Fox's turn to watch as the tiny figures frantically scrambling as the giant callously steps on them, their bodies vanishing beneath his pounding tread. The city itself is in a state of stunned disbelief, since news tends to get as bogged down as the people in the crowded streets do in their flight.

Darklurker chuckles and makes a mental note not to squish the fox as he continues to herd the human sheep with his paws, stepping on the stragglers that fail to run fast enough. They probably won't taste good enough anyway. An occasional kick sends more littles flying through the sky, their broken bodies bouncing off the sides of the buildings before crashing down into their fellow men as chunks of dead meat. Alas, a single dragon isn't enough to corner the bulk of the city into the area, as several small groups break away from the main crowd. DL growls in displeasure and swings his tail at one group making a break for it, sending them back into the crowd. Then, he takes a deep breath and sets the streets and buildings alight, blocking any more escape in that direction.

There is no time for them to plan an orderly escape, so suddenly has the deadly intruder appeared. For now there is nothing but blind flight, a frantic rush to avoid the titanic crashing feet, lest they be crushed beneath the giant's weight. The huge tail smashing through their ranks drives them back into line, and the sudden raging fire on the other side ensures that they travel in a straight line. They stumble and scramble ahead of your descending toes, driven by the simple fear of being trampled. Very soon they begin to encounter others who are not as fast and their flight slows, their numbers packing in more densely, until they literally begin to climb atop one another.

Darklurker takes another breath and then lets loose another jet of fire down the other street perpendicular to the one he just set on fire, trapping the huge crowds in a very small quadrant of the city. Some try to brave the fires, but are driven back by the intense dragon fire that starts to transform the roads into hot black tar. With a soft chortle, the dragon leaps across several low buildings , his wings spread to stabilise his leap, right into their midst. Those not caught under his feet squeal, their cries so high pitched and filled with fear. Those under... well, there are a serious of crunches and sounds of exploding flesh, but most of them is drowned out by the thunderous boom of the dragon landing on top of them. Blood oozes from beneath the dragon's feet and into the paw shape craters, and a few, only partially caught, scream as they try to crawl away. The dragon snorts down at them, and grinds his heel into the ground, squashing them like the bugs they are.

The sound of crunching bones rises even above the screams as the monster contemptuously grinds his victims to death beneath his foot. For the rest there is only one thought: flee! That is impossible, though. So tightly are they packed in that they can barely move, the press of the crowd trying to avoid being roasted alive by the flames combining with the press of those trying to push away from the mammoth claws, so that the result is that nobody can go anywhere. Even those pressed up against your toes and soaked in the blood of the mangled bodies beneath cannot help but be pressed up agaisnt them. It is like a carpet, each individual a living fiber rooted to the spot.

Darklurker grins and starts to walk down the wide street. The dragon lifts and then stretches his arms and wings with an over exaggerated manly flair, almost as if he's onstage, and his stage is one lined with hundreds, if not thousands of different coloured 'carpet fibers'. He goes spins around once he reaches the section of the street that's on fire, the flames not even bothering the dragon the list and retraces his steps to the other end of the street.

The color of the 'carpet' starts to change, as several domaint shades just to emerge: crimson red, grey and black. The dragon lfits stretches his arms and wings once he arrives at the other end of the street, his feet soaked in blood, complete with several bodies wriggling on his talons as they're pierced by the huge talons.

Darklurker spins around and grins back down at the crowd. "Nothing like a stroll to help build your appetite..."

Shrieks of agony are cut short as the dragon's immense feet slam down on the helpless captives. Each footfall makes a dreadful crunching/splattering sound. Red, perfect prints cut across the crowd, their outlines matching the dragon's foot exactly, the contours of the mangled flesh within a cast of his sole: nearly whole, twitching bodies where there are hollows, and nothing but red paint where the flesh meets the road. Each time the monster strides forward, meat peels from the underside of his foot and splatters down on the heads of those below. Those who are not driven mad with terror by the brutal display of power and dominance are certainly struck dumb by the dragon's scornful, sneering threat. He is not content simply to crush them underfoot. He intends to eat them.

