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Pairing: FemReader x Minotaur(s)
Category: F/M
Raiting: Explicit
Summary: You are chained to a pillory deep beneath the fighting pits, where victorious Minotaur warriors come to indulge themselves on the helpless slaves kept below.
Tags & Warnings: Monsterfucking, Slavery, Size Difference, Praise and Degradation, Dirty Talk, Blow Job, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, Dominant Minotaur, Rough Sex
The damp stone beneath you chilled your knees to the bone, but the heat from above bled through every crack in the ceiling—thunderous roars, the clash of blades, the wet crunch of hooves on flesh. The pits.
The wooden pillory clamped your neck and bound your arms, forcing your back into an aching arch, your ass thrust out, your pussy exposed and dripping a slow trickle of seed that wasn’t yours.
You’d lost count of how many had used you. Minotaur after minotaur stomping down the stone steps, sweat-slicked with victory or bruised from defeat, sick of fighting and hungry for release. They’d grunt, grab, and fuck—sometimes in your mouth, sometimes your cunt, often both, and on the foulest nights, your ass until you screamed yourself hoarse. Now your holes were swollen, slick, a mess of mingled cum that ran down your thighs, but your body still throbbed, still craved more in some twisted, humiliated corner of your mind.
Heavy hooves clomped down the stairs, each step a drumbeat of dread. Your heart hammered faster. You couldn’t turn your head, only stare at the mold-blackened wall, but the musk hit you first—beast-stench of sweat, blood, and rutting male. He was huge; you felt the air shift as he ducked through the low doorway, heard the gruff snort of satisfaction when he saw you.
“Still hungry, little whore?” His voice was a rockslide—deep, grinding, amused. “I watched my brother fuck your ass. Saw you cream on his cock like a bitch in heat.”
This was your job. A minotaur’s slave. To be their amusement, their little fucktoy. And you were one of their favourites in those rooms beneath the fighting pits.
He fisted your hair, yanking your head back so brutally your spine arched, the pillory groaning in protest. Your neck strained, throat bared, eyes watering as you stared up at the dripping stone ceiling.
“Now you’ll take me. Every inch. Every hole.”
He didn’t wait. Those thick fingers dragged your jaw down, forcing your mouth open just as his other hand freed his cock. It swung heavy, a bull-prick veined and dark, the tip already beading with slick. The musky, salty scent flooded your senses before he shoved it past your lips, stretching your jaw obscenely wide.
You gagged, throat constricting, but he only grunted deeper and pumped in, one hand still tight in your hair, using your mouth like a sheath. Your drool slicked his shaft, mixing with the salt of his pre-cum, and he fucked your face with slow, brutal strokes, the wooden pillory creaking with each thrust.
“Tongue, you stupid cunt. Lick.” He pressed deeper, and you obeyed, flattening your tongue along the veined underside as he slid in and out, breathing in grunts. Your eyes watered, tears cutting tracks through the filth on your cheeks, but your pussy clenched on nothing, aching, leaking anew. You could feel the old cum being pushed out, a fresh trickle of your own arousal joining it. Shame heated your skin even as your hips gave a helpless little jerk.
As you gag and struggle, he laughs, a cruel, triumphant sound.
“Keep sucking it, you filthy little slut. Show me how much you want it.”
You moan around his cock, your eyes pleading, but he ignores.He thrusts deeper, his balls slapping against your chin, and he can feel your warm, wet mouth enveloping his length.
He pulled out with a wet pop, leaving a strand of spit bridging your swollen lips. Laughing, he released your hair and prowled around behind you. Rough, calloused palms grabbed your ass, kneading the bruised flesh, spreading your cheeks until your slick, puffy folds parted with a lewd squelch.
You moaned—couldn’t stop it—as his thumb circled your asshole, pressing, promising.
“Such a greedy fucking slut. Look at this cunt, gaping for more.” He lined up his cock and slammed home in one savage thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside your sopping pussy.
The pillory rammed against your collarbone, the chains clashing as your whole body jolted forward. You screamed, but it melted into a broken wail of pleasure. He was so thick, stretching you past what you thought you could take, and the filthy wet sound of him pounding into you blended with the distant roar of the arena.
“Louder. Let them all hear you.”
He didn’t stop. His hips snapped like a beast’s, each drive shoving you forward, the chains biting into your wrists. He growled filth into your ear, low and venomous.
