Benn {DoomGender} Ends
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May Bonus Story
🕑 Added 2020-06-12 18:49:29 +0000 UTCHey y'all!
Had a bit of a fight with this one to get it in the shape I wanted it, but I like the way it turned out! It's a lil bit longer than normal too, so enjoy!
~Benn
Winning prompt: How on earth are you going to convince the very shy dryad living nearby that no, she doesn't need to hide away during spring and yes, you really do want to bury yourself in the aphrodisiac flowers blooming in her hair?
Suggested by: TreeGal (thank you!!)
~2910 words
CW:
- Dryad/Human
- Lotta sexual content
- Magical aphrodisiac intoxication
- "Feral-Horny"
- Thorns, superficial cuts, some blood
- Dirty, sweaty, messy rolling around in a forest
- Point of view character tops
Light filters warm through the trees at noon, shimmering down on you as you walk, breathing in the fresh air like the sight and smell of paradise.
You’re on a walk, alone, through the woods that start down the road from your house. You’re following a faded path that was once well trodden, picking through fallen branches and mossy stones. The leaves have come in, green and bright and vibrant, darkening the whole of the forest and muffling the sound of birds calling and small animals dashing to an intimate rustle in the distance. You’re happy, calm, at peace, using a walking cane to help you get over the rougher areas as you wander deeper in.
You know this area well. You lived in here when you were young, moved away to the city, then back again. There’s a certain weight and quiet to rural life that you just couldn’t leave behind. You just finished the move a week ago. Staying in temporary housing until you get a more permanent situation.
There was building planned here a while back. Some big housing development, which would spin off into a shopping center, and on and on until the forest was eaten and the quiet was loud. But things changed and construction stopped before it could begin, and piles upon piles of materials sit rotting on on the edge of the forest, in a field that they tore up for a parking lot. You visited once, when the big sign advertising the coming storm was still new, still standing, not covered over in vines and moist dirt. You walked through the forest, and even though they hadn’t cut a single tree, you could feel in the air that it knew it was dying. The leaves weren’t as green, the stream has slowed to a crawl, the birdsong sounded so lonely.
It was protest which stopped it. The locals came together to fight the handover of such a massive area of public land to private interests. Occupied the area in question for over a month.The county ended up reallocating the funds they were prepared to hand over to the developers into the construction of low cost housing nearer to town. It was a huge upset. Made national news. You wish you were there.
The forest is so healthy now. Stronger than you’ve ever seen it. You swear that some of these trees have gone from saplings to mighty old growths just since that time you visited.
You hop the stepping stones to cross the stream, now a merry flow of sparkling water. You put those stones there yourself when you were a kid. There’s hiking trails and tourist areas, but those are all on the northern side. This little corner doesn’t see many visitors.
So, you’re surprised to see another person, sitting in the wind tousled grass of a small clearing, looking up at the sky. You can hardly make them out in the light, your eyes used to the dim of the deeper foliage.
“Hey! Sorry to wander through, but I live around here and I’m on a walk-”
As soon as you start talking the person yelps and falls over, scrambling and looking around.
“W-who!!”
“O-oh no, sorry didn’t mean to scare you! I was actually trying to like, avoid scaring you by calling out,” you say sheepishly, stepping into the light of the clearing.
Oh.
She’s green.
You’re shocked that you managed to get this close without noticing the flowers blooming in her hair, the small, budding antlers. Close enough now to see the little thorns growing on her bare legs. She’s wearing a long oversized sweatshirt as if it’s a dress. It’s dark green with a cartoon tomato on it, accompanied by the phrase “I’m A Tomato Gal” in white text.
“Are you a dryad?”
She smiles awkwardly and nods. Her eyes are a pretty pale purple.
“I’ve never met a dryad! I didn’t know this forest had one? Did you just move in? Is that why everything seems so much healthier?”
You’re babbling questions rapidly at her, none of which she manages to answer. She looks slightly stunned, not scared, just. Nervous, probably.
“I’m sorry, I’m being rude let me help you up-”
“NO! No closer!!”
