Chapter Text
There’s a strange city on the edge of the Reikland.
It began as a small hamlet, barely a place to stop and rest when making the journey from Nuln to Altdorf, and grew little in the many decades since it was founded - and with precious little it could use to stand out among the Empire’s bigger, more learned, and wealthier cities, anyone looking to actually make something of themselves ended up leaving for the capital, the College of Engineers, or far-off Marienburg, leaving the sleepy little village they were born in to continue stagnating, occupied by nothing but drunks and grubby tradesmen.
Nothing could be further from what the city looks like now.
Something happened in recent years, and as a result, interest in that little village exploded - and took its economy with it. Now, it sprawls across the landscape as a prosperous and bustling market city, spilling across the river and swallowing up its neighbors to try and contain the newfound fortune coursing through its streets and streaming in through its gates.
Many wondered what could have sparked such a strong revitalization of such a backwards settlement - what claim to fame the city had that could tempt even Altdorf nobles and merchants into sniffing around for a way in, or for a chance to get their foot in the door…
The answer was an open secret.
A backroom deal with ‘enemies’ of the Empire.
An open backdoor for the two parties to slip back and forth, in and out of each other’s territory, allowing them to trade gifts.
Warpstone in one direction.
Merchandise in the other.
The people in charge knew about it, of course, but it saw no reason to put a stop to the arrangement when they only benefited; it kept the downstairs neighbors occupied, kept money flowing, and even got rid of those pesky rocks whenever they cropped up! Upsides all-around!
And as for what happened to those rocks? What was done with so many? They could only guess, but…
Warpstone was Chaos and mutation in crystal form - and rats turning into bimbos wasn’t exactly natural…
***
“No-no! Useless!” Mor Slavetaker, Warlord and master of Clan Taylbite, snarled and threw the Warp token he’d been chewing on at the clanrats who’d shuffled the latest test subject into his throne room, sending them and the experiment’s latest washout scattering as the rock smashed apart against the far wall.
“Whelp-meat! Meant to be strong-fearsome, but Mor sees only fodder-trash before him-him!” He continued, rising to his full height of five-foot-flat as he stalked toward his underlings, who took the cue to cower and grovel before their towering leader. “Which vile fool-thing here betrays mighty Warlord Mor to his rival-enemies? Sabotages mutation process?” He hissed, tail lashing back and forth behind him and striking up sparks from the stonework with every strike of the hooked blade at its tip.
“Deepest regret-apologies, wise-cunning Warlord! Most magnificent-mighty Mor! Spray Musk of Fear in his presence!” The Clanrats babbled over each other, each of the four scrambling to seem the most loyal, the most innocent, or the most unworthy of Mor’s notice as he loomed over them.
“But fault is not ours, great Warlord!” Of course, Skaven wouldn’t forget to lay the blame elsewhere just because they were focused on saving their own skins.
“Fault of Skryre-engineer! Mercenaries not loyal-trustworthy, not dependable like clanrats!” Of the four litter-runts before Mor, two actually were saboteurs, but they were looking to earn favor with Clan Skryre’s rivals by spoiling the Warlord’s pet project.
“No! Salves sure to be tainted-poisoned! Healer’s musk always smelled-seemed rotten!” A third was more obviously hoping to take one of his more immediate superiors down a few pegs - likely so he could make a play for the position once they weren’t an obstacle anymore.
“Subject is just weak-weak! Takes poor-badly to mutagens!” And the last one just felt like kicking the weakest among them while they were down, while he was at it.
“No-no!” Unable to continue holding its tongue as its own littermates offered it up to their furious master on a platter, the one Mor’s experiments had changed now spoke up. “Not my fault, Lord-Master Mor! Was-”
Even its voice was weak. Almost elfin in its delicate softness. An insult to Skavendom.
Mor’s lip pulled back from his teeth, and he sent the incompetents scrambling away with a razored flick of his tail across the floor. Caught off-guard and too startled to escape with the others, the sample of his experiments’ latest failure could only stumble backwards before falling over at the Warlord’s feet, where it stayed - vulnerable and trembling - as he took stock of the damage.
Circling the little cretin with a critical eye while ignoring its plaintive, fearful mewling, Mor assessed its transformation as he thought over how best to approach the next batch.
The whelp was small. Pathetically so; even if it hadn’t been shrinking in on itself and tucking its tail between its legs out of fear, the little runt would have only come up to Mor’s chin - and even worse, the already-feeble thing had somehow managed to lose muscle mass to the process, coming out even weaker than when it went in!
Not to say that the slave-thing didn’t grow at all during the process.
It was small - moreso than even the Clan’s other malnourished dregs - and it looked like it no longer even had the strength to lift the rusty little shivs the Skaven sent their cannon fodder out with…
but the little runt had grown nice and juicy after its treatment.
Its belly had developed the slightest hint of soft, squishable pudge while its thighs had grown firm and drumstick thick - and where its hips had widened and stacked on plenty of meaty padding to match, it was the runt’s ass that had fattened up the most, each of the round, bouncy cheeks under the slave’s tail easily big enough to fill a Rat Ogre’s greedy paw!
Even its chest was filling out, growing into a pair of perky little mosquito-bites capped with swollen, sensitive little nipples, like a breeder whelp’s before being pumped full of fertility enhancers!
In fact, just to make sure…
The slave-thing flinched as Mor’s tail-blade slashed its loincloth away, and the Warlord’s lip simply curled in rueful amusement. Definitely male - or used to be, to be more accurate - but soft as elf-meat, and barely an inch long.
“Please forgive-pardon, most great Warlord…” It mewled, curling in on itself and shielding its head from Mor with its arms.
At least this one wouldn’t end up breeding and passing its weakness on.
The Warlord took in the cosmetic changes next, brusquely yanking the runt’s paws out of the way - rounder, more gentle features, softer fur, smoother skin - but by now, he’d written the experiment’s seventh batch off as a wash. The only improvement it could even pretend at was cosmetic - and honestly, that was arguably worse than if nothing had changed and More had simply wasted all the Warpstone and tokens he’d burned on their alterations.
