Content warning: humiliation
A re-imagining of the myth of Psyche and Eros where Aphrodite does not seek to punish the beautiful princess by making her love an ugly creature, rather the goddess of love finds the princess’s deepest and darkest desires and order her son Eros to make the fantasy real.
When the stories of Princess Psyche’s beauty reached Aphrodite, the goddess of love and lust, turned her attention to the young woman. The princess was stunningly beautiful, with flawless tawny skin and thick masses of ebon hair. Psyche was a jewel among humans, and Aphrodite laid her gift upon the young woman.
She looked into the mortal’s heart and find the kernel of her secret and consuming lust. The goddess was not surprised by the particular depravity she found buried deep within the girl, after all, she had seen every human lust before. She pulled the depravity forth, leaving Psyche with an unceasing ache for her hidden desire. And then Aphrodite sent her son, Eros, to find someone who could scratch Psyche’s particular itch.
Thus, it was the Eros led Princess Psyche away from the protection of her palace guards and deep into the woods. They soon reached the clearing he sought, and Eros drew an arrow from his quiver and pricked fair Psyche with its tip.
The arrow enflamed her lusts. Her nipples were hard as stones and clearly visible under her thin dress and her sex burned with need. “Wait for me here, Psyche,” Eros said and vanished back into the gloom of the woods.
Alone, Psyche gave into the demands of her flesh. She lay upon the grass, and pulled her dress up, spreading her legs wide under the twilight sky. So it was that she had freed her breasts and was pulling on her nipples with one hand, while the other slipped into the wetness between her thighs when Eros led the laughing Satyrs into the glen.
She sat up quickly, but her breasts still hung free of her dress, and she flushed with shame – and with that shame came another rush of lust. For that was her secret desire – to be humiliated and shamed. The Satyrs grinned lecherously at her, their phallus stirring to life between their furred thighs.
“Who is this slut in our glen?” the first Satyr, dark of eye and hair, asked her, stepping closer to her.
“P…Princess Psyche,” she stuttered at him, trying to straighten her dress and hide her breasts.
“A princess?” the second satyr, brindled in pelt, laughed, “A lusty whore, I think.”
Psyche felt her face blazing and her lust rising. She struggled to recover her breasts, unable to answer their taunts.
“Leave your tits out, slut,” the first Satyr said, grasping her wrist. “We’ve already seen them and more.” He leered down at her, his slit-eyed pupils dilating slightly. He licked his lips, and she saw that he had the thick tongue of a goat to match his legs. She let her hands drop to her sides.
“Please,” she whispered, not sure what she was begging for.
The Satyr holding her wrist, spoke again, “You are in our glen, and princess or no, you must pay for your trespass.”
Psyche bit her lip, unsure what this creature would demand of her, but her secret lust burned and she wanted to fall to her knees before him – to take his engorged cock into her mouth and have him call her whore again. She nodded, “I will pay your price.”
“Take off your dress,” the brindled Satyr ordered.
Psyche reached up, releasing the stays on her dress, letting fall and pool around her feet. “as you wish,” she whispered. Her emotions were a tempest of conflicting desires. She wanted to be debased and abused by these two satyrs, to be used and treated as a sex toy. But her shame at these desires washed over her and added to her fervor.
“Look how quickly she strips,” the dark Satyr said, running a finger over naked chest before capturing her hard nipple.
Psyche whimpered as the pain and pleasure coursed through her. And she heard her own voice unaware that she had even spoken, “Yes, use me for your pleasures” she hissed.
The dark Satyr laughed and turned to look back, and Psyche followed his gaze. And that was when she saw that Eros remained at the edge of the glen, seated and watching them all. Knowing that the beautiful god was watching her debasement added to her trembling.
“She is every bit as wanton as you promised,” The dark Satyr said to him. “We shall use her well.”
Hearing this Psyche shivered in both lust and in shame.
She met Eros’s eye as the dark Satyr lapped his goat’s tongue over her pert nipples and her moans filled the night air.
He continued his attention to her nipples, licking and finally suckling, while the brindled Satyr came closer, his hands reaching between her thighs. “This slut is soaking,” he said his fingers probing deeper between her thighs. Psyche shifted her hips, rubbing her sex against the invading hand. He pulled his hand away, his laughter filling the glen. “So hot, so needy” he hissed at her and placed his fingers in her mouth. She opened her lips, tasting her own musk on his fingers and sucked them clean. “Do you taste good, human whore?”
Psyche struggled to speak around the fingers still in her mouth, while her body was overwrought with her lust.
“Can’t you speak?” he hissed at her. But finally pulled his fingers out of her mouth.
“Yes,” she panted, “Yes, I taste good.” She took a deep breath, “you should taste me.”
The dark Satyr raised his head from her nipples, “Tell me what you want.”
Psyche bit her lip, both Satyrs had stopped touching her now, but she could still feel the heat from their bodies, and as she swayed slightly on her feet, she could feel their jutting phalluses. She stared him, unable to let the words out, unable to beg for her own debasement. “Please?” she managed.
“Please?” The brindled Satyr sneered, “Please what?” He grasped her hips, pulling her back against him, so his phallus pressed against her bottom. “Tell us what filthy things you want, and maybe we will give them to you.”
Psyche rubbed against him, writhing. “Please,” she asked again.
He released his hold on her and stepped away. They both did, leaving her naked and desperately aroused.
As they took another step, their stiff phalluses bobbing, Psyche dropped to her knees. “Please.” And all the words locked behind her lips sprang out. She hefted her breasts at them, “Use my luscious breasts.” Her voice quavered in shame, but she kept speaking while they watched smirking.
