The Maiden and the Satyr

On a warm day, a young woman walked through the fringes of the forest. She carried a small basket, in which she planned to gather herbs. She wore a red dress with full skirts, low-necked, with a neckerchief tucked in for modesty. Over the skirt of the dress she wore a neat white apron, which she kept white through meticulous cleaning. Her dark hair was braided into a crown on her head, and worn without a kerchief, since she was unmarried.

Music, so faint at first that she failed to notice it, wove through her daydream. She became hot. She stopped to remove her neckerchief and realized that the music was not part of the daydream. It was light and airy, and it sounded almost as natural as the sound of wind whispering through aspen leaves. Unable to stop herself, she followed the music deeper into the dark part of the forest, heedless of the dangers she'd been told lurked there.

As she walked, she became hotter. It was strange, really, since usually one becomes cooler under the shade of the trees. She looked around, making sure that there was no one around, then pushed the sleeves of her dress down, baring her shoulders. When that didn't cool her off enough, she pushed the bodice of her dress down entirely, so her top half was left in just a chemise. The nipples of her soft, full breasts showed through the thin linen. She pushed the chemise down so it just barely covered her breasts.

The music grew louder. A hot feeling started in her core and worked down to the space between her legs, which grew slick. She felt suddenly abuzz with a strange energy she didn't know how to get rid of. She began to pant.

In this state, she stepped out of the woods into a clearing. In the clearing stood a man... no, not a man, but something like one. He had the head and torso of a man, with long flowing hair and a scruffy beard. Horns curled out of the top of his head. He played a pan flute - the source of the music. At the hips his body changed from that of a man to that of an animal of some sort. A goat, perhaps, with those hooves? Yes, definitely a goat, she decided, as he turned slightly and she could see his tail.

It was then that she realized he was naked. She stood, frozen. Perhaps she should back away into the woods. No, no, he had seen her. He turned to face her watched her over the top of his flute. The music moved her, and she stepped farther into the clearing, closer to him. As she watched, his member began to pulse. With each pulse it grew and stiffened, until it was pointing straight at her, rigid. The warmth between her legs grew. Looking straight into his eyes, she pushed her chemise down off her breasts.

He looked at her with great seriousness. The music stopped, and he put the pan flute down. He took a step towards her, and then another. She stood, trembling, and reached for him. At last, he was within arm's reach, and she reached out to touch his chest. His skin was hot. He reached out, trailed a hand from her cheek down to her breasts. He circled her nipple with one finger, then, suddenly, pinched it. Something snapped in her, and she closed the distance between them. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, hard. His tongue probed the inside of her mouth and his arms crushed her to him. His member pushed against her belly, inflaming her further. She squirmed against him, wanting. He hoisted up her skirts and let a hand slowly travel up her thigh.

He gently - very gently, more gently than she expected - pushed a blunt-tipped finger into her. He drew it out and pushed it in again. He quirked it inside her, making her arch her back. Smirking, he continued pushing the finger in and pulling it out. Soon he added another finger; after a few strokes, she begged for one more.

A rustling came from deeper in the forest. They both looked up. Human voices. He withdrew his fingers from her and stepped away. As he backed into the forest, he brought the fingers he'd had inside her to his mouth and licked them. A shudder went through her. She sat panting for a moment before putting her clothes back on and going back to her village.

She returned to the clearing the next day, after a night of dreams featuring the satyr. He appeared there, his cock already hard. She pulled down her clothes to expose her breasts. He came to her in no great rush. He undid the ribbons holding her hair up, ran his fingers through her braids until her hair hung loose about her body. He put his hands about her waist, kissed her, trailed kisses down to her collarbone, her breasts. He nibbled at her nipples, making her gasp. With a dirty smile, he took her hand and placed it on his cock. Its stiffness, its heat, sent a wave of desire through her. She stroked it up and down, up and down. His leg twitched as she did it.

He picked her up bodily and placed her in the crook of a tree. He spread her legs and put one on each shoulder. He kissed her between her legs, sucked on the little nub directly above her slit, pushed his tongue into her. She gripped the tree trunks on either side of her. Her body filled with tension. He went faster and harder until all the tension released at once. Panting, she fell out of the tree onto him. He kissed her, and his mouth tasted like her. She fell to her knees, licked from the base of his cock to the tip, tried to put it in her mouth, but he stopped her. He kissed her forehead and disappeared into the woods.

She was wet between her legs the rest of the day, all night, and the following morning. Her heart was not in her work; all she could think about was how much she wanted him. As soon as she could get away, she disappeared to their clearing. She stripped off her dress, leaving herself in just her shift. Soon, he appeared. His cock was stiff and long and she wanted it so, so badly. He carried her back to the same tree as yesterday, took her hair down from its braids, threaded fragrant flowers into it. He kissed her all over until she begged him to take her. He slipped her shift off over the top of her head and laid her down on a bed of soft meadow grasses. She spread her legs for him. He hovered over her, dragging his cock along her belly down to her slit.

