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Right after 2 in the afternoon, rain began to fall over the forest. Bowser glanced up and the sky and grunted. "Damn it," he muttered. He'd already gotten himself lost, and now he was going to get wet too. What started out as a quiet afternoon hike had turned into an obnoxious nightmare.

Shifting on his feet, he scoured the dense forest. Nothing. No landmarks, no sign of a trail or civilization. He slumped his shoulders. He'd been walking for a couple hours after leaving the hiking trail in an attempt to escape the other hikers and get some quiet, and he'd really shot himself in the foot.

Standing himself back up straight, he started walking in the same direction again. No use second guessing himself now. Eventually he'd have to run into something, right?

After another fifteen minutes of walking in the rain, he started to doubt his course again. He decided to turn 90 degrees to the left and walk for a while, then turn right again. It wasn't much of a strategy, but he figured it was an improvement.

Unfortunately, this proved to be a mistake almost immediately. He was so fixated on the horizon he failed to notice the ground in front of him. With a splat, he stepped into a muddy bog. "Great," he muttered, looking down. His thick, scaly foot was completely covered in mud. He drew it back and tried his best to wipe it off on the forest floor, to limited success. Bowser looked at the ground in front of him - almost entirely mud. In fact, he'd apparently been walking on a relatively slim strip of land that had remained dry - there was large patches of muddy ground on three sides.

"Perfect. Just perfect." The king turned and looked around the area for another route before shrugging and continuing forward into the mud. He put one foot in, grimacing slightly as he felt the soft, squishy mud between his toes. He sank in up to his ankle in the soft ground. He took a step forward, his other, formerly clean foot sinking in as well. He pulled out his other foot with a wet slurping sound and continued.

The king's broad feet started to get a chill as he walked through the slimy mud, but he pressed onwards. Having judged 15 minute had passed, he elected to turn right again. Nothing but more mud before him, he realized. He wasn't sure if he was deeper into the forest than ever, or if the rainstorm had caused the mud. Occasionally, he'd find small patches of dry ground and get some relief, but it didn't last long before he was back sloshing through the slimy mud.

Suddenly, without warning, Bowser's ankle caught on something in the mud and with a started yelp, he went crashing down to the forest floor face first, covering his front scales in mud. Cursing, he propped himself up and wiped some of the mud off his face and chest before trying to stand. He was surprised to find something had wrapped itself around his ankle. He yanked his ankle free. A little shaken, he rubbed his forehead before resuming his course.

It wasn't two minutes later something caught his foot again. This time, he reacted in time to stay upright, only stumbling slightly. He crouched down to free his ankle again to find a slick, slimy vine wrapped tight around his foot. He was startled briefly, thinking it might be a snake, but it didn't react when he touched it. Bowser snorted and yanked the vine away, tossing it off to the side into the mud.

He walked for another few yards before he felt something brush against his other foot. He hesitated, standing still in the ankle deep mud for a few moments. He knelt down again, discovering, to his surprise, another vine had wrapped itself around him. He gave it a yank, but it resisted his strength. Taken aback, he yanked harder, finally freeing its grip and throwing it to the side. He stood again but felt something again, this time around his other foot. Back down - yet around vine. What was happening here?

As he was trying to get his bearings, the vine suddenly yanked away, sending him toppling over into the mud again. This time he wasn't able to catch himself properly, landing chin first in the mud, rattling him. He groaned, his head spinning, and head his head in one of his massive, scaly hands.

He felt something brush against his leg. Regaining his senses, he looked down to discover a half dozen of the slimy vines had wrapped themselves around each of his legs. "What the hell?!" Bowser exclaimed, reaching down to tug one of them off. It came off easily, but immediately wrapped itself around his wrist instead. He began shaking his hand vigorously, trying to get it loose, to no effect.

He began clawing at the vines around his legs with both hands, but even more had come from nowhere, and he was barely able to make a dent. He tried to stand, hoping to shake them off, but they held him fast to the ground. He began to panic a little, unable to figure out how to free himself.

The vines began to curl around his broad feet, one slipping between his thick toes, leaving them covered in a viscous slime. Without thinking, he reached down to wipe off his scaly soles, but before he could, a vine bend towards his hand, and he snatched it back.

Maybe they sense movement? He thought, and tried staying still. At first, it seemed to work - the vines didn't move. But after a few moments they began to move all at once, sliding over his feet and further up his legs.

The king clawed at the ground, trying to get away by any means, but this only allowed more vines that had been hiding in the mud to wrap around his hands and wrists. He pulled back, but in large numbers the vines turned out to be too strong even for him to resist and they pulled him down. He was left laying on his back, half sunk in the mud, arms pulled over his head, virtually immobilized.

He lifted his head to try to see what was happening. The vines were slithering around his legs in increasingly large numbers. The were gradually pulling them apart as well, until his legs were wide open. Numerous vines continued to wrap around his feet, sliding in between each toe and gently separating them. Suddenly, he felt his soles being stroked, almost as if they were being licked, each time another layer of the sticky slime being added. He couldn't help himself - he began to chuckle, and then laugh out loud. This almost appeared to drive the vines on, causing more to fixate on his vulnerable, scaly paws. He started laughing hysterically as his feet were tickled, until he realized with a bit of embarrassment that he started to get hard, his cock visibly standing up from body.

"S-stop it!" he said between laughs, not exactly sure who he was directing that too. Unsurprisingly, his had no effect. He could only curl his slimy toes and scrunch his sticky soles in a futile effort to resist.

Bowser was so distracted by the tickling, he failed to notice the vines that had been making their way down his arms until he felt something rub against his red haired armpit. He turned to face it, still laughing, and could only watch as the tip of one of the vines began rubbing him there, causing a new fit of laughing. Soon, a second vine was tickling his other pit, and the forest rang with the sound of his ceaseless laughter.

