
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13605099.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Original_Work
  Relationship:
      Original_Female_Character/Original_Male_Character
  Character:
      Original_Male_Character(s), Minotaur, Original_Female_Character(s)_of
      Color
  Additional Tags:
      Size_Kink, Size_Difference, Large_Cock, Intercrural_Sex, Massage, Bath
      Sex, Age_Difference, Horse_cock, Height_Differences, Virginity, 11th
      Century, Jewelry, Interspecies_Sex, Tsunderes, Older_Man/Younger_Woman,
      Lolicon, Fantasy, Erotica, Indonesia, Indonesian_Character, Non-
      Penetrative_Sex
  Collections:
      Chocolate_Box_-_Round_3
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-02-07 Words: 4012
****** Hero Material ******
by theway
Summary
     A Minotaur adventurer completes his latest quest for a certain
     Sumatran king and is greeted with great hospitality. For Chocolate
     Box Round 3; requested pairing: "Minotaur/Female Human".
Notes
     Hey there, Nary-senpai. This is my first time taking part in an
     exchange, so hopefully I didn't mess up. This is the only fandom and
     pairing pairing we had in common! I feel I could've done it more
     justice if our interests intersected more, but that's part of the fun
     in random matching. My interpretation of the Minotaur's looks is more
     "modern fantasy" than Minoan canon, because I just like it better. I
     was torn on how how many niche interests I should include, since I'm
     not writing for myself. January blues were a struggle. I've actually
     visited and am somewhat familiar with Knossos; author reveal will
     surely give you a chuckle. This fic takes place in a fantasy-
     flavoured 11th century Srivijayan kingdom, an almost-forgotten Malay
     thalassocracy. Enjoy!
     Something something check the tags something something squick
     prevention.
     This work is an oneshot, so it won’t receive updates. To receive
     notifications about new works and chapters, you can subscribe to this
     RSS_feed or my_profile.
See the end of the work for more notes
He didn't know which was the bigger surprise: the Minotaur walking into the
throne room as if it were the most casual, everyday occurrence, or the massive
leather sack he was carrying. The Srivijayan king wondered if one could fit a
cow inside, and after some thought, he decided the answer was “yes”, if the cow
had eaten another cow beforehand. That he could walk with such a massive thing
weighing down on him was nothing short of impressive, but then again, he was
fairly large himself: eight feet of muscle and bone, making any soldier in his
command look like a scrawny teenager. It still inspired some reasonable fear in
him, even though he'd hired him.
Xenos was an adventurer, after all, and running interesting errands was both
the entire point and also financing further adventures. He hadn't expected him
to return so soon, but to be fair, he'd given him a very tall order, so perhaps
this was his way of calling it quits. The beast-man stopped some distance from
him and rested his “luggage” on the floor.
“I'm done,” he said. The king didn't respond, his grimace sufficient for
communicating his confusion. “Ah, right, sorry.” Of course, the sack hid its
contents, as did all sacks. After some moving and kicking and fumbling about,
the large thing literally rolled out: a Nāga's head. This summoned both cheers
and screams; a very polarised reaction. It ruined the mood he was trying to set
with his victory pose, arms outstretched, smug satisfaction on his face.
In retrospect, the head looked like a giant woman's head when detached from its
snake body. He thought it was pretty funny, actually, like a really big
reptilian sock monster… Now it came across more macabre than trophy.
“Ah! You're done!” he repeated, sounding a little silly. “Wow, I… I didn't
actually you'd do it so soon—or at all. That's… Um, could you…?” He motioned at
the huge head on the floor, and Xenos promptly dropped the sack over it again.
“It was pretty tough, not gonna lie. Why, when it lunged at me and bit me, it
raised me in the air, and—” His reenactment had to be cut short, for as much
interest the tale of his conquest aroused, the fairer half of the court was
still squeamish. “It was easy to find, what with its size and all.” Pissing it
off might have had something to do with it, but nobody had to know about that.
“You have my congratulations, and my thanks.” And his money, no doubt. “You
must be hungry and tired—please make yourself at home. My servants will make
the proper arrangements.” He snapped his fingers towards someone in the
distance, then pointed back at the covered-up head.
“Oh, uh, I also brought its skin. It's outside, in a cart. Thought it might
make good armour or a carpet or…” People found that very weird, apparently.
