*** This story is the result of a cooperation between myself and another writer on a forum. I provided the world and story, she provided the main character’s reactions to the action. There is a terrible, terrible pun at one point. I am solely responsible for it.
The following is an edited and slightly re-written version of our interaction.
*****
Hiking the Appalachian Trail had always been a dream for Valentine. The wilderness, the fresh air, the break from the college exams, it all sounded like the perfect way to spend a summer. By day three is was more of a nightmare. The path had disappeared a while ago, the day was hot and muggy and her backpack felt heavier and heavier.
Valentine hadn’t seen another person for hours. She had been following what looked like a path, but it ended at the sheer face of a steep hill. She was forced to follow the base of the hill, trying to get around it and somehow find the path again. Or a path. At this point she wasn’t sure she was on the Appalachian trail anymore. And she only had a few hours of daylight left before she would have to set up camp in this unknown forest.
That part didn’t scare her. She had spent many a night camping and hiking in the hills and mountains of her native Canada. She had faced a bear once, she could face a night in the wild. But she still pushed herself a little, her muscular legs pushing her through the thickening underbrush. At 22, she had the build of an athlete and the stamina of youth. She pulled her long brown hair into a ponytail and moved on.
A cleft in the hill appeared. The path seemed to veer towards the cleft, which apparently headed straight through the hill itself. Valentine followed the path and soon found herself in a steep canyon, hemmed in on all sides by the sheer sides of the cloven hill.
She noticed what looked like ancient carvings on the sides, swirls and patterns, some looking vaguely Celtic which she knew to be impossible.
It was dark in the canyon. And much cooler. Val was relieved when the path opened and she found herself back in the open forest, the sun shining warm but low on the horizon.
Determined, Valentine continued hiking for a while, hoping to find the markers on the path that would lead her to the nearest rest stop, restaurant, Appleby’s or even 7-11. She was hungry and thirsty, and sweaty. The thought of having to set up camp felt overwhelming.
There was a noise behind her; the loud crack of a broken branch. She turned, surprised. There, in the path, is a horse, with a man on it. No, not on it. A half man half horse. A centaur. And he is looking at her.
Valentine stepped back, gasping, not sure what to think. She took a few quick steps back and tripped over a root, landing flat on her ass. She scooted back some, half dragging herself along the dirty ground. She looked around, trying to find a large branch or something to defend herself with. She spotted one and scrambled to grab it. She planted her feet, heaved with all her strength, and swung… just as it broke and fell apart in her hands.
“Shit… it’s rotten…” she swore under her breath.
Before she could look for another branch, she noticed that the centaur was not alone. One by one they stepped out of the underbrush until a dozen of them formed a half circle around her.
They were all male, fierce looking and mostly naked, their long black hair decorated with beads and feathers in a vaguely Native American manner. Most had a leather pouch slung across their broad and muscular chests, as well as a quiver of arrows. Spears and bows were in their hands, and…
Valentine noticed something they never mentioned in any Greek mythology class. All these men were naked, down to the long thick cocks hanging at the base of their human torsos. They all had two cocks, one human and one horse, and two sets of balls. Val briefly wondered if the flopping hurt when they galloped.
“Human!” Called out one of the centaurs. “What are you doing in this part of the forest? You have no right to walk these woods.”
“Is she actually human? She looks a little scrawny for a human.” Said a different centaur.
“Maybe she is a shape-shifter. A spy!” Called out another “look at her clothes! No human wears those kind of clothes!”
“Maybe we can eat her. That would tell us if she is human. If she is delicious, she was human and we can just apologize to her family for having eaten her.” Said a third, quite reasonably.
Valentine gasped and stammered, trying to find a way to jump in the seemingly one sided conversation. She glanced down at her clothes, hiking shorts and boots, with a tank top under her plaid shirt, and wonder why that’s strange. Then again… she had two dicked centaurs in front of her and was in no position to be judging what’s strange.
She finally stammered out “I am human! I… I don’t know where I am, I came through the canyon and now I’m here! Where the fuck is here!?”
She began to shriek, talking to herself as much as these naked beasts. She rubbed her fingers against her temples, taking deep breathes.
“Please don’t eat me…” she whimpered out meekly.
