The Morning Wood Tree

by Siggy Shade

A moan slips from my lips. “D-don’t forget you’re trying to make me squirt. That means you can’t tease me.” “I await your instructions.” Of course. I shake the fog out of my head. “Stick that cock inside my pussy and stroke my g-spot.” “The sensitive patch?” it asks. “Yes,” I say with a moan. The dildo hovering at my entrance presses all the way inside with a delicious stretch that makes me groan. I’m so needy and aroused that I tremble as it fills me to the hilt.

It doesn’t even give me the chance to direct the movements. The tree knows exactly how much pressure to apply and how slowly it needs to slide that dildo in and out of my pussy to make my toes curl. I rest my head on the mossy platform and pant through parted lips. Today is more intense than yesterday’s teasing because of the fingers squeezing, pulling, and rolling my nipples. The only thing I need to make this scene complete is a dildo in my mouth and another in my ass. I force back that thought and focus on the plan to keep the tree entertained until the family comes hunting. Pleasure courses through my core as the dildo moves in and out with measured strokes. I push my hips backward to increase the friction and chase the first orgasm of the day.

“Good girl,” the tree says. “You are producing sufficient amounts of blood and sap.” The praise makes my skin tingle, even though I should be horrified. It’s impossible to feel fear or moral outrage when it’s stimulating my nipples, pussy, and clit. Back and forth, back and forth, the knots on the dildo drag against my g-spot. Each time my walls clamp around the wood, it fills my insides with bolts of pleasure. I’m so close to the edge. The tree seems to sense the start of my orgasm, presumably from all the practice from the night before. Instead of slowing, it continues at a steady pace, teasing me toward delicious oblivion. “I’m gonna climax,” I say between ragged breaths. “Good,” it replies. “Let it all out. Let me taste your delicious release.”

Pressure builds until my walls contract around the dildo. The tree continues teasing that spot with back-and-forth strokes, while the leaf rubs my clit to the point that it feels twice its usual size. An orgasm tears through me like a hurricane, making me gasp and thrash within my restraints. I scream through the sensations, my vision filling with sparks. Warm liquid flows from my pussy, but it’s a combination of my juices and blood. I collapse, my chest heaving, my heart galloping around its cage like it’s trying to find an exit. Any moment now, the tre...

“Just like how I’m offering you my period blood. It’s flowing out of me anyway, and I’m happy for you to take it, but if I have to give you my life, my body won’t be able to produce any sap.”

My ass hits something soft. I turn around to find another raised platform, and a pair of branches rise from the floor and snake around my ankles. They wind up my calves, passing my knees, and make a slow descent up to my thighs. Another set of branches grabs my shoulders and pushes me so I’m lying face-down on the surface. I push myself up to my elbows and stare over my shoulder. The wall straight behind me continues to protrude. A huge shape forms from the wood, resembling the outline of a human. Two spots shine from beneath its surface, looking like a pair of glowing eyes.

It looks like the tree is sculpting a seven-foot-tall mannequin, with broad shoulders and a muscular physique. I shift on the platform, but the branches twine around my legs and spread them further apart.

I crane my neck, taking in his bulging pecs, tight abs, and a huge trunk of a cock swinging between his legs. A moan catches in my throat and travels down to my exposed pussy. What the fuck am I doing? I’m trapped within the cavity of a carnivorous tree, who’s just fed on my parents-in-law, and has fashioned a body made of wood.

I’m in the worst trouble of my life, yet I still have time to admire his impressive dick. “You find my appearance pleasing,” the mannequin says. “It’s perfection,” I reply between trembling breaths. “But I don’t understand.” “Your blood has changed me irreparably.” “How?” “I enjoyed killing those people.” “So?” “I have never enjoyed a thing in my entire existence.”

A warm palm lands on my ass cheeks and runs a slow circle over my flesh. He doesn’t feel entirely like wood. It’s like he’s covered in a thin layer of leather that’s as pliable as human skin but it’s a little rougher with gentle callouses. My breath catches, and a shiver runs down my spine. The mannequin chuckles. “You have been a very naughty girl.” “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice breathy. “You will be.” He gives my ass cheek a gentle squeeze. I bite down on my bottom lip, hoping this punishment will be pleasurable. His fingers slide down the crease of my ass and circle my pucker. My asshole clenches, and I inhale a sharp gasp. Will he slide his finger inside? I tilt my hips, trying to give him a hint of what I want, but the finger slides back up my tailbone.

The mannequin walks around into my line of sight. His cock is already fully erect and lifelike, with thick veins running along its shaft and a bulbous head that could stretch me beyond reason. I gulp, my gaze flicking from his glowing eyes to the bead of pearlescent liquid balancing on its slit. “Figging is a form of punishment where a piece of ginger is inserted into the anus.” He holds out a root about half as thick as his cock. “Does it hurt?” I whisper. “There’s a burning sensation, but the moment will pass.”

Once the plug of ginger is all the way in, he rubs a gentle circle on my ass cheek. Warmth radiates from the root, making me sigh. “Do you like it?” he asks “Surprisingly, I do.” “Do you know why you’re being punished?” “Ummm... for letting you get shot?” “And?” he growls. My nipples tighten. “And for making you feel pain?” He leans into me, his lips brushing my ear. “And for making me feel emotions,” he snarls. “Did you do it on purpose?” “What are you talking about?” “I can’t kill you, no matter how delicious you are. All I want to do is keep you pleasured and safe.”

