Warp Token 2 Bonus Scene (Patreon)

About 13k bonus words into a bonus scene for Warp Token 2, I hope you all enjoy.

Will fuse this into the tier 3/4 patreon ebook version tomorrow.

***

Roderick nursed his cup, sipping at the last of his wine as he frowned at the maps scattered over the desk. Night had descended, shafts of moonlight filtering through the stained-glass windows, the office lit by the errant flame of an overhanging candelabra. He’d been poring over the finer details of the attack until his eyes had hurt, but even then he had not been satisfied until every last little details was ironclad.

It was one of his more desperate plans he had to admit, the risks only matched by the uniqueness of the situation. Von Kessel had been right about a few things. Their enemy had the numbers, the support, and the firepower to obliterate their band if given the chance. Open confrontation would be suicide, so there had to be avenues to chip the main Chaos host into smaller, manageable pieces. But the timing would have to be perfect, and the coordination needed was only possible with the help of the volatile Skaven far-squeakers. If they deteriorated on the field of battle, or Gods forbid, injure anyone tasked with carrying them, the plan would be in jeopardy. Some would call that a fools errand, but it was the only thing Roderick had come up with. If they wanted even a slim chance at success, they had to use everything they had, Skaven technology included.

Dawn would mark the day he had prayed, and dreaded for a long time. His return the Empire was at hand. And yet, there was still many hours until the time to march. The prelude to war had never settled right with him.  In the past, he had oft found himself needing a distraction to occupy his thoughts. Going over his battle strategies wasn’t doing him any favours with that.

The rest of the band had the same thought. He could hear the bustle of the tavern even from here, the humble tunes of a plucked note ringing out as a murmuring crowd flowed down the streets. A proper drink would be just the thing he needed, but having their new commander knocking back ale would not be good for morale. This wasn’t to mention how, joining the sailors now left a bad feeling in his gut.

Lothar’s visit was no doubt a heated discussion among the men. Not just by the sailors, but the Brettonians and orcs as well. They’d want to ask questions, get details, but he didn’t have the patience for all that.

So it was here, in the Governor’s study, he stewed with his own troubled thoughts. Even then he wasn’t so secluded.  One of the maids came to refill his cup every now and then, but he’d not seen her for a while now. Perhaps she’d retired to her quarters. Roderick should do the same, but rest had never come easy since the shipwreck, he doubted that would change now.

He turned towards one of the windows and opened it, letting the cool night breeze ruffle his long hair. A few tents had been pitched in the street beyond, a group of sailors hunkered round a campfire where an animal carcass roasted over the spit. Had they heard of his encounter with Lothar? Were they talking about it right this moment?

He wanted to know what they made of it. No, he needed to know. If any man was second-guessing him, they were a risk to themselves, and to their comrades. He had garnered a steady reputation with most of the sailors, it was the only reason the majority had not protested when he’d assumed command. If he’d tarnished it by striking an Imperial officer, he needed to know how much damage had been done. Who he could trust.

His glove wrapped around the relic strapped to his belt, and he held it up so the moonlight cast its pale glow across its sandstone haft. How simple it had been to slip into the Captain’s mind, put him into that hypnotic state where only his voice was truth. He hadn’t personally checked on Von Kessel’s condition, but Skyseeker had put her Skaven in places where whipsers and secrets were easy to take, and he was troubled when they brought him answers.

He was bed-ridden, as though he’d caught the plague, his temperature soaring even as his skin was ice-cold. He barely managed a few words after several hours’ of sleep, and barely ate a thing. Lothar was telling the truth. And it worked perfectly for Roderick’s cover story, perhaps a little too well. Was this what Wilfred had warned him about? All he had wanted was to keep the crew focused on the mission. He had never wanted the Captain to come to harm, but it didn’t seem like he would survive this sudden sickness.

He’d rushed into it. He should have practiced more, and now he’d made a critical mistake. His old friend would have understood…. wouldn’t he? It had been his last remaining course of action, if that damned warlord had not killed Wilfred and put so much fear into the Captain, he would have never needed to use the relic.

And yet, it seemed he would have to use the Warp once again. He had to know who was with him, and who wasn’t. But would he only cause more harm than good? If more sailors started to get sick because of his thought-manipulation, people would get suspicious. Not of Roderick, but they would begin to think a strange disease had afflicted the crew. People would demand they stop, seek medical aid. More delays. They couldn’t afford that.

He let the relic rest on the sill, slumping into the chair to ran a hand over his face. It was too risky. He could not put another man through what he’d done to Von Kessel. It was too dangerous. A man’s thoughts were his own, and he’d promised himself this would start and end with Von Kessel. It felt like drawing the line now was much too late, and it didn’t make him feel much better anyway, but just like his plan to relieve Marienberg, it was the best he could formulate with the time he had left.

He heard a door open somewhere in the hall. Perhaps it was the maid, returning to fill his wine. All to the good, maybe another goblet of Westerland Red would see him to his bed.

The footsteps were moving this way, far heavier than he’d remembered, the maid wore slippers and had a measured gait indicitant of servitude. The thumps were more numerous as well. Two maids, perhaps? The manor had five total servants last he checked. He didn’t have to wait long until he heard their voices.

“-But Skaven still doesn’t get it! How they so milky white?”

“I’ve told ya three times already. Clean the shite outta yer ears and listen for once. Slather on some toofpaste twice a day, once when ya wake up, another before bed. That’s really all there is to it.”

“Some what-paste?”

“It’s this powdery remedy mixed in with mints and sages. Down it with some water – don’t drink it – then rinse out your teef with it. Gotta really get in there to make sure ya don’t leave no plaque behind.”

“Did… Did you really call it T-Toofpaste…?” There was a snorting sound. “Ha! Hahaha!! You sound like a real dumb idiot-head when you say that. It’s pronounced Teeth, green-bean.”

“That’s what I said! Toofpaste!”

“Oh, hehe! Skaven will not get sick of this! Keep chittering, beanstalk, you make my night so fun-fun! That is suuuuuch a thigh-slapper!”

“Like you’re one to talk. Always saying me-me and yes-yes all the time, like we didn’t hear you blah-blah-blah-ing the first time. Why ya gotta say everything twice?”

“Repetition ensures attention! Repetition ensures attention!”

Skyseeker barged into the study without so much as a knock, Mazkha ducking in after her, the orc so tall she had to crouch to fit through the frame, and even then it was a squeeze.  Seeing them together surprised Roderick. He’d felt like they’d come almost to blows back at the Keg, and the three of them together again made him cautious.

“Evening Skyseeker, Mazkha. What are you lasses up to?” Roderick asked, shifting in his seat.

“Hey man-thing,” Skyseeker chimed. She rounded the desk, giving him a peck on the cheek in greeting. “Skaven just got done walloping green-bean over there. She looks big, but she’s just fat. You should see how it ripples when you hit it, it’s like pond surface!”

“I remember it going down a lil’ differently than that,” Mazkha replied, narrowing her eyes. “Ya talk a lot of shit, but the second someone challenges ya, you start runnin’ in circles like yer tail’s on fire.”

“It’s called tactical retreat,” Skyseeker scoffed. “And I hit you five times compared to your two. By Skaven’s masterful arithmetics, that means I’m better.”

“Were you two fighting?” Roderick asked, tilting his head. He noticed they both had a few scratches and bruises on their arms and stomachs.

“Relax, little knight,” Mazkha laughed. “It was just a bit of a scrape. We were honin’ our skills.”

“Says you,” Skyseeker added. “Skaven takes all training very seriously. Needless to say, I won-won.”

“If I really wanted to kill you, rat, you’d know it.”

“Well, I am… glad to see you two getting along?” Roderick struggled not to phrase it like a question. The two women didn’t seem to be entirely hostile to eachother, at the least.

“So what you up to, man-thing?” Skyseeker asked him. She scooted closer, clambering onto the armrest of his chair, her furry torso pressing against his arm as she jutted her snout to get a look at the parchments.

“Going over the finer details of the attack tomorrow,” he explained.

“Still?” Mazkha asked. “Our meetin’ ended hours ago. Don’t your eyes hurt?”

They did, but he shook his head no. “There are a lot of moving pieces and it all must go smoothly,” he said. “We cannot afford any room for error.”

“Fat chance of that. If you’ve already been over it for the last five hours, what’s gonna change in the next five? Unless ya want to do a complete overhaul, nothin’s gonna change now.”

