Formalities

"Renounce your evil ways, bitch!" The paladin's yell, muffled slightly by an enclosing helmet, filled the mostly empty room. From an overstuffed chair surrounded by a pile of books, and exasperated-looking woman glared over her glasses, staring daggers back at the fidgety man in plate now occupying the space the door had once been. She would need to make her mate fix that later. The gods alone knew why he insisted on breaking it every damn week. She sometimes wondered if the door was designed to be broken in like that, given how easily he seemed to break it down every time. Then again, he did have quite a bit of practice.

Giving up on actually getting any quiet time to herself, she folded the corner of her page and regarded the interloper with mild amusement and spoke up, "Do we really need to do this right now, Chuck?"

"Justice waits for no man, woman, or even dragon, monster! And do not call me Chuck. I am Sir Charles the Relentless, slayer of the foul dragon of Rotendorf, destroyer of the arch lich Szilard, purifier of the great necropolis of -" he was cut off by a narrow jet of flame aimed directly at his face, which he sidestepped to avoid. "You think such petty tricks could fool a servant of -ooof!" The paladin's monologue was swiftly interrupted as he was beaten aside by a long, red tail that had swept out from the side of the room without warning. His eyes following the tail back from where it had struck him, the fallen knight watched the long, scaly appendage wrap behind a pile of books to attach to the rear of the woman, now standing in front of her chair, book still in hand.

"I am not familiar with this master you speak of. 'Oof', was it?" The woman replied with a grin, now stepping slowly towards the paladin. As she drew closer, it was impossible to miss the sway of her hips under the checkered bath robe she wore over her pale skin. Waist-length red hair, slightly mussed by hours spent curled up on a chair, spread down her back, dancing over the large tail now protruding behind her, lifting up the robe.

"You can at least try to take this a little seriously, Elizabeth," the paladin said with mock offense in his voice.

"You tell me to take this seriously? Did you even bring your sword?"

Shit. He knew he had forgotten something. Scrambling to pick up the crumbling pieces of his pride, he rose quickly to his feet and assumed a boxing stance, throwing mock punches in the direction of his opponent. "I need no weapon to defeat the likes of you. Have at me, and feel the crushing weight of justice."

She folded her glasses with a sigh, putting them in the breast pocket of her robe. Untying the rope around her waist, she let the linen slide down her narrow shoulders, slowing briefly just below, caught upon her generous cleavage. Falling lower, the cloth revealed a long, toned stomach that gave way to wide hips. Her curvaceous figure belied the strength the knight knew hid underneath her alabaster skin. His eyes following the sinking gown, the knight saw a neat tuft of crimson hair crowning her mons, slightly obscuring the view below. Nevertheless, Charles knew all-to-well what lay beyond that well-kept curtain of hair: Puffy. Dragon. Vulva. She stepped over the robe, now discarded about her feet, and continued to approach the knight, who still stood awkwardly in the doorway, gauntleted fists held before him.

Dropping to her hands and knees, the woman began to grow. First, her arms and legs began to stretch and widen, a faint pattern of scales printing behind her porcelain flesh. Scales began to spread from the base of her tail, forming an armored ridge of red along her spine and spreading down her sides. Head thrown back, she began to claw at the floor as her limbs started to redden and fingers fuse into muscular claws, tipped with sharp, ebony-colored talons. Wings erupted violently from her back as she continued to grow, already far larger than the ridiculous-looking knight before her. Her entire body shook as her head began to elongate, her jaw protruding along with her snout as it was pulled forwards, as if by an invisible rope, into the fearsome maw of a dragon. Finally, as enormous, hellishly sharp teeth began to sprout from her mouth and the small, ridged horns that identified her kind began to emerge from the crown of what used to be her forehead, her hair began to recede into what the paladin assumed to be the remnants of her scalp.

The woman-turned-dragon straightened herself out and stretched her wings, knocking over the piles of books that surrounded her throne. Picking up her robe with a single claw, she tossed it gently over her back, where it landed without sound on the mound of books. The paladin still stood before her, arms dropping slightly at the sight, though obviously still insistent upon seeing this through to the end. Finally returning to his senses, he lifted and crouched behind the cracked wooden door just as a blast of fire began to spew from the dragon's mouth.

