Satyr Play 02 Pt. 02

"FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!!!!" Henry exclaimed as he felt her throat sucking the ropes of cum from his throbbing cock. The pulses of ecstasy went on and on as his body shook and jolted through each surge. It was one of the longest releases he'd ever had. He slowly came back to his senses and realized Camila was still sucking and swallowing. He got worried about how much she was taking so he tried to lift her head.

She growled and clung to his thighs tightly. She was so freaking strong! It felt like he had a tiger clinging to him. She swallowed again.

Seriously worried now, he dropped his glamor to get access to his Satyr strength. His change also meant Camila suddenly found a much thicker and longer cock jammed deep in her throat. She instantly choked and pushed at his legs to clear her abused airway. Then she lost muscle tone and went limp. The Wild Magic in her large meal had begun to surge through her body, replenishing her exhausted and drained cells.

Henry lifted her head clear of his cock and heard her body suck in a deep breath. He fixed a stern eye on her sleeping face. He saw her cheeks were wet from her watering eyes and her lips were swollen from the suction she'd applied.

That's when he noticed her glamor hadn't automatically snapped into place. He was sure it was a safety feature. Now his worry flared into full-blown panic. Had he ruined her glamor as he'd done to Paloma's? Was Camila going to need a new glamor and take on a new persona too? Shit!

He gently lifted her body in his arms, cradling her against his chest. Then he knee walked to the edge and stepped from the bed. He pushed the quilt and sheets down and gently laid her on the mattress with her head on a pillow. Finally, he pulled the sheets up.

He watched the unearthly beauty sleep for a moment then moved his lips to her ear to whisper to her.

"Camila, you're home, safe, and in your bed. Activate your glamor please."

He'd done this with her once before, and it'd worked then. He prayed for it to work now.

She sighed in her sleep, and suddenly she no longer appeared as a Succubus. Her beautiful ebony hair, spread out across her pillow, was now streaked with a deep red that gleamed slightly. That was new! Thankfully, it could be explained away as a cosmetic change. The good thing was, she looked human and like her original self! Henry sighed in relief. He carried his clothes out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He freshened up in the guest bathroom and pulled his clothes on once more.

Looking at his cell, he realized it wasn't very late. Time to head home. He went to the kitchen and scribbled down a quick note for Camila, telling her he'd see her at work in the morning. Then he let himself out of the condo, hearing the door lock behind him.

Henry left the building and headed for the subway. He picked up a slice of pizza on the way and scarfed that down in no time. He hadn't realized how hungry he was so Henry grabbed another slice at a second shop just before he got to the subway. That was gone before he reached the platform.

Having eaten, he yawned as he waited for the train. It had been a full day, and all he could think of was snuggling under the sheets of his bed.

The ride downtown was uneventful, but when he transferred over to the Path, he stumbled into a large group of young people dressed in their party outfits; lots of skin showing and lots of flirty behavior. Henry smiled at their excitement. He wondered where they were going.

Looking around, he noticed several couples holding hands and some were kissing aggressively. He suddenly started to panic that he was once more the source but he wasn't feeling the heat coursing through him. To confirm, he reached for it and something popped in his chest. Heat exploded outwards through his body from his core. Just as quickly, Henry clamped down on it as he had with Ikehorn after he left the dance club.

Only this time, it didn't want to go back into the bottle. It wanted out. Two nearby couples began to kiss passionately.

Trying to hide his desperation, he looked at the crowd surrounding him and realized if his pheromones released here, it would be like tossing a lit match into a gunpowder vault. He closed his eyes and squeezed the heat tighter and tighter to lock it down. The effort was intense! He placed his hand over his heart and pressed in a futile attempt to help, as only willpower worked for this.

"Are you ok, sir?"

Henry jolted and almost lost his grip as a rookie Police Officer moved to stand before him. He was probably close to Henry's age. Nervous eyes looked back at him. He smiled at the man.

"Yes, just a little indigestion. Pizza." He made one last push and felt the flash of heat sink deep inside once more. "It's going away."

Relief blossomed across the man's face. "Ah, the greasy stuff will do that to ya."

Henry smiled in relief as well. "I don't know why I always go for the bad food late at night."

