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My Minotaur Part Five

In Which Lady Ailara Does Some Shopping
(Author’s Note: In this chapter, statements between (**)’s are from Ailara’s perspective as she peers through the eyes of others)

I glared.

I fumed.

I stamped my feet.

“I do not care how many tantrums you throw, Ailara. We are NOT going back for your wardrobe. We’re leagues away from that place, and besides, it was, how do you humans put it? Ah yes, a pain in my ass to carry mile after mile.” Oluth snorted.

“But I shall have to buy all new clothing! Don’t you understand that every item in that chest was the HEIGHT of fashion? I would not be seen in public withou-“ But Oluth interrupted my protest.

“AILARA! Do you see these tears streaming from my eyes over your horrible predicament?” He asked.

“I can see none of them...” I said hesitantly.

“EXACTLY! Now march, you ball-licking, impudent wench!”

And I marched.


Oluth had taken to a most annoying habit as we walked. In the absence of my wardrobe, he instead chose to carry Saela, letting her sit on one of his broad, sculpted shoulders. It was not long however before he was sampling dangling her by her pale thighs, upside-down, letting her curl her face up into his swinging scrotum beneath the loin cloth. As we walked the slurpy sounds of her lust became a constant annoyance to my ears.

It had a different effect on Valsivale Saela sucked and worshipped Oluth’s monstrous soft cock and heavy balls, the Enchantress’ hand would occasionally drop down, giving her clit the lightest of flicks in response to her arousal. The nipples of her massive, frustratingly large breasts were clearly erect, straining forward against her shirt as though guiding us to our destination.

Come to think of it, so too were my own.

We trudged along, her sucking sounds going on for miles and miles, but he finally set her down as we reached the bottom of the hills surrounding the strange city. Saela seemed woozy, whether it was from the heady musk of the balls she’d been sucking so persistently, or being upside-down causing the blood to rush to her head I could not be sure.

“I do not think Ailara’s husband will find us here. We’re a great distance from where they last saw us. Still, be on the alert for other dangers.” Oluth instructed.

Valsivale began to fish around in one of her larger waist-pouches, “Just a moment dearies, I have something somewhere for you all...”

She handed us each a small glass marble. “These are enchanted. Just hold it in your palm, close your eyes, and think of a person and you’ll see them inside your head. This way we can keep track of each other.”

I tested mine, thinking of Oluth... it was like looking at him through another’s eyes, but it seemed to work fine.

“All right. I am going to see what I can find out about Ailara’s husband’s pursuit. You ladies do as you wish. We’ll find each other later with Valsivale’s glass beads.” Oluth commanded.

And we went our separate ways.


Sometimes I wish to curse Oluth’s name to the heavens. I wish I could curse those big, deep brown eyes, that perfect musculature that ripples with strength and vitality in every motion he makes, that deep rumbling voice which seems to command my heart to dance at its every intonation, not to mention that endless cock which he uses so well, seeming to force-march my pussy over a league of pleasure each time he fucks me...

...I realized with embarrassment that I’d actually just had an orgasm even as I just tried to stay angry at Oluth. It could not be done, damn him.

Well, first things first. Where were we exactly?

I wandered up to the nearest slack-jawed peasant, a teenage boy whose eyes seemed to be trying to jump ship for the ocean of my cleavage as I approached.

“You there, wastrel, what city is this?” I demanded.

“I-I’m no wastrel ma’am, we’re all equals here in the free city of Scarnia.” He muttered back.

“Well you’re not my equal boy, but my thanks for the answer.”

I turned from him even as he stammered to say something else.

“Stuck up bitch!” He managed while I was still in earshot.

“In my own lands I could have you tortured, killed, and then tortured some more for saying that.” I shot back with edge.

“Well you’re not in your own lands.” He said, raising his middle finger in what I must assume was some sort of offensive gesture in this place.

He was right though. This land was strange. The buildings were square, the streets made of solid unhewn stone, and everyone seemed incredibly wealthy for peasantry. Their clothes were clean, their hair immaculate, and horse-drawn carriages seemed to flow in a never-ending stream through the streets, as if everyone could afford to own a team.

It may have been the effect that Oluth had on me, but I was quick to notice sexual features as well. Most of the men here seemed to have well-packed trousers; none so impressive as the great Myrnotaur of course, but easily more than anything the peasant males back home might have been appointed. Then there were the women; how was it possible that all could have such large, firm breasts? They seemed to defy gravity, barely bouncing as they walked, none my size, but all larger than what might have been back home.

Ah, but here there was reason! As I wandered the streets I chanced to glimpse a woman whose shawl had slipped, and beneath this there was clearly a strap over each of her shoulders. These women had some garment that enhanced their bosoms. I had to know more.

”Peasant wench, what is lifting your bosom?” I demanded of the next woman I saw pass.

“WHAT?!” Here eyes went wide and her face went red.

“Your teats, peasant. What holds them in place?”

“A-a-a Bra?” She sounded confused.

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking, now would I?”

“You’re horrible.”

“No. I’m better then you. Now scurry on, I’m going to find where they sell these...’Bra’ things.”

And again I was off through the streets. It took some time, and more agonizing conversations with slow-witted, slack jawed peasants who did not know their places for me to finally be directed to a tailor who sold this “lingerie”.

