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Satyrborn

Copyright (c) 1997 by Narzil Blade. re-edited September 2001 - This story may not be distributed or sold without prior permission.

Come, my fellow satyrs; bring your merriment closer to the fire! That way not only may your merriment continue, but we may all see it and, moreover, listen to the tale which I am about to tell. For the story of Fauris is one not frequently heard, which should be told more often!

Now, Fauris -- that was not his original name, but this will explain itself later -- was a human youth of Athens. There he tended the family stables and inn, which were lacking, sadly, of a drinking establishment. Fauris' parents had strong hopes that their only child, being young, would soon be married, and thus be able to have children and continue the family trade. But Fauris was (that is, by human standards), homely, and was unable to woo the women in his life for long.

It was then one late summer, when a man, richly adorned, came to the inn with four great horses, seeking shelter for himself and stables for his steeds. The parents were much excited, for not only did he require much housing, but he offered to pay in gold! So they called for Fauris to bring the man's horses to the stables while they would show the traveler to his rooms. But upon Fauris' arrival, the man stared dumbstruck at him and stood longtime in silence.

Fauris' parents looked back and forth between the two in puzzlement. They first turned their eyes to their son, who on occasion would have forgotten to wash his neck, or would sometimes wear a dirty shirt; but Fauris was clean and expressed as much confusion as they. The rich traveler, on the other hand, continued to stare with an expression of surprise, wonder, and deep thought. At last he said, "Let this lad take my prize stallion to the stables, and I shall stay here for the night. But I should ask you to be careful, for he is my best horse, who I intend to run and wager in the annual Athenian races tomorrow."

Fauris quickly began to fetch the horse, seeing the lavishness of the man's garments and his parents' expectant faces. The horse was indeed a mighty beast, black and glossy and in its prime, a fine racer. As he approached, it snorted and pounded the ground with a hoof impatiently, and so he took special care. Leading it slowly to the stables across the yard, Fauris tried to conceal his slight nervousness, and walked perhaps more self-consciously than usual.

When suddenly without provocation the horse whinnied, reared, and knocked him over, which bruised his arm and tore his shirt. As the horse ran free, his parents rushed out to herd it into an enclosure, while the traveler ran out to Fauris and lifted him to his feet with a strong hand.

"Sir," said Fauris, "Why is it your horse reared for no reason? I have hurt my arm and my shirt has become torn, and instead of helping my parents capture your steed, you simply stare at me more closely than ever."

"I do not think you are meant for stabling horses," the traveler replied, but also winked strangely; "And your clumsiness has upset my best stallion. I will not be staying at this inn tonight. Good-bye." And with that, the man collected his mounts and departed.

Needless to say, Fauris' parents were furious, and refused to hear any of Fauris' protests of innocence. They did not wish to speak with him over their supper, and by nightfall his father told him he was to no longer work the stables, but only the inn. And Fauris' heart sank, for tending the horses was something he had always enjoyed.

That night, Fauris was unable to sleep. The air was hot and humid, and he tossed and turned, sweaty on his bed, while a terrible headache rumbled through his head, like the stomping of a hundred hoofbeats. And every time he would close his eyes to rest, he would be disturbed by the loud hooting of an owl outside. Several times he rose and stood naked by the window in the full moonlight trying to spy the bird and chase it away, but always it would flutter out of sight, only to return to its branch again when he went to lay back down.

The following days and weeks were equally awkward for the young human. Rats infested the rooms of the inn, regardless of how clean they were kept. Dishes would break while he carried them, and the tenants complained of noises at night and a terrible stench during the day. Moreover, every horse that Fauris passed would rear up on its hind legs in panic, so that soon he had to stay well away from the stables, the market, and busier roads.

And so a fortnight passed, with his parents becoming increasingly distressed with the ill luck that had befallen them, and the growing lack of business. Finally, on a terribly hot day, the stench of the inn grew worse than ever, and part of the stable roof collapsed for no reason. At this, the parents called their son to them and demanded to know what he had done to bring such disorder to their home.

"I have done nothing," Fauris protested, "All this began when that rich traveler's horse attacked me."

But his parents were of another opinion. "You have done offense to the traveler and to the tradition of hospitality," they scolded him. "We can no longer have you in the house until you do penance for your misdeeds. Go to the temple, go to the Oracle if you have to, even search out the traveler himself; and rid our family of this curse that you have brought down upon us. Only then may you return here."

And so, the next morning Fauris left his family home, confused and angry, and walked into the bustling streets of Athens. But because his temple was placed at the far end of the city, and because Fauris could not take the main roads for fear of rioting the many horses and carriages along his way, he was forced to take a long, circuitous path through narrower, dirtier streets, skirting around the edge of the city.

It was by that time noon, and he had only gone halfway to his temple, when he stopped in a small enclosed marketplace to eat and rest. As he sat on a bench in the shade and ate, Fauris suddenly felt the grip of a strong hand on his shoulder. Turning his head, he was surprised to find it came from a blind, aged man, wrinkled and bent, who did not look strong at all.

"Pardon me, citizen," said the man, "Could you spare a coin for an aged seer?"

"I am sorry," replied Fauris, who was not overly sympathetic to beggars, "But I am in a hurry."

"Yes, you are in a hurry to your temple where you seek to cure yourself of your great misfortunes," said the old man. "This I sense."

To this, Fauris blinked and quickly adopted more reverence for the old man, having heard that the blind sometimes see more than normal men. "Please sir, what would you know of my troubles, from whence they come, and what I might do to cure them?"

The seer took Fauris' hand and searched it with his touch. "You have worked in a stable, and you are young. But you tremble, because unwelcome events have befallen you which you cannot explain nor control." Fauris sat still as the old man concentrated, and it felt as if cold fingers were reaching into his very soul.

"You have been cursed," the seer continued, "For reasons I cannot fathom, by one of the Gods. The Great Lord Pan. He who rules over the rites of mystery for adult men, and god of horses, satyrs, forests, fields, and shepherds, and of drunken revelry and joyous living, it is he who has cursed you. It is to him you must go to find the answers you seek. Go not to your chosen temple. Seek instead the temple of Pan, not far from this place. This I see you must do."

Fauris thanked the seer and asked what more he knew, but the old man could say no more. Fauris placed a few coins in the old man's palm, and the seer gave to him directions to the temple, and then hobbled away until Fauris could no longer see him in the crowd. Then finishing his meal, he rose to go to the temple, reasoning that if the visit proved unsuccessful, he could yet go visit his regular temple. Fauris was not accustomed to visiting the altar of a specific god, as his own temple was a general one dedicated to all the gods.

He found the temple not far from the marketplace as the seer had said. Ascending its great staircase, he observed that the temple stone was of a dark marble, with an otherworldly air quite unlike the surrounding buildings. Fauris was both nervous and curious, for as a boy he had often admired the strange rites of mystery that were part of the cult of Pan in Athens.

Now Pan is the lord of us satyrs; of nature and the forests, of both their beauty and danger. He is the patron of shepherds and their flocks, and of all creatures with hooves. Lastly, he personifies the joys of wine, of frolicking and revelry, especially of males. And it was passionate scenes of all this which decorated the long, columned corridor leading deep into the temple, etched into the dark stone.

And Fauris, being the young and budding human that he was, could not help but be slightly aroused by the sensuous depictions on the walls about him. At first he was embarrassed at himself, but then remembering the annual processions of the cult through the streets of Athens, realized that such display was not unexpected nor unwelcome within the House of Pan.

It was then he reached the end of the temple corridor, to where it became darkest and the smells were damp and earthy. A black marble altar glittered like stars in the faint torchlight, covered with furskins and ivy wreaths. But what truly caught the human's attention were the four statues to each side.

Here were the statues of the four Great Equids, upright with thickly muscled human arms, hands and torso, but in all other respects retaining their equestrian forms, and each sporting a gloriously virile erection, polished to reflect the light and appear wet, shiny, and ready.

Here was the Minotaur, strong, stocky and bestial, carved of black obsidian to the very tips of his long black horns, bovine muzzle snarled in a stern leer, his great bullcock the mightiest of all, long and thick between his legs. And here was the Pegasus, winged and regal, of pink granite and poised to fly, offering an unparalleled view of his streamlined attributes with which to lift his mate into the skies with him.

And here too was the fierce unicorn in white marble, noble and lean, the essence of nature in graceful athleticness. Its head bowed to point its great spiraling horn at the viewer, it stood poised to usher virgins into its sensuous realm. And lastly was the satyr, sculpted in deep red jasper. Reclining against a treestump, its powerful goatlegs apart in relaxation, the satyr's hand held aloft its proud erection, reaching out with its other hand to take the hand of the viewer.

Fauris stopped in front of the satyr sculpture and stared, as if Zeus' lightning bolt had struck him dead. There was something captivating about the statue for the human which he could not explain. His mind was a muddle of thoughts. Here, a human male, who had lain with females of his kind, suddenly found himself in great admiration of all these four statues. His mouth damp, he took a step towards the satyr statue, drawn by its strange inviting and lustful gaze. But then Fauris heard a voice behind him. "Greetings, follower." He turned to see the temple priest, a tall man with a beard, shrouded in a long leaf-green cloak. "Have you come to do service to your Lord Pan?"

To this Fauris replied, "Truthfully, I am not a follower of Great Pan, yet my woes have taken me to his house."

"Perhaps you do not follow Pan in name, but in spirit," the priest replied, reaching down and touching Fauris with his palm where the human's erection pressed against the fabric of his breeches. "For only those with Pan in their hearts react so upon seeing the holy statues. Be at peace and at leisure here. What ails you so?"

Fauris explained his story to the priest in detail, from beginning to end. Hearing this, the priest nodded gravely and stood in thought. At last he stroked his beard and seemed to be trying to hold back a light smile. "If your story is true, it must be you that our oracle foretold us of. The oracle often speaks in riddles, but it clearly spoke of your situation and the mystery of your curse. If you have indeed offended Pan so strongly, there is little recourse."

"What must I do?" asked Fauris.

"You must travel to Pan's sacred grounds, the wild forests of wooded Arcadia, and there be taught the tradition of hospitality which you failed to provide." The priest paused. "But our oracle suggested that such a journey would be more than that, of your life undergoing a great and wondrous change, of knowing what it was to have the essence of Pan within yourself."

Fauris was surprised. He did not understand why he would have to make such a great journey for a law he was not sure he had transgressed, for a god he had little contact with. "Is it so necessary? What did the oracle mean?"

"I cannot say. Perhaps I am not meant to say." The priest inspected the human's face carefully. "But I sense something of the Great Pan in you. You say you are not a follower, but perhaps you have yet to learn. Will you undertake this journey?"

"Yes," said Fauris, "For only then may I hope to understand that which has befallen me."

The priest nodded and walked behind a curtain, returning in short time with a parchment and a large flask. "These I may give to you for your journey," the priest explained. "This map to bring you to the edge of the Arcadian forests, and this drinking flask."

Fauris, curious, began to undo the flask's stopper. "Nay, do not open it yet," the priest warned him. Fauris halted. "That flask contains some of this temple's precious holy water. Spill not a drop; touch not a drop until you reach the forests of Arcadia. Only then may you begin to drink it, for it will show you to be a visitor to the woods, not a woodcutter or a poacher. Go swiftly now, begin your journey when the next sun rises." The priest reached down, blessing Fauris' erection with a strong hand. "Let the Great Pan be with you."

The priest escorted Fauris to the entrance of the temple, and bid him good travels. As Fauris descended the temple steps, he turned to look back, but the priest's green cloak had already vanished into the darkness of the corridor. He could not shake the thought that he had heard the sound of hooves walking on marble.

Fauris hurried home, to the surprise of his parents, as the sun was setting. He explained to them the journey he would have to undertake, and they agreed sadly, wishing there was some easier way, since the oracle had not said how long the journey would last, if Fauris even survived at all. But what confused them was Fauris' description of the temple, for Fauris' mother had been in its area a week earlier, and had thought it to be a ruin.

And so Fauris' parents fretted over him and gave him all sorts of supplies and advice on what roads to take and what sort of people to avoid at inns and alehouses along the way. Fauris knew they meant well, but opted to only take a few possessions with him for his journey; and the following morning he set out as the sun rose pink above the horizon.

Fauris' journey was a long one, for Arcadia is much removed from the well-populated areas of Greece, and is a great distance from Athens. Still, Fauris was an unassuming human in appearance (to other humans), and being of a friendly disposition, did not meet with any disreputable characters along his way.

In fact, Fauris' health became much improved in the country air, his body becoming firm and lean with all the walking outdoors, and living on a light diet. Walking was all the human could do, since no horses would carry him, although birds would occasionally fly with him, high in the sky. And so as summer became fall, and the leaves began to turn their color while the weather remained warm, the human came to the edges of the great forests of Arcadia.

Fauris then opened the flask which had been given to him and tested the water with his finger, which to his surprise became mildly numb. Drinking a sip, a strange sensation ran through his body. Part of the water's taste was sweet and gave him a comfortably warm tingle, but another part of its taste was dark and chill, and cast a fog upon his thoughts.

The human felt a great need to enter the forest, and now his sense of smell became heightened, for the Arcadian forest had that same, earthy smell he had sensed in the temple. Fauris drank slowly as he embarked into the woods. The sun was shining, but there was no wind, and no animals rustled the leaves.

