Page 3 of Bred By the Minotaur (DreamTogether Breeding Program #3)

Three

Five years later...

Phoebe

Here I am again, strapped in and ready to rumble. My legs are held open by the stirrups, my pussy exposed and waiting for whoever walks in that door. The breeding bench underneath me is padded, and the frame is solid steel to tolerate whatever my visitor today has to throw at it.

I’ll be prepared for whoever it is. My client could be a demon, or a cyclops, or maybe even a gryphon—doesn’t matter to me. I have a job, and I’m good at it now.

It’s a simple gig, really. Take a monster’s cock. Get pregnant. Carry that pregnancy to term. Hand over the baby. Mostly passive, though it is physically taxing. I’ve made it a habit to keep up with my exercise, and I’m lucky my body is naturally good at recovering.

So far, both of my pregnancies have been different in terms of symptoms, though neither too difficult.

I’ve heard horror stories from the other surrogates about carrying a monster’s baby, both during and after, and I’m glad that hasn’t been me.

Not yet, anyway. Cross your fingers and toes, knock on wood, et cetera.

That’s why my ass is up in the air, my legs and hands strapped down so I stay safe even as a monster goes wild. It’s time for baby number three.

The door behind me opens with a creak. Though I know the point of DreamTogether is anonymity, I can’t help being curious about who it’ll be this time.

I wonder what it would be like to see their face, to know who’s inside me, who’s shooting in all that sperm that will eventually become a living thing.

“Hello,” I say when my visitor doesn’t speak at first. I hear a clomp, clomp as hooves pass over the tile floor. Perhaps a centaur. Or maybe another minotaur. That would be an odd coincidence.

Fuck, that cock. After that, I was sure that I’d break confidentiality just so I could learn who he was.

I felt in my bones that something was different about him, and what we’d done wasn’t just procreating.

We had connected on another level, something deeper than just bodies doing what they were made to do.

I knew him, more than it makes sense to know someone you’ve never even seen.

But I didn’t obey my impulse. I need this job, what with my sister’s medical bills stacking up, and I couldn’t risk it by breaching confidentiality. That’s grounds for immediate termination—and they would withhold the rest of my payments, which I certainly can’t afford.

We didn’t see each other again, and I think my heart broke a little the day I found out I was pregnant. It broke more every day until the baby was born, and I handed it off without even knowing what it looked like.

Let’s just say I learned some important lessons. Never get too close to a client, no matter how good they fuck you. It’s just a job, and feelings only make it harder.

It was difficult to give up that baby. When I watched them carry it away, it made me ask all sorts of uncomfortable questions of myself. What if I could have kept it? Could I be a mother?

What if I wanted to be a mother to that child, and now that chance was gone forever?

The day I came home from the hospital, I sat on my bed curled in a ball, wishing I could have seen the father’s face, maybe held his hand.

After that, I pledged that I’d never let myself get swept away by one of my clients again.

And I held fast to this agreement with myself during my second pregnancy, doing my best not to get attached to the baby growing in my belly.

That one was easier to hand off after the birth, but I still wonder what that child is doing now, where they are, what their life is like.

I’ve been waiting for my visitor to answer my greeting, but still, he doesn’t even speak to me, and I get a creepy-crawly feeling down my back.

Is he going to stay silent like this as he does the deed?

I guess that’s fine, but even some friendly courtesy would be appreciated, especially if we have to meet a few times for this.

If he’s going to put his cock inside me so I can carry his baby for the next who-knows-how-many months, the least he could do is say “hello.”

“Okay then,” I say in a clipped tone, because he clearly doesn’t want to reveal himself. “Get to business, why don’t you?”

Then, a huge, soft hand brushes over the swell of my ass.

“You look exactly the same,” comes a quiet voice, as that hand smooths down my skin. I shudder all over as it skims the crease between my ass cheeks to the other side.

Wait. I know that voice, that delicate hand.

It’s him .

Hank

I wasn’t quite honest with my mother about where I was going when I asked her to babysit Milo for the afternoon. I didn’t tell her I had an appointment at DreamTogether, though I can’t exactly say why I kept it secret.

Maybe I was afraid she wouldn’t approve of me bringing home a second baby when Milo is already so much to handle. He’s almost five now, and he’s always moving at the speed of light. I’m planning to get a nanny this time around, but Mom will surely still be involved.

Maybe I was afraid she’d judge me for using my inheritance from my father this way. His passing a few years ago was hard on all of us, but he left me enough that I could do this.

Hell, maybe Mom wouldn’t have judged me at all. No, maybe I didn’t tell her because I didn’t want to admit why I’m going back now.

On the surface, it’s because I want a sibling for Milo. But it’s also very much for Rapunzel.

Here she is again, spread open for me on the breeding bench, her legs strapped in to hold them apart. I can see everything, from her tiny, puckered ass down to the flower between her legs, its petals leading to a pronounced clitoris. I would know that pussy anywhere.

I caress one of those familiar soft cheeks. Already my cock has recognized her, too, and it extrudes from my sheath inside my jeans.