Everywhere I went it seemed no one bowed before me, addressed me with the proper respect a lady deserves, and a few even started to lecture me about how they had no monarchy or aristocracy here, that they all made decisions together in some sort of “Dumbocracy.” Aptly named to say the least.

But the brassieres fascinated me! The tailor was a pleasant little man who could not conceal his merely adequate hard-on at the prospect of measuring me. An elaborate series of lengths were taken, around my torso, my breasts, and rib cage. When finished he whistled.

“Milady,” He had learned to address me with respect at least “These are the largest bosoms I’ve ever seen. It will take me some time to fashion you a bra adequate to the task of supporting the weight of such a superlative pair.”

I beamed at the compliment.

“I think I shall have to call it an i-cup.” He rubbed his hands together with glee.

“Explain to me how it works.” I said.

And he did, showing me the whole system of measurement. From this I deduced that little Saela was a mere DD cup, and Valsivale’s pair might have been a mighty J cup, though she would never have need of a supportive garment. Of course with Valsivale’s magics upon me, mine would have been at least in the range of KK or even L cup. I requested him to make one bra in each of these sizes, and his eyes bugged out of his head.

“I’d really prefer to measure each of these women in person, milady.” He said with anticipation in his voice.

“Oh, go masturbate into a thimble. I’ll be back with money when the bras are complete. How long do you think it will take?”

He scowled at my words. “They’ll be ready tomorrow morning, Lady.”

“Adequate.” I grumped as I went out the door.

The nearest bank still accepted my husband’s name as my own in credit, and the sack of coin I left with was almost as large and heavy as Oluth’s scrotum.

Curious, I turned my attention to the marble and decided to do a little eavesdropping. What Valsivale did not warn me of the little glass stones, was that if you looked through someone’s eyes long enough, you started to cue into their thoughts and memories. By and by I came to know how Saela had spent her whole afternoon, the Syphaerel language of her thoughts somehow understandable to me, and I processed all in her own inner-monologue, far more upbeat than my own.


Story II; In which Saela gets into trouble with the law.

It had been a great morning!

I had spent all of it feasting on Oluth’s fat balls, giddy as a mere 80 year old brat while he carried and fed me!

(*Saela is more than 80? I shall have to taunt her mercilessly for this...*)

Oh but they were tasty! How can anyone’s man-fruit be that large and that delicious at the same time!

Oh and the fuckings he dishes out! It’s true what they say back home! Once you go Bull, you’ll always be full! I hope someday I can take him all!

If only he didn’t come with that awful Ailara, she’s like ten gallons of bitch in a five gallon jug!

(*What? Why you little...*)

Oh well, she’s probably just jealous I’m cuter than her!

(*Oh it is so on...*)

She’d be hot if she weren’t such a prude of course! I guess I’ll have to content myself with fantasies of Valsivale until she learns to be nicer!


I hope she does the same with me! Humans are so limited in their choices! If they lived as long as us they’d understand that you get BORED with just one gender to screw after a few centuries!

So this is Scarnia huh?! I’ve always wanted to come here! So much to see and take!


I flit down the street, keeping close to walls; I didn’t see any other Syphaerel so it was important to try to keep my ears underneath my hair. You can never tell how humans are going to react to one of our kind. I was going to need money for a few things. Clothes for one; I didn’t want to have to borrow from the bitch-goddess Ailara ever again; I’ve never been so humiliated. (*Good*)

Also it would be nice to get Oluth something to thank him for allowing me to enjoy his succulent sack all morning. I think the only thing he owns in the world is that loincloth, and it’s not getting any less tattered at this point.

Hmmm... Shall I play it straight? Steal a lute and then play for coin in the marketplace?


Humans are bad at keeping their stuff safe! I tiptoed soundlessly on the hard grey ground. Men’s coin-purses were an easy start, my deft fingers unbinding knots and palming bags away at every turn. I picked three pockets by the time I’d made it to my first merchant stand.

“Excuse me, ma’am, I’ll take that blouse, and that long skirt there...yes, thank you...Could you shorten the bottom a legs aren’t quite so lengthy.”

As she turned to grab the scissors, I re-arranged her stand meticulously, my hands a blur as I pilfered two more shirts, a short skirt, a broach, and a strange white garment, a sort of strap that looked almost as though it might fit Oluth.

By the time she’d turned around, all was secreted away on my person, the shirts and pants and bolts of her cloth nudged one way or another to conceal the absence of all I’d taken.

I took a few crowns from one of the coin purses and handed them over; generously tipping the woman I’d just robbed blind, and traipsed down the street.

I’m about crotch-to-eye level with most tall human males, and I couldn’t help but notice how each one seemed generously endowed for their kind. Sylvans are much better hung than most people suspect, but a number of humans can hold a candle to them. But these men seemed different. Ah! The straps, of course... each one supported his undercarriage with a sort of stretchy hammock that lifted and defined the package better. Not a bad invention, I hope Oluth will appreciate it.

(*She’ll never find one that fits the great bull... but on the other hand, one that doesn’t fit might be even more delicious*)

But there must be something better...Oo look at those statues!

