Much Too Real

With the first year of college behind her at last, Melanie returned to the same grove of trees where she had first found the silver chain necklace with the thin silver crescent moon pendant. From the moment she had first donned that very necklace more than three years earlier, she had felt different, as if a sudden surge of electricity had swiftly risen up from the ground and permeated her entire being. In the minutes immediately following that life-altering moment, she had discovered that magic was indeed in her grasp, albeit not firmly (yet), and that to a large extent, she needed only to concentrate her attention on something to cause that event to happen.

Once in college, her first – and thus far only – roommate had slowly seduced her, so that by the end of their first month together in the smaller-than-average dorm room, Melanie and Anna were making love several times per week, and almost always sleeping together in the same tiny bed. While Melanie had long admired other girls and had consciously wondered what it would be like to become intimate with another female, Anna had finally brought her deep curiosity to the foreground and introduced her to the soft, sensual, delicate pleasures only one woman can give to another.

At last, after nearly a full academic year of earth-trembling sexual experiences at the hands and lips and tongue and teeth and fingers and toys and devious mind of her roommate-turned-girlfriend, Melanie thought to try something new with her magic, which is what had lured her back to this very location: a thick grove of trees in the middle of a massive clearing some two miles from the very home where she had been both pleasurably conceived (according to her now-widowed mother) and lovingly raised.

Within the grove, the grass had given way to a hard dirt ground, covered with the thousands of leaves which had fallen here over time and been trodden upon by countless animals and few humans. Various vines grew up many of the tree trunks, while others hung from the lowest of the branches. These vines were strong – on more than a few occasions, Melanie had given the stereotypical Tarzan call while swinging on these very same vines.

On this overcast day, the light was noticeably dim within the thick grove, which seemed to create the perfect "mood lighting." Now nearly two full weeks since she had last been blissfully naked in Anna's arms, Melanie was already quite in the mood for some intense toe-curling pleasure.

Kicking off her sandals, Melanie leaned back against a vineless tree, its dark-brown bark a bit rough as it pressed against her through the white Betty Boop t-shirt. Looking down her body, her vision confirmed what she already felt: Her nipples were as hard as highly-polished pebbles, poking directly against the large Betty Boop image since she had purposely not worn a bra that afternoon. The scant breeze that penetrated the thick grove brushed against her bare legs and rustled her black miniskirt, creating just enough airflow for her pantyless crotch to revel in the occasional wafts of air.

Closing her eyes, Melanie took a few long moments to clear her thoughts. She then created the magical bubble, feeling it form initially around her and then slowly expand to surround the entire grove. While it was not a requirement to form the magical bubble, she had learned that performing her magic was somehow easier within such a space. She reinforced the invisible barrier with an additional thought to prevent any potential noise she might make from escaping the confines of the grove.

Melanie slowly opened her eyes and noticed a single green vine sprawled across the ground near her bare feet. A thought caused a smile to form upon her upper lips, and she closed her eyes as she felt a moistening behind her lower lips.

It took several long breaths for her to hear the very subtle sliding along the ground. Then she felt the first touch upon a single toe as the tip of the vine reached her. Despite her gasp – both from the sensation of being "touched" by a plant, and from the realization that her magic was indeed working as she had intended – she continued to focus her concentration upon that single vine.

Slowly, as if with a deliberate mind of its own, the lone vine snaked its way around Melanie's left ankle and stealthily worked it way up her lower leg. It was a very eerie feeling, being molested by a plant, but the extreme weirdness of the situation brought on a special, delicious charge all its own. Besides, when her roommate had not been around, Melanie had stumbled upon and then purposely investigated bondage play on the Internet, and this was now the first time that she could truly experiment with that type of sexual play without being discovered and potentially interrupted.

Confident that the initial vine could essentially function on its own, the experimenting magician cast her mind about her, locating another nearby vine even as her hands found their way to her amble chest. With the kneading of her pebble-tipped proud breasts through the t-shirt, the wetness which had begun to pool within her finally started to seep from the base of her torso, slowly carving its way down her left leg toward the ascending vine as the second vine at last made contact with her right foot and began to snake similarly up her well-toned appendage.

Would Betty Boop appreciate something like this? Melanie wondered idly as Japanese cartoon images of young women being assaulted and raped by tentacles and alien plants filled her mind's eye. Would Anna appreciate being teased this way?

Yet another shockwave traveled from chest to groin, causing more of her liquid passion to spill from her body. Losing herself in the sensations she was feeling, she was breathing loudly, her chest beginning to heave. In the haze of her exponentially-growing lust, she suddenly envisioned herself in a seemingly-deadly tangle of vines, held firmly against the tree, her body struggling to move against the suddenly-sentient plant life as a particularly thick vine repeatedly drove itself deep inside her. Despite having always kept as quiet as possible when in the throes of ecstasy, Melanie could practically hear the unprecedented, raucous, frenzied screams spewing forth from her own lips as her hips attempted to move to the rapidly-quickening rhythm of the invading plant.

