The Prophecy
Ağustos 6, 2024
The Prophecy
She had never been submerged in water. She would not have known the simple
joy of bathing in a steaming tub, nor that of swimming fast in bubbling
creeks or merely splashing in sedate ponds; the sybil had warned her parents
soundly and their only daughter knew no other way to cleanse herself than to
scrub her skin slick with scented water from a basin. She often wondered
what life might have been had her family not moved inland, far from their
island home when she was but a babe. No matter, Athens was the land she
knew and it was here that she would live and die and never would the prophecy
be fulfilled.
Nysa smiled absently as she wove her hair and groomed her clothing, dusting
off the clinging pollen that rose from her skirt like dandelion fuzz. Her
neck seemed to incline naturally, evidence of her graciousness; and her hair
was thick and shiny-black, a perfect complement to her creamy skin and
darkly ancient-seeming eyes that resembled the hearts of pansies. Her face
was sweet but beauty found itself there only in the eyes of those who knew
her…her intensity was startling and her voice, replete with dignity and
a trace of haughtiness, completed the picture of a young woman who could
grow to command legions with her strength or who might, if neglected, become
the quintessence of viciousness. Her opinions of her world were still
relatively unformed given the extreme protectiveness of her parents.
The horses were resting, their coats gleaming brightly from their long and
arduous ride. Petros, Nysa’s brother, watched them lazily as he dipped
into their baskets for his lunch. He grinned when he saw his sister walk
toward him and he waved their companion, Agios, to join them for their
repast.
“Agios, see anything exciting?” Petros called to his friend who seemed
reluctant to leave his vantage point near the small cliff overlooking
the road ahead of and below them.
“There’s nothing yet. I’m expecting to meet another group of travelers
soon…it’s much too quiet today for such a busy area.” Agios shook
his head and chuckled, then headed back toward the clearing.
Nysa thought the world of her brother, and he of her, though neither
would have acknowledged that fact to anyone else. They were the two
younger children of five, the others being away from their parents’ house
and raising families of their own; Nysa was her brother’s junior by
barely a year and she was a good child, though spoiled, while they grew
up. Their playful disdain of one another had lessened considerably in
the last year or so, and both felt keenly the growing weight of maturity.
They had gone out together with Agios, the son of their neighbor and a
close friend since childhood, to look for medicinal herbs for the
family’s store; the road was well-known to the three and they were
considered old enough to travel the quarter-day’s journey alone. Still,
it was strangely liberating to be so far from the gentle influence of
home. The trio ate their bread and fruits and rested for awhile in the
shade.
When she woke an hour later Nysa was surprised to find that both Agios
and Petros had fallen asleep as well; she remembered only vaguely feeling
drowsy and hadn’t realized she was nodding off. She thought it best to
wake the pair only after she had combed and repaired her mussed hair
and had shaken the dust out of her skirts again; she wandered several
yards away and hid herself behind a cluster of rocks to disrobe and
effect her grooming. Her dress was full and typical of the ancient
Greek style, held in place at shoulders by a series of ornate pins and
ties and covering an underslip that was much simpler and cooler. Nysa
shook out the folds of cloth and draped her garment over a portion of
the stone after dusting it off. She unwound her heavy coils of hair
and was beginning to rebraid it when she heard a noise that startled her.
The sound was brief, and sharp; as though some creature had drawn near
and sensed her, then had stopped so as not to betray its presence. The
sound came again, and nearer, and Nysa ran swiftly to the far side of the
rock formation, away from her brother and companion.
She flew quickly toward a small, natural path and ran as fast as she
could toward the wood, hoping to call for help when she caught her breath;
Nysa’s heart pounded and, when she looked back, she stumbled and fell.
