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Through the Muck

Paul sat in the large armchair, hunched forward with one hand touching a delicate bruise around his eye as he contemplated the dying embers in the hearth before him. Outside rain clattered against the windows, and the occasional bolts of lightning illuminated the room in cold blue-white flashes. He rubbed the bruise on his cheek as he stared at the dull red coals, taking a metal poker and jabbing at them to re-kindle a few small flames and banish the chill from the air.

As he reached for a log to throw onto the fire, another bolt of lightning illuminated the room, the window casting an odd shadow that gave him pause. Paul looked behind him for a moment, before finishing what he had started, casting a log onto the still hot embers and stirring the coals until it caught. The room brightened as the shadows were banished and a warm orange glow grew brighter. He added a second log, and stood there with his arms over his chest, listening. He was expecting a visitor that night. He ignored the popping and crackling as the fresh wood caught fire before him, catching the sound of the window latch softly clicking open. He heard the creak of the old rusty hinges, and a steady stream of water dripping onto the tile floor.

The window closed with another soft creak, and the sound of dripping water and wet footsteps and slapping slowly closer to him. He was expecting his visitor, but he still jumped slightly from the cold as wet arms that wrapped around his torso, chilling him as the cold water soaked into his blouse. He gasped, inhaling deeply through his nose, and his body shuddered as he was assaulted by the rank smell of wet, filthy fur. The smell and touch made his skin crawl, and his guts twist with nausea, but he didn't pull away from his visitor. He felt hot breath in his ear, followed by a tongue running up the side of his neck.

Paul shifted his stance, and the firm grip released as he turned to face the other being, looking up into the beady black eyes of the female rat he knew as Pox. Paul was by no means a short man at 6 feet, but the rat woman was a full head taller than him. She smiled, showing off her razor sharp incisors that practically glowed in the firelight. She was naked save for a tattered moth-eaten cloak over her shoulders that did nothing to protect her from the weather, and a worn leather belt around her hips holding a sheathed dagger on one side and a small pouch on the other.

Pox looked him over and noticed the dark purple blotch on his face, grabbing his head to turn it from side to side to get a better look. When her examination was over, she put her arms around the human, and pulled him into an embrace. He did nothing to resist her, and in fact slid his arms around her thick waist, curling his fingers into her pelt. As Pox pulled him in, Paul's face pressed against the wet and greasy black fur of her breasts. He closed his eyes, forced to take in her sour musky odor as she held him there while caressing her fingers through his shoulder length hair.

Despite its repulsiveness, Paul was quite familiar with the rat's smell and he swallowed back the bile building in his throat as he remembered the first time he had experienced her foul scent. Pox had cornered him in an alley and forced herself upon him, using him for her pleasure before abruptly leaving him as soon as she was satisfied. Paul also remembered going home after that and doing his best to scrub his body clean in the hottest bath that he could draw for himself, though her smell seemed to linger on him for days after like he had been stained by it somehow. He also remembered finding out he was infested with lice from her, and the fever that followed.

Pox remembered the fever too, and eventually released him from her possessive embrace, and pushed him back. She still held onto his long brown hair firmly with one hand as she produced a bottle with some greenish brown substance in it. Bits of plant matter swirled around in the bottle as the rat swished it around. She pulled the cork out with her teeth and then pressed the mouth to Paul's lips, tipping it back and pouring it into his mouth, while her other hand moved to grab his jaw, forcing him to swallow it.

Paul did, shuddering at the burning sensation of strong alcohol going down his throat, along with the bitter medicinal taste of the herbs that were soaking in it. He had first tasted the unpleasant mixture when she had snuck into his bedroom a week after their first encounter in the alley. He figured Pox must have followed him home after she was done with him, as the city was large and there was no way to easily find him otherwise. After making use of him again while he was in the throws of a fever dream, she had force fed a dose of the potion to him. Whatever was in the concoction proved to be most effective, clearing up Paul's fever in a day or two after. It was also a phenomenal preventative, and the rat always brought a bottle of it with her when she called on him. Since her visits had become regular, he found that he never fell ill.