“It behoves me to say this, but green-bean has a point,” Skyseeker added, sneaking her hand into his, lifting it away from the parchment he was holding. “You need nap, Rick-Rod. The Sigmar-man knows I can go for rat-nap after fighting this overgrown breeder.”

“So I did give ya a run for ya money, if you’re tired,” Mazkha laughed, Skyseeker shooting her a frown.

“Tired of YOU, maybe. Come on man-thing let’s get out of here, plans aren’t going anywhere and they just distracting you- WAIT is that ALE?”

She scooped up his goblet, peering into the rim before taking a hearty gulp.

“Wine,” he corrected, but he didn’t think whatever he’d said at that moment would be heard, the rat smacking her lips as she blinked her eyes thoughtfully.

“Fruity! And tangy, too. This from the Mayor’s vintage? Taste like it. Got any more?”

He gestured to the pitcher the maid had left on the table a short while ago, and she refilled his cup, but not for Roderick’s benefit. While she was distracted with that, Mazkha sauntered over on her huge legs, placing a giant hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve seen you plan out our journey from Lyonesse to here,” Mazkha said, moving to stand behind him. “You got us through that in one piece. You’ll get us through the siege as well. And we all know once a fight starts a plan goes to shite regardless, and that just can’t be helped, can it?”

“I suppose you have a point,” he conceded.

“You just need to loosen up,” she said. He blinked when she lowered to her knees, bringing her lips within an inch of his ear. “Relax, get your mind focused on something else. Or maybe someone else, eh?”

His heart fluttered as her hand slid over his shoudler, gently gripping him by the cheek as she turned his head. She wasn’t being forceful, but she didn’t leave him much choice but to bring his face closer to hers. Her lips were so thick and exaggerated, and carried on her breath was a strange, minty fragrance he hadn’t noticed before. Hadn’t she said something about cleaning her teeth earlier?

“WOAH WOAH WOAAAH!” Skyseeker squeaked. She seemed to teleport from the desk to the chair, Roderick flinching in surprise when she used her skull to push them apart. “What’s all this? Porky you’re putting your mangy, dirty green paws on MY man-thing??!! How dare thee!”

“Well, you were too occupied with your cup to pay him much mind,” Mazkha scoffed. She combed his hair with a finger idly. “Poor little knight’s so awfully worried, someone had to comfort him.”

“I was making my way over to comfort!” Skyseeker protested. “Was just… a little thirsty, that’s all.”

“You drank an entire barrel of water after we sparred.”

“SKAVEN HAS TO STAY HYDRATED! AND WATER’S NOT SWEET, TASTY ALE, IS IT? STUPID HEAD!”

“It’s alright, lass, calm down,” Roderick interjected. “Mazkha, I’m sure your intentions were well-meaning, and I appreciate the gesture, but perhaps now isn’t the best of times. I have much to go over before the march, and-”

“Hey, your not the only one’s who’s stressed out, little knight,” Mazkha shot back. “If the plan goes to shite tomorrow, we’re all likely to wind up dead, and we’re goin’ against some long odds here. That ain’t me complain’, of coruse, I’m gonna take as many Chaos boys with me if it comes to it. But come on, how isn’t now the best of times? If this is gonna be my last night on this here world, there’s not gonna be another chance to make the most of it, right?”

Not even Skyseeker had a comeback for that one. Perhaps she was right. Roderick was looking for something to take his mind off things, even for a short while. He wasn’t a fool, he knew exactly what Mazkha was suggesting, but  even entertaining the thought left a knot in his stomach. He cared for Mazkha and Skyseeker both, though deep down, he was biased towards the Skaven, and judging by her reaction, Skyseeker wasn’t pleased about the orc making such insinuations.

“Can’t you find your own man-thing?” Skyseeker complained, wrapping her hands over his arm possessively. “This one is taken. Sprayed him with musk and everything.”

“I’ve tried, believe me,” Mazkha said. “But the knights are so prissy and modest, and the sailors? Meh. Now, little Roderick here, now he’s the only one with some proper guts. Plus, he and I have had a few heart to heart chats, while you were busy escaping prisons and crossing mountains, rodent. Ain’t met any humie quite like him. It’s no wonder ya picked him.”

“I do have good taste of man-things,” Skyseeker relented. “Well, MOST of time. AHEMKessel-manAHEM.” She made a poor show of covering her mouth when she said the Captain’s name. “But if you think you can just take Rick-Rod from under my whiskers, you got another thing coming Mazda, or however you say your name.”

“Who said anythin’ about taking?” Mazkha asked. Her nail pricked his scalp at just the right pressure. Roderick couldn’t find it in himself to ask her to stop as she combed his hair. “As entertainin’ as it would be, I’m not gonna step on your tail. I don’t have to. Our little humie’s made it his mission he wants to understand me deeply. Who would I be to say no to getting to know him better too?”

“And how many man-things have you breeded?” Skyseeker asked, smirking. “Yeah that’s what Skaven thought. You want distractioning, Rick-Rod?” she demanded. “Well how’s THIS for distractioning?”

Without warning she shoved half into his lap, her soft little body pressing up against him. There was no room for her in the seat, so she just piled herself onto his thighs, straddling him, her long cloak draping over his knees. Her hands were already working on his belt, gripping his crotch through his breeches with a suggestive cackle of encouragement when she felt him swelling.

He ran his hands down her furry arms, his fingers following the subtle curves of her springy body, her modest muscles hidden behind her fuzzy coat. Her pink ears twitched when he traced her breasts through the slings that preserved her modesty, the belts so thin they did a poor job of hiding the perfect handfuls of her bosom.

She pulled down his breeches, his member catching on his loincloth as she set that aside to. Her soft hand slipped around it, a few slow pumps all it took to get him hard as a rock, Roderick sighing as he leaned back, enjoying her attentions.

“Green-bean see that?” Skyseeker chortled. “I know aaallllll the right buttons to push.”

“Anyone can get a boy rearin’ to go,” Mazkha scoffed from nearby. It was odd to have his lover talking to someone so casually while his cock was out, but it seemed Skyseeker was trying to prove a point. “Landin’ first hit doesn’t decide the fight, as we say in the Warrrgh.”

“YAWWWN! That sounds like the attitude of a bunch of LOSERS. Of course first hit counts! But Skaven can do the second hit, and the third, AND the fourth! You watch and see-see.”

She lowered a hand to her nethers, pulling aside her loincloth so it bundled into the crease of her thigh, exposing a tantalizing sliver of pink surrounded by black fur.

She wasn’t beating around the bush, angling her hips towards him, Roderick tensing up as her loins neared, but she didn’t let him enter her. Instead, she lowered onto his length from above, as though using her entrance to plant a wet kiss on his rod. She ground against him, the Skaven biting her lip as she relished in all the ridges and bumps on his sex, letting slip a small mewl. She seemed to realise she’d let it out, covering her snout with a hand, but it was too late for that.

“What was that little squeak?” Mazkha laughed. “Sounded like a mouse getting’ stepped on.”

“Don’t you dare compare Skaven to such VILE creature,” Skyseeker snapped. “I will stab you in the brain if you do that again, you walking cabbage.”

“W-What’s wrong with mice?” Roderick asked, struggling to concentrate with Skaven pussy suckling on him in long, pleasing shifts as her athletic hips rolled.

“Rick-Rod, Rick-Rod, Rick-rod, everyone knows what’s wrong with mouses. Those stupid big ears, the little beady eyes, the DIS-GUS-TING.” She dragged that word out an extra syllable. “-fleshy tails. Euughh!”

“You have all those qualities and more,” Mazkha pointed out.

“Did anyone ask you?” Skyseeker said. On her next grind, she stretched it out until her lips caught on his glans, Skyseeker shifting her hips. Like a fish caught on a hook, she pushed down, her vulva splaying as he entered her in a sudden contraction. He shivered, her warmth and wetness sealing him in as she shoved down his length, her lips parting as she gasped, his flared midsection giving her a literal pause.

It felt like her vent was refusing to let him inside, swirling and pushing back, Roderick’s mind blanking with pleasure. Skyseeker let her weight force him the rest of way, a popping sensation followed by a stretch as her lips kissed his base.

“I’m surprised that didn’t up and kill ya,” Mazka marvelled. Her tone was aloof, but she was staring at their coupling with an interested expression, and she never blinked throughout.

