Charity 60

Whispers of a Former Life: Episode 60

Alejandra drifted through the market, weaving lazily between stalls with Charity perched high on her shoulder like an obedient parrot. One of Alejandra’s calloused fingers looped lightly around the little harness clipped to Charity’s collar, a subtle leash hidden in plain sight. 

From up here, Charity saw everything: the color splash of produce crates, the swirl of spicy air rolling off fryers, the quick glances people threw her way before looking quickly away. She could feel the warmth radiating from Alejandra’s skin beneath her thighs, the thrum of her voice vibrating faintly up through her collarbone whenever she spoke a lazy gracias or bartered for a discount. 

She hated how steady it made her feel. How easily she could topple if Alejandra simply let go. 

When Alejandra finally stopped, it was at a hot dog vendor tucked between two cracked stucco walls. Charity watched from her high perch as mustard and onions were piled onto the steaming sausage. She felt her own mouth water before she could stop it. 

Alejandra didn’t rush. She balanced the hot dog in one hand, a sweating can of Coke in the other, then turned away, humming lightly under her breath as she strolled to a battered bench beneath the shade of a drooping pepper tree. 

She lowered herself onto the bench with a lazy sigh, shoulder dipping just enough to remind Charity how precarious her perch really was. Then Alejandra leaned back, crossed one leg over the other, and bit into the hot dog with a low, satisfied hum. 

The scent hit Charity full in the face: warm meat, cheap mustard, onions sharp enough to sting her nose. Her stomach cramped so hard she grabbed a fistful of Alejandra’s collar to steady herself. 

She heard her own voice before she meant to speak, a pathetic, rasping plea: 

“P-please, Alejandra…” 

Alejandra’s eyes flicked sideways without moving her head. One eyebrow arched lazily, amusement flickering beneath dark lashes. She licked a dot of mustard from her thumb, then bit again, chewing slow, letting the steam drift right up to where Charity sat. 

“I-I still need real food…” Charity’s voice cracked like old glass. She felt so foolish begging from her guardian’s shoulder like a hungry bird. “If I don’t, my body becomes fully pellet-dependent. I’m not ready, please, please, I need… human food too…” 

Alejandra chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through her shoulder into Charity’s thighs. 

“Right, Patrona. In Mexico, all Littles eat pellets. It’s normal. Proper. Before, I had no pellets, so I had to feed you people food. I didn’t want you to starve. I’m not cruel, mi amor. 

She took another bite, savoring it with a little hum. Then, with that final, soft certainty that sealed Charity’s fate like a locked gate: 

“But now? Now you’re my pequeña. You’ll be raised properly. Like a good Mexican Little.” 

The words slammed into Charity’s ribs harder than any slap. Her eyes stayed locked on the half-eaten hot dog, the soft bun soaked with mustard, the tiny fleck of onion stuck to Alejandra’s lip. Her belly clenched so viciously she thought she might double over and topple right off this smug, sun warmed shoulder. 

She hated herself for what came next, the squeak in her voice, the break in her breath: 

“N-no… Alejandra, please… you don’t understand. I can’t switch overnight. I’ll get sick, really sick. I’ll be weak, useless. Por favor, just a bite. Just… just a little…” 

She braced her tiny palms against Alejandra’s neck, pushing herself upright, forcing herself to meet those calm brown eyes. Maybe behind them was a sliver of memory, of hunger, of wanting more than scraps. 

But Alejandra only tilted her head, eyes soft and unbothered, like Charity was a noisy kitten batting at a treat she wouldn’t get. She lifted the hot dog again, deliberate, slow, and bit deep, chewing lazily as mustard dripped onto her thumb. 

The scent of warm bread and fried sausage mocked Charity’s nose. Her collar tag swung gently with each pleading breath: jingle, jingle, jingle. She was a pet on a shoulder, begging for scraps she no longer had any right to claim. 
 
Alejandra shifted her grip and lowered Charity carefully from her shoulder down into the warm cradle of her lap. Charity’s bare thighs pressed against the soft denim stretched over Alejandra’s crossed legs. For a moment, Charity just sat there, too stunned to move, her tiny hands splayed helplessly on the rough fabric, the world too big and her voice too small. 

Then she felt it: Alejandra’s fingertip on her back. 

Slow, deliberate, Alejandra traced slow circles between Charity’s shoulder blades. Pressure just firm enough to sink past skin and into the deep nerves hidden beneath. Charity gasped, her spine arching despite herself. Each stroke set off sparks in places she didn’t want to name, places she used to believe no one could ever reach without her permission. 

Alejandra knew exactly what she was doing. The Guardian training she’d studied in used manuals in school was clear: Littles are creatures of touch. Master the back, master the mind. 

