The Minotaur

She pondered on this new information. The mural showed the beast as savage and evil, but that was obviously false. She wondered what else was not what it seemed. It would take time to pull answers from the Minotaur since he could not speak well, but she could think of nothing she would rather do.

He moved quietly but she still heard him approaching. She turned to face the archway as he entered, ducking slightly to keep his horns from hitting the stonework. Either the light was brighter here or she was becoming accustomed to it, because she could see him clearly now. His snout was extended, his nostrils large, but his eyes faced forward and not to the side as on a bull. His ears were pointed up behind the long horns with little tufts of hair at the ends. His skin was covered in a fine brown hair. But as always, she couldn't look away from his eyes.

He paused when he saw her, hesitant and unsure. She could see it in his eyes and she smiled. He was shy! Hard to believe such a fearsome creature could be so...adorable. One large hand was behind him, hiding something it seemed. He moved into the room toward Kasuma and held out his surprise to her.

It was a helmet, upside down and filled with dirt, and out of that dirt rose the strangest thing she had ever seen. They must have been mushrooms, but they were colored and ridged and fluted, bursting with detail. She had seen exotic birds at a travelling caravan once as a child. They were green and blue and red, all striking colors and wondrous textures. The beautiful fungus reminded her of that happy memory and she smiled wider. They did look like birds, almost.

"A gift?" He nodded, pushing the helmet/bowl toward her. She took it, her hands touching his for a brief moment.

"Thank you. They are beautiful."

He smiled, a strange, crooked thing that might have looked alarming had she not recognized it. He had powerful teeth, large pointed ripping spears near the front, the teeth of neither man nor bull. She should have been afraid, some small part of her realized. She let that part go unheeded.

"This is your story?" she asked, indicating the mural. He glanced at it, then seemed to shrink a bit in apprehension or guilt. Yes, he nodded.

"It shows you as a terrible monster, hunting and killing men. But that's not true, is it?" He hesitated, then shook his head, No.

"Was it ever true?" He moved to the marble slab that was his bed and sat, bringing his face level to hers. His eyes were sad as he slowly nodded. Yes, it was true once. He had been that monster.

"So you were the king who built this place, and this is your punishment?"

His eyes hardened, his brow fell, and a low rumble erupted from deep in the Minotaur's chest. His teeth bared in a snarl and he stood, flexing his muscles and clenching his fists. He glared at the woman who shied away from him, back across the room toward the archway. When he moved, she shrieked in fear and surprise at the speed and ferocity of his attack.

The first panel of the mural was pierced and shattered by his horn, the image of the cruel king destroyed. Kasuma huddled behind a column and watched. The minotaur pulled his horn loose, then gave a short burst of a roar at the ruined picture, then punched it for good measure, sending pieces flying and splintering away. He turned to look at her, then stabbed an angry finger where the king had been and shook his head.

He walked along the wall a few panels down. In this one, the king appeared to be gloating, surrounded by all his women, his treasures, his servants, his... The Minotaur placed a gentle finger on the mural, on a small figure standing next to the king who wore a thin gold band around his head.

"You were the king's son?" He nodded, Yes.

"And this isn't your punishment, it's his!" Yes. He shambled back to the slab and resumed his seat, head hanging low.

Her heart ached for the Minotaur, the young man cursed by the gods to wear this form and live in this underworld of loneliness and death. She used to think she was the most pitiful creature on earth, but now that thought made her feel selfish.

"How long have you been here?" The beast shrugged. He held his hands out, wide, wider, as wide as he could. A long, long time.

She longed to go to him, to comfort him, but what could she do? She had nothing to give, no wisdom to impart, no hidden knowledge of hidden beauty in this dark realm. In the slave pens she had been good for only one thing... Perhaps that would do? He was, after all, mostly a man, and she knew about men. But how would he react? Had he ever known a woman? She found the thought of being his first oddly thrilling, and somewhat more than that.

