The Girls

Some guy's girlfriend gets turned into a trashy rat girl in the Big Apple. Maybe not quite the Big Apple you're thinking of, but still. Explicit.

Rosa leaned against the railing in front of the windows. The city skyline spilled out on either side of her. She gave me the biggest, toothiest smile she could manage. I held her phone up, leaned back, and tapped the screen. There was a soft shutter-click.

I passed her phone back. "All right. I'm ready to climb back down," I said.

She gave me a confused look, the smile still stuck to her face. "What, you don't want a shot of us together?" she asked.

Before I could tell her she shouldn't be giving her phone to a total stranger, she'd slipped by me and passed it off to a wolf in a track jacket, then jogged back over to me.

Rosa hugged me tight around the waist. The side of her head pressed against my chest. I took a breath, put my arm around her, and tried to smile as big as she did.

***

Standing at the stern of the ferry, Rosa snapped one last picture of the Apple of Liberty, pale green in the afternoon sun. She turned around. The harbor wind pushed back her brown hair, save for a strand or two clinging to the corner of her lips.

"Here," she said, offering me her phone again. "Take a look."

I pressed my shoulder against hers so we could look at her pictures together. There were shots of us underneath the wall of clocks at Times Station. There was one of Rosa pointing up at the impeccably perpendicular corner of the Madison Square Building, and then a matching one of her at the top pointing down. There were shots of the post-modern floral arrangements at the Metropolitan Garden of Art. There were even shots of the hot dogs we'd had for lunch.

I gave her phone back. "That is a lot of photos."

Rosa stuck her phone in her jeans pocket and tugged her flannel shirt tighter against the thick harbor breeze. "We don't get to go on a lot of vacations," she said. "I want to make sure I remember all of this."

I did too. My hand rested on her waist and we leaned together against the wind.

"Hey," she said.

I looked into her eyes.

With a grin, she nodded toward the Apple of Liberty. "I guess that's why they call it the Big Apple, huh?"

I pursed my lips and sighed, which only made Rosa smile brighter.

***

On our way back from the docks, we ate dinner at a tiny pizza place. The sun came rippling in off a skyscraper's windows and lit our booth bright and golden.

"So what do you want to do next?" I asked. I spun my straw through the ice in my cup.

"I'm kinda touristed out right now," Rosa said. "Plus, it's a bit late. But we could go find a play to watch!"

I nodded. "Last minute tickets might be tricky, though. We could buy some for tomorrow once we're back at the hotel."

"Oh, yeah, that works," she said. For a moment, she stared out the window. "How about we check out the shopping district?"

"Sure, that might be neat." I smiled. I didn't mind seeing what the shops were like here in the city. Rosa probably just wanted to go window shopping, too. The most I'd ever seen her spend on her appearance was fifty dollars for a pair of Converses.

As we got up, Rosa grabbed a few dollars from her wallet and tucked them under her paper plate.

***

The shops were all up on Grand Central Avenue, about ten blocks away. Not far enough to make the subway worth it, but still a walk. A car rolled by on the road every so often, but aside from that, it was quiet, for the city—either late enough that traffic slowing down, or just far enough from the highways. Rosa led the way by a half-step, making it easier for us to slide around passing pedestrians.

"Hey!" someone shouted.

Rosa didn't even notice. I figured it must have been for someone else. We kept walking, but then the voice called out again.

"Hey, I'm talking to you, dumbasses!"

We both stopped. Just ahead of us on the sidewalk was a gray rat, her arms folded over her chest. One of her shoulders was propped up against the wall. In her purple tank top and tiny shorts and freshly curled black hair, she looked as if she'd just crawled out of a dive bar. Her sharp city accent made her voice sting.

"You're going shopping, right?" she asked. Before either of us could say anything, she continued. "Don't bother with those rich douchebags up on Grand Central. We got the best shit right here, at the Bitch Boutique."

