Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2687972.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Blaine_Anderson/Kurt_Hummel, Kurt_Hummel/Other(s)
  Character:
      Kurt_Hummel, Sebastian_Smythe
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Fairy_Tale, Fauns_&_Satyrs, Tentacle_Monsters,
      Selkies, Centaurs, Body_Modification, Body_Horror, Mpreg, Captivity,
      Kidnapping, Feminization, Lactation_Kink
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-11-29 Updated: 2015-02-23 Chapters: 3/? Words: 12574
****** And Home Before Dark ******
by onlyapapermoon
Summary
     The woods are known for their dangers, but it's the doing of a rival
     closer to home when Kurt is kidnapped on the eve of his wedding to
     Prince Blaine. Enchanted and trapped in a lonely cabin, he is forced
     to bear the progeny of the woods' magical creatures.
Notes
     From a Glee Kink Meme prompt (http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/
     48822.html?thread=63557814#t63557814), although it wound up going on
     a bit of a tangent.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Like all children growing up in the palace, Kurt had been warned to stay away
from the woods. Adults went into the woods sometimes, hunters and woodcutters
and those gathering herbs, but they always took care to make little offerings
to the woods’ denizens before they set out, lest they be gored by a boar or
struck by their own axe or poisoned by some well-hidden nightshade. Even the
knights venturing out said long good-byes to their loved ones before they went
into the woods to deal with some marauding creature, just in case.

Even with those concerns in mind, though, Kurt had a fairly happy childhood.
There was a long lonely period after his mother died, when his father, the
stablemaster, was suddenly all he had in the world, but with the years he began
to make friends and he began to be happy again. There were darker days too, of
course, when he dealt with the lingering sadness from his mother’s loss, or
when some of the other children decided he was too odd and feminine for a boy,
and would chase him through the halls until he found a place to hide from them.
His friends did what they could about both problems, even when it wasn’t much,
and he appreciated it greatly. He was sure he only learned what true happiness
was, though, when he met the prince in his fourteenth year.

Prince Blaine was the younger brother of the Crown Prince, Cooper, so he’d
spent years fostering at the homes of various great knights of the realm, and
only came back to the palace when he was on the cusp of manhood. Kurt’s meeting
with him had been by chance, when Kurt was running from his bullies and
happened to duck into the alcove where Prince Blaine had hidden from his older
brother. The resultant noisy collision of the bullies and Crown Prince Cooper
outside had forestalled speech for a time, but the conversation Kurt and Prince
Blaine carried on with expressions alone was enough to have them both in
hysterics and plant the seeds of friendship.

As the years passed, that friendship grew and flowered into something more, so
that by his sixteenth birthday, Prince Blaine had gotten his parents’ grudging
permission to court Kurt, common as he was by birth. The court as a whole was
not as surprised as they might have been, since most were under the impression
that the two young men were already courting by that time. Many of the noble
families did take the choice of a commoner as a snub, but the younger
generation tended to think it romantic and the elders slowly came to accept the
situation.

There were those who objected, though.
Kurt had always been wary of the young noble Sebastian, partly because of his
unrepentant flirtation with the Prince, but mostly because there was something
about him Kurt couldn’t describe, something that stirred memories of his
youthful terror of the woods. Sebastian’s objections to Prince Blaine’s choice
of Kurt had been loud and pointed right up until a wedding date was announced,
after which he fell silent. When Kurt voiced his concerns, Prince Blaine
furrowed his brow, but assured him it was probably just that Sebastian finally
realized he’d lost. Reluctantly, Kurt let it rest, in favor of concentrating on
wedding plans with his love.

A few nights before the wedding, Kurt awoke to a scratching at his window.
Before he could do more than blink sleepily, the windowpane shattered inward
and some large black shape dove into the room. He screamed, covering the sound
of another smash of glass. After that, he knew nothing.

After the second day of frenzied searching for the Prince’s missing fiancée,
one of the palace guards admitted that she’d either seen or dreamed that night
a giant bird flying off towards the woods, something dangling in its claws.

As for Kurt, he awoke again the morning after his kidnapping to an unfamiliar
room. He took in a sharp breath and his eyes darted around, assessing it for
any signs of danger. It looked like a cozy little cabin, with a single room
holding a table with two chairs, a plushly padded rocking chair in the corner,
what looked like a crib, and a few trunks and cabinets. He cautiously rose from
the bed and padded around the room, breathing as steadily as he could when he
noticed that every view from the windows showed nothing but thick tree trunks
in all directions. He was somewhere in the woods.

There was no fireplace to provide a poker for defense, so Kurt grabbed the
broom resting by the door and tried the doorknob. It didn’t budge. Kurt bit his
lip and looked around again. He’d just moved to the nearest window with the
intent of breaking it – he didn’t know what was going on, but he was determined
to escape before his captor returned – when the door swung open and a familiar
voice spoke.

“Don’t bother, they’re unbreakable.”

Kurt swung around with the broom at the ready, but it was yanked from his grip
and used to shove him a step backwards, away from Sebastian, who stood there
with a smirk.

“You!” Kurt hissed, clenching his fists.

Sebastian just looked amused and casually tossed the broom behind him, easily
sidestepping in front of it when Kurt made to grab for it again. “Me. Aw, did
you expect Prince Charming to show up for a surprise elopement?”

That stung, but Kurt refused to show Sebastian was getting to him, despite the
sharp reminder that he’d been taken away from Prince Blaine so soon before
their wedding. “Let me go,” Kurt demanded fiercely instead, drawing himself up.
“If you're the one who brought me here, then release me now, and I might not
push for you to be beheaded.”

Sebastian just let out a braying laugh, and Kurt soothed himself for a moment
by imagining him sprouting donkey ears. “Nice try,” Sebastian said, pretending
to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes, “really, great try, but you’re stuck here
for a good long time. By the way, have you noticed anything different… lady?”

Kurt just rolled his eyes at the familiar insult, but it called attention to
something that had been nagging at him. Something felt… different between his
legs. He subtly shifted in a way that would normally have made his limp cock
brush his thigh under the loose nightshirt, but there was nothing there.
Sebastian looked viciously smug, apparently pleased at the sudden whiteness of
Kurt’s face. “I just wanted to see your face when you realized, but I have to
be getting back to the castle now - you know, the place you're never going to
see again." Sebastian was backing toward the door before Kurt could do
anything. The door slammed behind him with a final sound, leaving the room
echoing with his parting shot of, "Have fun tonight, princess! I hear it’s the
satyrs’ turn first, hope you don’t mind men with a bit of hair.”

Too stunned to move, Kurt finally dropped a hand to his crotch, feeling around
as if his hand was about to be burned. Sure enough, the bulge he was used to
was gone, replaced by a much smaller soft mound with a divide down the middle.
He couldn’t process the reality of it for a good long time, but when it came
crashing down, Kurt slid boneless to the floor in shock and let himself
hyperventilate, then sob raggedly as the loss set in.

Over the course of the day, Kurt made more discoveries, with varying degrees of
unwelcomeness. The loss of his cock was not the only change to his body – the
mirror in a corner showed that his once-slim hips had widened a couple of
inches, giving his body almost an hourglass shape that he gaped at, unable to
accept for most of the day. Once he was up to exploring, he found that the
cabinets were full of odd things, soft blankets and baby toys, but nothing that
could be used as a weapon. One of the trunks was obviously magical, since every
time he opened it, a variety of food appeared inside, and experimentation
showed he could wish for whatever food he wanted, unless it was poison. There
were bound books on the shelves, most along the theme of caring for an infant.
Kurt was beginning to get a bad feeling about the implications of the furniture
and resources he’d been provided.
Eventually, Kurt ran out of ideas for how to escape, and he let himself
collapse onto the bed in exhaustion after trying one last time to break a
window or force the door.

