I was writing a new Borderlands short and this happened during. The novella itself will appear probably next month, but hey. May as well give you all some milky minotaur fucking. If you want more stuff like this, check me out on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/s?i=digital-...074131&text=Jay+Aury&ref=sr_st_date-desc-rank. All characters are 18 +. Enjoy!
~~~
Anita sat in her room at the inn and nervously fiddled with the hem of her gown.
A single candle burned on the side table, every rivulet of wax melting down it a reminder of the hours and moments running past. She wasn’t certain what she was waiting for. Wasn’t positive why she knew it would come tonight. Here. At this late hour.
But she knew. Every instinct screamed that it would happen. Just what it was… well, she suspected she knew. And a quiet, sinful thrill coursed through her at the thought.
She’d hired the pair for the journey through the Borderlands, knowing that realm’s reputation for danger and menace. Especially for a single woman. It was hard being an independent trader among the Inner Kingdoms, hence why she left those protected valleys and plains and made her way past the mountains, into the wild lands of the Borderlands where fortune availed itself to the brave. But she was under no illusions as to her personal safety. She needed a guard. And for the gold she had, few were willing to take on that task.
And then she’d met Avor and Janine.
She was wary at first. Of course she was. Agreeing to be accompanied by a monster instantly put her on her guard. And a minotaur no less! Though Avor was large, powerful, with curling horns and a build that men would kill for and women swoon at, she couldn’t get past the bristling fur that coated his muscled hide. His bestial muzzle, or the dark eyes that looked down at her inscrutably. But Janine was quite understanding. She explained everything very well. How the contract would work. Under what obligations Avor would work under. And… and Anita supposed she could trust another human in this. Janine was clearly not enthralled by the monster. She was dressed conservatively enough in a modest travelling gown. And if she could travel with the minotaur, Anita supposed she could too.
The deal had been struck and sealed with ink, and the three of them had set out.
Then things changed.
To be sure Janine and Avor fulfilled their ends of the contract perfectly. They acted as her bodyguards, never attempting to rob her or betray her. Keeping her safe on the road and at the odd village willing to trade. But no sooner were they on the road than Janine’s conservative dress vanished. No longer did she bother with blouse and skirt. Instead she wore only a filmy silken loincloth that swished between her shapely thighs. Her breasts, heavy and proud, jutted from her chest in all their naked glory, nipples pierced with golden rings. Her body was coated in dark paint, swirling in savage patterns. Her ass was flawless, save a perfectly worked brand on her rear. Janine had caught Anita staring and explained.
“It’s my master’s mark.”
“Master!” Anita gasped.
“Of course,” Janine had giggled, gently stroking her brand, her eyes lidded in submissive joy. “My master marked me so that all might know to whom I belong. No woman can stay near a minotaur for long and not become his.”
“You were-“
“Oh goodness no!” Janine had laughed, waving away Anita’s concern. “No no! He would never force me. He doesn’t need to. A woman can’t help but be drawn to him. To yearn to submit to such a powerful male. It’s inevitable.”
Anita disliked the sound of that. But she didn’t say anything about it, reasoning her best option was probably to just ignore it. A safe plan, but there was one problem.
And that was how, every night, as they set up to camp, Avor and his slave would make their way a short distance into the woods, and he would mate with her.
The sounds that came through the night were impossible to tune out. The moans and pants and screams of ecstasy from Janine’s soft lips. “Yesss! Yes! Oh gods master! Yes! Fuck me! Take me! Nnnn! Breed meeeeee!”
On it went. Every night the same pleasured sounds. By day Janine would move as if not a thing had happened, but the reek of sex clung to her. The heavy scent of animal musk and pure male virility. It disturbed Anita. Particularly as she found herself increasingly straying near the pair when she knew she should keep away. Letting that scent surround her. Seep into her. How her every breath came in small gasps. How her head began to spin.
Then, two nights ago, she took a step she knew she shouldn’t.
