I hereby copyright Tripteromon, all his moves, and

anything else in my story that isn't already

copyrighted. If you wanna use 'em, ask me first.

This lemon is Not suitable for anyone under 18 years

old.

The Tale of Tripteromon

The two warriors faced each other on the battlefield.

It was raining as if the heavens had opened up and

another flood was coming, one that would have scared

even Noah. At one end was Gallantmon, his lance

glistening from the energy flowing through it. On the

other end stood Tripteromon, the Guardian Fox. He

looked like a red Renamon, except for his large red

dragon wings. His broadsword was at his side, glowing

with the elemental energy that few could match. The

Poromon behind Tripteromon were cowering in fear.

With out warning, Gallantmon charged. Though

Tripteromon knew it was futile to fight Gallantmon, he

charged at Gallantmon, hoping against hope that this

fight would not end his life. "Lightning Joust!"

shouted Gallantmon, his lance gleaming with his

energy. "Terrasword!" cried Tripteromon, sending his

strength to his sword. They met in the middle. As

they struck, time itself seemed to slow to a crawl,

that these digimon were frozen forever. Then time

sped up again and they passed. It seemed to those

observing that they had both missed. Suddenly, both

warriors collapsed in pain. One could see that

Gallantmon's shield had been cloven in two and his

mailed fist had been removed. Gallantmon collapsed on

the ground, de-evolving back into Takato and Guilmon.

Tripteromon, on the other hand, cried out, his blood

staining the black mud of the field.

Silently, Takato and Guilmon walked over the

Tripteromon's broken body, amazed that he was still

alive. "Guilmon" said Takato. "Finish him off..."

Guilmon looked at his tamer. "Takato, why should I?

He was defending these Poromon. I find him honorable.

I will NOT finish off such a noble digimon as him."

Takato stared wide-eyed at his digimon partner. "What

do you mean?! He tried to kill us! I ORDER YOU TO

FINISH HIM GUILMON!" Takato had a look of dark rage in

his eyes. He looked into the eyes of the innocent

Guilmon. The anger slowly left him. "Fine Guilmon.

If you want to leave him alive, I will not stop you."

Takato turned slowly away, aware that Guilmon was in

tears, looking at his tamer. "Takato, what do we do

with him? He is gravely injured and dying." There was

fear in Guilmon's voice as he spoke these words.

Tripteromon, though he lay on the ground, was not deaf

to the words spoken. He rose to his feet. He took a

look at his side, where the lance hit. There was a

gaping hole with blood spilling from it. He collapsed

to his knees, clutching his side. Guilmon saw this.

He walked up to Tripteromon, friendship in his manner.

"It's ok, friend. We will help you," said Guilmon,

putting a clawed hand on Tripteromon's shoulder. With

a growl that was mixed with pain and rage, Tripteromon

whipped his wings around and knocked Guilmon away.

Guilmon stumbled away, barely maintaining his balance.

Tripteromon covered himself with his wings and

whispered his teleportation chant. The wind kicked up

around him. The rain pelted against him as he

disappeared. Before he could fix his destination,

Tripteromon lost conciousness. Takato and Guilmon

could only watch as the spot where Tripteromon had

been only moments before was vacated; the only

evidence that he had been there before was a pool of

blood and an imprint of his knees in the dark, stained

mud.

Tripteromon awoke in a bed. How did I get here? He

thought. He had a blanket draped over him and a wet

compress on his forehead. He groaned as his side

started to ache. In a sudden flood, all the memories

of his battle rushed back to him. He started to

struggle, trying to get out of the bed. A soft but

firm hand held him down, lightly pressing on his

chest. "Keep still," a voice said softly. "You have

taken a mighty blow to your side. I patched you up,

hoping that you wouldn't die, despite my efforts."

Tripteromon opened his eyes slowly, his head hurting

from even that small exertion. What he saw took his

breath away. A yellow goddess stood watching over

him, worry prominent on her features. "Who are you,

goddess?" he asked. She looked at him as if she hadn't

quite heard him right. "Goddess? ME?!" she said,

looking rather shocked. "You look like Ayinae,

Goddess of the Kitsune," he said, looking up at her

radiant face. She looked at him as if he were

hallucinating. She had always thought of herself as

ugly, totally unloved by the male persuasion. "What

kind of digimon are you, lovely one?" asked the

injured fox. At this point he noticed that his wings

were missing. He wished that they were there, wished

for the safety and protection those wings gave him.

