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Ze Blitzkrieg Wrote:Name: Magrath Iron-Horn
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Appearance:

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Perks:

Minotaur Musk: Minotaur are known to produce a powerful, pheromone laden musk to attract potential mates. The strength of the musk largely depends on the situation. Minotaur who have been physically active, under the effects of adrenaline, or sexually pent-up tend to produce more powerful musk than those who are not, and its concentration is highest around the minotaur's sex. While primarily used to bring female humanoids into a receptive heat, the musk of male minotaur is also known to cause arousal in the males of other humanoid species. As a result, minotaur musk is occasionally used in marital aids, although over exposure can lead to ejaculating prematurely; scholars theorize that the threat of such a potent rival urges them to quickly reach completion to ensure their genes.

Monster Slayer: As an adventurer, Magrath has fought his fair share of monsters over the years. He is adept in a variety of weapons, and knows the behavior and habits of local fauna and flora, monstrous of not, enough to successfully work around or defeat them if necessary.

Monstrous Constitution: It goes without saying that Magrath's physique is not like those of his more humanoid kin. He is a big, hulking, powerful specimen of a man, much of it owing to his genes and life as a wandering sword. He is capable of great feats of physicality, whether it's feats of strength, speed or stamina, and tends to be able to endure conditions that less durable creatures could not with little discomfort.

Titan of Virility: As a minotaur, Magrath's virility can only be considered awe-inspiring by those from less productive lineages. Blessed with a huge, powerful, productive endowment and the secretions to match it, he is a ravenous lover with an almost inexhaustible reservoir of stamina that makes fully sating his desires a difficult task indeed.

Flaws:

Bullheaded: Part nature and part nurture, Magrath is a stubborn, temperamental man. He had a tendency to get set in his ways, and is easily provoked despite his best efforts to disprove the worst parts of his nature. Once he has dug his hooves in on a matter, it takes a monumental amount of persuasion to convince him otherwise.

Inhuman Appetite: The boons which make minotaur so prolific as lovers come with their costs. Magrath has a powerful libido, and a strong instinct to see that libido tended. When he has gone without the pleasure of a well deserved release for too long, his mind becomes clouded with a sheen of lust, and he finds it difficult to resist the promise of a good, hard rut to relieve all that tension in such a state. Even when it would be to his benefit to keep his bitch-breaker in its sheath.

Naïve: A seemingly unfitting thing for a worldly beast-man, Magrath is fairly naïve. Long spans of time without the benefit of human interaction has left his social skills somewhat lacking, his mannerisms somewhat awkward, and his street-smarts less than ideal. His belief in being an honest, straight-shooting man makes him take other's statements at face value, making him easy to trick for those bold enough to try their luck.

Background: Magrath was born deep in the Frosthide mountains, in the tunnels his ancestors inhabited. Life deep within the mountain was hard for any herd, no matter how strong, an Magrath has precious few memories of his time with his parents and kin. When he was still just a calf, a massive cave-in caused by the blasting of a nearby party of adventurers separated him from his people, and he found himself wandering the caves in search of salvation for days before being discovered. It was not his people who found him, however, but rather a member of the adventurer's expedition, an older gentleman by the name of Gareth, who took the young minotaur under his protection and led him to the surface. For a few years, until he was old enough to fend for himself, he stayed with Gareth, wandering with the old man and learning his ways and growing fond of him. But Gareth's time as a wanderer was limited; he only had so many good years left, and when it became clear that Magrath could handle himself, the two parted ways, with Gareth returning to the humble little valley he had grown up in, and Magrath taking on the mantle of an adventurer himself.

After nearly ten years apart, word reached Magrath with both tragedy and fortune. The old man who had taken so many years to raise him had passed away, and in his wake, left behind a sizable plot of land in the very valley he had set off for. With nobody else to claim the land, the property fell instead to the closest thing to a next of kin he had; the minotaur lad he helped raise into a proper man. Life on the road, though satisfying, was a lonely thing, and since losing his herd, Magrath had yearned for a proper place to call his own. With his sword over his shoulder and enough gold in his pocket to cover the costs of travel, Mag set off to claim his 'inheritance' and, perhaps, find himself a true home amongst the people of the valley.

Turn-Ons: Big cock, cock comparison, cock worship, cuckolding, domination, excessive cum, femboys, fucked silly, harem, humiliation, large insertions, marathon sex, MILFs, musk, pregnancy, romance, sexual favors, sexual rewards, teasing
Turn-Offs: guro, death, bathroom stuff, ovipostion, tentacles

The closer you drew to Hazelgate, the less capable things around you seemed to be to accommodate for your formidable size and statue. While deep within what humans refer to as the "Civilized Lands", the modest valley town is also well enough away from any major settlements that only locals and familiar traders tend to frequent the roads to and fro. And as these roads shifted from the well maintained stone paths between major cities to the beaten dirt tracks of the countryside, so to did the means of transportation. The rickety trader's wagon opting to let passengers come aboard for a reasonable fee that you ran into on your last stop before Hazelgate exemplified this perfectly. Once the initial surprise of your hulking form looming over him had passed, the carriage driver's concerns clearly turned to ones for the wellbeing of his transport - the worry that your weight would bend, buckle and even break the wooden frame evident on his pained face. Still, your coin was no less valuable than the coin of anyone else and your weight resulted in little more than a slight drag to the carriages apparent usual speed.

Still, there were plenty of benefits to be had in this journey as well. For one thing, while the folks in these parts were even less well accustomed to individuals such as yourself, there were far fewer of them so whenever your appearance did cause a scene, the gasps and gawking were kept to a minimum and you didn't have to feel quite as singled out as the times when a busy street would open up to give you specifically a wide berth. On top of that, the fresh air and scenic environment was something to enjoy all of its own. The forests around here were lush, vibrant and what few structures you saw were filled with rustic charm. The valley was flanked by tall, sweeping mountains that in clear skies you could see the peaks capped with snow to contrast with the verdant fields beneath them. Though you were far from the Frosthide mountains, in a certain way they reminded you of your distant home.

Then the time came to reach your destination. Farmland cleared some of the surrounding forest, but there was never a lacking for greenery. You could see a handful of field hands working fields and repairing fences. Those closest to the road tilted up the brims of their hats that kept the sun from their eyes and looked in your direction. While you couldn't see their faces, you had no doubt that the sight of a minotaur riding into town in the back of a carriage would be quite the surprise in a place like this. You wondered if anyone had been told about your arrival? Hopefully someone should be informed at least, or else the apparent sight of a minotaur rocking up and starting to squat in Gareth's farm might cause some issues.

Your driver comes to a stop at a Trading Caravan post just past the outer farms. From what you were told, your own farmstead would be on the other side of the town, which, for someone like you, wouldn't be much of a trek at all. Though catching your eye not far from where you are dropped off is an Adventurer's Guild. The building looks quite new compared to the others around here and you can't help but wonder if your old caretaker had anything to do with setting it up.

Investigating would be a matter for another time, however. Your first stop should still be Gareth's farm. Though that didn't mean you couldn't take in the sights of the town along the way. For the most part it seemed quite the typical, quaint farming town, with a small local church, a bustling farmer's market (although it was a fair bit smaller and calmer than any city market you had been to). The clang of metal on an anvil alerted you to a blacksmith's that sounded like it was situated relatively near the adventurer's guild, and near the town's centre was the Hazelnut Inn, from which some mouth watering aromas wafted out from. The town was not without its oddities, however. A pair of twin houses sharing the same stretch of farm land were surrounded by nothing but pumpkins. And in the market there seemed to be a young woman in what your adventurer's experience had told you could only be a witch's hat peddling potions with middling success.

