by Rowan Bree
The centaur shakes his head. “Sorry about these two. Perhaps you would stay and drink with me instead.”
Join the couple upstairs.
Stay with the centaur.
You decline the couple’s invitation and stay with the centaur. He pours you a goblet of wine and you take the first sip with hesitation.
“Don’t worry,” he assures you. “No one will be upset. Things get a bit messy at these feasts and there are infinitely more interesting things for people to gossip about than a serving girl drinking a bit of wine.”
You drink some more and he refills your goblet.
“So you’ve never seen a centaur,” he says.
You shake your head. Not that you remember, anyway.
“But you do know of our reputation.”
That you do remember. It’s hard to forget when tales of the noble race’s ways with women are legend. Even now one of the tables has struck up a song about a centaur’s seduction of a famous queen. It is quite descriptive and your face reddens as you listen to the words. There isn’t nearly enough wine left in your goblet. The centaur pours more.
The song ends with a rowdy cheer as the men pound on the table, sending cutlery flying. As the serving staff scramble to save some of the dishes, one of them catches your eye. He starts towards you carrying an ornate decanter.
The centaur places his hand on yours.
“Come with me,” he says. “Quick, before you’re whisked away to your boring work.”
You get up and feel the wine rush to your head. The server with the decanter breaks into a half-run, but the centaur is faster. You giggle as you follow him out of the hall and towards the kitchens. You want to tell him it’s the wrong way if you want to escape your duties, but all you can do is laugh from the thrill of it. Surely Antoinette will have your head for this.
“In here,” the centaur says, pulling you into a store room filled with wooden crates. He pulls the door closed as servants rush by carrying more platters of food.
Your breath heaves from running, the excitement making your head buzz. You could get caught any moment. You don’t have much time.
The centaur kisses you taking what little breath you had left. You kiss him back as long as you can before breaking away for air. He kisses your cheek and down your neck as you catch your breath. His hands slip your dress off your shoulders.
“Turn around,” he says, still kissing his way down your neck and across your shoulders. You help him slide your dress down and step out of it. He bends you over a stack of crates, caressing and kissing your body.
He asks if you are ready, and you nod. He rests his forelegs up on the crates and moves on top of you. You can feel the flared head of his cock hit your backside and you reach back to stroke its length. You slide it between your thighs and rub it against your pussy. You won’t be able to fit it all in, but you will try your best. You massage the tip with your palm until the both of you are wet. You will need all the help you can get to fit this beast inside of you.
You move the centaur’s cock to your entrance, testing your readiness.
“Go slow,” the centaur tells you.
You push against him and feel yourself stretching until his head pops inside you. You let out a gasp and the centaur chuckles.
“Easy now.”
You let your body open up bit by bit to take him in, every inch making you hornier. You slide back onto his cock until you can go no further. Your pussy clenches and you quiver.
The centaur asks if you are okay.
You moan in response and push back on him. He fucks you slowly at first but encouraged by your reaction starts going harder. His cock is drenched by your arousal and so are your quaking thighs as he drives himself into you.
The crates bang against the wall under the weight of the both of you. Surely someone will hear you even over the din of the kitchens.
The centaur lets out a groan and you can feel his seed dripping down your thigh. Each time he thrusts into you more of his cum dribbles out of you. Finally his cock goes limp and slips out of you. You can feel your filled pussy gaping. You stop to catch your breath.
“You won’t be able to go back out like this,” the centaur says. “Let me help.” You hear him shift behind you and feel his hands on your thighs, then a tongue.
The centaur lovingly licks you clean. You enjoy the gentle warmth of his tongue and lips on your skin. When he is done you put back on your dress and follow him back to the hall, careful not to be caught by any of the kitchen staff.
There is someone waiting for you when you return to the great hall. The servant with the ornate decanter corners you as soon as you enter.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says glancing at the centaur, “but Antoinette asked to have you bring this upstairs.” He tells you where to go and hands you the decanter. “Don’t keep them waiting.”
You say a quick goodbye to the centaur and leave the hall. You go up the castle’s main staircase into the upper reaches where you have rarely ventured before. What business could you have bringing wine up here? Aren’t all the king’s guests at the feast?
You arrive at a stone archway draped with black curtains. You can hear hushed voices beyond and stop to listen for a moment before entering.
“Have you found her yet?” The voice is thin but petulant.
“No, sir. No one has seen her since the forest.” The second voice much deeper, but scared.
“She’s in the capital. I can feel it.”
“We don’t need her tonight.”
“The longer she is in Tyven, the greater the chance they’ll get to her. I won’t let that happen. She’s mine.”
Enter the room.
Leave.
You politely take your leave of the centaur and join the couple.
