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“It was a longer journey than expected."

The man stood barefoot atop the rich fur of plundered pelts, curling his toes into the fibres and revelling in the softness of it. It felt like forever since he'd last had his boots off, and the opportunity to bathe was a welcome one as well. He'd stripped down to his armoured pants, and now strode the interior of the large canvas tent confidently, making a start on a story he'd quite spontaneously announced the telling of, “…I had no map to guide me, and the path was unreliable, cut through with animal tracks and washed away entirely in places by the rain. Rather than travel directly, the safest method was to move from village to village, hamlet to hamlet, chaining together little glimpses of civilisation all the way. Every small settlement was another opportunity to gather information, coin, and supplies, with no shortage of work for a Beastmaster accompanied by such powerful creatures as a Deathclaw and Wolfman."

He appeared ponderous for a moment, considerate before elaborating, “Work, yes. But nothing too impressive or noteworthy. I was a doorman and a caravan guard. I picked rare herbs in a waterfall grotto – after my Pets had made a meal of the bear lairing there. I even cleared a tavern cellar of giant rats. That one I think the World God may have had a hand in, as it's such a remarkable cliché to stumble into." Raphael chuckled to himself, equal parts amused and annoyed.

“It was late summer, and I'm told the North is quite scarce in Adventurers at this time of year. The monsters worth hunting arrive and leave with the snow, and so too do the monster hunters, which leaves very few hands to deal with something as troublesome as an errant Deathclaw or roaming Wolfman pack. I wondered honestly how Adventurers could do battle with such creatures at all, and was treated to an explanation of Magic and Skills by the Apothecary I gathered those herbs for."

“Skills come from the Sun God, Magic from the Moon God, and the World God doesn't give out anything anymore, as far as common knowledge goes. Apex Abilities like my [Tame] have faded into the realms of myths and legends, and are attributed to ancient heroes of eras long past." An announcement he assumed would go over the head of his captive audience, though considering their predicament, they were unlikely to tell anyone.

“Naturally, I was curious. I can happily write off my own power as an unreasonable ability granted by a divine being, but were the other two so arbitrary in potency? No, it seems that the Sun and Moon Gods actually have some sense when it comes to balance. Skills cost lifeforce to use, weakening the user with each activation but granting superhuman martial capabilities. And Magic, that was the interesting one. Though perhaps a little convoluted."

“While Skills can be learned with training, you either have Magic or you don't. Upon the body of the Mage is a Rune which corresponds to their power and their Sin. The Apothecary used the example of Conjuration, spells to summon and create. This is attributed to Sloth, and the more that you use the power, the more slothful you become; until you are entirely overwhelmed with indolence. Indulging the Sin restores your sense of self, paying a toll to the evil Moon God." He tugged at the cord in his hand, jostling his captive, “But you know that well already, don't you?"

“Honestly, both seemed more trouble than they were worth, one chipping away at your body and the other at your mind. While overdoing it with Skills can lead you to expend so much of your lifeforce that you simply drop dead, it seems that overuse of Magic without the indulgence of Sin is even worse: You become a Fiend. An entity consumed by their Sin. Very powerful. Very evil. I hoped very much not to ever run into one."

He took a breath and relaxed, the tension draining from him as he dispensed his tale. Raphael enjoyed this, strutting back and forth within the confines of his tent, a place warm, well lit, and stocked with supplies that ensured his comfort. There was enough space here for him to have room for his pacing without disturbing the sleeping Deathclaw and Wolfman, though keeping hold of the rope attached to his thoroughly bound captive did limit his range somewhat.

His story continued, “Anyway. It took more than a month for me to join the Highroad, and another fortnight to follow it South so far as the Skaven infested mountain pass I'd been warned so much about. Plenty of time to become accustomed to life with my Pets, with all of the pleasures and problems that came with. Alp turned out to be a passable conversationalist, though his knowledge of the world is limited to the customs and culture of his tribal community. He sees everything through the lens of his pack dynamic, and despite him having a good grasp of the human tongue, it can be a little difficult to find common ground."

“I think I might have overdone it with him, really. More often than not I wake up to the feeling of his tongue in my crotch. The Bitch won't start his day without a load in his muzzle or under his tail. I hardly dislike him, and I don't mind fulfilling his needs either. In fact, I think I enjoy it as much as he does. That's maybe the problem. I'm a little worried I'm becoming carried away with the power dynamic. It alarms me how much pleasure I find in his ruin. You know, he came once without even touching himself just from sucking me off? The rougher I am with him, the more I enforce his position as my Bitch, the happier he seems to be." He gave a slow sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, as if hoping that some unseen power would absolve him.

“Alp demands sex to indulge his instinct for submission, and every time I fuck an orgasm out of him, he becomes more docile. Kara views me as her mate and propositions me just as often as the Wolfman does. I swore to myself in a grand declaration that while I can compel my Pets to follow my commands with [Tame], I don't want to hold the chains of creatures that hate and fear me. I'll earn the loyalty and affection of my Pets by my own merit, but I didn't imagine that tending to their wants and needs would be quite so carnal. I've become a regular teratophile. Every bit the degenerate that the World God was hoping for."

