Curses Ch 12

Chapter 12: Satyress - Some Mythic Sex

As a demon I'd been a total bitch, and quite literally heartless. The flight back helped to quench my inner furnace, and once I landed in front of our house, my wings simply disappeared. Only when I'd clopped around to the back yard did I realize it was actually still dark out -- not only did my night vision suck again, but my previously fiery pussy was no brighter than a nightlight. I glanced at my hands and confirmed that my talons were gone.

When I stepped up to the door of the basement I now shared with Oli and Gracie, I knew I was back where I belonged. The notion of having a real family -- of a sort -- was totally heart warming (particularly now that I again had a pulse). Still feeling larger than life, I strode into the basement and yelled, "Hello, this place! I'm home!"

My grand entrance was wasted - neither girl was around. Disappointed, I turned to close the door and abruptly found myself squinting out at sun-dappled little meadow. More exactly, what with the unicorn drinking from a little pool, it looked like your basic Greek mythic sylvan glade. While startling, it was also quite delightful, and I stepped through the multi-purpose portal to check it out.

But before sightseeing I felt obliged to look back -- yup, there was the shabby basement I'd just left. Gently, I pulled the door shut, and then took stock of my new surroundings. Right in front of me was a high waterfall, which split into wild rivulets as it tumbled down into the foaming pool my new crypto-zoological friend was enjoying. The thing's wonderful wang was extended, and I made a mental note to revisit him - soon.

In the rainbow-arced mist above, the gold and green wings of myriad faeries shimmered. Even their wee tits and pussies were dazzling, decorated as they were with flashing beads of water ... among other fluids. The beasties were, in fact, fornicating mightily. Their swirling airborne maneuvers were both exciting and educational, perhaps not least because the males were hugely outnumbered (although truly huge in other ways, considering their size overall).

This busy pool fed a creek running along the woods to my right. Dragging myself away from the fae fuckage to follow the stream's path, I saw that it flowed into a beautiful water-lily strewn pond. And two paces to my side, the Door stood upright like a parody of a monolith, with wildflowers growing against its frame. Nearby, bell-collared goats scampered, tinkling, among the grazing zebra. So not entirely Greek, then.

Just beyond, in the shade of several huge blue willow trees overhanging the pond, was a vine-entangled stone temple. On the terrace fronting this structure stood a rudely carved throne -- and there sat Gracie, a cup of tea in her hand. She was naked, as per usual, and reading a book in her lap, this being her only (and accidental) concession to decorum. Of course, she was, by that small margin, still more modestly presented than me.

I started walking toward her, but then the sun flashed from behind me. Turning back, I saw Oli's big mirror on what should have been the INSIDE face of the door. Luckily, I had yet to consider the horror of what I might encounter if I went through from that side again, rather than back the way I came. Instead I found myself studying my reflection: staring back was a sexy satyress.

There were similarities to the demon I'd only just been, mind you. I still had horns and hooves - although both these features were practically dainty, as compared to the demonic sort. I was altogether fleshier than when wearing my Danielle body, with wider hips and much more generous boobies. What with the being thicker through the middle as well, I had a definite earth-mother thing going on.

My still pointy ears were nearly hidden in a tangle of brown hair, while the fur on my legs now went up to my mid-thighs. The recently bare triangle above my pussy was shaggy now, and a fresh little patch of cute curls had appeared between the tops of my proud jugs.

I also noticed that my nose had become slightly snub, and my clit definitely fatter -- my gaze having been drawn to these features by the oversized rings that still adorned them, which were gleaming in the reflected sunlight (my new bush thicket notwithstanding). And, as I turned back to the willow, I saw my tail was now short and furry.

Thus informed, I strolled over to the enthroned Grace. "Hello, My Lady."

She looked up and smiled. "Hello, Danny. I'm afraid Olivia is still visiting her friend."

Still being humped by her werewolf client, I thought, as Gracie put aside her teacup and closed her book. It was Ovid's 'Metamorphoses', which more or less explained the meadow, my current transformation, and her now pointy ears -- but not how she could be lounging deep inside a fantasy I thought Olivia or I was supposed to facilitate.

And then she put her tome aside, and I could see what it had been hiding: the cock she'd grown the previous evening was still coiled cozily in her lap. I licked my lips and, as she stood, watched it unreel itself and grow firm. My understanding was that satyrs chased nymphs and, although our genital hardware had been transposed, I presumed that my quest remained the same.

Once on her feet, she glanced down at the last of the cum draining out of my pussy after my flight home -- it not only coated my inner thighs but matted my bush and my leg fur. By the time she'd looked back up, I wore a traditional satyr's lustful leer, and she backed around behind the stone seat she had been adorning.

Having recently been a succubus, I already knew how useful goat legs were for jumping, and the five feet to the terrace above was an easy hop. Gracie scrambled back into the ruins of the temple. We were inside an amazingly elaborate fantasy, but at the time I was too focused on getting this dryad's fat member into my hungry cunt.

