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kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months

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Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Theseus is dead. You’re escorting the Minotaur, more beast than a man, out of the Labyrinth. The problem is, he seems to be more interested in what’s between your legs than in his mission of killing the notorious king of Crete… (12 k. Minotaur is not an actual hybrid in this fic. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Part 1 here.) Tags/warnings: Shameless smut mdni, dubious consent, extremely possessive behaviour, abduction, first time (König & reader are both virgins), hugs & cuddles, washing blood off your monster boyfriend, awkward flirting, semi-rough sex, shifting power dynamics, sexist insults & slurs (the citizens of Crete do not approve of your choices), implied cannibalism, fluffy ending. Mythical AU.

The candle goes out before you reach the surface.

To someone else, it would be the end of the world: to you, it’s only a hindrance, a nuisance, mostly.

You’re not easily distressed. If you were, you wouldn’t be in the service of the greatest goddess of the Underworld. And you’re not mourning losing the sight of your warmly illuminated beast... You’re only worried about what he will do once the darkness descends. Whether he will forget about his vow, whether the baser instincts take over him once the darkness falls.

And darkness is not capable of making you lost: you can always follow the string in your hand. But without light, it’s difficult to predict the Bull’s moves: whether he decides to maim or fuck you against the wall, you can never tell. He hasn’t lived in the real world among people; he doesn’t know what’s right or wrong and what’s expected of him. Even the best of men can succumb to the demands of the flesh, so what power would a Bull Man have against his animal wants? No one ever taught him to respect the gods, let alone the maidens who serve them...

Then again, if a simple candle was the only thing that kept you alive, then what’s the point of lamenting the loss of it? Your life was already forfeit when you chose to descend here.

So you let it go: as always, the greatest lesson in life is to simply let go. Of control, of judgment, of fear, of hope.

He doesn’t say a thing when the light flickers, then fades. The candle goes out in silence, and you let it drop before the remaining wax burns your palm.

And it’s not the absence of light, but strength, that forces you on your knees before even an hour has passed. There’s still a long way to go, and the yarn is like a thin string of hope in your hand, but you’re too exhausted, too worn out, too hungry and too tired to go on.

The Bull Man doesn’t object to your suggestion to lay down and sleep for a while. He has walked behind you in silence the whole day. Or night… You can’t tell the difference; you lost count somewhere along the way down here. The air is stale and humid, and there’s no torch, not a single candle anywhere and even if there were, you wouldn’t do anything with them without a flint.

The horror is kept at bay only through your numerous exercises with the goddess who introduced you to darkness many, many moons ago. You were initiated during the dark Moon, the new Moon, the blood Moon, introduced to the mysteries of the maiden, mother and crone, to the secrets of both the living and the dead. You’re not afraid, but your body still warns you of danger: you just don’t know if it’s a memory from childhood or a reaction to the Bull, panting behind you – out of lust or exertion, you don’t even know. Someone who wasn’t a maiden probably could tell… At times, you curse the fact that there hasn’t been a single phallus inside you because men too possess knowledge. Taking a man into your bed would have initiated you to a different set of mysteries, but now, you are poking blind.

The Bull Man is an animal, you remind yourself. The longer you stay in his company, the more he starts to resemble a human, even if he is a man of few words. How he even remembers them is another mystery: you thought he was sent down here as a young boy. He speaks oddly but eloquently, a remnant of his noble descent, perhaps. Or perhaps he has listened to the people speaking in the Labyrinth, eavesdropped his victims an hour or two before killing them. Whatever the reason, you have to constantly tie your tongue because there’s simply no point in talking to a beast. The less you know about him and his past, the better.

You ready yourself for sleep, but the cursed cold of the tunnels keeps your body awake. Your flesh is human even if your mind is forged to withstand hunger, thirst and pain. Endurance against cold was never your strong suit, and you miss the heat of the sun, the warmth of it on your skin, even the ample light it gives. You, a lover of the moon, missing the heat of Apollo… It’s a joke, surely.

On the stone floor, it’s even colder, the rough, damp ground making your very bones ache. How on Hecate’s name has the beast survived this place?

“Bull Man,” you speak into the darkness, thick like an impenetrable wall and thin like a virgin’s veil.

“Maiden,” he echoes with a dark, low growl, slightly amused by the name you’ve selected for him.

“Are you cold?” You whisper.

Perhaps he doesn’t quite understand the question or why you asked it. It doesn’t matter: you have to swallow your pride and ask for his help if you’re going to survive this dark prison.

“I don’t get cold,” he finally responds.

“Good. I need your heat.”

The silence drags on, and you fear he has misunderstood you again, but then he speaks again, with the same slightly amused tone as before.

“Come take it.”

You’re not sure if you’ve completely lost your mind, crawling to him through the uneven floor of the Labyrinth. Who knows what he will do to you once he gets those arms of iron around you? You’re placing your maidenhood, your whole body at his mercy. And you’re not even sure if it’s a he, if this thing is human at all.

Human or animal, your hand meets the bull’s head on the way to him. He has taken it off, then... It’s not a part of him, just like you suspected. Maybe he is just a giant, daunting man, born from whatever forbidden desire Pasiphae had. Who knows if she only went to a foreign lover’s arms when her husband was at war? Who knows if King Minos has trouble getting his phallus up… These things happen: women get pregnant from their lovers, they do desperate things to pacify their husbands. And you don’t need a bull to get yourself an heir...

You feel his heat before you feel his skin: the Minotaur is verily blazing. He has gotten used to the cold, it seems, his body like a small bonfire in the clammy tunnel.

“Cold little female,” he comments when you snuggle towards him shyly, thoroughly aware of the uninviting chill of your body.

You settle next to him, every muscle in your body tight like a bowstring, your breaths shallow when he gives you a welcoming rumble. Goosebumps prickle across your skin and your throat goes dry, the thick swallow in the tunnel echoing around you like a thief.

Arms like iron go around you, and his body is taut, just like yours, but for a whole different reason entirely. He’s not afraid or nervous; he’s just… big. Pure muscle, his whole body thick, the stock and heat of him remind you of the sun. A miniature sun down here in these dark tunnels, but while you start to slowly soften in his arms, a different threat is already emerging. It doesn’t take long before his cock stiffens against you, and with the scarce clothing you both have, you can feel its every excited twitch.

Artemis… Protect me from this beast. Turn him into a dog if he tries to penetrate me. Let him rip my throat instead…

You’ve never prayed to the Virgin Goddess; you don’t know if she can even hear you from down here. But Hecate would only laugh if this Bull decided to breed you. No mercy would arrive from that direction: she would either send a disease of blisters upon the Minotaur for touching her chosen or then she would cackle like an old woman, thousand times raped.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hoping your kindness will distract him from what’s happening downstairs.

“My pleasure,” he grumbles, mimicking the words he probably heard as a child in his father’s great hall.

It sends a chill down your spine and butterflies into your heart to hear him speak like a polite man of court. And again, you think of asking him about his childhood... His mother, his father, the things he remembers from the surface. How he survived here without water, if there are underground springs here somewhere. Whether he eats humans like they say... If he ever embraced the dead women he killed.

“Can you do it again,” he rumbles against you, cutting you away from your grotesque thoughts.

“...Do what again?”

“Touch me… With your hand.”

His words are blunt now, his speech clumsy. But the way he says it is not an order. It’s an odd beg, more like. Laced with hope and wishes far away from greed. This Bull is never greedy, per se… He’s just lacking. Starved, for so many things that you fear there’s not enough time nor kindness to give him what he needs.

Your pulse flutters when you slowly lift your hand and caress the strong cords of muscle that make his neck. The rumbling returns; it turns into a low purr as the beast relaxes under your touch. Something softens inside you when he sighs from relief. His unbridled happiness tugs at your heart, trying to yank open something forbidden. It’s the softest violation you’ve ever felt: to be held by a giant killer having a roaring erection, while the said killer clearly enjoys your caress like it’s the touch of Aphrodite herself…

You even stroke his face. His jaw, unclenching under your touch; his cheek, covered with what you suppose is simply a wild, overgrown beard.

“Your hand,” he groans softly, “makes me sleepy and warm…”

The cold, uncaring goddess recedes. The burdens of past, present and future dissolve. Softness takes place in your heart; the iron locks give in like brittle brass. A smile plays on your lips as you continue to pet him softly, lulling you both to sleep with your voice.

“Then sleep, Bull of Crete...”

…

You wake up to his cock pressing against you.

Not against your stomach like when you went to sleep – that you could do with – but against your cunt, barely veiled by the thin linen of your dress.

The panic is soon wrestled down with reason: you tell yourself it’s just a cock. It’s just him. You’re simply in the Minotaur’s arms, and he’s sound asleep still; there’s no reason to buck and jerk and scream.

The darkness feels like a safe womb now, but with nothing to lock your gaze to, you have to take a moment to ground yourself into reality. And the first thing you ground into is a thick cockhead, pressing fast into your nether lips. He’s practically at the gates, and you’re lucky he’s still asleep.

It’s perhaps your fault this happened in the first place: you notice you’ve dragged your thigh over his hip; as if wanting him to fuck you in your sleep… You embrace him like Helen of Troy, and he holds you through his sleep like a man in love, perfectly content with napping on the cold ground with you.

“Mm…” The beast stirs, probably noticing how the female in his arms is tense as a rod. “You smell like you want to fuck…”

“No I don’t,” you hurry to whisper.

Gods curse this man’s ability to smell everything from miles away. Blood and humans and, apparently, a woman at her most receptive.

What if he can actually smell the wetness between your legs?

“We need to go,” you slowly remove your leg from on top of his waist, hoping it would go unnoticed that you were clutching him like a lover. You have no such luck: he grabs your thigh and draws it back, sets it safe and snug around his waist while adjusting his grip on you, now hugging you entirely like a lover would.

“I want to mate with you,” he says softly. “You want to mate too. Why go?”

He sounds so adorable when he’s still in the process of waking up to a new day. Drowsy and sweet, voice husky from sleep, body warm as can be, the hard-on between his legs happy and stiff.

“I thought you wanted to kill the king,” you try to point out.

“This is more important,” he gruffs. “Urgent.”

The cock pushes further up and against you, now spreading your folds under the dress, trying to penetrate into your heat. Your eyes go wide as thick need pools down to meet his greed. His body, his cock makes your head go dull for a moment; you feel like you’re not even capable of thinking actual thoughts.

“No, it’s not. We need to get up.”

You stiffen in his arms, push yourself away, and to your surprise, he actually lets you go. Reluctantly and with a hollow grunt, but he lets you go.

You rise with a wobble, and adjust your dress, your head spinning from his advances. You swear he becomes more man-like every day, every passing hour, even. Or is it just you who’s changing…?

The Bull Man is up before you get to ponder on that thought for too long. Your heart and head struggle to find their footing for a moment, your legs are so weak you feel like fainting. He catches you before you fall, the warm, thick arms closing around you with stout affection.

“You need more heat?” He asks softly.

You look up out of habit, even if you can't see his eyes, covered by the carcass again because his voice is muffled.

“No… I’m hungry.”

He’s silent for a moment, probably thinking what he could do to help the situation. You fear he will suggest you go back to visit his “pantry” and eat whatever horrible, half-rotten man-flesh he might have in store there, but he only holds you close to prevent you from sliding back to the ground.

“Hmm. No mice up here,” he ponders.

“You eat mice…?”

“Sometimes.”

You leave it at that: you don’t want to know what he’s had to do to sustain himself down here. You don’t even have a fire to cook the vermin, even if you would be ready to eat even those after another day or two without food.

“Not a long way up,” he says. “We will reach the sun soon. Then I’ll find you something to eat.”

“How do you know that…?”

“The air smells different.”

You sigh and search for the string, your lifeline to the outside world. You can’t wait to get out of here, and with both hurry and an odd dread, you hike for what seems like another whole day. Tension, hunger and thirst distort your thoughts, and you’re sure by now that the time flows differently here in the Underworld. With no small amount of pride, you feel accomplished to have survived this place so far. Even gods have had to do some tricks to escape the nether worlds: it is no small feat to charm the Minotaur and then walk out of here unharmed.

To your knowledge, you’re the only one who has ever escaped the Labyrinth. You haven’t even had time to think about what you will unleash with you… The demon that walks on your heels will take his revenge, not only on the king but on the city who threw him here.

Well. It’s their problem now. Minos and Pasiphae simply have to deal with their successor. The world will simply have to deal with the Underworld’s wrath.

And oh, how Hecate would laugh if she saw this monster prince of Crete escape his prison because of you – the feared Minotaur set free, only because he’s mesmerized by a woman. You suspect he would have his cock jumping for any girl, though. It's not because you're an exceptional sorceress that he follows you: it's your cunt he's after. And it shouldn’t make you feel jealous that he probably gets distracted the moment he sees a better offer walk by.

But it does. In your darkest wishes, you would keep the Bull Man all to yourself. Get him a leash, perhaps... Feed him with your own hands and let him grope you in the dark, watch him go wild from lust when you finally give him access to your cunt.

Many would hardly think you’re a virgin if they took a peek inside your head. But the things you’ve seen and done, the white bulls you’ve slaughtered for the dark Goddess, adorning them with cypress wreaths before slashing their throats open, would turn any woman bleak and twisted like this. For once, you would like to save the bull from slaughter.

When you see the first evidence of light, your body lets out a sigh it has been holding ever since you arrived here. Seeing the sun gives you more strength than any food or meal, and you pick up your pace while the Minotaur behind you begins to hesitate.

“It’s too bright,” he says before you’ve even walked out of the tunnel, now turning into a vast cave, the entrance to the Labyrinth.

You turn around to look and stop in your tracks when you see the fear in his eyes is acute. It’s mixed with wonder, the curiosity wrestling away doubt slowly but surely. He only needs a little nudge, a gentle pull, an enticing little smile and eyes that he can trust.

“You’ll get used to it soon,” you extend your hand.

He takes a step, then another, then another, until he reaches your outstretched fingers, and hand in hand you walk out of the Labyrinth and into the bright morning sun, burning over the kingdom of Crete.

He’s only a breath away from panicking, but covers it well. You wonder if it’s truly the light that’s too bright or if the feeling of being so exposed is what makes him so afraid. Clearly, the vast space opening up before him is intimidating.

There are grassy plains as far as the eye can see, little hills that dot the horizon, and skies so expansive and bright it must hurt his eyes. Goats are grazing under the sun, trees are bending in the wind, the rustling of leaves and the sound of birds calling him to look in all directions as he tries to make some sense of his surroundings.

“It’s alright,” you give his palm a soft squeeze, and the way he looks there under the sun, so big and powerful and able, and still so utterly lost, is giving you heartache you haven’t known since you were a child.

“There’s… so many colours,” he says, looking at the blue summer sky, the deep olive greens, the dirty whiteness of the goats, the flowers upon the grass. A butterfly, flying past, yellow like the citrus that people harvest from a few miles from here. A big blackbird with an orange beak, swooping down to catch a cricket, the slate grey pigeons flying so close to the sun that he has to shield his eyes even if they’re already safe and sheltered under the bull head.

Seeing his wonder and awe makes you look at the scenery so differently that it burns, it actually hurts: there’s so much beauty in the world, and you have always taken it for granted. Cursed the rain and the storms, cursed the droughts, cursed the gods for sending down another famine, when in truth, the world was filled with abundance, of colours, of life and joy… And all you’ve done is worship darkness. Now the darkness is out: it’s standing next to you, watching the view of your mundane everyday life like it’s nothing short of a miracle.

And when you turn back to look at him again, his eyes are upon you.

“What?” You ask, freshly caught in your moment of weakness.

“You are pretty,” he says, eyes wrinkling with delight under the mask.

Gods damn him…

He doesn’t know that human men don’t act like this, talk like this, or if they do, there’s usually something vile involved behind it all. He doesn’t know how to play games, he was never introduced to the lies and deceit of the world.

The Bull of Crete only looks at you with soft fondness in his stare – he doesn’t understand that he should cover that softness as well if he intends to win. Any woman could put a leash on him before another moon has passed, but he doesn’t seem to care. And it’s not even heat or hunger that makes you weak this time... It’s those eyes, looking at you with more and more warmth.

“Nonsense,” you huff without a voice, and turn towards the old road with an adoring bull on your heels.

The cold sigh of the underworld is quickly left behind you as you walk up the old carriage road, nearly grown in with weeds. The Labyrinth is located miles away from civilization, but the people living in these hills are used to the cold cave by now. They trust that the Minotaur will never escape and only turn away their heads and close the doors of their huts when the screaming, crying human sacrifices are delivered to the mouth of the cave. Little do they know that the monster is now looking at their little hills and goats with delight, not bloodlust.

For the Minotaur is fascinated with your world: he has to touch every leaf, every tree, every blade of grass, it seems. The goats are afraid of him, but one small nanny is bold enough to come and sniff his hand. Perhaps it remembers that beings walking on two feet give her apples sometimes, and the giant studies this small white animal with gentle curiosity, allows the goat to smell his hand, only chuckles when the goat gives out a little scoff when she notices there are no treats to be found there.