“You’re nothing but a set of holes for bulls to empty their seed into. A little cum-dumpster, taking my cock so eagerly. You love this, don’t you? Love being fucked raw in the dark.”
Could you deny it? Your pussy rippled around him, a wanton, traitorous clench that made you sob with shame and relief when he grunted his approval. He shifted his angle, and then a thumb—wet from your own juices—pushed against your asshole, breaching you, stretching you while his cock still sawed into your cunt. The double fullness made your vision blur, your toes curl uselessly against the stone.
“Now you’ll take me here,” he snarled, and pulled out of your pussy with a squelch. Before you could gasp, he notched the blunt head of his cock against your squeezed-shut rear and thrust.
The pain was bright, white-hot, then bloomed into a thick, consuming pressure as he forced his way into your ass, inch by brutal inch. He buried himself to the base with a roar, balls slapping your drenched pussy.
“That’s it, cream on my cock, you filthy ass-whore.”
His hand wrapped around your throat from behind, squeezing just enough to make the world sparkle and your cunt clench on nothing. He rutted into your rear with punishing, grunting thrusts, spewing obscenities with every breath.
“Gonna pump your bowels full. Gonna make you leak my seed for days. You’ll fucking thank me.”
And you did—you babbled, begged, moaned his praises as your body shattered, a sudden, violent orgasm ripping through you that made your ass tighten and milk his cock with desperate, clutching spasms. He snarled, fucking you through it, then slammed deep one last time, his hot cum flooding your rear in thick, pulsing jets. You felt it fill you, hot and obscene, dripping out around his base as he ground against you, grunting his release.
He pulled out slowly, chuckling at the sucking sound your body made, and swatted your ass hard enough to bruise.
“Rest up, slave. The pits aren’t done fighting.”
His seed began to leak from both holes, a slow, filthy rivulet down your trembling thighs, and you heard another pair of hooves starting down the steps.
Pairing: Aspasia x White Minotaur
Category: F/M
Raiting: Explicit
Summary: A curious virgin enters the labyrinth to offer herself to the white Minotaur who has haunted her fantasies for years.
Tags & Warnings: Monsterfucking, Virgin, Size Difference, Praise and Degradation, Dirty Talk, Blow Job, Vaginal Sex, Dominant Minotaur, Breast Play, Rough Sex, Religious Imagery
inspired by this art
For years she’d listened to the whispered tales—of the great white beast in the dark, his size, his strength, the way the chosen ones returned with trembling legs and distant eyes, speaking of being filled and used. Her body had learned the meaning before her mind fully did. Between her thighs, a persistent ache pulsed every time the stories drifted through her window. Now, barefoot and clad in a thin shift that clung to her tanned skin, she walked into the black maw of the maze.
Green eyes strained to adjust to the gloom. Long dark curls clung to her sweaty neck as her hands brushed the rough walls. She was smaller than the shadows that danced around her, a virgin offering herself to curiosity and heat she barely understood.
A low, rumbling laugh echoed through the corridors, making the stones vibrate against her palms. Her breath caught. Then she saw him.
The Minotaur stepped into a patch of filtered moonlight, and he was more than she’d ever imagined. Massive, towering over her with a coat of pure white fur that seemed to glow in the dim. Piercings glinted—a thick silver ring through his nostril and barbells that pierced each dark, pebbled nipple on his broad chest. His snout was bovine, black-lipped and glistening, horns curling back from his skull like weapons. But her gaze fell inexorably lower, to the thick, veined cock that hung between his legs, stirring as he watched her. Even half-hard, it was a monstrosity—fleshy and pink at the tip, shaft as thick as her forearm, with heavy balls that swung beneath. He presented himself with a thrust of his hips, a lazy hand coming down to grip his girth and give it a slow pump.
Aspasia’s mouth went dry. Awe rooted her to the spot, her body betraying her with a flood of wetness between her legs. She didn’t even know the word for it, but her pussy clenched on emptiness, a needy pulse that made her knees weak.
“Well, well,” the Minotaur’s voice was a deep rumble, a scrape of gravel over velvet. He stepped closer, the heat radiating off him like a forge. His black eyes fixed on her with a hungry, possessive gleam. “Look what wandered into my den. A sweet little cunt, trembling and ripe.” He reached out with his free hand, fingers tangling in her hair, and yanked her head back. She gasped, a shiver running down her spine. “You’ve heard the stories, haven’t you, little one? Felt your hole get all slick thinking about me while you rubbed your clit under your blankets?”
