A Pollen Behavior

He started to struggle in his bonds, the fury rising in him. The vines were strong, but it was almost like they hadn't expected him to fight, because they lost their grip on one of his hands almost immediately—before tightening on the rest.

The lips started kissing hungrily on his cock, and he gasped and faltered as the slick nectar dribbled over his glans, supplemented by sloppy kisses. They were so soft...

The kisses were all over him, on his neck, his bare chest, tickling beneath his arms, as he lunged for his satchel. The vines followed his arm. The bliss was rising in him, but adrenaline lent him willpower. He reached inside and grabbed his dagger.

With a snarl, he whipped his hand out and slashed downwards, slashing at the vines rising up around his legs. Regret surged in him as the kisses on his cock stopped, and he couldn't help but whimper even as he desperately sliced at the rest, pulling himself upright.

But in his haste, he failed to notice a single vine with a particularly large flower approaching him. The single vine climbed, up, snaking around his torso, slithered around his throat, and finally came into his vision.

And he could swear it moaned as it kissed him right on the lips. Nectar dripped from its open mouth.

Alrek sank to his knees. The lips moaned again, louder, kissing him more fully. More lips started to rise around his head, caging his head, moaning into his ears. A strange slick stamen—almost like a tongue—slipped from the flower and into his mouth, and sweetness filled his mind. He moaned weakly. The knife loosened in his grip. His cock throbbed as the vines crept closer—

"A-Alrek," gasped a weak voice. He looked over and saw Larya, her eyes flashing between pink light and an earthy green. She seemed to be warring with herself, but the last vestige of the druidess appeared to win out as she loosed a pouch tied to her belt and feebly tossed it towards him.

It landed at his knees.

"Did you say something, slut?" he heard Illetrys hiss,.

"No!" Larya cried, her eyes returning to their pink glow and a big, vapid smile spreading across her face. "Bimbo serves only M-Miss Trys!"

"Good girl," Illetrys purred, and Alrek heard Larya cry out in bliss as Illetrys reached down and started toying with the sex between thrusts. "What a good, sexy bimbo."

"O-oh, Mistress..."

The pathetic note in Larya's voice helped Alrek focus. He stared down at the bag. Numbly, he realized he was getting tied up again. The lips were taking their sweet time approaching his cock, no doubt 'planning' to truss him and kiss him into total helplessness before giving him his orgasm.

He wanted so badly to cum. He wanted so badly to be a good pet.

But he managed to reach down with his less-bound hand and grab the pouch. The second his fingers locked around it, vines snaked around his arm and pulled it back up, incidentally bringing his hand right by his mouth.

The lips kissed his face again and again, and he could feel his mind returning to its submissive haze... felt so good, felt so right... The moans in his ear reminded him of how grateful Mistress would be to her good, good obedient boy...

As Larya let out another cry and began begging for permission to cum, begging forgiveness for cumming immediately after, Alrek, with trembling fingers, fumbled with the pouch.

The vines started to tighten around his arm, but they took their time. They had won. Here he was, on his knees, naked and bound, being kissed and brainwashed back into submission.

As the lips passionately kissed him, he managed to slip one of the sugardeath berries into his mouth. Chewed.

A surprisingly bitter taste exploded into his mouth—not unlike a grapefruit, actually, though there was sweetness, too. He swallowed it without thinking.

At first, he didn't feel any different. A strange sort of joyful despair filled him as he collapsed at last into the vines, submitting fully to their power. The nectar was taking its toll. The moans in his ears were taking their toll. He could barely even hear Larya anymore. His mind was full of moans. Little tongue-like stamens were emerging from the lips in his ears, licking, drowning out all external noises—

And suddenly, it just... no longer mattered. Alrek blinked.

Then he moaned, as the first lips touched his cock. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. That felt so good. He started to struggle frantically, ripping away the vines as they kissed him.

He struggled so fiercely, he fell prone, but quick as a flash he was slashing wildly with the knife. All the while, the vines continued to encircle his cock, planting slow, soft kisses all over its length. They were so tender... fuck, he was so close...

Bitterness swelled in him as he turned and lunged for the vines' source—a strange rosebush-like shrub. Gasping and moaning as the lips continued to pleasure him, he grabbed at the plant's base. The lips were covering him, blanketing him in soft, gooey pleasure, and oh, fuck, he was about to—

With a desperate cry, he sliced the dagger through the base of the plant.