With another sigh and the raised arms of surrender, he relaxed and resumed his pacing, “Well, it made the journey enjoyable. Sleeping between the two of them, I've no need for a bedroll, and there's a unique comfort to cuddling between fur and scale. They keep me safe on the road, and give me credibility as a Beastmaster. It's because of them that I'm able to make a living and survive in this nonsense world. If it keeps them happy in return, we can have all the sex they want. Hell, it's another positive, really. And keeping us supplied and in work has kept me motivated and driven, chasing coin to buy the equipment we need to make our travels more comfortable."

His eyes set upon the captive rodent, narrowing with enmity, “Which is why I'm so pissed off that you Skaven destroyed our campsite."

A sigh was enough to dispel the weight of his displeasure, and he spoke again, “When I gathered information on the ratfolk, I found that knowledge on your race is quite scarce outside of broad characterisations. There are a hundred or more tribes on and in the mountain range dividing the alpine lowlands from the central plains, and they're constantly at war with each other, which we're to be thankful for as a united nation of Skaven would be the ruin of the region. You pass through their lands either in a large and heavily defended caravan, or in a small group with stealth and haste."

“You're opportunists, ever hungry for any advantage. Excellent at scheming. Chaotic, impulsive, but clever and manipulative." Raphael gave a mighty huff, “Despite these warnings, I underestimated you gravely. I have with me a Deathclaw impervious to your stones and arrows, and a Wolfman that can regenerate from all wounds but those caused by silver – the chance you would have such a weapon was not high. Power and speed, armour and healing. I thought we would be seen as a fight not worth picking, if we were seen at all."

“On the second night, some of our supplies went missing. I thought that making sure that Alp and Kara were prominently visible would deter any interactions, and that was a mistake. The Skaven knew to disguise their scent because there was a Wolfman, and when I searched for their tracks I found that they retreated through a terrain of scree and sheer cliff that a Deathclaw couldn't possibly traverse. Showing my hand had backfired completely."

“On the third night, arrows came from the dark. Useless against Kara's scales and Alp's regeneration, but the intent wasn't to kill or even to wound. We were drawn into pursuit and returned to find that much of what remained of our gear was gone."

“The fifth night was fire. I placed our campsite in the most defensible position I could conceive, but to no avail. In fact, I think now that we were herded to that hollow." He gave the slightest tut, mostly annoyed at himself, “I'm a trained soldier, and I took a great many countermeasures every time. Despite that, I was no match for the Skaven. Thievery, arrows, and fire. Knowledge of the terrain. And experience in skirmishing against travellers exactly like me. You outplayed me at every turn."

“When the final trap sprung, I thought I was done for. Kara has shielded me from your arrows in the past, but this was a perfect encirclement. Too many targets to [Tame]. A threat of an omnidirectional attack. So, I did the only thing I could: I surrendered and was led back to your village." His free hand now came to be placed at the back of his neck, but he soon found his rhythm again.

With a bounce in his voice inspired by curiosity, “The Rot-Tail Tribe. Thematic naming, but thankfully inaccurate. When I first called to mind an image of Skaven, I thought of some enormous disease-ridden rodent-people with festering sores and filth-coated bodies. I was quite surprised to see what looked more like a typical fantasy barbarian style tribal settlement, with plenty of leather and bone, scantily clad and well-armed warriors, and an almost archetypal hillfolk aesthetic to the place. I'd even describe a portion of your people as 'adorable', though I imagine I'd be shanked for saying so." Again, he laughed, though what he said was probably true.

“I was thrown at the feet of your Chieftain, a ratman comparable in size to Alp. I didn't think that your kin could become so large since all of the warriors I'd seen so far only up to my navel in height. He had quite the ultimatum. He recognised that the Deathclaw and Wolfman are subservient to me, so I would be necessary to control them. I was a prisoner of the Rot-Tail Tribe, and would live in this village from now on as its defender. He was willing to incentivise me as well. Rather than spend my time in chains, I would be afforded a canvas tent large enough for myself and my Pets, our basic needs would be met, and so long as I was cooperative, I would be afforded respect. The nature of my ability made me more valuable as a willing ally, after all."

He nodded in acknowledgement of the grand old rat, “While the Skaven have been described to me as a chaotic race, your Chieftain seems to be quite wise. He orchestrated the attacks against me, and ensured that I be taken alive. Then constructed an offer which I could not refuse, and sweetened the deal as well. Of course, I'll be hunted and killed if I try to escape, but I understand that the best way out of here for me is to negotiate with him again when I have something to offer for my freedom that is more valuable than my presence."

And he rounded back on his charge, “Which is why I'm so confused as to why you attacked me."

“Whatever soporific you slipped into their food has knocked out Kara and Alp pretty effectively. Then you appear out of the shadows waving your hands around and chanting at me. I thought if I brandished the whip it might be enough to scare you, I don't even know how to use it, but… Whip of Binding." He looked almost apologetic, at last focusing on its target in full. A white skaven female clad in torn drapes of cloth, entirely bound up by the length of his whip. It dragged her arms behind her back, pulled her into a kneeling posture, and even went so far as to bridle her short muzzle. Of course, it was deeply erotic looking, “That damned World God. I should have known it would work like this. What were you doing? Just to be sure - was that really magic?"