As Fauris walked on and continued to drink, his mind became hazy. He could not remember what temple he had encountered the smell in, and after more walking, he could not remember the temple, only that the smell was familiar. Time seemed to slow. Fauris drank more, and could not recall where he was from, or where he was... only that it was important to go on. His path through the forest began to meander as he lost all sense of bearing.

The sun shone too brightly through the trees... Fauris began to sweat, his limbs feeling heavy, tired, and hot. He drew off his shirt and left it on a tree branch, and then forgot he had done so, walking onwards and drinking more from his flask, which was almost empty. It was so terribly hot...

The sweet taste of the water sent chills through him, tickling his senses, making him sensitive and aroused. His penis hardened quickly under his clothing, humming with energy as his mind buzzed with the sound of a hundred bees. It was so hot... Fauris removed all of his clothing, letting his erection spring free from the painful prison of his clothes. His body sweated heavily as he abandoned all of his belongings except for his flask, as he stumbled deeper into the Arcadian woods.

Fauris slumped as he walked. He emptied the flask and carried it limply in his hand. All his limbs, his head, his bones, his feet, felt so incredibly hot and heavy. Where was he? Why was he here? Who was he? The human had by now even forgotten his name. His body ached for rest, and his penis ached for release. At last, the human could take no more, and lay down on the grass to rest. He wrapped his hand around his erection. At the same time, his eyes closed, and Fauris drifted into a deep, eternal sleep.

* * * * *

Now, my fellow satyrs, delay your fornication for a while and listen, for this is where our kind enters the story! As you know, Arcadia's woods have always been the home of many satyr bands, for it is there that Pan rules, and satyrs will not often be bothered by outsiders.

A small group of satyrs, perhaps five in number, were gathered not far inside the edge of the forest, waiting for three of their brethren to return from an excursion to a local human settlement, where they were not adverse to their presence nor their commerce. When the three satyrs arrived, they said they had been perplexed by the smell of a human along their path, something quite unusual. And so the eight went to investigate, following the scent until they came upon where the slumbering human lay.

You see, a human in the Arcadian woods was almost unheard of, for the forest itself kept most away. Not only that, but this human was completely unclothed, and terribly, terribly thin. The satyrs did not know he had fallen asleep two days before, and was slowly starving. Had they known, they would have been further perplexed that no wild animal had eaten him, nor had any insect bitten him.

Nor could they awake the human. They shook him, pinched, and poked; they yelled out the great terrifying shout for which satyrs are well-known, which makes their enemies flee in panic; they tried to arouse and titillate the human's flaccid penis; they even tried holding his nose and mouth shut -- but all to no avail. The human slept too deeply.

One of the satyrs discovered the flask, which had rolled out of the human's limp hands and under a bush. Opening it (in the hopes of finding wine, of course), the smell of the empty flask intrigued him. "Here is the cause of his rest," the satyr said. "I smell magic here. There is something of a satyr to the odor, and yet there is something else, dark and indistinct."

The satyrs debated what to do -- leave the human alone, and hope his sleep would end soon; or carry him to the nearby human village, which could be his home; or bring him with them and seek the wisdom of the rest of the satyr band.

It was this last decision they settled upon. Humans are not as knowledgeable of the Gods and their magics, and they sensed some purpose to the human's presence, because the forest had accepted him. Neither could they leave the human to starve. But more so, they were fascinated by this human's beauty. While humans would not have considered him too comely, in the eyes of the satyrs, the human's entire form was lithe, shapely, and suggestive. And so they strung a cloth between two poles and carefully bore him with them.

It was not long before they reached the home of their band, a large glen with a wide clearing, where the tree branches leaned over to form a natural roof. In the center was a great bonfire, around which the satyrs partook of their daily passion and lived their lives. And when the small group returned bearing the human with them, there were cries of excitement and surprise, hooves clattering as the entire band came to see the unusual prize.

"What is it? Whose lover is he? How much wine did it take to make him pass out? He's sexy, can we keep him? Let us in on the prank you're going to do on him!" were some of the cries from the enthusiastic satyrs. Most of them thought the ones who had gone to the village had gotten a human drunk, and then had kidnapped him for a mischievous trick.

Other satyrs had not seen a human for some time, and were very curious, their phalli pulsing as they beheld him. "Is this typical for a human?" asked one. "No wonder you enjoy visiting them -- you did not tell us they were so sensuous in the village!"

"Nay, nay," replied one of the satyrs who had carried him. "Human males are not often handsome, this one is the exception to the rule. It is sad he is not erect, like us. And we did not make him drunk," he said to the chiding remarks from the others around him. "We found him resting within the border of the forest. He has been enchanted into a sleep, and we feared for his health. We seek the wisdom of the band."

One of the more forward satyrs examined the human closely, crouching to sniff at the human's bare genitals, and rubbing them experimentally with his hand, trying to arouse him. "He is not well, and is much too frail, even for a human. Will he not wake?"

"Nay, we tried that," the other satyr explained. "We think he drank an enchanted potion. We thought it best to bring him here rather than the human settlement, because the forest has accepted him. How can we wake him?"

Two of the elder satyrs examined the empty flask, but neither of them could identify what it once held. "But there is no doubt this is the source of his enchantment," one said. "We can try what spells we know, but some will take much time to prepare for casting. Let us keep him four days -- if we fail, let us return him to the humans."

"Only four days!" many of the satyrs complained, who were looking forward to cavorting with the human. "Still, we can make the best of it," one of them said, "Let us make him a bed!" They carried the human not too far from the fire by a tree, laying him down on a soft bed of heather.

"Hold, hold!" the elder satyr warned. "Much as it pains me to say, I must ask everyone not to molest this human." The other satyrs cried out in immediate dismay. "Humans are fragile, and should one of us work ourselves into an ecstasy, I would fear for the human's health. If we are to be his healers, let us err on the side of caution," he explained. "And while we would sometimes start to molest a sleeping human, that would be enough to wake them, to either refuse our advances or enjoy them. This human cannot even do that."

Many of the satyrs protested, but understood their elder's reasoning. It was already late in the day, and the satyrs settled into their usual activities. Some of the elder satyrs spent their time casting light spells over the human -- dispellings, removals of curses and geases, but none seemed to work. And so they gave up for the day, and went to sleep.

* * * * *

The next morning a new problem presented itself: the sleeping human would neither eat nor drink. At first, this did not worry the satyrs. Not being familiar with humans, they thought it was only a matter of placing the human in the correct position.

They quickly abandoned the idea of the human eating, for no one eats while they sleep; chewing and swallowing are too difficult. The satyrs instead worked on bringing the human to drink. Trying water at first, merely pouring it into the human's mouth failed. He would not swallow, and would begin to choke, but still this did not wake him.

They tried sitting the human up. They tried him standing, with a satyr pressed against him on each side to keep him upright. They tried tilting his head back. They tried lifting and lowering his arms like a pump. But nothing would work. One of the cleverer satyrs proposed that the human's enchantment permitted him only to drink from the flask with which he had been found, but this too failed.

And then the satyrs began to worry. For the more advanced spells which the elder satyrs had prepared overnight failed to work as well. Nothing they tried would make any difference to the human's sleep. Even worse, when an augury was attempted, the spirits would not tell them their riddles -- something about the enchantment bade them to remain silent. The day passed with no success, and the human looked thinner than ever. And while the satyrs enjoyed the sight of the human's lithe form, they were sure it was not healthy, yet they despaired of a cure.

There were other attempts to wake him, of course. More poking and prodding, pouring cold water over him, even taking burning sticks from the fire and having the human inhale the smoke. Of course, some of the satyrs could not resist fondling the human's genitals. The elder satyrs protested at first, but then thought no harm could come of it if it went no further. But sadly, the human did not respond even to this.

Now, it was one of the satyrs, Neirus, who that evening had gotten drunk with his fellow satyrs on the strong wine they had made. It had gotten quite late, and most of the elders had gone to sleep after the dancing, and the drunken satyrs raised their flagons to the sleeping human.

"Oh, Fates!" they cried out. "To tempt us with such a beautiful being, that we cannot fornicate with nor even excite with our combined talents! To a cure!" To which they raised their flagons. "Here," said one. "Could it be that perhaps the problem lies in what the human will drink, rather than with the action of drinking?" His fellows, being drunk, did not understand. The satyr re-explained with a smirk. "Mayhap the human would drink wine rather than water?"

This, the satyrs understood. And, satyrs being great pranksters, thought it would be fun to try (regardless of the drunken unwisdom of the idea). Of course, it did not work, and the satyrs went to sleep, hoping the next day their luck would change.

But Neirus was struck with a different drunken idea. If the human would not take water nor wine, would he take a satyr's seed? Neirus waited until all his companions were asleep, while stroking his erection. Without a doubt, most of the satyrs in the band had wished they could get the human to join in their revelries, as the human was so very handsome and appealing. Neirus was drunk and horny, and satyrs will be satyrs, and so he did not mind breaking the elder satyr's advice.

Neirus approached the sleeping human, holding his throbbing cock in his hand. Kneeling down over the human's naked form, he could not stop but to admire the human's smooth, paling skin in the moonlight, and the fair musculature of his build. Gently, he placed the warm tip of his phallus to the human's lips, and guided his cocktip into the human's mouth.

Neirus stroked his phallus carefully -- oh so carefully -- inside the human's mouth. He looked all around hoping that none of the elders would wake and see him. But he was more startled still when the human's face relaxed, and the soft touch of a tongue brushed against his cocktip. Could it be? Indeed, yes -- the human had accepted him, and had rested his satyrhood upon his tongue, quietly suckling. Neirus smiled at the sensation and rocked his shaft against the human's tongue, watching the human's expression become calm and peaceful. Soon, Neirus ached for release, and with a stomp of his hooves shot his seed deep into the human's mouth. And to his delight, the human swallowed it.

He rested a moment inside the human, thinking he would move on, but was amazed to find the human again licking at him with his tongue. Neirus was more than happy to oblige, indeed, several times; the human showed no end of hunger. Still, he did not awake. At last Neirus pulled away, needing to sleep. The human could wait until morning.

* * * * *

Neirus awoke early, before the others, and fetched the elders (after making sure the human was still hungry). The elders were at first dismayed at Neirus having broken their rule, but were pleased with the result, for now the human would not starve -- and better yet, the satyrs could pleasure themselves with him.

The elders immediately called a council once everyone had risen. Neirus explained the human's willingness to drink satyr seed, but yet would not awake. While this was a step forward, what could they do to wake him?

"Hmmm." One of the eldest satyrs in the group stepped forward, his larger body moving with the calm of age on his tarnished hooves. "Human magic is different from satyr magic. It might be that is why our satyr magic has failed to work upon him. But perhaps," he paused, stroking his ever-rigid cock with one hand, and his short beard with the other, "Perhaps that difference might be his cure."

The great satyr came closer, picking up the thin, sleeping human and cradling him in his strong arms, cupping one hand around the human's balls. "Perhaps if we made him one of us, the human magic would cease to work, because he would no longer be human, but a satyr. I think this would be our only choice, lest he starve to death. Already his body senses that which it needs to be cured. We must feed him our essence to bring him back to health."

Fellow satyrs, keep in mind that had the human been awake, he would not have understood that which the satyr had proposed, for humans know nothing of how satyrs came to be. The first satyrs of all were Pan's offspring from his numerous couplings with nymphs, which still happens on occasion. It was these satyrs who gave us our lust for mating and fertility.

When Pan became a God, and the first forests were consecrated to him, Mother Earth bore him new satyrs for his sons and followers, and it was these who brought us our pact with the Earth, to be the guardians of the wildness and beauty of Nature.

Then came the time when humans and satyrs met. Men gave us music, language and song, raising us from our origins as mythical beasts. In turn we gave them wine and its mindless ecstasy, agriculture, and carnal knowledge they had never dreamed of. And so we brought them Great Pan, and for those who first bowed down and worshipped him, he gave them bodies and genitals like horses so they could join their brother satyrs in their revelry, and these were the first sileni.

And what most humans have not known is that since then, any male human, if he be a true follower of Pan in his heart, may become a satyr or a sileni if he lives as one of them. This is the origin of most satyrs to this day; for although we are immortal, we can be killed, and few unclaimed forests remain to be consecrated. Those of the first generations are almost gone now, and so we take willing humans into our midst.

It was this that the elder satyr proposed, for as a full satyr, the human magic would cease to function and he would awake. But one of the horse-legged sileni, almost as large as the elder, spoke out. "I would prefer the human be half-satyr; surely this too would counter the magic. Once he awakes, he could tell us how he came to be in our forests -- and if he wished to return home. Verily, he might have come here by false design or mishap." The sileni, you see, had once been a human, a Spartan soldier, who could still remember and understand some human needs.

"Very well," said the elder satyr. "We shall keep the human his four days as planned, feed him and make him as us, but not fully. He shall become a faun. At the end, when we are sure he is healthy, he will decide whether he wishes to return to the humans or stay." The satyr secretly hoped, as did many of the others, that the human would wish to stay, for they could imagine how wondrous he would look with goat's legs and a firm penis.

