Willow 3

Riding my pushbike to work one morning last week, I was delayed when a twig protruding from a shrub by the path dislodged the chain. I needed to stop the bike and untangle it from the derailleur gear sprocket on the back wheel. It would be a straight-forward operation. My brother taught me and his two other sisters how to maintain and repair our own bicycles when we started riding.

I stepped away from the cycleway to leave it clear for other cyclists and joggers, and inverted the bike near a fallen branch. I sat on the branch under a tree similar to a willow tree. All its leaves were dead on the ground and long hanging branches of varying width from hair-like to much thicker cord-like branches hanging down almost to ground level, blowing in the light breeze,.

I noticed that some of the lighter stringy hangings had wound themselves around my tool kit hanging from the rear of the seat. They appeared to be holding on tenaciously and I was unable to pull them away to untangle them. Others began to wind around the fingers of my right hand and as I tried to pull them off my hand with the fingers of my other hand, I began to feel a measure of panic as the tree was doing everything to prevent me from doing anything I was attempting. As my other hand became caught up, I realised I was being held captive, by a TREE!

I snapped my hands together to try and maintain some last desperate control over them, but I was no match for the strength of the fragile looking tree branch strings. My hands were being separated and thicker cords wrapped around my wrists and began to raise me to my feet. I shook my shoulders in a violent shimmy, struggling to try and free myself from these frightening flexible pendants descending from the tree, but it was no use. I began screaming at my helplessness.

Passers by slowed down to watch what was making me struggle and call out. At the same time, thick ropes of vine like branches coiled around my ankles and alarmingly spreading my legs apart. I began to fall backwards when the cords around my wrist caught my arms and prevented me from falling.

One man came over to try and rescue me from my predicament and thin cords began whipping at his face and neck.

He yelled out loudly, 'It stung my eyes. It stung my eyes.'

He ran back, blindly holding his hands over his face.

As the vine like cords began pulling on my arms and lifting my weight from the ground, more people had gathered to witness my captivity. Tiny cottons hanging from the tree began to slither under the tight T-shirt I was wearing and began tearing at the fabric slowly shredding until I was wearing only my bra and Lycra shorts, riding sneakers and bike helmet. Then the tiny strings made short work of my bra, cutting quickly through the straps and I watched in shock as my intimate undergarment fell to the ground exposing my 34-inch tits, my nipples standing out, betraying my aroulas and my self conscious shame and embarrassment added to my helpless bondage.

Next, and to my horror, I could feel the insistent tiny strings slithering up under my Lycra shorts that came down to just above my knees. I felt more comfortable not wearing nickers under my sports Lycra, apparently a practice shared by most serious cyclists.

I looked down in dismay as my last garment began to disintegrate, baring my legs, my buttocks and finally my clipped pubic hair in full view of my growing audience standing around fascinated but unable to help. I looked down and saw shreds of my red and white shorts scattered on the ground below me.

I called out in horror, 'WHAT can I DO? What's HAPPENING to me?'

I looked up and saw dozens of the strings from the willow tree descend towards me, and the ends began to rub lightly over my body and the feeling was like a very light massage. It seemed like the tree was lightly feeling me all over. I did not feel any less terrified.

There was no pain but the strings appeared to be trying to learn something about my body. Whenever I gave a ticklish reaction, numerous other strands would gather in the place where I first reacted. They had gathered densely in places where I became aroused in spite of my fear, such as my neck, ears, under my arms, particularly my nipples. My whole upper body had thick clusters of strings, insistently caressing me. Somewhere inside the fear, I was becoming aroused by this tree. It seemed to be behaving as though it had some definable goal concerning me.

Then even more strands descended lower and began to feel my buttocks and as I responded more joined them and felt me between the cheeks of my arse. As they discovered my anus, I could not stop gasping in pleasure. Several of them wound into a thicker cord and penetrated my anus forming a knot inside, and began to gently tug outwards on my rear entry. I knew by the size of that lump inside me, it would never come out without tearing me or doing some serious damage. The pressure was not very strong, just enough to keep me highly aroused.

Then other strings began feeling the full length of my legs and when they reached my toes, I began to react. More clusters gathered around my feet caressing them lightly.

Inevitably, the hair-like strings were exploring my pubic hair and the creases between my legs. As they started to open the folds over my clitoris, a wave of pleasure coursed through my whole body and a dense gathering began tickling my clitoris. Some found their way into my by now moist cunt. The lips were pushed wide apart and the hair wove itself into thicker strings. When the thickly corded strands had stretched me wide open, the strings withdrew from me and gradually a large knot formed in the thickened rope on the outside of my helpless cunt about 14 inches from the end. Then the end of the rope snaked into my slavering cunt and another knot formed inside me. Another eight inches of these strings unravelled deeply into my vagina and began exploring my inside.

I was a helpless captive hovering above the ground with dozens of curious eyes on me. My embarrassment was now completely subsumed by my arousal and the crowd that had built up watched as my helpless body, invaded by thick cords, was aroused beyond anything I could have imagined from anything I had experienced before.

My neck, ears, under-arms, nipples and toes were keeping my body fully engaged. The internal invasion of the knotted rope gently pulling on my anus was keeping me fully aroused, but the ingenious rope that was pushing and pulling on my cunt lips was pressuring my clitoris and releasing that pressure every second while the knotted lump inside my cunt was throbbing as it pulled lightly on me as if trying to escape, and there were numerous strings feeling around the inner walls of my vagina. I knew my climax was approaching and I was helpless to prevent it.

The rope that had for all intent, raped me, was now beginning to thicken even further and began shuddering, fucking my cunt mercilessly, using my whole body to gratify its obvious intent.

Three distinctive pressures ministered my nether region with one-second intervals between them. One would pull lightly on the knotted vine inside my anus, then on release one would apply pressure on my clitoris and the third would pull out, tugging at the drenched inside of my helpless cunt. Each action drove me closer to an unstoppable climax.

It all finally sent me over the edge. I began twitching, my muscles squeezing my anus and cunt over the invasive cords inside my body. My climax shattered my whole body with after shocks driving me to exhaustion, until I finally lost consciousness.

Waking sometime later, lying on the ground, people had begun to disperse. The man who had tried to help me earlier, offered me his long pullover to wear in the interest of modesty and helped me to re-locate the chain.

He said to me, 'You looked like you were being raped. I wished I could have done something.'

'What happened when I passed out?' I asked.

'The rope untied itself and slid out from your entries and let you down to the ground gently, then restored itself to the tree with no evidence of what had just happened. When it began lashing me and whipping my eyes, I thought it was acting like a jealous lover. But I couldn't help watching. You looked very vulnerable and beautiful. I was unable to protect you. I'm sorry.'

'Thank you for trying. You probably felt as helpless as I did. I must have looked grotesque hanging up there with ropes hanging out of me like that', I said.

'To be honest, it was the most erotic image I can imagine. I became very horny and I'm afraid I ejaculated in my undies when you started gasping. It's getting very sticky. But I can say this. I don't think I was the only person turned on by that image,' he said.

'I must go now. I will continue riding to work where I have a change of clothes. Can you write my number down so you can call me and I will return your pullover? My name's Maree. Thanks for your help,' I said. 'I'll see you soon. 'Bye.'

I gave him my number and rode away.

When I next rode past that tree, I glanced at the ground and found other shreds of clothing, which were not mine.

Maybe onlookers from that day returned for close encounters with the same tree.

Perhaps I might stop there myself one more time, just to see what might happen.

I gave him my number and rode away.