The shadows cast by moonlight through the windows had shifted a few feet by the
time Kurt awoke again. He found himself rising from the bed and shedding his
nightshirt carelessly, padding naked across the floor. For some reason, it
didn’t strike him as odd when the door opened easily at his touch. He walked
thoughtlessly through the doorway and out into the woods, following some path
of moonlight as he wove between the thick trunks of ancient trees.
Some undistinguishable time later, Kurt’s steps had led him into a clearing,
and he stopped in the middle. Soft grass was underfoot, and tiny white flowers
in the trees released a light perfume for nighttime insects and bats.

As Kurt stood there in the center of the open space under the stars, the fog
lifted from his mind and he stared around wildly, suddenly wary of whatever was
about to befall him now.

“Well, look at you,” a voice said.

Kurt whipped around to look and was stunned. The speaker was just entering the
clearing, making a soft clopping sound as he walked, and it was his looks that
made Kurt stare. He looked like a mostly normal man from the waist up, though
with the exception of horns and hairy ears sprouting from his wild curly hair –
but from the waist down, he had the hind legs and very exposed genitals of a
goat.

Kurt blushed and took an involuntary step back at the lecherous look he was
receiving. Still, even as the goat-man, the satyr, trotted closer, Kurt found
himself completely lacking the urge to run, or to fight. He was given no time
to ponder the strange absence, though, because the satyr quickly wrapped his
arms around Kurt’s waist and drew him close.

Kurt did struggle then, pushing at the satyr’s shoulders in a vain attempt to
create some space between them, but no matter what he did, he could still feel
the stiff, thin cock poking all too intimately against his belly and a pair of
heavy balls brushing at the front of his upper thighs. "No," Kurt tried saying,
"let go!"

“Oh, you’re a pretty little thing,” the satyr was saying, grinning as he looked
Kurt up and down from the close range, grinding his dick harder into Kurt’s
stomach. “When I tell my brothers about this, they’ll be even more eager to
meet you.”

Kurt struggled harder at that, switching to pleas of, “Just let me go, please,
I don’t want to be here!”

The satyr ignored him, except to chuckle, “Don’t worry, sweet thing, I’m going
to take very good care of you this night!”
“No,” Kurt tried to protest, “I don’t-“

He was cut off by the satyr pressing a kiss to his mouth. The satyr’s lips
caressed Kurt’s, and the satyr dipped his tongue inside for just a moment
before withdrawing. It was far from being Kurt’s first kiss; he and the prince
had snuck away often enough to exchange kisses more heated than the satyr’s had
been, but the forced intimacy of it made tears prick at Kurt’s eyes.

“Please,” he tried one last time, feeling his hopes of release dwindling. The
satyr lowered him to the ground, though, and paid no heed to his struggles.

“Spread your legs, pretty one,” the satyr urged him as he laid down heavily on
top of Kurt and pinned him down, furry goat legs slotting between Kurt’s thighs
and forcing them apart. The satyr’s cock was even more evident in this position
where it nudged at the split between Kurt’s legs, setting up tingles in
unfamiliar nerves. “There, that’s it.”

Kurt kicked his legs helplessly on either side of the creature nestled between
them, chafing the insides of his thighs on rough goat fur, but he couldn’t stop
the satyr from pulling back just enough to reach down with one hand and line
himself up. Even the small amount of freedom wasn't enough for Kurt to escape,
since the satyr just lowered himself back down and pinned him again.

There was a poking, then a nudging, then a piercing pain in the new place
between Kurt’s legs, and Kurt felt his whole body seize up with it as the satyr
sank inside.

“Oh,” the satyr was panting, eyes closed and mouth dropping open. “oh, that’s
it, that’s – oh you are a sweet thing, yes, so tight…”

Kurt heard himself give a little gasping sob, but the satyr was already
beginning to move, churning his hips to force his cock in and out within Kurt’s
body, dragging against the tense inner walls and opening with each movement.

The soft grass rubbed against Kurt's back as his body was jolted rhythmically.
Within moments, the satyr’s hips were moving faster than Kurt would have
thought possible, hammering his cock into Kurt’s insides. The strangeness of
the feeling made it hard for Kurt to concentrate, but he tried to wriggle out
from under the satyr all the same. The satyr simply grinned, though, teeth
bright like a crescent moon in the night, and reached down to grab Kurt's hips
and haul him back down onto his relentlessly-moving cock. Kurt gasped and the
satyr seemed to take that as encouragement, pounding in even harder. Each time
Kurt tried to squirm away, the satyr redoubled his efforts with inhuman vigor,
until Kurt stopped trying. After a time, with Kurt lying limp under the satyr's
weight, his body practically vibrating with the pace of the thrusts, he found
that the jolting of the cock inside him ceased to be painful or even
uncomfortable, though it was still indescribably odd.
Kurt was by then staring up at the stars above with glassy eyes, so he didn’t
notice at first when the satyr let go of a hip and reached down between them
with one hand. He did notice, though, when the satyr’s calloused fingertips
touched him just above where they were joined. Kurt gave a little jump and the
satyr chuckled breathlessly, his fingers roaming over dampened skin for a
moment before he seemingly found what he was looking for. “I told you that I
would take care of you, did I not?” the satyr reminded him.
Something ticklishly warm sparked through Kurt’s body, and he felt his hips
actually jerk towards the intruding cock. The pressure and friction inside were
still odd, but suddenly seemed almost pleasurable, if he ignored everything
else about the situation. He stared at the satyr, stunned, but the satyr was
just smiling proudly, his eyes dark. The satyr set about rubbing with a will,
his fingertips circling and caressing, diving into the hot divide below and
dragging moisture up and over the flesh that seemed to make a liquid pleasure
seep through Kurt’s lower body, while still jackhammering away with his hips.
Soon, to his shame, Kurt was gasping for air and writhing on the grass of the
clearing, no longer certain if he was trying to escape or move closer to the
satyr atop him.

“Oh, ah, yes,” the satyr panted, his movements speeding up and sending sparks
along Kurt’s nerves. “You feel gorgeous, so tight and wet, pretty thing, go
ahead, finish for me.” The satyr probably said more, but something was building
inside Kurt, winding up tight and hot in his belly until the pleasure crested
and washed over him, sending numbing tingles to every part of his body and
driving awareness from his mind.

Kurt was vaguely aware of the satyr’s hips pumping more furiously before and
then jerking to a halt, but he barely heard the satyr’s groan of pleasure,
still deafened by the ringing in his ears from his own climax. For a moment,
the only sound in the clearing was both of their loud panting breaths.

And then, the satyr simply pulled out without ceremony and rose to his hooves,
shaking his hips for a second like a dog drying off. He left Kurt spread out on
the ground, suddenly chilled by the night air on his naked wet skin. The satyr
stretched, then trotted to the center of the clearing, where he muttered a few
words in a language Kurt couldn’t recognize. As the words were uttered, Kurt
felt his mind fogging over as it had when he’d first woken that night, and he
rose to his feet as if pulled by invisible hands. The satyr gave Kurt one last
fond look, then disappeared back into the darkness of the surrounding trees.

The clearing that had looked so tranquil before was still again quiet save for
the low buzz of insects and the occasional croak of a frog or piercing cry of a
night-hunting bird. Kurt felt his feet begin to take him back into the woods
again, between the trees with their gossiping leaves and the occasional dead
branch reaching out like a skeletal hand. The half-decayed leaves from last
autumn barely crunched under his feet as he walked in a trance back to the
cabin, his soiled body’s aches muted to his dazed mind.