For the most part you were left alone, as you had come to expect. Your arrival was certainly noticed. But no one was trying to drive you out with pitchforks and torches so that was something at least.

"Oh? Oh!" someone's voice starts rising quickly. "Mr... ah... what was it again... Mr. Minotaur, sir, sorry. Could you wait there just one moment?" You follow the sound of the voice to find a woman, perhaps five or so years your senior, standing behind one of the stalls in the farmer's market. She waves in your direction as she speaks, before turning back to a customer she was talking to first. They quickly resolve whatever business they had been handling before she slips the exchanged coins away in her purse. She briefly disappears behind her stall before returning with a basket under her arm as she hurries over to you.

"Apologies!" she says, her tits swaying in the rather loose fabric of her dress. "I didn't realise you would be arriving today!" she stops in front of you, smiling up at you, her eyes widening as she takes you in. "Goodness you're a big lad, aren't you? Suppose you would be, but still, quite surprising to see in person. Oh, where are my manners? I'm Paulina. I help run the farmer's market with my husband. Well, I mostly run it here and he'll manage trade in the city. You're Gareth's lad, correct. I mean, I know you're not his his, but... well now, I suppose I wouldn't put it past that man... but no, you're... I'm sorry, he did tell me your name but that was a while ago and I've been managing a lot lately. I want to say... Mag?" she laughs sheepishly, a rosy tint coming to her cheeks.

"I'm making a terrible welcome to our town, huh? Well, hopefully this will make up for it. Some freshly baked goods, Hazelgate style. We're unmatched when it comes to baked treats." she holds up the basket in her hands and offers it to you. The smell reminds you of the Inn you passed not too long ago.

"I've got the keys to Gareth's... well, I guess your farm. So I'll be giving them to you. If you'd like, I could show you the way and help you get settled in. Then if you'd like, I might be able to squeeze in a quick tour of the town before I get back to work. Just the important bits."

Paulina

The journey to Hazelgate was not one of particular strangeness to Mag. Over the years, he had traveled through plenty of rural areas, in kingdoms both human and not. A hundred little towns and villages dotted the greater world, most all of them unnoticeable and peaceable. Occasionally, they’d have some problems here or there with the odd monster problem, and occasionally, a man like Mag would come along and help them with that problem. Looked at through such a lens, the trip to Hazelgate was no different from a low-paying adventuring gig, just something to pad his expenses with when times were slow.

But that lens wasn’t the one to use. He wasn’t there to clear out some particularly ornery slimes or cave-dwellers. He was there to… inherit. To settle. It felt strange, acknowledging the old man who had taught him how to be, well, a man in the absence of his own people, had passed away. When they last saw one another, he seemed almost invincible, even to a bull minotaur just starting to come into his strength. But he had wandered the world a lot longer than Mag had even known it, and the years must have been slowing his step if he were to accept even the notion of retiring. The saying always went, `there are old adventurers, bold adventurers, but no old, bold adventurers`. The old man had always been a bold one. Perhaps it was for the best he chose to set aside his sword and find somewhere comfortable to enjoy his bounty.

And if Hazelgate was good enough for him, then it was good enough for Mag. Even as he dismounted the too-small carriage and bid adieu to the driver, the hulk of an adventurer found himself lost in the thoughts of what awaited him beyond the town’s humble roads. He knew the parcel of land was big enough to make a living on, and that it was fertile enough to sustain Gareth long after his body must have started to fail. Bull-like though he was, Magrath had never been a farmer. His massive hands had only known the feeling of breaking flesh and bone over earth. But even that he had to learn. Surely, plowing fields wasn’t so difficult an enterprising young man like himself couldn’t put two-and-two together.

Those thoughts occupied much of his walk through the town, eyes unfocused in a daze as he meandered towards the side of town the farmland was like to be on. It was only when a voice called out above the low din of the marketplace that he found himself in the presence. And when his eyes landed upon the brave soul who sought him out, he couldn’t help but instinctively flare his nostrils: gorgeous women were always a weakness for a bull without a herd, and weeks on the road hadn’t made his interest any easier to blunt.

Still, he wasn’t a monster himself, and cute as she was chirping to herself to fill the silence between them, he figured he ought to speak up at some point. Flashing her as friendly a smile as his bovine features allowed, Mag craned his head in gratitude to the much smaller woman before him.

”’S alright, you’re friendlier than most. Name’s Magrath, but most folks find Mag easier to say,” As he straightened, he tried his level best to keep his eyes from lingering on the valley of her tits, “Pleasure to meet ya.”

Mag's nostrils flared again at the mention of bread, although not for the reason they had at first, and he reached out with a huge hand to scoop it up and hold it at his side. Another hand reached more gingerly to pluck one loaf from within.

”I’d appreciate it. This all is a first for me, and I reckon the folks around here will be less worried about me lumbering around if a friendly face introduces me,” He nodded his head down the path again, “Lead the way.”

Though there is genuine relief on Paulina's face as you assuage her guilt over forgetting your name, she still pantomimes an overt sense of alleviation by wiping her brow and tilting backwards - attempting to use humour to try and soften the blow of what she must feel like to be a subpar first impression on her part. Or perhaps you just made her that nervous.

"Oh, phew. Here I was worried I had just spooked off our new best farmer. With muscles like yours, you could probably plough everyone's fields if you wanted to." she chuckles to herself, affixing her dress slightly before folding her hands together as she watches you fish out a pastry just shy of filling the palm of your hand. "Magrath... Think I can manage that just fine, but I hope you won't mind if most folk around here call you Mag. And it looks like we might need to make bigger servings for you. You have an appetite to match your size? If you're anything like Gareth, you could probably eat twice as much actually."

Paulina seems to have some notable amount of presence and possibly even authority within the town. Though she's not so much as uttered an instruction in anyone's direction since you've met her, excluding asking you to wait for her to come over to you of course, just the mere sight of her talking to you seems to put the townsfolk at ease. Whether her approval helps them accept you or they've reached the conclusion that she's handling the great big lumbering minotaur that's stumbled into town remains to be seen.

"You've got quite the accent, Magrath. Thick and deep, but in a real soothing way. May I ask where you're from?" she asks, as she beckons you to follow her.

From the Farmer's Market it isn't too far to reach the other end of town. Which you suppose is a good thing if you'll be needing to traverse that distance on who knows how regular a basis to take your goods to market. Maybe Paulina could help with that. At the very least, its an excuse to spend more time with such a shapely and visually appealing woman.

Soon enough she brings you to the entrance to Gareth's farmstead. Your farmstead. Land you officially now owned. Admittedly, it didn't look in the best shape. The fields looked like they hadn't been tended to in years. Wild bushes and vines had overtaken large stretches of the land and the surrounding fence posts were in various stages of falling apart.

"Enough people in town admired Gareth enough to help take care of him and his land, but he was a proud sort. Wouldn't let anyone do anything he thought he should do himself." Paulina says as she opens the gate to the pathway through your new property. "You have much experience farming? I hope its not presumptuous of me to say, but I imagine not. From what Gareth said, you're more the adventuring type. I'm sure you'll find people willing to help out with getting you set up. Its quite a lot of land to handle all at once. My advice, start with cleaning up what you can manage and move on to more once you've got the hang of it."

