Lynn's Wilder Week #7 - Lynn's Forest Walk Adventure

by Arthur Saxon
arthursaxon@zombieworld.com

Lynn thought for a moment.  There was no way of knowing when Martin might be back, so she had to make alternative plans.  She knew that there was a river that ran alongside the fields behind Martin’s house – perhaps she could find a reasonably secluded spot where she could get herself clean.

She walked down the lane bordering the cluster of houses surrounding Martin’s, then climbed over the fence into the nearest field.  It was here that she and Julie had, just last Sunday, got themselves covered with cow poo by standing behind the cows just as they were lifting their tails.  Lynn sighed – it had been a wonderful day and she intended to repeat the experience sometime.

But for now she made her way along the edge of the field, heading downhill towards the river.  Beyond the water a steep bank rose towards a forest wherein, perhaps, she could wait unseen until the time when Julie arrived home.

Lynn climbed over another fence and then climbed down through a cluster of ferns towards the river.  Next to the water the bank was much flatter and composed of a coarse silt, and here Lynn disrobed, shielded from prying eyes by the high banks and dense foliage that enshrouded them.  As she pulled her poo-filled panties away from her crotch, she felt a moment’s regret – the sensation of the sticky material pressing into her pussy had been wonderful – but she knew she could not keep them messy forever.  She pulled them off and dunked them in the river, washing them out thoroughly.  She then gave her skirt and shirt the same treatment.

Naked, she waded out into the river (even at its deepest point it rose no further than mid-thigh) and proceeded to wash her pussy, bottom and legs.  Before long she was completely clean, and rather cold – despite the time of year the water was somewhat chilly.

Wringing out her wet clothes, she put them back on and then waded across to the far side of the river.  Getting out was a little tricky, but she managed to scale the bank with the help of various tree roots that protruded from the ground.  Finally she made it up to a flattish area of the wood, and stood still for a moment to catch her breath.  The wood consisted primarily of beech trees, which were by now in full foliage.  Not far away from her was a path, part of a nature trail that spanned the length of the forest.  Lynn decided she might as well take a scenic walk instead of merely waiting at the forest’s edge for school to finish.

As she reached the path, it occurred to her that she was terribly overdressed.  The hem of her skirt was three inches above the knee, and that, she thought to herself, would not do at all.  She took the skirt off and threw it over her shoulder.  The thought of walking through the woods in just a shirt and panties was highly appealing.

Then another thought occurred – it would be a bit of a pain to carry the skirt everywhere.  Better to leave it here and pick it up again when she came back this way.  She returned to the top of the bank where she had climbed up from the river, found a suitably distinctive-looking tree, and deposited her rolled-up skirt at the base of its trunk, on the river side so that it could not be seen from the path.

Returning to the path, she set off, feeling rather liberated at her state of undress.  She rather hoped she would encounter someone coming the other way, but even if she did not it was nice to be so scantily-clad while outdoors.

The further she walked, the more turned-on she became, and soon she decided that maybe she should get a little more undressed.  Quickly she unbuttoned her shirt, and continued on her way thus, with her breasts only loosely covered, and likely to be revealed at the first breath of wind.  Not that there was much wind in this sheltered spot.

A dip in the forest floor to her left caught her eye.  Leaving the path to investigate, she was intrigued to find a partially dried-up pond, roughly twenty yards across.  The first few yards from the shore were practically pure mud, with here and there a branch and a few sticks that had fallen from the trees above.  A thin film of water covered the mud in most places, and where it did not, the mud was obviously still very moist.  Lynn approached the pond as close as she dared, then picked up a stick and thrust it into the mud a couple of feet from the edge.  It did not reach the bottom by the time its upper end disappeared.  Lynn’s interest grew.

Taking off her shirt and her wristwatch, so that she was dressed in only her shoes, socks and panties (she had not worn a bra to school), she stepped boldly out on to a patch of the mud that was fairly devoid of hard objects.  Her right shoe disappeared immediately, followed by her calf and shin, and then her knee.  Here her descent slowed almost to a stop, and she placed her left foot on the mud and put her weight on it.  It, too, sank up to the knee, and she began to tug at first one leg then the other, working her feet deeper into the smelly mud.

And it was smelly – terribly so.  The stench of rotting vegetation pervaded her nostrils, but she did not mind it.  She continued to sink, descending with very little effort as the mud rose up her thighs and eventually began to brush against the crotch of her panties.  Now it was getting rather more difficult to sink – she must be nearing the bottom of the pond.  She was only about three feet or so from the shore – maybe she should have tried jumping further from the shore.

