Victims of Enchanted Pleasure

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Meredith is plucked from this world, yet still here.
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WFEATHER
WFEATHER
1,905 Followers

Meredith awoke in the middle of the night. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and pressed the backlight button on her watch: 2:49AM. Given that the canvas of the tent was not illuminated with moonlight, she reasoned that the clearing in which she had pitched the tent was now in the shadow of the mountain's tall peak, or at least the shadow of the nearby tree line.

Faintly, she thought she heard something. Remaining absolutely still and quiet for several moments, Meredith heard it again: a whimper. It was an odd sound, seemingly human, likely female, yet when she had crawled into the tent, she had been alone in the clearing, and had assumed that there were no other humans in the area, and perhaps not even on this side of the mountain.

A few moments later, Meredith heard the whimper again, this time a little louder. Yet, she did not hear the sound with her ears; instead, she "heard" it in her mind. Further, it was very clearly a feminine sound, the sound of a young woman experiencing the opening stages of the pleasures of the flesh – a sound Meredith herself had often made, albeit usually at her own hands and toys.

Quietly, cautiously, Meredith unzipped the sleeping bag, the slightly-cool air of the tent rushing inside to momentarily chill her naked body. Slipping out of the sleeping bag, she reached blindly toward where she thought she had put the flashlight.

The whimper in her mind was now a soft, heavy breathing, with an occasional low moan. There was something compelling about that sound, about the fact that it was a feminine sound. The "voice" seemed to fill Meredith's head, growing louder and more insistent.

Suddenly, the flashlight no longer mattered. Meredith's right hand, almost of its own volition, snaked underneath her torso, the fingers gently stroking between her thighs. How many times had she performed this very act, screaming her pleasure into a pillow before pulling the sheets back over her glistening skin and drifting off to a well-satisfied slumber?

The first "voice" in Meredith's head was joined by a second, and soon a third – both new "voices" distinctly feminine, and one with an Oriental accent. The desire, the need, grew within her, her own, true voice joining those in her head.

More feminine cries began to echo in her skull, propelling her fingers to dance and lunge faster and with more forcefulness. Her body humped her hand as unintelligible sounds escaped her lips and filled her ears.

It suddenly sounded as if hundreds of young women filled Meredith's mind, their "voices" now holding a directional quality and surrounding her, encircling her. With a sudden flick of a fingernail across her clitoris, the primal pleasure surged through her body, culminating with the loudest climactic scream ever to have attached her ears, and after several powerful spasms, her body collapsed, exhausted, sated, yet desiring even more.

Still, the cacophony of the myriad "voices" continued, permitting Meredith little opportunity to bask in her own afterglow before her desire began to truly sprout anew. But this time, either in spite of or due to the many orgasmic cries resonating throughout her head, Meredith felt a compelling need to leave the tent, to step out into the cool nighttime mountainside air.

Moments later, she crawled out of the tent on one hand and two knees, her other hand furiously working once again between her thighs. The chilly air did not affect her, nor was she consciously aware of the dew upon the grass of the clearing. The upper part of the slope, where she had pitched her tent, as still in the shadow of the tree line, but the lower two-thirds of the clearing were brightly lit by the full moon.

Across several wonderfully-agonizing minutes, Meredith hobbled her way down the gentle slope like a puppy with a wounded front paw. Her voice rang loud and true in her ears, her lungs burning as they demanded more oxygen, her blood surging so quickly through her body that she could feel every last vein and artery.

Once at the center of the clearing and fully bathed in moonlight, another set of powerful spasms wracked young Meredith's body. For just a moment, the lone voice filling her ears overpowered the cacophony filling her skull. Her vision wavered and blurred as the dam behind her eyes finally broke, the release unleashing tears of primal joy.

As the afterglow befell her, the primal screams renewed in Meredith's mind. Yet, she could sense a long point of calm, of quiet: down slope and a little to the left, just beyond the edge of the clearing. As her desire grew anew, Meredith slowly hobbled forward – no longer did she feel like a wounded puppy; instead, she felt like a wounded bitch in insatiable heat.

Twice before reaching the tree line, her body was forced to succumb to primal pleasure; each time, the throng of orgasmic "voices" in her head was momentarily drowned out by the sound and the ferocity of her own hoarse screams piercing the calm, cool mountainside night.

At last, the insatiable wounded bitch hobbled into the forest. The dewy grass of the clearing gave way to a hard-packed dirt covered with ages-old fallen leaves crushed by the passage of innumerable wild animals. Through blurry eyes, Meredith could just faintly see the source of the inexplicable silence ahead: a tree.

Ten feet... five feet... two feet... one foot... six inches...

She collapsed at the base of the tree when the next afterglow enveloped her. All around her, the clamor of feminine passion echoed loudly inside her skull as Meredith fought for breath following the most recent climax.

Feeling sated, at least for the moment, she was able to finally pull her hand away from the base of the tree. A thin shred of consciousness marveled at the inexplicable actions which had taken control of her body and unleashed such an overwhelming deluge at both the top and bottom of her torso. She was still breathing heavily, and it hurt, her throat so painfully dry and raw from her many screams of pleasure.

Meredith knew she needed to stand, but she still did not completely trust her legs to be able to support her. Her right hand, still copiously coated with her liquid desire, reached out to the trunk of the tree so she could use the tree for support as she carefully clamored to her feet.

But as soon as her wet fingers made contact with the rough black bark, her fate was sealed. Her cries suddenly filled with terror, the tree slowly sucked Meredith inside itself, as if ingesting her. Her voice was to never again be heard by human ears, only by the minds of future victims of this enchanted forest.

WFEATHER
WFEATHER
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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 17 years ago
More....

Tell us more...Meredith can't stop here...

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