The rat jabbed a purple-painted claw at the sign above her. Rosa and I both looked up. In neon-traced letters, it said 'B*tch Boutique'. I was impressed that they could get away with that name, even with the asterisk. I looked over at Rosa. For some reason, she was all grins.

"I think we should just keep going," I said.

"You are literally zero fun," Rosa said. "This is cool! I bet this is like that restaurant where the staff insults all the customers."

The rat clicked her tongue against her teeth and sneered. "It's not a bit. I'm calling you dumbasses cause it's true."

"This feels shady," I said.

Rosa bapped my side with the back of her hand. "Stop being weird about this. I'm gonna check it out. You can stay out here if you want." She turned and headed for the front door of the B*tch Boutique.

"Rosa, wait—" I said, taking a few steps forward. I reached out to grab her arm, but I wasn't fast enough.

The gray rat slipped a hand around Rosa's shoulder and cracked an incisor-heavy grin. "Wow. You gotta be a dyke, cause your boyfriend's a huge pussy."

Rosa bit back a snicker, then waved to me. The door swung open, then swung shut, taking her with it.

Damn it. I stood there, feeling dumb and useless. I started looking around, like someone passing by might offer to go fetch Rosa out of the trashy rat's boutique. But why would anyone bother to help some random guy on the street? I had to do this myself.

Besides, maybe everything would be just fine. Maybe being in such a big city was just making me paranoid.

I stopped pacing, turned around, took a deep breath, and pushed my way through the door of the B*tch Boutique.

The colors and noise struck me both at once. The clothes on the racks were some of the gaudiest, trashiest things I'd ever seen, from hot pink hoop earrings to purple-and-orange leopard-print leggings. Heavy, uncut club music pumped over speakers strung up in the corners of the store. I wanted to squint and plug my ears at the same time.

"Rosa!" I shouted, ducking around the racks of low-cut bras. Faux gold jewelry clinked and clattered as I brushed by a display. I caught a glimpse of brown hair above the spandex miniskirts. And then, I found her.

Rosa was plastered up against the wall by three gray rats. One of them was the one who'd dragged her in here, and then there was one with a gelled mohawk and combat boots, and one in a snug, strapless red dress.

The punk rat held Rosa's shoulders against the wall, while the dressy one shoved a small bottle between her lips. The dark liquid began to pour down Rosa's throat. She gulped, then blinked. Her shoulders slumped. Her head bobbed backwards and her eyelids fluttered.

"Hey!" I shouted.

All three rats turned and looked right at me. Maybe shouting was a bad idea.

"Tina, grab the cocksucker," the punk rat said, keeping a tight hold on my drugged girlfriend.

Tina was the rat I'd met on the street. She turned toward me with a dangerous grin. My instinct to run kicked in. I only made it a few steps. Her clawed hand caught me by the wrist and wrenched my arm behind my back. In a tangle of gray fur and naked tail, I hit the floor. My hands were pinned behind my back. A knee dug into my spine.

"You're late to the party," Tina said. "So just sit back and watch."

It would have been heroic to throw the club rat off, toss the others aside, and haul Rosa out of the boutique. It would have been, but I could barely move my head to see what was happening. No way was I getting free.

The dressy rat lifted the empty bottle from Rosa's lips. Her head sagged forward and she panted softly. Her nostrils flared. She batted her eyelids, like she was fighting to make her eyes focus. She wrinkled her nose, and then, with a small pop, it shot forward, stretching into a small snout. The force of her snout made her head bob backwards. New whiskers wiggled in the air, thin and faint.

"Um, guys," Rosa said, her words uneven, "What the fff-fuck are you doing?" 'Fuck' fell from her lips with a full-body quiver, like it had sent a jolt of electricity down her spine. Her panting grew deeper and her eyelids drooped..

"We're helping you, dumbass. Right, Maria?" the punk rat said.

"Yeah!" the rat in the dress chirped. "You said you wanted to look hotter. How are we supposed to make you a hot bitch without giving you a makeover?"

