I am a Satyr (half-man, half-goat) who recently escaped captivity. Please help me home ^

chupacabra

or Goatse

Keep talking, I'm listening.

It doesn't have to be true to be interesting.

but why can't there be a race of goat/man hybrids
living underground?

Tumnus is that you? I see you have found the entrance to the Wardrobe. Please return to Narnia at once.

The Lord knows of you and your type and we know how you came to be.

[link to www.youtube.com]

How the hell do you people come up with this stuff?



:1ddr1:

Discipline in the classics and the arts.

At last a Satyr has shown himself. My family has been holding this damn panflute hostage for generations. It's become a family heirloom. Now that I know you exist, I demand 4 magic swords, an sack of gold that never depletes, and 21 Satyr hooves in recompense.

Otherwise crawl back into your hole in Romania, Satyr scum.

Ah... that makes sense.

Ummm how do you clean up after it and what do you feed it?

What longevity these ones must have.

so are you upper-body goat or lower-body goat?

usually when myths turn out real, they aren't exactly as the stories go.

Whatever the case, goat cock pics or it didn't happen

I understand my words will be difficult to fathom, almost farcical, yet I speak the truth. I would not endeavor to speak via this media were it not one of my last options.

You see, the men in Romania held their weapons to my chest, aghast and frightened. One of them, thankfully in many ways, told his partner not to shoot - although the other one was most terrified and very almost I neared a gruesome end.

But after much deliberation, and pleaing on my part, they marched me to a barn whereupon they anchored me in with chains to my hind legs. For nine days and eight nights, a small band of people would seek me out; some screamed, some ran away in terror, yet others prodded and poked. One even whipped me with a cat-o-nine-tails just to test my reaction to pain.

I was exhausted, and finally fell into a deep slumber. When I awoke, I found myself in a small container, I was later told it was a 'horse float'. Not only this, my friends, but I was in an aeroplane, high above the lands and waters, flying through the sky. This, I learned, when we touched down and I was wheeled in my container down a ramp and onto a runway.

I looked through the barred window, once on land, to the sight of domed radar buildings, low-lying buildings cloaked in netted camouflage - and all surrounded by outcrops of coconut trees. There were many men in khaki uniforms brandishing weapons in addition. A most strange place, I assure you. The threatening surrounds were only countered by a wonderfully blue and cloudless sky. It was the sky, my friends, that kept me at peace within. For I had not seen such a bright blue sky before, and despite my containment, I will always remember how wonderfully blue that sky was.

So, is your bottom half goat, or top half?

Do you have a tail?

If so, can you waggle it?

BWAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!

:nanafrown:

I find myself warming to your story, OP... do go on.

They have a great language school over there.

A panflute is a musical instrument, not an actual satyr. It's a magical instrument satyrs use to summon armies of undead leprechauns to their side. Very powerful. Alas, pure humans like myself are unable to unleash its true potential. Being of Irish descent, we coveted undead armies of leprechauns, to wage war on the British. It is useless to me now.

Oh I though it was slur against the he goat (Pan).

I wonder how many female Satyrs (Satyresses?) are reading this thread with one hoof down their panties.

Are Satyr computer keyboards like that tap-dance piano in the movie Big, that Tom Hanks and Robert Loggia dance on?

you visited me in my dream- you came in as a powerful energy source, go out the same way.

Are you a capricorn or a virgo?

Also were you created in the year of the goat?

This is just a guess..but I think the top form is human form and quite articulate with the keyboard and knowing how to maneuver the new fangled internet and speak English ..so on and so forth..

Are you the star in The Lightening Thief? heh heh

Well just for the record my friends, I am lower-half goat, upper-half human. That is the way it is for all my brothers and sisters; I know not of lower-half human, upper-half goats.

Before I retire I will let you know more of my conundrum, as I really do seek help and guidance.

Upon landing, I was wheeled into what appeared to be a large hangar, the heavy doors clanging shut with an almighty thud and echoes. The float was lit up by high-powered spotlights, and an English-speaking voice belted out from a hail-phone:

"Come out slowly. Do not run, there is nowhere to run to. Resist, and you will be shot. Flee, and you will be shot. Move suddenly, and you will be shot."

Frightened for my very existence, I obeyed, and backed out of the float, ever-so slowly.

I heard gasps, murmering and even one person throwing up, as I revealed myself to whoever it was who held me captive.

But this is nothing, my friends, of what was to come. It was awful, hideous - disturbingly affronting - my friends.

But I must slumber now, dear ones. On the morrow I shall enlighten you as to the conundrum, what happened in the hangar, about the ones who abducted me and helped me escape the hangar confines, and how I was paraded in front of generals, presidents and captains from many nations.

Good evening, kind-hearted ones.

If you can use internet, you can take a picture of yourself.

Great story telling tho.

Salutations friendly ones. I am back from slumber, and will briefly answer a few questions while there is time.

Domorrow, I learnt on, and use, regular keyboards – the dexterity of my forelegs is sufficiently nimble to allow agreeable typing skills. However, I do use a pair of carefully-crafted ‘fore-rod’ mitts which I place over my forelegs. These mitts have a short pencil-like protrusion by which I utilize for typing.

ZTE, while I am aware of what you allude to, our species does not subscribe to what you consider a monthly or lunar cycle. If anything, we would say we came into being at such and such magnetic point, and at such a time with regards to the strength of the solar winds (en masse) in the Milky Way at that particular time. Hard to fully explain now, but may get a chance later, my friend.

AC, alas I do not have such an instrument of which you speak. It is forbidden for us to take ‘pictures’ using such wizardry anyhow , although I do believe some have photographed me over the past couple of years while in captivity.



But briefly back to my conundrum. You see, after a hideous time of interrogation, being experimented on, being put under the microscope, prodded, poked, laughed at, sneered at and even sexually molested for my seed, a most odd thing happened one night (which I will go into a tad later). Of course, there were one or two kind souls who were supportive and helpful of my predicament while in captivity, and we did become solid friends.

I should also add, while being held captive, I was made to parade in circles, stand on my hindquarters, talk of my life in several of the languages in which I am fluent, and go on and on about where I came from and if there were others like me. Fearful for my brothers and sisters, I have managed thus far to deflect their attention back the existence of the rest of us under The Carparthian Mountains.

Anyhow, one balmy night I was laying in my bed of hay dreaming of my friends and family back home – weary and broken-hearted. Then I heard a most peculiar drilling noise – faint as it was, but getting stronger. I looked over to my right, whereupon movement caught my eye. And soon enough, a small, twirling rod came up and out of the concrete floor. It was cone-shaped, and its tip became increasingly larger as it rose, slowly but surely, turning the concrete to dust as it penetrated up from the depths it came.

Fearful it was another trick or experiment, I feigned slumber.