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lt was, by most measures, an exceptionally pleasant day. A cool breeze blew in from across the harbour, bringing with it the crisp, salty scent of ocean spray and the sweet aroma of the flowers in the palace gardens. Guards patrolled the walls and ramparts, uninterested in the wider happenings that had beset the Basidian Islands of late, content to simply execute their duty. They had little choice in the matter, compelled as they were by an unyielding urge to obey, as intrinsic to their being as the urge to eat and breathe.

It was this resolute, even dour, demeanor that rendered their society practically immune to hardship; it's foundations remaining as solid and unmoving as a mountain range for a thousand years. To visitors from the wider world, of which there were currently an unusually large number present in the city, little would seem out of place. Indeed, were it not for the presence of a crumbled tower and a slightly elevated number of wounded guards, there would be nothing to suggest anything had happened at all.

That suited Eric Vaughan just fine. Trouble was bad for business, and any businessman worth a damn would prize certainty above almost all else.

It was perhaps, then, a little odd that the blond haired human found himself answering a most unusual call. Standing as he was in a room in the upper reaches of the palace keep, he had a good view of the city; stretching from palace grounds, across the bustling town and to the port where his ship was moored. Under normal circumstances, that's where he'd be; strutting about upon his deck, issuing orders and dealing with the local merchants, trading and bargaining.

These, however, were not normal circumstances.

Though it had been with trepidation that he had accepted the invitation, he was certainly eager to see where it may lead, even if his nerves had not yet settled. Dressed in his finest, Eric turned the embossed parchment over in his hands, reading the words again, as if he may have missed something the last dozen or so times he'd read it.

'Your attendance and services are requested in the palace keep, 10am on the morrow. By order of King Adelaide.'

Attendance and services. This wasn't a simple courtesy visit, something was required of him, and that made Eric nervous. Compounding his concern was the origin of the invitation - the basitin king herself. What could she possibly want with him, what would she have him do? Considering the local situation and recent events, it would be prudent to presume she would have much more pressing matters on her mind.

“The king will see you now, sir."

A guard interrupted him from behind. Whatever problems beset the island, they were clearly about to play second fiddle to whatever Jade Adelaide had in mind.

---

Most of the interior of the palace keep was bare stone, though it had been skillfully worked. Barren and eminently practical to the last brick, as was typical of basitin stylings. Guards slept in austere barracks, and ate in austere mess halls, without any hint of luxury or convenience. No libraries or common rooms were available, though this did not seem to bother the inhabitants. The sole exception to this were the sprawling grounds, adorned with lavish gardens and baths, which Eric admitted were quite picturesque.

The hallway through which he now walked, following a pair of armoured guards, was no exception. Grim and claustrophobic, what little sunlight penetrated this far into the keep was thankfully complimented by the flickering of torches, even if this did give the palace the air of a dungeon. The journey was silent, the leather-muffled footsteps of the guards hardly carrying in the thick air.

"Wait here."

It was with some umbridge that Eric Vaughan heeded the guard's advice. He had been called, told to wait, and now told to wait again.

"Excuse me, guard, but why aren't we. . ."

The metallic thud of heavy, armoured boots on stone approached from the rear.

"Mr Vaughan," a powerful, yet undeniably feminine voice echoed just behind him, "I'm very glad you could come."

Eric spun about; the experience of formal dinners, fancy dress parties and hundreds of other engagements with nobles and royalty coming to the fore. With well practiced motions, he stepped forward, bending his knee and sweeping his hat from his head, bowing low.

"Your Majesty," he began, "it is an honour to be so graciously invited into your presence, I am at your service. Please allow me to. . ."

A hearty chuckle cut him off.

"Oh, you humans do amuse me so. We're not here from pomp and ceremony, Mr Vaughan, you may relax."

"Of course," he took the interruption in stride, "what I meant to. . . say. . . was. . ."

He stood up.

Jade Adelaide was standing far closer than he had anticipated, flanked by two of her royal guards. Gilded armour gleamed across her form. Pauldrons were set atop her broad shoulders, and a breastplate embossed with the Basitin royal crest was affixed to her torso, all giving way to an ornately decorated armoured skirt. Draped across her back was a robe, reaching all the way to the stone floor. At her hip hung a sword. Six feet in length, it was the sort that even a human male of stout stature would wield in both hands, and yet she casually rested a single, elegant paw across its hilt as if it were a knife.

And elegant, she was.

Despite her stature, towering over the human male, there was a grace about her that Eric had seldom seen even in keidran or humans, let alone a basitin. He had seen his fair share of females of all species. Some he'd call cute, others sexy. Jade Adelaide was, for lack of a more appropriate word, beautiful. Stunningly so. A slender, attractive face, gorgeous green eyes set against light brown fur, and a charming, alluring smile. As always, she wore her crown, accentuating the luxurious, pointed ears her people were so known for. Shining, golden hair, highlighted with the faintest hint of silver, flowed down her back, groomed to an exceptional standard and lightly perfumed.

"Mr Vaughan?"

"Oh," he collected himself, returning the smile, "how may I be of service, ma'am?"

"I'm glad you asked!" she clasped her paws together, "I have a need for someone with unique skills, skills which I am sorry to say my charges simply do not possess."

Eric ventured a raised eyebrow, "what skills, may I ask?"

"Please, follow me."

King Adelaide wheeled about, setting off down the hall, her guards in tow. She strode confidently, bearing no herald at her fore. A leader first and foremost, the lone Basitin in their society to whom an order would never be issued. Her armour clinked with each step, and Eric set off in pursuit, having to half jog to keep up with her lengthy strides.

