FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Written by Choice Cuts Deli

Commission for ArielCelestia | December 2021 | 7206 Words

"Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep, and doesn't know where to find them. Leave them alone and they'll come home, bringing their tails behind them." A gentle waver caught in Fia's throat as she stretched out the last syllable of the word 'behind,' the tender Valais Blacknose ewe doing her best not to bleat the words to the soft nursery rhyme she hummed. Pausing her gentle humming, she set down the lead tipped pencil she was using to draw in her diary, wrapping her hoof-tipped fingers about a warm cup of tea. A few minutes resting on her front garden table was enough to cool the cup to a drinkable temperature. The little farm village was happily abuzz; it was Spring shearing day, which meant that every ram, lamb and ewe would shake off the chill of winter, and their restrictive winter coats. Looking down the cozy rows of one-bedroom cottages, each little plot overlooking the quaint cobblestone street, Fia could see her neighbors stretching their no-longer-wool-confined bodies. Strong rams got to the work of tending their homes and gardens, whilst little flighty lambs bounced and bounded together in the warming spring air. A contented sigh huffed out her black-furred snout as Fia brushed her ample fluff back from her eyes, the sweet little ewe savoring the full-body hug her coat gave her as she waited for her turn.

"It happened one day, as Bo Peep did stray, upon the butcher's skein." Fia settled her cup down upon the table, returning her focus to the drawings she was working on in her diary. The well-loved pages were filled with hand-drawn images, each one carefully planned and meticulously shaded with the sweet ewe's pencil. Except, while some might expect the innocuous little lamb to draw pictures of happy meadows and sunlit forest glades, when Fia put pencil to paper, death flowed from its tip. "There she espied their tails side by side, all hung on the tree to drain..." A soft smile curled across the ewe's face as she placed a few shaded marks upon an older drawing, fleshing out the image of an anthropomorphic sheep hoisted by its ankles. The creature seemed to be at peace, its slit throat dribbling only a few droplets of blood down into a bucket below, its eyes cold and unfixed as it stared out at the viewer. Satisfied, she gently flipped the pages, eyeing up her private images of morbid beauty.

A ram nestled into a shallow grave, his body strewn with local flowers. A half-butchered sheep parted out into beautifully detailed cuts, its processing watched over by a deer head trophy hung upon the kitchen wall. A full-page drawing of a ewe, one seemed reminiscent of Fia's own facial features, laid upon her back in a large roasting pan, a scruffy, furred paw nudging her into the embrace of an oven's roiling flames. She could not help but smile as she savored the slightly coy, slightly shy expression she gave the lifeless little roast. Reaching her hooved paw up to grab her teacup, Fia balanced the well-loved diary on both her ample thighs, her eyes coming to rest on a drawing of a furry canine tucked away in the corner of the full-page piece. A warm sigh escaped Fia's muzzle as she perused the chest-height bust of the fluffy border collie, his muzzle locked around a thick slice of savory roasted lamb on the end of a fork. It was a little comical, almost a caricature of a satisfied hound; but the quoted words of praise written underneath were heartfelt. She could almost hear them in his rich, baritone voice, the same ringing brogue that called out across the sleepy sheepy village.

"Dia duit, Fia!" called a rich, baritone voice, its ringing brogue causing the little ewe's heart to skip a beat, her cheeks flushing as she caught eyes with Niamh the border collie. Dressed in his tweed coat and corduroy trousers, the black-and-white furred village guardian was happily braced against the chill spring air, a pile of four or five fleece pelts slung over his right shoulder while his left paw carried a leather toolkit containing his shearing implements. It was an amenable life for the ovids who lived in the quaint little town, their beloved Niamh kept a close watch over the flock, acting as warden, doctor and town official in return for but a few shearings a year. He cut an imposing presence in the community, easily two heads taller than the fair Fia's tender form. And it was clear he took the little ewe's breath away.

"A- Ahhh, dia duit," Fia stumbled over her words, her embarrassed blush only growing hotter when she noticed her diary sat wide open in her lap. Clapping her thighs together, she fidgeted as she slammed the book shut before coyly stepping off her porch and trotting over to the picket fence that lined her yard. "You've been busy today, Niamh."

"Not bad for a morning's work. Just finished with the Berathnach family," he added, playfully jostling the pile of pelts on his shoulder.

