Hey! It's been a while, hasn't it? This is a story I thought of writing after reading a little book called Slewfoot by Brom. If you're familiar with the material, you'll absolutely see where I got it from, and if you wanted to read the non-porny version of that story after reading this, definitely check it out. Check the tags to make sure there isn't anything that'd make you uncomfortable. There are a few here I haven't actually written before but I feel I've done them justice. Without further ado, enjoy!

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The Wood Speaks

Ivy snagged Jacob’s boot and slung him to the dirt, the bruise on his face aching more from the impact of the ground. He didn’t know how long he’d been running, but the way breath was wheezing through him showed how exhausted he really was. He picked himself up swiftly and clumsily, looking behind him in fear that he’d be following with his club. Jacob continued to dash through the underbrush, defenseless and terrified. He didn’t realize the cross around his neck broke free.

It was hot, the muggy heat pushing through the canopy of trees and cooking the forest floor. His tunic and trousers were drenched with sweat, but that was as much from the early morning work on the farm as it was to the run. While the sun was overbearing, he wanted the rays. It had always helped him relax before.

The trees were denser wherever he was going. He had to slow down, weaving through the thick barks, eventually seeing a peculiar beam of sunlight through the leaves above, a patch of grass nestled in a small clearing. He pushed his way through and collapsed onto the hot blades, rubbing his face into the softness it offered.

He didn’t have the strength to run anymore. Jacob did his best to breathe and slow his heart. The rasps from his throat were ugly and grating, the young man splaying out in the green to stare up into the warming sun. He tried to process all that had happened, and he started to sob.

Isaiah Gridley did not give Jacob much time to grieve after his father had passed, and the past few months had been hell. The farm was surviving with two souls managing the crops, but with only Jacob working the fields, the tasks were piling up, and crops were whittling away from the lack of proper attention and care.

The landlord expected to see a flourishing field of money for him to collect, and instead was met with enough to barely supply a few families. Certainly not a profit. Jacob was behind, he knew that, but no one from town had the time or energy to contribute. Plus, Mr. Gridley assured the boy needed to build some character through this, which Jacob assumed meant something along the lines of, “Figure it out. I don’t have time for this or you.”

With barely any money flowing in, a furious Isaiah threw his fist into the boy’s face and warned him that the dead fields should be plowed, re-planted, and budding as soon as possible, or he’ll regret it. The man’s always had a temper, but Jacob had never been the focus of it, and it terrified him. The way his lips peeled to the sides of his face was unsettling, a darkness living within that smile. The man had power, and he liked to use it.

Thinking about that smile, feeling the throbbing ache of his cheek, there was a helplessness that bloomed within him. He hated to feel meek, to feel young and naive, even though he was. He blindly promised a good yield of crops to the owner of his family’s farm not only because he needed to, but because he wanted to. The pain of failure was something he’s dealt with before, but Jacob couldn’t shake that he might not get a second chance to prove himself, and it pinched at his heart in his chest. His hands cupped over the organ and he screamed, wailing in hopes to spit this burning ache inside of him away.

He had spent a lot of his youth in the woods, attuned to it’s silence. So when the gentle bend and snap of a twig somewhere behind the trees sounded, he sat up quickly, panning the surroundings. “Who’s there?” He called out, “M-Mr. Gridley?”

The light in the clearing he laid in felt safe, however the darkness of the woods around him seemed to encroach, pressing in all around like a string on a sack tightening. He could feel the pull to turn around like there was something behind him, and as he did, it remained at his back. He was not meant to see it.

An inviting breeze brushed through the grass, and amongst the ruffling of the leaves above, something spoke through them, all around him, “What troubles you?”

The words were slow and measured, old and wise. They felt trusting, and they felt vast. It seemed like the forest itself was speaking, until Jacob considered that the words passing through the foliage sounded like a hiss, “D-Devil…Away from me! I have no business with you.” He grasped at his neck for the crucifix that was not there, collapsing to the ground in a little ball.

The winds caressed his back, fluttering his tunic. It sounded amused, “I am older than your devil, child. You misunderstand me.”

“You are not meant to be understood. You are evil.” His fingers dig into the back of his head. Jacob’s hands pressed to his ears, but the sound still came.

