Disclaimer: This story contains content that should not be read by people underneath the age of 21. It is 100% fiction and has no bearing on reality whatsoever. 100% fiction means real life rape is WRONG. The author does not condone illegal and immoral actions described. If you feel rape in the real world is a good thing, bend over in a prison and whistle dixie. While I'm disclaiming, racism, homophobia and other bigotry of any kind are also really fucking stupid. I don't own The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion or any characters and make no profit from this story. Please read the story codes above to ensure that you are not going to be offended by, or otherwise dislike, the content. Mistress S once again provided the inspiration for this chapter, suggesting Orc/Minotaur rough sex.
Description: Moz's planned Minotaur encounter takes a different path thanks to the cunning Bosmer.
Content Codes: MMF, nc-cons, pwp, cream pie, exhib, inter, rough, voy
Elder Scrolls 4 - Oblivion: Ending The Fan Part 5 - Surprise Bull Sex
by JD ([email protected])
There are couplings no sane Imperial woman would attempt, not even the loosest whore. Sexual acts that even a fierce Nord drunk on the finest mead would think twice about. Moz gra-Bura, Grand Champion of the Arena - amongst more recently earned accolades - would scold them for their caution. Tough, even for an Orc, she loved to fight and she loved to fuck. She loved to get fucked hard. So to see her lewdly, nakedly, approach a Minotaur Lord as she did that day would inspire horror or awe amongst the other races of the Empire.
There was only one witness, neither Imperial nor Nord. The Bosmer, Fanroth, whose obsession with the Arena had almost condemned him to a life of virginity. He had the equivalent of a front row seat, and it aroused Moz further to think that she was putting on a show. Something of the same sense of elation she felt fighting for an audience thrilled her as the Minotaur towered over her. So far as she knew, only the odd passing spriggan had ever witnessed her fucking a Minotaur in the past. One had even attacked, and she'd had to fight off the mad forest bitch with her axe while her Minotaur partner carried right on pounding. That had been a good day.
"You smell this? You see it?"
Moz pressed her labia wide, showing her dripping wet inner folds. The Bosmer's fingers and tongue had left her perfectly ready to take even a Minotaur cock. The bull-headed giant snorted twin clouds of steam from his ring-pierced nose. There were so many muscles crowded into his hairy torso that even Moz looked willowy before him. He reached down with a forearm thicker even than one of the Orc's hard green thighs, and scooped her musky juice up. The Minotaur licked Moz's wetness from his fingers appreciatively. Satisfied that he was not about to attack, Moz reached out for the Minotaur's already bulging crotch sheath. The shiny black head emerged almost immediately, pulsing between Moz's eager fingers. Still half-flaccid, it was already thicker than the Bosmer's organ. She hoped he had a good view.
"This is a good cock," she complimented, loud enough Fanroth to hear.
Though the smartest understood a few words in a few tongues, no Minotaur spoke. As a Minotaur Lord, the giant before Moz was especially smart. He had heard the Orc female enter his territory, and intended to fight her as a challenger. When she'd revealed her heat and offered herself for mating he put aside his disappointment at missing a fight. Through huge brown eyes he gazed down approvingly as the green-skinned female applied her dark tongue to his cock while stroking it firmly. Already thick veins showed along the sides; they were a wonderful work of friction to a receiving party. He listened as she spoke,
"I am Orc. Strong warrior. You fuck hard, Minotaur. You fuck me good and hard," Moz growled as she erotically massaged the Minotaur's cock.
The Minotaur ignored the strap holding Moz's axe to her back and grabbed her breasts. Each normally impressive bosom seemed small in his hands. The Orc sighed, and pressed forwards into the Minotaur's ungentle hands. She thought he might be the best-endowed Minotaur she'd ever encountered. Moz nibbled around the slightly flattened flared ring of his crown happily; she appreciated a challenge. Hell, if Martin Septim had asked her to go fuck a Minotaur as hung as this one, rather than quests like recovering armour, she'd have been happy. She reached for the Minotaur's balls. There was surprising weight in each, even for an Orc, and they felt boiling hot cupped in her rough hands. It felt as if there was enough protein in his scrotum to feed ever beggar in the Imperial City for weeks. Moz ran her long tongue about her lips greedily.
To the Minotaur's surprise the Orc female showed a burst of aggressive strength. Ending her testicular massage, she hooked a leg behind his ankles, and tugged down on his hips. Off balance for a moment, the giant bull-man sank to his knees with his cock stiffly proud before him. Moz stroked roughly, admiring the shiny black veiny flesh between her chunky green fingers. Even using both hands, her fingers could not meet around the Minotaur's cock. His organ was hard and hot and dribbling precum, and she wanted it sheathed inside her sex. She diverted her attention for a moment. Shimmering air beside her mare confirmed the Bosmer had not fled. She winked theatrically, and turned back to the Minotaur Lord.
"Going to sit on you now. You pull me down before I'm ready, I'll break your arms!"
