I was writing a new Borderlands short and this happened during. The novella itself will appear probably next month, but hey. May as well give you all some milky minotaur fucking. All characters are 18 +. Enjoy!
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Anita sat in her room at the inn and nervously fiddled with the hem of her gown.
A single candle burned on the side table, every rivulet of wax melting down it a reminder of the hours and moments running past. She wasn't certain what she was waiting for. Wasn't positive why she knew it would come tonight. Here. At this late hour.
But she knew. Every instinct screamed that it would happen. Just what it was... well, she suspected she knew. And a quiet, sinful thrill coursed through her at the thought.
She'd hired the pair for the journey through the Borderlands, knowing that realm's reputation for danger and menace. Especially for a single woman. It was hard being an independent trader among the Inner Kingdoms, hence why she left those protected valleys and plains and made her way past the mountains, into the wild lands of the Borderlands where fortune availed itself to the brave. But she was under no illusions as to her personal safety. She needed a guard. And for the gold she had, few were willing to take on that task.
And then she'd met Avor and Janine.
She was wary at first. Of course she was. Agreeing to be accompanied by a monster instantly put her on her guard. And a minotaur no less! Though the male was large, powerful, with curling horns and a build that men would kill for and women swoon at, she couldn't get past the bristling fur that coated his muscled hide. His bestial muzzle, or the dark eyes that looked down at her inscrutably. But Janine was quite understanding. She explained everything very well. How the contract would work. Under what obligations Avor would work under. And... and Anita supposed she could trust another human in this. Janine was clearly not enthralled by the monster. She was dressed conservatively enough in a modest travelling gown. And if she could travel with the minotaur, Anita supposed she could too.
The deal had been struck and sealed with ink, and the three of them had set out.
Then things changed.
To be sure Janine and Avor fulfilled their ends of the contract perfectly. They acted as her bodyguards, never attempting to rob her or betray her. Keeping her safe on the road and at the odd village willing to trade. But no sooner were they on the road than Janine's conservative dress vanished. No longer did she bother with blouse and skirt. Instead she wore only a filmy silken loincloth that swished between her shapely thighs. Her breasts, heavy and proud, jutted from her chest in all their naked glory, nipples pierced with golden rings. Her body was coated in dark paint, swirling in savage patterns. Her ass was flawless, save a perfectly worked brand on her rear. Janine had caught Anita staring and explained.
"It's my master's mark."
"Master!" Anita gasped.
"Of course," Janine had giggled, gently stroking her brand, her eyes lidded in submissive joy. "My master marked me so that all might know to whom I belong. No woman can stay near a minotaur for long and not become his."
"You were-"
"Oh goodness no!" Janine had laughed, waving away Anita's concern. "No no! He would never force me. He doesn't need to. A woman can't help but be drawn to him. To yearn to submit to such a powerful male. It's inevitable."
Anita disliked the sound of that. But she didn't say anything about it, reasoning her best option was probably to just ignore it. A safe plan, but there was one problem.
And that was how, every night, as they set up to camp, Avor and his slave would make their way a short distance into the woods, and he would mate with her.
The sounds that came through the night were impossible to tune out. The moans and pants and screams of ecstasy from Janine's soft lips. "Yesss! Yes! Oh gods master! Yes! Fuck me! Take me! Nnnn! Breed meeeeee!"
On it went. Every night the same pleasured sounds. By day Janine would move as if not a thing had happened, but the reek of sex clung to her. The heavy scent of animal musk and pure male virility. It disturbed Anita. Particularly as she found herself increasingly straying near the pair when she knew she should keep away. Letting that scent surround her. Seep into her. How her every breath came in small gasps. How her head began to spin.
Then, two nights ago, she took a step she knew she shouldn't.
Janine had been sitting near her after dinner. Avor had wandered off, leaving the pair alone. The minotaur's slut looked to Anita and smiled. "Anita, dear," the woman said, hefting one of her heavy breasts. "Could you give me a hand? I've been feeling... awfully pent up lately."
"Wh-what?" Anita said.
