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From: Scarletdown <gsutton9503@MYTAILFEATHERSwavecable.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Story - RedTails : A Night Out, A Night In - Part 09  (MF/M M/F FF/F, magic, furry, rim, spank)
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Date: Mon, 12 Jul 2004 18:10:04 -0400
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RedTails:  Awakenings
A Night Out, A Night In

Chapter IX - Tails Up

By - Scarletdown

     Frelic sat down on the couch in front of the fireplace.  "Go fetch 
the training paddle from the bed chamber, young lady," he ordered.
     Hansen disappeared through the southeast door, returning less than 
a minute later with the paddle Frelic had purchased from Varo reverently 
held in front of him in both paws.  He presented it to his Master and 
submissively stood before him.  Elf quietly patted his bare thigh, and 
Squirrel obediently lay face down across his Master's lap, bushy tail 
held high and proud.
     Frelic rubbed the paddle over his pet's upturned bottom and gave 
him a few light taps, "Ten platinum pieces, one thousand gold, one 
thousand swats," he chanted, as he had said to Shaasta earlier.  This 
time however, he added, "Plus an additional thirty five, the price I 
paid for your own rescue.  Now, since my concentration will be focused 
solely on paddling your butt, I may easily lose count.  Therefore, I 
charge you to maintain the counting and to call out each swat applied to 
your bottom.  You will count out the thirty five first, and after your 
price is fulfilled, you will start the count over again for the 
thousand.  Are these instructions clear, my pet?"
     Hansen trembled as he thought about what he was about to endure, 
"Yes, Master.  I fully understand."  No sooner had he voiced his 
acknowledgment, then the paddle slammed down on his furry little bottom, 
striking the left cheek with a punishing wooden bite that left him 
stunned for a brief moment.  "One!" he cried, after his breath returned 
to his lungs.
     Another smack of the paddle burned through the right hemisphere of 
his ass, every bit as cruel and punishing as its predecessor.  He closed 
his eyes tight, and through clenched teeth, yelled, "Two!"
     A third strike immediately followed, kissing both cheeks as it 
landed perfectly across the center, "Three!"
     The paddling proceeded at a steady beat, the timing between each 
swat administered slow enough to where the Squirrel felt the full impact 
of wood on furry nether flesh, but not so slow as to give him any 
respite between strikes.  The lounge was filled with the sounds of 
punishment mixed with Hansen's pained cries as he numbered each smack, 
sounds which spilled out above the streets and the third floor hallway 
through the open doors.  By the thirtieth swat, Hansen was blinking back 
the tears that threatened to escape his eyes; his little bottom felt as 
if it was on fire.  By the thirty fifth, his will broke and his whole 
body was quivering as he sobbed uncontrollably, "Thirty five, he whimpered.

     Frelic put the paddle down and inspected his handiwork.  A lovely 
deep blush was visible through the white fur of his pet's plush bottom, 
and his mark, the pawprint overlaid with a willow tree, shimmered silver 
against the crimson canvas.  Between the Squirrel's legs, there was not 
the slightest hint of arousal; between the Elf's legs was a different 
story, but Frelic was satisfied that the spanking he had just given his 
pet as well as the spanking to come, was and would be true punishment. 
After Hansen was calmed again, Frelic picked the paddle back up and 
rubbed it over the Squirrel's already punished bottom, "And now to begin 
the thousand, the first installment of the thousand."  As before, the 
paddle traced a graceful downward arc through the air and landed solidly 
on the left side of Hansen's bottom, sending a new burst of pain 
coursing through his aft end.
     "One!!!"

     The boardwalk was a beehive of activity, a great contrast to the 
serene solitude of the wilds to which Shaasta was much more accustomed. 
  The walks were a veritable river of people, folk from all over Niath, 
all bustling about on personal business or taking in the sights, or 
allowing themselves to be drawn into one of a great variety of shops 
that lined the wooden-paved roadway.  Many large ships floated in the 
cool salty waters, moored securely to the docks, ships as diverse as the 
people who filled the waterfront.  Small fast corvettes; enormous cargo, 
passenger, and war vessels, whose multitude of masts formed a mini 
skyline; several massive longboats, with huge oars protruding from the 
sides like the legs of a giant centipede; and pleasure craft, clippers, 
schooners, and more, belonging to the wealthier citizens and visitors in 
Mistport. Sailors hustled about the piers, performing maintenance on 
their ships, loading and unloading cargo, securing rigging, and mending 
sails.  Many paused to briefly take in the lovely sight of the three 
nymphly ladies as they passed by, while others, too focused on their 
work, blithely carried on with their tasks.
