Sensation rushes over you, leaving your hips spasming against the tendrils still held taut in your grip, their row of bumps still tingling all the way from between your cheeks to your pulsing clit. Your breath catches in the aftershocks, full body shivers gripping your body. You want to keep going, can barely keep yourself from doing that again, feeling the nubs sinking into your lips and kissing either side of your clit, desperate to feel them rushing over it again. But your own body is fighting you, your muscles holding taut, reacting like you'd just been injured, your body frozen waiting with all your attention focussed between your legs. Your hips shiver again, even more as, through force of will, you rock your hips forward into another rush of movement.
You groan, your voice coming unbroken through your helpless smile, your hips rocking back and forth all by themselves now, already beyond your control. You can feel the nubs rushing up and down you, rushing through your lips and flicking blissfully over your clit, each one sparking sharp pleasure deep inside. It feels so damn good, so much you can barely take it, your body continually clenching and shaking with each movement, as if trying to stop you, to pull away, all while your hips thrust faster and faster, riding the pleasure as it builds and builds and shudders on the edge of -
You gasp in surprise, and freeze, breathless, your hips stilled, feeling something very new! The back end of the tendrils - the other end to the one you're still grasping before you - has moved. It had seemed content to hold onto you, its nubs rising up and down between your cheeks, feeling indecently good, even more so where its tapered end kissed the nook at the base of your spine, feeling far better than you would ever have expected. But both new sensations now pale in comparison to the sudden, very direct contact of that same tapered end kissing your rear, pressing gently, nestling into you, making you want so much more.
It's the same want you felt when the tips dipped just into your pussy, pressing snugly into your opening, one thrust away from filling the unbearable emptiness inside, that one thrust felt as a physical need you could barely resist. And now you can still feel that emptiness, and worse, you still feel that need to have it filled, now focused on the warm, fleshy tip pressing meaningfully against your rear.
So many emotions fight for control - apprehension at the unfamiliar feeling, more so at how good it feels. Denial at the thought of an alien plant actually entering your body, stronger denial at how desperately you want it to! Your need to cum. Your wonder at how much better your impending orgasm could be if there was something inside you when you came!
Your breath shivers out of you as your hips slide just a further little back into it. You feel the nubs slowly flicking over your clit one after another, and somehow more clearly you feel the building pressure against your rear, a point of mounting firmness pressing into you. You can feel your skin being pushed, feel the tension keeping it closed, your muscles reflexively clenching against the questing tendril. But you've read about this, never tried but wanted to, was curious to. The key was to relax, right, that was the only muscle in the body you had to tense to relax. So... you breathe, force yourself to let go. Oh and lube, you recall, lots of lube, something that was certainly not a problem right now!
You laugh under your breath, the end of the sound shaking as you slide forward again, feeling the delicious flicking over your clit and in time with the easing of the pressure against your rear. Then, breathing deeply once, twice, you concentrating on feeling relaxed, feeling open, and slide back.
"Mmmmmh?" you moan, feeling it pressing into you again, the resistance still felt but much lesser than before. Your muscles seem to be easing, though they clench again as movement tightens your breath out of you, feeling the slick tip moving slightly against your opening. It feels indecently good, the warm slick tendril's movements felt with a disturbing clarity as they carefully explore you, drawing slow, lazy circles against you, just inside you. You make yourself relax, fighting your shaking body to do so, focusing on how good its touch feels as it circles you, round and round, flicks over your opening back and forth, its slick end narrowing to press just inside into a new rush of pleasure. You can still feel the emptiness inside you, so achingly clearly, the feeling now focused on the warm pleasure pressing just inside your body, so close. You still feel the stiff pressure keeping it out, but its so close to being overcome, your body feeling like its teetering on the edge of being entered, being filled, having that warm pleasure slide all the way into you.
Breathing heavily, focusing, wanting, you rock forward... and slide back into it, feeling your skin pressed in and resisting, only to be overcome all at once as it thrusts inside of you.
Next
You yelp as the petals tighten around your waist again, now with your hand trapped mid-reach down your front.
You snarl under your breath, about to thrash, then freezing. Gently, tentatively, you flex your trapped fingers, laying ring and index finger down on the tingling skin either side of your clit. You can reach!
