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Elana gave a long, drawn out sigh as she took a break from her jungle hike. The fluffy, brown-and-white furred, curvaceous tigress leaned against a nearby tree. She was dressed in a loose fitting outdoorsy outfit, although her sizable breasts left her shirt to constantly ride up from her wide waists, especially with the durable survival vest tucked just underneath her motherly virtues. Her lower half was slightly better off, a pair of hiking khakis with just as many pockets as her vest which hung down to just shy of her knees, held in place by a belt that had all of her important equipment attached.

A wide brimmed hat, complete with a strap which was tucked against her chin, completed the outfit, leaving her well prepared for the tropical jungle she was trekking...

At least when it came to her outfit and necessities. The same, sadly, could not be said for her navigation.

“Hmmm. I’ve definitely lost the trail,” the feline gave a playful sigh as she came to a stop, taking a swig of water from her canteen whilst eyeing the foreign woods as if some familiar feature would manifest before her.

She wasn’t too concerned. A swirl of the large aluminum bottle to feel the remaining water’s heft, and a glance towards the sunlight filtering through the canopy, told her that she had plenty of time to find her way back. Then, if that wasn’t enough time for her to find her way back, she’d admit defeat and fall back upon the GPS navigator and satellite phone she had also brought along with her to either make her way out, or call for help depending on the circumstances.

She might have been a bit of a novice when it came to hiking, but she had made sure to research proper safety and follow advice to be prepared for anything—including getting lost! Afterall, proper preparation like this could be what saved her life if she fell and twisted her ankle, or suffered a more serious injury.

But, that being said, having to use them as a crutch just to navigate back after getting lost—or worse, needing to call for a rescue for the same reason—would have made her the embarrassment of the Wilderness Hiking FurBook group she had just joined!

“Let's see... I had been hugging the side of that mountain for the last hour. So, if I want to make my way back...” she considered her options for a few minutes, humming her contemplations beneath her breath between further droughts of cool, crisp water. “Then I just need to go... This way to get back!”

The tigress smiled, hooking the bottle back onto her belt before attempting to double back the way she had come.

Little did Elana realize, however, that her corrected orientation was only half-right, inadvertently leading her deeper into the tropical wilderness, rather than back towards the hiking trail she had left, and not into an empty stretch of jungle, either.

As she strolled down from the rolling hills around the mountain’s base, she stepped over the overgrown ruins of a chain link fence entirely obscured beneath a tangle of vines and shrubs that had pulled the steadfast barrier down. Alongside the fallen fence was an advisory sign that had been periodically placed along the forgotten perimeter to discourage intruders, likewise hidden from Elana’s vision by a row of leafy bushes; complete with corporate logo of a R&D firm that had gone out of business due to ‘unethical experimentation’.

Caution: Do Not Proceed!

Bio-Engineered Containment Zone Ahead!

To Elana, however, she felt like she had hit a biodiversity jackpot! The further she strolled along her new path, the more she was bewildered by a host of flora and fauna she had never seen before! There were strange animals that were remarkably adept at blending into the local flora, right alongside plants that looked like some strange mix between a fly trap and a flower bud—although she had never seen a fly trap quite as large as these!

Fortunately, they also carried a far more appetizing aroma than the simulacrum of rotten flesh other insectivore plants wafted to lure in their prey. But, that did make her think... If fly traps used that scent to bait their meals, then what did it say when she found these strange off-shoot’s so appealing instead?

She had been tempted to touch them to see them move, but she also knew that would harm the plants if they had to expend the energy to clamp down without seizing prey. Besides, after stumbling across what looked to be a bulb wrapped shut around a small rodent, she could leave the in between steps to her imagination—making her shake her head in condolences to the poor captured critter, especially since it still seemed to be struggling within its thick leafy prison.

The further she strolled through the patch of overgrown jungle, the more she spotted the strange plants... and the larger they became. Fortunately, these specimens didn’t seem to have caught any higher order mammals to test her conscience, but it did leave her guessing just what these ‘giants’ must eat... or how large they could potentially grow...

A thought that became quite prescient when she stepped onto a patch of soil that felt far tougher and ‘leathery’ than the grass and soil she had been trotting along until then.

