Commission 1: Khan & Kip for hundredand
A Hard lesson learned.

	Kiparu was pretty tired this afternoon, he’d been up and at it since dawn, and his master, Khan, had really been running him ragged with the errands lately.  He’d complained at least once this week that his Master hadn’t been furthering his training at all, and had instead been using him as little more than a slave.   This had brought on a more vicious than usual sparring session that evening, which of course left Kip much worse for the wear.  That had been a few days ago now, but since then, other than his quiet, demanding orders, Khan had said almost nothing to his student, leading Kip to now be worried that his teacher was upset with him.  This all weighed heavily on the young Fox’s mind as he walked back toward the dojo on the outskirts of town.

	As he went, he came upon an interesting sight on the hillside next to the road; an old, weathered-looking Mouse man, with a bent and crooked Oaken staff, laying back against a tree on the edge of the woods, looking tired and helpless.  Lying next to him was a yoke, with two sealed buckets on either end that looked pretty heavy.  At first, Kip thought nothing of the old man, but as he turned to walk away, the words of his master rang into his head.  ‘Men are to be judged by their actions, not their words.’  So, the young fox paused in his tracks and looked back at the old man, then up at the early afternoon sky.  His tasks for the day done, surely Master Khan wouldn’t begrudge him being a mite tardy for doing a good deed.  So, with a slight smile on his face, he walked back, off the path to the old Mouse, and offered him his hand to aid him in standing and to shake.  

	“Greetings old one, I am called Kiparu.”  He stated flatly as he aided the old man to his feet.  “You seem to be in need of aid, might I be able to help you?”

	“Oh!”  The old man sounded genuinely surprised that someone would offer one such as himself assistance and smiled a bit at the taller Fox.  “Y-yes my boy, I seem to be in a bind… I need to get this rice home before nightfall, but it seems these old bones aren’t as spry as they once were.”  He pushes on his back lightly and it crackled like a fire.  “Oh my… could you maybe carry it for me?  It isn’t very far, just past the creek this way.” 

	“It would be dishonorable of me to refuse, so please…” Kip leaned down and picked the rice up onto his shoulders, heavier than it looked but not unmanageable.  “Lead on.”

	The old mouse led him down the forest path in relative silence, until they got to the creek itself.  For some unearthly reason, the crossing was a simple log covered in moss, and the creek bank was higher on the opposing side than the side they stood on.  The old mouse sighed and nodded.  

	“This is the difficult part.”  He said this, but without much effort at all, it seemed, he slowly sidled his way up the log, and stood waiting for the young fox on the other side.  Kiparu gritted his teeth and tried to move up the log the same way, sidelong, pushing up with his back foot.  His balance was thrown off by the rice, however, and though he fought with it valiantly for a minute or two, eventually his knees began to buckle under the effort.  The young fox felt himself slipping, but before he could do much about it, he had turned back to facing the lower shore.  The slippery moss, the weight of the yoke, and just plain bad luck conspired against the poor boy, and the log met his defenseless crotch with a dull, painful thud, depositing fox and cargo face-down in the dirt on the wrong side of the creek.  The old mouse spoke, sounding like he was holding back laughter.  “By the gods, boy, are you alright?”

	“Y-yes…” Kiparu coughed out and grunted weakly, his hands holding tight his injured bits for a moment, one leaving to get him to his feet again.  His voice was shaky and his guts were aflame with the pain shooting from his orbs, but he stood once more anyway.  “It seems I won’t be making it up that log with your rice…”  

	“Well, then you’ll have to brace the creek, and set it on this side before crossing.”  The old mouse said, matter-of-factly, to which Kip merely nodded.  The Fox stripped down to nothing but his fundoshi, gathered up the yoke again, holding it high above his head with arms stretched high, and stepped into the creek.  The water shot into his fur like ice and lightning, sapping the strength further from his aching legs, but his training served him well, and before long the yoke was set upon the far bank.  The water in the creek came nearly to Kiparu’s waist, leaving the poor fox cold and dripping wet when he exited the river a few moments later.  He sighed a little, put his shirt back on, and hung his Gi pants over his shoulders as he carefully crossed the log.  “Fear not boy, if you wish to proceed as you are until you are dry, I will say nothing of it.”  The old mouse was at least understanding, which Kip was thankful for.  He shouldered the yoke again, and the old mouse led them on.  