“Let me taste your phallus,” she moaned, letting one hand drift to her sex. She rubbed at her pearl, continuing to beg and plead.
Both Satyrs watched, letting her demands for release become more and more depraved. “Listen to her grovel for cock,” the dark Satyr laughed watching her. He stroked his own phallus, “Crawl slut, and maybe I’ll let you have a taste.”
Psyche began to crawl to him, listening to their crude commentary about her body and actions. She reached the dark Satyr, and knelt before him and begged.
He wrapped his hand in her hair, as she wrapped her lips around his phallus. She inhaled his musky scent and hollowed her cheeks sucking him hard and deep. He allowed her control for a moment until her fingers once again found her dripping sex. At that, the brindled Satyr pulled her hands away, holding them behind her back.
“Go on, use her filthy mouth like a cunt,” he said to his partner. “She’ll thank you for it.”
Psyche found herself frantically nodding her agreement, even with the thick phallus in her mouth.
Once again, their wicked laughter surrounded her, but when the dark satyr began thrusting into her mouth, his hand wrapped in her hair holding her head in place, she groaned in utter delight. Without the use of her hands and his vigorous thrusts, she felt her own saliva dripping over her chin.
“Look at her drooling over my cock,” the dark satyr groaned. “I wonder,” he paused thrusting deeper into her mouth until she nearly gagged. “I wonder if she’ll really do all she promised.” With that, the dark satyr pushed here away, watching her tumble from her knees to the ground.
“More, please” she panted, wiping her mouth.
“Hands and knees” the dark satyr ordered.
Psyche hurried to comply, making sure to spread her legs wide, so they could see her eager sex. “Please,” she begged, “Fill me with your delicious manhood.” She watched them both circle her, watching her while she begged. The brindled satyr stood behind her, and Psyche trembled with desire. “Oh please, I need it.”
“This isn’t about what you need, whore,” he said, his hands on her hips. “This is about what I want.”
“Use me,” she pleaded, feeling the tears in her eyes as the shame and the relentless desire warred within her. “Please, use me as you wish.”
And she felt the brindle satyr’s fingers as they slipped between her legs, collecting her wetness. When she felt those wet fingers press into her other hole, into her bottom she gasped.
“You are going to tell us everything you feel,” the brindled satyr said, his hand stroking her wet sex again, and she could hear the sound of her wetness. Then she felt the press of his phallus against her most forbidden spot.
“Oh,” she grunted, “it’s so big.” She bit her lip, feeling his phallus, slick with her desire pressing always deeper. “It stretches and burns,” she said, looking at the dark satyr, “but I want it all.” And the brindle satyr gave it to her, pressing harder inching into her until she felt him slip all the way inside.
“Tell me,” the dark Satyr commanded, looking down at her, “How does it feel to have a satyr’s cock in your ass?”
Psyche felt the tears again but moaned in delight. “It feels so wonderful to have him using my,” she paused her voice dropping, “asshole.”
They laughed, and the brindle satyr began sawing his cock in and out, “Tell me slutty, Psyche, have you had a lot of cocks in your tight little ass?” He pressed deep inside her as he asked.
She shook her head, “Only a few.” She blushed and felt her belly tightening as she neared orgasm. “And none as good as yours.”
The dark satyr stood watching, stroking his cock. “Listen to this whore and ‘only a few,” he stepped closer to her, “don’t lie to us, how many?”
But Psyche was so distracted by the fire growing within her. She never expected a phallus in her bottom could lead to an orgasm, but she knew she was nearing her completion. She had only a vague awareness of the dark satyr asking her questions. She certainly couldn’t think enough to count the number of lovers she’d taken in her bottom. When the brindled satyr began thrusting harder, his fingers biting into her hips.
“Answer him,” he growled, “and we will let you touch your pearl.”
Psyche struggled to form the words, finding herself thrusting back meeting his cock as it filled her ass. “Only,” she panted, “Only seven.” Her hand shot to her pearl, rubbing quickly. Her orgasm hit, as the two satyrs jeered at her for the number of lovers she’d had. And Psyche rode that orgasm mingled with desperate need and brutal shame.
Her fingers kept moving even as the brindled satyr pulled her hips tight against him, and she felt his phallus twitch its release deep into her bowels. He held her there for a moment, before sliding his cock out. “That tight asshole was begging for me, I could feel her clenching around me for more.”
Psyche stayed on her hands and knees panting. “How many cocks have had your ass,” the brindled satyr asked.
“Eight,” she said answered, humiliated.
“And how many cocks have filled his wet cunt?” the dark satyr asked, his hand between her thighs.
Psyche whimpered, wanting him and wanting to once again be shamed. “Fourteen,” she answered, truthfully and was rewarded with his fingers slipping inside her, thrusting slowly. “Please use me,” she whimpered.
And as he entered her, his phallus pressing into her sex, she watched Eros walking across the glen. The impossibly beautiful god had watched everything, every filthy thing she had said, certainly he had heard her detail the feeling of a satyr’s cock in her ass. And now he watched, stroking his cock while the dark satyr fucked her roughly, impaling her and demanding she thank him for it.
When the god of lust and love aimed his cock, letting his spent pleasure splash against her face, she found herself crying out with her own orgasm. Eros’s juices dripped down her face, while the dark satyr groaned his release into her sex.
When he released her, she fell to the ground, the love god’s salty semen coating her tongue as she licked her lips.
“She looks well used,” the brindled satyr said, looking down at her. But she noticed that his cock was swelling again.
“I think she needs another round,” the dark satyr said.
And Psyche sat up, looking at all of them, “I am yours to use for all your filthy desires.”