She managed a shaky nod, words stolen by the sight of his cock now standing proud, pointing right at her face.
He laughed again, a dark, dirty sound.
“Of course you did. All you village sluts do. You offer yourselves up to be broken.”
With that, he released her hair and grabbed the front of her shift, ripping it from her body in one brutal tear. The fabric fell away, exposing her tanned, slender form and the high, full breasts that bounced free. Her nipples hardened instantly in the cool air.
“Nice tits for such a tiny thing.”
He shoved her down to her knees on the cold stone floor. Aspasia knelt there, trembling, her green eyes wide and fixed on the massive cock bobbing inches from her face. A deep blush spread across her cheeks as she stared.
“Look at you, all red and staring like you’ve never seen a real cock before,” he growled, reaching down to cup her breasts in his large hands. His rough palms squeezed the soft flesh, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples, rolling and pinching them until she whimpered. “These are perfect for my hands. So perky and full on such a small body.”
He played with them roughly, lifting and kneading, watching her blush deepen as she kept staring at his cock.
“Don’t be so shy, little virgin,” he said, voice dripping with mockery and lust. “Touch it. Wrap those fingers around your god’s cock and feel what’s going to own you.”
Aspasia hesitated, but he didn’t wait. He grabbed the back of her head and pushed her face forward, grinding the hot, veined shaft against her cheek and lips.
“Open up and suck it,” he commanded, voice low and dominant. “Worship this cock like the offering you are. Lick and suck until it’s dripping with your spit.”
Aspasia’s hands shook as she lifted them, her small fingers barely wrapping around the thick base of his cock. The heat of it burned against her palms, pulsing with life, veins throbbing under her touch. She stroked tentatively, eyes still locked on the massive pink head that leaked steadily now, smearing her skin with each pass.
The Minotaur groaned low, his massive chest heaving as he watched her explore.
“That’s it, little slut. Feel how heavy it is? How it’s going to ruin every hole you’ve got?”
His hands returned to her breasts, squeezing harder this time, fingers digging into the soft flesh while his thumbs flicked and twisted her stiff nipples. Each pinch sent sparks straight between her legs, making her thighs press together.
He pushed his hips forward, grinding the full length across her face again, the musky shaft leaving wet trails over her cheeks and lips.
“Don’t just stare. Lick it. Show your god how grateful you are.”
Her tongue darted out, tasting salt and something wild as she dragged it along the underside from base to tip.
“Good girl. Now open wide and worship.”
Aspasia parted her lips, taking the broad head into her mouth. It stretched her jaw painfully, but she sucked eagerly, tongue swirling around the slit to lap up the constant flow of pre-cum. He thrust shallowly, feeding more of the veined shaft past her lips while his hands kept working her tits, rolling the mounds and tugging the nipples until she moaned around his girth.
"Hands on my balls," he ordered, and her trembling fingers immediately cupped the heavy sack, massaging gently. "That's it. Worship every fucking inch. I want you covered in my pre-cum before I take that cherry."
He pulled out only to let her breathe, then pushed back in deeper. Spit bubbled around his shaft, dripping down onto her tits. Her muffled moans vibrated around his cock, only making him harder.
“Deeper,” he ordered, one hand moving to the back of her head, guiding her. She gagged as he pushed further, spit dripping down her chin onto her breasts, but she kept sucking, hollowing her cheeks.
He pulled back just enough to let her breathe, then thrust again, face-fucking her slowly at first.
“Look at you, blushing and drooling all over my cock. You love this, don’t you?” His fingers pinched her nipples sharply, twisting as he ground against her face one last time before easing back. “Keep sucking, sweet girl.”
She obeyed. The Minotaur grunted approval and thrust deeper, forcing another inch past her tongue until her throat convulsed around him.
"That's it, choke on your god's meat," he growled, both hands now gripping her curly hair to hold her steady while he pumped in short, rough strokes.
Her small hands never stopped moving—one pumping the base of his cock, the other rolling his heavy balls, feeling them tighten under her touch. He pulled out suddenly, letting her gasp for air, then slapped the wet shaft across her face again, leaving a glistening trail from cheek to forehead.
"Stand up," he ordered, yanking her to her feet by the hair. He spun her around and bent her over a low stone ledge, one massive hand pressing between her shoulder blades to keep her down. With his hand he grabbed his cock and rubbed the broad head up and down her crack, smearing pre-cum over her ass before sliding it between her thighs to grind against her entrance without pushing in.
