Introduction
Hank has always regretted the last time he saw “Rapunzel,” the woman who carried his first calf. He never asked for her real name, and he’s thought about her nonstop ever since. Then, six years later, he gets his wish for a do-over when he goes in to breed her a second time.
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Phoebe likes her job as a surrogate. Ever since she got too attached to her first client, she’s learned to distance herself from her work—that is, until she's reunited with him. When Hank tells her about their son, Milo, and breaks confidentiality to give her his name, Phoebe is tempted to look him up. But she has too many responsibilities, and it risks too much heartache, to get involved with Hank’s family.
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When a freak fire puts Hank and Phoebe on a real life collision course, can she really keep her distance from the single firefighter and their son?
Chapter 1
Phoebe
My hands are trembling, which I think means my nerves are getting the better of me. But who wouldn’t be nervous? After weeks of preparation, I’m now strapped down to the breeding bench with my legs wide open, ready and waiting for whoever might walk in the door to put their cock in me.
I was supposed to use the dilator more, but it was such a strange thing to do, trying to stretch myself open. They told me in the paperwork to use it for two weeks, but I only did it for one because I’ve been busy at work, and my sister hasn’t been doing all that well.
Still, I got the thing good and wide, and it’s hard for me to imagine what kind of monster might have a dick bigger than that.
The long hand on the clock hits the hour mark, and on cue, the door behind me opens. I hear a clomp clomp! as my guest enters.
Hooves? What kind of creature has hooves?
Fuck. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. Maybe signing up to carry a monster’s baby was an incredibly foolish decision. What if I can’t go through with it? What if I freak out? We have to have sex. Sex, with a complete stranger!
Oh, and then there’s the whole pregnancy part. If this works—which some hoofed creature in this room with me has paid good money for—I’ll be carrying his offspring for a good part of the next year, depending on the species.
“Gestation time varies,” the intake doctor at DreamTogether had said. So who knows how long the pregnancy could last? I can’t discount the pain of birth, either. I’ve never done it before, and I only have other people’s horror stories to inform me.
Hooves. Right. He could be a satyr, I suppose. Or a centaur. How would it work with a centaur?
“Hello,” a deep voice booms, and the door closes. I go shock still, like prey playing dead. Maybe if I don’t move, he won’t notice me.
“Hi.” My voice comes out weak and small. He can see all of me right now, from my ass to my clit. As he approaches me from behind, I wish I could cover myself. Instead, I’m out on full display, my legs spread so he has easy access to me. If he wanted, he could simply lube himself up and—
A large hand chastely touches my thigh. He strokes gently, like he’s letting me know he’s there.
“Are you nervous?” that deep voice asks.
“Ha,” I manage. “Me? No. I-I’m not nervous. At all.”
There’s a snort, which I feel against my back in a small gust. “Don’t worry. I am, too.”
This piques my interest, but I try not to turn my head to look at him. This is supposed to be anonymous. We’re not allowed to exchange any names or details, or we risk being terminated from the program completely. Though I don’t think it’s against the rules to know what species he is.
“But this is all for you,” I point out. “You wanted a baby and arranged this appointment.”
“That’s why I’m nervous.” That hand continues stroking my thigh comfortingly. “I’ve wanted this for so long, I don’t want to screw it up.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “How could you possibly screw it up? All you have to do is put your cock in there and let loose.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath behind me, and soon there’s another hand on my opposite thigh.
“‘All I have to do’?” my visitor repeats. His palm ventures up and over the swell of my butt in a soothing motion. I think it’s supposed to be soothing, but instead, it sends a shiver of electricity up my back. “Hmm.”
He doesn’t say more as he squeezes ever so slightly. Then his other hand moves toward the inside of my thigh, down to my exposed sex. I still don’t know who or what he is, but he can’t be human in shape with hands and fingers that size.
His touch is so close to my pussy that I pulse with anticipation, wondering when he’s going to cross the distance. I tighten my hold on the grips to calm my racing heart as he simply traces the outside of me, wandering along the tender flesh of my inner thigh.
“It’s not all I’ll do,” my visitor says at last. His finger slides over one of my lower lips, running along it down toward my clit. He pauses there, just shy of touching it, and huffs another heavy breath. I wonder when he’s going to pick up the bottle of lube they left on the side table and get on with it already.
Not that I’m too eager or anything. But, fuck, maybe this guy’s slow, easy tenderness is turning me on. Everything cranks up to ten when the soft pad of his finger glances over my clit, and my whole body shudders against the breeding bench.
