Cbarton
2nd Level Yellow Feather
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- Jan 8, 2003
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I hope you enjoy this story...
Charlotte Covington Collins arose slowly from her cot. They had been on this God-forsaken island in Malaysia for 3 weeks now and she was bored to tears. Her husband, Lord Humphrey Collins, the 4th Earl of Willouby, had risen with the dawn yet again for the hunt. What was it this time? Malaysian rhinoceros? Tiger? Boar? Yeah, boar was more like it. It certainly described this place.
It also seemed to describe her marriage. There was the initial excitement of courting and the honeymoon thrills. But, 2 years later, it all was coming up lacking. Humphrey was more interested in gaining title, lands, and prestige than fulfilling his ‘husbandly’ role with her after the second month. She suspected he had already gone back to some mistress he had stashed away prior to courting her, but she couldn’t prove it…yet. All the social duties that filled her days were a perfect way to keep her out of his way. She the only reason she came on the trip was to make sure this was actually where he had gone, and not to some French brothel somewhere so he could fill her with syphilis later. Besides, there had been a change in him lately. More and more, her time in his bed had been becoming more and more violent. The bruises he left on her were able to be hidden, but she feared it would get worse. She had been watching around her, and began to see some of the same tell-tale bruises that she had learned to hide. Either all men beat their women, or her husband was already visiting other tents at night or in the jungle during the day.
The young girl assigned to serve her brought in breakfast silently and slowly left the tent. Charlotte ate silently as she dressed. Compared to her proper Victorian dress and upbringing, the women here looked absolutely primitive. You could see their legs, their arms, and most of their bosom! It was almost shameful for her to walk by them at first. And the way all the men looked at them, especially the men that were part of this trip. You’d have thought they had never seen a woman before. Of course, as long as it had been between trysts with her husband lately, she almost felt the same way about the local native men in the camp. She could feel her womanly urges hit her at times, but, being the proper woman that she was, she suppressed them well. After all, that was what her husband was supposedly for.
She finished eating and left her tent. She walked through the compound hoping to find something to occupy her time. She missed her home in England, her friends, her gardens. Her flower gardens were the envy of the county. And the groves of fruit trees were a favorite place to sit and read and reflect. She enjoyed nothing more as a child than the climb or walk among the tall trees to escape her brothers or her nanny. She looked around and saw all the huge trees near the compound and longed to explore the area, but Humphrey had insisted that she never leave the camp. She suspected it was to help hide his trysts with the local women, thought he claimed it was for her safety to keep her from getting lost in the jungle. They had also been given a warning about a mangrove forest nearby, referred to by the local woman as the forbidden grove. It was said that it was a dangerous area for women, as no woman who ever entered it ever came out again. Charlotte found the fact that men could go in and women could not was very suspicious. It mad her wonder what was actually in there. Wild animals? Poisonous exotic plants? Some form of jungle brothel for the men?
Today, she decided, she would sneak out of the camp for part of the day. ANYTHING would be better than the death by boredom she was experiencing here. As she laid alone in her cot for yet another night, she created her plan. He had hidden some of her breakfast on her and she slowly worked her way to the south end of the encampment. She found it incredibly easy as she sneaked off the site and slipped into the dense forest. She took her time as she headed south. She had hidden a compass away the night before and knew how to use it, learning at the side of her father, the admiral. She followed what appeared to be an old footpath.
Oh the sights she was seeing! These trees were larger than any she had ever seen. Huge, monstrous trees that were larger around than rooms in her house! Flowers the like of which she had never seen and wanted to take home to her gardens in England. It was so beautiful. Now, she was relaxing and enjoying herself. She took her time and explored. She saw orchids with vibrant colors that rivaled anything her mother had grown. The trees were so big, with no branches low enough to reach, not that her dress would allow her to climb up anyway. She thought about ripping off her skirt so she could, and then blushed at the idea of someone seeing her limbs like that. Then, she felt an unexpected thrill at the idea of being seen like that. She had enjoyed the attention her husband had initially given her, and could be as passionate as any other woman, but was embarrassed at times at the degree and intensity that her desire for passionate contact could be at times. One night, as she lay in her cot, she imagined being dressed as one of the native women, and felt a rush of excitement and passion at the idea now. But, she had to be proper and civilized among these common people. She kept moving deeper into the forest, fascinated by all she saw.
After about one hour into her walk, she became very thirsty. In her haste, she failed to grab a canteen for water. She listened as her father had taught her for the sounds of running water, but heard none. Not wanting to turn back, she decided to look deeper in the forest for a stream. With all this plant growth, she knew that water had to be somewhere nearby. In her haste to explore this grove, she missed a sign, carved into a tree trunk. It was written in the native tongue of the tribe, saying “Forbidden Forest, all womenfolk turn back!”
She walked deeper into the mangrove forest. These trees had always fascinated her, the fact that an entire ‘grove’ could be made up of just one tree. As she explored this mangrove forest, she saw something she had never seen on a mangrove before. She saw massive, beautiful lavender-colored flowers hanging from its limbs. Some were small, some larger than her, or so it appeared. It instantly made her homesick for the lavender growing in her gardens in England. And the fragrance they gave off, oh what a glorious aroma! She walked up closer, to look at a smaller blossom near the ground. She sniffed it and the sweetness of it nearly brought tears to her eyes. The smell was so good it was almost intoxicating. She slowly walked to what appeared to be the central trunk. She was elated to see a pool of water next to it. She walked up very carefully, knowing that beasts like tigers liked to lie in wait for prey near watering holes, and for signs of crocodiles. Seeing signs of none, she approached the pool.
When she reached the pools edge, she knelt on her knees, and then she stopped. She noticed no other signs of animal tracks near the pool. If the water was clear, fresh, and safe, there would be signs of other animals drinking there. As deep into the rain forest as she was, she could not take the chance, no matter how thirsty she was. She slowly stood up and walked backwards away from the pool. As she did, she tripped and fell to the ground. She looked down to see that she had tripped on a root sticking up from the ground. “Strange, I don’t remember seeing that root there when I walked up to the pool,” she thought to herself. She got back up on her feet.
“Drink…”
Charlotte quickly turned her head back and forth. The voice was clear, almost audible, but almost felt like it had originated in her head. She looked around slowly, to make sure one of the natives hadn’t followed her and was trying to trick her. She walked back towards the pool to look more. As she did, another root popped up from nowhere and caused her to trip and fall again. Her forward momentum caused her to fall into the pool of water.
Charlotte went under, and then popped her head above water. The pool must be fed from a spring, she surmised, for it felt very cool to her skin. Drops ran off her face across her lips and she could not avoid tasting it. It was cool, refreshing, and surprisingly, sweet. She slowly swam her way back to the edge. She climbed out and did what she could to shake the water off of her. As she tried to dry herself off, she noticed that it felt slightly thinker than water. Not much, but just enough to make it feel like a cross between water and syrup. Her garments were soaked and needed to be dried out. Knowing she would be alone, she started to undress. She placed her garments onto a low branch to dry, wearing only her corset, slip, and panties.
“By now, if the water was bad I’d begin to feel sick,” she reasoned, so she walked toward the pool again. Before she did, she sniffed more of the blooms. The fragrance felt even more intoxicating as she deeply inhaled. In fact, she felt a little woozy as she reached the pool. As she knelt to drink, she heard the voice again.
“Drink…”
She looked around again, shrugged and scooped the water to her mouth. It was so refreshing, feeling so cool and good as it trickled down her throat. She scooped up another handful and drank it as well. Then, she sat on the ground and looked around. This place looks so beautiful, she thought. Even more relaxing than Aunt Flora’s garden back in Coventry. She looked back at the pool. So clear. So inviting. Now that she was no longer thirsty, she felt relaxed. In fact, more relaxed than any time since they arrived.
