A Lady and Her Lord [Lioness; Renaissance Fair, Angry Sex]: Not everyone can get into the spirit of the Renaissance fair, but Anon can help one jouster try to unwind a bit.

>It's a warm day at the annual Renaissance fair
>And you're alone because it's "a little TOO nerdy" for your friends
>The day is wrapping up with the jousting tournament in a large outdoor arena
>As the royal dais is populated with humans and anthros of extravagant dress, a beautiful vixen steps forward 
>"Lords and ladies, please welcome to today's event, and the penultimate tournament of the season!"
>The crowd waves pennants of their respective section's color
>You're in the "amber section", flanked by sapphire and ruby
>"Emblazoned in blue, the knight of the people, please welcome Sir Azuregeld!"
>A sinewy horse rides onto the sandy arena on the back of a four-legged dinosaur
>He makes a lap around the field before stopping in front of his section's crowd
>"The sanguine swordsman, and our reigning grand champion, Sir Guleswulf!"
>A burly lupine charges out next, red dye streaked across his fur
>He has a smarmy demeanor as he parks his own dino before his crowd
>The ruby section cheers for him, but the rest of the arena boos his arrogance
>"Finally, the gartered warrior from the golden east, our newest champion, Lady Orroara!"
>A majestic lioness rushes out, her armor adorned with much more "tribal" motifs than the typical medieval style, as well as her titular floral garters
>Her dino fights her command briefly when she settles before you
>She looks nervous, but keeps her chest puffed out and wooden lance tightly in paw
>"Champions, please ready yourselves for today's tournament!"
>The riders circle the arena, eliciting cheers from their own section and heckling from the opposing ones
>They perform several trials of accuracy and speed
>Catching rings with their lances, jumping fences, racing laps around the arena
>Guleswulf takes a commanding lead in points while Orroara struggles just to control her mount
>Finally comes the last challenge: the joust
>The first round is Azuregeld versus Guleswulf
>Even with the lances being made of wood for safety, the force of Guleswulf's precise strike is enough to send the horse knight reeling
>Next is Azuregeld versus the rookie, Lady Orroara
>Azuregeld's humiliation is channeled into his lance, and he takes out his rage against the lioness
>Her shield goes sailing from her grip from the impact, causing your section to groan in disappointment 
>A bunny squire retrieves the shield for her, and she faces off against Guleswulf
>You can see the result even before it happens
>The wolf rams the lioness with such energy she is sent toppling from her dino
>She keeps the lance gripped so tightly that it bends and snaps as it digs into the earth
>”Sir Guleswulf remains out champion for the day!” the vixen shouts
>There’s applause from the whole crowd, though it’s unenthusiastic coming from the amber section
>As the people clear out to the rest of the faire, Lady Orroara pounds the sands with a clenched fist

>The horse and wolf remain to autograph tournament memorabilia for the guests
>Pennants of their color, photo prints, the rings and targets damaged during the trials >Even the remnants of the wooden lances are available to purchase
>Unfortunately, they only come in one color: amber
>You buy the two halves of the lioness’ weapon and approach the vixen with them
>”Lady Orroara should have returned by now after stabling her mount,” the fox says
>She looks agitated, but quickly puts on a cheerful air
>”Please, come with me. I’m sure she may need to be REMINDED of the fans who wish to see her.”
>You’re led to the back of the arena, stopped outside of the employee entrance
>You can hear muted arguing from over the walls, followed by the vixen’s shrill voice
>”Lady Orroara would do well to champion HER CHARACTER if she wishes to remain a champion of our FAIR!”
>The vixen stomps out, composing herself as best as she can
>”Lady Orroara is unable to return to the arena at this time”
>She sees the dejection in your face, then clears her throat and motions to the employee entrance
>”Perhaps the young lord would like to enter and see her anyway? Oh, and please excuse the suspension of illusion for our dear realm!”
>You’re guessing she means, “Pretend you’re not seeing everyone out of their costumes”
>It’s definitely what you’d expect from the backstage area of a medieval fair
>Air conditioning, televisions, refrigerators…
>The lioness sits alone at a table, nursing a beer with a small collection of empty plastic cups scattered around
>She looks at you glumly as you present her broken lance
>”So, which one of the two ‘knightly’ pricks is putting you up to this?” she says
>It’s stereotyping, but you expected some kind of foreign accent judging from her theming and the way she was presented
>She doesn’t even try to speak “old timey” like the rest of the employees
>Instead, her voice is the honeyed rumble of a lion, powerful and coarse
>You tell her you were hoping to get her autograph
>The lioness sighs as she takes out a marker
>”I hate signing this round shit,” she mutters, trying best to write on the cylindrical surface
>There’s an awkward silence after she hands the pieces back to you
>You try to break the tension
>She, uh, did a good job for being a new jouster
>The lioness empties her cup and puts her head in her paw
>”Yeah, and I’m probably getting thrown out after the season’s over. Four years as a shit-kicker for those damn dinos, and I blow my first chance as a REAL champion”
>Wow, you didn’t realize that was a full-time thing
>”It’s to ‘preserve the atmosphere of the faire’ by putting the temps in the menial roles,” she replies. “It’s all for their little illusion. Bet you think my name’s actually ‘Orroara’ as well?”
>Well, it’s still a pretty nice name
>She just chuckles
>”Fine, I can be ‘Orroara’, just for you. Sorry if I’m not what you expected. What’s your name?”
>Anon
>”…Is that supposed to be some kind of nickname, too?”

