His voice, a voice she had often dreamt off when she was a child, not in this situation, of course, was melodious and calming, and his body was all but inviting her to fuck herself on his phallus. Which is what she did. Against her better judgement at first, out of pure necessity afterwards. She felt her virgin blood mix with her pussy juices, and this enabled her to shift with less pain, until, finally, the pain disappeared and was replaced by a most pleasant friction. His help aided her immensely, allowing her to properly position her legs so she could bounce up and down without putting strain on her already strained muscles.<br/><br/>Her breasts were without support, and they swayed as she did, her nipples hard little nubs now, her areolas enlarged by the sexual excitement that was slowly passing through Galla's persona. She had forgotten about slavery, she had forgotten about Amazons. For that time, she had forgotten about everything other than the satyr and his claiming cock. Her lips parted and out came a soft gasp, doubled by a moan. She lay her head back and pressed down. Hard.