After that part of their ritual had concluded, the rat pocketed the bottle back into her pouch, and she pulled Paul close again, this time pressing her mouth to his own, forcing her tongue into his mouth as she kissed him. He was powerless to stop her as she swirled the slimy pink appendage around in his mouth and he tasted her feted breath, and he once more felt the bile rising in his guts. Pox held the kiss for only a moment, before pulling away again, and she gave him a firm shove, while her tail hooked around his ankle, and she sent the young man tumbling back, falling to the floor with a heavy thud and a groan. The rat then pounced on him, pinning him to the ground and straddling his hips, before making a move to disrobe him.

Paul grabbed her wrist at the last moment before her claws were brought to bear on the silk fabric, and he spoke the first words to her since she had arrived. “Stop! Easy now!" he whispered softly, “I'll take the shirt off, just give me a moment, I don't need you shredding another one!" he said, starting to work at the buttons, undoing them one by one, jerking to stop the rat when her impatience showed, before pulling it open and shrugging his way out of it.

“You take too long, should be naked next time," she hissed back. “You should know when I come, be ready for me." Pox watched him pull the shirt away, baring his smooth chest. She then leaned in running her snout along his skin, snuffling and huffing over him, and breathing in his own scent, before she dragged her tongue up his body from his belly up his chest and to his neck and face. “You must know, you smell good tonight, human. Taste good too." She said, pressing her chest to his.

Paul gasped at the lick and grabbed onto her waist with his hands, his fingers sinking into the thick greasy fur there. He inhaled hard again, breathing in her scent, and wrinkling his nose. “I did like you asked, Pox, no lye soap or perfumes tonight." He said softly, squirming his hips between her strong thighs. She claimed to be able to taste the residue of the soaps and perfumes he normally used when bathing, though he didn't quite believe that, instead preferring to think she wanted him as filthy as she was.

She nodded her approval and then leaned back again, giving Paul enough room to slip his hands under her and remove his pants, pushing them down. Despite the intense visceral reaction most aspects about her provoked in him, his penis was already rising with arousal. Pox helped it along by grabbing onto it, giving it a few gentle squeezes and strokes. Her touch was surprisingly soft and warm, and he found himself pressing his hips toward her touch, while her other hand rested on his chest. She smiled as she looked down at him with her fingers teasing over the thin scars that crisscrossed over his skin, marks from her frequent visits. When she was satisfied that he was ready, she shifted her position and held him steady, before lowering herself onto his rod with a gasp.

Paul covered his mouth with his wrist to stifle a groan as he felt her hot tunnel sinking down onto him and he closed his eyes tightly. His other hand gripped at her thigh as his entire body tensed for a moment as she settled down. He was breathing hard by the time she was done, and he moved both of his hands back to her sides, gently running his fingers down it, feeling over her pelt and the valleys where her fur was parted by scars that let him touch bare skin. Rats were a violent bunch, even among their own kind, and Pox had her victories and defeats mapped all over her body. Paul traced one particular line over her ribs under her left arm, one he had put there himself when he had tried, and failed, to drive her off one night.

Pox practically purred at his touch, especially when he traced that mark. The dagger had cut a deep wound into her flesh that took several weeks to heal, but she was fond of the scar it left behind. She leaned over Paul, resting her hands on his shoulders as she began to work her hips up and down, riding along his shaft with soft gasps. Her grip tightened and pressed her sharp claws into his shoulders and collar bone as she looked down at him with naked lust in her eyes.

Paul continued to rub and grip at her body, his own tensing under her as he began to push up to meet her hips, gasping and panting harder as his body heated up. He opened his eyes and looked up at her for a few moments, before letting out a louder moan than he expected, closing his eyes and mouth tightly again. His fingers gripped firmly at her hips as he pushed her down into his lap harder and harder, as eager as she was.

“Good…human…" she said, between panting breaths as she started to ride him more quickly, bouncing in his lap as she kept him pinned beneath her larger form. Her own eyes closed, and she smiled as she bounced on him over and over, relishing the pleasure she took from him, feeling it grow quickly toward her climax.

