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"You must say-admit, Grey Seer Krikch, that it was my brilliant-cunning plan that won us the battle today. Without the perfectly timed attack of my warriors on the rear of the dwarf-thing line, your pathetic slaves would have been cut-slain to the last rat!"

The skaven named Marsh-Lurk leaned back on his plush cushion and shot an insolent grin in the direction of his fellow rat-mage, clearly relishing the anger that his harsh words had provoked. Like Krikch he was a Grey Seer, a Chosen of the Horned Rat, instantly recognizable by his silver-coloured fur and great crooked horns. Both were beings of mighty power, selected at birth from among thousands of ratlings and trained in the arts of arcane magic. But despite their shared membership in the ranks of the skaven priesthood there wasn't the slightest sense of camaraderie between the two sorcerers.

With calculated slowness, Krikch lowered his warpstone pipe and blew a cloud of noxious green smoke at Marsh-Lurk. His features were stone but his red eyes burned with barely-contained fury.

"Brilliant-cunning plan? Yes-yes, it was very cunning of Marsh-Lurk to sit out the battle until the foe was already routing and then to swoop in like a vulture to claim-seize all the glory," he snickered, twirling his long whiskers, "No, let the truth be squeaked-said. It was I, Krikch, who carried the day by luring the enemy leader into an ambush-trap."

Marsh-Lurk jumped up in his seat with indignation, the skavenbrew in his goblet slopping over the rim to stain his already filthy robes. How dared this mangy rodent lie so shamelessly? Yes, perhaps he had stayed his troops a little longer than was necessary, but it was only because he wasn't one to expend his soldiers' lives wastefully. He certainly hadn't been motivated by a desire to see his allies bled dry while his own army remained intact.

"Ah! You mean you fled-ran screaming with the dwarf-thing chief hot on your tail," he shot back venomously, "It was only pure luck-chance that he was flattened by an out-of-control doomwheel. Another moment-second and his axe would have cleaved your ugly-stupid head from your neck!"

Only his twitchy reflexes saved him from the bottle flung by his enraged confrere. The loud crash of glass shattering against the bare stone of the wall was followed by silence as the two mages eyed each other grimly. Their animosity wasn't anything personal, it was just the skaven way. In defeat the ratmen bickered about blame, and in victory they bickered even more viciously about glory and loot. Today they had won a great victory, and the rich harvest of slaves, weapons and food had sharpened their appetites.

Marsh-Lurk sipped from his cup silently and planned his next move. In his mind there wasn't any doubt that he should have first pick of the spoils, but that greedy old goat stubbornly clung to the idea that it was he who deserved the lion's share. He briefly considered sending his hench-rats to murder the annoying rodent in his sleep but dismissed the idea as too risky. Although his forces were much-diminished, Krikch was still protected by hundreds of warriors. There would have to be another way.

He looked at his surroundings. They were sitting in the personal chambers of the vanquished dwarf lord, deep within the conquered fortress. The place still reeked of the hated enemy but not for much longer. The skaven had sprayed the furniture and walls with their excretions to mark the place as their own, and the familiar, pungent smell of rat urine was already wafting heavily through the desecrated hallways. His sensitive nose twitched as he picked up another scent. Debauchery was in the air. The clanrats had found the dwarfs' beer reserves and they were now celebrating their victory with wild abandon.

Krikch grumbled irritably and tugged at the collar of his heavy robes. The dwarf hold was supplied with fresh air through an ingenious ventilation system but it was clearly unable to cope with the thousands of warm bodies that thronged its corridors, and the atmosphere inside the small room was growing increasingly damp and oppressive. Marsh-Lurk watched distractedly as Krikch shifted uneasily on his seat, vaguely amused by the other skaven's obvious discomfort. Suddenly a smile crept on his features; a twisted thought had just germinated in his mind.

Letting out a suffering moan, the horned skaven unfastened the front of his garment and let the folds of his robes part to reveal his scruffy chest and belly. "So hot-sticky," he muttered, eyes closed. Slowly, he spread his legs wide and his large scrotum spilled out in front of his rival, his sizable balls hanging loose in their sack. His claw toyed with the opening of his dick, adding the smell of his sex to the rich blend that emanated from his crotch.

