Minotaur Escort Obliterates Me

"Alright, just sign here, here, and here." The woman slides the paperwork across her desk, turning it around to face me. I flip through the pages with shaky hands. Safety guidelines, safe words, guaranteed satisfaction, confidentiality clauses. All right there in black and white.

I thought I'd be more nervous, but reading through the contract makes me feel better. I swallow, initialing beside each yellow tab, before sliding the paperwork back to her.

"Alright. There's nothing else you need to do, so just go home, try to relax, and he'll come to you. Your window is two weeks."

"Do I... I mean, I know it's what I signed up for, but will he give me any warning or heads up that he's on his way?"

The woman smiles warmly, clasping her hands on the desk between us, and leans in. "Ms. Clair, part of your request, and the experience, is the surprise element. He can inform you when he's on his way if that's something you need, but I think it'll take away from the experience. Don't worry. Trust us. We have an excellent rating. You've read all the testimonials. Our monsters have worked with many humans, and we're pairing you with our most prized minotaur. He'll take good care of you."

I blush at her last statement, and she winks.

When I first heard about this company, a monster-only escort and fantasy fulfillment center, I'd been intrigued. But then I found their list of services and my head swam with all the possibilities.

A veritable checklist of sex acts, role-play scenes, BDSM, and even a selection of monsters to choose from. I'd started checking off every possibility until I reluctantly acknowledged I was in way over my head and had to start over.

In the end, I chose a minotaur. His profile picture was terrifying. A massive monster, with wide grey horns curling out of his temples, the face of a snarling beast. With the body of a man, he had thick thighs, an expansive chest, and the bulging arms of a warrior. He was holding a log in the picture, and in the next shot, the trunk swung over his shoulder, showing off his enormous strength. He could kill me in an instant. That was what I was looking for. To be scared. To be taken, to have my control stripped away by a beast so big and terrifying. Consensual non-consent, they call it.

I felt ashamed for wanting it, for even thinking it. But work's been so stressful, and frankly, something's been off in my love life for a while. I couldn't name it before, not until I overheard my co-worker in the breakroom gossiping on the phone to one of her friends about the Monster Fulfillment Center. A mutual friend of theirs went, and she described in detail what they did and how sick a human had to be to want to go to a place like that.

Me. I'm that person.

I eavesdropped, then immediately rushed back to my desk and scribbled down everything she said. That night, when I'd gotten home from work, I looked them up, made an appointment, filled out a checklist, and the rest just fell into place.

The office was warm and comforting. A human woman ran the front desk, never flinching or making me feel like my requests were too out there. Maybe they weren't. It didn't matter to her, and that's all that I needed to feel at ease.

So, I signed the paperwork and went home, and waited anxiously for my fantasies to come to life. Because of my request, I had no idea when the minotaur--Jax was his name--would come to me, and though it was frustrating, the not-knowing, the waiting, was part of the excitement.

I made breakfast. I went to work. I went home. I made dinner. For over a week, I laid awake at night, and when he didn't show, I closed my eyes, masturbated, coming briefly, and wondered if maybe this was all life had to offer. Unfulfilled orgasms and loneliness. Rinse and repeat.

Each night Jax didn't show got harder. And when Friday night, nearing the end of our time window, came and went, my disappointment rocketed. I thought for sure he'd come, giving me a full weekend of recovery for whatever he had in store.

Saturday, same thing.

Sunday morning, I woke up alone in bed, just like every other day. I got up, worked out, showered, made breakfast. All the while, that anxious feeling slithered in my veins. I was restless. Needy. Anxious.

Horny and wet and empty.

So fucking empty.

By Sunday afternoon, I sat alone in my quiet apartment, looking out the window at my neighbors coming and going, and debated if I should just call the center in the morning and cancel. The waiting was becoming unbearable. It hadn't quite been two weeks, sure, but I stayed up so late listening for sounds of Jax that I was barely sleeping. I was tired, wired, and worst of all--disappointed.

