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The roaring in his ears of thousands of spectators was still not enough to drown out the rhythmic wet slaps and moans that twisted his stomach in knots. Lavan could only watch slack jawed and eyes wide as the Minotaur sank its massive cock into his father's ass, over and over and over. The defeated warrior was helpless in his gasp, lifted off the ground in a brutal headlock, his legs almost behind his head. The Minotaur's huge arms clamped the man's legs in place between its biceps and forearms, while grabbing onto the gladiators' pecs like a whore's breasts, even pinching and stroking the exposed nipples. Lavan was spared no details of his father's humiliation from his frontal point of view. His father's tongue lolled like a dog in heat, eyes half-lidded and fluttering. A seeming full foot of thick, veined, bovine cock disappeared into his hole, bulging his father's abdomen. His cock flopped with the impacts, leaking pre onto the sand.

There was no doubt it was his father, either. The Minotaur had stripped away all armor and most of his clothing after beating the man into the dirt. He'd lifted the barely conscious gladiator by a foot and pulled his helmet off, displaying the shamed man's face for all the world to see. Lavan recognized the course brown curls he had inherited, and the distinctive scars across his face that he'd always ask about before being regaled with war stories and smiles.

Damn his curiosity.

Lavan's father, Tristane, had dodged the questions about how he made his wages as a warrior when there were no wars to be fought. Lavan had finally learned the truth about his father's secret identity as a gladiator in one of the city's arenas from a poster he found blowing through the streets.

“Come witness the man that clashes with monsters and lives to tell the tale." It had boasted, under an illustration of a chiseled, helmeted warrior, his steel boot atop a prostrate centaur. Lavan had recognized the distinctive silver winged helmet as one he'd found hidden in their home. The revelation had thrilled him. His father, a fearless, ruthless gladiator. How exciting!

Lavan had told his father he knew with pride, only to see his father pale in distress. Tristane implored him to forget about the secret and never seek him out in the arena. He explained that wage fighting was meant only as a temporary measure until he could win enough for their move out of the city. Lavan had protested and pleaded. He wasn't ashamed of his father or worried. He wanted to see him fight. Tristane had refused coldly. The arena was no place for a decent young man like him, full of violence and debauchery. Lavan objected again, saying he was a man full-grown now at twenty winters old and perfectly able to handle such sights. Tristane was firm. His son was never to set foot in the coliseum. Ever.

For a while, Lavan obeyed.

Until…he just had to see.

And see he did.

He saw the monstrous Minotaur barrel down on the gladiator like an avalanche. He saw blow after blow break through the man's defenses. He saw his father's nude form was tossed around like a rag doll in the hands of the towering Minotaur.

It had seemed to be a fair fight at first, his father deftly dodging and parrying the beast's sweeping war-axe swings. He'd even disarmed the beast with a clever bait that led to the axe being embedded in the ground. Lavan had been cheering, amazed at his father's skill, until…the beast knocked him off his feet with a charge. Tristane fell hard. He didn't come to his feet fast enough. He was hurled across the arena by his ankle, wheeling through the air to crash in a heap against the wall, legs splayed over his head.

That was the first indignity. His father upside down, ass in the air. The next was far worse. The Minotaur advanced quickly and ripped Tristane's breaches clean open at the butt. Lavan was appalled to witness his father's bare ass for the first time, along with ten thousand strangers and a monster. The Minotaur had snorted with a sudden fire in its eyes. The crowd had gasped and jeered when the beast's long tongue shot out as it stooped, then tunneled the wet appendage straight into the gladiators exposed hole.

Lavan couldn't believe his eyes. The Minotaur hefted Tristane up by his haunches and writhed his tongue deep inside. Tristane for his part was snapped out of his daze, crying out obscenities and thrashing. The Minotaur simply hugged him tight against its broad, muscle-carved chest and dug into his asshole like a bear with a honeypot.

Lavan was completely sickened by the sight, then immediately stunned to hear raucous laughter. The crowd was loving this. Cheering for his father's obscene humiliation. Lavan saw no one come out to help. It was all some show to them.

And the show carried on.

