FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

---

The Realization

“Come on." The hooded mage repeated under his breath. Sweat dripped from his brow as he listened to the cries of exotic birds chirping in the distance. The woods of the Feywilds seemed never-ending to the human, its dense and twisted woods a labyrinth he sorely wished he could escape.

“Please, just-" Grant paused to pant as he flexed his outstretched hand once more. He concentrated with all his might on the tips of his fingers. Magic exuded from his hand, the glowing energy seeping into the air in front of him. The tendrils of mana coalesced into a single form: a burning-white symbol the mage had crafted countless times over. A return spell.

“Please, please, please… Come on." The mage begged. Grant reached deep within himself for the last of his magic, desperately hoping he had enough to finalize the glyph.

Hardly any light slipped past the dense canopy of the Feywilds. Still, the small opening Grant now found himself standing in was brightly illuminated by strange and exotic plants. Bioluminescent fungi clung beneath the bark of trees as twinkling motes drifted almost weightlessly through the air. The ever shifting light sources sent a myriad of twisting shadows around the mage. As such, it was no wonder that the concentrating mage didn't notice the satyr making its way towards him.

The fey creature moved with the grace of one who had spent their entire life within the labyrinthian forest. Hooved feet moved deftly from one branch to the next, skipping and hopping between gnarled roots as the satyr descended.

A loincloth fluttered in the beast's wake as he slid down a particularly smooth clump of vines, sending a large tuft of glowing spores drizzling down atop the mage. Still, the robed figure continued to concentrate, his attention too fixated on the symbol in front of him to notice the satyr come to a stop in the treeline above him.

The creature cocked his head curiously, his intrigue sufficiently piqued by the hooded figure. The muscular beast swung his feet out from beneath him, the satyr's weight falling down atop the soulvine below.

“Come on!" Grant grunted a little louder, his body hunching over as he strained even harder for that last ounce of magic he needed.

The satyr frowned as he rubbed a thumb across his goatee. The creature was obviously straining itself. The forest below reeked of foreign magic, no doubt emanating from the biped below. The satyr weighed his options about how to introduce himself to the man below. In fey? No, best to stick to the common he had just heard the mage use.

“You look lost, my dude." The satyr spoke aloud, his hooved legs swinging back and forth as he stared down at the exasperated mage below. The robed figure twisted his head upwards to face the creature, hood whipping backwards to reveal a rather plain looking face.

A human. Just as Fenn had assumed. There wasn't a single race in the fey that spent their time scribbling arcane runes on soulvine. The satyr cocked his head as he turned his attention away from the man. Instead, Fenn peered at the glowing symbol that still hung in the air behind the mage's raised hand. It looked like the human couldn't even finish the sigil he had started, as its magic had already begun to dissipate.

“L-Lost?" The human scoffed, his confident posture shadowed by the hesitation in his voice. “No, I'm-"

Inexperienced. One of the satyr's pointed ears twitched reflexively as he came to the sudden conclusion. The pieces of the puzzle slowly clicked together in the beast's head as he let a small smile slip past his cleft lips.

“Definitely lost." Fenn nodded. “Relax, most rooks go through this a few times before they really figure out portal-hopping."

“Rooks?" Grant asked. The mage had always been one to press others for more information. It had been a habit he'd picked up in school, his scholarly duties having trained his inquisitive nature.

"Y'know. Rookies." Fenn explains, suddenly pushing off the vines to land with a heavy thud next to the mage. The satyr's body was much larger than that of the human's, both in size and mass. The bare skin of the male's back rippled with muscle as he rose, horns angling downwards towards Grant. "Like yourself."

"I-I'm not a rookie." The mage refused, the loose sleeves of his uniform crumpling unevenly as he folded his arms. "I'm a mage of Quel'The-"

"Oh, I'm sure you are, bro." The satyr rolled his eyes, not bothering to listen to the rest of the human's well-practiced speech. "That's why you're here, right? Probably gathering some reagents for some high-level spell?"

Fenn watched as the mage's hands reflexively moved to a pouch at his hip before freezing in place. The satyr smiled as he leaned against the particularly large tree beside them, his burly arms folding over the other to mimic Grant's own posture.

"Maybe..." Grant muttered, gritting his teeth as he kept his gaze fixed on the knotted roots below them.

"Then you're done here, right? Surely a master mage like yourself would have enough magic on tap to whisk himself back to whatever realm his college was from." Fenn grinned, raising a hand to scratch below his horn. "Right?"

