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At the dying of the year, Skal awoke in Sam's bed to find her curled around and on top of him. Her blonde furred, wolfish head rested atop his chest, a faint smile upon her muzzle as his heartbeat soothed her dreams. While both physically five years old, in many ways their minds could still process the world as the adults they had once been, a fact that had been of vital importance to Sam in coping with the trauma of the home invasion. The childish side of their new existence had left her sulking and angry many times, but between her closest friend and the ghost of the woman she used to be, Sam had started to rationalise her experience. Skal still saw the difference in her; she was less confident now, and their banter was devoid of the cheeky innuendos she usually threw around. Where she'd once claimed to find nudity liberating, she was now fearfully self-conscious about herself. That would make today that much worse for her.

The door slid open and Sam's adoptive mother, the human named Eve entered the room. Skal pretended to be asleep, watching her with his thermal sense. The warm, humanoid blob of amber hovered in the middle of the room for a long time, watching silently. He was no expert at reading human emotions, but if pressed Skal would have said she was sad. Eve had lost a mate and suffered just as Sam had, but as far as Skal knew she had no-one to turn to for comfort. At last, the woman stepped forward and place a hand on her daughter's back, rocking her carefully to bring her to round. "Time to get up you two. You have a long day ahead."

The two Kyyreni rejuves washed and dressed together. Kadan had left Skal a plain kilt to wear and a simple shirt with elbow-length sleeves, clearly not wanting the boy to be associated with the Enforcer's Guild today. He wore his shirt open, letting it nicely frame the life-ring he wore around his neck.

"She's with Vorhol, right?" Sam asked as she put her own shirt and pants on, her eyes fixed on the ring.

Skal took the token into his paw. His thumb gently traced the runic inscription. "Yes, at least I hope so."

The girl glanced towards the door, as though checking to make sure her mother wasn't listening in. "Where do you think they go? The people without souls?"

"I never thought about it. I guess they go back to their God? I'm not the one to ask."

Sam sniffled, wiping her nose on her clean sleeve, "the smithy-priest didn't seem to know either. He told me that Humans don't seem to know either, that a lot of them think this life is all they have. The Forgiven said that even humans have a soul, that I could see my dad again if he was a good person in the eyes of God."

Skal frowned, "who are 'The Forgiven'?"

Sam never answered. Eve reappeared to usher them to the breakfast table for a light meal before the day began. It was a quiet breakfast, and a quiet journey to the Palace Common. It wasn't fear that kept the silence, although both Skal and Sam felt a growing apprehension that gave way to dread upon finally arriving. Instead, it was an emptiness that choked any discussion. A hole in the world left by a loved one's absence. They walked the whole way, causing the journey to be far longer than it had to be. Eve held Sam's hand the whole way, the two of them exchanging irregular glances at one another, unable or unwilling to say what was on their minds. Skal settled for trying to walk tall for Sam's sake, wishing to be strong for her.

Rather than approaching the Common via the normal route, Eve led her charges towards the tiny Enforcer precinct on the north-west corner. Skal caught a brief sight of Kadan mingled with other Enforcers, priests and volunteers all dedicated to making today a memorable and miserable experience for all those unfortunate enough to be Penitatas. Even though the Common was blocked from sight the sound of it carried to the Kyyreni children's ears. There was a crowd here already. They entered the precinct and were met at once by Torn, who recognised Skal and beckoned him forwards. "Since you're not in uniform you must be on the receiving end," the young man stated.

Skal nodded shyly, his heart hammering in his chest. Memories of the lashing he took at the Billet flooded through his mind, making him sweat with dread. He clenched his eyes shut and gulped down lungfuls of air, trying to be calm. Torn, seeing his reaction, placed a hand upon his shoulder, "Hey, relax. This'll be cake for you. Go to 'B' group with your friend." The young male beckoned Sam to move, indicating that this was where their mother should part ways. With a long hug goodbye, Sam was separated from her parent, taking Skal's paw in her own as they walked together to their fate.