“I will take care of you, Patrona.” Alejandra’s voice was calm, almost kind, a lullaby laced with barbed wire. Her thumb brushed just below Charity’s collar, coaxing another tiny shiver. “I saw how hard it was for you… watching your family drop, one by one, after your brother moved out. So alone in that big house. But you’re not alone anymore, mi pequeña. Now you have me.” 

Charity’s eyes stung. The words crawled through her skull, wrapping around her pride like a snake coiling for warmth. 

“If you want to help me,” she whispered, desperate hope clinging to each syllable, “just… please, Alejandra. Call Kira. She’ll come for me. She’ll fix this. I should’ve asked her before but…” Her breath hitched. “I thought I was different. I thought I wouldn’t get infected like my father, like my mother. I thought…my parents thought…” 

She trailed off, too ashamed to say it aloud: I thought I was too good for this fate. We all did. 

Alejandra’s finger stilled on her back. The sudden stillness was worse than the touch. Her next words fell like stones: 

“There will be no Kira, Patrona.” Her tone flattened, carved from some secret cave of memory and hunger that Charity could never fathom. “You don’t understand, Patrona. You never had to sleep on benches like this. Or crawl under dumpsters so the night men wouldn’t find you and drag you away. You never ate stale bread tossed out the back of a bakery,  bread so hard it cut your gums but you ate every crumb anyway.” 

Alejandra leaned closer, her voice a hush of ragged truth. “You were born with ten lifetimes of comfort while I was born with none. But now? Now I have my own condo. My own car. My own little. For once, I’m not nobody. I’m somebody, and you are mine.” 

Charity’s throat bobbed. She wanted to scream she wasn’t an object. But the words tangled and died behind her tongue. 

Alejandra’s tone brightened suddenly, falsely gentle: 

“Are you thirsty, Patrona?” 

She lifted her fountain drink, condensation running like cold tears down the plastic. She brought it close, the straw so far above Charity’s reach it might as well have been on the moon. Charity blinked up at it, then back at Alejandra’s patient smile, then back again. Her mouth was so dry she could taste her own panic. 

Before her mind could argue, her body betrayed her. She leaned forward, pressing her cracked lips against the plastic side of the cup where Alejandra’s fingers had been Alejandra’s own mouth had just been. The water droplets forming from the cold coke inside the plastic cup and running down the side. 

Each lick scraped away another sliver of dignity. The water stung her tongue; the cold soothed her scorched throat. Her collar tag swung and jingled, mocking her with every desperate motion. 

Good girl, Patrona,” Alejandra purred, her free hand drifting down to stroke her back again, each pass reinforcing the lesson. “Now you’re a real Mexican pequeña. You’ll get some pellets at home.” 

Charity’s shoulders shook. She wanted to bite down, spit the water back in Alejandra’s face, run barefoot across broken glass if that’s what it took to remember who she’d been. But instead, she kept licking, gulping each drop like a starving stray. 

Above her, Alejandra popped the last bite of her hot dog into her mouth, chewing lazily, savoring the final proof that some hungers were hers alone to feed, or deny. Her hand traced one last warm line down Charity’s trembling spine. 

Alejandra had once promised herself she’d be a good Guardian if life ever gave her the chance. And in her mind, she was. She was keeping her pequeña fed, watered, touched, cared for. 

And she had no intention of ever letting her go. 

 

 

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Dave
Dave
12 days ago

If Alejandra was trained on littles, she must know that Charity needs more heat than she’s been getting. Will she set up some kind of warm habitat for Charity? Something to keep her warmer while carrying her around as well?

J - Vader
J - Vader
Reply to  Dave
12 days ago

Good point

Dave
Dave
Reply to  Asukafan2001
11 days ago

I am talking about it at night too. She has been cold at night.

J - Vader
J - Vader
12 days ago

Well I guess this somewhat a real talk this two needed at least not the full amount I most wanted but it’s a step closer or at least the opening of this building of relationship

I am interested to see how Al will respond if Charity were in danger like no getting the heat she needs from a habitat and get a cold and needs medical attention or she gets lost in some way

And here a cool thing that could happen Charity needs a shot but it’s revealed she has a deep fear of needles and can’t calm herself to get the shot and Al has to calm hear down and Charity mentions how her brother or one or both her parents would hold her hand or something in dealing with shots

So it would be cool to see how Al deals with charity on emotional level or in a dangerous situation

At least for me of course I don’t charity getting hurt just would be interested to see different situations and how each guardian deals with that aspect

Lethal Ledgend
Reply to  Asukafan2001
12 days ago

I feel like there are less extreme steps we could take to get the same result.

