Centaur’s Toy, Lia Avanna

The set-up for this story is that protagonist Karina is kidnapped (from a brothel? what?) by a group of centaurs. They drug her and, on orders of the boss centaur, do lots of sexy things with her. But we only get that from flashbacks from the day after, when she awakes in a clearing in a forest too dense to escape. It turns out that the centaurs are keeping her as a spoil of war (another what?).

I don’t usually read or write non-consensual sex, but this story walks the fine line between consent and non-consent. Karina, strangely, loves the rough treatment she gets from the centaurs. She wonders if the drug she was given somehow reprogrammed her to like fucking centaurs. But not for very long, because more centaurs.

The foreplay consists primarily of a marathon of blowjobs. This was a disappointment to me. I guess I’m not that into blowjobs. I could be, though, I’m not against them. One of the elements of monster erotica that I love is the potential to, shall we say, broaden the horizons of the reader. As a writer, I challenge myself to write erotica so compelling that it makes people hot for things they never would have thought to get hot for. But the key is the writing. If it’s written well, it works. If the writing is mediocre, I just might fall asleep repeatedly in the middle of the action (which I did—I had to finish reading the story the next day). So, this series of huge centaur cocks flooding Karina’s mouth with come just doesn’t do it for me. For someone who fantasizes about giving endless fellatio, it might well.

Eventually the boss centaur comes back to finish things up, and the action gets a little more interesting.

One thing that puzzled me was that the centaurs, all of them with cocks, are often referred to with a feminine pronoun. I’m guessing Avanna isn’t trying to make a statement about gender fluidity, so I have no idea why, for example, she says of the boss centaur, “She grinned wickedly, showing her straight white teeth, oddly dashing in her proud princely face.”

Conclusion, not my favorite monster erotica, but it has its moments. Definitely not the worst I’ve read.

Extra Free Monster Erotica

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I know I’ve told you already that I’m giving away monster erotica stories every weekend this month. But it turns out that because of calendars and things, I had to finish up the “Summer of the Centaur” free days this week. So, today only, not one but two stories are free! I’d already scheduled a free weekend for “Bigfoot Bangs the Militia,” and today is the last day of that special. Today and tomorrow (Monday), “Summer of the Centaur” will be free.

The remaining weekends in June will feature a rotation between “Bigfoot Bangs the Militia” and “Dragon of the Sheela Na Gig.”

Of course, you can borrow any of these titles free at any time if you have Kindle Unlimited. “Lure of the Prairie Monster” is only $.99 every day, and also available at other retailers, such as Barnes and Noble and Kobo.

See my Amazon author page for a list of all titles and their current prices.

Free Monster Erotica Every Weekend in June!

DRAGON

This past weekend, “Dragon of the Sheela Na Gig” was free on Amazon. If you missed it, you still have a chance to take advantage of great monster erotica deals. June 3-5 will see three days of free “Bigfoot Bangs the Militia,” and the featured title on June 10-13 will be my biggest seller, “Summer of the Centaur.” After that, there will be three days of surprise free stories each week, for free monster erotica every weekend in June.

How to keep track of all the details? Best would be to follow me on my Amazon page. Then you can see at a glance what is on special from week to week.

Also worth noting, my original monster erotica story, “Lure of the Prairie Monster,” isn’t published with Amazon, so they don’t let me give it to you free. But it’s the lowest-priced title I have every day at $.99, and you can also purchase it at other ebook retailers such as Barnes and Noble and Kobo.

If you read any of my stories, please consider posting a review on Amazon. Reviews are more valuable to authors than most readers know.

Either way, thank you for opening your mind to exploring with me the union of the wild with the civilized.

Coming Along

After several months hiatus as an erotica writer, I am finally making progress. I’m in process of uploading Summer of the Centaur to Amazon, so it won’t be much longer now before its release. Maybe you’ll be able to purchase this luscious story as a Christmas gift for the monster erotica enthusiast in your life.

Unlike my previous monster erotica offering, Lure of the Prairie Monster, this one will be available exclusively on Amazon, and if you watch carefully, you might catch one of five days when it will be free! I don’t know when they’ll be yet, but I’ll be sure to announce it here at Crea DelRand’s Monster Erotica.

Happy holidays, friends.

Summer of the Centaur, part III

A pristine forest, a young woman, an attractive centaur . . . part I, part II.