She lay still a moment, her arms bracing her up, and glanced back in the
direction whence she had come. She gasped, then laughed aloud when she
saw a pair of kids frisking, and chided herself with relief for being so
frightened and skittish. She shook her head ruefully, her hair even
more scattered now than before, and began to stand. She slipped again,
however, and landed with a small splash in the shallow creek that ran at
the foot of the damp and slippery incline which was the culmination of
the path she had taken. Her exasperation and growing disgust at her
predicament were driven from her mind by a bolt of foreboding as Nysa
looked down slowly at the water in which she was now standing.
“She will be a noble child, and grow into an even nobler woman,” the
sybil had intoned; “but her fate will be sealed when she gazes from her
pool into the eyes of a foul monster, a misbegotten spawn of the gods
and of the beasts. He will take her for his own and she will be chained
to him for eternity.”
The words echoed, roard through Nysa’s mind and her voice rose in a
wail of terror. She looked up to see him watching her with something
skin to amusement in his eyes.
At the sight of him Nysa’s voice stilled: he was hugely powerful, with
shoulders broader and more muscular than those of any man she had ever
seen; and his face was oddly angular, his nostrils widely flared and
the bridge of his nose as sharp as a knife’s edge. His gaze was languid
and his eyes were an even more penetrating darkness than her own, hooded
by brows that were thick and stern and frighteningly intelligent. He
smiled at her, kindly, and his grin revealed his obscenely white incisors;
it was then she noticed that his hair was coarse and covered tiny horns,
and that his lower body was quite similar to a goat’s. No, not quite —
his tail was long and thick and scaled rather than furred; and his
genitals were presented full rather than sheathed as one might have
expected.
“The water is cool…you’ll catch your death.” His voice was oddly
velvet, and hypnotic, like the embers crying from the ash. His words
were chilling in their simplicity.
Nysa was afraid to move. Her nightmare, a boring burden thrust upon her
by her parents, was all too real here in the daylight. She remembered
her brother and Agios with a start and noticed, bleakly, that this
creature was armed.
“I won’t harm your companions, though they should have been protecting you
instead of sleeping with their bellies full.” His grin broadened and his
eyes became appraising. “I wonder what price you are worth, petted one?
Can you cook, and keep a house well, and preserve fruits for the winter?
Or are you a mere trinket, a luxury for a wealthy man whose slaves can do
the work one leaves for his wife if his means are humble?” He smiled
again with genuine humor evident in his pose. His questions were either
mocking or showed his limited knowledge of what women were supposed to do
in the human world, and Nysa was unsure if she should risk crying out to
Petros and Agios or if she should try to cross the pond; never having
been in water before the cloying moisture surrounding her legs made her
feel on the verge of panic and coming face to face with this devilish
creature only lessened her ability to think clearly — her views on
superstitious nonsense, as she had believed it to be, were clearly deva-
stated because *here he was* and he was grinning at her and…
Nysa’s thoughts spun and she wavered wildly in her indecision. The
longer she stood in the water the more upset she became but she seemed
trapped gazing into this monster’s eyes. The girl who had led a
carefree existence was gone forever…Nysa matadorbet would have sneered at her
own melodrama if her situation hadn’t been so terrifically absurd and
horrifying. To be chained to this half-beast for eternity?
Her indecision vanished abruptly and Nysa flung her body backwards into
the pond; she had seen fish swim and it was better to die trying to
escape than to surrender herself to the loathesome thing that was
predestined to be her husband. Her breath was lost in the unfamiliar
force of the water and she began to choke, then flailed in panic when
she couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t control her limbs in
their panicked struggle to break the surface. She felt a dull pain
in the pit of her stomach and wondered what death would bring her.
A moment later she was hoisted out of the water by a very strong hand
and then the world was born again to her eyes, and the sky began to
swim like the fishes…then night fell.
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning to sell you in the marketplace.”
The creature grinned again – she was obviously a great source of
amusement for him, though her cynicism receded when the nausea hit.
Her stomach reacted strongly, as though she had eaten a great deal
of unripe fruit; but the pain subsided quickly and she did not
disgrace herself by emptying her stomach.