“Drink again…”
This time, she figured it was her own thoughts telling her how dehydrated she was, so she scooped up more to drink. So cool and sweet to her tongue, she was beginning to feel almost giddy. She walked over to where an old log was laying next to the edge of the pool. She sat on it and dipped her toes into the pool. It felt so good she immersed her feet at well.
“Enter…Swim…”
Suddenly, the thought of a refreshing swim sounded delightful. There was no one around to see her, which was too bad. She would have loved to have seen her husband’s face if he discovered her in the pool. All the scenes from those naughty romance novels her friends shared with her came to mind as she removed her slip, placing with the rest of her clothes. She felt so delightfully wicked as she removed her corset. She breathed a big sigh of relief as it came off, her breasts free from their confining prison. She reached down. Did she dare? Why not? She could see no one around, so she slowly slid off her panties. Her body had not experienced childbirth yet, and she still held her girlish figure. She looked down and smiled at her nude reflection in the pool. With a naughty grin on her face, she waded in.
The water felt cool to her hot skin, but not chilly. She looked down and saw no fish or other creatures in the pool. All the better, less to fear that way. She swam and floated as the water felt so good on her skin. It was almost like it was absorbing into her skin, it felt that good. She swam and floated for a few minutes as her body become more and more relaxed. Oh to have a pool of water like this at home, she thought. Even without her husband’s attentions she could feel so good in a pool like this.
“Dive…”
She decided to go underwater to see what it looked like down there. She took a deep breath and went under. It was a small but very deep pool. The water was perfectly clear, and as she swam over to check out the edges, they felt less like mud or dirt and more like wood from the banyan grove. It felt very smooth, and not hewn. It was almost as if the pool was part of the tree. She explored more, looking over every part. It was a perfect oval pool, going down about 8 foot in depth. She swam to the bottom and felt many small branches and roots there. They were soft and feathery to the touch. She ran her fingers and feet through them. She stifled a giggle underwater as it tickled her feet. It almost felt like the roots were reaching out for her feet and toes. The motion of the water moved them between her toes and it tickled so bad she began to swim to the surface.
“Stay…”
That was when she noticed it. She did not feel short of breath. In fact, her lungs should be burning by now, but they felt normal, as if she was above water. She stopped her motion to the surface. It was as if she was a mermaid in her own lagoon. She opened her mouth and swallowed water. She felt no panic of suffocation as she took it in. She decided to swim to the surface. As she swam…she saw a branch stick out from the side of the pool. She brushed by it as she sought the surface. She felt its leaves touch her, the same feather-like feel of the roots below. She felt herself giggle as it ran past her arms, shoulders, and belly. Part of her wanted to grab it and do it again, but she thought better. As she passed it by, it almost felt like it was trying to grab her ankles and feet as she passed it.
She reached the surface, and began to breath easily. No urgency to her lungs. All she knew was that the water felt good. Too good to climb out of yet. She knelt down and drank more. The water made her feel so good. So relaxed. It was like it was soaking into every pore of her body. She hadn’t felt this good in years.
“Join me…”
She decided she needed to get out and dry off. She slowly swam to the edge of the pool. As she got to the edge, she felt more roots as she walked up the side. She giggled as they rubbed her soles and toes, some almost trying to curl around and grasp her toes. It tickled, but it felt so good that she at one point just moved her feet up and down in place, as if she was playing with the roots and they were playing with her. She didn’t even try to stifle the giggles as the ticklish sensations moved all over her feet. She finally stepped completely out of the pool and walked towards her clothes to see how dry they were.
“Sniff…”
On her way to them, she spied a large blossom from the tree that she didn’t remember seeing near it before. She just has to take another smell. She leaned her face into it and inhaled deeply. This time, as she inhaled, she got even woozier. She laughed and inhaled again. She hadn’t felt this good since the time she had too much wine at Lady McAllister’s Harvest Festival. She took a step back and ran her hands over the petals. They felt so soft, softer than anything she had ever felt. She leaned in and rubbed her cheeks against them. They felt lighter and more feathery than the leaves underwater. She sniffed the blossom again, its intoxicating aroma making her feel so relaxed.
“Touch…”
Suddenly she got a deliciously wicked idea. She reached for the branch the blossom was on and pulled it to her. It came to her quite easily, almost as if it had wanted to be moved or moved willing. She ran her hands over the bark. It was as smooth as the banister of the main house. The leaves as she rubbed them between her fingers were as soft as they felt underwater. She lowered the branch more and rubbed them on her belly. Shivers of pleasure hit her as she felt them stroke her skin. He husband’s hands had never felt so good. She did it across her shoulders and it felt just as exquisite. Tiny shots of pleasure entered her body with every stroke of the leaves on her skin. She ran them on her legs, back, and neck. The sensations were nothing like she had felt since, well, ever to be blunt about it.
She spun some of the thin branches around her body like a boa or scarf. Then, she slowly slid the leaves across her body. It felt like dozens of soft, feathery fingers caressing her at once. Then, a sudden erotic jolt went through her. She looked and saw that some feathers had grazed over her derriere. She let out a wicked giggle as she moved her hands to remove them from such an ‘improper’ spot. As she pulled at them, they stroked her bottom more, making the feeling even more intense. “Oh, you naughty little leaves, that feels so wickedly good, I may leave you there!” she exclaimed to no one, except maybe herself. Then a warm breeze blew through, causing all the leaves to rustle. Their movement nearly made Charlotte fall to the ground in giggles, the ticklish sensations so new, so overwhelming to her.
She unwound herself. As she did, she was almost disappointed by the lack of sensations on her skin. She thought about the leaves on her bottom. As she thought more about it, a wide grin covered her face. If they felt so deliciously wicked there, how did they feel on other, more ‘wicked’ spots? She took the branch and considered plucking off some leaves. Then, for some reason she decided that would be cruel to the tree, so she positioned herself so she could manipulate the branches. She looked down at herself and hesitated. She would have some stories to tell the “Ladies Literature Society” when she returned to England! She moved the branch across her bosom. She gasped in delight as she felt the leaves touch one of her most delicate of places. She watched her nipples swell instantly from the sensations the leaves created. This feeling was beyond wicked, it was divine. She stood there for several minutes that felt like hours moving the leaves on her tender breasts. Once, she just held the branch still, and the leaves felt like feathers in a lover’s hands as they rustled against her in the breeze. Although, oddly, she felt no breeze on her legs.
She felt giddy still as she pulled the branch away from her, the sensations reaching the point where they were about to cause her to do totally embarrassing and unladylike things to herself. She wanted, needed to smell a blossom again. She did, the heady aroma now totally intoxicating her. She got a naughty thought and leaned in deeper so that her breasts fell among the blossom petals. She shrieked in delight as the petals felt even better on her skin than the leaves! Suddenly her mind filled with the fantasy of rolling in a bed or tub filled with these exquisite petals.
“Walk to me…”
She felt the need to drink again, in spite of the fact that she was no longer thirsty. As she walked toward the pool, a breeze seemed to cause branches to blow into her. Funny, though, once again, she felt no breeze. But, once the branches hit her, she was engulfed by a huge swarm of leaves. Shrieks, giggles, and moans flowed from her as her naked body felt them all over at once. The totality of the pleasure from it overloaded her mind, as she just slowly turned inside the branch, as if the smaller branches were reaching out to specifically touch her, it felt so good. Then, a leaf brushed her womanhood, swollen from all the new sensations hitting her. She cried out as it brushed her clitoris and her gates. Only her husband had ever touched her there, and then only rarely. Her knees started to buckle and it felt as if only the branches were holding her up.
