My Minotaur Ch. 06

Oluth strode to join us, abruptly slapping his lengthy soft cock down onto my back, covering the whole of my spine with it over the Satyre's head. The Goat mean stared at it and blinked. The rumble of Oluth's voice came from behind him in a threatening, soft, growl.

"Mine's real. Yours isn't."

"I'll just go." Said the Satyre, humbled, even as his member still dripped with over an hour's worth of my gushing cunt's ejaculations.

As the blue-balled Satyre clip-clopped back into the forest, Oluth snorted. "I suppose you thought that was pretty impressive, hm Lady Ailara?"

I could barely whimper my response, "I...I have never been fucked like that in my whole life, Oluth. N-not even by you."

"That's true." He nodded. "That's because I've been holding back, remember? Let us give you a taste of what I can truly do."

My eyes nearly shot from my head, but my ravaged pussy pulsed eagerly. There is little else it thinks of these days, save for sex with Oluth.

"You look for too exhausted to start this off. Come here Saela; prepare me for this poor woman." He beckoned with a single huge finger.

Saela undulated her way to our position and took up residence between the great Bull's legs, worshipping her way across his balls and cock with dough-eyed reverence.

"How do they taste, today?" He asked.

"Potent milord. Full of thick cream and heavy." She managed between licks.

"Perhaps someday the selfish Ailara will be good enough to share with you hm? But this is her turn. She must know where I stand."

His yard of cock was now mostly stiff, and he let Saela give it a slow, slutty Elvin kiss goodbye before lying on his back. His long, strong arms reached out to lift me delicately and set my on his torso, my pelvis bucking a little to grind my clit on his rippling abdominal muscles, grating myself along them as a peasant washes its clothes. Do not dispute me dear reader, peasants are not like you and I, "it" is sufficient in all but the rarest cases with their ilk.

As my juices flowed in gushing rivulets down his ridges and valleys, making his muscles gleam, he leveled his tremendous cock for my face, slowly guiding my head down to suckle his tip. The lips Valsivale had granted me were most well-suited to the task of slathering across so ferocious a prick, and I smacked them sluttily as I slowly sunk him in.

He brought his huge tongue to bear, letting it slip from his mouth and lathe up and down my wet lips where my ass presented them to his face. So vast was his tongue, that he could lap the entirety of my netherlips with the middle of it and still flick a generous portion of its tip up to slap away at my clit, triggering a fast-mounting orgasm. I do not know how to explain it properly, dear reader, but if you will indulge me, even one orgasm from Oluth felt better than what I'd just endured at the hands of the Satyre. Something in his sureness, his strength, his skill, and his sheer masculinity brought me wholly out of myself and sent me sailing to be one with a universe of climactic delight. If what Valsivale and Byrzabyre could do was 'magic', then Oluth performed Miracles.

As he tongue-lashed my cunt, the great Bull then placed his fingers on the back of my head, locking them together and slowly exerting force downward, forcing my inadequate super-throat to take more and more of his cock. I was only halfway before it began to give me trouble, ripping great nasty gags and gobbets of precum and slobber from me, my drool poured down the underside of his shaft from my slutty lips, pooling in the vast cleavage betwixt his enormous testicles, mingling with the Elvin saliva that still moistened them, even now.

At the rate he shoved me, my nose was soon IN that puddle, making proper breath impossible, and I half drowned with his shaft ravaging my throat and the mess I was making being inhaled through my nostrils. Even as I squirmed uncomfortably, Oluth demonstrated another gift, making his tongue make two completely different motions at the same time, twisting back and forth between my gushing cunt-lips and slapping up and down on my clit. His speed increased and I came again, harder than I had all afternoon. I do not know what physicians would say of it, but something about losing the air I was losing only boosted the dream-like state of overwhelming erotic release.

Just when I thought I might lose consciousness he pulled my up by the forehead, allowing me a gasp and retching fit to unthroat the remainder of his presperm. I coughed the mess all over his cock, knowing this would please him, ground my pussy against his tongue, trying to prolong the orgasm for as long as possible. Oluth grinned, well-pleased and lifted me again, this time sitting slowly down onto the top of his cock.

I reached back and grabbed his horns for support, my tits splaying outwards as I gasped and trembled, slowly lowering myself down on the colossal column of cockmeat. As usual, it was like my womanhood had died a thousand little deaths, and gone on to a different, perfect heaven in each of these tiny afterlives. As I slid down, pussy-gobbling a preposterous amount of him, Oluth placed his palms upon the ground band arched his back slightly, seeming to set himself up for an optimal position.