“I'll go now. Yeah.” He headed for a door, but it was the wrong one; he was
pointed in the right direction. “Sorry.” More cringeworthy than gallant: true
hero material.
===============================================================================
A few hours and a lot of food later, past awkwardness was a very faint memory.
Xenos hadn't eaten properly in a few days, and he needed a lot of nutrition to
maintain his size, so he didn't take the king's hospitality lightly. At first,
it was entertaining how he ate a meal for two, then three, but a couple hours
and eight people in, the cooks stopped seeing the funny side and began feeling
worried about running out of raw materials. It was funny for him, at least,
seeing their faith in humanity gradually evaporate. Perhaps he shouldn't have
been such a tease, but then again perhaps they shouldn't have been such
enjoyable targets for his teasing.
After the feast, he cleaned himself, and was now lying down and relaxing on
some sort of table in the royal bath. He hadn't seen anything quite like it—all
of the royal grounds signalled a mind-boggling affluence, really. For one, the
actual bath portion of it was very large. It felt like a waste spoiling the
water with the blood and dirt he'd accumulated, so he'd scrubbed himself
outside. It was partially open, so the gardens on the outside were plainly
visible, and the sounds of wildlife came through uninterrupted. In was pretty
high up there in his top ten list of most impractical constructions. For
cleaning, that is; undoubtedly the girls that won the king's affections
would've had different ideas.
Ah, how long had it been since he had a cute lass?
The door opened behind him very slowly, trying to minimise noise. The footsteps
that followed it were likewise faint, skin on polished stone. From their
perspective, it probably looked like he was sleeping. He was all pranked out
for a day, so he broke the ice.
“Good evening,” he said.
“Ah! G-good evening!” He could hear her jumping in surprise—they were a she,
what with the high-pitched voice. “I didn't wake you up, did I? Have you been
enjoying your time?” He didn't turn to look, or make any motions for that
matter. He was there to chill out, not to ogle at ladies.
“No, it's all been great. Couldn't have asked for more.”
“You've earned it. You must be very strong; even the Mahārāja was surprised. I
haven't heard of anyone taking one of them head on and coming out alive.”
“It was fairly close, to be honest.” He tried shrugging, his back still aching
a bit from the aftermath. “If I hadn't—ah, maybe you don't want to hear about
it?”
“No, do tell!”
“It was fairly easy to find. Being a big fat snake tends to leave its mark, so
I followed the trail. I screamed some obscenities at it to get its attention.
That might not have been the best idea, as it came straight at me. I jumped
over its tail just fine, but it bit me.”
“Oh my! That must've hurt real bad!”
“The head is mostly human, so it could've been worse.”
“How did you break free?”
“I kicked.” She didn't anticipate that reaction, so she burst out laughing, and
it leaked to him. “No, really! It opened its mouth to scream, and it flung me
in the air as a result. I came down swinging, torque and gravity combined right
on its skull, and that was it.”
“You seem like a very resourceful adventurer, sir Xenos,” she said amidst
chuckles.
“I'm no royalty.”
“You're still a bit hurt from that, aren't you? Would you like a massage?”
“Uh…” His initial urge was to say no, but he'd never tried it before, never
mind being offered one. Plus, she probably wasn't here just to chat with him,
and people might take it the wrong way if he turned it down. “Sure, go ahead.”
She placed her hands near his spine, and put light pressure on the muscles
surrounding it. Soft, warm, and tiny; definitely more elegant than his. She was
exploring, he noticed, trying to figure out exactly how alien his body was. Fur
notwithstanding, she found him mostly familiar, and so applied more pressure.
“Ah!” he shouted out, surprised by her strength.
“You have a very strange name. You must come from very far away. Were you
always an adventurer?”
“No, um, uh—” It was getting difficult concentrating as every muscle on his
back was painfully untangled. The humans over here were more dangerous than
their snake monsters. “I was in the Roman Emperor's armies for a long time.
After we handed him Bulgaria on a silver platter, I called it quits and went my
own way.” She'd found his shoulders and was making her way up to his neck. At
least it was less painful. “Dying on some nameless battlefield or settling
down, farm and woman by my side didn't appeal to me. I was curious what the
world had to offer.”
“A soldier, then. That's why you're so well-trained.”