“Come to me, my lover, I have prepared a place for you…”
This time she could not avoid the voice. “Who…who are you?” She moaned out as she felt herself released from, or was it by, the branches. As she looked forward, she saw what must have been the largest blossom on the tree, as it was, could it be, being lowered down towards her?
“I am the tree as you see me. But I am more than a tree. I am a dairaoi, the spirit who dwells in this tree. I have been waiting for one as you to join me, to give pleasure to, to drink my nectar as you have. Please, come and rest in this blossom-bed, prepared just for you…” the voice in her head told her. Then she felt the branches near her gently wrap around her and try to coax her toward the blossom.
“Oh…b-but..this…cannot be! This must be a dream…a hallucination from the water or the fragrance of the flowers. You are just a treeheehee…you canhahant talk…” she tried to say as the leaves tickled her bottom and legs, coaxing her toward the blossom.
“No, I am very real. The natives here are too simple to understand, so they ban their women from my grove. But you…you understand the longing. You want my touch as much as I desire to touch you…” On those words, the branches gently engulfed her more, the leaves stroking her all over. Charlotte began to giggle and moan again. The siren-like call to her was hard to resist. She know how soft that blossom would be, better than any feather bed. But, how could a tree talk? “I can give you pleasures not known to any woman of this age, just come to me…” it called to her.
A small blossom lowered near her face. She could smell it, but this time she tried to avoid it, wanting not to lose her senses from its heady, intoxicating aroma. The blossom them moved in front of her, and the center of it exploded, shooting out pollen in the air before Charlotte. Before she could stop herself, she inhaled the pollen. Almost instantly, she became relaxed, as calm as she had become from sniffing the blossoms earlier. The blossom bed looked so inviting and she was so tired now from all the walking and swimming. Then, wicked thoughts invaded again as she imagined all those soft, tickly petals on her bare skin. She walked as in a hypnotic state toward the large blossom, bigger than the bed in her husband’s chambers. Vines wrapped around her ankles and wrists, gently lifting her to the blossom and laid her upon it.
She gasped as she felt the soft petals on her legs, back and bottom. “Sooo nice…” she moaned as she laid back to rest. She watched as the blossom enclosed around her, covering her like a blanket, only her head outside of it. She turned to her side, giggling and wiggling as the petals stroked all of her skin as she moved. She kept giggling as she felt the petals against her feet, much like the roots at the edge of the pool. She tried to hold still but she could not. Every time she changed position, the petals tickled her all over. She moaned in ecstasy as they stroked her thighs and breasts. She tried to cover her bosom and womanhood, but the tinier of the petals seemed to work around her.
She thrashed more, but it only made it more intense. Her laughter started to take over as it felt like the petals were actually stroking her, even when she laid still. It felt so good, so glorious, so wicked, so horrible. She had never felt pleasure such as this and she couldn’t handle anymore. She tried to work her hands up to her head, but the blossom was closed to tightly, as only her head and shoulders were outside. She then tried to cover her breasts and womanhood with her hands, but something held them up high now and blocked their movement. She could feel petals on her swelling nipples. She felt fire between her legs as the petals teased her nub and her swelling gates. Not even her husband’s feeble attempts to pleasure her had awakened this much fire in her loins, and as a proper English woman of character, it was more than she was prepared for.
“What are you…doing…to meheeheeheeheeheehee…” she cried out to the dairaoi.
“You are the first in over a hundred years to allow me to pleasure them. I will give you pleasure beyond your dreams. Pleasures that will cause you to beg for more…to stay…as the women of hold who tended me…back in the ancient times when the women would come here just for my pleasures…”
Charlotte felt the fire in her loins spread to other parts of her body. She could feel her nipples swollen larger than they had ever felt except from her own too brief touches. She thought she was going insane as thunders of pleasure cracked over her. It was so maddening, but she felt herself enjoying it and craving more. As if it could read her thoughts, the petals intensified their play. She felt her body begin to tremble, feeling like a boiling pot with a tight lid ready to explode. Then, just as suddenly, the explosion hit her like a stack of crates. She felt her body tense up, then an explosion of sheer hot pleasure erupted like a volcano in her loins, quickly spreading all over her. She shouted, shrieked and moaned as the riptides of orgasm struck, a sensation so new to her that she was scared and enthralled at the same time. Then, she felt her body relax as the waves subsided. She looked around for something, someone to look at, to speak to. “What…what was that…” she whispered, unable to do anything beyond that.
“I have given you the gift of completed pleasure. Something you have never felt before. Once you’ve had a taste, you’ll be satisfied with nothing else again…” The blossom tightened around her, but she felt no fear, as it felt like an affectionate embrace, not a threatening crush.
As it embraced her, she giggled more, as her newfound state had her more sensitive than before. She began to move inside the blossom, wanting more of this new feeling. As she did, she felt the blossom loosen its grip on her. It opened up, and the sides of the blossom moved to the center and stroked her, as a large hand would caress her. The giggling and wiggling were instantaneous. She wanted to hold still but could not as the blossom caressed every inch of her body. She felt something on her ankle, and saw one of the stamens was wrapped around it. She then saw the other one wrap the other ankle. Before she could react, two other stamens held her wrists tight, as if she was tied to the blossom. “What…what it this…am I a prisoner?”
“No, my lover. You are no prisoner, I seek your safety and fuller pleasures…look to the side…” As she did, she saw to her amazement she was several hundred feet in the air. Any movement too far would be a deadly fall. Now she understood. This tree, this dairaoi, did care for her. Perhaps even more than Humph...Humph…suddenly, she could not remember his name as she felt a sensation on her nipples. Two more stamens were rubbing her there. It felt so wonderful, so exquisite. She arched her back to push into them to feel more. They stroked, and it almost felt like, too her shameful delight, as if they were licking her there. She closed her eyes and relaxed, the erotic joy flooding her mind. Then she gasped as she felt something on her womanhood. A new stamen was rubbing there. She felt herself becoming wet there, something that only happened when she and her ‘literature’ friends discussed the naughty books they read. She tried to open her legs wider and felt her body rub against it. She wanted that fire again. She didn’t care how shamefully she acted or moved to get it.
“Now, my lover, time to become complete. It is time we become one…”
She heard his sweet, siren voice and nodded. Her mind in a dream-like state, nearing orgasm again. She looked down and saw the pistle of the blossom. All the petals had moved away from it. Fear of recognition hit her as she sensed what was coming. The stamens pulled her toward the pistle, closing the blossom around her as before. But this time she did not struggle. As she felt the pistle against her gates, she knew one thing for sure. Her husband’s chambers had never pleasured her like this…
When Charlotte awoke, it was twilight. She was lying on an open blossom, this one covered with a soft animal fur that did not tickle as the petals. She knew it was a gift from her lover, her dairaoi. She chose to call him Dai for short. She rubbed the wood of the branch she was on and kissed it. She no longer felt any shame or trepidation over being naked up in his branches. The day and night has completed her as a woman. She wanted to live up here in his branches forever. The pool was a mixture of the nectar from his blossoms and sap, which sustained him and even could feed her. She needed and wanted nothing more than to stay here. Dai had lifted her clothes up to her, but she had declined to dress herself. No one else was around, so she felt no need, and no shame. She did, however, feel the desire for a swim. She easily climbed and slid down to the ground. Just as she was about to jump in, she heard something that stopped her cold.
“Charlotte!!!!”
She turned around and saw Humphrey in the distance, coming that way. He was sure to find her, and take her away from her Dai. She wanted to climb up but had no time. She saw her clothes being lowered to her, and she grabbed them and hid behind some branches as she quickly dressed.