That brought a grin to the officer's face. "You take care now." He moved off to break up the overly amorous couples. Henry wondered if the police presence on the train was to watch for recurrences of the previous gas attack.

When he wasn't the target of anyone's attention, he very carefully felt for the heat and found it poised for release, with a bloody hair trigger at that, as he was still overly aware of the loving couples around him! He wondered how this... ability? Bodily function? How could this thing be useful? How did Satyr's end up with this... power to create orgies? More of a party trick than an essential skill. And why was it so potent with humans? Damn inconvenient!

He was grateful to get off the train, but as he walked home along the walkway next to the Hudson River, he worried about the ticking time bomb he had inside him. Ikehorn's advice had turned out to be the worst thing to do! Suppressing it didn't make it go away, it just delayed the release. He'd barely been able to contain it in the subway this time. He wasn't sure he'd be able to block it the next time it wanted to come out to play.

He thought back to the first time it happened. The heat had stopped once he'd had sex with Mary. Suppressing it just seemed to make it stronger.

When he reached the empty lot next to his building, he had a strange thought. Maybe he could release the pheromones here in the lot where it wouldn't affect anyone. He still had the issue of how he would stop it once unleashed. He didn't want to play with himself in public. Getting caught like that would be disastrous! But the heat getting loose in a crowd might be worse. Fretting over it, he found his feet had walked him into the dark lot. He looked around and saw he was alone.

Before he could chicken out, he reached inside and found it had faded into the background. The trigger had gone dormant. There was no imminent release. He tried to force it, but it ignored his efforts. "Fuck!" he blurted in anger then looked around in embarrassment.

Frustrated, he turned and walked back to the entrance of his building.

As he reached the front door, he met a group walking in from the street. He recognized them as friends of Yuko, including pink hair, Kali, the other two from the restaurant, and two new ladies he hadn't seen before. He instantly went on guard, surrounded by the pretty women.

"Hey! It's Stanley's brother!" the young pink haired woman exclaimed.

"Henry Gable," Kali corrected quietly.

The other's looked to her in surprise, and she returned the look. "He's going to be my new neighbor, the least I could do is learn his name."

"You bitch! You've been holding out on us!" pink hair growled.

Holding up her cell, Kali explained. "I just heard from my sister. She's buying the condo next to his, and I get to move in with her." She had a very pleased look on her face.

Henry gave Kali a surprised look. Mahati was going to be his neighbor?

Kali turned her lovely dark eyes to his. "We'll be seeing more of each other, soon," she purred.

He caught the double entendre as did her friends and they burst into excited giggles.

"You better not let Yuko hear you talking like that!" pink hair chided Kali with a sly grin.

Henry opened the front door and held it for them. The ladies all found a way to touch him as they passed. Almost without warning, the heat strained to get free once more.

He had a sudden epiphany. It was groups! It didn't trigger when he was alone. It didn't trigger when he was one on one with a partner. But exposed to a group of attractive people, that's when the pheromone surge did its work. Knowing it was prepared to escape, Henry managed to block it once more, but he was starting to worry seriously. He needed to talk with Sigrid and ask her what to do.

"Want to ride with us?" pink hair cheekily asked as she gestured to the elevator. Her friends giggled.

He smiled at her. "You go on ahead. I have to check my mail."

A few made cute sounds of disappointment, but they walked off to take the elevator to Yuko's place.

The moment he was alone he closed his eyes and pushed at the heat. It was easier to force down, and he wondered if that was because he was alone. The first time he'd only been with Ikehorn, and it compressed easily. Doing it in the subway had been near impossible, but he'd been within a large group. He was getting a better picture of how this was working. He just had to avoid crowds.

In New York City.

Henry dumped the flyers he found in his mailbox into the trash then made his way up to his unit.

Once inside he pulled out his cell and dialed Sigrid. It went to voicemail immediately, so he hung up. He'd talk about it with her in the morning.

Tomorrow he'd splurge and take a taxi to the office.

He wasn't going to let his hormones be the boss of him.

Chapter 33

Sandy was feeling particularly upbeat this morning. While not a gloomy person by anyone's standard, today she felt almost giggly.

