Jack in the forest

A 21^st century boy finds himself on an alternate medieval version of Earth and goes on a journey that does not end where he hoped.

Inspired by the superb book “The Talisman” by Stephen King and Peter Straub

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Jack in the forest

The farther Jack walked from the town along the Great Road, the closer the forest on either side grew. He took his shirt off, walking bare-top in the bright sunshine. The cotton of his Tshirt had been transformed into rough, itchy wool here in the Territories. He sensed a distinct chill in the air now. He had not consciously noticed the change, but Jack felt it becoming oppressive. The trees seemed darker and more ominous, and it gradually dawned on him that the sound of birds and animals had dwindled to nothing. He hastened his pace, eager to be away from the forest. The trees had also changed from straight, healthy, widely-spaced oaks and birch, to gnarled and twisted plants that crowded close together. He didn’t recognise the type of trees, but the branches were crooked and contorted, and it seemed as though too much of the roots was visible. In between the tortured trees, were vines and heavy brambles.

Suddenly, Jack heard a sound like thunder. It could only be Morgan Sloat’s carriage. In a panic, he ran into the darkness of the forest to his left. He stepped behind a tree, but as the sound grew louder, his fear of being spotted grew with it. There was something about his Uncle; he seemed to have a second sense here in the territories. Jack moved deeper into the forest, clambering over briars whose stalks were as thick as his arm, putting several layers of trees between him and the road.

Although it was bright sunshine along the road, it was gloomy, even just fifteen feet into the forest where the boy stood. The atmosphere was dank and humid, and Jack’s heart was pounding. He couldn’t tell if he was more fearful of Sloat or the forest. He hid behind a tree watching the road through a narrow gap in the cover. A huge black diligence came into view, drawn by eight horses, slowing as it came. When it was adjacent to Jack’s hiding place, it stopped, and after a few moments a large man got out on Jack’s side. Jack could tell, without ever having seen him, that the man was Morgan Sloat. He had a presence about him: he exuded a certain meanness, as though he wouldn’t bother to avoid an animal in the way of his carriage.

Jack watched him in dread, afraid even to breath. It appeared as though Sloat could sense him. Jack almost expected the man to start sniffing the air. Instead Sloat looked around him, scrutinizing the forest. At one point, he gazed directly in Jack’s direction and the boy felt his testicles climb high into his scrotum, as he stood motionless and terrified. It was all Jack could manage not to wet himself. Then the man’s gaze moved on and Jack almost cried with relief. Sloat studied the trees for two or three minutes and Jack remained completely motionless the whole time. Then to the boy’s infinite relief, Morgan climbed back into his carriage and continued on his way. Jack remained completely motionless as the carriage pulled away. Even when he felt something brush against his foot, the powerful sense of evil emanating from Sloat ensured that the boy didn’t move a single muscle. He stood listening to the sound of the enormous black carriage getting fainter and fainter, but even then, he was convinced that Sloat was playing some sort of game with him, and that he had secretly crept back, waiting for the boy to move and betray his position. So Jack stayed still for a further five minutes, just to be sure. It was only when he felt movement on his foot again, that he looked down to see what it was, suddenly mindful of where he was hiding.

Jack was surprised to see that a tree root had encircled his left foot. He tugged his foot, trying to lift his leg, but he could barely move. With a frown, he reached down to unwind the root, but he was shocked to discover that the root completely encircled his ankle and could not be simply unwound. He stood up with the intention of using his other foot to pry himself free, and he leaned with his left hand against the tree that he had formerly been hiding behind. Suitably steadied, he stomped against the root that ensnared his ankle. It immediately contracted, and Jack gasped in shock, standing bolt upright; his eyes wide. He tried to calm himself down so that he could approach the situation rationally, rather than allowing his fear to get the better of him.

He still had Speedy’s magic teleportation juice if he needed to get out in a hurry – he could always jump back to the normal world in an emergency but he doubted that he had four doses left and he needed to ration them: his mother’s life depended upon it.

Jack looked around himself, surveying the forest. It was gloomy but nothing else moved. Okay, maybe he had made the root move with his foot he rationalised. He decided to to take a closer look and a second try at unwinding the branch by hand. Jack leaned forwards, but he immediately realised that his left hand was trapped too. He looked at the tree he was leaning on, and it appeared as though his hand had literally sunk into the surface of the wood, which had somehow healed back on top of his hand without him feeling it. Jack tugged at his hand, forcing himself to remain calm. It was locked solid against the trunk of the tree.