Humphrey approached the grove. He has seen the prints on the ground that only her shoes could have made, so he knew she had been here. When he found her, he would give her what for. Wandering off, lost was costing him time. Time from hunting and time from the young native girl who had been giving him pleasures beyond belief since they had arrived. He was mad, and she would get the full brunt of it.
Then, he saw her. She was just sitting there, at the foot of a central trunk of this grove, near what appeared to be a pool. His temper flared more as he wondered how long she had just been sitting here, wasting his valuable time. “CHARLOTTE! What in God’s name do you think you are doing out here??”
She slowly stood to her feet. “Ahh, Humphrey darling. Isn’t this a beautiful grove? Such large trunks and beautiful blossoms. I just fell in love with this spot and lost all track of time.”
“Come here this instant!” he bellowed. She wasn’t lost or scared. She had stayed here WILLINGLY. In the FORBIDDEN groves! So forbidden, the native men has stayed back. “It is late; we have to leave now for the camp. Come on!”
“Please, Humphrey, darling. Give me a few moments to say goodbye to this lovely grove. I just love it here so much. So much I want to return tomorrow…”
Humphrey watched her. She stood up and rubbed her hands all over the trunk of the tree. But, it was not a normal rub. It looked different somehow, almost as if she was caressing it. The way she used to caress him. Nah, it couldn’t be. Then she kissed the trunk. Suddenly, he remembered the legends his native concubine had told him. How women in the groves refused to leave it, and how they yearned to return to that grove above all else. He also noticed something else. The way she moved was different. Even the way her blouse and corset covered her was different. She was showing herself below the neckline. Now he knew what was up. She had met someone here. Some native had taken her, or perhaps she took him? Either way, he was not going to be cuckolded out here.
He marched forward and grabbed his arm. “Where is he?” he demanded.
“Who?” she replied in fear. The fire in his eyes was only there the times he had beaten her. Certainly a simpleton such as him could not know about Dai.
“You know very well who. The man who was with you. A man can tell when a woman has been had by another. Show me where he is, now!” He lifted his rifle, cocking it. The click echoed in the grove.
“How dare you? How dare you accuse me of bedding another man! I have had no other man in my bed, my loins besides you!” she said as she glared back at him. She slapped him across the face, insulted. It was true; Humphrey had been the only man. Dai was no man. But, to her mind and body, he was so much more.
“LIAR!” he roared, and then he backhanded her across the face. She fell down hard on her side. “I can see the signs of sex on you. The lingering of ecstasy is still in your eyes. The way you are holding your hips, the way your bodice is open are not your normal way. I can tell when a woman has been with a man…”
“I’m sure you can, since you have bedded so many of them, before AND after our vows!” she shouted with rage before she could stop herself. Now it was in the open for the first time. Fear overtook her as she knew it could also be the last, with no one here to protect her. She tried to get up, but only saw the rifle barrel in her face.
“So, you know more than I thought. They said you were too smart for me to fool. No matter. Once I pull the trigger, I can make your body look like a tiger attacked you. Then I can finally get ALL of your family’s fortune and no longer have to suffer you as my wife. Now, where is he? So I can get rid of any witnesses. TELL ME!”
“There is no man! I have not been with any man!” she cried out, fearing her fate.
“No ‘man’ you say…you keep emphasizing that. Is he just a boy? A young lad? Giving a young native boy first tastes of silk? Such a vile wicked woman you are!” Humphreys’ rage was at a peak. “Just pull the trigger and be rich” he thought to himself.
Just as he started, a huge branch fell in front of his face, blocking his vision. Charlotte took the chance and tried to run for it. Humphrey cleared himself from the branches and pursued her. She managed to swing up on a branch and quickly climbed upward, aided by foot and hand holds created by Dai as she climbed. Humphrey tried to follow her, but his massive girth prevented him from doing so. He went back for his gun and ran back to the spot. By now, she had climbed upward at an alarming rate. It was as if she was a monkey, or as if the tree was helping her. He shook his head and took aim. He fired off two rounds, both missing her head by mere inches. He tried to fire off one more round, but his rifle jammed. Now, she was out of range.
Charlotte looked down upon her husband. How long would he pursue her? Would he get natives that could climb as well as she was? “Oh Dai, what to I do? He wants to kill me…”
“You can hide in my grove forever, my lover…no one can harm you as long as I li… AHHHHH” His voice was like a shout of agony in her head. “Fire…he’s burning me…with fire…help…meeee…” was all she heard. She saw his branches starting to whither. She quickly saw the hasty bonfire Humphrey had built to smoke or burn her out. She landed quietly on top of him, trying to knock him down. He quickly threw her off and stood over her.
“You’ll destroy the entire grove! What are you doing?” she cried.
“Easy. I knew it would flush you out. Plus, a fire will destroy any evidence of how I kill you.”
“You’re a beast!”
“Yes, soon to be a very rich beast.” He picked her up and carried her near the trunk, the fire blazing away at the trunk nearest the pool. He picked up a knife from his pack, the cold steel reflecting the orange of the flames. “Yes…this will do nicely. Quick and clean…” he muttered. One quick slit and it would be all over, he thought.
Charlotte only had one chance. When Humphrey turned his back to her to look at the knife, she struck. She shoved her foot with all her might at his right knee. He had injured it in rugby as a youth and it often gave him problems. Humphrey bellowed and crumpled as her foot nailed the weak tendons of his knee. Before he could get up, she reached for the nearest thing she could find. She grabbed the rifle by the barrel and swung it like a cricket bat. The stock of the gun caught him square in the side of his head and knocked him cold. As he fell forward with a thud, she hit him once, twice, three times in the back of the head. She stood over him, panting hard from the adrenaline rush of mortal combat. When she knew he was out cold, she instantly kicked away the bonfire, using the kettle from Humphrey’s pack to scoop liquid from the pool to quench the flames. She wept for joy as the last of the flames died out.
“More…to my trunk…the burns…” she heard Dai say faintly. She obeyed and watched in amazement as the burns faded away with every splash of liquid. When it was done, she sat there, weeping for joy over saving Dai, fearful over what to do with Humphrey and the aftermath. In a moment, she knew what she had to do.
Charlotte walked out onto the veranda of her plantation house. It overlooked the Malaysian valley at the perfect angle to enjoy the sunrise and sunset. It was a beautiful home, with all the comforts of England combined with the tropical atmosphere of the region. It had been 5 years since Humphrey’s death. Everyone thought it was so tragic how he had fallen off that cliff face trying to find his missing wife, who had returned on her own to the camp site. His body had been found and identified, and buried in the family plot in England. All of his estate went to her, and all were shocked when she sold her property in England to her cousin, declaring that her love for Humphrey demanded that she move to Malaysia, where his spirit still looked for her, and would find her there waiting for him.
As soon as the estate went probate, she packed up all she wanted to save and sailed for Malaysia. Buying the property was easy. The legend of the Forbidden Grove was strong, so no natives wanted it. The Governor of the region was an old shipmate of her late father, the admiral. She bought all the property around the mangrove forest. She lived mainly in the big house, but would spend nights in the grove in a small cabin she had built next to a natural spring in the main mangrove forest. She would not allow any male servants or gentleman callers, of which the rich widow had many, to go there. On occasion, she would bring a female servant or two; however, this would happen once, maybe twice a year. She would not tell anyone why, and the servants told of nothing but taking care of Lady Collin’s daily needs. They did, however, always say it with gleam in their eyes.
