In Care of the Minotaurs

Alsinbin the Barbarian took great delight in being stirred from his hard slumber on the stone slab by the jangling of brass at the entrance of the ancient dungeon beneath Alhere Castle. His rigid staff was in much need of its nightly draining when the minotaur guards retrieved him, escorting the big wild boor into the silken bedchamber when the barbarian reveled at the ample rear and heavyset of testicles folded into the seat of the well-bedded couch. As the future king glanced over his rounded shoulders with his fundaments well-oiled and eager to be ploughed, the barbarian reflected on the first time he met the satyriasis and speared his virgin rear.

Their crossing was purely by chance five springs ago in the meadows near the wide river. The barbarian was stretching his limbs with his prized stallion in these strange lands the gods led him into when the stallion, purely horse, spotted the band of centauresses in the field. As his stud mounted his choosing from afar, the barbarian was well aware that eyes fell upon him in the opening. What he wasn’t sure of was where they hailed from as he stood guard making sure he was forever in reach of his sword if his peace was to turn. As his stallion finished his propagation, the barbarian cast his sights upon a hill in the distance and found a thick-haired lad resting in the dewy grass gazing at him. Alsinbin couldn’t explain it, but he was magically drawn to the hilltop as if a powerful spell befell him. The closer he got on horseback, the barbarian understood well. The lad was quite pleasing to the senses, and the familiar way the lad stared at his tumid loincloth it had gone unstated the lad was jealous of the mares that had just been taken. It briefly crossed the barbarian’s mind the centauresses were the lad’s guard and it could’ve very well been a trap. But the way the lad spread his legs open and presented his rear in abandoned under his tunic, the virile barbarian didn’t mind. Even if this was a faulty snare, the barbarian was sure he was outnumbered anyhow. The best he could hope for was to finish the deed before any foreigner ended his life.

Alsinbin had always possessed a great bias towards men that received. It began in his youth during training by effeminates who made themselves useful as practice ploughs for cadets that later manifested itself with the fourth spoil of battle, a slave name Larus, who proved not to be much of a laborer but highly skilled in the art of pleasure as he found the barbarian’s brawn incredibly intoxication–more so than his wives and concubines ever claimed. It would be however after he found another fairy to mount his lust for them shadowed that of his women, in that he was forced to be delicate with them as these passives relished in the natural brutishness of men. And even then, they still couldn’t get enough whether it was just him or a maniple as he bore witness to more than a few of these ravenous snake charmers running wild with the seed of other men and still begged for more.

As Alsinbin made his way over to the ground beside the comely lad, the barbarian could see that while the lad was eager he was not yet thoroughly used judging by the lack of crinkles of his wears. Alsinbin fell back and let the lad’s hand find his hairy chest and cup his scruffy face. Their mouths explored; the lad’s lithe hands went for the barbarian’s weathered breechcloth and the barbarian tore the tunic off the young lad so his thick digits could rightfully pinch the lad’s ample behind.

“Take me.” The lad beseeched rolling the great barbarian on top of him.

Alsinbin’s cock hadn’t gotten anywhere near its aim. And though he was not a stranger in taking passives dry, he’d learned along the way he could freely plough again and again if he took the precautious of making his staff easier on them if he used a lubricant.

“Oil?” The barbarian heaved using his tongue to swab the corners of the lad’s mouths.

The lad reached down and grabbed the thick cock rolling his hips up to it to where the barbarian’s cock met the lad’s slick portal to the disappointment of the barbarian who sensed he wasn’t the first that day.

“Please don’t fret, barbarian. You’re my very first ever. I’ve practiced diligently out here on myself waiting on your arrival promised to me by the gods.” The lad cajoled seductively in singsong tone with a sheathed straight weaponry handle tossed off to the side.

Alsinbin reared his engorged staff from the opening and replaced it with one of his digits. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind that the lad was open and ready to receive him, but the barbarian noted immediately the lad was still very tight and not quite loose to bring about the valued pleasure that a stud like him was in need of.

