Mythical Satyr Novels & Stories

She sighs. “Can I call them here?” He nods, smiling. “Hecate, Pan? A word if you don’t mind.” She speaks lightly, but stands as they pop into the liminal space. Hecate is seven-foot, with pale almost luminous skin, large eyes that glowed a dark purple, a small delicate nose, thin lips, and shoulder length wavy black hair tied back in a ponytail today. Pan’s a Satyr, the top half of a man, and the waist down was all goat.

I muttered as I recalled what the cursed witch said. “Yes, we are coming for your world,” the big creature casually said. “You werewolves have had your fun.” “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked in a firm tone. “It means that we will tear through the Rift that blocks your world from ours and take over it by killing you all and enslaving some of you just for the fun of it.” The big guy replied. “What are you called?” I asked him as I looked around. “Saturn,” he replied. “The Harbinger of Doom.”

It made a hissing sound, and the next thing I know is its body is wrapped around me. Me right now is like a mouse in a lion's den. I drained out my power controlling the earthquake, and now I'm surrounded by ravenous creatures. I call all the deities I know inside my head, but I just feel my body being crush by the serpent. The manticore still keeps on marching towards us, with its mouth open. Its disgusting saliva is dripping on the floor, as its tongue is slightly stuck out. The centaurs and satyrs already came, and I saw how they ignite a fire on the corpse of my people. This is the end of my city—our realm.

I wish I could have learned to be brave earlier in life, perhaps I would have been okay with what happened next. When I approach the closest person I stop almost immediately as they turn to me. Staring back at me, beyond my belief was a satyr. I could feel throbbing in my eyes from trying to comprehend the sight in front of me. The horns coming from her forehead curled only marginally upward and out to the sides, which I was unable to see earlier due to the long flowing dark hair. Her pants were cut open at the front showing hooves for feet. My heart races as she speaks, “Are you alright?” She asks. English. She spoke my language. This had to be some kind of fairground or amusement park with

she mumbled. "Salis is a powerful hybrid necromancer that was banished from the fairy realm because he would steal mates from their intended match. He stole others' mates and also my cousins, having his way with them before abandoning them. He is without honor and will not have your best interests in mind. You are demon marked so I am certain that is what is drawing him to you," Atlas surmised. Frowning, Aira glared at him.

And at the center of that newborn uncertainty, a voice stirred—familiar, fierce, and alive. --- The Birth of a Myth In a realm made of fractured starlight, the people of Kareth whispered tales of a god who had fallen for their freedom. They called him Sareth the Unbound. His image was carved into the spires of their cities—half of light, half of shadow. His eyes were said to hold both creation and destruction within them, his voice the echo that could birth suns or end them. The Karethians did not worship him out of fear. They thanked him.

"But the rest... I shudder to think what the shower drain must have looked like. Probably a wad of hair big as a drowned mouse. Blech. Did he have a hairy ass, too?" "Yeah," Jaylee said, her eyes nearly glazing over with nostalgia. "And muscular, hairy legs, too... from the waist down, he was almost like one of those goat-guys from Greek mythology. Satyrs." Marion's nose was wrinkled more than ever, so that her entire face was scrunched up in a kind of dubious horror. "I never knew you went for that. All these years, and I thought you were normal." "It's normal! Quit eyeballing me like I just told you I was into guys who wanted to be diapered, or peed on, or something."

My eyes were pulled open, and I found myself in hell, surrounded by three of the seven deadliest demons. I crawled down to my knees and bowed low to the ground. “Forgive me for intruding into your abode. I have a request to make,” I muttered, and heard Behemoth snort over my words. “What do you seek?” Satanas asked. I dared not raise my head as I began to talk. “I appreciate that you gave me a second chance to defeat the Lycans for the sake of my brother…” I paused and gulped hard, hoping they would grant me my desire.

It’s the creepiest shit I’ve ever seen. “Odysseus. I should have known. Why are you here? Who are these with you?” “These are followers of Hecate and children of Selene,” he says, gesturing to us. “Witches and werewolves,” Briareus mutters. Curious, not angry. “Why would you enter Tartarus?”

She drank all the cum and licked him clean as Adrastos stepped away from him. "Addy I heard every guys dream is the lesbians sex. So I just had a great idea." She informed Adrastos who smiled and took off his clothes including his underwear and went to Satanika with his impressive seventeen inches cock. He then chanted something that turned him to a girl. Adrastos was five foot three with pink hair and green eyes. He looked small compared to Satanika but had a very mind blowing figure eight. The symbol of the Michaelson's slave mark was behind his left arm to his back.