FSE

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It was pure happenstance that Sir Oswald found the cavern. He had been on the worn road between villages when he saw it: the gaping, open mouth of a cavern not too far away from the side of the trail. Normally, he would not have thought twice about entering such an opening for fear of bears and bandits both, but even from outside he could see something glimmering off the walls; not fire, but something shiny. He stared and wiped his eyes, and yet still the dark chasm glimmered gold. Sure that he was not just seeing things, he stepped off the road and began to make his way towards the cave, curious for what it might hold. While the glimmering ruled out neither bears nor bandits, but made the former highly unlikely, he supposed whatever inside was worth the risk of at least an initial entry. If anything stirred, he could just run. He was a warrior and a knight, yes, but he believed that a battle without death or injury on his side was still a battle won. Facing an opponent, escaping them, and outliving them into old age was a valid strategy, even if the rest of his order, the Order, disagreed. It was, he supposed, why he was one of the more senior among them.

He took one step into the cave and froze, listening for anything, but there was no sound save his own short breaths. He shrugged and then made his way into the cave, marveling at how the walls shined. It was truly a sight to see, and he wondered what it was made of. Gems, uncut and unfound? It hardly seemed likely considering how close the cavern was to the road. Gold was out for much the same reason, and so were many other riches. Then what? Magic, an enchantment or glamour? He hoped not, because such things were always more trouble than they were worth. Perhaps some creature then, something with scales that shimmered and shined? A dragon? He shivered and put his hand on his sword, all too aware that such a weapon wouldn't do much. Maybe he should turn back now, before he really did come across a sleeping dragon, or worse, one that had already smelled him and was awaiting him with jaws spread wide. He considered this for a moment, then shrugged and continued on, turning a corner in the cavern's twisting path to find what was causing the glow.

As it turned out, it was a combination of a number of things that caused the shimmering glow. Oswald stopped and gaped as he saw that there were indeed gems in this large circular portion of the cavern, cut gems too, along with gold and silver, trinkets and baubles, some of them shining with their own light. The riches were all heaped in a large pile that stretched from one side of the room to the other and brought the word hoard to mind, which brought thoughts back of what sorts of creatures kept hoards, especially such obvious ones that would otherwise be easy pickings.

Oswald shuffled back, hand going to the hilt of his sword as he looked around for any sign of such a creature. He didn't smell smoke or see any discarded scales, there were no claw marks upon the walls or floors, and the stone was intact, not marred or half melted by molten breath. There was a flat cliff face near the back of the cavern that could led elsewhere and could conceivably serve as a perch, but there was nothing there, not a single gem or coin or creature. It seemed there was no reason to worry after all.

Realizing that he had been holding his breath, Oswald let it out. He took a step back--and yelped as he bumped into something. He yelled again, spinning around and drawing his sword in one fluid motion to find a chromatic draconic visage staring down at him, the green eyes wide and inquisitive.

He stared, eyes quickly going over the body of the creature far larger than he and, although he was frightened, he couldn't help but appreciate how the dragon's scales shone in differing shades of chromatic colors. Though he had seen dragons before, they had been in two types: those on two legs that walked and talked much like a man and the females had other...human characteristics. All in all, they were no less narcissistic than their larger kin, though at least far less dangerous. Then there were the dragons seen in paintings and pictures, majestic and fearsome and something Oswald had never intended to actually confront.

"Now this is interesting," the dragon said, its voice higher than Oswald would have thought, though his mind was far more concerned with how sharp those dagger-like teeth looked. "Who might you be?"

"O-Oswald," Oswald squeaked.

"Oh? Hmm..." the dragon lowered its head, and Oswald backed up, holding up his sword, gulping as the dragon's eyes glimmered. "I suppose it's fitting. You are rather boring."

"Boring!" Oswald said, indignant, if only momentarily. "I...I'm..."

"Yes?" The dragon's head turned and its tongue flicked out. "Go on."

"Uh...well..." Oswald gulped. "I'm Sir Oswald of the Order."

"Oh?" the dragon frowned. "That's it?"

Oswald's face flushed, but he wasn't sure what to say to the questioning creature.

"A visitor is always interesting, but you aren't an interesting visitor. Why..." the dragon chuckled. "My last visitor was one of my kin. Well, not related to me, but a dragon, you know?"