"Our sturdy sheep dog, keeping everyone in line," Fia smiled, her overgrown wool pelt helping to accentuate her heavy, angled hips and shapely form. Flicking her little tail behind her with each gentle sway of her hip, the enraptured ewe almost didn't realize she was teasing the proud guard dog. Almost. The playful sashay, accompanied by a slightly bashful look on her face, did not go amiss. Niamh gently huffed as he tried to play off brushing his scruffy headfur from his eyes, the perfect excuse to stare at his sweet little lamb's heavy hips.

"Already getting warmed up for me, ey?" Niamh chuckled, leaning his forearms on the picket fence so he could speak in a softer, hushed tone. "There's a reason I saved you for last, mo chuisle." Straightening up, the sheep dog gave a low but authoritative bark, the sort that sent shivers down Fia's spine. "Come along little lamb. Don't make me have to tie and carry you." The order came with a little wink from the border collie, his tail lazily wagging behind him. Watching his ewe shiver in excitement, the pair took the short walk back to Naimh's home, the sturdy canine followed closely by his bounding little lamb, completely unaware of the diary still clenched in her hooved paws.

"Ahhhh," Fia gasped, shuddering as she felt the cool buzz of handheld clippers rolling up her belly, a shiver as the rumbling blades churned up a thick mat of fleece. In the blade's wake, a thin patch of closely cropped fuzz was all that remained, the razor just having missed her sensitive teat. "Ohhhh, Niamh..." she groaned, the little sheep settled onto her plump hips as her herder carefully undressed her with his shears.

"Mmmm... you like that, huh?" Niamh growled, licking his chops as his next swipe brought the blades cresting over her rounded breast, a deep moan escaping his little lamb's muzzle. "There's my good girl..." he growled, tucking both legs close to Fia's back as he let the vibrating blade stimulate her sensitive nipple a moment longer before moving on.

"Mmmmhmm..." Fia groaned, blushing as she could feel her sheep dog's arousal begin to swell in his pants, the border collie having a hard time containing himself. "A fine little lamb, and all yours, Niamh?" she mused, waiting for the next pass of the razor.

"I'd never let you go, my dear," Niamh huffed, switching hands with the razor while letting his free paw fondle the girl's supple, exposed breast, rolling his paws over the rounded teat while finishing the job cleaning up her belly and chest.

"Ohhhh, you'd never let those mean wolves get their claws on me," Fia huffed, one of her hooves slipping down between her legs to feel her tender folds, the soft lips now freed from her overgrown fleece. That is, until Niamh held back her arm with a firm paw, a low rumble filling his chest as he leaned in close.

"You wouldn't want to be caught by those nasty wolves, my little lamb," he growled, making it clear he wanted Fia to keep from touching herself as he carefully reached back to unzip his corduroy pants, freeing that thick canine shaft to grind against her fluffy back. "They'd do worse than eat you alive," he growled, slowly slavering his tongue out in his best impression of a snarling, ravenous wolf.

"Ohhhh, please, Mister Wolf!" Fia moaned, teasing her lover with a rather convincing plea. "P- Please don't-"

"Don't what, my delectable little lamb chop?" Niamh growled, hooking a paw under his helpless ewe's shoulder, and hauling the little sheep up to her feet with barely any effort. Before she realized what was happening, Fia found herself shoved face-forward across Niamh's back-room workbench, a clatter of tools and implements as the ewe was laid flat on her shaven belly. "Wolves aren't kind creatures," he growled, giving her fleece-padded rump a hard swat before firmly kicking her legs out to either side. "We take what we want," he growled, kneeling down as he got into character. "And we want tender, succulent mutton."

A gasp rocked the poor little lamb, her eyes rolling back as she felt two familiar, clawed pawtips pry apart her supple folds. "A- Ahhh, please... P- Please don't eat me, Mister Wolf," Fia shivered, panting as she felt an equally familiar, slick tongue lap slowly over her cherry-red clit, before dipping between her pussy lips to savor the rich dew inside.

"Don't what?" Niamh coaxed, his warm breath and scruffy muzzle fluff tickling Fia's thighs.

"Don't... Don't eat me..." Fia shuddered, her voice halting in her throat as she whined out exactly the opposite of what she wanted. Deep down, she knew she would scream for it, beg to be a savored meal. A hot flush filled in the black faced ewe's cheeks as she felt Niamh dip his tongue in again, the razor's tines denuding her thighs and calves as he did.

"But you're so tender. The finest mutton a wolf could steal," Niamh growled, standing once again. Leaning into her hips, the border collie began to grind his needy cock hard against his prized ewe's snatch, hips slapping with each forward motion as he let the razor chew through the thick mat of fleece covering her back. "And you're almost sheared too, a perfect little leg of lamb to sink my teeth into."

