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Crisp, drenched from head to toe, stood silently and stared at the hotel's caretaker as he penciled the young wolf's name into the ledger. The wolf's clothes dripped, his ears dripped, and even his nose dripped as the stout innkeeper hummed obliviously to himself. Tugging on the clingy fabric of his red and white jacket Crisp felt disturbingly out of place in his soaking attire. The wolf did his best to ignore the growing puddle beneath his sneakers. The shoes squelched as he shifted his weight from one to the other and each time they did the boy couldn't help but feel as though they were as loud as cracks of thunder. His shorts were in no better shape, the thin fabric sticking to the black fur of his legs, and the blue briefs beneath them were almost uncomfortably tight with the weight of the water soaking into the cotton; his body tingled and tickled with the sensation of the dampness as it began to ever so slowly dry into his fur.

"Does it always rain this much?" Crisp asked at last, his muzzle turned down in a frown as he tore his gaze away from the red-haired man before him to look over his surroundings. He pulled his goggles from his forehead to rub at the glass lenses absently as he looked around.

"If we didn't have the rain, we wouldn't 'ave the grass, an' if we don't 'ave the grass, we ain't the Emerald Isle." The man said, not looking up until he'd finished writing the wolf's name and information down with his feathered quill. "You came to see the Emerald Isle, din't ya, lad? Not the Slightly Green fields of Ireland."

The castle foyer was scented by the rain that hammered the old stone walls of the keep. The plush rug, thick tapestries and candle-studded candelabras did little to keep the chill out, but for Crisp it was why he had come all this way; the atmosphere was like nothing he'd seen back home, and if he was going to travel, he was going to take in the culture.

"I suppose that makes sense, just wish it had waited until I'd gotten here."

"Well y'er 'ere now, an' none the worse for wear. Now, where are y'er bags, lad?" The man moved from behind the counter and Crisp had to stop himself from staring. The innkeeper was shorter than the wolf had first thought, the man hopping down from the stool that had given him the illusion of height. He stood no taller than three and a half feet, and several inches of that were the green shoes he wore. The man caught the stare quickly, but simply smiled.

"My mother was even shorter, she was constantly being mistaken f'er a child!" His hand came up promptly, thrust towards Crisp in a manner so friendly that the wolf couldn't keep himself from clasping and shaking it. "Liam O'Brennan, proprietor of this hotel, caretaker of its rooms, and y'er host... so ye best not stare too 'ard, m'boy!" Crisp lowered his gaze immediately, a blush creeping into his cheeks as he began to stammer out an apology. Smile not faltering, Liam simply repeated Now, where are y'er bags?"

"They're a few hours behind, I'm afraid."

"And y'er soaked! That won't do! No guest of ol' Liam is gonna shiver away the night. Come on, you can take some out of the gift shop. I'm afraid they ain't fancy, but they'll be a sight warmer than what y'er wearin' now."

The man moved immediately for a small, well-lit niche in the wall. A sign declared the gift-shop was down the hall and as Crisp stepped in he was surprised by the modern wood paneling and brightly lit fluorescent lights which illuminated the cramped store. Mugs, cards, posters and even a small model replica of the castle he now stood in.

"Over here, boy. We got some shorts, shirts and briefs ya can 'ave." Liam called out from the corner of the shop. As Crisp moved towards it he couldn't help but stare at the odd assortment of clothing which hung on the wall. "Here ya go." The man pulled several pieces of the tourist apparel from their hangings and handed them to the wolf.

"Oh. Um. Thanks" the wolf replied a little sheepishly. It wasn't the 'kiss me I'm Irish' t-shirt that caught his attention, nor the white shorts dotted with stitched shamrocks; it was the briefs that had the poor boy squirming in the puddles that had formed within his shoes. They were green cotton, the stitching white and offering a nice contrast to the vivid emerald colour that permeated the somewhat revealing underwear. On the rear of the briefs the phrase, 'Kiss me Blarney Stones' had been stitched for the amusement- no doubt- of whoever wore them. Having them handed to him by the friendly, though odd, little innkeeper had a hint of embarrassment creeping up the wolf's spine, however. Before they left, however, Liam grabbed a pair of socks from the wall. "These are better suited for children, but ya can't be getting' picky now, can ya?" The man handed them to Crisp and the wolf was taken aback by the somewhat unorthodox socks. Green and white alternating stripes ran horizontally up the length of them, the smooth fabric reaching higher than a normal pair of socks would.