Vines began snaking their way around Bowser's chubby gut, leaving trails of sticky goo as they went. At first, a band formed around his middle, then, once they had a good grip, began to work their way all over his chest. Distracted by the tickling, the king barely noticed them crawl over his chubby pecs, and finally wrapping around his nipple. Through the laughter, he gave a loud, sharp gasp as his sensitive nipple was stimulated, and then again as it felt like one of the vines was actually pinching it. Soon, the other one was getting the same treatment.

By this point, Bowser was laughing so much there were tears in his eyes. "Stop, please stop!" he managed to cry. But it was no use - his sensitive, vulnerable paws and pits were constantly teased and tickled by the merciless vines.

By this point, almost every inch of Bowser's huge, thick, powerful body was covered in vines and slime. And soon, the vines began to fill in the gap. First, they began snaking over his face. He shut one of his eyes to keep from getting goo into it. Then, when his mouth was wide open from laughing, a few of the vines slide into his mouth. He tried desperately to spit them out, then bite them, but they were too powerful and rubbery to have any effect. Soon, the sound of his laughter was muffled by a half dozen slimy vines stretching his jaw wide open.

The vines had apparently saved the king's most sensitive areas for last, though if it was by coincidence or some sort of malicious intelligence, Bowser had no idea. His cock was already fully erect from the tickling, but if it could have gotten harder, it would have as the first vines surrounded his fact dick. Two or three wrapped themselves around his cock, the slime acting as a lubricant as they began stroking him up and down. One vine was dedicated to just tickling and teasing the underside of his uncut meat.

Another vine began to wrap around his balls, squeezing them gently. Eventually, it wrapped around each ball individually and began to gently tug them apart.

Bowser was completely overwhelmed by all the sensations, the feeling of his mouth being violated by tentacles while was was simultaneously tickled and stroked off. If he was in a clearer state of mind, he might have feared what was going to happen next, but at this point he was barely able to put two thoughts together.

The king was simply too weak to resist as the first vine flicked his sensitive, tight tailhole. He had no strength in his legs to try to close them. So as the vine pushed itself into his ass, he could only moan into the tentacles in his mouth. It pushed deep into him, before pulling out a few inches and slamming back in. At least the goo made his hole nice and slick. He had a moment of panic as a second tentacle pressed against his tailhole, but it slipped in with little resistance. By the time a sixth vine was forcing itself into him, he had started to enjoy the feeling of being stretched wide, a fact that made him turn red with embarrassment.

Completely covered and filled with the invading tentacles, Bowser could only offer the occasional wiggle as a form of resistance; otherwise, he was completely immobile and helpless. He found that, if he tried to forget the situation he was in, he was starting to enjoy himself. In a moment of weakness, he wished another tentacle would slip into him. As if responding to this, another vine slide into his already painfully stretched jaw, and yet another pushed into his rear.

Finally, enough was enough - Bowser just gave up the resistance and gave himself over to the tentacles. He stopped resisting and let the pleasure of being dominated by the vines wash over him. As he did, he felt his cock jerk and thick, hot ropes of his cum splattered all over his slimy belly. For a brief moment, he hoped this would satisfy the vines and they would leave him alone. Instead, this only seemed to make them more vigorous, sliding more quickly over his broad, scaly body. His dick only went to half mast before the combination of tickles, stroking, and fucking made him completely hard again. He tried a whimper, but nothing could be heard beyond the vines in his mouth.

Bowser's mind was so clouded by his treatment, he completely lost track of time. He started to count orgasms, instead - seven, in total, each one taking longer than the last, each bringing on a frenzy of new activity. His balls ached from being milked so much, his jaw and ass ached from being stretched wide for so long. Even his paws ached from the constant tickling

He was vaguely aware of it becoming darker, but it barely even registered until he felt a cold breeze across his skin. He realized he could barely see the leaves in the trees above him anymore, it had gotten so dark. As if to correspond with this realization, he felt one of the tentacles pull out of his tailhole. Then one pulled out of his mouth. Slowly, one by one, the vines began to retreat, leaving behind only their slimy goo, until only a few remained, wrapped around his scaly paws, still tickling. He didn't even have the energy to laugh anymore.

Finally, even those were gone. The king laid still for a few minutes, trying to get some energy back. Finally, he was able to get himself to his feet. He stumble forward through the darkness for less than twenty yards before collapsing against a tree. He rubbed a paw over his aching, slimy belly, then found himself falling asleep despite himself.

He had no idea how long he slept, but it was still dark when he woke up. He felt energy returning to his limbs, enough that he could resume walking. He didn't even have a destination, aside from putting as much distance between the vines and himself as possible. He didn't even care about the mud that seemed almost omnipresent now.

Finally, after walking for what seemed like hours, the horizon turned red with the rising sun. At least he had some idea what direction he was walking in now. The cold night air began to give way to a warm morning breeze. It felt good after hours of walking through cold mud with the slime of dozens of tentacles still sticking to his scales.

Suddenly, something caught his ankle.

Bowser collapsed weakly into the mud - they must be active in the day. He spread his arms and legs out, not even going to offer the pretense of resistance. He let his mind wander - how long were the days in early spring, anyway? He was only slightly surprised to see that he was getting excited at the prospect of a full day of being tickled and milked by the tentacles, his cock already getting hard and dripping as he felt the first tentacle begin to rub against his abused footpaws. It might have been the ridiculousness of the situation, or the fact that his toes were already being teased, but the thick, slimy king let out a deep belly laugh that echoed through the forest.