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Sharon's alarm clock was beeping loudly. The electronic din finally woke Sharon from her peaceful sleep. And I was having such nice dreams for once! She thought to herself as she pulled the sheets off herself and got out of bed. Grabbing a robe from the chair, Sharon put it on and went downstairs to find some breakfast. Normally she would have all the time in the world to relax and do nothing, but today she had to get moving. For today was the day her new roommate was moving in.

Sharon hadn't particularly wanted a roommate, but ever since the landlord, Mr. Stingely, had raised the rent, she found that her monthly expenses had skyrocketed. And she couldn't bear to leave the place; it was such a perfect home for her. Besides, with a house as large as this one, she and the roommate probably wouldn't cross paths too often. Or so she hoped.

Several people had interviewed for the roommate opportunity, but Sharon finally decided on a fellow college student such as herself. The girl had excellent references and had already paid the first two months rent in advance. She had just one unusual quirk she was a nymphomaniac.

"I just want to be up front, Sharon," Julie had said, "I think it's important that you know this from the outset: I'm a bit of a nymphomaniac. I go to a support group once a week and I'm using hypnotherapy to get my sexual addiction under control." She blushed. "It's just that -- I didn't want to not tell you and have you think I was a slut or something."

"How - how," Sharon was having trouble finding the words. "How bad is it?"

"It's not as bad as it used to be. I sleep with maybe one or two guys a week and I have to spend time in my room sometimes -- alone," Julie's face was a deep crimson, now.

"That's not so bad. It's just like having a male roommate -- only you smell better and you're honest," Sharon replied good-naturedly. She hadn't really felt like being that good-natured but she wasn't really in any kind of financial position to pay the full rent for another month.

So, it had begun. After a couple of days, she had taken to turning on her clock radio whenever she went to bed to mask the buzzing noise coming from the other bedroom but otherwise, Sharon didn't really start having second thoughts about Julie until she found Julie looking at her in a decidedly sexual way.

It had been a week since Julie had moved in, and she was beginning to creep Sharon out. While at first her addiction had been just a quirk, now it was becoming disturbing to Sharon. Lately she could swear that Julie was looking at her, stealing glances and such, in a very sexual way. Sharon felt mentally undressed every time Julie stared at her.

Sharon tried to put those thoughts from her mind. She told herself it was all in her head, that she was just being paranoid. Then, one evening after dinner, Sharon was in her bedroom watching TV when she heard Julie call out, "Sharon, can you come help me for a moment?"

Sharon walked into Julie's room and saw Julie trying to move a large box. The chest was massive, resembling an old-style foot locker. It was solid oak, with a flat lid, and bore a sturdy lock. Julie was straining against its weight, huffing and grunting as she tried to move the mass.

"Here," Sharon said, taking the lengthwise edges in her hands. "Where's this going?"

"Right to the center of the room," Julie groaned, relieved physically and mentally with the lessened strain. The pair easily got the chest into position.

"Damn," Sharon gasped, dropping to one knee and struggling to catch her breath. "What's in there, your gold ingot collection?" She said it in jest, though the sounds of rattling glass and wood piqued her interest.

"Sorry, can't tell you," she replied. "It's a secret."

Sharon crossed her arms as her face contorted into a scowl. "Julie...I'll keep it quiet. As your roommate, I think I have a right to know."

Julie thought it over for a moment. "Um...maybe it's better if you didn't..."

"I handled the nymphomaniac thing relatively well. Trust me, I won't freak out."

Her gaze turned pensive, then inquisitive, and finally softened to a smooth smile. "Okay. But you got to keep it quiet," she urged. Her voice was laden with a relieved sigh, as though she'd carried a great psychological weight for a long time that was just now lifted from her shoulders.

"Not a problem," Sharon nodded.

Julie gave her a grin, one which seemed half friendly, half seductive. She bent over and grasped the lock, making sure to none-too-subtly show off the fact that she didn't wear underwear. Sharon tried not to look.

The old lock clacked open when the ornate key was inserted into it, and Julie raised the lid. Sharon was taken aback by the sight within; the chest contained an assortment of ritual tools, neatly organized and clean. Julie had incense burners, offering plates, cloths (presumably to cover the foot locker as a makeshift altar), and a very phallic-looking wand. Within was a long-necked bottle, stopped by a penis-shaped cork.

"Surprise," Julie exclaimed. "I'm pagan!"

Sharon wasn't sure what to say. She'd had pagan friends before, but never had any interest in practicing herself. Then again, her friends weren't nymphos with cock-shaped wands. "Cool...but what's with...the...um..." She waved a finger in the general direction of the wand and bottle.

"Huh? Oh, those," Julie laughed. "I worship Pan. You know, from Greek mythology? The god of pleasure and revelry, played the pipes, had the satyrs as followers?"

Sharon nodded in understanding, "Explains a lot. So, did one cause the other? The nymphomania, I mean."

