Sacred Garden

"I'm back." She whispered with the rasp of excitement tempering her tone. "I told you I would return, and now I'm gonna help you to know me better. To unite with me as only we can do. But, first I'm gonna have to do something to make this happen for us." Brenda solemnly promised. "It might hurt, I hope not."

Brenda returned to her pack and took out the bucksaw. She bellied up against the sapling and made a light cut in its bark about two inches lower than her navel. Dropping the blade one half of an inch, Brenda sawed upwards until she had cut half way through the sapling and to her mark. She repeated the same procedure from the other side and separated the young trunk at the finish. The trunk was almost three inches thick at the point of cut and the ten feet of treetop that came loose was an awkward and heavy package. She dragged the cumbersome foliage back to the grass-covered rise on shore and concealed it deep in the Laurel.

This had been hard and heated work. Brenda stopped to take a few sips from her second canteen, then she traipsed back to the Old Man of the Woods. As she approached him, the sweat dampened lady stopped a few yards away to admire her handiwork. The magnificent brute looked more than ever, like the Alpha-tree in this forest. Climbing in its twisted majesty, it now had an obviously phallic member protruding from the bowels of its roots. The rest of the job was time consuming and gentle labor. She fished a three-inch long, Case pocketknife from a pocket in her cargo shorts and carefully opened its razor sharp blade.

Two hours later, with sawdust clinging to her moist arms and a few wooden chips in her hair, Brenda backed away from her project to access its grade. A smile slowly spread across her full mouth, and leaning back on one foot, she slowly licked her upper lip.

The sculpting female had shaped the appendage so that it had a large and circumcised shaped head at the tip. Brenda's efforts at sculpture had reduced the penis's tip to a width of an inch and a quarter. It still bent in to the trunk so that only three inches distance lie between it and the Maple's main torso. Below the head, the sapling had been systematically grooved so that it flanged out every inch. The diameter if the limb increased to four inches at the location of its carved base, which was ten inches down from the nip.

"Ladies prefer ribs." she had mused, as she carved the notches and rings into its girth. Brenda had sanded the shaped stump until it had a silky smoothness, completely absent of even the smallest burr. At the base of her arrangement she had feathered its emergence from the tree's craggy bark with sandpaper.

Brenda strode over to her pack and returned all her tools to its keeping. She then brought the pack back to where she stood moments earlier in her moments of admiration. Brenda removed her camera from her pack and fell to one knee on the pond's bed. The tree was so immense and the distended limb appeared so small in her viewfinder, Brenda arose and advanced to a range of two yards before the subject's size looked appealing. She had snapped off six or seven shots at various angles, but wanted one with the unbroken skyline against her creation. That meant Brenda had to lie on her stomach at the parched pool's bottom, in order to clear the surrounding area's tree tops.

She wriggled out of her swelter-soaked T-shirt and placed it on top of the nearby pack. Returning to the base of the endowed Maple, Brenda lie down supine in the dusty leaves that carpeted the dry pond. She enjoyed the heat that the baking sun had deposited into the parched earth throughout the afternoon. Brenda felt its warmth radiating into the tops of her feet and up the length of her exposed legs. She enjoyed its ardor as it bathed her exposed tummy and nestled the comely globes on her chest.

Brenda had to crawl on her belly to get a foot closer to the roots. She wanted a clear shot of her labors cropped in a manner that would be revealing and yet obscure. This was to be a picture that would furnish wallpaper for her PC's desktop to excite her, but remain a secret from other viewers.

Brenda was reminded by the chafing caress of the arid compost that she had elected to wear no underpants that day. A heavy aroma of dried compost arose from the disturbed ground and flooded Brenda's dilated nostrils. It carried memories of the previous weekend's exploit. The decision to go pantyless had been made in case she craved to surrender herself to the quagmire's custody again. She wanted to keep her options open, if the labor she had planned did not bear the fruit that she desired.

As she snapped off several more frames, Brenda could feel the growing, heated moistness of arousal in her crotch and knew that the product of her efforts was well worth the afternoon spent.

The stimulated woman arose and returned her camera to the safety of the backpack. Then she went again to the tree and took its hewn shaft in both her hands, and brushed her lips to the parabolic tip. Kissing it lightly, Brenda ran her tongue over it, moistening it with her saliva. The freshly cut and polished wood had a slightly sweet fresh-cut flavor. She retracted her head and saw that where she had licked it, the wood had developed a glossy and dark patina.