The rejuves were being split into three groups, although the rhyme and reason for the groupings was lost on the pair as they found their place. There was only one other Penitatas waiting when they arrived outside their allocated room, a young girl who Skal felt like he knew but couldn't identify. She entered the room almost immediately, beckoned in by a smithy-priest of Vorhol. "What happens now?" Sam whispered with a squeeze of Skal's paw.

The boy tried to recall what he could of the event. He hadn't been told everything, but he still knew more than most would. "I think we're being judged. The punishment we get is based on how we behaved this year. Since everyone got sentenced this year it's not likely to go well for us." He cursed himself for saying that as soon as the words left his muzzle, as Sam let out a frightened gasp and began sniffling again. Just a few minutes later the door opened and the Penny stranger emerged again being led away by a volunteer. The girl's muzzle was soaked with tears and she was frantically begging in a timid, desperate voice for mercy. Moments later the priest stepped into view. "Skal and Sam, yes? I was told to expect you. You can face me alone or together, whichever you prefer."

Sam didn't need to give her answer. Skal gave her a brief hug of support before guiding her inside. There was only one stool set in the room, so Skal chose to stand and let his friend sit in judgement. The priest took some time to review his tablet, scrolling through unseen notes before placing the device aside and looking directly at Sam. "I think we shall begin with you, young lady. It appears to me that you had a great deal of potential. A well-to-do family, good education, not stupid by any measure. Yet here you are. Is that really the best you could have been? A fence for stolen goods?"

"I'm s-sorry," Sam whimpered, her muzzle hung low as tears darkened her fur.

"Coming from a convicted liar that means little," the priest replied, his tone calmly indifferent. "You not only worked for thieves, but you claimed to be certified by half a dozen Guilds so people would believe you were a reputable seller. Not only do you shame yourself, but you drag these noble institutions into disrepute."

"Leave her alone!" Skal growled, baring his shark-like teeth to the Dawnsider priest. The man glanced toward him, unimpressed by the show of bravado.

"Then let us speak of you, Skal. A ganger, a young man who wasted his life in pointless acts of violence and petty acts of crime. What have you ever done besides make other people miserable?"

"I've done plenty!" the boy snapped back, clutching his mother's life-ring for emotional support. He tried to calm himself, wishing to speak with certainty rather than childish anger. "I've done a lot this year. I know how this works; we're being judged for what we did, and since I got sentenced in the summer every past crime is being held against me. But I'm not the man I was six months ago."

"Obviously," the priest replied with a sarcastic grunt. Skal bared his teeth at the man, stepping forward to stand in front of Sam as though shielding her.

"I used to be a gang-lad. Now I'm an Enforcer. A Corrector working for the very system that's punishing us right now. I turned in former members, I vowed to learn to serve a Guild that used to be my sworn enemy. I made peace with the man who wanted me dead when we first met. And..." he glanced back towards Sam, whose frightened eyes met his own. "...and I fell in love."

He flashed Sam a brief smile before facing the priest again. "I've become a symbol to other Penitatas. I helped inspire a reform to the system, one that helped stop the worst abuses being done by people like Lady Sin. I fought to rescue a boy named Hafn from Black Pit when he was sent their unfairly. I would never have done any of that before. I don't care what my criminal record says, I say that I am a far better man now than I ever was!"

A slow grin spread across the priest's face as Skal's words died away. "Yes, Skal. I am inclined to agree."

He walked slowly to one side so that he could see past the dumbfounded boy, who clearly expected more push-back from his speech, so that Sam could be seen more clearly. "What about you, young lady? Skal has spoken in his own defence. What have you to say?"

Sam reached up to take Skal's hand before speaking. "I... I am... I was..." she faltered, left fighting for composure as emotions boiled inside of herself. The priest gave her a patient nod and a few quiet words of encouragement, letting her take her time. "I lived in secret before, pretending to be a man. I know that's how most people see me, and I was always scared because I didn't want to be seen as a freak. I was doing better before... before I got hurt."

"Yes, I know about that," the priest replied, "I have been asked to take that hardship into consideration. We cannot always control every aspect of our lives, and how we deal with things beyond our control speaks to our character. I believe you have faced your hardships well."

