Flesh: Alpha Males and Taboo Tales

by Raminar Dixon

  My back arched, and I screamed, throwing my head back so that my hair fanned over my head. The king held me, lifting his hips so that as I clenched around him, he was fully inside my body. He lasted longer than any of the others, only giving me his issue when I was fully satisfied. I was hanging limp in his grasp, twitching as I felt him pump surge after surge of hot cum inside me, filling me. Soon, I felt a pleasant fuzz, as if I’d just taken an especially large meal, and he pulled me forward.

  I looked over my shoulder. My subjects were not done, and neither was I. Shaking on my feet, I stood up. The king did not speak. As I let his cock slurp out of me, I saw it was still hard and soaked in my juices and his cum, and this made me even more excited. He held my hands to steady me as I turned around. I pitched forward a little and lowered myself down. The head of his cock slipped into the cleft of my ass, and I felt the heat of it around the outside of my rosebud and pressing against it. It was not pain I felt as I changed the angle and urged him inside, though there was a sort of pain in the background, a flavor to it. Every inch of him that I took in my ass made me shake and clench my teeth. My body wanted him out and I wanted him in and I won. He held my hands tight as I lowered myself further and further, breathing hard from the undertaking. Finally, I let my weight settle in his lap and was able to lean backwards against his soft chest. I let my legs rest on top of his and felt the fullness, the overwhelming sense of invasion. It was not pain, but something like pain that filled me with a need I never felt before. It hurt so much that I wanted to endure it forever.

  The slightest movement made me gasp. I understood the other’s need now. I felt empty as I was full. The king held me around my belly and held his arm over my breasts, the one in his hand and teasing the outer edge of the nipple with the pad of his finger as he put his head on my shoulder and draped his tongue down over my chest, exploring the curves and the warm softness of my bosom.

  Faneth crawled up to us on her hands and knees. I was breathing less sharply now, and with every passing second the invading pain I felt became a comfortable haze of warm pleasure. My ass was surrendering to him, accepting that it as conquered territory. He gave me a mild, exploratory thrust, and I gasped. The king hissed my ear and squeezed me tight. Faneth came up between my legs and ran her tongue up my slit, lapping up the dripping remnants of my lovemaking with the king. She slipped a finger inside me and then another. As she curled her fingers against my most sensitive spot, her knuckles pushed on the inner wall, squeezing the king’s cock in my ass. Faneth leaned into my pussy and began lapping at my clit as she fingered me. Another lizardman came up behind her, knelt before the throne, and took her ass, pushing inside and fucking her hard, their bodies slapping together. Faneth moaned into me, but didn’t relent.

  My legs shook and drew up, and this allowed the king to slide deeper inside me. I ground my hips, twisting around the hard pole in my ass, feeling its heat, pushing my sex into Faneth’s face. I was already gushing over her chin, and her eyes rolled up in her head. The lizardman taking her ass slapped her cheeks, hissing at the king, who laughed. I didn’t care what they were saying anymore. Faneth’s fingers squirmed within me and the jolt of pleasure that ran up my spine made me clench, and when I clamped down on the kind, the jolt of pleasure from my ass edged me closer and closer. My legs slid down the king’s thighs and I was lying on top of him, spread open like a harlot for Faneth’s ministrations.

  I went limp against the king, too tired to do anything but curl my hands into fists and spasm. Each surge of pleasure was fiercer than the last, and between the king softly thrusting into me and Faneth’s fingers and tongue, I was in either a painful heaven or a hell of pure pleasure. The king had to keep me from toppling to the side. A wave of heat rolled through me, too much to take, and I screamed. I screamed again and lifted up my legs, and bucked, forcing Faneth to draw back as I gushed over her chin. She sank down, closing her eyes as the lizardman finished inside her. The king turned, drawing my legs up, until we lay sideways together. My sharp, gasping breaths slowed as our movements became as one and the king relented in fucking me, preferring to let himself soften inside me. I could feel his warmth inside me, where he’d come in my ass. He slipped out and I fell into him, curled up in his embrace.