“Stupid d-damned… Oooooh Skaven help me that’s good… stupid commentator over here-here,” Skyseeker grumbled, shifting on his lap, Roderick’s eyes glossing over as her insides swirled. “Shut your hole w-hile Skaveeeeeeen Rick-Rod stop move-moving ooohh! Skaven is t-trying to concentrations.”

She lifted her hips, flexing her slim core as she arched her spine. It was like an invisible hand was keeping her down, the ratwoman straining to rise off him. Inches of his length, glistening with her rat nectar, eased out of her clinging grip, a wonderful pressure causing him to see stars. A groan slipped from his throat, and out of the corner of his vision he saw Mazkha smirk at him, and a blush filled his cheeks. She saw that too, which just made it all the much worse, embarrassment swelling with his lust.

“N-Now green-bean,” Skyseeker gasped, shivering as she plunged him back inside her. “Watch a master Skaven at work. I l-like to call this, Skaven Speed.”

She increased her pace, letting her soft cheeks slap heavily against his thighs as she began to rut. Only her bottom half was in motion, her upper torso remaining rigid as Skyseeker bit her lip, all her concentration focused on hammering him in and out of her. Her tail coiled over one of his legs, contricting like a snake as she used it to keep her balance. He could hear the chair creaking with each downward motion, her breath washing over him as she panted like a little steam engine.

She was riding him like an animal, no grace or poise about her, letting the pure desire to breed take over her faculties. Unlike him, she was unashamed of their orc spectator. Quite the opposite in fact. He could see her steal glances at Mazkha every so often, her buckteeth flashing in a smirk, as though the purposes of this show weren’t just for his benefit alone.

While her pace was wild, her proclivities all but vanished, he was getting frustrated. She could keep up her desperate speed, but she was far smaller than him, and their anatomy meant she couldn’t increase their coupling beyond a certain limit. He wanted more, he needed more, even if she was trying her utmost.

He reached out to take her ass into his hands, the meat of her rump making a clapping sound as he gripped them. She yipped cutely, whining when he began to pull when she pushed, and pushed when she pulled. Her muscular thighs flexed to accommodate his thrusts, her knees bent at upward angles as she devoted all her attention on slamming her waist to his. She was still wearing her goggles, but he could tell from her expression she was shutting them tight, trying to block out the sensations and prolong the bliss.

She’d wanted to be on top, in control, but Roderick had reached his limit, his lust taking over. The chair creaked one final time as he rose, taking care to keep Skyseeker pressed to his chest so she didn’t fall. She gripped him like a startled monkey, her tail winding over his leg, Roderick able to feel the cool flesh of her nipples press against his belly.

He leaned over to sweep away the desk, battle plans and scouting reports scattering, laying Skyseeker down on the varnished wood. She peered up at him, her hood fluttering around her ears as she tilted her head, giving him a look somewhere between a scowl and a smirk.

“S-Skaven wanted to be on top,” she protested. But when he took leverage on her hips and slammed into her, her arguments ceased, and she mewled under her breath as he penetrated her. At this angle he could get far deeper, her belly practically bloating when he hilted inside her, her walls melting around him as they confirmed to his shape.

He ran a hand down the chubby flesh of her inner thigh, admiring the furred creases of her wide hips, how they pinched into her slimmer torso. He found the spot where her secondary nipples protruded, far smaller and better hidden within her coal-black fur, but he’d memorized their location. He gave one a little squeeze then the other, and the Skaven threw back her head and groaned like she’d been shot.

“I thought you were the one doin’ the button pushinl, little rat,” Mazka scoffed. He saw that she’d picked up the wine pitcher and was sipping at it, as though she was resting after a long hard day of working the land.

“Sh-Shut up,” Skyseeker breathed, her body quivering as she laid back and took his thrusting. “This –  ah! – this all p-part of m-my plan-plan. You’ll s… see. Hehe.” She laughed weakly.

She laid out her legs like she was doing the splits, Roderick grunting as it allowed him to penetrate her deeper. He could feel himself squashing up against her cervix, bottoming out deep within her tunnel, her love dripping down his legs when he pulled out and her juices came with it. His nose twitched, the scent of her musk filling the office, deep and perfumey, the smell making his cock twitch.

“S-Skaven is b-breeding,” the Skaven gasped between moans, her voice petering out into squeaks whenever he delivered an especially deep thrust. With her laid out before him, her legs wide, it didn’t take too many to finish her off. She seized up, her thighs clamping round his waist with a surprising strength, trapping their genitals together so he couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to.

She threw back her head and groaned so loudly he was glad the door was closed. The maids might have thought someone had been murdered. She cooed as her love tunnel contracted in roiling waves, her fluids gushing around his plunged length. She lowered a paw, giving her belly a suggestive rub, Roderick just able to feel her touch through her own fur as she pawed at her mound. Her fluids surged forth, quickly spilling out as he was already filling her to capacity, her musk growing thicker by the moment.

She flopped onto the desk at an odd angle, as though all the bones in her body had turned to jelly, a spent expression on her face. Roderick was close too, but it seemed she’d depleted her stamina in her show of Skaven Speed, and if he were to take off her goggles he’d likely see she was resting her eyes. He wanted to desperately breed this small and eager woman, but she looked exhausted and in need of a small recovery.

He stroked her legs, then took leverage of her hips, he legs buckling as he pulled out of her. Her loins protested, but gave in, her soft insides relinquishing his foreign organ. Roderick was all too aware of every crease and roll lining her vent, how they scraped around him, shaped like little soft nodules designed to bring forth male seed. He winced as a mess of her fluids dripped out to fall to the floor, he’d have to remember to get that cleaned up before the Governor or anyone else came back.

As he moved back a step, he felt something big and soft get in his way. It was Mazkha, the orc standing directly behind him. He quirked a brow when he realised she’d stripped down to her sling and loincloth, her beautiful body on display. Her green skin was bright, without a single hair in sight, the only flaws being the numerous scars covering her arms and stomach. She’d always said she’d lived to fight, and it showed, her body a canvas of many prior battles, yet her strength did not diminish the feminine curves of her wide hips and powerful thighs.

The way her core widened to her monstrous bust caught his eye the most. He’d garnered a good idea of how giant her breasts were, but now with just a sling to cover her nipples, he could truly appreciate them. They were like watermelons, far larger than even the most endowed women he’d encountered in the Empire. They’d break the back of any human, but Mazkha was skirting ten feet tall, and their size compared to the rest of her powerful body.

The orc hugged him from behind, pulling him close, and he felt the yeilding flesh of her boobs compress against his shoulders. They were springy, but melted wonderfully against his skin, two orbs of warm and smooth fat. His male urges demanded he seek them out with his hands, but her hug trapped his arms against his sides, Mazkha lowering her head, her tusks pricking his scalp as she smelled his hair.

“Ya finished her off pretty well and good, there,” Mazkha chuckled. “I’d think she was untouched, from how quick that all was. Left the poor little knight wanting.” Her giant hand wandered down his stomach, her nails dragging across his skin, her digits brushing his erection. “Don’t worry, an orc never leaves a job unfinished.”

He winced as she took hold of his length, the ribs of her fingers wrapping around him, her fist beginning to slowly pump. He’d been receding since Skyseeker had come, but her touch was like magic, renewing his excitement in a few quick heartbeats. His hips twitched in instinct, seeking out more of the stimulation, Makzha giggling as she peered over his shoulder to watch him grow. Her other arm kept a firm loop over his chest, encouraging as much of his body into contact with hers. He couldn’t even drive his waist back, she was standing too close.

He wanted nothing more than to turn around and plunge his face into her perfect chest, but she was adamant their current orientation was good enough, and he didn’t have a chance of overpowering her, as he had with Skyseeker. His eyes lidded, the perfect strokes of her fist enrapturing him, her sultry chuckles filling his head. Her fingers were slick with his and Skyseeker’s liquid love, a squelching noise filling the room at the end of each pump, but Mazkha didn’t seem bothered it was all over her hand.

“Hey, porky,” Skyseeker muttered. She was peering down her slim torso at the pair, her goggles flicking to what was happening below Roderick’s belt line. She was laying there in an un-lady like pose, legs spread, arms tossed out. “P-Paws off my Rick-Rod, he’s not yours.”

“But you’ve left him so ready,” Mazkha said, giving him a pointed squeeze that sent shivers down his spine. “Maybe if you’d lasted more than two seconds, I wouldn’t have to step in.”

“Two seconds? Skaven definitely thinks it was more than that. Besides, the man-dick is too good, green-bean not do much better.”