“A virgin whore?” Alsinbin chuckled at the ridiculous paradox.

“Lecherous.” The lad doubly conveyed in his eyes.

Alsinbin dug into the tear curling for that glorious mark known for turning all his male passives into bed wenches writhing in heat. Honestly, the barbarian didn’t give a damn if the lad was being truthful about his chastity or not as he was sure to ruin him anyhow. He was still titillated by his beast ploughing its lesser, and felt overjoyed about to do the same, given he was kilometers away from any other takers other than those filthy she-beasts down below.

As Alsinbin began to spear with his heavy girth, the poor lad cried out–even as the barbarian withdrew from his place–and slowly speared again warranting a shriek to jump from his throat and dance out over the vast meadows.

“Practices doesn’t compare to the real thing, eh?” The barbarian toyed more than satisfied he was the first to introduce the lad to fleshly penetration.

“Fill me again, barbarian.” The lad commanded after a minute or so of rest.

Alsinbin took him again braiding a rock that suited them both just fine. Lust soon ravaged the barbarian, and the lad was nothing more than a pocket for him to enjoy, taking earnest delight that if, off chance, he was being lied to about being the first to stretch the channel, surely, he would be the most memorable to date.

Alsinbin had to give the lad credit. His fundaments stayed whole for a long time, as it was customary for more experienced men to buckle much sooner. But after the barbarian thoroughly loosened the third valve due to his diligence, the barbarian felt his need to release rise and plunged deeper, emptying his seed with the lad already spent thrice.

Alsinbin felt his load flood the mushy abyss and run back on his sac. He pushed off the lad and rolled onto his side with a smile wiping the sweat off his overgrown brow.

“Oh, why can’t I find a magnificent barbarian of my own to mount me like that for my first time, uncle?” The fat-face, curly blond virgin king-in-waiting inquired after stumbling upon the hilltop in their reprieve.

“In due time, Gigamel, in due time,” the freshly bred lad commented sprawling out on the grass with his arms out to the youngster a couple of harvests his junior. “Though, I must say that the cock is more a delight than I could’ve ever imagined!”

The barbarian eyed the newest addition to their hilltop unsure if he still had enough in him to deliver another memorable time as he did a show.

The first lad read the barbarian’s look wrong and conceded. “Don’t worry, barbarian. Gigamel’s of age if you desire him, too. Just be warned that while I can fit the shaft of the butt of a spear through practice, he inquired a known cocksuckers of how to suckle without choking.”

The lad expressed amusement at the dudgeon of his nephew and rolled into the barbarian’s armpit where he fell asleep clutching onto the hairy barbarian.

The barbarian curled his digit at the sullen price to lay his cubbish frame on the other side of him, encouraging him to play with his softening cock so the prince might get accustomed to taking care of one once his moment in the sun finally arrived.

The outlaid plan conjured up by the lad and the brute was quite simple: Toy with the prince like forbidden fruit as their land clearly lacked breeders interested in passives like them, particularly those of royal blood. It was a plan that could’ve been beneficial to both parties for generations to come. The lad fully understood he was too far removed from the throne to ever be sovereign. But perhaps when he took to his private estate, when his nephew was installed, then perhaps he might do so with a male lover by his side–without having to conceal the liaison. In order to do that however the kingdom must set precedence for such a partnership and who better than the new king and his general in arms since his brother-in-law the king abhorred such relations?

It was no secret barbarians were naturally great warriors. It was surprising for them to learn that Alsinbin was the favored grandson of one of the greatest barbarians to ever come onto their shores. This worked well for their rouse since barbarians were known conquerors. The barbarian’s base was so far removed from the kingdom that they posed more of a threat to other lands than they did theirs. The thought of the thick-haired lad was the barbarian might begin to terrorize the fringes of their kingdom to build a name for himself and once he reached the castle the king might “accidentally” ingest poison than to risk being taken. If sorrowful for the great loss, the barbarian could give his allegiance to the new king and offer to head his army so that no other threat befell them. If merciless, the barbarian might take the future king as his whore to bed and do as he please.