  “I surrender,” I whispered.

  “Peace,” said the king. “You are mine and there is peace. These others may leave… if they wish it.”

  “Agreed,” I whispered, drawing as close to him as I could, as though I feared he might disappear.

  ***

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  ***

  Taken by the Wolf

  by Natalie Deschain

  The sound of the crowd was like thunder. Above, the great arena was a mountain made by men, an artifice of stone larger than anything I had seen before the Empire took my village. Once, I’d thought the inn at the square was large, but this place could have swallowed my entire world, the small clutch of huts where I grew up and the fields beyond, with ease. I never imagined so many people could stand together in so small a space. I remembered being marched through the Prisoner’s Gate and the slave market, where rheumy eyed men studied my bare flesh as if I was an animal before bidding on me.

  I must not be too great a prize, or I would not have been under the arena, awaiting whatever torture they would inflict on me for the satisfaction of the mob. It was dark in the tunnels and stank of blood and excrement, and the roof would shake when the crowd rose and stamped their feet when someone died. More than once I saw fresh gore dripping from between the boards overhead, mingling with the dust.

  A guard came for me, a broad man with hollow eyes who dragged me to my feet and unchained me from the others. Another appeared beside him and they tore off my rags, their rough hands roaming over my tender skin as they stripped me down, robbing me of the filthy scraps of cloth I’d managed to use to cover myself. I tried to protest but they did not speak my people’s tongue, or simply didn’t care. They walked on either side of me as they led me through the gladiator pens, and oiled, wounded men stood at the bars, reaching for me with dusty, filthy hands, only to be batted away by the guards.

  Ahead, I saw sunlight pouring in. They were leading me into the arena. I was going to die.

  They dragged me out and I feebly tried to cover myself with my arms, but they wouldn’t let me. The one put his hand against my back and they pulled my arms back, forcing me to spread my shoulders and bare my breasts to the throng in the stands. I felt all of their eyes on me at once, sliding over me, taking in my dirtied skin and matted hair.

  I knew something of these games, whispered stories and rumors from travelers and peddlers who visited our village. The guards half-carried me to the middle of the great open sands, and I saw a length of chain lying in the dirt with a collar at one end, the other bolted through a heavy plate set in the ground. One held me while the other clapped the collar around my throat, and I felt its weight settle on me. I yanked on the chain as they let me go, but of course it held fast, rattling loudly. The crowd had gone silent, watching me struggle. I fell to the ground and drew up in a ball, trying to hide my shame.

  A tall man in elaborate, gauzy robes stood up in front of the boxes where the nobles sat, fanning themselves and drinking wine chilled by ice from the mountains. I knew only some of their words, but I knew enough to make out that he pointed at me and called me a prize, and called for the combatants. I looked around at the dark splotches in the sand, realized what they were, and my bile rose.

  I heard a gate rising and my head snapped around. A thing ducked out from under it, half again as tall as a man, some conglomeration of human and bull with a great broad body, back-jointed legs that ended in cracked, cloven hooves, and a pair of horns, one broken off half way. The thing threw his head back and roared, lifting a pair of axes to the cheers of the crowd, who went si
lent as the man on the dais called another name and the other gate opened.

  I spared a glance and scurried away, trying to place myself anywhere but between the monsters as I pulled myself to the limit of the chain, and tugged on it in vain hope it would give me a little more. The other creature was much smaller, not much bigger than a man, but thicker and heavier, all muscle. He was from the northern wolf clans, beasts cursed by the gods, yet as I watched him enter the arena, shielding his eyes from the high sun with one huge hand, I was stunned by the primal grace of his movements, his inhuman beauty as he stood tall, a long mane of silver-white fur trailing behind him on the wind. He glanced at me once, golden eyes above a wolf’s muzzle, and nodded. A sob wracked through me and I knew what my fate was to be. They would fight, and then the winner would tear me apart in some mockery of coupling, the crowd cheering as I was ripped open on the sand. The minotaur was so hideous, I somehow found myself hoping the wolf would best him, as if it mattered.

