"Would my strong and powerful Master like to be let down now?" the alraune asked sweetly.
"Y... yes!" Senya gasped, writhing in midair as the green-skinned woman ran her finger along his rigid shaft, her ruby-red lips curving up in a smile. The blossom-covered vines of the nectar-filled pink flower she inhabited were wrapped firmly around his ankles and arms, pulling his limbs taut and leaving him totally exposed.
He was, of course, as naked as ever. His short brown hair was a sticky mess, and his slight, lithe form contorted in needy agony, pale skin slick and dripping with the juices of the alraune flower's aphrodisiac nectar.
"Are you certain?" Brigitte asked, arching an eyebrow. She rose up within her flower, licking those red lips, her face inches from his own. The fey's eyes sparkled. "Does he truly wish to lose all this?" she cooed, cupping her breasts. His eyes slid down to them helplessly as her voice turned smokey and seductive. "Perhaps he would like to slip back in here with me... and enjoy a few more hours?"
Senya bit his lip. "I... I..." He stared into her eyes and couldn't help but try futilely to lean in, even as her finger grazed up his sensitive, nectar-drowned cock. "B-Brigitte," he whimpered.
"I think he
does
!" the alraune exclaimed with delight.
"I do!" he whined, trembling. "P-please, Brigitte, take me again—"
"Take you?" Her eyebrows arched. "Make you mine? My horny, helpless, wanton plaything?"
"Yes! M-Make me yours!" He breathed in deeply, and the alraune's sweet, toxic scent went to his head within moments. Already, he could feel himself drifting. "Please, please, I—I want it—wanna be your h-helpless... helpless... um..."
Brigitte giggled. "My helpless what?"
"... play... thing..." His voice was flat and toneless as he stared deep into her sparkling green eyes.
He felt so foggy. So foggy and deep and helpless and happy and horny as her fingers stroked along his twitching cock. He longed to be hers again, to slip back into that warm, sticky flower and be locked inside Brigitte's warmth once again... bouncing against her, sliding in and out, trapped for hours in sweet, sticky bliss...
The alraune lowered back down, reached above his head, and popped a soft, juicy pink prisoner fruit right into his open mouth.
He stared at her dumbly, like a pig with an apple. "Mm!"
"Oh, you poor thing," she whispered, gesturing. Accordingly, the vines gripping Senya yanked him up into the canopy, then whirled back down, dropping him gently on the grass nearby the entrance to the clearing. "You just cannot say no, can you? But... even an alraune must show mercy sometimes, when her prey is so totally helpless. On your way, my sweet, submissive darling. Heavens know you've wasted enough time already. "
Senya lay there, panting on the ground, his cock tingling with need. He reached up and took the fruit from his mouth, but couldn't help but continue eating, letting the delicious juices dribble down his chin.
He staggered to his feet and started walking away, cheeks burning, unable to help himself. He knew that Brigitte had given him the fruit to make sure he 'took care of himself'. Like he was an invalid. A walking sex toy with no will of his own.
He heard Brigitte sighing, and wet noises started to emanate from the flower as she started masturbating once again. "Poor, silly Master," she said with a giggle. "You know, I don't think you could dominate so much as a hen harpy, could you?"
Senya bit his lip and managed not to answer as he tossed the fruit's pit behind him. There was no need to mention how the hen harpies had tied him down just last week.
~~~~
Senya walked along the path, trying to keep himself out of the daze by whittling. He'd recovered his carving knife from the side of the path, and after finding a large branch, had begun to carve. He hadn't done any proper carpentry in a while, but no harm in the hobby, right?
As long as he didn't cut himself. He knew from personal experience that anything so much as a sewing needle would inevitably be found by the rose hamadryad if it was left out here, and if he lost another day under the effects of her prickles...
Today, he was carving a newt. He'd gotten quite good at carving them—for some reason, newts were just about the only animal that came into the Ambrosia Ranch that weren't connected to some sort of fey, so he had lots of examples to model from.
Even carving with a sharp, probably-drugged knife, it was hard to keep from slipping off. It always was after spending too long with Brigitte. Part of him longed to just put down the knife and slip away once more, maybe even stumble back to her and beg for another few hours in her clutches... she would indulge him, too, there was no way she'd resist a second time...
No!
He shook away the thought just in time to avoid pricking himself with the point of the blade.
Careful, Senya Wetherdean. Careful.
Wonderful as a day drugged out of his mind in Kordesii's clutches sounded right now, he knew he'd regret it after. He could even see a few of her vines trailing across the trail, no doubt waiting for him to slip up and...
He paused.
Those weren't rose vines.
They were whorelip.
He stared in confusion. The whorelip bushes lined the path, of course—rosebush-like plants, but with bright crimson flowers that glistened with nectar. Most notably, the flowers resembled nothing so much as plump, ruby-red lips. The scarecrows had warned him to be wary of the whorelip.
But this bush was trailing across the path, and it had grown... vinier. Long, emerald-green tendrils trailed across the path and off it, and twitched occasionally, almost in warning. Almost as though they were lying in wait.