Anger welled up in Krikch's heart as his rival's intimate scent filled the room. The gross visual and odorous display was a deliberate provocation. Not because it offended the ratman's non-existent sense of decency, but because it challenged his ego. Marsh-Lurk was using his scent to claim the place as his own. Did that arrogant vermin think that he, the mighty Krikch, would give up and let himself be awed like a lowly slave? The thought made his fur stand up on end. He was the stronger rat! Rising from his seat, he turned around, lifted his robes and raised his tail, exposing his bare ass. Then with a hiss of defiance he squirted a full load of his foul-smelling musk.

The acrid, searing stench burned Marsh-Lurk's nose, and he could barely suppress an embarrassing fit of coughing. As he cleared his throat he had to admit that Krikch might prove a tougher opponent than expected. The two skaven were about the same size but Krikch had a stronger built, with well-defined muscles under his fur. His coat was also darker, almost verging on charcoal. He overcame his rising feeling of jealousy. Krikch might be brawnier than him, but he was the smarter one, and so far his rival was reacting as expected. Raising his hand in a conciliatory gesture, he spoke with a mixture of good humour and subtle teasing.

"Don't be so defensive, most esteemed colleague. I meant no harm-offense. The day has been long-tiring and I think we both deserve some relaxation."

His hand gently fondled his sheath until the tip of his cock poked out. "Too bad we did not take-bring any breeders with us," he sighed, "But perhaps too much warpdust has left Krikch limp and cold?"

A snarl rumbled through the small room as Krikch violently overturned the table and rushed towards Marsh-Lurk. The silver-furred skaven went pale and instinctively raised his arm in a vain attempt to cast a defensive spell but Krikch was already on him. In an instant he found himself pinned against the wall by the throat, staring directly into the angry face of his rival. Marsh-Lurk jerked his head furiously and tried to bite the arm that held him, but the other skaven had him firmly in his grip. A wicked look of pleasure sparkled in Krikch's eyes as the unmistakable stink of the musk of fear dripped from between Marsh-Lurk's naked thighs. Slowly, he bared his chisel-like incisors and drew closer until his breath brushed against his prisoner's cheeks.

"Limp-impotent you squeak-say? I'll show you what real power is," he gloated.

Krikch relaxed his grip and stepped away from the gasping skaven. Without hesitation he pulled his robes over his head, flung them aside and stood before Marsh-Lurk, stark naked and unashamed, two fat, hairy orbs dangling between his legs.

"I am the mightiest-strongest of seers," he claimed proudly, cupping his balls and squeezing them until the testicles were clearly visible under the taut skin of his sack, "I have mated the best breeders and sired thousands of offspring."

Marsh-Lurk massaged his throat and smiled internally. Despite this little fright, his plan had worked perfectly. Krikch's vanity regarding his male attributes was legendary, and he would never refuse a challenge of sexual prowess.

"I will give you a chance to prove it," he said, slouching back comfortably in his cushion, "With a little game."

He clapped his hands twice. At the signal the guards outside opened the door to let in two lithe, loincloth-clad slaves carrying plates of food and drink. He reached for the platter closest to him and grabbed a small wedge of cheese which he popped in his mouth. With his other hand, he groped the servant's bottom.

"We do not have females, but these slave-meats will serve just as well. Perfect to celebrate our victory, and also to test our strength-might," he said, still chewing.

The dainty, tan-furred skavenslave darted nervous little glances at his companion as the grey seer squeezed his buttocks and ran his fingers down his thighs, but he dared not move.

"Pick-choose one," Marsh-Lurk instructed, "We will share-breed him until one of us goes limp. Whoever lasts the longest will win and receive first pick of the loot."

Krikch hesitated, caressing the goat-like beard under his chin as if trying to discern a hidden ruse behind the offer, but lust eventually won out over his caution. Licking his lips, he pointed towards the skavenslave that Marsh-Lurk was already fondling.

"A most excellent choice," the latter cackled approvingly.

With an impatient gesture, he shooed away the other skaven. A barely audible sigh of relief escaped the ratman as he bowed deeply and scurried towards the exit.

"Make sure no one bothers-disturbs us," Marsh-Lurk ordered, addressing the guards at the door, "Oh, and this slave-meat is yours to play with for the rest of the night!"

The slave gave a frightened squeak as the hungry-looking brutes swiftly grabbed him before slamming the door shut. Laughing, Marsh-Lurk turned his attention towards the remaining rat and undid his loincloth with nimble fingers.

