Bred by the Centaur Ch. 01

Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of fictional mind control, rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.

When my parents were poisoned six months ago, they left behind three daughters and a vast country to mourn them. Due to the unfortunate fact that they failed to conceive an heir, otherwise known as a son, my father's cutthroat younger brother assumed the throne.

I didn't know how to cope with everything that had happened. I became the thief responsible for the kitchen's missing wine storage, drinking myself to sleep in various places throughout the castle -- on the roof beneath the stars, in the library between the bookshelves, in the kennel beside the puppies. I envied my two older sisters for the way they handled the death of our parents. They dressed every day in their usual gowns and jewels, walked the halls of the castle with poise and grace, and attended to their royal duties with unwavering commitment. I was the not-so-well-adjusted sister.

This morning was particularly embarrassing. My uncle, the newly anointed king, had gone for a morning stroll through the royal gardens with several members of his court. Of course, he couldn't have known that he'd find his troublesome young niece vomiting her guts into an immaculately trimmed rosebush just past the water fountain. I was a mess of tangled hair and racoon eyes, not to mention the sizeable rip in my pantyhose from when I'd spread my legs for the barkeep the night before. The lords and ladies of my uncle's court had gasped in shock, and someone observed quite loudly that I looked as though I'd just "crawled out of a gutter".

My uncle's face had turned a shade of red that could've given any tomato a run for its money.

My uncle's assistant quickly scooped me up and hauled my sorry behind to the handmaids' quarters, where I was stripped naked, scrubbed clean, and dressed in proper clothes. The handmaids flitted around me with narrow eyes and pursed lips, holding back their judgement. I didn't let it bother me. As Bertha yanked a brush through my tangled, straw-colored hair, she hissed at me, "You've really done it this time, miss."

I ignored the handmaid's comments. After I was bathed and dressed, I attempted to sneak back to my bedchamber where I fully intended to sleep the day away but was intercepted by a pair of guards.

"The king would like a word," they informed me. I briefly considered running away, but I knew that a hundred-and-fifteen-pound girl in a corset was no match for two burly guards with orders not to let me get away.

We arrived at my uncle's office. A short, red-faced man with a permanent scowl living beneath his squashed nose sat patiently behind a wooden desk. My beloved uncle.

I sat in the chair opposite of him and waited. I noticed a glass of dark liquid clutched in his right hand. Perhaps Betha was right, and I had really done it this time.

A vein in my uncle's forehead threatened to burst. "You made me look like a fool today, Gwenyth."

"I'm sorry, uncle."

"Can you not at least contain your activities to your bedchamber?"

I opened my mouth to remind him of all the trauma I was currently dealing with, but he interrupted me.

"We are at war," my uncle reminded me. "Your older sisters have done the responsible thing and married powerful lords with sizeable armies. The thing we need most right now is allies. And what have you done? When you aren't drinking yourself to death, you're out flouncing around the village like some common whore."

My blood began to boil. "Fine then," I snapped. "I'll marry a lord. Just pick someone and be done with it!" Honestly, if a wealthy lord wanted to whisk me away to a foreign land and make me his bride, that was fine by me. At least I would be far away from this place that reminded me so much of my parents. And more importantly, I would be far away from my despicable swine of an uncle.

My uncle threw his hands in the air. "Do you think I haven't tried? Nobody wants to marry a sloppy, lazy princess! You're twenty-one years of age, for fuck's sake! You should have been wed off years ago! You should have popped out at least three children by now! But look at you. An embarrassment."

I was quiet. I was not at all suited for the life he described, and I never would be.

He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. "Perhaps a proper punishment will correct your bad behavior. How else will you learn your place in this house?"

I instinctually sat back in my chair, repelled by my uncle's sudden threat. My blood sang with a warning to get away, but one glance over my shoulder confirmed the presence of the two immovable guards standing by the door.

Cruelty washed over my uncle's sagging face. "If you're going to act like a drunken whore, then you'll be treated like one." There was a moment of silence while we stared at each other before he called, "Guards? Take her to the stables."

Strong hands gripped each of my arms as I was promptly lifted out of my chair and dragged from my uncle's office. At first, I was too shocked to cry for help, but as I was dragged through the hidden passageways of the castle -- so that nobody would see or hear me -- I let loose a blood-curling scream that burned my lungs and hopefully shattered glass somewhere.

We crossed the grounds to the royal stables. The blinding light of the afternoon sun hurt my eyes. I wondered if the guards would lock me up with the horses and make me live like an animal for a week. Surely my uncle would find amusement in such a punishment.

I paled as I realized we were headed toward the centaur stables. The place smelled of dust and muck, a scent that alerted me to the presence of beasts.

Centaurs are skilled warriors who make for better killers than humans on the battlefield, and for that reason, they comprise a large portion of my uncle's army. Those who have been wounded in battle are returned to the castle grounds until they are fully healed. This fact did little to comfort me; even a centaur not at his full strength is still far more dangerous than a man with a sword.

We passed two dozen stalls containing the country's deadliest killers. A few of them whistled at me, others banged against their stalls. "It's mating season," one of the guards informed me. "They've been a bit more belligerent than usual." The guard's wicked smile sent chills up my spine.

I whimpered as we approached the very last stall.

"The king selected the meanest one for you. The ole boy's a real savage. You're going to help him work out some of that stress."