Deciding I couldn't just sit around and wait any longer, I got out of the apartment. It took all of my willpower to skip the toy store, knowing another vibrator wouldn't give me what I needed. I went to the market instead. I saw an orc couple, the humans around them giving them a wide berth. The orcs towered over the humans, like most monsters did. Their green skin and tusks set them even further apart from the rest of us. Meanwhile, my horny ass just wanted to follow them home and ask if I could watch them fuck.

I thought I caught a glimpse of a minotaur, but when I turned to get a better look, he was gone. It seems impossible that a monster that large could move so quickly, but it didn't stop me from hurrying down the aisle to see if I could find him, but there was no one there.

Something was wrong with me. I scrubbed a hand over my face, paid for the groceries, and made my way home. I went to bed early for the first time in a while, disappointment crushing my spirits, passing out not long after the sun went down.

Something woke me from a deep sleep.

I rubbed my eyes, wondering what the noise was that startled me awake. Props to the center, because it honestly took me a minute to figure out what the fuck was going on. The shadowy outline of the minotaur in my bedroom, tall, horns, wide shoulders, had me screaming before he was on me, his massive palm wrapped around my mouth, silencing me.

"Shut the fuck up," he growled. My heart started racing as his claws bit into my cheek, his hand silencing me completely, his massive weight overwhelming as he pressed me into the mattress.

My eyes darted around, cataloging his terrifying features. The horns jutting out of the side of his head, his bullnose ring, and vicious maw with snarling, snapping, sharp teeth, too close for comfort. Closer than I've ever been to a monster.

Scrambling against his hold, I try to wiggle away from him, my betraying pussy already slippery with need, my pelvis pressing up, seeking relief, but I don't stop struggling.

"If you scream again, I'll slit your fucking throat. Then I'll shove my cock deep in the gaping wound and come while you bleed to death."

His voice is rough, and there's a promise of violence in his eyes. His fingers curl in, claws scratching my skin. I wouldn't be surprised if they left a small trail of blood.

Then he releases, and I gasp for breath, eyes watering from fear and the pressure of his intensity weighing over me.

"I--" I start, but he reaches back and slaps me across the face. It stings, and I cry out.

"I said, shut the fuck up." Then he climbs off me, grabs my blanket, and rips it off the bed. Grabbing each of my ankles, he drags me effortlessly to the edge of the bed, then grips the tops of my pajama pants and rips them in half. The material digs into my skin as he tears it off my body, doing the same to my shirt.

"Please, I'm not sure--" Slap! My cheek stings after he slaps my other cheek. Hard enough to sting, maybe not hard enough to bruise. Panic blooms. I try to remember all the things I asked for, but my head is swimming the same way it did when I read through all the options. I was a glutton two weeks ago, checking things off like a fucking starving woman at an Italian restaurant.

I'll have one of these, and one of these.

Did I ask for this? I can't remember. But he's huge. If he was really trying to hurt me, a slap from a minotaur would surely knock me out cold, not just sting. My cheek burns a little, and he stands tall at the end of my bed, admiring his handiwork.

"Jax?" I whisper, scared to get slapped again. But what if this is another minotaur? What if I'm just unlucky and this isn't the escort I paid for, and instead, an intruder here to actually rape and kill me? I'm completely at his mercy and terrified. Fuck, I'm horny, too.

The minotaur--Jax, hopefully--scratches his wide jaw with his claw-tipped fingers. I notice for the first time that he's shirtless. The light streaming into my bedroom from the streets highlights his impressive figure. Broad-shouldered, muscles ripped, but in a big, bulky way. Barrel-chested, the kind of body fit for manual labor. I can see him easily throwing a tree trunk over his shoulder, like the one from his profile picture.

He sighs. "You don't listen, mouse. You're a very bad girl."

I swallow audibly and attempt to scramble backward on the bed, but he grips my ankle roughly and pulls me back.

He continues, "I told you to shut the fuck up. Three times now. And still, you keep working that fucking mouth. I told you what I'd do, didn't I? I warned you."

He works his belt, making an elaborate show of unlocking the metal. Slowly, he opens his pants, dropping them down and kicking them off to the side.