"This one is from my personal stock, a delicious treat-morsel," he said unctuously as the flimsy garment slid from the slave's hips to his ankles.

Krikch contemplated the offered body with leering eyes and smiled lecherously. Rubbing his hands together, he drew closer and ran his nose against the trembling slave's fur, down his neck, his chest and belly and finally his naked crotch, nudging his balls with his snout. Then, without warning, he grabbed the skaven's arm, turned him around with an abrupt movement, lifted his tail with his hand and sniffed his little pucker.

"Aaaaah, reeks of fear-submission, delightful indeed," he exhaled, grinning like a hyena picking up the scent of fresh carrion.

"Only the best-best for my esteemed friend-partner," Marsh-Lurk squeaked obsequiously, "Now let us share this feast."

At a snap of his master's fingers the slave obediently knelt on all fours. Krikch immediately positioned himself in front of the slave and, grasping him by the scruff of his neck, guided him towards his crotch. As if following a well-rehearsed ritual, the skaven opened his maw without protest, ready to receive anything his owners might shove into him. Squealing with excitement, the dark-furred grey seer started stroking himself but froze just as he was getting hard. The sight of the slave's sharp fangs had suddenly conjured a terrifying vision in his mind. Suspecting treachery, he pushed the slave's head away and turned towards Marsh-Lurk.

"You take that wretch's mouth. I mount-breed his hole, understood?" he barked.

"Such a lack of trust hurts-wounds me deeply," Marsh-Lurk replied with mock sadness, "There is no trick-trap here. But I will do as you wish, as a token of goodwill."

The grey seer chuckled behind his affable smile. Of course there was a trick! He discretely rolled his tongue inside his mouth and felt for the tiny nugget of warpstone hidden deep down his cheek pouch. He always kept one or two of the greenish rocks tucked there, within easy reach. Each of the nuggets was a piece of raw, crystallized magic, enough to power an earth-shattering spell - or replenish his depleted sexual energy! Krikch's endurance might be legendary among grey seers, but he did not stand a chance against the powers of warpstone.

Only half-reassured, Krikch spread the slave's buttcheeks with his hands and buried his snout in his ass, forcing his cold, wet nose tip past the sphincter and drawing a surprised gasp from the slave. Satisfied that no hidden poison coated the skaven's insides, the grey seer withdrew his slimy nose and wiped it with a quick flick of his tongue. From between his legs rose a long, veiny cock that already twitched in anticipation. Licking his chops and drooling like a famished wolf, the horned ratman grabbed the slave's hips and pushed his turgid member to the hilt.

Despite his apparent bashfulness, the little skaven was well-trained in the art of pleasing his betters, and he took the thick truncheon without too much difficulty, emitting just the right amount of moaning and squealing to stroke the grey seer's ego. Krikch huffed and grunted like a stray dog humping a bitch as he pushed himself in and out of the smaller male with quick jabs, each thrust accompanied by a sickening squelching noise.

A flicker of jealousy rose within Marsh-Lurk's chest as he watched his rival breed the slave with bestial enthusiasm. Why was this impudent slave-meat squealing so much? Was it actually enjoying itself? Fighting a lurking sense of inadequacy, he sat with his legs spread wide, seized the slave by the ear and forced his head towards his dick and balls. Obediently, the skaven started licking his master's erection, wrapping his long tongue around the shaft and lathering it with hot saliva. Marsh-Lurk raised his head to the ceiling and let his breath hiss between his teeth as the raspy, agile member brushed against his skin and tickled his cocktip. Soon, little spurts of clear liquid were hitting the slave's face and dripping down his snout.

Krikch's thrusts accelerated, his grunts becoming more high-pitched by the second. To Marsh-Lurk's surprise he was making no effort to last longer, and soon a frantic shriek signalled his orgasm. The skavenslave gasped and stopped lavishing Marsh-Lurk's dick for an instant as his insides were painted with hot rat cum. Grunting and panting, the grey seer withdrew his cock, causing a copious load of greyish semen to gush out of the slave's hole, and plunged right back in. The salty, pheromone-laden scent went straight to Marsh-Lurk's brain. Rising to his knees, he took the slave's head in his hands, thrust his hips and fucked his mouth sideways, almost choking the submissive rat with his cock.

