The mood was heavy, the air silent save for the duo’s steps up the next staircase. Even if Geecku had seemed gleeful and confident in her ability to placate the puppies, it was as though all the cheer amongst the group had been left in the kennels with her. Rachael slumped up the stairs, regretful and lacklustre, while Mora had begun gradually widening the distance between them, more resolute than ever in her desire to clear out and profit from this den of depravity that had claimed two of her dear comrades. Or rather, the two comrades she liked more than the one that yet remained, dragging her feet to the threshold of the next floor. 
They’d risen into a bare square chamber with walls of plain, rough, dirty granite on all sides, with three pathways leading forwards, and to their left and right respectively. Above, a metal grating in a tight criss-cross pattern formed the ceiling, stretching off along all the pathways. Through the tiny gaps in the grating came an ominous crimson light, cast onto the chamber and pathways in an unending flecked pattern, like sunlight through a rainforest canopy. 
Quite unlike sunlight, however, this light was menacing and otherworldly. 
Mora gripped her club tight as she cautiously stepped forwards. Rachael sighed at the top of the staircase, out of exhaustion and resignation to whatever train of thought had been paining her since they’d left Geecku.
“Mora, listen, I-”
“Shuddup.” Mora snapped back, under her breath, a hand raised. 
Both girls were still. At first, silence. Then, a steady sound. 

*Click* *Click* *Click*

It came from above, in a steady rhythm, for a fleeting few moments before stopping completely. The grating above them rattled lightly under the force of whoever, whatever, was pacing about up there, just out of eyesight of the feisty pair. 
“Found you.” Mora whispered.
“Huh?” Rachael said, more a confused sound than a word. 
“Never mind. This way.” Mora said gruffly, walking off down the left hand pathway. Rachael shuffled behind, clutching her bruised ribs. 
The silence returned, more painfully awkward than ever now that Mora had begun moving with a strangely sudden yet unchallenged sense of purpose. The corridor she’d led them down opened up into another chamber, identical to the last, with three more paths leading onwards. Without hesitation, Mora took the right hand path, which soon led to another chamber of the same design, at which Mora proceeded straight forwards. 
Rachael stuck as close behind as she could; not only was she much more vulnerable now, having been wounded in her run-in with the hounds and losing one of her daggers in the fray, but for one reason or another, Mora seemed to know which way to go at every junction. 
That, or the bovine was too stubborn and angry to admit she was lost, and was just following blind instinct. 
Nevertheless, Rachael clung to her comrade as they walked the labyrinth. 
“Think Geecku’s gonna be okay?” She weakly posed. 
“Hope so.” Mora grunted. “That girl’s tough, but...”  
Her words petered out as she turned a corner, then immediately swerved back around it, almost forcing Rachael to career right into the bovine’s breasts. 
“Minotaur.”
“Mino-what? Huh? What are...” Rachael babbled, too wrapped in her own thoughts and surprised by Mora’s sudden about turn to really process the word. Once she managed to, she almost hollered.
“A Minotaur?! Are you serious?! Mora, you’ve got a good arm and all, but in our shape we can’t-”
“I know.” Mora interrupted, speaking under her breath as she ushered Rachael down a different path. Not that she’d say a word about it to the bitter black kitten, but Mora felt a pang of gratitude at the praise Rachael had actually verbally expressed for a moment there.
“Better that we lay low. He’ll know his way around this maze like the back of his gross hairy hand, but I don’t think he knows we’re here yet. We can bypass him. This way.”
“Yeah... right...” Rachael said reassuringly, more for her own sake than Mora’s. But the question was burning on her lips, and it had to be asked. 
“How is it that you know your way around, anyway? Seriously, this is a little uncanny.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve done my research, girlfriend. Every wraith n’ necromancer this side of Gossamer thinks they’re so original when they put a labyrinth in their dungeon. Oldest trick in the book. ...Literally; I read a book all about it in the Guild’s library. They’re easy once you know what to look for.”
Rachael was suddenly curious. Research aside, Mora seemed strangely well prepared for such a specific situation. Was she really only in this for the promise of epic loot to be found in this crazy, creepy cavern? So far, the place had seemed as bare as could be. But there was no time for a lecture, and Rachael was keen to put as much distance between themselves and that hulking bull as possible. 