Mor genuinely couldn’t wrap his mind around what was going on…
Countless generations of slaves and clanrats - both the Clan’s own and ones taken from rivals - had been turned into a testbed for the mutagens he’d been concocting and the machines he’d commissioned from Skryre, but instead of making the worthless runts bigger and stronger like he wanted, everything he did seemed to push them in the opposite direction!
He wanted to make a Rat Ogre factory that would have put Clan Moulder out of business - or at least an army of instant Stormvermin that would give Clan Mors pause… but no.
Instead? He got meat.
Not even something he could actually turn into proper cattle, either, judging by the slave’s flaccid cock and shriveled little nuts. Just…
Useless.
Expensive.
Meat.
He raised his tail, already thinking about running the failure through and making a snack out of it to recoup a little of his loss… but even doing that only felt like more waste.
He’d sunk too many resources - the Clan’s, and more importantly, his - on this project to so easily let it fail.
Mor needed something useful to come of this. Something - anything!
But damned if he was going to put the work in himself. He’d done and wasted enough just getting this far - more economical now to just get a lackey to do it and then claim credit if they succeeded.
And as to which lackey he could trust to fight tooth and nail to make this work…
Mor eyed the runt.
Coiling his tail around its arm, he hauled it back up to its feet - slicing into its soft, tender skin and making it whimper as he did - before seizing it by the shoulders. “Slave-thing! Listen to Mor! Or I kill-gut now-now!”
The mutant squealed. Too overwhelmed to answer, it simply nodded and did its best not to shake apart from fear while the Warlord had it in his grip.
“Name! Now!”
“M-m-mee-” It nearly bit its own tongue as Mor shook it.
“Name!”
“Meeka! Meeka! Name is Meeka!” The failure- Meeka- frantically repeated, only stopping when More had shoved him away.
“Go! You bring Warpstone! Warlord Mor care-minds not how!” The Slavetaker screeched, and when Meeka’s uncertainty and confusion about somehow surviving the encounter left him hesitating, the Warlord jerked him back into the present by kicking him toward the nearest tunnel leading up to the Man-thing nest above them. “Go-go! Before Mor slay-flays!”
Meeka didn’t need to be told again; he scurried up the tunnel as quickly as his paws would carry him - his new tits and ass bouncing obscenely with every hurried move.
***
It was dark by the time Meeka had reached the surface, and most of the man-things had retreated into their burrows for the night, leaving the mutated rat a chance to sulk and lick his wounds unbothered and alone for once.
Still, he preferred to do it out of sight, just in case. Tucking himself into one of the cramped little alleys by the docks, Meeka finally took a moment to sit down, breathe, and consider what to do next.
The Warlord’s experiment had failed - no muscle or extra height for Meeka, only soft fur and softer curves, like some breeder-slave - and the Slavetaker naturally blamed everyone but himself, seemingly Meeka especially.
Yet despite that, he’d reined his rage in at the last minute; instead of just eating him and throwing the scraps to the rest of the Clan to fight over, the Warlord had chosen to send Meeka up to the surface to find and bring back one of the Horned One’s coveted gifts. Alone. Somehow.
Meeka dreaded what the Warlord might do to him if he came back empty-handed, but what was he supposed to do? The mutagens they’d pumped into his veins and the magic they’d woven into his body had robbed him of what little physical power he had rather than augmented it, and while he was never particularly sneaky, he’d never get anywhere trying to play Eshin now that every other step he took made his ass clap - hell, he could barely fit through some of the tighter tunnels now, thanks to his “enhancements!” He could barely scurry in a straight line, wobbling this way and that like this!
Worked up into a frenzy by his own terrible luck and self-pity, the ratman-turned-shortstack hissed down at his heavily-altered body and grabbed at the unwanted weights on his chest, squeezing and yanking at them in a frustrated attempt to just get them off - only to wince and bite back a mewl as a strange, shivery feeling ran up his spine and made him let go.
It wasn’t unpleasant, per se, but it was unfamiliar, unwanted, and very distracting; only the flushed little rat’s force of will kept his paws from drifting back up to try and recreate it.
Horned One must have cursed him for some failure, for him to be made so pitiful…
Meeka would just… have to rely on his brains, to get by now.
Lucky for him, he’d get the opportunity to try in just a few moments.
The sound of wood creaking and knocking together made Meeka’s ears prick up, and he looked around for the source-
Down by the riverside, if his ears weren’t wrong, where a tantalizingly familiar green glow was washing into the alley and bouncing off the dirty alley walls from.
Meeka swallowed, mouth dry and heart thumping in his little chest. Could it be…? Could things be turning out this well for him, after everything…? He could hear man-thing boots stomping around on the boards out there, but it didn’t sound like many of them - just one, in fact…!
There was no risk in investigating, Meeka convinced himself. Cautiously stealing closer, the Skaven-boy peeked around the edge of the alley and-
And his eyes nearly bugged out of his head in shock.
One of the Man-things’ little riverboats had stolen into the docks in the dead of night, piled so high with precious Warpstone poorly hidden and barely held secure under a patchwork of tarps that it was practically sinking under the glowing green treasure’s weight!
The shoddy little raft groaned louder, making Meeka’s ear twitch and his heart skip a beat. The idea of seeing all that Warpstone sink to the bottom of the river froze the blood in his veins with an icy, addict’s dread, and already he was picturing how to snatch as much of the stuff up and off its unsteady little home, where he could take it somewhere safe.
But Meeka wasn’t the only one looking to save the stuff, it seemed.
He heard a crack break the night’s silence, and a pulse of sickly green light rolled out from under the tarp as something - someone - slipped out from under it, cradling a hunk as big as Meeka’s head against their chest. Hurriedly hopping off the boat with a quiet ‘splash!’ before scrambling toward a pile of crates shoved to one side, Meeka watched the figure pry the top off of one before stashing the rock under the stinking fish piled inside.
It straightened up as Meeka crept forward, wiping its brow on its sleeve before turning back to the boat.
A Man-thing.
While it busied itself unloading more of the boat’s valuable cargo, Meeka crawled closer, tugging his rags tighter around himself while he gathered his courage.