     Shaasta's prosthetic tail twitched nervously behind her.  Places 
such as this made her uncomfortable and nervous.  The Elf, being a shy 
creature of the wilds, felt much more at ease deep in the forests of 
Pinevale or the misty swamplands of Calthani, where she and her brother 
had been born twenty three years previously.  Without warning, she 
paused to regain her senses.  The others did not stop until the leash 
clasped to her collar went taught.
     Thissle turned around and gazed at her charge; genuine concern for 
the Elf was clearly visible in her coppery eyes.  "Shaasta, honey, are 
you okay?  You seem troubled."
     "Yeah," Karma agreed, "Are you not feeling well?"
     Shaasta closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands for a 
few seconds, then turned and gave her friends a timid smile, "I'll be 
okay.  I'm just feeling a wee bit overloaded out here."
     Thissle nodded sympathetically, "The shy forest creature outside of 
her natural habitat."  She handed the leash to Karma and put an arm 
around the troubled Elf, gently petting her bare flank to comfort her. 
"If this is too much for your senses to withstand, we can go back to the 
Hightail Inn or find a nice quiet stretch of beach to retreat too away 
from this crowd, and just have some quiet intimate time together by 
ourselves," she offered.
     "Thank-you, Thissle, but I will be alright momentarily."  She 
smiled again and planted a friendly peck on the Dragon girl's sweet 
lips.  "I really do need to condition myself to become comfortable in 
settings such as this anyway."
     "Oh look!" Karma interrupted them.  "Otters!"

     "That pastry vendor again?" Shaasta guessed.
     "No, sea otters," the Rabbit replied, pointing to the water, "the 
critters, not the Furlings."
     Shaasta and Thissle looked in the direction Karma was pointing. 
There in the salty water between the pier and a massive Tameran long 
boat, a group of three gray and white-furred sea otters were swimming 
about, playing nip and run and occasionally diving beneath the surface, 
only to come back up with a large shellfish in one paw and a large rock 
in the other.  The girls dropped down on all fours at the edge of the 
pier for a better look, once again causing all activity around them to 
come to a halt.
     "Oh, how cute," Shaasta giggled, the smile on her face at the sight 
of the three large water rats chasing away any lingering threads of her 
recent claustrophobia.
     "You would think that much cuteness concentrated in one place would 
violate some local ordinances," Thissle commented, as one of the otters 
floated on his back, placed a mussel on his chest, and cracked it open 
with his rock to get at the succulent meat inside.
     "Aw, you can never have too much cuteness," Karma argued.  She made 
a 'tch-tch' sound, which got the otters' attention.  The three sea 
critters paused in their frolickings and gazed up at the three ladies 
watching them, staring back with large dark eyes that caught the 
afternoon sun and sparkled with playful mischief.
     "What are you doing?" Thissle asked.
     "I'm getting us a bit of good luck," Karma replied.  She repeated 
the 'tch' sounds and the otters swam closer to the pier, almost close 
enough for the girls to reach out and caress their wet pelts.  "Ever 
kissed an otter before?"
     "Only Delilah," Thissle said, "and that fellow who runs the little 
Inn at Rainwood.  But never a mundane otter."
     "It's supposed to bring good luck," Shaasta told her.  "Truth to 
tell, I can't say whether or not there is really anything to that or if 
it's just an old hearth tale, but there's no harm in trying."
     Thissle shook her head and smirked, "Well, it seems a little silly 
to me, but what do I know?  After all, I'm only a young and clueless 
Dragon."
     They all leaned forward, heads down over the water, asses in the 
air. After a minute of making little kissy noises at the critters, the 
otters disappeared beneath the surface, then popped back up nose to nose 
with the girls.  Wet, salty muzzles touched their muzzles in a series of 
rapid-fire pecks.  Then as quickly as it started, the otters slipped 
again beneath the water, resurfaced near the far end of the pier, and 
swam out to the kelp beds off in the distance.
     "Well, that was weird," was Thissle's verdict.
     "What was weird?" Shaasta asked.
     "Delilah never kisses like that."
     "Perhaps she would if you asked her."
     Karma looked over at Thissle and shrugged, "That's because Delilah 
is an Otter."
