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Passionate Pride

Chapter 2: Trials and Titillations

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Chinzee and Takara are some of the most infamous adventurers in the land. They're barely worth the trouble of keeping around. Most people would rather just get them out of town before someone's building gets destroyed in one of their epic fights.

After blowing all of their money on companionship after striking it rich, the pair are as desperate for work as the local authorities are to get them out of town.

There are reports of strange things going on with goblins on the border between the local Duchy and the more lawless wilderness.

By StripedKittyScribe

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Trath finished casting the spell and the pair vanished, sent on their way via his magical transportation. He held the pose with his hands outstretched for a few seconds, and then collapsed back into his chair. "Thank the gods they're finally gone," he groaned, reaching out for a cup of wine and downing it all at once.

Trath knew that his lord had requested the pair be sent west, to handle some problems with the goblins and the underdark. Trath also knew that they had been sent by magic because it was the fastest way to get the Prideful Pair out of the city environs.

The dragonborn slumped in his chair, and took a deep breath, listening to the sound of a magical laboratory that wasn't echoing with the sounds of a pair of bickering, squabbling lions.

*

"It's not my fault that we overspent," Takara growled as he set the various pouches on the ground and started pulling his gear and armor out of them. "You're the one who picked out the entire 'menu' for the both of us!"

"And YOU didn't stop me or tell me that I was blowing our budget out of the water! You know that I don't keep track of finances, that's YOUR job!" Chinzee crossed her arms and turned her back on her companion while he got ready for whatever they would find.

The mage had done an excellent job, putting them right where they needed to be in terms of the mission. Clearly this was urgent, they hadn't even been sent to a town to stock up first. Not that they could. Not after Takara blew all of their coin on whores.

Takara's armor rattled and clattered as he started putting it on. "And if you didn't just want to get every dick in the city stuffed between your legs just because we happened to take out a lich, we wouldn't be in this position! You're the one who keeps saying that you need new foci and tools! Now we don't even have enough for a healing potion!"

Chinzee threw her hands in the air, "Delving is an expensive vocation! You have to spend coin to make coin! You know that!"

Takara stood up and bounced on his toes a few times, making sure that his greaves and cuisse didn't shift with the motion. "Yes, and you spend coin on equipment first, not dragging people into bed! If we don't find something significant down there to sell off, it's going to be months before you get your new boots! As if you even needed a new pair! My vambraces are practically destroyed after that gnasher came after me. These need repairing."

Chinzee snorted. "As if you wouldn't find something better within two delves," she growled. "Armor is cheap and easy to replace."

Takara almost threw one of the bags at her in frustration. "No, I wouldn't find something 'better', but we may find something more expensive! There's a difference, and you know it. The last thing we need is me with some damn rerebrace of firey protection and getting my mane set alight every time someone takes a swing at my arms!"

The argument continued the entire time that he put his armor on. And his belt and sword, and shield going over his back.

And when they started pushing their way into the underdark.

The bickering continued right up to the point that the goblins sprang their ambush.

Chinzee and Takara were ready. They'd long since adapted to the fact that neither would let the other have the last word, willingly, and at the first sign of the trap, Chinzee had flashed a quick hand signal.

Without even a grunt as he shifted the shield off of his shoulder, Takara kept the scathing rebuke going. He drew his sword while she was responding, using the noise to hide the rasp of steel on hard leather.

The fight was short, and almost without any kind of trouble. Chinzee didn't even bother with pulling out her dual lashes, she simply stuck to the rope dart. Most people thought that it was a whip, just because of how it lay coiled around her waist among the other two, but it was a far different weapon. She normally used it to bring absolute chaos to the battlefield, wrapping it around someone's leg or weapon, tripping or disarming them. Or she pulled the person completely into a new position, blocking someone else or putting them off balance where Takara could easily take them down with an attack of opportunity.