“Either or, barbarian, the gods will shine a great fortune on you!”

For Alsinbin, it was far more simplistic to have a strong imposing influence over the heir apparent to do what he and his family pleased without harassment than to foolishly grasp for the crown or the kingdom. Though, it didn’t escape him that the king’s toddler daughter was a few summers younger than his eldest boy.

Once Alsinbin proposed his plan to push forward into the land, his father could not have been any prouder. His grandfather all but had the king’s army mounted on stakes and his uncle compiled a small band for his nephew the barbarian to grow and strategically mapped out which places for him to conquer first.

It took less than a year into the campaign for Alsinbin to thirst for territory to brand as his own. By the turn of the second year, if the barbarian wasn’t feasting in celebration of newer conquests or thirsting for more pillaging, he was delightfully plundering the supple flesh of his able-bodied captives. As the lad had second thoughts about his plan, the future king became enthralled with Alsinbin’s bloodlust anticipating the day he might take the kingdom and perhaps his keen hole.

Alsinbin was just mere hours away from the barbican when the clever king seized his army of seven thousand barbarians and other men who willingly went along with the attempted coup for freedom or gold. Alsinbin’s reign of terror was brought to an end in a single night when his former passive realigned his allegiance to his brother-in-law when the king armed fifteen hundred whores from around the kingdom with a lasting sleeping agent to make the unsuspecting army vulnerable. Alsinbin was no different, claiming three of these skeezers his own before being induced into the deepest sleep of his barbarian life. Death would’ve been so much sweeter then and there, but the king wanted to make an example out of the great barbarian, parading him around in unforgiving chains inside the courtyard on his way to the vile dungeons with the lad he deflowered many seasons earlier, full and bearded now, turned away from him as if he knew nothing of their grand scheme.

So, it came as a great surprise to the barbarian a full moon after his capture that he received a visitor to his cell. Because it was so well into the night, the barbarian skipped over the notion of execution as that was a spectacle reserved for public consumption during daylight hours. Certainly, for his crimes against the kingdom, he might be subjected to torture at the hands of half-man half-bull beasts that guarded him since his solitary confinement. As the furry guardsmen breached his cell, his fears heightened. Alsinbin never gone up against a minotaur much less a band of them equipped with armor and battle axes. Alsinbin was astounded to find that as big as he was human, he could bury his entire face into the center of their furred bosom if only his head didn’t fall short of their pierced nips. Alsinbin didn’t have time to take in the revelation before he was grabbed by two guards, stripped, cuffed, and hung from the rock wall a few modest inches off the ground next to the stone pallet he slept every night. He’d only gotten this treatment once during his detainment when the king came to gloat. This time the barbarian was prepared to spit in the royal face to hasten his death once and for all. But even he nearly gasped when he saw Gigamel make his way through the beastly guardsmen to approach the hanging barbarian.

“You get a good rest?” The young prince inquired, looking like a handsome blond ape of a man, well-fed and stocked with brawn.

Alsinbin didn’t answer. Gigamel and his men were going to do with him as they saw fit whether he extended them a courtesy or not.

“Suit yourself, barbarian. I heard the spell knocked you and your men out cold, but it may have been because of your overindulgence.”

Alsinbin would not have thought much of the string of words either except there was a familiar royal palm fondling his family jewels eager to play with his staff again like it did that morning on the hilltop. Unlike back then, however, after the barbarian spewed his milky load and the future king-in-waiting kissed the curiosity while he dozed soundly with the treacherous lad, Alsinbin was fully charged. Not of pleasure but of a fear worse than death looking over at the many sharp blades that filled the cell.

