Chapter 73 (Patreon)

Previously on Centaurus: After fleeing from a very interested crowd in the city markets Fey ends up outside a walled garden where a mountain lionkin ushers her inside away from any pursuit. There, she discovers that the lionkin had been looking for her, having travelled to the city after reading about Fey in a certain newsletter. Unfortunately, their hopes to make Fey the 'Sigma' of their pride are dashed when Fey reveals that she cannot not be with herms.

But that doesn't deter one of their number, Carmel, one of the biggest fangirls Fey had ever come across, and soon Fey found herself doing what she does best. Unfortunately, thanks to some interference from Lucy, she was thrust into her Gear 2 form, and accidentally fills not only the swimming pool but the walled garden itself, the cum line rising higher and higher until the garden was one great pool of white.

It was at that moment that Seth and the Bishop climbed the garden wall having tracked Fey down through the disturbance she caused in the markets.

Fey fled once again but was unfortunately cornered by Seth. Unwilling to fight him, she resorted to her last option: a scrap of dragon silk she had kept hidden. In a moment, she was gone from the city of Draconica and stepping free into a grand hall where Queen Amalia was in audience with her nobility.

Now, Chapter 73:

Fey decided that she must in some kind of a nightmare.

Hundreds of what looked like very important and very serious people were staring at her, all wearing extremely expensive and formal clothing fit for attending a Queen in her audience chamber, which was literally what they were attending.

That wasn't the nightmare part. The nightmare part was that Fey herself was drenched shoulder to hoof in her own seed, thick gloopy white rolling down her legs and sides in sheets, or forming large droplets that dripped from her barrel to plap loudly against the marble below. If that wasn't embarrassing enough though, she was still in her Gear 2 form, a pair of double erections exposed and fully in view below her barrel, each jaw-dropping penis so long that the tips reached between her front legs. The incredibly stiff things bobbed up and down jerkily as her momentarily forgotten heat reasserted itself with a fury, droplets of seed showering down with each stiff throb.

Fey's skin flushed and her breathing accelerated, both from her heat and the sheer unbridled shame. What the heck was this situation?! She felt like she was going to die of embarrassment, then resurrect as an undead centaur, and then die of embarrassment a second time!!

It seemed that the scrap of dragon silk here that her own scrap connected to was kept on Queen Amalia's person at all times, and Amalia had, of course, taken said scrap of dragon silk with her to meet her nobility, and thus had accidentally created the worst possible moment imaginable for Fey to jump through said silk.

"...Fey… what do you think you are doing?" said Queen Amalia, settling her shocked expression into a kind of bored curiosity, as if it were a perfectly normal thing for an oversized centaur covered in cum to appear out of thin air.

"I—I need your help!" Fey cried, not sure what the hell else to say.

Amalia tapped her chin in pretend recollection as the sea of eyes looked on aghast.

"The medical uh, health problem again?" the Queen mused calmly.

Fey glanced around at the stares, and increasingly, stares of distaste and hostility. She needed to get out of this situation, and quickly.

"Uhm, y-yes, it's my, uh, heart, it's going to explode!!"

In actuality, the only thing that was liable to do any exploding any time soon were her balls, which were feeling the consequences of her heat and rapidly filling out, an increased weight against the back of her thighs.

Queen Amalia nodded theatrically.

"I see, that is indeed an extremely serious and life-threatening ailment. In that case, I will call a adjournment on today's audience and—"

"Why does this…creature know you on a first-name basis, my Queen?" came a voice.

Fey turned her head to find a particularly large cowkin? Bullkin? In any case, it was a male with arms like tree trunks, a jewel encrusted sword on his hip, and a chest so broad that he appeared to be on the verge of bursting from his embroidered purple and gold doublet, the buttons strained tight.

He gave Fey a hostile glare from beneath a heavy brow punctuated by two enormous black bull horns, both trimmed with gold ornamentation.

Amalia pursed her lips, clearly annoyed with the interruption.

"Just a personal friend I met during my adventures. She was in need, and I helped her, as is befitting of a benevolent and wise Queen such as myself."

"A friend? You gave a random stranger you had only just met a piece of that thrice-cursed cloth and then brought a scrap back here, even knowing what happened last time? You put all our lives at risk! What if that accursed dragoness finds out?!"

"Are you questioning my judgement Marcus? I do as I will, and it is not your place to second-guess me as your Queen, for I am, in fact, your Queen."

Marcus's face descended into a disdainful sneer as she spoke.

"I do wonder for how much longer... This nation did not need you when you weren't here, and your judgement has appeared compromised since your return. This is only the latest questionable choice of yours. Perhaps your recent growth has caused… issues with your mental faculties, too much blood drawn away from your head?"

His gaze sharpened on the Queen, and Fey realised he was staring pointedly at the queen's chest.

Her chest size was significantly larger due to being with Fey back in Draconica and had grown larger still since Fey had last seen her. Her unique even amongst cowkin stacked triple cleavage of six breasts appeared on the verge of bursting from her specially tailored, gold-trimmed black blouse. She was certainly better dressed compared to when Fey had freed her from the gang run dairy. She truly looked the part of someone very important now, more so than Fey had realised in the short time they had been together.

She wore her size well, comfortably draped on her ornate throne, despite her body-dominating triple chest. It helped that the queen was quite strong, with a healthy, almost barbarian strength hidden within her arcing curves and broad hips, a contrast to the overdressed florid nobility in audience before her. Her look was completed by long wavy golden hair that pleasingly spilled around her shoulders and over her top most breasts, all framing piercing aquamarine eyes which held a steady Royal confidence. In total she was Breathtakingly attractive in Fey's opinion.

Still, despite the charming visual appeal, Fey got the distinct impression that there was some kind of animosity between the cowkin Queen and her cowkin noble subjects, an electric tension that filled the air.

Amalia rolled her eyes and rose to her feet, her black boots coming down on the ground with all the heavy weight that her enlarged bosom possessed. Not that it seemed to slow or make her any less agile. Her lower breasts easily reached most of the way down her thighs, even in the well-designed cupping of her levitational bras, yet she moved fluidly, the mass simply part of her motions.

She stepped up beside Fey and smiled comfortingly up at her. She had to crane her neck back a lot due to Fey's ten foot and one inch of height which dwarfed her five and a half feet.

"Has it really come to this, that our nation's people are so bitter and callous that they would turn away a poor little centaur who fears for her life?"

She patted Fey's front. Fey let out a quiet whimper at the touch, her heat boiling over. Both cocks bucked violently, slapping up against her barrel with a loud meaty thump and spraying a double spray of cloudy precum from the tips, splattering up the side of Amalia's breasts in a sticky, sloppy mess. A half-pint of precum spilled over the top to run down into her top canyon like cleavage in rivulets.

The smile froze on Amalia's face.

"Ah, th-there appears to be some problematic symptoms because of the, uh, medical problem, which needs attending to, uh, quickly… Entourage! On me!"

Not all of the audience were staring at Fey with various expressions of distaste. Female expressions that had been shocked at first had slowly softened, and they were now looking on in curiosity, their eyes playing over Fey's body with interest. The front row most of all as the scent of Fey's seed washed over them, causing a warmth to rise to their cheeks.

But that did not put a dent in the generally hostile atmosphere. Fey was very happy to follow Amalia out as a rush of black clothed maids appeared and hurried her away. Amalia gestured her dismissal of the nobles as they stepped out of the hall.

Marcus's hateful gaze watched them go.

