FSE

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It was all too common in medieval times that there would be a peaceful countryside of rolling, green pastures and endless fields of crops, bathed perfectly in the midday sun, rained upon with golden beams of life in the mid afternoon.

It was almost as common, however, that this little slice of paradise was being terrified by the likes of an evil and sadistic dragon, and the green pastures were more like patchy, black and brown areas that had been burned countless times by fire and torn asunder by the ripping of claws and fangs.

In Valeborn, once a peaceful and pleasant countryside that fit the former description, a dragon was just starting to descend on the farms outside of the common area, but while sightings of a large, red, winged creature were becoming all the more commonplace, there was yet to be any damage to the fields, the farmhouses were almost completely untouched, and the thatched-roof cottages were left without a scratch. It was enough to leave villagers to do the scratching upon their own heads as they tried to piece things together.

After all, why would a dragon continue to terrorize a village if he wasn't going to destroy everything in his path for the joy of it? What other motivation could cause a dragon to continually ravage the same village, over and over again, with scarcely a trace that he'd been there when the morning came?

Large, feral and armed to the teeth with razor sharp fangs, impregnable red scales, an onyx underbelly, and claws that could rend flesh from bone with the greatest of ease, the dragon that was seen flying over Valeborn at night was one that struck fear into the hearts of anyone who might lay eyes on it, but so far, there wasn't a single wound to be found on a villager, and not a bit of damage to report anywhere else. There was only the unusual sound of panic that came from the farms at night...but every time, by the time the farmers would make it out to the barns, the noise would be silenced, and sure enough, one of his cattle would be missing.

A dragon has to eat, doesn't he? The red and black monster thought, as he slowed the flapping of his wings and descended onto yet another barn, having no qualms about which barn or which farmer he was going to go after next. But that's no reason he can't have a little fun in town first.

Naturally, the villagers always feared the worst when the dragon was sighted, and they were sure that his fun was the kind that would leave hundreds injured or worse, and without homes.

He had something entirely different in mind.

_This would all be a whole lot more fun for me if you ladies would keep quiet when I showed up,_The dragon, who had only ever been called "Seymour," thought to himself. As a feral beast, he was scarcely capable of speaking in the tongues of upright animals, but small talk was never his real concern when he arrived at a new farm.

It was nothing more than finding the best exit in case things got a little dangerous, and finding which female bovine would provide the best meal for him...and the most fun.

"I-it's true! The rumors are true!" cried out a panicked voice among the cattle. Wide, brown eyes shrunk down in fear as the female looked up from her bed of hay, kicking up a little bit of dust from the floor as Seymour approached her stable. The other cows, believing that their best defense was to stay silent, did exactly that, terrified beyond words, or even making a sound as Seymour scanned over the small, wooden confines of the barn. There was nowhere for the girls to run if Seymour decided to be greedy, but right now, there was only one bovine making a sound, and thus, only one bovine that he had to silence.

She'll do just fine, Seymour thought, as he quickly marched over to the stable where he heard the sound. Dust kicked up around the weight of his massive paws, dulling the bright red coat of his scales and sending a message of danger to the waiting cattle, who was already violently shaking against the hay and wishing that she could settle her body, but no matter how she tried, her limbs refused to still. Her paws shook, her brow wept with sweat, and her heart thumped wildly in her chest as Seymour simply kept creeping closer.

She was quite the looker, and while Seymour didn't quite understand the way that upright animals behaved, he could tell that some species seemed to be of a lower class than others, and for the most part, he'd seen bovine males relegated to a role that bordered on slavery, doing work in the village for next to nothing, while the females were kept in barns and forced to produce breast milk for the better of others. Seymour was the primary beneficiary in all of this; the males were too far away to protect their mates, and the females had a nice, tender marbling to them when Seymour finally had the chance to appreciate their flavor.

Before he did that, however...

"Please... please don't eat me..." the female whimpered as hay stuck into her fur from her violent shaking. "There's no reason for this..." I wouldn't taste that good anyway, I promise...

Eat you? Not yet... Seymour thought. His eyes, giving an icy stare of empty blue, and his fangs, born in a devious grin, did nothing to reassure the female that this was her last day of life. She was only all the more terrified as the dragon loomed closer to her, and the other females, paralyzed beyond reason in their fear, could only huddle into the hay as the dragon stood over the once resting upright. You have a much greater purpose to serve, first.

The female cow, a scared little cattle by the name of Clarice, wasn't sure if there was anything she could do to help herself, but if she could read Seymour's mind, she likely wouldn't be relieved by the thoughts she saw. She was sure that he was already imagining the feeling of her raw flesh in his stomach, fulfilling his seemingly insatiable hunger.