The town wasn't overly noisy, at least compared to human cities. But out here, at Gareth's farm, there was that same serene peacefulness you felt on the carriage ride over. You could see other farmsteads from here, but Gareth's land was wide enough that you had plenty to just yourself. And the overgrowth helped provide a greater sense of distance. Naturally provided privacy for a conversation between just you and Paulina.

The two of you approached the main building. Gareth's home. It was surprisingly large, though only moderately more maintained than the farmland that surrounded it. Vines clung to the walls and paint peeled from the wood. At the very least there seemed to be no obvious holes in any windows or walls, but it could do with a thorough clean and makeover. But with all that aside, it was large. Wider than it was tall by three or four times as much. You wonder if Gareth intended for it to house a large family. Perhaps it did once upon a time, but now it only belonged to you.

Paulina fishes in her purse and pulls out a key chain, from which she plucks a key to hand to you. "Its all yours if you want to go inside now. I've kept the inside tidy. All that's left within is what Gareth wanted to leave to you. Well, and the attic, but that's another matter that... oh. Oh my."

Paulina pulls into your side, her hand reaching out and grasping onto your arm as she spots something over by the side of the house. Following her gaze, you find the translucent blue form of a slime, slinking around the side of the house. It seemed to be clinging to the outer wall of the house, its lightly acidic body eroding away near the building's foundations. It didn't seem to be actively looking to consume the house. Such a meal would be far to large for any slime to handle, but perhaps this land had been quiet enough that the creature thought to make a burrow from which to spawn more of its kind. This particular specimen certainly looked large enough to begin dividing at a moments notice.

Though he had never felt at home in them, years of traveling amid humans had acclimated Mag to the sort of behavior he saw from the town folk. Usually, they'd gravitate towards a few figures of authority, keeping to themselves among outsiders and letting their representative handle any strangers who came around. It spoke well of Paulina that so many of the townfolk trusted her to handle a big, mean-looking fella like himself. It made a level of sense, though, given even Gareth had apparently trusted her enough to see him to the property and get him introduced. The old man always had a good nose for people, and there were times when he wished he had nearly as good a sense as his adoptive father had for such things.

At the blonde's praise, Mag couldn't help but offer her a deep, rumbling chuckle. It wasn't too often that he got complimented for something like his accent of all things, but positive attention was always welcome, especially when the source was so sweet on the senses herself. He nodded in agreement in response to his appetite and finished off the pastry as he began to follow after her.

"I appreciate the sentiment. As for where I'm from, well, it's a long story. I grew up in the Frosthides, which are about as far north as north goes when it comes to mountains. My folk lived in the labyrinths underground, but I was separated from 'em when I was about your size. Gareth found me in the tunnels not too long after," It felt like a lifetime ago that he had stumbled upon the grizzly old bastard, although he was not so old back in that day, "He took care of me until I was old enough to take care of myself. S'pose my accent is a little bit of everywhere, then; we didn't stay in one spot for too long, and even when we split, I kept wanderin' from place to place."

The farm was a sight for sore eyes in more than one way. On one hand, it was his land. Something he could do whatever he liked with. Not too many adventurers had something so static, and so in their control. It was something to be proud of. On the other hand, it constituted a lot of manual labor, and outside of the occasional job requiring feats of strength, he hadn't put his back into anything but cute barmaids and particularly daring damsels in a very long time.

"I'll keep that in mind. Hopefully, the folks around here are the more welcomin' sort. Or, at least the sort who understand the benefits of having a minotaur owe them a favor."

He offered a little grin to go with his statement, but the jovialness didn't last for long. He barely registered Paulina clinging close to his arm before his eyes fell on the huge slime clinging to the side of what was supposed to be his house. His nostrils flared heavy, blowing an irate snarl as he sized up the varmint. Nothing too big for him to handle, but he wasn't exactly alone.

"Not that I don't appreciate the feelin' of you rubbin' up on me, Miss Paulina," Magrath tried to inject a little levity into the situation again, if only to calm her nerves; most folk weren't so brave in the face of a monster, "But I'm gonna need both my arms if I'm gonna take care of this one."

The steel that hung so heavy from his back was manageable with a single hand, given his strength, but it was definitely a weapon of leverage. More a huge, heavy length of black iron than a sword, the thick cutting edge mattered little enough with the amount of force that regularly backed it up. Things that it couldn't cut through usually got smashed to bits by the impact. Something he certainly hoped to spare the sweet, busty merchant on his arm the fate of.

Realising what you intend to do, Paulina pulls away from your arm, stepping behind you to clear the way between you and the slime. A hand raised to her mouth in demure shock, she takes a moment to settle herself before speaking. "We can get help. These things make their way into the farms every so often. Usually their just a nuisance... they tend to ruin crops they pass over and make it hard to work the soil. But they're also usually not... that big."

As big as it is, it's also slow. The slime is sluggish in its movements, and rather late with reacting to your presence. For a seasoned adventurer like you, dealing with an enemy like this is trivial. If anything, you're used to even mundane pests like slimes being trickier than this one. Though you saw an adventurer's guild in town, it seems likely that the townsfolk are less adept at dealing with slimes than the average adventurer by quite a wide margin, leading to the local variety being almost docile in their reaction to the presence of people. Their corrosive nature still leaves them too dangerous to be left unchecked, but they may not be much of a challenge at all if they haven't learned to avoid people the way most slimes do.

Your blade swings with force enough to lift the slime into the air. You may need to sharpen it later, but a few strikes against a slime won't expose your weapon to its corrosive qualities long enough to do any real damage. The same can't be said for the slime as it parts in the air, goop material splattering to the ground where it once was.

However it seemed the creature was closer to duplicating than you had anticipated. Out of what survival instinct exists within its globular mass, it rushes its replication in its final moments, splitting off a section of itself as it dies. A smaller slime, barely worth hunting for even the most overly productive alchemist, flies through the air, using the force of your swing to give it momentum to propel over your head. Likely just out of the sheer randomness of its trajectory - though if the slime had any sense of female beauty you would consider it a deliberate ploy - the creature collides with Paulina, its blue mass enveloping her chest as the impact knocks her to the ground.

She cries out, wriggling, knowing not to grab at it with her bare hands but not knowing what else to do to get it off. "Mag! Help!" she calls for you, as before your very eyes the fabric of her dress begins to dissolve. You have experience enough to know that a common slime, especially one of this size, will have no harmful effect on human skin, at least not within any reasonable timeframe. They do sometimes apply various other pacifying effects to prey depending on the slime's origin, but that's a matter for alchemists to study. As an adventurer, you know enough to understand Paulina is in no immediate danger here... her clothes, on the other hand, are about to meet an imminent doom. You can likely save them if you chose to act now, or find an excuse to save a her a little slower.

Any adventurer worth their salt knew how to deal with a stubborn slime, given their relative plenty, but few enough could claim they understood the mechanics underpinning their behavior. Mag, for all his bluster, certainly fell into that category. Crushing up slime with the heft of his blade was an easy enough thing, but predicting that the big bastard would spit out a smaller bastard that sailed right over his head wasn't something he could have expected. Though he was quick enough to pivot on his hooves to track where the offshoot ended up, he found himself thanking the gods that such puny slime tended to lack the acidity to harm something the size of a human. Not least of which because the target it decided to leech itself onto promised to be a truly mouthwatering pair of tits that he had yet to lay his eyes on.

