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(Commission) The Rat Queen Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2021-10-30 02:51:21 +0000 UTCA commissioned piece featuring Irikit returning to Morathi's fortress and learning that she's grown resistant to her mind-control. Forced to start over, this time Irikit doesn't take any chances of her plaything slipping out of her control again.
Features: a whole lot of Mind-control, a rat-girl getting down and dirty, some intergenerational advice on whoring, and the merciless slaughter of friends and family by mind-controlled innocents. Fun!
-o-o-o-
The dark sorceress Morathi was bored.
She was bored quite often of late, somehow ever since that filthy beast Irikit had skittered away from her court she just hadn’t been able to get into her usual entertainment in the same way. The scheming of conquest seemed hollow, no matter how cruel or despicable her plans were, no matter how sure she was that they would work. The torture of prisoners had once been a favourite way of relaxing, now the screams were just grating, and she couldn’t help but just wish to get the wretched peasants in her dungeons killed off nice and quickly just to spare her ears the whining.
Even her harem of slaves just couldn’t seem to please her like she’d trained them to anymore. Some of them she’d had for decades, raising them to worship her for almost all their lives. But it didn’t seem to matter. None of them were performing to her standards and it just didn’t seem to matter what she did. She’d beaten Taluk, her most devoted orcish loveslave, almost hard enough to make the poor thing cry. It took a lot to make any orc show such weakness or pain, and Morathi didn’t doubt any other one of her pets would have been screaming and sobbing in agony after just a tenth of the punishment she’d doled out onto her prized slave. She’d never been so angry before, never taken out her frustration out on her harem, that was what her dungeons were for. It disturbed her slightly, violence and cruelty were nothing new to her, but she’d never been so out of control as to misplace them onto those who were supposed to please her.
She sighed heavily and massaged the bridge of her nose, even her throne didn’t feel quite as comfortable as it usually did. She shifted restlessly, broad hips and colossal backside making the soft, sculpted leather of her seat creak in complaint beneath her weight.
Perhaps it was all in her head, but she couldn’t help but connect Irikit’s absence with her lack of satisfaction. The wretched beast had left weeks ago and just at that same time, she’d found herself more and more irritated by the lack of pleasure her usual comforts afforded.
It didn’t make sense, she’d hated having the little rat underfoot those weeks she’d been scurrying around the fortress, and each time she’d returned, no matter how short the visit, she’d been equally infuriating. Since she’d last gone there had been no grating, nasal voice cutting at her ears, no foul stench lingering over her home like a vile perfume, no feeling of yellow eyes leering at her as she walked her corridors. There was no reason she should have felt anything but relief now that Irikit was out of her way, and yet…
She sighed again, hand wandering down her body from her breast to her stomach. Perhaps this ennui was thanks to something in her diet? She had flayed her previous chef after a lacklustre banquet the night after Irikit had gone, perhaps the little skaven skank’s absence was just a coincidence?
There was the sound of approaching footsteps and she pursed her lips, straightening up in her throne and uncrossing her legs. It never hurt to give her servants a glimpse at what they’d never get their hands on, fear was a good motivator, but lustful longing was a close second.
Her aide, a young, thin dark elf swept into the throne room with her usual elegance, bowing respectfully to her queen before straightening and speaking. Morathi was barely listening, instead casting her gaze up and down her personal attendant with a critical eye. The woman was beautiful of course, only the best would do for her right-hand assistant, well-built and effortlessly beautiful. Her golden hair and sharp red eyes caught the attention of the troops whenever she passed by, though her permanently haughty and disapproving expression usually did enough to convince them not to try their luck. Morathi had never bothered to lie with the woman, usually preferring to keep business and pleasure separate, but with how disappointing she’d found her harem of late, perhaps it was worth considering dragging the proud slut to her chambers and railing her for a night or two?
“Your darkness?” the aide said, a little louder than she had been speaking before.
Morathi blinked and sat up. “Repeat yourself.”
“Your Darkness, the Skaven envoy has returned to the fortress, she requests an audience.” Her aide said slowly, pursing her lips.
Morathi sat up, grip tightening on the arms of her throne in excitement. “Irikit has returned?”
“Yes, your darkness.” the aide nodded. “Shall I send her away, or have her shot?”
“Perhaps both, that’s always fun.” Morathi chuckled, nibbling on a perfectly manicured finger. “But no… no send her in. Perhaps she’s got something interesting for me, after all our alliance with Clan Moulder has been quite profitable so far.”
“At once, your darkness.” the aide bowed, turning on a spiked heel and stepping towards the doors, only to pause and scowl as she saw Irikit sauntering in already. “Lady Morathi did not summon you, rat!” she snarled, baring her fangs in outrage.
Irikit smirked and shrugged. “Sure just did, weren’t you listening?”
“You were to wait at the gates, beast. The dark lady does not desire filthy flea-ridden rats roaming her halls.”
“Nyaw, look at you, so prim and proper.” Irikit purred, circling her, tail flicking with mischievous delight. “Don’t worry, Morathi doesn’t mind, do you?” she looked up to the dark elf queen watching her from her raised throne.
“You should not have come in uninvited.” Morathi said, feeling like she should have been angrier about the rat’s impudence, but smiling anyway. “But you have, so that will be all.”
“As you say, your darkness.” the aide frowned, bowing again and squeaking as Irikit’s slender palm smacked against her tight backside.
The look her aide gave the young skaven girl as she made her exit was truly murderous, but Morathi barely noticed, unable to focus on much of anything beyond Irikit as she sauntered casually closer and up to her very throne.
“How’ve you been, Your Darkness?” the rat asked, flashing a yellow smile.
“Impatient.” Morathi said softly, her chest heaving excitedly. “Now, why are you here?”
Irikit raised a brow. “I was instructed to offer you a new weapon, in exchange for your support for Clan Moulder.” She said softly, leaning in closer towards Morathi. For an instant Morathi thought she saw a fine green smoke spurt from one of Irikit’s rings, but it faded so quickly she dismissed it as a trick of the light. Irikit laughed softly, leaning yet closer, until the dark elf flushed and smacked her away.
“Stay back you filthy skag.” She snarled. “I can barely stand your stench from where you are now.”
Irikit rubbed her cheek reproachfully, a furious look coming to her beady eyes before she smiled and bowed lowly. “My apologies, your darkness. I was overcome by your loveliness.”
“Eugh.” Morathi grunted, shivering at the notion of the Skaven running her hands over her body. She attributed her blush to disgust rather than arousal and went completely unaware of the flooding of her womanhood with desire as Irikit’s scent wormed into her nose. “Speak not of my body you vile beast, just tell me what you need.”