When he returned to the cabin, the door swung shut behind him and he felt
himself crawling into bed mindlessly. His nightshirt was gone from the floor,
but the detail seemed as unimportant as the stains undoubtedly transferring
from his skin to the sheets. Feeling dizzy, Kurt surrendered to the pull of
sleep.
The next morning showed none of the dreamless night’s mercy, and Kurt could
only curl in on himself in bed as every emotion he’d ignored the previous night
crashed down on him.

He was unable to leave his bed that day, or the next, except to use the
magically-emptying chamber pot or to reluctantly take a meal. It had never been
in Kurt’s nature to give up, though, so on the third day, he forced himself to
rise from bed with new determination and search again for a means of escape.

The search was still fruitless, though, and eventually Kurt was forced to
settle into a routine of whiling away the time by reading and sewing new
clothes from the filmy white fabric he’d found, although he still checked the
door and windows for any sign of weakness each morning, and dreamed of the
clearing every other night.

The passage of time was marked by changes in the world outside Kurt’s windows,
the leaves darkening in their green before beginning to yellow around the
edges, color licking along their veins like flame until the entire tree was
alight. He was glad the cabin maintained an unchanging warmth, given the thin
fabric he’d been forced to use for his clothing, but as the season changed,
Kurt began to notice changes in himself, too. Although he’d done his best to
stay determined that he would find a way to be rescued or to rescue himself, he
began to find himself swinging more wildly between strong optimism and crushing
despair, and more than once, tears would begin to flow without warning or
provocation.

At first, Kurt had been sure it was the stress of isolation catching up with
him, but then, while bathing in the small tub that had simply appeared one day
– at first, the obvious magic that kept it perpetually filled with clean warm
water unnerved him, but he grew to appreciate it as much as he could appreciate
anything here – he noticed something odd. His stomach, which had only just
begun to lose the last of its baby fat, felt different when his hand brushed
over it, firmer than it should be. As the leaves continued to change, Kurt
couldn’t deny what had happened to him. His abdomen was beginning to bulge
outward, as if swollen from the inside.

There were days of panic this time. Kurt tried refusing to eat, but his body’s
demands were impossible to ignore, and it didn’t help anyway. A desperate
attempt to get the magic trunk to give him just a small dose of poison hemlock
failed, as well.

With time, Kurt felt himself becoming almost numb to his predicament. He had
become pregnant by a magical creature, and all he could do was sit in his cabin
and watch the leaves gradually desert the trees.

Although Kurt had little experience with pregnancy before he’d been kidnapped,
he knew that his was proceeding faster than was usual. One of the books on the
shelves had proved invaluable, though, suggesting that the pregnancies of some
magical beings progressed at a rate more like the animal they resembled than a
normal human’s, so Kurt was at least saved one source of worry. By the time the
first early snow fell, he could feel the occasional kick from the inside and he
was already so hugely swollen that it was becoming difficult to maneuver. He
was spending more and more time in bed, not in despair, as he had in the
beginning, but simply because he felt so constantly exhausted. He supposed that
growing another being inside one’s body was hard enough work to excuse being a
lie-abed for a while.

He was up and about, though, when Sebastian unexpectedly walked through the
door again.
“What are you doing here?” Kurt hissed before Sebastian could make any sort of
remark. He tried to take a threatening step forward, but his new bulk made it
difficult to feel intimidating, regardless of his rage towards the new arrival.

Sebastian quirked an eyebrow and spent a long second looking Kurt over,
lingering on his swollen belly. “God, you look like a whale already,” he
drawled, sounding almost impressed. “I knew satyrs worked fast, but…” He
whistled.

If glares could kill, Kurt would have been left looking at a smoldering pile of
ashes. Somehow, though, he couldn’t come up with anything new to say, months
with no company but his own voice leaving his usually-rapier wit unsharpened
for once. Still, he tried again, “Why did you come here, Sebastian?”

Sebastian rocked back on his heels and shrugged unconcernedly, still staring at
Kurt’s belly. “Oh, I mostly wanted to gloat,” he offered. “While the castle and
Blaine mourn you as dead, you’re here being the breeding bitch for any creature
in the woods that’s interested. Meanwhile, I’ve been offering a sympathetic ear
to the prince, so don’t be surprised if the next time I visit, it’s as the
prince’s new fiancée…”

Kurt’s vision went red at that and the next thing he knew, he was being held
back by a shocked, struggling Sebastian. “Don’t you dare even speak about –“
Kurt was growling, and, “Blaine will never want a cheap trollop like you, you
insufferable little weasel –“

“Jesus!” Sebastian barked in alarm, fighting to hold Kurt at arm’s length from
him while avoiding the hands clawing for his eyes. One of Sebastian’s hands
dropped to his pocket and the opening almost let Kurt get a good grip on that
greasy, badly-groomed hair, when something broke at his feet and a cloud of
smoke puffed up.

Too startled to hold his breath, Kurt inhaled some of the haze and immediately
found himself swaying on his feet, forced to stumble back to the bed so he
wouldn’t collapse on the floor.

Sebastian, breathing hard and disheveled, seemed unaffected by the smoke as it
cleared. He tugged his tunic straight and tried to look aloof again. “Don’t try
to mess with real men, princess,” he managed, “you’ll just embarrass yourself.”

Even swaying under the effects of the smoke, Kurt still couldn’t help shooting
back, “I’ll keep that in mind if I see any, then.”

An ugly sneer broke out across Sebastian’s face and he opened his mouth to
retort, but it was the last thing Kurt was aware of before he blacked out.
When Kurt stirred again, the sun had set and the room was dark around him. He
blinked against the darkness a few times, seeing only faint outlines of the
furniture by moonlight, with no sign of Sebastian. Something was wrong, though.
He could feel the air against his skin, which could only mean his shirt had
been taken, and there was an odd weight on his chest.

Kurt decided to investigate just as soon as he sat up, but the very act of
rising to a sitting position provided more answers than he’d wanted. There was
a strange flopping feeling on his chest, and a new soreness in his nipples.
Eyes widening, Kurt let a trembling hand lift up to his chest, and he
encountered flesh far sooner in his hand’s journey than he should have. It was
also far softer and more malleable than his pectorals had ever been. Steeling
himself, Kurt looked down. He had breasts.

Of all the things he’d expected, that had certainly not been one of them.
Hysteria rose up as he continued staring down in the moonlit darkness, able to
make out the faint outlines of reasonably sized breasts rising and falling with
his panicked breaths. His nipples had even changed, he was able to note
absently, looking larger and darker where they adorned his new… additions.

Kurt tried lowering himself to lie down again, in the faint hopes that they
would be gone when he tried getting up again, but the uncomfortable new feeling
of his breasts settling and flattening down once he was on his back did nothing
to help. Alone with no one but the unborn child turning restlessly inside to
hear him, Kurt let himself whimper.

He had less than a week to get used to his body’s changes before the next
upheaval.

One afternoon, when he was ripping the seams of a delicate tunic in preparation
to let it out again, he felt a sudden lurch in his stomach and a trickle of
fluid leaked from between his legs. It steadily soaked the crotch of his
trousers as he sat there, stunned. He’d read many of the cabin’s books out of
boredom and morbid curiosity, so he quickly realized what was about to happen.
A sense of panic gripped him all the same, though. He’d purposely avoided the
thought before, but… how was he going to handle this on his own?

Thankfully, he wasn’t alone, after all. While he was hauling himself to his
feet, he failed to notice the entrance of three tiny visitors, but once he was
upright and beginning to pace around the cabin, he saw them – three fairies,
tiny winged people no bigger than his hand, surrounded by a soft glow.

“What are you doing here?” He started to blurt out, before a sudden spasm
racked his body and changed his mind. Instead, he pleaded, “Help me, please, I
think I’m giving birth and I don’t know what to do!” Tears pricked at his eyes
as another convulsion roiled his stomach and sent aches through his lower body.

