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\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tKittoradra\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tKittoradra\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
. Trika finds himself in a bit of hot water.

Trika Endross and Reginald Barkly are Kitra's characters and are represented here with his permission. Simon Valas is my character, please message if you want to use him in your own work.

Posted using PostyBirb", "writing": "Trika Hates Balls\n\nS-cop-eh\n\nThe door opened fully and a tall tiger dressed in a deep blue double-breasted coat and matching breeches tucked into impeccably shined riding boots stepped in. His eyes registered the bare-assed lion kneeling on the floor near one of the couches. For a moment he thought he'd walked in on someone relieving themselves but noted that the chamber pot was not anywhere near the kneeling man, the silhouette of his generous balls and cock visible between his legs, the pink skin of his tailhole just barely peeking from beneath the long tail.\n\nThe necessity for politeness quickly pushed any concern, confusion, or anything else out of his mind. ``Forgive me, good sire,'' he said loudly, serving to both announce himself, and cover any embarrassment with sheer volume. ``The door was not locked, I assumed it was unoccupied! Again, a thousand pardons, and I shall leave you to your privacy!'' Except he said ``privacy'' like ``PRIV-uh-see,'' in a way that marked him as not only being of high station, but of being insufferably aware of it.\n\n``Ah, no pardons are needed, sir,'' Trika replied with thinly veiled disdain. He stood and strolled over to one of several ornately inlaid chamber pots along the wall, still leaving his boots and breeches in a bit of a pile next to the couch. Running a paw through his mane and leaning his head back, he took very little care for aiming as he emptied his bladder into the porcelain. ``Come come, no need to be shy. We're men here, we know what we're about.'' He didn't really care what the other man did, but he certainly didn't want the stuffy feline to just stand there huffing and attempting to assuage everyone's dignity in a three league radius.\n\nThe tiger placed his feathered hat on a counter and strode over to another chamber pot, fishing himself out of his own breeches to follow the lion ferret's lead. He could not, however, keep himself from glancing over at the younger, clearly less well-dressed man. As much out of curiosity about why he had completely removed his lower garments as anything.\n\nTrika noticed. He smiled. ``It is too bad you didn't make your way in a minute sooner. You would have been greeted by quite a sight.'' Finishing up, the brash sailor padded back to the couch and sat down, working his breeches back on.\n\n``Oh yes?'' the tiger replied. He was not entirely sure what had taken place before he walked in, but the other's tone suggested it was something of a lascivious nature, and he swelled a bit in his paw.\n\n``Yes indeed. I was, hm, sampling a local delicacy. Quite delicious, oh yes. Very delicious.''\n\nThe tiger grinned, finishing as well and turning back to face the sandy-furred fellow. Protocol and politeness broken, he made no move to hide himself away, and in fact openly stroked himself to full mast. He imagined that perhaps the other had romped with the adorable little skunk, or perhaps the wife of a rival Councilor, a big-breasted bear that he often lusted after.\n\n``I suspect this one would have been rather to your taste, in fact,'' Trika said, pulling his boots up by the cuffs and beginning to tighten the laces. ``I dare say I had him quite in a tizzy. Practically begging. Gave him what for, you can be sure of that.''\n\n``Oh my, to my taste? And how is that?'' He was working himself up into his own tizzy, eyes glazing a bit as he assumed it had in fact been the feminine skunk that had been serving drinks. After all, hadn't he seen the waiter make his way down this hall a while back, and returning seeming a bit flustered? Yes, that must have been it.\n\n``Well,'' Trika said, standing now. ``He was a beautiful tiger, with the softest of rumps.''\n\nThe Councilor's paw stopped and his eyes shot open, lust quickly turning to a seething anger as the meaning sunk in. ``A....tiger?''\n\n``Ah, yes. Yes. He was quite skilled with his mouth, as well. I suspect he could take you rather easily. But his tail was soft, and I most assuredly made it mine today.''\n\nBeginning to square his shoulders and puff his chest up, his anger barely boiling beneath the surface, ``And was this tiger, by chance, wearing robins-egg blue? With silver threading?''\n\n``Yyyyeeess,'' Trika hazarded slowly. He's not the always the quickest one around. His dun colored brow was furrowed around his pale golden eyes. He thought maybe what he was seeing was jealousy, that he'd taken a prize that this stuffed shirt had pined for.\n\n``THAT. WAS. MY. SON!'' he stuttered out, teeth bared and spittle flying. ``DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? AND WHAT YOU HAVE DONE?'' he now roared.\n\nPieces falling into place, Trika demonstrated two of the ways in which he could occasionally be the quickest one around. ``He may be your son, but I was his daddy just now.''\n\nThe tiger lunged, but Trika was already on his way to the door, flinging it open and barreling through it. His would-be captor had to waste time tucking himself back into his breeches before tearing after the swishing tail of the receding man, his lion's haunches now serving their purpose and propelling him rapidly through the ballroom.\n\nTrika caught a quick sight of Simon at a table, trying to pretend like he wasn't thinking about the fucking he'd just had and that he gave even the slightest damn about the price of wool or the shortage of good cedar. Trika flashed a quick smile, his ferret's face the epitome of mischief, as he blazed past the party guests and out the front door.\n\nSimon's smile turned very quickly into a look of shock and fear as he saw his father ripping through the same room as quickly as he could, hindered somewhat by the fact that his boots were for looks rather than practicality. Nonetheless, he kept decent pace behind his target, all the while continuing to scream at him.\n\n- \n\n``Oi! Reg!'' the lookout shouted down from the crow's nest.\n\n``Ey, what is it?'' the quartermaster replied without bothering to remove his hat from over his face. He'd been napping, you see. ``You know what they say about sleeping dogs, Tim?''\n\n``Aye, but. Reg, uh. Captain's coming back.''\n\n``And the fuck should I care about that? Unless he's dragging an army after him.''\n\n``Uh. Reg. About that.''\n\nThe quartermaster stood up, then, and looked up at the ram atop the mast, who was looking inland with a small telescope. ``Report, crewman!'' he shouted up, immediately kicking into full alert.\n\n``Aye, sir! Captain making haste inbound, followed by...looks like three men. Two city watch and, one...One looks like a fuckin' dandy, sir. Pardon.''\n\nReginald closed his eyes for a moment, quickly and accurately coming to the conclusion that the Captain, his friend, had gotten Up To Somethingtm. He began barking orders out, rousing the crew. It was fortunate that this stop had not been expected to be long, so few had gone out on any shore leave and were all close enough by to come scrambling.\n\nSails billowed, ropes strained, men ran to and fro, wood and fiber creaked as the crew worked to quickly get the ship ready to shove off and make for open waters. The quartermaster snagged a young crewman as he ran by. ``Come with me.'' The boy obeyed, and the two made their way over to the gangway.\n\n``Heave!'' he shouted back to the crew. And heave they did as soon as lashings had been unlashed, beginning to push away from the dock. The brown and white spaniel grabbed hold of the gangway, the young pig he had conscripted followed his lead. They leaned, pushing the long plank out from the deck as far as they could. The captain was in sight now, panting but running hard, not looking back. The gangway lifted off the dock as the ship moved out. The two sailors strained to keep it in place. The gap widened, now there was about a foot of water between safety and certain imprisonment. With a yell and a leap, Trika launched himself from the dock as far up the boards as he could and held on while Reg and the crewman pulled the gangway back in.\n\nThe two antelope that had been on his tail, and the noticeably disheveled tiger, slowed and came to a stop at the end of the dock, now out of reach of the impertinent sailor. ``IF YOU EVER DOCK HERE AGAIN, I WILL TORCH YOUR BLASTED SHIP, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME TRIKA ENDROSS? FAMILY NAME BE FUCKED!''\n\nTrika merely waved, then turned to his quartermaster and friend with as big a grin as he could have.\n\n``You fucked his wife. And bragged about it,'' Reginald said. It was a statement, not a question.\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Trika Hates Balls

