Page 6 of Sating the Satyr

“Pick a crop.” She points at a specific section. They all resemble riding crops, but are more decorative in design. I hesitantly grab a red one, placing it in her outstretched hand.

“Color?”

I swallow a lump in my throat. “Green.”

Glancing at an upholstered bench, she commands me again. “Over the bench.”

My mind argues, but my body complies. I bend over the bench, finding a comfortable position.

“The crop can be used as punishment or pleasure.” Her velvety voice getting closer. “I want you to understand something, when you are here with me, I am in control. If I ask you to do something, you do it swiftly and as asked.” She stands over me now, her soft fingers glide down my spine.

“Yes, Mistress.” Her hand moves to my hair, gently massaging my scalp. A reward, I suspect.

“Obeying earns rewards,” she starts again. A moan escapes my lips, and the crop comes down across my ass with an audible smack. “Disobeying gets you punishments.” I clench my muscles, expecting another, but it doesn’t come. “Respect. Trust. Clear Communication. Got it?” Why do I want her to spank me again? I test the waters and don’t reply. Smack. My cock jumps at the contact.

“Yes, Mistress.” I gasp.

“Three more. I want you to count them and give me a color.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Smack. “One. Green.” My dick starts to throb.

Smack. “Two. Green.” Precum leaks from my tip. Shit. I should have masturbated before coming here.

Smack. My body twitches. I’m about to fucking cum from being spanked. Oh Gods. I close my eyes, trying to hold back.

“Fylis.” She says it with a tight edge, her breath brushing my ear like a warning dressed in silk.

“Fuck, Three. I’m-” The words dissolve into a gasp, a cry slipping free before I can stop it.

“You will not cum unless I tell you to do so.” She growls the words, leather groaning in her grasp like it knows better than to disobey.

Too late for that. We’re past the point of no return. Her voice chokes me and I feel my come spill over onto the bench, soaking my fur before it drips onto the floor.

“RED.”

Chapter 8

Fylis

Mistress Jade steps back, giving me space. My mind is a storm, and I can’t seem to find my way out.

“Breathe, in for four. Hold for seven. Exhale for eight. Let’s do it together, ready?” Her soothing voice is like a lifeline. I grab onto it and try to pull myself out of my head. I nod and hear her inhale, following along for four. Hold for seven. Exhale for eight. We repeat it for what seems like an hour until I’m finally able to open my eyes.

“Are you with me now, Fylis? May I touch you to move you somewhere softer?” Nodding again, I hear her heels click against the flooring. Her soft hand moved under my arm to stabilize me. My hooves slip as I try to stand, but she catches me with grace. She’s so strong, and not just physically.

“Let’s get you over to the chair, hmm?”

The memory of my panic attack floods my brain, and embarrassment soon follows. As soon as I sit down, the words spill out before I can stop them, “I don’t think this is for me. You can keep the money I’ve already paid in advance for the future sessions.” It’s almost as if she ignores me, though, sitting and crossing her long legs, she stares at me with an unreadable expression.

“How about we discuss what happened back there first, then decide?” She speaks firmly, but I can feel that hint of care, even if it’s laced in professionalism. Does she care about me or the money, though?

“But-” This woman has completely caught me off guard. A ball of emotions twists inside me, and I can’t seem to cling to a single one long enough to steady myself. Does she think I can’t handle this? I mean, yes, I said I couldn’t, but still. Is that all she sees in me? Someone weak? Pathetic? The thought twists in my gut, almost as unbearable as the torture wall itself.

Her eyes work me over, like she’s reading my every thought, but still doesn’t speak. Leaning back in the chair, she makes herself look a little less fierce. Man, she’s good. My body instantly relaxes, and I almost forget how we got to this point.

“Fylis, can I be honest with you?” Pausing for only a moment before starting again, “I became a domme for one reason: to help others harness their power. That’s it. I can tell you like to be in control. You like order. Rules. Rigidness.”