The minotaur grabs your hand as the elf pulls him out of the hall giggling. You follow them upstairs.
“I’m glad you came with us,” the elf says, opening the door to the couple’s chambers. “Minotaurs are insatiable and I can never satisfy him on my own.”
She begins to undress as the minotaur goes to sit on the bed. Her breasts are pert with upturned nipples. Her hips follow a slight curve to her slim thighs. Just looking at her you can guess she is incredibly flexible.
You follow her lead and let your dress fall to the floor.
The elf eyes you up and down. She smiles. “Not bad at all. What do you think?” she asks the minotaur.
He replies, “I think I want you both over here before I burst out of my pants.”
“After you,” the elf says.
You go to the minotaur. His lusty eyes take in your body. His fingers graze your buttocks. You can see the outline of his cock in his pants straining for your touch.
Attend to his cock.
Kiss him.
You kneel before him and undo his pants. He strokes your hair, encouraging you as you bring your lips to his flared head. His taste makes you shiver, his flesh soft and warm against your tongue.
The elf climbs onto the bed next to him, kissing him as you attend to his cock. He fondles her breasts and tickles between her thighs. His fingers come away wet with her arousal.
She looks down at you, her cheeks blushed. You slide your mouth along the minotaur’s cock, taking him as deep as you can go. The minotaur groans and his grip tightens on your hair. He slips one of his fingers of the other hand inside the elf as you feel the tip of his cock reach your throat.
You continue to pleasure him with your mouth as the elf grinds against his fingers. Not too long after you hear the elf coming and feel the minotaur’s cock twitch in your mouth. You aren’t about to let him cum yet. He groans as his slick cock pops out of your mouth. He lies back on the bed.
You climb up to join the couple.
Straddle the minotaur’s cock.
Straddle the minotaur’s face.
The elf kneels before him and undoes his pants. He strokes her hair, encou
raging her as she brings her lips to his flared head. His taste makes her shiver with pleasure.
“Come here,” he tells you.
You climb onto the bed next to him, kissing him as the elf attends to his cock. The coarse fur on his face slides through your fingers as you stroke his cheek. His thick bovine tongue feels almost like a cock inside your mouth. You suck on it, massaging it with your own much smaller one.
He fondles your breasts and tickles between your thighs. His fingers come away wet with your arousal.
You look down at the elf. Her cheeks are blushed. She slides her lips along the minotaur’s cock, taking him as deep as she can go. The minotaur groans and his grip tightens on her hair. He slips one of his fingers of the other hand inside you as you watch the elf deep throat him.
The elf continues to pleasure him with her mouth as you grind against his fingers. Not too long after you feel yourself coming.
The minotaur too looks like he is about to cum, but the elf won’t let him. He groans as his slick cock pops out of her mouth, then lies back on the bed. You fall against him, his fingers still inside you.
The elf climbs up to join you.
Straddle the minotaur’s cock.
Straddle the minotaur’s face.
You straddle the minotaur’s cock, teasing it with your wet pussy.
The elf positions herself over the minotaur’s head, facing you. His thick tongue laps at her thighs, licking up her juices. She grinds down on him and you see his tongue enter her.
You too want him inside you and grasp his cock in both hands. You savor the feeling of his flared head coaxing you open.
The elf leans forward and gently stops you. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she says. “This one’s particularly good at getting us non-minotaur women pregnant and I wouldn’t want you to leave us with something extra tonight.”
You keep his cock pressed against your entrance, aching to let it inside you. But the elf’s warning stops you from going any further.
“It’s okay,” she says. “There are plenty of other ways for us to pleasure each other.” She grinds against the minotaur’s snout and lets out a moan.
Make use of your hands and mouth instead.
Take his cock inside you another way.
You straddle the minotaur’s face, teasing his snout with your wet pussy. The elf positions herself over the minotaur’s cock. She rubs her pussy against his length.
The minotaur’s thick tongue laps at your thighs, licking up your juices. You grind down on him and feel his tongue enter you. It fills you as well as any cock could, and its dexterity allows him to massage you in ways a cock couldn’t.
You spend quite some time with the couple pleasuring each other with your hands and mouths, massaging and tasting and getting well acquainted with every curve and fold of their bodies. The elf tells you the minotaur has never failed to impregnate the women he mates, so you avoid any activities that might get you pregnant. But everything else is fair game. And the couple is quite good at what they do.
Only when the three of you are utterly spent do you make it back down to the feast. You feel giggly, your legs wobbly. The three of you lean on each other as if drunk, kissing and groping your way back down to the great hall.
There is someone waiting for you when you return. A servant with an ornate decanter corners you as soon as you enter.
“Where have you been?” he asks.