"A- Ahhhhnn..." Fia gasped aloud as she heard those words, only to snort as Niamh's thick canine cock spread her folds wide, pushing right inside her tight passage. The warm, squeezing muscles were perfectly lubricated, Fia's body softly clenching down upon Niamh's shaft as he thrust his full girth inside the little lamb's hole. "P- Please..." She gasped, biting her tongue as she tried not to let slip what she dreamt deep down.

Niamh did not make it easy, the canine quickly getting into the act the moment he bottomed out inside of her tight little snatch. "Ohhh, little lamb, you're going to get it," he growled, leaning forward as he worked the shears over her back and shoulders, plowing each thrust into her tender hips, hard enough to not only bump her forwards with each fore-stroke, but also to rattle the old wooden workbench that she was laid out upon.

"Nnngh... P- Please! A- Ahhhh you're so big, M- Mis..." Her voice faltering, Fia quivered as her lover forced himself upon her, hitting just the right spot to cause the little lamb to bleat in pleasure. "Niamh!" She gasped, losing the roleplay entirely, or so the border collie thought. Hearing his name called, the sheepdog gasped, shivering as he felt his lover clench, a warm rush of hot pussy juices flowing out her body upon his backstroke. As he shoved himself forwards, Niamh gripped at Fia's ample rump, squeezing his claw-tipped paws firmly into her meaty rear until he could feel he had broken skin. Clenching down upon her lover's shaft with all her might, Fia bleated out at the top of her lungs, "P- Please! Please eat me, Niamh! I- I'm- I'm your little lamb chop!"

The rush of orgasm clouded Niamh's mind, a dumb-happy grimace plastered on the scruffy border collie's face as he thrust through the heat of his need. As climax faded to afterglow, Niamh found himself laid across Fia's back, the pair still intertwined and breathing heavy from the exhaustion of their romp. But as Fia tried to regain herself, she noticed Niamh was not moving off her back. Turning to her side, the little ewe gasped in shock as she realized what had happened. In their haste, the jostling bumping of their sex had haphazardly knocked Fia's diary off the windowsill that she stashed it on, the book resting open on the full-page spread of the roasted ewe, with her lighthearted caricature of Niamh happily chowing down in the upper corner.

"Fia..." Niamh swallowed softly, eyes flitting back and forth over the page. "You... You weren't..." Turning to lock eyes with his little lover, Niamh searched for answers in the ewe's gaze. "You weren't just... playing were you?"

"No..." Fia shivered as she admitted the word aloud. She nervously watched as Niamh scanned the page, his jaw slackening ever so softly at the macabre drawings that came from his sweet little lambs mind. But before he could say a word, the tender ewe swallowed her pride, nudging the Border Collie to ease off her back and slip out from her folds. "Yes," she affirmed, pursing her muzzle as she stood and faced her loving protector. "I meant what I begged."

"You've wanted this a long time," Niamh pressed, his soft paw pads carefully flipping the pages of Fia's open diary. "Haven't you?" Turning his gaze to meet his lover's eyes, Niamh stared into the determined face of his little lamb, the freshly shorn ewe looking absolutely adorable as she crossed her arms before her rounded breasts.

"I'm not going to apologize for who I am," Fia said, resisting the urge to stomp a hoof upon the compacted dirt floor of her sweetheart's workshop. "You know how our people are. Some lambs are just destined for the table."

A creeping smile crawled across Niamh/s face, the older border collie finally easing his shoulders and relaxing his posture; even he knew when to back down against Fia's spunky determination. Reaching a paw out, Niamh caressed his lovers chin and jaw, staring eye to eye as he whispered softly, "I have my concerns. But they are mine alone." Leaning forwards, he planted a soft peck on his lover's muzzle, before nervously adding, "I've never had to slaughter a flock member before" Thumbing over the side of Fia's cheek, the scruffy pup sighed. "Only once when Cagney broke both legs on Mullacor. Out of mercy." Pausing momentarily, he chuckled, shaking his head as he added, "And not like he asked me for it."

"And, what if I am asking you for it, Niamh?" Fia's stubby little tail wiggled behind her in anticipation. A long silence followed the simple question, a soft rush of wind rustling the trees outside. Niamh turned his gaze towards the diary, eyes falling on the picture of the ram laid out in a lovely burial plot. After a moment of quiet, Niamh nodded softly. "On one condition," he said at last. Pausing, he chuckled as he corrected himself. "Well, actually two. First, get back on the table. I missed a few spots."

