Journey to the North Ch. 01

Author's Note: This story/series is primarily focused on futanari and non-human content. Enjoy. (If you're into that kind of thing.)

Chapter 1: The Woods

My name is Brynn. My story begins in the village of Thistlefield. On the edge of the village is a forest. It is an old, dark forest; legend has it that within it gloomy depths lurk all manner of strange creatures and ancient spirits. The residents of Thistlefield avoid "the woods," as they call them, as much as possible. When one of them does venture into the woods — which they rarely do, since there is nothing on the other side except for the great escarpment of the Banded Mountains, which separates the settled southern lands from the wild north — she always leaves an offering, usually a coin or a piece of cloth, as a toll for her safe passage. Anyone who fails to leave an offering, it is said, risks the wrath of the spirits, who, having been denied their rightful tribute, will exact their own payment from the unlucky traveler.

It was an encounter with one of these spirits, somewhere deep in the woods, that would forever alter the course of my life. I was nineteen. At the time, I was serving as an apprentice to the local herbalist, a wizened old woman named Orla who lived in a cottage on the edge of the village. I had been Orla's apprentice for six years. One more year of study was all I needed to complete my apprenticeship and become an herbalist in my own right; but fate or chance, whichever of those two great sovereigns of mortal affairs you happen to believe in, had something else in store for me.

It was a fine day in late spring. Orla had sent me out to collect a basket of starflower root, which she needed to treat Gildard, the village farrier, for what she would only describe as "a personal complaint."

Starflower is a small, low growing plant that produces a single starburst-shaped flower. It grows most commonly along shady, wooded stream banks, where its showy white flower can be easily spotted among the surrounding moss. Its roots, which are known to have soothing properties, are used to make ointments for the treatment of burns and other inflammations of the skin.

Upon entering the woods, I placed a copper coin on a fallen log as an offering to the forest spirits. The day was warm and mild, and the air was filled with the sound of buzzing insects. I wandered along the banks of a small stream, scanning the ground for any sign of the little white flowers. But as the morning wore on, I grew increasingly puzzled. Normally, starflower grows abundantly throughout the spring season, but today they were proving strangely elusive. Even though I'd already been out for several hours, I had yet to see a single one.

I was so focused on my task that I didn't notice that I was wandering deeper and deeper into the woods. The underbrush grew thicker as the forest closed in around me. Soon I found myself in a part of the woods I'd never seen before. The trees here were old and gnarled; thick curtains of moss hung from their branches. Barely any light penetrated the dense canopy, which made the forest feel even dimmer and gloomier than usual.

I was just about to give up and go home, when suddenly I noticed a strange blue light coming from a clearing up ahead. Curious, I walked towards it.

As I stepped into the clearing, I found myself surrounded by a large ring of trees. Their branches soared above me like the vault of a cathedral, interweaving with one another to form a dark, impenetrable ceiling. But despite the absence of sunlight, the entire scene was illuminated by a blue glow that seemed to be coming from the hundreds of little blue flowers that covered the ground. I knelt down and examined one. It was small, about the size of my thumb, and shaped like a bell. A flickering blue light, like the flame of a candle, played across its surface.

I stared at it, fascinated. It was unlike any flower I'd seen before. I have to show this to Orla, I thought. If anyone could tell me more about this strange flower, it would be her.

The moment I broke its stem, however, the mysterious blue light faded from its petals. I was disappointed, but I put the flower in my basket anyway. Suddenly, I heard a voice call out from somewhere behind me.

"What do you think you're doing?" said the voice.

Startled, I spun around. Standing before me, as if she had sprung up from the ground itself, was the strangest woman I'd ever seen. She was completely naked, save for the dozens of luminous blue flowers braided into her long black hair. Her face was that of a beautiful young woman, but her arms and legs were covered with smooth gray bark like the skin of a beech tree. Instead of nipples, each of her breasts was tipped with a small, pink flower, and above her crotch grew a triangle of soft green moss.

"I said, what do you think you're doing?" repeated the woman.

"W-who are you?" I stammered.

"Who am I?" the woman asked incredulously. "Who am I? You come into my grove, steal my flower, and you have the audacity to ask me who I am?"

"I'm sorry, I had no idea..."

"Ignorance is no excuse," said the woman sharply. "You took what wasn't yours to take, and now you must pay in kind."

"But I have nothing to offer," I said, fear rising in my throat.

"Don't worry," said the woman, "I have no use for gold and silks. A flower for a flower, that sounds like a fair trade, doesn't it?"

"A flower for a flower?" I asked. "How am I supposed—"

Before I had even finished my question, a pair of roots shot up from the ground and wrapped themselves around my ankles. With a quick tug, they jerked me off my feet, and I toppled to the soft forest floor. I kicked and writhed, trying to disentangle myself from their grip, but to no avail. The roots held me fast.

"What are you doing?" I screamed.

"Claiming what is rightfully mine," she said. More roots wrapped around my wrists, pinning them to my sides.