	Inside of fifteen more minutes, they were coming to the edge of a clearing, which the old mouse remarked was very near their destination.  They paused again, letting the mostly-dry fox put his pants back on, and brush himself off as he looked around.  This clearing was nice, very zen, but after shouldering the yoke again and turning around, its natural beauty was lost on him as a small, blunt object embedded itself in the young fox’s soft, malleable midsection.  
	“URK--!”  Kip’s eyes went wide as the breath was forced from his body, his mouth agape in pain and shock, looking down to see the bottom end of the old mouse’s staff pulling away from his gut.  The pain and sudden breathlessness, combined with the weight of the yoke, drove the young fox to his knees, gripping his belly and heaving his sides to try and force air into his body.  Kiparu stared at the ground, his eyes wide and unblinking, mouth agape and drooling lightly before finally he felt his gut unfold again, a pained, wheezing rush of air being sucked into his burning lungs.  He coughed, struggling to set the yoke aside, the spot where he’d been hit aching like madness, and whined pathetically, choking on his words as he struggled to regain himself.  “W-why?”  He strained out the word as the mouse quietly walked by him into the clearing.  Before the young fox could do anything to stop him, the old mouse had slipped the crook-end of his staff under him, between his legs and up against where his hands were holding his aching middle, and without warning, the fox was airborne, landing gracelessly on the grass a few yards away on his back.  

	“Defend yourself!”  The old mouse said, and as Kip looked at him, he was holding a kung-fu pose, staff behind him at the ready. 

	Kip was scared at first, this lunatic old mouse was lying, obviously a lot stronger than he made out, and now also turning out to be a skilled martial artist.  However, instinct and his training again served the fox well, and he flipped back up onto his feet, and stood back, striking a pose of his own, ready to meet the old mouse head-on.  The two rushed at each other, and a flurry of fists, feet, and other body parts resulted.  Kip tried his hardest to push, to stay aggressive, to stay on the offensive like Master Khan had always taught him, but he couldn’t help himself from trying to defend his unusual weak spot; that fluff covered middle.  No matter how hard he trained, or how many times he got hit there, he never seemed to get any tougher on his poor belly.  The old Mouse kept him well on his toes in that regard, the crook of the staff brushing here and there, stray hands slapping or grazing his midriff, knees and feet rising up dangerously close to his already tender testicles or sore belly.  If Kip had but one thing in spades it was tenacity, but his defense was always his worst area.  

	Suddenly, the mouse’s staff was caught in Kip’s shirt, holding the fox paralyzed on one side, and then came the pain.  A solid knee met Kip’s right side, earning a low grunt, but then a foot came up and met his midsection, causing Kip’s vision to flash white for a moment as his breath was forced out again.  He sputtered a bit, spittle flying from his lips from the impact, but still his assailant continued, another foot coming up to meet Kip’s back, which snapped the fox back to reality.  Before the second kick to his stomach could hit, Kip’s arm was up and out of his shirt, and he spun away from the old mouse, falling to a knee and panting, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as his breath rushed painfully in and out of him.   For some reason the old mouse simply took Kip’s shirt off of his staff, and resumed his pose, smiling at the young fox on his knees. 

	“What troubles you boy?  Am I, an old man, simply too much for you?”  The Mouse taunted the fox quietly, and while it did anger the boy somewhat, he didn’t let it show.  The young fox moved in to attack again, despite perhaps it being a bad idea, using his anger as a weapon.  His sudden burst of ferocity almost seemed to be too much for the old mouse, as the fox managed to land a punch here, a kick there, and even kept himself defended pretty well.  Then of course, things took a turn for the worse when the old mouse planted his staff in the ground, and turned his focus more seriously on the young fox.  The next instant saw the old mouse’s left palm planted firmly against Kip’s solar plexus, the young fox lifted off his feet and thrown back several feet, landing face down with his hands gripping his aching gut.  He coughed and sputtered, panting softly as his mouth watered, little spiders of pain running through his insides as he struggled to force himself to breathe.  It crossed his mind that this old mouse wasn’t attacking him while he was down, for which Kip was thankful, but it made him deathly suspicious.  Kip got to his knees, one hand still rubbing his aching gut, breathing heavily, wiping his mouth and spitting to one side to try and force the taste of pain away.  “You ready yet boy, or will you force me to wait on you further?”

