Φολόη Forest, Greece – 1585 AD Cassandra had survived the Minotaur, and escaped its monstrous clutches with her life intact. Surely she need not fear a whispered myth of the faun in the woods. Peasants said such things, invented nightmares in a world filled with them, to corral their women, to force innocent girls to stay within strict boundaries. Cassandra knew better: she could venture into the woods. Even if there was such a creature, a warrior blessed by the gods could handle it. And yet hours later, in the depths of that enchanted forest, she found herself in a sorry state once more. The creature had bared her youthful breasts to the air, each heaving breath jutting them further still. Pale pink nipples capped them almost too well, as sweat glistened, unnatural heat having swelled up from within the young girl. That heat radiated from her core. Simply being near the creature had been enough, been dizzying, been overwhelming, been… arousing. As she breathed the magical pollen fluttering around her, the pleasure in her loins only seemed to magnify. The thick faunhood pulsed between her quivering thighs, rubbing against her. Her leotard had been shoved aside, bared sex touching the thick gnarled shaft, rubbing along with each push. Already it glistened with her want, her arousal, her increasing need. Soon she felt it overwhelming, a familiar sensation amplified far beyond her understanding. “Gods!“ she cried out, half a curse, half a plea. “Spare me! I can’t—I’m—I’m—cummminnnng!” And it leaked from her. More and more of her feminine arousal sliding from her, drawn out by natural magics and her own repressed lust. Cassandra could feel her body jerking, feel her thighs quivering, feel the sensation taking all of her, the sheer pleasure of it exquisite agony she had never been prepared for. Yet the worst was not the climax. The worst was knowing that things had just begun, and feeling the throbbing pillar growing ever thicker between her thighs.