  The first beast, the minotaur, grunted something. I looked at the wolf-man and knew he was doomed. He was smaller, muscular but lithe, built for speed and agility but not strength, and was armed with a long, thin blade on a short haft and a small bronze buckler, and wore only a cloth around his waist and a plate of bronze belted around his chest. His opponent outweighed him, outreached him, and was covered from head to toe in thick plates of armor a normal man could scarcely hope to lift, much less wear.

  The editor of the games shouted something, probably their word for begin. The minotaur lifted his axes for the crowd, aimed one at me, and pumped his hips, and I quailed in fear, curling up on the sand. I prayed loudly, droning, saying the words without meaning them, and the monsters ignored me.

  Or so it seemed. The wolfman put himself between me and the minotaur, moving with a curious, leaping grace on his back-jointed legs, long mane and tail flowing behind him like a cloak. It didn’t matter; to be torn apart by one set of jaws or another mattered little. Still, I hoped that this strange, beautiful creature would be the victor, though I did not know why.

  The minotaur charged, axes swinging, and I covered my mouth to choke a scream as the wolf danced out of the way, rolling under a swing that would have cut him in half. The minotaur stamped towards me, bellowing and blasting foul breath out of his broad nostrils, until the wolf charged behind him and slid his long spear between two plates of armor, then danced back to avoid a swing of the axe as the minotaur turned and bore down on him, stamping away from me. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  The crowd burst out in laughter, loud and raucous as the wolf led the minotaur on a merry chase, his tongue lolling out of his long muzzle, barking laughs yipping out of his chest. The minotaur moved at speed but he was not agile, and when the wolf stopped in mid-sprint, rolled and charged him, he stumbled, his axes swinging at empty air. The wolf leapt for him, landed on his shoulder, and plunged his spear into the minotaur’s neck. The crowd roared, but the beast shook the wolf away and he darted back, easily dodging a slow, awkward swing. The minotaur slowed, leaving a thick trail of blood behind him as he went for the wolf in a huffing fury.

  The wolf danced back, holding his weapons out, exposing his breast, taunting the beast. Even I cheered, and his golden eyes swept over me for one bare second, and one of them closed.

  He winked at me.

  I was still terrified. The minotaur stumbled forward and leaned on one of his axes, huffing.

  “Give up,” the wolf shouted, “I win.”

  Hearing his strangely human voice startled me. He spoke my language.

  The minotaur shouted something that sounded more like an animal moan than words, and ran at him. The wolf ran at him, ducked under his axes, then rammed the blade of his spear under the beast’s arm, into his chest. He spun away, holding only his buckler, covered in a spray of livid red blood. The minotaur turned, huge back flexing as he struggled for breath, dragging one axe behind him as he slowly made his way towards the wolf. He lifted it, swung it, and the haft slipped out of his hand and it landed in the sand with a thump. The beast fell to his knees, vast chest, heaving and rolling, and looked dumbly at the wolf as he lifted the axe and brought it down into the beast’s bull neck.

  The crowd went wild. I put as much distance between myself and the wolfman as I could , pulling in the chain. He strode towards me, blood matted in his fur and on his wolf muzzle, striding with purpose as he undid the belt that held the cloth around his waist. I screamed as he walked the length of the chain, slowly. I moved away from him, walking in a circle at the limit of the chain, frantically pulling on it. The crowd broke into laughter, pointing and hooting and calling lewd suggestions.

  “It’s up to you,” the wolf said, his voice low, only for me. “I can end you quickly or you can let me take you. If I try to spare you they’ll kill us both.”

  I side-walked away from him.

  “Don’t make me do this. I can protect you.”

  “Why?”

  “Just trust me.”

  I realized he was naked from the waist down. Between his furry legs hung his cock, thick and red and hard. I swallowed against my dry throat, feeling the grime coating my body and the eyes of the crowd on me and I stopped moving, letting the chain sag in front of me as he drew closer, licking his tongue over his fangs.

  “They want a show. They want to see me hurt you.”

