The Jungle Keeps Its Secrets
#49 of Commissions by Gruffy
Dey'rek the raccoon wants to prove his hunting skills to his tribe and ventures deep into the jungle...what will he find there?
The Jungle Keeps Its Secrets
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Hello, folks!
Been a while again (stupid black dog) but I'm back with another commission delivered, this time for the wonderfully patient darkkoon who gave me this idea - another Gruffy first, I think, at least in this category of stories...so we'll see how it turns out! Hope you like it, and I look forward to reading your comments, and do remember that the votes and faces will help others to find these stories as well!
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Dey'rek held his breath and waited, watching carefully at a very particular leafy branch that had moved only a moment before. His attention captured, the raccoon kept his gaze steady and firm, much like the muscled arms holding up the bow.
He squinted, his air still kept carefully in his chest while he waited.
Almost...almost...
He breathed out as slowly as he could, not wanting to rouse any noise while he kept stalking his prey. The feathers on the end of his arrow tickled his wrist with comforting familiarity, touching the pattern of paint he had carefully applied before the hunt.
It was not an ordinary trip out to the wilds for Dey'rek not by any means. The young raccoon was hunting for good game with the intention of proving himself to the elders of the tribe, with the blood of his catch, that he could be trusted with the responsibilities full adulthood would demand of him. Dey'rek was eager to put old follies behind and take his place among the young hunters of the tribe, many of whom were his age peers and friends who had already ascended in the carefully hierarchy and left Dey'rek a relative child in the eyes of rest of the tribe. That didn't fit the raccoon, replenish in his brown leather loincloth and the good luck patterns painted over his furs. He was 19 years old, it was about time for him to be a grown man and stop being made to look after the little kids while everyone else got to do interesting "man" things like track and hunt and go on canoe rides deep into the jungle.
Now it seemed that everything that stood between Dey'rek and the upcoming glory was that stupid, stubborn leaf, glistening with moisture from the rain still, waving ever so gently while it obscured the view between him and the supposed to beast. The air was humid and full of fragrances and scents, soil, water, flowers, everything that populated the forest. Wind swished quietly in his ears but carried no noises belonging to the predator he hoped to turn into his prey.
He could already see it...been treated as the hero of the day...hauling the carcass of the dangerous beast into the village, its blood marking him for the fierce battle that would've ensued...or indeed, the cunningness that had allowed the raccoon to capture this mighty creature. Following its tracks, sampling its scents and territory markings, slowly patching up the image in his mind.
Big beast on four paws, light ones despite their size, a tail to balance it all...
How could something so large hide so easily behind what appeared to be a simple tree and -
Dey'rek's tail tensed, becoming bristled like a brush as he stood there, bow still cock and aimed at his target.
He was sure had seen -
- had something moved -
His paws moved with instinct rather than conscious thought, making one final adjustment of tilting his arms to the left just an inch and then letting go of the arrow. He heard its swish as it left but he was already swinging his bow to his back and grabbing the sharpened, jagged stone knife on his hip that he would use to bleed his kill in case the arrow had not done its job.
The beast moved in a flash of fur and the tail he had imagined before it bolted away into the foliage and trees, cutting a path through them like just an errand wind.
Dey'rek ran. He ran as fast as his paws could fly him, following the scent trail that had gained new intensity in the heartbeat that had passed between him shooting his arrow and leaping for his prey. The animal smelled of blood. He knew he had hit it, but how badly? It was running away, forcing the raccoon into a dangerous chase through the jungle while trying his best to keep hot on the track.
He ran until his heart beat twice as hard as during the stalk. Now it was time to put all of his body into the run, the chase, his tail flailing behind him. His legs pumped, muscles straining to keep up the speed the beast was escaping from him.
Maybe he'd only dealt a gracing blow...he could be running until he was exhausted and the beast, feigning such weakness, could simply pounce on him while he was catching his breath. Such things had been known to happen...at least in the most exciting hunter's tales that were told around the nightly fir circles.
I need something, Dey'rek's mind screaming at him while he tried to keep all of his senses concentrated in following the trail. I need something to prove that even f I don't get a kill, I tried my best...it's still better than coming back empty pawed.
_ _
Maybe he'd find fur...blood in larger quantities...a tooth...a claw...
The beast showed no signs of stopping.
The raccoon let out a grunt of annoyance while he ran, paws moving meticulously, his arrows swinging and smacking against his back. Sweat was pouring all over his lean body, exerted up by the stress of the hunt that had taken such a sudden turn. It was not his first time chasing wounded prey, but it never lost the excitement, the rush, the possibility of anything happening, any kind of danger that would surely be spun into a wonderful story to tell to all of his friends and kinsmen...