"They're a little high, Mr. O'Brennan--" the wolf began.

"Oh, don't you worry, lad. Nobody'll see ya in them and they'll keep ya nice and warm up to y'er knees. Now, I'll show you y'er room so you can get changed out of those wet things. Leave 'em by the door and I'll come by to launder them for ya once I've seen to y'er supper." Liam said quickly as he turned to walk back out of the shop.

"Oh. Th-Thanks Mr. O'Brennan, surely you don't do that for every guest though, a place this big you'd be up all night doing laundry!" Crisp stammered, caught off guard by the man's generosity; he knew the Irish were supposed to be friendly, at least when sober, but this was more than even he had expected.

"Don't let a single worry grey that hair o' y'ers, lad. Y'er the only one staying with us tonight. You'll 'ave the place all to y'erself."

The wolf had no reason to doubt the man's word at the time. The hallways were silent, though surprisingly clean. Large oaken doors were interspersed along the artificially orange lit walls; real torches were far too dangerous but Crisp couldn't help but appreciate the attempt to simulate them with well-placed wall-sconce fitted lights. Still, the air seemed stale and even the sound of the rain outside couldn't penetrate the thick walls this deeply; silence seemed to choke the very life from the hallways, only the soft click of Liam's shoes on the bare stone floor broke it.

"This is it!" The man declared suddenly. He opened the door and stepped back to let the wolf into the room first. The carpeting was back, as were the candelabras; a pair of them, smaller than the ones in the lobby but similar in design, kept the room surprisingly well lit. A well varnished round table sat in the middle of the floor and near the wall, just below a large double paned window, sat the bed. "I'll have supper brought up to ya shortly, m'boy. Until then, enjoy y'er stay." Crisp nodded, but Liam didn't leave right away. "And lad? There're stories about this castle... they say spirits haunt the halls in the wee hours of twilight, and while I won't say they're true, I will say that old castles have a way of getting to people's imaginations; I do my best to keep it up, but these places will make all the strange noises they want an' there's little I can do about it. If you hear something, I suggest ya don't go wandering. It's easy to get lost and I'd hate for a faerie to bedevil ya!" His warning uttered, the diminutive innkeeper took his leave, offering the wolf a final good night.

Crisp did as the innkeeper had instructed, stripping out of his clothes and standing in nothing but his damp briefs as he looked about the surprisingly well-lit environment. His tail swayed above the rear of his underwear, rippling the taut fabric slightly with the movement.

"Well... guess I may as well..." the wolf muttered to himself at last. Stripping the soaked briefs off, Crisp began to dress himself in the clothes so generously donated by his host. The socks reached nearly to his knees and the tight fabric showed off the contours of his legs to an almost uncomfortable degree; there was something decidedly feminine about them, though as Liam had mentioned, beggars couldn't be choosers. The briefs were no better, though they were much warmer than his soaked underwear had been. The cotton was comfortable and despite himself the boy could feel his cock growing hard as the fabric rubbed against him with each movement he made. He made no move to put on the shirt, but rather, after admiring the feel of the gaudy briefs against his still-drying fur, the wolf simply pulled on the shorts and turned towards the door. Depositing the bundle of rain-drenched clothing outside the door as he'd been instructed, Crisp stopped only for a moment as what sounded like a door opening and closing somewhere in the castle caused his ears to perk. The sound carried well in the empty hallways, but the bare-chested lupine soon ducked back into his own room and closed the door.