Fey shuddered as they left the grand audience hall, thankful to be away from so many angry stares. The entourage of a dozen maids rushed her through great ornate hallways filled with paintings and statues of well dressed cowkin nobility until she was ushered into what appeared to be an extensive suite fit for a Royal, with plush rugs and heavy puffy furniture.

"My suite while my palace is being restored. My sister was kind enough to put us up."

Fey glanced behind to find Amalia entering, closing the door behind her with a sigh. She tugged at her damp blouse and began unbuttoning it, maids circling to attend and help her.

An ungodly amount of mouthwatering boobage began to spill free.

Fey made a small whimper, causing the Queen to pause.

"I didn't realise you were on that much of a hair trigger Fey. Did you miss me that much?" she gave Fey a small flirty smile.

"I'm in heat," Fey managed to choke out.

"Oh?... Wait, hold on, with you, that actually sounds genuinely goddam alarming, and with how much larger you've become…" She bit her lip as she glanced over Fey's body.

"You're right it's not freaking good! I can barely freaking, hnff, control myself!"

A long hosing spray of precum spattered from her cock tips, noisily spraying down a couch and part way up a wall.

"I can see how that is an issue," mused Amalia as maids moved to begin cleaning up the mess. "I can also see how this might not have a simple solution, given your sheer ridiculous productivity, a productivity that has likely much increased since we last met. You will have to tell me the story of how you acquired a second cock by the way, believe me I am deeply curious about that."

"My productivity has definitely increased a bit," groaned Fey, screwing her eyes shut and forming fists with her hands. Her balls growled loudly, almost painfully taut behind her back legs.

"Fortunately, I have a solution," said Amalia as the last of her blouse was peeled away from her breasts and taken away by the maids. She wore a trio of three black lacy bras beneath, which were clearly very expensive and highly enchanted to support the weight of her triple chest. "But first, I think we should get you cleaned off. You smell utterly wonderful, but being covered in, ah, your own seed is hardly becoming of a Royal guest."

Fey found herself being hurried along by a wave of maids once more, who took her deeper into the very extensive Royal suite until they came out in a huge open area: the baths. A grand swimming pool dominated the tiled space, currently empty, with the drainage grate left open at one end. It was surrounded by smaller circular pools, also empty, but they didn't approach, instead coming to the open air showers nearby. A moment later, water was showering down on her from great bronze shower heads cast in the likeness of bulls.

The maids began scrubbing and wiping away the seed she was drenched in.

It felt really freaking good to be cleaned and tended to, but so much female attention came with its own problems. Every few seconds, another spurt of precum was sent shooting across the baths, more so when scrubbing hands and sponges reached beyond her barrel. The cleaning moved onto more sensitive areas, with hands rubbing and massaging her vast balls and soon after, moving to touch and feel at her shafts.

The touch made Fey go cross-eyed. What had been bare minutes without sex felt like an eternity of tension filled torment in this heat. Her balls were roaring in her ears, demanding to unload, and her cocks slap-slapping over and over, drumming against her chest, demanding to be sheathed in a juicy pussy.

Dozens of hands stroked her shafts now, squeezing and rubbing, feeling her shapes, medial ring, veins, tip. It was a very thorough cleaning that Fey could no longer resist in her heated state.

"AAAHHNN!!"

With a cry she felt her balls hike up and warmth roar up her shaft. A moment later, barrels worth of centaur spunt was spraying down on the tiles in front of her, shooting across the entire length of the swimming pool and spraying up the tiled wall and ceiling before raining back down.

"Ooh--OAAH!!!"

She cried as the maids giggled and gasped happily below, licking and stroking her dicks as hundreds of gallons of semen exploded from the dual tips.

Several dozen long pulses later, and the pool was filled to the brim and overflowing, despite the seed constantly draining away into the pool's open grate. It just didn't stop! It was only when all the other pools were filled and overflowing that things began to slow, the combined drainage of all the pools just enough to contain her.

Like that, the maids finished cleaning her and busily wrapped her in fluffy towels from top to bottom, snow-white towels wrapped around her legs, barrel, upper body, and even her freshly shampooed hair. She considered it going a bit far, however, when the maids carefully wrapped her balls and dicks in their own separate towels.

She peered down at the army of maids looking after her as she was hurried back through the suite, face partially hidden by her full-body towel armour.

One word, and she would breed all of them. That's all it would take. Her cocks throbbed furiously in their towelly sheath, already passing beyond their limit without release.

"Not in here, Fey, thank you. You almost destroyed the baths with that one load of yours. I hate to imagine what you would do to one of my maids without any kind of device to contain you," mused Queen Amalia, draped across her bedroom bed.

"Contain me?" muttered Fey from her fluffy towel fort.

"Yes, you aren't the only one who has productivity issues. We are a nation of milk producers after all."

She rolled from the bed and began fiddling with some kind of large metal device in the corner of the room, like an enormous metal treasure chest the size of a table.

Fey licked her lips, her eyes magnetised to the sight of the Queen bent over the chest, her expansive and incredibly erotic rear like sugary candy to Fey's eyes. It took a heroic amount of will on Fey's part not to mount and breed her then and there.

"Wh-what did you mean by adventures earlier?" she managed to get out, trying to shift her thoughts away from the heart shaped rear of the Queen.

"Oh, I lied about what happened after Alexandra turned part of my palace into molten slag. I, of course, fled the nation to escape the dragonesses' wrath, but what happened after is something I would rather keep to myself. A Queen being turned into a common milker is hardly going to garner the respect of the nobility, so it became pragmatic to create a few white lies, so to speak."

"You made yourself appear, uhm, better?"

"It helped that you left me with these," she said, gesturing vaguely at her breasts. "If there's anything we cowkins value highly, it's large mammaries, and more importantly, higher quality milk. Few are brave enough to ask questions when I outperform them in every regard. It gives a certain special political power in cowkin society. Unfortunately I was hardly alone in what happened and a few drunken words here and there accidently let slip from the others you freed and scandalous rumours have started to spread. As to be expected, the dildo of consequences rarely arrives lubed… Ah, here we go."

She turned back from the grand chest with half a dozen glass vials in her hands. At least, that's what Fey first thought as she peered down at them. She realised that they were more like milking nozzles, complete with transparent rubber tubing leading from their ends that disappeared back into the grand chest, which Fey now understood was actually an enormous milking machine.

The odd thing was, the nozzles had no opening, instead being glass capsules.

The queen shuddered a little, and to Fey's surprise, milk appeared in the capsules before shooting back along the tubes and into the chest.

"Since I no longer have access to the dragon silk, I thought it best to find a convenient alternative. In the past, Royals might have used the dragon silk to entirely hide their chest, but since that is no longer possible, we have to settle for levitating cloth and for regular milking, or in this case, stealth milking."

Fey looked nonplussed at the capsules.

"That's... Your milk?"

"Quite. I was milking myself throughout the entire time my nobility were in the audience, and so were a few others in attendance. Being able to release the pressure at any moment is quite freeing, I must say. These nozzles are so magically advanced that they don't even need to be physically attached, they simply teleport the milk into the glass chamber of the nozzle."

Fey suddenly felt a bit less awkward about that embarrassing moment in the hall, and also mildly more aroused. The cowkins could stealth milk themselves? She considered that for a moment.

"Wait, are you suggesting using that thing on me!?"

"Why yes, if you can be 'milked' as any cowkin, then it would solve your heat problem as you could ejaculate without creating a mess at any time. The enchantment is extraordinarily complex and unique but, in practice, simple. I simply touch the tip against your cock and it will replace my, ahem, nipples with your, ahem, lengths…"

Amalia touched one capsule up against Fey's upper cock tip and one against the lower.

