A/N: If you don't like whippings, sexual themes and rape, this chapter is NOT for you.
Anette swung from the rope.
She was bound tightly with the rope, around her mid-section keeping her arms to her back. She did not like how she was suspended like a piñata.
Currently she had been kicking and screaming with rage for a little while. It did not help her however escape.
She knew she was in some sort of ware house, the rope being tied to a metal pole above her that helped support the ceiling. The place was dark, there was stairs at the wall and nothing else so it appeared.
Then the door at the top of the stairs opened.
Several mice were stalking down the stairs. She recognized their hunched shapes, their hats, and their snickering to not be a good sign.
There were four. Two were thick and big, one was small and wiry, and the other was the one that had accompanied her on the bicycle-kidnapping probably an hour ago. They set a lamp on a box in the corner putting the room into light.
Her angry energy flickered. Now she felt shy and utterly terrified again.
"Hello little gypsy bitch…" The leader purred. The mice were circling her, licking their lips. She wriggled a bit, feeling nervous.
"Don't you think Ratigan won't like it if you beat me up?" She nervously asked, turning her head this way and that to see that the mice were coming closer.
"I'm sure he'd let us do that to you after he's done with you…but we can't wait till later." The leader mouse drew out a switchblade, tilting his green cap away. He truly looked like the sort of fellow that would be very, very mean to women and innocents.
"What're going to do to me?" Anette gulped as she said this. She felt on of the large mice's breath on her neck.
The leader mouse zipped over in front of her, the blade under her chin. She squirmed and clenched her teeth, looking into his vicious lusting eyes.
"We're going to cut up your pretty little gypsy knickers, dolly. What do ya think we were going to do? Kill you?" He gave a bucktoothed smirk as he twirled the blade in his hand. "There's use outta you yet wench."
She let out a squeak as the two bigger mice started laughing; grabbing her arms and sides to hold her still. She started to kick, scream, anything to avoid any more rape in her life.
"I've been used too m-many times! W-why can't you l-leave me alone?!" She wailed as the leader descended his knife to her thighs.
"You're already a whore!" He snarled as he pushed her skirt up. "It wouldn't hurt again…you'll be working for the boss in no time at all either!"
She cringed as she felt the cold blade stroke her legs.
"He told you not to TOUCH HER!" The familiar high voice of Mickey Finn called.
She let out a sigh of relief as the mice let go of her. The leader scowled and lowered his cap, turning to face the small but powerful figure at the top of the stairs.
"We were just having some fun…" He chuckled. The other mice scowled, leaving Anette to catch her breath and to suspend freely without the aid of rapist-mice holding her body.
"The Professor doesn't like people messing with his escaped merchandise! He personally wanted a word with her before she was properly punished!" Mickey descended the stairs, his eyes glaring down his thugs as they lit their cigarettes and pretended to look guilty.
"Now GET OUT!" Mickey exasperated. The mice didn't need to be told twice and quickly ran up the stairs, snickering and leaving Anette alone with her former boss, Mickey Finn.
She began to nervously sweat as she looked down at the red-faced, slick-haired greasy mouse.
"Ratigan's coming soon." He said with a grin.
"I'll bite his nose." She glared.
"I fear my Gypsy…" He said as he turned his back to stand in the shadows. "…that would not be a wise idea. You are not in a proper position to bargain. Remember, you did run away and went with that stupid Basil…"
"I don't care! I want a new life! A second chance! I don't want to dance and show off my body on stage, I don't want to sell myself to men and sleep with them for money anymore!" She hissed at him. "I'm sick and tired of having sex multiple times a night! I'M FUCKING SICK OF IT!"
Mickey sighed, letting her pause to try and stop crying.
"Did someone say sex?" The dark velvet voice spoke from the door.
Her fur bristled as she instantly began to become afraid. She was always afraid around him. But when she wasn't around him for the past two days or so, she felt…stronger.
But he was back, and he just walked into the light, and she felt challenged to keep herself from begging for mercy.
Mickey smirked.
He took a long breath from his cigarette, making a smoke hole with his thick lips. He turned, his face in a serious look, his eyes glaring and angry.
"My dear, dear Gypsy…" He purred. "You were such a good little mouse before. But you ran away from daddy-kins."
She stared back, wide-eyed and her heart racing a million miles and hour.
"Didn't daddy-kins punish you the first time? Hmm? It hurt, yes?" He stepped closer to her trembling form. She felt so exposed hanging form the ceiling and bound tightly. She scrunched up under his gaze.
"DID IT?" Ratigan said again in her face!
"YES!" She yelped out at the surprise yellow eyes and nicotine breath in her face. Many a times he occasionally kissed her, groped her…but it was always frightening. Always.
"Yet you still didn't learn your lesson!" Ratigan snarled and chewed the cigarette holder. Anette still was focused in on his eyes and pointed teeth. "I'm going to have to hurt you again…"
With what was left of her courage she gathered up her saliva in her mouth…and spat on his left cheek.
Hissing, he pulled away and snarled towards Mickey.
"Tissue?" Mickey nervously said. Quickly he pulled out a pink handkerchief.
Ratigan snatched it up to wipe the spit off his unshaven face.
Anette glared at him, trying not to show she was afraid.
After dabbing his cheek, Ratigan returned the handkerchief to Mickey.
