What Insane nun is mine, as the reflections of a man turned sex maniac, as changed physically, species wise, to become as of the Capra, of goats. Forced to firstly drink satyr made Mead wine, and after not accepting what it caused, as made to happen, the satyr-Master had his male guards pour into my mouth and the mouth of my friend, cupfuls or satyr urine to assuredly do worse to us.
What is worse than the becoming as erotic sex maniac satyr? It is to continue changing and transform wholly, into the embodiment of a large breed, buck goat. We, as me for the present since my friend was taken away to meet his doomed new self, I did escape. Running, the sheer exertion of body, muscles, and internal organs did feel the satyr urine do its work. When thirst brought me to stop and kneel beside a clear water creek, I saw my refection.
I guess it was as expected, but my sense of fear was so horrid in me, that I felt a want to escape and seek help. I was not more than half the distance to the gated entrance to the pasture and path what led to the Glade and the satyr horde. The horde it was, not a herd as of animals, but a horde of sex-seeking half human and half goat animal bodies acting lurid their want to have sex, and do bad to anyone foolish enough to enter and seek to visit their horde.
They are like no women that I have ever seen, as can hold a candle to the erotic forms of true Satyr females!
The male satyrs stand brash as boldly naked, they tempting anyone coming to their camp, showing what from becoming as satyrs, have become extremely endowed sexually. They would do anything to lay captive another to join their throng. The male satyrs seem to rule the encampment, but the female satyrs do the sexual indoctrination to any guests, or the rare person fool enough to actually volunteer, as to be sexual fodder.
I drank from that clear water creek and saw how I being poisoned, were changing, my body transitioning, it becoming more akin to me being a male goat, an animal, a beast. Although the sight of seeing my body changing, becoming as is an animal, I should be scared, but I am not scared. Instead, I feel a queer sense of elation for the becoming as is an animal, me soon a buck goat, as then a herd-sire Goat.
I pondered what it might feel like to act as a Judas goat, and lead others, people still, as help them to their perdition. We are, as I am damned, my becoming a soulless animal. Strange that men through the centuries did struggle against being enslaved, as made the property of others. Yet, as since the entering of the satyr glade, the fact is real, I am lost from being a free man and became as a sex slave, made property, able to being sold, owned, and forced to act as would a common farm animal.
This intrigues me, my becoming changed into being a male goat, a horny beast wanting to fornicate with any living creature. I would laugh if not for the seriousness of the situation. Becoming an animal is the degrading of self, and body, as to lose the dexterity of being a human to gain the immorality that it is to being a goat. Horned and horny, furry as naked, being without hands having cloven hoofs, I having grown a tail and it the essence of what it is to be an animal.
The ability to speak as communicate with others as do people, I can but bleat my cries of horror.
What a fool existence it is to become as is an animal and lose not just the soul, but the reality of being free. Free, free, as not bound in by fences, able to go where I will, do as I wish, this I lost!
And yet, should I tread onward, forgetting my friend, leaving him to a similar doom. I ask myself as why save myself, and let him, leave him to the insane delights of Satyress torments. Almost totally the animal, me soon a goat, I should return to try and save him from this a worse plight.