(Fantasy, CentaurXBarbarian, Hetero vaginal, large insert)

She walked into the forest with a hunk of wild pig over her shoulder, and a look of consternation on her face. Odal had a problem. To put it in simple terms, she was useless.

Sure she could scrounge up a little food, but any barbarian worth their axe could drop a wild hog. The real proof of worth was on the battlefield, where her brothers and sisters cut into any enemy they could find. Just the week prior they brought back an ogre’s head. They had a huge feast to celebrate, but Odal was too depressed to eat… as much as usual.

She dropped her meat near a tree to find a bush to relieve herself, and noticed some hoofprints that had come through the area. It made her pause, but she shrugged it off.

Odal wasn’t as strong as her kin, not even as tough as Loose Arms Bolarm. She was tall, but a little round in the middle, no matter how much work she did. Her mother said it was because she ate so much, but she didn’t believe it. She was just trying to keep up with the crowd during the feast, and everyone always seemed excited when she won sausage eating contests. That’s how she earned more than her fair share of pelts and braids, which now adorned her leather top or hung off her loin cloth.

She returned to her meat, sure that there was something she could do to prove her worth. It hurt to remember some of the remarks, how she was less than the dogs in the camp, and couldn’t take anything for the tribe but her neighbor’s meal. It wasn’t a barbarian’s place to cry, but her face felt hot with emotion.

A twig snapped, and she heard a snort. Odal turned and saw that her dinner catch had attracted unwanted attention. Four hooves, two arms, and nearly half a man taller than her. It was a centaur. They were dark skinned, and despite having tribes and clans of their own, they made her brothers seem like city-living riverfolk in comparison.

She thought at first he wouldn’t notice her, his eyes focused on her perched food. She forgot to hide it, or hang it. Instead it was propped up against a tree like a snack for bears. Odal felt like an idiot, but the bow over the centaur’s back told her she didn’t have time to worry about that. The centaur were their enemy. When her brothers moved into the nearby plains, centaur began to raid them once or twice a month. 

Odal took one step back, and the centaur’s eyes shot to her. She pulled at her axe tied to her side, and got it ready with shaking fingers. She would fight if she had to. 

The centaur took heavy steps forward, his expression like he was looking at a lost child. His arms crossed in front of him instead of pulling up his bow. Was this her chance to strike? He was underestimating her. 

A chiseled chin, short black hair, sharp eyes. Odal had never heard of a handsome centaur. She shook the thought away, and managed to lose her grip on her axe. Her eyes opened in shock, and before she could recover, her axe fell to the ground.

She heard fast hooves, and she thought of grabbing for the axe, or defending her body from an attack, or running. Instead she froze up, twisting up in a recoil.

There was a huffing noise, and she looked up to see the centaur, smiling. He was laughing at her? Her face was really burning now. He moved over, grabbed the leg of her wild hog.

“Mine,” He grunted. 

“What?” She said loudly, “My kill!”

He looked over his shoulder at her, giving her another peek of his shaped chest. She looked away. Between that handsome face, and her own failures, she couldn’t look him in the eye.

Then she saw something else. She had never thought about a centaur’s… manhood. Now she was faced with the fact of it, hanging between the centaur’s legs as he picked up the meat and sniffed it. It hung there, thick, but not that long. 

She was no stranger to what a human man could do, but seeing the girth this centaur carried creating unfair images in her mind. Was that even possible? Their women were lucky, to say the least. To have something that large, the sensation would be magical.

The centaur looked at her again, and Odal looked into his eyes. Did he see where she was looking? She blushed, but the centaur didn’t turn away. His front hoof counted in the dirt, and he pulled his chest forward in pride.

“Fine,” She said, “Keep it. I’ll get another.”

She walked around him, keeping a good distance, and headed for a stream within eyesight. The sun was high, it was warm out, and she worked hard today. With the warmth the centaur was creating in other areas, she could use a cool dip in the water.