Aspasia whimpered, pushing back, desperate for more.
“Please..." she breathed, voice hoarse from sucking him.
"Beg louder. Tell your god what you want." He lined up properly, the massive head pressing insistently against her tiny opening. "Say it."
Aspasia whimpered, her whole body trembling. Her cunt clenched desperately at the slight pressure, so close to being filled, but he held her right on the edge. "Please... I want... I want you to..."
"Say it right," he interrupted, leaning down until his hot breath ghosted over her ear. "Tell me exactly what you want your god to do to this tight little human cunt."
She swallowed hard, face burning with shame and arousal in equal measure. "I want you to... fuck me," she whispered, the words strange and dirty on her tongue. "I want your big cock inside me. Please take me—"
He released her hair and gave her ass a hard slap, the sound echoing off the labyrinth walls. "Louder."
He flipped her over to see her face, her legs dangled off the edge, spread wide, her green eyes forced to meet his animal gaze. His cock jutted between them, the leaking tip smearing across her belly.
Aspasia's chest heaved, her breasts rising and falling as she forced herself to hold his stare. "Please, great Minotaur... fuck me," she begged, voice cracking but growing louder. "Ruin my me with your huge godly cock. I want to feel you inside. Please... I need it. I've dreamed of this since I first heard them whisper your name. Please—fuck me. Make me yours."
A dark chuckle rumbled from deep in his chest. He cupped her chin, his thumb dragging across her parted lips. He lined up, the massive head pressing against her slippery folds. Aspasia's eyes widened.
He pushed. Just the tip, stretching her virgin opening wide. Aspasia's breath caught, a sharp sting mixing with overwhelming pressure. He paused there, letting her feel the intrusion, watching her face twist with pain and pleasure.
"Too much?" he mocked, but didn't move. "Too bad. You begged. Now you take it."
He pushed again, sliding deeper. Her inner walls clamped down on him, impossibly tight, but he kept going—slow, unrelenting—until he bottomed out with a grunt, his heavy balls pressed against her ass. Aspasia's head fell back, a choked sob escaping her throat as her body struggled to accommodate the sheer size of him.
"So fucking tight," he snarled, leaning down to lick the tears from her cheek. "And so fucking full of your god. And I haven't even started fucking you yet."
His hips drew back—slow, the ridged length of his cock dragging against her clinging walls, every vein and contour making her gasp. Aspasia's fingers dug into the stone ledge, knuckles white. Then he slammed forward, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. The wet slap echoed through the labyrinth, and her scream tore from her throat.
"Fuck," he growled, white-furred hips pressing hard against her open thighs. "Feel that, little offering? That's your god using what's his."
He didn't wait for her to adjust. He fucked into her with a primal rhythm—deep, punishing strokes that shoved her small body back with each impact, only for his grip on her hips to yank her forward onto his cock again. Her tits bounced with every thrust, her dark curls wild around her flushed face. Tears streaked her cheeks, mixing with sweat and the saliva still drying on her chin.
"Look at you," he taunted, one hand leaving her hip to wrap around her throat. Not squeezing yet—just holding, thumb stroking her racing pulse. "Tight little human cunt stretched so full. You were made for this. Made to be my toy."
Aspasia couldn't form words. Her green eyes rolled back as his cock hit something deep inside that sent sparks of agonized pleasure through her belly. She could feel him in her throat, in her chest, everywhere. Her virgin blood slicked his shaft, a dark smear that made him grunt with satisfaction.
"That's right, bleed on my cock," he murmured, tightening his grip on her throat just enough that her breath went shallow. "Mark me with that cherry you gave up so eager. Now I'm going to fuck you harder. I'm going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name."
He dropped his hand from her throat to grab both her wrists, pinning them above her head against the stone. The new angle arched her back, thrusting her tits up toward his face. He lowered his pierced muzzle and caught one nipple between his teeth, the cold metal of his ring pressing against her sensitive flesh. He bit down, and her shriek was muffled by the relentless pounding of his hips.
Faster now. The wet sounds of their fucking became obscene, a rhythmic squelch that filled the chamber. His heavy balls slapped against her ass with each thrust. Precum and her own juices dripped down her thighs, pooling on the stone beneath her. Aspasia could feel something building in her core, a pressure that made her pussy flutter and clench around him against her will.
