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The Other Side of Folklore	By : 3picurean Category: Fairy Tales, Fables, Folklore, Legends, and Myth > Folklore Views: 29079 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All stories and characters are fictional. I own nothing, much less folklore. .

Chapter List
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Chapter I- Russia

Disclaimer:

Thus far, the dragon-like creature called a Zmey has been used. See Slavic fairy tales and folklore such as: Zmey Gorynych, Three Brothers and the Golden Apples. The "Zmey" is folkloric, and does not just originate from one story. Practically any Eastern European story about a female being abducted by a dragon or "zmey" (Russian) or "zmeu" (Romanian) or even Bulgarian folklore's so-called "Hala" are often essentially versions of the same tale, which this work is based on. Arguably the same figure takes the form of a whirlwind in some stories, or of Koschei the Deathless. In the "Four Brothers" the zmey places his head in the princess's lap and has her fondle him. See also "Nikita the Tanner", in which the zmey wishes to marry the maiden. In Bulgarian folklore, according to "Bulgarian Folk Customs" by Mercia MacDermott, women who are lovers of dragons pine away for them, and can even bear them half-dragon children with wings hidden under their arms.
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Our first story takes us back long ago, in a forgotten Kingdom of Kievan Rus- the predecessor state of Russia in early medieval times. In a certain province, there was a land ravaged by a zmey. The full nature of the creature was only half comprehended by the locals, preserved as it was through a long chain of oral tradition. Even so, in some places, people remembered how to appease such creatures. As it was in the homeland of Iva Svetkova, talk about zmeys was only indulgently overlooked by the clergy in the form of children's tales. The stories enthralled the young girl, as did those of all dragons. Those outside of Russia have other words, like “dragon”, which are essentially the same, but zmey have a number of their own characteristics, such as multiple heads- usually three or nine. Zmey can also control the rains, and that is why people sometimes gave beautiful young women to them. In some dragon stories, the dragon intends to eat the maiden he captures. In the stories that Iva Svetkova had heard whispered by gusli-playing bards and village story tellers in the late night taverns, there was another dimension to the kidnapping. One that gave her goose bumps. The dragon wanted exactly what prince charming wanted in those stories; he was a competitor.

Iva Svetkova was well loved by all wherever there was drinking and what might be called either merriment or mischief. She could sing hundreds of old-as-the-hills folksongs, and could draw any eye when she danced. This night was no different; a dark-bearded old Jew was fiddling alongside a diverse group of fellow musicians, and the fiddler quickly had the room hopping. She kicked and arched and spun, flinging her arms and legs out wide, smiling fiercely as her nut-brown hair trailed through the air. Her nose was small and graceful, though subtly aquiline. Her eyes were cold and bluish grey when she was solemn, but most of the time, they danced with the rest of her. They were full of light and amusement.

Iva was in fact the Boyar’s daughter, and her father did not like her associating with the commoners. He feared for her safety and her honor, though to date she had retained both. Deep down, Iva knew she was too good for the common louts around her, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want them to look. She laughed at the stares of drunkards and sweaty peasants after a day’s work as she swayed her hips, whenever her skirt flared outward with her motions, and whenever she bent over to reveal her shapely bottom, or to showcase the hanging cleavage of her breasts. There was a desperation to the celebration; the rains had not yet come. Her pale eyes flicked toward the entrance, where she saw Anastasi, a young noblemen of about twenty two years- four more than her. He was blonde, bordering on white. He had dueled two men to death for her already, but she was obstinate. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and valued by her father as his most dependable man at arms. He glanced around at her audience, as though reprimanding them, but then turned to her with a cool and respectful demeanor. “ You like these places.” He remarked. “I suppose with a little beer, it could be entertaining.” He concluded offhandedly.

So they drank. Iva was now dizzy when she danced, but few could have guessed by appearances alone. Anastasi walked her out, where the sun was now set. “You’re a beautiful dancer.” He remarked, and she smiled at him knowingly. He paused as a shadow passed over the moon. That's when the beast had come for her. No one remembers the hectic several minutes well anymore, but Iva probably had the most vivid experience of it all, because she knew what portent it held for her. She felt a rush of wind knocked him down, and Anastasi had to pull his face from off the dirt. To his horror, he found himself face to face with a dragon, three headed and covered in the scales of a serpent. It regarded him with fiery eyes, and snorted flame, causing him to dance back as his eyes watered from the smoke and rush of hot air. Iva could tell he was unmanned completely. All around, the villagers were screaming and rushing out to see the monster. “Give me Iva, and I will let your village thrive.” The dragon rumbled with all three mouths, and lowered a head to Iva’s level. She stared into its eyes, feeling like a mouse hypnotized by a snake.

That was how Iva came to be in her present condition; bound by her ankles to the roots of a tall oak tree. She was cold and hungry, and she had been decorated with flowers and jewelry to increase her value as an offering. She had been told of the good that her sacrifice would bring, and she had mixed but predominantly negative feelings. The fear gnawed at her slowly as she waited. She did not know how long she had been in the cold before a head slithered out from the cavern before her and tore her from her post, dragging her down into the caverns of the world below. She screamed, seeing the teeth snap down on the rope around her ankles and drag her. The snake had sharp, spear-head like incisors, she noticed, not just fangs. She dimly concluded that he chewed his food, rather than swallowing it whole like many snakes. She whimpered in the dark , hearing only the dripping of water in the cavern. Then the dripping grew louder and became a trickle, and then she heard the rumbling of a storm. The waters had been released… but at what cost?

