CONTENT NOTE: Mind control, bondage, “horror” theme
This is another “tag combination” writing prompt. The tags formed the phrase “Helpless Cop Forest” and I couldn’t resist coming up with a way to make that into a single thing, not just three themes to interlink.
“Helpless Cop Forest”
Police Sergeant Pauline Perk put out her hand.
“Stop the car! I heard something.”
PC Connor Arnold slammed on the brakes. The tyres squealed on the deserted road. It was a mile or so through the forest back to town, and home base.
“You sure, Sarge?”
“I thought I heard a scream for help.”
“Foxes, most likely, Sarge. You’ll get used to them around here.”
“No, I heard the word, ‘Help’, I’m sure of it. Listen, you don’t mind staying here a few minutes while I check it out?”
“It’s your call, Sarge. I wouldn’t bother if I were you, but go ahead. Not like there’s any emergency back at the station.”
“If I do find something, I’ll radio, ‘kay?”
“You’re the boss, Sarge.” He was putting his feet up and reaching for the trashy thriller he always kept in the glove compartment for when patrol got boring, as it often did round here. Perk had admonished him about it a couple of times early on but she had to agree, there wasn’t much crime in this quiet backwater of rural England.
As she ducked into the undergrowth, she heard the cry for help again – more of a call, really. There wasn’t the sense of panic she’d initially sensed. Something seemed familiar about the voice, but she couldn’t place it. Instead, she turned to get her bearings on the direction it came from, and strode confidently over the ferns and fallen twigs.
The voice again. Clearly now, “Can anyone hear me?” Again, it sounded so familiar. Perk racked her brain for why. Who could it be? She plunged on, deeper into the forest, towards the sound. The surroundings seemed darker, the undergrowth thicker and more tangled, the trees more twisted and gnarled. And something was missing. It occurred to her that she’d been walking long enough now that she ought to have come to another road. There was no distant sound of traffic at all. Yes, the road she’d been on had been quiet, but the main road through town went fairly near here and that had regular traffic at all times of day.
She clicked her transmitter. “Connor, mate. How you doing?” She listened, but there was nothing. Not even static. She turned slowly on the spot, trying to work out which way to go. She aimed in what she thought was the direction she’d come from and set out again. The forest felt more dense, heavier, dulling even the sound of her footsteps. Doubt filled her mind. Maybe someone else was lost here. Somehow, she seemed to be lost, too.
“Can anyone hear me?”
A strange chill crept over her. The familiar voice. It was her own. The call she’d heard had been exactly the inflection, the rhythm, the sound, she’d just made. How was that possible? She spun on the spot. She started to run. It didn’t matter which direction – she just needed to find a road, and then she would know where she was, everything would be normal again.
Her foot caught on something – or rather, something caught her ankle. She sprawled on her face, arms flung out to catch the fall, sinking into soft dirt and mulch on the forest floor. She rolled onto her back and sat up to find what had caught her, but only more incredulity and confusion followed.
Ivy vines were actively coiling themselves around her legs, binding them together and dragging her deeper into the undergrowth towards a thicket of trees. Instinctively, she put her hands to the ground behind her to keep her balance, only to find more vines wrapped themselves around her wrists and bound them together.
The vines stopped so that Perk’s back was against a tree, the vines on her wrists pulling her close to it. She struggled, but couldn’t do anything.
“I need help! Can someone help, please?” Again, the exact words and tones of the second call for help she’d heard. It was impossible. She couldn’t have been answering her own cries for help. That had been in the past, and this was now. More struggling produced no useful outcome. Perk was helpless, tied in the forest by what seemed to be animated woodland plants with a sense of purpose.
She tried again, screaming at the top of her lungs: “HELP!” The feeling that this, too, was the cry that had first caught her attention in the car was an uncomfortable nagging suspicion in the back of her mind, while her rational brain tried to dismiss the possibility.
