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Forecasted heavy rain had caused Ember to postpone his camping trip by a week, but by a stroke of luck the weathermen were incorrect. The clouds were sparse, the sun was out, and the pre-rain heaviness that had lingered earlier in the week had dissolved, allowing Ember to camp according to schedule. Apparently many others had postponed their trips, because when Ember arrived at the Lake Park campsite with a heavy hiking pack, it was deserted. He hadn't seen a single person on the trail when the campground was usually bustling this time of year. Having the place to himself was a rare opportunity.

Ember shrugged off his hiking bag at the far edge of the clearing, where the open area faded into sparse forest and gave way to thicker trees toward the edge of the mountain. He unpacked his tent--a small thing that he planned only to sleep in--and set it up. From his backpack he retrieved and double-checked his supplies, took inventory, and removed a small cooler that probably wasn't entirely bear-proof, but would hopefully dissuade ferals. It contained whatever food that should last him the weekend, while his water was attached to the sides of his pack for easier access.

After a snack and a drink of water, Ember glanced skyward and decided he had enough hours left in the day for a hike. He emptied his pack, save for a few supplies--water, compass, park map, trail mix--and headed down one of the main trails.

With the park deserted, the hike was magical. The animals were out in greater quantities than Ember had ever seen. The volume and variety of birdsong was incredible, and several times he saw an animal weaving through the trees or scurrying amid the branches. A feral stoat darted across the path in front of him, and off to the side, a feral fox crouched behind a bush and examined him.

A quarter mile in, the trail intersected an animal path fresh with the hoofprints of feral deer. Ember paused near it, checked the time, and decided he'd hike along it for a while. The path took him farther up the mountain, through old growth forest that inexplicably thinned into a small clearing. It was a movie-like scene; the sun filtered through the branches and dappled the grass blanket below. Short wildflowers dotted the grass, which came up just under Ember's knees. In the very center of the clearing, which tree branches did not cover and instead left a pool of light, lay a felled, long-dead tree. The bark was ivory, and Ember ran his fingertips over its unnaturally smooth, almost polished surface. No splinter caught his skin. It felt like the cured wood of a banister, but there was nothing industrial about it.

Ember shed his backpack at one edge of the felled tree, where its roots were revealed. Whatever hole it had left when it had been uprooted was absent. There were only the roots, dirt-free. At the opposite end was the tapered top of the tree, which was speckled with branches with the same oddly smooth quality, none of them longer than Ember's arm, though the main body of the tree was wide enough that if Ember straddled it--and he did--it pushed his legs open almost too wide.

Sitting on it was...odd. There was something supernatural about it--a sort of static electricity that clung to the bark and tingled in Ember's fur. He slid back on the log and bumped into one of the few branches that protruded from the lower trunk. This one was shorter than the rest, perhaps as long as his forearm, and the end of it was round like a half sphere. That static tingled his fur and Ember scooted back against the branch, tail raised and to the side, and the firmness of the branch pressed against him. It was a very particular shape, wasn't it? Not natural at all, but was any part of this felled tree natural?

Ember rubbed his backside against it and glanced around the clearing. He was alone. He didn't hear any birds singing or squirrels scampering. There was only the sound of a rushing creek nearby, an organic static in the background.

He rubbed against the branch again. The knob of it was as wide as his wrist, though it expanded the farther down it went. But if Ember could take a knot, he could--

He bent to the side, fetched his backpack, and rummaged through the pockets. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, just...something he could use.

In one of the outside pouches with a flip cover, he found an old condom that had expired sometime earlier that year. He opened it and felt the edge of it. The lube was still good, and it didn't matter much if the actual latex tore, so...

As Ember unrolled the condom onto the stubby branch, he wondered what in the hell he was about to get up to in the middle of the woods. He couldn't stop what he was doing even though he tried mentally to dissuade himself. Ember checked to make sure he was alone again and turned around, back toward the branch, and clamped his thighs around the tree trunk to rise up a little. Once he was in the right position, he backed up into the branch again. The condom pressed against his ass, warm. The afternoon light had made the entire tree a pleasant temperature--not cool, but not hot.