A shiver of panic immediately raced through Elana’s spine in response. Her primal feline reflexes—readied by the increasingly unseemly environs she had stumbled upon—sprung into action a split second thereafter! She sprung backwards, leaping nearly a full meter as her soft, purple eyes swiveled towards the ground and spotted an absolutely gigantic, several meter wide ‘mammal trap’ plant partially obscured by the surrounding plants where her foot had just been.

Elana breathed a sigh of relief as her boots sank into the soft soil rather than another unseen floral predator. Believing she was safe for the moment, the tigress couldn’t help but watch with a mixture of curiosity and horror as the giant carnivorous plant quivered, making the entire patch of grass around it shake with its movements.

That would have been a truly inglorious fate to be caught in!

But, just as she started to relax and rethink how to navigate out from this dangerous patch, she heard something shift in the ground at her feet.

“Cheese and crackers!” she swore, flinching as she expected her sudden landing to have panicked a snake hidden in the underbrush.

But, as she reared herself in preparation for a lunging bite from a scaled nope-rope, she was instead left bewildered when her soft eyes spotted... A vine. A large, lacquered brown vine as thick as her wrist, caught against the back of her ankle in a long roop, rather than the tri-colored scaled serpent she had feared.

Elana’s mind buzzed, her brain running rapidly as two simultaneous thoughts arose; she must have stumbled backwards and was just tripping on a vine that had always been there... or the plant really did move just like her peripheral vision had thought!

The latter turned out to be the truth when the vine suddenly animated, taking advantage of her bewilderment to coil around her ankle right before her eyes!

“What the heck!?” she cried out again, kicking at the moving vine, only to discover that it was as solid as a rope, and—even more concerningly—as strong as her leg!

The arboreal tendril wrapping around her foot threw her already teetering balance even further off when it yanked forward, dragging her towards the giant mammal trap she had just narrowly avoided!

The tigress’ fur fluffed out, the hairs standing on their ends as she protested and fought against the surprise supporter dragging her towards her apparent doom. Her desperate holding action against the vine became ever more futile as yet more tentacle-like vines sprung forth from the underbrush—wrapping around her thighs and her arms, yanking her limbs apart to prevent her from leveraging her weight against their overpowering hold.

Before she knew it, she was pulled right off the ground, her boots left brushing the foliage at her feet at best, as she was hoisted into the closing, sweet-smelling, floral prison. The giant, inch-thick, leathery ‘leaves’ that composed the trap part of the exotic plant curled upwards, while at the same time, the appealing aroma wafting from its depths grew in intensity, causing the nose upon her short feline snout to wiggle with a strange, tingling sensation.

She had more important matters to focus on than the odd scent, too distracted by the threat before her to notice how her breath deepened with the aroma’s presence, dragging more of the strange odor—and the chemical signals carried along with it—into her lungs. Her cheeks and ears would begin to flush with arousal, and even more embarrassing to her future attention, the areolas on her breasts and the lips of her labia began to thicken and swell with increased blood flow.

Her thrashing movements continued to fail to dislodge the plant’s grip upon her, but the effort, alongside the mammal trap’s own movements, did finally clear away the camouflaging overgrowth that had obscured the giant flora, allowing the tiger’s purple eyes to spy where all the vine-like tendrils wrapping around her were coming from, the center of the flower! In the middle of the giant enclosing sepals attempting to cocoon her joined, there was an open, manhole sized pit in the ground where the large wooden tentacles wrapped around her limbs were spooling back into—dragging her into its prison alongside them.

If that wasn’t enough, more vines emerged from the hidden depths to greet her, reaffirming its hold upon the tigress’ body with yet more clutching, yanking, and constricting vines snaking around her limbs, until her squirms were reduced to nothing more than a token effort!

Not content with just holding her still, the looping arboral tentacles began to direct her body as they wished. The tendrils coiled around her wrists wrenched her arms above her head, causing her breasts straining against their shirt covering to push forward. Other vines around her legs and midsection, meanwhile, worked in tandem with the ones around her arms to keep her positioned right above the tentacle pit’s opening. Countless more joined in from there, focusing less on controlling the movement of her limbs, and instead on slithering along her body—prodding the smooth, lacquered bark-surface along her fur, exploring the curves of her physique with great interest.

