Georgie and Her Dragon

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Sahara Kelly

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Cover Art Copyright 2011 Sahara Kelly

Sometimes a writer gets a kernel of a story
idea that just won’t go away and leave them alone. Such was the
case here. And the result, the little unlikely novella you’re about
to read, was one of the most delightful writing experiences.
Laughter, to my mind, is an essential part of life. And with these
characters, I got to pull out all the stops. I still laugh to this
day when I read it. So I dedicate this tiny scrap of absurdity to
those readers who, like me, think a good chuckle is worth its
weight in gold. And to my friends who share my belief on a daily
basis.

I confess that the idea for this fairy tale
originated with what I have long considered to be a grievous
injustice done to women in ancient times. When it comes to the
saints, women had a really rough deal. Take St. Ursula - three
arrows to the chest. St. Catherine? Nasty stuff on a torture wheel.
St. Joan? Medium well. St. Cecilia - boiled and
then
beheaded. The list goes on...

When it comes to the
male
section of
the saint stories, however, things are quite a bit different. St.
Augustine became the first Archbishop of Canterbury. St. Francis
passed away peacefully surrounded by birdsong. St. George slew a
dragon and was rewarded by being made the patron saint of
England.

What’s with the slaying thing, anyway? That
earns George sainthood? Knocking off one of the last of the dragons
without a nod to the “endangered species” list? Sure, the
snacking-on-virgins thing was a nuisance, but was it enough
motivation to destroy an entire species? How the hell many virgins
were there anyway?

Being a liberated woman, I decided it was
time to set the record straight - both on behalf of the women who
lived in that time and also the dragons.

Not all of them were bad, virgin-chomping
brutes. Some weren’t even dragons to begin with...

Once upon a time...

Thus begins all good fairy stories - with a
request to the reader. An invitation to travel to faraway places
and faraway times, or fantastic worlds peopled with equally
unlikely characters. All created in the mind by the words between
the covers.

This story begins with “
Once upon a
time
...” and is followed by the next most-anticipated phrase,
“
there was a beautiful princess...
”

Unfortunately,
this
particular
princess - although beautiful right from the moment of her birth -
wasn’t exactly welcomed by her father the King.

“What?
Another
damn girl?”

“Yes, Sire.” His Seneschal looked
apologetic.

“How many does that make now?”

“Uh...this one’s the thirteenth, Your
Majesty.”

“
Shit
.” The King was not known for
his aristocratic turn of phrase when irritated. It was a constant
trial to the Queen, who was forever trying to get him to watch his
mouth.

He turned to his aide. “Don’t suppose we can
drown this one, can we?”

The man looked shocked. “Absolutely
not
, Sire.”

“
Fuck
.” To give him his due, he did
glance around to make sure the Queen wasn’t within earshot,
although having just given birth that seemed unlikely. “Well,
do
something with her, man. Can’t have an unlucky omen like
that around upsetting the delicate balance of things. Get rid of
her. Banish her. Feed her to those damn elves in the valley.”

He stalked out of his Royal Chambers,
muttering curses aimed at the whole female gender and particularly
his wife’s inability to conceive anything other than women. At the
door he paused. “I know.” He snapped his fingers and two servants
came running.

The King frowned. “No idiots. I wasn’t
calling you, I was just getting a brilliant idea.”

Bowing low, the servants retreated,
chastened by their inability to distinguish summoning snaps of
their King’s fingers from “brilliant idea” snaps.

“Sire?” The Seneschal quirked an eyebrow.
“You had a suggestion?”

“Yep.” He looked smug. “Give her to that
damn
dragon
.”

The Seneschal, being a man of great wisdom,
who rather liked his head just where it was, knew better than to
disobey his Sire when he was in this sort of mood.

So, later that day, he whisked the new babe
from the sleeping Queen’s quarters and unceremoniously dumped her
on a distant rampart of the castle, far away from where everybody
else resided.

Theobald the Unlucky wasn’t amused.

But then again, dragons are not known for
possessing much in the way of a sense of humor.

Yes, Theobald the Unlucky - and we’ll get to
his name in a minute - was one of the few dragons remaining in the
castle environments.

Years before, there had been a squadron of
these creatures, nicely groomed and armed, serving their King with
devotion, fiery breath and a lot of well-rehearsed formation
flying.

But then the current Court Designer had
decreed that “Dragon’s Teeth” jewelry was the
In
accessory
for everybody who wanted to look trendy and a scientist had
simultaneously discovered that ground dragon claws contained an
erection-enhancing aphrodisiac which could be converted into a
little blue pill.

After a short time, during which several
dragons had tottered around lisping and trying desperately
to gum their favorite
snacks while their clawless feet tripped over things, it was
universally decided by the Dragon’s Local 151 (Fire-Breathing
Entity Division) that perhaps now was as good a time as any to
negotiate a new contract with another kingdom.

They’d departed without regret, leaving only
a few of the weakest behind as a token gesture to the current
administration. Said administration promptly executed the Court
Designer, outlawed the little blue pill and placed the remaining
dragons on the “don’t touch or you’ll die a nasty death” list.

There had been four of them still in
residence - until a young man named Theobald got unlucky.

