Ask Inverita: Medical Care and the Arousal Threshold I

I briefly consider using my magic to make some kind of splint the antenna, but ultimately decide to err on the side of caution and ask Inverita herself. Who is currently bliss'd out in the anemone fronds and high on her own reproductive instincts and aphrodisiacs. Right.

"Inverita," I ask cautiously, prompting the blitz'd Princess to lull her head over to me instantly. The movement is sharp, but the fine control is lacking so it just kind of flops quickly to one side as her eyes lock onto me. Her antennae wiggle drastically with the movement, but she doesn't even react to them.

Hoh boy.

"Yes~ Missus Jamesy~?" She slurs childishly, as if she were less than half her apparent age. Or in a very particular mood. And drunk. (Higher reasoning deteriorated; focused exclusively on colony-genesis, breeding drive, pleasurable sensations.)

Hoooh boy.M

"Your antenna is still broken. How do Myrmidons typically treat such an injury?" I ask, doing my best to ignore the stirrings of my own bodily instincts as I breathe in the aphrodisic air myself. And my own biological 'tastes' respond to her vulnerability.

"Mm, Queens or Workers usually spit on and play with it until it gets all stiff and hard and straight, Missus Jamesy~" Inverita drolls luridly, giggling all the while. "Then it'll be all better in a few days. Say~ Missus Jamesy~ - you're like, kind of a Princess right? Would you.... 'spit' on it for me~?"

Whaaat the fuck. (As an ant-derived-) No, no I get that. Why is she saying it like that? (Subject highly aroused and intoxicated; seeking genetic data per core colonial instinct.)

Inverita's legs twitch, and she nearly stands before deciding better of it and pressing herself deeper into the fronds instead. (Egg has been planted; core nest-building is commenced. Likely five to nine eggs remaining based upon subject's physicality.)

I didn't hear a damn thing but okay. That's happening.

"Please~?" She begs, "It hurts so much, like a lash in your eye. Won't you fix me up, Missus Jamesy~?" (Numb to pain sensations; blinded by anemone-induced endorphin rush. Honey-pot.)

Thanks, Appraisal. I couldn't tell.

"...I can't 'spit on it' to make it better, but I could wrap it in some light coral." I suggest, "With enough give to flex, or to keep it perfectly stuck, depending on which is better for you."

"Mhm, I want it straight and hard," Inverita enthuses immediately, still wiggling in the fronds with stinger out of sight. (Subject is-) I know, Appraisal. Thank you. "It won't heal right if it can bend, Missus Jamesy... although, I know Dracaena like you prefer things to stay... flexible, right?"

"It depends," I say, carefully approaching and pointedly looking at her face rather than back-end. Her eyes are cloudy, pupils fully dilated even as they track my movement independent of her face. Combined with her limp neck, it's honestly... kind of creepy. Like a doll staring at you from across the room.

That's a good thought to focus on. Keep things... grounded.

Carefully maneuvering around her to bask in the water a bit, I return to her side and start delicately encasing her injured antenna at the base. "Should I, um, grab it and straighten it out?"

"Oh yes~♥" Inverita coos, head lulling backward so she can keep staring at me. That's honestly as impressive as it is even creepier than her lulled to one side posture was a moment ago. Her abdomen shifts in the fronds again, brushing my tail and prompting my to slither a few inches further to one side. "Make sure to firmly, but gently, find the kink and... align."

It's a good thing her actual physical expressions are so at-odds with her phrasing.

Alright. All at once. There is no world where I touch that giant ball of sensitivity and she doesn't take the invitation to make this even more awkward than it already is. Carefully, I prepare a base for the splint and then look at her antenna to find the actual break.

This close, she smells sweet and wood- ahem, earthy. Like pinesol, but gentler. There's also a subtle airflow, because - (subject breathes via lung and sphiracle; disturbs air greater than mammallian equivalent) - well, that. (Notice: Proximity to pheremonal secretions likely to leave lasting mark for several days or weeks.)

...Great.

Alright. The break is near the antenna's natural bend - about two thirds of the way up before it would normally droop down compared to her healthy one so... Clap, seal, and-

"AHHHHHHH~HAAAAAEMMMMN!~♥!"

I nearly jump back as Inverita promptly rolls in ecstatic glee, mouth open in a vulgar shape as her entire body writhes. She stands up easily (abdominal swelling minimal; brood likely discharged) and rushes forward.

I slither back, but she manages to lift up and wrap her first two legs around me. Then the second pair hooks around the upper reaches of my tail, and I am intimately close with a very excited, sweet-smelling, super-drunk Myrmidon-Princess (Queen; brood has been laid.)

"That felt so good, Missus Jamesy~!" She says rapidly, slurring voice now a staccato as she pins my arms and levers herself up and down into my breasts. And manhood. Thankfully, she's still clothed and her sex - wherever it is - isn't exposed. "So good! Goddess, thank you! You're such a good sister!"

Twisting around, I manage to wrestle both her and my instinct to constrict around her down as my fully-erect member traces itself along her hard abdomen and carapace. She really doesn't want to let go, and pressing her against the ground like this only seems to be making her more excited judging from the wiggling... everything.

But she just gave birth and- (Myrmidon postpartum symptoms minor; chained births common during colony establishment.) - THANK YOU, Appraisal. I'm trying to plan ahead here, not indulge the high-as-a-kite Princess (Queen).

Despite my newfound strength, it's quite a task to haul us both into the anemones even though she's not resisting the movement per say - just separation from my body. There's a world of difference between bullying smaller beings around and trying to handle a creature of comparable mass I guess.

The fronds start massaging the both of us without a single word of command. Inverita basks in it happily and responds by pulling herself onto me even tighter. As for me...

Well. I gave them an excuse.

Somehow the things infiltrate the space between us to tease at my bare nipples, tickle my ribs, and even wrap around then aggressively lather their affection upon my cock and...

I cum.

The seed spills out and Inverita finally lets me go. Scuttling back, she starts playing with the spill across her skin like it's sunscreen or something.

I manage to pry myself off the anemone again, barely, and they droop in disappointment before resuming the 'pure masseuse' treatment for Inverita. "...I see how it is, you tricky bastards."

There's no response, of course: the fronds are 'too engrossed' in their current task (deliberately) for any kind of byplay.

But at this point, what's bothering me is... why did Inverita let go? (Subject maneuvering spilled seed onto genetic-auditing receptacles. Goal-) Oh. She wanted my babies, and now she's got them. Unless...?

[ AN: Poll is much shorter this time. I've noticed most/all voters tend to happen within a few days so... we'll see how it goes. If interactivity is that much lower than in the past, I'll extend it a bit. ]