"I want your cock in me," he whispers harshly. "I want you fuck me, Pan..."

His head bent forward as Ganymede felt a tongue on his neck, warm words blowing over the damp flesh as the god moved and spoke. He did want it, and he'd take it however it came, hard and rough and against a tree if that was how Pan wanted to give it. "Make me scream."

Clearly he's gotten less submissive in the time living as a mortal.