With the last vestiges of his self-control, Jack reasoned that now was the time to take a swig of Speedy’s magic juice. True, there were only a few more portions of juice, but this situation clearly warranted it. He’d just take the smallest sip, and see if that would be enough to transport him back to his world; 21^st century Earth. The juice bottle was in a leather pouch on his left hip. Jack reached across with his right hand and opened the pouch. He reached inside and withdrew the small ornate bottle. The humidity in the forest had made it slippery. He carefully unstoppered the bottle one-handed, and raised it to his lips. Just as he was about to take a sip, something cold touched his scrotum. He jumped with shock, the bottle falling from his hands. His attention was divided between the bottle and his balls. Instinctively, he dived to save the bottle, but the thing in his trousers started encircling the top of his scrotum. He frantically tore at his linen trousers, untying the rope belt and pulling the rough fabric away from his body. Underwear had apparently not been invented yet in the Territories. Inside, he was horrified to see a slender tree root wrapping around the top of his ball-bag. The root was covered in wet earth. He grabbed it in revulsion, and unwound it from his balls; his loose, crudely-made trousers falling to his ankles as he did so. He snapped the root, and dived for the bottle, but he was mortified to discover that he couldn’t reach it with his left hand embedded in the tree beside him. Frantically he tugged at his arm, struggling to get free as he watched the precious juice leaking out onto the mossy ground.

He was only too aware that a thicker root had started to encircle his right foot, but still he couldn’t free his hand. Suddenly, the root yanked his leg three feet to the right, raising his foot well above the floor, and twisting his spine uncomfortably. The light fabric of his trousers tore apart from the force, and Jack was momentarily stunned by the violence and suddenness of the movement. If his left hand were not secured to the tree, he would have fallen onto his face, as it was, he rocked forwards. His legs were wider apart than he had ever moved them before, and Jack was only too aware of his slender penis flapping about down there, completely unprotected, along with his balls. As it was, he barely had time to give it a second thought as a vine started snaking up his body. Jack tried to stop it with his remaining hand, but it was like trying to fight against a rock. As the vine reached the top of his body, it wrapped around his left shoulder, then started to encircle his left arm, forcing the arm outwards. Jack strained with every sinew, but soon his arm was held outwards at right angles from his body. A branch from an adjacent tree reached towards his right arm, and once it had wrapped tightly around his right wrist, it pulled to the right stretching him to the limits of his reach. He looked down, and he could see his torn trousers, along with his dropped shirt and the magic juice bottle slowly sinking into the tangled forest floor, enveloped by a roiling mass of roots and brambles.

Jack knew now, that he was not going to escape without a miracle or help. His only hope was to shout for assistance from a passing traveller. A vine dropped from above him and wrapped around his neck. It lifted him by the chin, holding his head as immobile as the rest of his body. Jack was almost beyond terror. He knew that the forest was going to do to him whatever it wanted. He was completely incapable of escape, and yet the trees didn’t tear him limb from limb as he’d expected they might. Instead, they simply held him, keeping him stretched out like an insect pinned to a display board.

He felt another soil-slimy root snaking up the inside of his naked leg, circling round and around as it rose. When it reached the top of his leg, it swayed back and forth, like a charmed snake, then it rose up behind the boy’s scrotum, following the line his perineum between the cheeks of his bottom. Jack felt the tip push against his anus, and it immediately slid past, up into his bowels. He couldn’t see how thick the root was, but he could feel it rapidly stretching the ring of his sphincter, as more and more of the root entered his body. It felt to Jack like the root was as thick as a cucumber. He had a growing feeling of fullness in his bowels, and yet the roughness of the root as it passed the nerve-dense walls of his sphincter was creating feelings that Jack had never experienced before. The root stopped entering him. His belly was distended, and Jack could feel his hole stretched as though he was trying to pass the biggest turd ever.

Two roots no thicker than drinking straws entered Jack’s nostrils and passed down his throat into his lungs. Immediately afterwards, a thicker root entered his mouth, and passed down his throat to his stomach. It stifled his vocal chords, and now the boy could not even make a sound. He hung, stretched and mute, wondering what the plants were doing to him.

He felt another slender tendril moving up his body; using his inner thigh to guide itself. It found his penis and slipped inside his foreskin. Jack had visions of it sliding into the eye of his dick, but instead it wrapped around behind the sensitive head of his dick, gripping it. The tendril moved away from him, stretching his dick to the left, skinning his tender foreskin back in the process. Jack gasped at the strength of the pull, and tried to move his pelvis in the same direction, but the root in his anus held him still. All the boy could do, was clench his butt cheeks and pray the plant didn’t rip his dick off. It didn’t, but it came close; stretching Jack’s slender three inch floppy to almost seven inches, before it stopped, keeping him stretched like a piece of elastic.

Now another even thinner vine found the tip of his penis, and this one did slide inside the opening of his urethra. It was no thicker than the inside of a biro, yet its passage felt even more invasive to Jack than the fat root that had penetrated his butt. He could feel the tip deep inside him. It felt like it was passing up into his stomach, but then Jack realised it was going back down into his left ball. He could feel it going down the cord into his nut. The vine punctured the wall of his epididymis, causing Jack a brief moment of pain, like an injection. Then the tendril flowed into his ballbag and he could feel his scrotum jiggling about. Another vine about the same size entered him, and this time it made the inside of his dick hurt because of the extra size. It moved down the right cord to the top of his right nut, before bursting through the epididymis on that side.