“I’ll take that wager any day.”

Skyseeker looked at Mazkha the same way Kessel did to her. Then after a pause she said: “DAMN IT! Skaven set you up for that. Stupid pig-woman and your stupid word-playing.”

“You can have him back after,” Mazkha said. “There’s plenty of him to go around.”

Mazkha finally relented, using the arm on his waists to spin him around until he faced her, his vision filling with her impressive bust. She cupped his cheeks, her giant fingers encompassing his skull, pulling his lips to hers. She subjected him to a needy kiss, her tongue prying him open to delve into his palate, the smacking sounds of their mashing lips filling his head.

His erection throbbed against her belly, their torso’s squashed together, the way he had to tilt his head to meet her embrace making butterflies swim in his guts. Roderick had not been entirely forthcoming with Skyseeker. He had never laid with Mazkha, but they had not been apart for long after their intimate talks within the orc baths. Some nights he had oft found himself in her hut, or at the baths, with her as his companion. A kiss, or a suggestive hug, the kinds of things not best shown in public. This was nothing like any of those encounters, however. She wasn’t holding back, true to her word, wanting to live this night like it could be their last.

Minutes went by until he gagged for breath, only then did Mazkha give him reprieve, though she still pressed in close, using her tusks to nip at the sensitive skin of his throat, or lick at his tongue to mutter honeyed words. When she delved in for another, his heart hammered in a blend of worry and anticipation, but she backed off at the last second, chuckling at his confused expression.

She spun on the spot, the smooth skin of her rump caressing his waist as she turned around, putting her beautiful back on display. It was dimpled with muscle and curves, the way it curved out into her generous rump tingling his male urges, his hands wandering down to grip her flared waist. Her flesh was like glass, not a hair in sight, as though she’d been utterly waxed to leave her olive-green skin perfect. She had a few nasty scars here, though, deep gashes trailing left to right. She was battle-hardened, but still filled out in the hips and chest.

She backed into him, his hips pressing into her ass, his length slipping between her cheeks like a sausage in a bun. Skyseeker had finished too soon for him to join her in climax, and his dick ached for release, Mazkha cooing as she felt him flex. He took hold of himself and angled down, but Mazkha reached back and slapped him on the arm.

“Not yet,” she teased, peering over her shoulder. “I want ya right where I can get my fill of ya.”

She bumped into him, and he was forced to tstep back. She followed him closely, and he had to take another step back unless he wanted to fall. He was pushed across the floor until his back pressed against the far wall of the office, and his collision sent a few books tumbling from a bookcase off to his left.

Mazkha hemmed him in, her muscular legs forming an inverted ‘V’ as she spread herself before him. He took that as his queue, reaching down to angle his erection. She watched him, biting her lip in anticipation, reaching down to spread her cheeks in invitation. His eyes locked to a pink sliver peeking out form between her rounded thighs, glistening with her anticipation. Her lips were full and larger than he was used to, and for a moment he wondered if he would be able to keep up with Mazkha, let alone please her. He was far smaller than even the most humble of orcs in the camp, but Mazkha had never once voiced the issue, so neither would he.

He aimed to penetrate her, but again she slapped him on the arm to stop him, Roderick grumbling in annoyance. “Not there,” she giggled. “Your rat might like to get straight to business, but I gotta different kind of fun in mind.”

She reached back, taking hold of his glans, aiming him above her loins. A pink bud peeked out from the upper half of her cheeks, far smaller than her vulva. Even with her exaggerated size, this entrance was very small, but Mazkha dragged him closer until his glans squashed against it, encouraging him to continue.

Roderick eased forward, meeting a stretching resistance as he plugged her, the orc shuddering as his first few inches were welcomed in. It felt like he was cramming a cork back into an opened wine bottle, a harsh ring of resistance pushing back. Where Skyseeker’s tunnel had been full of ridges and creases, Mazkha texture was like muscles stretched taut, sealing his length in from all sides with a maddeningly tense grip.

Her passage eased out a short distance inside, but squeezing through her opening remained a constant barrier, Roderick could feel his length being crushed inside the ring before emerging onto the far side, any worries about being too small for the she-roc vanishing from his mind.

Mazkha snarled as he filled out her insides, her raven hair flicking as she tossed back her head, her face contorting but not in a bad way. He’d been soaked in Skyseeker’s juices before and that was probably the one thing helping him slip inside her, without that he felt like this just wouldn’t even be possible.

“W-What’s going on over there?” Skyseeker squeaked. She was still on the desk, propping herself on an elbow to peer over Mazkha’s bulk at their coupling. “What the-? Green-bean you got the wrong hole you big dum porkchop!”

“Nope,” Mazkha moaned, shuddering as he sank another few inches deeper, her buttocks clenching around him. “Got it juuust right.”

“But that’s not where the pups go,” Skyseeker replied, tilting her head in the way she always did when confused.

“Then clearly you’ve not been very creative in bed,” Mazkha replied. “There’s more wasy to fuck then just the breeding part, rat.”

“What would it sound like if you farted right now?”

Roderick snickered, which made him flex and cause Mazkha to grunt, her walls flexing around him.

“Now who’s the one makin’ the smarmy commentary?” Mazkha asked. “And you,” she added, looking back at Roderick. She bumped into him, as though in warning, but the bliss he felt as his cock plunged slowly and deeply inside her made him see stars. “Don’t listen to that rodent, I want yer focus on me.”

“No problem there,” he groaned. She pulled away from him, her flexing tunnel relinquishing him one slow inch at a time, the way her bud sealed around him making him buckle at the knees. She was forced to pause when the ridge of his glans soon approached, the pair sharing a collective groan as the sensation wracked them both.

Then she pushed back, driving Roderick against the wall as she sank him back inside. Her movements were so heavy, precise, as though she knew exactly how much she could take at any given moment. It was all he could do to take hold of her love handles, the way her hips were smoothed out into perfect orbs drawing his gaze. His toes curled as she took him all the way this time, her butt squashing against his stomach, everything from his waist and down vanishing behind a sea of green skin.

Her first inch strangled his base, like a ring a few sizes too small for him, the pleasure only soaring when he tried to move but couldn’t, trapped between the wall and Mazkha as he was. Mazkha smirked at him, shaking her hips from side to side, stirring him inside what little room there was inside her. Her cheeks visibly tilted, like the hull of a ship sailing across gentle waters, her walls twisting and scratching at all the right places.

“This makes Skaven feel a certain way and I can't describe it,” Skyseeker muttered, blinking when Mazkha pulled out once again. She was slow, emphasising all her efforts of getting him as deep as possible, finding a rhythm that suited her. He wondered what Skyseeker made of it. She’d never been laid before meeting Roderick, and all her expeirces with lovemaking she’d been personally a part of, watching two completely different species mate must be up there with the stranger things she’d seen on the surface.

Mazkha was so overwhelming. Where Skyseeker had been fast, rushing to be filled with his seed, letting him bend her onto the desk, Mazkha was slow, her tempo suited just to her needs, Roderick forced to go along with it with little say in the matter.

He was transfixed by her hips, how they rolled and tilted, her movements allowing her to rock into him at new angles and depths. Her butt squashed around his fingers as he took firm hold of them, delighting in how her flesh melted through his fingers.

She was going slow, relishing in the pleasure, Roderick feeling his climax teeter on the edge, but never quite reaching that limit. She relaxed against him, spreading her legs a little wider, arching her spine like a danver at a brothel, her movements slow and sensuous as she bumped into him.

Roderick struggled to keep count of her thrusts, his thoughts unfocused as she lazily plunged him in and out of her. Despite being bent over her, he had no control over their coupling, no leverage to up their pace, the wires in his male brain struggling to connect as he and the orc rutted together.

“Ya think ya can take a little more?” Mazkha asked him, his heart fluttering when she turned to look him in the eye. She was so much taller than him, if she wasn’t bent over he’d have to be practically looking at the ceiling to see her face.

He grunted, and she laughed.

“Looks like he’s speechless,” Mazkha giggled. “Whaddya think of that, rat?”

Skyseeker made a ‘harumph’ sound, crossing her arms as she looked away. “Classic surface-thing attitude. You only doing good because of Skaven’s hard work and breeding skills.”

Her cheeks squashed against his hips as she began to pump him faster. The sounds of her juices leaking around him grew louder, her walls suffocating him within a harsh tightness that bordered on pain. Only now did he realise she’d been holding back, her core flexing and sealing him within the soft tissue of her insides.

