably non-sticky and non-carved area of a table for the boy to be able to write. Tomas asked if he needed anything and the Scribe gapped like a fish pulled up on the dock. Cobar quickly clasped an arm around the boy, gave him a good natured hug and laughed to Tomas, "What would you need if the printer gave you some type and some ink and some paper and said `Go forth and print!'" Tomas giggled at the image but got the message that the boy might be a little overwhelmed, "Right... one small beer coming right up." It was the Hide Boy and the Apothecary's Runner who returned about then who made Tomas realize this all might be a good idea. First of all the Hide Boy watched the Scribe struggling with the papers trying to blow away and he jumped up and found a couple of stones to weight them down. He also quickly ran and came back with a large tankard, although only half full, which he held out and almost made the Scribe drink. Then he sat beside the Scribe and helped keep things organized. With the Apothecary Runner helping, the Hide Boy went through all the things the boys had mentioned earlier during the luncheon meeting. Quite quickly the verified list of things known made what Tomas now understood to be arrow points. Each item was grouped on the parchment kind of like what the printers called a cut list. The Hide Boy and the Scribe seemed to be sharing parchment shuffling duties along with shy smiles and sips from the tankard. They were ready for an onslaught of new reports. The Apothecary's runner first added some new arrow points with things he had learned: There had been a large order for a special chemical used to hide odors. The chemical was regularly ordered and used by the castle, this order had come from a stable master near the docks. One of the girls from Molly's had been in to inquire about some kind of cure that would help get over toothache. It wasn't unusual, but the Apothercary had remarked as the girl left that she had bought enough of the stuff for all the girls to have a toothache at the same time. A farrier had stopped in to see if the Apothecary had any small pincers, said he had a horse with particularly small shoe nails he needed to pull out without damaging the hoof. The Apothecary was surprised because in all his years he had never seen a farrier come into an apothecary shop. As the Runner was finishing his report one of the Stable Boys came running in to say that another stable had just rented both of their handcarts with shovels. It was unusual because it never happened. The boys picking up the carts were laughing that it must be a whole ton of horse shit down in Crab Alley to need six carts! Just in case Tomas didn't understand the Stable Boy pointed out that there were no horses used in Crab Alley as it was too winding and narrow in places. The Potter's Mudlark came to report that the Potter had just gotten an order, paid in gold!, for five dozen new tankards with the mark of Molly's Red Door. No tavern ever ordered so many at once and certainly never, ever paid up front in gold. He had to hurry back to get the clay ready but thought it was a very strange thing. One of the Goldsmith's Boys came to tell them that a girl with a red ponytail bow had been seen late at night up by the great Guild Halls. A farm boy leaving the Kingsday Market had sneaked away from his mother to tell them that a girl with a red hair bow was often seen outside the town late at night. He quickly dashed back to join his family. Tomas quickly sent a couple of boys off to the Great Guild Square to check around the taverns and inns. But after the third report came of a girl with a red bow seen on a coach leaving town that morning he quickly realized there were probably hundreds of girls and treble times that amount of red bows. He told the Scribe to note any sightings like that, but don't waste the good parchment, use a well spoiled sheet. He sighed that there were bound to be false sightings and stories. After all, everybody just wanted to help. The Scribe made his arrow points until it was too dark to see then he was happy to share some buns and small beer that the Hide Boy had managed to scrounge. He was also happy to bunk in with the Boy's Guild, he thought it would be a nice night away from the preternatural late night doings in the Scribe Hall. He did enjoy a freely given and then a freely shared Red Orechasm with the Hide Boy too. He hadn't known you could do some of the things the boy showed him. And the Hide Boy didn't really smell that much different than piles and piles of sheepskin parchment. Perhaps fresher was what went through the Scribe's mind. Clipper wasn't sure what exactly had happened in the last candle span. He had gone from tied up and very nervously threatened while in the control of oafs, brutes, and deviants and then to the monstrously menacing