Takara was far more 'efficient' in his fighting style. He didn't disarm or hinder. He eliminated. The battlefield was a pall of smoke as his blade went through the monsters the same way that it would through water. The goblins shrieked out, and burst into smoke, banished from this realm for a hundred years. Some of their equipment clattered to the ground. Some vanished with them.

Chinzee started examining the loot and remnants before Takara had even finished the last two off, and as she concentrated, the banter died on her lips.

Takara didn't notice, since he was blocking one goblin's attack with his shield while stabbing the second. A quick shield bash and follow up strike later, and the battle was over. "Typical, leaving me to clean up your mess while you just play," he grumbled, cleaning his sword off before sheathing it once more. When she didn't reply, he stood up fully and started looking around. It didn't take long for him to see what had drawn her up short.

Chinzee picked up one of the fallen weapons. It was finely crafted, even artistic. The blade had a single edge, wickedly sharp, with the slightest curve from the hilt to the tip. The handle had intricately engraved vines and leaves, both to improve the grip and display the craftsmanship. The short blade barely counted as a dagger in her hands, and in Takara's it would be little more than a parrying knife. "Where in the pits did goblins get Bluesteel?"

*

The next two hours were passed in tense silence. Neither was willing to say anything because this situation was beyond bad. Little wonder the local Baron had asked for specialized help. Normal soldiers fought in formation, counting on shield walls and coordinated strikes to win the day. Most of their equipment wouldn't be enchanted. And as easily as Takara could run a goblin through, a Bluesteel blade could render an unenchanted shield useless within a few strikes.

Equip enough goblins with that kind of weaponry, and militia and even armies would be in significant trouble.

The further they made their way down into the Underdark, the more they found. Not just one-off blades, but in one case a full suit of armor on what had to be a chief or warleader. Chinzee was about to quip something about better armor already being found, when they heard something, and both focused toward a section of wall. Chinzee was the first to recognize what was going on. "Illusion," she declared, and thrust her hand through the rock.

This had three effects. First, the false image blurred and then faded away. Second, a bolt of arcane energy shot out, first hitting her, and then Takara, linking the two of them and wracking their bodies with pain and shock. Third, the group of goblins that had been running down the hallway let out a collective shriek and charged.

Thankfully, the goblins were still more than a hundred paces away. They didn't instantly fall on the two adventurers.

Takara slumped against the wall, and held his head. "What did..." He coughed. "Damn, I sound like you," he growled. Which was when he realized that he hadn't been standing next to a wall. He'd been standing in the middle of the chamber. He couldn't feel the airflow the way that he normally did. Something was wrong with his mane. And his chest felt oddly heavy. And round. Why was his armor suddenly leather?

Chinzee fell forward, catching herself with the shield strapped to her arm. She coughed, and then snapped her head up, seeing... herself... slumped against the wall next to the entrance that she'd just uncovered. She felt the vibrations of the howling, charging goblins, not in her feet, but in her mane.

They both looked at each other, eyes growing wide. "Oh. Shit."

This battle took far longer. Chinzee-in-Takara staggered forward, while Takara-in-Chinzee scrambled backward.

"Faster, faster," the two of them said almost in unison as they quickly traded weapons. Takara-in-Chinzee worked at the straps of the shield until it came free and focused on putting it on. Chinzee-in-Takara frantically pulled at the belt that held her three weapons, getting it free and trying to clumsily sling it around a much thicker waist.

They managed to end up with their own weapons, and had enough time to turn and set themselves at the entrance before the first goblin reached the mouth of that passage. Three of the little bastards slammed into Takara-in-Chinzee, who let out a squeal of dismay as the smaller form was driven back a pace.

"How do you fight like this?!" They looked at each other, who had said the same thing, at the same time.

"This mane is horrible! I can't get any momentum," Chinzee-in-Takara roared in frustration as the windup for a rope-dart throw got caught in Takara's mane.

