by Tiana Laveen
Satyrs were characterized by their ribaldry and were known as lovers of wine, music, dancing, and women. They were companions of the god Dionysus and were believed to inhabit remote locales, such as woodlands, mountains, and pastures.
Satyr – In classical mythology, satyrs were companions to Pan, a fertility god, and Dionysus, the god of wine and ecstasy. … In both cases, the satyr’s animal aspect symbolized his immoderate appetites. This noun can also be used metaphorically for a man whose sexual desire is stronger than his sense of decency.
Sources: Merriam-Webster – www.merriam-webster.com and Vocabulary.com
But what if the Satyr wasn’t an animal at all, but a mere flesh and blood human, born of a woman? What if he walked among us, wielding his magical cock and tongue, cursing our bodies with endless euphoria? Staining our souls with addictive, feverish desire for him, and him alone?
What if he were real, and he was willing to ravish only one woman now… you?
PROLOGUE
Welcome to The Motherfucking Cage.
We’ve Been Expecting You.
Yasmine watched the black limousine speed off, leaving her alone in the quiet yet creepy parking garage in Chicago’s West Loop. The place was called “The Cage,” but this garage only caused her internal rage.
Who would think that a place like this existed in such a posh part of town?
From the outside, the garage looked like one of the industrial has-beens in the city—brick upon brick, concrete slab upon concrete slab, stretched outward in all directions. Yet, the building the garage was attached to was striking. A vintage dream, it screamed of class and sophistication.
That’s all a front, isn’t it?
Shaking herself out of her wayward fears and suspicions, she held onto the little card. The way she had it in her grasp, it was a miracle the damn thing didn’t snap off and break in two.
This was a mistake! Why did I fill out that online form? What was I doing on that website in the first place? If anyone finds out about this, it could get me into some serious trouble! Shit. It’s too late now. Maybe I can get inside and let them know I’ve changed my mind.
Her bones and muscles constricted to the point her dark green leather jacket felt heavy and uncomfortable. Her legs trembled in her black four-inch heels as she shook with each step.
She was never nervous. In fact, Yasmine prided herself on her confidence and poise. She’d looked killers in the eye and not busted a sweat, yet this was an entirely new ball of wax, one now filled with homespun regret. Her gaze roved from left to right, trying to navigate her way to the elevator. She followed a stream of glowing red lights that pointed to where she surmised would be her next destination.
The owner said it would be right over here … oh yes, there it is.
Yasmine placed her special key card inside the elevator door. It opened within a matter of seconds. A cool invisible chill twisted and turned, almost grabbing her by the hand and leading her inside. On a swallow, she stepped inside and pushed for the doors to close, then placed her card in once again, selecting the fourth floor.
The jerky ride up made her insides churn. She leaned into a corner of the elevator, closed her eyes, pressed her hand against her stomach, and talked herself out of puking right then and there. It wasn’t the damn silo, but her nerves; they were an absolute wreck, and it would be a miracle if she got through the next five minutes, let alone an hour.
When the doors finally opened, she stepped out only to be swallowed in a haze of dense smoke, soft music, and crimson walls. She stood there and gasped, then coughed on what she presumed to be hookah smolder, incense, and the burning, sinful souls of many.
No need to be getting all sanctimonious now. You knew what this was about.
Waving her hand to and fro, she made her way over glossy hardwood floors that she’d almost mistaken for being wet.
A damn slip and fall—that would be a nice excuse to go home. And I could sue, too…
She was now standing inside of ‘The Cage’, an exclusive sex club open to members or by special invitation only. Plush loveseats and gorgeously decorated tables filled the place. The furniture was modern and well-made, and the club was crammed wall-to-wall with scantily clad people, all of whom appeared to be in their own little world. So many faces about, most looking high, pumped full of drugs and pure ecstasy. All wore painted-on grins, likely the result of an evening of unadulterated debauchery.