Rosa blinked blearily and licked at her fatter lower lip. Her fingers curled until her new-grown claws touched her palms. Behind her, a bare tail had snaked its way out of her pants, and swayed side to side against the wall. "Oh, right," Rosa said. She swallowed dryly. "I wanna be a hot b-bitch!" Her knees pressed together and her head jerked back. A flush of color came to her cheeks. A little whine left her throat before her body relaxed again.

"Oh yeah?" The punk rat raised her eyebrows. "Maria, get the shampoo. This slut needs a tan."

The most I saw of Maria as she strutted by me were her cherry red heels. I tried to twist my head to follow her, but she was soon out of sight.

"Rosa, this isn't you! Don't let these rats—yerrgh!" The knee burrowing into my spine cut me off.

Even so, Rosa must have heard me. She squinted. Her ears perked up above her hair, cupped and wide. Her snout was thicker and longer now, more like a true rat's, and her front teeth were growing larger to fit the look. "It's fine," she said, half-slurring her words. "They just wanna make me into a f-ffucking slut." Her thighs squeezed together. "Don't be such a pussy."

The punk rat tugged off Rosa's clothes piece by piece. The buttons of her flannel shirt popped open, her shirt torn off over her head, and her pants dragged down past her ankles. When the rat got to her underwear, she didn't even bother trying to pull them off—her claws sunk into the fabric and snapped her bra and her panties in two.

Maria's red heels clicked back by my head again. She had a bottle of shampoo in hand—the label had been peeled off, and someone had handwritten 'BITCH' on the side in permanent marker.

Both her and the punk rat took a thick glob of shampoo in their hands, then scrubbed Rosa down, from head to toe. Fur poured out across Rosa's body, coming in as a rich shade of brown. The rats combed through it with their claws, leaving her coat silky and gleaming. The hair on her head fell down past her shoulders, spilling from her scalp, and darkened from auburn to black.

With her naked hands and feet, and tall ears, and long snout, Rosa looked like she'd never been anything but a rat. Her mouth hung open and she was panting. Her eyes had glazed over.

"You gonna eat her cunt, Rita?" Maria asked, glancing over at the punk rat.

Rita snorted and folded her arms. "What, just cause I'm butch I got to be the dyke? You eat pussy too."

"I'm not messing up my fucking lipstick—"

"Hey, Rita!" Tina shouted from on top of me. "I'll trade you this asshole for her pussy." She gave me a little push and squeezed an 'oof' out of my throat.

Tina's knee lifted off my back. I tried to squirm free, but not only was Rita stronger than Tina, she was also heavier. She didn't even bother with the knee; she just sat down and pinned me to the floor with her weight.

When I looked back up, Tina was on her knees in front of Rosa. The rat's head was pressed up between her thighs. Rosa, still starry-eyed, took a sharp breath and dug her claws into Tina's hair. Her hips jerked, and her chest swelled, as if some firm force was pushing her breasts outward. They wobbled gently, heavier than before. Then another gasp from Rosa, another buck of her hips, and another small surge forward.

Tina's claws clung to Rosa's hips, sinking into her sides. With each slight bob of Tina's head, there was more soft skin beneath her fingers, more thick hips for her to hold onto. Inch by slow, hot, lapping inch, Rosa was growing a figure more salacious than she'd ever had. Not that she didn't look hot before, but now she had tits and ass thick and obscene enough to be called 'tits' and 'ass'.

The look in Rosa's eyes grew more focused and less dazed. I thought maybe whatever they'd made her drink was wearing off, but then she bared her teeth and said, "Ah, Jesus, you fucking dyke, you're gonna make me cum." It was rough and sharp like the other rats' accents, but underneath the city drawl, I could still hear her voice.

Tina grabbed Rosa tight. Rosa dug her claws against Tina's scalp and pulled. I'd never heard Rosa scream so loud and so shrill. Shuddering, she melted back against the wall. Her ears drooped and she gasped for air. The fur between her spread legs was damp.