"These had better not be ruined." Crisp held up his favourite pair of sneakers, looking them over almost curiously as if he could gauge the degree of damage the pounding rain may have caused. The red canvas was darkened by the water, but the white toe-tips were cleaner than they had been in months. 'These should be dry before morning' he thought to himself, relief flooding his mind as he grabbed a towel from the adjoining washroom and wrapped his prized sneakers up in it. Tucking the corners of the towel into the damp shoes to help dry the insoles, the wolf placed them under the bed and turned to wait for supper.

Supper came and went, as did the early evening. The rain continued to drum off of the paned windows, but from in here it was almost pleasant to watch. Fatigue from the long trip to the castled turned hotel soon caught up with the weary wolf, however, and before long the bed was as inviting as the stew Liam had brought to the boy earlier. Shucking off the shamrock-laced shorts, Crisp left the briefs and socks on as he crawled into bed. The soft white blankets were more than he could take, and before long sleep claimed him.

A noise awoke the wolf sometime after midnight. He had been having strange dreams and even once he'd opened his eyes and sat up, the boy was left wondering if this was simply another in a string of odd dreams. The rain had subsided greatly, though his perked ears could still make out the sound of rain still hitting the paned glass. The room was dark, broken only by the thin strip of orange light filtering in from beneath the door.

'A dream' Crisp thought, readying himself to lay back down. His cock was hard with the familiar touch of morning wood, the clean cotton briefs tented against the underside of the blanket in a way that drew a contented sigh from the half-dozing wolf. As he lay back, however, a shadow moved across the light shining beneath the door as though someone had just moved past it. Surely Liam couldn't be awake at this hour, and there were no other guests in the hotel... so...

Despite his better judgement the wolf, now fully awake, blinked once and slid from the bed. His socked feet wear silent as they carried him across the carpet of his bedroom and his cock jostled and bobbed in their tight cotton prison, each step serving to excite it all the more as the fabric of the briefs pulled against it. The sensation was enough to bring a bright blush to the wolf's cheeks, though there was no-one there to see it. Perhaps he had just imagined the shadow, though. Perhaps he was just letting the castle get--there! Again a shadow moved across the slit of light, flitting across it like a bat through a spotlight. His shorts and shoes, he needed his shorts and shoes! The wolf fumbled in the unfamiliar room, the darkness keeping him from finding either until at last his paws closed around the damp towel he had wrapped his sneakers in. The shorts, however, were nowhere to be found.

Cursing himself for not remembering where he'd dropped them, Crisp quickly decided that if he was going to find out what was going on, he'd have to do it without them. Steeling himself the wolf pulled his door open slowly, wincing at the surprising harshness of the orange lights on his darkness-accustomed eyes. It took several seconds before he could properly look down the hallway and there was nothing there waiting for him. 'I'm just tired... Liam said--' Movement caught the wolf's eye in mid-thought, the faint flicker of someone turning the corner at the far end of the hall. Tugging his sneakers on, nose wrinkling at the feel of the dampness still lingering in the canvas shoes, Crisp gave chase.

The hallways were a maze of monotonous orange light and antique oak doors, but at each corner he was graced with another sign of life turning off of the new hallway. Sometimes it would go left, sometimes right, but always Crisp would follow. In his current state of undress the possibility of running into Liam was at the forefront of the wolf's mind, keeping his cheeks flushed and his cock at least half-hard in the novelty briefs he wore. The maze of hallways seemed to stretch on forever, and the wolf began to wonder if perhaps he should have listened to Liam's advice and simply stick to his own room. The decision to turn around was becoming more appealing to the increasingly anxious lupine, at least until he heard the voices.

They echoed in the hallway for a brief second before the sound of a door closing all but cut them off. Someone was here, a fair number of them too if the few seconds of noise had not been addled by the echoing corridors. Why would Liam be having so many guests at such an hour? The lupine frowned and his earlier worries were replaced with a budding curiosity that demanded he look into it; turning back wasn't much of an option at this point anyway, the boy unsure what route would bring him back to his room. Turning the corner the wolf was greeted by a new sight. The hallway was bare, like the others, but this one did not even contain the expected rows of doors. Instead, it bore only one door, a large set of double-doors that reared up in the wall like some hulking beast. Whoever he had been following must have gone in there!

