Vurrik's Bad Day

Story by frear_c on SoFurry

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The apprentice of a Skaven warlock finds himself involved in a strange experiment...


"All hail Vurrik, saviour of the clan!" the stormvermin screeched as he raised his bloodied halberd.

"All hail Vurrik of Skryre, our new master!" a thousand shrill voices resounded in the cavernous hall.

With a smile of undisguised glee, the bespectacled ratman closed his beady little eyes and allowed himself to savour his triumph for an instant. It had taken many moon-cycles of careful plotting but at last his efforts had paid off and the downtrodden masses of the warren had risen at his command. None of the big rats ever suspected that the meek, perpetually kicked-in-the-butt apprentice was secretly weaving their doom behind their backs, and now their severed heads lay piled at his feet, their faces frozen in an expression of sheer astonishment.

"Bring-fetch the prisoner!" he ordered.

The stormvermin opened their ranks and two black rats appeared, dragging a screaming and kicking skaven behind them. The clanrats that filled the cavern went into a frenzy at the sight of the wretched creature, and even the muscular soldiers had the greatest difficulty in preventing the baying mod from seizing the prisoner and tearing him limb from limb. At last the guards reached the platform where Vurrik stood and unceremoniously dumped the captive in front of their new master.

The ratman looked down at the wretched form squirming on the floor and a wicked light flared in his eyes. He had waited for this moment for so long!

"So, Iktrikk, you verminous tyrant, what do you have to say-squeak for yourself?" he said, pressing his foot to the neck of the despised warlock.

"Pity, Oh most magnanimous of masters," the sobbing wreck moaned, "Have pity-mercy on your poor old teacher!"

"What about all the beatings, the insults, the nasty-cruel experiments?" the little brown rat said, unmoved, "Did you have pity-mercy on Vurrik then?"

"I was jealous, afraid of your genius-brilliance!" the warlock cried out. "Please, let me go and I will disappear-vanish like a little worm."

"Kill-kill him!" shrieked a clanrat, "He burned my fur with warpfire."

The warlock mewled in fear and gripped his former apprentice's leg around the calf like a drowning man a piece of driftwood. Vurrik raised an imperious hand, silencing the crowd.

"Iktrikk, you miserable maggot-meat, I should dissolve you in acid. But I do not want to waste precious chemicals."

He opened his trousers and let loose a thin stream of sour liquid on the warlock's head.

"You are demoted to scrub-slave, and you will clean-lick my glorious tool every day after I mate-mount my breeders. Serve well and maybe-perhaps one day you will become my apprentice."

"Thank you, most generous of leaders," the skaven sighed in grateful relief, warm piss dripping from his snout.

"But today, it is you who will serve as my breeder. Lift your tail now-now," he chittered, displaying his incisors.

"Anything for my lord," the warlock grovelled submissively. He bent over on all fours, presenting himself sexually to his new master.

Things began to blur just as Vurrik began to rut the ass that was offered to him. The crowds faded and the walls shrunk in size until the vast cavern was no more than a tiny burrow. In that burrow Vurrik lay on his bed, stark naked and very erect.

"Oh yes," the ratman whispered, one hand stroking his cock and the other playing with his balls, "How do you like-like it Iktrikk? Take that, and that and..."

He squeaked as a long rope of cum sprang out of his dick, coating his scruffy chest and belly. In the throes of his orgasm, he did not see the head that suddenly popped out from the burrow's entrance.

"VURRIK!"

Startled by the loud voice, Vurrik jumped in his bed and hit his head against the bare stone of the low ceiling. The ratman whined and rubbed his injured forehead, his filthy blanket slipping to the floor.

"Vurrik, wake up you little vermin."

The voice belonged to a particularly nasty and angry-looking stormvermin. Vurrik stared at him dumbly, his thoughts tumbling over each other.

"It is the tenth hour already, the master is furious," the black rat spat out, "Go and see him at...."

He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes fixated on Vurrik's body.

"Pleasant-happy thoughts, huh?" the stormvermin snickered, "Well, you better hurry quick-fast, or soon your life won't be so pleasant."

***

Still putting his pants on, Vurrik raced through the narrow corridors of the warren. He cursed under his breath. It had seemed so real! Alas, the delicious fumes of fantasy had dissipated and the harsh reality of his condition had reasserted itself in his mind. He was not a cunning plotter about to seize control of the clan from the clutches of his master, at least not for now. He was only the humble apprentice of Iktrikk, a particularly deranged and eccentric warlock-engineer of clan Skryre. More immediately, he was very late for his daily shift in his master's workshop. Vurrik muttered a short prayer to the Horned Rat and hoped that his well-honed sycophantic skills would save his hide once again.

