Note: This is the first book of a series called the Cluvire Chronicles.
A version of book one was originally posted somewhere with the title 'The Bad Apple'.

Note: I am considering removing part two from this story. Part two does not further the plot or contain vore, it was not an original part of the story. For people who do not like scat, I advise skipping part two entirely.

Book One:
Dynasty's End


Once upon a time there stood a high towered castle in the midst of a fertile valley. There is very little left of that place, of the castle there remain only scattered stones and vast snarl of twining thorns. There is nothing left of those who dwelt here, but this is their strange story, and it lives on.


Part One

The castle was home to a old king, a man known for his just and kind rule. Although this monarch lived in luxury and was revered by the people of his realm, the heart which beat within his gray-haired chest was as heavy as lead.

The memories of his queen, now long deceased, and of the brighter, more adventurous days of his prime: these where the causes of the king's sadness. He was given to long and dull discourse on the degenerate times and the loss of virtue among the youth, he did however take great pride in his noble son; a boy newly turned man, and as vigorous and as bright a testimony to his family's grand legacy as could be desired.

The boy's tails of a carefree life as royal huntsman and sport managed to bring a smile to the king's weary lips, people noted how the creases in his brow seemed to lessen a little at the mere sound of his son's open voice.

As is the case with most only children, the king had always doted on the youth's fancy. When very young the boy prince was given a miniature ship to sail upon the ponds of the royal gardens. The next year the king procured (at the boy's request and at no small expense) a live hatchling dragon. The boy named his little pet "Volglem the Devourer" and, despite its ferocious name grew in captivity into a quiet, modest, somewhat myopic beast. But its owner was not disappointed much, for he had since moved on to other things.

Military matters soon intrigued young Prince Christopher. His father had him a miniature suite of armor forged, and a sword fit for his small hand. He had a pony brought to the castle and paid a platoon of midget jesters to act under his son's command. Many were the days when the castle's limestone halls and spacious yards resounded with the activity of mock battles and phantom sieges, but as the prince moved to the brink of adulthood, he chose the pleasure of the hunt above all these trifles, and the wood could be heard to sound with his happy trumpet call. The tables of the greathall sprouted pheasants and boar, duck, dear and many other forest beast, each one with an exiting story behind its demise. The band of young noble huntsmen reveled late into the night, and the young prince was the most admired among them.


At this time the king was growing anxious for his son to marry, and so set about looking for a suitable match. Unfortunately the ratio of princesses to eligible princes was at an all-time low. There was only one princess within one hundred leagues who was unspoken for and her name was Bresella, the daughter of the neighboring king. This presented a problem because Bresella and Christopher had never gotten along well at any of their childhood meetings. Of course the king was loathed to force his son against his will, but knew that a royal marriage was for the good of all the people, and that it was time to set personal feelings aside.

One winter day he summoned his son to the high chamber. Prince Christopher entered in a burst of fresh, cold air, brushing snowflakes off his bright cloak and setting aside his longbow and quiver. He advanced briskly, his echoing footsteps bringing their usual cheerfulness to the gloomy administration chamber. His father sat on a high oak seat, a mournful glint of resignation in his eye. His son bowed quickly, raised his shining face, fresh from the frosty forest path, and smiled inquisitively at the unusual number of attendants and courtiers assembled.

"Father, why have you summoned me in the midst of the day? I hope that you are not unwell. " The king shook his head and spoke in a lackluster voice

"No, no. On the contrary I have good news." The monarch managed a week smile. "I have found you a wonderful bride."

The price clapped his hands and grinned, "My hopes are never lost with you, Oh happy day! Now tell me the name of my bride to be, and how fair she is, and how noble, and wealthy too I'd wager. Come now, speak the name father. "

The king shifted uneasily and replied as casually and as naturally as he could, "Oh, well, Bresella Gonofskie of course." The prince's face immediately fell and he dropped his voice. "Oh, tell me its not true, father, she is so, so fat, so bossy, it will never do, honestly father." The king reached out a hand imploringly "please son, she is our only viable option." The prince scowled, a insolent look came into his eyes. "I do refuse father, she is intolerable, unacceptable, I'd rather marry a village girl. I am sorry, but no." The king hardened his face. "No, my son, it is I who am sorry, for the arraignments have already been made, she arrives in three months time, you will have a royal spring wedding, and that is that. "

The prince was about to retort, but he saw the hardness in his father's face, something unknown to him. Feeling a rush of helpless rage and confusion rise within him he turned and rushed out, leaving the door open behind him. Not caring where he was going, feeling boyish tears rise up, he rushed down ancient flights of castle steps into the ever-darker recesses of the ancient fortress.

Eventually, he came to a rest deep in one of the moldering castle dungeons and thrust his face into his hands, sobbing uncontrollably. His stifled sobs echoed in the empty cells, like the forsaken voices of prisoners long dead. He was startled out of his tears when a vaguely familiar voice asked, "What is wrong dear prince?" Looking up Christopher beheld the massive, nobly head and wide golden eyes of a large dragon.

