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The Other Side of Folklore	By : 3picurean Category: Fairy Tales, Fables, Folklore, Legends, and Myth > Folklore Views: 29082 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All stories and characters are fictional. I own nothing, much less folklore. .

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From WIkipedia, because I'm lazy:

"The Cù Sìth Scottish Gaelic pronunciation: [kuː ʃiː] (also Cusìth) of Scottish mythology is an enormous, otherworldly hound, said to haunt the Scottish Highlands. Roughly the size of a cow or large calf, the Cù Sìth was said to be dark green in color with shaggy fur and a long braided or curled tail. In Irish mythology the Cù Sìth was said to be an immense, coal black hound with glowing or flaming eyes. The Cù Sìth was feared as a harbinger of death and would appear to bear away the soul of a person to the afterlife (similar to the manner of the Grim Reaper).

According to legend, the creature was capable of hunting silently, but would occasionally let out three terrifying barks that could be heard for long distances, including by ships at sea. This was said to be a warning to farmers to lock up their women, lest the beast abduct them and take them to a fairy mound (Scottish Gaelic, sìthean ) to supply milk for fairy (daoine-sìth) children. " -wikipedia on "Cu Sith"

This is corroborated by "The Mythical Creatures Bible: The Definitive Guide to Legendary beings. By Brenda Rosen.

The Scottish Highlands are pocked with mountains, gigantic walls that separate small towns and havens from the rest of the world. In one isolated village, the farmers toil under the foggy sky. They do not venture far from their homes, but instead keep to themselves. On one side of the village, there are no mountains, but an impenetrable mist hangs over that horizon. This side faces the damp, boggy moor, which the villagers are even less prone to visit. It's swampy depths are inhabited, though not densely. The people there are dark haired and slight of build, and say they have lived where they do for as long as man has been on the island. Throughout the bog, there are old mounds which were built long ago, which some say once served a funerary purpose. Such barrows can be found throughout Scotland, England, and Ireland. Every night, the farmers retire to their homes and lock their sisters, mothers, and daughters behind doors of cold iron- which is impervious to the faeries, so it is said. Every night, the ground shakes thrice with the thundering bark of a demon hound, and the Scottish farmers and wives all huddle in silence, not daring even to move in their beds for fear of rustling under the blankets. The beast is called a Cu Sith, or Cu Sidhe (pronounced Koo-shee) which literally means "fairy hound". This town was cursed, but as Kirsten would always say, "It's my town." Or rather, given how prevalent the Scottish dialect was there, she said "ma toon". The Scottish tongue has many similar sounding words, but many are wholly original as well, such as "stramash" (commotion) or "gloaming" (dusk). And as the gloaming came one night, there was quite a commotion. Many of the people, including Kirsten, were downing stout at the pub, and Kirsten was developing from fine rosy cheeks from the drink. A sepulchral howl from the moor wrung the color from many flushed faces. A few eyes glanced toward her uneasily. Her friends had headed home without her noticing, and she was out late more than was safe for a pretty young girl here. 'Christ, am feelin' awfy full. Am ready ta boak." She muttered as she headed out of the pub unsteadily. She swore loudly as she nearly bumped into someone on the street. Her coarse way of speaking was surprising, in contrast with her delicate features. She knew bawdy rhymes, but her brilliant smile betrayed none of her mischief. She had gotten in trouble before, for certain, but only at sunday confession- she had no reputation. She had done penance today for fashioning a carnal device for herself, and the less people knew about that, the better. "Full" as she was on beer though, she was mischievously considering going home to plunge the massive piece of hide-covered wood into herself. The wind made her long dark hair writhe, and gave her a sort of delicious chill. Yes, she'd go home and stuff her "drookit fud" like her husband never could. The hungry dampness beneath her skirts, though she did not know it, released a heady scent into the air. Three barks wracked the air and the hound's nostrils flared, and quickly the hunter pursued.

She was nearly home. The door to her house had been shut, but surely she wasn't locked out? A test of the knob quickly showed this to be the case. Her husband had locked her out! She frowned and banged loudly on the door, swearing at him. A low growl made her whirl around, pale with fright. In the shadows, she saw the fairy hound, black and coal-eyed, as large as a horse. A cloud let slip a moonbeam, and she saw on second glance that the black hound actually had a dark greenish tint. It was monstrous in every way. She heard it said that Cu Sith had curled tails, but the massive, furry spiral that trailed behind it, rolling and unrolling gracefully, was hypnotic. A pale greenish light emanating form the tail transfixed her, and she knew that unnatural forces were at work within her. She whimpered slightly, and then once more with more loudness. The canine nature of the sound escaping her throat shocked her. Her nerves failed her, and she collapsed on all fours. The dog circled, inspecting her with his long snout. When his massive, arm-length nose poked beneath her skirts, she felt the most delightfully frosted air chill her nethers from the ghostly hound's breath. Kirsten was aghast at her arousal. She shivered, her nipples standing on end. The dog tore her undergarments suddenly, with a jerking motion, and began to lap at her. The coarse, wet tongue abraded her clit pleasantly, and then delved deep within. Kirsten's face lit up with a carefree smile, and she daringly loosed her large breasts from their corset, letting them dangle over provocatively. Nothing she had done to herself could have prepared her for this, and certainly nothing that her man had done to her. She keenly felt the power of the massive beast behind her, and was cowed by it. In her fear, she held still, not wanting to antagonize the majestic, horrible thing. The dog licked at her eagerly, sniffing her pussy as she waved it tantalizingly in his nose. She couldn't help it any longer in her drunk, enchanted stupor. She was damnably horny, and enjoyed grinding her cunt against the dog's face, making it lick all the more urgently. She felt she was speaking to the fairly hound by doing this. "Am yer bonny bitch, cam ben, cam ben!" She gasped, just in case the message did not get across. She was shaming herself in this bestial coupling, she knew. The cow-sized hound rose up on his hind legs, howling as it regarded her with hellish eyes. Its cock was beyond anything she had fashioned, fully twelve inches. It was dark black, and dripping with wads of precum. She closed her eyes as the hound entered, snarling with burning eyes. The fuck was rough and animalistic, making an unmistakably canine whimper escape her.

"Christ, yes. Hae yer thrawn way with me." She gasped, kneading her tits. Her bosom was well-matured, the bust of a woman who has had children. Little did she ken that these were in part what the hound had selected her for. Kirsten had long known she possessed a love of filthy language, and she let hers loose as she obediently bent over to be mounted and fucked. "Oh, tak ma drookit dug lovin' fud! Oh!" (Take my dripping-wet, dog-loving pussy). Kirsten was loud and vocal all the way. Her breasts heaved as she was rocked forward, cum pumping into her the whole time. The cock was hot, fiery even, moving massively within her. She gave a strangled moan as she climaxed hard. Her eyes watered from the intensity. The hound gyrated a moment longer, and then pulled out, coating her in his seed as if to say "mine". The fair maiden sighed and passed out. The Cu Sith wasted no time in dragging the comatose young lady back home with it, carrying her by her skirts all the way to the moor, and from there, all the way to the barrow mound. She awoke to find that she was already swollen-bellied and pregnant, soon to bear a fairy child, and that she was producing copious amounts of milk. She spent the whole night having that milk suckled from her by pale young fairy children, and the occasional greenish puppy. When she gave birth, she was impregnated again, and the milk never stopped flowing. The hounds kept her pacified, fertile, and young for centuries to come.
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The Other Side of Folklore