"You’re going to cum?" he rasped, releasing her nipple to look at her face. Her mouth was open, panting, eyes glassy. "You're going to cum on your god's cock while he ruins this little hole? Do it. Let me feel it."
He pistoned harder, brutally fast now, the head of his cock hammering that spot inside her that made her see stars. Aspasia shattered. Her orgasm ripped through her like a storm, her pussy clamping down on his cock in rhythmic, desperate pulses. She screamed, her whole body arched, toes curling, vision going white.
He didn't stop. He fucked her through it, prolonging her climax, growling low in his chest as her spasming cunt milked him.
"Good girl," he snarled. "Now take my seed."
With a final, brutal thrust that pressed the head of his cock against her cervix, he came. Hot, thick ropes of cum flooded her, filling every crevice, painting her insides white. He held himself there, grinding his hips, pumping every last spurt into her until it overflowed, leaking out around his shaft and dripping onto the stone.
For a long moment, they were frozen—his massive body pinning her smaller one, his cock still embedded, his cum warming her from the inside. Aspasia whimpered, feeling impossibly full, her pussy throbbing and tender.
Then he pulled out. Slowly, deliberately, letting her feel every inch of his retreat. His seed gushed out after him, a thick white trail running down her thighs and pooling on the ledge. He watched it leak from her fucked-open hole with dark satisfaction.
"Not done, little offering." He flipped her onto her stomach before she could catch her breath. Her cheek pressed against cold stone, her ass in the air. He spread her thighs wide and two thick fingers plunged into her gushing cunt, scooping out his own cum and pushing it back in.
"This pussy belongs to me now. Filled with my seed, molded to my cock." His fingers withdrew with a wet pop, then traced lower, circling her tight asshole. "But this... this is still waiting for me. Tonight, I claim all your holes."
Aspasia shuddered, fresh arousal mingling with exhaustion. She was his offering, his toy, his cocksleeve. And he was only just beginning.
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Characters: Astaroth x Ann [m!Demon x female human]
Warnings/Tags: NSFW, monster x human story, dom undertones, demonic, size difference, domination, horror, dark fantasy
← previous chapter
~~~~
Ann woke up, her head hurt, and her vision was blurry. It took her a moment to realize where she was or, more like, that she had no idea where she was. She was sitting on a stone floor; everything around her was made of stone; maybe that was a cave of some sort? Some of the walls were decorated with skulls pushed into the stone. Around the edges were placed more skulls, with lit candles on top of them. At first, she thought they were painted red, but then she realized it was dried blood over the bone. In the middle of the room, there was the only piece of furniture she could see if it could even be called that. It looked like a giant table...no, it wasn’t a table. It was an altar. The bottom was built from a line of skulls. On top of them were two lines of neatly arranged bones, then skulls again and bones….row after row until the top of it ended with one final row of skulls. The altar's surface wasn’t flat, the skulls were making it look like a plane covered in almost equally sized hills. More dried blood was stuck to the altar, making some of the skulls look as if they were crying in red. Each corner of the altar had a long bone sticking and leather straps attached.
Just as she tried to look for a way out, a strange white light appeared next to the altar, the light somehow split in two and turned more into a hole and Astaroth walked out of there holding a man in one hand and his mace in the other. He pushed the man on the floor and then pulled dragged another one, doing the same. Ann had seen these portals before, the demons used them to travel between their world and the human world.
“You are awake.” Astaroth finally moved his attention to her as if he never noticed her.
She tried to pull herself away and find an exit, but there was none. There was a stone wall behind her and no escape. Astaroth knelt in front of her, his face looking almost friendly.
“Please…” she begged, unsure what she was begging for. Not to be hurt? Not to be killed? To be let go. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” he raised an eyebrow. Ann watched him in panic. “You have done nothing wrong. I have been to so many different worlds, I have seen so many different rituals. For strength, fertility, good crop, less rain, more rain...you name it. Here we are. I have seen people beg gods for power, sacrifice themselves to demons, and worse. I have seen it all. Mortals are stupid; they don’t know demons and gods are just dying races. Do you know that demons cannot create demons? We have lost the power or knowledge of how. There has not been a new demon in centuries, and I will fix that.”
