18+

It was a cool spring night when you set out from your village, weighed down with charms and spells, well-wishes and prayers for your safety trailing behind you as you entered the dark forest at the village’s back. You were escorted to the tree line, but no further. No one else dared venture into the woods, not at night, and certainly never when the harvest exchange had yet to happen. The harvest exchange, that, coincidentally, happened to be exactly why you were walking into the dense treeline, wearing nothing except a thin linen robe and the hopes of everyone who lived in the village behind you. Even so, you were completely unafraid of what waited for you. It was not the first time you had made the trek, nor would it be the last, and you knew that no beast would interrupt you before you arrived.

The walk was short, maybe thirty minutes until you broke through the trees into a familiar moon-soaked clearing. This clearing didn’t exist at any other time. You had looked tirelessly the day after you had first visited. It was dotted with new spring wildflowers, petals and the grass around them sparkling with dew. A pond lay perfectly in the centre, the surface reflecting the clear night sky like a mirror, completely undisturbed by wind, or fish, or bug. You walked towards it, shivering as dew clung to your feet and legs. You knew that somewhere on its shore, there would be a skin of sweet, enchanted wine for you. Drinking it would put you to sleep, and waking up would mark the beginning of the exchange.

◃◈▹

You were told that being chosen for the exchange was an honor and a curse rolled into one. After all, the exchange happening was what kept crops from rotting in the ground, kept traps full of game and nets full of fish. Kept the village from starving come winter. You would go into the forest for a week in the spring, and be subjected to unknowably painful trials that would push you to the absolute limit, both physically and mentally. Terrified, and unaware of the wine, you sat in the freezing grass until you had passed out from exhaustion. Your dreams were hyperrealistic, full of visions of forest gods and animalistic rituals. In the dreams, you were in other people’s bodies, and they felt more like...memories. You woke up oddly rejuvenated, despite the fact that it was still night, and surrounded by a trio of satyrs who were looking at you with undisguised interest. You screamed.

“Woah, hey, calm down,” the shortest one said, his nose wrinkling unhappily. “There’s nothing to fucking yell about.”

The taller satyr beside him- Fos, they said- cuffed him around the head. “They’re confused, Ky. Don’t be an ass.”

Fos spoke to you quietly and kindly, at odds with the short one’s- Kyrias’- blunt matter-of-factness. The middle one, introduced as Ilias, said nothing, but his warm brown eyes stayed locked on you. You would stay with them a week, they said, if you chose to accept your role in the exchange. If you did, all three of them would use you how they pleased, and your village would be guaranteed a fruitful year and enough food to last the winter. If you didn’t, they would send you back and someone else would take your place until someone accepted their conditions. The whole thing was mostly formality, Fos had explained. They said that they didn’t have- nor did they desire to have- the power to keep your food from growing, just the power to make sure that it did. Kyrias had scoffed that Fos was too soft-hearted not to use it, even if the harvest exchange never happened.

“So I can just leave?” You asked tearily. Fos looked like they wanted to reach out and comfort you. Ilias’ gaze never left you. “You won’t...do anything to me?”

“Every fucking time,” Kyrias growled. He squared himself directly in your line of sight, forcing you to look at him. “Despite what you’ve probably heard about us, wild spirits aren’t generally inclined to screw every single body they can get their hands on, willing or not. We have standards and morals, shockingly enough. If you want to leave, you can, and we won’t do anything about it.” He grinned mischievously at you. “Besides, it’s fun when someone really, really, honestly wants it.”

Your face heated up, and you hoped that none of them could notice. “And what happens if I stay?”

“You’re ours for the next week. And for a week every spring as long as you want to keep coming back.”

You looked at the three of them, at gentle eyes and twitching ears, at soft-looking fur and cloven hooves. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t nervous about the prospect of staying. Being promised a week of unimaginable torture frightened you, no matter how kind these satyrs seemed, but they genuinely looked like they wouldn’t hurt you. And you were at least a little bit interested in the proposition. “What do I need to do?”

Ilias spoke up for the first time. “Drink this.” His voice was soft and sweet compared to Fos’ deep warmth and Kyrias’ harsher rumble. “It’ll put you to sleep so your body can get ready. Make it easier to have sex, make sure you can cum more than once. You’ll need it, you won’t be getting much rest once we start.”

