It felt humiliating being a prize for someone. Unlike the rest of the humans that were being chained and marched off to the fields, Adrian was pulled out of the line of prisoners and forced to the center of the village. There they tied a leash around his neck and tied him to a stake in the ground. The minotaurs surrounding him weren’t the raging, terrifying warriors he’d seen overrun the human village. They had lost that savagery and merely sat in the heavy sun, eagerly watching the dispute in the ritualistic circle that had been drawn in the dirt. 

“This is a mistake, Rojo.” The minotaur who had just spoke had been the bull organizing the new slaves the tribe had acquired. He was probably the one Adrian technically belonged to now.

The large minotaur named Rojo only laughed as he stepped into the circle, sweat trickling down his hulking frame. “True, but it remains to be proven who’s mistake it is.”

“I staked my claim first. It belongs in the fields with the rest of its kind. It is cruel to separate the calf from the herd, would it not?”

“Putting it in the fields is a waste. Look at it; it would snap like a dry twig after merely a week of the labor. Step away and I will shelter it in the shadow of my yurt as I will shelter your good reputation. Be reasonable, Gotro. I would pay handsomely for it.” He removed his long, sleeveless shirt tossing it aside. Like all minotaurs he was built strong and durable, but he seemed to have more fat on his hide than the rest of his tribe. Adrian was appalled that he wore nothing else underneath.

Adrian could not decide which he would rather belong to. If he had a choice he would wish he were not baking in the boiling sun. The young human had heard of the terrible life a field slave could have under the cruel duress of the bull-men, but it might be better to die from the exhausting work than to be claimed for some unknown purpose. At least there would be other humans around, old friends and his family as well. Regardless, the choice was not his and he resented it.

“This is folly.” The other bull barked as he removed his garments, stepping into the ring wearing only a loose cloth around his groin. “It will break with you faster than the fields. You are selfish and conceited.”

“And I am the chief’s son.” Rojo hoofs dragged along the ground, making large trenches as he took his place.  “It would be disrespectful towards my upbringing to not be so bold.”

Rojo’s opponent charged, head bowed low. The royal bull barely flinched as he caught the older minotaur, standing his ground as the two butted heads. They bellowed viciously, struggling to gain purchase and force the other towards the edge of the circle. The point of the fight was to knock the opponent out of the ring, Adrian supposed.

Rojo’s fist came around and battered his opponents side, striking him hard and fast before he began to steadily move forward while Gotro grappled with the younger minotaurs horns. He yanked Rojo and tried fling him aside, twisting his body and throwing his weight along with it. Rojo shoved back, reaching down to the older bull’s waist and clutching the band of his loincloth, bringing their combined weight towards the circles edge with a mighty heave. With a thunderous roar, Rojo swung his weight about, using the leverage on the bull’s hip to aid in tossing Gotro outside the circle.

The minotaur bounced and rolled. He rose quickly and slammed a fist into the ground, bellowing loudly before charging back towards the circle. Rojo barely moved, merely opening his arms wide and butting heads with his opponent. Adrian feared there would be another fierce bout from the way Gotro growled and strained against Rojo’s brow. The ground beneath them strained as both of the hoofed feet pushed against one another.

Finally, Gotro stepped back and wiped the dusty sweat from his hide dismissively. “Take him.”

“Many thanks.” Rojo muttered in return. He turned to the others of his tribe, arms spread wide as he proudly announced, “Are there any who deny me my claim?”

It was hard to read the expressions on the other minotaurs. Most were looking away, as though to distance themselves from the combat. Most returned their own private duties as they had been doing while the duel had begun. Worse yet, the humans at the edge of the village were grimacing as they were led away by the bull who had taken possession of his whole village. Everything felt hopeless. Pointless to resist. Which was particularly odd since Adrian found these sensations were foreign to him. He was not one to take defeat lying down

“Aye,” Adrian declared loudly as he stood up, chains rattling. “I shall challenge your claim.”