The Minotaur merely grunted in response; he'd resumed mauling her breasts. He was rough, right on the crackling boundary of pleasure and pain; just how she liked it. Moz climbed onto his thighs and took his long horns in each hand. She tried not to think of their alchemical value; it was easier in the days when she just thought of them as either trophies or, well, fuck handles. The Minotaur's straining cock felt sticky and hot as it pressed into her bush. She entertained a moment of doubt about this beast fitting; he was truly a giant.
Mouth hanging open, and drool running freely between her tusks, Moz gra-Bura pressed the Minotaur's cock inside her slick channel. The shiny black crown seemed to pop inside her, and then the veins were rubbing first against her hard clitoris, and then inside her gripping walls. Inch by inch she sank onto the increasingly agitated Minotaur. Steam blasted down into her face from his bull nose. He actually squeezed her breasts too hard once or twice, and drew protesting cries from the tough Orc. Moz slapped her hands down onto his, and forced his fingers to her sensitive dark nipples.
She felt as if she'd bottomed out, though there were still several inches of the Minotaur's shaft outside her body. It was enough; she felt thoroughly stretched and filled in a way that the Bosmer, for all his increasingly skilled techniques, could never manage with a mere Wood Elf organ. She recalled there were those who held Orcs as thoroughly degraded, as worse even than the beast folk. If they were to witness her rutting atop the Minotaur they would not change their opinions. She pulled herself up, feeling like a vacuum was sucking him back inside her, and then dropped her weight again.
"Now, Minotaur! Fuck me!"
The bull-headed giant's meaty hands grabbed Moz's thigh green hips and lifted her almost entirely off his cock before slamming her down hard. She screamed encouragement; each long thrust pummelling her pleasurably and sawing his veiny shaft past her stiff inch long nub. She braced her feet against his thighs to prevent him slamming her down too far, but otherwise let him get on with roughly slamming her on his thick hybrid bull-man shaft. The strong stench of Orc and Minotaur arousal was matched only by the irregular wet noises of their passionate coupling. It was a truly bestial sight. Moz alternated between scratching at the Minotaur's hairy, muscular, chest, and pinching and rubbing her nipples.
Head back, eyes closed, and mouth slackly wide, Moz had quickly forgotten their Bosmer audience. She concentrated on the rough pleasures of the savage Minotaur impalement. She grunted and cried, and drew blood from his chest with her broken nails as he slammed her ever harder and faster on his staff-like organ. The Orc was tighter than his usual mates, and she squeezed down on him for a moment every time she had his length inside her. He was enjoying himself far more than he would've done fighting the female when a mysterious voice drifted to his ears,
"Great Minotaur Lord, I the Tree Spirit command you... uh... fuck this Orc in the rear. She realty likes it that way."
The idea had occurred to Fanroth as he'd been about to relieve his aching balls with a swift bout of self-pleasuring. He immediately resolved to live with the ache a while longer. He bided his time as Moz mounted the Minotaur and the beast appeared to be thoroughly engrossed with her body. He climbed the nearest tree to the kneeling Minotaur's head, and spoke in a deep yet breezy voice. As a Wood Elf he'd always believed he could speak with the trees themselves, despite his less than traditional upbringing, and so had a good idea of how a tree should sound. He managed to keep the laughter from his voice as he imagined getting back at the Grand Champion both for making him suck her potion-grown cock, and for leaving him hard after he got her off. He didn't think it cruel; she'd probably enjoy it. Eventually.
At his words the Minotaur's head span around, shock clear even on bull features, but saw only an old tree. He drew air in deeply through his nose but could only smell Orc musk overpowering his own familiar stench. He didn't normally want to fuck any female in the rear. He considered it no way to produce young taking a female that way, and reserved it for lesser Minotaurs who challenged for his territory. He reached the conclusion that when a mysterious voice in a forest claims to be a tree spirit, and orders you to fuck an Orc's ass, you'd better fuck that ass. You don't want the trees as your enemies. They had branches everywhere.
Moz's own cries had drowned out the Bosmer's words to her ears, so the first inkling she had that the Minotaur's intentions had changed was when he pulled her up, all the way off his shaft, just before she came. Her howled frustration was louder even than her earlier scream of pleasure. She kicked her legs wildly and punched his arms vainly as he span her heavily muscled body like a toy, and pressed her to her knees,
"What are you playing at, fetcher? I'll have your balls off with an axe. What... you want to try another position? Fine. But quickly! Stick it back in, damn you. I'm nearly there!"
Driven by almost religious fervour, the Minotaur pinned both of the Orc female's wrists against the 'talkative' tree. She seemed to have accepted that he wanted to try another position, and spread her bent legs for him. With his other hand aiming his shaft, he pressed back inside her gaping pussy for a moment, long enough to re-coat his thick shaft with her juices and draw a hissed cry of pleasure from the Orc. She held him fiercely inside, tightly gripping his shaft in her clenched sex. He pulled free with a pop, and then pressed it forcefully between Moz's hard-muscled buttocks. As an anal virgin until her 'breaking in' by the Bosmer, Moz didn't have the practice and experience at stretching in her sphincter that she had in her sex.
