Enchanted Dreams: Erotic Tales Of The Supernatural. Nancy Madore

forest would bring her some magic now!

      By this time, Catherine’s body was lightly swaying back and forth in time with the steady, circular motion of her fingers. The activity caused her hips to sink farther into her leafy bedding, settling deeper and deeper into its softness.

      But what was this? Suddenly, Catherine was disrupted by something solid that was buried beneath the leaves of her bed. She tried to ignore it but that only seemed to make it more pronounced. With a sigh of frustration, she sat up and carefully pushed aside the bedding to find out what lay beneath it. When she saw what it was, she gasped. She blinked several times to make sure she wasn’t imagining things.

      Examining the object more closely, Catherine perceived that it was most likely one of the tree’s roots, which had circled back around toward the direction it had come in order to be unearthed in this alcove. This, in and of itself, was not especially unusual perhaps, but the shape of the root was. It rose up out of the ground at an angle, thick and gnarly and long. That it happened to be there, coming up out of the ground in that particular place and jutting out at that particular angle, was certainly no coincidence. The longer she stared at it, the harder it was for Catherine to believe that she hadn’t noticed it sooner. And then her last thought before she discovered it came to her and she blushed. She was now, more than ever, convinced that she was in a magical place where all her wishes would become a reality. But who was behind it? What was the presence she kept sensing?

      Intrigued, Catherine could not resist reaching out and touching the lanky root. It seemed to tremble and pulse in her hand, startling her and causing her to instinctively jerk her hand away. As she gazed at it, she noticed that it was precisely the size, shape and texture she preferred. Although it was a bit rugged and rough, she thought ironically—playing the devil’s advocate for the moment as she skeptically examined her most secret wish come true—and then smiled at her own ungraciousness. But the smile instantly froze on her face. There, and there again, all over the root in fact, there oozed a clear fluid—perhaps a sap of some kind, she immediately suggested to her disbelieving mind—seeping out from its many crevices. Was it possible that the fluid had been there all along? It was, and yet Catherine felt that it was not.

      She suddenly thought of Eve in the Garden of Eden. Was the proverbial apple this impossible to ignore? Already, her body was trembling with desire and anticipation.

      Catherine made her decision in an instant. There was still the disconcerting sense that someone—or something—was watching her. Yet she felt that, whoever or whatever it was, be it fairy or plant life, it watched with approval and meant her no harm. Maybe it was the source of all her good fortune, her benefactor in this enchanted place, granting her every wish like a kind of fairy godmother. All around her there appeared to be nothing but loving energy. In fact, all of the encumbrances of her normal life, which had always been at war with her instincts, were starting to fade, diminishing in importance by the hour. She kept forgetting that she needed to find her way out of the forest, and even what it was that she needed to get back to.

      All of this was a mere fleeting thought in the back of her mind as she excitedly took off her clothes. Uppermost in her thoughts, overruling everything else, was her desire, pure and raw and true. She was unabashedly grateful that the root protruded so far out of the ground as she carefully moved herself over it. The angle, too, could not have been more suitable. All she had to do was ease herself back, little by little, opening herself to the object of her desire in small, slow increments as she inched backward onto it. The clear, sappy fluid that was released by the root not only made the entry smoother, but it seemed to heighten her pleasure as well, increasing the friction as she slid back and forth. It felt as if it seeped into each and every crevice of her silky folds, filling her completely and creating a delightful resistance with its sticky texture, which intensified her pleasure as she slid along the long, gnarly shaft. She struggled to take it deeper and deeper with each thrust backward.

      The root, meanwhile, continued to throb and pulse as Catherine shamelessly used it. She trembled with pleasure, relishing the exquisite feel of it inside her body. Every part of her felt as though it were alive. She went back farther and farther on it as she picked up her pace, delighting in the loud, squishing sounds of her juices as they mingled with the thick sap from the root. And even the forest all around her seemed to stir, pulsing and throbbing right along with her. The fireflies lit up the sky, bringing even her shadow to life where it moved over the cave’s wall in time with her thrashing body. Birds and other wildlife called out to her from the distance. When at last she cried out with intense pleasure, she could not say for sure whether it was her own scream or that of another creature of the forest.

      Almost instantly afterward, Catherine fell into a deep sleep. It was a sleep filled with fleeting visions of strange, sensual places filled with curious and wonderful things. In these dreams, what once was irregular was now ordinary and proper. Plants were living things in the truest sense, with thoughts and feelings of their own as they fulfilled their objective to please those whose lives they touched. All was perfect harmony, where desires were meant to be satisfied. Catherine sunk deeper into the spell of the forest as she dreamed, without the slightest thought for what she was leaving behind. She slept effortlessly in her leafy bed, content and satiated, yet always teetering on the edge of her newfound arousal.

      When Catherine awoke the next morning, she was first conscious of how refreshed she felt. The next thing she noticed was that her injuries of only a day before seemed to have completely disappeared. She was still vaguely aware that there was something she ought to do, but the forest repeatedly distracted her from this awareness each time it threatened to emerge. These distractions took many forms, and in the process Catherine discovered a variety of interesting plants that she had never heard of before, some of which seemed to offer themselves up for practical use. She was drawn to one plant, for instance, for its extraordinary size and spectacular color, but upon closer inspection she found that its huge petals were actually similar in texture to silk. The thick, durable petals were abundant, too, with the ends curling up into themselves like large bolts of fabric. It was impossible to resist making use of these petals for this purpose. She found many unique plants with too many useful functions to mention. It soon became apparent that the highest purpose of the forest and its plant life was to please her. The flowers and plants not only served, but they did so in such an extraordinary and delightful way that they couldn’t fail to please, and Catherine was completely charmed out of her former life.

      In her enchanted forest, time quickly lost all authority over Catherine. She was no longer even aware of the passing days and weeks. Catherine busied herself with taking advantage of the manyjoys and opportunities the forest offered her. In time, she was able to fashion beautiful attire from flowers and leaves—stunning clothes that seemed to caress her skin while allowing her to move more freely. Everything she needed to sustain her life grew out of the enchanted soil, and they consisted of the most appealing and beneficial properties she had ever known. All of her senses were constantly awed and enchanted.

      The only thing missing from this tiny paradise Catherine had stumbled into was a companion. In all of the time that she had been there, she had never seen another living soul. There was plenty of animal life that she encountered but never a trace of another person. Catherine had been talking to the plants almost from the beginning, and over time she started to believe that they could hear and understand her. There were moments when she doubted her own sanity, but she could swear that whenever she opened her mouth the plants seemed to, ever so slightly, lean in her direction and listen. And there was something else out there, too, it seemed to her—some other being that watched over her and listened. Sometimes it seemed so close that she thought she could actually feel its breath upon her neck. But when she turned her head to look, there would be nothing there. This was not overly frustrating for her, though, because she was perfectly willing now to believe in those things she couldn’t see. She trusted that she was sensing something that was actually there. She began to think of them as fairies. Recalling everything that she had ever learned about fairies as a child, they seemed to offer the most likely explanation. She had read in Irish folklore that fairies were actually spirits, wandering the earth in between lives. They had a reputation for being kind and generous overall, although at times they were said to be impish and mischievous. This made sense to her, and it seemed to fit with what she felt about the invisible