There were lots of places for her to duck out of sight, if only briefly. Panting with desire, I lurched through the maze and flushed out my quarry time and again.

"Come out, wherever you are," I crooned.

Of course, she wasn't trying too hard, and I had soon cornered her in a rudely decorated side room -- sitting on what was meant to be an ancient Grecian altar. She tried to look distressed, but her grin soon took over. She flopped back, her clit-flesh mast standing tall, and I obliged her by making a show of standing victoriously over her before I squatted to drive the lovely thing into my tight pussy.

We fucked for some time and were soon glistening with sweat - that little tuft of fur between the tops of my tits became totally sodden. So was my pussy thatch and the shaggy fur on my thighs, but that was mostly sex slime from Gracie and my Ramsgood gig (plus a little pirate spunk from yesterday). I was still holding her tool captive inside me -- with one hand on an ass cheek and three fingers of the other in her cunny -- when Oli The-Other-Wood-Nymph showed up.

"Have you two fucked the trolls or the were-bear yet?"

Gracie and I both turned toward her, our pointy ears having pricked up to hear that there was yet more recreation to be had in this fantasy world. I looked back at the dryad currently on top of me -- still merrily pumping her meat into my hole -- and she laughed. "I just heard the waterfall when I was reading one of Olivia's books, and wandered out the back door with my tea to check it out," she admitted.

Barring her own pointed ears (and the black tabby-stripes still on her face) Oli looked like she had when we first met. "I'm pretty proud of this place," she said, grinning. "Chuck and Clarissa, the centaurs, like to hang out just downstream a ways. There are horny dragons, too, but they live in a mountain about six miles upstream."

That made me want to explore, for sure -- but I was still engaged in servicing Gracie. Or vice versa, I suppose. She was new at this, and it showed, what with the steady enthusiastic plunging. To be fair, even after some years of practice, I discovered I'd been shit, too. What I'd been lacking until now was proper feedback. Still, she'd had a go at both sides now -- I just had to remind her.

So I began to play a soundtrack in my head, and to twist my pelvis to the rhythm of the drums, while munching her with my pussy to the inner melody of the harmonica. Rather quickly, she fell in with my syncopated actions, and to focus on pleasuring me as my inner tempos guided her.

To my great satisfaction she began to sing along with my movement, in a snarled alto. "If you ever meet the ... Midnight ... Rambler ..." and wham, wham, wham went her thrusts.

Nailed it, I thought, as she continued to nail me. To be honest, I was channeling the tune, not so much the words - but she was getting seriously worked up. The finale found her pumping her biggest load ever into my belly -- "Baby and it SQUIRTS," she roared.

Well, that worked for me ... and her improved technique helped to throw me into an orgasmic full body spasm underneath her, my cloven hooves flailing madly.

Gracie promptly collapsed onto the cushioning buffer of our combined boobies. She was panting heavily, clearly spent, and I cuddled her in my arms while her meat continued to twitch erratically inside me.

"Wow," agreed Olivia, once we two lovers had mellowed out a bit. She kissed her borrowed mom's butt and said, "Time to unplug yerselfs. There's a proper bed just through there."

In fact, the altar was far softer than it should have been, and 'there' involved a secret panel, but Oli led us into what she called the Priestess Quarters. The bed was actually an expanse of furs and rugs over a ginormous feather mattress. I wondered how many priestesses had been convened here.

Once we'd admired the rude tapestries and sculptures, and bounced ourselves to a comfortable corner of the bed together, we set to playing again -- picking up where we'd left off last night. More or less, anyway -- now it was me who looked different than the others. For variety, Gracie was the only one using her clit-staff but, as before, she still had a pussy where balls would ordinarily be expected. That's how she and Oli managed to simultaneously fuck themselves on my blunt horns.

They had to sit me on the floor with my knees braced on my chin (because one drawback to feather beds is instability) and then they stood over me. It was necessary for them to hold on tightly to one another -- not that squashing their titties together was a hardship -- and use their knees to generate the old in-and-out.

It probably goes without saying that I decided to gradually grow my horns longer and more bulbous-- and just a little rubbery. Without really intending it, I also made them sensitive to touch, so basically I now wore a brace of cocks on my head.

I tried to pace the continued growth of the things, so that my lovers would take a while to catch on; but I have no idea whether this worked. The two of them simply twisted and ground their stretched pussy-lips on my head, between the humping up and down needed to take my progressively taller horns.

It won't be a surprise, either, that I lost focus. I wasn't even aware I'd been regenerating my own clit-cock, until it was pushing against my lips. Jamming it into my mouth, I sucked hard and soon came. Embarrassingly enough, my cum then continued straight up and out my horns -- to the delight of the girls riding them, whose pussies seemed to suck the stuff away as fast as I could pump it into them.

They both came -- and Gracie launched a blast of her own cum onto the face of a nearby stone Venus. After I'd let up on my odd ejaculations, I heard Oli whisper 'dick-head'. The cheeky sluts giggled, even as they continued to knead my limp headgear with their still engaged cunts. I could only laugh along with them, as my horns began to revive.