Everything else becomes utterly unimportant as, heart pounding in your chest, you lay your middle finger down.
"GH...." the sound that escapes you is more air than voice, your free hand raised awkwardly to your side, held in the rictus of your body as a feeling of sharpest, sweetest bliss pulses down every nerve. You can't move, feeling like you're teetering on the edge of falling, the only thing holding you up the gentlest touch of your fingertip against your clit, turning its aching need into a feeling you see as white hot sparks behind your closed eyes, every miniscule tremble a minor explosion. You can't move, can't breathe - you move your finger, and all your voice leaves you at once in a strangled scream. Your hand has flinched away from your clit but your hips are still bucking, your thighs tensed as if trying to clamp down on the pressure spasming inside you. You're about to cum - and you're even more sure of that as the tendrils suck your nipples again, your impending orgasm surging, you feel yourself teetering, your whole body radiating with your frantic pulse and desperate snatches of breath, waiting for the tendrils to suck just once more and push you over the edge!
Instead, they let go.
You snarl in earnest this time, not caring how animal you sound as your free hand grabs at the retreating tendrils and leaves, all touches darting back from you, leaving you body falling from the edge of an incredible orgasm. Leaving you feeling instead how incredibly hard your nipples are.
You reach across to cover your breasts, not in modesty but in defense against the frigid air felt far too keenly. You gasp at the sudden touch and move more carefully, laying your forearm against one breast and wrapping your fingers one by one over the other, ever so lightly letting the warmth of your skin cover your hard nipples. Now, with that done, you can focus on the tensing ache between your legs, every pulse of blood through your flesh making you unbearably aware of emptiness inside you. If it isn't going to touch you, you'll do it yourse-
"FFAAAAA!" you cry out in shock as you feel it kiss you again, its wet touch dipping into your opening... and further back as well. Two touches, sliding apart as one slides shivering up between your lips, the other sliding up smoothly between your buttocks, your hips shaking in between as the two touches spread over you, one dipping just into your rear just as the other kisses your clit.
"AAAAHAA!" your voice is forced out of smiling lips, feeling the ache turning to pure electric joy, its aftershocks pulsing throughout you long afterwards. You cry out again as the touch moves, sliding back down the front and back of your body, collecting until the two touches nearly meet again - then sliding apart, running up your lips and cheeks and kissing you on both ends at once.
"AHAA-HAAA" you cry, your hips bucking, the pressure pounding against you from the inside. You feel your orgasm so clearly, shaking right up against your skin as the touch slides down to meet again, up your madly tensing lips to another electric kiss, down to collect at your opening behind which your orgasm shakes on the edge of release. Just one more touch, just one more - your whole body tenses as the touches slide apart one final time, rising up you on both sides, your orgasm rising to meet the final kiss that will finally, finally - the touch rises up, and around either side of your clit.
You yell wordlessly in rage, held in check only by the shaking pleasure gripping your body as you feel the touch rising and rising, splitting just before your clit and flowing up to either side of it. You barely have time to mentally curse this demon plant before you're gasping again, as much from your own hand suddenly squeezing your own breast, as from the feeling that caused you to do so. Its touch is still rising up you on either side, sliding up your lips and rear - but in between a new intensity is spreading. Something firmer, more distinct and intense, rising through the wet warm smoothness to leave you shaking and clenching against it. Your mind struggles to comprehend, and its only when the touches finally slow to a stop that you have a chance to try to understand.
You desperately try to take stock, the scientist in you going into overdrive to try and visualize what you can feel holding onto you between your rhythmically shaking legs. You can feel it holding you now, its warm and wet touch cupping your entire vulva, enveloping you all the way from the front of your hips to the groove of your spine. And in between, pressing into your shaking lips - points of firmer pleasure, a row of them pressing deeply between your lips and cheeks. They still feel soft, but tauter, firmer, like... nipples? No that's far too silly. Though describing them as a row of clits pressing into you would be equally silly. Speaking of which... the row of... nubs you decide to call them, their number parts your lips all the way up to just before your own clit. Just to where the smoother touch splits and holds on either side of you.
You could reach in and touch yourself with your fingers again - if you could keep them from shaking so much at the feeling - you gasp as your groin tenses madly at the remembered feeling, pressing the nubs more firmly between your lips. No - no you've got a better, more fitting use for this demonic plant.
