Chapter 1
Crusher
MistyKitj: CRUSHERRRRRRRRRRRRR
“‘Ayyyyyyyyyyyyyy, Miss Kitty,” I drawl, winking at my biggest fan.
Well, flopping my bangs out of my eyes and winking in the half-second they remain out of the way so she can see it.
Or maybe he. Frank, my editor, manager, roommate, and all-around best bro, has given me some lectures reminding me that their screenname isn’t actually Miss Kitty. I just suck at reading, and MistyKitj has never corrected me.
Mad4Minos: Gimme that big glorious bull cock
“Madam, I am barely sitting,” I laugh, settling back in my chair, a custom job that lets me lean way back without tipping over and has armrests that turn out when I really need to sprawl.
I check my cameras, make sure that the wide angle has the tips of my polished ivory horns all the way down to below my knees.
The lighting is right to catch the sheen of the mop of straw-colored fringe atop my head and the russet fur covering much of the rest of my body.
The color is balanced right to give my nose a healthy pink glow, and the recently upgraded light diffuser really cuts the glare off my oiled abdominal fur, making my muscles pop but in a natural way.
All that to say that when I untie the laces of my pants, loosening them enough that I can unfurl my cock, it looks stunning. Even in my hand, my two thick, hooved fingers wrapping beneath it, my dewclaw not quite closing the circle, it’s just fucking awesome.
The chat kicks up as I casually stroke myself.
I’ve got 112 people watching, not bad for a subscriber livestream, and most of them are lurking.
I don’t mind. If I’ve got a lot of activity in the chat, I’ll go for a while, but if no one’s talking, I’ll jerk off and go back to my day, no tan off my hide.
But this isn't one of those nights. There are only a handful of chatters, but they're chatty.
And insistent.
StrawberryCream: Put that free arm behind your head please <3
PurpleNurple: Baby why aren't those other great big horns of yours in frame? :wink:
Alexandabear: slow down I paid for a show!
Dimez: You moo real nice
ClovenLoven: Let's see some hooves?
I groan, but not in a good way. I mean, everything I do comes off in a good way, don't get me wrong. I'm hot. I know that. I work hard to stay this hot. And everyone loves my voice. My audiobooks sell like haycakes. So it's a good groan.
But fuck, the hoof kinkers bring the vibe way down. How am I supposed to get my horns, my abs, my gigantic dick, and my hooves in frame? I'm a minotaur, not a freaking dryad. I can't bend like that.
Oh, but what I lack in general flexibility, I make up for with innovation.
Also, my best bud and talent manager, a necessity when you're making the kind of big bucks jerking off on camera I am, is a sasquatch.
Squatches are really big on tinkering. When I asked him to come up with a way to prop my hooves up without breaking me, he built stirrups for them on my desk.
I pop one up. Just one. The second would show a whole other side of me that you have to pay way more money to see.
And by that, I mean my butthole.
I grab the handle behind my head and hook my other hoof onto the bar bolted to the floor. After a quick glance to the video feed, make sure I look hot as fuck — don't worry, I do — I close my eyes.
Turn the noise off.
Give myself a me moment.
I stroke my shaft in the long, slow drag everyone likes, squeezing it with just enough pressure my viewers will see the dappled flesh ripple in my grip.
I'm not a fancy guy. I don't have a lot of fantasies.
But my first time on HornPub as a viewer, barely more than a calf and sneaking onto the nudey sites with my older brother's login when my parents thought I was in my room doing my homework, I was obsessed with this one heifer.
She was the tiniest little thing, with pale fur, big brown eyes, and gracefully curved horns she painted a glittery pink that matched her nose perfectly.
Also, she had gigantic udders.
That she milked while riding a fake bull cock, with a tarp down to catch the considerable mess.
I was super bummed when I hit it big enough on HornPub to do collabs and found out that her videos were ancient.
She's a granny now. But she's still who I think about when I jerk myself off.
That soft fur and that sweet pink, that absolute fucking flood of milk going absolutely fucking everywhere.
She's what makes my balls throb below my shaft, bouncing and tightening, filling so much that I'm sure some of my viewers are commenting on it.
Most of my subscribers are minophiles, and for every hoof weirdo, there are a dozen other viewers who are here because minotaurs are so productive. Some don't even need to see my load; they're good with my gigantic ballsack.
I picture that little heifer spraying the tarps with sweet cream, and it has me spurting across my chest, mooing deep and low in ecstasy.
Cum splashes all over me, not just my chest and hand but my thighs, my face, the floor that's covered with a tarp because I've learned from the mistakes of others.
I lick my tongue across my face, stretching it to clean my nose and down my chin because viewers like my tongue, too, and it's my cum, I made it, I can lick it if I want, before looking back at the screen.
Predictably, there are several comments from viewers telling me they just made their own messes, others telling me to lick it all off, but seriously, it's a lot.
There are viewers pouting that it's over and viewers asking when the next stream is.
There are requests, too. The usual stuff: different toys, different positions, costars.
More hooves. Always more hooves.
