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Dryad's Power

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by anonymous

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The dryad's name was not one that could be pronounced with the tongue of either a furry or a human, whether those that presented with an intelligent mind in the world walked on two legs or four or something else entirely. The intelligence that was inherent in the world flowed through in the magic of it but the dryad was still in the form of a large bud, pulsing with life within, tentacles helping them to move, wriggling and squirming, sucking up a little of the magic from the soil of the forest floor. Yet they had to move, had to grow, unable to remain where they were without reaching their true passion and power.

"Nerin", however, was the name that she would give those she brought into her fold, growing with strength as, slowly but surely, she took on a female persona, the mother of so many. There was no seed contained with her, not yet, with which to impregnate and develop even more of a harem, a brood from which she could draw more and more magical strength, but that would come in time as she worked her way upright, the bud's green petals falling out, drifting away, standing tall as a humanoid, though she was not a woman that many would have recognised.

Nerin smiled, though her bark-like mouth did not move much, her eyes hollow but for the coiled shells of brightly coloured snails inside. Sight would return to her soon, the dim glow of it already lingering, rising, pumping up softly as her strength called her. Still, she was slow, so very slow, her fingers long and questing, the vines that had supported her in her bud form twisting around her body, a swathe falling down her back and bursting from the tips of her fingers. As she took step after step, the moss fading as she left the forest, looking out over fenced in fields, barn and farmyard buildings, domestic life continuing on, her strength grew. Her dull, bark skin glistened with moisture, dripping in shades of crimson and black, trailing down the lines of her body, her face flatter than most but more shapely around the line of the jaw and lips.

In time, her colours would be more defined, the bells chiming from the nearby town. Her body would be stronger and time would come for her, seeing Nerin rise taller and stronger than even an age-old oak.

Lips cracking, flexing with new magic in lieu of muscles, she smiled. It was just what she needed.

Not just a plant... Not just a dryad... But a demon. A demon of lust. And it was time for her to make her mark.

Alas... She knew what her true form was even as it slipped from her, though she managed, just about, to make it to one of the outbuildings, bark flaking off her body as she hissed and hunkered down. There was not enough strength in her to hold a humanoid form before taking power from others around her and she had to lust, had to feed, groaning for her body, the form that she should have taken all along. She'd grown, from a tiny bud and root, on the farm for so long, knowing that there were creatures near to take strength from, but she needed them closer, which was why she had had to linger and wait for years upon years to feed on the ground, the earth, the nutrients deep down inside. Only then had she been able to move into place, sinking her roots down and down, letting them grow, her body forming, stiffening: a black tree bursting through the roof with rapidly spreading purple leaves.

Nerin shuddered, leaves bristling with withheld emotion that should never have been true for a dryad. To feed, to grow, to take on power... Oh, how she needed it, though there was no hiding her presence there any longer. They would know, they would see her - she knew of the bovine couple that lived and worked on the farm, possibly owning it. It was inconsequential to her, orgasmic need rising within her, though it was not something she could achieve on her own.

She did not have the strength. The creatures there, intelligent and working with the farmers of their own free will, would do for a start.

Nerin cast out her senses, feeling the tremors in the ground, how the horses and the sheep grazed not far from one another, a goat bucking and bouncing off a bale of straw that had been left to waste.

No... No, they would not do. She groaned, twisting with need, her guts vibrating with plant-matter, yet created in such a way that she still needed it so desperately, her vines twisting and writhing, a true dryad's tentacles.

Ah... There was something near.

A cow.

That was a start.

Waving her branches, her bark and leaves exuded a scent that no creature could have resisted, for it was intrinsically altered to their makeup, what would call them in. Whether it was rooted in the sexual nature of pheromones or what merely appealed to the animal and what they needed to sustain themselves, she could call them in.

Some of the ferals will be best to begin with...

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The words came awkwardly. Thoughts had not been needed in a spoken type of language and it was still foreign to her as the brown and white splashed cow moseyed on closer. Her dark eyes brimmed with intelligence and she snorted and whuffled wetly, ears twitching. The tree had not been there before, she was sure of it, splinters of boards cast out around, though they would not be there for long. Yet there was something that lured her in, kept her cloven hooves moving one after the other, thinking that there was nothing there to worry her. For nothing that smelled so sweet, like the purest of sweet feeds, could be all that dangerous, surely...

On the farm, she was safe.

But she was not.

The dryad's vines curled wantonly around her, teasing and caressing, though it was her over-filled udders, heavy and waiting for the morning milking as dawn touched the sky, that Nerin focused on first and foremost. She did not need to coerce her as the cow squirmed in pleasure, wriggling and pressing against her, even the slightest touch of the dryad's vines infusing her with pleasure like nothing ever before.

"Ohhh - mooooo!"

She resorted to carnal cries as her body overflowed with passion, flowing through, hips rocking back even as something thick pushed under and around the base of her tail. The cow flagged it instinctively, though it was better used as a fly-swatter, the tip rough with coarser hairs. It felt too good as she was drained, her skin itching and shivering but tingling through with pleasure unlike anything that she had ever felt before. It was all too much, so very much, her head reeling, lips parting too even though she usually breathed through her fleshy, moist nostrils.

"Goooood."

The dryad rumbled, though the words did not come from lips but more a sense of being. Nerin did not even know if the cow could hear her but she was welcoming and willing, letting the vines push around her, sucking onto her teats and flexing around them. It had to milk her dry, had to take every drop from her, though it was a process in itself that would tease ecstasy forth from her, the cow leaning against the strange tree and leaning into it, her lips parted. Oh, it may not have been natural at all for her to pant through such wet lips but her nostrils did not seem to gape enough for the air she needed in her lungs, trying to roll her hind end, though her body did not quite flex that way.