The priest returned to his tiny desk and retrieved his tablet, taping and flicking the screen a few times to find whatever he needed to conclude the judgement. "This may seem a strange question Skal, but do you want to be punished today?"

"Of course not," Skal replied.

"If that's the case, you'd be one of the only Penitatas who isn't. The only others escaping punishment are the ones currently in the cages of the Hall of Corrections, but I suspect arrangements will be made for them. You see, I believe you when you say you are a better man now. The simple fact that you have been entrusted to learn the duties of the Office of Corrections speaks volumes to your character. This is a day of judgement, not punishment; only those found wanting need suffer. That said, you would likely be the only Penitatas to escape the paddles, canes and switches prepared for the rest. There is a camaraderie born of shared hardship, and given how you acknowledge you are looked up to, some might argue that being spared what others endure would spoil that image. So I ask again; do you want to be punished?"

Skal turned once more to Sam. He stepped close to her and reached for her paw, which was freely given. "I'll endure whatever she has to."

The priest nodded in agreement, "Then there's the matter of Sam's punishment, and one is most certainly deserved here. You will receive two-dozen swats with a medium paddle, followed by four with a blistering paddle. You may now go now, but I suggest you keep your pendant tucked within your shirt, lest you be told to surrender it."

They left hand in hand, guided by a volunteer towards their fate. Sam was teary-eyed, but she still found the strength to give a fleeting smile to Skal as a way of thanks, whether that was for what he'd said, the gesture of sharing her pain or simply being there he would not know until later. They were led down a long corridor that Skal guessed led to the execution stage, although mercifully that was not its role today. Each of them clutched a plastic wafer in their free hand, coloured blue to indicate where the should go to receive their paddling. They were put at the back of a line as they reached the doorway, the Penitatas ahead of them sniffling and fearful as they were led out one by one at a painfully slow rate. Each step closer to the door made the roar of the crowd easier to hear, and as the pair reached the threshold the sound of howling, sobbing Penitatas was also painfully audible.

"Your turn," the Enforcer at the door said, leading Skal out and pointing him towards a blue flag raised at the far end of the stage. Large curtains had been drawn up around the execution platform to keep the public from looking out, though they did not hide the boiling poles that stood as an ever present reminder of how brutal an end a criminal could meet on the colony of Taviksaad. Upon reaching the blue flag Skal's chip was taken and scanned by a volunteer, a Nightsider woman who nodded to herself upon reading the required discipline. She mouthed 'lucky you' without meeting Skal's eye before selecting the required tools and leading him by the hand down a short flight of steps and through the curtains.

The Common contained a jeering crowd, come to watch justice done. Three rows of pillories formed a box with the stage as the fourth side, each line marked with a coloured flag to indicate the Penitatas group being punished there. Skal's backside would be facing east once placed into the pillory, which turned out to be at the very end of the row. To get there he had to walk past eleven other Penitatas, boys and girls alike who all squirmed in their restraints, crying out in pain, howling in agony or with head down, weeping in shame. Only nine were being actively spanked. The others were left on display. A similar affair was being played out in the other rows, with a great deal of attention being paid to the centre of the southern row where the non-Kyyreni rejuves were currently taking their turn.

Upon reaching his pillory, Skal was ordered to remove his kilt and place it in the clothes bin provided. He didn't struggle as he was locked in place by the ankles, wrists, neck and tail, although the gathered eyes certainly made him want to cover himself; his posture left nothing to the imagination. He braced himself for the bite of the paddle, only to be met with an electric tingling over his rear. Skal yelped in surprise, realising that the woman was shaving his backside bare before the punishment began.

With his rear smooth and pink for all the world to see, the paddle at last began to do its work. A harsh, blunt crack to his left cheek made Skal jolt in his restraints, pushing against the padding at his shoulders. A hot sting radiated out from the strike, causing a painful tingle to run across his entire rump and down his leg. Again the paddle struck, smacking the same spot again and hastily reddening his tender rear. He gave a cry of pain, tensing and wriggling, giving in to tears as the third stroke once again punished his seat, exactly where his weight would go when he sat.