Oswald nodded, because it seemed to be the polite thing to do.

"He came to take from my hoard, and when I caught him in the act, do you know what he wanted to do?"

"Uh..." Oswald shook his head. "No?"

"He wanted to fight me. Can you believe that?" The dragon snorted and some smoke spewed from its nostrils. "Needless to say, this young drake was no match for me."

"You...you killed him?" Oswald asked, before realizing he was still brandishing his weapon. He quickly sheathed it as the dragon shook its head and laughed, still staring forward in thought.

"Of course not! I merely altered him appropriately. He was too...aggressive, so I took some of the fight out of him, channeled that aggression towards other things...productive things." The dragon smiled, its eyes glimmering golden momentarily. Oswald nodded along, but began to creep away from the dragon. "She was such a pretty dragoness when I was through with her, I'm sure it did her good. Last I heard, she had her first clutch laid and was looking for her second. So much more motherly, don't you agree?"

The dragon looked back down at Oswald, and he stood stock still.

"Quite right," he murmured, unable to meet the dragon's eyes.

"And so agreeable too! But that's not exciting. No, anyone can say yes. You are too uninteresting!" The dragon snorted and cocked its head at Oswald. It narrowed its eyes. "Were you trying to leave?"

"N-no!" Oswald sputtered.

"And a bit of a liar too. Hmm a shame..." The dragon suddenly chortled, its eyes again friendly (or friendlier) with a smile across its snout. "But of course, you're a bit afraid of me, not that I blame you. Why, you're almost like a...but no, that wouldn't be fair."

Oswald was silent, not sure what to say or do.

"I apologize," the dragon said. "Let's start this right. I'm...well, you wouldn't be able to say my name, but I'm a dragoness, a lady dragon, and this is my hoard. Well, one of a few, I like to keep them in different places because there's nothing quite like traveling, right?"

"Sure?" Oswald said.

"Ah, now there's some uncertainty. I quite like that. It's interesting. If everything is known...well, what would life be?" The dragoness scratched her scaly chin. "But uncertainty isn't enough for interest and...well, Oswald, you're quite uninteresting." She peered at him, eyes gleaming mischievously. "You're a knight, right?"

Oswald nodded.

"Then you should have some sense of honor. Maybe that's why you didn't take anything? Or maybe I didn't give you enough time. Maybe I should have waited, seen what you'd done, but,you're so fearful... So much like...but oh, that wouldn't be fair."

"Like what?" Oswald asked, frightened yet curious.

"Like a damsel in distress," the dragoness stated matter of factly.

"Balderdash!" Oswald replied. "I'm a man, a knight!"

"So?" The dragoness's eyes glimmered mischievously. "That can all be altered and much more besides."

"You cannot!"

The dragoness frowned. "But of course I can. Weren't you listening to me earlier about that drake that I turned into a dragoness? It was simple enough, but the revisions in reality...that was something else, but well worth it. She hardly remembers being male now, and if you asked her parents, why, they would probably insist she was always their lovely daughter."

Oswald shivered as he felt a chill run down his spine. He felt like a mouse in front of a cat with no obvious appetite.

"Of course, I'm not callous. It was in my defense and for her betterment. Not my first case either. I'm working on one now, a whelpling that lost his way. Well, he's human, like you, but he seems set on a dangerous life, and I as his godmother know best. He got bruised, the poor dearie, fighting over nothing. Soon she'll never suffer a wound again even with those soft scales." The dragoness sighed and smiled. "She'll make a wonderful queen." The dragoness looked back to Oswald, and the knight shivered again. "So, Sir Oswald. What will it be?"

"What do you mean?" he murmured.

"Oh come on, Oswald. I know you're scared, not dim. I'm going to improve this situation, yes? I can't let you leave here being so distressingly boring. What even would you do if I just let you go?"

"I would never speak of this cave or your hoard or you!" Oswald promised quickly. "I swear!"

"That's no fun," the dragoness said with a pout, before smiling toothily. "Let's have some fun then, yes?"

Oswald was going to shake his head, but thought better of it. He wasn't sure it was a good idea to tell a dragon no, no matter the circumstances. It was bad enough that he had already lied. The dragoness didn't seem to notice, drooping her head down so she was face to face with the worried knight.

"What do you desire, hmm? You haven't taken anything from me, so think of this as your reward. You shan't leave here until you've received my gift, which, of course, while it's up to you..." the dragoness's eyes glimmered. "I do know best."