Darklurker rolls his head and yawns toothily, showing off the dragon's arsenal of fangs and teeth as he drops to a crouching position and starts to 'creep' down the street. The dragon's slower pace makes it easier for those who are fit and not hurt to flee down the street... only to be plucked up by the dragon's hands as the choicest snacks. The others can only yelp and scream in utter fear and pain as a shadow grows around them, and a earth shattering thud reduces their existance to a stain on the ground. The dragon chuckles and pauses briefly to snack on his fistful of food, dropping them one by one into his maw. The first two are shredded into strips of meat, making the dragon's maw even more moist and slipperly as they slide down his throat nicely. The others however, join their sliced comrades, whole and intact as the dragon swallows them whole like oysters, each one making a small lump in his throat as they travel down into the dragon's partially filled belly. "Mmmm," he dragon rumbles. "Meat is still the best, especially living meat...

The horror of the scene is increased tenfold by the beast's cruel gloating. He speaks their tongue; knows that they can understand him; WANTS them to understand what he intends to do to them, and that their suffering delights him. They stream away from you as you squat down, fleeing before you, too terror-stricken to think of trying to get behind you and out of sight. The bloody footprints are filled in as the crowd rushes into and over them, and soon the 'carpet' is repacked. There is nothing to do but scream in helpless, mindless fright as thick, mansized fingers hover overhead, then descend to pluck choice meat from the crowd. Those victims howl and kick as they are pinched between your fingers and lifted toward your nightmarish maw. Smooth and meaty, they wiggle delightfully as you gulp them down; the elongated lumps rolling down your throat can still be seen twitching before they disappear, an awful testament to the fact that your prey is still alive when it is swallowd.

Darklurker's belly rumbles and churns the new arrivals contently as the dragon continues to make his way down the street, back towards the flames where the littles are cowering away from, not quite sure which is a worse fate, burnt alive, eaten alive or stepped upon! It also roasts them quite nicely, adding a little flavor without killing them. The dragon soon clears most of the streets, leaving only several smaller clusters of survivors who have chosen to hide and barricade themselves inside the buildings. Panic starts to spread among the crowd still trapped there, and a few make the decision to leap into the flames, only to be mired by the molten tar and writhe in agony as they burn to death. The dragon chuckles mirthlessly at the sight, "That's the fate of fools who decide to escape the dragon's wrath. For the rest of you, your pain will be marginally less than them." He then drops down to a sitting position, spreading his legs in a V shape to touch the buildings on the side of the street. His sole is barely a few feet away from the dragon flames, and the meaty remains on them are starting to sizzle, the blood boiling away. This gives the dragons an idea, and he plucks 6 members of the crowd, and skewers one on his each, letting them roast slowly as he turns his attention to the others between his legs.

There is a wholesale surge forward as your captives try to avoid being sat on. It is purely an instinctive response to shy away from your descending rump, but now it becomes clear in retrospect that they would have been better off being squashed under you. They are trapped now between your legs, huddling together and yowling in terror, their ears ringing with the sound of people being slowly roasted alive, impaled on the uncaring monster's claws. They peer up at you en masse, their eyes pleading for mercy, while within you a small army of human meat kicks and beats at your wet stomach walls, struggling to avoid the squirts of hot liquid that melt the very flesh from their bones wherever it touches.

Darklurker watches his amusement as the littles scuttle away from his rump in a wave, but he'll sort that out in a moment. He has to take care of feeding first, and his hand swoops down along the crowd, plucking fistfuls of them, and stuffing each fistful into his maw, like a truly greedy dragon. It's impossible to swallow that entire mass of bodies however, and the dragon crunches down slightly, compressing the wad of food. Those caught between his teeth are killed, along with those right in the middle. But the others have to endure far worse, as the dragon's throat tilts up and swells around them, swallowing the entire load at once. They tumble down into the dragon's belly, joining the others who already in there, screaming as they desperately try to avoid the torrent of juices that seeps from all around them. Some of them even fighting and pushing others into the pool, and then using them as rafts in a vain attempt that it would dilute them long enough. The dragon meanwhile continues to feast, enjoying the constant rumbling and motion in his belly. It is gradually starting to fill though, and the living and the dead are packed into a twitching layered mass of digesting flesh.

