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Rat Rebellion

Chapter 3: The Party Performers

By Draconicon

With the plan made and underway, Anastus had to push himself to his limits to keep the three converted rats in line. Lidochka was both the hardest and easiest of them at the same time. On the one hand, she was eager to kill off anyone that called themselves a master of the rats, but at the same time, she was more willing to listen to him if he could get her to calm down. The albino rat wasn't an idiot, just...angry. Very angry. And with good reason.

But at least she could listen to him, unlike Isay and Kir. Despite being told to keep this quiet, they were all too eager to show off for the other rats in the household, going naked in the kitchen now that they didn't have an overseer to stop them. The other rodents could not miss their new muscles, and either their pheromones were hitting the other servants harder than usual, or they were being flirtatious enough to keep the attention of the other males and females. More than once, Anastus had been forced to break them up, to get them back to work, to not risk spreading further transformation.

And that, all that, was on top of what he had to do with Lord Florus.

Thankfully, the fox noble was hardly a threat these days. The once-great potion maker was more of a slut than anything else, and while he had some intelligence left to him, he was more interested in the rat's cock, in his musk, in anything that he could do to earn the right to get fucked than anything else. It was like dealing with a child, in a way, a child that had the body of an adult but without the self-control that many had.

He had his foot on the fox's face, holding him back as he looked through the letters that Lord Florus had brought him. Various nobles had already responded to the invitations that they had sent out a few days ago, and the city of Cornu seemed to be more than interested in coming to another legendary party at the fox's mansion.

A soft lap against his toes pulled him out of his thoughts, and he put the letters on the desk nearby, shaking his head.

"I need to focus..."

"Mmmph...I need...that..."

Lord Florus's attention was, understandably, locked on the rat's cock. It was throbbing up and forward, bigger than it had been before the experiment that had twisted him into this. He groaned as his attention was called to it, too, feeling it bounce up a little bit further, feeling the trickle of pre-cum that ran down the hyper-sensitive shaft. Gritting his teeth for a moment, he looked down at it, then at the fox, and sighed.

"Fine. But just one. Do you want it up your ass or in your mouth?"

"Mmm..."

The fox turned around, lifting his tail, exposing his ass cheeks. Anastus stared for a moment, half-sure that they had somehow grown in the last few days, but he couldn't be entirely sure. All he knew was that it looked sexy, and he was more than willing to take a bit of pleasure from that hole before the party was due to start.

We've got a few hours...I can spare ten minutes.

The brown-furred rat grabbed his former master, pulling the lord back against his crotch. The feeling of those fuzzy rump cheeks against his crotch was just as good as it had been the first time, and finding that pucker with the tip of his cock was getting easier every single time. The hole parted slightly already, well-stretched from their previous fun, and he pushed forward just enough to -

POP!

"Ah...ah..."

As ever, Lord Florus's face was the picture of pleasure, his eyes wide and his tongue hanging out of his mouth. His ears were not flattened in anger, but rather flicking and hanging a bit limp, as if they were not sure what to do with themselves. The fox's tail was thrust off to the side like a vixen in heat, and his breath came quick and fast.

"Oh...ah...yes...yes..."

The fox moaned, wiggling his hips, wagging them side to side in a weak little ride forward, then back, then forward again. Each little thrust teased him, squeezed on his cock and then pushed back hard, sheathing it further into that hot little pucker.

For all that the rat was annoyed at the interruption, he had to admit that the pleasure was more than worth it. The sight of the former master under him, the feeling of satisfaction that came with the fox's pride completely broken on his cock, the sight of his cock opening up that hole and leaving it gaping like a breeding bitch: it was all as hot as he could ask for. He growled, his fingers curling, his own instincts rising as he started to thrust forward, adding to the force that Lord Florus used to hilt himself, making his cock throb all the harder as he felt the deep depths clasping around the head of his cock.

"Oh...oh, sir..."

"Mmmph...call me...master..."

That had been the latest thing, turning the whole thing on its head. The once-master had to call the once-slave by his own title. Moaning, the fox shivered, clenching his fingers against the floor. Anastus shook his head, gripping the vulpine's hips tightly, keeping them from thrusting back.

"Nnnngh...please..."

"Say it, or you don't get what you want."

"Mmmph..."

"Call me what I am..."

"Mmmph...M-master..."

"Now, what do you want?"

"Fuck me...fuck me, master..."

"That's better..."

