Serafina forced down a whine as the plant vine, now three of them, rubbed suggestively up her torn skirt. Her mind ran in circles, repeating and screeching she was late for class and that yes, she'd left her suppression aids at the boarding house. She lifted up her head, wincing at the sight. Miles and miles of coarse vine-infested roadside were between her and the stupid trail she'd tried to rush through.
And that was truly something, tumbling her way to messy, muddied clothes and an poor excuse as to why she was late.
Serafina's eyes watered. Oh, she did it now. This wasn't a ditch nor a hole but a ravine in the Wickwood Forest.
Wickwood.
The human girls at school called it Wicked Forest and they'd make jokes and harass her if they knew she'd fallen here. As a magic hot spot, sundered as her instructors at school called it, she'd be most 'influenced' by the magic at play.
That wasn't true, by the way.
Sundered magic affected humans and Cattalia
alike
but they wouldn't listen and-
The strap of her school bag waved at her as it rolled on by, the flap horribly open. Papers and other sundries flying out were snatched and quickly buried by the vines scrambling for what disturbed them. Her quills, her ink pots and most importantly, her textbooks, went silently into the earth without even as much as a farewell. With a splat, her bag landed on the ravine's floor-line, three inches below the heels of her brown boots.
Dismayed, Serafina slumped against the soil molding around her body. Not sharing her mood, the vines snaked and dug, making holes and shaking out a rattle-like sound. Seeds, she thought. It sounded like seeds in a tin can. Serafina couldn't recall seeing plants so lively. Not even in the academy's prized greenhouse, so full of exotic and rare plants.
It was in the way they touched and combed her ginger-red hair, weaving their way up into her now frumpy locks and to the ponytail holding it all together. Before she could turn her head, her yellow ribbon fell around her shoulders. She was crowned in her crimson curls. Since she turned nineteen, she been considering cutting her bushy locks but they made her tan horns appear smaller in comparison. Serafina snorted as the weight of her waist-long hair gave way to the wind and vines, becoming much more manageable.
Then she noticed how the little buds bloomed around her, poking their plum-colored heads out of the hillside. Visibly releasing golden clouds of sparkling pollen into the air. Within seconds, the mud and dirt and outdoorsness she'd been stomaching through her sore nostrils gave way to tangier aromas. Now she smelled citrus, honey, melon with just a hint of vanilla. These were her favorite scents, homesick as she was, and not surprisingly, the same smells she'd sprayed on herself this morning. But her perfume paled in comparison to what the vines made in earnest and naturally so rich and vibrant.
Unnatural plants they were, Serafina recalled one of her lesson on the stranger things that lived in Surfeit, their world. They, the plant vines, purple with even purpler buds, are faunaweed. Or at least, they were before they were harvested of their fauna. From their response to her arrival to the slow and steady way they arranged themselves to make room for her in the ravine's hillside, they were interested in her presence.
Two vines, oddly slick with fluid and their tips prickly, prodded the back of her knees. Her bones rattled together as her knees slammed into each other. Without her permission, her body humiliatingly bucked up to escape the sharp prod. Fluttering up her pale, chunky thighs, her light-red skirt rose scandalous inches. Her cotton white panties were exposed, contrasting against her paler skin and the thighs that hardly saw sunlight at all. Blood rose to her cheeks as she imagined a passer-by catching her like this.
It was a hot day after all and she certainly couldn't be blamed on how her sweat made her clothing cling to her body.
How her panties hugged her pussy dearly, making a outline of her private place.
A map of the places to be touched and stroked and
fucked-
She was clearly thinking too much.
Serafina dug her boots into the soil to prevent any further tumbling and found her boots were sinking carelessly in as a result. In seconds, she sunk to her knees in the dirt. Caught in a wide-legged stance that left her little dignity at all, her skirt bundled high up on her hips. Stupidly pulling down her skirt with her occupied hands or risk falling even further into the ravine wasn't a sort of question that need an answer.
She kept her grip on the ravine's hillside and tried to keep her eyes busy.
Her poor attempts of distracting herself weren't working as well as she liked.
Looking down, her lower legs half-submerged in the hill and looking out, the ravine's trail and the likelihood of someone eventually passing made her head ignite in fantasies that she shouldn't be having. It wouldn't take much to get out. She had weak magic but she'd been train in basic fire spells and other things that magical plants such as the faunaweed wouldn't like very much.
But the problem of even lifting a finger to escape is that secretly, shamefully, she was beginning to enjoy herself. Time was ticking away, the forest morning finally getting in full swing. Birds chirping. Animals frolicking. Vines seducing. She was
already
late and there couldn't be anything wrong with being
later
to class. It made sense, didn't it?
