The situation, and the mouse involved, proved dynamic still, and in a split moment her snout was nuzzled back against his warm sack. Her nostrils overwhelmed by the male's scent as he pressed her muzzle against him. In an instant she found herself tensing, almost making as if to resist, remembering again in a crucial moment what was at stake.

The musk flooded her senses, and with this male presence, let alone the circumstances behind it, fanned the flames hidden within her. She barely resisted the temptation to push her own paw down to attend to her increasingly needy slit. Breathing heavy in time with her hammering heart, the weasel only barely mustered an answer, her nostrils still deep in his musky fluff.

"Do all male mice... smell? Like this?"

"Aye, us mice are gifted with such a nice scent about us. Even I can't resist stuffing my face between the legs of a male mouse. Take it in while you have the chance, girlie."

It was a crisis for her vermin mind. This pathetic breed of creature, so masculine, domineering. It almost lessened the blow of her loss to him. Almost. Wary of the growing moisture between her legs, she began to carefully lick his fluffy sack again. She knew she had to blow off some of his steam, before he takes her own arousal for an invitation, the male's balls seemingly his favorite subject of attention.

The mouse released his grasp, allowing her more freedom. His paws focusing on petting the female around her ears, almost treating her like a pet, an animal with no mind. Such a fickle thing freedom, so easily taken, so easily given. He wasn't going to let this maiden get off so easily. 

The weasel welcomed the chance to break away, resting her head against his groin, to the side of his erect member, enjoying the attention given to her ears. Nearly forgetting the circumstances of her situation. 

"Remember, girlie. If you bite me, I won't take your virginity with my cock. I'll take it with my blade. Let you bleed out her on the sand. The next few hours would be me and you, my blade, and every single one of your fucking fingers being cut off at each knuckle. I made a deal with you, weasel. Honor it, and I will honor my end. Show me your hospitality. Be a good female for once in your pathetic life."

The weasel shuddered at the threat, nodding in agreement. The thought had crossed her mind, but she knew there'd be no getting away with such an act.

"I'm a weasel of my word," she breathes, drawing back to lick at his length again, working her way upwards once more.

She wants to live, to save herself for better times and better company. She knows what has to be done.

 "I'll believe you once you have my cock down that pretty throat of yours." 

Taking the head of his malehood, she tested sucking at it, fitting it in her mouth, and resting it over her tongue. Set between the two great pairs of mustelid fangs, designed eons ago to rip apart the flesh of such an animal. The weasel taking care not to so much as prick him, loathing the idea of such blunder on her part. The mouse wasn't intimidated by the fangs that fit snugly against his cock. He actually found a sick sense of pleasure from the sight. A predator reduced to a point below their prey. Nothing stirred the mouse as much as a predator did. The female weasel made good on her promise, her inexperience was seldom shown as her maw wrapped around his cock. Such a delicate process needed quite the finesse. The mouse wouldn't have minded her teeth poking his length, not like she could help it. He even secretly enjoyed the tiny amounts of pain. 

His paws continued their work on her ears. Her warm tongue against the bottom of his shaft was quite welcome. It had been a while since the mouse had felt a maw take him, and he wasn't about to ruin what was to come. He left her to her own devices, hoping she'd take the initiative. 

His right paw gently moved down to her cheek, caressing it softly as he looked her in the eyes, a small smile growing upon his lips. Their eyes meet for a moment, the weasel closing hers tightly again amidst the shame that suddenly overtook her. Her focus returned to taking more of his length in her mouth. Tying as far as she could without gagging.

Carefully, then, she repeated the process, slow and methodically, glad for his patience as she was wary of her own possible ineptitude. Uncertainly, she moved herself back, slightly raising her hindquarters and leaning into the mouse, supporting herself with paws on his waist as she continued her slow tribute.

If mice could purr, the equivalent would be the throaty squeak of appreciation the mouse had unwillingly released. The female's efforts more than adequate for the mouse. The movement of her wet maw had his eyes widen in elated bliss. His tapered mouse cock struck the back of her maw, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body. Her delicate tongue cuddling the underside of his shaft like a warm pillow. It was enough to drive any sensible mouse mad. 

Her hindquarters caught his attention. His eyes drifted down to her fluffy tail, then to her succulent rump. Oh what a prize that would be!  He fantasized driving his cock deep into her hot, and moist depths. His imagination turning her maw into that very hole he so desperately wanted. Through his excitement, his claws dug down into the headfur of the weasel, his paws pressing her deeper onto his cock, and his hips pushed forward trying his best to go as deep as her maw would allow.