* * * * *

And so the human's second day with the satyrs began with being rested up against a rock. One satyr would hold the human steady as another stood over him, stroking his phallus inside of the human's mouth, the human suckling and swallowing the satyr cum all the while.

This went on the whole morning, one satyr after another gently slipping between the human's hungry lips. Satyrs can climax at will, of course; some would do so almost at once (since their purpose was to feed the human), others would stroke against the human's tongue for some time before giving their gift to him -- these were the more romantically inclined satyrs who were anxious to make love for the first time with a human, even waiting in line to do so. Other satyrs stayed well away, yet yearned to join, for they were the more prone to be swept away by their senses and possibly hurt the human in the process.

Neirus himself had become quite fond of the human and was always close-by, watching the slumbering human's form while stroking his satyr cock, dreaming soft fantasies. Again and again Neirus rose to let the human suckle at his shaft, while he released stream after stream of his seed into the human's warm mouth, watching proudly as the human swallowed it.

As the morning closed and the sun rose high in the sky, already the satyrs could see the changes happening within the human. His skin had lost its pallor of starvation and was beginning to darken to an outdoor tan, reminiscent of the trees and fields. His ears narrowed, becoming sylvan, losing their human roundness, the eartips becoming pointed, full of mischief.

The human's body was returning to health. Us satyrs survive a good deal on drinking each others' essence, so imagine its effect on a starving human male! His body quickly absorbed it, adding strength to his bones, his muscles firming with growing promise and virility. His very flesh smelled of satyr.

Now, normally humans are not so easily changed by satyrs, it would take weeks. But this human was so badly starved it quickly adopted the form it needed to survive -- slowly changing him into one of us. And the changes were aided by the sheer amount of seed the human suckled from the waiting phalli of dozens of satyrs. The satyrs so wanted to help, for the human was so beautiful, and as his masculine body firmed, it filled all satyrs who beheld him with lust, with its graceful, erotic form.

Within Fauris' body, his renewed strength was causing his senses to finally return. Dreams emerged from where before there had been nothing but a slumbering void. The human dreamt of food and drinking, of flagons with water so sweet, that never ceased to pour. The water changed to a rich, white wine, pouring into him faster than he could drink it.

He dreamt of the wine splashing across his tongue, running down his throat and spreading into his body like flames, tingling and warm, adding to his strength. It worried him, for although it was good, he could not drink fast enough; the liquid never stopped flowing, yet his thirst was never sated.

The human imagined taking the flagon into his mouth, that it might forever pour into him. And as the hours passed, and as the satyrs gave the human their seed, the human's dreams began to change. The flagon slowly changed into an erection, the wine into sweet, succulent semen. The human could not remember his past, and so the only thing he could ever remember doing was taking a warm cock into his mouth. The sensation of a firm, pulsating shaft, pushing forward and parting his lips, over and over again, ejaculating endlessly; while another waiting phallus splashed its thick, hot cum against his face and chest. And slowly the human awoke.

Neirus had by this time been taking care of the human well past noon. Shaded from the others by trees, he explored the human's body with his hands, feeling the growth of his hardening muscles, brushing his palm over the rounded chest and the well-developed abdominals, to the human's groin. But no matter how tenderly Neirus touched the human's penis and testicles, he would get no reaction. Neirus ran his fingers delicately around the edge of the human's pointed ears, watching his face. It was so very calm, and he thought he could see the beginning of a lecherous, satyr-like smile.

He gently kissed the human, tasting the seed of so many satyrs on the human's lips, and nuzzled the human's nose softly, which had begun to darken nicely. Sighing, Neirus stood and returned his cock to the human's mouth, stroking it slowly, his mind elsewhere. "Of the few humans I have ever met," Neirus whispered to himself, "The one I lust for is beyond my reach."

And as Neirus closed his eyes and let his cock pulse inside the human as he prepared to come, the human awoke. Dreamily, he watched as a thick, throbbing satyr cock pushed its tip between his lips and slid into his mouth, filling it. Before him were thick, goatish legs covered with dark fur. The smell of moist crotchfur pervaded his nose, which was becoming sensitive like a satyr's. The human was amazed at the lust he smelled, and how strangely attractive it was, especially with the sight of the heavy, furred testicles hanging down from a bulging sheath. The human's own penis began to become rigid.

Automatically, the human's tongue wrapped around the thick cocktip, tasting satyr seed for the first conscious time. It defied description, filling his mind with images of mating animals, hot summer winds, sensuous music, and dizziness. The human's cock quickly stood at attention. As Neirus' shaft stopped its push inwards, the human became further aroused and suckled at it, as he had been doing in his dreams, lifting his hands to touch the satyr's thighs.

Neirus gasped in surprise as he felt fingers against his fur, and at that moment, he ejaculated into the human's mouth. The human moaned, caught off guard as a thick stream of cum spilled into his mouth, which he had to quickly swallow. His body buzzed with energy as he felt the warm liquid enter his being, and all of his lethargy disappeared.

"You're awake, you're awake!" Neirus cried triumphantly, almost unable to believe it. He quickly drew his cock, still spurting, out of the human's mouth, finishing his climax on the human's chest. And lo, the human was erect! "You're healed! Praise Pan!"

The human stared awestruck at what he saw as a goat-legged human before him. "w-Who are you? ...What are you? Where am I?" he asked nervously.

"I am called Neirus, and I am a satyr! And you are in the Arcadian forests, the holy forests of Pan, with the rest of my satyr band. Be welcome, human! We thought you would never recover from your enchanted sleep. What do you call yourself?"

"I..." the human paused, his mind foggy. "I can't remember my name... I don't know who I am. I don't remember anything... it's all gone!" The human began to panic, glancing up at the trees.

Neirus comforted him. "Do not be afraid... we found you in the forest, cursed to sleep, and starving. We brought you to our home in the forest to help you heal, although now it seems the magic sleep has also erased your memory. Can you remember nothing?"

"I remember sleeping... I know Pan's name, and have heard of Arcadia. I feel so lost... Where are my clothes?"

"You were bare when we found you. It would be a shame to put clothes on a human such as you. But why do you stare at me so?" Neirus was flattered, as the human was staring wide-eyed between his legs.

The human swallowed. "I dimly recall tales of the satyrs... but I am a human. What we were doing when I awoke... among my kind we do not normally do such things..."

Neirus knelt beside the human, placing an arm around his shivering shoulders, and rubbing the human's semen-covered chest with his hand. "But did you not like it? I can see that my touch arouses you, and this makes me glad. And what are human customs when you are with satyrs? You, too, can be like us." The human found the satyr's touch strangely exhilarating.

"It... that felt good, what we were doing. Part of me tells me it is strange, yet another part of me tells me otherwise. Indeed, in my dreams, it was all I ever wanted to do..." He reached up, feeling his pointed ears. "What... is... happening to me?"

"You are turning into a satyr," Neirus smiled calmingly. "A virile, handsome satyr. Imagine yourself with strong, hooved, animal legs, equipped well. When we first saw you, we could not believe so handsome a human could exist, a satyr body born into a human form, perhaps." He took the human's limp hand and placed it to his erection. "You can hold me, if you'd like." The human did not resist Neirus, but remained nervous. "Did you enjoy how you awoke?" Neirus asked. "I enjoyed waking you. I know the ways of our people are different from yours. And yet this was the only way we could find to break your human curse... by turning you into a half-satyr, the human magic would cease to work. Almost all of the satyrs here have given you part of themselves to make you closer to us. You looked so beautiful, I think I have given you more than all the others combined. Will you not meet the others?"

"The... the others?"

"The others," Neirus replied, helping the human to his feet. "Come."

Neirus carefully led the human out from behind the bushes and called out to everyone. Like the human's first arrival, he was quickly surrounded by the entire band of curious satyrs, each eager to greet him.

Consider for a moment what the human saw before him: several dozen satyrs, human from the waist up, but with white horns upon their foreheads, ears like animals, and dark, bestial noses on their faces. From the waist down, some were like goats, others like horses, with cloven hooves. And each one with a long, prodigious erection, standing proudly erect above full testicles.

The human could dimly remember human legends about satyrs, of which they know very little. There are dozens of myths about satyrs emerging violent from the wild and throwing themselves upon an unsuspecting shepherd... I suspect such events must have indeed happened, the satyr being drunk with wine. But so it is that humans know almost nothing of our true nature. I have heard tales of entire satyr bands descending upon human villages to take all the able-bodied males and make them become satyrs -- a ridiculous claim -- so our reputation will most likely always be tarnished.

Now, this human was very confused. Even with most of his memory gone, he could dimly remember the teachings of his human world. All their strange rules about permitted sex, courtship, and the like, were conflicting with the new-found urges caused by the changes taking place within his body. Already, his normal body temperature had risen, and his heart had become stronger and faster. His chest hair had begun to thicken where Neirus had rubbed in his seed. All the human's senses were changing, from the pores of his skin, to the glitter in his eyes, to the sharpness of his nose, to his new sense of touch. All these were now becoming changed to register with pleasure in his mind.

"Be welcome, human!" one of the elder satyrs greeted, coming forward and hugging the human close, feeling between his legs in the proper satyr fashion. "We feared that your ailment would make your sleep never end!"

"But I am not cured," said the human. "I cannot recall my own past. I should like to go home, yet where this is, I know not. I cannot even remember my own name."

"Hrm," the satyr replied, "This is unexpected. Before you awoke, our band decided to guard you for four days, to return you to health. Today is the second day; you have recovered quickly!"

The human blushed and addressed the band. "I should like to thank you all -- for saving my life. I wish I could remember how it was I got here. I shall return to my own kind to try to find my past; I hope someday I may repay you for your kindness and effort."

The elder looked at the human with some worry, seeing his skin redden. "But you are not yet well! Awakened, yes, but still frail... at least, by satyr standards. If you wish to repay us, I beseech you -- do so now. Let us offer you our hospitality for the days we set aside for you. Be among us, that humans may learn more of us. Can your past not wait so short a time?"

"Well, I..." The human paused. He did owe the satyrs for his rescue, even though their customs made him feel both aroused and confused. But then part of his missing memory jogged him. A voice had been telling him to travel to wooded Arcadia, and there find hospitality... was part of his missing past here? "...I accept your generous offer. I shall complete my four days!"

Several satyrs cheered at this (others whistled, and some leered). The elder's smile was only out-done by Neirus', to his side. "So be it! For this time, Neirus shall look after you -- he has become quite fond of you, and has done no harm. Perhaps, with our help, you will be able to recall your past once more, as we heal you further, and return you to strength. Are you aware that you are becoming as one of us?"

"Yes, Neirus began to explain it to me," the human replied, if a bit nervously. "I understand it is a necessity. It feels..." he inhaled, trying to voice his thoughts, drawing his fingers across his chest, while his flaccid penis hardened slightly. "...It feels wondrous but strange. Among humans, most men do not act... sensual with other men. It is not unheard of, of course, but not common."

The elder satyr let out a hearty, friendly laugh. "You are too formal! Human, be at ease while you are with us. Do not feel you must act like a human around us, let your full passions emerge. Know what it is to be male, wild, fertile, virile. You have satyr in your blood, human, let it come out! While with satyrs, let yourself be as a satyr. We shall give you a name, human. 'Fauris', The Secret One. You are a being full of mysteries -- explore them." He turned to face the band. "Brothers, come; we shall all greet our new guest and show him our way of life."

And so, one by one, the satyrs came forward to meet the human, now named Fauris. Like the elder had done, each satyr -- sometimes two at once -- took Fauris into his arms, feeling between the human's legs, groping, stroking with their fingers, as was their custom when greeting. Fauris' crotch hair had already become much longer, darker and denser, thanks to the slowly flowering satyr seed inside him. His chest and stomach hair, too, continued to thicken, as some satyrs lightly ejaculated upon him as they hugged.

Fauris' erection remained firm this whole time. If it began to soften, it was not long before the touch of the next satyr brought it back to hardness. Soon, Fauris began to grope in return, following the examples of his hosts. His hands were not accustomed to doing so, but the satyrs smiled, appreciative of him trying to fit in. But because every satyr was erect already, he found it difficult to judge his success.

Each satyr was slightly different. All were tall and attractive, yet each one had a distinct scent, which boiled Fauris' blood, his heart beating rapidly. The satyrs stood upon huge, bulky goat's legs, thick in the thigh and hindquarters, standing on stocky ankles and hooves. Above their waist, their fur abruptly ended, although animal vestiges remained -- curly, almost furry body hair, and their fey, sylvan faces. Some were mildly fat in the torso, while others were muscled like iron, but all were broad in their build, chest and shoulders, with strong arms and large, warm dexterous hands.

Fauris was intrigued by the many genitals he felt as they were pressed against him, one by one. Each satyr, without fail, was unabashedly erect, larger than his own which seemed disappointing in comparison. Some cocks stood straight and smooth, others curved upwards, thickly veined, and some were more like the shaft of a stallion than a human. Each one emerged from a bulging furry sheath between the legs, below which hung full testicles. After the parade of display neared its end, Fauris detected some familiarity with the last sheath he clutched.

It was Neirus. "Come, my friend," he said as he led Fauris back to his side-glade. "Let us sit, talk, and play." He guided the human away with his arm around him low. Fauris sat on the grass leaning against a tree, gently touching Neirus' balls as the satyr stood before him.