Taking timid steps, she made her way towards the registration table. There stood a tall woman donning all white, except for her boots. Those were blood red, matching her long hair parted down the middle, but the boots caught Yasmine’s eye first. The damn things were thigh high and shiny, reminding her of melted cherry lollipops.
“Uh, my name is Yasmine Prince. I was told to—”
“Yes, my love. I remember seeing your name for this evening. Such a beautiful name. My name is Taz.” The woman winked at her. Yasmine pursed her lips. At this, the woman burst out laughing, then picked up an iPad and scrolled through what appeared to be some sort of registry. “I’m the host. Here you are…” The woman rattled on various rules, regulations, fuck if you dos, fuck if you don’ts.
Yasmine took another peek around the premises and damn near lost her nerve at the sight that met her. What she first thought was a woman straddling a man’s lap, having a fun conversation, was actually a couple in the throes of fucking. The woman jostled up and down on the bastard as if he were some pole, her dress hiked up around her wide hips, shining his rod with a slippery pussy.
As if hearing her thoughts, the woman before her whispered, “They like it when you watch…”
“Oh God, I can’t be here.”
“Yasmine, take a few deep breaths, okay?” The woman’s voice sounded oddly soothing, gently vibrating through her. “You are here to see Raze.”
“Raze? Um, I don’t know who that is, but I’m just here to talk. See, I—”
The woman hushed her, then pulled out her cell phone from her hip pocket and sent someone a text. Within moments, she smiled and looked back into Yasmine’s eyes.
“Stay put. He’ll be here in 10…”
9…
8…
7…
6…
5…
4…
3…
2…
“Hello, Raze. This is Yasmine.”
Holy shit!
A tall, tanned man in jeans and a long black leather jacket with no shirt underneath, messy black hair and an unusual dark blue shade of eyes approached them. A crooked smile softened his features, and she could barely feel her own damn face when her gaze met his. He was fucking beautiful … and it was obvious that he knew it, too.
He’s probably dumb as a doornail. It’s rare to find someone that attention-worthy with a working brain.
She rolled her eyes.
His heavy black boots seemed to move in sync with the music, and each step he took radiated through her like thunder. Without saying a word, he looped his arm around hers and escorted her away from the table.
“May I ask where we’re going?” she asked timidly, suddenly hating the sound of her own voice. Where was her usual command? Where was her customary domineering stance? In the fucking invisible trashcan in the sky, that’s where.
The man kept going, offering no response. He smelled like Burberry sin, musky cologne, and everything Mama had told her ass to avoid.
He looks Italian. Great. A white hooligan with a penchant for arrogance. Fantastic.
She stole glances at him, her panties moistened with appreciation. Straight, wide jawline. Clean shaven, which exposed a cleft in his chin and one dimple that didn’t require a smile to produce. He led her to a spiral staircase that looked as if it were made of black lacquer and red marble. She’d never seen anything quite like it in her life, the alternating colors of black and red on the stairs with flecks of gold, and the red planks seemed to almost glow each time she took a step upon them. As if in ster
eo, she could hear moans, screams of ecstasy, and abrasive curses uttered behind closed doors.
“This is like some house of hormones! What is this? FuckFest?! I want answers! This is not what I expected, Razer, Raze, whatever the hell your name is! This is ridiculous! I need to know right now if—”
“Be quiet. You talk too fucking much.”
“What did you just say to me?!”
This time he ignored her, and squeezed her arm a bit tighter. He didn’t even slow his gait or deign her with a glance.
Bastard.
Once they reached the landing, her heart dropped. An ivory sign read in black italicized font: 5th floor.
She recalled the statement in the private brochure—there had been no description of the 5th floor.
A long, narrow pathway stretched to her right, featuring door after door, after door. Pulling a gold and red hotel key from his jacket pocket, the man slid it in one of said doors. A green light flashed, and he yanked it open, bringing her along. She jumped when he smacked the wall, then the light came on, revealing one of the most opulent rooms she’d ever feasted her eyes on. A large canopied bed sat in the middle of the room, dressed in pitch black sheets, burgundy curtains draping the thing.
