Skaven Taming

Skitch groaned as he stirred awake. His head burned, but unlike the ache of a night of overindulgence, this was more akin to having his skull split in half. His eyes glazed. A blurry field of white stretched out before him.

White?

Where in the world was he?

There was the vague recollection of grass, brittle and faded. Dull green patches dotted his long, muddy trek. The destination — a cliffside vantage of a man-thing town. His clan had sent him to scout it. He spotted billowing smokestacks of industry, each spewing forth impenetrable black, nearly shrouding the hundreds filling the streets. Their distant shapes scurried in and out of easily flammable buildings. They would all disintegrate under warpfire — human and building alike.

Alas, Skitch couldn’t watch forever; his mouth had grown dry. He wandered, soon finding a stream clear enough to see the stone-covered bottom. He leaned down, yearning for the relief the first gulp of water would bring.

And that was it. Green, brown, black and blue. He couldn’t remember any white. Even the sky was horribly bright and blue, the harsh sun cooking him in his fur as the day wore on.

He mumbled in pain and jerked an arm towards the back of his head — the burning source. The brown fur of his biceps bulged out, tensing as he tried to lift them. But even as he tugged and squirmed, his limbs refused to budge. What had happened to his arms? They didn’t feel broken, yet they functioned worse than the many shattered limbs he had seen of his own kind, a common sight in his clan.

As he blinked, trying to steady his vision, something soft brushed over the back of his head, rubbing around where the throbbing stung the most. A dull set of claws traced their way around his scalp, tucking between the floppy folds of his ears. It did nothing for the pain, but the tender strokes soothed him. He sighed, long and strained, and sank to the ground, entrusting his care to the one tending to him.

That is, until the owner of the mystery hand called out, his voice firm yet dripping with ridicule. “My, what an adorable little ratty you are…”

Adrenaline shot through Skitch’s chest. That wasn’t the voice of his kin; it belonged to a man-thing! He tried to jump, lurch around, defend himself against that vile human — but his limbs had less mobility than viscous ooze. He arched his back — the only part capable of independent movement — and writhed with all his strength.

It all amounted to nothing; the human simply shoved Skitch back down, smooshing his snout into the white ground.

“Now, now… don’t use up all your energy at once,” the human said, resting his head beside Skitch’s ear.

In the quiet that followed, everything came together for Skitch in a horrifying moment of realisation. Why his head hurt, why his memory ended at leaning down to drink, why he was in this man-thing’s clutches — there was only one explanation. He had been knocked out and captured by the very same species he was scouting.

“Stupid man-thing!” Skitch said, thrashing against his binds. “Let Skitch go! Skitch kill you! Kill-stab man-thing!”

Skitch snarled and hissed, yet the human wasn’t fazed. He returned to stroking Skitch’s head, still pinning the squirming skaven under his bulk.

“Is that any way to thank your savour, skaven?” His voice was suddenly soft, barely a whisper. It made Skitch shiver; why was the man-thing so calm, so quiet?

Skitch pierced the silence with a shrill gargle, flailing anew with all the energy he could muster. The human responded by simply applying more pressure to Skitch’s back, squishing his face deeper into the soft white floor.

The skaven twisted his head to the side, freeing his mouth from the ground. “L-let Skitch go! Skitch not joking! Will kill-stab man-thing!”

“Skitch, huh?” The human flicked the skaven’s twitching nose, eliciting a sharp snarl. “A cute name. Fitting for such a cute little skaven.”

“Skitch not cute! Skitch scary-strong! Skitch rip-tear stupid man-thing!”

“I doubt that.” The human leaned forward. His hands glided over the matted fur covering Skitch’s arms, coming to rest atop the skaven’s hands. “You can’t even break free of some rope, so what could you possibly do to me?”

Skitch coughed, trying to focus his blurring vision on his arms. A string of brown twisted around his wrists. He traced them to two posts on either side of his face, where they tied in a large knot. The rope only tightened when he pulled his arms. He tried to swing his claws over to the opposing arm, but both ropes gave no slack.