He couldn't believe how hard his cock got from hearing that from the little fox. The fact that he had been able to get Florus to say that was amazing enough; the fact that the fox had begged...oh, that was something else entirely. He groaned under his breath, pulling his former master back again, feeling that pucker spread for his cock, savoring the warmth, the almost-wetness that stroked along his shaft as he buried his dick all the way up to the hilt again, and again, and again.

The smaller male was moaning for him, gasping, shivering, his cock throbbing hard enough to make little wet smacks against his belly. Anastus could hear it, and he felt his cock get even harder, knowing that it wasn't even the drug anymore that was keeping Florus on the ground in front of him. No, it was the pleasure that he got, the addictive pleasure of being filled over and over and over again.

He planned on giving the fox more of that, giving him all that he could handle.

In, out, in, out, each thrust popping that hole just a bit, making it gape that little bit more. Seeing that little red ring getting brighter, seeing it spread further, feeling his cock ruining that hole was making him all the more aroused, reminding him of his power. One thrust, two, three, each one going deeper, each one hilting, each one loosening that hole a little bit more for future use.

"Mmmph..."

He groaned again, feeling the soft grips loosening a little more, knowing that Florus was struggling to keep hold of him, knowing that his cock was breaking the fox. There were few things more satisfying, more empowering than knowing that he was big enough, powerful enough, thick enough, man enough to break someone under him like this. He thrust faster, faster, feeling his balls swinging forward and slapping the fox's sac, knowing that it wasn't going to slow him down in the slightest.

In and out, in and out, plunging all the way in and almost popping out as he pulled back. Each slam thrust the fox across the floor that bit more, and he could feel a bit of pre-cum hitting his knees as he followed his once-master across the floor. Oh, and more than that, cum. The fox had already cum, blowing his load all over the floor from the hard rut.

But he needed more. Just like Anastus did.

Grunting, he shifted positions, sliding one leg forward and putting a bare foot on the fox's head. He pinned the lord down, fucking his ass harder, faster, curling his toes through the fox's fur and keeping him in place. In, out, in, out, faster, harder, deeper. His little slut was gasping for breath, shivering under him. Another weak clench, another orgasm as he hammered against the lord's prostate.

In, out, in, out...in...

Suddenly, the fox thrust back, moaning, squirming, wriggling. The sudden clench, a bit of tightness where there had been none before, was enough to push him over the edge. With a groan and a moan, he came, and he came hard, his balls pulling up, his cock pulsing.

With a deep growl in his throat, he felt the urge to lean forward, to bite the back of the fox's throat, to feel it clenched between his teeth like a feral male might have done. He almost gave in, his jaws spreading...

But he didn't do it. He controlled himself. He held back, focusing on the pleasure of draining his balls deep into the male under him. One thrust, two, three, just to push it in all the way, ensuring that it was flooding right into the depths.

Finally, he was able to pull out, his cock throbbing still, but his breath coming slower, less frantic. His shaft was slowly lowering, drooping after that orgasm, but his balls felt scarcely smaller, only slightly less heavy. Anastus rubbed his eyes, shaking his head.

"You're done."

"Mmmph...good..."

"Go to your room. Wait there."

"Yes, Master."

There was more willingness to that this time, and he wasn't sure if he liked that or not.

As the rat walked out of the room on all fours, Lidochka returned. He looked up at her, glancing at the wet marks along her white fur coat, and he imagined that she had just come back from some 'clients' that she'd been assigned. He didn't see any red on her, either from them or her own suffering, so he imagined that it had gone a bit better than it otherwise might have.

She really struck a figure in the middle of the room. Naked as a whore-rat always was, she showed off the curves that the potion had given her without even trying. Even with a hand on her hip and her muzzle twisted up in annoyance and her ears pulled back over her head, she still struck a beautiful pose. Her hips were wide, rivaling those of the breeding females, and her breasts had been rendered fuller than the black-furred jackals of the south. She looked like a woman that many would fight over, a fertility goddess for those that would try and claim her.

And she was frowning. He leaned back a bit, folding his hands over his groin. Slightly. Hard to do that with a cock that was as big as his was.

"What's the matter?"

"When do we kill them?"

"Again?"

"I'm tired..." She took a deep breath, her entire body shaking for a split second before she got control again. "I'm tired of waiting to see them dead. I deserve...I deserve something after this."

That wasn't what she was going to say, and they both knew it. She was going to say that she was tired. Tired of being used. Tired of being under the males - and sometimes the females - of the other species.

