Release the feeling with more screams of pleasure.

From Create Your Own Story

It's at that moment when you shout that the serpent man shows up at your face and coils his tail around your neck. The pressure around your throat and the inhuman pounding inside your vagina inflates your breasts again, squirting jets of milk into the bowls and onto the floor. A mouthful of your own milk makes its way onto your tongue. You never realized how sweet it tasted.

The serpent man put his hands on your face and squeezes open your mouth. You don't see a penis at first, but a bright pink and prickly shaft flies out from a pouch where a human groin would be and shoots down your throat. Your own milk is lubricating it, through the reptilian dick is much rougher, meant to enter its mate and not come out.

He stays deep in your mouth no matter how much his hips thrust, ultimately making you gag every time his cock rubs around in your mouth. The minotaur lifts you up, letting you hang from the bull-centaur's grip at your waist as the two hybrids tenderize your hardened body. Muscle tough and taught from years of rigid paladin might as well be mince meat in their forceful hands.

The serpent and bull manage to finish at the same time, filling your pussy with what felt like a bucket load of bull semen while the serpent pulled out and hosed your face with his own, slightly clear, cum. As soon as the bull pulls out of you, your legs curl up and rub together, smearing the cum all over your clit. The warmth and moisture from the both of them stirs your breasts, and none of them need to do anything to get the milk to drain from your nipples.

"A good haul for only a few minutes," the minotaur said, weighing the bowls of milk. You catch her eyes glance over to your belly, where magic had already begun working. Your vagina is definitely stretched wide enough to birth a bull-centaur foal, the only pain comes from the single tumultuous contraction that pushes the baby out.

The minotaur takes up the child and looks at it with a smile. "It's a girl," she says, handing it to the bull-centaur. "Congratulations."

He nods and turns to walk out the door, likely to take the child somewhere better to be cleaned up and raised. The hybrids are courteous enough to give you a minute of rest, but as soon as you catch your breath, the deer-centaur is on top of you.

Personal tools