Page 7 of Sating the Satyr

My eyes suddenly find something interesting on the floor to stare at as her words eat away at me.

“But here’s the thing, what you mistake for control is actually your unravelling. You’re stuck in a routine that makes you miserable. But miserable is better than feeling like you don’t have control. I get it. I was like you. Even I needed this,” She waves her arm elegantly around the room. “This made me who I am today. Confident. Controlled. At peace with myself. Happy. I want all of those things for you.”

Her words strike a chord in my heart. I want those things too. All along, I thought I had them, but really, I have only been running myself so ragged that I don’t have time to feel any emotions. Just burying myself in research and working to pass my days.

“Okay.” The lack of confidence is evident in my voice as I surrender to this frustratingly correct and stunningly beautiful woman. “I need this, you’re right. Please don’t give up on me.”

Her eyes narrow on me with a smile that’s slow and deliberate. Probably rehearsed, but I pretend it’s solely for me.

“Please, Mistress.” I chastise myself for forgetting my place once again.

“Okay, Fylis. We still have some time in this session. How about I teach you about edging?”

Fuck.

Chapter 9

Jade

The flustered satyr sits across from me. Sweat was dripping from his bouncy curls. Curls I’m dying to sink my fingers into. Stop that, Jade, he’s a client. Just a client. I take a deep breath, then stand, tossing my long black hair behind me. Each click of my heels echoes like a ticking clock, counting down as I move toward him, and Fylis nearly leaps out of his seat with every sound.

Burgess, let me know Fylis had some complexities. No problem for me, of course. I’m one of the best. Then why does your heart clench when he looks at you like that? I shake the thought from my head. It’s been one session and he’s wormed his way into my mind. I’m here to work, not to drown in feelings like a fragile girl needing something she can’t have.

Stopping in front of Fylis, I tap his knees for him to spread them. It takes a moment, but when he does, I praise him.

“Look at you, learning already. Such a smart boy.”

His throat tightened visibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but his breath never faltered. He’s present and in a mostly calm state, so I continue. I position myself between his furry legs, allowing my skin to brush against him. Small gradients.

“Color?” I search his eyes for the truth as he schools his features to please me. Gods, he’s precious.

“Green,” a choked whisper comes from his lips.

Slowly, I bring my hand to his horns, letting a fingertip gently caress the end of it. When he moans but doesn’t stop me, I continue.

“You’re doing so well, Fylis. Do you like it when I touch you here? Tell me where you enjoy being touched.”

He leans into my hand seeking more pressure, so I wrap my hand entirely around his horn, giving it languid strokes.

“I-I don’t know. I haven’t let anyone touch me, like this, in a very long time.”

It’s odd for a satyr not to indulge in his instincts. This guy is wound up tighter than I thought. Letting go of his horn abruptly, he huffs in frustration, his eyes seeking mine for a reason. I stretch my hand out before him and he eyes it wearily before placing his palm in mine. With a gentle tug, I pull him up from the chair. His horns barely reach my chin, and with these heels, I definitely tower over him.

I guide him to follow behind me over to the bed again. Without any instruction, he sits at the edge, appearing more eager. My heart thumps at the thought. Down girl. Opening a hidden drawer on the frame, I pull out a green silky eye mask. The color looks magical against his deep brown fur and caramel skin.

“Are you comfortable putting this on? Removing one sense can enhance the others. You can-”

“I trust you.” He eagerly takes the mask from me, carefully placing it over his eyes. “Would you like me sitting or lying down, Mistress?”

A smirk tugs at my lips, and a throbbing starts in my core. “You’re perfect where you are, Fylis. Just perfect.” His pointed ears flicker in delight.

“I’m going to touch you now with my hands and with some soft items. I want you to focus on the feeling, being present. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I grab a feather off the wall and a ribbon wand, too. His thighs are open, granting me access to stand in his space, and I notice the most luscious pink tip poking out of his fur. It’s bulbous and thick, already shimmering with precum. Filing that image away for the spank bank later.

My fingers graze his shirt buttons, carefully undoing them one by one, taking my time. Once his shirt is gaping open, I drag the feather down his neck and chest, making delicate circles all over his skin.