Matthew stumbled through the thick woods, stubbornly ignoring Gilbert's angry curses as he tripped over fallen trees and brambles. After hours of wandering through the darkened forest, the Canadian's patience was running dangerously low and his partner's idiocy wasn't helping. A simple camping trip, that's what this was supposed to be. A nice jaunt through a pleasent little forest where he could relax and escape from the stresses associated with the modern world. He should have known better -any activity Prussia suggested was bound to end in disaster. They had been hiking through Norway, enjoying the majestic sights, when Prussia had suggested they take a detour. And Matthew, being the soft-hearted idiot he was, agreed.

That was six hours ago.

The sun was starting to set, casting long shadows through the trees. They still hadn't found their way back to the trail. The woods were getting progressively deeper and if it weren't for the fact that there was no cell reception, Matthew would have been desperate enough to call his annoying American brother and beg for a ride. It was a depressing thought.

Snapping a branch off a nearby tree and using it as a makeshift walking stick, Matthew turned to face his ragged mess of a lover, who was stumbling through some brambles in a vain attempt to catch up. Rolling his eyes, Matthew continued walking, cursing his poor judgement.

"Matt, wait up!"

Matthew stopped, sighing internally as he waited for his partner to untangle himself.

"Stupid branches. Stupid trees. I hate camping." Gilbert's curses and complaints could be heard easily through the still forest air.

Matthew groaned. "Would you stop complaining? Camping's actually really fun when you know where you're going."

"Hey, it's nto my fault! I didn't know we'd get lost. I'm too awesome to get lost!"

"I know," Matthew sighed, having been through this conversation several times already. "I'm just tired."

Gilbert, after finally removing himself from the tangle of branches, trotted up to the Canadian, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Well, we're probably going to make things worse if we keep going now. Did you want to make camp for the night?"

Matthew relaxed against him, nodding in agreement. "I'll pitch the tent. Can you find us some wood to make a fire? Oh, and try to find birch bark; it's good for starting a flame."

"Awesome. We're going to have the best campsite ever! And look on the bright side," Gilbert smirked, his voice dropping to a husky growl, "We're all alone with nothing to interrupt our...activities."

Matthew twisted away, smacking the Prussian on the shoulder. "I am not having sex on the ground in the middle of god damn nowhere. At least," he added, "Not until we get fire going."

Gilbert grinned ecstatically before sprinting into the woods, frantically collecting every dry stick or log he could find.

Matthew and Gilbert sat together on the edge of a large bonfire, roasting the strips of beef jerkey and ham sandwiches they had packed for their lunch. It wasn't much but it would do, and Gilbert wasn't about to let the awesome fire go to waste. Gilbert had his sandwich speared on the edge of a large stick and was slowly rotating it over the fire much like one would a marshmallow. Matthew had opted for the more practical method and placed his own sandwich on a large rock near the base of the flame, watching as it gradually browned. A startled curse left the albino as his sandwich dropped from the stick into the fire, where it was immediately engulfed in flames.

"I told you that wouldn't work," Matthew chuckled before offering Gilbert half of his own sandwich.

"Yeah, well, that's 'cause you don't understand the inner workings of the awesome process." Gilbert argued before swiping the offered meal from the Canadian's outstretched palm.

"Neither do you, apparently." The Canadian stood, brushing off his pants before heading back into the woods. "I'm going to grab a few more branches, I think we're running low on firewood."

Gilbert glared through his mouthful of sandwich before turning back to the warmth of the fire. He didn't want to admit it, but the dark woods were beginning to scare him. The sun had set four hours ago and the temperature was dropping steadily. To top it all off, the deep forest was beginning to come alive with Norway's strange, unknown wildlife. Every so often, he would hear a howl or growl or rustle in the brush, sending chills down his spine. When this happened he'd move a little closer to Matthew, who would always assure him that it was just an animal and nothing to be afraid of. Though he appreciated the reassurance, it didn't work. The Canadian was used to the cold mystery of the wilderness. He often went hiking and kayaking trips in the Rocky Mountains, sometimes for weeks at a time. Prussia couldn't remember the last time he ventured out into the unknown for no real reason. To be frank, nature scared him. A lot.

