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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Dryad - 1. The Dryad

I walked out of my house, hearing the sound level die down a few decibels as the door closed behind me. I sighed to myself, happy to finally get away from my three brothers and my parents. I loved them, but they really got on my nerves when they were loud like this, which was pretty much all the time. I closed my eyes, trusting the force of habit to guide me down the trail into the forest without tripping as I savored the quiet. I could still hear the noises of the small town behind me, but those would fade as I got to my destination. I’d been coming here to escape the noise and find solitude since I was eight, when I’d discovered it.

I’d been walking through the forest, looking for something entertaining, and I’d seen a tree. It hadn’t been just a tree, though. It had been the tree. It had large branches forming a ladder up to the biggest branch, which split into smaller ones and formed a sort of nest. I’d climbed in, like any curious eight year old who’d escaped parental supervision would, and I’d decided it would be my fort. Ever since then, I’d been bringing a book and resting there. I’d grown, but the tree had too, and now the small ‘nest’ was a perfect chair.

I came back to the present as I approached the tree, and I felt a smile of relief cross my face as I climbed up. I sat down, and as I opened my book the familiar feeling of comfort washed over me. That feeling had always accompanied me when I was near the tree, from the first time I’d ever come, when I was eight, until now, when I was sixteen. This tree was my refuge from the world, where I could go to feel safe when I was in danger, and where I could come when I felt alone. I smiled, enjoying the feeling, and began to read. I lost myself in the world the book created, where I didn’t have to be a boring, average looking sixteen year old with black hair and blue eyes, and instead I could be someone special.

I don’t know how long I’d been reading for when I looked up and found the sky darkening. I sighed, reluctant to go back to the real world, and poured out the bottle of water I’d brought onto the tree’s roots. It was stupid, but I’d started doing it when I was eight and I’d thought the tree had looked thirsty. It had become a tradition, and now I never came without watering it. I knew it probably made no difference, but it’s not like there was anything else I could do to help it. There were never any weeds growing around it, and I’d never seen strangler vines on it either. Filling up a water bottle for the tree didn’t take much effort, and it’s the least I could do to repay it for being such a perfect sanctuary.

I walked back to my house, going slowly so I wouldn’t have to spend as much time at home. I opened the door reluctantly, wincing as the noise assaulted my ears, and walked in. My mom immediately got me to help with dinner, and I told her about school. She always liked to hear about our lives, and I never understood how she had time for anything else with four boys living in the house. When we had dinner ready, we set the table, and I felt my ever-present headache get worse as everybody filed in. My oldest brother had his girlfriend over, as usual, and the youngest had two of his friends, also as usual. Surprisingly, the second oldest hadn’t brought his friend over tonight, and I soon learned it was because he was sick. It was only the second youngest and me, the middle child, that didn’t regularly have people over.

I managed to get through dinner before my headache drove me off to my room, where it was a little bit quieter, but it was close. I tried to read more, but my headache stopped me from concentrating. It wasn’t usually this bad, but it had been getting worse lately. I eventually ended up laying on my bed and covering my ears with my pillow in a futile attempt to bring back the feeling of peace from the forest. It didn’t stop me from hearing my dad come home from work, and the noise level just increased even more. I lay there for an hour before I felt myself falling asleep.

Just another shitty day, I thought to myself, and drifted off.

Beeping. A loud, annoying alarm. I whacked my arm around, hoping to hit the clock, and eventually I found it. The alarm shut off, but I could hear two others going in my brothers’ rooms. I groaned and got up, heading for the shower. I stripped and stepped in, shivering under the cold water. I gave my cock a few strokes, but I didn’t have time for anything more, so I washed off and stepped out, ignoring the six inches of hard flesh that was begging for my attention. I got dressed and ready for school, and had breakfast before heading out to the bus stop to savor the few minutes of quiet before my brothers caught up with me. They didn’t last long, and my headache came back as they arrived. It got even worse when the bus pulled up and we got on, and by the time I walked into school I was ready to walk right back out. I managed to stay there all day anyway, but by the time I got off the bus again my head was splitting.

