I was wakened by a hand on my shoulder. Above me stood Sam, the satyr. Night had fallen, but his grin was radiant, stretching from ear to ear in accomplishment. His short erection bobbed just over my forehead, and I had to limbo out from under it.
I slowly rolled over and looked to where he had been building the bridge. As I looked, I figured I must still be asleep on the forest floor, for before me was a well-made bridge, spanning the river I had slept beside.
"What happened here?" I asked, not wanting to insult the satyr's skill, yet not wanting to believe that he had managed to turn that lump of roughly carpented logs into such a bridge.
The satyr smiled. "Yeah, it doesn't look quite the same in this light, does it?"
"Oh, I get it! It changes shape when night falls!"
The satyr looked at me perplexed for a moment, then his face broke into a grin. "No, not at all. See, the water has nymphs in it, and they helped build."
"So why were you building the bridge so slowly, and all alone?" I asked.
The satyr's face broke into a grin. "Don't you know anything? They're Union! They only work at night!"
I stared at the bridge a moment longer, but Sam grabbed my arm. "C'mon," he said. "The moon's going to rise, and we need to cover a lot of ground."
"Where are we going?" I asked, curious as to where I needed to go with a satyr with a short erection. "Do we need another bridge? I no longer have my axe."
His grin turned mischevious. "The Satyr's Romp." It was a statement that had no argument.
To be continued. . .
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V
Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X
Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV