The evil taxman woke up slowly. He hadn't slept very well, and he suspected he knew why. His bed was just too convenient for trysts. It was out of the way; therefore the participants were unlikely to be interrupted. It was just the right height. It was sturdy, easily able to hold two bodies. And the lid was polished and smooth. No splinters.

But they forget, or don't care that it was HIS bed! He got out of his coffin and got dressed. He shut the lid and looked at it with a sigh. Yup, someone had been here. Chocolate syrup spots, and sticky drops. He scraped at one and raised it to his mouth. Honey.

Not much to narrow down the suspects. Neither Cat, Friday nor Ali was averse to sweet accoutrements. But then he spotted the feather stuck to one drop of honey. A soft and iridescent feather. A Muse's feather. Friday's feather.

As he cleaned his coffin, he made a decision. If the ladies were going to use his room for trysts, he was going to have to punish them. Actually, he should punish the knights too, but that didn't turn him on.

When he finished oiling the top of his bed, he took the offending feather and went to find Friday. He finally found her alone in the kitchen, counting the giant cans of chocolate sauce and barrels of honey.

"Friday!" He roared.

She jumped with a squeal and spun around, her fist between her breasts and trying to catch her breath. "Para! Shit, you scared me! What's got you so pissy this evening?"

He showed her the feather. "Oh goody, thank you! My wings were looking a little out of sync." She danced over to take it back but he caught her hand when she tried to take it.

"I found it on my bed. Stuck in some honey. Honey that I didn't get to enjoy. Now, honestly, I don't mind you or the other Ladies using my bed to tryst on. But from now on, if you don't clean up after, I'm going to spank you. Starting now."

Friday's eyes widened in surprise at his words, and she tried to pull away. But he was strong, and in truth, she didn't try all that hard. He scooted one of the chairs away from the table and sat down, then pulled her down and over his lap.

The little muse was wearing a plaid schoolgirl skirt, a white cotton blouse, tube socks and black maryjanes. Pretty white panties peeked from under her skirt, and he'd already noticed she'd neglected her brassiere.

"Friday, I think I'm going to enjoy this," he said as he tugged her skirt up to her waist and ran his hand over her cotton-covered bottom.

She looked over her shoulder, pushing her wings out of the way so she could see his face. "Go ahead, I dare you!"

His hand came down with a firm slap on her bottom, drawing a startled yelp from the little muse.

"You spanked me! I can't believe you did that! OW!"

The second blow dropped as she protested.

"Friday, I think this should be a bare-bottomed punishment. Lift up a little." When she did, he pulled her panties down around her ankles. He ran his palm against her silky skin, before delivering another stinging smack to her cheek. He alternated cheeks and carefully measured his blows. Soon both cheeks glowed a bright red.

"There, was that bad?" he asked.

"Yes," she pouted. "I don't think I like you anymore."

"Well, I can't have that, sweet Friday. Let me try to change your mind." With that, he tossed her over his shoulder. As she protested, he walked around the kitchen, opening the fridge and gathering things she couldn't see. Then he carried her to her room, her panties still around her ankles and her bright red bottom visible to anyone that happened by.

Kicking the door shut behind them, he lay her face down on her bed. "Now, the first thing to do is cool the burning." He hiked her skirt up again and leaned over her. She could feel his cool breath against her hot skin, then she felt something cold stroke her bottom.