He stood at the trail head, the valley stretched out before him, a sea of trees that seemed to stretch on forever. He couldn't see an open field, nor a large stream where he'd had such a momentous afternoon. Just trees. Looking down the path before him he could see it slope down into the green shaded bower that the valley represented. And he could feel the draw, the need to follow that path. The tug, stronger now that he was here, urging him onward, almost pulling him down the trail. He'd packed as he did for most of his hikes, a large collapsible tripod, selfie stick, coffee supplies, these were always in his go bag, along with clean socks and underwear, some snacks. The pack was heavy, but it was all that he'd need for his time in the woods.
He stood at the trail head, lost in his thoughts, he stared, unseeing, out across the valley. His focus, or lack of it, shifted and he stared down the path, without thinking, he took a step, then another. Unconsciously he proceeded down the path before him. He'd gone maybe a dozen steps and the trees were just beginning to close over his head when he came back to himself. He stopped. Looked back to where he'd started, looked ahead again. He turned back, took a step uphill, the pull to continue down the path intensified, and he stopped again. Turning, submitting to the need to follow that pull, he made his choice, as if he really had one, he thought, and, again, stepped forward on the path. Down. Down. Down his steps carried him into the woods.
He'd gone maybe a mile, when the mist started to build, it coalesced around him, blanking out the forest that he walked through. He could hear voices, was sure he felt hands brush him or a body brush against his. The voices continued, "it's him," "he's returned", "Feryn has gifted him". His imagination? Was he dreaming again? Step by step he proceed, lost in the mist but sure he was on the right path.
The voices continued around him, but he saw no one, not even when he felt a touch, there was just no one there. He spun around several times but saw no one. Just the mist and the sound of the voices surrounded him. He was now sure that he was being driven insane, but he trudged on, camera gear forgotten, no pictures taken. He walked on. Deeper into the mist, deeper into the unknown, lost to everything except the pull which drew him onward.
Hands began to caress him. He felt them glide up his arms, across his chest, he felt them on his legs. Then the hands took action, they lifted his backpack off his shoulders, it just seemed to glide off of him. They took the clipped tripod off his waste, he walked on, not oblivious to the items lost but not caring. His jacket went next and then his shirt, both were taken from his body, he didn't pause or miss a step, he walked on. One boot, then the other was removed, he simply seemed to step out of them as he walked on. His thick wool socks simply fell off his feet, as hands caressed him and urged him onward. He needed no urging, he walked on. His jeans slid down his legs and off his feet, his boxer briefs followed, the hands sliding along his nude body while he walked on. He hadn't missed a step, he hadn't needed to pause, he was simply stripped. A hand caressed his cock and he began to harden. "He's ready" a voice said and was repeated by several others "He's ready" they echoed.
Suddenly the mist cleared, and before him was a field with a small cascading river. It was just how he remembered it. He stepped out into the sun, and felt the warmth on his nude body and looked down to see his body, slight belly, furry chest, his hardening cock, and he wondered how he'd come to be naked. His hand drifted down to his cock, unconsciously, and gave it a few tugs as he stood, trying to collect his bearings and understand what had happened to him. He vaguely recalled his trek through the mist, the hands on him, the voices but it was all so unreal and yet here he was naked in the sun.
He noticed movement across the field, his eyes tracking the movement found a man standing there. Not a man, no something different. Feryn stood there, his long hair gleaming in the sunlight, his frame thin but strong and muscular. He was the beacon that had drawn him here, and now he drew Joshua across the field.
"You came, beloved," Feryn said as he drew near.
"I..I..I don't think I could have avoided coming." Joshua stammered out.
"No, I don't suppose that you could have," Feryn replied, as he reached a hand up to caress Joshua's belly and chest. Joshua's cock was now fully hard. "When last you came here, we bonded and that is a powerful thing between a human and an elf, for both but much more so for the human, as they're not used to the magic involved."
"Magic?" Joshua asked.
"Magic. Elves are creatures of magic; we use it the way you use oxygen. If flows through us and binds us to nature, to each other, binds us in love and other things." As he spoke, his hand continued to caress Joshua, moving up across his chest then down again to caress the hard cock waving in the sunlight.
"You've bewitched me? Is that why I can't resist you," asked Joshua.
