The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Spruce Juice

It’s going to be a short story, sorry. I mean, just how much extra crap can you throw into the typical “boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets fucked over by a woodland fairy?” I know you’re thinking that, if it’s that simple, why don’t I just stop talking? But fuck it, I’m paying you, doctor, so you’ll listen to me. Yeah, I see you making those notes in your little pad. Something like: “Swears and sees fairies.”

“No, no, Mr. Baker. I’m listening without making any judgements.”

Fuck you I don’t believe you. But here’s my story. Went to Maine. Fucking colder than hell. Went there with Alyssa. The bitch. We get up to the cabin and the first thing she says after we’ve stowed everything away is, “Baby, I think we should take some time off.”

“Time off?” I say, “But we just got to this secluded cabin! How are we going to take some time off?”

“Well, David,” she replies, “My mom’s coming to pick me up in an hour or so. You’ll have the cabin to yourself.”

“Mr. Baker, could you clarify something for me? Who’s cabin is this?”

It’s Alyssa’s family’s cabin. They live about three hours away, closer to Bangor. The drive’s gorgeous, Doc, and the cabin’s in really good shape. She and I would go there every fall and I’d do some hunting. She wanted to go out for Spring Break, I thought, because Boston was just getting to the both of us. I mean, the dirt and grime and shit. I was as ready as she was to get some fresh air.

So, anyways, I’m so dumbfounded I can’t even say anything to her. Her mom comes, gives me a hug, then they’re both out the door and gone.

“Pick me up at mom’s?” she asks as she leaves.

“Yeah, sure,” I say. I can’t think of anything else to say. I mean, what was I supposed to say, “Forget it, Alyssa. We’re through?” No, I mean, she’s a bitch but back then I still thought I loved her.

Anyways, I get a fire going and make sure there was enough dry wood stacked on the porch to last the next four days. Then I make myself some dinner. Scrambled eggs and toast and a hot dog. I spend the night feeling sorry for myself.

The next day I get out the snowshoes and go for a walk. Well, more like a stumble. That snow is like powder and even with the shoes I sink a little and have a hard time remembering to lift my feet high.

Trek down to the pond and back. Hot cocoa when I get back and then take a nap. There’s nothing to do. I hadn’t brought anything for hunting cuz I had thought I’d be spending the time screwing, you know? Instead I’m bored as hell.

The day after that I go for another walk. Away from the pond and into the spruce.

It was second or third growth, so short but pretty thick and pretty dark underneath. With those regular rows that let you know it’ll be cut down in another few years. I just keep walking. I have nowhere to go and nothing to go back to and the rows are so regular it’s hard to tell how far I’d gone. I’m not tired. I’m not anything. It was the wierdest thing, doc. I’d never felt anything like it before. You know what I’m talking about, doc?

“You mean, you were sort of... empty? And simply there rather than thinking about what you were doing?”

Yeah, sorta like that. Like the world is huge and I’m just in it and that’s okay. I’m not even thinking about Alyssa. It’s so quiet and dark. But it’s not too cold. I’m warm from the excercise. Fuck it, I can’t explain it. Anyway, you’re probably ready to hear about the fairy. She’s sitting in one of the spruces. I wouldn’t have even seen her if she hadn’t said something.

“What did she say?”

I don’t know. I don’t think it’s English, man. It’s just a wierd girly voice in the woods. She’s sitting up in a tree, wearing nothing, looking down at me and smiling.

I say, “Uh, are you okay?” And she giggles. It’s a cute giggle. She’s a cute girl. She doesn’t look very old. Her hair is long and kind of scraggly, with leaves in it. Dark brownish-gray... it matches the tree. Her eyes are blue, so light they’re almost white, like how the sky looks at noon, translucent. Her skin is pale, like she’s never seen the sun. The way the shadows play on her I can hardly tell she’s there.

She says, “Who are you?” in this funny accent. It isn’t the Maine accent, though that sounds funny enough. But it’s kinda... I dunno. Watery or something.

“I’m David.”

“What are you doing here, David?”

“I’m just walking. What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“Where?”

“In the tree.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” I ask. Because now I’m sure she’s crazy and about to get hypothermia.

“I’m fine. But lonely. Why don’t you come up here?”

