In a small hut, in a big forest, lived an otter.  Now, this was a bit strange on its own.  Mossflower was home to many creatures, but most of the more civilized, or at least nicer ones, tended to reside in the Abbey or one of the villages.  Vermin always preferred solo victims, so living in a group would prevent attacks that a lone critter would be open to.  That all said, it made Quinn’s living situation that much more strange.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t the only thing strange about him.  While most of his kind enjoy more aquatic professions, be it fishing, sailing, or even piracy, he had a far more... esoteric alchemy!  Well, no magic or ‘lead into gold’ nonsense, just common medicine and treatment making.  Sure, alchemy probably isn’t the most accurate term, but the otter saw it in a book and couldn’t resist using it for himself.  Gives it a mystical air, even if it’s just mixing a simple salve.

The inside of the hut was a single room, a bed sitting near a wall, with the blanket left in a pile.  Near the back was where most of the work was done.  A shelf, piled high with labelled jars and boxes, holding ingredients for whatever may be made.  Some are scattered on the work table, empty or close to it.  Much of the walls, the parts not with full shelves, are covered in masks, all fashioned after various beasts and creatures.  Quinn always had a fascination with them and, if the mood struck him, would wear one as he worked or lazed about, giving a fair few unlucky visitors a fright.

Today wasn’t one of those days however.  With a jolly bounce as always, he moves about the hut, moving containers from place to place.  Seeing as it was a bit of a slow day, cleaning up was only natural.  His home could get quite messy, so a regular cleanup was always welcome.  

It’s not too long, however, before his tidying up is interrupted by a pounding at the door.  Setting the jars in his arms down, he heads to answer it.

Waiting there is something a bit unexpected.  A ferret, holding his side, a look of desperation in his eyes.  “Please,” he says, clearly in pain, “Y-you gotta help me.  I know I’m just some vermin trash, but I’ll pay you back, I swear!  Just help me...”

Quinn knew about these horrible vermin, having heard tales of the cruelty some are capable of, but that only made him stick to his ideals more.  The belief that, regardless of species, everyone is good.  So long as they were kind to him, he would give his medicine to them, and this was no exception.

“Come in, please.” he says, taking the mustelid’s free arm over his shoulder and leading him inside, lying him on his bed.  Dashing off to the back, he collects a few supplies and a sort of first aid kid, and dashes back.  The ferret whines, red managing to leak out around his hand, coloring the sheets beneath him darker and darker.  “Here, roll over,” Quinn says, hands softly pushing him to lay on his unharmed side.  The vermin reluctantly moves his hands away, showing the damage.

And what damage it is.  A gash sliced into him, a bit too jagged to be done by a blade.  A claw perhaps?  Not that it would matter, the otter never liked to pry too much into personal business.  Biting his lip, Quinn inhales sharply, “Okay, we have to clean this first, okay?”  Despite the rather dire situation, he keeps his voice calm and soft.

“R-right.” the ferret responds, slowing his breathing down as he tries to relax.  The composure is lost a bit as the otter presses a wet piece of cloth to the wound.  “F-fuck!” he hisses, toes curling as he tenses up.

“Good good, now, this is going to hurt, okay?”  Taking a breath, as though it would hurt him too, he opens a jar filled with a salve, a regular disinfectant he kept for such occasions.  Scooping some out, he begins to spread it on the wound.  As expected, the ferret lets out a shout, his wound burning with pain as the disinfectant gets to work, “You’re doing good, friend.  Now we just have to bandage you up, okay?  Here, stand.”

Moving the jar and kit aside, he picks up the male, holding his arm across his shoulder for support.  With bandage in hand, he slowly wraps it around him, taking a few passes to cover the entire thing.  Once done, he ties it off in a knot.  “There.  You may prefer to stay here for a while.  I wouldn’t want you to get hurt again, no?”

“Right, thanks.” he says, wincing as he pokes at his covered wound.  “Ain’t the first time I’ve gotten fucked up, and certainly isn’t the worst.”  He forces a laugh, slapping the otter on the back.  At this point, now that the pain is a bit more dulled, he notices his savior’s attire, or moreso lack of it.  Only seeming to be clad in sort of loincloth, looking similar to a skirt hanging low with simple undergarments.  Even for him that was far less than the norm!  A pair of pants with a weapon holster on a belt was his minimum; a top is far too irritating to deal with, what with his lengthy body.  “Oh, and uh,” he says, realizing a very glaring misstep, “Name’s Ragclaw.”  

“Quinn.”

Pleasantries finally exchanged, only one thing remained.  Well, for Ragclaw anyways.  “So, eh, how much?”

“How much?” the otter responds quizzically.

“Y’know, payment?” he clarifies, befuddled.

“Oh!” he laughs, “None needed.”