They crept around the corridors with light footsteps and hushed breathing. On occasion, heavy hooved steps could be heard, their blunt clopping pace booming through the labyrinth like a distant ominous drum. Between Mora’s reliable lay of the land and Rachael’s talented feet, sensitive as they were to movements of encroaching hostiles, they managed to keep out of the Minotaur’s line of sight. As time passed it became clear that the bull had clocked on that someone was skulking around his realm, as his pace quickened and he became more thorough in scanning each twist and turn of the maze. Still, with the help of distraction tactics such as pebbles tossed down dead ends, the pair never met the hulking brute eye to evil eye. Even if it had meant occasionally getting uncomfortably close in a shallow alcove in order to keep hidden, their bodies smearing together and near-equally buxom breasts pushing into one another in a cushy embrace. They didn’t need to discuss it to know that when things like that happen in a dungeon, they stay in the dungeon. 
Rachael had soon completely surrendered her sense of direction, and her composure was not holding very fast either after what couldn’t have been less than thirty minutes of pacing and sneaking about. The whole place was so monotonous that as far as she knew they could have been one wrong turn away from the entrance at any point. She gritted her teeth and whipped her tail about in frustration. Worse than the confusion as to her location and the constant tension of being slowly but surely hunted down by the Minotaur, was the thought that she actually needed Mora to make it out of this alive. 
She was getting tired of looking at Mora’s broad, tanned back, the powerful musculature along her arms, the way that her bountiful bovine breasts gave miniscule jiggles whenever she made abrupt or hasty movements, the fluttering of her two-tone skirt that teased out each inch of flesh around her thighs... 
Rachael shut her eyes tight for but a moment to convince herself that her obsession was borne from envy of Mora’s battle-ready physique, and not-
“Yes!” 
Mora threw off Rachael’s train of thought with accidentally impeccable timing, causing the kitten to career into Mora’s short-furred behind. Rachael fumbled and cursed under her breath from the impact, while Mora stood stoic and silent. 
“What the fuck now?!” Rachael hissed, still careful of keeping her voice down.  
“There’s our exit.” Mora said, with a grin on her face that Rachael could practically hear even from behind. 
The pair had reached what seemed at first glance to be another damnable dead end, but in the middle of the room, the crisscrossing pattern of light and shadow that had been cast down into the labyrinth became a clear circle of light on the ground. Directly above, a wide round hole in the grated ceiling, like a manhole, offered their freedom. 
Rachael sighed in relief, but also joined Mora in a nervous chuckle. It was about time they’d seen some luck. There was little time to waste however, and they both knew it. Rachael could still feel the ripples of the Minotaur’s hooves, not far away. There was only one challenging aspect of this, their only chance at escape. The hole was too high above for either of them to reach on their own. 
“I’ll give you a boost.” Rachael said, already walking underneath the hole and getting on one knee, hands grasped together to make an improvised foothold.
“You... sure?” Mora paused. “No offense kitten, but I’m pretty...”
“Heavy? Yeah.” 
“...I’m gonna let you have that. But you sure you can give me enough push to get up there?” 
“Think about it, it’s that or I go up first and try to pull you and that tree you call a club up from underneath. Besides...” Rachael sunk her gaze, ears flattening to her head as she mumbled even quieter. “It’s about time I show what I can do.” 
Mora smirked, and approached, hopping her foot into Rachael’s grasp before setting her club down. “Battering Bertha” could always be tossed up after her. 
“Thanks, kitten. Ready... Set... UP!” 
She counted Rachael down, before in one mighty motion, Rachael put her whole back into sending Mora leaping upwards. The strain was electrifying, and the only way she thought herself able of managing to lift her hefty companion was with a hearty cry. 
“Hrrrrrrrnghhhhaaaah!!” She roared, while Mora desperately reached up to the hem of the manhole. 
Mora’s fingers dug into the edge with all her might. 
There was no time for celebration; Rachael’s noises had not gone unnoticed, and now the clopping heavy footsteps were closing in on them. 
Mora tugged herself up and through the opening, almost collapsing on the chamber floor before she was reminded that she wasn’t alone, when Battering Bertha came flying up through the hole right behind. 