The faeries didn’t say anything, but they did sweep into action. One fetched a
sheet from a trunk and laid it out on the floor, while the other two fluttered
around, urging Kurt out of his soaked clothing and guiding him into position on
the sheet.
The entire process was mercifully quick, although Kurt was sure his screams
could be heard for miles. In the end, he was left holding a soaking wet newborn
with little goat’s legs and nubby horns coming from his head, his tiny goat’s
ears twitching slowly.

One faerie fetched a basin of water and a rag, urging him to clean the little
satyr, another did something out of sight to make the afterbirth and umbilical
cord disappear, and the third laid a thick blanket over the rocking chair.
Together the three faeries urged the exhausted Kurt up and into the rocking
chair’s soft embrace. He was sure that magic was assisting them somehow,
because there was no way he could have moved on his own power.

When the baby satyr opened his mouth and let out a wail like a cross between a
newborn’s cry and a goat’s call, all three faeries vanished. Kurt was too tired
to do more than briefly mourn the disappearance of a possible source of help,
or to care about the foreign sensation when the baby finally began rooting
around until he found his nipple and began to suckle. The pull of milk leaving
his sore breasts was like nothing he’d felt before, but he only winced a little
at the initial pinching bite and cradled the baby to his chest.

Part of him wanted to hate the child that had been forced into his body, the
reason he’d been taken from everything he knew and loved, but it had never been
in him to hate easily, and the child, satyr or not, was still enchanting in the
way of all newborns to their parents. And so Kurt resigned himself to altering
his tunics for easy access to his breasts and let himself give a little
exhausted smile to the child in his arms. He resolutely focused on how to care
for the baby for now, because he had no idea what would come next.
***** Chapter 2 *****
There was little peace to be had with a newborn satyr around. Kurt found
himself waking to wails at all hours of the night and devoting his days to
feeding the baby and keeping him clean. Still, Kurt couldn’t help falling for
the little creature, and he was strangely glad for the purpose it gave his days
in the cabin. He had sung to himself during the interminable days of his
pregnancy, but the songs he sang for the baby were far less melancholy, and
after a short breakdown brought on by the memories, he was even able to sing
the songs his parents had hummed for him in his childhood.

He named the baby Devon. The little satyr already had a head of thick soft
curls, and looking at them reminded Kurt so strongly of his prince sometimes
that tears came to his eyes. Devon didn’t notice his father’s distress, but the
smallest things he did were enough to make Kurt wipe his tears and smile again.

Kurt’s stomach gradually returned to its previous shape, although pale stretch
marks remained, no matter how much ointment he rubbed on them. His breasts
remained, as well, and Kurt slowly forgot to be horrified by their presence as
the days went on – instead, he found himself focusing on how they ached almost
constantly, either with fullness when Devon wasn’t feeding, or with the pinches
and pulls on his nipples when he was.

Things were almost beginning to seem peaceful as Kurt settled into a new
routine with Devon, which, of course, was when the next trauma arrived.

If he’d been capable of deep emotions through the haze in which he awoke, Kurt
would have been struck by terror and rage when he found himself rising from
bed, discarding his nightshirt, and leaving the cabin through the mysteriously
unlocked door. Devon slept on peacefully, and Kurt had just enough ability to
think to be grateful for that, and to hope the child wouldn’t awake to an empty
cabin.

The clearing in midwinter looked very different than it had the first time, but
Kurt still recognized the large oak just off-center in it and the stream to the
side, now iced over. Oddly, although the oak tree was just as leafless as its
neighbors and the ground was hard with frost, the air in the clearing was
warmer than the snow outside it suggested, and the ground within was free of
the white blanket.

Kurt felt the haze on his mind lift, but he had little time to react before a
muffled thumping reached him. He hadn’t even turned around when the sound
became clearer and he had a wild thought for a second that there was a knight
on horseback approaching and he was saved. When he turned, though, his vague
hopes were crushed. Another strange creature had already reached him, with the
body of a horse combined with the upper body of a man.
The centaur was fast. Kurt didn’t have a chance to even speak before the
centaur reached down to grab his shoulders and push him to the ground. Kurt hit
the frozen grass with a huff as the breath was forced out of him, and the
centaur followed him down, his horse legs folding into a kneel so that he could
reach Kurt easily.

Kurt tried to protest, but the centaur ignored him completely, apparently being
far more stoic than the satyr had been. Without a word, the centaur had Kurt
pushed down on his front and was wrapping vines around his wrist, then the
ankle of the same side, and repeating the process on Kurt’s other limbs. Within
moments, Kurt found himself securely bound with the vines, arms pulled back
underneath him so that his left wrist was tied to the left ankle and the right
wrist to the right ankle. The position left him folded up with his face in the
dirt and his rear end forced into the air. As if that wasn’t enough, there was
a quick rustling sound and then Kurt’s ankles were being bound to either end of
a long stick, practically a branch, longer than Kurt’s own arm. As a result,
Kurt’s limbs were forced to stretch apart from each other, leaving his folded
legs spread wide and exposing him thoroughly to the cold night air.

There was a second of stillness and Kurt finally had a chance to catch his
breath and desperately gasp out, “Please, please don’t do this!”

He was ignored, though, and a hand settled on one of his hips. Kurt had a
moment of absolute terror as he realized the implications of a horse’s lower
body, and imagined what would happen to him on being breached by a cock of that
size. Thankfully, though, the first thing to touch him was a slick finger,
which slid into his clenching body with only some resistance. Kurt tried to
tense up and force the intrusion out, but it did no good, and the finger only
pumped into him with more force.

The centaur made a thoughtful noise from behind him, and Kurt tried again,
“Please, you don’t have to do this, please let me go!”
As before, though, the centaur paid as little heed to his words as if he’d been
an animal making noises of complaint, and simply forced a second finger inside
of Kurt.

Kurt didn’t know what the centaur’s thick fingers were slippery with, but he
found himself almost grateful to it when the third finger was worked in
alongside the other two. He felt himself stretched taut around the pumping
digits, wider than he’d ever been except during Devon’s birth.
He could feel the width of the intrusion increasing every time the fingers
pushed into him to their base, and the centaur kept twisting his wrist around
so that the angle changed and Kurt’s body was stretched in every possible
direction.

Kurt couldn’t keep track of time as he was jostled and worked open, so he had
no idea for how long the three fingers had been thrusting into him. His mind
thankfully began to drift away from the moment and from the methodical
spreading of his body, so that even his face scraping repeatedly against the
frozen dirt lost its meaning, as did the frozen air on his skin or the
centaur’s too-warm hand gripping his hip.

When the fourth finger slid in alongside the others, though, Kurt was jolted
out of his merciful daze. The pinch as his skin was stretched taut around the
new width reminded him that his body had actually grown accustomed to the
previous intrusions, and he tried not to think about why he needed to be so
loose that almost an entire hand-span was necessary to prepare him.

The four fingers continued to work inside of him, and just when Kurt felt
himself beginning to finally relax around them, he was suddenly being spread
even wider. Kurt’s eyes went wide with shock and he could hear himself gasping
for breath as his body was forced to accommodate the centaur’s thumb, as well,
all of the fingers and thumb pushing into him to the knuckle. It was so much
that Kurt felt his body tense all over, which only made the intrusion hurt
more.

The centaur didn’t seem to care that Kurt’s eyes were growing moist from the
pain or that his legs were twitching against their bonds, and he only gripped
Kurt’s hip harder to hold him in place while the other hand continued to pump
in and out. Soon enough, Kurt found that he was too exhausted to even tense his
muscles anymore, and the thrusts became easier to take.