“It’s you?” Rapunzel asks, her voice catching. “Really?”

I nod even though she can’t see me. “It’s me.”

Her blonde hair is cut short now, in a bob around her head that shows off the slender shape of her neck. Rapunzel doesn’t really fit her anymore, but that’s all right. I’ll learn her real name soon enough, I hope.

Last time I was here, I was much sloppier with her.

I won’t be sloppy this time. How often have I thought about her since then, jacked off to the memory of her small body swallowing me up, the sound of her little mewls and moans?

She’d taken me so well— so well—and I regretted everything about the last time I left this tiny room.

If only I’d known it was our last chance, I wouldn’t have gone without finding out her name, her email address, her phone number.

Well, now I have another shot.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” Rapunzel says, gasping when I squeeze her ass. I’m watching with interest as that small slit between her legs pulses. “Well, ‘see,’ relatively speaking.”

“I thought the same.” I test her other cheek with my other hand, squeezing it as well to see if it has the same effect. Her pussy opens and then closes again with her breaths. “But here I am.”

“Here you are,” she echoes. I bring my thumbs down to trace the outline of her soft folds. Each of her pinkish labia swells as I tease her.

“Are you ready?” I don’t even touch her there. No, I simply run the pad of my index finger down to the hood that hides everything but the tip of her clit. “Are you ready for me to put another calf in you?”

At these words, her pussy flutters again, and the pink inside is already starting to glisten with moisture.

“I can’t believe it,” she says instead of answering, and her head turns to one side like she’s trying to get a look at me. “You’re back. After...”

She swallows, and I don’t speak as she turns forward again.

“Sorry,” she amends quickly, straightening. “None of my business.”

Is she supposed to pretend we’ve never had a calf together before?

“I requested you,” I tell her, spreading my fingers on one hand to run them along the ridges of her pussy, from the bud to the tiny slit. I can’t believe that I fit in there.

“Oh,” is all she says as I rub up and down again. Her hips lift into my hand, urging me to stop teasing and dive into her, but I deny her body’s request. “Why me again?”

“I want my son to have a sibling.” Now that Milo is out of his baby years, I want to fill up the house with even more laughter, and ensure Milo has someone else in his life to play with—someone who will always be there for him, and who he can always support and love.

“A son...” she says, trailing off. “That makes s-sense.” Her voice breaks when I slide one finger down, between those plush lower lips, to the treasure underneath. “A brother or sister.”

“Indeed.”

“DreamTogether was...” She gasps as I press that finger into her, testing how wet she is for me. “...fine with that?”

“They’re fine with money.” And I’m not the only one who’s ever requested the same surrogate twice. It’s common practice among repeat clients.

A giggle makes Rapunzel clench up around the pad of my finger. I squish it deeper, toward that tiny slit that I’ll eventually open wide around my cock. Just as she pushes back, drawing me in, I drag my wet hand away and down to her hood, then brush over the tip of her clit.

Rapunzel jerks, and now her pussy is weeping for me, leaking down over my fingers. I swirl it all up and glance over her most sensitive spot again, this time with more pressure, and she moans.

I remember just what to do with her.

Returning to her small entrance, I take my time pushing the pads of my fingers inside her.

She whimpers underneath me. “I can’t believe—” I withdraw, then slide back in again. “—you’re back.”

“I’m back,” I croon, leaning forward so I can brush my haunches against her legs.

“That’s where my cock will fit.” I squeeze my hand in deeper, then curl my fingers to stroke her inside.

Her hips snap up, and so I stroke again, and again, falling into a steady rhythm.

Then I reach down with my thumb and brush it over her clit.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasps, her body tensing. “That’s... that’s so good.”

“I remember what you like,” I tell her, leaning farther forward so now my hand is pressed against my own crotch as I fuck her with it.

She nods rapidly, clearly in agreement.

Good. I studied in my dreams.

When she’s nice and wet for me, I take a third finger and soak it in her juices before attempting to slide it in. Again her ass bucks into me, and I groan as it forces pressure back against my cock under my jeans.

I don’t know how long I can do this. But I need her to open for me, otherwise I might not be able to do what I came here to do. Well, one of the things. I remember how small she was before, and I’m going to make sure we fit together easily this time.

She squirms as I work my finger inside her, and it looks like she’s prepared well for me.

Good. I pump all three of them, stroking the spongy inside of her as her cute little moans escalate.

I fuck her with my hand until she’s dripping into my palm, and then hastily I withdraw it, nearly tearing my jeans in my rush to get them open.

Once they’re on the floor with my boxers, I stroke myself, earning a white bead at the tip of my cock.

My balls already feel tight as I imagine what she’ll feel like.

Rapunzel tries to turn her head again. “Please,” she whimpers at the absence of my hand. “Put it inside me.”

My tail thrashes at the eagerness in her voice. I step up to the bench, then press the blunt head of my cock against those spread, swollen lips. Taking a deep breath, I push in.

Her cry is unrestrained, and there’s no feeling in the world like being inside her again.