“Damn witches…” Meeka just barely overheard it - him - over his own blood hammering in his ears. “‘Wait for me by the river,’ he says. ‘Too dangerous to take it into the city!’ he says… ‘What if someone sees me waiting around for your sorry ass with it?!’ I say…! Bastard. Last time I’ll ever deal with one of these woo-woo magic types…”
So the Man-thing was a smuggler - more importantly, he seemed more occupied with not getting caught with Man-thing contraband than he was getting caught at all.
That was good; Meeka would never have won a straight fight, but if his mark was distracted… he reached for the knife tied to his belt-
And then chittered a curse on his Warlord to the Horned One when he felt his paw grip the soft, doughy flesh and downy fur of his hip instead.
On any other day, he’d have just stabbed the wretched sub-Skaven getting his grubby mitts all over Meeka’s Warpstone and made himself - and maybe the rest of the Clan, had he been able to leverage it into making himself Warlord - rich… but Warlord Mor had kicked him out and sent him up without so much as a rusty shiv to use.
Meeka would just have to improvise. This was a lucky break, but by the sound of the Man-thing’s griping, not so lucky that Meeka could just wait him out…
Hanging back, crouched by a barrel full of fish with his tail flicking back and forth with nervous anticipation, Meeka continued to observe.
The Man-thing had tired himself out, carrying so much rock back and forth from his boat to his stash-spot… enough to slow him down, but not enough - Meeka figured - that a Skaven would be able to bring him down alone and unarmed.
What’s more, with so much of the Horned One’s gifts gathered, there was no way Meeka could carry it all back down to the Clan in one trip, even if he did best the smuggler who’d been so kind to drop it in his lap just when he needed it.
With all of that - and with the threat of whoever the smuggler was waiting for making an appearance any moment now - whirling in the rat’s thoughts…
Meeka decided with regret that he’d have to abandon the lion’s share.
He’d just filch a little, and then make his escape - not enough to slow him down or get him noticed, but enough to keep the Warlord from skinning him alive, plus a little extra for himself.
That’s what he told himself.
He’d play it safe and make plans to actually improve his situation - and his current useless, impotent breeder-body - another day.
That’s what he told himself.
But as he stole closer to the smuggler’s hiding spot and felt the Horned One’s blessings bathe him in their beautiful, green light - Meeka felt his self-control waver...
The stones whispered to him…
And before he could think twice, he grabbed the biggest, brightest piece and sank his claws in, scrabbling to take it from its slimy prison.
He hauled the whelp-sized stone up and out of its hiding place, but as he lifted it clear of the crate’s walls, the rock’s weight slipped down in his arms to settle against his chest-
Pushing both it and Meeka’s weight back over his new center of gravity, and sending him tipping backward like a felled tree.
Meeka let out a panicked squeak as he stumbled back, tripping over his own paws, but there was no saving himself now. His legs slipped out from under him, and a choked, wheezing grunt of pain tore its way out of his maw as the slab of Warpstone he’d tried to snatch fell on top of him, crushing him flat against the boards from the waist up and driving all of the breath out of the pudgy, pear-shaped ratbitch it had squished down and pinned.
He floundered beneath it, claws scratching ruts into the docks planks as he desperately tried to either crawl out from under it or push it off of himself - at least before he suffocated under it if nothing else - but no such luck.
And even worse…
“Hey, you!”
Meeka’s struggling reached a fever pitch, but already weak enough without being pinned under a magic boulder, he went nowhere. His only chance of escape at this point was if the wood under his back cracked apart and sent him falling into the river…
“Little thief…!” The smuggler hissed… then his tone changed as he took a closer look at Meeka, the anger in his voice slowly tinging with confusion - and curiosity.
“What the fuck…?”
Meeka stiffened as a rough hand seized his tail - only for the smuggler’s other hand to catch his leg by the paw and squeeze painfully when he lashed out.
“Filthy-” Meeka stopped himself, realizing his situation. “Ngh… Wise-cunning Man-thing caught Meeka, but… merciful…? Make deal…? Meeka can offer much-plenty…” He lied, holding his breath and praying he’d make it out of his second near-death experience today alive and at least mostly whole.
Squinting and almost blinded by the Warpstone pressing against his cheek and chest and keeping him pinned, all Meeka could pick up from his self-made prison was the sound of the smuggler shifting, pinning his tail under his leg while he grabbed Meeka’s legs by the ankles and parted them, examining his humble, dirty rag-clothes.
Out of Meeka’s sight, the smuggler’s lip crooked up into a smirk of recognition. Sweeter-sounding and more feminine than nasal compared to the usual, but this was definitely one of the ratmen… maybe one of the females, but it didn’t really matter for what he had in mind.
No reason to feel guilty screwing around with it, then!
He patted the rock, making the rat wince as its weight flattened his tits. “... I doubt that.” The smuggler drawled.
Meeka’s heart threatened to stop, but then the Man-thing spoke again, and Meeka let go of a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Far be it from me not to at least find out what I can get out of this while I wait for that bastard witch, though… Go on, rat. Make me an offer.”
Meeka blanked.
“I… I offer-give… Ngh…” He stuttered out, frantically wracking his brain for something he could conjure up that might get him out from under the slab of rock on top of him and back to the relative safety of the Under-Empire’s tunnels. “I… Nghrrr…”
The despicable slave-creature man-handling him chuckled. “Yeah. I figured.”
More loaded, anxiety-inducing silence passed, and Meeka forced himself to breathe, slow and steady as he could while pinned under a boulder, while the smuggler continued to toy with him. Took both his legs together in one hand, yanking them up while the other stroked his fur and explored his lower body, kneading and groping as it ran along his thighs and cupped his cheeks.
Meeka had to remind himself Man-things didn’t eat their prisoners like Skaven might to keep himself calm.
“Fuck it. Hole’s a hole, and probably only a little dirtier than the whores around here.” He heard the Man-thing mutter to itself.
“Tell you what, rat; I’ve seen your kind around before, under Altdorf - did my fair share of business with your type, in fact,” He continued as he pinched Meeka’s loincloth and lifted it up out of the way. “But I don’t think I’ve ever seen one that looked like you before.”
“Nh…?” Meeka only shivered, his exposed hole twitching and his soft little dick shrinking even further as the cold night air kissed his skin.