The monster circles back to do it again, earning the same response. Languidly, he drags his finger down through the folds of my pussy, where I’m surprised to find I’m wet. All this teasing is winding me up, I guess.
He thoroughly soaks the pad of his finger there before returning to my clit. Now it glides easily, back and forth, and I gasp and jerk with each pass.
Soon, his other hand is slipping down between the cheeks of my ass like a heat-seeking missile. Once more, he teases me before going in for the kill, stroking my labia and spreading them apart. I can feel his breath against my pussy. Is he staring at me down there?
“Have you ever had sex with a minotaur before?” he asks after many long moments of silence.
I jerk out of my reverie. “No?” Though I suppose I know what he is now. A minotaur. Interesting. What does he look like? Is he one of those big, shaggy minotaurs, or a sleek black-and-white one?
He grunts, letting me know he heard me. I wonder if he’s always this quiet, or if he really is just as nervous as he said he was. And of course, now I’m wondering what’s different about his cock versus a human cock. I’ve never had sex with a monster of any kind before.
While he continues playing with my clit, which is making me wetter and, surprisingly, hungrier, his wandering fingers press into my pussy. I think he’s going to put a finger inside me, but instead he explores, like he’s studying the shape and size of me down there.
Then, he slips one finger in, and my body arches off the bench.
“Oh!” The sound tumbles out of my mouth. With his other hand still taunting my clit, that finger is exactly what I need.
“Do you like that?” he asks, slipping his finger in deeper and then pulling it back out.
I nod vigorously. “S-sure.”
He pumps it a few more times before I sense a second one nudging its way in. He’s playing me with both hands now, stroking two thick fingers inside me while gently rubbing my clit.
“Y-you don’t need to do this,” I manage. “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”
He pauses. “Well, I want to.”
Before I can reply, he pushes his fingers deeper, then curls them and strokes the inside of me. Oh, fuck, that’s perfect. There’s an erotic squelch as he fucks me faster with his hand.
“Ah, good.” That deep voice reverberates up my spine. “You have a wonderful pussy.”
Whoa. I tighten up at the compliment, and I hear him inhale sharply behind me. His circles on my clit speed up, and then, abruptly, they stop.
“Sorry,” he says quickly, and I hear the snap of the bottle of lube opening. “I really need to be inside you.”
I smile to myself, pleased that I’ve turned him on, too. There’s another wet noise as he slicks the lube all over himself, and then hooves clomp on the floor. He grasps my ass, and I feel something... blunt and large and wet pressing at my entrance.
“Oh, wow. You’re small.” He sounds less aroused and more concerned.
“Don’t worry. I used the stretching thing.”
I can hear the smile in his voice. “‘The stretching thing’?”
“It made my, uh, vagina wider. For you.”
“For me.” His voice travels through me again, going straight to my nipples. That wet object pushes harder, and then it slips through.
Oh, wow. Wow, is that bigger than I expected. My body strains because he’s even broader than the dilator.
The minotaur presses in a fraction deeper. “Is that okay?”
I can barely speak because every neuron in my brain is firing on all cylinders. “Y-y-yes, that’s... that’s okay.” Fuck. That’s more than okay.
“Good.” Then he slides in farther, more of that thick, wet cock asking me to open for it. On and on it goes until—
“Ow!” I bite my lip as he goes too far, and he bumps into something supremely sensitive.
“Fuck. I’m so sorry.” He pulls back out, leaving me completely, and I whine at the sudden loss.
“Wait, wait, it’s all right.” I want him back. I need that glorious stretch. “Try again, just not as deep.”
“If you’re sure—”
“Yes!” I tilt my hips up, spreading myself even more open for him. I hear a rumbling, bovine low. When he grabs me, he grabs me harder, clenching my flesh with his fingers as he slides inside me again.
Oh, that’s good. My earlier pain utterly forgotten, I roll back into him.
“Damn,” he whispers to himself. “You feel so good. So tight and—” He reels his hips back, then shoves his cock into me again, “—so wet for me.”
I nod rapidly, moaning as he maintains that even pace, only reaching in partway. He’s so thick inside me that I can’t even clench, can’t even flex, and my body feels as if it might split apart at the seams.
And then, a finger brushes over my clit.
I gasp and my muscles tense, and my minotaur moans in return.
“So that’s how I make you come.” He lets out a thoughtful sound, and his finger picks up speed as he ventures just a hair deeper.
“There!” I cry out. That’s where I need him. The strange head of his cock is rubbing over a wonderful spot, something that sends sparks of pleasure up into my throat.