Hissing machines, buzzing warp-powered lights and dangerous-looking cables were strewn in weird confusion about the workshop. In the middle of the clutter stood Iktrikk, his body bent over a table covered with confusing charts and odd instruments. He turned around sharply just as his panting apprentice entered the room.

"You lazy, good-for-nothing creature. Staying in bed while your master does all the work!"

"It's not my fault, greatest of inventors," the apprentice pleaded, "A bad-evil wizard must have cast a spell on me."

"Yes-yes, an odd-strange kind of spell," the warlock shot back, his red eyes narrowing, "The kind that makes breeding-bits grow hard? And shout-squeak your master's name?"

Vurrik looked behind the engineer and caught a glimpse of a black-furred form furtively exiting the workshop by a back door. Before he vanished, the skaven turned his head towards the unfortunate apprentice and flashed a smug, self-satisfied grin in his direction. Vurrik recognized the stormvermin who had caught him masturbating. Of course the dirty rat had rushed to tell his master what he had seen! He made a mental note of his ugly mug. In his next fantasy this bully's head would join the others at his feet.

The groping hand that clasped his genitals wrenched him loose from his ruminations. Iktrikk was now standing directly in front of him, his fierce inquisitive eyes boring straight into his terrified soul.

"What made you so excited? Thinking of stealing-robbing my precious secrets?"

"Never-never, most feared of lord-leaders," he squeaked, feeling the fingers pinch his orbs mercilessly, "I was dreaming about... you... and your inevitable triumph, with me, your humble servant, at your side."

Amazement, quickly followed by pride, crossed the warlock's features.

"Me and my triumph? Yes-yes, of course it is only a matter of time before my genius is finally recognized! Soon the clan lords and even the Council will have to praise-reward my research."

Vurrik sighed internally as the pressure on his testicles relaxed a little.

"And maybe-perhaps a tiny fraction of my glory will reflect on you. Yes-yes, this is a magnificent dream, one that would make any faithful servant grow erect and shoot-spurt his rat-seed in my honour."

Relief flooded Vurrik's body. His master had let go of his crotch and was now staring blankly into the distance, his mind no doubt filled with visions of himself sitting on a throne, surrounded by handsome bodyguards, prostrating slaves and chests overflowing with warptokens. He congratulated himself on his cunning; it was so easy to exploit his master's vanity!

"But this dream will only come true if you work-toil hard instead of lazing around in bed!" the warlock suddenly barked. He lashed out with his foot, hitting his apprentice right between the legs.

For several long minutes Vurrik writhed on the floor, his hands clutching his swollen jewels. When the pain had dulled to being bearable he looked up fearfully and saw his master standing above him, his foot tapping in impatience. Through tear-filled eyes he saw that the warlock was now holding a strange object in his hands. It was a cylindrical tube, about as long as an arm and wider than a clenched fist. The tube was open at one end while the other ended with a rubber sleeve, and its interior looked like it was lined with soft leather. He could not form the slightest idea of what the purpose of this object was but he instinctively cringed at its sight, fearing that his master intended to use it on him for very unpleasant purposes.

"No need to be afraid, this is not for the likes of you," Iktrikk spoke. He started towards a tunnel on the other side of the workshop and made sign for his apprentice to follow. Still moaning in pain, Vurrik clambered to his feet and limped after his master.

***

It soon became obvious to Vurrik that they were headed towards the beast pens. The stench of wet fur and rotten meat was becoming stronger with each step and the roars of the caged beasts were echoing through the dimly lit corridors. His musk-glands clenched in fear at the thought of the misshapen monstrosities that dwelled in the dark caves beneath his feet. Why was his master taking him there? He burned to ask the question but dared not risk the wrath of the warlock again.

After many twists and turns deep in the bowels of the warren they finally came to the entrance of a large vault carved out of rock. A skaven wearing the mark of clan Moulder on his clothes let them in after a respectful bow towards the warlock. The place inside was bare, except for a wide, foul-smelling pit in the middle of the room. Here Iktrikk stopped for an instant and waved his hand, indicating his apprentice to get closer to the hole. With extreme reluctance, Vurrik approached the ledge and cautiously peeked over it.