I went home for just long enough to grab my book, and then went into the forest to try to soothe my aching brain. I felt better before I even reached the tree, and by the time I was sitting on my usual branch it was almost gone. I sighed in relief as it faded away completely, and opened my book. I realized that when I’d been reading it last night, I’d forgotten to put my bookmark back in, but even that couldn’t mar my good mood. I put the book on the branch where I always kept the water bottle, and just enjoyed the quiet for a minute. I’d find my page later. I took the water bottle, and dumped it out on the roots.

“Why do you always bring that if you never drink it?” a voice asked.

I jumped, looking towards where I’d heard it, but I didn’t see anything.

“Right here,” the voice said, and I saw movement on a branch across from me. It was a guy my age, and he’d waved to show me where he was.

“Why are you here?” I asked suspiciously. I’d worry about being polite when he explained why he knew that I always brought water.

He gave me a weird look. “Why are you here?” he countered, flicking an ant off the tree.

“I always come here,” I said. “You apparently already know that.”

He grinned, and answered my first question. “I never leave,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

Of course he’s trying to play a joke on me. How come all the hot guys are assholes?

He leaned back on the branch, looking up at the sky with a small smile and closing his eyes. “This is my home,” he said, seemingly focused on sunbathing.

Maybe he’s not joking, I thought. Maybe he’s on drugs.

I watched him as he lay there, perfectly content to not get a response.

“This is your home?” I asked, deciding to humor him. I’d heard that the serious drugs, the ones that would make this guy act like he was, could make people violent.

He nodded, his eyes still closed.

“How long have you lived here?” I asked.

“A long time,” he said simply.

“More than a week?” I asked, considering going home.

He cracked one eye open, giving me another weird look. “Much more than a week,” he said.

I looked over his clothes, trying to guess how long he’d been here by how much dirt there was. They were absolutely covered, and he wasn’t wearing shoes. He must have been away from home for a long time.

“Why do you always dump out your water?” he patiently asked again.

“How long have you lived here?” I countered. “I’ll answer you if you answer me.”

His eye closed again, making me think I’d lost his interest.

“I do it because it’s a tradition,” I said, feeling childish. “It’s stupid, but I thought the tree looked thirsty the first time I was here, so I poured out my water bottle on the roots. I’ve done it ever since then.”

He cracked a smile. “I’ve always wondered that,” he said. “Why were you in the forest on your own anyway? You must have been seven or so,” he said, his eye opening a bit again so he could watch me.

“How did you know that?” I asked, starting to get nervous. “I was eight.”

He frowned. “I was there,” he said. “I told you I’ve lived here for a long time.”

“How long?” I asked, not believing him.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Eighty years? A hundred? It’s somewhere around that.” He held his hand upwards as he said it, and a branch bent into his hand, pulling him up. I gaped, and he started to climb upwards, the branches all moving for him. He reached the top, and he climbed out into the foliage to strip off a dead branch. He touched his thumb to his tongue, and pressed it to where he’d ripped off the branch. He seemed satisfied with whatever he saw, because the branches bent away from him, creating a vertical tunnel of open air, and he dropped down it. When he reached my height, a branch bent into his hand and he flung himself back onto his previous branch, going back to sunbathing as if nothing had happened.

I stared at him, shocked, but his eyes were closed and he was totally oblivious to it. I watched him for a few minutes, considering what I’d seen. It was pretty obvious that this was nothing normal. Those branches had been bending on their own! I examined him more closely while his eyes were closed. It was partly to see if there was anything different about him physically, and partly because this was an opportunity to stare at a hot guy as much as I wanted.

He looked like a normal, if sexy, guy. His hair was the same brown as the bark of the tree, and when I’d seen his eyes they’d been the green of the leaves. His teeth had looked normal while he’d been talking, and his skin seemed to be normal too.

