(okay, so I thought I’d have written more about this duo from last year long before now, but… well, what better day than today, to write gay minotaur smut? So, human Thibaud, minotaur Ferdinand Michel, and friends. For Monstrous May’s minotaur day, I’ve included some bulge/comeflation and some no-pregnant-only-breed, overstim, and three times the minotaur.)
There were a lot of things Thibaud hadn’t thought very deeply about, when he’d first taken up with Ferd. In the time they’ve been together, he’s not sure he’d say he’s thought about many more of them– no, things were just… easy, that way. Oh, there were things to think about, when it went from public to private, and casual to serious, and sometimes back to public, and sometimes with others in the mix. A lot of things you think about when you go from attending a man’s underground sex club to moving in together, like whose furniture you use and what the rules are about the kitchen and the bathroom, and who does which chores when.
In their case, some of those questions had surprising answers, but easy ones– they have separate bathrooms and when it comes to scrubbing and shining and cleaning out the drains, it’s every man for himself. When it comes to the kitchen, Ferd buys the groceries and Thibaud does the cooking, and one of Ferd’s wispily-attired but apparently gainfully employed twink attendants comes by and does a deep clean once a month and aside from that whoever makes a mess cleans a mess.
He’d thought it’d be… weirder, how Ferd’s attendants from the club are so woven into his life, how much they like ‘attending’. He’d thought it’d be weird enough knowing that his boyfriend’s job involved sexually dominating crowds of people, that it would be weird starting a genuine relationship with a guy who helped you double-team an old friend. But it’s the most natural thing in the world. They both work nights, they both love having jobs where they’re self-directed, where they get to meet new people.
And when he has a night off, he has to admit, tagging along for an evening in the Labyrinth is his favorite way to spend it, just watching Ferd work. The rippling muscles, the jiggle of his belly and his tits when he’s pounding into someone. Getting to watch him from different angles.
This time, Thibaud actually gets to watch him with one of those attendants, the young man so impossibly small next to Ferd, all peaches and cream pale flushed with pink and barely hairy at all, next to the oiled bronze glow of Ferd’s skin and the bright copper of his shaggy fur. Gets to see the way his hands wrap around the boy’s waist to lift him up, the way his thick cock splits the boy’s pussy open, the obscenely wet noise — and at Ferd’s beckoning look, Thibaud steps up and places his hand over the bulge, he can feel it right through the young man’s belly, can see it moving. Heaven help him, but there’s never been a prettier sight.
Ferd’s a thing of beauty all on his lonesome, and real cute around the house, all big soft eyes and ratty grey sweatpants that were designed to show off just how damn big he is, and how domestic he is having a glass of wine over pasta primavera at five in the morning… but here, he’s something else entirely. Here, he commands with the merest gesture, gives or withholds pleasure or sits back upon his throne to watch. Here, he’s gloriously bare, save the golden caps he’s fitted over the ends of his horns, golden bangles on his wrists, and even smaller ones that tinkle musically against each other on his tail… Some nights he picks out more elaborate jewelry, he has a selection of rings and chains and bells and baubles, headdresses where beads dangle from the impressive span of his horns or harnesses where even a weighty gold chain looks delicate traversing the broad valley between his tits. He’s kept it simpler, today, but he doesn’t shine any less.
“It’s Alexei’s initiation tonight…” Ferd’s voice is sweet and slow and dark as molasses. “I thought you might enjoy watching.”
“Initiation?”
“After tonight, he’s a full-time attendant in the inner circle. Pay raise and insurance are both good, but if you could get a raise, insurance, and have your brains fucked out before a crowd, wouldn’t you prefer to?”
“Shit. Now there’s a downside to being my own boss… Too late for me to get in with you?” He chuckles, hand sliding lower, tracing out Ferd’s shaft right through Alexei– right up until his hand reaches the boy’s dick.
It’s smaller than Thibaud’s thumb, which is what he uses to stroke it, feeling it twitch and jerk before he withdraws.
Ferd carries Alexei like the boy weighs nothing, bouncing him on his cock as he walks, ringing little grunts and moans out of him, brings him to something that, in practical terms, Thibaud would describe as a breeding bench, but which he feels he might more accurately call an altar. Sex is sacrament, here.
“Is that for us?” Another low voice from the shadows, rougher than Ferd’s and just as deep, and Thibaud didn’t know there were other minotaurs at Labyrinth, though it makes sense.
Can’t have a Labyrinth without a minotaur, after all, and Ferd’s got actual office duties, too. And nights off sometimes.