Mora crawled over to the edge of the hole and gave Rachael a clear thumbs up. 
“Way to go, Rach!” She exclaimed, seeing little reason to hush now. 
“Yeah yeah, c’mon, gimme your hand!” 

“No.”

Rachael stood dumbfounded. 
“What.” 
“I don’t need you any more.” Mora’s eyes stung through the vile crimson light. 
“What?” 
“I ain’t here for treasure, or fame, bitch. I’m here for revenge. Shame about Geecku, poor girl. But I needed you to get through the maze. She’d have run us right into that big ugly bull. But now there’s nothing in my way.”
“WHAT?!” 
 “You heard me.” 
“YOU... BITCH!”
“Oh, cry me a fuckin’ river, kitty. You don’t know what I’ve been through in this hellhole before today. You’ll thank me once our hairy friend down there is done. Speaking of which, I’d love to stay and see you get what you deserve, but I’ve got bigger prey to hunt.” 
Mora stood up, stared down at Rachael through her own cleavage, and gave a parting wave. 
“Be a good pussy, pussy~” 
With that, she was gone. 

For a good minute, Rachael simply howled bloody cursing murder up at Mora, even after she knew the bovine had sauntered well out of earshot. 
That was until she heard, and practically felt, a colossal presence looming over her from behind. 
She promptly shut herself up, body frozen rigid. All that could be heard, after the echo of her curses had faded away, was steady, huffing, steaming breaths that washed over the back of her neck and made her fur stand on end. 
For a moment, she wondered if the beast simply couldn’t see her, if she was stood perfectly still. Some animals did that... right?! Not that she’d know, this being her first adventure. 
It’d be fun, Mora had said. We’ll show the guild who’re the girls to watch, Mora had said. 
Bitch. 
Whether her theory about the bull staring her down from behind was true or not, Rachael knew she’d have but one chance, at best. She gripped her one remaining blade tight. This wall of muscle was strong, but she was speedy, and smart. All it’d take would be a quick turn, a pivot in place, a slice of her steel along his neck, then she could sprint off and let him bleed out. 
Rachael spun with all the swiftness her lithe yet curvy body could offer, her wrist rising up, blade swooping to where she approximated his neck to be. 
Within a second, her wrist was grabbed, her body slammed to the wall, and her lips immersed in a hot, wet kiss. 

Disbelief cascaded through her body almost as fast as the minotaur’s tongue went slithering down her throat. Her wide eyes were still acclimatising to the sight of the monstrous man’s face pressed right against her own, every wrinkle and hair and scar as obvious as his glowing red stare which was locked on her unflinchingly. Everything about him, from his hand around her diminutive wrist, his cut chest smooshed into her belted up breasts, his huge muzzle encasing her lips within his own and that writhing flexible tongue which lashed and forcibly washed its’ playmate in saliva, made one fact clear to Rachael. 
The difference in their power was immense, and if he wanted to claim her, he could. 
That helplessness froze her with fear, the fear of one’s own inadequacy that she’d so desperately sought to never feel again in becoming an adventurer. She hated her own weaknesses above all else in the world. To be ‘defeated’ before any kind of fight had begun, in such a vile way as this was beyond humiliating. To be forced into such submission to a powerful male, to acknowledge him as her better, something to be taken, contrary to his every whim... 
Somehow, in the deepest depths of shame, it gave her pleasure. Excitement. Anticipation. Though that too enriched the shame she cast inwards. She shouldn’t feel turned on by having this brutish bull manhandle her, restrain her, tonguefuck her mouth... 
So then, why was she now beginning to kiss him back? Why were her eyes drifting shut? Why was a purr resonating around her lips, while his musky breaths and copious saliva coated her tastebuds and fogged her mind? 
Just as suddenly as he’d kissed her, he drew his lips away. A chain of shared saliva lingered, bridging their mouths for a moment before breaking. Rachael stuttered, panted and shivered, body immersed in an embarrassing and inescapable heat as she stared into the bull’s face, waiting for him to make a smutty, cocky, proud remark that never came. 
“Sorry your friend’s such a bitch.” He grunted. “Rules are rules though. Now you got a choice.” 
