Try to stay still

Velvet Vixen squeezes her eyes shut.

Okay, she thinks. Just stay still. Don’t move. Maybe if I stop reacting, it’ll get bored. Maybe it wants a fight. Maybe—

A vine curls around her waist, tightening just enough to send a pulse of heat through the slick glaze coating her costume. Another slithers up from beneath, winding slowly around her inner thigh, gliding with an unnatural patience.

Still, she doesn’t move.

Then—

drip.

Something viscous oozes from one of the blossoms above. It lands with a soft, wet splat against her collarbone, where the top of her costume is slightly loosened. The liquid is warm, almost electric as it spreads across her bare skin.

Her jaw clenches.

Don’t move. Don’t move don’t—

Another drop hits her cheek. Then her thigh.

Then one hits just beneath her ribs and trickles slowly down, seeping through her costume like it’s searching for skin.

And that’s when it starts.

Tingling.

First faint. Then sharp. A fiery, buzzing warmth wherever the plant’s substance touches her bare flesh—like being kissed by champagne and static. Her toes curl. Her thighs twitch.

She jerks once. Involuntary.

That’s all it takes.

The plant responds.

Its vines tighten, the ones around her waist and legs now clearly anchoring her to the cross. Two more slide in along her sides, and another twists up to her shoulder, petal unfurling just inches from her flushed face.

“Nngh—stop—!”

Velvet Vixen thrashes in earnest now—but it’s far too late. The plant knows she’s awake. Knows she’s alive.

Knows she’s ripe.