Morning light came soft through the trees. We were already at the cabin. The three of us still carrying the quiet of the night before. Coffee on the go. Food on the table. Jess sat with her hands around a mug, eyes on the grain of the wood more than on either of us. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, as if she were still half in the dark.
For a while nobody pushed.
When she did speak, it was careful. She didn’t look up.
“Can I ask things?” she said. “About last night. About all of it.”
I told her yes.
She asked the usual things first. Whether it had been planned. Whether the fae had taken it on themselves. How much of it I had allowed. Her thumb kept worrying the rim of the mug while she listened. I answered straight. We had wanted her to learn what the forest offered. What they did within that was theirs, so long as she came away intact. She was here for the weekend either way. How she spent it was up to her.
Jess nodded once. The movement was small. She was quiet again. Then she lifted her eyes, only briefly.
“There’s the other part,” she said. “The first time. When they took me. Right after we got here.”
She went still. When she spoke again her voice was steady but the edges were uneven. Her free hand had flattened on the table, fingers spread.
“It’s not all in order,” she said. “Some of it’s clear. Some of it’s just feeling. I’ll tell it how it comes.”
She drew a breath that lifted her shoulders and let them drop. Then she began.
Jess kept her eyes on the mug. Her shoulders had drawn up again without her seeming to notice.
“They asked what the forest smelled like. What I could hear. What the air felt like on my skin. Made it sound like they just wanted to know.” A short pause. Her jaw flexed. “I closed my eyes for a second.”
Her thumb rubbed the side of the mug in a slow, repeated pass.
“Then the leaf. Over my eyes. Tendrils holding it tight.” She frowned, gaze unfocused, as if she were looking at something just past the table. “Everything dark. Voices still calm. Still telling me I was safe. Kept giving me that cool sweet liquid. I—”
She stopped. Her mouth closed hard. She restarted without lifting her head.
“I should have noticed. The way they said it. We’ll hold you. Yeah. They did.”
A longer silence. Her free hand curled into a loose fist, then forced itself flat again. When she spoke the edges of the words were thinner.
“They got me to kneel. Forest floor under my legs. Damp at first. Then not. Warm. I didn’t think about it. Not until the shower later.” Her mouth twisted. The rest of her face stayed still. “It was more of that liquid. The sap. Creeping up through the jeans. Against my calves. Then higher as the material soaked.”
She breathed out through her nose. One shoulder ticked, a half-shrug that didn’t finish.
“Minutes after that everything felt—” She gestured vaguely at her own torso, fingers briefly open, then closed again. “Lighter. Like my clothes were the only heavy thing left. I heard myself say it. Out loud. That they were weighing me down.”
A small, humourless sound. Her eyes stayed down.
“They were so quick to help with that.”
She went quiet. Her spine had straightened, then softened, as if she couldn’t decide whether to brace or fold. When she continued, the sentences came shorter, pulled up one at a time. Her hand on the table had gone very still.
“Vines. Soft at first. Then under the clothes. Sap on everything. Encouragement the whole time. You’re safe. Be free. No one else out here.”
Her fist tightened once.
“I let them. I—” She shook her head, a single sharp movement. “I let them take the clothes. Piece by piece. Didn’t even notice the jeans coming undone until they were already cutting the seams. Top next. Bra. I was on my back before I really clocked how far it had gone.”
Another pause. She was looking through the table now, not at it. A muscle in her cheek jumped and settled.
“By then I was already gone a bit. Euphoric. They kept asking how I felt. Kept pushing the next small thing. Vines on my arms and legs so I stayed spread.”
She swallowed. The movement was visible in her throat.
“That’s when the real teasing started. No penetration. Not yet. Just everywhere else. Flowers. Tendrils. Soft at the nipples. Along my sides. Between my thighs without going in. Little sprays of that misted stuff that made every touch feel sharper.”
A short breath. Her free hand opened and closed on nothing.
“Something small. Furry. At my feet first. Then higher. Licking through the last of the fabric until even that was gone.” Her voice flattened. Her shoulders had drawn in. “Front to back. Clit. Hole. Not inside. Just relentless. I was soaked. I could feel it running.”