One such particularly bold tendril even slipped in underneath her shorts, rubbing along her inner thigh despite the futile, squirming protest of her legs, before ending its journey with a deliberate grinding rub along her surprisingly wet panties—stuck fast to her vulva by her feminine arousal so that the vine-tentacle’s bulk could oh so easily hotdog itself between her tender lips.

Elana’s blush deepened with the contact, her ears flicking back against her head as she dismissed the repetitive, molesting sliding ‘flicks’ of the tentacle between her labia and ending against her clitoris as nothing more than a coincidence. It certainly wasn’t enough to keep her from struggling vainly against the plant’s grip, at least. But, as the mammal trap vine’s constricting coils tightened, and the lone tendril snaking around her thigh continued its toe-clench-inducing torment, it became more and more clear that the grinding press was all too deliberate.

The plant’s touch, the lust-inducing scent pooling within her nostrils, the overpowering bindings constricting her; all together they started to make the tigress reconsider her struggle. Hiding beneath the gentle tiger’s soft and casual demeanor was one hell of a robe bunny that had always delighted in being rendered helpless and tormented, and the current events tickled that depraved kink of hers better than any dom or domme she had hooked up with!

If it wasn’t for her fear of what the plant really intended with her, she’d probably even be enjoying the current events rather than desperately fighting against them—well, enjoy the current events without the fear gnawing at the back of her mind.

Her momentary pause, however, did not seem to go unnoticed by the strange plant, even as the thick leaves wrapping around her closed shut to form a giant bud that wiggled and jostled with her struggling movements and the tentacles writhing, coordinated assault upon her form and decency.

The tentacle pressing along her panty-glued lips redoubled its efforts, slipping back ever so slightly until it blindly prodded its way underneath her panties, before dragging its round, bulbous start over her sex without the soaked fabric getting in the way. More tendrils, too, began to fill the air around her—but with the leaves closed to prevent light from intruding into its living prison, Elana could only make out their presence via their innumerable prods and squirming brushes across her body... With at least two pressing in along the sleeve of her shirt, slithering beneath her tight-fitting vest to coil possessively around her breasts—showing just as much attention towards her mammalries as their brethren between her legs did to her sex, constricting in rhythmic motions against the sizable mounds to coax her perky nipples to a jutting point through the shirt and bra stretched over them.

That was, until, the entire chamber was illuminated by a bioluminescent glow emerging from the leafy walls imprisoning her, the strange purple and pink light pulsing along the floral walls like some strange, alien heart beat. It was captivating in its own right, causing Elana’s ears to unknowingly flicker upright as the illumination ever so slightly slowed and dazzled her thoughts...

Giving the vine-tentacles tormenting her slick entrance with its grinding curves the perfect opportunity to strike, its powerful length hooking back out around the other leg of her shorts, before ripping her hiking khakis and parties apart in one swift motion—leaving behind only straps of cloth that clung to her belt!

The tentacle-vines slithering along her chest followed immediately thereafter, ripping apart her bra, shirt, and durable vest in one swift, coordinated action—all but stripping their trapped tiger plaything hanging within its bowels, laying bare the growing arousal the sweet scent dripping with mimicked pheromones had roused.

Elana yelped, her struggles renewing despite the mollifying influence of the pulsing light from the sudden and terrible destruction to her clothing—her naked, hanging body now left oh so utterly vulnerable to all the violating tendrils creeping and molesting across her being. But what truly brought her panic to a fever point was the open pit beneath her feet where the tendrils sprouted from; the space beyond squelching wetly with the motion of numerous more tendrils pressing forth to greet her from the mammal trap’s depths.

The first were yet more living vines, much like the major limbs which kept her unable to escape, or barely even protest the plant’s designs for her. Except while the large vines were nearly the size of her wrist, these were thinner, their surface a softer green like a freshly sprouted sapling, giving the impression that they may have been newer, younger vines that had not yet matured like the thick, overbearing brown ones.

But, what they lacked in strength compared to the thick, quivering tentacles holding her hostage, they more than made up for in their number and dexterity, an uncountable swarm which looped around her body like a living net of squirming, criss-crossing rope. Yet more joined the larger, more sluggish tendrils to tantalize the sensitive parts of her body; putting their smaller size to good use as they kneaded her breasts and teased against her slick cunt, gripping her breasts and spreading her lips like uncountable fingers playing and exploring with a new toy!