"Why don't you strap these things down," Takara-in-Chinzee shrieked as a fast shifting of the shield to take a blow caught Chinzee's breasts.

"Well at least I don't have a tree trunk and boulders between my legs! I can't get a decent step down without that damn thing getting in the way!" Chinzee-in-Takara gave up on the rope dart, and switched to the two whips. One was enchanted to extend far further than it should, and could wrap around inanimate objects. She used that to latch on to things for climbing, or to pull levers that couldn't be reached otherwise. The second was far more vicious, and would create bleeding wounds on anyone that it struck.

They managed, after nearly ten minutes, to defeat the band of goblins. Chinzee-in-Takara finally managed to get a little bit of control over the lash, and started sending the end of it past Takara-in-Chinzee without hitting them.

Takara-in-Chinzee didn't have the upper body strength they were used to, and thus could only hold the mouth of the cave and stab occasionally, rather than take large sweeping motions that would clear the area quickly.

Both of them collapsed onto the ground, panting. Chinzee-in-Takara was the first to talk. "Break? Pocket keep? Figure this out?"

Takara-in-Chinzee flopped their hand in the direction of the other fighter. "On your belt. My belt. Whatever."

After five minutes of laying there catching their breath, both of them managed to crawl up onto their hands and knees, and after some fumbling, get their portable keep activated. What looked like a carved miniature stone structure a few inches on a side, grew to a 30 foot cube with thick stone walls and enchantments laid on the outside to warn anyone inside of anyone approaching within 100 feet.

The trick to this was that it would only react to the owner's command. Technically, Takara owned it. Neither of them were willing to risk the object either malfunctioning because of their current state, or risk determining that somehow they were the other completely as far as the universe was concerned. They looked at each other, and Takara-in-Chinzee held up their hand, counting down on fingers. When no more fingers remained, they spoke the word together, then repeated the process for opening the door.

The first hour was spent with each of them sitting in separate rooms with their heads in their hands. Cinzee-in-Takara was the first to stand, and drag themself out into the common room. "Get out here," the deep leonine voice growled, making her wince. It wasn't quite enough to shake the rafters but by the gods and planes, that lion could make himself heard with no effort. She usually had to put some extra power in to get that kind of projection.

Takara-in-Chinzee stumbled out of the other room, looking like they'd had a good cry. At least they'd cleaned up. Mostly. "So what are we going to do about this?"

Chinzee-in-Takara took a deep breath, then let it out. "I know someone that we can contact."

Takara-in-Chinzee shook their head quickly. "Absolutely not. I refuse to let anyone know about.... This."

Chinzee-in-Takara almost fought, just out of habit. If he said white, she had to say black. But they had a point. If knowledge of this 'situation' were to get out, it would ruin their reputation. Or rather, further ruin their reputation. "I think I can still read Arcane. A ward like that should have at least left some residue where it was marked. I may be able to read that and then we can look for a solution."

Chinzee-in-Takara walked out of the structure, and went to look at where the spells had been carved into a section of the wall. Taking a blank sheet of parchment, they pressed the sheet into the stone, and scrubbed it with a loose rock. It transferred some of the scorched material, and didn't smudge too much. It would be enough to get some research done.

Chinzee-in-Takara returned to the portable fortress, and tossed the parchment onto the table. "Help me get out of this armor. I can't think, and the weight is distracting me."

Takara-in-Chinzee moved forward and started fumbling. They were used to taking the armor off of themselves, not someone else. "Stop squirming. I can't get to the ties."

"You're... touching me."

"No, I'm touching me," Takara-in-Chinzee grumbled, ears folding back in embarrassment.

"No, I'm touching me."

Takara-in-Chinzee dropped their hands off. "Do you want me to help or not? Just stand still."

Chinzee-in-Takara's ears folded back into the lush mane. The other hands working again at undressing the armor were having an effect that Chinzee's mind had never experienced. Male arousal. Specifically, an erection. As the breastplate came up and off of their chest, they quickly turned away. "I can get the rest."

