Sacred Garden

As twilight descended, mountain coolness invaded the pond basin. The simmered mud and water retained their heat, while the air lost its warmth quickly. The temperature differences caused a creeping fog to form on the pond's surface. The mist added an eerie tenor to an already desolate atmosphere, and a Loon's wail on the far shore of the small lake drew goose bumps to Brenda's warm flesh.

She arose with a light wobble and walked to the waterless lagoon's edge. Brenda stood transfixed as she stared at the swirling smoke-like emanations curling from the dried pond's bed. They had started to form only moments ago, and now they obscured the ground in an ankle-deep cloud. She licked her liquor-thickened lips and tried to focus on the form of the Swamp Maple in the writhing mist. " I miss you! " she wept.

" I miss you, " the soft bass voice in her mind mimicked.

Suddenly, all was right for Brenda. All was coming into place. Slowly and carefully, she walked through the haze to her Old Man of the Woods. " I am yours, through and through." Brenda crooned.

Grasping the gauzy edge of her nightgown, Brenda raised it a few inches and leaned forward to nudge her mons against the side of the carved phallus. She slowly hitched her hips and rubbed along its lubricated length. The ringed flanges it possessed repeatedly caressed her humid vaginal lips.

"You have changed yourself for Me. " scolded the Maple.

" I wanted to please you, I wished to make you happy. Did I do so wrongly? " asked Brenda nervously.

" No, you did no wrong. You have pleased me. I am honored. " The Old Man soothed.

"I want you to fill me as no other has ever done. I want to know you as I have known no other, " whispered Brenda as she withdrew from her pleasurable stroking and slid around and between the greased member and the craggy trunk. The footing was precarious in her muddy soled heels and she needed a few moments to find acceptable footholds at the tree's base.

"What is this that I am holding in my bole?" inquired the forest giant.

"It is something to help me become excited and relaxed. If I am tense, this could be painful to me, " offered Brenda in alibi.

She pulled the vibrator from its nest and engaged the small switch at its base. The new batteries caused it to churn with life. Reseating the device's knurled grip into the tree, Brenda lifted the front of her negligée and draped it over the fluttering object She embraced the shivering tube and drew the nosecone to her clitoris. Instantly the waves of tingles pulsated through her labial flesh.

Brenda reached behind her and raised her nightgown again, to drape the garment over the slickened post. She then guided the lubricated bough's corpulent head to a docking with her resistant sphincter. Once the phallic branch was nestled in position, the salacious female returned her greasy hands to her lap to administer attentions there. The pressure of the sapling's tip at her anus was not all that pleasant and she tried to clamp it at bay with her lubricated buns. Brenda sought distraction as she intensified the stimulation that she was applying to her love button, and her engorged vaginal lips. Growing urges were being kindled from deep within Brenda's heated loins.

The titillated woman began to roll her hips in small mock thrusts. Something was happening to her vision that Brenda couldn't account for. It was wavering in field of focus yet high in contrast, so that the Maple's trunk seemed to be advancing and retracting from her face simultaneously.

She sought to steady herself by pressing her buxom chest into the craggy hide of the Swamp Maple. The husk of the tree's torso seemed to be alive and contorting under the touch of Brenda's straining bosom. The nose of the buzzing love rocket dipped lower and with a muffled whirring, it plunged upwards, into Brenda's juicing love nook.

The enthralled seductress had not executed the motion of the penetration. Brenda had felt the trunk buck upwards and lunge towards her heated crotch, as it drove the tubular mechanism home with a jimmying motion. Almost five inches of the throbbing contraption reached into her yearning body.

In her amazement, Brenda forgot about the force on her fanny and she pushed backwards. The oiled outgrowth plunged past her sphincter and her relaxed muscles instantly contracted again as they gripped the relief groove. The pain was unexpected and intense. Brenda's straining thighs bulged in an effort not to move. " He-he-help me, " she pleaded as she hugged her Old Man of the Woods.

The maple's trunk rippled under her and the vibrator withdrew until two inches remained in Brenda. "You could have made me smaller," admonished the Swamp Maple. "But I think I know a way you will like."

Brenda felt the tree's trunk stir under her again and she sought out the deep crevices of the entwined trunks to purchase a handhold, driving her hands between the interlaced sub-trunks. Her forearms eased into the wooden crannies of the fog-slickened bark and she drew her torso up close to the animated Maple trunk. Brenda's legs were burning in the effort to remain still, and the tree was shifting against her. The vibrator was being slowly pistoned in and out her surrendering carnal canal and Brenda could feel the flames of arousal being renewed.

