A Rat's Tail - Part 1
#1 of A Rat's Tail
Main Character Information
Name: Beatrix "Trix" Nightshade
Species: Ratling
Gender: Shemale
Fur: Coal-black, short, sleek.
Skin (tail, tongue, penis, nipples, etc): Pale pink.
Hair: Bright bubblegum-pink, brushed forward on top (think of a wave shape), long ponytail in back.
Eyes: Same color as hair.
Build: Slight but althletic. B-cup breasts. Shape is generally feminine. Legs and feet are plantigrade (humanlike).
Height and Weight: 5 ft 9 in, 127 lbs.
It was morning...at least for me, anyways. The weathered and streaked window of my rented room afforded an ill view of what was no doubt an impressive sunset. All I could make out was a swath of orange and red splattered behind shadows of other buildings in town. I squinted my eyes as I knelt on the worn bed, and I felt no real loss for missing the daylight...my activities and my eyes tend to favor the night anyhow. I pulled off the long off-white shirt I always wear to sleep in, leaving naught but my underwear on me, and slid off the bed. The floor was cool, but not cold, thankfully. As the sun gave its last gasp before winking out, my eyes awoke to the darkness, transforming my room into vibrant hues of black and grey. Only the bright colors remained. The crimson of my cloak, draped on the room's old dresser. The amethyst in the hilt of my shortsword, laying in its scabbard on the stand next to the bed. The small ruby in the center of my silver medallion. Little splashes of color in my grey world, perhaps a vivid reminder that there was more to my life than shadows and lies...
...yeah, right.
They say the Wheel of Fate is always turning. Personally, I like to think of it as a racing chariot that runs down anyone not quick or clever enough to get the Hells out of the way. I pulled on my grey longshirt, buckled my sword belt on, retrieved my pistol crossbow, and finally donned my cloak. It was night, and I had things to do. I gave my gear a second check, noting every item in my pouches or on my person in that big list in my head, marking them off just as I do every time. All accounted for, as usual. I pull the hood of my robe up, and exit my room, locking the door behind me. It was a short walk down to the main room, and I ignored all the sitters and drinkers to make my way straight to the innkeeper, placing the key on the counter at the back and sliding it toward him. I had paid in advance, so there was no need for a chat, which suited me just fine. I made my way casually yet purposefully toward the door, and took my leave of the place. I wouldn't miss it. The room was only slightly less lousy than the food.
A cool, clear night greeted me. The stars were bright, as was the slivered shape of the moon, grinning down at me like the phantom mouth of some pale, dead god. I found myself gazing heavenward for a few moments before I set off to my appointed meeting. This would be my third "date" with Cedric the Warlock...a foul and contemptible excuse for a half-elf if ever there was one. Unfortunately, he's also the only supplier of naga blood in this or the neighboring kingdom, my poison of choice for the quarrels of my crossbow. The city was quiet, and so I walked in thoughtful silence to my destination, a small alley that leads to an open nook behind the local leather shop. I noted the distinctive red highlights of Cedric's robe, as darkness proves no obstacle to me, and approached him with my usual pretense of casuality.
"Ah! My dear Trix...always so punctual. One of many things of I have come to appreciate about you", he said in his ever-oily manner of speaking. Perhaps he fancied himself as charming. He pulled his hood back, exposing his lean face, trimmed goatee, and pointed ears. He kept his hair short, and always seemed to have the air of someone very full of himself. It sickened me, what I had to do to get my poison, but the damnable thing was that part of me loved it.
"I'm flattered", I responded sarcastically, raising one eyebrow. "So, what's your price this time?"
He smiled lecherously, and licked his lips. "Twenty crowns, and the usual, my dear ratling girl..."
I nodded and sighed. My cloak came off first, then my belt, then my shirt. I left my panties on for him to remove them, as he preferred. My clothes were piled neatly atop a crate near the rear wall of the leather shop. He wasted no time in lewdly groping my breasts, playing with them like his personal toys, fiddling with my nipples. In spite of myself, I started getting aroused, my shaft sliding out and stiffening as it pitched a tent in my panties. My tail began to whip and quiver. He started sucking on my tit as he stroked me through my undies, making me whimper and squeak with pleasure. I hated the bastard, but I had to admit, he really knew how to get me going. After a bit of this teasing stimulation, he slid around behind me and held one breast, kneading it while freeing my member from its prison of silky cotton.