I think, even if the room was nothing but shadows, I'd be able to see his cock. It's that big. Swaying between his legs, bobbing with each movement. I can't take my eyes off it. I'm dripping, aching with need for it.

Jax wastes no time climbing back over me. He spreads my knees wide, and my pussy clenches in anticipation. Like he can smell the flood, he chuckles. "You don't get rewards unless you behave, little mouse." With my knees wide, Jax slaps my thigh with an open palm. Hard. Harder than when he slapped my cheek.

I wince against the pain, but I don't have time to register it before he slaps my other thigh.

"Ah!" I cry out, but now my thighs are throbbing, legs spread wide, and he's still chuckling like this is nothing but a game to him. Then, in one move, he rips my underwear, the same way he did my pants, and tosses the material aside. I wore a bralette to bed, now the only thing left to give me any modesty. Useless against him.

Jax takes a deep inhale, breathing in my scent. "You may speak when I give you permission. Do you understand?"

I pause, unsure if this counts as permission. I nod yes, just to be safe. Then, with an open palm, fingers flat, he slaps my pussy, stinging my clit. I can't help it, I cry out again.

"Good girl."

I guess I can cry out and whimper. I just can't talk. Sucking in a shaky breath, my nerve endings humming with need, sensitive from the slapping, pussy dripping, Jax rewards me again. He slaps my clit, harder, and the sharp pain makes me want to pull my knees in, to rub them together, to get any kind of friction, but he's kneeling between my legs, an immovable wall.

"When I broke into your apartment tonight, I intended to raid the place. Steal some of your fine possessions. But then I caught the scent of your sweet pussy and I just couldn't resist taking something even better. Now, I don't feel like dealing with the cops or nosy neighbors. They don't need to know I broke in here and intend to beat this pussy into submission. So when I tell you to shut the fuck up, I mean it. Do you understand? You may speak."

"Y-yes," I whisper. Lying on my back, knees splayed wide, this monstrous minotaur between my thighs, pussy still dripping, I can't help but wonder if I've gone insane.

"Good girl. No more talking. We still have a punishment to deal with. Since I intend to play with you for a while, I'm not going to kill you yet. But you're still going to choke on my cock. If you feel death clamoring, you may pinch my thigh. But I'll warn you... if you tap out before I come, you will be punished. Do you understand, little mouse? You may speak."

Tears spring from my eyes. I don't enjoy sucking on dicks. I never have. I don't think this was on the questionnaire, was it? I can't remember. I don't know what to do. I have my safe word, but this is beginning to feel real. Really real.

Debating what to say: yes, no, maybe, I don't know, fuck you, Jax slaps my pussy again and my abdomen tenses at the surprise. That actually hurt. Tears leak from my eyes, a current of anxiety and fear spilling out of me, but Jax only laughs.

"I asked you a fucking question, mouse." Climbing up to his knees, he strokes his cock, the massive length swinging so close to my face, my throat closes up with nerves. "I said, do you understand? Speak!"

My lips press together before the words spill out unwillingly. "I-I... Umm... Okay. I just... I'm scared," I whisper.

If I thought for a moment that Jax--my hired escort who is supposed to take care of me--might take a moment to reassure me, I quickly learn how wrong I am. Instead, he just laughs, adjusts himself on the bed, grips my chin, and works my jaw open with his meaty fingers. The strange shape of his cock: flat at the tip, thick and wide, with a ropey ring around the head, invades my mouth as he pushes in, forcing me to unhinge my jaw.

I almost clamp down my teeth, before he pauses, the tip breaching my open mouth, an inch or two, my tongue feeling the soft, veiny texture as it slides past.

"If you bite, I bite back. Remember that." Then he pushes in. I gag, but he works himself out before pushing back in again, more slowly. "That's it, mouse. Let me in. Let me in and I'll let you live. For now."

In and out he works his cock, only a few inches at a time. My jaw is still tense around him, but each time he thrusts back in, I relax a little more. The more I accept him, the more he encourages me. Praises me.