A flick of his wrist recalled the whip into a neat coil, but he kept a hold of it, the weapon a constant threat. A few moments of silence passed, “No answer? Should I put my questions to the Chieftain instead?" He watched carefully, but she gave no indication of her mind, “I assume you didn't come under his direction. We had an accord, after all. If he wanted my life or anything else from me then he would have taken it while I was at his mercy."

His tone turned accusatory, “I hear that Mages are not suffered to live in most tribal settlements. Indulge your Sin and you impact the community negatively. Fail to indulge it and you become a monster. Does he know what you are? Does anyone?" Still no response. So, he pressed on, “Perhaps I should strip you to your fur and march you through the village to his tent? Make sure that everyone sees your mark. Wherever it is."

Even with the whip recalled, the Skaven remained on her knees, staring at him near unblinking, listening to his tale. It was earie, like she was staring through him, reading and evaluating him. But his threat got a reaction. Her nose twitched, her cheeks moving as she melded Queekish with the common tongue to speak in a quick rebuttal of conjoined words, “No-don't." It sounded more like an order than the begging he had expected.

There was a defiance here, but not like with the Wolfman. She may be his prisoner, but it was hard to be at ease under that piercing look. There was a smugness to it, a superiority. And it had grown all the more potent through the course of his story. Raphael sighed, and dropped into a cross-legged position. She remained unflappable, but he was determined to keep up his momentum, “…Okay. I've already done this once before with Alp. I don't want to drag information out of you with [Tame] like I'm pulling teeth. So, how about this: You've acted against your Chieftain. You failed in… whatever this was supposed to be. Take a seat and negotiate with me. I know the Skaven in this tribe are eloquent enough. Perhaps we can find a way to be useful to each other."

It was an extended hand. This attempt had given him some leverage over her, and Raphael had yet to determine how best to make use of it. The quiet was rather long, her bloody crimson gaze never faltering, ever fixed. And then, she sat down, imitating his position, “Why tell-say long story?"

Raphael shrugged his shoulders, “It helps me calm down. Puts things into perspective for me. Recalling everything that led to this point. I suppose for you, I wanted you to understand where I was coming from. What I know of magic, what I can do, how I feel about the Skaven. Though, it might have seemed to be a bit of a non-sequitur for me to ramble on after I captured you."

Another quiet period of assessment passed, “Man-thing strange." Her evaluation of him had granted her that much insight at least. And then after a slow breath of her own, she came out with something surprisingly frank, “I tried to charm-control you so that you could help me escape-flee the tribe."

Raphael was quick to pick holes, deeply suspicious of that unyielding countenance, “Why do you need me for that? If anything, I would assume that escaping with me would be harder than just vanishing into the night alone."

Now she looked at him as if he was an idiot, and what she had to say was the most obvious thing in the world, “Protect-Shield. Skaven killed on sight by man-things. No point in running away if I can't survive-thrive in the outside world. Beastmaster is stupid-dumb."

He scoffed, slightly taken back but quick to mock her in turn, “You're at the mercy of that stupid-dumb Beastmaster…" Though she didn't seem to care, “So you'd Charm me, pass yourself off as one of my Pets, and live a new life in civilised lands?" She nodded, “Why go through the trouble? Couldn't you use your magic to take control of the Rot-Tail Tribe?"

Her head shook slowly, and again she made it obvious that she regarded him as a fool, “Side effects of my magic clear-obvious. Enchantment spells are Lust-Horny. Also, tribe is close-tight. Would notice change in behaviour-actions if I used it on the Chieftain. Skaven are smart-sharp. Not like stupid-dumb Beastmaster. Would find-catch me."

Of course she had the Enchantment mark, a power counterbalanced by Lust. He closed his eyes and cursed the World God, already with an idea of how this was going to play out, “So, they'd notice a change in the disposition of your target, suspect Enchantment magic, and trace it to the person that can't suppress their Lust. Alright, I understand why you would target a Traveller like me, then."

The Skaven nodded like it was the most obvious thing within imagination, “Ideal mark-target. Nobody knows man-thing's personality. Nobody notice-see any change. Can even sex-fuck to deal with the side effects. Perfect slave-pawn."

Raphael swallowed, doing his best to ignore part of that reply. It felt like doing so would be to play into the hands of that smug old bastard World God. But she seemed to notice that reaction and smirked in response as he pressed on, “Why do you want to flee in the first place? Nothing compels you to use your magic. You've done just fine hiding it up until now."

“Female Skaven become Breeders when they are adult-big. Today-now is my time. Ritual in some hours when it is dusk-dark. I would not be able to conceal-hide my mark anymore. After charm-control I would have you bow to the Chieftain. Tell him you want-need me. Pay him any treasure-price. Say you desire me as your rat-wife."