She hit a scream of such perfect pitch a passing high elf conductor would have instantly hired her to sing soprano. Wide-eyed and utterly furious, but unable to dislodge the powerful Minotaur, Moz cursed him with dire threats as he bucked his hips and, finally, worked inside her rosebud. Moz had previously won fights with arrows and daggers pinned in her flesh, so even a huge Minotaur cock could not prevent her struggling against the brutal penetration. Once again, her inherited Orcish durability saved her from a dangerous rupturing. Her ring stretched painfully, but without coming close to tearing, and the aroused part of her brain noticed immediately the new and strange sensations beneath the pain. The Minotaur's veins rubbed against the concentrated nerves beneath her skin in a disturbingly pleasurable manner.
She couldn't understand his actions; Minotaurs had never tried anal sex with her. They always just instinctively wanted to mate, or fight. As she frenziedly whipped her black hair from side to side in time with her cursing, Moz caught sight of glimmering air signifying a chameleon enchantment. The Bosmer! Stood by the tree! What had he done? Moz screamed again as the Minotaur forced a further six or seven inches inside her in one fell pelvic plunge. Deeper than she'd even been penetrated, fuller than she'd ever felt. Moz had never been so completely dominated by any foe or lover. She was on her knees like a supplicant, pinned to a tree, and with a bestial effort from the Minotaur she suddenly had his obscenely large cock pounded balls deep between inside her ass. She imagined the hole stretched wider than her own bicep.
As the Minotaur withdrew, Moz thought her very guts were going to be dragged out stretched along his throbbing length. Yet, as her body adjusted to the intrusion she concentrated more on the incredible sense of fullness and the increasingly overwhelming pleasure generated by his veined length moving inside her. Though she cried out with each inch moved in and out, Moz wanted more. When the Minotaur began to use his free hand to grope her breasts she screamed at him to screw her hard. The huge Minotaur complied, willingly, pounding her ass with animal brutality. It was one hell of an experience.
"Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Harder!"
"Ha, Grand Champion... I knew you'd like it..." whispered the Bosmer from close to her ear, "it's quite amazing to see your ass stretched around such a huge cock. I wondered how they caught Minotaurs for you to fight in the arena, I didn't realise you trapped them like this!"
"Bosmer, I... Oh... I..." Moz couldn't get the words out.
In her peripheral vision, she noticed that the air shimmer flickered hard. The Bosmer was clearly moving something fast. Concentrating on the hardest fuck of her life, she still half-heartedly tried to pull her wrists free from the Minotaur's grip. Leaning further, he plunged two huge fingers up into her sex, each moving like prehensile cocks to increase her pleasure. She squeezed down on his digits, chasing her own climax as he Minotaur's strokes grew shorter and harder. Her pain was gone, subsumed entirely in mental and physical bliss. The Minotaur gave her ass his full-length one final time, and then the heated blast that signalled his peak. Moz had already thrown her head back, body stiff, as she came forcefully. Her sex spasmed around his fingers as juices gushed torrentially into the grass. The hot pressure in her bowel increased, as good as if he'd been between her thighs.
A familiar taste splashed across her tongue. The Bosmer had stroked himself off. The long delay before he came had fuelled the powerful blasts across Moz's sweat-drenched green skin, her tusks and even into her thick black mane. Moz's mental image of her, a mighty Orc warrior, on her knees with a Minotaur cock buried in her ass and a Bosmer's cream dripping down her face helped trigger a further series of explosive orgasms. Moz's voice was almost hoarse from screaming after her earlier perfect note, but she managed a final triumphant cry of pleasure even as the Minotaur tugged his wilting cock free from her seed packed rectum. His curdling spunk seemed to fountain from Moz's ass as she hugged the tree with her released hands. She breathed raggedly hard, as, satisfied, the Minotaur stomped away from the mated female. He hoped the tree spirit was happy his performance, and intended to urinate against a less talkative trunk.
"Congratulations, Grand Champion. That was the best show I've seen in quite a while."
Moz slowly raised her head towards the Bosmer's voice, and blinked until her eyes cleared. She sensed the Bosmer had outwitted her again, but she couldn't deny the incredible pleasure she'd experienced helpless at the hands of the Minotaur. She'd not truly been helpless, anyway. Moz knew if she'd felt in true danger she would have entered one of the red misted berserk Orc rages. They tended to end with piles of miscellaneous body parts disfiguring the landscape. She defiantly managed her familiar toothy smile at the Bosmer's shimmer, and commanded,
"Fetch me brandy, and food. I need to rest awhile, here is as good a place as any 'cos he'll be off to piss and sleep now."
As the air shimmer signified the Bosmer walking over to the mare, Moz gingerly felt at her gaping, leaking asshole. She felt an aching emptiness deep inside that, one day, she knew she would want filling again. The Orc wasn't sure if it was the physical emptiness of the Minotaur's withdrawn shaft or, more deeply, the sense of surrender and helplessness she'd felt when the Bosmer had shackled her arms, and then the Minotaur had followed suit.
Deep in thought about her future, Moz wiped drool from her face with her wrist, and awaited her brandy.
End of Chapter 5