She had no idea that there was a different hunger that he needed to fulfill, and her nude body, resting on the hay and still shuddering with fear, was all that he needed to satiate himself, in every way thinkable.

"No...n-no..."

The trembling plea of Clarice did nothing to dissuade Seymour. He moved forward still, his massive paws resting on either side of her laying form, just on the sides of her hips. She thought perhaps to kick the dragon or squirm back to the wall, but every nerve in her body was completely locked up as she simply looked up at the dragon. His maw opened, fangs drooling and tongue flickering at the air to collect her taste, as Clarice prepared for the worst.

What came instead was something she never expected.

"I beg you, p-please don't..." Clarice tried to plea one last time, but it was all for naught as the dragon lunged forward with his maw wide open...and slid the long, flat flesh of his tongue against her exposed, nude sex, slathering it in a thin coat of heated saliva. "Wh...what are you doing?!"

_A little dinner before dessert, of course,_Seymour thought, though his reply came out to Clarice in an unintelligible grunt. Still squirming, but now for an entirely different reason, Clarice wiggled against the offending tongue and tried to get a grip on what was really happening. She tried to clamp her legs tightly closed together, but as soon as he was denied his treat, Seymour gripped Clarice by the thighs and easily pried them back apart. There was no amount of force that Clarice could generate to overpower him, and her body and mind were in just as strong of a conflict as the physical pleasures of being licked by such a heated, slick tongue started to overpower the fear that refused to leave her mind. Little by little, her thighs started to stay open of their own accord, but Seymour kept her overpowered, pinning her legs into the hay as he enjoyed his sweet, tasty treat, enjoying the faint musk that filled his nostrils as he buried his rather large muzzle into Clarice's folds.

The other cattle watched on in shock and confusion as Seymour made a meal of Clarice, but not nearly in the literal sense that they expected. As many of the females that were put into a state of near slavery were, Clarice was sexually starved and without a mate, so her body reacted as strongly as it could to the feeling of a long and wet tongue probing her depths, literally flickering inside of her so deeply that she could feel the fiery red appendage tickling at her cervix, a sensation that started out as unusual, but quickly turned heavenly. Seymour was going to have trouble keeping Clarice quiet all over again, but this time, it was just to keep her moans in check.

"So that's why you've been b-breaking into barns?" Clarice tried to ask, though her voice was interrupted with a soft gasp. "You...mnnn... you just should have said so! Damn...you really are insatiable...well...eat up, baby! Eat my sweet little cunt!"

The shift in demeanor might have seemed outlandish to Seymour, but he knew that the female cattle of the village were sexually starved, more often than not, which meant that all he had to do was let instinct take over, and every time it did, females came to bend to his whims rather easily. Clarice was no exception, and her legs were already shaking as she felt the bulk of the tongue that teased her pressing up to the erect, cute little nub that was her clit. Her whole body stiffened up for a moment in near-orgasmic bliss as the moist flesh simply rumbled against her entire sex, giving her a thrill that she could only ever have imagined before, and as her mind completely shifted to satisfying her own needs, her eyes shamelessly crept between Seymour's legs, locking onto the massive, draconic sheathe upon his crotch, and the large, blue member, matching the shade of his eyes, that was already poking out, throbbing, and dripping precum onto the dusty floor.

"Is that for me...? How thoughtful!" Clarice cheered. Fear was all but an afterthought anymore, and without a scrap of shame, she reached a paw up to her chest and took one of her breasts within it, squeezing the milk right out of one of her nipples and smoothing it into the black and white spots of her fur. Seymour had _quite_a way with the ladies, and Clarice was perhaps the most eager little bovine he'd ever picked out of a crowd. "Don't be shy, big guy...go ahead and do what you came here to do...stuff me up with that fat cock!"

No doubt, that was still in the plans for Seymour, but as his tongue slithered and snaked back and forth over Clarice's heated sex, slurping and lapping up at the sudden flow of juices that her body offered to the larger male, he knew he wouldn't be satisfied with just a simple sample of the young cattle. An eager and skillful tongue was more than happy to pull free from Clarice, his tongue dripping with the sweet, liquid arousal from her snatch, but it was only going to get messier before all was said and done.

"Th-that's it, boy...get over here and mount me..."