She was glorious in herself, just as she was, but the demon dryad had more in store for her. The hormones that the dryad infused her body with, learning from the genetic construction of her body first of all, changed her, made her produce more and more milk, her udders grossly swollen and full. And yet there was no pain in any of it for her, not even as the vines twisted around her legs, keeping them braced and spread, though that part of the impregnation, later, would come in time.

No... No, Nerin did not have the strength for that, not yet, pumping more and more milk from her as vines dropped from the tree, bursting from the bark and appearing from the centre of the trunk. There was only one willing victim to milk so far, however, despite needing her, changing her, the cows' hide rippling as the demon dryad went to work deep inside her.

The milk flowed forth as the cow twisted and tried to kick up her heels, mind overwhelmed with pleasure. Her udders, or rather the teats, felt thicker and heavier in the grasp of the vines but that did not make sense - none of it made sense. All she could do was pant, so close to the dryad, becoming something more powerful than she could have been merely as a normal cow. Her milk flowed sweetly, so very sweetly, yet the dryad wanted more, pumping it from her, her udders rippling with the teasing force that flowed forth, nothing else able to ever come close as she lapped her lips, unable to contain the ecstasy of being milked.

The more milk that was taken from the cow, the more what made her bovine was leeched away. She did not need to look like a cow as everything inside her, from her blood to her fat and even her muscle too, was changed, converted into what better suited the plant. And all that the dryad needed was milk, only milk from her, craving the creamy sweetness of it. It would fuel her, feed her, lend more power to her while she grew, sustaining herself, eventually, only with what she held within herself.

Tiny flowers bloomed on the dryad's branches, flowering and spreading, though they were merely the prelude for the fruit to come. Huge and heavy, violet peach-like fruits hung there, dangling down under their own weight, and a stray vine lovingly plucked a fruit, holding it to the cow's lips.

"Eat."

The word came forth like the ripple of wind through leaves, rustling deep in a forest of deciduous trees in the heat of summer. Reliving and softening, the cow whined and grunted as need coursed through her, her body feeling stranger and stranger, no longer solid as she knew it but parts of it softer and lighter, almost udder-like. The dryad had left enough of her whole to keep her alive, of course, but she bit deeply of the fruit anyway as if it was her escape to another life and world, sweet juices running down her chin as she chomped down.

The changes came quickly, blistering and bulging inside, her back end bigger, stronger, more heavily muscled. She splashed through with shades of red and black and grey, though she was not as beautiful as the dryad would be, in her true form, her front hooves breaking into fingers, a strange sort of quadruped hybrid between an anthro and a feral in how they knew of them in their world. Her body smoothed out, hair falling away, leaving only skin behind, though it could well have looked like hair with how the patterns undulated, like a kind of bark. It gave the appearance of texture where her shoulders grew larger, her forelegs shifting, bending and cracking so that she became more like an anthro on all fours.

The biggest transformation, however, was in her udders, how they swelled to be larger than her back end entirely, bulging and growing. Milked within an inch of her life, they were full, so very full, milk drawn from her with pump after pump of the vines, taking it all as quickly as her monstrous body could produce it. They were too big, huge, monstrous and bulbous, the dryad cradling her close in her vines, letting the teats slip out, twisting into tentacles of their own.

"Mooooo!"

"Yes!"

The teat-tentacles wriggled, trying to find others to latch onto, though all they grasped was the dryad and her tentacles, twisting into her vines while Nerin milked her more and more. There seemed to be a never-ending supply of milk to come from her heaving udders, her hide mottled with colour, dark shades of red and grey and more slashing through where she should have been a creature of soft and beauty. Anything green and light was gone as her formerly pink udders splashed through with grey, denoting her as a demon that sought all that the dryad sold her on, eyes blazing with fierce hunger and need.

"Mmm... More..."

Nerin could always provide more.

There was more and more to feed on as the dryad writhed in pleasure, more and more fruit shuddering to life on the tree, boughs bending where they were over laden. Yes, oh, yes, she was the best first victim she could have possibly come across but there were other farm animals coming for a closer look, smelling their friend but cautious of something strange in their midst. She was a monster and yet still one of them even if they did not recognise her, reeling and grunting, the other cows milling about in confusion. Yet they wanted that sweet aroma for themselves too, eyeing up the writhing teat-tentacles of the cow trapped in the dryad's strong embrace with a roll of their eyes, showing the whites.

"Slowly... But more for you, key one. The first one taken is always the sweetest to deflower..."

Nerin grinned inwardly, power throbbing through her, the cow's pleasure becoming her own, even in the delirious delight of milking lust. Still, she had one more fruit to deliver to the cow, rewarding her for her service, the delight that she could take and share with her, Nerin tenderly tickling her lips to get her to part them. Her udders bulged grossly, oddly sexy and monstrous at the same time, yet her body would be one that would end up desired by all, craved by everyone, their passion and desire unparalleled in the most unexpected of ways. Her black and red hide rippled with desire as she mooed and chomped on the fruit greedily, slivers of flesh and skin slithering down her chin, juices pouring forth. She could not eat cleanly or tidily, not even then, but she could lust for it, her udders jiggling, teats scraping on the ground and tickling her with sensation.

She needed to be bred... But the plant did not have the seed as yet with which she could relieve her need. There were others but they would not do, with no magical blood in their bodies, though she would need soldiers too, those to act as her vessels to go out into the world. Her roots, alas, were sunk deep and she could not take flight as many, striking out across the land for new experiences.

Thus... She would have her charges bring them to her as and when she lusted for them.