“What are you?” I finally asked.

He cracked his eye open again, and I wondered if I should have just left while he’d forgotten about me.

“I’m a dryad,” he told me.

“Then this is your tree?” I asked, feeling guilty for always coming here now.

He nodded, but seemed dissatisfied. “I am the tree,” he said. “It’s my tree in the same way that my body is mine.”

I nodded, considering.

“You’re calmer than the last person I told,” he said, smiling wryly. “It took him days to stop freaking out.”

“Who was the last person you told?” I asked.

He shrugged. “You wouldn’t know him. It was when I was still a sapling.”

“Why do you tell people?” I wondered. “What if somebody freaked out and told everyone?”

He shrugged. “I only tell people if I know they won’t try to burn down the forest,” he said, grimacing at the idea.

“How’d you know I wouldn’t?” I asked.

“You’ve taken good care of the tree since you started coming,” he said. “That’s why I grew the chair to fit you.”

“That explains why it’s so comfortable,” I said, smiling in thanks. “But you didn’t answer my question. Why tell anyone?”

He shrugged, closing his eye fully. “It gets lonely,” he said calmly. “I tell people so I can have companionship, and sex, until they leave.”

I swallowed, wondering if I’d heard him right.

“So, am I going to get what I want?” he asked, smiling to show it was a joke.

Sex? Yes! I thought.

“Can we be friends?” he continued.

Shit. I thought he meant sex. “OK,” I said. “Can we have sex too?”

He opened both eyes this time, grinning at me. “Not shy, are you?” he observed.

“Unlike you, I don’t have time to waste,” I laughed.

“No objections here,” he said, and I watched, amazed, as he faded into the tree and emerged in the branches next to me. He laughed at the look on my face, and then sat down in my lap.

“I’m not going to get any termites from this, am I?” I joked.

He snorted, offended. “You won’t as long as I don’t get any human diseases,” he said.

I grinned. “I’m clean,” I told him, putting my hands on his hips and pulling him closer to me. He leaned his back against my chest and wiggled his ass against my crotch.

“Good,” he said. “So am I.”

I ran my hands over his thighs, leaning in to nibble on his neck. He smelled fresh, like a clean forest breeze, and he tasted good. I let my hands roam farther up his thighs, and he shivered as I ran my hand over the straining outline of his penis before bringing my hands back to his hips. I slipped them up, under his shirt, and pulled it off slowly, revealing his tanned chest. He shivered again as I ran my hands over his chest, enjoying his soft skin against my fingers. I started tweaking his nipples, and he moaned, obviously enjoying it. I slid my hands down his chest and into his pants, pushing them off his legs. He kicked them off, and I grinned as he wiggled his hips again.

“You know, the last thing I expected when I came in here today was a hot guy naked on my lap,” I told him.

“Well now you know what to expect for next time,” he said, leaning back against me again as I ran my hands over his body.

I laughed and gently bit his earlobe, and he gasped, his shiver making me even more aware that there was only one set of clothes between us now. He got up, branches moving to make a place for him to stand, and turned around to face me. His ass was round and perky, and his cock was near seven inches. He was really hot. He straddled my legs, sitting on my knees again, but this time we were facing each other. He pressed his lips to mine as he lifted the edges of my shirt, and we reluctantly stopped kissing so he could throw my shirt away. I felt his hands exploring my chest, and I took a double handful of his ass and gave it a squeeze. He moaned into my mouth, and I kissed him harder. His breath tasted like berries, and when his tongue touched my lips I opened my mouth for him.