Rachael hadn’t even been expecting him to be intelligent, let alone capable of speech. Before she knew it, she was silently nodding him onwards, eyes accidentally straying over his body as she did so. Fur tufted up around his arms and legs, flaring out around his massive hands and slab-like hooves, but his dark leathery hide was bare of clothing and fur alike all around his chest and back. She didn’t need two guesses as to what he had concealed under the black loincloth riding low on his hips. 
“Either I fight you fair and square, and claim your head...” His words were eloquent but stern, possessed of terrifying sincerity. Before he continued, he glanced her up and down as well, brows barely but noticeably rising. 
“...Or we see who can ‘outlast’ the other.” 
His face was still leering down over her, his head, horns and mane shielding her from the crimson light above and bathing her in a foreboding and intimidating darkness. 
Rachael could still taste his breath in the back of her mouth. 
“Fine.” She sounded out, glancing down south, then to her side, then anywhere in her field of vision that wasn’t occupied by his huge form. 
“Speak up.” He sternly breathed, his other hand grasping her chin and forcing her gaze to meet his own. 
His eyes met hers once more, and at that moment, the roiling heat that had been clouding her thoughts since the kiss reached fever pitch. Her heart was pounding, her body was frozen, and her pussy burned. 
“Fine! God, just... Fuck me, you stupid bull! Do it! I’ll beat you at your own game... I’ll milk you dry and get that bitch back and... And...” 
Her words faded off. Her words hadn’t prompted but the slightest smirk from him.
“Big talk.” He growled, before ripping her belt off of her chest, freeing her buxom breasts and perky nipples with a hearty jiggle in her flesh and a sharp gasp turned hiss instinctively drawn from her mouth. “Lets’ see if you know how to use that bombshell of a body.” 
Before she could give a witty retort at best, or swear him down at least, his hardy palm grabbed her breast, and kneaded it aggressively. His fingers dug in with expert, practiced force, the kind of technique that only a hunk with years of ‘experience’ could muster. Her perky nipple, already stiff with arousal, was smeared into his rough manly palm. 
Any words she would have spat up at him melted into nonsense, cut off by another messy kiss he took from her. Her eyes immediately shut. Purely so that she could distract herself from the taste, the warmth, the moisture, of course. When he pulled back once more, her eyes twitched, her chest wiggled into his touch, and her pussy drooled. 
He released her wrist. With both her arms freed once more, Rachael had the best chance she’d likely get to retaliate. 
The minotaur’s head curved and dived for her neck in a smooth motion, his jaws exhaling in a gush of humid masculine air before closing around her flesh. He chewed, licked and gnarled around the mouthful of kitten he’d captured. 
“Nyaaaaaaah~!” Rachael was still holding her knife. She could deliver a flurry of stabs before the burly bull knew what hit him. 
While his left hand switched to paw possessively at (or more accurately, around, given the sheer breadth of his grasp around even her generous flesh) her other sensitive chest cushion, he gripped her hotpants by the thigh in a curled fist. He grunted out his intentions, the words muffed around her neck, audible only to her close, keen ears.
“Hahhh... D-Don’t... I’ll...” Rachael had wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hands splaying over his rippling back (almost certainly so she could stab him there), and loosened the grip on her weapon (almost certainly to lure him into a false sense of security). 
The bull tore her hotpants away like they were paper ripped from a newspaper. By the time the garment had flopped to the floor of the labyrinth, his fingers had delved between the burning folds of her pussy, two thick digits curling their way inside her. 
“Ohh gods! OH FUCK! Just... Just...” With one of Rachael’s legs wrapped around his waist, her spare hand clawing into his strong back and body gyrating into his molesting, invading hands, she was in the perfect position to slice into him. 
She could turn this around... She could still escape...
She could... She could...
She could feel his hand hoisting up her other leg. 
“Beg.”
She could feel his cock prodding against her pussy.
“I... I...”
She couldn’t take it any more!
“FUCK ME! PLEASE!!! FUCKING FUCK ME! POUND MY PUSSY! BREED ME! NYAAAAAAAAAH~!!!” 
In the moments before her mind melted away around his splitting shaft, she saw him finally smile. 
“New record.”