He held a leather wineskin out to you with furry hands. You hesitated for a second before taking the skin, holding the neck to your mouth, and draining every drop.

◃◈▹

You smiled at the memory. Coming to the clearing in the spring had become a happy part of your life, though one you would be loath to tell anyone else about. It had always seemed suspicious that everyone still thought the exchange was some week of torture, though as far as you could tell, this arrangement wasn’t new to you. You didn’t find the idea of sharing your satyrs particularly appealing- just as they had shyly asked you to keep yourself for them the second spring you spent together- and it was your best guess that everyone before you wanted to keep them too. Or maybe they truly had seen the arrangement as a hardship, and you were just odd.

Stripping yourself of your already scant clothing was a slow, methodical venture. The charms that had been tied to you were first, knots undone and placed in careful piles. Even if you didn’t need them, you weren’t about to disrespect your community by treating those tokens like garbage. Your robe was handled with similar care, slipped from your body and folded into a tidy package. The night air felt good where it caressed your naked skin, and you allowed yourself a single luxuriant stretch before you settled onto the ground, picking up the familiar wineskin in your hands. The leather was worn buttery-soft, etched with floral designs. You unscrewed the top and lifted it to your mouth, enjoying the cool wine as it flowed down over your tongue and down your throat. The rich taste of pomegranate filled your mouth, and you slowly sank into the warm embrace of sleep.

◃◈▹

You were woken up by a searing tongue lapping over your cock. Calloused hands pressed lightly down onto your hips, just barely keeping you pinned into the dewy grass at your back. Hot, slick fluid leaked out of your hole; a handy side-effect of the enchanted wine. The mouth that had been working you over slid down over your balls and perineum, licking up the natural lubricant with indulgent strokes. It took all of your still-half-asleep restraint to not squirm, but you were enjoying this too much to let it be over just yet.

“Damn, they’re still not awake?”

You would recognize Kyrias’ voice, strident even at its quietest, anywhere. Fos’ own whisper broke in.

“Maybe they were just tired.”

“Or maybe Ili,” So it was Ilias who was currently pleasuring you with his skilled, sweet mouth, ”isn’t as good at this as he’d like to think.”

The sound that Ilias made against the cleft of your ass was noncommittal. Knowing him, he was enjoying himself too much to care about any snide jabs at his sexual ability. He continued, alternating between licking your puckered rim, teasing your sensitive head, sucking and nibbling at your balls, for what felt like a very painful eternity before Kyrias cleared his throat pointedly.

“Fine, I’ll wake them up,” Ilias murmured, sounding more than a little put out that he couldn’t keep up this lovely torture.

There was no warning in the split-second between when he pulled away from you and when he simultaneously sank two fingers knuckle-deep into your hole and swallowed your cock all the way down his throat. It was impossible to control the high-pitched whine that spilled from your mouth or the way your hips jumped up at the contact. Your eyes shot open and you saw two of your satyrs settled into the grass beside you. Kyrias was drenched, his furry brown legs splayed open wide and his fingers toying with his slick folds as he watched Ilias pull you from your sleep. Fos’ hands twitched at their sides in a show of extreme restraint, their own cock hard, pre-cum beading at the tip and smearing into their inky fur.

They smiled at you. “Good morning,” they said, voice warm and affectionate. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Mmmmm,” you moaned. “Morning.”

The mouth around your hard length- which had been just insistent enough to be distracting- disappeared from around you. You whimpered, chasing the wet heat upwards, only to be stilled by the fingers still inside of you, the hand still warm and heavy on your hip.

Ilias’ handsome face was already filthy, lips shiny and swollen, his chin covered with spit and your clear lubricant. “You stayed still for a long time, even after you woke up,” he said quietly, crooking his fingers to perfectly send pleasure firing through your body. “It was impressive.”

“What are you talking about?” Kyrias’ voice was both confused and irritated beside you.

“They’ve been awake for a while, haven’t you?” Ilias bumped his flat, fuzzy nose on your thigh. “Before I started eating you out, I think.”