Cursing his easily-distracted mind, the knight pushed towards the dragon, shoulder and arm supporting the door as her breath threatened to rip it out of his grasp. When the hail of fire ended, he dropped his nearly incinerated, impromptu shield and broke into a dead sprint towards the dragon. He looked up just in time to see a toothy (fanged, really) grin start to spread across the dragon's mouth as he ran towards her. Realizing immediately what that smile meant, he redoubled his efforts, charging the dragon with reckless abandon. Just as he felt the heat begin to well up in her throat, he slid easily under her massive reptilian form.

Coming to a stop just behind the dragon, Charles knew he had little time before Elizabeth would begin swatting him with her tail. Fumbling for a small bottle in the satchel on his belt, he uncorked it and poured its aromatic contents over his gauntleted fist and vambrace. Olive oil. He wondered, briefly, if she would appreciate how hard it was to get olive oil all the way out here. Concentrated now on the task at hand, he rose swiftly behind her, ducking under her massive tail as she began to flail and setting his sights - and gauntlet - on the prize. Puffy. Dragon. Vulva.

With a shout of triumph, the knight sunk his fist and forearm, all the way to the elbow, into the dragon's snatch. A telling blow, for certain. She barely managed to let out a gasp of surprise as he entered her suddenly. Interpreting her cries as a sign of imminent victory, the paladin prepared himself for the fight ahead. Holding fast on her tail, he began to work the entire length of his arm into her, until his pauldron was spreading her wide.

"Charles, what the hell do you think you're doing back there?" The dragon's roar sounded at once both angry and more than a little frightened.

He said nothing, knowing that the enormous dragon before him was reduced to little more than terrifying, scaled, fire-breathing sock puppet. And he was the puppeteer. Grinning to himself silently over the idea of a draconic sock puppet, he began to pull his arm out, withdrawing until he could just see the back of his gauntlet, even shinier now that it was slick with oil and dragon. Holding on for dear life and muttering a prayer to the gods - he wasn't very particular about which at this point - Charles began to build up a steady motion, driving his fist in and out of the dragon.

Finally recovering from the surprise fisting, Elizabeth began to shake violently, trying to throw the crazed knight off her rear. She was rewarded with the sound of violent clanks, scraping, and yelps of pain as she smashed him into floor, wall, and ceiling alike. Unfortunately, this seemed little to deter his efforts, as his fisting only seemed to grow faster and harder as he clung to her tail. After a moment, her attempts at liquifying the paladin within his armor began to lose enthusiasm, turning instead into violent thrusts backwards to meet his arm. She felt her rear flush with blood as he used his hands to grab at her inside folds, now incredibly wet with her arousal. The mail encasing his fingers felt like nothing she had ever felt before, stimulating hundreds of points at once with their incessant scraping. She could do without the couter banging around clumsily inside her, but the feel of the mail sliding over her walls as he tried to adjust his grip inside her was enthralling.

With Elizabeth no longer trying to kill him, Charles took the opportunity to try one of the techniques he had been saving for just such a situation. The last member of a long hereditary line of paladins and dragon hunters, Charles' grasp of dragon anatomy - literally as well as figuratively - was better than any living man. As he pushed his arm in one more time, he bent his arm at the elbow, driving the couter hard into her lower wall, seeking a hidden weak point of the dragon.

Roaring with both pleasure and surprise as the knight practically smashed through her g-spot, the dragon began to lose control of her own actions. She bucked wildly up and down, nearly tearing the man's arm off at the shoulder. Her frantic motion only served to collide his elbow with her spot again and again, whipping her into ever greater heights of pleasure as she felt a familiar and not-at-all unwelcome pleasure build in her stomach.

Meanwhile, Charles was again hanging on for dear life. Losing his grip on her tail, he shot his arm forward, desperately clutching at anything within reach to keep himself from being thrown through the ceiling. Grasping blindly about her hindquarters, the panicked knight finally found purchase with his left hand, grabbing tight against his newly found handhold. It took him less than a second to remember that dragons do not come with convenient handholds for one to use while fisting them. With sudden horror, he realized what he had just done and wondered if he would survive what was about to come.