Julie shrugged. "Don't know. I started worshipping him about the time my urges started. I find letting them out in a controlled way helps." She extracted the bottle from the chest, and gripped the penis-cork, "Wine. I make my own as an offering." She brought the bottle to Sharon's nose, and invited her to inhale its fragrant, musky scent. She felt momentarily intoxicated, even a bit aroused herself. "I'm doing a ritual tonight," Julie said softly, waving the mouth of the bottle beneath Sharon's nostrils. "If you'd like, you're welcome to...join me." Her voice turned seductive and alluring on a dime.

Slowly, Sharon came out of her daze. "No! I mean...I consider religion...private, you know? I wouldn't want to..."

Julie looked away for a moment, almost pouting. "Okay. But the invite's always there."

Sharon left Julie to her ritual preparations (which involved readying wine, preparing her ritual space, and taking a long shower).

Once nightfall arrived, Sharon settled into the living room with a Dean Koontz novel, Toad the Wet Sprocket's "Dulcimer" in the CD player, and a glass of chocolate milk by her side.

She had been reading for an hour, when the sounds of moaning and stomping and grunting from upstairs became too great to ignore. She crept up the stairs, quiet as a whisper, and peered into Julie's ajar door. Sharon was stunned at the sight. Her roommate, her nearly normal roommate. So changed now. Julie was completely naked, pale arms reaching down to let herself finger her furry crotch. From the waist down, she seemed to be covered in short, brown fur, leading over her privates, spanning all the way down to her cloven hooves Julie had hooves...

Sharon was ready to back away and close the door completely when Julie had called out to her. There was no hesitating about it; she was spotted. Sharon entered slowly, shutting the door behind her. Julie only smiled, pulling her fingers out of her crotch and standing.

"It was only a matter of time before you got curious enough. Granted, I'd thought it would take longer than this. But I'm pleased. Here, have some wine." She stuffed a cup of her intoxicating wine into Sharon's hands. Sharon sniffed at it once again; not realizing just the scent was enough to begin her transformation into another satyr.

The aroma of the mystical wine filled Sharon's senses to a formerly impossible level of intoxication. She sighed as the vapors swept into her lungs and through her body, settling contently and firmly around her erogenous zones.

"Julie..." Her voice was whisper-quiet, and very nearly pre-orgasmic. She dropped to her knees before her fantastic roommate, barely able to resist stroking her nipples through her shirt and bra.

"Just relax, Sharon, and drink," Julie smiled, bringing the flagon to her roommate's mouth. "If you love the scent, you'll find the taste unbelievable."

Sharon placidly suckled on the phallic mouth of the bottle, rolling her tongue around the lip and sucking the neck like the organ it replicated. Strangely, it felt real, like she really was sucking on a thick cock. For reasons her clouded mind couldn't fathom, it delighted her.

The satyress smiled, and let her full form reveal itself. Two curling brown horns curled from her temples as her ears grew pointed, furry, and goat-like. Julie cupped her own swelling breasts and squeezed her lactating nipples, savoring the feel of her small tail and rising ankles.

"Drink, sister," Julie cooed, lovingly stroking Sharon's hair. "The wine will take effect soon."

Sharon took a moment to swallow the liquid within, marveling at the never-ending stream that flowed into her throat. It was a rich, heady white wine, thick and sweet and full and delicious; it took her a moment to realize what it was...

"Semen," she gasped, removing the bottle from her mouth in alarm. "I...I just drank..."

"Satyr wine," Julie laughed. "About 75 percent of it is semen, gifted directly from Lord Pan himself. The rest is sugar, grape juice, and a dash of my breast milk."

Sharon looked back at the bottle, "What...what now?"

The satyress squatted on her haunches before the girl, and kissed her on the lips. "When you smelled the bottle before, it wasn't at its full potency. Not until I contacted Pan tonight and collected his seed in exchange for my offering."

Sharon raised a curious eyebrow. "Which was?"

"Myself, of course. I milked his seed with my mouth as he ate me out."

Sharon gave a nervous nod. "Since I drank it...am I..."

Julie grinned broadly, and stroked the tips of her ears. "As soon as you smelled the consecrated wine, you began to change. You should begin to see the first sign any moment now." As soon as Julie had finished speaking Sharon felt a tingle in her chest. Her face went red with embarrassment as her nipples became erect and tented her t-shirt. "You might want to take off your clothes," Julie suggested, "Otherwise they'll be ruined, and it's always much more fun to see the transformation happen."

The sudden tugging and pulling at Sharon's breasts snapped her back to reality. She shook her head in panicked confusion as rationality tried to reassert itself. When that failed, she jumped up and bolted from the room. She had no idea where to go, could barely remember where her shoes and keys and purse were. Aimlessly, she ran through the house, with the satyress that was her roommate close behind, pleading with her to stop.

The agony of her expanding breasts reached a fever pitch. Sharon cried out in agony and arched her back as she yanked off her top, while her mammaries took care of her bra, shredding it down the middle. She watched in stunned shock (and strangely enough, panty-dampening pleasure) as they inflated with each exhalation. Sharon slumped against the back door, panting as her new globes rose and fell. They were easily DD cups, possibly larger. They showed no sag, and seemed impossibly firm, though they were completely real. They look much nicer than the B's I had before, she idly thought...

