The ruined Karaks of the Skaven are legion. They are, as a whole, uniform: a picture of grotesque, ruined splendor, bringing to mind the memories of fargone heritage even as the skittering of rats and the clattering of their plunder echoes through the stony halls. They are not comfortable places to be for most races; perhaps not even for the Skaven themselves.

But this Karak was different. Yes, the Ratkin walked its halls as so many others, but the halls were cleaned and washed and well-maintained. It was a place that was, if not brimming with grandeur, certainly a spot that persons of most species would find accommodable. The Stormvermin who patrolled these passages boasted weapons and armor of runic bronze, and the lesser Skaven who skittered about were draped in clean, untattered cloth of decent wear and make. And when they chittered to one another in their high, squeaking tongue, it lacked the rapaciousness that so characterized their race. There was a true sense of brotherhood in these halls.

It was not only the clothing of these creatures that was outside the norm. They were fat, all of them; plump and well-rounded, wielding the sort of weight that comes from living a satisfied and well-lived life. As they scurried to and fro about their business, their fat jiggled as they walked. Their genitals, too, were sizable; round, luscious balls and thick penises. The Stormvermin were particularly well-equipped, and their packages were looked on by the other Skaven with a mixture of interest and envy.

But even more curious was that any creature who looked closely at this Karak’s occupants would have seen something astonishing: Skaven females. Not the enormous, bloated Rat Mothers that were the secret to their race’s ever-expanding hordelike numbers, but true females who walked upright and clothed themselves and spoke Queekish as readily as any of their kin. These creatures were as rotund as the other Skaven in the keep, though their roundness was not only fat; they were fertile and [i]pregnant[/i] with small broods and seemed happy with their state.

Despite all of this, however, none of the creatures in the Karak could match the size of Ska Bloodtail. The former Right Paw of Queek Headtaker was absolutely massive, far too big to move; his huge belly was the size of nearly a dozen lesser Skaven put together, and his cheeks plumped out, the black-furred flesh nearly swallowing his grinning snout and teeth. The rat’s thick trunk of a tail snaked behind him, and his arms and legs were plump blobs of fat with the fleshy protrusions of his hands and feet just visible if you knew where to look. Resting atop his massively bloated belly was a chest that was thick and plumped, and poking out from underneath him was a thick pair of fertile-looking balls, bigger and plumper than usual, and a pale, fleshy penis that looked a symbol of virility despite the largeness surrounding it.

No one could look at Ska Bloodtail without being impressed by his sheer hugeness. The Skaven was massive and gave off a sense of largeness without disgust; his was a proud hugeness, a confident obesity, and his plump belly and swollen balls and well-groomed fur brought to mind symbols of fertility and power. Ska was no slob. He was a new kind of Skaven ideal, a well-groomed noble blob.

Ska’s fur was sleek and impeccable, and though he had long since lost the ability to clean himself, he had little to worry about. This unusual Karak had a veritable horde of servants ready to do his bidding. Each of the rats who attended to Ska were plump in their own way, an imitation of his hugeness, and as they skittered about their lord, brushing his handsome dark fur and chittering amongst themselves, they also took the time to pamper him. They fed him succulent grapes one by one, spooned ladlefuls of honey into his mouth, and they also gave his paws tender massages and gently kneaded his fat, making it roll over and about to their touch. The females who were with brood were bearing [i]his[/i] children, and more than once a lady Ratkin made her way to his proud penis and enjoyed herself with it; not long after both of them found enjoyment, Ska noticed that his female attendants found their bellies swelling in a different sort of way. Ska rumbled good-naturedly at all the attention which his attendants lathered on him. He could remember, not so long ago, when his life had been far[i],[/i] far harder…

---

When Ska woke in the room, he hissed at the unfamiliarity. This was a Karak he had never seen before. He found himself stripped of his armor, completely bare—and yet, despite his vulnerability, he had been bandaged and treated with care and delicateness.

It all seemed highly unnatural.

The Fangleader didn’t have long to wait, though. Soon enough, the chamber opened. The Skaven that poured in were different than the kind he was used to, and of an unfamiliar clan. He regarded them with hostility and contempt. Yet, as he studied them more, he was astonished. They were fat, and would make for poor combatants, yet the fact that their clan could keep them so well-fed was a sign of the kind of prosperity he had seen only rarely. They were well-groomed, without dirt or blood or snags in their fur, and Ska found with shock (and no small amount of arousal) that their genitals were on display and much bigger than the norm.