Fia giggled softly to herself as she stood before the border collie's simple bedroom mirror, twirling in a lazy circle as she examined the gorgeous gown that draped her form. Gentle frills and lacey decorations, the dress was tailor made for her size and shape, save for the fact that it was open down the back. It was a burial dress, the flowing robe designed to be easily put over a deceased girl's body when they were in no place to cooperate with the dressing process. The sweet ewe wore it well, with a colorful wreath of fresh, spring flowers woven into a delicate crown upon her head. She smiled with a warmth that seemed to radiate through the house, her infectious excitement prompting the border collie's warm voice to call from outdoors in through the open windows of his cozy two-bedroom home.

"Aye, Fia darling," Niamh called with a gentle bark and a hearty chuckle. "You've been dressing for two hours now! We don't want the sun to set before your big moment."

"You shouldn't rush me, Niamh," Fia giggled at the absurdity of the demand as she hurried towards the back door to Niamh's homestead. "It's not like I'll be around to experience this when it happens for real!"

"Leave it to you, to be late to your own funeral, Fia," Niamh chuckled, the stout border collie resting his body weight against a shovel as he stood under the old oak tree out back. As she passed the threshold to her lover's home, Fia could feel the chill breeze whip about her ankles, the tender dressing gown providing her with little protection from the springtime air. "C'mere, sweetheart," Niamh said, stepping forwards to kiss his lover on the muzzle before wrapping his paws about her in a warm, tight hug. "You look gorgeous, little lamb."

"You really think so?" Fia asked, a gentle blush creeping across her muzzle as she cocked her head to the side to see what Niamh was up to out back.

"Aye," he replied, only letting go to usher her to a sheep-sized hole dug at the foot of the old oak tree. It was not particularly deep, just enough for him to lay a hand-built, open pine casket flat inside. The box's lid rested atop the loose pile of dirt, the wooden planking strewn with a few items such as a spiral bound book, a polaroid camera, and a few other accoutrements from Niamh's work as town administrator. "Pretty as an Easter dinner lamb could be."

"Is," Fia swallowed as she stared down into the fresh wooden box, careful not to kick any dirt inside as she stepped closer. "Is this really for me?"

"Only if you agree, my dear," Niamh responded, a soft smile crossing his face. "I, uh... I looked through some of the old records of the town. My father, and his father before him, would throw a sort of living funeral for those who planned to leave the village. It's... not exactly the same, I suppose... but I wanted to give you the chance to think about it. And experience i- ooofh!" Niamh gasped as the wind was knocked from his lungs, Fia's little arms wrapping tight around his belly with so much force.

"Oh, Niamh!" she bleated, her stubby little tail wiggling behind her. Only after a moment of tight hugging did she realize that her muzzle was pressed uncomfortably into her loving protector's diaphragm. "You... You really do care," she stammered, turning her attention back to her own grave while giving Niamh a moment to recover. "It's perfectly sized for me."

"Well," he huffed, shaking his black-and-white furred head. "It's actually a bit big," Niamh commented, offering a paw to his lover to help her climb inside. "After all, you're going to be my roast lamb, so there will only be bones left to bury. But I wanted you to feel what it's like, and I suppose there will be plenty of room to lay your bones to rest."

Fia swallowed softly, her heart pounding in her chest as she lowered herself down, first to her knees, before sitting back on her rump, careful not to tangle up in her flowing burial gown. Niamh had an eye for detail; the soft pine wood was freshly hewn and carefully sanded, creating a fragrant, velvety-soft surface for Fia to lay upon. Niamh allowed his sweet ewe a moment to get comfortable, stepping over to the side of the old oak tree to lift an armful of fresh, spring wildflowers he had picked early in the morning. As Fia laid back in her very own casket, she peered up from the bottom of the cool grave as her lover began to carefully scatter the sweet-scented flowers about her body, humming a soft tune to himself as he did. A pretty snowfall of yellow, purple, and white petals settled in bunched up drifts about Fia's billowing burial gown. As a particularly lovely stalk of lavender came to rest just next to her head, causing Fia to turn her head to the side, Niamh chuckled as he knelt next to the casket, reaching in to give her button nose a little tap with his paw.