"Ah, it's only you Volglem" said the prince flatly, normally he would scoff at someone of such lowly a rank as 'castle pet' acting so personal, but his desire to express his anguish overpowered his pride. "My father will force me to marry against my will, to that dreadful hag, Bresella! "

The dragon smiled kindly and spoke, his teeth caching the dim light. "As I recall, Bresella is a girl with good spirit, and a strong will, (although I have not seen her since childhood) are you sure that you don't wish to marry her? You can trust me, it's only proper for a prince to marry a princess as you know." The prince scoffed in the week-eyed dragon's face, "she's a hag and a pig. And besides, why should I have to behave like a 'proper prince' anyway? Since when did you ever behave like a 'proper' dragon, you eat soup for heaven's sake, and you can't even breathe fire can you?"

The dragon looked at his large soup bowel and for the first time felt a little ashamed of it "It's good soup, formulated with bean powder for protean. And I can so breath fire." The prince raised an eyebrow dubiously. The dragon looked indignant. Turing his large serpentine body around towards the deep recess of a fireplace, he began to make a strained huffing sound. After several minutes a week spurt of flame issued from the dragon's mouth and ignited a dried fagot. With a yelp Volglem the Devourer leapt back. "What is it?" asked the prince "I burnt myself " the dragon whimpered. "You are pathetic. But I must say, you have grown quite a bit... what are you twenty some feet? I suppose the soup must do something. "

"I sometimes eat rats too, actually a lot of them" admitted the dragon. The prince suddenly had a thought that lifted his sprits.

He shook off his sulk and shivered, feeling the clammy damp. Laughing at the dragon's flame, he strode to the hearth and added some more wood to the struggling fire. The new flames illuminated a high vaulted chamber, the ancient heart of the castle. There was a tattered red carpet stretched over the uneven floor. Several bookshelves supported neatly arraigned odds and ends. The prince paced before the fire, casually stepping over Volglem's thick spiked tail. He looked up from his thoughts and faced his old pet "how long have you been kept down here?" The dragon looked sadly at the enormous iron shackle around his ankle. "About fifteen years, give or take " The prince closed is eyes as if in sympathy, than asked hesitantly "How would you like to become a 'proper dragon' Volglem? "

The dragon looked confused. Christopher clapped his hands, thinking his own thoughts, and not really listening for a reply. "We will begin with a simple pig tomorrow, in the meantime, well, I have a wedding to plan..."

Three months later...

Two forms slunk through the lovely moonlit castle gardens. The trees were in blossom, but the prince's mind was set on darker things. At his side, was the dragon's ugly brute frame, seeming out of place in the delicate surroundings of the garden, and it did not help the prince that Volglem had filled out substantially in the intervening months. Several times the prince winced as he heard a birdbath topple, or a rose bush crunch, Volglem spoke in as soft a voice as he could manage "ouch!" "What?" asked the prince in a sharp whisper. "I pricked my self " the dragon said piteously, and paused, "I'm not so sure this is a good thing to do prince, I mean your father will be mad at me, he told me never ever to eat humans. And how do we even know I can do it?"

The prince rolled his eyes in exasperation, and his fingers clenched around a heavy iron key. "Look, if you stop making so much noise my father will never know, and not only *can* you do it, you will enjoy doing it. You ate so many swine last week I had trouble finding new ones, the princess is not all that fat. Besides proper dragons find maidens delicious, and princess maidens most of all, so of course it's a good thing to do."

Volglem grunted uneasily "I don't see how someone's virginity can make them any more desirable to consume, are you suggesting she will taste better? "

"Uh! I don't know, but it's in all the books, look it up sometime, honestly." The dragon reluctantly moved forward towards the dark tower in the corner of the grand courtyard.

Once they crossed the moonlit space, the prince found that the window was too high for him to get at. He told Volglem to get ready to pounce then romantically chucked some pebbles at the window. Nothing happened. Listening in the silence they could here heavy snoring coming from the chamber. "Okay, second plan Volglem, it sounds like her bed is right by the window, so just go in and eat her, just like we practiced with the pigs, do you think you can manage that? "

The prince held his breath as the dragon approached the window. With a clumsy claw the brute opened the wide pains and looked in. then his head slid forward and disappeared into the opening. His neck suddenly strained with muscular activity and he braced his powerful forelegs against the wall of the tower. Volglem pulled his head out with a spasmodic jerk and lowered his body to the ground. He looked at the prince in confusion and distress. The prince saw that his mouth and cheeks bulged massively with a struggling form.

A foot burst out from between Volglem's leathery lips and was quickly followed by a robust calf and massive thigh. The strong leg was covered in shifting, glistening strands of saliva. No sooner had the prince taken this in than a hand appeared further up the straining mouth and plump fingers began prying vigorously at the hinge of the jaw. The poor bewildered dragon looked as if he could not take much more. Christopher sighed in exasperation and grabbed the leg, attempting to shove it back in. He was startled to feel how warm it was. He saw a fringe of silk lace for a moment, and then truly understood that this was a fellow human being, and that perhaps she was undeserving of this fate.