I traced my finger through his crack, and when it brushed against his tight hole he writhed against me. I squeezed his cheeks again, and he broke our kiss to start tearing my pants off as fast as he could. When I was naked, he grabbed my hand and guided me out of the tree to the ground, where he made me sit down on a fallen log. He sat down on my lap again, trapping our throbbing dicks together, and I started to nibble on his nipples. He moaned, and I pulled him up so he was standing in front of me. I breathed out onto his cock, nervous, and he shivered. I tentatively gave the head a lick, and he moaned again. I took the head in my mouth, making him gasp. I put my hands on his ass, getting more confident, and swallowed more of his dick. He moaned as he touched the back of my throat, but I couldn’t go any deeper. He didn’t seem to mind, but he pulled out of my mouth anyway.

He turned me over, presenting himself with my ass, and gave my hole a kiss. I shivered as he pressed his tongue against my entrance, getting as much saliva in as he could. He pushed his tongue forward, and I gasped as I felt it writhing inside me. He touched my lip, and I opened my mouth to suck on his fingers as he tongued my ass. When they were lubricated enough, he pulled them out of my mouth and took his tongue out of my butt. I whimpered in dismay, but he soon replaced it with a finger, pushing in deeper. He slipped a second finger in soon after, and I gasped as I felt myself being stretched. He pumped his fingers in and out of my ass, and when I was feeling better he added a third one. He kept pumping, and when I was used to it he pulled them all out. He licked my ass a few more times, getting some more saliva inside me, and then pressed his cock against my hole. His dick was still wet from my saliva, so it slid in when he pushed forward, and I gasped as I felt him filling me. He slid all the way in to the hilt, and I moaned as I felt him pressing against my prostate.

He started to thrust in and out, and I rocked back and forth, meeting him halfway. Before long, he stiffened behind me, and I felt his cock pulsing inside me, shooting waves of cum into my intestines. I clamped my ass down around his shaft, making him whimper, and I just enjoyed the feeling of being full as he recuperated. He soon pulled out, and he pushed me down onto the log so I was lying on my back. He started to suck my cock, while fingering his ass, using his cum as lube. I moaned, loving the feel of his wet, warm mouth surrounding me, but he pulled off, getting up and straddling my hips. He met my eyes as he sat down on my cock, and I heard myself whimper as the soft, hot embrace of his rectum surrounded my member. He started to bounce up and down, and I moaned in delight. Before long, I felt my orgasm coming on. I grabbed his hips, pulling him all the way down as I started to shoot my load inside him. When I was done, he pulled off my cock and leaned down to kiss me.

“Still feel like reading?” he teased.

“Not with this hot piece of wood near me,” I said, taking hold of his cock.

“I’ll let you get away with that pun if you give me another blowjob,” he said.

I smiled. “It’s a deal,” I told him, standing and leading him back to his tree. He sat down in the chair, and I leaned forward to take his cock into my mouth again. I managed to take a bit more of him this time, and when he exploded I happily swallowed as much of his load as I could. I jumped up to sit next to him, and he licked up the small trail of his cum that had escaped my mouth before giving me a kiss. I smiled happily, and we curled up together as I read, until I had to put my clothes back on and go home. It was as noisy as ever, but for once it didn’t bother me. I was too busy looking forward to tomorrow, when I could go back into the forest to meet the dryad again.

Copyright © 2014 faxity; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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When I saw the title of this story, interest was immediately aroused and I wondered just how the author has approached this subject, especially considering the fact that in ancient Greek mythology, dryads are depicted as female nymphs or spirits, taking care of forests and groves in the greenwoods, and where each dryad exists for the sole purpose of guarding and nurturing their individual trees, whether living in their personal trees or very close by. When the tree dies, the dryad goes down with it. In the case where a mere mortal is to be blamed for the death of the tree, the person responsible will have to bear the retribution of the gods, and in this case, the great god, Pan, under whose auspices all the dryads are; although the dryad may also step in and dish out some punishment should a mortal dare to injure the specific tree of the dryad...