She waited, and heard the sound of a horse riding near the mouth of the cave. The footsteps of an armored knight persisted for awhile, but there was a great commotion, and a human scream, and then the clink of armor faded for good. A cool hand grabbed hers, and she was pulled close to a masculine chest. Light flickered, and she saw a dark haired man with the slitted eyes of a snake. He looked young and princely, wearing fine clothes and finely groomed, but his tongue was forked. She sobbed as his tongue flickered. “Sorry for the wait.” He remarked smoothly, letting his hand slide over her to the base of her spine. “I had to deal with that warrior who was so fond of you. He tried to trick me into drinking the water of weakness and tried to drink the waters of strength that are hidden in my cavern, but I switched them on him! As he lay inert, I feasted upon him. His crucifix gave me some indigestion, but then, a Zmey of my size and age is not so easily undone.” He explained, using an outdated but elegant dialect of her language. To prove his point, his forked tong slid out and wrapped around her own crucifix, melting it. “I am infinitely older than that charm.” He commented with a hint of superiority.

His tongue trailed upwards, along her throat. She shivered. “Are you going to poison me and eat me?” She asked. He seemed to pause at this question. “I have different types on venom, my dear. You will learn that now.” He whispered, his voice growing husky and excited. She screamed as fangs penetrated the creamy skin of her shoulder. The venom quickly went to work incapacitating her, but not in the way she had expected. A warmth filled her abdomen, one she had often felt but rarely entertained. A hand tore her skirt, and removed all that lay underneath. His hand stroked her and callously inserted a finger into her. Iva made high pitched sounds as his fingers explored her slick and burning entrance, less fearful after a couple of minutes than they had been at first. He shredded the rest of her clothing for her, and took her nipples into his mouth, feeling them harden. His sharp teeth grazed her, and his tongue stroked her skin as it traveled downward.

Iva was still crying when he made it to her light, whispy bush, but when his long tongue forked into her depths, writhing and exploring her, she gave a loud, defeated moan. The venom was beginning to pacify her. Why was she sad? She could scarcely recall as her head swam. Why should he not use her as he pleased? His masterful tongue strokes brought her to an orgasm that obliterated even those scattered thoughts. She mewled as he withdrew, licking his lips with a satisfied smirk. He crushed his lips to hers, and their tongues met, circling. She tasted herself and still kissed harder in her daze. She drifted out, and let him use her for a good thirty minutes, pleasing her twice in that span of time.

She only snapped out of it when he inserted his finger into his mouth and deposited his venom upon it before turning her over. His finger slid deep into her ass. She protested in surprise, but to her mixed pleasure and shame, the venom made her ass tingle with lubricated readiness. She craved its violation, despite herself. He smacked it and commented on its fullness, causing a part of her to curl up and die. If the villagers could see her now, the broken pet of an unholy monster… well, they might just begin to touch themselves, in all honesty. “They stand at the mouth of the cave, hearing your echoes. I smell them.” The dragon whispered, his mesmerizing eyes plainly reading her thoughts. Powerful magic held her bound. She flushed hotly, and clamped her mouth shut. “I’ll make you tighten their pants yet. Now for the best part.” He said, grinning wickedly.

He began to change, taking his three headed dragon form. With a grunt, the dragon mounted her. She gasped as she was stretched by his girth. He was massive, but her soaked hole seemed to stretch painlessly, even tingling pleasantly. To her surprise, it was not over yet. In retrospect, the three heads might have tipped her off early on. Another member breached the tingling hole of her ass, causing her to gasp grind her hips. He bit her again, injecting her with a large dose, one that his human form could never have stored. Her hands went to her breasts and kneaded them as she screamed in ecstasy. As he rammed twin dicks into both of her sensitive holes, she began to whimper again, but her protests were smashed aside by an emphatic "Yes! Yes!" that exploded from her mouth. The second injection had transported her mind beyond the threshold; she was no longer moaning from sensation alone, but was growing intensely attracted to the reptilian form that was violently penetrating her orfices. She raised her shapely rear high in the air, pleased with the sensation of her mate's massive twin dicks nearly touching one another inside of her. A dazed grin had replaced her unhappy demeanor. "And I live happily ever after with my love..." Her perverted mind concluded before winking virtually out of existence. A third tendril, crowned with the head of a thick male organ, revealed itself, and Iva eagerly seized it with her rosy lips, sucking instinctively. The zmey plunged into her, mercilessly filling her womb and asshole with his seed as the thunder above rumbled, bringing rain. With cum dripping from her cherry-red lips, Iva Svetkova exulted, giving herself to the victor shamelessly and loudly, her panting moans echoing out the mouth of the cavern. She lapped the rain water that pooled in spots throughout the cave floor as the deluge made its way into the earth. As it mixed with the zmey's cum, she found its cool sweetness satisfying in a way that transcended either thirst or lust. The land was made fertile, and so was she, to her inarticulate joy. And whatever else you may say about her, she did live happily ever after. Her many sons are in our world to this day, indistinguishable from any mortal man when they wish it. If any lady meets one, I advise her to stay away. Then again, Iva would advise you differently.
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The Other Side of Folklore