You move quickly, your fingers grabbing the two, split ends on your waist. They feel warm and slick in your hand, more liquid than solid, elastically fleshy as you pull them up. You gasp silently as the nubs are pulled up along your vulva, the first of them flicking over your clit. But this only increases your grip on the tendrils, your whole body tensing with incredible strength, as if the pressure compressed in your hips is tensing your every muscle at once.
"My turn!" your voice growls out of you as, still holding it firmly against you, you rock your hips back.
... and lower again.
You breathe out heavily, your body releasing from a tension you feel only as it leaves you aching, as the kiss lowers down you again. Its warm, tingling touch parts your lips all the way until it dips ever so slightly into your opening, making your breath catch again. Then it rises, your breath groaning out of you as it slides up again, your strained voice shuddering as it nears, closer... and falls again.
"GNAAHAA-" you half groan, half wail. The feeling of it dragging its kiss down your lips, dipping into you, then up, up, up... only to NOT touch you, is, it's - it isn't fair!
The tendrils suck your nipples again, bringing a startled moan out of your involuntarily smiling mouth, momentarily caught in the lingering pleasure as the leaves cup and squeeze your breasts into another satisfying suck. But your smile quickly falls, the sharp pulses of pleasure only illuminating the building agony in your hips. The wet kiss slides patiently up... and down, up... and down, drawing your entire focus with it as you feel all too keenly how close its comes every time, so close, so....
FUCK WHY ISN'T IT DOING IT PROPERLY! You remember with a flood of fondness the feeling of a previous lover, a shockingly adept neo-goth named Lily. Her white hair set off the electric purple of her eyes, smiling up at you from between your legs as her tongue traced sweeping bliss up and down you, much like now. But unlike now, Lily knew just how to flick her tongue up at the end, darting shockingly over your clit, sliding down again and flicking to catch the top of your opening, leaving you shaking all the way back up until you were literally begging for more! And smiling Lily was only too happy to oblige.
But THIS tongue! If it even is a tongue - it doesn't flick at the ends, something you feel with painful disappointment now as you remember Lily. No this tongue feels much rounder, almost like the bulb of a tulip, fitting you perfectly as it dips just inside you, its very end feeling more intensely textured as it rises up between your lips to kiss just shy of your clit. You crane your head to the side, trying in vain to look beneath you - but there is only the flushed pink surface of the petals that hold you. What even is this maddening thing?
As if to confuse you more, a sudden change makes you gasp, and your hands grab onto the tendrils on your nipples for support and making them suck you stronger in reaction, leaving you doubled over panting. Your hips are still shaking in the aftershocks of the sudden movement, the feeling of that textured end suddenly flaring out, spreading its intense touch to reach the sides of your lips. And from there it traces down you again, a different, somehow less satisfying pleasure as it slides down the sensitive grooves between your inner and outer labia, pressing in either side of your opening and spreading you ever so slightly. Then they rise again, up towards your clit, higher, higher, higher than before your body tensing and shaking as you feel them rise past your clit. Past, their touch sliding up on either side of your clit without touching it!
You bare your teeth, hands clenching down on the slick tendrils - "MOTHERF-" but your curse is cut short as the tendrils react by sucking your nipples with equal force, the pleasure so intense and sharp it almost feels like pain, but sending a shockwave of pleasure filing your breasts and shaking lungs. And your breath continues to shake as you feel the twin touches spread your lips a little further open, exposing the emptiness inside to the insubstantial air, before rising up and sliding higher, higher, ever so lightly touching as they past your clit, enough to move the skin around it and make you gasp in joy, then grit your teeth in frustration.
Without even thinking you reach inwards with both hands, your sensitive palms pushed firmly against your stomach as you try to reach inside the bulb. As if to oblige the petals holding your waist shift, unfurling ever so slightly, loosing their hold to let your hands in.
You hesitate. A sudden stillness surrounds your realization. You were nearly able to escape before, when you stood up sharply before the petals could tighten. And now they've loosened again. Your legs tense slightly, testing your footing. Your hands stay holding your stomach, ready to thrust down your waist and bring yourself sweet release. But then what's to stop it tightening again, leaving your hands trapped inside with your achingly hollow groin? Fuck, but you're desperate!
