Lysaila chooses her new base of soul procurement:
2012
Driving toward home after a day at work, friend Charlie was driving his pickup truck along beach road, a gravel road, and several miles from the nearest town, a place with few cottages and homes built along the lake shore. As he drove toward his house and home, ahead of him he saw something coming out of the air. The something was a large black object, and it slam-crashed into the roof of a lakefront house.
The house took the hit hard, as whatever came crashing down caused the whole house to collapse. A crushed house then began to collapse further, Charlie slowing his truck and watching, saw the house begin to slide into a hole forming under it. He would expect such action from a house with a basement under it, but situated that close to the lake, any basement would be full of water, as setting below the natural water table level.
He stopped driving, and got out of his pickup truck. In the front lawn stood a for sale sign with a banner on it that said the house was ready for immediate habitation by new owner, so he thought the home was vacant. The hole might b a sinkhole, so he walked very cautiously nearer to the wrecked house. Standing and looking down into the deep hole, seeing the crushed sidewalls, the otherwise cute house looked quite a mess. Still, to be sure nobody was down there in the jumbled mess, Charlie yelled, “Is anyone in there!”
Even while Charlie yelled down at the house, it was settling further down into the hole. He continued to yell, while watching the mess of tangled wood and broken as twisted aluminum siding crumple continuously. A loud snap and some cracking sound of plasterboard cracking and from the wrecked home Charlie heard the voice of a woman, she laughing, maybe hysterical he thought, and why not, considering her situation.
Mister Hero, Charlie jumped into the broadening sinkhole and began a few minutes of frantic moving as digging away what was by then as purely junk wood, plaster, and shattered glass in a heap. Charlie heard the woman chuckling, she saying her thanks for someone coming to her aid. When Charlie moved a section of plasterboard, there looking back at him were golden yellow eyes of a woman, but smiling at him.
”Are you hurt, or bleeding,” Charlie asked the woman. She was smiling, chuckling all the while as her rescuer continued to work feverishly at the rubble to get the woman out of her predicament. She seemingly humored by her situation, said then, “My name is Lysaila, as she reached out from where she stood, surrounded by what was remaining of the house, showed Charlie her furry hand.
He seeing a human hand but it furry from forearm down to hand and to fingertips having black as soft fur, he wondered what the woman was or looked like.
Then the lot of rubble began to move aside as if the woman had greater strength than did Charlie, she pushed forward until she slipped a leg out from the rubble. Charlie stood there and gawked, seeing not a human leg, but a black furry hind-like leg of a large animal, a goat he thought when seeing then a cloven hoof.
“What or who are you,” Charlie asked, he beginning to have some fear as of what he had discovered. Charles took a step backwards, he stunned to see the wreckage move as it did, he then getting a view of the full figure of what he had tried to save. She moved out from behind a large wedge of plasterboard, smiling at him, she was naked. Naked and not, as her complete self, as from head to hooves he saw her was covered in black fur. She stood then before her hero, he looking down at her cloven hooves, panned his eyes up as along the sleek form and then eying her large breasts, they tapered slightly upward, looked firm, with black nipples what made Charlie almost laugh, the nipples looked like animal teats.
“I am Lysaila, third consort to may master, Zepar!” She said, as giving her head and body a shivered shaking, the plaster dust flicking off her, she stood then fully clean from all the white dust. She smiling strode stepped closer to her hero, pressing at his chest her stiff nipples, as with both furry hands she sank them under his belt, down inside his pants, past his underwear to begin fondling at his manhood.
Charlie, a thirty-year-old man, was quite a healthy specimen, standing six foot seven inches tall; he a hard worker had a very athletic build to his body. As of what he found, met and was standing pressed against and fondling him, he had the view of a some one or thing being so seductive of form and manner, he let her work his maleness to a fully aroused state.
Lysaila peered with her inquisitive seeking eyes, reading the mind and thoughts of Charles. She saw in him his natural fear of her, so similar to any a man she approached. Leaning forward and down with her head, she being slightly taller than was Charlie, she kissed him, her long forked tongue slipping inside his mouth and poisoning his body as she would his mind, she beginning her next conquest.