The weasel was compelled to resist the sudden effort. This time she almost does, as she gagged on the mouse cock forcing itself down her throat. For the briefest of moments she pushes weakly against him, panicked, managing a brief respite before her greater fears thankfully prevail, and she took him fully once more, carefully as she could. Tears streamed from her tightly shut eyes, falling down her precum-dotted face, as much for the shock of the involuntary reaction as was for the fear it would upset the mouse. Still, the weasel tried to accommodate him, to give him release and to hopefully end her nightmare.

The small reluctance on the weasel's part was of no concern of the mouse. He knew it was hard to take, especially for a virgin. It was amusing, and quite arousing. Watching the way she gagged on his cock. He shivered as the weasel took his cock to the back of her throat on her own accord. His length throbbed with the attention, the tip leaking a steady stream of precum with each twitch. A tasty treat for the weasel, something he wouldn't mind sharing in full in a few moments. 

The many thoughts that clouded his mind, and her inexperienced, but surprising pleasurable efforts, were pushing him closer and closer to climax. He wanted to paint her throat white, the first male to ever do so, maybe even the last. By rights this female was now his, and he was going to use her. Such a delicate, untainted maw, all for him. 

"How's it taste, girl? Delightful, I know. It's all for you, for now. Oh what a shame it must be for such a pretty young virgin to be defiled by a weak little mouse. I wonder what the beasts back at the bar would say." 

He gasped out a laugh, his lower body twitching with growing pleasure, his hips trying to move back and forth, as if he had mounted the female. His face aglow with pleasure, and his ears flicking erratically.

"O-oh fuck. You work good, weasel."

His eyes closed tightly, trying his best not to cum too early. He wanted this once in a lifetime opportunity to last a wee bit longer.

The female almost sobbed against his cock. He's right, of course. The rising, respectable young weasel laid low and humiliated by some crazy mouse. The reputation she'd fought so hard to win amongst her mostly male peers, her efforts to find a good male to match her… She could lie, breaking her word in part, but surely rumors would spread anyway. How she came back unclothed would raise questions, and the mouse himself might provide answers if the rumors came back to him. But she would have her virginity. She could prove that to anyone still seriously interested in her. 

Another slight breeze flows against her moist, unprotected sex, raised in the air as it was, thankfully still opposite the mouse. She doubled her efforts, despite the shame of her work, hoping to finish him and be done.

"Oh how humiliating it would be if one of your mates from the tavern found you in such a vulnerable position. Naked, clinging to a mouse, cock deep in your throat," 

He thrusted into her maw, emphasising his point. His balls smacked against her now soaked chin. A soft moan escaping his lips as he felt every inch of her slick tongue run along his shaft. 

"Your rump in the air like some common tavern whore," 

He began to build a rhythm, his hips moving back and forth, shoving his cock deeper into her throat with each push. Her wet maw doing wonders, driving the mouse closer and closer to release. 

"I bet if I told you to raise your tail, you would, like a good little defeated slut." 

His paws tightened around her head, one even grasping her ear roughly, a low growl emanating from his throat as he thrusted into her without mercy. The weasel kept herself from gagging, was all she could do. The mouse fucked her maw with little concern for her well being. She broke down, crying from the humiliation of his words and deeds.

The thought of herself spoiled before her friends, rivals and prospective mates sent a disgusting shiver of despair through her entire body. The idea of her having come so far, yet, just as the mouse had said, reduced to the status of a lowly whore, trading her body to survive. At some level it fostered an indignant form of resistance in her, lowering her tail in a last ditch effort to spite the mouse. She would not raise it again, not before he asks, no. Unless demanded of her, even if the thought boiled her blood. 

Her cunt, nearly dripping now, is tantamount to her life, partly because he's right. She needs herself intact to have any hope of respect, from herself or others. She can't risk anything to be seen as a invitation, but on the other paw, his harsh words stirred up her own desires. Only spared the embarrassment of touching herself amidst her humiliation by the mouse's increasingly aggressive thrusts. Needing both paws to keep herself steady as his hips slammed against her maw. With his cock reaching new depths, all her willpower went to keeping her gag reflex at bay.

The mouse inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in the undeniable scent of her aroused sex. The intoxicating aroma penetrated the mouse's senses, assaulting him with intense stimuli. His eyes dilated, his body shivered in ecstasy. The powerful scent pushed him over the edge right there, his body wanting nothing more than to mount, to fuck. His base primal instincts all screamed at him, clouding his mind with lust and pleasure, his cock throbbing, all seemingly wanting one thing. To breed this weasel's maw.