"No-o! Stop p-please!" he wailed, his voice lost amidst similar cries for mercy. It wasn't the pain that caused him to beg, but the shameful tingling in his sheath. Being exposed and degraded in front of everyone stirred his inner urges in ways he could not control, especially now. As the paddle hit a fourth time and the the jeers of the crowd washed over him, Skal burst into tears and bawled openly, feeling the tip of his member twitch against the artificial breeze produced by the Common's ventilation.

The only mercy came from the Nightsider's determination to make him suffer. The deep, throbbing agony in his left cheek was more than enough to keep him from becoming fully aroused, although that was less than comforting given how much it hurt. He did not count the strokes after the sixth, surrendering to his fate and howling at the floor along with the rest of the Penitatas. Any thoughts of Sam or anyone else were beaten out of him by the terrible thudding of the paddle. At last, after what seemed like hours the twelfth stroke fell and Skal was given a brief pause to catch his breath. His left buttock was on fire, his seat turned a shameful shade of crimson with the beginnings of a purple bruise at the worst possible place. He realised too late that the pause marked only the half-way point, and with no warning the paddle began to work on his right cheek as it had the left.

"I'm s'ry!" he blubbed, tears and snot dripping from his muzzle as he pleaded, desperate for some way to put and end to this. "n'more ple-OOOW!" he threw his head back and howled like a wolf, as though the volume or drama of his performance might somehow deaden the pain. At last, by the final stroke, Skal was limp and spent, but there was still one final torment to come.

Starting at the right cheek and working left, the blistering paddle added a new cruelty to his well-worked rear. The thin, hard paddle pinched and bit at the tortured, bruised skin that had already been long punished, causing Skal to thrash and shriek in desperation. The new burning was unbearable, leaving four pulsing spots of fire over his two dozen swats. The blisters themselves would be quite small, but to the well-punished little boy it felt like they were the size of fists. At last it was over; there was nothing for Skal to do but cry and try to drown out the crowds.

As terrible as it was to endure, the Penitatas had no choice but to suffer through it, his limbs twitching in time to the hot pulsing from his backside and crying until his tears ran dry. The pain took a long time to subside, but it gradually reduced to something almost bearable. The woman who spanked him had left, but no-one came to release him. As he composed himself further he glanced toward the pillory next to him, seeing a Daysider girl thrashing as what sounded like a cane was brought down against her helpless rear with considerable force. The girl begged for her master to come save her, but no salvation was coming. Although he couldn't see what was being used against her, he could tell by the sounds from behind and the way she shrieked that the caning had ended and the blistering had begun. She got eight, and Skal's rear clenched in sympathy with every stroke.

At last, after far too long, Skal was released from his pillory and led back towards the stage with pants in hand. He met with six other Penitatas on the stage, Sam included, and every single rejuve was tired and weeping. They were taken back down the long corridor and through the Guild again to a waiting vehicle. Fear gripped the group at this unexpected arrangement, but despite their protests and hesitation they were each loaded aboard and strapped in. Each one of them squirmed in their seats, sobbing anew as they tried to sit in such a way that didn't put weight on their blisters.

The shuttle took them to Vices of all places, stopping outside of the Sinking Light tavern. The owner waved the Penitatas inside, smiling at them as they came. The room beyond was arrayed for a Winter Hall, complete with tables and a buffet of food and drinks. The lights were low and spotlights directed all eyes to a small stage in one corner, currently empty. "You all make yourselves comfortable. We're waiting for a few others before we get started."

All the Penitatas agreed that 'comfortable' meant 'not sitting'. The priest had been right, it turned out; there was camaraderie in suffering. The six Penitatas stood together, two in kilts, one in a dress and three choosing to go bare below the waist rather than suffer pants. They were understandably sheepish, their privates and shaved, well-punished backsides on display for all the world to see. It was Sam who took the first step, unbuttoning her kilt and leaving it under the table. That made her far more exposed than anyone else, as it showed the unexpected combination of female genitalia and male fur colour. Mere seconds later all six Penitatas were half-naked, giggling childishly at their shared, and in part voluntary humiliation.

"I'm kinda surprised you got punished," the boy named Ros said. "I figured you'd be up on a pedestal, maybe even swinging a paddle yourself."