After a few incredulous seconds, he turned thoughtful, considering her plan, “I suppose with the right framing he'd see it as me accepting my circumstances and attempting to make the best of them. It wouldn't be unreasonable to give up one female to cement our arrangement." And then his suspicion coalesced into another accusation, “You're being very open about this."

She imitated his shrug, the human expression of non-committal responses, “It's in my best interests to have you believe-trust me. I have to sell-advertise myself. Beg-Plead for you not to tell the Chieftain."

Raphael grumbled, determined to regain the initiative, “You don't want me to tell the Chieftain that you drugged my Pets and used magic to try and control me. And I assume that you told me your circumstances to try and appeal to my good nature. You're going to be killed if I refuse you. Is that about right? Did you think that I would feel sorry for you or something? Think of you as a damsel in distress that needs rescuing?" She beamed at him and it appeared every inch a taunt, because she thought exactly that and was right, “Your Enchantment may have failed, but you think you can convince me to do everything you wanted of me anyway."

“Yes-right." She nodded, making no effort to hide it.

The sheer audacity was rather impressive, and equally infuriating. She'd very much got the measure of him – and it was his own fault for dispensing his story in the hopes that it would calm his nerves. But, there was a very important part of her intentions that was yet to be revealed, “What's your offer? Did you plan as far as us getting away?"

“I have plan-scheme. But not until the snow-cold time."

Raphael waited for more, but nothing came. Of course it wouldn't – her plan was the primary leverage she had over him, the only thing she could sell. There was hope that she could help him escape his predicament and honestly it left him a little relieved. This was progress, something he could use, though he would lose a lot of time, “That's months. You want to pretend to be my Pet for months?"

“My question-ask first: Your [Tame] lets you give order-commands to Pets, yes? Why not control-rule me?" Her tone now was accusatory, but Raphael did not balk.

“Instinct, I suppose." Her head tilted, “The Chieftain came to a reasonable accord with me, I thought you might as well, so I reached for the whip over [Tame]. Granted, I didn't quite think it would truss you up like that – I just meant to threaten you. Ultimately, you Skaven are too smart. If I used [Tame], you would think of a way around it, giving me half-truths and making this difficult for me. It didn't feel like it would be the right way to deal with you."

She was quiet for a long time, considering his answer. The Skaven was thinking, strategizing more deeply than he was able to, and then said something wholly unexpected, “…I'll be a Pet-Slave for real. I need other-more things from you, too."

“What? You want to become a Pet willingly?" His suspicions reached their peak, “More? You mean what you said about life in civilised lands?"

Her arms crossed, “Good-Best deal. Follow my Plan-Scheme. Then when we are in man-thing lands, we have contract-arrangement. I follow order-commands. You said you want to earn Pet affection-trust. So, you still do all of the things that I want-need. Beastmaster is stupid-dumb. Surprised able to pull on boots without quick-smart instructions from Skaven."

Raphael scowled, “You're being pretty open about your intentions to manipulate me. You're too tricky. I'd have to be every inch the idiot you accuse me of being to make you my Pet."

She looked victorious, “Even if you compel-order me to tell you my plan with [Tame], stupid-dumb Beastmaster can't do it without me. If you want to ever leave the tribe-village alive, you need me. And I need you to survive-thrive." Her expression sharpened slightly, “Good-best deal. You not like-want?"

“You've made it pretty clear that I don't have much of a choice in this." He glowered, having been placed quite completely on the back foot, “You're right. You're my best shot at escaping."

“Chieftain respect is false-fake. All Skaven know man-things are inferior-lesser. Stupid-Dumb Beastmaster bought too easily. Comfy-Nice tent, and not thinking of escape, only how to be most useful. He won't let you seek-find something you can barter with him with. Whole tribe laugh at stupid-dumb Beastmaster."

Raphael's nose twitched, and he worked to suppress the red in his cheeks. Since arriving in this world he'd been gifted with a string of successes, but the Skaven had proven insurmountable. Their culture and technology may be simple, but the ratfolk were far smarter than he had given them credit for, and he was entirely outplayed. He'd underestimated them, misunderstood them, overestimated his own capabilities and the power of his Pets. This defeat was the natural outcome.

So, he took a breath, and he accepted his loss. This time. But never again.

“Fine. I'll make you my Pet." Raphael steeled his resolve, “But don't think that this is over. I'll be your Master and I'll work you hard. Every one of these indulgencies you're hoping to wring out of me, I'll have you pay for ten times over. You Skaven have taught me a valuable lesson. I'm not going to forget it."

She only scoffed, “Maybe stupid-dumb Beastmaster learn to be less stupid-dumb. Use power-skill now. I'm ready-sure."

There was a slight vindictiveness in the motion of his arm as he activated his Apex Skill. A gesture wasn't strictly necessary, but it felt appropriate to incorporate something into the moment, “[Tame]." He considered her carefully as it took hold, “You're a lot smarter than Alp. Can you tell me in detail how you have changed?"

