Get Nightwing some clothes

"The first thing we should do is get you some clothes," you announce, your eyes casting over her form as you do.

{if@ Nightwing thinks you're a pervert == true}"Do not look at me like that, ****."{elseif Nightwing thinks you're a prude == true}"You're still uncomfortable around me? Hmph. As my ****, I suggest you get used to it."{endif}

You stop in place, and stare at her with a frown. "Hold up - did you just say... ****?"

Nightwing returns the frown. "Of course. What did you think you were?"

You blink a few times, not really sure how to answer. Eventually, you're able to inform her that your impression was that you were just two people, helping each other out.

"Hah! You would dare think yourself my equal?" Nightwing sneers at you. "You are a human. You are basically nothing before me. Of course you're my ****."

"But you said you wanted me to assist you," you protest. "You didn't say I'd be your ****!"

"Yes, I did. I said we were bound by a magical contract, and that you would be loyal to me. It's common knowledge that that means you're my ****."

"Common knowledge to dragons, yeah! But I'm just a human - I never learned that shit!" You turn around, your head in your hands. What did you get yourself into...?

"Well, no matter your feelings on the matter, you are inextricably bound to me." Nightwing crosses her arms on her chest. "So, perhaps you should focus on the task at hand, and procure a set of clothing for me to wear."

The look in her eyes informs you that there is no room for discussion. Before her, you feel...small.

You quickly head into your room and pull together a few things, focusing on the task at hand to distract yourself from that... disturbing revelation. You're rather proud of what you're able scrap together using just some of your clothes, and the basic sewing kit you keep in your room.

You head back to Nightwing with the makeshift clothes, and explain each to her in turn.

The underwear, pants, and socks are self explanatory, so you don't spend much time on them. However, your had to alter a shirt a bit, cutting it down the back and turning the section you cut away into strips for tying it shut. It makes room for her wings.

You don't have a bra, as you don't wear bras and all the ones your mother used to wear are far too small. However, with how firm and perky her breasts seem to be, you doubt she needs much support.

You lay them out in front of her, and turn around to give her some privacy. Not that it's been a concern for her until now, but you figure you may as well start.

"Aren't you going to help me?"

Oh, she probably means with the straps on her back. You turn around and -

Wait.

Why is she still naked?

You ask as much, and she scoffs at you. "I've already told you, I've never worn human clothes before. I don't know how to put them on. I require your assistance, ****."

You swallow nervously. "Do...do I have to?"

Nightwing narrows her eyes at you, and you can feel a sudden compulsion to obey. You struggle against it, more in fear than defiance, and in a moment, it's gone.

You look up at Nightwing, and for a split second she seems surprised. She quickly regains her composure, however.

"Did you feel that? That's what it means to be my ****. I won't be so lenient with you next time - so you'd best do as I say!"

You simply nod, hoping to avoid that sensation again. It definitely wasn't pleasant.

You start with the underwear, blushing as you approach her with it in your hands. You look away from her, unwilling to make eye contact.

You explain to her how to put on the underwear, and you hold it out for her legs to go into the holes. Mercifully, she steps into them quickly, but it still results in her crotch being uncomfortably close to your face.

As soon as both legs are in the underwear, you turn to-

"Are you not going to pull them up my legs?"

You freeze. Your blood is cold as ice, and you swear you can taste copper on your tongue, almost as if you had bitten it.

"Wh...what?"

"You cannot simply do half a job, ****. Complete it."

"C-couldn't you do it?"

"I could, but I'm telling you to do it."

You swallow again, turning to give her the most pleading expression you can. "P...please do it?" You ask, hopefully.

{if@ Nightwing thinks you're a pervert==true}"What, do you enjoy watching women clothe themselves? I won't give you the satisfaction. {elseif Nightwing thinks you're a prude == true}"You must learn to be more comfortable around me - you are my ****, after all. You will likely have to perform duties similar to this in the future, and I expect nothing less than perfection. {endif} Now, come here, and finish dressing me, ****!"

You swallow, your mouth dry as a desert. You have to admit to yourself that it's...kind of exciting.

You'll never let it show in front of her, however. She's still a dragon, and you're, like she said, her ****.

So, you try your best to ignore the allure of her body as you kneel down and pull up the underwear, your hands barely grazing against her legs as you do. You try to keep your contact to a minimum, fearful of what she would do.

You pull them up past her knees without issue, but once you get almost all the way up, you notice that it's going to require some more...hands-on efforts.

The elastic is already starting to stretch, but now that you've reached the bottom of her firm behind, you've realized that it's going to take some effort to get the underwear over the crest of her butt.

"Uh..." You step back, blushing intensely.

"Is it done? They're all the way up?" Nightwing inspects them, with an earnest curiosity that you have to admit is...kind of cute.

"N-no," you stammer. "They're a bit small on you - you'll have to pull them a bit harder to get them all the way up..."

Nightwing narrows her eyes at you. "What do you mean, I'll have to pull harder? If you're not done yet, then finish the job!"

"B-but - it's a bit...inappropriate," you explain to her. "I'd have to...to...touch you."

Her eyes widen, and her cheeks begin to glow a little. Despite being relatively unfamiliar with the human body, she still seems to understand the connotations of such an act.

{if@ Nightwing thinks you're a pervert == true}"You... you lecherous, disgusting human! You only say that because you want to fulfill your vile fantasies with this body! I truly pity human women if they are stuck with animals like you. If it weren't for our agreement, I would kill you where you stand!"