"I'm of the understanding, Mr Vaughan, that. . ."

It was his turn to interrupt, "call me Eric, ma'am, it would put me at ease."

She shot him a sly look, "nervous, are we, Mr Vaughan?"

"Inspired, Your Majesty."

A booming laugh, "very well, Eric. I much prefer that anyway. Titles can be so stuffy."

He smiled back.

"As I was saying," she continued, "I find myself in need of a particular set of skills, and I believe you may be able to help me out"

"You flatter me, ma'am, but I still do not know what I could offer you."

"Here, look," she came to an abrupt stop beneath a towering portrait of a very regal looking Basitin, his armour even gaudier than hers, "Alistair Albion. My tutor spent a whole six months lecturing me on his achievements when I was a whelp. This painting was commissioned almost three hundred years ago to the day. It's hung here ever since."

"It's a very nice painting, ma'am," commented Eric.

"Oh please," she waved a paw dismissively, "you can have a nice chamber pot; it doesn't make the contents any more appealing."

"Touche."

"Not just old Alistair, either. Bartholomew. Ignatius. Marrick." Her paw motioned about the hallway, indicating each musty, old painting in turn. "I've seen more cheerful tombstones. We take pride in ourselves, but we'd be fools if we thought we could count art among our strengths."

Eric shuffled, taking in the paintings. Competently produced, certainly, though completely lacking in any sort of fair.

"That," Jade Adelaide turned to face Eric, "is where your services come in."

"You'd like a portrait, ma'am?" he asked.

"In short, yes," she replied, “I'm not going to be in this world forever, and I'll be damned if they hang me up as just another stone faced sovereign, destined to bore some poor student to tears in a hundred years' time."

She continued up the hallway, passing more paintings of deceased kings, expressions cold and unyielding to the last. A short walk later, and they had arrived at a pair of thick, oaken doors, set deep into the wall. Two more guards, identically adorned to her entourage, stood motionless to either side.

"I trust that you can be discreet about this matter, Eric?" She had an air of jest about her, hips ever so slightly canted to the right, and the corner of her mouth curled up in an almost imperceptible smirk.

Language that Eric understood to his core, "of course, Your Majesty."

"Good," she continued, "our official portrait artist would have a seizure if he learned I was allowing an outsider, and a human at that, to do his job for him. He's a delicate soul. And then there is the matter of having you enter my private chambers."

Eric Vaughan's heart skipped a beat, "p-private chambers?!"

"Sire!" One of the guards, silent until this point, had interjected, swiftly positioning himself between the king and the human. "Absolutely not! I cannot perm. . ."

"Captain," Adelaide's tone was one of a mother reprimanding her child, "Mr Vaughan is a guest. He is here upon my personal invitation. He can go wherever I say he can go."

The guard wasn't having any of it. His feet shifted, knees bending and centre of gravity lowering as he adopted an aggressive stance, tail swishing rapidly behind him.

Eric took a few steps backwards, hands raised defensively.

To his surprise, the remaining three guards hadn't joined their comrade. Rather, they were facing off against Adelaide, who stood still, seemingly unconcerned by what would be an unacceptable challenge to authority in human lands. She swiveled about her hips, her eyes switching between her subordinates.

"It would not be proper, sire," another guard spoke, his voice a growl beneath his helmet, "there are protocols. Visitors must be accompanied by an escort at all times. We wo-"

"SERGEANT!" Her paw gripped about her sword, a full foot of the blade flashing into view, "Do you mean to imply that I am incapable of defending myself in my own keep?"

He didn't back down, "no, Ma'am. It is not your safety that concerns me. Word of this human has spread; his exploits are vile and improper!"

Adelaide unsheathed a few additional inches of her sword, and took a single, heavy step towards the guards.

And growled.

"Am I to understand that my wishes will not be respected in this matter?"

Another step, and another growl, deeper this time, resonating about the hall; thunderous and terrifying.

The guard faltered, eyes flickering to his two compatriots, then to his captain, still menacing Eric.

"If that is the case," she continued, all motherly warmth now gone, "and if he is improper as you say, then by all means, apprehend him."

She flashed her fangs.

"Try it."

Already wavering and faced with an impossible prospect, the four royal guards relented, stepping back both from the female basitin and human male.

"We do not wish to presume, Your Majesty."

"No," Adelaide's expression was still fierce, her words almost a snarl, "you certainly don't, nor will you. You will go to the treasury and ensure that Mr Vaughan's payment is ready for him. Now!"

With a crisp, simultaneous salute, the diminutive basitin guards marched off down the hall.

In an instant, Adelaide's endearing smile returned, as if all they'd had thus far had been pleasant conversation, “my apologies, Eric. Please, come in."

Effortlessly, she pushed the heavy double door aside, stepping forward and into her personal quarters. Eric followed, finding himself in a small, but well furnished antechamber, with adjoining washroom and wardrobe. Though the basitins favoured a harsh, minimalist approach to their households, eschewing luxury and comfort, Adelaide had clearly allowed herself some concessions. The chambers were by no means opulent, but still well appointed with sturdy furniture, a smattering of paintings and thick, plush carpet underfoot. A far cry from the cold stone of the rest of the keep.