The ferret, unsurprisingly, doesn’t take it well.  “You expect me to believe that?” he laughs. “Nobody does something like that without expecting SOME kinda compensation!”  Looking him over again, a devious thought crosses his mind, sharp teeth showing in a devilish grin. “Or maybe a reward for being so kind to a stranger~”

“Please, you don’t need to do any—” His humbleness is cut off as Ragclaw suddenly presses himself against him, a sultry look in his eyes.

“Oh c’mon, Quinn.  I’m sure you don’t get may suitors so far out here~  Lemme just help you... release the pressure~”  His hand gropes at Quinn’s crotch, feeling a certainly sizable tool hidden beneath the layer of fabric.

“R-Rag, you don’t have to—”

The ferret shushes him with his free finger, “Shhh, let ol’ Ragclaw take care of ya.”

Pushing the otter softly, he sits him down on the bed, getting down on his knees in front of him.  “Now let’s see what you’re packin’, ye?”  Slowly, he tugs the skirt off, throwing it aside as he pulls the underwear off as well, eyes widening at what was hidden.

Almost as thick as his arm, almost as long too! The otter’s face turns beet red as Ragclaw marvels at his shaft.  “Deary me, you’re big as hell!” Ragclaw laughs, holding the massive, still soft cock in his paws.  Leaning down, he drags his tongue over it, drawing an embarrassingly whiny moan from the flustered Quinn.  Chuckling, he lets his hands grope and slowly stroke it, coaxing the length to grow to its full, hard size.

“M-my word…” Quin stutters out.  It was true, he hadn’t had a lay in who knows how long, but some vermin he’d just met?  If it wasn’t happening right now, he’d think it was insanity!

Sliding down, the ferret, sticks his nose into the otter’s hefty sack, sniffing his sweaty scent before lapping at them, suckling at his full balls.  His hands, meanwhile, continue to work at the thing before them, rubbing slowly up half.  Starting slow was always better, and drawing it out made it so much more fun.

Tongue lapping at the sack, he drags it up the shaft until reaching the tip, almost at the top of its owner’s belly.  Taking a deep breath, Ragclaw opens wide, sliding the tip into his warm, waiting maw.  Quinn, unsurprisingly, quite vocally responds.  “G-god, YES,” he cries out, hips bucking.  He needed this so desperately, and this only made that more clear.  His hands caress the mustelid’s head, lightly holding him on his shaft.

Ragclaw grins, slowly sliding himself down on Quinn’s member.  He was no stranger to sucking someone off.  He’d had plenty of practice, but this one?  Shit, he’d be lucky to get half down!  Starting to get to work, he begins to bob his head over the tip, pre seeping from it as he works his way down, the sweet taste only pushing him more.

Focusing is a bit hard, however, as his own member makes itself known, tenting his loose trousers rather lewdly.  Blindly fiddling, he manages to get them off to reveal his own cock.  With it no longer restrained, he slips his hands back up, stroking what parts he cannot fit into his own mouth.

“R-ragclaw!” the otter whines, hands pushing down on his head, hips bucking.  His heavy balls bounce upwards, slapping the ferret.  “P-please, I’m so close…”

Taking it in stride, he redoubles his efforts and, taking a risk, Ragclaw dives down further, gagging as the massive shaft penetrates him deeper, a thick bulge starting to show in his throat.  Despite it all, he manages to keep it down, still bobbing his head as he strokes what is left with one hand, the other feverishly jerking his own painfully hard member.

“A-Ahh!!” Quinn cries, pressing Ragclaw’s head down as he begins to cum.  And cum he does!  A torrent of his sticky seed floods the poor vermin, trickling out around his maw as he swallows as fast as he can.  The sheer volume is admirable, his belly starting to swell from it all as the salty cum continues to flow.  Each shot reverberates through the otter’s body, his balls contracting and squeezing out each thick rope.

Unable to swallow any more, Ragclaw yanks the cock out of his maw, letting the remaining shots shower down on him, painting his creamy fur with the white seed.  The mix of the taste lingering in his mouth, the unmistakable scent of sex, and his own need finally reaches its peak in him as he shoots his own load, nowhere near the size of his partner.  After a couple more shots from the both of them, their orgasms taper off, leaving them both panting with exhaustion.

“Fuckin’ hell,” the ferret says, falling into a sitting position on the messy floor, “So, ‘s that a good enough payment?” he says with a laugh, laying down.

“Well normally I don’t ask to be paid for my services,” Quinn smiles, “But maybe I should start if they all pay like you do~”  Laughing softly, he lays back, staring up at the ceiling before dozing off in a post-orgasmic sleep.

As he awakens a while later, he looks around.  Ragclaw is gone, and in his place a note.  Picking it up, it reads:

“Quinn,

	Thanks for the help.  I’ll make sure to send my pals your way if they need your ‘service’.  And don’t worry, they pay very nicely.”

With a chuckle, he places it onto a shelf.  If more would be coming, he’d need to prepare...