“More like a mercenary, because of the whole, well, looking different.” She
hummed, then sat on him as if it was the most natural thing in the world,
trying to find a better angle. She jingled as she moved; jewellery, perhaps? In
her new position, she dug her fingers closer to his spine and traced its
length. “Xenos isn't even my real name. My family's in Crete—an island very far
to the west, beyond the Caliphate—so I've been called ‘stranger’ everywhere I
went. It stuck at some point. That's what it means.”
“Better own up to it than fight it?” she thought aloud.
“I think so—ohhh!” She made her way to his lower back, and every time she
touched something, his legs moved around in random directions. “What about you?
What's your name?”
“I'm Mira. My life isn't as interesting as yours; I merely serve the Mahārāja.”
“You can't be half-bad if he's taken a liking to you.”
“No, I— Wait.” She paused for a moment as the implication dawned on her. “Y-you
got it all wrong!” she said as she exacted her revenge on his behind, though
she was barely audible due to Xenos' yelling. “I'll have you know I'm still a
maiden, sir.”
“I'm no siii—ah, no—!”
“I don't think I'm his type,” she said, her dispassion a comical contrast to
his pained wails. “I think it's because I'm not very fair. He seems to prefer
paler girls, from what I've seen.”
“I take it back, I take it back! You're boring and uninspiring!” Xenos was
pleading, unable to focus on her musings.
“Ah, yes, sorry. I got carried away.” She made it sound like she had
accidentally stumbled upon tearing him into a thousand pieces. Like it was as
minute as sneezing in the wrong direction. “Wait,” she paused once more as that
implication, too, revealed itself. Before long, she was stepping on him, giving
him a massage with her feet, supported by her full weight, his suffering paced
by her questioning: “Is that how your mother taught you to treat ladies?”
He could've explained how a roaming herd of cow-warriors didn't exactly have
chivalry and decorum in their top priorities, but he didn't think that would
have helped his case. Besides, he didn't have the fortitude to articulate a
sentence that complex.
After ten minutes, he felt like all of his energy had been stripped out. “I'm
so terribly sorry. I don't know what got into me. Are you alright?” Mira
apologised. He couldn't tell if it was genuine or if she was pulling his leg;
either way, there were multiple personalities in her, like a child-eating
abomination parents used to scare their kids into sleeping early.
“It's alright. It's better now, I think,” he groaned, not quite sure himself.
All tissue on his back felt like it had been disintegrated, but also looser in
a sense. He didn't want to think about it too much, lest she experience further
emotional explosions in his vicinity.
“Would you like to have a dip?”
“Would be nice…” He sighed. He was feeling very drowsy, but sleeping like that
in the open was probably not the brightest idea. True, it was very hot and
humid, but should a breeze manifest overnight, he'd wake up stiff as a rock and
would have to go through this ordeal all over again. He got up and made his way
to the bath; he couldn't submerge himself very far in it due to his height, but
at least his lower half appreciated it.
“Ah, that's the stuff,” he said, leaning back and enjoying his newfound
flexibility. That massage stuff had been nightmare fuel, but he couldn't argue
with results. Why, he felt like he could take on a battalion! “You should come
join. There's room for a small village here.”
“Then I shall.” She jingled her way beside him, close enough for the ripples to
be felt. Curious, he turned to see her for the first time, the mysterious girl
who couldn't decide if she fancied torturing him or not.
He tried not to gasp. As she'd said, she was brown-skinned, like most commoners
in the region. It wasn't very fashionable with the upper classes, but he found
a certain exotic allure to it. It was all the more presentable in this humid
environment, the evening sun reflecting off the droplets on her body. And there
was a lot of it on display, as her attire left little to the imagination; the
jewellery he'd been hearing wasn't just decorative, but the only thing on her.
Around her neck, her chest, her waist…
“What?” she said, blushing under his investigative gaze. “Is there something on
me?” She brushed her hair, trying to fend off an imaginary bug. Then, more
awkwardly, “If I'm not to your li—”
“It isn't that,” he reassured her. It was a whole other matter entirely.
“Aren't you a little young for this?” There, he said it. She couldn't have
looked older than—
“Huh?” she panned. “I'll have you know I'm—”
“Yes, far too young. A grown-up would never reveal her age like that.”