She took a slow breath, and then surveyed herself as if expecting a major change only to find nothing. Then, after a brief period of introspection, “I don't feel any different-changed in myself. But how I think-feel about you has been altered." The Skaven considers things for a moment more, “Your presence feels safe-soothing. If I try to imagine bite-clawing you, the thought just stops. Is this really-truly all a Beastmaster is? It's weaker-lesser than my Enchantment Magic."

Useful information, put a lot more eloquently than Alp had. He smirked, “[Stand] up." And she looked quite surprised when she was forced to obey, her body moving on its own, “[Jump] up and down." And her expression twisted into annoyance as she began to hop on the spot. He grinned smugly, letting her bounce several times before finally releasing her, “Okay, you can sit again. How about that?"

The Skaven dropped back down looking rather annoyed and folding her arms across her chest, but she still answered, “My body just stood-rose on its own as soon as I understood what you wanted." She scratched her head, “I'm relieved-happy. I thought this would be bad-worse."

Raphael softened slightly. He was relieved, too. Despite using [Tame] for a while, he still didn't understand everything about the ability, and Alp's descriptions of the feeling of being under its compulsion were coloured heavily by his racial instincts. Knowing that it really was as simple as a compelled subservience took quite a load off his mind. It meant that everything outside of his orders really was genuine. Though, he worked to harden his expression when he realised that the Skaven was reading him again. He started to think that she could see the very thoughts in his head.

“I suppose I'll now have to go and bow to the Chieftain to ask if I can have you as my rat-wife." He sighed, doing his best to make out that the action was terrifically burdensome, “I'm going to be counting on you from here on out."

“As your Pet-Slave, there is one thing that I need to ask stupid-dumb Master for, first." She didn't let up for a second, raising a finger to stop him, “You said you take care of the want-needs of your Pets. I used Enchantment Magic-Power. Side effect is to be Lust-Horny. Becomes stronger-harder the longer it's not dealt with." She grinned as she delivered her powerplay, “Why would I take care of it by my self when I have stupid-dumb Master? I want sex-fuck."

Raphael froze. His eyes narrowed and his brain worked, reading into this sudden seduction, “You're trapping me again, aren't you? If I lay my hands on you and then fail to convince the Chieftain to gift you to me, I don't think I'll survive." The Skaven looked rather pleased that he'd actually figured that much out, “Is it really a trap when I'd quite like that?"

She looked a little taken back, expecting him to be more argumentative about it, and Raphael continued, “If anything, I think I've come out of this rather nicely. You're my escape route out of here, but I know you'll be of great use to me on the road as well. Your primary need is pleasure to counterbalance your Magic use. And you may think you have the upper hand now, but I'm going to make you accept me as your Master without adding 'stupid-dumb' to it every time." He turned smug looking, “And if Alp has taught me anything, it's that I'll enjoy doing exactly that. You want this? Fine. But we're doing it at my pace."

The Skaven snorted, “It won't be so quick-easy. Do you think that you can make me bow my head with one sex-fuck? This is just comfort-relief."

“[Stand]." He called her to her feet and held her in place with his command, “We'll see about that. You don't have the racial instinct of a Deathclaw, raising your tail for power and aggression. And nothing like a Wolfman pack instinct either, bowing down to a superior male." Her face read that she couldn't imagine him a superior anything, “I'd say that the Skaven instinct is opportunism, which doesn't do much for me. But you have something else: Your Sin is Lust. Pleasure is a part of who you are, and you've never really indulged that. So, I'm going to take my time devouring you."

A reel of black cloth, rough cut to around a foot in width, draped around her body and secured with a metal pin, that was all she had to serve as clothing. She'd done a rather good job with it, the fabric looking rather expensive, it probably came from whatever caravan was raided to supply the tent they currently sheltered in, and it set her apart from the other ratfolk with their animal pelts and sack cloth. Raphael would say that it suited the Mage aesthetic, but right now he occupied himself with pulling out the securing pin.

Everything fell away, and he began to speak, “So that's where the Rune mark is? Let's see what I've taken possession of…" Raphael drank her in, “Under four foot in height, even if you count the ears." He reached out and caught one between his first finger and thumb, assessing the texture, “Quite large, pale pink, about the size of my palm, and with a similar consistency to a human ear. Maybe a little softer." The Skaven squeaked, the sound suppressed into a catch of breath, “Sensitive. I won't forget that."

“The fur is as white as snow, which makes those red eyes stand out all the more. Like pools of fresh blood. There's a bit of a thickness to the hair atop her head and around the cheeks, just about enough for my fingers to vanish into." He cupped her cheek now, finding power in an expression which had grown uncertain as her Master assessed her so frankly, “The muzzle is short and rather broad, with a pink and slitted nose. The first Pet that I could share an appropriate kiss with, I think. But that's one hell of a bite. It might take a little practice."

“Explain-tell, what is a kiss?"