     Thissle and Shaasta exchanged a look, then the Dragon girl turned 
her gaze back to the Rabbit, "But those were otters."
     "What I mean is," Karma started to explain, then thought better of 
it, "ah, never mind for now.  I'll spell it out for you later.  Let's go."

     "Not yet."
     "Why?" Karma asked, "the otters are gone."
     Thissle and Shaasta gave her a puzzled look, "Who are you talking 
to, bunny?"  She started to get up.
     "Please girls, stay put for just a moment or two longer."  The 
voice, though gruff and subtly commanding, was definitely feminine.
     Not sure if they were about to be robbed or what, the girls went 
ahead and played it safe and just held still in the invite position.
     "Almost there," the voice behind them said.  She sounded a little 
distracted, "Just one final touch.  Hold it.  Hold it.  And..." one at a 
time, they felt a gentle hand on their rumps, followed by a light 
pressure on their southern stars, as the unknown lady behind them gave 
them each a single coin, inserted up their butts with a long, 
fur-covered finger. "There, finished.  You ladies may get up now, unless 
you don't mind the possibility of just any passersby accepting your 
unspoken invitation.  Oh, and lest I forget my manners, thank-you very 
much for your time and cooperation."

     The girls rose to their feet and slowly turned around.  Before 
them, smiling warmly at them, stood a Furling Coyote.  Her fur was dark 
gray, with speckles of lighter gray.  A mop of hair, black as the 
darkest night crowned her furry head, dropping to her shoulders and 
curling out behind her.  As if Ms. Nature was indecisive as to which 
color best suited this canine lady, her eyes were constantly changing 
colors every five seconds, cycling from brown, to violet, to blue, to 
green, to grey, and back to brown.
     As was typical of Furlings, Orniths, and other exotic races, this 
Coyote dressed lightly, showing off her fur-covered curves.  Standing on 
digitigrade legs, her feet were shod with a pair of tall sandals, which 
were laced neatly up to her knees.  The only other clothing on her lean 
but still curvaceous body was a harness of supple black leather, which 
was nothing more than a wide belt around her waist and two straps that 
formed an X across her back and pert breasts.  A pair of silver pins 
decorated her harness, one near each shoulder.  The left was a likeness 
of a mink, curled up on a pillow, and its counterpart was another mink, 
this one a Furling in a three quarter rear view, partially bent over 
with her paws on her knees and her tail raised high.  Hanging from her 
belt, at her left hip, was a small, round wooden paddle, decorated with 
a likeness of the same Furling Mink featured on her right shoulder. Also 
on her belt were the usual pouches, as well as several quills, paint 
brushes, and charcoal sticks.  Under her left arm, she held a thick pad 
of drawing parchments.
     "Again," the Coyote repeated, "I thank-you for your cooperation.  I 
hope a silver piece each was sufficient for your modeling services."
     Shaasta looked puzzled, "Modeling services?"
     "Yes indeed.  Look," she held up the drawing pad, and the girls 
gave a collective gasp at what they saw.  While they were busy kissing 
the sea otters, this Furling managed to hammer out an impressively 
accurate sketch of the three girls; or more specifically, an 
impressively accurate sketch of the girls' severely upthrust asses.
     Karma looked quite amazed at this lady's work, "That is fantastic. 
  You even managed to get the rose planted in Shaasta's butt."
     Thissle nodded, agreeing with Karma's assessment, "And in only a 
couple minutes at that, Miss?"
     "Trikks," she replied, giving the girl's hand a friendly squeeze, 
"I'm with Uptail Lodge, Mistport's chapter of the Order of the Mink." 
She pointed to the silver pin on her right shoulder, and then to its 
counterpart on her left.  "And you are?"
     "Thissle," she offered, "of WraithHold."
     "Oh my!"  Trikk's paw went to her muzzle, and her eyes went wide as 
if she had just seen a ghost.  "From Pinevale, perchance?"
     Thissle exchanged looks with her friends, "That's the only 
WraithHold we know of."
     "And if you will pardon this humble artist's continued grilling," 
she pressed on, "would you by chance really be a Dragon, Copper to be 
precise?"
     Thissle's eyes changed; whites, irises, and pupils merged into 
swirling pools of translucent copper.  "Ms. Trikks, what is your game 
here?  How do you know who I am?"  Her voice was a low growl, with a 
hint of suspicion and a touch of menace.
