Georgie and Her Dragon (3 page)

“
Really
?” Theo’s eyes opened
wide.

“No, I’m making this shit up as I go along.”
Dandelion huffed a smoke ring from one nostril. “Of
course
,
you fucking
twit
. You didn’t come all this way for
fun
, did you?”

Theo shut his mouth and shook his head.

“So listen up. Someplace there’s a human
you’ve got a mind link with. You’re getting into its dreams. Sounds
like they’re girly dreams, so I figure it’s gotta be a female. And
the odds are pretty good it’s a princess. This is a frickin’
fairy tale
ya know.” He sighed. “Lucky you. I wouldn’t say
no to a bit of tart in
my
dreams now and again...”

Theo cleared his throat. “So what do I do
about it?”

“Do?” Dandelion shook his head, dislodging
more hair. “There’s nothing you
can
do. You’re stuck with
her. You gotta protect her, do what she says, go where she goes,
carry her on your back if she wants...” He snickered. “Kind of like
being married except without the sex.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Oh
swell
.” He
was never going to get laid at this rate, nor was he ever going to
find his freedom. “So I’m destined for a life as a fire-breathing
puppy for some dipshit female with delusions of grandeur who does
nothing but practice a royal wave of her hand.”

“Don’t take it hard, lad.” Dandelion looked
sympathetic. “It’s a gift. A rare gift. Hasn’t happened in...” He
counted silently, ran out of claws, then shrugged. “Well, it hasn’t
happened in a long time.” A wise eye raked over Theo. “Gotta be a
reason for it.”

Theo sighed. “You know something, old dude?
I’m pretty fucking sick of all this mystical magic and legend shit.
If I could’ve kept my dick in my britches I’d still be there now,
herding cows or something, instead of becoming a frickin’
dragon.”

Dandelion’s eyebrows rose. “Sounds like you
fucked with a fairy, kid.”

Theo wrinkled his nostrils. “How did you
guess? Of course, I didn’t
tell
you that or it nullifies
clause seventeen in the spell or something.” Theo’s voice was
morose. “All I wanted was a bit of nookie, you know?”

“It comes with a high price, lad. Sometimes
too high a price.” Dandelion stretched, a bone-cracking reach of
claws and tail. “Like I said, there’s gotta be a reason for it.
Maybe it’ll help you get your freedom back. Sure as shit you
weren’t meant to be a dragon.”

Theo bridled at that, flexing his muscles.
“You don’t think so? Personally, I figure I’m doing okay at
it.”

The older dragon chuckled. “Yeah. If you
want your bod all over some romance novel cover.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Theo was
affronted.

“Nothin’. Nothin’ at all. But you’re a
real
dragon, boy. Not a
cover model
for a dragon.
They
never get the heroine, do they? Usually all they get
for their hard work is a sword up the ass from some overbearing
schmuck in a tin suit with a grudge against dragons who thinks he’s
gonna get into the pants of the heroine by slaying one.”

Dandelion settled down once more. “Look, if
I were you, I wouldn’t worry too much about this whole linking
thing. Sounds like you got a few years yet before anything too
exciting is gonna happen since you’re still at the naked doll
stage. Let it go for a bit and see where you end up.” He snuffled a
little. “Nothing gained by rushing into anything.”

Theo realized that Dandelion probably hadn’t
rushed into anything for several centuries, so he filed this piece
of wisdom under “
yeah right
”.

Disconsolate, Theo headed home. He had
received assurances that he wasn’t a crazily mixed-up sexual
pervert, which certainly went into the “plus” column. In addition,
he’d apparently developed a link with a human - something that
hadn’t happened in untold ages. Another thing for the “plus”
column.

It didn’t, however, involve the chance of
meeting any female dragons and getting laid. A large entry into the
“minus” column. And it didn’t - at the moment anyway - seem to
exhibit any signs of breaking the spell cast upon him.

Which pretty much sent the “minus” column
into overload and Theo’s spirits plummeting into his boots. Or
where he would have been wearing boots if he wasn’t a dragon.