A horse. She had to have him, a proud stallion tossing his head, resplendent in a black coat of hair. He had no udders to milk, not like the cow who was released from her vines to wander off into the midst of her brethren, the others milling around in confusion, though it was hard for them to be horrified with such a sweet scent in the air. The stallion was just as confused, snorting and pawing at the ground, eyeing up the plant with a roll of his eyes, though he was not such a creature as to fall prey to feral instinct and base needs. No, he was there for the breeding program of the mares, the one that seeded them full every breeding season, even if Nerin had other plans for him.

The aroma of a "mare" lured him in and the dryad curled her vines around him, squeezing and tickling. It was almost a shame that he had no milk to give her and his lust was contained in a heavy sack, though it was so sensitive, even to the gentlest of touches, that she could not resist it. The stallion twitched as she slid a vine, flexible and supple, down over his cock, seeking to milk his seed from him, to turn him to one of her charges, broken and lustful forevermore.

A beast of burden? Hm, it would be a start for him...

It was the females, of course, that were her main focus, but she needed more, yes - an army to serve her, twisting her vines around him, milking him of his seed. All it took was one suctioning around his shaft to start drawing it straight from him, sap flowing into his body, turning his body to her seductive wiles. The stallion was hardly lacking in pleasure for all of it, however, bucking and twisting in abject pleasure, but she had to make him stronger, beefing him up with muscle, a steed that could even be ridden when she became a dryad. Her roots would not be in contact with the ground but it would be something, better, at least, something to carry her forth as she conquered the land.

He shuddered, fluids milked, drained, his nuts huge, swollen as she turned him into a true beast of burden, a breeding stud who knew nothing more than mindless pleasure. Of course, there would be more than that as he settled into his new form, legs bark-like and twisted through with green slashes, his hide rippling with leaf-like patterns, but his cock would forever remain hard for when Nerin needed to milk him of his essence again.

Fed a fruit, his form was locked onto him and she turned her attention to another creature - a donkey. She may have looked horse-like in appearance but she was big and thick with a fluffy coat - a mammoth donkey. Nickering up with her head held high, she barely held back a bray as those vines wrapped around her, though she cheekily squirmed and snorted, huffing and puffing to get at the fruits that hung there, only just out of her reach. There was little else that a creature like her could lust for so fervently in a moment like that but the dryad found her lust for life and such vitality all the more exotic for how it presented itself, the donkey nuzzling and twisting, leaning heavily into the embrace of the vines.

"I'm glad to have you here, little one..."

Her voice came with a ragged hiss but there was tenderness in it too, the donkey's nostrils fluttering with breath as a vine even snaked into her mouth, down her throat, taking over her breathing for her. The donkey exhaled softly, the vine easing down her throat and windpipe, more than one, though she was lost as her udders were milked. The little donkey who had been suckling at her donkey teats not so long ago was in the process of being weaned, but any milk that was "drying up" at the end of her lactation was swiftly replenished as her body made more, the plant infusing her with such lust and magic that there was little else that she could think of.

The donkey's body bucked and twisted in a lustful bray around the demon dryad's vein, her body rippling, changing, though it was not as simply monstrous as those that had come before her. No, her udders grew huge, complete with two fat teats, smooth and calling attention, her fur smoothing down, sleek and sensual. Although she was a monster, a hybrid and an abomination, of sorts, to any kind of reality that may have known her, the vines twisted and held her fast, letting her eyelashes grow longer, her facial features grow more expressive, her ears sultry and sleek.

"Yesss... My little one..."

The dryad coddled her even as she drained milk from her. Most of the donkey was milk - what was not needed to survive, of course, but making her udders larger and larger at the very least allowed her to hold more inside, all for when the dryad required it of her. Her forelegs twisted so that they could function as arms too, though the dryad left her with her udders, not giving her a pair of breasts too. A pair of demonic horns twisted her further, turning her from donkey to demon spawn, her hide smooth and hair flattened down, marked with demonic runes and dryad patterns - fate that only Nerin would be able to read. No one else needed to know what she was there for, what the demon dryad wanted to mark, all the life and lust held there, even if it could not be called love.

"Ohhhh..." The donkey moaned, not wanting to restrain herself, head thrown back, her lips large and puckered, prettily parted. "Please... Yes... More... I am your servant!"

That was all Nerin needed to hear. As before, the demonizing process was finalised, securing their form forever, with a taste of the fruit, the donkey slavering it down, using her hoof-like hands to push more and more greedily into her mouth she was insatiable and craved more, always more, though her body was not yet down.

However, the dryad did not need to draw in more and more of the farm creatures - and it wasn't just because the bovine couple were stirring up at the farmhouse, perhaps wondering what all the bellowing and mooing was about. The farm animals could be noisy! No, the first cow that she had transformed into a lustful demon came back, sauntering, flicking her ropey tail, showing off her sexy, overfilled udders. The dryad smirked inwardly, still taking on the form of a tree as she sucked down their sexual lust, their need and power, moaning through the rustle of leaves.

She would have her, take her, the cow huge with a bulbous udder and teats squirming out like tentacles, even then searching for other animals that they could lock onto. But the dryad was there for her, locking her own tentacles onto hers and drawing her in close, milking her of the swirling, slopping contents, as much as they had already swelled and pushed out against the skin of the udder, trying to break free.

"Yes..."

The cow bellowed and mooed and took another fruit from the dryad's tree as her reward, though the milking, rippling pulse of the vines around her teat-tentacles was hard to resist. Every drop of milk was taken from her and, already, her udders worked on more, pulsing and teasing, rippling and coaxing every last drop of creamy milk from her. Richly infused with every last one of the nutrients that the dryad needed to sustain herself, it was like sipping the nectar of the gods, their bodies coming together even in their different forms for their mutual pleasure.

In a way...it was a sort of symbiotic relationship too.

The tree grew, branches bristling, taller than the barn that was not that far off. But what the dryad had anticipated was seeing the bovines rush from the house, scrambling into clothes that would not linger for long, charging at full pelt to find out what was happening to those under their loving charge and care.