A few even made sure to wrap around her short snout, keeping her jaws clamped shut like a muzzle to stifle her shouts of protests or pleas for help. Even more green vines crept along her lips, pressing in like the ones in against her nethers or probing underneath her tail to map out the superficial contours of her various orifices.

But they were merely the paranoia-sparking appetizer to what came next. With a fearful droop of her ears, Elana watched as three more growths nestled their way up from the sweet smelling pit to greet her. She couldn’t quite call these ones vines. Instead, their soft white, ooze-dripping lengths more resembled a thick, meaty, overgrown flower’s style—dripping with a syrup-thick gunk that reeked of the same sweet-smelling, inebriating aroma that clogged her nostrils. But, as they split and writhed in separate directions, it was clear that they were just as flexible, and just as prehensile, as the vines currently molesting her.

That depraved kernel in the back of her mind couldn’t help but feel an anxious excitement as they slowly, tormentingly, drew towards her—breaking off to each go for a different discovered entrance between her maw, ass, and cunt. An excitement that seemed to be shared by the depraved flower as well, as the goo-oozing appendages would quiver in tandem to its luminescent heart beat, spilling a wad of sticky syrup across her thighs, or across her tits, as they quivered across her body.

Accompanying the three largest, thickest, and most exotic of the tendrils were another bundle of specialized tentacle-organs; two of which had bark that seemed so thin that their lengths were partially transparent, whilst the third was just as thick and as sturdy as the ones holding her aloft in her sealed chamber. All three of the smaller, more specialized tentacles were crowned in a flower bud, with the larger tendril’s being much larger than the first two’s.

She discovered the thinner pair’s purpose first as the trio of large, slick, self-lubricating style-tentacles nestled a member between her rump cheeks, between her thighs, and along her snout, grinding along two sets of lips and her ring without penetrating just yet. Instead, they seemed to wait, allowing Elana to watch as the flower bud crowning the thinner, transparent vines gently tapped along her perky breasts still squeezed and kneaded by the other sets of tentacles. Guided by touch, scent, or some other depraved sense that the tigress couldn’t fathom, the strange buds tapped along the fuzzy mound towards her swollen nipples, brushing across her hard, sensitive pebbles and slathering them in a hint of lubricating gunk dripping from the bud’s folded leaves.

Then, before her very eyes, the flowers opened against her teats at last, sepals parting with strings of lubricating, arousal inducing sap bridging between them, revealing what deceptively seemed like a normal flower... at first, albeit one that possessed a hole connecting towards the interior of the transparent vine it sprouted from rather than a stem.

The greatest surprise came as the flowers clamped around the swollen crown of her breasts—drawing another muzzled moan from the all-but naked tiger woman as the soft petals pressed flush against her curvaceous bust, the fronds that should have been dripping with pollen in a normal flower here kneading over her areola instead. Before, most curiously of all, the entire length of the transparent vines buckled whilst remaining anchored to her breasts, writhing with the suctioning force which rippled through them—sending the pheromone-inebriated tigress’ purple eyes rolling towards her brow as the vacuum induced vacuum suckled against her non-lactating teats!

The naughty plant struck immediately afterwards, starting with the maladapted style tentacle nestling its head between her plump rump cheeks dragging backwards, sliding along the sap-matted fur of her cheek’s cleft until the gunk pumping tendril’s vaguely tube-shaped opening was kissing against her pucker—kept ever so slightly pried open by the thinner green tendrils.

Elana still had enough wherewithal to brace against what she knew was coming. Her entire body clenched, her limbs wiggling against the brown vine’s holding her aloft, whilst her jaw clamped shut against the drooling tentacles’ twin tapping along her lips. Even her vulva visibly flexed and quivered against the length of the tendril currently baptizing her clitoris in slick syrup that made everything it touched tingle pleasantly.

And, of course, the ring of muscle nestled underneath her tail flexed and clenched, struggling against the vines keeping it open for what was to come.