     Trikks remained calm, though her eyes betrayed her awe at the 
subtle power this lass emanated.  "Please, dear," she said, "Keep your 
skirt on, at least for now.  There is no cause for alarm.  I am simply 
truly honored to find myself in your presence."  She put her arms behind 
her and in a sincere gesture of deference, placed her paws behind her on 
her furry rump.
     Thissle looked to Karma and Shaasta for a clue.  All they could 
offer was a helpless shake of their heads and a puzzled shrug.  Perhaps 
this creature was simply letting the wizweed speak for her, although 
there was no hint of that substance's sweet fragrance on the Coyote.
     "Begging your pardon, m'lady, but I fear that your flattery is 
misplaced."  Thissle's eyes returned to as they were before, "I am 
merely a girl, a Dragon girl masquerading as a Human, but still just a 
girl, nothing more, nothing special."
     Trikks gave a sweet laugh that was sweet music to the ears and 
soothing to the nerves.  "Your modesty is greatly understated, dear 
Dragon."  She placed a paw on the back of Thissle's bare thigh, giving 
it a gentle pat, "and I do not mean your delightful fashion sense."
     "Honestly, Ms. Trikks," Thissle replied, "Before you start speaking 
in riddles, I must again insist that I am truly no one of any 
significance.  You must be mistaking me for some other girl."
     "Nonsense!"  Thissle felt the cool seaside breeze caress her naked 
bottom, followed by the burning sting of wood on flesh as Trikks pulled 
up the hem of her minidress and planted the paddle which, moments 
before, hung docilely at her hip, squarely on the girl's exposed left 
cheek.  The impact brought a loud smack that rang out up and down the 
street and across the water, causing the three otters out there to 
briefly look up from their kelp wraps before returning to their 
afternoon nap.
     The Coyote released Thissle's dress, shook the paddle knowingly in 
her direction, and scolded her.  "Knock it off with that innocent little 
charade, girl.  Just as there is only one WraithHold in Pinevale, we all 
know that there is only one young Copper Dragon brat named Thissle who 
calls WraithHold in Pinevale her lair."
     Thissle rubbed her left flank.  It smarted considerably where 
Trikk's paddle had struck her.  "Okay, we have established my identity." 
  She raised her own paddle and returned the Coyote's favor squarely 
across both furry southern cheeks, "Now, will you please tell us how you 
know who I am and why, by Paramour's fangs, you are acting as if this 
humble Dragon lass is some sort of celebrity?"
     "Oh, but you are a celebrity, dear girl," Trikks corrected her, "In 
fact, you are a legend.  Who would have thought that I would have the 
honor of having my furry butt paddle-smacked by the Paddled Dragon 
herself."  She fluttered her eyelashes dreamily at Thissle, "Thank-you 
so much.  I will cherish this moment for all time."
     Karma pulled the confused Dragon girl aside, "Thissle, what the 
'ell is up with you and Ms. Trikks here?  I mean, the Paddled Dragon? 
Is that like a future prediction or something?"
     Shaasta huffed and exchanged a look with the Coyote, "Yeah, as if 
that is a shocking event to predict."
     "Oh, but I am not referring to the future," Trikks said, "I am 
talking about the epic tale of when this girl became the first Dragon in 
recorded history to be subdued and thoroughly paddled by a non-Dragon, 
that dreamy Elf fellow that saved Pinevale."
     "Oh, you mean Frelic Willowpaw," Shaasta said.
     "Yes, that is his name."  She nodded excitedly, put her paws to her 
chest, and fluttered her eyelashes again, "He is such a hot fellow. 
After the tale of your subdual at his hand spread from Pinevale, well, 
you wouldn't believe how many Mink initiates, myself included, have 
fantasized about being taken down and having their bottoms paddled by 
him, as well as giving him the same blessing."
     Understanding was finally starting to work its way into Thissle's 
copper-maned head, "Oh, that little episode.  That was like what, a year 
ago?"
     "The steamiest tales travel fast through the Order of the Mink," 
Trikks explained.  "And let me tell you, that sweet little Halfling lass 
that Frelic has as his apprentice is one hot storyteller."
     Thissle's face cycled through several shades of red, "Oh my, you 
mean Honeyrose?"
     "Yes, that's her name.  The night after Frelic made history, 
Honeyrose was at the local inn, chatting with some Order of the Mink 
friends from Ponytail Lodge; and the tale of the Great Dragontamer came up."