A pulling pressure on her anal orifice signaled to the heated woman that the bough was sluggishly being withdrawn from her ass. Brenda felt the limb's head ease past the flange. Then, in unexpected deception, it slithered deeper into her colon. She felt another tubular ring spread her yielding rectum and nest within her. The discomfort had diminished as the roving appendage began a pumping motion. It neither withdrew, nor plunged deeper, but instead it delicately played on her anus's elasticity.

Brenda lay her head sideways on the moistened skin of the amorous Maple and croaked huskily, "Better, ooh ssoo much better." Her aching nipples felt chafed through the fabric of the silken negligée as the constantly moving stems kneaded her pliant tits.

She savored the buzzing tube as it pumped and effortlessly glided deeper into her lathered pussy. Every surge of its movement within her was punctuated with a slurping cadence. Brenda also sensed a building energy in her responses to the rhythmic penetrations. The knurled surface of the throbbing green implement slid past the spellbound female's labial walls. Rugged texture of the tree's bark nibbled at the sensitive surface of Brenda's hairless mons. Her heavy breathing rang through the swamp's still air in short and hoarse rasps.

Electrifying tremors rocked her frame and Brenda ground her buttocks into the thrusting sculpture nested in her behind. She was conscious that another flange had propelled its way past her portal and the feeling of being entered in such a way, became a delectable sensation.

Brenda was passionately pushing for more when an eruption of her nectar flooded out of her shafted vagina and ran in rich rivers, down her soft inner thighs. She writhed in craving and the limb burrowed into Brenda's quivering rump another two notches. A second lustful spasm rocked her as she whined into the night's darkness, "Yyyeesss, ooh sooo g-g-oood!"

The ground shifted under Brenda's shoes and she scrambled to keep her footing among the slippery roots. Her body weight settled so that her elbows were wedged in the chasms betwixt the trunk's sub-stems. The silk scarf had become snagged in the tree's tangle of rough stalks. Brenda hung suspended by her arms as a growing tightness around her throat caused her to gasp laboriously for air. She pumped her legs against the bumpy bark and struggled for a foothold as the boring members worked relentlessly in and out of her soliciting entrances.

A third bursting explosion of desire wobbled through Brenda and hot juices welled forth from her palpitating pussy to soak on the inside of her silken smock and slickly splash under her agitated motion. As her fluids gushed from her heated lower lips, the neckpiece tightened and Brenda's breath was cut short. She arched her neck backwards and bared her slender throat to the scarf's constriction. The rippling waves of her orgasmic outburst seemed to be endless to her, as she submitted to her body's convulsive spasms. A blissful dusk swept through Brenda's mind and her flesh went limp as cognizance faded.

CHAPTER FIVE – Push the envelope, watch it bend. - TOOL

Brenda awoke, nested in the cradling roots of the huge Maple. It was still evening and a large silvery Moon hung suspended over the pond. She gingerly arose, and instinctively sought to loosen the already slack scarf that was banded her neck. Turning to survey the tree, Brenda saw that the neon green vibrator dwelled in the nook, as she had placed it earlier. The carved wooden- appendage of the Maple was also in its original rigid position. She wondered if the recent events had really occurred, or were they the results of the tablets and brandy that she had consumed earlier.

Brenda smoothed the sable negligée along her raw upper legs and noted a sticky dampness against her skin. The pleasant tenderness in her relaxed clefts drew her attention also. Closer examination of the bark around the notch that silent libidinous tool roosted in, disclosed a blanched spattering along its surface. The shaped limb no longer was frosted with grease, but an odor of bile wafted to her nostrils as she leaned close to investigate it.

Brenda immediately felt incredibly thirsty. She decided she would refresh her parched mouth with a sweet sip of brandy. Turning toward where she knew the grassy hillock to be, Brenda cautiously negotiated the distance on aching legs, through the waist-deep billowing haze, and to shore's sanctuary.

She climbed on the leafy rise and knelt on the woolen blanket. A sip of the heating liquor and the rawness in her throat faded under its balm. Brenda took a much longer measure of the blackberry nectar to assuage her thirst, and then turned and sat to regard the Swamp Maple.