His strokes were quick and smooth, and he had me leaking within moments. I gasped and squirmed, and he kept whispering into my ear what a sweet and slutty little rodent I was. I've never had the best control, at least not sexually, and I gasped as he brought me to a rather quick and intense peak. A few squirts of cum spattered onto the stones of the back alley, while my shaft twitched in his hand. He continued to slowly stroke me after that, working my left nipple in his fingers, making sure that I would stay hard. I squirmed and whimpered, my body tingling with pleasure, and my balls felt pleasantly empty for the moment. Then, he drew back and removed his robe, as well as undoing the crotch of his trousers. I watched his own member come out, bigger than mine and just as stiff, and then he led me over to the wall.
I braced myself against it, curling my tail up toward my back, leaning over to expose my ass. He slid his hand over my shaft, playing with it and my balls a little, then rubbed his fingers over my pucker. I keep my tailhole very clean, not for him mind you, but just as a general practice. He produced a small bottle of a slippery oil, put some on one finger, and then eased the digit up into me. I groaned a little, especially when I felt pressure on that sweet spot inside my rear. After lubing me up inside, he put a little oil on his member, and stroked himself until it was slick. I felt his hands on my hips, and then a brief pressure on my ring before a warm, firm length of flesh slid into and filled my rump. I let out a small moan, as being filled felt so good, even if it was by some low-life potions dealer. He rode me slow at first, then harder and firmer, his hips slapping into my tush. I moaned more, my small claws digging into the wood siding, and I could hear him groaning faintly. I almost found myself wishing he would last a while, but then I felt his shaft jumping inside me, and then the warm spatters of wetness inside my bowels. I bit my lip and shivered.
He pulled out after, but instead of going further, he tucked his member away and casually donned his robe...leaving me still worked-up. Cursing his sadistic little tricks, I got dressed again myself, trying to ignore the insistent hardon covered by my longshirt. I paid him the twenty gold, and he just laughed at my lingering arousal. I should be bitter, but then again, the one time I saw this poison for sale at the alchemy shop it went for twice what he charges.
"You should stop by the brothel, Trix. Get someone to let you work that off in them", he said with a wicked grin, pocketing my gold. As we parted company, the stiffness in my undies and the warm feeling in my rear convinced me that he might be right. I have the coin to spare, and it'll be hours before I need to be at the merchant camp for my...appointment. Better that I not be tense when I go, and besides, I hadn't felt a wet peach on my rathood in over a week.
Perhaps this was going to be a good night after all.
The brothel in this town was a casual affair, as tasteful as it was sleazy, mixing candlelit rooms, long curtains, and quilted beds with heavily pornographic paintings and lewd sculptures. I greeted the Madam, a rather full-figured human woman with dark and wavy hair, and inquired about the girls. She started running down the list as I looked around the foyer, my ears perking at the sounds of thumping and moaning from somewhere upstairs.
"Wait...did you say that you have a lizardwoman?", I interjected into the recital, and she stopped and nodded.
"Mm-hmm...started just a few days ago, sugar. Real popular with those who like the exotic, but I guess you're kinda exotic yerself, aren't ya darlin'?", she winked at me, and I just smiled. I've been here many times, and I've grown to like her. I paid up front, as always, though I paid less since I'd made their list of "frequent clients" as of a few weeks ago.
The lizard girl was introduced to me as Seshala, and she was a slight creature with strikingly blue eyes and a fine covering of autumn-orange scales over her body. She was completely nude, and her body was smooth and generally featureless, except for the pouty slit between her thighs. I casually slid my hand down her belly, moving my fingers down to that slit, and eased the middle one inside her. She trilled softly and smiled, then licked my muzzle. I smiled back, and the two of us headed for a room at the back of the brothel.
The room assigned to her had been decorated with hanging plants and a couple of floral bannerets, giving it a rather tropical feel. After locking the door behind us, she proceeded to undress me with care and skill, pausing to give pleasure everywhere she could. She ran her tongue around my ears, suckled at my nipples with loving tenderness...she even gave my tailhole a soft and sensual tonguing. Then those smooth lips slid down my shaft, taking me into her pretty snout, and she gave me a long and leisurely suckling.
