Page 10 of Breeding Season
You’re not my King.
I couldn’t even say the words.
I searched for the fury, for the fight, so I could spit another curse, but my mouth was too dry, my tongue too thick, the haze of sleep crushing my body, threatening to take me under. I was a broken bundle of nerves, utterly helpless and drowning in the shameful relief of his size.
He moved, shifting his weight with sudden, brutal force. A shock of deep, unyielding pressure slammed into me. I gasped, the air sucked from my lungs as he buried his entire mass again. I lay sprawled beneath him as he fucked me. My body jolting with each thrust of his thighs as a terrifying finality pushed against the walls of my core.
I might not be able to escape.
Weakness leaked through in my exhaustion.
He held me tight, his snout above my head as he rutted into me with a desperate, guttural sound. My body had no choice but to take every piston of his hips. He grunted above me. I wanted to reach out and hold on to him, but my arms pulsed with something I couldn’t explain.
“Please, I need to pee,” I cried. The sudden urge built to an overwhelming degree. I needed to go.
“Then go,” he growled as his hips lifted off and pounded into me so hard I saw stars. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. The floodgates opened and I went as I came, the shockinglyhot gush instantly spreading beneath me. My body twitched, overwhelmed by the sweet, devastating relief.
I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t think.
He was thrusting into me, taking everything. I was too exhausted to feel shame. Something else changed deep inside–a widening, a thickening, an immense ball doubling in size above my cervix.
“Fuck!” I whimpered as something locked above my cervix. I came. I came so fucking hard, and I felt so full I wanted to throw up. A silent scream tore from my lips as I was filled beyond capacity.
The mark at my navel exploded as my vision went white. There was no pain now, no pleasure: only the terrifying emptiness of absolute obedience.
The pressure was bone-deep, final, inescapable. My vision cleared, and there was nothing but his face—dark, triumphant, and approving.
I belong to him now, body and broken mind.
My world shattered, and everything went black.
Submit
Pele
Sunlight poured into the room, and I found myself draped over the Taur’s massive stomach. My face pressed into the thick fur of his chest, which slowly and powerfully surged with every breath. My fingers, trapped beneath his massive arm, twitched with helplessness. My mind was a thick, sluggish mess, but my body instantly recognized the fullness in me. Being on top meant nothing. There would be no escape: I was still locked. His cocks were a physical cage that made any movement, any thought of escape, impossible.
He was asleep, but I could feel him just beneath the surface. A curse. For someone so unwilling, I felt an annoying sense of peace. I needed to remember that I was his prisoner. He slept beneath me on a bed of furs. Movement in the corner made me jolt. Two figures, not Minotaurs, but tall, slender women. Cloaked in deep leather, their faces obscured by the shadows. They were bent over, focused on cleaning. My gaze trailed to the floor, and my face heated as I took in the puddles of fluid. His cum mixed with the shameful evidence of my absolute loss of control. One knelt, her hand swirling as she cleaned the stone floor where the worst of the mess had collected—beneath the chute. The other straightened and approached the bed with buckets and thick, rough cloths.
Kill me now.
Our eyes locked for a brief second before she lowered hers. A wave of shame washed over me. The evidence of my shattering, of my failure. I swallowed down the urge to beg for help. These two women were special enough to walk around. My gaze trailed around the room. They were without Herders, without supervision, without chains.
The attendant closest to me stopped beside the large mass of furs. Her gaze flickered between my legs, where he was still inside me. Shame-riddled, I avoided eye contact. My dress was up to my waist and I was exposed. She reached for me, her hand extended as I felt a foreign spike of icy, possessive anger erupt from the body beneath me. I don’t know how, but I knew it was him.
A deep, warning growl reverberated beneath me. The woman froze, her hand inches from me. As the growling stopped, Taur’s eyes slit open, blown out pools fixed on the woman. Despite her face being covered, her eyes filled with panic as she flinched. She dropped the cloth, lowered her head, and immediately stepped back.
“The Mát requires cleaning, my King,” she whispered, her voice tight and subservient.
Taur rose to a sitting position, my body slid down his, and his thick cock pulled from me with a heavy, wet release. The only sound in the room came from the liquid spilling from me. I ignored the fucked up part of me that grieved the loss of him as I held on to him. My legs sprawled on both sides of his hips as I kept my face buried in his chest. In this situation, this fucked up situation, I was too ashamed to look at anyone right now.
His nostrils flared and tousled my hair. A chilling possessiveness ran through me.
“No one touches what’s mine. Remove the soiled furs and clean the floor. Leave the rest of the supplies here.” He raisedhis hand, dismissing them. A tingle ran down my spine, and I ignored the warmth that flared in my chest.
Yeah, no Stockholm Syndrome for the monster, Pele.