The nipples had thickened, now protruding nearly an inch erect from the tips. A trickle of milk dribbled slowly from the tips, and Sharon stroked a fingertip in the stream. She brushed the extended bud accidentally, and was rewarded with incredible sensation. Her nipples had the sensitivity of clits now, and she found it hard to restrain herself from rubbing them as she sampled her own breast milk. She found it sweet, silk-smooth, and wholly intoxicating.

"Enjoying yourself," she heard from the open kitchen entrance. She wearily looked up to see Julie walking slowly in, moving in an impossibly sexy sway. Impossible for a human, that is.

Sharon suddenly became aware of a growing ache in her new breasts. "Ow...Julie...my breasts..."

The satyress smiled. "I know. You need to be milked, and soon." She crouched down easily on her goat legs, and licked her lips. "Let me help you, sister."

Julie's lips edged closer to Sharon's pouting nipple, and she wondered what it would feel like to have them sucked and milked. She wondered if she should, or even if it mattered anymore. Whether she should, or whether it mattered, was irrelevant to her anymore. Sharon felt the need, the craving, to be milked by the full lips of this beautiful creature before her. Her hands pulled the satyress' head into her breast. "Julie...I need it so bad..."

Julie's lips wrapped around her right nipple, nibbling gently as she sucked the bud inside her mouth, the faintest contact sent Sharon into euphoric pleasure, and she grasped the kitchen counter while Julie urged the sweet milk from her enlarged teats. Julie looked up as she suckled, a pleased glimmer in her eyes, and rewarded Sharon by cupping her other breast, pinching and rubbing the nipple. The changing woman shuddered in ecstasy, losing her balance as shockwaves of unfiltered delight raged through her body. Sharon reached down for one of Julie's lactating breasts, wanting to reciprocate. The motion caused the satyress to stop, much to Sharon's displeasure.

"Please, Julie," she moaned breathlessly, "don't stop. I...I just wanted...to touch you."

A sly smile crossed Julie's face. "Let me give you a quick lesson on satyr lovemaking, Sharon. Surely you heard me moaning while I nursed at you?"

Her surprise was readily apparent. "No. No, I didn't." She shrugged. "Guess I was moaning too loud. It just felt so...I've never felt anything that good. Not even sex."

Julie snickered. "That was sex, Sharon and it gets better. See, anything a satyr does to pleasure their partner gives them near-equal pleasure. As I sucked your breasts, I felt almost all your pleasure. That's why satyrs spent so much time making love to their fellow satyrs."

Sharon blinked. "Incredible. So, how am I so far?"

"Awesome and delicious, too. You taste just like a satyr." Sharon nodded in response, not sure completely how to feel about that. "There's more. The more we have sex, and play, and create, and laugh, and just enjoy ourselves, the longer we're sustained in this world. It's our food, our drink, or health care plan. As long as we continue to live like satyrs, we're effectively immortal."

Sharon was too stunned to respond.

"That's the other reason I'm not impatient to have you touch me...yet," Julie continued. "There'll always be time for you to tend to my pleasure. For now," the satyress squeezed both of Sharon's breasts, "let me attend to yours, sister." In one swift motion, she wrapped her mouth around Sharon's saliva-slicked nipple, intensifying her sucking and fondling.

Sharon lost herself in the pleasure, idly pondering what immortality would feel like. "Julie...don't stop...don't ever stop..."

Julie eventually guided Sharon's hand into her own vagina, which she eagerly fingered. She felt her clit swell in size, along with the height and depth of her slit. Her pubic hair thickened and spread into a lush growth of coarse, curly fur, marching slowly down her moistened thighs.

Sharon counted time by her orgasms, losing track of both somewhere in the forties. When the sensations finally eased, she opened her eyes to see Julie, obscenely licking a strand of milk from her lips.

"Sharon...you're becoming so beautiful." The satyress guided her attention along her changing body, and Sharon saw the deepened tan to her skin, saw her transformed genitals buried in a forest of fur that grew wild down along her firmer thighs, felt the slight points of her ears through the lengthened mane of sweaty brown hair.

"You're becoming one of us, Sharon," Julie whispered, pausing to kiss her deeply. Sharon felt no need but to kiss her as well. "I will never leave you, my sister satyr. Come, Pan waits for us."

Sharon thought of Pan suddenly, and a bit of her human apprehension returned. "Julie...this is still so sudden. Can we...I mean, before we meet Pan...can you...?"

A broad smile crossed the satyress' lips. "I'd be honored to." She led Sharon into the living room, kissing her as she gently eased her onto the couch.

"Sharon," Julie whispered her voice husky and sensual, "you're a satyress."

Sharon licked her lips. "I'm...I'm a satyress."

Julie crouched on the floor before her, her black nostrils quivering as she inhaled Sharon's sexual scent. Sharon didn't realize it, but her transformed crotch let off a musky scent into the air that would arouse anyone, even another satyr, beyond belief. Julie drank the aroma, that savory perfume of a satyress in heat, and felt the fur of her crotch and thighs dampen with need. Her lover gently spread Sharon's furry thighs, and leaned close to her crotch, heating her puffy slit with her breaths. "Now, Sharon, learn what it is to be one of us." Julie began a slow but steadily increasing licking and sucking, while Sharon moaned and fondled her own breasts. She came even more frequently, more intensely, than before. Human sensations simply could not compete anymore.