Raphael took a moment to consider his answer, not expecting to have to explain this, “It's a way in which humans express affection. Lovers press their lips together, taste one another, explore mouths – uh, muzzles – with their tongues-“

“Do-try it." She stole his momentum in the request, interrupting the assessment of her body in a bid for initiative. For Raphael it was a boon. From his knees, she was at eye level when standing, so he guided the Skaven forward, his hand finding the back of her head as he pulled the rodent close. His lips found hers, clipped momentarily by one of those large incisors, but he quickly adapted and so did she. What was hesitant became hungry, what was light became deep. Her arms wrapped around his head, and his other slipped about her midriff to draw the Skaven into an embrace. It was quite some time before the lesson was complete, and when they broke away she was quick to speak, “Like-enjoy kiss. Makes strange surging-warm feeling in chest. Not like expected-thought…" Her eyes were misty, and her hold of him had been particularly tight. The man might have interpreted it as vulnerability if he'd not spent his entire time with her being so fiercely contested.

Raphael was pleased with her assessment regardless, his hands equalising at her shoulders as he pushed the rodent back to arm's length, “Not bad at all. You taste strangely sweet. Is it from the tree bark I saw those tribesfolk gnawing on, perhaps? I suppose you need to do something to keep your teeth in check." No forthcoming elucidation led him to believe he'd hit the mark, and the man took advantage of this slight lull in her senses to continue his assessment, “Shoulders are narrow. Almost a little fragile feeling. I felt it when I held you – you weigh next to nothing. There's not much strength, but you're light and quick."

She blinked, and focused on his words, finding herself interested in what the human thought of her, “Fingers are without fur, quick and nimble with small claws. They felt rather nice when you curled them into my hair. You really had me quite tightly there." She gave a slight noise of annoyance as he brought his questing hands to her small chest, “As for this… There's certainly a small handful. Pink peaks emerging from the fur. And it's very neat, as well. I think you trim your fur quite carefully."

“Grooming is important-vital." The Skaven countered flatly, “Man-thing should take lessons."

“Maybe I'll make that one of your Pet duties." He scoffed, then set his thumbs to each nipple, tweaking slightly, “There's a slight elasticity, but not tremendous sensitivity – especially not compared to Alp." He was disappointed that he'd not uncovered another weak spot, but still took his time toying with them. He was a man after all, and what man can resist a pair of breasts placed into their hands? Though eventually he ran them lower, forming a ring around a stomach he could almost touch his fingers about, “And the Rune…"

Where else could the Lust Rune be placed but below her navel. It had the appearance of something akin to a half-heart, or perhaps a hook. Somehow vicious, intricate, and alluring all at once. It was the deepest jet black, and as he parted her fur it was clear to see that it went all the way through to her skin, expressed at every layer. She whimpered slightly as he pressed it, “Not too rough-hard…"

Raphael smiled, his hands shifting to her thighs and drawing lower, “The lower body fur is a little thicker, but only a little. Legs are digitigrade, but not as aggressively so as Kara and Alp." His eyes trailed to the floor, “The fur ceases around the pawtoes, which are splayed quite widely. Pink, with small claws. Nothing unexpected. And no scars, marks, or blemishes anywhere that I can see, the whole body over."

She harrumphed, “Does stupid-dumb Master approve?" The Skaven flicked her tail out behind her, “I was born-spawned to be a breeder. Of course I have no scar-marks. Of course I'm groom-clean-"

The man grasped the base of her tail and any further words were subsumed by a squeak that this time the Skaven was unable to suppress. He grinned and slid his hand down the length, “It's thin enough to connect my fingers around it. Long enough to trail along the ground if it were slack. And it seems to be quite sensitive, as well. Not expressive, but certainly dexterous."

He again squeezed the base, and again was treated to a noise she couldn't keep in, “Ah - I'm already slick-wet. Why are you making me wait-hold for so long? Test-check done. Aren't you ready for sex-fuck?"

Raphael gave a slight huff. She was certainly pushy, even now. But he had found a weak point or two, and was working on a theory of sorts as well. Though, for now there was something more demanding of attention, just as she had said. He readjusted his grip and lifted the Skaven up, laying her onto her back and spreading her legs, “Pussy is quite human-like. The whole region is pink skin with the fur carefully trimmed away. Folds are glistening, just as wet as you say. It looks quite small, but considering the size of your Chieftain in relation to all of his rat-wives, I have a feeling that I'll still fit you."

He parted her folds with his thumbs and drew close, trailing his tongue over the opening, the exhalation of the rodent half pleasure, half relief, “Stupid-Dumb Master should shut up and use tongue for pleasure instead." But, Raphael was in no hurry. He used his lips to apply a gentle pressure to a small clit, his facial hair quickly slickened as her lower body ground against him. The exposed mons of her femininity were his to explore, her juices his to savour, and he alternated the flickering of his tongue with a gentle nuzzling.

The effect was gradual. Burgeoning arousal became strong gasps of pleasure. Relieved of any command, the Skaven was free to move herself, and she took every advantage of that. Her fingers twisted into his messy hair, small claws pricking at his skull. Her legs crossed behind his shoulders, her strength bent towards holding him closer to her. Her dexterous tail coiled about his neck, denying any escape. Her whole body was wrapped about him, desperately clinging. She silenced him with the grinding of her crotch against his face, deafening him with her thighs, blinding him with the fur of her midriff, his vision filled with nothing but white fur and the black Rune of Lust.

