Deep in the Thicket

“Kallias’ Log: Entry #705. Beginning the third session of female aversion conditioning on Patient #1986. Name: Domitius. Starting procedure now.”

These were the words Blackthorn heard from a male Antlertean deer standing between his spread legs. The Thicket stag was currently strapped down, his back atop a strange padded table that curved slightly to form an obtuse arch, making the stag’s spine bend along its path, his arms and legs forcing into a bent ‘X’ shape on rests that conformed with the direction the rest of the table took.

Ever since he was taken from Thicket, he had been at the mercy of his minotaur master, the bull named Titanius. That had been months now, and during that time the bull had done all he could to train Blackthorn to be a part of his personal harem, while the stag did what he could to thwart him. The former captain of the guard had done a good job resisting his indoctrination, his master not gaining any ground no matter what methods he attempted. Humiliation, degradation, sexual manipulation, drugs, all were tried, but none took. For some time Blackthorn took great pride in spurning the minotaur, but that pride eventually landed him where he was now.

For his defiance, Titanius decided to send him to one of Minopolis’ professional training facilities, to show Blackthorn how bad things could truly be if he willed it. It had only been a few days since the stag was left there, and already he wished for the relative comfort of his cage back at Titanius’ home. The one in charge of his training, which included lessons in obedience, physical training to keep his body’s muscle tone firm, while making it more flexible and sensitive in certain areas, and the ‘female aversion conditioning’ he was currently being put through, was this Antlertean, an adult deer whose physical features framed him as being much younger than Blackthorn.

“Ok, girls,” said the Antlertean stag standing at the lower half of Blackthorn’s body, “You know what to do.”

“Right away,” said a pair of Antlertean does located on the other side of Blackthorn, the stag’s assistants.

They positioned themselves on either side of Blackthorn’s face, the pair wore no coverings, only the slave collars on their necks, while the stag was allowed a coat made of white cloth to wear along with his symbol of enslavement. As they stood, the lower ranked does had their moist pussies at head height with Blackthorn, and were so close that the buck was able to smell the scent of their sex. Having endured this training twice before, Blackthorn braced himself for what came next, clenching his eyelids and mouth shut.

With hardly a word, the two does went to work on the stag, pushing their hips forward and rubbing their crotches across his face. Their pair of mounds took turns sliding across his muzzle, leaving behind streaks of syrupy slit slime in their wake. The does’ tattoos glowed with elation, the two of them finding the fine furs on Blackthorn’s face to be a thrilling sensation as they glided their soft and sensitive skin across it. Blackthorn, on the other hand, felt great disgust in the actions of these two females.

Blackthorn understood the reason they were this way, years of being sexual servants and domesticated slaves to the minotaur breaking them down mentally, warping their minds until they found it better to accept the minotaur’s roles for their species, but understanding only went so far. He might pity what they have become, but that pity didn’t account for much while they not only defiled his face with their privates, but showed signs that they were actually enjoying doing so. This lewdness didn’t sit well with Blackthorn at all, as it tarnished the dignity of deer everywhere to see these two acting like total sluts with insatiable hungers for sex.

Mentally, there was nothing about these two does, beautiful as they were, that Blackthorn was attracted to. Physically though, he was still a male, one who’s natural response to female pheromones was being enhanced by chemicals injected into him moments before this session started. His mind screamed no, but his body screamed louder as his penis grew to erection. Luckily for him, the chastity cage Titanius had put on him was currently removed, so he didn’t have to worry about getting his dick poked at. The prior sessions taught him that this was not a good thing though.

“Ah, ah, ah...” said the stag in the lab coat, “You know that’s not allowed.”

He quickly reached into his pocket, pulling out a small rod from within. The metal cylinder was covered in strange symbols reminiscent of the tattoos on the Antlerteans, and when the stag made the symbols that covered his body light up, his magic flowed through those etchings like blood through a vein. The magical energy made its way to the tip of the rod, a part of it made of crystal that lit up with a soft glow as it made a buzzing noise.

With his tool charged, the stag pressed it against Blackthorn’s taint, sending a powerful vibration into the stag. These tremors were not ones designed to create pleasure, instead being so rapid and strong that within a second of contact, the pathway that was Blackthorn’s urethra went numb. The sensation of void in the bound stag’s reproductive organs cause them to deflate instantly, reducing the hardening deer dick to a limp piece of meat.

“You’re gonna have to restrain yourself if you don’t want to be punished.” said the stag in the coat, removing his rod from Blackthorn’s skin, “Your master wants you to only get turned on by other males.”

Blackthorn gave a few muffled protests to the other stag, his muzzle held shut with a strap, but the stag wasn’t lying. Part of his reason for being in this facility was to have his natural desire to mate with females pushed from his head and replaced with urges of homosexuality. Blackthorn would have believed that was an impossible task back in Thicket, but in Minopolis, he had seen a stag who had only ever been straight become aroused at the sight of a cock, that being the former king, who had been sent to this facility prior to Blackthorn for similar reasons.