She saw a look in his eyes, like he actually wanted to

talk to her, rather than shun her for her looks. "I

am a Renamon," she said after a pause. "What are you?

And more importantly what happened to you?" She was

generally concerned for him, and she felt something

stirring withing her. "I am a Tripteromon. I was

fighting Gallantmon when I was injured," he said,

writhing as if the memory of the fight brought him

pain. She was silent for a moment. She saw him as a

wounded digimon in need of aid. She could not get

past his eyes. They were purple, with dark slits in

the middle. They added a shocking affect to his

appearance. Her heart melted within her, yet hardened

again, thinking that he may only be fevered.

"Gallantmon?" she said, with a silent cry. "Why ever

were you fighting him?" There was genuine shock in her

voice. He had to laugh at this. He had never thought

that a woman would ever care about him. "I was trying

to save the Poromon, who were threatened by a Deva,"

his eyes clouded. "I should've saved them... I could've

saved them... I could've save her... Damn Gallantmon... If

he hadn't interfered, Zeiramon would still be alive..."

here he stopped, his throat closing against sobs. She

could see that talking about it caused him great pain.

"If you need me, call me by name," she said, turning

away. "Wait!" he cried. "What is your name?" "I am

Tira," she said, as if it was of little importance.

"I am Baeltar," he said. "You may call me Bael."

With this, he drifted into unconsciousness, dreaming

of Tira.

What a relief thought Tira. I was afraid of what I

might do to him if he were still awake. I wonder... Is

this LOVE I'm feeling? Impossible! And yet... I want

him. He is the only one who seems to understand where

I am coming from. I will make him mine... as she

thought over her feelings.

Now, Tira had been made fun of. Often times, in her

younger years, for she was but seventeen, she had

cried herself to sleep. To the other people of

Farantasa she was as plain as they came. She had what

men from other lands call pretty. But compared to the

other girls of Farantasa, she was plain. Plain was a

nice way to put it. The other girls were, for lack of

a better phrase, hotter than hell. Tira knew that, if

Bael ever saw another woman from the village, he would

never look upon her again. She went to a chair and

sat down. She became a healer to help people, despite

her handicap of being ugly. She wanted to get away

from all those who shunned her. Healers aren't judged

by what they look like, but by how they act, and how

well their healing worked. She was a rank four

healer. There are five ranks. As your healing skill

goes higher, so does your rank. When you reach rank

five, you can heal royalty and bring those who ware

not dead back from on the verge of death. She was

working on her Rank Five Test. That was what Bael

was. She had had no idea that she would fall for her

charge at first glance. She was happy being a healer,

because noone would care that she was still a virgin.

She laid back into the chair, tears falling from her

eyes. Her last conscious thought was that,

thankfully, Bael was asleep. She relaxed into a

fitful slumber.

Bael was not sleeping. He had his eyes shut,

thinking. He was pained, angry, and confused at the

same time. He didn't remember what had happened after

his arrival. He didn't even know where he was. All

he remembered after the fight was teleporting away and

arriving, bloody, in a small pool. After that, he

must have passed out. His side hurt. He could barely

breathe. But he was still alive. That was a plus.

He tried to look on the bright side as much as

possible. He liked living up to his title, Guardian

of the Innocent. He remembered the little Poromon,

all happy and smiling. They had loved him. He had

loved them like they were his own children. His heart

ached at the thought of what might have happened

during his period of unconsciousness. He made a

mental note to ask Tira how long he had been

unconscious. He didn't like thinking about all the

evil that may have been reeked on the village in his

absence. He groaned in pain, opening his eyes. He

looked around.

He was in a small room, with a large armoire against

one wall. It was obviously a healer's quarters. He

saw a large, yellow fox asleep in a chair, blocking

the door. She was gorgeous, the absolutely most

beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had

soft-looking yellow fur, with a large spot of white.

She wore a pair of purple gloves with yin-yang signs

on them. She had a long yellow tail, much like his.

She looked much like him, except yellow. He felt a

strange feeling towards her, one he had never known

before. He knew he had to have her. Bael sat up,

groaning softly so as not to wake her. He put his

feet onto the floor and walked over to her. He picked

her up and brought her to the bed. He laid her down

and covered her with a blanket. Tira said something

softly. He leaned in to hear her. He could barely

hear her. "I love you, my Bael," she whispered,

unaware that he was listening. Bael stood upright,

hearing her say those words. It's destiny. I'm sure

of it he thought. He didn't want to frighten her, so

he walked away.

