A knight errant helps a damsel in distress

“Help! Help!” Sir Bedevier heard the distant call as
his palfrey clopped over the rocky soil.

“Who could be alive in this seer wilderness?” he
thought to himself as he swung toward the sound, his
travel armor clashing as he moved. He came over a
rise and his eyes widened with amazement. There, on a
rocky headland, within an ornate metal frame well
over ten feet high, with the body of a naked girl.
The chains holding her arms and legs spread-eagled
were well padded, as though to minimize any pain she
might feel. But why was she here? Where were her
people?

Sir Bedevier guided his horse down the narrow track
to the location of the structure. It was really
finely done. Wrought iron carefully painted to resist
the salt air of the nearby sea, and inset with many
gems: carbuncle, amber, coral, jade and lapis. He
turned his eye to the frame’s captive who hung
sagging, supported by silvery chains. She looked
exhausted. Her face was sallow, and her hair hung
limply around her head. Her arms and legs shook with
exhaustion. “Help me! Oh, please! Help me,” she
begged.

“M’lady, I shall,” he said with knightly resolve. He
dismounted, and taking his broadsword from its
sheath, attempted to cut through the shackles. The
sword had no effect on the metal and the girl cried
at the pain that the striking caused to her stretched
limbs. “I cannot cut through,” Sir B said gruffly.
“Are the links ensorcelled?”

“Yes,” the girl replied. “Only the dragon can break
them.”

“Dragon?” Sir B looked nervously over his shoulder
toward the crashing waves. Turning back, he shook his
head in wonderment. “M’lady, why come you hence? What
is the purpose of this bizarre practice?”

“My village has left me to die! I am the sacrifice to
the dragon!” she howled as tears coursed down her
face, wetting the trails of prior Laocoinial
emissions.

“M’lady, please!” Sir B interjected. “I am here. I am
a knight. I shall save you!”

“There is no hope for me.” She shook her head sadly.
“My fate is sealed.”

“What fate is that?”

“Once each year, we chose a virgin to sacrifice to
the worm,” she said, as though reciting a long
remembered story. She shook her hair back, revealing
her face. If she had not been crying and were cleaned
up, Sir B opined, she would be quite fetching. “This
time, it was me.”

“Dastards!” Sir B shouted gruffly. Then he looked
thoughtful. “But, M’lady, why were you chosen?”

“My fianci died in an accident the day before our
marriage! I am considered to be bad luck!” she
sobbed. Sir B nodded. He could see the logic of that.

“But what is this rite? To sacrifice a human to an
ungodly beast! It shall not be!” The knight turned
his back to the girl and raised his sword in
challenge.

“You cannot best him,” she murmured to his back. “He
is unkillable. The only hope is…”

The knight turned back to her. “Whatever is needed,
that I shall perform!” he said proudly, his off-hand
pounding his chest. The girl looked up at him with a
calculating expression on her face.

“My only hope is… that you fuck me!” she said with
a half-smile. His jaw dropped!

“But M’lady, how would that…?” And he smiled under
his mustache and beard. “I see! No longer a
virgin…?”

“No longer a sacrifice,” she replied.

“But M’lady, how?” He looked around as though seeking
a bed or at least private place.

“How else? You can see I am well spread.” His eyes
drifted down to her splayed legs. Her nether lips
were stretched wide and gapped pinkly in the bright
sunlight. She bent her knees back, spreading herself
wider, but winced. “Can you… Will you lubricate me?
The winds have made me as dry as a husk.”

“As my lady commands.” Sir B dropped to his knees and
crawled forward until he was below her body. He
hacked and coughed. The girl gave him a sour look,
but lifted her face to the sky as his tongue touched
her sex. He stuck it inside and licked around her
opening.

“Oh, yes, Carl,” she said. Sir B nodded. So that was
her fianci’s name. She may be a virgin, but she had
not been unloved. As her rescuer he obviously had
some pleasurable times past to live up to. He
continued to answer her call. Her gaunt body gave him
full access to her deprived female parts. Her tissues
warmed to his actions and soon she was pressing
anxiously down against him. He lipped her carefully,
aware that she was probably tender as well as dry.
Even after she had recovered within, and he could
detect some internally generated moisture, he lapped
and sucked warily until she lovingly let down the
sweetest nectar he had ever known, in many years of
roving.