“Then why am I tied up with a ginger root up my ass?” He raises a hand and rubs circles on my behind. “Because you enjoy being spanked. Now, be a good girl and count them!” His arm swings through the air and lands on my ass cheeks with a sting. Pain radiates across my flesh, and I clench my muscles. My rectum closes around the ginger root, triggering a burst of heat. My back arches. “Oh fuck. That feels so good.” “Count them,” he growls. “One.” The second slap lands on my left cheek, delivering a delicious sting that travels straight to my clit. My arousal surges along with the sensation, and I lift my hips off the platform, my muscles trembling with anticipation. “Two.”

Each spank delivers a fresh wave of pleasure that intensifies until I’m so lost in sensations that I’m begging for more. Heat surges in my ass from the ginger root, which my brain registers as flames of ecstasy. I’m sweating, panting, and twitching for his touch. My nipples are so tight that they hurt. The muscles of my pussy clench and release, desperate for that wooden cock. Liquid flows freely down my thighs. I can’t tell if it’s perspiration, my period, my arousal, or the remnants of the oil, but I’m so desperate to orgasm that I don’t care. “Eight,” I cry out. “P-please fuck me.” “You haven’t earned it yet,” he says and delivers a...

“If I had known you would produce so much sap, I would have spanked you earlier.” “Fuck,” I moan. “One final spank a...

Not when he’s delaying my pleasure. I raise my hips, desperate for that final spank so I can get some satisfaction. Then he’ll stretch me open with that huge, wooden dildo. “Please,” I whisper. “I need you.”

His hand comes down hard on my ass, sending waves of pain that my body interprets as pleasure. My rectum clenches around the ginger root, infusing me with the most intense warmth. These conflicting sensations are too much, and my clit swells to the point of pain. I arch, my lips parting with a scream. An orgasm builds in my core, needing just the smallest touch to push me over the edge. “Good girl,” the mannequin rumbles. “You took that spanking exceedingly well.” “Th-thank you.” “Now, you may have your reward.” “Please,” I say with a moan.

The thought of the tree soaking up my fluids makes my clit swell. His finger circles my clit. I’m so sensitive that I can feel each grain of the wood as though they’re raised fingertips. I’m still flushed from the ginger and so close to climaxing that sweat breaks out across my skin and my breath comes in shallow pants. I need more speed and more pressure. Most of all I need that thick, mannequin cock. “You must have enjoyed that spanking,” the mannequin says. “I have never seen you produce so much sap.” “P-please,” I whisper. “Just fuck me.” “Like this?” He slides the wooden cock up and down my exposed sex, making sure to linger on my clit. I buck my hips and bite down on my bottom lip, but it only makes me more aroused. “Yes,” I say through clenched teeth. “Just like that.” The mannequin lines up the blunt tip of his cock at my entrance and grabs hold of my hip with a large hand. I push back, needing that penetration, but he gives me a tight squeeze. “Wait for it,” he growls.

The mannequin pushes in slowly, inch by delicious inch, stretching my entrance until I moan. He’s already thicker than Erik, who until recently was my best-endowed lover. Annoyance prickles my skin at the thought of that conniving bastard. I clench around the ginger root for a distraction, and a burst of heat burns away all thoughts of my husband. “Squeeze my cock again.” The mannequin makes shallow thrusts, filling me with tiny jolts of pleasure.

I clamp my muscles around the cock, triggering a fresh burst of heat that makes us both moan. “Is the ginger root too much?” he asks. “It’s alright,” I say through panting breaths. “I can take it.” “That’s my girl.” He rolls his hips, making his movements more fluid. I’m so slick and sensitive that the woodgrain bulging through his leather skin feels like a ribbed condom. I moan, my head lolling to the side, my muscles tensing in anticipation of that sweet release. The mannequin picks up speed, entering me to the hilt and pressing hard against my cervix. The wood inside me expands at the tip to create a V shape that’s wider at the tip and pushes against my walls. “What are you doing?” I whisper.

“Filling you,” he growls. “Your cunt is a work of art and I want to see how far it expands.” My heart flutters. “Oh.” Reverberations emanate from the cock as it widens and stretches my pussy until it feels like I’ll split into segments like an orange. I’ve never experienced anything as intense as this, not even when Erik and I experimented with dildos. I cry out as the wood presses down on my surrounding organs. Warmth flares from the ginger in my ass, filling my insides with liquid heat. My clit is so engorged with sensation that it feels twice its usual size, and my bladder feels so full that it’s about to burst. “W-wait,” I say between ga...

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...

The mannequin holds my hips in place as my core quivers with the stirrings of an orgasm. All the oil has drained away from my poor asshole, leaving it feeling like it’s hosting the second circle of hell. I can’t take it anymore.

I need that climax. Right now before I self-combust. “Please,” I cry out. “Tell me what you want,” the mannequin says. “I need... I need to cum!” The mannequin spreads open my asscheeks, pulls out the ginger, and replaces it with his finger. The spicy butt plug lands on the ground with a dull thud. Warm water seeps into my anus, massaging its walls and releasing the intensity of the heat. My ass clenches. Did he just turn his finger into a fuel nozzle? “I’m going to pull out my finger, and you will hold this fluid in your ass like a good girl,” the mannequin says. “Can you do that for me?” “Y-yes.” “Don’t spill a drop.” I give him a shaky nod.