The human didn't even bother to respond. His shoulders sank as he nodded slowly. What little composure Grant still had began to quickly dissipate. It was true. He didn't have a single bit of magic left in his body.

"I thought." The mage began, his voice choking a bit as he returned the satyr's gaze. "I thought I'd have enough."

Fenn blinked in surprise, actually taken aback by the honesty coming from the mage in front of him. This was the first human the satyr had met who had actually opened up to him this quickly.

"Oh. Well." Fenn blinked, letting his arms drop to his side as he pushed off the tree. "You don't. I'm sure you know that now. Running out never feels great, but you're not going to find any leylines in the Feywilds that'll help. Humans can't drain fey reserves."

"I know." Grant muttered under his breath. The lectures were still fresh on his mind. The assignment had all seemed rather easy, although the reagents were... Well beyond what the student was willing to pay. It seemed so much easier just to hop planes and take a few samples than to fork over his hard-earned gold on such ridiculous fees!

A quick portal spell in and out. That was all it was supposed to be. But now he was stuck in the Feywilds; one of the most dangerous and untamed planes in Existence.

Grant almost jumped when a heavy hand slapped down on the his shoulder, squeezing the human's shoulder tightly.

"Hey." Fenn began, pausing to snort. He nodded his head at the mage as he gave the human a charismatic smile. "What did I say? Relax, man. You're in good hands."

"W-What?" Grant sputtered, pulling slightly away from the hand still weighing down atop his shoulder. "I'm not sure I-I should be taking help from-"

"An awesome guy like me? A satyr?!" The beast stood proudly, his bare chest flexing with pride as he stared the human down. "C'mon, dude. Either you let me help you or you find yourself predator to the rest of the Wilds. It's pretty unforgiving out there, and I doubt you want to spend the rest of your life as a tree."

A… A tree?!

Fenn swallowed tightly as he stared up at the satyr in front of him. His face was almost human in shape, although the half-muzzled smile quickly reminded Grant of who he was dealing with.

The mage had only read briefly on the subject of satyrs. They were rather migratory creatures, although that was partly due to their bizarre use of portal magic to create isolated domiciles within the Feywilds. The beasts had a certain negative stigma amongst humans; their kind once considered beasts of leisure, pleasure, and… Other things.

Grant swallowed tightly as he stared at the large male before him. The satyr's ear twitched as the mage slowly nodded.

“Okay." Grant said at last, trying hard not to focus too much on the meaty chest before him. Hooved feet clopped excitedly as the satyr turned around, a hearty laugh filling the tranquil forest.

“Okay!" Fenn repeated, his arms swinging wide on either side of him before clasping together. The loud clap made Grant jump in surprise, the noise magnified by an intense energy that emanated from the satyr. The roots of the forest floor before the satyr slowly began to pull apart. The gnarled branches and wood uncurled as a bubbling light pushed out from below. A fey portal had been awoken, and as Fenn turned around to face Grant, the mage felt his confidence dissipate once more.

“You ready?" The satyr asked, reaching out and grabbing the mage by the arm. Before Grant could protest the large beast had already begun yanking him closer. The human fumbled for the appropriate words as his face was pressed into the fey beast's chest. Heavy arms curled around him as Grant felt his center of gravity moving out from beneath him.

They were falling now, their bodies bathed in the light of the portal. Only the beginning of the mage's yell echoed through the thick forest, the latter being cut off as they disappeared completely. The roots relaxed back into place, their slow movements covering the feylight below.

The forest was quiet for a moment. No creature dared to stir after a batch of soulvine had opened. Predators and prey alike used portals as a means of transporting across the fey, and the awakening could mean certain doom to those caught nearby. Eventually the wisps, motes, and various beings of the wylds fluttered and chirped back to life. Whatever had awoken the soulvine was gone now...

Surely it had found what it had wanted.

---

The Recourse

“So you came here for just a bit of Mafthistle and Crispernseed?" The satyr cocked his head as he leaned back in his chair. The soft glow of orange light illuminated the wall behind him, the fungal wallpaper completely illuminating Fenn's living room. A quick puff of smoke escaped the beast's lips as he paused, a freshly lit blunt pressed between his lips. “You humans always love tryin' to make shit valuable, you know that? I don't blame you for just comin' here and taking what you need."