The woman knelt and undid the cord that girdled my tunic. Then she grabbed the collar with both hands and, with two quick jerks, ripped the front of my tunic completely in half.

"Lovely," she murmured as she fondled one of my now-exposed breasts. Her hand felt strange — smooth and hard, like polished wood. I tried to twist away from her, but there was no escaping the roots' grip.

"Let me go!"

The woman chuckled. Her hand moved between my legs. Fingertips stroked the inside of my thigh. She leaned in close. "You should have known better than to trespass in a dryad's glade," she whispered, her breath hot on my ear.

A dryad! Spirits of the forest, they were said to wreak terrible vengeance on anyone foolish enough to disturb their groves. I shivered.

The roots tugged at my legs, prizing them apart with irresistible strength. There was nothing I could do. I was helpless, exposed, my legs spread wide as if offering myself to a lover. Hot shame rose in my cheeks.

"My, what a lovely flower," said the dryad as she ran her fingers through the thatch of golden hair above my pussy. "A fine offering indeed. Ah! You're blushing."

"Stop!" I screamed. "You can't do this!"

"Oh no? Tell me, who's going to stop me?" chuckled the dryad. "You're mine now, and there's nothing you can do about it. You might as well give in and enjoy yourself. Here, maybe this will help."

The dryad reached between her legs and began playing with herself. I could hear the soft, wet sounds of her fingers moving in and out of her pussy. She moaned softly. When she withdrew her hand, her fingers were dripping with a thick, honey-colored liquid. She held them up for me to see.

"Ready?" she asked. "Now it's your turn."

"Ready for wha—"

Without waiting for me to respond, she began smearing the liquid on my pussy, starting with my clit and then continuing down the cleft of my labia. The liquid made my skin feel warm and tingly. My clit began to throb. As she pushed her fingers inside me, the sensation spread throughout my entire body. I gasped in shock.

"How does it feel?" she asked.

I tried to speak, but no sound came out. My body was on fire. I could barely think. For a moment, my vision went white. When I returned to my senses, the heat had passed, leaving in its wake a feeling of almost unbearable arousal.

"What did you do to me?" I gasped.

"I feels good, doesn't it?" she said.

I turned my face away, unable to meet the dryad's gaze. It did feel good. My pussy was wet, not just with her juices, but my own as well. I was desperate for someone to fuck me: I wanted to be taken, overpowered, filled up, ravished. If she'd had a cock, I probably would have offered myself to her right then and there.

"It's no use playing coy," said the dryad, sliding a finger into my now-dripping slit. "I can see that you're more than ready."

At that moment, something about the dryad's crotch caught my eye. A long, pink stalk had sprung up from the top of her pussy. The tip of the stalk reached all the way to her belly button, and its entire length was covered with small, fleshy bumps. Its shape and color bore an uncanny resemblance to a flamingo lily's spadix, but its position on her body was unmistakably cock-like. The dryad stroked her new appendage.

"What do you think?" she asked.

As I stared at the dryad's crotch, I felt the last drop of self control drain from my body. I held my breath and waited, knowing that, whatever was about to happen, I was powerless to resist. Anything she told me to do, I would do, and do it willingly, as long as it meant that I got to feel that strange, botanical cock inside of me.

"You know what this is," she said. I nodded.

"You want it, don't you?"

"Yes..." I whispered.

"What was that?"

"Yes," I repeated, louder this time.

"Tell me what you want me to do with it."

"I... I want..."

"Come on, say it. Say, 'I want you to fuck my pussy.' "

"I want you... to fuck my pussy..."

"Tell me how bad you want it."

I couldn't hold back any longer. The waters had been steadily rising, and now the dam had finally broken. The words rushed out of my mouth in a torrent.

"Please! I need your cock inside of me right now! I don't care about anything else! Just hurry up and fuck me already!"

I stared at her defiantly, not wanting her to see how humiliated I was — or how much it was turning me on. The dryad smiled.

"Good girl," she said.

The dryad spread my pussy lips, exposing my glistening passage. As her cock sank effortlessly into my vagina, I felt a bead of wetness trickle down my as crack. I'm overflowing: the thought filled me with a mix of shame and pleasure.

"How does it feel?"

"It's so good," I whimpered.

The dryad began fucking me with long, powerful strokes. As she drove her cock deep inside of me, I could feel my body being pressed down into the soft, mossy ground. The little bumps on her shaft rubbed tantalizingly against my inner walls, making moan with every thrust. I was desperate to touch myself. My swollen clit was aching for release, but my hands were still firmly lashed to my sides, leaving me no choice but to suffer in exquisite agony as the pleasure in my groin kept building, and building, with no relief in sight, until it was so intense, so completely overwhelming, that I felt like I was going to lose my mind.

"Please," I gasped, "more... harder..."

"Is that what you want, you little slut?" said the dryad. "You love having my cock inside you, don't you?"

"Yes, I love it!"