Brenda lowered her head back to the reaching member and swallowed the head in its entirety, stopping when her lips crested on the tubular ridge of the next flange. She explored its slopes and valleys as her eager tongue sowed its moistness into the timber. Circling her quarry, Brenda sidled her bared ribs against the Maple's main body, and positioned her head so that it filled the narrow gap between the sapling and the tree.

In her excitement, Brenda's salivary excretion welled heavily and she had begun to bob her head in line with the shaft. She had engulfed the modified limb fully to the second ridge when the rounded head had hit the rear roof of her mouth and caused a reflexive gag. She retracted her head a fraction of an inch and generous quantities of drool poured from her steamy mouth causing Brenda's nodding head to generate a rhythmic slurping gurgle.

She withdrew a little more and let her hands drop to the catch-hook on her cargo shorts. A quick unfastening, and a parting of a zipper caused her shorts to slither downward over her hips and to her ankles as she released them. Brenda's hands sought her cream lathered slit and a well-juiced finger went on to roll itself against her swollen clitoris. Brenda began to shudder and twitch as her body gave itself up to the mounting thrill that her mind and spirit were immersed in.

The quivering woman placed her back to the Old Man of the Woods as she gracefully snaked her leg into the narrow gap formed by sapling and trunk. Brenda raised her head off of the spittle soaked limb with an audible smack and eased herself fully between the appendage and its trunk. Pressing her excited pussy against the spittle sopped wood, she rocked her hips and moaned as the carved projections glided along engorged labial lips. Brenda could feel the knobby head rubbing through her upper pubic nest and she grasped the chiseled shaft with both hands to increase the force it exerted on her joyously tortured flesh.

A verdict spun through her mind. The mighty Maple was the guardian of this valley, and she viewed herself as a roaming princess of the forest. This was to be, she thought, the purposeful union of two woodland spirits.

Brenda's breathing was labored and drawn in groaning pants as she raised up upon her toes and thrust her pelvis forward. The bulbous gnarl of her wooden beau buried itself within Brenda's steamy recess. Sucking in a great draught of late afternoon air, Brenda cried out to the forest. "Take me! Have me now!" she wailed. Slowly and deliberately Brenda eased her elevated hips down. The impaled vixen felt the Maple enter her up to its first knuckle. She gradually lowered her self down off tiptoes and the limb traveled into Brenda's twitching cunt until her insides had surrounded its second ridge.

It filled her so good she judged. It was much larger than her husband had been and the ribs were so pronounced in their contact. Brenda tentatively rocked her hips from side to side, and she could feel the flanges moving internally over her flesh. Knowing hands once again ventured to her throbbing love button, as Brenda rhythmically began to grind her hips. The corrugated shaft stroked the inner walls of Brenda's carnal cavern. Absence of having a command over her every movement, notified Brenda of an impending orgasm.

The euphoric woman lifted her hands above her head and placed them, as if manacled, in contact with the Old Man's scabrous hide. Continuing the increasingly quicker gyrations of her pelvis, Brenda felt a maturing surge, coming to a boil, from deep within her loins.

"Take me!" she whimpered through quavering lips. "P-p-p-please, come into me now!"

As she mouthed the prayer, Brenda shifted the tension that she had used to keep her knees locked, and shifted her control to her thighs and flanks. This allowed the frenzied female increased vertical motion and the expanding thickness of the wooden penis slid into her seeping love canal another two notches. Her seething juices flooded out of her in a torrent as Brenda's hips swayed and pistoned in a convulsive jitterbug and her blissful moans sang out across the desolate pond basin. In a sudden convulsive motion Brenda's back arched away from the tree. Then, returned with a slap against the unyielding trunk.

With leg muscles turned to butter, Brenda felt the backs of her wrists scrape along the bark as she started to collapse. As she descended the Maple's shaft bored into Brenda's love-soaked cervix with a series of prodding nudges as the rings and grooves played against her twitching flesh. The wooden extremity had gained entry into her body until it was almost at the bark-covered frontier. Its almost four-inch thickness had obligingly stretched Brenda's submitting orifice to oblige its entry.