Takara-in-Chinzee almost protested. The ties on the lower half were complicated. And yet, they were experiencing something that Takara's mind had never experienced. Female arousal.

They both said, "I'm tired," at the same time.

Chinzee-in-Takara turned their head to look at the parchment. "I'll look at that in the morning. I can't think right now."

They both looked at the floor, each getting slightly dizzy at the sight of their own bodies nodding and then turning to retreat into opposite corners of the little building.

*

Chinzee-in-Takara sat on the bed after getting the rest of the clattering armor off of their new body. They knew that things were wrong because the racket of the armor dropping onto the floor didn't get an instant scream of outrage from the other side of the little keep. "Probably trying to figure out how to get the leather off around my tits."

Which only brought them back to the fact that things were odd. And that there was something they had to deal with. A rather pointedly masculine something. Sticking right up between their legs. They couldn't find a comfortable position. The damn balls were so sensitive! Their legs weren't just spread slightly, they were practically split as wide as flexibility would allow.

"Gods damned thing," they snarled, and tried to will it to go down. "Think about something else. Anything else."

Nothing worked. Or at least, nothing they could think of worked. Maybe because any time they tried to close their eyes, all they could feel was the effect of their pulse, making the thick shaft bob slightly.

"How does he live with this," they growled, one hand flicking a hand toward the wall to cast a quick spell of silence. It didn't work. Sharling, Chinzee-in-Takara grabbed it, trying to squeeze it down into submission. Instead, a fat pearl of thick liquid formed at the tip and then started crawling along the underside.

It also made them groan. Instincts took over, grip lessening just a bit, and then without any real conscious decision, started to roll up and down, working more out. As more pre slid down the shaft, the stroking got slicker, and their hips started to rock up into the attention. Chinzee had stroked men off before, and had felt them grind up into her hands more than once, but the new perspective made everything odd. They'd never experienced the effects of that stroking before, and without a frame of reference, the feedback loop started.

Faster both humping into the grip and working that grip up and down, within a few seconds, Chinzee-in-Takara had stood and stumbled over to the wall. Bracing one forearm against the stone, then leaning their head against it, they jerked off furiously, teeth clenched, refusing to moan. Refusing to announce that they were having any kind of pleasure. For once, it wasn't just about them. Their partner could never know. If Takara-in-Chinzee knew, they would never live it down. Neither of the minds would ever be able to even look at each other the same way.

Being utterly silent was impossible. Chinzee-in-Takara's hand snapped to their muzzle, trying to stifle the groan as thick globs of seed blasted out of the tip and spattered onto the wall.

Their weight slumped forward, and the only reason they didn't fall was that their knees were locked. Their hips twitched, tufted tail slid across the back of their calves, their everything felt sensitized. Pushing their hips back, Chinzee-in-Takara didn't count on the extra weight, and staggered back, falling onto the bed. The thick mane cushioned the impact slightly, but not enough to keep them from bellowing a roar of outrage and pain.

*

Takara-in-Chinzee looked down between their legs at the absolute lack of a dick. Or at least, they would have done that, if their eyes weren't constantly being drawn to the breasts that were in the way. Or not... IN the way, they splayed outward and to the sides enough that they didn't block the line of sight.

The view from this angle was so alien. Usually, Takara could see more than just the front part of the folds and the hood of the clitorus. Of course, usually he was over the woman's body, or behind her. Not in her. Or was her.

Takara's mind couldn't really wrap completely around what was going on, either physically or otherwise. They weren't dumb, or at least not dumber than most people. But they were also used to far simpler problems. And the normally physical nature of Takara's existence gave a much better sense of physical space. Or at least it used to.

Now they had these tits (were these always so big?) and a normally larger body was now reduced by a fair bit. They'd not bumped into anything, but had almost fallen off the bed when sitting down after taking the leather pants and boots off. They were expecting to have more of the bed under their hips.