     "That little brat," Thissle growled, "She told everyone about the 
most humiliating moment in my life over a mug of mead.  How much detail 
did she go into?"
     "She just gave a short summary of your adventure," the Coyote 
shrugged."
     Thissle nodded.
     "We didn't get the full tale until a week later when she was 
invited to Ponytail Lodge, where Archivist Renton negotiated a deal with 
her."
     "She sold that journal entry?"
     "Yes, though he did have Honeyrose expand it a bit to give all the 
finer details, turning it from just a few pages from her journal into a 
full-fledged redtail epic."  She sighed again, "When we got a copy at 
Uptail Lodge, I took the liberty of creating some illustrations to 
accompany the story.  That was one of my most enjoyable projects ever."
     "She sold the story of Master spanking me."
     Trikks put her arm around Thissle, "You should be proud of that 
girl, dear.  She has made you famous all over Niath and beyond."
     "She sold the story of Master spanking me," Thissle repeated, "When 
we get back to WraithHold, I am finally going to take her up on a little 
offer she always makes whenever she does not feel like talking anymore."
     Karma giggled, "You mean that cute little thing she says?"
     "Which is?" the Coyote asked.
     Shaasta did a half-turn and thrust out her rump, one hand resting 
sassily on her hip, "Talk to the butt."
     "That's the one," Thissle replied.  "Only it will be the paddle 
doing the talking."  She gave the Elf's presented bottom a firm smack 
with the paddle."
     "If you do redden the Halfling's rear, would you be so kind as to 
write the incident down and present it to Ponytail Lodge?" Trikks requested.
     "Oh, you bet I will," Thissle agreed, a devilish gleam in her eyes. 
"And this one will be a gift from me too."
     "Oh, most generous of you, oh legendary Paddled Dragon.  And I 
would love to spend time with you ladies and hear more tales of tails 
sometime."
     Karma stepped forward, "Well, we are on our way to a nice little 
club we saw earlier today, Hot Summer Nights.  You are more than welcome 
to join us, Ms. Trikks."
     Trikks smiled and accepted the invitation, "I am honored, Miss?"
     "Karma," the Rabbit offered.  "I'm Frelic's personal aide."
     "Karma, such a lovely name.  And this skyclad Elf on the leash?"
     "This is Shaasta.  She was just purchased from the Southern Rose."
     "Ah, I thought I recognized Varo's hallmark when you girls were 
kissing the otters."  She gave Shaasta a big hug, and the obligatory pat 
and squeeze on the bottom, "A pleasure to meet you, little boink bunny."
     "Well, what are we waiting for?" Thissle asked, giving Shaasta's 
leash a tug, "Let's go."
     "Oh this is going to be a night to remember," Trikks predicted, as 
the Dragon girl led them north to their evening's destiny, "especially 
if Brannel is working there tonight.  You will like him; you will like 
him a lot."

     "Thirty eight!  Thirty nine!"  Hansen's butt felt like it was on 
fire as Frelic relentlessly paddled him.  The Elf felt no hardness 
against his thigh, which told him that the spanking the Furling Squirrel 
bent over his lap was taking was indeed one of true punishment. 
Likewise, the hardness Hansen felt pressed against his firm, furry 
stomach indicated that his Master was thoroughly enjoying roasting his 
cute little bottom.  Deep within him, far beneath the fiery pain 
coursing through his backside, the understanding that his unquestioning 
submission to his punishment brought pleasure to his Master made the 
Squirrel's penance bearable.
     The paddle slammed down on his ass again, solidly striking the 
right cheek and making the pawprint and willow tree brand glow brighter. 
  He closed his eyes tight to fight back the tears that were finally 
threatening to escape down his muzzle, "Forty, Master!"
     Hansen breathed a sigh of relief as an unexpected respite appeared 
in the lounge.  "Frelic, Hansen?  Aren't you two ready to go yet?"

     The Elf halted in mid-swing, paddle poised high over the Squirrel's 
butt.  He twisted around to look at the Furling Skunk standing in the 
doorway, dressed in a green, sleeveless, wrap-around top that left her 
midriff and one shoulder bare, and a matching very short, green, pleated 
miniskirt that showed off plenty of black and white-furred thigh.
     Frelic smiled and motioned for her to come in, "Hello again, Makae. 
Please come join us.  We will be ready shortly.  I just have some final 
business to wrap up."
