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Some of the other knights might have called it a degrading assignment, but Tristan tried not to think of it that way. He was being tested. If he grumbled and complained about patrolling the outskirts and farmhouses, then his superiors would know he lacked the discipline needed to properly climb the ranks. And besides, it was entirely possible that someone out there would need his help. The poor were often left at the mercy of beasts, bandits, and worse, and his order turned a blind eye to it time and again, even when they claimed to stand for the very virtues that would demand they intervene when anyone was in danger, no matter how meagre their means might be. But that hardly meant a tidy donation to the coffers. Hmm, maybe he was grumbling, but only to himself, as he trudged down the dirt roads between the modest hut and small log homes carrying his torch, clanking with his every step. That was when he saw the body.

He couldn't tell if they were dead or simply incapacitated. Perhaps they were passed out drunk. The armoured brute was sprawled out on his back right in front of one of the larger homes on the outskirts of the city. Tristan knew it well, having gone on this same patrol so many times before. That building was a centre of operations for Tennock, one of the wealthier landowners in the city. He of course didn't dwell there during the night, preferring his private manor, but he conducted his business from there and kept it well-guarded during the night. The order frowned upon the presence of hired muscle like that, officially, but rarely enforced it. Regardless, there was still a man in need of help, and Tristan would have been abandoning his vows if he simply walked away from the scene of a possible crime.

A sigh of relief escaped him when he saw the figure stir on his approach. The guard didn't rise, but he showed signs of life, faintly groaning, and then oddly giggling. Tristan's theory of drunkenness seemed more and more likely as he approached and caught a whiff of something strong and fermented, though it certainly wasn't simple beer or wine. Maybe it was an exotic drink the mercenaries preferred, one powerful enough to know out even such a large, potent figure. Though that didn't seem right. The look on the huge lizard's face was one of total stupefaction, staring blankly up at the moonlit sky with an expression of utter wonder, as if he'd never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. Perhaps he'd been abusing some strange drug, possibly with magical properties. Or perhaps he'd been drugged. He was all ready to sniff around and get into detective mode, maybe even a little excited to be on the case, but it proved entirely unnecessary. The obvious culprit went ahead and showed herself.

She wasn't even trying to hide her shady nature. For one, she was a cat. A big dog like him knew all about the treacherous and mischievous ways of felines. Even the most upstanding citizens among them had a streak of trouble barely suppressed. And there she was, all dressed up in black leather with a hood up over her head, carrying a hefty sack of assuredly stolen goods as she crawled out the window right in front of an armed knight of the order. It seemed unlikely she didn't notice him. A nimble thing like her was surely aware of his presence, and she was soon looking right at him as he froze to the spot and shot her a look from afar. He didn't bother to touch the hilt of his blade. Instead, he folded his arms, glaring at her in the dark as the flames of his torch twinkled in her distant, glimmering eyes, looking for the most part like a disapproving father. The longer she looked at him, the more she grinned, flashing those long, curved fangs in the shadowy moonlight.

He wanted to say something to let her know she'd been caught, but without threatening her too much. Instead, he just found himself barking. He couldn't help the instinctual reaction. It wasn't even that she looked like a threat. Sure, she had daggers at her hips and probably all manner of hidden weapons in the pockets of her light, sneaky armour, and had clearly disabled the guards without any trouble, but he just had ... a feeling. He would have liked to talk to her about what she was doing, maybe even convinced her it was wrong and made her return what she had taken so they could forget the whole thing, but it was too late. His dobie voice rang in, ruffing into the night, and in an instant, she was gone. He hardly even saw her run. She seemed to simply vanish from his sight, leaving behind a little puff of black smoke like she was some sort of ninja or assassin. Though if she was, she probably wouldn't have bothered merely drugging the guards. Perhaps he was in danger. Perhaps she was harmless. But he wasn't going to let her get away until he got an explanation, at the very least. She might have been gone from his sight, but his nose told him exactly which direction she was headed. Her scent was distinct, warm, and altogether rather pleasant. But he couldn't let that distract him.

Though bursting in without warning was liable to get him a knife up between the armour plates, he thundered through a closed door and into a small farmhouse. It seemed abandoned at first glance. His torch flickered over the dusty entranceway, and the discarded scraps of lives once lived there. Moreover, there was no sign of her, at least not to his eyes. A sniff at the air told him she was near, that there was no more getting away, but she could have been hiding in any shadow, in any crevice. He braced himself for a possible ambush. It was entirely possible that this was his last night as a guard, if things went wrong. He was bigger than her, but one keen sneak attack could have been crippling. Instead, she stepped slowly from a shadowy hall and revealed herself in the moonlight through the broken window. This time, her grin was gone. Instead, she was wearing a tense, sincere expression. Her green eyes narrowed in the dark.

"I see. You think there is a promotion in store for you if you bring me in, do you?" she uttered. Her scorn for his order was clear from a single question.

"You are breaking the law," he explained simply, but went on. "I would like to know why."

That made her laugh. "Giving me the benefit of the doubt are you? You shouldn't. I am truly a scoundrel."

Tristan sniffed at that, which served well to give him another dose of her scent. It was enticing in such a way as he was slightly worried about being bewitched, perhaps ensorcelled by some sinister spell spoken subvocally while they stood in confrontation. Or maybe she just smelled nice. More importantly, that rush of air told him all about the contents of her sack of stolen goods. The jingle of coin was present, but so too was the smell of bread, meat, cheese, and other food. By the size of that bag, she'd stolen enough to feed a whole family. And she hardly looked starved herself, given the way her shape filled out that leather outfit so decadently. And he swore every time his eyes flitted to admire a particular curve, she moved in just the right, subtle way to emphasize it a little more, as if she knew. Narrowing his eyes, he cast a look of suspicion towards her - not because he suspected misdeeds, but rather unexpected benevolence.

"I will admit. I have not heard the nicest things about the owner of those stolen things. Families wind up begging on the streets for one missed payment, so I've seen. And if I am correct I would say that you didn't raid his larder because you were craving a midnight snack."

That made her perk up a little. Her eyes flashed with something. Curiosity, maybe? He had seemingly intrigued her in some way.