His hips thrusted forward one last time, his cock pulsing out a thick stream of hot cum. Finally painting the back of her throat, which was soon accompanied by another wave of cum. His balls tensing with each shot, his throat alive with a squeaky moan of delight. He quickly pulled out, still riding the waves of his most powerful orgasm in seasons. His cock pulsing out strand after strand of cum onto the weasel's velvety facial fur. His paws squeezing the back of her head harder with each throb of his cock.

The female was taken by surprise, involuntarily coughing against the mouse's cock as his bitter seed shot down her throat, filling her mouth as he withdraws. Some of it spilled from her lips, flecking against her face and his groin as she sputtered for breath. There's no reprieve for the humiliated weasel as further ropes of the mouse's seed splattered across her furred face and muzzle. The weasel shut her eyes tightly against the onslaught, though there was nothing she could do be to protect the rest of her face, especially with the domineering rodent paws firmly clutched around her ears.

The female is overcome with a heavy sense of dread as the mouse tightened his grip on her. The weasel swiftly recovers, forcing herself to swallow as much of his cum as she can regardless of the taste. That dread was quickly replaced by a calming sense of relief. She had done her part. The mouse is spent, surely. Her untouched femininity safe from further advances.

With a small sigh, she collapses to her side in relief, letting herself nearly go limp in his grasp, tail-end once more oriented to the safety of the ground.

The mouse purred, stroking his cock slowly as he rode the last waves of pleasure. His face awash with a tender and dreamy look, his eyes half laden, and his ears twitching ever so slightly. Such an exquisite virgin maw, impressive to the mouse, not that it really mattered. 

"You look so pretty with your new makeover, weasel~" 

His paw trailed across her cum soaked cheek, his claws matted her fur with his hot mess. His paw almost lovingly caressed her, his face unhindered in his far away look, as if he saw somebeast else between his legs. 

The weasel did her best to enjoy his touch, to find comfort in it, ignoring as best she can the mockery he had made of her appearance. The once-proud weasel marked for what she was, what she might as well be. The mouse's plaything, victim to a greater beast. The male's seed sat bitter on her tongue, spread across her battered face, and along her predatory muzzle, an insult to her nature. Her only consoling thought that her humiliation may now be at an end.

He kept his daze just for a few more moments as the afterglow faded away, his cock slowly bringing him back to reality with a few sensitive throbs. He was still hard, with no signs of waning. 

"I don't think we're done here, weasel."

"W-what? I thought..."

Looking up at the mouse, fear growing in her eyes, desperately looking for the greater meaning behind his threatening words, for some hint at his motivations. The weasel still had some hope. She gave him her word, and he his own. They had a deal, and she thought she had served it well so far. Perhaps he wanted to be in her mouth again?

"Don't worry yourself, lass. We still have a deal, I just want to make sure I get what you're worth out of it." 

He smiled at her, his paws rubbing at her cheeks, smearing his cum around her fur. His paws soon wandered back up to her ears, continuing their loving assault. Scratching and petting them playfully, his nose twitching as the scent of their mixed fluids wafted up. 

He smirked, bending down to press his face into hers. The feeling of his own cum against his furry cheek was welcoming, as if he nuzzled into his own property. His paws found their way back down to her cheeks, holding her in place as he dragged his tongue across her face, slowly cleaning her of his mess. A squeaky purr of pleasure erupted from his throat as he tasted himself mixed with her own essence, her weasel scent, her now dried blood, and the saltiness of her tears that had stained her cheeks earlier. He loved it. 

The weasel relaxed, relieved letting him continue to play with her face, making a larger mess of her visage. A part of her likes the attention, the care it seems to demonstrate. She's surprised again when he nuzzles her face, dirtying himself with his own fluids, and again when he starts to clean her with his tongue. With her face cleaned, he pressed his lips to hers. Stealing a soft kiss, his tongue pushing into her maw, aiming to taste every bit of his handy work, and of her of course.

"Your scent is driving me mad, weasel." 

He took a deep breath through his nostrils to prove his point.

"I want to smell you, I want to taste you. You've been giving off such an amazing musk since you started on my crotch."

He caressed her cheek again, trying his best to seem sincere in his comforts. He wanted to play a little game, see if she could resist him, see if she would give in and let him mount her without resistance. Either way he was going to fuck her pussy raw, but she didn't need to know that yet.

 "You can't deny the fact you liked every moment your maw was against me. How hard it must be to admit that a mouse could make you so... wet."

He nuzzled back into her face, rubbing his cheek against hers as he made for her ear. His large front teeth nibbling down on it gently for a moment before he whispered to her again. 