“I’ve got a trade idea for you.” The Man-thing’s voice dropped to a low, conspiratorial whisper, coming from just beyond the Warpstone like he was leaning down on top of it to speak to Meeka. “Won’t cost you anything but a bit of time, and if you do this just right, I might even let you walk away with a few pebbles of this stuff you all seem to love so much. How’s that sound?”
Meeka’s ears pricked up at that. Nose twitching with excitement, Meeka slowed his attempts to escape as he weighed his options. “I… what is your want-desire…?”
“For starters, what’s your name?”
The Skaven’s hackles raised involuntarily as he recalled the last person who asked him that. “M-Meeka…”
“Good. I think it’s more polite to know who you’re plowing, even if you only ever call them ‘whore’ and the like.” The smuggler snickered, tugging the rat’s loincloth off and tossing it aside. “Speaking of - my name’s Leon.”
Meeka didn’t quite understand the turns-of-phrase the Man- Leon was using, but his tone made it more than clear that the Skaven ought to have been worried.
Not that he was in any position to refuse…
Just as Meeka opened his mouth to reply though, Leon cut him off, pulling a flinching, startled yip from the Skaven’s lips as he spread his cheeks apart and spat a hot, sticky gobbet of drool straight into the juicy little furbitch’s asshole - before twisting the noise into a sharp gasp of confused pleasure and making him arch his back so hard he nearly bucked the Warpstone off as he shoved his fingers into him, working the warm, slimy sensation of human spit into his buttpussy while Leon loosened him up and got him ready for what was coming next.
“S-stop! S-slow…!” Meeka hissed and squirmed, but between his new, drug-weakened frame and the unfamiliar yet gut-deep waves of ecstasy rolling over him, it was easy for Leon to keep him helpless as he pumped his fingers in and out of the Skaven’s gradually-surrendering backdoor.
The smuggler just smiled to himself, quietly grunting with pleasure as Meeka’s pucker clamped down around his knuckles and his tail swished back and forth against the docks.
“Just a little virgin, huh…? Never let anyone back here…?” He teased. “Find it hard to believe, when you’re dragging around some thick, juicy meat like this…!”
Yanking his hooked fingers out of Meeka’s ass - earning another defeated squeal from the ratboy’s lips and a vulgar spurt of saliva from his violated hole - Leon cracked his palm hard against his toy’s doughy bubblebutt, making it ripple deliciously under his greedy eyes.
“Taal…” Leon bit his lip. If every ratman was built like this, forget conquering the Empire - they could have walked right into Altdorf and sat on the Emperor’s lap, and he’d thank them for it!
He gave Meeka another hard spank - half for luck, half just to marvel at how juicy the little shortstack was - and the horny ratbitch moaned.
That made Leon grin, and made the tent in his trousers throb with anticipation; he couldn’t see Meeka’s snouted face under that rock of his, but Leon knew what a bottom-boy sounded like, and the embarrassment and naked, shame-filled arousal dripping from Meeka’s voice screamed bitch.
“Like that do you, licebait…?” Leon chuckled in a low, predatory murmur as he palmed Meeka’s cheek, smearing his spit into the short, downy fur there as the rat flinched away from his touch - only to be yanked back and have his ass kneaded like some cheap toy.
“N-no…”
Crack!
Meeka squealed as Leon’s hand smacked into his other cheek, the sting barely having any time to fade before his fingers speared back into Meeka’s pucker.
“Tell the truth, slut.” The smuggler ordered, curling his digits into a claw and digging for a particular weakspot he knew would be there while Meeka groaned, on the knife’s edge between overwhelmed by pleasure and overwhelmed by pain. “You like being treated like a whore, don’t you?”
“... Sh-shameful…” Meeka managed - barely - between strained little grunts and breaths. His cock twitched and jumped with every stroke of Leon’s fingers closing in on his weakspot, but even a lowly runt like him had some pride-
Smack! Smack!
Smacksmacksmack!
Leon’s hand whipped Meeka’s bubblebutt, smacking it left and right until the rat was shrieking and hissing with pain and barely holding back his tears, and it was practically glowing red through the bitchboy’s fur.
“Say it!”
Meeka wailed the right answer. “Yes! Yes-yes, Meeka loves abuse!” He sobbed, prick weeping watery pre onto his belly with him.
“Good girl, licebitch!” Leon snarled, hawking a glob of slobber up deep in his throat and spitting it into the deep valley of Meeka’s ass. His fingers slid in right after it - three instead of two, this time - and started gliding along the walls of the ratty pussyboy’s cheekmeat, lathering the whiskerslut’s crack with a thick coat of drool before they finally found his hole again.
Once they grazed its puckered little rim, Leon stabbed them into Meeka without so much as a word of warning and started pistoning his hand into the rat’s buttcunt, frigging the extra lube into his rear end with a sloppy, fever-pitch ‘schlickschlickschlickschlick!’ so loud they nearly drowned the licebait whore’s breathless, squeaking moans and whines.
Gritting his teeth and fighting to push down all the terrible, humiliating, feminine sounds Leon seemed so determined to tear out of him, Meeka folded his ears flat against his skull, face burning with shame.
Bad enough he’d been mutated into this horrible breeder-body, and bad enough that the Warlord seemed to have it out for him; now not only was this Man-thing forcing all these strange, painful, and addicting new sensations on him…
They seemed to give him more control over Meeka than the Skaven himself had!
He was convinced this his half of ‘trade’ was just some humiliation ritual, meant to degrade Skaven as a whole to feed the Man-thing’s ego and to haunt Meeka from then on with the messy, vulgar noises his asshole made as Leon molested him-
And yet, Meeka didn’t want him to stop…!
His body roiled with ecstasy each time the filthy slave-brute looming over him dug deeper into his sloppy, twitching pucker, and his limp little dick pulsed and squirted a fresh, empty load of cockslime each and every time the smuggler’s fingers came close to scraping against their goal!
Meeka wanted more. He needed more - given half the chance, he wouldn’t even bother trying to escape over just pushing his ass back against that stupid human’s hands so he could finally scratch that insatiable, maddening itch deep in Meeka’s guts - but with a slab of Warpstone sandwiching him against the boards and his ankles caught up and trapped in Leon’s other hand, he could barely even cock his hips!