Grant was barely paying attention. The human sat in the middle of the satyr's living room, their entry into the home having been from the clustered roots that qualified as Fenn's 'ceiling'. The satyr sat at the far end of the room atop a throne-like seat. Two large tables sat on either side of the muscled male. Their wooden surfaces were completely filled with pitchers of wine, chalices, books, trinkets, and anything else that pleased the satyr. Several thin fabrics hung from the roots above, including a series of pulley systems fastened from glittering ropes. It would take Grant hours to uncover all the mysteries of this room, but the mage doubted he had the time.

“Honestly dude, what're they even teaching you there?" Fenn coughed as he paused, reaching a burly hand up to pull the cigar out from his lips. He snorted a few more times as thick smoke wafted from his nostrils. “That's some wasted potential."

“You... You live here?" Grant asked with awe, eyes still gazing around the well-lived in realm. It was far bigger than his own dormitory, a place he had been forced to share with three other mages. While his own room was left in an almost permanent state of chaos, Fenn's domain somehow seemed oddly organized. Sure, roots and other plants sprouted from the walls and floor, but it all felt so natural here. Even now, Grant was sitting cross legged on a rather large 'pillow'. The watery sack was most definitely a plant, yet the skin of the strange fabric felt like that of a waterbed back on his realm. The mage felt the 'seat' slosh beneath him as he continue to gawk, taking in all of the cozy home that he could.

“Fuck yeah, I live here." Fenn grinned. The satyr's cigar angled upwards as he did so, making his smug expression all the more grandiose. “You spend long enough in the fey and you learn how to make it feel comfortable. It's either that, or…"

The satyr reclined even further in the large chair. The cushions beneath his ass seemed to be bound by some type of flax, the soft leaves bundled within making a delightful crinkling as Fenn leaned into them. A waft of smoke pushed towards Grant as the beast exhaled, causing the younger man to cough briefly.

“O-Or?" The mage asked, wiping at his eyes with a loose sleeve. The smell of cigar smoke clung to his nose. It had an earthen and damp musk to it, its scent almost demanding the human's attention.

“Eaten. Poisoned. Turned to plant, root, monster." Fenn shrugged nonchalantly as he spoke. “The Feywilds have a certain way of making it all pretty enjoyable though."

“Enjoyable?!" Grant frowned as he asked the question. The mage had never considered being eaten to be something one would find a pleasurable experience.

“Yeah, bro. There's a reason strugglethorn isn't called stranglethorn. It's easy to avoid the fates you don't want, though. Course you gotta have a bit of magic up your sleeve as insurance." Fenn tapped a hoof against the moss carpet as he explained. “Something you're lacking quite a bit, aren't you?"

“Yeah." The mage sighed. He watched as the satyr's furry legs jostled up and down, the repetitive clopping following a quick paced rhythm. “It'd be… Greatly appreciated if you could send me back to my plane, Mr. Fenn. I-"

“H-Holy crap." Fenn suddenly choked. The satyr's hoof had stopped its beat completely as he doubled over in his seat. The cigar slipped past his lips and fell to the ground, a bit of smoldering ash scattering about. “Don't… Don't ever call me 'mister' again. You got that?"

“I-" Grant began, pausing as he watched the satyr raise a hoof to stomp out the rest of the glowing blunt. “Yeah, okay… F-Fenn."

“Geez, you're treating me like I'm some elder or something. I ain't your teacher. I'm just the guy who found an idiot lost in the fey." Fenn muttered to himself. His ear flicked impatiently as he stared down at the remnants of his half-finished cigar. “Try and do something nice for once and this is the thanks I get? Now you've got me feeling all old."

“Uh…" Grant shuffled in his 'seat' as he watched the satyr above him try and settle back down. The mage wasn't entirely sure how to treat the situation, but he did feel a bit bad about… Showing too much respect? The wizard-in-training had never met someone like this before. “I-I'm sorry?"

“Guh, you should be sorry." Fenn grumbled, brow furrowing as he stared at the confused-looking mage. “Now I'm not in the mood at all."

“The mood?" The mage frowned. This was just getting more confusing for the poor human. “Sorry if I'm asking too many questions but… What kind of mood are you-"

“To fuck!" Fenn gestured towards Grant as he let out an exasperated sigh. “I was all gearing up for it and everything! And then you had to go and start talking to me like I could be your dad or something."

