On Befriending Kobolds.
A mouse rescues a kobold and then sex.
When he woke, he found he couldn't recognize where he was. It wasn't just that the odd wooden streaks above him were of completely alien design and construction, it was that the very sensation of softness and warmth he found he was enveloped in was unlike anything he had experienced before. He learned he was covered by heavy fabrics, and so the first act that came to mind and bore any sense of rationality to it was to push them away. With that accomplished, he observed that he was atop a much thicker, firmer rectangle of cloth and filling.
He couldn't fathom what he was resting atop, much less the strange wooden furniture scattered about his surrounds. There was a small den with a fire in it, the sense of which he could at least piece together. But everything else, from the pictures hanging suspended from wooden walls, to the various carved surfaces, appeared completely frivolous. Some of these were also covered with cloth, for a reason that completely eluded him. The only thing he could be absolutely certain of was that he was no longer inside of a kobold warren, a thought he met with dread and suspicion.
The first thing he would need, no matter the situation, was a weapon. He surveyed his surrounds, attempting to keep the dull throb in his chest from reaching his head, where he knew from experience it would end up loud enough to drown out his thoughts. Slowly, he slid his clawed feet from atop the stuffed fabric thing, placing them down on the floor as carefully as he could. He found that his feet, as well as the rest of his greyish body, were completely bare. The scales along his left side were puffed up and slightly off-shade, indicating to him that he had been hurt, perhaps even while he lay about on what he now suspected was a torture table. He needed to escape this place and return home, to his cave and his clan, where he would find safety among his people's numbers.
But, a weapon. He started to dig through the things around him, as quietly as he could. There was nothing sharp, nothing that could be conveniently wielded, at least not out in the open. It appeared that whatever creatures lurked here created this unfathomable cell to torment a captive with useless items, forever reminding them that they could be holding something practical. An intriguing idea, but he would have much preferred to be on the observing end. He found he didn't enjoy being the captive particularly much.
There was a sound coming from beyond the nearby archway. In a hurry, he scooped up some odd thing with four small beams and a flat surface. It would be an impractical bashing device, but it was better to hold this than to hold nothing. He heard the sound again, a sort of a clunking, followed by various quieter thuds. The noise was drawing nearer to that archway, nearer to him. He was certain that it would be some horrible, twisted, scaleless monster determined to torture him into revealing the location of his clan. Maybe it would even eat him after he confessed all he knew. Maybe it wouldn't, and let him fester with the knowledge that he was a traitor to all of koboldkind.
He wouldn't let that happen. He made his way nearer to the archway, odd wooden thing at the ready. He crouched down, ready to lunge up with his powerful legs. The sound was so near now, he could practically see the hideous creature awaiting him, drooling and hissing, in his mind. He tightened his clutches on the wooden beams of his makeshift weapon. He could hear it, it was just outside the door. A rounded, white fuzz came into view, just above his eye level -
He lunged, knocking that white ball with all the force his mighty legs could muster. The white thing fell back with a very unkobold-like grunt, which provided all the confirmation he felt he needed. He hoisted up the wood thing, ready to smite down whatever evildoer had abducted him and brought him here. He found two things. The first as a searing pain in his side that robbed his arms of all their strength, causing him to stumble about in agony. The second, the instant before the pain set in, was that his assailant was a particularly small mouse. He knew the size of mice, and that while this one was an inch or two bigger than he was all the same, it was diminutive for one of its kind. Not that it mattered just now, as he mumbled just about every lizardly curse he knew.
From the corner of his eye, just around the encroaching black swell that threatened to rob him of his consciousness, he saw the mouse stand. A streak of red marred the white fur of the mouse's forehead, giving the kobold a sure reason for pride. The fuzzy creature rubbed the blood from its head and approached, one hand out toward him. The kobold snapped at the hand, but couldn't angle properly to bite it, due to that unfaltering pain burning at his side. He was defenseless, for the moment, when he found that the mouse placed a pair of surprisingly gentle hands on him and kept him from falling over. Now, the kobold paused, attempting to mull this revelation over while fighting for rational thought over that merciless shooting, burning, throbbing discomfort in his side.
The mouse led him back to the soft fabric torture table, where he fell forward and lost his battle.
