Coveted by the Coven

Fingers teasing down his back, pressing in. He ejaculated without warning, tucking his chin down and clacking his antlers sharply against the rack, eyes half-lidded with unexpected pleasure. He'd only later know, just about, what pressure points were but, by that time, it would all be too late for him, the satyr having become a slave to their lusts and desires, lost to all else but sexual passion. Kasura cried out for him, pressing her tits together as she took his seed on them, marvelling with open wonder at just how much he could produce, his might and strength, all things that made his heart pound all the more desperately for all they could give him.

And yet even Varossion could not miss the fact that things kept going on, orgasm after orgasm coaxed sweetly from him under the influence of sweet hands and tongues and mouths and breasts. They pressed up against him as he tried to draw back, hands holding him down even though he was so much larger than them -- even all of them put together! Something locked around his wrists and ankles and he bellowed out another climax, cock jerking and spurting furiously as he spent himself over the buttocks of the teasing red-head, Namura's eyes sparkling as her plan, finally, came to glorious fruition.

"We'll take care of you," she breathed, tipping his chin up even as the other two kissed and suckled on his dick, teasing him to hardness once more, not allowing any sense of respite even when he needed it the most. "Relax. Cum for us. Again."

He was no longer the one in control and his masculinity, all that they had so craved from him, now become his downfall as he thrashed and heaved, striving with all his might to break free as the platform creaked dangerously beneath him. At any moment it seemed that the wooden structure threatened to tip them to the ground in a shattering of splinters but there was no true risk: the Sisters of the Red Lotus had planned their lustful rites well. After all, satyrs deserved so much more than the civilisation that, ultimately, they had been forced into... They were only there to do Varossion a service as they drew him all the way back to his feral, breeding roots, turning him from manly satyr to a true breeding stud, not able to think of anything bar the need of rampant sexual desire flooding his soul and every last fibre of his being.

Claimed and bound, he should have still, however, been able to break free but there were still so many parts of him that the coven were to uncover, tongues teasing and sweetly cleaning sweat from his body. The oils that they had used, of course, were of a natural ilk that were perfectly safe to consume and Kasura, the motherly one of the trio, spent time on his nipples, teasing and coaxing the little tubs to peaks even through the lusty curls of hair on his bare chest. Enniru was the one though that uncovered what he had, before, strived so very hard to hide, his swollen and heavy nuts aching for something, if not quite her touch.

Barely a brush of her fingertips had him growling and bellowing out his passion, ejaculating in a stream that caught even Namura by surprising, the red-head hastening to clamp her hands around his shaft, taking every last drop of that load into her mouth, gulping it down. Her mouth was stained and drooling with his seed already and one sloppy offering would hardly have made a difference if not for Enniru pursuing what she had found with the single-minded intent of one devoted to the passion and pursuit of true lust alone.

She giggled and toyed with his balls, pressing them lightly together and even allowing their own weight to stimulate him, almost visibly throbbing with need and heat, aching and churning. Despite himself, Varossion gulped and growled and tried with all his might to find the words that would, at the very least, get her to leave them a little more alone -- he needed to recover! -- yet there was no sense of recovery to be had as she tickled them with her tongue, forcing him straight over the edge into another climax even as his body begged with muscle tremors for release and rest from the tentatively delectable torment.

"Oh, are these where the secret lies?" Enniru squealed, clapping her hands together as she trailed her tongue over his nuts, seeking out just where his sensitivity was worst (or best, depending on how one looked at it. "Oh, we're going to have so much fun with this..."

Whether she meant for her or for Varossion begged further discussion but the satyr could not even force words from his mouth, caught up in the need to simply continue on gasping for air. His skin glowed with heat and he tried to stomp a hoof, frustrated by the over-sensitivity in his balls. Instantly, he wanted to cum again and his seed only seemed to be more and more productive with every orgasm, a fact that even through his haze of breeding desire that he could not help but still notice. Alas, as with so very much, it proved to be too little too late as Enniru lavished attention on his balls, varying the pressure as she squeezed down and uncovered every last one of his little limits.