The girl hung limp now, stress no longer evident in
her thin frame. Sir B released his personal weapon
from its protective sheath under his armor and chain
mail, can’t be too careful with the family package,
he knew, and revealed a long lance that would have
made any knight proud. The girl’s eyes bulged. “My
god, maybe I’ll take the dragon!”

“T’would not be right, M’lady,” the knight said as he
carefully aligned his shaft and sited it to its new
home. “Errant knights must always be ready to mount
and thrust at a moment’s notice. Prepare for the
plunge.”

The girl tried to scream, but could only manage a
gurgle as he drove it in. She sighed with relief as
the shaft withdrew but when it was resheathed, she
resigned herself to the joust. Back and forth it
went, giving first relief, to be followed by
distress, but then his chain mail weskit rode up over
his piece until it came into contact with her tender
swollen nubbin. Again and again it touched that magic
spot until she felt all soft and yielding inside.

“‘Tis like this, M’lady,” Sir B said as he held
himself close to her, “with dragons there must be no
possibility of misunderstanding.” She could not tell
what he meant, but immediately her inner tissues were
bathed with his hot lather, and she exploded into
another sizzling paroxysm of muscular contractions
and searing joy.

“No, of course not,” she sighed.

The knight bent his knees, lowering his loins until
he unsaddled. The girl looked down to see his angry
weapon, still vertically rampant and challengingly
tight against his body armor. She blew it a kiss.
“And we must be complete, or you may be undone,” he
said as he walked behind her. She looked fearfully
over her shoulder.

“But what…?” she asked as his rampant weapon
positioned itself at her widely spread ass crack,
with its tip against her rosy bull’s-eye. “Exactly,”
the knight confirmed with a nod.

“No! I don’t…”

“Sorry, we can’t take a chance.” The questing point
probed her exposed vent. It pushed in, opening her
just a little. She grunted in pain.

“It hurts,” she squeaked, but did not repeat her
earlier objection.

“Life is pain, my dear,” Sir B said into her ear, but
he lowered his hips and returned his rod temporarily
to her dripping store. Having wetted it thoroughly
again, he returned it to its quest.

“Oh,” she said as he gained significant presence,
stretching her around him and gliding up inside. He
pulled the gauntlet off of his right hand, reached
down between her legs, and carried more of her
leaking emissions back up, spreading them along the
length of his shaft. He rolled her clit between his
thumb and fingers, eliciting a mew of curiosity.

“Here,” he said as he inserted a few more inches. She
pushed back with some interest as if to see… “Now
stay with me,” as his slick love instrument delved
into her depths. She had thought that she was sated
but this new feeling had her awake and riding back on
him as much as he was riding her. His leather-palmed
hands embraced and tweaked her solid small breasts
and squeezed her hard tipped tits to attention. Her
hips seemed squeezed up tight as though what was
happening to her backside was happening everywhere in
her loins. When he commenced rhythmically dilating
her nether hole with his thumping delivery, the beats
transferred to her priorly active female organs and
she came again, even more strongly than before, as
though to make up for the strange way she was being
inspired. Afterwards she hung, replete.

“Ah, oh,” the knight said as the sound of leathery
wings cut through the salty air. He looked over the
girl’s shoulder as a flapping red and black form
expanded out of the light blue sky. Soon the dragon
stood on the shale, picking its nose.

“I see I am a few minutes too late,” it said,
sniffing the air. “She is clearly a virgin no
longer.”

“Begone, you beast,” said Sir B, circling out from
behind the girl, tying up his kilt and grabbing his
sword at the same time. “She is not yours to have!”

“I think I am the judge of that,” said the dragon.
“After all, her village gave her to me.”

“But she is no longer a virgin. I have seen to that.”
The knight raged, “And if you do not leave, I shall
see to you as well.”

“So what if she is not a virgin? The village has
given me many such. Mostly, I am sure, they did know
the condition of their gift, but I never held that
against them.”

“So you will devour a non-chaste offering?” The
knight looked puzzled. “Then why…?”

“Devour? It is a lovely word, but I rarely eat flesh,
and especially, I do not eat human flesh. No, such a
thing could never happen. Unfortunately, we dragons
are irreparably linked to humans, not for food, but
for procreation.”

“You mean?” the knight looked stunned.

“Yup. We don’t eat them, we fuck them.”