"I don't want anything," Oswald said.

"Lying again!" The dragoness shook her head sadly. "Everyone wants something. Oh, Oswald, what is it for you?" She poked Oswald's armor with her snout and the knight stepped back. "Your armor seems thin, almost as thin as your skin. Don't you want a better set, and a little more besides?"

"I..." Oswald gulped. "I suppose so?"

The dragoness nodded, and her eyes briefly glowed gold. Oswald flinched and looked down at his armor expectantly. He expected it to shimmer and become a little less rusted, a little shinier, but instead it was his skin that itched. He winced and scratched at his neck, and this provided as much relief as distress as he felt something tough and leathery instead of skin on his finger and neck both. He gulped and held his hands in front of his face to see that blue scales were subsuming his skin and hair even as his nails twisted into hardy claws.

"But..." he looked up at the dragoness who stared down at him with a doting smile. "I said armor, not--"

"Skin?" The dragoness said, still smiling. "I asked if you wanted a better set and referenced skin last. The tail, the wings, the snout -- why, they were a little more besides." She winked. "More than a little, because I'm quite generous. Or weren't you paying attention?"

Oswald blinked. Was that how it had went? He opened his mouth protests lost as his face pressed forward, surging into a draconic snout, his nose reduced to two slits at the end of his muzzle. He coughed, and some smoke spiraled out of those flaring slits, his tongue stretching and thinning, the end forking as his teeth ached and sharpened into fine points. He groaned and brought his hands to his head as it ached too, clumps of hair falling down past his eyes as two protrusions pressed out from his skull. He panted and hissed as his nascent horns pushed his helmet off his head and to the ground with a clatter while his ear thinned, now gracefully pointed and scaled.

Oswald's eyes watered. He forced them shut, hissing as the itching got even worse. He clawed at his armor, but it did a good job at protecting him from himself even as skin became scale. Abruptly, he bent over double, toes turned talons scratching at the inside of his boots while something tugged up above his rear. He panted and growled, wincing and wiggling his hips around as a new appendage pulled out inch by inch, but it had nowhere to go, confined within his armor. Oswald shifted uncomfortably as it slinked down the right side of his breeches. It wiggled there, and he stiffened as he realized that he was in control of its movement.

Positive he could not get any more uncomfortable, Oswald was proven wrong when his shoulder blades twinged, and he felt something sprout from them: two new thinly scaled additional appendages that feebly flapped ,against his armor. He groaned and blinked as his eyes stopped watering in that moment. He didn't feel as if his vision were improved, but it had certainly changed, his snout crept into his vision but felt no more intrusive than his nose had been. He had other things in mind, however, and that was because his scales itched, not due to another shift, but because they rubbed irritatingly against their metallic confines. He hissed and shivered, looking up at the dragoness pleadingly.

"What?" she inquired. "Not the sort for scales?"

"Too..." Oswald hissed, clawing at his constraining armor as his muscular tail wiggled distractingly in his breeches. His voice was mostly the same, though growing raspier. "Too rough."

"Oh, it is?" The dragoness purred. "Softer more your style?"

Oswald didn't totally agree, but he acquiesced enough to nod. The dragon's grin widened.

"I knew it!" She crowed merrily. "Let's get you there!"

The dragoness' eyes glimmered gold, and this time there was immediate feedback. Oswald shivered, and his scales stopped rubbing so roughly and maddeningly insistent against his armor. He sighed in relief, but his calm was quickly cut off as his vision suddenly lowered and his armor felt almost too big rather than too tight. His eyes widened as his snout bounced off the neck-guard of his chest piece.

He was shrinking!

"Hey!" he shouted, or started to shout, wanting to say more until he heard the sound of his voice. It was softer even beneath the breathy hissing, but that wasn't the only thing becoming softer. His scales still rubbed against the armor, and yet they felt more sensitive somehow. However, more concerning,, was how his nipples felt brushing against the cool metal interior. They were stiff and hard and surprisingly sensitive, sending an electric tingle all the way down to his groin. His penis stiffened, and he shivered again, snout scales flushing a deeper blue. He looked up to the dragoness, ashamed -- except his shame became unease as his member began to soften. Not just soften, but shrink as it sunk into him even as the soft, scaled flesh beneath his nipples swelled into rounded mounds. Involuntarily, he moaned as his burgeoning breasts pressed against the metal, his stiff nipples send sensations both painful and pleasurable as they rubbed up and down from the bouncing of his bust.