Despite all of this, her pleasure was easy to read. A muffled voice still reached his ears, the twitch of her body was impossible to deny, and the rush of fluids which came with orgasm was his triumph. But she was not done. The Skaven maintained her grip, bucking upwards into his face deep into the afterglow of her pleasure, until it grew once again, and the man drew from her another wave of ecstasy by his questing tongue and the insistency of her motions.

It was then that Raphael at last extracted himself. He'd not been able to shave since arriving in this world, and his two months of unkempt facial hair was sodden against his face. But he looked delighted. The chest of his conquest was heaving, her eyes misted with the aftermath of pleasure but still focused on him with the silent demand of more.

“I figured something out." He wiped his face on the back of his hand, though the motion was futile considering how her orgasm still pearled in his beard. His jaw ached, but it was worth it, “It was the same when we kissed. You wrapped your whole self around me. You didn't let go until I made you then, as well."

Of course she did. The Skaven were clearly highly social creatures, and here was one that had kept her distance from her kin for her whole life. Getting close to any of her tribe may lead to her mark being revealed. So, every interaction must be careful. She must ever ensure that her clothing was just right, never strip or bathe or groom herself where she might be seen, “You must be completely touch-starved. You were eager for the kiss as soon as I called it affection."

The Skaven was quiet for a short time, but her answer was stern, “That's a very big assumption-guess." She blinked clarity back into her eyes, “It's not like I would say-admit if you were right."

Raphael smirked, “Here I thought this would be some power play where I'd have to fuck you into submission. But it's not, is it? For all your scheming, I'd bet just about anything that if I put you in my lap and wrapped my arms around you, you'd melt." It was nothing like Alp, “You're actually pretty soft underneath it all, aren't you?"

Her lip quivered, but the Skaven was not going to give up so easily, she taunted him, “Why not sex-fuck and find out, stupid-dumb Master?"

He was a little surprised at how clear the reaction was. The Skaven had placed him on the backfoot since she'd crept into his tent, and even bickered now. But it seemed that ultimately, it was intimacy and not pleasure that was her weakness. Raphael smiled for the irony of it, for love is antithetical to her Lust after all, “Well, I have a Mate and a Bitch already. I can have a Rat-Wife as well. But first, I want you to tell me your name. I won't make it an order to tell the truth. But I think you will anyway." He hoped, rather.

The Skaven pulled herself up onto her elbows, looking down at him with a standoffish expression. But after a time it softened into something that looked like acceptance, “…Khut." Her voice was quiet, but it reached him, “My name-word is Khut."

Raphael nodded his head, “Khut. When we leave this place, I'll call you Ku." A necessity to disguise a name from those that used magic. She gave him a look of understanding, and he pressed his luck, “Are you ready to call me Master without the 'stupid-dumb' yet?"

She harrumphed, “Perhaps if stupid-dumb Master puts me in his lap and holds me in his arms like he said, I might consider it." Her nose twitched, “This doesn't mean that you're right-correct about anything. This is just relief-aid for using my Magic. It's not like I like-enjoy you or anything!"

His eyes squeezed shut, and he did his absolute best to keep his face straight. Really? Did this world not have a concept of a tsundere? All that was missing from that statement was an extended 'baaaaakaaaa' and it would have been a near perfect cliché. It was some time before he trusted himself to speak – as to snort with laughter here would have been a faux pas that even he might not recover from, “…Okay, I understand."

Raphael at last slipped out of his armoured pants, sitting upright on the floor of soft furs and with a sweep of his arm lifting the Skaven and placing her into his lap. Immediately, legs crossed against the small of his back, her body pressed against his, his maleness pinned between them. He tried not to look too smug, one hand gripping her thigh to support her position, the other between her shoulders. He held her for some time, and was about to speak when quite suddenly, a small hand grasped his cock rather tightly, “You have-own Mate and Bitch. Now Rat-Wife as well."

Her question was softly uttered, “Will it pain-hurt?" But she did not allow him to answer before an upward shift of her hips brought the sodden lips of her femininity to the head of his cock, “No-Don't say. Don't care-mind. Want-Need this."

Khut unleashed a high pitched squeak of agony as she impaled herself to her limits in a single downwards motion, bridling every ounce of her strength and resolve in the act. For Raphael, it was a moan of absolute pleasure as he sheathed three quarters of his cock into a silken vice, his grip on the Skaven tightening as nails dug into the flesh beyond soft fur. He held her quivering form, “Fuck. You didn't need to do it all in one go…"

Her breath was rapid, pain without pleasure, but she looked up with a victorious smile, “But it made Master squeeze-tight me…" She swallowed, “Master is still idiot-dumb. But this affection-kind is nice. Hugs are nice-warm. Kisses are fluttery-hot. Sex-fuck is… hurts, but not bad-hurt."

