When Johann Strauss turned fourteen, he found work as a Cleaner.

His mother, however attractive she was, didn’t always earn enough money from her job at the brothel. More than once did they both go to bed on an empty stomach, and more than once was the young boy forced to steal or cheat for his and his mother’s next meal. When he came ‘home’ with a pouch full of breads and dried meats, his mother wouldn’t say a thing about it or the occasional bruises on his face.

But he eventually grew sick of stealing and cheating; not because of any inherent dislike for it, but because it was getting harder and harder for him to make clean getaways. Often times, he’d get caught and beaten up. Sometimes the beatings would go too far and he’d end up with a broken nose or swollen eye. Finding a job, however small the pay, was the next best thing after trying to make a life off the streets.

Being a Cleaner was simple and the pay was decent, but very few people actually wanted to do it.

The secondary reasons were varied and many; it was a thankless job, the working environments were unacceptably filthy, the equipment faulty and sometimes even unsafe for use, the management being lenient to the point of not caring, and the risk of being robbed during the job was always present.

The main reason being that it involved the collection and disposal of dead bodies.

Despite its outward appearance as one of the most well-known and heavily populated cities in the Realm, Concor couldn’t clean itself and the homeless died easier than those who had sturdy roofs over their heads and thick walls around their beds. Someone had to do the task.

Johann showed up at the Cleaner’s headquarters one morning and asked to work. The manager, a lovely older woman in her early twenties, tossed him a spare uniform, and jerked her thumb at black-colored cart loaded with several brooms, shovels, buckets, and a rusted mace.

“You’re assigned to the Red Light district.” She told him. “Get going.”

“What’s the mace for?” he asked. The woman levelled him a look.

“To finish what last night’s cold didn’t.” she turned around and walked into the building. “Get to work, boy.”

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Johann’s first day as a Cleaner was mostly uneventful. Nothing more than just food scraps and various pieces of miscellaneous trash laying about the street and various alleys he checked. But it was the last alley that taught Johann the most important lesson as a Cleaner; never work without your mae.

The boy made a round at the last alley of the Red Light district and found it filled with broken bottles, blood splatters, and several dead bodies of men and women slumped over or just plain sprawled out on the ground. From their positioning and the lack of odour, he concluded that they must’ve been in a fight and died the previous night. Why no-one bother notifying the law was beyond him, but it wasn’t his job to think about the stupidity of certain people. He was ony there to clean up after their messes.

The boy dismounted and swept the small debris like glass shards and broken cups and plates into large box, to be sorted and recycled for later use. Then he began hauling each and every one of the bodies onto the Cleaner’s cart. First then men then the women with small breaks in between, he thought to himself. It would make things easier and he’d at least have some good eye candy for his troubles.

He was about to haul in the last two bodies, a man sprawled atop a woman, when he caught a sound.

“W-Who’s… Who’s there?” a young voice whimpered. It came from the bodies.

Johann rushed over and found a small hand grasping out from under the dead woman, groping the ground almost drowsily. Without thinking, the young man pushed the dead bodies off to see who it was.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Are you hur—“

Was as far as he got before something lunged and a weight knocked him to his back. Johann screamed and struggled, arms flailing and legs kicking as small hands grabbed at his uniform and mouth.

“Shut up!” a voice, young and desperate, demanded. “Shut up and give me your money!”

Johann scream louder and kicked the weight off him. He scrabbled backwards and got to his feet in time to see his attacker stand up.

A young girl, brown hair matted and dirty, dressed in rags. Her teeth were bared and she held a rusty knife in her hands. She was hunched over and panting, drool leaking from the corner of her mouth and dripping over the dried blood that caked her face. A dim, almost beady hazel eye glared through the matted lock to look at Johann with desperation and madness.

“Gimme!” she demanded again, brandishing her rusted weapon threateningly. “Your money! Gimme and I won’t hurt you!”

“I-I-“ Johann swallowed. “I-I don’t have any—“

“You’re lying!” the girl lunged forward. “Gimme!”

Johann ducked to the side, instinct and reflexes honed from a harsh childhood in the streets mating with adrenaline to push his movements faster than that of the girl’s. The assailant fell to her face, her weapon slipping from her fingers. The young Cleaner saw his chance and ran for the cart.

For his mace.

The boy reached the cart and groped for the rusted weapon amidst the bodies he’d collected in his cart. Behind him, he heard the scrabbling of bare feet against stone.