"How did you like meeting the band?" Neirus asked, curious as to how the human now felt. He was patient for the answer, as Fauris' fingers felt into his crotch for the hardness of his sheath.

"It was good, I'd never felt so..." Fauris blushed. Neirus thought he saw a difficult expression cross the human's face. "Some of the satyrs I met," Fauris began again, "The taller and stockier ones. Their fur is different from yours. Yours is browner and curly, theirs was more gray and straight."

"Ahh," Neirus said, smiling. The human's fingers trailed along his erection, eyes glued to it. "Those are the sileni among us. Satyrs and sileni, we are one of the same kind; the sileni are a little more horse-ish than the rest of us." Neirus lightly ejaculated onto Fauris' face, who did not seem to notice, so entranced was he. Neirus touched his cocktip to the human's lips, which gently opened and took him within. Drink, my friend, thought Neirus.

Fauris curled his tongue around Neirus' cock, tasting his delicious semen, a taste which seemed different each time he experienced it, and always improving. He thirsted for it, and suckled hungrily as he had in his dreams, putting his hands to Neirus' heavy balls to urge him of his thirst. All he could feel was Neirus' thick shaft slipping back and forth inside of his mouth, pulsing, pressing deeper, but not relinquishing its seed. Neirus sighed happily. He put his hands around the back of Fauris' head, pulling him forward into his crotch. Already the human was becoming quite satyr-like, and he could feel that the inside of the human's mouth had begun to change too. Neirus had never been able to push himself in so far before, in comparison to when Fauris had been sleeping.

As Neirus stroked more rapidly, the human relaxed under him, sucking at his cock his sole action, while Neirus did all the thrusting. Neirus took a step back, pulling Fauris forward into a lean, tilting his head up. And with one firm push, he slipped his cock into the human's throat.

Fauris gasped, or expected to, but found that something about his breathing had changed -- his throat bulged with Neirus' virile satyrhood, and each time it slipped in and out of the back of his mouth he felt a strange tingle of pleasure jolt through him. Below, Fauris felt his own erection ache for release. He made desperate swallowing motions, unable to speak.

Neirus began to grunt, mounting the human's mouth, pushing Fauris' head onto himself. With growing pleasure he could feel the tightness of the human, and the swallowing sensations tugging at him. With a welcome gasp he ejaculated into the human's throat, sending his seed deep into the human's body. Continuing to thrust, he let his seed flow for quite some time for the sheer pleasure of it, then realized his charge might be confused, and stopped himself, carefully drawing himself out.

Fauris looked surprised, both at the sensation of still being able to breathe, but also at the feelings running through his body. He sat there with his mouth open, catching his breath. Neirus giggled and waved his cock under Fauris' nose. "Are you all right? That was one of the things I didn't dare do to you while you were asleep."

Fauris looked up at Neirus' smiling, sylvan face with yearning eyes. "Neirus... you've made me so hard. I haven't come all day, and with all the other satyrs fondling me... it's starting to hurt. I've never felt this way before. I... I really want to come, with you..."

Neirus understood immediately. The human's genitals were not used to being held back for so long. He sat down and laid himself sideways over Fauris' lap, taking his cock in one hand and Fauris' testicles in the other. "Perhaps I can help..."

Fauris yelped both in pain and pleasure as his already aching erection was urged further. Neirus' fingers were subtle, nimble, suggestive, as only a satyr's touch can be. Every lift and squeeze was arousing, his stroking fingers warm, his rubbing palms smooth. By the time Neirus lifted him to his mouth and took him in, it only took three deft brushes from his tongue, and Fauris could contain himself no more. With a shout he came into Neirus' hot mouth, his seed quickly disappearing down his throat, not a drop wasted.

Fauris' orgasm ended quickly, his seed spent, but Neirus still tried to coax more out. He remained hard within Neirus' mouth, and shuddered. "Neirus... oh gods... Neirus stop, ...yaaagh! It's very sensitive after I come, and it's still aching!"

Neirus sat up, licking his lips with great concentration, searching. "There must be more... why did you stop? We have been missing out, for humans taste good!"

Fauris blushed. "I won't be able to come again for a little while," he said a bit crossly. "How did you manage to keep going for so long?"

Neirus blinked. "I'm a satyr. Satyrs never run out of seed." He smiled. "We're always rock-hard. We lust..." he passed his hand over Fauris' erection, which was beginning to soften and droop. "This is terrible. You'll never keep up!" he joked.

"You'll have to wait before we can do that again," Fauris explained. "Besides, I think you satyrs kept me erect too long. I think I need a bit of a rest."

"A rest?" Neirus laughed. "A rest? Satyrs never rest! Come now, you're a satyr, a fine, erect..." Neirus paused, growing increasingly distressed as his handling of Fauris' genitals had the opposite effect than intended, as they shrunk back down. "You weren't joking, were you. Oh well. It looks like you're not yet satyr enough for me to get any more out of you," he smiled. "Why don't you take a walk and see what the others are up to, and come back to me later?"

"Sure," said Fauris gladly, getting clumsily to his feet. "A walk will get me my energy back." He turned to leave.

Neirus put an arm around him, caressing his chest, and squeezing the human's smooth hindquarters with his hand. "My cock will be waiting for you..." He giggled lasciviously as Fauris blushed and went off through the bushes.

Fauris walked thoughtfully through the satyrs' glade, enjoying the rich scent of the forest, the blades of grass under his feet, the brush of the leaves across his body. All his senses felt heightened and alert. For once, everything in his life made him feel happy for some reason. Perhaps it will be good to be a half-satyr, he thought to himself.

Now and then, he would come across the satyrs. Here, one would be lying down on a small rise on the ground, goat's legs parted, stroking himself slowly and openly. The satyr's eyes were closed, and Fauris watched the satyr's sweaty cock with fascination. But since the satyr seemed only occupied in experiencing the feeling of stroking himself, Fauris moved on.

There, he would see two robust satyrs, bodies entwined, arms around each other, hooves crossed, as they kissed and stroked each others' torsos with great passion. Yet so involved were they that Fauris could do naught but watch, and then walk onwards.

It was not long, however, before he bumped into another satyr, this one quite free and equally erect as the others. Before he could speak, Fauris found himself pulled in by the satyr's strong arms, pressed against warm flesh, as the satyr's firm erection and balls pushed between his legs.

The satyr slinked his muscled body against Fauris' smooth skin and pushed a furred leg between the human's thighs, arms playing behind Fauris' back. "Human..." the satyr whispered in his ear. "Handsome... be welcome with us." A warm hand closed about Fauris' scrotum. The satyr's shaft throbbed against Fauris' body, rubbing expectantly. Fauris shyly reached between the satyr's legs to return the greeting gesture.

Suddenly the satyr grasped him in a firm hug, holding him tight, gripping his rear, grinding their bodies together. Fauris could feel the satyr's burning erection pressing against his skin. The satyr grunted, whispering unfamiliar but somehow erotic words in his ears. Fauris' cock begin to stiffen again, caught between their bodies. As Fauris became completely stiff, his cock burrowed against the satyr's body, and soon Fauris too began to actively rub himself against his partner. All he could feel was erect satyr, and all he could smell was arousal. After an endless time, the satyr came upon him, the space between their bodies becoming sticky and slippery. The satyr continued to thrust for several minutes before stopping, gazing at the human in surprise. "Did you not come?" he asked.

"No, but I'll be able to later on," Fauris assured. He was beginning to have doubts about his ability to perform, after the encouragement from meeting the entire satyr band.

"Well, perhaps we can help you then," the satyr grinned mischievously, letting out a shrill whistle. Immediately over a half-dozen satyrs emerged from behind the nearby bushes. They had been secretly following the human for some time, you see, waiting for an opportunity to approach him, and had sent this first satyr as a scout to test the human's newfound willingness.

Fauris' satyr partner slid around behind him, still holding him, lying down on the ground and pulling Fauris after him. As Fauris lay on his back on the satyr's front, he could feel the length of the satyr's erection resting along the cleft of his buttocks, which felt strangely comfortable. The satyr's hands were clasped around Fauris' sides, gently, as the other satyrs came upon them.

"We have been following you, watching," said one, "We wish to show you our hospitality together, to help ease you into our ways." The satyr underneath Fauris winked. "If you do not object." Again, the satyr whispered the strange yet erotic speech in his ears.

Fauris shuddered, been overtaken by feelings of lust. "Be my guest," he replied, gasping as a hand immediately gripped his erection. "Uhnn...or rather, let me be yours..."

Two satyrs sat down by Fauris' sides, and another two near his feet, while a fifth laid down on his front between Fauris' legs, massaging the insides of his thighs. And still there were one or two more satyrs walking impatiently on the grass around them. Fauris could feel himself sitting against the balls of the satyr beneath him, who suddenly said, "No peeking, now," as he moved his hands over Fauris' eyes, shifting his legs to pin Fauris' legs down and apart.

"What are y--" Fauris began to say, when an unknown number of hands began to move across his body, tracing its curves and contours, exploring each inch and every hidden nook, places Fauris had never imagined would feel good being touched -- all of them. As the satyr within him grew, so had his sensitivity. The hands roamed freely, and he could not count their number. Soon all his skin felt warm and relaxed, tingling, and he could not even tell where he was being touched -- it seemed as if the satyrs were touching him everywhere. Sometimes it felt like a hand, or a fur-covered limb slinking by; he could not tell.

Suddenly something took hold of his crotch. It felt like his balls were being dipped into a warm liquid... perhaps a satyr had taken them into his mouth, or had coated them with his seed, or had spread some lubricant upon them. It felt wonderful. His nose twitched at the scent of heady perfumes, like flowers and musk and horses, erotic and powerful.

The satyrs began to spread oils and ointments across Fauris' nude form, massaging his entire body systematically, all together at once. Every so now and again one satyr would come across Fauris, and this would get rubbed in too; from behind the growing tips of his ears, to his hard nipples, to between his buttocks, to the soles of his feet, not one place was left unminded. And they watched as the beautiful human enjoyed their kindnesses.

Each one took a turn between Fauris' legs, massaging his crotch, licking, tugging, urging his testicles to perform, while a hand would grip his aching erection and hold it steady. Fauris could not see, but it felt as if his balls were being pulled and squeezed and wanted to burst, his sacs dense, tired, while his cock stood straight at attention.

Fauris moaned as a second mouth joined the first, licking and manipulating his genitals. He felt hot satyr bodies gyrating like water across him. An erection was placed in both of his limp hands, while warm lips descended upon his nipples, and the cock under his thighs felt even thicker than before. Fauris arched his back, moaning in pleasure. "Wh... why... do... unnh.... this?"

A dozen voices whispered erotic tones to him, and from within them, a voice lilted, "It is our nature, our will to live, our being. Be with us..."

Fauris was about to reply to this in the affirmative, but could not as a thick satyr erection was pushed between his lips, stroking back into the opening of his throat. With his head tilted back, Fauris lost all sense of his surroundings. All he could feel, smell, and taste was satyr, heady and lustful.

He surrendered himself. His balls felt as lead, his mouth and hands engulfed with satyrcock, his nipples hard as rock, and still his crotch was being handled. Fauris lost all track of time. He finally came, and then again, his seed shooting like an arrow from his erection, but what became of it he could not feel nor see, so numb it was from attention.

When the hands finally lifted from his eyes, Fauris could tell by the sun that over an hour had passed. At least five hands helped him to his feet, and seven or eight satyrs smiled at him in appreciation, their eyes travelling up and down his body, waiting for him to speak.

Fauris looked down at himself, his eyes opening wide in amazement. His whole body had become muscled, his chest proud and broad above a sculptured stomach. His arms, legs, and even his neck felt thick and stocky. His skin glistened from head to toe, lustrous and attractive. But there, between his legs, his penis was covered at the base with a thick, furred sheath, below which hung a heavy pair of dark, equine testicles. Fauris could feel their weight even as he stood, and they glistened with desire. His lust rose from the mere sight of himself, and he watched his own erection rise, like a sword emerging from its scabbard. It was then Fauris realized he had truly begun to cross the line from human to faun. With satyr genitals, he could perform longer and more frequently. And the satyrs were still waiting for him to speak.

"Come, my brothers," Fauris said, "Drink of your gift to me." And he raised his cock high.

* * * * *

Late into the afternoon, Fauris roamed freely, meeting many satyrs, sometimes talking, or nestling close, sometimes stroking; and he drank dreamily from many a satyr phallus, as did many from his. Fauris' body had finally begun to shrug off the human need for food, able to survive fully on the seed from his fellow satyrs; and so his body urged him to drink as much of it as possible and to give of himself as well. The weight of his balls never ceased making him want to relieve himself, but he still needed to take occasional breaks to allow his penis to become erect again after climax, although far less often.

Fauris took this time to learn of the social norms, such as the proper way to greet fellow satyrs. This would involve casual stroking of each others' erections with one hand, and if he wished to express sexual interest, the message would be given by politely kneeling and then licking at the other satyr's cocktip for approval.

If the other satyr was interested, he would usher you to one side where you could conduct sex properly. Some acts were considered open and public, others private, but no one would yet tell Fauris of these. If the other satyr was not interested, he would ejaculate in your mouth as a token gesture and then move on. If snuggling rather than sex was desired, you would press your chest to the other satyr rather than taking him into your mouth.

