You know, there's this cliché that teenage boys always eat massive amounts, but teenage girls really aren't that different if they're not suppressed by diet culture and body shaming. Like, I was a teenage girl who frankly just stopped bothering to fit into mainstream beauty ideals at some point, and I would regularly make myself just one big massive pot of pasta and devour it completely. This wasn't even stress eating or anything, I just genuinely needed the energy because you know, I was a teenager and my body was developing. I feel like so many teenage girls think they need to eat as little as possible to be petite and pretty, but the truth is that your body is developing just as intensely as teenage boys' bodies. Eat more, please, your body needs it.
ok so i saw the first episode of The Last of Us and. not only is it an AWESOME FUCKING CONCEPT??? fungi zombie apocalypse with oodles of research and reality baked in??!?!?!?!!? HELL YEAH!! but also. um.
It's nuts how common it is to not allow children to be angry, even (especially) in households where adults are angry all the time. As a child I knew my own anger was unacceptable--not just expressing it outwardly but feeling it at all. So now as an adult my immediate reaction to my own anger is often to feel guilt instead of like. Noticing when someone is being rude or unfair or my boundaries are being violated or whatever. fucked up.
I really need to keep a log of which terms of endearment or pet names each character uses in my longfics, because when I go back to add on a new vignette, I can never remember who called who what. And keeping this consistent for each character, yet varied between characters, is very important to me. Speech patterns are a big part of characterization!
I skimmed back through my fics to put together a list just out of curiosity, to see if I really do vary them. I doubt most of you will care, though, so it's hidden below the cut.
Each term listed is what they call their partner, not what they themself are called.
Rees: pearl, little mouse, good wife, my one, my love [not counting what he calls her in roleplay]
Margaret: my darling
Griffon: dear, good girl, mine, my own heart [once]
Adelaide: my love [only once—our Adie is too fierce for romantic mush!]
Hugo: sweetest, wife, good girl, my sunshine girl, mate [he's my softest boi!]
Winifred: darling, love, mate
Garek: mate [he explicitly tells Esther he doesn't want to call her any pet names because he loves her full real name so much aww]
Esther: kitten, darling [once]
Colin: darling, mate, butterfly
Susannah: my love, alpha, darling [once]
Not super bad, but looks like I better stop using the term "darling" 😬 The guys are good at mixing it up, but all the ladies are very boring with their terms of endearment. Do better, ladies! (It's me, I'm ladies.)
(Also, while doing this exercise, I discovered that I named both Hugo's housekeeper and Rees's housekeeper Mrs. Walter. Why?? I'm so dumb. But now I kind of want to name all housekeepers Mrs. Walter from here on out. They're all sisters-in-law from a huge family, scattered across the country working as housekeepers for monsters who love humans.)
Summary for this chapter: Margaret gets a bit of a primer on monster sex from her friend Esther, followed by a hands-on demonstration from her fiancé Rees.
Tags for this chapter: NSFW 🌶️, sneaky secret sex again 🤫, oral (f receiving) 👅, dildo use (f receiving) 🍆, hand job 🖐, size kink 💕
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Margaret had no married female relative to inform her about intimate marital relations before her wedding day, so her friend Esther decided she would take on this duty, especially since she was married to a monster herself.
As soon as Esther began explaining, however, Margaret attempted to stop her, saying that she had heard enough here and there over her 30 years to have a pretty good idea of what the mechanics were. But Esther replied that there were additional considerations since Mr. Sutton was a monster and Margaret not; the size difference between the two meant her body would need more preparation.
“Some of that preparation is up to Mr. Sutton, and will need to be performed every time you lie together. He ought to use his mouth and fingers to make you slick and ready for him.”
“Yes, yes, I understand what you mean,” Margaret said quickly, her cheeks flushed, but Esther was not at all abashed.
“But you should also do some preparation of yourself before your wedding night,” Esther went on, and picked up a box from the table to set it in her lap and remove the lid. Inside lay three lacquered wooden phalluses in ascending sizes. “These are for you to use to stretch your opening and become accustomed to penetration.”
“Esther!” Margaret gasped, throwing her hands onto her cheeks. Esther had to suppress her urge to smile at her friend’s innocent shock. “I can’t—those are—”
“They are phalluses,” Esther said bluntly. “Start with the smallest, go slowly, and always use oil on them and yourself.”
Margaret pointed at the largest one. “Surely that is not meant to go inside me!”
Esther could not help laughing lightly. “Though I cannot be certain how large Mr. Sutton is, I would say that if you want him to ever go inside you, you better be able to take this inside you.” The minotaur’s body was roughly the same size as Garek’s, and that largest phallus was a bit smaller than his orc cock.
