The Forest Claims All

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Victoria stretched her arms and yawned idly, the cool Atlantic breeze ruffling her dress. The deep forest, something she’d never seen in England, rustled and quaked. Their Virginian song had played since they day they’d come ashore, and she hoped it’d never end. She traced a circle in the loamy soil, swinging the basket as she leaned against the thick trunk of the hastily erected wall surrounding the village.

A pair of hands dug into her sides, and her assailant shouted as Victoria yelped and spun around. Her friend, Martha, held a hand over her mouth, as she shook with mirth. “For shame, Martha, you scared me!” Victoria gasped, hand clutching her bosom. The younger woman tried in vain to collect herself, and was still giggling when she had retrieved her basket from her hiding place.

“My apologies, dear Victoria. I couldn’t restrain myself,” she said, her dark locks bouncing as she bowed her head in a curtsy. Victoria huffed. “We can talk on the way there, Martha, but we don’t have much time before dark. Besides, I’d like to get the pies done before supper is served.”

“Then we ought to move with haste,” her friend replied. The two began down the trail and into the woods. Really, the whole town was in the woods, but enough area had been cleared out to make a distinctive treeline. The girls’ dresses would be relatively safe, so long as they stayed on the well-worn path to the orchards. On either side, however, any number of branches or saplings could snag the thin material of their clothes, and made outings such as this somewhat hazardous. As such, Victoria and Martha didn’t really talk much at all.

However, Martha, somewhat more experienced at avoiding the forest’s seemingly innocuous traps, found her eyes wandering towards her friend more than once. She had a fondness for the feminine shape, particularly that of her childhood friend. She had eventually discovered that she preferred the womanly body and mind over that of a man. It was a secret she hid deeply, for fear of reaction of the townspeople, let alone her father. But, when they were in private, she would let her eyes roam the shapely form of her friend.

Victoria was tall, even more so than a few of the men, but it wasn’t enough to make her freakish in the eyes of the others. Quite the opposite, in fact. With her lush lips, deep, thoughtful eyes, pale skin, and, erm… abundant hips, she had the privilege of being able to safely reject an eager man’s offer of courtship. Martha was not particularly displeased with this, seeing as it allowed her to spend much more time with her, though she knew it to be somewhat selfish.

Martha herself was not nearly as luscious a woman as Victoria but she could still stand out in a crowd. She had a pleasant face, one that beckoned people to her. She had a bright personality, somewhat too outgoing in her father’s opinion. Her father’s disdain towards the “immoral tendencies” of the village men and her mother’s very prim nature kept all but the most determined young man away from her. Not that many didn’t think about it. The men, especially Nicholas, that dog of a man, would let their gaze linger on her curvaceous torso an indecent amount of time.

It was one of the few things in which she had Victoria beat. She had spied the girl exiting the bath once, and was surprised to see that she was, in fact, larger around the chest than the woman she admired. Still, she felt so hopeless, whenever she remembered the night when Victoria had shown her what she looked like wearing a corset. How she looked in a real dress, with a lovely white gown that hung far down on her breasts, exposing so much of the top her round, soft skin like a lady from England. Victoria’s breasts looked so precious, their gentle swells over the top of the corset divided by ample cleavage, brought to attention by the corset. She remembered how hard it was to not reach out and free them, to pull herself against them, and to take Victoria, right there…

Martha felt a chill run up the length of back, the small hairs of her neck rising as her skin became covered in goose-bumps. She resisted the urge to shudder. “Do you ever think about the dance?” she asked, trying to replace her lewd thoughts with idle conversation.

Victoria gave a surprisingly un-ladylike snort. “Unfortunately, yes. If we ever have one again, I’ll inform the rest of the women to avoid Colin, should they value the bones in their toes. My feet still smart just thinking about the ordeal.”

Martha smiled. “Was he really that bad? Aren’t all men clumsy around a proper lady?”

Victoria blushed, thankful that Martha couldn’t see her. “I suppose most are.” She turned and said aloof, “Perhaps the men were just too scared to ask you for the pleasure of a dance? It would certainly explain why you remained on the side the entire time…”

Martha looked aghast, mock horror staining her features. “I’ll have you know William and I danced the entire time, thank you. It was quite the wonderful experience.”

The taller girl gave a vague, unconvinced sound. “Do you gaziantep escort fancy him?”