In the moment of hesitation the leg kicked him fully in the chest, sending him to the ground with a heavy grunt. However, the force of the kick also pushed its owner headlong into a massive gullet. The dragon's eyes went wide as the heavy struggling object occupying his mouth was crammed painfully in. He gulped massively as much out of instinct and an attempt to breath than out of any conscious intention. Abruptly, he felt that his mouth was empty, and he thought for an embarrassing moment that the girl had somehow fallen out and escaped. But then he felt a huge awkward tightness in his neck; this too nearly sent him into a panic at the thought of a jam, but to his great relief he felt that the tightness was moving. Soon it was gone, replaced by a warm, weighty and quite pleasant feeling in his stomach. "You did it!" said the prince in a tone of relief, "well done." Volglem gave a modest smile and nodded in pride.

The prince's mood suddenly changed back to one of exasperation and ridicule "Why didn't you just, you know, grind her up. It would have been so much less trouble." Volglem looked sheepish, "I didn't want to harm her. " The prince smacked his forehead in disbelief, then pointed at the dragon's soft underbelly, "well what do you think is happing to her now you fool, do you have any idea how horrid it must be to be digested alive?" the dragon admitted that he did not, and looked guiltily down at his stomach.

Feeling very self conscious of what he had done, he said earnestly to the prince, "I will go to the king directly and tell him what I have done, maybe his magician can magic her out before it's too late." The dragon shifted to get up but Christopher cried out in alarm "no, no, sit down, j-just think for a minute. It's not that bad really, I was too harsh. You are a dragon, a true dragon; your name is Volglem the Devourer for haven's sake! That is what you're *supposed* to do! Look, did you at least *like* eating her? " Volglem admitted that she had been quite tasty come to think of it, and that overall it was quite a fantastically pleasurable experience, but that he still felt rotten about it.

Christopher thought a moment and then said "But don't you see? Her pain is countered by your pleasure, nothing wrong actually happened in the grand balance of things." The dragon looked a little reluctant to admit this. The prince continued, "Come to think of it, why should you even care about her pain. Don't you think that every time she ate any kind meat she justified the animal's pain with her need no consume and enjoy? Why, scores of animals must have died to make such a fat damsel. How could you treat her in any other light."

"I think your right!" the dragon said thoughtfully, "I hadn't seen it that way before, but it seems so obvious and natural when you put it that way."

The prince breathed a sigh of relief "Good, I'm glad you understand, and now there's no need to bother my father with all of this, what did he ever do but keep you locked up and separate from all the delights that a dragon should have? Oh, and by the way, I think swallowing her whole was a brilliant idea!" The drake looked confused, "you do? But I thought you said..."

"There's no blood! It's perfect. Well let's go now before we are discovered."

They where about to leave when a noise caught the dragon's ear. He gestured to the prince to remain still, and then they both heard it. From the open window came the sound of deep snores. The prince looked up at the dragon in mortification. "If that's ...Who did you just eat, I wonder?"

The dragon once again braced his hind legs and stood against the wall. Once he had cautiously looked in again he whispered toothily down,
"There are two more beds, and two more people."

"Who? " retorted the prince "Who are they and why in the name of all things didn't you see them before?" The dragon looked shameful "well, you know my eye sight is not so good, they could be her ladies in waiting I suppose, or her Highness in person for all I can tell."

The prince ground his teeth in frustration. "Her maids. Of course! But what to do now? Ah, just eat them as well."

Volglem said dubiously, "I will try, but their bed's are further away." Slowly and steadily the dragon's neck slid into the window, the nobly scales making only the faintest noise on the stone casing. The dragon moved his forearms up until they were braced firmly on either side of the window. For a moment the prince thought he had managed to become stuck. But he soon saw the tell-tail tensing of muscles in the neck and shoulders of the serpent. The experienced dragon did not recoil as before, instead the prince saw his broad throat suddenly swell and so lift up his neck, so that the window was comically filled. The round bulge was ludicrously caught in the square opening. But soon it was forcefully squeezed through the window and continued down the underside of the knobby neck in and smoothly entered the dragon's large body. There was the muffled sound of a woman's scream, followed soon afterwards by another bulky swell in the dragon's throat.

The prince who was standing off to the side watching the whole matter saw how the dragon's body, which began close up against the wall for better balance, was at every heavy gulp awkwardly forced further away by the great bulge of the dragon's animal gut. Which by the end had grown so full that it forced his strong back into a strained and awkward arch. The dragon extended his atrophied wings to gain balance.

With a grunt of relief Volglem immerged from the window and fell heavily to all fours. "It is done." He exclaimed triumphantly. He surprised himself by suddenly producing a violent belch, so rich and enormous that he proudly thought, "That's the sound of a true carnivore." even though the prince scolded him for making so much noise.

Walking back across the courtyard in the silent night, the wicked prince was in high spirits. No more would he have to pretend to court that monster of a girl, he was free now, and she would soon be no more than a bad memory and a smelly heap of dragon's dung. The fool guard who tended the dragon was, as usual in a drunken stupor thanks to an unexpected pay increase, he would not know day form night, much less that any crime had been committed on his watch.

Already the prince was calling to mind the village girls who had caught his eye, "and the eye of a prince is not to be scorned" he thought. He would be free to leave the castle now and follow his own pleasures in the town until his father could find a better bride.