She reaches down, and begins to tug at the underwear. However, it keeps sliding back down every time she moves her legs, and she gives up with a frustrated sigh.{endif}

"Just... just do it quickly!"

Full of trepidation, you circle around behind her, careful not to step on her tail. Not permitting yourself even a second to admire the view, you grasp the elastic band, your knuckles digging into the soft flesh of her rear.

She flinches a little at the contact, and you mumble an apology. You quickly pull the underwear up, and it goes up and over her butt without much effort. Having lived with a larger than average butt yourself, you're familiar with the technique required.

You worldessly step away from her and pick up the pants you chose for her. They're a pair of denim jeans, exported from the Elven capitol. Whatever technology they keep hidden away from humanity must be incredible, as they've lasted you for years.

"These are the pants - they'll protect your legs," you explain, distracting yourself from the awkward silence that has been lingering. You hand them to her, and she stares at you.

Your shoulders sag. "Oh, come on, you want me to put these on you, too!?" Nightwing simply nods, and you can't help but roll your eyes. "Alright, sit down and I'll help you."

She does just that, and you begin to put the jeans on her. You've taken pants off of women before, but this is the first time you've ever put them ON a woman.

When you have the legs bunched up by her ankles, you get her to stand up. "Okay, all you have to do now is pull them up," you inform her, hopefully.

"I thought I told you -"

"But I don't want to!" You protest, blushing furiously. "It feels weird - and we're both clearly uncomfortable, so why-"

The way she glares at you cuts your words short. You feel a chill down your spine, as though a knife is clicking along your bones.

"I gave you an order, ****. Now, either do as you're told, or I'll make you do as you're told."

You swallow nervously, and immediately get to pulling her pants up without a word. Just like with the underwear, you'll have to pull a bit harder to get the jeans over her butt. However, since the jeans don't stretch, you don't have enough leverage from behind.

"This is going to be weird," you warn her as you circle around to her front. She doesn't say anything, and you dare not stop, in case you piss her off for real.

Your chests press together as you struggle with the jeans, and you can't help but feel some butterflies in your stomach as you feel her breasts compress against you. Due to your differences in height, your chin just barely touches the top of her breasts.

Her hand moves to your chest as she stumbles a bit, and you mumble another apology.

You finally manage to pull the jeans all the way up, and you take a step back to fasten the zipper and button. Your hands slide along her waist, but you stop yourself and look up at her, your hands on her hips.

You make eye contact, and you realize that you're both blushing. You silently stare at one another for a few moments, your hands on her hips and one of her hands still on your chest.

It takes you a moment to find the words. "I...I have to...close the zipper, and..." You swallow, but your mouth is so dry that it does basically nothing. "And the button..."

She nods, and you reluctantly remove your hands from her hips to focus on the zipper and button. You fasten them with shaking hands, and then move onto the socks. Thankfully, you've never really been all that into feet, so it doesn't really present an issue.

After that, you pick up the shirt, hoping to speed things along.

"So, just put your arms out, and I'll slide this on and then tie it in the back," you instruct her. She does so, and you immediately realize that the shirt will look a bit small on her.

First off, her torso is a bit longer than yours, so even without her breasts deforming the fabric there would be midriff. But, like you realized, her breasts are also pushing out the fabric, leaving less to cover her midsection and -

Huh. No belly button. Well, it makes sense, but still - kinda weird now that you've noticed it.

"Alright, lemme just tie this up in the back..." You walk around her to tie up the strips you sewed onto the back, once again being careful not to step on her tail.

You can't help but sigh in relief when you realize that, not only are the strips long enough, but they're spaced properly such that they don't interfere with her wings. Still, you definitely should've measured first, especially since a decent amount of her back is still completely exposed.

"Annnd...done!" You come back around and flash a grin at her, relieved to be done with this task. Also, you have to say, she looks...kind of cute. She almost looks like a typical young adult.

"It definitely feels... interesting," Nightwing mutters, looking over herself.

"Oh, I've got an idea - c'mere." You grasp her by the hand and tug her with you. She's so taken aback by the sudden action that she follows you without any protest.

Standing behind the dragoness, you gently place your hands on your hips to place her n front of the mirror. You step back with a smile. "So? What d'you think?"

She stares at her reflection. "It's adequate."

"Yeah - once we make it to the nearest city, I'll see if I can find a tailor that would be willing to custom make something for you. It'll be tough, but I have a few ideas."

Nightwing nods, before glancing out the window. "Hm. It has become quite late." You look out the window as well and realize that she's right - the sun has almost completely set, and you can see the faint twinkle of stars.

"We shouldn't depart in the dark," Nightwing announces.

"Yeah - you can sleep in my bed," you inform her. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"What is this...couch?"

It takes your a few moments to realize that she's serious. After all, she's never been in a house before.

"It's the long chair-like thing," you explain. "It's good enough to sleep on."

Nightwing looks between the couch in the living room and the bed, and immediately scoffs at you. "Ridiculous! As my ****, you are entitled to the same level of luxury as myself. We will both sleep in this bed tonight."

You open your mouth to protest, but your fatigue from the day is starting to catch up with you. You have an entire litany of questions, especially around the whole same level of luxury thing, but you're just far too tired to ask.

Instead, you just prompt her to choose a side, and then slip into the one she hasn't chosen. You blush a little as you feel her get into bed next to you. Thankfully, your backs are turned to one another, so she can't see how flustered she's making you.

"Goodnight," you mumble, pulling your legs up to avoid kicking her, or her tail.

Somehow, despite the anxiety and stress of the day, you manage to fall asleep.