And there was a lot that his body could take -- so much that he had never, not even once, had a partner in lust do to him. He had never experimented and always tried to hide just how easily his balls and, of course, his shaft too could draw a rise of arousal from him, as delectable as the sensations could prove to be under the right circumstances. It was too much and his head swam as they drew more and more from him, balls not seeming to run try as he ardently tried to shift his weight from one hoof to the other, fighting for a position that, at the very least, did not draw more pain to his sore muscles.

Yet his mind was going, slipping down and down and there was no escape. The most he could do as pleasure wracked him was to rock and grind fervently, antlers tipping as he twisted his head. Varossion fought to contain himself but he was already lost to the coven, their whispered words and pleas for his masculinity, his participation in what he still assumed was all clean and wanted, part of a ritual that would bring further lust and life and vitality the forest, all taking him further and further away from the beast he truly was.

"So strong."

"Keep going."

"You're doing so well."

The rite... The ritual... He tried to focus on that, blinking through a haze as the massage returned, although it was difficult at the very least to discern one pair of hands from the next, sensations blurring languidly together as time seemed to slow down around him. And yet even if time slowed down that did not make it any easier to bear through the tingling in his balls, burning and throbbing with a desperate combination of a need to orgasm and a need to stop, to rest and have no more, if only for a little while.

His balls ached as the rods that they'd had specially made (not that he was to know, of course) pushed up into his cock, hardly stopping the flow of cum as it pulsed around them. On a lesser male, of course, they may have been more than enough to halt the stream but the raw power and masculinity of such a satyr was a force, indeed, to be reckoned with. The ladies changed places, so many hands on his sore and sensitive balls, Enniru giggling and watching with abject, rapt fascination as his cum poured out around the rod, his orgasms having lost track. What could he be on? One blurred into the next seamlessly, the pleasure lost in the soreness and ache as the need for respite balanced on the tip of his tongue.

No... No, he had to hold on for the ritual. They had asked him for his assistance. Foolishly, for he could have possibly have broken free if he had tried right then and there, he stayed put, allowing them to get his bonds around him as he grunted and thrust, shooting a hot and heavy load over the red-head's face as she moaned for him.

"Yes... Now!"

And then he was locked down, forced down, in place for every last bit of the rite, regardless of just what he was actually ready for or not. His erection shot up again, rock hard, and a thicker sounding rod shoved into it, the urethra seeming to flare out at just the right moment. Was that so? It was hard to thick, his body striving to hunch down more and more as he pulled and fought against his bonds, although it was too much for his mind to allow panic in when erotic pleasure washed over him over and over again. The fingers and palms sweeping his body intensified in a flick of red hair, a giggling laugh heralding her dropping down between his legs, teasing his thighs with kneads and squeezes, harder and more forceful as if she was striving to demand something more from his pulsing, throbbing body. Kasura massaged his back and shoulders, the motherly woman whispering to him even through his moans just how well he was doing as she pressed down on just the right points to increase the stream of cum, orgasm intensifying as his balls swelled up, more desperate than ever... But for what?

No... No! He'd said he would do it but he couldn't! No satyr could!

"I need to stop," he breathed, although his words were lost in the pulse of yet another orgasm. "Too much... It's too much."

Yet they had no reason to allow him to stop and ignored his plea as lips crashed into his, Enniru, ever the curious one, moaning into his mouth as she forced some of his own seed into his mouth, another driving behind him, a tongue forcing his anal ring to spread. A kiss from both ends was a strange sensation to take and the satyr bucked and ground, the stage shaking and creaking, yet there was no respite or peace to be had from the wiles and desires of the trio who had so very easily taken him for their own.

Her tongue dominated his mouth, his mind too sluggish to keep up as he sweated heavily, his balls huge and growing larger as if his cum was backed up in there. Were they not letting him have a complete orgasm? Yet each and every climax lasted well over a minute -- the seconds slipping by as he ached and ached and ached -- Enniru releasing him sensually from the kiss as she dug her teeth lightly into his lower lip and drew it out from his mouth with sparkling glee.