Janine had been sitting near her after dinner. Avor had wandered off, leaving the pair alone. The minotaur’s slut looked to Anita and smiled. “Anita, dear,” the woman said, hefting one of her heavy breasts. “Could you give me a hand? I’ve been feeling… awfully pent up lately.”
“Wh-what?” Anita said.
In answer, Janine gave her breast a squeeze. The sultry slave’s lashes fluttered. A moan escaping her parted lips, and milk dribbled from her perky, dark nipple.
Anita had been struck dumb. Stunned. The thick scent of cream surrounded them.
“I always get so full when Avor doesn’t milk me,” Janine moaned. “Please. Anita. I need your… help…”
Anita didn’t know what to say. What to do. Such a brazen act. So carnal. So abrupt. She hesitated, uncertain. Frightened. Aroused.
But her body knew what to do. Took control. Had her lean forward towards that dusky nipple pierced by gold. Her lips had parted, took that bud of flesh between them.
And sucked.
“Mmmm,” Janine moaned, clasping Anita’s head to her breast as warm milk oozed into the merchant’s mouth. Anita groaned, shivering, but didn’t pull away. She drew closer, straddling Janine’s shapely thigh, nestling against the busty seductress as her lips delicately sucked at that fat nipple. Guzzling the milk of the minotaur’s slave.
“Oh yes. Oh gods yesssss,” Janine moaned as Anita nursed at that dusky, pert nipple. As she drank her fill of heady cream. “Drink me, my sweet. Oh gods. Mnnnn. That’s it. Lick it. Tease it. Get it all. Drink it down. Oh you’re doing so well. So well…”
Anita was blushing. Flushed furiously. But she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop suckling. Drinking. Milking the shapely woman before her. Warm languor spread through her. Gathering in her own breasts. Her core. Her slick, tight pussy. She seemed to spend an eternity at that breast. A lifetime filling herself with the cream of the minotaur’s thrall. Only interrupted long enough to switch to another milky nipple and keep drinking. Keep suckling. Keep being a willing slut.
It seemed to last forever. So much so she didn’t even realize when it ended. Only when she found herself lying on her bedroll, her stomach warm with Janine’s cream, her head heavy and thick with pleasure as she drifted away to sleep.
She couldn’t forget the encounter. Not only for the way Janine kept giving her amused, knowing looks since. But for the way her body felt now. Anita felt… different. Her breasts heavier. More sensitive. Her rump tingling gently like someone had spanked her, punishing her in a way that sent warm shocks of pleasure reverberating in her core every time she sat down. But more than all that, she felt… spacious. Her pussy felt deeper. Emptier. Needing to be filled. And every time she found herself dwelling on that feeling, she realized she was staring at Avor, and the baggy pants that never quite seemed to fully mask the girth of his manhood.
She’d taken a room at the next inn, hoping a night away from the pair would help her adjust to matters. Help her come to her senses. But the hours ticked by. The candle burned down its waxen walls, slumping in its stand.
A fist rapped gently on the door.
Anita’s breath came short and fast. Her heart pounded as the door opened and Janine stepped inside. Again she was all but naked. Again Anita couldn’t help but stare in dumbstruck awe at the stunning beauty of the minotaur’s slave. How her full, eager breasts pushed forward, the golden rings piercing her nipples gleaming in the candlelight. How her hips moved. Swaying tantalizingly, the strip of silk swishing between her legs, teasing at the treasure it hid.
“Anita,” Janine said, rolling her name on her tongue as if tasting it. “It’s time.”
“J-Janine. Time?”
“Yes. Time.”
Janine reached out and took Anita’s hand, gently pulling the other woman to her feet. Anita knew she should object. Should question. But the words stuck in her throat. Her heart pounding so hard it was near deafening. She found herself being led like a dog on a leash out of her room. Down the stairs through the silent inn. The door opened at a touch, and they were outside. The air was cool and smelled of the forest and springtime bloom. By the light of the moon and the stars Janine guided Anita towards the stables and eased open the door.