“Let Skitch leave-go!” He kicked his legs, but they, too, moved no more than an inch. Pressure only built around his ankles the more he struggled against his binds.

The human tsked, rubbing behind the skaven’s ear. “It’s not every day one captures a skaven, let alone such a cute little runt like you.”

“Skitch not cute! Skitch ferocious!” He growled as loud as he could, but it petered into a whine as the human scratched at his chin.

“If you weren’t cute, you wouldn’t be breathing right now.” The human trailed his fingers down Skitch’s fluffy chin, only to tense his hand around the skaven’s throat. “There’s a bounty on ratmen here, you know? Your adorable little head would fetch quite a price.”

Skitch whimpered as the hand tightened around his neck, restricting his breathing. He jerked his limbs in a frenzy and tried to push the human away, but both his binds and captor refused to relent.

“But scouts are quite a prize, aren’t they?” He released Skitch’s throat before bracing his hands around the skaven’s biceps, kneading at the straining muscles beneath his coat of fur. “Clean and slender — the runt of the clan — but with just the right amount of muscle underneath all that fur.”

“D-don’t feel-grope Skitch! Let… let Skitch go!”

“Why would I do that?” The human rolled his fingernails down Skitch’s back, scrunching at the sensitive skin underneath his fluff. “Especially now that my own skaven pet has fallen right into my lap.”

“Pet!?” Skitch let loose a high-pitched squeak — was this the vile nature of man-things his kin always warned him about? “Skitch not pet! Foul-awful man-thing, the Horned One gnaw on your innards! Release Skitch NOW!”

“Well, of course you’re not a pet… Not yet. We still need to break you in, don’t we?”

Before Skitch could respond, the human grasped the base of Skitch’s tail and yanked it over his back. Skitch yelped as the human pulled harder, tugging his rump off the ground. But through the pain, another horrifying realisation set in; the human was rubbing against the bare fur of his rump. What in the name of the Thirteen happened to his armour?

As if hearing his thoughts, the human chuckled, slamming his open palm against Skitch’s ass cheek with a loud smack. “That armour didn’t do much good for you. And besides, it was hiding your best assets.”

Skitch let out a shrill squeak as the human battered his rump again, twice as hard. He was so vulnerable; not even being the lowest in the pecking order — the runt of his clan — could compare. He tried to squirm away, and when his binds rendered that hopeless, he tried to lower his ass away from the human’s hand. But every time he shuffled some distance, the human yanked up on his tail again, keeping him fully exposed.

Skitch swung his tail tip at the human’s face, battering him with as much force as the thin appendage could muster. Something gripped down on its tip, holding it in place. Skitch thrashed his tail to try free it, only for something to dig into the flesh, causing him to squeak out. He twisted his head, managing an angle that let him see over his back. The human — his mouth curled into a cruel smirk, had squeezed Skitch’s tail between his teeth.

Then the pressure grew. The human was trying to gnaw off his tail!

“Stop! Don’t gnaw-chew, please!” Skitch whimpered as the pain built, quickly surpassing the throbbing from his head. He forced himself to stop squirming — anything to convince the human to stop gnawing. Humans were weak and foolish — they believed in trite concepts like mercy. So where was this human’s pity?

It eventually showed itself — but not before Skitch had been reduced to grinding his teeth. At last, the human loosened his jaws, letting the tail pop free. Its freedom was short-lived, however; he then snatched it with both hands. He pulled it taut over Skitch’s back as he leaned down, bringing his intense blue eyes in line with the skaven’s face.

“If you swing this at me again, the tip is coming off. Understand?”

Skitch whined. He widened his eyes, trying to plead with the human, but there was no hint of mercy to soften his sardonic smirk.

“I asked whether you understand, ratty.” The human tugged Skitch’s tail — hard.

“Yes-yes!” Skitch clenched his paws and eyes, certain his tail was about to be ripped from its socket. “Skitch understand! Skitch yield-submit!”

“Good boy. You’re learning.” The human leaned closer, reaching for Skitch’s snout.

That’s when Skitch saw his opportunity.