Lady Collins spent the rest of her life there in the valley, rarely leaving. When she died, she bequeathed her title and her property to one of her nieces. To this day, the property is always inherited by a female member of the family. When asked why, the Lady would say it was because Charlotte would want it that way…
The Forbidden Grove
Charlotte Covington Collins arose slowly from her cot. They had been on this God-forsaken island in Malaysia for 3 weeks now and she was bored to tears. Her husband, Lord Humphrey Collins, the 4th Earl of Willouby, had risen with the dawn yet again for the hunt. What was it this time? Malaysian rhinoceros? Tiger? Boar? Yeah, boar was more like it. It certainly described this place.
It also seemed to describe her marriage. There was the initial excitement of courting and the honeymoon thrills. But, 2 years later, it all was coming up lacking. Humphrey was more interested in gaining title, lands, and prestige than fulfilling his ‘husbandly’ role with her after the second month. She suspected he had already gone back to some mistress he had stashed away prior to courting her, but she couldn’t prove it…yet. All the social duties that filled her days were a perfect way to keep her out of his way. She the only reason she came on the trip was to make sure this was actually where he had gone, and not to some French brothel somewhere so he could fill her with syphilis later. Besides, there had been a change in him lately. More and more, her time in his bed had been becoming more and more violent. The bruises he left on her were able to be hidden, but she feared it would get worse. She had been watching around her, and began to see some of the same tell-tale bruises that she had learned to hide. Either all men beat their women, or her husband was already visiting other tents at night or in the jungle during the day.
The young girl assigned to serve her brought in breakfast silently and slowly left the tent. Charlotte ate silently as she dressed. Compared to her proper Victorian dress and upbringing, the women here looked absolutely primitive. You could see their legs, their arms, and most of their bosom! It was almost shameful for her to walk by them at first. And the way all the men looked at them, especially the men that were part of this trip. You’d have thought they had never seen a woman before. Of course, as long as it had been between trysts with her husband lately, she almost felt the same way about the local native men in the camp. She could feel her womanly urges hit her at times, but, being the proper woman that she was, she suppressed them well. After all, that was what her husband was supposedly for.
She finished eating and left her tent. She walked through the compound hoping to find something to occupy her time. She missed her home in England, her friends, her gardens. Her flower gardens were the envy of the county. And the groves of fruit trees were a favorite place to sit and read and reflect. She enjoyed nothing more as a child than the climb or walk among the tall trees to escape her brothers or her nanny. She looked around and saw all the huge trees near the compound and longed to explore the area, but Humphrey had insisted that she never leave the camp. She suspected it was to help hide his trysts with the local women, thought he claimed it was for her safety to keep her from getting lost in the jungle. They had also been given a warning about a mangrove forest nearby, referred to by the local woman as the forbidden grove. It was said that it was a dangerous area for women, as no woman who ever entered it ever came out again. Charlotte found the fact that men could go in and women could not was very suspicious. It mad her wonder what was actually in there. Wild animals? Poisonous exotic plants? Some form of jungle brothel for the men?
Today, she decided, she would sneak out of the camp for part of the day. ANYTHING would be better than the death by boredom she was experiencing here. As she laid alone in her cot for yet another night, she created her plan. He had hidden some of her breakfast on her and she slowly worked her way to the south end of the encampment. She found it incredibly easy as she sneaked off the site and slipped into the dense forest. She took her time as she headed south. She had hidden a compass away the night before and knew how to use it, learning at the side of her father, the admiral. She followed what appeared to be an old footpath.
Oh the sights she was seeing! These trees were larger than any she had ever seen. Huge, monstrous trees that were larger around than rooms in her house! Flowers the like of which she had never seen and wanted to take home to her gardens in England. It was so beautiful. Now, she was relaxing and enjoying herself. She took her time and explored. She saw orchids with vibrant colors that rivaled anything her mother had grown. The trees were so big, with no branches low enough to reach, not that her dress would allow her to climb up anyway. She thought about ripping off her skirt so she could, and then blushed at the idea of someone seeing her limbs like that. Then, she felt an unexpected thrill at the idea of being seen like that. She had enjoyed the attention her husband had initially given her, and could be as passionate as any other woman, but was embarrassed at times at the degree and intensity that her desire for passionate contact could be at times. One night, as she lay in her cot, she imagined being dressed as one of the native women, and felt a rush of excitement and passion at the idea now. But, she had to be proper and civilized among these common people. She kept moving deeper into the forest, fascinated by all she saw.
After about one hour into her walk, she became very thirsty. In her haste, she failed to grab a canteen for water. She listened as her father had taught her for the sounds of running water, but heard none. Not wanting to turn back, she decided to look deeper in the forest for a stream. With all this plant growth, she knew that water had to be somewhere nearby. In her haste to explore this grove, she missed a sign, carved into a tree trunk. It was written in the native tongue of the tribe, saying “Forbidden Forest, all womenfolk turn back!”
She walked deeper into the mangrove forest. These trees had always fascinated her, the fact that an entire ‘grove’ could be made up of just one tree. As she explored this mangrove forest, she saw something she had never seen on a mangrove before. She saw massive, beautiful lavender-colored flowers hanging from its limbs. Some were small, some larger than her, or so it appeared. It instantly made her homesick for the lavender growing in her gardens in England. And the fragrance they gave off, oh what a glorious aroma! She walked up closer, to look at a smaller blossom near the ground. She sniffed it and the sweetness of it nearly brought tears to her eyes. The smell was so good it was almost intoxicating. She slowly walked to what appeared to be the central trunk. She was elated to see a pool of water next to it. She walked up very carefully, knowing that beasts like tigers liked to lie in wait for prey near watering holes, and for signs of crocodiles. Seeing signs of none, she approached the pool.
When she reached the pools edge, she knelt on her knees, and then she stopped. She noticed no other signs of animal tracks near the pool. If the water was clear, fresh, and safe, there would be signs of other animals drinking there. As deep into the rain forest as she was, she could not take the chance, no matter how thirsty she was. She slowly stood up and walked backwards away from the pool. As she did, she tripped and fell to the ground. She looked down to see that she had tripped on a root sticking up from the ground. “Strange, I don’t remember seeing that root there when I walked up to the pool,” she thought to herself. She got back up on her feet.
“Drink…”
Charlotte quickly turned her head back and forth. The voice was clear, almost audible, but almost felt like it had originated in her head. She looked around slowly, to make sure one of the natives hadn’t followed her and was trying to trick her. She walked back towards the pool to look more. As she did, another root popped up from nowhere and caused her to trip and fall again. Her forward momentum caused her to fall into the pool of water.
Charlotte went under, and then popped her head above water. The pool must be fed from a spring, she surmised, for it felt very cool to her skin. Drops ran off her face across her lips and she could not avoid tasting it. It was cool, refreshing, and surprisingly, sweet. She slowly swam her way back to the edge. She climbed out and did what she could to shake the water off of her. As she tried to dry herself off, she noticed that it felt slightly thinker than water. Not much, but just enough to make it feel like a cross between water and syrup. Her garments were soaked and needed to be dried out. Knowing she would be alone, she started to undress. She placed her garments onto a low branch to dry, wearing only her corset, slip, and panties.
“By now, if the water was bad I’d begin to feel sick,” she reasoned, so she walked toward the pool again. Before she did, she sniffed more of the blooms. The fragrance felt even more intoxicating as she deeply inhaled. In fact, she felt a little woozy as she reached the pool. As she knelt to drink, she heard the voice again.
“Drink…”
She looked around again, shrugged and scooped the water to her mouth. It was so refreshing, feeling so cool and good as it trickled down her throat. She scooped up another handful and drank it as well. Then, she sat on the ground and looked around. This place looks so beautiful, she thought. Even more relaxing than Aunt Flora’s garden back in Coventry. She looked back at the pool. So clear. So inviting. Now that she was no longer thirsty, she felt relaxed. In fact, more relaxed than any time since they arrived.