>You stay at the faire until closing time
>Many guests and even a few employees slip out of their costumes for the day’s end
>As you head towards the gates you see Orroara, doffed of her armor, grabbing one last drink at the tavern
>”Oh, Anon, right?” she says as you approach
>She already has two drinks in preparation, so she slides you one
>”Listen, you probably didn’t have any clue at the time, but you ended up doing me a lot of good by asking me to sign your stuff.” 
>Her claws rap against her pewter tankard 
>”Guess I won’t be having ‘fans’ much longer, so I should have enjoyed the few I had more than I did.”
>You tell her you’d love to come back and see her for the final day’s tournament
>”Heh, if you’re really that taken by me, you probably shouldn’t come back,” she says
>”I’ll probably be an even bigger embarrassment tomorrow. Best if you remember me with what little dignity I still have left.”
>It’s a bold move, maybe a little too forward, but you reach over and place your hand on her paw
>You can see the swishing of her slender tail out of the corner of your eye
>You say her name with honor and admiration
>Lady Orroara
>And Anon, her biggest fan
>You almost bring the lioness to tears, but she hides them in her tankard with a large gulp
>”Listen, I need to…blow off a little steam. I really don’t want you to think I’m uncaring, but it’s more for my sake than anything. Would you…follow me to my room?”
>Suddenly the touch of her paw doesn’t seem too forward anymore
>But she’s such a stunning lioness and it’s hard to turn her down
>She’s soon leading you through the fairgrounds
>You expect to be taken to the employee area, but you duck into one of the open-air shops and up the stairs in the rear of the building
>”Veteran employees get rooms on the grounds,” she says jadedly. “Supposed to keep us in the spirit of the period or whatever.”
>It’s indeed a very utilitarian room, with no electricity and a bed that’d be too small for even you
>But the space feels extremely cozy, especially when you light a few candles
>The lioness is already down to her fur before you have a chance to begin undressing
>At least her warrior’s physique is not just part of the “illusion”
>It’s sculpted with muscle and covered with a golden pelt
>Your watchful eyes don’t go unnoticed, and the regal cat is soon flexing and stretching before you
>But she doesn’t waste time on just the visual demonstration of her strength
>She picks you up and carries you over to the bed, plopping you down to finish stripping you of your clothes
>The anticipation of a much needed, stress-induced release has already made her more than ready 
>She’s already dripping, prepared to take your manhood without any foreplay
>She weighs heavily on your body, straddling both you and the bed itself with those dexterous, toned thighs
>”J-just don’t make any stupid medieval puns,” she gasps after settling on your entire length. “I don’t want to hear anything about lances, or spears, or broadswords, or sheaths…”
>Her hips begin rocking at a steady pace, the rhythm in time with every grievance she lists
>The bedframe already has a dangerous amount of strain on it
>When she runs out of dick innuendos she vents about the rest of her issues
>”Or heavy armor, or handsy guests, or those disgusting portable toilets…”
>She’s digging her claws into you as she bucks wildly
>Anger in her face, but directed everywhere except to you
>”OR ASSHOLE KNIGHTS, OR CUNTBAG QUEENS, OR THIS WHOLE FUCKING FAIR.”
>She cries out as she climaxes, pressing you further down into the bed
>The lioness pants as she rides her orgasm out, unconcerned with your own situation
>You don’t want to enrage her any more, but you also can’t hold out much longer
>Your cumming manages to set her off again, but instead of a vicious roar she’s reduced to a pitiful moan
>When her eyes open again, she looks down in shame
>”I’m…sorry,” she says
>You coax her down gently beside you
>The bed clearly wasn’t made for her size, let alone two bodies, but you manage to curl up in her silken fur
>She holds your head closely to her own, whispering into your ear
>”Please, say it again.”
>It takes you a minute to understand what she’s saying, but then it dawns on you
>Lady Orroara
>She smiles and runs her claws through your hair
>You still don’t even know her real name
>”It’s Orroara, just for you….” 

>The final day of the fair culminates around the arena
>There are far more events happening than just the tournament, but it all ends with the much awaited jousting
>All three champions ride out valiantly, ready for the battle royale
>It’s a free-for-all, though they are instructed to only initiate the joust when the targeted opponent looks ready
>After a lot of circling the arena and a few fake outs, Orroara sets her sight on Sir Azuregeld
>The two charge one another
>The intimidation in the horse’s eyes becomes readily apparent as the lioness readies her strike
>Her lance shatters upon his shield, and Azuregeld is launched off his mount
>”O-oh!” the vixen announcer exclaims. “It seems Sir Guleswulf is trying to catch Lady Orroara off guard!”
>You hear booing from the crowd as the lupine races full-tilt towards the unarmed lioness
>But Orroara braces herself and leans into the assault
>Guleswulf’s own weapon splinters to pieces against her shield
>With the dinos so close to each other, the lioness reaches out and bashes the lupine off his mount
>And right into a pile of dino shit
>“We have a new grand champion of the realm, Lady Orroara!”
>Even Guleswulf’s own section turns on him, joining in the deafening applause of the crowd
>”As is tradition, the grand champion will now approach the royal dais to choose among the rewards-“
>But the lioness ignores her
>As she takes her victory lap around the arena, her eyes are on you alone
>And when she stops at the amber section, she extends a paw to you
>She’s your champion, your Lady Orroara