Fauris was surprised to find that although most of the satyrs' day revolved around sex, it also involved random long naps, and philosophy. At one point he found himself with a small group who taught him the finer details of how to use his tongue, mouth and hands with greater skill than he had ever thought possible. Sex was no longer merely an act, he found, but among satyrs a skilled art -- an art in which he did not excel, but he was rapidly improving. And to the satyrs' surprise, Fauris was an incredibly fast learner, for a human.

By the time Fauris returned to Neirus' glen, the sun had almost set. Neirus was engaged, and Fauris felt somewhat embarrassed by his timing, and stood in the bushes to grant Neirus his privacy. But even then, he could not help but watch.

Neirus' partner was one of the few sileni in the band, of whom Fauris had seen little. Like Neirus, the sileni sported small white horns upon his forehead, and a horse's tail behind; but the sileni was taller, more barrel-chested, and with a subtly different build. His legs and thighs were covered with chestnut brown horsehair instead of goatlegs, and his hooves were large and solid, not cloven like Neirus'.

The sileni and Neirus were in a position Fauris had not observed before. Neirus was on his back on the ground, the sileni lying on top of him, their fronts facing one another but inverted. Each one clutched the other to themselves with an iron grip, their cocks in one another's mouths. Fauris was amazed to clearly see the bulge of their erections pushing into their throats, even the swelling of the sileni's cocktip, and soon he saw them climax together.

After a time, Neirus and the sileni pulled out from one another, and Fauris emerged from the trees. "Ah, so it is you!" Neirus exclaimed. "I thought I saw you earlier out of the corner of my eye. But how you have changed! You shall be a handsome satyr yet!" His eyes twinkled.

The sileni stepped forward, reaching out in greeting and rubbing his palm so expertly around Fauris' cocktip, that Fauris automatically stomped a foot and almost lost his balance. "I am Damocles," the sileni introduced himself. "I do not believe we have met, except shortly after you awoke. Had I seen how your changes were going, I would have introduced myself much earlier." He smiled nonchalantly, but Fauris noticed that the sileni seemed to be desperately trying to hold back his desires. For all of his cool stance, Damocles' tail was flicking rapidly, his upper lip curling, nostrils twitching, and leaning first on one hoof and then the other. His cock, considerably larger than those of the satyrs, curved up firmly from a massive, dark scrotum.

Fauris reached down and touched it in return, making the sileni whinny. "Oh human... I wish I could stay, but I have brother satyrs expecting me, and Neirus has long awaited your return."

Fauris smiled. "Very well, but come here, Neirus, and you, Damocles the sileni, let me show you what I have learned." Neirus approached, exchanging glances with Damocles. Fauris took both their erections in his hands, kneeling, and touched them together at the tips into his open mouth, probing and titillating them with his tongue as the other satyrs had taught him earlier in the afternoon. He so desperately wished he could take them both into his mouth, but even for satyrs this is not possible.

Damocles neighed and Neirus gasped, then laughed. "The double-flute! Great Pan, what you must have been learning this day!" They both lightly ejaculated into Fauris' mouth, who by now had learned to swallow as fast as it flowed. Damocles sighed blissfully. "I shall endeavor to meet with you again," he said, bowing with a flick of his ears, and moving off into the bushes, holding his tail high. Fauris noticed that the walking gait of the sileni was also different from that of Neirus and the other satyrs.

Neirus grinned, watching Fauris admire the vanishing Damocles. "Come, my human friend, tell me of your exploits! If you are to be a satyr, you should learn to boast and spin a tale." He sat, patting the grass beside him.

Fauris eagerly sat, easing his rear down onto Neirus' warm palm, and placed his hand around Neirus' shaft. "Nay, nay," Neirus laughed, returning the gesture in kind. "That may wait. I do greatly desire to... try you," Neirus paused, staring admiringly between Fauris' legs, "But as your guardian I would have you tell me of your day. To listen, get your impressions, and answer your questions." And so he did.

* * * * *

It was fully dark by the time Fauris finished, taking into account that Neirus, like all satyrs, had thrown in his own boasts and tales throughout. The moon cast a green shadow under the canopy of leaves, and now there were voices raised in song. When Fauris' tale had ended and Neirus had answered his questions, he led the changing human through the bushes towards the center glade of the band. "Come now, this is what I had been waiting to show you all this time. It is how we end most of our evenings here."

They emerged into the large clearing, bathed in firelight. The bonfire was high and bright, its flickering flames lighting the area. To all sides, gathered around the fire, were almost all of the satyrs Fauris had met that morning. Damocles was not there. "He is occupied tonight," Neirus said, casting a glance to the undulating pairs of male forms in the shadows of the fire against the glade's edges, "But I would be pleased if you were my partner this evening," and Fauris smiled.

Fauris and Neirus joined the circle around the fire. "And so we are almost all gathered," one of the elders stood up and announced. "Let the celebration of the night begin!" Satyrs pulled out musical instruments and began to play, while people cuddled or danced, spun tales or sat and watched. Fauris noticed that many pan-pipes and double-flutes that the satyrs played upon were carved suggestively.

Fauris lost Neirus in the crowd for a while, talking with the satyrs he had met earlier in the day. He exchanged jokes and was teased many a time about his sexual performance, but only in jest. More often was his form praised, and at least a dozen satyrs whispered to him, asking if he wished to be their partner, which he politely declined.

Sex was not taking place around the fire, although there was much talk of it. Fauris sat in a small circle of satyrs, pleasantly stroking one another, listening to stories of satyr visits to the nearby human town. It seems so foreign somehow, Fauris thought, yet I feel that the human village would be my proper home, even though I feel better being here.

He was also invited to sing and play music, in which he was able to surprise and amuse the satyrs with his deft ability upon the lyre. Something in his human memory retained the skill of lyre-playing and the lyrics of songs, and while his human songs were not at all as lewd as those of the satyrs, he impressed them nonetheless.

When he managed to rejoin Neirus, Fauris was quickly fatiguing, a trait that the others seemed to lack, and which pointed to part of him still being very human. "You cannot sleep yet!" Neirus laughed. "The best is still to come, for now, we shall dance!"

A rattle of drums sounded, and music rose loud in the air. Satyrs all stood and encircled the bonfire, beginning a rapid dance. Unlike human dances, the satyrs stomped, leapt gracefully, and kicked, making wild, bestial sounds, holding their cocks.

Fauris found himself within the circle of satyrs, dancing along as best he could, hemmed in with Neirus behind him and another satyr in front of him. As the dance went on, Fauris began to feel more comfortable, soon stamping his feet, gyrating and grunting. Something in the music called to him. The sounds of the forest, back when the animals and spirits roamed the earth, in the dawn of the gods, before the appearance of man. He was mesmerized.

All around the fire, he could see writhing satyrs moving in the flickering light, each one erect and glistening, thrusting their cocks to the rhythm of the drums. He found himself standing hunched over, like a beast, flexing to display his masculinity to those around him who did the same. Cocks spurted freely, the scent of satyr lust building in the dry heat of the fire, as they danced ever faster.

Fauris was losing himself in the dance, at last letting himself think with his phallus and not with his human mind. Neirus passed him a large flagon, filled with a dark purple liquid. "Drink and be merry!" Neirus said. Fauris lifted it, gulping some down in one large swallow, and immediately stumbled, his vision blurred, his thinking foggy.

"Waaazisthisstuff?" he slurred. Satyr wine is so much more potent than human wine, of course, and one swallow was enough to have an immediate effect on the human.

"It is our wine!" Neirus laughed. "Don't stop now, as a satyr you should be able to drink almost a barrelful!" and helped the dizzy Fauris to drink what remained.

Fauris' mind was completely lost under the influence of the wine. He felt like an equine beast. Nay, his mind told him, you are equine. As he danced and stomped, satyrs came upon him, and his toes darkened, solidifying and fusing, becoming hard, cloven hooves which he stood upon; and goat's fur began to grow on his legs. Bodies danced about him, fingers touching. He reached between legs and felt what it was to be male. His mouth tasted male. His throat filled with male, and he felt male coursing down into his body. Tails flicked, revealing dark caverns which called to be filled. Then all he smelled was Neirus, pressed up behind him, and Fauris felt a bonfire burst into flame below, behind, inside him. And then he remembered nothing.

* * * * *

The following morning, Fauris awoke (or rather, became conscious) with his face buried deep in satyr groin, a thick cock filling his mouth and stroking itself back and forth in his throat, musky balls pressed up against his chin. Although surprising, it gave Fauris the most wonderful sensations to wake up to. His throat had become like that of a satyr, its purpose to accept the phalli of his brethren, and to bring him pleasure while doing so. Soon the cock orgasmed within him, and he felt the seed shoot into his body, becoming a sexual, tingling warmth that woke him up without a hint of drowsiness remaining.

The satyr drew himself out slowly, still spurting. "Good morning," he said, smiling with an appreciative leer. "I woke you up like you told me to. You were great! I hope to see you again later today, Fauris, you know I'd love to have you again." With this he turned, flicking his tail over Fauris' face, and quickly trotted away, giggling, even before Fauris could manage to speak. He didn't recognize the satyr.

Fauris sat up and immediately clutched his head. What a hangover, he thought; but strangely, even as he thought it, the ache was diminishing. Still, his muscles and joints felt hot, almost sore from exertion. What had I been doing? he thought. Dancing? On the ground behind him was a large wooden flute, carved to resemble a satyr's malehood. His back hurt from sleeping on top of it.

He saw that he was in the middle of the campfire glade, and could see the other satyrs walking about, tending to their daily business. A number of them waved to him, whom he did not recognize either. "Good morning, Fauris!" one declared. "You really were at it last night! We had been waiting for so long. I tell you, I'd never seen anyone act with a flute like that..." he shook his head, chuckling. "Meet with you later?"

"Meet?" Fauris said, very confused and not sure he was hearing properly. By the sun, it was already well past noon. Had he been sleeping all morning?

"Mate, yes," the satyr said, rubbing himself between the legs as he walked away smiling.

Fauris shook his head, trying desperately to remember something, anything, about last night, but to no avail. He tried with difficulty to get to his feet, but his legs had become weak and shaky. Looking down, he was shocked to see his feet clad with shiny, cloven hooves. His feet had elongated slightly, and the heels had shrunk. His lower legs were thinner, almost bony, and his upper legs had become more muscled. Their profile was no longer straight like a human's, but bent, as if he were crouching. When he finally managed to stand, his balance was shaky. Carefully, he stumbled to the brook that flanked one side of the glade.

Splashing cold water on himself, he washed his face, where he felt more changes. He leaned over the water. His nose had become completely like that of a satyr: flatter in shape, the tip like that of an animal. Dark, almost triangular, with wide, scenting and sensitive nostrils. His ears too were longer, the backs fuzzy, and his chin and jaw showed early signs of beard growth.

Fauris crawled into a small shaded enclosure of bushes and leaned up against a tree to collect his thoughts. What had he been doing last night? He looked down at his legs, and it was obvious that he was well on his way to becoming half-satyr, now that it was his third day with the band. But the human was not horrified, no, he was entranced. The cloven hooves were attractive. He wished he had had them as a human before.

He stared down at his crotch and again saw how handsome like an equine he was becoming, and he was glad. All the strange, lustful emotions he had guarded in himself as a young man no longer needed to be hidden. He knew that the satyrs showed their passions openly. It was their way of life.

He noticed now, looking down, that his upper legs and thighs were covered with a downy layer of fine, curly brown hairs. His private parts, on the other hand, were buried in long, dense crotch hair, that extended up his belly. No, he thought, fur. And hanging below were his dark, heavy horse-like testicles. He cupped them in the palms of his hands, warming them, and almost immediately a surge of lust ran through his body, his brown-furred sheath swelling.

Fauris' erection emerged, straight and firm, and he was amazed to see it was longer than he had known it to be. Not that he didn't mind. Something else had changed about it too, which he couldn't place. It looked more... virile than before. He reached down to touch it, and as he did, a powerful urge to have sex shot through him. His penis hardened fully, and his balls ached; his body sang with wanton desire.

Fauris grasped his erection with his hand instinctively, manipulating his balls with the other. The tighter he gripped himself, the better it felt, and he stroked hard, enjoying the feeling of masturbation like he had never felt it before. He closed his eyes, his mind reeling with the need to relieve himself of his seed, and as he stroked ever more urgently, he bent himself forwards.

As he felt his balls start to tense, and his malehood throb in his hand, he sniffed the air and found his own scent was making him even hornier. Without thinking, he bent forward more and took his own cock between his lips. His back had gained flexibility over the night, and now he took full advantage of it. He grasped his shaft near the base, bobbing his mouth up and down on his cocktip, which he found to be wild and tasty. He curled his tongue around it, using the techniques he had been taught the previous day. His erection pulsed in his mouth and his hand, and then he was drinking his own seed, emptying his testicles yet filling his body at the same time, and it was wonderful... Fauris let himself come quickly, immersing himself in the sensation and taste of his own cock.

When he finished, Fauris rested for several minutes, relaxing in peace against the tree as he listened to the quiet sounds of the brook and of the wind in the trees. His eyes drooped, and he had almost drifted into a mid-afternoon nap when his ears twitched to the sound of hooves walking across the grass towards him. The bushes parted, and out stepped Damocles.

