You have nothing to hide

You look up past the warm member near your chin, past the rippling stomach, beyond the curiously orbs hanging from her shoulders, up into the hard gaze of maple colored eyes and swallow.

"Well, I did not know I was Trespassing, I am from Very, Very, Very far away, and I am a Human." The words come tumbling from your mouth and the woman nods.

"What is your need to be here then?" She asks, her voice losing some of it's edge, which makes her sound pleasantly confused.

"I just landed here, I was in a fruit pod of this tree." You indicate upwards with your chin as your hands are still bound.

The leader furrows her brow, and leans down to you, she runs a finger along your torso, scooping up some of the goop that adheres to your skin. She sniffs it, eyes widening, she looks at you again with mounting surprise.

She chitters something in a series of sharp sentences of her language and you are no longer restrained but rather are being carried aloft. A dozen hands holding you above their heads, one pair doing it's best to cradle your ass.

And with that you are born aloft.

And are flying.

With the sound like a blender killing air, you arv through the sky, their many wings hammering the sky with noise. You are sure these creatures probably never sneak up on anybody.

In short order you see a towering structure breaking out from the dense canopy surrounding the mountainous tree roots.

Twisting upward with an ascending spiral of teardrop shapes is what you assume is The Hive.

It's beautiful in a very hewn architectural way, as timbers from the surrounding trees have been bent, and woven to make massive domed pods that circle the great, central spire.

You ever spy, as you draw closer, leaf shaped landing areas, with teams of bee women, industriously about their work. All shapes and sizes found here and not a single one of them is wearing a slip of clothing.

This is either going to be great or a great way to die.

After landing, the leader of your troop calls out and a small, bright yellow bee woman, with a large brown mane about her neck comes running up. A quick staccato discourse happens between the pair, punctuated by your one raising her finger which had tree sap on it, points at you, and makes a running motion. The smaller woman nods, looks you up and down then shrugs, turning and pointing down a dark hallway that leads into the large structure.

Your most verbal bee returns.

"You, come, we must add your smells to the records and remove the tree honey from your skin." She says over her shoulder as she drags you forward by you hand.

You tense slightly at the last part and she looks back to you.

"We remove it with our tongues, human, it should feel plesant to you."