“Evil corrupts. Harms. Destroys. I have done none of these to you.”

“That is all true, but only because I haven’t let you in. And I will not! Begone!” A weak hand waves out in front of him, as if it would banish whatever was speaking.

“I only wish to calm you. Here.” The benevolent tone whispered up from the grass against his cheek, a warm something pulling at his flesh for a moment. It terrified him, and he snapped up from the ground and landed on his butt, a blissfulness washing through the bruise on his cheek, and the swelling disappeared within moments.

His hand fell to where the bruise once was, touching the tender skin, smiling unintentionally. Could the devil do such good? Healing? Comforting? Caring? He considered the feeling he felt on his cheek for a moment, realizing it felt so familiar. It reminded him of family, of a warm hearth after a full day’s work. A home-cooked meal. The feeling of another’s palm in his hand. It was a kiss.

He looked out into the blackness of the woods, strangely calm. Jacob kept his hand on his cheek, not even realizing there was a blush on his face, “What do you want with me, devil?”

“For you to share your plight with me.” The bushes all around him wriggled in the winds.

He felt sorry for himself in this moment, as he realized how alone he was. No one else would hear him besides the devil himself. Not even God. They always said that God was listening, but what value is there in someone who listens, but does not see you?

A trembling breath poured out of Jacob’s lips before he started to tell his story from beginning to end. His father’s illness. Mr. Gridley’s overwhelming expectations and threats. How alone he was, confessing how much he hated that the devil was now his only friend. His arms were behind him, supporting him on the grass as he stared up into the only light the earth had to offer him. A tear rolled down his face.

“There there. Feel it. Allow it to pass through you.” Summer warmth embraced him.

“Do not patronize me. I am grown. My actions have led me here.” He said. Jacob knew he played a part in all of this. He got himself here, whether from late rises in he morning or improperly curating the crops.

“You may be grown, but you are but a boy to me. A young soul.” The shadows blackened, and Jacob could feel that presence approaching from behind.

He started to turn, frustrated with the presence coddling him when the voice bit, “Do not look upon me.” The voice became fuller and deeper, the command impossible to disobey. He still felt the compulsion to turn towards the voice, yet every shift towards that direction brought dread to his core, so he didn’t dare not listen.

“Why not?” He asked, an innocent question enough, even though questioning the devil felt reckless.

“You will no longer be yourself. You may look only if we strike a deal.”

And there it was, the devil and his games, always trying to lure an innocent person into a damning deal. A deal will be offered that benefits him very little, and costs his soul, his humanity. There was anger bubbling within him to let himself get this far, to trust this much, but the desire to see the devil himself, for some reason, pulled at his heartstrings. His hand caressed his cheek once more, and he spoke plainly, “Let me hear it.”

There was a pause, the wind ceasing for a moment as the forests contemplated the boy’s complacency. Humans had never been so willing to hear these offers before, “Gridley is a blight to these lands. Help me deal with him, and I will give you what you want most.”

“And that is?” He was afraid to hear whatever it was, ready to dissect the offer and uncover it’s true evil. To see how it would hurt him down the road.

The voice spoke, “Family. A new home for you.”

The air around him hung for a moment. Jacob was rattled. The seed of pain had settled inside of him months ago, festering inside over the loss of his father. Yet again, he was frustrated that the first person to see that was the devil in these woods. No one else of his community seemed to notice, nor care. He couldn’t speak.

“You are still young. They have not corrupted you yet, although they are trying.”

“You would know plenty of corruption, wouldn't you?” The remark was half-hearted. Jacob was breaking, and he knew it too.

“I would. My lands have been desecrated ever since your people have arrived.” The wind was chill, bitter as it sliced through him.

Jacob was no longer afraid in this moment. These weren’t the types of things the devil would be talking about. It could all be deception of course, but he never liked those explanations in church that the devil was always trying to deceive you. It seems like far too good a tactic to just void any chance of listening to another person. Gridley would use that on many who’d disagree with him. He followed that thought, and asked, “Desecrated…how?”

