Satyr Hills (Flash Commission)

Commissioned by @musclelover4826


Dan leaned lightly against a tree, his ears straining for the song. The wind had picked up as he’d climbed higher through the hills where he’d been walking, making it harder to hear, but there! Yes, that was it, a light trill, but enough. He had only been planning a short walk through the lands surrounding the greek villa he was staying in for his week of vacation, but he’d heard someone playing some strange, lilting tune, distantly on the wind. It had glued itself in his mind immediately, and he found himself desperate to find the person playing it. He trudged away from the path, and was now miles from where he’d began.

He knew he should be worried, but every time the song caught him he was again drawn to it. He also hadn’t been prepared for this long of a walk–while by no means out of shape, he was not much of an athlete–skinny, more accustomed to days in studying at the library than fields and pitches–or even long hikes like this had become. He took his glasses off to wipe sweat from his brow, thankful for the breeze to cool him down somewhat, and kept going. Half an hour later, the woods thinned slightly–he came around a trunk, and there, sitting on a wide stump was a satyr, panpipes at his lips, playing his song, Dan’s song. His jaw dropped, and he tried to stop and stare, but whatever tune the strange beast was playing pulled him closer still, the breeze now even colder against his bare skin.

Bare skin? He looked down, and then around behind him. He’d…lost all of his clothes, and they were nowhere to be seen! He’d been so hot, walking, had he taken them off to cool down? It had seemed so reasonable in the moment, but…but the song pressed against his mind, and drove out his worries again, bringing him to the satyr’s side. He looked a bit older than Dan, in his mid thirties, with a shaggy brown made of hair coating his head, and also his legs–but two huge ram horns sprouting from his temples implied that the beast was likely much older than Dan could guess.

At last, he set down the pipes, but the tune was still caught in his mind, playing over and over again, a seamless loop binding him to the satyr’s side, no matter how hard he struggled against the compulsion. “Good to know, after such a long sleep, the world still has beauties such as you,” he said to Dan, as one sharp nail ran it’s way down Dan’s front to his cock, the satyr licking his bearded lips before leaning over and running his tongue along Dan’s cock from root to head. His cock began to tingle, a new sensation filling his mind–lust, pure and simple. He’d never had much desire for sex, but soon, he was heaving for breath, eyes rolled back, no thought of resisting as the satyr stood, bent Dan over the side of the stump, and turned his attentions to the young man’s hole, licking and probing with his tongue, feeling the tight cherry begin to unknot and loosen.

Dan kept trying to fight back, but now the lust was overwhelming even the song still running through his mind. He reached down with one hand, and helplessly stroked his cock. It was still slick with the satyr’s saliva, but it felt…different. Thicker and longer than it had, and so much more sensitive than before. It began to leak, precum dribbling onto the surface of the stump, the scent of fresh cum driving him even more wild, the satyr pulling his mouth from his now very loose hole, lining up it’s own cock, and slipping it in deep with a long, loud moaning bleet of pleasure. Dan felt himself explode, a massive torrent of cum pouring forth from his cock, and yet, he could sense, somehow, that it was more than just cum leaving him, but also…himself. His memories, his elevated desires, his sense of self, his sense of humanity. He felt crippled by the overwhelming joy, and had no time to recover before a second, equally massive orgasm ripped through him, shimmering cum spraying across the surface of the stump where it was absorbed by the wood, with no trace remaining. This continued for what felt like hours, but could have been minutes, the Satyr’s hands exploring his body, until, at long last, the beast’s pace quickened, and with a cry that echoed through the hills, he came deep in Dan’s hole as well.

It was like a fire burning inside him. The Satyr pulled out and stepped back, and Dan rolled over onto his back on the stump, his insides aching, but his hands couldn’t leave his cock. The shaft grew longer, but his balls, which had shriveled slightly in the wake of his orgams, swelled again, fuller and thicker than before. The skin thickened into a hide, and a dusting of deep blonde hair grew in, coating the sack before spreading it’s way down his thighs, muscles thickening even as his legs shortened, ankles and feet contorting until he no longer had feet, but cloven hooves at the base of his new legs. The rest of him was changing as well–his lithe body bulging with newfound muscle, a ridged six pack, hard pectorals, strong arms stroking his thick cock, feeling the heat begin to claw through his mind, emptying it out of everything beyond the most basic of desires. Food. Wine. Pleasure. Sex. Service. He could see so clearly–not only without glasses, which had long since been smashed under the satyr’s hoof–but the path forward as well. There was only pleasure, in the end; why had he ever let things become so complicated? As Dan came one last time, two small horns pushed their way out from the side of his head, each an inch long–nothing like the ones adorning his new master, but perhaps in time…

The satyr took his new thrall again, both of them enjoying Dan’s new body through the evening and deep into the night, and then resting together, the old satyr playing one of his favorite lullabies to lull them both to sleep–though not as deep as the one he had just woken from. No, he had seen a glimpse of this modern world’s men–he thirsted for more, and this one would help him. Together, they would make many more brothers for themselves, living happily in the hills and forests, just as they had in centuries past.

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