Muffled groans of a man aroused and enjoying a time of intense passion with a creature from somewhere, she furry, and lustful, when finished her kiss of him maneuvered her right breast teat to touch his lips. She then said as almost an order, told Charlie to accept her tit and to suck on it.
Mesmerized, Charlie slowly opened his mouth and let flick into it her puckered stiff nipple-teat, as he closed his lips around the teat and began to suck. Lysaila let Charlie suck on her right breast for a while before dislodging his mouth and moving him to suck on her left breast, the traces of her black milk tickling down and off from his chin.
After what to Charlie thought as hours, he stopped suckling, and with Lysaila in tow, they climbed out of the sinkhole and walked hand in had to his truck. When Charles sat down then when back inside his truck the love for his racy vehicle demeaned the seductive hold Lysaila had built in him. He looked over at who he had in the truck with him, seeing a figure of a woman naked and furry, she having the hind legs of a goat, he saw her goat tail, and noted then her long, as flopping pointed, furry ears.
He started the truck engine, slipped the shifter into the drive position and slowly began to drive toward his house, when he asking said, “Who or what are you?”
Lysaila did not answer or even give Charlie a look, she raised her right arm and with index finger, she pointed to the road as if ordering her conquest to drive onward toward his home. He remembered doing just that, and with her beside him on the front seat, they sped off along the beach road.
When he arrived at what Charles called home, it a double wide mobile home set by itself on a hundred acre plot, but some fifty yards away from the old homestead his parents resided in since the year they purchased all their farm property. They exited the truck and he taking her by the hand, escorted her inside. When the door closed behind Lysaila, she grabbed her man, turning him to face her, she glaring those golden-yellow eyes at him, and said, to an otherwise courageous young man, “I am your mistress, you are my slave. I am a Demoness in my more preferred Satyress a form. You will service me, breed with me sexually, orally, doing what I wish to feel and for doing as I wish done, your body shall begin to change, changing until you become almost like me, but still, very much a male!”
One nervous Charles stood stiffly before his Satyress goat woman, stiff that is in more ways that just his stance. Lysaila was not one for wasting time, she pointed at his shirt and then his pants and work boots, it all became as dust that drifted to the floor.
Wide-eyed with horror, Charlie stood there and felt it as she squirmed closer, guiding his erect penis to and let slide inside her hot feeling furred vagina. Her fingers with cubed hoof like nails began caressing his body, she getting to know the very muscular form of the man she planned to exploit. Leaning into his face, Lysaila places a wet lip kiss to his mouth as her hairy fingers touched and held his head in a tight grip.
As Lysaila thinks, her thoughts sink deep into the mind of her man, placing into Charlie some perverted mental suggestions, some being as orders her prey must follow.
A kiss more and Lysaila with her hairy hands began to press on broad strong shoulders, pushing Charles down to his knees. His penis popped from out of her, it slick with her gray colored as slimy juices. He then kneeling before Lysaila then eying at what he knew in his mind was a place of intense danger. She held his head in a firm position, she being more seductive than any human female could ever become, did as might a demon Satyress, began pushing at his head to wallow his face at the winking lips of one beckoning, demonic pussy.
Raw sensual seduction followed as her man felt on need to resist and plunged into her furry pussy, he with tongue and lips did maw at her, licking, slurping, cleaning her pussy as she stood ordering Charlie to do and do well!
He remembered how he did wallow into the slimy fur surrounding her varied size of a womanly pussy. As he began his push and pressing at her pussy, she made it widen, opening, until he felt most of his face had entered inside that hot tunnel of sex. Even as he knew he had to lick her vaginal walls clean, the thought as taste of her juices he abhorred, but felt duty-bound to do as she said. Somewhere after his entire head had slipped inside her body, he from the neck down feeling numb. Lysaila told him to lose his fear of her and find as a replacement the want of brute bestial lust.
He recalled having then such a sense of lust so blinding, Lysaila an expert of her kind in dealing with humans and helping them to learn and love sin, perversions, and to love her for doing it to them.