He pauses, then withdraws slightly and pushes in again, repeating the motion. My voice comes out garbled, and I grip the breeding bench even tighter, bewildered that some stranger could pinpoint how to turn me into mush so easily. It’s like he can read my body as he repeats this over and over, applying a steady pressure, until my moans have become helpless cries.
I’ve never been fucked like this before, and the worst part?
I’m never going to see this guy again.
Chapter 2
Hank
The way my surrogate’s waterfall of blonde hair cascades across her back, sliding to and fro with every thrust of my hips, is like the most beautiful artwork. I’m mesmerized by her, by the bouncing of her perfect ass, the sweet clenching of her pussy, the escalating volume of her moans.
Rapunzel. That’s what I decided to call her as soon as I saw the straw-colored hair that looks like it would be marvelously soft under my fingertips. I don’t dare touch it—that seems personal. But then I look down at my cock buried nearly halfway inside her and wonder why touching her hair would be too far over the line.
You only live once. I bury my fingers in those yellow locks as I slide into her again. Her head tips back, and I wish I could see her face as she moans.
Rapunzel. I hope I get to visit her again. I hope this isn’t the last time I get to sample this incredible woman, because next time, I want to get even deeper. I want to train her sweet body to take me, and then fuck her like this many, many more times.
Ah, damn, this isn’t good.
I’ve scrimped and saved for years just to have a child of my own, which isn’t an easy feat on a firefighter’s salary. Now I’m going to make sure I breed a calf into this lovely human, and what a baby we’ll make.
But before I do that, I’m going to make her scream. It hadn’t been in my plan, but now that I’m here, I want to make her come apart before I stuff her full. That’s the least I owe her for doing this for me—for signing up for DreamTogether and making my wish for a family possible.
I target that place inside her that makes her cry out and try my best to thrust only to that depth, ignoring the way my cock is aching to go deeper, to fuck her faster, to come all over her and cover her in my smell. Closing my eyes, I focus on the sound of Rapunzel’s escalating cries, the movement of my hand on her clit, trying to ignore the way my balls tighten and ache with my need to release inside her.
She’s so tight now, impossibly tight, and I shiver, grinding my molars together as I try not to let off. I just need to maintain my methodical attack, and—
Rapunzel’s scream echoes around the room. Her body clamps down around me, and the overwhelming pleasure of finally letting go nearly bowls me over. I slam into her, sheathing myself as far as I safely can, and my eyes roll back in my head as I shoot everything out. I pump again, trying to get it as deep inside her as possible, hoping it makes it where I need it to go. As much as I would love to do this again, every visit is an additional cost, and there’s only so much I can afford.
I nearly collapse on top of her, my haunches shivering underneath me with the force of my climax. I look down at where my cock is buried inside her, and white cum dribbles out from her pussy, which is spread wide around me.
“Holy fuck,” Rapunzel mutters, shivering. “I almost blacked out.”
I wonder if that’s a good thing or not. I don’t want to part from her, so I stay that way, propping myself up on the sides of the bench. I’m hypersensitive now, but my cock is also still alert, to my surprise.
It wants to fill her again.
“Are you ready?” I ask over her shoulder, sweeping up her blonde hair into my hand and then running my fingers through it. She lets out a mewl as I move inside her, staying deep but rocking back and forth.
“For... for what?”
“For me to put a calf in you.” There’s a wonderfully obscene sound as I pull back, sending my cum sloshing out of her, then thrust in again. She moans pitifully, and her pussy responds in kind, flexing around me.
Good. Very good.
“Yes!” Rapunzel cries out as I set a languid, easy pace, warming her up again for me. “Put one in me, please!”
That’s all the encouragement I need.
I fuck her again, grabbing her ass this time, and I don’t even need to touch her clit to make her scream and fall apart.
I think I’ve found the perfect woman for me. I wonder if there’s some way to find out who she is. Maybe I could take her on a date. Get to know her better.
But all that’s against the rules. DreamTogether is very clear about the anonymity factor, and I risk losing everything by crossing that boundary between us. Still, as my cum spurts out of her, dripping down onto the floor as I pant over her, her screams still hanging in the room—I think that I’ll regret not knowing who she is.
I wish I had a choice.
When the speaker comes on to tell us we’re finished, I finally withdraw, my cock spent, and reach for the towel to clean her up. Rapunzel trembles, and she is good and red from where I took her. It is a beautiful sight, still wide from where I was inside her, dripping from how I stuffed her.
What is Rapunzel like? What does she do outside these walls? I am curious about all these things as I clean myself off, too, then put my boxers and pants back on.