“Pity. My uncle drained you once and you never recovered for me to enjoy the sweet nectar. Three whores take you up to task and it left you comatose for days. I see you’re quite pleased with my touch, eh? Let me see where I fall with you?”

Pulling at the tight foreskin, the stocky prince descended to his knees and stretched his lips, slipping the cock against the roof of his mouth as he began to work it from there. Gigamel had come a long way from the boy whose uncle picked on him for seeking counsel for skill. Gigamel proved it was an excellent choice the way he licked and sucked and breathed around the bulky barbarian shaft lodged in his throat. Even as expertly as Larus was with his mouth, the prince proved far superior in talent. Alsinbin folded sooner than he would’ve liked as he bellowed and spewed immeasurably as the undeterred prince slurped and swallowed every drop and continued to work over the barbarian after he was well spent.

“I guess my practice on the centaurs came to good use, eh, barbarian.” Gigamel rose to his feet and left.

This continued for a full fortnight, always at the same hour, one past midnight with the minotaurs ceremoniously chaining him to the wall to allow the prince to challenge his skill while the barbarian grew more resistant to spewing so readily each time. Then one evening, he wasn’t chained to the wall. Instead, Alsinbin was ordered to stay seated on the stone slab where a minotaur sat behind him and clipped Alsinbin’s legs outward with his feet as the minotaur pinned the barbarian’s massive arms behind his back. His instinct was to fight, but something deeper told Alsinbin to give in. He was glad he listened to the latter when the prince straddled him and slipped over his engorged cock. The barbarian was more confused than anything until he saw the prince wince and agonized in determination attempting to sit down on the rest of Alsinbin’s girth.

“Are you trying to deflower yourself?” The barbarian finally inquired, trying not to laugh at the impatient young prince.

Gigamel’s face expressed discomfiture as his silence spoke volumes.

“Tell me, royal, when you spied on me taking your uncle those springs ago was it anything like this?”

Gigamel shook his head. “Thanks to your heinous crimes against the kingdom, we no longer have access to the hilltop.”

“True. But I’m quite sure we have access to a proper bedchamber–that’s if you don’t mind your proper fitting being down here in a dungeon.”

“My proper fitting?”

“At the welcoming of my cock, you ceased to be a virgin at penetration. You ceased to be ploughed, but you cease to be a virgin also.”

After much waiting, the prince ordered the minotaur to release the barbarian where he totted the straddling prince over to a dirt pile in the dungeon where the barbarian deemed the softest place. As the barbarian spoke, he transformed their imagination to a land near a waterfall, where he kissed the prince tenderly and with proper fingering slipped inside of him. The prince was stunned at immense pain, surprised at something he wanted for so long didn’t explode him with sheer joy.

“It hurts!” The prince cried clawing safely assuming his creature guardsmen would beat the barbarian off him.

“I know. I know.” Alsinbin offered calmly, fearing the same harm hovering above him. When that didn’t come, he could only presume the mighty beast knew a thing or two about mounting the chaste. “Breathe in, push out, and let me through like you want me here within of you. The pain will wash away with pleasure and soon my handsome prince you can’t get enough even if you tried!”

The prince tried to put his fate in the barbarian, wringing as the barbarian drove his staff to the root. The barbarian saw the prince would never get used to the thing burrowing inside of him. Then, as if the prince couldn’t take it anymore, his channel relaxed and when it collapsed to let the barbarian do as he pleased, Alsinbin found his spot and aimed center letting the prince gyrate back on him. The minotaurs chucked in delight once they saw the barbarian had the prince trembling in bliss. The barbarian could have gone forever with the prince but chose to spill his warm seed fifteen minutes into the enjoyment of this trysts, letting the satisfied passive savor the event and the soreness that was sure to come from it.

That was several moons and countless fucks ago as any time the prince could slip away he was begging to be filled by barbarian and beasts alike.

