A while back I had the idea for a proper OC/Fursona/Whateverthefuck who was a psychic minotaur whose horn color reflected whatever powers he was using. The other night I came up with a proper listing of his various psychic powers and started writing a little story to go along with it. 3,500 words later, I have this little piece of hotness to show for it. Now if I can just find me an artist to do art of this character! Anyhow, I hope somebody gets as much enjoyment out of reading it as I did writing it.
Tags: TiTS, Blowjob, Mind Control, Blowjob, M/F, Cock-Worship, Maledom, Fen’s OC
Derri sighed and rolled her oily-looking drink in her glass. She couldn’t believe her luck. It was bad enough she was stuck out here on the frontier, away from proper civilization, surrounded by savages who looked more interested in rutting than talking. Why did the drinks have to suck too? Why did she have to swallow tripe that burned her sensitive feline tongue while some backwater meathead eyefucked her from behind a pair of pink-glowing horns.
At least those are tasteful. She took another sip and regarded him over the rim of the glass. The guy was positively built, that much was true. His shoulders were broad and muscled enough to clearly show through his short, charcoal fur. Derri’s cat-like ears swivelled behind her as she looked on, intent on taking in the measure of the mysterious brute. A cartoonishly thick bulge strained a pair of leather pants that would’ve made the kaithrit laugh on any other day.
Today, she found herself thinking that this guy wasn’t her usual type at all. She liked them thin, and pretty. The kind of boy with an easy smile who looked pretty in a collar. It wasn’t like her to spend a minute tracing her eyes over sixteen inches of glossy, leather-wrapped cock, memorizing every detail.
Derri knocked back the rest of her drink in one tremendous gulp. No more of those. The collar of her catsuit was constrictive. Annoying. She tugged at it, realizing how hot she had gotten inside. Temperature was one thing the SteeleTech suit should regulate with ease, but this was something else, an emotion she didn’t expect to experience tonight: arousal. Now that she thought about it, Derri could identify it as plain as day in her body’s behavior. Two stiff nipples proudly advertised her moderate chest’s ripeness for the taking. True, she was average with E-cups, but that was plenty to fill a boy – or brute’s – hand. More pressing was the growing slickness between her legs. She was wet enough to feel the suit flossing through her folds with every shift of position. No look into her glass’s reflection was necessary to display her flushed cheeks.
Shaking her head, the kaithrit wrenched her view from between the smiling bull’s legs and back to the bar. It was hard. Every inch she left behind felt like dragging herself a mile up a mountainside, and abandoning the bulging, blunt tip for simple wood grain somehow seemed like craven failure. Had his horns always glowed so brightly? Had she always had a thing for guys with horse-dicks?
Was one look all it took to make her a slut for horse-cock?
Tails wagging furtively behind her, Derri bit her lip. It kind of had. She could still see the shape of it when she closed her eyes, lingering in her retinas. More importantly, she was pretty sure she could almost smell the guy, owing to her keen cat-like nose. One deep breath, and hints of leather-bound musk were tickling her olfactory nerves, intermingled with something that reminded her of an old growth forest near where she grew up.
Mr. Big-Dick across the way actually smelled… pretty good.
Derri giggled at her own stupidity. Here she was, acting all bent out of shape about the locale when there is a big, fuckable sack of meat across the bar so enticing that she was turning the inside of her jumpsuit into a sauna. Tugging at the neckline once more, the tangy aroma of her own arousal revealed itself, strong enough that even a human could smell it, if any were lucky enough to sit next to her. Fortunately, she sat alone.
“Hey there,” rumbled a voice halfway between bass instrument and boy. “You alright?”
Scabbling against the polished woodgrain, Derri nearly backflipped out of her seat before her brain caught up with her feline instincts. “Y-yeah.” She nervously scratched at the back of her neck, unaware of how the action thrust her chest toward the newcomer. It was him.
“You seemed like you could use some company.” The big galut wasn’t even bothering with a shirt.
Derri was free to check out his pecs, built up by hours upon hours of hard work at the gym, capped by two rings of shining gold on his ink-black nipples. She wondered what he tasted like. Her nose flared. He certainly smelled good. Rubbing her knees together, the cat-girl smiled prettily and struggled mightily to keep her eyes from slipping further south. She was acutely aware of her heart hammering through her own chest, each beat making her nipples bigger and more visible, better highlighted through her suit.
“Yeah,” she lamely agreed, looking deep into his eyes.
They were green.