I crept up to another merchant stand. Amongst other busts and little stone carvings and sculptures, he had a whole series of pieces depicting Myrnotaurs! They were not quite as impressive looking as the real thing, but they were nicely made, some in battle with axes or spears, and a few others who seemed to be about to take advantage of human women who looked to be at once terrified and aroused. That pretty much sums it up!

I carefully cast a handful of smaller coins behind the man, and as he turned to view and pick them up, three Myrnotaur statues went into the satchel I’d snatched moments before.

When I turned to escape, however, I was greeted by an awful sight!

“Hello darling. Have you missed me?” Evarell grinned maliciously at me.

How had he gotten here?

“Ex-Fiancé, how did you...?”

“You just couldn’t keep to the plan, could you, little slut. Here I wasted so much money on a couple of Aurkish thugs to kill you so I could go weeping to your family for your inheritance, and you just had to be cockcharmed away from me by some hulking bull bastard.”

“So that’s how they caught you off guard!” I knew that situation had seemed all wrong.

“Well I don’t see your mighty-membered moo-cow anymore. Did he ditch you at the first crossroad after having his way with you?”

“No, he’s—“

“—Not here right now regardless. And you know what is here? More the gods they work cheap!” My bastard ex-fiancé’s smile widened as two burly green pig-men came to stand beside him.

Then I was running. I tore back the way I came, ducking between and under people as best as I could while the three men followed me, Evarell’s Sylvan speed allowing him to almost grab me.

Then I found myself running into a semi-circle of guards.

“Oh thank the gods! Officers this man is—“

“—Going to stand aside while we arrest you for looting 47 people in 22 minutes.” Two guards shoved Evarell back as a third and forth slapped manacles onto me.

Quick math told me that a cold cell for the night was better than a cold knife between the ribs, so I merely stuck my tongue out at my ex as the humans led me to a tiny cell.


Why did I have to get the smart jailor? He was a single middle-aged human posted to keep watch on me, my copious pile of looted objects on the table just outside my prison.

“All right little miss, I don’t think al little thieving is something to get all bent out of shape about really. So here’s the deal pretty one... if you suck my prick, I’ll let you out of here.”

I looked out the window. Evarell was standing with his arms folded across the street, a glint in his eye as he beheld my face looking out. He ran a thumb across this throat and pointed to me, letting me know I was a dead woman the second I left this place.

“No, that’s okay Mister. You can leave your prick out of this...I uh, I want to do my time.”

The Jailor pondered a moment, the peeked out the door.

“Oh I get it... You don’t want him to get you, do you?”

I sighed. “No sir.”

“Then come here and suck me off or I’ll make you leave.”

Gods be damned!

The arrogant little man swaggered over and re-chained my wrists to the bars of the cell so that my face was right at crotch height. He dropped his trousers and strange crotch-hammock to produce the smallest cock I’d ever seen. Eagerly he shoved it against my lips, and I almost sobbed as I began to lick and slurp around it.

The thing was maybe 5 inches when I’d finally gotten hard, and amongst my people, the men are almost born at that size.

(*Haha! this is the best day of my life! Suck it you stupid Sylvan slut! I hope Oluth ditches you here and we never see you again*)

It did not take long before the thing went off in my face, producing much more human spunk than I thought might come out of such a little thing. I was unable to wipe my face in the aftermath, and simply glared and glared from beneath my new white mask, biding my time.


Story III; in which Valsivale takes over.

I turned away from Saela’s mind, as her story got remarkably boring after that. The sad little wretch just sitting in her cell and moping. To her misfortune the Jailor had stamina, and seemed to wander over about every hour to drizzle her face in another thick load of seed. It’s a wonder what such dramatically lesser men can do sometimes.

Now I turned my thoughts to Valsivale, viewing her day, a little astounded as the emotional tapestry of her existence slammed into me.


Lust, lust fear jealous desire lust envy lust lust.

As soon as we’d entered the gates of Scarnia I remembered why I both reviled and reveled in the city. So many people. So many strong emotions.

I wandered the streets slowly, loving the men loving me. I could feel their eyes crawl over my flesh, their anticipation, lust, their intimidation at my cultivated beauty.

Oh yes little boys...I feel it. I feel how bad you want me. I look so good. I want me too. Ngh yesss... I’m so sexy.....fuck I’m hot... yess

(*I had no idea Valsivale was so arrogant!*)

Then the waves of envy come to follow

Ooohhhh my, oh those broken hearts and scared minds. You’re thinking of it aren’t you, women? You’re dreading the thought of your men on their knees for me, worshipping me, serving me... oh you should be...oh your jealousy gives me such power!

(*I wondered if my feelings were so embarrassingly transparent to her.*)

I would have to enjoy this properly. Over drinks. To the tavern!

I found a small pub called “The Happy Hen” and got myself a table.

Now the fun would begin.


The first great thing about this bar, was the general jovial mood. You can do more with happiness than you might think. You can force people to dance for your amusement. I flicked a wrist and gathered the golden joy into my palm, admiring the tint of this emotion before doing exactly that. Tendrils of light caressed the chests of a dozen people in the crowded establishment, and in a mass exodus they proceeded to stand and pick out partners.