The touch was enough to set Fey off, of course, and with a shudder, her cocks lurched, enthusiastically spraying precum.

... Or at least they would have. Instead, nothing happened; no precum sprayed from the tips of her cocks. She blinked and glanced down in time to see the two capsules suddenly fill with a cloudy clear liquid before it was sucked down the clear rubber tubes.

"There. Perfect," said Amalia.

"That's my… wow," said Fey, a little awed. The potential of such a device was immense; she could ejaculate freely in public now!

"But where does it all go?"

"Hmm, well it's not like I have a convenient silo specifically for centaur sperm, so for now, it will simply be put where we put our collective milk. This milking machine is connected to this palace's general milking network and will be sent to the underground caverns… Fortunately, we just had a major exporter pass through, so there is very little milk in there left to spoil, it is effectively a centaur sperm silo for now."

"Well, I don't want to spoil— wait, what do you mean collective? The palace shares it all as one? That's uh…"

Amalia picked at her bra distractingly, boob flesh muffin topping over the black lace.

"Hmm, some history for you then. This little nation, just a valley really, came into existence because of others trying to take advantage of our kind, of cowkins, of the valuable 'product' we produce. In this current era, that would be the milk guilds, a very powerful collective. You won't hear about it, but they even have their own private army, an army that they like to use to blockade our little nation now and then, making it very difficult for us to sell; sometimes, we have no one to sell to at all for months or even years." She sighed. "Once we realised what we had, we sometimes resorted to using the dragonsilk, which was how word eventually got out, and things went oh so wrong. But to the point, prior to that, our ancestors dug great storage caverns underground with immense preservation enchantments to keep things perfectly fresh. Perfect for long-term storage of vast amounts of milk, and I suppose perfect as temporary storage for you." She paused. "Although I suppose we should test if the pipes can handle your, uh, productivity."

She glanced around at the two dozen maids who were doing their best to appear stoic, but were clearly highly agitated, constantly snatching glances of Fey.

"Tend to Fey's needs," said the Queen.

It was like some kind of starting signal had gone off as, with a cry of delight, all two dozen maids threw themselves at Fey. Her towels were ripped free in record time as the maids fought to get at the body below. Faces and lips and tongues and hands crashed against balls and penis as the maids went into a frenzy, those around the tips of her dicks hopping on one foot as they tore their panties off and tossed them aside.

A quick scuffle ensued until two of the cowkin maids were victorious, grabbing hold of the two massive cocks and angling them down as they turned and bent over, thrusting their rears against the tips.

Fey sighed with bone-deep relief as ripe pussy enveloped her cocks once more.

She didn't have to wait long to get more than just penetration however, as the other maids realised that the sooner Fey got off, the sooner they could have their turn. The two maids on her tips were lifted up on the other maids' shoulders and heaved, thrusting them down her shafts.

The feeling of sex after a painful eternity without out left Fey on a hair trigger, and it was only a half dozen thrusts before her balls were lurching up from the maids' tongues and fingers, and an enormous load was blasting into the maid's bellies.

To Amalia's alarm, the bellies of the maids ballooned outward, and the nozzles in her hands flashed with light as their enchantments were strained to the limit, only able to capture a portion of the amount of seed being expelled.

"Too much! Too much!" she cried as the two maids below wailed and swelled.

"I can't stop!!" keened Fey as her balls roiled and pumped bathtubs worth of seed.

A panicked Queen, concerned her bedroom was about to be obliterated, grabbed for the other four milking nozzles and without preamble slammed them against Fey's belly-sheathed cocks.

Thankfully, the connection was made, and the next surge of seed was tiny compared to the previous one. Instead, all six of the nozzles groaned under the strain, lighting up with intense light as the enchantments strained to contain Fey's load, the glass expanding like the best of enchanted milking nozzle to account for size. Each capsule became as large as a thigh and Amalia was forced to lay them on her bed due to the weight.

Cum roared into the six rubber tubes from the six glass capsules, tripling then quadrupling and more their forearm-thick rubber diameter and turning the inside a clean white.The pipes thrashed violently as pressurised horse semen streamed down them and into the chest out of sight.

The only reason the nozzles could cope with the sheer output was due to the royal level quality of enchantment built into them. As it was, they still struggled, and so to a lesser extent, the network they were plugged into.

Queen Amalia turned with alarm as a groaning rumbling sound came from all around. Dust fell from the ceiling as cracks spider webbed across the walls, the countless rubber pipes within them swelling in size under Fey's load, doubling and tripling in girth, and more, the very ground beneath her feet trembling.

Still, it held, the mind-boggling load splitting up into many other rubber pipes and lessening the strain on the network as a whole as Fey's ejaculation disappeared into the depths of the palace.

Amalia let out a sigh of relief as the last of Fey's surging ejaculation left the maids on her dicks with bellies many times the size of a normal pregnancy, but still, nothing architecture-threatening.

"Feeling better?"

"N-N-no, I need moaaar!" groaned Fey, her balls growling threateningly.

Amalia pursed her lips. Well, her entourage was quite large; surely Fey couldn't go through all of them…

Some time later, Amalia looked around wide eyed with her mouth hanging open at the two dozen maids scattered and piled across her bedroom, lying limp across each other or piled upon her bed, their pussies gaped wide open and thighs spread as goopy semen rolled from them. Fey had gone through her entourage like a freaking wildfire, and she still wasn't satisfied!

"More…!" moaned Fey softly as she pulled foot after foot of dick from a pair of girls.

"How can you possibly want more?!"

Really, this heat was a lot more problematic than Amalia had first realised.

But all things had to have a limit; it just meant that more than her entourage would be required to satisfy this centaur. Fortunately, there would certainly be more than enough volunteers amongst the palace's maids once word spread.

She waved her hand at one of the maids who was slumped in an orgasmic stupor, a maid with an especially large chest fitting for her position as head of the Royal entourage.

"Daisy, could you see about getting more volunteers for our guest's needs?"

Daisy shakily nodded as she rose, seed pouring from between her thighs, her bloated belly held in both hands, knees wobbly.

"Y-Yes, my queen. I'm sure we'll have volunteers practically throwing themselves onto the, ah, centaur once they understand what is at stake."

She was correct, of course, as word quickly spread among the maids about the best sex of ten lifetimes. Fey had no shortage of pussy to dump ungodly amounts of breeding batter into.

...Not that it seemed to be putting a damper on Fey's heat, and an exasperated queen realised after the 20th cum-filled maid was sent into rapture that Fey's heat was going absolutely nowhere, and they were merely keeping it from growing more powerful.

"This is a genuine problem as I desire to visit some of the nobility. No matter." She snapped her fingers. "Daisy, fetch the tailors."

Fey watched with alarm as a dozen maids appeared, carrying rolls and reams of fabric and a variety of sewing boxes.

Even as maids thrust each other onto her shafts, the tailor maids held up fabrics against her flanks and legs, even against her upper body.

"Uh-uhm, centaurs don't normally wear, uhm, lower, uh, clothing... it's not natural..."

"Neither is your frankly absurd heat, Fey, so you can put up with it for now, unless you wish the supply of fresh maids to stop?"

"No! No! I'll wear the dress!"

Amalia nodded, and with Daisy directing the tailors, clothing started to take form around Fey even as spent maids continued to pile up across the room, crawling from beneath the reams of fabric to flop down onto the other cum-filled and unimaginably satisfied girls.

Fey could only watch as her lower body disappeared.