Soft yet strange music played, the kind that made you pay attention—perhaps there were some hidden meanings in the lyrics, something that would put her in a trance. In a place like this, she figured anything was possible.
He tossed his coat over a chair and lit several black, ivory, and red candles around the room, then toed off his boots in seconds flat. She stood there with her heart heaving and pulsing as, without a word of notice, he removed the belt from his jeans. The thing dropped to the floor with a clashing sound. His dark jeans soon followed, and then, eyeing her with animalistic need, he snatched his boxers down his legs, exposing a thick, long and veiny cock, surrounded by a thicket of black, wavy pubic hair. Completely comfortable with his nakedness it seemed, he went to sit on the bed, leisurely falling back onto his elbows.
“Sit.” He patted the bed and hooked his fingers in a come-hither motion. After cracking her knuckles a few dozen times, she did as instructed, trying desperately to not stare at his monstrous erection.
“My name is Raze. I’m one of the Cage’s top members and also employees. I’m regarded as a satyr. In fact, I am the best one of my kind that they have.”
“Satyrs? Like a nympho, only the male version?” She lifted a brow.
“Not quite, but it doesn’t matter. That’s just what I’m called. Don’t read into it. Just for the record, I typically pick and choose who I want in advance.” Her stomach flipped at his declaration. “Anyway, don’t get wrapped up in the lingo, the decorations, any of this. I’m here to help women such as yourself have an exclusive, one-on-one experience. I’ve got some information that I want to confirm with you first. Let me know if I have this straight.”
“Okay.”
“You figured out our online riddle, won this prize for an invitation, and were then mailed a brochure. You gave us a call after you looked it over with your special password. You were given a survey in which to detail your desires and expectations, your sexual needs, so we could better get to know you and ensure that your experience this evening would be one you’ll remember for the rest of your life. That’s why we sent a limo to come get you. We do everything in style.” His eyes hooded as he surveyed her, and dare she admit it, she was falling under his magnetic appeal. “You are officially registered. Your STI and HIV tests came back negative. As you know, everyone here is tested regularly. My results are also in the database. I am tested, like all members here, once a month. I am negative of all STIs and HIV. You’re on birth control and now…” He licked his full lower lip, taking her in from the top of her head to her toes. “Here you are.”
“Yes, here I am. Everything you said is correct. I see you had it memorized.”
“Of course I have it memorized. So, to give a run-down, your name is Yasmine Prince. You’re a thirty-seven-year-old attorney, a proud, card-carrying member of the Black Chicagoan Attorneys Association and the Chicago Bar Alliance, and you haven’t had a fucking orgasm with a man, ever. Right?”
“Uh, yes. I can masturbate and have them, but uh, that’s about it.”
“What about with women? Ever fucked a woman and came?”
“No.”
“Ever fucked a man like me?”
“What do you mean by ‘a man like me’?”
“A man of a different race?”
“Yes.”
“What about me, specifically? Is this your first time with a White guy?”
“No.”
“Ever fucked a beast? You know, a dog, horse, any animal basically?”
“What?!”
“Look, Yasmine, let’s not be killjoys, all right? I’m not here to pretend or play fuckin’ games with you. You might like to mind-fuck people in the courtroom, but this right here is my playground. I am here to fuck your brains out and make you experience something you’ve never had: climaxes with a man. A man who is going to shove his hard ass cock in your mouth. A man who is going to pound the shit out of your tight, little, gently used pussy. A man who is going to steal your ass for the very first time and will show you oral pleasure like you’ve never known. This is my job. This is what I do. I do it exceptionally well and I love it.” He placed his hand against his chest as if being sworn into the most prestigious of organizations. “It’s always a bonus when the chick is sexy. I hit the jackpot tonight.” He winked at her and got to his feet. “Now, suck it.”
“What?”