Although, with how the slime seemed to work at dissolving the fabric beneath it, the minotaur would likely not say that for long.

His instincts as an adventurer nearly caused him to jump right to Paulina's aid. It was in his nature to help people, after all. But another instinct screamed for him to stay his hand. It wouldn't take too long for the slime to eat its way through her dress, and based on how she jiggled to and fro, she had probably neglected to wear anything underneath to keep her girls in check. Really, could he be blamed for feeling a little randy at the prospect of seeing her big, pale tits after watching them bounce along for so long? He could've done worse for a less impressive bust, with how long it had been since he last did a little busting of his own. Perhaps a little peak at what Paulina had to offer would aid him in working out some tension once things had settled down.

"Calm down, calm down, it's not gonna hurt ya," A middle ground had to be taken, regardless, as Paulina had helped him a fair bit, and out of the goodness of her heart no less, "Just relax and let me peel 'em off ya, alright?"

The huge sword on his shoulder sunk into the dirt with a colossal 'thud', and the hulking Mag made his way over to where Paulina had fallen. He wasn't as swift as he could be, for obvious reasons, but he hoped his casual stride would put some level of confidence in her that she wasn't about to be digested by a monster the size of a roast turkey. Taking a knee beside her, he tried not to leer at the sweet flesh beneath the slime as he reached down and sunk his thick fingers into it.

"Just gotta get a good grip on 'em... and... yank!"

Truth be told, he might've let his fingers simply slosh around the slime's interior for a few moments more than necessary, just to make sure the fabric wouldn't put up much resistance when he inevitably pulled it up and off her, and hopefully, take what remained with it.

Paulina does her best to keep herself calm and still as you approach. "Are you sure? It feels... uhu... tingly and... mmmh..." she squirms uneasily on the ground beneath you, her chest jiggling with each movement. Its almost like the slime is helping accentuate each shake of her bust as she wriggles in the dirt. There's a slight fizzing sound as you watch the fabric around her cleavage tears apart and floats in dissipating fragments throughout the slimes form.

Though still coated in the slime as it clings to her tits for dear life, you're able to get a good look at her bust. No wonder they shook so much, they have quite the weight to them. The slime keeps them from spreading as she lies on her back, squeezing them together within its mass as it seems to wriggle around, desperately trying to find a decent source of food that it can easily consume to try and regrow its size. As small as it is, its spread quite thin across her bust, almost looking like a glistening coating that's lathering her chest up for a good titfuck rather than a creature gripping to whatever it can in the midst of panic.

Before you can press your hands against it, you see what must be the beginnings of this particular variant of slime's pacification method in action. A few moments after exposing most of Paulina's breast flesh, the slime began excreting an ooze over her chest, slightly more viscous in constitution than the slime's core body itself. Paulina's startled yelps stutter and dim, becoming confused moans as you note her cheeks flush. Within the slime itself you can see her nipples stiffen at whatever stimulation the slime seems to be giving her. Briefly, her eyes seem to loose focus, but she's able to collect herself, anchoring her attention to your presence.

"Please, be gentle..." she asks with a shuddered, breathless tone as you press your large hands against her chest. Filling each of your palms, you get a good grip as you work on prying the slime off of her. The squeezing and tugging only helps to draw more moans from the woman on the floor beneath you and in due time a wet plop brings the slime free from her. And with it a good deal more of her dress. A deep V is torn through her dress, leaving her chest heaving and fully exposed, glistening with the aftermath of the slime's presence giving her an almost oiled up look as her tits heave with her catching breath.

Prying the slime loose took a little more effort than intended, and yet Magrath found himself all the more rewarded for it. Whatever the creature had done to the otherwise alert woman, part of him couldn't help but be thankful. Perhaps that was why, instead of squeezing down with his iron-like grip until it popped like a bubble, the minotaur yanked his arm back and, with a little grunt of effort, launched the creature far off into the distance, well beyond the overgrowth that served as the privacy curtain of his little would-be homestead. Overgrowth that he found himself all the more thankful for now that he had one of the town's most respected inhabitants lying in his front garden with her chest on display.

A hundred things seemed to rush through his mind as he looked down at the gasping woman, most all of them not the sort of things a good neighbor did in such a situation. He could feel himself stirring beneath his loincloth despite himself, his heavy sex making itself known with a hard throb. How could any man not be aroused at the sight before him? The slime's secretions only seemed to make her tits all the more inviting, like it had polished her heavy orbs with oil.

A deep grunt left his chest as he lifted his arm toward her once more and, without much in the way of hesitation, reached down to cup one of her tits in his hand. To his credit, he granted her request, his fingers gentle despite the roughness inherent to his hands. His digits kneaded one of her breasts like so much bread, enjoying the feeling of the soft, slick flesh below as it danced in his palm.

"Yeah... Just gonna check on ya... real gentle like... How does this feel? Does it hurt? And... how about this?"

A rhetorical question, given how she seemed to react to the very sensation of having the slime tugged off her. He brought his other hand around to maul her other tit, working the perky pink nipple with his thumb as he quickly found his restraint melting in the face of a gorgeous, squirmy human woman.

With the slime free of her chest, Paulina drapes an arm over herself as she catches her breath, attempting to cover her tits but clearly lacking the composure at the moment to do anything more than the bare minimum. "Thankyou, Magrath. That was... quite the embarrassing oh..." Her voice trails off as her eyes catch the throbbing between your legs that begins to push aside your loincloth. The nature of these circumstances are not lost on Paulina, who flushes deeper and sinks her head between her shoulders. She has an almost apologetic look to get as she tries to sit upright and pull the tattered pieces of her dress together to at least partially cover herself, however her movements are still dazed and slow from her experience, leaving her open to your hand's approach.

She gasps out, feeling such a firm grip on her chest, though she acquiesces to your inspection. "Hrmm..." she groans, biting her lip a little. "Its... sensitive... more so than usual. Doesn't hurt, but..." you notice a twitch in one of her legs as she clutches her eyes shut and tries to steady her breathing. It seems the slime's aftermath has left her very sensitive indeed.

She gasps as your other hand joins the inspection. The slime's attack had left her soft chest slippery in your grip, letting you ply and squeeze with an added enticing bounce to their movements against your hands. "It's... it's... ah..." she's starting to sweat, though opens her eyes once more as she feels your thumbs against her nipple. There's an accusatory look to them, not harsh but clearly understanding, as this particular focus has all but done away with the pretence of an inspection in her eyes.

The stimulation you provide keeps her from being able to form a coherent sentence for a few moments, while her hands try to find purchase on your own arms, moving up and down your muscled forearms while failing to form grip as her fingers twitch from the sensations running through her body. Eventually she manages to push her palms against your arms more firmly, sitting herself upright even as your toy with her chest. The movement brings her closer to your ever growing cock, which now pokes out to hover above her head.

"Magrath... hmmph... I'm... okay... I need you to... what's... do you smell something?" the flush to Paulina's face deepens. A reaction you know well.

All this time spent travelling has left you pent up, and the display you've just gotten from Paulina hasn't helped that at all. Your own musk, already potent enough to make the most reserved of potential lovers more pliable after enough time by your side, only gets stronger the more pent up you are. And there's nowhere on your body that its stronger than your own cock and balls. You watch her eyes loose focus as her own heavy breathing draws in the very odour that makes her your plaything.

