Weird Tales

The storm came on the second night of my camping trip. Weather could change fast this high up in the mountains, but this one I could see coming a long way off. By the time it arrived, a couple of hours after nightfall, I had my camp as battened down and squared away as possible. My tent was double-staked, with extensive ditching, all my gear was stored and secured, and my wet weather gear was at hand.

I had been hiking up into the wild, remote mountains since I was a little kid, originally with my grandpa, but after he passed, mostly by myself. I got up here as often as I could, but at the very least annually. Occasionally others would join me, but I was usually alone, which suited me fine. And through all those years, I had weathered many a storm.

But this was like nothing I'd ever seen before. There were the usual winds, lightning and thunder, which was plenty terrifying and exhilarating enough, but on top of that there were strange, shifting colors; blues, purples, greens and yellows, and very weird sounds. A long, continuous groaning alternated by something that sounded like a chainsaw were foremost, but beside that there was a bell-like knelling, strange alien screams and a very high-pitched whining noise that physically hurt.

The storm seemed to rage on for a couple of hours before it abruptly stopped, a change so sudden it was startling in itself. After all that roaring noise, the relative silence was extraordinary, and then I realized I was hearing bird songs. At about the same time, I recognized that I was seeing the glow of sunlight through the nylon fabric of my tent, and I was flabbergasted. Had I passed out? By my reckoning, it shouldn't even be midnight yet.

And then I stepped outside, and found the world turned on its head. I had been camped on a reasonably level spot on a high mountain meadow, a few dozen feet away from a rushing mountain stream. Now I was standing in a clearing in a forest, surrounded by huge, towering pines whose trunks seemed to be almost orange.

"What the fuck?" I said, and my voice sounded strange in my own ears.

Shafts of sunlight pierced the towering canopy here and there, and from the angle of the light I guessed it must be around noon. Like any pine forest, it seemed gloomy and hushed, but after a moment I recognized the distinct sound of rushing water.

I must have stood there for several moments, stunned by the changes in my reality, but I've never been one for particularly deep thinking, so I found myself moving off in the direction of the sound of the river, or stream, or whatever it was.

There were enough gaps in the trees for me to see that there was high ground around me in several directions, so I was starting to think maybe I had just wandered down off the mountain and then had some sort of blackout or something, forgetting all about it. Maybe I had hit my head: I was fair to partly clumsy, after all.

Within a few hundred yards I came upon a fast-moving creek, and in a few dozen more I found myself standing atop a pretty big waterfall, the water cascading down in a series of short steps, maybe 50 or 60 feet or more before winding away. The scene was spectacularly beautiful.

Then I heard a woman's voice speak from practically right next to me, and I was so startled that I nearly jumped over the edge. I think I even shrieked a little, and if I didn't at the sound, I surely did when I saw who was speaking to me. Or what.

"Holy shit, it's bigfoot!" I blurted in startlement. The woman- the creature standing there regarding me calmly was furry. Well, her bottom half was, anyway. And her arms. And where she wasn't furry, she was brown as a bear. And she had horns. And no clothes at all, only a couple of bags held up by straps that crisscrossed between her pert little tits.

She spoke again, but the words were nonsense, in some language I'd never heard. It was pretty clear to me that I had stumbled into some sort of bizarre furry role-playing game, and this girl was really into her role.

I shrugged helplessly. "Sorry- I'm just lost. I'm not part of your group. Do you know where the nearest road is?"

She cocked her head at me, then cautiously began picking her way over the rocks in the stream towards me. This gave me a chance to get a pretty good look at her. Her costume was out of this world. It even featured little goat-like hooves, which made her nimble movements all the more impressive: they must have been hell to walk on. She stepped daintily into the water a couple of times, and I thought that couldn't be good for the material, but then I noticed her knees bent the wrong way, and no costume could mimic that so well, and I began to feel distinctly weirded out.

She hopped up onto the bank and grinned up at me, and I realized she was less than 5 feet tall. At 6'2, I towered over her. She spoke again, in what I thought might be a different language, but one no less strange, and I shrugged helplessly.

"I think I just have to wait for whatever mushrooms I ate to wear off." I explained patiently.

