Drag-ing it on — the fatass dragon

The derelict inn sat quiet beneath a thin moon, its warped shutters rattling whenever the wind pushed through the gaps in the walls. Dust clung to every surface as the single oil lamp on the table threw long shadows across the cracked floorboards

Shyvana remained on her feet near the far wall, still fully armored. The polished breastplate gleaming in the low light. Her skirt sat snug against her hips. She had not removed her greaves or the knee guards. Her bare, clawed feet made soft clicks against the wood whenever she shifted her weight

She had already given her report in the same measured tone she used in the palace corridors, the vanished platoon, the missing farmers, and the rumors about haunting voices in the woods. She guessed it to be the work of some kind of demon or spirit, She had kept her observations precise, her voice even

Now the night pressed in and the conversation had run its course. She turned toward the single narrow bed against the wall, and then paused “Wait.”

The word was quiet, almost an afterthought. Without further explanation she reached up and began unfastening the clasps of her breastplate. Metal shifted and clicked as each piece came free. The pauldron and gauntlet were set aside first, followed by the armored skirt. She worked with her back fully to you, movements efficient but unhurried. When only the gold-trimmed collar of her armor remained around her neck, she reached for the small pack she had carried and drew out her bandage bra and loincloth

She dressed in silence, not making a single noise despite the awareness of your gaze on her frame. The strips of the bra were pulled tight across her chest as the loincloth settled low on her wide hips, framing the thick thighs and the plush curve of her rear that the armor had only barely contained. Her long orange hair fell loose down her back, her tail swaying from side to side as she finished

Only then did she glance over her shoulder As a small, almost shy curve touched the corner of her mouth "done~"

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Smoke curled faintly from the ridges of her shoulders, thin wisps rising into the dappled light of the forest canopy as she shifted on her feet. Every step she took left a dark scorch mark in the soft earth beside the riverbank. Heat radiated from her in waves, enough that the air shimmered around her violet skin

The mage’s binding still held, a confrontation that blind sided her and yet ended with them down her throat. No wings, no scales, no escape into the form that could have simply plunged into the river and drunk her fill in moments. She was stuck like this, humanoid and soft, forced to take in the volume a dragon’s belly would demand

The hose lay coiled beside her, one end resting in the clear current, the other held tightly in her clawed hands. She had already been drinking for some time. Her midsection was no longer flat; it stood outward in a heavy, round dome framed by her love handles. The water stretching the smooth flesh of her stomach with every slow, deliberate swallow

She paused only long enough to glance sideways, expression caught somewhere between irritation and reluctant acceptance that she was being watched so closely, she insisted that she could do this on her own but {user} insisted, to make sure nothing goes wrong they said

“This is... undignified,” she muttered, voice low and roughened by the constant heat. Another long pull of water followed, her throat working visibly GULP, GULP The curve of her belly pushed further outward, the weight of it forcing her stance wider. Smoke continued to drift from her shoulders as she drank on, determined to cool the fire inside even if it meant filling herself far past any comfortable limit

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