Suddenly, something was different.
His path had taken him onto a clearing. It was perhaps half of the size of the main clearing at the little village, covered in soft, leafy foliage and void of the trees that created the usual landscape he had to trek through. This was a circle of light in the middle of the jungle, seemingly untouched, even as he took a few steps so that he was near the centre of the clearing, and then he stopped.
He stood, panting hard, smelling through his nose for any signs of his prey. His tiredness was punctuated by feelings of anger at himself, along with a tiny hint of fear at the still all too real possibility that maybe the creature too had traversed the clearing and was now simply waiting for the right moment to strike a defenseless hunter.
He stood with his knife drawn, legs spread so that he had secure footing to leap into any direction, his tail tense, his eyes scanning the entirety of the small clearing. He realized, with a sneer that became an audible snort, that he could no longer smell the blood or the musk of the animal he had tracked through the jungle. Instead there was his sweat and his own body odor, and something...flowery, perhaps, hard to describe.
Even in his tiredness, his instincts, the rush of the hunt, they made his stomach prickle. Suddenly the anger at the lost catch was replaced by a vague sense of unease he couldn't really explain to himself.
The place was too quiet, and the lack of trees just seemed...odd to him, being so used to seeing them wherever he went, unless they had been hacked and slashed to make room for little homesteads where they would stay for a couple of years and then move on in search of more fertile land. Somehow this didn't look like the place of a former settling like that. The large leaves that covered the ground were green, alive, about the shape of the pad on his thumb, or a warrior's shield, and they felt robust under his bare footpaws, almost like the kind of hides they spread on the ground to make a comfortable bed, or the loincloth he wore about his hips. There were no signs of animal tracks or anyone walking through, either. It looked practically untouched, and while that was not unheard of, he knew that he was moving in an area well traversed by both furs and creatures, hunters and hunted, and not always in that order.
The furs along Dey'rek's back bristled, as if continuing on the sharp angles of his tail. There was something strange about the place. Perhaps some kind of a bad magic dwelled there, the thought passed his mind, suddenly, enough to give him yet another pause. Everyone in his tribe knew about magic, the jungle was full of it, hiding in every nook, every washing rain and a peculiarly shaped tree and a stone. Maybe he had stumbled upon such a location, quite accidentally, in the heat of his chase to find the beast.
His intense thoughts were only interrupted by a strange sensation upon his ankle, something that flipped his eyes down upon his footpaws, which stood amidst the large leaves covering the ground that felt soft under his pads.
Something was definitely tugging on it.
Alarmed, Dey'rek kicked with his other footpaw to move one of the leaves obscuring the sight of his foot. To his astonishment, a pale green vine had somehow wrapped itself around his ankle with several loops, so that he was quite tightly wound in.
"What is this?" Dey'rek muttered, pulling on his leg while leaning his weight on his free foot.
He pulled hard, but the tugging only seemed to make the grip of the vines on his ankle stronger than before. It also made him almost lose his balance, and forced him to wrinkle his toes into the soil...only to feel another strange brushing upon that foot as well.
"Sorcery!" Dey'rek yelped when the vines rapidly coiled about his legs, going up to his knees in a matter of seconds. The leaves all around him on the clearing fluttered, and a weird, quiet noise filled his ears that flattened upon being suspected to the sound that was almost like a primordial hiss...foreboding and strange and inflicting fear on the young hunter.
"Oh spirits..."
His feet barely moved when he tried moving again, and the vines kept their grip tight, and came higher, too, now approaching his hips while he still struggled to move.
"Demons!" Dey'rek squeezed hard on his knife as he brought it own to the nearest vine close to his hip. He might only have moments before the snake-like tendrils might wrap all of him into their hostile embrace and he would be unable to do anything to free himself. He bit his teeth together determinedly and sliced across the pulsing, pale length.
Several of the large leaves jumped, suddenly, and further vines shot into the air, flying like whips that smacked themselves over the raccoon's body with force. He gasped and grunted at the sensation. His paw holding the knife lashed through the air, hoping to catch any of the vines that had appeared and threatened to attack him again.
"Spirits!"
The vines, had caught him, wrapped themselves around his arm so that he could no longer properly handle his knife. He was still holding onto it, but the vines around his wrist and arm made it impossible to move it more than an inch or so in either direction, and then he felt further, thinner vines wound themselves around his fingers and force them apart, despite his best attempts to try to resist, his grip on the knife loosened and it disappeared somewhere on the sea of writhing vines and the shaking leaves.
"SPIRITS, HELP!"