She pushed the helmet into the sand and moved to stand in front of him, just a few paces away. Then she began unlacing the rough cord that held her short vest closed. The knot came quickly apart and she let the dirty cloth fall to the ground. She pushed the rough skirt down off her hips and kicked it aside, then stood naked before the Minotaur. His eyes showed shock, fear even, and desire. He devoured her with his glittering ice blue eyes.

Kasuma felt powerful. Naked and armed only with her womanly charms, she felt in control as she never had. She moved toward him, making him visibly more nervous with each step. When she touched his knee with her finger he twitched, panic in his eyes.

"You saved my life. You set me free. You nearly died for me. Now let me do something for you." She reached between his legs, under the ragged cloth of the tunic and down further to find out how much of him was a man. What she found was more than manlike.

He was long and thick, more than any man she had encountered, and at her touch it lurched. She lifted its bulk and felt it grow larger and warmer. With her other hand she reached for the cloth and almost had her first look, but the Minotaur jumped away from her. He scrambled backwards across the slab and found his feet on the other side, holding a hand down over himself.

No, he swung his head side to side. No.

"Don't you want me? Am I not good enough?" Her self esteem plummeted. Was she too ruined, too spoiled even for a monster? Tears began to well up in her eyes and she felt great wracking sobs threaten to overtake her.

The Minotaur vaulted back to her and fell to his knees next to her in the sand. A gentle hand held her face close to his and he struggled to make himself understood. He pointed his snout at her and nodded, his eyes flickering between hers and searching for signs that she understood. He traced a finger down her cheek, her neck, down to her breast. But he snatched his hand back, becoming agitated.

"I don't understand."

"Grrrrrawph!" A frustrated noise burst from his lips. He leaned back from her a bit and looked around his lair for a moment. He held up both hands, flat toward her and making a patting motion downward.

Stay here.

He rose and ran out of the room. In a moment she heard a clatter of metal, as if an animal were loose in a giant kitchen. She wondered what clutter he might have down here to make such a noise. Quickly he returned.

In his hands he held a shield, round and stout, wide planks of wood banded in metal. He rapped his knuckles on it and it gave a solid thunk. He approached Kasuma and held it out to her.

"It's very heavy," she said, struggling under its bulk. He nodded and took it back, then stepped away.

The shield splintered and shattered, the metal banding twisted and popped its rivets, and with one massive flex of his shoulders the Minotaur destroyed it utterly. He came back to her, again on his knees to bring their faces together. He flexed his awesome arms in front of her, then held them out in supplication.

"You are strong."

Yes.

"You are worried that you will hurt me."

Yes.

She smiled warmly at him. She felt foolish for doubting him now. She held out her hand. He put his in hers. Well, on hers. She stepped back, pulling him to his feet, and moved him back to the slab. She pushed him and made him sit once more.

"You could hurt me. But you won't." She reached for the rope belt he wore and tugged at the knot holding it together. The rope was old, coarse and dry, but quickly enough it came loose. She peeled away the fabric coverings and in the strange glowing light she beheld him. He was enormous, long and beautiful. She wrapped her fingers around it and lifted, feeling its weight and heft. She moved her hands forward and back, gently stroking him.

The great beast leaned back and moaned, a deep lowing rumble that filled the cavern with the sound of need and desire.

It grew at her touch, longer and thicker and heavier. She pulled the skin back from the head and stroked its soft, tender surface with a gentle finger. He shuddered and moaned again. Her own desire began to manifest itself between her thighs. She had always before been taken by stronger men, used as they wished. Now, she held the strongest creature she had ever known in her hand, and he was hers. Her confidence swelled just as the organ in her hands.

He was trembling, his great muscles twitching below his skin and making him shudder. Sensations flowed through him that he had never known, but the dormant human need grew within him rapidly at her touch.

When he was ready, she stepped up onto the slab, one foot on each side of the sitting Minotaur. She reached out and grabbed the tuft of a beard under his chin and pulled him gently forward until he was sitting upright. His nose was between her heavy breasts and his eyes were just below hers. His senses were overwhelmed. His nostrils twitched and snuffled, taking in her scent, while his eyes darted between her face and her breasts, not sure what he was supposed to do. She held his face in her hands and leaned down to kiss him lightly on the nose. She steadied him and held his gaze.