With his head secured, Jack couldn’t even look down to see what the plants were doing to him – he simply had to guess based upon the feel of it. He didn’t know why, but it felt like the plants were deliberately invading and touching his most intimate areas, almost like they wanted to debase him. Although he would have welcomed any help, a small part of Jack’s mind was glad that no-one could see him being assaulted by the plants. His mind briefly went to his old life in New York before he’d embarked upon this mystical trans-dimensional quest to save his mother.

Jack didn’t need to see to know what happened next. A vine trapped his testicles in his scrotum and pulled them downwards. Then one of the vines inside him wrapped around his right testicle, and the other gripped his left, encircling them many times. The feeling was strangely sharp to Jack, as the vines in his scrotum rubbed against his raw testicles. Then the vines slowly tightened, squeezing Jack’s soft testicles around the middles until they resembled small dumbbells, right on the verge of bursting. He tried to scream but the vine in his throat prevented his vocal cords from making a single sound. He felt like there was someone standing on his balls and he almost passed out from the pain.

The plants gripped his balls tightly for 15 minutes before easing off a little. However, the pain did not diminish for several miserable hours. Jack hung immobile and eventually the forest turned to a deep, jet black. There were still no sounds and Jack could not see the sky to know if the moon was out or stars shone down. He could feel a constant unsettling writhing from the tendrils in his ball-bag and the one in his rectum. Despite his predicament, he was exhausted and eventually he drifted off to sleep.

After an unknown amount of time he was awoken by a sharp pain the nuts and Jack surmised correctly that the vines had given him another squeeze. In the total darkness, he couldn’t move; he couldn’t see; he couldn’t cry out. All Jack could do was feel the pain in his nuts, and wonder what his fate was to be.

He hung there for a week, and surprisingly, he didn’t get weaker from thirst or hunger. Two or three times a day, the plants would squeeze his balls, but apart from that, they did nothing more to him. He could hear carriages clattering past during the day, and on a couple of occasions he even heard voices as parties passed on foot, but of course, Jack was powerless to call for help or in any way try to attract attention.

On the eighth day, the unmistakeable sound of Sloat’s carriage approached. Jack was beyond fear of the man. There was nothing else he could to hurt him and now death seemed preferable to the life ahead of him. The carriage stopped and in front of him Jack could see the forest writhing. The trees literally parted allowing Morgan to approach him. Morgan stood there with a half grin on his face.

“Hello Jack, having fun?”

Jack frowned and the vines around his balls tightened enough to make them ache, almost as though the plants were telling Morgan that they would not release the boy to him. Morgan looked down at Jack’s smooth testicles as they contracted.

“That looked… uncomfortable boy.”

Jack stared back at him. The man’s stare was not sympathetic. In fact, even to Jack’s inexperienced mind there was something dirty about the way Morgan looked down at his nakedness. But still, the man was family – his father’s brother. Jack started to cry. Maybe there was a hope? Perhaps there might be a shred of decency about Sloat after all.

Sloat stared at him with a look of bemusement, then he walked up and started rubbing his finger in a circle over Jack’s glans. As he did so, he asked with a grin, “What have you gotten yourself into Jack? If you wanted to masturbate there are safer ways.”

A chill passed down Jack’s spine. Morgan’s touch was so inappropriate that the boy knew then, that he was not going to be rescued. At that moment, he gave up any hope of rescue, and hoped simply that Sloat would kill him quickly. Sloat continued to rub Jack and in spite of his predicament, the boy’s body instinctively reacted, slowly inflating his penis.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t get too excited Jack, the plants won’t like that. They want all of your seed for themselves.”

Jack realised then, that Sloat knew exactly what was happening to him. Morgan continued to work on his penis, which had become extremely hard. Suddenly the vines squeezed his testicles harder than they’d ever done before. Jack’s erection was gone in an instant.

“See, I warned you. The plants don’t want you wasting your juice. In fact, they won’t allow it. You see, you’re going to be here for a long time. Your seed helps to give them life and your pain gives them consciousness. That’s why they hurt you every so often. Most of the time, they’ll just keep on milking you – drinking you dry. In fact, the vine in your mouth is feeding you special food to ensure that you make as much sperm as possible. It also gives you something that amplifies your sensitivity to pain, at the same time stopping you from passing out. As soon as your pain has completely gone, they give those feeble little nuts of yours, a good hard squeeze, so that the plants can use your suffering. All along this road, the forest has captured thousands of men and boys, and they’re doing exactly the same thing. No-one ever breaks free. You’ll be here, feeding the trees for the rest of your life.”

Morgan smiled warmly, then turned and walked out of the forest, leaving Jack to his fate. The trees closed behind him, and tears rolled down Jack’s face as the vines hungrily drank his seed directly from the tap.

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