The vision is more adorable than when you’ve seen children play with kittens, and no matter what you do, you can’t turn your heart into ice anymore. You were taught that the Minotaur is a monster who enjoys torturing his victims, creatures far more helpless than him. Now you see him watching the she-goat with warm curiosity, rumbling softly inside his helm, far from the ravaging beast that approached you in that tunnel what seems like months ago.

You watch him with tender sadness as he marvels at the sky and remembers how he used to sit in the shade of an olive tree when he was a child. He goes to sit there now and examines how the sun filters through the massive branches of the tree as if trying to recall the memory.

He asks questions like: “How can you humans stand this heat?” or “Why is there only one road?” and listens to your answers carefully.

He says he can smell the sea, even if the salty water is miles and miles away, and gets curious about what’s behind that hill, or that one, what about that one… You wonder if he’s even interested in killing the king anymore and suggest that he could just forget about this cruel place and buy himself a sea voyage with that expensive sword. He could get rid of his helmet and ask if anyone needs a goat herd or an able-bodied man to help at construction sites or stables; he could get work from the docks any day, sail to Athens or some other big city, forge himself a new life.

But he doesn’t want to.

He says he has to avenge his mother who always cried when he was little.

More wretched tugs pull at your heart as you approach the city. The lovely summer’s day turns into a nightmare once people see who’s on his way to the heart of Crete.

You don’t understand their screams, not anymore, while only a few days ago you knew they preceded death. The Minotaur doesn’t kill anyone, mainly because he doesn’t have to. Everyone flees before his wake, people rush to their homes and bar the doors, even soldiers slip away to be with their loved ones or run to warn the king if they have any loyalty left.

You’re left to walk through the marketplace in settling dust and tense silence as the Bull Man explores the abundant samples of food on display. He has to have a taste of everything from all stands, but only after he has offered figs, olives, grain, grapes, grilled meat and fish to you first.

“Eat,” he says and shoves a handful of pine seeds your way. “You were hungry?”

“This is not the way to–” you ignore the food only through sheer willpower. “This is not right. People own these things. They sell them at the market, you need to pay for these.”

“Pay? With what?”

He looks at you for a moment, unable to recall what money is and how these things are supposed to work. He probably had his mother’s servants bring him everything he needed as a child anyway, so how could he know?

“They will take your hands for stealing,” you try to explain with softly building despair.

“I will take their heads before that.”

“The next king will hunt you down and punish you,” you rush after him, and when he won’t listen, you seize his hand and finally get him to halt. He looks down at the weak palm around his wrist, then raises his gaze to you.

“Bulls don’t have kings.”

Your attempts to tame him are futile. The things they’ve taught him to be are now being used as a way to escape responsibility, and while it’s none of your business, you refuse to let him believe that he is nothing more than an animal.

“You are not a bull,” you wail in frustration. “You’re a man.”

He hesitates, only for a moment; the gentle, loving gaze makes your legs weak.

“You’re the first to think that.”

Then he rips himself away from you, softly but sternly.

He doesn’t need directions to the palace: he knows he has to head for the most prominent building in the city to reach the king. The grandiose heart of Crete, white-chalked and beautiful under the burning midday sun is the pride of every citizen, even if it houses another monster.

You sigh as you watch him go: the Bull Man, the demon of the underworld, the one you thought would rape you bloody before you get to crawl out of the Labyrinth. The fact that he wanted to kill his father more than he wanted to be born again into a new life wasn’t a surprise, but that he chose to bloody his sword rather than his cock is somehow... insulting, almost.

What actually haunts you is how your insides coil and turn when you rush back to your temple. It’s not like you thought the Minotaur would take you with him. Board some trade ship bound for distant shores, and ravage you ever so softly in the belly of the creaking hull. It’s not like you dreamed of petting him to sleep while you two embark on a new life. But the way your heart twists and wails inside your chest makes it clear that losing him is even more painful than losing Theseus and the life he promised you.

You never even wanted Theseus; you only wanted him to take you away from here. His affection would have been the result of ample witchcraft at best.

He’s practically already dead, and your heart turns to stone far more slowly than you would prefer. It’s just your luck to first have the golden hero of Greece look down on you in disdain, and then witness even the Bull Man walk away from you like you never meant anything to him. Men killing each other is the oldest story in the world, and you want no part in it, but something in this beast has stirred you awake from a long, cold slumber. It’s infuriating that you can’t dispel a simple animal from your heart. Oldest story in the book, that one, too…

But oh, how you now yearn after some cruel, lowly, dirty beast… The Minotaur already owns you, and he never even had to plunge his sword inside you to prove that. Besides, you would’ve been perfectly willing had he decided to take you on the green grass, under the vast sky, while some noisy goats graze around you. You realize that that’s what you expected to happen, and when it didn’t, you’re left more than disappointed: you're left completely hollow. You always find out these things a little too late, it seems… The Bull is headed for the palace and will likely get killed after he slaughters his cruel father. There’s at least thirty spears in that building, and more will arrive when called.

You arrive at the temple, panting and with your body flushed and weak. The maidens at the entrance share a quick glance with each other before turning their fearful gazes back to you. They’re the youngest arrivals, not even initiates yet; one of them hardly even bleeds.

“The King is dead,” you announce without bothering to even greet them, and the girls huddle up together like they’re a bunch of slaves about to get slapped.

You realize you must look like an animal with your dirty robes, dishevelled hair and your wild, alive stare. No wonder they look like they’ve seen a ghost... You basically are one, coming back from the dead like this.

“What?”

A priestess arrives at the threshold like an image of Hecate herself, dressed in robes as black as the midnight sky, but you don’t shy away from her like you used to.

“Or he will be. Soon. The Minotaur is here.”

“How did you… How did it...”

You’ve never seen the priestess in disarray. She’s always composed, cold and distant, but seeing you like the wraith that you are, freshly escaped from the Labyrinth, spat back from the bowels of the earth like the dark gods didn’t even want you there, makes even the greatest of Hecate’s servants a little uneasy.

She gathers what’s left of her dignity and finds her most commanding voice. Sadly, it doesn’t have the power to shake the ground anymore.

“Where is Theseus of Athens?”

“Disemboweled… is my best guess,” you say in a listless voice, then turn your head toward the smell of fresh fruit.

Normally, you would walk these halls with dignity, but now, you simply barge in and grab the first piece of food you find. You ought to get whipped for your insolence, but no one dares to raise a hand against you. The maids and priestesses stare in shock as you eat and drink like a starved prisoner. You’re a living Hecate in certain aspects, your arrival the first toll of the bell of doom as the palace guards sound the alarm.

So…

The Minotaur has reached the king.

…

The priestesses deem it only logical that the King finally pays for his sins: the gods have been offended by the number of human sacrifices sent to the Labyrinth, and this is their way of exacting revenge. You were only an instrument of their will.

After a quick wash and some more food, you begin to feel like a human again. The maids bring you a new chiton, flowing and white: your old clothes are burned in a brazier as if that would help you forget.

And this might be the only place you don’t get blamed for unleashing a monster. You were at a crossroads with the Minotaur, and anyone would have done the same: try to talk him out of his killing spree, calm him down, entice him with a gift. No one expected that the beast could even speak, so your approach was unusual, perhaps, but it worked. Hecate guided you through the tunnels, even when the candle went out, she stilled the Bull’s loins until you reached the sunlight where the beast got distracted with other things. You leave out the Minotaur's attraction to birds, bees and butterflies because your story is unbelievable enough as it is.

But the Minotaur will be slain after he has done his deed: Minos is the one who should be punished, not the city of Crete. And it is only just to put down this beast, a mercy.

So when he appears between the pillars of temple, this time wholly covered in blood, people are bound to scream. Even the priestesses who are used to seeing blood, shriek like widows when the Minotaur steps inside the holy shrine of Hecate.

“Where is the maiden of the crossroads?”

He came back for you, after all…

The boom of his voice is familiar, and yet, you cower on the bench when you hear it. The Minotaur sounds like he’s an envoy of Hades himself, and while you’re not among those who scream and yell, it still sends shivers down your spine to hear him speak like that.

Or is it the excitement, a tiny flame of hope that makes you quiver like this?

“We all belong to the goddess,” someone peeps, the Minotaur now descending down the stairs.

The massive head turns, gaze like razor sweeping across the marbled shrine. You’re so far back that he can’t catch you, sitting behind many bodies and faces, and before you can force yourself to rise, the main priestess, the oldest, most crooked of the crones, steps forth to meet this beast.

“This is a House of Hecate,” she speaks. “No man is allowed to enter unless they are Death.”

The black carcass turns, but the priestess doesn’t waver. If anything, her spine turns into unbreakable metal before this man’s gaze.

“I am Death,” he says, far more gently than anyone would expect. Then he walks past the crone like she’s just a harmless elder. No one does a thing, because even the head of your temple is powerless now.

“She had a red string and a candle. Where is she?”

He grabs the first woman he sees, and you rise up before he decides it’s time to thrust his blade into someone to loosen the tongues of these women.

“Please,” you take a hesitant step towards your Bull. “I’m here... I’m the one you’re looking for.”

The Minotaur lets go of the frightened initiate the instant he sees you. She’s shoved aside with little interest, the blue eyes behind the corpse now solely fixed on you. The way they soften into hazy ice makes your knees weak – that’s the stare of someone who recognizes their loved one among a thick, dull crowd…

“Come with me,” he extends a hand when he reaches you, strong legs swallowing tiles like he’s in a hurry to get back to you. You open your mouth, close it, and look at his hand, the rough, enormous palm held out for you to place your own little hand in.

“You belong to me,” he says with great weight when you don’t speak. It should spark the ire of the goddess for him to dare to talk to you like this… But mostly, your body sings. It tells you to take a step and take his hand: to let him have you, once and for all.

“My place is here,” you utter, all power gone from your voice. All your dreams, all your fears are offering their hand to you with his, and the maidens, mothers and crones of this hall look upon your exchange with the Bull Man in stupefied silence.

“You were sent down to me,” he presses on. “You are mine now. You belong to me.”

Your body is singing, singing, singing.

It’s not a request… Or a proposal.

It’s a god, taking what’s his.

…

You swallow with nothing in your throat and look at the head priestess with helpless misery: she looks back with the eyes of a noxious Medusa, wholly dispassionate to the problems you brought upon yourself. And what could she even do? She’s unarmed against the claims of Hades: Death is now in love with you, and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it.

He doesn’t want to stay in the city, as enchanting as it is, saying that it stinks and that he’s tired of the screams. No one wants him here; he already knows that, and the task he was meant to do is done. He doesn’t seem to be much moved by it either, only asking you if there is a place where he can wash the blood off himself.

People become more bold when they see you walk out of the city. Not even the sight of a crimson demigod makes them watch their tongues. Insults and slurs follow you through the streets, shouts such as “Kingslayer!” and “Beast!” are accompanied with curses such as “You are an abomination!” and “Go back to your lair!”

No one treats him as their prince and savior, no one sees him as the man he truly is. And because hatred thickens in crowds, you get your share of the insults as well.

What kind of a woman would follow a beast like him? Have you sold your soul to the demons of the desert, or has Hades himself forced you to be with this monster? Are you behind the murder of their king?

“Must I remind you?” You turn on your heels, standing tall and proud with the posture of a queen. “According to the old laws, the one who slays the king is the next to rule.”

“You led him out of the Labyrinth, didn’t you?” the voices ask.

“Gave him your cunt, too,” they sneer.

“You’re worse than the bloody Gorgon,” they mock, but you have a thick skin: if anything, you take it as a compliment to be referred to the mighty slayers of men.

What cuts through your heart is the filth and hate they spit at him, the man who has known nothing but loath since he was born.

“Hecate’s whore… I should kill you first,” one soldier shouts with spit running down his chin.

The citizens of Crete would never hail the Minotaur as their king, but none can say the deed didn’t prove great strength. Some would even call it justice. He is the queen’s son, after all: he’s more royal than any of these dung-stinking peasants will ever be. He should never have been sent down to those tunnels in the first place.

Before you know it, the Minotaur swoops past you in haste, diving towards the screaming crowd with hunched shoulders and a fiery breath.

“Stop,” you say, and he halts immediately, gaze still directed to the one who called you a whore. The soldiers back away along with the peasants and tradesmen, these poor, humble Cretes who act like they never meant to be so mean.

“Let us go in peace,” you command, voice unwavering and stern. “Or I will curse you all. You and your families, down to the seventh son and seventh daughter.”

That manages to shut them up. The threat of a curse frightens these poor beasts even more than the enraged Minotaur breathing fire through his helm. No one wants rot and puke to follow them wherever they go; no one wants to doom their offspring with illness, death and sorrow. They disperse in all directions and only hiss and whisper as they go.

You spit on the ground as your last gift to these people, leaving the city of Crete with the ever-adoring Bull at your heels.

“You’re even prettier when you’re angry,” he says while walking next to you, voice thick with genuine passion and awe.

You roll your eyes: any man would cower before Hecate’s curse, but this one? This one only gets more horny.

“Perhaps you are part bull after all,” you retort dryly.

“It takes more than one spear to kill me,” he boasts, but you don’t need more proof of his prowess. Surely, people have tried to kill him in the Labyrinth, but he’s survived every single attempt on his life – for that alone, he should be a decorated hero.

The only thing that makes you annoyed, however, is this childish need to prove he could’ve taken the whole city by himself just because some man happened to call you a slut.

“Mother said I’m a monster instead of a man,” he says, completely unaware that your snap wasn't meant as a compliment. He says it like he’s partly proud of it, and you finally sigh and turn.

“Your mother was heartless. And wrong.”

The Minotaur only looks at you with a building passion that goes straight to your loins.

“But you’re not.”

“...What?”

“Heartless.”

You feel stripped naked before him, the way his eyes seem to burn away your poor dress. But the fact that he unearths your most guarded secret, just like that, is a catastrophe of a far wider scale.

You’re not sure who’s tied to whom anymore… Or if you’re tied to each other, the gods now laughing in their wine as they look down at you two: a fierce and bloodied giant following the maiden he stole like it’s you who took him and not the other way around.

You reach the roaring waters of a waterfall in silence, the night wrapping the lands inside a dark blue veil. Stars will be visible soon, and with the moon creeping up to the sky, you won’t be needing candles tonight. The silver mistress gives plenty of light for you to admire your beast, and compared to the thick darkness of the tunnels you emerged from this morning, it feels like a generous blessing.

You sit on the banks of the small, clear pond, utterly exquisite at nightfall. The sun’s heat has turned into a warm, caressing breeze, and you submerge your feet into the water, giving out a satisfied sigh as the cool pond embraces your travel worn feet. The Bull sinks to a crouch some distance away from you, curious about your obvious moment of pleasure.

“Did you meet her…? Your mother?” You ask from the cool water lapping at your feet – how can a simple man make you feel so restless and shy?

“Did you… kill her?”

“She cursed me,” he says, sullen and wholly unsurprised. Time and time again, you are shocked by the hatred his own kin shows him. How can a mother be so cruel?

“How could I kill my own maker?”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For everything.”

You swallow before such unwavering love. The same man who cursed the gods yesterday honours the womb he came from so much that he won’t raise a hand against it, not even when his own mother spits curses at him. You don’t know if it’s his greatest strength or biggest weakness, but sometimes you wonder if he’s more human than humans, this beast.

“I’m not,” he retorts immediately. “The king is dead. Mother is safe. I have you... This is the best day of my life.”

You turn to look at him. Time and again, the lack of lies and deceit in this man catches you off guard. It’s more painful than any wound, to see how the Minotaur has no protective skin against the corrupted human nature, that he is human nature before it was defiled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you falter.

The chiton pools around your ankles, and you wonder if the man even breathes anymore. You know your skin is glowing with the last rays of the setting sun, you’re aware that the water and moonlight play upon your skin and make you look like an illusion, powerful in its own way.

When have you ever faltered…? Back when you were a little girl, you reckon, the notion euphoric and eerie in your bones.

You rise up and undress before him nonchalantly, trying to ignore the fervid stare of your admirer. Unclasping the brooches holding up your white linen dress, you let it fall down and set you free, secretly reveling in the downright carnal stare now glued to your skin.

Ripe for plucking, you think while stepping out of the pile of cloth and into the thin evening air. His gaze feasts on you: the plump breasts no one ever loved, the vulnerable navel down below, the dark triangle between your legs, the secret power it holds.

Heat pools into your core as you watch him: everything in your body turns warm and soft when you take in the utter heftiness of him. The mean, swelling phallus between his legs, the near inhuman strength those shoulders and chest possess. Your body is the complete opposite of him, ethereal, almost, compared to the absolute brute strength before you.

His eyes linger there the longest until he rises too, stiff and dreamy, a beast entirely taken by a thrall. The loincloth is practically torn away, as if it’s only a nuisance he must get rid of immediately. His eyes never leave your shape while he bares himself, and the phallus, you notice, belongs to a human. It’s thick and wondrous, fully erect, adorned with dark curls and accompanied by a set of balls you’ve mainly seen on horses. Big, full and round but unlike animals, they’re covered in dark fur, almost black here in the evening light. Thick seed beads through the slit of his cock from simply seeing you, and the way his chest heaves makes it clear that this man is ready to mate as soon as he’s allowed to do so.

“You need to take off your helm,” you lift your chin, thoroughly aware of your power over him, even if it’s laughable, a miracle that he doesn’t fuck you on the spot like the animal he is. “You’re a man, not a bull.”