The clear scent of the night was immediately subsumed. A thick, pungent musk struck the merchant. Anita gasped, her legs trembling at the sheer force of it. She felt her pussy dampen. Her pulse quicken.
Janine pulled her into the darkness. Past the stalls overflowing with straw. The scent grew stronger. Deeper. Thicker. Anita was guided to the last. The wooden door was opened with a creak.
And there awaited Avor.
He lounged against the wall, filling the space with his muscled form. He sat on the straw, at ease. Patient. The moment his dark eyes fell on Anita she felt her head clear. Calm. For she knew what needed to be done. Knew what she had been brought here for.
The minotaur smirked, tilting back his horned head. His pants were gone, leaving his powerful manhood in the open. His blunt headed cock was hard as steel and jutting up with arousal, fairly pulsing with his hunger for her.
Anita said nothing. Words were of no use here. Doubts were banished. Lost. Distractions in the face of her true purpose. Her true need. She walked to him, her feet whispering through the coarse straw. Her clothes fell by the wayside, and by the time she was before him, she was naked. Her gentle curves revealed in the light peeking through the stall’s window.
She went to her knees before him, for that was where she was meant to be, faced with such a specimen. Such an example of pure masculine prowess. Her hands shook as she reached out and grasped his shaft. She gasped at the heat of it. How it pulsed beneath her fingers. In awe she ran her hands over his length. Stroking him. Feeling him.
“Hrrrr,” Avor grunted, pre drooling down his cock. Anita blushed hotly as she massaged his shaft, slickening it with his precum. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly. Before she knew it, she was leaning forward. Her mouth was open, and her tongue was running up his cock.
Her eyes rolled back. A moan trembled through her. She was in heaven. Glorious, thick, submissive heaven. The taste of his cock sang through her. Killed her. Raised her up and had her adoringly lick his massive shaft.
She’d dreamed of it. Fantasized. Who wouldn’t? But she had never guessed the true glory of a minotaur’s cock.
Something soft pressed against her back. “Good girl,” Janine purred in her ear, the cow slut’s arms looping around Anita, the merchant whimpering as delicate, skillful fingers engulfed her needy teats. Squeezed and teased those tender nubs. “You’re doing so well, Anita. That’s it. Just lick it. Just suck him. Make your master nice and wet. He’ll need to be. Because he’s going in you next. He’s going to claim your pretty pink pussy. Won’t that be nice? Won’t it be grand?”
Anita trembled at the suggestion. Taking that cock? That massive bull dick? Could she? Could she survive mating with him? But those doubts didn’t fill her with fear, but anticipation. She couldn’t wait to feel him in her. To discover if she could take him. To be stuffed and mated and used by such a powerful male. Something deeper than her soul cried out for it. Begged for it. To be so thoroughly used by such a creature as he.
Her lips left Avor’s cock. Janine helped her climb onto his lap, look into his eyes. She felt her fellow slave lift her bottom, align her new master’s cock, and gently ease her down.
“Mnnnnnnn!” Anita moaned as she felt the minotaur’s cock press against her pussy lips, and begin to fill her. Inch by inch. Stuffing her like nothing she had known before.
“Take it,” Janine whispered in her ear, soothing her, helping her down. “Take your master’s cock. Take it all. Be a good cow slut. An eager slave. Take your master. Let him fill you. Let him own you. Let him make you his.”
“Yesssssss!” Anita moaned, trembling as she took more of his cock. More. More! She hungered for it. For it all. To take him utterly. Totally. To be filled by him and fucked by him. To know what made Janine scream and moan in the night. To beg to serve. To be branded by this monster. She wanted to know. Wanted to experience.
Wanted to serve.
At last she felt the root. How did she take it all? The milk, a part of her mind not lost in the sensation of being stuffed with monster cock said. The milk you drank changed you. Corrupted you. A drunken smile stole across her lips at the recognition. The fear banished.
And she began to ride him.