He poked the fire with his sandwich-stick, watching as the tip was engulfed in flames. "Stupid camping." He peered into the woods again to see where Matthew had gone, shovering slightly when he found he couldn't see ten feet into the inky blackness.

There was something else about these woods that seemed off. Something beyond the rustling in the dark. Norway was known (and mocked) by the nations for his belief in spiritual beings connected to the earth, and as Gilbert sat by the fire, feeling the eerie pressure surround him, he began to realize that maybe Norway wasn't crazy. Something in these woods just didn't feel right.

Matthew hummed quietly to himself as he gathered dry, fallen branches from the ground. The trip had started out bad, but it was turning out alright. At least he was camping, although Gilbert was still afraid of imaginary beasts in the woods. Matthew smiled to himself. He could handle bears and mountain lions, and a wide variety of other Canadian predators. The wilderness didn't scare him at all. He felt perfectly at home in their little campsite, although at the back of his mind, he couldn't help but feel that something was a little off about the woods. For one, there were no small animals anywhere near their campsite. Usually he would see small rodents scampering through similar types of woodland in his home country. However, there were none in Norway's forest. The only explanation Matthew could think of was that there was a large predator's den nearby that scared away all the small animals. He made a mental note to sleep in shifts; he wouldn't want to be unprepared should a large predator stumble upon their camp.

Matthew turned to head beck to the distant glow of the campfire, stopping when he felt something wrap around his ankle. Thinking it was a loose branch on the ground, he bent down to untangle himself, gasping in surprise and horror when the thing tightened and began coiling up his leg. At that moment, he (very stupidly) realized that the thing wrapped around his leg was most definately not a stick.

And then he screamed.

Loudly.

Prussia was experimenting with the trail mix left his bag and trying to find a way to roast the almonds without burning himself when he heard Matthew's scream. Wordlessly, he jumped to his feet, sprinting in the direction it had come from. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Gilbert was able to pick out the writhing form of his lover amongst a cluster of large evergreen trees. He stopped when he was about five feet from him, mouth falling open at the sight.

Matthew was held in place by two large, green tentacles emerging from the dark woods behind him. They were slowly wrapping around his legs, having reached his thighs already, and the poor Canadian appeared to be on the verge of passing out in sheer panic. Upon seeing Gilbert, he began to thrash about desperately, screaming continuously. "G-Gil! Help! Please! It's-" He was cut off as a third tentacle suddenly thrust into his mouth, effectively cutting him off. He gagged roughly, closing his eyes and trying unsuccessfully to pry it away. Soon, more tentacles emerged from the darkness and pinned his arms, pulling them away from his body and destroying his last chance of escape.

Gilbert tried to rush forward and help his Canadian lover, but found he couldn't move. Looking down, he discovered a writing mass of tentacles at his feet, curling around his ankles and preventing him from intervening. Strangely, they weren't curling up his legs like they were Matthew's. Dragging his attention back to the Canadian, Gilbert watched as he was hoisted into the air, legs spread apart so he was completely exposed. Gilbert briefly wondered where his clothes had gone. Eyes flicking to the ground beneath his bound Canadian, he saw the pile of a tattered rags. Oh.

Matthew was still kicking and screaming, twisting frantically in the tentacles' iron grip. Every few seconds, another slimy apendage would emerge from the inky darkness and latch onto the Canadian's body, tweaking and pulling at his skin. Matthew let out a choked gasp around the tentacle in his mouth as he felt a tiny suction cups settle around his nipples. He did not like where this was going. The sucking, pulling sensations began to gradually increase, until the pleasurable feelings began to intermingle with slight pain. He bucked as he felt the tentacle in his throat move, pulling away from his mouth and joining the others carressing hsi body. A new tentacle approached him, a large pink flower situated at the end. Before the young Canadian could scream, the petals opened and wrapped around the lower half of his face, forming a seal over his nose and mouth. Matthew began to thrash desperately when he realized he couldn't breathe, tears pooling in his eyes as his vision began to darken. Only when he felt his consciousness begin to slip away did the flower respond, suddenly releasing a sweet smelling burst of oxygen, leaving the Canadian with no choice but to inhale. He gasped like a fish out of water, eyes wide and panicked, as he filled his lungs with the sweet scent, the darkness at the edges of his vision receeding. Only when he had spent a good minute inhaling did the flower peel itself away from his face, retreating to the depths of the forest.