She stopped. Rubbed her thumb against the mug again, harder than before. For a few seconds she didn’t speak at all. When she did, she had to clear her throat first.
“The vine at my mouth came later. I held it at first. Just held it. Then I licked. Then I sucked. I got greedy. Tried to take more than the rhythm allowed. Kept messing it up. Pushing too far too fast, then having to pull back.” A faint wince crossed her face and was gone. “Tendrils had to steady my hands. Put one on my breast. The other lower. So the vine could fuck my mouth properly without me fighting the pace.”
Silence stretched. Jess sat very upright, then seemed to remember she didn’t have to, and her posture softened in stages. She still hadn’t looked at either of us for any length of time.
“I don’t remember how long any of it lasted,” she said. “Only how it felt. Open. Ache. The forest never in a hurry.”
She drew another breath. Her shoulders had drawn up again.
“After that it got harder to keep track. Not because it was fast. Because it wasn’t. The forest had all the time it wanted.”
Her free hand opened on the table, then closed.
“I was still on my back. Arms and legs held. The vine in my mouth had a rhythm by then. I wasn’t fighting it anymore. I was trying to match it.” A short, uneven breath. “One hand on my breast. The other lower. They wanted me touching myself while they used my mouth. I did.”
She stopped. Jaw flexed. When she went on, the words came slower.
“Something changed under me. The ground. Not falling away. Changing shape. I felt pressure against my ass. Firm. Warm. Tapered.” Her thumb pressed hard into the side of the mug. “I didn’t understand it at first. Then it was there. Pushing. Not a vine moving in. Something fixed. Growing up into me as I was held in place.”
A visible swallow.
“I cried out around the vine. First full stretch that wasn’t just teasing. The spike, whatever it was, filled me and stayed. Static. I had to move on it, or the vines moved me.” Her shoulders ticked. “A vine had already pushed into my cunt by then. Thick. Slow. Every time it drove in, I was lifted a fraction off the spike. Every time it pulled back, I sank deeper. The head of that vine was thick. Fat. It would stretch me, pop inside, push me up the spike, then drag me down again on the way out.”
She went quiet. Her free hand had gone white at the knuckles. She forced it flat.
“They took the vine out of my mouth.” A pause. “Arms lifted over my head so everything was open. Something latched onto my clit. Flowers on my nipples. Tendrils around my breasts, squeezing. The vine in my cunt went deeper. I thought it had bottomed out. Same length as someone I’d been with, only thicker. There was a ridge. A thicker band. I assumed that was the end of it.”
Her mouth twisted.
“It wasn’t.”
Silence stretched. Jess stared through the table. When she spoke again her voice had thinned.
“It built anyway. Whole body. When I came I heard myself say it. Clear. Stop teasing and just fuck me.” She flinched at her own words, a small full-body tick she tried to kill.
She stopped completely. Breath held. Then let out.
“The second I said it I knew.” Her eyes shone. She blinked hard and kept them down. “The spike melted away. I was lifted. Suspended. All three holes filled at once. No more careful. No more shallow. The forest just took over.”
Her hand on the table had started to tremble. She pressed it down until it stopped.
“I don’t remember the order after that,” she said. “Only the feeling. Constant movement. Constant fullness. Over and over. I came until I couldn’t think. Until I couldn’t speak. Until there was only the forest moving through me and their voices saying I was doing well.”
A long pause. Her shoulders dropped in stages, as if the telling itself had weight.
“Eventually it eased. Vines slowed. Withdrew. I was lowered into moss. Something warm and sweet at my lips. I drank. Blindfold off, but I kept my eyes closed. Didn’t want to see anything yet.”
She rubbed her thumb along the mug one more time, slower.
“Next clear thing was the ball of vines on the porch. And the fae saying I’d done well.”
Jess fell silent. She stared at her hands for a long moment, then looked up. The careful blankness was back, but it sat thinner than before.
“That’s what happened,” she said quietly. “That’s how the forest took me the first time. The rest…” She shook her head once. “Not yet. It’s still in pieces.”
