The Morning Wood Tree

by Siggy Shade

My bladder gives up trying to hold back and releases its contents. Warmth and wetness seep down my thighs and soaks into the wooden platform. The mannequin groans. “You look so beautiful, gushing with liquids and feeding me with delicious sustenance.” Right. Because trees need watering. This is so fucked up but that’s something I can think about after my orgasm. Just when I think the mannequin has stretched me to my limit, the texture of the wood forms knots. “Wh-what’s that?” I ask, my voice breathy. “Something to give you extra pleasure.” The knots expand and contract deep in my pussy, and I imagine them as stumpy wooden cocks, each fucking their patch of wall. I lose count after twelve when one of them pummels my G-spot, and my mouth opens in a silent scream. My body goes slack, and I collapse against the soft platform, powerless to do anything but take the intense sensations. Sweat pours from my skin and soaks into the moss, which grows around my body like a time-lapse. I’m covered in cool vegetation, with tiny strands of it tickling my flesh.