Your own mental fortitude isn't holding out much better. The very factors that have made your musk so potent also drive your own urge to rut. You can feel the need building within you to the point that it's practically overflowing. A creature such as yourself needs and deserves to rut and fuck as you see fit. Its part of the very core of your being. To find the nearest, most inviting mate and claim it as your own.

Though Paulina shows herself to be of a stronger mind than your typical tavern wench. While all it takes is a quick whiff of your musk coupled with a stiff drink to get your own special service at a typical tavern, Paulina pulls her head to the side and pushes her palms more firmly on your arms. Not fighting you, but making her stance clearer. From how her body quivers and the moans that still escape from her lips, its clear she could be made to submit with ease. Not that that speaks low of her at all. Even some of the most hardened adventurers that you worked with would find themselves begging for your cock after a day or two of travelling by your side while you worked up a sweat through traversing rough terrain or fighting wild beasts and monsters.

"I... ahh... appreciate your concern... but it is... inappropriate for you to be touching me like this... Ma~AH~ag. I'm a... m-married woman." she says. You can see the clear conflict in her eyes as she struggles to not look at you, but she seems to be doing her best to try and keep her sense of reason.

Perhaps in normal circumstances that might be the end of it, at least for now. But you feel no more in control of your own desires than she does. A deep and primal urge to fuck her and show her she needs no other mate than yourself. And to ease this mounting pressure within you that built up over your journey. You know there's any number of ways you could press the situation and in moments she would likely want you as much as you want her, if not more so. Or you can try to hold back, but after this tease you'll only be all the more desperate to make use of the next available hole that presents itself to you.

Mag's hands continued, almost reflexively, to grope and fondle, to knead and maul Paulina's chest, even as she pushed against him and made her protests clear. What a herculean feat that must have been. It hadn't exactly been his intention, to bring the well-meaning wife to his land so he could have his way with her. Hell, perhaps the reason he hadn't already torn away her dress and pressed her into the dirt was that very reason. Paulina had been very good to him so far, and he didn't want to repay that good nature with acts that would see her and the rest of the townfolk turn on him like a common monster, too lost in his lusts to listen to reason.

But at the same time, his lusts were a very strong motivator. It had been far too long since he had last gotten a good, calming nut in, and with the slime's interference, he wasn't sure he could go much longer without the sweet feeling of emptying his balls and restoring some semblance of logic to his bestial mind. If it wasn't with Paulina, it would have to be with the next pretty thing to wander down to greet him or the one after that. And given that Paulina had just fallen victim to a slime of... dubious nature, perhaps it was easier to justify getting the worst of his appetites out with her than the neighbor's girl on their first meeting.

"Rrrhhh... apologies, Miss Paulina... You're right, of course. I shouldn't be touchin' you like this..."

His hands squeezed her ample chest once more for emphasis, rolling her areola beneath his thumbs as he enjoyed the feeling. It took a great deal of willpower to pull his hands away, but the promise of more pleasant sensations helped him defer his satisfaction. When he eventually disentangled from her, he reached instead to the heavy belt around his waist, which held his loincloth in place and kept everything from spilling out... At least, when he wasn't getting hard enough to poke out the side of it. The minotaur's thick digits worked at the buckle as he continued to speak.

"But I can't help myself. It's been a real, real long time since I laid with a lady... and us minotaur, we get pent up real quick. Starts to be that all we can think about is getting a good, long, hard rutting in. Especially when there's a real good lookin' partner right in front of us..."

His voice was low and deep, and rumbly as he spoke. If the busty farm-wife thought it had been soothing to listen to Mag's voice before, perhaps the smoky tone it took would make her a little more inclined to listen despite the boldness of the words he spoke. And if that didn't work, he had a good idea of what would. The buckle of his belt popped free not long after, and without its pressure, his loincloth all but untangled with it, allowing his bestial cock to spring free and slap against the bottom of his breastplate. It struggled to stand straight thereafter, though, under its weight, the head drooping low before Paulina, drooling a strand of ridiculously thick pre-cum that hung almost as low as the huge, heavy balls that produced it, and reeking just as much with his bovine stench.

"I gotta get it out soon, Miss Paulina, else I won't be able to control where it goes... and seein' as though you're in a similar state... why don't we help each other out? Just this once... just 'cause of the slime. It got somethin' on you that made you feel terribly hot and bothered, and we helped each other out. Nobody has to know about it. Our little secret."

Part of him couldn't help but feel a little bad about his attempts to soothe her worries. She did have a husband back home, after all. But he'd make it up to the guy later. Maybe help him tow some lumber or something. It certainly seemed a fitting repayment for his wife helping tend quite a hefty tree of his own.

Paulina's head tilted back as she tried to swallow down the moans that you stirred up from within her, continuing to toy with her even after admitting fault. Her whole face was bright red now, with strands of hair starting to cling to her forehead as she began to sweat more intensely. When finally released, she grips at the ruined fabric of her dress, pulling shut the now deep cut parting on her clothes - damaged from both the slime's acid and your own forceful removal of the creature. The dress hangs even looser around her than it did before, offering little in the way of covering her cleavage or protecting her dignity, but she made to as best she could, hands tightly clutching the strands of her dress that were once part of the fabric covering her bust.

"This isn't a... proper way to act around here, Mr Magrath." she begins, though her efforts to recompose herself shake as she observes what you're doing next. "I'm sure you've had quite a different way of things on the road, but if you're to fit in here you'll need to... settle down with these..." her voice trails off as your loincloth comes loose, before audibly gasping at the size of your thick member emerging from within. Standing before her in all its glory, and wafting free all of your heavy musk directly over her senses. You could see her eyes loose focus immediately, the shift in her pupils that always denoted the moment a potential mate had lost themselves to your presence.

"What are you... doing?" she murmurs, her head lightly tilting from side to side as if dizzy or tired. Her eyes watched the emerging strand of thick pre that began to droop from the tip of your cock hungrily. "Please... lets just... act like this never happened... and put away your... big... heavy... thick... throbbing... bull cock..." her mouth waters as she speaks, her face drawing closer to your cock.

She's trapped, a fish on a hook, needing the slightest tug to reel her in the rest of the way. And that tug was already on its way. As she sat, mesmerised by your musk and cock together, your dollop of pre seals the deal. Dropping from your tip, in splatters across her nose, thick enough to cover it almost entirely and even dribble down across her open mouth. Some of it lands on her tongue and she laps it up instinctually.

"Oh." Its spoken quiet. Accepting. Horny.

Her eyes are no longer just unfocused, but utterly glazed over, her head emptied out in its entirety, leaving only room for a desperate need to be fucked. By you specifically.

She can't even take the initiative in this moment. She shifts her position, hands dropping to the ground between her legs, letting the tattered remains of her dress fall with them so her glossy tits can hang freely once more. She leans forward, mouth agape, drool starting to trail down her chin and drip past her neck and over her tits, gazing up at you and your cock hanging over her like a well trained dog waiting for a treat.