As those fingers brushed against his nose, he lurched his jaws wide and lunged for the human’s hand. His teeth snapped together with a booming crack.

Nothing. His stomach churned as no blood drenched his lips, as no scream filled his ears.

“Tch, what a naughty little ratty you are!” The human shifted away. He raised his hand high, his palm spread wide. With one hand still hoisting up the skaven’s tail, he swung down, flogging Skitch’s ass with such force that the skaven hurtled forward, his shoulder hitting his snout.

Skitch cried out, but before his squeak ended, the human swung forward again, his fury unabated. There was another booming crack and another jolt of pain to accompany it. And before Skitch could whine a garbled protest, the third strike came, belting the same already-aching cheek.

“You think removing a few fingers is going to help you? You’re lucky you missed, ratty.” The human slammed down as hard as he could, pausing to let the quivering squeak ring out, before landing a fifth strike. “Apologise. Now.”

“S-sorry-sorry! Skitch sorry! Skitch not—”

Another solid strike battered his rump, and another yowl of pain came from the depths of his throat. He writhed, trying to yank himself free of the binds, uncaring if he dislocated his limbs — anything to escape his humiliating punishment.

“I’m not hearing a lot of apologising.” The human tsked and took quicker slaps at Skitch’s ass. Though they carried less force, the now-tender flesh made them sting just as much. Worse, it seemed as though they would continue without end.

Skitch grit his teeth, tears welling up, unable to bear it any longer. “Skitch sorry! Please, no more! Skitch do anything!”

“Anything?”

“Anything! Skitch yield! Human win! Victor!”

The human said nothing as he walloped Skitch’s ass once more. With his other hand still clenched around the skaven’s stretched tail, he leaned back, reaching for something behind the mound of white.

It was only then that Skitch realised he was on a bed of some sort. He had heard of such comforts from his kin — bedrolls stuffed with feathers and wool, softer than clouds. The thought of sleeping on something other than dirt intrigued him, but he wanted to experience it as the spoils of a raid — not forced against his will.

The human returned moments later with something blue dangling from his hand. Thin and long, small nubs dotted its surface like dull spikes. Skitch trembled, his mind lurching to piece together what was happening. However, the human didn’t give him time to come to his own conclusion. Instead, he rolled the blue object along the underside of his tail, and then prodded its tip against his exposed hole.

Skitch let out a shrill whine, squirming with renewed ferocity. “No, not that! Please—”

“Didn’t Skitch agree to anything?” the human asked, a mocking chide to his words. He twisted the dildo against his hole, not losing contact even as Skitch jerked his hips from side to side, trying to escape the inescapable.

Skitch dug his claws into the fabric underneath him, clenching down whenever the dildo pushed against his tight hole, wriggling in desperation whenever it pressed over his bruising rump. “It not fit-enter! Skitch… Skitch not want to be pet-owned!”

“You sure?” The human rolled the dildo down the skaven’s taint, kneading it against his balls. He reached forward and pinched Skitch’s erect cock between two fingers. “How do you explain this, then?”

Skitch gasped. He tried to sputter an excuse, but the only thing that left his mouth was a fluttering whine. He couldn’t believe his own body would betray him like this. Worse, just like everything else, he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He could only whimper as the human tightened his grip around Skitch’s throbbing cock, taking slow pumps as he rolled back the fuzz-covered foreskin, exposing the sensitive head.

The human chuckled as the skaven twitched from his touch. He slipped a finger into the tight foreskin, circling it around his glans while he stroked the dildo against its underside. Skitch pressed his face into the bed, trying to both hide in shame and silence his squeaks.

The human let go of Skitch’s tail, only to squeeze the scruff of his neck. He pulled the skaven’s face from the bed and asked, “Who’s a good boy, Skitch?”

Skitch sniffled; everything hurt, and yet everything burned with just as much need. “Skitch… Skitch not want to be pet-property. Skitch… proud skaven. Good-skilled scout…”

“If you’re so good, why did I catch you?” His lips rubbed against the thin folds of Skitch’s ears, tickling the sensitive insides as he whispered into them.

