Tolise | Satyrs
Found in Chapter…
- Rope bondage
- Nipple torture
- Edging and denial
- Blow job
More to the story…
~From the Diary of Elaine Porter, 1987~
I never imagined anywhere could be so beautiful. I learned that this area was once called Thrace by the ancient Greeks. Now it’s just a part of the Turkish coast line. I’ve never seen water this blue, nor a sea that seems to stretch on forever beyond the horizon. The little bungalow we’re renting for the summer is just perfect as it overlooks the ocean to one side, the village to the next, and the mountains to the last. It’s so much fun to have coffee on the terrace and watch the goat herders drive their animals out to the pasture to graze. You can hear their happy little baas all through the day. We plan on staying through the end of the month. It turns out we picked a good time to come. There is some kind of festival happening in a few days, and we’re excited to know our guides have agreed to show us around!
The festival has been going strong since midnight last night! These people sure know how to party! The hotel owner sent us out this morning, insisting we drink a glass of raki to get us started. Since then, I don’t think we’ve gone five minutes without someone pushing a glass of something into our hands, cheering along as people dance in the streets and cheer! I’m having a little bit of difficulty figuring out what exactly is being celebrated, but I think it must have something to do with the farming trade around here being mainly goat focused. Everywhere we turn there are clever little goat masks, clay figures, and little dolls. I’ve bought dozens more than I probably need. But they’ll make cute gifts for my nieces and nephews when we get back.
Today a group of people dressed up in goat costumes, chests bare and faces covered, harassed women in the streets. They never touched them, and the women laughed and swatted at them with switches, yelling insults at them to make them leave. I think it’s a play of some kind. But every time I ask anybody what it means, all I get are smiles and head shakes. Is it some kind of local secret? Something they don’t tell the tourists? I’ve asked the hotel owner, but she won’t say anything to us either. Whats the big deal? Her daughter, who’s about my age, overheard us talking and approached once her mother was out of hearing range. She told us if we wanted to, there was some kind of private festivities going on up in the forests on Friday night. She said if we were willing to bring booze and go on a five mile hike, we’d learn everything we wanted to know about the festival. Robert says she’s going to lead us out there to rob us. He has no sense of adventure! He wanted to take our holiday in Brighton! As if anywhere in Brighton would be hospitable this time of year. I told her I would buy a couple bottles of wine and some beer if she’d show me where to go. Robert said he’d stay behind in case I didn’t turn up by morning.
I’ve never felt so nervous before! Damara and s few of her friends met me outside by the backdoor, dressed in breezy clothing with good hiking boots on. If they’re planning to rob me blind, they’re doing a good job of hiding it. Everyone has a pack with food in it, and Damara even has her’s in neat tupperware containers so it won’t go bad. Her boyfriend tells me we can drive about half the way, but after that it’s a two hour hike before we reach the glen. As we pile up into the back of his truck, I can see blankets and pillows, as well as a lot more booze. Seems we’re all out for a good time tonight. The truck ride is bumpy once we get out of town, more so once we start heading down dirt roads barely big enough for the automobile to fit! Damara helps me hold on with a much more solid standing than I have! Once we got to the end of the street, everyone piles out, lifting up lanterns to help light the way. Damara’s boyfriend took the lead, and as we began to hike, they started singing. I’ve not got a tongue for languages myself, but I could make out the words well enough.
Hey hey Mr. Goat, tonight we come to play!
Dance around and drink with us, tonight
Morning will wait for another time
Here, here Mr. Goat, don’t’ you want to play?
Don’t we make for a fancy sight?
We can’t stay long so come and join us!
Goats again. I’m going to be very disappointed if we end up getting drunk in a goat field and I have to go back and tell Robert about it. We started out from town around dusk, and now it’s dark enough out that if I hold back a moment and let the lanterns go in front of us, I can see nothing above me but a vast sea of stars and the vague outline of the mountainside. I thought the sea here was beautiful. It’s nothing compared to this sight.
After a two hour hike, I see a huge bonfire has been set up in the middle of a glen. Apparently we aren’t the only ones who know about this place. About a dozen others have already arrived and lie about on blankets, passing bottles of booze around. Most of them look like the locals, but they don’t seem to mind me being there in the least. I brought alcohol. That makes me a welcome guest. I don’t expect this to end up as more than just a nice story to tell to my friend back home. I spent a night in the woods drinking with the locals! Better than Brighton at any rate! As the evening continues, someone pulls out a guitar. Within moments a flute and drums make an appearance. They start up with the cute little goat song once more, and some of the women start dancing.