"Now, now," he said, smirking as he adjusted the little laurel of flowers resting upon her fleecy headfur. "Don't you go nibbling those flowers," Niamh scolded playfully, causing Fia to blush. "After all, you're supposed to be dead, my dear." Those words struck Fia like a ton of bricks, her heart skipping a beat as she realized the gravity of what he said. She would be dead. There would be no movement, no reaction at all when he laid her to rest in the same pine box. Fia swallowed softly as she felt a warmth growing in her loins, her arousal beginning to grow as she realized this was as close as she would get to being truly laid to rest. Laid to rest by her deepest love. Naimh had repositioned himself at the little ewe's feet, carefully settling the last flowers about her heels before producing a simple hand-written tag from his pocket. She could not see the writing, but she did not need to; she knew exactly what it was.

"Ahhh..." Fia sighed softly as supple paws slipped a twine loop around one of her hooves, tucking the little rope down between the cleft before pulling the ends tight to secure it.

"As the town's administrator," Niamh announced, putting on his official voice, "I certify that this body belongs to that of my dear Fia, found on this chilly April day. Cause of death," Niamh rumbled softly as he caressed Fia's hoof, still reading off the tag. "Slaughtered, as mutton should be, by my hand."

Fia shuddered, closing her eyes softly as she felt the toe tag fall against her hoof. Her breathing quickened; it was hard for her to simply play dead when her body seemed to crave, to lust for the treatment she received. Niamh clearly noticed, the border collie stepping about to the other side and picking up the camera. After fiddling with the controls, he raised the boxy old device before his face and snapped his first picture. The flash caught Fia off guard, the little lamb blinking as she shook the light from her eyes, only for her to nervously remember that she would not react like that were she truly laid to rest. As Niamh circled about the pine casket, Fia allowed herself to relax, letting her gaze slip from the camera's bulb and her eyes unfocus. With each passing moment, she felt herself settle, sinking into the headspace of her final moments, until she hardly felt her chest rise and fall, each shallow breath a mere shadow of her final moments. All that remained was her steady, slow heartbeat, and a deep burn within her loins that Fia dare not touch, for fear of ruining the perfect illusion.

With a pawful of polaroid photos, and one last final nod at his lamb's stillness, Niamh seemed satisfied at his memorialization of the moment. Tucking the pictures away into the scrapbook for later, with the intent of creating a little memorial to Fia's life, or at the very least to provide her with a chance to remember the experience, Niamh hefted up the heavy pine lid to his lover's casket. Settling the plank boards overtop the lower half of her death bed, the border collie paused to make sure he was not about to bump Fia in the snout. A soft smile cracked across his muzzle as he realized his sweetheart had not moved an inch, her body as still as the grave. Sliding the heavy, wooden lid over-top, Niamh cast his lover into a world of darkness, the still coolness of the earth the only thing she could hear before thunderous pounding echoed through the casket. The finality was palpable as her canine lover pretended to drive home each nail to ensure that she was safely locked away, should any scavengers come scratching. A calm fell over Fia's tender form as she adjusted to the darkness, her gaze unmoving as realization set in. This is it, she thought, eyes blinking only once as she heard her lover's distant and muffled voice as he cleared his throat.

"I, uh... I have never been good at saying a few words," Niamh began. The little lamb had to suppress a giggle as she imagined what he must look like; wringing his paws, his scruffy face sullen and somber, giving her eulogy yet surrounded by nobody. She could not help but imagine this must be what it feels like to look down upon her loved ones from the aether as they tried to say their last words. "But how could I not speak for the ewe who stole my heart? My dear Fia. From our youngest days together, exploring our little farm town, we both knew the bond between us was more than just friendship. My little lamb, always at my heels as I learned from my father to protect and nurture the village. We grew together," Niamh paused, chuckling as he added, "Well, I grew a bit more than you." Fia could practically see her lover staring down at the closed casket, wondering if the little quip would make her giggle.

"We knew there was something special between us," he continued at length, a heavier sigh to his voice as he spoke. "And I welcomed you into my home, as my love. Mo chuisle. The very vein of my heart." It was now that Fia caught the falter in his voice, not just an artifact of the pine box distorting his words. The tender ewe felt a soft tear well within her eye as he sniffed back the hesitation. "The day she asked me to take her life, I knew that I was destined to do the job. Because I could never let anyone disgrace the most beautiful lamb in the world. And I could not live, should she become anything less than the bountiful meal she always dreamed of." A gentle rumble fell over the pine casket, a ceremonial shovelful of dirt laid atop. "Slan foill, Fia," Niamh said, before the world went still and silent for Fia once more. Though, not for long.

