Alraune Mandragora

Marna, having finished with her chores, set out towards the woods as usual. Today was her eighteenth birthday. She decided that she had better make it an extra long walk in the woods today, to give her mother and father time to prepare the special birthday dinner she knew was coming. She did not look back, but Marna knew that her parent's eyes were on her, even as she walked the half mile between their home and the woods. They would be watching to make sure she was gone.

When she reached the woods she looked back. The house looked inviting in the cool grey autumn afternoon, but the woods beckoned her even more. She decided that she needed a new reading spot, since her old one was too near an ant pile for her comfort now. This was going to be her birthday present to herself, or from the woods, she couldn't decide which. The woods were almost her best friend, she thought as she walked through the large sugar maples and ash trees that thrived there. She always felt as if she were in a church, her church, when she was there.

Marna stood a bit shorter than most girls in the village, and quite thin. Her hair was so light yellow it looked nearly white at times. Her features were most fair; big eyes and dainty nose and chin, although she usually looked as if she were unhealthy or malnourished. Her parents couldn't seem to feed her enough to keep up with her feet. They were always off walking somewhere, when she wasn't tending to the family farm.

Marna had decided upon the area she would look for a new reading spot. It was a part of the woods that she hadn't really explored thoroughly, as the underbrush got a bit thick in some places. The leaves were beginning to fall, so Marna thought her chances of finding something were a bit better now. She searched for a log or a stump, or even a rock on which to perch. It had to be comfortable and clean, and it needed to be secluded so she wouldn't ever be bothered by passerby.

Down a steep slope, across a very old stream bed and through a thicket of smaller maples, Marna thought she spied a promising spot. Was it a log? A rock? She moved forward through the brush until she came upon the log. It was a big, old sugar maple that had fallen maybe a decade since. It lay with the top of the tree facing downhill, which was usual. Marna walked around it until she stood at the mass of leaves and ivy that had been the tree's roots. There seemed to be a small hollow of some sort, in the ground near the base of the tree...

Marna's head swam as her body fell. There was a rush of leaves, the air whisking past her head, her stomach seemed to leave her body and she finally landed with a soft thud. She could feel her body sliding down hill for a short distance after she hit ground. Leaves, small rocks and dirt showered all around her. She kept her eyes closed and covered her face with her hands, lying like this for some time until she was sure it was safe to move again.

It was dark! She had fallen into a hole. Was it the hole where the tree's roots had been? Was it a bear den? Marna's eyes were taking too long to adjust to the dark for her tastes. She began to scramble up, trying to climb towards the light. In doing so, she found that the ground was a thick carpet of leaves, and she slid right back down. Marna lay on her back and tried to pull herself together.

The hole she had fallen through was about three feet across by the look of it. She scanned the incline that had brought her here and decided that she must be at least ten feet underground and, craning her neck to one side, she could see that it went deeper off to her right. A mass of roots hung down all around, catching her hair and making it hard for her to move. The ground was actually quite soft. Years of leaves had probably blown into this hollow, making a thick cushion to break her fall.

Marna suddenly realized that this was quite the interesting find. The steep grade up to the opening did have a few thick roots which would allow her to climb out to freedom, but she didn't want to leave just yet. Pushing herself up, she stood inside the small cave, for it was big enough to be a cave, and looked around. A large part of the cave was made up by a hollow beneath the fallen tree's roots. The roots made up a large wall off to her left. Down and to her right, a small tunnel led downward, and into deeper darkness. She didn't dare go further down.

She moved back towards the roots of the tree and studied the ceiling. The trunk of the tree hung down into the cave and went out and up towards the middle. She had plenty of room to sit among the roots. She imagined that this was the type of thing forest gnomes would make their houses out of. She couldn't tell if anything lived here. There was no evidence that made her believe this was the case.

She sat there in the quiet hole, plucking sticks and leaves from her now tousled hair. The tunnel on the other side was curious, but she could not get herself to go near it. It was too dark, too uncertain. She knew she would have to go near it to get back up and out, but for now she was content to sit and think.

