Waif and Stray - 7. What Happens When People Don't Think

Charlotte couldn't help but be impressed by Jinx - she'd made a pretty admirable intuitive leap for a kitten her age really. Having retrieved her own black little plushie toy from her room, she'd put it side by side with the white one and was currently tracing a finger along the writing on each, declaring 'Jinx' and 'Ghost' as she did. If an avatar of Imara of Clear Thought Herself had manifested in the living room and declared it to be so, Char still wouldn't believe the pale brunette could actually read the words (though the atheist would have certainly reassessed her beliefs a little), but it was still eyebrow raising that she'd deduced what the white toy said without asking. The girl was maturing so fast, and obviously taking the task of 'teaching' her new packmate very seriously.

The catboy himself sat cross-legged next to her, the attention Jinx took for studious learning actually a curiosity about the words themselves, not the toys. He was on the verge of the realisation that the word Ghost applied to him as a name, primarily because he already understood 'Jinx' referred to his friend. He decided the time was right to go out on a limb. Picking up the black toy and placing it carefully in her lap, he experimentally said "Jincks". The catgirl's eyes went wide, the aroma of her joy filling his nostrils. She picked up the white toy and placed it in the boy's lap, looking at him expectantly. He blinked. This actually wasn't all that challenging - his packmate had only been saying two words.

"Gowst"

As the catgirl squealed in delight and hugged Ghost, Charlotte repeatedly blinked in stunned surprise. Had he just used words without fully understanding them first? Neko can't do that! Even if the catboy had gathered that those were their names it should still be weeks before he said them. She was about to get up, head over to try to get the kitten to repeat himself, when all perdition broke loose.

Ghost fled into the gap between the sofa and the bookcase so fast that a handful of knick knacks and ornaments fell on top of him as he bumped into the tall piece of furniture, eliciting a yelp of pain then complete silence. It was a classic fear response for a young neko - he was hiding, fast as he could. The entire reason they couldn't walk upright for so many of their early years was to keep them close to the den so they could retreat into it at the first sign of danger; up until two days ago Jinx would have done the exact same thing. Now, however, she had a kitten to protect - the catgirl's talons extended, ears close to her head, as she bared sharp canines and hissed dangerously towards the front door, moments before the knock. Had it just been Jinx reacting, Charlotte would surmise it was her foster father - the neko had long ago picked up on her hatred of the man, but Ghost's reaction... she could almost taste soap as she bit back a swearword. If that was Finn and he'd done what she suspected she was going to bloody well skin him.

~☆~

Sara dropped her foster brother at the top of his new home's long driveway. His new home. The thought propelled him happily towards the front door of the cottage, so different from the dead emptiness with which he had regarded his old one since Char had moved out that he felt as if he were floating on air. Trying not to look as though he were a complete loon he struggled to control his grin as he knocked at the door. He knew almost the moment it opened that there was something very, very wrong. Before he had even glanced at his foster sister's face, his gaze settled on a sight out of the fallen god's nightmares through the clear panels of the living room door. Five fully extended claws and a furrowed, furiously frowning brow pressed against the glass, mist from hot breath failing to conceal the gritted fanged teeth set in a pallid white face that had more than a few lank black hairs hanging in front of it. He honestly didn't place the horror as being the cute catgirl he knew and loved until she velveted her talons, face shifting to a look of shocked recognition. What had been wrong with her?

Comprehension dawned like a ton of bricks falling down upon him. The lupo. He'd petted the lupo and she smelled it - and for some reason she hadn't even registered who the scent was on. And if she had sensed it, so would Ghost. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to meet his sister's gaze; he could quite literally count the hours since he'd moved here and he'd already messed it up. Truly, he had a gift.