He pointed to his dick. She rubbed up and down her arms as if she’d caught a chill.
“Get on your knees, Yasmine, and suck my dick. NOW.”
A wave of shame washed over her at his words, soaking her panties. She fell to her knees before him, and before she could grab hold of his huge cock, he caught the back of her head and shoved his throbbing member between her lips. She closed her eyes and moaned as he fucked her mouth, his pelvic thrusts fast and harsh. She gagged on the brute, but longed for more, hating herself for how her emotions twisted within. When he tore himself away from her oral embrace, she looked at his massive erection longingly … yearning to taste it a little longer.
“Get up now and take off every strip of clothing. That silly ass shirt with the butterflies … trying to look demure, I suppose.” He grimaced. “And that skirt, too.”
She reached for her blouse, then paused, shutting her eyes when anxiety gripped her by the throat.
“Yasmine … relax. I’m not going to do anything you don’t need…”
She rolled his words over in her mind, considering how they weren’t reassuring in the least. Tugging at her shirt, she discarded it. Her heels and skirt soon followed.
“EVERYTHING! Take. Off. Every. Stitch!” He crossed his arms as if he’d had enough of her already.
In a rage, she removed her bra and flung it hard across the room. She practically gave herself a fabric burn when she removed her panties and threw them too, not certain where they landed.
Before she could give the son of a bitch a piece of her mind, he wrapped his arm around her waist, hoisted her up, and placed her legs over his shoulders, her pussy in his face. She screamed when his hands pressed into the globes of her ass and pushed her flush against his lips. Heat and wetness soon surrounded her zone as he curled his tongue and traced her clit with stiff, pendulum type swings. Stifling her fears by biting into her lower lip, she held on tight, gripping his shoulder, and he began to pace the room while holding her. He walked towards the bed and let her fall back on it. She bounced from the impact and her long black hair unraveled from her updo.
“Relax. You can’t cum if you’re tense. I am here for your pleasure, and that’s what I’m going to give you. Baby steps haven’t worked with you in the past, nor has being nice and sweet. You need a motherfucker like me to take full control.” He pushed her roughly towards the headboard, drawing a sh
riek from her. Her calls for explanation were ignored as he tied her to the posts, legs and arms spread-eagled … everything exposed.
He crawled towards her like some depraved animal, making himself comfortable between her thighs. The heat of his mouth drove her crazy. Even the way he breathed was sexy. He occasionally looked up at her, as if gauging her reactions. Though he was taking her to a place she feared, there was a softness in his eyes to counter his rugged ways.
“That … feels good.”
Raze darted his long, zigzagging tongue in and out of her dripping wet pussy and strummed her clit with his thumb, licking it every so often.
“You just need to be taken … sexually toyed with, enjoyed, explored. Anything you can do to yourself with your fingers, baby, I can do better.”
He moved his mouth faster and faster, a speed she didn’t know was humanly possible. Only her vibrator could move like that—the little silver bullet that gave her so much pleasure after a long, hard day. In a flash, he undid the restraints, allowing her full reign.
“You’re ready now…” he announced before disappearing back between her legs, taking his speed up another notch.
She gripped the silky sheets as her pelvis began to contract.
“Oh my God!” She almost lost it when he glided one finger inside her while working her pussy with his mouth. The sound of him devouring his meal echoed through the room, as if he’d never eaten before … as if she were the most delicious thing to ever cross his lips. Every lick and suck dragged her into a state of awe. Pulling back, he climbed up her body, tugged at a fistful of her hair, and plunged his huge cock inside her pussy, eliciting a groan of pleasure and intrusion.
“Shit!”
His girth stretched her wide and the intensity in his eyes, as he rode her hard and heavy, drove her to near insanity.
“A lawyer, huh? Got it all under control … a big shot in the courtroom. Now you’ve got a big dick in your pussy! Fuck your toys; time to fuck this man! Give me that pussy!!! Cream on my dick!”