You shudder as the tendrils suck and cup your breasts again, only realizing now that they had stopped. The touches on your vulva had stopped too, hovering either side of your clit, where they start to move, sliding just a little up and down, sliding your own skin up and down over your clit in an intense half-feeling that leaves your hips shaking and bucking madly.
"OH FUCK YOU!" you angrily thrust one hand inside the petals, which instantly tighten over it.
You stand bolt upright, the fleshy hold at your waist all that stops you from jumping a foot in the air! Another intense suck of your nipples draws only a strained, croaking half-sound from you, forced through your tensed throat as you stand on your shaking tip-toes, your entire focus concentrated between your legs, at the spot where something kissed you!
Your breasts alone feel so good, each squeeze blissful, each suck sharp and so sweet. So what would it feel like to be touched like that, but down there?!
That thought alone should be enough to get you out of there, panic and self-preservation forcing yourself through the over-sensitivity of your hands so that you can wrench the fleshy hold at your waist open. The petal-tips collected there are already straining to keep you in place, their collective hold far less secure with you suddenly standing so high. You could, should run. And yet, with your attention still focussed on the throbbing emptiness inside you, your shaking legs start to ease you lower.
You move very slowly, your breath catching at each suck, your entire being centered on the spot between your pussy and your rear where you felt the kiss before. You don't feel the petals sliding around your waist, collecting their hold more securely, as your entire awareness is collected on the nerves between your legs, straining each moment to feel that kiss again as you lower yourself towards it.
You hadn't expected it to move.
The next kiss plants itself directly between your lips, the warm wetness sinking just into you. You jump again, legs straining - but this time the bulb is ready, the fleshy petals tensing as they hold tight and firm around your waist, keeping you fixed in place. You're still tensed, your breath shuddering out of you in strangled whimpers, your eyes wide and unseeing, just feeling the wet warmth kissing you. It's soaking wet - or is that you? - almost burning hot - or is that you?! For a moment your legs almost betray you, your body desperately wanting to let go and plunge that kiss into the emptiness its reaching just inside of. But you don't, disappointment clawing at your sensibility as the latter compels you to move that touch away from its dangerous aim, rocking your hips forward to slide it away and upwards.
The feeling is incredible - the wet touch sliding up between your lips, bringing your entire focus with it as its kiss slides up between your shivering folds, higher, drawing ever closer to the aching self-awareness of your clit. The closer it gets the more you want it, the more you fear it, your legs clenching with the thought of touching that one pivotal point and turning its aching self-awareness into an unbearable flood of pleasure. Almost against your will your hips continue to slide the kiss forward, higher, slower, shivering as it reaches an inch from the base of your clit, one last movement away from finally touching you!
Your hips shake, still, and move the final inch to make contact. You pass out.
But only for an instant, a blast of golden-orange smoke filling your face, its chemical sweetness coursing into you. You feel it pulsing behind your eyes, staring with painful clarity at the open tendril before you, wafting its chemical smoke into you.
You lash out with your teeth, almost biting the cursed thing as it whips back out of reach. Its petals furl tightly, looking like a puckered mouth scrunched in disapproval.
"Oh fuck y-" your words are interrupted as a glob of pink-white hits you right in the mouth. You gag reflexively as it hits the back of your throat, spitting again and again. It tastes so rich, far too rich, the taste filling your mouth, your nostrils, your throat - oh no! You see the pink smoke wafting out of your mouth, the chemical reacting with the air and lighting a fire within in your nerves, spreading out into your body again. Your heart racing, you try closing your mouth to stop the reaction, feeling the sweet rich smoke flowing down your throat instead. You panic, and swallow.
Instantly you regret it, but its too late, the glob of richness sinking down inside you, leaving a trail of shivering awareness behind it. You feel the sensation hit your stomach, and explode.