“So the requirement that she be a virgin is valid!”
Sir B shouted. “Stand thee and fight!”

“Oh, give me a break,” the dragon replied. “I think
you are talking about the sacrifice I gave back about
50 years ago. The poor thing must have been seven
month’s pregnant. I returned her because I was
worried about her.”

“I don’t understand,” the knight lowered his sword a
little.

“Look, dragons and human are symbiotic,” he saw the
blank look on the knight’s countenance. “That means
that dragons cannot live without humans. The first
problem is that dragons are all of the male sex.
There are no female dragons.”

“But how…?” the knight’s head swam. He was
remembering a late night at the tavern and the good
looking squire on the bench before him. Such a good
looking squire! Maybe?

“No, not like that,” said the dragon, who could
obviously read minds. “Here, this is how it works.
The village gives me a girl. Sometimes she is a
virgin.” The dragon waddled up to the girl in chains.
“Then I take this…” He reached down and opened a
flap in his scaled belly. A soft column of leathery
flesh appeared and lay against his form. “Then I
stroke it like this.” The dragon’s horny hands coaxed
the exposed flesh to stiffness. Soon it was about a
cubit long and a couple of thumbs in diameter. It was
white in color, but with a shiny blush of promising
life. The tip was small, however, almost like a
needle, about two inches long. It was the strangest
cock the knight had ever seen.

“Then I insert it like this,” as the girl watched in
wordless wonder, the dragon pushed it up inside her
well-stretched female form. It sited smoothly. “Now,
I have to get the tip into her womb,” he said moving
it around experimentally. The girl let out a gasp and
hunched her hips up. The dragon moved a few inches
forward and stopped. He sighed with satisfaction.
“Like that.”

“Why?” the knight said. He didn’t understand half of
what he was seeing, but he was totally fascinated
nonetheless.

“For the egg. Dragons hatch from eggs, but we don’t
actually mate with human women, we just need them to
carry the egg until it is ready to hatch, which is
usually nine months from creation.”

“So they don’t have to be virgin?”

“No, but if they are already pregnant, there may be
some interference between the fetus and the egg, so I
don’t take girls that are very far along. Generally
it is no worse than delivering twins, but why take a
chance?”

“So you are…?”

“Yes, I am about to make an egg in this girl. Notice
that my penis expands to about three inches in
diameter and turns somewhat yellow.” The girl looked
down and groaned. “That is the egg making material.
It takes me about half an hour to create an egg in
her womb. Even if you have made her pregnant, that
will not be a problem. She will deliver both the baby
and the egg at the same time.”

“So you don’t eat them?”

“Cum’on. I said I rarely eat animal flesh. No, but I
will bite through the chains and take the girl back
to my castle. She will live with me until she
delivers the egg. There is a village outside the
walls where she can live after she gives me my son.”

“So how many offspring do you have?”

“I have been making eggs for 110 years, but I only
have 5 children. Dragon children are stupid and not
very attractive. They smell bad to their parents and
have many fatal accidents, especially learning to
fly. That is how we keep our population down.”

The knight looked up at the girl. Her lower belly was
inflating roundly as the dragon fashioned its egg in
her. “So what happens if I’ve given her a baby?”

“Unlikely, but she can raise it in our village. They
are not as unsophisticated as the one she was born
in.”

The three watched in silence as the dragon’s
substance slowly expanded the girl’s womb. Soon her
belly was fully stretched, circular and tight. The
dragon withdrew, returning his member to its place,
and bit the chains in twain, supporting the girl with
his forepaws. He turned her around and lifted her up
onto his boney shoulders.

“M’lady.” The knight bowed low to his mounted
mistress. “What do you want me to do?”

“I am fine,” the girl said, cradling her now rounded
belly. “An hour ago I thought I was about to die a
horrible death. And then I met you and you introduced
me to what it is like to be alive again. You taught
me how to function as a woman. Of course, I would
wish for some clothes, but I shall go now with the
dragon to his castle. Maybe I will have our baby, or
maybe not. In any case I have a reason to live for
the next nine months. That is more than I had when my
fiancie died. A reason to live is all that anyone can
ask. I thank you, most noble knight. I am free and I
am happy.”

“That is indeed all anyone can ask for,” Sir B
replied. “My mission here is done.” Sir B. mounted
his horse and rode away, content.

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