“Oh my…”
“Do not be intimidated, dear. You will be pleasantly surprised at what your body is capable of. Very pleasantly surprised, I assure you.”
Margaret had by now recovered to school her expression into a blank one, but Esther thought she looked a little too innocent now. Esther did not attempt to hide her smile. “Or, perhaps, you will not be wholly surprised at how pleasing it is?”
Margaret's composure broke again in a telling blush that had Esther laughing.
———
Margaret realized after leaving Esther's house that she could go to Rees's and no one would know, simply assuming she had spent that extra time with Esther.
This time, when Rees answered the door, he was not alarmed to see her, a smile stretching wide on his muzzle as he let her in.
“Do you normally answer the door half naked?” Margaret asked as she set down her box to remove her bonnet and pelisse. Rees was wearing no coat nor even a waistcoat, just his shirt loose about his trousers.
“I have no servants in the house on Sundays, so I make myself comfortable. How long can you stay this time?”
“An hour or two.” She picked her box back up. “My family thinks I am visiting Esther Skrof, and I was, but she gave me something, and I…I thought I should come ask you about it.”
He gave the box a curious look. “What is it?”
“Let's sit down.”
On the sofa, she handed the box to Rees. He opened it, and his eyes went wide. “Esther said I should use those before we are married,” Margaret said quickly, before he could comment, “but I thought I should verify whether that last one,” she flapped her hand in the direction of the largest phallus, “is really necessary.”
Rees slowly raised his head to look at her. His eyebrows had sunk back down, his eyes no longer wide open but heavy-lidded now. “You wanted to verify this because you are concerned, or because you are curious?” His voice sounded thick and flinty.
Margaret swallowed. “A bit of both, but mostly…curious.”
“Mm. And last time you were here, you said you wanted to use your hand on me. Do you still want to do that?”
The fluttering in her stomach gave a sharp tug. “Yes—I assume that would still be agreeable to you.”
He huffed out of his nose. “Oh yes.” He paused, considering, tail flicking at the end. “I could just show you my size, to satisfy your curiosity, but I think your concern will be less if you'll permit me to do something for your pleasure. May I?”
“Yes, please.”
He led her to his bedroom, stopping by the kitchen to retrieve some oil first, explaining that what he wished to do would be more comfortable in his bed, but promising not to actually lay with her. Once propped up against his bed’s headboard, he set out the open box and rested a hand on her leg to rub with soothing tenderness. “I would like to use this smallest one on you, only this one. Alright?”
Margaret wasn't sure how using the smallest one would satisfy her curiosity on how the biggest one compared to Rees, but she trusted him. “Alright.”
But before he even touched the lacquered phallus, he laid himself between her legs, lowered his head, and feasted on her cunt, as he'd done last time they were alone together. Margaret was not complaining; it felt splendid. “Penetration is easier and more pleasurable,” Rees paused his licking to say, “if I make you very wet and aroused.”
“I have a feeling,” Margaret forced out, “that this, mmm, is just as much for…your enjoyment…as mine.”
Rees smiled around his flicking tongue, then paused again to say, “Not just as much,” before pressing his mouth back over her folds.
He licked for a few blissful minutes more, then pulled away to reach over her hip to the box, retrieving the smallest phallus and oil. “I think you are naturally slick enough without the oil, but I will use it just to be careful,” he explained as he rubbed oil along the shaft as well as her cunt.
He placed the tip at her opening. “This should feel similar to my finger. It should feel pleasurable. If there is any pain whatsoever, you say, and I stop.”
“Alright,” she breathed out, nodding quickly with eager nerves.
“I am in earnest—any discomfort, you must tell me.”
“I'm more likely to be pained by you teasing me with this and not giving it to me.”
His lips hitched into a smile. “My, how impatient you are, Margaret.” He nudged the phallus forward, barely parting her lips, yet sending sparks of anticipation shimmering up her spine. “You need to be filled so badly, hm?” It spread her lips further, the first hint of tantalizing pressure unfurling.
“Yesss,” she moaned. “I do, I need it, Rees.”
“I have just what you need, don’t fret,” he purred, gently pushing the phallus further into her, pressure building at her hole.
“Oh it’s tight,” she moaned.
He froze. “It hurts?”
“No no, it’s just, oh, it’s such a stretch!”
“You like it?”
“Yes, yes!”
He started easing it in again, settling his thumb atop her clitoris to rub gently there as well. “Good, that’s good, pearl. You’re taking it so well. Almost there, and then you’ll be full like you need.”
Margaret watched it disappear into her and moaned when the base touched her lips. “Oh pearl, you took it all, see?” Rees groaned.
She could feel her walls throbbing around it, and as Rees began to gently drag it along those walls, tingling warmth steadily built in her belly and sex, while the straining sensation mellowed to something less sharp but still thrilling.