"GAAAAH!" you cry out as waves of electric intensity blast through you, radiating from your stomach to your spread fingers and toes and all the way back again, leaving your skin singing everywhere it touches. You feel the air moving against you, blisteringly cool against your burning skin. You feel each drop of sweat as it runs down your body, like fingertips running teasingly down your shivering spine. And you feel the leaves dragging sweet pleasure around and around your breasts, squeezing a desperate moan out of you as their touch buckles you forward over them, your nipples sinking into the warm hold of the mouths. They suck, and you flinch backwards, your body arching as your voice cries out of you, as if unable to contain the feeling. And then you feel the kiss, still planted between your lips, remembered the instant it moves, sliding your lips apart as it drags its delicious touch slowly up you again, just like you made it do before. And just like before you feel it closing in on your aching clit, now so intensely hard and painfully self-aware that its all you can do not to thrust your hips down onto the kiss, not to thrash away from its impending touch, your body clenching rhythmically in growing indecision and anticipation as the kiss rises, rises, reaches the very base, and....
You jump awake, eyes suddenly wide - wait, you've done this before!
You blink, gasping at the recollection of your fingers and thumbs gently pressing your nipples, creating a sudden rush of sensation so intense you, you - you fainted? You don't feel like you fainted, you feel wide awake, more so with every breath you take. The air smells sweet, chemically so, a slightly saccharine acidity filling your nostrils, each breath in coursing electric energy through your mind.
You look down, and see before you the bulb-ended tendril, still open like a pink flower. But instead of spitting green neurotoxin or pink chemicals, it's breathing out a thick, golden-orange mist, tendrils of it wafting up and into your nostrils and rousing you to full alertness with its sweet scent.
Without thinking you swipe at it, the tendril darting back out of reach. Your heart is hammering, as much from panic as from the effects of the new chemical. Everything looks a little brighter and sharper, your eyes wide awake and whole body tingling with keen alertness - and the bulb seems satisfied with this, staying coiled overhead, furling back together with a last wisp of smoke.
You're so fixated on the bulb, dreading what new chemical torment it'll bring, that you don't notice the two other tendrils reaching around your sides.
"GHAAAA!" you cry out, arching fiercely into the familiar cradling of your breasts. Your hands reach out to grab the bulb around you, skittering across it, your palms still too sensitive to touch - your hands... you realize that you're not the one holding your breasts.
You look down, seeing two purple tendrils reached around your sides, their ends lighting to pink and flaring out into fleshy, rounded leaves, each about the size of a hand. And like your two hands did, the fleshy leaves cup your breasts, contracting to squeeze another moan out of you, and another, making you whimper a little as they let go. You gasp lightly as they touch their tips to your skin again, dragging their touch in slow, tingling circles around your breasts, feeling just like - just like when you touched them. It's doing exactly what you did before, the leaves mimicking your hands as they cup you again, their fleshy sides collecting inwards until they're holding just your nipples.
Oh no.
Gently, they pinch.
"NYAAAHA!" You're breathing heavily up at the sky, your back fully arched, heart pounding against the aftershocks of the feeling. They pinch again, and again you cry out, the sharp pleasure rushing into your chest, your heart thumping against it, and against the ache that rushes back in to its place, your hard nipples no sooner touched than filling with a need to be touched again. A need that turns to pure bliss as they're pinched once more.
"AAA, AAAAHA" you cry in time with each squeeze, falling forward the instant the leaves let you go. Your hands barely catch you, trying not to touch the bulb too firmly as you hold yourself weakly upright. You're panting, your eyes wide and alert - you didn't faint. Unlike before, where the first touch of your nipples was more than you could take, now the lingering effects of the orange smoke keep you wide awake and conscious, able to experience more pleasure than you thought possible. And its only touching your breasts!
You see and feel the leaves cupping your breasts again, drawing steady moans from you as they squeeze and move in blissful circles. Then they hold them again, cupping and holding them upwards ever so slightly, your nipples aching with need. What is it waiting for? Then you see two more tendrils closing in, their pink ends bulging delicately into small, round lips, glistening wetly as they approach. Hey, wait - your hands reach up too late. The tendrils sink onto your nipples, sucking you inside.
"AAAHAAAA!" you scream, the ache in your nipples rushing into the hot wetness and coming back feeling so radiantly good. It's so intense, feeling like a first kiss so long dreamed of, so sudden and so overwhelming it doesn't seem real! They suck again and you cry out, your hands gripping the tendrils, pulling at them, barely able to gain purchase between their slick surface and your oversensitive palms, pulling all the same before they - they suck harder to stay on.