Bright light flooded the little ewe's eyes, shaking her out of her stillness as darkness flooded away. Locking eyes with Niamh once more, the little ewe huffed as she was offered a paw up, the border collie's bright smile betrayed by the redness in his eyes from a little crying he had obviously wiped away. But as she sat up in the pine casket, she noticed that Niamh had laid out a few things upon the lid that still covered her thighs and lower legs. Resting atop the lid to her casket, next to the little scrapbook memorial Niamh put together, sat a simple piece of official paperwork; Fia's deaths certificate, complete with date and time, and lacking only a signature. Her signature.

With a shaking paw, she reached out to rub the black ink pad provided to her. Staring softly into Niamh's eyes, she made her decision with a single, wordless tap.

"Good morning, my dear," a soft voice crooned, coupled with a gentle kiss on Fia's soft cheek. The moment she became aware of the morning sun, the little lamb shuddered bodily, her lithe ovine arms wrapping tight about Niamh's furry, fluffy body. The border collie sighed, nestling into his lover's grip, allowing his fluffy paws to rub down her goose bumped back. Fia's short-cropped fleece was shaved down to skin the night before, leaving the little lamb without much protection from the morning chill. "My, my," Niamh cooed, nestling his scruffy face against Fia's cheek. "You're practically shivering."

"I've got you to keep me warm, dear," Fia whispered, swallowing softly as she nuzzled into the crook of her lover's neck.

"I promise you will be warm soon enough," Niamh sighed, his eyes fixing on the entryway to the bedroom, peering into the kitchen where he could see the ewe-sized roasting pan waiting patiently on the counter. "Come along, my little leg of lamb," he whispered at last, carefully stepping out of bed into a set of comfortable slippers.

"B- But it's cold, Niamh. F- Five more minutes?" Fia asked nervously, gripping the bedsheets up about her bare skin.

"You can have five more," Niamh added with a chuckle. "I've got to rekindle the hearth, so I'll put the kettle on for tea." Stretching his arms above his head, the nearly naked border collie chuckled as he shook his scruffy tail behind him, swaying his still sticky hips, moist with the sweat and fluids from last night's electric, and very final, sexual romp. Fia allowed a warm smile to cross her face, admiring the village protector's handsome body. Shapely muscle filled out under his long, flowing fur. She remembered that summer when they were growing up together; she asked if she could see what he looked like with close-cropped fur. Niamh's father was incensed that he let the little lamb take shears to his coat. But Fia got to enjoy a sexy view of her lover's body all summer long, every rippling muscle, every powerful flex he made. She took the opportunity to imagine the young border collie picking her up and carrying her off to end her life. She never could have imagined that years later, he would do just that. "Aye, banked the coals just right," he commented from the kitchen. "Fire's on, the kettle's just about warm. I'm sorry that I can't offer you any breakfast, sweetheart."

"That's been the hardest part," Fia responded, her voice closer than Niamh expected. Turning about, the canine noticed his sleeping beauty had left the bedroom, her shapely form standing naked in the doorway. A smile crossed the collie's face as he poured two piping hot cups of tea. Offering one to Fia, he set his own aside. The scruffy hound never did take his hot.

"It'll make my job easier, and the discomfort is only temporary," Niamh huffed, turning his back on his little lover to examine the setup he planned. Usually when he butchered a wild deer or other unfortunate beast that tread too close to the village, Niamh did so out back on a branch of the old oak tree. But Fia deserved better. After all, the whole village knew. Friends and family had said their goodbyes the past few weeks. She did not deserve to be gawked at by passers-by. Instead, Niamh was careful to set up a simple system in his kitchen. A rope slung over a ceiling rafter, a simple iron spreader bar with two hefty meat hooks at either end, and a galvanized steel tub. That was all he needed to send her on her way. There were, of course, other steps. A rubber hose attached to the faucet, and the chopped vegetables destined for the pan. But Fia need only think about the first few steps. Her lover would take care of the rest.

"This is all you need, hun?" she asked at length, sipping her tea as she examined the kitchen, her mind already running wild with thoughts and emotions as the minutes ticked down.

"Aye, it should be everything," Niamh nodded, rubbing a paw along the side of his neck as he gave another stretch. "I did want to ask, Fia, would you..." The words escaped him momentarily, only returning as he glanced towards the mallet and chisel he left upon the countertop. "Would you like me to stun you? Or some painkillers to ease you off into oblivion?"