His eyes don’t betray any kind of hesitation. He doesn’t seem to be interested in whether he wears his mask or not. He just blinks as if he’s indeed under a spell and nods.

“If you say so.”

The broad muscles flex as he takes it off, and what is revealed to you from underneath the head is both a surprise and a disappointment. There’s not a monster under there, only a man, a stoic, boorish, shaggy male who’s in desperate need of a wash and a comb. He’s somewhat handsome under all that facial hair and knots, actually, not bad at all – if you like your men rugged and wild.

He lets the head drop to the ground with a thud as if it was never a part of him at all, and follows you into the pool like you’re his mother and he’s your cub about to get scrubbed clean.

He seems to dwarf you, even when half submerged in the pond, leaning back with a sigh not unlike yours. If you’re afraid, your body has a peculiar way of showing it: even in the clear, glossy water, you can feel yourself get wet. Never have you seen such strength, not in any man: in horror and awe, you realize he could be a descendant of Zeus himself. As if providing proof to these claims, he looks up to the sky, mesmerized by the myriad stars dotting the vast, unattainable blue.

Using this momentary distraction to your advantage, you reach to pluck a handful of moss from the bank. With this soft little sponge in your hand, you hope to make it clear that this is indeed a bath, not foreplay.

“They’re stars,” you say softly while slinking closer to him. “Have you ever seen them...?”

“Yes,” he rasps with his head lolled back, throat completely exposed. It always hurts your heart to see that he trusts you so fully. You are no threat to him – even if the gods changed the moss in your hand into a weapon of some sort, you wouldn’t pose any kind of challenge. And still, the way he allows you to creep towards him and wipe his rough hide with the makeshift sponge without so much as flinching is heartbreaking.

“I have forgotten…” his voice drifts off as he examines the night sky, eyes filled with distant, glass-like delight.

“Beautiful, aren’t they...?”

“Your world is pretty,” he brings his gaze back to earth and to you. “But you’re the loveliest thing I’ve seen so far.”

You almost freeze upon hearing that. His compliments always catch you off guard, but this time, something forbidden and long forgotten comes undone: a lost want, no, a need to hear such simple words of shallow praise.

“You do not scream... You do not run. Why?”

Your eyes are liquid, glass about to break as you set yourself on the task of scrubbing him clean. You refuse to get emotional in front of him: an initiate of the dark goddess, shedding tears when a horny man calls her pretty? What utter nonsense.

But then he grabs your wrist: not to seize back power, but to prevent you from escaping this fragile moment.

“You are different,” he agrees calmly, then releases you, but you reckon it’s mostly because he misses the soft rubs you were giving him.

“Perhaps I’m crazy,” you breathe while looking at the damp curls on his chest.

Yes… That’s the only explanation for this madness. It has to be.

“Is that why you took me?”

“I took you because you’re mine. I want you.”

“You can’t just take what you want,” you warn softly.

“Why not?” His head tilts a little to the side as he’s trying to make sense of you and the manners of your world. “Don’t you want to be mine?”

You lift your gaze and risk a look into his eyes, stripped from all facades as always. You even catch a passing wave of worry there: he had counted on you being as fascinated with him as he is with you. The hunger behind that want, the need to be something special to you, is a whole another issue that must wait until your head is more clear. Way more clear…

“Perhaps,” you confess.

“I have nothing to give you,” he shrugs, eyes looking slightly past you this time, out of shame or anxiety. It takes a while for you to understand he’s liking you to the goods at the market and thinks he’s expected to have money to be able to keep you.

“You don’t need to pay for me,” you smile, trying your best to disguise the soft amusement in your voice. His brows only furrow as he tries to calculate and think.

“I don’t understand the rules of this world,” he finally shakes his head.

“I’ll teach you.”

For a while, he only looks on with fascination how you rub his arms and belly, basically massaging him with the wet moss. His eyes drift closed when you scrub the back of his neck, the stout erection only getting thicker under the cool water. You’re careful with his legs, not because you’re afraid he’s ticklish but because you try to avoid touching the huge cock already jutting up from happiness. It gives a few excited bounces when you wash his inner thighs, hopeful to get its needs satiated soon.

“I can hunt for you,” he suggests. “Bring you food… Protect you.”

He’s visibly excited when figuring out a way to give you something in return. He wants to provide offerings for your company, your lore, and eventually, your cunt, too. You might be a virgin, but you’re not stupid: of course he wants the soft, wet prize between your legs. A pair of lovely tits to squeeze at night... Ears to groan hushed confessions into, thighs to nibble, bite and suck until you cry...

“What do you think?” He asks, breath heavy from the bliss you’re already granting him by simply giving him a bath. “I could give you my heat. Please you...”

“You know how to please women?”

“No. But you could teach me.”

The way he says it is not shy. Only tentative. A bear, walking on ice and hoping it would carry his weight. One wrong step and the ice will swallow him, spitting out his bones only in spring.

And then…

“Do you know how to fuck?”

The ice holds, mainly because you’re too shocked to even slap or ridicule this man. His eyes bore into you with such unbridled greed that you have trouble keeping your precious pride intact.

“Of course,” you hear yourself whisper like it would be an insult to your intellect if you didn’t.

“Teach me,” he says, ever more greedily.

“I…”

Your jaw is left open, but not a word comes out. A strong palm closes around your wrist again, this time to bring you flush against him. The water laps at your skin, a distant crow cackles somewhere. Your hand is brought to his phallus, but he doesn’t have to wrap your fingers around it: you do it all by yourself, breath locked in your throat as you feel how hard and blazing he is.

“You want my cock,” he says, mouth only an inch from yours. “Don’t you...?”

You wet your lips – a mistake, because his half-lidded gaze darts to your mouth the instant your pink tongue lashes out. You’re in a predicament, but on the other hand, what else did you expect, taking your clothes off in front of a touch-starved bull?

“I’d give it to you happily,” he insists. “No female ever wanted to spread her legs for me.”

Or a leash.

Your fingers tighten on their own, they mould around him. Like a bond…

“Really?” You breathe. “What fools they were...”

The cock gives a full throb inside your palm, exalted to be yours. But only a moment later, the dreaded Minotaur moves.

You find yourself under him before you can even gasp for air: the soaked, hot body of a giant now pinning you on the grass and crushing you under it with ease. The weight of your error is fully pressed against you: he was never tamed, and you were a fool to think you could put him in chains.

The raw scent of earth and musk fills your nostrils, making the stars above you spin. His cock is trapped between your bodies, giving another rich pulse against your thigh. Gods, if he were throbbing like that inside you…

“You make my skin burn,” he growls into your ear, the heat of his skin now unbearable, the coarse hair prickling your skin from neck to thigh. “My loins, ache…”

“Are you a witch?” He asks, and you finally allow yourself to breathe.

If he only knew… But hexes and charms are of no use for you now: the only thing you can do is moan, apparently, as he dives for your neck, planting barbarous kisses on your skin.

Down, down, down he goes, pure avarice driving him to feast on every part of you. You’re too weak to stop him when he searches for the source of your intoxicating scent. Discovering it between your thighs, he dives nose-first into your sex, meeting your core with a hungry grunt.

Your back arcs with pleasure, your nails sink into his back: a funny thing to do when he’s already as close as can be. The trail of crude kisses leads him to your breasts, and you try to keep your whimpers in control, but a gasp erupts when he drags a hot tongue across your nipple. Massive palms close around your tits while you squirm in his hold: he doesn’t seem to be driven by the need to please you; rather, he wishes to study you first, examine how your body reacts to his groping. He leaves your breasts aching and sore, every bite and suck managing to make you wetter and wetter, your cunt screaming for attention by now.

“Gods...” you wriggle on the soft earthen bed, not expecting him to take you with his mouth first.

He withdraws, only a little, but his voice is surprisingly soft.

“Do I hurt you...?”

“No… But this is not mating…”

“Even I know that much,” he says darkly, and grabs you by the waist, moves you around like a doll until you find yourself on your belly.

He looks at you from between your thighs, demonic and keen. The broad shoulders force your legs wide apart when he’s seated there, waist-deep in the water, with you hauled to the shore like a siren.

Not a moment is wasted as he pulls you back to him by the hips: you’re drawn to all fours, a hot streak of cum dragging on the inside of your thigh from the cock that meets your skin. He grabs and steadies it with an annoyed grunt, and the fat tip is shoved straight into your folds, your nether lips parted with brute force almost.

“Guide me.”

His voice is demanding, impatient as he drags the fat head up and down the entrance of your hole, coating his cock with your slick in the process. You wonder if it’s instinctual, if he knows that this is where he should poke and that it will hurt you less if he’s well-oiled. He’s about to rut you into oblivion the instant you tell him where to shove his cock, and the prospect only sends more sap flowing down your thigh.

“There…” you stutter when he finds it, the aching spot that’s leaking profusely. He pushes the head in, not by teasing but by bullying, almost forcing it inside from how tight and unreceptive you are.

“Tighter than my fist,” is his only comment, and it makes you shudder. “I will not last long…”

You wince from the burn, but the rest of it glides in like a dream, and suddenly you’re filled, to the capacity, one could say. He grunts just from the way your womanhood is hugging him, not sure what this foreign object inside you is – is it a good thing or a threat?

“Easy then,” you breathe a huff into the sweet night air, filled with fireflies and night birds who know nothing about the fucking you’re about to go through.

He doesn’t move – inside you, that is. Outside, he crawls forward until he moulds around you, heavy body enveloping you completely. The hairs on his thighs tickle the back of your legs, his chest scrapes your back just so as he demonstrates how you belong to him in every way. But when your cunt starts to squeeze him again, he swallows thickly.

“Does this feel good to you too…?”

You catch faint confusion and concern in his voice, astonished that such a soft, frail body like yours can take his cock just like that. Little does he know you’re still adjusting to his size, thanking all the gods that he doesn’t move yet.

“Yes,” you confess because it does feel good: his thickness inside you, stretching you both gently and violently, studying how it feels to be inside a loving, wet heat.

“Then I will fuck you every day,” his lips come to brush your ear. “Many times...”

You hear yourself whimper, more humble now than ever. No man would dare to take you on all fours, but here you are, like a bought bride about to get stuffed…

He withdraws a little, asks, “Like this?” when he returns with a rough, nasty thrust. The balls meet your mound, heavy on the tender nub you’ve flicked when you’re lonely, covering your mouth while you do it. Both your hands are planted on the ground now, your legs spread before this beast, cunt filled to the brim with his cock.

“Not so rough,” you warn, and he heeds your instructions to the letter until he’s moving in and out with a slow, delicious pace that allows you to feel every thick bump of him. Soaked now down to your thighs, the sounds of your mating is utterly sloppy and slick, and of course he’s curious.

“Are you always like this…?”

“Like… what,” you huff in between the slow, torturous thrusts.

“Soft,” he rasps. “Tight… Wet like rain.”

“No. It’s just when…”

“When you want to fuck?”

You whimper for an answer, mostly because he starts to slip from the agreed sluggish pace. His cock invades you with more urgency, chasing the eruption that must be generous from those thick balls that should belong to a horse.

“I knew it…” he says dreamily behind you. “Some women want to mate with bulls...”

He punctuates his newfound pride with a full, deep thrust, and you wince.

“You’re not a–”

“Keep telling yourself that, little maiden.”

He exhales a hot smile next to your ear, and you’re neck deep in love. Your mouth hangs open, your lids half closed and fluttering from the way he pounds into your poor, abused cunt. Heavy balls slap your swollen nub with careless abandon, making you squeeze his thickness every time he hits the end of you. His grunts become more animalistic with every thrust, and your cunt is a wild thing, leaking and weeping and throbbing until you fear there’s something wrong with you – no woman is supposed to be this needy for a beast…

I’m going to come… You realize in horror as the slick sounds of fucking overthrow even the coursing roar of the waterfall. The knowledge shoots your body full of dark, hot ink; it explodes inside your core like a liquid star, throbbing through your cunt currently being ploughed like you’re nothing but a needy, sloppy hole for him. You’re swimming in so much pleasure that it’s almost painful, the revelation some secret of the gods, no doubt.

He growls when you moan, heavy arm snaking its way around your middle to keep you in place for him. The purr is eager and low, the rumble erupts from his chest like a thick, loving volcano, a statement of how perfect you are. He nuzzles his nose into your neck and rubs his scent all over you while fucking you through it, the divine rapture that leaves your throat dry from moans.

He doesn’t need to be told what it means when you’re crying like that: he doesn’t need to be explained that his cock is giving you ample pleasure. It’s so desperate, how much he wants to both fuck and please you, just own you and fulfill you, that you start to shake, your frail body not capable of handling the orgasm he just gave you.

Your strength fails, and you find yourself on your elbows, cunt even more exposed to him now, the cock pistoning into you with a relentless pace. He’s like a titan upon you, taking pleasure from your quivering, weak frame and the tight wet hole that belongs to it. You’re still in rapture when he starts to sound like broken, wounded man.

“You were made for me,” he huffs. “You were made...for me…”

His voice evaporates along with your thin, adoring mewls, just before he fucks himself over the edge. You can feel the hot, thick spurts, filling you as he roars into your hair, balls pressed flush against your sex, thighs meeting yours in a moment frozen in time.

They can probably hear him all the way to the city, hear what a cunt like yours does to an invincible beast like him… But his cries are only met with silence; the night sky looks back with disinterest, the birds continue their songs when they notice it was only the roar of a mighty beast that filled the land. Before long, he’s groaning above you, using your hole more softly; loving it until the last drop is milked.

When he stops, his whole body is trembling from release, but you’re not given a moment of reprieve. He forces you to the ground with him on your back, the rough, thick body never leaving yours. Coarse beard chafes your neck, his body trapping you completely under him, he even opens his jaw to take your shoulder between his teeth and bites you while his cock is still pulsing fat inside you.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he pants into your ear, angry, almost.

“Good,” you breathe a smile, but he’s not satisfied.

“You couldn’t get enough of me too… I noticed.”

“You gave me pleasure,” you agree. “Lots of it.”

“That was a lot of seed… I haven’t spilled in days.”

He huffs into your ear, astonished and proud that he could do such a thing. You feel him shift to take a better look at you, fingers arrive to graze your temple as if to make sure you’re real, as if having his cock inside you wasn’t enough proof of that. They’re a little shaky, a little uncouth, but the touch is gentle enough, and sweet.

He's boasting again perhaps, you don’t know, but you give him a soft laugh, notice how he stops breathing momentarily when hearing the bright sound.

“I am filled to the brim with you, yes… It will take a while before I can take more.”

“...You have other holes in you,” he offers after a while, quite seriously, in fact.

“Get off me, you beast,” you huff and squirm to get out from under him, but there’s a luscious grin on your face, a smile that tells him you would more than approve of his obscene ideas later.

“This feels good,” he murmurs into your hair. “This feels right...”

He allows you to leave from under him, only whines when his cock gets exiled from your cunt. He misses the wet heat like a newborn child misses the womb, but you need to recover from the recent invasion. Seed gushes out from your hole, making a mess on the ground as he pulls you against him, wanting to cuddle you next.

You wonder if he even knows what cuddling means as you lie there with a sticky mess between your legs and the heat of an entire sun on your cheeks. You smile into the coarse, sweaty body hair tickling your nose, deciding it doesn’t matter whether he knows or not: the most important thing is that he wants to hold you like this.

“Yes,” you smile. “This feels right…”

Something blooms in your chest. An odd flower, persistent and sweet.

The stars above are cold but motherly as they look down on you two: born again into a world that doesn’t want either of you. The only things that accept you now are flowers, birds, the wind and the rain, bees and salty sea, but that’s aplenty. That’s more than the whole of Crete could ever give you.

“Are you thinking about your hero,” he asks above you.

“What? No…”

“Good,” he rasps, so softly now that you start to fear he’s about to cry.

You are more than capable of lying, but Theseus hasn’t crossed your mind in hours: the last time it did, the memory was received with loath and disdain. Thinking about Theseus while you’re draped all over your Bull, his seed flowing out of your womb... What a ridiculous idea.

The reason for his hardly disguised anger is laid out plain before you: he's just jealous like any other man. Somehow, it makes you feel even more glowy inside.You’re my hero, you want to say, but have no courage to spill out the words. He was balls deep inside you mere moments ago, but telling him this intimate truth seems to be too much.

It never occurred to him, then, that you would enjoy copulating with him. He fucked you with the impression that you needed thoughts of another man to make you wet… That perhaps with the help of the image of Theseus in your mind, you were able to come with his cock inside you.

“My Bull,” you whisper. “Tell me your name. You must have a name…?”

His breath stops only for a moment, the heart in his chest gives an arduous beat before he answers.

“Asterion.”

Starry one…

Of course.

All monsters have names, usually the opposite of what they’re claimed to be. His birth is in heaven, in the stars; he belongs to the company of heroes and gods.

“Asterion,” you whisper it out into the night air while the animal an man both find their new home in your arms. “Your birth is written in the stars. Did you even know…?”

“Does that make me a hero?” He snorts, more old wounds torn open right before your eyes.

You wriggle yourself out of his hold, but he avoids your stare. You lift a hand to bring those beautiful Olympian eyes back to you.