  As he drew nearer I crossed my arms over my chest. He stank of iron and blood and wet dog, and when I stumbled away from him his powerful arms shot out and grabbed me and the crowd bellowed in rage and lust. I felt his clawed fingers dig into my skin as he pulled me close.

  “I mean you no harm.”

  I nodded slightly, struggling in his grasp. He pulled me close to him and I felt the blood from his fur wetting my skin and shuddered as his member brushed my leg, hard and thick and hot. His tongue lolled out of his muzzle and rolled over my throat, leaving a trail of hot foam behind it. My head fell back and I saw the crowd rising to their feet. I could feel his hot breath washing over me as he spoke in my ear.

  “Ignore them. There is only me. I have to throw you down now.”

  I nodded, and he dragged me to the arena floor, thrusting into the air with his arms raised. The crowd watched his cock bob and laughed and cheered as he fell on top of me, pinning me down. He pulled his arms around me and pressed mine against my chest.

  “I’m going to put it inside you now.”

  I nodded, clenching my teeth. I had never had a man between my legs, and I laughed bitterly as I felt his erection sliding against my thigh. He told me he would be rough with me and he was. He gave me a brief instant to feel the tip of his thick cock against my lower lips, and when he heard my gasp he pushed inside.

  It hurt, and I screamed.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, sliding his cock deeper inside me, “I’m so sorry.”

  I let my head rest on my arm and tried to relax, to give in as he moved inside me. He was enormous. I felt like I was being split open, and I felt a strange, squirming sensation beyond the flash of pain every time he moved. My body welcomed him. I was losing my virginity to a bloodied monster in front of tens of thousands, and somehow I managed to squirm in his grasp, inviting him as I once did when a village boy slid his manhood between my thighs. He took it as a signal and began pumping into my body, his haunches tightening with each thrust. He panted like a dog, drool dripping onto my cheek, and made snarling, huffing sounds.

  The crowd had gone silent. I felt less naked, somehow, covered by his body even as my knees slid in the rough sand of the arena and I squeezed bloodied earth between my fingers, choking gasps each time he pushed into my body. His breath was hot on my neck. People in the stands stood up and craned to see and he shifted to give a better view of his thick member sliding into my shaking body. I arched against him, confused and almost frightened by how good it felt, how I almost forgot all the eyes roaming my sweaty, grimy body as I gave in to lust and moaned loudly, my voice carrying through the arena with
ease.

  “Harder,” I whispered. “Harder.”

  He blinked in surprise. I arched my back under him and he put his hands in the sand beside mine and we coupled in the way of beasts on the floor of the arena, my head hanging between my shoulders as he gave me punishing thrust after punishing thrust. My whole body was slick with blood and grime and dust mingled with sweat, and some of the blood on my legs was mine, but I didn’t care. I felt his jaws close around my neck and thought he was about to betray me, but he only held me still, touching his tongue to the back of my neck as his thrust slowed and he pushed me down into the dirt, resting on top of me.

  I felt a strange sensation building inside me, a shuddering tightness that made me short of breath and drew gasping moans from my throat as it grew and grew, sending twisting trails of shivering pleasure through my body that overwhelmed the heat of the sun and the dust from the arena and made me crave the feeling of his body against me. This monstrous beast with his furry bulk was hammering his cock into my cunt and I did not struggle but met his thrusts with my hips, urging him to press deeper.

  Then, all at once, he pulled away. His cock slid out of my body and he left me lying in the sand, grinding my legs together in a daze, desperate for him to enter me again.

  “You’re not ready,” he rasped. I quivered at the emptiness inside me and pulled feebly at his fur, urging him to rejoin himself to me.

  He pulled away and stood the victor, arms raised, his cock slick with my juices and my virgin’s blood, turning so the crowd could roar and jeer at me, my pale form lying on the sand, naked and defiled. I crawled to him and put my arms around his leg and the crowd bellowed. I saw people in the mob fucking, men standing behind women or other men and thrusting while both stared at us. Others stroked their cocks or flashed their breasts, and the throng was going mad with lust. My champion thrust into the air, his thick manhood bobbing in front of them.