Copyright© Yotna El'toub 2004
WARNING: The characters portrayed in this story are just that, characters in my story. Any similarities to real people are purely coincidental and unintentional. The characters and situations portrayed are pure fantasy; the author is keen to state that in reality adult sexuality should remain only in the adult world. Please do not allow or cause this story to fall in to the hands of minors.
"Yet from those flames no light, but rather darkness visible". John Milton, Paradise Lost.
Chapter one: Finishing off...
The skip was almost full; Jeff bent down and picked up the broken board he flipped it, scattering snails in the process.
He could just make out the faded green script.
'SSSI - Warren's Wood, welcome please take care of... '
Sighing he flicked his wrist, the shattered sign spun through the air, and clattered into the steel container.
"OK Joe, we're about done - they want us off site today," Jeff paused, then added bitterly "that's the last of the old wood; my childhood playground is gone - for good"
"Come on Jeff, I'll buy you a pint, the Dog and Pheasant will be open by now." Joe smiled at his old friend.
Together they packed away the tools, before starting the ancient transit van. Joe drove through the driveway gates then parked up momentarily, allowing Jeff to nip out and lock the gates. Jeff settled back into the torn seat, letting out an even larger sigh.
"When I think of the days I spent in that wood, it's a shame. Bloody money dominates everything! Site of Special Scientific Interest, still it made no difference, a mate of the minister I expect!" Jeff spat his words in disgust.
"I never understood why you accepted the contract, feeling as strongly as you do?" Joe asked.
"I wanted to say goodbye, and make sure the work was done to the highest standard. The place deserved respect, and I was able to ensure it was delivered!" Jeff winced, feeling his treachery stinging.
The tyres of the van crunched as they met the gravel of the pubs car park. Skillfully, Joe maneuvered the large van between the parked cars, before picking out a suitable space. The van shuddered to a premature halt, belching black oil.
The doors were thrown open, and slammed in unison.
"I think this may be a long session; I feel a piss-up coming on!" Jeff grinned for the first time that day.
"OK mate, first rounds on me!" Joe smiled, and slung his arm around Jeff's meaty shoulder.
Chapter two: Moving in...
"Finally, we're here," Adrian stated, "never thought we'd get in - August they said, not nearly sodding November!"
"Still, they've done a good job, it's the nicest in the estate," Judith smiled, peaking over the full tea chest, "Hopefully we can get this lot sorted before Christmas!"
"Where are the kids?" asked Adrian.
"Exploring - I expect" Judith answered, before disappearing towards the removals' van.
Katie ran from room to room in excitement, the house was so big, so airy and light. She vaulted up the stairs, barging a surprised Brian out of the way.
"Oi, nutter!" Brian shouted.
He glared at his sisters disappearing behind, cursed under his breath and plodded on. He tried to remember the plan of the upper floor; his room should be the second on the right. As he reached the landing he smiled, he had remembered correctly, it pleased him, small things always did. He was less impressed when Katie emerged, dashing onwards.
"Hey! Keep out of my room" Brian boomed.
Katie ignored the protest and shot through another doorway, she stopped dead.
As quickly as it had appeared - the mirage of the forest vanished, leaving the scrawny teenager open mouthed, staring at the blank magnolia walls. Katie shivered, she felt watched, no more - observed. She turned on her heels and headed downstairs for mum, and sympathy. In the room a shadow flitted from corner to corner as if searching, hunting- for a way out.
A tearful Katie sat at the kitchen table; it had not gone well. The family wouldn't budge, they didn't care - she didn't want that room! It may have been designed for her; it may have been the most controversial, and the hardest fought - but she hated it. She had only wanted to swap with Brian but no, not a chance. Brian had said she was just being spoilt again, and her parents had agreed. It was so unfair; Katie bit her knuckles until the whiteness threatened numbness. She was not spoilt; she was scared - why couldn't they understand?
Chapter three: Feelings.