Matthew immediately let out another screech for help, pushing down the sudden heat that pooled in his stomach. He didn't know what he had involuntarily breathed, but it was already beginning to affect him. The rough scraping of the suction cups on his nipples felt amazing, and Matthew realized with a start that he wanted more.

The tentacles seemed to sense his sudden arousal, or perhaps they had planned it all along, because they immediately began to move faster, creeping around his torso and carressing his face, leaving slimy trails in their wake. The only place they hadn't touched was the area Matthew craved their attention most. He whimpered in need, hating himself for how easily he gave into their touches. His cock was fully erect and throbbing, trails of precum dripping from the weeping head. A steady blush worked it's way up his chest when he realized Gilbert was watching the whole scene with a muted awe.

Gilbert watched the tentacles twist and curl over his lover's body with a rapt fascination. He felt guilty for not saving him, but at the same time, he couldn't deny that he found the situation horribly arousing. The steadily growing hard on in his pants was proof enough of that.

Matthew gasped when a small, thin, tentacle curled around his balls, teasing and pulling at the skin with it's small suction cups. He whined and tried to grind against the touches, whimpering when the four massive tentacles around his limbs kept him firmly in place. The heat was becoming unbearable; he needed to cum. But the tentacles wouldn't let him. They teased his sensitive skin with their rough touch, refusing to pay attention to the area that mattered most. He nearly cried when one thin tentacle brushed against his cock, the feather-light sensation only serving to agitate him further.

The Canadian's pleading whimpers and moans echoed freely throughout the forest, spurring the tentacle creature on as it continued to assault it's captive. The thin tentacle; only half a centimeter in diameter, curled around the head of his cock before worming its way into the slit, causing Matthew to cry out at the pain/pleasure combination. It stopped when it was about three centimeters in before twisting and pulling out gently, starting a maddeningly pleasurable rhythm. Another larger tentacle curled around his shaft, rolling and pumping in time with the smaller one's thrusting.

Matthew was only semi-coherant at that point. The conflicting sensations were quickly driving him over the edge, and the strong aphrodesiac he'd ingested made rational thought nearly impossible thanks to the overwhelming lust. Precum was streaming from his slit, mixing with the tentacle's slime and dripping to the forest floor. The tentacles seemed to notice this, as a translucent green appendage shot out of the darkness and wavered in front of his cock for a few fleeting seconds before encompasing it completely. Matthew screamed at the feeling of being inside the gelatinous appendage. A steady suction was exerted on his cock, coaxing the semen into the center of the tentacle where it was then sucked back to the inky darkness.

The pressure was nearly blinding. Matthew could only shake his head back and forth at the unbearable pressure, letting out a keening cry as he came for the first time that night. The assault on his cock didn't even slow down, milking him throughout his orgasm and forcing him to remain hard throughout the ordeal. Only when every drop of semen had been coaxed from him did they speed up, determined to make him cum again. Matthew whimpered, biting his lip anxoiusly at the overwhelming sensations on his overly-sensitized cock.

He only let out a quiet squeak when he felt the tentacles probing at his entrance. He was still achingly hard, the aphrodesiac having not worn off, and this new development was a welcome addition. He craned his neck to stare behind him, gasping at what he saw. A writing mass of small tentacles, only a half centimeter in diameter each but well over 2 inches together, was probing at his puckered hole, slathering it in sticky residue before beginning to push in.

Matthew gasped at the feeling of the tiny tentacles individually massaging and kneading at his walls. The slight burn that came from the stretch was quickly dissappearing, replaced by unbearable pleasure. It was probably the work of a numbing agent in the slime, Matthew thought briefly, before his thoughts were torn away as one of the small tentacles nudged against his prostate. He let out a howl, bucking as the other tentacles focused on that one spot, prodding and rubbing and flicking against the spongy area as the Canadian sobbed out his pleasure, quickly coming again. His orgasm washed through him slowly, much gentler that the first, or maybe it only felt that way as the tentacles once again stepped up their performance, assaulting his cock and prostate mercilessly. The tentacles in his ass suddenly shifted to the side, still teasing and carressing his walls. Matthew had only a few scarce seconds to wonder about the new development before something much larger began pushing into him, causing the blonde to cry out weakly.

