Published: Jan 1st, 2012



goat (0) satyr (0)
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Reader Notice: This story was written for the TF fan and may not be worthwhile reading for the literary purest.

I sit atop a high hill overlooking the fields and gullies of my domain. Tilly lies near a tree keeping watch over more than just me, but of our surroundings, as she waits, keeping a watchful vigil for any who might dare to wander near.

Dearest Cassandra lays legs spread prostate before me on the ground. She with her long black tongue poking out her mouth ties to arouse me, giving an occasion friendly lick to my large as healthy big furry balls. I set and watch her, as looking down with feel of each new lick as she is reminding me of my status with her and those like her.

I am her sire, being a satyr true enough as always willing to do as play and taunt too at her sex. She enjoys this from both her human female past memories of us as lovers and as the sensual creature she has evolved into these many months.

Seated and thinking mostly of dark sensual thoughts, my concerns change as she slurps her tongue over my ball sac. I know we can not remain there in our favored grotto as civilization is ever encroaching closer, and I being the bearer of a curse can as will demean and doom any and all of those I meet and give of my love.

There is that ever present thought as a battle going on inside me between what was good and what is now vile, dark, and evil. I look around and see those who were friends or friendly types having become something animalistic of form and mentality. My past and present makes me shudder. I hold in me a want for more to be better, to accomplish something other than sex, damning, and causing nice people their doom. I became a thing worse than an animal knowing only lust and a never-ending desire for sex and want of more sexual sensations, mine is a small world!

Ah, I realize what was me is mostly gone now and with the passing months being a satyr goat, I note the fur is spreading and I suspect in time, my Cassandra and I shall be then more as equals.

Tilly barks her alert to the coming of people, most being men. I jump up and strike a defensive stance on hairy legs and cloven hooves. I look beyond where sits Tilly as to the east, and I see them with ease, dressed in their bright orange jackets.

It was after all the fall season, and hunting season, reminding me of our need for a heightened state of being alert. “Dear friends, we must find a good place to hide.” I said to Cassandra and Tilly.

Preferring then at least to flee and hide least I might take each hunter down and molest them into a mental and physical manner of being permanently submissive. We flee, as I run funny, not flat out like a horse, but with spurts, leaps and jumps. I am agile as can be, but for some silly reason my brain does not think correctly to allow me to just run in a level as a straight line.

Quickness and with our animalistic stealth we run a good distance from the onslaught of those men hunting, they talking, some near to drunk would shoot at anything hairy that might move among the bushes and trees. Moments later I see and we take refuge inside a thicket and snuggle down to lie quiet.

We have not long to wait before the snapping of a twig announced the coming of another entering our realm. I peer from the thicket to see this slender figured fellow coming closer and closer. Tilly wants to dash at him, but I hold her back thinking of how things could be worse yet for her if she were shot.

We are vigil at surveillance of all around us, though it is I who is undecided as what to do to, or then with the man if he were to come ever so close. To my horror he stops just a few yards from our tight thicket and begins to spread some rank scented liquid about the bushes and trees. The rank scent makes Cassandra to raise her snout and sniff, as she steps closer to the edge of our hideaway thicket. Her head is raised high and that cute soft nose searches the breeze for want of more scent. I am close behind her as from the excitement her tail wiggles, brushing it across the fur on my low hung big balls. I looked down at her as I swoon with lust and sexual desires for her, seeing she is aroused, but not for me. Her labia lips look puffy as well glistening of female juices, she is tempting me as only does one of her gender and species.

I know she wants to sniff up close what the man had spread. I am not without instinctive reactions to the bold scent, and as I think about the scent it tends to tingle in my nostrils too!

"Stag scent,” I said ever so softly, “That is what he spread, the scented odor of a male deer feeling of rut!" Wild as I became and am my reasoning ability reminds of a memory time when my uncle took me along on one of his cruel exploits as a hunter. I became then as insulted, angry, and from the bestiality in me I react accordingly by becoming aroused, my penis protruding out its sheath.

Tilly was first to note the approach of a deer doe moving toward the splash of rank scent that was filling the air.

My mind knows something to do as defend our continued sense of privacy, though I am hindered by a limited ability to fight in a manly sort of fashion. I do have fists, but standing as a satyr goat creature, my arms need reach to strike, as from instinct comes the want to fight by head-butting or wild hind high-kicks. Agile I am more than any man there ever was, but they have a gun and this evens out the conflict.

I tell Tilly to bark on my signal and draw the attention of the man, allowing me to stalk up close enough to spring upon him.

Cassandra was too excited and quick as she lets loose her most mournful a cry she of her kind can produce.

Tilly takes off at a run from out the thicket and the man turns as ready to shoot. I see my best window of attack and sprint out from the thicket and with a great leap forward, I do a body slam of the bastard against a tree trunk. My hit was hard enough to knock the wind and fight out of him, as then there was a scramble to rip his gun from clutched fingers. The gun falls to the ground and new scramble ensues, as a moment later he is without his weapon.

Hairy strong hands and arms pick up the hunter and I toss him to the ground, as I flop to set kneeling over his chest. I nestle my set self to where my big furred balls set snuggly under his narrow chin. I see his eyes widen from fright, as never expecting or having seen a real-live satyr such as am I!