She began to think about last summer, when the man had come to the farm to sell them ice. The ice man was tall and dark haired, and very handsome. Marna even caught her mother sighing to herself after the man left, and she knew it must be the same sigh she had uttered. The man left them both feeling lovesick, but they would not speak of it to each other. Marna tried to keep her eye on the road for a few days afterward, watching to see if the man would come by that way again. He did not, but Marna had dreamed about him often ever since. She almost wished to fall asleep here, in the dark quiet of the cave, she thought, so she could dream of him again.

After some time in the darkness, Marna stood up again. She realized then that she had dropped her book somewhere when she'd fallen down into the hole. It must be in the mass of leaves somewhere. Marna got down on her hands and knees and began to search through the leaves below the hole, mindful of the dark tunnel a few steps away.

Suddenly her eyes were torn from the leaves and debris as her attention was drawn towards the tunnel. Had there been a sound? Something? She couldn't be sure. All she knew was that her heartbeat was so loud that it thumped in her ears and her breath caught in her throat as she stared into the blackness. Every inch of her flesh seemed to crawl with goose bumps.

Eventually she could breathe again, and she tried to go back to her search for the book she had dropped. Clearing away a small pile of loose, dry leaves, she discovered something very strange. It was a mushroom unlike any she had ever come across in the woods. It stood a few hands high, was covered in tiny bumps, like warts almost, and it was dark purple with a bulbous, cherry red cap that came to a peak. Lower to the ground were smaller mushrooms, all the same color but much smaller. She could not recall ever hearing of such a mushroom. She hadn't noticed it before, either, even though she was sure it grew right where she had fallen.

She wondered if this particular mushroom was poisonous, and decided that she would tell her father about it when she returned home. Better yet, she would take one with her to show him. Being careful not to touch it with her hands, Marna used the hem of her skirt to grasp one of the smaller toadstools with. She was in for a surprise when, even with all her strength, she could not pluck one of the small button mushrooms from the ground. She tried one, then another, so frustrated by these confounded mushrooms that she wrapped her bare hands around the taller mushroom's stem and pulled. It was like trying to pull a strong sapling from the ground; it would not budge.

Marna fell back, defeated. She lay back and pouted for a moment, but then laughed quietly at her predicament. She wagered to herself that the ice salesman was probably strong enough to free one of these cursed mushrooms from its roots. She laughed again, covering her mouth to stifle her own laughter. She did not want to wake whatever lie asleep at the end of that tunnel, if there was indeed such a thing to be feared.

Then she noticed yet another curious thing; her hands smelled sweetly of honeysuckle. Was it the mushroom? She sat up and crawled back towards the strange things. Bending down, she sniffed at the taller mushroom. It smelled sweeter than any flower she had ever known. It was a warm, comforting smell, like vanilla with a hint of baking bread. It smelled delicious.

Marna was quite happy to lie there on her stomach, breathing in the smell of the strangely beautiful mushrooms before her. A thought struck her, and she held her finger to her nose again. It smelled like cinnamon and new rubber erasers; hay and warm summer wind. She licked the tip of her finger. It tasted like nothing she had ever tasted before.

Moving herself even closer, Marna brushed the mushroom with her cheek, breathing in the intoxicating aromas. She inhaled deeply, letting the heady scent fill her lungs. Leaving caution behind her, Marna licked the mushroom once. It tasted like honey. She licked it again. It tasted like peach cobbler. It tasted like every wonderful dessert that her mother had ever made for her and then some.

Marna grasped the mushroom by the stem and bent the tip into her mouth. She sucked the cap in her mouth like a milking calf. It tasted better than all the hard candy she'd ever bought from the drug store, and it didn't seem to go away. She sucked and sucked, licked and licked, and it tasted better and better...

Marna awoke on her back, staring up at the hole in the ground. It was light outside, but she could see that the light of day was fading. Suddenly, she remembered the mushroom, and sat up. Where the mushroom had been there was only a group of the smaller ones. Where had it gone? When had she fallen asleep? Was she poisoned? She was suddenly worried that she'd harmed the mushroom somehow. She looked among the little purple and red buttons amidst the leaves on the ground and couldn't make out where the big one had been. She bent and licked one of the smaller ones, but it was bitter and made her gag instantly. Marna stood up, coughing, and made her way up the slope towards the opening. She got to the top and heaved herself out, laying on the ground above. There she found her book, lying in a clump of bluebells.