S-cop-eh

The door opened fully and a tall tiger dressed in a deep blue double-breasted coat and matching breeches tucked into impeccably shined riding boots stepped in. His eyes registered the bare-assed lion kneeling on the floor near one of the couches. For a moment he thought he'd walked in on someone relieving themselves but noted that the chamber pot was not anywhere near the kneeling man, the silhouette of his generous balls and cock visible between his legs, the pink skin of his tailhole just barely peeking from beneath the long tail.

The necessity for politeness quickly pushed any concern, confusion, or anything else out of his mind. ``Forgive me, good sire,'' he said loudly, serving to both announce himself, and cover any embarrassment with sheer volume. ``The door was not locked, I assumed it was unoccupied! Again, a thousand pardons, and I shall leave you to your privacy!'' Except he said ``privacy'' like ``PRIV-uh-see,'' in a way that marked him as not only being of high station, but of being insufferably aware of it.

``Ah, no pardons are needed, sir,'' Trika replied with thinly veiled disdain. He stood and strolled over to one of several ornately inlaid chamber pots along the wall, still leaving his boots and breeches in a bit of a pile next to the couch. Running a paw through his mane and leaning his head back, he took very little care for aiming as he emptied his bladder into the porcelain. ``Come come, no need to be shy. We're men here, we know what we're about.'' He didn't really care what the other man did, but he certainly didn't want the stuffy feline to just stand there huffing and attempting to assuage everyone's dignity in a three league radius.

The tiger placed his feathered hat on a counter and strode over to another chamber pot, fishing himself out of his own breeches to follow the lion ferret's lead. He could not, however, keep himself from glancing over at the younger, clearly less well-dressed man. As much out of curiosity about why he had completely removed his lower garments as anything.

Trika noticed. He smiled. ``It is too bad you didn't make your way in a minute sooner. You would have been greeted by quite a sight.'' Finishing up, the brash sailor padded back to the couch and sat down, working his breeches back on.

``Oh yes?'' the tiger replied. He was not entirely sure what had taken place before he walked in, but the other's tone suggested it was something of a lascivious nature, and he swelled a bit in his paw.

``Yes indeed. I was, hm, sampling a local delicacy. Quite delicious, oh yes. Very delicious.''