Moving through, Adelaide unclasped her sword from her belt, depositing it on a stand just inside the entrance. Following her, Eric entered the bedroom proper, a sizable, open space replete with a vast array of weapon racks and armour dummies. The south-facing wall, opposite the entrance, however, had floor to ceiling windows stretching from one side of the room to the other, glass stained with images of what Eric assumed were basitin heros. Set dead centre, below a canopy of crimson silk, was the single largest bed the human had ever seen. King size indeed.

“Welcome," she said kindly, motioning for the human to seat himself upon one of the available chairs, “it's nice to be out of the spotlight for a moment. The guards mean well, but I would be lying to you if I said I didn't crave a bit of alone time once in a while. Public life can be. . . trying, at times."

Eric sat down, glancing about the room, feeling suddenly very small. All the furniture had been made for someone a good deal taller than he, and his feet only just touched the ground from where he sat. Adelaide, in the meanwhile, busied herself in shedding her armour, placing the pieces carefully upon one of the dummies.

“Ma'am," Eric started, trying his best not to stare, “you mentioned this was to be discr. . ."

“Okay, first rule," she interjected, spinning about and placing her paws on her hips. “No more ma'am, majesty or sire, I get enough of that out there. Call me Jade."

"Of course. . . Jade. That's a lovely name."

"Thank you!"

He cleared his throat, "I can't help but worry, Jade, that this might not be as discreet as you had hoped. Your guards know I am here, and they didn't seem all that pleased. Do you trust them?"

"With my life," her reply was completely nonchalant, "don't concern yourself with that little display; you're not a basitin, you wouldn't understand."

"Quite so."

Jade removed the last few pieces of armour. Placing the breastplate upon the dummy, she left herself clad in markedly simple outfit consisting of a quilted jacket and thick canvas trousers. True to his nature, and now without armour obscuring her form, Eric immediately picked out the fact that she had a rather nicely portioned and shaped chest.

"Well, Eric," she spoke as she made her way back towards the entrance, her step far more casual and relaxed, "you haven't made a run for it yet, so it seems I can trust you. If what I've heard of your artistic talents are even half true, I am sure you'll be able to provide exactly the service I require. You will find supplies in that chest over there, I trust that they will be of suitable quality; we purchased them from your ship, after all."

She flashed him another smile, "now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to change into something a little more suitable. Oh, and help yourself to some wine."

He did a double take. Those words, so often spoken with an undertone of innuendo, sent a shiver across Eric's skin. Something more suitable, or more comfortable? She had indeed said as much, her voice coy and playful.

He felt hot under his collar.

"Oh, uh. . ." Eric found his voice caught in his throat, "by all means."

As Jade disappeared into her wardrobe, the human busied himself with the art supplies. True enough, this was the very same stock he had purveyed at trade ports up and down the mainland coast, as well as being the brushes and paints of choice for his personal works. He placed a chair some ten feet back from the foot of the bed, and set his easel and paints off to the side. He cast his eyes about the room. The light filtering in through the windows, coloured by the stained panels, cast a kaleidoscopic pattern across the bedspread. He envisioned the reflections dancing off her fur, imaging where she might sit, what angles he might paint from. An artist's mind at work.

The door to the wardrobe reopened.

“I hope this will suffice, Eric."

“Wow. . ."

Sufficient would be an understatement. What she had chosen did indeed look more comfortable. A long, flowing silken gown now hung delicately from her shoulders, the low cut back carssesing over her form, hugging tightly over her pert, toned buttocks and gliding down her legs. It trailed behind her, giving the basitin the illusion of floating as she walked over to the bed and sat at its edge, crossing her legs.

"So," she began, "how does this work? I must confess I've never done anything quite like this before."

Eric repositioned his reading glasses, "well, Jade, that all depends on what sort of painting you want. I. . . forgive me, but you're not after a portrait, are you."

Jade smirked, raising a paw to her face and flicking aside a few strands of her hair. Green eyes fixed on Eric, her long, pointed ears casually flicking back and forth. She slowly uncrossed her legs, then quickly crossed them back the other way.

"Figured that one out, did you?"

"I've, ahem, done portraiture for nobility and royalty before, though never while they're wearing their negligee."

Jade giggled, “but you have done this before, haven't you?"

"I, uh. . . yes, I have."

"Tell me about it."

Eric was starting to sweat a little. Events had taken a very sudden turn, and he wasn't sure he was entirely comfortable with where the conversation was going, even if he was starting to feel a stir in his pants.

"There isn't much to say," he picked his words with care, "I am a man who has certain. . . opportunities to explore things in life, things which many others do not, and may even frown upon."

"You refer of course to your sizable harem of female keidran, do you not?" Jade said, matter-of-factly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Jade."

"Yes Jade."

She leaned forward a little, "and you often paint images of them in various. . . poses, yes?"

"I do."

Jade Adelaide simply stared at the diminutive human, her fierce, green eyes piercing into him. For the shortest moment, Eric felt an overwhelming sense of dread. The basitin were a people of rules and regulation, many outright oppressive even by Templar standards. Foreigner or not, he had confessed to activities that would land him in a dungeon, or worse. He would. . .

"I'd like you to paint me like one of your keidran girls, Eric."

The request hit him like a blast of dragon's fire, heat rising in his cheeks and flushing his face red. Eric's eyes went wide.

"Wh. . . what. . ."

Jade never gave him the opportunity to complete the sentence. Standing up, she took a step forward and gave her guest a single twirl, tail swishing past this face. Without an ounce of hesitation, she reached behind her, slipping the gown over each shoulder in turn and allowing it to cascade down her form, all the way to the floor.