“Oh." Grant blinked, sinking back into his seat as he stared at the upset satyr. It took the human more than a minute to slowly come to terms with what the feybeast had just said. Sex? With him? The robed male looked up at the man in front of him as if he was seeing him for the first time. The muscle-bound, half-humanoid, handsome beast… Wanted to fuck him?

“But... I'm just a human?" Grant asked aloud. He blinked in surprise as he realized how quickly he'd skipped over the 'man wanting to dick another man' subject. It was now far too late for the human to backpedal and pull the 'straight' card, wasn't it? “I-I just meant… You're so big! A-And I'm so-"

“What? You think I care that you're a human?" Fenn chuckled at that, his horned head shaking ever so slightly as he leaned back into his seat. “Dude, any time spent fuckin' something is time well spent."

“Oh come on." The mage found himself folding his arms as he stared at the satyr. Grant could hardly believe what he had just heard. The mage put the fact that he was being offered sex on hold to deal with the much larger issue at hand. “You're really telling me you have zero standards?"

“I've fucked flowers, my dude. What makes you think I'd care about fucking you, too?" Fenn grinned, one hand running down his side as he spoke. The satyr's thumb slid down below the his loincloth as his hand came to a stop, hooking it just so. The human watched as Fenn lifted his thumb, the fabric slowly beginning to unravel from around his waist. “Besides. I've got ways of helping guys like you catch up to beasts like me."

Grant bit his lip as he stared up at the male before him. His curiosity as a mage was winning over. How many other of his classmates had seen a satyr up close? He knew that the feybeast was teasing him with what he wanted. In truth, it wasn't the satyr's groin that had the wizard captivated.

“What… What ways?" Grant asked. The mage hated when other's lorded information over his head. His curiosity had led him down similar paths before; his desire to experience as much as he could quickly kicking in. “Charms? Enchantments?"

“Fey magic can't be as easily categorized like your 'arcane studies' can. Us feybeasts are chill to just to call it like we see it…" Fenn began, reaching his free hand out to a nearby table to blindly grasp for a silver chalice that stood atop it. The satyr gripped it by the base and slowly lifted it towards Grant. “Magic is so boring when you spend all day trying to define it."

Grant watched as Fenn's fingers released the cup with a light flourish. The chalice hovered in the space between the two men, it's momentum never truly coming to a halt. The silver rim rotated midair as the satyr brought his finger down along it.

The mage watched as a red liquid slowly began to rise out from the base of the cup. Conjuration magic? But… There were no vocational rites, no premeditated glyphs! The deep chalice continued to fill as the distinct smell of wine wafted outwards. The contents within the cup seemed secondary to the rookie as Grant continued to search for the cause of the magic.

“That's… Enchanted, right? The cup?" The human asked, turning his gaze away from the cup for the slightest of seconds to glance towards the satyr.

The satyr's legs were now spread wide, his loin completely discarded. A thick and flaccid cock sat nestled atop a pair of furred testicles. Fenn's uncut shaft flexed in excitement as Grant's eyes lingered. A small bead of pre had begun to trickle out from the satyr's shaft, his hand slowly petting the base of his fur-matted groin.

“It ain't that easy, rookie." Fenn chuckled, his hand curling into a tight grip around his cock. His fingers pressed around either side of his foreskin and slowly pulled downward, the slick head of his shaft fully revealing itself as he teased the human in front of him. “How about you put away the mental note-pad for a second, hm? I promise things will start making a helluva lot more sense when you do, bro."

“But I- Uh…" Grant began, his train of thought escaping him as the satyr slowly stood upright. Fenn's furred balls swung between his legs as the male slowly angled his cock downwards. The bead of precum now dangled over the suspended chalice, and with the slightest pinch of his fingers…

Thwip.

The pre disappeared within the almost overflowing chalice in an instant. Grant swallowed tightly as he watched the satyr slowly settle back down into his seat. The muscled feybeast rolled his shoulders as he grinned at the gawking human before him.

“I give you two options." Fenn began, hand still slowly groping and playing with his foreskin as he spoke. “You can ask me to send you home, free of charge. You can go jerk off about this whole thing in whatever miserable little domicile you call home."

Grant's lips felt dry as he kept his gaze fixated on the hardening length before him. Fenn toyed with the cock, his blackened fingers coaxing more and more pleasure from the stiffening flesh. Still, the chalice sat suspended between them. The wine slowly rotated as a tense silence filled the room.