It was something the minotaur tribe had not expected. All activity ceased and all eyes turned from Adrian. He must have looked much like the chief’s son had described. A twig; brown skin, dark hair and limbs that would break under the thumb of any of the horned beasts that surrounded him. Yet, he tried to remain calm. Clearly, he’d broken expectations. All, even the humans, had expected the chief’s son to drag him off to some unknown fate and all would return to its proper place. Now, each face whirled to stare at Rojo, pondering his reaction. Would it be one of outrage? Dismissal?

The immense bull indeed stood as shocked as the rest. Adrian imagined it might have been the first time he had ever been talked to in such a manner by any creature other than his own kin who he brushed off with ease. To his credit, he raised his arms, as though in amazement. His voice was brisk and bemused. “Forgive me for saying, but I fear I might break you if I were to deign you as a challenge. Is this some last act of desperation? Am I to be tricked?”

Adrian knew better. The minotaur prince was eight feet tall and a hundred stones more heavy than himself. Were he to somehow best the bull, he knew the other minotaurs would disregard such a tiny, frail creature like him. The ways of the minotaur were privy only to their kind. Adrian was not even titled to their laws and ways and to challenge them was like a fish taunting the heron. He could not escape this fate.

At the very least, he could make a show of it.

Adrian stuck his hands on his hips and turned his head to one side. “It is as you said. It would be disrespectful towards my upbringing to not be so bold.”

Laughter. Boisterous, heavy guffaws. The tribe bellowed with laughter. The loudest of them all was Rojo who was bent forward, clutching his sagging belly as though it might spill out from his arms. The broad bull stumbled over and ripped the chain linking Adrian’s wrists from the pole, splitting the wood with a sharp crack. His brute strength was terrifying, but his face was almost more so with the wide grin he wore. “Were I chief, I might gamble on such a soul as you. It is unfortunate you were born a slave instead of one of our tribe’s steers. Perhaps the Goddess will lead you back one back.”

Adrian had expected to at least be bullied back into submission but his new owner appeared amused rather than irritated. More so, he was being humored, as though he was to be some kind of Fool for the odd court of this tribe. He’d only seen one long ago when the Duke passed through the small village. He prayed he would not be forced to bounce around in bells and ribbons. 

Rojo gave the chain leash a tug, testing the control he had over the manacles on the human’s wrists. “Come with me, boy.” He said, turning to walk deeper into the minotaur village. Adrian stood still at first, feeling the burning desire to act out with violence; screaming, biting and thrashing. He imagined a courageous escape, but he knew better. The sacking of his village had taught him the violence these creatures were capable of. At the very least he could wait for a proper opportunity to distance himself or strike out. He felt his feet suddenly dragging against the dirt of the circle, the pull of the chain forcing him to step in tune to the stride of the chief’s son.

The excitement of the fight had faded and minotaur and humans alike were moving to other duties. Adrian silently hoped none of his family had seen what had happened. If he was lucky, he might not see any of them ever again lest they believe he had offered himself to this fate in order to avoid the brutal labor that awaited them out in the minotaur fields. All he could do was move forward. Unfortunately, that meant stepping in the wake of the imposing bulk of Rojo. The bull had disregarded his loincloth, now walking openly nude among his people. It puzzled Adrian and he wrinkled his nose at the earthy stench of sweat that billowed from the thick beast leading him. He had little to do but look at the ground up at the dusty rump a foot ahead of him. He opted to gape at Rojo’s ass. Rather than thick muscle buried under the fuzzy hide, Rojo had rolls of pudge jostling and swaying with each step. He was certainly more round than most of the hardened steers that they passed. If nothing else, it appeared his new owner that ate well which meant Adrian might get good scraps from the dinner table.

“Get inside my tent.” Rojo said, ripping the chains keeping Adrian wrists leashed together as though they were paper. “Then we can prepare.”

“Prepare for what?” Adrian asked, ducking through the folded cloth draped across the entrance.

“You are a slave.” He stated. “I’ll happily admit that claiming you from Gotro was a selfish victory, but you are better off here than under the mercy of the whip. I deserve proper recompense, don’t I?”

It was hard to deny the home of the son of a chief had it’s own barbaric comforts. The interior of the yurt was large and extravagant. The walls offered shelter underneath countless trophies and animal parts the chief no doubt had slain. A massive bow was laid out across a nearby table; a fletching station where arrows as long as both of Adrian’s arms were made. In the rear center of the room was a massive round bed where furs and sheets were laid out. The whole place stunk of the young minotaur.