Tina rose up to her feet. She brushed her whiskers clean with a finger, and batted back some stray curls of hair. Then she grabbed Rosa's wrist. "C'mon, bitch. You gotta get dressed," she said. Maria grabbed her other arm. Together, they hauled the brown rat (who was still my girlfriend) staggering off toward the back.

Rita didn't move from on top of me. I tried to squirm, but she just leaned more of her weight onto me, and that stopped that immediately.

"I don't get that clothes shit. Who cares what you wear? Just gonna take it off in an hour anyway," Rita said. "Now piercings, those are fucking hot. Tongue studs are my favorite. Think your girl likes 'em?" She bent down to wink at me, then stuck out her tongue. The three steel studs running down the middle glinted at me.

"Rita! Get your dyke ass over here!" one of the rats shouted across the store. She gave me a shove as she stood up, then clomped away on her boots.

It took me a few moments to get my hands underneath me and push myself up. My wrists and shoulders and back popped back into place while I steadied myself on a shelf of stiletto heels. When I could walk again, I found Rosa with the rats, all clustered around the cash register. Two new hoop earrings hung from each of her ears, four in all. Rosa's claws were playing with one of the hoops.

"Hey, look, he's up," Tina said, grinning from behind the counter.

Rita glanced over her shoulder, piercing gun in hand. "About time."

I couldn't think of what to say, so I just said, "Rosa?"

The rich brown-furred rat was perched on a pair of spiked heels and squeezed into a leather skirt that clung to every inch of her hips and ass. Her clothes bared her fur from her waist to her chest. A strappy leather tube top clutched her breasts, held together by a gold ring in the center. Gold, or at least, plastic painted to look like it, dangled from her wrists and clinked when she moved.

Her makeup was thick. Heavy eyeliner drew out the corners of her eyes, while a puff of lighter eyeshadow stood out against her fur. Her eyebrows were stenciled into sharp arches. Red lipstick glistened on her lower lip, and each of her real claws were tipped with fake, glittery, acrylic claws. Her black hair was pulled up and back, fastened into a high ponytail on top of her head.

From the stiletto point of her heels to the predatory grin on her face, she looked every inch a rat bitch. But she was still my girlfriend. I took a step closer.

Rosa stuck her finger into my face, like she was in the middle of a conversation. Without dropping her finger, she grabbed the back of Rita's head and dragged the punk rat down into a messy, rolling kiss. Occasionally, I caught the gleam of one of Rita's tongue studs.

It was only seconds, but it seemed much longer. Rosa pulled back. Rita's studs tapped against her incisors as she drew her tongue back into her mouth. A bit of drool hung on Rosa's lip, until she licked it off.

"Shit...those are nice. But I'm good for now." She turned toward me and dropped her finger. "Told you this place is fun," she told me. She looked back at the other rats with a grin. "This fucking dicklicker didn't want me coming in." They all snickered together.

Okay, this wasn't...too bad. She was still Rosa. She still had her memories. If I could find a way to reverse getting turned into a rat, I could get her back to normal.

I put on a sheepish smile and said, "Yeah, guess I was wrong. But, hey, we can still catch the shops on Grand Central, if we head out now."

Rosa peeled back her lips, wrinkled her snout, and stuck out her tongue. "Ugh. Those stuck-up cunts wouldn't even let me in the door. Besides, do I look like I need some rich-bitch clothes?" Her claws trailed down her hips. The waistband of her skirt slipped a little lower.

I tried not to stare.

"You oughta get out there and slut it up!" Tina said, leaning over the counter with a big grin.

"Go get in touch with your inner rat skank," Maria said.

Rita leaned back, still holding her piercing gun. "There's that strip club between 18th and 19th," she said.

Maria's ears perked up. "Oh yeah, Tails!"

Rosa's eyes widened. Her tail lashed eagerly behind her back. "God, I could use some titties."

Rita rolled her eyes and looked back at Tina. "Really lezzed her up, huh?"

"Nah, don't worry," Rosa told Rita. "I fuck men too. You still got a chance."