He turned around to look. The girl was closing in with the knife in her hands raised to slash. At the same, his hand closed around something cold and sturdy that wasn’t the stiff limb of a corpse.

Without thinking, he jerked his right arm loose and swung.

The mace struck the girl’s left temple and she fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

There was a moment of silence, one where Johann’s mind tried to make sense of what happened. Tried to stop his hands from shaking, tried to wipe off the blood on his face. He’d just struck someone, a child no less, on the head with a mace. He was a murderer. A killer.

Then he remembered that night two years ago.

He dropped the mace and advanced to the girl on the ground. She was writhing in agony, her hands clutching the temple Johann’s mace had hit and leaking blood, toes curled and legs tucked to her stomach. She looked so vulnerable. So weak.

So ripe for the taking.

Johann grabbed her ankle and pulled her into the alley, far enough to hide from prying eyes. She struggled, but it was in vain.

Once he was sure they were out of sight, Johann dropped the girl’s leg and took off his pants to expose a hardening member. She saw this and whimpered, trying to crawl away. Johann pulled her closer and the grabbed the lapels of the rags she wore.

“W-Wait,” she pleaded. “I-I’m sorry-!”

The boy growled and tore it open with a good jerk of his arms, exposing a childish physique that hadn’t eaten anything in three days. She had no breasts, but her nipples had begun to harden from exposure to the cold. Her hips had only begun to curve, and her legs were skinny like twigs. She must not have been older than ten years.

The girl tried to scream, but a vicious backhand to the face cut her off.

“P-Please...” she croaked as Johann roughly grabbed hold of her hips and thrust himself into her. “Aah!”

The thing that was Johann growled and clamped a hand over the girl’s mouth to muffle her screams. He thrusted harder, faster, uncaring for the little bitch that moaned and buckled under him, whose hands and nails dug deep into his chest and arms. The pain spurred him on, made him thrust harder and deeper as he neared his first orgasm.

The girl seized up, back arching and her womanhood squirted its juices all over Johann’s lower abdomen. Her eyes were wide and the bleeding from her head injury intensified. Her inner walls clamped around Johann’s manhood, but it wasn’t quite enough to bring him to orgasm.

He pulled out of her and rolled her onto her front. He ignored and pained mewls and pleas, spreading her round butt open and ramming himself into her asshole.

This time, Johann managed to clamp his hands around her mouth before she screamed.

He raped her, hard and fast. Not caring for the hands the claws at his for release, not caring for the fluids his victim was leaking all over the cobblestone. At one point, he grabbed the girl’s hair and pulled her back as far as her back could bend without breaking, forcing her to look into his eyes as he fucked her like some animal.

That seemed to do the trick, as her struggles ceased and her voice lost its sound. Her hands fell limp and she stared blankly at him. He let go of her hair, letting the receptacle fall face-first onto the cobblestone as her asshole tightened and more fluid squirted out from her womanhood.

He was close now. So close. Just a little bit more and he would cum.

He pulled out of her, and walked forward. Johann grabbed the girl’s hair, pulled up until her gaping mouth was lined with his manhood, and thrust forward.

Immediately, the girl gagged and her once unresponsive limbs jerked to life. She tried to scream but couldn’t with the cock in her throat. Her hands reached up to push Johann off, but it merely forced him to act harsher.

The boy wrapped his hands around the girl’s neck and squeeze until her throat was wrapped around his length like a vice. His victim’s struggles went ignored as he fucked her mouth hard and fast and deep, aiming for to orgasm so hard that his seed would shoot into her stomach. He was so close, so damn close—

Release.

Johann moaned, and held the girl to the base of his length as he emptied his balls into her stomach. She twitched, hands digging into Johann’s stomach and she squirted again. Then she ceased moving, eyes rolling into the back of her head and arms dangling limply at her sides. Johann pulled out and let her fall sideways to the ground.

For a moment, he stared at the body and noticed it’s chest was still rising and falling. He kicked it once, then kicked it harder when it failed to respond.

The girl coughed, semen spraying all Johann’s legs as she scratched at her bruised neck. She tried to scrabble away from her tormentor, but Johann took a step forward and grabbed her hair to stop her from moving. He tugged once and the girl winced, ceasing to fight for fear of what her tormentor would do if she resisted.

“What’s your name?” Johann asked.

“…Cynthia.” The girl croaked, semen and blood dribbling down the corners of her mouth.

“Nice to meet you Cynthia. I’m Johann.” The young Cleaner smiled thinly. “From today onwards, I am your owner.”