By SwampRat
(cl) 2000 Gay Furry Association
Another Kurtz-inspired story ( I was sending him an e-mail and the Muse chimed in, so I have to give him credit for inspiring the tale ). There are 2 endings that I came up with, so I made 2 stories, hence the 'b' on this one.
John was late back from studies.. And the 'short-cut' through the woods had proved worse than he thought. Now the moon was up, and as he wandered through the grass and gourd fields all he wanted was a warm fire and something to eat.
Stopping for a rest he heard a commotion coming from over a hill. Curiosity overcame sense and leaving his small pack on the ground, the lad grunted and grabbed at whatever he could to climb up.. Until he got a glimpse of what was making the noises. John dropped to the ground, and crawled the last few yards to the top of the hill. Parting the grass he stared down in the clearing, completely unable to comprehend what was going on below...
Wolves the size of ponies were standing - some on 2 feet, some on 4.. All were moaning as tongues slid across throbbing canine-meat, thrust stiff dog-cocks under lifted tails into eager partners. Semen coated many a muzzle and rump, and still they showed no signs of slowing down. Another sound made him turn his head.. In another moon-light piece of ground, women with dark fur and cat heads stirred some kind of brew in a big pot, sipping the potion, while others caressing straw-brooms intimately. His young eyes boggled at watching a well- breasted 'lady' lick and lewdly caress the wood handle that jutted between her breasts before moving it downward, back up. Lower again, Teasing herself with the end, moaning as it slipped between her furry thighs. Others did the same, all making animal sounds as wooden handles teased then slipped inside them.
John found it hard to breathe.. Despite their appearance, the closest the lad had come to seeing a naked female was the village cows, and here were a handful showing all they were born with - And then some! He expected to see other creatures - Vampires, Goblins, Satyrs.. But except for some scarecrows with Jack's Lantern heads that stood around like there was nothing to do, the Witches and werewolves were all. And the former were ordinary enough some of the fear left him.. Some. Until something rustled around him.
"Boyhhhhhh.." He was immediately cold, hearing a whisper that could have been dry leaves rustling. Not moving, not Daring to move he gripped the ground tightly, eyes clenched. And nothing else happened. No howls of lust for his flesh, no yowls from the cat-fems who from the sound of it were much too busy with their broom-lovers to be bothered anyway.. Daring to look over his shoulder, he gasped - A wisp floated over him. It was unlike any creature he had ever seen, but he Knew a Haunt when he had one touching him.
It took all of John's will not to scream as something caressed his buttocks.
Tendrils invaded his trowsers, his shirt, tugging at them, and despite his best efforts - that is the best he could do without gaining the attention of the revelers below - they peeled him like a pale shrimp. Leaves bigger than his father's hand slapped his pale cheeks, caressing them as tendrils continued their incessant strokes on his dick. The youth shuddered moaning.. It was only a few months until he would take place in the Harvest Dance when he would have to pick a Wife and the caresses started a burning, yearning lust in his groin..
John gritted his teeth, feeling thicker vines wrap around his nuts, his dick, making his hips move of their own accord. He gripped the grass, watching the debauchery, smelling the musk wafting up on the breeze as his maleness got squeezed, stroked, tugged on.. Again, the leaves slapped his naked rear, tough fronds that moves as hands would over the smooth skin. Little tendrils worked along his tip, making the burning pleasure run up his spine and Exploding through his head, creating a secondary one lower down. Creamy, hot man-cum poured out onto the ground in hard spurts, aided by smooth green stems that worked his nuts over, squeezed and twisted around his dick until the lad passed out, still pumping semen.
* * * *
Morning came with an aching crotch, a pounding head and a cool breeze on naked skin. The vines that had tortured him so were still around, now a bed covering the hard ground. Getting up he moved slowly, still a little dizzy. Found his clothes and a nearby stream to wash up in. Then he followed the vines to a patch of strangely shaped gourds. Finding one that was dry enough to rattle, he picked it carefully and continued on homeward. Maybe he wouldn't Pick a bride, but finish his schooling and move to someplace more secluded.. Where Wold Vines could grow and multiply.
The End.. ?
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