"Get away from them!"

"Dig it up!"

And yet even they could see, the bovine couple dressed simply and slowing to a breathless trot, black and white "splotted" as if their ancestors were dairy cows. The husband, Ty, slowed and shook his head, whistling at the fruits hanging there, for even he knew what was a rare divinity when he saw it. Far from being slow of mind in any way, he tipped his hat, rocking back on his heels, even as his wife, Ashley, charged in, blowing steam and her eyes ablaze.

"You there! Leave my Bessie alone, do you hear? Oh, Bessie, Bessie, darling... What has it done to you?"

The dryad reached out to them, mind brushing theirs. Where Ty's eyes widened only minutely, his wife reeled with a moist gasp.

"Heavens..."

I am here to seek a relationship, to become more than I am, to prosper, she invited them. No one here shall be harmed... But it is merely pleasure that I seek to bring, opening the world up to all that lust may trickle in the fertilisation of this soil.

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Rather than try to tell them what she had planned, she showed them, filtering image after image of a rich and prosperous farm into their minds. Ashley clasped her hands before her chest, her large bosom wobbling, though things would soon change for her. The lands that the dryad showed them were even more glorious than the farm she had imagined for herself, seeing wealth and riches...and lust.

Ashley trembled. Oh, it was tempting, so very tempting, to give in right then and there. It was sudden but she'd felt that there was something coming, a premonition that had filtered through the very ground that she stood on. The cow felt it, felt the changes in the earth, that there was power there, power growing. And she'd wanted it too, hungrily drinking it in, letting the tainted water slip down her throat as she took a morning drink, washing her face, every fibre of her being infiltrated with it.

Maybe that was just why she gave in so quickly, letting the vines reach for her, wrap around her, as if in slow-motion. There was no magical blood in her that the dryad could take but she felt the love of the plant woman in there, the thriving lust. Ashley groaned, fingers grasping her husband's. If there was one thing that could be taken for the new age of the farm, it was a giant leap off into the unknown...

And Ashley had always been one to take big chances. She had to, in her line of work, if she was to push the limits of what her farm could do, twisting magical fruit and produce into something that the masses would go wild for. That was why Willam, their dragon-mage friend, had come by - to see just what assistance he could offer them in their pursuits. They had thought that they would forever be grateful for his help but it had seemed that something even more alluring had come into play there...something that could feed them and all the creatures in their care for the rest of their lives and beyond.

The vines twisted around her, more tentacle-like and thickening as the tree grew, taking on another few feet in height, taller than the barn. The rustle of leaves bristled above her as she laid back, the sap from the vines dissolving her clothes. They would not be needed anymore, her body curvy and luscious, breasts sagging lightly under their weight, though her nipples perked up into the cool of the morning air. Ashley's breasts trembled with breath as heat lanced through her, warming her through from the inside out, a moan on her lips as the dryad's tentacles latched onto her tits.

Yesss...

_ _

Oh, she had not thought it would be so easy to show them what she wanted, that they would all be able to benefit from each other - and yet it had come so naturally that it was as if it was all meant to be. Nerin groaned as she sucked the cow's breasts, though there was no milk naturally held there to take, not as yet. She needed it, needed it all, stronger than she had ever been and yet craving more. She would be a chosen one, yes, another for her hoard, the ones that would adore her, worship her as a demon dryad of lust. They would all come for her, please her, show her the beauty of the hedonistic world that she could create for herself.

Nerin fed her, the sweetness of demonic fruit bursting out of its own skin with ripeness bringing her mentally to her knees. Oh, it was delicious, so very much so, and there was nothing else that Ashley could hope for in that moment but ripples of pleasure, skin trembling where her breath caught and pulled at it. She grunted thickly in the back of her throat, barely aware of what the plant was doing to her husband at the same time, yet it was her experience that mattered the most.

The plant took her, changed her, though most of her body was left as she needed it to be to live, love and tend to her farm. The dryad still needed that, still needed her to be of able body and not entirely lust-stricken mind, though the cow would undoubtedly take her pleasure too wherever and whenever it suited her. Ashley bellowed, her breasts growing and growing, so swollen with milk that they bulged, turning to more hyper intents. There was nothing in her body that was not up for the plant's perusal as Nerin wickedly gave her a heavy, dangling set of udders too.

But lust... Yes, lust. Not everything had to be purely demonic and not everything had to be beautiful with eroticism either. The dryad embodied both of those with wicked pleasure, allowing her heavy udders to be her main feature but allowing her the ability to wriggle and extend her teats too, twisting them into tentacles. They could be retracted into normal teats too, of course, but would allow Nerin to lock onto them as and when she pleased and drain both the breasts and the udders of the anthro cow whenever required.

Ashley's husband fared similar, reaching out for his wife's hand as he watched her body change, her hips widen sharply, the body of a breeding cow. Oh, she was stunning, her breasts begging for his attention even then, her small horns grow, the blaze of something lustful and demonic in her eyes. Her tail burst out more thickly, twisting and twirling back and forth, the hair bristling at the tip, everything stronger, bigger, helping her to control and navigate the intricacies of her sexy yet monstrous body. The black splotches of her coat stayed but the white faded, replaced with red - the most lustful and erotic colour that Ty could have ever thought existed.

But maybe that was because the dryad was milking his cock, vines winding around, rippling and teasing, coaxing his seed forth even though he did not understand what was happening. What Ty did know was that there was more in store for him as the working head of the farm, his insides quivering as he was giving more and more stores to hold seed inside him, though the dryad paused, leaves bristling and rustling thoughtfully.

Hm... Inwardly, she shook her head, the strength to take on her full dryad form, once more, beyond her. His seed... No, this will not suffice.