Glancing between his legs, Matthew could barely make out the dark shape of the largest tentacle so far. It was a deep brown, and was covered in small bumps. It looked to be about 3 inches in width. Matthew groaned and screamed as he felt himself stretching to accomitate it's girth. The lumps on the tentacle rubbed irregularily against his walls, creating a strange but welcome friction that Matthew, in his lust-crazed mind, had no choice but to grind down on, moaning even as the pain flared briefly along his spine.

Gilbert, having been completely enraptured with the display, failed to notice the tentacles tightening around his legs until it was too late. He was hoisted up into the air and thrust toward Matthew's quivering form, stopping when he was a foot away from the trapped Canadian. He cautiously reached out, touching Matthew's face and looking into his hazy, lust filled eyes. Matthew let out a strangled moan and Gilbert looked down, surprised to see that almost six inches of the large tentacle had fit into his lover. The tentacles must have been doing something wonderful, because Matthew looked to be on the verge of passing out. At a loss for words, Gilbert managed to stutter out a soft, "Hey, Matt."

Matthew moaned in response, shivering as Gilbert unconsciously trailed a hand down his stomach.

"You alright?" Gilbert questioned, trying to ignore his raging hard on. Matthew's safety came first. Then his undeniable arousal. Priorities, Gilbert. Priorities.

Matthew weakly nodded, shuddering as the large tentacle began to pump in and out of his abused hole, stabbing his prostate with every thrust. Another tentacle wound itself around the Canadian's shoulders as his arms were sudenly released, flopping down bonelessly to rest against his sides. The Canadian's head rolled back and he gasped, and it took a few moments for Gilbert to realize he was experiencing his third orgasm. The tentacles around his cock and ass began to speed up more, increasing the sensation to the point where Matthew was sure he would die if the sensations got any more intense. And at the same time, he didn't want them to stop. He tried to communicate this to Gilbert, but all that eascped his throat was a pathetic whine.

Gilbert nodded in confusion and sympathy before panicking as his pants and boxers were suddenly shredded by thick tentacles. He shivered as his throbbing, leaking, hard-on was exposed to the night air. The tentacles moved Matthew so he was facing the sky, suspended as though he was lying on his back on an invisible bed. Gilbert was then raised so that he was held over the Canadian's prone form. His groin was positioned in above Matthew's mouth, thick tentacles curling around his waist and chest to keep him steady. Matthew stared blearily into Gilbert's eyes before opening his mouth, sucking lightly on the tip of Gilbert's erection. Gilbert shuddered and bucked, threading his fingers through Matthew's hair as the Canadian took him deeper, swirling his tongue around the tip. It wasn't the best blowjob the Canadian had given, as he was very obviously distracted with his own pleasure, but Gilbert didn't care. Watching his lover get thoroughly fucked by a tentacle creature had made him incredibly horny. Before long he was thrusting into Matthew's mouth, plunging his length down the Canadian's throat as he approached his release. The Canadian didn't seem to mind, relaxing his throat and staring hazily into the albino's ruby red eyes.

The tentacles seemed to realize that Gilbert was close, as they began to pound into the Canadian with vigour, forcing keening cries from his abused throat; the vibrations travelling down the length of Gilbert's cock. In another two thrusts Gilbert came, spilling his seed into Matthew's open mouth. The Canadian swallowed it hungrily before shouting, straining against his restraints as the tentacle around his cock clamped around him, dragging out his fourth orgasm of the night. The blinding pleasure raced through his veins as the tentacles continued to milk him, the slimy appendages in his ass kneading against his prostate and causing the blonde to convulse repeatedly against his restraints. Finally, the creature seemed appeased. It withdrew it's tentacles from Matthew's cock and ass, the sensations barely registering in the Canadian's clouded mind. After all that, he wanted more. It wasn't enough. The aphrodesiac was still coursing through his bloodstream, reawakening his arousal.