“Skitch… no! Human cheat-dirty! Not fight fair…”

“A bit ironic for a ratty to say that, don’t you think? Besides, I know you like this. I can feel you throbbing and leaking all over my fingers.”

“Skitch… Skitch…” The skaven, frazzled as he was, couldn’t think of a retort. He chittered instead, trying to tug his neck free from the human’s grip — to no success.

The human scoffed, firming his hold around the skaven’s neck. “I promise, what I’ve got in store for you is a lot better than what your clan will do. I don’t think they’ll be so forgiving if you skitter back naked with your tail between your legs.” The human brushed the dildo across Skitch’s snout before angling the tip at his mouth. “You’re getting enslaved either way, but wouldn’t you rather it feel good, Skitch?”

Skitch whined, unable to find his voice. He squirmed, meek this time, as his ears flattened against his head.

“So be a good boy for me. Open your mouth and say, ‘Aaaah’.”

Skitch mumbled, a trembling combination of meaningless sounds. The dildo poked his wet nose, a white gleam dribbling down the side from where his cock leaked.

The human scratched at his scalp, weaving his fingers through his thin coat of fluff. “Just relax, Skitch. Open nice and wide for your master.”

Skitch shivered. “Skitch…”

“Shh…” The human pat Skitch’s head. “It’s okay, Skitch… I’ll keep you safe. Just open wide…”

Skitch clenched his eyes. What could he do — other than go along with it? He… he would find an opportunity to turn the tables, right? To escape?

That’s all he could hope for. He slowly spread his jaws. His tongue hovered just under his nose, rubbing against the dildo.

The human kneaded his fingers across the thin edge of his earlobe. “And what did I tell you to say?”

“A-aaaaaaaaah…” His knees wobbled as the noise left his throat, his ears filling with the unmistakable sound of his submission.

“Good boy.”

The human prodded the dildo against Skitch’s snout, squeezing it underneath his elongated teeth and into his mouth proper. The nubs rolled over his tongue as the human twisted the dildo back and forth, feeding it deeper between his small jaws. Skitch tensed as the tip teased the back of his mouth, gagging as it finally kneaded itself into his throat.

“Just breathe through here, okay?” The human flicked his finger against Skitch’s nose before squeezing his hand around the skaven’s neck, rubbing at it as it began to bulge with the toy’s girth. “Also, make sure you lick it. You know where it’s going after this, don’t you?”

Skitch retched, but mumbled a gargled acknowledgement.

“That’s right. It’s going all the way in, so get it nice and slick, okay? For your own sake.”

Another gurgle from the skaven’s throat. His face burned, both in shame and exertion, but he obliged. He lashed his tongue across the length of the dildo, slobbering between each of the pointy nubs. The human slowly spun it within his maw, ensuring no inch was left out of reach for the gagging skaven.

“Your fur feels really nice against my skin. What a lucky catch you turned out to be…” The human leaned deeper, pressing more of his weight against the trembling rat. He shoved the dildo another inch down Skitch’s throat, lodging it tight before letting go and trailing his hands down the skaven’s neck. He squeezed tight around his chest, pinching and rubbing at the muscles hidden underneath his fur, twitching as they strained to support the human’s heft.

Skitch trembled as he huffed through his nose, doing all he could to fight back against his restricted flow of oxygen. He had never felt so small, so weak. Not even the embarrassment of being forced to service those fronting the skaven army — with his head locked between their beefy thighs, his snout pressed against their crotch, huffing down their overpowering musk, his gut filling as they unloaded weeks of pent-up lust straight down his throat — could compare to how vulnerable he was beneath this single human. Even the simple act of him groping and prodding every inch of his exposed chest and belly sent his mind reeling, his heart fluttering. His touch was direct and forceful, yet restrained and delicate — entirely different from his own kind. It wasn’t to hurt, but to make him quiver.

Everything was made worse when the human nibbled his ears, tugging at the sensitive folds. “Who’s a good boy?” he asked with a drawn-out huff.