Mazkha had such fine control over herself, careful not to finish him off too quickly, groaning under her breath as she used him to scratch her insides in ways that made use of the ridge on his glans, never choosing to overload herself and finish their coupling too soon. He had a feeling she could have held him there for hours, to the point even the harsh surface of the wall would have felt heavenly and comforting. Mating with Skyseeker had been a refreshing experience from his prior human partners, but she was so fuckable that she practically begged for him to bend her over and take her whenever it suited him. It was strange and novel to be pinned like this, exciting him in a way he wasn’t used to.

She could sense him approaching his limit, smirking at him as she felt him throb and surge, Roderick unsure if she could even handle him growing without injuring her. Her breaths were like their tempo, deep and heavy, her husky voice goading him on, using what small range of movement he had to bring his hips to hers.

She gasped when one final, punishing bump sent him careening over his limit, Roderick’s eyes scrunching as he felt his seed surge. His load flooded forth, and he felt it bubble around his length when there was no room for it to go, her narrow insides vicing around him in a tight seal. She ground her hips, forcing a second load to follow, Mazkha easing it out of him with her masterful movements. If she wasn’t pinning him, he’d have surely lost his footing from the ecstasy that chased his finish, his mind growing fuzzy and relaxed as the tension in his core relinquished.

His seed draped out of her tiny bud, sandwiching between her cheeks and his thighs as Mazkha doubled over, pushing out her rump like a beast in heat, ensuring she took as much of his seed as possible, her passage tensing around him.

Roderick contraction came in so hard and fast, all his prior excitement from Skyseeker cascading, and he actually managed to make Mazkha lose her footing a little in a sudden show of strength.

When she was satisfied, she eased him out of her, the orc grinning at him smugly when he gasped as her grip loosened. The ridge of his glans caught on her tight opening, and she paused with just the head of his dick inside, Roderick watching his fluid-covered length glimmer in the candlelight. She used that ridge to scratch at her depth one last time, easing out the last bit of pleasure she could get from him. It was almost a relief when she finally moved away enough that he was free from her tight grip, and he wasn’t so tightly packed against the wall.

Mazkha flicked her raven hair from her face, turning on trembling legs to face him. “You’ve got some stamina in ya, little knight,” she muttered. “I was sure you wouldn’t last nearly that long, even after you fucked yer rat’s brains out.”

“You said so yourself, I am a good rider,” he joked.

“And a good ride too,” she laughed. She reached below his arms and lifted him from the floor, her giant arms folding around him as she pressed him once more into the wall, aligning their faces so she could probe his mouth with a deep, sensual kiss. It was getting embarrassing how she could just pick and move him when she wanted. He felt like a doll in the arms of a giant, over possessive family daughter who insisted their toy was their best friend. This wasn’t to say he wouldn’t mind being carried off by the she-orc when the mood took her, however.

Even his aching member twitched at how deeply she could plunge her tongue into his throat, their gums smacking loudly as they dragged out their coupling. It was like she was pouring out all the tension that had brewed between them since Cassel – making the most of their time now while they could, just as she’d said before. When she released him they were both panting, their noses touching as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

The silence was broken eventually by a scuffle of papers, and he looked beyond Mazkha’s face to see Skyseeker shifting over the desk, her clawed feet tapping on the ground.

“Alright alright alright, enough snogging, it’s making Skaven’s eyes bleed.” She had a gleam of interest in her eyes, even if her tone suggested otherwise. “If you’re done getting breeded up the bum, green-bean, we can get some nap-time or something.”

“Done?” Mazkha laughed. “Oh, we’re not nearly done yet.”

Roderick quirked a brow in surprise, and a little fear. Surely she did not expect him to go again so soon? His tredipation faded when she settled him back on solid ground, his legs shaky, and he had to put a hand on the bookshelf to keep him steady.

Mazkha turned, her rump swaying like a pendulum as she sauntered across the room, closing in on Skyseeker. She paused before the ratwoman with her hands on her strong hips, smiling down at her.

“What?” Skyseeker demanded. “Yeah yeah yeah, you bred him, you want a porckchop for a breeding well done?”

“I just said we ain’t done. You’re so absent-minded,” Mazkha replied, lowering to a knee. Skyseeker lurched away in confusion, her proximity to the orc alarming her.

“What you doing?” the Skaven asked, a little less bite in her tone now.

“We’re all in the same boat here,” Mazkha replied. “Marienberg could be the end of this little band of misfits we got here. We all gotta make this night somethin’ special if it does. And I just feel so bad about sidelinin’ you just now.”

“You terrible at lying, Nascar,” Skyseeker scoffed. “The only time you feel bad is when you’re eating veggies.” She gestured at Mazkha’s apparent size.

“It’s true!” Mazkha said. “I only eat meat, but that’s neither here or there. Point is, I wanna make it up to ya.”

“M… Me-Me?” Skyseeker stammered. The orc raised a hand as though to cup her cheek, but the ratwoman shrank away from it as though she feared to be punched. “What are you blathering about now?”

“You came so quickly,” Mazkha said. “Roderick knows you too well, I imagine. Now, I don’t claim to know what makes a rat tick, but we’re both women, and I’m pretty sure you ain’t all that different compared to us.”

“You talking about…?” Skyseeker trailed off. “Oh. Oh! Uh, w-wait a moment there, green-bean. I-I thought this was competition! See who Rick-Rod likes more-more! That’s what we schemed about before, or did you forget that?”

“I definitely didn’t,” Mazkha said. “And I remember our talk going down a whole other path. What’s all this about a competition?”

“You know exactly what Skaven’s talking about, stupid-head,” Skyseeker scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. Well, you are dumb, but don’t play dumber-ER.”

Roderick struggled to follow, but it seemed they had done a little more than just spar with one another. They had been mid-conversation when they’d entered the manor. But it seemed neither of them wanted to reveal what they’d’ been talking about, so he would not pry if they so wished. IT had been clear from the start there had been a deep chasm between the both of them, but maybe this was theit way of settling things.

“She’s right, lass,” he said. The two women glanced at him as he walked over. “This could be our last time together, just the three of us, and I know one round doesn’t nearly satisfy your Skaven libido. There’s no reason you should left high and dry, the night is still young after all.”

“Y-You want to breed me again?” she asked.

“In ten, fifteen minutes perhaps,” he said.

“I did run ya through yer paces, didn’t I?” Mazkha chuckled. “Don’t worry, little rat, there’s more to makin’ love than just shoving a dick inside ya. Roderick can show me the ropes.”

“I-I not know about this,” Skyseeker stammered. She shrank in on herself as Roderick and Mazkha knelt around her, the diminutive ratwoman looking all the smaller compared to the both of them.

“We’ll go slow,” Mazkha insisted. “This is all about havin’ a little fun before a fight. Trust me when I say there aint’ nothin’ better than that. You don’t even have to do anythin’, just let us do the work for ya.”

“Only if you’re comfortable with it, lass,” Roderick added in.

Skyseeker glanced between them, looking about ready to scurry under the table in retreat. She wrung her paws together, Roderick seeing the gears click in her mind as she tossed the prospect through her thoughts.

“I-I’ve not bred with a breeder before,” she murmured, looking to Mazkha.

“I can’t imagine that you have,” the orc replied. “But it’s not so bad. I remember my first time, that uncertainty I felt. But I came to appreciate it after some time, I had good guidance.”

“I’m not uncertain. I think. I don’t know.” Skyseeker bit her claw, hunkering there for a moment as she stared off to the side. “Yes. Yes-Yes. Skaven will give new breeding a try.”

Roderick reached in, cupping her snout in his hand and running his thumb over the whiskers on one side, the Skaven squeezing her eyes shut as she gasped. It wouldn’t do to have her the only one who wasn’t naked, so he reached down to strip away her bandoliers, placing them gingerly on the desk one at a time. It never ceased to amaze him how much of an arsenal she carried at any given moment, there were enough knives and swords tucked in her belts to arm a small militia.

Her hands reached up to his chest, Skyseeker running her claws down his pink chest, her fingers testing his muscles as she explored him. She was soon left only with her loincloth and goggles, drawing back a little when she saw Mazkha was staring at her chest.

“Don’t laugh,” she snapped, covering her chest with her arms. “You might have bigger teats, but Skaven has the bigger brain power.”

“I wasn’t laughin’,” Mazkha said. “They’re just right on you, little rat.”

