Plant hell

Finally, a dark druid appeared and cast a spell. At that moment, brambles climbed along the chains at the feet of the sisters of suffering, beginning to progress up their bodies, digging into their anuses, hindered by the dildos, continuing to their pubic area, encircling their breasts until they painfully squeezed them with their thorns, and stopping at the neck, which was itself strangled enough not to kill them but enough to make them gasp and reduce their breathing to a bare minimum.

Few parts of the consenting victims' bodies escaped the thorns.

The brambles tightened, their almost living thorns causing a terrible pain without piercing the tender flesh of the two women. Phoebe felt the tendrils sink deeper, each movement of the plants accentuating the ripping burn in her intimate area. Sybelle, her eyes rolling back, was suffocating under the grip of the thorny stems around her neck, her chest heaving in jerky jerks.

The dildos continued unconcerned, their back and forth movements while the brambles released stinging substances that made the situation unbearable, because tied down, they couldn't relieve the scratching sensation that combined with the whip marks.

The brambles tightened even more, their thorns injecting a burning venom that brought tears to Phoebe's wide eyes. The creeping stems insinuated themselves between their spread thighs, coiling around the metal dildos that continued their relentless thrusts. Each thrust of the machines now drove the thorns deeper into their throbbing flesh.

The injuries were almost nonexistent, and yet they would have preferred that to this situation of pain and helplessness.

The perverted druid declared, amused.

• To relieve the stinging sensation of these itches, only drow sperm can help, and to treat the bites, only orc urine can help. You'll have to be very kind to them.

The orcs present laughed at the prospect of his words, while the two poor victims tried to relieve themselves in an absurd jig that only made the situation worse.

The druid watched, fascinated, as the two girls stirred, as the brambles grew, especially deep inside their genitals and anuses, to the point where the dildo no longer penetrated, hindered by the plant fibers, but instead pressed the mass inside them.

The brambles, now swollen with poisonous sap, throbbed inside their bodies, each tendril searching their entrails like greedy fingers. Phoebe felt a plant-like grip crush her innermost walls, the thorns releasing their venom in slow, burning pulses.

Phoebe and Sybil looked at each other in despair, pleading, ready to do anything to make this torment end. In vain, the druid and the orcs were fascinated by the spectacle they involuntarily offered them.

Phoebe's burning tears streamed down her scarlet-marbled cheeks as the plant tendrils insinuated themselves deeper into her stomach, their devious pulses synchronized with the whiplashes that now lashed their backs in rhythm.

The master signaled to the druid, who nodded with an incantation. The brambles withdrew, even more painfully because where they disappeared, the stinging substances took on their full irritating effect at an infernal level, and the dildo resumed its violent thrusting action as if in a rage it sought ****.

The dildos resumed their work with increased frenzy, their icy metal scraping the inflamed walls of the two women while the last tendrils retracted in a final ****. Phoebe's lips curled in a silent scream when a particularly vicious thorn scraped against her cervix before disappearing, leaving behind a trail of stinging fire.

With another gesture, the master signaled, the dildos were withdrawn, the whips stopped, and she was untied. They wanted to take refuge against each other but they only spread and increased the stinging substances, they had to push each other away to avoid contact which became painful.