Miaren's respite is short-lived as the attendants settle her tail into place.  The leather windings of the tail brush against the tender walls of her rectum, sending lightning dancing up and down her spine.  She is also receiving Fern's scent and emotions by virtue of their position and the link between them.  The half-elf's climax reverberates through her mind close on the heels of her own, sending sympathetic pulses through her.<br/><br/>Her rocking motion quickens briefly, then collapses to the lapping of a calm sea, inexorable, but soothing.  Her now-sopping folds glide over Fern's fingers.  While those digits don't have the experience of the lean elf hovering nearby, they provide some measure of relief from the ointment's persisting call.