Rejuve's Revelry - Ozyel

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#8 of The Icaran Chronicles


Ever since her judgement, Ozyel had to get up much earlier in the morning. Her new mother, Ihrel, was a Drakonian with leathery brown scales and a no-nonsense attitude toward her Penitatas charges. Ozyel had to stay in bed until she arrived, and when woken up she was stripped down, with only a brief flinch at her panties dropping, and walked to the bathroom to be tested. It didn't require anything more than urinating in a cup and letting the machine do its thing, but it was still humiliating for the girl.

And then, straight after, it was time for a spanking. The Kyyreni girl had learned very quickly how good she'd had it under Maggie; Ihrel was a hard mother, and had no tolerance for kicking and squirming. "You know the drill," the Drakonian said as she settled back on her tail. Ozyel, already sniffing and whimpering, was held firmly between her new mother's thighs for a thorough tail-lashing. There was a terrible art to tongue-lashing, and Ihrel had mastered it. Just the very tip of her tongue caught Ozyel's exposed backside, making a sharp snapping sound and causing the girl to yelp in pain. The second quick lash drew a longer cry from the girl, who gripped the Drakonian's leg and tried hard not to dig her claws in. The third sharp snap set drew a sob from her, catching her right at the base of her tail. Time and again the dragon's tongue snapped over her defenseless backside, each blow leaving a small, triangular mark beneath her fur. Worse still, the Drakonian saliva seeped into her skin and fur, causing an uncomfortable itch that quickly grew into a hot, relentless burning. "OW! Mo-ow! M-mom pl-aaah! Sto-owowowaap!!" Ozyel wailed, despite knowing full well it wouldn't help her. Twenty tongue lashes greeted her every morning since coming to this house. Today, Ozyel had counted twenty, yet a twenty-first tongue lash struck her left cheek. The shock of it made her yelp and jump, which prompted Ihrel to make a sharp, disapproving grunt before lashing her a twenty-second time. Wailing like a newborn, Ozyel was forced to endure an extra six tongue lashes before the torment finally relented. Broken and miserable, Ihrel held her daughters hands firmly, keeping her legs trapped between her thighs, so the saliva could do its work. She turned a timid gaze toward her mother and whimpered, "w-why?" "Because your behaviour is in dire need of correcting," Ihrel answered firmly, keeping her voice calm and matter-of-fact. "You know very well I will not tolerate you carrying on during your punishments. You have been a Penitatas for long enough to know how to behave!" "I'm sor-ry mom!" Ozyel answered. "I p-promise I'll try-y harder!" "I know you will," Ihrel replied, more kindly than before. She gave the girl's hands a comforting squeeze, but still all the girl could do was lower her head and cry as her punished backside continued to burn. After what felt like hours of waiting, Ihrel relented and led her back to the bathroom. A quick shower followed, with a lot of attention paid to her bottom to mercifully wash away every last trace of her mother's saliva. By seven in the morning, Ozyel was clean, dressed and sat at the breakfast table. While waiting for her meal - thin pancakes covered in honey and klandrhel nuts - Ozyel ran a finger over the black Securi-Band on her left wrist, and sulked over having to wear it. She was already tired and fed up, with a tight knot in her chest that simply would not go away. "Come on, eat up!" Ihrel scolded as the plate was put in front of her Kyyreni daughter. It was perhaps unnecessary, as they weren't exactly running late, but she felt it wouldn't hurt to keep the girl from sulking over her meal. "Can-" Ozyel halted her question, biting her lip and focusing instead on her food. It wasn't that she didn't like it, far from it; her anxiety simply killed her appetite. Ihrel looked up from her own food. "What is it?" "Can we talk for a minute?" Ozyel asked her food. "What do you want to talk about?" Ozyel took another slow mouthful of food. She found it difficult to even look up at her new mother, a mother who after over a month of living together still felt distant and unwelcoming. "Ozyel?" "I..." she finally found the strength to look up. Her lower lip trembled as she spoke, "I want my old mom back." A statement like that may have landed a Penitatas in trouble, given the disrespect it implied, but Ihrel saw the pain in the young girl's face and knew not to make snap judgments. "Why is that?" she asked. "Because I miss her," Ozyel replied. "I wish... I wish I could make things right again. I just want everything to go back the way they were before... before I messed up." "It's good that you feel remorse for your actions," the Drakonian said as her daughter wiped fresh tears away. "Can I see her sometime?" "We'll see. Now, hurry and finish your breakfast. I don't want you to be spanked for being late for school!" And so, eating quickly, Ozyel was soon on her way to school. Despite her talk, and the assurances of her mother, the knot in her chest would not go away, and she silently wished that she could just go home and crawl back into bed.