"See how virile you are?" She breathed, eyes alight. "You need more... Take it!"

Fingers dug into his balls, his buttocks, Namara grunted as she reamed him, tongue fucking his anal ring at just the right speed to shove him over the edge into climax, the harsher movements having more than an effect once he was warmed up. Varossion's words became more and more incoherent but that did not stop him from heaving and wrenching with as much strength as he had left in him -- when his vigour was stolen to climax, not all that much in the end -- grunting and bellowing like an animal, eyes half-closed.

No... No, no, no. They had to stop, they had to let him go! Only then did Varossion realise just how far in over his head he was, panting and bucking and trying to pull away whenever those fingers jabbed into a particularly sensitive spot. If he had been more with his senses, however, as he flooded the stage with slick seed, cum pouring over the edges like a waterfall as it poured out and out, he would have realised that they were forcing him to produce more and more cum, the sensual massage being nothing but. He was just a vessel for their lusts, their needs rising and throbbing through, thick and full like a rampant male erection, the source of every last shard of their desire.

His balls hung down heavily under their own weight and he groaned, rolling his head to the side, antlers rapping smartly, striving to hunker down and bear through, clinging to the thought that, at least at some point, the ritual too had to come to an end. It simply could not last forever and he had to remember that, strive to bear through as his head pounded and his balls churned and churned with the need to spill his load. It was beyond belief that his body too could, in fact, produce that much cum and he could even see it before him, spilling over the stage, the women kneeling or standing awash in it even as a tongue on his anal ring prompted him to add to it again, his dick feeling so very much larger and thicker than it ever had before. Was that even possible?

And yet they seemed to intricately blur the lines of reality and what he thought could not be, driving him on to orgasm, directing his seed into the pool even as his mouth opened and closed, wanting to stop. Words were no longer his to bear as he slipped down and down, a machine to be milked and used for what he could produce. He didn't have to think and the ache to rest blurred with the need to cum, a heady grunt breaking his lips even as he rocked helplessly into the wood.

"Please..."

Yet the word did not come out, pupils dilated and each ragged breath scraping its way through his windpipe and lungs. He tried to say over and over again that they needed to stop but his words would only have fallen on deaf ears anyway, regardless of just how Varossion's erection throbbed and throbbed -- visibly too! It was not just a sense but something more, something physical, something that really should have been taken note of. But they did take note in their own way, forcing another bucket of cum to join the rest pouring off the platform and seeping into the ground, the thick aroma of fresh seed swamping them like the humidity of mid-summer before a storm. Yet that storm was only just beginning for Varossion.

"Keep going!"

Kasura clapped her hands, encouraging him on as he near enough climaxed of his own accord, spilling out cum and moaning with only the lightest of touches -- but what fun were those?

"More, more!"

"Oh, my stud!"

Their encouragement only reminded him of his predicament, balls several times larger than normal, unbearably sensitive and needy, aching for some kind of relief -- and not what they wanted to provide him with. They praised him for all that he was doing, how fine he was for the ritual, although their words lulled in a soothing tone that could have been reassuring if not for the pulsating desire coursing through him. No longer could the satyr claim to know just what it was that he wanted even as he babbled in nonsense words for release, moans overriding all as hands coaxed one more orgasm from him and then another -- and then another again.

No, there was not to be any true end for Varossion as he was dragged down and down and down, losing every sense of what it meant to be a proud satyr, learning the ways of his kind. What they had in mind was something more, what they thought a male should be -- and what better one to lead into their ideal world than a muscled stud of a satyr? Enniru lapped along his cock, marvelling at just how one touch of her tongue had him climaxing all over again, the spurts reaching across the platform as he demonstrated for them just how studly and powerful he was. And yet he was still in their grasp, performing as they willed, unable to walk even if he had been released.