The Moon's white luster played along the top of the swirling mists as the swaying tendrils of the haze rose and fell in a silent dance. The Old Man of the Woods' imposing visage arose from the soupy fog to stretch to unknown heights. Brenda swilled another draught from the near empty bottle and tried to focus her thoughts in a communication to her lumbering lover. She exuded a feeling of thanks and questioned if he had received pleasure also. There was no reply.

Puzzled at the silence, and emboldened by the heady quaff, Brenda arose with a reel and started to walk to the enormous Maple. The dense ground-fog had made the leaves wet and slick on the lagoon's waterless bottom. She had to travel slowly because of the treacherous footing.

The chemicals that Brenda had ingested earlier were also at work on her in other ways. The physical effect that Brenda sensed most, was that she was getting seriously horny again.

Coolness of the night air caused Brenda's nipples to stiffly jut against the scant fabric of her nightgown. She came to a halt three feet away from the great tree's trunk. Licentiously she posed, with her hands on her hips and swayed as the Maple's form varied and shifted in her vision.

Thank you, she thought. You have made great pleasure for me, she continued in her attempted contact. You know me like no other ever will. (Brenda was referring to an asphyxiation fantasy that she had contemplated, but had never told another living soul about.)

" I am pleased to have pleased, " a deep voice said from within her head.

" How did you know me so well? " Brenda whispered aloud.

" There are many signs of many desires in you. The silken boa and the way you liked its feel on your throat. The feeling of danger excites you, as does being pursued with desire. You may need your safeties also, " the Maple's clear bass lilt continued.

As her Old Man of the Woods' voice flowed through Brenda's brain, a growing arousal was smoldering within her loins. " Tell me my lover, how may I know the pleasure of satisfying you?" she murmured dreamily. Deliberately she traced her tongue along her upper lip.

A pronouncement entered Brenda's mind and it said, " Come to me. Come join with me. You know where. Come to me. "

" This way? " asked Brenda teasingly, as she circled to the left of the tree.

" Come to me, " the tree's tone demanded.

Once on the far side of the tree, Brenda started searching for the location where she had first hoped to photograph the immense Maple from. She soon realized that because of the dense, swirling haze that was shrouding the earth, this could be difficult. Keeping the Swamp Maple as her landmark, Brenda traveled along an arc with a radius of fifteen yards and orbited the massive trunk in her search. As it stood wavering in her eyesight, the task grew to be increasingly difficult for her.

The precarious slickness of the bay's bedrock compelled the bewitched female to constantly look down, although she could not even see to her knees through the impenetrable vapor. The fog was rising also. Brenda peered towards where she believed the grassy hummock to be and found that it was either hidden, or she was lost. She tried to keep the Maple sited as a constant reference, an axis of her meandering. The Ecstasy was working on Brenda's body with an unwavering purpose, and she perceived that urgent cravings for carnal activities were steadily gaining in their insistence over her.

Brenda reached a point where she no longer had any patience and decided to return to the Swamp Maple's trunk and start her pilgrimage again. She squirmed with desire as she walked now. A provoking lubricated heat was amassing in her crotch. She wanted to lie down and rub herself against the lagoons slimy bottom as an un-neutered kitten in heat does on a plush carpet.

On Brenda's fourth step her shoe's heel broke through an inch and a half of solidly packed topsoil. She rocked her foot forward for leverage, but the sole of her elegant pump slid through the crumbling earthen shell. As the muck underneath slid over the top of her foot, Brenda looked up at the Maple and whimpered, "… no – this won't do. This is not the same place we were before. "

She decided to pull her foot out and continue her search. In the time it took her to reach those two simple conclusions, the slurping morass had gobbled her shapely leg to its mid-calf. The thick mush under the overlay of thicker dirt was at least twenty degrees warmer than the night air. It's weight soothingly clamped on her imprisoned flesh.

Brenda braced with her other leg in resistance and she felt the ground quaking like a pond of magma during volcanic tremors. As Brenda attempted to free her trapped leg, her other highheeled foot pierced the yielding crust. With her shoes on Brenda found herself sinking rapidly. Her toes were held pointed downwards in them, which caused them to knife into the lush bog. She held her legs stiff and spread her arms outward in an attempt to sustain her balance. Brenda dared not move a muscle for fear that she would be impelled rapidly into the depths of the swaying quagmire.