"Shower. Now." Charlotte didn't even need to ask; the guilt on the boy's face was obvious. He opened his mouth and managed a single 'I' noise before she interrupted him. She really didn't want to hear it yet. "Oh, trust me, we'll be having a long discussion about this Finley Thomas Bryce, once you get that smell off you." The use of his full name had the same effect as it would on the dæmons of myth, and left him in absolutely no doubt as to which end of his anatomy Char would be discussing things with. He obeyed wordlessly, heading straight to the bathroom, his fuming sister stalking after him. She seemed a foot taller than usual as she pointed at the tiled floor, "Clothes there, now, all of them. Any tissues out of pockets, I need to wash the lot." He considered trying to explain that only his hand had touched a wolfboy, but wisely decided it would matter little to her at the moment. Stripping silently, the teenager deposited each article of clothing on the floor as indicated. He felt more exposed than he had at any point since he stepped foot in the house the previous day. "Get in that shower and scrub like your life depends on it boy. Hair to toes. Use my coconut shampoo and body wash; they're the most scented stuff I've got." Charlotte left the bathroom door open as she scooped up his clothes with a hand towel, avoiding touching them, and stormed out; he knew better than to do anything but precisely as he'd been told and left the door, clambering into the bath and pulling the shower curtain closed.

~☆~

Charlotte deposited the tainted clothes and towel in the washing machine, adding a copious quantity of fabric softener and wondering if it might be worth running the load twice. She was actually glad the brat needed to shower; if she'd been this angry with him under different circumstances she'd have him stand in the corner before disciplining him. She idly wondered if the boy realised that corner time before a spanking was for her to cool off, not actually part of the punishment; she couldn't in good conscience put him across her knee when she felt like this, he'd probably never sit again. One thing. She'd asked for one gods damned thing. Shaking her head as she turned on the washer, she leaned against the counter and took a few deep breaths. He was a sixteen year old boy, even if he was usually as good as gold (she already regretted thinking of him as a brat a moment ago - he really wasn't); it had been inevitable that he'd earn a proper butt warming at some point. She hadn't thought it would happen on day two though. Up until this point she'd been intending to generously apply the hairbrush to him, not the little pine one Jinx feared so much, the proper antique mahogany one on her dressing table. She dismissed the thought; the kid already looked pretty sorry and it wouldn't exactly be proportional. She had no doubt it hadn't been willful disobedience, she could tell that the second he had realised what he'd done. She ran through the cliff note version of the lecture she intended to deliver, the systematic ordering of what she was going to say helping to calm her even further. She decided her bedroom was the best execution ground for a few reasons; her dressing table stool was blessedly thickly padded for a start, and having the kid's weight on her lap was going to aggravate her own tender rump (there was an armless wooden chair up there too, but that quite literally would hurt her more than it hurt him). There was Ghost to consider too; last thing the kitten needed was to witness a smacking after whatever events had resulted in the state of the catboy's back. Finally, there was the silent threat of that hairbrush; Finn would have no idea that she had no intention to use it.

Charlotte sighed again. In the few minutes since she'd entered the kitchen, tanning Finn's backside had changed from something she'd been burning to do with every fibre of her being to something she was dreading. She really did love that boy.

Finn heard the bathroom door close as he washed his hair. It was a bit confusing; he couldn't sense anyone in the room with him so he was pretty sure Char wasn't stood watching him to make sure he did a good job, not that he'd blame her. He was so gods damned stupid! Concern for Ghost, overwhelming guilt over his thoughtlessness, and a newfound respect for just how truly dangerous Jinx could probably be if the usually mild-mannered catgirl wanted to - all these thoughts and more crashed through his mind. He finished his ablutions and reached for a towel, freezing as he saw what was sat on the small table by the door. There, crisp, clean and neatly folded were his light blue flannel pyjamas. His mind reeled; at what point over the last few days had being expected to be clothed become a punishment? Because that's what it felt like; his suddenly stinging eyes betrayed any attempt his mind made to interpret the presence of the warm, fluffy bedclothes in any other way.

Trying to banish the thought from his head, he did his best to dry himself as thoroughly as possible. Being spanked on freshly washed, slightly damp skin was the absolute worst - it was pointless to try to fool himself that he could get dry enough to avoid the increased sting it gave before it was time to pay the piper, unless Char planned on having him stand in the corner for a good half hour. He pulled on the soft nightwear and reached for the doorhandle, stopped and stood back. 'You can do this. Deep breath. Another. Now reach for the handle.' His arm steadfastly refused to obey as he swallowed, trembling in fear. Char was furious, and rightly so; it wasn't the spanking he was delaying - that, he felt he totally deserved - it was facing the sister who just the previous day had taken three switches to her rear end just to keep him safe from his foster father, and hadn't even wanted him to know about it. The image of a bright red haired ten year old and what she'd done for him a decade earlier flickered briefly but was instantly banished; if he brought that memory up properly he'd be frozen here until Charlotte came looking for him... and it was definitely not in his best interests to make her come looking. He opened the door to face the music.