Still, Blackthorn did not intend to have his heterosexuality stripped from him easily, and while he could not voice his opinions to this treatment, he could send death glares to the other deer to express his feelings.

“Oooooohhhhh…” one of the does moaned, grabbing Blackthorn by the snout, tilting his nose in her direction to get a better angle to rub her snatch on, “Doctor, can we move on to the next phase?”

The other doe took hold of Blackthorn’s muzzle, and turned his face her way to take a turn grinding her clit against his nose. “Pleeeeaaassseeee?”

“The experimental sample of passion fruit juice I gave you two is kicking in hard, I see.” the stag commented, pulling out a notepad and jotting down some observations, “Go ahead, but try not to let your libidos get the better of you.”

The doe rubbing her moist slit on Blackthorn’s face shoved the other away the moment she was given permission to proceed. “Me first!” she declared, the burning hunger for sexual fulfillment clear in her eyes.

The next thing she did was straddle the bound stag’s head, wrapping her thighs around his skull, her legs and vaginal lips covering his eyes like a blindfold. Blackthorn reactively tried to move out from under her, but strapped down as he was, there was no means of escape from the sex-guided doe. She sent a few more rubs across the bridge of the stags muzzle, but then, without warning, lifted herself up off the ground a bit and planted her pussy on the tip of his nose, pressing down on it with the full weight of her body. The muzzle slipped partially past the doe’s dirty lips, the passage long since accustomed to taking full sized minotaur cocks into it without the use of medicine, placing Blackthorn’s snout within it.

Blackthorn thrashed his head around a bit from this unexpected event, but his efforts only managed to get his muzzle deeper inside the female deer. Soon her wet pussy had enveloped most of the buck’s mouth, and her ass had taken up the spot her crotch previously had over Blackthorn’s eyes.

The other doe, jealous that her associate had claimed Blackthorn’s muzzle for herself, resigned to relieve her sexual tension in other ways. Climbing onto the table holding the male deer in place, she draped her form over his body, face looking at his still flaccid dick, ass held up in front of her colleague. With nary a word, she took hold of the lifeless cock, rubbing it across her face while moving back and forth, pressing her breasts into Blackthorn’s stomach in order to massage her aching erogenous areas.

From there, the two does went at Blackthorn’s body at their leisure, one laying atop him rubbing herself on him while stroking and licking his cock, while the one still on her hooves bounced on his face in small hops as she masturbated her tits and clit, the buck having to take quick breaths when she hopped up to keep from asphyxiating. It got all the worse for the stag when the sensation in his urethra returned, as when the numbness faded, he felt the prickly feeling of pain that happens when nerves come back to life all throughout his urethra. It was horrible, the tiny pin pricks going from the tip of his shaft to the insides of his ass, leaving behind a soreness in the spot the other stag had pressed his rod against.

This restoration of sensations also returned the feeling in his cock, and the ability for it to become erect. With two lovely does using him as their sexual plaything, one flooding his sense of smell with the scent of sex, and that other directly fondling his genitals with her tongue, he didn’t stand a chance of resisting their sexual assault. His dick once more became erect, swelling to its full size in seconds.

When the doe at his crotch noticed this, she quickly shoved his dick into her mouth, wanting the feeling of a solid piece of cervid meat pressed against the back of her throat. She wasn’t the only one to spot the erection though, and before she could truly enjoy Blackthorn’s girth, the stag in the lab coat came over and took the Thicket deer by the balls.

“That’s twice now,” the stag said, Blackthorn’s attention too divided for him to notice. To him, he thought that it was the doe directing her attention to a part of his crotch she hadn’t touched yet. Then he felt the flat end of the stag’s rod press directly against one of his testicles, and he realized the trouble he was in.

He let out a scream, but it was lost within the depths of the deer pussy wrapped around his face. Not that the yell would have stopped what was to come, as the stag turned on his rod and instantly sent the ovular organ to a state of numbness. He then pressed the rod on the other testicle, and activated it on that one as well. Blackthorn’s dick deflated on the spot, leaving the doe with what felt like a wet noodle in her mouth, and a lack of fulfillment from the disabled sex organ.

“You had better learn to restrain your biological urges,” said the stag scientist to his captive patient, “Because you’re about to learn in a few minutes how bad the consequences are if you don’t.”

Blackthorn had a good idea what the other stag meant, and in a few minutes from now, the most vital parts of his reproductive organs were going to feel like they were covered in stings. Even compared to everything else he had endured as a slave, that suffering was going to be an intense experience.

As if to add insult to upcoming injury, the doe on his face managed to reach climax. Her passage, already wet with her juices, flooded with the fluids, spilling all over the parts of Blackthorn’s face that were trapped inside her. The liquids hit him in such volume that it seeped into his nose, and managed to slip between his lips and teeth to make the flavor of the doe splash on his tongue.