Martha, her eyes fixed on her companions golden hair, tucked into an enviably fancy bun, replied without thinking. “Of course not. I don’t like men.” As soon as the words left her mouth, her eyes shot wide, and she clapped her free hand over her lips. To her relief, Victoria didn’t show any reaction to her words.

“I don’t blame you. But, hopefully, the right one will come along some day. We’ll just have to wait,” Victoria said thoughtfully, giving a small sigh as she finished.

Martha’s heart resumed its weak pulsing. Had Victoria misinterpreted her meaning? Had she really been so lucky, or would the blonde beauty see through her naivety and realize Martha’s secret? Or, perhaps, she did know what Martha had really said! Maybe she already knew! And if she hadn’t reacted in fear or anger, did that mean she accepted Martha’s freakish nature? And, if she did, what did she mean by “we’ll just have to wait?” Could Victoria fancy her as well? No, that didn’t make sense in context, she was looking too deep into her words.

Martha bit her lip thought, stepping over a large stone on the path, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, to see a still Victoria pointing into the deeper shrubbery.

“Look!” she whispered. Martha traced the line of her arm and finger, until she could see the stranger. She stared wide-eyed at the woman slowly making her way through the forest. She was a savage, an “Indian” woman. Martha had only ever seen their men, and that was many years ago. She was perplexed at the woman’s appearance and manner. The woman, she realized after a moment, was naked. Heavy breasts swung as she moved, rivers of white running down their curved underside and down her flat belly. She walked strangely, somewhat shakily, through the forest, her arms hung limp at her sides, barely moving as she strode through the forest. It gave the impression that she’d been thoroughly loved to somewhat recently.

The woman’s hair was exquisite. It ran the entire length of her body, great waves of black beauty drifting around her ankles. She walked barefooted, her olive skin gracing the fallen leaves that carpeted the forest floor. Her hips swayed from side to side in a lulling repetition. She was Venus, a goddess of beauty.

Martha could almost feel herself… moisten. She shuddered.

“What is she doing? Why is she out here, alone?” Victoria asked worriedly. Martha struggled to focus, a cloud beginning to shadow her thoughts.

“Could she be mad? Or possessed?” Martha croaked, her voice suddenly hoarse, in fear, or perhaps another quite strong emotion…

Victoria shook her head. “I don’t know, and I’d rather not find out. We should go back to the town; if an Indian woman is here, there surely are Indian men around as well. Perhaps she is bait for ill-meaning workers.”

“No!” Martha lurched in surprise, grasping the folds of Victoria’s dress. She felt an unnatural pull to the woman. She had to follow her, and if she didn’t, she’d regret it as long as she lived. “We need to go follow her. What if… what if she tries to set fire to the orchard?” She groaned inwardly at the ludicrous nature of her rationality.

Victoria’s stunning face drew into a look of confusion. Martha swallowed, trying to wet her suddenly dry throat. “I’m just saying we should make sure that she doesn’t make trouble.” Martha pleaded with her face, the urge to move growing stronger as the woman moved farther and farther away from them.

Victoria looked torn. “She’s headed through the orchard, but she’ll end up in Indian territory. If we’re not careful, we might stumble into it as well,” she reasoned, her legs crossing as she began to submit to the image of the nude woman that fixed itself in her mind.

Martha shook her head violently, hair loosening itself from its carefully arranged pattern. “We’ll be careful; I know the area like the back of my hand!” They both knew the danger that trespassing the Indian land posed, and she knew the strangeness of the being they’d just witnessed. And yet, Victoria couldn’t help but nod her assent.

Victoria felt oddly detached from herself as she went strode off the path. They followed the woman, close behind. She could smell her scent, a torrid, rich aroma. The material of her undergarments began to feel less soft and loose, and more tight, itchy, and painful.

They never saw the orchard. Victoria couldn’t explain why; they’d gone right to where it should’ve been. Martha was too busy drinking in the indecent sight in front of her. The woman didn’t even acknowledge their presence, even though they made no effort to conceal their pursuit. As they followed, they quickened, and as they moved faster, so did the rate at which they lost control. Time and motion began to blur to the women, their arousal seizing their minds.