Thing. Now he found himself smothered under twittering, frilly, overly scented women bound and determined to bathe him, oil him, paint him, scent him, braid his hair, unbraid his hair, tease it up, comb it down all the while getting his small lance continually stroked toward yellow orechasm and then his living stones twiddled into submission and the whole thing happening all over again. He couldn't begin to count the number of times his lance rose and fell, his stones sang, sighed, bloomed and then hid. All the while the girls were laughing that such cute small things should be allowed to grow big and full. Universally they felt it was sad that they were going to be plucked. Twiddling them gave them some satisfaction that at least Sweet-Pea would have fond memories. Or at least they all told him that. Every time Clipper would begin to slip into orange or red Orechasm it seemed one of the girls would sigh sadly and loudly about such a sweet small loss. Clipper didn't think much of their mothering comforts so continuously mixing pleasure with promised pain. Especially when several of the girls began fighting over who would get to keep the stones as a reminder of their darling Sweet-Pea. Throughout the night he was passed from girl to girl as one after the other they were called away to service a client. Occasionally he was paraded before the clients waiting in what the girls called the reception hall. He was pawed, grabbed and caressed. He was stroked, rubbed and pinched. He was kissed, licked and spit upon. He was dazzled by sparkling gems, real or fake. He was drugged by smoke and small sips, of both legal and less legal substances. He was terribly afraid it was all a dream. He was even more terrified that it was not. Through it all he decidedly determined that he hated the color red. If there was any good side to being at Molly's it was that everyone, and that meant absolutely everyone, knew not to even think of disturbing the beauty sleep of the House before well late in the afternoon. Clipper's over pleasured stones eventually sent his brain off to sleep. His sleep was not restful as everyone he met in dreamland used one hand to twiddle his stones while displaying a grotesquely made other hand which always ended in knife blades and scissor tips instead of fingers. In the dawning light of Moonsday at the boy cafe Tomas had performed all his prework chores. Cobar had also filled the wood racks, fired the ovens, kneaded the baguettes, and the Master Baker, and appeared with half a dozen misshapen loaves. Everyone was pleased. The Scribe Boy had his parchments ready and his quill was well dipped. He positively glowed. The Hide Boy couldn't seem to keep both hands above the table or decide which lap needed more attention. The late comers of Kingsday night made their reports. The little band of organizers was going through the arrow points and trying to make the big connection that would put everything in place before the day was lost in work. Tomas and Cobar and others would be constrained to their workplaces, but many of the boys had a more free range job or life which allowed them time to move about the town. A few would actually be in and around the docks and they promised to be extra vigilant in seeking out the unusual happenings and any clues. Having gone off to begin his day the Weaver's Doffing Boy Sten came running back and tried to tell Tomas that one of the tailors had been all atwitter about goings on in the Kraken Arms Tavern. His excitement at learning something and the mad dash back to the cafe had him out of breath and heaving, but he was determined to get the story out between gasps. It seemed the tailor and her husband had dined out and there had been a whole lot of excitement about how there was a new girl at The Elephant's Trunk House of Profane Orechasm or perhaps it had been Molly's. A couple of men had come in and excitedly whispered to a couple of other men and soon there was a small stream of men coming and going. When the wife had demanded to know what was happening her husband had gone over and talked to the other men. He reported back that there had been free ale for an hour that night and it was too bad his wife had noticed the commotion so late. Well she was no fool as she would have the other ladies agree, she knew an hour of free ale might be excitement but it wouldn't make men whisper and leave and return in small groups. It had to be a new girl! Why it was just a crime what an upstanding housewife had to put up with in the way of competition and to have new girls, and probably foreign girls with strange ways, cropping up at all times of the year was just too much. One of the other tailors agreed wholeheartedly and added that she had heard her stable men talking about just such a girl arriving just last night at the Long Stick Inn. The