The thing he saw made him spray the content of his glands into his pants. It was a hideous abomination, a cross-breed of skaven and the Horned Rat knew what else, with sharp yellow fangs, vicious red eyes and dark bristling fur. Its huge ape-like body leaned forward, resting on two trunk-like arms that ended in massive clawed fists and on legs that were short but thick with bulging muscles. Sensing an intruder's presence the beast raised a pointy snout, growled in anger and lashed the air with its long naked tail.

Vurrik's heart almost leapt out of his small chest when his master clasped his shoulder from behind. "So, what do you think of my new rat-ogre?" the warlock asked, clearly relishing the expression of terror on his apprentice's face.

"Most-most magnificent animal, worthy of the greatest of warlords," the skaven stammered, not liking at all being stuck between his master and the edge of the pit. "But what does it have to do with our research?"

"This beast-thing," the engineer said, pointing towards the snarling rat-ogre, "Is the final piece of my breeding program. I have already collected the essence of many-many specimens - clanrats, stormvermin and even a grey seer. Their seed, mixed and refined, will create a new, improved breed of skaven that will serve in my army."

"This is not how it works you..." the apprentice almost interjected, although he was able to check his tongue before it was too late.

"And the rich-fertile sperm of this rat-ogre will ensure that my future soldier-minions are strong and fearless in battle," Iktrikk concluded, his eyes dreamy again.

"But master, aren't rat-ogres created without breeding-bits?" the apprentice timidly asked.

"This one was purchased at great-great cost from clan Moulder. Tailor-made as per my order-wishes," the warlock replied irritably.

Vurrik twisted his neck to get a better view of the beast and stopped breathing for an instant. The rat-ogre wore no loincloth, and a long sheath hugged his belly while a massive, leathery sack hung between his legs. Both testicles were clearly visible under the hairless skin, each almost as big as his own head.

"This harvester-thing is of my own invention," the warlock said, proudly cradling the tube, "It can collect semen from the biggest specimens, without any waste."

His face became somber. "But the rat-ogre will not let any skaven touch him. Many-many slaves tried already and all failed miserably."

For the first time, Vurrik noticed the scraps of bloodied cloth and pieces of gnawed bones scattered over the ground of the pit.

The rat-ogre lowered his head and grumbled lazily, as if bored or sleepy. Reassured, Vurrik leaned slightly over the edge to admire his impressive rathood. Even at a distance he could feel its masculine, aggressive reek. He remembered the stormvermin from earlier and a twisted thought crossed his mind.

"Not a problem, oh most ingenious of masters, I know exactly where to find another volunteer," he chuckled.

"But who said-squeaked anything about a volunteer?" the warlock interrupted, pushing him into the pit with a well-aimed kick to the rear.

Vurrik's horrified shriek was cut short when he hit the dirt face down. Fortunately, the soft surface saved him from injury, although he yelped in pain when the tube that Iktrikk tossed after him landed on his head.

"A great reward awaits you if you bring-fetch me the beast's seed. Worry-fear not, he has already eaten today."

The monster did not immediately pounce on the tiny morsel of food that fell into his lair. Instead, he moved in slowly to investigate the trembling thing. Vurrik felt an approaching sense of doom as the ground under him shook with the beast's heavy steps, and he emptied the remaining content of his glands when he felt his warm breath on his neck. With an immense effort, he lifted his head from the filthy ground and found himself facing the rat-ogre's ballsack.

A noxious smell immediately assaulted his nostrils. It was pungent and sweaty, even by skaven standards, and his first reflex was to gag. The greasy scent burned his delicate nose and penetrated his mouth, imprinting itself on his tongue. The testicles had probably been harvested from an unlucky but well-endowed skaven and then submerged into one of clan Moulder's growth vats before being sewn onto the rat-ogre, maybe to make him more aggressive. According to his master the beast had never ejaculated, and his orbs looked full to bursting.

"What are you waiting for, you stupid-meat? Get to work!" the warlock spat venomously.

Below him the rat-ogre grunted angrily, his patience already wearing thin. Vurrik clenched his teeth and gathered up his courage. He knew there was only one thing he could do.

The brute's snarls turned into a puzzled whine. Someone was touching him in a place he had never been touched before and the alien feeling left him utterly paralyzed. Kneeling between his legs, the diminutive skaven was gently massaging his testicles. They were firm, yet elastic, rolling around easily in their scrotum. Emboldened, he let his fingers explore the smooth underside of the rat-ogre's balls until his digits found the rigid cords that connected the life-giving orbs to his body. The beast huffed loudly and spread his legs wider, eagerly granting the smaller rat full access to his genitalia.