Charlotte was stood waiting in the hall when he came out, and had clearly calmed down a little. That wasn't the good news one might expect; he'd been disciplined by her plenty of times over the years and she never started until she was calm, all this meant today is that he was unlikely to get the time he needed to dry. She cooly flicked a finger in the direction of the stairs. "Up."

Like the condemned climbing to the gallows, he ascended as bidden. He'd only been in her bedroom in this house very briefly to grab some clothes when she asked him to get firewood; at some point he was sure he'd have the opportunity to appreciate the ambience of the little attic, but this wasn't the time. She reached the top of the stairs just after he did, passing him and sitting on a stool by an impressively ornate wooden dressing table. His eyes lingered on a familiar wooden hairbrush, easily within her reach, a chill going through him as his rear remembered it's kiss. He advanced as she indicated a point by her right side. "Drop 'em." No messing about then. As his pyjama bottoms hit the floor around his ankles she took hold of his left arm relatively gently and guided him into position over her lap. Her left hand slipped under the hem of his remaining nightwear, taking a position on the small of his back and pressing slightly; it didn't hold him in place with any great force, but definitely reminded who was in charge. Similarly, her other hand rested lightly on his right buttock, enforcing the fact that she would begin when she decided the time was right, not a moment before or after.

Charlotte waited for a long moment she knew would feel like an eternity to the kid. "Would you like to take the opportunity to let me know precisely what was going through your head, Finn? Did putting the fear of perdition into Ghost seem like the most productive use of this evening?

"No! I - we - Sara's friend forgot her pass... we dropped it at her house... she had a l-l-lupo..."

"Ah! Of course!" She tapped her fingertips on the perfectly smooth cheek, "My instructions only applied to lupo from the shelter! The rest smell like roses!"

"I - no - I- I just forgot..."

"Forgot or weren't bloody thinking Finn? Which was it?" She could hear in his voice that he was already holding back tears.

"I... wasn't..."

"That's what I thought." A resounding crack echoed in the small attic space as the first spank landed. She set about building up a foundation of pink on the twin canvasses set before her, the boy's feet shifting to better hold himself still, his tip toes and splayed hands pressed against the red carpet of her bedroom, fingertips digging into the pile. He was clearly trying to be stoic, but then again, she'd barely started.

"The only thing going through your head was Finn. Not Jinx, not what I asked of you, and certainly not poor Ghost. Cute wittle wolfboy make you happy, huh?"

She continued the rhythmic percussion in absolutely no rush. As much as she hated smacking the teenager, there was an important lesson at the end of this and she wasn't stopping until he learned it. A spanking wasn't about quick and obvious reactions, no matter how much her foster father might disagree; if all she wanted were tears she could have them in thirty seconds with the hairbrush or her slipper but that would miss the point entirely. Breaking his will was meaningless at best, psychologically damaging at worst, as was any attempt at revenge. No, this was about the teen understanding what he'd done and how easily he could have avoided ending up here.

Finn grimaced. It wasn't the pain, nor the embarrassment at the moment. He was fully aware his sister could spank far, far harder if she wanted to and seemed to be settling in for the long haul, but even that paled compared to the guilt. He'd been in this position so many times before, but usually there was a shred of unfortunate circumstance, a conniving Chloë, a teacher one could consider a sadist, a foster father whose anger was barely under control... something his mind could share the blame with. Here there was nothing, no mental gymnastics or spin he could put on the situation that relieved him of a single shred of blame. He deserved this thoroughly, wanted it, needed it, longed for Char to grab the hairbrush and bring blessed absolution from this soul-crushing feeling in the glorious blaze of agony he craved - anything, anything but this guilt. In short, he was a million miles from the point and trying to hitch a ride in the wrong direction.

"Do you have any idea what that kitten smelled when you arrived at the door? Any concept what was going through either neko's mind?"