You tried to answer, but he curled his fingers deeper into your ass and your back arched up painfully. He stroked the tiny bundle of nerves quickly, firmly, distractingly, slowing down just enough to let you nod.

A sharp movement caught in your periphery. A very annoyed Kyrias popped into view. “Are you kidding me? We could have been going all this time, and you decided to fuck with us?”

“Y-yes?”

“You are such a fucking tease. And you.” He rounded on Ilias, who was still lying between your legs, pumping his fingers deliberately into you. “You are an asshole. What exactly did you gain from not telling us?”

“Their first orgasm, obviously. You always get most of their attention once we start.”

You wanted to argue that you had yet to actually cum, but when another firm press sent you writhing and moaning helplessly beneath him, you knew that it was only a matter of time. Kyrias made an indignant noise in the back of his throat before reaching forward and tweaking one of Ilias’ snow-white ears. Ilias batted his hand away, his rhythmic massaging into you stilling to sporadic thrusts.

Warm hands landed on your shoulders, jolting you away from the bickering satyrs in front of you and making you jump a little. Fos smiled at you, their hands lovingly cradling your face. They leaned down to kiss your forehead before staring very pointedly at the scene in front of them.

“This seems like the kind of thing that you could handle later, hmm?”

Their voice was quiet and measured, but there was a thin undercurrent of frustration running beneath it. Kyrias and Ilias stopped in their tracks. The fingers inside of you stilled even further, and you made a truly pathetic noise and wriggled after him, trying to coax him to keep going. Fos’ hands tightening around your shoulders forced you still. You glared up at them, infuriated by the mild smile they responded with.

“Ili, finish what you were doing so we can start properly,” they instructed. He nodded, finally starting to move his hand again after placing an apologetic kiss to the inside of your thigh.

Kyrias whirled around to them. “What? Why can’t we just start now?”

“Because we don’t lose anything from letting them cum once. And because I said so.”

Their voice was still quiet, but there was an undeniable power to it that sent even more blood rushing to your groin. It was obvious that it had the same effect on Kyrias, who went deathly still before settling back onto the grass. He let his legs fall open, the slick folds even wetter than before, and brought one hand in between them, stroking his engorged cock. You moaned at the sight, the sound pitching higher when Ilias curled his fingers teasingly into you. He kept fucking his fingers into you, kissing and biting your thighs as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. You were properly writhing now, made useless by the strong hold that Fos had on you. Each movement made their rock-hard length dig into your back. Between the solid heat beneath you, the wet noises of Kyrias excitedly masturbating beside you, and Ilias working you over with skillful fingers, it took almost no time for you to climax. You arched up painfully, shooting sticky white cum over your stomach and hips. A few streaks landed on Ilias’ face where it was pillowed on your leg. He indulgently licked his lips and hands clean, never once breaking eye contact as he sat up.

Even though you just came, the sight had you hardening again. The virtually non-existent recovery period was your favourite part of the wine’s enchantment by a huge margin. Kyrias hopped up as soon as he saw you cum, and pulled you away from Fos in order to kiss you, sloppy and unbelievable. The hand he had on your throat was damp with his slick, and the thought made you groan into his mouth. Fos let the brown-furred satyr pull you away from their hold until you toppled gracelessly on top of him.

He guided one of your hands to his hot, wet folds, moaning softly into your ear when your fingers traced his flushed cock.

“You’re going to fuck me, hmm?” He purred. “You’re going to fucking fill me with your seed, and Fos and Ili are going to take turns stuffing you with their cocks.” Taking your earlobe in his lovely blunt teeth, he tugged on the sensitive flesh. “Maybe this time it will take.”

The day after the first time you slept with them, Fos had explained, as he so often seemed to do, that traditionally deals of this nature with gods and wild spirits were for the purpose of creating magical children, demi-gods and witches and blessed warriors. It wasn’t usually the case any more- and couldn’t be, in your case- but the thought of it, of being used by these spirits like that, had aroused you so viciously that your dick hardened in spite of the days of endless orgasms that had come before. Ever since, all three satyrs had been incapable of not mentioning it whenever you met. Your skin grew hot at the thought of the last spring, when Kyrias had surprised you with a truly gorgeous polished wooden phallus and leather harness that he wore tight around his own hips, and the way he had fucked you so hard that you swore you forgot your own name. All the while he had crooned filth directly into your ear, about breeding you full of kids, fat tottering little things that would have your eyes and be brimming with his woodland magic. You knew it could never happen, but the thought of it appealed to you in some primal, impossible way.