He reached to her face with his free hand, and even though she wanted to run away, there was nowhere to go. His touch was warm, warmer than usual. She looked at his face, and there was something different. His pupils were almost gone, so small, barely as big as needleheads, his jaw was clenched, and he was breathing heavily. “A world where I traveled to many years ago had an interesting ritual. Warriors will not kill their strongest enemies; they will take them prisoners, and then they have a ritual of worshipping whatever gods they bow their heads to. They would use their enemies' blood in all sorts of rituals - to gain their strength, to give it to the gods, to ensure stronger offspring. Fascinating really. I tried it once and it gave me strength. I started doing it on my own then and look where I am…” He smiled. “There is power in your enemy’s death, and there is power in a woman’s body.”
She wasn’t even sure what he was talking about anymore. Was he going to kill the men that he brought here? Was he going to kill her with them?
“Astaroth, please, I don’t want to die.” she begged him, knowing he knew no mercy, but she couldn’t do anything else.
“No, no little pet.” his serious tone suddenly softened, his face looked more concerned than angry. “I won’t kill you. I need you. You are pretty and you have been nice to me and I have been nice to you and despite your little knife accident I know you have warmth in your heart for a demon.”
She did. Ann had given herself willingly to a demon, this tall horned creature with ancient ruins covering his mighty body. She had summoned him and allowed him to turn her into his servant. But then she spoke with other humans in service of the demons and she didn’t like what she heard about him.. They told her about women he had killed, women that just disappeared one day, never to be seen. She looked at the skulls around and a chill thought crossed her mind. Were these all the skulls of his enemies or…
“Astaroth...what happened with the other women…” she had to muster all her courage. Her eyes traveled across the skulls fearfully.
“No, not that…'' there was something strange in how his face moved, new...unknown...and she remembered. She had seen him like that after battles. Dissociated, unfocused… “One...I killed on that altar, one died a few days later, one used my knife to kill herself...no that was two of them. Two killed themselves…there were more. They all died. One way or another they all died, but I didn’t kill all of them.”
“Why...how…” she was panicking Ann started breathing heavily, her whole body shaking. She felt as if she was underwater.
“You will help me take over my enemies' strength.” He pointed at the two men behind, still bound. One of them had regained consciousness and was trying to wiggle free, but not successful. “And also help me revive the demon race.” He slid his hand to her belly. “If I just find the secret, that old forgotten secret, our armies will grow again.”
She didn’t believe what he said. If he was not going to kill her, but just these men, why all the other women had died?
“What do you want from me?” she said fearfully. She knew she had no choice, she might as well follow his lead until there was a different opportunity.
“There is my girl.” he brushed his rough finger against her cheek. “I want you to get up.” He did so himself and offered her his hand; she followed. “I want you to enjoy yourself. Don’t worry.” Astaroth moved behind her and placed his hands on her waist, his lips immediately kissing her neck softly. “Walk forward.”
She did, her mind somehow relaxing from the fear that had obsessed and focusing on the softness of his and his lips following a path. He started removing her clothes as she walked and by the time she reached the altar all her clothes were gone, the coldness of the cave brush against her skin.
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Cover art featuring Astaroth and Ann from the newest story "Demonic Rituals"!
It's a short complete story that you can read in full with explicit content (chapter 3) on our patreon.com/monstercrave
Read Chapter 1 here on our blog
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Characters: Astaroth x Ann [m!Demon x female human]
Warnings/Tags: NSFW, monster x human story, dom undertones, demonic, size difference, domination, horror, dark fantasy,
~~~~
Astaroth woke up. He didn’t feel the body on top of his at first, nor the pointy edge of the blade pressing against his throat. What woke him up was a feeling, sensing that he was in danger. That same feeling made him turn in the last possible second during a battle, just to see a new enemy launching at him. She was sitting on top of him; her honey hair looked almost black in the darkness of the room. Her hands were shaking as she was gripping the knife as hard as she could, her eyes filled with tears.
“What is it, little fawn?” He moved his hands away from his body, showing to her that he was not going to attempt to push her away. He knew he could; she was scared, that much Astaroth could smell, but for his life, he could not figure out why besides the obvious fact that she was his. “Bad dream?” He had to hold his chuckle. Demons didn’t dream, but humans did; he couldn’t understand how spooked their fragile minds were by something they saw when asleep.
“I’m next, am I not?” She finally said, her voice broken with tears
“Next?” He tilted his head slightly in curiosity. “Next in…?”