The way her voice seemed to waver as she described his cock. The way she seemed to lose track of what she was doing as the first dollop struck her nose. The way she looked at him. Everything about Paulina, in that moment, seemed to get Magrath going. He could feel his arousal surge as the buxom beauty before him seemed to slowly accept the situation and allow herself to let go of that pesky insistence on propriety. His instincts screamed out to him: there was a gorgeous, breed-able female right in front of him. He needed to fuck and he was going to fuck, one way or another. They could certainly forget all about their little rendezvous and go their separate ways. After he had his fun with her and found some relief. And only after that.

"It's alright... It's all gonna be alright..."

His words were deep and soothing as he reached out for her again, not for her chest, but instead for her head. His thick fingers made to cup along her cheek nice and gently, and he used his thumb to wipe away at the strand of his pre that stained her face with all the care of a lover before allowing them to continue further and tangle themselves into her straw-colored hair. His hefty palm was enough to cup almost the whole of her head, and he eased her ever so slightly forward as he re-positioned himself such that his shaft was lined up with her pretty little lips, the huge, flared head flexing instinctively as it grew near her.

"You're just gonna open your mouth... and lick... and suck... and get it nice and wet for me. And you're gonna use those nice soft hands to stroke and pump and work it nice and easy..."

She let her head rest against the touch of your palm warmly, her big green eyes gazing up at you like a long loved partner. Her breath would catch with each slight movement of your digits on her face and through her hair, clearly enjoying being handled in such a dominant yet caring fashion. Perhaps this is how she prefers her husband to treat her. Its hard to imagine that any man would pass up on the opportunity to bed a woman with a body as deserving of regular loving as Paulina as often as he possibly could, but still... he was likely only human, and you offered much more, in quite a literal sense, than he ever could.

But this was no time to think of her husband. You had claimed Paulina for now. If whoever she married didn't want something like this to happen, he should have done a better job of claiming her so that she couldn't be stolen away. If your potent, bestial pheromones could quash her devotion to her husband then by rights she was yours to rut. Back in the Frosthide mountains, an act such as this would prove she was always meant to be your wife in the first place and her husband would have to reprove his worth by either trying to claim her back or fighting you for dominance - or failing either of those, accepting his place as your lesser and begging for the chance to lay with his wife whenever you weren't using her. That was there, however, and the rules were certainly different here, but even so any qualms with stealing her away can be considered only once you've cleared your head of the white hot lust that fills it.

As you line your cock up with her mouth, she finds herself licking her lips. Her own breathing growing heavier, ensuring her mind stayed deeply under the effects of your pheromones -as pliable and submissive as her body desires her to be for you. "Yes, Magrath..." she murmurs, nodding as well as she could with her head being guided by your grip. "Lick... suck... pump..."

She repeats this a few more times like a mantra as her hands lift up to find the length of your cock. She gasps as she feels the hot, throbbing mass beneath her touch - thick enough to be used as a weapon if it didn't have far better uses that you would both enjoy much more. She feels along the length, captivated by how bestial the texture was, so foreign to anything she's know. At least when it comes to cocks. Given how involved she is with the farms here, you do wonder if she's ever milked an animal before. Her skilled hands definitely show some amount of practiced use, though you doubt any farmstead bull has been treated to what you're receiving now.

Soon after she brings her mouth closer, opening it just as you've commanded. Her tongue reaches out first, making first contact with your tip before her lips follow. The moans that follow are delight to hear - and feel as they vibrate around your head. It seems the taste of your cock alone is enough to make her all the more wanton for you. Your flared tip is large enough that sucking on your head almost looks akin to making out with a lover. She changes angle a fair bit to get a good taste of all around your tip while her hands continue to work up and down the length of your shaft, needing to make full use of her elbows to properly satisfy you. This may only be the warmup, but she was clearly throwing her full passion and enthusiasm into it.

The sensation of soft, warm, worshipful digits wrapped around Magrath's shaft coaxed a deep, rumbling groan from his chest, and he found himself settling somewhat as Paulina's hands soothed his lusts somewhat with the promise of release. How quickly he could reach such a thing, he couldn't say: it was clear that the beauty between his legs was no stranger to tending cock, although he doubted any shafts that found their way between her palms were even half as big as the tool she contended with now. Nothing shy of a stallion was like to sport such a bitch-breaker, and he highly doubted the sexy farmer's wife was one to get manual with the livestock. Although, perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea to coax her into an... unconventional sort of milking if they found themselves coupling again. He was sure he could fill a bucket just as well as any of the cows that Hazelgate had to offer. Though he reckoned the contents wouldn't be half so welcome by her husband as a pail of milk.

But her husband's desires didn't particularly matter at the moment, and nothing made that more clear than the feeling of his wife pressing her sweet lips against the flared head of a minotaur's cock. Mag let another low rumble out as she started to lap and suckle at the tip of his monstrous sex, and the hand he held against the back of her head tensed somewhat, just enough to lovingly stroke through her pretty, pale hair, encouraging her motions. She certainly seemed to be getting her workout in, pumping him with both hands as she tended his head with her tongue, and his shaft couldn't help but buck somewhat in response to the tending, another fat dollop of pre-cum dribbling from his flare to further muddy her mind.

"Hnggrrhh... fuck... that's it... Good girl. Open up a little wider... I wanna feel you take it into your mouth."

How well she'd do at properly servicing him, he couldn't say. Most women were clumsy at it the first couple of times. But Paulina seemed the stubborn, determined type, and for as much as he wished he simply spread her sticky thighs and thrust himself home, he knew from experience that giving her time to tend to his shaft and sink all the further into the throes of musk-laden heat would make rutting her into the dirt all the more rewarding, regardless of how many loads she could coax out of him with her mouth.

As she salivates over your cock with rapturous enthusiasm, you wonder if Paulina had ever taken a mate as quickly as she has with you. You suspect not... most likely by quite a wide margin. While nothing about her suggest a prudish nature with your brief interaction, the ability to focus on her marriage in the midst of a musk fuelled haze indicated that she was a woman of significant temperament. If she was something of a local leader when it came to the farmer's market, then that only added to the idea she was a goal focused and rational woman. None of that prevented her from being libidinous, of course, but you had seen more evidence to suggest she was more refined and selective than a common tavern wench might be. So while you may have found your way between a mate's legs in faster time than this in the past, such a whirlwind 'romance' may be new to this particular farmer's wife. Her reaction to it may be interesting to see once the lustful haze you've forced upon her passes and she can reflect upon her own actions more clearly. You've never left a woman unsatisfied and not longing for more before, so how will she react.

Whatever her thoughts on your relationship in the future, she makes it very clear with her hands and tongue that she desires nothing more than to please you right now. Your cock is an object of worship for her, praised inch by inch with dedicated strokes and licks. She starts to slide her tongue along the side of your shaft, rubbing her cheek against your throbbing mast with how closely she smothers your cock with attention. The growing wet streaks of saliva across your length gradually coat your cock more and more. A typical necessary first step for human women that you choose to rut with.

This much deserved reward for protecting her from the slime only gets more heated as each moment passes. Paulina is hardly shy with her moans, letting you hear her enjoyment of servicing you. She wiggles her lips side to side against your cock as she near sings her praises of your taste into your length with "Mmmmmmhmmm~" before kissing her way further down your shaft. Its a lot of work on her part, but it only amounts to a few trails of saliva around the side of your cock that barely reach halfway down your length. The true work needs to begin with a truly open mouth and a well used gullet.