	“You… you’re crazy, old man…”  Kiparu spat nastily in his direction, sick already of having his hide thrashed by this old lunatic, and suddenly, seeing the path off to one side of the clearing, deciding he’d had enough.  “This is pointless… I shall help you no further, nor indulge you any longer in this futile fight.”  With that, Kip stood, counting his shirt a minor loss, and turned away, walking straight away from his older foe.  He was dead set on leaving, just walking slowly toward the edge of the clearing… when his world was lit aflame with extreme anguish again.  Kip’s eyes slowly wandered down his body, toward the source of this fresh hell, and saw the crook of the old man’s stick protruding from between his legs, meaning that the end of it had just been swung up, and into his already injured balls.  A squeak of pained surprise left Kip’s throat, and as the staff moved away, his hands glued themselves to his burning gonads as the fox fell to his knees. 

	“You dare insult your opponent by turning your back on him, boy?!  Have you no sense of respect?!”  The old mouse walked around, pushing the helpless Fox onto his back, and with little semblance of tact, planted one foot on Kip’s stomach, followed by the other.  The young fox coughed and whined, whimpering both from the burning in his male bits, and the sudden unpleasant pressure on his middle.  As the mouse stood there, he rolled the full weight of his body up onto his toes, pressing them hard into the furred flesh of the fox’s middle, increasing the volume and pitch of his whining a bit.  The fox was in hell, trying hard to breathe through both the pain of crushed nuts and the weight of this old mouse on his gut, fighting to make his abdomen rise against the weight, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth from the exertion.  After a few exhaustive breaths like this, the fox’s hands pulled away from his throbbing orbs and gripped the mouse’s ankles weakly, pulling with all his might to move the seemingly smaller male from off of his indented midsection.  “You want me off you, boy?  You’d have better luck moving a tree with those scrawny arms!”  With this the mouse pulled one foot up, causing the other foot to sink deeper, flattening the fox’s middle down to an unreal degree.  He gurgled, drool running out either side of his muzzle as he struggled in vain, both to breathe and to remove the old mouse from his gut.  The fox thrashed, panicking, but right as things looked grim, and he felt himself about to pass out, the weight lifted, and his breath rushed back in.  He panted quickly, rubbing at his gut and throat, the fresh air burning its way back into his body, rolling quickly up to his knees to breathe deeper.   The old mouse smirked off to one side, and watched the boy flounder as he spoke.  “SO, hopefully that will teach you to always respect your opponent, boy.  You turn your back to me again, and you won’t be walking out of this clearing intact, I promise you.”  The threat, veiled thinly, hung in the air as the boy sputtered and coughed his way to his feet.  

	“Why… why are you… doing this to me?”  He whimpered, his legs wobbling beneath him weakly.  Between his crotch being crushed and his gut faring no better, his strength had all but escaped him.  His mouth was watering freely, causing him to drool and spit regularly to keep from choking on it, and he felt his abdominal muscles spasm at random intervals from the trauma they’d incurred.   Once more, the old mouse planted his staff in the ground, and struck a pose as he spoke. 

	“You will learn why boy, if you can last long enough to find out!”  With that, the old man rushed at him this time, forcing the fox onto the defensive, but with all the abuse he’d suffered, he was even less of a match for the old lunatic.  To his credit, Kip put up a lot more of a fight than most would have after such a beating, but the old mouse quickly had him backed up against a tree, and as Kip’s hands dropped lifelessly to his sides, the mouse slammed a fist into the soft, tender flesh in his middle, and mercilessly pinned Kip to the tree.  The fist dug deep, pressing Kip’s insides against each other, and it felt like his whole body was being smushed into his spine, flooding Kip’s punch-drunk mind with new levels of agony.  Kip’s whole world darkened again, his maw splayed open as spittle (as well as all his breath) was forcibly knocked from him.  “What’s your problem boy?  Am I too much for you?”  When Kip didn’t answer for a moment, the mouse’s other hand delivered a quick, open-palm slap right to the Fox’s battered testicles… to almost no reaction.  “Hmm, perhaps I overestimated your resilience after all, boy…”  The mouse retracted his fist for a moment, letting Kip’s breath rush back in.  He then pinned the fox back against the tree with one hand, and with unreal speed, started using two straightened fingers to strike Kip in certain places.  