J - Vader
J - Vader
Reply to  Asukafan2001
12 days ago

NO THE HELL I DONT !!! 😭

Lethal Ledgend
Reply to  Asukafan2001
12 days ago

What now? Train collision? Plane crash? Spaceship malfunction?

Lethal Ledgend
Reply to  Asukafan2001
12 days ago

J-Vader is onto something; that sounds like gold.

Nodqfan
Reply to  Asukafan2001
11 days ago

Nah, make it one of the traps from the Saw movies that’ll really test Charity’s trust in Al.

Last edited 11 days ago by Nodqfan
C M
C M
Reply to  Asukafan2001
11 days ago

And it has the same Ryan Reynolds style cameo except it’s Kelli and talisa on a date! Brilliant!

washsnowghost
12 days ago

finally this chapter says what I’ve been saying. Littles are being of touch, the other chapters need to start adding more physical interaction because its natural for smaller animals to want to be close to larger love and protectors. i think the last chapters of Madison’s world was getting good with the girls being more physical loving with their dad, now mads needs to physical bond with her mom to mellow her out. she is Madison’s little.

Tantan
Tantan
12 days ago

Is three any extra sid story this week?

Lethal Ledgend
Reply to  Tantan
12 days ago

Side Stories are released randomly and without warning. always a nice surprise.

Lethal Ledgend
12 days ago

1) “whenever she spoke a lazy gracias or bartered for a discount”. Gonna be harder to get discounts waving that status symbol around.

2) “Charity watched from her high perch as mustard and onions were piled onto the steaming sausage. She felt her own mouth water before she could stop it.” That’s making my mouth water too, actually, lol

3) “I-I still need real food… If I don’t, my body becomes fully pellet-dependent. I’m not ready, please, please, I need… human food too…” Surprisingly well educated.

4) “Right, Patrona. In Mexico, all Littles eat pellets. It’s normal. Proper. Before, I had no pellets, so I had to feed you people food. I didn’t want you to starve. I’m not cruel, mi amor.” Given what we know Mexico’s done in the universe, I wouldn’t be using it as an example.

5) “But now? Now you’re my pequeña. You’ll be raised properly. Like a good Mexican Little.” Nope, still no pity for Charity.

6) “N-no… Alejandra, please… you don’t understand. I can’t switch overnight. I’ll get sick, really sick. I’ll be weak, useless. Por favor, just a bite. Just… just a little…” Charity does have a point, expecting Littles to turn on a dime is cruel, and it’s also just a good idea to have them able to eat both.

7) “, forcing herself to meet those calm brown eyes. Maybe behind them was a sliver of memory, of hunger, of wanting more than scraps.” There are, but also hatred and disdain for Charity and people like her.

8) “Charity’s bare thighs pressed against the soft denim stretched over Alejandra’s crossed legs” but Charity s wearing long pants, she doesn’t have bare thighs.

9) “Alejandra knew exactly what she was doing. The Guardian training she’d studied in used manuals in school was clear: Littles are creatures of touch. Master the back, master the mind.” That does seem to be how this works.

10) “I saw how hard it was for you… watching your family drop, one by one, after your brother moved out. So alone in that big house. But you’re not alone anymore, mi pequeña. Now you have me.” Wow, that looked so much like sympathy, I was almost tricked.

11.1) “If you want to help me, “just… please, Alejandra. Call Kira. She’ll come for me. She’ll fix this.” Fooled Charity too
11.2) “I should’ve asked her before but…” Her breath hitched. “I thought I was different. I thought I wouldn’t get infected like my father, like my mother. I thought…my parents thought…” I take back what I said in 3.

12) “You don’t understand, Patrona. You never had to sleep on benches like this. Or crawl under dumpsters so the night men wouldn’t find you and drag you away. You never ate stale bread tossed out the back of a bakery, bread so hard it cut your gums but you ate every crumb anyway.” No she hasn’t, but she also shouldn’t have had to. It was wrong that Ale had to.

13) “You were born with ten lifetimes of comfort while I was born with none. But now? Now I have my own condo. My own car. My own little. For once, I’m not nobody. I’m somebody, and you are mine.” and she gained it all in what would generously be described as “technically not thrift”

14) “But instead, she kept licking, gulping each drop like a starving stray.” what is a cute yet humiliating position for Charity to be in.

15) “Alejandra had once promised herself she’d be a good Guardian if life ever gave her the chance. And in her mind, she was. She was keeping her pequeña fed, watered, touched, cared for.” Alejandra’s been brainwashed into blindly following Mexico’s definition of “good guardian” just like Sara has been with America’s

Last edited 12 days ago by Lethal Ledgend