“OH YEAH WELL IF SKAVEN WAS FAT LIKE YOU THEN… Oh. Oh, uh, thanking you, I think? So how’s this work?” she asked. “Do we flip a warp-token to see who gets to breed who?”

“It starts however you want, lass,” Roderick replied. “What do you want us to do?”

“Skaven’s… not sure,” she said, chuckling nervously. “Well, uh, Skaven wouldn’t mind if you did the stuff with your snout, Rick-Rod.”

“Very well,” he chuckled, surprised by how politely she phrased her request. “I suppose you’ll need to get on your back, then.”

Skyseeker lowered to her elbows, her rump lowering to the ground, Roderick moving over to kneel by her legs. She seemed more embarrassed to have her knees spread apart with an audience, Mazkha also taking it upon herself to lay down to the Skaven’s immediate left. Her lips were as flushed as before, glittering with her nectar that still lingered from their prior coupling.

He ran his fingers down her smooth, furry thighs, parting her entrance with two digits. She squirmed as he drew close, breathing on her vulva before raking it with his tongue, her gasp of pleasure goading him into a slow, rhythmic pace. He delighted in how her black fur brushed his cheeks, soft as an expensive belt, his gaze wandering to her toned belly.

Skyseeker eased back, covering her snout with her hands, her hips rolling in time with the plunging of his tongue. Mazkha wasn’t going to simply watch this time, and she shuffled close to tower over the smaller Skaven, encouraging her to remove her hands.

“You don’t have to hold back on my part,” she cooed. “I aint’ gonna judge.”

“S-Skaven not want green-bean to hear me like this.” Skyseeker looked away bashfully.

“There are other ways to stay quiet. Let me show ya.”

Mazkha pushed her face close, angling Skyseeker’s snout with a grip on her chin. The Skaven parted her lips in surprise, and as much as she looked like it, she wasn’t pulling away. Mazkha kissed her, first on the little cleft on the end of Skyseeker’s snout, then a more probing contact. If he could see her eyes, he’d imagined they were very big at that moment, the rat frozen up like a statue.

She opened her mouth to reciprocate, inviting Mazkha’s tongue insisde, the two sharing a light embrace that began to grow more enthusiastic as they grew used to one another. Their faces were so mismatched, tusk and whiskers brushing together, but their bawdy act made Roerick’s cock throb in anticipation.

It was as Mazkha had said. They were all in the same boat, and their experience tonight wasn’t just for Roderick’s sake, but for all of them. He also got the feeling Mazkha was enjoying the novelty of it all, and enjoyed trying out this new experience. He hoped Skyseeker was feeling the same, but from the way she was groaning into the orc’s mouth, either from his licking or from Mazkha’s it told him she was far from being in discomfort.

“OUCH!” Skyseeker suddenly yipped. “You nipped my snout with your tusk, stupid oversized cabbage!”

She wacked Mazkha upside her head, but the orc barely reacted.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Mazkha replied.

“Now you’ve ruined my beautiful face! And I’m bleeding. Wait, Rick-Rod am I bleeding?”

“Of course you aren’t,” Mazkha chided. “Want me to kiss it better for ya?”

“Talk about doing more harm than good,” Skyseeker scoffed, but she let the orc press in close, her giant tongue snaking out to kiss the spot she’d nicked. “Skaven is surprised anyone survives breeding with you, she-pig.”

“Orc-wives can take a lot more punishment than you little rats can,” Mazkha said. “Guess I forgot me own strength. Want me to stop?”

“When did Skaven say that, ice-brain?”

This time Skyseeker took the initiative, holding Mazkha by the cheeks as they mashed their lips together, probably controlling it so the tusks didn’t hurt her again. The sight was driving Roderick crazy, and he redoubled his own kisses, focusing on the upper and inner part of her opening, drawing out her most sensitive part.

“Horned Rat’s toenails, Rick-Rod you’re so DEEP.” Skyseeker whined as he found her sweet spot, brushing it with the end of his organ. “Ooooh keep going man-thing. Yes-Yes, right there, yeeeeeesss…”

“Not too fast there, little knight,” Mazkha said, wagging a finger at him. “Don’t finish her too quickly.”

Roderick relented, slowing down to lap at her lips in small, apologetic strokes, Skyseeker groaning as she felt him pull inches of his tongue out.

“P-Put it back in,” Skyseeker begged. “Why’d you do that? Skaven was close.”

“Skaven might be all about rushing to the finish line,” Mazkha said. “But there’s somethin’ to be said for pacing yerself. Keep that fire burning and burning, instead of just racing to extinguish it. The longer ya hold it back, the better it gets.”

“Th-That not how it works in Skavendom,” Skyseeker said. “Breeder’s made to hold and give pups. Skaven with privilege to enter breeding pits not stay for very long.”

“We’re not in Skavendom are we?” Mazkha said. He expected the orc to make some slight or comment, but she phrased it like a simple matter of fact. “We can make our own rules here, and rut as we please. How’s that sound?”

Mazkha kissed her before the rat could answer, Roderick pushing his face back into her nethers at the same time. He felt her thighs quiver as the two assaults bewildered her, her smaller frame stretching and roiling. She was getting used to it now, letting her gasps and groans out as the pleasure mounted, her tail kicking up a storm beneath her.

“How about taking these off?” Mazkha asked after they pulled away for breath. She was reaching for the leather strap of her Skaven goggles, but the ratwoman batted her hand away.

“No touchie! The goggles stay on during breeding. Always.”

“When was that a rule?” Roderick asked, He’d pulled back for breath too, but his fingers were gently caressing her lips, his fingers flexing in lazy gestures. He’d caught onto Mazkha’s meaning, doing everything slower and more sensual, ensuring nothing got too fast too quickly.

“I-It’s always been rule. Duh!” Skyseeker replied.

“But you’ve taken them off in the past,” Roderick replied.

“No. I. Haven’t. Rick. Rod.” Skyseeker enunciated each word slowly. “He not know what he’s saying, green-bean,” she added with a guilty glance at Mazkha. “Skaven thinks you bred him too hard, gave him memory laps. Yes, hehe, that must be it. Totally.”

“And I’m the bad liar?” Mazkha laughed. “But if ya don’t want to take em off, that’s fine. It was just an offer.”

“Only Skaven touches the goggles,” Skyseeker reiterated. Mazkha shrugged, then reached down to nuzzle at Skyseeker’s neck, giving her little love bites and wet kisses. She ran a green hand over the Skaven’s head, as though stroking her hair, travelling down her chest with one kiss or nibble at a time.

She bundled up her exposed breasts when the orc neared her clavicle, and although her furry face showed no skin, he could tell her face was growing warm with embarrassment.

“Y-You not have to bother with them,” Skyseeker said. “Skaven gets it, they’re not very big and blah blah blah. Whatever. Not that Skaven is bothered or anything.”

“I don’t care about how big they are or not,” Mazkha replied, using her nails like a comb to brush her head. “Of course they’re smaller than mine. I’m the daughter of a warboss who was bigger than my brother, I’ve got the biggest knockers in Brettonia, and that’s not an exaggeration.”

“You’re smaller than human women too,” Roderick added in. “But have I ever shown that it bothered me?”

“No… B-But I’ve seen you checking out green-bean’s green rack. Every chance you get you ogle and boggle at them. You like hers more than mine.”

“Don’t compare yerself to me, little rat. It’s pointless. Can’t ya see how hard he’s holding back not to eat you out like a ripe apple? If he’s givin’ any indication he likes ya more than me, I’m failin’ to see it. Don’t compare yerself to me, little rat. It’s pointless. We’re all different species, we all got different qualities we each like, and you got some things that Roderick doesn’t that ain’t half bad.”

“L-Like what?” Skyseeker asked, her eyes narrowed as though suspecting a falsity.

“Ya fur, for one thing. Damn near soft as my pillow, but it’s also warm as well. I can appreciate a woman who takes care of her hair. You should come to the Warrrgh’s bathhouse sometime, I got this here conditioner that’s just right for this kind of colour.”

Skyseeker fretted, chewing on a nail as she considered her prospects.

“I’ll stop if ya want,” Mazkha iterated. “Nothin’ wrong with bein’ shy. But I can make ya feel good if ya let me, little rat. Definitely more than Roderick does.”

“You won’t say any smart comments?” Skyseeker asked. “You Skaven swear?”

Mazkha put a hand to her chest, the meat of her breast squashing inward.