There was a little chorus of 'oooh' from the other two rats. Rosa flicked her ponytail, spun on her heel, and clamped her claws around my wrist. "Later, bitches!" she said over her shoulder. As she dragged me out of the B*tch Boutique, she had a big, eager grin on her face—just like the Rosa I knew, but extra ratty.

***

Tails made other strip clubs look like legitimate establishments. The front door was tucked behind a back alley, down a flight of stairs from the street. Between the haze of smoke and the extra-dim lighting, the cracks in the walls were almost invisible. The dancers' chests were higher and tighter than nature had ever intended.

Of course my new rat girlfriend loved it.

About three feet from my face, a slender doe curled around a pole, held up by her hands. Her hooves traced long arcs through the air. Off to my left was Rosa, watching the stripper with an eager gleam in her eyes. I looked sidelong at Rosa's bustline: brown-furred cleavage squeezed back by the leather tube top. Was it a little too firm to be natural? I wanted to reach over and feel for myself...but I didn't want to encourage Rosa's new ratty side.

Instead, I looked back down at the my phone's glowing screen. I scrolled through the search results for 'how to undo rat transformation'. No, I didn't mean 'how to undo raptor transformation'...

A clawed hand smacked my phone into my lap. "The fuck are you doing?" Rosa asked, scooting closer to me. "Do you literally not have a dick?" She looked up at the deer, who was at the moment doing splits along the pole. "Hey, Bambi! This punk told me he thinks that gazelle is the hottest slut in here." She nodded toward the other stage, where a gazelle was working her hips up and down her own pole. "You gonna prove him wrong or what?"

The doe slipped off the pole, walked to the edge of the stage, and took the two twenties Rosa was wiggling between her claws. Her indignantly sultry gaze fixed on me. Lifting a leg, she planted both her hoof and stiletto heel on the seat next to my head, and leaned in so close I felt the white fur of her thigh on my cheek.

I heard Rosa shouting, "Hey, Horns! Bet you can't give me a lap dance better than that bitch." I peered over the deer's leg. Rosa was in front of the gazelle's pole, pointing back towards me.

The doe took my chin and turned my head to face her. Slowly, rolling her hips and her back, she eased her way down onto my lap. She curled her body around me, and bucked to the beat of the music, and leaned back with only her leg hooked around my back to support her.

I stole a glance to my left. Rosa was sprawled out one seat over, with the gazelle poised in her lap, straddling her hips. They fit so well together, leather-clad rat and topless gazelle, that it almost kept me from feeling jealous.

The next time I glanced over, Rosa had one hand around the gazelle's head, holding her in a kiss. The other hand was tucked under the gazelle's thong and moving slowly.

Didn't they usually keep you from touching the strippers?

Something thumped onto the seat next to me—Rosa's phone. She opened one eye to look at me, then nodded toward the gazelle meaningfully. As steadily as I could, I took the phone and snapped a picture of her knuckle-deep in a stripper. Seeing the picture frozen on the screen, the two of them pressed together with the light glinting off Rosa's fake jewelry, made it seem unreal. It could have been a picture off some porn site.

When I tossed Rosa's phone back, she reached out—and then reached right past it. Her hand shoved down into my pants. I felt the sharp brush of her claws, then her warm fingertips closing around me. It wasn't even a minute before I was stiff in her fist.

Her hand slid up and down. Her fingers gripped tighter. I tried not to move too much, to keep it from being obvious in case the doe noticed, but my cheeks were flushed and I couldn't help huffing and groaning under my breath.

Beside me, the gazelle gripped the seat with one hand, and Rosa's shoulder with the other. Her body rocked back and forth. Her bare chest rose and fell deeper and faster. When her back curled, Rosa slipped her hand free from my pants. She grabbed the gazelle's head again, keeping her from calling out. The gazelle's hips jerked and her legs quivered and her eyes glazed over.

And then, a pair of strong paws clamped onto our shoulders and hauled us from our seats.

I guess they do keep you from touching the strippers.

"Sorry!" I blurted over my shoulder.