He went to the door and opened it. There was bright

sunlight streaming in through the door. He let his

eyes adjust to the light and looked out. He was in a

village of some sort. There were many buildings

facing around in a circle. At the center of this

circle was a large fountain. The fountain, in the

light, looked as though it were spouting gold. There

were also many people out and about. Bael walked out

of the door, hoping to get a better look at these

people. He went to the fountain and sat down on a

bench, gazing about. To those who took the time to

notice Bael, they saw him as a red Renamon with a

large bandage on his side. Bael gazed about. All the

people of the village were Renamon! These people all

looked a lot like Tira. Bael sat there for a long

while, just looking. After a few moments, he could

see that there were small differences between each of

them. One had a notched ear. Another had a large

beauty mark. Still another had dyed his white fur

dark green. Bael loved this place. It was so

peaceful, so quiet. He fell asleep on the bench, a

smile plastered on his face.

Tira awoke, her eyes still shut. She noticed that

something was not right. She was too comfortable for

being in a chair. She opened her eyes. The first

thing she saw was that her chair was next to her,

rather than under her. She turned her head to the

side and saw, to her fright, that she was in the bed,

and that Bael was gone. She sat up quickly. The

covers fell away from her body. As they reached her

feet, she saw, to her relief, that there were no

fluids on the bed. She had been having a rather

private dream before she woke up. She went to the

door and threw it open. It was night. She cursed her

tired body at the thought of searching the village for

her charge. If the head of the healing house heard of

this, she would be demoted. I hope he's near by, she

thought, looking around. She walked up to the

fountain, hoping to get a good view of the area. When

she reached the fountain, she saw that Bael was

already there. He looked so peaceful to Tira that she

didn't wish to wake him, yet she must. "Wake up,

Bael" she whispered. Bael stirred, opening his eyes.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. His first words shocked

her. "Is that you, Ayinae?" he asked. She felt very

flattered to be compared to the village's goddess, but

she knew better. "No. It's me, Tira," she said. He

groaned and stretched, making the bandages loosen.

"Oh you!" she said, feeling a little angry. "Come

inside. I must change your bandages." Bael complied,

standing. He followed her to the healer's hall. As

soon as he stepped inside with her, she closed the

door, locked it, and put the armoire in front of it.

"No more sneaking off for you, redfox," she said. "I

can't have my patient running around town without me.

Come, let's see to those bandages." Bael sat down on

the bed. Tira walked around behind him and loosened

the bandages. When she totally removed them, she

looked at the wound. The bandages dropped from her

hands as she gasped in shock, moving her hands to

cover her mouth. The wound was gone. The only way

she could see where the wound had been was a small

amount of clotted blood in the fur near the wound.

"What's the matter?" asked Bael. "The wound...IT'S

GONE!" she said, shocked. Bael looked at where the

wound was. Seeing that it was healed, he smiled. "Oh

thank goodness," he said. "I was wondering how long

it would take my body to heal that one." Tira stared

in disbelief. "I dressed that wound myself," she

said. "I was afraid you were going to die from it.

How can it heal up in just one night? You are just

like me. Noone in my race heals that fast. That's

why we need healers. How can your body, which is

exactly like mine, except for color, heal so quickly?"

Her voice had an edge of panic to it. "Can you give

me a moment?" asked Bael, amused. "Fine then. I will

wait right here," she said, annoyed at his amused

tones. "Suit yourself," was the reply.

Bael crossed his legs on the bed and focused. He

concentrated on his true form. Slowly, his wings

started to poke out. They grew rapidly to full size,

a good eight feet across. He folded them behind his

back, politely ignoring the shocked look on Tira's

face. "Now do I look like one of your people?" he

asked. She collapsed to her knees, looking stricken.

"No...you don't," she said, distressed.

She didn't look like she had enough energy to stand.

Bael walked over to her and picked her up. He was met

with next to no resistance. He placed her on the bed.

Looking deep into her eyes, he did something she

didn't expect. He bent down and kissed her beautiful

lips. Surprisingly for him, she returned his kiss,

almost desperately. "I want you, Bael," she said, her

voice heavy with passion. "And I you, lovely Tira,"

he said, his voice soft, tender. She was aroused.

Her breasts started to poke through her chest fur.