It is like a deadly lottery for those trapped between the walls of muscle that surround them -- muscle that, ironically, has been fashioned from thousands of recycled human beings over years of predation. Screams rise in a chorus as the mighty hand descends, fingers outstretched: who will it seize this time? Ten, a dozen, maybe more cry out as they are covered by the broad palm, and before they can push their way out from beneath it the huge fingers curve downward, sweeping inward, closing like a cage and pressing their neighbors up tightly against them. The luckier ones are buried in the center of the clump and do not have to see what is coming. Those near the outside though, are presented with the sight of the ground dropping away rapidly, a sea of dispairing faces retreating below, then the landscape spinning to be replaced by the dragon's open mouth looming below, his throat gaping, eager to accept them. Those below watch in stomach-lurching dread as the monster stuffs his helpless, shrieking prey into his mouth, grunting around them, swallowing greedily, his powerful stomach swelling subtly as it fills with human meat. And then the lottery begins anew as the other hand rushes downward.

Darklurker grunts as his belly swells, and some of those nearest to him can even see the slight twitching there from the dragon's stomach. The dragon then plucks those who have been roasting on his claws, devouring them as desserts before glancing down at the remains of the crowd, he's almost totally full by now, yet hungry in other ways... by the horrific destruction, as his sheath has already partially swollen and it's inhabitant is just barely starting to peek out of its hiding place. "Now, my prey. You can choose to go where your friends are going... or you can pleasure me, and freedom perhaps will your reward," the dragon utters as he plucks one rather lively member of the crowd and plants him on the domed tip of his sheath, wedging him head first against his slit and then rocking him side to side with his fingers as the cock continues to grow. "Those who are slow to serve, will be punished very harshly."

A wholesale gasp rises and the crowd falls into shocked silence as that single, howling man is pinched between the clawed fingers and carried not to the monster's lips, but instead toward his colossal penis, which is already pushing like an ebon torpedo from its fleshy housing. His shouts and yelps are muffled as the dragon rudely crams the man's head into his piss-slit, and then brutally rubs him from side to side, working his shoulders in as well, leaving his legs kicking wildly agaisnt the underside of the dome. Some of them, driven to desperation, stumble forward and press between your legs, where you can feel them stroking slavishly, worshipfully at your enormous balls, while the rest hold back, rooted to the spot with unreasoning horror.

Darklurker watches intently as parts of the crowd shifts forward to serve him, and he offers them a sample of harsh punishment by plucking one of those who had remained still and lowers him to the dragon's rump. The dragon lifts one cheek and leg slightly, and shoves him into the opening, letting out a soft rumble of pleasure as the little is left half wriggling in the opening. He then sits and awaits the crowd to serve him, as they can only crowd around his ballsac and offer their hands, to pet the huge organ. The dragon glowers at their pace and then drags himself about a foot closer towards them, rolling his balls over those closest to him, trapping them beneath the heavy orbs, where their struggles continue to fuel the dragon's lust. "The generous offer is going to expire soon, littles," he growls down at them as he reaches to grab another handful, and he squeezes this bunch forcefully against the length of his shaft, pulping them instantly in a spray of blood and gore. He strokes it several times before hurling their mangled bodies away. "Serve me, or be like them."

They gasp again, and shriek in horrified anguish as they watch the dragon callously stuff a pleading, stammering citizen into his ass. The little legs kick frantically before they disappear beneath when the dragon sits back down. Now the crowd pushes forward en masse, retreating with a shriek as you grind your rump forward and bury several of the most devout beneath your scrotum. Now they cower in the shadow of your towering, gore-smeared erection. Those closest stroke eagerly at your vast ballsac, while those who cannot reach jostle for a spot, and then when they cannot get close enough, they try to placate you by rubbing their hands and bodies against the insides of your thighs.