"I'll suck your dick if you let me stay!" Rosa shouted.

The big doberman heaved both of us out into the sodium light of the alley. I stumbled up against the wall of the stairwell; Rosa clattered on her spiked heels. I expected her to whirl around and call the bouncer a cocksucker, or something. Instead, she was grinning and lashing her tail back and forth like an eager cat.

"Holy shit. We got kicked out of a strip club!" she said.

"You weren't...really going to—" I began to ask.

"I love being alley trash!" Rosa took a deep breath and basked in the streetlight. Its glow made her leather outfit shine like black gold and her fur glisten like copper. She took a moment to heave her top a little higher on her chest and straighten out her skirt. Leaning against the wall, she fished a cigarette and lighter from her cleavage, lit up, and slipped the lighter back between her breasts. One hand lifted the cigarette to her lips. The other slipped underneath her skirt and began rubbing.

Again, I tried not to stare. "That was...'fun', yeah," I said. I pushed myself to smile. "But it's getting late. We should head back to the hotel." Once I got her alone, I could finally see about getting her back to normal.

Rosa rolled her eyes back and sighed happily. She removed her hand from underneath her skirt and sucked her fingers clean. While she dried them off on her fur, she clicked her tongue at me and sneered. "Eat my jizz. This rat's going clubbing. If you wanna jerk off in some fleabag hotel, be my guest."

Her heels clicked off each step as she climbed the stairs back to the alley. Her tail whipped behind her, following the swing of her hips.

If I came along with her, she might think I was encouraging her. But if I left her alone, who knew what could happen? She might get lost. She might go even more native. I took a deep breath, then hurried up the stairs after her.

***

I could have sworn Rosa knew the way to the club. Maybe rat ears were good at picking up the low, rumbling bass, or maybe she could smell the sleaze. It was less sketchy than the strip club, at least.

I posted up at the bar, where I could sit up on a stool and try to keep an eye on Rosa. Or rather, to keep an eye on the pair of pierced ears and the tall ponytail bobbing through the crowd of people.

While Rosa mixed it up on the dance floor, I planned out how I could get her back under control. Lead her back to the hotel room once she was tired, make sure she was sound asleep, then bolt the door. What I'd do from there...well, I still hadn't found a way to undo the whole rat thing, but worst case scenario, I could probably call a hospital.

"Hey!" Rosa shouted over the music, dragging a dazed-looking woman along with her. Her claws clutched the girl's waist and her tail had wound around her leg. "This is Trish," she said. Although Trish was blonde and more narrowly built, in her band tee shirt and roughed-up jeans she didn't look all that different from Rosa as a human. "We're gonna go eat each other out. Wanna come?" Rosa asked.

"No, thanks."

Rosa shrugged, paused long enough to take a selfie of both her and Trish, then smirked at Trish and dragged her off toward the bathrooms.

Ten minutes passed while I sorted out what I'd need to help Rosa get over her rat problem. Twenty minutes on, I still hadn't seen her come back out. I started to get a little worried. At twenty-five minutes since she'd left, I paid for my drink, got up, and made my way back to the bathrooms myself.

As I rounded the corner to the bathroom doors, I saw a brown rat, and for a split second, thought it might be Rosa. But as I came closer, it was clear she wasn't—her black hair was loose around her shoulders, and instead of leather, she was wearing a tee shirt for some band I didn't recognize, torn at the neck to allow more room for her heavy chest. Her jeans were unbuttoned and the edge of her thong was showing.

Why was she familiar? She looked up at me. I looked up at her. Then it hit me. "Trish?" I asked.

"Huh?" She cocked her head at me. Her chest arched outward and her claws slid down through her fur to her crotch. "You want a quick fuck or something?" she asked.

My cheeks flushed. She was rubbing herself pretty vigorously. "No, I'm looking for Rosa," I said.

"Who?"

"The other girl you were with? Ponytail, leather...also a rat?"

Trish curled her knuckles and bit her tongue. "Nnh, yeah, that skank. Real carpet muncher."