Not yet... Seymour mentally spoke, grunting curiously as he moved his large, powerful muzzle up along the fur of her tummy and watched as milk flowed from the one of Clarice's breasts. Ever the glutton, Seymour became all the more curious as to the taste of a cow's milk, and his tongue sated that curiosity for him, as it slurped all the way up from her navel, past the underside of her breasts and right to the nipple of the free tit, pressing against it and slurping around it hungrily. Milk gently spurted from the very tip of the nipple, coating Seymour's tongue and filling his maw with a whole new world of sweet, silky sensations, ones that he'd never even dreamed possible as his hunger got the better of him.

"Ooooooh my gosh..." Clarice moaned with delight, biting her lower lip as she felt her whole form going rigid. "Go on, boy...d-drink up...drink as much of my sweet, tasty milk as you want..."

When your entire life's purpose was being an animal to be harvested, your body did the best it could do to provide a solid yield, and Clarice did exactly that for Seymour. Her nipple spurted wildly, dribbling excess milk upon his lips as he tried in vain to contain the mess with his tongue. It was a sensual effort for Clarice, who shuddered again with renewed delight at the sensation, never having had such a skillful male to work on her breasts before. Somehow, Seymour knew just how to move his tongue along her flesh to draw out the milk, and if he wasn't worried about spoiling his appetite, he might have drunk her dry.

_I'll have to remember that when she's going down,_Seymour kept a mental note for later, slowly retracting his tongue from her breast again and going back to his earlier delicacy. Just as Clarice was about to get to work on her womanhood manually, Seymour reminded her of how she got so wet in the first place by slurping his milk-soaked tongue over her delicate folds.

Slowly but surely, Clarice was losing it.

"E...enough, dragon...I need t-that cock...gimme that big, fat cock! Fill me up, now!"

The difference in size between the two was more than apparent as Seymour hovered over Clarice, but even he could understand the amount of need she truly felt; it might have been even greater than his own. In an act of equal parts mercy and lust, Seymour retracted his tongue, savoring every last drop of the sweet, earthy flavor that Clarice had to offer, before he crawled further up over her body. When he was finally in place, Clarice was looking up into his black underbelly and chest, but she wasn't concerned with eye contact.

She was concerned with seeing how much of a dragon she could take.

"Ooooh... OH! BY THE GODS!"

She was also quick to discover that her eyes were bigger than her stomach, so to speak.

Seymour had quite the intricate manhood: the tip of his member was just slightly pointed, and near the base of his length was a number of gentle studs of flesh, though it was rare any female he encountered could take that much of him. Just from the head and the first eight inches, Clarice found herself so full that breathing became a strain...and she couldn't be happier.

"Y-yes...yes! This is just what I needed!" Clarice praised her dragon lover, her paws reaching up to try and grasp at his scales, holding on for the ride of her life. She knew her legs wouldn't properly wrap around his back, but she did her best to thrust her hips back against the Seymour as he speared her, his pace erratic and overly excited, but effective for giving Clarice exactly what she needed. Her every nerve ending was ablaze with pleasure as she continued to squeeze one of her swollen, sensitive breasts, milking it and giving herself a small massage with the excess as hedonism completely took control of her body. There was nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to be afraid of, and only a long needed release to gain.

Everything was perfect for her.

Seymour wasn't complaining, either.

_Damn! She's tight...I'd almost wonder if I bagged a virgin somehow!_He thought, wondering just how fortune could smile so heavily on him. He wished that he could speak the language, to meet with Clarice's praise and heavenly moans, but his deep, feral grunting and rumbling was a sign enough to the helpless cattle beneath him that he was enjoying himself. Of course, it didn't hurt that he was filling her well beyond the capacity of what her body could handle with each pass of his hips, and as the pace increase, Clarice widened her eyes in shock as her g-spot was simply assaulted.

The orgasms started coming, right out of nowhere, and they simply didn't stop.

Mindlessly thrusting her hips up into the air against Seymour as her inner walls contracted and convulsed around him, Clarice felt the tiniest strand of drool creeping out of the side of her muzzle as she managed to take even a ninth and tenth inch of the dragon that was so fully mating her, as pleasure overwhelmed her body and made something normally painful into a delightful experience. There wasn't even the slightest hesitation on her part to try and take even more, but her body had truly reached a capacity, and with each and every powerful thrust, Seymour gave her body literally everything it could handle. With inner muscles fluttering and a never-ending wave of climaxes rocking her body, Clarice had forgotten what she was ever worried about in the first place. She simply rolled her eyes back and grinned a silly, proud grin as she rested back, took the best fuck that she'd ever known, and waited expectantly for the gush of seed that was sure to fill her in mere moments.

She might have had to wait longer, but Seymour was a younger and more excitable dragon, and the young adult dragons were always known for having a little trouble keeping things under control. Clarice, already losing count after her tenth climax sent an even greater flood of her juices into the hay, wasn't about to complain about the male not lasting long enough for her. She was just hoping to be conscious of the feeling when it happened.