The wolf pulled up to the door slowly, curiosity tempered by a sudden worry that he was about to enter a room full of people in little more than his underwear and a pair of knee-socks. Pushing his ear to the door Crisp could hear the sound of voices on the other side, the laughter of mirthful party-goers easy to distinguish through the heavy wood.

"I'll just poke my head in and let Liam know I'm lost... that's all..." the wolf assured himself. When he cracked open the door the wolf winced, that blush returning. "Unh... Mr O'Brennan? I seem to have--" poking his head into the slightly opened door the wolf was amazed to see the room was empty; a pair of throne-like oaken chairs, both bearing large backs with inlaid shamrocks were the only decoration in the cavernous chamber. "Mr. O'Brennan?" Crisp had been sure he'd heard voices in here.

Stepping into the room the wolf looked around curiously, nervousness still burning strong in his mind though for an entirely different reason now. What was going on here? Frowning as he turned to leave, the boy was amazed to find the door was missing! Somehow, in the moment or two since he'd entered, the door had been replaced by a plain stone wall.

"What?!" The wolf cried out, no longer concerned about the mysterious voices; this was far more troubling, needless to say! Pounding on the stone the wolf cried out for help, fingers digging into the mortar of the chamber wall as though he could somehow open the unremarkable surface.

"You shouldn't have come!" a voice proclaimed from the darkness that ringed the outermost fringes of the room; the light did nothing to illuminate the creeping shadows of the other three walls. "You were warned against wandering!"

"But I--"

"SILENCE!" the voice commanded, and Crisp obeyed while cringing back against the wall that had only moments earlier been a door. "You have interrupted our festivities, outsider and now shall pay the price!"

"Please, I'm sorry!"

"Apologies will not suffice! Only through punishment shall you pay your penance!"

The wolf cringed once again, back pressed flat against the wall as he looked about frantically. There was still no sign of the voice's owner, nor of any of the other party-goers that he had apparently interrupted. A large disc of light erupting against the far wall quickly stole the boy's attention. Sitting in the middle of the spotlight-like illumination was a pair of sparkling green shoes, larger than the ones he had seen Liam wearing earlier but similar in design.

"I hereby sentence you to wear the green shoes!" For the first time the solemnity of the voice was interrupted by a chortle of giggles in the darkness, as though a crowd were watching his every movement and finding it inherently entertaining. Crisp balked. "WEAR THEM OR BE DAMNED FOREVER, MORTAL!" The wolf jumped, crying out in fear-- another peal of giggles and laughter-- before hurrying towards the shoes. His sneakers squelched with each step he took across the wide room's floor. When he reached the shoes the wolf was prompt, tugging each of the shoes off before replacing them with the gaudy green footwear. They were far too large for him and they felt as though he had just slipped into a pair of emerald bricks; they were heavy and clumsy.

Standing there in his underwear, socks and ridiculous green shoes the wolf could only squirm and blush. The spotlight remained on him, drawing attention to his embarrassment. As laughter erupted from the darkness, so too did the squeal of a bow on fiddle strings. The harsh sound gave way to a jaunty tune that seemed as mocking as the laughter had been but also... inviting. The shoes seemed to agree as the began to move, carrying the wolf's legs with them. His feet pivoted and jumped in a jig that had the poor boy put on display for the unseen onlookers. The sound of clapping intermingled with the fiddle music and before long the wolf was lost in a haze of dance-filled humiliation.

His cock bounced and swayed with his steps and much to the boy's horror he could feel it stiffening as the unseen eyes of strangers watched him make a fool of himself. The shoes continued their dance, oblivious to the state they were driving their wear to. It wasn't long before the wolf was tenting out the green briefs with his thick cock, the fabric strained by his eager prick and outlining it nearly perfectly in thin green cotton.