They crossed a stream, making no effort to find a bridge or dry path. Water rushed over their feet, konya escort and their damp dresses began to pick up more and more dirt. Martha found herself pulling off her shoes and tearing at her dress. They were practically sprinting now to keep up with the dark-skinned woman as Nature swallowed them. Victoria saw Martha reach out and caress the woman’s bare back, sliding lower and lower until she felt the warm surface of her bottom. She was losing herself, drawn further and further into her mind as she gave way to her id.

Martha had already passed the point of no return. She made no effort to resist the ocean of lust that pushed at her mind. She found strength she didn’t know she had, tearing the front of her dress apart. She longed to be as free and at ease with her natural form as the woman she followed. Her breasts swung free, her dress in pieces in the forest behind them. The trees, the bushes, the rocks, they all seemed to move to the side, clearing the way for the women as they moved faster and faster. Martha moaned as her hands roved across the Indian woman’s backside, but she couldn’t move fast enough to keep her hands on for very long.

Martha cursed her inability to both pleasure herself and touch the woman as she ran. She cared no more for the danger of the Indian men. Let them come, let them cum, she thought. She wanted to be ran down, to be tied up, to be raped and used and pleasured. She wanted to grovel at their feet to grace her with their meat for the rest of her life. She would offer her body freely, and wished for this more than anything in her life. Along her would be Victoria, and when night fell, and the men were worn from a timeless orgy, she would fall into her lover’s arms, and they would consummate their undying love. She would be Victoria’s, and Victoria would be hers…

As soon as their journey began, it ended. Victoria’s clothing was in tatters, barely held onto her sweaty body. She was dimly aware that time had passed faster than it should have, as the moon hung high in the sky. She regarded the form of the pale woman beside her… Martha. Yes, it was Martha who had knelt in front of the dark-skinned woman. She had her mouth pressed against the woman’s slit, her jaw moving and head bobbing. The woman ran a hand through Martha’s hair, rocking her hips against a furious tongue.

Martha was in bliss. She could not, would not stop herself. She felt her control slip completely, as her hand dug into the woman. She needed her, needed to feel her, to taste her, to have her. Her finger dug into the woman’s anus, pushing the tight orifice apart to gain entry. Her tongue rubbed, pierced, and flicked. It was all motion she had never practiced, yet knew at some primal level. Her free hand pistoned in and out of her own dripping sex. She was lost in her lust, and her final thoughts were of ecstasy as her mind fractured.

Victoria felt the chill. She knew that there was something powerful, something greater than she was, then anyone in the land. She could feel the whisper in her mind, her breasts, in the trees, the air, through the ground, and from the ocean. She still was strong enough to back away, to try to flee from the source. Yet, there was no origin. It came from the earth, the air, from her, from Martha… It was a voice of life. A command that echoed through her soul.

The Indian woman broke away from a desperate Martha, who almost toppled as she felt the woman’s hair run through her open fingers. She walked over to a small sapling in the middle of the clearing. It was so innocent, Victoria wouldn’t have noticed it if she had passed it a thousand times. Except, the longer she examined it, the less it made sense. It was like an overgrown flower, a thick stem holding an enormous bulb high off the ground. It was such an unusual plant, and yet, it somehow seemed to slip out of view when she didn’t watch carefully enough.

Even in her sexual stupor, Victoria felt a hint of curiosity when the Indian woman knelt next to the plant. Her hair seemed to pool around her as she ran her hands up from the base of the flower to the bulb. Then, she opened her mouth, and swallowed the bulb. She did not bite, but merely held the plant in her mouth. After a moment, she began to push her head down, further and further down the flower, before leaning back and pulling it out.

Victoria squinted. For a moment, it looked as if the plant’s bulb had expanded. The Indian woman repeated the motion, swallowing the plant, fellating it to the base. A sudden movement caught her eye. As the Indian woman leaned forward, her waist lifted and turned upwards, to which an eager Martha crawled towards. The young woman attacked the goddess’ rear, her tongue pushing past the boundaries of both her entrances. Victoria felt wet, and didn’t try to stop the hand that slipped between her thighs.

The Indian woman didn’t take the flower out of her mouth. At first, Victoria had thought it was by choice. But as she saw the woman’s cheeks bulge, she knew that the bulb had kayseri escort expanded too fast inside the woman’s mouth, preventing her from removing the plant. The woman shuddered under Martha’s administrations, bobbing on the thickening shaft of the flower. The bulb was not still, but expanding and contracting, pumping a sharp, potent fluid into her throat. The dark skinned woman moaned as the flower grew at a supernatural rate, the bulge of the flower bud pushing its way down her throat, audibly sliding between lush lips.