Odal stepped into the stream, and untied her loincloth. Leaving it on the bank, she stepped in, feeling the water run over her legs. It was a liquid breeze, making her sigh with relief as she took cups of water in her hands and ran them over her thighs. As her fingers ran over her shapely legs, she savored every cool droplet as it dribbled down.

She took a cup and ran it into her rough triangle, and a chill ran down her spine, her eyes closing in wanting. She had to remember he was still there. Her fingers lingered in her lady hairs, circling the area as if they were lost and waiting for further orders. Why had that simple glimpse affected her so much? 

Odal bit her lip. She knew the answer, she had always been a colorful girl. When it came to intimate matters, she enjoyed learning flat on her back. A finger teased her little secret, and her thick thighs squeezed together in anticipation of an action she didn’t want to take. Despite herself, she slid a finger along her lower lips, enjoyed the stomach-prickling sensation as she worked along the length. It helped when her eyes were closed, when she imagined his size.

The stomp of hooves made her wake up from her daydream. She looked over her shoulder and saw that the centaur was still there, the hog now dropped in the dirt. He was watching her, intently.

Was he interested? Did centaur like human women like her? If he was smart, he would go after one of her sisters, big, strong, covered in muscles, a real barbarian girl. Not Two-Servings Odal.

But he was here, and looking at her. She smiled to herself, and leaned forward at the waist. As best she could, she dipped her head toward the water, her ass swinging in the air as she cupped both of her hands in the moving stream and ran them over her arm. The cold air blew onto her sensitive places, it made her want this to work that much more.

She looked between her legs, and saw him take a step into the stream. Still, he looked hesitant.

Odal reached back and loosened her top. It required some doing, as her top needed a time or two around to contain her sizely assets. They made it hard for her to run, hard to use a shortbow, and when her nipples got as hard as they were now it was hard to wear anything at all. So she discarded the top with a toss, and took up two more cups of cool water. She turned more toward the centaur, and let the water cascade down her body. Tiny rivers washed over her skin, and she could see her round breasts glistening in the sunlight. At times like this, she enjoyed how she looked, how she felt under her fingers.

She squeezed one of her nipples between her thumb and forefinger, and a soft moan escaped her lips. 

There was a set of splashes, and Odal opened her eyes to see the centaur moving toward her. At first she planned to put him in a bad position. Centaurs couldn’t fight well in water, at least she thought she heard that somewhere. It was probably the uneven rocks on the bed, it made them uneven on their hooves.

Now, she had a different idea. As he walked toward her, she could see it swinging between his legs, longer than ever, a thick instrument of his animalistic lust.

“You,” He grunted, “Stay.”

Her nerve broke, and Odal headed for the opposite shore. She got on land and walked a few steps before turning back. He was still coming, watching her the whole time.

“Woman,” He said, “Stop.”

“Not for you, animal,” She said, but she couldn’t even convince herself. 

“We have fun,” He said with his nose in the air. 

Odal walked away as he took his first steps out of the water again, but she stopped as she got close to a thick oak tree. A hand held the bark, while another covered her chest.

He walked up to her, his manhood loose, his eyes scanning over Odal. He stood above her, smiling, confident. 

“You want?” He asked.

She was a terrible liar. Her body couldn’t even deceive him. Her thighs shifted, her arm covering her chest fell to her sides. She felt wet, vulnerable, and needy. A part of her felt ashamed. She was trying to contain herself so she didn’t jump on a centaur man’s throbbing cock. Another part of her felt frustrated, and wanted.

“Turn,” He said with a circling motion of his arms.

“Do what?” She asked, “Who says I want to do any-”

“Turn.” He repeated.

Odal looked down at the ground. Her legs were so tense, her hand was gripping her thigh. Even if she escaped this without falling in front of this centaur, wouldn’t she just pick her own berries behind a tree before she went back home?

She closed her eyes, and made her decision.

Odal turned and faced the tree.

She could feel him move closer, and felt hands grip hers. His fingers were rough, and moved down her arms, to her sides. He had just enough leverage to grab her breasts from behind. He massaged them, rough strokes that made her wince before she let out small sighs of relief. It felt good, but it wasn’t tender. 