“I Skaven swear.”

“Fine,” she said. “And I’m not shy I’m just… getting sensory overload over here.” There was a flash of steel, and there was a knife in her hand, the blade hovering an inch from Mazkha’s eye. Even the orc looked surprised. “You got that, you talking asparagus? Sensory overload.”

“I got it. Now, are you going to let me make you feel good, or are ya gonna stab me?”

“Both, if it suits Skaven,” Skyseeker replied. She released her boobs, her flesh rippling as they settled against her slim chest. Mazkha gripped them from below, Skyseeker squirming beneath her as she tested their weight and firmness. They were the size of apples, perfect for Roderick’s hands, but miniscule in the orc’s grip. True to her word, Mazkha made no comment about them, instead making the ratwoman seize up as she squeezed.

He remembered their conversation about Mazkha’s father, how he had abused her since she was very young. She’d never passed up the opportunity to make some off the cuff joke at Skyseeker’s expense, but she was being unusually restrained now, even if Skyseeker wasn’t quite aware of it. She really did want her to be comfortable, relaxed, and he felt a new appreciation for the orc at this show of genuine affection.

“C-Careful,” Skyseeker moaned, when Mazkha moved for her nipples. She was constantly in motion, wriggling and stretching her long spine. “Oooooh, yes-yes-yes. Just like that. Wow. Green-bean really knows how breeder’s tick.”

“That’s because I am one, at least in terms you understand,” Mazkha replied. She ran a green hand down her belly, the Skaven’s core twitching beautifully, cupping her mound in her palm.

“Roderick looks like he’s enjoyin’ himself,” Mazkha chuckled. “He’s clearly had his practice. I think you can handle a little more, though.”

Roderick’s tongue was almost the perfect size for her opening, but he saw Mazkha’s finger slide in from above, making room for herself as she drew a tiny circle on Skyseeker’s vulva with her print. He watched as she slid the finger in up to the second knuckle, the Skaven bucking beneath him, her thighs constricting around his neck reflexively.

“H-Hey Skaven can’t… oh gosh. Oooh goooosh that’s something Skaven did NOT expect to happen.” She squeaked under her breath as though suddenly wracked by climax. “Eeeek! W-Watch the nail stupid she-beast.”

“I am,” Mazkha assured. She was stroking and sliding her finger, Roderick could feel it sliding against his tongue. She was exploring her tunnel for something, and Roderick knew what, pulling back a little and wiping the juices from his lips.

“It’s a little lower,” he said, grabbing her arm and guiding her down, while he resumed his licking on the top half of Skyseeker’s entrance.

“Rick-Rod don’t tell her Skaven weaknesses,” Skyseeker complained, but her tone conveyed her evident excitement.

“Just wait until she finds your other pair,” he chuckled.

“Other pair?” Mazkha asked. “What’s he talkin’ about?”

“Oh, hehe, n-nothing,” Skyseeker said. “Just focus on my Skaven Spot and don’t worry about other things.”

“Now I’m even more intrigued. Well, if ya don’t want to tell me, guess I’ll have to explore every last part of you until I find it.”

“You can try,” Skyseeker replied, chewing her lip lasciviously.

Mazkha quickly found her sensitive bud, her digit drawing on it lazily. Skyseeker squirmed, and if he wasn’t taking a gentle but possessive hold on her legs, she’d have wriggled straight out of his grip through her agility alone. Mazkha didn’t relent on her boobs, massaging one then the other, each time she alternated making her insides clench.

“Skaven c-can’t fit both of you,” she stammered. “Ahhhhh wwwwwoooooohooooo m-maybe I c-can. Hooo boy! Slap my rump and tell me it’s Warpstone Wednesdays, who’d have thought stupid green-bean was so good at breeding.”

Roderick clapped her cheeks in his hands, lifting her a little from the ground so they could have better access to her nethers. They continued on like that for minutes, filling her vent with tongue and finger, her walls struggling to make room for them both.

Roderick could see the orc was content to give Skyseeker all her attention, but she was clearly getting the short end of this interaction. He changed that by snaking out a hand towards her, running his hand across the mountain of her hips, the way she posed on her side enunciating her already exaggerated curves. Her lips were the same green shade as the rest of her, puffy and inviting. Her felt a wet tightness grip him the second he touched them, and he slid inside with barely an ounce of resistance, thanks to her copious juices. Even before being touched, she was enjoying herself.

“Y-Your little humie’s pretty attentive,” Mazkha muttered, her heavy frame shivering as he slid his fingers deeper inside. His digits moved on a slippery sheen, gliding into her tunnel even as her passage gripped him fiecley beyond her soft walls. “How are ya doin’ that, Roderick? I can barely tap my head and rub my belly at the same time without ballsing it up.”

“Man-thing has had plenty of practice,” Skyseeker giggled. “Show the cabbage that thing with the claws, Rick-Rod.”

Roderick curled his fingers, stroking the roof of Mazkha’s vent from below, not unlike a beckoning motion. He felt a little nub of flesh draw forth, a bud winking at him from its protective pocket of skin. It had more surface area than the print of his thumb, and he gave it a tentative stroke, watching a shiver shoot up from her spine and out the top of her head.

“Hehe, looks like man-thing found green-beans green-bean. Ha!” Skyseeker grinned at them both in turn. “You get it? Get it?” she added when no one spoke. “Wow, okay remind me that Skaven humour is too smart-clever for dumb surface-things.”

“You sure talk a lot for someone gettin’ eatin’ out,” Mazkha commented.

“I would say you get used to it,” Roderick said, pausing his licking to take a breath. “But that’d be lying. Sometimes I have to stick bullets in my ears to calm the racket.”

“Oh, haha,” Skyseeker said, rolling her eyes. “You see, that dumb man-thing joke not nearly as good as Skaven joviality. Anywho’s, you cannot silence the sheer brilliance of my supremacy, even while breeding.”

“Then me and Roderick will just have to put that to the test, won’t we?” Mazkha asked.

The orc guided another two digits inside her, her insides able to accommodate now that Roderick had pulled away. He watched as her Skaven insides pursed around Mazkha’s green fingers, contrasting against her soft pink folds.

Mazkha leaned over the rat, bringing her tusks into rnage of her snout. Her raven hair fell about her face, blocking Roderick’s from seeing what was going on, but he could tell by the sounds that she was kissing her again. She pulled down, nibbling on Skyseeker’s neck, the tusk on her lefthand lip pinching into the black fur of her neck. Skyseeker opened her mouth not to yelp or scold the orc, but to pass a comely whine from her throat.

“Did ya like that?” Makzha chuckled. “Maybe my teeth ain’t so bad after all.”

She focused on her throat, Skyseeker shuddering as Mazkha focused her attentions there, never relenting in the slow massage of her loins. Roderick scooted round to Skyseeker’s other side, planting soft kisses on her toned belly and furry hips.

Mazkha was putting more weight on the little Skaven, her movements slow and sensual as she ground her hand gently in and out of her, hiwle paying attention to where she was most sensitive around the neck and shoulders. Skyseeker’s expression lulled, and he could see she was struggling not to let her tongue loll out of her mouth as the sensations boggled her.

The orc wasn’t being overwhelming, everything about her screamed gentleness, taking things easy, but Skyseeker was bewitched all the same. Seeing her subjected to pleasure like that, but having little to do with it, filled Roderick with a strange kind of excitement, a deep anticipation roiling inside him, as though he was watching a play and was waiting for the final act to commence.

“Stupid g-green-thing,” Skyseeker muttered. “Stupid fat hands and tongue. Can’t even say teeth right. There’s no fffff sound in ‘teeth’, ignorant f-fool.”

“Ya pretty adorable when yer flustered. I can see why you picked this one, little knight.”

“What?” Skyseeker turned to sharply glare at the orc. “I’m not f-flustered!”

Mazkha cooed, as though she was being subjected to the stare of a lost puppy, running her fingers over Skyseeker’s scalp again. Her gaze intensified as she began to increase her pace, kneading and pushing against Skyseeker’s nethers. She seemed to know exactly how much of her fingers the Skvaen could take, the two women shifting in tandem as Skyseeker’s limit threatened to be reached.

Skyseeker tried to push against the orc, to seek more and faster stimulation, but just as she had with him, Mazkha was setting the speed, but changing her speed by even an octave, letting the finish approach at a constant. Skyseeker’s ears twitched, her little chest rising and falling in quick breaths, her head throwing back as she reached her limit.