Ember pressed down against the knob, teasing himself with it. That odd static feeling that lingered near the surface of the bark made his ass twitch in anticipation. He swallowed and glanced around again. If anyone came up, there was no misinterpreting what he was doing, and that was almost a thrill. What if he got caught? He'd be mortified. But, right now, the thought made him want to sink down onto the branch even more.

He pushed down and the branch started to penetrate him. He ground against it, the tip of his cock poking from his sheath as he took more and more of the branch until it was past resistance and sank into him easier. He took half of it easily before the flaring base forced him to stop and give himself time to adjust.

The dappled light toward the edge of the clearing shifted as a breeze touched the branches. It was cool on Ember's body--and his half-emerged cock--and his fur fluffed from small goosebumps. Those goosebumps weren't just from the cold, but also from excitement.

He swallowed and sank further onto the branch, taking another inch of its flare before he stopped again. It stretched him wide, but he'd taken wider before. He hadn't taken something quite so firm, though--something so unyielding. There was no give at all in the smooth branch and his body couldn't attempt to resist it. It pinged a submissive part of his mind and he pressed into it farther, taking another inch. How much had he taken, now? Maybe six inches? It was hard to tell when all his focus was on the wider parts of the branch bending his body to its shape.

He was panting and his cock was fully out, but he didn't want to touch it just yet. He lifted himself up a few inches, letting his ass rest for a second, before he sank back down again and enjoyed the stretch that was quicker than the first time. He ground back against it and sank it deeper. That firmness was unusual, but good. It pressed against his prostate, and when Ember arched his back, the sensation was brutal. He backed off, gasping, and lifted himself again before sinking back down onto the branch.

He moved on autopilot, arching his back every now and then to increase the pressure on his prostate to that torturesome degree, and then sank back down again to take more of the stretch. Before he realized it, he'd taken the branch so deeply that his ass was flush against the tree. The firmness in his body felt like it was contorting his insides, but that odd, slightly electric feeling in the branch twisted the feat into something pleasurable.

Ember needed to touch his cock. While he rose up off the branch, he took his paw to his cock and started to rub it in time with his riding--and it required a hell of a lot of self-control to stay on pace--as he sank back onto the branch over and over, taking it at first shallowly, and then deeper, and then down to the base, until he'd grown accustomed to it and could take the branch over and over again with a motion as smooth as the bark against his thighs.

He panted. The breeze came and went. The light shifted. That static electricity crept up his spine and he felt impending orgasm welling up, but refrained from rushing to the end. He kept his strokes slow. Practiced. He'd come when his body couldn't stand the pleasure any longer.

Ember sank down onto the branch again, hard, and the wood beneath him collapsed inward. He yelped and tried to grab onto something to keep himself from falling into the log, but there was nothing around and he fell into it. He'd fallen inside it awkwardly, with his butt down inside but his legs outside the pit, the back of his knees on the crumbled edge and his heels dug into the outside of the trunk to keep himself from dipping farther. His arms were out similarly, and he tried to haul himself up, but stopped with a moan.

What was he--what had he fallen into? The tree wasn't completely hollow, but it didn't feel like he was pressing against rotted wood, either. And the way he had fallen, he was perfectly positioned so that his makeshift dildo remained inside him, held in place by whatever he was resting against.

Whatever he had fallen into was warm, but that was expected. What wasn't expected was the...was it moving? Ember yelped again and tried to pull himself out of the tree, but the angle was awkward and he hadn't made much progress when his hands slipped on the wood and he fell in again.

Whatever was inside the log was definitely moving. Worst of all, his rising panic had no effect on how his body was responding to the branch still lodged inside him. When he squirmed, it crushed his prostate and he lost focus for long enough to lose all progress toward escape.

But what he was in was moving. It was definitely, certainly moving. Ember whined, but he was still on the brink of orgasm and his thoughts were too foggy for him to come up with a solution. The crawling tickled under his tail, against where the branch penetrated him, and slid underneath his balls. Where it touched the bare skin around his ass, it tingled similarly to the electricity in the tree, but much, much stronger. And whatever he was in seemed to be rising. Was it rising? Oh, no. Oh no no no.

Ember struggled again, but it was futile. The sensation crept up his body until it was against the underside of his cock, where he could better distinguish what it was. Whatever it was was...squirming. Whatever they were was squirming.