Soon they were grinding out on the floor, their loins taking over for their heads, and the air became charged with lust and desire.

I gathered the strands of desire, and let it grow a moment, the balls of it swelling huge between my palms. Its purple light filled the room, causing a few heads to turn. With a flash I distributed it suddenly throughout the place; throwing everyone desire and lust back onto them, causing physical changes to reflect their desires.

Buttons flew across the room as blouses gave way and bras snapped. Ripping sounds came from men all around as cocks filled out and balls sagged larger and heavier, their strange undergarments giving way to the new prodigious weight.

I licked my lips as I surveyed the new kings and queens of sexual conquest in this place.

One woman’s breasts were now almost the size of Ailara’s, billowing up out of her blouse. I gave her a lurid gaze and flicked a little power through it, beckoning her to me.

Oh that sweet Ailara...I would one day make her my own, and pleasure her as even Oluth would have difficulty rivaling. She would be mine, oh yes, she would be mine.


But in the meantime, until I could have Ailara, this tavern wench would have to do. She crept up to me, swaying her hips, crouching to rest her new massive breasts upon the sturdy oak table.

“C-can I get you something miss?” She asked, her nipples clearly erect.

“Yes. You see that man over there with the 14 inch cock?” I pointed at him; he was waving his new dick around in the air, amazed that the strength of his desire had tripled its size. Below this was a pair of goose-egg sized balls, straining at their own sack for all their mass.

She gaped at this, his huge cock standing out even more than the rest in this chaotic scene. There was not a man left under nine inches in this place, and the lust only kept growing and growing, feeding me more fodder for other tricks later.

“Yes I see look at that” A hand dropped to her skirt, her fingers testing her clit out as she half-listened to me.

“I would like you to bring me a brandy-snifter full of his cum. Do I make myself quite clear?”

“Yes ma’am...” She said in awe of my revolting request.

I leaned back and beckoned two men with less copious endowments to come and kneel before me, placing one of my feet on each, leaning back with my legs spread on this pair of human footstools.

Another woman was summoned to kneel before me next, her pendulous new breasts nearly dangling to the floor as I pointed to my glistening slit and made her lick.

I watched, blissfully, as across the room the huge-breasted woman knelt before the 14 inch megastud, wrapping both her hands around his meaty flesh pole. I’d like to take credit, but my magic had nothing to do with the quality of the blowjob she proceeded to give him.

It did not have one of those delicate, tentative beginnings no,... her lust carried her away, and after whipping her head up and down his column, almost chewing it like an ear of corn, she was cramming his huge cocktop right into her mouth. Even in the noisy lust filled room, in which the moans and groans and creaking-wood sounds of an orgy starting up were loud, her gulping slurpy sucks were audible.

The slurpy sounds of her blowjob were sweet news to my snatch, and I waved a finger, quadrupling the length of my cunnilingus slave’s tongue, squirming a little in my chair as she shoved it deep up inside me.

Meanwhile the incredible show on the dance floor was getting attention. A man hand begun to plow my waitress’ pussy from behind, cramming 11 inches of magically enhanced cock deep inside her as she continued to impale her throat on my eventual drink’s dispenser. Another women lay on her back beneath the waitress, sucking on her dangling tits for all she was worth, her own legs spread to receive a vicious 9 inch prod pounding away.

As the 14 inch stud finally started to cum, she yanked his big hose down into the rim of a glass and milked his balls with expert precision as they blasted wad after thick wad of cream into it. At the same time my hips bucked in the throws of what would no doubt be my first orgasm of many. My foot-stool slaves fondled and fingered the woman licking me off as her throat convulsed, gulping my juice as it rolled from me in a river of pleasure-honey.

The Waitress came back with my glass, disentangling herself from the orgy to present it to me with a bow.

“Well done. You may fuck him now.” She clapped with glee, tits and eyes both wild, before scampering back to jump into his arms and onto his cock, fucking him while standing against the wall.

I leaned back and drank deeply of his rich, hot spunk, savoring the taste before swallowing. Then a strapping lad with ten inches bowed before me.

“May I please fuck your pussy, Enchantress?” He was a bright boy, but out of luck today. “No, I save this for a bigger and better man than any here. But you may continue where the last left off and lick me.”

“Yes ma’am!” He saluted, and knelt before me.

Guards came eventually, but they too were only swept by my spell, and soon the tavern was filled with over 100 people having sex, the lust feeding me as slave after slave licked and fingered me to orgasm after orgasm.


Story IV: In which Oluth makes everything right.

I had to stop watching Valsivale, the wave of her own pleasure too overwhelming for me to concentrate. It’s a good thing too; because that’s when my husband’s men suddenly burst into the restaurant I’d been eating in.

I do not know how they reached me so quickly, but soon I was trussed up and being paraded through the streets with a column at my side. My first was still clenched around the marble, and I finally took a chance to peek in on Oluth.


It is almost a relief to have some time to myself.

Oh how they fight for my attention.

(*Can you blame us, Oluth? Come save me quick!*)

Ailara... she is fair, and strong in her way, but oh that attitude. I will one day break her of it, if it is the last thing I do.

And Saela is nice, but perhaps I should have let the small one pleasure me this morning... I ache for release yet do not know where to find it.