Just as the pressure in her loins was about to break, Elizabeth felt her assailant's hand spear through and grab the rim of her ass. As his mailed hand clamped down tight, she ceased her bucking and held stock stiff. With the final bit of stimulation provided by the knight's impromptu sodomy, the pleasure that had been building within her had finally come to a head. Losing herself to her own orgasm, Elizabeth faintly recognized the sound of metal creaking and giving way as she clamped down on the knights arm, bending and buckling the metal protecting his arm from the violence of her contractions. Instead of dying down, the pleasure inside her continued to swell as the knight panicked and tried in vain to wrest his arm from her twitching snatch.

This is how he was going to die. A long, noble career of vanquishing evil ended at the hand of a dragon. Well, not the hand at all really, but Charles could not quite come to grips with the idea of losing an arm to a dragon's vagina and being crushed to death under her weight. Deciding to make sure that his would be a death dragonkind would never forget, he made one last effort, forcing his elbow as hard as he could into the dragon's g-spot while quickly squeezing and loosing his fist, brushing occasionally at what he presumed to be her cervix. Pressed as he was against her mound, Charles had no hope to escape what was to come, even if he had known what was about to happen. With a shudder strong enough to lift the armored man off his feet, the floodgates within the dragon opened, forcing out a sweet, clear liquid with the force of a thousand angry gods. It went everywhere. The knight let out a panicked gurgle as his helmet was filled with her cum, covering his mouth and nose with fluid. He slipped and fell as he lost his footing to the combined force and slipperiness of the tsunami he was weathering. Caught by his arm, still lodged firmly within the dragon, Charles fell, slipping face-first into the steam of girl cum being fired out by the dragon. Already literally full to the eyes with her juices, the knight had no choice but to endure the indignity of being hosed off by a dragon. In his mind, he added one final entry to his list of things to do before he died: drown in dragon's vaginal fluids. Checking this last entry contentedly, he closed his eyes and prepared for the inevitable.

As her last torrent of fluid subsided, Elizabeth heard a hacking cough coming from behind her. Lost in her post-orgasmic haze, she though the sound was familiar, like a man trying not to drown. Oh, shit. Pulling herself forward as hard as she could, the dragon finally managed to dislodge the paladin, his body slumping to the floor as he grasped at his helmet, trying to remove it but having a hard time grasping it through all of her secretions. She quickly realized that with her current size, she could do little to assist the flailing paladin, whose legs were now kicking desperately at the ground as he struggled with his helmet. She began to transform as quickly as possible, slowed only by the question now running through her head. Who the hell makes water-tight helmets?

With a bit of help from an extra set of hands, Sir Charles finally managed to remove his helmet, the fluids that were nearly the death of him rushing out to escape to the ground. While still gasping and choking for breath, the knight became aware of the well-figured redhead standing above him, eyes wet and face scrunched in a look of deep concern staring down at him.

Relieved to see that her knight was recovering, Elizabeth threw herself onto his breastplate, wrapping her arms around him in a crushing hug, her fear slowly dissolving as she hugged tighter and tighter into his armor, even as its edges began to press painfully into her flesh. "I was afraid I lost you" she cried into his gorget, rubbing her face crudely against his jaw. "I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry, that's never happened to me before, I didn't know." She was cut off as his mailed hand grasped her hair, pulling her face up to his and into a kiss.

To be honest, Sir Charles could taste little other than her cum and what he figured was his own blood. Nevertheless, he deepened their kiss, parting lips to clear the path for their tongues. They explored each others' mouths for some time, only regretfully breaking their embrace as Elizabeth was forced to come up for air. Already having almost drowned once today, Charles was pretty sure he could have kept going for a while yet. One must explore his own limits, and he was certain that he could hold his breath longer than he previously thought, so long as he needed to. No longer distracted by the sudden intimacy, the knight was reminded once again of his recent actions by the throbbing pain in his arm. Turning to examine his armor, he suddenly came to appreciate it more than he ever had during his adventuring days. The sheer amount of twisted and broken metal left no doubt that unprotected, his arm would have been in far worse shape than his armor now was. "You owe me new armor."