Before long, the unfamiliar brood parted to make way for their leader. He was a Grey Seer unlike any that Ska had ever seen before: his ashen fur smooth and well-trimmed, his horns clean and polished. But most noteworthy was the Seer’s build. The newcomers were all fat in some shape or form, but this creature was a creature of total largeness. He had an immense potbelly, a massive round thing he cradled with his right paw as he walked. With its oblong shape and surprisingly firm-looking build, the Grey Seer didn’t look fat so much as he looked [i]pregnant;[/i] not hugely swollen like the Rat Mothers that Ska was used to, but pregnant like the females of the man-things, a gravid greatness that jutted in front of him like the prow of a great ship. Like the rest of the foreign clan, it was hard for Ska to see the Seer’s bigness as anything other than a sign of prosperity and comfort.

“Tell-speak Ska your name,” he uttered, and the Seer looked at him with a surprising richness.

“Long have we heard-heard stories of Ska Bloodtail,” he replied. “This one’s name is Morskrit.”

Ska narrowed his eyes. A Seer named after the green moon which rained its favor on the Skaven? Neither the name nor the clan was familiar, but their plumpness indicated they were prosperous. Altogether, these were portentous signs indeed.

“You will free-free Ska immediately!” he impelled. The strange Skaven chittered in response, and the Grey Seer only smiled unthreateningly at him.

“Ska is no captive,” he said, “and can rush-leave whenever he wishes. But Morskrit begs Ska to sit-stay. Life in this ruin is safe and comfortable, yes-yes!”

Rising to his feet, Ska leered threateningly at the other Skaven, who all shied away. Armor or no, he [i]was[/i] prime Stormvermin, and an intimidating customer. “Comfortable indeed,” he spat. “Morskrit looks-seems fat like the soft man-things. Any Skaven would feel shame at such bigness!”

But Morskrit looked neither fearful of Ska’s outburst not perturbed. “Yes-yes,” he laughed, rubbing his enormous belly, “this is true—Morskrit is big for a Skaven! But this bigness is a gift.” At that, the Skaven surrounding him all perked up, muttering amongst themselves happily.

Ska was suspicious. “What gift?”

“A new master,” Morskrit said. “Secret and unknown, but powerful, yes-yes! Should we aid-serve the new master, showered we are with riches and safety and bounteous plenty! Our bigness is a sign of our master’s kindness!”

The Grey Seer’s sheer enthusiasm was hard to deny, and Ska found himself strangely swept up in the other rat’s euphoric fervor. When Morskrit gestured for him to walk, Ska followed along, their voices echoing through the halls.

“Found Ska in the City of Pillars, my clan did,” Morskrit said. “Felt-felt pity for the great Stormvermin, wounded and delirious on the cold and unforgiving stone.”

Yes… now that Morskrit mentioned it, Ska reflected that he had been wounded and collapsed in the City of Pillars. It had been hectic… it was a miracle he had survived at all.

A thought suddenly pressed on him, heavy like a cave-in. Was it to this Morskrit he owed his life?

“Our master has praise for Ska Bloodtail. We were told to help-save Ska, and take him to our Karak, a place of safety.”

Well, that answered that question. 

“Why this?” Ska asked suspiciously.

“The new master is generous,” Morskrit replied, “and has need of a strong Stormvermin like Ska Bloodtail to lead… and to sire a new breed of ratlings!”

They turned into another low chamber and Ska was stopped dead in his tracks. Inside the chamber were Skaven [i]females,[/i] but they were mobile and intelligent, each of them murmuring in Queekish at the sight of the newcomer. Some of them looked pregnant.

“The blessings of our new master will give-give us a life of bountiful pleasure, of excess, of lusciousness!” Morskrit crooned. “No more are the Rat Mothers needed with such fertility. It shall be a new age for the Skaven! And you are to be part of it, Ska Bloodtail. Yes-yes! Our new master has designs for you!”

Ska looked back and forth between the Grey Seer and the round, grinning females before him. Never had he thought he would see such sights! And despite everything, Ska felt himself coming around to the idea. He was the favored Right Paw of Queek Headtaker… but what had that earned him but a probable death in the City of Pillars? This strange clan had rescued him and now they were promising Ska a life of luxury and pleasure. And really, what more could any Stormvermin have dreamed of?

“Ska accepts,” he hissed, excitement shining in him like Warpstone. “To a new future beneath a grand new master!”

Cradling his belly, Morskrit looked on in delight. “Yes-yes! Serve you shall! Now, Ska Bloodtail, we shall ready-make your nightly feast… the first of many! In the meantime, perhaps you can breed-breed these needy females.”

One of the female Skaven, her plump curves promising fertility and good health, stared lustily at him, and Ska could feel his cock starting to stand at the ready. No need to tell [i]him[/i] twice[i].