"Good girl, mouse. Such a good girl." The praise lights me up. His fingers gently caress my throat, stroking in a downward motion, as if to indicate how deep he intends to bury his cock. My jaw gets sore, tears still leaking from my eyes, but as I let him work himself in and out of my mouth, I close my eyes, take a deep breath through my nose and try to remember how I got here.

And the more I think about the shame I felt around other people for my interests, the more enraged I get, angry at the world for making me feel this way, angry at everyone for making me think I was alone in this.

But I'm not alone.

Jax is here, fucking my throat, because I'm not the only person--creature--in the world with proclivities.

My rage helps me fight through the discomfort. My already aching jaw spreads open wide, and Jax huffs in appreciation. I decide I want to please him, so, steeling my nerves, I relax my throat and work my tongue against his shaft as he pumps.

It's choking me, like he promised. I have to breathe through my nose. I feel every thick inch of him invade my mouth, my throat, shoving in and out without a care for my comfort. The flat, blunt head hits the back of my throat like a battering ram.

"That's so good. Such a good girl, just like that. Now, open your throat a little more." Without waiting for me to be ready, he pushes in deeper. I gag, but my mouth reflexively tightening around him only makes him grunt and thrust deeper. Faster.

Before I know it, he's fucking me, and I can barely breathe through it. My hands come to his thighs and I hold on for dear life while he fucks me harder. I'm gagging, crying, spit spilling out of my mouth while he grunts and takes me forcefully.

"You're going to swallow my cum, little mouse. I'm going to fill your belly with my seed, and you're going to shut the fuck up and take it," he huffs and pumps faster. I cry and slap his legs. I remember absently that I could end all this with a pinch of his thigh.

But I want it, too. I can't explain why. My fingers curl around the backs of his tree-trunk thighs, fingertips digging into his flexing ass cheeks. To encourage him, or to hold on for dear life, I don't know.

He grunts, then his thrusts become erratic. Wild. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck, yes. That's it, little mouse. Take it. Take it!" He comes with a roar. I hear it first, the rumble deep in his chest. His ass clenches tight in my hands and then I feel it. His cum spills down my throat, and Jax bellows out. He's so deep I can't even taste it, but I feel the warmth spraying, coating inside me.

With a shudder, his cum slows to a trickle, cock softening only slightly, before he pulls out. I start coughing the moment he releases me, and Jax surprises me by cooing praise, gently stroking my throat. It feels raw and burned, but the praise calms me. He licks the tears from my cheeks, his long, textured tongue lapping up my pain. Not to take it away, or even to ease it, but to taste it.

"That was so good, mouse. You took me so well."

I'm still shaking, from the adrenaline, the intensity, the still empty, aching need in my pussy. From the cold, since I'm almost completely naked, and this giant minotaur just broke into my apartment, stripped me naked, then throat-fucked me.

Jax gets up off the bed, and I lie there, stunned, unsure what to do next, when he returns with a glass of water from the kitchen. Leaning beside me, he strokes the back of his hand over my cheek reverently. The move confuses me.

"Drink, mouse. You deserve it."

I sniffle and try to sit up. He helps me, and I'm glad we're taking a break. Tentatively, I take the water and take a hefty gulp. The water burns my bruised throat, and I cough it back up, but try again. Eventually, the cool water soothes, and I finish the glass.

I can see Jax better now. My eyes have adapted to the dark room, the light from the streets, the shadows lifting their darkness, offering a better view. He's strange looking. So monstrous, yet so human. A little of both. His skin appears dark brown, his horns a light pewter grey. The gold ring in his nose gleams.

I try to be brave. To power through. But Jax can tell I'm struggling. "You can speak, Cara."

My eyes widen in surprise. "Are we... I mean, can we break the scene for a second?"

"Of course. Safe word?"

"Popsicle."

Jax smiles. "Good girl. Always use it if you need it. Are you alright, though?" His finger trails my throat again. I shiver beneath his touch.