Then he forced her head down, and while at first she didn’t understand, she realized that her body was far from his searching member. She slid her body down the tree, pushing her rear further and further back, until she felt a warm object touch the back of her knee.

She swallowed.

“Breath,” He said, something in his tone seemed playful.

His horse-legs came around her shoulders, reared up enough that they braced against the tree in front of her. Then she felt it, thick like rolled up leather, but giving off a strange heat.

One of her hands went between her legs, touching the tip of it. The head was strange, flat, but rounded at the edges. She didn’t dare to test its texture, and guided it as he moved forward. 

It hurt as it started, and she took his advice. She let out a long breath, and took one in, feeling her body spread as the giant object forced its way into her. She moved backwards against it, moving it further, the length expanding to fill her up completely inside. It was like having an arm inside her, so large and so alive, shifting and hot. It kept going, moved deeper, and with every inch she felt a powerful force building inside her. When it reached her peak, she squealed like an animal, and her eyes went wide.

There was no more space to fill, he had all of her. 

She didn’t have time to feel relief. He bucked forward, and her whole body was shaken by the impact. It ran through her body, and struck against her deepest places. It was a stunning sensation, but also satisfying. She gave a trembling breath, then he struck again. He was up against her, she could feel the heat of his body on her back, could hear him grunting above her.

“Softer,” She whispered, “Too much.”

He thrust again and she almost fell over. He was breaking her, her knees were wobbling with pleasure, her insides were sore as they quivered around him. She didn’t know how much of this she could take, before she passed out, or before she came.

Another thrust, and her whole body squeezed around him. Her breathing was coming in erratic panting, her fingers bit into the tree bark, her knees tried to meet around his swelling trunk. She was going to fall, in front of this raging beast, and she had no idea what came after that. It made her head hazy, her mouth hung open. 

“Yes,” He grunted in his own tongue, but she knew the word, “Yes.”

He pushed into her again, and Odal cried out. It was rubbing every part of her, she could feel it throughout her body, and it was so pleasantly deep.

“By boar, you’re ruining me,” She gasped.

But she could feel something about him changing, there was a heat inside her, his manhood was shivering. Was he going to do that in her as well? 

He pushed into her one last time, and she knew he was finished, could feel him stay deep in her, pushed to her tip. Then he burst within her, hot waves of seed that rippled through her and came splashing down her legs immediately. The sensation, the feeling of his love sliding down her, filling every empty space it could find, it was more than she could take.

“Oh fuck,” She whispered as he knees wobbled, and her back went straight. 

The centaur pulled out of her, and Odal fell to her knees. There was no way she could keep standing. 

He backed away from her, and they both caught their breath, both looked away from each other. So was he not proud of it either? He seemed excited enough to bed her though, and that brought a tired grin to her face.

Their eyes met, and she grinned.

“Stifftree,” He said, pointing to himself.

His name, it had to be. “Odal,” she replied.

He wasn’t that bad, he didn’t seem violent. Maybe their fighting was a misunderstanding? She hadn’t heard of anyone sitting down and talking with a centaur before, not even long enough to bend over and take one of their steaming hot loads.

She looked down and saw the puddle of white liquid beneath her, it was still hot. Just looking at it made her heart flutter.

Would any of her sisters have braved that? She didn’t think so. For her part, she was thinking of going back for seconds.

Maybe this was something she could do, a part that she could serve, like a barbarian.

“You know your chief?” She asked.

Stifftree looked down at her and nodded as an idle hoof counted in the dirt.

“Can he talk to our chief?” She asked, putting both hands on her bare chest.

He seemed to think about this, his face locked in concentration. 

“Maybe, just Odal,” He suggested.

She made a show of thinking about it. It was a bad plan, but it was a start. She nodded, she could figure out the details later. First, an itch in her body gave her a different priority.

Odal crawled over and gripped his half-flaccid member. It twitched at her touch, started to slide up to meet her hands.

She wasn’t known as Two-Servings Odal for nothing.