And he didn't blame her. She was the one that was still leaving the manor, the one that was being pimped out based on the plans that Lord Florus had put together before his untimely demotion. She had people that she had to satisfy, money that she had to bring back, and experiments that she had to run.

Experiments that he still didn't know anything about.

"You want someone to die?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then tell me what's happened with your clients."

"..."

"You told me that you'd tell me if you could control them. Can you?"

She looked away, and he didn't know if that was a yes or a no. She might be disappointed that it couldn't work, and she didn't want to tell him. Or maybe it was a yes, and she didn't want to be used as a tool, but she couldn't bring herself to directly lie. He sighed.

"Lidochka...I need your help with this."

"No. We need them dead. Then this will be done. I can...we can..."

"They'll be here, helpless, yes. But we have to think of the long game."

"This game can't be won until they're all gone. They're all alike. All...all like him," she said, nodding over her shoulder where Florus had gone. "If we keep leaving them alive, they'll figure out a way to fix this."

"Not if we do it right. And we can't do that if we leave a giant trail of bodies."

"So what are we going to do, then, hmm? Are we going to just...just have me fuck every male between here and the throne? Let him squirt in me, hope that I can squirt on him and take control? Is that your plan, Anastus? To replace him as my pimp?!"

Seething as she was, Lidochka was still holding onto her self-control better than he would have credited her for. She knew what the stakes were, and there was no way that she didn't understand how difficult their situation was. One mistake, and the city of Cornu would be quarantined, and quite possibly every rat inside of the city killed just to make sure that none of those empowered like them got out.

Anastus had seen the kingdom do something like that before. Back when another experiment got out of control. Back when the raccoons had gained power. That...that had not gone well for them.

Shaking his head, the rat stood up and reached out to his fellow slave. She twisted from him, but he took her by the shoulder, anyway. A soft vibration of a growl buzzed through that point of contact, but she didn't push him away.

"Tonight is the start of it, Lidochka. If we can do that...if we can take the nobles that come through here...then I'll let you kill Florus after that."

"...Swear it to me."

"What?"

"Swear to me that I get to kill Florus. Promise me that his blood will be mine, and I'll make sure that every single one of them bends knee to you tonight. I...need this...I need..."

"...I swear it."

There was something horrifying about letting those words pass his lips. He knew that she was angrier than he was, and again, for good reason, yet...yet the idea of giving her permission - giving anyone permission - to just murder someone left him feeling sick to his stomach. More than anything, he wanted to take it back, but she had already nodded at him.

"Then I'll do anything I need to. Anything."

"...For now, rest. I'll get you an hour before the party."

She nodded, leaving the room with a slight sway in her hips, not joyous, but more like she was keeping in practice, like she was training her body to keep up with what she would demand of it. He watched, shaking his head as he followed the swaying cheeks before they walked out the door.

He sighed, sitting down again and looking at the letters.

"Twenty-five nobles, all with a partner," he muttered, flicking through the pieces of paper and parchment. "Fifty people that will need to be taken...fifty...And that's not even including what will happen with their slaves."

Because they would bring their slaves with them to the party, other rats. That meant that it was possible for them to convert the rats to their rebellion, too, but that was going to be tricky. Some of them might be like Isay and Kir, the cooks; they would be interested in being stronger, but they'd need convincing to actually join up with a rebellion. There'd never been a successful one against the power of the Gaermus Kingdom, and here Anastus was with one failed potion trying to start one. No armies, no political allies, nothing but a potion and a body that had the chance to turn others to his cause.

Through rape?

The rat groaned, rubbing his forehead again. That was something else that had been bubbling through his head since the start of this. While he had been a slave, while he had fucked his former master in a most unexpected way, it was still something that the fox had been forced to like. He wouldn't have done that without the potion-stained seed in his mouth, nor would he have begged for anything afterward if the potion wasn't meant to instill obedience.

Yet...

Yet it was still something that was useful. He had to consider it, figure out how he was going to do this long-term. If he had to, he might even be able to fuck other rats to get them on his side, if he really needed to, but...

Gods...

Anastus sighed, rubbing his forehead, groaning under his breath. He had never had to think this much, and it was giving him a headache. He didn't miss being a slave, but he had to admit that he wished that it was easier not being one.