He hissed and screwed his eyes shut, lashing his tail under Leon’s weight while the Imperial plumbed his innards by hand, certain the Horned One would smite him for what he was going to say next, but he needed this.
He needed this man to pound his sissy G-spot flat!
“F-fuck me…” He whimpered, the Man-things’ ugly language unfamiliar in his maw. Another humiliation that nevertheless thrilled him in a perverse, submissive way he didn’t fully understand. “Fffuck meee… please-please…!”
Leon’s pace slowed to a stop, and the ratslut’s leg kicked as his tail lashed fitfully under the smuggler’s knee. This was exactly the one thing Meeka didn’t want at this point…!
“What did you say?” He asked.
Meeka’s lip pulled away from his teeth in a grimace, and he shuffled awkwardly under the Warpstone on his chest, trying to get a look at his rapist.
It was humiliating to repeat himself, but… something about Leon’s tone told him he had heard Meeka just fine. He just wanted him to say it again
And Meeka wanted to obey.
“F-fuck me… R-rut Meeka…” The rat tried again, using more familiar language this time and hoping he’d sound more convincing that way. “Please-please?”
The Skaven’s ears twitched. Leon gave no response, but Meeka felt him adjust his grip on his ankles and pull his butt up higher, shifting his weight around on his knees-
And then a white-hot stab of ecstasy shot up his fuckhole and made his back arch, driving what little air was still in his lungs out in a pained, breathless grunt and forcing a squirt of impotent jizz out from his limp little pecker as Leon impaled his poor, brutalized butt, hilting his fingers knuckle-deep into Meeka’s innards - just deep enough to poke into his cumbutton and send a shockwave of buttslut bliss through the whiskerslut.
“You want me to fuck you?” Leon repeated, pumping in and out of Meeka’s asspussy while his helpless furslut mewled and whimpered and squeezed down desperately around his fingers. “You want me to fill this slutty little fleabag bitchhole of yours with cock? Do I have that right?”
“Yesss…!” Meeka’s leg twitched as he confessed, kicking weakly in Leon’s grip while he dug his other hand deeper into the whorish little fleabag’s fattened-up cheekmeat, “Meeka wants Man-thing breeding, now please…!”
“Please what?” Leon pressed him.
“Please ffffuck Meeka!” He sobbed.
The rim of his asshole fluttered, practically sucking on Leon’s hand out of its bonedeep need to be filled.
Fuck. Leon had to shift his legs to try and ease the uncomfortable tightness settling around his hog as it throbbed against the fabric. Forget just getting him ready, all the poor ratslut’s little noises and reactions only made Leon want to bully him more…
Made him harder, and just as hungry for ratboy buttpussy as Meeka was for some big human cock.
“Fine.” Leon growled, pulling his hand out from his bitch’s messy, newly-minted fuckhole - and relishing the way Meeka went limp in his grasp, too overwhelmed to do anything else. “I think you’re about ready now, anyway.”
His toy just mewled as Leon shifted between his legs, slipping the rat’s paws around his broad, brutish waist and all but forcing him to split around his bulk. Part of Meeka felt a little hesitant now that he had an idea of just how much bigger the Man-thing was compared to him - but all he had to do was think about how much cock a frame like Leon’s would be packing, and all of a sudden all his nerves would turn to butterflies in his stomach…
“Get ready, whore.” Leon’s tone was blunt, accompanied by nothing but the sound of his belt being unbuckled and his trousers crumpling to bunch around his knees.
The meaning was clear enough. He wasn’t going to wait for his bitch to get comfortable before jamming his cock into him.
Meeka just took a deep breath-
And then hugged his thick little legs around Leon’s waist, tail gently winding around the bigger man’s thigh.
“Good girl.”
Meeka mewled.
He shivered under Leon as the smuggler’s big, callused hands gripped his meaty hips.
And then he squealed, shrieking like a banshee as something hot and hard and thick as both his wrists put together buried itself between his cheeks and lanced up into his guts with a thick, sopping-wet ‘SPLAT!’
Leon didn’t give the slutty little tranny-rat any time to adjust, either. Tightening his grip on Meeka hard enough to leave fingerprint dents in his haunchmeat, the smuggler yanked him back so that the juicy shortstack’s fat bubblebutt was practically resting in his lap - flush against his belly - before pounding into him and piledriving the jiggling little whore so hard he started sliding back under the rock he’d been pinned under all night.
And for his part? Meeka’s mind all but snapped in two the moment Leon’s balls clapped against his furry, spitsoaked cheeks, and all he could do now - pinned under rock and a rowdy, horny stud - was scream himself hoarse and try to ride it out.
Maybe the other rats would mock him for letting himself be defiled in such a humiliating way, or maybe they’d call him a failure for losing so decisively - and so quickly - to Man-thing meat of all things… Whatever the answer, Meeka was in no state to care about it; not when Leon’s fat pussybreaker slammed back home inside his dumptruck boy-butt to pulverize his brains some more each time a single coherent thought even came close to being strung together between the ratboy-bitch’s ears!
Leon let out a low, throaty groan of appreciation as he sank balls-deep into the Skaven, squeezing the furry little cunt’s sides with a greedy - almost hungry - possessiveness each time he thrust into Meeka’s boycunt.
“Do all you licebitches feel like this…? Regret not doing this sooner if yes…” He chuckled, prick throbbing as he hilted it past Meeka’s pucker, rearranging the rat’s insides as it did. “Then again… most of you are usually pretty ugly. You’re the only fuckable one I’ve ever seen, in fact…!”
Leon pushed deeper, pancaking Meeka’s asscheeks against his groin as the Man-thing ground himself against the rat’s upturned butt and coaxed another whine of pleasure from his throat.
“Lucky me that I got my hands on a pretty little runt queer like you then, huh? Hehe… Pretty little pet…”
Leon’s hands slid down and his fingers dug into the rat’s ass, sinking into his meaty rear like he never wanted to let it go. “I oughta find another one like you to keep…” He sighed.
The hefty slab of fuckmeat pushing up into Meeka’s tailpipe and grinding against his bitchbutton was already sending warm, rolling waves of mind-melting bliss all through his system - but that last little whisper from the smuggler breeding his backside sent a hot, sharp shiver up Meeka’s spine, and his well-fucked, drool-soaked pucker fluttered around the man-cock stuffed inside him in sympathy.