"Be still. Let me do this."

She reached up and put a hand on one of his horns, then lowered herself. Her other hand found him and brought him to her opening. She took a deep breath, then began to settle her weight on his enormity. She was surprised at the strength of her own desire; she was terribly wet and her fluids eased his passage. She gasped as the head slipped in. She was already more full then she had ever been, but her lust grew by the moment and she knew she must continue.

He moaned, more plaintive now, his need more immediate and dire.

What started as a gift to him became a need for her. It had never been like this before, in any way. She lowered herself more, moving her hips forward and back, left and right, just enough to slowly descend on his magnificence. She lifted her other hand to hold him by the other horn and she held herself up, face to face with her lover. Her eyes were closed in concentration but he watched her intently, completely overcome with the sensations she gave him.

Left and right, forward and back, another inch passed her lips. Left and right, forward and back, her knees bent a little lower. Left and right, forward and back, she slowly engulfed him. Left and right, forward and back, until finally it was done. She let her full weight land upon his manhood. As she descended she felt his shuddering, rumbling groan vibrate through his body.

She sat in his lap, impaled and delirious, hands still hanging from his horns. Her body was wrapped so tightly around his enormous intrusion she felt like she might burst. She wondered if his climax might actually kill her, and found she barely cared. She pulled herself up a few inches, then let herself fall.

They cried out together in pleasure and pain, both of them travelling paths unknown. Again she lifted herself, feeling her skin grip him tightly. Again they cried out, again and again, filling the eldritch labyrinth with such noise as it had never heard.

When his moment arrived, he roared. He let loose a sound no man or god had ever heard, and in the city above him, the city built by his cruel and terrible father hundreds of years before, he was heard. Stones cracked and walls shuddered. Men and women stopped in their tracks. Children ran to their mothers. In the great arena, combat stopped and every eye went to the yawning maw of the pit. He sounded so near, so powerful, so primal and savage, that the gladiators dropped their weapons and ran to the gates of their pens, begging to go back to their cells. If ever any citizen of the great capital city had thought the beast below a myth, they never would again.

Kasuma collapsed in his arms, exhausted and spent. His seed erupted from him in wave after wave, filling her instantly and flowing out in great streams. He had not hurt her, as she knew he wouldn't. His heat spread through her body, his scent filled her head, his broad hairy chest tickled her face.

"Lift me up," she said softly. His hands wrapped around her torso below her breasts, and slowly he lifted her off of him. She still couldn't believe his size and he seemed to slither out of her for far too long, but finally he fell out and landed in a puddle of his issue with a loud splat. She giggled at the sound.

"Lie back. Just let me rest."

He did, and she lay atop him, his thunderous heartbeat a tender lullaby. His chest made a far better pillow than the slab. She slept.

She awoke with a start. Had there been a noise? A scream, perhaps? Or was it a dream? The Minotaur still lay below her, his arms wrapped gently over her naked body, but he was alert and awake. He moved her to the side, carefully setting her on the slab next to him, and rose. He looked odd. Bewildered, a little confused, a little...sheepish. She smiled at him and he smiled back, a bit more plainly and fully this time. She didn't even notice the bestial teeth anymore.

He motioned for her to follow him and took a few steps toward the main archway. She got up and joined him and they walked down the hall. He jumped a bit, startled, when her hand slithered into his, but soon enough he learned to enjoy it. Out into the great round room they went, toward a single, small figure on the floor. As they approached, Kasuma could see it was a gladiator, fallen from the pit. The ones from earlier were gone, and this was the only body.

"Did he just fall?"

Yes.

"Do any survive?"

He held two fingers very close together. Very few.

"What do you do with them?"

Follow.

He picked up the broken man, carrying him almost as he had carried Kasuma earlier. How long ago was that? She wasn't sure now. Time seemed very nebulous and unimportant down here. He headed off down a side passage and she followed closely, curious about their destination. It took many, many steps, but eventually he stopped. He laid the body down in the sand next to a metal shield. The shield was long and had a rounded bottom edge and was well worn from something. She soon saw what.