“Drink again…”
This time, she figured it was her own thoughts telling her how dehydrated she was, so she scooped up more to drink. So cool and sweet to her tongue, she was beginning to feel almost giddy. She walked over to where an old log was laying next to the edge of the pool. She sat on it and dipped her toes into the pool. It felt so good she immersed her feet at well.
“Enter…Swim…”
Suddenly, the thought of a refreshing swim sounded delightful. There was no one around to see her, which was too bad. She would have loved to have seen her husband’s face if he discovered her in the pool. All the scenes from those naughty romance novels her friends shared with her came to mind as she removed her slip, placing with the rest of her clothes. She felt so delightfully wicked as she removed her corset. She breathed a big sigh of relief as it came off, her breasts free from their confining prison. She reached down. Did she dare? Why not? She could see no one around, so she slowly slid off her panties. Her body had not experienced childbirth yet, and she still held her girlish figure. She looked down and smiled at her nude reflection in the pool. With a naughty grin on her face, she waded in.
The water felt cool to her hot skin, but not chilly. She looked down and saw no fish or other creatures in the pool. All the better, less to fear that way. She swam and floated as the water felt so good on her skin. It was almost like it was absorbing into her skin, it felt that good. She swam and floated for a few minutes as her body become more and more relaxed. Oh to have a pool of water like this at home, she thought. Even without her husband’s attentions she could feel so good in a pool like this.
“Dive…”
She decided to go underwater to see what it looked like down there. She took a deep breath and went under. It was a small but very deep pool. The water was perfectly clear, and as she swam over to check out the edges, they felt less like mud or dirt and more like wood from the banyan grove. It felt very smooth, and not hewn. It was almost as if the pool was part of the tree. She explored more, looking over every part. It was a perfect oval pool, going down about 8 foot in depth. She swam to the bottom and felt many small branches and roots there. They were soft and feathery to the touch. She ran her fingers and feet through them. She stifled a giggle underwater as it tickled her feet. It almost felt like the roots were reaching out for her feet and toes. The motion of the water moved them between her toes and it tickled so bad she began to swim to the surface.
“Stay…”
That was when she noticed it. She did not feel short of breath. In fact, her lungs should be burning by now, but they felt normal, as if she was above water. She stopped her motion to the surface. It was as if she was a mermaid in her own lagoon. She opened her mouth and swallowed water. She felt no panic of suffocation as she took it in. She decided to swim to the surface. As she swam…she saw a branch stick out from the side of the pool. She brushed by it as she sought the surface. She felt its leaves touch her, the same feather-like feel of the roots below. She felt herself giggle as it ran past her arms, shoulders, and belly. Part of her wanted to grab it and do it again, but she thought better. As she passed it by, it almost felt like it was trying to grab her ankles and feet as she passed it.
She reached the surface, and began to breath easily. No urgency to her lungs. All she knew was that the water felt good. Too good to climb out of yet. She knelt down and drank more. The water made her feel so good. So relaxed. It was like it was soaking into every pore of her body. She hadn’t felt this good in years.
“Join me…”
She decided she needed to get out and dry off. She slowly swam to the edge of the pool. As she got to the edge, she felt more roots as she walked up the side. She giggled as they rubbed her soles and toes, some almost trying to curl around and grasp her toes. It tickled, but it felt so good that she at one point just moved her feet up and down in place, as if she was playing with the roots and they were playing with her. She didn’t even try to stifle the giggles as the ticklish sensations moved all over her feet. She finally stepped completely out of the pool and walked towards her clothes to see how dry they were.
“Sniff…”
On her way to them, she spied a large blossom from the tree that she didn’t remember seeing near it before. She just has to take another smell. She leaned her face into it and inhaled deeply. This time, as she inhaled, she got even woozier. She laughed and inhaled again. She hadn’t felt this good since the time she had too much wine at Lady McAllister’s Harvest Festival. She took a step back and ran her hands over the petals. They felt so soft, softer than anything she had ever felt. She leaned in and rubbed her cheeks against them. They felt lighter and more feathery than the leaves underwater. She sniffed the blossom again, its intoxicating aroma making her feel so relaxed.
“Touch…”
Suddenly she got a deliciously wicked idea. She reached for the branch the blossom was on and pulled it to her. It came to her quite easily, almost as if it had wanted to be moved or moved willing. She ran her hands over the bark. It was as smooth as the banister of the main house. The leaves as she rubbed them between her fingers were as soft as they felt underwater. She lowered the branch more and rubbed them on her belly. Shivers of pleasure hit her as she felt them stroke her skin. He husband’s hands had never felt so good. She did it across her shoulders and it felt just as exquisite. Tiny shots of pleasure entered her body with every stroke of the leaves on her skin. She ran them on her legs, back, and neck. The sensations were nothing like she had felt since, well, ever to be blunt about it.
She spun some of the thin branches around her body like a boa or scarf. Then, she slowly slid the leaves across her body. It felt like dozens of soft, feathery fingers caressing her at once. Then, a sudden erotic jolt went through her. She looked and saw that some feathers had grazed over her derriere. She let out a wicked giggle as she moved her hands to remove them from such an ‘improper’ spot. As she pulled at them, they stroked her bottom more, making the feeling even more intense. “Oh, you naughty little leaves, that feels so wickedly good, I may leave you there!” she exclaimed to no one, except maybe herself. Then a warm breeze blew through, causing all the leaves to rustle. Their movement nearly made Charlotte fall to the ground in giggles, the ticklish sensations so new, so overwhelming to her.
She unwound herself. As she did, she was almost disappointed by the lack of sensations on her skin. She thought about the leaves on her bottom. As she thought more about it, a wide grin covered her face. If they felt so deliciously wicked there, how did they feel on other, more ‘wicked’ spots? She took the branch and considered plucking off some leaves. Then, for some reason she decided that would be cruel to the tree, so she positioned herself so she could manipulate the branches. She looked down at herself and hesitated. She would have some stories to tell the “Ladies Literature Society” when she returned to England! She moved the branch across her bosom. She gasped in delight as she felt the leaves touch one of her most delicate of places. She watched her nipples swell instantly from the sensations the leaves created. This feeling was beyond wicked, it was divine. She stood there for several minutes that felt like hours moving the leaves on her tender breasts. Once, she just held the branch still, and the leaves felt like feathers in a lover’s hands as they rustled against her in the breeze. Although, oddly, she felt no breeze on her legs.
She felt giddy still as she pulled the branch away from her, the sensations reaching the point where they were about to cause her to do totally embarrassing and unladylike things to herself. She wanted, needed to smell a blossom again. She did, the heady aroma now totally intoxicating her. She got a naughty thought and leaned in deeper so that her breasts fell among the blossom petals. She shrieked in delight as the petals felt even better on her skin than the leaves! Suddenly her mind filled with the fantasy of rolling in a bed or tub filled with these exquisite petals.
“Walk to me…”
She felt the need to drink again, in spite of the fact that she was no longer thirsty. As she walked toward the pool, a breeze seemed to cause branches to blow into her. Funny, though, once again, she felt no breeze. But, once the branches hit her, she was engulfed by a huge swarm of leaves. Shrieks, giggles, and moans flowed from her as her naked body felt them all over at once. The totality of the pleasure from it overloaded her mind, as she just slowly turned inside the branch, as if the smaller branches were reaching out to specifically touch her, it felt so good. Then, a leaf brushed her womanhood, swollen from all the new sensations hitting her. She cried out as it brushed her clitoris and her gates. Only her husband had ever touched her there, and then only rarely. Her knees started to buckle and it felt as if only the branches were holding her up.