Kurt was so drained that he couldn’t even do more than gasp wetly when one of
the centaur’s thrusts just… kept going, so that the thick rim of the centaur’s
knuckles popped through his body’s resistance and slipped inside him.
Miserably, Kurt realized that the centaur had managed to put his entire hand
into his body, and it was such a strange, invasive feeling of being filled that
Kurt found himself drifting a little mentally again, staring blankly across the
clearing’s floor as his body was slowly forced to get used to accepting the
centaur’s hand to the wrist over and over.
When the hand withdrew, Kurt barely registered its absence. He so thoroughly
expected it to return again that he was only startled out of his daze by the
sudden feeling of cold air on his hip where the centaur’s other hand had
rested.

Kurt blinked and tried to force his muddled mind to cooperate, but he only
grasped what was going on a second later, when movement in his peripheral
vision alerted him that the centaur had stood up and was now taking a couple of
steps forward. In a moment, he was standing over Kurt’s bound body, his front
legs well in front of Kurt’s head and his back legs just behind Kurt’s feet and
hands, close enough that Kurt could touch the hooves with his fingertips, if he
wanted. The night seemed even darker with the horse body above him blocking out
the stars, and soon it was darker still as the centaur descended without
warning, dropping to kneel down over Kurt.

Kurt made a startled noise without meaning to, the breath whooshing out of him
as his body was suddenly covered by the massive creature, his belly pressing
Kurt’s hips down and his body further into the ground.

Kurt knew, intellectually, what the centaur was trying to do, but the fear
really set in when he felt him shifting around on top of him, and something
huge and blunt and damp suddenly brushing at where he was open and exposed.

The feeling sent Kurt into real panic and he thrashed in his bounds as much as
he could, his ankles and wrists quickly becoming raw from the vines sawing at
them and his struggles even jostling the horse body above him. He distantly
heard an annoyed huff from far above, but then the head of the centaur’s cock
was following the movement of his hips and managed to brush right between his
legs, once, twice, and then there was a jolt of the centaur’s hindquarters and
it had seated itself in Kurt’s body.The breach felt huge, so large that Kurt
could scarcely believe he’d been prepared for it at all, though he knew he’d
just taken a man’s entire hand. It pushed and forced its way in, making Kurt’s
body yield to it and be invaded. It hurt. Still, Kurt could feel his body
giving way and stretching around the centaur’s cock, and after a few slow back-
and-forths, it began pumping into him in earnest.

Kurt knew that the entire thing wasn’t inside him from how far behind him the
centaur’s back end was, but there was enough hard flesh being crammed inside
him that he imagined he could feel it deep in his guts. He couldn’t even
struggle anymore, fixed in place by the weight above him and the cock impaling
him over and over.

As the thrusting went on, Kurt still felt stretched beyond human limits, but
there was a strange feeling underneath all of it, and he groaned in misery when
he realized that his body was reacting to the rhythmic grinding inside of him,
and the slide of the centaur’s cock was becoming easier, slicker. It seemed to
go on forever, and Kurt tried fruitlessly to ignore the almost-itch between his
legs just above where he was being invaded, his hips beginning to wriggle
without his permission, backing up onto the intruder.

Thankfully, the centaur made no comment and didn’t respond in any way, neither
speeding up nor slowing down on Kurt’s behalf.
The centaur’s thrusting went on and on, and Kurt tried to distract himself by
wondering if that was normal for a horse, or for a man, since his own
experience so far had only been with one other magical creature. He was finally
broken from his thoughts by the centaur’s cock moving faster and rougher, the
sensation thankfully distracting him from the aching shameful arousal between
his legs. Then the centaur was pushing his cock even deeper into Kurt than
before, so deep that it sent a sharp pain through him unlike anything he’d
encountered yet, and Kurt could feel it spasm inside him. The centaur groaned
and his entire body shivered all around Kurt’s prone form.

Then the centaur grunted and stood up, his cock dragging out of Kurt as he did.
Kurt could feel some wetness drip down onto the slope of his back, and some
trickle from between his legs and down his thighs.

Kurt heard the centaur sigh and crack his back, the horse legs tensing a little
around Kurt as he did so. The centaur’s legs began to move, stepping backward
until he was able to kneel down again behind Kurt.

Kurt half-expected to be freed, but instead, he got fingers tracing along where
he was swollen and still gaping open, then plunging inside. After taking the
centaur’s cock, the fingers barely registered, but Kurt still hissed in a
breath in surprise. The centaur took a few moments to prod around inside him,
delving deeper than was comfortable, but he was apparently satisfied with what
he found and withdrew.

With that done, the centaur’s hands were ungentle but efficient in undoing the
knots, and soon Kurt’s limbs were free again. Kurt was barely able to move, but
he immediately rolled over to his side, then tried to sit up. His lower body
protested the movement with a variety of sharp aches, but it didn’t matter
because the centaur was already leaving, pausing to speak the words that made
Kurt’s mind fog over and his body rise to stand without Kurt’s input.

Kurt’s feet led him back out of the clearing and through the snow, back to the
cabin. He didn’t remember getting into bed, but he woke up there the next
morning to Devon’s hungry cry, still bare and sore and covered in crusting
fluids.
It took a few days before Kurt could walk without a limp again, and it was a
few days after that before the twinges of pain between his legs faded. For
Devon’s sake, Kurt tried to go on as if nothing was wrong, but it seemed that
Devon could sense the change in his father’s mood, and cried more often than
usual, wanting to be held constantly. Although the sleepless nights due to
nightmares – memories – of being helpless and invaded made Kurt tired and gave
him headaches that were made worse by Devon’s wails, he welcomed the contact
with his tiny satyr, and sat for hours in the rocking chair just humming to the
baby in his arms.

One day, Kurt had just gotten Devon down to take a nap when the sound of the
doorknob twisting creaked through the cabin.

Kurt whirled around, unsure of what to expect but ready to fight to defend
himself and his baby, but the figure that poked his head through the door took
the breath out of Kurt like a punch.

“Blaine?” he breathed disbelievingly.

“Kurt?” the prince said, then his eyes lit on him and he smiled, the same
familiar toothy grin that Kurt had fallen in love with. Blaine hurried inside
and shut the door behind him. “Kurt! You are here!”

“Blaine!” Kurt said again, barely daring to believe it, and he had crossed the
room before he knew it, reaching out to embrace his prince.

But Blaine stepped to the side, dodging the hug. “Wow,” Blaine said, his brow
furrowing as he looked down at Kurt’s chest, covered but largely visible
through the gauzy white fabric of his tunic. “What happened to you?”

Kurt stared at Blaine, confused by the apparent rejection but desperately
needing to drink in the sight of his lost love. “I was cursed – Sebastian…
Sebastian had something to do with it, I don’t know how, but…” He broke off,
unsure how to describe what had been done to him since his kidnapping.

Blaine was giving him a look of growing disgust, though, shifting his gaze from
Kurt’s breasts to his face. “I guess you finally turned into a woman after all.
I knew it was just a matter of time.”

Kurt blinked. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and his head still felt
like it was buzzing from the shock of Blaine’s arrival. “What?”

“I said: you finally turned into a woman.” Blaine was leaning away from him and
crossing his arms. “It looks like I made the wrong choice after all. To think I
waited for you when Sebastian was an option…”

Kurt just stared, his arms limp at his sides and each breath catching in his
throat.

Blaine airily continued, “I guess I’ll be going back to my castle, then. Have
fun here with whatever you’ve been doing, now that I don’t have to care
anymore.”
Kurt shook his head, stepped back and took a deep breath. “You’re not Blaine,”
he said firmly.

