This story was created during a roleplaying session with another redditor this summer. I copied it out of the chat and rewrote it into a story. Unfortunately I lost the chat and the contact to the redditor who co-created this wonderful thing with me. Please reach out to me if you read this. I'd love to give you your due credit... and have a try for another story.

A sacrifice to the wood spirit

There is a village on the edge of a large and very old forest. It is probably as old as the forest itself, but nobody knows for sure these days.

There is nothing special about this village. Despite its remote location, the people are no more or less modern than in other villages in this country. Some people work as farmers, others commute to larger towns and villages nearby. They work in factories, hospitals, schools and offices. Of course, as is common in remote villages, some people have left the village for good to settle in the big cities. But not very many. There seems to be a sense of belonging and connection among the people who grew up and live in this place by the forest, which is probably the most unusual thing about this place. Some say that this sense of community remains so strong because the people are open, generous and tolerant. Others put it down to their strong traditions and communal celebrations. Of course, some will put it down to blood and genes. There is probably some truth in all of these explanations. What should never be forgotten, however, is that the village is protected by the ancient wood spirit that reigns over the forest.

No one has ever seen it, though some say they've caught a glimpse or a flash. And yet it couldn't be more real. It's in the relationship between the village and the forest. No logging company or sawmill has ever been allowed to set foot in the area. The area was protected as one of the first nature reserves. Some scientists and hikers go into the forest, some villagers pick mushrooms. Otherwise, the forest belongs to itself, to the animals, plants and all the other creatures

and to the ancient spirit, of course.

It doesn't have a name. When it is mentioned, people simply refer to it as the spirit. He is not the subject of everyday conversation. He is talked about when people gather around the annual Easter bonfire, or on a drunken night. And, of course, in children's stories.

There is only one occasion when the existence of the ghost comes out of the realm of stories and speculation.

That is the day of the sacrifice.

 Once every 49 years, the spirit demands that a woman be sacrificed to him. The sacrifice is to take place on the night of the full moon in the month of June. The woman must be of childbearing age and fertile on the night of the sacrifice.

 She is chosen in an ancient ritual and then taken to a clearing in the forest. There she is tied to an old beech tree to be ravaged and bred by the spirit of the forest.

That day has come again.

As soon as it is completely dark the ceremony begins. It's eerily dark and quiet - there are no cooking fires or candles lit because the entire population is in a silent, murmuring mass around the bonfire at the edge of the village, which is being stoked into wilder and wilder flames. Still, there was just enough light to make out the shapes and outlines of the trees beyond.

I am being led to the waiting priest.

As I approach, there is a louder murmur from the villagers, and I notice that the trees and branches in the forest begin to move, swaying as if stirred by a steady wind, though the air remains eerily still.

I was standing in front of the priest in a simple white dress. He gave me a final blessing. I held out my hands and a rope is tied around my wrists. The priest and a few selected older women lead me away from the murmuring and singing mass of the villagers. Quietly, we leave the fires and the people. We walk along a dark path into the forest. When we reach the clearing I am being led to an old beech tree. Without speaking I lean against the smooth bark and raise my arms, so they can tie me to the tree with a simple rope.

The priest and the women stand before me, whisper their last blessing and walk back towards the village.

I am alone.

My eyes begin to adjust to the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the canopy above. The rustling of leaves mingled with the soft, deliberate crunch of the priest's footsteps, joined by the quieter, steadier steps of the women. I watch as their figures begin to blur, dissolving into vague shapes and shuffling shadows that melt into the darkness of the forest. The sound of their steps fade until there is nothing - no movement, no voice, no presence. I am completely alone.

Minutes pass, and there's a kind of serenity in these moments. Maybe even reassurance.

The air is completely silent. The village seems further away than ever. These woods I used to know so well seem somehow still and strange.