With my hairy hand I reach, grab and rip back off his hat and hood, as he shrieked a shrill little scream. Imagine then the sudden horror of me a satyr to see as realize my prey was not a he but a she, she a lady hunter, how quaint!

Though my mindset remains vigilant and she having seen me assures her doom, to retain our private herd all who gain a knowledge that we exist requires they too become as a member of our herd. Her eyes tell all as she gawks at my massive two balls, scrutinizing a look at my goaty sheath, seeing the pointed head of a deeply red colored as half aroused an erection standing near to ready to infect yet another into joining of bestial existence.

Cassandra walks close and lowering her head she cocks it to gain a close view of she, her, our new prisoner-prey.

Tilly prances over to give her greeting and sits down keeping her wise and watchful eyes bearing on the lady and her every move.

A stunned as shaky voice our prey begs for me to let her go, as did so many others before her, she promises not to tell a sole of what she had seen. I feel her body shiver-shaking from fear but not of injury, as I realize her seeing such as me would make a bold man weep like a baby.

My first thought was to act out of consideration and kindness to a beautiful young woman. I was near to standing up and away as to release her and show my ever present good will. I would have, but as I started to get to my every goaty hind feet she tried to reach for a hunting knife, it sheathed inside her high boot.

Tilly was her quick self and launched at the lady grabbing as biting the dangerous hand. One nip and the lady withdrew her hand from reaching for the knife. She then scooted her cute butt across the leafy ground trying to reach again for her weapon.

Her aggressive attitude changed my mind as I leaped at as again onto her, covering her soft chest and leaning forward until we were nose to nose.

That satyr instinct took over and I remember the blur my hands unbuttoning as well removing her clothing, my fun friends helping, until moments later she laid there on the cool damp ground, being fully naked. Tilly growling in her aggressive best was enough to keep woman from trying to escape. Cassandra too, did her part and laid her hefty weight over the two shin bones effectively keeping her helpless and in place for my whims.

I sat over the young as scared woman eying her as she stared at my protruded goat cock, it being quite morbid of form and color as compared to one born on a man. As my cock continued to stiffen I reached a hand to begin stroking of it, gaining in me my animal desires, me stroking into a sexual frenzy. Thinking satyr thoughts my idea was simply to make her suck me dry and become a woodland faun to chase about and play. She had the sleek form worthy of making a most sensual faun, and the more I thought of how she would look, the more my cock began to leak pre as sputter out shots of cum across as between those lovely tapered as aroused womanly breasts.

Pleading with me and knowing in her heart what I was thinking of doing to molest her right then and there, she offered me riches untold. Her offers were in vain as a satyr needs not money but just sex, sex, and unending sexual pleasures.

I reached down my hands under her arms and stood her and I upright. As she hung there in my grasp I looked at her and felt more aroused as willing to add yet another to my herd. She hung there naked before me. As I took to looking into her face my eyes bringing hers to focus only at me, as I drew us into a snug hugging.

Oh how nice she was so warm her body to mine, a welcome partner on chilly fall nights. My satyr natural senses told of her fear fading, replaced by a sense of want and arousal. It was at that moment she relaxed and allowed me to hug her tightly, as we feel a mutual want for joining. She drawn up close to my hairy body, we felt my goat cock wiggle across the soft skin of he belly.

To which from the sensual feeling I smiled as she smiled, so I lifted her, allowing for my stout shaft to slide into position, poised for entry. I let her down so slowly, and with this my cock moved up inside her wondrous body. She moaned as did both Tilly and Cassandra, they having fond knowledge as of how nice we enjoy our sexual play.

A sense of bonding between what was a young woman then and me, my animal self mated with her womanly beauty.

A sire Billy goat takes but a short time to rise and mount. His savage thrusting brings him to climax quickly and most withdraw, as only to jump and mount the nanny several more times. Normally I was no different in this pattern of having sex. Yet with holding her slender soft form in my hairy strong arms she seemed different from all those who were before.

Even without doing any thrusting I felt the onrush of my semen spewing out the open end of my stiffened cock. She wiggling as my semen spewed, the fear in her eyes changing to a gaze of pure passion. She began her change of demeanor, as then kissed me passionately, her tongue pursing inside my mouth, becoming entangled of flesh with flesh, what I felt as saw from her eyes was a sense of willing acceptance.

Her male friends began calling her name, “Michelle,” as she smiled, kissed me again, her hands petting my goat ears, fondling them to stiffen me again to a second heightened climaxing. We all returned to the thicket and lad there until sundown, as Michelle and I breed; causing her body to change, conform, as within a week of frolicking she would be a Satyress. I knew from past experiences that Michelle being human as then satyr-like, she would escalate her desires to mare with buck goats too! Animal sex tends to excite and excel changing, as once she tried it her body would begin conforming more to the breed of her favorite mate.

It was a month after Michelle joined my herd that she wandered away, walking by then upon all fours, her udder and teats giving her new thrill sensations. By then she forgot she was ever anything other than a common farm animal. That is the good the bad and the future for our kind, we are lost in a seeking of pleasure, as never finding enough to last the tests of time.






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