He took a deep breath, then went back to looking over the acceptance letters. For all that he had succeeded in gathering the nobles of the city, he still needed a plan of what to do before and after they were 'poisoned' by the cooks. Kir and Isay were going to spread the potion and their seed through the bubbling soups and stews that were going to be eaten at the table, but he needed back-ups, plans to take care of anything that might go wrong before that happened, and what he was going to do while the potion was taking effect.

So much to do...

#

The hour of the party arrived, and the rats of Lord Florus's manor welcomed the rich men and women to the household. They were all but invisible to the lords and ladies, and Anastus wondered if there had been a point in them putting their loincloths back on. It seemed like they would have been just as unremarkable if they had been in the nude.

Shaking his head, he looked down the table, standing where he normally would at Lord Florus's side. The various species - mostly foxes, but with a smattering of other species here and there, like a bloodhound or a badger - sat down at the different high points of the table, males on one side, females on the other.

The dining hall was a massive chamber, one that stretched out for dozens of feet on one side, and twenty on another. A single door allowed guests and the dwellers of the house to file in from the south side of the room, near the foot of the table, while the servants brought food in from the head of the table. A great stage covered in a curtain so blue that it could have been the sea dominated the east side of the room, though nothing could be seen there, yet.

They chattered and spoke, conversated and cajoled each other over topics that were as foreign to him as they were. The nobles spoke of tax and trade, of slaves and servants, of the various amenities that were no longer good enough and which had to be thrown out, and of the things that they were getting to replace them. They spoke of the riches that they were having sent to them from the foreign lands, and they spoke of the slaves that they'd had put down.

He saw the slaves of Lord Florus flinch at the obvious names of the rats that had been killed. There was no mistaking the name of a free man for a name of a rodent. Faina, Kolya, Matfey: names of the rats, those were, slave names that no free man would take. Each name was another flinch, each name another bowl that was nearly dropped as they were served to the masters that graced the table.

Out of the corner of his eye, beyond the blue curtain that covered the stage where Lord Florus would display his entertainment, he could see Lidochka stewing. She was barely dressed, her breasts lifted by metal hoops that hung beneath them, her legs forced to spread by a bar that ran between her ankles, and dancing cloth draped from her wrists and hips. Yet, for all that, she strangled the air, stewing in her own fury.

They shared a glance, a slight one, and she stopped. There was no need to step out and slaughter. Not yet.

As the food was dished out, the nobles began to eat. Anastus did his best to keep his head up, to keep up the illusion that he was merely the body-slave of the Lord Florus, but his nostrils kept twitching. Was that food 'poisoned' by the potion and seed, he wondered? Or was it that stew? Was the glaze of the fruits that which Isay and Kir had marked, or was it something else? It was impossible to tell without leaning in and finding out, and the fears that something had gone wrong continued the mount.

No noble showed the dumb or dull expressions that Lord Florus had when he had fucked the fox's face, and few, if any, of them were showing the sort of slowness of speech or the warmth of the face that meant that they were in the slightest aroused. The rat clenched his teeth. What was going on? Why wasn't anyone being affected?

Hoping for a distraction, he idly tapped his former master with his tail. The fox knew the signal, and stood up.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the fox said with a hint of his previous loquaciousness, "while we eat, I believe that it would be a lovely experience to see one of our slaves perform for us."

The crowd groaned at that, and more than one noble complained about how the sight of Anastus at the head of the table was bad enough, that the sight of rats turned the stomach for more civilized species. The fox, however, continued on regardless.

"This rat has been modified through the work of my potions. I believe that she will be more than enough to turn your attention to something other than your stomachs," Lord Florus said with a chuckle. "Now, if you will turn your attention to the stage..."

The various foxes and other assorted species did as they were requested, though most of them showed some sign of reluctance. The curtain raised, and as soon as Lidochka was revealed, they froze, gasping softly.

And well they should, Anastus believed. The albino rat was a sight to behold, with curves exaggerated beyond even those vixens that were in the audience, and augmented vixens, at that. The white-furred female reached for her chest, pushing them up, showing off her curves to all eyes that were willing to look, and that was all of them.

As she began to dance, twirling on one foot to show them her bindings and her hips, her ass and her long, whip-like tail, Anastus took that moment to turn away. He darted out of the dining room and into the kitchen, sure that something had gone wrong.

He was halfway down the hall to the kitchen when he heard the meaty 'thump' of someone getting hit.