Their eyes met. Sylvia resisted the urge to scan his body and look at . . . all his parts. But his eyes were beautiful, sort of a mashup of green and brown, and his gaze held hers so intensely that she realized she couldn’t have looked away anyway. She thought she ought to say something, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

“Do you like what you see?”

Yes, she did, very much, but it would probably be unseemly to be overly enthusiastic. He face flushed. “I—yes.” Now, that sounded ridiculous, but better just to leave it there than make it worse by saying more.

He snickered. Or was it a nicker? “I’d show you more, but it’s all here,” he said, spreading his arms to show off those beautiful deltoids. The pectorals were pretty nice, too, enough but not too much. “While humans, on the other hand, insist upon covering themselves, as if there might be something shameful in a body, or some reason to hide. He leaned forward slightly and peered at her, as if to look into her brain, her soul. “Do you have something to hide?”

“Oh no, I don’t!” It was true, she really didn’t. She wasn’t interesting enough to have anything to hide. “I come here sometimes. I just . . . like this rock.”

There was a flicker of interest in his eyes. “It’s a fine rock. Suitable for a number of purposes.”

Sylvia was having a chance to have a conversation with a centaur, and she was really botching it. She wanted to say something witty or clever, but her mind was blank. She felt dizzy. If she hadn’t been lying on her back already, she might fall over.

He sniffed, his nose twitching slightly, and a hint of a smile crossed his face. He reached a hand down to help her to her feet. “Come up then, miss nothing-to-hide, and let’s see what you’ve got.”

Dazed, Sylvia took his hand and let him pull her to her feet, leaning heavily on his hand. He was strong.

“All right then, take them off.”

“Pardon?” Did he really mean—

“The clothes. Surely you don’t expect to keep yourself covered, while I stand before you honestly bare, do you?”

When she hesitated, he snorted, “Humans. Always have to be taught everything, like children.” He turned, as if to leave.

“Wait! I’ll take my clothes off.” She slipped her knit sundress over her head, then pushed the panties to the ground, slipping them off her ankles along with her sandals. That was all she was wearing, hadn’t been planning on getting naked with anyone today.

He turned back and looked over his shoulder, giving Sylvia an appraising eye. She felt her nipples responding to the cool mist. And maybe his gaze, as well. “Hm. Maybe this one has some potential after all. Well, will you take a ride, then?”

“Ride?”

With a small sigh, he leaned toward her, grabbing her around the waist. In one motion he hoisted her up and onto his back, his sleek chestnut withers between her legs.

“Hold on,” he said, as he took her arms and wrapped them around his torso. Then he loped off into the forest.

***

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Summer of the Centaur, part II

You can read the beginning of the story here.

It was a few days before she returned to the forest. She tried to bury herself in work, deciphering old tax forms and bank statements. But her mind refused to focus on the papers, and at night came the dreams of that supple torso, the light touch, the nicker in her ear. Finally she walked away from the pile of papers on the kitchen table, and out of the house, leaving the door open behind her.

There was a light mist in the forest, which intensified the colors. Sylvia had a feeling of being submerged in green as she walked the familiar path to her rock. She didn’t know what she expected; it seemed unlikely the centaur would be there again, just when she happened to come. But something unfamiliar was stirring in Sylvia, driving her, and she didn’t know what else to do.

She wanted to see that man. That creature. She wanted to touch him. Smell him. She wanted —she didn’t know what she wanted. What she wanted was something she’d never had.

Sylvia had played with boys a bit, kissed maybe, or explored each others’ bodies with their hands, but no boy she’d ever met seemed worthy of the most precious gift of her whole self, her whole body. They all seemed so sophomoric, so clean-cut, with their soft skin and neatly groomed hair. Shouldn’t a man be more . . . wild, maybe, less tame. No, she didn’t know what she wanted, but could it be that a centaur —with his powerful flanks, unruly hair down to the shoulders, a man so fully one with his animal nature that he was half animal —was exactly that?

There was enough sun coming through the mist and leaves to warm the big rock, so she lay on it, belly down, looking over the edge into the water at her dancing reflection. She dropped little pebbles and twigs into the pool, watching how they shattered her face into chaotic bits of light. After a while she knew that nothing was going to happen here, and just when she had decided that this pebble would be the last, and then she would get up and go back to the house, she watched her reflection resolve back to her face, with another face behind it.

Sylvia rolled slowly onto her back. He had somehow managed silently to place a hoof on the rock beside her, and now he was directly above her, so she was looking up at his abdomen and chest. His hands were on his hips again, and he smiled, a proud, confident smile.