 

That said, I am of the opinion that the author has done some groundbreaking by creating a new mythos and introducing a young, male dryad, and to top it all, a hot and beautiful teenage dryad. Whether the depiction of this male dryad gels with our present knowledge of mythology or not, we do create our own realities, and in my opinion our author has done just that, wittingly or unwittingly, providing us with a new slant and view of “modern” mythology...

 

We meet a teenage boy, age 16 (he’s never introduced by name, neither the dryad, or for that matter, anyone of his family) who relates his experience in the first person. (I was wondering how the story would have developed if it was approached from the omnipotent observer’s point of view, i.e. in the third person?) Howbeit, our boy lives with his family, together with three brothers and his mother (nothing is said about a father), apparently in a pastoral setting, because he is so close to a forest and goes to school by bus.

 

He suffers from severe headaches, and the only relief for this unfortunate malady is to take a book and visit a favourite tree of his in a forest close by. This he has done many times, but on this specific day he’s in for a pleasant surprise: meeting a beautiful, hot, teenage male dryad his own age. After some verbal interaction between them, the story moves very quickly to an entertaining erotic encounter of some length.

 

This reader is left with the impression that the boy has found his cure by having had this encounter with the dryad-boy, and was looking forward to many more meet-ups in the wild greenwood...

 

I was left with a question. Just how reliable a source of information does the boy prove to be? He’s obviously a loner amongst his other three brothers. He suffers from severe headaches and is constantly looking for an opportunity to be alone in the woods, away from “the maddening crowd”. Although it is not stated in the narrative, there is the possibility of the boy hallucinating when he thought he saw the dryad – who appeared to him to be just another boy of his own peer group. On the other hand, the whole episode may be “for real,” and final judgment depends on how the reader prefers to interpret this episode. I happened to go with the flow of the narrator...

 

The setting (forest) influences the drive of the plot quite strongly, in my opinion. Consider the forest as representing a place of wild abandonment – the possibility that someone will chance upon the two boys is far and few between. And as for the mortal boy to be so blatantly forward in his request to the dryad, makes it more believable that he could have done so considering his surroundings.

 

I was looking for some kind of message in this story. At first I thought it may have been written without any specific message in mind, intending just to be a pièce of entertaining, voluptuous and wanton slash. But after some thought it dawned on me that in this short, charming, yet lustful story, a profound message is bound up. Thoughts such as perseverance will pay off; altruism do have its rewards; to make friends, you must be approachable, and I’m sure you, the reader of this review, will be able to conjure your own slant on things.

 

When I refer to perseverance, altruism and being approachable, I’m thinking of:

 

Perseverance: the boy has made a point of always taking a bottle of water as a gift for the tree that has provided him solace and temporary relief from his headaches. A kind of thank-offering.

 

Altruism: He was not rewarded materially, he just did it, even when he thought it was "stupid" to do so, but without him expecting it, he was rewarded with one of the greatest gifts a person can wish for in our day and age, i.e. friendship, companionship and even the fringe-benefits that eventuates from that (physical indulging and gratification.)

 

Being approachable: The boy opened himself wide, risking a lot, by boldly taking the first step and laying bear his personal desire...How many times do we sit and wait to be approached by someone we fancy, never considering the unfortunate fact that the other party is just as scared as yourself to make the first move. Think about it...

 

I’ve found The Dryad to be an entertaining and even educational pièce of fantasy writing. When I compare (actually there’s no comparison,) but trying to compare it with the authors debute story, The Island’s Secret, I’ve been pleasantly “shocked” by the overt display of sexual scenes and images that are mainly non-existent so far in the Island narrative – mind you, this is but an observation and not a judgment.

 

To wrap up: In reflection I’ve enjoyed this simple tale tremendously. It took me back to my own youth where I’ve met with incidental situations in mealie (corn/maze) patches; being on educational school tours; memorable so-called one night stands, and more...