positively lewd way they were giggling and poking each other should certainly be against the law. She didn't want to try and imagine what the men could have been talking about as they made scissor motions around their ..., well you know, down there, she had blushed. Sten grabbed a bite of baguette and headed back to the weaver's before he was found missing. It wasn't about thirty candle drips later and the Apothecary Runner came with the added news that the three girls who routinely picked up the No-Baby tincture for the Elephant's Trunk, the Long Stick and Molly's had been whispering and laughing and shrieking and giggling about something and it seemed the heart of the story was being told by Molly's girls. Other reports of Clipper himself being seen at different locations were noted. The reporters were thanked, but no one gave the sightings much credence. After all, a free and healthy Clipper would have undoubtedly delivered a message at the least. Jaxx still ran off to try the different places to see for himself. There were new reports of sightings, one report of a dead body which turned out to be a hog that seemed to have fallen overboard on one of the ships. Some old hairy drunk had a weird tale of a little girl tied to a wire in a back room in Crab Alley. The boys with the pushcarts had been talking about the mass of broken crockery and filth they hauled away from behind Molly's. One of them had sneaked up the stairs to see how much more was coming, he had seen some kind of monster directing the crew in mopping around some foul smelling stuff on the floor. He had grabbed a red ribbon that had been in the debris, thought it might make his little girlfriend drop her panties in ecstasy. He claimed he had already celebrated by rubbing one Orange Orechasm out. His buddies all laughed that they bet the only other Orechasm he'd get for his efforts would also be by his own hand. More goings on at the Elephant's Trunk and the Long Stick indicated that where ever there were masses of girls there seemed to be unending gossip. As the day's work actually began Tomas was glad it was Moonsday and the hellbox was empty. He could hardly concentrate and he knew he would have mixed his Ps and Qs terribly. Still his distraction wasn't unnoticed and the Master Printer called him over for a chat. Once the Master had heard the story he first allowed that a missing thief might be almost as good as a dead thief, but seeing Tomas' pained expression he softened. Reaching in the cash drawer he withdrew two pennies and gave them to him with instruction to buy the committee a small beer and get on with the searching, the Devil's job could wait for the morrow. Tomas gave the Master a thank you hug and raced out the back to see what was new. The Scribe Boy greeted him with a profusion of excitement, "Tomas look," he was breathlessly shuffling parchment and the map all at the same time. "We correlated the evidentiary observations and plotted the multitude of cross references while deprecating the obfuscating spurious extraneous datum. Then we gridded the resulting potentially authentic instances and charted the relevant conditional phraseology while superimposing the aerial viewpoint for ease of comprehension. Our estimations of horological progressions indicated a definitive spiraling locus of convergence." Tomas stood with his jaw dropped and his mind puzzling somewhere back at `Tomas look...' A grinning Cobar clapped the Scribe Boy on the back with his left hand and pushed the Hide Boy forward with his right. When the Hide Boy seemed about to melt at being the center of attention Cobar grabbed his hand and planted the index finger on the map, "Yeah, they did really good work. Tell him," Cobar gave the Hide Boy a look. "Uh look Tomas, we marked stuff on the map," the Hide Boy managed to come out with. Now that Tomas could understand and he was fascinated by what the map showed. Tomas and Cobar agreed and the Hide and Scribe Boys demurred to their greater experience that obviously something was up in the Houses. While Clipper might be attractive to some men they couldn't see there being enough interest to make men leave a tavern just for a look see. Aside from the tailors story of the husbands there was nothing more from the men at the various taverns. The boys felt that it would be smart to investigate at the Wild Elephant and the Long Stick, but the map clearly showed the circle of all the evidence was spiraling in and pointed to Molly's. It was past dusk and the littlest boys were stumbling into the sleeping shelves. The Hide Boy and the Scribe were gathering the parchments and things and giggling off toward the Sleeping shelf. Tomas and Cobar were now bolstered by Zekial and they headed for the Kraken Arms. The day was just beginning for the dockside taverns and the Houses of Profane Orechasm.