Both ejaculated at the same time, their simultaneous orgasms exploding in the slave's ass and mouth. Panting, Marsh-Lurk took a few seconds to catch his breath and shot a quick glance at Krikch. To his surprise, the grey seer was showing no sign of exhaustion. Pulling out his still-erect cock for the second time, he grabbed the slave's tail and lifted it high.

"Good-good, I want to see it drip," he snarled, watching his semen seep out of the rat's distended hole and run down his furry balls.

Marsh-Lurk withdrew his cum and spit-soaked member from the coughing skavenslave. "Time-time for the secret weapon," he thought. Quickly, he fished a tiny nugget out of his cheek pouch, set it between his molars and bit down hard.

The blood in his veins turned to fire and his eyes flared with green flames as a rush of magical power exploded through his entire body. His cock, which had started to go limp, stiffened and throbbed wildy with renewed energy while his balls swelled with a freshly-churned load. Overwhelmed by the urge to cum, he seized his aching member and stroked himself fast and hard, shoving his tumescent cock against the slave's face and leaving long trails of sticky precum across his snout. The sight of his rival grunting and trying to force himself into the slave's mouth spurred Krikch to renewed effort. With grim determination he pushed the small skaven to his side, lifted his leg to his shoulder and rammed home repeatedly.

The hapless slave was shaken like a rag doll, each thrust from the grey seers forcing cum out of his ass and mouth. His climax came and went unnoticed. The tip of his tail trashed frantically against the floor and his twitching cocktip shot one, then another thin spurt of watery cum which fell messily on the fur of his chest and belly. A weak little slave orgasm, unworthy of the attention of his masters. Marsh-Lurk was entirely focused on the burning sensation in his loins, and when the wave of his pleasure reached its crest he withdrew his cock brutally and came all over the slave's face, filling his eyes and nostrils with warm semen. Krikch followed a second later. He pulled out with a roar, gripped his pulsating shaft and directed it towards the slave's cock and balls, coating them with his seed.

The laboured breath of the two horned skaven mingled with the coughs and gurgles of the wretched form on the floor. The slave lay crumpled in a ball, froth dripping from his anus and mouth, his finely groomed fur now tangled and caked with fast-drying semen.

"I think that slave is used up," Krikch finally grumbled.

"Agreed-agreed," Marsh-Lurk nodded as he unceremoniously pushed the rat aside with his foot. Naked and shivering, the slave crawled towards the door, leaving a trail of sticky cum behind him. Neither of the grey seers noticed his exit. Instead, the two faced each other warily, each trying to gauge the other's strength. Marsh-Lurk's dick was still rigid but already the power of the warpstone within him was ebbing. He could feel it flowing out of him, and despite his valiant efforts his cock was deflating with each heartbeat. Krikch was no better. He was sitting on the floor with his legs spread wide, exposing his semi-erect shaft. The girthy rathood was sagging visibly, a thin trickle of cum oozing out of his tip and pooling on his hairy scrotum.

"I win-win," the dark-furred skaven hissed aggressively, "I came three times."

Marsh-Lurk's eyes shone with a malevolent mirth. He extracted another, larger, chunk of warpstone from his cheek pouch and crunched the magical rock. An overpowering rush of sexual energy surged through his weary body, radiating from his chest and setting fire to his loins. His half-flaccid cock stiffened without warning and he instinctively bucked his hips. Close to panic, he squeaked incoherently as the shock waves of pleasure turned into a spontaneous orgasm, his cock throbbing uncontrollably and shooting rope after rope of thick greyish rat milk on Krikch's chest and thighs.

"No, I win-win," Marsh-Lurk cackled gleefully as he finally gathered his wits. "Your breeding bits are soft-squishy like old-rotten meat. Mine are strong-hard like warpstone-forged steel."

Taken aback by this unexplainable surge of vitality, Krikch stood still while his rival's semen dripped lazily down his stomach and onto his sex. But soon his confusion gave way to black anger and he ground his fangs as if they had closed around a fleshy throat.

"Don't be sad-disappointed," Marsh-Lurk unwisely gloated as he stroked his insolently erect shaft, "You can still lick-suck it if you want."

