My Field Work (Part 3)

I had thought that my last bulletin on the subject of the trees would be the final word on the subject. But since then, there have been dramatic and disturbing developments, and we feel that the public needs to be informed.

Gail and I had been continuing our research into the mysterious trees, examining the seeds, sap and various tissues that they were composed of, and at the same time, our personal relationship had deepened and intensified. The truth was, we were very much in love, and spent each night together, exploring the possibilities of our bodies in ways that we had hardly ever thought possible.

We had been together for about three months when I started to notice a peculiar change in our physical relationship. More and more, we seemed to be exploring and revelling in anal sex, to the exclusion of vaginal or oral sex, and each of us seemed intent on finding pleasure in either our own or the other’s anus, rather than any other parts of our bodies. I mentioned this to Gail one night, as we lay in bed together.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that too,” she said softly. “It’s like our sexuality is concentrating itself there, and nowhere else. You know, sometimes, when I’m walking down the street, I suddenly have these fantasies –“

She broke off, but I knew what she was about to say. “Go on,” I said. Gail went on in a halting tone, clearly embarrassed.

“I…I have these fantasies of being held down and raped up my ass, or fisted…they’re so strong, I get dizzy, I have to find a toilet and make myself cum. It’s so weird. It’s like I can’t control myself.”

“I have them too,” I said quietly. Gail looked at me, her eyes shining in the darkness.

“Do you? Do you think it’s anything to do with…”

She trailed off, but I knew what she meant. She was wondering if the tree that had raped each of us had permanently altered our body chemistry in some way; perhaps it was affecting us in the sex centers of our brains. The thought chilled me, and I knew it chilled her. I pulled her soft, naked body to mine and we hugged.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. She was trembling, but warm against me, and soon we were starting to make love. It climaxed with us each inserting lubed fingers in each other’s asses, and we both came luxuriously before falling asleep in each others’ arms.

But the very next day, our worst fears began to be confirmed. It started in the morning.

I had gone to the gym for my regular Saturday workout, and afterwards I was changing out of my sports gear and heading for the showers. I stripped naked and walked from my bench to the shower area. I was on the slight side, pale and slender, and although I had been naked around the changing rooms many times before, this time I was acutely, almost hypersensitively aware of every glance that was turned in my direction. Never before had I felt so on display, so much a potential object of desire.

I stepped into the long, communal shower stall and sighed as the hot water streamed over my naked body. I soaped myself all over. At the other end, another man, tall and muscular with a mop of brown hair, entered the shower.

And almost straight away, I got an almost painfully stiff hard-on. I couldn’t believe it. The presence of another naked man, more than fifteen feet away, was the most powerfully erotic thing I had ever known. I started to breathe rapidly, and my sight went blurry. All I wanted was for him to come over, grab me, and take me brutally on the tiled floor of the shower. I had just enough presence of mind to turn away from him and hide my erection.

I shook my head, and tried to think of something unsexy, like my leaking roof, or my car insurance. The fog of lust was clouding my brain. Then, all of a sudden, I felt a hand touch my shoulder, and a low, deep voice whispered thickly in my ear:

“You have the cutest fucking ass I have ever seen.”

Oh God, I thought. My heart was pounding. Could anyone hear us? Was anyone going to come in? But I couldn’t stop myself from whispering in return:

“Thank you.”

Another hand touched my bare, wet thigh, reaching around me, and shamelessly stroking my swollen cock. I shuddered. I could feel the tall, warm, wet presence of this naked man standing directly behind me, touching me only with his fingertips.

“Have you ever been fucked in your ass?” he muttered in my ear.

“Yes,” I whispered, which was technically true – although it had not been by another man.

“I would love to fuck your ass right now,” he whispered, in a strange, thick voice. “I would love to split your ass with my cock and ride you until you squealed. I’ve never fucked a guy in my life but I would love to take my cock and put it right up inside your ass until you begged for mercy. Would you like that?”

“Oh Jesus yes,” I whimpered. My cock was straining as his fingers stroked me. Every nerve in my body was dying for him to take me, take me, use me, use my ass.

“Would you be my bitch?” he gasped, as his fingers closed around the shaft of my cock and began to pull on it.