The flowers went limp.

Alrek lay there for a moment, panting. He was practically mummified in the green tendrils. His mind reeled as the orgasm died back down, disappointing, wasted. Only a little bit of precum oozed out.

Then he climbed to his feet, pulling the vines off of his naked body, and turned to the gate. Anger swelled in him as he saw Illetrys repeatedly thrusting into Larya.

He took off at a run, raising the knife over his head with a wordless yell.

Larya looked up in shock. So did Illetrys, who was in the midst of squeezing her own nipples. She stared at him and cried, "Uh—drop!"

The knife slipped from his fingers.

But then he was tackling her to the ground, and Illetrys was shrieking with surprise. He reached back, grabbing at the vines covering Larya's head. He felt them crawling over his own arms with lightning speed, but he didn't care. They couldn't control him.

With all his might, he yanked them out by the roots.

Larya let out a hoarse cry and went limp as the... what had she called them? Possession vines?... immediately stopped climbing around them both.

And then he and Illetrys were tumbling off the path, and he had a moment to regret his recklessness. They rolled through vines and crashed over a gigantic sunflower-like stalk, causing pollen to fly everywhere.

Trys was fighting—not like a temptress, but like a seasoned criminal, clawing and kicking and screaming in fury. Alrek wasn't actually especially strong, but even he could tell that Trys was badly out of shape. She was a cutthroat who'd gotten too used to having others do the fighting for her.

In their tussling, the pair finally crashed into a large yellow flower—not unlike a very short tulip. The stem snapped beneath them, and they rolled inside.

Alrek managed to pin her to the ground as pollen rose around them in vast clouds. They were both panting. She continued to struggle, trying to kick him, clawing at his eyes. "F-fuck you!" she cried. "Obey! You little—wring your neck—squeeze you dry like a wet rag—"

She was breathing heavily, as was Alrek. He couldn't help but notice that the pollen in the air had a very strong smell. It reminded him a little of... pumpkins. A meaty, squashy scent.

"Break you open—" Trys gasped, eyelids fluttering. "Cut you—mm..." She twitched a little.

Her struggles began to slow. She frowned, tugging weakly at his hands. "What... what's the..."

"You're finished, Trys," Alrek snarled. "Gimme one reason not to wring your neck like the rat you are."

Illetrys stared deep into his eyes. Her cheeks were flushed. Her lower lip quivered.

Alrek suddenly realized she positively reeked of arousal. The rosy scent was everywhere now. She was still panting, but it had a different cadence, higher, more moan-like. And her struggles... they had changed, too.

She wriggled beneath him, biting her lip. "What's... um, w-what's the..."

"What?" Alrek snapped. "What is it?"

Trys stared up at him with wide eyes.

Her lips parted in a moan.

Alrek's heart started to pound. He breathed deeply. Fuck, she was so turned on by all this. It almost made him want to... want to...

Trys's words came out as little whimpers. "W-what... flower... is... this?"

"Uh... big yellow flower." Alrek blinked.

"Oh." Illetrys looked worried, but she also looked very happy. She wriggled again, and he realized she was still struggling and tightened his grip.

But she felt... good beneath him. Her nipples pressed into his chest, those wonderful breasts so soft and smooth against his skin. And she smelled so... good. "Buttercunt blossom," she said, giving a half-giggle. "Makes... mm... makes me all nice an'... no, dammit..." Her eyes gleamed, and she licked her lips. "... eager."

Alrek swallowed. Her lip was quivering, and she kept glancing down towards his cock. She licked her lips again, and her mouth didn't totally close. "And you ate some sugardeath, didn't you?" She looked up at Alrek, biting her lip seductively. "Makes you resistant to mind control. But..." She kept struggling, and Alrek realized she was trying to move down. Trying to... go down.

"Stop," he hissed, shuddering at that look of need in her eyes.

But she only giggled. "That's cause it makes you so horny your brain can't be controlled, doesn't it?"

Alrek's cock throbbed with every word she spoke. He stared down at her, breath catching in her throat.

"Alrek," she whimpered, her tone husky and yet submissive, "I... I need it. I need it!" She licked her lips again. Her lips were glistening. Big, pouty, cocksucking lips...

Alrek took a deep breath. He gripped her tighter. Tried to ignore the rising lust, tried to ignore how sexy she was... how desperate...