“My name is Kalimenos,” he remarked, as though it were of interest
to Nysa. “I thought to frighten you, for sport, and then to have
you on the grass before turning you loose. You would have liked it,
that I promise.” He spoke again, insulting words, and his voice
still caught like a damp, soft paw on silk. The tone was hypnotic
though its effect frightened Nysa and it disturbed her to wonder if
this were real or part of her passage to the underworld. Her head
ached suddenly, as if to assure her that she was, indeed still alive.
She groaned softly, unable to suppress herself.
“You are safe, I will not harm you. Rest now.” The beast murmured
soothingly and then the world was dark again.
When she awoke later Nysa felt her apprehension return. She looked
around as surreptitiously as she was able to see if Kalimenos were
still with her; he was, his back to her. He had built a fire and
was warming himself before it. She saw, too, that he and the bulk of
a very large cave lay between her and the door. The creature turned
slowly as if he had felt her eyes.
“I see you are awake. Would you care for some bread?” His tone was
almost courteous and Nysa realized, with a jolt, that she was hungry.
She shook her head, then cursed herself silently for deigning to
respond to her captor. She also made a mental note to learn to swim
when she got home. His smile returned, as cordial as before; and its
effect, once again, was to make Nysa feel as though she were being
made the fool. She resolved to stand — slowly — and the beast
appraised her efforts and acknowledged them with the tiniest flick of
his brow.
Kalimenos was at her side before Nysa realized he had moved and she
flinched, betraying her fear, when his arm encircled her waist.
“You should take advantage of your chance to sleep. We travel at
first light.” he said softly. She struggled against him when he
tried to lower her back to the bed, and her voice escaped in an
enraged exclamation that was almost a growl. He paused briefly, then
laughed loudly at her efforts to extricate herself from his grasp;
he allowed her to play this little game for several minutes before
she acquiesced, reluctantly, to his greater strength.
She was young, he noted, and would, indeed, have made an excellent
catch for the slave market. He, of course, had no use for gold or
baubles — he took what he wanted from passers-by who wandered onto
his territory — and he had no access to the human world; but he
pictured to himself the intrinsic value this pretty little animal
with the kitten-snarls must have in the eyes of her kind. Kalimenos
indulged his sexual pleasures with random human females who were
luckless enough to cross his path, but he was careful to release them
undamaged; and he never hunted near his home, though he kept lodges
like this one throughout the vast area surrounding his own grounds.
When he retrieved this woman from the water he had thought to take
her when she recovered, but she had lapsed into unconsciousness
almost immediately; as fierce and terrible a foe as he was, his
basic instincts insisted that he not allow any innocent being to be
harmed by his casual indifference. He carried Nysa with him here
and was beginning to be glad that he had.
Nysa had made her muscles ache anew in her struggle for release from
this horrible demon’s solid, hard arms. She relaxed when she saw
that hers was a useless fight, but he must have anticipated a greater
show from her because he refused to slacken his hold. The heavy,
musky odor was more reminiscent of men than of animals and, in close
quarters, she could see only his human half. Even his horns were
small and the thickness of his hair hid all but their tips. Nysa
searched his face for some sign that he was as human as his torso
suggested, and realized with shock that this was the face that had
haunted her dreams when she scared herself to sleep thinking about
the prophecy. The first time she saw goats mating, and knew it for
what it was, she wondered if this was how it would be done between
her and her mythical husband, or if they would adopt the half-kneeling
posture that was most common among humans (as she had heard – she had
still not had any direct experience with sex, either as a voyeur or
as a participant); she would, invariably, shake such thoughts from her
head and wish away the tingling, half-frightened feeling they brought
to her when her mind drifted in that direction ever after.