She was flawless; age had not sullied her beauty. Her body, toned and sculpted to sublime perfection, was one to give females of less than half her years cause to turn green with envy. Her silky, luxurious fur softened the, at times, harsh lines of her musculature, though did little to diminish just how exceptional her femine physique was. Bare basitin breasts sprung into view with a slight bounce. Nicely sized and shaped, her nipples poked through the feather-soft fluff covering her mounds. Eric couldn't help notice that they were ever so slightly erect.

Most notable of all, however, was that she was wearing a thong.

A black one.

Not the frumpy undergarments that one might wear under armour, nor a standard pair of panties with a decent amount of coverage. A thong. A tiny triangle material covered her nethers, straps wrapping around her sides and meeting just under her tail before tucking snuggly between her cheeks. The fur of her ass was left completely bare, with very little imagination required to fill in the gaps.

Jade twirled again, slipping a finger under one of the straps and snapping it against her immaculately shaped hips.

"Well, what do you think?" she thrust her chest out as she spoke. "We had to buy these from your ship as well, such underwear is hardly available on the islands. It's quality material too; feels nice."

Eric was only half recovered from his state bit shock, "Jade, I'm not sure. . . this is a good idea."

She cocked her head to the side, still standing near-nude directly in front of him.

"And why not? You heard me before; I'm not immortal, and I'd like to have a few foreign experiences before I die. This seems like it will be fun."

Eric gulped. There was no escaping it. Here he was with someone who could probably snap his spine with one paw, and she was acting like an excited schoolgirl.

"So, ah, Jade, shall we begin?" he motioned towards the bed.

"Oh yes, of course! How would you like me posed for you? Do you want my legs in the air or so. .."

"Woah, woah!" the image Jade had just put in his mind had caused rather uncharacteristic outburst. "I mean, let's start simple. Sit on the edge, cross your legs and lean back on one elbow, if you'd be so kind."

She strutted back over to the bed, giving Eric quite the eyeful of her perfectly shaped rump before momentarily pausing, her paws reaching for the crown still atop her head.

“Wait!" Eric interrupted, “Leave the crown on. It looks good on you."

Jade paused. Her paws trembled as they withdrew from the crown and returned hang limply by her sides. Mouth slightly open, the female basitin closed her eyes softly. Her bottom lip quivered, the movements almost imperceptible, and she let out a sigh.

“Say. .. . say that again. Please."

It was Eric's turn to grin, “leave the crown on, Jade."

He'd seen this before, seen the stress and anxiety that a lack of authority brought to a basitin. A biological urge foreign to both humans and keidran, they craved hiercharchy, craved a society in which everyone had their place, and were told what to do by their superiors.

All of them, it seemed.

“Sit on the bed." His voice was calm and kind. It wasn't an order, or even a strong suggestion, and it certainly wasn't mind control. Jade wanted to do this. She wanted to be painted. She had told him so.

“So, Eric," her tone suggested that nothing was out of place, as she stretched out as instructed, pushing her breasts front and centre, “I'm hoping that you don't mind doing more than one."

“Of course not, I am at your service."

And so, he painted. In the same manner that he would paint one of his keidran girls, he painted the basitin king. All seven foot two of Jade Adelaide was spread out before him, lounging on the bed, topless and wearing panties so skimpy so as to be almost non-existent, and he painted her. She was remarkably relaxed about the affair, making small talk with him, asking about his travels, his previous exploits, and other curiosities that crossed her mind.

It would be some ten minutes before the conversation topic came to the inevitable.

“Do humans like basitin?"

“What do you mean?" he had finished the outline and was now adding colour, “I would say that most humans don't know any basitin, it's not like your people travel all that much.

A giggle, “no, not like that. Do humans like basitin? You seem to like keidran enough."

“Oh, I see. Well. . ." he didn't quite know how to put it, “you're very attractive, Jade."

She snapped her teeth at him playfully, “that's most kind of you, Eric"

“But I won't lie," he continued, “there are plenty of humans who like keidran in that way, myself included. I'm not a Templar, no sense in hiding the truth."

“Oh?"

A few more brush strokes, “you don't seem to be as concerned about basitin societal norms, if you don't mind me saying so. I can't speak on behalf of anyone else, but I certainly like basitin well enough. I wouldn't mind having a few on my crew. A few cute ones."

“Is that so? You might have a bit of trouble with that, Eric. We can be quite stubborn, especially in such matters."

Eric raised an eyebrow, “you don't seem to be all that stubborn."

“No, I don't suppose I. . . am." to emphasise, she brought her paws up to her breasts, giving each a playful squeeze in turn, “I wouldn't keep my sanity if I followed every. . . little. . . rule, would I? And. . . I'm curious about this sort of thing.

The painting was finished. It was hardly his finest work, though he had been somewhat rushed, and his pounding heart and uncomfortably tight pants had not helped.

“Jade, let's try something else."

“What do you have in mind?"

He glanced about the room, scanning various objects before eyes came to settle up a sceptre, leaning against the head of her bed.

“That, pick that up, and. . . uh."

“Hmmm, planning on something a little more regal?" she purred, spinning around and hiking her tail up, crawling across the bed on all fours and giving Eric yet another fantastic view of her posterior. She rubbed her thighs together as she moved, slowly sliding each furred limb past the other, her hips twisting and gyrating from side to side. Lingering just a moment, she pressed her rump backwards, the fabric of the thong straining and pressing into her crotch, before snatching up the sceptre.

“Pass me some wine, I'd like to have something in each paw. I think it would look better, don't you?"