Now Ember froze. The desire to escape solidified into absolute terror. He was a deer in headlights--frozen like if he waited, the danger would pass. But it didn't. They crept up, further, until they surrounded his cock. They felt like...snakes. Worms? They were damp. No, wet. Wet and hot. Or did Ember himself feel hot?

He gritted his teeth because, oh, no. Oh, no. It was...good. That tingling on his cock sent shivers up his spine and he squirmed against that sensation and the firm branch held inside him by whatever he was stuck in.

His hazy, near-coming thoughts fogged further. That tingle was against his ass, soaking into his fur with whatever they were wet with and spreading that feeling there. The sensation engulfed his cock and he tilted his head back and tried to regain some measure of sanity while the sensation became stronger and stronger, until his legs got shaky and then gave out, dumping his entire lower half into the trunk.

He winced as his entire body weight fell on the branch inside him, shoving it as deep as it could go in a split second. But that, too, was good. It was a spike of pleasure up through his body that left him gasping for breath and trying, and failing, to be disgusted by the sensation that now wrapped his body up to the hips.

He was close. He was so close. Ember peered into the log, trying to see what in the hell he was experiencing, but the sun had shifted enough that his lower half was cast in shadow. But from this position, kneeling as he was inside the tree, he could stand up. Freedom was a step away, but his legs wouldn't cooperate. Then he was coming.

Ember came harder than he'd come in recent memory--so hard his vision whited out and he lost awareness of his surroundings until that last shudder of pleasure spurted out of him and he was shaking. The squirming was still there against his cock, rapidly becoming unpleasant now that he'd had his pleasure. But his legs still weren't working.

He tried to lift himself out of the log using only his upper body strength, but whatever he was in held him down like tar. He whimpered and tried again.

Then there was a new sensation. It was a sensation that made Ember bristle in a new kind of animal panic. One of them was squirming against his cockhead--pressing up against his tip. And Ember's body couldn't fight it. Something hot, slippery--segmented with the feeling of a ribbed toy--poked inside his urethra. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't painful. Just...alien, and Ember wanted to get away from it. And he couldn't. He couldn't tell how large it was, the one wriggling into him--because his cockhole just wasn't trained to understand things like that--but there was a tight stretch, like putting on a too-small latex glove, and it slithered deeper.

Over the next several seconds, Ember's body caught up to his brain. He got his legs under him and stood up abruptly. The branch remained lodged inside him--how?--and so did the sensation in his cock. That tingling, electric sensation.

He stumbled over the log, fell onto his chest, and promptly flipped onto his back. Whatever he was stuck in was definitely alive, but he wasn't sure what it was. It was a black film, semi-transparent, with little filaments throughout. It was wrapped around his midsection and pelvis, locking the branch inside him--and fuck, how good it felt when he twitched a single muscle there--and surrounding his cock, held outside his sheath by the film. One of the tendrils, about as thick as his thumb, was cramming itself into his cock.

Whining, Ember sunk his nails into the film and began to rip chunks of it off, but whatever he tore away filled in again. He couldn't get it off of him. It dissolved in his hands like it was made of nothing, but clung to him like oil.

The tendril pressed into Ember's cock again and he yelped for help and tried to grab the base of it, but it was slipperier than the rest of the mess and he couldn't get a solid grip on it. It seemed to understand his intentions, too, because it pressed in deeper, until it hit a spot in Ember that sent a jolt through his already abused prostate. No, no, no. Nononono. He tried to grab the film as a whole, around his waist, but it continued to dissolve like it was insubstantial and then seized him again.

Ember flinched. He had to pee. It was in his bladder, wasn't it? He'd never felt anything like it before. That tingling was still present and seemed to slide farther in. He wasn't sure how much of the tendril was inside him, but he felt something touch a part of him nothing had ever touched before. Was it--it was really in his bladder, wasn't it? Suddenly it stung. There was a sharp pain in that foreign area, followed by a numbness first there, and then in Ember's entire body. It was like he was suddenly drunk--that horrible kind of drunk where he couldn't entirely control his limbs. He grasped at the tendril again, which separated from the main film.