Perhaps it was the waning oxygen, but Skitch wanted nothing more than to squeak out. To yell, “Skitch!” He might have done just that — albeit an indiscernible mumble around the dildo clogging both his mouth and throat.

Still, the human understood. “That’s right, Skitch. You’re a good boy. My good boy…”

Skitch shuddered, overcome with intense warmth flooding from his face to his chest.

“Who do you belong to, Skitch?”

Skitch erupted into a fit of trembles. Being a good boy was one thing, but being enslaved to a man-thing — the thought alone made his toes curl, as if they were searching for an escape. An out. They found only the softness of the bed.

“That’s right, Skitch. You belong to me.”

Again, Skitch’s legs wobbled, threatening to collapse under the human’s weight. He curled his tail around the human’s thigh and squeezed tight, doing all he could to brace himself. The thought of being property to a man-thing — of all races — was utterly terrifying.

And incredibly alluring. Exciting, even.

He had failed in his clan-given purpose. Yet, instead of the death he deserved, he now belonged to the victor.

He was property.

And to the victor, the spoils; he hucked his tail higher, presenting his tight hole to the one who owned it.

“My, someone’s eager.” The human zigzagged his fingernails back up over the skaven’s chest and throat, grabbing hold of the butt of the dildo. “Ready to come up for air?”

Skitch couldn’t respond before his throat began to empty. The dildo’s tip plopped free of his gullet, heralded by a hoarse wheeze. His gums clenched down around the escaping toy as it slid backwards, and then a few sudden twists jerked it free. Strings of drool connected his tongue to several drenched nubs, curling under their weight as the human pulled the dildo away. They eventually snapped, splatting against his fluffy chin.

The human said nothing as he pulled his chest back, not letting it leave Skitch’s back until it rolled over his rump. The familiar weight of the dildo returned, boring against his hole, spreading his entrance.

Skitch let out a squeal and twisted his neck over his shoulder. “Wait-stop, please!”

The human tsked. “I thought you already—”

“Man-thing should claim Skitch! Fuck-breed Skitch! Fill Skitch!”

“Oh?” The human lurched upwards, swinging his hips back. His fat cock — nearly as wide as the dildo — slammed down atop the ridge of Skitch’s cheek, right beside his tail. “With this, you mean?”

Skitch panted as his flexible tail wedged underneath the human’s cock before coiling around its length. He had never taken something that large in his ass, yet the thought of being pinned and helpless as it bulged out his belly sent his mind into a lust-fuelled haze. “M-man-thing… man-thing should unload… unload deep inside Skitch.”

“Unload into this tight little thing?” The human licked two fingers and jammed them into Skitch’s hole, spreading them to stretch apart his rim.

Skitch groaned, an unsteady quiver to his voice as pain — wonderful pain — shot up his back. He wiggled his rump and clenched his hole, doing all he could to entice the man-thing. He squeaked in excitement as the human spit, warm drool splatting against his hole before being spread around his pucker. Another loud spit — this one the human jabbed into his ass, lubing his insides.

“C-can Skitch… can Skitch cum-squirt too?” In his clan, he always needed to ask permission from his superiors. Why would this be any different?

“I don’t know,” the human said, his smirk widening as he gazed down at the skaven’s face. “Do you deserve it?”

Skitch whined as he bucked his hips, thrusting his aching need against thin air. “Skitch… Skitch good boy! Good boy get good reward, yes?”

“Maybe. But good boys don’t make any unnecessary mess, do they?”

The human reached behind the bed, returning with a small, semi-transparent wrap. Skitch had no clue what it was, but before he could ask, the human squeezed his hands between the skaven’s fluffy thighs. Skitch gasped and held his breath as the rubbery object spread over his cockhead. The human rolled it over his length, covering his entire shaft, before flicking the cock tip and causing Skitch to wince.

The human leaned his body forward, pinning the skaven underneath his chest. He stroked Skitch’s head — much to the skaven’s delight — while angling his hips, teasing Skitch’s entrance with his cock. He swirled the tip around Skitch’s rim, slowly adding pressure, gradually stretching his entrance — only to relent, provoking a long whine from the needy skaven. Skitch bucked backwards, trying to engulf the man-thing’s cock, but a sharp flick against his nose made him behave.