The headiness of the warmth of Kalimenos’ breath woke Nysa to that
strange, bewildering tug deep in her abdomen that had given her sleepless
nights from before she had even become a woman; here, in this odd
creature’s arms, she was amazed at her own body’s eagerness to convince
her that he couldn’t be evil, he had saved her life and hadn’t offered
to harm her…but the dizziness she felt was not caused by her hunger, or
her earlier experience in the pond. Nysa felt enveloped by his strength,
by his heat and by the softly reassuring words she heard, dully, flowing
from his lips. She had ceased her struggles more than a quarter hour
past yet they stood there still, his heart beating smoothly in her ear
and his breath weaving gently past her temple to her neck. She shuddered
when she felt him lower her, very softly, to the bed.
Kalimenos was aware, somehow, that things were not the same with this
woman as they always were with others when the game reached this stage:
she seemed, at the very least, resigned to her fate and was yielding
to him in a way that he found oddly pleasing. The flow of blood to
his penis was increasing and he felt its familiar weight swing away
from his body. He noticed that Nysa’s eyes were closed, and wondered
if she realized that he had taken off her remaining clothing before
putting her down here when they first arrived…no matter, their abscence
would only hasten the inevitable.
He closed his own eyes, for a moment, and remembered with considerable
pleasure the morning an insatiably curious woman had come looking for
him – the wonders of his sexual agility had been recounted in the public
house where she was employed and she had walked purposefully through his
domain crying out to the “servant of Bacchus” and begging humbly that he
sample her offering of wine. Oh, he *had* enjoyed that one! Kalimenos
often satisfied himself with range animals, preferring the goats whom he
resembled; but human females intrigued him, somehow, and he was very sorry
not to have kept the one who had come to him willingly. She was, however,
annoying and vacant-minded in all except the most basic passions, and
she had not come back to him.
Now a frightened and reticent female, much younger in appearance matadorbet giriş than he
might have thought when first he saw her (not that he discriminated with
regards to age, of course), and most assuredly a virgin, at least, in the
more important ways, he smiled to himself; lay panting and blinking on
the time-hardened leather cot he had made for this shelter, and Kalimenos
thought to himself that she might be well worth his efforts to initiate
her properly in the various ways to please males. They had all the time
in the world…
Nysa’s brow twitched incessantly and she kept her eyes closed, afraid of
what she might see. She was becoming exasperated with her tic, knowing
that it would betray her anxieties to the satyr and that he might try to
frighten her into submission. Thus far he had used brute strength to
serve his purpose, and Nysa didn’t want to provoke his anger; besides,
though her experience was limited to the covert surveillance of livestock
she was familiar with that part of her that interested him through her
self-exploration. It might be…interesting…to allow him access to her
body in a way she’d never dare one of her own kind, and how could she
possibly feel guilty about it if she were (obviously) forced to relinquish
herself to a monster much larger and stronger than she, a veritable son of
a god, if the prophet’s words were true?
She was afraid but Nysa had noticed Kalimenos’ gentleness with her. She
doubted that women would live to tell their tales of seduction if such a
being as this were to wish them harm, and she also doubted that she
would be harmed, even accidentally; he had made his preference that she
be whole and conscious evident. She breathed slowly, and deeply, to dispel
her fear and decided to allow him whatever he wanted. If, again, the words
of prophecy were accurate, then she would live to remain with this promised
mate. Either way, of course, she was helpless (at least for the moment)
and acquiescing would encourage him to trust her.
Nysa’s hair was tangled and still damp from her misguided attempt to
escape in the pond. His words came back to her with a rush – he would
have raped her, but he would have ensured her pleasure? Her body responded
to the possibilities behind the words by filling her with a numbed warmth
and making her limbs feel heavy with blood. She opened her eyes to see
her “mythical husband”, as she had considered him since childhood, watching
her quizically. His body now resembled a hairier version of Bacchus’, the
god whom he supposdely served. The sight of his erect penis startled Nysa
and the possibilities she had envisioned were suddenly much more a reality
than a fantasy. She gasped and blinked hard, unaware that her own body
betrayed her eager curiosity and told Kalimenos that this one was, indeed,
a very ripe fruit.