“Into the tree?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think I could climb it,” I say. I look at the tree and realize it’s not like the other spruces. It’s older, gnarlier. Might be leftover from when they cleared the old growth. She giggles at me again and I blink and I’m in the tree with her.

‘What the fuck?” I say, then, “uh, sorry.” But she just giggles at me and leans into me. We’re sitting on a wide branch. The bark is rough and I have a hard time holding on to it. The ground seems really far away. Then she kisses me on the cheek! She fucking kisses me! I’m totally freaking out.

“Maybe you could, uh, just put me back on the ground?”

She shakes her head and leans in like she’s going to kiss me again. I lean away from her, kinda scoot along, ‘til my back’s against the tree’s trunk. I’m thinking, ‘What the fuck? Who is this psycho bitch and why isn’t she wearing any clothes and how did I get up here and how do I get down?’ You know, it’s just a big jumble of panicky thoughts. She scoots closer and purses her lips.

“Hey, lady, you’re pretty and all but I don’t know you,” I say, my voice kinda shaky. This time when she giggles it really scares me.

“You’re cute,” she says, “I want to mate with you.”

“What?”

“Yes, let’s mate. I may not have the chance again.”

‘That’s cuz you’re naked in the winter in Maine,’ I think to myself, but I don’t say anything. She leans closer and she smells really good. Like the tree only sweeter, more girly. It kinda turns me on. It makes me feel, like, passive or something. Like I can’t move or don’t want to anymore. I let her kiss me. In my head I’m thinking, ‘Sorry Alyssa, but you’re not here and she is and she’s naked and smells really good.’

“What kind of perfume are you wearing?” I ask in a rough voice when she breaks the kiss. She just giggles and reaches for my left hand and peels off the glove. Then she puts my hand on her right breast. It’s cool but not as cold as I expect. The nipple is hard and just feeling it under my palm makes me want to lick and suck on it and heat it up for her. I raise my right hand and she takes the glove off of it before I get it to her other breast.

So there I am, kneading the breasts of a girl who looks like she could be fucking fifteen or something. My cock’s getting hard and my breath’s coming faster. She’s just smiling at me, busy smelling good, I guess. I can’t think of anything but her. I want to hear her giggle again.

Or moan. Yeah, I want to make her moan when I fuck her. Her eyes are half-closed as I fondle her, her weight’s leaning against my hands. I lean forward to kiss her. He lips taste sweet and kind of tangy, like the way a spruce smells—fresh. You know?

Anyways, she’s getting busy with her own hands, unzipping my jacket, unsnapping my snowpants and then fishing my cock out of my boxers and longjohns. I feel kinda, I don’t know. Cold and kinda embarassed. Like I didn’t dress up enough for this. I mean, the longjohns are fucking ten years old and they’ve got holes in them and they’re a really ugly blue color.

I start to apologise but she shuts me up with another kiss. This time there’s tongue. I can taste the scent of her transferring itself to me, sliding down my throat when I swallow. It almost makes me ill. I mean, it’s nice to smell but, like, who eats fucking trees, you know? But I can’t stop the kiss. She’s in control of everything. I can’t even stop my hands from caressing her breasts, squeezing them together to get that cleavage thing then mashing them against her ribs. I never played with Alyssa’s breasts like that.

When we come up for air again she says, “Wouldn’t you like to mate?”

“Fuck yeah,” I gasp. She giggles and half of me cringes and half of me is happy I can make her giggle like that. She tugs at my left leg to get me to straddle the limb, then she slides up and straddles me, my hands glued to her breasts the whole time.

She raises herself up then, as she lowers herself, I can feel myself slipping into her. I’m so fucking hard and horny I nearly lose it there. But she holds still after she’s got me all the way in and she says, “Wait ‘til I tell you,” this michevious grin on her face like she knows I’d blow my wad any fucking second. I’m not sure I can wait, unless she’s planning on saying “when” the moment she slides herself up again.

But when she starts moving again I find it’s not so bad. I can stand it. The pleasure is incredible, better than anything I ever felt with Alyssa. The girl’s pussy is tight. Fucking tight, Doc. And fucking wet, too. The best combo, right? I feel a little bit of cold air when she slides up, but she’s so hot when she slides back down that there’s not enough time for me to feel uncomfortable.