The beast had been wearing a tattered rag of a loincloth. That garment was almost ripped open as the Minotaur's dick grew erect, tenting the fabric. It was then that the monster changed its assault tactic. One oven-mitt-sized hand grabbed Tristane by the ankle and lifted him high off the ground. The other pulled the helmet off and tossed it across the arena. After a roar of satisfied triumph, the Minotaur roughly shoved two fingers into the gladiators mouth. Lavan wasn't sure what the monster was doing until the Minotaur replaced the fingers with its pulsing cock. Even from a long distance, Lavan heard his father choke on it.

Lavan was stunned and mortified by the creature's obscene cruelty. But that sound snapped him out of it. He surged towards the edge of the arena, but the walls around the edge were topped with iron fences, spiked at the top for good measure. He thought for a moment of climbing, even testing handholds, before a man clamped a hand on his shoulder.

“What do you think you're doing, kid?" He shouted.

“I have to stop this!" said Lavan, shocked at the opposition.

“Well quit it! You'll only get yourself killed," the man glanced back at the arena and cracked a sly grin. “Just relax. He'll be fine. The fun's just started!"

Lavan looked at the gawker with disgust before whipping back at another loud gag from his father. He could only gasp the bars and yell for Tristane to fight back.

What shocked him most was that Tristane wasn't fighting back. The Minotaur drove his cock deeper into the gladiator's throat with a hand around his neck. Why didn't he bite the cursed thing off?? He then saw the beast's point of leverage…his father's own cock was swallowed up in the beast's cavernous, disgusting mouth. Any attack would result in a…painful…trade off. It seemed Tristane's only option was to gasp desperately for air around the throbbing member tunneling ever deeper into his throat.

The beast was now using a thrusting of its hips to drive the cock in and out of the warrior's mouth. The huge hairy balls slapped the man's face. Tristane moaned with each impact, desperately pushing on the beast's thighs for control and relief. The Minotaur uttered humming lows of satisfaction. Lavan caught sight of the snake-like tongue surrounding his father's cock. As if that wasn't enough, the beast used two fingers to probe into his father's wet hole again, keeping it open and stretched.

The sight of such perverse, violating, intimacy, here in public, between his father and a monster caused the strangest sensation for Lavan. Heat in his face, soreness in his stomach, weakness in his limbs. And…he almost gagged…a stirring in his pants.

Not now…not this…

He'd come to terms with his attraction to fellow men long ago. There was nothing wrong with it. Even his father agreed and always reiterated his support. But this…this was a much darker urge. He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts. The show continued in front of him, and he couldn't look away.

The Minotaur seemed to have his fill of Tristane's mouth, pulling the humiliated warrior's mouth off his cock with a wet sucking sound. Lavan's father fought frantically midair as the beast maneuvered him upright. The beast seemed unperturbed, securing each of the warrior's limbs, one after another, under his massive, veiny arms. With the man bound in his arms, the Minotaur coldly lowered him towards his monstrous cock.

“No! NO! Please no!!" cried Tristane desperately. The Minotaur took no heed.

The wet cock head pressed against the gladiator's hole, which Lavan could see he was tightening as much as possible even from afar. It slipped off once, twice, then popped in, eliciting a groan of pain from Tristane and a trembling snort of pleasure from the beast.

Pivoting its hips upwards, the Minotaur buried itself halfway in Lavan's father with a brutal thrust. The unmanly sound his father made was heart-wrenching.

And…arousing.

Unbidden, the thought of what that must feel like crossed Lavan's mind. A sudden bizarre aching in his own hole arose at the thought. All that hot, pliable meat, tunneling into his ass…what was it like?

Tristane expressed both looks of desperate pain and unbidden pleasure. His eyes unfocused, and his tongue lolled. The crowd was roaring now. Deafening. Ravenous. Dimly, Lavan realized they were shouting something in unison.

“Slut knight! Slut knight! Slut knight!"

What the fuck?

Lavan's mind was overwhelmed with the revelation, the dark erotic feelings and the shock of his father's shame. He had no idea what to think.

Tristane seemed likewise. The Minotaur began thrusting up and down, in and out of his hole. Each penetration opened him more, inviting the beast deeper into his gut. The Minotaur's eyes closed, tongue also lolling, enjoying the sensation with feral delight.

Lavan wondered if this was a novel pleasure for the Minotaur; if he'd never fucked a being almost half his size. The tightness must be…incredible.