He looked un-amused. And very cross…
"Every time you spite me…" He growled under his breath as he steadily stalked close to her. "You make me want you…"
She had not time to respond as he swooped in and kissed her! He let out a squeak as his hands pushed her head in so he could scour her mouth with his thick tongue. The other crawled up her leg where a knife had been a few minutes before.
She had almost forgotten the taste of Ratigan. Never had he kissed so hard and rough, and the alcohol taste was making her nauseous.
Screaming with her mouth locked unto his she felt herself blush and squirm as his hand rubbed her undergarment, the sneaky gloved hand supporting her suspending weight easily as he touched sacred places. Anette bucked and twisted but his fingers were still there…
"You drive me crazy…" He growled and bit her lips. She whimpered as the wound drew blood and he lapped it up with his tongue. "Perhaps tomorrow I'll show you some more lessons."
He withdrew from kissing, letting her gasp and moan as he stroked harder. She threw her head back to try and breathe and stop herself from showing her submission.
D-don't feel it…just don't…don't…feel…a-anything… She cried in her head.
It seemed like ages. Her body felt burning, yet she hated him, hated for what he'd done to her and everything else that forced her life into living hell. And now he was doing far worse.
With a gasp, she felt him pull away. She felt limp and weak, hanging her head as she hung like a butchered animal on the rack. Her heartbeat was trying to slow down the unwanted pleasure fading away slowly. She felt immobilized as she dangled, limply, waiting for fate.
"Knife." Ratigan purred.
Mickey, who was feeling a bit disgusted at the wet gloved hand that was offered towards him, place his thick dagger in Ratigan's paws. He watched as he went behind Anette and was cutting the ropes around her.
With a flop she landed on the floor. Anette groaned in pain as he bent over and pulled the ropes off her, leaving her back exposed to him.
"Whip." Ratigan coolly said over her.
Her eyes bugged out as she suddenly had the images of what the word whip meant.
She turned, looking up and completely absorbed in watching him grab the riding crop from Mickey's hands.
Mickey immediately ran up the stairs in a great hurry.
"W-wha…n-no…" She stammered as she saw the whip. The sharp spade of leather at the tip, the handle, and the long thin rod that made a whooshing sound as it sliced through the air.
"Yes…" He purred with a toothy grin.
A loud SMACK was heard. The riding crop had slashed her back.
Squeaking in the sudden pain, it was the cause of a panic attack as there was the now repeated stinging sensation attacking her!
It was happening so fast she couldn't think to move away. The pain was getting harder, harder, HARDER as she twitched and screamed. Her back felt like it was on fire, tears streaming down her face. She tried to drawl away but a well-placed foot on her leg kept her in place, her limbs scrambling on the floor as she wailed.
The stinging was exactly as she remembered. The feeling of Ratigan's body sitting on her, pushing her down and the hot breath and whip was exactly as she remembered. The sound of it rung through her ears with her own begs for mercy was imprinted in her memory. The feel of hot blood running down her sides and her back naked to him was excruciatingly maddening to her mind.
She thought her brain was about to break with the pain shooting up her spine and marring her skin with wounds.
Anette could only imagine how she looked like now. Crying, bleeding, in terrible pain, a mad rat sitting on her thighs snarling and whipping her.
And then it all suddenly stopped.
She opened her eyes, breathing hard, looking out at the far wall ad the boxes, arms fallen limp where they reached out to dig into the wooden floor. She soon became aware that with every breath she let out a soft pleading whimper.
A warm hand brushed the rest of her hair away. She began shivering as the fire on her back was chilled by the cold air. She still felt warm blood and tears crawl down her fur.
And that was not all that was crawling down her fur.
Pain immobilized her helplessly as Ratigan roughly reached under and grabbed the front of her dress. It was easily torn off and down. His hand traveled up, resting upon her bosom.
"Oooh…n-no…n-n-noo…Oh G-God…oh…oooh…" Anette breathed as he squeezed.
"Remember what I said about the next time you were a bad girl?" The rat rasped at her neck.
She nodded weakly as she let out a choked sob.
The rat smiled evilly.
She had hoped that it wouldn't come to this. That Ratigan wouldn't dare do anything more to her. She was only just another mouse prostitute. And now, as he was licking the wounds on her back, she couldn't even imagine how it would feel like…
Ratigan lapped at her blood, tasting and touching her and hearing her cries.
He had a different sort of plan for her. After all, he thought in his head, he knew just what would be worse than him raping her.
Giving one last lick of her cheek, he grunted as he got off her. He stood over her weeping form as she curled up and looked back at him with wide, tear filled eyes. Seeing her in a state so similar to Canary's…it was arousing him further.
But he would take it out soon enough on his beloved.
I'm sure the rats would like this little number…he thought as he glared at her and swished his cape around.
She watched him ascend up the stairs, opening the door to the light. Trembling, she saw the four mice from earlier looking in, and looking a little bit ill as they saw her and then Ratigan in front of them.
"Do as you wish with her. I have no business bedding an ignorant gypsy." The tall form of Ratigan growled.
It was then she felt the most insulted in her life.
The mice hollered and howled as they ran down the stairs, eager to pounce on fresh meat.
As Ratigan closed the door, he smiled as he heard her screaming.
Enjoy yourself, Gypsy… He thought wickedly.
A/N: Yeah. Obviously Ratigan's a bit of a racist. And rapist…coughcough…And like whipping innocents almost to death and madness.
Shoys.