The question startled him out of his self absorbed desire for forgiveness. "I - uh..."

"A predator, Finn. You stank like a predator. Whether lupo are actually any danger to them is irrelevant - they smelled something that their poor brains screamed was going to kill them. Not just a scare, imminent threat of death!"

His eyes bulged at that revelation. "I - I didn't know - I'm sorry! I'm sorry! You didn't say!"

Charlotte stopped spanking, almost smiling that she had got there so easily. Now she could actually get started.

"I see. So, if I have any hope of you doing what I ask you to while you live under my roof, I need to give you bullet points and textbook references of the precise reasons why or you'll just do whatever you damned well please. That's good to know Finley, that's good to know. Five Above and One Below, is there no way you'd just have a little faith in me? A little trust that I wouldn't ask something of you without a damned good reason?"

What she had been doing up until now had been nothing but a warm up; now she actually put some effort in. The boy cried out almost immediately in what might have once been the start of a reply but turned into a howl of pain as she painted red onto pink. He grabbed her left ankle - she always hated that. It had little to do with keeping his balance and everything to do with the contact - he was reaching out for comfort and far from giving it, she was increasing the distress, but the lesson needed driven home, and driven home well.

Finn was stunned, and not just by the merciless spanking that had started up. Of course he trusted her! Of course she didn't have to... but she had. It was hardly surprising she didn't think he trusted her. The realisation that she was right, that he'd pretty much disregarded her one, single instruction simply because he'd assumed it didn't really matter that much hurt far more than the now very hard spanks. He wailed out his apologies and assurances, aware he was babbling and making precious little sense as tears ran down his face and dripped to the carpet, snot running unnoticed as he writhed under Charlotte's barrage of smacks on his poor, burning hot bottom. His hand moved from her ankle seemingly of it's own accord, reaching back to try to protect his rear end.

Char didn't miss a stroke. She made no effort to grab the arm or pin it to the teenager's back as he doubtless half expected, instead just turning her attention to the still pale backs of his thighs. Not having had them warmed up and primed for such punishment, Finn literally screamed. His violent bucking on her lap sent shocks of pain through her own damaged rump and her hand throbbed with the ache that came only from delivering a sound spanking. It didn't matter, they were so very nearly there.

Finn gathered every shred of willpower he had remaining, sending it all to his arm, forcing it back to his foster sibling's ankle. The other hand gripped the wooden leg of the stool she sat on, both squeezing with all his might as she reverted to her original target. He babbled his apologies, his assurances, his promises on everything that lay between elysium and perdition that he'd be a good boy, her good boy, her very good boy from now until his dying day, not even registering that the spanks had stopped falling.

Charlotte let Finn lie there making noises that could shatter her heart had this not been so very necessary if she was ever going to trust him to do as she bade when it was important. She rubbed his bare back in gentle circles, his pyjama top having bunched under his arms long since. As he stopped the jumbled syllables she assumed were apologies and promises and calmed to the point of just constant weeping, she lifted him to his feet. The teen had kicked off the pyjama bottoms ages ago, and she almost cried herself when he tried to shuffle into the corner, hands reaching to his head. She stopped him and gently led him to the bed. Sitting, legs spread slightly, she sat him on her knee, sliding his almost solidly bright red bottom sideways between them and lifting his legs over her right thigh. He embraced her tightly, burying his head into her shoulder after she'd gently wiped his face and nose with a tissue. She wrapped her arms around her freshly spanked little brother and held him close, smoothing his hair and whispering that all was forgiven and she loved him so very much.

Finn gradually calmed. His rear ached, his throat hoarse from pleading, yet feeling completely washed free of the guilt he'd felt before. After a good, long while wrapped together like that, Char gently told him she needed to check on Ghost, to make sure Jinx had managed to calm him down, and suggested he lie down on her bed and gather himself a bit before he came down and put on his neko ears when he was ready. He nodded his assent and crawled onto his belly on Charlotte's big double bed.

After she'd left, like all subjects of a sound smacking he felt the perverse need to look upon the damage. With surprise he noticed a small patch of unspanked skin at the side of his right buttock. It was too obvious, too regularly shaped and too clearly defined to be accidental... with a start, he realised that in the centre of the small white patch lay three bright red pinpricks.