“Ah. Ah! Ahn!” she panted as inch after inch of minotaur cock thrust in and out of her overstretched pussy. Using her like a sleeve. Her cries grew in volume. Her hips began to work, fucking herself atop him. Her voice rose in a scream of purest pleasure as she came, squirting around his cock.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Master! Yes! Masterrrr! Tame me! Fuck meeeeee!”
Avor’s hands grasped her hips. Drove her down onto his cock. Her voice keened with pleasure as she took him again. Her moans growing as she felt Janine kneel between their master’s thighs and begin to bathe his furry balls with her tongue, urging him to completion. To fill his newest thrall. To make her his.
But Avor would not be rushed. Not be hastened. He knew she was broken. Was his. And he would enjoy his victory. Enjoy stretching her around his greatness for the first time. Enjoy the eager servitude of his two cow sluts. Again and again Anita came. Her orgasms beating her down. Crushing who she was. Banishing the merchant, leaving only the pleasure addled cow slut. The slave of the minotaur. Her breasts bounced and heaved. So heavy. So full. She moaned and whimpered as she took him. As she rode him. As she begged him. Mewled. Panted. Whimpered for him to cum. To cum. To cum!
Then, she felt it. The twitch of his cock. The tightening of his balls. And when, at last, his thick, virile seed fountained within her, she knew only bliss. As what felt like gallons of thick minotaur seed pumped into her. As her master bellowed like the bull in the paddock, she screamed with him. Surrendered to him. At last truly became his.
“Breeeeed meeeeee!” was her cry of surrender. The white flag of her humanity.
She came back to herself lying on the straw. Her master’s cock withdrew from her with a wet schlucking sound. His cum oozed from her gaping pussy and mingled with the straw. Her whole body gleamed with sweat. Twitched with aftershocks of purest pleasure.
Janine moved next to her. Kissed her. Stroked her. “Wasn’t it wonderful?” the cowslut purred.
Anita could only smile in dumb bliss. Moan softly as Janine teased her breast, stroked a nipple until a bead of sweet cream dribbled from Anita’s teat. “Oh yes,” Anita moaned. “So wonderful.”
Janine giggled with her. Kissed her. And together, they crawled to their master’s lap, and bathed his cock with their tongues, like the good cow sluts they were.
~~~
Anita sat in her room at the inn and nervously fiddled with the hem of her gown.
A single candle burned on the side table, every rivulet of wax melting down it a reminder of the hours and moments running past. She wasn’t certain what she was waiting for. Wasn’t positive why she knew it would come tonight. Here. At this late hour.
But she knew. Every instinct screamed that it would happen. Just what it was… well, she suspected she knew. And a quiet, sinful thrill coursed through her at the thought.
She’d hired the pair for the journey through the Borderlands, knowing that realm’s reputation for danger and menace. Especially for a single woman. It was hard being an independent trader among the Inner Kingdoms, hence why she left those protected valleys and plains and made her way past the mountains, into the wild lands of the Borderlands where fortune availed itself to the brave. But she was under no illusions as to her personal safety. She needed a guard. And for the gold she had, few were willing to take on that task.
And then she’d met Avor and Janine.
She was wary at first. Of course she was. Agreeing to be accompanied by a monster instantly put her on her guard. And a minotaur no less! Though Avor was large, powerful, with curling horns and a build that men would kill for and women swoon at, she couldn’t get past the bristling fur that coated his muscled hide. His bestial muzzle, or the dark eyes that looked down at her inscrutably. But Janine was quite understanding. She explained everything very well. How the contract would work. Under what obligations Avor would work under. And… and Anita supposed she could trust another human in this. Janine was clearly not enthralled by the monster. She was dressed conservatively enough in a modest travelling gown. And if she could travel with the minotaur, Anita supposed she could too.
The deal had been struck and sealed with ink, and the three of them had set out.
Then things changed.