“Ah, so cold to me, your darkness.” Irikit sighed. “And I thought we’d become friends over my last visit?”
“Never.” Morathi hissed. “Now tell me your business or I’ll follow my aide’s suggestion and hunt you for sport.”
Irikit rolled her eyes and toyed with a strange sack hanging from her belt. “As I said, Moulder would like to offer you a new weapon, the recipe for a gas bomb which should prove most effective in your campaigns. In exchange, we’d like your support in a little… internal dispute.”
“An internal dispute.” Morathi scowled. “So nothing that concerns me. Tell me, why I should bother?”
“Our price could make it your concern.” Irikit shrugged. “And you would be free to approach the conundrum however you liked.”
“Explain to me why this gas bomb is worth the effort of involving myself.” Morathi frowned. “Does it do something interesting? Turn its victims inside out perhaps?”
Irikit lifted the gas bomb off her belt and bounced it in her palm. “Nothing so gruesome, but it could be just as fun with the right application.” She sprayed a fine green mist into the air between her and Morathi. The dark elf wrinkled her nose as the scent of the mist met her nostrils and fought the urge to retch.
“Ugh… wh… what is that?” She coughed. “The weapon?”
“No, no I wouldn’t be mad enough to use our new weapon on you, your darkness.” Irikit purred, smiling innocently as she clipped the bomb back onto her hip. “Just a little perfume. No, our weapon is a pheromone bomb. Deploy it on a group of your enemies and they’ll fall under your suggestion. You could order them to spill their secrets, or one another’s guts, or to march into battle against their own kin.”
Morathi coughed again, eyes watering and mouth open in a lustful pant. “You… you could?” Her sharp red eyes fluttered as she was overwhelmed with arousal, a bright green glow growing behind her pupils until her eyes were shining with magical light.
Irikit smiled and stroked a finger over the dark elf’s plush lips. “If you wanted. Of course you’d have to be very careful when making it, it binds its victim’s wills to the person the pheromones belong to, and you wouldn’t want just anyone being able to make you do whatever they wanted, would you?”
“No.” Morathi nodded in agreement, mouth opening as Irikit’s finger played with her lower lip. “Th… that would be… a disaster.”
Irikit laughed and patted her cheek. “Wouldn’t it just.”
Morathi moaned and sucked submissively on Irikit’s thumb, mighty chest heaving in its tiny constraints and fat thighs rubbing together restlessly as her mind became a one-track submissive mess. She wanted to taste Irikit, wanted to feel Skaven cock in her cunt, wanted to perfume her body with Skaven spunk so that everyone who ever met her knew that she was an owned woman.
“You’re just aching for me, aren’t you?” Irikit cooed. “Gods I dreamed about this breeding-sow body of yours every night I was away.”
“Huh?” Morathi blinked. The green light behind her eyes flickered then faded, leaving the dark elf to scowl impatiently at the skaven who had been controlling her.
“Get… off… my… throne.” She hissed through her teeth, tiny flames fluttering around her fingers as she regained her senses.
Irikit sensed danger immediately and scurried down the steps, doing her best to look contrite rather than immensely frustrated that her favourite fuckpet had developed an immunity to her gas. “Apologies your darkness, I meant no offence.”
“I don’t care what you meant, do it again and I’ll feed you your own tail.” Morathi growled. “Your laboratory is untouched; manufacture enough of these gas bombs you wish to cell me for a demonstration. You have three days, then I’ll test whatever you’ve made on you.”
“Oh, it shouldn’t take that long to have what you desire.” Irikit said with a pained smile.
Morathi didn’t deign to give a response, rising from her throne and sweeping past the frustrated rat, muttering about needing a bath to rid herself of the stink of Skaven.
-o-o-o-
Irikit scowled at the gas bag in her lab. Morathi, true to her word, hadn’t tampered with the place since she’d left, but she’d clearly been inside by the discarded panties and lingering scent of frantic masturbation. Apparently despite regaining her senses, the lingering pheromones and mental suggestions embedded in Morathi’s mind had led her to making the lab her personal masturbatory sanctuary. It made sense, with all the time Irikit had spent in there her scent lay thick over the whole place, Morathi couldn’t resist the urge to drink in her musk even now.
“Well, you clearly work.” Irikit sighed, piercing the thick leather with the point of her knife and letting the thick green goo inside pour out. She dabbed a little of the liquid with the knife again and held it to a nearby candle. The liquid sizzled and burned with a bright white flame, almost too bright to look at.
Irikit hummed, the flame and the scent of the liquid meant that it hadn’t expired like she’d hoped, the problem was far more annoying. It seemed without a regular resupply of fresh pheromones, the compounds of the gas would lose potency. That meant that she couldn’t just dose Morathi and leave for a month or two like she just had, not without the bitch recovering her wits. Irikit supposed she should be thankful the loss of mental control over her victim hadn’t also given Morathi enough self-awareness or memory to realise what had been done to her. She snarled with frustration and stabbed the knife into the desk.
She couldn’t even rely on that, given long enough, who knows what Morathi might remember.
“Gods damn you.” she hissed, before running her hands over her face and tugging restlessly on her ears. “Fine, if that’s how it’s going to be, let’s get to work.”
If it wasn’t an issue with the compound degrading, the immediate solution was simple, more. More gas to get Morathi under control again, and then yet more so that once she was enslaved, Irikit could order her to self-medicate on the mind-numbing musk and solidify her control. Maybe one day she’d find a way to permanently ensnare the arrogant slut’s mind without the need for more chemicals, but for now it would have to do.
-o-o-o-
“Rat!” Morathi roared, kicking through the door of Irikit’s lab not two hours later.
Irikit yelped in surprise and dropped the gas bomb she had been rigging, the fat leather sack fell to the ground and burst, filling the room with thick green smoke. She swore and spun to watch Morathi’s reaction nervously. The bomb hadn’t been ready, the detonator not yet fitted, so honestly she was surprised that the thing had gone off at all, but it was still a waste and once Morathi came back to her senses she wouldn’t be pleased.
Morathi was choking, clutching her throat as the gas poured into her, her eyes bulged and watered, her chest heaved erratically, until finally she let out a pathetic whine and slumped to her knees, drooling.
“You worthless cow!” Irikit snapped, smacking Morathi hard on the cheek. “Look at what you made me do!”
“Uhh, suh…. Sohrry.” Morathi slurred, struggling to focus with so much fog in her brain. “I… I don’t…”
“Shut up.” Irikit growled, putting her hands on her hips. “Gods I don’t even know how long this will last… fuck, I’m too busy to enjoy you too.”