You try not to blush. The couple excuse themselves leaving you with the angry servant.
He thrusts the decanter at you. “Antoinette wants you to take his upstairs.” He tells you where to go and leaves you in a hurry.
You go up the castle’s main staircase into the upper reaches where you have rarely ventured before. What business could you have bringing wine up here? Aren’t all the king’s guests at the feast?
You arrive at a stone archway draped with black curtains. You can hear hushed voices beyond and stop to listen for a moment before entering.
“Have you found her yet?” The voice is thin but petulant.
“No, sir. No one has seen her since the forest.” The second voice much deeper, but scared.
“She’s in the capital. I can feel it.”
“We don’t need her tonight.”
“The longer she is in Tyven, the greater the chance they’ll get to her. I won’t let that happen. She’s mine.”
Enter the room.
Leave.
You spend quite some time with the couple pleasuring each other with your hands and mouths, massaging and tasting and getting well acquainted with every curve and fold of their bodies. You avoid any activities that might get you pregnant, but everything else is fair game. And the couple is quite good at what they do.
Only when the three of you are utterly spent do you make it back down to the feast. You feel giggly, your legs wobbly. The three of you lean on each other as if drunk, kissing and groping your way back down to the great hall.
There is someone waiting for you when you return. A servant with an ornate decanter corners you as soon as you enter.
“Where have you been?” he asks.
You try not to blush. The couple excuse themselves leaving you with the angry servant.
He thrusts the decanter at you. “Antoinette wants you to take his upstairs.” He tells you where to go and leaves you in a hurry.
You go up the castle’s main staircase into the upper reaches where you have rarely ventured before. What business could you have bringing wine up here? Aren’t all the king’s guests at the feast?
You arrive at a stone archway draped with black curtains. You can hear hushed voices beyond and stop to listen for a moment before entering.
“Have you found her yet?” The voice is thin but petulant.
“No, sir. No one has seen her since the forest.” The second voice much deeper, but scared.
“She’s in the capital. I can feel it.”
“We don’t need her tonight.”
“The longer she is in Tyven, the greater the chance they’ll get to her. I won’t let that happen. She’s mine.”
Enter the room.
Leave.
You need to have the minotaur inside you and know how to get around the elf’s warning. You slide the head of his cock backwards until it rests between your butt cheeks.
His slick cock enters you easily, flared head and all. You are better able to receive his full length this way than any other, and the minotaur seems to appreciate it. He moans against the elf’s pussy as you fuck him with your ass.
You spend quite some time with the couple pleasuring each other, fucking and massaging and tasting and getting well acquainted with every curve and fold of their bodies even after the minotaur has cum deep inside you. The couple is quite good at what they do, and so are you.
Only when the three of you are utterly spent do you make it back down to the feast. You feel giggly, your legs wobbly. The three of you lean on each other as if drunk, kissing and groping your way back down to the great hall.
There is someone waiting for you when you return. A servant with an ornate decanter corners you as soon as you enter.
“Where have you been?” he asks.
You try not to blush. The couple excuse themselves leaving you with the angry servant.
He thrusts the decanter at you. “Antoinette wants you to take his upstairs.” He tells you where to go and leaves you in a hurry.
You go up the castle’s main staircase into the upper reaches where you have rarely ventured before. What business could you have bringing wine up here? Aren’t all the king’s guests at the feast?
You arrive at a stone archway draped with black curtains. You can hear hushed voices beyond and stop to listen for a moment before entering.
“Have you found her yet?” The voice is thin but petulant.
“No, sir. No one has seen her since the forest.” The second voice much deeper, but scared.
“We don’t need her tonight.”
“The longer she is in Tyven, the greater the chance they’ll get to her. I won’t let that happen. She’s mine.”
Enter the room.
Leave.
You enter the room carrying the decanter.
A man in a dark robe stands there on the other side of the curtain. He seems startled by your entrance but quickly recovers and takes the decanter from you.
“Ah, dear kitten. You couldn’t have come at a better time.”
He stands far too close to you, but you don’t realize why until you feel the sharp point of a dagger at your side. You can see every detail of the man’s face, from his pointed chin to his petulant pout. His eerie violet eyes are partially obscured by long, silvery hair.
You don’t know who this man is.
You remember Vale.
You don’t recognize the man, though he seems to know you.
“But you wouldn’t’ t know me, would you?” he says, pushing you further into the room. “I’m Vale, a mage of the Order and soon to be ruler of the kingdom. I do hope you haven’t been fooled by all the lies about us. We’re quite harmless.”
The room is filled with robed figures and guests from the feast in their fine clothes. Red candles burn in sconces. An open space has been cleared in the middle of the room and a circular symbol carved into the stone floor.