Fat nuts hung down, brushing the stage, like a stud pig whose only job was to be used to breed over and over again. He didn't need to be able to move -- not for what they craved for him, moaning and simpering over him, fawning as if he was the answer to their wildest dreams and most sanctimonious of prayers. There could be no end to it as his bellow scared birds from the trees miles off, the storming stomp of his cloven hooves shaking the stage, body convulsing against his will and draining even more energy from him, not that he exactly had all that much left to give anyway. His testicles practically burned, although he could not tell what would cool them, cock constantly drooling as seed was forced out by the heralding of the next orgasm, each one of the trio painted in his creamy seed as if they had bathed in it, slipping on the platform with raw, desperate giggles.

No more...

Please...

I can't...

And then...lightness. He barely realised it was happening, a broken and subdued wreck of a moaning satyr, head spinning and spinning, antlers too heavy on a head that he almost didn't even have the strength to hold up anymore. The bonds of the rack fell away from him as they murmured and cried out how powerful he was, simply how virile his seed was -- how they had to have it! He panted heavily, trying to get as much air back into his lungs as possible, trying to say over and over again how thankful he was that he was able to help with their rites, the ritual that they had, so evidently, performed together.

He thought he was done, soaked in sweat and stinking of sex, the reek of it causing even his nostrils to pucker. Too much, it was all too much and yet he could not even crawl away as he heaved and his shoulders rounded, eyes bulging even as they tried to close, exhaustion catching up to him in a rush of sensation. No more, surely no more, that had to be it... And yet they giggled, catching up with him as quickly as tiredness did to his heart and soul, surrounding him on all sides, a trio that had turned out, in the end, to truly be a force to be reckoned with.

They had their satyr right where they wanted him.

"So glad... Too much..."

Mumbled words were not to be his salvation, however, as a pair of bare feet and toes filled his vision, the dark trunks of trees framing her in the background. But there was nothing sturdy about him where he could have before matched up to the quiet energy of those pine trees, even his natural scent fading in lieu of the aroma of lust and passion flooding him, surrounding him on all sides like a taste in the back of his mouth that he could not quite rid himself of.

"Oh, sugarplum..."

Kasura tipped his chin up to her as he still strove to crawl away around her, slipping to the boards in an ungainly thunk of flesh and muscle, legs too badly shaken and weak to hold him up. She kissed him deeply, hungrily, forcing her tongue into his mouth as she moaned and her heart pounded with passion.

"T-thank you..." He heaved, breaking the kiss with his words. "This... I helped..."

But it was not the end and that was not something that the coven was going to tell him with their words when their bodies could do the same. Namura loomed over him, the powerful satyr on his back on the boards, legs kicked out over the edge and dangling, the trees swaying and bowing above her as the wind picked up and up.

"It's time for the reward of your ritual..."

Yet it was not Namura who was to take him first, to claim her own sort of reward from the lust-addled male that they had broken down to nothing more than a breeding stud, but Kasura, her dimples showing as she beamed and sat astride him. She needed him as badly as he needed her -- or, at least, his cock needed her, balls churning and aching for release that he really should no longer have needed at all -- and moaned as she teased her pussy and folds back and forth across the intimidating head of his cock. And she should have known just how big he was, how much cum he could produce after teasing so many of his pressure points under the guise of massage, before sinking down -- yet his size still shocked her.

Her moan scared birds from the trees that had perhaps decided that it was safe to roost and rest while their debauchery seemed to be coming to an end. With his hands flung out above his head, arms stretched out to the sides around his antlers, Varossion heaved and panted, able to do nothing more than lie there beneath her, stripped of everything that could have possibly have made him an intelligent being. He was big, really too big for her, but Kasura cooed to him even as she sank down, one of her sisters massaging her pussy and teasing her sex just to help her out a little bit. But it was her wide, motherly hips that helped her out the most as she took more and more of his aching cock into her sex, pussy striving to tighten and ripple around his dick even as she was forced to relax for the simple task of taking every last inch of him.