"Oh!" The dragoness said. "You do like it after all! I was right!"

Oswald whimpered, actually whimpered as he felt the rest of his masculinity pull into himself with a . . . . it was oddly sensual, bucking hips that cracked and pulled apart as his manhood slid back into a freshly formed opening that happily accepted it. It felt as if he was penetrating himself, and for a moment he couldn't help but indulge in the surreal pleasure even as his constrained breasts ached and his form was resculpted softer and smoother, horns shrinking away as roseate frills formed on the side of his head near his ears before his rear rounded out, plump cheeks pressing against the back of his breeches.

Then the moment ended, his manhood no more, his feminine folds parted and ready for something more, and his clit erect and throbbing. Without thinking, he moaned again and then clamped a clawed hand over his snout. Even his claws felt softer, and he pulled his hand away to see that his blue scales were indeed softer, and they seemed to shimmer, almost as if they had been polished. In addition, his claws were painted pastel pink. Oswald blinked, then wiggled around in his suit as he attempted and failed to position the softly scaled mounds in their closed confines. He looked to the dragoness again in distress.

"Something wrong?" The dragoness asked. "You are softer now, aren't you?"

"Y-yes..." Oswald said. "But the armor, it's--"

"Too tough?" The dragoness's eyes twinkled. "But you seem to be enjoying it. Are you saying you'd be like to be better dressed?"

"Yes!" Oswald pleaded, moaning. It was hard to think in his current predicament, and anything that would get him out of couldn't be bad ... right? "Please..."

The dragoness nodded knowingly, and her eyes glimmered again. Oswald closed his own eyes, pointed ears and tail twitching in anticipation, before he realized his mistake. He opened his eyes and looked up to the dragoness.

"Wait!" He said. "Don't--"

But it was too late. His armor shimmered, though his sword and scabbard oddly remained attached to his side. For a moment, his armor was oddly there and not there, allowing him to see his body for what it had become. He was, unsurprisingly, covered in smooth, blue scales from head to taloned feet, and they too looked polished to a lustrous shine. His frame was mostly humanoid and undoubtedly feminine, his hips wide, his waist pinched in, and his limbs slender and lacking the muscle he had worked so hard for.

He shifted uncomfortably and felt his nonexistent armor rattle, though he could still feel its cold, constraining embrace on his cramped wings and breasts. Yes, his breasts, for that's what those full, smoothly scaled mounds were with their pink, stiff nipples. At the moment, they were squished together, but he looked past them to confirm that he was no longer male, the slit and clit between his thicker thighs looking plump and glistening, flushed and ready.

Then he lost sight of his naked form as his armor reformed,. It glowed a pure white and began to split apart into luminous, floating motes of light that left him naked in moments. This time, he was actually nude, and despite himself he let out a sigh of relief as his breasts bounced free, his wings unfurling to flap behind him, their span such a small size they could be nothing other than vestigial ornamentation. He sighed as his tail uncoiled from around his leg to sway this way and that. He looked over a slim, scaled shoulder and past his wings at his tail, tracing its point of origin just above his rounded rear and over its polished blue length until he saw its spade-shaped tip.

He drew his eyes away from his tail and meant to look forward until he caught sight of those white motes gathering over his behind. He watched in bewilderment as they formed together into pinkish cloth that began to wrap its way comfortably tight against his plump, rounded rear. He then turned his gaze to the front and saw the same thing happening at his crotch, the white motes joining with the cloth behind and fashioning themselves into a pair of panties that no longer left him exposed. Still, he couldn't help but blush from wearing something so feminine, the coloration and flatness of his crotch showing any would be onlooker to see that he was certainly a woman, or a rather, a dragoness.

But wasn't he?

Oswald shook his head and growled, reaching down to yank off those panties when more white motes floated over to embrace his claws. He jerked his hands away from his crotch and tried to pull the sparkling substance away, but they stubbornly remained, forming into silken silver gloves that looked quite nice on his daintily clawed hands. He admired them, but only for a moment before he realized what he was doing.