"I'm melting for you, Alrek," she moaned, wriggling faster, causing his cock to pulsate. "Like butter. Wanna make you feel good. So good!"

"Nn..." He shook his head, struggling to hold in his moans. But a growing desire was taking hold in him. She was so willing. So ready to be used.

Trys stared up at him with wide eyes and pouted. "Please let..." There was a clear internal struggle. She shook herself and continued, "Please let toy make... make Master feel good!"

Alrek's grip was loosening, and she was starting to squirm free. In desperation, he got to his feet, yanking her arms with him. She squeaked but did not resist. She stared up at him in...

...adoration.

His heart was pounding. His cock was twitching. He felt so horny, so... fuck, he was drunk on lust.

The whole world seemed blurry. All the world save those plump, perfect, painted-blue lips.

"P-please, Master," Trys whined, bouncing around in his grip, breasts jiggling, mouth hanging open, "Use me! Let me be used! Toy wants to—to—mmf!"

He didn't even think as he shoved her towards his cock. He couldn't think at all. And as she came towards it, her lips formed an 'O' shape, eyes shining with equal parts gratitude and weakened indignation.

She moaned as soon as the cock slipped between her lips. Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at him with an expression of smoldering love..

And she waited. The head of cock was inside her warm, wet mouth, her plump lips locked around the shaft, and she waited.

She giggled.

He grabbed her head. She nodded meekly.

And he began to fuck her face. "You—" He gasped with sudden pleasure as she started working her mouth on his length. "You murderous—nasty little bitch—"

"Mmm!" she agreed, lathering her tongue over his member over and over. He thrust into her all the way, and she started to twitch and moan. To her credit, she took it all. She sucked and slurped like a professional—which she once had been—and nothing had ever felt so sweet. So perfect.

A part of him reveled in seeing her, his enemy, who had taken him and Larya time and time again over the last few years in her quest for revenge, now on her hands and knees in front of him. Broken. Submissive. She was cumming from this. He watched as she wrenched off the strap-on and started stroking herself, whimpering pathetically as her lips worked up and down his shaft.

He stopped thrusting as she tenderly grasped his cock and started bobbing her head on it, working her soft, wet lips with perfect precision. She seemed to be overwhelmed with her need. She lapped over it like the most delicious candy, again and again. It felt amazing.

Alrek felt the burning need inside him turn into an inferno. He allowed her to suck and lick him at her leisure, but every now and then he couldn't help but thrust. He loved the way she gagged slightly, then took it and moaned in thanks. She took it all.

It was not long before he came. She moaned louder as he shuddered, thick, ropy strings of cum shooting straight into her mouth. He heard her momentarily choke, then gulp, a blissful sigh escaping her. She slurped it all down with a smile and a giggle.

"Thank you, Master," she whispered, pulling her lips off it for a moment to lick over his cock, lapping up every last drop of cum. "Thank you, your good girl thanks you, thank you—"

"Good girl," he growled, loving the way she shivered at the words. "G-good girl. Very good girl."

"Am I your slut?" she whined. She slowly licked up and down his shaft, keeping her eyes on him all the while. "Am I... Master's good slut?"

"Oh, f-fuck," he gasped, as she lathered her spit over his throbbing cock. "You're—you're a good, horny slut!"

The lust was blinding him. He'd never—never spoken like this, never done anything like this. But in the throes of afterglow, it felt so right. And he was going to cum again. And soon. Trys was getting the look in her eyes that suggested she would soon be begging for it.

He didn't even notice Larya getting up, eyes still glimmering with faint pink light.

~~~~

"i am a good slut," larya whispered, rising slowly to her feet. "good sluts... pleasure Mistress..." She stumbled over. She barely even saw Alrek. All she could see was her beautiful, perfect Mistress. Mistress was feeling good, and that was wonderful. It made Larya feel wonderful.

But Larya needed to give her more.

Larya picked up the strap-on.

~~~~

Trys was so, so happy that she'd lost control of this.

"Can I?" she begged, getting on her hands and knees and caressing her Master's ass, his thighs, his wonderful cock. "Can I, please? Can toy please suck it again?"

Master stared down at her with a look of pure need. "Do it," he commanded, leaning back against the fence. "B-be a good girl."

"Ooh, yes, Master!" the elf hypnotist breathed, taking the base of his cock between her fingers and slowly sliding her lips down the head. She moaned along with her Master, overjoyed that she was making him feel so, so good.