Adrian felt the heat of the bull suddenly behind him. He turned, bumping into the beast’s immense belly as he did so. He did not retreat, however. Instead, he stuck his lithe chest out and lifted his face to meet the strong gaze of the bull. “I meant what I said out there. I do not accept this.”

The minotaurs snout kept twisting in a nefarious grin. “I care not. Nor do my kin. They do, however, have right to crush you under hoof if you show such blatant disrespect.”

“Then why aren’t you following their example?”

“It arouses me to hear you speak so confidently. A broken, whimpering pet is a blight upon my bed. I seek something stronger and saw you. You can withstand this fate, I trust?”

Adrian narrowed his eyes. He glanced at the large pile of furs and pillows, his eyes darting back towards the curtain he had passed through. Running out of spite was likely to earn him the abuse he might have otherwise been promised, but if Rojo spoke true the worst of this life would spin and twist with small tasks and dawdling affection. 

“Or am I a burden too large to bear, human? Else I’ll have this headache from Gotro for no reason.” Rojo said, releasing a deep chuckle.

It was impossible not to hesitate. After all, the creature before him could snap him in two. There was an allure in that kind of strength, repressed into a gentle and doting affection. Adrian’s hand pressed against the bull’s thick belly, sweeping along the broad paunch to feel the sweat stained fur and the chubby hide underneath. The human circled his hand around the deep navel and said, “I expect there are rules I have to follow?”

A hard rumble rolled through the bull’s torso. The thick cock rolled out of the bunched up skin where it slept, flexing with power and drive. “Out in the village, yes. Here in my shadow; none but my hearts desire. Easy enough to sate and doubtful to harm you terribly.”

Adrian dipped his free hand under the hanging droop of the minotaur’s gut, filling his palm with the engorged shaft. The heat from it was appalling, worse than the vicious sun he had been baking under. He stepped closer, pressing his chest into the furry stomach. He practically sank into the flabby surface, like a mound of half baked dough. “I’m not going to get any trouble from anyone in your tribe for this, am I?”

Rojo laughed, making the whole bowl of muscle and fat jostle. “Only if you start smelling different than me. You’ll need to wear my scent like a winter coat if you don’t wish Gotro or any other upstart to believe I’ve grown tired of you. Else they might try to stake a claim.”

Adrian’s nostrils flared. He was already stifled by the moist, earthy stench of the bull. Now he had to douse himself in this beast’s sweat? “If this a joke you’re playing on me, I’ll poison your stew.”

The bull’s huge arm wrapped around Adrian, pulling him along as Rojo sat himself down onto the pile of furs. “Perhaps you will think different in a week? This is how I can keep you safe and mine in the eyes of the tribe.” He lifted both of his massive arms, exposing the wet crevices underneath and radiating a musky heat all around him. “Time may prove to convince you. Obey me and I will court you as best a chief can. Lavish me with your small hands and sweet lips and I will be your slave.”

“This is slavery with pretty words and fake comfort, you oaf. No need to dress it up as anything but that which it is.” The same could be said for the arousal could sense building with each heady breath he took. His eyes took in the sight of the obese creature that now owned him and understood this was a tactic he cold perhaps one day use to escape. Take advantage of the peculiar comfort of this position he was now forced into. Yet, he didn’t feel an obligation to indulge, merely the simple want to lean a little deeper, let the blubbery sides of the minotaur’s armpit settle and clamp over his face. After all, he wouldn’t feel like a slave if he took his own initiative. So long as it made Rojo hard and satisfied, better for both of them.

The human placed his palms on the heavy hide that sagged down onto the bed of furs, pressing himself forward towards the hot curve of the bull’s underarm. “The stench I can bear. The soft lump you carry,” Adrian seized a harsh grip on the stud’s meaty side, jiggling the slab of pudge vigorously. “Doubly so. The taste; we shall have to see.”