He congratulated the dragon for the execution of the task. "I'm sorry you had to eat all three of them, but if one of them had seen what you had done, or was the true princess, we couldn't take that risk. " The dragon grunted, "You know Christopher, I think the first one really was her, she tasted more, hmmmm...maidenly. "

A smile crossed the jaws of the dragon and the prince could not read the meaning of it. They stopped to rest in a lonely part of the gardens.

The moon was high in the night, and cast a silver light on the form of the dragon. "He is changed in some way, but how? " thought the prince looking at his massive pet. Volglem sat down heavily at the base of a large tree. The shock of his weight moved up the trunk and into the branches, loosing a cascade of soft pedals. They fell upon his great ugly snout and lightly caressed the sides of his full and engorged belly, from witch could be heard emanating bestial wet gurgles of contentment.

The prince placed a hand on the horrible bulge and sighed. "The poor girls, its impossible to know what they are going through now..." The dragon smiled at this despite himself, a thought had crossed his mind that he did not wish to share with the prince, not then.

The prince lit a lantern and commanded the dragon to open his mouth. The light illuminated the wet inside, the thick forked tongue lulling in a pool of saliva, the soft vane laced pallet and the chaotic array of teeth. The prince delicately pulled some tattered wisps of nightgown fabric from their embraces. He was struck by the size of cavern like recess, into witch whole animals and now entire humans had vanished.

The fleshy cavity suddenly opened slightly at the back as the dragon spontaneously belched once more. The gaseous upheaval brought some of the lovely taste of the meal back to the dragon's mouth, but to the prince it was an unpleasant blast of hot, rank air touched with a nearly imperceptible scent of womanly perfume. It spoke directly of the horrors that lay beyond in the dark, vulgar depths of the huge animal, and the prince quickly turned aside.

"oh, pardon me good prince. Um, might I ask when is the next time I can feed once more as a proper dragon? Next week perhaps?" the prince shrugged "I'll do my best" Christopher was too lost in thought to pay the dragon much mind; its part in the plan was over. Yawning, the prince led his engorged pet back to the dungeon.

Part Two

In every neat and tidy hotel room there is one. Any pristine restaurant or immaculate home requires one. Behind all luxurious places there is an unpleasant job. The unpleasant job behind the luscious royal gardens in the eastern wing of the high castle, was held by a short, stocky man named Flander. He was a gardener, but somehow always found himself doing the worst tasks of all the gardeners, tending the plants with the sharpest prickles, or disposing of dead pets, or cleaning thick clinginh layers of bird droppings from statuaries or knocking down hornet nests.

It was a few days after the mysterious disappearance of a visiting princess and her two maids. Flander had just awoken to a colder-than-usual morning, winter's last spiteful jab at his aging body. The sun had not yet risen, and chill wind gusted through the stone courtyards. It had fallen to Flander to take the morning shift, so there he was, the first gardener to work, hours before the warm nobles would even awake.

Head down, cloak rapped against the wind, Flander muttered his way towards an outbuilding.

Suddenly his nostrils were confronted by a smell so rank and overwhelming that he staggered violently. With a curse he looked up, searching for the source of the imposible stench. Ahead of him stood a line of wheelbarrows, each the property of a royal gardener. Flander saw with a sickening feeling that his had been singled out. It stood a space apart, and was filled beyond capacity with a dark and wetly glistening load. "Owc! It is dung." He said under his breath. He had asked his higher up's repeatedly to supply him with more fertilizer, and after weeks of delay someone apparently had decided it would be funny to have a little joke at his expense.

Grabbing a cloth from the shed and holding it to his face he approached. "I can't believe this" he thought surveying the situation. The heap of filth stemmed visibly in the cold morning air, it looked fresh, impossibly fresh. No flies had yet discovered it, no more than an hour old, or even minutes old. But he could not bring himself to believe that. Baffled, the gardener scratched his head. Where had it all come from, and how had it been delivered? The clods of manure were impossibly huge, and by the looks of it had been cast into his wheelbarrow all at once not shoveled bit by bit. At the same time the job had clearly been hasty and careless. Filling the barrow beyond it's capacity, the prankster had continued, letting a avalanche fall messily to earth all about the cart so that hardly any part of it was left visible. Flander kicked open a grounded clod and his bafflement increased. No grass or undigested plant matter was within.

He wondered if the mountain of animal filth would even be suitable manure. And what kind of creature was it from, and what in the name of all-that-was-holy had it been eating to make such a stench? He shrugged resignedly, as was so often his response to life. In so doing he put his questions out of mind and began to deal with the mess his typical misfortune had sent him.

He had his job to do, and if the nobles came to the garden before the heap was managed, it would be his head.

Groaning at the weight he shuttled the mess to stable and began mixing it with a large quantity of straw. He soon noticed the great amount of hair within the anomalous waste, long and unmistakably human. Recoiling at this realization he glimpsed something else in the pile, a sparkle. With trembling, filth caked fingers he extracted a fine cut diamond, the most valuable object he had ever held. Flander looked in amazement from the diamond to the load of manure. He was horrified and frightened by the now sinister pile, but he was also suddenly drawn to it, what other treasures lay within?

