Menta sang a strange, gleeful song as the vines carried Yathi through the forest. Yathi moaned and wriggled, desperate to touch herself as the vines tormented her every sensitive area. Menta seemed to love this display, but Yathi couldn't help it. She just needed to get off now. Everything else came second.
"Please!" she cried, heedless of Menta's delighted giggling. "Please, just let me—
fuck!
" Her whole body rocked as one of the smooth vines slicked right over her cunt, slithering along it with agonizing sensation. It was almost painful.
It didn't help that Menta was just a few meters away, gleefully using the same vines that carried her to pleasure herself. The catgirl's eyes were half-lidded as she forced one thick vine in and out of her, but always she watched Yathi with the fascinated gaze of a predator.
She never spoke. She only laughed, and moaned, and let out satisfied sighs that were a bit too long when the vines took her to each orgasm. Every orgasm was pure, liquid torture to witness.
Not even the Thriae could be this cruel, Yathi thouht, unable to suppress some longing for the wasp girls' pure, simple domination. Yes, they would mock her, and force her to submit, and degrade her until she was barely human. But they would make her
come
. They would make her come until she was a squealing honey sprite, then, if they ever did get bored of her, throw her to a honey pool, where her peers would make her come even more. Someone like her would be subject to endless humiliation, endless sensation.
But she would get off.
Yathi struggled to keep these thoughts back, but they were persistent. They lingered. And as the sounds of yet another woman achieving many healthy orgasms reached her ears, the thoughts gained traction.
For there, down below, next to the edge of an enormous pitcher plant the size of a small oak, were two Thriae. Yathi felt her pussy clench at the sight. Blonde hair, golden eyes, waspish figures. The Thriae were the epitome of beauty as far as Yathi was concerned. Yathi recognized one of them: Ditzy, airheaded Kifina, with breasts the size of melons and a brain the size of a honeybee. The other, a more petite woman—albeit still with the ridiculous figure—Yathi didn't know by name. They sat on the leaf of another massive plant alongside a lone catgirl, giggling at the screaming plight of a young woman beside them.
The woman had bronze skin, copper red hair, and glimmering green eyes. Her lips were unusually lush, and as they got closer, Yathi noticed they had a curious sheen on them, like glittery gloss.
Pitcher dryad,
she thought, gulping. While most fey that used chemicals just settled for putting the chemicals in the victim's body, pitcher dryads were quite happy to let their victims go free once they'd had a kiss or two. One kiss was all it would take.
Of course, she was currently getting rammed in the cunt by a runerod the girth of a small constrictor snake.
The dryad screamed as another orgasm rushed through her, to the delighted cooings of her Thriae lovers. They and the catgirl looked up, excited, as Menta and Yathi descended.
The catgirl's eyes widened.
"Oh,
fuck
," whispered the catgirl, ears twitching, "is that
her
? Oh, fuck. Holy shit."
"Mm-hm!" Kifina beamed. Eyes still locked on the helpless Yathi, she pulled the runerod out of the spasming dryad and started to move towards her own pussy. She licked her lips. "I forgot how
hot
she was. Can't wait to... to..."
Before she could thrust inward, the other Thriae grabbed her hand. "Kifina, remember? The pitcher dryad's juices..."
Kifina blinked. Her hand went still, the runerod mere millimeters from her oozing, honey-sticky cunt. "Ooh! Right! Heehee! I'm such a ditz."
"Yes, Kifina," said the other Thriae, biting her lip. Through the haze of need, Yathi was surprised to see her acting so deferential. Thriae society basically ran on who dominated who; surely someone as stupid as Kifina couldn't dominate so much as a lust sprite.
"Don't wanna get
addicted
," sang Kifina. Her blond curls bounced as she turned to lock eyes with her companion. She held the runerod up to the other Thriae's face. "But you?"
"Um." The Thriae squirmed, clearly smelling the pitcher dryad's famous aphrodisiac. Yathi did, too, as she watched this from above. "Shouldn't."
"Aw, Vissy," Kifina cooed, moving the runerod closer to the Thriae's quivering lips, "Just a taste. You know she tastes
good
."
Vissy was leaning forward, and Yathi was sure she would have been witness to a very permanent kind of social domination had the catgirls not interfered.
"Now, now," Menta said, giggling as she alighted on the leaf, "let's not be silly dears, dears."
"Menta!" the two Thriae squealed, leaping to their feet and grabbing the catgirl in twin loving embraces. Yathi watched enviously as they kissed all over the startled—but delighted—catgirl. She noticed Kifina's runerod journeying towards Menta's crotch—
Only to be grabbed by the other catgirl. Kifina noticed this and blushed, pulling away from Menta.
These alliances—and the friendships within Thriae ranks—really were fascinatingly complex and ever-shifting, Yathi reflected. Thriae were clearly constantly trying to one-up even their closest allies. But then again, their society was one wholly based on domination and also
why
weren't they
fucking her already
?
"It's been too long," Menta gushed, kissing each cheek of the giggling Kifina. The kisses seemed to linger a bit longer than was strictly traditional, and the third-through-twelfth kisses, trailing down Kifina's neck towards her breasts, definitely weren't. Yathi was almost drooling with excitement. Soon those lips would be on her soft skin, and then...