Kip, in the meantime, was in another new kind of hell, his middle burned like he had swallowed the sun, and his whole body ached like dying, especially his poor, fuzzy belly and his tender, slightly swollen fox nuts.  Now here was this old mouse doing more damage to him… or was he?  Suddenly Kip felt his strength returning, slowly his legs found themselves again, his arms felt less and less like clay, and his vision started to clear.  His balls were still throbbing a bit and the dull, burning ache in his gut wasn’t going anywhere, but he felt his body slowly revitalizing as the old lunatic poked him here and there.  
	“Wha… what are you doing… old man?”  The fox asked slowly, the taste of pain still lingering in his mouth.

	“I am hitting vital Chakra points on your body, to help you heal faster.”  He said as he struck again.  “Now shut your mouth, fool.”  Even as he said this, Kip felt himself feeling a slight bit better than he had before he had met this old mouse.  At this point a funny feeling crept into Kip’s mind, a feeling that something wasn’t quite right.  As the old mouse finished what he was doing and stepped back, letting Kip rest on his own two feet, Kip decided to give in to his curiosity and test his suspicion. 

	“I thank you old one, I suppose…  Now, do you wish to continue our match?”
	“If you think you’ve got it in y-“ Before he could finish his sentence, Kip was back on him, with speed that perhaps shouldn’t have been possible, and his outstretched fingers and their claws mere centimeters from the old mouse’s throat.  Somehow, the old mouse had *caught* Kip’s hand at the wrist, stopping what otherwise may have been a near-lethal finishing blow.  He looked at Kip with a stunned look of incredulity, and spoke softly.  “…the Grass Cutting strike?”

	“Only practitioners of my school know that move, and fewer still are fast enough to counter it at full speed…” Kip whipped his hand away and rolled away, more toward the center of the clearing.  “Who ARE you, old man?”

	“Heh… hehe…”  The old mouse stood for a moment, seemingly stunned, but then burst out laughing madly, holding his sides as he laughed.  Kip watched in growing concern, but finally after a moment, the old mouse spoke again.  “I didn’t think you’d mastered that technique, boy!  You’re almost as fast as I am after all!”  With that, the old mouse whipped off his cloak, and began to growl.  The growl turned into a roar, and with a flash and a soft ripping sound, the disguise of the old, feeble-looking mouse gave way to the visage of Kip’s true opponent.  He stood half a head taller than the fox, covered in green and pale yellow scales, with horns and flowing grey hair.  He picked the cloak back up, not a cloak at all actually, and slipped it on, fitting more closely now as his Gi’s top.  He smirked at Kip knowingly as he tied his belt around his waist, closing his Gi and flexing a bit.  “You’ve impressed me boy.  Now come, show your master what else you have truly learned!” 

	“M-master Khan?!”  Kip was flabbergasted.  His master had been fighting him this whole time.  “With that last move… I… I could have KILLED you, Sensei!”  Kip fell to his knees and bowed to his master in terror for his life.  “P-please, I knew not who I faced, Master Khan… forgive me….”

	“There’s nothing to forgive, you fool!”  Khan laughed derisively.  “You knew not who you faced for a reason!  I was testing your survival instincts, and you surprised me by actually trying to kill someone who had just healed you!”  He motioned the fox to come at him again.  “So come, boy.  Now that you know your true enemy, show me that my teachings have not been lost on your senseless mind!”  He added that last jab as a barb, hopefully to spur his student to fight. 
It worked. 

