VineByers Part 2
He was of no mind to notice the crunch, crunch, crunch of cotton steps upon the dried leaves. The vines, their strength, their soporific touch lulled the young William into a deep stupor. The vines had thus raised him off his feet and bound him to the tree at his back. That within his mouth was now patiently in his throat, pulsating an opiate-touch against the velvet folds of his within.
The smaller ones tightened round his limbs and ascended. Meandered under his pants, his sleeves, making themselves known across his silken skin, testing the threads of his garments.
So came the figure that bound him. Tall, of willowed build, his hair the flavor of wheat and honey. Will did not see him. His hazel eyes fluttered behind the lids as that thickest of vines gorged itself on the tightness of his throat. A smile slit across the man's face. Drip, drip came his voice, languid and resonant.
"William. My William. You ran for so long. I am so glad that I can help you rest, now. Help you see."
He curled his left hand an two vines slid across the boy's waist, one traveled north, the other, south. The north-vine cleaved apart William's shirt, pop pop pop each button went, fleeing as of their own accord. The shirt itself exhaled with the boy, his chest of an arched fullness as he reacted mindlessly to this disrobing.
The southhward vine was most lecherous. It slid round his waist more and more, an embrace tender and binding, the vine traveling further and further below the hem of his pants with each orbit. In time the button and zipper succumbed to the pressure and split apart, as did the posterior, and poor William moaned sweetly into the vine that penetrated him.
"Much better," spoke the Man. He drew near, eyes imbibing the sight of pants sloughing down the boy's legs, guided by the vine as if a desirous lover. All that remained were the white briefs and that which leaked and trembled within them...