But she wasn't heading towards the leaf, she realized, as the vines took her straight past. And down.
"No!" she cried, trying to lunge for the lip of the pitcher. But she was bound too tightly. She slipped over the edge, helpless to arrest herself, and descended into the pink-and-green dimness of the great pitcher plant.
The smell that accosted her nose was sweet and sharp. She tried to hold her breath, but the vines made it hard. They squeezed her belly too tight to take in deep breaths.
"Heehee! She's really set up well for us." She looked up as she lowered into the plant. The two catgirls and two Thriae were watching her from above. Menta was the one who'd spoken. "I can't
wait
to see how she handles
this
."
"She's been
suuuch
a good girl so far today," breathed Kifina, glancing back at someone unseen. Yathi realized that they were referring to the dryad—which meant that she was the 'this'. "You're gonna be a good girl and make sure we have lotsa fun, right?"
Yathi heard a buzzing sound, followed by a wordless moan.
"It's out of her hands," Menta said slyly. "It's all up to the nummy nutrients now. Isn't that right, pretty girl?" The question was directed at Yathi.
Yathi remained determinedly silent. She refused to breathe in more of this stuff than she had to. If she could reach some edge of the plant, she could probably use her little razor to cut through the fiber. Pitcher plants weren't that tough. But it didn't matter how horny she was, she needed to keep her head, or she was—
"Bimbo," sang Kifina from above, "be a good girl! Be polite to your
hosts
!"
"Yes, M—" Yathi cut the whispered reply off. She'd desperately tried to hold it in, but this was the Thriae. They owned her. Or almost did, anyways. And she just needed to
cum
. This set off a brand-new chorus of giggles up above, of course.
She was halfway down the massive chamber when Kifina called again, in syrupy tones, "Sugarslut?"
Without thinking, Yathi's mouth opened. "Yes?"
She quickly closed her mouth again, but her lips had begun to tingle now. She'd forgotten the nickname they'd used for her when she'd been... under. Just hearing it made her pussy clench longingly.
Kifina smiled indulgently down at her. "You're gonna take some nice, deep breaths, now," she cooed.
Yathi resisted the urge. She breathed in, struggling against the compulsion to...
Oh, fuck.
Oh, fuck.
With just one full breath, Yathi's world was plunged into ecstasy. She let out a gasping cry, shaking in her constraints. The sensations that tore through her were like a hurricane on reeds. She felt like she was flying. On a dildo the size of a horse.
An actual horse.
Once she'd started breathing, it was impossible to stop. Of course she had to breathe in that sweetness again. What was the harm? She was already as good as broken anyways.
"N-no!" she cried, struggling to resist that despair. "I—I won't—won't give in—
in
—
in
—"
She let out a frustrated whine as the vines continued to tease around her pussy, never quite entering, never quite satisfying. She needed more! More of this taste, this scent, this—
Her big toe finally touched the cool, thick substance at the bottom of the pitcher plant.
Her brain went up in fireworks.
It wasn't smooth and slick like honey. This substance was thick, and grainy, like sugar water. It sent thrills up her whole body just from this slight contact. She had to get out of here now. She didn't want to think about what would—
The orgasm whirled through her, and Yathi screamed. She thrashed in her constraints. The sensation was like a million tongues and lips on her foot. It was like her foot was suddenly an erogenous zone. She could never fight this, she knew immediately. It wasn't mind control. It wasn't even mind-altering. She had simply never felt pleasure like this in her life.
And it had only touched her foot, in the most humiliating orgasm she'd ever experienced. She looked up, panting as the orgasm started to subside, though she was already building towards the next.
The Thriae and Catgirls watched eagerly, beaming at her. They looked oddly expectant. Like they were waiting for something else.
Then the vines fell away, and so did all semblance of Yathi's world.
She plunged into the waters, and deep into heaven. The thick fluid ripped pleasure from her body like fruit from a vine, harsh, unforgiving, unending,
perfect
. It rushed into her cunt, over her breasts, into her mouth, between her asscheeks, caressing every surface like it was the most sensitive clitoris in the world.
The vines wrapped around her arms again and pulled her up as she choked and gasped. She rose up so her head and shoulders were above the surface. Her vision was blurred and misty. Her ears were waterlogged, but she could distantly hear cackling.
But none of it mattered before the pleasure. It was perfect. Exquisite. She knew then that she would never, ever willingly leave this place. She loved it. She loved the Thriae and catgirls for bringing her here. It felt too good. Too overwhelmingly good.
And then the vines plunged beneath the water and began to stroke her clit again, and as the fey above watched and masturbated gleefully, tears of joy coursed down Yathi's dimpled cheeks.
~~~~
Brist ran without strategy. He ran without thought. He ran without anything save pure instinct and adrenaline.
So it wasn't really a surprise when they caught up with him.
At first, Brist thought he could avoid them. Even without his crystals, he thought he might be clever enough. They leaped from tree to tree, so he tried to run for clearings, but there were always brambles and vines in the way. He could hear their laughter echoing through the forest.
Then someone slammed into him from behind, and he hit the ground. The fall didn't hurt—the grass was soft, and inviting, and everything felt warm and perfect and—
"No!" he cried, feeling the catgirl kissing the back of his neck even as she held him in place.