But the release never came.

Skyseeker’s gasp morphed to a whine as Mazkha’s hand withdrew fully, drips of her fluids falling from her fingers. She pulled back from her gentle biting too, grinning as the Skaven mewled and struggled against her weight.

She cursed under her breath, the lack of stimulation easing her back to the floor in an exhausted heap. Roderick had certinaly never tried to deny her an orgasm before, stroking her thighs and belly apologetically as Mazkha grinned down at her.

“How’s that feel?” the orc asked. “Not too bad, eh?”

“S-Screw you,” Skyseeker replied, but she was covering her face again in her hands, unable to look either of them for very long. She was rubbing her thighs together, still giddy with residual pleasure, still so receptive to Roderick’s touch as he palmed and combed her lower half.

“We could do this all day,” Mazkha said. ‘Bring our little rat so very close to the edge, then pull ya back right at the precipice. That feeling swirlin’ inside ya? We could prolong it all the way till dawn. But, well, we bloody get that damned city to save, don’t we? What do ya think, Roderick? Should we let her have this next one?”

“I think she appreciates taking things slow once in a while,” Roderick said, suporessing a smirk. “Isn’t that right, lass?”

“YES-YES! Will say anything you want-want! Just make me breed already!” Skyseeker complained. “Oh Gods, Skaven cannot take denial again. You want me to say please? Fine. Pleasey-Please!”

“Well, since ya put it so nicely.” Mazkha chuckled. “His mouth, or my hand?”

“Huh?”

“Where do you want to breed?”

“Oh, uh. Well, th-that’s obvious! Can’t believe you’d be dumb enough not to know my answer. As if I’d ever pick YOU over my man-thing. I, ummm…Well, uh. Maybe… Maybe P…. Paw.” She gave Roderick a sheepish look. “Sorry, Rick-Rod.”

“Don’t apologise,” he said. “We want you to feel good, lass.”

Mazkha nodded in agreement, pressing her palm into Skyseeker’s crotch once more, giving her mound a few loving strokes before splaying her wide, careful to keep her nails from cutting anything sensitive. She held onto her head tightly, keeping the Skaven pinned in place as she began to resume her torturous stroking, her digits slipping inside her opening up to the second knuckle. She swirled her fingers round when she pushed as far as her vent allowed, Skyseeker biting down on a claw to suppress another groan.

“Relax,” Mazkha cooed. “Let it come to you, not the other way round, little rat.”

Mazkha was treating the ratwoman like a virgin, knowing that Skyseeker had never bedded another female before. The Skaven was always so receptive, but she was practically shivering in Mazkha’s arms, and h’ed only seen her do that during their first time together, all those months ago. It was like she was rediscovering the art of lovemaking all over again, and he felt a swell of endearment for his partner. Lord Gnawdwell, her former Clan, this Ironsnout warlord, all of them had tried to put the act of mating as a duty, a cruelty that female Skaven were forced to be subjected too, but he and Mazkha could show her there was a fun and enjoyable side to it, an experience that was good for all sides involved. Perhaps even laying with another fellow female was for the betterment of her outlook – males of her species were viscious and conniving things that saw her only as a conduit to carry their young. No such discrimination was present in the she-orc.

Skyseeker began to reciprocate, reaching up a hand to stroke Mazkha’s arm, brushing the beads of sweat dripping down her green skin. Her breathing grew ragged, her tail curling and flicking beneath her, her long toes curling as Mazkha plunged her digits up and down her slick walls faster and faster.

Her orgasm closed in, he could see it racking her in the way she coiled up like a spring, ready to let all that tension loose. She tilted her head back, ready to let out a moan of desire, but Mazkha pressed her fingers against her scalp and forced the Skaven to look her in the eyes.

Skyseeker bucked, a sound between a squeak and a mewl slipping from her throat as she came, throbs of pleasure contracting her beleaguered body. Mazkha massaged it all out, pressing her hand deep into her nethers, her brow quirking when she felt her vagina constrict around her hand with surprising force.

Skyseeker’s incisors bared, trembling as she rode on the waves of her exctasy, finally able to release after being denied the first time. The two women’s bodies heaved as one, Mazkha continuing her cruel attentions throughout the Skaven’s climax, the frustration of being overpowered by a stronger partner only seeming to make the Skaven grunt and gasp louder.

When the final surge was over, Skyseeker melted to the floor, her limbs splayed at odd angles, fingers and toes twitching with aftershocks of pleasure. The orc gave her an apologetic kiss on the nose, finally pulling back her fingers from her crotch, Roderick’s member flexing when a torrent of Skaven nexter spilled forth after being plugged by the orc hand.

Roderick felt compelled to hold Skyseeker, and when he laid down next to her, the rat woman opened her arms, and he scooped her into his chest, holding her close. He enjoyed running his hand down the curve of her spine, glancing the spot where it tapered out to where it joined the base of her tail.

“Room for three in there?” Mazkha giggled.

She swooped in from Skyseeker’s other side, gathering him and Skyseeker up in her burly arms. She placed herself beneath them, large and wide enough they could both use her as a mattress, looping an arm over each of their shoulders. Feeling their bodies against his, the muscular smoothness of the orc, and the softy fuzziness of the Skaven, it was as though Roderick had been pulled into the afterlife. They each shared lingering glances at one another, little smirks and grins that spoke a thousand unspoken words. They had no blankets, but the night was warm and the room was hotter thanks to all their exertion, the intimacy of the moment undeniable.

“I haven’t had a night quite as fun as this in… I don’t know how long,” Makzha whispered. “You two are so little and adorable. I thought neither of you would be able to keep pace with an orc, but neither of ya disappointed. I suppose you two did have practice together,” she chuckled. “You okay down there, little rat?”

“F-Fine, yes-yes,” Skyseeker muttered.

“That’s it? You at a loss for words or somethin’? I knew I could rob ya of your little japes eventually.” She pecked Skyseeker on the temple, the Skaven making a half-hearted attempt to pull away. “Your adorable when you’re not trying to put on the tough breeder act.”

“I am not adorable,” she insisted, but her tone and expression had more of the opposite effect. “Sensory overload, I tell you! Or did the stupid walking cabbage forget that already?”

“There it is,” Mazkha chuckled, taking it in her stride.

They lay there quietly for a long time, listening to the beating of one another’s hearts, the shallow breaths of their collective exertion. How strange it was to think the Empire considered Skaven and greenskins as the enemies of order and civilisation, he had slain hundreds of both their kind across many battles and theatres, and yet here he was bedding them.

The Imperial court would have a fit if they ever discovered he had done this, in addition to wielding and using the Warp power of the relic in his quest to return home. They would scoff and call him a heretic, and that would just be the beginning. Roderick would have agreed with them a few years ago, when he was just a field commander, taking his men across the provinces to protect and serve the state, unbothered by ancient relics and the implications of working alongside rats and beasts. Yet how could something be wrong, immoral, when it felt so damned good?

He had little more time to ponder such thoughts, as Mazkha began to stir, turning her tusk on Roderick as she subjected him to one of her deep kisses. Her tongue was massive, pouring into his mouth one thick inch at a time, the rhymical pulses she made as she lapped at his palate sending sparks shooting through his mind.

“Don’t get too comfy there, little knight,” she cooed. “The night is yet young, we still got time for another fuck or three.”

“Or three?” Roderick asked. He wasn’t sure whether to be excited or nervous.

“Green-thing you HAVE to try Rick-Rod’s mouth thing,” Skyseeker added in, pressing in from Roderick’s side. “The way he moves his tongue-tongue, is like he’s speaking the entire dictionary into loins.”

“Don’t worry, little sister, I plan to put him through his paces,” Mazkha replied, rolling onto Roderick’s chest. She was careful not to put too much weight on him, splaying her knees wide to either side of his shoulders, giving him a gorgeous view of her mound and lips.

“Skaven will take the good side of man-thing, hehe!” Skyseeker shuffled behind Mazkha’s bulk, Roderick feeling her soft legs straddle over his waist. She rubbed her slick entrance against the top of his shaft, standing so erect it almost hurt when she touched it, sensitive as he was.

“I think Kessel was right in a way,” Roderick said. “You Chaos-spawn will be the death of me at this rate.”

As Roderick’s vision filled with her orcish entrance, Mazkha resting upon his face, he had to admit she was doing a good job at keeping his thoughts occupied from the coming battle.