     The Skunkette padded over to the hearth, her wide hips and thick 
bushy tail swishing left and right seductively with each step.  Upon 
seeing Hansen sprawled over his Master's lap, tail raised high, brand 
glowing brightly, and every square inch of white fur showing the 
telltale crimson blush of punishment, she instinctively reached out to 
run her paws over the tender, burning, southern hills.
     "Oh my, Frelic," she said, "That is some of the most impressive 
tail work I have seen in ages.  Are ye just getting your pet properly 
primed for the evening, or is this a much more serious session?"
     "I'm afraid this would be the latter," Frelic replied.
     "That's what I thought.  His bottom does resemble how mine and 
Mistie's always looked after being taken over Mister or Misses Kez's lap 
for punishment."  She smiled sympathetically down at Hansen, though he 
could not see her, and gave his tender rump a comforting squeeze which 
caused him to wince.  "Poor Squirrel.  What did he do?"
     "He agreed to share in Shaasta's penance for costing me over a 
thousand gold pieces to rescue them," Frelic explained.
     "Yes," Hansen chimed in, "one swat for each gold piece."
     Makae put one paw over her muzzle and one over her rump, "Oh my, 
one thousand punishment-caliber swats?  Can their bottoms withstand that 
much abuse?"
     Frelic laughed and patted his pet's rump, "Not in one sitting, they 
couldn't.  No, we are carrying this out over the course of several weeks 
until penance has reached completion."
     "Sessions of fifty swats at a time," Hansen said, "a minimum of one 
session per day.  Only ten more for this round, and then we can go have 
some fun."
     Makae sat down on the couch and snuggled up close to the Elf, 
"Frelic, may I carry out your pet's final ten?  He looks like a real 
pleasure to paddle."

     Frelic rested the paddle on Hansen's butt and smiled devilishly at 
the Skunkette; her light musky scent was intoxicating.  "Can you handle 
it, sweet tail?  This is punishment, you know."
     "You bet your ass I can handle it.  Before Mister Kez had to 
dismiss Mistie, he would often have me administer her paddlings and vice 
versa when he and the others were too busy with other matters to take 
the time out to redden our bottoms."  She returned the devilish smile, 
"We learned from the experts here."
     Frelic nodded and had his pet transfer himself from his lap to 
Makae's, then he turned the paddle over to the Mephit.  "Make sure you 
get every square inch of his ass," he instructed her, and to Hansen he 
reminded him, "Don't forget to count the swats, love Squirrel."
     Makae held the Squirrel's tail out of the way, pressing it between 
her right arm and his back, and without warning, brought the paddle down 
dead center on his rear.  It was hard enough to steal Hansen's breath 
away from him and even caused Frelic to wince sympathetically.
     "Forty one!"  Hansen cried.
     Another swat landed on his bottom, sending a burst of wooden agony 
through the left cheek.  "Forty two!"  This was immediately followed by 
a third, impacting hard on the right flank.  "Forty three!"
     Frelic noticed that his pet's cock had emerged from its furry 
sheath again, and the scent of the Squirrel's arousal mingled with the 
Skunk's scent.  However, this did not cause him any concern; it was not 
the paddling itself that was getting Hansen worked up.  Not even Delilah 
could enjoy that intense of a punishment, at least he didn't think his 
Otter brat could.  No, the cause for Hansen's burning lust was the fact 
that his spanking was being given to him over the lap of a hot young 
Furling Mephit.  And who could blame him?  This is the sort of scene 
many lads and lasses would pay gold or even platinum to experience, 
himself included.
     One final smack, harder than any of the previous ones, sent a final 
wave of fierce pain rippling through the Squirrel's ass, "Fifty, 
m'lady!"  Hansen cried out.  "Thank-you so much for disciplining this 
humble pet."

     Makae laughed, set the paddle down, and affectionately ran her paws 
again over the Squirrel's bottom, her fingers expertly kneading the hot, 
glowing, punished southern flesh.  "It was my pleasure, love Squirrel. 
We will have to do this again sometime, and again, and again."
     "Well, he does have another fifty and nine hundred to suffer before 
his penance is complete," Frelic reminded her, "as does my sister; that 
is, if you fancy spanking soft smooth Elven bottoms."