At first, they tried to make the "skirt" ring her barrel around her stomach and back, but pretty quickly gave up on that idea as it exposed her plump balls which entirely defeated the purpose of the exercise which was to make her presentable. Instead, the "skirt" ringed her fully, going around her front legs and horse chest, fully along her back, and then ringing her tail and rear.

A hole had been made for her tail, which was artfully braided and ribboned with white silks. The skirt became petticoats masterfully cut to shape and drape over her enormous balls and down to her hooves.

The entire thing left her with the hem of a great white skirt flitting around all four of her ankles, even as the lines of the dress swooped from her horse body to her upper body, clinging to her midriff, and then forming two enormous cupping shapes that cupped her vast breasts in a very pleasant and comfortable way.

It was a strange feeling to be so fully clothed. Her upper body liked it, but her horse body rebelled, an itchy feeling running up and down her back along with a sense of general discomfort. She had to fight down the urge to rip the fabric off and expose herself to the world, as was only right for one as physically dominant as she, as things were meant to be.

But that would mean no fresh maids for her to bury her dicks in, so she put up with the cloying trapping clothing, barely.

Once made presentable, with the white dress expertly fitted, her hair styled, and even a gem scattered necklace resting over her collarbones, Fey was led from the queen's chamber. In her wake, cum-bloated girls covered the floor and every piece of furniture, piled up in great mounds, great round domes rising up into the air as soft little moans and feminine sighs made pleasant background noise.

"Much better," said Amalia as she strolled along the grand hallway with Fey at her side.

Fey nodded awkwardly and let out a little gasp as the servants under her dress pulled free yet another maid from her upper prick. The maid lifted the dress and waddled away, both arms supporting her cum belly as she shuffled off with a dreamy expression.

Fey wasn't sure how sustainable this really was. Yes, it was preventing the bonfire of her heat from truly exploding, but maids were a limited resource.

Still, she did trust Amalia, and so she walked with her even as maids busily milked her cocks.

The palace was vast, a wonder, which made Fey wonder just how big the nation's Royal palace was if this was just the backup one. Breast milk was apparently a very lucrative earner for the cowkin nation, which also helped explain why the cowkins had been exploited over the centuries.

"Uhm, is something happening that we need to leave your rooms?"

"Well, as you may have realised, my rule isn't exactly on the steadiest of grounds right now. Much of the nobility thought I had died, and many were making moves to put one of their own on the throne. In addition, as you may have noticed, I'm not exactly the typical soft handed Queenly sort, gentleness bores me. Many would see me gone just for ideological reasons."

Fey glanced over at Amalia. It was true that she wasn't exactly the dainty type. She wielded an enormous axe in war and looked the sort to drag male damsels in distress to her bed after feasting and drinking barrels of beer, a sort of barbarian queen. Which was a far cry from the refined nobility Fey had seen assembled, the sort of nobility who hadn't worked or fought a day in their lives and spent most of their days at tea parties and social functions.

"If there's anything I can do to help, I'll do it. It's the least I can do for helping with this, uh, heat and stuff..."

Amalia smiled pleasantly. "I knew you would. Don't worry, all I need is a little help persuading a few members of the nobility to take my side when things come to a crisis point. I can't say I'm the best at doing all these sneaky backroom political deals, but that's where you come in, Fey." Her smile widened. "A few life-changing experiences here and there, and who knows where the milk will fall, so to speak."

The promise of more breeding stirred Fey's heat, and her cocks throbbed inside the current maids. She hurried after the striding queen.

Some time later, Fey found herself in another wing of the sprawling palace, just as ornate as the Queen's. The entire time a line of maids slipped in and out from beneath her dress, where half a dozen more maids worked to pump each other onto dick before stumbling free with a smile on their face, their eyes dilated as they staggered away in a cum-drunk stupor.

Queen Amalia came to a stop by a set of great golden double doors, and a pair of maids in pink and black uniforms opened the way for her. Fey trotted in after, looking around with curiosity at this new, incredibly luxurious suite. Was that a gold statue? That mosaic of a cowkin was so well done!

They were led through the extensive complex until they popped out into what appeared to be a dining room, where someone was waiting for them.

"Amalia, my Queen," smiled the cowkin, dressed in an eye-searing pink dress, a match to her pink hair, bright pink lipstick, and a contrast to her sparkling emerald green eyes. Fey vaguely recognised the pink from the Queen's audience chamber. "It is everything to me that you would visit, I am certain any of the nobility would just leap at the chance to dine with you in such, ah, privacy." She glanced uncertainly at Fey, clearly confused about why the Queen had this strange teleporting centaur with her.

"Beatrice, by far my favourite Duchess, I'm sure, and just a joy to keep company with," Fey wasn't sure if Amalia was being totally sincere. "Allow me to introduce you to Fey, a guest of mine, a centaur I met on my travels, and a wonderfully kind hearted person. I am certain you shall get on very enthusiastically soon enough."

If breast size was an indicator of political power, then this new cowkin certainly had a lot of it. The double-cushioned bra had to do a lot of work to keep a chest size that gave any set of Amalia's a run for their money. She was also very attractive, cute even, which elicited a particularly powerful ejaculation in the maid Fey was currently inside of. Fey licked her lips in anticipation.

But before Fey could say anything, Daisy was clapping her hands together and snapping at the maids. What Fey at first thought was a strange bench was carried out and set by the table, directly next to the pink-dressed cowkin.

It took Fey a moment to realise she was looking at a particularly ornate centaur chaise, a seat designed to support a centaur's great weight. She had seen such a thing less than a dozen times since leaving her home plains and was shocked to find one here of all places.

"Surprised? One of our greatest allies in getting around the milk guilds' blockades has been the various centaur tribes. A long friendship, and one that has been mutually beneficial over the centuries. This is far from the only piece of centaur convenience I possess," mused Amalia.

Fey approached uncertainly.

The chaise was unusually large, even for a piece of furniture designed for a centaur, and accounted for a large space beneath it.

Would it…?

With a few dextrous motions, she hiked up the front of her skirt and stepped over it, lowering herself down a bit until her barrel was resting on the cushioned surface.

It almost seemed designed with her in mind as the base was shaped and open, allowing both her cocks to hang freely beneath the cushioned bench.

She let out a murmur of appreciation as she got comfortable, her body weight neatly cupped even as the maids below continued to have full access to her pricks.

"I think I need to get one of these things, wow," breathed Fey, impressed.

Queen Amalia sipped from her tea. She had found her own seat across the table and was drinking daintily as she watched Fey settle herself directly next to the Duchess.

The Duchess likewise sipped from her tea, looking Fey over out of the corner of her eye.

Fey rocked herself side to side to get comfy. Not that it was uncomfortable; in fact, it was very comfortable. The padded silks supported her bulk perfectly.

Any discomfort was entirely due to the fact that she was being treated to a high-end tea party while a pair of maids thrust themselves onto her dicks! Really, tea parties were supposed to be sophisticated and demure. She certainly didn't feel very sophisticated or demure as the pair of slutty maids heaved themselves back and forth beneath the summery centaur dress. The sounds their pussies made as they were stretched and strained around an ungodly amount of horse dick were enough to put anyone off their cake and tea!

Except Queen Amalia behaved as if it were just a natural background noise that was completely normal for tea parties, and Beatrice, apparently unsure what to make of it, followed after her Queen. So the tea party continued, ignoring the sloppy wet sounds as if they weren't even there.

Fey shakily reached down and lifted her extra-large teacup, doing her best not to spill any as the maids reamed themselves on her twin lengths beneath the Chaise. It took a surprising amount of focus to keep steady. It would not be good if she spilled any tea on her new dress.