In the middle of it all, there's a request I've seen several times but have no idea what to do with.
SalamanderStu: Crusher, my guy, when are you getting a human on that thing?
I try to respond to everything except the really weird shit, so I say, "Ha, ha. Yeah, Sally Sue, we're working on it. I'll keep you posted when the squatch has something figured out there. These things take time, babycakes."
Buckstar: When are we gonna get another peek at that big ole loaf of a shag carpet? Feels like years since we saw Frank last <3 <3 <3
"Aww you know, he's just real shy."
"Um, excuse you, I'm shy?"
I chuckle as I exit my studio and Frank volleys that at me.
Frank's a good manager, so he watches most of my shows.
He does all the moderating in the chat and pulls out clips he thinks will work well in promo reels, mostly the lead-up stuff that's sexy but not full-on mino dick.
HornPub will post whatever we give them, I'm their leading cash cow, but I have tamer social media I need to keep up on, too.
You know the ones. Faebook, Snapacabra, SphinxIn, Goblinterest.
I can't go full cock out on those, and Frank does a really good job of making sure there are no accidental peek-a-bulls in those clips.
I shrug and sling across my shoulder the towel I was using to dry my head off with. "You're shy sometimes."
Frank leans his hip against the kitchen counter and crosses his arms over his chest. "You don't want me on your show because I'm too hot for it."
So listen, the man's got bushy chestnut fur all over his body except for his long, heavily ridged face.
The prominent bone structure above his eyes makes his brows look like vicious caterpillars.
He's even taller than me, but instead of hooves, he has the biggest, weirdest, hairiest, fleshiest feet I've ever seen in my life, like land flippers, and he's got these squat tusks growing out from his bottom teeth that mostly get used for shotgunning beers.
The guy is hot.
But that's not why I don't want him on the show more.
"Bro, it's the double wang thing. You know that. And we're two giant dudes. It's too much. There's no balance there. My cameras aren't big enough for the two of us. You get it, right?"
Frank rolls his eyes like I'm the one who's being ridiculous, like he hasn't been the one spending hours in the studio setting up cameras.
It's a pain in the ass, and the couple times he's been on camera with me, we've had to be all smushed together.
No one got to see much of either of us. Just fur and cocks everywhere.
I guzzle a carton of water and toss it in the sink to refill later before I plop down at the kitchen table to inhale the sandwich Frank made me. "Hey, why do they keep asking about hoo-manns? What are hoo-manns?"
"Humans?" Frank fills the carton and tucks it back into the fridge. "Oh, right. That's that new species that just dropped."
I quirk a brow as, through a mouthful of bread and cheese and grassy bits, I say, "Just dropped? The hell's that mean?"
Frank plucks a plate from the fridge and sets it across from me. I glance at it, but it's drippy, charred meat. Gross. "Just dropped," he says again. "Oh, probably a year ago now? Fell right out of the sky, apparently. They said it's a miracle they survived, but you know magic."
I don't. Like, at all. Gives me the heebie jeebies, truth be told. It's all over, can't be avoided, but I do my best. "From where? Emerald Vale? Or is this some Barren White nonsense?"
"Nah, man. They're, like, not of this world?"
"Ohh, aliens?"
"Parallel dimension," he says, but he's chewing on that meat as he says it. No manners at all. "From what I heard, it's just like this world, but instead of minotaurs and sasquatches and fae and gryphons and merpeople and dragons and ogres and trolls and selkies, it's just humans."
"What about, like, banshees?"
"Not even banshees."
"Fuck."
"Right?"
"So what are these hyu-manns like?"
"Humans?" he repeats, but it's just a weird word to say. I don't know. "I've only seen pictures, but they look about the size of satyrs. A little smaller, I guess, and they have flat faces and little noses, and all their hair is on top of their heads."
"They shave themselves?"
"I don't think so? It's all just right there and nowhere else, but it's a lot. I saw one human with hair all the way down to her butt!"
I blink, trying to imagine this. Like they pulled all their fur out of their skulls and just kept pulling and pulling and pulling? Like a mop of hair with two legs sticking out? How does he know their faces are flat, then?
Oh, I guess because it's not sticking out of their hair.
Why would anyone want to see me fuck hair on legs?
"Oh, and get this: they have four fingers."
"Well, same as you." I nod to his hand with its extra digit. He doesn't have hooves on the longer ones like I do, so there's space for another one.
"No, no, no. Not three fingers plus a thumb, four fingers, and a thumb."
"Jeezy petes, their hands gotta be huge!"
"Not really!"
"Well, hell. I gotta see one of these. See if you can book one. I'll fuck anything, whatever."
Frank shakes his head as he pushes his plate of bones away. "I don't know if we can. They are exotic. I don't know how much it'd cost."
"Then we'll livestream it, make it a pay-per-view. Then we can chop up the footage for videos, make it top tier subscribers only. If this thing's that exotic, we'll get top dollar. Maybe this will be my thing. This is a good business move, Frank."
He gives me a speculative look, like he doesn't think this is a good business move, but nah, bruh. Bring on the hair-leg creature.