Then he took off, and I saw what a pale and flaccid substitute magic was compared to the great Bull. His cock impaled and unsheathed from my pussy at a pace that made the Satyre's enhanced hips seem to move at a standstill. I was nowhere near taking all three feet of him, yet his balls still swung high enough to swat me right on the clit with each pump of his hips. I could not describe the sound of them as a slap or strike, because the speed with which his thrusts flung them was so great it was more of a blurred, constant noise, one I could not have imagined prior to experiencing it, and that my pen does me poor justice in trying to convey to you now.

Not that you could have heard the sound anyway. My own throat had found new strength despite the reaming it had received, the battering it had endured, and the endless wails my vocal chords had already produced this day. I do not know where my body found the resources to make more noise, but the noise it made could have driven a banshee away with fear. My howls of pleasure and insanity ricocheted off the tree trunks and echoed into the woods. Wherever the Satyre was, he was sure to know at this point that he was being thoroughly, completely, out-done.

And, dear reader, there was so much... fluid. Sweat beaded on my skin, and, perhaps since he was putting effort into it for the first time ever, Oluth's as well, beading to gleam on his gorgeous muscles. His precum gushed inside me, only to be rejected over and over, spilling down his cock at each withdrawal, mixing with the sopping product of my endlessly creaming gash to puddle across his tree-trunk thighs. Sweat and slobber burst from his balls in a spray of decadence each time his swelling nuts slapped home on my sex, speckling my already wet flesh with new lust.

Impossibly, his speed increased again as he stood with ease, spinning me run that perfect tongue across my chest as he drilled me only harder and better. His tongue slapped my wobbling tits all over my chest, replacing the sweat that collected there with his hot saliva, eyes clenched in concentration and pleasure as he poured himself into the magnificent fucking he was giving me.

The beast in him was out now. Savage. Wild. Dangerous. Devastating. He picked up the speed and bent me over while still holding my aloft with one hand bracing my belly now, his free hand moving to maul and spank my ass for his own selfish pleasure. There was a moment in this span that my pussy went completely numb, losing all sensation together, my mind somehow unable to process the sheer amount of feeling that overwhelmed it. But then, it all came flooding back, as if you've covered your ears moving from a quiet street to a noisy market and suddenly let it all pour in at once.

My world went white dear leader, and the last sight I remember seeing was Oluth's eyes widening at the sight of my pussy blasting out a jet of juice so forcefully it threatened to set me in flight... then all was black.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke I know not how long later. Saela was gently kneading my brow with a cool cloth. My whole body ached, my ravaged pussy practically packing its bags to take leave of me in protest. At the same time, I'd never felt more satiated or at peace with the world. I only smiled, feeling nothing but love for the little elf, like all the disdain and mean-ness had been fucked from my being. Of course it would not last, but I let her continue to work, saving my cruel barbs about her age and inferiority dissipate from me with ease. She spoke softly to me as she ministered to my brow.

"So I guess what happened, is that Valsivale and Byrzabyre dated a long time. Apparently, there was some disagreement between them about when their relationship actually ended. Byrz felt it was obviously in the Spring, and that when he took a new lover in the Autumn, Valsivale had no right to be upset. It is Valsivale's contention however, that Byrzabyre had not stated his intentions to withdraw from their courtship until the Winter, and that when she caught him stuffing his magically enhanced manhood into the local barmaid in the Summer, she had EVERY right to cancel the spell out, letting the wench experience how little he had to offer without the aid of enchantment."

"I see." I murmured.

"So he has sought vengeance against her ever since. But after today, he might be done. I think our Myrnotaur's kick shate--"

I cleared my throat abruptly and loudly, interrupting her.

"My Myrnotaur."

She scowled, correcting me and trying to continue her story. "No, OUR Myrnotaur and he--"

"MY MYRNOTAUR!" I shouted. This caused Oluth to peak into the tent.

"I belong to no one." He rumbled. "If you have no learned that by now, I believe I shall find a new way to teach you." He seemed to think. "Let's see...I've fucked you casually because that's how little effort it takes to pleasure you.... and I have taken you with effort to show you that not even magic can stand up to my prowess.... hmmmmm" He beckoned with a finger to someone outside the tent.

"Valsivale, the next time Lady Ailara is caught being selfish, you will imbue me with all the enhancements Byrzabyre gave the Satyre, and I will fuck her at full effort with them. Is this clear?"

"Yes milord." Valsivale answered. She wasn't one to take orders, but some sick part of her obviously just wanted to watch the show.

"Now then, Lady Ailara. What were you saying to Saela before she was so rudely interrupted?" He intoned.

I hung sighed as my whole face fell, feeling the throbbing sensation of my destroyed and ravaged cunt at each of my tiniest heart-beats.

"Our Myrnotaur, Saela." I said.

But oh, dear reader, how I lied when I said it.

End.

Continued in My Myrnotaur Part VII: In which Lady Ailara becomes a spectator.