Somehow, through it all, Sharon felt herself transform once more

"You're going to love this one," Julie said, "It's a shame, though."

"What?" Sharon asked, her body tingling.

"In the morning you won't remember any of this..."

---

The buzz of the alarm clock woke Sharon from her sleep. She slapped her human hand on the clock, shutting it off. She opened her eyes and tried to remember what she had done last night. The whole evening was a blur. What really confounded her; however, was the glasses of milk o her nightstand.

Sharon's hazy eyes focused on the two glasses of milk, resting invitingly on her nightstand. She "humphed," and reached out for one, sniffing at the drink. She wasn't sure how long they'd been out, but they didn't smell the least bit rancid.

Tentatively, she sipped from one of the glasses, smiling at the taste. She quickly polished the first glass off, and took the other with her when she left her bedroom. It took her a moment to realize she'd forgot a robe; it just didn't occur to her to clothe herself. She resumed the journey after putting a robe on (though she didn't tie up the sash).

Julie was waiting downstairs, her bare feet stretched over the side of the recliner. "Hey, party girl. Sleep well?"

"Yeah...I guess," Sharon murmured, scratching her forehead as she took another generous gulp of milk. "Did I have fun last night?"

Julie gave her a knowing smirk, "You mean, you don't remember?"

Sharon shook her head absently. Now her legs were starting to itch...

"Don't worry about it. Relax, enjoy your day off".

Sharon blinked, "Day off?"

"Your job called; they had a power problem, and told you not to worry about coming in. You'll still get paid for the day," Julie said an inward "thank you" on Sharon's behalf; Pan took care of his own.

"Wow. Cool," Sharon set about the task of chilling out (after finishing that delicious milk), and spent most of the day unwinding with Julie and alone.

During the day, Sharon felt a growing craving, and finally decided to satisfy it.

Julie noticed Sharon in deep thought later that afternoon, "Something on your mind?"

"Not really. I've just been thinking. I have this odd craving to play my old musical instrument."

Julie smiled, "What did you used to play?"

Sharon replied, "I haven't played since I was a kid, but I was pretty good with a flute."

Julie couldn't contain her glee at hearing that news, "Really? Could you play for me, Sharon?"

"Well, I don't know. I'm really out of practice."

Julie clasped her hands and crossed her legs, putting on her best begging face, "Please? For me?"

Sharon shrugged, "Why not? It's a strange day, anyway."

'You don't know the half of it, sister,' Julie thought. 'It'll make sense soon. I promise.'

Sharon adjourned to the attic (still in only her robe, to her surprise) and retrieved her black flute case. After bringing it downstairs, she wiped a thick layer of dust from the case.

"I wonder if it's still playable," she said idly, unlatching the lid. "The pads are probably moldy, and..."

Her eyes widened in shock when she opened the lid. The flute within was in pristine condition, bearing a bright luster and not a hint of storage mold or tarnish.

"Unbelievable," Sharon gasped. Julie just grinned mischievously, knowing where the spit and polish had come from.

Sharon readied her flute, and mentally reviewed the notes in her mind. Just before playing her first note in years, she looked past the instrument at her friend and roommate. "Don't be disappointed."

Julie shook her head. "I won't be."

Sharon's first breath struck a smooth, even note, and every one thereafter continued the flowing symphony. She normally stayed seated during practice or performance, but now the emotion of her notes swept her to her feet. Sharon danced around the room as she played, shaking the sash loose from her robe as she made her graceful strides.

Her chest (slightly amplified from the evening prior, though Sharon had yet to notice) bounced free of the open robe with her movements; she was dancing exposed in front of her roommate and the neighborhood and she couldn't have cared any less.

Julie relaxed on her side, lost in her beautiful notes. The satyress was the first to notice the strange effect Sharon's music was nurturing.

Julie looked past the dancing musician, through the open window.

It didn't take long for a crowd to gather outside, entranced by the music and enraptured by the show. Julie was a bit surprised to see the group of four women, glassy-eyed and pressing their breasts against the window as they listened and ogled Sharon. Julie decided to have a little fun with them; her decision was cinched when one of them began working her hand inside her skirt. The other three followed suit on their own volition.

With a thought, Julie called forth some of her special powers.

'Join us,' Julie thought at the girls at the window. However, before the girls could try and come inside Sharon caught sight of them at the window and let out a shriek. She dropped the flute and ran out of the room.

"Wait, Sharon," Julie called out, "Come back! That was beautiful!"

But Sharon kept running. She wanted to get to her bedroom and lock herself inside.

Sharon dashed into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. She locked the door and slumped down, her back to the door. She didn't know what had gotten into her. Dancing nude in front of her roommate by a window? Unbelievable!

"Sharon!" Julie said, knocking at the door, "Let me in, please. I can explain it all. We need to talk."

"Go away," Sharon said, wanting to block everything out for the moment.

"Your music was beautiful, Sharon. Just like you. I want to share something special with you, Sharon. I'm offering you an amazing experience that you'll never forget, but you have to trust me. Please, open the door."

Sharon decided to remain silent and ignore Julie.