“It makes you immortal.”

Perhaps you should’ve known he would be enticed with an apple instead of tethers and deals. Or with a palm, held out with no intent to strike…

It’s lovely, how he blinks every time he’s confused. You’ve yet to see him shy, but if he ever is, this might be the moment… You even catch him swallowing under that wild facial hair, an awkward blob right after that blink when his birthright is acknowledged.

But even more dumbfounded he becomes when he realizes you’re truly and veritably admiring him. When you whisper it to him – you’re my hero – and watch something shatter in him that was supposed to wrench itself free, that’s when he’s truly granted divinity.

Perhaps it was all about becoming animal again, allowing the other to have a sniff. Baring your throat and embracing the instinct to trust. Marrying your wild soul… The deepest magic of all.

#könig x reader #könig cod #könig x you #konig x reader #könig mw2 #konig x you #könig smut #könig fanfiction #konig smut #cod könig

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communistkenobi · 4 months

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"Sex" is commonly used to refer to a person's status as a man or woman based on biological factors. Although sex reflects a person's biology, as opposed to gender, which is generally considered to be socially constructed, the biological aspect of the body that determines a person's sex has not been legally or medically resolved. Traditionally, a person's legal sex is established by the sex that the birth attendant places on the birth certificate. Thus, for infants born with unambiguous external genitalia, the external genitalia typically control the sex determination. If the genitalia appear ambiguous, sex is assigned, in part, based on sex-role stereotypes. The presence of an "adequate" penis in an XY infant leads to the label male, while the absence of an "adequate" penis leads to the label female. A genetic (XY) male with an "inadequate" penis (one that physicians believe will be incapable of penetrating a female's vagina when the child reaches adulthood) is "turned into" a female even if it means destroying his reproductive capacity. A genetic (XX) female who may be capable of reproducing, however, is generally assigned the female sex to preserve her reproductive capability, regardless of the appearance of her external genitalia. If her phallus is considered to be too large to meet the guidelines for a typical clitoris, it is surgically reduced, even if it means that her capacity for satisfactory sex may be reduced or destroyed. In other words, men are defined based on their ability to penetrate females, and females are defined based on theis ability to procreate. Sex, therefore, can be viewed as a social construct rather than a biological fact.

— The Road Less Traveled: The Problem with Binary Sex Categories by Julie A Greenberg in Transgender Rights (2006)

interesting to note that 1) the introduction of chromosomal information doesn’t actually provide more “biologically accurate” precision in sex assignment, only a more complex set of administrative and medical instructions on the procedures of assignment, 2) the only concern in sex assignment is maintaining the distinction that “females make babies” and “males penetrate females to induce pregnancy.”

This is why the idea that “sex is biological” or that we can just drill down to find the sex atom of the human body, be that chromosomes or gametes or whatever else, is premised on the notion that sex assignment is simply a record of a self-evident reality, not the construction of the category of sex as the mythological foundation of cis-heterosexual reproduction

#even old new york was once new amsterdam #recalling that person I was talking to who said I’m quibbling about being ‘born’ as a particular sex #like I’m sorry you just have not done the reading you have nothing interesting say. insert mao quote #book club

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yourstrqly · 7 months

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✰ POSITIONS, F1 DILFS

[ starring ] sebastian vettel, kimi räikkönen, fernando alonso, jenson button, lewis hamilton, kevinmagnussen

[ tw ] fem!reader, smut (+18), dom!drivers, mention of sex toys and tapes, dirty talking, fem and male oral receiving (+ choking on dick)

. minors do not read .

sebastian enjoys sitting back to watch you play with yourself, be it your dainty fingers buried deep inside your pussy and coated in your juices, or the dildo, the copy of his cock, he had gifted you months ago when he was away; the sight of the grip your greedy pussy has on the plastic phallus and your body writhing in the sheets, whorish moaning his name to pled for relief, thighten his trousers but rather than bouncing you, feeling your tight little satch, he leans forward, breath fawning onto your wet tights, resulting in goosebumps.

you'd cry out silently, legs shaking as you ram the toy faster into your warmth. "what did you say, liebe? (love) care to repeat?", the man would ask, his rough hands grabbing your thick tights. "want my big dick inside you? fuck you till you can't remember your name and see stars no more, huh?", he'd taunt you with a massive smirk on his pinkish lips. "that what you would like, don't you, my dirty girl?"

kimi prefers on being hands on, having you knee in front of him to suck him off. tears have already escaped your eye and stained your hallowed cheeks, while his right hand sits at the back of your head, hair kept in a ponytail to manage the speed and the desired depth. your glossy eyes holding contact with his lustfilled gaze and the choking sounds as well as the moans that send off vibrations around his dick, makes him pull your face against his pelvic bone to deep throat him. the tightness of your wet mouth let's his cock throb slightly, the taste of salty pre cum hits your tongue once again.

slowly, kimi would face fuck you, forcing your lips to touch his pelvic whenever he pulls your head towards him, forcing your jaw to go slack and take his long cock all the way as saliva runs out of the corners of your stretched mouth, trailing down your tits and eventually hitting the carpet. "you love being my good girl, eh? then choke on it."

nando loves to grab your plump ass whilst hugging you whenever it is in public or in the privacy of a room — if his action is made in the later situation, the innocence of his touch quickly turns into nibbling playfully on your ear and neck, leaving small marks to show his claim of you. his finger would dip inside your clothing to touch your already wet pussy, gently brushing past the outer lips to rub your clit, which will transform you into mush against his body. wanting to eat you out, nando would lay you down on the bed if there is one, probing pillows under your hips to get an easy access to your wetness. he's godsend, festing on your pussy as it would be his last time, resulting in leaving you a breathless moaning puddle of a mess. "please don't stop, papi."

jenson would be the guy who'd twirl, pull and nib on your stiff nibbles as you stroke his growing dick whilst watching a sex tape of yourselves to get in the right zone. in his opinion its one of the easiest ways to set the mood; watching a homemade video of him plowing inside you from behind against a hotel wall or having you cuffed on the bedframe, fucking your little hole hard as you cum over and over again — he'll feel your breath stock whenever his recorded self hits your g-spot or lands a spank on your brightly coloured ass, and the slick of your snatch drips on his leg, that's between yours, rubbing over your cunt.

"in another life, you'd be a pornstar, darling", jense would whisper in your ear as he moves above you, running the fat leaking head of his cock against your awaiting pussy.

lewis would have you in sixty-nine, tongue tracing the rim of your snatched hole as you kitten-lick off the precum of his massive dick and nibble softly on a bold vein, chasing a groan out of the fit male. as soon as you reach past the half, he'll push his cock upwards, causing you to choke on his dick — his less dominating hand keeps your head down as his other hand sinks two fingers at the same time inside you roughly, sending you over the edge, a process he continues over again till you tap his thight two times.

"fucked you good, huh?"

kevin likes nothing more than seeing you completely relaxed and giggling during a session of soft, romantic sex; it's his favourite way to return to a relaxed state of mind after a race and running behind his small children. he'll have you ride him though he'd control the pace while pressing your face against his neck to feel you sucking kisses against it. whenever kevin would push hard upwards inside you, he'd hear you purr like a catita or moan, rambling about how he should just throw you down and fuck you, but this will just result in his next pushes slower, teasing you to show you who's the "boss".

POLY/MULTI DRIVERS — SINGULAR DRIVERS

#f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #sebastian vettel smut #kimi räikkönen smut #fernando alonso smut #jenson button smut #sebastian vettel x reader #kimi räikkönen x reader #fernando alonso x reader #jenson button x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #kevin magnussen smut #kevin magnussen x reader #f1

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defmaybe · 16 days

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Cherry

NMIXX’s Oh Haewon x Male Reader

2.5k words

A/N: Dawg. Another BFH fic, I promise I’ll reduce the output rate lol. Also, thanks to @djnayeon for inspiring this with a fucking Shrek gif lol. Thanks for reading!!!

—

Haewon tosses a torn piece of paper with a scribble on it.

My dorm, 602

—

You stand in front of a dormitory, exuding malice with its structure–black, trapezoid, dystopian. A buzzer then signals you to enter. The glassy doors slide open, giving the sight of its stark interior.

You trail through the rotating stairs, seeing your destination up high. Each step grows heavier, as her room comes closer and closer. Fatigue sets in. Fuck.

But just as you’re about to give up, the number appears on the door right in front of you—602.

Thank fuck.

You knock on the door, as the customs—three times, knock, knock, knock. You wait. You wait. You wait. It’s an eternity of ten seconds. Before the door swings open, giving you the sight of an olive-haired woman, dressed in a tight, cream top, with the pants that leaves little to your imagination.

“Get in,” Haewon orders, annoyance spreads on her expression. “Don’t fucking ogle me right now, keep it to when I fuck your brains out.”

You settle yourself inside her room immediately. It’s tidy, perfect for a lone living space–bed over here, bathroom over there, table by the bed. It’s everything you’d expect from this type of room. Then, you catch the Imaginal Disk vinyl sitting above a player, with other ones: Alvvays, Emotion, Keepsake.

“Come,” Haewon orders, snapping you out of the trance. “Eat my cunt.”

—

“Fucking pervert,” she huffs, as the wet squelches of your tongue lapping up her tangy nectar carry through the room. Her tempting lush folds only heighten your lust further. And despite the nonchalant verbal expressions, her quivering nails gripping on your scalp seem to have their objections. Oh, the woman that you are, Haewon.

Long gone, her lower garments, leaving her in a cream top. Every blow of wind would give the view of her erect nubs from time to time, What a sight. Not to add, her luscious, creamy thighs only sate your unquenchable thirst.

Right now, your world is only her—her glistening cunt, to be exact. You need to take all of her for yourself—every square millimeter of her velvety flesh, every strand of her silk, every drop of her salty liquid gushing out in arousal. You alternate between her juicy folds and the swollen nub, sweeping her sensitive area for all you can. “Ah! Fuck!” And you earn a wailing from her.

You’re sure that the crescent marks are going to be visible until at least the next week, eliciting some laughs and giggles from your prudish peers. But they will never know what an ecstasy it is to be eating Haewon’s pussy like this, with the mixture of your fluids running down your chin.

“F-Fuck, yeah, just like that, boy toy,” Haewon moans. “Keep eating my pussy like this and I’ll fuck your ass until you can’t walk.”

The promise of her plastic phallus pushes you up among the clouds. God, her artificial cock plowing your ass, making you her bitch. Every thrust ramming your prostate to your own brim, as you moan like a fucking cockslut you are–hungry for her domination.

You part her wet folds at an even quicker speed. “F-Fuck, boy toy, you’ve improved, haven’t you?”

“Life is a learning, mommy,” you answer through the act. Haewon lets go of your sore head, instead using her palms, softly pressing your head onto her instead.

“Witty, I like that.” And you just whimper out in response.

Her stream of lubricant won’t seem to stop, and it’s like you’d complain about her taste–tangy, intense, robust. While the scent, far from the flowers of the springs, only shackles you by the throat to keep eating her cunt like there’s no tomorrow. It’s intoxicating, she’s intoxicating, fuck.

Queued, her legs shake, signaling the pending orgasm on your face. “M-Mommy’s gonna cum soon, boy toy. Keep eating my cunt just like that,” Haewon commands.

With her words, your touches become more intense, eager to please your mommy to her climax. You wait for her torrent on your pretty face.

And just like that, her legs shake, a fountain of her squirt paints your features. You let your tongue out to taste her liquid–clear, yet intense like her aggression.

“Fuck, yes, drink it up, you dirty cuntslut,” she grunts, body still convulsing from the pleasure. God, quite a thesaurus she has.

Her squirt flows for a few more heartbeats into your welcoming mouth until she comes down from her climax. Her juice comes out just as slow as her subsiding breathing.

“F-Fuck, that was good, boy toy,” Haewon huffs, smiling, before her voice would become low again. “Now get on the bed, get that asshole ready.”

On a whim, you jump back first onto her bed, with her plushies jumping a bit upon your landing. You quickly push your pants off, and your cock springs out. Not to mention your eager puckered hole, so ready for her rough pounding.

Haewon picks up a harness with a dildo on it–daunting in its length, outrageous in its girth. You aren’t walking normally to your dorm today.

“I-It’s so big, m-mommy,” you whimper.

Standing, latching her strap, she bends forward to speak, “A slut like you deserves to be stretched out, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes, mommy.”

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.” She finishes the last lock of her strap-on, before discarding her creamy top, displaying her tits in glory.

“Give me the lube, it’s above your head,” she orders, and you toss her the red bottle from the cabinet above you.

“Ready?” Haewon asks, stroking her plastic cock with a strawberry-scented lubricant.

“Yes, mommy.”

Boldly, she pounces on your thighs for a grip–so tightly. Her glistening length is merely an inch away from you. She grins–so malevolent.

Boldly, her length pierces your tightness, inch by inch. Fuck, it’s stretching you out. You’re fighting the urge to moan, like you haven’t been under her assertion all this time.

“Hmm~, so ready for mommy.”

Boldly, she buries her plastic cock up to the hilt, hitting the little spot called the prostate. It sends shocks through you, and she seems to be satisfied with your contorted expression.

Boldly, you moan, so loud, too loud. And she giggles at the sight.

“Can’t handle my cock, baby?” she says, as she slowly slides the length out.

“Ngh,” you cry out. The filling inside you agonizingly disappears. But as you thought she’d pull out all the way, she rams herself back into you. “Ahhh. Fuck.”

Haewon chuckles at you, pulling out again. And it begins, the rhythm of her dominance.

You become pliant for her–to touch, to play with, to fuck. She gains her tempo in messaging your inner walls. “Keep moaning like that, boy toy, It’s a song to me.”

Your mind is lost in the stars, only moans and whimpers to follow her orders. “Ngh, ahhh, mmmh.” Her pounding is so rough, yet it only fuels your fire further.

“Y-Your cock is so good, mommy.”

“I know, boy toy, I know you’d love my cock like a slut you are,” Haewon responds with a chuckle. Her hips strike your ass faster, hitting your prostate at the bullseye with each jerk. “Say it, who’s my little slut.”

You take a deep breath, before responding, “I-I’m your slut, mommy.”

“Louder.”

You take another deep breath, before shouting this time, “I’M YOUR SLUT, MOMMY.”

“Good boy, good fucking boy,” Haewon says, before dragging out her pace as she pants.

“Wha-What are you doing, mommy?” you ask, voice shaking with worry.

“I-I need your cum inside me, c’mere,” Haewon huffs, as she pulls in your thighs until they press against hers. The plastic cock points up along with yours.

“Can’t have your cock go soft before I, ugh,” she grunts, forcefully attempting to unbuckle the strap from herself. “Why the fuck is it so hard?”

“Nghhhh, mommyyy, please just fuck me already,” you groan out, being pulled away from the precipice second by second.

A forceful slap lands on your ass, “Ah! Fuck!”, the red mark of Haewon’s hand is probably imprinted on a canvas called you.

“You’re in no position to exert your needs here, alright? Shut the fuck up!” Haewon shouts, voice raspy, and you can do nothing but comply. “You’re so fucking lucky that I let you get a taste of my cunt. If you’re pulling some shit like this again, I’ll fucking hang you on the edge, alright?”

“Y-Y-Yes, mommy,” you whimper, voice shaking.

“Now, let me get this ugh- fucking strap off.” She struggles with it a bit more, until she finally tears it off, revealing her aroused sex for you once again. “Fucking finally.”

And it’s quick—the way she quickly envelops your cock within her drenched folds. And it plays out by the cowgirl’s book—her supple ass sliding up and down your cock, your moans, her moans (even if hers are in a much lower register–more like a groan per se).

“Nghhhh.”

“Fuckkkk.”

“M-Mommy!”

“Ah!”

The cacophony fills Haewon’s room, combined with the mess of fleshes clapping into each other. The allegro tempo makes it easier for you to make your eyes flutter in raw, unscathed ecstasy. The storm is still far away, but you can see it. You can see it. Lightning. The sound of it. The small drops of water on your arms, signaling the whirlwind of a release in the distance.

With her movement, your eyes keep alternating between her bouncing, luscious mounds and the sight of your cock disappearing into her. This shit is fucking hypnotizing.

“Don’t you dare go fucking other slut, understand? I-I only have you.”

Her first tinge of genuine affection. Your heartbeat quickens even more at her words.

“Y-Yes, ah, mommy,” you respond.

And somehow, boldly, Haewon captures you with her cherry-flavored lips–ardent, confident, ass still grinding on your filthy cock. She keeps gasping for air, but her tongue sweeps every square millimeter of your dirty, lustful mouth. She cups your face tight.

But before you can revel in the act, Haewon pulls back from the kiss. Her face is now flushed, eyes elsewhere with hands wiping the saliva away. And you smile.

“The fuck you’re smiling at, huh? Just fucking cum inside me, boy toy, fill me up.”

Your voice isn’t shaky anymore, reinvigorated by the kiss. “Okay, mommy.”

Haewon rides you faster, upping the tempo of yourselves clashing together. Her tight, velvety walls are calls of the storm. It’s raining now, and flashes and flashes of lightning can be seen from afar.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum,” she moans, as her body atop of you shakes–violent, unyielding. She keeps the pace for her sex to be impaled by your length. Her juicy thighs lose their controls. Her breaths grow shorter. And her wanton cunt is quivering.