He hated to admit it, but…
The moment Leon spoke the idea into the world, Meeka was already imagining setting himself into that spot.
Trailing the big, mean bully around like a lost pup, waiting and praying for him to get frisky enough that he’d want to make Meeka bend over and raise his tail, or have him waddle around and show off the thick, shameful body the brute seemed to like so much, or…
Or making another ‘deal’ that’d end with Meeka on his back, with his paws beside his ears and a big human cock pistoning in and out between his asscheeks…!
The Skaven whimpered, his tailpipe gripping Leon’s prick like it was virgin-tight again despite getting fingerblasted apart just a few minutes ago as his own soft, useless boyclitty spasmed and drooled out another weak little dribble of sissy-nut.
Good to know he could still cum, even if it was never going to come in useful…
Useful for anything other than catching Man-thing bullies’ attention, at least.
“Ngh…! Huh…? well, now…” The constant, boneshaking pistoning of dickmeat in and out of Meeka’s well-fucked hole slowed, and then stopped altogether, before Leon’s hand left his toy’s juicy hip to palm his cute, leaky little package. “Enjoying ourselves, are we…? Heh, and here I thought this little diversion was what I was getting out of this arrangement…” He chuckled, taking the chance to catch his breath while he pinched Meeka’s flaccid dicklet between his fingers and stroked it gently.
Meeka just mewled, panting quietly as the stud breeding his butt split his attention and began tormenting him from two angles, rolling his hips and feeding his dick-hungry asspussy while he toyed with his sissy-meat.
Then Leon laid his hand over Meeka’s whole package - cock and balls both - and closed his fingers around the whole thing, mercilessly tightening his hold until Meeka was back to making incoherent, animalistic little squeaks and whines, his legs kicking out involuntarily as he tried to squirm away from the crushing, aching pain.
Leon twisted, and Meeka yelped, his body going stiff and his back arching away from the ground as the thought of the smuggler simply pulling his cock off shot through his mind.
“Mn, y’know… this little ornament of yours is so small, I almost would’ve missed it if you hadn’t let it get a shot off. In fact, it’s almost cute.” Leon mused, humming to himself as he slow-fucked Meeka through his miniature cocklet’s torture. He dug the tips of his fingers in, threatening to nearly crush Meeka’s smooth little pouch in his hand - before letting go and simply smacking it, making the rat yelp and tighten up again around the real cock he had buried in his guts. “That being said though, I don’t really like boys - and now that it’s gotten my attention, I can’t really just ignore it anymore…”
Meeka’s breathing hitched as Leon ran his thumb along his length, just barely brushing against the skin as he traced the Skaven’s cumvein.
Somehow, even after just ‘cumming,’ Meeka’s little microcock was back to being as hard as it could get after Mor transformed him - and of all the things to bring it back to life, it was having his puny prick threatened and abused that did it…!
Leon smacked him hard on the balls, making the rat yelp and bite back a sniffling little cry as he was jarred back to the present. “I asked you a question, licebitch.”
Meeka exhaled shakily, trying to steady his voice. “Y-yes… yes-yes…?”
Another smack, and another keening sob as Meeka’s meaty little frame jerked away from pain and shock.
“Yes, master.”
Meeka’s heart skipped a beat, and he swallowed.
“Y-yesss… masterrrr…?” He repeated with difficulty, doing his best to suppress the nervous little tics every Skaven was a victim of.
Still lazily pumping in and out of Meeka’s butt, Leon pinched the base of the rat’s shrunken dick. “I don’t like boys - no matter how plump and fuckable they might be…” He began in an idle tone, like molesting your conversation partner out in the open was the most natural thing in the world. “So I think I’m gonna solve that issue of yours before I’m finished with you.”
Meeka swallowed hard, wondering if he’d survive being literally emasculated here and now, or if he would die before he could limp back home and lick his wounds.
“Since you’ve been so cooperative ‘til now, though… how about I let you decide how I go about it?”
Meeka paused, ears twitching. What was that supposed to mean…?
Leon tightened his hold, making his plaything hiss as he threatened to crush his puny dick right then and there. “Gimme an answer, or I’ll decide for you.”
“Yes-yes, please…!” Meeka squeaked- and then yowled, bucking as Leon backhanded his cock.
“Yes, master.” The smuggler corrected him.
“Yes! Yes, masterrr!” The Skaven sobbed, breathing hard as he blinked back tears.
Leon just laughed. “Good. Now, here’s your choices…”
“Option one:” The smuggler laid his hand back over Meeka’s crotch, gently massaging the poor thing’s battered little ballsack with the heel of his palm. By now though, Meeka knew to brace himself instead of trusting that his ‘master’s’ gentle touches would stay gentle. “I crush this useless little thing here and now, to make sure you don’t get any ideas about pretending to be a boy ever again.”
Meeka swallowed. “Nno-no, please…” He muttered- and then hastily added. “N-no, master.”
The Skaven didn’t need to see the Man-thing to know he was grinning from ear to ear. He could hear it in his laughter.
“Alright, so option two,” Leon said. “You tell me I was wrong from the get-go, and that you were a girl from the very beginning.”
“Huh…?” Meeka realized his mistake a fraction too late. “Wait! Wait-wait! I mean-!”
Thwap!
Meeka howled, gritting his teeth together tight and letting himself cry freely as agony pulsed through his lower body, centered on his balls.
“It’s a simple question, you dumb poof.” Leon sighed with exaggerated disappointment, taking advantage of Meeka’s helplessness to punish him with another harsh spank aimed at his frantically twitching little pecker. The rat’s whole body went rigid, and Leon bit back a grunt of delight - both at how Meeka didn’t even bother hiding his pathetic, ragged-throated weeping, and at how his ass tightened up in weak, involuntary little pulses that milked his shaft just right. “Do you want me to crush your wimpy little prick and make you a girl, or do you wanna tell me I had it wrong, and that I’ve been fucking a cute, obedient little cunt from the very beginning?”