Sharon panted in fright and exhaustion as she pressed against the door, clutching her robe across her bare chest in sudden shame. She couldn't remember what she'd just been doing, or why she was so wet and feverish, even in the aftermath of her humiliation...

The voice on the other side shocked her attention back to what currently passed for reality. "Sharon?"

She couldn't bring herself to answer. Sharon didn't know if the next words out of her mouth would be a curse, or an invitation.

"You need time. I understand, Sharon," Sharon heard her say softly, almost sadly, through the door. "I'll be downstairs when you're ready." The sound of footsteps on the creaking stairs, audible long after they should have been, told her Julie was leaving her be for the moment.

Ready for what?! Sharon anxiously thought. She was thoroughly confused, about the amorous thoughts she was having toward Julie, on why she was exposing herself to the whole neighborhood, and why removing her robe and walking around naked felt so...right.

She paced unclothed in the darkness for the next several hours, alone with her strange thoughts and the weird aches in her ankles, ass, and temples, until heard the creaking stairs once again. Julie was returning.

"Sharon?" Julie's voice called through the door, "Are you OK in there? Do you want to talk? I can answer your questions."

Sharon sat on the bed and leaned over slightly. She had many questions, but did she trust Julie to give honest answers? With all that had happened, could she trust anyone?

Sharon said, "What's happening to me?"

"It's nothing to be scared of, Sharon. You're becoming more beautiful, more sexy. You're growing stronger, quicker." She paused for a second's breath. "You're becoming immortal, Sharon."

Sharon let herself cry at the overwhelming weight of it all. "Julie...this is too much...I'm scared."

"Sharon...open the door," Julie replied, her voice honey smooth. "I'll show you what's happening, and what you're becoming."

Her fear and curiosity warred for a moment, until the need to understand overcame her. Sharon took the scant few steps toward the door, unlocked it, and opened it and saw Julie, nude, standing next to... well, someone unusual.

"Who's this?" Sharon asked, astounded.

"I am Pan," the man said, "And I have come to calm your fears and answer your questions. Come, join us and we shall feast!"

"Feast?"

"I ordered pizza," Julie said.

"There is nothing to fear," Pan reiterated, "I will explain everything and then we will welcome you into our family."

Weirdness aside, Sharon found something about the man called Pan...and about Julie...strangely inviting. No, that wasn't it...it was alluring, sexy. She couldn't resist if she wanted to (which she didn't).

Sharon followed them downstairs to the living room, noticing through her tingling aches and sudden wetness that the furniture had all been moved to one side of the room. Pan took a seat on the bare floor just as the front doorbell rang.

"Can you get that, Sharon?" Julie asked. "I'll make some drinks for us."

Sharon looked back over at Pan, who gave her a solemn nod. "Go ahead. They're already paid for."

"But...I'm naked."

Pan raised an eyebrow. "Does that matter?"

She shrugged, and crossed the living room to the door, oblivious to Julie's moans emanating from the kitchen. She opened it, and stood in all her naked glory, staring at a pizza delivery boy hauling six pies.

"Um...uh...pizza...wow."

Sharon smiled, and took the boxes from his hands. "Thanks," she said sweetly, handing the food to Pan. Her attention turned back to the delivery boy. "Here's your tip," she moaned, pulling him into a deep kiss as her hands undid his pants and stroked his erection.

Pan and Julie watched in delight as Sharon jerked the stunned driver off in full view of the neighborhood, quickly bringing him to climax. He staggered from the porch, murmuring a "thank you" as Sharon smiled seductively and closed the door.

When she turned around, she saw the satyrs Julie and Pan, now as they truly were.

"Oh my God," Sharon whispered in awe.

"Exactly," Pan laughed. "Are you going to finish that?"

Sharon wondered for a moment what he meant, until she looked at her hand, coated with the pizza driver's cum. "Um...no, go ahead."

The satyr god beckoned her gently over toward him, and passionately licked her hand clean of the clinging semen. Even this barest physical contact was electric, and Sharon found herself yearning for more.

The three quickly settled in for pizza and milk, eating more than they normally would. Sharon usually couldn't finish half a pizza on her own; today, she was midway through her second pie and still hungry. She was beginning to understand why.

Once the food was gone, Sharon wiped her mouth and leaned back on her arms, intentionally/unintentionally showing off all her assets to the two satyrs. Though noting about her seemed to have physically changed, the aches were slowly giving way to a pleasurable heat, bathing her in luscious sensation. "So, what now?" she half spoke, half moaned.

Pan smiled broadly, and handed Sharon her flute. "Would you honor me with your music?"

"Oh... sure. I warn you, I'm not very good."

"We shall see," Pan said.

Sharon took the flute and began to blow into the mouthpiece. Sweet sounds of music came from the instrument as Sharon played it for all it was worth. What began as a simple recital was turning into the flowing dance festival from earlier in the day as she, Julie, and Pan danced to her beautiful music. Eventually Sharon closed her eyes and took in the sensations she felt as she played.

When the last note fully dissipated, Sharon opened her eyes slowly, almost dreamily.

She saw no sign of Julie or Pan, or even the house! She stood naked in a rich forest, carrying only her flute. Sounds of birds and animals echoed all around her.