“Why man-thing tease? Breed-claim Skitch!”

The human squeezed his hand firmly around the skaven’s neck. “Do you promise to be a good boy?”

“Yes-yes, Skitch promise-swear!”

“And who owns Skitch?”

“Man-thing own Skitch! Skitch man-thing’s slave-pet!”

The human suddenly thrust forward, burying his entire length without warning. The soggy splatter of his hips striking the skaven’s rump was drowned out by a jagged squeal. Skitch writhed against the bed, groaning out as his asshole clenched around the invading length. The human pushed his snout into the bed before biting his ear, snarling into it.

“And don’t you fucking forget it.”

“Yes-yes,” the skaven huffed out, trembling from the intense sensation of fullness. “S-Skitch not forget! Never forget! P-please, claim-breed Skitch!”

The human replied by rolling his hips back — letting his cockhead squeeze between Skitch’s rim — only to slam it back in with twice the force. Skitch clenched his claws through the mattress, tearing up clumps as he tried to find something to brace against — again, to no success. His bruised cheeks stung each time the human rammed back into him, but pain and pleasure merged into a burning need, quickly building in his loins. Skitch wrapped his tail around the human’s back, tugging him in tempo with his thrusts.

“Fuck, pretty tight for such a fat ass.” The human squeezed Skitch’s reddened cheek, eliciting a soft whimper from the quivering ratman. “Good cushion, too.”

“S-Skitch… happy—”

The human shoved Skitch’s face into the bed. “No talking. Squeak for me, Skitch. Squeak like the little ratty you are.”

Skitch twisted his head to the side, freeing his snout from the bed, but a hard thrust smooshed him back into the mattress. He let out a muffled squeak before the human pulled back and bottomed out in him again, forcing out a sharper squeak.

“That’s it, louder!”

Skitch couldn’t tell whether he controlled his voice anymore; each squeak seemed automatic, a shrill yelp in response to the human’s cock stretching parts of him still virgin to an outside touch. Skitch had played with himself before, but never this deep or intense. Unlike those sessions, his binds prevented him from playing with his cock, yet it still twitched and throbbed with each thrust, bouncing up against his belly. Skitch didn’t pay it much attention, however; he focused on the motions of his hole. He clenched it tight when the human plunged forward and relaxed it as he pulled back.

The human leaned down on Skitch’s back, hastening his thrusts. Skitch’s muscles trembled and ached as they supported their combined weight. He couldn’t let himself collapse flat; with his rump high above his back, it was perfectly angled and exposed, allowing the human to pound away with all the force he could muster.

And that’s exactly what Skitch wanted.

The man-thing possessed boundless stamina — beyond anything a skaven was capable of. Even as the most intense and exhausting minutes of Skitch’s life continued without reprieve, the speed and force of the human’s thrusts built and built.

They soon reached such a tempo that Skitch didn’t have time to finish his squeak before his prostate bore the full force of another balls-deep plunge. Before long, those squeaks ran together as an endless gargle. That gargle would soar to a piercing squeal in time with the clap of the human’s hips striking Skitch’s bruised rump.

The human’s stamina was incredible in more ways than one; Sketch knew he couldn’t outlast him. The skaven bit his lip as his balls churned. Each thrust — each hammer against his prostate — ached through his cock like a jolt of electricity. His cock hadn’t been touched, yet his impending climax wrecked his body in ways he had never felt before.

His toes cramped as they curled tighter and tighter. That squirming tail curled even further over Skitch’s back, desperate to present as much of his rear end as possible. The tail tip jerked about, whapping against his snout. Skitch thrust it into his mouth to keep it still, but then the thought of sucking the human’s cock took over. He pumped his thick tail between his lips, slurping and coiling his tongue around its curves as its tip teased the entrance to his throat.

Utter euphoria rippled down each of the skaven’s trembling limbs, bringing him to the verge of collapse. He so needed release. But he also needed permission.