Fia swallowed, as if she had not even thought of that possibility. After a moment, the lamb shook her head, floppy ears wiggling back and forth as she replied, "N- No, dear. I don't think so. I... I want to feel it." Correcting herself, Fia changed her response to, "I want to feel you, 'till the end."

Niamh could not help but give his little lover a tight hug, planting a kiss upon her muzzle before nestling his snout up along the crook of her neck. "I'll stay with you to the end," he whispered, Fia's strong pulse thumping against his jaw. The border collie coaxed his sweetheart to place her arms behind her back, sighing as he continued to hug his little lamb while fastening a length of rope about her wrists. "Once we start, I'm not going to stop until you're still and quiet."

"I understand," Fia nodded, savoring the last moments of his touch. "Will you treat me like an animal?" she asked as Niamh helped his lover lower herself to the ground, plump thighs and soft rump settled just underneath the waiting meat hooks.

"Would you like that?" Niamh asked, lowering the spreader down until the meat hooks rested between her legs on the floor.

"I- It would feel right," Fia asked, swallowing as she watched Niamh kneel at her side. Nodding softly, the border collie closed his eyes as he gripped one of the vicious hooks. A gentle hum rumbled in Niamh's throat as he allowed himself to slip into his working mindset. He always sang himself the same little tune to focus his mind while working. It would do the job perfectly, Fia hardly realized her lover's paws were moving until it was too late. While not the swiftest of movements, Niamh seized his little lamb's leg just above the hoof, holding her tight as he brought the meat hook down hard between Fia's shank bones. For a brief moment, the sweet ewe stared in wide-eyed confusion as the metal hook pierced her flesh, exiting the opposite side of her ankle with a thin dribble of blood. "A- Ahhhh...!" she gasped, her eyes tearing up at the sharp shock that struck her body, only to feel the firm paw of her border collie lover pressing her back against the kitchen floor.

"Easy girl, easy," Niamh hushed, his paw quickly reaching out to grab Fia's free leg. The girl shyly swallowed back her emotions as the meat hook slammed down. Blinking, the sacrificial ewe felt her cheeks turn ashen, her lover providing only a parting pat to the lamb's meaty leg before leaving her side. Fia gritted her teeth as she felt her legs tug upwards, metal hooks jostling against her ankle bones as her lover hefted the ewe's full body weight off the ground. Niamh was never the strongest of his family, but he knew how to meter his movements, always in time with that gentle humming. It took a little effort to drag Fia's frame off the floor, especially when Niamh had to stop to make sure she didn't bash her head on the way up. But soon, the helpless, bound ewe hung limp from both ankles, a thin trickle of blood drooling down each supple shank as she swayed gently over the kitchen floor. All she could do was close her eyes and prepare.

A rattle filled Fia's ears, her eyes opening in time to see Niamh kick the old, galvanized steel tub he used to wash clothes underneath her, the metal rattling softly as it came to rest under her hanging body. "I'm so proud of you," Niamh hushed, kneeling next to his lover, and allowing his free paw to wander up and down the little lamb's supple, clean-shaven flesh. He could not help but gently pinch at a nipple, fondling the sweet ewe's eros zones, if only to buy a little time to figure how best to do the deed. Niamh knew he could slice and be done, but the love of his life was worth more than a simple cut. At long last, the border collie pressed his muzzle against Fia's ear, his scruffy fuzz tickling the little lamb as he whispered, "I'll love you forever, chuisle mo chroí."

The pulse of my heart. The term of endearment, long since burned into the Irish language, felt perfectly appropriate as Niamh plunged his trusty work knife straight into Fia's throat. The metal blade pulsed as hot, arterial blood pumped against the flat of the knife, causing the handle to jump in Niamh's paw before he could get the right leverage. As Fia's jaw gaped wide, surprise giving way to confusion, she could feel her hesitant lover grip tight upon the handle, the keen and sharpened blade carving through Fia's windpipe and esophagus. As the knife tip exited the other side of Fia's throat, hot blood began to spray from the little lamb's neck, beating in time with the ewe's heartbeat, made worse by the flurry of flutter kicks that jingled the spreader bar she hung from. One last, firm jerk ensured that Fia's throat, from spine to adam's apple, was severed in one messy slice. Fia could not hear her lover grunt, nor toss aside the knife like it was poison; her ears were awash in pulsing, pounding blood and strangely cold disorientation.