The air pondered around him, small spins of leaves stirring in the field as Jacob sat his bottom on the ground. It eventually answered, the deep voice saying, “I will tell you more if we strike this deal. Simply put however, the real devil is Gridley.”

The boy grew pensive, considering the deal, whatever it would do. Help out the devil, and be given a family again. A new family? His own would come back? Or a new one entirely? He had many questions flooding in about the potentials of this offer, but there was one crucial bit he needed clarified, “And what’s the catch then? What haven’t you told me?”

“To make this pact, you must let me in.”

The presence closed in from the darkness, but Jacob was not afraid. He could feel it behind him at the edge of the clearing. He was not allowed to look, but he wanted to still, giving in, “I-I will.”

“You will…what?” He could hear something heavy stepping onto the warm grass.

“I will let you in.” His eyes shut tight, unbelieving in his own words. He made a pact with the devil himself. Jacob trembled, waiting for some kind of pain to rip into him, some slash on his body to spill heathen-blood all over this beautiful untainted meadow, ready for himself to be taken from these feelings. Even with how dangerous the devil felt to him, he hated how much more preferable it felt than that feeling of loneliness itself.

The voice was deeper still, tangible now. He could hear it some feet above and behind him, like it was coming from something physical. The devil was standing behind him. He could feel his hellish heat against his back, “Stand up. Turn around. And look me in the eyes.”

He could feel the incredible warmth against his back, but the second thing he noticed was the smell of the devil itself. It smelled of power and might, brawn and earth. It allured him already, his cheeks flushing as he shakily stood to his feet. The slow turn of his body to face the beast felt like minutes, and as his eyes peeled open reluctantly, he was met with the sight of a belly.

His head was level with the crevice just below the beast’s pectorals. Jacob’s eyes crawled up the form to meet with the piercing gaze of the devil himself. The devil’s face was similar to that of a goat, his eyes much more human than expected. Red coals burned within those pupils, the beast’s nostrils flaring as the two connected through sight. The beast’s jaw was wide, a thick black beard covering the soft-looking fuzz that decorated his entire body. Four majestic horns spiraled from the goat’s head, like rays would from the sun. Jacob wanted to look at the rest of the devil’s form for some reason, a dormant desire within him suddenly blossoming, as if the devil awoke it within him with just one glance, but the pull towards those fiery pupils was too strong, and all he could do was gawk in awe, and slowly smile as euphoria seemed to flood through him.

Two massive hands reached forward, each landing on a shoulder of Jacob’s, pulling him closer so the rounded belly of the devil pressed into his chest. Great thumbs circled the human’s torso as the devil looked down at him, seeming to study him with a small smirk on his face. The devil did not look as sinister and malevolent as Jacob expected, and the beast almost seemed calm and peaceful. With every ticking second, the human was growing fond of the beast.

A massive amount of effort was put into Jacob’s next few words, “Wh…what next?” His eyes never left the devil’s face.

“We must seal the pact. We must both be in our natural form. I already am. Please, remove your clothes.” The hands left Jacob’s body, and for the first time, it felt like he was able to pull his gaze from above, the tie being severed.

He felt slightly empty, not being connected to the creature, but he was given a directive, and he felt so full of purpose as he started to unbutton his shirt, peeling it away from his torso. He looked up once more, that wonderful sense of warmth flooding him as he felt the coals staring back. A part of him realized that the devil was watching him undress, and he blushed. The beast seemed to have no interest in giving him privacy, and soon he realized that he wanted the devil to see more of him like this.

The unbuttoned shirt floated to the ground, his undershirt being peeled over his head to reveal his pasty light skin, contrasted with the dark tan along his exposed limbs. He rolled up his sleeves plenty while he worked, and the efforts of his labor were etched into his skin because of it. The muscles on his body were light, but toned. A body built fully on his own efforts.

He paused for a moment as he fumbled with his belt, looking up for approval as if to ask if this was really what the devil wanted. A firm response came from that glance, “Continue. Your natural form is lovely.” Jacob shuddered from the compliment, and looked down to slide his belt free, tossing it with his other clothes. The button of his trousers popped, and he slid them down along with his underwear, stepping out of them with his shoes quickly.