Rachael had gotten used to getting her way in the bedroom, used to calling the shots and leading matters in response to her own needs. If a lover of hers played along well, then she was usually glad to ensure their own pleasure was tended to. It gave her a warm, lasting confidence to know that between her built-yet-bountiful body and her mischievously dominant sexual demeanour, she could wrap any man around her finger. Or at least, she had assumed as much. 
She was so used to taking sex how she liked it, that the opposing delight of being forced to submit to the will and strength of another, one who could and would take what they wanted from her, had never crossed her mind before that day. It seemed that her inexperience was not restricted to adventuring. There was a lot that even this prideful pussy had yet to learn about sex as well. 
Thankfully, as her moans, mewls and begs echoed through the twisted halls, Rachael was being given a thorough lesson about all the pleasures of submission that she’d been missing out on. 
“Nyaaaaaahh! Oh fuck! Ohhh FUCK!!” She shuddered once again, her body pummelled into the wall behind for the umpteenth time by the minotaur’s punishing hips and immense cock. His member twitched violently within her, but only because he willed it to. Rachael was quickly learning that a man like this, a real man, was in complete control of every speck of his body, and knew just how to use it to make a girl melt. Partially for her pleasure, but largely for his own satisfaction; the delight of showing his prey how thoroughly he could wrench control of her body, her mind, her very soul, from Rachael herself. 
She never imagined how good it felt to give it all up, either. 
“More! More! Please!” She sang, her words weak and high pitched. 
“More what?” The bull grunted, his speech only minimally affected by the pleasure of their rutting. 
“More... cock! Fuck me deeper, give your kitty more! I want your thick fucking cock! Please!” Rachael obediently, immediately mewled. 
“I don’t care what you want.” The male growled around a mouthful of her neck, causing Rachael to howl with her head to the sky and her pussy clenching in soaked need around his spearing shaft while it bottomed out deep inside her. “I’ll take what I want... from you, and... you’ll like it. I know... what makes sluts like you squirt. Now be a good slut...” his teeth nipped off of Rachael’s furry flesh just before he held her by the ass, fingers making creases in her globes of jiggling rear, and began lowering her from the wall where she’d been restrained all this time. “...and take my whole cock in.” 
With a firm, forceful hold on her ass and his cock still buried inside her, the minotaur fell forwards and pressed Rachael to the floor, with his body pinning her from above. 
She’d whimpered and struggled slightly amidst the confusion, but never relinquished her limbs’ desperate cling around his torso. But by the time she was brought to the floor and pounded deeper still, with his weight and musk immersing her, Rachael’s arms collapsed behind her head and her brain fried in pleasure.
“OHHHGODS!! NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! YES! YES! YES DADDY! FUCK YOUR SLUT, PUMP MY PUSSY! I’LL BE YOUR GOOD SLUT! ANYTHING! JUST DON’T STOP!” 
With her chest bared, the minotaur showed no hesitation in grabbing and molesting both of her breasts. Now that his prey was defeated and made willing, with her lewd tongue-lolling expression proof of such, and she didn’t need propping up against gravity, he could go all out. 
His hips hammered home time and time and time again, his balls making contact under her penetrated pussy with splashing, steady slaps, his musky male flesh now sopping with the flow of juices drooling out of her. His back arched in a triumphant stretch, throwing his steaming muzzle to the heavens as the delight of pillowy flesh in his palms heightened the sexual thrill pulsating through every inch of his member. Like an endless erotic feedback loop, those thrilling pulses stimulated Rachael’s folds, which in turn clenched around his flesh with the exquisite bathing embrace that only a woman enraptured in passion could provide a man. 
Rachael’s moans and mewls bounced around as ferociously as her head tossed and turned, hair frazzling and ankles shunting into the bull’s lower back each time she was rutted along the ground, testament to his raw power. Her clammy hands scratched and scraped along the ground, desperate to find purchase, to cling to something, to ride the wave of pleasure being forced upon her by a partner that boasted such confident control over her motions and thoughts. Eventually her hands came to rest around the minotaur’s own wrists, hardening his grasp and coaxing him to press on her breasts with greater aggression still. 