“Not as tight now?” Rees asked.
“No,” she panted. “Less pressure, but oh! Still so full! So good.”
He pumped the faux phallus a bit faster. “You see how you adjust so beautifully to it? It will be the same with my cock, even though it’s bigger. This perfect cunt will stretch to fit my girth and mold itself to my shape, and…unghh oh bloody hell, I’ll burst if I keep talking!”
Rees closed his eyes like he couldn’t even bear to look, breathing hard through his nostrils, and it wasn’t until Margaret blurted out that she was going to climax that his eyes snapped open again. “Yes pearl, let go, let me see it!”
The storm of sensation within suddenly broke, ecstasy shooting out from her cunt to race through the rest of her body, all of her muscles tensing under its onslaught. She cried out and clutched at Rees, who was murmuring encouragements at her in a deep rasp. His velvet muzzle pressed at her cheek, and she realized he’d climbed up beside her and was holding her as her release coursed through her. She went limp in his arms, sighing through the trailing ends of blissful warmth. The phallus was discarded beside her now.
“You did so well, my beautiful pearl.”
“Thank you for that, Rees.”
“No need to thank me—that was just as much for my enjoyment as yours, remember?”
“You said not just as much.”
“I suppose that’s true, since you climaxed and I managed to hold mine back this time.”
Margaret pulled away from his chest a bit. “Now can I see?”
Rees was not worried about how she would react; his Margaret was brave and bold. “Yes,” he said, and she sat back to let him unbutton his trousers. His stiff cock sprang free.
“Oh,” Margaret breathed, and he throbbed under her gaze, but resisted the urge he felt to grab himself and stroke.
“It's close in size to the largest one in the box, you see? Just shaped normally.” The false penises had the strange shape of human or orc cocks, but his had the proper blunt, flared head and ridge around the middle.
“It's very large,” Margaret murmured, sounding more fascinated than apprehensive.
“But just as you stretched to accommodate the first phallus, you can stretch for this. I know it is possible for a human.” That was the closest he would get to saying outright that he had sheathed his cock inside human women in the past. Margaret already knew that and had no need of an explicit reminder.
“Can I touch it?”
It jerked of its own accord. “Of course. Touch any part of me you please, pearl.”
She reached out, but laid her hands on his stomach, not cock. Whether that was because she was nervous to touch his cock right away or trying to tease him, he could not say, and did not ask. She could take this at her own pace.
Even having her hands on his stomach was glorious, though. His muscles tensed under the gentle caress of her dainty fingers, and his cock leaked pre-ejaculate as his arousal climbed upwards.
“I’ve been imagining what your hands would feel like on me ever since the first time I saw you play the harp,” he rasped out, watching her hands trail over his stomach.
“Surely not that long!”
“Yes,” he huffed. “Seeing how deftly your fingers plucked those strings…I wanted your little fingers plucking at me instead.”
“And here I thought you actually enjoyed my music for its own sake,” she tutted as her fingers crept closer and closer to his cock.
“I did—I do!” he gasped. “Your music is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard! It was only that I knew you could play my instrument just as well.”
Rich laughter tumbled out of her lips, and then she finally, finally put her hand on his cock, dragging her open palm down the underside. “This instrument, you mean?”
“Yes! Oh fuck Margaret, yes, that’s what I want you to play.”
“I have no experience with this instrument, though.”
“You’re already doing marvelously,” he groaned. “But I can teach you.”
He told her to spread his slick down from the head, to wrap her hand in a tight circle, to pump up and down, making sure to drag over his ridge. Soon she was stroking him at a good pace with both of her hands together, and he couldn’t look away from the enthralling sight. Her hands were so small and delicate compared to the rough-hewn bulk of his monstrous cock. The contrast was deliciously obscene, and the sensation of her touch, soft on the surface yet firm in the commanding tenor of her movements, was incredibly erotic.
“Oh yes, just as good as I knew it would be—better, it's perfect, your hands are—fuck—sorry, can't help it,” he panted.
“I like it too. So hard and hot and slick.” Margaret's brazen speech twisted the coil of arousal even tighter in his belly, squeezing a moan out past his lips. Yet, greedy, he wanted more.
“Does it make your cunt throb to stroke my cock?”
“Yes, I'm tingling, so wet, Rees!”
Her skirts were still bunched up around her thighs, making it easy for Rees to shove a hand under to finger her dripping cunt. She cried out, but did not stop pumping her hands on his cock.
Pleasure tightened in his gut, pulling up his bollocks. “Going to spill,” he gasped, and Margaret's gaze on his cock sharpened like she could not wait to see—such a wanton expression, the last straw that broke him. He bellowed as his seed shot free in thick ropes of white, arcing up over his belly, falling down onto his groin and Margaret's pretty hands. “Fuck!” he cursed as more of it coated her skin from his throbbing cock.