Paul could feel her body tensing up and he knew what was coming, the rat didn't have much stamina. “S-slow down…" he panted and groaned, trying to squeeze harder at her body and slow her movements. He was far from his own climax, and he wanted to catch up, but the rat was stronger than he was, and her movements were unabated. Her hands gripped at him tighter and tighter, squeezing at his shoulders and digging her sharp claws into his skin, piercing it and making him gasp in pain through clenched teeth as she continued to slam her hips into his.

The rat was a wild animal, gasping each breath as she bounced on him, keeping that firm grip on his shoulders as she made it clear to the man that she was only there for her pleasure. “No slow…need this…" she hissed back between pants as she looked down at him again, her eyes glittering in the firelight, “Need you…"

Paul caught sight of those eyes and stared up at them, doing his best to hold in his moans as he was ridden hard by the rat above him. Eventually his hands left her hips and moved up to fondle at her breasts. He pinched her nipples and tugged firmly on them as he groaned out. “Ah…not so rough…" he said and closed his eyes again, feeling his own orgasm approaching the more she used him.

Suddenly, the rat pushed herself down firmly into his lap and rolled her hips, grinding herself there as she squealed in her bliss. Her tunnel squeezed around his shaft, gripping firmly at him as her orgasm rocked through her and she lost control of her bladder, urinating on him during her climax. When it was over, she slumped forward, releasing his shoulders from her death grip and moving to cradle Paul's head in her bloody fingers, resting her weight on her elbows as she pressed her body into his.

Paul squirmed under her, not having a chance to finish, as she went limp on top of him. He felt the hot piss soaking his groin and his body shuddered as his guts churned and his skin crawled. There was nothing to do but lie there until she let him up. He closed his eyes and took slow breaths through his clenched teeth to try and calm himself as he lay there for several long moments, listening to her own panting above him. After a time, she started moving again, rising up to a sitting position, and she was about to pull off of him as Paul grabbed her wrist, holding it firmly. “Wait…Pox" he said, looking up at her. “Don't go yet…let's go again," he said softly.

She looked down at him and smiled, her fingers brushing his hair away from his face, leaving small trails of his blood over his forehead. “The human wants more?" she asked, to which he replied with a nod of his head. She seemed surprised by that. Occasionally she stayed around to taunt him after their carnal acts had concluded, or she would make sure he climaxed as well, but more often than not she came and went after getting what she wanted. This was the first time he had asked her to stay. “Why?"

Paul panted and pulled on her arm, “I… I want more tonight…" he said, looking up at her, his hands moving to hold her hips again.

She looked down at him and tilted her head to the side, smirking slightly, “I disgust you." She said. She then leaned down against him and rested her forearms on his chest to better look him in the eyes, keeping her teeth visible as she leered down at him.

He swallowed, clearly intimidated by those sharp teeth so close to his face, though she had only ever bitten him in acts of lust. “Y-you…do…" he said softly, “Everything about you makes my skin crawl…"

Pox nodded, shifted her position a bit, deliberately rubbing her body against his as she slid to a position laying alongside of him now, with her head propped on one hand, while the other trailed a sharp claw over his chest. She nodded with a giggle, “So why you want more?"

Paul sighed heavily and swallowed, “I…don't know…" he shrugged, “You are filthy…you give me fleas…and lice…and a feverish infection…and…" he trailed off, bobbing his head side to side a few times while his fingers played through her fur. He continued, “Your fur is greasy…you soil everything you touch…you smell like all the worst parts of sour milk and vinegar combined…"

She nodded her head again, continuing to trace the claw over his chest, the tip scratching his skin and drawing small lines of blood behind it as it randomly trailed around. “So…why you want more?" she asked him again.

Paul swallowed another lump in his throat, and turned his head away for a few moments, listening to the sound of her patient breathing and the crackling fire. Without looking back he spoke again “I…think…I love you."

The movement of Pox's claw stopped and she went silent for a long while, leaving Paul to think he said something wrong. He was about to pull away from her when she finally spoke. “Took long enough." She said looking into his eyes.