 

And, YES, I’m looking forward to read much more in future by this author. He has a way to present natural, uncontrived, and ingenuous content in an enjoyable and loveable, likable way. If you haven’t yet, go check out and enjoy his other work. I can assure you, you will be surprised by joy and in for a massive treat :)

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On 08/28/2014 08:56 PM, Rano said:
When I saw the title of this story, interest was immediately aroused and I wondered just how the author has approached this subject, especially considering the fact that in ancient Greek mythology, dryads are depicted as female nymphs or spirits, taking care of forests and groves in the greenwoods, and where each dryad exists for the sole purpose of guarding and nurturing their individual trees, whether living in their personal trees or very close by. When the tree dies, the dryad goes down with it. In the case where a mere mortal is to be blamed for the death of the tree, the person responsible will have to bear the retribution of the gods, and in this case, the great god, Pan, under whose auspices all the dryads are; although the dryad may also step in and dish out some punishment should a mortal dare to injure the specific tree of the dryad...

 

That said, I am of the opinion that the author has done some groundbreaking by creating a new mythos and introducing a young, male dryad, and to top it all, a hot and beautiful teenage dryad. Whether the depiction of this male dryad gels with our present knowledge of mythology or not, we do create our own realities, and in my opinion our author has done just that, wittingly or unwittingly, providing us with a new slant and view of “modern” mythology...

 

We meet a teenage boy, age 16 (he’s never introduced by name, neither the dryad, or for that matter, anyone of his family) who relates his experience in the first person. (I was wondering how the story would have developed if it was approached from the omnipotent observer’s point of view, i.e. in the third person?) Howbeit, our boy lives with his family, together with three brothers and his mother (nothing is said about a father), apparently in a pastoral setting, because he is so close to a forest and goes to school by bus.

 

He suffers from severe headaches, and the only relief for this unfortunate malady is to take a book and visit a favourite tree of his in a forest close by. This he has done many times, but on this specific day he’s in for a pleasant surprise: meeting a beautiful, hot, teenage male dryad his own age. After some verbal interaction between them, the story moves very quickly to an entertaining erotic encounter of some length.

 

This reader is left with the impression that the boy has found his cure by having had this encounter with the dryad-boy, and was looking forward to many more meet-ups in the wild greenwood...

 

I was left with a question. Just how reliable a source of information does the boy prove to be? He’s obviously a loner amongst his other three brothers. He suffers from severe headaches and is constantly looking for an opportunity to be alone in the woods, away from “the maddening crowd”. Although it is not stated in the narrative, there is the possibility of the boy hallucinating when he thought he saw the dryad – who appeared to him to be just another boy of his own peer group. On the other hand, the whole episode may be “for real,” and final judgment depends on how the reader prefers to interpret this episode. I happened to go with the flow of the narrator...

 

The setting (forest) influences the drive of the plot quite strongly, in my opinion. Consider the forest as representing a place of wild abandonment – the possibility that someone will chance upon the two boys is far and few between. And as for the mortal boy to be so blatantly forward in his request to the dryad, makes it more believable that he could have done so considering his surroundings.

 

I was looking for some kind of message in this story. At first I thought it may have been written without any specific message in mind, intending just to be a pièce of entertaining, voluptuous and wanton slash. But after some thought it dawned on me that in this short, charming, yet lustful story, a profound message is bound up. Thoughts such as perseverance will pay off; altruism do have its rewards; to make friends, you must be approachable, and I’m sure you, the reader of this review, will be able to conjure your own slant on things.

 

When I refer to perseverance, altruism and being approachable, I’m thinking of:

 

Perseverance: the boy has made a point of always taking a bottle of water as a gift for the tree that has provided him solace and temporary relief from his headaches. A kind of thank-offering.

 

Altruism: He was not rewarded materially, he just did it, even when he thought it was "stupid" to do so, but without him expecting it, he was rewarded with one of the greatest gifts a person can wish for in our day and age, i.e. friendship, companionship and even the fringe-benefits that eventuates from that (physical indulging and gratification.)