Kip was on his feet in a moment, and once more they went at it.  Kip held nothing back this time, sure of himself more and sure as well of the older dragon’s resilience to any punishment.  Kip fought hard, throwing punches, kicks, elbows and knees at every possible opening he could find, while doing his best to defend himself as well.  Khan stayed stoic for a while, holding himself dead even with his student for a couple of minutes.  After that, however, the old Master grew tired of holding back, and without warning, slammed an open palm into Kip’s unsuspecting midsection at inhuman speeds.  

Now, Khan was a fairly large dragon, bigger in practically every dimension than his student, and his open hand hit Kip’s midriff hard, and hit practically the entire thing.  Kip’s eyes widened as he felt his master’s hand squish his whole belly inwards, his eyes crossing a little as the impact lifted him skyward.  He felt his master’s whole hand as if it were inside him, pressing the air out of his lungs again and knocking his tongue out of his mouth again with it.  Then, just as the fox felt like he might fold over in half from the impact, he was sent reeling, tumbling for a moment before landing on his hands and knees.  One arm clutched his belly while the other held him up, coughing and sputtering from another merciless blow to his gut, his throat gone dry from all the heaving his breathless state was making his chest do.  No matter how often it happened, he couldn’t ever seem to properly brace for those body blows, nor did they ever seem to lose effectiveness.  His master, wise as he was, allowed the fox ample time to get back to his feet, and to catch his breath, before they got back to it. 

Kip knew that his master wasn’t going to hold back on him, hell he never did, so the young fox pushed himself hard, matching his sensei pace for pace as best he could.  A few glancing blows were stuck between them, nothing serious at first. Then, however, Kip got lucky and landed a swift kick to the side of his master’s knee, dropping the great dragon to the ground on said knee. Kip smiled, and leapt, his leg extended for a flying kick aimed at his Master’s head.  Never could he have predicted his master would be coming back at him almost immediately with a backfist.  Foot met face as fist met groin, causing both males to grunt out in pain, and fall to the ground, Kip of course rolling into a pained, whimpering ball around his mangled man-parts. 

	“Oogh…” Khan wiped his cheek, checking to see if his nose was bleeding from that impact.  He was suitably impressed, Kip had actually landed a possibly debilitating strike on him.  Perhaps he was getting better.  “Well, that was certainly a learning experience, right boy?”  When Kip didn’t immediately answer, Khan turned to look at him sternly, only to see his pupil curled up in a heap a few feet away.  “Kiparu, get up, I couldn’t have hit you that hard.”  Khan went over and rolled the fox onto his other side, quirking an eyeridge as he saw the boy curled up with his tail and hands guarding his crotch and whimpering quietly.  In addition, even through his fluffy white facial fur, the fox looked a rather sickly shade of green.  It didn’t take Khan long to put two and two together.  “Ah, I see.  So our final exchange wasn’t as even as I thought.”  Khan kneeled down by his pupil and tried to move the Fox’s arms and tail away, though they stubbornly persisted in shielding his aching groin for a bit.  Khan grunted in displeasure, and swatted the fox hard on his rear to get his attention.  “Quit your squirming, fool, I’m trying to make sure I didn’t permanently damage you.  I need to see if you’re still in one piece or not.”  Kip reluctantly let go with his hands, silently fearing his sensei would smash his balls again, and whimpered loudly as the dragon untied and tugged off his gi bottoms and undergarments.  
As the dragon exposed the fox’s furry sheath and dangly, swollen orbs to the cool air of the clearing, the familiar scents of exertion and arousal greeted both their noses.  Kiparu couldn’t help but blush heavily… until his master grabbed a paw full of fox nuts, at which point he yelped loudly and squirmed in pain, whining pathetically as the dragon slowly, but firmly, rolled both of his balls between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing perhaps a little more firmly than Kip would have liked.  
	“M-master please…” Kip whined like an injured pup as the dragon checked his fuzzy sac for damage.  “My balls hurt so much…”
	“I’m sure they do, they’ve taken almost as much punishment as your soft, fuzzy middle here.”  The dragon sat down by the fox and poked him in the stomach, which caused the fox to cringe a bit.  “I’d say you’ve had enough wouldn’t you, boy?”  Even as Kip started answering, the dragon put both his hands on his student’s stomach, pressed his fingertips lightly into the sore, damaged tissue, and started lightly massaging the fox’s belly.  
	“I would say I’ve had enoooOOOOOoooohhh…”  The fox made a noise that started off as pain, but quickly turned into a gooey moan of pleasure as his master’s capable hands started rubbing his sore abdominal muscles gently.  He couldn’t help it, despite the unreal punishment his gut had taken that day, this new, lighter, gentler touch felt good like nobody’s business.  ‘The curse of having a tender belly, I guess…’ Kip thought to himself as he lay back.  He splayed out, now totally buck naked, in the soft grass of the clearing, letting his master’s expert touch undo some of what it had previously done to his poor belly.  Master Khan’s hands worked every sore, battered inch of his student’s belly, even parts on the sides that hadn’t taken much damage, and further up onto his chest a ways.  Kip did his best not to simply smile the whole time, but he couldn’t really help the soft moans forced out of him when something felt nice.  