_ _

Yet he could be used for her will and purposes, letting the reservoirs of seed remain replenishing themselves as she milked him, drawing every last drop of it over and over again. Her vines suckled on his cock, swapping one for another, seducing him with sweetness, infusing his mind with so many thoughts that he could hardly find anything to differentiate one for another. They blurred, showing him the prosperous farm, and he fed thoughts hungrily back to the dryad too, letting her see what he envisioned, her agreement working in tantamount with his needs, his desires.

Muscle rippled, turning him into the biggest and strongest farm labourer that could ever have been needed, standing tall, horns curving out wickedly. They could lock with the horns of any other that sought to challenge him and he snorted heavily, rippling with muscle, curling and uncurling his hands into fists. His hoof-like fingertips grew a little longer, more jagged, something more for purpose than appearances, yet it was the lines of ragged horn-like matter bursting down the line of either side of his spine that he arched into, ejaculating into the suckling pulse of the vine.

More and more... Nerin took it all for him, letting him grow taller and stronger, all with a proud bellow. His white fell away, leaving him with a glistening black hide and red eyes to match those of his wife, their bodies monstrous and yet ones of lust at the same time, a huge cock and dangling set of balls boasting all that Ty had to offer.

But his seed was not enough, however, not even as Nerin fed him her fruits, stuffing him into his mouth as he shuddered and bucked, more and more cum flowing from him, though not a drop of it was wasted. It would never again be wasted as the plant took it, suckling it down, transforming it to strength, power and energy, trembling and growing. Nerin's dryad form, the humanoid shape of her, tingled at the back of her mind, though she was larger, stronger, more lustful than she had been when she'd briefly taken it on earlier, just to see if it was possible.

His seed was useful, letting him remain as a strong member of the working farm otherwise, but she could not change him to a breeding vessel. For his seed was not for the dryad.

He tumbled into his wife's arms, cock finding her pussy, her bellowing moos echoing across the farm as the creatures raced in, surrounding them, all wanting their share. It was too much for them all, their needs rising, twirling through the chaotic lust of it all, passion throbbing with the rise and fall of their eager bodies.

The dryad had her pick of them all, the sound of the bovine couple's moans echoing through the air across the fields, cutting through even to the house where the dragon-mage awoke. He knew there was something there, something amiss, though he was slow to wake, turning over in bed, his blue tail draped out over the edge.

Still... He was the one that the dryad would make use of the most, even though neither of them yet knew how much benefit they would have for each other.

The dryad lusted and grew, her bark cracking as if she was about to reveal her humanoid dryad form within, wrapping her vines around two cows at once. They could not be as lustful and erotic of monsters as she had turned the bovine couple into but they could be monstrous, revealing their true power and potential. She milked both of the feral dairy cows at once as they kissed and nuzzled lovingly at her vines, wanting more, craving more, leaning in, their willingness absolute as they spread their legs.

Alas, even though Nerin could not impregnate them as yet, she could not resist filling them, seducing both their cunts and their tight tail holes with twin vines. She pounded them deeply, lust rising, throbbing through, their passages massaging her vines so intimately that it was quite as if they had been long-time lovers. There was no seed to pass into them right then and there but something akin to orgasmic pleasure trembled through the dryad, driving her on. The ebb and flow of the seasons, but they blended sweetly into one another, was something too, something that reminded her of such quiet ecstasy that it was even a shock to her that it could be brought into the light so powerfully.

Yet even the dryad did not need to solely soak up the rays anymore when she had so many of them there to feed from, taking her leave and liberty of their bodies while they moaned and climaxed around her vines. Nerin twisted and forced another couple of tentacles into each of them, testing their limits, stretching them out even more as her ecstasy grew, wanting it all. Maybe it was the drinking down of so much power that led her to lust so terribly but it was all for her to take as she allowed their bodies to become milk too, leaving only enough of the cows' substance so that their lives would not be threatened.

Soft and the green filtering through the leaves to the forest floor, struck through with darker slashes of mossy luxury: those were the shades that were to embody their new, changed forms. The dryad, however, had no intent of leaving them solely feral, letting the shoulders and the hind end of one round out like moss-covered boulders, reverberating with nature. Nature and lust, after all, came together as they were meant to for a demon like her as more and more vines lashed out, capturing their udders and teats. Those turned a faint green shade that could have been sickly and monstrous to others but was seen as purely beautiful, glorious in how it was presented, to the dryad.

Nerin's lust was shared with them, the cows whose names she would learn later arching and bucking. But it was the transformation of the second that was the most potent, giving her the two-legged stance of an anthro-hybrid, though she was still digitigrade in her presentation, her hooves split and cloven. The green shades of her coat blended into one another like leaves splayed out after falling prematurely and her muzzle slimmed down, elegant and shapely, divine in how it lured one to trail their fingers down the luscious sweetness of it. With thick and full lips, her body was practically designed for sucking cock, her tail rising, forced up, though she would never again have any reason to pin it down, not for any time at all.

Yet she too was gifted massive breasts, huge and heavy with milk for the dryad's lust,

More and more creatures stormed forth, the dryad's power growing so that she could take more of them at once, enjoying them all. Horses, donkeys, cows, sheep, goats, even the pigs there. There were other animals interested too, perhaps ones that had followed her scent out from the forest, and she hungered for a small, sweet doe who was yet to feel the embrace of her vines. The doe pressed up to a mare as the plant took them, suckling on their udders, changing what she could of their bodies to milk, her lust and desire for it overcoming all else.

For it was the nectar that fed a dryad of lust even more than the seed of a male could, her hunger turning her greedy with it, pressing on. She could see, eyes blinking free of the bark, though they were heavy and half-lidded, still needed to come into her true sense of herself.

