The Woods Ch. 01

'Oh nooo...' I wept as I felt the oil trickling down into the tight cleft between my bare buttocks. The creepers around my head wound further, lifting my head up, and my arms were lashed together behind my back so that I could barely move at all -- and then my head was forced around so that I was facing back over my shoulder. It was painful and I opened my eyes, blinking the sticky-sweet oil out of them. My body was trembling with the overwhelming horror of what was happening to me.

I looked over my shoulder, down at my naked back and bottom, and the very sight of it flooded me with shame, that I should be in such an undignified and humiliating posture -- but then, the creepers were pulling my legs apart, and then, to my appalled horror, I saw the stamen of one of the purple flowers rising up between my naked thighs and swelling, visibly, before my eyes, into a thick, fleshy appendage, at least two feet long and an inch thick, and then it was bending, the tip of it lowering until it pointed downwards, and the shaft rose up behind it like a snake and pushed the waxy, bulbous anther of the flower towards my...

'Oh NO! NO! PLEASE, GOD, NO! NOT THAT! PLEASE! PLEASE!' I screamed, and I writhed and gagged with fear and disgust as the thick purple anther lowered itself to the cleft of my bottom and then began, terrifyingly, to push into the cleft, parting my naked buttocks, preparing me for the final humiliation, the unspeakable vileness and degradation that the plant wanted to visit on me. Innocent as I was of the ways in which people have sex, I had some kind of primal animal sense of what it was about to do to me and I bucked and thrashed frantically, trying to evade what was so clearly my destiny, but the smooth, slippery, cool bulb of the anther had little difficulty in pushing the tight, fleshy globes of my buttocks apart and pressing up against the clenched muscle of my anus. It was slightly soft and pliant but the pressure of it between my buttocks felt like it had immense strength behind it.

That's when I knew, clear as day, that the plant wanted to do to me what gay men sometimes did to each other. What men sometimes did to women. I knew that unless a miracle happened, unless my prayers were answered, I was about to be subjected to that. I sobbed with self-pity and managed to gabble out the opening of the Lord's Prayer:

'Ohhh...our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be they name, thy k-kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven...give us this day our daily bread and oh please our Father deliver us from evil, deliver us from evil, please...'

Beneath me, my cock was stiff and that brought tears of shame to my eyes, because I knew that I should not be aroused by the rape that was happening to me. The creepers suddenly yanked me bodily to the left, about six inches, and I felt my cock dragged across the forest floor before coming to rest in a cool, moist, tight fold -- the ovary of one of the purple flowers.

The cool tightness of the flower closed voluptuously around the shaft of my penis, and it seemed to pull on me.

'AAUUUHHHH!' I screamed, my eyes tight shut, horrified, because I was finally realising that it was going to happen and that I could do nothing -- I was going to be raped by the forest, and my own desires in the matter meant nothing at all.

The moist opening beneath me seemed to part once again, and my penis was engulfed by tight, warm moisture, and I strained to look over my shoulder in wide-eyed terror as I saw the shaft of the stamen flex and push down, and then I felt the anther of the flower pressing ruthlessly against my tightly clenched anus. I looked away, shutting my eyes tight and screaming in pain, and then I forced myself to look again, pleading 'PLEASE! PLEASE! Please don't go in my bottom, oh please!'

I strained against it, but it was agony as the thick, muscular bulb of the anther pushed against my tight bottom-hole and at last, oh God, it forced me open, pushing into my anus, violating me, sodomising me.

'OOOOOOH!' I screamed. 'Oh PLEASE no! PLEASE don't rape me! Please don't rape me! Oh please! Oh Lord Jesus deliver me! Oh lord God, SAVE ME! Oh PLEASE!' Then I felt it pushing further in. The pain was terrible. I had had no idea that it hurt so much to be anally penetrated. What made it worse was that the plant had no conscience whatever -- it was simply using me for its own purpose, fucking me up my bottom because it was in its nature to do so.

I was still writhing and screaming, although now my screams were mere wordless howls of pain and humiliation, and the stamen pushed further up into my rectum, piercing me and sodomising me harder. I stopped struggling for a moment and the pain subsided a little, and I felt the shaft sliding even deeper into my rectum, which made me give a guttural grunt of surprise and shock: 'UuuuUUNNHHH!' The shaft slid a little further in, and once again I moaned 'UUNNHHH! Oh PLEASE...!'