Kyrias slung his muscular legs around your hips, breaking you from your reminiscence. Seeing him laid out beneath you like this was an upsettingly rare sight, no matter how much you enjoyed seeing him riding you, or with your dick in his mouth, or getting mercilessly fucked by one of the others. You were dimly aware of Ilias and Fos sitting near you, hands leisurely stroking over their cocks, but a slow grind of Kyrias’ hips into yours effectively stole all of your attention. He was stunning in the silver moonlight, and oh-so-graciously allowed you several moments to revel in him before demanding anything more.

You drew a reverent fingertip over the bony ridges of his nubby horns. They were bigger and more curved than when you had first met, sturdy structures that rose from his forehead and curved along his skull until the sharp tips were in line with his ears. You knew he hoped that one day they would have the same corkscrew coil that Fos and Ilias’ did. The skin around their bases were unbelievably sensitive, and you ghosted the edge of your nail over it just to hear his shuddering intake of breath. The bridge of his nose was flat and fuzzy with dark brown fur, almost velvet in its feel, the same fur that blended into his hairline and covered his soft ears. Ears that flicked happily when you gently rubbed the delicate skin between your fingers.

A pleased little sound broke from Kyrias’ mouth as you traced the lines of his body down his chest, pausing to trace his pretty brown nipples and the clean, shiny scars that lay underneath them. Dark fur began thickening at the base of his sternum, and you took your time making your way to the apex of his thighs, enjoying the way the strands slipped silkily through your fingers. Thick muscles flexed under warm skin and fur as he tightened his legs around you, pulling your hips flush with his. Both of you groaned when the leaking head of your erection met the hot slick in between his legs.

You could sense the desire rolling off of all three satyrs in oppressive waves, and knew that you had to stop teasing them before their rapidly dwindling patience ran out. Leaning down to kiss Kyrias once more, you lined yourself up with his hole and pushed in. The slip was easy, aided by slick and pre-cum, but still deliciously tight. You bottomed out into him, head falling limply forward at the hot clench of his walls around you.

Kyrias moaned, a low, drawn-out noise of pleasure. “Oh fuck.”

It was tempting to tease him even more, to unravel him until he was a thrashing, begging mess under you. You had only seen him like that once before, but the sight had been so captivating that you desperately wanted to get him like that again. Unfortunately, you could tell that now was not the time. You pulled back almost all the way, before slamming viciously back into him. The force sent his back bowing dramatically, the points of his horns digging into the soft earth behind his head. You continued thrusting deep into him rhythmically. Each driving push made his back curve even more, drawing wanton moans from both of you that mingled with the sound of your hips slapping against his.

A solid, warm body appeared behind yours. “I’m going to breed you so full,” Ilias purred into your ear, his cock huge and leaking against the cleft of your ass.

You shuddered between the two satyrs. “Please,” you whined, pausing your harsh thrusts to roll your ass back against him.

His thumb caught on your entrance, still loose from where he had fingered you open and leaking with magical slick, before he positioned his thick cockhead against your rim. He didn’t give you the courtesy of easing himself in, knowing from seemingly endless experience that it wasn’t necessary, that you didn’t even need it. The pace he set was immediately unforgiving, his shaft longer and thicker than any human’s, splitting you open. Each time Ilias pushed into you he sent your hips forward, sinking even deeper into the delicious heat of Kyrias’ body.

“MMmmm-ahhnnnn!” You moaned, mouth falling open. Drool fell from your gaping jaw, splashing onto Kyrias’ already sweat-slick chest.

He yanked one of your hands down from where you were bracing your body beside his head and brought it down to his beautifully engorged cock. You could feel blood pulsing through the sweet nub around the base of the head where it emerged from his soaked folds. It was obvious what he wanted from you, and you gently massaged the sensitive organ. His legs tightened even further around your body, cloven hooves digging into your ass just above where Ilias was aggressively fucking into you. You knew he was getting close, and kept working him over with whatever scraps of focus you still had to spare as your hips were pushed ever deeper into him. A broken moan tore from his throat and his walls spasmed around you as he tipped over the edge of his first orgasm of the night. Kyrias’ eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp below you, body bouncing as Ilias kept fucking your cock into him.