Tiredly, he flew back to his roost and moped
in the familiarity of his own nest. Life, not to put too fine a
point on it, sucked. He was destined to be at the beck and call of
some royal no-brainer who played with dolls. He’d never regain his
human form, and - worst of all - he’d never get any decent sex to
speak of.

With this miserable conclusion uppermost in
his mind, Theo dozed off.

Only to dream again, but this time not of
dolls or birthday parties.

This time, he dreamed of
Princess
School
.

The real skinny about Princess School...

“
Georgiana
! The point of this
exercise is to lift your skirts so that you don’t trip, not treat
the entire world to the sight of your twat. Try for a little
decorum, will you?”

Sure, wart face
. At eighteen,
Georgiana was forced to admit that she was a bloody failure in most
of the formal “Princess” classes. Truth was, she hated every
fucking
one of ‘em.

She’d pulled a D+ in
Curtseying
,
barely passing by the skin of her teeth and with knees that were
bruised continually during finals week.
Waving and Smiling
(
from moving carriages and stationary balconies - practical
demonstration required
) hadn’t gone much better, but she’d
managed a B minus because the instructor had liked her hair and
she’d shared her shampoo tips.

But
this
course,
Swanning and
Swooping Around in Formal Couture
, might well be beyond her.
For the sad truth was that Princess Georgiana, the thirteenth
daughter of the King, was a tomboy at heart and would rather be out
in the fields practicing with a sword or her archery set. The one
she’d conned off a stable lad by flashing him a quick glimpse of
her budding breasts.

Said breasts did, occasionally, get in the
way of her shooting skills, especially since they seemed to be
expanding on a daily basis, but screw it. She’d rather shoot a
target than have cleavage any day. She ignored them.

Or managed to, most of the time.

Of course, when they were thrust up under
her nose and partially revealed by a monstrosity of a gown, things
looked a little different. She couldn’t see her toes for a start,
and how the fucking hell she was supposed to elegantly slither
around without tripping when
those things
were protruding
front and center, she had no clue.

However, she wasn’t above using them to get
what she wanted - hence the bow and arrows and a large grin on the
face of the stable boy.

Thoughtfully she traipsed up and down the
long schoolroom, shoving the yells of the teacher into the dark
recesses of her mind. Recently, she’d begun having -
feelings
. Odd feelings, that got stronger and odder when she
was laced into gowns like this with her tits held firmly from
beneath by boning and stiff fabric.

She found she rather liked the sensation of
something rubbing her nipples. It made her feel - funny - down
between her legs. She made a mental note to check back with the
stable boy. She wanted her sword sharpened, and perhaps he could
provide both the whetstone and a couple of answers to some
questions she had.

Thankfully, she’d aced her educational
courses, and gotten a free time block for herself when everybody
else was slaving over geometry. That, she liked. Also literature.
She’d devoured all the books she’d been given, simply complaining
that there weren’t enough that dealt with important stuff.

Like sex.

Because, as is the way with all girls -
princesses or not - the male of the species was starting to occupy
more and more of her thoughts.

Research
, thought Georgiana to
herself.
Any scholar worthy of the name does research
. Time
to pay a visit to the stables.

Unlacing the detested gown, Georgie slipped
into breeches and a tunic, grabbed her sword and strode the
half-mile over the school grounds to the stables. She did not take
ladylike steps, of course, nor did she wave to anybody she
passed.

Nope, this was a Princess on a mission. She
was going to do some sex research and get her sword sharpened at
the same time.

As she’d hoped, Tom the stable lad was hard
at work. He stopped shoveling manure when he saw her come in and
just got
hard
.

Grinning, Georgie stared at his crotch.
“Gonna let me see
that
, then?” She nodded at the bulge.

He thrust his hips forward, emphasizing it.
“Dunno. What you gonna let me see?”

This was, of course,
outrageous
, both
in content and innuendo. Georgie was a princess of the realm and
Tom a mere stable hand. But boys will be boys, and Tom - for all
his horny nature - had never ratted her out.

“You can see my tits again if you want.”

Tom thought about this. “I want to see your
pussy too.”

“Hmm. You’ll have to sharpen my sword as
well if you want that, or else no deal.”