"Look at that! He's getting a boner!" called out one voice! A short burst of laughter was interrupted by another onlooker.

"What cute underwear! Jus' like a girl! Where'd you get the pretty panties, girly?" More laughter. Crisp could feel his cheeks burning even as he clenched his eyes shut. The weight of his shaft bouncing with his dance-filled movements was unbearable.

"At least they match his ridiculous socks!" snapped the first voice. "He must have gotten dressed in the dark!"

"Aw come on, at least the colour suits him! Too bad he can't dance to save his life!"

The taunts continued even as the wolf danced. His paws were pushed against his burgeoning cock, the throbbing flesh seeming to grow hotter even as his cheeks did the same. The warmth of the spotlight didn't help the trapped wolf control himself, and despite himself, he could feel pre-cum ooze from the tip of his dick to stain the front of those briefs.

"Oh! Oh! I think he's gonna cum! Come on girly, cream your lil' panties!" Cruel laughter tinged with one-sided amusement filled the air, coming at the wolf seemingly from every direction at once. The echoing sounds filled his ears and thoughts, crowding him from both outside and in as he danced for their amusement. Minutes passed like this and with each that did, the music grew faster, as did the wolf's dance. It wasn't long before he was panting with fatigue, his legs sore and his briefs damp; rather than rain it was his own juices that soaked through the cotton, however.

"He ain't much of a dancer"

It was too much for the wolf. Without knowing why, he came. Thick globs of his own cum pulsed into the thin briefs, several drops of it escaping through the cotton to drop to the floor as the powerful climax nearly took him off his feet. Still, the shoes forced him to dance.

"He did! Lookit that, all over himself!" The cum continued to flow into the wolf's underwear as he was made a spectacle of all over again. He could feel it coating his now slick shaft and rub against the fur of his balls, oh god, he couldn't bear it anymore! The boy's cheeks were on fire, his eyes watering slightly as he continued to dance. He wasn't sure when it happened, but after what seemed like an eternity of this torture, Crisp passed out.

The wolf awoke to the sun shining through the window of his room and the soft twitter of birds in the trees outside it. There was no sign of the green shoes, or of any voices commanding him to wear them... another dream. Crisp winced as he tried to move, his cock rock hard and his briefs tacky with drying cum; again he blushed as he realized he must have had a wet dream in the night. Slipping from the bed the wolf dressed himself, changing the soiled briefs for his now-dry blue pair and readied himself for the day.

"G'mornin' to ya, lad. Slept well I hope?" Liam asked as Crisp entered the foyer.

"Unh, well, sorta." The wolf answered.

"Aye, I can see that, ya look like ya danced the night away! 'ave trouble sleepin'?" The lupine paused at the expression used by the small innkeeper, the red-haired man's smile not faltering as he simply stared back.

"I... guess ya could say that."

"Great! Oh. I noticed y'er shoes were still quite wet, so I picked out a pair o' mine ya can use f'er today. Nothin' beats a comfortable pair of shoes after a hard night's work, right?" The man pulled a pair of green shoes from behind the counter, placing them atop it before continuing. "They look about y'er size." The innkeeper seemed oblivious to the look of horror on the young wolf's face as he stared wide-eyed at the shoes, Liam continuing to speak, "Y'er bags are over by the door by the way, they arrived just this mornin'... I guess they must 'ave--'ey! Where're you goin'?"

Crisp didn't stop to answer the man properly. Pulling out a wad of bills the wolf practically threw them at the surprised looking innkeeper before turning and running for the door before calling back.

"I have to catch my plane! Sorry!" The wolf grabbed his bags and threw the door open before running out into the morning air, intently aware of the ache in his legs as he ran.

"Well I'll be, you'd think the boy had seen a ghost" Liam muttered to himself, aghast at the wolf's rather rude departure.

"Or a leprechaun" giggled a voice from the niche leading to the gift shop.

"Aye, Peter, or a leprechaun." Answered Liam, a grin pulling his lips up at the corners as he watched Crisp run as though the hounds of hell themselves were after him.