On her way home, she decided against telling her father about the mysterious mushrooms. She had also decided that her new reading spot had been found; the cave.

That evening, Marna's birthday dinner went by merrily. She ate more than usual. She was given letters from her cousins and her mother baked her her favorite: apple crumble. Her presents were a new bridle so she could ride her mother's horse more comfortably, a new hair brush and stack of new books from a publisher in New York. It was everything she wanted and more.

Marna lay in her attic bedroom that night, looking out the window at the stars that shown through gaps in the clouds. It was a dark night, so the stars seemed brighter than usual. Marna fell asleep thinking not of her ice salesman, but of the cave. It would have kept her awake if she hadn't been so utterly exhausted. She slept even deeper than she had when she was much younger.

Marna's parents let her sleep until nine. They both stood by her bed to wake her, smiling down at her as she stirred finally. "Well!" her father exclaimed, "It seems that old age comes sooner for some. Get up, sleepyhead!"Eventually, Marna found herself yawning out in the barn, doing her chores. Her parents had agreed to give her a little coffee that morning, as she seemed so unusually lethargic. It had helped a little, but still Marna yearned for her bed.

Once her chores were finished, Marna found herself energized instantly with the thought of a second visit to her new reading spot. She plucked up one of her new books, wrapped herself in a winter shawl and set out for the woods. Thinking better of it, she went back to the kitchen and opened the tool drawer. Inside, she found a candle and a small book of matches which she stuffed in her front pocket.

Once to the edge of the woods, Marna found herself running. Her curiosity pulled her as fast as her feet could carry her through the woods to her mysterious cave. She made it, and stood there, looking down into the hole that remained next to the huge fallen maple. She crawled backwards through the opening and eased herself down, letting herself slide when she was far enough down. She came to rest among the piles of leaves, and lay there for a moment. She had been wanting this all day, and now there she was.

She moved back towards the root wall. Finding a good place to sit, she produced the candle and matches from her pocket. Lighting the candle, she used its light to find a place where it could stand on its own amongst the roots. This done, she sat back and opened her new book.

"Ah..." Marna declared, satisfied with her new arrangement. It was a rather comfortable spot after all. The book seemed like a good one, too. This was Marna's idea of heaven.

After reading for a time, Marna caught herself being distracted with thoughts of her ice salesman. She could not help but picture one of the characters in the book as looking like this tall and handsome man that was the object of her secret affection. Since this character played a major role in the story, Marna was forced to think of him regularly and soon, her thoughts were of him completely. She put the book down on her lap and let her thoughts wander. She could almost imagine that he was there with her in the cave. What would he think of it? What would he think of her? Her mind played with these thoughts as she nodded off, falling fast asleep.

She dreamed, blessedly, of the ice salesman. He came into her cave and commanded that she let him kiss her. Even in her dreams it seemed that she was too shy, but he kissed her anyway. It was a wonderful dream, and it was over too soon, as many dreams are.

Marna awoke then and looked to the candle. An hour had passed since she'd fallen asleep. She looked around her cave, as if looking for her tall, handsome savior. Instead, sticking up from beneath the sea of leaves that covered much of the floor of the hollow, stood the mushroom.

Marna almost wondered if she slept still, and this was but a dream. No, it seemed real, she thought as she crawled towards the mushroom. It stood tall and proud in the patch of light that came from the hole above. What a strange thing that grew here, down in the dark of a cave. Moving forwards on her hands and knees, Marna cleared the patch of leaves away only to find that the mushroom had seemed to have grown twice as tall as it had been. It nestled as before, among the young mushrooms that grew around it. This time, though, it seemed to be mostly red. Did it bloom like this when the sunlight hit it? Marna couldn't be sure. She touched it. The surface was smooth, but it was hard like rubber. Kneeling before the strange specimen, it rose almost to her chest.