His laugh was heavy and rich, punctuated by sharp bursts of air that slammed out of him with the force of an axe into a tree trunk. “We aren’t in the core, girl.” He placed a hand on her knee, squeezed with the sort of familiarity she’d find offensive from a lesser specimen. “You can look if you want.” He tapped the seam of his pants, releasing a hidden seam above his crotch. A puff of thick hairs and the scent of cock slipped out. “You can smell if you like.” He shifted closer, and took her hand in his. It felt big enough to crush her whole arm. “Or do more.” He brought her fingers down to the straining behemoth beneath, letting her feel his heartbeat through a rod of turgid, beast-dick. “Nobody cares.”
Derri was on the edge of hyperventilating. She shouldn’t be so rabidly excited at the prospect of laying her hands on this… hunk‘s enormous dick. She couldn’t. Yet here she was, trembling and gently squeezing him through the supple leather of his pants, absolutely loving the way his phallic flesh throbbed back against her palm. Against her better judgement, she adored this, debauchery and all. The knowledge that was sitting in a seedy rimward bar and playing with a local through his too-tight pants made it hotter – made her needier.
When she shifted in her chair, Derri’s jumpsuit squished, wetter than a scullery maid’s sponge.
Local boy must have heard it, because he choose that moment to pull her onto his knee.
Pussyjuice ran freely down Derri’s thighs, marinating her in her own liquid eagerness. She danced her fingers higher up her burly suitor’s leather-bound tool, paradoxically climbing closer to the half-concealed sheath and its close-cropped crotch fur. Now that she could touch his pubes, she discovered that they were coarse and curly, a little oily-feeling to her touch. In a word, they felt primal, like the pelt of some ancient beast. It made her feel a little wetter, if such a thing were possible, a little more like she was inch away from getting bent over and mounted, but more importantly, it meant she had access to the trouser’s invisible fastener – and the ability to peel it down.
“Careful, girl.” His voice rumbled through his knee into her sex. “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”
Feeling contrary, Derri gave the fastener a quick yank, unearthing the first nine inches of the minotaur-boy’s length. It glistened in the bar’s dim light. A black sheath, glossy and soft-looking, bunched about about its base, giving way to a long, smooth pink shaft, ribbed by veins as thick around as her pinky finger. It lurched upward, straining to rise, but a full cock’s worth of length remained pinned under his pant leg. Petting it, the kaithrit smiled up at the shocked male, his bovine nostrils flaring wide in surprise and arousal. Good, she thought, he can be surprised.
“I wasn’t planning on biting anything tonight,” Derri whispered into his ear, tugging his zipper low enough to free another three inches of gleaming, perfect dick. Her mouth and pussy watered at the sight. Was this something only the most depraved bar-slut would do?
His horns filled her vision with that fetching pink glow just as his musk filled her nostrils.
And her mind with the sudden impulse to be as slutty as possible.
Spinning off the bovine adonis’s knee, she made the best of her cat-like agility and pivoted onto her own, square between his legs. A nip forward pressed her nose to his pants’ release, undoing the one binding left restraining his python.
Hard, pulsating cock sprang upward, slapping her on cheek on its way. She didn’t mind in the slightest. No, Derri craved it. Contact with such a primally attractive vessel made her gush and whimper. It made her mouth drool and her pupils dilate. Just looking at it was like beholding a mountain of pure, masculine eroticism. It pressed down on her very psyche. It made her eyes cross and her nipples perk. She nuzzled into it, and felt her cunt weep for joy. Pressing it to the side of her face nearly made her cum.
“I warned you.”
His voice thrummed into her ear and melted down what little resistance she had left. It dripped out of her quivering thighs with the rest. “Hrmmm?” Derri rolled her face under the his big, pink horse-dick, careless of the webs of pre hanging from the head’s rounded tip. She wanted him to talk again. Stroking him with nothing but her fingertips, she rubbed His dick into her face and purred.
“I warned you,” He repeated, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her up his length, drooling a trail of pre-slime across her hair and down her forehead in the process. “It’s a lot for you to handle all at once.” The beast-man pulled his dick back so he could look down her desperate, gasping face. “Why don’t you start with my balls, little kitty, and if you do a good enough job, I’ll give you back to the shaft.”
Balls. Of course. The cunt-soaked kaithrit looked straight forward into her prince’s velvety black sack. The balls were huge, bigger than she thought balls could be. And the smell… between the cock above and the balls ahead it was hard to do much thinking. Every breath was filled with the aroma of her pussy being completely, irrevocably impregnated. She leaned forward and nuzzled into them, her mind full of the thought of that cock slipping into her, splitting her open with the greatest of ease.