The dining hall of the school was a surprisingly cheery place. Pastel coloured, circular tables allowed the Rejuves to sit in their own social circles and chat while eating, and amidst the posters reminding students of cafeteria rules, and general Penitatas behaviour, were encouraging messages and bright, inspirational landscape photographs. For eight year old Callum, the morning had gone well. So well, in fact, that he felt confident enough to make immature jokes about the sausages he and his friends were eating. Beside him, clearly sharing his humour, a six year old girl beside him made inappropriate noises while nibbling on her phallic food, while an older girl just enjoyed the show. "Serves you right for trying to steal from your parents!" a Kyyreni boy said loudly as he reached the table. He was five years old, freshly Rejuved, and sat down without hesitation. The rest of the table gave him confused looks. "Who the heck are you?" Callum asked, irritated at the intrusion. Miga, the group's token Drakonian stuck out his tongue at the new boy. Then he snapped it back in sharply as a look of realisation formed on his snout. "Fanna?" "I was. I go by Finnr now." "Wait, what?" Callum stared, confused at his friend's unexpected new form. "Who's the new boy?" Ozyel asked, reaching her friends and sitting down. Callum answered, "Fanna. Seems she's had a sex change! But how? When? Why?" Finnr answered, "I asked, Tuesday, and I'm kind of hurt you even have to ask." Miga rolled his eyes. "Sheesh, between you and Jackie we're becoming a real gender-confused group." "I'm not gender-confused," Jackie replied. "I just happen to like being a girl." "You just like being a girl because you can flash your snatch in exchange for favours!" Callum laughed. "Can we not talk about stuff like that!?" Ozyel shrieked, silencing the entire table and catching the attention of those sat nearby. The awkward silence was broken by the arrival of another Rejuve, a girl of around ten years old who came up behind Willow and said, "Hi! Is it okay if I sit here?" After a brief check with her peers, Willow shuffled over to make room for the new arrival. "Thanks!" the girl said cheerily. She was hazel eyed, with dark blond hair tied up in pigtails, lightly freckled cheeks and a gap in her front teeth that promised braces in her future. "I saw you guys fooling around while I was in the queue and thought 'that's a fun table to sit at!' I hope I've not killed the mood..." "That was me," Callum confessed. Introductions were made; each Penny listed their name and sentence with varying amounts of enthusiasm. The new girl turned out to be named Abby, and was the odd one out as she wasn't a Penitatas at all. "I decided I wanted to be a Penitatas Parent, but I was pushing eighty so I figured I could rejuve and use my childhood as a way to get a little experience on the ground." "You really think that's smart?" Miga asked. "There's plenty of kids who'd make your life hell if they found out what you plan to be." "I think it's a good idea," Ozyel said, slightly distant as she pulped her carrots into her mashed potatoes with a fork. "This'd be a lot easier to bear if the paddle swingers knew the hell they put us through." Jackie seemed about to reply, but changed her mind. Abby became aware of the eyes on her. She held up a hand and vowed, "I'm not here to snitch. Really, I want to be treated like any other kid." That seemed enough for Jackie. "New mom still being a... a bitch?" After a similar pause, Ozyel nodded. "She gave me six extra tongue lashes because she thinks I squirm too much. And she always waits until it dries in! The damn grownups always say we should be sorry about what we've done wrong, but when I say I'm sorry she doesn't believe me!" "You'd think it'd be easier for us with an ex-Penny as king!" Finnr said while Ozyel rubbed her reddening eyes. Willow snorted. "That's an urban myth." "It's true, he was a Penny. I went to school with him in my first cycle." "Sure you did, Jackie," Miga replied, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Ask Ban! He went to the same school!" "Maybe I will," the Drakonian boy replied, in a tone of voice that made it clear he wouldn't. They finished their meal with more idle chatter, and despite their initial skepticism the Pennys found themselves warming to Abby. As they cleared away their trays and went out into the playground, the Voluntaras said to Ozyel, "Listen, I don't mean to pry, but you're the girl from the news, right?" "Yeah, I am." "Well, if there's anything I can do, let me know. Okay?" "You can mind your own business," Ozyel shot back. The two girls met eyes, and Abby saw regret in the Kyyreni girl's eyes at the harsh tone she'd used. But the moment passed, and Ozyel hurried away to join her friends outside.