Rough, panting breaths huffed from his muzzle. He still had his hand rubbing against the hot, slick flesh of Margaret's cunt. “You didn't climax again?”
She took her soiled hands off him. “No, it feels very good, but that's al—!” Her voice choked off when he tumbled her to her back, and she squealed when he shoved his mouth back onto her cunt to feverishly lick and suck at her pearl, desperate to make her release again, wanting to share in bliss with her. It took less than a minute to catapult her over the edge, and he groaned nearly as loudly as she did, delighted at bringing her such pleasure.
He flopped his head down onto the mattress, floating in the post-spend cloud of satisfaction, absently stroking Margaret's quivering thigh. After a moment, her voice cut through his haze. “I would caress you too, only my hands are a complete mess.”
“You can get the mess on me; I don't care,” he said in a languid drawl. “Or just wipe them off on the bed; I don't care about that either.”
“How slovenly you are on Sundays.”
“Mm. I would be lazy too, if I could—sleep away the whole rest of the afternoon with you in my bed, pearl.” But that was not going to be possible today. One Sunday, soon, it would be, however, and his happiness at that gave him enough energy to push himself off the mattress and assist Margaret in cleaning up.
He handed Esther’s box back to Margaret at the door. “Do not push yourself in using those, but if you can manage the last one before our wedding day…I would be very pleased. And if not…” He smiled. “I will be just as pleased to provide you with further education.”
~ 😈🎩 ~
End of chapter 14 | Master list for this fic
Hopefully it was not boring having yet another chapter of sneaky sexy times without intercourse. Yes, they are actually going to get married, I promise! The next two chapters will give you the cute romantic fluff like what we got in the flirting and Kronia chapters, as well as them finally going all the way in bed!
Taglist for this fic: @flippinsweettots, @eclaire-and-pocky
All my Regency monster stories: full master list or #my writing
Mr. Rees Sutton, a handsome minotaur gentleman, greatly enjoys the intimate company of many ladies and is happily single. When an embarrassing conversation of his is overheard by a human lady named Miss Margaret Rivier, they strike up an unlikely friendship as Rees discovers that Margaret acts nothing like the dull and meek little mouse she resembles. She has a shockingly free tongue and playful manner that quite intrigues him, and she delights in teasing him. But when Rees starts to reconsider his commitment to be a lifelong bachelor, he finds that he’ll need to make up for his promiscuous past and earn Margaret’s trust before he has any chance of happiness with her.
A playful slow burn Regency era monster romance featuring a ton of banter, teasing, and flirting, a hearty dose of mutual pining, a bachelor who said he’d never fall in love doing just that, and a giant minotaur at the mercy of a tiny human lady’s sharp wit and talented little hands.
She sat down at her harp, and Rees had to smile at the contrast created between the big, shining, bold instrument and the little dull-looking mouse seated at it. It threatened to swallow her up with its brilliance.
But then she began to play, and sing, and all the brilliance was radiating out from her.
The richness of her voice complimented the sweetness of the harp’s sound most beautifully, both twining together to create something sparkling and alive. Rees’s bull ears swiveled all the way forward, and he leaned forward in his seat to bring himself closer to the lovely music. His gaze was sharp upon Margaret as she played, but he could not fix on whether to look at her face or her hands. Both were unremarkable, normally, but now, creating such beauty out of just air and a bit of wire, they looked exquisite—the soft movement of her lips while she sang—the agile, graceful curving of her fingers and wrists as she plucked at the strings.
He finally settled on looking at her hands. He had not noticed before how elegant her fingers were. It was amazing how quickly she could move them, like they were dancing over the long sweep of strings. Unbidden, an image entered his head of those fingers dancing over the long sweep of his chest, skipping up to his neck to nimbly pluck the knot out of his cravat and tease it off his throat. A shiver ran through him at the idea. What the devil was that about?
He dismissed it, and no other strange fantasies had a chance to intrude on his mind, for her song was finished only a few moments later. He and Miss Cecilia both applauded while Margaret left her stool to come sit with them.
“Why on earth would you not like performing in front of others?” Rees asked. “That was excellent!”
“There is your compliment; now you must give me one criticism, and then we will be finished,” Margaret reminded him.
“You are too hard on poor Mr. Sutton,” Miss Cecilia scolded. “Can’t you see how much he wishes to praise you?”
“That is precisely why I do not like performing in front of others.”
“Praise embarrasses you?” Rees asked. It surprised him. She did not seem at all like a shy person.
“No—it bores me.”
Rees let out a huff of surprised laughter. “Bores you! What is boring about hearing compliments?”
“They are rehearsed and insincere social niceties that have little meaning. A good story is something I should much rather hear.”
