but in Roman representations as a man with a goat’s ears, tail, legs, and horns.
This shit is funny. I took Greek mythology in undergrad, but I sure as hell don’t remember this son of a bitch ever being discussed in this manner.
He glared at the ghastly photos of horned and hunched over creatures with huge, uncut dicks slobbering over hordes of naked women while clutching goblets of wine. He laughed at the various illustrations of the mythical creatures. Some of the drawings were clearly comical, others had a rather dark, almost demonic vibe, reminding him of illustrations of Pan. Many were of beautifully crafted naked men in sculpture form, placed in European art galleries for all to see. Yet others showcased a perfect splicing of man and beast with chiseled, handsome features and long, coarse beards. Most were adorned with horse-like tails and menacing expressions. The book had been gifted to him by Taz several years ago. He had never looked at it in depth until now.
He typically kept the hardback on his coffee table, but snatched it up when he finally decided to go through it. As he read, he thought about all the names he’d been called over the years. Some were given to him as a child, nicknames from family and friends. He hated most of the epithets. As a kid growing up in Chicago, a town named Cicero, he was sometimes teased for not behaving exactly like his siblings.
For one, he tended to be more reserved. He enjoyed being alone, taking nightly bike rides instead of playing baseball. He wasn’t into the dances and school functions. Instead, he begged his parents to let him learn Karate and Judo and had an insatiable appetite for watching television shows that dealt with lawyers and crime, ‘Law and Order’ being his favorite. Adding to that ball of wax: His eye color was an unusual royal blue that neither of his parents possessed. He had been born with light blue eyes as a baby, but then they darkened, never turning amber or brown like those of many relatives. According to an ophthalmologist he’d briefly dated, many babies were born with such a color in their eyes, but they rarely stayed that way. Him being of Italian and Greek ancestry, made this even more of an enigma.
‘Hey, Nix, where’d you get those eyes?! The mailman?’
The jokes went on and on…
Fuck all that shit, and the stupid nicknames, too.
As an adult, he did embrace all that made him different and stand out. Not so much as a child. Now though, he took control and named his own damn self: ‘The Rose’ Rossellini. This came to be at work after a client of his was overjoyed from winning what many thought was an impossible case. Nixon had stated the man came out smelling like a rose, and that kinda stuck. Now that was a nickname he could sink his teeth into. He wasn’t an ambulance chaser, a seedy attorney trying to make a quick buck. He prided himself on his professional veracity and truly cared about his clients. He glanced back down at the book and turned another page.
All he’d known about Satyrs from that college class was that they were ugly, beastly creatures who fucked everything that moved, but fucked it well. They were low-tier deities of sort, addicted to sex, carnal temptations and pleasure, worshipped in Ancient Greece.
I definitely love having sex. I’m practically insatiable, but I love giving pleasure just as much as receiving. Making a woman cum is a magical experience… Most men can go through the motions of fucking, but few know how to cause cravings, lingering desires. They don’t understand what a woman’s body can do, and what can be done to it. In fact, most guys don’t understand how to please a woman at all. That’s why these women come to me… to get the shit they never got at home. To get the fucking they believe they deserve, the kind of pussy beating that makes them feel ten feet tall – not the dull, played out, vanilla shit they’re used to…
When he’d first joined The Cage, it had simply been for pleasure. With his voracious sexual appetite at the time, he’d needed a safe place to fulfill his needs, so he’d looked for one. And he’d found it. After an extensive screening process, he was granted clearance. He walked in the club one winter night at one in the morning to fulfill his darkest secrets