The children were given ninety minutes to play and exercise, but for one unhappy Kyyreni girl, recess ended early. Ears flat, head lowered and tail tucked firmly against her much-abused, coffee-brown backside, Ozyel dragged one foot in front of the other until she reached the nurse's office. It was a well-equipped facility, spacious and well-decorated to hide the usual drab atmosphere all medical facilities gravitate towards. A blue curtain had been pulled around the bed farthest from the door. The school's Human nurse, a Jalaxian counselor with patchy black-and-white fur, and a second Human in a medical uniform were waiting for her. "Hello, Ozyel," the strange woman said. "I'm here on behalf of the Corrections Council. Please step this way." Counselor Xan waited quietly until Ozyel reappeared, adjusting her clothes and looking even more miserable than when she'd come in. "I'd like you to come to my office, if you don't mind? I thought you might like to talk to someone." "I don't," Ozyel insisted. "I'm fine, really." Xan shook her head. "I don't believe that. Besides, I am required to perform a review for the Council. Two birds, one stone. Come along. I'll pass on to your teacher you will be coming back late." Together, Xan and Ozyel walked out into the corridors and made the short trip to Xan's office. It was hidden behind blurred, translucent plastic, with wall-mounted displays full of leaflets about bullying, drugs and all the other problems and temptations that a Penitatas might face. There were soft, armless chairs outside for people who had to wait to be seen. Ozyel didn't. The office was mercifully devoid of motivational posters, though it was home to a large collection of fragrant plants. There was a large multi-coloured rug in the centre of the room, with comfortable chairs facing one another across it. A collection of basic toys, bordering on preschool, were stacked neatly on a dwarf table. A gaggle of monitors had taken roost on a desk, turned so that nobody but the occupant of the desk's swivel chair could see them. Xan took one of the comfy chairs. Ozyel took the other. "I just want to remind you everything said here is confidential. You can say anything you need to say." The Jalaxian's tone was soft and sympathetic. Motherly, even. Ozyel stared at the rug. It was made up of interlocking squares and octagons. The octagons alternated between red and blue on the odd columns, and green and purple on the even columns. The squares were always yellow. "For my report, I would like your thoughts on a few matters. Again, you can be as honest as you like. I want your feelings, your true feelings. There aren't any right answers. The more honestly you answer, the more we can help you. Do you understand?" The rug was trimmed with a rope-weave effect. Two bands, both pale yellow, separated by a solid band of deep blue fabric. Another deep blue rectangle edged the whole thing. The bands were about two inches thick each. One corner was turned up a little, folded up just enough to hint at a black plastic underside. "Ozyel?" "What do you want to know?" She replied. "I'd like to know how you feel about your current situation. Your new parents, and the new discipline regimen the Council gave you." Ozyel bit her upper lip. A little flake of skin was peeling away, and she tried to work it off with her teeth. "I don't want to push you, but I think talking will help a lot. Just try to put your feelings into words." "I want my mom." The confession came reluctantly, like the words were wrapped in barbed wire and would cut her insides open if pulled free too fast. "You mean your previous mother? Maggie?" Ozyel nodded urgently. The knot in her chest was pressing on her heart now, pressing so hard it hurt. "Everyone acts like I did what I did to hurt her, or because she didn't do her job. But that's not true! I... I... I'd never have done what I did if I knew what would happen to my mom!" The final confession wrenched something loose in her chest and she blubbed out her anxiety and grief. Xan offered her a box of tissues when the initial surge had faded, which Ozyel accepted gratefully. "My new mom hates me," the girl continued after blowing her nose. "She doesn't care how I feel. Nobody does." "Do you feel that way because of the punishments she is required to give you?" For the first time, Ozyel met the Jalaxian's gaze. "She punishes me way more than she has to." She sniffled and wiped her nose again. "And I wish she wouldn't use her tongue on me. I'd rather be switched!" The confessions came one by one, drawn out in no clear sequence as Ozyel's thoughts bounced from one concern to the next. At least, for her, letting the words escape brought momentary relief. The fatigue, the fear of punishment, even the gnawing need for her caffeine fix had all temporarily subsided. It came back when her mother appeared unexpectedly to bring her home an hour early, but rather than the uncomfortable three-way meeting she'd expected, Ozyel was asked to sit outside for a short time before Ihrel appeared once more to take her home. "I found out you had a surprise inspection today. I thought it would be best to take you out of school. I can't imagine that was easy for you." Ozyel tried hard to find an excuse not to reply. Opening up to a relatively unknown Counselor had been one thing, but confessing to a giant lizard who walked around nude all day was another matter entirely. "Aside from that, is there anything you need to talk to me about?" Once again, Ozyel was silent. Ihrel shook her head sadly, but let the matter rest until they were home.