“Overhear, you mean,” Rees said.
“Ideally, yes,” she said with an unapologetic smile. “That is when people are most honest: when they think no one can hear them except for the one person they are confiding in. Those are the stories most worth hearing.”
A hearty laugh boomed out of the minotaur. “At least you are honest about your impolite habit.”
She shrugged. “I am not ashamed of simply hearing what is said around me. I rarely take an active effort to eavesdrop; people simply fail to notice me near them.”
“That ‘rarely’ is very telling,” Rees drawled. “And when you do take an active effort to do it?”
“Well, I suppose neither one of us can claim to be a saint,” she said with her eyes glittering.
Summary for this chapter: Glimpses at Rees and Margaret at the first five annual Kronia festivals during their marriage.
Tags for this chapter: NSFW 🌶️, p in v 🍆, standing outdoor semi-public sex 🌳, creampie 💦, a bit of horn play 😈, size difference 💕, praise 👏, a bit of face sitting (f receiving) 👅, breeding 👶, mentions of pregnancy and babies 🤰, fluff 🐑, Garek and Esther cameos
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“I have been waiting five years for this,” Rees groaned as he flexed his hips to push his cock farther up into his wife. “Finally!”
“Five years!” Margaret exclaimed, her breath catching as he thrust again. “F-for what?”
“To fuck you at the Kronia.”
He was bouncing her on his cock, standing in a wooded area on the grounds, secluded but still close enough to hear sounds of the merry-making at the big minotaur festival.
Margaret laughed. “What is so special about doing it at the Kronia?”
“Are you in jest?” He snorted and snapped his hips up, making her yelp. “You must know how gorgeous you look in your festival clothing, with your poppies on your head…” He nosed at the red petals crowning her hair, fluttering so prettily with every thrust he made up into her body. “My God, nghh, Margaret, you're irresistible like this.”
“Apparently not, since you have resisted for five years,” Margaret teased.
“The first year we weren't married, and every year since—nngfh, hell!—every year since, there's been something else in the way…”
Year 1 after marrying
He did not think this could have ever been possible, but Margaret looked even more beautiful at this second Kronia than she did at her first.
For one thing, there was that gorgeous golden ring beneath her nose this time, glinting in the sunlight, proclaiming to everyone how proud she was to be married to a minotaur. Ten months she had worn that nose ring, but Rees still had not gotten over the fact that she had done this for him. Other humans routinely gave her strange looks for it, but she never cared.
For another thing, Margaret held herself with so much more confidence this year. The first Kronia, she had been uneasy about being one of the very few humans in attendance, and still accustomed to blending in all the time. Now, she knew many of these minotaurs as acquaintances if not friends, and Rees loved watching her talk and laugh with so many different people.
But the most notable difference that made her so much more beautiful than the first time was her heavily rounded belly. Rees loved looking at it, knowing she was growing his baby. Or babies. They both suspected she was carrying twins, both by how enormous her belly was and by feeling across its surface every time there was movement within, trying to get a sense of how many tiny limbs were inside. (Oh, how exciting it was to feel those kicks! It made Rees grin every time.) Plus, Margaret herself was a twin, and the physician said it sometimes repeated in family lines.
Rees almost felt guilty about the pregnancy lately, seeing the strain it put on her tiny body, his little mouse. But he knew she was much stronger than she looked, and he did everything he could to make things easier on her—hiring extra help in their house, rubbing her sore back and hips, carrying her about from room to room while she laughed at how preposterous he was to treat her so delicately. He had not even wanted her to come to the Kronia this year, but she had insisted on it, and she pretty much always got her way with him.
At least she was sitting down as they listened to the music and watched the dancers. He stood next to her, resting his hand on her shoulder protectively, his thumb rubbing over the back of her neck. Faintly, he could hear her humming along to the music, and he spent most of the performance looking down at her rather than the performers.
She craned her head up to catch him gazing at her, and rewarded him with a beautiful smile. “Next year, you and I will be up there dancing once again,” she said.
He stroked a knuckle over her cheek. “I look forward to that, pearl.”
Year 2
It was the next year. They were not up there dancing.
Instead, Margaret was seated in the group of musicians, playing the lyre.
“Look at Mama,” Rees said to his boys, one balanced on each hip. “She's making the music. Isn't she amazing?”
The babies reached their chubby, furry hands toward her, but they didn't fuss for their mama, just made happy, excited sounds as they bounced in Rees's arms. Margaret smiled at them as she played; she thought it was very kind of them to watch her when there were far more exciting things to see at the Kronia, and she loved that her babies already loved music, like her.