Ember grabbed at the tendril in a frenzy and managed to pinch it between his nails. He managed to drag several inches of it out--and the sliding through every part of his urethra was an indescribable sensation--but then it stiffened and rushed back in so quickly that Ember lost hold of it. And then it was...it was gone.

No. It wasn't gone. It was in. It was still in his cock, but it slid deeper, and deeper, until its tapered end slid into Ember's bladder and his cock was empty. The film suddenly dissolved around him, but it was no longer his main concern.

He could hardly coordinate his limbs, but he somehow got onto his hands and knees. The branch slid out of him and he gasped against the sudden relief of the pressure on his aching insides. Ember couldn't focus on that, though. He strained against the sensation in his bladder--that thick, though soft lump of something trapped inside. He hoped he could pee it out, but that was all he managed to get out--a small stream of urine. Emptying his bladder made the sensation more obvious. It was coiled and unmoving. It seemed to be resting there, content inside of him.

Ember strained against it again, but his efforts were only rewarded by the creature squirming and jolting Ember with another sharp pain that faded into numbness.

He collapsed in the grass. Dusk light filtered through the long shadows of branches and into his eyes and the wind caressed his face as if to soothe. He couldn't fight anymore. No matter what he did, he couldn't get his arms or legs to move.

With a pitiable whine, Ember lay there as the creature's venom--that's what it must have been--worked its way through his system and a feeling of near-sleep clouded his mind. Before he knew it, he was out.

---

Ember came back slowly, like fading back into reality from a nightmare. First he caught the scent of the dewy grass in front of him and smelled the richness of the forest soil. Then he felt the tall grass against his fur and heard the wind in the trees. Next he was aware of a blue, dawn light around him, and no sooner than he'd opened his eyes, he'd regained the ability to move.

Ember's movements were as slow as dripping molasses. His body felt like a sack of concrete as he worked his way up onto his hands and knees. Yesterday evening was foggy in his mind, but the more he grasped at it, the more pieces of it came back to him, though they were jumbled and he struggled to put them in order.

He'd gotten to camp. Pitched the tent. Went on a hike. Found a clearing. Ember glanced around. He'd found this clearing. And then...that was the part Ember didn't want to believe, but most of the evidence was there. The broken branch covered with a torn condom and the gaping hole in the trunk of the tree that had plunged him into a pit of--of...

His bladder was heavy. It was more than the feeling of having to urinate. It was taut, and not because of fullness. It was a sensation he couldn't describe other than that he felt like...like he was remembering everything correctly. He didn't want to be.

Ember was standing but didn't remember getting up. He was woozy. His mouth was dry. He staggered to the edge of the clearing with the intention of relieving his bladder, but he managed to get out only a few drops. When he pushed harder, another drop of moisture left him, but no more. His bladder only clamped down on what was definitely a solid mass.

Nothing could energize a person like the knowledge of an acute medical problem, even if Ember was energized only mentally. His body remained sluggish as he made his way, zombie-like, over to his pack. He downed one of the bottles of water to soothe his aching throat, gasping for breath once it was finished, and finally slung the pack over his shoulder. He had to get back to camp. Even if he'd had his phone with him, there was no signal this far out in the mountains, and he doubted anyone would wander this far into a wildlife path to stumble upon him. He was on his own until he could get back to some semblance of civilization.

He tottered out of the clearing and onto the wildlife trail. The heaviness in his bladder weighed on his mind as he wove through the trees, and occasionally whatever was in him, it--it _moved_and Ember was able to pick up his pace for several yards until the heft of the thing inside him dragged him down.

The sunlight changed as dawn moved into early morning. The pressure in Ember's bladder was heavier and seemed lower, so he stopped beside the trail and propped himself against a tree with one hand, facing it. He tried to urinate again, but the result was the same as the first time; he produced a few drops and then nothing more no matter how he strained against the sensation inside of him. He started to right himself to stand without the aid of the tree, but a sudden movement inside made him falter and he had to lean more of his weight against it to keep from falling.

It was squirming, and not like it was adjusting. Though Ember wasn't attuned enough to that part of his body to determine exactly what was happening, he noted a downward slither, then a pressure and the sudden urge to urinate.

He tried again. He strained to get something out, and gradually, the thing inside him slithered out of his bladder. Every now and then there was a jolt of sensation--a protrusion that briefly stretched him wider--and the creature slid farther, until it was in his cock and then, finally, peeking out of him.