With a sharp gasp, the alarmed woman pushed her aching thigh muscles in an upward springing movement. This caused the ridged limb to retract past her deliciously tormented vaginal lips and it felt much like a string of large Ben-Wah balls might have. A breathless Brenda mouthed the words, "so good, " but she knew she had to go the extra distance to free herself, and arose to her tiptoes. Brenda clenched her buttocks and hoisted her relaxed and dripping pussy back away from the knobby tip of the Maple. As the protuberance left her body, slick wetness ran in rivulets down Brenda's quivering inner- haunches. Leaning back against the main trunk, she felt dizziness wash over her. Her leg muscles twitched in agony from the combination of her lustful escapade and the morning's narrow escape.

The world became momentarily amplified as all the sensory images that surged into her mind became exaggerated. Then as if by overload, the dried swamp wavered and pitched in her vision, while a rushing roar increased its volume in Brenda's head. Aching leg muscles no longer under her command went numb and her head lolled skyward as the dumbfounded female collapsed slowly to the ground. Unconsciousness washed over Brenda as she lie nestled against the dear Old Man of the Woods.

Although she had originally fainted, her condition metamorphosed to a deep sleep. Brenda was completely spent from the exertions of that day. As she lied asleep, a lucid dream came upon her.

Brenda arose in her dream and stood looking at the tremendous trunk. Then, her vision was drawn to the pond's dried floor. A ridge of disturbed earth emerged from the roots of the Maple and extended along the swamp's bottom. It was not even two inches high, and it looked like a large mole's burrow. Brenda's eyes were riveted to the wrinkle of earth, and it led directly to the gaping pocket that had been formed by her trapped body last weekend. It was where she had tauntingly challenged the Old Man of the Woods.

In a dream-walk, Brenda followed the small seam to its terminus at the edge of the quagmire. She gazed down into the hole, and saw the silty slush stir as if something was swimming under the ebony surface. "Could a small animal have fallen into the earthen depression? " she wondered aloud.

Something small surfaced with a ripple and then returned to the inky depths. Brenda knelt at the edge of the hole and peered into it. The life form emerged again, this time as a slow rolling serpentine creature that looked oddly familiar. Its texture was gnarly and wooden, yet it appeared as pliable as an eel. Astonishment gripped Brenda. She in turn clenched the dried basin of the pond, her fingers burrowing into the dusty surface. Brenda visually traced the route once more, from the muddy hole to the tree.

"Oh my dear God!" she gasped in an echo filled voice found only in dreams, "He did come for me!" To punctuate her revelation the tuberous appendage reared out of the pool of midnight broth like a charmed snake, and slithered across the back of her left hand. It rose up her forearm and gently encircled it. Brenda saw that it was almost two inches thick and had a small knobby protuberance at its tip. Brenda was immobilized by panic. A shiver of surprise raced down her spine. The animated root rubbed gently as it retreated along its path until its tip came to rest on the back of her knuckles. She had the sensation that she was being bathed in a benevolent creature's aura. Brenda felt accepted and desired. She closed her eyes and tried to project her emotions and thoughts back to the compassionate being. She experimentally cast her feelings about how she admired the forest giant, her general esteem for the woodlands and the loneliness that she lived her life with.

A voice came into her head. " Do you still want me? " it inquired softly in a deep tone.

Brenda inhaled deeply and slid her tongue along her upper lip. " You wouldn't hurt me, would you? " she whispered.

" I could never harm you. " replied the Old Man of the Woods, speaking in her mind. " Come. Come join with me. " The root glided off Brenda's hand and returned to muddy porridge. She sensed that the tree's spirit was gentle in nature, but the allured woman still determined to proceed with caution. She had been misled before.

Brenda stared at the coal colored mush for a moment and then swung herself around to a sitting position at the mucky depression's brink. She held her shapely legs together and elevated them over the boggy pit. Slowly and deliberately, Brenda lowered them until the soles of her feet barely broke the tension of the surface. The mud was warm to the touch again and Brenda let her feet slip into its possession. The enraptured woman allowed the gripping mire to encompass her firm calves and relished its warm squeeze on her flesh. It lapped against the back of her knees as she came to a resting seat with her lower legs soothingly immersed.

