Of course not. Only pleasant things would happen, dear traveler. Pleasant and dreamlike and gentle and wonderful. Aren't you tempted? Aren't you oh so curious?
That's right. Come a little closer. The pull feels good, doesn't it? It'll feel even better if you slip just beneath the canopy's edge. It's alright. You can just stand here, just inside the treeline, and let yourself feel it for a while. You're not an idiot, after all; you know better than to chase after mysterious sweet feelings that emanate from the depths of the woods.
You'll feel restless before long, but in the nicest way. You can pace in safe little circles to channel that energy. That couldn't do any harm. Perhaps each circle will be slightly larger than the last; what of it? Perhaps you'll find yourself pausing at the furthest reach you dare commit yourself to and staring deep into the woods, clenching your thighs and parting your lips. Perhaps you will find you have a little more daring than you thought, after all. Enough for one more step. Oh. Perhaps just one more... Oh.
You'll be a whimpering mess by the time you reach the tiny brook. You'll jump it and fall your hands and knees on the other side, hard and sopping, but not letting yourself be distracted by your own aching flesh. You're stronger than that. You'll keep crawling deeper into the forest, seeking the gentle promises that you can't name or picture and can't live without.
You'll feel dizzy, breathless, hear yourself start to moan aloud; and you'll keep crawling. You'll cry out and crunch fallen leaves into your fists and shudder as the first release rocks you; and you'll keep crawling. You'll feel the whispered promise of more, so much more, tugging, tugging at your chest and your nethers; and you'll keep crawling.
Each burst of ecstasy will grip you harder. You'll have to stop crawling for torturous seconds at a time as pleasure siezes your limbs and wracks your body. They will start coming closer together, each building on the last, until you can barely crawl forward three paces between each long, groaning pause. Your brows will remain ever lifted, eyes closed, mouth gaping obscenely. Your limbs will tremble like leaves in a storm, until one of them finally gives out and you tumble sideways into the litter. Everything between your legs will be twitching in ecstasy as you go down.
And there you'll stay, writhing and grunting and sobbing for joy. Your hands will find their way to your burning heat, but you'll be too far gone for the coordination needed to remove your garments, or even to reach inside them. You'll paw at yourself clumsily through your sodden clothing and occasionally open your eyes to stare up at the distant green canopy in a stricken daze, before closing them again as the next release shudders through you.
There will be nothing more but this. You will belong to the forest and it will feed on you until you are so depleted and exhausted your heart gives out, and even that final seizure will feel like the most wonderful thing that ever happened to you.
Doesn't that sound nice, dear traveler? Come closer. Come closer. Just for a moment.
MDNI: this blog is 18+. Minors and ageless blogs please do not interact with this post; if you do I will need to block you. This is for my own legal arse-covering purposes and not because I dislike you or think you have no cope. Thank you for understanding.