“You’re gonna drown him like that,” the stag in the coat said.

The doe, in her state of climax, slowly picked her trembling hips off of Blackthorn’s face, spilling the fluids pent up inside her all over it. The buck spit and sputtered, coughing out as much of her dirty doe juices as he could, and while doing so he found that he could separate his jaw from the upper part of his muzzle.

“You bastards,” he said brazenly, “Do you really think this will break me?! I am a trained guard of Thicket, top of my field. If the minotaur could not make me bend, their lackeys will hardly do better.”

“Looks like your pussy pulled his mouth strap off,” stated the other stag, “No matter. If he wants to talk, it’s not going to change what’s going to happen eventually.”

“How can you all just stand there and do the bidding of those barbarians?” Blackthorn asked in anger, “Have you no shame? No pride?”

“Domitius…” said the stag in the coat, trying to start a sentence.

“Blackthorn.” the bound stag corrected.

“Domitius.” the other male deer stressed, “Do you know where you are?”

“In a minotaur city.” Blackthorn said with confidence.

“You are in Minopolis,” the stag in the coat explained, “The island of Minopolis, formerly the island of Antlertis, though saying it is an island is a little disingenuous to its actual size. It has over a dozen cities on it, including a few locations used purely to raise non-minotaur offspring in a controlled environment. You are at their capital, located in the center of this nation, surrounded by miles of open sea in all directions. There is no leaving this place unless the minotaur allow it.”

“It can’t be as bleak as you’re trying to describe it.” Blackthorn rebutted, still wanting to cling to hope that there was some way to set this right.

“While I can respect your optimism, I can tell you that slaves have tried many times to escape, and not a single one of them have ever accomplished it. We are too isolated here, and no one even knows we exist to come and save us. While it might not be ideal, it is better just to obey. The minotaur even start to ease up on you after a while if you just do as they tell you. They’re not monsters, they just want to keep their species going.”

“You can’t be ser-” Blackthorn suddenly released a scream, cutting himself off as feeling returned to his balls. It was incredibly painful, more than even an experienced warrior like himself could bare. Whatever thoughts he had before were now set aside for the awful feeling of a thousand small needles jabbing into the most sensitive part of his body.

“I didn’t want to do this, but...” said the stag in the coat, “One of you, bring in patient #2012.”

The doe who used Blackthorn’s face as a phallus answered the stag’s command, being the one who could leave the room the easiest. During her absence, the others remained mostly silent, with Blackthorn more concerned about the agony in his sack than exchanging insults with the other male deer. It took a while for those sparks of sensation to stop tormenting the stag, but the stings did cease eventually, leaving behind a lingering soreness in his now swollen testicles, around the time the room’s door opened and the Antlertean doe returned with who she was sent to retrieve.

“Here she is,” said the doe, bringing in by leash another female deer.

Not another Antlertean, but one of the does from Thicket, heavily restrained in thick leather bindings, which consisted of a gag, a blindfold, and a set of arm binders that held her arms in place under a pair of large breasts, but just above a big, rounded belly. Blackthorn didn’t know this deer, able to make out enough of her features to determine that, but of course she didn’t have to be someone he knew. The familiarity of another deer from his homelands was enough to touch a nerve in the stag.

“2012 here has been in our care for a moment,” said the unbound stag, taking a seat on what small amount of space he could find on Blackthorn’s table, “Mostly for observation purposes while she goes through her first pregnancy cycle, since she most certainly will be giving birth to a minotaur her first time by the looks of it.”

Blackthorn could see what the stag meant, as this doe who was probably still in her first trimester looked more like she was going into her third, her belly bulging out to what looked to be its limits.

“To be honest,” the stag in the coat went on to say, “If not for the safety protocols, I wouldn’t even have her bound. She has been very compliant.”

“You’re lying!” Blackthorn protested, but when he did the Thicket doe’s ears drooped slightly in shame, a gesture that Blackthorn took notice of.

“Believe what you want, but not all of your people have been resistant to their integration into minotaur society. In a generation, most won’t even feel a need to resist anymore. Your people will get used to the role of servitude, give up on the idea of freedom, or will find things that fulfill their lives just as much as anything they had while free, while their children will have grown up in a world where they know no other life than to be servants.”

“And what part of that do you fall into?” Blackthorn asked the buck, knowing he couldn’t be that old himself.

“Does that really matter?” the stag replied, “The only thing that does matter is that there is no going back to the way things were. From this point on, you have two choices. Fight a lost battle for something you can never get back, or… learn to accept it and build something good out of a bad situation.”

“Do you really believe the things you are saying?” Blackthorn said, still not convinced, not wanting to believe that this was all they had left, even if what the other stag said was true.

“The only thing I can believe is what I see,” said the other stag, “And what I’ve seen is that like it or not, the rest of our lives belong to our Minotaur masters.”