"Hm. Getting warm, doggy."

That she enunciated that with a certain seductive charm only distracted him briefly. He stayed focused on her to be sure she didn't bolt away again.

"So, would it be right to think you're out here committing crimes to prevent greater harm? I want to think that, anyway. Don't let me down."

Then she was smiling again.

"You put a lot of faith in me, lawdog. More than I deserve really. But maybe you aren't like the other knights."

This time it was Tristan's turn to chuckle.

"I am not as decorated as the other knights. Thus my patrol out here."

"Hm. So you haven't undergone the ritual yet. You've still got your ..."

He perked his ears and tipped his head at her when she trailed off mysteriously. The doggish reaction made her laugh out loud.

"I'm just joking with you. But still. You're a lot less indoctrinated than the other knights I've met. Though perhaps you still have the same weaknesses."

She swished her tail all about at him, producing a metallic rattling as she moved. He could only shake his head.

"You don't need to seduce me. I'm not interested in arresting you for something like this. I can tell you're helping out where you're needed, and you didn't kill anyone doing it. It also seems you were even somewhat modest with how much coin you took for yourself, by the sounds of it."

She shrugged. "Well. It might be charity work but I have needs too."

"Mhm." There was just a bit of judgment in his voice. "Do they know who's helping them?"

"Nope. Safer that way. They just find their pantries stocked come morning, and I'm long gone by then."

"So another break in," he huffed, though he was only teasing her right back.

"Look. I am very good at what I do."

"I'm sure. And then what? What happens when they're hungry the next day? And the next?"

The cat shrugged.

"I'm not sure. I'd hoped your order would deal with that." She spoke the word with particular disdain. "But after meeting some of them, I'd say injustice isn't exactly what they're fighting. More just ensuring hounds like Tennock stay fat and safe from those dirty, starving peasants. Uh, no offence."

"Some taken. But." Tristan drew up a big breath and sighed it out, his posture going from steady and regal to something more slumped. "You may be right. I joined in hopes of keeping people safe. But what good am I if the law says letting people go hungry is perfectly legal and feeding them is a crime?"

"Sounds like you should perhaps consider a change of profession, mister knight-dog." Mahiri said it with slight humour, though to keep him from thinking she was mocking him, she added in a compliment. "You are much more thoughtful than the other knights I have encountered."

"Hmm." Tristan had to think for a while. He folded his arms over his breastplate and drooped his ears. Such consideration meant he was hardly focusing on her, that she could have slipped away or made her attack at any moment, but such a thing never happened. She waited where she was. "Well. Say I believe you. I probably shouldn't keep you, then. Those people are waiting. But maybe you would appreciate an official escort to ensure you're not waylaid along the way."

This time it was her turn to fold her arms. He couldn't help but notice how such a simple gesture made her bust stick out all the more. "Sounds like an excuse to keep an eye on me. And what would all my criminal friends think, seeing me strolling around with someone like you?'

He arched a brow. "You have ... other friends around here?"

"Sir Dog, you must learn to know a joke when you hear one. Or maybe all the knight training sucked the humour out of you. Well, let's get moving then, holy man. I don't enjoy working in the glare of the sunrise."

The streets were quiet when they stepped out together. He trudged along, clanking and thumping, while she moved in utter silence. It wasn't just that her footsteps made no noise. She hardly even seemed to radiate a sense of presence, setting off none of his senses when she was beside him. It was the kind of thing that made him occasionally tense up, his muscles reflexively going tight as if he expected a solid backstab at any moment. But she was simply strolling along, sneaky as could be, showing him the way until she stopped him with a hand in front of his chest. They were still several steps away from the front door of a humble home, hardly more than a hut, but she'd apparently decided that was close enough.

"That will do. Any closer and your thundering about will wake them up. Just wait here."

"Do hurry," he urged.

He couldn't help but feel a slight trace of worry, standing there as an accomplice to what was still a crime, even if it was a well-intentioned one. She vanished in through an open window, seeming to simply cease to exist for those moments as she slipped into shadow and became nothing more than a lingering scent. A few moments later as she reemerged, sack considerably emptier than before, if not fully depleted. With a gesture, she guided him along to another home to repeat the process, and then another, moving in and out with the utmost of secrecy and stealth, working as if she'd broken into those homes dozens of times before. It had become a routine for her, it seemed. Or maybe she was just that good. Either way, she seemingly did precisely as she promised, leaving all that food behind for the poor families who dwelt there. If nothing else, he'd helped ensure that a few people didn't wake up hungry that coming morning. In a way, it was more than he'd managed to accomplish in all his years of patrolling and defending the city.

She returned to him with a smile of 'told you so' as if she'd won some great argument just by keeping her word. As for what happened to the coin, no doubt it was hidden somewhere on her person. He didn't question that, though it wasn't to say Tennock wouldn't miss it. Not because the wealthy baron had fallen on hard times. More, he was simply known for counting every single copper, and raising hell should any of them be out of place. His hired help learned quickly to come up with alibis, should anything go missing, whether or not they were responsible. But he could think about that later. Instead, he kept his eyes on that mysterious cat, watching her as she slowly swished there in the middle of the quiet dirt road, watching him right back.

"So? Is that good enough for you? Ready to let me off with a stern warning and the promise to never ever do any mean crimes again?"

She stuck her tongue out at him, but he wasn't provoked. Instead, he gave her a deeper look, one tinged slightly by the concern that it might be the last time he saw her. He wasn't sure exactly why, but the thought of that made him feel unusually sad.

"I don't suppose I could ask your name. Mine's Tristan, if you cared."

"Aha," she softly said, a whispered exclamation. "So that was your plan all along. Put me at ease with your doggish charm, and then interrogate me."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

She tapped her chin. "Hmm. I've gone by a lot of them by now. None of them real. But to you, let's see ... you can call me Mahiri."

He offered her a shamelessly boyish charm. "That's a nice name. Even if it isn't your real one."

"Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't."