**********
Mattias wasn't sure why the kobold attacked him. He didn't really mind it, though, as he expected the poor thing was just frightened. After all, it wasn't every day that a kobold was found outside of its lair. Mattias was a kind mouse, or so he was very often told, and didn't hold anything against the kobold for the bout of poor behavior.
The kobold reminded him of a certain house cat he once found crawling about outside. The dear little thing was blind and senile, and probably only found Mattias' cottage by following the smell of cooking food. Nevertheless, the cat did find his cottage, and Mattias found the ragged creature rummaging about as best it could without its vision. He took the cat in, named her Cheddar Cheese, and cared for her until she finally died of illnesses he couldn't treat away. Every time he got near to that cat, she would do anything she could to injure him with those fierce claws of hers. He suspected the mad cat couldn't understand that Mattias only wanted to help her. Or, perhaps she didn't care, and she was simply a mean-spirited animal. It made no difference to him, as he would suffer a million scratches before letting an animal suffer.
It was the same case with the kobold. Whilst normally Mattias would do anything to avoid one of the mouse-eating, vicious creatures, he found himself sitting beside one and rubbing a salve into its wounds while it slept in his bed. He found it out in the woods, unconscious and struggling to breathe. Mattias couldn't let the poor thing die like that, so now they were in his cottage, relatively secluded and possibly even safe from whatever injured the mending kobold. A little bump on the head wasn't going to convince Mattias that the creature deserved to be sent out into the cold, where it wouldn't survive one night with broken ribs.
"I suppose we shall have to think of a name for you," Mattias pondered, stroking over the kobold's scaled head just as he might pet one of his wounded animals. He resolved to ask the kobold its name when it woke. For now, he would see about sleeping for a while himself. He stood and covered the kobold up with the blankets for a second time, before scuttling out of the room.
**********
When he woke again, it was dark. That never mattered to a kobold, of course, as creatures such as he were able to see without any need for light. Mice were not so fortunate, and he knew that his captor would not be able to see far in front of his face. This meant he could escape, if only he was quiet. So he climbed down from the torture table again, ever cautious not to make so much as a peep of noise, for fear of alerting whatever sentries might be posted around him. He wasted no time in finding a weapon, as he knew whatever he found would likely be useless, and instead crept for the archway.
Beyond it, he saw the prison was actually much smaller. It was a tiny chamber, compared to the rather small torture pit he had been placed in. There was another bit of furniture, this one round and in the center of the chamber. Along the walls, more wooden surfaces presented themselves, these ones with facilities to store other prisoners or interrogation equipment built-in. Truly, this mouse was a wicked creature, to have purposed a building so specifically to tormenting the innocent kobolds and koboldettes he captured.
From this chamber, the building broke off in two directions, not counting the one he had come from. One led down a narrow hallway, the other led to a room where he noted the mouse slumbering atop one of the wooden sitting things in the room he was confined to. Well, now! He knew immediately that he couldn't let the mouse live, as surely it would just pursue him to bring him back here. As much as it might have disgusted him, killing this creature was the only real course of action available to him. He would need to find a weapon, again. This time something better than the wooden thing.
Digging quietly through the various compartments and storage devices built into the wooden surfaces, he found precisely what he needed. And precisely what he expected, considering the horrible torture prison nature of this place. A knife. It wasn't particularly sharp, but that was probably due to cutting tough kobold scales all the time, so it was a poetic sort of justice he would be delivering unto the mouse.
With a weapon and thus a sense of confidence, the kobold crept his way into the room where the mouse sat. He held the knife so tightly that his claws met with the scales of his palm, around the knife's handle. He crept closer, closer, until the mouse was almost in arm's reach. He was wary enough to notice that this room was filled with potted plants, though all of the corners were filled and nothing in them was moving, so he surmised that he and the mouse were completely alone. The floor here was covered with yet another stretch of fabric, making the kobold's footfalls even quieter. He was near enough now to see the mouth's eyes were peacefully shut, his mouth slightly agape.
The kobold circled to stand in front of the mouse. He didn't want to do this, not really. But he knew that the mouse would do worse to him if given half a chance. If he let the mouse live, chances are it would hunt down his clan and kill everybody. He couldn't allow that to happen, no. Then he'd be alone, and that would be the worst thing that could ever possibly befall a kobold. He hefted up the knife and drew a sharp breath through his pinprick teeth.