And she cums, “Fuck, shit!” Streams of clear juice leaks out in a torrent, legs trembling once again. Her whole body convulses, mouth open, you’d do anything just to see this again.

But she won’t stop just here.

“Now, your turn.” Haewon recollects herself up to a languid pace, opposite to the frantic tempo earlier. She’s definitely fucking with you now.

“Oh, my toy is frustrated because I’m not riding him fast enough?” Haewon pouts, and of course it is a sarcastic one. She doesn’t seem to let you have your pleasure yet.

“What if I–” Haewon swipes her lips with a finger, gathering a hue of coral on it. “–do this?”

Slowly, she docks the digit on your needy lips, pasting the tinge along them.

Slowly, she pushes her finger into your mouth, giving you the taste of cherry.

“Like that, you slut?”

“Yes, mommy.”

Slowly, you envelop her slender digit with a warm welcome–eyes closed, humming through the act.

Slowly, she sweeps your cavern, spreading the fruity paste everywhere, and you surely forget about how slow her tight cunt is pressing onto you right now.

“Mmmmmm,” you moan, sucking her digit. The taste only entices you more.

“Yeah, suck mommy’s finger like a bitch you are,” she says, and you just can’t deny that–her finger and the title.

Here you are, surrendered to her conquest, sucking her finger with an incomparable hunger. The submission just becomes innate now; you are so ready to give her the full control.

Without a warning, she finally ramps up her pace, slamming her wet, dainty cunt down your cock with more frenzy.

“Ah, ah, nghh, fuck, mommy~” you cry out, so lost in the haze.

“Breed me, fucking breed me.” Haewon looks up onto the ceiling as her groan fills the room. “I want to feel your seed hitting my womb, only yours.”

Thunders start to strike the ground with each thrust–bang, bang, bang. Each one has the determination to set the fire inside you alight.

“I-I think I’m cumming, mommy, a-are you sure about this?” You can feel it, the spark of it.

She huffs, “F-Fuck yeah, I want a creampie this time, boy toy.”

You start to grow greedy, despite the fear of her punishment. Still, it’s like you’d care right now, with any of her so-called disciplinary actions only pushing you towards the edge. You pump your cock upwards to match her slams.

“Hmm~, putting in some work too?” Haewon bends down to ruffle your hair, pouting. “So adorable for mommy~.”

Again, she captures you with her lips, every moan, every whimper, every cry is contained within the connection. You can feel it, the little fires everywhere. It’s only a matter of time until it merges into a raging inferno.

“M-Mommy~.”

And it burns, deep into her womb. Your cock paints ropes and ropes of essence within her needy cunt, as you scream deep into her lungs. The blaze consumes both of you, still fighting with your tongues. Your hips jerk with each shot, “Ngh, ngh, ngh,” and your back becomes an arch.

Eventually, the fire is gone, only the remnants of the burns left. Haewon pants against you as you do so, foreheads touching, smiling.

“You’re just fucking fun to use, you know that?” she says, before latching onto your quivering lips.

Long gone, the ardor buried within you two, replaced by something else, something you can’t quite pinpoint. Haewon kisses you, and you kiss her back with the remaining passion for her that’s left inside you.

Finally, she pulls back from you, a string of saliva connects you two in the separation. She’s smiling.

“I love being your little boy toy too, Haewon,” you say, she laughs. Before she gets down from the ride, lying next to you. Your cum leaks out of her cunt onto the bedsheets.

“Wanna do this again?” Haewon asks.

“Definitely, maybe.”

“Maybe?” Haewon furrows her brows, getting up to look you in the eye. “I fucking dicked you down until you moaned like that and you say ‘maybe’?”

You chuckle with the statement, before turning your back to her, “Cuddle me please, mommy.”

“Sure.” Haewon says, smiling, as she lies down again, hugging your frame from behind, ready to go through this nocturne together.

—

#haewon #haewon smut #nmixx #nmixx smut #nmixx haewon #nmixx haewon smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #male reader #male reader smut

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psychotrenny · 1 month

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It's comical how obsessed radfems and adjacent reactionaries get with mystifying the human body, with certain parts in particular receiving a great deal of metaphysical weight. The phallus is a classic example of this; beyond its physical nature as a body part they have a very strongly held set of ideas around what it is on a spiritual level and get rather upset when these ideas do not quite align with material reality. Like you'll consistently see them get actually mad about basic facts like "The Penis and Clitoris are Homologous tissues" or "It is possible to commit sexual violence without using a dick".

Mind you these sorts of attitudes and tendencies are not unique to radfems but rather widespread in broader society; the most obvious way that radfems are indeed reactionary is that they base their ideology on an acceptance of patriarchal assumptions about gender and gender relations (just with a slightly different set of judgements and conclusions) rather than an outright rejection of them. But radfems give some assumptions much greater emphasis then they have in general society, taking them to an even more obviously ridiculous extreme. And while these sorts of fixations can be worth analysing for what they reveal about not just radfem ideology specifically but the society that spawned them, a lot of the time the best thing to do is laugh. Like some of the shit you'll see them say about the human body like it's not just incredibly wrong; it's incredibly silly

#stella speaks

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artificial-transmutations · 6 months

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Insatiable

"You want... dick?"

Oh God, finally! It had been the most stressful and embarrassing fifteen minutes for Derek, but apparently, the old (and somewhat creepy) lady on the other side of the desk finally got what he meant.

"Yes! Dick, cock, penis, that's what I want. For my boyfriend." he added.

Communication has been... Difficult to say the least. Derek would normally never set food into a store like this. The small room was cramped with various utensils Derek couldn't even name. There was a stuffed alligator hanging from the ceiling, and a row of dusty jars was standing on a shelf right next to his ear. Derek was sure they contained old and wrinkly apples, mainly because he didn't want to think about what could be in them if it weren't apples.

However, as creepy as this place was, some of his friends had recommended it highly, because the owner of the store apparently could produce an aphrodisiac that put the blue pill to shame. Even if she looked like the embodiment of a voodoo lady, that was.

However, explaining what he wanted and that he wanted it for his boyfriend had been more than difficult. The old lady seemed to be hard of hearing *and* had a hard time grasping the concept of a gay couple. But, apparently, finally it clicked.

The lady shrugged her shoulders which made her large earrings shake.

"OK. Dick for boyfriend." she shrugged again, but began to gather... Something... From her drawers.

"I need..." she began, but Derek interrupted her.

"Some of his hair, yes." That part was clear to Derek since all his friends who recommended the place mentioned. It was probably just for show, but apparently, some hair was a required ingredient.

The old lady nodded and took the small plastic bag with Sean's hair that Derek had brought.

He was surprised when he saw her kneading a soft wax like mass with her bony fingers. Wasn't she supposed to prepare some pills or potion?

He was yanked back to reality by a short tug on his scalp though. The voodoo lady had ripped off some of his own hair, too.

"Ouch! What was that for?" he asked, although it hardly hurt.

"Need hair both" was the only answer he received.

Fascinatedly, Derek watched as the old lady formed a small humanoid doll from the substance. Of course. A voodoo doll. So much for any real surprise for Sean's birthday. Well, at least it was an original joke gift.

The wax figure was unmistakably male. On the one hand, it was obvious from the V-shaped body, the flat chest and the muscular frame that was emerging, but, most importantly because of the other detail the old lady included: the doll was very much anatomically correct, as it sported a large, erect phallus, proudly emerging from its loins. When she was satisfied, she carefully took out Sean's hair and dotted it on the small doll. Derek watched her put it on the dolls head, its chest and even under the figures arms.

Derek's hair, however, went to the pubic area and was used to form a large bush around the phallus. She even massaged some of the hairs into the rod itself.

When she was finished, she took a short look at the doll and quickly dipped it into a cauldron holding an ominous slimy liquid.

"Here, finished. It's 10 dollars."

"Ookay..." Derek began. "And how does it work exactly?"

"It just works. Trust. It's 10 dollars." was the only answer he got.

Derek shrugged and paid the old lady before taking the wet doll. Careful not to get the liquid on his clothes, he thanked her and left the building.

He drove home, a smile on his lips. Hopefully, his boyfriend would like the joke gift.

***

"What is that?", Sean asked curiously, as he eyed the little figure.

"Isn't that obvious?" Derek laughed. "It's a voodoo doll, and it's supposed to improve our sex life."

Sean raised an eyebrow. "Do you think our sex life needs improving?" he asked his boyfriend in an amused voice.

Before Derek could answer though, he laughed and said: "Thanks, honey". He kissed his boyfriend, and what was originally planned to be a quick peck on the lips turned into a long and sensual kiss involving tongue and roaming hands.

They both panted when they eventually separated.

"I can already see a positive effect.", Sean remarked. "Do you want to take it to the bedroom and help me with that?" he grinned and gestured towards a small but noticeable bulge in his pants.

Derek gulped. "Yeah." he replied.

They hurried to the bedroom, where their clothes came off in a hurry.

Sean was unusually active. Normally, he was a pretty passive bottom, which worked well for Derek, since he had the bigger dick and liked to top more. However, today, after some making out, Sean whispered:

"Let's try something new."

Sean's hand, which had traveled to Derek's ass left little room for interpretation on what he meant. He nodded. If Sean wanted to top, and on his birthday of all days, who was he to disagree?

They moved around, so Derek was on all fours and Sean positioned himself behind him. Derek closed his eyes in anticipation, feeling the cool air on his ass, the bed slightly dipping, and Sean's hot breath.

"I can't wait to get inside you." Sean breathed.

The next thing Derek felt was something hard, wet and hot against his asshole.

His eyes shot open.

"Is that your tongue?"

Sean hummed. "Yeah, and it tastes great."

He proceeded to lick Derek's butthole, occasionally even penetrating it with the tip of his tongue. Then, finally, Sean removed his tongue and left the stage open for his very erect cock.

Derek had expected him to use lube, but instead, he heard his boyfriend spit and felt a hot liquid hit his butthole. He didn't complain though. This was new, exciting, and he really wanted to see where this would lead. Besides, Sean's cock was small enough to not hurt much either way.

And, true enough, he slid into Derek with little to no resistance.

"You like that?", Sean grunted, and Derek could only moan in response.

Slowly at first, then faster and faster, Sean was fucking Derek. Horny as they both were, it didn't take them too long to simultaneously cry out in ecstasy, as Sean pumped his seed into Derek's ass.

As they were both lying on the bed, panting and recovering, neither of them noticed at first that some subtle changes crept over their bodies. Where Sean was growing a bit bigger overall, both in height as well as in mass, Derek shrunk.

At first it seemed that he was losing stature in the same amount that Sean was gaining - however, that quickly proved not to be the case: After a few moments, Derek had lost a good 25 centimeters of height and was overall thinner and leaner than before.

Sean, on the other hand, was somewhat more muscular and had gained about 5 centimeters in height, putting him at about 1,80 meters now. His changes would have been way less noticeable had it not been for another growth: On both his chest and under his armpits, a patch of dense black and curly hair had begun to sprout.

One thing however had not changed: The size of their slowly softening dicks. However, with their new body sizes, Derek's cock looked even bigger and Sean's even smaller than before.

They were both still catching their breath when Derek was the first to notice the change.

"What the-", he exclaimed. He sat up, looking at his body.

"What is it?" asked Sean, also sitting up. "Woha. Have you shrunk?"

Derek looked at him, confused and slightly worried.

"What? No! You have gotten bigger."

Sean frowned. "Really? I feel like I have grown a bit, but I think you have become a bit smaller."

Sean stood up and gestured his boyfriend to do the same. Really, while the perspective was a bit off for Sean, it was completely different for Derek. His eye level was about at shoulder-height of Sean now and he had to look up to see his face.

"I am shorter." he remarked, dumbfounded.

Sean shook his head. "But that's impossible."

"It is." Derek confirmed. "And why the hell do you have hair under your arms, too?"

Sean shrugged, confused, but then he looked down his own body.

"It's not just there! Man, my body feels *weird*. It's like it's not even my own."

"Tell me about it", said Derek with a grimace. "I feel like a dwarf!"

"Awww." Smiled Sean. "But if it's any consolation: You are a very sexy dwarf. You have such a cute ass." As if to make a point, he slapped Derek's behind lightly.

"Yeah, well, I have noticed your newfound interest in that area." Derek commented dryly.

"Hey, it's not like you can complain!"

Sean readjusted his dick, which hadn't returned to a fully flaccid state with all the talk about asses. It was true, though: Derek was really cute that way.

Derek meanwhile slapped his forehead. "Of course. It must be that voodoo doll. Let me phone the shop!"

"You mean like real magic?" Sean said but Derek was already dialing his phone. After a few seconds, however, he hung up.

"Damn, they're closed for the day already. I'll have to try tomorrow."

"Well, I guess there are worse things than being short for a day. Hey, how about we watch a movie and eat some pizza tonight, and tomorrow, you can go to that store first thing in the morning."

Derek broke into a smile. Sean was right of course. It wasn't like anything catastrophic had happened. Still, the implications, with voodoo magic being real and all that were a lot to think about it. But that could wait until tomorrow.

"Sure! It's your birthday after all!"

They put on some clothes and went to prepare pizza together. Their body sizes were becoming pretty obvious when they settled on the couch after dinner. Of course, their usual snuggling positions didn't quite work out and they had to arrange differently. Finally, they settled with Derek's head on Sean's lap, who took quite a bit more space on the sofa now.

This position allowed Derek to notice at once when, around after half the movie, certain parts of Sean stirred under his head.

"Are you seriously getting a boner from me watching a movie?"

Sean grinned. "Sorry. You just feel so nice down there."

Derek rolled his eyes.

"You know, I can feel a boner poking against the back of my head, too."

"Hey, it's not my fault when you look so cute!" Sean smiled and stroked Derek's hair.

"Well, the voodoo lady did say that the doll was supposed to increase our sex drive. I guess that part works. We can still watch the movie if you want."

"Actually..." Sean began, and Derek could feel Sean's dick quickly getting harder. "... I have a different idea."

Sean pulled his pants down a little, just enough to free his cock.

"Would you give me a blowjob?"

"Sure." replied Derek. It had been a while since they had switched things up, so he was more than willing to go with it.

Sean shifted, giving his boyfriend better access, and Derek scooted lower. He grabbed the shaft and gave it a few tentative licks, before starting to suck in earnest.

While Derek was busy working on Sean's dick, his own was straining his pants, and he opened them to jerk off. However, after some minutes of enjoying the sensation, Sean pushed back Derek's head.

"Enough with your mouth." he said, with his voice coarse from arousal. "I want that ass."

Derek didn't object. He stood up and let his pants and underwear drop.

"Wait a second. Let me get some lube."

"No need." replied Sean and Derek could see that he was right. Sean's cock was still wet from his blowjob and from the precum that was spilling out of the tip. With one hand, he spread his ass cheeks.

"Do it. Do me."

Sean didn't have to be told twice. He stood up and, after some brief repositioning, pushed his cock into his boyfriend's waiting hole.

"Oh God! You're even tighter than before!" he moaned, as he began to push into his boyfriend.

Derek couldn't answer from the onslaught of sensation, but Sean was right. It felt like Sean's cock filled him up like never before. Derek almost came from the sensation of Sean entering him alone.

When Sean began pumping, slow at first but quickly picking up pace, Derek was lost in ecstasy. All he could feel was his boyfriends cock inside of him, filling him from behind and rocking his world. At some point, he came all over the couch, but he didn't stop, because Sean didn't stop. He jerked his own cock more and more, riding the waves of his orgasm while his boyfriend kept plowing his ass.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity, Sean's thrusts became faster, erratic. With one last push, he buried his cock in Derek's ass and spilled his load.

Both men saw stars after that and were busy catching their breath, when, again, a change washed over them. This time, Derek noticed as the world around him became bigger quickly.

"Wha... It's happening again!" he cried out, alerting Sean to the fact, too.

Sean watched as Derek got smaller... and *smaller*, still impaled on Sean's dick. His shrinking only stopped when he was about 50 centimeters in height, barely half a meter tall.

"Did... it stop?" Derek asked, with his voice somewhat higher and fainter than before. Sean's voice, on the other hand, sounded deeper and resonated louder when he answered:

"Seems that way. Wow, what a shock. Let's get you off of me, first."

Sean tried to lift Derek up from his lap but found himself unable to. Sean's dick was firmly lodged into Derek's ass now and no matter how hard he pulled, Derek wouldn't come off. in fact, when he felt the hairy root of his cock, he couldn't even find a gap between it and Derek's ass cheeks, so tight was the connection. It was like Derek was glued or welded to his groin.

"Oh my god." exclaimed Derek, when he noticed the same thing. "I'm stuck!"

"What should we do?" asked Sean.

"What *can* we do?" asked Derek, with clear panic in his voice.

"Okay, okay. Calm down. We're still good, right? Everyone is alive, nothing to worry about. Tomorrow, we will go to that shop and have this sorted out."

"You're right." sighed Derek, who was still trying to free himself. "It's not like I'm hurting or anything. This is just weird. And uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable? What's wrong?"

"Everything." answered Derek, who had given up struggling. "The position, for starters. My feet aren't touching the ground."

"Oh." replied Sean. There was nothing else he could think of.