They stood exchanging glances for a while, not saying anything more. Tristan shuffled his feet, she swung her tail, and her eyes never seemed to leave his. They were truly piercing, glowing in the dark, probably seeing so much better than his ever could. Maybe he'd given her a certain look. Maybe she was just stricken by a thought. But whatever it was, they came to some kind of mutual conclusion about each other that hardly warranted explaining. Instead, Mahiri simply came up with a suggestion.

"You know. The old Barnam house hasn't been occupied in some time. Aside from perhaps a ghost or two, we'd be able to spend some time there without interruption." Then her voice dropped into a lower, more sensually feline register. "I imagine you'd find that more fun than spending the rest of the night on patrol."

For such a simple statement, it was filled with implications. He didn't ask any stupid questions. Instead, he slowly nodded, following her direction as she led him right back the way they came. This time, she walked in front of him, giving him a good look at her spotty tail swinging back and forth with every step. He wasn't sure if she was showing off or if that was just her natural gait. Either way, he considered himself effectively teased. When exactly he'd realized how attracted he was to her wasn't clear to him. Maybe on first glance. Or maybe he's slowly found himself seeing her as something lovely and enticing rather than dangerous or malicious the longer he spent with her. All her harsh edges smoothed over to leave her look soft, welcoming, and ever so warm on that chilly night. If he was a creature of pure impulse, he might have wrapped his arms around her right that very moment. That wouldn't have been polite, but something told him she wouldn't have minded at all.

They carried out the return journey in silent haste, hurried along by an unspoken urgency they could both feel. When they arrived, Mahiri whirled around, flashed him that little smile, and finally threw back her hood to reveal those tightly-tied locks of crimson hair, and the elegant rosettes of a leopardess. Until then, all he knew was she was a cat, and now he knew she was even lovelier than he initially thought. His mind was in an instant filled with images of how she might look stripped down to her spots. He wondered how long it would take to kiss every one of them. Maybe days. Or years. Maybe they just never ran out, and he might lose himself in the vastness of her curves once more. Chastity was such an overrated virtue, but he still found himself blushing to have such impure thoughts intruding on his mind. She probably couldn't read them through magic, but his expression probably told her enough. Her laugh was soft and sweet.

"Are you thinking perhaps it's wrong to be alone with me? A sin, even?"

Tristan muttered for a while, not quite sure how to answer that. He'd already expressed how unsatisfied he was with his order to her, but did that mean throwing it away just because he'd met a pretty kitty who made him feel all fluttery inside? Maybe no one would find out. But there had been a point, once, where he'd believed in a watchful eye above. He couldn't help but wonder what sort of judgment that unseen entity might pass, even if they'd never shown him any sign of existing. Maybe this was a test, his final trial of faith, and his fellow knights were lurking in the shadows, waiting to see how he might react. When he never got around to saying anything, she stepped closer and flashed him her most devious of grins yet.

"You wanna know which members of your divine order are bottoms?"

His eyes went wide.

"No!" he gasped.

"No? Alright then. I'll just have to -"

He cut her off.

"I don't mean no. I just - I thought such things were forbidden. They've been preaching that ever since the start ..."

"Mmhmm. And yet, some of them are super fond of big fat dicks. I've seen them. Or ... been involved, now and then. Easier than breaking out of a cell."

His eyes flashed with intense curiosity. "I need names," he insisted.

She stepped back and strolled about in that lazily luxuriant feline way, counting off on her fingers.

"Let's see now ... Sir Mattias, Sir Kine ... "

"I never would have thought ..." he murmured.

"... Sir Frandall," she went on.

"Hm. Okay, yeah, that one makes sense."

"And of course, there's the Grandmaster himself ..."

"Now I know you're joking."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Anyway. Here's my point."

He waited for her to elaborate, but instead she just stepped up close, threw her arms over her shoulders, and brought all that tension to a peak as she laid her lips against his own. It was the smallest kiss, a mere few seconds of contact, but that brief taste of her lips and breath was enough to leave him feeling so free, as if he'd just cast off a pair of shackles, or perhaps thawed his way out of a block of ice. It was a sensation that made him want to cry out for a moment. But he was happy to settle for just holding her, squeezing her a little, giving her an affectionate if not entirely suggestive hug. Not yet. He'd work his way there. The rumble in her throat when she spoke to him was certainly helping him along.

"My point is, if you permit yourself just one night of doing what feels good, your superiors certainly couldn't judge you. There would be nothing wrong about that."

"Well ... then where should we start?"

She ran her hands up and down his sides, a gesture that perhaps lost a little impact given that meant she was merely touching his armour. He couldn't feel a thing through all those plates and mail.

"Do what feels right. Touch. Taste. Whatever pops into your doggy mind."

He thought about it. What about her intrigued him the most? Her scent had been lingering in his mind ever since their first moment together, and yet he still couldn't quite make sense of it. She had a certain femininity, but there was also something else. Aside from the usual exertion that came with being a cunning rogue sneaking through the wilderness, all wrapped up tight in her black, heat-absorbing leather, there was something more exotic, something spicier about her that he couldn't ignore. He liked it, even if he couldn't explain why. She was sturdy, tall, and she knew how to use those knives she kept strapped to her broad hips. Maybe it was just that usual forbidden attraction to someone he was supposed to apprehend, and her aura of danger and charm all in one. Or maybe he was just hot for women who could stab him. Either way, he felt a supremely strong urge to _sniff_her, to take in the aroma of that flirty cat, and let something overwhelm his senses other than the usual incense.

Pressing his nose down to her collar, he snurfed his way up along her neckline, making his way to the top of her head. Her hair was so soft, so fragrant, and it was well worth his attention. He soaked in that feeling for a while, indulging himself, following his urges while he held her close. Though he simply had to do something about that armour. He was clanking with every movement, and he wished to feel her against his bare chest. Stepping back for just a moment, keeping that scent in his nose, he worked those straps until there came a clatter in the night. It echoed out through the empty, possibly haunted farmhouse as he stripped off the protective layers and let them simply fall. Perhaps there was a certain level of symbolism in that. Or perhaps he simply couldn't wait to be closer to her, letting her have a good glimpse of his brawny chest, of those well-trained muscles and the occasional scar marring his otherwise smooth dobie fur. Whether she was exaggerating the awe in her eyes or not, he didn't really care. He was flattered all the same, and welcomed her every greedy touch along his fur and skin, petting her way up and down to take in every detail of his newly revealed body.