Morathi moaned, hands between her legs pressing needily against her panties. Her mouth was open in a breathless pant, spit slowly oozing down her tongue and onto her chest. Her thoughts were moving at a snail’s pace, creeping through her synapses barely fast enough for her to keep up with listening to Irikit. Listening and thinking for herself felt so hard, she wished Irikit would just tell her what to do so she could stop having to struggle to think for herself.
“Oi!” Irikit snapped, smacking Morathi’s cheek again. “Listen! You’re going to waddle your fat ass over to the kitchens and bring me something to eat whilst I work, then you’re going to keep an eye on those vials.”
She pointed a nail towards the simmering, bubbling lab equipment currently brewing up yet more of her pheromone gas. “When each vial is ready, you take them off the flame and you pour them into those casks. Spill any and I’ll make you lick it up like the bitch you are.”
“Yuh… yes Irikit.” Morathi nodded, smiling gratefully for the orders, until Irikit smacked her again, this time on a massive milk-white tit.
“That’s not what you call me, cow.” The skaven growled.
“Sorry… My queen.” Morathi mewed, bowing low to the ground and nuzzling her lips to Irikit’s bare foot. She received a kick in the teeth for her kowtowing, and obediently scurried away to find her owner something to eat.”
When she returned Irikit took the feast she’d brought without thanks, yanking her chest piece apart to free the fat fleshy meat of her tits. A few pinches to her nipples, a few smacks to her copious udders, and Morathi was sent to work on the gas like a mindless subordinate, and not the most dangerous elf in the realm.
Irikit kept an eye on her pet as she worked, enjoying the sight of Morathi’s massive bubblebutt wiggling as she obediently stared into the vials to make sure they didn’t overboil. It didn’t hurt to have some eye candy whilst she toiled, but Irikit was painfully aware that she’d made a promise on behalf of clan Moulder for an amount of gas bombs she was only fairly sure she could produce in time. She ached to slide herself back into the soft wet folds of her favourite slut, to come home to the hole she’d lost her virginity to and pack it tight with her cream, but she quite liked having a head, and if she didn’t produce the goods then both Morathi and Moulder would want to take it off.
She sighed as she set down the fifteenth bomb next to its sisters and tugged her whiskers back into place. After all her hard work, she would take Morathi’s mind, strip the whore down to her skin, and then nap with her head pillowed by those ridiculous tits.
“Ugh.” She heard Morathi groan and glanced over.
The sorceress looked pale and was rubbing her face, as her perfectly manicured fingers came away, Irikit could see that the light behind her eyes had gone out once again.
“What… what am I…?”
Irikit leapt into action, darting across the room and grasping Morathi by the hips. “Careful, your Darkness, don’t breathe in the fumes for too long.”
“Gah, what… what happened?” the sorceress groaned weakly.
“You wanted to inspect the production.” Irikit said soothingly, massaging Morathi’s bare hips. “I did warn you not to go too close to the burners.”
“That stink is foul.”
“If you say so.” Irikit hummed, testing the soft meat of Morathi’s thighs, the fuckable flesh so warm to the touch. She knew it was a risk to grope the bitch so brazenly, but somehow now that Morathi’s senses had come back to her she just couldn’t resist. “Now, why don’t you go rest in your bed, hm?”
“Bed?”
“Yes, you look awfully tired, why don’t you go and sleep, relax… take care of yourself.” Irikit purred encouragingly, giving Morathi a gentle pat to the rump to push her towards the door.
“I… could rest… yes.” The sorceress nodded weakly, her cheeks blushing darker by the moment. Now that her mind was back, she was becoming fully aware of the lust the gas had enkindled inside her, and just as Irikit had programmed, her thoughts were turning to skaven. Disgusted by herself, and suddenly very uncomfortably aware of Irikit, the dark elf jumped away from the rat, blushing from head to toe. “Ah, yes, I will retire! To my chambers. Alone.”
“That sounds like a good idea, your darkness.” Irikit smiled. “Rest well.”
Morathi didn’t reply, hurrying out of the lab with her tits still exposed and her ass wobbling with every step.
-o-o-o-
Irikit could scent arousal on Morathi every time they met, but as the days went on the subtle aroma of masturbation grew into a thick, heavy stink. Other members of Morathi’s court had begun to take noticed, but simply put it down to her feeling better and putting her harem to good use, rather than frantically fistfucking her holes to the images of skaven dick.
Irikit had begun to grow bolder again, remembering how much fun she’d had with the gorgeous witch on her previous visits. She dosed the dark elf with gas whenever the opportunity presented itself, and just days after her prey had been nearly completely immune, Morathi was now teetering once again on the precipice of mindlessness.
The Skaven purred to herself and stretched in her seat, watching as Morathi avoided making eye contact, fresh of her latest session of shameful self-love.
The doors to the throne room swung open and Morathi’s aide appeared, narrowing her eyes at Irikit as the Skaven gave her a crooked grin. “The subjects have been gathered, your darkness.” she said, bowing low before straightening and shooting a sneer Irikit’s way. “Forgive my insolence, but can we trust this… beast, with such dangerous weapons near to you?”
“Irikit knows that if anything happens to me, her life will be forfeit immediately.” Morathi replied coolly, glancing down to the skaven below her for an instant and blushing as she immediately directed her attention elsewhere. “You have permission to kill her however you please should anything happen to me, at any time.”
“Very prudent your darkness.” Irikit smiled sweetly. “But after all my time here with you, don’t you think I would have tried something sinister if that was my true purpose?”
“I do not care to guess at the inner workings of you mind, rat.” Morathi grunted, shifting in her seat and waving to her aide to bring in the test subjects. “No doubt your thoughts are as vile as your body.”
“Oh no, your darkness.” Irikit purred seductively, circling her bulging pants with a teasing finger and not taking her eyes off Morathi’s. “Far more perverse.”
Morathi’s blush darkened another shade or two, and she swallowed, equal parts revolted and aroused by the implications, and by her ache to know each thought in depth.
She was saved from her own perversions and shame by her aide, who came through the doors again with ten local peasants all neatly bound and whimpering in terror. She smiled and crossed her legs to hide her arousal, tapping on one knee with her fingers as the prisoners were led up to the foot of her dais.
“My friends, how good of you to come visit.” She smiled, baring her fangs with delight. “I do apologise for the abrupt nature of the invite.”