The tiger grinned, finishing as well and turning back to face the sandy-furred fellow. Protocol and politeness broken, he made no move to hide himself away, and in fact openly stroked himself to full mast. He imagined that perhaps the other had romped with the adorable little skunk, or perhaps the wife of a rival Councilor, a big-breasted bear that he often lusted after.

``I suspect this one would have been rather to your taste, in fact,'' Trika said, pulling his boots up by the cuffs and beginning to tighten the laces. ``I dare say I had him quite in a tizzy. Practically begging. Gave him what for, you can be sure of that.''

``Oh my, to my taste? And how is that?'' He was working himself up into his own tizzy, eyes glazing a bit as he assumed it had in fact been the feminine skunk that had been serving drinks. After all, hadn't he seen the waiter make his way down this hall a while back, and returning seeming a bit flustered? Yes, that must have been it.

``Well,'' Trika said, standing now. ``He was a beautiful tiger, with the softest of rumps.''

The Councilor's paw stopped and his eyes shot open, lust quickly turning to a seething anger as the meaning sunk in. ``A....tiger?''

``Ah, yes. Yes. He was quite skilled with his mouth, as well. I suspect he could take you rather easily. But his tail was soft, and I most assuredly made it mine today.''

Beginning to square his shoulders and puff his chest up, his anger barely boiling beneath the surface, ``And was this tiger, by chance, wearing robins-egg blue? With silver threading?''

``Yyyyeeess,'' Trika hazarded slowly. He's not the always the quickest one around. His dun colored brow was furrowed around his pale golden eyes. He thought maybe what he was seeing was jealousy, that he'd taken a prize that this stuffed shirt had pined for.

``THAT. WAS. MY. SON!'' he stuttered out, teeth bared and spittle flying. ``DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? AND WHAT YOU HAVE DONE?'' he now roared.

Pieces falling into place, Trika demonstrated two of the ways in which he could occasionally be the quickest one around. ``He may be your son, but I was his daddy just now.''

The tiger lunged, but Trika was already on his way to the door, flinging it open and barreling through it. His would-be captor had to waste time tucking himself back into his breeches before tearing after the swishing tail of the receding man, his lion's haunches now serving their purpose and propelling him rapidly through the ballroom.

Trika caught a quick sight of Simon at a table, trying to pretend like he wasn't thinking about the fucking he'd just had and that he gave even the slightest damn about the price of wool or the shortage of good cedar. Trika flashed a quick smile, his ferret's face the epitome of mischief, as he blazed past the party guests and out the front door.

Simon's smile turned very quickly into a look of shock and fear as he saw his father ripping through the same room as quickly as he could, hindered somewhat by the fact that his boots were for looks rather than practicality. Nonetheless, he kept decent pace behind his target, all the while continuing to scream at him.

-

``Oi! Reg!'' the lookout shouted down from the crow's nest.

``Ey, what is it?'' the quartermaster replied without bothering to remove his hat from over his face. He'd been napping, you see. ``You know what they say about sleeping dogs, Tim?''

``Aye, but. Reg, uh. Captain's coming back.''

``And the fuck should I care about that? Unless he's dragging an army after him.''

``Uh. Reg. About that.''

The quartermaster stood up, then, and looked up at the ram atop the mast, who was looking inland with a small telescope. ``Report, crewman!'' he shouted up, immediately kicking into full alert.

``Aye, sir! Captain making haste inbound, followed by...looks like three men. Two city watch and, one...One looks like a fuckin' dandy, sir. Pardon.''

Reginald closed his eyes for a moment, quickly and accurately coming to the conclusion that the Captain, his friend, had gotten Up To Somethingtm. He began barking orders out, rousing the crew. It was fortunate that this stop had not been expected to be long, so few had gone out on any shore leave and were all close enough by to come scrambling.

Sails billowed, ropes strained, men ran to and fro, wood and fiber creaked as the crew worked to quickly get the ship ready to shove off and make for open waters. The quartermaster snagged a young crewman as he ran by. ``Come with me.'' The boy obeyed, and the two made their way over to the gangway.

``Heave!'' he shouted back to the crew. And heave they did as soon as lashings had been unlashed, beginning to push away from the dock. The brown and white spaniel grabbed hold of the gangway, the young pig he had conscripted followed his lead. They leaned, pushing the long plank out from the deck as far as they could. The captain was in sight now, panting but running hard, not looking back. The gangway lifted off the dock as the ship moved out. The two sailors strained to keep it in place. The gap widened, now there was about a foot of water between safety and certain imprisonment. With a yell and a leap, Trika launched himself from the dock as far up the boards as he could and held on while Reg and the crewman pulled the gangway back in.

The two antelope that had been on his tail, and the noticeably disheveled tiger, slowed and came to a stop at the end of the dock, now out of reach of the impertinent sailor. ``IF YOU EVER DOCK HERE AGAIN, I WILL TORCH YOUR BLASTED SHIP, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME TRIKA ENDROSS? FAMILY NAME BE FUCKED!''

Trika merely waved, then turned to his quartermaster and friend with as big a grin as he could have.

``You fucked his wife. And bragged about it,'' Reginald said. It was a statement, not a question.

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