There are two more– Thibaud may be biased, thinking Ferd’s as handsome as a minotaur could ever get, but his friends are plenty to look at, too. One, broad-shouldered, trimmer hips and less belly than Ferd, his skin a deep olive tan and his hair and fur a glossy, warm black, he’d been the one to speak. He’s already half hard when he steps into the light, dressed in nothing but a glinting silver nose ring– caps to match it at the tips of big, dark, curving horns– and a faux-leather band around one bicep that could practically be a belt on Alexei. The other is softer, his cock and his build, with a strawberry birthmark stretched around one hip, with cream-colored fur, but a shock of dark hair on his head and a nest of darker hair around his stirring cock.
Unlike Ferd and their other friend– coworker? — his choice of accessories are more colorful– a brightly-beaded wire wrap bracelet wound around his tail, silky little pom-poms and copper bells that dangle from his earrings and the caps on his horns. A clear varnish on his nails, studded with little rhinestones that catch the low, golden light.
“Well, hell. You fellas come here often?” Thibaud whistles, looking the pair of them up and down.
“Hey, now.” The second minotaur flaps a hand at him, laugh musical. “Alexei goes first, you. And then if the big man says we can, I’ll give you a ride.”
He doesn’t honestly think Ferd would refuse. So far in their relationship, everything’s been fair game in a group, they both know who they go home with come morning.
“Thibaud Landry, and I’m looking forward to it.”
“Friends call me Buck.” The first of the two reaches him for a handshake first, giving him an openly appreciative eye. “And this here’s Larry.”
He’s definitely heard Buck’s name– maybe heard about both of them, just not knowing they were minotaurs.
“Shift manager Buck? Good to meet you. And you– you a real cutie, Larry.” He winks. No telling if Larry blushes, of course, but his ears wiggle, and he gives that ‘oh, you’ flap of the hand again.
Introductions made, they all let the full weight of their attention fall on Alexei, on Ferd fucking him, the little noises that fall from his cupid’s-bow lips, the wide-splayed legs that started out wrapped around Ferd’s waist and now just bounce with each thrust like the rest of him. How flushed he is… well, and some of that being gravity, the bench angling him just a little.
Just enough that when Ferd stills and pulls free, not too much come spills out of the boy.
“Thank you.” Alexei says dreamily, with his pleasure-wrecked voice, with his limbs and his head dangling limp and his cock still standing at attention.
Thibaud waves off the other attendants who circle ‘round, takes the golden bowl and the soft cloth and handles wiping Ferd down himself. They know him by now, knows when he’s here he likes to do that part. Likes to start with his broad chest, and the sweat gathered underneath his fat tits, and work his way down to the slowly-softening cock. He kneels and presses a kiss there, while he cleans him up, smiling at the affectionate touch to his head.
“That was something.” He murmurs. “Seeing you like that, right through him.”
“Mm. You want next?”
“Hell yes, I do. Gonna put me up on that bench and breed me, stud? You and your buddies? Use me like a bitch?”
Ferd laughs, tugging him to his feet again. “A dog breeds a bitch. You’d be a heifer.”
“Doesn’t sound as much like dirty talk.”
“Oh, by the time we’ve had you, you won’t be nitpicking.”
He doesn’t doubt that. One of Ferd’s enough to drive him out of his mind, times he bottoms.
They both move to watch Buck take his turn– from behind, Thibaud gets an eyeful of Buck’s tattoo, USDA PRIME BEEFCAKE stamped on his ass.
“He thinks he’s funny.” Ferd whispers.
“I bet he is.” Thibaud laughs, and he moves around to get a better eyeful, Buck’s thick cock sliding in and out… that bulge moving within Alexei as it does. “Bet he’s a barrel of laughs. Should have him over sometime, him and Larry, bet they could tell me some wild stories about you.”
Ferd huffs out a sigh, moving around to stroke Alexei’s hair. “That’s not fair. You know I can’t invite Clifton over to tell wild stories about you, he’ll just wind up with my cock down his throat.”
Alexei makes a hopeful sort of noise at that, and Ferd chuckles, sliding two big fingers into his mouth.
“Man can dream.”
And Thibaud will, he knows– maybe some of the appeal of monsters, over humans, has always been getting to be with someone powerful enough to make him feel… not small, necessarily, but not big. Too often, he feels too big out in the world, self-conscious of it. Too easy to feel like a bull in a china shop, having to keep himself constrained, wanting to not knock anything over with a wild elbow, sure, but more than that, not wanting to scare folks just by being loud while too big.
With Ferd, he gets to feel downright dainty. Between Ferd and Buck and Larry all at once? It’s a dizzying prospect. Of course he wants it.