“Oh please yes,” I moaned. His right hand clamped over my face and eyes, and his left hand hauled on my cock as he pulled me against him. The sudden contact of his strong, wet, naked body against mine made stars boil up in my eyes and I gasped loudly – and then, even as he was trying to urge his cock up between my ass cheeks, I came in violent gushes over the tiled wall, my cum jerking out in spurts that flowed over his fist and splashed onto the floor.

Instantly, the spell was broken. The desire had gone. I was panting for breath, but I was horror-struck. I could feel him freezing, his fingers springing away from my cock, his hand coming away from my face, and he leapt back. I stumbled slightly on tottering legs.

I was crimson with embarrassment. I forced myself to turn around and glance at him – and I was only slightly relieved to see that he seemed even more embarrassed. He was almost doubled over with mortification. We both frantically avoided each other’s gaze.

“…Oh man…” he stammered, “I…I’m really…I dunno what…”

“No, no,” I said hastily, “it’s cool, um, it’s cool, I really, I think maybe, the air in here or something…”

“Yes!” he said, nodding vigorously. “Probably something in the, in the vent or something...I, uh, I…I wouldn’t want you to think I…”

“Oh no no no no no,” I gabbled, trying to shrug it off.

“Not that I have anything against, uh…” he said, backing away from me. “I mean, whatever people wanna do…but I’m not personally…”

“Oh me neither, but yeah, I mean, yeah, don’t worry about it,” I said, with a ghastly smile, as I reached for the soap and went back to cleaning myself off. A grateful expression flitted over his face, then he turned back to his own shower.

When I’d finished cleaning myself, I got dressed and headed into work, still dazed by whatever had happened in the shower room. Two heterosexual men had suddenly been transported to the psychic space of a 70s bathhouse; how had that happened? How had it affected him as well as me?

When I got to the university, I parked my car and went up into the Biology building. It was a Saturday, and most of the undergraduates had gone home or were still in bed, recovering from the Friday night drinking session. I went straight to the office that Gail and I shared, and I was leafing through some papers when I heard the door open behind me and a sneering, unpleasant voice say “Ah, the tree expert. So how’s Swamp Thing?”

Oh God, I thought, it’s Matthew.

Matthew C. was a youngish Assistant Professor who almost nobody on the campus liked, apart from a continually shifting population of impressionable girl students who admired his (admittedly considerable) erudition, and worshipped his broad shoulders and mane of golden hair. He was tall, handsome, vain, extremely well-read, and with a total lack of talent for original research. He knew everything about the history of his subject, and was completely incapable of contributing anything new to it. He was also extremely cruel, a user of women, serially unfaithful and thoroughly obnoxious to all his colleagues. The only reason he still kept his job is because people like him have a limpet-like ability to cling to their positions.

“So what’s the skinny on the creature from the black lagoon?” he asked, sauntering into the office.

“We’re still working on it, Matthew,” I said wearily. He inspected the shelf of jars, containing samples of bark and sap.

“Any idea what decade you’ll be publishing the report in?” he sneered. That was a laugh, coming from the guy who never published more than the occasional supplement to somebody else’s critical edition of someone nobody read any more.

“I’m actually busy,” I said. “We have a lot of work to do. Gail is coming in later.”

“Ah yes, Gail,” he mused, picking up a jar and holding it up to the light. “So the nerds finally got together. What a beautiful story. Look at me, I’m welling up.”

“Piss off, Matthew,” I said. “Go and find a fresher to chat up.” Matthew opened the lid of the jar and sniffed the contents.

“Ew,” he said, his nose wrinkling. “Does this smell off to you?” He held it out. I sighed, went over and sniffed it myself. It smelt faintly musty.

“Not more than normal,” I said. “It seems to decay faster than –“

FOOOOFFF!!! Suddenly, the piece of bark in the jar popped loudly into a cloud of white dust, which billowed out of the jar and around our heads. We sneezed. The dust prickled on our skin and smelled sweet. When it cleared I blinked it out of my eyes and looked up at Matthew.

He was looking at me in a strangely intense way. He placed the jar on the desk, absently. I had only ever seen that look on his face before in crowded bars, when he had spotted some new girl he wanted to deflower.

“What is it?” I said sharply. “Are you all right?”

But then, a familiar feeling was building up in my crotch, and spreading throughout my body. I felt a warm, melting sweetness flow through me. At the same time, I was fully conscious, and I was starting to get afraid.

“You know, it’s funny you and me never talk,” he said softly. “I do like you a lot, honest.”