“How can you say that?” the Blaine-lookalike gasped, or pretended to. “Of
course it’s me, I just finally came to my senses about you.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes at the imposter, more sure than ever that it wasn’t his
Blaine. When Kurt had seen Blaine gasp in offense at something, it was always
in jest, with an obvious twinkle in his eye. The eyes of this stranger were
shining, but with malevolent glee instead of sweet impishness. “How is
Sebastian doing this…” he murmured aloud instead of responding, scrutinizing
the false Blaine.

With a roll of his eyes, the impostor waved a hand and then suddenly blurred in
a strange way that made Kurt’s stomach churn to look at it. Kurt had to look
away, but when he looked back, the figure standing there was taller and leaner,
with a very familiar face.

“I knew it,” Kurt hissed at the smirking Sebastian.

“Oh, I had you going for a few minutes there,” Sebastian claimed, looking smug.
“You should have seen your face!”

“How did you do that?” Kurt demanded. “What are you?”

“Handsome and far more attractive to the prince than you could be,” Sebastian
supplied. “I’m also a very good magician.”

Kurt lifted an eyebrow. He hoped that the emotional upheavals of the last
minutes hadn’t shown on his face, but his scorn for Sebastian was deep enough
that he could at least focus solely on that for now. “Apparently not that good,
given that you’re still single,” he said with a mock-sympathetic pout.

Sebastian’s ever-present smirk turned into a scowl. “Not for long. Blaine won’t
be able to resist me forever, especially not once he realizes you’re gone for
good.”

Kurt’s heart leapt at the implication that Blaine was still waiting for him,
but instead of reacting visibly, he instead shot back, “So you can’t actually
control people, then. That is a pity for you, since you certainly aren’t
attracting anyone with your charming personality or your horse teeth.”

“And you won’t be attracting Blaine anymore if he ever realizes I basically
made you into a woman,” Sebastian said airily, unable to completely smooth the
ugly scowl off his face.

“You made me-“ Kurt started, sputtering a little, before beginning again, “So
it was you. I assumed-“

Sebastian cut him off. “Please, I could make you look like anything I wanted,
but I figured your face is punishment enough as it is. Besides, I heard that
most of the forest creatures prefer maidens, anyway, so there was no need to
change it.”

Kurt furrowed his brow in mock-confusion. “Your issues with women aside, if you
can look however you want, then why are you still so unfortunate-looking?”
Sebastian glared at him, but before he could respond, Kurt continued, “And who
did you have to convince to make this cabin for you? It doesn’t sound like you
could do that yourself.”
“Oh, that was your new beaux,” Sebastian answered, beginning to smirk again.
“They wanted someone to carry their runts, and I told them I had the perfect
candidate. They supplied the magic and the cottage, and I anchored it for them
and… got you ready,” here Sebastian gestured at Kurt’s body with a laugh, “and
delivered you to them.”

Kurt was shaking his head. He needed answers, if only because they might help
him to get out of here. “How did you get me out of the castle?”

It looked like Sebastian was enjoying the chance to boast about his exploits,
so he was grinning when he said, “I can turn into anything, remember? That
includes a bird big enough to fly your pasty little body out a window and into
the woods. No one at the castle knows about me, so I’m still free to lend a
helping shoulder – or anything else – to the prince. No one has any reason to
suspect me,” Sebastian boasted, then paused and maliciously added, “And no one
has a clue of how to find you.”

“Okay, but how did you ‘anchor’ the magic?” Kurt asked, refusing to give
Sebastian the satisfaction of the reaction he clearly wanted.

Sebastian just waved a hand, though, and said, “That’s the boring part.
Besides, getting to see you knocked up and miserable is always fun, but I can
only take so many minutes of your voice, and those minutes are up now.” Without
even a goodbye, Sebastian went to the door and opened it.

Kurt had been readying himself as soon as Sebastian turned for the door,
though, and he rushed at it as well, grappling with Sebastian immediately in an
attempt to wrench the door farther open. Kurt didn’t want to leave Devon
behind, but if he could get out, he could get help and come back to rescue him,
and this might be his last chance.

Kurt had his fingers gripping the door and was beginning to slowly but surely
force it open, but suddenly one of Sebastian’s hands disappeared from where it
had been pulling Kurt’s hair. A sharp pain made Kurt’s stomach lurch and forced
him to involuntarily remove his hands from the door, clutching at the nipple
Sebastian had cruelly twisted. In that second of distraction, Sebastian was out
the door and it was slamming shut.

Kurt stared at the closed door for a moment before slamming his fist on it in
anguish. He was trapped again.
The months passed slowly, marked by the thawing of the world outside the
windows and the slow growth of Kurt’s belly. By the time tiny green leaves
turned the forest canopy into a kind of mist, Kurt was still just barely
showing, and his reading on centaurs indicated it would be a very long time
until he was ready to give birth.

Devon continued to grow quickly, and Kurt took to keeping a journal of all the
funny things he did, trying not to let the fear of the satyrs taking the baby
taint their time together. Kurt knew it was unusual that he was still able to
breastfeed Devon while a second child grew inside him, but he assumed it was
some side effect of the magic used on him, and he came to enjoy the sweet
intimacy of feeding times, even though he couldn’t forget that the changes to
his body had been Sebastian’s doing.

The spring and summer passed, and Kurt found that he was growing large enough
for movement to be cumbersome again. He still kept his journal and talked to
Devon and read when he could, but the summer sunlight outside the windows threw
him into melancholy every now and then, as it taunted him with what he couldn’t
have, and couldn’t share with Devon.

As autumn came, it became increasingly difficult for Kurt to set Devon on his
lap or cradle him to his chest, so he had to take to doing feedings while lying
down on his side, with Devon cradled in his arms alongside him. Kurt was
already swollen as large as he’d been just before Devon was born, and his
reading on horses indicated that he still had a few months to wait. Remembering
the size of the centaur who’d taken him, Kurt couldn’t help the occasional
shiver of fear at what the birth of even a baby centaur would be like. Devon
fussed a little when Kurt could no longer attend his needs as quickly as
before, but Kurt did his best to keep up, even when his ankles and back were so
sore he almost felt like crying. Part of Kurt looked forward to giving birth,
if only to have it over with, but the rest of him was terrified.

It turned out that Kurt had been right to be fearful.
The first snows were falling when Kurt felt his body begin to clench up and
shudder warningly. He barely had time to gasp when his water broke before the
three fairies were back again, ready to guide him through it. If Devon’s birth
had been agonizing, this one was devastating. It took hours until the process
was done, and when it was, the faeries didn’t even attempt to move Kurt to the
armchair. Instead, they left him to lay back on the sheet on the floor instead,
tears streaming down his cheeks and blood pooling beneath him. Somehow, almost
certainly by faerie magic, Devon had slept through the ordeal, including his
father’s broken screams, and Kurt had been fuzzily thankful for that in his
brief moments of lucid thought.

There was a moment of stillness in the cabin while Kurt lay exhausted on the
sheet and the fairies quickly did something between his legs to stanch the
bleeding, but it was broken by the newborn centaur’s wail and, as before, the
faeries vanished at the sound. There was no way at all Kurt could push himself
to a sitting position just yet, so he rolled onto his side with a great effort
and gathered the baby to himself, gently soothing it despite the wetness on his
own cheeks.