More... The doe moaned in her grasp, her tail plumping up and thickening while her body took the vines, letting them pound her deeply, take her while she was milked and milked and milked. If the deer had watched the cows being milked for months and years on end, she now had something more at play, something more in hand (or hoof) that could let her use her body in the same way too. Even though she had not been pregnant and lactating to begin with, the dryad let her udders swell a little to be more appealing, the milk held within her, swirling and sloshing like fluid resting too heavily in the pit of her stomach. Her fur turned black-grey and twisted through with patterns like the veining of a leaf, white contrasting as her eyes turned pale.

One could lose themselves in those depths, though the dryad was loathe to release her lusciously erotic form even as she milked the mare, the lactating broodmare more alluring to take. Her teats were pulled down, thick and heavy, though it was her tail that was twisted into a tentacle: another appendage from which the milk that her body was being turned into could be drawn, allowing her easy access. Her neck elongated, becoming more plant-like, leaves bursting forth from where her mane had been, though the shape of the mare's flanks was all designed to draw the eye down to what the dryad craved of her: her udders and her milk.

An ox fell prey to her too, though Nerin could hardly consider it such when he was so willing. That one was an easy change, though she stored some of his seed away carefully in case it could be better used at another time, drawing the magical potential from it, the energy that was contained in all living beings, but not finding something that could be used, as yet, to impregnate the rest. She would need more magic for that, unfortunately, and the ox changed before her into a bulky beast of burden, savage and powerful, his head held high and horns glistening as if with fresh blood. Plate-scales lined his back as he became a demon as part of her hoard too, though she would have to consider the place of yet another male there.

But that was alright too. There was no rush as she slowly worked her way through converting the flock of sheep, their wool becoming so thick in some cases that they could barely waddle around, though it only concealed their milk-filled bodies. Some grew tentacles for legs instead, wriggling and twisting to allow them to "walk", though they were some of her more monstrous creations when Nerin's attention turned more to the ones that could be made more and more lustful in the passionate heat of the moment.

The purity of them, anything that had been innocent and good, however, was to leave too. Not just the milk, the sweetness of it that would give the dryad all the power she needed to keep growing slowly but surely, but what made them up on the inside. One by one, every horse fell to her, bucking and writhing, growing multiple tails, some even spreading massive bat-like wings as she turned them into more suitable steeds. What remained present in each and every one, however, was the eroticism of them, highly-sexualised monsters that were demonic in their eyes, their presentation, stripped of the need to care about anything else in the world. Their world, after all, had narrowed to something light and hedonistic, entrapped solely in the pursuit of pleasure. Never again would worries over their lives and safety ever concern them, living out through passion under the dryad's control forevermore.

The dragon-mage, however, stumbled from the farmhouse with a cloak dragged on over his shoulders, yawning and blinking blearily. Willam was not the quickest, experienced in a wide range of magic, but one could have said that it was his laziness that had stopped him from progressing as he should have in the course of his magical studies. That was something, but not something that would matter any longer in his life, one bare foot after the other, tipped with claws, walking towards the dryad, even though Willam did not see what was happening. He was too tired, rubbing sleep from his eyes, though the magical potential in his blood was all that the dryad needed for the final test.

Nerin locked onto him, filtering a sweet scent through the air to him, a demonic breeze carrying the purple petals his way. She had to call him in, lure him down, though Willam walked more and more quickly, breaking into a light jog. He wore no clothes bar the cloak, which was loosely trapped at his waist and hips with a few buttons,

Brood father... Nerin purred, warming him through as her vines drew him into the writhing mass. You have finally come... It is your presence her that drew me out of hibernation. Are you prepared to spend your seed in the pursuit of something glorious?

_ _

Willam gulped and would have shaken his head if his cock was not already rising into the touch of her tentacles. He wriggled there but his curiosity - ah, that was what was even more aroused than his sensitive shaft. Perhaps he should have been more cautious and perhaps he should have taken more time to consider what he was doing, yet he was a mage for a reason beyond what ran through his blood, the magic inherent within him.

He wanted to know. And that was just why he ran his fingers down the dryad's tentacles, those eyes watching him from the bark of the tree, even though he chanced that there was a shape of a woman in there, somewhere. His cloak was ripped from him, openly revealing the hard length of his breeding spire, though his seed, truly, was only so valuable to her due to the magical properties that it held, though that was all well and good for the two of them. They would have far more to bring to the farm, together, than Willam ever could have done alone, groaning softly, the dragon's head falling back.

His body, however, was not one that needed changing as the dryad groaned, feeding his body so that he produced more and more seed. His nuts just about managed to swell to the size of footballs as she milked him constantly, his jaws hanging open as she took him completely and utterly, tentacles milking, twisting around his body. There was very little of Willam's scales left visible, resplendent in a shade of blue that pleased her, deep and pliable, giving in lightly to the muscle beneath as she pressed on him, teasing and tempting his body in all the ways that she could possibly imagine. For the dragon's body was a toy with which to play with, lusting for him, moaning inwardly as she drew more and more of his seed into her body...

At last!

_ _

Her vines shot out, curling around the farm animals, taking the donkeys first, the great, big beasts of burden bracing their legs for her pounding tentacles. Only, she was larger and stronger, stepping from her tree in a great cracking of bark, stunning in her crimson and black bark, her face smoothly defined so that she could show all the expression that she wanted as a demon dryad that she wanted to. Nerin was stronger, stronger than she had ever been, eight feet tall and dominating as she spread her arms, vines twisting from her hands instead of fingers, even though she could retract them back into something more discernible as hands if she so chose.