He could no longer feel the ground under his paws, and the thicker vines seemed to tighten around his body. His eyes, which had been filled with sights of the trees and the living foliage were suddenly replaced by the bright blue sky, seen un-obscured in the clearing that now had him in its grip.
"Aaaaah!" Dey'rek bellowed out, scared and unable to even imagine what could happen to the caught hunter in the grips of some unnatural force controlling these plants holding him down despite his attempts at struggling against the fines. They kept him down like living ropes, not moving, squeezing in places, all over his sleekly furred body.
He was not sure how long he laid there, held down on a bed of slowly squirming vines that trapped him in their grip. The leaves all around him rustled, filling his head with a bizarre, unsettling noise that had the raccoon hunter wondering on his ultimate fate. Every child in his tribe had heard the stories of mysterious flesh-eating plants that populated the darkest reaches of the jungle, even though nobody had ever known someone who had actually encountered them. Stuck in the embrace of the vines, Dey'rek started to think that the explanation to that lack was that nobody had survived to tell their own personal tale of the experience.
A shadow appeared in his field of views, dimming the sun, and Dey'rek realized that he could then see something new. A stalk had appeared, possibly sprouting from the big leaves that covered the ground, and dangling from the stalk were several purple, shiny bulbs. As further shadows appeared, Dey'rek came to the conclusion that they must've been appearing all over the clearing, growing at what seemed like supernatural speed to him. His fears only seemed to be confirmed by this - if they could do this, they could surely also consume a raccoon...
PHUFF!
PHUFF!
Suddenly his ears picked another noise, just as one of the nearby bulbs burst with that strange, hollow "PUFFF!" and a cloud of dust that shone brightly in the sunlight. The noises picked up so that he could hear a number of them going off simultaneously, all the while the dust in the air became thicker.
Dey'rek drew a deep, scared breath and immediately coughed out. The dust had entered his muzzle and tickled his nosepad and his muzzle, making him tongue tingle while he struggled to steady his breaths. The dust from the plants had a curious scent and it made his throat feel dry when he coughed to clear his muzzle to breathe properly. It was not making him feel smothered, bothered, more like, with the weird sensation and the stinging in his eyes from the powdery substance floating in his eyes.
He started to feel light-headed and the tingling seemed to spread over his body. Dey'rek wondered whether his panting breaths to clear his maw were causing the odd feelings, the pricking skin and the faintness of head that reminded him of the time he and his friends had sampled the drink made out of fermented fruit...
The raccoon noted something else, too. For reasons he couldn't understand, he could feel blood rushing into his loins, his cock growing hard in its sheath. Soon his length poked out and brushed against his belly...and the numerous slick vines that covered his body. The sensation was strange, for sure, for Dey'rek had never felt anything but his own fingers upon his bare skin, and the slowly pulsing vines felt almost good.
"Uuhh..."
The dust floating in the air seemed to be dispersing in the warm, humid wind that brushed through the clearing, but Dey'rek still felt his body grow heavier...and his cock harder, too, all the time while he breathed and tried to steady his mind to action...to continue struggling free of the vines holding him down. It seemed difficult, too, because against all of his understanding, his body tingled and his cock pulsed, firm and completely exposed, fully aroused beyond reason. Dey'rek couldn't think of a worse moment to experience such a thing, in the constriction of the diabolic vines...
The slithery vines around his groin began to move, stroking his dick while the other tendrils kept his body down and immobile. Dey'rek's eyes popped open with surprise, and a helpless moan escaped from his muzzle while he realized what was happening in his nether regions. His clouded mind barely comprehended what was going on, but he knew that whatever was happening felt good, and he moaned again.
The vine stroked along his length and smaller, thinner tendrils grew out of its tip, to wrap themselves around Dey'rek's member like dozens of thin, strong fingers that curled around him and took him in their firm grip. They moved in slow, pulsing strokes, so many of them at once that it was difficult to tell where one motion started and another ended, but by that time the raccoon barely had the presence of mind left to care for much. Somehow the caress of the mysterious plant was growing to be the most wonderful thing he had ever felt, and it kept going and going, forcing him to breathe even harder and faster.
"Uuuhhhh..."
A very thin, delicate tendril sprouted from its thicker brother and tickled against the throbbing raccoon shaft's tip, moving along its shiny, slick surface until it discovered the leaking little slit on the top. Dey'rek moaned when the feeling grew almost painful, the tendril tickling upon his opening until it felt like it was trying to push its way in...an alien sensation unlike anything the raccoon could've imagined in his wildest sexual dreams, not an unlikely occurrence for a young raccoon who wasn't supposed to be dallying with anyone of the fairer sex until he had proven himself as a man. That seemed unlikely now, with him in the trap of the plant...but Dey'rek could only care for the continued sensations in his groin, the most sensitive part of his body caressed in so many ways by the tendrils that undulated all over him.