	“Heh…”  Khan chuckled a bit, sometimes amused by the childish nature of his pupil… when it wasn’t angering him to the point of punting him off the dojo’s roof.  However, one thing he did somewhat envy his young pupil for was his seemingly insatiable libido, made obvious at the moment by the slight bit of pink showing from the end of his fuzzy sheath.  ‘Even after having his balls crushed like he has’, Khan thought bemusedly, ‘he is still getting aroused by a simple massage.  Ah, the indiscretion of youth…’  Khan glanced up at Kip’s face, his eyes closed and muzzle obviously trying to hide a satisfied grin, and he smirked lightly.  Ever so slowly, the crafty sensei’s hands rubbed and stroked their way lower on Kip’s soft, furry belly, until his wrists were softly rubbing at either side of the young fox’s sheath.  Kip stifled a lusty whimper, thinking his master wasn’t doing it on purpose and not daring to look, and for a little while, that’s how it went, Khan lightly rubbing at Kip’s sore belly with his hands while his wrists and lower arms brushed teasingly against the boy’s sheath and swollen nuts.

Finally, however, Khan decided to be kind to his pupil.  He had done well, and he had certainly taken a good bit of abuse before giving out, the older dragon felt that a slightly happy ending to an otherwise hard day was not too much to ask.  So, without a word, his grip slid lower still, one powerful hand gently cupping and caressing the fox’s abused balls, while the other began to slowly stroke at the firmness hidden within the fox’s sheath.  

Kip was suddenly very torn.  On the one hand, his balls ached like fire, and he wanted nothing more than to not have attention drawn to or paid to them.  On the other, his master’s hands on his aching loins felt *so* good, that very quickly Kip found himself utterly exposed, and his tender, twitching shaft being stroked by the dragon’s expert hand.  Kiparu whined and squirmed over and over as his master stroked his needy shaft, the wise but slightly sadistic dragon striking a delicate balance between rubbing and squeezing Kip’s aching testicles painfully, and stroking him off so gracefully.  
For a few long, tense minutes, the dragon edged the young fox closer and closer to his release, being sure to give the poor boy’s balls a few good, firm squeezes to make sure the pupil remembered who his master truly was.  Before long, however, the fox’s knot began to swell, his hips began to buck up toward his master’s hand, and finally with a few cute, excited yips, Kip came in spectacular fashion.  His seed shot up and over him, some landing on the ground beside his head, some on his fuzzy chest and belly, and the rest dribbling slowly onto his crotch.  Khan wiped his hand on the grass, looking up to the darkening sky and sighing as he helped his pupil get to his feet.

	“Get the rice, boy, we’re going home.”  The dragon said, taking up his staff again.
	“What about my clothes, Sensei?”  The naked, somewhat dirty fox asked tentatively, picking up the rice as he was told anyway.  
	“Consider this your penalty for losing, boy.” The dragon snorted with a grin, reaching out and poking the fox in the belly, and then the balls, with his staff.  “And you know where my staff will fall if I hear any complaints!  Now let’s get going!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Commission for Hundredand, characters © Hundredand
Cost: $50
Final Word Count: 5,088
Completion Time: WAY too long.  (Sorry about that!)