"GHAAA!" your fingers fly apart, the feeling more than you can control, even more so as the leaves firmly squeeze your breasts, circling their blissful pleasure around the hot, intense feeling of the sucking tendrils. Each suck feels better than the last, the pleasure lingering in your breasts, circled and squeezed there by the leaves, then redoubled as the tendrils suck again. You can feel it building, each suck felt all the way down your arching spine, past your secured waist, down into your trapped lower half, where each new suck sends shivers down and deep inside of you.
You feel an incredible heat there, radiating around an aching emptiness, felt all the clearer for the sharp tingling awareness of your clitoris right above it. You're so fucking horny right now!
Then something kisses between your legs.
This is fanfiction.
The original concept belongs to Marjorie Green and can be found in the Flessik Bulb Art (page 1 and page 2), based on her story Freedom for Tara, Chapter 9.
What follows is an exploration inspired by the suggestions additions of Strawberry Wulph here.
* * *
You jump awake, eyes suddenly wide, staring around you at the strange alien jungle, its pink and purple colours settling too slowly into the shapes of leaves and vines. A sense of urgency fills you, as if you awoke from a frantic nightmare you can't now remember, leaving you only with the knowledge that you're in danger! Where even are you?
North Ridge, Research Quadrant A, Karagoss, Gasetti System - your memory offers the factoid with dispassionate haste. Okay, great - your conscious mind thinks - and why am I naked?!
Silence is all your memory has to offers, as you observe with mounting apprehension the nude skin of your arms and chest, glossy with a liquid coating that keeps you unexpectedly warm in the cool jungle air. And below your pale chest, you see only pink - an expanse of fleshy pink wrapped snuggly around your waist and billowing out around you in a large bulb, large enough to contain your entire lower half. The silky contact holding your waist is felt against your unseen feet, flexing experimentally against a surface far too warm to be the ground, a vague pulse sensed in your sensitive arches. The plant's heartbeat? Or your own, felt clearly hammering in your chest on the edge of total panic. What, the FUCK, is this?
Flessikae Vulgaris, Psuedoplant Family - your memory offers at last, accompanied by a gasp of sudden recollection. You remember roots and leaves, each carefully amputated with your plasma scalpel and placed into sealed botany containers secured around the belt of your hazard suit. You remember purple vines and pink leaves, dappled in the golden light of the midday suns as you journeyed deeper into the alien jungle. You remember the blinking red warning on your visor, adamantly informing you that you were leaving the carefully mapped Safety Zone. You remember disabling the warning, too excited in the exploration of such amazing xenobotanical specimens to be worried at nothing!
You remember an immense pink bulb, a flower bigger than any you'd ever seen, furled into a bell shape that stood almost as tall as you! You remember your impatience as your visor cycled through millions of silhouettes, wondering if anyone had discovered this amazing alien flower before. You remember disappointment as your visor shows: Partial Match: Flessikae Vulgaris, Psuedoplant Family, CAUTION: ranged neurotoxin attack! Remain at least 50 feet away at all ti- and then the warning interrupted by a glob of green hitting your visor, hard enough to send you staggering back! Your gloved hands frantically wiped at the liquid covering your visor, panicking as you heard and saw it steaming against the clear surface. Seeing the green steam BEHIND the visor, smelling its sharply sour scent, dimly registering your hud flashing warnings about overwhelmed air filters as you felt the steam flowing straight into your gasping mouth, filling your lungs with a heavy, warm feeling of sleep. You remember, very dimly, the feeling of long tendrils wrapping around your heavy legs, dragging.
You spy your hazard suit, or what's left of it, the white plates and grey patches of the garment strewn amidst the purple undergrowth on all sides of the pink bulb that now holds you upright. How - your question is interrupted by the sight of long, purple tendrils unfurling from around the base of the bulb, the plant's limbs slick with the same oily sheen that covers your nude body.
The plant UNDRESSED you?! The scientific implications of such an intelligent plant excite the xenobotanist in you, your mind mentally taking note of the range of movement and potential strength of the tendrils unfurling around you, rising up like the bars of a cage. It's only when one of them reaches towards you that your excitement catches. Yet some vestigate of scientific curiosity remains, noting that the end of this tendril is different to the rest, not tapered but bulging, the rounded end indented into six segments that open like petals, revealing a pink interior centered by a round, wet opening.