The whole time she’s riding me my hands are still busy with her breasts, pinching her nipples and massaging her flesh. It’s almost entrancing, watching my hands like they don’t even belong to me. Sounds are coming out of me but I feel so far away from them. I feel like I’m in my cock and everything else is part of her. I don’t know how to explain it. Fuck it.

Anyways. You should have heard her when she came. Wailed like a fucking banshee. I could feel her cunt contract around me and that same smell comes up from her crotch. I almost retch. At the same time I want to lap it all up for her. Like it’s too precious to waste on my crappy longjohns.

She leans against me, gasping. My hands still can’t stop. I turn my head and rest my cheek on the top of her head. She hasn’t told me to cum yet, so I’m still rock hard in her quivering pussy. I can feel her breathing massaging the head of my cock, even. It’s really wierd.

Finally she starts going again. This time it’s slower, more rythmic. I start getting into it, pushing back as hard as I can, considering the wierd angle I’m in and being afraid of falling. She’s moaning but she’s still got that big grin on her face. I start to think of it as less cute than maniacal. It gives me chills.

I close my eyes and concentrate on the sensations coming from my cock and on that scent. I breath it in so deep, my lungs are full of it. For a moment it feels like I’m in the tree. In the tree and the sap is rising all around me. I’m small enough to fit between the wood fibers and big enough to feel the tips of the roots and the needles at the same time. My arms and legs are tree limbs, my head... I don’t even have a head. Don’t need one.

“Now,” she whispers in my ear. I come. It’s the best fucking orgasm I’ve ever had. And she’s riding one of her own, wailing like I’m killing her. Even our contractions are timed, her pussy feels like it’s crushing me every time my cock jerks and ejects another round of sperm. She sucks it all in. I smell that evergreen smell again and this time it’s so strong I pass out.

When I wake up I’m still in the tree, this time I’m on my back, stretched out on the limb. I think maybe I should worry about falling but my brain is so foggy all I can manage is a groan. I feel her fingers stroking my brow and I tilt my head up to look at her. Her upside-down face is charming. So feminine and young.

“How old are you?”

“Eight hundred Rings,” she says, then giggles.

“You’re a fairy,” I say. She shrugs and says something I can’t understand. Like trees rustling and water. I fall asleep again.

I’m not surprised to find myself in the cabin when I wake up again. The fire’s going, there’s even a hot meal at the table. I realize I’m starving and I sit up to get out of bed.

Her smell overwhelms me when I throw back the covers. I have to sit back down for a moment and breath it in. It’s coming from my crotch. I wipe my fingers over my soft cock and raise them to my nose. Definitely from her. Definitely the same smell. I lick my fingers, then keep repeating the process until I can’t taste her anymore.

Doc, I know you think that’s gross. I think it is, too. But I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to taste it.

The next day I wake up early and pack everything up. Then I put the snowshoes on and hike back into the spruces. I can’t find her tree. I’m out there so long the darkness in that forest is even darker. I give up and head back, worrying that I won’t be able to find my way. But I do. I put the shoes away and get into the car, drive off to get Alyssa.

She broke up with me that weekend, doc. She moved out. Said I wasn’t good enough for her—swore too much, always left the seat up, never helped her with the doors and shit. Fuck her. I don’t need her. I go to sleep every night thinking about that fairy.

“Technically, Mr. Baker, I think the being you’re referring to is called a nymph. She was a wood nymph.”

Whatever. Look, I’m trying to tell you that I can’t get her out of my mind. I bought myself a potted evergeen. It’s not a spruce but the smell’s almost right. Fuck. I’m telling you, I’m about to get back in the car and drive up there and go look for her again.

I need you to either tell me I’m not crazy or help me figure out how to get my life back. I don’t care about Alyssa. But I want to be able to focus in school and at work. I want to stop staring at junior high girls and sniffing at any woman that walks by. I either need to go find her or forget her. What should I do?

“First, I don’t think you’re crazy; we’ll help you get your life back . We should set up another appointment for you. We need to understand what underlies this odd hallucination. In the meantime, I suggest you return to the forest and look for that old tree. Revisiting the site may help you put aside that false memory and bring up whatever trauma may have happened there.”

You think it’s a hallucination, huh? Yeah, maybe. I’m kinda scared about going back, even though that’s what I want to do.

“You seem like a pretty strong-willed young man.”

Yeah? Yeah. Fuck yeah! You’re right. I’m going back there.