Excerpt from NICHOLAS, of an erotic scene in a secluded glen on Satyr land
ringed by statues of Bacchus, nymphs, fauns, and maenads . . .
The first shaft of moonlight dispelled the murk, drenching the lords in its silver, revealing their nakedness. Almost in unison, they were seized by cramps that rippled cruelly over their taut bellies. They bent low, their features contorting into grimaces. Raw groans that were a blend of pain and pleasure erupted from their throats as the last physical change of the Calling night occurred.
Nicholas, the eldest, recovered first.
His eyes made a quick survey of the glen. It was protected, he knew. Strangers never came here. When Humans wandered too close, they were repelled by a force they didn’t understand. He willed himself to uncoil and stand, relieved the turmoil had passed. He hated the feeling of helplessness that always accompanied the Change. He couldn’t afford to be vulnerable, even for so short a time. There was too much at stake.
It would be dangerous for anyone to see him or his brothers like this. He was a freakish creature now, fit only for a harem or brothel that catered to those with a taste for the bizarre. Just the sort of place he might frequent, were he in a particular sort of mood.
He touched himself, slid a thumb and two fingers along newly awakened flesh from root to crown. His thumb found the drop of moisture in the crease at his tip and idly smeared it.
The last Change of Moonful had gifted him with this new shaft of bone and sinew--this second cock ripped from his own flesh. It extended high and hard from his pelvis, and twitched with hunger. Only slightly smaller than the enormous cock already rooted just below in his thatch, it craved relief as much as its twin. He soothed it—stroking. Mimicking the welcome it would soon find between female thighs, as he waited for his brothers to undergo a similar change.
At his command, ribbons of swirling mist spun in the glen, then stilled, shapeshifting. Iridescent forms rose from the vapor and solidified into Shimmerskins--insentient females who had serviced the Satyr since ancient times. Their soft hands caressed his newly furred flanks, offering comfort.
© Copyright 2007 by Elizabeth Amber
Thank you for reading the excerpt. I hope you enjoyed it! ~ Elizabeth Amber
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