The long, hairy sheath was now right above Vurrik's head. It extended from the top of the rat-ogre's scrotum to just below his navel. The skaven shuddered at the prospect of what was inside, but he had no choice. Taking great care not to startle the monster by a sudden movement, he slowly closed his fingers around the base of the virile member and began to stroke it, his hand sliding easily back and forth. Almost instantly Vurrik felt the flexible rod harden under his touch and after a few strokes the tip of the beast's sheath opened, revealing the head of his penis.

As a skaven, Vurrik was well-used to strong body odours and dubious personal hygiene, but the raunchy smell that hit him in full force almost made him faint. Even the lowliest slaves licked themselves clean once in a while, but until today the rat-ogre had never experienced an erection and his shaft had never seen the open air. Unfortunately disgust was a luxury that the apprentice could scarcely afford at the present time. The beast's penis was swelling monstrously, rapidly taking a blood-red colour as the big male became increasingly aroused. Overcoming his repulsion, the skaven grabbed the taut skin of the sheath and rolled it back along the shaft, freeing the now-turgid member.

The thing almost smacked him in the face. It twitched violently against the rat-ogre's belly now that it was no longer constrained in its fleshy envelope, and it kept growing as it throbbed until the tip reached up to his muscular chest. Despite the obvious difference in size, the organ was very much like Vurrik's own: smooth and shiny, thick but slightly decreasing in girth towards the top and ending in a flaring glans dotted with little bumps around the rim. The ratman watched dumbfounded as a fat glob of translucent precum leaked from the rat-ogre's cocktip and dribbled lazily to the ground. The head alone was larger than two fists.

"Hurry-hurry! Make him mate-breed the tube!" Iktrikk chittered excitedly from above.

This was sound advice, Vurrik thought. The stimulation on his cock had awakened previously unknown urges in the rat-ogre's primitive mind and he was now grunting and humping the air aggressively. Soon, Vurrik realised, his frustration would drive him to grab the nearest warm body to fuck it. The skaven's empty glands clenched painfully at this terrifying prospect. He picked up the harvester from the floor and, not without difficulty, aligned it with the throbbing glans.

The rat-ogre's red eyes went wide as he rammed his penis into the open tube. His sensitive shaft brushed against the velvety lining of the artificial breeder and the tight walls compressed his swollen cocktip as he buried himself deeper. A new, frightening, sensation surged from his crotch and radiated through his entire body, overwhelming his brain. He let out a plaintive cry and darted his eyes around panickedly, instinctively looking for the handlers that fed and trained him every day. But the familiar faces were nowhere in sight, and the dull-witted beast was left without guidance in a situation he didn't understand.

Fright and anger almost drove the gigantic rodent to seize the small skaven to bash him against the walls of the pit, his usual response to situations that were beyond his limited comprehension. But before he could move he felt something soft brush his belly. The smaller rat, sensing the giant's confusion, was gently rubbing his hand against his flank, caressing his tense muscles and trying his best to soothe his fears. Vurrik was acting more out of a desire of self-preservation than compassion, but the gesture worked nonetheless. The rat-ogre's handlers used the lash freely on him and it was the first time that someone was touching him without the intention to cause pain. The murderous cloud lifted from his mind and he relaxed somewhat, dimly realising the little thing meant him no harm. Sighing a long sigh of relief, Vurrik cautiously moved his hand, laid it on the massive glans that bulged through the thin rubber at the end of the tube and, using his thumb, delicately massaged his cockslit.

It was as if an electric shock had coursed through the brute's nerves. His fears dispelled, he enthusiastically thrust his hips forward, burying his cock to the hilt and almost dislocating Vurrik's shoulder. The small skaven frantically dug his clawed toes into the soft ground and bent his body forwards. Above him the rat-ogre was groaning loudly, pounding in deep, powerful strokes that made his heavy balls bounce back and forth in their sack. Vurrik's head was pressed against the beast's groin, almost touching the exposed base of his shaft, and wet squelching noises filled his ears as the huge male withdrew and plunged his dripping member into the tube with grunts of beastly pleasure. Precum was flowing steadily from his penis and running down his testicles to soak the filthy ground at their feet. There was no longer any question of teasing the monster by playing with his balls or stroking his cock. The best the little skaven could do was to hang on against the onslaught and hope that the rat-ogre would not take too long to cum.