The bull tore his gaze downards, his expression starting to embody the roiling lust Rachael had initially expected him to carelessly explore when he’d first lashed his tongue down her throat. She glared back with the predatory adrenaline fuelled stare of a woman intoxicated on everything about the man exerting ownership over her. Her man. 
“Fuck me... with all you got, you filthy mother fucker...” She spat. “You wanna break me? Then fucking DESTROY ME!” 
He leant down further, while keeping himself fully lodged inside her, meeting the fire of her eyes with his own practiced burning stare. 
“You talk too much.” 
Immediately, he called and raised Rachael on her challenge. His hips pistoned inside her only to slither back out with cruel haste and follow up with a thrust as brutal as the last. His hands grasped around her breasts with enough strength to actually use the yielding, fleshy soft globes as leverage by virtue of their size and his force. As much pleasure as any hotblooded man would gain from getting two handfuls of hearty furry tits, the way he grabbed and used them was borne more out of desire to put this woman, this veritable sex object that had submitted to the will of her better, to best possible use. 
Rachael felt used, alright. She felt humiliated, defeated, used and abused, with not a shred of choice in the matter of how hard her loins were incessantly pounded. And it was driving her insane. 
“FUUCCCCKKK!!!” She swore, time and time again. Every time he grunted and hilted, another obscenity would be sung from her salivating lips and lopping tongue, her hands having taken to clawing through her own hair and one of his rippling arms above after it became clear he needed no ‘tutelage’ whatsoever, when it came to pounding a pussy. 
He gave little sign or warning of his approaching climax. Not that he needed to, with Rachael’s pussy clenching in her fourth orgasm of their time together amidst the vicious motions he tortured her with so deliciously. Her tail whipped, hips bucked, pussy clenching and squirting with such volume that an observer would think she’d not cum in years. Too distracted by her own ecstasy to notice the minotaur panting more vocally and his breaths quickly becoming haggard, Rachael had no idea of his own fast encroaching high at first. However once she opened her eyes, the flushed face and sweat-gleaming chest above made it more than clear.   
“Cum in me... you fucking bastard...” 
His hand whipped off her breast and ensnared her by the chin. His face was close enough for her to feel his sweat dripping onto her brow, and trace every furious crease of his scowl. More terrifying than anything else, his thrusts had stopped completely. 
“Ask nicely, Cunt.” His words burned with a force that could not be stopped. “You’re mine now, and you will obey.” 
Her response fell out of her mouth as fast as her remaining pride was shattered from her soul. Given gladly, to her better. Her owner. 
“YES! PLEASE! CUM IN ME MASTER! FLOOD MY PUSSY DADDY! I’M YOURS! ANYTHING, JUST PLEASE! PLEASE!” 
He’d resumed and redoubled his pace halfway through her screams. With hands both back on her tits, teeth chewing a marking lovebite like a brand of her submission into her neck, and cock splitting her apart with incomparable speed and force, he let loose inside her. 
“NNGH!” Came his short sharp cry, a minimal marker of the immense flood of thick bull sperm pouring into her womb and washing back out of Rachael. 
For once, Rachael was silent, her mouth deprived of all but breathless panting. The heat and pressure of his climax, now splattering back out of her and gathering a puddle of spunk amidst the abundant juices, saliva and sweat already pooling beneath her matted back, was all her mind knew, for those fleeting moments. After each shot of fertile male essence was sent pumping straight into the core of her womanhood, with his hearty balls smacking and churning with twisting hip motions coaxing out every dose of pleasure he could wrench from his newest conquest. 
Rachael felt immersed in the man. Her man... her Master. There was no more feminine feeling to be had in the world, as far as she knew. 
Some moments passed, that could well have been an hour. 
In the ether, she heard no words of thanks, compassion, romance or regret. In their place came a simple, whispered command from the massive weight above her, crushing and filling and fulfilling and intoxicating her. 
“Clean my cock up, bitch.” 
Some moments later, that could well have been an hour, Rachael would find herself with the cock that’d broken her in so thoroughly, wrapped up in her breasts and twitching against her tongue, which seemed to be licking over the bulbous head with a hearty purr. She wondered, with a thoughtful wiggle of her hips, how she’d gotten there. 
But that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore, but pleasure, and Him.