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The ratgirls insisted on coming in together, of course.

I'd barely managed to usher the two of them in and smile apologetically at them before they couldn't resist temptation any longer. I just had to turn my back on them! I'd just locked the door when I heard scuffling on the carpet, turned, and got my ass shoved off-balance. The two of them together hustled me over to the beanbags.

I could've shouted and struggled, yeah, but I didn't want to make a scene. Besides, they muffled me pretty effectively once I was shoved down to the soft floor. I landed facedown, and four soft impacts touched on me in quick succession. Rat feet, of course. Big, soft, with long furless skin-pads and toes that dragged trimmed claws along my back. The chubbier ratgirl was the one sitting on the right, I could tell by her heavier footpaw on the back of my skull, gently nudging my face into the carpet.

Rachel (or some other R name, as just calling them Righty and Lefty has no dignity) had her feet propped on my head in no time, Laura sliding both long feet under my shirt to rub along my back. I could tell why she had Rachel's feet pressed right up to hers before - they were freezing! Must've been the tile floor in the entryway. It made me wince, muscles in my back trying to crawl away from her icy soles and getting nowhere but deeper into the carpet. Granted, it must've felt that much nicer for her to get her poor feet thawed out, but why, oh why did I have to suffer for it?

Besides, it isn't as if I have a lot of fuzzy fur or thick, insulating scales to rely on for protection. I'm just a poor little human boy born and bred, and my skin isn't anybody's idea of winter wear but Ed Gein's.

By the time Laura had her feet spread flat on my back, toes tickling from lower back all the way to my shoulder blades, I'd let go of my death grip on the carpet, no longer hissing into the stuff- but my head was still jammed straight in it, courtesy of the long rat toes curled across my head like some eagle's. I wasn't in danger of catching a cold, and Laura's toes weren't going to snap off anytime soon. She relaxed them with a churr, and I could feel her shift on the couch, sliding closer to Rachel.

Rachel was being gentler now. Her feet started moving, rubbing across the whole back of my head. I keep my hair in a short cut, so it was undoubtedly tickling and fuzzing across her sensitive pink soles. I could feel their warmth against my head, and having a girl's pretty, well-tended feet on my head is pretty okay anyway. I could just barely feel the ends of her toes, with slightly tougher skin, rubbing against my forehead.

After a few minutes Laura's feet were nice and toasty, sandwiched between my skin and the shirt. I could feel them slightly moistened with natural oils, making the skin soft and pliant when it rubbed over my back. Rachel's rubbing lulled me enough that I didn't notice those long ratfeet sliding to one side until she gave me a kick and rolled me right over. I had a brief glimpse of the two of them holding hands and Rachel kissing the other on the lips, with just a bit of wet tongue sliding into her muzzle, before two heavy feet came down over my face and left me in darkness.

It wasn't that bad, of course. I couldn't smell anything but clean, fresh skin and strawberry lotion. I'd add more to keep her soles buttery-soft, but I couldn't exactly reach at the moment. Her arches neatly fit my cheekbones, sliding gently back and forth in a warm kneading that made me shift more than a little uncomfortably. My work outfit didn't leave a lot of room to hide my favorable reaction to her work. Things got downright bulged as Laura rolled my shirt up past my stomach and hooked her toes around my waistband.

It took her a bit to slide a toenail into my zipper and work it down, but rat feet are pretty damned agile. They weren't doing this in creepy silence, of course, but I'll be damned if I can remember what it was they were talking about. Some gossip about a few sisters.

Rachel was probably getting a treat from my blushing heating up the skinpads under each toe. After the bunny and panda, the rats really had me going, and getting depantsed wasn't helping. It took Laura a few tries to pry my boxers down over the spirited erection she'd given me, Rachel's feet grinding slowly against my face and toes pinching my nose shut for a moment while they both chittered at seeing an honest-to-goodness boner.

I thought that was going to be their fun, laughing at some human getting worked up over feet. Then Laura dipped her toes into the massage gel, thick gobs of the creamy stuff clinging to them, and splayed out big and first toe to catch my shaft between them, spreading the improvised lube all the way.

I arched and grabbed handfuls of carpet. Who could blame me? From what little I could see when Rachel's feet moved, Laura had picked up the jar and was pouring it liberally over her feet, slickened toes combing and stroking me with increasing frequency as I contributed a little natural lube to the equation. I was dripping-hard, and I had them to thank.

Not that I had a lot to thank them for. As soon as my hips started rising up to meet it, they chattered together and Rachel swatted me with a pudgy foot, and they get up and left. I made a helpless sound as they did, even reaching out, but they just stepped past me, Rachel's feet tromping past me and pinning me straight to the carpet again for a minute. She cupped Laura's crotch through their shorts and rubbed upward, making the skinnier rat kiss her on the cheek, and out they went. Their laughter shrilled out from the hall. I sat there, wondering if the last few minutes had really happened or if I was just tripping balls.