"And you owe me new books," she said with a grin, gesturing to the mound, now completely soaked with her own fluids, ink washed out and visibly pooling around the pile. Deciding such concerns are best left for later, she set herself to unstrapping his armor. Catching the look of confusion on the knight's face, she meets his look with a seductive grin, "Oh, don't tell me you are done already. I'm just getting started."

In this world, there are two types of men: those who become aroused by near-death experiences, and those who do not. As it turns out, Charles was one of the former. Years spent fighting dragons, hordes of the undead, and demons alike with an erection trapped within the steel coffin of his codpiece had made him curse his proclivities. However, as his member sprang from its captivity when his armor was removed, he began to reconsider his stance. Freed from the ruined carcass of his armor, he paused to inspect his arm. Aside from some minor cuts and bruises, it was more-or-less intact. Assured no that all his limbs were in working order, Sir Charles turned his focus elsewhere.

While being a giant, winged lizard, impervious to all but the strongest of blows had its advantages - nearly everything, really - it did have a few downsides: most notably the lack of breasts. As her knight's mouth found one of her pert nipples, Elizabeth was reminded that her human form did not share this concern. Startled by the sudden sensation of his licking and biting, the dragoness let out a sharp hiss of breath, back arching upwards in response to the welcome stimulation. Not wishing her other breast to feel left-out, she reached her hand up to cup it from the under side, tracing her thumb and forefinger around her soft, pink areola and slowly tweaking her nipple. She gasped and shuttered slightly as she felt herself moisten, adding a dash of humanity to the sea of arousal they both still lay in. Re-positioning her hips over her lover's groin, she began to slowly rock, dragging her cleft back and forth over his shaft, wetting it lightly with her arousal. At the nadir of every rolling motion, she stiffened slightly in pleasure as her clitoris rubbed softly against the base of his cock.

After some time of undulating slowly back and forth, she felt the knight's penis jump slightly, pushing up between her lips. Deciding that the time was right, Elizabeth raised her hips, setting herself down upon hit tip, letting it gently part her outer lips. Their combined twitches and rocking pushed his head in and out, slowly rubbing her outermost folds.

Not content to just lay there and be teased, Charles grabbed his mate's hips, squeezing hard-enough to elicit a squeaking sound from the dragon. With a firm grip, the knight pulled her down with force, driving himself all the way to the hilt inside her. The shock of sudden entry left them both momentarily transfixed, but it did not take long to begin a new, quickly establishing a steady rhythm of thrusts. The knight's hands and mouth continued to play at his lover's breasts, kneading them softly while sucking and nipping at her buds. The knight continued his thrusting, the dragon's increasingly sharp moans egging him on to pump faster.

Sensing the knight's intent, Elizabeth leaned down, forcing her breasts into her lover's chest, rubbing her nipples against his ribs as she ground back and forth against him. Her clitoris was now in almost continual contact with the paladin, scraping against him as they moved against each other. She closed her eyes in anticipation, feeling the heat build as she was overwhelmed with pleasure. Her moans transformed into a single, drawn-out cry as she felt the feelings in her loins spread through the rest of the body. However, right as she was about to pass the point of no return, she felt herself moving. In one motion, she found herself on her back, floor still soaked in the remnants of her last orgasm. Within moments, the knight resumed his motions, thrusting down into her from above, one hand still playing with her breasts while the other held him above her.

Excited by the sudden change of perspective, the dragoness pulled her lover's face down and crudely mashed her own lips against his. Any attempts at romance or technique were thrown out the window immediately, the pace of their copulation and the pleasure spreading through her prevented their kiss from being anything more than an imitation of the action below, the knight's tongue pushing against hers and reaching as deeply as it could, prodding at the insides of her mouth. It only took a few thrusts for the pleasure to return and surpass the sensation from when she was on top. Again, Elizabeth felt herself approach the point of no return, her cries stopped short by the invading tongue. Her back arched as she tried in vain to force her lover even deeper inside of her. Feeling the end nearing, the dragoness pulled her legs up, wrapping them around the knight's back and pulling him with all her strength into her wet folds and holding him tight as her orgasm hit her.