The shadows of the trees in the clearing seem to move, to bend, a broad trunk seems to move, to widen somehow, before another distinct shadow separates clearly from the trunk. It looks like a spindly tangle of branches. It's moving, coming closer. As I watch, my eyes straining to make sense of the shifting shadows, I see it change again. The indistinct mass begins to coalesce into something more recognisable, more familiar. It takes on the shape of a man - a towering figure, broad and massive, with a presence that's overwhelming even from a distance. My breath catches as the figure approaches, each step deliberate, each movement commanding. Yet his features remain elusive, shrouded in shifting light and shadow, teasing at the edge of recognition but never fully revealing themselves.

I feel my heart racing. The stories were all true.

I was never quite sure until this moment.

But there it is. The presence of the spirit. Ancient and indescribable, though in the form of what might be called a man.

My eyes focus on the approaching form, a large figure with the build of a man, yet my mind struggles to reconcile what I see. It still looks like a tree, its shape changing with every movement, like a trick of the light. As he comes closer, I can make out thick, powerful arms, solid legs rooted to the earth, and broad, towering shoulders. When the moonlight glances off its surface, it seems to shimmer like smooth bark, but when I blink or look closer, the texture changes to pale, moonlit flesh. His dark hair cascades to his shoulders, moving subtly with his steps, though at first glance he resembles leaves caught in a gentle breeze - until I blink again and see the truth beneath the shifting illusion.

 There's a rising energy. I can hear your breathing, even from a distance that should have swallowed the sound.

At first it blends in with the surrounding silence, whispering through the air like a gentle breeze brushing the leaves. But as you get closer, the sound changes - steady and deliberate, resonating with a deep, slow rhythm. It's no longer just a sound; it's a presence, palpable and undeniable, filling the space around me with its weight and intent.

And I feel your breath on every part of my body, moving over my hair, my face, down my neck and further down to my chest - brushing over my breasts - like the softest touch imaginable.

At the same time I feel your air moving down my feet and legs to my core. Warming and soothing - an energy I have never felt before. Alive, cool and hot all at the same time. My chest is heaving. I am spread out for you and ready to be taken. I am your sacrifice - human, alive and fertile.

Your presence surrounds me, overwhelming in its immensity. Even before you're close enough to touch, it feels like you're already here, with me, above me, around me - a force greater than the form you've taken. It presses against me, intangible yet undeniable, and I can feel it in the air, in the space that seems to bend and shift under your weight.

When I look at your face, it's inscrutable, impossible to fully understand. As it shifts into something more familiar, more recognisable, I see a simple and unyielding determination etched into your features. Hard lines shape your expression, firm and resolute, giving no hint of your deeper intent.

One of your hands moves to my neck and at first the texture is rough, like bark pressing against my skin. But then it shifts, becoming warm, the firm grip of strong fingers. The sensation sends shivers down my spine as you hold me there, firm and unyielding, your touch amplifying the quickening of my pulse beneath your palm. I can feel my heart racing, its rhythm increasing as if in response to you.

Your other hand moves lower, resting firmly just below my stomach, just above my womb. The touch sends a spark through me, an electrical charge that radiates outwards - a strange sensation that turns into a sharper, deeper feeling, almost pain, but not quite. The intensity makes me gasp, my body tensing under your hand. Then you let out a low, primal moan, a sound that echoes through the clearing. It's a content, almost reverent moan, and I know you can sense it - my fertility, my willingness, something elemental and undeniable within me.

I have never felt like this before. My blood is rushing through my veins and I can feel it like never before. It flows to and from my heart, to my neck where you touched me first, and then to my reproductive organs. Somehow you touch my womb through my skin. I feel warmth spreading, turning into an intense heat. You ignite my womb and my ovaries - it is as if you are taking a ripe egg from me and gently guide it into my fallopian tubes - preparing me for our union.

Your body presses against mine, its presence overwhelming, though it is still only your hands that are in direct contact with me. Those hands begin to move, exploring, their touch deliberate and firm. I feel your fingers tug at the hem of my dress, pulling it up with ease, gathering the fabric around my hips and holding it in place. The cool air brushes against my bare skin, heightening every sensation.

Then I feel it - another touch. Something rising, thick and insistent, sliding up my leg with deliberate pressure. The realisation sends a jolt through me and I know this is the beginning. I've been prepared, told what to expect, but the reality is something else entirely. I feel my wrists tense slightly against the tight bonds holding me in place as your presence deepens, becomes undeniable.