Zack could have absolutely squeezed his cousin to death. He'd only been home a few hours and just gotten out of the bath when she'd texted, somehow she'd managed to get hold of the new address of his beautiful young obsession in that short amount of time. He knew he shouldn't be doing this today; he was going to have to run at full pelt all of the way home to be back in time to avoid breaking curfew. He doubted there was a living creature on the face of the planet that lacked a healthy fear of it's mother's wrath.

The little converted farm building was picturesque even by the standards of the small country town. Ivy seemed to hold the place in a tight, loving embrace, warm lights welcoming in the dark evening gloom. There hadn't been another sign of civilisation beyond the road he was walking on for at least the last mile, and Zack's throat was dry and his body trembling for reasons that had little to do with the cold. He didn't really believe the stories of what happened to relationships with loved ones if you failed to give them a Midwinter present, but wasn't taking the chance.

As he crept up the driveway, the unmistakable sounds of a really, really thorough spanking echoed out of the upper portion of the house. He winced in sympathy, his hand giving the back of his jeans an unconscious rub. There was no way the poor victim was anyone but Finn; the wails were most certainly coming from a boy whose voice was almost finished breaking. Guilt flushed him - he was invading on a moment that should definitely be private between disciplinarian and the corrected; he'd be mortified if a classmate eavesdopped on his own sessions over an adult's knee. Slipping the envelope he clutched through the letterbox, he turned and fled into the night.

~☆~

Charlotte descended the stairs, so glad the spanking was over. On reflection she'd been wrong, it was probably for the best that they'd had this little meeting of minds so soon after the teenager moved in; it was going to be painful enough when Ghost started pushing boundaries without Finn throwing himself against them at the same time. She really hoped the thought that she'd send him back to the foster home had never crossed his mind - she thought he'd know better than that, at least. Frowning, she picked up the plain white envelope from the doormat, turning it over in her hands. 'To Finn. Happy Midwinter' was written neatly on the front. No postage - it had been hand delivered, it seemed, and she didn't recognise the handwriting. It wasn't stiff so wasn't just a greeting card. She didn't hold much in the way of religious belief herself, but had no idea about the sender's feelings on the matter and it would potentially be pretty disrespectful to let Finn open it before Midwinter morning, so decided to put it up on the top shelf of the small pantry at the back of the kitchen with the other presents and with everything else that was going on utterly forgot it had ever existed.

Jinx regarded Char warily as she passed through the living room then returned almost immediately. The catgirl's ears were guiltily flat against her head, the only pale bottom in the house tensing in wary anticipation. Not only was the woman clearly in a spanking mood worthy of deep respect (Finn's ordeal had been clearly audible) but threatening people with claws and teeth was a High Crime. She was almost sure she was in for the high jump and was pleasantly relieved when Charlotte gave her head a friendly rub.

"I'm sorry you were scared, sweetness, Finn wasn't thinking. He smelled like a lupo, didn't he? He's very sorry and will be down in a bit to apologise for playing with wolfboys without warning us first. Are you OK? Don't worry, I know you just wanted to protect Ghost."

Jinx was in absolutely no doubt that Finn was sorry; her rear had been practically twinging in response to every smack delivered to the boy. Lupo, so that's what the smell had been. It had been so long since she'd experienced it - on Sara, years ago - that her conscious mind hadn't comprehended what it was. She'd barely been able to think at all to be honest; pure instinct had taken over, completely overriding everything else until her eyes told her it was the familiar young human. Even this had taken long moments to comprehend; his scent and emotions had been subsumed utterly by the crushing, gut-wrenching terror... Jinx nodded that she was fine. Big girls didn't get scared, it wasn't Dignified. Little boys though...

Charlotte was already crouching down, looking into the kitten's hiding place. Ghost's mind had taken a good, long time to get even close to coherent thought, and still wasn't quite there. The sound of the distress from his playmate hadn't helped at all - in his mind, the source of the odour had gotten to the bigger boy, had been doing what Bad Things did to the neko and humans they manage to catch. Unknown to anyone present, that smell didn't mean 'predator' to the kitten, hadn't in a good, long time. The next building over from the place he'd been caged held lupo - that smell wafted in whenever his tormentors had opened the door. He had been sure they'd found him, were coming to drag him back...