“Or," The satyr continued, now rolling his hips into his hand as he groped himself. “You can drink from that cup, spend some quality time here, and relax. I won't lie to you, I'd rather we do the latter. It's been a long time since I've had company, and I could always use another rump around here."

“So…" Grant licked his lips as he paused. “What you're suggesting is-"

“You drink my wine. You taste a bit of 'fey' for yourself. I fuck you. Then I portal you back home." Fenn summarized quickly. “My offer stands… But it starts with you taking that chalice into your hands and drinking."

Grant turned his attention back to the rotating cup, his mind going over his options once more. Either he could go home, recharge his mana, and try and sleep next to a roommate who had yet to finish his evocation homework… Or he could stay here and get fucked?

“Well, it's… Not really much of a choice, is it?" Grant asked hesitantly, his hands reaching out to grasp the chalice. It was much heavier than he thought it'd be, the levitation spell quickly releasing beneath his touch.

The satyr laughed at that, watching as some of the wine rolled over the lip of the cup and ran down Grant's thumb. Greedy eyes watched as the mage quickly lowered his head to suck at the wine now dripping down his wrist. The human's body froze as his lips wrapped around his skin, the first of the wine pressing up against his tongue.

The alcohol trickled down the back of his throat as he swallowed, his mind slowly working to comprehend the myriad of tastes that had just landed on his taste-buds. The taste of fermented grapes was there, yes, but there was something much more potent rolling around in his mouth.

Grant didn't remain frozen for long. His tongue quickly slid up his hand as his lips desperately sucked for more wine. Grant could hardly begin to discern the pallet that teased and danced along the roof of his mouth. Fruity? Sweet? Tart? Bitter? It couldn't be every flavor… could it? Whatever it was, it was good. No doubt artificially enhanced, but by what classification of magic?

He needed further testing to come to a reasonable conclusion.

---

The Reeducation

Fenn smiled to himself as he watched the mage tip the chalice backwards. The human swallowed once, twice, three times. Each of his gulps sent a strange tingle down his spine, as if he'd just allowed a spell to slip past his abjuration magic. The tingling didn't stop either, the strange sensation slowly spreading through his mouth as he felt more and more of the nectar drip into his system.

Sucking and swallowing sounds filled the air as Grant continued to drink from the cup. Wine rolled down his neck as his consumption hastened, his heart beginning to race as unfamiliar magic coursed through him.

“I swear, you college initiates all think the same." Fenn grinned as he spoke. “You're so busy trying to figure out the magic around you that you don't spend the time to enjoy what you're really accomplishing!"

Grant continued drinking from the cup with newfound vigor. His flattening teeth scraped deep within the cup before he opened his mouth wide. The human's changed tongue rolled out of his elongating mouth, red wine lapping at his broadening nostrils.

Fenn fondled himself as he watched the beautiful sight in front of him. “When's the last time you felt this good, hm? When was the last time just you let yourself go?"

The mage shuddered as warmth bloomed beneath his uniform. The man's sandals felt too tight beneath his softening rear, his toes curling all on their own. Popping sounds rolled through Grant's lower half as he pressed his thighs together. Hairy... It all felt so hairy and soft beneath his robes.

“All those tests and professors telling you what is and what isn't. Countless hours spent studying words in a book instead of living it for yourself. No, you went down this path because you thought magic was cool." Fenn paused as he listened to Grant snort into the chalice, his nostrils no doubt flaring with excitement as he was spurred by the satyr's words. “We all did."

If Grant had taken the time to pull his changing face away from the chalice, he would have been able to watch as his figure began to expand on itself. The narrow male's frame began to shudder and pulse with each swallow. Soon enough, Grant's gulps began to strain around the tightening neck of his hood. The changing human closed his eyes as clenched hands gripped at the metal cup. He could barely make out the sound of the seams of his uniform ripping, his mind too fixated on opening his maw one last time. The man's long tongue rolled along the cool metal as he desperately lapped at the remaining nectar. Grant blinked in surprise as his tongue curled upwards, his confusion doubled by the fact that his nose now felt flat and wet. The delightful taste in his mouth clung to his very being, his body betraying his confusion as he allowed his tongue to continue its exploration of his new proto-muzzle.

Grant pulled the chalice back to reveal his shifted mouth. Fenn smiled as he watched a gasp escape the satyr's cleft lips for the first time. His mouth had pushed out into a beautiful muzzle, his twitching nose now dark and wet. Grant almost jumped as he felt his left ear flick; his silver chalice clattering to the ground. The human brought both of his hands up to his face in shock. His hair was still there, yet his ears felt as if they'd been stretched to twice their length. They seemed to twitch and swivel on their own accord, a mannerism Fenn knew quite well to be associated with a satyr's curiosity.