_She just keeps gripping me inside...that feels amazing! I can't...I can't hold out any longer!_Seymour mentally cried, wishing that he could make the moment last even a few seconds more, but Clarice demonstrated just how skillful her body was inside. Seymour could only imagine the sensation was a bit like having two paws around his length, one near the base, and one near the head, each squeezing his member at random and trying to milk it from either end, and no matter how hard he tried, there was no way to get used to the feeling. It proved too much, and with a loud, furious grunt that startled every other cattle in the barn, Seymour finally climaxed, releasing a literal flood of his cum inside of the waiting cow. Clarice lost her voice to elation as she could feel hot, thick seed pouring inside of her, completely filling her womb and spraying out of her folds, making a terrible mess of the hay and the floor. The volume was so great that it started to puddle around Clarice's thighs, and she had no shame about dragging a pawtip through the mess and bringing it to her lips, just to see if a dragon could taste every bit as amazing as it could feel.

Seymour didn't disappoint, and her lips curled back into a lustful smile as she gulped down her sample.

"Oh...my... goodness..." Clarice gasped, panting between ever word she could manage. Her head was still spinning as she tried to catch her breath, and her body was still writhing with delight, even as Seymour's hips finally came to a halt. A slow, leaking stream of excess juices continued to spill out of her abused sex as their mating came to an end, and Clarice, wanting to test Seymour's endurance, decided to put on the charms. "I..._mnn..._I noticed...we've all been disappearing...after you've come to visit," she pointed out, slowly and finally catching her breath. "Is that because you keep taking us back to your lair to keep us as your personal sex slaves? Certainly can't be any worse of a life than this..."

For someone like you, it's a tempting thought,_Seymour pondered. After all, Clarice had been perhaps the best lay that he'd ever had, and her body was rather alluring...curvy hips, a full, squeezable rear and breasts that were full of milk and prime to be tasted... _But I'm awfully hungry...

Clarice felt the grip of Seymour's front paws on her shoulders, and at first, she actually wiggled with excitement at the prospect of what was to come. She would be freed from her life of being a slave for her milk, given a new start at life, and all of that with the best sexual partner she'd ever encountered. There was still no concern, but only excitement in her eyes as Seymour lifted her from the bed of hay and gazed upon her with narrowed blue eyes. As she hung, the last of the spilling seed dripped from her labia, and Clarice felt a tiny flush in her cheeks at the thought of just how full she'd actually been.

And a cream filled cow sounds like quite a tasty delicacy.

"Looks like someone has decided to add me to his stable!" Clarice said with a dainty giggle, trying to look the part of a servant to a powerful, dangerous dragon.

Not quite, my dear.

The other cattle were watching with a sense of jealousy as Clarice was given the kind of deep, hard pounding that all of them had been deprived of for so long, but when they saw Seymour licking his lips, that excitement slowly faded back into fear, even if Clarice didn't quite realize what was going on just yet. The other girls started to whisper to each other in hushed tones as Seymour stood upright, still holding Clarice in his clutches...

...And his jaw unhinged.

"Wait...wait a minute! Aren't you...aren't you supposed to whisk me away to your mountain hideout, now?" Clarice asked, her lower lip starting to tremble with fear once again as she could see Seymour's jaw starting to open wider than she realized it could.

Afraid that isn't in the plans, Seymour thought, as Clarice started to wiggle about in his grasp. She still couldn't be sure if he was just taunting her with the prospect of being eaten, or, perhaps, if he was finally just going to speak. There was no way for her to be sure, right then...though her answer didn't come with a voice.

It came with razor sharp fangs, smokey breath, and a wide, open maw, looking every bit like a moist, fleshy cave that Clarice knew she wouldn't be coming back up from.

"You...you can't be serious!" Clarice protested, about to reach out and smack the dragon in the face, until she felt Seymour squeeze her arms into her side, trying to narrow her body as much as possible. "A-after we just had sex, you're still going to eat me?! But...but I'm full of your seed! That's vile!"

Every word of protest may as well have been left unsaid. Seymour had no concerns for the fear of the cattle he held, and in his mind, everyone had to eat; Clarice just had the misfortune of being both his fun, and his meal for the day. Her legs, dotted at the end with powerful, solid hooves, tried to kick Seymour in the chest, but her struggles were meaningless. With his long limbs, Seymour was easily able to hold her body far away enough from his own that all of the struggling in the world would just exhaust Clarice. She only had the option now to relax her body and go easily, or to squirm the whole way through the experience.