All time ceased, as for what to Charlie he thought we days, maybe a week or more of constant as continuous sexual fornication between Lysaila and him. Slowly at first, he did not note it but his skin changed in texture as color, while sprouting from it grew forth a pelt of fur. The spreading fur coat on a strong farm worker seemed to Charles then as something only his farm animals knew the thrill. He did not mind what deep in his conscience mind told him was terribly wrong. He saw how his maleness changed, the size, girth, length, color, and contour of his penis became inhuman, bestial.
As best Charlie could remember later, he said most of the time when with or inside of Lysaila, while she molested him or him to her, his penis remained in an erect state. The erection would soften while he returned to his ritual of orally cleaning as slurped licking clean her pussy of his ejaculated semen before the next round, his cock would retract up into a furry sheath.
He remarked the sensation of the retraction was as much a fun feeling as was the manner of how it became erect, emerging then from the sheath until extended stiff, rigid, and spitting pre. The tunnel sheath and of his much larger testicles that hung below, between his legs, he had some chances to reach a free hand down and touch as feel the thickening skin, his being like animal hide, as he would feel it there he caused another massive an erection to commence.
He said of swooning at the sensations, the passion in his chest, the lust like something so driving, he would do anything to quell the need. As from his sheath, it the only part of his lower self what felt at all as furry and soft, he would take hold of his erection. He feeling the brute bestial want of it sunk into a hot fur surrounded a pussy, his mind and ideals were constantly changing. He was becoming crude as what he knew as a vagina became then a pussy, as he thought later of it as a cunt and then a vulva like those of the cows and mares he tended to on the family farm.
He in the midst of the sexual turmoil watched as felt his legs changed, they became like to her legs, as goat legs, his toes hardening became suddenly as cloven hoofs. He was all about his penis and using it, the touching of it, it being bright red, crude in all contour, the essence of the newness in him being like a buck goat, but his male shaft reminded him of that a stallion has and appreciates.
The only pains he remembered being intense to cause him to cry tears were when he sprouted horns. The short nubs of black horns that soon matured of size and length, Lysaila told him they would help and guide a human body to transform. Transforming first to appear goat like, then very much as is a male goat, maturing a chosen man to be then as a large muscular breed of a goat.
Lysaila repeatedly plagued Charlie with her saying, "Just separating what was human to make more goats, to fuck does, ewes, and horny women!" Lysaila would say it softly, she loving the sensual attention he gave her and would laugh at him, saying how men are so willing when made to look like an animal; they give up everything they had, even to their immortal soul to act like a beast.
Charles was beyond the point of any possible escape from Lysaila. His male sensations were growing, as did the drastic changes to his body. He took to learning the sensation of what goats and other true animals know as of the call to Rut. What began as forced sensual play, turned rough. What was a man, changed to look like a male goat began then preferring to mount Lysaila from behind! She encouraging Charles, let him facially wallow, lick and play, as then guiding his twenty-six inches of long stallion length of shaft to an appropriate home.
He with a briskly wagging tail, and then shaggy goat legs shaking of nervous anticipation, she as well he looking down at his big testicle balls, low slung, fur covered they would sway as he stood thrusting, ramming ever forward.
Breathing in harsh huffing breaths, Charles felt the touch of warmth her hot wet lips, he excited by this and instead of wooing his lover, he recalls yelping short bleats like would a goat buck ravished, and enveloped in the rut. It is the rutting of his changed shaft, its extra high level of sensation, as he thought then of Lysaila as if he were rutting a willing nanny. It was what she told him would do the final arranging, leaving for Lysaila to toy the night away with a man-minded male goat, horse cock endowed and frantic for feeling wild sexual delights.
Barely able to cope with what he became, Charlie did what Lysaila demanded, he kept her as busy all night as she did him, and as morning dawned she lay on his bed, sprawled out, legs spread, cunt leaking lavish amounts of spent semen.
Using his hoofed hands he poked at his cellphone, and delighted with how pointed were his fore hoofs, unable to speak intelligible English, he messaged me what he saw, as happened and of what Lysaila had him become; enough told to make me surmise as write his Ode.