She yells it as soon as you take a step. Her face flushes a darker green as she waves her hands at you. Then she covers her face like she’s embarrassed.
“I’m scaring you. Or trespassing. Or both, probably. I’m so sorry.”
You’re frozen in place, not sure what to do next, sure you’ve up.”
“No, it’s not you. It’s.. Um. The f-flowers.”
You look around at your feet for any flowers you might be about to step on.
“What?”
She turns an even darker green.
“It’s.. I mean. My flowers. I’m blooming and.. OhgodsIcan’tdothis Ihavetogo itsforyoursakeIpromisebye!!!”
And she bolts.
And you’re not sure why, but you chase after her. Something about what she said. You’re so curious what she meant.
“Wait! I’m fine, I’m not scared of you! What do you mean?”
You call after her, only to hear unintelligible squealing. You’re surprised you’re able to keep up honestly.
“Can we talk? If you want me to leave you alone please say that though! I’m not trying to be weird! Oh gods I’m being weird aren’t I.”
You’re getting close, when she heads straight towards towards a thick knot of trees all roped together, solid as a wall.
“Oh no you’re gonna hit-”
You skid to a stop as she hits the barrier and disappears. You hear her scampering away, as if the trees weren’t even there.
Catching your breath, you walk over and lay a hand on the trunk of one of the trees. Completely solid. You had no idea dryads could actually do that. It’s hard to separate fact from fiction with these kinds of beings sometimes.
You notice some blue cloth stuck to the tree at about waist height. You reach down and touch it. It’s a little damp on one spot, but you pick it up and immediately recognize it.
Your face turns bright red.
“P-panties?”
A yelp comes out of the trees about ten feet away on your left. You turn that way, panicking, caught holding the dryad’s lacy undies she somehow left behind, like some kind of anime pervert.
But you don’t see anyone. At least until the dryad’s face pokes out of a different tree nearby, like a ghost phasing through a wall. She looks mortified.
“S-sorry, c-can I have those back..”
She doesn’t even look in your general direction.
“Yeah, of course, I’m so sorry.”
You take two steps closer before she squeals and waves her arms.
“No! Bad! Flowers!”
You stop and look around. There’s a big rock that doesn’t seem too dirty, as far as things in forests go. You set the underwear down.
“Is that okay?”
She nods, seeming a little calmer. Still blushing, and breathing a little heavy. Not very athletic for a dryad maybe?
“Thank you. But you have to back away.”
You nod and do as she says.
“What happened?”
She hesitates as she’s stepping out of the tree.
“They, um. Are made of synthetic fibers. So I can’t bring them with me.”
She’s walking carefully towards you, using one hand to hold the hem of the sweatshirt down, then stops, waves a little so you back up some more.
“Oh wow, I guess that makes sense. So what’s up with the flowers you’re so worried about?”
She almost falls trying to figure out how to modestly pick up the panties. You really should be looking away, but you’ve gotten distracted by a sweet, perfume-y scent on the wind. Like moss and overripe peaches.
“What’s that smell?”
The dryad breathes a heavy breath and looks directly at you with some new urgency. Your head feels suddenly heavy. Then she snaps to and scrambles backwards. As soon as she’s further away, your head clears, like magic.
“Oh that was close, I’m so sorry!”
Still a little dazed, you ask “What was that?”
She takes a deep breath, and seems to be trying very hard not to look at you.
“I’m in bloom, okay?”
She gestures to the flowers merrily dotting her hair.
“The scent is intoxicating to humans, and, I kinda, also have a hard time, like. Stopping myself.”
“Stopping yourself from what?”
Looking up at you, her eye’s are practically pleading.
“You know exactly what I meeeeean stop teasing meee.”
She’s still breathing heavy, and wipes her lips. Was she drooling?
“Oooooooh!”
The dryad rolls her eyes.
“Okay, now you get how dangerous it is for you to be around me! Now shoo!”
“Wait I still don’t get how it’s dangerous.”