The pressure between my legs grows harder, firmer - the undeniable shape of your woody flesh pressing insistently against me. It's relentless, the weight of it demanding my attention, igniting something deep within me. Your massive hand wraps around my thigh and with effortless strength you pull me closer, positioning me exactly where I need to be for what is about to happen.

I feel your immense strength towering over me. I feel small and soft against your smooth, bark-like skin.

You separate my legs by lifting one of my thighs and I feel myself losing contact with the ground.

Your cock presses against my wetness.

 For a moment I forget to breathe until your lips - cool as leaves - meet mine. And you breathe into me - through my mouth and into my airways. It spreads all over my body. A humming comes from my throat in response, joining with your growl.

Your breath flows into me, cool and deep, filling my lungs with something more than air - something alive, something that seems to weave itself into my very being. Our lips press together, tight at first, then parting to deepen the connection. The kiss is consuming, all-encompassing, drawing me further into the moment, into you.

There's a sudden tug on my wrists as you lift my other leg and for a brief moment I feel the strain of my body shifting against the restraints. Then comes relief as your strong hands hold me, supporting my weight effortlessly as you press me firmly against the tree. The rough bark bites lightly into my back, grounding me in the midst of all that is overwhelming my senses.

You pull your face back just enough for me to meet your eyes. In them I see not just a face, but something more - an intense curiosity, as if you were studying me, understanding me on a deeper level than I knew existed. But behind that curiosity is something more demanding, more primal. It sends a shiver down my spine, anticipation tensing every muscle.

Your hips dip slightly, a subtle but deliberate movement

 and then I feel it - the slow, deliberate thrust of you into me.

 The sensation is overwhelming, every inch stretching and filling me as you claim me with a purpose that feels inevitable and unstoppable. My breath catches and the world narrows to the rhythm of your body and mine, connected in a way I can barely comprehend but feel in every part of me.

I am spread as I have never been spread by a normal man before. My wet and hot vagina welcomes you as if I had been shaped for the purpose of being penetrated by your hard, smooth cock. I am suspended in the air, wedged between the real bark of the tree and your fleshy wooden form.

You continue to press into me, slowly but relentlessly, your unyielding length pushing deeper with each deliberate movement. My body stretches to accommodate you, each inch both overwhelming and impossibly filling, until I feel you pressing firmly against the very limits of me, the tip of you meeting my cervix with a pressure that takes my breath away.

You exhale deeply, the sound resonating between us as your breath flows into me, filling me not only physically but in every way imaginable. I gasp, my chest heaving as I try to take in the sensation of being so utterly complete.

Then you begin to withdraw, slowly pulling out all the way, leaving me momentarily empty and longing for more. The next moment you slide back in, more gently this time, my body adjusting, the movement lighter but no less intense. Your lips meet mine again, the connection igniting something raw and instinctive as you move inside me, each movement deliberate and consuming.

When you are all the way in, I feel filled as never before. I pulsate around you, incredibly aroused.

I feel a sense of disappointment as you pull your cock out of me. I cry out against your lips as you push yourself back into me. You begin to move inside me with long, strong, slow thrusts. Our lips never part, sharing the air and the vibrations of the sounds coming from our throats. I press my body against yours. I long to feel my skin pressed against yours. I want my hands free to touch you with my hands.

A sharp crack echoes through the clearing as a branch breaks and I feel the ropes that are binding my wrists slacken. My arms fall free and I collapse completely into your arms. My body surrenders to the strength of your hold, falling and twisting as you gently guide me to the cool, dewy forest floor. The moss beneath me feels soft and damp, grounding me amidst the overwhelming sensations coursing through me.

You untie the rope from my wrists with an ease that feels almost reverent, then your hands move with purpose, spreading my knees apart. Your presence looms over me as you kneel between my legs, your massive form dwarfing the moonlight. Then, with a deep, resonant moan - like the creaking of countless ancient branches - you thrust yourself back into me. The sensation is overwhelming, every inch of your deliberate motion igniting something raw and primal in me.