Tonight was going to ruin her for lesser men, but that was fine as far as Derri was concerned. For now, she was perfectly content to open her mouth and plant sloppy kisses upon this lord… her Lord’s taut, sweaty sack, to worship his two alters with all that she had. Nevermind that she had gotten so wet that she could feel her jumpsuit gliding across her E-cup tits on curtains of vaginal lubricant: she had balls to polish. And polish them Derri did. Every inch received no less than four kisses and six swipes of her tongue.
She bathed her brutish King’s balls in oral affection until she was breathing hard and whimpering in the back of her throat, drunk on pheromones and the maddening closeness to a pouch stuffed full of virile load. Stars, how she wanted it inside her. She’d lick his balls for hours, just for a taste of his cum. Derri’s lust for nut seemed boundless. Every time she thought she would find herself satisfied, her lips locked back onto those lovely onyx orbs. They looked too good not to.
“Good girl,” Derri’s Lord growled from high above. “You look so pretty like that.”
Tails thrashing, Derri looked up with eyes full of delight. Lips pursed and smeared with spit and ballsweat, she felt like the prettiest girl in the world.
“You know I’m messing with your head, right?”
Derri looked back to the comforting curves of his balls as she mulled that tidbit over. It made sense. She wasn’t normally this depraved… or aroused… and she certainly didn’t find herself smearing kisses onto a jaw-droppingly beautiful pair of balls to help her relax. “Yeah I guess.”
“And you don’t care?”
What did it matter? There was nothing she could do about it. Might as well enjoy herself. Derri gently cradled the thick, swinging cum-sacks and kissed the velvety flesh in between. “If I care, are you going to let me at that dick?”
“Stars, you’re something special.” The regally endowed minotaur chuckled and dropped his dick back onto her face with a meaty slap. It was harder than before, and a good deal wetter. Pre was oozing out of it in a steady flow now, drenching her face in phallic excitement. “It’s yours for as long as you want it, but I think I’m going to owe you a drink for your trouble… a couple drinks, even.”
Derri giggled gleefully and wrapped her hand around that ludicrously lovely slab of dick, or as far around it as her petite fingers would reach. “As long as I want it.” Her voice pitched higher than normal, breathier too. She sounded like a slutty little trollop. “What if I always want it?” Her lips made contact with the medial bulge, savoring the salty-sweet taste of sweat and prick-juice intermingled. “What if I’m never letting this magnificent horse-cock out of my sight again?” Derri ducked low, all the way to the musky folds her Lord’s sheath, and licked upward, long and slow, feeling the pre-cum roll over the edges of her tongue and down the sides of her face as she painted on spit in its place. “What if I require an hour of mouth-on-dick time for every thirty minutes you get alone?”
Saying as much felt like treachery. This man felt like her King after all, the Lord of her whole universe, but he also promised her his dick, as much as she wanted. And she wanted it so badly. The thought of going a single day away from this position, nestled nicely into the slot between his thighs… it hurt in an almost physical way. There would be a horse-cock-shaped hole in her soul for the rest of her days if he left now.
The big bull seemed taken aback but no less hard for her insolence. “Uh… I guess I’ll need some crotchless pants then.”
That sounded heavenly. Derri could see him in her mind’s eye, strutting around in a brand new pair of crotchless leather pants, his dick always half-hard and free for easy access. She could reach under the table and jack him off until he got big and sloppy – like now, then slip under and take the blunt, animalistic head into her mouth for a good long suck, just like the one she was starting to give him now. Stars! His pre was like nectar, his skin tastier than the finest steak. Whorling her tongue around circles, she gathered as much of her Lordly mate’s juices as she could into a ball to swallow. To her delight, as soon as one deposit went down, a fresh one oozed onto her tongue.
“D-damn girl, if you keep sucking like that…” The statement never received a proper conclusion.
Would he pull her off and fuck her in front of everyone, peeling open her suit so that everyone in the room could smell how wet she was? Would he grab her by the fluff at the tips of her ears and drag her down until her lips were buried in his sheath? Would he lose all control and erupt like a well-endowed porn-star, spewing liter after liter of gene-augmented jizz over her entire body?
Derri stuffed her free hand’s fingers into his sheath to explore the sensitive space between the cock and its equine wrapper, finding a slick, musky pocket. Every wiggle of her fingers was answered by a throb and a groan from the masterful brute above. Speaking around a mouthful of beast-dick, Derri apologized, “I’m sorry but I just need your cum inside me right now.”