The sound was almost enough to make him stiffen up and freeze, the memories of a thousand punishments coming back to him all at once. The whip, the rod, the occasional dagger had all been used to cut and train and condition him into the rat that he was today, to break him and turn him into the slave that they wanted. That Florus wanted. There was someone lashing out in there, someone -

"Worthless. What is this? What is this blasted food?"

Anastus's eyes widened, his breathing sped up. The urge to flee was almost overwhelming, his hands shaking and his body trembling. He wanted to -

No. Forward. A step. Just one step. He...he was stronger now. He could -

THUMP! Another hit, a soft cry.

"I said, what is this?! What do you call this fucking stuff?!"

He held his hand to his face, a fearful memory of being beaten just like that coming back. Florus, the first day. Breaking him, keeping him in chains, his arms over his head, fists against his stomach, his chest, his face. A black eye, a half-broken nose. He remembered. He felt it, almost, felt it with each thump, each crack of fist against flesh that he heard from the kitchen.

He wanted to run. He couldn't run. He couldn't. He -

One step!

Shouting at himself, forcing himself, made him take the first step. The second was easier, and the third easier still. By the sixth, he was running, and that was how he entered the kitchen.

He had a split second to see the bulldog - some rough underling of one of the nobles, no doubt - looming over Isay and Kir. Young Kir had thrown himself over Isay, the older rat's face already a mess of bruises. It didn't matter that the two rats were bigger, more muscular, even taller than the bulldog; all that mattered was that they had been trained, trained to submit to the force of those above.

Anastus didn't even know what he was doing. All he knew was that fear and rage were building in him in equal measure, and that he needed to let it out. There was only one target, one acceptable thing.

The world went red as his fist came down on the bulldog's head, and it stayed that way for a long time. Soft, meaty pulps and punches echoed through his ears, and each one sparked the memories of the beatings all over again. He felt his fingers going slimy, felt the claws on the end of his hands doing something...something else...

"Anastus...Anastus!"

Two pairs of arms, almost as strong as his, grabbed him and pulled him back. A pot of water, cold as could be, was thrown at him, soaking him to the skin, and he gasped for breath, his eyes going wide.

All at once, the world came back. He stared at the cooks, whipping his head around after. Where was the bulldog? Where was -

There. At the other side of the room. There...in a puddle of his own blood.

Anastus's jaw dropped, his eyes went wide as he saw the flesh beaten from the other man's face, his wrinkled skin pulled free of his jaws, his ears ripped clean off of his head. Bones were broken, teeth shattered. One eye was completely gone, the hole filled with a jelly-like mess.

He looked at his hands, saw the red in the brown, the gore against his fingers. Anastus looked at himself, looked at the body, and then leaned over and threw up.

"Oh thank god, he didn't like it," Isay muttered.

No, he did not. For all the anger that he'd let loose, for all the fear that had been running through him, he didn't like that at all. The sight of the dead body, the rank odor of the blood and more running along the floor -

More retching followed, and so did more of the contents of his stomach.

Kir helped Isay to a chair while he emptied his guts, and Anastus finally stopped when his stomach felt empty of not just the previous day's food, but the theoretical filling of tomorrow's, as well. He struggled to get to his feet, and then settled to just getting to his knees.

"Ugh..."

"Sorry," Isay grunted. "You...you shouldn't have..."

"It's done..." He shivered. "It's done, and it's...it's not going to be the last time."

"..."

"Did you get the..."

"No," Kir said, shaking his head. "We got...distracted earlier, and then he showed up. We were going to add it at the last second, just in case, but..."

"Damn." Anastus groaned. "Not good..."

"Are we doomed?" Kir asked.

"Not yet. If you can...if you possibly can, get the potions, and your...seed...in there. I know it's going to be gross and hard, but...but do it if you can. I'll see what else we can do."

After a few more false starts, he managed to get to his feet. Groaning and wobbling, he grabbed the body of the bulldog by its shoulders, pulling it out the door and doing his best to limit the blood spatter that was coming from the head. It wasn't that successful, but he could at least keep it from messing up everything.

Just get it outside...then...then seal the doors...

Lidochka was going to do her performance, probably squirt for the audience. If they were lucky, then someone would get hit with it, ingest it, want her. That would be a start, but it would be far from enough. He needed to get the potion to the other rat slaves in the household, spread the muscle around. The doors would hold for a time, but if they didn't move quickly...

Damn...I just...this could have been peaceful...I didn't want this...

The body spurted another gush of blood, as if to mock him for the idea of something this big ever going peacefully.

The End