And all that fear and pain, the worry, the panic... it all fades away. Not because we've broken the scene, but because it gave me the exact outcome I needed. I got to feel all of that intensity, but had control the entire time. He proves it by asking if I'd like more water, and can he get me anything else?

I shake my head no.

My adrenaline is crashing, but I don't want it to fade completely. So, I set the glass on my bedside table and turn to him.

"I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I say confidently. He nods once.

"Good girl." Then grabs me and shoves me down onto the mattress, grips my bralette and tears it in half. I make a sound of dissent, because he ruined yet another piece of clothing, but Jax growls, then pinches both my nipples, twisting them hard.

I cry out in pain. "Ow! Oh, fuck!"

He laughs darkly. "Time to be quiet, little mouse." His thumbs graze over my nipples so gently, stimulating the tips into hard peaks before he pinches again. The contrast makes me moan and I try to squeeze my legs together, but again, he's anchored his enormous body between them, and I get no relief.

"Hmm," Jax hums to himself, still caressing, then squeezing my tits. "How to keep my little human mouse from reporting me to the authorities as soon as I leave... Have you ever had someone break in before? You may answer."

"No," I say, though it sounds more like a whine.

"Perhaps I'll tell all my friends, the woman at 262 Elmwood, apartment three, will let you break into her apartment and steal all her fine material things as long as you make her come first. Would you like that little mouse? Will you keep your mouth shut if I make you come? Would you let a train of minotaurs come in here and wreck your pretty human cunt?"

"Yes!" I cry out while he drags his thumb from my nipple down to my belly button. I try to lift my pelvis, but he's pinned me in place.

Jax laughs. "I figured. You are a dirty little slut. I knew it when I saw you at the market today. Did you know I followed you? Cased you out? Had to make sure you were all alone. That no one would come to your aid when I broke in and stole this pussy for myself."

His words hit too close to home. The ache between my legs and the loneliness in my heart builds that rage again. It fires up my blood, and I try to buck my hips up.

"All alone..." He muses. Then his thumb finally dips lower and grazes my clit. Softly--so softly I can barely feel it, and I practically scream when he moves it away.

"Please!" I cry. "Fuck, please!"

Slap! It surprises me at first. Then he spreads my pussy lips with one hand and slaps again.

"Ahhh!"

"I told you to be quiet, mouse. Time for punishment."

I brace for pain. But what he does is much worse.

Keeping my lower lips spread, he exposes my clit, the most sensitive part of the pearl, a little bundle of nerve endings, and with his other finger, he barely touches it, lightly flicking it back and forth. It's not enough. It feels so good, but it's muted. Like the nerves are underwater. He blows on my clit and ever-so-gently touches it, offering zero friction.

Not enough, not enough. I buck my hips and cry, begging for more, not caring that I'm disobeying. Jax keeps flicking, keeping the pleasure to the barest minimum. I start crying.

I'm so horny it fucking hurts.

"You're dripping wet, mouse." One finger barely dips into my pussy, slathering my slick around, like he's playing in a puddle.

"Please," I sob. I'm so close to using my safe word just so I can touch myself. Jax releases me and climbs off the bed, and my hands fly to my pussy, but he snatches my wrists so fast, I don't even get to touch myself.

"Bad girl." Then he leans down, and I hear a rustling of fabric. From I assume the pocket of his pants, he produces a strip of fabric, then proceeds to tie my hands together. "This was my fault, really. I should have tied you up before we even began, but then again, I thought I could trust you." The tie pinches my wrists, and he pulls them up forcefully above my head and secures me to the headboard. "I don't know why I thought that. Dirty little sluts like you can never be trusted. I tell you to be quiet, and you whine and complain and beg. I just want you to know, little mouse, this hurts me more than it hurts you."

I don't care what he does. I'm so past caring. I squeeze my legs together, seeking relief, arms tied overhead. I'm hot. Sweaty. Wet with need.

I hear him rustle around in my bedside drawer.

"Well, what do we have here?" Jax muses, holding up one of my vibrators. It's big. Like, minotaur big.

It wasn't a coincidence I picked Jax.

