Fit for a King, by Josh Dugan

I was lost in reverie watching the farm hands. How well the term farm hands
fit them -- they were tall, muscular youths -- four-armed, with four hands.
Something about their extra hands made them irresistable, and I tried to
think back to their first arrival at the royal winery.
Ever since the King had gotten on the good side of the handsome warlock who
controlled the magic of the land over which the King was, well, King, things
had been going very well. I wasn't sure whether the King was truly in love
with the warlock or whether it was one of the warlock's spells, but things
were wonderful either way. The King and the warlock were both handsome young
fellows, or should I say all three of them, because the warlock would
sometimes double himself when ravishing our beautiful King.
 Anyway, a lot of good work was getting done at the royal vineyards. And we
had lately lucked into several spates of strong young farm hands, and my mind
often drifted pleasantly as I watched their well-muscled, handsome bodies
toil, sweating in the summer heat.
I love to see good work being done, and truth be told, I love to see good
workers. Somehow the warlock had divined my secret taste in men - big,
beautiful and stupid, and somehow I knew it was no coincidence that a stream
of them had in recent weeks begun stumbling onto the royal grounds, looking
for work. I couldn't turn them away - they were clear-eyed youths,
beautifully tall and muscular and, to my liking, dumb as bricks. Obviously
the warlock's work, and I really liked them!
I had been instructing the latest batch of them on the work they would be
doing, inwardly loving the way they winced and moved their lips as they tried
to follow what I was saying, unconsciously holding onto each other's bodies
as they sweated in the still summer heat.
The warlock must have been reading my mind when he rode up on his favorite
centaur stallion, a deeply-tanned, broad-shouldered beauty with lips and eyes
to die for. "They're easily confused," the warlock smiled, crossing his
forearms and leaning them on the beautiful shoulders of his centaur. "But
they like simple motivations to make them happy, and then they'll tirelessly
do anything you want. May I show you?"
"Sure," I said.
"Fine; watch this. This will make them happy and help them do a better job
for you." He turned to the sweet-faced, strapping youths. "If you promise to
work hard for this man, I'll double your arms - you'll be able to do more
work easier, and think of all the fun you can have with a nice extra set of
arms."
The young mens' eyes widened, and they nodded their agreement.
"Done!" said the warlock.
And then they were all laughing and delighted, showing each other their
beautiful extra arms, slapping and punching each others' bodies playfully,
wrestling and hugging each other. Their shoulders were broadened and doubled;
all the arms and hands looked so good, really quite sexy, and it did
something to me to see the long-armed young men so muscular and beautiful
with their extra arms.
 "Thanks," I said. 
 The warlock said, "You're welcome."
I thought I saw the warlock sway slightly, but I realized it was because his
centaur was swaying slightly on his four legs. Actually, now that I noticed,
it, the handsome centaur was quite inebriated, absent-mindedly tracing beads
of sweat on his magnificent torso, drawing patterns in the sweat droplets on
his chest and stomach with his finger. I also noticed for the first time the
sweet scent of wine on the centaur's breath.
 I gave the warlock a quizzical look.
 "That's what I've come to talk to you about," the warlock said. "That's also
why we need the extra hands," he said, nodding to the happy and somewhat
aroused knot of sweating young gods, who were running their fingers through
each others' hair, and also beginning to look hungrily at the beautiful
drunken centaur.
 "Something wrong?" I said, concerned.
 "Just that I'm out of my mind in love with the King," the warlock smiled. I
smiled, too. It was both sweet and insane love, but I was happy for both of
them. Or all three of them, as the occasion required.
 "Never mind my drunken stallion here; it's in the  line of duty. I've got my
centaurs on a special project, and I'm using all the magic my heart can
distill for this one," the handsome warlock said winsomely. "I want to
present my love the King with the finest, sweetest wine ever created."
 "So your big stallion guy has been helping with the quality control?" I
smiled. The handsome centaur noticed he was being talked about, and tried to
focus his beautiful eyes on me as he clumsily wiped sweat from his brow with
a powerful forearm. His other hand had found a prominent nipple on his noble
chest; a finger twirled slowly around the nipple as it reddened and firmed.