“Come to me, my lover, I have prepared a place for you…”
This time she could not avoid the voice. “Who…who are you?” She moaned out as she felt herself released from, or was it by, the branches. As she looked forward, she saw what must have been the largest blossom on the tree, as it was, could it be, being lowered down towards her?
“I am the tree as you see me. But I am more than a tree. I am a dairaoi, the spirit who dwells in this tree. I have been waiting for one as you to join me, to give pleasure to, to drink my nectar as you have. Please, come and rest in this blossom-bed, prepared just for you…” the voice in her head told her. Then she felt the branches near her gently wrap around her and try to coax her toward the blossom.
“Oh…b-but..this…cannot be! This must be a dream…a hallucination from the water or the fragrance of the flowers. You are just a treeheehee…you canhahant talk…” she tried to say as the leaves tickled her bottom and legs, coaxing her toward the blossom.
“No, I am very real. The natives here are too simple to understand, so they ban their women from my grove. But you…you understand the longing. You want my touch as much as I desire to touch you…” On those words, the branches gently engulfed her more, the leaves stroking her all over. Charlotte began to giggle and moan again. The siren-like call to her was hard to resist. She know how soft that blossom would be, better than any feather bed. But, how could a tree talk? “I can give you pleasures not known to any woman of this age, just come to me…” it called to her.
A small blossom lowered near her face. She could smell it, but this time she tried to avoid it, wanting not to lose her senses from its heady, intoxicating aroma. The blossom them moved in front of her, and the center of it exploded, shooting out pollen in the air before Charlotte. Before she could stop herself, she inhaled the pollen. Almost instantly, she became relaxed, as calm as she had become from sniffing the blossoms earlier. The blossom bed looked so inviting and she was so tired now from all the walking and swimming. Then, wicked thoughts invaded again as she imagined all those soft, tickly petals on her bare skin. She walked as in a hypnotic state toward the large blossom, bigger than the bed in her husband’s chambers. Vines wrapped around her ankles and wrists, gently lifting her to the blossom and laid her upon it.
She gasped as she felt the soft petals on her legs, back and bottom. “Sooo nice…” she moaned as she laid back to rest. She watched as the blossom enclosed around her, covering her like a blanket, only her head outside of it. She turned to her side, giggling and wiggling as the petals stroked all of her skin as she moved. She kept giggling as she felt the petals against her feet, much like the roots at the edge of the pool. She tried to hold still but she could not. Every time she changed position, the petals tickled her all over. She moaned in ecstasy as they stroked her thighs and breasts. She tried to cover her bosom and womanhood, but the tinier of the petals seemed to work around her.
She thrashed more, but it only made it more intense. Her laughter started to take over as it felt like the petals were actually stroking her, even when she laid still. It felt so good, so glorious, so wicked, so horrible. She had never felt pleasure such as this and she couldn’t handle anymore. She tried to work her hands up to her head, but the blossom was closed to tightly, as only her head and shoulders were outside. She then tried to cover her breasts and womanhood with her hands, but something held them up high now and blocked their movement. She could feel petals on her swelling nipples. She felt fire between her legs as the petals teased her nub and her swelling gates. Not even her husband’s feeble attempts to pleasure her had awakened this much fire in her loins, and as a proper English woman of character, it was more than she was prepared for.
“What are you…doing…to meheeheeheeheeheehee…” she cried out to the dairaoi.
“You are the first in over a hundred years to allow me to pleasure them. I will give you pleasure beyond your dreams. Pleasures that will cause you to beg for more…to stay…as the women of hold who tended me…back in the ancient times when the women would come here just for my pleasures…”
Charlotte felt the fire in her loins spread to other parts of her body. She could feel her nipples swollen larger than they had ever felt except from her own too brief touches. She thought she was going insane as thunders of pleasure cracked over her. It was so maddening, but she felt herself enjoying it and craving more. As if it could read her thoughts, the petals intensified their play. She felt her body begin to tremble, feeling like a boiling pot with a tight lid ready to explode. Then, just as suddenly, the explosion hit her like a stack of crates. She felt her body tense up, then an explosion of sheer hot pleasure erupted like a volcano in her loins, quickly spreading all over her. She shouted, shrieked and moaned as the riptides of orgasm struck, a sensation so new to her that she was scared and enthralled at the same time. Then, she felt her body relax as the waves subsided. She looked around for something, someone to look at, to speak to. “What…what was that…” she whispered, unable to do anything beyond that.
“I have given you the gift of completed pleasure. Something you have never felt before. Once you’ve had a taste, you’ll be satisfied with nothing else again…” The blossom tightened around her, but she felt no fear, as it felt like an affectionate embrace, not a threatening crush.
As it embraced her, she giggled more, as her newfound state had her more sensitive than before. She began to move inside the blossom, wanting more of this new feeling. As she did, she felt the blossom loosen its grip on her. It opened up, and the sides of the blossom moved to the center and stroked her, as a large hand would caress her. The giggling and wiggling were instantaneous. She wanted to hold still but could not as the blossom caressed every inch of her body. She felt something on her ankle, and saw one of the stamens was wrapped around it. She then saw the other one wrap the other ankle. Before she could react, two other stamens held her wrists tight, as if she was tied to the blossom. “What…what it this…am I a prisoner?”
“No, my lover. You are no prisoner, I seek your safety and fuller pleasures…look to the side…” As she did, she saw to her amazement she was several hundred feet in the air. Any movement too far would be a deadly fall. Now she understood. This tree, this dairaoi, did care for her. Perhaps even more than Humph...Humph…suddenly, she could not remember his name as she felt a sensation on her nipples. Two more stamens were rubbing her there. It felt so wonderful, so exquisite. She arched her back to push into them to feel more. They stroked, and it almost felt like, too her shameful delight, as if they were licking her there. She closed her eyes and relaxed, the erotic joy flooding her mind. Then she gasped as she felt something on her womanhood. A new stamen was rubbing there. She felt herself becoming wet there, something that only happened when she and her ‘literature’ friends discussed the naughty books they read. She tried to open her legs wider and felt her body rub against it. She wanted that fire again. She didn’t care how shamefully she acted or moved to get it.
“Now, my lover, time to become complete. It is time we become one…”
She heard his sweet, siren voice and nodded. Her mind in a dream-like state, nearing orgasm again. She looked down and saw the pistle of the blossom. All the petals had moved away from it. Fear of recognition hit her as she sensed what was coming. The stamens pulled her toward the pistle, closing the blossom around her as before. But this time she did not struggle. As she felt the pistle against her gates, she knew one thing for sure. Her husband’s chambers had never pleasured her like this…
When Charlotte awoke, it was twilight. She was lying on an open blossom, this one covered with a soft animal fur that did not tickle as the petals. She knew it was a gift from her lover, her dairaoi. She chose to call him Dai for short. She rubbed the wood of the branch she was on and kissed it. She no longer felt any shame or trepidation over being naked up in his branches. The day and night has completed her as a woman. She wanted to live up here in his branches forever. The pool was a mixture of the nectar from his blossoms and sap, which sustained him and even could feed her. She needed and wanted nothing more than to stay here. Dai had lifted her clothes up to her, but she had declined to dress herself. No one else was around, so she felt no need, and no shame. She did, however, feel the desire for a swim. She easily climbed and slid down to the ground. Just as she was about to jump in, she heard something that stopped her cold.
“Charlotte!!!!”
She turned around and saw Humphrey in the distance, coming that way. He was sure to find her, and take her away from her Dai. She wanted to climb up but had no time. She saw her clothes being lowered to her, and she grabbed them and hid behind some branches as she quickly dressed.