Valsivale scares me as much as she arouses me. I do not know if I can keep her in my thrall, she may not be suited to a harem. But we shall see.

Now then, what to do in town? I should get some trail food so we can allow Saela to stop foraging for us... and find out if anyone has taken note of the movement of Ailara’s husband.

I should like to see them try and claim it.

I cast my head about, so far above the views of the humans beneath me, and I grow uncomfortable with looks the women give me as I pass. I have seen those looks before on the faces of three very difficult women, and I do not know how many more I can take before I lose my mind.

I’ll admit I am sometimes disturbed at how coarse I become with rough... how almost cruel in the way I treat them as harem meat. Yet I cannot deny that it is impossible not to abuse the very power they seem to give me so willingly sometimes. Ailara really wants to be put in her place, she just doesn’t realize it.


Oh and if only they knew what they were missing from my sex. So far they climax so easily when I use them for my selfish pleasure. Imagine what joys they might no if they actually let me pleasure them, devoted myself to their fulfillment instead of my own.

(*Oh gods, he wasn’t even TRYING?*)

Perhaps they would not be able to survive such a thing. I shall have to continue being... coarse, if only for their own safety. Yes, that is the way.

Now, as for this.... “Scarnia”, First things first.


My footsteps slapped loud against the smooth stone walkways of this strange city. I was grateful for this, because it masked the quieter slap of my bullhood as it smacked between my thighs. Do not misunderstand me, in the presence of lesser males I enjoy the effect that just the very sound of my cock has on fragile egos, but for keeping a low profile in the city, it can be a nuisance. I had not gone far before I suddenly found myself looking at my own features, artistically rendered, with a sadistic look in my own eye.

I snatched the wanted poster from the wall and snorted as I read the thing.

“Myrnotaur Marauder, wanted dead for the following crimes: Theft, Kidnapping, and the murder of one thousand guards! 10 Sovereigns paid for good information on his whereabouts, and 100 more to the citizen who will bring me his dismembered phallus.”

Beneath was the magistrate information for Ailara’s husband.

He had made a huge mistake in approaching the bounty this way. By lying that I’d already killed a thousand of his guards, he was only giving me permission to do exactly what I’d feared.

The only way he would get near my phallus would be when I clubbed him to death with it.

A few residents caught me looking at my own wanted poster. I arched my back so that I towered over them and glared with contempt, showing them I would slap them away like the gnats they were if they tried a thing.

They thought better of it and crept off down the street. My ears flicked at one comment I heard. “Awww, we wouldn’t want to get between Mad Malarial and a bounty anyway. I heard she once stopped a competing head-hunter by sticking a fork through each one of his balls to nail him to his chair” He seemed truly frightened as he said it.

It would seem this bounty Huntress had something of a reputation. My kind care greatly about that sort of thing, so I would do well to respect it and continue laying low.

The wanton slaughter of my pursuers and inevitable cockbludgeoning of the tiny lord of Ailara’s would have to wait after all.

I would have to gather the others in time, but a drink would be in order first.


Something was wrong in this tavern. My nostrils flared as the thick scent of sex filled them. My ears were greeted with an unending chorus of moans, groans, grunts and cries of pleasure. There were squishing noises, smacking sounds, the unmistakable rhythm of testicles taking a toll on a willing ass. I heard gagging, choking, slurping, sucking, coughing and retching.

It was almost as if this bar was not packed with people, but just filled with one giant wriggling pink entity having sex with itself.

And in a manner of speaking, that’s exactly what was happening, for I glimpsed the Enchantress Valsivale sitting in the corner, cooing in delight as a line formed to feed on her dripping vagina. She punctuated her enjoyment by occasionally flicking her wrist in such a way that it sent a bolt of purple energy to someone else in the bar. When she did this, they redoubled their efforts at whatever sex act they were performing, or had an orgasm, or became abruptly better endowed. It was like she was handing out treats to pet dogs whenever she felt gratified.

I growled before I spook, and the bass boom of my voice cut through the noise of the tavern, bringing near silence—though a few horny humans could not stop mid-fuck—as I glared over the scene.

“Valsivale, stop this at once. This is wrong!”

“Oluth you magnificent stud...We’ve been waiting for you.” She slurred, looking at me with heavy-lidded eyes. She seemed drunk... but the snifter she held seemed only to contain a large volume of human sperm. Perhaps she was intoxicated on the lust she’d generated here...or drunkenness itself was an emotion she might feed off of from the locals. I could not be sure.

“Well I’m here now. Release these people from your thrall and let us take our leave of this place.” I reasoned.

“My Thrall? You make them sound unwilling... these people never had such fun! And look what I’ve done to all the boys... they get to have just a taste of what it’s like to be you all the time. You wouldn’t deny them that, would you?”

Indeed as I surveyed the scene, every member in the room seemed out of proportion with the man who wielded it. They did seem unusually overjoyed.

“It’s an illusion Valsivale. They’ll go back to their normal lives after this... unable to live up even to themselves like this. Now come here, woman!”

Now she scowled.