It was frustrating how difficult it was to get a handle on this Skaven. Khut was courageous and determined, that much was clear from her attempt on him and her grand plan. Obnoxious and unyielding as well, evident in their negotiations. But also vulnerable and hungry for affection. Raphael only sighed, stroking the back of her head, having entirely given up at this point. She may have forced herself into a place as his Pet, but now he genuinely wanted her, “I'm the Master. I said that I'll set the pace, and I will…"

The grip at her thigh tightened, preventing any further movements under her own agency, and Raphael held her in his arms while he waited for the Skaven to get used to him. The man was rather pleased with his maleness for his size, and seemed to have hit a barrier with still a good two inches or so left outside of Khut. He scented blood, and he closed his eyes, “[Tell] me if this hurts too much. It's a command this time."

In truth, he could not deny his own arousal. Her soft chest pressed against him, her small claws scrabbled for purchase on his back, her legs bound her close and ground her crotch into him. He could feel every exhalation against his skin, her tail wrapped around his upper leg. What had began so antagonistic had certainly become intimate. And now, he rolled her hips, drawing her upwards slowly, only a few inches before again sheathing himself deep.

“You're so tight. I can barely move you." He gave a slight huff, “But I need this, too. The whole time I had my face in your cunt, I was as hard as steel." Raphael swallowed. He wasn't going to last long, though for her first time and with this much of a size difference, he wasn't going to have to. Rather than move himself, he took the weight of her small body into his arms and slowly drew the Skaven up and down. And little by little, those small exhalations against his chest became gasps of pleasure, and then moans of ecstasy.

“Harder-faster!" Khut demanded, though it was clear from how breathless she was that doing either would probably not be a good idea, “More sex-fuck. More cuddle-hold. More kiss-warm!" Her small hands found his shoulders, pulling him down and seizing his lips. It was more than the Skaven could take. Her body spasmed, a wave of femcum washed over Raphael, and she came so hard she saw stars.

The man's fingers flexed, and he broke away from the kiss to give his own throaty moan. The Skaven was pure pleasure, a tightness that bordered on painful, but her desperate affection roused him like nothing else. He bucked his hips, at last contributing his own motions, the rock of his body bouncing her in his lap, his cock pressing against a barrier which with every strike yielded just a little more. Until at last, the head of his maleness battered through cervix invaded her womb, her hips finally flush with his own, and his orbs twitched as he filled her with his essence.

He grit his teeth, a grunt of pleasure subsumed into a growl worthy of Kara. Raphael envisioned a future of this Skaven in his lap, fucked so hard and often that her insides were moulded to fit him, her small body a toy for his pleasure. Another Pet to serve his own lusts, the thought of it fuelled his orgasm as a kaleidoscope of fantasies played out. Perhaps he would layer her cunt with his Deathclaw's and compare the qualities of each of them? Perhaps he would force his Wolfman's muzzle into her crotch and have him lap his seed from her if he was so insistent on having it before his morning meal?

Small fingers scrabbled at his back, the impulse to sink her claws into him stymied by [Tame], but her whole body squeezed him so desperately. No words came, and it was a time until pleasure gave way to exhaustion. Breathing slowly softened. And Raphael at last spoke, “She's cute when she's asleep at least."

The quiet dragged on for a few moments more, and then a voice came from the shadows, “It looks like it only took one 'sex-fuck' to bow her head after all."

Raphael didn't jump. He'd gotten used to the World God showing up whenever he added a new Pet to his Party, and they would always arrive with an afterglow ruining abruptness. From the dark strode a cloaked man, leaning against his staff and looking rather amused for what could be seen of his face, “For a while, I thought she was going to place you under her thumb. But you won out in the end. Good show, but it was a little short. Appropriate for the first time of such a fragile thing, I suppose. This time for my highlight, it's uncontested. When you made your big assumption about the little Skaven being desperate for affection, you sounded so hopeful yourself, you know? I very much enjoyed that part."

He cringed in response, but quickly turned his accusations onto the World God, “Did you really give me the Whip of Binding just for this?"

The cloaked figure only chortled, “Only one hole to poke in my design this time? No, I didn't give you that item just for this. I thought you'd reach straight for [Tame]. The whip is to give to the Skaven Chieftain. That's how you purchase your Rat-Wife here. Tell him what it does and he'll get so carried away thinking about how he's going to use it on his harem that he'll agree to just about anything! He may be smart, but he's still a man!"

~ SevenWingedDragon ~

Note: Special thanks to user AaAAaAaAaAAAaaHhHhhHhh for the encouragement and for nudging me into thinking more about Alp. Now that there are three Pets, rather than push towards our fourth party member in the next chapter, instead I want to have some fun with the team as it is. So, with a few months to kill before Khut can put her escape plan into motion, the Beastmaster is going to have some time to enjoy himself. Now he's got a Mate, a Bitch, and a Wife to satisfy - and I want to explore that dynamic. With lots of smut since I went a little light on the sex scene this time.

I'm still counting on the comments for suggestions for the story going forward, and for creatures from any and all franchises, mythology, or whatever else, that the [Creation] user has brought into the world. And of course, every comment, fave, and vote encourages me and keeps me going. Thank you for reading.

Extra Note: Mind the comments of this one for spoilers on part IV.

Have a most excellent day.