Darklurker mmms, their renewed enthusiasm is well rewarded, for the dragon does not prey upon those pressed against him... for now. He scoops up several others who are milling about, searching for a place to stroke the dragon and clamps them against his cock. "Wriggle," he orders as he strokes his cock, slowly. The blood of their friends makes it slick enough to avoid ripping them apart, and a tiny rivulet of pre is starting to flow down from the tip of his cock, as the 'slit plug' gurgles and gags in the liquid. As however, there's bad apples in every crowd at the dragon spots a few hiding in the shadows. He swings his tail towards them, coiling it around them like a impossibly sized python and then thrusts the whole lot up his tailhole. The dragon twitches and surges upward at the explosion of sensations as the lot squirms actively to escape, and he starts to subconsciously bring his thighs together, closing it in on the crowd by his dragonhood.

It is an order that does not need to be repeated. They writhe wildly, fleshy little bodies squirming and stroking against the moist goo that coats your shaft. They pant and choke as blood and precum smears their faces, but they continue to work themselves to the point of exhaustion, desperate to please you, desperate to avoid feeling that mighty hand around them suddenly clench and squeeze them with an agonizing pressure against the unyielding shaft. The demand for unyielding obedience is constantly reinforced as any who tried to avoid the task are hunted down and snatched up. Those caressing your scrotum are treated to an indescribably view as the dragon raises his glute, and the would-be escapees are crammed brutally into his puckered anus, to suffer perhaps the most horrific torment of all. So fearful are your 'helpers' of arousing your wrath that they do not stop working. They simply squeal and gibber as the colossal thighs begin to press inward, pushing them against once another, squeezing them tighter and tigher between the immensely powerful walls.

Darklurker's thigh packs the crowd even tighter, but enough to crush them, except for those who have fallen and are trodden upon by their own kind. The dragon uses his free paw to scoop some further up, placing them between his abdomen and the base of his cock, where they can hear the screams of those still being digested inside as they stroke along the base of the dragon's shaft. The dragons's raising lust however, soon makes it difficult to keep his offer despite the best efforts of his catch. The littles are simply too fragile and weak! He grunts as he clenches the group in his ass, squeezing them hard as he pumps his handful harder. There's several protest squeals and then followed by a soft crunching noise as they expire. He growls and dips both hands into the group of toys and fetches another two handfuls. He cups one of them on the tip of his cock again, while clasping the other along the length of his cock, scrubbing them all along his cock as it trembles in their midst. "More! Harder!" the dragon roars as he starts to rock his thighs side to side, making the littles swell and surge against his balls.

The screaming rises to a panicked crescendo as your rocking flings your helpers side to side against your rock-hard thighs, and your enormous balls batter them mercilessly, knocking some of them senseless, breaking some bones. Red juice seeps from your anus as the disobedient are savagely crushed within your ass -- the true price of defiance. Those pressed against your cock flail and wriggle for their very lives, fighting to squirm out from between your palm and your shaft, which is growing hotter and more ominous the tighter they are pressed against it. The struggles to escape only stroke them over the trembling, needful organ, and those who are clasped against its flared head begin to sputter and choke as precum pours over them and threatens to drown them.

Darklurker's craving is slowly, but eventually sated with the help of this prey as he strokes himself off in front of them. Those who are paying attention to the dragon's head notice the dragon's breath is already panting, with sheer esctasy in his half closed eyes. Then, the dragon suddenly tenses and almost seems to raise before them. Those in his rump catch the brunt of the dragon's pressure as the muscles clench in hard on them, totally breaking the last of those still alive. Those pressed against the dragon's balls feel something surge within them, as they continue to stroke, while those perched right on his cock feel it stiffen even further and tremble violently, shaking a few off. Then, a huge geyser of cum blasts right into those in the dragon's paw, the sticky almost gel like liquid, spurts off from between the dragon's fingers and down onto the other. Those in there can only gurgle as the force of the eruption breaks their bodies and leaves them to drown in the gooey mess. The dragon's thigh then surge towards one another, like the walls of a trash compactor and crushes many, if not all still down there. Only those who huddled between the dragon's cock and his abdomen remain intact, stark witness to the dragon's climax.