The mage's attention quickly changed to the density of his hands. The buzzed human let his fingers run down his muzzle with confusion before holding them up in front of his face. The digits seemed… Wider. Thicker. The back of his hands were now matted in a layer of fur which ran all the way down his forearm. Even his nails felt denser, their blackened appearance forcing Grant to second-guess if he truly was still in the same body.

The ripped clothes that still adorned Grant were proof that the mage was indeed in the same form. He had changed in a matter of minutes, his chest now equally as broad and chiseled as the satyr in front of him. Unchecked desires wafted through the mage's mind as he stared up at the fey beast before him, his gaze trained on Fenn's jutting erection.

“So tell me big guy, how's it feel to finally relax for a second and enjoy the magic?" Fenn asked. The male gripped his cock tightly and jostled it about, watching as Grant's eyes followed his every movement.

“I-Ith. Feeelth." The mage tried to speak, but his tongue kept slipping past his lips. His slurred speech felt funny to his new ears, the alien tone sending shivers down his spine. Grant had never heard the voice of the man who'd just spoken. A smile crept onto the new feybeast's lips as a random thought entered his head.

“Bet aye could s-sing better, nowww." Grant giggled as he spoke, his mind completely swimming with inhabilitated thoughts. He bet he had hooves now, just like Fenn's. Hooves that were attached to nice big fat thighs… Heavy balls resting beneath a thick foreskinned cock.

The now-changed human let his tongue roll out of his mouth as he imagined taking that shaft into his muzzle. It wasn't the first time the mage had imagined what it must've felt like to have a cock jammed down his throat.

“It's going to take you a while to figure out how to talk with that new muzzle of yours, my dude. Besides, I wasn't asking you to tell me with words." Fenn paused as he ran both his hands up the length of his cock, his fingers working to squeeze out a fat dollop of spooge. “I wanted you to show me."

Fenn wanted Grant to… Show him how he felt? That was easy!

The lightweight satyr scooted backwards as he wrapped his hands beneath his legs. Grant chuckled as he rocked backwards, his back pressing against the watery bean bag beneath him. The mage stared up at the hooved feet now hoisted above his head, his legs splayed for the satyr before him.

Fenn grinned as he stared down at the presenting male beneath him. The muscled rear had filled out wonderfully, his thick fingers moving to spread his cheeks wide. The mage had no idea what he was doing. In fact, he was only mimicking what he'd seen pornstars do in the past. The newfound satyr giggled at his own audacity, a delightful happiness welling up from deep within him.

For the first time in a long time he felt… Confident.

“Look at you." Fenn began. The feybeast's eyes were fixed on the goat tail that wagged in front of him. The cute ass grew closer as he slowly knelt to the floor in front of Grant, his hands reaching out to caress the male's hips.

“That's it. Just think of me as a friend, man." Fenn explained, his cock sliding up against the satyr's tailhole. “The kinda guy willing to help you understand… All this."

Grant shuddered as he felt that stiff shaft prod at his entrance. The satyr above was obviously toying with him, his fingers running through Grant's soft fur as Fenn continued to speak. “The first step is just… Letting go. I know there's a beast in you somewhere. Let me see it."

Let him… See it? Grant wondered for a moment about what he truly wanted out of this. Truth be told, he'd never expected to find himself half-shifted into some type of feybeast. He didn't really know how to proceed from here, but something about Fenn's words stirred within him. The human reached out towards Fenn's head, his fingers slowly wrapping around the satyr's horns.

“That's it. You want to grab something? Then grab it." Fenn continued to talk as Grant tugged at his horns. The satyr's head was brought lower, their wet noses eventually pressing together. “You want to moan? Just do it. I'm not going to judge you. I'm just the guy who's gonna give you a good time."

“In case you've never been fucked before, let me just explain how this is gonna go." Fenn smiled as he stared into Grant's eyes. He quickly leaned forward, his lips quickly pressing against the new feybeast before pulling away.

“You're going to start feeling me enter you… Just like that." The satyr explained. Grant gasped as he felt his pucker spread open, his entrance almost naturally opening for the beast atop him. Every part of his body still felt so big. The sensation almost proved too much for him, but the satyr still tightly gripped the horns in front of him. “Part of you is going to want to relax and settle down, but the other part of you is going to want m-more."