“I- what?? I’m going to jump you and you’re going to go into a gods-damned lust fueled frenzy! It’s the whole reason I hide all spring, so I don’t accidentally put humans in a bad situation!”
You nod, blushing almost as hard as she is. You have no idea where this boldness is coming from.
“I mean, I’ll leave if you really want me to, but. That really doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”
She bites her lip as a visible shiver runs through her, her hands balled into fists. You notice suddenly as she’s let go of the sweatshirt you can see more of her thighs, which are slick.
“L-last warning, you should go or I won’t be able to control myself anymore and then you won’t be able to either..”
You hesitate a moment longer. Your gay little heart never could have predicted that this would happen when you woke up today. It would have stopped beating from excitement and nervousness and panic. And yet. Maybe it’s the whiff of her flowers that you got earlier egging you on. But you just feel unusually confident.
Walking towards her, you breathe in deep.
The change in her eyes is instant. They flood in a dark, saturated violet. Her fingers flex, she stares at you with hunger and purpose and bestial desperation. You hear growling. Oh wait. That’s from you.
The smell of moss and overripe peaches heavy on your tongue, you realize through a fog of intoxication that she’s not the only one acting feral. You growl and snap and you’re upon her.
Normally, your sense of propriety would at least keep you from rolling around in the dirt and mud of the forest floor, but all that melts away as the two of you wrestle and make out, your clothes filthy in an instant. You kiss like you’re devouring her, and breathe in deep clouds of the arousal-inducing perfume of her flowers. You bury your face in her hair for a moment, and shiver.
She’s in your lap and your fingers slide up her thighs, you roll her clit gently with your thumb while your first two fingers gently tease her. They slide in so easily, she’s so wet, she’s so ready, she’s so desperate. Your dick twitches, so hard it’s almost painful. You haven’t topped in a while, you usually have trouble with it, but right now you can’t hold any other thought in your head.
Her hands grip your shoulders and the thorns that grow from her skin cut into you with little stinging lines. The pain is sweet as wine.
Whining and grinding against your fingers to push them even deeper. But that’s no enough for her, not for long. She pulls herself away, and fumbles with the buttons on your jeans. You take the opportunity to breathe in her scent, and run your fingers through her hair.
It’s like she doesn’t remember how clothes work. Her fingers helplessly fumble, and you growl, impatient. You probably couldn’t do any better, not like this. Your capabilities have been narrowed, made specific. She gets frustrated, takes a handful of your jeans and panties to pull taut, and with a particularly wicked thorn on the side of her arm, slices the fabric halfway down to your knee. Free enough, you wrap your arms around her waist, and eagerly pull her into your lap.
She’s light in your arms and her breath is hot and sweet as she squirms and grabs at you. An awkward, fumbling rush of sweat and touch. You don’t have to be self conscious, or worried, or scared. All you have to do is fuck her until you’re both exhausted.
You grip her hips and she guides your dick and you gasp and she lowers herself onto it and gives a sharp squeal of wild excitement. You slid in so easy. You grunt and snap and use her hips to move her up and down as you move your hips.
Overcome with realized anticipation, she bites down hard onto your shoulder as her fists clench handfuls of your shirt. You hiss in pain, but keep your pace. Rocking her hips greedily, squeezing and throbbing as you gasp and growl.
The first time you come inside her goes barely noticed. Your breathing gets more haggard, her panting higher pitched, and you feel it spurting up inside her.
But you don’t slow down.
You can’t.
The same with the second and third time. The fourth is when you have to take a moment to catch your breath. You stop, slump forward and let out slow heavy gasps. She continues grinding against you, but slower, more laborious. Not done yet, but soon.
You swallow, and keep going. Her back in in the dirt now, you’re on top of her, her fingers tangling dirty in your hair. When you come again, she comes with you, legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you tight, keeping you close while you fill her.
Until, finally, she is satisfied. And it’s over, both clinging to each other, exhausted. You pull out as you feel yourself soften at last.
You’re both silent for a while. You get off of her, but she clings to your sleeve and stays close to you, even as she pulls herself into a sitting position. She tucks her long sweatshirt under her butt so she’s not sitting directly on the ground. Her eyes are back to pale purple.