Cum had never been something she had lusted after before. It had been an inconvenience, something to be bottled up in a condom or wiped up with a damp towel. But every droplet of pre-cum she tasted left her wanting more, to say nothing of the time she spent nuzzling her face into His wonderful, beautiful balls. The scales had been ripped from Derri’s eyes. Cum wasn’t just an annoyingly sticky fluid, it was the distillation of hours worth of eroticism, a prize that the male body only let loose for the most beautiful, sinfully skilled sluts.
Well, now that she was feeling like a slut, Derri wanted it. She wanted to drink it. She pumped the shaft, wringing more pre-cum into her throat, helping her to bob a bit deeper than the first five inches. She wanted to feel… this guy. She didn’t even know his name yet, but she didn’t need to. To her, he was King Horse-Cock, and she was his loyal, dick-addled slut. She worked over the inside of his shaft, and the air in front of her seemed to fog. His cock’s pheromones were so thick and cloying that they were actually visible.
Derri popped off and looked upward proudly. Ropes of pre-cum were jetting everywhere: onto her porcelain skin, into her hair, and onto her dick-glazed lips. She wished she could see herself in that moment as she started to beg, “Please, cum.” She jacked the sloppy, leaky dick with both hands now, one above the medial ring and one below. The tip flared wide. “Please cum for me.” Her clitty ached in an exquisitely pleasant way. “More.” Pre-cum wasn’t enough. “I need mo-“
A tsunami of white crested in front of Derri and spilled into her whorishly begging mouth, silencing her in one sticky instant. It tasted better than the pre-cum – not sweeter, but better. The warm goo seemed to sizzle on her tongue, sparking long-forgotten nerves that felt tied from her mouth to the scintillating pleasure in her pussy. Swallowing was almost as good as having the steaming load spilled directly into her slit. Stopping to properly admire the taste was impossible, for the kaithrit couldn’t halt her gluttonous hunger from devouring every drop.
She milked Him into her mouth, and when there was no room left there, onto her face. Derri pumped and stroked, every swallow bringing with it unearthly, incomprehensible contentment. The cum was her world, and she debased herself in it until she couldn’t remember how to swallow. There was only the taste and creamy warmth, keeping her simple mind busy while he did something to the neck of her jumpsuit.
Then the rest of her was just as warm. Streaks of heat coated her tits and her belly. Her suit was a sexual slip-and-slide, and Derri was too busy licking cum off her teeth and climaxing to care. Bubbles formed and dissipated, spread over her nubile body by the high-tech fabric’s tension.
“Good god, you look hot like that.” The bull sighed, yanking his cock out of her suit.
Derri whimpered, lazily shoveling sperm into her mouth. It bubbled from her nose and cascaded down her hair. “You like me like this?” Her voice came out slurred. She burped and tittered, scooping spunk out of her eyes to slowly lick from her fingertips. Between the suit and her fingers, another layer of sex-juice slithered around. Every movement was a debauched exercise in cum-sluttery. Derri had never felt more alive.
“Guess I better undo some of this…” King Cock seemed saddened, his dick sliding halfway toward flaccid.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” Derri sucked him into her mouth to cheer him up. After an eternity of licking, she supplied, “Do you have any idea how fun this was? How absolutely freeing it was to be like this, with you, in the middle of all these people without a care in the world.” She rubbed her pussy through the suit, undoubtedly forcing some of his cum into her folds. “Did you think that maybe, just maybe, I’d like being your cum-guzzlingslut way more than a grouchy freighter pilot?”
“It hadn’t… uh… occured to me.”
“That’s because you’ve got this big… sexy… dick using up all your blood.” Derri licked it again, snuggled up alongside it. “Hard to think of anything else when it needs pleasing, right?” She pinched a nipple and clung to to the side of her bovine King. “Why don’t I take care of that for you on the regular.” She kissed one nut, then the other. “If I keep these nice and empty, you’ll have plenty of time to think about treating me nice.”
Sagging back into his chair, He took a long pull from a drink. “I’m going to get a clearer opinion out of that pretty little head of yours in the morning… but for now, why don’t you see if you can squeeze out another load before my balls overflow.”
“Another load…?” Derri’s mouth was suddenly full of saliva once more. Weirdly, the pink glow was gone. The hunky beast-man’s horns had changed to green, but more seriously his balls were audibly churning. She could hear them flooding with a new batch of semen, stickier and saltier than the last. It made her dizzy just thinking about it. With both hands stroking, Derri managed to at last ask, “What should I call you?”
Those balls got hotter and heavier. Derri could hardly stop herself from slobbering over them while awaiting her reply.
“You can just call me Fen.”
It took a month before she stopped calling him King Horse-Cock.