“Thank you,” I said, and was amazed at myself. This man was flirting with me, and I was letting him?? And now Matthew was stepping towards me. His forehead was shining with perspiration. I felt hot inside my t-shirt and cargo pants. He was smiling.

“You really do have a cute face,” he murmured, and he reached out a hand and stroked my cheek. “I’d love to see the rest of you.”

“We can’t,” I gasped, “not here!” But my will was weakening. I wanted Matthew to take me, right here, right now, and I knew he wanted to as well. He stood in front of me, placed his hands behind me on the cheeks of my ass, and pulled my pelvis to his. And once again, I was rock-hard. His eyes widened, and he purred.

“Mmmm,” he said. “We are excitable, aren’t we.”

“Matthew,” I stammered, “this isn’t us, this is the spore, it wants us to do this, we can’t…”

“Oh Andy,” he breathed. “Shut up and go with the flow.” And he fastened his lips onto mine.

I sighed deeply as he kissed me, his hands roving up inside my t-shirt and stripping it over my head. I couldn’t fight it, I wasn’t strong enough – and anyway, right now I didn’t want to fight it, I wanted Matthew to take this where we both wanted it to go. His tongue was pushing into my mouth and his hands were sliding down into the seat of my pants, beneath the waistband of my boxers, caressing my ass, moving around to my groin, touching my cock. My pants were already sliding down over the top of my waist. He broke out of the kiss and stared at me, his eyes foggy, his thick lips wet with our saliva.

“Get your clothes off,” he ordered me. I was dumb with fear and longing. I held his gaze as I hauled off my boots and socks, then dragged my cargo pants down over my hips and finally pulled off my boxer shorts. Now I was naked, and he took in my pale naked body with a ravenous gaze. He pushed me up against the edge of the desk, his hands running all over me, up into my crotch and between my ass cheeks. I was shaking with lust.

“Fucking hell, you are beautiful,” he muttered, and he pulled me to him, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I whimpered in his strong, apelike grip, but I responded to him, my hands fumbling at his fly buttons. Matthew liked to wear old-fashioned tweed suits, and I undid the buttons without difficulty. His long, thick cock sprang free and I looked

at it with awe and longing. It must have been eight inches long, and it was frighteningly thick and swollen. The tip was glistening with pre-cum.

“Oh no,” I breathed, as he ran his strong hands all over me. “Matthew, please don’t, this isn’t us, I swear, we don’t want to do this, please don’t do this…” He was already pulling on my own stiff cock, as he manhandled me to the grubby floor of the office. He pushed me onto my back, and I stared up at him dumbly. His breath was coming in short, sharp gasps, as he sprawled on top of me and kissed me all over my face. I hardly knew what I was doing, and put up only the feeblest resistance as he rolled me onto my belly and parted my legs with his.

“I’m going to fuck you up your ass, Andy,” he rasped, and I heard him spit, and then I felt his slimy fingers forcing themselves between my ass cheeks. I whimpered, helplessly, as he smeared his saliva over the tight pink bud of my asshole, and then he mounted me, his weight crushing my slight body into the floor as he plunged his thick cock between my naked buttocks and forced the tip of it into my anus.

“AAANNHHH!!!” I screamed, as Matthew penetrated me, and my body thrilled at the dark, forbidden pleasure of another man entering me. My cock bulged underneath me, and I shut my eyes tight as the pain of his cock in my ass subsided. I knew all about the girls Matthew had fucked over the years, and there was no longer any doubt in my mind that more than one of those sweet, tender students had been subjected to buggery. He knew what he was doing.

He waited for me to relax a little, and then he heaved his cock another couple of centimetres further in. All I was aware of was the intense, invading force of a man’s cock in my ass, the dull pain of his sheer size in me, the friction of his skin against my most tender, intimate orifice, and the voluptuous pleasure of submission to it. I moaned “Ohhh, please, no, Matthew, please-” and he pushed himself further in, right up into my bowels, taking me just as I had wanted him to – or, at any rate, like the spore within me had wanted him to. I no longer knew what I wanted any more. I no longer knew who I really was.

I groaned with pain and ecstasy, and Matthew urged the last couple of inches of his shaft up into my ass – then he began to fuck me with long, slow, groaning motions, his saliva drooling onto my back, his hands holding me down, his weight leaning on my shoulder blades. “Oh God, yes,” he gasped, “oh, Andy, you fucking slut – yess!” I was face-down beneath him, whimpering, my eyes pricking with tears as he sodomised me, and yet something in me so wanted this – this bastard, someone I disliked more than anyone else in the world, was fucking me up my ass, and I was so aroused I could hardly contain myself.