     She fluttered her eyelashes at him, ran a gentle paw up his thigh 
and under his skirt, and caressed his bare flank, "Oh, I most certainly 
do."  She gave him an impish wink and planted a kiss on his lips, then 
had Hansen get to his feet so that she could lay herself across the 
Elf's lap.
     This caught Frelic completely off guard, "Erm, Makae, what are you 
doing?"
     "What's it look like I'm doing, silly Elf?" she sassed back at him, 
"I'm offering my ass to you for a spanking."  The Skunkette squirmed 
playfully on his lap; her muskiness grew stronger as Frelic erection, 
pressing into the young lady's plush fur grew harder.  "And then I want 
some of that cinnamon perfume sprayed up my butt like your girls got 
earlier."
     "I want to be the answer to an ages-old question.  What is black, 
white, and red?"
     Hansen was grinning like a naughty schoolboy as he rubbed his sore, 
tender rump.  "So, you like getting spanked too?"
     She shrugged her dainty shoulders, "Of course I do, brat boy.  I am 
a Furling, you know.  No one is quite sure why, but an obsessive love of 
sore bottoms seems to be ingrained into us.  Why do you think the Order 
of the Mink has such a much greater Furling and Ornith membership across 
Niath than any other Order?"
     The Squirrel nodded thoughtfully, "I never really thought about 
that before.  But now that you mention it, there does seem to be a 
tremendous amount of spanking and other painful undertail activities 
going on among us than other races.  Perhaps I should embark on a 
research expedition to investigate this further one of these days."
     "I'm sure one of the Mink lodges would be more than happy to 
sponsor you on such a noble quest," Makae replied, "Now what are you 
waiting for, Frelic?  My bottom needs your not-so-tender care now."
     Frelic laughed then pulled up the back of the Mephit's skirt, 
tucking it into itself, lifted her tail up out of the way, holding it 
down along the length of her back, and exposed her indescribably 
gorgeous licorice and whipped-cream bottom.  He kneaded the soft, hot 
mounds with his hands and smiled over at his fully aroused pet.  "A 
wizard's work never ends, eh Hansen?"
     Feigning complete seriousness, the Squirrel nodded understanding, 
"Aye, 'tis a tiring task, Master.  But the rewards are well worth the toil."
     "They are indeed, my pet."  Frelic's hand went up, then descended 
in a graceful arc, landing hard with a dull smack on the left cheek of 
Makae's upthrust bottom.  Her rear jiggled cutely upon impact and she 
squirmed again on his lap.  Another swat landed on the other cheek, 
followed by a third across the middle.  The girl was purring softly as 
the Elf gave her a warm up.  The spanking so far stung a little, just 
enough to cause her back to arch a little more; her behind rose higher 
and exposed the sweet moistness forming between her thighs.  Frelic 
repeated the pattern twice more, migrating the impacts to the upper rise 
of her rump; left, right, and center; and then gave the same to her 
lower curves.  He finished the warm up with a harder two-handed swat on 
both cheeks, then ran a finger along the slit of her sex.
     "Most impressive, sweet little slut.  We have just started and 
already you are ready for boinking."
     She sighed happily at Frelic's touch on her femininity and at the 
sound of his sweet talk, then spread her legs a little further apart 
when she felt his lust-moistened finger slide up and press at the rim of 
her musk hole.  "Go ahead," she whimpered, "Remember, I do get the 
gehennite treatment weekly."
     Frelic smiled and thrust his finger up her tight ass, sliding it 
around the hot wall of her nether chamber.  She gasped as his finger 
probed deep inside her; her southern star clenched tight around him, not 
wanting this moment to end.  She nearly orgasmed on his lap when he 
yanked his finger out from under her tail, and he nearly orgasmed when 
he put his finger in his mouth and sampled the girl's flavor.  It was 
like nothing he had ever tasted before, pure ambrosia.
     "And now that you are properly warmed up, sweet tail, we are ready 
to turn your gorgeous ass the color of the sunset."  He took up the 
paddle and laid into Makae's tender bottom with renewed vigor, 
alternating in his usual pattern of left cheek, right cheek, and middle 
up and down her jiggling behind until her nether cheeks were blushing a 
soft crimson and she was writhing in pure ecstasy on his lap, begging 
and pleading for the Elf to take her here and now.  However, after 
twenty swats, Frelic set the paddle down and instructed Makae to rise to 
her feet.
     "Not yet, little slut.  Now that your bottom has been properly 
warmed up on the outside, it needs to be warmed up inside."  He gestured 
to the perfume bottle sitting next to the couch, then turned to Hansen. 