I'll save you the suspense. They come back into the story soon enough.

The temptation to take care of business myself was strong, and I sure had material, but that's just not something you do at work! A few minutes let it go down on its own. I arranged my clothing and knelt down on the plush carpet and stretched out my legs, washing my hands in the fingerbowl and hoping I didn't look too mussed. My supplies were holding out so far, except that one jar, and I didn't want to disappoint the next client.

I did have time to think now that business was slower and my head was clear. Is this really all I was expected to do? Sit here and rub the feet of pretty and sexually forward girls, day in day out, as long as I had the gig? Not that I was complaining. Hell no! But something in me felt like the other foot was about to drop, ha ha. There had to be a guy, or an ugly old woman, or someone- uck- unhealthy about it. Someone I wouldn't get turned on rubbing!

No massage clinic could stay in business long with such a wildly exclusive clientele unless the masseuses paid for the privilege. Granted, I would gladly fork over money for it, but since I was the only masseuse employed just yet, I couldn't be paying the rent. What the hell was their scheme?

I would find out later. In the meantime, the door opened. I looked up with a guilty start from my reveries of watching a coed raccoon's paws growing dusty and grey on a city street, and saw Rachel and Laura come in again. This time they didn't giggle or goose each other. They were intent as a commando unit as they locked the door again, advancing on me like a pair of sharks.

They pointed to the carpet in front of the couch, and I took my place. I wasn't going to disobey. Then Laura pushed and shoved me into a different place, with my feet by the couch and the rest of me stretched away from it. Rachel sat on the couch, and Laura pinned down my legs. Good thing it was her. My legs would've gone numb as soon as Rachel sat her large-and-in-charge self on me.

I couldn't see much with Laura in the way, but I heard cloth on fur. After a little fumbling I saw Rachel's legs lift and her shorts get pulled aside. Black undies followed shortly after. I swallowed, heard, as Laura reached back to undo my pants and tug them down again. Yep, full response still.

Rachel dipped her adorably fat toes in the massage gel. One foot rested against my groin, providing a warm, fleshy backstop of soft skin. The other, wet and slippery with goop, pressed its wide toes to my personal business and started rubbing. First long, slow strokes with the ball of her foot, then curling her toes around me like a monkey and gently wriggling them. Laura got busy meanwhile. I could tell, as not only did Rachel start twitching, I could hear the rat's tongue flickering along wet flesh and lapping into her friend's body.

I'll give Rachel credit for being a trooper. She didn't just lie back and let Lauren's tongue unroll into her cooch time and time again, lapping up the sticky juices with abandon. I could smell them. Her ratty muzzle slid out of sight, spreading her friend's lips open wide and rubbing fur against them, tongue slicking straight through to her cervix if I was any judge. No, Rachel kept me going the whole time, slathering more thick oil across her foot, pinning my cock in her arch and squashing her feet together, grinding her heel against it, everything in her power.

Watching and hearing the show in front of me took its toll. Slimy, deliciously warmed gel coating my dick and swirled across its skin helped do the trick too. By the time Rachel had me curled between all her toes, splaying them out and pumping them along my length with sticky curls of juice clinging in the pale skin between them, I couldn't help it. I gritted my teeth, eyes rolling back in my head as her feet worked along my pulsing length. At least she got plenty of foot moisturizer out of the bargain, smeared from toe to heel as she changed her technique yet again. She jerked me a while longer, then just spread her feet across me, domineeringly pinning me down as her fat toes curled again, sticky with juices. At least she wiped them on the carpet so I didn't have my own spunk wet on my skin.

Laura wasn't done just yet. She was twisting her muzzle in Rachel's saturated depths, wet squishing and squashing reaching my ears as she licked hot nectars from the ratgirl's spread cunt almost as quickly as they could ooze out. I was surprised she didn't drown. Rachel almost crushed the breath out of me as she tensed up, thighs tight around Laura's head, pinning her ears flat. She was tossing her own head back, big bubble-breasts heaving, fur shiny with sweat.

Laura's hands reached around to grab that chunky ass, her muzzle popped out of Rachel's snatch with a splash, liquids pouring off her nose as she took a fat bud of flesh in her teeth and tugged, worrying her clit with sharp nibbles and wet tugs of her lips.

Lord only knows how Laura survived. Rachel's thighs clamped down, she shoved her feet down and knocked the breath out of me, and she erupted in a steaming shower of what felt like a pint of fresh, dribbling ratjuice. With Laura as a blast shield I only got the edges of it, and she still managed to get it all the way to my face, a few drops landing on my lips. They tasted musky and spicy and absolutely addictive. Most of it landed on the girl's own feet.

I didn't need to be ordered. Hell, I would have begged. As Rachel sagged down limp, Laura exchanged a quick glance with me and picked up her friend's left foot. I took the right. We knelt, and the big-and-beautiful girl was treated to having her girlcum licked and sucked from her sexy pink toes.

I've had worse jobs, really.