Paul stared at her for several long moments, his mouth hanging partially open. “W-wait, what do you mean?" he asked.

She giggled, running a hand over his head, “I not stupid. You changed months ago, after father found out. After you cut me," She said.

“Oh…yes, I suppose you are right," he said. His father was insufferable, insisting on perfection in all aspects of his life. He wasn't pleased that Paul wasn't seeking a wife, and finding out about Pox only served to further enrage him. After Paul had cut Pox, and she had vanished into the night, Paul showed his father the bloody knife as proof he had slain the rat, or at least driven her off. The older man had been satisfied with that for a time.

Pox leaned in and nuzzled at his neck, teasing her lips over it, “You so happy when I came back, didn't fight or complain." She said before sighing and sitting up. She traced a careful finger over Paul's temple and cheek, “Father find out I not really gone though," she said softly.

Paul nodded, “Yeah…he was rather upset about me 'dragging our family through the muck' as he put it, and decided to go to blows over it." He rubbed at his temple and sighed.

Pox huffed at that, “What he know? Muck is great!" she said, “I go through muck all the time!" she said turning her nose up in an exaggerated expression of pride.

Paul chuckled at that, “You know that's not what he meant." He nudged her back and sat up, before putting his arms around her again, resting his hands above her tail, he then let out a sigh, looking down, “Though, honestly I'd rather stay in the muck with you. You are one of the most honest creatures I know."

“I lie cheat steal all the time," she said with a shrug, draping her arms around his neck as she looked down at him.

He nodded, looking up again, “Yes, but you at least can admit it…my father does much the same, but if one were to call him out like that, he'd declare that they were insulting his honor. It's the same with any member of the respected houses in this city. At least with you, I think I know where I stand." She nodded her head, “No reason to fool you. I love you. You cute. Sex is good." She rubbed the back of his head and looked down at him again. Paul just stared at her in stunned silence and she giggled. “What wrong? Rat got your tongue?"

Paul shook his head, “You…just said you love me…I…wasn't expecting that." He said and sighed, leaning against her. “It's good though, that you are so open and honest. Everything is such a game in my life, and I can't even have an honest conversation without trying to figure out the other person's motives. Having to hide my own motives…" he ran his hands along her body.

Pox held him, gently rubbing back at him, “So why not leave? Stop being so fancy. Could come to warrens with me." She teased, giving him an impish grin, “Could fuck like rat all day long!"

He rolled his eyes in response, “Why don't you leave the warrens, come live a civilized life. I bet you'd be very pretty if you had a proper bath in some hot soapy water to wash all the grime out of your fur."

Pox quickly shook her head, and wagged a claw at him like she was reprimanding him, “No bath! I swim in river, get rained on. I clean enough, pretty enough!"

Paul grimaced and stuck his tongue out at that and his body gave another revolted shudder, “The sewers drain into the river. Besides, it would make it easier on me to be around you if you were clean and didn't smell so bad."

She shrugged, “Don't care. No bath. Not even for you!" She said again, pulling him back into her rank fur, and squeezing at him, delighting in the way he squirmed and shivered in her grip.

Paul pulled his face out of her cleavage, pushing off of her as he chuckled a bit at that and sighed, “Not even for me huh?" he rested his cheek against her and ran his fingers up and down her back, digging in to drag his nails through her fur.

She pat his shoulder, “I love you for you. No want you change. If you love me for me, you no want me change."

Paul had to admit she had a good point there. He sighed a bit more. “Father will never accept you, you know," he said, and then let out a sudden yelp as Pox grabbed onto him as she rolled onto her back, wrapping her legs around his hips.

She looked him in the eyes and squeezed him against her body. “You accept me. That all I need," she said and then pushed his hips into hers for a moment, “Now mate with me, show you really love your nasty muck rat," she said commandingly.

Paul watched her for a moment and swallowed, steeling himself before he leaned in and pressed his lips to her muzzle, kissing her. He held it for a few moments before pulling back. “Alright…through the muck it is."