The rolling crusty surface was gradually dissolving for an area of several yards around her ensnared body, letting out a thicker haze, as the mire's sealed in heat met with the chill of the night. Thick slimy sludge that had been heated by the Sun for weeks was reaching to enwrap Brenda's straining mid-thighs with a relentless gurgling avarice. "Not like this, " she beseeched, "He'll never find me here in time! "

The tepid wet earth continued its consumption of her tortured flesh as it sucked her into its deadly abyss past the gauze rickrack on her silk negligee. Brenda felt the pasty warmth of the silt as it greedily swallowed her upper thighs and breathed its heated haze on her hairless mound. In spite of the peril, a shudder of arousal coursed through her.

She came to the conclusion that holding her legs rigid and straight was not slowing her interment, so she relaxed her aching thigh muscles. Brenda must have shifted her weight as she rested, because her feet instantly changed direction. They began to plane out in front of her sinking body like they were on runaway water-skis.

Brenda's torso tilted back almost forty degrees and she instinctively thrust her palms behind her to support her fall on the deteriorating sod. The gripping bog engulfed her hands and bracketed her wrists like snug slimy manacles . Brenda tensed her posture again while her mind raced for an avenue of escape. The braced prisoner dreaded the risk of slipping swifter into the foul hazard, should she try to pull them free.

Brenda's buttocks were mashed into the conceding morass and she could feel its warm embrace along her flanks. The trapped woman's quivering love tunnel was drawn away from the mire's surface when she had been lurched backwards. The heated humus pit was still devouring her body and Brenda felt her forearms penetrating the morass's spongy surface as she tried to hold herself up. She had reclined backwards to a sixty-degree pitch as the bubbling mud consumed her locked elbows. The clutching fen pushed along Brenda's tensed hocks and had hiked her nightgown to the middle of her left hip, revealing her glabrous genital triangle.

The sinking captive looked over her heaving bosom and observed the unrelenting marsh, as it made its mist shrouded advance over the tops of her trembling thighs and licked warmly at the smooth-faced gates of Brenda's vagina. The immobile prisoner felt her shoulder straps slide from her tensed shoulders to come to rest on her upper arms. In her struggles, Brenda had almost forgotten her earlier feelings of arousal. Yet the cravings lurked subliminally in her consciousness, and they again welled forward with requirement of being satisfied.

If she could have freed her arms from the mire's persistent hold, then Brenda would have had to touch herself at that gratifying moment. The inability to do so added to the mounting pleasure that was moving through her. The heated muck drew Brenda deeper into its confinement. She could feel its warm massage on her engorged clitoris as it concealed her ravished vulva. Brenda inadvertently flexed her buns under the steamy strokes of the marsh nudging her piqued pussy into the slurping slough. She knew that it caused her to sink faster, but she couldn't control herself.

Yet the sinking woman was aware that she needed to escape the seductive death trap and she also knew that she didn't have the power to do it on her own. Brenda looked upward through the fog's swirling shroud and focused on the silhouette of the towering Swamp Maple. The Old Man of the woods was her one hope. "Where are you? "She cried.

Looking down again at her submerging body, Brenda watched in detached fascination as the insatiable soil flowed over her thrusting hipbones. An old Grateful Dead dirge, Blues for Allah, was playing in her memory. The warmth of the gluttonous ooze clenched at her mid-biceps and Brenda could feel the thick soupy sludge as it bubbled against her lower back.

In a final effort to delay her demise, Brenda contacted her abdominal muscles to try and sit-up and out of her plunging descent. With a grunt she won an inch. Then two inches of her arms were pulled from the sucking grasp of the rich mud. Brenda's silky negligée was migrating down her straining chest and only her nipples, firmed by arousal, retained its position. The increased pressure her struggles placed on her hips forced them deeper into the moist swill, and the lukewarm slime rolled over her laboring tummy.

To her astonishment, as soon as Brenda relaxed her effort, the percolating sludge drew her arms back into its quaking possession nearly to the armpits. Warm humus pushed along the bottom of her billowing ribs and Brenda's shoulder blades dimpled into the shifting soup. Under the influence of the Ecstasy the trapped woman could feel the slurping ooze, as it became familiar with every submerged pore on her body. The fertile aroma of the steeping peat rose so strongly in the wavering mist that Brenda seemed to taste its rich bouquet. She looked skyward once more and focused on the form of the immense Swamp Maple. "You want me? Here I am! Come on and get me!" she announced thickly.