"Ah, there you are!" he declared. "I was waiting the whole morning for you to wake up; I turn my back for one minute, and off you go into your own private corner to stroke yourself." He smiled knowingly.

Fauris looked up at Damocles, admiring the sileni's large endowment from his sitting position. "Damocles. At last, someone I recognize! Can you tell me what I was up to last night? That wine Neirus gave me knocked me out cold. Oof... darn legs, I'm not used to this yet. Help me up, would you?"

Damocles lifted Fauris up without even straining his muscles. He looked at the human's legs and immediately saw that the leg structure was changing to resemble those of a satyr. The human would get used to it in time, he knew. "Last night? I was occupied elsewhere, but it sounds as if you may have been up to some mischief, if you cannot remember your exploits. That is strange; Neirus told me he had planned to give you some of our weaker wine."

"That was weak?" Fauris laughed, greeting Damocles as they hugged and fondled each other. "Well, satyrs will be known for their ability to throw a good party! How did you find me?"

Damocles stomped a hoof, smelling the air. "By your scent from being aroused. I'm glad you had become so, for otherwise I would have had a harder time tracking you. Not that I couldn't be much harder already..." He knelt and put his face between Fauris' legs. Fauris could feel a hot tongue lapping at his tip, where it nestled just out of its sheath. He stood rigid, knowing what this meant. Damocles stood, and read the pleasure in Fauris' eyes. "Come now," he said, putting his arm around Fauris' back and leading him out of the bushes with his hand on his butt. "To my glade. I can ravish you there..."

Fauris went with Damocles, his heart racing, his erection standing out proudly in front of him as he walked. This was his first proper invitation from another satyr! Soon they entered another secluded glade, away from the rest. Damocles' scent lingered everywhere.

The sileni turned and put his arms tightly around Fauris, a gesture which Fauris returned, and they hugged each other lustfully. Their hands roamed, petted and felt one another, their stiff malehoods pressed between their powerful bodies. After some minutes, as their bellies began to dampen from their own precum, Damocles could resist no more. "Aaah, budding faun... I want you in me, now..." Fauris paused, and Damocles read a strange unfamiliarity in his eyes. "We're alone together, you know... I want that nice sexy cock of yours under my tail." Fauris continued to register a blank expression. "You weren't joking; you don't remember?!"

Fauris almost would have laughed if Damocles had not seemed so upset. "Remember what?! The last thing I remember was Neirus slipping me your satyr wine, and then it was noon today. Everyone keeps calling me by name and winking at me and complimenting my flute and I don't know what they're talking about!"

Damocles' smile broadened dramatically. "Then... I will be your first! That you remember, anyway. Come, Fauris..." he lilted. "Mount me..." And he turned himself suggestively to one side, his horse's tail held away.

Fauris stood motionless. Damocles reached back and took his shaft in his palm, like he had the previous day, and angled it out. Fauris took a step forward, his mind suddenly filled with images of the stallion mounting its mare, the ram mounting its ewe, the stag mounting its doe. And the satyr mounting his fellow satyr. His human instincts were fading, as his mind told him that to mount Damocles was merely doing as Nature dictated. It was to do as satyrs were meant to do.

Fauris' lust suddenly knew no bounds. His shaft again ached, not for climax, but for the need to be within another. Damocles' equine hindquarters were shapely, well-built, animal... the grayish horsefur beckoned around his visible anus, dark, wide, inviting...

Fauris leapt against Damocles, pushing his erection into the sileni's body, making him arch his torso forward with a gasp of pleasure, hooves apart for support. Damocles smiled, sensing Fauris' new-found resolve, as his penis pushed into him. Fauris' head spun dizzily from the sensations running through him, as he began to stroke himself in and out of Damocles' passage. "A male within a male..." he breathed. "I didn't think it was possible... it feels... feels so good..."

Damocles grinned, pushing his rump backwards into the human in time with his thrusts. "Ah, but satyrs are not built as other mortals... who cannot do this..." Fauris gasped as Damocles' body clamped down around his member, tugging, pulling it further in. It almost felt like hands around it; a tightness began pressing at the base of his cock, and then traveled up his length, but before it had gotten all the way, a new tightness would form at the base and begin on its way upwards as well. A never-ending, sensual massage.

Fauris shivered. Damocles leaned down onto all fours, and Fauris found himself bending over his back like a horse mounting its mare. Newfound desires ran amok within him, and all told him to fuck Damocles. "Oh Gods... Great Pan... Damocles, you're... w-what you're doing... Great Pan, it's so good it hurts... I want you to stop, but I don't want to stop..." Fauris found himself clutching Damocles' body under him, while he bounced his groin against the sileni's hindquarters repeatedly, with increasing force.

But with each thrust, Damocles made it just a little harder for Fauris to pull back, and each time, pulled Fauris' erection a little further in. Fauris felt the first stages of orgasm approaching, and as his precum slickened the sileni's passage, Fauris' mind was drawn into new heights of sexual ecstasy. Soon, without realizing it, Fauris' sheath and balls were pressed up against Damocles under his tail. Fauris continued to thrust, his breathing degenerating into a series of moans and grunts, but he could not pull out; Damocles held him tight, still massaging his cock, and still trying to pull him in. "Can't... can't go... any further... going to come..."

"Not yet, human," Damocles grunted between Fauris' thrusts. "And you can go further..." Fauris cried out in happy delirium as the tugging within Damocles increased in its urgency. Fauris so badly wanted to come, but the sileni's expertise prevented him from doing so, dragging on the moment for two minutes, then another three, then five minutes, and more, with no sign of ending. Fauris' whole being swirled with need... all he wanted to do was to push his cock as far into Damocles as possible and come. Nothing else mattered. But nothing seemed far enough for the sileni.

Fauris felt as if his shaft was going to be pulled off his body. It throbbed so badly, his balls hurt, and his head throbbed too. Gradually, Fauris lost all sense of his surroundings, closing his eyes. The throbbing in his head grew, and as it did, Fauris' awareness centered on his cock. Then, suddenly, his consciousness slipped away -- nay, it was not gone, my fellow satyrs. Fauris experienced for the first time what we satyrs take for granted. Mortals are notorious for their sense of self, the awareness of their being. Immortals, on the other hand, always Are, and so being aware of one's immortality ceases to be important. In our moments of ecstasy, we lose contact with all except our senses. We do not even think of our senses while it happens: we are the senses.

And this is what Fauris felt. He no longer felt human, he no longer felt he was alive, he had no name, and neither did he notice he no longer noticed these things. All he was, was experience. All his consciousness became his pounding heart, his pumping veins, his boiling skin, his rushing ears. His excited phallus. He became all that it was. He could feel Damocles' body around his being, calling to him, lifting him further, deeper, higher, more. As Fauris achieved this new level of ecstasy, suddenly Damocles released him, and Fauris humped the sileni with the wildness of a hundred stampeding horses, and orgasmed with what felt to him like the pouring of a hundred raging rivers.

For one brief instant, Fauris felt himself merge with Damocles. Fauris' essence was flowing into the sileni's body, and thus, so too was Fauris' consciousness within the sileni's body. And there, for a split-second, his consciousness merged with Damocles', and they knew their mutual pleasure, and it was as one. It was fleeting. It was something Fauris could never had experienced, nor even imagined, as a human. But it ended quickly -- for suddenly, Fauris was aware of his self, of his mind, of his body. He was in a quiet glade, his cock sliding in and out of Damocles' butt. And it felt good.

Fauris continued to hump Damocles for another ten minutes in silence, enjoying the sensation, but no longer climaxing. "Now I understand," he said at last. "I think I know what it is to be a satyr, though I do not know how it is happening..."

Damocles pulled himself off of Fauris and cuddled with him in the grass, as they stroked each other, and tried to explain the unexplainable. "You cannot know. To know, you would have to be an immortal. I, like you, was once human. But you shall only be making half of the journey, indeed, you have already made most of it. My age? My age does not concern me anymore, it does not dwell in my thoughts. But if you must know because you are mortal; by your reckoning I believe I am a bit over 300 of your years.

"I was once a soldier in Sparta's army; we crossed through Arcadia to conquer the rich fields of the West, but in our foolishness part of our company tried to traverse the forest. We were almost all killed. But some of our fellows had made drink with the satyrs, and in our drunkenness we cavorted with them. We then understood about the forest, and elected to join it. And now my life is more than it ever could have been if I had stayed a human." He smiled at Fauris. "Do not be afraid. You too can make the choice. But now is not your time.

"If you become a satyr, you become part of Nature. Your self-awareness no longer dominates your mind, for death no longer looms upon your years. Do the bear and the stag and the bird have a purpose, except to be? So it is with the satyrs. The animals live according to the way their nature tells them to do so. So to, do we. We are forest spirits, some would call us minor deities, but no, we are but small forces amongst greater ones, and that is our place in the scheme of things. Men think of us as beasts, but that is not wholly true. We think as men, we create, we dream. Most of all, we do all this and live to experience the sheer joy of living; it is our nature to make love to each other. Our bodies are made to match this nature."

At this Fauris had to smile. "Man above and horse below," he remarked. "Yet neither Men nor horses live by their sexual desires alone."

Damocles chuckled. "We appear so because we are in the image of the Great Pan. But our external selves are not the same as the internal. How many humans could take a satyr's cock within their throat and not suffocate? How is it you could mount me without injury to either of us? Aside from the wine, in your three days with us, have you once consumed food or had need to excrete?"

The sileni watched as an expression of surprised realization crossed Fauris' face. "Ah, now you see how much of a faun you have already become! We survive on the forest, the presence of its trees, and on the essence of one another. Your seed is our food, and ours is yours; whether you suckle on a satyr's cock or... take it from behind."

Fauris nodded. "That would explain part of my hunger when I first awoke. I felt like I could never stop drinking..." He gazed down at Damocles' thick erection in his hand which he was quietly playing with, taking in its scent, and feeling the satyr within him beginning to grow in desire once more.

"Yes," Damocles agreed, "It is rather... addictive..." he said suggestively, spurting onto Fauris. Fauris blushed, but his face had unconsciously begun to sink downwards, and the sileni put his hands behind his head and guided him to his belly, where Fauris' mouth quickly began licking enthusiastically at his tip.

Just then the bushes at the side of the glade rustled, and a satyr stepped through. "Ah, Damocles! Still giving Fauris your personal initiation, hmm?" Fauris sat up, blushing dark red, Damocles' seed splattered on his face. He recognized the satyr now, it was the one who had hailed him by name earlier that day. "Ah, but I see some of those strange human inhibitions still remain. Do not blush! You make me hard just looking at you." He smiled, stroking his shaft as he came forward.

"Doesn't he though?" Damocles grinned. "Fauris, I don't know if anyone has told you this. You are the sexiest, most beautiful human that we have ever set our eyes upon. Yet that word does not even begin to describe our lust as we look at you, and even more so as you become a faun. I could have that beautiful cock of yours inside me forever..."

"Oh, don't listen to him," the satyr interrupted, laughing. "Damocles is the horniest one among us, satyr or sileni. After he first joined the band, he had been under everyone's tail so often and so quickly that even we lost count! He ruined all the bets!"

"Lycus!" Damocles protested.

"Oh, come on. You can't wait until you bond with the human under his tail. If he had a tail. Admit it!" Lycus teased.

"All right, I do," Damocles said, eyes twinkling. "Who else around here is better equipped to do it? Besides, I thought we'd, you know, build up to it, tail or no tail. I don't understand why humans don't have tails to begin with, they'd look so much better with them."

"Hey, now wait a minute," Fauris began to remark, on the subject of tails.

"True," Lycus agreed, examining Fauris closely. "He's grown some since yesterday, actually."

"What??" Fauris twisted his head, trying to see his back side.

"No, no, your phallus!" Lycus grinned. "Definitely larger now. More satyrish in shape, certainly. By the time you're a faun, the whole band would bend over for you."

"I already have," Damocles pointed out, smirking.

"Oh, you'd bend over for anyone," the satyr joked. "Though I would be truly surprised if you had coaxed some more growth out of our human prodigy! How long did it take?"

Damocles glanced at the angle of the shadows but seemed hesitant to answer. "Maybe... forty minutes?"

Lycus laughed proudly. "Ha! More like thirty minutes. Either way, you said you could make him last over an hour, you braggart. I win!"

"All right, so I might over-estimate my abilities and flaunt it to our new brother," Damocles conceded good-naturedly. "What satyr wouldn't? Fauris, meet Lycus; Lycus, Fauris. Lycus was... well, he was the first satyr I knew as a human."

"And little did I know I'd be creating a monster like the humans would tell tales of us," Lycus said, tickling Damocles under his balls. "I believe we met last night, although I don't think you remember."

"No," Fauris said, finally managing to break into the conversation. Damocles and Fauris stood, and Fauris and Lycus hugged, exchanging greeting fondles. "So do you usually place bets when humans come around?"

"Actually, yes," Lycus replied. "Every time we think we know how far a human can go with us, they still manage to take us by surprise now and then. You've changed faster than most!"

Damocles nodded in agreement, stepping up to hug the other two. Fauris found himself comfortably pressed between two lecherous male bodies. "But has he changed enough?" Damocles said, smiling. "We are supposed to be showing our human friend our hospitality."