"I could sate that need burning inside of you. We both know you're wet, needing, and wanting. Let me take you~"

When he nuzzled her again, biting gently at her ear, she gasped. His offer, taking her, deflowering her, and robbing her of the one shred of dignity she still had. It momentarily dominated her mind, a new wave of arousal building within her.

"I-"

The weasel stumbled at the beginning of her sentence. She could tell the mouse was incredibly aroused, and true to his words. She was too, well aware of it, and very unsure of herself for it. Slowly her paw fell down to her virgin sex, touching herself for her protection. She rationalized it as such. The easy accomodation of her needy cunt, stroking subtly as she can, even as he speaks of her own undeniable arousal, very well proving his point in the process. 

The weasel couldn’t help but consider it, the idea of surrendering herself fully providing a certain dismal excitement, but she fights the urges, even stopping her self-attention between her legs. 

"I-I can't, mouse. I'm sorry," she weakly breathes back to him, close to her face as she is. Her last words devolve to whimper, fearful of his reaction.

"Th-that's for somebeast that loves me, I have to- I have to save it... my future mate..."

The mouse snorted, his eyes taking a dangerous turn. As if the weasel had any right to turn down such a generous offer. He had been so nice, so caring. Why would she not return that favor? The weasel flinched, already regretting the words. It was a breach of his territorial dominion over her. She was in his grasp, his seed in her stomach, the first male to have her. 

She wanted to close her eyes, hide herself from him, pretend he was gone, but she keeps them open, dreading what he might do

“Oh, is it now? The cunt that I soaked is the property of some other beast? Your so called “Future mate”, protecting your cunt as if he was going to just climb over that sand dune and free you from me?”

He made air quotes in the air, mocking her with every single word. The weasel scrambled to find words, anything to placate the mouse. Before she could speak, the mouse’s paw shot down to her maw, putting her jaw in a vice like grip, locking her gaze onto his. 

“Am I not good enough for you, weasel?” 

"Please," the weasel starts, trying to explain herself, but his free paw lashed out against her face, slapping her roughly upside the ear. His other paw quickly pulling her back to face him. 

“I’ve been so nice! I gave you a deal, I cleaned you up, I cared for you.” 

He slapped her again, putting more force into it. He smiled darkly, digging his claws into her face, pulling her in close, pressing her snout to his. 

“I’m going to honor our deal, weasel.” 

Venom dripped with the last word. He was angry, but not angry enough to break the deal just yet. He wasn’t going to ruin his pet, he wanted to play with her just a little longer.

“You’re going to show me what your virgin pussy is worth. You’re going to turn around, lift that tail, and spread your lips for me.”

She sobbed quietly, her eyes closed against any future pain. She barely reacted to the otherwise welcome news, only mustering a weak whimper at his demand that she prove herself worthy to him. Her tears only aroused him further, her pain and suffering only spurring the mouse to new heights of sick enjoyment. She hated it.  

For a moment after she dropped from his grasp, she kept still, sinking to the ground, shaking with fear and despair. The weasel soon remembered what was at stake. Slowly, she warily turns herself around, on all fours, her protective paw for a moment gone as she presents herself. It was enough to force more whimpers from her throat. She steadies herself, her rump once more in the air, legs apart, facing her hopefully merciful former opponent. To have him gaze upon his prize, hopefully only for that purpose, her tail high, straight as she could possibly make it. Trying her best not to obscure her assets.The proud weasel had kept herself clean as well as unspoiled. Never once had she thought she would be presenting to any creature other than her mate, let alone this mouse. The mouse took it upon himself to whistle, her soaked sex finally lifted into full view. He licked his lips, savoring the moment. Her precious virgin sex, exposed and dripping all for him.

She warily put her once-protective paw up against her slit, betraying herself as she parted her lower lips slightly. The weasel said nothing, thoroughly afraid to utter a single word. Perhaps she lost that right. In any case, she was vulnerable. This supposedly inferior woodland creature so close to taking her, having beaten and humiliated her so easily before. How could she ever expect any mercy? 

"Good girl." 

His cock twitched, throbbing in what the mouse could only describe as a primal need to mount and mate the female. If he could have made kits with this weasel, he would have fucked her long ago, but alas, she was just a toy. Unfortunately. His paw stroked gently along his shaft, paw slick with a mix of her saliva, and his own seed. His eyes glued to her sex, her pink virgin depths presented to him, what would normally be obscured by her tail and thick pubic fur, spread apart in a show only he had ever seen.

He growled, his paw moving faster along his shaft, enjoying the new view immensely. That was the tipping point for him, he couldn't hold himself back anymore. He knelt down, his free paw holding onto her surprisingly tight rump, his other paw still working on his own cock. The weasel almost covered herself instinctively. Stayed only by a last fortunate hope, that he wouldn't break his word, that he would do anything but break her. 