“I know every time you get attracted…or whatever you feel toward a woman, sooner or later, something happens to her. Sooner or later, she just disappears or…worse.” He could hear the fear in her voice; she was not going to push that knife into him, not unless he provoked her. He also doubted she realized how much strength was needed to push a blade in the middle of someone’s throat. Breaking through skin, muscle, and bone was not easy; the moment the metal hit bone, it became hard, the blade would screech, and the handle would push. She should have pressed the knife just above his collarbone where the pointed end would sink easier. Then again, she was not thinking. While it would hurt and be unpleasant, his ability to heal would save his life. The knife was made of steel, and while there was some iron in there, it wasn’t enough to kill him.
“Little fawn, is that what worries you?” He pushed himself up, her eyes opening wider as if she did not expect the tip of the knife piercing his skin, but she did not push any further, her expression changing, realizing she couldn’t kill him. “Who told you that?” He reached her face and pushed some of her hair behind her ear.
“Does it matter?” Her shoulders sank, her arms relaxing, but the knife was now pointing at his chest.
“It does…” He smiled, running his hands over her arms. He could feel himself getting hard. There was just something about her holding his life in her hands. The smell of blood, even if it was his blood and just a few drops, woke him up. He ran his hands to cup hers, pushing the knife into the middle of his chest, the blade piercing the skin, letting a river of blood slide down his abs. “You won’t be able to kill me if you point the knife here. There is a bone, a very strong one. If you run toward me and you put all your strength behind the thrust, you might be able to penetrate that bone.” He slid the knife now, leaving a red path down his skin until the knife was pointed just under his ribs. “Here, however, it’s just skin and muscle. You push here, I could probably die if left to bleed out, and you don’t pull the blade. It will be painful and messy. This is your chance, little fawn. Push the blade.”
Astaroth could feel her hands shaking under his. She wasn’t even holding the knife anymore. The only reason it was in her grip was because he was keeping it there. Part of him was enjoying that, the struggle, the fear in her, the very animalistic instinct telling her that if she did not kill, she would be killed, but also, she wasn’t a killer. She was sane, and she was scared. He could live with every death he had ever delivered and then some. She probably couldn’t.
“Who told you about the other women?” He was not going to pretend there was not an ounce of truth in every rumor. He was well aware of what he had done.
“Other servants.” Tears were now falling from her face. She leaned forward, her forehead pressing against his bare chest. He let her sob, wet tears ran down his skin, touching the minor scratches she had done with the knife, sending a burning sensation through his body as the salt touched his blood.
“Ah.” Humans gave themselves to his kin for centuries. They were looking for riches and simple mortal delights. They all ended the same, serving a demon, doomed never to receive or enjoy what had been promised to them. Humans were fools, valuable fools. They served, but they also did not have a choice. “I was not responsible for their deaths.” He reached for her face and held it in his hands. Her head was so small in his grip, her tender skin touching his rough skin so softly… “Let me show you.” his hands moved to her throat and he squeezed, she tried to fight him, but slowly, consciousness started slipping away, and she fell on top of him, asleep, almost looking dead.
Astaroth stood like that for a second. She was going to wake up eventually. He placed her gently on the bed next to him and looked at her still form. For months now he had wondered if she would be the one, but he had wondered that about many women. Some have shared his bed for months, some just for a night, but sometimes he just got that feeling…that this particular person would be the one to give him the strength he needed in battle and a gift every demon hoped for.
Note: Lucy and Dax are characters from a longer story and art series we are working on but we wanted to share some of the fun they have. If you want to see artwork of them, You can check Lucy here and Dax here.
Warnings/Tags: NSFW, monster x human story, dom/sub undertones, alien anatomy, size difference, domination, non-human genitalia, double penetration
Word Count: 1673
Dax walked into his room, it was already late, and the coldness of the night was wearing him out more than the long day he had. It was rare for him to feel that way, but right now, he only wanted to lie in bed and sleep until the sun was up. His kin didn’t take light to low temperatures, which was frustrating given their superior physical strength.
As he stepped into the space lit only by a handful of candles, he noticed Lucy standing by the bed, holding a huge platter. He could smell the raw meat and fruit from where he was standing. Her small frame looked even more petite in front of the frame of the huge bed, her red hair running down her back and the flames from the candle making it look like a reflection of sire.
“What is that?” He approached the small woman and tilted his head, observing the image before him. He wasn’t sure what was more appetizing, the dinner she was holding or her fragile body dressed in nothing but golden chains and jewelry.
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Eilis and Lyall are characters from one of the stories on our Patreon. NSFW version is available on Patreon, and full fic is also available on Patreon.