It was pure chance that, just as the kobold was about to end his life, Mattias woke up. A moment later and his eyes wouldn't have fluttered open and forced focus out of the haze, wouldn't have settled on the sight of his patient standing awake and alive before him. He wouldn't have smiled, and his smile wouldn't have ended up a look of shock and horror as he noticed the knife his patient was wielding. Fortunately, purely by happenstance, all of that did occur. The fright the kobold saw in the mouse made him feel a sudden rush of power, and that feeling was enough motivation for him to keep the mouse alive, despite his better judgment.
He heard the mouse utter something he couldn't comprehend. He yapped back, in his own people's language. "I have claimed you as a prisoner of Thrixifax!"
"A prisoner? Oh, heavens," the mouse replied, looking quite mortified, but evidently not enough so to have forgotten whatever it was he knew of the kobold dialect. Thrixifax, the kobold, thought nothing of the mouse's bilingual abilities. As far as he was concerned, every creature ought to recognize the kobold language as the most superior. This mouse was only slightly more intelligent than other scaleless creatures in having come to terms with this universal truth.
Thrixifax thought over what to do with his new captive. Dispatching of the mouse felt too cruel, and he enjoyed what he felt when he saw the white fuzzball's scared blue eyes. He would need to restrain the mouse somehow. "Where is something I can tie you with?" The kobold demanded, feeling he had come to a rather clever resolution. The mouse replied without hesitation, clearly afraid to risk upsetting him, and even offered no resistance when Thrixifax fastened his wrists together with the suggested thick twine.
************
Mattias was sure he just needed some time to explain everything to the kobold. Thrixifax was frightened, that was all. He would do nothing to upset the kobold further, and that meant going along with whatever requests the kobold made of him. He allowed the kobold to lead him to the bedroom, and only let out the smallest startled shriek when he was shoved down onto the bed. He didn't roll onto his back, though he wanted to in order to see his captor, instead lying uncomfortably with his weight on his shoulder, as he landed.
"As the property of Thrixifax, you will do what I say," the kobold asserted, to which Mattias readily agreed. The kobold didn't sound as though he was expecting compliance. There were a few moments of quiet that seemed to stretch on and on, as Mattias found the desire to roll off of his shoulder becoming greater. To his credit, he didn't budge, not until the kobold finally said "okay, now sleep," and left the room.
************
Thrixifax surveyed the building thoroughly. He found nothing that would indicate that he was in any peril of the mouse's friends arriving. The prison, he learned, was out in the middle of the woods, with no discernible paths leading in any direction. He couldn't understand the sadistic nuances of a mouse's mind, and so why the facility was built in such a remote location eluded him. He suspected so nobody could hear the petrified cries of suffering kobolds, because that simply made the most rational sense to Thrixifax.
Throughout the night, he had found the corner he deemed to be the safest in the entire building. That was where he slept, knife clutched tight to his chest, until morning came around. When he discovered he had survived the night, he decided the most rational course of action was to investigate whether his captive had escaped or not. He suspected the mouse had, because mice were deceptive, cunning creatures fueled by malicious intent as much as they were the disgusting vegetables they tended to eat.
The mouse had moved, but not off of the torture table. He was lying on his stomach now, with his bound hands sticking up from the small of his back. He had pulled the thick cloth restrains up over his legs in the night, which Thrixifax couldn't fathom. Was this a display of submission, or something far more sinister? As he approached the slumbering mouse, he remembered how the thing had helped him stand when letting him fall would have caused a considerable amount of pain. Maybe, he thought, this possible display of submission has earned it some discussion. Thrixifax reached out with a claw and prodded the mouse's shoulder until he woke.
"What is your name?" Thrixifax inquired, doing his best to seem authoritative. He thought it possible that he may have just sounded curious, though.
"Mattias. It's nice to meet you, Thrixifax, though the circumstances are unconventional." Was the mouse making fun of him? The words were mocking, but the way the mouse said them without some sort of chiding tone, with a smile that even Thrixifax has to concede appeared genuine... No, the mouse wasn't making fun of him. It mustn't have minded being tied up on a torture slab.
Thrixifax wouldn't let himself be distracted. "Why did you bring me here?"
"I found you unconscious and hurt, so I brought you here to mend you back to health. Is your side better?"