Yes. More! Grant snorted as his hips suddenly bucked on their own accord. Both of the mage's ears flicked with a sense of urgency as he felt another inch of the satyr's cock sink into him. Something about the sensation felt so good… Almost too good. He hadn't even been at this for a minute and he already felt like he wanted something buried within him at all times.

“Hah, yeah. Y-Yeah. Just like that." Fenn panted as he steadied himself against Grant. The man's hands gripped tightly around the satyr's hips; their eyes trained on the shaft slowly sinking into the plump ass between them.

The two moaned in unison as Fenn hilted within the mage. Another desire flared up within Grant, and the satyr quickly tugged the feybeast into a passionate kiss. He'd never made out with another man before, but his enthusiasm to lick and suck at the muzzle in front of him quickly made up for his lack of experience. Fenn was surprised by the sudden movements, but he quickly surrendered to the aggressive kiss. Their fervid tonguing only spurred their hips into mashing even harder into other's.

Fenn's mouth tasted of the same earthen smoke that he'd been enjoying mere moments ago. The intense musk had almost been too much for the human to handle then… But now? He couldn't get enough of it. Flat, broad teeth scraped against both flesh and tongue as they sucked. The two undulated as one, a cacophony of grunts and wet slaps filling the air.

The lovers pulled away from the kiss after Fenn began to piston his hips into the feybeast beneath him. Grant's ass rippled with each thrust from the satyr's muscular legs. The two began their slow and pleasurable ascent into abandoned rutting. A need to breed dominated their minds as they clung to one another.

“So, mage. W-What kind o-of magic was this, h-hm?" Fenn didn't bother to halt his pace as he fucked Grant. A wicked grin crept onto Fenn's mouth as he stared down at the panting satyr. His ears folded forward as he admired his handiwork; the mage having completely succumbed to his desires. The sound of heavy slapping filled the air as he pounded away, his hand reaching out to run a thumb along the human's own nubby horns. “Enchanting? Conjuration?"

“I-I don't cccare!" Grant cried out, his voice straining as Fenn's cock arched deep within him. His overstimulated prostate was sending a chorus of pleasure through his body. The shaken male had no desire left in him to analyze the sensations that now spurred him forward. “J-Just b-bbreeed me!"

Grant let out a low bleating noise as Fenn's hips pistoned even harder into him. The muscled figures rolled sharply into the other as their moans turned into animalistic cries. Fenn's dwelling was filled with the sound of their love making, their passion completely unfiltered. If it hadn't been for the jettison of cum that arched from Grant's cock, the mage might not have noticed his own orgasm. The throes of his pleasure seemed unabated by the fact that his plump balls were now emptying themselves out atop his chest. The orgasm didn't stop his ever-mounting need, nor did the sensation of Fenn's cock seizing within him halt his own grinding.

It was… Illogical to continue. Grant knew that. They'd cum, yet their humping had yet to cease. The mage felt a question well up in his throat. Shouldn't they stop? Shouldn't he be heading home?

The question never left his lips. Grant had already learned his lesson. The spent seed that collected within him was the only answer he needed. They wouldn't stop. Not yet. Fenn was far from finished with the human. It would take hours for their coupling to finish. And when the time came Grant would return to his plane as a satyr, fresh cum still leaking from his tailhole. Of course things would be different for the human now. His fresh perspective would offer him a chance to study both magic and colleagues alike in ways his classmates had only dreamed of.

In the weeks to come he'd return to Fenn often. After all, Grant had been marked by the Feywilds now. The mana that now flowed through him was wild and unpredictable... A satyr, through and through.

Grant would always treasure the first lesson Fenn had taught him…

But there were plenty more to follow.

Plenty.

---

:Cambionsicon: To be continued? :Cambionsicon:

Well met, mortal. This one certainly took me a long time to write, didn't it? I've always had a fondness for satyrs, so happy and carefree. Hopefully our young Grant here can balance his new social life with his duties as a mage in training. I'm sure Fenn's tutoring will... Help... Some of the time.

See you next time.

Cambions

Furaffinity: [https://www.furaffinity.net/user/cambions/

](https://www.furaffinity.net/user/cambions/)Sofurry: [https://cambions.sofurry.com/

](https://cambions.sofurry.com/)Twitter: https://twitter.com/cambions1