Greed pushed all thoughts of vileness from his mind, what he had a minute ago shunned as a vile curse he now grabbed at as his dearest position.

The renewed search began to yield other treasures, small gold bits, little pearls, silver buttons. No more would his family go hungry, his wife scorned, his house neglected. Seeing another diamond he pounced. This one was even larger! He laughed, his mind giddy from the shock of wealth no more than the noxious vapors.

Having nearly fainted he retreated from the barn. He soon came to his senses and began plotting.

He kept his treasures secret, and no one came within fifty feet of him that day for the horrible stench; a smell so potent it stayed with him even after several bathings. But what did he care? He was now the wealthiest gardener in the land. After a few days he finished his task of spreading the manure, then he quietly quit his work, knowing to well that it would be foolish to pry further into the origins of such an odd and sinister fortune.

At the same time that a gardener was discovering a life-changing load of manure, one noble at least was braving the chilly realm of morning. The Prince stampeded his feet impatiently to keep warm just outside the deserted dungeon gate. When Volglem returned from his errand the prince was in a foul temper. "I do hope you were discreet Volglem?" The dragon grunted in amusement, "It was impossible I fear to be discreet in such an action." This news further agitated the prince. "Well at least they won't suspect you, locked up as you are under the castle..." The dragon sighed, taking the hint and following the prince down the passage.

When they returned to Volglem's lair the prince breathed a sigh of relief, "Well that little unexpected complication has been resolved." The dragon's thick lip shifted wetly in a good-natured leer "I think the load was only was only 'unexpected' for you, I felt it coming days ago. I do at least, feel much the better now." The prince moved toward the iron brace on the floor and produced the heavy black key. "Wait." said Volglem. "You must first do something for me..."

The prince was taken aback, there was the same unreadable look in the dragon's eye that he had seen in the garden on the fateful night, and there was a new force in his voice.

"Prince- Clean me." The prince was at first confused by this cryptic demand, but the dragon turned his back and lifted his tail a little revealing dark, wet indicators of the beast's resent activity. Christopher blanched and stepped back, a thick loathing climbed his gut. "What?" his said huskily "How dare you." Volglem looked steadily over his shoulder, pushing the prince wish his eye.

"If you don't, suspicion will fall on me, and you know how sensitive I am prince, under torture I might let your name slip, now, clean me."
The prince took a peace of tattered carpet from the floor, wetted it in a cistern, and approached apprehensively. The thick sinuous tail lifted shamelessly and Volglem grunted in amusement at his revolted captor's reaction. Silently grinding his teeth the prince set about his task. Volglem's heavy rump filled his vision, He realized that new muscle and fat had transformed the once scrawny haunch into a robust mountain of flesh, the scales had become tight over the healthy flank.

The prince tentatively rubbed the rough cloth against the tender, un-scaled flesh of the beast's foulest place. Suddenly his anger and humiliation got he best of him. Hoping to cause some pain to the unruly beast he tersely pushed the cloth with spiteful force against tender muscle witch was normally protected by the heavy covering of the tail. He heard the dragon grunt, but not in pain, not pain at all.

He felt the immense bulk of the dragon lean into the pressure. For Volgelm, the moment was enhanced by the rich humiliation of the haughty prince.

Now he may have felt the prince should suffer still more. Or perhaps the pleasurable sensation engendered some relaxation, then again, maybe the spiteful pressure to his bowels was to blame, but at that moment the dragon broke wind massively against the prince and with an unabashed grunt of relief. The prince recoiled and, caching his breath in the fumes stammered, "I will not take this!" The dragon smiled, seemingly ignoring his word "Well done prince, and do pardon me, but your bride is most unruly yet."

The prince walked away. The dragon called out gruffly "Bring me a meal tonight, I want to keep being a real dragon"

As the prince ascended the stair, still gagging on the rich flatulence of the monster below, he told himself "I did what he asked because it needed to be done, it doesn't mean anything, it doesn't mean anything at all."

Below, in the gloom the dragon curled up and fell asleep with a smile. He had deliberately soiled himself with the intent of making the prince obey, for, despite the size of his load, he could have delivered it cleanly, if he had wished.

Part Three

The mysterious disappearance of Princess Bresella was lamented by all. Many theories circulated with varying degrees of believability. The prince in the meantime was engaged in a new, and clandestine form of hunting. It didn't take him long to find a girl to his liking in the town. He distained her poor bed, and so invited her to the castle for a moonlight meeting. "Maybe I'll bring some of my friends for your, ah, additional entertainment m'lord." She said in a silky voice that made that young prince's legs tremble.

He crept into the garden that night to meet his visitors. He stood near the hedge garden, trying to look as composed as possible, but the exiting tension of anticipation thrilled his body, and he hoped he could meet the girl's expectations.

Silently, as if born of shadows three forms appeared. The damsel he knew advanced and bit her lip flirtatiously. A corset emphasized her lithe and slender body, and her hair fell in lovely locks, framing her delicate face in a charming way, and falling in soft curls all the way to the soft swells of her breasts. Her heavy perfume was intoxicating, and the prince found, looking into her dark eyes, that all his composure evaporated in the heat of her glance. He stammered something incoherent.