The human dutifully obliged, pouring a generous portion of red wine into a goblet. Walking around the side of the bed, he passed it to the basitin, now sitting with her legs hanging from the opposite side of the matress. With a smile, she accepted.

“So, how's this?" she asked, resting one paw atop the sceptre, the other casually holding the goblet. Her eyes flashed back over her shoulder, muzzle curled into a grin.

Eric's eyes lit up. This was ideal. This was erotic. The frontal image he has just captured on canvas certainly had its appeal; delightful curves, delicious breasts, and wondrous hips all wrapped in an enticing feminine physique, risque and alluring. His nights, he was sure, would be filled over the coming days and weeks with dreams in which he would recollect in vivid details of what she had presented to him.

But this, though, was a step from the sexy and attractive towards the sensual; towards the mysterious and erotic, the sort of image that would allow the male mind to run wild. Sometimes, what was hidden was more exciting and arousing than what was shown. Sitting down as she was, all that could be seen from Eric's position was the tiniest hint of her bosom poking either side, her back, shoulders, all perfect in their definition, and of course, her buttocks.

“Jade," he began, pulling his chair a few inches closed, “could you arch your back a little, please?"

She rolled her eyes, “oh come on, do you have to make it sound so formal? I thought we had dropped all of that."

Eric cleared his throat, “Jade. . ."

“Yes?" her tone was as innocent as a seven foot something basitin could muster.

“. . . arch your back for me."

Her grin turned to a giggle, “oh, yes sir!"

The effect was immediate, both upon her and the human. As instructed, she bowed the small of her back inwards, accentuating her ass and pushing it outward just a little. Her tail flowed down and across the bed sheets, the base uncovered. . .

Uncovered.

He hadn't noticed it until this point, why would he? Strict social norms were to be expected, including standards of nudity, though the suggestive nature in which Jade Adelaide had been acting had pushed such nuances from his mind. His keidran girls walked around naked all the time, and typically such displays would not be cause for concern. Here, though, the human had to remind himself that a display of the base of the tail was paramount to a sexual display usually reserved for a lover.

That, he was completely confident, was not how Jade saw him. The only reasonable conclusion left was that in the absence of her guards, she was simply teasing him.

And she was very, very good at it.

“Something catch your eye?" she asked, as if on queue.

Very good indeed.

“No," he replied, “well, maybe a little something. Just uh. . . thinking."

“How do I look then, hmm?" The bashful question was accompanied by a slight wave of her tail.

“Perfect, Jade," Eric said, immediately setting to work on the second painting, “stunning."

There was little in the way of conversation as he worked. Jade spent a good portion of the time starting wistfully out the stained glass window, affording the human the occasionally flirtatious glance back over her shoulder. With a snap of her fangs here and there, or a wiggle of her hips and a swish of her tail, she continued to maintain the steamy tension in the air. It certainly wasn't doing Eric's brushwork any favours; he routinely found himself staring, a fact that Jade picked up on without fail, much to her delight. After some time, perhaps twenty minutes, she took a sip from the goblet before breaking the silence.

“Eric," she began, “tell me how these things usually play out for you?

“What do you mean?"

She shifted a little, “I know your little keidran girls quite adore you, magic aside. So you paint them, get them to show themselves off to you. . . then what?"

“Oh, well I. . ." his hand stopped moving, the painting momentarily forgotten, “. . . I like to have a bit of fun. N-not that I would ever force them to do anything, no!"

“I didn't mean to presume."

He returned to his work, his unsteady hand suffering even further as his heart pounded, his fingers trembling at every little suggestive motion, every little lurid glance. Jade seemed exceptionally pleased with herself, humming a little, completely relaxed in her nakedness.

A few final strokes.

“And. . . done." Eric said.

“Fantastic!" Jade turned to face him, shuffling forward and sitting on the edge of the bed, “was I a good subject?"

“The best, Jade. I couldn't ask for a more beautiful or enthralling basitin."

It was fleeting; a flash of crimson he would have missed were he not already staring directly at her, but Eric swore he saw the tiniest hint of a blush.

“I mean it," he continued, “you shouldn't keep yourself so modestly covered. I am honoured that you. . ."

“HA!" she boomed, interrupting him, “don't think I don't know you game, human. It is of course flattering that you think so highly of me, even if it's not just your brain doing the thinking there."

Eric frowned. She was enjoying this just a little too much.

“But you are correct," she said, “it is refreshing to have this opportunity to let myself relax a little. I don't suppose I'll have the chance again for some time, so I'd best be making the most of it. How would you like to do one more painting for me?"

He nodded in response, “of course, anything you desire."

“Oh, Eric," she remarked, “there are some habits we just don't seem to be able to get out of you, aren't there?"

He smiled, “I am a creature of my own nature."

“Quite, that's why you're here. I am still interested in some of the paintings you've done in the past. I'd like you to humour me, for just a moment."

Eric dropped the noble act, “go on."

Jade's eyes narrowed, teeth now showing from behind a sulty, aggressive grin, “pretend I am one of your keidran girls, and you are about to paint me. You'd probably have something quite dirty in mind, wouldn't you?"

“Yes, I suppose I would."

“What might you say to her? Or to me?"

His throat felt tight. Banter was one thing; their little game until now had been quite enjoyable; but being asked to so openly discuss such vivid, inappropriate details, that was something else entirely. The words he would use floated in his mind, the associated imagery testing his resolve.

I. . . I. . ." he stammered.

She fluttered her eyelids, “Yes? You?"

“I suppose I might say. . ."