To be honest, I wasn't sure whether I wanted her to go into more detail or not. "Where did she go?" I asked.

Trish shrugged a shoulder. She was propped against the wall, panting while she worked her fingers. A thin strip of spandex was all that kept her from flashing me right there. "Said she was gonna fuck in the alley or some shit."

"All right, thanks," I said. Before leaving, I paused and glanced back at her. "Make sure you get home and get lots of sleep tonight," I added.

Trish groaned in response and kept fingering herself. I felt bad leaving her like that, but I'd already lost track of Rosa. There was no way I'd be able to handle two rats at once. I gave her a weak thumbs-up, then headed for the back door.

***

When I slipped out the back door, the first thing I heard was the noise. Heavy growling, the scrape of claws on brick, and the occasional clang of someone's shoe hitting the side of the dumpster.

I held my breath and pressed myself along the wall. I inched quietly along the gravel, one hand brushing against the rusted dumpster. I leaned forward and peered around the corner.

There was Rosa, in all her leather and glittery cheap jewelry. Her hands were planted against the wall, knuckles white. One of her legs was held up high in the air, balancing her weight on the other. She bounced back and forth so vigorously that her top struggled to stay bound around her breasts. Behind her, around her, on all sides of her, was a tiger. His paw held up her leg, his claws dug into her chest, and his shaft—

I ducked back behind the dumpster. I tried to figure out how I felt about this, but I didn't really have a reference for how you're supposed to feel when your girlfriend is a trashy rat getting fucked by a cat that could crush you with one paw.

I could still hear her, though. "Are you a goddamn tabby cat? Do I need to call you Mister Cuddles and put a bell on your collar?" she yelled.

There was an angry snarl from the tiger.

"Then stop fucking me like one and fuck me like a tig—nngh!"

From the clinking and clattering alone, I could imagine her earrings bouncing together. I could imagine her ponytail bobbing behind her, and her naked whip of a tail winding around his waist.

Her gasping got louder. I looked back, just in time to see her hold out a finger toward the tiger's face. "Wait. Fuckin' wait!" she said. With a quick twist of her hips, she lifted her leg from the tiger's paw and dropped down to the ground. She squatted in front of him, took his cock in her hands, spread her mouth wide open, and—

I pulled myself away again, and leaned against the dumpster. I was still struggling to decide if I was jealous or not. Rosa was my girlfriend, but she was also a rat. But she was also my girlfriend...

I froze and held my breath as the heavy crunch of gravel came my way. Tucked into the shadows in the corner, I watched the tiger walk past and swing open the door to the bar. It slammed shut. I waited a few seconds before I moved again.

The cigarette left a trail as Rosa dropped her hand to her side, curling up through the air. She breathed out a cloud of it, letting it fade into the air. The sharp light from above only made her chest stand out more, nothing but curves and shadows and golden-brown fur.

"Rosa," I said, stepping into the light. "Did you just...fuck that guy?"

"Hell yeah! Did you see his cock?" Her eyes widened and she grinned. "He oughta have a license for that thing."

I fought for words, since I wasn't sure what I even wanted to say. "But...I thought..."

"You jealous?" Rosa tipped her head to the side and stepped closer. I looked down at her grinning teeth, long and white. I stepped back. "You worried you're not gonna stand up to the guys I'm fucking?" The back of my head bumped against brick. Rosa moved closer still, penning me in against the opposite wall. Her claws grasped the front of my pants. "Maybe we need to see if you can fuck a rat right."

Rosa pressed up against me. There was silky fur and hot skin and the pressure of her chest against mine. There was a gleam in her eyes, though, and a sneer in her grin.

We were in an alley, practically out in the open, definitely in sight of the door. I couldn't back out, and I couldn't pull her away somewhere else. All I could do was grab her, drag her close, and plant my lips on her muzzle. Her tail flicked up behind her. She pushed down my pants, and my erection slipped free. The night air was warmer than I expected, and the weight of Rosa's stomach was even warmer still. I clenched my teeth and tried not to press against her fur.