To her credit, Ozyel did little to stall her after-school spankings. Ihrel wondered if that was because they were only delivered with a light paddle, making them less painful and easier to endure than her morning discipline. The Kyyreni girl required no instruction to go straight to her room, where she undressed, put her clothes in the laundry hamper, put her shoes away, and then leaned over her bed with her tail raised, trying to put a brave face on her impending punishment. "Stand up, please." The instruction was unexpected, but the girl obeyed. She stood looking at her mother's hands, noting the absence of a paddle, hairbrush or any other disciplinary tool. The sight made her whimper, as it could only mean a second tongue lashing. "Ozyel, when did your Season start?" The girl blushed lightly under her fur. "Did the doctor tell you?" "Yes, but I suspected since yesterday." The girl glanced at the laundry bin as though expecting to see something there that would have raised suspicion. "I could taste the change in your scent." Ozyel's paws clasped around her muzzle. She span around sharply, her legs clamping together and tail falling flat across her backside. Through the corner of her eye she saw Ihrel's reflection in the wardrobe's mirror. The drake had the decency to look uncomfortable on her daughter's behalf. "Ozyel, this is something we need to discuss. It's not something you are going to get in trouble for, but we both know ignoring it won't make things easy for you. And frankly, the idea of having to discipline you under these conditions isn't something I'm comfortable with either. "I bet," the girl answered quietly. "You'd be one missed lick away from a Black Circle." To Ozyel's surprise, Ihrel chuckled. "Inappropriate as it is for you to talk to me like that, I'm actually glad you're making jokes. Just remember to be respectful, yes?" Sheepishly, the Kyyreni girl nodded and turned back to face her mother, who had settled onto her tail in the familiar disciplinary stance. "The doctor suggested medication to suppress your hormones, but I told her you would not respond well to drugs. So, we need to consider the 'natural' alternatives. Is this something you can work out of your system on your own?" "If... it'd be easier if I had... toys. I can't reach... where I need to reach." The girl's gaze never rose above her mother's knee. "And you're sure of that?" Under her brown fur, Ozyel's skin was now flushed beetroot red. Mouse like, she squeaked, "I tried last night." Her hands moved to shield her groin from sight. "I'm sorry this makes you uncomfortable. I really am. I can arrange to have a 'helper kit' dropped off here tomorrow. It's designed for young women in your situation. Until then, you will just have to carry on as best you can." "Can we please stop talking about this now?" the girl whimpered, her shame now making standing upright near impossible. Ihrel nodded slowly. "Yes, of course. I won't be spanking you, but you are still supposed to be disciplined. Go downstairs and stand in the corner of the dining room. Nose to the wall, hands on your head. You can stay there until I say otherwise."