Her legs braced thickly, bark shaped as if over muscle, her hips suitably wide, though her waist was straighter than it may have been on a human or anthro woman. That was no matter to her, not as she cradled the dragon close to her, crooning and hissing in a crackling dryad language with undertones of the underworld, his tail supported as he spilt load after slick load of cum straight into her tentacles' throats...so to speak. Every drop of that seed was filtered down and through her body, allowing her to pump it straight into the needy body of the donkeys as they brayed for more.

Their udders hung heavily, swaying, jiggling with rolls of soft flesh, their milk needing to be drained once more as it dripped and splattered, the dryad taking care of them in more ways than one. Where she gave them a load of seed, impregnating them all from the brood father himself, she milked their udders too, though it was more difficult where it came to the creatures with such lustfully twisting tentacles, their need so great that they could barely stay still for Nerin to drain them.

She groaned, head thrown back, hair spilling from her head in a fall of moss and twigs and leaves, the shading of them demonic in nature, the realm from which that part of her came. No more greens and natural colours for her, reminiscent of the earth that had fed her for so many years, but the slashes of autumnal crimsons were struck through with crumbling black, teasing at the darker side of her, the side that yearned for control.

Willam knew none of that, only that he was safe and warm as a bud grew, flowering and sprouting, curling up and around him as it folded him into a soft embrace of petals. It was better in there, away from the outside world that had caused him so much grief for so much time. He would have to make notes on everything that had happened, of course, when he was out again, but there was no sense at all of being trapped in there - only pleasure that rolled over him, tickling his need more and more.

His nuts swelled, holding so much seed, though his body still did not become that of the sexy demonic creatures that he had seen running around - nothing like what had been present on the farm when he'd first arrived there. That excited him, yet even intellectual curiosity on the workings of dark magic and the demonic world could not keep him from what his true purpose was there - at least for a time. Willam had no reason to save those on the farm where they did not have any reason or inclination to be saved, moaning even as a vine slipped down his throat and windpipe, taking over his need to breathe as he was milked and milked. The plant that he was enclosed in only needed him for his seed and everything else could wait, set to the side as he trembled, sap filling up the bud around him, awash in lust and not seeing any reason at all to leave where he was.

Nerin was strong - powerful. Her bark rippled with need, desire coursing through, finally taking his seed, tenderly, for herself. It was the animals, of course, that would need the full load of it but her body would seed more and more buds, spreading the dryad curse, bringing the farm and all that lay beyond into a new age of lust. She did not have an entrance, unless she wanted to transform into an even more humanoid shape, to impregnate but her tentacles filtered that precious semen all the way back through her to her womb, the part of her where her eggs lay in wait, always waiting. There, they would be fertilised, over and over again, swimming in his seed so that there was nothing more that they would ever need or hope for, her future secured as she conquered the land with devious eroticism.

There were more than just her, however, so many more, to impregnate and she had to serve them, their overbearing mistress of demonic flavour. The monsters crowded in and yet she had not even converted all of them to her cause, the rest clamouring for attention, wanting to be changed too. They saw what had come of those who had gone before and it was something too that they wanted for themselves, vines driving deep, pumping them hard and fast, spilling seed only where it belonged.

More and more monsters emerged, mules transforming the more cruelly, for they were not the sort that could be impregnated, alas. They grew huge, the size of elephants, storming and stamping, smoke roiling from gaping mouths and pulsating nostrils, rippling through with broken, jagged crags as if their bodies themselves had become stone, part of the mountains that too would become the dryad's domain. The ones that could be impregnated were bred en masse, the goats bouncing, wiggling, leaping in the air even as they were pleasurably violated, tentacles swelling to ensure that not a drop of seed escaped in their liveliness.

"Yes... My children!"

For they all were as Nerin reaped the spoils of her breeding, the dragon-mage tucked away within a bud of a flower that would not again bloom until she had enough of his seed - though she didn't think that would come to pass anytime soon. She had too much use for him and there were so many dripping teats and breasts there to please, to drain the power and milk from, that she could not pause as her strength grew and grew.

However, not all of the monsters could not remain there with the dryad forever, not even her specialists, though it was the breeders who could stay right by her side. They would be bred time after time again, serving the cause, while the monsters charged out, leaving her side, seeking out others to bring to her. They were loyal to a fault and Nerin knew without truly knowing that their love and lust for her was absolute.

The anthros lunged out first - those that she had converted and the natural ones of the husband and wife. Nerin was quick to ensure that the wife was impregnated with a heady load of the dragon's seed, some part of her quivering in anticipation of the monster that she would birth. That would come, however, and patience was key in breeding an army, a life for herself, something best fitting her power and, of course, her place in the world. Yet Nerin had waited for so long that she could not wait, a wandering wolf that had been lured in by the calls falling prey to her vines, which wrapped around her and impregnated her with another dose of dragon-seed.

She grew as a Highland cow, with a beautifully low coat, leapt away - part of the exotic programme that the farm had been working on, before its disruption. The cows snorted and kicked up their hooves, the stallion from the mares spinning about and among them trying to get his fair share, though the wolf was not interested in them as they bellowed and mooed. The mother wolf growled, lips curling back from her teeth, drooling with fluid that was more demonic than mere saliva, thick ropes spraying forth as she threw her head back in a howl. Her fur thickened and another head and then another sprouted forth, leaving her with three total and a body that narrowed in towards her hips, sexy even in a four-legged, feral form. All eyes would be on her as she lunged out into the world, though she wantonly lifted her tail for the impregnating twist of the dryad's vines, welcoming it all as her hips bucked and fell.

The Highland cows would not be missed, had to be drawn in too, their long fur fascinating Nerin, though she used her vines to lash out and drag them closer, even if she had to be careful of the thickness of their bodies, udders already swinging heavily within their coats. The beauty of their coats was not something that she would break in their transformation as some became half cow and half wolf, others grew draconic spines down their backs, bursting through the fur - but all had huge udders where they were female. The Highland cow bull at the back of the group snorting and boasting a breeding spire that would be enough to spend a demonic dose of seed with anyone more that the dryad wanted to claim.