“Oluth, I’m sensing a lot of anger in wouldn’t to give me that now would you?” She held out a hand, a ball of that painful red light filling it. She was right. I closed my eyes and breathed deep, pretending I was again putting up the facade of a mindless slave, calming myself to the core of my being. She cast out her hand to throw her red lash of energy at me, only to have it flicker and die before it could reach my position.

“Oh damn your composure!” She spat. Then brightened “Hey everybody! Fuck the Myrnotaur for my amusement!”

Suddenly the tavern was filled with noise again, the wave of human flesh rising to encompass me. Sweeping my arms I spilled people left and right, but the distraction left me open to one of Valsivale’s purple blasts of raw untapped horniness. My already bloated balls strained against my sack as my cock rose into instant erection. I was an animal then, my craving for release overtaking my desire to put a stop to this situation.

Men seemed to wilt around me as my proud shaft unveiled itself from my loincloth; even those with the preposterous mega-tumescent organs suddenly had a look of inadequacy about them as soon as they took in my 36 inch cock.

Where the men were reviled, the women were enflamed, surrounding my huge bullhood with hands and tits. Tongues licked and lapped at my muscles from all sides, moistening my every crevice and ridge. Kneeling between my thighs, six mouths competed for my tremendous dangling meat-bombs, plush lips sucking at each titanic nut, tongues pushing them around, constantly trying to steal more moist ballsack. The feeding frenzy was too much for me to take and I let out a deep moan.

I grabbed the tallest of the women by the ears and forced her mouth over my head, pistoning my hips just a little as I threatened to split her lips with the sheer volume of pre-seed I was now shunting out of my balls directly into her gullet.

Valsivale smirked arrogantly at me from her throne of people and winked at me. She turned in her snifter for a massive beer growler, mocking me with a spigot-turning gesture and a leering glance towards the gang of women fighting for my balls. She meant to have my seed it would seem.

I wrapped the cocksucking woman’s tits around my shaft and fucked them as I fucked her mouth, growling in approval as women spiraled around my cock to encompass the rest in cleavage. There were perhaps 8 pairs of mammoth bosoms on me, squishing against one another in all directions.

Valsivale shot a couple blasts into the crowd and suddenly my balls were encased in warmth; two women had been blessed with enhanced mouths to each swallow one of my huge stones.

This was too much and my fat fuck-fruits swelled to the size of pineapples in preparation for an explosion that would threaten to drown the very city we were in.

“NO!” I growled and whipped to the side, spilling women left and right, balls and cock exploding from horny mouths with echoing POPS of vacuum. The tower of tits that had been pleasuring me jiggled in complete disarray, breasts smacking breasts in a staccato of slaps, rippling as the women who owned the mammary glands pulled apart and used their hands to still the shaking and sooth the bruising.

Valsivale looked disappointed.

“I’m not leaving until I’ve had your cum Oluth. You belong to me now.” She sneered.

“You will drink only when I give you leave. You will stop this now. Or I will MAKE you stop this now.”

“How pray tell do you plan to do that, cutie?” She scoffed. “I know you won’t injure these women to get to me... and they’ll put themselves between you and I at all costs to get your seed.”

“I’ll show you.” I said with resonant calm.

Then I began to do exactly what I do best. As I took a step towards her and the swarm of women surrounded me, I grabbed the nearest and laid her on her back on top of the rest, surfing her on the crowed into position such that I could spread her legs. With a savage grunt I fucked into her. I was not gentle, but neither was she dry or unwilling. My vast prick shaft quickly found her deepest depth and stopped just perfectly. From that one thrust she died a little death on my manhood, writhing and moaning on top of her horny cadre of sisters.

But I was not done with this first tavern wench. Swinging my hips my balls slapped past a half dozen tongues and faces, swinging to and fro as I began to add thrust after thrust to my routine. The woman’s orgasms seemed to be multiplying, her cries of pleasure and bleats of joy drowning out all other commotion. The crowd supporting her turned her one way then another, corkscrewing her such that my yard of meat could penetrate her at every angle. When they doubled her over so that my penetration was completely maximized, she gave a single shriek, seemed to suffer a seizure of sorts, and then passed out limp on my weapon with a smile of complete satisfaction on her face.

“You cannot possibly fuck your way through every woman without coming!” Valsivale taunted, tilting the huge stein meant for my seed this way and that.

“Actually, I can,” I said without boasting, “But I shall not have to. Behold.”

Turning to the crowd as I withdrew my turgid shaft from my first victim, this causing a massive sucking noise followed by the wet smack of my hard cock sounding against the hard muscles of my torso.

“Anyone who would like the same treatment that she got,” I said nodding towards the passed out woman, “should bring me Valsivale.”

Valsivale’s eyes widened as her own throng turned from me and rushed to her, fighting for the chance to grab some part of her. She tried in vain to gather more energy, but the crowd’s enthusiastic vigor jostled her too much to keep focused.

“But... but my magic!” She stammered as she was rushed before me.

“Don’t you get it?” I asked as I stepped forward to drop my huge balls directly into her face as I had when we’d first met. “The lust I generate is far stronger then what you can create with your spells and invocations. Anyone you charm through sexual desire will still ultimately be more beholden to me.”

She might have said something, but she could only helplessly blurble into my scrotum.

I lifted my sack from the top and bounced it mightily onto her features, the crowd laughing at her stunned expression and red face, this act of humiliation toppling the proud enchantress from her place of superiority.