On the other hand, he didn't want her to take anything off just yet. Not when she looked so good in her leathers. Pressing his shirtless form up behind her own, he let his hands run over her rumbling body, moving seemingly all on their own to take in and touch and places he most desired. A grope, a squeeze, and generous massage through that layer of light armour ensured she kept those pleasing vibrations going. Were they purrs or something else? He wasn't entirely certain what sort of sounds leopards could or couldn't make, but he looked forward to finding out. She was already slipping in some pleasantly intense rowls as he felt her up, pressing his bulge against the small of his back while he kneaded his way down her curves. She had such a perfect silhouette - shapely, filled out, soft in all the right places, but still quick and nimble to help her to do all those things a feline thief needed to do. He took her in, admired every curve, squishing deeply into well-bound breasts. He could tell they were even bigger than they looked in her armour, flattened down for manoeuvrability. One thing she couldn't hide was just how juicy her butt was. He simply had to get his hands on it.

"Rrrr ... so grabby. I like it," she teased him. "You don't get the chance to just feel someone often, do you? Must get lonely in the barracks ..."

She punctuated that with a little bump back against him as he groped her fine, leatherclad ass, kneading deeply into her covered cheeks while his bulge swelled out to the point of putting uncomfortable pressure on his pants. He wondered how long they'd hold out. Probably not long with a doggy dick pushing out against the fabric, bringing the drawstring taut and threatening to just split them open for how firmly his unsheathed cock was pulsing there against her backside. He couldn't help but thrust against her a few times, dry-humping that leathered kitty butt, and her response was a mrowl of pleasure so seductive he feared for a moment he might blow his load right that very moment and spoil all the fun. Thankfully, his shaft settled for just twitching heavily, the knot already firming in his swollen sheath before it popped out and made for a distinct outline in his pants. One he kept pressed right against her backside, enjoying the sound of cloth meeting leather even if he knew he wanted so much more than a little grinding. Her teasing certainly wasn't helping him keep a hold of himself.

"Tell me, sir knight," she started, making him huff.

"I told you. You can call me Tristan."

"Well then, Sir Tristan the knight - have you ever fucked a girl in the ass before?" A little wiggle from side to side ensured she rubbed against his bulge extra firmly as she asked that. "Probably some kind of sin for you, I bet."

"Betting's a sin too. And no," he told her, firmly at first, before letting a confession slip through. "But I'd like to."

"What about taking bribes?" She gave a buck of her hips to plap back against his bulge.

He harumphed. "You're not bribing me. I can smell how horny you are."

"Hmm. Nothing escapes the long nose of the law, does it?" She giggled at him, flopping her head back over his bare shoulder, letting her locks spill down his back. "I didn't think a holy paladin of the order knew a word like horny."

"I know lots of words. Even some big ones. But I can't tell you. Secrets of the order and all that."

"Mmhmm. And does all that fancy training teach you how to strip a horny cat down to her spots?"

A small smile spread across his lips as he silently accepted his challenge. Of course he knew how to undress her. Or so he thought. Once he actually moved his hands to attempt to remove her from her lightly armoured outfit, he realized he actually had no idea where to start. What was this strap for? Was that buckle just for show or was it a load-bearing kind of thing? Just how many belts did she need, exactly? And then there were all the hidden pockets, concealing all manner of illicit goods and thievery tools. Slipping his finger into one of them produced the jingle of coins. He couldn't see Mahiri's face from where he was and yet somehow he could just sense the guilty expression that spilled over her upon that discovery.

"Hm. Now how did those get there? Maybe you'd better stop poking your fingers where they don't belong and let me do it. Here. I have a place for them."

Taking him by the wrist, she directed one of his hands right up to her mouth so she could suck on those digits of his, lightly nibbling with the very tips of her teeth. It wasn't exactly a sexual thing, but somehow it just felt so very intimate to him, bringing his sheath from swollen to slowly sliding back to let his cock push uncomfortably at his pants. Oh, he needed her. That much he knew. Just listening to her suck and chomp his fingers with those happy little rumble sounds she liked to make was enough to make him flatten his ears and stifle a moan that threatened to burst free. It wasn't for the pleasure exactly, but for just how good it felt to be close to her, to touch and be touched, totally alone, unafraid of who might interfere or judge them.And then there came his snort of surprise when she sucked his fingers right into his throat, letting him feel the muscular contractions of her gullet as if she were attempting to swallow them. If there was a watchful eye in the sky gazing down upon the two of them, its owner couldn't possibly have faulted him for wanting her right in that moment.

While she teased him with her mouth, her nimble fingers went to work removing that complex covering to slowly reveal her spots. It felt away in two pieces from her top half, giving him a look from the back at the shape of her breasts. Unbound and free at last, they bounced heavily and pushed out much larger than they'd been beneath the leather. Such a set simply demanded his attention. Wrapping his arms around her, he clutched deeply at her tits, squeezing into them to see how nicely they squished. There was such heft and weight to the both of them, and an almost unnatural amount of heft. Was she truly a sneaky thief, or was she secretly a wielder of the arcane arts to be gifted with such a bust? Or maybe it was worse. Maybe she'd given her soul over to some dark patron and become a warlock when she wasn't busy sneaking about. Or maybe it was just that she just had an exceptionally perky set of plump kitty tits perfect for the squeezing and kneading. The purrs resonating through her chest only encouraged him to touch as much as he possibly could, massaging her topless form as he pressed closer and closer against her body.

That of course meant pressing his bulge against her butt all the tighter, grinding against the leather that still covered her bottom half. Getting out of that was a more involved process, one that involved loosening the buckles of several belts and straps alike, and doing plenty of wiggling. He left her to it while he lightly pinched her nipples, delighting in how much she seemed to enjoy letting him freely play with her. He was lightly humping her by then, his hips moving all on their own to thrust and bump against her booty, turned on beyond any possible measure of restraint or decency. Just rubbing, grinding, sliding back and forth against her body, he waited until she was almost fully out of those clothes, revealing spot after spot, that lovely rosette-clad ass coming fully into view for his groping pleasure. But just before he could take the generous double-handful he so craved, she swirled around in a single smooth, tail-lashing movement to give him a much better look at those delightfully jiggling tits of hers. And yet somehow his eyes weren't immediately on them. Instead, he was slightly agape as his gaze strayed downwards, watching every twitch, every throb of that thick, uncut, pitch black kitty cock standing up proud and solid thanks to all his groping attention. He thought cats were supposed to be modest.