After a while, you say “so, it wears off after a while huh.”
She’s blushing again, though less intensely than before. Being that.. Close. Has a way of making someone feel familiar.
“It’s more of a pause break. Once my body realizes I’m not pregnant in like 24 hours it’ll start putting out the perfume again.”
“O-oh? Right, I’m on hrt.”
“No that doesn’t matter, you’re extremely fertile right now because of the purfume. That’s why you. Um. Produced so much.”
She’s clenching her thighs together a little.
I’d give it a week before your production goes back to normal.”
“W-what?”
She looks sheepish.
“Wait, no it’s okay! I’m on a special, extremely powerful contraceptive in case this exact thing happens. Sorry, I should have lead with that.”
You absolutely can’t hide your relief from lighting up your face.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have put you in this situation..”
“I mean, you did your best, I’m the one who pushed. I’m the one who should be apologizing for making you uncomfortable.”
She pauses for a long moment.
“How about we make a pact. We’ll stop helplessly apologizing at each other, and just bask in the really good sex we just had?”
You grin, relieved again.
“I’ll take that deal.”
“Though that won’t stop me for apologizing for all those scratches, fuck.”
Looking down, you realize that you’re just sort of idly bleeding from cuts all over your arms and shoulders. Not much, it’s all shallow scratches.
“Your thorns are sharp huh. Though, I barely even feel them honestly.”
She nods. “Yeah, lingering effects.”
“They’ll clean up fine. I’m more worried about. Ah.”
You gesture to your wrecked pants. She grimaces.
“Yeah. And like. Do you know were my underwear ended up?”
“Uhhhhhhh.”
“I’m like. Leaking. Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have left my kit at home. But no one comes out to this part of the woods!”
“I’m kinda newly returned. I live a couple miles, um.”
A quick look around, and a glance at your compass, which didn’t get damaged somehow.
“That way.”
She pulls herself to her feet, then makes a face, pushing her thighs together to try and stop more cum from dribbling out on her legs.
“I only moved to these woods a couple months ago myself. I’m surprised they’ve been unoccupied for this long, they’re really lovely. Er. You don’t happen to have like. A towel or something.”
You think for a second, before shifting and tearing off a rough strip of denim from your pants.
“Oh, you didn’t have to-”
“They were wrecked anyway, don’t worry about it.”
She accepts when you hand her the cloth strip, and starts cleaning herself up. You look away to give her a little bit of privacy.
“So you gonna walk a couple miles home in your underwear then?”
“Better than trying to hold my jeans together while I waddle my way I think.”
She shakes her head, and offers a hand to help you too your feet.
“My cabin is closer. Least I can do is have you over, get you a skirt or something. Lunch if you’re up for it.”
You clasp her hand and grin.
“That sounds pretty nice actually.”
~~~
Comments
Brooke
GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY alarm bells are ringing ins my head
Alyssa Harder
I think so too, actually! Just amusing and relatable.
Benn Ends
Nah, you read it right. Thought it would be a nice grounding detail
Alyssa Harder
Okay finally got around to reading it, this was cute as hell. Very nice. The first story of yours i can remember hearing about the realistic difficulties of HRT wrt penetration lmao. It made me giggle. Unless "you usually have trouble with it" meant emotionally, but I was assuming it meant physical.
Benn Ends
Gald you enjoyed!
drone r0m-3
AHHHHH! This was amazing! I loved it.
Alyssa Harder
This was both!
Benn Ends
Mhm, I try to keep a good balance of relevant information and also humor with cws, makes em more fun to read
Alyssa Harder
Also like appreciated, I am not always 100% of the time in the emotional state to want to read smut where the first-person narrator is topping, so like, good call. just really fucking funny
Alyssa Harder
Okay I'm sorry, I haven't even read it yet but the fact that your audience is so reliably subby that you have to warn us that the PoV is the top in the CWs is, frankly, hilarious. It's almost as good as "mentions of cis people" from the dragon story.