The tiny centaur was a girl, Kurt noticed, with no hair at all on her head but
a soft coat of wet chestnut fur on her horse half. His tears were forgotten as
he stroked her face with a cautious fingertip and stared at the little
creature, feeling a warmth blooming in him like it had for Devon, and he knew
he was already in love with this little one, too, despite the pain of her
conception and birth. He didn’t think he would be walking any time soon, but
even the agony in his lower half was overwhelmed for the moment by the strength
of his feelings for his new daughter. “Elizabeth,” he murmured out loud, his
voice almost worn completely away from the earlier screaming. “Hi, little girl.
Hi, Elizabeth…”

Living with two babies turned out to be more of a challenge than Kurt had
anticipated, but it was less of a jarring change than Devon’s arrival had been
at first. Devon seemed unsure about the new arrival for the first day or two,
but took to her very quickly after that, and Kurt was glad he could let the two
of them snuggle together in the crib without problems. With her horse half, the
newborn Elizabeth was already slightly bigger than Devon, but she still stared
at her half-brother with the look of awe she also aimed at Kurt from the second
her eyes opened. The little centaur was incredibly fast to learn to walk,
wobbling to her hooves and taking shaky steps almost as soon as Kurt was healed
enough to do the same.

Altogether, it was an interesting, somehow charming time in the little cabin
for the three of them, although Kurt dreaded the day he was somehow deemed
“healed enough” to be bred again.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Due to Elizabeth’s size and the rough pregnancy, he healed slower than before,
so it was at least three months later, just at the start of spring, when Kurt
found himself rising in the middle of the night again.

This time, there was no one in the clearing when Kurt arrived, but the fog from
his mind had hardly cleared when a distant splashing sound reached his ears.
Kurt steeled himself and looked down the stream in the direction of the
rapidly-approaching sounds. A dark bulk was swimming upstream, the moonlight
shining off its slick hide. Kurt could only take a startled step back when a
giant bull seal heaved himself up out of the water and somehow rippled, and
then there was a naked man standing on the bank, a sealskin draped over his
shoulders.

“Ah, I see I was just in time,” the selkie said, letting the sealskin drop from
his shoulders onto the grass. “There was a squall coming in as I left the sea,
and it slowed my departure. I would have been so disappointed to miss this
night,” he said with a rueful smile.

“Please,” Kurt tried, although it had never helped before. “Please help me, I
don’t want to be here and I’ve been cursed. Just help me escape – and my
babies, I can’t abandon them – I’ll do anything you want, the prince is my
fiancée…”

As he’d half-expected, though, the selkie just shook his head with a quiet
chuckle and walked closer, ignoring his words.

“My, but you’re lovely,” the selkie said, looking Kurt’s naked body up and
down, lingering between his thighs and neck. “I’d hardly call that a curse,
with those glorious tits of yours.”
Somehow Kurt found himself still able to blush, and he could feel his face
going scarlet and heated. He fruitlessly tried to cover his body with his hands
and looked away from the selkie’s gaze, trying to fix his mind somewhere out of
the clearing.

It became more difficult when the selkie’s hands landed on his body, though.

Somehow, the selkie’s hands still felt damp no matter how long he ran them over
Kurt’s unresponsive body, and Kurt could see in his peripheral vision that
there were wet spots in the grass wherever the selkie’s feet had landed. The
smell of sea salt was heavy in the air.

Kurt wondered for a split-second if there was some magic that kept him from
resisting as the selkie easily pried Kurt’s hands away from where they were
covering him. The thought was quickly chased away by the selkie’s hands landing
on his chest, though, and Kurt could feel his cheeks growing even more heated
at the reverent way the selkie cupped and stroked his breasts.

“Please,” he tried to grit out again, but the selkie just lowered his head and
started to mouth at the skin of Kurt’s neck. It was hot and damp, and the
selkie wasted no time in caressing Kurt’s neck with lips and tongue, the scrape
of teeth coming so subtly Kurt would have been unsure he’d felt it, if it
hadn’t been for the quick rush of heat to his belly. At the same time, the
selkie was thoroughly enjoying Kurt’s breasts, squeezing them lightly, one in
each hand, then rubbing his thumbs against the nipples.
Kurt had to hold back an involuntary whine at the ministrations, but it
appeared he’d been unsuccessful, since the selkie pulled away from his neck
long enough to shoot him a roguish grin. “See?” the selkie said, “not a curse
after all.”

Kurt bit his lip against the urge to argue – he very much wanted to, but
nothing else about this night was within his control, and he might as well not
give the creature the satisfaction of his words.

The selkie happily returned to mouthing at his neck, one of his hands sliding
down Kurt’s body to cup his hip and pull him flush against the selkie’s body.
The other hand was still groping at Kurt’s breast, massaging it harder and then
tugging lightly at the nipple.

Kurt’s blush, which had subsided some, came flaring back when he recognized the
familiar sensation in his breast and the selkie paused, then pulled his head
away from Kurt’s neck to look down. The selkie laughed. “I see you’re a proper
mother to your bairns then, aren’t you?”

Kurt gritted his teeth as the selkie raised his hand to his lips and licked off
the droplet of milk that had dripped onto his fingers.

“You’ll carry and nurse my pup so well,” the selkie was muttering as he dropped
his hand back down, past Kurt’s chest and down to the gap between his legs,
“wish I could see you full and round with it, I would keep you satisfied every
day…”

The selkie’s hand dipped down and just cupped Kurt there as he spoke, but just
as Kurt was beginning to be able to tune him out, the hand drew back a little
and fingers slid into the place he parted and began stroking softly.

Kurt couldn’t help the soft pants escaping his mouth as the selkie continued
his ministrations, sliding the other hand back from his hip to rest on his ass,
kneading the soft flesh there in time with his fingers’ stroking. Kurt tried to
clench his fists at his sides and dig his nails into his palms to distract
himself, but he could feel his knees going weak all the same, especially when
the selkie began mouthing just under his jaw.
The selkie’s fingers seemed to be seeking something as they rubbed and circled
where Kurt felt himself growing damp, then they made a little twist to the
front and landed on the tiny nub that was there. Kurt gasped at the contact,
and again when the selkie groaned in triumph and began to rub harder at that
spot. The contact was regular and rhythmic, and Kurt could feel his legs
beginning to shake as it went on relentlessly, his stomach tightening as he was
driven toward some peak.

The selkie moaned again as Kurt’s panted breaths landed in his dark salt-
scented hair, and his hand abandoned Kurt’s ass in favor of one of his breasts,
fondling it none too gently.

Kurt tried to think about something, anything else, but coherent thought was
quickly dissolving, especially when the selkie pinched his nipple between
finger and thumb and began rolling and tugging it, sending little jolts between
his legs. The selkie’s other hand was still working over the little nub between
Kurt’s legs, and the heat continued to build in Kurt’s belly until it exploded
without warning in a shuddery burst that enflamed Kurt’s entire body.

Kurt was barely aware of the selkie reaching around him to hold his weight when
his knees gave out. He slumped helplessly against the selkie’s hard warm body,
arms going up automatically to shakily clutch the selkie’s shoulders for
balance as the electric feeling continued to consume him.

When his hearing returned, the selkie was murmuring praises while holding him
up with one arm, the other hand groping again at Kurt’s ass. “So responsive,”
the selkie was saying, “getting so wet, so hot. You’ll take my seed so well…”

Although his face was already suffused with blood, Kurt felt himself flush even
deeper and he looked away from the selkie’s face, growing so ashamed he was
almost sick with it. He was suddenly aware that his breast and one of the
selkie’s hands were wet with milk, as well as with the salt water that seemed
to constantly soak the selkie’s extremities.

The selkie didn’t seem to care about Kurt’s sudden stiffness, and lowered him
to the ground, turning him so that Kurt was forced onto all fours like an
animal. Before Kurt could try to scramble away or turn over and face his
assailant, the selkie was plastered to his back, arms around his waist and
stiff hot cock poking at the back of Kurt’s thighs.