He squeezed the girly sissy-rat’s little beanbag between his fingertips, and chuckled as Meeka sucked in a small, frightened breath, shaking like a leaf under him - even while his brutalized, buttbroken hole squeezed and massaged and pulled at his prick, like it was begging him to go deeper.
“I… Nhr… Meeka is- Meeka is breeder, Master…” The Skaven swallowed hard and licked his- licked her lips before continuing, the same perverse excitement that goaded her into asking for this leading her on to say what she was thinking now out loud. “Meeka is Master’s breeder… Man-thing… Human only - not for… for weak-stupid vermin Skaven…”
“Ngh…!” Leon’s cock throbbed at that, grinding against the rat’s anal G-spot and making her gasp and grit her teeth. “Good girl…” He groaned, half-laughing and petting Meeka’s hip like a well-loved pet as he drew the last word out.
Meeka’s snout flushed, understanding the gesture well enough to know the praise was meant to mock just as much as flatter. Humans really did like to think of themselves as superior…
Meeka wasn’t so sure she disagreed anymore, though; in fact - as Leon slowly drew his prick out of her hole, letting it drag against her walls and holding her steady with surprisingly gentle hands while she squirmed and leaked - Meeka felt like she was inclined to agree.
There wasn’t a single rat in the world who could do this to her; not one who could mix pleasure with the pain and make her want the bullying. Not a single one who could make her want to obey and give herself up, instead of forcing her to with fear and threats of cruel, unusual punishments.
And of course, now that Leon had given her a taste for it - a need to feel so completely, wonderfully filled…
There wasn’t a Skaven alive that was anywhere near hung enough to compete with the monstercock that had just rearranged her insides, and was scraping deliciously against her inner walls as its owner drew it out of her well-fucked pussy.
Leon only stopped when just the head was left inside his new pet bitchrat - but he didn’t push back in just yet.
No. Instead, he stayed there, savoring the way Meeka’s greedy pucker gripped at him, trying to pull him back in, and the way the licebitch herself mewled and panted and whined as she fought the urge to push her hips back against him and fuck herself on the monstercock that broke her into a whole new kind of addiction.
It was better proof than anything that could have come out of her mouth that she wasn’t just trying to stroke his ego. She wanted him to keep going. To keep fucking her. To keep making her a girl - his girl.
And Leon would reward that honest want of hers the way he knew a depraved, masochistic furslut like Meeka would want.
He shifted his weight forward - folding Meeka nearly in half as he leaned over the little gutterslut - and slammed his hips down, slamming home against the bitchrat’s upturned butt like a guillotine.
A strangled, breathless squeak forced itself out of Meeka’s lungs as the Warpstone and Leon crushed her under their combined weight, and her claws scrabbled at the rock as her instincts suddenly took over, screaming at her to push the load off to save herself.
Of course, she failed. If she couldn’t budge the rock alone earlier, what hope did she have of doing it now, battered and bruised, stripped of any possible leverage, and with even more weight bearing down on her?
She forced herself to inhale as much as she could to keep her lungs full- only to choke and wheeze as Leon’s mammoth-sized dick rammed into her belly-button from the inside and drove what little air she managed to take in back out.
She tried again, and barely took in half as much as last time before Leon’s merciless assfucking forced her to cough it up as his balls slapped against her ass - she couldn’t even try a third time, now that he was picking up the pace and all but crushing her into the docks’ rough, oily boards.
No, there was no chance she was going to be able to just lay back and take it-
Or take it and live, more accurately.
Was she going to die here…?
Was she going to be crushed to death while being rutted like some common breeder-slave…?
She’d just discovered she was a girl…
To have traded her dignity - her identity - for her life, only to lose it anyway… and all so some Man-thing could indulge his lusts for a few minutes, at that…
The unfairness and indignity of it all should have made Meeka weep-
But instead, the broken furslut’s lust-addled mind welcomed the idea of such a perverted exit.
Of submitting to her master.
Offering her worthless ratcunt life up to him, all just so he could cum… She couldn’t think of anything that could make her happier in that moment-
But of course, thinking at all was hard when her lungs were burning and every bone in her body was grinding together, crumpled up and stuffed far beyond capacity as her plump, pearshaped little body was.
None of that mattered to her, anyway.
Limp little ratclitty twitching madly and leaking like a broken faucet all over her belly, Meeka laid back and just squeezed, pouring all of her energy into gripping the big, meaty bully-cock hammering into her deepest untouched places and milking it for every drop it was worth.
If she was really going to die here, then she was going out with a bang, and she’d do it cumming her brains out on MAN-THING MEAT!
Those last few, frantic moments, Meeka’s body operated on nothing but instinct, desperately pushing back up to meet Leon’s hips as they crashed down into her and drove her back into the dirt.
And, almost offended by the fact Meeka still had it in her to try and participate beyond acting as a mindless cumdumpster for him to empty his balls into, the cockhungry Skaven-traitor’s Man-thing stud rewarded the meager pushback she managed to muster up with even more brutality, slamfucking her so hard and so fast that her entire frame jiggled with each impact - and any strength she had left ended up squashed out of her in faint, rattling little breaths.
Meeka was starting to fade now, and quickly - but she didn’t mind, and she happily closed her eyes and laid back to let it happen.
She didn’t have anymore femme-cum for Leon to squeeze out, or any more brains to turn to mush. All she had to do now was stay warm long enough for him to bust his nut in her ass…
Right as she’s about to slip into the dark completely though, Meeka heard her master speak.
“You’re not getting off that easy, cunt.”
He hilted himself in her - making her limp, emptied-out clit jump one last time - and then Meeka felt the weight threatening to kill her lift off her chest as the grinding sound of stone-on-wood rumbled away above her head.
Something thudded just above her ears, and as Meeka sucked in a greedy lungful, she opened her eyes just in time to see her master leaning in to scoop her up in his arms and wrap himself around her, practically swallowing her up in a tight, inescapable embrace.
“I think that’s two life debts you owe me now.” He cooed, chuckling in her ear as he sat her in his lap and buried her face in his chest. “Gonna have you fucking that off for a long time.”
“Look forward to it.”
Meeka opened her mouth to respond - and simply squeaked as he pushed her down.