He hadn't thought of that. He stretched to a side, hefting his arm up as high as he could reach. There wasn't any pain. When he looked down to his side, the scales were no longer swollen, and the bruising had faded away to leave him with his even greyish coat. Why would the mouse do anything to cure an ailment of his, if he was really some malicious monster? Even if he was attempting to play Thrixifax for a fool, that wouldn't make any sense. "Why did you make it better?"
The mouse appeared confused at his question. He rolled to the side, to better look at Thrixifax. His voice sounded honest even as Thrixifax attempted to tell himself it wasn't. "Because you were hurt, of course."
Against his better judgment, Thrixifax decided he would let the mouse roam free about the building. It didn't appear to be anything more than a dwelling. It wouldn't do to keep what could be a source of medicine bound. And besides, if Mattias lived here, the mouse would know where and how to acquire food, which was becoming an increasing concern of the kobold's. When the kobold moved nearer, the mouse squealed, though he shut up when his bonds were cut. Thrixifax had to admit, he enjoyed the sound of the squeal, despite himself.
***********
Thrixifax had remained with Mattias for another day, during which he learned a variety of things. He learned Mattias had come out to the woods to be nearer to the plants and animals he enjoyed nurturing. He learned that Mattias was kindly, compassionate and sickly-sweet, which Thrixifax enjoyed being directed at him but could not reconcile as an appropriate sort of behavior. And he learned that Mattias wouldn't mind if he stayed or left as he pleased, which made him much more comfortable in the mouse's home.
They had been apart for some time, Mattias having left Thrixifax to look over the various maps of the region. It was tiresome work, attempting to decipher his way home from where the cottage was marked on the maps. The landmarks appeared differently to his eyes than they did on a crude stretch of parchment. The kobold knew he wouldn't be able to do this without help, and decided he would have to ask Mattias, despite not quite trusting the mouse's advise yet. So he stood and moved to the bedroom in search of the suddenly rather elusive mouse.
Mattias' cottage didn't have doors. There was no warning for Thrixifax as he walked into the mouse's bedroom, finding him standing with his back turned to the archway connecting the rooms, unadorned by any of the cloths he used to cover himself. In fact, he was looking at a variety of the cloths, all of which were laid out on what Thrixifax had learned was not, in fact, a torture slab. The kobold was perplexed and intrigued by what he saw of the nude Mattias, who's body was more rounded and delicate than the kobold had ever seen of anybody before. The white shade of the mouse's body appeared, though Thrixifax could not fathom for the life of him why, suddenly rather alluring. Mattias was his property, by declaration...
Thrixifax made his way up behind the mouse, moving quietly again, as he had proven apt at doing. He overheard Mattias mumbling in his vulgar mousan language, not understanding and not caring whatever the unsuspecting mouse was saying. Slowly, the kobold drew nearer to the mouse's back. When he was close enough, Thrixifax reached out and around the unaware Mattias, suddenly seizing the mouse's waist and drawing their bodies flush together. Mattias squealed, but didn't struggle, instead becoming rigid with fright. Thrixifax hissed with delight at the mouse's startled reaction, pressing the slit at his crotch firm against Mattias' backside.
"What are you doing?" The mouse stammered, as he felt the scaled hands of the kobold stroke their way through his fur and up to his chest, where their claws pressed into his skin. Thrixifax placed enough strength against his claws to scratch Mattias, as he dragged them back down to his hips, but not enough to really hurt the mouse. Mattias found himself cooing along with the sensation, pressing back against the kobold as though he was trying to bring their bodies closer. The kobold rested his maw atop Mattias' shoulder, bringing it awfully close to his round ear, which appeared so tender to Thrixifax.
"You are property of Thrixifax, and must do as I say." The mouse shivered. Thrixifax started to grind his hips against the mouse's exposed backside, scratching the fuzzy chest as he pleased. Mattias' hands ended up on Thrixifax's hips, though the mouse made no attempt to stop the kobold. Not even as the kobold's penis started to emerge from within the slit, wet and rubbing between the cheeks of Mattias' bottom with every rotation of the kobold's eager hips.