He took in her aroma, such a powerful smell, one mixed with lust, and what he thought was fear. He pressed his nose against her sex, taking in the wonderful aroma at its source. When she feels his nose against her, the weasel twitched in surprise, a sordid, shamefully yet pleasant feeling. The first time any male had touched her, the privilege given to a mouse. 

He took as much of her scent as he could, before he ruined it with his own smell. He wanted it, unspoiled by him, or any other beast. It was divine, the most pleasant musk he had ever taken. From a weasel of all things. He shivered in delight, not wasting anymore precious time. He pushed his muzzle under her wet sex, his tongue pressing against the lowest part of her. He dragged it up, running it against her inner skin. He finished at the top, his mouth full of her liquids. He closed his mouth, letting it soak onto his tongue. His eyes closed, savouring it for all it was worth, before swallowing slowly. Her taste was similar to her smell, sweet in a way only a male would understand. Such things played with his senses, pushing his arousal to the absolute limits. 

The weasel couldn’t help but tremble again in unbidden sexual excitement. Her soft moans filling the clearing. She was unsure of the mouse’s intentions. Perhaps this was his way of saying sorry? Respecting her? Their agreement? No matter the motivation, she found herself welcoming his careful attention. As if the smaller prey creature was paying tribute to her, respecting her wishes in a manner of worship towards her untainted sex.

The mouse licked his lips in a vain attempt to clean himself of her fluids, his face wet and matted from his exploration. He paid that no mind, the temporary warmth was worth the eventual uncomfortable stickiness. His attention went back to the presenting female in front of him, her tail not daring to cover what was his. It made him happy. An odd feeling for the mouse, even if he did feel it often enough, it was never something he truly understood. A larger female, wet, and defeated, at the mercy of his every whim. It would be a waste not to mate her, take her right then. Even presenting to him, her lips spread, her depths exposed and begging for him to push his cock inside. If she was a mouse, he wouldn’t have made such a silly deal. Why would he waste a chance to mate a female? Even if he couldn’t breed her, he sure wasn’t going to let that stop him from trying. Though he had something different in mind for the picky weasel, for now. 

His eyes moved to her tailhole, just barely visible under her tail fluff. If he couldn’t have her cunt, he was going to have the next best thing. 

His cock throbbed between his legs, precum having soaked his pubic fur long ago, some even dribbling down to the pool of cum that lay under them. It was a pleasant sight, a testament to his handiwork. He was quite proud. Even if he had acquired this female in an unorthodox manner. 

He took the brief lull in activity to press his nose into her wet sex once more, taking in his fill of her untainted musk. Sparking a sudden gasp from the weasel, the deliberate, careful tongue upon her guarded passage. 

The mouse pushed his paw back down to his cock, stroking furiously, pushing himself closer and closer to climax. The weasel was blissfully unaware of the male’s intentions, and of his next approaching orgasm. She was consumed by arousal, panting heavily, waiting for him to tease her moist virginity once more, but It didn’t take long for him to reach his limits, her intoxicating aroma, and the odd lick he gave her, was just too much. He pulled away from her cunt as he reached orgasm, his paw guiding his cock to her rump just as the first strand of hot cum burst from his tip. It landed heavily on her exposed hole, followed by another and another. The mouse bit his lip, grunting heavily as he road out the orgasm. He watched with a smile as he covered her entrance in his seed, with some rogue strands painting her rump, and tailhole. 

The weasel jolts lightly, wet, and stubborn strands of a familiar substance found her parted cunt instead, some splashing within. Most of it finding contact close enough, only just suppressing the urge to cover herself, no surplus will of mind to stop the silent, shaking sobs that take hold over her once more.

Angry tears welled up in her eyes. Her ears twitching through the mouse's grunting pleasure, his delighted corruption of her virgin sex, the mockery of her simple devotions. The mouse may not have broken his promise, nor properly deflowered her, but the message was quite clear. He had been there first, and while she could clean the mark of ownership he had left on her, the stain on her pride would be longer to fade.

"F-finished?" 

She managed to ask between shaky breaths. Indignant, but fearful still, all too aware that her trials may indeed not be over. Worried for the fate of her mouse-marked entrance, trying hard to ignore the excruciating need to roll onto her back to clean the male's potent fluids from her no longer quite so untouched virgin sex.

“Oh my dear, we’re not done yet. My cock yearns for the warmth of your cunt, and the depths of your body. I want to breed you, weasel. I honestly regret making that deal with you, but this will have to do...”