The minotaur chuckled and sat back, flexing his arms behind his head and spreading the ripe pit of sweat before his human. Adrian braced himself under the shadow of the thick  muscles and nosed deep into the hairy gap. The slick surface slid along his cheek and he nuzzled hard into the hanging fold on either side, nose and mouth nestled hard into the damp bottom of the bull’s underarm. The pungent odor and swelling heat quickly made Adrian’s head spin. Yet, he reveled in the act. His lips parted slightly, taking time to nip and rub along with the slightest bit of caution. Steady, deep breaths; the smell was stronger than any other man Adrian had taken in. He opened his mouth, eager to feel the feel weight of his surroundings close down over him as he lapped the flat of his tongue against Rojo’s armpit and swept it up to the minotaur’s bicep.

“What a beauty you are. Accept this as your home and hearth. Under there burns the fire that will keep you safe from storm and cruel folk alike.” Rojo muttered ceremoniously.

The sweat piled onto the boy’s tongue and he shivered at the bitter taste of salt and dust. Yet, the raw odor of this powerful beast pressed him onward to give in, submit to the bull, become a thing that other’s of his tribe would grow jealous over; like a extravagant tapestry or luscious animal skin. He reveled at the thought of being desired. A possession didn’t have the notoriety to busy oneself in the petty politics of things that were already out of its control. The village was as prisoner to the human nobles than it was to the minotaur tribe that raided them. Here, at least, Adrian might serve with a spiteful delight towards those who so often cast him out. All this, of course, was only in the heat of the stud’s underarm. The human reassured himself this was merely a fantasy to engross and immerse him in the wheels of pleasure that he and Rojo were turning.

A thick hand clasped the back of Adrian’s head, pushing his face deep into the damp crevice. Adrian grunted at the slimy sensation of short, wet hairs scratching over his skin. He began to lick with aimless passion. His mouth was agape and catching all the drops of excess perspiration that continued to build and run down the immense bicep that was raised overhead. 

“All mine. The chiefs of ages past must be writhing out of jealousy.” Rojo said with a dismissive chuckle, dragging the human slave’s head out from under his armpit and across his chest. His other hand hoisted Adrian up by his pants, plopping him down on the minotaurs wide lap and stuffed hi under the second prison beneath his left arm. He laid the lithe captive across his belly, sprawled over and clinging in the odd position as he was manhandled. The bull’s mitts were now exploring Adrian’s body, seeking his tender spots and the triggers that might make the lad squeal under him. Adrian, however, sought more than just the musky crevice of Rojo’s armpit. 

The two plump mounds that peaked the bull’s chest were tipped with wide, fleshy tips. He brought his mouth over one, tracing the edges of the soft nipple with his tongue before drawing it into his mouth. The act drew a surprised groan out of Rojo’s snout. Adrian could feel the hot and turgid length of the minotaur’s shaft springing to life with each powerful throb. The delicate fingers clasped the plush and sagging pectoral, squeezing it as Adrian’s teeth chewed on the warm teat and tightening the grip of his lips until he was suckling with as much force as he could muster. The rhythm was slow and decisive, intent on drawing out this moment to ensure Rojo knew that this prize knew its way around the male form.

“Meet my lips, slave.” Rojo groaned and suddenly gave a sharp cry once he felt the pinch of the human’s blunt teeth on his chubby breast.

Adrian lifted his head, digging his palms into the hairy bulk underneath his dainty frame. “Call me slave out there if you want.” He steadied himself, reaching up to dig his fingernails into the bull’s jowls and clutch at his fur, bringing his face close to the immense snout and thick lips. “Inside this place you’ll keep my name free and unrestrained.”

The minotaur’s mouth spread in a long smile and his lower lip drooped as it brushed against the human’s cheek. “Now I know I have saved your life. Gotro would have you flayed before night’s fall with talk like that.”

“Don’t underestimate what you asked for.” Adrian straddled the fat gut beneath him, leaning into the motions of Rojo’s huge hands that now removed what garments remained on Adrian’s frame.

“I shall not. I’ll keep you free under my yurt and within my arms.”

The leash around Adrian’s neck was pushed aside, curled around the minotaurs forearm. “Until I escape you and your kin.” 

Rojo brought his heavy palm up and smacked it across the skinny rump cushioned atop his belly. “Until you fail to sate me.”