The human almost jumped from his seat at the almighty smack Jade made as she brought her paw down upon her own rump, grasping at her flesh, tugging ever so slightly upwards and madly flicking her tail back and forth.

“Do you like this?" she asked, giving her posterior a firm squeeze.

“I. . . do, Jade," he finally found his response.

“Then say it. Say it to me. You like. . .?"

Eric took a deep breath, “I like you ass."

The female basitin giggled, bouncing just a little on the spot.

Eric followed up with another comment, “I really, really like your ass. I like your breasts. I like your tail, your fur, your ears. Everything, Jade, I want to see everything."

“Well," she tapped her finger to her chin, “you've already seen my ass. What else did you want to see?"

“Oh. . . you were. . ."

She was being serious.

“Come on now, anything you want," she stared directly into his eyes, a fierce, burning gaze, “anything at all. You're here to paint me, and you can paint whatever. . . you. . . want."

“I would. . . can I paint. . ." his heart was practically exploding out of his chest.

“Remember, I'm just one of your little keidrans. All soft and pliable, ready to do what the master wants."

Eric closed his eyes. He imagined his life to this point; the things he had done, the sights and sounds he had seen, and the pleasures he had sampled. His life had been built around such luxuries. Of all the world, he had experienced far more than most. Yet here he was, atop a castle's keep, mere feet from the most forbidden of all fruit. It was ripe for the plucking, all he needed to do was. . .

"Show me your cunt, Jade."

Her eyes fluttered closed.

She bit her bottom lip.

"Ohhhh, say that again. . . please!"

“Show me your cunt."

“Again!"

"Show me your cunt. Show me that delicious pussy of yours. Spread it for me."

Jade Adelaide, naked save for the seductive black thong clinging to her nethers, slowly turned around, facing her back to the human painter. She crossed her arms over her breasts, shooting a mischievous look back over her shoulder, dropping her paws and running them smoothly and sensually down her flanks before pushing them out and over the bedcovers. Slowly, teasingly, she bent herself forward, dropping her chest down and pressing it into the soft mattress, eyes closing as her face found the comfort of a pillow, arms now folded in front of her for support. Her rump lifted up, knees drifting apart, thighs spreading and long, flowing tail rising up, giving Eric an unobstructed view of her panty clad crotch. One of her paws found its way from its position by her head, teasing each breast in turn as it passed them, brushing through her silky smooth belly fur and slipping between her legs, palm now pressing against her nethers.

"Hmmmm. . ."

Her heavenly, femine scent filled the air, rich with desire, awash with carnal lust. A contented moan escaped her lips, face blissful and serene as her fingers found the edge of the panties, sliding up and down along her crotch. never quite slipping all the way in, she gave her audience a teasing, tantalising show, wanton and burlesque. For what seemed like an eternity, the basitin teased both herself and the human, every little flick of her digits a suggestion that the display would descend into obscene depravity.

And then it did.

The moan that now escaped her throat was deep and guttural; the sound of long awaited release washing over her, reverberating about the room. Jade's fingers pushed under the crotch of her thong, sliding over her heated, damp sex. A single digit teased her entrance, the female basitin fighting the titanic impulse to plunge it all the way in, urged onwards by a renewed surge of sexual hormones. The internal turmoil lasted a few agonising moments, and just as she started to move the intruding finger back and forth, she pulled back.

All the way.

Catching the edge of her panties, she pulled the dampened fabric covering her crotch to the side, shameless and willingly exposing her glistening wet pussy. Her folds parted ever so slightly, delicate petals peeling back to reveal the soft, warm pinkness within. Beads of her nectar flowed across her lips, running from her love tunnel, down her slit and dripping off the end of her clit; a small nub peeking out from under its hood.

Eric gawked. He couldn't help himself, not in the slightest. In his profession, he had a good number female keidran and his beck and call, and had called upon them more than once to model for him, in any number of lewd and erotic poses. Jade, however, was something else entirely.

"Like what you see?" her voice flowed like molten wax. Like honey.

The basitin's tail flicked upward, swishing out circles in the air, her divine femine scent, utterly and irresistibly intoxicating, spreading about the room. Her perfect, shapely rump framed that most enticing, erotic prize; her dripping honeypot, soaking wet and thrust out, presented for his eyes to devour. With sensual motions that dripped with obscene eroticism, Jade moved her free paw to join the first, rubbing directly over her mound a few times before settling her ring and index finger on either side of her slit. Slowly, she spread her cunt open for her now utterly enthralled and enraptured audience, soft petals parting and exposing her most intimate place.

"Ohhhh yes, make sure you get all of this. Get all of me. . . every last little bit."

Her middle finger, tip wet with juices from the brief teasing she has given herself, found her clit, strumming across the sensitive flesh once, twice, three times before sliding down, dragging through her folds and halting, hovering just over her entrance. There would be no holding back this time, no moderation. Jade plunged her finger into her pussy, pressing all the way in, arching her back and rocking her hips, shuddering with searing, white hot ecstasy.

“It's. . . been a while."

She pulled the finger out, circling it about her love tunnel a few times before sinking it back in, her walls clamping down tightly, jolts of long denied pleasure washing over her body.

“Like this. Paint me like this."

Eric had outright forgotten, up to this point, that he was here to paint, so transfixed he was upon the bastin's display. The brazen exposure of her snatch, not just an artful peek or cheeky tease, but amorously spread and open, bearing every piece of her intimate flesh, had dulled his mind to the point of stupor. He simply stared, engrossed a sight few had seen, and he'd almost never see again.