Yes, although young men usually prefer to
get
lucky
, Theobald was always a little behind everybody
else. His pimples emerged a year later than his peers, rendering
him ineligible date material for the Barnyard Prom. He was a tad
shortsighted, not very tall and actually had nothing to recommend
him to the opposite sex. Which was sad, since the opposite sex
occupied most of his thought processes at that age. Something he
did
have in common with his peers.

Theobald had heard whispers of loose women
who would - ahem -
do things
with young men, provided they
carried enough spare coins. Being a curious and fundamentally
healthy lad, Theo worked hard, saved up his coins and one eventful
Friday evening he sneaked out of his room, down the drainpipe, over
the pigsty roof and off to find - heaven.

Which, in his fervid imagination, lay
between the sweet whiteness of a woman’s thighs.

His cock was already half-erect by the time
he’d cleared the pigsty and hard enough to hammer nails by the time
he’d reached the outskirts of the village and the “house” where
he’d heard the women resided.

They may have resided there, but they wanted
naught to do with a pimply adolescent who had scarcely two silver
shillings to his name. He was told - rather bluntly - to go jerk
himself off and buy some fruit with his money, since that was about
all he could afford.

Dejected - and still with a painful hard-on
- Theobald turned for home. And this is when Fate, in the guise of
a wickedly horny fairy with a rotten headache, took a hand in this
story and christened him “Unlucky”.

“Helloooo? What
is
the matter, dear
lad?”

Theo stopped at the sound of a musical voice
and blinked as an apparition materialized before him. Slender and
naked, the fairy fluttered sensually around him, letting him absorb
the beauty of her breasts and the flawless milk-white skin of her
thighs. “Do you like what you see?”

Coyly she lifted her bosom and toyed with
her nipples.

Theo, throat clogged with approximately
matching lumps of fear and lust, nodded. “Uh...”

Delicate fairy hands drifted downward to
play with her pussy, eventually parting the folds and showing him
her fairy clit too. “How about this?”

By now, Theo was approaching the final
stages of a volcano about to erupt. His cock, demanding equal time,
pushed past the flimsy ties of his breeches and took a
long
- er -
hard
look at the fairy’s assets. He could barely nod,
afraid that if he moved his neck more than two centimeters his
balls would explode with a pyroclastic flow that might obliterate
several villages down the hill.

Sparkling wings fluttered. “Well, come on
then.”

To his astonishment, the fairy lay down in
the soft grass and spread her thighs wide, beckoning him to lie
between them.

Unable to resist her enchanting body, Theo
lunged for her, not considering the niceties of lovemaking, but
listening only to his inner voice screaming “
find a hole”.
His pants tangled around his ankles making him stumble. He landed
with his cock just touching the fairy pussy that had so delighted
him, but before he could sink into her glowing cunt, he lost
it.

Hot jets of come spurted over the fairy,
soaking her thoroughly. “Eeeeuwwww. You
disgusting
boy.”

Dazed, Theo stared at her, all soft and
shiny and glittering where his seed dappled her belly. “You’re so
pretty.”

She frowned. “I was until you - you -
schputzed
on me.” Her tone was petulant.

“
Schputzed
?”

“Yes, you idiot.
You
weren’t supposed
to
come
- just play with me, give me fabulous oral sex and
make
me
come. Then I grant you a wish and get rid of my
headache at the same time. Don’t you know
anything
?”

Theo shook his head, wondering if this was
all a bad dream. “Um...sorry.”

The fairy squinted at him, curling her lip.
She didn’t look quite so pretty when she did that, and Theo
suddenly remembered the old saying about “never piss off - or fuck
with - a fairy.”

It looked rather awfully as if he’d done
both.

“That’s the
last
time I try and get a
little from a human, you
dolt
.” She was clearly pissed off.
“This is the last straw in what has been, without doubt, the worst
day of my life.”

Theo opened his mouth to point out that his
day hadn’t been all ice-cream and merriment either, but he didn’t
get the chance.

“You’re an oaf. And not a very good-looking
oaf. I think I should spare the local females from having to deal
with someone who can’t keep his dick corked. And a good spell will
probably get rid of my headache.” Her wings fluttered violently and
Theo took a tentative step backward.

“Henceforth, you unlucky sod, you will no
longer be a human idiot, you’ll be a...a...” She narrowed her eyes
for a moment in intense thought, then looked up with a nasty grin.
“Got it.
Lout thou art, dragon shalt thou be
.”

“Wait...” Theo coughed as a whoosh of fairy
dust zoomed up his nostrils and then gaped at the rather unusual
sensation caused by his ass elongating into a scaled tail. “Isn’t
there supposed to be some sort of undoing spell? You can’t do this
to me
forever
...”

The fairy considered his words pensively,
while Theo’s back busily produced two rather large wings and threw
him off balance. He toppled over.

“Hoookay. Here’s the deal. If you can find a
woman who’ll do the nasty in front of you
while you watch,
then you get to return to human form.” She snickered. “That oughta
do it. Don’t think too many females want to get naked and hit high
C in front of a butt-ugly
dragon
.” Her smirk didn’t do a
damn thing for her looks.

“Oh, there is the usual
you-can’t-tell-anybody-or-you’ll-be-a-dragon-forever
type
clause.” Then she lifted her eyebrows. “Hey. Guess what? It worked.
No headache. Thanks - bye-bye.”