"Fuck me, Anna!" she exclaimed softly between gasps for air, suddenly envisioning her nude roommate and lover avidly watching the inhuman encounter while slowly stroking a copious amount of clear lubrication along the angry, massive red phallus jutting obscenely from the black strap-on harness. A second later, she felt something knocking at the door to her most intimate treasure, and the vision of her beloved Anna dissipated as her eyes snapped open and looked lustily down her own body.

Both vines had climbed completely up her parted legs, disappearing underneath the miniskirt. Clearly, it was one of the vines brushing against her aroused labia as her passion continued to leak from her body. The action from the leafy tip of the vine was soft, gentle, a loving and respectful caress which unleashed a series of soft moans from the molested young woman. Her hands continued to manipulate her breasts, perpetuating the sparks of electric joy speeding from chest to clitoris and steadily increasing the flow of her own desire down her legs.

May the grove have its way with me! Melanie thought haphazardly as her mind cast about in search of additional vines to draw to her.

Almost instantly, the young magician sensed more than felt or heard the rapid movement around her. The ground suddenly rose to form a steep hill, engulfing her legs up to about mid-thigh, negating any chance that she may have had to flee. Several more vines rushed at her, somehow snaking underneath the base of her t-shirt and sliding into place around her upper torso; still more vines seized Melanie's wrists and pulled them skyward before anchoring themselves around a thick upper branch of the tree. The tree itself became involved, its long lower branches sliding into position to cross before the magician like a lover hugging her from behind.

As the vines underneath her skirt continued to stroke her labia and clitoris, Melanie felt something cool and rock-hard pressing insistently at her dripping portal. That was when she began to truly panic, when her loss of control over the bizarre situation abruptly transitioned from wonderment to terror. Her intense fear caused her to scream, loudly, and instigated the instinctive fight-or-flight mechanism so critical to human survival.

Melanie's scream changed to an intense howl with whiplash speed as what could only be a phallic-like rock sheathed itself deep inside her body. She looked down her body, past the writhing tangle of vines underneath the Betty Boop image and past the leaves from the tree enveloping her, but cursed the skirt for blocking her view of what was happening between her legs. Fortunately, once lodged deep within her, the rock-hard phallus remained inert, but the constant and vain struggles of her highly-frightened body created more than enough friction within her flooding passage to cause arousal to slowly overcome fear.

More vines climbed tree and woman, now wrapped around the outside of her clothing. Tears cascaded from Melanie's eyes, blurring her vision when she dared to open her eyes again. She screamed again and again and again, pleading for the terrible ordeal to mercifully end, calling for assistance from every deity she had ever heard mentioned even just once in her life.

Then the first climax wracked the helpless magician, just as she screamed her lover's name once again. Melanie's body was momentarily rigid, taut with the rush of her pent-up tension attempting to escape around the solid rock which impaled her. With the continuing gentle brushing of the leaf-tipped vines against her engorged labia and her ultra-sensitive clitoris, she screamed again, her body bucking violently against her will as she felt her conscious mind attempting to block out the inhuman experience being unnaturally inflicted upon her.

*****

It was rather dark in the grove when Melanie returned to full consciousness. She found herself face-down upon the hard ground, her mouth as dry as a summertime desert. Her clothes were sticking to her, seemingly attached to her skin by her own sweat. She could smell her musky scent in the nearly-still air, and could feel a trickle seeping from her sex to moisten the front of her miniskirt.

Somehow, the terrible ordeal had come to an end. Somehow, she was free. Trembling with latent fear, Melanie cautiously looked around her, and found the grove exactly as she had initially found it that afternoon – the only change was the amount of lighting and the unmistakable perfume of her own sexuality.

The fact that she could smell her own passion in the air meant that she had not simply imagined nature's assault both upon and within her body. It had indeed been real.

Too real.

Casting her mind about the area, Melanie could no longer sense the bubble. She looked at a nearby vine and did not find anything unusual, no sign that it had so ruthlessly restrained her or teased her earlier in the day.

She did, however, spot an elongated rock sticking up out of the otherwise-smooth ground, the tip well-curved. Slowly, Melanie raised herself to her hands and knees and crawled to the rock, pulling intently to liberate the stone phallus from the ground and noticing that it felt slightly damp. Lifting the odd rock from the ground, she sniffed it, and once again her nostrils were filled with the scent of her own sexuality.

Much too real.