And now as Alsinbin was ready to mount the big bare ass bent over the royal couch in the silken bedchamber like he had many times over, he took the words of the minotaurs guarding his cell into his ear. If they wanted to continue to mount the prince as they pleased, the barbarian, being of human and of reason, needed to talk to him after their tryst as the king’s fury had reached a fever pitch as his son was unable to score a wife because his attention was always directed elsewhere. As Alsinbin joyfully seeded the royal romp twice, he thought he would lay with the prince and encourage his need to find a suitable wife.

But before Alsinbin could open his mouth on the subject, the minotaurs standing guard outside the bedchamber entered parting for the king and his bearded and belled brother-in-law to catch the barbarian and the prince spooning.

Alsinbin weighed his arms over the prince to stay where he was as the barbarian sat uncovered on the edge of the couch as if he was the true master of the domain.

“I told Your Highness the barbarian corrupted the boy.” Alsinbin’s former lad cursed.

Alsinbin spat jolly. “The same way you corrupted me those seasons ago.”

The king looked disheveled, as if he was trying to picture his wife’s young brother mounting the large man than to accept the deluge still streaming out of his eldest son.

“Of course, the bastard never mounted me, Your Highness. He just let me mount your boy in earnest and enticed me to overthrow you. Since he and your son are the passive way, his plan was to poison you so that I may take your son and the kingdom and let him be since you won’t.”

“That’s a lie!” The former lad spat back. “I’m happily married to a wonderful bride who’d birthed me two lads of my own.”

Alsinbin rose to his feet. “Ask your swordsman if he ever missed any handles and ask his ‘wonderful’ bride as she watched him make his way to the chamber pot in the night if his rip resembled that of a centauress after giving birth much like the future king leaks after being bred.”

The king looked on at his son unashamed in his nudity and saw the truth resting in his eyes. “You, I’ll deal with later. As for your treacherous uncle and your love, they’ve seen their last day. Guards!”

The minotaurs seized the barbarian and grabbed the former lad and led them out of the silken bedchamber. Alsinbin walked gravely and quietly as his accomplice pleaded his case, reminding the king that it was him that helped bring down the barbarian on both fronts and that he should be rewarded for his efforts rather than executed.

As the party descended back to the dungeon, Alsinbin smirked in satisfaction. He wasn’t of course elated that his end was near or having to part with his carnal companion as he knew for certain there was a trajectory to his life other than being a prison–even if it meant the end.

Alsinbin came to peace with this contentment, wondering if there was enough time for him to draft letters to send back to his lovers and family. As he was prepared to enter his dingy cell once more, perhaps for the final time, the minotaurs escorting him breezed passed the familiar opening and advised the guardsmen to put the newer prisoner in there and added they were free to have their way with him until they were all done.

Once the betrayer caught wind of what was said, he shrieked in horror and tried to play his relation to the king as his trump card. Soon the rock walls were filled with blows and distinct screams of flesh ripping flesh, as the barbarian was consciously made aware that their retaliation stemmed from another double crossing somewhere along the line.

Alsinbin didn’t speak. Sunrise was near, and perhaps after a few formalities his sentence of death. But even he was surprised when he was tossed from the castle door above the moat expecting death upon the rocks when he landed on a wooden raft knocking the paddle into the water next to him.

Alsinbin made it to the rocky shore on the other side and climbed the steep. He was disappointed his strength barely got him onto the green land above needing to catch his breath and soon passed out from exhaustion.

Alsinbin stirred just as the dark sky was starting to light a few minutes before daybreak. He was startled to find his bed was made of red matted fur, tossed over the shoulder of a minotaur. His first reaction was to protest, asked to be down. He smartly decided against that. The minotaurs covered much more ground than he did, and knowing the guardsman had to notify the army of his escape he thought his place above the ground ensured that the hunting dogs couldn’t trace his scent. As he stayed quiet and suspended, the only thing left for him to resolve was to go back to spare the prince or to head home and forget about the whole thing.