Yet further out the mud gave way to water, and though the mud beneath was no doubt very deep, the experience would not have been the same as sinking into pure mud.  Lynn looked down at her crotch – the mud was now half-way up her panties.  She very much wanted to completely cover her panties, and she renewed her wriggling, hoping that the mud was deep enough for her purpose.

Little by little, millimetre by millimetre, her panties sank down into the glutinous, dark brown mud.  When finally they had vanished beneath the surface, Lynn sighed with satisfaction.  She reached down, picked up large handfuls of mud, and mashed them into her breasts.  It felt cold against her warm flesh, and she shivered a little.  She then dipped her hand into the mud and found the material of her panties.  She pulled it outwards and proceeded to pile mud inside, rubbing the foul stuff into her pussy.

At this point she noticed something moving on her chest.  It was only a tiny something, so small that she had not noticed it before, but now she frowned and peered more closely at it.  It was barely more than a centimetre long, and only a millimetre or so in diameter, and it appeared to be fastened to her skin at one end.  The other end wiggled around in the air for a moment, then fastened itself to her skin, then the other end moved towards it and re-attached itself.

Lynn had never seen its like before, but she knew perfectly well what it was.  A leech! she thought.  But it was so small!  The leeches she had seen in films and in nature documentaries had all been huge in comparison with this little thing.  Her initial reaction was to pull it off, but she stopped herself.  The more she thought about it, the more she decided she quite liked the thought of having a leech feeding on her breast.  It was kind of erotic, in a grotesque sort of way.

Then she realised that it was not the only wriggler.  As her eyes travelled across her chest, she found another, then another, and another.  By the time her gaze had traversed both breasts, she had counted seven of the tiny things.

And what about her legs?  It suddenly occurred to Lynn that they were probably being feasted upon by hundreds of the little suckers.  And her pussy?  Very probably it was undergoing the same treatment.  Lynn flushed with a sudden rush of sexual excitement, and she began to finger her clitoris, closing her eyes as she fantasised about falling into a jungle swamp and being set upon by hundreds of really huge leeches.  Now that would be something.

She squished some more mud into the cleft between her pussy lips, then pushed some up into her vaginal orifice.  She pushed in more and more mud, cramming her cunt full so that she was certain there would be several leeches in there.  She imagined them fastening their mouths to her vaginal wall and sucking her blood therefrom.

She tried to bend her legs, leaning back with her body so that her bottom would sink further into the mud.  If she could get herself into a sitting position, she surmised, she would be able to bury herself up to the neck.  With a great deal of wriggling and puffing, she worked her way further and further into the mud, reclining so that her weight would facilitate the process.

Ten minutes later only her head remained above the mud’s surface.  Her arms were virtually locked in place by her sides, although she knew she could free them if she had to.  Still, it felt wonderful to be so tightly imprisoned, especially when she knew that her body was being attacked by hundreds, perhaps thousands, of leeches.  She wondered idly if any of them would leave a mark on her skin.

She managed to get one hand to her crotch, and she began to masturbate, closing her eyes and smiling happily to herself.

“Are you all right?”

Lynn’s eyes snapped open.  The speaker was an elderly man who was standing on the side of the pond, bending over and peering at her over the top of his glasses.  His right hand clutched a dog lead, on the other end of which was a Jack Russell terrier which was nosing around the leaf litter.

“I’m fine thanks,” replied Lynn.

“Are you sure?  You look stuck,” the man observed.

“I’m really fine,” said Lynn.  “I’m not stuck, I can get out of here anytime I choose.  Thank you for your concern, though.”

“Eh?  What’s that?  Oh, don’t mention it.”  The man scratched his head.  “Are you sure you can get out?  You look pretty stuck to me.”

“I’m sure, I really am,” confirmed Lynn.  “Thanks anyway.”
“Okay then,” said the man.  He turned to go, then he turned back.  “What are you doing in there, anyway?” he inquired.

“My mother’s into all this New Age stuff and natural remedies,” Lynn explained.  “I have mild eczema, and she recommended this mud treatment.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get back to my meditation.”

The man cocked an ear towards her, frowning.  “Say again?  I’m a little hard of hearing I’m afraid.”

Lynn repeated herself.

“Meditation … really?  Wow, new age, eh?  Funny old world.”  Mumbling to himself, the man turned and walked slowly away.  His dog, trotting along faithfully by his master’s side, was carrying a white rag in his teeth, and it was several seconds before it dawned on Lynn just what that rag was.  It was her shirt.