Time lost its meaning in the cocoon of the plant, its captive, the raccoon, thoroughly pleasured while the pollen dust he had inhaled made sure that he was filled with a ceaseless hunger for mating. His hips flexed against the firm, yielding grip of the plant, causing even further smooth stroking to fall upon him from the mysterious, coaxing pressure that rubbed up and down over his shaft. Little tickling fingers entered his shaft and stroked along the extremely sensitive bare skin there, and a further bundle even wound itself around his furry sac and rolled his balls with a slow pumping motion. Something slick oozed out of the vines and lubricated everything on their path, making for an even smoother ride of the plant's mischievous tendrils over the trapped raccoon's body. It permeated his furs as much as it glistened all over his skin, the hot shaft painted a dark red while the constant stimulation kept the raccoon rock hard and throbbing.
Dey'rek could barely even tell when another, thicker vine wriggled its way upon the base of his tail, the same fully appendage itself already tied down with several loops of the tendrils. The questing vine brushed against the underside of the raccoon's fondled balls and then sought the spot of warmth directly beneath them. Further oily sap oozed out of pores all along the length of the vine and rubbed onto the raccoon's tailhole, before the round, delicate tip began to press onto the centre of the young male's pink pucker.
The raccoon noticed the pressure, even through the haze of pleasure covering his sweaty, ooze-covered body. The sensation was alien, for it was certainly not a touch he entertained while touching his privates...but now the pliable, slick length was pressing into Dey'rek's hole, and beyond. He gasped when its girth grew wider as the thicker part of the vine entered his ass, the forbidden zone now deeply and truly breached while the vine had its way with the young tribal raccoon.
The vines stroked the hunter for an ageless time, keeping the writhing raccoon in their embrace. Dey'rek had no choice but to surrender, his body without motion, except that of a gentle rocking as the vines tended to him. Stroking him in and out, the raccoon gasped and moaned, his noises swallowed by the gently breezing wind that let no signs of the raccoon's presence carry further into the jungles. The field of vines had found a new plaything and intended to keep him until they would be sated...and judging by Dey'rek's moans and grunts, the wait was about over.
"OHH!"
Pure, sparkling pleasure coursed through Dey'rek's convulsing body when his orgasm burst through him, his white, pearly, copious cum shooting out of his straining balls and his shaft until it splashed into hungry pores upon the vines that covered the tip of his penis. The plant suckled thirstily, taking each drop upon itself and nourishing on the raccoon hunter's juices, all the while milking his anus from within to get even further of the raccoon's salty liquid. The vines did not stop even when the flow of seed eventually withered out and stopped, leaving Dey'rek panting and gasping and his body shivering from the intensity of the pleasurable acts that had been put upon him.
His dazed condition lasted for but a moment, for the vines never stopped caressing the raccoon's body - they wanted more, and now that they had found a source, they were going to do their best to receive more of this wonderful nectar from the balls of the captive hunter.
...
"Ahh..."
"...ohh...."
...
...
...
...
"Hah, look at that!"
"No way!"
_ _
"Hahah...!"
_ _
Dey'rek's ears flicked weakly, his eyes opening tiredly at the clipped noises coming from somewhere...in a haze...
"Well, well..."
_ _
The raccoon's head throbbed, and his entire body seemed to ache...his neck, especially, when he moved it, to realize that his head was resting against the trunk of a tree.
"...this what you call hunting, Dey'rek?"
_ _
Dey'rek opened his eyes and realized that someone was looking down to him...a tall, slim, muscled male wearing a brown leather loincloth and a series of ornate beaded necklaces, which told of his status as a mature hunter...besides the smirk above them that identified him even more certainly.
"...Tre'on?" Dey'rek grumbled.
"What're you up to here, Dey'rek?" the raccoon snickered.
Dey'rek realized that Tre'on was not alone. Behind him, several more hunters stood, some of them young, but a few older ones too, whom stood some way away, with bemused looks but perhaps not intending to join in the fray of the younger males looming over the seated raccoon sprawled on the ground.
"Been polishing your spear huh?" another raccoon standing to Tre'on's right, by the name of Ken'ed, inquired, while pointing at Dey'rek with his own hunting spear.
Dey'rek glanced down along his body and noticed his own nudity then, which made his tail bristle and jump out. The hunters laughed, which made Dey'rek blush under his masked face furs.
"Uh..."
"So this is what you do when you say you're hunting..." Tre'on smirked, tail wagging behind him.
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