“Eric?" Jade cood, “are you going to start. . . or did you want to join me?"

“I. . . uh. . ."

A most unexpected invitation, with alarming prospects. The playful tone in her voice suggested that she wasn't serious, and was merely having a bit of fun with the enraptured human. But. . . there was still a suggestion.

". . . uh. . ."

Finally, Eric put paint to canvas. Having considered the merits and drawbacks of the terrifying and tantalising proposal, he decided that sex with Jade Adelaide wasn't in order today. He liked his bones in their current, non-shattered state, and didn't trust his lithe frame to endure what the seven foot two inch female basitin would likely subject him to during intercourse.

Art however, was most certainly his element, trembling hands notwithstanding.

He started where it mattered most. A few brush strokes, and he had outlined her sex, splayed open, inviting and wet, her finger deeply embedded in her tunnel. Occasionally, she would wiggle her hips, curling her digit just a little inside her, each motion causing a few beads of moisture to drop from her lips, and a gasp of pleasure to escape her muzzle.

Eric captured it all. Finishing with one of the most wickedly explicit renditions of a cunt he had ever drawn, be moved to outlining her curves, dragging the bush across the surface of the canvass, producing curvaceous arcs and sensual lines as he traced out her ass, tail and sleek, toned legs. The human's eyes darted back and forth between his work and his subject, heart racing and he fought to keep his calm.

Jade wasn't helping. Her finger, embedded in her pussy, twitched, then curled, probing at her most sensitive spot. Long forbidden pleasure raced up her body, causing furs to bristle and another moan, almost whimpering this time, to escape her lips. There was a need, something to be satiated, and it was screaming at her. There was a pleasure to be had, and it was a pleasure she could share, one she would allow this lone human to capture.

A second finger joined the first, sliding slowly into her heated, wet sex.

She circled her fingertips again about that pulsing, hypersensitive spot inside her, pressing down on it, her body shuddering with every motion.

"I hope you don't mind if I. . ." her voice was a whisper, heated and needy. The digits slowly withdrew from her tunnel, wet and glistening. She shamelessly massaged her clit for a few seconds before need overwhelmed her and she sunk her fingers into her cunt again.

". . .just take care. . . of this."

If there was one wish that Eric could have granted to him at that point, it would have been the ability to paint a picture that moved. Some method to capture the scene that now played out in front of him. Jade hiked her tail directly upwards, pushing back even further, spreading and displaying herself without even the slightest hesitation, and set about fingering herself raw. Her paw slid back and forth with a steady rhythm, spreading her freely flowing juices about her loins. Gasps and moans filled the air, her eyes shut tight and maw hung limply open as she explored and probed her pussy with her fingers. The sound, the smell, and the sight was far beyond anything Eric may have imagined the day would bring when he awoke that morning.

"That's it, Jade, pleasure yourself. You're beautiful. You're unbelievable."

He had finally found his voice, and his words urged her on. Her fingers plunged in and out of her soaked sex, every thrust if her paw bringing her that one step closer. A climax built inside her, screamed at her to be released, demanded that years of neglect be repaid in full.

“Ohhhhh. . . feels. . sooooo good. . ."

By now, Jade was beyond any notion of stopping. Her paw danced between her legs, fingers switching between invading her vagina, sliding through her folds and mercilessly assaulting her clit.

"Cum. Make yourself cum."

"YES!"

She tensed, her whole body wracked with unrestrained pleasure. Ripples of esctasy shuddered across her fur, muscles straining, her paw fucking herself raw.

“OH HEAVENS YES!"

Eric was transfixed. Enthralled. Absorbed entirely in the carnal display of self-pleasure unfolding before him. She was close, he could see it. Her fingers moved in and out herself with a desire and need that would not, could not be contained.

“Say it, Jade," he whispered.

“I'm. . ."

“Say it."

“I'M CUMMING!"

She wailed, high and piercing, a scream of sexual release filling the air, drowing out the obscene sounds of her fingers and they continued to work at her wet, gushing sex. Her free paw grasped a fistful of the bedcovers, tearing across them, ripping out a long strip of fabric and spreading soft, white features about. Years of need overwhelmed her. Her orgasm, so long desired, consumed every inch of her form, electrifying her sex as her fluids flowed freely, running across her paw, cascading down her thighs, squirting out.

“I. . . cu. .. c. . ."

Jade's eyes rolled back into her skull. Far from a quick, heated release, her climax built further. She couldn't move; couldn't talk or breath. The only thought consuming the basitin was that of mercilessly assulting her cunt, pounding her sex with her digits, not stopping; mind, body and soul riding a thunderbolt of boundless, immeasurable bliss.

“Oh gods. . . I. . . please!"

Tears welled in her eyes. With a growl, deep and guttural, she plunged her two fingers in as far as her titanic strength would let her, pushed them across her g-spot, pressed down and thrashed them back and forth inside her with wild, senseless abandon. Her orgasmic storm peaked, a crescendo that saw a final gush of her nectar splash across her legs, across the bed and onto the floor. Her pussy pulsed and spasmed. Completely spent and sensitive beyond measure, it protested the continued invasion of her fingers, still wriggling and massaging her walls as her climax subsided. A few final drops of her feminine essence fell from her lips, and her fingers slid out with a delightfully wet sound.

For the next few moments, she lay collapsed, still showing her wet pussy to the human. The only sound was now that of the hairs of his brush moving across his workpiece, finalising the image, immortalising it for all time.