I trembled when I came in her mouth, gasping with each spurt, and she pulled at my member with her lips to get every drop of my juice. She stood up after that, smiling and flicking her tongue, and led me to the bed. We layed on it and cuddled for a bit, Sesha pleasing my breasts and nipples, teasingly licking and mouthing at my tailtip...all to get me worked up for the finish. When I was hard and ready again, she rolled on her back and spread her legs, offering her slit to me. I moved over her eagerly, and let my shaft slide into that slick, tight, sensual place between her thighs. I couldn't help but moan...she felt so good, so perfect.
I stroked myself into her, quick and deep, making us bounce slightly on the bed. She held me as I humped her, making more of those happy trilling noises, as well as the occasional gasp or moan of her own. When I started to get close, she cupped my breasts, and latched onto a nipple to give it a firm suck.
I cried out, shaking as I came in her.
I shot as much spunk as I had left into her perfect tunnel, pressing my sheath against her slit, and after it was over I felt wonderfully drained and satisfied. After I slipped out of her and slowly got up off the bed, we chatted while I got dressed, and I told her my name and a little about myself. Nothing about my profession, of course. She turned out to be a local, and I made a note that I would be coming to the brothel just for her from then on.
She was flattered, and I was true to my word. She was always good, that one...every time.
Now that I'd had the opportunity to unwind, it was time to get down to business. The merchant camp always settled just outside of the city proper, usually in some swath of land as yet unoccupied by farmers or tradesfolk. It was one man in particular, a grizzled dwarf named Bargum, that I was after at this wayfarer's gathering. A few weeks ago, he'd seen fit to have his way with the daughter of the town blacksmith. Old Gunther didn't take too well to that, especially not after he'd taken the dwarf as his apprentice, and the runty bastard has been on the run since.
I hope she was worth it, not to mention the goods that he stole from old Gunther, because tonight was the night I would end his life.
There are three basic steps to doing a job like this. First, always get half your fee up front. Even if your employer backs out on the contract, you've still got half, and you can always kill him for cheating you later. Second, study your target. I'd spent most of that week watching the dwarf, learning his routines, as well as those of the other merchants and the guards. I bought the poison tonight so that it would be as fresh and potent as possible...dwarves are hardy folk, and not easily felled. Third, always have an escape plan, in case you need it. They always keep a messenger's horse tied up near the front of the encampment, the perfect fast getaway if I should be discovered.
I chose an approach that took me through the wheat field of a local farmer. Crouched low in the tall wheat, I made my way slowly as I got closer, making barely a whisper of noise as I moved carefully and confidently toward the camp. My ears kept alert for any sound out of place, but there was only the random chatter of boisterous and silver-tongued merchants. When I reached the clearing, I made a quick move into the shadows of the first nearby tent. Passing from one shadow to the next, I avoided the braziers and campfires, both for the sake of stealth and to keep my darksight active. When I had reached the tent next to the dwarf's wagon, I laid low and waited for the gathering to quiet down and disperse, giving him time to retire for the evening.
It was a long wait, but I was used to it. I passed the time stargazing, always a pleasant hobby, and by the time I had imagined my third new constellation I picked up the dwarf's voice coming closer to my position...or more accurately, toward his wagon.
I hid and waited.
When I heard snores coming steadily from the wagon, I slowly slinked around the back and entered through the flap. Poised silently over the dwarf, I started my work. The blacksmith had been very specific...he wanted Bargum to suffer helplessly before he died, just as the old man's daughter had suffered under the cruel hand of the lecherous dwarf. First, I removed my vial of poison, and placed one drop on the dwarf's lips. He smacked his lips absently in his sleep, then started to snore again...and then he opened his mouth and eyes wide, barely able to gasp.
I smiled down at him. "Good evening, Bargum. What you're feeling is the effects of naga venom. You won't be able to speak or move, but you'll be able to feel everything I'm about to do to you. If it helps, you could always find something to think about to distract you from the agony...seeing as you can't scream, you could always think about how much Kara screamed. She begged you to stop, but you wouldn't listen, and now you have plenty of people to listen, but you can't beg." He turned his eyes as much as his paralyzed body would allow, looking at me in shock, his breath shallow and panicked. "I find that delightfully ironic, don't you?"
I began to set out a few items...a sanding block, a potato knife, a branding iron. I looked down at him as I took out the coal tongs, clasping the first of many fingers in them.
"Gunther sends his regards."