“Let us go, witch!” one of the prisoners snapped, straining against her bonds, fury evident on her face. She was an older woman, still proud and beautiful, only changed by age in the best ways. She wore ragged clothes, clearly poor and overworked, but there was a dignity to her. Morathi liked her immediately.
“It’s not up to me, my dear woman.” Morathi gestured to Irikit, who waved cheerfully and lifted a bomb in her palm. “Irikit requires your help with her mission. Once she’s finished you’ll be returned home.”
Irikit twisted the top of the bomb and gently tossed it into the gaggle of prisoners. It burst as intended, and the smoke shrouded the crowd. Morathi raised a brow as the fog cleared and the prisoners were revealed, coughing and gagging, but apparently unharmed. The gas lingered in a fat, thick cloud on the ground, but didn’t fade entirely as she’d expected. She turned to the skaven who smiled and raised a single finger for patience.
“Wh… what was that?” the woman wheezed.
“Release them.” Irikit said to the aide, who nodded to the various guards watching closely throughout the room. One by one, the ropes and manacles binding the villagers were removed. “And arm them.” the skaven added.
“Your darkness?” the aide asked cautiously, Morathi nodded once, curious to see just what the rat had planned.
Knives were thrown down by the prisoner’s feet, quickly being snatched up by the group as they huddled close in terror. Each one of them was watching the guards, just waiting for them to draw their blades and end the charade. ‘At least we might take a few with us’ was the thought evident in each of their eyes, ‘but why?’
“Gentlemen, there’s no need for you to have weapons, so go ahead and hand them over to the ladies.” Irikit said slowly and clearly, perching on the arm of her chair and practically vibrating with excitement.
The villagers obeyed without question, handing their only defence to the three women of their group.
“Good boys. Ladies, kill them all, clean as you can.” Irikit grinned, mad with power. “I don’t want to make a mess of our host’s lovely throne room.”
The three women turned and plunged their knives into their friends and families, cutting them down with smiles on their faces and not a word of complaint. Irikit grinned cruelly as the test subjects feel to the floor, gasping and twitching as their friends, mothers, sisters… murdered them happily.
“Good girls, very good, now take off your clothes and come stand before your queen.”
The women smiled and obeyed. Irikit hummed with curious approval as her new slaves followed her command, untying their belts and shedding their tunics until they were presenting their nude bodies to her. She chuckled approvingly as the three walked towards her, nothing but lustful obedience in their eyes.
She admired them one by one. The older woman, the matriarch of the little group, looked even more delicious out of her clothes. Her plump, soft breasts bobbed as she walked, broad hips swaying and fat ass jiggling. She reminded Irikit of Morathi a little, but not quite so perfect, she was more lined, more plump, greyer altogether. Her body, nice as it was, couldn’t match the dark elf’s but that didn’t mean Irikit didn’t enjoy looking at it.
The next was a tall, gangly woman, younger than the first and certainly younger than she looked. She looked gaunt, with thin limbs and ribs showing through her skin. Her breasts were small, but her ass was tight and firm, remarkably full given her frame. She had a shock of blonde hair and lovely green eyes, still watering from inhaling so much gas. Her lip was quivering, not with fear, but with need, as shown by the sopping carpet of blonde curls between her legs.
The last was a younger girl, petite and toned. She had a round, pretty face and lovely red hair. Irikit supposed she might have been nineteen or twenty, despite her height, she was well-built, with muscular limbs and a toned belly. Her breasts were small, but she had broad hips and powerful thighs, like the woman beside her, she was trembling with need.
Morathi growled and stood up as she saw the three women kneel at Irikit’s feet. “I AM YOUR MISTRESS, NOT THAT BEAST!” She roared.
Irikit bowed contritely. “Apologies, your darkness, a simple misunderstanding. My pheromones are controlling their minds; thus they view me as their mistress. It’ll not be a problem for the real weapons, we’ll be using your pheromones to create the compound, so they’ll answer to you and you alone.”
Morathi deflated slightly, feeling a little foolish. “I see.” She said, sitting again. “I shall just have to command them through proxy. For now.”
“Very wise, your darkness.” Irikit smiled. “What do you command?”
Morathi pursed her lips and sighed. “I… will defer to your judgement, for now.”
“As you wish.” Irikit smiled. “Ladies, why don’t you tell us a little about yourselves?”
“My name is Ophelia Carrow.” The older woman said softly, “My son was the village butcher… did his death please you?”
“It certainly did.” Irikit beamed, giving Ophelia’s bust a hungry squeeze as she turned to the next. “And you?”
“I am Susan Brown.” The blonde smiled, “I like to fish in the river… may I please be your fucktoy? It’s been so long since anyone used me like I need.”
Irikit laughed and patted her cheek as she passed, stopping in front of the girl and raising an expectant brow. “And what about you, little slut?”
“My name is Odette Carrow.” The girl blushed, practically panting with need. “Nana killed my daddy before I could, I hope you’re not disappointed with me… all I want is for you to love me, to take me as your own… I can’t think about anything but… being your bride.”
“What do you think, your darkness?” Irikit purred, staring pointedly up at the frowning elf. “Every whore has their uses, don’t you think?”
Morathi blushed and squirmed uncomfortably before rising and stepping down level with the other. “I…” she said before pursing her lips. Irikit smiled and silently moved behind her, taking her by the hips and guiding her closer to the women, where the fog was still lingering on the ground. “I think…”
“Your darkness!” the aide yelped as Irikit pawed her. “Get away from her you beast!”
“It’s fine.” Irikit hissed into Morathi’s ear.
The witch blinked, knee deep in the pheromone gas and already completely under her rat Queen’s sway. “It’s fine!” she barked, echoing her mistress.
“I think this one should help with our experiments.” Irikit whispered, gently fingering Morathi’s asshole through her panties. “Perhaps she’ll survive, make an adequate lab assistant?”
“This one will be taken to be experimented on.” Morathi agreed, pointing to Susan who whimpered with arousal. “Take her to Irikit’s laboratory to await further trials.”
“These two… a fine pair… very pretty.” Irikit continued, angling Morathi towards the Carrows. The sorceress mewed as she felt herself be probed over and over again, the thin silk of her underwear only posing a tiny resistant to her Skaven lover’s industrious digits. “Grandmother and Granddaughter, they’d both make such good fuckslaves for your troops, don’t you think?”
“These two will be whores for the troops.” Morathi echoed loudly, pointing to the Carrows. “Guards, seize them and test their skill.”
The guards around the palace exchanged wary looks, some even turned to Morathi’s aide for instructions. Irikit curled her fingers inside Morathi’s asshole and the sorceress squeaked. “Obey Me!”