She was a good slut. Good sluts obeyed. And even if there was a tiny, angry voice inside her urging her to bite—

She paused. Why did she have that voice? The effects of the wonderful pumpkin smell were slowly dropping. Why was she...

Her eyelids fluttered. She kept sucking, knowing that Master would grab her and force her otherwise (and she would love it, she loved it when Master made her do things, obedience was pleasure), but something felt... strange. Surely she loved to suck. She definitely did. And she knew how hot she thought Master was. So what was off about it?

She frowned as she repeatedly ran her tongue over Master's glans. She pulled back, sighing as bliss coursed through her, staring at the spit-slick member. She delicately lapped at it, teasing her Master just a little, licking like a kitten. She alternated with slow strokes with her hands and long, tender kisses. From Master's groans, she knew she was making him feel good.

But wasn't there something else she wanted? She wanted to feel good, too, of course. But she did! It felt so good to make Master feel good. Trys giggled. She was a very good toy.

Toy. Hadn't she wanted him to be a toy? That felt silly, but... it also felt right. She slurped down a bit of precum, thinking very hard. It was not easy. Sluts like her weren't supposed to think.

But was she a slut? Was she really such a good girl? She felt like she remembered something more. Her eyebrows furrowed as she felt soft, smooth hands caress her shoulders. Surely she wasn't a slut. Not a dumb one, at least. Not a submissive one. She was a—a—

A long, hard buzzing rod slid right into her tight, wet pussy. The hands gripped her shoulders even tighter, and she felt hot breath on her neck, heard small, feminine gasps of exertion.

Illetrys screamed as the orgasm wrenched through her, struggling with all her might to continue suckling as the gorgeous druidess started ramming in and out of her. She ran her tongue and lips along the cock's length over and over, whimpering, screaming, praising every god that such a needy, whimpering whore was getting not one, but two of her holes filled at once.

She was a good girl!

~~~~

Alrek barely even noticed as Trys started cumming, and he barely thought about Larya's arrival. He wasn't able to think about anything except his own pleasure, and Trys was the tool for his pleasure.

She sucked him off again and again, but he just kept cumming. She seemed to have an endless thirst for him. He couldn't get enough of her. The way her tongue ran over his head... the way she moaned and whimpered whenever he came...

Once, Illetrys had been arrogant, cruel, powerful. She had reduced him to a begging plaything time and time again. Now she begged for his cock, begged just to please him.

They continued like this for what felt like hours, Larya ramming into Trys as Trys sucked Alrek off. Her tongue was heavenly on his cock. She seemed to truly love giving him head, and right now, that was all that mattered.

At last, though, he noticed her starting to pant, and realized her strength was beginning to fail her. Feeling a strange fondness, he caressed her cheek. "Good girl," he murmured, and she whimpered and came, her lower lip trembling. "Good, slutty girl."

~~~~

The strap-on finally slipped out of Trys's cunt as Master picked her up and settled her back inside the buttercunt blossom. Still foggy, it took her a moment to recognize the implications of this. She struggled weakly as she realized where he was putting her, but only slightly. She was breathing heavily, and the pollen blew around her, making her eyelids flutter. Making her a good girl again.

Larya slipped in after Trys and lay down against her side, and Trys smiled at the warm presence. She felt Larya's lips lock around her nipple and start to suckle.

"Oh, please," Trys whimpered, "please, please, please—" She didn't even know what she was begging for. She wanted it all.

Larya rose up, beaming, and kissed her. Trys melted into the kiss, too tired to do anything but accept Larya's roaming tongue. When Larya broke away to return to worshiping Trys's breasts, she winked and stuck a finger in Trys's mouth to keep her quiet.

Trys just docilely suckled the finger. She could do that, at least. It felt good to suck.

Larya's approach was so docile and motherly, Trys was not prepared for Alrek to enter her. She squealed into Larya's finger as his girth suddenly slid into her, hard and fast.

Larya returned to silence those squeals with a kiss.

As Alrek pulled up and rammed into her again, causing Trys's dripping cunt to contract around his cock, desperate even now to milk her Master to ecstasy, she felt a mischievous finger strumming her clit.

Larya giggled, her eyes shining in joy as her finger stroked in time with Master's glorious thrusts.

And Trys, a prone, squealing elf who by now could barely remember her own name, let along what that name had once meant, could only lie back and accept it all.