They would be nothing more than beasts of burden to serve her in the future, their grunts and groans bellowing in lowing moos, echoing forth across the land. Like some others, they would be fuel sources for her, their bulging udders dragging on the ground, showing through even their thick, heavy coats. Never would they run dry, their fate set.

For they may have been consenting to all that happened, the world beyond the farm opening up readily to them, but the rest of the world would not be as they learned just what had begun on that farm. At least, not until they were hit with the first dose of potent pheromones, rendering them helpless even while the monsters impregnated them or seeded them - whatever worked for the moment. Saliva or any bodily fluid, even a drop of sizzling, monstrous blood, would be enough to start their transformation, spreading the dryad's curse further and further afield.

The seekers would do the most work for Nerin, though she would always love her breeders the most. One day, she would travel across the land, seeking out more and more, all for herself, though she wanted them all the same, her power lingering and growing, rippling with so much that she didn't even know what to do with it, not at first. Her breasts grew, swelling out, though they were solely for her own appeal rather than for any lactation purposes. If she wanted to store up milk to drip for herself, she would take it from her servants, letting them feed her and please her. After all, it was a service to them to drain them of milk especially when they would otherwise waddle heavily with the furious weight of it dragging them down.

Not a creature remained on the farm who was not corrupted but Nerin still entertained herself by converting those that crept from the forest - more deer, foxes, even a stray reindeer that must have been from a travelling winter festival. They had better needs to fulfil in the world than being at the whim of others and held themselves in the absolute highest regard in her charge. The rest of the world... Well, they would learn. Nerin didn't have much of a concern for whether or not they would want to be twisted into breeding vessels or servants of hers, bosses, preachers, soldiers and more, only that she did what she needed as a demon dryad with all the power that she could have ever wanted at her fingertips.

The animals that remained and the anthros crowded before her, praising her, adoring her, although the hisses and snarls were more demonic than how they had been previously. They knew her, craved her, lusted for her, nuzzling into her tentacles, letting them feed more and more fruits to their lips, increasing their fertility. Not that that was needed, of course, considering how they were naturally and under the dryad's influence, though Nerin was happy to induce them to an even more lustful manner of being, all for the pleasure that all could share.

It was not about force, not really. And Nerin knew that too as she fucked the mares, udders swinging and dripping with milk, sliding her vines deeper and deeper, tickling up against their innermost barriers. She could even squeeze past those, whenever she so chose, though she couldn't pause, not when their teats beaded with creamy milk, dripping and teasing, tempting her sorely. Nerin did not need more power for the moment and yet she craved it too, suckling and pumping at their udders to drink down more and more.

Again, she grew taller, stronger, though her stomach did not inflate with the milk, the many fluids that she used from their bodies. Where blood was of little use to her, she converted it to milk, spreading her influence, though their shifted bodies lusted for more, letting the milk build up, wantonly showing off their bodies to her. They didn't know that they were sustained by her fruits and her sap but they did not know that their lives would never be the same again.

It was all for the better.

The monsters spread far and wide as the dryad gained strength with those at home with her, letting the anthro bovines tend to their creatures too, though it was all in a very different way to what they had done previously. They milked the cows for the dryad and the horses and goats and sheep and more that had been infused with demonic essence were hardly about to give up on milking either, forever lactating regardless of what stage in their pregnancy they were currently at. They would always drip and leak for her, letting the dryad spend her days and nights milking them, never needing to sleep due to her heritage, the genetics of her demonic body rendering her without the need for such crude rest.

The pleasure was too much for many of them but those that struck out took everything into their own hands, converting hunters that they found in the forest - unlucky or lucky souls that would have taken lives if they had been left to it. They became drainers, the wolf anthros howling as they transformed into beastly and yet irrevocably sexual forms, any ruggedness leaving them as they were taken.

The dryad would have any that returned to her, pounding them with tentacles, taking tail holes, cunts and mouths as she pleased. There was nothing that she would not do, letting her vines wrap around cocks to milk the males too, flirting and teasing, taking all manner of lust in hand as she pleased. The females, it seemed, preferred to be taken anally but even she allowed the males to fuck her, if only to rile them up more, rendering their sexual fervour ramped up to the highest level.

"Yes... My breeders..."

They had magical blood in them too, after she had taken more and more of the magic from the dragon-mage, though he would forever remain the brood father. Nerin crooned to them, her lust high, fucking the females, filling them with tentacles, changing her form to suit the partner that she was with, though the demonic air and the pattern of her blistering, bark-like skin remained regardless what shape she was in.

The corruption spread further and further, plants seeding, more buds of her dryad offspring - among the monsters that she birthed - sinking their roots deep into the forest for unwary travellers to step into. They would be caught and trapped, the new dryads ensnaring them in their tentacles and ploughing all of their holes until they were mindless with lust, drunk on passion and drained of the energy to escape.

Pleasure was the order of the day and even Ty had a mission in hand, the anthro bovine who had once just run a farm smirking as he leaned over a femfur, a feline, who screamed and cowered, though she didn't know what pleasure was in store for her. But he was there to show her, the throbbing monster of his cock pulsing and aching, desperate for the heat of her.

She would know. Soon.

All would be brought back to their queen, the dryad, as food, as new members of her cause, the. Ty snorted, hardly remembering his past life, though he still did not his beautiful, gloriously sexy wife. He would take the feline back for her, throwing the cat over his shoulder even as his hot, moist breath washed over her.

There was no point in her begging him for mercy. No one was going to give it to her. Not Ty, not the ferals on the farm and most certainly not Nerin.

The dryad's power grew.

There was nothing she could not do in her milking power.