He looked up to the dragoness, but she was merely looking at him with those same mischievous eyes. He felt anger rise in his chest at the sight of that gaze that could only be mocking him, and smoke began to pour out of his nostrils. Instinctively, he reached for his sword and drew it, flourishing it dramatically and hissing as his breasts bounced from his movement. He looked down and was a little relieved to see the motes starting to form some sort of support for his bust. He hoped whatever his dress allowed an onlooker a view of his chest, maybe even a little cleavage, because then--

He snarled and shook his head before shakily pointing his sword at the dragoness. She didn't even blink, but he didn't care.

"Stop this!" he demanded in a voice shriller than he wished. How else should it sound, though?

"Stop what?" the dragoness murmured. "Still too rough?"

"No!" Oswald shouted. "It's wrong. It's all wrong. I'm a man, a knight, and I don't wear panties!"

"Are you sure?" the dragoness asked, smiling. "Seems like you're wearing some now. Unless..." she winked conspiratorially. "You mean you normally don't? I can make that arrangement."

"No!" Oswald shouted again, facial scales hot, hazy smoke still pouring out of his nostrils so that it was a little hard to see the dragoness. His breasts had mostly ceased to jiggle because of his bra, but that was hardly a relief when he shouldn't even have breasts in the first place.

"No?" the dragoness said. "You seem so confused, dearie. What do you really want?"

Oswald paused, glancing down momentarily to see the motes had started to form over his chest into a form fitting grey dress. He lost his train of thought as he admired the synergy between the two colors, the polish of his blue scales and the soft grey fabric not clashing at all. Why if--

He took a deep breath. What did he want? He snarled and turned his attention back to the dragoness, thrusting the sword back towards her even as his arm began to shake. This sword was so heavy! What was he doing wielding one anyways? It didn't match the rest of his outfit!

"I suppose I can understand it," the dragoness said. "I certainly don't wear anything, but...well, I'm a real dragon. You're quite cute, dearie, but it's not really proper to go around naked in this part of the world. Although..." The dragoness's tongue flicked out. "We could arrange something. You could be a dirtier sort of damsel..."

Oswald's ears twitched as the words sank straight into his mind and with them a flood of lurid images. He saw himself, a dragoness, primped and preened, eyes brushed with exotic inks, arms and legs bare and scales shining even more than now, his outfit revealing generous cleavage, his breasts pushed up prominently while his dress was low cut, and beneath it he wasn't wearing any panties, so he would be ready at a moment's notice to meet his client's demands, and was that so wrong? Sex sold, and she was her own dragoness, not counting what happened in the whorehouse or the lord's chambers for her private visits, which were her favorite. Why, what she wouldn't give to be in his place now, bent over, breasts pressed into the silken sheets while she lifted her tail, exposing her slick, ready sex and--

Oswald shivered, and he stepped back from the dragon, swapping the sword to his other arm. He hissed and shook the other one. It was so sore, and he had held the weapon for a only couple minutes at most. Still, it was better to focus on aching arm than the thoughts of him...her ready for some well paid fun so that--

"No!" Oswald said and stabbed the sword up at the dragoness. It hit her neck and bounced off, the impact so jarring that Oswald couldn't help but drop the sword. It fell to the ground with a series of clattering rings, and he stooped down to pick it up just as a skirt formed down over his knees. His tail pushed it up slightly, bringing back those thoughts again even as a hole formed for the tail and a nice silk sleeve over it. Still reaching for his sword, he looked over his shoulder and saw a pink ribbon tie itself over the end of his tail.

"Now that was uncalled for," the dragoness said. "A lady striking another lady with a weapon. Tsk, tsk. Who taught you that?"

"The Order..." Oswald hissed, turning his attention back to his sword. Awkwardly, he gripped it in his gloved hands just as he heard a series of metallic pings, feeling multiple things slide onto his fingers. The sword slipped out of his grip as he saw there there were gaudy rings on his claws now, two on his left hand and three on his right. They were pretty and entracing, the bands each a different chromatic color that glittered and shined. He might have kept on staring at them had his sword not reminded him of its fall with a clangerous rattle. As his sword hit the floor with a sharp ring, he meant to swear but instead he gasped and brought one clawed hand to his snout.

"The order? What sort of order?" the dragoness asked while he stared at the sword. "Nuns?"