She was not embarrassed about it anymore. She used to

go through great pains to hide them. Now they were

for Bael only. Bael extended his wings fully as he

climbed into the bed. Gently, he wrapped them both in

them. The scales of his wings were warm with his

passion. Slowly, he moved his hands to her breasts,

rubbing them gently. She moaned her passion as his

fingers traced the nipples, never touching, only

teasing. He kissed her again, feeling her tongue

inside her mouth, wanting to taste her. He rubbed her

breasts a little harder. Her body tensed and relaxed

as she came, her juices soaking the bed. Bael laughed

as she looked embarrassed. "Why are you embarrassed?"

Bael asked. "It is only love juice." He withdrew his

wings. He broke the kiss and, sticking his tongue

out, traced her body down to her breasts. He licked

all around her breasts, never touching the nipples.

She moaned, a little frustrated that he did not touch

them. He suddenly gave a long hard lick to her left

breast. Her body tensed as another orgasm hit her,

flooding the bed again with her juice. This time, she

was not embarrassed by it. She only moaned louder.

Now he licked one breast, then the other, alternating

a lick and a rub between each. Her body rocked as

another orgasm hit. She held it as long as she could,

feeling the ecstasy inside her. She managed to hold

it back, stopping the juice flow. Bael looked a little

hurt by this, but then his features softened again.

He moved his tongue past her breasts, down her

stomach, stopping for a moment to lick her navel. He

reached her vagina. It was a small slit surrounded by

bright yellow fur. To him, it looked like the

entrance to heaven. He licked around the outside.

She gasped at the overwhelming pleasure. He ran his

tongue around in concentric circles, enhancing her

pleasure. Shortly, he found a hole. It looked very

deep. He knew what the hole was. He stuck his tongue

deep into Tira. She cried out as another orgasm

rushed over her, sender her juices into the face of

her lover. Bael drank up the juices happily, then

cleaned up the rest with his finger. To him it tasted

like divine mead. "Delicious," he said, offering Tira

his finger. She obligingly licked it up, a look of

pleasure on her face. By this time, Tira noticed

Bael's member. It was one and a half feet long, with

a black head and red body. Tira knew what it was,

because there were many men who had tried to impress

her with theirs, but she had paid them no heed. She

reached out and grasped it. It was warm and firm.

Bael moaned at the feeling of her healer's hands on

his cock. She slowly started to rub. Bael was being

overrun by these emotions. He was going to cry out

that he was cumming when she stopped, removing her

hands. His orgasm slowly ebbed. He had a look of

anguish on his face, but it didn't last long. Quick

as a flash, Tira grabbed his cock and placed it into

her mouth. She knew she wouldn't be able to fit all

of it into her mouth, so she placed as much as

possible, about four inches. She started to suck on

it. She licked it as if it were an ice cream cone.

Her tongue passed over the top and Bael moaned loudly.

She started to jack him off. After a minute or so,

he cried out. "I'm cumming!" he shouted. An instant

later, he came. His cum flowed out of his love stick

and into her waiting mouth. Tira drank it down

hungrily, taking all of it in. When his orgasm had

finished, Bael's cock was still rock-hard. Tira

released it from her mouth with a last lick. Bael

moved to her crotch. He slowly inserted his dick into

her pussy. After a few inches, he encountered a

barrier. Tira gasped in pain. "So, you are a

virgin," he said. "I guess I get the honor of

de-flowering you, my goddess. Are you ready?" Tira

nodded. Bael drew back and rammed forward hard. The

barrier broke. Tira's muscles contracted instantly.

In her eyes, tears were forming. After a few seconds

her muscles relaxed. Bael moved slowly, pumping in

and out of her. Soon he picked up the speed, sure

that she had adjusted to him. He went faster. Faster

and faster, harder and harder he went, pumping into

her as if he were a machine. She moaned and groaned

as wave after wave of pleasure hit her, threatening to

drown her. Bael went so far in that his entire cock

was in. His balls slapped against her. Her orgasm

crested. "I'm cumming for you, my dear one!" she

shouted. Her juices flowed onto his cock, sending him

over the edge. He came with her, shooting his load

deep into her. Their juices mingled and fell out.

They both collapsed from exertion. Bael looked into

the eyes of his newly won lover. "My heart and soul

to you, Tira, my love," he said. She gazed back and

replied, "I want you to be with me forever. Stay with

me this night and figure it all out in the morning.

Meanwhile, I want to sleep with your cock inside of

me." She closed her eyes. Bael obliged her, hugging

her close, leaving his stick deep in her. He covered

them both with his wings and fell asleep, aware that

he had known a love greater than all others.

To be Continued...