In truth, he'd never been with a partner who had a dick before, but it didn't change his thoughts on how much he desired her. Rather than let that shaft go unattended for too long, he instead just let his curiosity get the better of him, reaching down and taking hold of her inches so that he could feel them flexing in his gentle grip. He handled her with care, faintly massaging her as if her cock was made of glass. Sure, she had a big dick and all, but she was still a girl. He had to treat her right. She giggled while he ever so delicately rubbed her, and most certainly did not extend the same courtesy. Instead, she just made a grab for his bulge, wrapping her fingers snugly around its outline to give him a firm enough squeeze he couldn't help but yap. Not quite a whimper, but a startled doggish sound to be handled with such obvious greed and lust. Maybe he really had fallen into temptation, and she was a succubus who would steal his soul at any moment. Or maybe she was just one hot cat who he couldn't wait to spend the night with.

"Well come on now. Don't keep me waiting. Let's see what the big doggy's got under his belt."

"I can't get my pants off with you squeezing me like that," he fussed.

"You're just going to have to work around me then, 'cause I refuse to let go."

She flashed him that irresistible grin of hers again, though eventually she did relent. Instead, she worked her hands to his belt and pulled it off of him in a single motion. He didn't even see her unclasp it before she was whipping it through the air, tossing it aside to clatter on the floor with the rest of his armour. Then it was just a matter of stripping him from his pants, tugging them down his muscular legs until he was fully exposed to her. His was still bigger. Just a little. Swollen up to its full, veiny, knotted form like that, it was perfect for pressing against her own. She moved in close as soon as she laid eyes upon his impressive member, arms tightly locked around his spine as she slipped her lightly dripping dick up against his balls. From there it was a matter of grinding slowly upwards, smearing a glaze of precum along his pulsing skin until they were tip to tip, gliding and glossing against one another, grinding and humping and jousting with their thumping spires. When he huffed out, steam escaped his open mouth, the heat in the room rising and rising the longer they were close. No small part of him wanted to just throw himself atop her and thrust until he found a place to fuck, but that would have been unbecoming of someone like him. Instead, he savoured her every touch, her every rub, and those constant, enduring rumbles that escaped her while they embraced there in the darkness of the old abandoned home.

When he stroked her, he was still tentative and careful, even while he was squeezing their dicks together and pumping up and down. Such a motion was still plenty enough to milk some juices out of her, to make a mess of his hand that he simply had to lick clean after a good few rubs. He was hesitant at first, holding those juiced digits in front of his face, curiously sniffing them. Then came the slurp, and he didn't regret it. Some of the flavour was his own of course, but the rest was that wonderfully silky, enticing cat musk that prevailed ever since she'd stripped down. She was soft and sugar-sweet on the one sniff, spicy and deeply arousing on the other, and it all came out in the taste of her essence as he licked it from his fingers. A little slurp, a pause to smack his lips and consider her taste, and then he went back from more, looking like a gourmand sampling a delicacy rather than someone who was licking sex juices off his fingers. The way she was watching him, he must have looked pretty silly. Why else would she be grinning like that, as if she was about to burst into hysterics?

"Tristan, forgive me, but I'm going to make an assumption about you."

"That's a sin too," he said with playful scorn. "What is it?"

"I'm going to just guess that you've never played with someone else's dick before and that you're still figuring out what you think of it all."

"Hmph!" he huffed, shaking his head. "I don't see how that's relevant."

"It doesn't have to be. It's just cute, seeing you all wide-eyed and curious like that. You don't have to pretend to like it just for my sake."

"I am certainly not pretending," he insisted, and he was very firm about that, even puffing his chest a little. "I am just ... figuring things out as I go."

To prove it, he went ahead and started rubbing her again, giving her a slow, luxuriant rub along the glossy details of her gloriously decadent dick. She might have lacked the knot and tapered shape of his own, but she made up for it with that ever-so-smooth skin across her entire shaft. Not to mention the excess near the tip, perfect for rolling back and rubbing his thumb beneath, massaging beneath the head of her cock in slow, admiring motions. He couldn't stop touching her once he started. Hopefully that eagerness cut through the slight confusion apparently evident in his body language.

To try to really hammer it home, he put a little growl in his voice, trying to be as seductive as her. "You're a gorgeous feline woman and I want to make you cum."

"That's what I like to hear. A good dog like you deserves a treat, I think."

He hated how much his ears perked up to hear that word. All the years of training couldn't make him unlearn those natural doggish reactions. At least he managed to keep from wagging his tail. That would have been truly embarrassing. Besides, she clearly wasn't talking about throwing him one of his favourite baked goods or the like. Her intent was clear from the moment she laid her palms upon his chest, and slowly stroked her way south along the crevices of his muscles, working her kneading fingers into every detail. The way she squeezed and massaged him, he could tell she was an anatomical expert, pushing on all those pressure points to make him tingle and relax, easing tension from his muscles with a mere few touches. The soreness that came from trudging around in his armour all day was something he just accepted as always being there, which made its absence all the more a relief. He sighed into her embrace as she sank down to her knees before him, her palms pressed to her thighs and her richly warm breath puffing over his cock as it twitched there right in front of her face. She let the moment drag out just a little longer, even once he started whimpering with need. Then there came the first kiss.