It should be noted that the course
Negotiating Treaties with Foreign Powers
had been a source
of huge enjoyment to Georgiana and was one of the ones she’d
managed to achieve straight As in.

“I dunno about that. Someone might need the
whetstone. I’ll have to clean it afterwards.” Tom stroked his chin
thoughtfully.

“Okay.” Georgie tipped her head to one side.
“Here’s the deal. You can see my tits
and
my pussy. You get
to
touch
my tits. I get to see your -
thing
- and you
sharpen my sword afterward. How’s that?”

Tom took about five seconds to decide, then
spat in his hand and held it out. “Done.”

Georgie spat in hers and they solemnly shook
hands on the deal. “Now wash that off before you touch me, okay? I
can’t afford muddy streaks on my tits when I bathe tonight.”

“‘Kay.” Tom did as he was bid.

Unself-consciously, Georgie stripped off her
tunic and bared her breasts as Tom wiped his hands on a cloth. “You
might want to wipe your mouth too, Tom.” She giggled at him.
“You’re drooling.”

Tom swallowed and nodded at her breeches.
“Now them.”

“You first.” Ever the negotiator, Georgie
wasn’t going to be done out of her side of the deal.

Her jaw dropped as Tom opened his pants and
she saw his - thing - for the first time. Hard and red, it wobbled
at her, thrusting from a dark nest of curling hair. Just beneath
she could make out a sort of sac arrangement, and she dredged up
the minimal information she’d unearthed in an old biology text
book.

His balls! Good God.

“So you like my cock?” Tom stroked it
lovingly for a moment or two.

“Uh, yeah. Nice cock, Tom. Very nice
indeed.” She stared, entranced as the tiny eye at the tip glittered
with a drop of moisture.

“Now you.” Tom stood, arms akimbo, cock
erect, waiting for his own part of the bargain.

“Uh...sure.” Without hesitation Georgie - a
princess of her word - dropped her britches and stood, virtually
naked, in front of Tom.

Who gaped. “
Fucking sheeeit
.” His
eyes bugged wide and almost absently he reached downwards for his
cock.

“Um...aren’t you going to touch my tits?”
Georgie found herself aching in strange places, mostly in the area
that Tom was staring at with an almost unnerving intensity.

“Huh?”

Tom was clearly involved with something now,
something personal that involved the sight of her pussy, his cock
and his hand.

Georgie sighed. “My
tits
, you dork.
You were supposed to touch my
tits
...” Strange sensations
welled up inside her as she considered the idea of his hands on her
breasts. Her nipples beaded into nubs and moisture began to flow
over her thighs. Without giving it much thought, she parted her
legs to let it dry.

Tom moaned as he played with his cock, vague
eyes glued now to her pussy.

“Well, this is lots of fun and
not real
helpful, asshole
...”

He grunted, oblivious to anything but her
body. And then the oddest thing happened. Before Georgie’s
fascinated gaze Tom’s face contorted, his hand spasmed around his
cock and it...it...sort of
erupted
.

Jets of white stuff spurted from the end and
Tom coughed out an odd sound, something like a cross between a sob
and a groan. Then his cock withered and softened back into not much
of anything at all.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Georgie stared at
what was now nothing more than a small set of male genitals. “So
that’s what it’s all about.”

She looked at Tom who had the grace to look
embarrassed. “I’ll touch your tits now, if you want.” His tone was
hopeful.

Georgie backed away a step and pulled up her
pants. “I don’t think so, but thanks anyway. You sort of bypassed
that part of the deal.” Shrugging into her tunic she nodded at her
sword. “But that still needs sharpening.”

“Okay.” Looking a bit flustered, Tom
fastened his breeches and began to put a nice new edge on her
blade. “Look, Georgie...I...”

She held up her hand. “Not a word, Tom. From
either of us. We promised, remember?”

He nodded and looked relieved but
somber.

“It’s not that I’m a snob or anything, you
understand...” Georgie felt some explanation was due. “I just don’t
want all the other princesses down here hoping for an eyeful of
that splendid cock of yours.” She looked at him in what she hoped
was an admiring fashion.