The Minotaur began to dig with the shield, burrowing down into the sand quickly by heaving large piles out into the middle of the passage. While he worked, Kasuma looked around and noticed something on the walls. There was writing, a small cluster of symbols at regular intervals, stretching back the way they had come. Above the hole he was digging the wall was clean.

"How can I help?"

He sat back and looked at her, thinking. He reached over to the body and tugged at the ragged breastplate.

"You want me to take his armor off?"

Yes.

While he finished digging the grave, she stripped the dead warrior of his armor, sandals and what ragged strips of cloth he called clothes. He had been a small man, weak and frail. He was just fodder for the real warriors. He was just a helpless slave like her.

When The Minotaur was done, he lifted the body and tucked it into the hole in the sand, folding him up neatly into a fetal position. Then he filled the hole with sand, covering the body completely. When he was done, he picked up a small, damaged dagger that Kasuma had not noticed, lying in the sand where the shield had been. He scratched symbols into the wall, the dead words she did not know. But she understood enough. He was giving the man a decent burial, as well as he could at least. And now that she understood what the markings meant, she looked back along the wall and saw that he had been doing this for a very long time.

This terrible beast, this fearsome monster, this horror of the deep that scared grown men, was nothing of the sort. He was kneeling in the sand, looking at her, his pale eyes searching her face. She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You are very kind."

He hung his head a little, then shook it slightly.

No, I'm not.

"You are. You gave this man the only gift he has had in who knows how long. You showed him a kindness that is rare in the sunlight. They leave the bodies of fallen gladiators in the arena through the night. They release terrible giant cats to eat the bodies. In the morning there are bones and blood to remind the new fighters what they face. When the girls like me are hurt or sick or old, they don't even give us a weapon. They just feed us to the animals. You are kind."

She moved closer and hugged him around the head. It was awkward with the horns and snout and all, but she found she enjoyed his dimensions. He was unique, and no woman in the whole of history could lay claim to what she had in her arms just then. He hugged her to him, and together they were silent and still for a time.

"I wish I could repay your kindness. I wish I had some gift for you."

He leaned back away from her, and made a motion with his hands, following the lines of her body. She smiled and blushed just a little.

"Well, you have a nice gift too."

She knew she couldn't see him blush but she had no doubt it was there.

"I just wish I could do more."

He cocked his head a bit and she felt like he held a special secret in his bright blue eyes. She thought she saw a smile on his rugged features. He reached out a thick finger and poked her very gently in the belly.

"I don't understand."

He put is palm on her tummy, almost covering it completely, then moved it out a bit, cupping his hand and making her look like she was...

"No, I..." A wave of emotion overpowered her. Why did he want that? She couldn't give him that. She could never have that! "I can't, I..." She stumbled over her words as she stumbled away from him, unbalanced and hurt by this unexpected request. She had cried herself dry in the dark a long time ago over the babies she would never have; she had let go of her own needs and learned to live one moment at a time. But now she had to crush his dreams as well and she couldn't face it.

"I can't!"

She ran back down the corridor, back the way they came, but that was not escape. How could she escape this? How could she run from herself, from him, from her past, from what they had done to her? She fell, weeping on the ground, all the old wounds ripped open so easily. She never expected to care enough about another person to feel such deep despair and she was helpless under the weight of the emotion. She could run and run and run but never get anywhere down here. She could never escape.

The Minotaur lifted her easily and cradled her in his arms as he had done before. Still she cried, unable to look up at him. She could feel him moving, walking, but she could not say or care where. She pressed her hands to her face as a mask of protection, so he could not see her, so she could not see him. The solace he sought to give her was as barren as her womb, a gift she could not receive. It only pushed her lower.

He put her down on a cold hard surface, the slab he used as a bed, the place where she would fail him the most. Then he left. She curled up into a ball and wept. She felt like she might never stop.

"Kha-ssshoo-ah." She ignored him.

"Kha-ssshoo-ah!" His anger she could face, but she still couldn't bear to let him see her.