Jeff returned his empty pint pot to the bar; that was his sixth - in just under an hour. He felt - if anything, more depressed, if he could only be certain...
"Come on you old git, lets have a game of darts," Joe interjected, "it might take your mind off the wood?"
"Nah, not in the mood tonight, d'you want another?" asked Jeff, with a controlled slur.
"Not me, Jesus, you are slotting them away - take it easy son" Joe coughed.
"Not tonight, tonight I'm getting trashed - tomorrow is a big day..." Jeff's voice tailed off.
"What's happening tomorrow?" Joe asked, his eyebrows rose.
"Oh probably nothing - just a little joke" Jeff smiled, an odd little smile.
Joe wandered off back to his friends, he shook his head - sometimes Jeff seemed so remote.
Jeff sat for a long time, his seventh pint untouched, his mind mulling over the plan. He had selected the wood personally, and positioned it carefully - it was perfect; but still he doubted his ability. It had taken so long, one error in carving or positioning, and it would be over. A shudder ran through Jeff's large frame.
"This is the guy who can tell you, our local amateur historian. Isn't that right Jeff? Jeff!" Cherie's plumby voice was insistent.
"Sorry Cherie, I was miles away" Jeff smiled, indulgently.
"Adrian is moving into one of the new houses, and he's heard of the woods reputation..."
The newcomer cut off Cherie.
"Always up for a laugh, one of my workmates is into all that Wicca stuff" Adrian smiled.
"Don't laugh friend, there's more to life than bloody accountancy" Jeff growled
"How did you know I was an accountant?" Adrian asked, his face falling.
"Just a gut feeling, sod off! I'm not in the mood for your type" Jeff blasted.
Chapter four: Morning.
Katie woke early, and popped her head out from under the protective duvet. The room looked back at her, benevolent and peaceful.
'Maybe I over reacted?' She thought.
She slid the crumpled duvet off, dropping into a heap on the bedroom floor. Katie looked down her body; she was too thin - even at fifteen there was only the suggestion of feminine shape, the slightest of swells to her chest, followed by the flatness of her tummy.
Katie sniffed, and gazed at the poster of Jude Law. He was gorgeous, but unattainable - he would never want her, not with this half girl body. The room darkened slightly, momentarily, as if a cloud had flickered across the sun. Katie blinked, rolled over, and fell back into a light slumber.
In the loft something stirred, and flowed from the eaves towards the insulated floor. Here it pooled oil like, pitch black it gathered, increasing in bulk but not in form. The black sap rippled around the joists, searching, hunting for escape. The smallest of gaps was penetrated and the black ooze flowed from its prison. It gathered on the ceiling before silently streaming down the walls in rivulets of jet, sucking the light from the magnolia hued bedroom.
Katie moaned, and turned in her sleep. Shifting irritably she settled down, her back flat on the bed. Her eyes flickered, registering the dream she peacefully dreamt. They did not register the darkness reaching out for her, and failed to see the tendrils of slime that crept up her duvet. Slowly but unstoppably the unreflective sap hunted her down.
Unnaturally the sap strands streamed up the sheet, getting ever closer to the sleeping girls feet. Finally it reached her largest toe and wrapped an affectionate tendril around it. The secret touch thrilled Katie; her dream darkened and took on a sensual edge. In her fevered mind gentle fingers caressed her toes, sending pulses of impure pleasure racing to her pelvis.
Katie's eyes opened, and she glanced towards her feet. Her eyes widened, and drank in the fullness of her new ripe 'dream' body. Soft mounds tipped with wide nipples adorned her chest, and lush wiry hair replaced her meagre bush. Her hesitant fingers slid to her breasts and plucked the stiffened tips, once, twice - then descended, to part her quivering labia. Silently she rode her passion, arching her back to increase the pressure of her flexible fingers on her thickened nodule.