Their presence put her at ease. Generally, she still did not like performing for an audience outside of her family. For all the confidence she had gained in the last two years, she was still herself, after all, still a more private, subdued person than someone loud and boisterous like Rees. But, the lyre-player who was supposed to perform today had fallen ill, and Margaret had grown skilled enough at the lyre over the last two years to take the place of the sick player.
Rees felt such a swelling of pride and love in his chest as he watched her and listened to the lovely music she produced out of thin air. She was so talented, his Margaret.
“We are very lucky to have your Mama, you know that?” Rees said to his sons.
He knew that they did; they adored her as much as he. She made a splendid mother, singing sweetly to their boys, soothing their hurts, playing with their little tails and ears, all three of them laughing together—oh, there was nothing better than that sound to Rees!
And honestly, Rees felt that he was not half bad as a father either. It was a role he had never thought of taking on when he was young, but he treasured his calves and loved spending time with them.
Rees gave them each a kiss on the forehead. “I am so glad you are here with me, boys.”
Year 3
“We should have just left the boys at home with the nurse,” Rees muttered under his breath as he practically dragged his whining sons after him through the crowd. He loved them dearly, but goodness, they could be obstinate little creatures! More and more so, in fact, as they approached their second birthday. And today it had been one outburst from them after another.
“I doubt we would have any more fun without them,” Margaret drawled, looking up at the drizzly sky that had already made their clothing damp, the poppies atop her head limp, and the ground a mess of mud. The bull-leaping had been called off for safety since the leapers could slip, as had some other events and performances. It was certainly more difficult to enjoy the Kronia in weather like this.
“Oh, I can think of a way to have fun without them,” Rees said with a surreptitious pat on her bottom. It made her jump, and that made him grin. He could never stay glum or annoyed for long.
Margaret looked at him from the side of her eyes, trying not to smile. “You already had your fun this morning…minotaur,” she purred in a low voice. His stomach tightened; she only called him that when she was pretending to have dominion over him in their bedroom. “Need I remind you how I sat atop—”
“Shh!” His tail whipped at the air behind him. “The boys are right here, are you mad?”
She smiled, triumphant at flustering him. “They will not know what the words even mean.”
“Any of the hundred adults around us would know.”
“I was whispering; no one would hear me.”
“You know better than anyone that there are always spies about, who are very skilled at hearing quiet, private conversations that are none of their business whatsoever.”
Margaret broke and laughed then. “You know I was not really going to say it aloud.”
He thought back to that morning, laying upon his back, his vision filled completely with Margaret’s naked form from atop his muzzle, his mouth filled completely with her taste as he licked up into her sweet cunt. She had run her hands up and down his horns, tracing the sensitive carvings, while saying such thrilling, scandalous things to him, that he had spent onto his belly without touching himself. And then, she had scolded him for that so deliciously that he had grown hard all over again, only to be denied another release by her. Oh, it had been divine.
“Yes, I know you would not actually say what happened this morning. Where is Cecilia?”
Margaret arched her brows at him. “That is a strange change of topic.”
“It is not. We are going to leave the boys with her for an hour so that you may continue where you left off this morning.”
“Here? Where could we possibly…” She did not finish her sentence because the fine drizzle around them strengthened into a full rain, and within the space of a minute or two, water was dumping down on them in sheets while they ran for shelter, Rees holding the boys under his coat.
And not long after that, they had decided to just go home.
That night, Margaret continued where she had left off that morning, as Rees had wanted at the Kronia, but in the comfort of their bedroom.
Oh well. There was always the next Kronia.
Year 4
Their third son was only 12 days old on the date of the next Kronia. Understandably, Rees and Margaret did not attend, but stayed home to lay about with their newborn.
Margaret had forgotten how enthralling it was simply to look upon her husband holding a tiny sleeping baby against his massive chest, his face wearing an expression of weariness yet contentment.
It was hot enough that the baby was not wrapped tightly, and one of his tiny, soft-furred feet had worked its way free of the blanket. Rees touched his fingertip to the toes that were no bigger than beans, and his ears lifted in delight. “I adore these,” he said quietly.
He had felt the same about the toes on their first two babies: amused and charmed that they had human-shaped feet like their mother instead of hooves like him. And Margaret, in turn, was charmed that he was charmed.
She rose up beside him on the sofa to kiss the side of his muzzle, making his ear twitch on that side. “Being a father suits you,” she murmured. His energetic personality made him an excellent playmate for their older boys, who were nearly three years old and never seemed to stop moving, but surprisingly, he did just as well in these serene moments of fatherhood as well.
He turned his head to gently bump his nose against hers. “Thank you for making me one. Again.”
“Even though it meant we had to miss this year's Kronia?”
He huffed air from his nostrils. “This is a hundred times better than any festival. All that noise and sun and heat.”
Margaret let out a quiet chuckle. “You love noise and sun and heat.”