Voice mumbled by his tail, Skitch asked, “C-can… can Skitch cum-squirt?”

The human bit down on Skitch’s ear, growling in reply. “Has Skitch been a good boy?”

“Yes-yes! Skitch good-best boy!”

“Prove it.” The human huffed deep into the skaven’s ear. “Cum for your master.”

All that self-imposed restraint melted away at his master’s orders. Skitch howled as his cock spasmed against his underbelly. He clenched his ass tight as pleasure overwhelmed him, as his fur stood on end, as every single part of him burned with yearning need.

For Skitch, his climax was a haze of pure ecstasy. He didn’t feel attached to his own body. But there were small things to ground him back to reality. The rubber around his cock growing heavier, pulling down as it swelled with his load. The human biting down on his scruff. His insides quaking around the human’s length as he bottomed out inside him. The sudden flood of intense warmth deep within his bowels, slowly rising up his backside where it overflowed and oozed down his taint. Pressure building in his lower belly as his insides filled with his master’s gift.

It went on for an eternity.

And then it was over.

Skitch’s senses returned one by one. Noise faded in first, though muted, as though rolling through a torrent of water.

“Holy fuck…” There was a soft kiss on the back of his head. “You skaven really know how to milk a cock.”

The next was touch. His nipples pinged with a dull pain. The human pinched them with two fingers while the rest of his hand groped the surrounding muscle.

Skitch took a long breath as his head cleared. His musk was heavy in the air, though the sweeter tones of the human mingled alongside it, both one with the muggy heat. He took deep huffs of that potent mix, wiggling his nose as it filled his lungs and revitalised his body. It wouldn’t take long for him to commit his master’s musk to memory.

Sight and taste both returned at once. His vision couldn’t focus, but a quick lick revealed why — his fat tail blocked half his sight. Its tip still squirmed within his mouth. Skitch pursed his lips and rolled it back, slipping it out with a moist plop. He kissed the chubby nub before curving it back, curling around the human’s back. And then he tensed it; Skitch didn’t want his master to pull out, for them to separate, for that wonderful sensation of fullness to end.

Unfortunately, the human had other plans — and a mere tail wasn’t enough to keep him locked in place. With a hard shove, squishing Skitch against the bed, the human pulled his still-hard cock from the skaven’s ass. Skitch’s pucker — as if wanting to tug it back in — quivered open and shut, though that only caused more of the human’s creamy load to leak from his hole. It oozed out in small spurts, trailing down over his taint and clumping together around the fuzz of his sac.

A long whine filled the room as Skitch felt the human’s chest pull away from his back. “E-empty…”

“What’s that, pet?”

“Skitch… Skitch hole empty…”

“Aww….” The human rubbed the skaven’s head. “Want me to fill you again?”

“Yes-yes!” Skitch couldn’t help but shout — he wanted to experience it all over again.

It seemed the human was equally needy; with another squelch of cum erupting from the skaven’s insides, the human plunged his entire length back in — down to the hilt. Skitch’s squealed in joy as the human found a steady rhythm, taking slow, gentle humps at the skaven’s behind. He shoved Skitch’s face back into the bed, and Skitch resumed his muffled groaning, in love with the feeling of his ass being stuffed full once more. Better yet, it still overflowed with the mess of his master’s prior climax.

The human’s hands rolled around Skitch’s waist, gliding over his spent cock. The sloppy rubber — filled with the skaven’s load — tugged against his glans as the human swivelled it loose. A hand gripped tight around Skitch’s scruff once again, lifting his face from the bed. The human dangled the bulging rubber before his nose, which wobbled as the thick white contents swirled within.

“Do you know what this is, Skitch?”

“S-Skitch… mess?”

“That’s right. And what did I say about messes?”

“Skitch not make-cause mess?”

“That’s right.” The human scrunched his fingers around his scruff. “Now open wide and say, ‘Aaaah’.”

“Aaaaaaaaah!” Skitch complied without hesitation this time — excitement, in fact — stretching out his tongue as far as it could reach.