Corner time. It had been some time since Ozyel had been forced to endure this particular punishment. It was an advantage of her good behaviour. Or rather, of keeping her misdeeds a secret. The forgotten misery of being made to stare at blank wallpaper, muzzle pressed right into the corner for who-knows how long, came flooding back all too quickly. This time, the addition of having her hands resting on her head made it all the more unpleasant. It wasn't a natural posture to maintain, and Ozyel knew all too well that even simple things could become agonising if kept up too long. Minutes ticked by in secret. Ihrel, master of punishment, had chosen to make her punishment corner something of a dead zone. There were no holo shows or podcasts playing in the background; no ticking clocks or rhythmic thumps of washing machines. She kept the house quiet, leaving only the irregular, muted sounds of the world outside to break the monotony. And they broke it rarely, ensuring Ozyel had plenty of time to reflect, to sulk, and to grow aware of her body. Her arms were tiring quickly, but without anything else to occupy her, the unwelcome itch between her thighs slowly, irrepressibly grew. She closed her eyes and willed the feeling to go away, but it remained, a gentle itch that she could not scratch. Even if she could, it wouldn't go away. As she clenched and rubbed her thighs together as much as she dared, Ozyel found herself jealous of her Human friends, with their G-spot on the clitoris, not tucked right up below the womb. To be able to run her hands down her body, nails gently pressing against her neck, scoring lines to her four developing breasts; to tease those nubs of flesh, just for a moment, just enough to light a fire below; to caress her own stomach as the heat swelled within her, to touch her cleft of Venus as her hot, swollen labia parted in anticipation; to press a finger against that little nub of flesh and draw slow, teasing circles, growing faster and firmer with each rotation, knowing that would be enough to push her over the edge into sweet, blissful climax... Ihrel's footsteps snapped the girl from her lustful trance. Her eyes snapped open, and in a brief, befuddled moment realised she'd been doing far more than just dreaming about masturbation. Her hands shot back to her head, the guilty dampness quietly seeping from her fingertips into her head fur. Ihrel passed without comment, and Ozyel tried to focus on something, anything but her urges. The wall was all she had. The beige wall. Beige like a mushroom, the wild ones that grew in the shade of an oak tree near where she lived before earning her Big P. Beige like old paper. Beige like the tips of Finnr's ears, or Finnr's fingers, or toes. Finnr... he was kind of cute. When he grew up, he was going to be handsome. Handsome, and blessed with a long, hard, throbbing- "Stop it!" Ozyel cursed herself, realising she'd spoken aloud. Her heart stopped beating, and her ears became painfully aware of every last, microscopic sound. Yet for all her awareness, all her focus, she heard nothing to suggest an angry parent was about to bear down on her, and so she thanked the Gods for that small mercy, and began to breathe again.

It wasn't clear how long she'd had to squirm in the corner, but in time her lust gave way to the tired ache of her arms. Eventually, Ihrel came to check on the girl and found her whining softly into the wall, her hips and tail twitching in an awkward, but rhythmic pattern. "Ozyel, you can come out of the corner now," she said gently, her tongue telling her of little queues that her nose was not sensitive enough to spot. Sheepishly, the Penny girl asked to go to her room, and Ihrel had no desire to stop her. Ozyel's relief was palpable, and she all but fled to the stairs and up to her bedroom. She climbed onto the bed and hid herself from the world beneath her duvet, breathing deeply and trying to lull herself into a half-sleep. Her imagination conjured images for her pleasure; images of Finnr, whose gender changed from moment to moment. They were together in the classroom, exchanging lustful glances. Then they were in the girl's toilets off the main hall, and Finnr was her ten year old female self again, naked and urging Ozyel on. The fantasies tumbled into one another in a confused, illegible mess. They kissed and groped and fucked together. Finnr took Ozyel from behind, holding her tail aside and pounding her firmly over a park bench. The next moment, Ozyel squatted over him in her own room, forcing him to eat her out. They moved together, passing through dozens of positions and dozens of places, the details blurring into a warm, formless cloud of erotic lust. Curled up in her bed, Ozyel's hands teased and stimulated, seeking to coax out an orgasm that would give her relief. Sweat poured from her body; her limbs became tangled in the sheets; her mind detached from her body and became lost in wild, desperate dreams of sexual frustration. Slowly, Ozyel felt that frustration build within her, forming a solid mass below her stomach that longed to be released. As she writhed and panted and toyed with herself, teasing her clit and lower lips, probing her tight inner passage with her fingers, she felt the pressure grow. She tried to follow its pulsing rhythm, to touch herself in time to its movements, to steer her lucid dreams to the most intense of places. There was a moment of climax, an instant where the pressure became painfully intense, and then dissipated. She fell limp, crying softly into her pillow and hating herself for not being able to control her own desires. The shame passed, and with it the burning need for sex. It did not fade entirely, but her false-orgasm was enough to at least tide her over for a while. Nuzzling the pillow and squirming about to drag and kick her bedding into a more comfortable arrangement, Ozyel let herself drift into a brief, but welcome nap.