"Ahem, I assume your guest is feeling… better? My queen?" said Beatrice.

"Oh, I don't doubt she is. She is a very needy centaur," replied Queen Amalia.

Fey paused in the middle of shakily lifting the teacup to her lips.

"Uhm, I'm sorry for the fuss. I just didn't expect to arrive so, erm, well...."

"Horny?" said Amalia, causing the Duchess to choke on her cream covered scone.

Fey blushed. She was horny, but this felt like the most awkward setting imaginable to admit that, stuck between a freaking Queen and a Duchess.

"J-Just over-excited. All the excitement gets the, uh, blood going… places, ahem."

Fey sipped her tea as the sound of a moaning maid squirting and spraying down the marble floor came from below, wet spattering and splashing.

She tried her best to ignore it.

"I see," said Beatrice, shifting her hips on her chair and glancing to her side. The front of Fey's dress didn't completely hide what was behind, and the white fabric was draped over the shape of her upper cock, which itself was sheathed in a maid and positioned very close to her.

"I suppose I have some understanding of… heat problems," she mumbled quietly.

"Oh yes," said Amalia. "I heard you were struggling with a particularly intense summer heat."

"Uh, y-you did? Where did you hear that?"

"Gossip gets around the maids like you wouldn't believe, not that any noble would listen to those so far below their station." Amalia tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Something I learned on my trip... it's always good to listen, yes? I also hear from the maids that your husband has been unable to help you. How very Troublesome."

If it was possible for Beatrice's cheeks to become any redder, Fey couldn't imagine it. The poor lady looked ready to disappear into her pink dress with embarrassment. This was not the kind of conversation she expected to be having with her Queen of all people. However, she still kept snatching glances at the front of Fey's dress and the broad cock tip outlined beneath.

"It has been unusually difficult, yes," said Beatrice, swallowing wetly.

Amalia sipped her tea. "I see. And I suppose you would be extraordinarily grateful to anyone who could help you with that issue, grateful enough that you would take their side in any silly little squabbles."

BBLOORRCHH!

The muffled sound of a squealing maid being filled with ungodly amounts of cum came from beneath Fey's summer dress, and Beatrice licked her lip nervously.

She lowered her voice. "But Queen Amalia, I am married!"

"And does Duke Marcus care that you are suffering? Has he spoken even one word about it, or put in the effort you so badly need?"

"I- I don't know..."

"You would be far from the first noble to take a consort. Why, I heard only this morning that Lady Dala, Gertrude, and Marigold were seen by the maids slipping out of the seedier part of Town appearing quite sweaty and dishevelled, and that's a slow day, on some there have been reports of dozens of lords and ladies making their way back to the palace."

Beatrice's mouth fell open at the scandalous claim. "No, there's no way…!"

Queen Amalia gave her a firm look. "Simply imagine Fey here as a tool or a toy to solve your current dilemma, as is only befitting of a noble, we accept only the highest class solutions. Thus, this solution: a centaur-shaped dildo that just happens to be alive."

Beatrice glanced up at Fey shyly. "A rather large dildo," she muttered breathily.

But her body language spoke only of her desire, her hand pressing her pink petticoat up between her thighs as she practically panted, cheeks rosy, thighs clenching and unclenching as beads of sweat appeared on her blemish-free skin.

Even if Beatrice hadn't quite yet decided, her body clearly had. Sitting so close to Fey would be enough to make most girls increasingly thirsty. While Fey was being noisily serviced by a line of maids? It was enough to drive any girl a little wild.

Even as Beatrice watched, another maid crawled on her hands and knees from beneath the centaur dress, her belly so swollen with horse cum that it had burst open her blouse and was dragging across the ground. With difficulty, the maid rose to her feet, hands clutching at the round dome of her cum pregnancy, trying her best to lift the weighty mass of breeding batter plugging her womb. She bit her lip as she snatched a glance up at Fey, giving her a look of naked appreciation and deep attraction before taking a shaky step and staggering off.

Fey and Beatrice watched her go, a thick, oozing column of white slowly pouring from beneath her hiked-up dress as she waddled away, leaving little puddles of Fey in her wake.

"Have you ever seen anyone so utterly satisfied?"

"B-but, the size of her, I don't understand!" fretted Beatrice. But even she sounded like she didn't believe her own protests anymore. The maid had taken Fey's enormity, so surely a noble could too. She was rapidly running out of excuses to put off her own body's insistent demands.

Fey let out a soft, needy groan. Even being outside of a pussy for just this long was painful when in heat, and the front of her dress suddenly flipped forward as a spurt of precum escaped.

The white fabric stained dark in an instant, and fluid spattered up the pink of Beatrice's dress.

She looked down at the wet on her clothing and spattered up her bare arm. Her nostrils flared as the heady scent hit, taking a great lungful of precummy air in.

"Oh, my..." she breathed, her lip trembling as a little shiver ran through her.

"Of course, we do have many things to be getting on with, and I couldn't possibly take up any more of your time, my dear Duchess. Come Fey, let me finish giving you a tour of the palace."

Amalia made to rise from her chair to Beatrice's great dismay.

"No! Wait!" she cried. "J-just stay for a moment, just a little longer, a-and maybe I'll come to your aid… if you need it."

"Aid?"

"Okay, okay, I'll back you! I'll definitely back your continued claim. Just stay, so we can do...stuff."

Amalia tapped her chin in thought as Beatrice squirmed in her chair, fingers practically clawing at her petticoats as she fought back the carnal desire to climb Fey like a tree.

"I..."

"Yes?!"

"I suppose we could stay a few minutes longer, but I suggest you are quick in doing this 'stuff' as I won't wait long, and you will do this 'stuff' here, in front of me."

Beatrice gave her a slightly horrified look. To do the 'stuff' right then and there in front of the Queen?? The mere thought was a devastating scandal.

But Fey was right there, and oh so very large and oh so very enticing.

With a whimper, she rose to her feet, her chair squeaking across the marble as it was pushed back.

Without preamble, she leaned forward and threw her arms across the table and to the side. With a deafening crash, half the ceramic was swept off, tea and scones and cream buns rolling across the floor.

With space made, she thrust herself over top, scrabbling at her pink petticoats with white-gloved hands and thrusting them up and over her hips as she presented her bare pantiless rear, floods of her arousal making her inner thighs glistening slick.

"P-Pleeeease! I neeeed this- hnyaaa!!!- You don't know!"

Fey blinked down at the Duchess, bent over her dining room table in the most unladylike fashion. In that moment, she was not a sophisticated high-born noble but a girl eager to be bred by the biggest alpha she had come across in her life, nothing but carnal desire and primal arousal, something which Fey could very well understand considering her own heat.

The Duchess had a very nice rear and an even more pleasing pair of meaty pussy lips. The puffy, reddened things peeking between her thick thighs.

It was a dangerous sight for a centaur in the throes of a powerful heat, and before Fey even realised it, her body was moving, rising from the chaise in one smooth motion.

The queen clearly had an agenda with this so-called palace tour, yes keeping Fey's intense heat in check, but also to gather to her side potential allies.

Not that Fey had any interest in interfering. Far too horny. If she was going to be offered fresh puss to breed, she wouldn't say no, whether that was maid or noble, either could help to satisfy her ravenous hunger.

She reached down and clasped the front of the skirt that encircled her horse body, gingerly lifting it up. The petticoats pulled up over her cocks, the fabric sticky with precum until she hiked the front of her dress up fully, pressing it against her midriff and exposing her horse parts.