All for nought, of course, as the giant white, syrup-spurting tentacle showed no hesitation in pressing forward, slithering in slowly, yet with even more strength than the mature vines holding her in place. The familiar burning ache of her ring being stretched surged through her senses, coaxing her eyes to bulge as the soft yet firm invader pressed deeper into her backdoor than any toy, or any man, she had played with before.

Her tail flicked high, fluttering as her ring was stretched into a gaping pink over the surging style-tentacle. The invader soon settled into a swaying pump in and out of her hole, rolling with enough force that it caused her body to rock in the hanging grip of the vines’ hold—exciting her sensitive taint with its slick, grinding advancement, while the constant trickle of oozing syrup from its start lacquered every square inch of her inner walls with its pleasure-inducing sap.

Her cunt lips clenched and shivered in tandem to the dance playing out on the other side of her perineum, her own feminine dew welling from her vaginal walls to join the sticky, sugary secretion glazing her vulva to a dripping mess! With every clench of her tail ring around the squishy tendril railing her backdoor, the tendril against her fertile mound reciprocated with a pulsing spurt of its gooey aphrodisia, adding yet another layer to the viscous gunk coating her body as the living faucet’s head drew closer and closer towards her long tormented lips.

Then, just after her body lurched upwards from the tendril pounding deep into her belly from her backdoor, the meaty white tentacle drooling against her nethers met her rolling descent by slamming in as well!

Her quivering walls were lathered in an instant as the syrup dripping in from the tormenting outercore ground in with the style, taking advantage of her descent to plunge deep into her aphrodisia-soaked canal, spreading her sticky labia around its considerable, gut bulging girth!

The one-two punch was too much for Elana’s psyche to resist, especially with the relentless sucklers still latched onto her teats with enough of a slurping vacuum to make her swollen nipples puff and swell yet further into the milking flower’s grip. A deep, euphoric moan erupted from her throat as her two stretched holes spasmed over the thick invading tentacles—their surface as soft as flower petals against her walls yet the flesh beneath was as meaty as any limb.

But, instead of her latest whimper being silenced by the vine-net clutched around her maw, this time the tendrils loosened their grip, allowing her lips to part with her orgasmic cry, the noise echoing in her confined chamber...

At least, until, the final style swiftly took advantage to shove itself into her maw as well~

Her eyes ballooned open once again as her surprised protests were silenced by the thick floral tendril grinding against her tongue—inundating her sense of taste with the sugary sweet syrup spreading its pernicious influence to one last hole. Her tongue shoved against its approach as an act of defiance, but with another body-lifting shove by the tentacle in her cunt slamming right against her g-spot, followed by another from the one in her ass working in concert to bounce her on their girths like some depraved, lurid swing—the muscle relented, settling into a feeble lap against the underside of the cheek-stuffing intruder as another moan vibrated forth from her throat.

All the while, the suckling tentacles latched to her now sore breasts remained firmly attached despite the gyrating rolls and shakes from their thicker, meatier, pounding peers bouncing her within her living-vine-harness.

The oral sap-dripping tentacle quickly came to nudge against the back of her maw, the tube-shaped start pressing just shy of her uvula to force feed its lurid cocktail straight into tigress’ throat. Her gullet spasmed in protest, coughing against the slippery, sugary essence which clung to her esophagus, causing her to sputter awkwardly over the tendril occupying her maw. Her head did its best to pry away from the insatiable style, rolling from side to side as her gagged, inaudible protests continued. To no effect as the rest of the tentacle had plenty of room to follow, pinning her uvula against the back of her throat as it teased the start of her convulsing, muscle-lined throat proper.

All Elana could do was swallow, desperately struggling to clear her esophagus of the gunk faster than it poured in. Her eyes watered from the strain, piling on top of the shuddering waves of pleasure coming from the relentless tendrils' pounding excavations of her lower holes...

The final tentacle of the smaller, specialized trio took that moment to reveal itself. It lifted up high, rising past her syrup-soaked torso, moving above even the thick, meaty syrup-depositor nudging its way deeper into her throat proper, before finally coming to a rest right before her soft purple eyes. The bud was much larger than the ones that were tormenting her breasts, nearly as large as her head, leaving her shivering half-in-fear, half-in-desire, at what depraved surprise this latest accessory might have in store for her.