As we all begin to get quite drunk, I notice the amount of clothing is becoming scarce! I’m starting to wonder what exactly it is I’ve been invited to partake in, when I begin to hear strange noises in the woods around us. It takes me some time to discern it’s origin. The sound is woodwind based, but much lower and more reedy. I don’t know it. But it calls to me somehow. Like a melody I can hear in the back of my skull.
I don’t hear the first shriek. It sounds high and delighted, and is followed by the rustle of bushes. What turns my head is the heavy baa of a goat echoing around us. Now everyone is up and moving around, drunk and dancing. I turn back to the party, woozy and trying to figure out why there are more people now than there were before. In my stupor I saw someone dark from the thicket in one of those tacky plaster goat masks, grab one of the men, and make off with him into the bush with a hardy baa! Goodness me, what have I gotten myself into! I started to run for the trail, thinking that if I could make it away from the fire, I could surely find my way back to the truck and wait for Damara and her friends to come and find me. Behind me I could hear the thrilled shrieks and laughter amid the rustling of bushes. The sound of heavy breathing echoes around me and I can’t help but turn to see…
I don’t remember what happened next. I know I fell. I know I was grabbed and lifted up over a broad set of shoulders, the pressing of a horn in my back holding me in place! I struggled for a moment, only to be clapped on the ass and drug off through the brush, the deep, ruddy scent in my nose. I could feel curled and thick fur in my hands, and as the light of the bonfire dimmed, I could not see who had decided to abscond with me! Moments later I found myself flung down on a thick bed of sweet grass and blankets, a heavy form standing above me.
“Don’t be afraid.” He rumbled with a deep baa, shaking his shoulders and chuffing as his body got close to mine. “You’ll like this. They all do.”
Around me I could hear the sounds of others enjoying themselves enthusiastically. I can not see anyone else. Thought of Robert vanished from my mind as a velvety soft muzzle came down and nipped playfully at my neck. I can only blame the alcohol! But as the hands settled around my wrists, holding me firming in the earthen bedding, I parted my legs and moaned out loud in an enthusiastic invitation.
I woke up the next morning, still cradled by the strange nest like bedding I had been dropped in. I can’t help but feel a sense of shame. My body is sore and my thighs ache, but there is wetness staining the blankets under me, and most of it is from me! I can never let Robert know what happened! I barely remember everything! But it seems my mystery affair is nowhere to be found! As I stumble on legs like jello back to the bonfire, I see others making their way from the woods, all with the same drowzy, hungover look. Damara found her boyfriend and though it seems they both spent their night apart, neither seems upset about it! Everyone starts a search for clothing and grabbing a bit of food before we pack up and start our way back to the truck. No one says much, exhaustion apparent on everyones face as we load up and start the long drive back. Damara turns to me, offering me some fruit and a bottle of water. “Your fiancee, he can’t know.” She explains simply. “You only get to know if you come. And he chose not to. Do you understand?” As if I would want to share my drunken affair with him! I promised her not to say a thing. We stop at river to clean ourselves up and wash our clothes before getting back. I start concocting a story for Robert. It’ll be easy enough to tell him we got a bit drunk, played music, and fell asleep in the woods overnight. The real problem will be telling him we can’t do anything until my body starts to feel normal again.
I am a terrible fiancee.
I swore to myself to forget that night in the woods. Damara has said nothing about it since then. Even with the festival gone and my body no longer sore, I can not let go of the feeling of that night. I tried to make love to Robert, erase that memory from my brain. But even as I let him take me and pushed myself to adore it as I used to, I find Robert to be horribly…less than usual. It weighs on my mind. I always enjoyed it when we were together! Why is it different now? Why does it feel like he’s not even inside of my anymore? I think he knew. He insisted on licking me after we finished to try to get me there too. But it didn’t do any good. I think I’ve hurt his feelings.
We’re do to leave in a few days. I have to know what happened before we go, but I can’t get Damara to talk to me about it. She just waves her hands and tells me it’s a festival thing. I can see the worry in her eyes that I might have told Robert. I can’t. I couldn’t! But I have to know what happened! I’ve tried every night since then with Robert, even with myself. But it won’t work. Nothing feel good enough. Is it guilt weighing me down? Did something awful happen in the woods? I’m determined to go back before we leave and see if I can find out anything. I’ll have to sneak out again, so I’ve slipped Robert a sleeping pill. He uses them sometimes to help with his allergies. A little in his evening tea does the trick. I’m fairly certain he didn’t notice. Once he starts snoring, I’m sneaking back out. I remember the way well enough. No matter what happens, I’m not coming back until I know for sure.