Page 43 of Minding the Minotaur
SAMMY
Over the next week, Arlo and I get into a nice rhythm.
A nice rhythm forme, that is.
Not so much for him. The poor guy has the worst case of blue balls ever. But he insists that he’s loving giving me pleasure.
I hope sometime soon we’ll be able to go all the way, but I guess that depends on whether Arlo can afford to quit his clinic job, with his family commitments and all. It’s a topic we skirt around, and I think we’ve both hinted we want more, without saying those exact words. I squirm every time I think about consummating our relationship. Because up until now… well, this is just foreplay, right? The best foreplay ever, but still…
Arlo is warming me up well to take his cock. True, he is much more well-endowed than any human guy I’ve ever met—I can only just span his erect cock with my hand, and it rides up a good twelve inches.
Which means, even with lube, it’s going to be a stretch to take him inside me.
But Arlo has woken up my inner sex goddess, and I have no qualms about going all the way, bareback even, when the moment comes. It’s not like I’ll conceive—no-one does without treatment. The treatment that I now know is derived from Arlo’s sperm enzymes. I don’t want him pumping all that sweet goodness into a glass bottle for other random humans to benefit from.
I hope he can stop soon, and it can just be about us.
But I worry that the human authorities won’t let him do that. He has what they need, I’m all too aware of that, and it scares me.
Since being here, Arlo has told me more about the history of the Labyrinth. We sat close together in the book-lined study one evening and he explained how the great divide between monsters and humans happened four hundred years ago, not long after the apocalypse. How monsters came to the aid of the humans left alive and helped them build the first rudimentary domes. For some reason, not a single species of monster was affected by the toxic air. But then, not long after, humans, in an act of horrible villainy, turned against monsters, forcing them underground. They were chained up, and made to work in heinous conditions, until they rebelled one hundred years ago and surged into the domes. After they were defeated, the Covenant was signed that allowed them to roam freely through the Labyrinth, as long as they never attempted to go above ground ever again.
Arlo showed me his copy of the Covenant, a thick tome of rules and regulations enforced by the dome authorities. He turned to the words all monsters learned in school:The right to blessed freedom below is gifted from above.To which I responded, “What a complete crock of shit.” It made me so angry, thinking about what we’ve done to the monsters for literally hundreds of years, that I started pacing up and down,crying and flapping my hands. Arlo had to hug me to calm me down. And then he refused to tell me any more, in case I got something called Labyrinth overwhelm.
One thing I did conclude from it all is that whoever the dome authorities are, they are truly evil people. They don’t deserve anything from monsters; not their time, not their labor, not one grain of their respect, and certainly not a single ounce of their precious cum.
Getting back to Arlo and me, I’m not sure that I’mtechnicallyfulfilling my duties as a minder, but I keep reassuring myself that no-one’s complained. We make a fair bit of noise, and Tippy and Len are around the kitchen and grounds most days, until around 4 pm. We, on the other hand, do not confine our make-outs to any particular hours. They must have heard my squeals of delight and Arlo egging me on with a guttural “come for me baby”.
Those words are probably hard to misinterpret.
They could have told Otis if they’d wanted to. And frankly, Otis could easily have noticed on one of his frequent visits, except he’s always so preoccupied with his sheriff duties. One time there was a pair of my panties slung over the sofa in the snug. He either didn’t see them or ignored them. I whipped them out of sight as soon as he turned his back.
Thus, apart from that one disturbing history lesson, Arlo and I remain in our little bubble of bliss in his quaint, tunneled-out house on the edge of level one. And I think—no, I actuallyknow—that I am falling for the guy. This is the first time I’ve ever remotely felt like this about anyone, and I want it to last for so much longer than four weeks. I draw a blank whenever I try to work out how we’ll continue our relationship once my job ends here, but I remind myself that a mere ten days ago, I didn’t even know the Labyrinth existed.
I trust Arlo will know what to do when the time comes. After all, he made it into Sparkle in an ancient portal cape. What can be harder than that?
And in the meantime, we are getting to thoroughly explore our wildest fantasies together.
We found a piece of chain the other day in the garden shed and Arlo begged me to put it round his neck. I stood over him as he knelt in front of me. Right there in the tiny shed, I yanked that chain and demanded that he pull down my pants. When they were pooled round my ankles, I ordered him to tongue fuck me, then add a digit, then another, and another until I was stuffed fit to bursting with his thick fingers and his lapping tongue, legs shaking as he deep dived onto my G-spot. It took his tongue barely one more flick on my clit and wham! I nearly blew the shed roof off as I came, screaming and grasping the chain so tightly he gagged.
“Oops, sorry,” I said, letting go. His face flushed and he went slightly boss-eyed, but then he grinned and told me he’d loved every second of it. His huge swollen member was a weeping pole in front of him, waving the flag for his incredible self-control.
Another time, Arlo took the reins. He winked at me and said, “I think my minder needs a good spanking.” I took that as an invitation to run, and he was soon in hot pursuit, chasing me around the house and garden. He caught me in the snug where he proceeded to put me over his knee, rip down my panties and paddle my ass with his flattened palm until my butt sang out. He stroked it better, before exploring round my ass cheek and finger fucking me until I was stretched and wet and sloppy and sated.
As for yesterday, honestly, that was the chef’s kiss. After breakfast I said, “I think I need horny beast today,” which resulted in Arlo frog-marching me to his bedroom closet, where he’d hammered two sets of cufflinks into the wall as a surprise. He clipped my wrists into them, my arms spread-eagle, and ripped off my shirt and bra with his teeth. Proceeding to suck my nipples into hungry peaks, he finally shimmied off my pants, knelt down, threw one of my legsover each of his shoulders and buried his face in my cunt. He then edged me until I was writhing and begging.
He even demanded that I call him sir, or there would be no relief, while he grinned and teased my asshole with what I thought was a finger, but soon realized was the tip of his tail. Finally, when I could take no more, he very considerately ate me out, my back against the wall, those strong hands holding my ass up to his face, and his tail working magic on my tight little hole. Of course, I obligingly fell apart for him with multiples.
Clem’s words occasionally ring in my ears.Who is this Samantha Buggins?
I have to say, I don’t know her well, but seeing her through Arlo’s eyes, I’m getting to like this gal.
But I do feel for Arlo. He’s walking around with the stiffy from hell for vast chunks of the day. And while he puts on a brave face, I know how torturing it must be, by the amount of time he spends pumping iron in the gym. When he’s finally exhausted himself, we watch pirated old black and white human movies from the early dome studios in Ruby Town, and a couple of monster shows on repeat. There certainly isn’t much choice. We eat popcorn, and he strokes my hair as I lie against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
At night, he walks me back to my room, where I promptly collapse on the bed and sleep like the orgasm-drenched woman I am. I don’t even check the screens. Why would I need to when my minotaur is bound to me by our insatiable appetites for one another?
One thing I do know: Arlo is counting off the hours until the next clinic visit.
As I fall asleep, I do feel an occasional small stab of guilt, knowing I’ve been pretty loose with my list of duties.