The guards obeyed, stepping into the lingering gas cloud and grabbing the surviving prisoners. Susan was taken and led away by two, disappearing towards Irikit’s dungeon, the other two were gently grabbed and groped by the remaining women.
“Your darkness, I must protest!” Morathi’s aide complained, “These guards are for you protection, what if the rat makes an attempt on your life and they are too distracted to aide you!?”
“I need no protection.” Morathi groaned, “Not from… my… my queen!”
“What!” the aide yelped, “Your darkness? What has happened to you!?”
“Guards, bring that bitch into the mist!” Irikit barked, pointing a talon at the aide who reached for her sword immediately. She squeaked in surprise as two of the guards grabbed her, smiling placidly as they turned back to their mistress, green light glowing behind their eyes. “Good girls, now bring her in, make her breathe deep.”
“Yes, my queen.” The guards said happily, dragging the aide kicking and screaming into the fog and throwing her down to the floor where it was thickest. The aide retched and choked for a moment, trying to crawl free of the corrupting smoke, only to fall weakly onto her face, gasping and drinking in the potent, mind-numbing musk.
“Well done ladies.” Irikit purred, giving Morathi’s ass a slap. “Now guards, you strip off and put these sluts to good use.”
“Yes, my queen.” The armoured women said in unison, reaching to begin unfastening their or their friends’ armoured plates.
As they stripped, Irikit led Morathi, still riding her fingers, to the Carrows and the wheezing aide. “You three are whores for my cow’s army. Ophelia, I bet you’ve got plenty of experience, so I want you to help sweet little Odette get nice and used to being a piece of fuckmeat.”
“Yes, my queen.” Ophelia smiled, moving behind her granddaughter and pushing her down to her knees. “Listen well, my sweet, our queen deserves the best.”
“Yes nana.” Odette replied, obediently opening her lips and allowing her grandmother to push her head down onto the nearest guard’s throbbing erection.
“Teach her everything you know; I expect her to be the best slut in the fortress by the time I’ve finished with this cow.” Irikit smiled, jerking her hand inside Morathi and making the witch quiver helplessly, knees turning inwards as Irikit forced more of her fist into her asshole.
“As for you.” Irikit snarled, kicking the aide onto her back. “You’re annoying, so you’re gonna go out and find the nastiest bunch of soldiers in the camp, and you’re going to show them a good time. You’re going to be the troops new morale officer, it’s your duty to whore yourself out to whoever wants you, whenever they want you, however they want you. You don’t speak unless ordered to, you don’t wear clothes unless directed to, you’ll eat whatever scraps are offered and sleep with the warbeasts in their kennels, am I clear?”
“Y… yess… my queen.” The Aide choked, tears streaming down her cheeks even as she tugged her bodice open and freed her plump elven tits. “I’m… a bitch… I’m a whore… I’m a pig… I’m filth… I’m scum…”
“That’s quite enough of that.” Irikit snapped, kicking her again. “Now off you go, before I lose my patience!”
“She… was loyal.” Morathi frowned, looking down at the Skaven currently fisting her.
“And now she’s even more loyal.” Irikit smirked, freeing her cock from her pants and sliding it against Morathi’s thick thigh. “Would a disloyal servant degrade themselves so completely and willingly?”
Morathi smiled, easily convinced, “No, my queen.”
“Of course not, now get down on all fours and take some nice deep breaths. I’ve gotta do something.” Irikit grinned, yanking her hand free of Morathi’s rosebud and taking her panties with it. Morathi whined at the sudden emptiness, but obediently knelt and began to drink in the gas, eyes watering as her mind returned to the state it had been in when Irikit had last left her: Utterly, stupidly, obediently horny.
By the time she forced herself to rise, desperate to breathe in real air, her eyes were glowing green and the sounds of sex were filling her court. The Carrows had been descended on by her guards, thirteen strong, ruthless dark elf futas relentlessly pounding the two poor villagers into cum-stuffed messes.
Ophelia was on her hands and knees, her fat backside split by two thick dark elf cocks plunging into her ruined asshole as a third pounded up into her sopping pussy. One hand was supporting her, the other was tangled in Odette’s hair.
Odette was in the lap of another guard, her ass stuffed full of cock and another prick being rammed into her formerly virgin cunt. Her head was resting against her grandmother’s chest. The girl was sobbing with mixed need and pain as she listened, red-faced, to Ophelia encouraging and advising her on how best to play the part of bitchmeat.
Both broken women were already slick with spit and sperm, the guards who hadn’t forced themselves into a welcoming hole busy stroking themselves off over the pair, waiting patiently to have their turn.
Morathi moaned and turned her head, searching for her mistress, only to see her lounging on her throne. she smiled and crawled towards her, pausing at the foot of the steps and sitting up, eagerly awaiting her commands.
“My queen?” she asked softly, “May I please you?”
“Take a drink.” Irikit smiled, gesturing to a gilded goblet waiting on the arm of the throne.
“Oh thank you my queen.” Morathi beamed, overcome with delight at her owner’s generosity. She climbed the steps quickly and clutched the goblet in both hands before bringing it to her lips and drinking. The contents were thick and salty and wonderfully familiar.
Morathi moaned happily to herself as she drank, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of Irikit’s virile seed. It tasted divine, like Irikit’s natural stench condensed and concentrated into a pure, potent slime. She pulled the goblet away and gasped for breath, skaven sperm smeared over her cheeks and dribbling down her chin. Irikit’s seed clung to the inside of the goblet, sticky and heavy enough that waiting for each drop to slide its way out would take an eternity. Without needing prompting, Morathi pushed her face into the goblet and began to lap every last trace of spunk from its cool metal embrace.
She heard Irikit chuckle above her and moaned happily, drinking in her owner’s essence before falling back, breathless and red with excitement. “Delicious.” She croaked. “So… yummy.”
She felt slender, taloned fingers crawl through her hair and mewed. Irikit had stripped nude as she breathed in the gas, her thin, wiry frame uncovered in all it’s grey, furry glory. Her cock, long and pink and pointed, was hard and throbbing in anticipation.
Irikit didn’t miss her favourite pet’s longing expression and smirked. “Stand up, cow. I’m going to make you work for your fun.”
Morathi obeyed, biting her lip as Irikit’s eyes wandered over her body. “Lean in close, bend forwards.”
“Yes my queen.” Morathi obeyed, tilting forwards so her massive backside was perfectly framed for the uncaring orgy below and her udders were hanging low under their own weight. Irikit ran a nail down her cheek before grabbing her ear and yanking her forwards. Morathi moaned, feeling her breasts press against Irikit’s knees as her owner’s mouth rushed towards her.