Its sepal leaves parted to expose the strange, transparent blooming flower within. Instead of the colorful petals which writhed like sap-drooling lips against her nipples, this appendage was composed of thick, transparent petals which spread open in front of her eyes—large enough that the strange blossom spread across much of her gaze as it hung mere inches from her brow, and just above her snout occupied by the the gyrating style-like tentacle sinking deeper into her maw.

The tigress quirked her brow, surprised that the latest sprout was not another tool meant to stretch its way into one of her holes or onto her body. The curious stare her bright purple eyes gave the strange, translucent plant—or at least as much as she could before another climaxing quiver erupted from her double-stuffed holes—left her utterly unprepared for the swirling purple and pink light show that began to dance along the living visor, like a concentrated distillation of the dazzling background glimmers of her prison!

Her ears flicked upright, before her uncertain, half-afraid expression softened shortly thereafter, utterly enraptured by the enthralling light show. It wasn’t until a second later that she realized the peculiar, captivating swirls and pulsating glow was having an effect upon her, prompting a half-hearted effort to wrench her gaze away from the hypnotic bud. To no effect, of course. Between the tight grip the other vine tentacles kept around her head, to the large tentacle utterly stuffing her maw and tentative pressing into her throat, all the way to the fact that she couldn’t bring her gaze to tear itself away from the petals either, there was no hope of her managing to free herself from its mind-numbing show/

But... What did that matter~? The longer she stared into the pretty swirling lights, the less her remaining panic and anxiety mattered! It was clear by now that the plant didn’t have anything terrible in mind for her... After all, it had given her so much pleasure... Even now, as the last of her visible defiance eased from her facial features, the mammal trap worked tirelessly to pleasure her. The fat, aphrodisia dripping tendrils continued to pound with tireless, near mechanical, desire into her now aphrodosiac-sap-dripping holes, whilst the smaller suckler vines latched onto her breasts continued to squeeze and slurp, even the manual gripping vines ensnaring her body continued to grope and tease along her curvy figure in ways not even a legion of depraved masseuses could equal!

Her resistance eased swirl by swirl, breath by breath, grope by grope, and squelching thrust by hole-stuffing thrust. She fell limp, surrendering entirely to the grip of the smooth vine-like tentacles latched around her limbs, leaving her rocking with the hammering blows to her fluttering sex and flexing rump with only a half-muted whimper of pleasure vibrating against the thick, sap-pumping tendril surging down her throat. Not even that final advance, stretching her neckline visibly around its goo belching girth, was enough to rouse her fight or flight instincts anymore, leaving her lips twisting into a subtle smirk around their jaw-stuffing prize.

A shudder briefly flickered across her body when she tried to take a breath, but even that reflex quickly faded after the messy living faucet crept past the split branch to her lungs—leaving its aphrodisiac, hormone-rich sap to be pumped all but straight into her stomach, whilst the tendril itself somehow transported oxygen to her lungs in her esophagus' place.

The brief flicker of resistance faded from her purple eyes, now all but mirroring the hypnotic swirls projected in front of them—leaving her once again happily relaxing, basking in the mind-numbing pleasure that washed across her body from the mammal trap’s relentless conquest.

The depth within her throat was quickly mirrored by the first two tentacles leading the charge. The one grinding in and out of her back door, pulsating along the length of more inner walls than she could imagine, was by far the deepest—pressing so much of its length inside that her listless eyes could spy the telling bulge from its buried girth within her abdomen. The one in her cunt, meanwhile, did its best to match its twin, only to quickly run out of room as its tubular head crammed against her cervix—knocking against the very gate to her womb with each of its rocking, pounding kicks into her depths, bringing with them another shiver of orgasmic bliss thanks to the arousing sap smothering against the unyielding entrance protecting the sacred chamber beyond from violation.

And so she remained for minutes, perhaps even hours. The strange state of her mind from the lust-inducing sap percolating within her stomach, and the hypnotizing patterns of the flower-visor, made it all but impossible for her to tell how much time was passing as she hung there. The sticky syrup coating her holes and inner walls seemed to ensure that they would never bruise, never tire of being the plant’s fuck toy—leaving the next minute just as much of a blur as the last, just a part of one long, nonstop sequence of pleasure and euphoria that defied quantating in her memories.