Senya started at the plant uncertainly, then edged to the side, off the path.
I'll just... go around this, then.
He turned and walked through the dense orchard, trying to ignore the way his cock twitched whenever he caught a glimpse of one of those flowers stirring, the lips seeming to undulate like they were actively sucking something. He had no idea what the whorelip could do to him, and he had no intention of finding out.
As it turned out, this plant had grown long indeed. It seemed to have set up new roots, too—the way a blackberry bramble could spread across wide swaths of earth. Senya was perplexed.
It made for a stressful walk, too. The orchard was densely packed already, and very dark thanks to a thick canopy laden with the sunset-pink fruits. It only grew darker the further Senya got from the path. The vines seemed to go on forever, blocking his way.
If this keeps up,
he thought nervously,
I won't even be able to see the whorelip anymore.
Then he might accidentally step on a vine. Then the vine might snake up and wrap around his ankle. And then...
He shivered, noticing one whorelip blossom stirring slightly as he stepped over it.
Careful, now.
Maybe it would be best to head back. He could try the other way around, or go back to Brigitte.
Ooh. Yes, that sounded nice. He nodded dazedly. Brigitte could help with this, whatever was going on here. Definitely. A part of him felt very sure that Brigitte would exactly know what to do for him when he got back there.
Senya was just turning to go when he heard the first whimper.
It was very small. Very faint. Senya frowned, turning and looking around. Then were came another—a gaspy, whispered moan.
Then, a tiny little, "
Ohyes
."
Heart pounding, Senya walked towards a nearby dense cluster of fruit trees. There was something in the middle of the little copse—a hollow of some kind.
He circled around it, being very careful to avoid any whorelip. As he walked, part of him knew that hearing a strange moan in the woods was not exactly a good reason to investigate—it was a reason to
get the fuck out of there
.
But what if someone needed help? What if it was... was... some sort of hapless prisoner who'd stumbled in here? Maybe a fey, even!
Maybe a fey who was luring him into her clutches, who would drug him, or hypnotize him, or just reach inside his brain and tug at the strings he or she didn't like until they went away and he was just an obedient little bimbo for their pleasure. Oh, fuck, that sounded so hot.
As he circled around to the far side, where a gap in the ring of trees allowed him to see inside, Senya's speculations encountered a new variable.
The whorelip was absolutely everywhere in this small clearing—which was perhaps ten feet across at most. It trailed over the trees, hung from the branches overhead, blanketed the orchard floor.
And in the center of the clearing lay a young woman who was absolutely entangled in it.
She had long, lovely red hair, and pale rosy skin the color of sweetpeas. Two curved, segmented horns arched from her forehead. A long, barbed tail slithered between her legs, and half-wrapped around her trembling form were two dark, velvety batlike wings.
She gasped and whimpered, biting her lip, as the whorelip planted kisses all over her curvy, naked body. She wasn't bound, exactly—she was free enough to rub her legs together, she was free enough to writhe and squirm, but she could not get up as far as Senya could tell. Her face was bright red, and her eyes were glazed with arousal.
"Oh, please," she cried. "Oh,
p-please
..."
Senya stared in shock. He eyed a pair of trailing vines hanging from branches right over the entrance to the clearing, then looked back at the seemingly helpless demoness. "Um... hello?"
The woman looked up, and her eyes widened to the size of saucers as she saw him. She pushed herself up and started crawling towards him, whimpering with every movement. "Help me!" she cried. "H-Help..." Her arms gave way as the lips kissed over her armpits, and she collapsed, giggling helplessly, and curled into the fetal position.
"Whoa! Um, okay." Senya put his hands up. "I'll... I'll go get someone who can cut you out of... here?"
He blinked. The woman was staring at him again, her lips quivering. She pulled herself forward, moaning. "
Help me
," she repeated, staring into his eyes. "I n-need... your
cock
..." Her voice took on a dreamy purr on the last word.
Senya swallowed. "Oh."
Really, he should have expected this.
"Please," she blubbered, "I
need
it, I n-need it so bad..."
"I don't..." Senya paused uncertainly as the whorelip again targeted her underarms and sides, and again she curled up, giggling like mad. "I should... should, um..."
"... need to
fuck
," the woman cried. "Need to
suck
! Oh,
please
, mister..." She batted her eyelashes. "Just... j-just let me kiss it once. Please? Just one kiss. If I c-can kiss it... kiss your b-beautiful cock...
oh
... I can f-finally...
cum
..."
Senya was more-or-less a stranger to orgasm denial. Aside from the beembos and a few other outliers, most of the fey here seemed quite happy to make him cum his brains out forever in their grasp. As such, he felt his heart going out to the strange woman.
But not enough to completely lose his mind. "Th-the whorelip," he stammered, eyes again darting up at those two innocent tendrils. "I can't... I don't..."
"They'll m-move!" the woman whispered. "They'll move, won't they?
Oh, p-please move...