"Do you want me to make you cum with my big hard cock?"

"Yes!" I shouted. "Fuck me with you big hard cock! I want to cum all over it! I want you to fuck me until I can't cum anymore!"

I couldn't believe what I was saying. The words came to my mouth unbidden, as if from some hidden corner of my soul that I never knew existed until now. It was like another Brynn had taken control of my body, a more shameless, uninhibited Brynn who was me but at the same time wasn't me. I'd never met this Brynn before, but to share a body with her, to feel the bottomless, unapologetic depths of her desire, was intoxicating.

"You love playing the whore, don't you?" said the dryad. "Does it make you wet, hearing yourself beg for my cock? Does it turn you on to know that you're nothing more than my plaything?"

"Yes," I gasped. "My body is yours. Use me, fuck me, do whatever you want to me. Just... oh god!"

The dryad's thrusts picked up speed, faster and faster, her pelvis slapping against my clit, sending little shocks of pleasure throughout my entire body. She took one of my nipples between her smooth, hard fingers and gave it a sharp twist. I yelped in surprise. The bright surge of pain, followed by its receding glow, were so exhilarating that they were almost their own form of pleasure. I felt something tighten in the pit of my stomach.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck!"

"Does that feel good? Do you like it when I fuck you hard, you little whore?

"Yes! Yes! Don't stop!"

I was breathing hard, my body straining against her roots as I ground my crotch against hers, each thrust bringing me closer, closer, the anticipation unbearable, sweat glistening on both our bodies, her red lips parted above me, panting too, fingers digging into my flesh, painful, yes, but electrifying too, yes, tell me I'm a slut, I need it, fuck me, yes, don't stop, yes, just like that, yes yes oh god yes!

I explode around her, my body goes taut, my mind blank. She tries to keep going, but it's too much for her and she slams her cock home one last time as I feel something warm and sticky fill my insides. Her body shudders, and then she's still for a minute. When she pulls her cock out of me, I can see that it's covered with a mixture of golden nectar and my own white cream. I fall back against the mossy ground, utterly spent.

—

The dryad stood over me as I lay on the forest floor. She chuckled softly. Her roots still held me, but my body was so slack with exhaustion that it hardly mattered.

"I guess we're even now," said the dryad, "which means I have to let you go, doesn't it? But before you leave, I want to give you something to remember me by. A token of my appreciation, for being such an enthusiastic playmate."

She took two fingers and slid them into my still-wet pussy. Her lips moved in a silent incantation. Suddenly, my crotch became hot again, and my clit began to swell, and then it kept swelling, bigger and bigger, and changing, too, until I looked down and saw, to my horror, that it had been transformed into a fully erect cock.

"Since you enjoyed mine so much, I thought you might like having a cock of your own," she said. Then, more seriously, "Let it be a reminder that the wild places are not to be trifled with. Next time, you might not get off so lightly."

I stared at my new cock, mouth agape, unable to comprehend what I was seeing. Then I heard someone a scream, and my vision went completely black.

"Did you know," the dryad's voice came drifting through the darkness, as if she were speaking to me across a great distance, "that it's impossible to find a dryad's grove by accident? You have to be looking for it, even if you don't know that's what you're looking for. I wonder, what brought you here?"

As I slipped into unconsciousness, her final words echoed in my head: "Remember, a dryad's grove is a secret thing. It cannot be found by accident. You were looking for this."

—

When I awoke it was nightime. The dryad and her grove were nowhere to be seen. I was lying on my back, pinpricks of stars visible through a screen of dark branches. As the memory of everything that had happened to me came rushing back, I gasped and sat upright. Maybe it had been nothing more than a crazy dream, I tried to reassure myself. But a quick glance at my crotch confirmed that the day's events had been all too real: nestled between my thighs was a cock. It was limp now, the head hidden in a little hood of skin, but its identity was unmistakable, as was the fact that it was attached to my body.

I examined myself in an attempt to understand my new anatomy. My clit was gone, that much I already knew. I probed lower, beneath my new penis, and found, to my relief, that my vagina was still in its rightful place. So I was still a woman, more or less.

I got up slowly, not even bothering to put on the tattered remnants of my tunic, and took stock of my situation. Somewhere in the darkness I could hear the gentle burbling of a stream. With any luck, it was the same stream I had followed on my way to the grove, otherwise I would be hopelessly lost trying to make my way home in the dark.

A wave of hot shame washed over me. What had that creature done to me, and how could I have gone along with it so willingly? It must have been her poison nectar that had stolen my wits and driven me mad with lust — but was it only that? Even now, thinking about it gave me a twinge of pleasure. Maybe I wasn't quite the girl I'd always thought I was. I had said and done things today that I hadn't known I was capable of; given the right (or perhaps the wrong) circumstances, I might be capable of them again.

But there would be time to ponder that later. For now, all that mattered was getting back to the village. I steeled myself, uncertain of what further trials the woods might hold, and set off into the darkness.