To be sure Janine and Avor fulfilled their ends of the contract perfectly. They acted as her bodyguards, never attempting to rob her or betray her. Keeping her safe on the road and at the odd village willing to trade. But no sooner were they on the road than Janine’s conservative dress vanished. No longer did she bother with blouse and skirt. Instead she wore only a filmy silken loincloth that swished between her shapely thighs. Her breasts, heavy and proud, jutted from her chest in all their naked glory, nipples pierced with golden rings. Her body was coated in dark paint, swirling in savage patterns. Her ass was flawless, save a perfectly worked brand on her rear. Janine had caught Anita staring and explained.
“It’s my master’s mark.”
“Master!” Anita gasped.
“Of course,” Janine had giggled, gently stroking her brand, her eyes lidded in submissive joy. “My master marked me so that all might know to whom I belong. No woman can stay near a minotaur for long and not become his.”
“You were-“
“Oh goodness no!” Janine had laughed, waving away Anita’s concern. “No no! He would never force me. He doesn’t need to. A woman can’t help but be drawn to him. To yearn to submit to such a powerful male. It’s inevitable.”
Anita disliked the sound of that. But she didn’t say anything about it, reasoning her best option was probably to just ignore it. A safe plan, but there was one problem.
And that was how, every night, as they set up to camp, Avor and his slave would make their way a short distance into the woods, and he would mate with her.
The sounds that came through the night were impossible to tune out. The moans and pants and screams of ecstasy from Janine’s soft lips. “Yesss! Yes! Oh gods master! Yes! Fuck me! Take me! Nnnn! Breed meeeeee!”
On it went. Every night the same pleasured sounds. By day Janine would move as if not a thing had happened, but the reek of sex clung to her. The heavy scent of animal musk and pure male virility. It disturbed Anita. Particularly as she found herself increasingly straying near the pair when she knew she should keep away. Letting that scent surround her. Seep into her. How her every breath came in small gasps. How her head began to spin.
Then, two nights ago, she took a step she knew she shouldn’t.
Janine had been sitting near her after dinner. Avor had wandered off, leaving the pair alone. The minotaur’s slut looked to Anita and smiled. “Anita, dear,” the woman said, hefting one of her heavy breasts. “Could you give me a hand? I’ve been feeling… awfully pent up lately.”
“Wh-what?” Anita said.
In answer, Janine gave her breast a squeeze. The sultry slave’s lashes fluttered. A moan escaping her parted lips, and milk dribbled from her perky, dark nipple.
Anita had been struck dumb. Stunned. The thick scent of cream surrounded them.
“I always get so full when Avor doesn’t milk me,” Janine moaned. “Please. Anita. I need your… help…”
Anita didn’t know what to say. What to do. Such a brazen act. So carnal. So abrupt. She hesitated, uncertain. Frightened. Aroused.
But her body knew what to do. Took control. Had her lean forward towards that dusky nipple pierced by gold. Her lips had parted, took that bud of flesh between them.
And sucked.
“Mmmm,” Janine moaned, clasping Anita’s head to her breast as warm milk oozed into the merchant’s mouth. Anita groaned, shivering, but didn’t pull away. She drew closer, straddling Janine’s shapely thigh, nestling against the busty seductress as her lips delicately sucked at that fat nipple. Guzzling the milk of the minotaur’s slave.
“Oh yes. Oh gods yesssss,” Janine moaned as Anita nursed at that dusky, pert nipple. As she drank her fill of heady cream. “Drink me, my sweet. Oh gods. Mnnnn. That’s it. Lick it. Tease it. Get it all. Drink it down. Oh you’re doing so well. So well…”
Anita was blushing. Flushed furiously. But she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop suckling. Drinking. Milking the shapely woman before her. Warm languor spread through her. Gathering in her own breasts. Her core. Her slick, tight pussy. She seemed to spend an eternity at that breast. A lifetime filling herself with the cream of the minotaur’s thrall. Only interrupted long enough to switch to another milky nipple and keep drinking. Keep suckling. Keep being a willing slut.
It seemed to last forever. So much so she didn’t even realize when it ended. Only when she found herself lying on her bedroll, her stomach warm with Janine’s cream, her head heavy and thick with pleasure as she drifted away to sleep.