All the while, the tentacle sap pooling within her guts digested and seeped its pernicious effects into her body, carrying with it nutrient rich carbohydrates to fuel the changes to her body it wrought.

Some immeasurable amount of time later, a new sensation finally disturbed the quiet lake of orgasmic bliss that was her mind—a budding pressure welling within her breasts just beneath her nipples long tormented by the suctioning flowers, slurping with enough force that her hefty bosom jostled independently from the rest of her rocking form.

The disturbance was enough to cause her soft eyes, having been staringly droopily into the glowing patterns until now, to glance down. Her cheeks—still stuffed by the tentacle idly gyrating back and forth within her throat—turned a rosy red along with her ears as she spotted the state her body was in. Her holes overflowed with copious vine gunk, leaving sticky strings of various lengths swaying with the thrusts pillaging her depths.

But it was her breasts and thighs that caught her attention most. They were ever so slightly bustier, ever so slightly curvier than her already voluptuous figure had been before she had been captured.

She couldn’t have been stuck in here for so long that all the sugar-rich syrup she was force fed made her put on weight, could she...?

The thought flickered across her perturbed psyche, but the contemplative ripple across her mind was all but washed away a second later when the tension within her breasts reached their feverpitch. Even the tentacles tormenting her sex and back door appeared to be aware, their ‘stately’, rhythmic, and unbroken pace hastening, whilst the suctioning force of the sucklers slurping over her aroused, syrup-soaked nipples spiked!

Her listless stare focused briefly whilst her gagged-moan vibrated along the thick, flower-soft tentacle occupying the length of her throat—just in time for her to see the kneading grip and pressurized hold on her areolas finally be rewarded with the rich, creamy treat they had been so tirelessly chasing! Her half-dazed eyes briefly flickered open as she watched the first, sputtering gout of her milk spill from her swollen nipples, collecting within the transparent tube of the attached vine.

It was a small, borderline pathetic trickle, collecting perhaps a mouthful of fatty alabaster liquid before the partial vacuum within the tube slowly whisked the nutrient rich, life-sustaining ambrosia down into the plant’s depths from whence all the vines originated. But, for a woman that had never been a mother, even that modest output was a remarkable feat... Causing Elana’s long, fluffy tail to shiver with uncertainty as she contemplated what the plant’s true plans with her must be...

Was the milk flowing from her bust just a result of that tasty syrup that had made her thoughts so fuzzy and her body so warm and sensitive, or was it something more nefarious...?

It didn’t matter in the end, not when escaping seemed just as impossible as before, and the pleasure for staying had only improved with the mysterious development. She was milked, again, and again, each suckling feast from the tentacle-flowers growing in intensity and pleasure as her breasts fattened with milk and the organic factories that produced it.

The broken strings of upwelling fluid turned into short trickles, then steady spurts... Until, god knows how long thereafter, the milk tigress’ breasts were constantly flowing with rich, fatty nectar—harvested in such quantities that the occasional droplet of milky white dew managed to escape the insatiable appetite of the milking flowers latched onto her torso, trickling down her engorged breasts to leave meandering white lines along the sap-matted mammalries.

Somewhere, in the back of her head, Elana couldn’t help but recall a science lesson from her youth, remembering how many plants would form symbiotic partnerships with bacteria or fungus to produce nutrients that they themselves could not easily acquire... Was that what was going on here? The depraved, naughty plant pumping her full of excess sap and the sugars it possessed, then co-opting her body’s maternal functions to process them into fats and proteins it could not easily make!?

As humiliating as the thought was, she couldn’t help but blush, settling once more into a pattern of non-stop pounding and milking underneath the hypnotic-spiralling light of the flower-visor. So what if she was just a glorified milk source for the exotic plant? Did that really matter compared to the pleasure it so dutifully rewarded her service with, ensuring her nethers clamped over the violating tendril with climax after climax, baptising the white, prehensile spire in her feminine cum over, and over again~?

Besides, she couldn’t have been in the plant for more than a few minutes... Maybe an hour at best, considering she had nodded off into lust-drunk dreams on more than one occasion... It must have just been really potent sap...

Her mind drifted back into hedonistic bliss, a mindless blur of sensations and more euphoric shudders of pleasure than she could count. Until, once again, the new normal of sensations she had settled into was disturbed.