I proceeded to teach her a few lessons.

“Lesson one, Valsivale. Your face belongs to me. Whether I want it as a plate for my balls to rest on or a canvas to paint with my precum...” And here I did just that, stepping back to dot her face with thick globs of pre-sperm, milking them out of my shaft with both hands, plumb-sized puddles dotting her cheeks, jaw line, and hair. “...there is nothing you, or any magic, can do about it.”

Her education continued as I hard the crowd come closer and bring her slightly lower.

“Lesson two. Your tits are mine.” I mauled and groped her unnaturally firm, round spheres, first gently, then firm. I toyed with her nipples. I gently slapped them to the left and to the right. I leaned in and licked them before sucking them almost whole into my comparatively huge mouth. I arched my pelvis up and smeared my balls, oh so close to release now, all over them. Then I beat them around with my dick a little. She pouted and stammered and whimpered as I abused her poor chest. I’d be lying if I said I took no joy in doing it, but I will admit that I almost sympathized as she lay helpless before the awesome assault my cock delivered. Finally I fucked it up between her mounds, using the pressure to milk a thick stream of precum right between her eyes, the crowd laughing as she whimpered helplessly and tried to blink it away to no avail.

“Lesson three. Your pussy is only for my pleasure, not yours.” I stuck a thick finger deep inside her, drawing more chuckles from the audience as she squirmed and writhed on it. Then I leveled my cock in both hands an proceeded to smack it over and over against her straining clitoris, my speed increasing as she bit her lip and struggled in vain, unable to escape or get more from me. Beckoning the crowd to tilt her up slightly, I ground my hips up, letting the friction of my shaft rub against her, feeling her juices drip down over my balls as I sawed her clit over and over, towering cockhead punching the bottoms of her breasts every time I let it glide upwards.

“God Oluth, fuck me please!” She begged as my taunting continued.

I cruelly pinched and tugged a swollen horny nipple as I simply continued my snatch-teasing ways. Her clit looked ready to burst and sweat poured from her. She was struggling harder now, fighting for two kinds of release at one time.

“Tell me what you’ve learned.” I said.

“Ungh! no, just fuck me!”

“No. That only happens when I want it to. And I don’t want it to happen until you’ve regurgitated the lessons of the day.”

“Oh Gods damn you Oluth.”

“I can wait all day. Watching your whole body shake each time I grinds your clit doesn’t ever get old.” I calmly said, doing just that, watching her tits jiggle as she shuddered in response.

“Fine you hung bastard. My face is yours. My tits belong to you. My pussy is only for your pleasure. NOW FUCK ME!”

I placed my head at her entrance and just held it there, barely spreading her netherlips with my tip. “Say please.”

She moaned in agony. “PLEASE!”

“Good girl.” I said, finally slipping my cock inside of her. She instantly came hard, squirting enchantress juice spraying out over my abdominal muscles and cock. For ten minutes she bucked and writhed through orgasms without me moving at all, a mere five inches of my fuckstick inside of her.

Women again swirled around my thighs, pressing their breasts against my log-like quadriceps, hands reaching out to offer comfort and support to my swollen gonads, cupping stroking and massaging them as I finally began to fuck Valsivale properly.

The enchantress never had it so good! My cock pounded home, perhaps 23 inches or so impaling her over and over. My thickness was such that her constantly flooding snatch almost turned inside out each time I withdrew, eagerly trying to suck me back in to her innermost recesses. Clouds of magic discharged around us, the fuck frenzy robbing her of the ability to control her powers. She sobbed in catharsis as my cock drove its point home for the 100th time, the whole audience now slipping slightly in the sheen of her cunt cocktail, wondering if my thrusting would ever stop.

But I was not done. I threw her over the bar, hands encasing the globes of her ass as I fucked her harder and harder, my swinging balls doing damage to the fine mahogany wood as they slapped against it with every thrust. The audience began to count each time she screamed loud and squirted in obvious orgasm.

“104! 109! 117!...” They shouted, gallon after gallon of juice erupting from her.

After 147 times, she was clearly exhausted, weakly mewing as I savaged her insides with unrelenting fury.

“Now Valsivale, I’m going to give you just a small taste of what will happen if you EVER show me such disrespect again.”

“mngh, guh, whhhaa?” She managed, hair matted with sweat against her face as she turned back slightly to look at me with tired, terrified eyes.

Grabbing a fist full of her hair I grabbed an ass-cheek and pulled to one side, suddenly smashing my drooling weapon deep inside her other hole.

(*by the gods...I can hear her scream from here!*)

The tightness of her ass was such that my balls could no longer hold off, and they began to shoot the largest load of my life, instantly overwhelming her writhing ass, the pressure popping her from my cock and dumping her with a crunch onto the other side of the bar. Roaring with white-hot fury I turned and pumped my huge cannon in both hands, firing leg-long sprays of boiling bull-spunk indiscriminately into the crowd.

The force of this load was preposterous, and where one of my shots struck a maiden’s face, her head snapped back clear to the floor...another salvo struck a tavern wench’s thigh and knocked the whole limb out from under her, collapsing her as well.