A waft of steamy air washed from beneath, the smell of sex having built up in the enclosed space, becoming more and more concentrated. The intense smell of two enormous horse dicks combined with the compounded pussy mist of dozens of maids.

The waft rolled over the table, hitting Beatrice's nose like a sledgehammer.

"Oh GAWWDDD!" she squealed as she went cross-eyed. A long powerful jet of squirt sprayed from between her quivering thighs as she slumped over the table, her legs going weak and limp.

She wasn't the only one affected, and the sound of Amalia choking on her tea came from across the table. Her eye twitched as she gripped the table edge with a white-knuckle grip, desperately trying to maintain her composure.

"That is… quite an impressive scent," she managed to groan out.

"Ravage me! Breed meeeee!" squealed Beatrice, her hands slapping frantically at the table as she kicked her legs in the air.

Fey herself wasn't immune to the arousing scent, the smell of so much concentrated pussy making her eyes dilate. With a growl, she reared up, slamming her front hooves down on the table. Her two log-like dicks slapped down on the Duchess's back with a meaty thump, eliciting an unladylike grunt.

"Hnff, y-yes! Put one of those things inside of me, I demand you fucking fuck me! Do as your Duchess commands! p-please!"

Fey ignored her wailing and focused on the difficult task of finding just where she needed to go. It was fortunate that she was so practised that she could guide herself fairly well, but all the same, it required a few awkward moments of shuffling back and forth until her cocks dropped down behind the Duchess's rear, where they were (hopefully) aligned.

She could feel the soft bottom of the Duchess quivering against the tip of her upper dick, even as her broad thighs trembled against the lower. The hard flesh of her penises was rough against her perfect noble skin.

The contrast wasn't lost on the Duchess, who suddenly felt like a very small girl beneath a massive stallion. Like the naive daughter of a noble family who had snuck out of the manse to be with a rough and brutish stable hand, only so so much more. There was something so fiercely primal about Fey, a sexual rawness that spoke to her on a deeper feminine level, a promise of something her body had been missing, true intercourse, the real thing.

She shivered, feeling the giant cock tips pressing at her, the flesh hard and ungiving.

A little spray of precum splashed over her swollen pussy, and she gasped aloud.

"Inside! Get inside of me!"

She needed this like she needed to breathe!

Fey acquiesced with a low growl, her back hooves pressing down against the marble as she slowly pushed her back hips forward, pressing her lengths up against Beatrice's rear.

It was a struggle to remain composed, but rushing could very easily cause Fey to slip over the top of Beatrice's rear. Her instincts told her that she needed a little patience before she could make permanent gaping ruin of this noble's pussy.

It was excruciating, but Fey managed to hold back her urge to wildly thrust and instead eased her weight forward. Her upper cock tip pressed at what she thought was the right spot.

Slowly, Beatrice's folds began to part, slipping wider and wider, spreading outward to take a primal amount of dick.

For a moment, things seemed to be going smoothly. The Duchess keened below Fey as her body was reshaped to take such colossal girth.

But then, as Fey pushed inward her hoof met with a puddle of seed that a maid had left in her wake. She slipped with a cry and fell forward.

Both cocks shifted position with a jerk before slamming inward, Fey's entire weight behind them.

Her hands slammed down on the tabletop to catch her balance, but it was already too late. She could feel Beatrice's insides.

Except not once, but twice.

She was inside of the Duchess twice. One of her lengths was just inside her vagina, and the other was just inside of her ass.

The delayed reaction was due to shock on both of their parts. But when it hit, the amount of sound coming from below Fey nearly caused her to put her hands over her ears.

Amalia did actually put her fingers in her ears with a wince as Beatrice howled and howled. A wash of the Duchess's juices rolled across the tabletop as she squirted harder and longer than at any point in her entire life. Pussy juice dripped down from the table into Amalia's lap.

Not that the queen seemed to mind. Despite the sound and the wet, her eyes were locked onto the Duchess. She watched with intense interest as the Duchess took not one but both of Fey's cocks. Her stomach bulged out from her midriff and lifted her hips as she was stretched obscenely around Fey.

It was a deeply arousing sight for someone who had already experienced Fey. To think that there was so much more to experience! This made her previous time with Fey look positively mild!

A hand descended between her thighs as she watched.

Fey didn't give time for Beatrice to recover. Instead, she jerked her hips back in the middle of her thrashing orgasms before thrusting forward.

Beatrice's midriff lurched forward, her pink dress straining taut around her bulging belly. Cleavage parted as soft flesh rose from within her creaking dress, lifting her away from the table as dual 4-foot-11-inch cocks turned her into a living condom. The double stack of dick obscenely outlined in her distended tummy.

She clutched at her bulging belly with gloved hands and squealed in ecstasy. Her eyes unable to look away from the sight of her own body being turned into a fuck toy, a dick sleeve, a rather different situation than the Queen had described, not that she minded.

"Treat her well, Fey. I very much want her to want to be on my side," breathed Amalia.

Although Fey believed there was no danger of the Duchess betraying Amalia, she thought that breeding her as thoroughly as possible couldn't hurt. Besides, she needed everything available to her to keep a lid on her raging heat.

With a long groan, Fey sawed her hips back, and her dual cocks shlorked from the Duchess's sopping folds along with a sloppy gush of her juices. Similarly, she pulled from her asshole. She could feel her cocks pressing together inside the Duchess, the two hard lengths squeezed together so tightly inside of her, and in turn squeezing and scraping the Duchess's sensitive insides, the nerves between the lengths being stimulated from both sides.

Fey ignored the Duchess's flailing legs, her ankles kicking up against her barrel as she howled, and focused on ruthlessly breeding the female below her.

Her hips slammed forward, sheathing foot after foot of horse dick into Beatrice's orifices until her horse thighs violently slammed up against the table edge with a bang and thrust the thing six inches forward to Amalia's yelp of alarm.

The tip of Beatrice's double belly bulge thrust across the table, knocking her breasts apart as her pink dress groaned and creaked under the strain as it wrapped not just around Beatrice, but her reshaped belly too.

The tip struck a teapot and launched it off the table where it crashed to the ground, instantly shattering into a million pieces.

But Fey was already sawing backwards, stallion legs straining as she hauled her oversized cocks free from straining pussy and ass.

Beatrice came, a lot, and a ruler straight line of cloudy squirt jetted from between her thighs, hitting the marble below so hard that it formed particulate droplets that misted the air around Fey's hooves, only interrupted as Fey quick-stepped forward, slamming her lengths between the Duchess's thighs with all the vigour of a she-stallion in heat. She hit the table with another bang! The table legs screeched across the marble as the thing jerked forward once more.

"AAAHHHHHHHH!!!"

Beatrice's legs went ramrod straight out, her toes splayed as she clawed at the tabletop, screaming so hard she sent ripples across her juices that puddled across the table's surface. She wasn't a Duchess at that moment, but a breeding slut, a girl giving her all to a true breeder, a girl greedy to slake her heat and to experience the best sex of her life.

She got more than what she asked for, many, many times over, barely able to hold onto sanity as wave after wave of crackling chain orgasms rolled up and down her body, her pussy a quivering clenching mess as her insides were stretched out around Fey.

"H-HAARDDDEERR!!! AAIIIEEE!!!" she managed to get out between catastrophic orgasms.

Queen Amalia nibbled on her cream-topped scone and watched mesmerised as Beatrice's belly lurched over and over across the wet tabletop. Her smooth skin outlined the blurred shape of Fey's dicks as she was thoroughly mated, each thrust causing the table to lurch across the room, something that Amalia had to periodically account for by pushing her chair back. Safe to say, it wasn't the most comfortable way to dine, but the view was truly incredible.