"It's not... *that* bad though", Derek continued. "It does kinda feel good to be this close. Like snuggling."

"Like snuggling?" asked Sean.

"Like really *close* snuggling. And you're pretty big right now, so I feel really secure."

Sean smiled, apparently having been successful in calming his boyfriend. He secretly had to admit that the situation was pretty exciting for him, but he didn't want to show it. Instead, he secured the small Derek with his arms and walked to the bathroom. It felt like carrying a small backpack in front of his body.

"Let's get cleaned up, okay?"

They did just that. Derek found that he could stabilize himself pretty well on Sean's body. And they both noticed that Sean, too had grown again. Now measuring about 1,90 meters and being covered by a considerate amount of body hair was certainly something else, but it paled in comparison to having his half-a-meter-boyfriend attached to his groin.

Not knowing what else to do afterwards, they went to bed. Sean carefully climbed on the mattress, making sure not to jostle his tiny partner too much. He positioned himself and put the blanket over him, with Derek safely secured underneath.

"Is everything okay?", Sean asked.

Derek was covered by the blanket completely but actually felt good. It was the safest feeling he had had for a very long time.

"Actually, yeah. I guess. Good night, honey."

"Good night, Derek."

After a few moments, Derek could hear Sean snoring and shortly after, he, too drifted off to sleep.

It was morning, when Derek awoke to a strange sensation. He felt really stiff, his back was straight, and he was feeling... horny. Of course, Derek had felt horny before, but this was no comparison. It was like "horny" flooded his whole system, from head to toe.

His mouth tasted like yesterday's blowjob... again. The salty taste of precum was on his tongue and his lips were tingling. He couldn't remember ever having felt that horny before, his whole body was just buzzing.

"Are you awake?" Sean's voice, deep and rumbling, startled him.

"Huh?", was his only reaction.

"Are you awake?" repeated Sean. "I'm horny as fuck."

"Uh, me, too." answered Derek, slowly regaining control of his voice. "Do you wanna..."

"Yes. Oh yes. Perhaps if I push you up and down my cock, we can..."

"Worth a shot." Derek confirmed.

Sean did just that. He gripped Derek under his shoulders, making sure that his small hands were not crushed, and slowly began lifting him. As before, Derek's ass was still firmly attached to Sean's groin, but the tugging sensation was enough for both of them to produce a deep and needy moan.

However, as Sean pushed Derek back and began to pull again, Derek interrupted:

"Wait! What if... we change more?"

Even though it took a considerable amount of will from Sean, he stopped for a moment. Derek was right, he knew that. But the urge was just too strong.

"Yes..." he half-moaned. "...but I need this."

"Sean, what..." Derek began, but Sean had started to tug Derek's smaller body again, and the rest of his sentence was swallowed by a needy moan from Derek as well. Fuck it, how much worse could it get?

As Sean moved his hands up and down Derek's body, he could feel more changes setting in sooner. The taste of precum in his mouth intensified and Derek found himself drooling up liquid that tasted like it as well. It ran down his body, which was, again, changing.

Derek's arms and legs shrunk into his body fast, faster even than the rest of his body, which was also getting smaller again. It was mainly frustrating for Derek since he couldn't reach his cock anymore, as his extremities got absorbed into his more and more cylindrical body.

Sean's movements changed once Derek's arms were out of the way. No longer was he tugging the much, much smaller man up and down, but instead he closed both of his arms around Derek's torso and started *rubbing* them up and down.

The feeling was incredible. Derek found himself drooling more and more, coating his whole smaller body with precum. As Sean pumped his hands up and down Derek's body, wet sounds emerged, just as if he was pumping a well-lubed cock.

The motions quickly became quicker and quicker, Sean's breathing heavier and heavier. Derek's breathing however stopped entirely, as his inner organs changed into the only thing that was important: the various veins and glands that made up a cock. His own cock and balls disappeared into his body as well - not that he needed them anymore. He didn't need a cock, he was *becoming* a cock. A large and hefty tube of flesh, firmly attached to manly Sean, who was grunting now, close to release.

Derek could feel a pressure starting deep within him, and, as his head changed into Sean's cock head, he *exploded* with his cum, spewing it from the slit that had been his mouth just a few minutes before to everywhere in the room.

***

Of course, the voodoo shop was nowhere to be found - or so Sean claimed. Derek had remained somewhat sentient, but unable to express himself other than through twitching and getting stiff. Sean was a man who had a cock with a mind of his own - literally. The new and enormous cock meat he called his own now was quickly becoming the center of his world. Not only had his cock a mind of his own, Sean was also more and more thinking with his cock. He was positively addicted to getting off and his libido surpassed that of the two men become one.

It didn't take long until Sean lost his job due to the fact that he just couldn't stop masturbating long enough to squeeze in eight hours of work. His environment degraded around him into a cheap and dirty flat. But all of that was hardly important. Sean was a stud of a man with a cock to match. And he knew how to use his equipment all too well. He was quickly getting known as the insatiable top, who sometimes brought home two or three guys at the same time. When he was not busy breeding some bottom, he mainly spent his time watching porn or idly playing with himself. One thing was certain: Derek had certainly got a lot of action for his money.

Time for a good old cock tf! This one is a bit more involuntary and a bit more focused on the actual transformation than my series Closer Than Flesh, which focused more on the story of *being* cockmeat. I'm sure I wouldn't mind either way!

Do you have any transformation you would want to see written? Don't hesitate to message me!

#male transformation #muscle transformation #inanimate transformation #cock tf #hairy

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fillinforlater · 11 months

Note

You walking on them like this what would you do 😳😏

Always Caught

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin, Jang Wonyoung

Length: 1675 words

Tags: getting caught, voyeurism (Wony), threesome, cuckold (Yujin), best boyfriend (you), standing sex, rough sex, fondling, fingering

"Sometimes, forbidden things are the most tempting, yeah."

"U-unnie!"

The dice have fallen, the trap is activated, Wonyoung can't move. There's a large smirk on your face, wicked, like Yujin's arms and legs that press Wonyoung to the wall she was just using to eavesdrop. Eavesdrop on who if not her roommate and her boyfriend making love, loudly, lusty, without a care for who might here.

"I knew what you are doing, always have," you get into the conversation and closer to the two entangled girls. It's somewhat cute, seeing Wonyoung fight back, freeing herself, just to surrender her hand back to the world for Yujin to breathe into her ear again. "Yujin was surprised why you didn't complain, but I knew that you had your ear right here.

"You even moved the closet a bit to the left so you can be closer to our bed. Do you like the sounds of it creaking that much?"

"Or is it the moans that get you all giddy?" Yujin huffs and grabs Wonyoung's hips like she's done it a thousand times before. The younger woman melts into the grip like her features melt in embarrassment. From ear to ear, even her cute little nose carrying her loser-glasses, is flushed red.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Wonyoung rebuttals, pathetically weak, her arousal in the air like a stench confirming her bad thoughts and the sinful intentions she was ready to act upon. You know just the thing to break her.

"Oh, then what is this?" Pull out the vibrator from the closet your girlfriend was just hiding in. A short, pink phallus, pointier than a cock and with a wide array of settings that you've used to make Yujin weak during some college reading.

"Th-that's not mine. Yujin-unnie, tell your boyfriend that—"

"You're a voyeuristic slut who likes to listen to their friends fuck? He figured this out himself."

Wonyoung tries to bury her face behind her long fingers, but you reach for her hands and instead stare her down, the amused face of Yujin behind her spurring you on to finish off your crazy plan. You lean in close and mimic Wonyoung by laying your ear on the wall as well.

"Do you hear that? These sweet moans, the groans, how the bed shakes, how the wooden frame creaks, how skin slaps on skin?

"It's a recording, Wonyoung. An audio, a video even, of us fucking each others brains out."

"Do you want to see it~?" Yujin teases Wonyoung and rubs her cheeks from behind while the younger can't help but stare into your horny eyes.

"We can give it to you if you want. An exclusive video, for free.

"Or you can get the full experience. Right. Fucking. Now."

Yujin’s and your hand meet at the spot where Wonyoung’s thong is starting to soak up wetness like a well-used sponge. The two of you agreed on the if and when you wanted to make your move on the young roommate, but not on the how. Yujin wanted to get rid of her skirt, you wanted to hike it up and have it rock back and forth when you rock your rock hard cock into her pussy eventually. Now you and your girlfriend fight for who gets to rub said pussy, the lips, the clit, the entrance—Wonyoung is totally oblivious to it.

“Hng, f-fuck, you caught me,” she exclaims, butt pressed against Yujin’s crotch. Her knees are like butter, making her become smaller than both her friends who take their differences aside to focus on different parts of her holy place. You insert a finger, the long middle one, into Wonyoung’s pussy while Yujin gets to work at the hard nub above. She fiddles it side to side, the same way she does it to herself.

“We always do,” Yujin whispers and initiates a french kiss with you that has the already mewling Wonyoung dazed, dazed at what was fantasy mere minutes before and is now reality: both her hot friends getting at it with her in between, no wall separating her. “Stick out your tongue if you want any of that.”

Wonyoung, the drop dead gorgeous super star in the Uni, who’d be the number one pick in a draft titled ‘Who I would like to fuck the most’ by seventy percent of attendees and profs, looks like a femcel loser with her tilted glasses and stretched out tongue, waiting for some of your and Yujin’s drool to hit it. She’s lucky when something falls, when you decide to integrate her into the kiss and simultaneously ‘integrate’ another finger in her cunt to stretch the rippling hole open.

You and Yujin toy with Wonyoung’s motionless tongue, she sucks it out and stretches it, you bully it back inside and watch it fall out again. Limp is the tongue, limp is her body, but before she falls over, Yujin stabilizes her roommate at the wall. No more stimulation, just two pairs of eyes staring her down. Wonyoung wants to hide the embarrassing arousal flushed all over her fuckable, thin body, but she is exposed to your mercy once more.

“You want his cock?” Yujin asks nonchalantly, Wonyoung carefully nods, the fear of falling into another trap smaller than the pleasure she’s offered. “Why do you think I’d give him to you? He is my boyfriend, his cock is mine, you have no idea how snug I am around it. Why should I give it to you, slut?”

“P-please, Unnie.”

Yujin sighs the fakest sigh since the latest YouTuber apology-video. She fishes out your cock with a single hand and places a finger on Wonyoung’s luscious, drool-glazed lips. “Fine. Say ‘thank you, Unnie~’.”

“Thank you, Unnie.”

Your hands find Wonyoung’s smooth, spotless thighs and dig into them like they are sand concealing a treasure. Yujin joins said hunt for jewelry and helps you lift up the light Wonyoung to prepare your diamond-like cock, ready to drill deep. The way you spear Wonyoung’s labia open is a bit reckless, sure, but you have no other option. It radiates heat and need and Wonyoung is the one to vocalize it by lifting her skirt up for you to see.

“I-I want more,” she stammers when your tip has her innie spread already. “I can take it just as well as Yujin-unnie.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Yujin warns her roommate, biting her lower lip nonetheless when you give Wonyoung all of your dick. There are no more spoken words, just moans and thrusts as your animalistic tendencies overhauls all previous reservations you had about this. Tonight, Wonyoung’s pussy has your focus, in fact, her entire lower body makes you want to take endless pictures of it.

But no recording, not even a world class painting can depict the beauty of her small belly bulging with every deep invasion up to her cervix. No 2k, 4k, 8k video could ever show just how brilliantly her legs tremble in your hands, their entire length stiffening, then shuttering just because there’s a stiff appendage in her cunt. For whatever reason, you all but forget Yujin, who is literally behind the girl you are fucking, helping you carry her, watching closely—

“Yes, fuck that little bitch, that little slutty pussy!”

She announces herself. A well-placed pull on Wonyoung’s blouse and Yujin sends a button or two flying to reveal an exposed, heaving chest with sweat running in between the small, perky bumps. Yujin digs into them and into Wonyoung’s mouth; now you have to gather all your reserves to keep Wonyoung up on your own. Either way you’re good and continue to fuck into her addictive cunt.

“I wanted this for so long,” Yujin screams while Wonyoung screams while you’re about to scream, seeing your girlfriend finger both a stiff nipple and a gaping mouth. Wonyoung’s tongue must be a fun plaything. “I always wanted him to fuck you, fuck, I would have been okay with him cheating on me if only I got to hear him pound you.

“But now, I don’t want to let go of you. I understand why they all are mad about fucking you.”

Yujin’s feverish confession has your mouth dry. Time to stock up on saliva by going straight for her unsuspecting mouth. You relish in how she tries to fight back, it feels like validation, it was the right call to be honest and tell her about Wonyoung’s constant masturbation while listening to the two of you. Now you have the total upper hand and thus press your upper body against both of theirs.

“Rub her pussy,” you order Yujin. “I need her to cum.”

“Yes, fuck, make her cum! I want her to squirt and piss everywhere and become your stupid little fuck hole!”

To say it riles you up—you’ve never felt stronger, more empowered. You give full thrusts, hard, fast, Wonyoung’s glasses almost fall off of her face and you see her irises disappear in her head as a shrill scream as you flash banged. Wonyoung’s orgasm is earth shattering, her walls rapidly wrap around you to maximum tightness. You have to act quickly.

“Where should I—Yujin, where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside her. Inside her pussy!” Yujin grits her teeth. One of Wonyoung’s hands has found its way into her freshly cut hair and this look of determination, pain and unbridled lust has you certain that you’ll finish in a second. A second is three pumps but you fill Wonyoung with a lot more than that. Her pussy is a creamy mess and before you come back to your senses, Yujin is already eating your load out of Wonyoung.

“That poor girl is so overstimulated,” you tell your girlfriend, a weak smile on your face.

“No, no!” Wonyoung complains, arms wrapped around your neck. “I-I, please, catch me again, I want this.”

It must have been at least a hundred times that Wony has masturbated to the thought of you. Time she repays it a hundred times as well.

(A/N: a different take on this scene here)

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert #izone smut #male reader #male reader smut #ive smut #wonyoung smut #ahn yujin smut #yujin smut #ive yujin smut

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johnbrand · 3 months

Text

Call of Duty: Next Potential Chief

With @mrrharper

Inspired by nothing but boredom, Craig booted up his older brother’s console. If he found out that Craig was touching his stuff, his brother would have easily put him in the hospital. The two often fought, being on either end of the masculine spectrum. Craig, the liberal, more effeminate gay, had nothing in common with his conservative, ultra macho douchebag of a brother. Their fights were more or less his older brother shouting slurs at him for being girly, “a pussy” and “a fag," before landing numerous kicks and punches.

The home screen of the console displayed an array of games, most of which were the standard first person shooters. One however caught the short, slim boy’s eyes: Call of Duty: New Potential Chief. He was unfamiliar with any of the COD titles, but this one appeared to be new. At least, that’s what the small “NEW” banner above the icon hinted at. Intrigued, Craig decided to engage, opening the application. It took a while for the game to load, but eventually he was brought to the main menu.

Complete the Entry Campaign before joining online.

Craig assumed that was reasonable; he would have to endure a tutorial if he wanted to play the game properly. As soon as his finger accepted the prompt, a piercing electric shock paralyzed his entire body. Frozen, Craig now sat completely still as the screen continued forward, ready to engage its program.

Entry Campaign activated, downloading Physicality package…

The screen in front of Craig began to display multiple bars with different characteristics.

HEIGHT - 68/77 Units

WEIGHT - 152/200 Units

ADIPOSE TISSUE - 16/15%

MUSCULATURE - 23/85%

FEET - 8/15 Units

PHALLUS - 5/9 Units

The standardized inputs confused Craig at first, who although unable to move, still held some consciousness to the situation around him. After the first bones began to crack however, he began to understand the situation a bit more. Fearfully, Craig desperately attempted to move any portion of his body while tendons and ligaments shifted and expanded. As his HEIGHT bar slowly ticked further, Craig could literally hear himself stretching larger and larger, eventually reaching a height of 6’5.

Craig began to plead internally for escape as his muscles proceeded to bloat. His lanky body was quickly evolving, broadening with power. His calves and upper arms swelled, thickening with strength and testosterone. His quads widened, bolstering incredible durability along with his newly-prominent muscle gut. Craig’s seat expanded beneath him, plumping while his hardware opposite upgraded into a juicy 9 inches. Although still paralyzed, Craig’s legs were forcibly separated to accommodate the masculinized bundle, his soles inflating into obscenely large monsters.

Physicality package downloaded. Installing required MASCULINITY data points…

VOCAL HEIGHT - C5/D#4

VOCAL DEPTH - C#3/D2

FACIAL SHAPE - J

FACIAL HAIR - 2/61%

STRENGTH - 21/85%

AGGRESSION - 14/95%

Craig’s head naturally arched back as an emerging Adam’s apple distended from his neck, his vocal chords sculpting an uncommonly deep bass. His jaw was restructured as it jutted forward, stretching his nose and accentuating his brow along with it. A beard quickly grew in to cover the squaring shape, with dark hair flowing through Craig’s pits, down the sternum, across his crotch, and along his arms and legs.

Still fighting for release, Craig felt his inward ambition grow stronger, more offensive. In his mind, he had begun cursing the game, swearing to do unholy things to it and its creator once freed. His language and manner became cruder, brasher, and brutish–akin to his older brother’s demeanor that he had typically admonished. Craig's less analytical behavior distracted him from the the final set of downloads that were being made.