Wherever my white shots touched, patrons dropped to the floor, a shoulder-hit spinning one through the air before landing in the puddle of fuck-sauce, creamy blast to the stomach doubling one into the fetal position, a gunk-rope to the mouth totally blinding one so that she slipped to join the orgy of limbs writhing around in my mega potent pudding.

My nuts were bouncing from the force of each blast, and I tucked a couple of pretty faces comfortingly behind them as I continued to rain my white wrath upon the lusty audience. I picked the women out one by one, beckoning each forward to get a mouth full of Myrnotaur seed, feeding the patrons fuck stew by the bowlful.

When my 33rd shot had fired, finally tapering down to a finish, I was looking at an army of white faces and tits and limbs. The women were all connected to each other by thick, gooey strands of ball chowder, all cooing in ecstasy, all moaning and turning to devour it off of one another.

In the midst of this distraction, I picked the unconscious Valsivale up from behind the bar and slung her over a shoulder, my cream still dripping from both her holes.

Surveying the scene I clucked my tongue.

“I do not envy the human responsible for cleaning this place up.” Was all I said before taking my leave.


I dropped my marble, suddenly crying out in orgasm as I finished perceiving Oluth’s world. The guards holding me look astounded as I moaned, one hand squeezing the hell out of my right nipple as the other dropped to cup at my moistening pussy.

“What’s gotten into her?”

“The Myrnotaur must have broken her brain.”

“Wow, he turned her into a nymph.”

“I was back at the palace... that fucker has like a mile long dick.”


“I know. I can’t even look at my wife anymore. I just feel sort of ashamed and tiny.”

“Wait, don’t you have like a fat nine inch cock.”

“Yeah. Doesn’t help after seeing that...thing.”


“I know.”

Suddenly there was a thunderous crunch, and Oluth smashed through the wall right next to the table I was being held hostage at. The guards scattered like toys as he nimbly scooped me up and ran right across the room, smashing through the wall on the opposite side.

“You’ll pay for that!” Shouted what must have been the restaurant owner through the hole he left behind.

“NO I WON’T!” Oluth shot back, effortlessly striding with both the Enchantress and I under one arm.

“Take a left into that shop!” I pointed him towards the brassiere fitter’s place.

“Why?” He asked.

“Trust me just for once?” I offered, helplessly winded as my breast flopped in unrestrained motion from his mighty strides.

“Oh very well.” He grumbled, destroying yet more plaster as he entered the shop. I flailed my arms, grabbing the merchandise the tailor had set aside for me.

“WHAT THE HELL?” He screamed in the chaos.

Then our back was to that place.


Oluth breezed past Evarell in the street, who turned red and tried to look away from the Myrnotaur as he passed. I pointed towards the cell and against my better nature simply said, “Saela.”

The Myrnotaur turned, and kicked down the sturdy oak door of the prison before putting me and Valsivale down. I held the exhausted Enchantress’ head to my breast, actually feeling a pang of sympathy for her. The fact that I now knew she was attracted to me didn’t hurt either; flattery will get you everywhere with me.

The Jailor was getting sucked off for what must have been the sixth time by Saela as Oluth strode into the room. The little elf looked bored as she slobbered on his knob, bobbing her head just slightly and looking downcast as her chin easily plunged into his testicles.

The Jailor eyes grew huge as there was suddenly a soft cock over three times the size of his own in every dimension flopped out in comparison. Oluth grinned as he wagged his dangling manhood through Saela’s bars.

“Where does the line form?” He asked in jest. Saela looked up, love shining in her eyes as she spat the inferior prick out. It wilted almost instantly, like it was trying to escape from Oluth’s titanic sausage.

“Boy am I glad to suck—erm—I mean, see you!” She said as he casually brushed his elbow into the side of the Jailor’s head, knocking him out cold.

“You can do both.” He offered as he wrapped his hands around the bars and flexed his awesome pectorals to begin ripping them their frames.

She licked and slurped all over the head of his prick as he worked the bars free. The pangs of jealousy struck me again, so hard that Valsivale actually stirred in her sleep a little in response to the potent emotional wave.

“Come on Oluth, I know you can rip those out TWICE as fast as you’re doing it now!” I screeched at him from the doorway.

“Of course I can.” He echoed back, not picking up his pace at all as Saela danced her slippery little tongue along every inch of the underside of his cock.

I recoiled and pouted as he finished the task, grabbing Saela under his other arm before turning to scoop us both back where we were.

“Enough of Scarnia he asked?”

“Enough of Scarnia.” I agreed.


We ran on the open road, I using the marble to scrye on our various pursuers and anyone watching the procession would have found it quite a sight. One colossal, gorgeous, bull of a man running east with three maidens under his arm. After that, a lone woman with blonde hair, riding a black horse in pursuit, whoever she was. Following her, Syphaerel male with a couple of Aurks by his side. Then there were the two columns of my husband’s guards marching triple time to try and gain on us. Let us not leave out the contingent of city guards coming after Saela.

But worst of all the veritable avalanche of women. Oluth’s legend from the tavern it would seem had spread quickly, and to the rear of all our antagonists, there now swelled a hundred or more wanton, beautiful cockstunned wenches, each wanting her own little piece of My Minotaur.


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