Her voice was soft and smooth "I can see that perhaps the prince is not as experienced as he would like to be; but luckily I have brought all the best instructors."

"My lady you are mis--" the prince began, when some movement caught his eye. The high hedge rustled, and there was only one girl visible where there had been two.

"Where did she..." The girl said, but she was interrupted by the sound of leaves, as the hedge parted once more and the mighty head of Volglem the Devourer slid forwards, jaws hung greedily agape. In one snap and a gulp the second girl was gone. The prince was so confused he did not react, but as the dragon crashed through the hedge he managed to stammer, "Stop, I command you to stop." But his words had no effect.

The dragon moved with horrific speed. He lunged at the would-be lovers and greedily caught up the lovely girl in his drooling mouth. Her delicate hands flew up to protect her face and she uttered a cry of fright. The dragon's lip's and teeth held her firmly about the waist of her corset. Her long slender legs kicked with extreme rapidity as she was lifted off the ground. Dainty feet met only with air.

With a powerful muscular action the dragon snapped back his head, sending the rest of her body into his mouth, then with a mighty, bone crushing chomp of his jaws he ended her resistance and then swallowed up her body. Only then did he turn to the prince, who stood, an expression of furry and anger building on his bewildered face.

Volglem breathed deeply, greedily taking in the fragrant scent of the royal gardens in springtime, a very different scent than that in the royal dungeons. He fanned his leathery wings "What a lovely night for a stroll in the garden, or for a lady, eh prince? " The prince was livid, more at the interruption of his pleasure than the death of an innocent woman.

"How dare you. Couldn't you at least have waited a space, those girls were not meant for you! " Volglem grinned and said in his deep reverberating voice, "Yes I must say, they were far worse to my tongue than the others, you know, I don't think I tasted a virgin among the lot. Honestly good prince, what were you thinking? "

The prince was slightly shamed by this, and bizarrely felt the need to defend the honor the devoured girls

"As if you could possibly know by the taste! Or did you actually believe me about all that, I always knew you were a fool...But wait, how did you escape, beast? " The dragon idly dangled a large iron key from one claw, and the prince inwardly cursed his carelessness. The Dragon drew closer, his rank breath was heavy and sweet with cheep perfume; the mixture turned the prince's stomach.

"I believed your every word, dear prince, because my heart told me they were true. I do have a right to feed on the race of man, after all, like you said, her pain is countered by my pleasure 'nothing wrong actually happened' those are your own words Prince "

Christopher was beginning to feel vary uneasy around his childhood pet, he backed up until he bumped into a wall, the dragon keeping a steady pace.

Christopher forced a smile and gently rubbed the big scaly snout of the dragon as he had in days long past, the familiar reptilian skin cool to the touch. The prince made an attempt to regain his composure.

"I suppose I overreacted a little, If you were only to apologize (and I think you owe me that) then we could forget the whole thing." The dragon moved his head closer, so that he completely dominated Christopher's field of action. He enjoyed the sensation of the prince's soothing touch, but he also enjoyed intoxicating scent of the man's growing fear. He slowly took in a deep whiff of the delicious scent, it made him slightly dizzy, his large eyes closed in momentary bliss and excitement. Then he exhaled gently through his mouth, bathing the prince with his mighty breath.

The drake reached a clawed arm towards the prince and gently squeezed his side, feeling the monarch's softness, his vulnerability, and sensed the man's confusion at his action. At last Volglem spoke. "I think it is you, prince, who owe me an apology, and more than that even. For you showed me what a proper dragon is, and you have the responsibility to care for me as a proper dragon deserves. You may free a falcon and then return it to a cage, but dragons are not falcons. You left me in that dungeon, you never thought to return."

The prince interjected "but-" The dragon coolly put his hand across the prince's face, firmly stifling him "-All alone for many days with only that horrid soup to eat; an now when you do bring me 'proper' food it is lean, and sluttish flavored. Yes Christopher, you would have done much better to continue courting plumper, purer ladies, for as it is now, there is a deficiency in my belly that I did not know the last time you fed me. I feel as if the- (now what do you call it?)- ah, the 'main course' has yet to arrive. Only, thankfully, it has, hasn't it? I knew you wouldn't disappoint me good prince. I see that this was your intention all along, you would never deprive me of a decent morsel, and a virginal one at that."

The dragon sneered in derision. The prince's eyes went wide above the stifling grip of the dragon, and he desperately shook his head moaning fearfully. The dragon released him and licked his lips in anticipation.

Christopher was about to cry out for help, but knew Volglem could slay him before anyone could arrive. Instead he decided to try to reason with his rampant pet, now turned master. The prince spoke quickly "Volglem, you can't eat me, I'm a prince, I'm a fellow creature! Think what my father will do to you if he ever found out!"

Volglem paused seeing a chance to humiliate the young prince further. "Do you not hunt animals in the forest and absolve yourself of their pain by the pleasure of the kill and of the feast, why not I then? As for your royalty, well I have fed on royalty before, it's ever so delicious."