I'd been dreaming of monstrous minotaur cock ever since the toy store across town got them in stock. Big, thick, veiny. Textured, with three rings around the head leading to a flat tip.

Jax turns it on, and it sings in his palm. Climbing back onto the bed, the vibrator on low, he opens my pussy lips again, then taps my clit with the vibrator. I cry out, the pleasure so close to the surface. It will take nothing for me to come at this point.

He does it again.

I want to beg for more. My eyes meet his. They sparkle in challenge. I press my lips together, refusing to give in. He wants me to beg, so he can keep torturing me. I can't do it. I need this too much.

When I don't beg, he presses the vibrator to my clit again, holding it there longer. The pleasure spikes, rockets through my body. The orgasm builds, and just as I crest the high, he pulls the toy away.

The need to scream is right there, but I bury it down.

"You're doing so good, mouse." So he does it again, holding the toy to my clit, letting the orgasm build. And just like last time, right as I'm about to come, he pulls it away.

I let out a growl, deeper than I thought possible, and he chuckles. I squirm in my restraints and kick out, nailing him uselessly in the chest. It's like kicking a boulder.

"Oh, my little mouse is getting feisty. Okay, sweet girl. You deserve a reward for staying so quiet." Then he presses the toy to my clit and the pain and ache dissipate, the vibrator buzzing against the most sensitive part of my body. And just as I reach the top, about to spill over, he thrusts one of his thick fingers inside me, curls it up, and fucks me, pressing downward with the toy.

I tense so hard my abdomen cramps before the pleasure bursts out of me. I start screaming, thrashing my hips, chasing the pleasure. The friction is other-worldly, exacting. He keeps fucking me and the pressure of the toy and his finger against each other builds something else.

"I'm-I'm--" I start, but I don't know what's happening. I think I have to pee. A new feeling unfurls low in my abdomen, zigzagging to my clit, then erupts and I come harder than I ever have. His finger, still thrusting, gets noisy. My wet pussy gushes, and I squirt all over him, but he doesn't relent. Not with the toy, or his finger.

The orgasm falls, slowly at first, but then abruptly. Because he hasn't stopped, and I can't take much more.

I try to pull my hips away from him, but he's relentless. And then I see the other side of this torture.

If I open my mouth and beg him to stop, he'll just keep going. I bite my tongue and squirm until the point where the vibrator makes my clit go numb. There's no relief in it, but I stop squirming, which makes Jax grumble in annoyance.

He throws the toy across the room with enough force it bangs against my bedroom wall. Then he spreads my knees, pushes them up, lines his cock up at my entrances and shoves in.

He's big. Huge, in fact. Too big, and it stings. He's bigger than my toy, and the tip doesn't push inside me with ease. It's forceful and blunt. I wasn't ready. My clit is numb, and I clench down as if that will hold him back, but he only growls in response before pulling out and thrusting back in, invading me completely.

I thrash, trying to fight him off, but my hands are stuck overhead. I squirm to get away from him, for pushing me too far too quickly, but he takes my knees into one hand, he pushes them up toward my head and begins fucking me like the beast he is. In and out, faster and faster, aggressively. Skin slaps, he pounds into me at a bruising pace, and I have no choice but to take it.

One hand wraps around my still sensitive throat, and he squeezes, holding my body in a tightly formed ball, and roars and bucks. The more his hand tightens around my throat, the less I can breathe. I see stars.

I suck in sips of oxygen when I can, which makes him hold tighter. His claws break skin, and that fear comes back, ten fold to when he was throat fucking me.

One more ounce of pressure and I'd choke to death. Then Jax lets go of my knees, fits himself between them, and uses his other hand to cover my eyes.

One wrapped around my throat, the other around my eyes, and all I can do is feel. Listen.

Skin slapping. Squelching pussy. Heat. Spots in the back of my eyes. Darkness. Lack of oxygen. Thrusting cock.

Clarity.

That's what comes next, because all that's left is what I can feel.