“She cries like a human” muttered one of the centaurs.
“But she is lying! No one had come through the path in centuries! ” yelled out another.
“Enough!” Yelled out the one in the middle, who seems to be the chief. His face was square, the lines of his face almost harsh, a few strands of grey hair streaking through his thick mane.
“We will take her to Rom, he will decide whether we eat her or not. Whistling Bear, you carry her.” He said, glancing to a centaur near Valentine.
“Not like that I’m not.” Said the centaur. He seemed to be the youngest of the group, his features not as rough, his chin smooth and free of any facial hair. He pointed at Valentine:”she’s wearing clothes! I don’t want that unnatural stuff touching me!”
“It gave me hives once” piped up another centaur.
The chief sighed and looked at Valentine.
She had been glancing back and forth between the group, listening intently. What they were saying started to sink in, and she started to shake her head side to side, muttering to herself.
“No…noooo…nope, not doing it…” she said, backing up, hands in front of her defensively.
“I’m not getting naked for a bunch of… freaky horse men!” She cried out, stomping her foot, trying to drive the point home. She stared at their leader, trying her best to put a defiant look on her face.
He looked at her and his face hardened.
He makes a clicking sound and suddenly one of the centaurs leaped forward and grabbed Valentine under the arms. Before she could react he tossed her in air.
She went cartwheeling and screaming through the air, only to be caught at the last minute by another centaur. He grabbed her by the ankles, holding her upside down. Another centaur approached, knife in hand. With one swift stroke he cut the shorts off of her. Another strike and the shirt is cut off as well.
Valentine squirmed but she had nothing to hold on to, held upside down like a doll. Rough hands pulled and ripped whatever fabric was left on her.
She was left completely naked, hanging in mid air.
“Hey whistling Bear! Your new bride is ready!” Said the centaur holding Val upside down with one big hand.
The centaurs laughed heartily as Whistling Bear blushed.
“Not much meat on this one” continued the centaur, his rough hand poking Val’s ribs and pinching her butt.
Valentine had screamed through whole ordeal, though it passed quicker than expected. As she was left hanging, she tried to cover her awkwardly hanging breasts with one arm, her other hand covering her pussy.
“Hey, watch it! Hands to yourself, asshole!” She yelled at the poking centaur.
She squirmed and writhed in the strong grip, trying to contain her jiggling flesh without exposing herself. “This is NOT how you treat a lady!” she reprimanded the group.
The centaurs laughed, slowly drawing closer to Valentine.
“You’re right” said the centaur holding her upside down.
He swung her around and put her down on her feet. Valentine stumbled a bit, her hands still clutching at her bare breasts and pussy in a desperate and increasingly futile attempt to preserve her dignity.
“We should treat you with the honor you deserve” continued the centaur who had held her. “Oh, what’s that over there?” He said, pointing at something behind Valentine.
Startled, she turned towards where he was pointing to. Her face smacked right into the flopping cock of a centaur who had sneaked close behind her, his thick shaft and balls basically at head height to Val.
The centaurs burst into laughter.
She stepped back, disgusted and shocked, though her eyes stayed transfixed on the human cock hanging off the half horse body. It was easily thicker and longer than any she had seen before, even though it was completely soft. She thought to herself that when it is hard, it would easily be larger than her forearm, and nearly just as thick.
“Ok, yea, haha, very funny…” She blurted out sarcastically,
The centaur she had knocked into wriggled his eyebrows at her.
“let’s just go to this Rom guy. He’ll tell you I’m human, then you can let me go.” She finally stated, trying to sound more sure of herself than she really felt. Though her eyes kept drifting to the thick hanging cocks of the centaurs.
“Boys! Step back” called out the leader.
The ring of centaurs opened up, letting him through.
He grabbed Valentine under the armpits and tossed her onto Whistling Bears back. The young centaur deftly caught her and placed her on his equine back, forcing her to open her legs wide and her arms around his broad chest. Valentine could not help but gasp at the sudden heat of his skin against hers, the strange contrast between his smooth chest under her hands and the rough fur between her legs.
“Hang on or die.” The leader snarled at her. “Warriors! We run back to camp for the night!”