It was useless. There was nothing I could do. I was simply being raped, and nothing was answering my cries. No miracle had happened. I was the abandoned victim of an assault so total and so horrifying that I could never have conceived of it. I let myself cry helplessly, and I no longer had the strength to try and resist. I lay there and sobbed as it urgently pumped into and out of my arse, the flower beneath me alternately squeezing and relaxing around the shaft of my penis.

I was a prone naked boy, trussed with creepers and helplessly being raped by the plants in the forest, and almost as soon as I stopped trying to resist, my utter submission to what was happening to me seemed to give the plants some sort of confidence, because I felt another stamen pushing at my lips. Inwardly, I burned with shame but I accepted that this was my destiny, to be raped in my mouth as well. Whimpering, I parted my lips and accepted the stamen in my mouth. Now I was being raped at both ends and I gave in to it, moaning as the fleshy plant organs pumped into my helpless naked body and sought to milk me of my own seed. I felt more creepers swarming over me, faster now, slithering all over my lithe, nude body, feeling me, caressing me, invading every part of me, and they wrapped themselves in a thick weave around my eyes, blindfolding me so that I was reduced even further to a weakly squirming piece of meat, a boy-whore for this rapacious plant that wanted only to plant its seed in my boyish pussy.

Pussy -- that was the word for the hole where the plant was raping me, I realised dimly. It was technically my anus, my arse, whatever you wanted to call it, but in truth it was my pussy, my cunt, and I was nothing but a flesh puppet for the spirit of nature to use as its seed carrier. The feeling of being fucked like a girl made me moan thickly with horror and arousal. Yes, that was what I was, nothing but a girl - a cute young thing with a tight bum and a willing mouth who was ready to let herself be fucked in any and every orifice. I heard my own moans and whimpers rising in pitch and it made my cock more stiff. I pushed my hips back and forth, more than giving in, offering myself, offering my girlish body to this plant, letting it take me, urging it to use me any way it wanted to.

You have fallen, said a voice in my head.

Yes, I confessed.

You are no longer fighting. You have given in.

I am not strong enough to fight this, I said. The thick anther was filling my mouth with that intoxicating scent. I licked and tongued it deliriously.

You have yielded your mouth, your cock, your boy-cunt, said the voice. You have let this happen to you.

I had no choice, I thought, weeping quietly even as I sucked on the stamen in my mouth.

You are no girl, the voice said. Women have more self-respect. You are just a mouth. A penis. A cunt.

The vision of myself, trussed, naked, blindfold, squirming and moaning as the plant mouth-fucked me and buggered me, was flashed across my retina and I could no longer hold it in. I felt myself cumming helplessly, my stiff cock pumping what felt like years of accumulated semen into the ovary of the plant beneath me. I screamed through my mouthful of plant stamen, a wet, choked, bubbling howl of arousal and release. The orgasm tore through my body in a tidal wave of pleasure and sensation.

And then it ebbed. I was limp and gasping. The plant had not stopped raping me. The stamen that was buggering me was sending waves of pain and arousal through me. My virgin anus hurt like nothing I'd ever felt. As I came down from my orgasm, I came back to myself and whimpered pathetically.

The stamen in my mouth was throbbing and suddenly it exploded with fluid -- sweet-smelling and faintly vegetable-tasting. I choked and gasped as the stamen came out of my mouth and pumped more of the thick fluid over my face. The creepers unwrapped from my eyes and more of the sticky fluid was pumped into them, drenching my face in sticky opaque sap, blinding me. Then, oh God, at last, the stamen that was violating me anally came into me, pumping its juice deep into my bowels, impregnating me with its sap, viciously pistoning in and out of my poor, abused bottom. The fluid filled my rectum and burst out, leaking over my bum. The stamen withdrew from me, causing me to yelp with pain. I could feel the creepers unwinding themselves from around my trembling, filthy, raped, naked body.

Then there was just a faint slithering as the creepers withdrew, before I was lying face down, a bruised, naked, violated boy in a pool of the plant's thick purple semen.

I must have passed out for about five minutes because when I woke up, I was not freezing cold and the liquid on my face and body was still lukewarm. I immediately started weeping again, but I made myself sit up -- wincing with agony from the pain -- and wiped the thick fluid from my face.