 Jacob looked up and covered his eyes in fear, “Oh my lord!” He stumbled backward, finding the salacious urge to pull his hands away. He did, and the throbbing arousal of the devil’s cock bobbed a few feet from his face, “Wh-Why are you aroused?!”

“We are going to seal the pact, Jacob.” The devil stepped forward. He was nearly three heads taller than the human, but with him on the ground, the massive prick was eye level. He was only a foot from it, and the beast’s hot scent poured from the organ. Jacob could feel it slithering into his nostrils, and he looked down to see his own cock pointing towards the sky.

“But I’m not-“ He was silenced by the head of it bumping his cheek. He didn’t recoil, even as it peeled away with a line of pre connecting them.

“Do you not wish to let me inside of you?” It pulsed against him.

The devil offered to take it back, but there was a horrible yearning somewhere inside of him. For things to change, for things to be different, and for him to explore this bud inside of him that’s existed ever since he was a boy. He’d felt a flush holding his father’s hand, or running through fields with the other boys of the village, but he suppressed those feelings of affection. Laying in the warm grass, beneath the devil’s bulk, for some reason he felt that he could let that all out, let himself try those things he’d convinced himself are unholy, sacrilegious thoughts.

He answered softly, “I still wish for it. I-I long for it.” His face nuzzled the hot length in front of him. His mouth gaped, licking up the opening and tasting the devil for the first time, and fire burst inside of him as he could feel the savory salt roll down his throat.

“Good.” Just as Jacob was putting his lips to the tip, his body suddenly lost all of its agency. Where there was once grass touching his hands and feet, now it was only air, his form being lifted from underneath the heft of the devil. He struggled in the air some, realizing that he was being manipulated physically, whining softly as his legs were bent far back, and he could feel his cheeks parting softly as well. He was hovered higher and higher into the air, until his pucker rested inches from the devil’s snout. “Ahh…what a beautiful core you have. Your soul is clean, dear Jacob. Here, let me prepare you…"

 The devil’s snout pushed forward, pressing to the dark ring hidden between those cheeks. The kiss sent a zap of lightning through his body, and his eyes lidded with delight. “M-More…” rolled out of his lips quickly as the next few kisses pressed below, and soon the tendril-like tongue pushed its way inside of him. Jacob could see the appendage writhing within, the massive girth poking out of his belly, and it only made him smile.

Time was irrelevant in this grove, Jacob locking eyes with the devil as his bottom was tasted and invaded. The gaze alone spoke of desire and lust, things he’d never experienced before in his life. His legs lowered and wrapped around the devil’s neck, pulling him tighter against that core. He could see his own cock pulsing on his smooth belly, leaking with excitement.

He couldn’t ignore the rules he was taught as a child for long, needing to let them out, “This is blasphemous..unnatural.” There was shame beginning to flood him.

The devil’s lips popped from his butt, tongue slotting back into his muzzle as the bassy chuckle erupted from the beast, “There is nothing more natural than this, dear Jacob. We enjoy one another in our most natural forms.”

“The texts say I can’t lay with you. I’ll burn.” He yearned to be corrected, and he was.

“Your texts are nothing but words. The only power they have was gifted to them by your priests. Do you trust in these texts?” Jacob began to be lowered, floating down to hover vertically, his hands being pressed into the great torso of the devil, the human unable to resist pressing them to the firm pectorals, decorated in that coarse, hot fur.

“I…do not know. I’ve doubted so much these past months.” His head rested down, nuzzling underneath the beast’s warm neck. He looked down at the massive girth that suddenly started to poke his cheeks, Jacob grinding against it.

“Allow me to show you something new to believe in.” The rod below etched in white runes, a language that looked like the foliage around them. Like the veins of a leaf held up to the sun.

He was terrified to hear what the beast would suggest, “You?”

A warm, great palm pressed to the man’s back, rubbing him and flooding a soothing heat through him, “No. Yourself.” The head pressed to his dripping entrance, grinding against it, “What more would you want than to discover it all on your own, Jacob? What is right for you?”

The human’s grasp wrapped around the great barrel of the beast’s body, exploring him. Those hands eventually curled their way up around the devil’s neck, staring up into the hot embers of his eyes, “That feels so right…but I still feel so empty.”