Kurt shuddered at the feeling, but he couldn’t make himself try to wrestle
himself free, and the selkie quickly reached back with one hand to position
himself, the head of his cock poking right at the place Kurt was aching and
slick. With a little push, the selkie sunk inside.
Kurt tried not to gasp at the sensation of being stretched so suddenly, but it
didn’t hurt even as much as the first time he’d been penetrated, and somehow it
felt more like scratching an itch than being ripped open as it rubbed against
his insides. The selkie groaned into the back of Kurt’s neck and one of his
hands reached up to grasp one of Kurt’s dangling breasts again, cupping it so
the nipple fell between his middle and pointer finger, and squeezed hard.
Somehow, instead of hurting, the slight discomfort intensified the almost-itch
between Kurt’s legs around the selkie’s cock, and it only grew stronger as the
selkie began to drag his cock in and out, pumping slowly as his hand
rhythmically squeezed and massaged Kurt’s breast.

“Your breasts,” the selkie groaned, “so soft and hot, you’ll be such a good
mother to my pup, yes, wish I could see you nursing him with those beautiful
tits, would suck them myself while I fuck you… Ah, yes, so hot…”

Kurt moaned in mingled pleasure and humiliation at the selkie’s words and
ministrations, and the selkie squeezed his breast harder on hearing him. The
selkie also began moving faster, his hips moving rapidly to pump into Kurt,
stretching him over and over again.

The tingling heat was building even more inside Kurt then, and he whimpered as
he felt himself coming close to the edge, especially as the selkie sped up even
more, groping his breast harshly and panting hot and damp across Kurt’s neck.
The sensation built and built as the selkie pumped inside him, then crested
with a final squeeze to his nipple, and Kurt heard himself giving a strangled
cry as his vision whited out and his whole body shuddered and shook with
pleasure.

The selkie continued thrusting into him through it, and as soon as Kurt was not
in danger of collapsing to the ground, he brought up his arm that had been
around Kurt’s waist and used that hand to grasp Kurt’s other breast, treating
it the same as the first.

“Ah, your tits,” the selkie moaned, squeezing both at the same time and causing
Kurt to gasp in humiliation as he felt milk squirting from his nipples from the
movement. Kurt couldn’t tell if the selkie noticed or not, but he seemed to
speed up regardless, and it wasn’t long before Kurt felt himself nearing the
edge again.

This time, when he felt his body seize up, the selkie grunted behind him and
stiffened as well, and Kurt was vaguely aware through the trembling of his own
body that the selkie’s cock was spasming inside him, the selkie’s hips
twitching as if to force himself in even deeper.

The selkie slumped down and for a moment Kurt was forced to bear both of their
weights on his trembling hands and knees. Soon, though, the selkie was groaning
and lifting himself up, sweaty skin sticking to Kurt’s a little as he pulled
himself up to a kneeling position.

Kurt stayed where he was, panting and staring at the ground below him, waiting
for the selkie to leave and say the words that would force him to return to the
cabin.
Instead, though, the selkie stood up and reached down, hoisting Kurt up to
stand on wobbly feet. Kurt stared at the selkie in fearful confusion, unsure
what was to come next, hands itching to cover himself. He could feel some of
the selkie’s seed trickling out and down his thighs.

The selkie smiled at him warmly and reached out with both hands to cup Kurt’s
breasts. He leaned in and closed his mouth around a nipple before Kurt could
react and sucked, causing Kurt to hiss in surprise as a squirt of milk left him
and was swallowed up by the selkie. “Mm,” the selkie hummed as he pulled back,
giving Kurt’s breasts one last squeeze. “Like I said, glorious.”

With seeming reluctance, the selkie let go of Kurt’s chest and stepped
backwards, speaking the familiar strange words that made Kurt’s mind go
blissfully blank and his body turn to go back out of the clearing. Kurt vaguely
heard the selkie’s steps as he went to get his sealskin and the splash as he
dove into the stream, but Kurt couldn’t make sense of them in his fogged state,
and his steps carried him mindlessly back to the cabin.

Kurt woke up the next morning feeling more ashamed than he had in a long time.
He knew that nothing about the previous night had been his fault, but he felt
incredibly dirty all the same, as if the slick touch of the selkie lingered on
his skin. He wished he could take a long, thorough bath and scour his skin
until it was raw, but he had to settle for a quick wash with a rag, because
Devon and Elizabeth woke soon after him with hungry cries.

Kurt did his best to ignore the memories invading his mind when Devon first
grasped a breast, and arranged his children on either side of him as he did
every morning, Elizabeth’s hooves digging into his thighs as she tried to
clamber closer on his lap. Once the morning feeding was done, Kurt ignored his
own grumbling belly to finally take the bath he needed, holding back his sobs
until he could bury them in his pillow that night.

Once enough days had passed for Kurt to have the spare energy after caring for
his children and keeping himself together, he looked through his books to find
information about selkies, or at least about seals. What he found made him
groan, but simultaneously gave him a sense of relief – he would have to wait
another year before giving birth. He didn’t look forward to dealing with
another long pregnancy, but at least he had a longer time before he’d be
expected to conceive again.
This pregnancy turned out to be mercifully easy. Kurt was glad, because as
Elizabeth and Devon grew, he wore himself ragged keeping up with them. Devon
had started to babble the previous autumn, and was progressing quickly to using
a few real words. His favorite, predictably, was “no,” but it warmed Kurt’s
heart that his second favorite was “papa.” Elizabeth listened intently to
everything her brother and father said, and Kurt nearly shrieked in delight
when she managed to repeat “papa” as the first leaves were falling.

That spring, Kurt had taken up drawing again. He’d been good at it in his youth
at the castle, and despite his initial rustiness, soon the cabin’s walls were
hung with myriad portraits of Devon and Elizabeth as they grew. Naturally,
there were also a number of Devon and Elizabeth’s own scribblings decorating
the place, once they saw their father having fun with paper and charcoal. The
number of baths given in the cabin also shot up around that time.

In all, it wasn’t a miserable year. Kurt still wished more than anything that
he could be free, and he lived with the constant terror that his children would
be stolen from him, but he loved the little ones and they kept him busy and
often smiling.

The spring came again after a long winter, and one day Kurt recognized the
signs from his body that the baby was almost ready. He moved as quickly as his
acquired bulk allowed, putting Elizabeth and Devon into their crib (and hoping
Devon would stay there and not escape like he was wont to do recently) and
laying out a sheet on the floor. By the time the faeries arrived, Kurt was
already breathing steadily through the contractions and the babies had fallen
asleep.

It was an easy birth, and Kurt was actually surprised to find that it was over.
He was also somewhat surprised that the newborn was a seal pup, but he took a
deep breath and shook off the shock, and took it into his arms as the faeries
cleaned him up.

As always, the faeries disappeared as soon as the baby opened its mouth and
gave a little mewl, and Kurt took over cleaning up the little seal himself. As
he rubbed a warm wet rag over its fur, though, the little creature squirmed
and, abruptly, Kurt found himself holding a newborn human infant, a tiny
sealskin dropping wetly to the floor. Thankfully, Kurt managed to keep hold of
the baby through his surprise, and continued cleaning the little boy up.

Life with a baby selkie took some adjustment, and Kurt eventually settled on
letting the baby stay in seal form for about half the day, which he spent
swimming happily in the bathtub, and in human form the rest of the time, his
sealskin safely on an upper shelf as he laid on a blanket on the floor or bed,
turning his head with great effort to watch his siblings playing.

Through the daily trials and excitement of living with a toddler satyr, a baby
centaur, and a newborn selkie, thoughts of the clearing were never far from
Kurt’s mind. He looked through books of mythological creatures every night,
driven by morbid curiosity and a determination not to be caught off guard.

When he did find himself rising from bed and walking to the clearing again,
though, he wasn’t ready for what was awaiting him.
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