I was naked and degraded and beaten and filthy. My clothes were in torn rags. Somehow I would have to make my way back home like this.

As I sat and looked through tear-filled eyes at the rags of my clothes, I felt the first drop of rain.

It was warm and I didn't feel cold, but I was still trembling with shock. I sat with my knees drawn up to my chest and hugged myself, weeping quietly.

Then I heard them call my name.

I looked up, and hanging in the light rain before me were three forms. They were translucent and humanoid and seemed to be wearing clothes, although how the clothes stayed on, I couldn't tell -- they were more like tendrils of cloth that clung onto their bodies. Their faces were identical, but their bodies were not. The one on the left was male, the one on the right female, and the one in the middle seemed to shift from one gender to the other. They looked young, about my age, but also somehow ageless. Their skin was a faint, shimmering, golden-violet colour. Their eyes were slightly slanted. They were beautiful. They looked down at me impassively.

I shuddered with fear and hugged myself tighter.

Sandy, they said again, and I realised that theirs was the voice I had heard in my head.

'Wh-who are you?' I gasped.

It was us who brought you here, they said. Do not be afraid.

'Who are you?' I asked them again. 'Why did you do this to me?'

Do you have to ask? they said. We are nature.

'You are the devil,' I said bitterly, feeling the tears pricking my eyes. 'You're the devil, and you want to corrupt me. But I will not let you.'

You are corrupt, they said, but not because of us. You were corrupted when you came here. Now you are on the way to becoming free.

'I am a good Christian!' I cried, and I rose to my feet, my legs shaking, not caring that I was now exposed to them. 'I have faith! You are Satan, and you are trying to seduce me! But it won't work!'

They smiled.

We already seduced you, they said. You gave in. You fell. You let your nature triumph over what you call your faith. You submitted to nature.

'Never!' I cried, through tears of rage. 'How dare you! You...you RAPED me! You took me and stripped me and you raped me! You may have violated my body but I am strong in faith! I will be redeemed!'

Your god did not answer you, they said implacably. You were not saved. Nature took you because your god is not there to help you.

'That's a lie!' I sobbed.

Your god, said the one that seemed female, is a cruel invention of men. A sadistic game-player who tricks men and women into denying nature.

'Jesus died for me!' I said, clinging onto my faith, the only thing that would save me in this sickening world where nature could casually take a teenage boy and rob him of innocence and use him like a piece of meat. The forest seemed to be spinning around me. Only the three forms floating before me were a fixed point. I felt dizzy and sick.

A man died for his beliefs two thousand years ago, and what is that to you?

'He was the Son of God!' I insisted. 'The Son of Man! He died so that I could be redeemed!'

Son of God? said the male one. Son of Man? Which is it? Sandy, your god did not help you. You have no choice. You must accept nature.

'NEVER!' I screamed, and I turned and ran, blindly.

I did not hear them call me. I just ran, plunging through the undergrowth, not caring that I was naked, as the rain began to fall harder and turn colder. Soon it was a downpour and I could barely see from the water streaming down my face -- rain mingled with my tears. It was washing the sticky secretions and oil and semen off my body. My feet were scratched and cut from the twigs and thorns. I ran, weeping, and then I plunged through some ferns and I felt my foot catch on a root.

I flew through the air and landed in soft mud. I managed to keep my face out of it, but as soon as I moved to get up, my legs were sinking.

And, oh God, that's when I knew I was in quicksand.

I did not have the presence of mind to stop moving, to stay calm and work out a way out. I thrashed and screamed for help, but with every movement my legs sank further into the lukewarm mud until I was in it up to the tops of my hips. I looked around wildly for a root or creeper to hang onto but there was nothing. I was sinking further. It was enveloping my naked hips and then I was in up to my waist. Immobilised, I looked around some more, babbling to myself in fear, but the soft mud was drawing me downwards and I could feel it oozing about my naked body as I sank up to my chest.

'HELP!' I screamed. There was no answer. There was nothing.

'Lord Jesus! Save me!' I cried out. I sank further, the mud now oozing around my chest. I tried moving to loosen myself, but I simply sank further in. Now it was up to my nipples and armpits. Finally, I stopped struggling and looked up to the skies, feeling myself sliding, sliding downwards, inexorably...