I had started playing d&d in middle school, and continued on through my college years, so I figured I could confidently place this figment of my imagination as a satyr, although I hadn't known there were any females of the species. I'd kind of thought they were just horny goat-men who chased wood nymphs around, but then again I guess when you're tripping balls those sorts of details didn't matter so much.

But figment or not, she was cute as hell, with her little heart-shaped face and her tightly curled hair and her little goat horns poking up, and those pert little tits and all. She was still talking to me, or at me, and I was still standing there grinning stupidly, when suddenly she reached out and grabbed my hand.

Well, I guess in a really good hallucination there might be a physical, tactile element to it, right? The back of her hand was furry, and it felt funny against my fingers, and I giggled, but I could feel how strong she was, too, tiny little thing or not.

She was pointing down the stream and talking, and following her finger I could see a small group of huts, or maybe tents, down by a far bend of the water. I probably would have spotted them on my own after a bit more scanning, but they did blend in well with the forest around them, so it was no wonder I hadn't spotted them right off. There were people moving there, tiny stick-like figures at this distance, and it seemed pretty clear that she was urging me to go with her down to the camp, or whatever it was.

It seemed agreeable to me, but then I remembered my own camp, a little ways back in the woods, and I didn't want to just leave all my gear there. What if I came out of this and couldn't find it again? So, I carefully explained to the girl-goat what I was going to do, and it was her turn to look all confused, and then I gently tugged her in the direction of the camp.

She somewhat hesitantly followed along, but first she did a curious thing. She stamped her little walking staff on the ground twice, then pointed it up in the air. Now, first off, let me point out that I hadn't really even noticed the staff before this. It was a little taller than she was, narrow and twisty, and it had sort of knob at the top. When she pointed it up, a little ball of light came out of that knob, swirled around for a second and then flashed away, down in the direction of the huts.

I felt the need to say something appropriate and appreciative, so I conjured up a "Far out!", then started back to my tent. We were there in a few seconds, and now it was her being all googly-eyed, oohing at the colorful fabric of the tent, wowing at the texture of the nylon, giggling in wonderment at the way it collapsed so quickly and folded into a neat little package. She was similarly impressed at my back-pack, and I saw what I thought was a newfound respect in her big, weird brown eyes.

And this is where it really started to get weird.

When she laughed, it seemed like a smell came off her, or a perfume. It was almost like I could see it, like a little fog. The effect was hard to describe. Words that relate to the smell of food came to mind: savory, delicious, earthy. And it sort of hit me physically, too, like a punch in the gut, and I think I actually grunted out loud. And among the many reactions that struck me all at once, my cock jumped up to attention.

The goat-girl's head whipped around like she could literally hear that happening, and I saw her eyes narrow with lascivious delight as she spotted the bulge in my crotch. Her tongue came out to lick at her lips, and without any further conscious or rational thought on my part I was hurriedly ripping down my pants, freeing my manhood to spring forth into the sunlight.

She dove at it like a dog on a bone, and her lower jaw must have come unhinged, because she slurped me root-deep in one smooth motion. My pants around my ankles made balance a tricky thing, and I found myself toppling backwards onto the soft pine needles that covered the ground, but goat-girl never so much as missed a beat. Her tongue had a rough texture to it, but it was remarkably dexterous, and it seemed to circle around my shaft and writhe in time with her mouth actions, and the effect was dynamite. I was coming in a matter of seconds, and I shouted my pleasure out loud.

Goat-girl giggled around my meat, but otherwise didn't stop as she sucked my seed out of me. She didn't stop there, either, and kept on going, and my cock showed no signs of ebbing. Then, in one smooth, effortless motion, she just hopped up and impaled herself on my knob.

Now, I've always been told that I'm pretty well endowed. Maybe not to porn star dimensions, but better than average in length and girth, and as I'd noted previously, my partner was just a tiny little thing. So, you'd naturally think that she'd need to ease herself down on my mighty tower of love. But instead, she just paused for the briefest of moments to line herself up and then plunged down all the way to the bottom of the well. She locked eyes with me and literally hooted in pleasure, and we laughed in mutual delight.

Then her weird, backward facing legs began pushing her all the way up till just the tip of my rod was in her, to all the way down till our pubic bones were grinding against each other. She was hot and wet and delicious, and I decided right there that this had to be the world's greatest hallucination ever, maybe in the history of hallucinations.

And this is where it really started to get weird.

To Be Continued