The sound of rustling undergrowth and footsteps growing nearer. Perk didn’t dare call out again, just in case it was somehow herself yet again. She told herself she was mad for even considering the idea, but still, her voice died in her throat when she opened her mouth.
It wasn’t Pauline Perk approaching. At first, she thought it was a woman but it moved swiftly between the trees until to her horror she could make out feline facial features on the bipedal figure. It was mottled, brown and green and black, almost like the forest itself had taken a form. And it sported a penis as well as prominent breasts. Before she could speak, the figure reached Pauline’s side and crouched down. She could smell its breath, earthy and floral at once. It seemed to fog Pauline’s mind.
“You should not have come here, warden of Order”
“You ssshould not have come herrre, warrrden of Orrrder,” the creature purred.
“Who are you?” Pauline somehow kept herself from stammering.
“I am the faerie spirit of these woods, of Chaos and Wildness. And you left the path and stumbled from your world to mine. Because you followed your desires.”
“I heard a call for help. It’s my duty to assist.”
“You wanted a call for help. And now you are helpless, by your own call.”
Pauline shook her head. “It’s impossible.”
The wood nymph nodded. “That is what makes it my realm. Only the mind of Order rejects what is true because it cannot be true. Chaos makes the impossible into truth.” Sie reached out and brushed Pauline’s cheek with hir paw.
Pauline squirmed. The heady scent of the creature, its brazen nakedness, the atmosphere itself in this forest, seemed to be dissolving her ability to think, leading her away from her mind and into a more primal state. The creature breathed and strange lichen spores seemed to start eating away Pauline’s uniform.
“No, no. That can’t happen, it can’t,” Pauline’s voice shook, seeing more and more of her bare skin exposed by the rank, verdant magic. But it happened anyway, every scrap of clothing falling away to be consumed by the forest floor, only smears of mulchy dirt streaking her body.
Pauline knew she should feel shame, but when she inhaled, she couldn’t remember how. The nymph straddled her hips and she knew she should resist, but she didn’t want to. The part of her that would always be a police officer told her this was wrong, but a deeper, unrestrained urgency refused to listen. She was helpless not only in the vines, but in her own mind, intoxicated and ensorcelled by the pheromones of a primeval spirit. Now when she squirmed, she knew it was not to escape but to lift her hips to that woody, juicy, lush cock between the nymph’s legs.
But she was as helpless to receive it as she had been to escape it. The nymph kissed her lips, feline tongue flicking over them as their faces met. Sie fondled Pauline’s breasts and Pauline wished for it to stop – but the stronger wish was so sie would do more, not that sie should free her.
“Please…” Pauline whimpered.
“Give up your doubts. Give up your love of Order. Become part of my forest, warrrden.”
She formed the thought. She clung to it. Helpless, she made it real. The thought, “I want this.” And as soon as she did so, she felt the nymph’s cock push into her. Less a thrust than a sway, like trees blowing in the wind might do, rocking back and forth with the same force, the same speed, but the heat of a bestial, lusty, wild fuck that left no room for the rational, for the ordered, for doubts. A fuck that made Pauline helpless with desire and need.
She felt her orgasm build like the low heat of a compost heap and deep throbbing of her own heart, something deep in the pit of her core. It swelled, bloomed, blossomed. She groaned like the sound of a tree toppling as she tumbled into ecstasy, her fingers clawing into the earth. So deep, so ecstatic, her fingers rooted to the earth, binding with it. The nymph seemed not to notice, riding Pauline on and on. The vines on Pauline’s legs fell away and she spread her knees wide, feet planted to the floor. Planted, literally, her toes forming roots just like her hands. And in that moment, the nymph cried out, like the bark of a vixen. Pauline felt its seed implanted in her.
She could hear new voices, now. Voices like her own but in other languages. The voices of the trees. Trees who had once been officers of the Law, across all centuries and lands, led into Faerie by a cry for help…