“Here…this will help.” The devil’s grip held the human firmly against his body, pushing him down onto the forearm-length meat. Jacob cried out as euphoria exploded through his core, the sensation so focused and all-encompassing. His hands dug into the devil’s flesh, every inch agonizing, not because it was painful, but because it only felt more and more right to have it inside of him.

As each rune pushed into Jacob’s hole, they sizzled and dissipated into his flesh. He felt closer to the beast with each symbol, and instinctually could feel he was so much more than the devil. He looked up, flabbergasted by how little he could see before. He hadn’t even noticed they had walked over to a great tree, and the bark was scratching his back as the creature was gently bucking into him. The devil’s home was not hell. It was here. The devil’s home was the leaves, the trees, the grasses, the bushes, the mushrooms, the soil, and the rocks. It was the bugs and birds, the furs and fish, and everything in between. The devil was natural, and the devil had a name before his people had given him this title. In fact, many peoples before him had given him names, and the names stirred and blended and mixed in the pot that was cooking this flood of knowledge within the human. The devil had one he preferred.

As Jacob felt the full mast bury inside of him, he’d whimper, “Dalmoch.”

“It is nice to meet you, Jacob, son of Dalmoch.” The goat’s lips pressed to Jacob’s, and he thrusted harder into him. The surge of some thick liquid below churned, and the beast began to moan into the human’s mouth. The god erupted into the human’s body, the wonderfully messy slops of every divine rope of seed filling the forest with natural spirit, the human’s toes curling in delight as he was filled.

He’d never felt closer to anyone before, and they both rested there, their foreheads pressed together in the afterglow of their new love. Dalmoch began to pull out of him, and Jacob protested, so instead, they laid together on the grass. The human remained curled around the great belly and torso, and the deity remained buried inside of him until the next morning.

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The blaze of the fields roared all around him, and the torch was tossed into the cottage last. Jacob was nude, idly rubbing his stomach. He could still feel the leftovers of their morning embrace. He smiled with a happiness he’s yearned for his entire life, the warmth of the fire so comforting as it dismantled the life that broke him.

Dalmoch assured him this damage was temporary, and the reason for it came to fruition moments after contemplating it. The dreaded gallop of Gridley’s horse clopped through the main path, rearing to a stop across the yard. Previously he’d feel the dread from the sound, but Jacob was gleeful to notice that the pain was all gone. Jacob stood on the stoop of the cottage as the tendrils of fire started to grow inside the windows. He turned to face the owner.

“What have you done, Jacob?” He dismounted from his horse, pulling the club from his belt with rage tainting his tone. “What sort of pathetic outrage is this? Destroying my crops to get back at me?” He marched forward with purpose, failing to notice his own steed fleeing to the woods away from the growing flames. Despite the flames of the crops licking at the foliage against the farm, it strangely did not catch and spread.

Jacob said nothing, delighted as it all seemed to fall perfectly into place. He turned, and stepped into the open doorway, moving through the flames and disappearing inside.

Gridley paused, stopping at the door of the building. He considered to let the boy die in the fire, but the fury inside of him needed release, and so he jumped through with the intent of assuring the boy wouldn’t leave the cottage again.

The fire scorched the insides of the home, the fabrics and furniture all having caught already. The inferno was unbearable, but the man found it more unbearable to be humiliated like this. The burns would heal, he thought to himself, but ridding the world of this nuisance was far more important.

He turned towards the naked offender at the opposite end, who sat smiling on the ground, Gridley taking one step forward before the agonizing pain of Dalmoch’s tight grip caught him by the neck.

“D-D-Devil! I rebuke you!“ The deity wanted to let the man’s fear flood him, some satisfaction being found in letting them stew. He was quickly satisfied, as the man’s trousers were flooded moments later. It’d normally be a bother to have such a stain on his meal, but the fires helped cleanse the fabric off of the landlord’s body.

“Please, I beg of you!” Gridley realized there was no power left for him here, and like most men who relied on ruling with an iron fist, they crumbled quickly once their tactics were ineffective. “Ple-“ He was cut off as the goat’s maw gaped and snatched up his entire head.