He bent his head to touch his lips gently to the top of his calf’s fuzzy head. “Not as much as this.”
Margaret’s heart squeezed in her chest, and she thought this might be as close to heaven on earth as one could get.
Year 5
“It is hot as hell on earth out here,” Garek complained under his breath, low enough to not be heard over the noise of all the children about. “You cannot be comfortable in this heat,” he then declared loudly from where he hovered over his seated wife. His broad orc body provided enough shadow to cover her smaller human form, and she had a fan to cool herself, but still he fretted.
“I am perfectly comfortable,” Esther assured him.
“You need another cushion.” He twisted to quickly look about the area that had been set up for families to picnic at the Kronia. The Suttons had invited the Skrof family to join them at the festival this year, and Garek was beginning to regret accepting.
Esther laid her hand on his arm, her eyes bright with amusement. “Garek. I am well.”
“What has gotten into you?” Rees laughed at his friend. “You are even more overbearing than usual, which is saying something.”
Garek's tusks pulled down in a fierce frown. “My mate needs to be protected,” he growled.
“At a picnic with friends?” Rees laughed again.
They were a large, merry group amongst the crowd of minotaur families at the Kronia that year. The Suttons’ twins, now almost four years old, ran about yelling and laughing with the Skrofs’ daughter of a similar age, all three children occasionally leaping onto Rees's back so he could wrestle them off and hold them down to tickle them as they shrieked with laughter. The Skrofs’ son, two years old, sat on the ground stacking wooden blocks and then knocking them down with violent glee, while the Suttons’ younger son, only one year old, watched from his mama’s lap in wide-eyed fascination. Margaret idly played with his soft little tail while she chatted with her sister Cecilia.
“Yes, even here,” Garek practically growled at Rees. “What kind of a mate would I be if I did not protect her everywhere?”
Esther sighed with a roll of her eyes. “Stop antagonizing our friends,” she said to her husband, then turned her face toward Margaret and Rees. “I suppose I should tell you that he is acting like this because I am expecting again.”
“Oh, what splendid news!” Margaret exclaimed. “I am so happy for you, dear!” Cecilia offered her warm wishes as well.
Rees stood so he could slap Garek on the back. “Congratulations, my friend! Trying to catch up to me, eh?”
Garek made a disgruntled huff. “It has nothing to do with you, you ridiculous fool.”
Rees barked out a laugh. “You really are in a foul mood!”
Garek just thrust his jaw out and growled at him.
Rees grabbed for Margaret's hand and hauled her to her feet with him. “Come, pearl, I think I have angered him, and I will need your protection while we make our escape. Leave the children; it's only me he's after.”
Garek rolled his eyes, muttering, “Absurd minotaur.”
Esther waved her hand at Margaret. “Listen to your husband; get him away from this unreasonable orc. Cecilia and I will look after the children.”
Garek made a gruff noise as he looked down at Esther. “You're taking his side?”
“There are no sides; I'm merely trying to spare you the irritation of his teasing, like the loving wife that I am,” she crooned with a smirk.
While she spoke, Cecilia took the baby from her sister and made a shooing motion at her. “Go, go, enjoy yourselves, the children are alright with us.”
Margaret and Rees escaped before they had to hear too much more of the Skrofs squabbling.
And that was how they ended up alone in the wooded area with Margaret held in Rees's arms as he thrust up into her.
“Is it as good as you hoped?” Margaret panted. After five years of fantasizing about fucking her at the Kronia, he must have built up quite lofty expectations of how agreeable it would feel.
“Better,” he grunted. “Because I'm going to plant a baby inside you, my love.”
The heat thrumming in her veins leapt up at that, like pouring spirits into an open flame, and she clenched around him. “You are?”
“Yes.” His tail thrashed behind him, punctuating his sharp thrusts into her cunt. “Breed you with m’ seed, make another calf.”
“I didn't think—aghh!—you were so competitive, mmm, with Garek,” Margaret struggled to get out.
“Not about him,” Rees huffed. It excited Margaret when his speech deteriorated like this, as it did so rarely, and always meant he was absolutely wild with ardor for her. “Jus’—reminded me—ohhh you're so beautiful carrying my calf. Gorgeous. Strong. My perfect wife.”
Margaret tipped her head back, letting the irresistible warmth of his praise wash over her. He always made her feel not only valued but adored. Most people would not consider her noteworthy or beautiful, but she knew he sincerely believed it about her down into his bones. To him, she was stunning, because he loved her.
He was bouncing her on his cock too wildly for her to keep her mouth on his lips to kiss him, so she showed her gratitude for his love by reaching up to slide her hand along one of his sensitive horns. A groan rumbled free of his throat. She wrapped her fingers around the horn to tug it, making him groan again and spit out a curse.