"Let's see what you got, pussy," she said. Her lipstick gleamed in the dim. She moved like she'd been having sex in alleyways behind bars for years. Her claws wrapped around my cock, held it up, and guided it between her folds with a firm push of her hips.

I grunted. I thrust up against her. Even if this was behind a bar and not in bed, even if Rosa was taunting me, and even if she had claws to dig into my shoulders now, it didn't feel like having sex with some trashy rat—it felt like having sex with Rosa. She breathed the same, if a bit deeper, and moved the same, if a bit needier, and clung the same, if a bit tighter.

Her hips met mine, matching each thrust force for force. I clutched her around her waist, resting my arm against the curve of her thick ass and the base of her tail. It was like figure was made to grab onto. I drew her tight against me. Each buck of my hips pressed my shoulders against the wall.

Her hand clutched the wall beside my head. She lifted one leg and hooked it around my waist. The zipper down the front of her top strained against her deeper, faster breaths.

"Fuck," she hissed.

I looked into her eyes. They were wide. I put my other arm around her chest. I could feel all her muscles straining against me, pushing back against each thrust. She squirmed and groaned and jerked against my arms.

Rosa bared her teeth. One arm wrapped around my shoulders and dug its claws into my side. The look in her eyes was intense. With just one foot for balance, she threw herself against me. Her naked tail lashed against the backs of her thighs.

"Fuuuck," Rosa said.

I twisted. We rolled along the wall. Now, her ponytail was pinned back against the brick, and I was holding both of us up. She lifted up her other leg, wrapping both of them tight around my waist. With the wall as leverage, she began to thrust herself up and down over my cock. Her eyelids began to flutter.

My skin was flushed and I was sweating. My heart pounded, but the way Rosa tightened her legs and the way her body clenched with every bounce drove me on.

"Just...just fucking jizz already!" Rosa gasped.

I closed my eyes and leaned forward. I felt the heavy bounce of her chest, and the squeeze of her thick thighs around me. I couldn't hold on much longer, but I was trying to make myself last.

"Tell me what you are," I said. I didn't know what I was doing. Maybe I'd heard this in some porno.

"What?" she hissed.

"Tell me what you are," I said again, between my teeth, trying to hold myself back.

Rosa's eyes rolled back and she groaned out loud. Then, fighting for breath, she said, "I'm a skanky rat bitch who really needs to cum right fucking now so—" Her throat tightened and her claws sunk into my back. I felt her body tense around me.

My body clenched, for a moment I was floating, and then I was suddenly very much back on earth, in an alley behind a bar, and in the midst of an orgasm.

Rosa was too busy panting to speak. So was I. Her body flexed against mine, then slowly grew heavy and slumped back against the wall. She put her feet back on the ground and I unwound my arms from around her. My lips were dry. I felt spent.

Once we'd pulled apart and I was hiking my pants back up, Rosa said, "What the fuck. That was...good."

"Guess sex with your boyfriend is pretty good," I said, and let myself grin a little.

Rosa pouted and pushed her skirt back down. She crossed her arms over her chest, and tried to act like I couldn't see the blush on her cheeks underneath her fur. "Rats don't keep boyfriends. You just...have a dick I wanna keep around."

***

It was about three in the morning by the time I half-dragged a drunk, exhausted Rosa back to our hotel room. She mumbled something to me about sucking my dick—I think she thought I was someone else—then passed out on the bed without even taking her shoes off.

I sat down on the other side of the bed, pulled my phone from my pocket, and didn't look at it. Instead, I just watched her for a minute, with her mouth hanging open and her legs askew and her makeup smudged. She looked like she'd had one hell of a time.

And I...kind of did too. I mean, we'd had sex something like four times by then. Even if she was fucking other people now, she still seemed to think of me as...maybe not a boyfriend, but someone important, at least.

I tossed my phone onto the bedside table and lay back next to Rosa. As my eyes slid shut, I wondered...

...did the B*itch Boutique have anything for guys?