Some part of Lavan's mind was yelling at him, imploring him to stop watching. To stop thinking about this sick display. To go home now. A louder part was drinking in the sight with taboo fascination. That part now fueling a painfully hard erection. Almost unconsciously, Lavan was pressing himself against the stone wall barrier, rubbing his cock gently in sync with the Minotaur.

The crowd roared when the beast first fully hilted in Tristane. The monster held there a moment, balls deep. Tristane's mouth was agape in a silent cry. The bulge was clear for all to see, the bovine cock stretching the warrior's carved abs from beneath. Then the real assault began.

The Minotaur pulled almost completely out, then sank in again fast. The impact of flesh on flesh sang with Tristane's moan, the Minotaur's roar, and the crowd's cheers.

“Slut knight! Slut knight! Slut knight!"

In seeming rhythm with the chant, the Minotaur pistoned in and out of the knight's ass with its full length. Lavan was awestruck at the sight. He wasn't sure how it was possible to fit that much flesh inside a human. Somehow, his father seemed unhurt. Mostly. Tristane's cries were hard to interpret…but…as Lavan looked at the man's face, the man who raised him, who cared for him, he thought, just maybe, he saw a whisper of a smile pulling at the edges of his mouth. A dopey smile like a drunkard.

Slap SLUT slap KNIGHT slap SLUT slap KNIGHT!

As mixed as the gladiators' expression was, the Minotaur's experience was obvious. His eyes were half lidded in ecstasy as his defeated enemy surrounded his whole monstrous cock in tight, slick warmth. The wet squelches were evidence of how much pre was lubricating his father's asshole. The beast's grizzly haired hands pressed into the soft flesh Tristane's ample pecs, grasping for purchase.

Lavan shook his head, even slapping his own face, trying to banish the taboo thoughts. This caused him to look around him and realize with shock that others weren't holding back.

Many men were now openly stroking themselves. Some through their trousers. Others, popping their hardened cocks over their drawstrings to stroke openly. Women fondled their own breasts or placed fingers down their skirts. He spotted one pair so inspired by the show that they started fucking each other right there on the bench.

Lavan never believed such depravity existed. Yet here it was. His father at the center.

The Minotaur pace was almost manic at this point. The beast jerked his father up and down his cock like a mere toy. A cacophony of slaps, grows, moans, cries and squelches reached Lavan over the din of the crowd. He felt an inexorable force on his mind and cock. A need so strong it finally shattered his resistance. He needed to feel connected to this physically. He finally touched his own painfully hard cock and began stroking furiously.

The Minotaur flared its nostrils and roared. After a second of pause, it hilted so far into his father, the shape of the cock head was clearly outlined through the man's abs. Lavan drooled at the sight. Waves of hot bull cum actually stretched his father's abdomen. His father cried out, starting with a low guttural shout, ending with a high feminine cry. Cum overflowed the warrior's ass and began to jet out in steaming globs onto the sand. The Minotaur's balls pulsed and pulled upwards with each wave of orgasm. The monster, in its triumphant bliss, bit Tristane's neck. Lavan was shocked at first, fearing for his father's life, but the bite was apparently light. Tristane's eyes scrunched closed and to Lavan's amazement, he came hands-free. An arc of white spunk shot across the arena as his father climaxed from his public despoilment.

Through his erotic haze, Lavan realized he'd painted the wall in front of him with his own orgasm. He clenched his teeth as another shock of pleasure electrified his whole body. From the sour, salty smell and cries of ecstasy all around him, he knew hundreds of others just had a similar experience.

Lavan pulled his fuzzy eyes up from his own mess and saw something surprising. The Minotaur had fallen flat on its back in the sand, panting with tongue lolling. His father was astride the beast, squatting and apparently working to keep the massive member inside of him. Lavan was amazed that his father was still capable of such a feat, let alone still conscious. There was a new look of determination on his face. He worked fast, squatting and rising, up and down, pumping the beast's cock with his ass by his own volition. The creature keened and began grasping at Tristane's hips weakly, trying to shove the man off, but failing. The crowd came to its senses as well and resumed cheering and chanting.

SLUT KNIGHT SLUT KNIGHT SLUT KNIGHT!!