Skal glanced at Sam and grinned at her, "Well, I couldn't let you guys have all the fun." Sam poked a tongue out at him in reply.

By the time the second group arrived the first had been given water to drink and some cheap biscuits to nibble as they waited. The second group was much larger and included the Daysider girl Skal had seen before, plus a Dawnsider boy in Lifter Guild colours. Both came straight to their table and greeted Ros, clearly friends, while the other three Pennys at the table drifted away to meet friends of their own or just to make room. It was surprising how quickly social circles formed, given how difficult it was for Penitatas to interact most of the time.

With the fresh influx and the spreading acceptance that the day was going to be mostly pantless, it seemed the hostess was ready to begin. She stepped up to the stage with a familiar priest in tow, his distinctive cybernetic eyes scanning the crowd. A third group arrived, the largest yet, and Skal realised many of them were not Penitatas at all; some were too old and none of them were miserable.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, rejuves of all ages and classes, welcome to our Winter Hall!" the priest announced, and a dutiful cheer went up in reply. "This is the first of many Winter Halls that is to be attended by rejuves, and so I would like to begin by addressing the Penitatas present. If anyone is unsure who they are, look for the bare backsides."

A ripple of laughter followed as some of the Penitatas suddenly became shy enough to try and dress themselves, or at least conceal their genitals. The priest quickly took command of the room again, "My Penitatas friends, you are welcome here! You have been judged, and I suspect found wanting, but that is now the past. Now, look to your futures! To show you are welcome we have decided to take inspiration from the Humans who brought the rejuvenation technology to us. Come forward all of you to receive your treat of cookies and milk."

He gestured to the buffet table where trays were being brought out. Each Penitatas received a plate of two hard, and rather uninspiring biscuits. The milk was much better received as it was both spiced and laced with alcohol. Having received their 'gifts' the priest declared, "now, my friends, let me see you all with a drink in hand! Hurry now, as we're going to do this a little out of order. Normally, this toast would wait until midnight, but since many of you are small and a few of you already look ready for a nap, we're going to break with tradition. Everyone, raise your drinks with me... to the year that has gone and the dead gone with it. To all our loved and lost. Drink, and remember them."

Silence fell, all merriment washed away by the short, simple phrase. The ring around Skal's neck felt suddenly heavy, so much so he had to hold it with his palm in case it tugged him over. They all raised their drinks as instructed. Someone even sobbed a little. Then they drank deeply, and the life returned.

"Now let there be music!" the priest commanded as a trio of musicians in their mid to late teens took the stage. The rejuves cheered as they came, and the party began with fresh vigour.

"Help yourselves to food and drink, but you Penitatas might want to stay sober!" the hostess warned before vanishing quickly into the back, having triggered the rush for food. To Skal's surprise, his table did not have to join the brawl. Food came to them care of two large trays carried by Hafn and a ten-year-old Nightsider.

"Hafn!" Ros cried, leaping on the boy as soon as the tray was set and almost knocking over the second. "You're here? How are you here? I thought we'd never see you again!"

"Get off you faggot!" Hafn laughed as he pushed Ros away, giving him a playful slap to buy himself time and space to answer the questions. His eye was drawn straight away to Skal. "I'm here because of him. I don't think I thanked you back in Black Pit, so I'll do it now. I owe you, Skal. I owe you more than I can..." Hafn stopped to wipe tears from his eyes.

"It's all good," Skal answered with a smile, "Did you miss the judgement?"

Hafn chuckled, "the Enforcers figured that a few weeks in cells and cages was judgement enough. I didn't actually get freed again until this morning. Hey Lyy! Hey Tosjig! I missed you guys so much!"

The two friends greeted him in return, raising their glasses. The Nightsider, who Hafn called 'Grandpa' because he was 45, bid the group farewell and elbowed his way towards the food with a vow to eat his body weight in cakes. The remaining circle of Penitatas ate hot pies, snacked on pastry and drank as much alcohol as they were brave enough to drink. They listened as the stories began, enraptured by the oft-heard tales of Urokon's legendary heroes. There was a telling of Taviksaad's founding, and other more personal tales besides. Hafn even had a turn, doing his best to recount his ordeal in Black Pit and painting Skal to be a larger-than-life hero who practically kicked down the gates to save him.