Valentine shrunk back from the snarl of the chief, quickly grasping to Whistling Bear’s human torso as he started to gallop. The centaurs moved. Valentine clung to Whistling Bear’s back, her arms latched around his muscular chest, her face pressed into his back. She held on for dear life, very self conscious of her bare breasts pressing deep into the muscular back. Her hands roamed on their own, feeling the muscles beneath, her body reacting in a primal way to the hard, thick tissue beneath her hands.
The centaurs flew through the forest, dashing past titanic trees, giant mushrooms and multi colored ferns, plants she’d never seen before. She tried to take her mind off of the situation by gazing at the forest as it zoomed past, bright colors and deep browns and greens.
The scent of the centaur was in her nose, a musky, earthy smell, animal and fresh at the same time. She could hear his strong heart pounding against her ear.
Before long the troop stopped. They settled around the remains of camp fires that had been set up already. A few centaurs busied themselves relighting the fires. Others kneeled and sat back against the trees that surrounded the small uneven clearing, pulling water skins and food from the pouches slung across their chests. Night was falling. This was their camp.
“Tomorrow, we go to Rom” announced the leader. “Whistling Bear, she is your responsibility,” he said, not even looking at Valentine or the young centaur.
Whistling Bear knelt to the ground, his large horse body settling down. He guided Valentine off of him but held her near, pressed her against his warm flank.
Fires were lit, night had fallen, and the air grew cold.
As she dismounted the young centaur, Val shivered with the growing chill in the air, staying close for warmth, yet still trying to cover herself out of modesty.
“Um…do you have a blanket.. or something? Anything?” she cautiously asked Whistling Bear.
“No,” he replied,”we don’t believe in covering ourselves ”
He shifted his horse body, leaning more to the side.
It was hard to tell in the dimming light, but he might have been blushing as he said, “you can snuggle closer if you want.”
The shifting of his body created a warm soft cave beneath his haunches where Valentine could lie down. It also exposed the large sheath of his horse cock, and the big hanging balls below it.
“Ok…” she muttered, starting to focus more on rubbing her body to keep it warm than to cover it. She blushed a deep red as she took a seat within the curve of his body. She could feel the heat he radiated, instantly moving closer as it washed over her. She tried to stay away from the massive horse cock and balls, curling up as far away as she could, though she could feel against her feet even more warmth being let off by the enormous package.
“So… where are we, exactly? ” she asked tentatively.
“In the forest of Ewelyn,” replied Whistling Bear. “you come at a bad time. The Dark Horde is threatening our forest, which is why my comrades where so suspicious of you”
She felt a warm pressure against her foot. His horse cock was slowly growing and lengthening, like a black, flat tipped snake. It felt hot against her skin.
She tried to scoot more out of the way, but his heavily muscled body didn’t budge.
“Well… who’s the dark horde?” she asked, trying to divert his attention, hoping it would abate his obvious arousal. “And I swear, whoever they are. I’m not one of them.”
“The Dark Horde arrived in this valley a few months ago. It’s a vile bunch of orcs and goblins, and dragons too. They are led by the witch-kings of Lemuria, snake men with awesome powers of magic. But we will beat them!”
For a moment Valentine’s brain simply rejected every word she heard. But looking around her, seeing the half-men, half-horse that surrounded her, she decided that either she was asleep and dreaming, in which case she might as well enjoy it, or what she was told was true and she was in deep and wondrous waters, and her only chance to survive was to stay close to Whistling Bear who at least seemed kind.
Another option, that she had gone insane, was just not helpful so she dismissed it outright.
Besides, the warmth of the body she was leaning against seemed real enough for now. The thick horse cock pushed her legs apart, sliding between her knees, draped over her thigh like a lazy snake. Before Valentine could gather her wits enough to do something about it there was movement among the centaurs, pulling all of their attention towards the central fire.
The leader had stood up, cantering in a slow and ponderous trot around the fire. His eyes were closed, his head turning this way and that, as if listening to unheard voices. He pulled a rattle, made of bones and beads, out of his pouch. He shook it, sending a shrill noise into the dark night.
The leader of the centaurs suddenly turned to Whistling Bear and the cowering Valentine.
He called out, “Human! The spirits of the forest are scared and restless. We should appease them. Come, dance for them. Come to the fire and dance.”
…to be continued…