Waking without ever truly remember dozing off, Ozyel slipped from her bed and stretched before scrounging some underwear to make herself decent. Hunger and thirst compelled her to go back downstairs, and with every step her mind raced, full of confused emotions and half-finished thoughts. Ihrel was expecting her. The dining table was set for two, and from the kitchen came the gentle clink of a pan lid rising and falling as steam escaped. The girl's nose flared, taking in the smell of vegetables and honey-glazed meat. The sudden hunger pain it brought on made her hurry to her place, but the sound of her name being called stopped her short. "You're having a bath before dinner," Ihrel said. Even if she agreed, the statement shamed Ozyel far more than any amount of nude corner time. "You're sweating like you just ran a marathon. Come on." The bath itself was unusual. Even when she wasn't allowed to wash herself, Ihrel preferred the shower. Maggie had been the same; the bath was a tool of discipline, meant to humiliate a young Penny, or punish an older one by bathing in cold water. She put a brave face over that concern, telling herself that she didn't mind being cold. To her relief, Ihrel reached straight for the hot tap, filling the porcelain oval to a depth that would cover her daughter's waist. The Kyyreni girl climbed into the steaming water, and failed to suppress a sigh as she sat down and slid forward, submerging herself up to her neck while her mother fetched a pair of brushes. The bath soap was left within reach, so Ozyel began scrubbing before her mother returned to do it for her. "Are you feeling better?" Ozyel nodded in response to her mother's question. "You talked about a lot of things at school. I'm told that some of them were things we should talk about together." Ozyel pretended to be focused on grinding soap into her armpits. Her eyes flickered back and forth between her crotch and her mother. "Can I have a moment?" Ihrel looked away, but continued speaking. "I don't want to force you to talk about things if you don't want to. I understand there are some things you have to confront on your own terms. But some things can't be left alone. That's why I made you discuss your Season. There are other things I'd like to bring up as well." "I know," Ozyel confessed. The soap was still in her hand, having not touched her body since she asked for privacy. "Did you 'suspect' about this too?" Ihrel turned back to her daughter. She saw the anxious look on the girl's face, the inner anxieties that made her seem more like a Penny of six or seven than of twelve. She took the soap without protest. "Yes." "It must seem stupid, a girl my age being afraid to take her panties down." "You were taken advantage of, betrayed by a Penitatas Parent; a man sworn to protect and nurture. If that happened to me... honestly, I don't think I would be coping as well as you are." She worked the soap into Ozyel's back as she spoke, watching the girl's body language for signs of comfort, or discomfort, at the touch. "So let's just cut to it. What do you need from me?" Ozyel gave a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "No spankings for the rest of my cycle, three bars of chocolate a day, and a pony named Sparkles." Irhel let the joke pass without comment. Her daughter shifted onto her knees and raised her tail so the Drakonian could work the soap into it. Without the smile, but with far more honesty, Ozyel tried again. "I don't want much. Maybe sometimes, if I'm feeling vulnerable, could I keep my panties on? That's all I want." "That won't be a problem," Ihrel assured her. The soap was handed back, and this time Ozyel scrubbed where she needed to be scrubbed. A quick rinse and brush made her ready for the dinner table, and she was dressed in fresh, clean clothes for her meal. "I'm keeping you off school tomorrow, but after dinner I still want you back up to your room and doing your homework. I'll be checking, and if it's not done by bedtime you'll be going to bed with ruler'd knuckles as well as a swatted backside!" "Yes ma'am!" Ozyel squeaked. Despite the threat, she found herself smiling; after a day of embarrassing confessions and cringe-worthy moments, it felt nice to just be a normal Penny again.

That night, despite knowing she didn't have to, she bared her backside for her spanking like a Penny was meant to, and after was put to bed with nano-lotion to quickly take away her discomfort. She dreamed of perverted fantasies she'd never dare speak of to anyone, and of the sweet, blissful relief that tomorrow promised her.