Lord of the Ring Gag

"Silence, man-larl," the man commanded. "Fanfic, this soiling of the goods is unacceptable, and shall result in a drastic reduction in your fee."

"Not so fast, Tarl Gruntwig," the mare countered testily. "Our agreement was for two fresh ponygirls, period. Nobody mentioned the state of their silkiness, or any other conditions. I will be paid 20 silver tarsks apiece, or you can find another purveyor of pulchritude for your slave stables."

"Very well, Fanfic," the man concluded as he withdrew the coins from a leather pouch on his waist. "Same time next month?"

"Absolutely," she smiled. "Lots more where these two lovelies come from. Well, I need to do some shopping before I head back to Snobbiton. Ta tal, all."

With that, Fanfic spun on her hooves and cantered out of the room as the Gorc turned his full attention to Spirella and Marie-Noëlle's quivering, glistening bodies.

"The time has come for your training to begin," he intoned. "We shall start with nadu. On your knees, back straight, with your palms on your thighs…you dare to delay, she-sleen?"

"Hmm, I can see you've got a big day ahead of you here, so I'll just be moseying along," Buttplug said as he began backing slowly out of the room while Spirella and Marie-Noëlle scrambled to the floor. "Don't worry, I can show myself out. Ciao, er, tal, um, whatever, dude…"

"Wait, man-larl of excessively unique coloration," the Gorc barked. "We have unfinished business between us."

Buttplug gulped as a glimmering of the ring's ghastly sway fluttered through his paralyzed psyche.

"You have done your species proud in the transport of the new slaves to me," the man solemnly intoned. "For your efforts, you shall be amply rewarded."

He pulled five silver coins from his purse and pressed them into Buttplug's Day-Glo paw.

"Wow, cool!" Buttplug said with obvious relief. "You're good people, even if you haven't taken a bath for the last three hundred pages."

"Tell me, man-larl, what is your given name?" the man queried.

"Uh, Butt…er, John," Buttplug stuttered. "John Holmes."

"Well, Tarl Holmes of the John, are there others of your species from the land of your Home Stone?"

"Sure!" Buttplug replied cheerfully. "Not as authentic as me, of course, but yeah, there are loads of Furries, not just cats, but dogs too, and foxes, and mice, and tigers, and bunnies, lots of bunnies, and just about any creature you can imagine, and more than a few you can't, or really don't want to."

"I would be most interested in meeting some of the females of your tribe," the Gorc smiled. "Perhaps you could arrange to deliver a few specimens for my inspection in a manner similar to the arrival of these knee walkers."

"Very do-able," Buttplug said, his tongue inadvertently massaging his whiskers. "But I might need one of those magic mouth thingies as bait."

"You can purchase a huda of rings for a copper tarn from the merchants of Port Kar," the man said with a wink.

"Huh?" Buttplug shrugged. "Suit yourself, I'm easy. Well, nice doing business with you."

"I shall anticipate your return to Gorc in not less than five hands," the man said as he returned his gaze to the two ponygirls bowing on the floor. "Did I not command you to maintain a straight back? Look up! Split your knees! More widely, slut! That's better. We shall now test the properties of the rings, starting with the larger one. Yes, you! Stop scowling at me like that! Har-ta!"

Buttplug grinned as he left the room, his mind filled with extravagant tales of enchanted jewelry, inescapable destiny and bard-worthy bravery with which he would ply many female Furries in the days, weeks and months to come.

"Peace on you, Tarl Holmes of the John!" the Gorc called out behind him.

"Goddamned watersport freaks," Buttplug muttered as he groped for his pouch of catnip.

###

Copyright © 2001 by Adrian Hunter and Chelsea Shepard. All rights reserved.