“Hey!” she shouted, but the old man failed to hear her and was soon out of sight.

There was no point in dwelling on this problem for the time being, so Lynn returned to her meditation, and soon reached a climax.  Sighing with satisfaction, she relaxed her limbs, closing her eyes in sheer pleasure.

A wetness on her lower lip brought her to her senses.  Startled, she opened her eyes and realised that she must have drifted off to sleep for a few moments.  At any rate, she had somehow settled further into the mud, and now it was almost to the level of her mouth.  She heaved herself forward with a mighty effort, and succeeded in moving slightly, but she could not sustain the effort and when she relaxed she returned to her original position.

Now she was rather scared.  She was sinking, and she could not apparently get out.  She struggled to lift her arms, and found that by bending them so that her hands met her shoulders, she could lever them out.  She raised them up out of the mud, then spread them out and attempted to haul herself upwards.  The plan worked, and as her torso rose, she straightened her legs and pushed with all her strength.

Slowly her upper body emerged, clad in thick mud that clung to her skin like a wet gown. Unable to stand up straight, she endeavoured to lie flat on the top of the mud, pushing with her arms to extract her legs from the mire’s iron grip. With some annoyance, she realised that her shoes were staying exactly where they were, and her feet were inexorably popping out of them.  Resigning herself to the loss of yet another article of clothing, she continued to paddle against the mud with her arms.  Her hips and bottom appeared, and she was startled to see that her panties had been pulled down – they were nowhere to be seen and presumably were down around her knees somewhere.

Now lying with her head resting in the water at the edge of the muddy area, she continued to pull herself towards the middle of the pond, her legs coming free inch by inch.  She knew that her panties were probably being dragged further and further down her legs, but she had to point her toes downward in order to get her legs out, and could therefore do nothing to stop herself losing them altogether.  It did not help that she could not even feel where they were.

Finally her feet exited the mud with a slurping sound, and she slid back into the water in the middle of the pond.  Of course, she now had to cross the mud to get out, but she could probably manage that on her hands and knees without sinking too much.  In the meantime this was a perfect opportunity to wash the mud off her body.  She sat down in the soft mud at the bottom of the pond and began to splash water over her neck, shoulders, chest and upper back.  The mud washed off easily, as did the many leeches that were clinging to her.  She rather regretted this – she would have liked the leeches to be more tenacious, but in truth they were designed to suck from much smaller victims.

Standing up in the middle of the pond, she sank up to mid-thigh in the soft mud, with the water’s surface on a level with her hips.  She stuck a couple of fingers inside her cunt and pulled out what she could of the mud contained therein, then washed herself out with the murky pond water.  She managed to get virtually all the mud out – how many leeches were still lurking inside her, she had no idea.

Looking around, she noticed that on the other side of the pond the water actually ran right to the grassy bank.  She uprooted her legs and half-crawled, half-swam to that spot, then pulled herself out on to dry land.  Standing up, she turned and looked back at the pond.  What a wonderful place! she said to herself with a smile.

Now she was wearing only one sock (the other had been claimed by the mud).  After a short while she removed her other sock (what point was there in wearing only one?) and continued her walk completely naked.  If she had felt liberated before, wearing only a shirt, panties, shoes and socks, she felt absolutely wild now.  Anybody could walk along this path and see her.  Maybe it would be a nasty man who would rape her.  Lynn shivered in fear and delight at the thought.

She passed another pond, and resisted the temptation to leap into its muddiest patch.  She had done that already – she wanted a new adventure now.  Something original.  Something … disgusting.

A dog barked up ahead.  Lynn stopped in her tracks, and peered through the trees.  There were people coming – several of them.  She could hear voices and see movement in the distance.  She debated whether to continue blithely along the path or to hide.

Courage deserted her, and she ran off the path into the undergrowth.  She ran for over a minute, putting several hundred yards between herself and the path, until she tripped on something unseen and fell to the ground.  Fortunately the leaf litter was soft, and she did not hurt herself, so she got up on to her knees and brushed leaves from her body.

It was then that she noticed the smell.  It was vile, the smell of a dead animal.  She looked around, wrinkling up her nose in distaste, and then she saw the source.  It was a badger, a day or two dead by the look of it, and it was nestling against a section of fallen tree trunk.  Its side was open, whether as a result of injury or of post-mortem scavenging, Lynn could not tell.  But two things immediately struck her about the corpse.