The six compared their punishments, the boys especially boasting about how tough they were to endure dozens of cane strokes and comparing the blisters earned. Sam and Skal were most certainly lucky, with every other bottom present sporting eight angry lumps. Lips loosened by the spirits in their milk, Skal was coaxed into admitting he liked being humiliated and had become a little turned on at being displayed to the crowd, to which Ros playfully lamented not being able to see their hero's throbbing length. Another drink later and Ros made a shy offer. "Really, after what you did for Hafn... if you ever wanted me to..." the boy glanced downward and licked his lips, followed by a nod towards the staff door nearby.

Much to the giggling amusement of the others, and with Sam in tow, it wasn't long before Skal was being led away from the celebration and up the winding stairs to Ros' bedroom. It was a tiny room, little bigger than Skal's own with the only meaningful furniture being the bed. Half-hard already, Ros removed the remainder of his clothes and knelt on the bed, twitching with excitement as he beckoned Skal to come forward. Shy, but more than willing to play along just for the look on his girlfriend's face, Skal allowed Ros to open his shirt and gain better access to his sheath.

The boy's tongue teased over Skal's sheath, dancing across the sensitive flesh and teasing his tip. Skal shuddered, gasping at the perverted pleasure of having another male do such a thing to him. He looked over at Sam who sat on the bed beside Ros, legs splayed open as he fingers played over her slit. She spread herself, putting on a show to help her boyfriend get in the mood for something he was not altogether comfortable with, but doing for the sake of her fantasy.

With a moan, Skal felt his length slide free into Ros' eager, welcoming mouth. The submissive Penny boy worked carefully, using his tongue to guide the warm boyhood up against the roof of his muzzle and keeping the tender flesh clear of his teeth. His eager, hungry purring sent shivers along Skal's member, causing the boy yet more delights. He wasn't going to deny it felt good, and the happy, eager blush on Sam's face made it all the better.

His knot popped out and began to swell. Ros took Skal's entire length into his maw, suckling and teasing, using his years of experience to overwhelm the boy with pleasure. Any thought or concern about his own sexuality was forgotten as Ros sent waves of pleasure flooding through his playmate, drawing out gasps and moans with every bob of the head. Ros' hands were not idle either, stroking Skal's sac or gently squeezing his knot. This careful, tender labouring quickly drive Skal over the edge. With a long moan Skal gripped Ros' had and let himself go, panting in time with his cock's violent twitches as he shot his load into the boy's throat. His legs trembled so much he feared he would fall, especially as Ros sucked and licked through the entire orgasm in an act of blissful torture. At last they broke apart, cock and mouth linked by a long string of saliva that Ros happily lapped up. The boy's own member was rock hard and leaking precum, while the performance had clearly left Sam in the mood for more by smell alone.

"How do you want me to take care of that?" Skal asked Sam with a point to Ros' hard-on.

The girl bit her lower lip as she blushed. "Would you... play the girl?"

Without a word, Skal crawled onto the bed on all fours, presenting his rear for Ros to admire. The boy chuckled, "that's probably going to hurt with all those bruises, but thanks for the offer. I can take care of myself."

A little shy, but inwardly grateful, Skal took an old shirt offered to him and used it to wipe himself clean before fastening his clothes back into place. Sam and Skal slipped back to the party hand in hand, both blushing and laughing at their mischief. "I can't believe you did that for me," she said at a whisper.

"You know I'd do anything for you," he replied, meaning every word.

They paused just before the door back to the main event. Sam took Skal's hands in her own and looked fondly into his eyes. "You called me your girlfriend earlier. You have no idea what that means to me."

She leaned in to kiss him, a short but heartfelt gesture before locking him tightly in a hug and resting her chin on his shoulder. It was the greatest moment of Skal's life to date, feeling her heart beat against his own. The were still there when Ros reappeared, looking pleased with himself and wryly amused by their loitering in the staff area. Together, all three went back to toasting the year to come. One this was for certain; their little circle had plenty of stories to tell for the rest of the night.