Fortunately, none of the ornaments he'd dislodged from the bookshelf had done any damage to him as they rained down, he simply didn't have the mass to dislodge anything substantial, but they had surprised him unpleasantly enough that he'd had a little 'accident' on the hardwood floor. Jinx had been trying to coax him out since the sounds of Finn's smacking had stopped, it clearly being a pointless exercise before that stage, but her scent wasn't actually the one he desired at the moment.

The catboy had very definitely begun to associate the scents of his three companions with feelings, beyond the temporary emotions any of them gave off. Finn was fun and mischief; new but enjoyable sensations. Jinx held love; he'd already taken the first steps toward the feelings he'd nurture for the catgirl that would blossom into a truly unbreakable adoration by the time they had kits of their own years later. Had Jinx had the time, she would have eventually gotten through to him... but Charlotte though. Charlotte had rescued him, delivered him like a personal saviour from a torment beyond measure already. Charlotte was what he wanted, the scent of safety and comfort that he craved in his soul. The deep recesses of his mind tied her to someone he'd been separated from far too early to have any real memory of, yet still existed deep in his subconscious. Charlotte was Mother.

The catboy leapt into her arms as soon as Char peered into the hidey hole, and she lifted him almost exactly as she had when she first saved him from his grimy cage. His little bottom was clammy to her hand as she supported his weight, hoping the bruises weren't too painful as she did so. The sensation, and certainly the smell, told her the poor thing had emptied his bladder in fright - between that and Finn's wet tears and nasal discharge still shining on her shoulder she was regretting putting the washing machine on so soon. Standing and cradling the catboy close, she shushed and cooed at him soothingly, the tiny body still trembling against her. It was very clearly going to be a long time before the kitten let go - she foresaw him being with her when she showered, to be honest; they were both going to need it tonight. It was possible the poor thing would even end up spending the night in her arms.

Finn had stopped crying a while ago. He lay on his stomach on Char's bed finding comfort in minutae; he'd found a single hair on the pillow, long, fine and jet black, that had obviously once adorned Jinx's head. The catgirl must sleep up here with his sister sometimes. Unconscious of the fact that the events of the last hour had somehow finally purged the last inclination his mind would ever have to apply the word 'foster' to his relationship with the young woman, he rolled the stray hair between his thumb and forefinger. He wasn't quite ready to look her in the eye. Not Char; Jinx. He dreaded seeing judgement there, barely (if at all) concealed hatred over him upsetting Ghost. Charlotte had volunteered to take him in; the catgirl basically hadn't had a say in the matter. He toyed with the idea of insisting she break in her new paddle on his backside despite it's current hot glow, but it wasn't his place to tell a pack superior when to discipline him any more than it was to object if they did. No, he owed an apology and obedience. Ghost was an even trickier matter - the kitten wouldn't even properly grasp an apology's meaning. How did real neko make amends to social equals?

Sighing, the teenager stood up stiffly. His rear end tingled warmly; it might be pleasant by now if it hadn't been a punishment for such stupidity. No matter how much the idea of being spanked secretly turned him on there was no pleasure in what had just happened. The hurt in Char's eyes... he swallowed, his eyes hot, dangerously close to crying again. He picked up his pyjama bottoms, slowly crept down the stairs into the playroom and slipped off his top, donning the spectacular neko ears (stop it Finn don't cry again stop it she still loves you and doesn't regret buying them even if you know for a FACT she had to have dipped into inheritance from her dead parents to do it 'cos you'd have had to do the same and her only job is a few shifts at a fast food place and these are beautiful and expensive she still loves you and doesn't regret it don't cry not again) and dropped to his knees. He crawled through to the hallway and lightly scratched at the living room door.

