“I’m awfully excited to see how the new milk blend will actually taste.” Bessie's hoof like fingers dance upon the animalistic sheaths she's bequeathed you with.
The cowtaur continues. "First they sent in the sneaky young one. Jumpy little guy, his milkers barely dropped into his cute little sac. They barely started to ripen” she says while indicating the smallest set on your right, taut, pink and youthful. “I think his name was ‘Mathias’ and his gift to you excites me. So much potential! My serum and all this extra bull might, will do wonders for growing his bits up." muses your murderous captor, and her hoof hands skate across what remains of Mathias.
Bessie moves toward your far left, longingly groping your new jet black set of horse bits. "Big stompy 'Brutas' here thought he was stronger than me. Not even close, didnt even last a minute. Psh! Pony rides are always too short. Still you cant ignore his girth." She smiles at the fact, and you're realize she's right, the dark black hole like maw of stolen stallion-hood is as wide as a three litter bottle. Before running into Bessie's serum, Brutas' balls would have been the largest you've ever seen--like onyx colored musk melons.
"Oh and this one, he was my favorite ride. Crafty one, old bastard tried to avenge his fallen warriors. Called himself 'Lapithes' by trying to use sleeping gas options. Thought he could me kill me in my sleep. Poor son of Nephele, didn't know Hera protects me from poison. Still I've never had as much fun with a male. He was so skilled, and had such 'reach!' And those magic rings! Now that was a bucking bronco" As she recalls rapping the elder centaur, she begins stroking his--now yours, central light brown sheath. It's the longest one, skin weathered and aged
“They thought they might poach from MY maze! Try to kill me! The mighty Cowtaur, blessed daughter of Hera!" Growls Bessie, her arousal twisting away to rage.
"And now all that's left of the four of them are yours." She adds, with a cruel smirk on her bestial face.
"Four?" You meekly whisper.
Bessie smiles, baring teeth overly sharp for a bovine face. She reaches beneath the immense junction of where your stolen minotaur sack joins your groin. A strange alien penetration makes your eyes roll into your head. Electric pleasure dances through your body, curling your toes. The sensation makes your trio of stallions leap to attention. They threaten to break your nose as they flop to erection. Sudden loss of blood makes everything muted and fuzzy again, but Bessie's booming voice chortles as you are overwhelmed with arousal.
"Oh yes, do you like how that feels dearie? Every centaur warband has a priestess of Stilbe with them. Dryad herbs keep them in perpetual heat. Scent of a randy mare makes the stallion warriors fight harder. Stilbe boons them with such wonderfully rapid pregnancy." The cowtaur pumps her hand in and out of a new found orifice, one your blood-starved brain can only begin to grapple with. "I wonder how Amphitrite's lovely lady bits are going to play together with the boys, especially without prophylactic herbs."