She couldn’t forget the encounter. Not only for the way Janine kept giving her amused, knowing looks since. But for the way her body felt now. Anita felt… different. Her breasts heavier. More sensitive. Her rump tingling gently like someone had spanked her, punishing her in a way that sent warm shocks of pleasure reverberating in her core every time she sat down. But more than all that, she felt… spacious. Her pussy felt deeper. Emptier. Needing to be filled. And every time she found herself dwelling on that feeling, she realized she was staring at Avor, and the baggy pants that never quite seemed to fully mask the girth of his manhood.
She’d taken a room at the next inn, hoping a night away from the pair would help her adjust to matters. Help her come to her senses. But the hours ticked by. The candle burned down its waxen walls, slumping in its stand.
A fist rapped gently on the door.
Anita’s breath came short and fast. Her heart pounded as the door opened and Janine stepped inside. Again she was all but naked. Again Anita couldn’t help but stare in dumbstruck awe at the stunning beauty of the minotaur’s slave. How her full, eager breasts pushed forward, the golden rings piercing her nipples gleaming in the candlelight. How her hips moved. Swaying tantalizingly, the strip of silk swishing between her legs, teasing at the treasure it hid.
“Anita,” Janine said, rolling her name on her tongue as if tasting it. “It’s time.”
“J-Janine. Time?”
“Yes. Time.”
Janine reached out and took Anita’s hand, gently pulling the other woman to her feet. Anita knew she should object. Should question. But the words stuck in her throat. Her heart pounding so hard it was near deafening. She found herself being led like a dog on a leash out of her room. Down the stairs through the silent inn. The door opened at a touch, and they were outside. The air was cool and smelled of the forest and springtime bloom. By the light of the moon and the stars Janine guided Anita towards the stables and eased open the door.
The clear scent of the night was immediately subsumed. A thick, pungent musk struck the merchant. Anita gasped, her legs trembling at the sheer force of it. She felt her pussy dampen. Her pulse quicken.
Janine pulled her into the darkness. Past the stalls overflowing with straw. The scent grew stronger. Deeper. Thicker. Anita was guided to the last. The wooden door was opened with a creak.
And there awaited Avor.
He lounged against the wall, filling the space with his muscled form. He sat on the straw, at ease. Patient. The moment his dark eyes fell on Anita she felt her head clear. Calm. For she knew what needed to be done. Knew what she had been brought here for.
The minotaur smirked, tilting back his horned head. His pants were gone, leaving his powerful manhood in the open. His blunt headed cock was hard as steel and jutting up with arousal, fairly pulsing with his hunger for her.
Anita said nothing. Words were of no use here. Doubts were banished. Lost. Distractions in the face of her true purpose. Her true need. She walked to him, her feet whispering through the coarse straw. Her clothes fell by the wayside, and by the time she was before him, she was naked. Her gentle curves revealed in the light peeking through the stall’s window.
She went to her knees before him, for that was where she was meant to be, faced with such a specimen. Such an example of pure masculine prowess. Her hands shook as she reached out and grasped his shaft. She gasped at the heat of it. How it pulsed beneath her fingers. In awe she ran her hands over his length. Stroking him. Feeling him.
“Hrrrr,” Avor grunted, pre drooling down his cock. Anita blushed hotly as she massaged his shaft, slickening it with his precum. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly. Before she knew it, she was leaning forward. Her mouth was open, and her tongue was running up his cock.
Her eyes rolled back. A moan trembled through her. She was in heaven. Glorious, thick, submissive heaven. The taste of his cock sang through her. Killed her. Raised her up and had her adoringly lick his massive shaft.
She’d dreamed of it. Fantasized. Who wouldn’t? But she had never guessed the true glory of a minotaur’s cock.
Something soft pressed against her back. “Good girl,” Janine purred in her ear, the cow slut’s arms looping around Anita, the merchant whimpering as delicate, skillful fingers engulfed her needy teats. Squeezed and teased those tender nubs. “You’re doing so well, Anita. That’s it. Just lick it. Just suck him. Make your master nice and wet. He’ll need to be. Because he’s going in you next. He’s going to claim your pretty pink pussy. Won’t that be nice? Won’t it be grand?”