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Summer of the Centaur, part I

Sylvia had always known there were centaurs. Since she was a girl, she’d seen them occasionally, a flash of white flank between the trees, in the forest behind her grandmother’s farm. Sometimes when she wandered there, following the stream that glinted and gurgled over the rocks and led into the wild mountains, she might hear the distant thud of galloping hooves or a throaty laugh that always seemed to be just behind the next tree. Of course they wouldn’t let her get a good look, but they were unquestionably there.

It wasn’t something anyone talked about, though. If she mentioned anything about centaurs to her mother, she only looked away, with that disapproving grimace that Sylvia always hated to see, would do anything to avoid. When she spoke to her grandmother of those horse-men in the forest, the woman would simply smile a hint of a smile, then turn away and change the subject, leaving Sylvia to try to have a conversation with the steel-gray bun that was ever pinned primly to the back of her grandmother’s head.

Now Gran was gone, and Sylvia was left to manage the house and property alone. Her mother would have nothing to do with the place, but Gran’s will had insisted that the property be kept in the family. There was no one but Sylvia to care for it, so she was spending the summer here before going back to college in another state. She would spend hours struggling to focus on papers covered with legalese words she didn’t understand, or going through rotting boxes of dusty jars or rusty hand tools in the dirt-floored basement. When she could take no more of it, she went to the forest.

In the forest, the air was always fresh and cool. Sylvia breathed deeply of the scent of honeysuckle, feeling the relief of being out-of-doors again. There was a place she liked to sit and listen to the water, on a smooth flat rock that rose a few feet above the soil. The rock was half in and half out of the water, where it pooled below a waterfall about ten feet high. There was no place on earth  where Sylvia could find greater peace and solitude.

But on this day someone was there. He stood in the knee-deep pool, directly under the waterfall, head tilted back to drink deeply. Water ran down his bare shoulders and chest, and splashed off his chestnut back and flanks.

Sylvia froze. She’d never been this close to a centaur, and she didn’t want to startle him. It occurred to her that she’d been just a girl last time she’d seen one, and now that she was more mature, she appreciated his robust torso in a way she hadn’t before. She liked the curve of his deltoids over the shoulder, the contours of the muscles of the abdomen. His arms were bent, hands resting at the place where smooth fur melted into bare skin.

He finished drinking, then stepped backwards a step, and turned toward Sylvia. His eyes widened slightly, and a look came over his face that Sylvia couldn’t read. He reared up, arms stretched out and up, and shook the water from his hair like a dog. Then he turned and loped away.

Sylvia gasped—she must have been holding her breath—and followed, splashing awkwardly across the rocky pool, and into the trees beyond. She thought she saw movement ahead, and stumbled toward it, but couldn’t catch up. Though much bigger, he was more agile and clearly better at making his way through the underbrush than Sylvia on her mere two legs.

She stopped to listen. Was there a rustle off to the left? She turned her head, but saw nothing. Then behind and to the right, a nicker, so close she thought she could touch him. But when she turned, he was already gone, nothing but the bottom of his hoof throwing up dead leaves in her direction. She followed.

But Sylvia’s clumsy flailing through the forest was no match for the centaur’s agility. After a while, sweaty and scratched from ankle to eyebrow, she gave up and went back to the house. She was in a part of the forest she didn’t know, but she knew which direction to go, so it didn’t take long for her to find a familiar path.

***

In deep slumber, she dreamt of the centaur. She was in the forest at night. Faint moonlight filtered through the leaves of the trees, but darkness prevailed. Though she couldn’t quite see him, she knew he was there, watching her. She turned, paused, turned another way, then suddenly she felt a touch on the small of her back. Far from being afraid, she was thrilled, and leaned into the touch. The hand stroked up her spine, over the curve of the shoulder, up the side of her neck, behind the ear, into the hairline. The touch sent tingles through Sylvia’s body, down her arms and back, all the way to that special secret place she had never shared with anyone.

The hand moved down her front, tracing the collarbone, taking the curve of her naked breast, circling the areola with a touch lighter than a night breeze. The nipple contracted at the touch. Shivering with desire, Sylvia could hold herself no longer, and she turned to the beast, but he was gone.

She woke still shivering. She wanted him. Her desire was so intense, she nearly jumped out of bed and ran into the darkness right then. But she was held back by her fear of being lost forever in the forest.