"No..." Oswald rejected the idea, reaching out for the sword and then pulling his hands away. He pouted as he saw he had already dirtied one of his gloves and one of his rings had nearly slipped off. Why was he scrabbling in the dirt for some pointed piece of metal? It was hardly dignified, and certainly didn't match his attire.

"No? Then what? No proper lady would do strike another, least of all with a weapon. You are a proper lady, yes?"

Oswald looked up at the pestering dragoness, wings flapping gently behind him.

"Yes," he said, then blinked. "I mean--"

"I think you know exactly what you mean," the dragoness smirked. "You are a lady, aren't you? Not quite proper, but getting there."

"I'm not a lady!" Oswald shrieked, still staring at the dragoness as he leaned forward and grabbed the sword in both hands. He stood up and found himself surprisingly comfortable , the bra keeping his breasts in place, the panties warm and snug, and the dress not too tight or restrictive. Snarling, he raised the sword up and found that he was not holding a sword at all, but a silver locket on a chain. He jerked back and dropped the locket, stepping back and staring at it as the dragoness dipped her head down and picked it up delicately between her jaws.

"A gift, for me?" the dragoness said, dropping it into her claws. "How thoughtful! Quite a pleasant gift from a pleasant lady."

"But..." Oswald stepped back, wings folding against each other and tail twitching pensively behind him. "I..."

"My thanks to you," the dragoness said, dipping her head while still looking at the retreating smaller dragoness. "And my apologies." The dragoness blinked her eyes and smiled apologetically. "I seem to have misplaced your name. You are Lady--"

The dragoness stared at Oswald expectantly, and he froze. He tittered nervously and was halfway into a curtsy before he stopped himself.

"Oswald," he growled fiercely, standing up straight though he now felt even smaller.

"Oswald?" The dragoness said the word slowly, as if tasting it. She shook her head. "No, no. That can't be it. That was some other, uninteresting individual, and you, dearie, are not uninteresting." The dragoness's eyes lit up. "Just look at that dress! It complements your scales so nicely!"

"Why, thank you!" Oswald said, then frowned. She...he shook his head. "Stop that!"

"Stop what?" The dragoness tilted her head. "You don't like compliments? Shame! I was hoping you would tell me who does your scales! They're so shiny!"

"I--" Oswald began, before catching sight of her own scales. The dragoness was right. They were so shiny and so smooth, and yet Oswald had difficulty remembering who had helped her with them. Maybe...could she have...

Could she have done them herself?

"Oh!" the dragoness giggled. "Was it that order you were talking about?"

Order? The word brought up images up knights and stern men in armor, but that didn't make much sense. Why would she and this other dragoness be talking about mean men that had some irrational fear against dragonkind? Her kind? Why, she was no less a lady than any human woman, even if she had claws, a tail, and sometimes a spurt of fire here and there. The men seemed to appreciate it, at least those that weren't in this order. But then what order did the dragoness mean?

Unless...wasn't she a knight? Is that what the dragoness meant? But she clearly wasn't a knight, and yet--

Oswald hissed, not liking where this was going and not liking that name either. What did Oswald even mean? It didn't mean her, that was for sure.

"Pardon me, milady," she faltered. "I'm not sure what you mean."

The dragoness blinked and looked surprised for once. Then she smiled and lowered her head to the other dragoness' level.

"Well, I'm not either," the dragoness said, smiling deepening with each word. "You tell me what you mean, dearie. You mentioned this order first. Surely you know, yes?"

"No..." the other dragoness groaned and rubbed at her head. She took a step back and then fell onto her well rounded rump. "I don't, it's...knights? Men? Swords?"

Her eyes widened at the thought of swords and for some reason her claws immediately went to her crotch. Through her skirt, she felt her panties and her puffy feminine lips beneath them--but of course. What else would be there?

She heard the dragoness clear her throat, and she looked up, face flush, to find the dragoness looking away.

"Oh!" she said. "I'm so sorry, I--"

She blinked as she caught sight of the locket in the dragoness's claws. It mattered so much to her, and she wasn't sure why. It certainly wasn't a sword. It was merely a pretty piece of jewelry, a gift she had given to the dragoness because...well, it was the proper thing to do when visiting another lady's lair, right? Except...

Except most ladies didn't have lairs. Except most ladies weren't several times larger than other ladies. She was much more a lady than the dragoness except...

Except she herself wasn't a lady.