"Yes," Lycus agreed, winking. "We have not yet given him our most honored gift."

"And what might that be?" Fauris grinned, handling two heavy sets of balls with his hands to each side.

"Why, to mate, of course," Damocles purred, licking Fauris' ear. "What you have done to me, we wish to do to you... there was a danger before."

Lycus elaborated. "When we found you asleep, the Elders said you were not to be... molested. Damocles was one of those banned, in case his impulses got the better of him and hurt you." His eyes shone. "But now, you should be faun enough to be able to... take us."

"Take you..." Fauris repeated. More images of mating satyrs rushed through his head. It sounded so tantalizing, and yet, part of his human mind seemed to be teetering on the edge of a threshold.

"Yes," Damocles said, stroking his fingers against Fauris below, where his tail should have been. "To mate is our strongest act of affection. Imagine... your changes into a faun would quicken even further; for the stomach weakens our essence when you drink it, but its effect is much greater when you receive it directly..."

Together, the satyr and sileni began to touch and stroke Fauris between the legs, petting his erection, fondling his testicles, and rubbing his hindquarters. They whispered to him in the strange, erotic language of satyrs which Fauris had heard the day before, and for the first time, he could begin to understand it. As his sexual urges grew, Fauris no longer questioned his instincts. "Oh Gods, I want you inside me... to mount me... I want to know what it is to be a faun."

The satyr and sileni exchanged knowing smiles, hugging the human between them. "Well, you won the bet," the sileni said, grinning to the satyr. "Although I would give my beard to be in your hooves right now." He rubbed the front of his body against Fauris, letting him feel the smooth skin of his hard shaft. "Come now, Fauris... let us play while Lycus prepares you. Let yourself relax." He rubbed his cocktip on the human's hairy stomach.

Fauris smiled, his nostrils scenting, bringing up his hands to hold Damocles' shaft against him, eliciting a lustful moan from the sileni. He felt Lycus' hands petting his torso from behind, while the satyr's hot shaft touched him between his buttocks. A burning warmth sat against his anus, unmoving, but a trickle of semen began to flow into him.

Fauris and Damocles stroked the sileni's shaft together. Fauris then took his hands away from its rigid length, filled with a strong desire to take it into his mouth, and began to bend his face down, to touch his tongue to Damocles' cock. But the sileni would ever inch his shaft away. Behind him, Fauris could feel Lycus' seed flowing into him, and his body absorbing it. His anus felt looser and sensitive, allowing Lycus to push his shaft forward so that his cocktip disappeared into the human's body. Damocles now began to take small steps back, teasing Fauris with the promise of his phallus to drink. Fauris leaned his neck out, shifting his upper body forward, but Damocles always managed to keep his cocktip an inch away, yet close enough for Fauris to scent his desire. As the satyr behind him spilled more seed into the human, the area right inside Fauris' anus became looser and more sensitive, allowing Lycus to slip in still further, and for his seed to begin altering Fauris' passage to a deeper and deeper depth.

And still Damocles stepped back. Fauris reached out to Damocles' thighs to steady himself, trying to drink from the delicious shaft which stood ready before him. And as he bent over, Fauris pushed his rear back onto Lycus. The satyr spurted more generously now, speeding up the process of change, as Fauris' body adapted to take in satyr phallus.

Soon, Fauris could no bend no further, almost losing his balance. He dropped his hands to the earth and stood on all fours, his legs looking all the more goat-like in this position, but at last he could take Damocles' shaft into his mouth. And so too could Lycus now push most of his length into Fauris. Fauris had been so occupied with Damocles' teasing, that until this moment, he had not realized the great depth to which the hot, hard maleness had pushed within him.

Damocles eased his shaft effortlessly into Fauris' mouth and beyond, watching it slide into the human's thorat. Fauris was captivated as a sense of calm overtook him; he was filled at both ends with warm, pulsating erections. The sensation made him feel complete as a being, and then they began to move.

Immediately, a shock of pleasure ran through his body. It was a thousand times better than any sex he had ever experienced as a human -- his mouth, throat, and hindquarters had become sensitive, sexual organs; whose only purpose were to register pleasure. He could feel the shape and curve of the phalli stroking themselves in and out of his body, he could sense their essence flowing into his being. And he could begin to sense the pleasure of both Lycus and Damocles within his own mind, which made Fauris only get harder, slapping his own erection against his belly as he rocked forward and back, forward and back, as the satyr and sileni petted him and whispered to him in their strange sexual language.

They remained so for a long time. Damocles and Lycus wanted Fauris' first time to go smoothly, quietly, for him to get accustomed to the sensations of the deep penetrations of mating; and so they merely stroked in and out of him, letting the human's handsome body absorb their essence, to ease its way on the path to being a faun. When at last they finished, Fauris was in rapture, and they took him to meet others in the band who were in an inclined mood.

The whole day Fauris mounted others, but more often did others mount him, and he eagerly descended to all fours. He gladly watched as one satyr would press an engorged cock between his lips, and felt another stretch open his body from behind, while other satyrs observed and ejaculated upon him, and his own rigid cock splashed against his stomach and chest. He spoke with, played and drank from many satyrs, and received wisdom from the elders. The sileni took him aside and began to teach him how to control his changing body, and ways to make it give more pleasure to someone within him, as they had once learned themselves, mounting him with their stallion-like shafts. He learned that it was not just Damocles who had lusted for him in his sleep; most of the satyrs were awaiting the chance to mount a male human, for on their visits to the human village, it was only the rare female that would take them in.

By the time it was evening, Fauris forsook the evening bonfire at Damocles' invitation, and joined him for the hidden matings that went on behind the trees. Fauris now never needed worry that his seed might run dry. His sex drive was now his prime sense. Fauris could drink the wine and not lose his mind, and in the shadow of the leaves, Neirus mounted him for the first time out of love as much as in lust. Several times. Fauris could feel the long satyr shaft moving inside of him again as they laid down to sleep, and a strange itch.

"Neirus, why do you tease me so?" Fauris yawned, slumbering, twitching behind to shoo away the itch.

"Because I admire your tail," Neirus replied, scratching at the base of the luxurious horsetail that Fauris now sported. Fauris could only groan and smile as the satyr wine finally overcame his senses and he went to sleep.

* * * * *

Night. Nether. He was not anywhere. He stood on ground he could not see, a hole in the sky was the moon. There were dark mountains, far around him. No clouds, but the distant rumble of thunder. There was a tree.

The tree was life, a tree of all trees. The trunk was as wide as the sky, and he could just make out its first roots and branches, and yet he knew that what he could see was nothing compared to the roots and branches of the tree that extended into the beyond.

From the tree stepped a being, giant in size, or perhaps it was small in size but was giant in its power. He was cloaked in shadow, and he was most certainly a he, for he walked with a great erection between his legs. Deep eyes he could not see poured into him, from a featureless face under two great spiraling horns. A hand reached out from the being, dipping itself into the liquid of his soul and feeling the water. The hand was calming in its touch, yet terrifying in the depths to which it could go.

The hand smoothed his waters, telling him peace, and withdrew. But between two fingers it now clutched a ring, holding it carefully as if it were the softest silk, and Fauris felt as if he were the ring in this being's hand. He was warmed by his touch, as the being felt the weight of the ring on his palm. He was a circle, eternal, whole, and yet empty.

Holding the ring, it grew in the figure's hand, and then he placed the ring around his erection, with which it merged. Watching this happen, Fauris could feel a shock, quite positive, travel through him. His circle no longer felt empty.

The figure turned and began to walk away, towards the tree. But as it left, it peered over its shoulder at him, then reached out into his soul once more with its hand -- no, hoof -- and beckoned. It was not a command. It was not an obligation. It was simply as it had to be: a necessary journey, for both of them together.

* * * * *

Fauris awoke suddenly to bright sunlight. None of the other satyrs were with him this morning, but he had climaxed in his sleep. Cleaning himself, Fauris realized that he was now a full faun. His legs were satyr-like in shape, tipped with dark, cloven hooves, and covered in soft, downy brown fur under which the pink skin of his legs could just barely be seen. A long, full-bodied horsetail flicked behind him. His whole being felt different inside, from the blood in his veins to his breathing. He was now a muscular, youthful male, and his face had a satyr's nose and ears. And between his legs was a glorious erection, showing no sign of ever softening again. Experience the joy of life, his new body told him. Fauris smiled, stroking himself pleasurably as he stretched and stood up. This was the way to live.

As he awoke, Fauris' human memories began to return. Now that he was no longer human, the human magic had worn off, and Fauris could again remember. Not everything at once, and not clearly, but he knew. He suddenly understood how strange his new body would have seemed to his old human self. Not even strange, but threatening and unknown. But now Fauris had become that faun, and it was good. His shaft pulsed in his hand. Very good. Humans didn't know what they were missing, he thought.

He soon found Neirus by scent in the mass of sleeping satyr forms scattered about the grass, and woke him. Neirus was ecstatic. "You are faun!" he exclaimed, running his hands up and down Fauris' body. Fauris had an immediate urge to mount the satyr. "You have achieved the phallus! You are faun!"

Neirus and Fauris coupled for a time, and then rested in the sun. "What now?" asked Neirus cautiously. "Today is your fourth day, by which time we had hoped to cure you. Will you not stay?"

Fauris smiled and completed Neirus' thought for him. "And become as one of you? No." He watched the satyr's face suddenly lose its carefree joy and become sad and heartbroken. "Not yet." Fauris grinned. "I shall return."

Neirus blinked. "To go where? To the humans? If you return there, they will treat you as if you were sick, to heal you, and rid yourself of the satyr blooming inside of you, to turn you back into a mortal man. They do not understand... they have all sorts of strange rules governing sex. Without us, you would starve and become as you once were, from before you began your journey!"

"I know," Fauris nodded. "This my memories tell me. As a human, we do not live as the satyrs. We need our 'strange rules'. But while some would fear the faun I have become, others would not. Man is a curious beast.

"I hope to not be gone for long. I spoke with one of the elders yesterday, who told me of the dangers of reversion if I stayed away from the forest for too long a time. I go to see my parents in Athens, to wish them farewell and tell them of the fate I have chosen. They raised me and I did well by them, and I owe them at least a farewell. And who knows, perhaps on my travels I may induce some others to visit the Forests of Arcadia." Fauris winked and hugged his friend.

Neirus understood, although he still felt sad to be losing, if only temporarily, a male for which he had felt as never before, even among his fellow satyrs. "When had you made this decision?"

Fauris thought. "Last night, I believe, I had begun to consider it. I had made up my mind to stay and follow your path, but I was going to travel to the human village nearby to inquire about my origins, and then leave it at that. But this morning, now that I remember my family, I shall be taking a longer journey than I had originally intended."

Neirus petted Fauris' front, stroking his now sensitive nipples buried in the dense hair of his broad, muscled chest. "Can you not stay another two months? In that time, part of our band makes its traditional trek every quarter-century to sport with the centaurs of Mount Pelion. I cannot even begin to imagine their lust and envy if they were to set eyes upon a faun such as you!"

The faun laughed. "Nay, nay. When I return and become satyr, I can wait for the next excursion there. What will a quarter-century mean to me then? In the meantime, I will still have much to learn from my satyr brothers." He squeezed Neirus' balls. "Besides, I shall have my great dream to keep me going as I travel."

"What dream is this?" Neirus asked. He listened attentively as Fauris described it, the night, the tree, the male, the hand, the ring, the bonding. "This is no ordinary dream," Neirus observed. "Satyr dreams are quite racy and exaggerated. But this... this is different. And coming at such a time before you decide to leave us, bodes of something."

"Good or ill?"

"I cannot say," Neirus shook his head. "But such things may be explained. We have a holy place, deep in the forest, where the trees are reluctant to even let satyrs wander. It is our place of omens, the place we go to seek answers when things greater than ourselves assail us. Often have we seen Pan's hoofprints there."

Fauris nodded. "Then it is there I must go. I would be foolish to ignore such signs before a journey, and Lord Pan seems to have blessed my travels much."

The once-human Fauris did not idle. Neirus cautioned him that such a vision should not be delayed in its translation, lest the dream be forgotten and the details lost. Fauris quietly slipped away from the satyrs' camp, although he could not help bumping into one or two others on his departure and humping them. He began to realize why it was that satyrs needed to be immortal: if it were otherwise, they would never get anything finished!

The path to the holy glade was overgrown and tangled. Now that he had left the safety of the camp, Fauris became aware of how alert the forest was around him. Leaves and branches blocked his path, becoming tougher to brush aside as he went on; vines and brambles tripped at his hooves. Soon it was taking him several minutes only to move a short distance, and yet he was determined to stay on the path Neirus had shown him. And then, the forest stopped fighting, and suddenly he fell forward into a large clearing.

It was indeed a place of omens, there was an otherly air to it. Strange, wild flowers bloomed everywhere, scenting the breeze with their pollen. Dark prints littered the grass here and there. Perhaps they are the hoofprints of Pan, Fauris thought, but they are very old. Vines grew from many of them.

At the far corner lay a long-abandoned altar, constructed of rough stones. It had indeed been a long time since the forest had allowed worshippers here, for falling autumn leaves littered the altar's surface. In the center of the clearing stood an ancient bronze font. Fresh water bubbled upwards from the center of its bowl from some unknown source, and yet never spilled over the font's edges. But then something else caught Fauris' attention.