She shrank away slightly when she felt his fingers smooth her hair, then
relaxed when this non-intrusive touch was the only one he offered. She
opened her eyes slowly and was surprised when she returned Kalimenos’
smile; his mouth widened at that sign and she blushed when she realized
how much she wanted him to touch her then. Her heightened color was
quite becoming and Kalimenos decided to advance cautiously but steadily
with this very charming little prize.
“What are you called?” he asked softly as he returned to stroking her
hair.
“Nysa.” she breathed. Her eyes had, against her conscious will, traversed
his face constantly, though she was able to restrain them from looking
down between his legs.
“Nyssaaa…” he spoke, again softly, and allowed the last syllable to
trail into a smile. He knelt beside the cot and gazed intently at her
body, appraising the strength of her legs and arms and the width of her
hips. She was still fairly slender, being young; but she would develop
deeper curves as she matured. The thought surprised him and Kalimenos
began to wonder what it would be like to keep someone as a companion.
He had listened to the conversation that flowed between Nysa and her
friends before they had fallen asleep (though he was not able to discern
their relationships from it), and had decided that she would provide for
some amusing intellectual entertainment for him, a pleasure he had only
seldom. His kind were voluptuaries and sensualists but a clever mind
was a rare thing that most of them appreciated when given the opportunity.
Oh, yes – they were mostly opportunists, as well. His grin widened
further with that thought and he wondered what Nysa would think if she
could hear the words that swam through his mind constantly.
Kalimenos’ eyes closed and his nostrils flared as he caught a whiff of
her muskiness and his body reddened slightly as his desire increased.
The weight between his thighs increased and he brought his hips forward to
accomodate it. Nysa’s body began to tremble when she saw his penis, erect
and engorged, pointing toward her as though it knew she was the source of
relief it sought. She closed her eyes lightly and determined to allow
him to do as he pleased with her. He was, after all, betrothed to her
since a few days after her birth, she mused silently; and she was well
past the age when he could have demanded his bride to come to him. She
thought briefly about her Mother and hoped that she wouldn’t worry much.
The oracle had promised a long and healthy life for Nysa, after all.
A soft touch at her temple opened Nysa’s eyes and she saw Kalimenos’
angular face barely inches from her own. His eyes took in her mouth
then traveled to her hair and followed its tangled curl to the swell of
her breasts. She was a far cry from the soft women typical of her class:
she ran with her brothers as a child and was an avid climber of trees.
Her smoothly rounded muscles appealed to the satyr, and he bent lower to
run his nose the length of Nysa’s torso. His concentration was a curious
thing to behold – he smelled her skin most deeply where her natural curves
and creases created small pockets of additional warmth, and he actually
licked the underside of the breast nearest him, nuzzling as an animal in
the heat of rut. A gutteral moan grew deep in his throat and his
intensity made Nysa gasp, startled. His eyes seemed to blaze with a
fierce light and, when he lunged for her, Nysa shrank away and resisted
him with all her strength. Kalimenos sprang onto the cot, nearly upsetting
it, and pinned her limbs firmly against it; he assumed a superior position,
maneuvering between Nysa’s thighs, and settled his penis on her lower
abdomen.
He laughed at her obvious outrage and murmured low to calm her equally
obvious fear of him. He bent down until they were nose to nose, then
kissed her tenderly on her cheeks and her chin before running the tip of
his tongue along the inner edge of her bottom lip. She started, but gave
him no resistance and he continued this tactic, alternately nipping her
mouth and caressing it with his own. When he opened her teeth wide and
dipped his tongue deep into her throat she gave a strangled sigh and then
returned his kiss with a naive fervor. She arched her hips at the same
time, making him almost painfully aware of the closeness of her sweet,
warm labia that, in their engorgement, seemed to be surrounding his scrotum
and bathing his testicles with their heavy lubrication. He reveled in
the moment, certain that any false move on his part could destroy the
tenous “trust” between them, a by-product of Nysa’s instinctive response
to Kalimenos’ actions.