But then, what was she? She looked down at herself. She was a dragon, yes, more specifically a dragoness, with smooth, shining blue scales that was mostly covered by a silvery-grey dress and a tail tied with a bow swaying behind her with the uncertainty of her mind. She had a woman's figure and bust, and wasn't that part of being a lady? Or was that just conforming to--

She shook her head and slowly got to her feet, talons clacking against the the ground. She dusted off her dress, pouting that she had dirtied it before mentally berating herself for being upset about that, because there were more important things to worry about. But weren't her clothes pretty important? Appearance was paramount, and if she looked like a harlot, then what would men think of her? Her heat might be frequent and deep, a fault of her fiery, yet subdued manner, but it didn't mean she had to be like any easy dragoness, the type that worked in the whorehouse.

Whorehouse...

She shivered as images came unbidden to her in her mind, of her in such provocative dress and promiscuous positions that she would never agree to. Not that there was anything wrong with showing a man a good time: letting him run his rough hands over her smooth scales and cup and fondle her breasts, to tease the tip of her tail, to let him take her, a strong heroic man who--

Man? She rubbed at her snout, trying to pull her mind away from how warm she felt under her dress and also...other conflicting thoughts. Like men, and definitely not women. Why would it be women? She enjoyed the company of other ladies, but pleasant tea time, scale polishing, and ladylike gossip was nothing compared to the strong, muscle bound courageous men that would treat her with kindness and courtesy, and she would repay them in kind...and a little more beside. Not that she was a slut. No, not at all, because she was a proper dragoness, not a prostitute or knight and certainly not an Oswald. That was a boring name anyways, and it certainly wasn't hers. Hers was...

What was it again?

Her mind went through the womanly names that she knew. For most of them, there were faces associated with them and feelings that seemed strange, lust and arousal, but hard and stiff instead of warm and glowing. It was so...mannish that she immediately discarded these names and was left with so few.

Orvo? Too simple.

Fleurtje? She wasn't even sure how to say that even within her mental confines.

Merel? That sounded nice. That sounded familiar, and close enough was good enough. Better that she have a name in mind than think of herself as some sort of Oswald. She shivered, finding the name offendingly banal.

"Figured it out, dearie?"

Merel looked up and froze. There was a dragon standing over her, a dragoness, and while she was kin in a way, she seemed so large, so threatening, so imposing even if her eyes glittered with benevolent mischief, but mischief was never good, right? The dragoness smiled toothily, and what teeth she had! Merel knew she had been talking to the dragoness for...well, some length of time, but even her muddled mind could recall the distress in the conversation. Her distress, and what other reason would the dragoness be looking so predatorily at her? What was she doing in this lair anyways, so far from home and safety and the Order-

The Order! Her eyes opened wide. Of course! She was a lady of the Order, and they protected her for it. But something had gone wrong, had to have gone wrong, because why else was she held captive by a dragon, a poor damsel in distress forced to endure hours of questioning and implications that she, in fact, was not a lady? That would explain all those lewd images in her mind, acts she just wouldn't do! Well...she shivered. Not just with any man. Maybe her noble rescuer...

"Dearie?"

Merel blinked and then hissed at the dragoness.

"Let me go, foul dragon!" she said, then motioned towards the hoard. "I'm not one of your trinkets!"

"Of course you aren't," the dragoness chuckled. "Though you are quite beautiful. Ido know best, after all."

"Harlot!" Merel shouted. "Do not attempt your advances on me! I'm holding out for him, and he will come!"

"Oh?" the dragoness tilted her head. "Who will?"

"I...uh..." Merel stood up straight, pressing her chest out proudly. "The Order! The knight of the Order! He's on his way, and when he gets here...you may want to leave now, release me before it's too late for you!"

"Oh dear!" the dragoness said, clutching at her snout. "A noble knight come to kill me? Oh my! I wouldn't know how to deal with one. Maybe I should let you go. This knight sounds too much for me!"

"He is!" Merel said, sighing softly as she imagined him in her mind, a strong, noble knight indeed with a mighty sword that hung on his side and another that hung between...

Merel blushed deeply, her heart fluttering as she felt her nethers slicken. She brought her arms over her chest, hoping he would come soon, especially so deep into her cycle. They could have eggs together.

Eggs!