The centaur bucked wildly, slamming his body up against the stall, clearly very unhappy with his tight quarters. To my horror, the guards opened the stall door and shoved me inside. I didn't get a good look at the beast before the guards forced me to my hands and knees and positioned me so that my backside faced the centaur. One of the guards pressed his boot between my shoulder blades to keep me planted firmly on the ground, ass in the air, totally at their mercy.

Up until this point, I was in denial about how far my uncle would go to punish me. What kind of man would let a savage centaur defile his innocent niece?

Two hooves planted themselves firmly on either side of my head. I looked up to find a broad, soft underbelly blocking out what little light streamed through stables. The fact that I could only see the horse-half of his body and not the human half made me feel like an animal myself. Panic set in when I glanced over my shoulder and beheld the monstrosity swinging between the centaur's hind legs. It had to be nearly a foot in length. A bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip. It throbbed angrily, driven by the urge to mate, ready to plant itself in a warm, wet place despite being forced into such a cruel predicament on the king's orders.

There was a sound of fabric being torn as the guards ripped my dress and tore away my panties. A cool breeze hit my exposed nether region, sending goosebumps across my body. The guards presented my cunt to the centaur on a silver platter and the beast wasted no time in claiming his prize.

His pre-cum provided enough lubricant for him to part my lower lips with ease. The penetration was slow and deliberate, every inch a reminder that there would be no escaping this. I screamed as the pain of being stretched by a horsecock nearly split me in half. "Please, make it stop!" I begged, tears streaming down my face, but the guards only laughed, and the centaur continued to push himself inside of me until he'd bottomed out. He stilled for a few moments to allow my body time to adjust.

He withdrew from me slowly, and for a moment I was able to breathe. The tip of his cock lingered at my entrance, nudging against my clit, before plunging back in with a single push and forcing a scream from my lips. He repeated this motion several times, sliding all the way out before filling me up again, until my walls adjusted, and it became easier to take him. Some of the pain subsided and I forced myself to relax.

To my horror, I felt myself growing wet. I instinctually spread my legs further apart to allow him better access to my needy little hole. Oh, how far I'd fallen, to enjoy being fucked by a savage beast.

The centaur was pleased by my willingness, if his grunts of approval were of any indication.

He didn't go easy on me. This was supposed to be a punishment, after all. I could tell the exact moment the instinct to mate overcame him, for he began pumping into me with such force, I had to really dig my hands into the ground to keep my body from sliding forward. I moaned loudly, forgetting entirely that I had an audience.

"I think the princess is enjoying it!"

"Look at her little pink cunt gushing all over the place!"

I did my best to block out the sound of the guards' laughing and jeering. All that mattered was the massive slab of meat pumping in and out of me in forceful thrusts, and the two hairy balls slapping against my swollen clit. I was horrified at the thought of having an orgasm in front of the two guards, but the unbearable heat building between my thighs could not be quenched. It was going to happen whether I liked it or not.

"Are you going to cum for us, princess?" sneered one of the guards. The other guard let out a high-pitched whistle that echoed through the stables. "That will be a first! What a little slut you are!"

It was on the floor of those filthy stables, in front of the guards and two dozen centaurs, that I had the best orgasm of my life. The heat between my legs exploded and I came so hard I saw stars.

The centaur continued to fuck me while I spasmed all over his cock. Even as my climax faded, he did not relent, clearly trying to force another out of me. Only when I was screaming through a second orgasm did he finally let himself go.

He let out a roar that shook the stables as he shot his cum into my belly. An impressive amount of liquid splattered against my cervix, prompting aftershocks that had me whimpering in a puddle of my own fluids.

The centaur withdrew from me at the same time the guards released their hold, leaving me empty and disoriented on the filthy stable floor. Everything hit me all at once -- the hot summer temperature, the scratchy straw against my skin, the guard's fading laughter. The centaur's cum leaked out of me. I didn't trust that I could stand without falling over. I was as helpless as a newborn kitten without any sense of direction.

I heard low murmuring from the surrounding stalls, and I suddenly remembered the presence of the other centaurs. They had clearly witnessed the raucous coupling that had just taken place on this otherwise quiet afternoon. Some were laughing, some were simply staring. Some were wondering when they would get their turn at the princess.

I flipped over onto my back and raised my head so that I could get a look at the beast who'd fucked me senseless.

From the waist up was a very handsome man. His dark, shoulder-length curls were the same shade of charcoal as the horse-half of his body. His smooth, tan skin was interrupted by a crude looking scar that sliced across his muscular abdomen. He wasn't laughing or smirking like I thought he might be. His large body dominated the small space, and I was intimidated by the sheer size of him. It was easy to imagine him on the battlefield, sword in hand, tearing through enemies like they were mere objects in his path. His cock still glistened with my fluids.

At first glance, his expression was one of complete disinterest, as if I were nothing more than an interruption to his day, a faceless body to provide a shred of relief during this difficult mating season. But I spotted a glimmer of curiosity as those dark eyes roamed my half-naked body. His fixation on the wet mess between my legs reminded me that I'd yet to yank my dress back into place.

He turned his attention to the bandages on his right hand. An injury from the war, I assumed. He said, without looking at me, "Run back to the castle and clean yourself up, little princess. I trust that you'll be on your best behavior from now on."