CAUTION: ranged neurotoxin attack - your memory repeats. As if in confirmation, you see a bulge flowing up the tendril's length, the opening clenching with the approach, shaking as the bulge gathers behind it. A drop escapes the opening, not green, but white, vaguely pink. A DIFFERENT chemical to the one that rendered you unconsci - xenobiologist in you notes as the tendril clenches, the opening spitting a ball of milky pink that lands hotly on your chest. You recoil back, the fleshy bulb around your waist constricting slightly to hold you in place as you try to back away from the offending impact. Your hands reach in reflexively, swiping at the chemical, splattering it onto the bulb around you. But it's already too late.
You see pinkish steam rising off the splattered chemical, all around you, off your fingers and off your chest, filling the air with a sweet, rich scent that makes your nostrils tingle as you breathe it in. You feel the tingling down the back of your throat, filling your lungs, expanding outwards. And instead of making you sleep, it makes you very much awake. Your skin tingles with awareness, starting at your chest and expanding outwards, covering your shaking arms, rushing up your neck and over your panting lips. And lower, within the bulb, you feel the tingling awareness reaching like fingers down your abdomen, flowing down your sides and back, down your clenching legs before shooting back up your inner thighs, collecting into a sudden throbbing warmth.
Your breathing is fast, a mixture of apprehension, lingering curiosity, and something else flooding your chest with a sense of mounting immanency. Your fists clench, but for barely a moment before your fingers fly apart again, shaking with feeling. Your hands still drip with the strange pinkish liquid, the sensation of tingling awareness greatly amplified there, so much so that merely touching your fingers together is almost too much to take. You look down at the fleshy bulb around you, trying to wipe your hands on it and succeeding only in making your entire body cringe at the intense feeling of skin on skin. And worse, more of the chemical still is steaming on your chest, your former efforts to wipe it off having succeeded only in spreading it over your breasts. Your very self-aware breasts, your skin shivering in the warm air, your nipples visibly firm, so much so you'd expect them to be aching painfully. Indeed they do ache, but not with pain, just with an excessive awareness of how exposed they are, how untouched.
Hesitantly, you bring your hands inwards. Your movements are slow, nervous, your breath catching as you watch your hands approaching your own chest. Very, very carefully, you hold.
"GAHAAA!" the sound of your voice is utterly unexpected as its wrung out of you, leaving you arched backwards and breathing hard.
Your breasts feel intensely smooth against your oversensitive palms. Your hands spasm reflexively, even before you give a soft squeeze and moan again, the gentle pressure sending a shockwave of pleasure all the way down your spine and deep inside.
Carefully, you straighten up, whimpering a little as the weight of your breasts falls more firmly into your cupped hands. Have they ever felt like this? What kind of chemical - you mind works rapidly, trying to remember if you'd ever read about the Flessikae Vulgaris before, who discovered it, how much they learned? Was it a satellite, a drone? No, definitely a person if they experienced the 'ranged neurotoxin attack', a group of people if they were then able to make it to safety and report it, instead of being captured and stripped and then - then -
Your thoughts crash into an icy wall. What, exactly, is going to happen to you? You look around warily at the plant that has captured you, stripped you naked, drugged you, and now - now is just waiting, its various tendrils curled inwards, as if watching you. No, don't be silly, a plant can't watch, you chuckle, your breath catching as the movement slides your breasts against your cupped hands.
The feeling continues, your breath shaking as you look down to see your thumbs stroking small circles on your skin, quite without you meaning them to. The rush of sensation fractures between your breasts and fingertips, each as sensitive as the other. Experimentally, you let go, an involuntary whisper escaping you as your breasts fall, feeling unbearably exposed and bare, until you touch them against with only your fingertips. You breath, steadying yourself, then slide your fingertips around your skin, your voice coeing as you do. Your not sure which is more sensitive, your fingertips or your breasts as the feeling slides in lazy circles around you, coming to rest with your hands cupping you again without meaning too, giving another reflexive squeeze. You bite you lip to stifle yet another moan.
Nope, can't decide which is more sensitive. Hypothesis requires further testing.
You can feel your heartbeat in your throat as you slide your hands to a new configuration, positioning one fingertip and thumb on either side of your erect nipples.
Gently, very gently, you pinch.
And black out.