The muffled protests within were slowly snuffed out by the roaring flames as Gridley’s body moved deeper into the beast’s gullet. His arms and legs flailed, but Dalmoch’s power was unimaginable, and soon his shoulders and arms were bound in the beast’s throat. Drool poured around the man’s trapped body and out of the goat’s lips, the savory taste of a vile soul being claimed almost as satisfying as the night before. He started to throb to life.

Jacob approached in curious awe and Dalmoch tossed the vile human up and scarfed more of him down, chubby torso squelching from sight, the man’s loose privates disappearing behind the god’s beard and lips. The human pressed to that great stomach, listening to the whining yearn for food. His belly was empty, but not for long. Jacob rubbed the flesh and fur with his hands and face, both of them growing erect from his touch. Jacob’s hand massaged the tip, and a chuckle slipped from the predator’s lips.

As Dalmoch wetly swallowed down the man’s legs and feet, teeth snapping shut around the white flesh, Jacob moaned as he listened to the horrible slosh of the man’s body sloughing into the smelter behind that wonderful fur. His fingers traced the veins of Dalmoch’s cock below. A wet belch from the maw above snapped his attention upward, and his sire smiled benevolently towards him.

The beast’s hand cupped against Jacob’s cheek, holding him to the stomach as he listened to the scrambling protests of the man inside. He was aware how satisfied he felt, knowing that Gridley was going to die. “Help! Somebody! Anybody!!” Hands and feet mashed out against the fat stomach, Jacob pressing the bulges back in as if it were a child’s game.

He cuddled against Dalmoch for what felt like an hour. He rubbed and nuzzled, listening to those pleas slowly dwindle into fearful whimpers, and slowly silence underneath the acids that boiled within the deity’s gut. They both smiled at one another, knowing that the world was a better place without such a wretch.

Jacob stroked the throbbing length against him, but Dalmoch interrupted, “There is one more thing we must do.” Jacob looked to him, listening attentively, “Do you trust me?”

The man stood in front of that great belly, hands still caressing it as he nodded fervently.

“Cleanse yourself in the flames, my child.” Dalmoch glowed a deep crimson, blending with the light of the room. His fiery eyes looked behind the human, and Jacob turned with him.

A pillar of fire spun at the center of the lone room. The building was hanging on by threads, but it felt as if Dalmoch controlled it all, willing the wood of these dead trees to withstand a few more moments, promising them to be reborn again.

Jacob stepped away from the deity, bare feet carrying him across the room until he reached the pillar. He did not yield, trusting Dalmoch fully as he stepped through the sheet of red. The flames before had not hurt, and neither did these.

He suddenly was picturing his old life in flashes, the images decorating the bright flames that burned away his hairs. He could see the family he was happy with when he was a child. He could see and feel the pain of losing them, but remembering that even though they were gone, they wanted him to grow and choose a life for himself. The pain suddenly was manageable, and he could control it. He abandoned the old life as he set fires to the tainted crops and home, and he was ready to choose something new. The flames asked to engulf him, and he invited them in.

Fire licked all over, the heat so intense, but never hurting him. He could feel his skin changing, as the pale tones slowly puffed out with orange, black, and a white. His humanity was disappearing, and the wilds of this land were welcoming him in with a new form. He could feel the sudden pop of a tail sprouting from his backside, claws growing from the tips of his hands and feet. His face elongated, and his teeth sharpened, and like a candle being blown out, the entire blaze was snuffed by the familiar winds of Dalmoch’s will.

The smoke of the dilapidated ruin of a cottage faded. His black paw pads walked forward towards Dalmoch, who watched him like a father would watch his baby taking their first steps, “You are beautiful, even more so than before.”

“I feel beautiful. Thank you, Dalmoch…” His fingers ran through his fur, exploring the sensation of a new wild body, a fox. He touched the different textures all over, on his pads, his teeth, his nose, and even the plump manhood that dangled between his legs.

He smiled and teared up. Their hands embraced, and they left the smoking ruins behind. Jacob was excited to start his new life, filled with love and purpose like he never could’ve imagined, and a family so large that he’d never get to meet them all.

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