Ready to Serve

"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..."

And to Senya's amazement, the vines started to trail away, pulling back into the back of the clearing. Did she... control them? Or did she just understand their workings better than he did?

Well, considering she was clearly some sort of succubus, either one was possible. Senya swallowed.

A kiss, he knew, could be dangerous. One kiss could lead to two. Two could lead to her lips wrapped around the base of his cock, making him cum and cum until he would think he could see a skyfull of stars in midday. And if she was anything like the cupid...

He looked down and realized that he had walked right up to the demon. She was struggling to pull herself into a kneeling position, biting her lip with the effort as the whorelip continued to torment her. Still, she seemed almost intoxicated by his proximity—almost hypnotized by his cock.

"What... are you?" he whispered, heart pounding.

She looked up at him and stuck her lower lip out in a flirty pout. "I'm your needy little slut," she whimpered. "Please, can I kiss it, Mister? Can I?"

Senya hesitated. He watched numbly as one whorelip flower repeatedly kissed her neck, looking and sounding every bit as luscious and soft as the real thing—if not moreso. Then he looked down at the succubus's lips, which were just as luscious, currently partially opened as she breathed in his scent.

"Yes," he said softly.

She gave a sigh of relief, beaming up at him in gratitude. Her expression was so innocent, so utterly grateful, it caught him a little off-guard as she lunged forward, gripped him by the waist, and leaned in close.

Her hot breath wafted over his cock. Though Senya was already larger than normal, thanks to the constant effects of the prisoner fruit, he could have sworn, as he drew in his own shuddering breath, that his engorged cock was... growing.

She stared up at him with wide eyes, as if waiting for permission. He stared at her numbly, his knees quaking.

"Please?" the strange demon woman whimpered. "Please?"

She licked her lips.

"Yes," Senya said, his voice as small and frail as a robin's egg. "Gods, y-yes!"

Her face lit up in glee. She leaned in closer. Senya had just a moment to wonder if he'd just made a mistake before she planted a small, dainty kiss on the very head of his cock. It was almost chaste. Everything about it except her rapturous expression.

Senya nearly came right there. He groaned, trembling, his knees quaking—but she held him steady. He felt vines snaking around his arms to hold him up, and he gratefully leaned into their support.

"Another?" the strange woman whispered. "Please, can I... can I have another, mister?"

Senya struggled to resist the temptation to just... just grab her head and force her onto his cock. He couldn't believe how wonderful, how soft and moist and tender, her lips had felt on his sensitive member. He couldn't believe how she was teasing him now.

"I... d-don't even know your name," he managed.

She blinked, then giggled, batting her eyelashes as the whorelip planted dual kisses on her cheeks. "Tyfaeniallis. But you can call me Tiffany!"

"T-Tiffany..." He nodded frantically. "Yes. More. Please, more."

She blinked, then nodded. "Yes, sir."

She leaned in and gave him another kiss, this one much longer.. Her eyes closed tightly, and she maned softly, as if savoring the sensation of his throbbing cock against her lips. He cried out as her tongue just barely grazed his glans.

Finally, she pulled out again, blinking wide crimson eyes at him. "Another?" she whispered. "Please?"

Senya bit his lip, overwhelmed by her brazen teasing. He stared deep into her gleaming eyes and felt an almost overpowering need to take charge, to grab this little slut by the back her the head...

But all he could bring himself to do was pet her hair and nod.

She beamed and leaned in again.

And this time, she took him into her mouth. Just the tip, but as her luscious lips slid over the head of his cock, Senya nearly screamed in pleasure.

He was totally leaning back in the vines, now, but they weren't kissing him—just helping him remain standing. Dimly, he felt a rush of gratitude towards the hellish plants. How kind they were, although really, he wouldn't exactly mind just falling to his knees before this demonic temptress. It just felt natural.

Tiffany was moaning like a wifwolf in heat as she suckled daintily at his cock, her tongue lapping over his sensitive head, the look in her eyes positively beatific. He stroked her hair, and she moaned louder, eyelashes fluttering. It was like she was feeding off of her own submission. She slurped and sucked desperately at his cock like it was the most important thing in the world to her.

Senya, totally in thrall to his own pleasure at this point, couldn't easily disagree. He was gasping and moaning, bucking helplessly into her warm, wet mouth as her tongue swirled around him. He'd already been already horny from earlier, and this woman had incredible technique.

"Oh," he gasped, trembling, "god, god, please, please, please!"

"Mm?" She blinked up at him, and redoubled her attentions. "Mm!"

"Yes!" He was quivering in her grip. "Please, more, more, m-more—oh, p-please, let me—let me cum!"

She blinked up at him. She seemed almost confused. "Mm?"

Oh, gods, she's—she's still teasing me. Senya could barely think straight.

"Please let me cum!" he cried. "Please—oh, gods, thank you, I can't—can't help—m-myself—" He was breathing heavily, gasping for air. All his attention was centered into holding off his climax. "Please," his voice broke on the word, "your pet n-needs... oh, oh, fuck, he n-needs to cum, Mistress! C-can't—"

And as she stared up at him, she abruptly stopped sucking.

The contrast and shock were too much. Senya's eyes widened in horror even as he came with a disappointed scream. His cock throbbed and spurted a little into her mouth, and she swallowed, still looking... puzzled.

He whimpered as the ruined orgasm drained from him. His mind was reeling, spinning, lost in intoxicating humiliation. "Please, Mistress," he whimpered, "I... I didn't mean to..."

She pulled off and started licking his cock, frowning. He gasped and trembled from the attentions. Her tongue was long and sinuous, and her licking was fast and affectionate. But she seemed troubled. "Forgive me, Master," he heard her mumbling. "Slutty girl was bad. Slutty girl ruined Master's pleasure."

He stared into her ashamed eyes as she licked, his cock twitching with every touch of her tongue.

Senya felt like there was something going on here he didn't fully understand. But his mind was already reacting to the ruined orgasm, telling him he needed to submit more, telling him he had been disciplined. He knew he needed more. The question was, would Mistress give it to him?

Maybe if he was a good boy.

His brain clicked back into place as her licking started to have an effect on his engorged, drugged, brainwashed cock, and he felt himself melting once more into her mouth.

~~~~

Tiffany wasn't quite sure what she'd done wrong. The boy had come in her mouth, and yet... he was still here. Something wasn't right about all this. As she licked, the demoness's mind raced, searching for her mistake.

Incapacitate herself in whorelip and edge herself into a delicious, submissive haze, check.

Lure the boy to her, check.

Beg him to let her suck him, check.

Tease him until he forced her to suck him dry...

Not check.

She gave his cock a long, adoring lick, savoring the lingering taste of his cum on his member—even though it lacked that delicious seasoning a soul would provide. She stared up at the handsome boy, admiring his slightly glazed hazel eyes and cute little pout, salivating slightly at his naked, alraune-juice-drenched physique. Just looking at his cock made her pussy clench in anticipation.

He hadn't forced her. Hadn't taken charge. He'd called her Mistress! He'd begged her! She shuddered at the thought. That was a succubus's game—a dull game, in the incubus's opinion. Where was the fun in taking charge? It was so much more delicious to be used, to let the mortals fuck your brains out even as they came their souls away.

She couldn't prey on someone who refused to Lie Above. And if she couldn't submit fully and perfectly, the incubus could not claim anything from his orgasms, no matter how glorious his pleasure and hers might be.