The outrageous taunt was the last straw for Krikch. In less than a second the two skaven were rolling on the floor, fighting savagely in a tornado of slashing claws, biting fangs and writhing tails. There was little harm done, however, as the two grey seers grappled clumsily in a complete pandemonium of limbs and horns. One moment Marsh-Lurk felt his opponent's smelly crotch pressed against his nose, the next it was a feet that squeezed his balls or a tail that wrapped around his neck. Briefly he found himself staring into Krikch's angry face. The other skaven was hard again, and their dripping cocks ground against each other as they both wrestled to gain the upper hand, little jets of precum spurting from their swollen glans and wetting their fur. In the end, however, Krikch's superior strength and heavier weight prevailed and Marsh-Lurk found himself pinned on his back with his opponent sitting astride him.

"Strong-hard like steel you say? Not for much longer," Krikch snickered as he turned his back to him.

Marsh-Lurk wriggled panickedly as the ratman loomed closer to his groin, his breath caressing his vulnerable breeding-bits. His heart leapt in his chest when a clawed hand groped his testicles, the fingers rolling the big orbs in their sack as if their owner was trying to decide what torment to inflict on them. Crooked claws tickled his anus and his mind flashed with gruesome pictures of the thousand different tortures his foe might inflict on him. He desperately struggled to break free but to no avail, only managing to brush his erect cocktip against Krikch's. A sharp squeak escaped his lips when two of the digits were suddenly rammed into him. The fingers sank knuckles deep inside his ass but instead of ripping the vulnerable flesh they began to twirl and explore his insides, massaging and spreading his tight hole.

Marsh-Lurk stopped struggling, stunned by the unexpected sensation. No self-respecting grey seer would normally allow himself to be penetrated like a common slave, but the strangled cry of indignation died in his throat and was replaced by a low moan. His dick throbbed harder and squirted another load of clear precum, and before he could protest something wet and warm started lapping at his shaft.

Torn between lust and outrage at what was being done to him, Marsh-Lurk could only think of retaliation. Krikch's rear end was hovering above his snout, his balls dangling between his legs and his taint in full view. Gripping his butt cheeks, he plunged his tongue into the exposed pink hole. Krikch shuddered and wriggled at the intrusion but Marsh-Lurk kept working his tongue eagerly, penetrating as deep as possible despite the dirty, earthy taste that filled his mouth.

The two mages rimmed and sucked each other off for several long minutes, each one intent on making the other ejaculate first. Marsh-Lurk's cock was painfully hard and drooling precum as his rival fingered him and kissed and licked his tip, and it took a sheer effort of will to prevent his balls from exploding. Soon the pressure became too much to bear, and he pushed his tongue deeper inside the folds of Krikch's rectum in a desperate attempt to force an orgasm out of him.

When all seemed lost, his efforts were finally rewarded. Krikch shook abruptly, his ass clenched around Marsh-Lurk's tongue and an oily, musky substance seeped from his anal sacks. A sudden rush of warm wetness covered Marsh-Lurk's fur as the other male came all over his crotch and legs. In his triumph, he was caught unprepared by his own climax. His cock tensed and a geyser of hot cum soared up into the air and back down again, the seed falling on both ratmen in a messy shower.

For a while they laid tangled together, drained and exhausted, their flaccid cocks resting on their thighs and bellies, each too tired to even think of taking advantage of the other's vulnerable state.

"We'll call it even for now-now," Marsh-Lurk finally croaked.

"Yes, for now-now," Krikch whispered.

The room around them looked - and smelled - as if an entire regiment of rat-ogres had stampeded through it. From the wreckage Marsh-Lurk took a small bell which he rang wearily. Responding to the summons, two slaves cautiously crept into the room and, upon Marsh-Lurk's command, knelt next to the grey seers and started cleaning them with their tongues.

"There is enough loot-plunder for both of us," Marsh-Lurk conceded as he lifted his leg to give the slave better access to his pucker, "And your contribution to the battle, however minor, deserves some form of reward-prize."

Krikch raised an eyebrow. "I think-think you have it the wrong way around. Victory was the result of my genius plan-scheme, with some support from you. But I agree, you have earned a morsel-slice of the spoils."

"I will be generous," Marsh-Lurk grandly announced, "You may keep a tenth of the weapons and slaves, and enough food-provisions for the trip back home."

They stared at each other for a long time, the deadly silence broken only by the slurpings of the slave who was now cleaning the inside of Krikch's sheath.

"Next round of negotiations tomorrow, yes-yes?" he grinned, scratching the slave between the ears.

"Same time and place," Marsh-Lurk winked.