There were four large statues hidden to one side; and Fauris' human memories immediately recognized them. He remembered standing in the temple of Pan in Athens, and it was the same four statues here again. And yet they were different. The Minotaur of black obsidian, the Pegasus of pink granite, the white marble unicorn, and the satyr of red jasper. Each one showed the essence of their equine natures, in all their natural beauty as before.

But now they looked much more realistic. It was as if each were frozen in time, caught exactly at the moment of climax, eyes closed, mouths gasping, their bodies arched and their solid erections tense. The detail was so exact that Fauris could see the bulge of their orgasm, captured in stone, a split-second before release.

"They were my loves," a gentle voice spoke from behind him.

Fauris turned, and his eyes opened wide. He beheld Great Pan.

Before him stood the god in all his splendor. They say that his mother, seeing him upon his birth, ran away in fear; but to Fauris the half-human faun, he was beauty and power. Pan towered ten feet high, strong and tall like a bull. His fur-covered goat's legs stood upon mighty hooves, and all his body was covered with goatish fur, even his arms and face. He had in fact a small muzzle, and great spiraling horns, his head crowned with a ring of ivy. And he was quite erect.

Fauris knelt low. "Oh, my Great Lord Pan..." but before he could finish, Pan's hooves stepped to either side of him, and large, soft hands lifted him to standing. The grip was strong, and suddenly more memories flashed through Fauris' mind.

"Ah, but I see you have begun to remember. Come, sit with me a while." Pan carried him to the altar, upon which he sat like a chair, with Fauris sitting on one of his great legs. Fauris could smell Pan's desire, it was the scent of lust in all its rawness. Already Fauris' erection ached. But Fauris wondered why Pan, too, seemed to be shaking.

"My Lord Pan?" Fauris asked, "My thoughts tell me that we have met, and yet I do not remember you."

"We have indeed met," Pan said, his muzzle smiling and ears flicking. "It is my custom every few decades to make the trip to the Athenian races with my best steeds. I gamble, make merry, inspect my temples, occasionally purchase stallions for my herds, and sometimes mate." Pan touched his erection to Fauris', then stroked the two together as he spoke. "I was the rich traveler who came to your inn.

"I was the owl who woke you outside your window, if only to see you naked and pure in the moonlight. I was the seer who sent you to my temple, long since gone. I remade the temple in your eyes, and so too was I the priest. And again I was a bird, and many other beasts, watching you as you journeyed to Arcadia."

Fauris shivered, his body awash in the most heavenly delight. His pleasure from the god's touch was so intense, he could almost not speak. And yet he was also angry. Yet did one risk being angry at a god?

"g-Great Pan," Fauris trembled, trying to withhold an orgasm, "Why have you brought me here? Why have I been guided without my knowledge to this place? Why did you send a curse upon me?"

Pan smiled again but spoke frankly. "I am a god, we need not answer for our actions, except to the other gods. Yet what I have done may not have been ethical; it was as the fates directed me. Can you not feel it?" The god's hand brushed across his balls and under his tail.

Fauris sat tense, straight as an arrow. "Feel... feel..." His mind scrambled for words he could not voice. But Pan spoke them.

"Satyr." The word echoed in Fauris' mind, and then he understood. It was as if his soul had opened its eyes at last, as if he had been blind his whole life. "Satyr," Pan repeated, his voice deep and commanding. "Human shape, but satyr born. When first I saw you I thought the other gods were playing a trick upon me; but then when I touched you for the first time, I knew that your human body was making you forget your true destiny and form." He looked out into the clearing. "That is why you are here, or part of the reason."

"I feel like I belong here. I am... I am satyr," Fauris said, but he did not look at Pan. The sudden revelation of his true soul was good, like the sun, but painful with its sudden brightness.

Pan combed his hair. "I sense the shock in you, it is both pleasant yet terrifying in its newness. That is why I cursed you with human magic, to draw you here quickly, yet guide you smoothly towards your true nature, and lessen the shock. I wished to ease you into your inner satyr without conflict, and so I clouded your human memories. You must admit your entering into satyr society was unusually quick for a human, and while you became a faun in days, it would take pure humans weeks to achieve."

"How was I made to forget?" Fauris asked. "A great part of my memory still eludes me. I knew I had met you before, and I have seen these statues before, and yet neither you nor the statues are as I remember them."

"You remember the temple then," Pan said. Fauris nodded. "It was there I gave you travelling water to drink, 'holy water' I said. Holy water it was, but more. A single drop from the River Styx, to make mortals forget all. Even diluted, you felt its power, but now you are half-immortal, and its effect has been weakened. And a drop of my semen," the god smiled lustfully, "Just because."

He indicated the statues. "Here are the originals, although I have placed replicas in the temples to discover which of my worshippers may have equid in them, to make them sileni." Pan resumed his stroking of Fauris' erection with his. "Each was one of my great loves, centuries, millennia past. Not as you see them now. Nay, though each be immortal, even immortals may die. A warrior, a poisoning, the revenge of another god... fate even; death in a natural calamity.

"When their time had come, their bodies gone, I snatched their spirits before they escaped to Tartarus. Few beings share the love of a god, beings that can surprise and enrich the gods themselves, their own creators. Such were these four. I did learn much, and was glad, as were they. I had promised them a god's reward, and so I kept my promise. I made images of each one, when they were in the prime of life, cast of living stone. Their souls reside inside, forever experiencing the joy we held."

Fauris paled. The statues were the most beautiful he had ever seen, and the expressions upon them were what he yearned he might himself express some day. But his skin chilled, he could not imagine what it would be like to become living stone. "My Lord Pan, is this my fate?"

Pan read his expression and laughed. "Fates, no! Not unless you willed it so, as did they," he said. "When I saw your mortal form, not only was I astonished by the satyr inside you, but with the realization of your beauty if you became satyr."

It was Fauris' turn to smile. "So said many in the satyr band," he grinned. "But I could not compare to the beauty of these statues, nor to the beauty of a god, as beautifully crowned with horns and erect as yourself."

"So you may say," Pan remarked. "My form is merely the essence of all I am; nature, lust, rut, wine, and more. My only beauty comes from my aura, and the purity of being. But true beauty is more. See," he said, waving his hand. A shimmering wall appeared, like a great mirror.

Fauris gazed at his reflection and was immediately mesmerized by his own image. He was truly the most beautiful satyr, without vanity. It simply was so, in all his furred and erect splendor. His eyes locked on himself and he stood frozen, marveling, never wanting to look away...

With a sudden flash the wall vanished. "You see," Pan grinned. "Like Narcissus, you are snared by your own beauty. So now you know my other reason for bringing you here... the dream." He squeezed Fauris' shaft. "I am no longer complete without you. Once I first saw you, I lost a part of myself. I wish you to be with me... we shall be complete, you and I. You shall be satyr, experiencing what no mortal has felt before; and I shall have you, satyr beauty incarnate, by my side, for the gods seek out all that is perfect for their realm."

Fauris looked into Pan's eyes. They were dark, but not a well. They were the same eyes as his own.

"Zeus became an eagle and elevated Ganymede to Olympus, the most beautiful of mortal humans, to be his cup-bearer, and his bed companion. And I would gladly have you, the most beautiful satyr... not to carry my wine, but to share it with me. And for us to mate, to mate for all your immortality. If only you so choose, Fauris. I would have you." Pan's voice trembled. The forest itself seemed nervous.

Fauris took in a deep breath, shaking, not daring to breathe out. He ran his hands up and down Pan's great muscled, furred chest; and his long, sculptured cock. The god could not help but do the same to him.

The human half felt afraid, but the satyr-born had at last awoken, and saw his path clearly before him. It was what he had wanted, wanted all along, but had never known until now. "I so choose, Great Pan..."

They embraced without pause, their hands roaming each other with lustful abandon. Pan sat Fauris down, taking the faun's erection and balls into his warm muzzle. It was a mouth like no other for Fauris, he felt like he was melting inside the hot tongue which was wrapped around his length. He climaxed freely as his shaft was urged to release itself, and yet Pan's thirst could not be quenched. His whole crotch felt drained, heavy and ponderous... and then felt renewed. Pan's muzzle lifted, licking his seed from his lips, and Fauris beheld himself with a satyr's cock greater than ever before, tall and solid and shiny with desire, curved lightly and covered with thick veins.

Pan turned and knelt, lowering his hindquarters to Fauris' level, and flicked his tail up. Fauris needed no prompting. He needed to mate, desperately, and Pan's dark opening could not be resisted. Fauris was a stallion, a virile beast, and he mounted the god with bestial passion, lost in lust. All he could feel was his hard cock throbbing inside of Pan, who was soft and wet inside. Fauris felt hornier than ever, and he fucked Pan rapidly.

As they copulated, Pan slowly tightened himself around Fauris' phallus, making him work harder, and yet teasing him to hump even faster. Fauris groaned, his cock transformed by the god to meet Pan's desires. Fauris' muscles bulged under his skin, becoming greater and stronger. His rump and legs became completely like those of a satyr, but of larger girth, thick like Pan's, and his whole lower body grew dark, curly, heavy fur. Fauris climaxed inside Pan, and for a brief moment, knew what it was it to be merged with a god.

Fauris collapsed, sweaty against Pan's warm, furred back. He was so exhausted, he did not want to move, yet his body's energy was quickly renewing itself. The virility that his stiff cock generated inside him was eternal; all he wanted to do was mate.

His stomach groaned. Mounting Pan had made him incredibly hungry, and more lustful than ever. Pan read his thoughts, pulling off of him, presenting his groin in front of Fauris' face. Pan smelled of horses, nectar, and other heady scents; the god's huge balls sagged from their weight. Fauris pressed his face into Pan's crotch, dampening his face with the god's musk, and tasted him. It was indescribable, it made him hungrier still.

Fauris licked and fondled Pan's great balls, making him moan softly. He followed the sweet scent up the god's bulging sheath, along his mighty phallus. Long and hard, it was a cross between a human and a horse's maleness, thick with blood vessels. It embodied the raw passion of equines.

Fauris took Pan's cocktip into his mouth greedily, licking and stroking it with his tongue and hands. Pan immediately awarded him with a stream of seed, which felt like the essence of life itself. It was.

Slowly, Fauris bobbed his head on Pan's shaft, working it gradually towards the back of his mouth. But the more he drank of Pan's seed, the thirstier he felt. Soon Fauris sat still, while instead Pan held his shoulders in place while he pumped himself in and out of Fauris' mouth, while Fauris gladly swallowed. And slowly, Pan laid Fauris down flat on his back, the satyr remaining still while Pan leaned over him on all fours, stroking his phallus in and out of his throat.

Even then, Fauris was not adept at swallowing Pan's seed quickly enough. As he drank the god's maleness, Fauris' body changed further. His face pushed out into a light goat's muzzle, like Pan's. He grew more fur, which covered his face, neck, shoulders, and upper torso; indeed his whole body now. There was a hard pressure pushing out from his temples, and his skin parted painlessly as two great white horns grew out from his head.

Fauris spurted against Pan's chest. His thirst was gone now, but had been replaced by a new hunger. He drew himself off Pan's shaft, and then crawled to all fours, and lifted his tail. He needed the god. Pan roared with pleasure and pressed his thick phallus into Fauris' rump, slowly, so slowly. The Great Pan had to relax the satyr's body to be able to fit him, and as he did so, Fauris' mind enjoyed ecstasy and passion that he had never imagined.

And Pan mated him, as only a god can. Fauris then knew what it was to be chosen as a mate to a god, and his expression changed to those of the statues. And then they climaxed, together.

With Pan's seed filling him, it became Fauris' lifeblood. His whole body grew in height, matching the stature of the god. With Pan's seed absorbed and burning into his veins, the last remaining part of Fauris' humanity disappeared. What was once human, was now the satyr mate of Great Pan. And he was the most beautiful satyr in the world.

They coupled, the two together, well into the night. Both Fauris and Pan experienced pleasures which we satyrs can only dream about. And as the night sky opened above them, Pan lifted Fauris into the heavens, and they made love among the stars. You see the bright band that streaks across the sky? The humans call it the "milky way", but we satyrs know better. We call it "the stream", for it was made by all the seed ejaculated by Pan and Fauris that first night. Among the stars.

Fauris is in Olympus now, save when he accompanies Pan to Arcadia, or wherever the god may travel. Pan rewarded Fauris' human parents as best he could for the loss of their son, but they understood where he now was, and were proud. Neirus, Damocles and the other satyrs and sileni were also rewarded for showing Fauris their hospitality and teaching him their ways. And now we satyrs can look up at the night sky, and always be reminded of the love that Pan has for all his followers.

Well, my fellow satyrs, I have spun you a lengthy tale. I have delayed your matings long enough for tonight, and my own, for that matter. I also see a number of humans are here with us. Some of you have already grown your horns, hooves and tails; and after we mount you tonight, you will have permanent satyr phalli. And to the humans who have just recently joined, you too will change and become like us. Our cocks await you, and as you accept their gift, you will start to show the first signs of fur and well-developed genitals. These are the benefits of worshipping Great Pan with us.

I bid you welcome, brothers, and invite you to stay...