She splashed him with water as he giggled at his explanation. “You're still
looking,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest, frowning. The
gesture was kind of useless, since there was very little to hide; she couldn't
have been much older than 13. Still, she wasn't lying. He was looking at her,
which he blamed on how long it had been since he'd had feminine company. A very
shallow rationalisation.
“For a man your size, you sure squeal like a little girl,” she teased him.
He fired back, “Oh yeah? Your touch has all the elegance of an ogre, miss
innocent maiden.”
“Careful now; there's more where that came from.” One more splash, and another.
He knew what she was up to, trying to get him to come at her. If he resisted,
he'd be a wuss, and if he didn't, he'd prove her point. He had no one to blame
but himself for this conundrum. Outsmarted by a teenager; hero material in full
display once more.
As she raised her hand for another watery attack, he rushed towards her and
took hold of it mid-motion. Mira's playful exterior fell apart immediately, one
could even say strategically, sensuality taking its place. Like that, she
turned the atmosphere tense in mere seconds. Looking down on her, deep in her
dark eyes, her effect on him was palpable, undeniable; she inspired alien
fascination in the stranger. The little girl, catching the large Minotaur
defenceless, raised a hand to his abdomen, his muscles well defined even
through the fur. Then lower, on his thigh…
He really shouldn't be doing this, letting her manipulate him like that.
Nevertheless, he couldn't ignore their chemistry; he hadn't had so much fun
interacting with someone in a very long time. He felt like he had a fairly good
idea of her as a person, and he knew that if he turned her down now, there
would be more than momentary offence. Perhaps it was a poor justification, but
he didn't want to give the girl any grief.
He let go of her arm and touched her cheek instead. She was so soft and tiny,
his hand almost as large as her head. There wasn't a single blemish on her, her
darker skin tone contrasting so well with her lips. How would they feel like?
He'd never been with a child before; would she taste any different? He lowered
his head to try, slowly, so that his horns wouldn't get in the way. A little
peck at first, testing if she had any second thoughts.
She was far less apprehensive. Moments after his touch, she jutted her tongue
out, begging for entry. Xenos' animal anatomy made it a bit tricky, but soon
enough they were kissing, or at least as close to it as she could manage. It
was sloppy and inelegant, but not without its charms, and eventually he
returned the favour, entering the girl's mouth instead. Hot, wet, and tiny, she
tasted far better than he could've imagined. He raised his hands to her cheeks
and neck, surrounding her head with his touch as he had his way with her.
With his hands focused on her face, she directed hers towards his groin. She
wrapped her fingers around his semi-erect cock and gently stroked its length,
examining the unfamiliar organ; his sheath, his flare, his sheer size. It was
only natural for someone of his build, but she was still taken aback. He was
already far larger than any man could possibly be, and still inflating. It made
her slightly anxious, about what it would do to her body, but also curious, in
a strange way; a fascination with his unique features.
When he broke the kiss, she stepped back, outside the bath. Water still
dripping from her limbs, she began taking off the assortment of gold that
covered up her more private parts. She didn't hurry, instead taking her time to
tease him, to incite his imagination, and a lust for her body. Her movements
were elegant and practised, exuding as much femininity in motion as they did in
looks.
He followed her outside, his now fully erect member hanging between his legs
like a third limb. The size was far more formidable to the eye than to her
touch; he could see that she was having some doubts. He found himself very
partial to her developing body; her small chest complimented by her still-
filling hips, itself drawing attention to her strong, long legs, decorated by
traces of water. He wondered how the king could resist her charms, and what
sort of prejudice clouded his judgement. This foreign seductress had cast her
magic on him.
Approaching her, he kissed her on her forehead, her cheek, and on her lips. His
cock was hanging between them, and he noticed her gaze drifting there. He went
closer to her, pushing her so she would lie down, then rested it on top of her
stomach so she could take a closer look. The footlong shaft could reach all the
way to her sternum, and was as wide as her arm, and half over again. Clearly,
this wasn't going to work, unless she had a death wish. Her small, puffy pussy
was rife with inexperience and youth, no matter how much she denied it.
She touched it with her fingertips, etching its strange shape and angles in
memory. The way the veins meshed, the way it throbbed with arousal. She looked
up at him with a questioning gaze.
“Don't worry. There's other ways to go on,” he said.
“I'm sorry. I didn't think…,” she trailed off, interrupted by his touch; he was
fondling her barely present chest, and playing with her dark nipples. “I'm a
bit too small for you.”