It didn't take long. The rat-ogre's frame tensed and shook with his approaching orgasm. His balls drew closer to his body while his cock seemed to grow and pulsate even more. In the last few seconds his thrusts became frantic, his scaly tail thrashed wildly and his breathing turned to short, huffing pants. He came with an earth-shaking roar, hot semen pouring from his dick directly into the collecting sleeve. Vurrik held on for dear life with both arms clasped around the tube as the rat-ogre thrust his hips and ejaculated again and again, draining his balls of their pent-up cum.

Finally it was over. The exhausted, sweaty beast came to a rest, his head hanging low and his tongue lolling out of open jaws. Between his legs Vurrik hung from his still-erect penis, his feet a few inches off the ground. Slowly, the rat-ogre's erection softened and sank down until he withdrew himself from the tube. His fat, cum-coated cock swayed lazily between his legs like an obscene slug, a long rope of white semen dangling from the tumescent glans.

"No waste! Squeeze-collect all!" Iktrikk shrieked, dragging his apprentice from his stupor.

Vurrik pulled himself to his feet again. He looked down at the opening of the harvester. Miraculously the tube had not spilled its contents. The inner lining was slimy and the sleeve at the end was bloated with warm, sloshing animal cum whose salty smell made his head spin. His fear of the rat-ogre temporarily forgotten, he grabbed his dangling cockhead and pressed the spongy flesh above the opening of the tube, squeezing several generous globs from his urethra. The beast rumbled deeply, seemingly enjoying the attention, and rewarded the smaller rat by swiping his gooey tongue across the top of his head. Vurrik kept milking his new companion until his wilting cock slipped from between his fingers and retracted into its sheath. Soothed, the giant let out a loud sigh and sat on his haunches, his huge balls resting on the ground. He began to peer at Vurrik with new interest, perhaps considering a post-climax snack, but finally decided against it. Stretching his mighty limbs like an oversized cat, he yawned and fell asleep almost instantly.

***

Iktrikk bounced on his feet like an excited frog as the quivering apprentice was hoisted out of the pit by two clanrats. Dismissing the ratmen with a febrile gesture, the warlock snatched the tube from his assistant's hands, buried his snout into the opening and drew a long sniff. He exhaled blissfully as he removed his slime-covered nose.

"Delightful, even better-greater than expected. Rat-ogre stupid but more fertile than twenty stormvermin."

With great caution, the engineer poured the contents of the collection bag into a big glass jar until the thick greyish liquid filled the container almost to the rim. Vurrik could scarcely believe that even the rat-ogre's impressive balls could have produced so much cum. When the bag was finally empty Iktrikk brought the tube to his mouth and licked its insides greedily, his tongue straining to reach the hidden folds where little pools of seed and cock juices lay uncollected. Vurrik squirmed and looked away from the sickening scene, wishing his master would let him go.

At last Iktrikk remembered his assistant's presence. Licking his lips, he lifted his snout from the tube and grinned. "How could I forget? It's time for your reward. You have earned-gained it."

Vurrik gulped. This sounded suspicious. In ordinary times his master rewarded good service by withholding his blows and nothing more. What exactly did the deranged rat have in mind?

Tossing the tube aside, the warlock drew closer to his apprentice and wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

"So, you were dreaming about me-me?"

The nervous skaven shivered at the unexpected contact. "Yes-yes mighty lord, dreaming of your glorious victory as I said-squeaked."

"With you at my side, huh?" Iktrikk winked, his nimble fingers moving to unfasten the apprentice's pants.

Vurrik desperately tried to think of a way to get out of here without offending his master but found none. His pants dropped to his ankles, revealing his sizeable balls and plump little sheath. Iktrikk immediately began to fondle him.

"M-master, please... I am not worthy-deserving..."

"Indeed you are not," the warlock retorted, "But I still need-require your essence."

More than once in his life Vurrik had been the subject of the advances of other skaven - typically bigger, stronger rats who didn't ask for permission - but it had been a while since someone last touched him. The apprentice closed his eyes and shuddered despite himself while his master played with his sack and toyed with the opening of his sex, tickling the tip of his penis. Even his reluctance couldn't prevent his body from reacting accordingly.

"Good-good," the engineer grinned as he felt the effect of his stimulation. He gripped Vurrik's sheath and pulled his nascent erection free.

Blood rushed to the apprentice's face. Despite all these months spent assisting his master in his strange experiments this was actually the first time he was fully unclothed in his presence.

"Humph, not bad for a brown-fur," the warlock nodded appreciatively, seizing the tip of the glans between his clawed fingers and examining it up close.