The creature deposited Gilbert on the ground, the tentacles slowly uncurling from around his shoulders and ankles. Matthew still hung in the air, limp in his restraints.

The forest was eerily silent.

Gilbert felt concern grow in his chest. Had the tentacles hurt him? Were they not finished? Before he could continue his thoughts, a familiar flower-like tentacle emerged from the blackness. Matthew let out a muted whimper when he realized what was about to happen, feebly twitching in his bonds in a pathetic attempt to escape, but was too weak to fight back. The petals closed over his mouth and nose again, cutting off the Canadian's air supply. Matthew felt his chest tighten with the familiar feeling of suffocation, managing to whimper quietly as the blackness started to creep into his vision before another puff of oxygen was suddenly released. Matthew inhaled without thinking, dully noting the thick, heavy consistancy of the air. He took a few more deep breaths, the vine seemingly regulating just how much he could inhale at any given point, before his breathing evened out. His head lolled to the side as he felt a strange fatigue overwhelm him. The last thing he saw was Gilbert panicking on the ground before his vision went blissfully black.

Gilbert watched as Matthew's eyes slid closed. The tentacles held the Canadian steady as the flower continued to regulate his breathing, keeping the unconscious Canadian blissfully unaware of his lover's concern. Finally the flower withdrew from Matthew's face, retreating with the other tentacles as Matthew was lowered to the forest floor.

Gilbert rushed toward the prone Canadian, rolling him onto his back and checking his pulse and breathing. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found both to be regular. He picked the blonde up bridal-style before carrying him back to their campsite, sighing when he realized the fire was almost out. He kicked a few logs out of the way before depositing his lover next to the tiny flame, curling his body around his unconscious lover and pulling him close to his chest. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling the creature, whatever it was, would not be back again that night.

They slept.

Matthew awoke early the next morning, memories from the past night immediately rushing back to him. He thrashed in Gilbert's embrace, not fully understanding where he was. It was only when the albino groaned and opened his ruby eyes that Matthew realized he was not in the creature's clutches. He shivered in the early morning air, curling closer to his lover as he tried to come to terms with his memories.

Gilbert, upon realizing that Matthew was awake, began to gently pet his hair, not knowing what else to do.

Finally, Matthew spoke. "So..." He trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Are you alright?" Gilbert asked, fearing the worst.

"Yeah," Matthew chuckled breathlessly, running his hands down his naked body as if he was checking for an injury. "I guess I am." It was odd, he thought, that he felt no pain. After a night like that, it would normally have been a miracle if he hadn't torn something. And yet, he felt fine. There weren't even any bruises from where his arms and legs had been anchored in place, not that he was complaining.

"Good." The albino hummed into his hair, very much relieved. "You're taking this a lot better than I thought you would. Seeing as, you know, you were molested by a tentacle creature that according to science, shouldn't exist."

"I don't really think of it that way," Matthew smiled. "I mean yes, it was scary, but at the same time it was enjoyable, and I'm not hurt, and at the very least it spiced up our camping trip a bit." He craned his head upward to give Gilbert a pack on the cheek. "And from what I remember, you enjoyed it too."

Gilbert coughed and blushed. Yes, he had enjoyed it. Quite a bit actually. He may have even developed a small tentacle fetish, but Matt didn't need to know that. "Yeah, I guess it was alright."

Matthew laughed. "Alright? You loved it."

Gilbert nuzzled his cheek in response. Matthew snuggled closer into his chest. Gilbert buried his nose in his hair, inhaling deeply. The Canadian was rather...odourous...from the past night. To be frank, he smelled like sex. He smiled.

"Hey Matt?"

"Yeah?"

"I love camping."

Oh my god, two updates in two days. The world must be ending.
I'm sorry for what you just read. And for the crappy pun at the end. That was uncalled for.
So R&R (Read and review), because I love feedback, and I'm willing to take suggestions for the next chapter(s)!

Happy Easter! (Why do I always write smut on holidays?)
-Meg