Confused by this sudden change of locale, Sharon took the only option available to her; she walked.

Each step revitalized her, worked out the kinks in her aching muscles and bones. Being naked under the sunlight, in the fresh air of the forest...it felt right to her. Part of her hoped she'd never find a way out.

Sharon had been walking - and at times running, simply because she found that physical exertion now seemed to make her feel good - for several hours when she reached a clearing in the forest. Though she did not feel tired - in fact she had never felt more full of energy - she decided that it would be a good place to stop for a while whilst she gathered her thoughts.

She lay down on the thick grass that carpeted the floor of the clearing and considered her situation. Though what had happened to her was so strange, it still seemed right to her. She felt that she could happily spend the rest of her life wandering naked through the forest, with the warm sunlight filtering through the trees.

'But it can't always be warm and sunny here,' she reminded herself. 'Wherever this is, and even if it's someplace magical, it must occasionally be cold and wet. Besides, there are people back home who will be worried about my disappearance: my family, my friends, my boyfriend. But since I have no idea where I am, or how to get back home from here, there's not much point in worrying about that now. It's funny how well I found I could play the flute after so long an interval. I feel like playing it again.'

Sharon raised her flute to her lips and began to play. The tune that came into her head, and that her fingers seemed to pick out almost of their own volition, was not one that she had ever heard before. It was hauntingly beautiful, and yet at the same time it had a wild, pagan quality to it.

Sharon found herself riding the ebb and flow of her own music, charming herself with the notes and melodies produced without thought or bias. She felt her boundless energy poured like a siphon from her body, through her fingers and breath, transformed into the sweetest music she'd ever heard by her flute. Never in her greatest moments had she played this well. 'I'm getting better. Maybe that means I'm becoming more like Julie.'

As she played, and pondered, becoming like her satyress friend seemed less of a thing to be feared. Memories of the previous night slowly unveiled themselves, of her changing body and cresting sexual appetites, of how good it felt to let go of human mores and just enjoy pleasure...

Sharon's notes grew in pitch and intensity, mimicking the heat that spread through her breasts, crotch, ears, and temples. Though she kept her eyes closed, she could feel the slow growth of her mammaries, the expansion from modest mounds into firm, full, and large globes of sensitive, creamy flesh. The flow of milk within her untapped itself once more, and her nipples erected themselves into nearly two inch long, leaking nozzles of clit-like sensitivity. Sharon swam through luscious memories of Julie nuzzling her nipples, and the wetness it produced in her crotch triggered the next phase.

The music of the flute rose in tempo as Sharon's neatly trimmed bush thickened and grew coarser, covering her slightly expanded slit in a sea of curly brown pubic fur. Prickling assaulted her legs as the fur made a slow crawl along the inside of her wet thighs, matted down by sweat and sexual lubrication that threatened to permanently intoxicate Sharon in its musky animal cloud.

Sharon pressed on with her melodies, her rising sexual hunger altering her music along with her body. She reached the climax of her solo as tiny points of her ears poked through her mane of hair.

With this indulgence, this acceptance, Sharon found herself changed as she had been before. Still, a dull, yet strangely arousing ache at her temples told her she was not yet finished. She worked her fingers and breath, unsure if she was playing a song or making love to her flute (perhaps for her, each was now the other) while two tiny bumps made their presence known at her temples, painlessly parting the skin as they protruded. They were small but noticeable, definitely the first stage of what would become a grand pair of horns.

Her diminishing body heat told her the changes were over, for now. Sharon didn't even consider the alteration of her body a problem, at least for the moment. Instead, her attention was locked on continuing to play her flute.

Even though her changes were over for now, Sharon still felt the desire to play her flute. Feeling an intense musical passion overtake her, Sharon blew as hard as she could into the musical instrument, resulting in a heavenly note, and then...

*CRACK*

"Shit," Sharon snipped, "I broke some pads!"

Sharon tried to play the beautiful notes again, but they wouldn't play. The broken pads made the flute only produce horrible sounds, if any. Unable to play, the music stopped. And since the music was stopped her body began reversing. The reshaping tingles and heat Sharon had felt in her body began to subside almost immediately upon the cessation of her music. Worst yet, she could feel other forces at work within her, and watched her breasts slowly begin deflating. 'Shit! I'll change back into a human if I don't do something quick!'

As she had seemingly already accepted her fate (and had even begun to embrace it), Sharon ran around the forest, searching for some way to keep her music and her transformation going. She began to tire by the time she found the clear, babbling river, and the plethora of reeds standing tall and proud along the bank. She could almost feel the light bulb snapping to life above her head. 'Pan made his Pan Pipes from river reeds! Maybe I can do the same!'

With eager haste, and a dash of divine inspiration (some might say madness), Sharon snapped off six of the reeds, and began working them to appropriate lengths and thickness. She bound them together with nearby vines, and proudly eyed her finished Pan Pipes.

"Here goes nothing," she said, nervously eyeing her shriveling crotch fur as she lifted the pipes to her mouth and began to play, trying to produce that beautiful sound. However, try as she might, she couldn't make the impromptu flute work very well. Mostly sour notes sprang from it, and occasionally Sharon would hit a few nice notes in a row (causing her nipples to spring erect briefly), but the more she tried to make the flute work, the worse her music sounded, and the more her changes receded.