A heavy crack rung out through the kitchen as Fia felt her head suddenly wrenched out of place, her neck bent backwards at the spine before being kinked to the side. It was the edge of what her strained tendons could handle. The tendons that were still attached at least. Before Fia could react, Niamh's broad, canine tongue forced its way into the little lamb's muzzle, her gaping, gasping mouth struggling to reciprocate the kiss as seething warm blood flowed effortlessly from her opened neck. The spattered basin was quickly coated with a film of frothy blood, Fia's essence pumping out with each pounding throb of her heart. All the while, she jiggled and spasmed, exhausted body fighting every step of the way until Niamh placed his paw upon the little lamb's chest.

Slowly, sensually, he began to fondle his lover with his off-hand, tongue still locked with Fia's muzzle as he rubbed down her front, crimson streaks of blood smearing across the little lamb's front as he tried to calm her down. "Shhh..." he hushed, barely pulling back from her gaped muzzle to whisper, "It's okay. I'm here." Niamh could not see her eyes given his odd positioning, but he could feel his tender lamb roast quiet down, her heartbeat faltering in her chest, and the fight finally leaving her chunky, meaty body. "I love you," he whispered softly, unsure if Fia could hear him anymore. The border collie's kindness was met with a warm ammonia scent striking his nose, the girl's bladder finally relaxing enough to release as her torrential blood flow eased off to a constant drool. Swallowing, and trying not to worry too much about being covered in the piss that flowed down his lover's front, Niamh reached two fingers up to her bound wrists, tentatively feeling for any sign of life. A warm smile crossed the scruffy canine's face as he glanced over at the clock. "Slan foill, Fia."

There was far too much to do. Far too much that Niamh never told Fia. He knew that the little lamb would go to waste if he did not have help, and that certainly would not do for his beloved roast. Invitations were sent, a time was settled upon, and Niamh only had so long before his brothers and sisters, his extended family, arrived for the big day. Sprayed down with cool water from the tap, Niamh allowed his meal to rest, the last drips and drops of blood falling into the coagulating basin an hour or so after her final breath. Just as he had at her grave out back, Niamh arranged Fia in the oversized roasting pan; she was settled in a perfect pose, her stubby snout frozen in a relaxed, almost shy, expression. Placing her paws over her groin, a token of modesty for the ewe he made love to, Niamh surrounded his lover with the finest heirloom vegetables. Yellow and red potatoes, bright orange carrots, and even a few quartered onions. It was almost like the gorgeous wildflowers he'd strewn about her in the casket.

Almost. It was very different than when he committed Fia to the earth in her living funeral. Something just felt odd as he watched the firelight dance off her oiled forehead, the flames licking and baying higher than the roasting pan like hungry wolves, begging to take the defenseless lamb all their own. As he pushed his lover forwards, into the roiling hearth, Niamh pursed his muzzle and stiffened his resolve. With his lover wreathed in flame, the fire lapping up and over the edge of the roaster, the border collie calmly knelt before the hearth, planting his chin upon his paws as he mused aloud to nobody, "I promised to protect you. I'll be right here, Fia."

Hours. Grueling hours. Long, torturous hours passed for the stalwart flock warden, as he watched his Fia's transformation from lover to lamb roast. It became easier though, the early arrival of Niamh's sister, and later his oldest brother, gave him a much-needed respite from playing sentinel at the oven's mouth. Surrounded by family, Niamh found the strength to finish the presentation, removing Fia from the oven at perfect doneness. Plating her body with an eye towards care, everyone in attendance agreed she looked as beautiful as the pictures he shared.

Staring down at a plate filled with roast lamb, tender cuts from Fia's cute thighs, juicy chest, and tender rump, Niamh could only smile at the sight of his love nestled in a shy and sheepish pose upon the center of the table. With family all about, and plenty of loving compliments, the canines devoured the selfless little lamb, reverent in their care as they parted out strips of meat and dished out vegetables that soaked in her juices. Yet as another toast was raised to Fia's name, Niamh could not help but let his eyes wander from the dinner table. Raising a glass, his distracted mind peered out the window of his simple village home, catching a glint of candlelight flashing off the shovel he left out back by Fia's grave. Blinking, Niamh could not help but realize a tiny oversight in his preparations; the normally fastidious border collie had left Fia's diary resting on the windowsill. As a soft smile rolled across his face, the canine whispered, Tomorrow, under his breath, allowing his older brother to refill his glass of wine. Tomorrow you rest. Tonight, you deserve to be the center of attention, mo chuisle.

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