Takara-in-Chinzee flopped onto their side, trying to go to sleep. Trying to ignore the strange reactions their body was having. Surely she didn't get this randy all the time. ... Did she?

It had to be the novelty of how... things... slid together that had them so excited. And the way that hard nipples felt against sheets. They heard a muffled roar from the other side of the keep, and grinned. Served them right. It was Chinzee's fault they were in this situation in the first place. Damn arrogance, not checking for added effects.

They managed to sleep, fitfully, for an hour perhaps. Once awake again though, they were unable to get back to sleep, and not for lack of trying. Their dreams had been... intense.

It wasn't the first dream Takara had experienced about being in bed with Chinzee. It was the first time that Takara had experienced the dream from Chinzee's perspective. And Takara's perspective. Both, and neither. Dreams never made much sense, and neither of the adventurers put much stock in the idea of them being anything significant, in cosmic terms.

What it had done was set this body's desires absolutely ablaze. Rolling onto their belly was a mistake. They now understood why Chinzee had demanded the added cost of enchanting the little pocket fortress to have the more luxurious sheets. The cool, smooth material slid across hard nipples, and it felt so good.

Takara-in-Chinzee moaned softly, drawing their knees forward to pick hips and smouldering mound off of the material. It was a lewd position, and if their partner had seen them like this, Takara-in-Chinzee would have cast themselves into the Pits. And yet, the body seemed to be moving on it's own. Rocking slightly, just enough to add some pressure on the hard pink caps of soft breasts into the sheets.

Takara-in-Chinzee nearly shot upright when they felt the touch of a pair of fingers between their legs. The touch wasn't meant to tease and toy. It was supposed to just test and see what they would find. How wet this new body was. The answer was 'extremely'.

One arm reached forward, grabbing at the pillow to clutch it against their muzzle and muffle the sounds they were making. Urgent, needy sounds. Takara had never made those kinds of sounds during sex. It wasn't who he was.

And yet they were coming out of their throat right now, feeling the brush of two fingers working in small circles, brushing and pinching and caressing and toying. Feeling the new sensation of being filled. Of enjoying it. Of wanting more.

The touch of hands on the feminine folds, the sensation of grinding and scrubbing, of nerves new and... and exciting. There was no other word for it. Exciting. Pleasurable. Two fingers sunk into the entrance, pushing further and further. They knew exactly where to go. Takara-in-Chinzee bit down hard, puncturing the pillow's case as those questing digits found a section in the forward wall of Chinzee's pussy.

Toes drummed into the mattress, and a keening sound filled the room in spite of the pillow's muffling effects. Their thighs clenched, their hamstrings flexed in alternating impulses, kicking at the sheets in a frantic motion that wouldn't be anything other than a random set of beats to anyone who was outside the room. Inside, it was a tattoo of tension released all at once.

Takara-in-Chinzee's legs slid out from under them, knees parting and ending up in yet another, different lewd position. The cool touch of the sheets shocked them, since they hadn't remembered pulling their hand free. It made them buck up once. Looking at the fingers that were coated in proof of the excitement. Of what they had just done.

"Gods dammit."

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This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any characters, living, dead or imaginary is purely a coincidence. All characters are a product of the author's imagination and copyright to them, unless noted guest appearances of other copyrighted characters are listed in this notice. Comments may be left (and are encouraged!) on the author's FurAffinity or SoFurry page. If you liked this story, and wish to support the author, please visit their Patreon.

This story is a work of fiction. Any immoral acts included in this story are a fantasy and should not be taken as encouragement to perform or endorsement of these acts by the author. Specifically, because apparently it needs to be said; anything other than expressed consent for any sexual encounter by a legal unimpaired sentient adult is wrong, immoral, and evil. Unwilling subjugation of sentients who have committed no crime is wrong, immoral, and evil.