None At All

Sandra felt the heat of her conflict raddled body clash with the soothing cool chill of night. The energy of adrenaline, terror, excitement, and arousal swirling within her, pressure building in need of **** release.

Glaring at the shadows stalking around her, wondering in **** suspense just what they were waiting for as she swatted out at one of the shadows again, gasping as her arm locked stiffly out, a surge of pleasure tinged with slight pain as she swung the stuck outreached arm back lashing out with her other one only to grow in puzzlement as that one grew stiff as well.

Lowering her arms for a moment Sandra’s mind tried to think for a moment in puzzlement about what was happening, her legs below her knees having stiffened like her arms minutes ago, anchoring her in the seemingly eternal darkness of terror. The groaning creak resonating around her with each stiff movement.

Did they **** her? No, they couldn’t have. All they did was pour wine on her chest...

Sandra stopped her thoughts on that, questioning the blue glow that was parting the shadows before her. The warm tingle of electric pleasure that hadn’t really ever ceased from her chest since they poured the wine on to her as the flower mounted on her chest suddenly surged into a near climax spreading from her chest.

Gasping in unexpected pleasure, and arching her back Sandra reached her arms upwards only to have them seem to stick there, effortlessly. Looking down trying to regain her breath she noticed the brilliant, glowstick like blue glow of the flower on her ruined and torn dress. It was obviously rooted in her breast, sitting atop where her nipple should be.

As the climax plateaued, she breathed heavily gazing upon herself, and her surroundings. She grew more aware of the root like tendrils spreading out from the blossom on her chest, slowly they were glowing a dark green, reaching out beneath the remnants of her torn dress and increasingly speckled skin, along her arms, and down her legs. Part of her felt it add to her terror, even more so as it was overwhelmed by wonder and pleasure growing with each pulse of the glowing roots.

As the wonder displaced her emotional turmoil, she felt the hunger for pleasure that had been growing in her, Sandra’s thoughts of her predicament began to excite her, here she was, bound to the ground by her roots, arched slightly forward, her arms stiffened like tree branches bound to the sky. Images of women chained up naked flooded her mind.

The glowing grew with each laboured breath in response to her acceptance of her arousal. Then as her face shifted from fear to primal lust she gasped, thoughts of being bound in place, waiting for any punishment or exploitation over running any resistance and fear she had left. No longer did she think of other women being bound, she thought of being bound herself, anticipation for how these two animalistic men might use her driving her crazier.

She swayed her body to the full extent she could, tugging on her supernatural restraints, her eyes making out greater details in the darkened wood lot. Glancing over her shoulder she grew excited to see the coyote coloured werewolf's muzzle tuck up her skirt, his tongue slowly dragging up between her exposed ass cheeks.

Glancing forward she glared submissively, and voraciously at Omar as he stood up erect and reached out to rip her dress free with his claws. His large canid cock catching Sandra’s eyes and provoking a sudden urge to taste the perversely twisted cock. To feel its knot swell and take hold deep inside her.

“It's so much easier when you just let yourself go.” Omar seductively growled fondling her breasts, a matching blossom blooming from her right nipple. Her breasts growing swollen as Sandra's submission fed the perverse ideas her corruption had spawned within her.

“Embrace it, and you’ll be so much better,” Andrew added from behind scratching his claws across her increasingly smooth, almost bark-like skin across her back.