---[/i]

The memory washed over Ska as he returned his attentions to the present day. By now he had just finished a sumptuous meal, lying sidewise. The mountain of his fat was gently spilled across the well-kept floor of the keep, and Ska’s various servants were massaging and kneading his fat and grooming him. He found himself bruxing with delight, his teeth grinding against each other as he luxuriated in the sensation.

Padded footfalls announced a new arrival. Morskrit was here. The Grey Seer’s belly was even bigger and fatter than before. “Good-good,” he said, enjoying the sight of Ska’s vastness. “Ska Bloodtail is coming along, yes. Large and fat.”

Normally the appellation ‘fat’ would have rubbed Ska the wrong way, but now he was content in his new role. He murmured his satisfaction and Morskrit continued.

“Our hugeness is a sign of favor from the one we now serve.” He patted his own belly for emphasis. “Ska has grown huge-huge. Surely a sign of divine favor!” Morskrit broke off for a moment before continuing slyly: “Ah, I see that Ska is pleased at the thought.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was getting out. Ska could feel his cock standing erect from its sheath, shown off to the world. The touch of his servants against his soft fat… it was simply divine!

“Yes-yes,” Morskrit continued, trailing around Ska’s vastness until he was at his face, “Morskrit wonders if Ska might be willing to play-play.” At that, the Seer mashed his own belly right up in Ska’s face, the plumpness squishing pleasantly against Ska’s rotund cheeks. Ska chuckled playfully back, groaning when his servants kneaded his fat [i]just[/i] right.

With Morskrit so close, Ska could smell the other rat’s arousal—not that he needed any hint, since Morskrit’s own erection was on full display. So that was what he meant by play? Well… considering how Morskrit had introduced him to this wonderful new life, and considering that he was feeling particularly satisfied, Ska thought it only right to indulge him.

Opening his fat-padded cheeks, he took in Morskrit’s cock, relishing on the weight of the rat’s member against his tongue. Bobbing his neck—slowly, thanks to the layers of fat cushioning it—he was able to give Morskit head. The Seer arched his back and keened with delight.

“Servants!” he commanded. “Ska Bloodtail has our master’s favor. [i]Praise[/i] him!”

They scurried to activity at the Seer’s direction, some of them diving in to embrace and massage Ska’s enormous belly while others attended to his swollen, cushy balls. Their attentions were long, luxurious, and lustful, and the rhythm of their touch set Ska’s excitement peaking even higher. He began bobbing his head harder, lathering Morskrit’s cock with his tongue as their attendants continued worshipping him. Before long, one of the attendants approached Ska’s own cock and, in imitation of what Ska himself was doing, took the Stormvermin’s member into his mouth. They quickly fell into a unified pattern, each of them giving head at a like tempo; when one bobbed up the other bobbed down, and then they reversed their direction. Ska was in absolute euphoria, both giving and receiving head at the same time—every bob and lick he gave to Morskrit was rewarded in turn a second later by the servant.

More familiar weight was pressing up against him—the fertile, fecund females had arrived, kneading pleasure into Ska while offering praises to the mighty rat who had filled them with brood. Around them, some of the servants and Stormvermin had fallen in with each other. Blowjobs and ruttings and pawings were taking place all throughout the chamber. Joyful cries in Queekish filled the room, and every action was accompanied by the jiggling of fat. Before long, some of the servants found themselves spent, and it wasn’t long before their leader followed suit.

Bracing himself with one hand sinking into Ska’s plush fat, Morskrit was panting. His cock was hard in Ska’s mouth, and the Stormvermin felt the Seer pulsing; Morskrit’s voice carried high as he came, his hot spunk washing down Ska’s throat. Ska swallowed it all and found himself proud that he was still hungry for more.

“Well—done,” Morskrit said, tongue lolling for breath between words. “Favored servant of our—master—fertile and proud[i]—”[/i]

The words made Ska bloom with praise and smugness. He was the biggest Skaven in the keep by a high margin, and evidently the most virile as well.

“Such triumph is deserving of a reward. To the baths,” Morskrit managed to get out. The various attendants gathered around Ska and, with mighty effort, began to roll his hugeness to the baths. Even as they rolled, Ska’s erect penis was still on display, a testament to his ferocious fertile prowess.

---

As Morskrit stalked away, confidently holding his jutting belly and still glowing from the blowjob that Ska gave him, one of the guards rushed up. “Grey Seer!” the Stormvermin cried. “Intruders come to take-take the Karak! It is Queek Headtaker—and the Red Guard!”

Though the guard seemed perturbed, Morskrit felt there was nothing worth worrying about. “As foreseen,” he said. “Fret-worry not. Our master has plans for Queek. Big, [i]big[/i] plans.”