Then, the ground erupted. Vines, coils, and branches pushed through the dirt. Roots ran over all the women’s bodies, holding them fast. Victoria barely paid them any mind, she was too busy shaking from the ecstasy her digits were giving her. The Indian choked as she shoved the plant down, kissing the dirt as she swallowed the entirety of its bloated stem. The flower was growing still, new plant mass was shoved into the woman, filling her further and further.

The woman had fulfilled her purpose, and it was time to decide her fate. The forest shook, the jury murmured. The women moaned in their hidden sanctuary, and Victoria took an involuntary step towards Martha and the Beauty. Martha was so frantic she could barely move, her tongue jerking across the woman’s dark skin and privates and her hands unable to pleasure herself, they were so shaky.

The Indian woman froze as a look of contented pleasure spread across her features. The vines and roots yanked Martha back, holding her high in the air as her head lolled and her mouth drooled. Her legs kicked slightly as a vine, almost as big as Victoria’s fist, slammed into her gaping sex. Victoria could see its impressive girth straining against the skin of Martha’s belly. A few feet away, the Indian woman had also been lifted off her feet as the plant grew a rigid. From between her round cheeks, a bulb pushed its way out, straining the skin massively as it exited. With a shock, Victoria realized the plant had made its way through her entire body.

The bulb opened, the petals growing and reaching for their opposite pair from the base of the plant, near the woman’s gaping mouth. Even as her skin was covered in the pulpy flesh of the plant, she used her hands to move herself up and down the pole she was speared on, her breasts leaking milk and her unused slit spraying the plant with her girl-cum. The strange leaves of the plant met, melding and cocooning the woman inside as the bulb’s flower erupted, a glorious pink display that filled the air with the scent of the hidden woman’s hot and ravished body.

Victoria turned to watch Martha, who had been set down gently by the mysterious vines. She stood motionless, swaying slightly as she smiled. Her stomach still was distended, a bulbous, writhing mass that made her moan with every movement it made. Victoria stared in disbelief as Martha squatted and angled her head upwards, something pushing its way out from between her bottom. Victoria thought at first she was defecating, before seeing the strange objects writhe and plunge into the earth.


Martha slowly stood, the plant matter anchoring her to the ground as a thick stem pushed its way out of her bulging throat and into the sex-filled air. The roots turned a reddish color as Martha’s veins turned green, her blood evacuated from her body to make way for more plant mass. The roots grew thick, as round as a tree, as Martha’s stomach caved in, her insides deemed unnecessary and removed from her body. It expanded to perfect proportion, the skin flawless as it filled with yet more of the plant. The girl’s arms, which had been trying in vain to reach her crotch, were forced out to her sides as the vines began to expand and explore her body. Bones were broken and removed, muscles were cut apart and thrown away.

Martha shuddered as a vine ran up her spine and sank into her brain. Her heart was plant, her arms were plant, her legs was plant, and her mind was plant. The shape of her body began to fade, solidifying into a hard, green column. Her fingers and arms became her branches, reaching up and outwards into the air. Within minutes, the process was complete, and the girl was encased within the solid trunk.

Victoria gave a surprised shriek as a vine was shoved into her throat. So lost in the spectacle, she hadn’t noticed the green ropes approaching. She coughed as it slithered down her esophagus, coiling in her stomach and pushing through her intestines. It absorbed everything, her body being cleaned as she struggled and spazzed from the plant’s molestation. The main stem branched off, feelers piercing and probing her body. Fluid and mass was pumped into her, changing Victoria both physically and mentally.

What little fat she had left in her was removed, leaving her lean body ready for modification. Her chest bulged, a churning sound filling her ears as her breasts sunk and expanded. Her hips were left largely untouched, already being near-perfect in shape and volume. Her thin legs, rarely used for much exertion, were enhanced, stands of plant integrating themselves into her muscles, engineered to support them and enhance her physical capabilities. The snake-like appendages made minor corrections to her face, chemicals and biological agents working all the way down to the cellular level. Her body was perfected, designed to enthrall, pursue, and pleasure.

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