The hot breath of the bull was swallowed in the boy’s mouth as he tucked his lips into the curve of the minotaur’s own. The loose lower lip sagged as Adrian nipped and led his tongue along the inner curl of the oddly shaped snout, tasting Rojo’s saliva for the first time. The drool carried a smoky taste. The chief’s son no doubt enjoyed a pipe and the discolored teeth were another sign of the habit. 

Adrian felt his lips become invaded by the minotaur’s thick tongue in one swift thrust. He grunted in surprise, finally sensing Rojo was now enticed enough to participate rather than be doted on. The human’s efforts were quickly moot in the wake of the powerful, saliva soaked muscle began to slip in and away from the smaller mouth. The wet slide of immense organ gave Adrian little choice other than to redouble his efforts as he tried to accommodate the bull’s strong affection. He moaned around the tongue, sucking the drool from its slick surface and trying to draw more of its length down into his throat. A well placed moan seemed to excite the bull even more as he began to tuck his thick fingers along the crease of Adrian’s ass.

It was never good to be idle. The act of sex was a difficult push and pull of power, Adrian had learned. He knew he would rarely pull one over on the minotaur but he knew he was as much in control as the bull. His fingers rose to the minotaur’s ears and stroked along their length, spitting out the tongue and pushing his lips into the sagging lower lip and chin, mashing his kisses into the scratchy hairs and loose muscle under Rojo’s snout. Words were no longer required. They both understood their role in this. 

The smooth skin of the human writhed atop the rough, leathery hide of the broad belly of the bull. The dainty hands dug into the thick breasts, pulling at the coarse hair and taking large handfuls of the plump mounds. The dark nipples were as big as his palm. Adrian raised his hips against the caress of his owner’s hands. The brute’s strength was reserved only for claiming property. Here he was as gentle as a child with a delicate new toy.

The human’s rear slid further and further down the sloping hill of blubbery hide, meeting the navel as the boy swallowed a long inch of the steer’s tongue. He did so gracefully, eyes darkening as his thin hips met the edge of the immense gut. The erect cock jutting up from the wobbling stomach was strong and appalling powerful. One throb clapped the heavy rod against the bare rump of the young slave as he descended. Adrian laid flat on the warm bed of sweaty slab of fat. Rojo’s hands steadied the lad as his ass began to rub along the tip of the minotaur’s cock, finding the right angle to slip the head between those tight cheeks. The bull reached over to his bedside and poured oil into his meaty hand, clapping the drenched digits along the boy’s butt and lubing up his manhood.

Adrian’s gasped at the probing fingers and dismissive nature of the bull’s libido. The human obliged this cruel fate, his heart hammering against his chest as they worked the tip of his master’s cock into the tight embrace of his pucker.

The struggle was a ritual they both learned to consecrate. Rojo restrained his urge to simply force his cock into the heavenly depths of the human and Adrian turned his painful groans into punctual whines of lust that only made Rojo all the more eager to break him in. Adrian tucked his legs into the warm space between the bull’s massive thighs, arms spreading around the minotaur’s belly as he felt his hole struggle to accept the role as willing slave as easily as Adrian had. 

The triumph they both felt when the human’s asshole finally relented and submitted to the hard girth that sought to claim it was like ambrosia. Adrian rose from the bull’s chest, slathered in sweat, and began the long labor of testing the waters of how far the bull could plumb his depths. His own cock was mashed against the steer’s underbelly, ever tended to by the wobbling tide of heft and fat that surrounded it. Adrian lifted his head, trembling at Rojo’s touch as he drew his palm against the human’s thin frame, gripping him and guiding his motions to better accommodate the minotaur’s wants and desires.

The tent became a humid place. Ripe sweat and desperate noises of sex gave rise to those who still had slaves to doll out and game to skin and prepare for the feast tonight. All among the tribe knew the chief’s son had claimed his rightful prize of the hoard they had taken and only a handful truly understood the value of such a precious commodity. When Rojo finally released his orgasm it was a bellow that all could hear, but few might have noticed the soft, high pitched shout that accompanied it. Such a sound, a noise of ecstasy from human lips, was unheard of.