She shivered again, lost in her imagination until she heard the dragoness chuckle. She looked back to the beast and frowned at her kin who was so like her and yet unlike her. It was unladylike to give anyone such an ugly expression, but dragons and other beasts that knew no manners were an exception.

"Maybe I dug too deep," the dragoness murmured, her eyes gleaming. "You're really into him, aren't you? I didn't even put him in your mind. That hunk, that hero...he's all yours, dearie." She grinned. "In your mind, of course. Or...maybe he is out there after all."

She snorted and Merel's frown deepened. She even glared, and she had been taught to never stare!

"My mind?" Merel ran a clawed hand over her the soft scales of her snout as she looked past the dragoness. "No, he's out there somewhere, and he's coming." She shivered, wings gently flapping behind her. "Coming for me..."

"Oh," the dragoness snickered with a small spout of flame. "Now that would be most interesting. Is he really?"

"You doubt me?" Merel sniffed, soft smoke trailing out of her snout as she folded her arms under her breasts. "You doubt him?"

"Oh no, no," the dragoness said. "Not at all. I think you're right!" She awkwardly stepped to the side and pointed to the exit. "Go. I daren't face him. Not him and his mighty sword!"

The word almost made Merel shiver again, but she kept her composure. She snarled at the dragoness and took a tentative step towards her. Was this a trick? Her heart beat fast and hard and she began to feel lightheaded. Oh, if only her hero was here!

"Well, what are you waiting for, my interesting little lady?" the dragoness asked. "You're free, dearie."

Merel didn't answer the dragoness, instead starting to run in response. Or at least ran with her dress held up as ladies were wont to do--she usually left that to the men and the Order.

So Merel fled, and the dragon indeed did let her by. The dragoness in distress continued to run even then, her tail flagging behind her with the ribbon near its tip loosening, but she didn't stop because she saw something standing at the end--a man shaped figure standing in armor that gleamed in the sunlight. She nearly fainted there, but kept herself on her talons, transitioning to a fast walk as she neared her hero. As she came closer, she took the sight of him in, and it didn't quite match the image in her mind. He was strong, yes, obviously had to be to wear that heavy armor, but he was also a little portly and his sideburn laden beard made him a little less than handsome, yet he did carry a mighty sword and...she sniffed. He smelled virile enough, even if he wasn't exactly young. Still, despite the inconsistencies, he stood proud and noble even if he wore a confused expression on his face that she figured was the sun getting in his eyes and preventing him from seeing her and her beauty.

He still looked confused when she stood in front of him, and yet as she collapsed into him, she still found a place in his arms. She sobbed, and he awkwardly rubbed at the back of her head.

"My hero!" she cried, her wings beating with joy.

"Um, sure," her hero said. "And you are...?"

"So coy!" Merel giggled. "I missed you, goodsir! I knew you would come for me!"

Her hero raised an eyebrow but hugged her back.

"It's pretty shiny in there, huh? Is this your hoard?" he asked. "Wonder what I might find!"

"Don't go!" Merel sobbed. "I couldn't bear to lose you. The dragon in there is a beast. She wouldn't hesitate to harm you. She..." Merel sobbed again. "She dirtied my dress and implied I was a whore. Let us away from here, sir knight of the Order!"

"Order?" Her hero lifted his other eyebrow. "I'm just a merc, but call me what you want, honey."

"I knew it was you!" Merel said, clinging to him. "I knew it the moment I saw you! You saved me!"

"I did? I mean, of course I did. Really I was interested in the glow but, uh, you glow too, huh? Do you polish your scales?"

"You noticed!" Merel squealed.

"Kind of hard not to..."

Merel pulled away and looked deeply into her savior's eyes. She hissed and flicked her tongue out. He jerked back, but they were too close that it was impossible for her not to lick his face.

"I owe you, goodsir," Merel hissed, smoke pouring out of her nostrils as she pressed herself back against him suggestively.

"You do?"

"Yes..." Merel purred, flicking and licking him again, this time at his ear. "I owe you so much. How can I ever repay you?"

"Well, if you can polish your scales so well, my armor is a little rusty, I must admit. Would you mind?" He patted his sword. "Weapon could use some work too. Used to have a squire but--"

Merel growled and squeezed at his loins. Her hero squirmed, red faced.

"I can polish more than that..."

"Oh." He blinked. "Oh. I mean, if you insist..."

And Merel did indeed insist.