Between his hold on her and her short, fun-sized frame, it was child’s play for Leon to pull her up and down his shaft - to make her broad, meaty bubblebutt take his dick as deep as he liked and as fast as he liked without the risk of breaking his new bitch any more than he wanted to.
So he did.
He leaned back and jerked his hips in short, lightning-quick little piston-pumps into his furry little fleshlight, hugging Meeka tighter against himself as she arched her back and squirmed freely in his arms, freshly overwhelmed and now able to properly thrash like a bitch on her stud’s cock now that she was free.
It wasn’t like she was really trying to escape anyway - but Leon liked the feeling of having to keep her trapped and pinned while the thrill of getting buttfucked overloaded the slutty rat’s system.
A lot, in fact.
Hugging her to hold her steady, Leon started really ruining this chunky little bitch that had fallen into his lap tonight.
His hips bucked up and he smashed Meeka down to meet his thrust, driving his prick deep into the fat, pillowy cheekmeat that were his property now - and he didn’t stop.
He hammered into her, bouncing her jiggly little frame up and down in his lap and holding her tight to make sure he had no escape as he clapped against her fat ass harder and faster and harder still. He threw any sense of rhythm to the wind, and he barely cleared an inch pulling out before jerking himself back into the deepest depths of his cute, bullyable little bitchrat’s tight, purpose-built cunt.
Every squeal and whine he fucked out of her mouth pushed him closer to finally cumming - and when his balls finally began to tighten up and Leon felt he’d dragged the night’s wonderfully violent little diversion out long enough…
He planted Meeka’s ass against his crotch, buried himself balls-deep, and painted her insides with hot, sticky ropes of a real man’s cum for nearly a full minute, pumping her so full that even the hungry, sucking seal her backdoor made around his shaft couldn’t hold his load in, and let a pressurized little backsplash glaze his balls and the inside of her juicy crack before drooling down to stain the dockplanks.
Leon sighed as Meeka instinctively snuggled into him, enjoying the afterglow of being dominated and bred so thoroughly. Then, once the moment had passed, he hauled the rat off of his lap and let his meaty prick slip free of her clinging, cum-hungry cunt.
It brought a broad smile to his face to see the furry slut shiver, leaking his seed… but besides that, there was maybe one more thing he could teach Meeka to do for him.
He perched her on her knees between his legs and leaned back, nodding down at the slowly softening, cum-soaked prick draped across his thigh. “Clean me up.”
Sitting on her hip - naturally, considering how much her ass must have ached after all the abuse - Meeka just looked down at it, and then back up at him with a questioning, uncertain expression.
Leon rolled his eyes.
“Lick it, you dumb bitch.”
Slowly, hesitantly, Meeka shuffled forward and dipped her head low, opening her mouth and letting her tongue loll out so she could lap at Leon’s shaft. Then - as it started to stiffen again against the warm, wet press of her ‘cleaning’ - she grew a little more daring, gingerly wrapping a claw around the base to hold it steady while she swirled her taste buds along its length and traced Leon’s cumvein with the tip of her jizzrag tongue.
Leon put his hand on her head, right between her ears, and ruffled her fur. “Good girl… now, maybe see about putting those tits of yours to work. Slip it in-between them, make this fun.”
“Yeth-yeth, mathter…” Meeka lisped. Snaking her tongue around his shaft, the now-domesticated ratgirl sandwiched her master’s dick between her breasts, squishing them around him and letting him slowly grind and thrust between them - smearing her with warm, stinking Man-thing sperm even while she continued licking him clean and gulping their mingled sweat and juices down…
Leon leaned back, letting her get into the swing of her work without interfering - and Meeka proved it was the right move as she worshiped his shaft. Eyes drifting shut, she exhaled slowly through her nose while she wound her tongue around Leon’s merciless cock and all but jerked him off with it into her cleavage.
By the time she’d polished it all off of his crotch, Leon was hard again, and he was half-considering bending Meeka over and making another mess for her to gulp down, or at least making her lap up the wasted baby batter she’d so carelessly let spill out of her pussy - before he had the chance to make any fresh orders, though, he heard a carriage roll in and pull to a stop not too far away, followed by the door opening as someone stepped off.
Ah. The reason he came out here in the first place… Killjoy, as ever.
He sighed and pushed Meeka away from his balls, which she’d spent the last few minutes quietly, blissfully licking and sniffing. “C’mon. Fun’s over.” He told her. “Back to business.”
Climbing to his feet and then helping Meeka to hers, he fixed his pants while he approached the slab of crystallized Chaos magic she’d tried to steel from him. Eyeing it for a moment while his juicy little slutrat trailed behind him, he raised his leg and then stomped hard on a thin, cracked sliver close to the end, breaking a handful of chunks - each roughly the size of his fist - off of the stone.
Turning to Meeka, he jerked his head at the debris. “Help yourself.”
She blinked, not quite believing it. “Nh… so much…?” She asked.
Leon snorted and patted her on the head, letting the last touch roll down her back in a soft, affectionate, shiver-inducing stroke of her fur. “Call it incentive.”
“For what-what?”
He flashed her a grin. Sharper than a Man-thing’s normally was, it was almost Skaven-like in how predatory it looked - but it was definitely human in how it made Meeka’s tummy flutter.
“For getting fucked like a whore again.” He said. “If you want more Warpstone, come back here. Same time, same place, two weeks from now.”
Meeka’s heart skipped a beat at the idea.
“And… you rut-breed Meeka again, then?”
He laughed. “I should be getting something out of this little arrangement, shouldn’t I?”
Meeka saw the bulge in his pants twitch slightly as he stepped into her personal space, kneeling slightly to grab a handful of her ass. “You didn’t seem to hate it either, slut.”
The ratgirl swallowed. “Two weeks from now-now,” She repeated. “Here again, night-dark again.”
“Good girl.” Leon scritched her behind the ear, and any second thoughts about committing to the deal melted. “Run along now, I’ll see you soon enough…”
Nodding dumbly, Meeka gathered up her hard-earned Warp tokens and scurried away, slipping into the dark of the town’s alleys right as Leon’s buyer came to collect.
Both her heart and her thoughts were racing as she retreated into the Under-Empire, her head swirling with new feelings, needs, and ideas- most important among them, being:
Fuck Warpstone - big human cock was where it was at!