She laid it on the tip of his shaft, slowly smooching until his precum clung to her lips, popping off with a little splash that left her purring all the harder. Those rumbles had never ceased, but they grew sharply intense in those moments, so much louder than before, and then she added a long, breathy moan from that single taste. Surely she was exaggerating, but the glimmer in her eyes made her pleasure seem genuine. And she certainly didn't mind his taste. That much was evident by her going for so much more of it at once, swiping her extended tongue up under his balls to press to his taint, dragging up along his sack and to the very tip of his shaft once more, cleaning up every single drop of fluids trickling from his knotted spire thanks to her attentions. He squirmed as that scratchy texture left him overstimulated to the point he thought for one brief, clenching moment that he was going to blow his load right there. The thought of it, and the image that appeared in his head of her spotty face all covered in his cum, of rivers trailing down her tits and clinging to her fur, was enough to make him tighten his jaw and half-close his eyes. It was going to be difficult resisting the urge to just erupt at any moment. And it was only getting more challenging when she wrapped her soft lips snugly around his dick.

The leopardess never took her eyes off him the whole time. She kept her green gaze shining brightly up at him as he watched her going down on his every inch. Slurping towards his knot, she eventually laid a big wet smooch against that hefty bulb. But what truly made him whimper was when she slipped so effortlessly over it, engulfing it in her humid mouth, sucking his cock until she swallowed the first few inches of it. Just watching her made him almost want to choke, but she barely flinched. Her eyes fluttered but remained open, watching him, taking in his reactions as his face scrunched up into an expression of pure pleasure. He had no idea what to do with his hands. Clutching at her seemed likely to upset the process of getting the sucking of a lifetime, the smooth touch of her lips and the rough drag of her tongue combining to keep him at a peak, keep him trembling and tensing and pulling tight all over as his balls heaved and pumped with pressure. Once again he imagined himself cumming right in her mouth, listening to her gargle and gulp it down, or just slosh it around in her mouth a while before drooling it down over her ample bust. But he had to save himself, had to let it build and build, even if he was starting to feel like a living dam pressed to its breaking point.

He couldn't suppress the whimpers that came every time she bobbed up and down, popping over his knot again and again, slathering him in saliva until it was dripping down his nuts thanks to that extra sloppy suck. Schlurp schlurp came her rhythm once she got going, her tits jiggling with the vigour of that messy blowjob. He threw his hands in the air, clutched his own head, and then finally settled for pressing his fingers into those silky red locks, lightly rubbing her scalp while she pleasured him with that talented mouth of hers. It was like she knew how to keep him on the edge of climax without ever quite pushing him over, massaging him slowly back and forth, swallowing every single drop he gave her until he was clacking his teeth into something like a snarl. He couldn't hold out much longer, not when she was testing his willpower to the fullest. Her succulent succubus-like sucking left him groaning out and half-saying her name, balling his hands into fists, closing his eyes and pushing to his very limits. Not even the trials of joining the order had tested him like this, and for as good as her lips might have felt wrapped around his cock, the relief that flooded over him when she slipped free was like a cool breeze in the desert.

Not that it left him any less tense. His cock was rigid to the point of making his whole body pump back and forth every time it throbbed, but he held on, breathing in deeply through his nose, and sighing out through his clenched teeth. A few rounds of that and he was calm enough to speak again, watching her leering at him, looking so very feline and satisfied with herself as she rose up to her feet once more.

"You are very good with your mouth, I'll say," he said, blushing at how formal it sounded once he actually spoke those words out loud.

"Mmhm. You're looking a little flustered. Never been sucked quite like that before, have you?"

"I can honestly say I'd never even imagined it being that good."

"Ooh, don't inflate my ego any further. I'm already a cat. Pretty damn gorgeous one at that."

Reaching out, she patted him on the shoulder, then squeezed into one of his neck muscles. It felt like she could apply just a tiny bit more pressure and he'd pass out on the spot, but in the meantime it was just a warm, soothing massage that helped him calm himself for at least a little while. He was still a few strokes away from cumming though, and the way his cock was pulsing, giving firm, sudden jerks upwards as the pressure pumped through it made it feel like he could have easily peaked if she so much as breathed over it too firmly. He was so close, so horny, so in need of a good place to bury that doggy dick that he couldn't wait any longer. As much as he wanted to treat her right, to keep from being too rough with her, he absolutely had to be a little assertive, because he wasn't going to physically manage to wait any longer. Placing two clamping hands suddenly on the curves of her spotty rump, he squeezed extra deep into those juicy cheeks, feeling them up for the first time, taking in their heft and weight and plumpness. As nimble as she was, that ass was just a little bit on the fat side, jiggling in his grasp, squishing between his fingers like the freshest, warmest dough.

He might have just squeezed and played with her butt all night long if she let him. That squishy soft rump was perfect for kneading and massaging, pressing deep into those deeply padded cheeks, squeezing hard enough he got some sharp yowls from her. He didn't exactly speak cat, so he wasn't sure if those were sounds of approval or slight pain. Either way, she wasn't content to just let him squish those cheeks for too much longer. Getting squirmy and fussy in his grasp, she pressed closer and closer to him, slowly swinging herself around until her hip was rubbing against his belly, and then around some more. Pressing her booty against his thighs, she stood up tall on the tips of her toes so she could grind against his knot a little, pressing it right between those lovely mounds, humping back against him with rumbly insistence. It would have been ever so easy to just bend her over right there, to fuck her beneath that swishy tail, but he wasn't about to be so impolite. The fine lady had already done him such a favour, sucking him to the brink of oblivion like that. It was the right thing to do to return such generosity - if, partly, to get his revenge for tormenting him with such pleasure.

With that thought, he pressed his nose to the base of her neck and went slowly snuffling down her spine, sniffing her spots until he was on his knees behind her. By her idle rowling, she enjoyed the attention, though he knew he could get better sounds out of her. Shoving his nose right up between her cheeks was enough to get those breathy kitty moans he wanted, and so too was taking a long, deep sniff beneath her tail. Such a canine thing to do, and one that set her to nearly snarling with pleasure when he added his tongue to the attention. A sloppy slup and slorp slapped up and down her rim as he went right for his target. Swiping from taint to tailbase, he ate that roguish ass like it was his midnight snack, sparing nothing from the extra-slick strokes of his wet dobie tongue. Mahiri got noisier with every slurp, her moaning rumbles a mix of pleasure and sheer surprise that someone like him would know how to feast upon a booty with such vigour. He clutched her by the hips to make sure she couldn't escape from his waggling tongue, slowly pushing it inside her to make sure that fine, tight hole was nicely lubricated with all the drool pouring from him as he tasted her in the most intimate of ways.