Volglem grasped the prince about his waist. Christopher, desperate to avoid the terrifying, the all-consuming maw that was opening before him, into which he had seen entire people disappear, began to kick and struggle with all his might.

The dragon found him surprisingly strong, and suddenly released him, realizing that the prize might escape him. The prince staggered back in surprise. The dragon smiled at him. The prince pushed sweat soaked hair from his eyes and looked up in confusion and hope.

"Your letting me go?" The dragon nodded kindly "Your life would be no more to me than me than a rat's, but it is you who raised me from a hatchling, I could never eat the hand that fed me. But I do hope you have learned a valuable lesson tonight: the clumsy, nearsighted dragon you played with in times past has developed an appetite; see to it that it no longer is neglected. "

The prince nodded ruefully and a tear of relief came to his eyes. He walked by the dragon back towards the castle. The prince found that his legs were trembling; he began to plan how to do away with this troublesome and dangerous pet. The dragon once again stopped in the courtyard and rested under his tree. He fished out the lantern that had been left a week earlier and handed it to the prince.

"One of your strumpets was warring a corset, and bits of it have gotten all mangled up with my teeth. If my keeper sees this he would become suspicious, people are still looking for a scapegoat for the disappearance of the princess. Be so kind as to use you nimble hands to dislodge them, I am such a clumsy creature. " The prince was extremely uneasy, but knew that if the dragon had meant him harm, he would have done it earlier. To his dismay he saw that a large peace of the corset was lodged on one of the deeply recessed teeth. Delicately, The prince placed his knees on the gums, between the dragons teeth, and wrinkling his face at the smell. As he pushed himself and the copper lamp forward, he felt the dragon's meaty tongue shift under his weight.

The prince froze overcome by an animal fear. He was now inside a living mouth. However the dragon took no action, and taking a deep breath the prince regained his composure. He pushed himself further up into the recess. But had difficulty grasping the object before him. Sticking his arm out of the dragon's mouth, he gestured for him to lift his head a little. The dragon gently lifted level, prepared to catch the price if he slipped out. Christopher pulled on the corset and grunted with the effort. As he worked he was all too aware of his unpleasant surroundings, a toothy death chamber of disturbingly roomy proportions.

With a feeling of infinite reprieve he felt the fabric dislodge. The dragon, who had been holding his breath until then sighed in relief, (for the article had caused him true pain). The sigh brought animation to the relatively sill mouth that Christopher knelt in. The space was abruptly thrown into motion, and he felt his elbows, propped precariously on either side of the tongue slide forward. His knees slipped into the cup of the jaw and were cut by a passing tooth.

Christopher was vaguely aware that the air had become more stifling, but when he turned to see if the dragon's mouth had shut, all the slippery surfaces, designed solely to facilitate movement in one direction only, all conspired to send his soaked body slipping forwards. The skip of the heart, and the dreadful lurching sensation, of a fall now took over his body. Like the man who looses his balance at the top of a high flight of stairs, Christopher spasmodically lifted his arms, as if to brace them against the lush pillows of flesh and sinew at the back of the monster's mouth.

His splayed hands slid over something plum, soft, quivering. Huge hot gobs of saliva formed on his hands as they slipped along, but it seemed as if the flesh here, at the bake of the cave, would hold him. But the sinews opened and gave way under the impact of his unrestrained weight. Everything happed so fast, from the moment the dragon had sighed in relief and so caused the prince to slip (ever so slightly at first).

Every action of the young prince was a desperate and strong attempt to stop the bulk of his body from sliding forwards, and every attempt was utterly futile. On all sides he was pressed firmly by dragon gullet, but so slippery was this strong, hungry embrace that it did not slow his motion. Panic gripped his mind, claustrophobia made his stomach seize into a knot as his flanks slipped unhindered into the throat. He opened his mouth but could not scream as he descended headfirst. He was halfway down the dragon's throat before the hopelessness of his situation, and
the shame of his demise fell upon his proud heart.

Volglem the Devourer was pleased that his ploy had worked so well, Christopher had saved him a good deal of trouble. With a firm gulp he sealed the prince's doom. His feast was roundly completed by the substantial body of the foolish prince. Volglem felt it's tightness slide smoothly into his stomach. As this inner chamber cordially swelled to welcome and hold the young monarch, the dragon perused his lips and mockingly remarked "Oops! How clumsy of me prince."

He grunted heavily, the four-course meal had proved even more filling than the one he had consumed a week before.

As he opened his golden eyes, he wondered if he could manage so much meat at one time. In concern he looked down and saw, much to his amusement that the prince's small light was illuminating a substantial part of his stomach from within. So tight was the dragon's flesh, and so dark the night that the light crated a strong rosy lamp of his heavy underside, the sanguine light laced with dark veins and red arteries. The light shifted and dimmed as the lamp moved within. The dragon ended the amusement with a rich, ground shaking belch and reclined against the tree.

