I continued walking, the path now sloping gently downward. "It's my job to make it work. People depend on me."
"And who do you depend on?" the voice asked, its tone softening. "Who eases your burdens? Who sees your struggle?"
The question hit me like a physical blow. I had no answer. There was no one.
"That's what I thought," the voice said, not unkindly. "You've been alone for so long you've forgotten what it means to surrender control, to let someone else carry the weight for a while. To give yourselfcompletelyover to pleasure.”
The path opened into another clearing, larger than the first. In its center stood a massive stone altar, ancient and weathered, its surface smooth from countless years of use. On the far edge was seated a statue, looking in the opposite direction. All I could make out were the broad muscular shoulders, a pair of tall horns, and a thin tail wrapping around the most muscular ass I’d ever seen.
“Do you wish to give in?” the voice asked, deeper and closer now than ever before. “To let go of your responsibility at last and just be yourself?”
“I… I don’t know how,” I replied, my voice shaking. “That seems impossible.”
“If it is what you want, I will make it happen,” the voice said. “All you have to do is let go, be honest, and to obey me without question.”
My heart hammered in my chest. “Are… Are you going to hurt me?”
“The first rule of the bathhouse is to always have consent,” it replied. “Should you wish to stop, you need only say the word.”
I stared at the statue, my pulse racing. The voice was right, I had been carrying impossible weight for so long I'd forgotten what it felt like to let someone else take control. The thought of surrendering, of not having to make decisions or solve problems or manage everyone else's needs, was intoxicating.
"I want to let go," I whispered, surprised by my own honesty. "I'm so tired of being responsible for everything."
"Good boy," the voice rumbled with approval, and I felt that same flush of pleasure spread through me, my cock twitching in response. "Then kneel before the altar."
My legs moved without conscious thought, carrying me across the soft grass until I stood before the ancient stone. I sank to my knees on the cool earth, my hands resting on my thighs as I gazed up at the statue's broad back.
"Tell me what you need, Julian," the voice commanded gently. "Not what your job needs. Not what other people need. What do you need?"
The question cracked something open inside my chest. When was the last time anyone had asked me that? When was the last time I'd even asked myself?
"I need..." I started, then stopped, the words catching in my throat. "I need someone to take care of me for once. I need to not think. I need to just... feel good."
"Such a perfect answer," the voice purred, and I felt warmth bloom in my chest at the praise. "You've been so strong for so long, carrying burdens that were never yours to bear alone. Tonight, I will carry them for you."
The statue began to move, muscles rippling beneath bronze skin as it turned. My breath caught as I saw him fully for the first time, a minotaur, massive and magnificent, with a human torso that spoke of incredible strength and the head of a bull crowned with curved horns. His eyes glowed amber, the color of whiskey caught in the sunlight. My gaze drifted downward to his groin, the sight of his massive cock and balls making me gasp.
He was beautiful, in the way that ancient and primal things are beautiful. Not polished or perfect, but raw and powerful. His massive chest was covered in a layer of dark fur that tapered down to his navel, then thickened again around his cock. That cock, easily twice the size of any human I'd ever seen, hungheavy between his thighs, half-hard and already making my mouth water.
"Stand," he commanded, his voice the same one that had called to me through the maze.
I rose to my feet, suddenly aware of my nakedness in a way I hadn't been before. Next to his massive form, I felt small and vulnerable, yet strangely unafraid.
"Look at me, Julian," he said, stepping closer.
I raised my eyes to meet his, those amber orbs seeming to glow from within. The heat radiating from his body was like standing near a furnace.
"My name is Lakovos," he said, reaching out to trace a finger along my jaw. His touch was surprisingly gentle for such a massive creature. "And tonight, you are mine."
A shiver ran through me at his words. "Yes, sir" I whispered, not even fully understanding what I was agreeing to, only knowing that I wanted it desperately.
"Good boy," he rumbled, and I felt that same flush of pleasure at his praise. "I'm going to take care of you now. You don't need to think. You don't need to decide. You only need to feel."
He circled me slowly, his hooves making soft sounds against the earth. I could feel his gaze on me, appraising, appreciating. When he stood behind me, I felt his hot breath on my neck, sending goosebumps across my skin.
"Such tension," he murmured, his massive hands coming to rest on my shoulders. His fingers began to knead the knotted muscles, and I couldn't help the moan that escaped me. "Your body carries far too much pain that doesn’t belong to you."
His thumbs dug into pressure points I didn't know existed, and pain bloomed briefly before melting into relief. I let my head fall forward, surrendering to his touch.
