***For those who were curious about the full story of The Very Naughty Skunk which was mentioned from time to time throughout Separate Vacations. Enjoy!***



Aimee, Sheila and Jill's Artificial Intelligence Maidbot Electronic Escort cautiously placed her chair beside me in the deep mud of our backyard, taking great care to ensure her feet didn't accidentally kick me, or that her plush pink skunk costume didn't drag in the mire, a challenge given the setting sun and the fact that I was hog-tied and buried nearly to my neck in the muddy pit. She smoothed out her apron and opened well worn book, her glowing eyes illuminating the pictures. "Once there was a very naughty skunk...." Beside me, Sheila seemed less interested in the story, rocking back and forth as she was in the thick muck. Understandable, this was her first time hearing it.





"Shhh! I'm trying to listen to the story!" I hissed, which caused my rubber pig snout's elastic band to shift slightly, tickling my cheek. Sheila's thrashing and grunting were surprisingly distracting beside me.



Sheila's pig snout was strapped more robustly to her nose with a series of pink patent leather straps, possibly due to the additional stress it was under bravely straining to keep a comical silicone apple-shaped ball gag between her lips. Both Sheila and I had matching plush pink headbands glued into our hair.



"Mousier Skunky, Mistress Sheila, do you not want to hear the story?" Aimee scolded in her delicate French accent. We both froze, nodding politely. "That's better. I shall continue." Aimee went on.



"Apparently your safeword has to be verbal?" I whispered to Sheila softly. The eyeroll she gave me confirmed my inquiry. Aimee just paused, shot us both an accusatory look like a tested librarian, and continued.



"The Naughty Skunk loved to play tricks all day. He would place buckets of slime over the bed of his wife, he would invite his neighbors to a costume party at the inn when there was none. He would hide rotten eggs in the pockets of his co-workers." Somehow from the book emerged the unmistakable smell of rotten egg.



His friends and family grew so tired of the Naughty Skunk's pranks, they went deep into the forest to ask the Fae for help. The Fae, a small but beautiful winged fairy girl with black eyes, a jester-like costume, and an evil smirk fluttered in the center of a fairy ring. "Who has disturbed my sacred realm?" she threatened, as threatening as a tiny fairy's tinkling voice could be.



The Village elder approached, hat in hand. "We're sorry to disturb you, but we request a favor."



"You know every favor from the Fae comes at a price." the fairy warned adorably.



"Please, we have no other hope. The Naughty Skunk's pranks have gotten out of hand. We can't turn around without a messy, stinky, or humiliating prank!" the Naughty Skunk's wife pleaded. The fairy's face grew curious, clearly interested.



"I can help you." Agreed the fairy. But at a terrible cost! One member of your village must be cursed to be pied for all eternity whenever the Fae see fit!" she giggled wickedly. The scent of whipped cream emerged from the book.

"Um, that's easy. Just, uh, do that to the Naughty Skunk." the village elder offered, scratching his chin. The others all murmured in agreement.



"Very well!" the fairy giggled, vanishing. The villagers returned home.

The Naughty Skunk was started by a small fairy appearing above him. "Whatever you cause others to feel you will feel." the Faye giggled, sparkles like fireflies wafting from the tip of her wand and settling on his snout. A pie materialized, splattering into his face. Then in a flash, she was gone, only the echoes of giggling remained.



Shaken, but not deterred, the Naughty Skunk, noting he was all alone, was busy setting up the messiest, smelliest prank of all. Over the door of every home he set up a bucket of rotten eggs, spoiled cream, wilting produce or old paint. The villagers arrived. "We can see you!" they grumbled.



"Yeah, it's a really small village, like all our doors face one another's." observed another villager.



One of the villagers slammed their front door in disgust. But the bucket did not fall. Instead, its contents appeared above the head of the naughty skunk, covering him in spoiled milk. The scent of rotten dairy wafted from the book. Sheila and Skunky gagged.



The Naughty Skunk was flummoxed! He ran to another door and opened it. Thick pink paint splattered over his fur. He ran to another door, where a bucket of thick tar and a bag of delicate feathers crashed down upon him, turning him from black and white, to, well, stickier, more ticklish black and white.



Realizing his mistake, The Naughty Skunk, humiliated, dragged himself to the middle of the village. "I'm sorry everyone! From now own, no more pranks!" At those words, a wave of pleasure came over the naughty skunk. In the mud beside Aimee, a low hum emitted from the pig costumes deep in the mud. Both Skunky and Sheila began to breathe quickly as waves of pleasure washed over them.



Just then, a pie materialized over The Naughty Skunk, splattering across his already mess coated fur comically. A fairy giggled in the night. The vibrations in the pig costumes grew impossible to ignore or resist, not that either of the bound, humiliated listeners felt much like resisting. They both exploded in ecstasy as the powerful scent of whipped cream drifted out of the book.



"From that day on, there was a very obedient skunk." Aimee closed the book theatrically, "Bonne nuit Mistress Sheila and Mousier Skunky!" Aimee purred hypnotically, Sheila's breathing heavy and her eyes still lost in the afterglow.



Jill peeked out through the kitchen door window, a massive grin on her face as she watched the last of the sunset disappear behind the silhouettes of two mud-caked grown-ups in pig ears buried up to their necks in muck as a very sexy robotic skunkmaid tucked the book under her arm, brushed the mud from her high heels, and smoothly navigated the mud to firmer grass, hips swaying while her plush skunk tail bounced playfully towards the warmly lit house. Jill suspected she'd have hell to pay when they got free, but it was probably worth it.