Humphrey approached the grove. He has seen the prints on the ground that only her shoes could have made, so he knew she had been here. When he found her, he would give her what for. Wandering off, lost was costing him time. Time from hunting and time from the young native girl who had been giving him pleasures beyond belief since they had arrived. He was mad, and she would get the full brunt of it.
Then, he saw her. She was just sitting there, at the foot of a central trunk of this grove, near what appeared to be a pool. His temper flared more as he wondered how long she had just been sitting here, wasting his valuable time. “CHARLOTTE! What in God’s name do you think you are doing out here??”
She slowly stood to her feet. “Ahh, Humphrey darling. Isn’t this a beautiful grove? Such large trunks and beautiful blossoms. I just fell in love with this spot and lost all track of time.”
“Come here this instant!” he bellowed. She wasn’t lost or scared. She had stayed here WILLINGLY. In the FORBIDDEN groves! So forbidden, the native men has stayed back. “It is late; we have to leave now for the camp. Come on!”
“Please, Humphrey, darling. Give me a few moments to say goodbye to this lovely grove. I just love it here so much. So much I want to return tomorrow…”
Humphrey watched her. She stood up and rubbed her hands all over the trunk of the tree. But, it was not a normal rub. It looked different somehow, almost as if she was caressing it. The way she used to caress him. Nah, it couldn’t be. Then she kissed the trunk. Suddenly, he remembered the legends his native concubine had told him. How women in the groves refused to leave it, and how they yearned to return to that grove above all else. He also noticed something else. The way she moved was different. Even the way her blouse and corset covered her was different. She was showing herself below the neckline. Now he knew what was up. She had met someone here. Some native had taken her, or perhaps she took him? Either way, he was not going to be cuckolded out here.
He marched forward and grabbed his arm. “Where is he?” he demanded.
“Who?” she replied in fear. The fire in his eyes was only there the times he had beaten her. Certainly a simpleton such as him could not know about Dai.
“You know very well who. The man who was with you. A man can tell when a woman has been had by another. Show me where he is, now!” He lifted his rifle, cocking it. The click echoed in the grove.
“How dare you? How dare you accuse me of bedding another man! I have had no other man in my bed, my loins besides you!” she said as she glared back at him. She slapped him across the face, insulted. It was true; Humphrey had been the only man. Dai was no man. But, to her mind and body, he was so much more.
“LIAR!” he roared, and then he backhanded her across the face. She fell down hard on her side. “I can see the signs of sex on you. The lingering of ecstasy is still in your eyes. The way you are holding your hips, the way your bodice is open are not your normal way. I can tell when a woman has been with a man…”
“I’m sure you can, since you have bedded so many of them, before AND after our vows!” she shouted with rage before she could stop herself. Now it was in the open for the first time. Fear overtook her as she knew it could also be the last, with no one here to protect her. She tried to get up, but only saw the rifle barrel in her face.
“So, you know more than I thought. They said you were too smart for me to fool. No matter. Once I pull the trigger, I can make your body look like a tiger attacked you. Then I can finally get ALL of your family’s fortune and no longer have to suffer you as my wife. Now, where is he? So I can get rid of any witnesses. TELL ME!”
“There is no man! I have not been with any man!” she cried out, fearing her fate.
“No ‘man’ you say…you keep emphasizing that. Is he just a boy? A young lad? Giving a young native boy first tastes of silk? Such a vile wicked woman you are!” Humphreys’ rage was at a peak. “Just pull the trigger and be rich” he thought to himself.
Just as he started, a huge branch fell in front of his face, blocking his vision. Charlotte took the chance and tried to run for it. Humphrey cleared himself from the branches and pursued her. She managed to swing up on a branch and quickly climbed upward, aided by foot and hand holds created by Dai as she climbed. Humphrey tried to follow her, but his massive girth prevented him from doing so. He went back for his gun and ran back to the spot. By now, she had climbed upward at an alarming rate. It was as if she was a monkey, or as if the tree was helping her. He shook his head and took aim. He fired off two rounds, both missing her head by mere inches. He tried to fire off one more round, but his rifle jammed. Now, she was out of range.
Charlotte looked down upon her husband. How long would he pursue her? Would he get natives that could climb as well as she was? “Oh Dai, what to I do? He wants to kill me…”
“You can hide in my grove forever, my lover…no one can harm you as long as I li… AHHHHH” His voice was like a shout of agony in her head. “Fire…he’s burning me…with fire…help…meeee…” was all she heard. She saw his branches starting to whither. She quickly saw the hasty bonfire Humphrey had built to smoke or burn her out. She landed quietly on top of him, trying to knock him down. He quickly threw her off and stood over her.
“You’ll destroy the entire grove! What are you doing?” she cried.
“Easy. I knew it would flush you out. Plus, a fire will destroy any evidence of how I kill you.”
“You’re a beast!”
“Yes, soon to be a very rich beast.” He picked her up and carried her near the trunk, the fire blazing away at the trunk nearest the pool. He picked up a knife from his pack, the cold steel reflecting the orange of the flames. “Yes…this will do nicely. Quick and clean…” he muttered. One quick slit and it would be all over, he thought.
Charlotte only had one chance. When Humphrey turned his back to her to look at the knife, she struck. She shoved her foot with all her might at his right knee. He had injured it in rugby as a youth and it often gave him problems. Humphrey bellowed and crumpled as her foot nailed the weak tendons of his knee. Before he could get up, she reached for the nearest thing she could find. She grabbed the rifle by the barrel and swung it like a cricket bat. The stock of the gun caught him square in the side of his head and knocked him cold. As he fell forward with a thud, she hit him once, twice, three times in the back of the head. She stood over him, panting hard from the adrenaline rush of mortal combat. When she knew he was out cold, she instantly kicked away the bonfire, using the kettle from Humphrey’s pack to scoop liquid from the pool to quench the flames. She wept for joy as the last of the flames died out.
“More…to my trunk…the burns…” she heard Dai say faintly. She obeyed and watched in amazement as the burns faded away with every splash of liquid. When it was done, she sat there, weeping for joy over saving Dai, fearful over what to do with Humphrey and the aftermath. In a moment, she knew what she had to do.
Charlotte walked out onto the veranda of her plantation house. It overlooked the Malaysian valley at the perfect angle to enjoy the sunrise and sunset. It was a beautiful home, with all the comforts of England combined with the tropical atmosphere of the region. It had been 5 years since Humphrey’s death. Everyone thought it was so tragic how he had fallen off that cliff face trying to find his missing wife, who had returned on her own to the camp site. His body had been found and identified, and buried in the family plot in England. All of his estate went to her, and all were shocked when she sold her property in England to her cousin, declaring that her love for Humphrey demanded that she move to Malaysia, where his spirit still looked for her, and would find her there waiting for him.
As soon as the estate went probate, she packed up all she wanted to save and sailed for Malaysia. Buying the property was easy. The legend of the Forbidden Grove was strong, so no natives wanted it. The Governor of the region was an old shipmate of her late father, the admiral. She bought all the property around the mangrove forest. She lived mainly in the big house, but would spend nights in the grove in a small cabin she had built next to a natural spring in the main mangrove forest. She would not allow any male servants or gentleman callers, of which the rich widow had many, to go there. On occasion, she would bring a female servant or two; however, this would happen once, maybe twice a year. She would not tell anyone why, and the servants told of nothing but taking care of Lady Collin’s daily needs. They did, however, always say it with gleam in their eyes.
Lady Collins spent the rest of her life there in the valley, rarely leaving. When she died, she bequeathed her title and her property to one of her nieces. To this day, the property is always inherited by a female member of the family. When asked why, the Lady would say it was because Charlotte would want it that way…