Nysa lay with her eyes closed, again, almost afraid to open them and
watch what was happening to her. She was highly conscious of the furred,
bristly fetlocks that brushed tantalizingly again her calves and, in
rare moments, against the soft skin of her buttocks. Her movement was
independent of her will and her thoughts turned constantly to the stock
animals she had watched mating…she was half despairing of her
situation, and half hoping that Kalimenos would turn her over, elevate
her hips and impale her on the monstrous organ that matadorbet güncel giriş pushed so insistently
against her pelvis with his every move. Her body was so eager to betray
her fantasy that her legs found themselves trying to crawl up to wrap
themselves tightly against those pelted haunches, to curl around his
back, to rub her feet sensuously the length of his tail.
At the slight indication she gave by contracting the muscles in her thighs
Kalimenos knew Nysa was physically prepared for what he was planning to
do to her. The corners of his mouth curved up appreciatively and he
lowered his mouth to one small, shy nipple to coax it out of hiding. She
gasped and arched her neck and, when she tugged her arms down, Kalimenos
released her wrists. She drew her hands immediately around his head and
neck, pulling his hot tongue and demanding lips closer to her tingling
breast. She noted with pleasure the hard feel of his head between his
tiny horns, and her right fingers curled around one as a handle to keep
his wonderful, incessantly sucking mouth exactly where it was. He
chuckled then, and brought one hand down between then to find her labia;
he teased her lips, pulling on them gently and easing a curious finger
in between her folds. Nysa began squirming furiously and her knees came
up to hug the sides of Kalimenos’ chest, her calves and ankles folding
in a curve around his waist.
He grabbed her wrists again and held them fast; he slithered down and
shrugged her feet up around his neck, then dove into the nest of hair
between Nysa’s legs. His tongue bathed her gently and he licked the
curling hair until it was wet and smooth, lapping like a cat, completely
heedless of his captive’s high-pitched cries. He sniffed her then,
her scent extremely musky/salty and her lubricating fluids flowing
thickly; and he opened her lips just enough to slide his tongue inside,
to find her clitoris and to circle it slowly and deliberately. He
took the tiny organ between his lips and began to knead it gently,
suckling as softly as he could and slipping his tongue lower from time
to time to dip into her vagina and ready it for him.
Nysa’s hips bucked violently, straining against Kalimenos’ strength,
and she was nearly incoherent with her pleasure. Her breath came in
sharp, gutteral gasps and her voice escaped as deep and heavy moans.
She went very still when his assault stopped, and opened her eyes to
look at the enormous erection he sported. He mounted her quickly
and brought the head of his penis just to the entrance of her vagina;
he looked into her eyes, then, and eased inside her gently. Nysa
gasped and jerked suddenly and Kalimenos realized that he had hit her
hymen: he withdrew a little, then kissed her hard as he penetrated her
completely. She shivered uncontrollably, clutching the hair/fur of
his chest, and she breathed in shallow gulps until her pain subsided
and she felt the pleasure once again.
“You belong to me, Nyssaaa…” he whispered as he began to thrust into
her hot, tight vagina, making sure to brush her pelvic bone with the
base of his penis to stimulate her as much as possible. He barely
knew her name, but Kalimenos was sure that keeping this human female
was the best idea he had had in a very long time. He was aware from her
response that her piercing had been a painful one, yet she was already
beginning to thrust back against him, obviously seeking her own pleasure
as she was giving the same to him. She was very wet, perhaps a mixture
of her natural lubrication and her virgin’s blood; and she was as hot
and as tight inside as any partner he could remember having. He smiled
to himself as his tempo increased, feeling her labia flare against his
testicles and seeing the look of concentration on her face as her legs
grasped him firmly and guided him ever faster inside her.