The previous day had been so much fun at work as Dayshia told and retold her boob grabber story to the rest of the staff they worked with, each time her satisfaction at putting the creep down for the count made her eyes glow. While many in her audience were more mesmerized by her cleavage than the story, her bestie had enjoyed being in the spotlight and left everyone with a warning to watch out for weirdos in the subway.

Last night, all night, Sandy had many beautiful dreams about Henry and woke with such a case of the tingles she had to deal with it in the shower. No doubt this was a significant component in why she was feeling so good.

On top of that, this morning her hair was feeling unusually silky soft and shone with health. She had to make a concentrated effort to keep her hands out of it.

As she'd promised Dayshia, she kept her eyes open for weirdos, but she only saw the usual crush of commuters. She smiled at a young black NYPD officer she'd become casual friends with as he visited their hospital frequently and rode the same train as her. Every day, he got off at the stop before hers.

"Good morning, Officer Baker! Don't you look smart in that uniform!" she said with a broad smile.

"Good morning, Ms. Marlow. You are looking exceptionally vibrant this morning!"

She laughed as they played the little game they enjoyed. Today was going to be a perfect day.

-=-

Dalewin and Rohann were ready to make their second attempt. This time Dalewin would take the point, and Rohann would be the spotter.

Their glamors displayed them as a couple of skinheads with ugly racist tattoos. Their disguises made the other passengers uncomfortable around them and less likely to make eye contact. As they were behaving themselves on the early morning platform no one wanted to start something. The cop was keeping an eye on them, but even he left them alone. According to Ikehorn's surveillance report, he exited the train before the target so that's when they'd strike. The platform was busy, but they needed to enter different doors to give them space around the mark.

As the train entered the station, Rohann moved further up the platform while Dalewin moved closer to the target. That earned him another look from the cop, but he just let the glance slide off as if he hadn't noticed. The doors opened, and they pushed their way onto the crowded train.

Dalewin almost had an opportunity to hit the target as he followed her in but they were too far from the hospital. The plan had him stabbing the female in the back to knick the heart. It required an exact aim and significant strength. The wound would bleed, and she'd need immediate surgery. The injury would leave a permanent weakness... unless the Fae intervened. Plan B was to stab her in the kidneys.

He was an expert with knives, far better than Rohann, so it was natural that he take the point.

As he was standing so close, he had to listen to the cop and the target inanely babbling to each other. He traded a glance with Rohann up by the next door to check in. His partner rubbed his nose. That was the back off signal as Rohann thought he was too close to the target. He glanced over his shoulder, and there was no room to move behind him. So be it. He felt eyes staring at him and glanced down to see a young black man looking at him with hate in his eyes. Those eyes flicked to the cop then back to his. Hmmm... he didn't calculate for another distraction. No matter. If he needed to take out the young man too, so be it. He wouldn't have to hold back as he would with the target.

The train rode on stop after stop. Few left so less were able to board. Dalewin noted the angry young man had his head down as if dozing.

The next stop was the cop's.

Then he would strike. He would succeed where Rohann failed. He allowed himself a little smirk. Rohann was such a perfectionist and had a long list of successful kills. Almost twice as many as Dalewin. It felt good to see him miss once in a while and to step in to finish the job for him.

Glancing across the train, he caught his partner's disapproving scowl. He schooled his expression. How did Rohann always know what he was thinking?

-=-

Baker chuckled. "Tell Dayshia the next time I'm in I'm going to ask her to describe her assault in explicit detail."

Sandy giggled at the thought. She knew Dayshia liked Mr. Baker even though she'd vowed she'd never date a police officer. "I'll let her know. Oh! Here's your stop. Be careful out there! Watch out for weirdos."

The officer grinned at her and tipped his hat which earned him another brilliant smile. He moved to the door and kept his eye on the skinhead standing next to it. The doors opened, and he walked by the man, but it seemed like he didn't even register on the punk's radar; speaking of weird.

The doors closed and with a slight feeling of unease, he glanced in the window to see Sandy's lovely smiling face one last time.

-=-

As the train began moving again, Dalewin palmed his dagger. It had a long slim blade as it was designed to slip between the ribs and penetrate deep into the victim's torso. He began his countdown.