Those few, battered survivors huddle against your powerful belly, cower before your spurting cock and whimper at the slaughter your orgasm produces. The screams of those who had been gripped in your hands is drowned out as thick, white cream gushes out from between your fingers, miring the kicking limbs, which steadily begin to grow motionless. There is an awful crunching, mashign sound as your powerful thighs clench together, grinding the helpers there into mush, their bodies collapsing and deforming as they are pressed flat. A pile of meat -- muscle, bone, innards -- surges up in the slight cleft between your thighs and blood runs over the tops like an overflowing bathtub.

Darklurker mmmms and lets his paw fall to his side, enjoying the afterglow of his climax as lifeless bodies roll off the top of his cock, although with thick gloubles of cum onto this thigh. The few survivors by his cock watch mutely, too afraid to even move lest they invite the dragon's wrath down on them again. The dragon remains still for a while, feeling the breeze generated by the fire before he grins down at the littles on his abdomen. "You have done well, and you shall be rewarded with golden riches," he dragon booms down at them as he wipes his blood stained paw on a building wall before picking them up. The dragon then raises and scans the buildings around him, and grins at the sight of a shopping mall. The dragon pads over to it and pries open the roof with his other paw, and the group that has been sheltered inside suddenly squeal in fear and try to flee as their cover is exposed. The dragon laughs and offhandly tosses his handful of toys down at them before he reaches to grab his semi-erect shaft. With a smirk, he delivers on his promise of golden riches, as a frothy warm golden arc of liquid sails down onto them, splashing them and swirling them about the floor of the mall.

The refugees in the mall let out a singular shriek as the roof is torn away, and the black giant's leering face looms over them, eerily illuminated by the firelight. They scramble in panic, some of them getting knocked down as the dragon casually flings a small handful of thinly-squealing bodies down into their midst, a gesture not unlike tossing garbage into a bin. They pile up against the doors as all try to push through them at once, and as they struggle they scream anew at the sight of the dragon standing tall over them, then lifting a huge foot and stepping overhead to stand astride the opened roof. He grips his mammoth penis in one hand, sneers as he aims it scornfully down at them -- and then they are swept off of their feet by the crashing torrent. Hot, liquid slams down into their mids, battering them around like bowling pins, washign them from one side to the next. They sputter and gag, vainly covering their heads with their arms as the dragon pisses on them and roars in amusement at the ... at their powerlessness before him.

Darklurker groans softly and drains his bladder down onto the occupants of the mall, letting them soak in the dragon's waste as they struggle to stay on their feet. The dragon snickers and gains a moment of amusement out of it as he blasts those trying to flee through the doors, bowling them tens of feet backwards. But soon enough the bladder is dry, and the dragon shakes off the last bits of fluid off it, when he realises that he has another call of nature. The dragon hmms at the height of the mall, it's a little low but it'll do. The dragon spins around and sits down on the edge of his mall, with his rump poised right over the huge opening he had carved out. The structure bucks under the tremendous weight, and the dragon has to place his paws on the adjacent buildings, redistributing some of the load as he lightens himself. With another grunt, the dragon empties the contents of his bowels down on those who had taught the tide was over and are deseperately scrambling for the exit, and are promptly buried under the remains of the dragon's hearty human feast. With the exit blocked by the dragon waste, he picks himself off and grabs a few of those huge advertisement banners to clean himself, tossing them into the open mall before he pads out of the burning remains of the city.

The survivors, battered and bruised by the force of the torrent, groan and struggle to disentangle themselves from those around them, and then the firelight is cut off. They peer upward only to see the dragon's huge, muscular rump hovering overhead, his tail raised. They screech in disbelieving horror, before they are buried underneath the remains of those the dragon had devoured. Tons of waist embedded with bones, sculls, clothing and other indigestibles crash down on them and silence their cries, and then the dragon wanders off, satisfied that he has reinforced the proper place of mankind in the Grand Scheme of the Universe.