Henry found a Honeysuckle bush thicket and he snuggled inside to have a private place to think about his new self and his situation. As he nestled down to a seated position, he leaned back and pinched his tail, what caused him pain.
He shifted his butt and felt then the cool soil touch his sensitive anus, as that was a bother.
He crossed his legs to sitting Indian style, and that position seemed to feel the best.
"Oh Henry, what in the devil has happened to you. By all that is of the unholy, Henry, you resemble what might be a Greek satyr. A Satyr, how was this made possible, as what is worse, this is not Greece, this is Indiana, where the wind blows hard, and the snow blows cold.
However this happened, what is needed is to move south, to where it remains a more consistent temperature.
Henry noted his gut was growling, and the sensation had him feeling as hungry, but where could he go to get any food, and then too, what does a Satyr eat?
The more he thought about his becoming a satyr, the more he felt to of feeling drastically horny.
Being horny gets what being horny wants, as Henry watched with licking his lips, seeing how from his furred sheath rose a pointed, uncircumcised, animal like, reddish-purple penis, it stiff as a wood dowel and about the same size as a common pencil.
The touching of his pencil length and size goat cock felt extremely sensual to his touching of it. The man that right then he was not, as a Satyr we was, Henry began to stroke his cock, he masturbing, his cupped hand flew up and down along the length. As with a ached pain in his Kiwi fruit size scrotum, Henry knew what was to come. Come of cum he did, as marveled, seeing not a slight spurt, but four, as long, thick around squirts of satyr semen. As the semen splattered about inside the thicket, the smell of his semen had the scent like a fine wine.
Henry sniffed his scented semen and leaned afar forward, as began then licking his expelled semen from off the branches, leaves, and two pooled puddles lying on the ground.