Something stirred within the mucky soup. Brenda could feel it nuzzling and seeking along the sole of her right foot. The probing touch slid to the top of her foot and continued to encircle her calf. With abated breath, Brenda began to slide her weight forward. The black slime rolled over her knees and with a push from her arms Brenda left her perch, the titillated nymph committed herself to the control of the marsh and the lustful explorations of the Maple.

The writhing root traveled toward the surface and along her trembling leg. It stopped and pressed on Brenda's inner thigh two inches above her knee. She couldn't see it because by then the inquiring lady had descended into the quaking swamp until it had risen to her upper legs. Looking downwards at the union of her inner thighs, Brenda was surprised to see that her vagina was without hair.

Thrusting her left hand into the shimmering distillation, Brenda stroked the tree's appendage and tried to coax it along in its upward quest. It advanced another two inches closer to the junction of her legs. The ardent woman was standing fully erect again and she slipped her right hand to her crotch. Brenda grazed her aroused clitoris with her palm and then rolled it softly in the grip of her thumb and index finger. The soft sleekness of her skin seemed unfamiliar under her fingertips, and her smooth mons felt sensitive to her hand's attentions as never before.

The hose-like probe sloshed out from the muck and nuzzled along her vagina's excited and wavering lips. " Like this? " the voice sounded in her brain.

" Yes! " she moaned, " Oh, s-o-o-o-h good! " I want you to make me feel so full, she thought. Brenda could also feel a strange commerce, taking place in her mind. It was a gentle probing for memories, preferences and feelings. The explorations did not leave her feeling intruded upon. A feeling of frank curiosity and honest caring remained as the fruit of the mental safari.

Distractive pressure on along the back of Brenda's left thigh startled her, and the impassioned lady began to the realize that the root had multiple ends. The whipped warmth of the churned mire was cupping Brenda's flexing buttocks as a second pipe-like root slithered upward and between her cheeks. It came to rest in the small of her back. Brenda was alarmed by its apparent intentions and she reached back with her left hand in an attempt to dissuade it from its course. She had never experienced anal penetration and in spite of what she had read in the lady psychologist's fantasy book, she was not yet mentally prepared for the event.

A flash of searing light obliterated the world, and Brenda groggily awoke.

" Where am I? " she asked in a dry mumble as she pressed her palms against her eyes.

The drowsy female wondered aloud, " What happened? " The details were all so confused. She wondered how long she had slept. A glance at the Sun in the sky convinced Brenda that it was between six thirty and seven o'clock. That meant that at most, an hour and a half of daylight would remain until the Park's curfew started.

Brenda stiffly arose. There were pangs of aching muscles in her back, her legs and her shoulders. She would be sore tomorrow, she thought.

Brenda examined the carved organ again, marveling at her craftsmanship. The wood was darkened along its length until it came to one ridge before the bark. Standing next to the wooden handiwork, she bent her knees until the lowest edge of the moisture-darkened wood was even with her vaginal entrance. " Wow. " she said in awe, " was all this in me? "

Brenda threw her arms wide, and embraced the gargantuan trunk in a loving hug. As she ardently held on to the wooden giant, a glance downward disclosed a ridge of disturbed soil. With disbelief Brenda saw that it spanned away from her Old Man of the Woods and led uninterrupted to the shifting soil of the insatiate morass. A voice resounded in Brenda's mind. " Come. Come join with me. "

I can't, thought Brenda. Images of the two men who had stalked her that morning flashed through her memory.

Warmth emanated from the rough bark as the Maple responded, " You are safe. Everything has been attended to. You have nothing to fear. " " Stay with me. Join with me. You know where, " the voice chanted soothingly. " Know me tonight, " it lulled.

" I can't, " Brenda lamented. " My car is in the lot below. The Rangers will find it and people will come. " She sobbed, " They will find us and they will not understand. "

"I will be back, I promise you." Brenda vowed as a salty tear rolled over her trembling lip.

The voice grew sadly silent in her head and Brenda was fighting back tears as she snaked into her T-shirt and drew up her cargo shorts. She returned to the leafy green mound at the pond's edge with pack in tow, and removed the remaining canteen. Two long pulls on it and Brenda converted to shorter sips and speculation on the day's events. The sweetness of the Gatorade reminded her of the wood's sweet flavor.