Eventually his shoving and licking meant spreading her and loosening her until he could get his tongue right inside of her. At first he just managed to wiggle a single inch within those heated confines, but enough pushing and he was fully buried, muzzle deep in leopard rump, eating her out from the inside as he plunged back and forth. A sloppy-wet tongue-fuck was enough to get her mewling, those sounds so very soft and kittenish that they nearly broke his heart. She was terribly cute for a practised criminal and possible killer. The jury was still out on that. But assassin or not, he was happy to push his head between those big round cheeks and stay immersed in her scent and warmth as he pleasured her to the point of dripping. She wasn't even touching her cock but he could hear it thumping up against her belly with every solid throb, pulsing with delight as his wet tongue worked. His slurps might not have been quite so tingly or precise as hers, but he made up for it with drooly doggish enthusiasm, closing his eyes and holding on tight, savouring that fine ass like it were a piece of art, a thing of beauty deserving of his worship. For those lingering moments, she was his goddess, and he was devoted to her.

He was successful in getting her every bit as worked up as she got him, leaving her aching and shaking and jiggling all over as her body bounced and twitched with the risen tension crackling up and down her spine. Those jolts of lust and need were making her show her teeth, snarling in the moonlight as she finally lost control of her legs, staggering forward and away from his embrace. He was up to follow her in an instant, guided by her swaying hips, his eyes locked on her booty while it swung back and forth with her every shaky step. Eventually she found the place, a bit of storage beneath the stairs where some hay bales sat still fresh as ever. It wasn't the most romantic of places, perhaps. He could barely see much in the dark, but her silhouette persisted in his mind's eye, inspiring him to take her, to lay with her in that soft straw and to cover her body with his own. He was a creature of instinct, guided by his base desires, thinking nothing of discipline or chastity and only of pure, animal lust that would not go away until he fucked that pretty kitty for all he was worth.

"Rrrr ... go ahead. Let it all out. There are no rules, no laws out here ..." she urged him.

Teasing him further was hardly necessary. He knew exactly what he wanted. Thumping, thrusting, grinding up between those cheeks, he found his mark in seconds. A push, a wet slip against her rim, and he tried again. This time his aim was true, and he sank sweetly between her cheeks to slide inside her warm body inch after inch after inch. He pushed until he felt the tap of his knot kissing on her rim, and from there he bumped and thrust a few more times, making her spots jiggle, grinding out and holding back to urge to suddenly erupt that very moment. That wouldn't do at all. Even with her clenching up all tight like that, massaging him, kneading his sunken inches of dobie dick, he resisted, holding onto those shreds of willpower, silently reminding himself of how good it was going to feel to pound that leopard, to plow and maybe even punish her a little. She wasn't a bad cat. But maybe he could treat her like she was, for just a little while.

It admittedly wasn't a tender, knightly lovemaking like something out of the romantic tales he raised hearing. It was a hot, sweaty fuck in the dark, the denial of his one sense only serving to enhance everything that came to the others. Her scent swam over him, a sea of sweetness that drove him to the height of his desires. The touch of her fur, and her warm body beneath his own was as soothing as it was arousing, making him think of how good it would feel to simply curl up with her for the night and sleep till dawn holding that soft feline closely. But then there was the pleasure of his knotted dick ramming into her butt. He'd never felt that tight grip of fucking someone in the ass, and those frequent clenches miking the precum from his shaft only encouraged him to rut her harder, deeper, to make a sloppy mess of her cheeks for all the juices overflowing down her taint in every backstroke. His balls were swollen as they slapped against her backside, driving, spanking, rutting her as if they were two beasts born only for breeding. And knowing he could fill her up with his seed without worry of the consequences only inspired him to bury himself deeper, to test her tightness with his knot while he panted directly into one of her perked ears.

"Ahh ... Tristan ... that's a good boy ..." she teased.

He took it as a high compliment, ensuring his efforts never ceased. Plap plap plap went the sound of their bodies smacking together. Every thump to her cheeks sent some glorious wobbles through her entire form. Ass, thighs, tits, even that little bit of softness on her belly, he made her jiggle with the force of his lust for her. She was a pillow of a feline, pressed beneath his muscled body, her warmth and curves ensuring every moment spent pressed as close to her as possible was one he basked in utter comfort. He let his hips work all on their own, his feral rhythm pounding those spots hard, never slow, never tiring. All that training had to be good for something. His willpower held as well as his stamina, heroically fucking that feisty feline while she alternated between snarling and yowling at him from beneath his bulk. One moment her voice could be so dark and thunderous, summoning up those deeply guttural big cat sounds like she was calling a storm to destroy their surroundings. And then the next she was a shrieking, screaming alley cat, piercing his sensitive ears with those shrill noises, making him flatten them down to his head just so he could endure and fuck her to the fullest, panting and drooling all over her. He didn't care if he made a mess. That was just what she got when she got fucked by a big doberman like him.

When he felt the heat building, blazing through his nerves, he finally let her up from that commanding pin. Wrenching back, he grabbed hold of her tits and pulled her against his chest as he knelt down behind her, letting her nestle into his lap as she wobbled with the motions of his body. That was a prime position to give her a little bit of control right back, and she soon set to slamming back against him, rolling her broad hips to thump his knot and spread herself out around that perfectly solid bulb. He licked the side of her face while he rested his chin on her shoulder, fucking that fine ass and getting his dick rode all at once, stretching her, filling her, until there finally came that distinct, wet POP that sealed them together by the binding of his pounding knot. It sealed up inside her body, ensuring his dick was completely buried in her belly, stuffing her, stretching her, the pulsing outline mostly concealed by her slight pudge but moving up and down as she rode him with those lap-slapping thunks of ass to thighs. She wasn't content to call him finished just because he'd knotted her, making full use of that single inch of dick that wasn't already wedged up inside of her.