Your hands move with urgency, pulling at the fabric of my dress, tearing the thin material away from my chest. Cool air brushes against my bare skin as your hand cups my breasts firmly, kneading them with possessive strength. Your other hand grips my hip, holding me steady against the powerful rhythm of your thrusts.

The clearing fills with the sound of our bodies meeting, the wet, rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh mingling with the rustling of leaves and the faint hum of the forest. Each movement feels like a claim, an assertion of your dominance and purpose and I surrender to the intensity of it all, every part of me opening to you.

With my hands free, I throw them around your shoulders. I press my whole body against yours as you take me hard with your cock.

I tremble and writhe under your thrusts. A growing sensation builds in my cunt and womb. All consuming heat. My womb opens as you thrust against my cervix with strokes of increasing intensity.

The air around us begins to tremble, vibrating with a palpable energy that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere. The pale moonlight above us wavers, shimmering like a mirage as you pull me closer to your body. My face presses against your shoulder, the warmth of your skin and the strength of your hold grounding me even as the world around us seems to shift and distort.

You thrust deep and hard into me and I gasp as the force of it sends a shockwave through my body. The ground beneath us trembles, as if the earth itself is reacting to your presence. Around the clearing, the trees bend and twist impossibly, their branches reaching out as if recoiling from the immense energy gathering in the air. A whirlwind breeze stirs, pushing inwards towards us, swirling and chaotic.

I am your vessel, my body arching beneath you, overwhelmed by a sensation that is equal parts pain and pleasure, consuming and primal. With each push you come more undone, ravenous. I feel the pressure building. Your cock is engorging, hardening even more as you thrust inside of me. Your eyes are fixed on mine with an expression that is demanding and yet full of whorship. A groan escapes from you and it deepens with every stroke. Your life energy, thousands and thousands of years is throbbing inside of me and is finding its release in an explosive, almost violent last deep push

Then I feel it - a flood of warmth spreading through me as you begin to release. Your seed pours into me, the squeeze and pressure undeniable, filling me with a force that feels both physical and spiritual. You push me back slightly, one hand pressing firmly against my womb and I feel it - the sheer intensity of your essence surging through me, past the tight barrier of my cervix. It fills me completely, deeply, unstoppably, a flood of your spirit pouring into me, claiming me, transforming me, leaving me utterly overwhelmed.

You hold still deep inside and pump me full of your spiritual essence, pushing me over the edge. An intense climax washes over me, making me squeeze around you - as if to encourage you to spill even more seed into my womb. I thrash and shake violently as you remain very still. One hand holding me in place, the other pressing down on my womb. My body shakes and trembles under the weight, my mind unable to hold on to anything but the sheer magnitude of what has just happened.

I feel your body begin to withdraw, the slow, deliberate movement of you pulling away leaving an emptiness in its wake. Gently you push me back as you release me, lowering me to the soft ground. My body sinks into the mossy forest floor, trembling and exhausted, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

The air is cool and still.

The forest begins to settle around us. The trees, which had bent and twisted unnaturally, now stand tall and still. The shimmering, watery distortion in the air fades, the strange, otherworldly pressure released, as if the forest itself were exhaling. The sounds return, soft and familiar - the rustling of leaves, the low hum of insects and the crackle of your footsteps as you rise and begin to walk away. These sounds grow fainter, quieter, until they disappear completely, leaving me alone under the vast, moonlit canopy.

The forest feels familiar again, as it always has - its silence, its stillness, its dark and welcoming embrace. And yet, deep inside, I feel something new. A warmth I have never known before, a ball of energy nestled deep inside me. It pulsates gently, growing, changing me already and I know I will never be the same. This forest, your forest, feels like ours now, and within me the seed of this union is taking root, alive and undeniable.

Everything is peaceful and quiet. I am completely worn out and exhausted. My body is naked and spread out on the mossy wooden floor. I can feel your seed joining with my ripe egg deep within my womb, igniting the spark of life within me. Now nestling in my womb to grow and fill my belly.

I fall asleep protected by your forest. Knowing that I will always have your protection - me and the offspring of my sacrifice.