Things would have continued like that until the Duchess was ejaculated into and thoroughly impregnated. Except the Duchess had been making rather a lot of noise, and that noise had attracted notice as it echoed through the palace. Notice that had gone to inform someone of importance.

"Beatrice? Beatrice!!" came a deep masculine voice from some other part of the Duchess's suite.

Fey's thrusting stuttered, and she nearly fell as her hoof slipped.

"What- Who is that?!" she cried with alarm.

"Ah. It would appear that Duke Marcus has learned of our meeting."

"Wait, you mean, that's her husband?!" squeaked Fey, suddenly very alarmed. "That one?!"

She had seen the Duchess's husband of course, the angry one who had interrupted the Queen's audience. He was very large, very muscular, and he looked the sort to chop her into lots of tiny little pieces with the sword he kept at his side if he were to stumble upon them.

"This may be… a small problem…" mused Amalia as the door handle to the room rattled.

"Small problem? Amalia!"

"Okay, maybe a medium-sized problem."

Fey gave her a dismayed look. She'd just escaped from Seth. She really did not want to be chased around the palace with another sharp metal instrument.

Thinking quickly, she jerked backward from the table, taking the Duchess with her, who squealed as she was dragged along for the ride. Fey's hooves slammed back down on the marble and she thrust her hiked-up skirt down.

In an instant, the Duchess was hidden from view, bodily hanging from two monstrous dicks with her legs and arms dangling below, but completely out of sight, the petticoats of Fey's overly large dress hiding her away.

Just in time as the doors suddenly clicked and burst open, slamming off the walls as the Duke appeared framed in the doorway, accompanied by no less than four armoured guards.

Fey snatched a cup of tea from the table and brought it to her lips, doing her best to appear nonchalant, as though she were simply attending a tea party, and nothing untoward was happening.

"Queen Amalia…" growled the Duke, his narrowed eyes roving across the scene. His brow furrowed as he noticed the shattered ceramic across the floor, the puddled clear fluids, and the occasional thicker puddle of centaur cream. "I was not aware that you were in attendance in our suite. I should have been informed."

"Really, Marcus, I have no need to tell anyone where and when I go in my sister's palace. Not as your Queen or otherwise."

Marcus tilted his head as he heard that. "Perhaps that disrespectful attitude is why you may not remain Queen for long. The nobility can be quite fickle if they are not satisfied with the nation's leadership. You wouldn't be the first to be deposed, and I'm sure there are just plenty of applicants with a touch of royal blood available to take your place."

Judging by what Amalia had said earlier, Fey could well imagine that the 'applicant' Marcus put forward would be one he could control.

"Hmm, I have absolute, unequivocal faith in the loyalty of the nobility, my dear duke. There is no possible way that any noble could doubt me, and I—"

"Hnyaaa!!" came a long, lustful moan from beneath Fey's skirt.

"—am more certain than ever of that utmost loyalty."

Fey squeezed her eyes shut. The damned Duchess wasn't keeping quiet! In fact, she had taken hold of Fey's front horse legs and was busily trying to heave herself backward onto her dicks! Just how freaking horny was this Duchess!?

"...What was that sound?" said the duke with a frown.

"N-nothing!" said Fey, doing her best to keep a straight face even as the Duchess's insides rippled and squeezed up and down her lengths.

He refocused on the Queen, putting aside the distraction.

"...I think something did happen to you on your 'trip', Amalia," sneered Marcus. It wasn't lost on Fey that the duke had intentionally left out the queen's title. "Something happened out there that was unbecoming of a nation's leader."

"You can think as you like, but I won't have you spreading rumors. I would take care where you tread with that tongue of yours."

Marcus narrowed his eyes.

"It's hardly a rumour considering this bedraggled perverted peasant who turned up on our doorstep, something happened, and really, Amalia, you can put a boar in a dress, but it doesn't make it any less of a boar."

It took a moment for Fey to register that the loud cowkin male was talking about her.

"What the— Don't talk about me like that, I'm right here!!" she exclaimed as the Duchess eased herself back along her dicks with a slutty groan.

The duke glanced at her dress in confusion but then looked up at her with disdain.

"Watch your mouth when talking to your betters."

"But—!"

"I would have said pig instead of boar, but the thing about boars is that they have a habit of growing far past their limits in the wild and becoming oversized and overgrown. Fitting for the most overgrown centaur I've ever heard of. What, did your tribe disown you? Did they think you deformed? Perhaps they were right."

Fey frowned. All of a sudden, she was feeling a lot less bad about the duke's wife currently trying to drive herself onto centaur dick a few feet away from the duke. In fact, she hardly felt like holding back her heat at all anymore.

Her hips thrust forward, the dress rippling around her body as her lengths jerked, her body working on its own.

The Duchess, who was holding herself in place with Fey's front legs, was taken by surprise as a solid foot of doubled up horse penis sank into her, scraping by hyper-sensitive nerve clusters in the most stimulating way possible. The Duchess caught her breath and squealed.

"What was that? Who is under there?" scowled the duke, becoming annoyed with the sound.

"Just a maid seeing to Fey's medical malady. Perhaps Fey here accidentally trod on her toe. She is quite a large centaur, as you said," purred Amalia, clearly amused with the situation, even as Fey's hips jerked back and thrust once more, and again.

"Ooh gawwd!" wailed the Duchess as the loud spatter of a female squirting over the marble floor came from below the dress.

"Stepping on the maid's toe multiple times… and then spilling her drink…" mused Amalia as the duchess's juices seeped from beneath Fey's petticoats.

Fey herself let out a groan as the Duchess spasmed on her dick. Just the small amount of time that had passed since the last maid had left her balls fat and engorged, each orb ungiving and pressing against the back of her thighs. The need to unload into the Duchess was impossible to ignore, and Fey's hips accelerated, fucking the Duchess raw against her own front legs, the sound of a quelching and queefing overly full pussy rising in volume as she pounded her hips awkwardly while standing still, the dress flitting and dancing around her. She looked for all the world like she was dry humping the air.

By that point, the duke had started to twig that something strange was happening, even if he wasn't sure what.

"I've had enough of this farce," he spat. "I cannot touch you Amalia, but this one is trespassing, she is trespassing on our suite. Throw her in a cell if you can manage to stuff her overgrown bulk in the damned thing." He snapped his fingers at the guards.

"That's my guest," growled Amalia, but if the duke cared, he didn't show it, gesturing at a now rapidly humping Fey as increasingly loud sounds came from below.

Fey was barely capable of making sense of the situation, so lost to the feel of the Duchess, but she still looked down with alarm as the guards began moving their halberds toward her. Alarm not because of the sharp pointy things pointed in her direction but because she was rapidly coming to a peak, her back hips pistoning back and forth so fast they were a blur as the Duchess's voice became a rising wail. Fey's petticoat jerked around her hips in a frenzy as she bucked and thrust as her heat demanded, driving Beatrice into unimaginable ecstasy.

"BREED ME!!!!" squealed the Duchess as she desperately threw herself onto Fey's thrusts, pussy womb and ass squeezing vice tight around the dual lengths, milking Fey for all she was worth.

Fey's eyelids fluttered as she formed fists at her sides, desperately trying to hold back but completely unable to prevent the dam from bursting.

The guards took an uncertain unstep back as Fey moaned long and low.

"What are you doing? Arrest her!" bellowed Marcus.

