Part 2 Giving a second Chance (Milky Minotaur TF)

On her way down the corridor, Diana tried very hard to look dignified, which was difficult when her sandals still echoed nervously on the stone. She kept going over what she’d just done.

Okay, positives. Heather wasn’t rotting in a cell anymore. Heather had a new purpose, a new life, and maybe even a new sense of honor. That was good. That was exactly what Diana stood for… second chances.

Negatives… well, Diana chewed her lip. The centaur part wasn’t exactly on the script. Neither was the whole “head vanishing into a political council” thing. She was pretty sure no handbook of divine miracles had ever listed that outcome.

“Alright,” she whispered to herself, hands clasped. “Lesson learned. Don’t let the imagination run wild. Just be careful with the phrasing. Next time will be clean. Absolutely clean. Perfect even.”

By the time she reached the next cell, she’d managed to convince herself of that.

Inside sat a woman in tattered armor, lounging like the prison bars were no more than a decorative fence. She had the bearing of someone who’d never been told “no” in her life.

Diana straightened and gave her speech again, her voice carrying that glow of conviction. “I am Diana, goddess of second chances, and I am here to give you—”

“It’s about damn time,” the woman cut in, swinging her legs off the cot. “I was wondering when someone sensible would show up.”

Diana blinked. “I—what?”

“I deserve it,” the knight continued, flipping her hair with a careless hand. “All my life I’ve been stuck in a family too small, too low. A petty knight’s daughter, when I should’ve been a duchess. Or a queen! Yes, a queen would suit me. Something important, that doesn’t actually need to work. Just give orders, be adored, boss people around.”

Diana’s hopeful smile froze. Her heart sank a little.

Ah. So this was Gabrielle. And this was going to be a problem.

But Diana quickly came up with a plan… well, kinda.

“I know where you’re from,” Diana said, folding her arms and trying to sound stern. “I know what your family stands for, and how much training you’ve been put through.”

Gabrielle scoffed, tossing her hair. “Training? Please. I never took it seriously. Why waste sweat when my family’s coin could clear the path?”

Diana’s jaw clenched. “Don’t you think you’d make a good knight?”

“Me? A knight?” Gabrielle laughed, tilting her head smugly. “I am a beautiful, tiny, dainty girl. The opposite of what some sweaty brute with a sword should be.”

Diana’s eyes narrowed, glowing faint gold. “Then how about we change that? How about you are a beautiful, tall, and brutishly muscular girl?”

Gabrielle rolled her eyes… until her whole body suddenly locked tight.

“What—?” Her smirk faltered. She staggered, clutching her chest. A pressure wrapped around her like invisible bands. Then, with a lurch, her body began to stretch upward.

Her legs elongated, armor creaking until the straps burst, her thighs swelling with slabs of raw muscle. Her calves tightened into cords of steel, hooves hammering the floor in her mind even though her feet still strained in shredded boots.

Her arms followed, doubling in thickness, veins rising against skin that bulged outward with power. Biceps flared even at rest, her forearms pulsing with strength she’d never known.

Her stomach rippled, a wall of muscle forcing its way out as though hammered from beneath. Plates of armor flew off, clattering to the ground as a sculpted six-pack pushed free, hard as granite and broad as a shield.

Gabrielle’s eyes went wide. She twisted, seeing her own body… no, a warrior’s body… more like a titan’s body, towering in the dim light.

Then the scream came.

It tore out of her throat, high and shrill, echoing against the stone. “AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”

Diana flinched but tried to stand tall. “See? Much better!”

Gabrielle whirled on her, cheeks flushed red. “Much better?! I look like some absurd fantasy of a man’s ideal body! A pile of muscles with… with cow-like tits stuck on the front!”

Diana blinked. “…You mean like a minotaur?”

“Yuck!” Gabrielle’s face twisted in disgust. “Don’t you dare come close to me with even the names of those beasts! They’re about as far removed from where I want to be as it gets.”

“You don’t say…” Diana murmured, her eyes beginning to glow again. “So you really want to be a minotaur, don’t you?”

Gabrielle’s jaw dropped. “Do you have working ears?! I said the opposite—!”

But even as she protested, her legs wrenched downward with a crack. Her boots exploded as her feet lengthened and fused, black hooves stamping against the stone. She stumbled, staring down in dawning horror.

“What’s so bad about them?” Diana asked innocently.

“They’re just dumb, muscle-brained milk dispensers!” Gabrielle snapped, her voice shaking with each new twitch of her body. “I even heard they’ve got four breasts from some sources—”

The words hadn’t even finished leaving her mouth before her chest swelled violently. Her breasts surged outward, huge and heavy, then, surprisingly, another pair pushed into existence beneath them, just as large. Her armor straps shredded and clattered to the ground. Her new rack strained and sloshed, a warm wetness blooming as milk began to drip.

Diana pressed both hands to her face. “Oh no, no, no… this might be going a bit out of hand.”

Gabrielle’s protests faltered. Her words slurred, her gaze unfocused. She slowed down, wobbling, as if her thoughts were slogging through honey. Then she muttered, almost dreamily. “Wait… if a minotaur had four breasts… how would she even milk herself… unless… unless she had four arms…”

There was a cracking pull at her shoulders. With a crunching sound, another set of arms pushed free beneath the first, thick and muscular, fingers curling into fists as though they had always been there. Gabrielle staggered forward, a towering, musclebound juggernaut with four dripping breasts and four bulging arms, her horns beginning to sprout at her temples.

Diana froze, her golden glow flickering nervously. “…Okay. Definitely overboard this time. Hey, are you… okay?”

“…Huh?” Gabrielle blinked, a little unfocused. Her massive frame swayed as she looked down at herself like it was all perfectly normal. “Yeah… I’m fine. Where were we? Just a moment ago… I felt so angry… and I don’t remember… why.”

Diana forced a smile, sweat beading at her temple. “I was asking you how loyal a minotaur lady like you is. And you very adamantly gave me your answer.”

Gabrielle straightened, flexing all four arms at once. “That’s right! Gabrielle is super loyal! If anyone tries to hurt Gabrielle’s friends, then they will get the Gabrielle Hammer.”

With a THOOM, a massive war hammer materialized in one of her hands, its head big enough to dent the cell wall. Diana’s eyes widened in horror—then realized they were still glowing. She squeezed them shut and cut the power immediately.

“Th-that’s great!” Diana said, trying to play it off casually. “In that case, consider yourself… your second chance given!”

“Gabrielle don’t need no second chances.” The towering minotaur ducked under the doorframe as Diana unlocked the cell. “Gabrielle always hits everything on her first try. Gabrielle swears it on the name of her knightly family.”

“…You look more like a berserker than a knight,” Diana muttered under her breath.

“Same difference to Gabrielle,” the minotaur declared proudly, stomping past.

“Fair enough.”

And with that, Diana had officially given two out of the three thieves their second chances. Although once again, the results were a bit… different than she had imagined. A bit more muscular, a lot more… milky, judging by the trail her new champion left behind as she happily stomped toward Heather’s headless body.

Diana pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. “…Sure, the next one will be perfect. It has to be.”

—

I am… the goddess of second chances! And… uhm… these inmates… I will give them a better life. Trust me!