Eventually Sharon gave up and tossed the pipes into the water, allowing them to be carried away. She sat by the bank of the water and quietly sobbed as her breasts shrank back to their modest size, her crotch fur shriveled back to her normal styling, and the would-be horns on her forehead pushed back into her head.

Sharon wandered disconsolately through the forest. Now that she was fully human again, the surge of optimism and confidence that had accompanied her changes had dissipated, and the forest no longer seemed such a welcoming place. The sun had gone in, and a chill breeze blew, raising goosebumps on her naked flesh. She wondered whether dangerous wild animals might lurk in the forest depths: bears, maybe, or wolves.

Then she heard the sound of piping, high and clear, and her heart lifted. Perhaps it was Julie, or even Pan. She headed towards the sound.

Emerging on the bank of a stream which probably flowed into the river she had seen earlier, she saw a satyr sitting, his goat legs dangling in the water. He looked up iy surprise when he saw her, and ceased his playing. "Hello," he said. "A human is a very rare visitor here."

"Well, I'm not a human by choice," Sharon said. "I was in the process of becoming a satyress, when the pads of my flute broke and I started to regress. I tried to fashion myself pan-pipes from reeds growing by the river, but I lacked the skill. Please, might I borrow your pipe for an hour or two?"

"Human, you know not what you ask," the satyr said. "These are my pipes, I cannot give them up."

"I just need them for a little while," Sharon said, wanting to restart her transformation before she forgot how good it felt and therefore became resistant to going through with it. "I'll stay right here with them and I'll be careful with them."

"Forget it, human. I'm not falling for your trick."

"What trick? I'm being serious!"

"A likely story. I know your type, human. Do you realize how many attractive human females have approached me over the years making the same request you are now? You foolish humans should have learned the answers by now."

"I'm not trying to trick you. I just want the pipes so I can become a satyress."

"Enough lies, human. Be gone!"

And then the satyr began to play a little tune on his pipes, and the music that came forth caused Sharon to become horny. The satyr didn't expect his idle tune to have quite the effect it did on Sharon. Neither, for that matter, did Sharon. Each note struck against Sharon's libido, drawing the buried heat to the surface. She began losing track of all thoughts not related to sex, and the beautiful naked satyr before her wasn't helping matters. Still the satyr played, intentionally oblivious to the effect he was having on the human before him. Sharon moaned as she cupped her breasts and fingered her nipples, moving her fingers down into her moist pubic hair.

When she gasped at the first contact with her clit, finally the satyr looked up, and saw her fingering herself. "Human! Why do you remain?"

Sharon licked her dry lips as she continued her self-exploration. "You know why I'm here. I want to be a satyress."

"And YOU already know my answer. I will not help you!" He returned to his music.

Sharon pouted for just a moment, until a plan formed in her head. She knew what would convince this arrogant satyr to gift her "Perhaps I can offer you something," Sharon said, interrupting the satyr's music.

"You have nothing that interests me," the satyr said, "Now this is your last warning: be gone!"

"But if you do me the honor of letting me use your flute, I'll do you a favor... a special favor..."

"I need no favors. Go!"

Sharon rolled her eyes; satyrs could be dense, it seemed. "When I say favor, I mean a sexual favor. Let me use your pipes and I'll blow your flute, get it?"

The satyr looked confused, "You make no sense foolish human."

Sharon was counting on the satyr being as lustful as mythology suggested his race ought to be. But this particular satyr seemed a little slow on the up-take, and not to understand her offer. "I'm offering you a blowjob!" she eventually exclaimed in exasperation.

"Oh, I see," the satyr said. "Why didn't you say so in the first place? In that case, my answer is, for a blowjob you can't borrow my pipes but I'll make you a set of your own."

Sharon let loose a smile. "Deal," she said, quickly dropping to her knees.

The satyr gave her a lusty sneer as she began stroking his sheathed erection and furry sack. While she attended to getting him going (which wasn't too har...er, difficult), the satyr began plucking reeds from the nearby river. Sharon's mouth found purchase around the large head of his cock with a little difficulty. Having remembered what Julie taught her about satyr lovemaking, she refrained from touching herself in any way, instead fondling the large scrotum with one hand while the other squeezed his muscular rump. The musk from the lusty creature's fur drove her insane with desire, and it took all her will to keep her hands to his body.

While she suckled him, the satyr worked dilligently to make her a set of her own Pan Pipes, carefully scaling and binding the reeds together. He ejaculated several times, impressed with the human's ability to not only swallow the entire load of his seed, but to continue going as she did. Sharon didn't realize that her throat had widened with the drinking of the satyr's semen; she only knew that she was somehow able to slowly take another inch of his penis inside her mouth. It tickled the back of her throat as she worked her mouth slowly down to the base of his shaft, sucking him off with enhanced vigor.