With an orgasmic grunt Katie woke up, just in time to observe the horror of the darkness sliding from her thighs, and into her contracting body. She felt the repulsive slither of tendrils over her erectile bud, as the ooze made its way down to her slit. Her mind recoiled, and snapped as the pain hit her, drawing her mouth into an expansive, but silent scream. Then it all passed... The darkness filled her - possessed her.
Chapter five: Release.
Brian slept in late, waiting for the house to become his. He knew if he delayed long enough the others would be immersed in the daily routine; leaving the house deserted.
Brian had a secret, it was not one he was proud of, nor was it one he could resist. He rose and slipped on his dressing gown, and made his way to the kitchen. Brian opened the fridge, and drank milk, guzzling it straight from the plastic bottle, ignoring the cold wetness on his chest where the excess slopped. He liked having the place to himself, no hiding, and no refinement. Brian let a loud belch echo around the deserted kitchen, and giggled at his rudeness.
He turned on his heels leaving the fridge door swinging, and strode of to the sink. Like the true rebel he was he emptied his bladder lustily over the morning's washing up. He felt wicked, Brian the punk, no more Brian the wimp. He laughed, one day he would show them, once he was grown - he would show them!
In fact he already was; a pair of eyes drank in his defiant display. Her lips drew up into a sardonic smile, and were caressed by a pliant tongue.
He romped back up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and headed for his parents bedroom. Once there he made for the wardrobe, and his mothers clothes. She was a slight woman, but this was of no matter at the moment; her clothes were a good fit for Brian's immature body. Smiling he drew his hand across her dresses, reveling in the sensual feel. Dreamlike he walked to the cherished drawer, slid it open and delved into the silky contents. His erection poked through the gap in his dressing gown, bobbing with each beat of his heart.
He divested himself of the unnecessary gown and stood naked gazing into the draw. Unseen eyes bored holes in him, as they probed his young muscular back and buttocks. The blackness of the pupils extended to the very edges, sucking illumination into the deep sockets. Katie stood very still, as still as any predator, studying its prey.
Brian twitched, as the rough lace of the suspender belt grazed his sensitive organ. Bending he pulled the thong snugly up against his crotch. He felt alive, as a woman he felt sensual. No more was he foolish and embarrassed, and just thirteen years old. He slipped the silk camisole over his head, and smoothed it over his skinny chest; his hands caressed imagined breasts.
Brian's fingers found his real nipples, and pinched them tightly - he reveled in their reaction. He pursed his lips and checked out his reflection - Brian froze. His eyes locked on his sister's intense face.
As he watched in horror, his sister's reflection walked towards him. Brian swallowed, but his mouth was dry - no spittle came. He was mortified, how, just how was he to live this one down? He felt Katie's body nestle against his back, and then - his heart missed a beat. Katie's hands slid around his young body and plunged under the silk thong.
She freed his upright knob, and rubbing her fingers delicately over its purple head. Brian closed his eyes, and his mind swam. Katie delicately scratched the engorged stalk with her black shiny nails. The blackness slithered from the tips of her fingers, and wound around his pulsing shaft. The darkness spiraled up the shaft, and probed for an opening.
Brian screamed as the jet black ooze penetrated his urethra; Katie ignored his cries and pounded her clenched hand up and down mercilessly. Minutes passed, long throbbing minutes, then Brian buckled - he ejaculated a long stream of intense black spunk, smothering his mother's dressing table.
Chapter six: Friendship.
Jeff woke up late, and he wished he had never woken at all. His head was bursting, his gut turning in the way only ten pints could make it. He actually had forgotten what day it was, then it hit him; it was his day - Halloween!
He swung his weary head, trying to ignore the fuzzy sickness. There on his bedroom floor laid Joe, resplendent with a borrowed duvet. Jeff smiled, even after his behavior last night - Joe had stuck by him, and making sure he got home in one piece.
Gently he kicked the recumbent man, stirring him to grumpy action.
"Get off, I'm dying!" Joe complained.
"Not today, son. Breakfast?" asked Jeff.
Jeff roared as Joe hurtled from the room, clutching his mouth tightly.