 

Being approachable: The boy opened himself wide, risking a lot, by boldly taking the first step and laying bear his personal desire...How many times do we sit and wait to be approached by someone we fancy, never considering the unfortunate fact that the other party is just as scared as yourself to make the first move. Think about it...

 

I’ve found The Dryad to be an entertaining and even educational pièce of fantasy writing. When I compare (actually there’s no comparison,) but trying to compare it with the authors debute story, The Island’s Secret, I’ve been pleasantly “shocked” by the overt display of sexual scenes and images that are mainly non-existent so far in the Island narrative – mind you, this is but an observation and not a judgment.

 

To wrap up: In reflection I’ve enjoyed this simple tale tremendously. It took me back to my own youth where I’ve met with incidental situations in mealie (corn/maze) patches; being on educational school tours; memorable so-called one night stands, and more...

 

And, YES, I’m looking forward to read much more in future by this author. He has a way to present natural, uncontrived, and ingenuous content in an enjoyable and loveable, likable way. If you haven’t yet, go check out and enjoy his other work. I can assure you, you will be surprised by joy and in for a massive treat :)

Thanks for the awesome review! Very insightful, and well considered. As for the question of the main character's sanity, that's up to the reader for now XD! The dryad is real, but only in a world that exists solely in my head (for now). I've been planning a Greek mythology story, and if/when that's posted, this story will fit into that plot. I might write a few more short stories like this (part of the nonexistent story), but I don't know. Until that larger story is posted, this one's up to personal impression XD

Thanks again for reviewing! It was fun to read :)

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That was an interesting review that Rano wrote and very full! I'm not into mythology and simply enjoyed the forest, the delightful openness of the 16 year old towards this mythical creature that had such human qualities and enjoyed sex so much. I identify with the boy wanting to find an escape - I was the second of 4 boys (he was the 3rd) but I know exactly how he felt. In my teens I did the same. We lived on a farm and I would wander the bush on my own, sometimes with a dog for company, finding delightful spots to indulge in my own fantasies. Thanks Fax for a gem of a story.

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On 10/09/2014 01:17 AM, Jaro_423 said:
That was an interesting review that Rano wrote and very full! I'm not into mythology and simply enjoyed the forest, the delightful openness of the 16 year old towards this mythical creature that had such human qualities and enjoyed sex so much. I identify with the boy wanting to find an escape - I was the second of 4 boys (he was the 3rd) but I know exactly how he felt. In my teens I did the same. We lived on a farm and I would wander the bush on my own, sometimes with a dog for company, finding delightful spots to indulge in my own fantasies. Thanks Fax for a gem of a story.
Dogs are the best company :D lol. I'm glad the story was accurate, then :)

As always, thanks for your awesome reviews! :)

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Hey, I realize that I read this a while ago (before I made an account)! It was very interesting and unique. It could definitely be expanded into a full story! Good job.

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On 12/19/2014 12:08 PM, craftingmom said:
Hey, I realize that I read this a while ago (before I made an account)! It was very interesting and unique. It could definitely be expanded into a full story! Good job.
It's always fun when that happens, huh? :D Thanks!
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Was it really a Dryad? Or just a naughty pine?

It was a delightful story and I think you did it justice. Short stories are most difficult because every word has to add to the story. No room for fluff or fillers. You did that exceptionally well, fleshing out your characters with just enough information to create a being in the reader's mind's eye. And great emotion. And a bit hot!

You were definitely barking up the right tree, whether that was your intention or knot the story was rooted in love. Instead of branching off into the mythology of it, I'll leaf it there. Lest your opinion of me fall and you see what a sap I can become.

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Great story! Short and Sweet in perfect proportions.

I would have loved to see what happens as this relationship progresses, i was fully expecting the dryad to offer some kind of option for our visitor to stay with him forever to get away from his less than ideal home life. I was sure these headaches were the result of some kind of Druidic powers that had once been dormant were now starting to manifest due to his age. 

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