_I'll be damned if I'm going down easy,_Clarice thought, making up her mind on the matter, even as Seymour pulled her upper body that much closer to his waiting muzzle. The charred smoke of his breath nearly brought tears to her eyes, stinging at the corners of her bright browns and making her wheeze as Seymour opened his jaws just the tiniest bit wider.

What was once a slimy and slick delight upon her sex was now a terrifying appendage that only spelled her doom, and Clarice shuddered as the long, draconic tongue darted forth to taste the fur upon her cheeks. She really had been reduced to nothing more than a piece of meat, then, and while she squirmed and made a disgusted face at the thought of being eaten, Seymour just rumbled in delight at the subtle flavors that filled the coat of her fur as he licked it. There was nothing to stop him, now...no amount of wiggling about, no amount of helpless struggle was going to break Clarice free, even as Seymour pulled her further into his maw, into the warm, moist depths that awaited her.

The tiny nubs that were her horns didn't slow Seymour down one bit. He felt them pressing to the back of his throat as he stuffed Clarice right into his open mouth, face first, and even as her vision was completely taken away, she still writhed and kicked. Her hooves were flailing about in the open air of the bar as horror gripped the other cattle once more, and they watched in silent terror as Clarice was swallowed all the way up to the soft, supple flesh of her breasts, still dripping tiny, twin trails of milk from their stimulation earlier. It dribbled down the front of Seymour's body, shining brightly upon his neck and his onyx underbelly as he shamelessly gorged himself, soaking up all of the different flavors that he could with his long, slimy tongue.

It was bad enough that the other cattle had to watch in helpless fear as Clarice was sucked even further into Seymour's throat.

It was perhaps worse that Clarice was being swallowed whole...and was still alive to appreciate the whole experience, without missing a beat.

Gross gross gross gross gross!!! Clarice thought, as her fur and flesh was matted down with a thin coat of saliva. The once pleasant rumblings of the dragon who had surprised her with a vigorous and powerful mating were now a creepy and unsettling sensation upon her skin as she was sucked further down into his throat. There was no hope for escape now, and the people she once called her friends were of no help to her as her hooves wiggled about wildly one last time. Her ankles, spotted black and white like so many other cattle, were just barely visible, and kicking about angrily as Seymour started to rub his stomach, even before he'd finished swallowing his morsel.

_She just doesn't know when to give up...not like it's so bad! I'm just eating her...and I didn't even chew!_Seymour pondered, wondering just why Clarice was making such a big fuss about everything. Of course, he simply didn't have the comprehension of the situation that Clarice did, and he could have cared less about figuring it out as he swallowed her down far enough to feel his own seed spilling down into his throat. The hooves finally disappeared from sight in the dark, dingy barn, and with a quiet burp, Seymour closed his maw fully, his throat swallowing reflexively to kick Clarice all the way down into the pit of his stomach.

Clarice sat upright against the lining of Seymour's stomach, coated in juices that she didn't even want to think about the contents of. She pressed her paws into each and every conceivable surface, hoping for a miraculous escape from the dragon's belly, but with just a few presses against the surprisingly tough lining of his stomach, reality set in, and she hung her head slightly, wondering if this was all a punishment for her lustful nature.

It was just a matter of time, now.

**

The months continued on, and sure enough, Clarice wasn't the last of the cattle to disappear from the barns around the village of Valeborn. The local citizens remained too paralyzed with fear to do anything to stop the dragon, even when they saw it, but so long as he only seemed to take cattle from the barns, the citizens weren't going to do anything about it, anyway. In a way, it kept the village safe from danger; as long as Seymour was allowed to pick and choose his meals from a barn around Valeborn once or twice a week, he didn't ever do any kind of property damage, and the crops in the area grew as fruitfully as they ever did.

The cattle didn't mind either...at least, not at first. The story of what happened to Clarice was passed around the young, female cows that were harvested for their milk, but the story always ended after they spoke about how Seymour ravaged her body in a way that no male ever had before.

Whenever they were asked what came after...they froze. The rest was terrible, terrible, terrible, they would claim. Too terrible to tell.

What they didn't know is that keeping the second half of the story under wraps meant Seymour could satiate his appetite any time he wanted.

"You're really every bit as w-wonderful as they say!" cried out Wanda, another young cattle who had heard the first half of the legend of the dangerous dragon. She was on all fours in the barn, having quite literally invited Seymour to come and ravage her body when he made his way into her barn.

You won't be saying that in a moment, Seymour thought, as he slammed his hips into the young cow, pounding her body down into the dusty floor of another barn.

In a moment, you won't be saying anything at all...