He unclasped his robes with a swift gesture and shrugged them to the floor. He was already rock-hard, his pink flesh glistening in the low light of the cave. Stepping away from his garments, he placed his hands on his hips and flaunted his erection in from of the apprentice.

"Impressive-mighty, I know."

Even at this distance Vurrik was fairly certain that his own rathood was longer and girthier, but he had enough sense to praise his master effusively. Iktrikk bared his incisors triumphantly and, without hesitation, bent over and dipped his fingers into the open jar, coating them with rat-ogre cum.

"This seed will make my minions brave-strong. But I will add a special touch," he giggled madly as he pressed his body against the apprentice's and gripped their dicks together, "A drop-pinch of my own essence, to give them brains in addition to brawns."

"But master," Vurrik sighed between huffs and gasps, "This scheme is dangerous-risky, what if your warriors become too smart?"

"I thought-planned for this," the warlock replied, his sharp teeth nibbling at his apprentice's throat amorously, "Your inferior-weak seed will instil in them the proper amount of cravenness and obedience towards their betters."

Iktrikk's thumb played along their cocktips, rubbing them together in a way that drew little moans from his frightened apprentice. Both males were sticky with rat-ogre seed and their members slid against each other with muffled slick sounds. Vurrik felt his heart rate picking up. He had barely had time to recover from his earlier orgasm and his flesh was so sensitive as to be almost painful. Despite this, the heady pheromones of sex were getting to his head and his dick twitched in anticipation of squirting its seed again. A little spurt of watery precum dribbled from his slit and ran down Iktrikk's shaft.

"There will be a little bit of you in my masterpiece, yes-yes," the sorcerer-engineer whispered, "But I flay-crucify you if you tell-squeak anything."

"Of course... master..." the little rat ground his teeth. He closed his eyes and pictured the sorcerer-engineer naked and tied spread-eagled to a rack, utterly at his mercy. The thought made him even harder. At this moment Iktrikk groped his buttocks and drew their tense bodies even closer, squeezing their balls together until he felt his testicles touch his master's orbs through the thin skin of their sacks. A sharp vibration erupted in his groin as he felt the surges of an orgasm overtake him. He buried his head in his companion's fury shoulder and came, whining softly while the waves of pleasure coursed through his body. Iktrikk climaxed a few seconds after him, the warlock squeaking erratically and shooting long ropes of semen that mixed with his servant's seed and oozed through his closed fingers.

For a while they stood in a panting embrace, their guards lowered and their spent manhoods growing soft. Little by little, however, the awkwardness of the situation started to weigh on Vurrik's exhausted mind. The rat-mage may have temporarily forgotten his rank, but Vurrik feared this would not last very long. His fears were brutally vindicated when Iktrikk pushed him without warning and sent him tumbling head over heels to the ground.

"Enough-enough! Who gave-granted you permission touch your master in such a fashion?" the skaven barked, his jaws snapping ferociously in the direction of the confused apprentice. Fortunately for Vurrik, his anger burned as quickly as a match. After a few seconds the feral, paranoid rage faded from his features, replaced by a more familiar look of deviousness.

"Well, maybe-perhaps I did," he grunted, "But that is no reason to waste time."

His hand scrubbed his cum-covered balls and squeezed his flaccid meat, scooping up a palmful of gooey spunk which he collected in a small flask. The apprentice remained immobile on the floor with his legs spread wide while his master repeated the process on him. Satisfied with his harvest, the warlock put his robes back on and patted the pocket where he kept his new treasure.

"This was your reward," he said, "But do not think-believe I have grown soft-weak."

He lifted the heavy jar of rat-ogre cum off the floor and clutched it precariously in his scrawny arms. As he tottered towards the exit he casually added, "This sample is a great-good start, but much-much insufficient for my research. Tomorrow we will collect more. In the meantime, you are dismissed."

Vurrik waited until the footsteps of his master had faded into the distance before he let himself fall back down on the ground with an exhausted groan, his arms outstretched and his pants still at his ankles. He stared at the gloomy ceiling and let his mind wander for a while, reveling in elaborate fantasies in which his boss was bound with his legs spread and savagely bred by every single rat in the warren, down to the last, most disease-ridden skavenslave. The loud snoring of the rat-ogre dragged him back to reality. He dragged himself to the edge of the pit and observed the colossal rodent, now slumbering peacefully with drool spilling out of his maw. A sly smile crept on his face; at least he had gained a new friend. One that might prove useful one day...