The kiss was wet and feral, Morathi’s dark lips smacking and slurping as Irikit’s tongue invaded her cheeks, coiling and writhing like a worm inside her. She moaned and tried to bring her own tongue upwards to join her mistress’, but Irikit had taken hold of her by the horns of her helmet, and suddenly her tongue was pressing down the sorceress’ throat.
Morathi gagged and spluttered weakly but refused to move. Her eyes watered as she felt Irikit’s lips press against her own over and over, each motion forcing her tongue in and out of her gullet. Morathi felt lucky that, unlike the two poor whores behind her, she had the privilege of being throatfucked by Irikit’s tongue, rather than her guard’s throbbing dicks.
Irikit pulled away and spat on Morathi’s lolling tongue, laughing as the sorceress immediately swallowed and smiled adoringly back at her. “Gods you were just born to be a whore, weren’t you?”
“Yes my queen… your whore.” Morathi beamed, enjoying Irikit’s hands groping and squeezing at her chest as she remained bent over in front of her. fingers took her nipples and tugged them downwards, teasing out the massive pale mounds of flesh as far as they would go before releasing them and sending each tit wobbling back into place.
“Strip.” Irikit said simply, leaning back in Morathi’s throne and taking her cock in hand. “Nice and slow.”
“Yes, my queen.” Morathi breathed, grinning from ear to ear. She stepped back to the edge of the raised platform that her throne rested on and began to sway her hips from side to side.
She started slow, with gentle, rolling motions, but before long her body was rolling and jiggling with every jerk of her hips and every swing of her tits. Her breastplate was the first thing to go, torn away and tossed overhead without a care, next her shoulder plates, each spiked half clattering down the steps as Morathi hungrily kneaded her own teats and twerked her colossal ass with need. Skilful talons undid each clasp of her waistband on her hips and at last Morathi was naked, feeling the cool air on her sizzling hot cunt. She plunged two fingers into herself and spread her petals wide, whining with need. “See how wet I am… my queen… see how needy I am… I can’t live without your delicious rat cock inside me!”
“Kneel.” Irikit replied, smiling as Morathi’s face twisted with frustration at her monosyllabic commands. She smacked the elf on each cheek with her cock before pressing against her plush lips. “Suck.”
Morathi mewed and obeyed, sliding her mouth down the first inch of Irikit’s pole. Her hands rose up to grasp her beloved’s cock, to stroke and massage it and milk it of all it’s potent nectar, but each hand was smacked aside.
“No.” Irikit growled, smirking down at the questioning look in Morathi’s big, wide eyes. “Use your face.”
Morathi mumbled obediently and vacuum sealed her lips around her mistress’ shaft, carefully placing her hands on the floor before beginning to force her head up and down the rat’s cock. It came as naturally as all the other outlandishly whorish acts she’d performed for her queen had, and soon she was passionately face-fucking herself on Irikit’s prick, gurgling and drooling all the while.
Spit oozed from her chin as she pressed her face up and down over and over and over again, dribbling from the point of her jaw onto her tits below, lubing them up for when Irikit next decided to play with them.
Bobbing up and down was easy enough, it was resisting the urge to disobey her owner and gorge herself on delicious skaven spunk however she could that was hard. Her fingers twitched on the floor, aching to reach up and take Irikit by the hips, press her to the base down Morathi’s throat, and milk her until she was dry. Her cunt spasmed and sopped, oozing a steady stream of Morathi’s arousal down her thighs and perfuming the air with her scent. By all the dark gods she worshipped, she craved to lie back, spread herself wide, and let Irikit pound a litter of rat pups into her ravenous womb.
Her frustration and longing were interrupted as Irikit suddenly grabbed her by the horns of her helmet and began to buck into her face.
“Gluck, gluck, gluck, gluck.” Was all Morathi managed to say as her tonsils were battered by Skaven cock, until a final “Gwuuuugh.” Bubbled out of her spit-shined lips as Irikit drained her balls down her gullet.
The sliding of Skaven cock out of her throat felt torturously slow, Morathi wished it could have stayed buried in her mouth forever. After an eternity, Irikit pulled free and Morathi began to splutter and choke as sperm overflowed her lips.
She coughed weakly and licked the escaping seed from her lips, turning her watering eyes up to her mistress. “Muh… more… please… my queen.”
“Ride me then, cow.” Irikit panted, spreading her legs and grunting as the massively thick elf leapt into her lap. “Oof!”
“Ugh!” Morathi moaned as she slammed her hips downwards and impaled herself on Irikit’s pole, driving herself down to the slender rat’s hips in one stroke. “My queen… use me… bounce me… abuse me.”
“Shut up cow.” Irikit snarled, taking a massive tit in both hands and hoisting it up to her mouth. Morathi giggled and began to roll her hips, making sure every last inch of her starving cunt got it’s turn at being pleasured by skaven dick. She gasped as Irikit bit down on her nipple, and gently cradled her owner’s head against her as Irikit chewed on the little sensitive pebble of flesh.
Each rise and fall sent shockwaves rolling through the pliant flesh of Morathi’s immense ass, the slapping and clapping like a war drum echoing through the high-roofed chamber of her own throne room. Even over the din of the Carrows being used, the smack of Morathi’s ass hard at work carried throughout the halls of the fortress.
Irikit’s tongue swirled and coiled like a worm around Morathi’s nipple as she bit and sucked and pulled on the poor sore nub. Morathi whined, but didn’t complain, even as Irikit’s fangs drew blood by biting just a little too hard into her soft, welcoming flesh. Soon enough, one fat breast was red and worn, and Irikit turned her menaces onto the other, leaving toothmarks, scratches and spit behind her as she went.
Irikit had always been a runt, but squashed beneath the almost comically thick frame of Morathi she looked truly tiny, gnawing away at a nipple like a particularly unfortunate baby, whiskers vibrating with excitement like a mouse scenting cheese. It wasn’t too far from the truth, Skaven had an innate lust for corruption, and Irikit was slaking her thirst royally.
“Ohhhhhh.” Morathi howled, squeezing Irikit between her udders as she shook and convulsed, back arching as yet another thick skaven load was jetted into her body. She trembled as cum overflowed her cunt, biting her lip hard enough to taste blood before looking down to her owner yet again for commands.