"
"I thought you were female," the mouse remarked, feeling the wet, firm member growing behind him. Thrixifax growled in reply, apparently offended. He pushed the mouse forward against the bed, bending Mattias over atop his clothing. The mouse squeaked with surprise yet again, along with a hasty "I'm sorry!" Behind him, the kobold continued to stroke his member between the cheeks of Mattias' bum, kneading them between his clawed hands. The claws were digging in just slightly, which Mattias found he enjoyed, as he pressed himself back against the kobold eagerly.
Mattias wasn't unfamiliar with sex, but he never suspected Thrixifax would even want this from him. Now, it was so sudden and forceful that he wasn't sure what to do. He felt the kobold's damp member growing bigger and bigger against his bottom, and decided that whatever he was going to do, it certainly wasn't going to be to resist. The excited mouse wrapped his slender tail around Thrixifax's waist, moaning and pleading for penetration in his own dialect, too aroused now to be bothered by the consequences. He felt the kobold pull away, though his hands remained firm on his bottom, spreading the cheeks to admire the pink pucker between them. Then, Mattias felt the very tip of Thrixifax's member against his tight opening.
The kobold hissed as he pushed forward and inward, the mouse beneath him whimpering and muttering incomprehensible phrases in that unnatural language of his. As he burrowed his way inside of the mouse, Thrixifax felt strong. He was conquering his mouse, tender inch by inch, feeling the mouse's insides clamp down around his invading member. He took his time, penetrating a little deeper with each thrust, drawing louder reactions from his conquest every time he made a move. When Thrixifax had driven his dick all the way into Mattias, and his scaled hips met with the furred backside, the mouse mumbled his name. Thrixifax had asserted his dominance, and now he would make proper use of his willing mouse.
His member well and truly slick from both his slit and the precum he'd built up while stroking his way in, Thrixifax wasted no time in setting a wild pace. His hips pounded against the mouse as his cock churned its way through the tight passage. Mattias could only cry out, bundling up the clothes and blankets underneath him in his arms and clinging on. The mouse's tail squeezed around Thrixifax's waist, bringing the kobold an odd sense of intimacy as he had his way with the mouse. The kobold could understand some of what Mattias was saying, and they were pleas for the kobold to move harder and deeper than he already was.
Thrixifax decided to abide Mattias' request, throwing himself against the mouse's ass mercilessly. A few moments more and he was finished, roaring fiercely at the ceiling as he filled Mattias with his koboldly cum. During the kobold's most forceful thrusts, Mattias was reduced to gasping and mewling, pressing himself back against the kobold instinctively. When Thrixifax was done, he stepped away, dripping over the wooden floor between them.
Mattias turned to sit on the bed, apathetic about whatever mess he might make. He was panting, and saw that Thrixifax was too. But where the kobold's member was already receding back into its mysterious slit home, Mattias' was firm and erect, standing proudly against his abdomen. The kobold's eyes were fixed on it in a heartbeat, and he moved nearer again to examine it. Thrixifax found the small sack beneath Mattias' mousey cock as intriguing as the member itself, as his own reproductives were inside of his body. It took him only half a moment to start running his forked tongue all over Mattias' balls in adventuresome curiosity.
The mouse moaned, setting his hands behind him to keep him upright. He did his best not to squirm under the diligent ministrations of the kobold, who had evidently resolved to lick over every possible spot on the mouse's genitals. When a bit of precum escaped the tip of Mattias' member, the kobold fixed onto it, licking over the slit there mercilessly. "Oh, Thrixifax!" The kobold drew the mouse's cock into his mouth, submerging it in wet warmth. He ran his tongue over every inch of it, at times even coiling the tongue around it. Mattias was left writhing, probing his cock up into Thrixifax's mouth.
"I'm almost -- I'm going to --" The kobold drew off of the mouse's member, setting a hand firm upon it and stroking it rapidly. He angled the member up at its owner. With an impassioned cry of Thrixifax's name, Mattias came all over his own chest, with perhaps more of the stuff than he'd ever been able to produce before. Thrixifax contently set to lapping it off of Mattias without missing a beat.
While Mattias attempted to explain how wonderful and unexpected the experience all was, something Thrixifax had no interest in listening to, the kobold placed a tender lick on the mouse's nose.
***********
Mattias still lives in his isolated, cosy little cottage. He tends the injured animals he finds scattered about in his woodland walks, always without complaint and from the goodness of his mousey heart. Except now, he occasionally has to keep the wounded birds from his visiting kobold, who stops by with random demands for lovemaking every other week.