He smiled at me and giggled gently. The sweet wine smell on his breath was
turning me on.
 The warlock gave the drunken centaur's shoulders an affectionate squeeze,
and the centaur looked back smiling at the warlock, his four legs doing an
unsteady dance as he tried to keep his powerful body balanced.
 The warlock wrapped his arms around the centaur's beautiful torso and hugged
it, and the centaur held the warlock's arms against him. They kissed, and the
centaur swayed again.
 The tall young workers groaned softly, appreciatively, their arms around one
another also.
 "It's a labor of love," the warlock smiled at me, when he had recovered from
the kiss. "All my centaurs have given their bodies over to the production of
the finest wine ever made, for love of my King."
 He explained how he had transformed the centaurs' innards and genitalia to
make Centaur Wine. When they consumed freshly stomped grape juice, their
centaur bodies rapidly fermented it, and for the amount of grape juice they
drank, a certain proportion would be transformed, via their huge centaur sex
organs, so that when they made love, their cum would be fine wine.  
 If they drank fine wine, their cum would be cognac.  If they drank cognac,
their cum would be very superior stuff.  What they drank would be blended.  
 "This all would involve a lot of drinking," I said, intrigued. 
"It certainly does," the warlock smiled. "My handsomely hindquarted friend
here has been working with the other centaurs to help me come up with the
perfect wine -- here come the others now. Care to bring your farm hands up to
have a look?"
"Sure, " I said. 
I heard the slurred voices of the handsome half-dozen centaurs approaching as
they laughed and playfully touseled each others' hair or held each other in
armlocks as their clumsy hooves stumbled, their horse bodies bumping each
other. They were obviously intoxicated, and by their degree of arousal I
could tell they had been producing copious amounts of fine wine. They were
laughing and holding on to one another's magnificent muscular bodies as their
hooves stumbled and tripped. Two of them spontaneously coupled, one handsome
centaur mounting a buddy centaur, both of them moaning as the first centaur
shot his load into the centaur he was mounting.
"It's hard for the centaurs to remember to have only oral sex," the warlock
explained. "They get so drunk doing the wine fermentation that they end up
losing some of it in each others' hindquarters. If you and your farm hands
can help, it would be excellent to let the centaurs have as much sex as they
want -- oral sex. Their bodies will further refine the already excellent wine
their sex organs are producing -- the important thing is to help them
remember to suck each other down."
"I'd be glad to help," I said, feeling excited by the work we had to do. 
"For the centaurs to rump-feed each other is of course wonderful, but it
hinders the actual wine production to some extent," the warlock explained,
 holding onto his reeling ride as the drunken centaur dizzily turned towards
the sound of laughter and slurred speech from his intoxicated fellow
centaurs. 
The centaurs finally stumbled up to us, one of them giving the warlock's
centaur a very relaxed and lazy hug and a remarkably deep kiss. They both
stumbled and seemed about to lose their balance, but their hooves managed to
hold onto the earth. 
"I'd better get my four-armed farm hands onto the centaurs' horsebacks," I
told the handsome warlock. The warlock didn't seem to be paying attention,
and in fact appeared aroused and distracted by being seated upon a centaur
whose arms were around another magnificent centaur. 
"Fine," he answered.
"No problem," I answered, not sure if he was aware of what we were talking
about. The beautiful young men, still wowed by their four arms, helped each
other on to the centaurs, who were obviously becoming quite aroused at the
sight of the beautiful four-armed young men. The drunken centaurs seemed to
enjoy having a pair of the rider's hands on their shoulders and another pair
clasped about their tall centaur torsos. There wasn't a penis among the
centaurs or their beautiful four-armed passengers that wasn't aching and
aroused. 
The centaurs seemed to realize how stupid the beautiful farm hands were, and
I realized that they shared my taste for beautiful-bodied, gorgeous,
brainless young men. One of the centaurs, a magnificent blonde with a
splendid golden palomino equine body, had persuaded his giggling four-armed
farm hand to let the centaur hug him. The aroused centaur and the farm hand
were deep into a kiss when the centaur inserted his amazingly huge frontal
hardon snugly into the dumb stud's muscular behind.