Nysa was overwhelmed with this experience, both overheated with emotion
and tender from the heavy concentration of pleasure and pain. The
former increased as the latter diminished, though, and she was sure that
Kalimenos would keep his word – she *would* enjoy this very much! She
was still a little frightened of him but his sensous nature, both human
and animal, was irresistibly appealing to her and she strove to please
him. She discovered that the underside of his tail was exquisitely
sensitive and his voice rose in a high-pitched whine when she curled
her toes behind him to stroke as much of him as she could. She raised
herself against him, meeting his thrusts, to scrape her tender buttocks
on the coarse, thick hair that covered his scortum and he responded by
deepening his pace, plunging as much of his huge, red penis inside her
as possible.
He was close to his climax and Kalimenos wanted very much to ensure his
partner’s pleasure before his own. If he could make a virgin insane
with passion, he reasoned, surely she’d remain with him. By choice.
He withdrew from her swiftly, against her protests, and turned Nysa in
one motion to lie on her stomach. He spread her legs wide, grasping
them at her kneees; and began to bathe her inner thighs with long licks
of his tongue. He pinched the full flesh of her buttocks and pulled
them apart, trailing a finger there to tantalise her tightly-clenched
anus. He draped his arms over her hips then to pull and twist her
clitoris between finger and thumb as he inched up behind her, taking care
to make her completely conscious of his fur-covered hindquarters as
they rubbed against her soft, white, slender legs. Nysa shuddered, then
backed up to him, lowering her upper torso to intensify her angle for
deeper penetration.
Kalimenos thrust himself forward with his full weight, taking Nysa by
surprise and planting him firmly and deeply within her. His right hand
felt the fullness of her abdomen, and he could imagine its firmness was
caused from the pressure his penis created inside her; and his left
hand held her genitals firmly, slamming her back against him with every
stroke and masturbating her with his thumb simultaneously. Nysa gripped
the upper corners of the cot tightly, bracing herself against the almost-
violent assault her lover had launched; she sighed low in her throat,
hoping for a fast conclusion to the unbearable heat rising within her.
Her nipples were on fire, they felt the strain of their increased blood
flow as well as the rough, harsh leather of the cot pressing them with
each movement on her part. Kalimenos inched his right hand up until he
could cup her left breast firmly, then he brought her up with him,
held firmly against his chest; his fingers tortured her nipples, alter-
nating between them, while his left hand continued to pulse against
her clitoris, spreading her labia and opening her sensitive skin to the
nearly brutal harshness of his fur. His testicles raised up slightly
and, with his penis impaling her completely, they smashed hard against
the underside of Nysa’s exposed clitoris with his every thrust. A sharp
pain drew her attention immediately to her shoulder, which the satyr, in
his furious desire for orgasm, had begun to bite with his predator’s
teeth. He ground his pelvis into her buttocks, describing circles with
the base of his penis; Nysa felt the uncontrollable conclusion he had
been building in her begin to break and she shrieked her passion, turning
her head to nibble his lips, to lick his cheek, to smell the wild smell
so like that of the rolling meadows and pastures. She rested the whole
of her weight against him, trapping his throbbing, pulsing organ deep
inside her and gushing its contents into her. His grunts and growls
dropped an octave but increased in their intensity until he bathed the
walls of her vagina and the mouth of her cervix with his hot, sticky
semen and Kalimenos grabbed her hair in mouthsful, pulling her to him
until his spasms subsided.
They collapsed on the cot together, both completely spent. Nysa’s blood
had splashed onto the leather, proof of her innocence in his eyes. He
woke, in the early dawn, and covered her sleeping form with a pelt he
carried with him when he hunted far from home; and he crept to the fire
to stoke it, briefly, before returning to lie beside his bride once more.
His curious, half-smile was still on his lips when he fell asleep.
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