When that proved almost too much for him, provoking a whimper as she tugged on his knot again and again, he shoved forth and got her on her hands and knees, laying himself over her spotty back. She planted her palms firmly, but her arms were already wobbling beneath his weight. Soon, a proper doggy style position turned into something more like mating cats, with her head down flat and her ass up high. He nibbled on her until he found that loose scruff on the back of her neck. That reminded him - cats loved that sort of thing, didn't they? He didn't even hesitate to find out. Biting firmly into that tender skin, he got exactly the yowl he wanted, and kept it going by fucking her with all his might, all his knightly passion until her cock was spurting precum onto her own tits. Eventually he needed more than just an inch of thrusting room, and so he went ahead and tugged straight back, slowly wrenching that knot free until he got just as satisfying a POP as before. Lurching back, he reset his momentum and plunged forth, tying with her again, slamming that bulb into her butt, then pulling it out again, making her scream and buck and bash her ass against him in a desperate urge to keep that intense pleasure going.

He was mildly worried about bruising her with all that bashing, but then she might well have ended up leaving a mark on him too for how hard she was slamming into him, pushing back and making sure every stroke as a battering ram of power, driving into her depths to make him completely lose himself in the pleasure. A toss of his head, and he was tempted to simply howl. That temptation increased as the twitching, clenching pleasure of her impending climax started to milk him closer, and started to finally break through that mighty wall of willpower that had kept him from cumming inside her for so very long. He had no idea how long they'd been fucking. It could have been a few minutes, it could have been hours. He had lost all sight of the world around them, thinking only of that warm cat and how good she felt around his dick, massaging him to a monstrous peak that finally broke the floodgates of his most doggish sounds. Damn whoever might be bothered by the sound. He erupted with a triumphant AROOO into the empty confines of the abandoned house, and to the night beyond as he climaxed in the kitty's butt. If he was worried he was being too loud, then she went ahead and showed him up, punching into the silence of their surroundings with a massive, bone-rattling feline ROAR that burst from her open jaws as she clamped down with the full force of her inner muscles around his cock.

He jammed that knot inside her and felt it swell up even larger along with the rest of his shaft as his cum shot through his inches and into her body. A slishing, splattering mess soon filled her as she emptied her own tense nuts all over the hay beneath them, soaking their surroundings in her scent, ensuring any future occupants would know precisely what went on there beneath the stairs for how much of a musky mess she was making. The initial gush was enough to make him recoil, testing just how tightly sealed he was to her by that heavy knot, but he hardly expected to have more to give her. Another shot, another, each one like a climax of its own, left him trembling as he held on tight to her squished-down tits, holding her in that mounted position to totally unload within her. Splashing, sloshing, shooting, he spunked her full until the heat of her body was even more intense for that fresh hot load sagging in her belly. It just kept milking from him, as if she were a succubus bent on stealing every drop of precious seed from his body. And meanwhile, the sounds she made as she poured her load over every single inch of their surroundings. Those yowly-snarls were almost terrifying, though they had to compete with the supremely lewd glssssh of cat cum splashing all around her, hosing from her engorged dick, milked to exploding by the feeling of his cock inside her alone. He had never even thought to reach around and finish her off, he realized in the dying moments of his ecstasy, but it hasn't proven necessary. Fucking her fat, spotty ass was all she needed to cum his brains out for him.

All he knew was he was thankful they didn't bring the house down around them. That certainly would have been difficult to explain to his superiors. But maybe he didn't need them anymore. They slumped together, collapsing in the straw, still tied by that pulsing knot. Now and then, his body shook and he pumped another thin rope of cum inside her, adding to that simmering load he'd already given her just that much more. Licking the back of her head, he couldn't help but feel the thoughts overwhelm him as those post-climactic feelings of contentment flooded through his senses. All was bright and tingly, even in the dark, and he just wanted to hold her close for as long as it took to recover just so he could fuck her again.

"Alright. Maybe I do believe you after all," he joked, marred by all the panting.

She giggled. "I'd hope so. Otherwise you'd have to haul me off to jail with your knot stuck in my butt. And that would be pretty tricky to explain."

"Maybe, maybe." He trailed off, those thoughts intensifying once more.

Even purring there in post-orgasmic bliss, she could sense that something was troubling him.

"Don't worry. No one's going to find out. It's like I say. Your holy order isn't nearly as chaste as they pretend. Even if I did tell, no one would do anything."

"I don't know about that. But that's not the point." He shuffled a little, though he was still very much knotted with her, and every movement sent a shudder of pleasure up his spine. "I was just thinking."

"Thinking hm? Right after cumming that hard? You really are unlike your order, aren't you?"

"I think that's just it. Maybe I don't belong. It's not just tonight that made me think it. But it helped."

She wiggled against him a little. "Amazing what some nice, tight ass can do for your clarity isn't it?"

"Mmhm." He playfully groped that well-fucked booty as he considered. "Maybe I should just take to the adventuring style. Like you. Maybe even ..."

"Ohhh, hold on a minute. I work alone, doggy." Though after considering a while, she acquiesced. "Though ... maybe having a little muscle at my side would be pretty useful sometimes."

"Deal then?"

"I didn't say that!"

"Then maybe a trial. A test run. Just to see how we fare."

"Hmmmm. You're good at this, dobie. Maybe you're cut out for the adventuring lifestyle after all. But I'll warn you - there are going to be crimes."

"I understand. You'll do them for the right reasons, of course. Right?" He tipped his head.

"Yeah. We'll go with that." She chuckled, and before he could retort, she wiggled on his knot enough to silence him with his own moaning.

"Nnnf ..."

As for what their future journeys held, he had no idea. But if it might bring him away from there, away from the inaction and corruption of his order, and to places where he might help those in need directly, then wasn't that the more holy pursuit? She was certainly no goddess or saint, but he was content to follow her instead, at least for a while. Perhaps she'd prove shadier than she let on - or perhaps he was right, and her heart was truly as golden as her ambitions. A partnership it was, at least temporarily. And no doubt, such a pairing was going to mean plenty of nights spent cozied up together, whether in tents or under the roofs of the inns along the roads. Wherever their adventures took them, he was just glad that he would be with a warm, fuckable feline every step of the way. For as long as they could put up with each other, at least.