Serafina wiggled her feet and found them restrained, rope-like vines in both strength and sizes shackling around her ankles. It oddly thrilled her, this hold against her body. An excited breath, husky and low escaped her lips and her slowly fading blush rose once more. Struggling lightly, she tested her limits. She lifted her foot, kicking for a better hold with her heel. The vine around it increased its grip, firmly maneuvering her boot back where it was.
Then, as if amused by her action, another vine slithered into the open space of her boot, sliding right in while pushing the shoe off her foot. It rubbed her toes, massaging the ticklish skin there. Serafina tried to yank her foot away but there was no relief to be found. It rubbed aggressively against her heel, tickling her greatly and making her eyes wet with grief. And worse still, the sensation went everywhere in her body. Making it shudder and shake.
Serafina laughed in through her nose but couldn't stop the jolts of pleasure collecting in the space below her belly.
The tickling went on longer than it should, longer than she'd ever been tickled, and the ticklish feeling gave way to more sensitivity to her foot. The rubbing slowed into long, steady strokes but the damage had been done. Her foot being rubbed felt so, so good that she stepped into it, wanting more. Her tense shoulders released and her sore muscles relaxed. She gave a sigh of enjoyment. Then another vine did the same to the other foot, subduing any resistance from there. The foot massage was very much welcomed.
But the vines, now covering her wrists while she was distracted, and pulling her flush against the hillside wasn't as well-received.
Her breasts bounced from the sudden movement, clapping together with a hearty, sloshing sound that made her wish she could turn into a tree. Her horns could be branches. Her feet could be roots. And trees didn't have anything to worry about at all. No boys to be leering. No girls making cracks on how she should be in the academy's animal pen with the other magical creatures.
Why couldn't she have been
born
human? What's the point of
looking human
if it meant that real humans would always loathe and only tolerate her. No friends. No peers. She was just a freak taking up space in their class. And they loved, oh how they loved, trying to grope her breasts. All of them. The girls and the boys.
A bovina's milk was a valuable ingredient for potions.
She was just magic tits with magic milk to them.
Bigger than apples but terrible for her social heath, Serafina's breasts pressed hard and fast now they had the chance to make her hate them so much more. From her fall, her bra became slightly unhooked and with no suppression aids to quell their mutiny, her breasts seized the opportunity. Filling up with milk, her tit-flesh burst out of her white bra's cups, her skin ruddy and tender as her titty trouble-makers increased to another size. Her soft mounds rippled. Straining the straps of her bra until they were in tatters, brave threads still holding on.
From the sweat running down her body, her white blouse glued on to her swelling breasts, practically see-through. As her hands were restrained, she couldn't cover her rousing nipples or push her tits right back in her ruined bra.
Serafina gritted her teeth, trying to use that mantra she used every day once school began to keep her feelings in check. If she didn't have these breasts, the girls would be nicer to her. If she didn't have these horns, she would get asked to go on holiday and school trips. If she didn't have this tail, she could have been chosen as head girl. Her grades were high. Her scores excellent. But if she wasn't a bovina, her life would be- Different!
Better.
So why should she not hate her breasts? It was all their fault. She tried all she could at the academy and none of it was never good enough!
Looking at her breasts now, big and hers, she couldn't, she wouldn't hate them. Not here. Not now. They were lovely, fertile things. Her nipples, like rosebuds, pearl-pink and bright, perked through her shirt. As they hardened, the skin contracting, they brushed against the fabric and sent shivers down her spine.
Ah, she couldn't remember her breasts being a thing of pleasure.
They were supposed to troublesome, unruly and yet, she couldn't stop staring. With a slow roll of her hips, her great mounds moved, nipples perked and hard and drizzling white, silvery milk as she sought them. Her deliberate movement caught the attention of the vines and they snaked up and across her clothed mounds.
The vines weaved around her nipples and pulled, playing with them lightly. Serafina made a face, her eyebrows bunching together as she got used to the new sensation. Plenty of classmates had tried to touch and squeeze one of her nubs before but she remembered it all hurting and the shame that came after.
Were her breasts
really
supposed to feel
this good
by being touched?
Another vine went to the bottom of her blouse, right where the last button sat and went right in. Between the space of where fabric met button, it dove inside, wrenching upwards and tearing the garment into. One by one, her buttons went and her belly became bare as the vine continued. With cool air touching the vulnerable skin, Serafina drew blood by biting hard on her lip, in grief, unable to tell if she was being aroused by shame or pleasure. Her breasts
weren't
supposed to see daylight! Her body
didn't
deserve to be touch so gently.
She hated her breasts. She
hated