It seems she reaches the same conclusion, and finally musters up the courage to try taking your full girth into her mouth. Straining her jaw around your cockhead, you enjoy the sound of a wet gurgle as you slide your cock in and start to press your tip against the back of her mouth. Her tongue is suppressed beneath your head, curling up to lick the underside with what strokes it can manage while you start to bulge out her cheeks with your mass.

She clearly had some skill in pleasing men, but never one even close to a fraction of your size. Still, the beast you carried between your legs wasn't deterring her. Not that it could with the heady mix of precum and musk that caused a pheromone cocktail in her brain to make her more eager a slut than any copper piece whore.

Her hands don't relent. While they do stall from time to time as she focuses on getting more of her mouth around your delicious fuckstick, she continues to massage your cock with the utmost reverence. Her eyes begin to water as she takes your tip deeper within her, stretching open her throat enough for you to see the bulge of your flared tip shaping her neck. You meet much resistance quickly. If her husband had fucked her throat before, you can't feel whatever work he's done to stretch her out. She feels as tight as a virgin sucking cock for the first time, though her skill would beg to differ. Gagging and spluttering spittle around your cock, she pulls back to give her self a chance to breathe, before lurching forward again and using your dick as a way to stretch her throat open more and train it to take more within her without gagging.

The sounds of wet, messy suction and delirious moans were as music to Magrath's ears. It was almost as sweet as the sight of an otherwise prim and proper woman, dignified and strong-willed, debasing herself so perversely in his honor. It hadn't been all the long before that she had thought to rebuff him with talk of her husband. But after a few minutes of acquainting to his taste, his feel, and his smell, she quickly understood the way of things. Even if her mind did not much wish to agree, her body knew the reality of it: that the beast before her was a superior mate to her own, and that it wanted nothing more than to give itself over to him. The way she so ferociously committed herself to tending his cock was all the proof he needed of that fundamental truth.

He rewarded her easily for her diligent work, letting her hear his deep, bestial rumbles of satisfaction as more and more of his throbbing shaft found comfort in her warm, wet embrace. He wanted more, truly he did, and part of him wanted nothing more than to heft her up and pump her throat like a glorified fuck-toy. Given her current state, he couldn't even believe in confidence she would find it objectionable. But there was something almost more satisfying in allowing her to slowly acclimate to it, by her own hand, and her own efforts. Such that when the haze of lust cleared from her eyes, she would be made to reconcile with the simple fact that she had done all she did because she wanted to do it.

But allowing her to lose herself did not mean he was to take a passive hand in his tending. The big, strong, reassuring hand on the back of her head was there for more than simply stroking her scalp. It was there to encourage her. To goad her forward, into taking more and more of his massive length. When she committed to throwing herself onto his shaft, he pressed just so with his hand, rocking his hips a few inches forward to drive himself further into her gullet. And when the gagging and sputtering stopped, he aided her in pulling back to get a much-needed breath before urging her forward again.

Magrath may have been the first man of such mass Paulina had ever enjoyed, but she was not the first woman to taste his manhood, after all. He had taught others to enjoy it. To worship it, even. He knew just how far to push without breaking her, and so as the moments tipped by, and his balls grew all the heavier with the promise of a big, hard, satisfying release, he shepherded the slutty farm woman toward a whole new world of oral enjoyment, molding her very throat to fit his pride just so.

A practiced hand at taming and training new throats to take your cock, you soon find yourself inching deeper and deeper within her throat. Every few thrusts you hit and then breach a new barrier within her gag reflex. The sticky spluttering that accompanied plunging into a new depth added a delightful mess to the woman's face, her chin and cheeks coated with spittle that began to drip over your cock and down onto her tits. With her dress in such a state and legs spread in the dirt, dignified was far from the list of words that could be used to describe Paulina. A desperate, whorish bitch in heat would be more apt. Her own eyes started to roll back in her head just from the sensation of having her mouth filled to the point of occasionally choking her with the cock of a man other than her husband. The fact that this expression lay on such an otherwise mature and respectable face just made her debasement all the more appealing, stoking within you the prideful flames of a bull defiling his latest conquest.

Paulina was like an animal with how she acted. Her mouth sucked and spread with the need of a instinct driven beast. Would the faintest intelligible thought cross her mind it must only be of the glory of your cock before being drowned out by the noise of her body's base, primal instinct to submit and be used. You watch your accomplishments take shape with the form of your cock stretching its way down her throat, showing a visible bulge to mark your progress with every thrust within her mouth.

Her tits had not lost any of their gleam either. The aftermath of the slime's presence kept them shiny and slippery, swinging with more and more fervour with each bob of her head. Such prizes they were, it was almost a waste to leave them solely to the enjoyment of a man not capable enough to keep her from succumbing to the advances of a superior male such as yourself. With a body like hers, Paulina deserved a real mate, one that could make the most of her curves and talents, one who would leave such an impression in the bedroom - or on a dirt trodden path - to ensure she would never fall to the whims of another male again. It would be a crime not to take her for all she could offer you, and show her the true joy of being bedded by you in the process. If the experience happened to result in her drifting from her current mate in favour for more attention from you, then that just further proved that she rightfully belonged beneath you in your bed. The fact your musk and virility could all but guarantee such an outcome with enough force was irrelevant to the natural order.

There was an intense satisfaction to be had, breaking in such a dignified, willful woman, and with every hot, wet inch that he claimed in her gullet, Magrath could feel the pride swelling in his chest just as the pride between his thighs swelled all the wider. The way she so totally submitted to him felt good. It felt right. Wandering as he did, Mag scarcely had time to form proper relationships with just about anybody. A few girls here or there across the various cities and hamlets, those bold enough to accept his approach, or too submissive to deny him. He'd take them back to his room, carve them out, leave them a twitching mess of a woman, and head back out onto his journey. Occasionally, he'd bed a fellow adventurer, taking them beneath the night sky out in the wilds or beneath the cover of a tent. But nothing that lasted more than a few weeks at a time, leaving them with little more than an unforgettable series of nights and perhaps a little more, if his seed took in his absence.

In Hazelgate... there was an opportunity to make things more permanent. There were surely other women in the town, married or not, who he'd get to know. A few of them would get curious, and get a little closer. One thing would lead to another, and sooner or later, he'd have more women on their knees before him. Gagging until their eyes watered, a mess of pre-cum and spittle, desperate to mold themselves to his cock. Whether it was borrowing the wives of the local farmer folk, or ruining their daughters for other men, he'd have all the time in the world to build up a proper harem, worthy of a big, strong bull like himself.

And it was those thoughts, coupled with the sweet, slick, sexy woman between his legs swallowing ever more desperately around him that saw Mag's nostrils flare once more with lust. The hand on the back of Paulina's head gripped just tight enough to ease her off his massive shaft, and he watched with a sick sense of satisfaction as the bloating in her throat eased with every inch he pulled back. When it finally sprung from between her lips, it was a horribly messy thing, dripping with thick rivets of saliva and strands of his leaking pre. The head flared angrily at the lack of warmth surrounding it, but he was quick enough to remedy that. He ran a strong thumb along Paulina's cheek as he all but leered down at her, meeting her hazy eyes with his own. If it wasn't clear to her what was about to happen then, it would be when he moved his hand to her shoulder and shoved her back down into the dirt below.

