Dear Monsters Magazine,
I never thought it would happen to me. I mean, sure, we've all heard the stories. Strapping young adventuresses, more interested in cock than killing monsters. But I thought them tall-tales to tell at the war-camp late at night to keep the blood warm. That all changed last month.
First, who am I? Name's Grug, minotaur from the spawning pits of Agathor. A good old Aga-boy, and yeah, yeah, I know all the jokes. I'm eight foot, six inches tall, have big wide shoulders, horns with only a bit of curve and ginger fur I keep in good condition.
I live in a cave a few miles out side of, well, I'll keep that to myself. I trust the Monsters Magazine editors but I've known a few canny heroes to keep any back issues they find while dungeon delving. It's a good cave and I've no desire to lose it, not to mention my life! It ticks all the boxes — dry, deep enough to keep the wind out, a bit of ventilation for the fire pit and a nice sandy patch for sleeping on. Its the kind of place you wouldn't mind taking a girl back to after a night out raiding.
So there I was, stripping the last of the meat from a sheep I stole the night before, when I hear a noise from the mouth of my cave. Now remember, I didn't know what was coming at this point, so I grabbed up my war club and got ready to ambush the intruder. I don't get many visitors, just the occasional wandering shepherd who no one misses. But that's the thing about shepherds: let them get away and no one knows what will happen. Best case scenario, they'll call up the town guards. Worst, they go all hero on you and some idiot with a burgeoning destiny tries to stick you with a magic sword.
I have a place just to the side of the entrance I like to strike from. Got some good shadows and the intruders are always looking forward. As quiet as I could (which, to be fair and being a minotaur wasn't all that quiet) I snuck into place and hefted by club above my head.
You can imagine my surprise when I saw, not a scraggly shepherd entering my cave, but an elven maiden.
Now elves, I know what you are thinking. Far too stringy, all muscle and the girls look like boys with cunts. Ignore all those stereotypes. This elf was capital 'H' hot. She had on a tight leather corset-bodice thing, which pushed up her frankly huge breasts and created so much cleavage a chasm fiend would feel completely at home. Her hips and waist? Don't get me started on her hips and waist. Let's just say, put together they could tell some serious time. Her face? Perfect, with just that hint of fox some elves have and pointed ears you wouldn't believe. Her hair was the colour of beaten copper and tied back in an intricate braid. In her hand she held one of those slightly curved elven swords, glowing and covered with runes.
I hesitated a moment but not for too long. Elves, even hot elves, are nothing but trouble, or so I thought.
With a great roar (and I've been told I have a very good roar by none other than old Bloodbull himself) I swung my club down, but my elf is a wily one. As quick as a fox, she sprung forward, rolled and flipped to her feet. My club crashed against gravel.
Poor show, I know, still it wasn't the end. I was now between her and the only exit (well, only exit assuming she couldn't squeeze through the tiny smoke hole). I stamped my hooves, lowered my head so my horns showed and stampeded forward.
This time I got her. I slammed into her head first and only her narrow waist saved her from being impaled on one of my horns. With a second roar, I threw my head up and back. The elf flew from me and slammed against the cave wall hard enough to shake loose a shower of small rocks. Her sword went flying and raised a shower of blue sparks as it cut deep into the rock.
I'm no feeble calf and if she'd been a human shepherd, the impact would have broken her back and bones, ready to have the marrow sucked from them. But elves are a harder sort, even the curvy ones.
She fell to the ground with a meaty thump but just as quickly clambered to her feet, supporting herself with one hand against the cave wall.
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So you might be asking at this point: Grug you great hunk of a minotaur, you've got the elf on the ropes. How did you get from this point to the, you know, good stuff? Well, readers, the answer to that can be summed up in one word: Shlunk.
I'm not ashamed to admit it. Fighting gets my blood pumping and I've been in enough scraps to know I'm far from the only one. My scuffle with the elf combined with her, frankly, smoking hot body meant my cock was waking up. It fell with a meaty, fleshy sound and hung between my legs in all its glory.
The elf's eyes widened. Her gaze went down, then down some more, then down some more. (My roar wasn't the only part of me to impress old Bloodbull if you catch my drift). Her lips opened in an 'O' shape and her tongue flicked out, licking. I haven't mentioned her lips, have I? Well, again she broke the elf mould. Lots of elves have thin lips, that make them look always half constipated, but not this elf. She had big juicy cock suckers the colour of a really ripe apple.
At this point I might have been getting a clue of where my day was heading and even if I wasn't, I've always been one to show off. I puffed out my great furry chest, threw my head back and growled, a deep base rumble that made tiny stones dance on the floor of my cave.
The elf's grin turned saucy. "Well, Mr Minotaur, you seem to have me in quite a corner here. Perhaps we could come to some kind of deal?" Her gaze did the up-down trek again and I rewarded her attention with a small shake of my hips, sending the bulbous head of my cock swinging from side to side.
Her eyes did that come-hither thing humanoids are so good at and I grunted in reply, all sexy like. When I come a grunting, Jesse comes a calling. My cock stiffened between my legs, swinging up a few degrees.
"Perhaps we can," I growled and pawed one hoof against the ground, scraping the rock.
She smiled at that, really smiled, lips, eyes and everything in between. "Well what's your name, big boy?"
"Called Grug," I said.
"Well, Grug," she said and sort of shifted her shoulders, which made her cleavage even deeper than before and the accompanying mounds even higher. "I'm Shar of the Dunadin Twindaria. And I've always been partial to big hunks like you." Again she flashed me the seductress eyes and again she licked her lips. My cock hardened some more, rising higher as blood pumped into it.
I propped my war club up against the cave wall (still in easy reach, since I was horny not an idiot) and set my great hands against my hips.
She sashayed towards me all sexy, hips sweeping one way and then the other. A foot in front of me she dropped to her knees and hefted my cock up in both hands.
"Ooh," she crooned. "You have a very nice cock don't you."
And then she kissed it, lips puckered and moist, right on the head! Those plump elven lips felt like lightning and my cock jumped almost to the horizontal as so much blood pumped into it.
She laughed, high like falling water, and shifted her grip to account for my cock's new position. Her fingers moved over the taught skin like fancy silk. She had none of the swordswoman's calluses you'd expect from someone in her position, just long supple digits the better for giving pleasure.
"Enjoying this," she said and met my eyes. They were almost impossibly bright, the irises electric violet. I'm a minotaur and so have been most of my hookups. That means I'm used to darker eyes, brown or perhaps amber. Shar's elf eyes were something else, like looking into a raging storm.
Without breaking eye contact she leaned forward and licked the head. Her tongue seemed tiny next to the bulbous lump of primed flesh that was my cock but felt amazing despite that. She kept going, a real tongue lashing, and didn't stop until the entire head and a fair part of the trunk shone with her saliva. Each lick sent a bolt of sensation racing down my cock. I closed my eyes and wallowed in the pleasure.
If this had been a plan to get my guard down, that would be the moment Shar slipped a knife from between her breasts and stabbed me, gelded me even. I'll cop to that. Luckily, she was rapidly becoming as horny as me. Even as she licked, she ground her thighs together, stimulating the hot cunt that lurked there.
"Here I go," she said and craned her mouth as wide as she could. It wasn't the jaw dislocating gape some naga can manage, but for an elf, it was incredible. I could see her shining white teeth, her small darting tongue and the darkness that lurked at the back. Mouth wide, she began forcing my cock inside. It was a very tight fit, but her mouth? It was hot and tight and her tongue just kept on moving. My great hanging balls churned and I felt like I could explode right then.
.... There is more of this story ...