Eventually Joe joined Jeff in the kitchen, he still looked pale.
"Not joining me?" Jeff teased, munching a mouthful of toast.
"Not likely, it's your bleeding fault I'm in this state. You broke out the single malt when we got back." Joe complained.
"I noticed," Jeff winked, nodding at the empty bottle of Glenmorangie.
"I'm going for a walk soon, but I won't throw you out - stay as long as you like mate"
"No, I'm off meself, going to spend my Sunday fishing Jeff. I need some fresh air to clear this," Joe smiled as he tapped his temple.
"OK, laters mate," Jeff smiled, "and thanks!"
"No problem, just don't make a habit of it!" Joe waved, as he made his way to the kitchen door, " See you"
Joe started the van, drove a few streets and parked. Patiently he waited.
'I am going to find out what's bugging you Jeff, today I'm going to know, ' Joe thought, 'I have to know what this is all about.'
Joe dozed; he tried to forget his complaining stomach. He closed his eyes and imagined the river swirling peacefully before him, the float bobbed on, and Joe snoozed.
He woke with a start, disturbed by the sound of Jeff's throbbing motorbike. A couple of confused seconds later, the transit swung out of the lay-by, and followed the bike discretely.
'He's heading for the estate, what the hell?' Joe wondered.
The bike followed the road, and then swung left violently - onto a dirt track leading to the far end of the estate.
"Shit!" Joe braked hard.
He swung the van onto the pavement and swore.
"Shank's pony, my very bestest form of transport" Joe spat out his cynicism, to nobody in particular.
Joe plodded along the recently rucked track, wishing he wasn't such a conscientious friend. He could have been comfortable with a hot brew besides his fire, rather than stalking Jeff.
'Bugger' he mouthed into the cool air.
It seemed like miles; in fact it was only a few hundred yards. Suddenly, there was Jeff's bike - leaning in the scrubby grass at the side of the track. The bike was there, but Jeff, he was nowhere to be seen. Just then an odd noise prickled all the hairs on the back of Joes shaved neck; a noise, no - a sound somewhere between an animal, and a human assaulted his attentive ears. Joe turned, and crossed the grass, heading into the ploughed field.
He swung his head from side to side trying to locate the alien cry. Gathering a cautious pace Joe headed towards the hedge at the right hand corner of the field. The sound increased in volume and pitch as Joe approached - it was coming from inside the hedge! Joe broke his stride; something moved, inside the hedge.
"Jeff is that you?" Joe called.
There was no reply, and no change in the rustling, or the guttural screech emanating from the bush. Joe hesitated, and then laughed at himself.
'Some countryman I am! Scared of a trapped animal' he chuckled internally.
Joe thrust his head into the shrubbery; what he saw froze him to the spot. Never could he have imagined it; his pupils adjusted to the darkness and focused more clearly on the obscenity.
Jeff was wrapped in the boughs of a small tree, a tree hidden deep in the bushes cloak. If that wasn't odd enough, what Jeff was doing was even odder. He was, well he was - fucking the wide tree trunk for all his worth. His unbuckled trousers and tartan boxer shorts hung rumpled around his rocking ankles. As if that wasn't weird enough - the tree held Jeff, pummeling his wide buttocks with black glistening streamers. One thick strand had slipped between Jeff's buttocks, and it probed deeply with a pulsing life.
"Jeff! What the fuck..."
His friend turned, and observed Joe through unblinking black eyes.
Joe was galvanised; he turned and ran - heading back for the track, the van, and most of all sanity. In a trice he was at the edge of the field, it was then the nausea hit him. Joe buckled over, and threw up the rest of last night's beer lustily. He gagged, and struggled to catch his breath. Joe straightened up partially, before sinking to his knees - and slumping, lifeless, into his own vomit.
Jeff stared down vacantly at his former friend, his black orbs shinning. He dropped the bloody, jagged, stone from his hand then he turned, and smiling returned to his lover.
Chapter seven: Afternoon.