The warrior looked back at his quarry. Finding the monster with eyes rolling back in the throes of forced stimulation, Tristane grinned fiercely. He pumped a fist in the air, prompting an explosion of applause. The chanting continued as Tristane rode the beast faster and faster. The pole of bovine meat filled him again and again, but this time, the warrior seemed unfazed.

Lavan's mouth was agape at the sight, almost as wide as his father's hole. His warrior father was fighting a monster with sex.

Tristane shouted a guttural battle cry as he reached a break-neck speed, his muscled, hairy ass bouncing for all to see as it enveloped the monster's cock. He rose almost full off, paused, then sat fully. The beast uttered a keening groan. It twitched involuntarily with a second orgasm, bucking its hips against the human. A fresh wave of cum spilled out of the warrior's ass, channeled like a brook across the contours of the Minotaur's clenched muscles.

And then, it fully relaxed. The beast passed out and went still. Tristane looked back with satisfaction and rose, legs trembling, off the monster's deflating penis. He gained his footing for a moment, then took a hand to his own ass. He cupped a portion of cum that was still flowing from him and raised it high for all to see. The uproar was deafening. The warrior took his hard won prize and licked it off his fingers.

Lavan watched the ritual with emotions too strong and confusing to comprehend. What had he just witnessed? What had he just done?? How would he live after this?? Knowing his father was…the slut knight.

. . .

The bowels of the arena were a network of corridors built from dark red sandstone bricks and illuminated with lamps and torches. Lavan had snuck in through a servant's entrance, mimicking their task-minded nonchalance. He walked briskly through the halls with a single-minded purpose: confronting his father.

Lavan peered in armories, stables, storage chambers and training pits without finding a sign of him. Servants passed here and there, not paying him much mind. He noticed one with a stack of folded towels heading the opposite direction and decided to follow. His hunch was correct, the servant placed them on a bench in front of a wooden door with steam emanating from the cracks. Surely after a “battle" that messy, his father would need a bath, Lavan reasoned. He ducked behind a corner and let the servant pass.

The sudden weight of what he was about to do, the sheer mortification that was about to befall them both, suddenly dawned on him. Lavan felt like an iron ball had dropped in his stomach. What am I doing?! This is madness!

He should've just left, gone home, gotten in bed, and pretended all of this was some hormone-riddled wet dream. He could just forget this, pretend his father was just a normal sell-sword and be content. Why had he ever ignored that warning? Lavan's embarrassment got the better of him, and he turned to hurry away…only to hear his own name in a shocked, familiar voice.

“Lavan?"

The young man turned and saw his father standing nude in front of the open bath house door. His only covering was a towel hastily covering his manhood. His cock; the one that made him all those years ago. The one Lavan just saw ejaculate, hands-free from a monster's breeding.

Tristane's usually deep, strong voice was strained with disbelief. “Son…what on earth are you doing here?"

Lavan opened and closed his mouth twice before a hoarse rasp came out. He wet his throat. “...d…dad? I…" He faltered as they stared at each other in mutual shock. Then, a sudden surge of anger filled the young man. “I should ask you the same thing!" He shouted. Tristane cringed. “What the fuck was that??"

Tristane closed his eyes in horrified realization. “...please…don't tell me. You saw…"

“YES!! I SAW! I SAW EVERYTHING!"

Tristane winced at the shout. “Son…"

“No, this is beyond the pale. I don't even…who even are you?"

Tristane looked desperate, “Please, son. It's not… I'm… I'm just…"

A new voice burst in, “How's that ass feeling, slut knight." The voice was like a tumble of boulders in a cave, deep and gravely. It was accompanied by a wet slap and Tristane flinching upright. A deep chuckle came through the door as the same Minotaur from the arena ducked under the threshold and emerged from the steam, clearing out a tall bovine ear with his finger. The massive hand with which he'd spanked Lavan's father stayed cupped around the man's bare ass. The huge black eyes caught sight of Lavan. The beast snorted, “Who's this cute lil' twink?" He asked casually. “Fan of yours?"

Lavan's jaw couldn't have fallen lower. Tristane's expression was numb with mortification. He kept his tired eyes on Lavan.

“This…young man, is my son: Lavan." The Minotaur's eyes popped. His hand froze mid-caress. “Lavan, meet Ordox, my…uh…fellow performer."