That song—why in the hell can’t you get it out of your head? You’ve tried everything, listening to something else, turning it up as loud as you could, singing the catchiest thing you can think of, but it won’t leave your brain no matter what. And worse, every time it runs through your head, the feelings just get worse, and stronger, and that makes the song even louder in your mind.

You’d come out to the woods for the peace and quiet, like you did once a year, just to clear your head and refocus on your various projects, and take some time to reflect. You really like hiking and swimming, but in the city there aren’t many places to go, so you usually rent a cabin in a different place around the state, and stay there for a week or two, for some time to decompress. This is, certainly, the most remote place you’ve ever rented, but you’d found that attractive. You’d gone off trail yesterday, exploring deep into a thick copse, and you hadn’t even realized you’d been heading towards the music, hell, you hadn’t even realized it was music until you got closer, and by then it was too late to stop yourself. You’d driven deeper into the woods, and there it was, dancing around a small spring, a satyr, playing it’s pipes along with the birds, it’s huge, thick cock erect and leaking as it did, and you were entranced.

Worse, it knew you were there, it kept looking at you over it’s shoulder, daring you to come out of hiding and dance along with him, but instead you’d turned around and run away as fast as you could, but the song hadn’t left you, it was just as loud, as though the satyr was standing in the room playing to you, and you couldn’t resist anymore. You look down, and realize that you have been dancing to the song in your head now for over a minute, and you try to calm your feet, but they don’t even respond. You have one of your hands around your cock, and you’re jacking it, feeling the primal animalism of the song crowd its way down into your soul, pushing out your rationalism, pushing out your mind, replacing it with these deep urges, this dark, unknowable core, a Dionysian instinct.

You dance all night, jacking off all the while, and finally, with the dawn, the music stops, and you are allowed to collapse. In the mirror, you see your new, wild body, your body coated with fur, beard and hair wild and overgrown, the wild animal in your eyes, your cock nearly a foot long and dribbling cum on the floor of the cabin. You feel so cramped in here, in this small space, and your break out the front door, snorting and wild, and run off into the woods, shedding the last of your clothing and your humanity as you run, eager to find your master, to join his dance, to give him your soul, your mind, your spirit.

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