And Jax shifts his hips and starts rolling them, so each thrust pushes up, his huge cock pressing into me just right, the strange flat tip dragging like a fat fucking can inside me. The angle of his pelvis hits my clit again, but unlike the constant vibration of the toy, the tapping is rhythmic, yet spaced out.

And the pleasure builds again.

He keeps fucking me like this. Hand over my eyes, closed around my throat. Hips tilting. Clit tapping. Cock stroking.

The build is deeper than before. Visceral.

He's punishing with his pace. It starts from inside me this time, low in my belly.

And then he hits harder. Like his slaps earlier, the scary, forceful kind, that hurt, but it's the surprise of it more than the pain. He beats my pussy into submission, just like he promised.

And I'm coming.

I let out a growl, like a gurgle, inelegant and needy. His hard, steely cock practically vibrates inside me. My pussy strains around his girth. We're pressed so close together. His body overpowers me, monstrous and strange. But I let him do it. I let him take control.

Ecstasy overwhelms me. Squirting, wet, and messy. Powerful. I've no control over my body, and I shake and scream while I come. The most relieving, gratifying, fulfilling pleasure of my life pisses out of me. It doesn't pour, that's too delicate for what this is.

This is feral.

Jax begins to come, and while I'm slowing down, I'm still along for the ride. He lets go of my throat and I gasp a breath, but still can't see with his palm over my eyes.

Then his free hand comes to my clit, and it's too fucking much. What had numbed from the vibrator comes back to life while he plays with my clit. My legs clench around Jax and I come again while he pumps once, twice, hard, upward motions with his hips. Once more, thrust, grunt.

A final roar from deep inside him and then it all stops.

He's panting above me.

He moves his hand, and the room is dark again, my eyes no longer adapted to the faint light and shadows. All I see are horns and a wide, scary, snarling mouth. Sharp teeth.

But his eyes are soft, smiling.

He shimmies down my body, and then I feel his long, thick tongue licking my pussy. Not pleasuring me, but cleaning me up. Like a cat bathing in the sun. Languidly. He licks, lapping up our cum.

His mouth is too big to kiss, but he showers my body with affection with his tongue.

I suck in a breath and start balling.

He doesn't panic.

I cry. He undoes the ties binding my wrists.

I cry, he gets me some water to drink.

I cry, he lifts me up and carries me to the bathroom.

He bathes me, and I cry. Then he dries me off and carries me to the living room, dropping me off on the couch. He disappears for a few minutes and when I hear a closet door open, I realize he's changing the bedsheets.

Since I squirted all over them and they're fucking soaked, that's probably for the best.

He returns a few minutes later.

Aftercare, I realize. It was in the paperwork.

He digs through my cupboards and makes me a snack. I just watch him, wide eyed, and a little confused, while this big, hulking beast of a man--a monster--pours me a glass of wine then joins me on the couch. It's the middle of the night.

"I have to work tomorrow," I admit.

"You forget. Part of our service is informing your boss you had a family emergency and will be out for a few days."

"Oh." That's all I say. I remember now. The woman at the front desk pretends to be a family member, claiming an emergency, to give me a few days to recover. Not suspect at all. I start laughing.

He smiles, then tucks me under his arm. "Now, we've tried consensual non-consent and breaking in. I wouldn't call that rape play, I was too gentle with you. I have some other ideas in mind for that." That was gentle?

He reaches down and grabs the TV remote, clicking it on. He flips through the channels.

"You checked off a lot of boxes, actually. We'll experiment with sensory deprivation and more impact play. Are you feeling okay, by the way?"

I nod. Words escape me.

I do feel sore, but after crying, honestly, I feel amazing.

Nervous. Shaky. But amazing.

He keeps talking. "We'll get through the list, you have a few days off now. Don't worry, little mouse. I'll take care of you."

I don't know how I ended up on the couch with a minotaur taking care of me post-sex, casually going through my list of sexual interests, but something tells me it's about to be the best week of my life.

Who knows, maybe when it's all over, we'll know enough about each other to make this a regular thing--him breaking in, force fucking me, slapping me around, then pouring me a glass of wine so we can watch some TV.

One could only hope for such a lover.