Hours later, Sharon's set of Pan Pipes were finished, though the mischievous satyr didn't let her know that until he came one last time. Sharon let the sweet nectar flow smoothly down her throat, and was genuinely disappointed when the flow finally trickled to nothing. "Uuhhhh..." she moaned as she removed herself from the satyr's shaft. "Mmmm, that was incredible."

Again, the satyr eyed her quizzically. "You...you do desire this."

"What was your first clue?" she laughed, reaching for the freshly assembled set of Pipes. Sharon took her own set of pipes and blew into them, hoping for music. Instead she wound up with noise. The pipes squealed and shrieked high-pitched warbles in between the sounds of air escaping the pipes. "They don't work," Sharon said, dismayed.

"Of course they don't," the satyr said, "They haven't been properly blessed. For such a hopeful human you sure don't think things through, do you?"

"Spare me the insults and tell me how to get these pipes blessed."

"I can't believe that you thought blowing into some river weeds would cause magic. How dense are you?"

Sharon puffed in dismay and took her pipes and turned to leave the arrogant satyr. She'd find a way to bless the pipes herself. She left, intent on looking for anyone else but him to help her.

"Hey, wait! Don't go just yet!"

She ignored him and continued to walk.

"You'll never find Pan if you're all in a stew!"

Sharon waved him off and didn't look back as she re-entered the forest.

She heard a grunt of arrogance. "Suit yourself, human."

It was still dark, and rather foreboding, but Sharon pressed on. She felt an urgent need to find Pan with haste, and so she ran as best she could along the narrow dirt path. She found herself rapidly becoming winded, but worse, she found herself absolutely lost. With her breath gone, she slumped against a tree stump, huffing and puffing to get her wind back. She examined the (for now) useless pipes in her hand, wondering if she'd ever find Pan, or Julie, or anyone, for that matter.

She forced herself to fight through her fear, and formulate a plan. Sharon knelt by a tree stump and began praying, something she rarely did. "Pan, I know you're out there somewhere. I'm trying to live up to my full potential, but it's not easy. I could really use some help here!"

Sharon stood up and chided herself for being so foolish. As if talking to a tree stump would make her wishes come true! She began walking again, looking for a suitable place to stop and sleep for the night. Eventually Sharon bedded down in a little clearing and fell right asleep, hoping tomorrow would be a better day. If she wasn't going to be able to become a satyress, at least she hoped she'd wind up back at her home.

"Courage, Sharon!" Pan said to her in her dream. "Don't despair. Faint heart never won fair - um - transformation."

"But how can I transform without a working musical instrument?" Sharon wanted to know. "If I can't become a satyress, then I'd be better off back home."

Sharon called out for Pan, but he had gone and left her alone in her dream. The dream became cloudy and faded away, and Sharon woke up. However, instead of being in the little clearing she found herself back home in her bedroom. It seemed that she had failed Pan's test and had been sent home. Sharon wasn't sure whether she should cry, or scream, or what emotion to follow. Before her mind could decide, she shifted in bed, allowing her gaze to settle on her nightstand.

Upon it rested her Pan Pipes.

She smiled, wider each second, and happily grasped them. She danced around the room in her nakedness, knowing that all hope for that blissful existence was not yet lost.

"Thank you, Lord Pan," she sniffled joyously.

Once her happiness settled, she still had a conundrum: how to bless the pipes so she could use them to turn into a full satyress? She left her room (unrobed) intending to ask Julie for advice, but found her room empty and no trace of her around. The pizza boxes and glasses still sat in the living room from the previous night. She must still be in the Glade. After calling out of work for the rest of the week (claiming flu), Sharon began to mentally mull over the possible methods, and decided on one that might work.

Sharon had the idea that perhaps something in Julie's foot locker would help her bless the Pan Pipes. There was only one way to find out, of course. Sharon dashed to Julie's room and tried to open the locker. Of course she found it locked.

Sharon retrieved a screwdriver from her toolkit and began prying at the lock. When that didn't work she loosened the hinges and tried to pry the case open. When that didn't work, she simply gave it a good kick. That worked.

Inside the locker Sharon found an old tattered book written in some strange language. The book was in ragged shape. Bound with faded and cracked leather, each yellowed piece of bound parchment contained script indecipherable to Sharon's mind. It seemed, appropriately enough, to be some variant of ancient Greek, though she didn't have the first clue how to read it. She could easily discern the drawings within, however. Every masterful sketch depicted satyrs of both genders engaging in every act of sex known to man, and about 15 or so more most likely known only to them. It made the Kama Sutra look like a kissing primer. They were also illustrated dancing, singing, drinking, sleeping, playing, creating works of art and music, and so forth.

Sharon's mind was definitely in the gutter as she scanned the pictures, as she imagined herself doing all of the above, and more, immortal, ageless, and free...

Her escape from reverie came with a climax, as she had an orgasm right on her roommate's carpet. She didn't even realize she'd been fingering herself. Once her mind cleared from the sweet afterglow, Sharon had a plan that just might work. She remembered her friend at the local university that was majoring in Mythological Studies. Perhaps she could recruit some help in translating the text.

After a... productive... shower, Sharon dressed, cleaned up the mess from the night before, and drove off to the college. It wasn't long before Sharon arrived at the outside of a classroom. Her friend should be getting out of class at any moment.