'Lord God,' I whispered, 'please, I have tried to be a good boy, I have done your bidding, I have loved you with all my heart, I have believed in the redemption of your Son, all I want is to be a good Christian boy -- please, please, Lord, if you can hear me, please, all I ask is that I be saved to do your work...'

It was up to my chin. I tilted my face upwards, feeling it ooze around my ears and the back of my cropped scalp. My arms were above the surface. I held them up to the skies.

'Please, Lord,' I gasped, 'please, save this poor sinner...'

I felt it, coming up around my face, folding up into my ears, the thick black mud on my cheeks, folding about the crown of my head, and then I could see it out of the corners of my eyes as I sank, down, deeper, and I could hear nothing from the mud in my ears, and now it was coming together, folding over my mouth, and I spat it out and let out a last, hoarse 'PLEEEEASE! OH GOD! SOMEONE HELP MEEE!', but then the mud oozed up around my nose and I shut my eyes and felt myself sink into the pit of black mud, and it covered my eyes and folded over my forehead and then I had vanished beneath the surface, my lungs bursting, just my bare forearms above the surface, and then even as my lungs were about to explode and my legs frantically kicked as I tried to touch some bottom of the pit with my toes, but felt nothing, I could feel the mud oozing and forcing itself around my hips, curling about my penis, a thick shaft of it solidifying and pushing between my straining buttocks and I realised with hopeless despair that even here I was not safe, even drowning in thick mud I could be raped once again, and that this was the afterlife for me, to be hanging there, naked, being buggered and violated in the thick black mud forever...

Strong fingers curled about my wrists and I was lifted effortlessly. The mud turned to liquid, parting to release me, and as I felt myself emerging into the air I opened my mouth and hauled in a huge breath of air.

I was saved.

I was let down on solid ground and I simply crouched there, shaking, breathing heavily, my entire body caked in filthy black mud. The rain was still falling but it was lighter again, and warmer. I felt myself being cleansed. It was as if the rain was washing me with gentle hands, making me clean and whole once again.

I quietly thanked God, and opened my eyes.

There they were. The three forms, looking down at me tenderly but also with a faint trace of contempt.

Looking up at them, my chest heaving, as I crouched naked, wet and exhausted on the blessedly hard ground, I understood.

'It wasn't God that saved me,' I said.

It was not.

'You only saved me when I asked for help from somebody. Not from God.'

Their expressions softened slightly.

You saved yourself. You did the human thing.

I hung my head in shame.

In the uttermost despair, when I was quite literally sinking into the pit, when I was entirely alone and helpless, I had stopped asking for help from God and I had cried out for someone else, some person, to rescue me.

My faith had failed.

I looked up at them again, wracked with shame and grief, and they were looking down at me with compassion.

You are not weak. You are not a sinner. You did the right thing.

'But you saved me,' I sobbed.

You saved yourself, they said, and pointed to the ground. There beside me was a thick rope of vine. My hands were raw and stung from the force with which I had grasped it to pull myself out. But hadn't I been taken out? I couldn't remember. And I couldn't remember seeing the vine, or touching it, let alone pulling myself out with it. Already it also seemed so vague, a hazy blur of terror and pain.

Follow us, they said in a kindly tone, and they began to float back through the woods.

I dragged myself to my feet and forced myself to walk after them, retracing my steps back to the glade with the creepers and purple flowers. The rain fell on me, soothing my aching body, washing away the filth and dirt.

I re-entered the glade, and as I did so the rain stopped and the sun shone down. There in a patch of sunlight was my rucksack.

Look inside, they said. I walked over to it and knelt, stiffly, wincing as I did so. Inside it was a clean pair of shorts, some tight briefs and a t-shirt. I had clothes, after all. I was not going to be forced to walk naked out of the woods and seek help from some stranger and have to explain what had happened to me.

I looked up at the three figures, who regarded me benevolently. The warm sun played on my bare body as I knelt in the glade.

You may go, they said. But you will return. You have much to learn. Your nature must unfold, free of the lies and stories that you have been feeding yourself. The next time, when you come back, it will be of your own accord. And you will see and feel much more, and differently, than you did this time. You must learn to become your body. It has much to teach you. In the meantime, be healed, boy. Go home and rest.