“You'll make me—too soon—” he panted. “Y’ have to—first.”
He strode forward to push her back against a tree trunk, barely missing a beat in the rhythm of his thrusting as he did so. As soon as she was against it, however, he gentled his movements somewhat, not wanting to hurt her against the rough wood. But with the support of the tree, he could free one arm from around her back to shove his hand between them and rub at her slick, swollen pearl.
“Let go for me, my pearl. Finish on my fingers and cock. Then I can fill you with my seed, nghh, swell up your belly with my young again.”
Margaret clutched tight to Rees's waistcoat like it could steady her through this storm of sensation overtaking her body. Her heart raced, jagged breaths stung her throat, her cunt throbbed, slick poured down her arse, and all of it was because of Rees, her beloved husband. He was massive before her, filling her entire field of vision, his impossibly broad shoulders straining against his shirt and tendons in his neck standing taut as he fucked her. He was raw power—and yet he held it in check to ensure she was not hurt, and funneled all the rest of it directly into her, into pleasuring her, worshipping her body. She felt tiny but treasured in his hold, her protector and partner, and it was this adoration for him that carried her over the peak of her release. She cried out his name as it consumed her entire body.
Rees thrilled at the sight and feeling of his Margaret coming apart because of him. He would never tire of it. Once, he had thought he would never marry precisely because he expected to tire of each lover after little time, but with Margaret, he knew he never would. Nothing compared to the joy of sharing this with her.
He chased after her release to add his own to it, pulling her away from the tree again so it would not scrape her back as he increased his pace and force, clenching his arse to drive his cock hard into her cunt, his hands swallowing up her entire tiny waist as he worked her body up and down along his shaft.
She opened her eyes to smile at him, making his balls throb with the need to give everything to her. Her delicate little fingers that always captivated him when she played the harp danced over the side of his muzzle softly, then suddenly she hooked one in his nose ring and tugged down on it. “Fill me now,” she commanded.
He burst with a bellow, hilting her down hard on his cock as it shot his seed into her womb in waves of bliss. His head spun, no, the whole world seemed to spin for a moment, but he kept his footing and his secure hold on Margaret. She pressed herself into his chest, murmuring encouragements as his release worked through him.
“Oh, pearl,” he sighed when he was completely spent, and squeezed his arms around her. “That was glorious.”
“Yes, darling,” she agreed, her eyes gleaming with love and satisfaction.
It was hard for her to stand straight when he set her down, her knees wobbling, but he kept a firm hold on her arms, and once she was steady, he released one hand to brush away the bits of bark and leaves on her back and do his best to smooth out her crumpled dress. She used his handkerchief to wipe up his seed that was leaking out onto her thighs.
“Well, now that you have accomplished this goal of taking me at the Kronia, I suppose you will have nothing left to look forward to in our marriage,” Margaret said, her eyes sparkling in a way that told Rees she was teasing.
Still, he snorted and shook his head. “I will never run out of things to look forward to with you. There's this”—he smoothed his hand over her belly, where he hoped his seed was already taking root—“for one thing, and even if that should come to nothing, I will not care, as long as I have the privilege of hearing your laugh every day. And”—he looped his arms around her back to pull her hips into his—“as exciting as this was, I get just as much pleasure in our bed where I have had you hundreds of times and will have you thousands more.”
“I look forward to those ordinary things with you as well,” Margaret said.
“Ordinary! You find it merely ordinary how I pleasure you?”
Rich laughter tumbled free of Margaret's mouth. “That is not what I meant—but, if the perceived slight drives you to try even harder to please me, I do not regret saying it.”
He swatted his tail against her legs. “You are very hard on me, little wife.”
She patted his muscled chest. “Yes, but you are a big, strong monster, so you can bear it.”
“I will bear anything for you, Margaret.”
She gazed up at him, at the beautiful swirling carvings on his horns that he'd had done in tribute to her, bearing the pain of the carving, the embarrassment of having everyone see them before he even knew if she would ever marry him. Even when she and he argued, she could always look at those and know it would all be well between them, because his love for her would never fade, just as hers for him would not.
A glowing smile overspread her face and sparkled in her eyes. “I know you will, my darling Rees.”
~ 😈🎩 ~
End of chapter 17 and fic | Master list for this fic
OK this really is the ending now. Though of course, if anyone requests a vignette about them or I get inspired by a writing event, I might write more little bonus snippets occasionally.
If you enjoyed this story, I would love to hear from you, in a comment or ask!
Thank you to everyone who shared kind words about this story as it went along! I dearly appreciated all of your comments, and they helped get me through to the end 💕
Taglist for this fic: @flippinsweettots, @eclaire-and-pocky
All my Regency monster stories: full master list or #my writing