Like a beast, his fingers fell to the remains of her dress, and without ceremony, he yanked at the ruined fibers around her glistening bust. Seams shredded as he pulled it apart right down the middle, leaving the tattered ruins to lay at her sides and act as a makeshift blanket between her soft skin and the dirt below. Even lost in his lust as he was, he had the presence of mind, if only barely, to be easier with her panties. His thick digits carefully hooked into whatever undergarments she saw fit to wear, and pulled them around the swell of her hips and down her long, shapely legs. The garment was promptly tossed toward the house, a trophy to keep after he had his fill of the woman to which they belonged.

The scent of her sex nearly sent him into a frenzy, and he could not stop himself from seizing her around the knees with the bear paws he called hands, spreading her legs wide enough to dip his head between her thighs so he could huff at the scent of a woman in desperate need of good, hard breeding. The sticky heat against his bovine muzzle urged him to lap at her soaked pussy, and his long, bestial tongue became well acquainted with her folds as he dragged its length up and down her labia, before allowing it to dive deeper in and savor her taste, slurping hungrily at it all the while.

It was hard to say just how long he spent tonguing her tight, needy quim. It didn't much matter to him at that point. His rationality had quickly begun to fade as he felt himself falling ever further into his most base needs, and after a while, he came up for air, wiping at his messy mussy and rumbling needily. The woman before him was gorgeous. Too gorgeous. She deserved better than some impotent human. She deserved a bull. He deserved to be her bull. The flared shaft between his well-built thighs flexed mightily with that need, and he found himself climbing overtop of her in response, craning his long neck down to bury his nose between her tits and against her neck, breathing deeply of her intoxicating scent. He licked at it madly, tasting the glistening slime and her sweat all the same, barely enough presence of mind to reach between his legs and grab his shaft such that he could line himself up with her, settling himself between her legs as was only proper.

That hand barely had time to slam down into the dirt with its companion, one on either side of her head, his thick wrists resting against her shoulders. His hips rolled forward once, twice, finding resistance both times. It was only with a third, hungry, primal groan that he sunk his powerful hind forward and felt himself find purchase within Paulina. And when Magrath felt himself sinking into the woman he had lusted over for what felt like an eternity, he could not stop himself from crying out in deep, bovine triumph, the mighty bellow of a victorious bull filling the air as he rutted forward once, twice, then three and four times, beginning to utterly fuck his prize into the very fields he meant to claim.

She's little more than a puppet for you to play with as you pull her head back to free your cock from the wet, tight confines of her throat. Enough spit spills forth to have ruined her dress, should any of it still have remained intact around her chest where her saliva now fell. Paulina looked more the part of a well used whore than a respectable community driven woman. And her time at your mercy had only just begun. You press her to the ground with just as much ease. Having enjoyed your musk and precum so deeply and aggressively, there's not an ounce of sense within her head left for her to react to your treatment of her dress. Soon her clothes as destroyed and cast to oblivion as any of her earlier reservations about submitting to your whims, the fabric as futile at keeping you from claiming her as her own willpower. Her wide eyes gaze up at you as you loom over her, drinking in your form as you position her and yourself precisely as you desire. Her panties peel off in a very sticky state, your efforts having earned a clear strand of juices that followed their removal, only to cling to her thighs instead once you pulled your trophy out from between her legs. Her bright pink pussy quivers in the exposed air, capped by a neat brush of straw blonde pubes.

Soon your tongue makes itself known to her depths, finding a home within her folds where you could savour the sweetness that built up between her thighs from your overwhelming influence on her. She shifts on the ground under your attention, no shame or discretion in her own moans as she lets you taste your fill of her. Such a rough and strong tongue, yet another way in which you would dwarf any human in not just size but power too. While the difference may not be as immediately pronounced as that between your cock and a human cock, any woman would still be able to tell the difference with clear and delighted ease. As pent up and at your mercy as she is, it doesn't take too long before you feel an even greater surge of juices. Her thighs shake around your muzzle as she cries out even louder. The first of many orgasms your attention has brought forth from her.

The rest of her body is as much of a banquet for you to enjoy as her cunt was. No claims to modesty, no professional restraint, no marriage vows or objections keeping you from enjoying every inch of her form. She's as much of a beast in need of a good rut as you are right now, and she knows there's no better rut to be had around than with you.

All that was left to do was claim her in the fullest way possible. Deeper and more passionately than her husband ever could.

Her wet cunt welcomes your flared head as if it had been preparing years to take you into her body. Her eyes roll back, lighting up with intense pleasure as long wordless cries and moans follow a listing tongue out of her mouth. Her tits shake with your penetration. The force would have been enough to push her along the ground were you not pinning her in place in this position. Each thrust you break her in more and more, stretching her to a greater extant than any man had. Not in town long enough to even see the inside of your new home and the first of potentially many women now lay beneath you ready to be fucked beyond the point of being content with a human man ever again.

Four times became eight, and eight became sixteen and so on as Magrath settled into a deep, bitch-breaking rhythm. The muscles of his powerful back tensed as he used his strength to really rut against the soft, welcoming body beneath him, every rock of his hips sending his massive length ever deeper until there was no more room left to claim. His hooves dug deep trenches into the ground beneath them as he used the very earth itself for leverage, pumping between Pauline's thighs like the beast in heat that he truly was. Held above her atop powerful arms, he watched her writhe and gasp beneath him, watched her big, beautiful tits bounce with the strength of his thrusting, forced to pendulum around hypnotically as he took his pleasure. There was no place he would rather be, claiming her deepest parts for his own and letting his darkest instincts drive him into a breeding frenzy even the most stalwart woman was unlikely to ever forget.

Each drop of his hips was like a cacophony of pleasure. The sharp, wet suction as he pistoned in and out of her, the way his huge balls swung down to clap against her ass, and of course the whorish moans and breathless gasps that accompanied each hurried bottoming out. He wasn't shy with his praise either, although long had he since lost his more humanoid vocalizations: his grunts were more animal than human, deep and primal, accompanied by the occasional, rumbling bellow as a particular stroke stirred his packed balls to swell all the more, the sensation of mating driving his frenzy all the higher.

But the fire in him was not an easy one to extinguish. Inhuman virility kept his rut going and going, giving his mate no pause from the exquisite, mind-melting pleasure that came with submitting to a proper bull. He didn't stop, not when she came the second or third times, only slowing enough for her to really feel him atop her, to let her cling and buck and hump against him in her throes, milking the monstrous shaft that saw fit to ruin her for all other men. And the moment she slackened, and fell back into the dirt below, he was right back at it again, pumping and pumping and pumping, his implacable hips swinging between her legs like a machine, leaving them to dangle limply on either side, her toes curling with the rhythm of their coupling.

Sweat rolled down his back and chest as he labored atop her for what felt like hours. For what might have actually been hours, given the depth of his appetites. The heat rolled off him like so much thick, musky steam, as he felt himself driven close to that terrible release that lurked within him. The drive to ensure his lineage was strong with Paulina, and as the pressure built within him, he found his strokes growing all the more wild. His hands left her shoulders at some point, grasping madly at her hips to hold her right where he needed her. He straightened up, pulling her up off the ground so she was suspended only by his powerful grip, his arms pulling her into him as he picked up the pace. The huge slab of muscle he called a stomach rippled and tensed as the pressure built and built, and if Paulina had a semblance of sense left in her mind, she'd know what was coming, if not from that, then the way he seemed to buck inside her.

It was only a matter of time before he found his release. Before he cemented his claim on her for good.