It was horrific. Paralyzing. Ember scarcely recalled how it looked, but now it was something distinctly unlike the creature he'd seen before. It was black, with an iridescent sheen, and segmented, with each segment about as long as a fingernail. One segment was separated from the next by a firm ring with an appearance similar to the medial ring on a horsecock. The creature was soft rather than chitinous, and had no legs like a true insect. It just slithered, poking more of its head out of him.

Ember regained the ability to move all at once. He pinched the thing between his fingers--it resisted the pressure like rubber hose--and tried to pull it out. He made less than an inch of progress before the segment closest to his cock released the ring on its outer half, and the portion in Ember's fingers broke off from the rest, which darted back up his cock and into his bladder. The motion was so sudden that Ember made a sound. Those rings slammed into his bladder, wrenching opening the entrance to it wide, then he was granted some relief while the thinner body pressed in until he was, again, broken open by another ring until the entire creature was back inside of him. Ember made another sound and dropped the squirming portion of the creature his hand. The sensation of it on his fingertips crawled up his arms and made him tingle with the fear that insects were covering him, though he knew it was psychological. He strained to urinate again, but the creature refused to budge.

There was nothing Ember could do to control it, was there? Was it planning to come out again, or had it decided being inside him was better than being broken apart outside? Ember dug his nails into the tree and whimpered. He had to keep going. He had to get to a hospital somewhere.

He stumbled back over to the trail, but soon got his legs under control. The animal trail grew more distinct, widened, and finally joined back up with the hiking trail. Camp wasn't too far away. He was closer to having this thing out of him.

Pressure agonized the opening of Ember's bladder--firm, squirming pressure, like a snake attempting to burrow--and he realized, and hoped, he might be much closer to having the thing out of him than he thought. He ducked between two trees on the side of the path with the intention of going farther into the woods until he was out of sight of passersby, but his knees wobbled and he had to prop himself up on a tree in full view of the path.

It slid out of his bladder, each of its rings jolting him every time they stretched him open wider than the remainder of the creature, and into his cock. The head--or what could have been the head, though each segment was as nondescript as the next--poked out of him, and Ember had to force himself to remain still. If he grabbed it and it broke off again, then what? What was the plan after that happened?

He gritted his teeth against the constant slide, pop, slide, pop of the creature's body, then the joint between its segments, slithering out of his bladder. And it was so much longer than he thought it would be. A hand-length portion of its body was outside of him, followed closely by a greyish film that oozed out with it and stretched in thin strings between each of its rings. More of it worked out--another few inches, then another few, and another few. A foot and a half of the creature, each of its movements making Ember shudder harder and harder and increasing his desire to grab it to see if he could yank the whole thing out, dangled from his cockhead. It started to sway, curling back up on itself like a snake, its end waving in the air. Was it looking for something to grab onto? Did that mean it was ready to leave?

Ember leaned closer to the tree, which the creature's head touched and slowly slid over. It must have been content with the choice, because it slithered more of its length onto the bark, _slide, pop, slide, pop_ping out of Ember's bladder. How long could it possibly go on for?

The popping stopped. The entrance to Ember's bladder closed. He clenched his teeth and forced himself to remain still, because this must be the final stretch. It was almost out. Then, after what felt like ages, the last ring stretched Ember's cockhead and the creature's full length slithered onto the tree.

Ember reeled back to avoid the creature, which slithered across the bark and farther up, and leaned back against another tree. He tried to force himself to urinate, testing to see if anything else, small or large, remained in his bladder, and produced a long string of a grey, mucous substance that dripped to the forest floor and was followed by nothing more. There was no feeling of solidity inside him. It was gone. It was finally, thankfully, gone.

He could take no chances with the thought of the creature deciding it wanted to live inside him again. Ember all but ran back onto the trail. With its presence gone, his mind was suddenly clearer. He could coordinate his muscles correctly. The recent memory of it inside him made his skin still crawl, but he was free now. It was gone, and he was never, ever, ever coming back to this place.

Back at camp, Ember shoved things haphazardly into his pack while on the phone with emergency services, then retreated from the campsite and to the base of the mountain where he could be evaluated.