Ilias wrapped his arms around you, chest plastered against your own sweaty back. He stroked rough fingertips over your nipples, teasing the pebbled buds into hard peaks. His hips continued driving into you, and he squeezed the meat of your chest hard. You cried out, arching down into Kyrias’ body where it still lay beneath you.

“Look at you,” Fos said from somewhere beside you. A wet sound and their breathy voice made it obvious that they were slowly jerking themself off to the scene in front of them. “So sensitive already. What’s gonna happen when we breed you full of kids?”

“Mmmmm,” Kyrias moaned, his hands joining Ilias’ where they were fondling your chest. “I’d love to see you like that. Can you imagine it, tits all swollen and leaking? I bet you’d be even more sensitive then, right Ili?”

Ilias brushed his nose along the slope of your shoulder. “Yeah. You’d probably cum at the slightest touch.” He drove into you particularly hard, making you lose your balance until the only thing keeping you up was his grip on your torso. “God, what I wouldn’t give to see your belly full up with a litter of little satyrs. I wonder,” he growled, uncharacteristically aggressive, “which of our seeds would take, if we were all to fuck you full?”

Your climax snuck up on you unexpectedly, and you came deep inside of Kyrias with a stuttering moan. Ilias didn’t give you any rest, his hips still driving into the wet heat of your ass. It only took a few more thrusts before he, too, climaxed, his mouth buried in the nape of your neck. Hot cum filled your body, more than you would have thought possible, shooting deep into you until all that was coming out was weak little pulses. Kyrias carefully extricated himself from underneath you right as Ilias pulled his softening cock from your ass. You could feel your puffy rim flutter at the emptiness, and moaned at the obscene feeling of hot globs of cum slipping from your hole.

One of Fos’ large hands wrapped around your hip, the other one scooping Ilias’ cum back into your hole before they levelled their own massive cock with your entrance and pushed in. You moaned loudly, back arching painfully from the stimulation.

“Hey, how about you put that mouth to good use?”

Kyrias squatted down in front of you, his wet folds glistening invitingly. You didn’t need any more prompting to bury your face between his legs. It was a filthy, sloppy process, less properly eating him out than doing your best to make him cum with the vibrations from the desperate noises that Fos was pulling from you. They were already close from stroking their cock before, if the erratic jump of their hips was anything to go by, and you were rapidly approaching a third climax yourself. You lapped hungrily at Kyrias’ folds, licking up your own cum from where it leaked out of them, suckling softly at his swollen cock, moaning desperately the entire time. The vibrations from your mouth were clearly working for him, because he started bucking forward against your face, chasing the friction until he was cumming again, slick dripping from his twitching hole. You could feel yourself clench in response, and Fos made a strangled noise at the feeling of your hole tighten even more around their girth.

“I’m going to cum!” They groaned.

The feeling of their hand wrapping around your leaking cock made you jump, and they pulled another wailed orgasm from you with tight strokes. Sticky spend spilled weakly from your cock, your energy flagging even with the support of the wine. Your rim twitched around the thick cock seated inside you, and Fos moaned quietly as the feeling milked them dry. Even more cum spilled deep into you, mixing with Ilias’ spend as it filled your belly. The sticky fluid pressed against the walls of your stomach, and you bet that if you looked down, your stomach would be distended from the seed that filled you. You went completely limp in Fos’ arms. They pulled out, rubbing the worn-out muscles of your back as you collapsed to the grass.

Your face was sticky with a mix of slick and cum, your cock and stomach covered in the same filth. The black fur covering Fos’ hindquarters and the white fur of Ilias’ was soaked in the same, and Kyrias’ furred folds were still wet with your spit. A shiver went through you as a gob of cum leaked out of your fucked out hole.

Fos swiped it up with one of their fingers, licking the digit clean in an obscene display of affection. “Let’s rest for a bit before we go again.”