The next day I worked in the garden, braving the warm noon sun in a white cotton blouse that did nothing to conceal cleavage, and a short skirt that showed long legs.

The Myrnotor was holding a wheelbarrow with one hand and an ounce of his strength while I desperately tested the limits of his mental domination by leaning over and enticing him with ever more voluptuous valley views.

As usual, he didn’t blink, but I swear I might have seen a nostril twitch.

Dinner was light.

Cocoa butter was warm on my breasts.

Then I read while waiting for my husband to do a musquito’s business in my poor deprived little slit.

Only tonight was different. One of the guards burst into my chamber, slamming the door behind him.

I heard a click behind him in the look.

“Jules!” I shouted his name, “What is the meaning of this!? Leave immediately”

He looked upon me coldly.

“Sorry miss, Milord’s orders were quite clear. I’m not to follow what you say, only to punish you.”

“Falsehood! Punish me for what?”

It was my husband’s voice that came through in response, though muffled.

“For how you shamelessly flirt before the new beast like a brazen strumpet!”

I could now see a small hole in the wall through which my husband’s eye could be seen, spying.

“I do not!” I protested, stamping my foot. In truth it was not until this moment I realized his words were true, but I stuck with my story.

“End this stupidity!” I then added, “How do you mean to punish me? Lock me up forever?”

His laugh was cruel.

“No my dear. If I’m to be a cuckold, then I shall choose how, not you!”

Jules had dropped his pants. The seven inch weapon that was now leveled at me must have seemed a mile to my husband.

But it would hurt in my un-aroused, never-fulfilled depths.

Hurt a lot.

“No! Stop this now! Jules?!” I tried to appeal to the man.

He advanced towards me, “Sorry ma’am, I’ve dreamed of this at least as much as all the other men.”

He grabbed my robe by the collar in his left hand and shoved me hard with the other. Fabric tore and I fell back on my bed, the wind knocked out of me.

Jules cast my ruined garment aside and stalked up on me. I could hear a hurried sound like a child applauding behind the wall.

The little bastard was pleasuring himself to my torment, and I could hear his piggish grunts as Jules reached the intersection between the foot of my bed and the path of the door.

Suddenly there was a massive crunch and the door soared from its hinges at the velocity of an arrow, crushing Jules against the wall with a sickening series of crunches; clearly bones had been shattered.

The Myrnotor strode into the room with a bold posture.

My husband’s feet could be heard scampering awkwardly from the next room, tripping over his pants at every other step.

The Hulking brute pulled the door aside and threw the unconscious Jules from the room before turning back to me. So swift was his spin, the loincloth gave me a flash of what most surely have been its hard cock, hanging by sheer dint of its weight straight down.

Just that flash nearly stopped my heart.

It was at least a foot of broom-handle thick meat, capped by a flared head, like that of an ornate lampshade.

My stomach felt almost queasy as my brain reeled to comprehend more man than it knew how to understand. It didn’t even begin to with it all, but I knew that I wanted it.

My jaw dropped and a drooling mouth competed with my suddenly saturated pussy for attention. My finger and thumb subconsciously grazed a nipple that had instantly turned to stone as he strode closer, his state of arousal betraying what his one intent could be.

“Please!” I gasped, breathing so hard, “Don’t rape me!”

But the creature slid his warm muscular body over me, letting me feel the ridges of his spectacular abdominals grazing my skin as he came face-toface with me, huge hands on either side of my head.

“Please!” I whimpered, anticipation shuddering through me.

He held for a moment and then suddenly snorted, rearing back his awesome pectorals convulsed in deep laughter.

“Rape you!” He boomed in mirth. “You’re dripping for it!”

And now my emotions were at a tug-of-war. On one side, his words stung me for they were true, and on the other, they were delivered in THAT VOICE.

His voice was so low, it echoed in his massive chest, surged up from his abs, yet clearly had its source from somewhere beneath even that.

It vibrated into my very soul, and shook me within at such great force, I nearly found myself at orgasms doorstep, teased and enticed, but unable to cross the threshold.

As he continued to speak, it felt as though sheets of hot crushed velvet were being rolled over my flesh, even through his words were still cruel.

“Besides, what made you think I wanted you? I’m obviously not even aroused!”

All the color must have drained from me then.

“Clearly not arouuuuu—“ I trailed off as he leaned in close again, untying the ribbon that the market had placed on his tail. I just stared down that long muzzle into those deep bovine eyes as his arms encircled my head to tie back my hair with the ribbon.

“Wear your hair up, you silly bint. I like it that way.”

He patted my cheek twice and was out of the room in three strides, leaving me a panting, lustful mess of sweat on the bed.

* * *