Charlotte was still stood with Ghost by the fireplace. She was almost certain sitting with the catboy would be a bad idea; he had been kneeling before he leapt into her arms and had to have urine all over his lower body. It needed off him before too long - a rash on that bruised rump would be perdition for the critter - but needed his mind in a better place before they got in the shower. It was a gradual process, gentle nuzzles and kisses at the top of his snowy head leading to it starting to rub against her for comfort, stroking his skin bringing the little face up, kisses to his forehead and gentle humming finally getting sad eye contact. The mismatched green and browns with vertical pupils met the round ones set in light greens flecked with brown, understanding that there was safety now passing between them. Yeah, he would be OK, she thought. There was a light scratching at the door, no sign of anyone through the glass panels that only started halfway up it.

"Come in kitten." Finn entered slowly on hands and knees, head downcast. "Do you have something to say?"

This was hard. Finn wanted to sing his soul out, to babble his apologies, explain exactly what had happened and beg forgiveness from both neko, but it wasn't an option. He'd been searching for a few words that encompassed hundreds, but suddenly realised in the moment it was totally unnecessary. He only needed one, the rest wasn't about speech. "Sorry" the teen said, and felt it, tried to radiate the honest contrition outward as hard as he could. It wasn't difficult at all; he was very sorry, and the spanking had purged any guilt that might confuse the scent.

Jinx reacted immediately, crossing the distance and hugging the human as hard as she could. She registered his shock and was faintly surprised herself; of course she forgave him! What a horrible, horrible place the world would be if you weren't forgiven after you'd been punished! Finn was part of her Tribe. Not pack - he wasn't neko and the part of her mind that formed that particular type of bond needed pheromones the human's body simply didn't produce - but that wasn't necessary at all. It was more comparable to the difference between close family and very best friend.

Ghost, who hadn't even realised Finn was responsible in any way for the terrifying smell, reached a slender hand in the teen's direction and opened and closed it in a desire for contact with the boy who smelled so deeply of remorse - remarkably so for a human - but Char had very definitely different opinions about where the diminutive catboy needed to be. "Right, this one and I need a shower, I think. Jinx, could you get Finn a cloth and stuff so he can clean up the puddle Ghost left back there?"

This seemed perfect reasonable to Finn, who emitted an even stronger scent of contrite sorrow at the realisation Ghost had been so scared he wet himself. Jinx trotted to the kitchen and Char out of the other door. The teen crawled toward the source of the odour of urine. When the catgirl returned he took the cloth, paper towels and cleaning spray, setting to his allotted task.

Jinx's eyes widened as Finn bent over to clean up. Wow, but Char had outdone herself with that one! The boy's rear was bright, solid red, if he bent over by the hearth they probably wouldn't need a fire that evening! She couldn't even make out handprints. Unaware that her much more fair, almost translucent skin actually coloured far easier than Finn's, she equated it to a hairbrushing, though in reality Char only really ever gave her quick taps with a flick of the wrist even at her naughtiest. She couldn't resist, and reached out to trace her fingertips across the skin. Oh, now that was quite some heat...

Finn shuddered with embarrassment. He was bent, mopping up pee, while a catgirl that held dominion over him stroked his well-spanked, naughty bottom. Jinx muttered "Ouch" as he finished, letting him pop to the kitchen to dispose of the cloths, where he further cringed at the sight of a small diaper pail. Yeah, that was coming too, he supposed. He cleaned his hands then returned, surprised to find Jinx holding the Aloe Vera moisturiser she'd applied to Char the previous day and pointing to the sofa. He almost laughed; not only had the catgirl forgiven him, she wanted to relieve the fire in his rear end. He half thought he should refuse and cherish the deserved heat but he wasn't calling the shots so obeyed, acquiescence coming easily after his recent correction. Since the apology had worked so well, he tried to convey his thanks without uttering a word as she began.

Jinx tried her best to be careful, but still got a fair few gasps and whimpers as she gently rubbed the soothingly cool lotion into hot skin. At least the boy was likely to behave well for a while, she supposed, though he did seem to possess pretty insatiable mischief in his soul. Gratitude smelled stronger than the lotion - this was pretty new; since he'd come into the room he almost seemed to be broadcasting his emotions as strongly as if he were actually neko. It was refreshing she thought; made understanding him far easier than the usual human obsession with flapping their tongues did. See? All humans needed to do was walk in a neko's shoes (or lack of them) for a bit and their lives would be much easier.