Anita trembled at the suggestion. Taking that cock? That massive bull dick? Could she? Could she survive mating with him? But those doubts didn’t fill her with fear, but anticipation. She couldn’t wait to feel him in her. To discover if she could take him. To be stuffed and mated and used by such a powerful male. Something deeper than her soul cried out for it. Begged for it. To be so thoroughly used by such a creature as he.
Her lips left Avor’s cock. Janine helped her climb onto his lap, look into his eyes. She felt her fellow slave lift her bottom, align her new master’s cock, and gently ease her down.
“Mnnnnnnn!” Anita moaned as she felt the minotaur’s cock press against her pussy lips, and begin to fill her. Inch by inch. Stuffing her like nothing she had known before.
“Take it,” Janine whispered in her ear, soothing her, helping her down. “Take your master’s cock. Take it all. Be a good cow slut. An eager slave. Take your master. Let him fill you. Let him own you. Let him make you his.”
“Yesssssss!” Anita moaned, trembling as she took more of his cock. More. More! She hungered for it. For it all. To take him utterly. Totally. To be filled by him and fucked by him. To know what made Janine scream and moan in the night. To beg to serve. To be branded by this monster. She wanted to know. Wanted to experience.
Wanted to serve.
At last she felt the root. How did she take it all? The milk, a part of her mind not lost in the sensation of being stuffed with monster cock said. The milk you drank changed you. Corrupted you. A drunken smile stole across her lips at the recognition. The fear banished.
And she began to ride him.
“Ah. Ah! Ahn!” she panted as inch after inch of minotaur cock thrust in and out of her overstretched pussy. Using her like a sleeve. Her cries grew in volume. Her hips began to work, fucking herself atop him. Her voice rose in a scream of purest pleasure as she came, squirting around his cock.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Master! Yes! Masterrrr! Tame me! Fuck meeeeee!”
Avor’s hands grasped her hips. Drove her down onto his cock. Her voice keened with pleasure as she took him again. Her moans growing as she felt Janine kneel between their master’s thighs and begin to bathe his furry balls with her tongue, urging him to completion. To fill his newest thrall. To make her his.
But Avor would not be rushed. Not be hastened. He knew she was broken. Was his. And he would enjoy his victory. Enjoy stretching her around his greatness for the first time. Enjoy the eager servitude of his two cow sluts. Again and again Anita came. Her orgasms beating her down. Crushing who she was. Banishing the merchant, leaving only the pleasure addled cow slut. The slave of the minotaur. Her breasts bounced and heaved. So heavy. So full. She moaned and whimpered as she took him. As she rode him. As she begged him. Mewled. Panted. Whimpered for him to cum. To cum. To cum!
Then, she felt it. The twitch of his cock. The tightening of his balls. And when, at last, his thick, virile seed fountained within her, she knew only bliss. As what felt like gallons of thick minotaur seed pumped into her. As her master bellowed like the bull in the paddock, she screamed with him. Surrendered to him. At last truly became his.
“Breeeeed meeeeee!” was her cry of surrender. The white flag of her humanity.
She came back to herself lying on the straw. Her master’s cock withdrew from her with a wet schlucking sound. His cum oozed from her gaping pussy and mingled with the straw. Her whole body gleamed with sweat. Twitched with aftershocks of purest pleasure.
Janine moved next to her. Kissed her. Stroked her. “Wasn’t it wonderful?” the cowslut purred.
Anita could only smile in dumb bliss. Moan softly as Janine teased her breast, stroked a nipple until a bead of sweet cream dribbled from Anita’s teat. “Oh yes,” Anita moaned. “So wonderful.”
Janine giggled with her. Kissed her. And together, they crawled to their master’s lap, and bathed his cock with their tongues, like the good cow sluts they were.