The guards glanced hesitantly between the duke and the moaning centaur. Up close, Fey really was a very, VERY large centaur, and she towered over them as her back hips accelerated.

"Don't stop! I command you, cum in meeee!!!" wailed the Duchess as the sound of spraying fem fluid filled the air and the puddling spreading from beneath Fey's petticoats washed up against the guards' boots.

Fey's body was quite happy to agree to that order, and with one huge thrust, the dam burst. Her balls hiked up so hard that they flicked out her dress behind. Each ball the size of a prize pumpkin, they clenched down hard, the surfaces riddled with finger-thick veins as ungodly amounts of seed fought to reach the Duchess's fertile womb.

SSHHPLURRSHH!!!

Came the sound of the first barrel-sized load of seed, and with it a tearing sound as the Duchess's dress gave up its valiant fight, shredding apart around the Duchess's ballooning belly in an instant, a massive dome of cum far larger than any regular pregnancy.

"AAAIIIEEEEEE!!" screamed the Duchess.

"Oh my," purred the queen with half-lidded eyes, clearly enjoying herself.

"Oh no!" groaned Fey. She had gotten some idea of what the royal milking nozzles were capable of syphoning off, but what was coming was simply beyond them. The Duchess would grow massive with cum, her belly filled to capacity and then stretched beyond, and it simply would not stop, which was a small problem as being immobilised and trapped on the Duchess in the duke's suite sounded like a good way to end up with the duke's sword swinging her way.

She needed to leave. Now.

She suddenly lurched forward, even as the Duchess's belly reached the marble floor. The confused guards flinched back as the massive centaur dove past.

"Stop her!" shrieked the duke. The guards snapped out of their shock, drilled training taking over. They dashed around Fey, to block her path to the door.

It seemed like they had her, the tips of the really very sharp and dangerous-looking halberds hovering in front of her face.

She had no time for this! Fey was just about to reach out and rip the halberds from the guards' hands like taking away toys from a bunch of adolescents when a gurgling sound came from beneath her skirt, and then, a moment later, the front of her skirt was hit by something from behind, something that tossed it upwards as it escaped.

A solid white arc of centaur semen roared from between Fey's front legs, smashing into the lead guard's chest full-on. The thick goopy substance hit so hard that the guard was knocked to the ground even as the others panicked.

Cum continued to blast from beneath Fey's skirt in a powerful pressurised jet, knocking the guards off balance and then even more off balance as their armoured boots came down on the now cum covered marble.

In seconds, the four guards had gone from standing and ready to cut her down to flailing around on the floor, making an ear-shattering sound with their steel armour as they slipped and slid in centaur seed.

It took a moment for Fey to grasp what had happened. The Duchess had taken her in her ass, and the Duchess had been unable to contain the result of that. Cum had flooded her stomach to capacity and then sought an exit, it had escaped, a geyser of pressurised seed jetting from her mouth.

Fey didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She had weaponized the Duchess and turned her into a guard-destroying siege weapon. She angled her front and sprayed down the slippery flailing guards one more time for good measure. It was time to escape.

She dashed past, blasting seed from between her front legs all over the room and up the walls, but only for a moment, as the Duchess finally managed to close her mouth, cutting off the stream. Unfortunately, that meant the Duchess was now expanding even faster with seed despite the royal milking nozzles, and the sides of Fey's petticoats pushed out and up to either side as her smooth, blemish-free, and pale noble belly rolled outwards, ballooning with boiling hot fresh horse spunk.

Fey was running out of time! It wouldn't be long before the Duchess was so large that she lifted Fey from the ground, immobilising her. She staggered forward awkwardly with the rising mass below her barrel.

But there was one more obstacle before she could leave. The duke came to a sliding stop in front of her, his face red with anger as he drew his blade.

"I demand you control yourself! What is this disgusting mess you have made of my suite you stupid peasant? You're as useless and stupid and thickheaded as Beatrice in heat is!"

There was a sudden stillness from beneath Fey, a moment of thought, and then the front skirt flipped up and a blast of Duchess-delivered horse cum crashed into the duke's solar plexus.

The duke, standing on the slippery marble, didn't stand a chance, and he went tits over elbows, crashing to the ground in a flailing mess.

Fey saw her chance and dashed past, hooves darting by with carefully placed steps. Of course, what she carried with her was less daintily placed. The Duchess had become so large that her belly protruded over a meter from either side of Fey's barrel, and the duke had the unfortunate experience of being rolled over top by the immense weight of so much cum belly, momentarily flattening him against the marble.

Fey didn't stop and sprinted toward the door just as another powerful ejaculation ballooned the Duchess's belly out past two meters, the top of her cum filled tummy rising up either side of Fey's barrel.

The doors were ripped off their hinges as she struck, desperately and very awkwardly running nearly out of control. The wooden things launched down the hall, even as the Duchess's belly slammed against the door frame.

For one dismay filled moment, Fey thought she was stuck, her back hooves clattering against the marble but unable to push herself through the double doors with the Duchess now too large to fit.

But then, with a cry, she slammed her back hooves down, shattering the marble and digging her hooves an inch into the rock. She thrust, putting her full strength to work, and with a lurch, she and the Duchess popped from the doorway and into the hallway.

Beatrice's cum belly sloshed outward to fill the space, but there was still just enough room for Fey to move, and so she did, running down the hall in a panic as the woman below her swelled even larger, her cum belly pressing against the walls.

Unfortunately, it was truly hopeless. By the time she reached the end of the very long hall and the exit to the extensive noble suite, the Duchess would be far too large to fit. It seemed inevitable that she would be trapped then on hostile territory.

Her heart sunk until, ahead of her, Daisy suddenly darted from a doorway and beckoned for her to follow. Fey hurried after her in an instant, finding her opening what appeared to be a large sliding cargo door that had been disguised behind a tapestry. Beyond it she found a room that looked different from the others, built with less decoration and a simpler, more functional design, built for servants. Strangely, the floor was made of metal. She squeezed through the extra-large doorway even as another powerful ejaculation expanded Beatrice further, rapidly filling the room.

Daisy slammed the sliding door closed behind her and threw herself to the side, grabbing hold of a long bronze lever and heaving it down.

Fey's heart jumped into her throat as the floor beneath her lurched, then dropped, a slow fall that sent them sinking down vertically. The room she had been in fell away above, apparently only the top part of some kind of deep pit or, more specifically, an elevator shaft.

Fey struggled to make sense of what was happening even as load after load blew into the Duchess, her hooves lifting away from the ground as cum belly filled the strange room-sized elevator from wall to wall.

Fey thought she might end up trapped there, stuck in the elevator permanently and forever, but the thing finally came to a stop hundreds of feet below ground, emerging into a grand open space and then hitting the ground with a boom as it came to a stop.

Which was fortunate, as the Duchess's belly was exerting such pressure on the cage that with a shriek of metal, it gave out. The sides of the elevator collapsed as cum belly surged outward, free to expand into the cavernous space.

Fey instantly stopped holding herself back, and the Duchess doubled then tripled in size as they both screamed and screamed, Fey double barrel ejaculating lakes worth of jizz into the thrashing duchess.

And then it was done, and a sweat-covered, panting Fey dragged her head up from the vast belly that was the Duchess.

She looked around to find hundreds of maids looking up at her in surprise, most of them bent over milking stations, glass nozzles jumping up and down as they drew spurts of milk from hundreds of enormous breasts.

Daisy had found her somewhere to hide that no noble would ever go to: The maids' private dairy.

Fey felt like a fox in a henhouse.