The human pulled back on Skitch’s scruff, lifting his head towards the ceiling. He gripped the bottom of the rubber with his other hand and tilted it towards the skaven’s wide-open maw. Skitch’s mess dribbled out in girthy strings. It drizzled over his tongue before gravity rolled it to the back of his mouth. As the gunk pooled, Skitch took a noisy swallow.

The human stroked his snout. “Good boy.”

Skitch’s face went hot at the comment. He arched his back higher, further exposing himself to the human’s renewed thrusting, the saltiness of his own musk seeping through every inch of his mouth.

Soon, the flow of cum from the rubber ebbed, though the contents remained a cloudy streak of white. Skitch gulped down whatever was left in his mouth, but then the rubber dropped in front of him, its entrance pointed towards his snout.

“There’s still some mess in there.” The human shoved Skitch’s nose against it. “Start licking.”

Skitch shuffled his head closer, wiggling his tongue into the tight confines of the rubber. He lapped at the mess — smearing the contents throughout, some flicking out onto his nose — while the human leaned away.

“Do you know what good boys wear?” he asked.

Skitch didn’t respond, only mumbling as he swished his tongue back and forth between his mouth and the rubber, scooping whatever he could collect into his maw. His ears flickered at the soft chime of a bell, but he stayed focused, not wanting to let his master down.

“What do you think?” The human dangled a collar in front of Skitch. Its reinforced hide twinkled at him alongside the metallic sheen of its clip, complete with lock and key. But most eye-catching was the golden bell attached to its centre, gently ringing as it swayed in the human’s hand. “I know how much you ratmen love bells,” he said, “so I came prepared.”

Skitch continued to lap at the rubber. He offered not even an iota of resistance as the human grasped his neck, sliding the collar underneath before wrapping it around his scruff. His only response was twitching his ears as the soothing chime of the bell called out to him. The human slipped the tip of a finger beneath the leather and the skaven’s throat before pulling the collar taut. Skitch couldn’t help but shake his tail as it dug into his fur, squeezing tight around his slender neck.

“That good? You can still breathe, right?”

Skitch mumbled a confirmation.

“Good boy.” The human slammed his hips down, burying his entire length in the skaven’s rear, before squishing his face flat against the bed. “Perk your ears for this.”

Skitch obliged. The sloppy gush of cum being hammered in and out of his asshole grew louder as the human hastened his thrusts. But cutting through that repetitive splatter was a sudden and definitive click, followed by the clink of a lock turning into place.

The human sighed and rolled his hands around the collar, kneading his fingers underneath the tight leather. He planted a kiss on the skaven’s forehead. “All mine…”

Skitch froze as reality set in — of what he agreed to, and what had happened. He shivered, and the lively ringing of that bell dangling from his neck was there to rub it in. To make sure he would never forget.

“S-Skitch… Skitch yours…”

“That’s right, Skitch.” The human flicked the golden bell, its eager chime filling the skaven’s ears. “Now, let’s make it official.”

The human tugged the top of Skitch’s collar, lifting his head. Skitch coughed as the leather squeezed tighter around the front of his neck. Unlike his previous tugs, the human kept pulling, eventually forcing Skitch’s snout to face the ceiling.

“Open wide, Skitch.”

Skitch didn’t have a chance to; The human slammed down and buried his length in the skaven’s ass, forcing his maw open in a sharp yelp. The human’s rolled around the front of his neck to rub and squeeze at the exposed section of throat just above the collar’s grip. He brought his other hand above the skaven’s snout. A tiny key dangled from between his thumb and index finger.

Just as Skitch realised what it was, the human let it fall. Into Skitch’s wide-open mouth. The key bounced over his tongue, coming to rest at the entrance to his throat.

“Swallow.”

Skitch closed his mouth and took a loud gulp. The key rippled down his throat, leaving behind a metallic aftertaste. It served only to taunt him — to drive home the fact he had just doomed himself to eternal servitude—

The human scratched behind his ears. “Good boy,” he said.

—and Skitch couldn’t be happier.