He was surprised but not unhappy to feel a healthy kick from his princely captive: a very deep intimate sensation, bringing with it a fat feeling of satisfaction. The dragon placed a claw condescendingly on the full swell where Christopher was firmly confined, and patted it gently as if to calm the agitated prince. In a low, somewhat slurred voice the dragon said "You once said it was impossible to know what it is like to be inside there... " The dragon knew that like the light, the novelty of the prince's life would soon be snuffed out, "But let's see if you can struggle a little longer, if you try really hard, you might even make me a little uncomfortable dear prince, but your mine now no matter what, just as I was yours so long ago."

The Dragon thought back to the days of their childhood, far from compelling regret, this only made the demise of the prince all the more delightful and fitting to him.

Volglem the Devourer considered what he should do now, for that night he had escaped with little intention of meeting the prince, and none at all of finding his company. He had been on his way towards the forest when by chance he had seen them on the king's road and had become interested with their business in the gardens. Now he considered going to the king and flaunting his gorged body. He wanted to see the look on the old man's face when he saw how his only pride, his dear boy, the skilled hunter, had been so foolish as to allow his pet to swallow him. But the dragon knew that the king would then surely have him slain, so he determined to follow his original plan.

Later that night, as he strode with awkward steps (his swaying belly forcing him to splay his legs a little) he saw a cottage. As he approached, a man in peasant's clothes came out with a lantern to meet him. When he saw his visitor was a fierce dragon, he was naturally a little afraid. But the dragon spoke in gentle words, asking to shelter in the man's house. The man looked uneasy at the suggestion, saying that he had little room and that no strangers should be admitted. But seeing that the dragon could enter his house whether or not he wished it, and that the beast had recently feasted and was slow and sleepy, the man reconsidered and opened the door.

The serpent wriggled his bulk through the small opening like an eager snake invited into a mouse hole. He made himself at home. Inside was a young woman with long amber braids seated at a spinning wheel. She gawked at the dragon as he entered but made no sound. The man (her brother) followed and closed the door. A large fire was burning in the hearth, and the dragon lay down next to it with a contented sigh.

"We are but humble woodcutters here, but you are welcome to all we have." Volglem nodded his head in acknowledgment.

He thought they deserved an explanation for his presents and occupation of more than half their house. Already he had inadvertently crushed most of the furniture and goods under his bulk. "You may not believe me, but I am prince Christopher " he said in an amiable tone. He proceeded to tell the wide-eyed peasants the sad tail of how he had been magically cursed to exchange bodies with a vicious dragon. He told how the princess Bresella had allied with the dragon in prince's clothing, and conspired to kill the king, How he was forced to devour the two and all their servants, how he regretted their deaths so much and so on. By the end he was weeping outright at the sorrowful tail.

So detailed were his descriptions of the palace, the two humans were inclined to believe him. When they learned that this was the eligible prince, still in search of a bride, they suddenly changed their attitude towards him despite his unfortunate form. They ransacked the house and found every pallet and scrap of fabric. They placed them under his royal flanks and neck. Being peasants they soon ran out.

The man said not to worry and went out to go to the neighbors (a full two miles distant) to obtain more. He gave his sister a meaningful glance on his way out. She moved close to the dragon who was recumbent on his side, letting the fire warm his projected stomach.

He grunted a little, ignoring the girl's aggressive attempts to converse, and rubbed his gut gently. Gretel, as she was named, gasped in dismay and asked if he was not at ease. She gently placed a soft hand on the dragon's tight gut, and was encouraged by a smile on his toothy mouth. She pushed down on the heavy swell, which responded with a noise like fluid thunder.

Volglem moaned in pleasure and sleepily pushed his middle forward into the girl's tentative caresses. Gretel was knocked over, nearly into the fire. Her legs were firmly pinned under the dragon prince, but he seemed not to see, or care. Not really sure of what to do, Gretel continued to stroke the dragon and aid his digestion of such a massive load. The drake was about to fall asleep when he felt the maiden's hands venturing onto other parts of his body. "If she thinks that will win her the favor of her prince, I see no reason to stop her." Thought the dragon.

The brother, Marten, returned soon afterward and seemed to turn a blind eye to his sister's actions, which had become quite strenuous by then. Rather he opened a small cask of oil and began to rub it into the dragon's neck and underbelly. He mused, "Whether or not this beast is indeed the prince, we should humor him, lest we become his next meal." The warmth of the fire, the fullness of his cushioned belly, his pleasure wetly spent in the maid's lively embraces, and warm massages all combined to send the dragon into a deep sleep.

A small cottage with a large dragon is not a pleasant place to spend the night, especially if the dragon in question has gorged his utmost on raw meat. But the peasants never complained or even mentioned his Highness's rather rich gaseous responses to his meal, though the putrid scent never truly left the house.

In the early gloom of morning the dragon awoke and slunk from the cottage without saying a word of thanks for the exhausting work the two weary peasants had preformed for him throughout the night. His leathery nostrils where flooded with the crisp morning air. Under the shocked gaze of his hosts, he proceeded to their modest ditch latrine casually filled its capacity twice over. When he had finished the dragon yawned widely and considered how his new friends could be of further use to him. Walking back towards the hovel he wickedly licked his lips.



End of Book One