Finalizing Subordination supplements…

INTELLIGENCE QUOTIENT - 145/60 Units

INTERPRETATIVE ANALYSIS - 97/10%

EXECUTIVE SUBORDINATION - 0/100%

Initializing GAMEPLAY package, uploading TF4971-Wolf onto virtual network…

Without realization, Craig’s protests slowly became weaker and less deliberate. His specific remarks began to loosen, his targeted opinions evaporating as the progress bars ticked towards their end quotients. While his aggressive demeanor remained, Craig gradually lost the language he wished to use. Eventually, even his reasoning was wiped away, diluting his directed anger into simplistic barbarism.

Once his numbers matched the game’s standards, Craig’s brain was completely devoid of any independent thought. His head was cluttered with only the required media truly necessary. Images of loyal men, bulky men, masculine men in specific uniforms established only one precedent. Instructions on how to shoot, when to shoot, and who to shoot became his only scripture. His mind absorbed the gameplay, understanding its commands.

Now unable to process anything but the mission, TF4971-Wolf did not comprehend his teleportation into an online match in the game. He stood at one end of a battleground, surrounded by other men with the same objective. They all wore the same camo utility pants, thick jackets, and beige caps. They held the rifles they were all programmed to easily operate.

TF4971-Wolf did not question who he was, where he was, or even why he was as he proceeded towards the battleground. He was nothing more than a strong, masculine soldier NPC with permanent instructions to follow the COD programming and win the next match.

#gay to straight #male tf #male transformation #enforcement tf #dumbification #unintended results

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slightly-knot-insane · 6 days

Note

waaahh omg hi!!!! could I maybe get an eldritch sea monster that just loves his little diver he found? (he totally didn’t kidnap you from the rear of your team…) mayyybbee with some breeding/eggpreg? frothing at the mouth

Underwater sexy time finally finished! Thank you for the request! It's a bit longer since I wanted to add this because you liked it ^^

[ m!sea monster x ftm!reader ]

It was meant to be just a simple skinny-dip with your friends. Then you saw a beautiful bluish purple light underwater. It was so pretty you just had to see what it was! Foolishly, you walked into the sea, deeper and deeper, until the water reached your shoulders and then - something grabbed your ankle and pulled you under.

And now you're here, in this cave, surrounded by wet stone, and a water pool at your feet... With a large monster peeking from it. It has something resembling a face with mouth and multiple set of eyes. It doesn't speak to you, but it brought you a strange fish to eat, and fresh water to drink. The raw meal is rather nourishing, and you are not hurt, so you relax a little bit.

While you eat, the creature completely exits the pool and slides next to you. Ethereal bioluminescence decorates its translucent skin. Frills, tentacles and spines grow out of its body. It is both scary and fascinating. It doesn't do anything else aside from watching you, and any attempts to speak to it are met with silence and curious tilts of its slightly humanoid head. It doesn't seem to like the air very much. It starts heaving after barely fifteen minutes next to you and then quickly enters the water for, what you assume, a dose of oxygen.

After a few minutes alone, the creature exits the pool and, this time, gets even closer to you. It touches you and is surprisingly gentle. The being also insists on you touching it - it pulls your hand toward its massive body. You obey and glide your palm over its smooth and slick skin. Your nerves barely register touch - that's how polished and silky the creature is.

With a tremble of its tentacles, it pushes you on the ground, its eyes fixated on yours. The monster is heavy and you can't move, so you just squeal in panic. It slides and moves upward, arching over your entire body. It holds you by your shoulders firmly against the rocky floor. You are presented with two penises, swollen and pulsating in bioluminescent purple light.

"Whoa, slow—" but your words are cut short. One of the penises dives into your mouth, and the other one eagerly rubs against your chest and neck. It is oozing some strange liquid and soon you're covered with lubricant sort of substance. Penises are very flexible and mobile, and the one in your mouth is exploring your teeth and tongue, rubbing against your soft tissue. For some reason, you are not scared but excited. The phallus tastes peculiar but not unpleasant. The monster above you moans in a strange, guttural way and the organic lights flicker into pink shade. It moves its lower body, slowly rocking, and penises thrust and rub harder until, with a strong jolt, they spurt cold and very thick liquid onto your chest and into your mouth.

Wheezing, the monster quickly retreats into the water, leaving you soiled and sticky. You cough and yell at the creature for not preparing you, worried about the thing that you just ate. After just a few minutes, the monster is on top of you again, wet and recovered, pushing you down and shoving the upper penis into your mouth. It fucks your mouth until it climaxes again and you swallow its seed.

This is repeated many times, until your stomach is completely full of sperm and swollen. Exhausted, you fall asleep as soon as you are given a break.

You are woken up by an unpleasant feeling. You can't... breathe? It hurts when you inhale as if your lungs shrunk. You try to cough and take deep breaths, but that causes you even more pain.

"Heee... heeee... lp..." Your words are more like hisses, barely audible. You fall on your knees, tears falling down your cheeks and you feel some strange growth on your jaw. Are those... gills? Long tentacles glide around your waist and swiftly pull you underwater.

Once you're inside water, you gasp - really gasp - because you can breathe! No more pressure and sharp pain. You can breathe underwater!

The monster is in front of you. He (how do you know it's a he?) moves with grace, circling you, swimming and letting out happy clicking noises. It looks so much bigger, intimidating, but also incredibly beautiful in his element. The tentacles surround you, pull you toward him, and explore every part of your body: your hair, neck, armpits, legs, scars and gills. You are mesmerized, getting incredibly aroused by this creatures touches and wonderful lights of his skin. They slowly change from gentle blue to royal purple.

The penises are out again, but the lower one that used to be smaller is now quite longer and there is white orb at the base of it. The creature grabs you, pulls you up and the top penis prods your hole. Luckily, the creature doesn't force it. He finds your t-dick and uses one of his frilled tentacles to rub it. The sensation is incredible and you can't help it but respond. With every limb he has, he locates your erogenous zones and fondles them while carefully observing your emotions.

When you're on the edge of climax, he slowly pushes the top penis into your hole. Surrounded by water, it slides easily and deeply, and takes only few thrusts to shatter you.

While still pulsating from your orgasm, the creature takes out his cock and presents his thick and a lot longer lower one. The light changes to dark pink and he shoves his massive phallus inside you. You arch your back, pushing him away from overstimulation, but he doesn't budge. His light becomes pulsating red and you can see glowing orbs the size of your fist moving inside his shaft into your body. As they slide under your t-dick, you shake from intense pleasure and it takes only three of them to push you over the edge again. The tentacles hold you firmly in place while the monster places his eggs inside you. Soon your belly swells. It's an incredible feeling, stretched by warm objects that emit waves of pleasure through your tissue every time they shift.

So many eggs and so many orgasms after, you wake up in monsters embrace, wrapped around by his tentacles. He happily clicks as a greeting and one of his arms touches your belly. It is huge, skin stretched like a balloon and glowing in soft red light. With a joyous smile, you touch it and happily click, click, click yourself.

#tw dubcon #tw nsft #x ftm reader #monster smut #monster #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster fucker #monster fuqqer #monster x human #monster x you #monster x reader #monster x trans!reader #tentacle kink #ovi kink #smut #slightlyknotinsane #ski.doc

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brabblesblog · 8 months

Text

Ch 18: — and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee.

Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?

This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.

This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

Halsin's gift gets put to use.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

Together with Halsin’s gift there was a leatherwork harness and a bottle of oil. Ban bit her lip, holding the items in her hands as Astarion stripped off the rest of his clothing.

“I did bathe in the hope you’d be agreeable to this,” he said excitedly, tossing his underwear onto the pile with the rest of his clothes. He scanned her face, saw her nervousness, and frowned.

“We don’t have to,” Astarion ventured, “If this isn’t something you want, then just say the word.”

“Have you ever done - what am I saying? Of course you have.” Ban fidgeted. “Is this… is this something you think you might like?” she asked instead.

His ears reddened again. “Yes. It could be enjoyable, in theory, but I haven’t done it with anyone I genuinely wanted. It will be as new for me as it is for you, in the ways that matter most.”

“Then why not bring it up before?” She looked at the wooden cock on the bed. It wasn’t too large, but Halsin had made the phallus curved.

“Ban.” Another look of impatience crossed Astarion’s features. “I know you’re flustered, but think a little. When in the last, gods, year, have we had time to consider things like this? Half the time we were trying to survive out there, and the other half we-”

Another sigh. “You know.”

She nodded. Fair enough. Ban set the bottle down, picking up the cock instead. She silently threaded it through the harness, careful not to scratch the protective coating on the wood, then looked back to her husband.

“I don’t know how to do this. Don’t be disappointed if I don’t perform well.” Ban held the cock gingerly in her hands, nervousness evident in her face.

“I have enough experience for the both of us, trust me,” Astarion said, eyes softening, “And it’s you. You never have to do anything as a performance to make me feel good. You just have to be you.”

Astarion’s pulse thrummed with excitement as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching Ban peel off her clothes and step into the harness, securing it around her hips. “Grab that chair, love, and bring it here.” He gestured in front of him.

She did as asked then sat down, fidgeting a little apprehensively. They faced each other, knees touching. The bottle of oil sat beside Astarion, unstoppered and ready for use.

He drew his legs up, the soles of his feet flat on the bed, offering his backside to her. He leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows to watch her, torn between equal parts anticipation and worry.

Will she be alright, doing this for me? What if she doesn’t really want to do this-

That line of thought evaporated as firm, strong hands wrapped around each ass cheek, spreading him open.

“Pretty,” Ban crooned, her tone perfectly even. He was a perfect shade of pink, clean and begging to be fucked.

Astarion raised an eyebrow at her. “Is that all you’re going to s-”

His remark cut off in a choked moan as she leaned forward and her tongue made contact with his entrance. Her first lick was hesitant, but hearing his response gave her more courage. The next passes of her tongue were more insistent, tracing slow, drawn out circles.

“Gods, Ban. That’s wonderful, but ah- you could go faster.”

Astarion stared at Ban unblinkingly; the sight was one he thought he’d remember for the rest of eternity. His hands dug into the sheets, cock twitching in anticipation.

“I could,” she conceded, lifting her head to meet his gaze, “But do I want to?”

He looked delectable, spread open for her like this. His ears were the pinkest she’d ever seen them, his cock already beginning to moisten at the tip.

“Ban.” He glowered. “I thought you said you had no experience in this. You ought to let me lead.”

Even as the words left him he knew he was powerless. He’d do anything to feel her tongue again.

“No experience at all,” she agreed, “But when it comes to you? I’m a quick study. Now, stay still.” With that she leaned back in, tongue laving all over his entrance enthusiastically. She traced another slow, firm circle, then plunged her tongue inside.

The moan that escaped him was exquisite, high-pitched and dripping with need.

Ban smirked, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass to spread his cheeks further apart. Pressing her face flush against his entrance, she thrust her tongue in and out before retreating to lavish him with languid laps. She could feel him trying to rock his hips against her mouth, and she pulled away.

“I’m warning you, Astarion. Behave.”

He whimpered, forcing himself to still. He watched his cock throb, watched the drop of precum glint with the movement.

She resumed her ministrations, her tongue slowly spreading him open. Satisfied, she drew back.

“Perfect,” she cooed at him, “You know that, don’t you?” She reached for the bottle of oil, pouring some onto her palm.

It took him a moment to register her words; he opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a strangled gasp as her oiled finger slowly slipped inside of him.

She was enjoying exploring a new part of his body, enjoyed even more how much he was enjoying it. The tightness and gentle suction tugging on her index finger was oddly arousing. She pressed carefully on, watching him intently for signs of distress. She could see his cockhead gleaming with precum, his thighs twitching, his chest heaving. He was so responsive, so beautiful.

His eyes locked onto her face “More,” Astarion gasped out, his voice heavy with need, “Please.”

She smiled softly at him, slowly adding a second finger. She gently stretched him, moving deeper with a slow, measured pace she knew would drive him near to madness.

“Faster,” he hissed, “I’m not some godsdamned virgin-”

The fingers inside him curled, and he lost what little coherence he had left. His face went blank in shock as he realized she’d found his spot, and then the pleasure of it overtook him. He moaned so desperately it was nearly a sob. His back arched as his head fell back and his grip on the sheets tightened so suddenly he nearly tore through them.

Ban couldn’t remember a time he’d ever looked more lovely. She curled her fingers again, pleased with the sight of him writhing under her touch, his cock twitching, sweat beginning to bead on his pearlescent skin. She paused for a moment, hesitating.

“Was that okay, Astarion? Tell me what you want.”

He lifted his head to look at her, nodding fervently, not trusting himself to speak.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready. Just keep… keep doing that for now.”

She nodded, giving him a soft kiss on his inner thigh. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

A quiet whimper was his only reply.

Her fingers resumed, working him open with a gentleness that set his heart ablaze with love. It took a little longer than it could have, but he wasn’t complaining. He savored the feel of her inside him, stretching him open, making sure he was ready and not in pain. Loving him.

Astarion enjoyed her exploration with a patience he didn’t normally possess, unwilling to hurry her along, no matter how eager he was for the next step. He could feel the tenderness in her touch, her concern for his pleasure, and that was everything. He relaxed further, his tightness slowly ebbing with the overwhelming buildup of pleasure and desire.

Finally, he was so keen to be filled he couldn’t stand it.

“Ban. It’s time.”

A soft chuckle escaped Ban as she drew her fingers out, kissing his thigh again. She watched as he reached for the prestidigitation scroll Halsin had included with his gift, casting it over her while she repositioned herself. She leaned back on the chair, feeling cleaner than she had since they’d left the palace, waiting until his eyes were on her. Pouring more oil into her palms, she made a show of generously spreading the oil over the shaft of the wooden cock, eyes locked onto his.

“Come ride me then, Astarion,” she crooned, her lips curving in a teasing smile.

He got up a little clumsily, cock bobbing as he straddled her lap. She grasped his hips, guiding him while he slowly lowered himself onto her.

As he sank down, his weight pressed the base of the wooden cock harder against her; she instinctively rolled her hips up to meet him, earning his grunt of pleasure.

Astarion settled, shifting a little to get comfortable. The cock spreading him felt pleasant, the feeling of being full almost too much, but oh so welcome. He rested his hands on her shoulders, meeting her gaze. His eyes were lust-blown, curls sweat-damp and glued to his forehead.

Ban’s grip on his waist tightened, holding him firmly in place. Slowly, methodically, she began to thrust, fucking him gently.

The mewl that escaped him was completely involuntary. He wanted more, needed more, and so he began to move his hips, angling himself into her thrusts. With every movement the cock inside him hit his spot; he pleasured himself on it eagerly, rocking back and forth. His untouched cock shone, twitching, begging for stimulation, the ache only adding to his pleasure. His gliding sped up, his heart racing, his arousal slowly approaching its peak.

Ban leaned forward to press her forehead against his. She could feel his breaths as he panted, desperately chasing his release.

“Close?” she murmured, her hands moving from his waist to his thighs, massaging lightly.

He nodded, his hips rocking faster; she closed the gap between them to kiss him.

He took her hand and placed it over his chest. “Feel,” he whispered, “For you. Only you.”

As delirious with lust as he was, the love he felt for her was even more overwhelming, each emotion feeding and intensifying the other in a dizzying spiral that left him breathless.

Ban felt the frantic beating of his heart as his hips rocked again and again. His rhythm slowly became erratic, and his eyes closed.

She considered how to heighten his pleasure further, then softly caressed the head of his cock.

Astarion whined, his body writhing at the bolt of pleasure that shot through him, the sensation almost pushing him over the edge.

“Not yet,” she warned, “You’ll have to beg me for it.” She ran her finger over his tip, spreading his precum in slow circles, but doing nothing more.

She could feel him throbbing, wonderfully hard and hot against her fingers; she knew it wouldn’t be long at all.

He attempted to glare at her, but only managed a pout. He gave up, expression changing to one of wanton, desperate need.

“Please, Ban. Let me come.”

She didn’t need to be asked twice. Ban captured his lips, wrapping her hand around his neglected, aching cock.

It did, indeed, not take long at all. She stroked him a few times and he plummeted over the edge into bliss. He shivered head to toe, lips opening in a noiseless gasp; his head flew back and he arched into her. His legs spasmed; she quickly steadied him with her free hand, gently holding his back as he came undone.

She continued stroking him, milking every drop of come until it was just shy of too much and he shuddered.

When he finally opened his eyes again, she lifted her stained hand to her mouth, sucking each finger methodically, gazing at him adoringly.

“You…” Astarion shook his head. He looked down; seeing both their bodies streaked with his spend sent another shiver of satisfaction racing through him. After such an intense experience, he didn’t quite have his vocabulary back yet. Instead he gave her a quick kiss.

He slowly raised himself up off the wooden cock, gingerly taking a seat on the bed. Ban stood, removing the harness before joining him.

The moment she was in bed he pulled her close.

“Would you want something for yourself too?” he asked. He would gladly reciprocate, but he was feeling exhausted.

She shook her head, smiling softly at him. “Tonight was for you and I enjoyed giving it to you. That’s enough for me.”