“Thank you,” she says weakly. I pause with my hand on the button of my jeans, my tail flicking as I listen. “You didn’t have to... do all that.”
“Oh, I did.” I stroke her ass as lovingly as I can. “I very much did. I hope that... it all goes well.”
Her head droops. “I hope so, too. Well, it was good to meet you.”
“You, too.” With one last pat, I depart the room, wondering what just happened to me.
* * *
I can’t stop thinking about Rapunzel afterward. My thoughts have been riveted to her ever since I left that room, and they don’t stop barreling onward even as I reach my empty house.
I live in a majority human city because it’s easiest access to the fire station. Most firefighters are monsters, simply because we have the size, stamina, and helpful additional features to make us more effective. I work alongside a gargoyle who has stone skin during the day, and he can break down a flaming door without getting a burn.
Handy.
I look through the dark window into my house and shake my head. I bought this place nearly six years ago, when I was in my mid-twenties and thought I’d be settling down soon with a wife and family. That had been my hope, anyway—but a few years in, and still no sign of her.
That’s when I started saving for DreamTogether.
I push open the door and flip on the lights. It’s easy to imagine this house filled with excitement, laughter, my partner waiting to kiss me when I come home, and my children grabbing onto my legs. Now that possibility is at hand, minus the partner. It will be me and my future child. Mom and Dad have happily signed on to help out, and Mom is thrilled at the prospect of getting to babysit her future grandchild while I’m away at work.
My schedule is so all over the place that dating just doesn’t work for me. And maybe I’m choosy, but it’s hard for me to... well, get it up. Generally.
Today, on the other hand, was new. Rapunzel spoke to me in a way no one ever has. It was as if I could smell that she was right for me, and I hope today isn’t the last time I see her.
* * *
I wait and wait for a call from DreamTogether. My surrogate will be taking a pregnancy test daily, checking to see if my sperm has taken. If it doesn’t work within three weeks, they’ll set up an appointment for just before her next ovulation.
Fourteen days after my visit with Rapunzel, my phone rings. I’m at work on the bench press, and I set down the bar with Ron’s help as I run for my phone.
“What are you so excited about?” Ron calls after me. I’ve been jumping up at even a spam call, wondering if I’ll get to see her again, or if my new baby is on the way.
It’s DreamTogether. I smash the answer button and hold the phone up to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hello! This is Dr. Hodgens, and I’m calling because we have some positive results here from your surrogate.”
I should be far more elated than I am at this news. Instead, all I can think is that I won’t get to see Rapunzel again.
“Congratulations!” the doctor says on the other end. “Now, pregnancies are touch and go in the beginning, so don’t get too excited until we’re three months in...”
I stop listening because I already know what he’s going to say. I’ll get updates here and there from the doctor, who will relay information from my anonymous surrogate. Now the ball is rolling, and someday soon, I’ll finally have what I’ve always wanted. A child of my own.
But something aches inside me, too, because I might have found the woman for me—only to lose her the moment I found her.
* * *
After that, I count the months.
One. Two. Three.
I get another phone call saying that the pregnancy is going well, and I’m left with a mixed bag of feelings.
Rapunzel haunts my dreams. I hear her cries, feel her pulse around me, and wake up panting and sweating at the memory of her.
Where is she? What is she doing? I wish I knew. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I make crazy plans, trying to figure out how I could get in touch with her.
But then I would sacrifice everything.
Eight. Nine. Ten.
The time draws nearer, and I’m a bundle of nerves. How is Rapunzel faring with our calf inside her? What kind of father will I be? It feels like I haven’t truly slept since I first went to that room and bred her.
It’s right at the start of the eleventh month that I get the call.
“Your surrogate has gone into labor,” the doctor tells me. “Get prepared for our call to come pick him up.”
Him. I’m going to have a son. Finally, after all the money and all the waiting, I’m going to be a dad.
I wait on the edge of my seat for the next call because the room upstairs for the calf has been ready for months. I hope that Rapunzel is all right, that the birth isn’t too difficult for her. I wish I could be there, holding her hand, watching as our infant comes into the world.
I stay up all night waiting, and it’s only when I’m starting to doze off in the morning that my phone rings.
“Your son is waiting for you.”
He’s perfect. Milo is perfect. He looks just like me, as the doctor predicted—the monster genetics always win out. But he has bright, almost neon-blue eyes that shine out from his speckled white and brown face. I can only see them when he stops crying, but they are beautiful.
Hers. That is the piece of Rapunzel I’ll always have.