It was a hot summer day as Gus dragged along through the unfamiliar woods. He was on the hunt for the perfect spot to play banjo. With his banjo strapped on his back he continued on deeper into the isolated woods. Beads of sweat dripped down his face and back. He had unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt as a last ditch effort to cool off, but it was all in vain. The sun beat down on his as he trekked on.
He walked head down just starring at the path below his feet, which in all honesty wasn't much of a path at all. It looked as though it had been ages since anyone had walked it, and yet it was still faintly visible to the keen eye, almost as though the wild flowers and weeds preserved it in time, worked around it.
No matter Gus thought, and continued on. The weight of the banjo seemed heavier with each step. He grabbed his water bottle and poured it over his face. He closed his eyes as the water splashed across his face. Although the water was warm, it was still refreshing as it washed across his face taking with it the dirt and sweat. Little beads of water got trapped in his beard. He opened his eyes and finally looked up. It felt like it had been forever since he held his head up and it made him a bit light headed at first.
He scanned the area and had a moment of panic. He had never been this deep into the woods and just as he was about to turn back, he caught out of the corner of his eyes. It was perfect, exactly what he was looking for. There in a small clearing was a large smooth stone, which sat about 3 feet high. The sides were covered in vines. The sunlight was blocked, as the trees wrapped above the rock almost like a hand being held up. Yes it was the perfect spot, that made the entire trek worth it. He swung his banjo off his back and climbed up on the stone. The top of the stone was completely smooth, almost like a slab that stretched over 10 feet. It was so cold that he could feel it right through his pants and it cooled down his entire body.
He let out a sigh and opened his banjo case. "What to play?" he thought. At that moment he closed his eyes and began to relax. Soon he felt himself in a trance, his body nice and cool. His hands worked up and down the banjo, almost as if they were possessed. He soon heard a soothing melody coming from his banjo and became aware that he was no longer in control of his hands. They just played and he looked down in amazement as the worked down the banjo neck, playing this melody that seemed familiar but he couldn't place it.
He felt something crawl along the back of his neck, damp and suctioning to his skin. His body shivered and thought it was a bug but he couldn't lift his hands to slap it away. His hands were stuck playing. No, it wasn't a bug, more like a mossy vine. He felt something crawl along his shoe and ankle and looked down and saw vines slowly crawling along his shoes and gripping. He panicked and began kicking furiously to get the vines off but that ended quickly as he felt them wrap around his ankles and hold his legs still in place. He wanted to scream but couldn't, not that it would have mattered being that deep in the woods and nobody would hear him over the banjo which still played the soft melody.
The vines had wrapped around his shoes and ripped them off, tore through his socks like paper. He tried to jerk his legs but his hips but to no use. The vines had wrapped around and up his legs tearing at his pants.
With his feet exposed, he felt a damp cool moss clinging to the tips of his toes, almost sucking on them. It sent shivers up his body as his toes curled and all he could muster was a long sigh. The moss spread his toes apart and engulfed them like a vacuum.
He noticed the vines around his legs and waist tightened. Not like a boa constrictor but more of a gentle grip. The tore at his pants, loosening them and he could hear the last stitches of his pants and underwear give way. At this moment he was able to get out a "PLEASE STOP!" , as he felt his exposed skin touch the cool stone. He was still sitting upright, banjo still playing but he noticed his hands had stopped now. "It had worked" he thought but the melody carried on in the air. The banjo was pulled out of his hands and rested on the other end of the rock. He noticed feeling slowly coming back into his hands and looked down in horror at what was happening to his body.
He was holding in his moans as the moss sucked his toes. He heard a rustling in the bushes in front of him and he was able to shout "Please help me!".
All at once the vines grew in number around his legs. One vine, which felt almost tongue like, begin sliding up his inner thigh, higher and higher, leaving a cool sticky tail. As it reached his balls he let out a moan "noo". The vines tip was so wet and soft and just flicked against his balls. His whole body tensed up and his balls tightened as he let out a deep sigh.
The vine moved down sliding along under his balls and to his ass. It kept moving following the ridge between his cheeks to the bottom of his back and stayed laid out right there. He tried to shut his thighs but they wouldn't budge as the vine had split off into other branches, which had wrapped around the inside of his thighs and held him open.
He sat there with the vine in between his cheeks, spreading them gently. "Please someone...anyone help", he cried out.