His strokes increased in speed and force, and I shook with the sheer animal fury of them. I was utterly his victim. My hands scrabbled uselessly on the linoleum, and I was making incoherent sounds of lust, and then I felt him starting to cum in me. His sperm shot into my ass with dizzying force, and my prostate was so stimulated that I came in a quick, hard gush on the floor underneath me. I sobbed with pleasure.

But Matthew hadn’t finished. He was still cumming into me, and I could feel my ass filling up and expanding with the volume of his ejaculate. I moaned, and tried to escape, struggling, but he clamped his thighs around mine with superhuman strength. He was making an odd, strained, choking noise as he continued to cum. I fought underneath him, but he would not pull out. My bowels were starting to ache with the amount of cum being pumped into me. It was like the most intense, humiliating enema imaginable. I knew I couldn’t take much more, and with a last, desperate burst of strength I dragged myself away from him, and his cock pulled out of me with a sucking “SCHLUP!” sound.

Immediately, my bowels relaxed, and I felt the excess cum shooting out of my ass. But Matthew was still going! His cum was splattering all over my buttocks and back in heavy, convulsive spurts, drenching me in sticky white fluid. I crawled out from underneath him, but he kept coming after me, aiming his swollen, pumping cock at me, gushing spurt after spurt of thick white cum over my naked body. I saw that his eyes were glazed and absent, and his mouth was slack. I fought to keep him off me, but like some crazed sex toy, he kept pumping gouts of glutinous cum over my defenceless naked body.

And now I realised, through my fear, that his body seemed to collapsing in on itself within his tweed suit. Whatever had possessed him was using him up, converting him into the urgent need to inseminate me, pouring pints and pints of opaque milky goo over

me, splashing it over my face, my chest, my head, my eyes, my crotch… “MMMBBLLL!” I screamed, and tried to escape, but I slipped and slithered in the pool of cum on the floor, and finally I could only sprawl in the mess as Matthew’s bulky body was consumed into the thick ropes of sticky cum that blanketed and blinded me. He dwindled and vanished as the last splashes of cum splattered over my face, and then I just lay, whimpering, completely obliterated by a thick, heavy, sticky coating of white cum, while whatever was left of Matthew had disappeared, leaving only the empty shell of his clothes…

I must have passed out.

I was brought round by a desperate voice calling “Andy! Andy!” I opened my eyes, but I could see nothing.

Then a damp cloth was wiped over my face, and I looked up, to see the anxious face of Gail hovering over me. She was dressed, but her clothes were covered with white goo from her attempts to revive me. As soon as I recognised her, I started to weep with relief. She took me in her arms, helped me up, and guided me to a shower…

Once I was clean, Gail wrapped me in a towel, and led me back to the lab. The Police were there. I was horrified, but the Superintendent shook my hand gravely and indicated a seat.

“It’s all right, sir,” he said, as I was handed a cup of hot, sweet tea. “We got it all on CCTV.”

Of course – the college security system taped every bloody thing that went on. I flushed with humiliation. But the Superintendent looked more embarrassed than me.

“I think it’s clear,” he said carefully, “that the Professor subjected you to an indecent assault. I don’t know if you want to press charges, but there’s just one problem…it’s to do with habeas corpus…”

I looked from him to Gail. For the first time, I noticed that Gail looked unusually drawn and tired. She managed a crooked smile, held out her fist, and opened it.

Lying in her palm was a tiny, shrivelled manikin, no bigger than a peanut. I peered at it. It was like a minute carved figure of Matthew, complete with microscopic erect cock. I looked at it, and the first thing that came into my mind was: Damn, it looks just like some sort of seed…

“We found it in his clothes,” said Gail, deadpan. In her eyes, I thought I saw a faint twinkle of something. The Superintendent scratched his head.

“Can somebody tell me exactly what’s been goin’ on here?” he asked. I opened my mouth, but then Gail spoke:

“I think you need to hear my story first,” she said, and then she glanced at me – and then, she blushed to the roots of her hair…

To be continued…if anybody really wants it to be…I have some ideas, but suggestions are always welcome…