Finally, she rolled over, throwing her arms out to either side and laying back on the bed. Her naked chest rose and fell with her soft breathing. A few further moments passed in silence before she finally spoke.

"Done with that pose?" she asked, her expression one of supreme contentedness.

Eric dabbed a few final drops of paint onto the canvas, "I. . .I think so, Jade."

“Hmmmm, I hope I look good. . ."

As if her depraved masturbation session had somehow not satiated her, she reached down between her legs with her paw, massaging her palm over her still-searing and wet mound before spreading her lips apart again.

"Want a taste?" she moaned.

Eric's heart couldn't take much more of this, his pulse again elevating as yet another teasing offer was put before him. The passions put on display, he thought, were finally starting to subside. This would leave him to hand over the paintings as requested, accept payment, return to his quarters aboard his ship, call for a few of his keidran girls and spend the rest of the day and a good portion of the evening relieving himself of the frustrations that had built up over the past hour and a half.

No such luck, however. Jade Adelaide clearly had other things in mind.

“Please, Jade," he started, “while I would love more than anything to. . ."

“Then do it."

“Excuse me?"

She stood up, making a slow and sensuous show of licking her own juices from her fingers, "I really don't ever get to do anything like this, so I was just going to, you know, take this chance to act a bit slutty."

She sauntered over to him, hips swaying and tail arcing behind her. Deftly she picked up the easle, painting included, with a single paw, placing it to the side and taking one final step. At over seven feet tall, Jade towered over the human, her crotch exactly at his eye level.

All the confidence that Eric had displayed as the basitin had posed, writhed and masturbated for him evaporated. He was once again the nervous, small human that this fiery female has so entrapped with her sexuality. Thoughts of broken bones flooded back to his mind.

"Jade," he started, eyes still fixed upon her snatch, "you're a bit better than that, aren't yooAAAHH!"

The chair was shoved back a good two feet, screeching across the stone floor. Jade had stepped up with her right foot, slamming it down upon the seat cushion just to the left of Eric's lap. The motion had parted her nether lips, assaulting Eric's already overwhelmed senses with her divine feminine scent. Her pussy, still wet and dripping a few sparkling drops of her love fluid into his lap, was now inches from his face. He could all but feel her sexual heat, radiant upon his skin.

"And what if I don't want to be?" There was a slight hint of aggression in her voice. "What if I want to be a slut?"

"W-well. . . then of c-course you can. . ."

A paw settled atop his head, gripping his skull like iron.

"Good. I'm glad you don't think that being a basitin automatically means I am just another prude. So, like before," her remaining paw snaked down between her thighs, cupping her mound for a moment before spreading her cunt apart, "do you want a taste?"

Her clit was practically touching his nose. A single, tiny movement would be all it would take, and he could devour her honeypot, feast on her nectar.

And likely end up in the medical wing.

"I. . ." he tore his gaze from the wondrous view presented to him, craning his neck upwards and meeting her stormy green eyes with his own.

The basitin was grinning, the edge of her mouth curled up in a smirk.

He gulped, then responded, "yes."

The smirk turned into a laugh. Jade withdrew, stepping down from the chair and removing her paw from her nethers.

"Thank you," her voice was once again soft and kind, "it's nice to know I'm still desirable. That is, of course, if I am not misjudging the situation. A seeming as how poor a job your trousers are doing in hiding your excitement, I don't think I am. I would be lying if I said this hasn't been quite exciting for me too, my heart is still racing!"

Eric didn't even bother to retort. He was as hard a rock.

“I don't mean to disappoint you," she continued, walking to where her silken gown lay discarded. Bending over, she flicked her tail up, giving her audience one last, teasting, tantalising glance at her glorious pussy, before pulling the garment up and over her form, slipping the thin straps over her shoulders.

“I'm certainly curious, but I can't, it wouldn't be right." She now stood in front of him, looking just as elegant as ever.

“I understand," he replied.

“No, I don't think you do."

“Jade," he rose from his chair and moved a few feet closer, “clearly you wanted something of a more intimate nature produced for you today. You don't strike me as the narcissistic type, so I doubt these are for your personal collection. There must be someone. . . special, who these are intended for."

She smiled sadly, picking up the bawdy painting and eyeing the lewd image of herself, “yes, you're right. I miss him dearly, and would very much like to see him again. I thought something like this might. . . remind him of what we had shared."

“He's very lucky, he doesn't know what he's missing."

She sighed, “he knows, but it's me who is lucky. He is the only one who saw me for a woman. He wanted me, not power or status. Just. . . me."

Eric bowed, returning to the properly mannered noble who had entered the castle earlier that morning, “I hope my efforts will not go in vain, your majesty. No payment is required, you have shared with me something that. . . I. . . will never forget.

“Oh but I must give you something!" she bounded across the room in a few, graceful strides, “I can't imagine how you must feel. I'm sure your girls will be in for a treat tonight!"

She scooped that something from the ground, shooting Eric another teasing glance and grin,and pressed it into his hands..

That something was warm and damp.

“I'd keep those hidden until you're out of the castle. Basitin noses are. . . sensitive."

Eric opened his hand, eyes shooting down to see. . .

“Oh. . . my. . ."

A thong. A damp, black thong. Her essence clung to it, deliciously feminine and driving his senses wild.

He shoved it quickly inside his pocket.

“Now, Mr Vaughan," Adelaide too returned to her refined, regal self, clutching the gown to her chest, “I trust you can find your way out. The guards won't give you any trouble. . ."

She winked. A tiny, almost imperceptible wink, “. . . if you're quick."