Investigate the glint.

I get down on my knees, crawling in among the rosebushes to try to pick up the gleaming object. I only realise my mistake when the bushes start to stir.

Vines leap out of the soil, wrapping around my hands and knees, trapping me in place. I'm stuck on all fours in the centre of the rosebed, and more vines are stirring. Worst of all, their thorns are sharp, not enough to pierce my skin but enough to prickle and punish. I try to pull away but they're too strong for me to fight, and I can't reach my dagger. The vines coil towards the hem of my shirt and I realise, too late, what their plans are. They slip up inside my shirt, wrapping around my flat belly and insinuating themselves inside my plain cotton bra to torment my sensitive breasts with their thorns. They slide inside my breeches and my plain cotton knickers, making me squirm and squeal as they tease my thighs, grope my pert posterior and slide in between my legs to draw their dreadful prickly points across my unprotected pussy. Then the thorns flash, and all my clothes explode into fragments. I've been stripped. I'm kneeling naked in the roses with everything on display, knowing that worse is to come.

It was a magical trap, of course. And I walked straight into it, like an absolute novice. I curse myself for my foolishness. Now I'm stuck here for the rest of the night, nude and squirming like a schoolgirl with no idea how much more humiliation awaits me. I hate losing, and I lost this one before I even got into the house.

Now that I'm nude, the vines find it a little easier to wrap me up in shameful bondage. First they harness my breasts, wrapping themselves several times around the bases of my tits and sending out thorny little tendrils to squeeze my nipples in tight prickly botanical clamps. Then they wind around my waist, slide between my labia and draw themselves up into a tight, thorny crotchrope, the pin-sharp points jabbing me in my most embarrassingly sensitive places. An especially sharp one is pressed against my clit, locking me into a state of intensely erotic discomfort that gets worse whenever I try to move. More vines wrap around my legs, my arms, my chest, my neck and even my feet, where I discover that the feeling of thorns against bare soles can be excruciatingly ticklish. Finally they pull my hands and knees out from under me and **** me to lie flat in the dirt, arms and legs splayed, getting filthy. A vine takes the back of my head and rubs my face into the damp soil, getting me all grubby, just to make sure I know my place. The pressure of gravity makes the thorns press even more firmly against my nude body.

I hear a faint sound from behind me. I can't turn my head, but I can feel the vines part my buttocks and I can definitely feel it when the rosebud is **** into my ass, gently but firmly. I open my mouth to cry out and another rosebud is shoved into my mouth, gagging me. It's a big one, bigger than the one in my ass, though that one's not exactly small. A final humiliation. I'm a naked little loser, tied up and dirty, getting fucked in the ass by a plant.

I squirm a little and the vines respond by fucking me some more. I lie still and they lie still. Doesn't look like they're letting me go any time soon. I'm stuck here until someone comes along in the morning to let me go. Or point and laugh at me, more likely.