Escape towards the exit

As much as you don't want to brave those giant, fleshy flowers, you would much rather take your chances with them than with whatever is coming. You turn and dash away from the tunnel of vines and the rustling sounds. Thorns hidden in the undergrowth tear at your blouse, mark your arms, and open more stinging scratches on your calves and thighs. It's as if tiny barbed whips are lashing your arms and legs.

At last, you fight your way out of the brambles and reach the violet flowers and your heart pounds fearfully in your chest. Why are you so worried? You're a veteran monster huntress and these are just weird flowers. The huge flowers yawn open on either side of the overgrown path. Each is almost five feet across, with leathery petals that seems to move slightly. They are giving off an intense, cloying perfume that makes your head swim. There are perhaps a hundred in all and they lean so far into your path that you have to weave cautiously back and forth between them. A few of the flowers, though not many, are closed and bulge with something inside. Maybe these are seed pods and not flowers at all.

Each time your arm or leg brushes against one of the huge flowers they shiver and the stamens seem to flex, releasing a dusting of pollen onto your body. Wherever the pollen lands you flesh - arms, fingers, thighs, even your breasts - becomes numb and then warm. It begins to feel good and you find yourself swaying as you walk, brushing against the flowers almost wantonly, moaning as your body is dusted more and more by the pollen. Dimly, you are aware of the dangerous effect the pollen is having on you - it's turning you on - and you try to focus on the exit and keep moving forward.

Struggling to stay on your feet, your arm brushes against one of the closed flowers. Its stem flexes and the petals part with a gush of purple liquid spilling out. The lower petals bend beneath weight and the flower dips forward into your path, releasing as it does a gust of powerful perfume and a gooey object that thumps onto the ground at your feet.

You look down in horror as you realize you are looking at Candy Meadows, a TA for Paisley, nude but for a few threads of cloth, curled into a fetal position. She is coated from head to toe in purple-tinged slime and, horribly, her face is frozen in a smile, her tongue hanging out of her mouth and drool pouring down her chin. She is alive, but her blank stare tells you that she is a goner. In some sort of pleasure coma.

It's a horrible discovery, and yet...you look down and see that your left arm is covered in golden pollen. You fell very dizzy. Liquid seeps through your panties and down your thighs and you begin to sway more and more. The flower next to your arm is touching you with its tendril-like stamen, rubbing its soft anthers against your skin. The stamen are growing longer and longer and begining to wrap around your arm. Yes...you think. That would be nice.

"Yes," a voice whispers in your head. "Yes, you deserve this pleasure."

It feels so good. Like a warm massage. You remember something about escaping...but...

"Infinite pleasure awaits," the voice whispers once again and you realize it is the voice of the flower now yawning around you and wrapping your arm in its pale stamen.