Slowly, slowly, he moved it down until the head pressed against her opening. He smiled teasingly at her until she wrapped her legs around his furry haunches and pulled him inside her. She gasped at the feeling, at how his cock stretched her out. He kept pushing into her, pushing, pushing until he was all the way in, deeper than she could have imagined. He just stayed there for a moment, looking down at her. Then he began to thrust. Little thrusts at first, then longer and longer until he was moving the full length of his cock in her with each thrust. He went faster, then slower, then faster again. She wrapped her legs around him, moving with him, panting.

Finally, with one more thrust, he flooded her pussy. They sat there for a moment, looking at each other, until he pulled out. Thick, white liquid oozed out of her. They lay in the grass together, staring up at the sky. It was becoming dark. She knew she should get back to the village, started to get up, when she noticed his cock was still hard. She flipped over and straddled him. Slowly, she sank down on his cock, feeling it fill her until it could go no farther. He smiled wickedly up at her. She ground rythmically on his cock until he flooded her again.

The next morning, she walked home, her thighs rubbing together slickly with his jism. Her family had been worried. She reassured them. As she went through her day, she realized the comforts of home didn't feel the way they used to. Something felt off about them. Or perhaps the problem was with her.

She met her satyr in the woods again that night. And again the following night. And again the night after that. Changes began to come over her. Gradual, slow changes. Her hair, though still glossy, grew rougher. Even when she tried to braid it neatly, it looked as though she'd been running through the woods. She'd find bits of bark or twigs or leaves in it when she could swear she had brushed them all out. Her skin grew tougher, harder to scrape. Her clitoris grew until it was the size of her thumb and protruded out from between her nether lips; they squeezed and rubbed it when she walked, stiffening with each step, bringing her to the brink even on the short walk to fetch water.

Her satyr had to go away for a few days, he said. He had business that would take him away from the forest. He hoped she would be alright without him.

She waited a day. Her pussy throbbed with need. She got up in the night, in just her shift, and prowled the village. She found a man sleeping rough, a wandering knight, and woke him. Almost in disbelief, he watched as she knelt next to him. She took his hands and placed them on her breasts, let him feel how hard her nipples were. They both stripped. She straddled him and rode until he climaxed inside her.

She was disappointed to find human men couldn't go multiple times in one night. She picked up her nightdress and moved on.

Out back of a house nearby, she found an older man, a widower with silver streaks in his beard, sitting in a chair looking at the moonlight. When she stepped out of the shadows, fully naked, his eyes widened. She straddled his lap and rubbed herself, still dripping, on him. He kissed her breasts and sucked her nipples. She felt him grow hard beneath his hose. She rose a little so he could push them off. His cock flopped out, stiff. She sank back down on it, and they rocked together until he, too, flooded her.

She moved on. She looked in the window of a nearby house and found a young husband and wife frolicking in bed. She stopped to watch them, then knocked on the window. They both looked at her in astonishment. The woman came over and opened the window, clearly about to give her a piece of her mind. She grabbed the woman's hair and kissed her. The woman softened under her touch. She climbed through the window, still kissing the woman. She trailed kisses down to her breasts, down her stomach, down to the space between her legs. Doing as her satyr had done, she tasted the woman's slit, licked circles around her nub until her back arched in pleasure.

The husband came around behind her as she worked and slid his cock into her dripping slit. The seed of two other men lubricated her so the man's eyes rolled back as he pushed inside. He set up a rhythm, holding onto her hips as she brought his wife to climax. Right as he was about to climax inside her, she whirled around, got down on her knees, and took his cock into her mouth. After a couple more strokes, he filled her mouth with his seed. She turned back around and spit it into his wife's cunt, massaging with her tongue to work it in.

She passed her nights in that manner until her satyr returned.

"You've grown wilder in my absence," he said, as he took the messy braids out of her hair. Jism dripped down her inner thighs. Satyrs are not a possessive species; seeing the evidence of her escapades only inflamed his desire further. He thrust into her, hard, until she cried out in pleasure.

She spent that night naked, in the crook of a tree. Her family was angry with her when she showed up that morning in nothing more than a shift. Though she tried to explain, she couldn't make them understand.

The changes in her continued. She could no longer fall asleep in her bed. It was too soft. For a while she could sleep on her floor; soon, she craved only to climb deep into the canopy of a tree to sleep. Clothes felt too tight, too restrictive. Her bodices felt like they wanted to suffocate her, and her skirts as if they were trying to trip her. Soon, even her chemise became too much. Spending her days spinning and weaving made her feel sick.

One day, she walked out into the forest. She folded her clothes neatly and left them in a hollow tree, where they were later found. She ran off into the dark part of the woods, the part she used to think was dangerous. The cold no longer bothered her. Tree bark scraping against her skin only titillated her. As she climbed into a tree to nap while she waited for her satyr - or any satyr, really - she realized she was a creature of the woods now, wild and free.