He planted a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered, “It… it helped.”

He felt valued, knowing that she did this for his pleasure; that she cared enough to attempt it for him. She had been so gentle and attentive. It was exactly what he’d needed.

Ban hummed, her own eyes drifting shut. “I love you.”

As challenging as things had been, she was grateful to be here with him; to be trusted with this side of him. Being given that trust…it aided in assuaging her lingering doubts.

“I love you too,” he mumbled as he slipped into trance.

She stayed conscious for a few more moments more, her head on his chest, listening to his heart slow as he rested.

Forever, she mused, wouldn’t be so bad after all.

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rs-hawk · 19 days

Text

Healer in the Dungeon: Part Two

Cis!Male Reader x Intersex Minotaur Women and multiple women with phallic magic (a Sphinx, A Gryffin and an Elf)

Words: 3,556 (a little longer than commissioned but oh well!)

Commissioner: @Gviridian

Contains: mpreg, slight coercion, unusual phalluses, double and triple penetration, and a lot more!

Cont. of previous, Witches (non-human?) approach the Minotaur Commune to ask about how they learned Healing magic. Meeting happens in front of Healer getting a train run on him, three sisters didn't care which of them sired a daughter but each wanted a taste of him. Witches become VERY interested in making men get pregnant. Short ritual is done, Healer doesn't mind the poking and prodding of the strange women as he sits, nude, face buried in his Tauress' hefty sack. Witches conclude that, because he has literally been repeatedly saturated in powerful insemination magic, Healer has become a Universal Breeder. Witches barter for a single breeding of Healer, thanks to the shorter gestation time of the Minotaurs the next period is only 6 months away. The Commune negotiation an agreeable fare and the date is set, with a Chaperone of course. The day is arrives and Tauress bids him to be obedient and to make the Commune proud. His Chaperone enjoys a day of garden relaxation, fresh fruits, and front row seat to Healer getting used. Their Goddess had granted the Witches a temporary phallus, each different based on their personality and tastes, with the full blessing to bring a new age forward. Healer makes his Tauress proud by serving the Witches well and letting them enjoy the new pleasures. Soon he is helping unload fresh produce from the Witches while singing to his sweet daughters, and sporting a fresh ritual tattoo lower back. He genuinely is unsure what species his new daughter will be but he will be happy regardless. At this point Healer probably only wears basically Minotaur cultural jewelry and colored ribbons, having become very comfortable being nude around the women of his new life.

You were happy. Happier than you think you had ever been. You don’t know how long it had been since you first decided to stay in the dungeon with your new wife and the rest of her commune, but it had to have been at least a few years. Even with a few multiple pregnancies, and a few times you decided to use your magic to speed up the gestation process when you had reasons to worry, you still had so many daughters that you knew significant time had to have passed.

So, it was no surprise that by the time the Witches came, your loving wife and her commune were fairly proficient at the basics of Healing magic. The Witches had heard whispers of a Minotaur herd that had somehow learned of such magic that was normally out of their reach. Your wife, Pasi (named after her great grandmother, Pasiphae), was the first one to interact with the Witches. Of course, she had assumed that, like the majority of travelers in the dungeon, that they were here to finish the dungeon and get the promised loot. When instead of tearing them to shreds, she returned with them, you were confused but intrigued.

“Here he is. My husband,” Pasi’s words dripped with affection and pride as she looked down at you from where you were pinned under one of the three sisters who had recently joined the herd.

You tried to smile back up at her, but when the Minotaur woman who was holding you down slammed inside of you, your eyes rolled back in your head, distracting you. You whimpered as she used you roughly, her large hands pinning you to the rough dungeon floor. The new joins had been so eager to get their hands on you, that the sisters didn’t even take you to a nest or bed. Instead opting to breed you where you stood as soon as it was agreed they could take it upon themselves to see who would technically breed you first.

While one sister was rough with your ass, grunting and moaning as she felt you stretch around her, another suddenly plunged into your mouth. You did your best to relax your throat, especially as you did not want to embarrass your wife in front of new members or company, but you couldn’t help but gag on her. The sisters laughed before the third started stroking herself over you. When one came inside you, they switched positions. It was clear at this point that it didn’t actually matter to them who got to breed you this time. They all just wanted a turn at using the herd’s breeding toy.

Through the haze of pleasure fogging your brain, and the sound of the women using you however they pleased, you could hear your wife talking to the other three women. The Witches.

“You see, when he came here, I decided to keep him,” your wife said proudly, looking back over at you. “He is very resilient, and well versed in magic. He’s even taught the majority of the commune, as well as his daughters. They are very talented. My husband is a great teacher.”

“He is the breeder you have been boasting about?” the Sphinx asked as she examined you, her pupils turning from slit to wide circles, revealing her interest.

“Yes, and the best I have ever seen. Human men usually aren’t happy with this, but he is a natural, and such a good father and mate,” your wife was obviously pleased with even these strange women’s interest in you. Clearly she had made an excellent choice in keeping you.

The Elf woman was the first to approach you, watching the way you stretched and took the bull women. “I can smell the changes to his body. You have changed his very biology.”

“How so?” Pasi asked, chuckling softly as the sister fucking your mouth shoved herself fully inside of you, cumming so much down your throat that it extended your throat even more, and caused you to gag as you did your best not to waste a drop by swallowing.

“He has been subjected to so much insemination magic that I believe he has become a Universal breeder,” she smiled, her long, pale ears arching forward excitedly. “Of course, there are a few tests that we would have to run to be sure…”

“Do you feel up to that, little human?” your wife asked you, watching as the Minotaur in front of you slowly pulled out of your throat, letting you gasp for breath again.

“If you wish me to be, love. I would be happy to,” you rasped, your throat a bit sore after the onslaught of use without the opportunity for any kind of healing.

Pasi excused the three sisters, who seemed a little disappointed, but bid you good-bye. Of course not before promising not to take it so easy on you next time. The thought made your denied cock throb with anticipation. Once you were more or less cleaned up, Pasi instructed you to sit on your knees, and listen to the Witches. You nodded happily, feeling drool pool in your mouth and she took out her cock.

“If you promise to behave yourself, you can suck while they perform their tests,” she promised, sitting with her legs spread.

You promised over and over to behave yourself before crawling over to her, burying her cock in your throat. Your lips pressed firmly against the base, feeling her large cock all the way down your throat. It was impossible not to breathe in her musky scent, which only made your still denied cock throb even more. As if on cue, the Gryffin, who had been the most reserved until now, wrapped her dangerous talons around it. You groaned against your wife’s cock, looking up at her for approval. She smirked slightly at you, ruffling your hair affectionately. With her apparent approval, you allowed yourself to be lost in the pleasure. You rolled and bucked your hips against the Gryffin’s hand, whimpering as you quickly felt your orgasm approaching. Just as she was about to push you over the edge, she stopped.

A disappointed groan escaped your lips as you nestled your mouth more comfortably onto your wife’s cock, effectively cockwarming her with your throat. The other women, though you don’t know which ones, start spreading your legs, watching the way your cock twitches, watching how you react to fingers shoved in your now breeding hole, how much you can take before it seemed to cause you pain. What seemed to be most importantly, they ran magic through your body as they took turns fingering you, setting every nerve on fire.

“How much for one gestation?” the Sphinx asked, curling two of her fingers inside of you.

“My husband is apart of my community. He stays here,” your wife huffed, pushing your head somehow even further on her cock.

“He is a Universal Breeder. Even a human could breed him with how much insemination magic has been pumped into him. Please, it would just be one gestation. Surely we could come to some sort of agreement,” the Elf said in a kind, soothing voice. She sounded so elegant. Regal. Even you found yourself with your eyes tracking her as she walked around your side to stand next to your wife. “We would take excellent care of him, and naturally we wouldn’t expect to have him exclusively the entire time. It’s just, we are a small coven, as you can see. Our Goddess needs more followers, and children are always the best way to build such a community. Surely you of all monstresses know that.”

Your wife huffed again, her large hand keeping you in place, impossibly deep in your throat. You were doing your best not to choke or gag on her, but when she bucked up into your mouth as your tongue trailed the underside of her cock, you couldn’t help it. That seemed to make her remember that you were there, drawing her eyes back to you. After watching your eyes water, and enjoying the way your throat was constricting around her massive cock, she finally let go of your head, letting you pull yourself up just enough to be able to catch a breath.

“I suppose. He could also use a little break from the dankness of the dungeon, I’m sure,” she said after a moment before adding, “but his next daughter will be from a set of sisters. We have already decided.”

“The ones that we saw earlier?” the Elf asked, to which your wife nodded. “That is no problem at all. The time will allow for us to iron out any details, for observation, and for us to get everything for the ritual.”

“Rital?” Pasi asked, her eyebrow arching.

As the two women spoke, the Sphinx was back to fingering your ass, with the Gryffin once again stroking your cock. All of that in combination with the feeling of your wife’s cock throbbing and pulsing inside your throat made you cum, your body nearly convulsing with how long you had been being edged. Your hearing seemed fuzzy as the women talked, but before too long, your wife was scooping you up to carry you back to her bed.

You found out that after the sisters’ had their turn with you, you were promised to the Witches with your sister in law accompanying you as a chaperone. Your cock ached at the idea of her watching these strange women use and breed you. Soon enough, your stomach was once again swollen with one of the sister’s daughter, though none of you knew which one’s it was. Not that it mattered. You were all delighted to see that one of their seed had taken root.

Even by the commune’s standards, you were pampered during this pregnancy. Not only did they want to show the sisters how to treat you while you were round with their child, but they all were a little distraught at the idea of you being gone. Many kept pulling you onto their cocks, filling you as they cleaned and nosed your hair, telling you that they would look after your daughters while you were gone. Even the more selfish ones were surprisingly affectionate, bringing you to the edge over and over again before finally letting you finish as they bounced you on their cocks. Your wife was more protective of you than usual as well, almost never letting you fall asleep without being nestled firmly on her cock so she knew you couldn’t be stolen away in the night.

You were given two weeks after your last Minotaur daughter’s birth before you were whisked away. The idea of leaving your precious daughters, not to mention your wife and the rest of her herd, was heart breaking, but your wife took you aside to speak to you before you and your sister in law set off.

“You will be a good boy for me, won’t you, little human?” she purred, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Yes ma’am,” you nodded seriously, looking up at her with earnest.

“You will obey and listen to them as you would me, understand? They are going to take good care of you for the next few weeks,” she said a bit more seriously, cupping your face. Once again you nod. She snorted, her warm breath comforting on your face. After a moment, she took one of the ribbons from her hair, braiding it into yours. To your surprise, you flushed slightly at the clear display of possession. She pushed her forehead to yours. “You are mine, little human. Do not forget your place. I know you will do well for me.”

“Never, my love. I will make you proud and I will see you soon,” you beamed, excited by her praise.

With one last kiss, your sister in law took you to the edge of the dungeon. It had been a long time since you even cared to wander to this section of the dungeon. It was easy enough to find, and even easier to just walk out, but you had no need to leave. The harsh sunlight made you shield your eyes, as did your sister in law. After the moment it took for your eyes to adjust, you two set off to meet the Witches at the small farm not far from the dungeon. They had bought it for the ritual, to ensure that you would have the chance to spend time with your daughter after her birth and so if for any reason your wife had to come retrieve you, or simply wanted to check on you, she would be able to with ease. Knowing you weren’t going far helped to put your nerves to bed.

“You will have a fine time, brother in law,” your sister in law smirked as she saw you look over your shoulder towards home. “You have a great honor to be able to bring more magic to the dungeon, you know. Who would have thought that such a little human would be so useful.”

You don’t say anything, though your face does flush slightly even at her backhanded praise. Your sister in law was always eager to breed you, but she did seem a bit annoyed at times to have a human full time in the dungeon. Knowing that that wasn’t the case made a spot of pride bud in your chest.

When you arrived at the farm, the Witches greeted you eagerly. Part of you had thought that you would be bred immediately, but instead they wanted to show you around, make you comfortable. You were shown the gardens and even a small spring in the back. Your sister in law was happy to be able to do a small bit of farming and harvesting, settled in for a long show by the time the Witches felt you were ready for them.

“I hope you have come prepared with plenty of potions,” the Gryffin smirked, her predatory eyes gleaming in the bright sunlight.

“I did,” you nod hurriedly, opening the bag you carried with you. Potions and spell bundles that only needed a few words spoken to take effect. “It’s always better to be prepared.”

“Indeed,” her smirk grew, showing off her sharp teeth.

You gulped, excited but a little unnerved. You looked towards your sister in law for reassurance, who only winked at you. While you knew she would step in if you were severely hurt, you weren’t sure if she would before that. A coil of excitement and fear intertwined curled in your stomach. The three Witches laid you down on a patch of grass that had strange symbols pressed into the surrounding dirt. You were surprised when they cast off their robes, and all you saw were already dripping cunts. Naturally you knew better than to ask, but your perplexion must have showed on your face.

“We don’t have them all the time. You are our first, but our Goddess has given us a way to grow a breeding phallus,” the Elf explained as she approached you.

She straddled your face, riding your mouth. You eagerly began to lick up her slick, teasing her clit with your tongue. In seconds, her clit began to harden and lengthen. Before you realized it, she was grinding a large cock into your mouth, her heavy ballsack resting on your chin. The Sphinx took your mouth, quickly face fucking you like a wild animal, her claws tearing at the grass beside your face. You winced slightly at the barbs on her cock, and wondered how that would feel breeding and fucking you. When the Griffin had her turn, you felt as though your mouth was going to be ripped open. You barely were able to lick her before she was face fucking you, grabbing your face and shoving her entirety down your throat.

The Witches all pulled away from you, watching you catch your breath. Once again you looked at your sister in law, who was lazily munching on an apple, her hard cock already leaking at the sight of you being used. Before you could draw your eyes back to the Witches, you were already flipped onto your stomach, legs spread and pressed nearly to your chest. You felt a hot, rough tongue on your ass, prepping you for only a moment before with one thrust, the Sphinx shoved herself inside of you. There was nothing you could do but try to relax and grunt out a few healing and protection spells. She was merciless with you, cramming herself so deep inside of you that you thought you might burst.

When she came, she fell on top of you, purring so loud that it made your body vibrate. The other two Witches urged her to share, but her barbs were spread, forcing her to stay inside of you. The Elf rolled her eyes, but the Gryffin was impatient. She grabbed the back of your head, pushing her splittingly huge cock inside of you. You were immediately gagging and choking on her. She was bigger than your wife, which you didn’t think was possible. She curled her talons in your hair, slamming your head up and down. It didn’t take her long to cum down your throat, and by then, the Sphinx was able to pull aside for the Elf to push inside your ass. She was the smallest of the three, but still large compared to a human. Her cock was smooth and hot, nearly identical to a human’s in appearance. She came rather quickly as well, not even trying to touch your dripping cock.

Then the Gryffin finally bred you, her huge cock hotter than the rest, so hot you thought you might burn. You had assumed she would be more like a bird, basically being able to bred you with her cunt, but maybe this was more fun for her. Not that you had much time to think about it as she fucked every thought out of you. After they each had their turn, you lay spent on the ground, stuffed with their cum. You thought you were done. There was no way that none of their seed would take. Your head rolled to the side to look at your sister in law, who was grinning at you, slowly palming her throbbing cock at the way you were being used.

Just as your eyes closed, you felt something pressed against your lips. Instinctively, you opened your mouth only to feel the hard barbs of the Sphynx. You hoped the spells you already placed would hold. There was arguing behind you, and before you knew it, both of the other women were fucking your ass, setting a brutual pace that forced you to slam forward on the barbed cock in front of you. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt yourself being stretched impossibly wide, feeling so full you were certain they were going to rip you. Your sister in law even said something, but none of the women using you stopped. The Sphinx at least pulled out for a moment to pour a potion down your throat, but that was quickly chased by her cock.

You gagged and groaned as the three women used you like a toy, stretching you to the point that you lost count of how many times they made you cum. When the Sphinx came down your throat, you winched at the feeling of her barbs scratching your mouth and throat, locking you in place. She purred, kneading the grass beside you as she rocked into your mouth gently now, basically rutting you. The Elf came in your ass first, pulling out to let the Griffin fuck you so roughly and deep that you felt like your brain was melting. Finally the three women seemed to have gotten their fill.

When their cocks dissipated, you cleaned their cunts with your tongue. In turn, they all helped clean and soothe you, rubbing ointments, settling you into the spring, and bringing you snacks. Your sister in law had made a mess of herself as well, cumming to watching the way the strange women used you, so they even cleaned her as well. By the time your wife made her way to visit you, you were round with the child of one of the Witches.

“You look so content, little husband,” Pasi greeted you, nosing and kissing the side of your head.

“I would be if I hadn’t been missing you so terribly,” you told her, turning your head to kiss her lips.

The daughters the two of you shared accompanied her, giving you the chance to teach them a little bit about farming. You wandered the small farm, singing songs that you had learned from your wife and the Witches, and a couple you remembered from your childhood. One of your older daughters asked about the tattoo on your lower back, and you explained it was a marking from the ritual that would help you have another sister for her. All the girls squealed at the idea of another little sibling to play with and dote on. You smiled fondly. This is what life is about.

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