Discussing details

I lead Sabastian off the beaten path. We find some rocks to sit on overlooking a gentle brook. We settle onto a rock, the soft murmur of water contrasting with our excitement to plan the capture.

I glance over at him. “So, tell me more about the Satyrs."

Sabastian shrugs, "Not much to say, when it gets down to it we are pretty similar to humans if not a bit more in tune with the natural world. Our tribe runs a Vineyard together."

I prod him to continue, "A vineyard?”

Sabastian shifts uneasily. He’s used to talking about anything but himself, but the question hangs between us. “The tribe runs a secluded vineyard,” he says slowly, “we sell wine to the island’s traders for supplies. It was a decent setup... until Lucas started getting drunk every night.”

I lean back, watching the water. “And then?”

“He’d drink himself into a stupor after work, yell at anyone nearby, especially me. The worst part is the hangovers. He takes them out on anyone he could find—me, usually. I took over the deliveries to keep my distance from him. It was easier than dealing with him, or anyone else.” A sullen edge creeps into his voice near the end.

I lean into his personal space causing the top of hunting tunic to strain against my cleavage. I notice him briefly look down as I ask “The elders must have seen something in you—why didn’t they send someone else for the deliveries?”

Sabastian’s cheeks flush faintly, and he looks away, his fingers absently brushing through his hair as he avoids my gaze. "I... I guess they thought I had more tact than the rest of the tribe."

I grin with a warm sense of victory at breaking his sour mood. I decide to go a bit easy on Sabastian and lean back to my seat. “Right, we'll use that tact to lure him away without arousing suspicion. Let’s wait till nightfall then make our move.”

I glance over at Sabastian. “Start working on a net for restraining Lucas. I’ll go scout the ambush site.”

I stand, the earth cool beneath my feet. Sebastian has been surprisingly helpful so far... I wonder. I start to sway my hips in an exaggerated manner as I walk away. Glancing back, I catch a slack-jawed look on his face. I relish the victory and the ground does not feel quite so cool as I walk away.

As I step deeper into the quiet of the woods, something unexpected stirs within me. It’s a raw, unfamiliar sensation and I do my best to ignore it. I push it down, as I spend several hours exploring and find an optimal ambush site. However, the heat doesn’t go away its increasingly difficult to ignore my bodies betrayal. My breasts strain against my tunic and it’s all I can do to focus. This isn’t me. Or is it? The pull my damp tunic against my curvy hips, the heat between my legs—these are feelings I don’t recognize outside. Having a cock never felt like this. Fuck, this is not the time for distractions, not when everything hinges on the capture this evening.

I remember the toy, the "rabbit" I’d found during my last hunt. I've done my best to forget it. But now... well, now it feels necessary. I'll just masturbate, that always worked when I was a guy. The heat, the pressure building inside me, leaves me with ****. The heat intensifies I withdraw the rabbit toy I had found earlier from my pack and move into a hidden spot. It's not ideal, but I’m beyond caring. As I move into the hidden spot, a soft chuckle cuts through the air, and I freeze. My heart races and my body tightening in ways I was not fully used to. It's too close, too familiar... Sabastian? Or someone else? I hold my breath, waiting to hear the next sound.