Firstly, its entrails were at least partially still intact, and they looked slimy and squishy.  Secondly, a seething mass of maggots was feasting on its dead tissue.  Lynn was at once revolted and intrigued.  She crawled closer, and tentatively reached out to touch the badger’s guts.  They yielded to her touch, and she withdrew her finger.  Then she hesitantly reached out again, and pushed one finger into the pile of wriggling maggots.  It sank deep, and found something wet and slimy at the end.  Lynn shuddered, but kept her finger there.  She closed her hand around a small quantity of the maggots, and lifted them from the carcass.  Then she purposefully lay down beside the dead animal and poured the maggots on to her chest.  They wriggled helplessly, searching in vain for dead flesh to consume.

Her arousal numbing her sense of disgust, Lynn began to masturbate, imagining herself covered from head to toe in wriggling maggots.  She opened her legs and began to slide a finger in and out of her vagina.  After a few minutes of this, she reached into the dead badger’s side again, and took hold of a portion of the animal’s intestines.  Pulling them out of the carcass, she started squishing these guts into her belly, then moved down to her pussy.  She pushed a folded section of one intestinal structure against the opening of her cunt, then gasped with pleasure as it slipped inside without fuss.

Drunk with adrenaline and lust, Lynn began to push more and more of the animal’s intestines inside her cunt.  They compacted quite well, and she was able to get several feet of the badger’s entrails inside her cunt before it became full.  Holding them in place with one hand, she masturbated with the other until she had reached a mind-blowing climax.

Still she was horny, her adrenaline anaesthetising her against the powerful smell that would otherwise have driven her back.  She turned herself so that her bottom was pressed against the badger’s flank, and then spread her legs so that she could scoop any mess directly from the corpse and on to her pussy.  Then another idea occurred to her.  She quickly pulled the intestines from out of her cunt, and instead began to pick up handfuls of maggots and push them inside.  Instantly she could feel them wriggling delightfully, deep within her body.

“Ooohhh,” she whispered, shuddering with ecstasy.  She closed her legs and simply lay still for a while, savouring the wonderful sensations of the writhing maggots in her cunt.  This was better than worms or slugs – these critters could really move!

As her arousal intensified, she pressed her bottom into the gaping hole in the badger’s side.  Her pussy and anus squished into its guts, and she moaned aloud as her clitoris rubbed against its slippery entrails.  This, she thought to herself, is by far the sickest thing I’ve done – I can’t wait to tell Julie about it!

Pulling her anus open with her fingers (a very tricky job with just one hand), she began posting more maggots into her rectum.  She pushed them as deep as possible, gradually filling herself with the squirming little creatures.  More and more she shoved in, until she was beginning to feel quite full.  She estimated she now had seventy or eighty maggots up her anus, and maybe thirty more in her cunt.

Intoxicated by lust, she next took a long piece of the badger’s intestine, bunched it up, and began to push it into her anus.  She knew some of the maggots might get crushed, but she hoped that most of them would simply be pushed deeper into her own intestines.  Bit by bit the badger’s gut disappeared up into her bottom, and she began to feel very full indeed.  She badly needed to poo, but she was very keen to hold on to her prize until she could show Julie what she had done.

She masturbated with vigour, moaning loudly and not even caring if anyone heard, until she reached another bone-shaking orgasm.  Sighing happily, she got to her feet and began to walk (or rather waddle, since she was trying to keep the contents of her cunt inside her) back towards the path.  Returning the way she had come, she kept an eye out for the tree behind which she had hidden her skirt, and found it quite quickly.  Fortunately she saw nobody this time.

She donned her skirt and folded over the waistband a few times; if she was going to be topless, there was no point in being coy about her legs.  She wondered whether Julie was home yet.  It was then, of course, that she realised she had left her watch beside the muddy pond.  Cursing, she ran back to the pond, then froze as she heard more voices.  She hurried around the edge of the pond, seeking shelter behind a cluster of bushes by the pond’s edge.  From this hiding place she watched as a young man carrying a three-year-old child strolled by.  Lynn waited until they had passed, then retrieved her wristwatch – it was exactly where she had left it.

She followed behind the man at a safe distance, then broke away from the path as she reached her distinctive tree.  There she hurried down the slope to the river, crossed to the other side, and scaled the far bank.  Julie would be home by now, and she would be worrying if Lynn was not there.

Holding her arms over her breasts, Lynn ran the rest of the way to Julie’s house and made straight for the back door, which was rather more obscured from the neighbours’ view than the front.  She was very glad to find it open, and she entered with a sigh of relief.

 

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