She knelt there, in the light with her strange companion. It was almost as if she still slept, and this was again some strange dream. She lowered her face to the bright red spire-like tip and nuzzled it gently. It smelled like warm leather and maybe a hint of chamomile. She sniffed it and breathed it in, letting the vapor fill her senses. She licked the tip lightly, savoring the ambrosia that filled her mind. It made her feel good, made her feel warm.

Marna felt her cheeks go red as she began to suck on the delectable phallus. It was like the time she snuck some of her father's wine into her room. She felt good, she felt free. She stood up and danced in lazy circles around the small cave, laughing. She needed to taste more of the beautiful mushroom, and felt suddenly that her clothing was hampering her ability to be near to it. She shed her dress and shawl, standing naked save but for her shoes and knee-length socks. Her body was slender and pale. Her flesh looked like ice next to the bold color of the mushroom. Her small breasts were beautifully round and graced with pretty pink nipples. Her butt was like two silver dewdrops atop her slender yet shapely legs.

She knelt again, with the mushroom standing up between her knees. She wrapped her arms around it and rubbed it against her skin. She kissed the crimson tip and believed that it must feel the same way to kiss her dream lover. She moved closer to it, trying to feel it with her whole body. She felt the little mushrooms that grew all around under her, nestled in amongst them. As she sucked on the huge growth that kept beckoning her hunger, she felt another, smaller mushroom beneath her. As she moved her body, she felt it pressing against her seat. She squirmed on top of it, grinding her little rear into the hard little buttons. As one of them pierced her womanhood, she cried out loudly. It had entered her suddenly and painfully. It was foolish to fear that anyone might hear her way out here in the woods, and underground. She sucked and sucked, and squirmed as her precious fluids fell to the earth...

Marna was far too entranced to react with anything but awe and further pleasure as the mushroom began slowly to writhe in her grasp. It rose from the ground, growing larger and larger. She felt the ground beneath her shifting as each individual stem awoke from an ageless slumber. The tiny mushrooms moved against her legs like silken snakes, and the large, dominant mushroom towered above her now, unfolding continuously into a large vibrant flower. The smaller mushrooms grew, too, turning to slender tendrils that wrapped around each of her legs warmly. She lay back on the ground, feeling her lover grasping her legs and pulling her in. She moaned and clenched her little ivory fists with ecstasy.

The long stem of the mushroom bent down over her naked body, as the smaller ones set about cosseting her slowly and gently. She felt them inching up her delicate thighs; pressing into her skin here and there, probing, squeezing her. She was completely lost in this pleasure. All she could do was beg that she didn't wake from this dream as the mushroom bent down towards her face. The tip wept with the sweet nectar that had hurtled Marna into her abyss of magnetism. All at once there were silken feelers at the vestibule of her womanhood. They woke something inside her, made her cry out as they moved against her.

The trunk of the great mushroom snaked against her stomach, her chest. As Marna began to awake from her deep, dark hypnosis, the stamen of the great blossom, dripping with her sweet acquiescence, plunged into her gaping mouth. She grasped the thick, snaking mass and fed hungrily at the sticky stamen that was in her throat. Again she tasted everything she wanted, sweet, savory, gentle spice; it was the purest ambrosia she would ever know. The nectar began to flow so that she was able to take it in great gulps, and soon her belly was full. Her eyes rolled back into her head as the long stamen made it's last sweet love to her and withdrew. Warm, pearly nectar flowed freely from her mouth as she gasped with ecstasy.

A lone palpus had found its way to her anus and was pushing its way into her guts. Then another slender tendril penetrated her inner sanctum. It wormed its way deep within her womb and stayed there, throbing and twitching against her insides. She felt the others holding her legs while she was invaded. As her body began to rise with the force of her captor's defilement, the great mushroom had now fully blossomed, and seemed to be poised above her face. She stared back into the crimson bloom, stupefied and spellbound.

The mushrooms began to free their spore, oozing from the tips with small amounts of the viscous seed. Marna started to orgasm, and the two tendrils that penetrated her lashed violently at her insides while they erupted. The huge blossom seemed to open even wider as her first ever orgasm wracked her soul. She threw her head back and knew only white light and pure pleasure as every inch of her body was stimulated to the breaking point.