He put his hands under her and picked her up. She was as light as she was
small, trivial to manhandle. His arms were almost as wide as her abdomen; if he
wanted to, he could snap her in half like a chopstick. Their size difference
exaggerated the incompatibility of their species, a taboo they were about to
commit, but it also excited them both. Him, holding something beautiful and
fragile, and her being held by someone large and powerful, sexuality blending
in with visceral mammalian protectiveness, some perverse familial bond.
He guided her to an appropriate position, turning her around, her back against
his chest now, her legs almost completely closed. He finished the puzzle by
placing his cock between her thighs, surrounded in three different directions
by her limbs and her vulva, a certain wetness dripping from it that couldn't
just be residual water. She understood, then, what they were going to do, and
how it would work, simultaneously relieved and disappointed that there couldn't
be penetration.
Leaning in to her, he kissed her ear, as his hands reached for her chest once
more, groping her from behind. He moved his hips involuntarily, enjoying the
friction of his flesh against hers. She was so warm and soft and tiny, her body
just the right balance of fat and muscle to make their strange act pleasant.
Her youth, though initially off-putting, had now captivated him with her
charms. He couldn't get enough of touching her, especially her chest, where her
age was most evident; she was turning him into a pervert.
His movements widened, more and more of his length “penetrating” the small gap
between her legs and her pelvis. It came as a surprise to her, but she also
found it stimulating, the subtle texture of his cock rubbing against her
sensitive parts. As his arousal increased, so did his pace, forming a cycle
with her own arousal and dripping lubrication making their contact easier,
smoother.
She could hear him breathing heavily right next to her, could smell his
masculine but not quite human body odour. He did, too; he touched her neck,
smelled her hair, taking in as much as he could from the little girl. She was
so cute and small, her skin such a nice complexion it looked edible. He could
lay her down and lick every corner of her body for hours and not get enough of
it.
He pumped in and out of her with such force now that their bodies smacked
loudly at the end of each stroke. She pressed her thighs closer together,
turning the flesh pocket tighter, increasing pleasure for both of them. She was
trying to hold it back, but her excitement was audible now; soft, girlish moans
breaking out, impossible to contain. Though his size prevented normal
intercourse, it worked wonders for this, his enormous length making touch much
more enjoyable.
“Don't hold it in,” he whispered. “It's beautiful.”
“F-fuck me. More…,” she requested, and who was he to deny her? He let her down,
resting her on her hands and knees, and resumed his pistoning. In that
position, it really looked like they were fucking. He looked at the flexing of
her back muscles, at the outline of her spine, at the pair of dimples right
above her small, tight butt. His cock was soaked in her vaginal fluids, and
blazing hot from the friction, a strong, deep urge telling him to keep going,
to seek out more of this pleasure.
He groped her butt, squeezing her immature flesh; soft and immaculate. Her
tiny, puckered anus visible as he spread her arse, twitching like a sex organ.
He didn't know why, but it was intensely arousing looking at her dirty hole,
something most private and intimate. His thumb had a life of its own, reaching
for it, stroking the entrance, feeling the ridges of her dark flesh.
“Ah!” she yelled, her moaning reaching the highest volume yet. He could sense
her leg muscles tensing up and loosening in wild patterns, and her back
shivering with excitement; her climax, or very close to it. He lowered himself
as well, supporting his weight on his elbows, maximising skin contact between
their bodies, and pumped as fast and hard as he could. Moments later, his own
climax: his tip flared, his testicles tightened, and his semen came pouring out
with high pressure, dropping to the floor.
After a few seconds of ecstasy, it was over, and Xenos rolled over and lay
down, Mira following suit on top of him. They stayed like that, their hearts
pounding against each other, unsure where they'd found so much energy to begin
with. She looked so peaceful and serene, a naked girl trying to catch her
breath on him; a childish cuteness about her, though paradoxically he'd just
finished sexualising her.
He had the strangest thought: what if he took her as his reward, instead? How
funny; he'd never found a woman he'd liked more than a large bag of gold. What
had changed? He chuckled at this character development.
“What?” she asked.
End Notes
     I am not a historian, and Srivijaya is especially difficult to study.
     I extrapolated some things from long-held SEA region norms. Don't
     cite me in your dissertation.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
