Offer to help him

"I'd rather stay, if it's all right with you," you say.

The centaur stares at you for a moment, his eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Well, you seem like a nice fellow," you say, "and I'd like to help you, if I can."

"Not that I'm questioning your altruism, but why would you want to help me? You don't know me, and surely you know what I'd have to do to you."

"Fuck me, yeah, I know," you say. "And it's not completely altruistic. If that bastard sorcerer is hoping to see me ****, he's going to be disappointed, but if you fulfill your part of the bargain, he'll have to fix your leg, and I'd love to stick it to him for what he's done to me."

"Now, that is a motivation I can understand," the centaur says with a grin. "C'mon, it'll be easier back at my post." You walk beside the centaur, what you had taken for prancing while you were half-asleep now clearly a significant limp that was almost painful to witness.

"So, what's you name?" you ask.

"Kivano," he says. The name sparks a memory from a nearly forgotten class you'd taken while studying to get your Adventurer's license. At the time, learning the three main dialects of Bequari, the centaur language, had seemed like busywork to keep you occupied and out of trouble. After all, how often does one talk to a centaur in their native language?

"Doesn't that mean 'Lion'?" you ask. Ironic, or a cruel reminder?

"That's right," Kivano says. "My full name is Dosa'ali Nal i'Kivano Asu, but that is too hard for most people to say. It means 'Pulled From the Lion's Jaws', a phrase that also means to be spared a terrible fate. Ironic, isn't it?"

"Not if we can get that sorcerer to keep his promise," you say. You round a corner and find a large, cubic something in the middle of the passage. As you get closer, you realize that it is a huge bale of hay, as tall as your waist and nearly as large as a bed, draped with a worn blanket. "This is convenient," you say, sitting on the edge, your legs dangling. "So, how do you want to do this?"

"The sorcerer said that in order to be rewarded, I had to make you scream and cum. He also said it would be worth extra if I came in your ass or your throat, but I don't expect you to put up with something like that. Since you are being so accommodating, it seems only fair to let you choose how we go about doing this."

"Before I decide, may I see your cock?" you ask. "How big you are may make some things impossible."

"Well, the sorcerer assured me that I would not hurt you," Kivano says. "He put spells on you to make sure, but...I suppose that is a fair request. You'll have to give me a few moments, I can't just make it appear like some folks can."

"I can help with that, too," you say, sliding off the hay bale and sinking to your knees beneath the centaur. Your hands glide over his silky hide, his pendulous, black balls so large it takes both hands to cup them. You trail your fingers over the fleshy sheath that protects his cock, feeling it warm and swell as the meat within hardens. Your eyes widen as his impressive rod emerges, the blunt head mottled pink, but the shaft a deep, lustrous black. Running your hands up and down his massive cock, you marvel at the girth of him, the thick, ropy veins just under the sensitive skin, the way his tool twitches and responds to your touch.

He is huge, and you can't imagine fitting him in your mouth or your ass, but the sorcerer did say the spells would help you, and he apparently told Kivano the same thing, so maybe it'll be okay.