A Galloping Centaur

Many a nights you had spent roaming the forest, belly growling louder and louder with each passing hour until you of course fainted into the world of darkness. The hunger consuming you. Inwardly, you had just been cursing your lack of skill in hunting, having been pampered all of your life within the palace walls.

As you finally come back to the world of consciousness, you find that you are tied like a spit roast to the underbelly of a galloping stallion-- but no, you could hear talking with each bounce. Was it a rider?

"Darling maiden, do not fret. You will regain feeling shortly. You see, I had to numb you from the waist down for proper assurance of insemination."

The words were not registering in your head, but the aching feeling of being punched in the cunt and gut was beginning to surface. And soon, much to your horror, you began to feel indescribable pain and fullness in your belly. Something was shoved so far up your cunt that you could hardly breathe as the horse galloped fast and hard, not giving you chance to recuperate from every hard and brutal thrust your body was receiving. The sounds of audible loud groaning could soon be heard following your heavy gasps for air as the galloping horse came to a slow trot and finally began pumping a heavy load of hot and thick cream into your womb.

"....unhand me.... y-you heathen.."

You are to in shock to say anything more, nor able to properly take in the tall and lovely homes made of wood and hay all around...

"I am no heathen madam. I am a Centaur."