  "Go fetch a fresh applicator, love."
     Hansen trotted off to the bath chamber and Frelic instructed the 
Mephit to bend herself over and place her paws on the seat of one of the 
chairs.  While he waited for his pet to return, Frelic idly played with 
Makae's lovely bottom; his hands gently caressed and massaged the soft, 
paddled flesh, and his dexterous fingers traced along the crevasse 
formed by those sweet, tender, furry cheeks, probing down between her 
legs to briefly tease around the edge of her butthole, and continuing on 
to just barely press into her the outer folds of her sweet, sticky sex.
     The Squirrel returned half a minute later with a brand spanking new 
applicator tip, which he handed over to his Master.  "Prep her ass for 
insertion," Frelic instructed him.
     Hansen smiled cheerfully and licked his chops, "Oh yes, thank-you 
so much, Master."  He knelt behind the bent over Skunkette and buried 
his muzzle under her tail, happily pressing his tongue deep up her musk 
hole while his Master removed the used applicator from the rectal tube 
attached to the perfume bottle and replaced it with the new one.
     Frelic waited patiently for his pet to get his fill of the 
delightful Mephit's ass.  Both Furlings were purring loudly as Hansen's 
tongue probed around deep inside Makae; the Squirrel's cock was quite 
hard now and pulsing rhythmically.  This taildiving could very well 
bring the two brats to the summit of the Mink's Mountain quite quickly. 
  But Frelic did not want them to reach the peak just yet, so he gave 
his pet a firm pop on the ass with his open hand to get his attention.
     "Okay, you tail sluts, that should be good for now."
     Reluctantly, Hansen extracted his tongue from Makae's ass and 
pouted at his Master.  "Aw, and we were just getting started too."
     The Skunkette maid giggled cutely, "It's okay, sweetie.  I'm sure 
we will have a chance to finish this later."
     Hansen padded around to stand beside the girl.  She looked over her 
shoulder and winked at him, then planted her muzzle against his.  As 
they kissed, Frelic inserted the tube up the Makae's butt and Hansen 
slipped his tongue into her mouth, letting her taste her own sweetness.
     "This is going to burn a little," Frelic warned her.  He gave the 
bulb on the bottle three hard squeezes and sent a spray of cinnamon oil 
up the girl's ass, thoroughly coating her rectal wall.
     She gave a hard gasp as the spicy hot mist burned inside her, 
almost but not quite like liquid fire.  Her ass clenched hard around the 
tube inside her, and in a moment of mischeviousness, Frelic sprayed 
another burst of the cinnamon perfume deep up her musky butt, causing 
her to whimper and swoon momentarily.  Finally, the burning up inside 
her rectal passage faded to a deep, pleasant warmth, and her muscles 
relaxed, releasing their grip on the tube, which Frelic extracted from 
her depths with one quick and smooth pull.
     He removed the applicator from the tube and handed it to Hansen, 
which the Squirrel immediately stuck in his mouth.  While the Squirrel 
suckled on the Mephit-flavored shaft as if it was a sweet pop, Frelic 
knelt behind Makae and buried his tongue up her butt, testing the exotic 
mix of cinnamon and Furling Skunk lass.  It was more than simply pure 
bliss, the taste was absolute and total Nirvana, as evidenced by the 
intense stiffness of the erection clearly visible between the Elf's legs.
     Lest he spill his seed right there in the lounge, Frelic willed 
himself to disengage from the Skunkette's bottom, and rose to his feet. 
  He gave her a final swat on her delicious ass, and untucked her skirt, 
letting it fall back down to cover her backside again.  Eyes closed, he 
took a few deep breaths, focusing inwardly and willing his arousal to 
fade back to normal levels.  Finally ready, he took the paddle and put 
it in its place on his belt, letting it hand at his left hip as if it 
was a sword, "Come now, my pets," he declared.  Even though Makae was 
not his pet, she smiled and nodded, allowing herself to play that role 
for the Elf for the evening.
     "Let us head downstairs for a night of fine food, fine drink, and 
fine music."  With his soft hands in their furry paws, Frelic led his 
Furling dates across the room and out into the third floor corridor, 
securing the door behind them.


*** To Be Continued...and Continued...And Continued ***

-- Scarletdown
(Spamfoil in place.  Lift MYTAILFEATHERS to reply via email.)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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