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He should have known better than to travel through the forest. He’d been warned about its strange nature but took the shortcut through anyway and found himself hopelessly lost. No matter what direction Percival took he was always brought back to the same clearing, dominated by the same giant Oak. Whether it was along the river, through a cave, or down a path it did not matter for they all lead back to this place.
It reeked of mischief and it wasn’t a surprise. The Taura, Minotaur as they were sometimes called, were notorious victims of such Fae pranks. Pulled tails, calf fur and mohawks shaved right off, and even inaccurate and downright rude doodles of them with the heads of steer instead of their proper humanoid faces were quite normal. So Percival simply found a soft cushion of moss to lay on, and prepared to wait the trickster out. He was patient and wary but strangely, after only a handful of hours, fell asleep in the cradle of giant tree roots.
He really should have known better.
That’s how he found himself in this situation, startled awake in the late afternoon by weight between his thighs and a wet heat that sucked determinedly at his cock, his loincloth tossed carelessly to the side. He twitched and bucked helplessly in response, hooves scrambling anxiously against the ground. Despite his size and strength there was no escape from the firm grip the creature kept on his hips as it eagerly worked him over with its plump, pink mouth.
“Oh! What are you--?! Stop! Stop please--!” He begged, face red with humiliation.
The creature, a boy, ignored him and continued to suckle with a blissful expression on his face. Percival was held still by his unnatural strength as he sucked, and choked on the long length of him. A low sort of keening built in the back of his throat only to escape as a shocked, too loud, cry in the quiet of the clearing. Eventually the boy pulled off with an insolent pop and satisfied hum and lowered his head to massage and mouth at the heavy weight of his sack, as if to soothe and excite him further at the same time. Futilely he fought against the feeling as it built in a relentless wave.
Percival writhed against the ground in pleasurable discomfort, balls tight against his body while his cock throbbed an angry red and dribbled against his abdomen. The boy moved and laved lovingly at the generous girth of the Taura’s dick with his tongue and Percival moaned at the exquisite sensation. He was swallowed down again with enthusiasm and immediately brought to the edge by the hot pressure of it. A deep, reassuring sound thrummed in the boy’s throat and that was his limit. Much to his mortification Percival shook and came in thick, shameful pulses that were quickly and greedily devoured. He bellowed his pleasure and fell back against the ground glassy-eyed and dazed, thighs quivering in reaction and unable to gather his wits.
The stranger was a young man with a wide smile and bright, happy blue eyes. His body was almost petite in comparison to the Taura’s impressive musculature. He would not be moved from his perch on Percivals' torso and held tight to the rigid curve of his horns for balance.
“Hi!” He grinned. “My name is Merlin.”
He looked over the handsome face and solid build of the body he held captive. Percival worked to control his breathing and stared back with wide eyes and pink cheeks. Merlin was naked, hard and leaking against the broad planes of Percivals' chest, and utterly secure in his perch. It was as if the weight of the whole forest was behind his eyes and the power in his slight form. He had him right where he wanted him.
Percival licked his lips nervously, “What--? Why--?” he stuttered.
Merlin cut him off with a noisy kiss.
“This is my place, my forest. You’re very attractive you know, and kind. I like you.” He stated, looked over Percival again with a pleased smile and hungry gaze. “I don’t want you to go just yet. Stay?” Merlin ran his mouth over the sensitive skin of his ear as it twitched wildly under his horn, nibbled on the little golden hoop dangling there. “Please?” He breathed plaintively.
Percival sighed, resigned. Nymphs were notoriously difficult to say “No” to, so he didn’t even bother to try.