Irikit was largely unpredictable, but Morathi finally remembered the most interesting thing she’d learned over the many nights of defilement locked away in her memory. Irikit hated to be bored. After every load sprayed into, or onto, her body, Irikit would move her into a new position and try a new depravity. So to be the best possible whore she could be, she needed to anticipate her mistress’ desires.
“My queen… what now?” she panted. “How do you want to fuck me, to use me? How can I pleasure you, my goddess?”
Irikit grinned, swiping some sweat from her brow and admiring Morathi’s sweat-licked udders. “I think I’ve waited long enough, it’s time to enjoy that fat ass of yours.”
“Oh, yes my queen!” Morathi gasped with delight, replacing Irikit on her throne as the slender skaven hopped off and waved her forwards. She knelt on the soft, warm leather and twerked her ass invitingly, hands kneading her doughy flesh and spreading her mighty cheeks for Irikit to see. “I love how you treat my arse, my queen… how you beat and squeeze and fuck it raw.”
“Hmmmmm, how could I resist?” Irikit ran her palms over Morathi’s glistening assmeat, delighting in the softness of her flesh as it swallowed up her fingers like bread dough. “An ass like this was meant for fucking.”
“Only by you… my queen.” Morathi promised. “My arse is yours… your fuckhole… your cumdump, no one else may touch it but you.”
“Damn right.” Irikit growled before diving forwards and submerging her face between Morathi’s massive cheeks. Her pointed snout found Morathi’s pucker and her tongue rammed inside, swirling and coiling in the wonderfully familiar cavern of the sorceress’ rectum.
Morathi’s mewls and gasps of bliss were muffled by the heavy pads of assmeat pressing down on Irikit’s ears, but the Skaven didn’t much care. Morathi’s pleasure came second to her own, and she was having the time of her life burying herself in this godly ass.
Her fingers dug into Morathi’s flesh more, pawing at her like a kitten on a blanket, sliding her tongue deeper and deeper into the nooks and crannies of Morathi’s insides until finally her tongue couldn’t reach any further.
She groaned and devoured Morathi’s asshole for what felt like an eternity, hands squeezing and smacking at the huge cheeks to either side of her head. A perfect ass, being perfectly perverted by a skaven into nothing more than a fuckhole.
Irikit let out a growl and loosed one hand from Morathi’s quivering rump, bringing it down to beneath her chin and rubbing away at the sorceress’ cunt. The squeals and howls of lust that came rushing out of Morathi’s mouth were loud and shrill enough to be easily heard even through the thick padding of flesh covering Irikit’s ears, and she laughed to herself, before pulling back and gasping for air.
Morathi’s hole winked and twitched eagerly before her, seeming to plead for her to return to it’s warm, tight embrace. The Skaven smirked and grasped her throbbing cock. “Get up cow.”
Morathi whimpered, but obeyed, standing up on the throne and towering over Irikit’s head.
“Now spread your legs wide and get down on the throne. I want a full split, you understand?”
“Yuh… yes my queen.” Morathi moaned, awkwardly lowering herself down until she was in the desired position. “Like this?”
There was no response from the awestruck Irikit, who felt like she was seeing Morathi’s ass for the first time all over again. From this position her ginormous glutes looked twice the size as before, her thighs seemed even thicker, and she was so perfectly helpless to resist as…
“Gwah!” Morathi squealed as Irikit pounced onto her and rammed the entirety of her length into her asshole in on vicious jerk. “My queen… so big… so hard… you’ll break meee!”
“Shut it!” Irikit grunted, sinking her nails into Morathi’s ass once again and setting to work. Before long the hammering of slender skaven hips into an impossibly fat elven ass was echoing off the walls.
“Oh gawwwds.” Morathi sobbed, unable to contain herself as she was stretched out yet again by Irikit’s pole. It had been long enough since her last sodomising that her asshole had mostly recovered and tightened, but that just meant it was perfect for Irikit to ruin again. “More!”
“I said, shut it!” Irikit roared, grabbing some sweaty hair with a fist and yanking Morathi’s head back with it like a leash. “Stupid… slutty… sow!”
Morathi’s moans and groans didn’t stop, but the lack of even a vague attempt at words satisfied Irikit, letting her focus on what was important.
“You… were… made… for… this!” she hissed, blowing yet another load deep into the Sorceress’ bowels. “You were… born… to serve… me!”
Morathi only gurgled, her tongue lolling and eyes rolled back as Irikit forced herself balls-deep into her ass and pounded her harder and harder by the second. Within minutes Morathi’s cheeks were red from the impacts of Skaven hips, by the end of a half hour the sorceress was unintelligibly drooling onto her abused tits.
Irikit didn’t stop, she didn’t slow. She just pounded, and pounded, and pounded. Load after load after load gushed into Morathi’s sperm-packed guts until the sorceress’ belly began to bloat from the sheer volume.
At the end of an hour the slapping of Morathi’s ass as it was brutally fucked finally began to slow down. The elf was unconscious, head limp in Irikit’s grasp, her eyes rolled all the way back in her skull as she drooled down her front. Her ass was beet red and glowing with warmth, shiny from spit and sweat and sperm.
Irikit was bedraggled to say the least, drenched with sweat and even more unkempt than usual. Her whiskers stood out at odd angles and one ear had been pulled inside out by an overeager spelunking trip into Morathi’s hole. she wheezed for breath and delivered one last smack to Morathi’s rump before pulling out.
It was harder than she’d expected, her own exhaustion teaming up with Morathi’s still clenching asshole to keep her inside no matter what. Finally, with both hands pushing on the witch’s ass for leverage, she popped herself free and staggered back.
Cum erupted from Morathi’s gaping pucker, sloshing out of her and splattering the ground. It seemed to pump out of her with every heartbeat, a steady rhythmic gush of seed, until at last the sorceress’ guts had deflated enough.
Irikit untangled her fist from Morathi’s matted hair and gave the broken elf a gentle tug. Utterly limp, Morathi tilted and fell ass over head onto the dais with a splat.
She moaned weakly before a gentle kick from Irikit sent her rolling down the stairs, coming to a sticky, wobbling stop on the floor at the bottom. Irikit fell back onto Morathi’s throne, thoroughly spent.
“Gods… I’ll never get bored of that.”
Below, the gangbang of the Carrows had come to an end. The broken pair of freshly made whores lying in a sticky puddle at the feet of the guards who were watching patiently for their queen to finish.
“Good work girls.” Irikit said hoarsely, smiling. “Er, you two, go drag the sluts out to the camp outside. Tell the soldiers to scrub them down and put them to work.”
“Yes, my queen.” The guards she’d pointed to smiled.