The target remained oblivious to her imminent danger and was relatively still. Dalewin was confident he could hit the target at precisely the correct spot with sufficient energy.

They passed the halfway point to the next stop, so it was time. The assassin eased his body closer, just so-

The fist that caught him on the ear was small, and the punch was poorly executed so, while it hurt, it caused no real damage. He spun and expertly jabbed the blade into the young man's chest, collapsing his lung. As he turned back to hit the target, a roar of rage erupted from the seat next to his stabbing victim. A huge black man surged to his feet, shoving people to the side, knocking the target away from Dalewin.

As he turned to dispatch this second distraction, a huge paw gripped his face and drove his skull back against a handrail. Blood splashed the passengers seated there.

That's when the screaming began.

-=-

Sandy felt a sharp bump forward and managed to turn to see a tattooed man having his head cracked against a handrail. She stepped back, away from the violence. Suddenly, Sandy gasped as someone behind her tugged on her hair. She cried out as the tugging became painful. A sharp, loud crack rang out followed by a high pitched scream of agony.

The train jolted to a stop in the station, and the skinhead behind her pushed outside through the opening door, cradling a visibly broken wrist.

Something fell to the floor behind her with a clatter, and she turned to see it was a knife. That bastard cut her hair?!? Oh my god! Who does that?!? She pulled it over her shoulder, but she found no gaps. It looked intact if not as bouncy and shiny as it was earlier.

She turned back and saw a young man sitting on a seat with blood on his shirt and lips. Her training kicked in as people screamed and fled the train.

"I'm a nurse, someone call 911," she called out, and the brute who'd crushed the skinhead's skull looked at her hopefully. Now that his rage was gone, she saw the simple innocence and desperation in his eyes. She turned her attention back to the young man he was fretting over.

She'd do what she could.

-=-

Ikehorn was in a rage. This team of elite assassins was proving to be completely incompetent! Sent against mere Humans on two separate occasions, they not only failed to take out their targets, this time one of them was taken out by a bystander! And the excuse his partner was claiming?

"What the hell do you mean her hair broke your wrist?" Ikehorn exclaimed.

"I had a perfect opportunity to strike, and her hair seized my hand and bent it back until my wrist broke." Rohann asserted.

Ikehorn stared into the frustrated eyes of the assassin. "She's Human!"

"Is she?" Rohann growled.

Ikehorn leaned over the map of Central Park he had resting on the table before him and glared into the eyes of the assassin. "I ran the surveillance team for this group personally, and they are all Human. What happened to your wrist must have another explanation." The assassin opened his mouth to argue.

"ENOUGH! We only have one more chance at this. We will target the tall, dark haired female. Her surveillance report shows she exercises by running through Central Park early in the morning. She has a few favorite routes, all which pass through this secluded, treed intersection. We set up an ambush here. A simple armed mugger scenario. Shoot her-"

"Have you not seen my wrist? I shoot with my right. You need a precise aim for the type of gunshot wound you're asking for." He stared down at where Ikehorn was pointing. "An old Dryad is living in a tree at that junction. She's ancient and slightly mad. It wouldn't take much to tip her into attacking. We disguise ourselves as police to ensure she doesn't kill the target and call in the ambulance at the appropriate time."

Ikehorn huffed with frustration. He didn't like Rohann's plan. There was too much that might go wrong. "Let me see your wrist."

Frowning, the man lifted his arm. Surrounding the wrist was a faint green glow from the spell a healer bound to the damaged limb. It would protect the injury like a shield as well as aid the healing process. While it would take Humans six weeks of convalescence, the Fae only needed two to heal fully with their magic.

Ikehorn didn't have two weeks! He needed Rohann better now! Concentrating his will, he passed his hand over the wrist before the man could pull away. The lightest touch...

The green flash obliterated the spellbound to the man's wrist, and Rohann leapt back in shock.

"WHAT THE HELL are... you... What did you do?" Rohann started yelling but finished quietly as he carefully flexed his healed wrist. The terrible bruising was gone. It moved freely, but it was still a little weak. His hand still had a slight tremor in it when he used the muscles. Time would heal that.