The farm hand screamed with pleasure, penetrated by the giant frontal centaur
organ. His four arms forgot to hold onto the centaur and his four beautiful
hands relaxed, hanging from their wrists, as he writhed in ectasy, moving his
buttocks in enjoyment of the centaur stallion inside him. Luckily, the
centaur's muscular embrace held the farmhand's body firmly, while the centaur
nuzzled the young man's beautiful chest. Soon the farm hand's four hands were
caressing the centaur's blonde hair and muscular shoulders, and in moments
the centaur squeezed the beautiful four-armed youth to him, grunting and
spasming as his enormous frontal hardon ejaculated repeatedly into the young
man's handsome rump.
Soon all the centaurs were making love to their four-armed youths in the same
way, and the warm air was full of their groans and cries, as the centaurs
pumped their young men's muscular rumps repeately with their huge,
ejaculating frontal hardons, their hind hardons swaying heavily to and fro
between their hind legs.
The tall, muscular bodies of the sweet youths relaxed in the embraces of the
drunken centaurs, and the youths' four arms clumsily embraced the beautiful
torsos of the centaurs as their legs wrapped around their waists, their lips
full and warm against each others'.
The tall young four-armed men smiled sweetly and lazily rested in the
muscular embrace of their centaurs, who carried the youths up to the winery,
their four legs stumbling and clumsy, their enormous frontal hardons buried
in the handsome asses of the young men.
I couldn't take my eyes off the beautiful centaur-youth couples, and I
couldn't help noticing how much more appealingly stupid the beautiful young
men now seemed -- lazy, clumsy and dazed -- when I realized that the young
four-armed men were suddenly very drunk themselves, their tall bodies relaxed
and comfortably careless in the centaurs' embraces.
"Wine enemas," the warlock said to me, noticing my stares at the blissed-out,
listless drunken youths. "The centaurs are coming wine or even stronger come,
and once in the young men's rectums, the alcohol goes right to the
bloodstream. Those boys are drunk as lords."
"That they are," I agreed, somewhat aroused at the sight of my beautiful farm
hands drunk in the arms of their handsome centaur friends. "What kind of come
are those centaurs ejaculating into the farm hands?" 
"It depends," the warlock explained, enjoying the chance to share one of the
finer points of his magical spell. "One quart of wine requires two gallons of
grape juice, for example... and the other steps involve similar ratios from
what gets drunk and what the centaur ultimately ejaculates.
"There's a lot of almost continuous ejaculation involved, but it has to be
done 
 carefully, otherwise a lot of careful work can wind up on the floor. That's
why the safest sex for these centaurs is oral sex, since that way nothing can
get lost."
I had to envy the centaurs for the work they got to do. Still, I thought,
after a day's work these centaurs were pretty smashed. 
"They can turn beer into incredibly fine ale," the warlock said, almost
musing to himself and looking quite aroused. "Strawberries and kiwis are
turned into into incredible liqueurs. As you can see from the romances
forming among your four-armed farm hands, my centaurs tend to be pretty
popular."
I could see it was going to be a challenge to keep my farm hands on their
feet. "How about if we let the farm hands be centaurs also," I suggested.
"You can make them wine-producing centaurs if you like. At least they'll be
able to remain standing while they suck each other off."
"I was thinking the same thing," the warlock agreed, idly massaging the
massive muscles of his centaur's shoulders. "Or if you think it would be more
practical from a housing standpoint, we can just keep the farm hands human,
but four-legged. I'm sure they'll be delighted, by the way they are enjoying
their extra arms. And they could still produce wine; they'd have frontal and
hind genitalia to work with, and you'd only have to worry about getting them
used to having four human legs, rather than learning how to get around with a
horse's lower half."
"Fine with me," I said, fully aroused at the thought of it. "But do you think
it will be a problem for your centaurs that the farm hands have been upgraded
so quickly?"
"Not at all," the warlock smiled. "With the type of spells I've woven, they
won't even care. I guess I like them stupid, too."