Irikit’s eyes wandered down to Morathi and the copious amounts of cum oozing from her abused hole. She had a sudden epiphany, her sperm was full of the exact kind of pheromones she needed to make the gas, and with so much of it on hand, she could put it to good use!
“The rest of you, I want every drop of cum drained out of her and brought to the lab, a single drop should be enough to make a full batch of gas.” Irikit grinned, jerking a thumb towards Morathi’s leaking rosebud. “I want enough to dose everyone in the fortress by the end of the week, got it?”
“Yes, my queen.” The guards smiled in chorus, advancing on their unconscious former mistress.
Irikit smiled and lay down on Morathi’s throne. She would have a proper night’s rest on Morathi’s ass later, but for now a quick rat-nap in her pet’s throne was exactly what she needed.
If everything went right, and hey, maybe they would for once, she would soon be in total control of not just Morathi, but the entire fortress and everyone in it. She cackled evilly to herself, imagining all the wicked things she could do with an army, not to mention all the women who served in and around it.
Two months ago she’d been a frustrated virgin unable to so much as touch any female of her own clan, now she had her pick of whores to drain herself into. Who knew, maybe one day she’d get around to siring a few litters of her own. Set up her own damn dynasty. Make herself a proper Rat Queen.
She chuckled sleepily and closed her eyes.
Maybe one day, for now, creampieing Morathi’s fat ass was all she needed.
-o-o-o-
The Dark Sorceress Morathi was cumming.
She did that a lot ever since Irikit had decided to stay in her court. It seemed every waking hour she wasn’t sleeping or masturbating to the thought of being defiled by skaven, she was being toyed with by Irikit.
She never remembered the little sessions with the rat, a pheromone-induced haze clouding her mind whenever Irikit wanted to play with her. In her mind the blank spots in her memory were filled with yet more shameful fantasies of skaven subjugation.
Morathi’s glowing green eyes rolled back in her head as Irikit’s fingers pumped into her, driving her closer and closer to orgasm by the second. Her guards, dutiful as ever, ignored the lewd display as if it weren’t happening. It was only when the doors to the throne room swung open that anyone took notice of anything odd.
“Mmmmisstress.” The warped creature that had once been Susan Brown wheezed, staggering into the throne room. “A visssitor for you.”
Irikit glance up just in time to see the green light flicker and fade from Morathi’s eyes and instantly withdrew her hands. She shuffled just far enough away from the corrupted sorceress as to not be immediately noticed. Morathi’s mind was pitiful compared to what it had once been, but she was still smart enough and dangerous enough to put two and two together given enough obvious evidence.
“Wh… what is it?” Morathi asked, breathless.
“A visssitor.” Susan smiled, showing yellowed fangs. “To sssee you, and to ssssseee Irrrrikit.”
Morathi was instantly defensive, reaching out and grasping Irikit’s thigh without noticing. “Why?”
“Forgive the intrusion.” A voice said from the darkness. “But I’d rather explain myself than allow this… thing, to butcher my messages.”
Out of a shadow, a woman stepped into the room, just as if she’d been stepping out of a pool of water. She was pale and tall, paper-white skin and silver hair almost glowing in the low candlelight. Her dress was a rich red but parted at the front to show intricate and ornamental black armour. The rest of the woman’s outfit was as contradictory, her breastplate was strong metal, but ended low on her buxom chest more like a corset, pushing her plump tits forwards and offering no protection. Seemingly attached to nothing at all, was a tall collar that ended in points all around the back of the woman’s head. The woman’s hips were ridiculously broad, easily a full metre across and only accentuated by the corset/breastplate’s cinching of the stranger’s slender waist. The woman’s glowing blue eyes stood out against her pearly complexion, the only colour other than red, black and gold aside from the very pale blonde hair done up in an intricate braided bun.
“I am Countess Isabella von Carstein, and I would offer you a bargain.” She said with a cold sneer.
“I don’t often entertain vampires.” Morathi hummed suspiciously. “What do you want?”
“That.” Isabella replied, pointing a perfectly manicured nail at Irikit.
“No.” Morathi said in an instant. “She must stay with me!”
“Why?” the countess frowned, tilting her head quizzically, “You’ve not heard my offer yet, what does this rat have that is of such… value?”
“She… I…” Morathi floundered, honestly unable to come up with a logical reason for why she so desperately wanted Irikit to be close to her at all times. She stood up and scowled. “Tell me of this damned bargain then.”
“Tale of your Moulder Warbeasts has travelled far and wide.” The countess sighed disinterestedly. “I have need of some disposable weapons, the local prey has become a little to organised of late, I require some chaotic elements to break up their little gangs.”
“Why not go to Moulder?”
“Because the less of those repulsive Vermin I must lay eyes on the better.” Isabella snarled. “Bad enough this one is here; I refuse to set foot anywhere home to hundreds of the beasts.”
“I certainly sympathise.” Morathi nodded slowly, “So, you wish to take Irikit and have her make you weapons as she did for me. Why should I allow this?”
“Why not?” Isabella sighed. “Our peoples have never been enemies, even if we have never been allies either. Surely chaos is motive enough for one such as you? I fail to see why you are so reticent to part with this… creature.”
“She… is valuable to me.” Morathi blushed.
“Very well, I’ll have ten times her weight in gold delivered to your gates by morning.” The countess said shortly. “That should compensate you for the temporary loss of your pet, rest assured the second she’s completed her work I shall be sending her as far away from me as possible. You’re more than welcome to take her back.”
“I… I don’t.” Morathi whined, still fighting for a reason to keep Irikit at her side beyond the perverted thoughts creeping through her mind.
“I’d love to go.” Irikit grinned, standing and stroking a hand over Morathi’s nearest tit. “It’ll be… educational.”
Morathi’s eyes widened in horror, and she looked up at the skaven pleadingly. “Never you fear, your darkness. I’ll be back. Just keep taking your medicine and make sure ‘your’ plans are all going smoothly.” The rat purred, spraying a mist of green smoke into her face as she passed.
“But…”
It was too late, Irikit had scampered down the steps to meet Isabella, eyes alight with mischievous lust. As Isabella turned and walked away, Morathi could see Irikit’s eyes drinking in the monstrous swell of the vampire’s immense ass and the bobbing of her fat undead tits. Apparently it was lust more than anything that had taken her beloved skaven away from her.
“I suppose I should thank you, skaven.” Isabella said as the pair stepped through the doors to the throne room. “Few living creatures would willingly travel with a vampire, let alone one such as I.”
“Oh please.” Morathi heard Irikit purr. “How could I resist?”