Her purple eyes blinked, fighting against the listless pull of the swirling lights, whilst her nostrils puffed in huffs against the tendril that had long since gotten comfortable within her maw. The two styles stuffing her between her legs from both ends had seemingly been invigorated by the rich nectar she had been feeding her host. Their rocking presses into her holes had grown faster and more forceful, rocking her with enough power that she nearly swung from the tentacles’ grip around her wrists and into the side of her sealed, leafy prison!

At the same time, the effects of the sweet, lubricating, and arousal-inducing sap sputtering and painting Elana’s cervix over an unknowable amount of time finally showed themselves as every demanding surge of the tentacle into her love box coerced the gate to buckle and deform—bending backwards to allow the first shiver-inducing spurts of plant-goo to inundate her fertile fields. Her toes clenched, uncertainty briefly fluttering across the placid lake of her psyche, excitement once more rising as every battering, coercing press into her deepest depths sent another rocking shudder of desire and satisfaction blossoming from her depths!

Inevitably, her body gave way as it had so many times before to the depraved mammal trap’s whims. Her eyes rocked into the back of her brow once more, whilst a moan strong enough to ripple to be heard against the pulsating, gyrating feeder tentacle stuffing her gullet and lips. The excitement reverberated throughout her core when the style-tentacle lodged within her cunt seized its advantage and surged forward, cramming in with enough force that its meaty girth barged straight past her cervix to smack against the back of her womb, sending her rocking upwards—only to then be greeted by a similarly depths plunging advance from its partner in her behind!

Her nether lips clamped over the wet frond so utterly stuffing her labia, vulva spasming as another gush of clear feminine dew poured down, a pale second to the torrent of milk that erupted from her breasts in her ecstasy—leaving even the transparent vine-tubes adapted precisely for this purpose to bulge and struggle with the creamy torrent of nutrients her body gave as a reward for the latest height of pleasure it had inducted her to!

But something was different this time. Elana had expected the flower tentacles to continue as they had before, either maintaining their overwhelming, body swinging pounds into the deepest depths of both her holes, or returning to their previous steady, but no less euphoric, unending rut.

Instead they did neither. Yes, the plant-like styles warped into some depraved, orifice stretching tentacles still jostled, rolling back and forth in tandem to ensure her holes never really had a time to rest, but it was nothing like their earlier motions...

Was the plant at last getting tired? Did its seemingly inexhaustible stamina finally come to an end? Or had it gorged upon her alabaster nectar to satiation at last?

Perhaps that meant that she was finally about to be spat out—a thought that made her slightly disappointed, at least whilst underneath the dazzling effects of the spiral-projecting flower still hovering in front of her eyes.

But, what she never expected, was for both tendrils nestled into the deepest quarters of her abdomen to suddenly thicken. The surprise once more wrenched the tigress’ thoughts from the stupefying hold of the hypnotizing glow and scent. Her toes and fingers clenched for the first time in days hours, the rest of her limbs shaking off the strange torpor that had settled into them to kick and squirm, protesting against the demand that her body accommodate more girth from the damn horny tendrils!

But their width only grew, and grew, seemingly in lock step to how her dew and sap glistening vulva, or her equally syrup coated pucker, stretched in answer. Her teeth pressed uselessly against the paradoxically soft yet durable tentacle lodged within her throat, her contorted groans and whimpers of excitement all but silenced along its breadth... Before, all of a sudden, the thickness of the tentacles nestled in her entrances waned, returning to their normal size, and allowing her ring and lips to clench in protest at their treatment once again.

But the sudden girth had not gone away... It had merely breached past her entrances, sliding along the long, coiling length of the tentacles against the softer, stretchier inner walls of both front and back—a vaguely avocado sized lump of some_thing_ semi-solid traveling along the tendrils buried within her. Their passage was only separated by a few inches of soft flesh separating her stuffed cunt and rear tunnels, causing the lumps to squeeze the walls enhanced by their constant coating of sap with greater sensitivity—causing the bound tigress’ toes to quiver and her eyelids flutter, while the impressions convoluted, meandering journeys through her depths stretched, squeezed, and deformed her body in their euphoric wake!

It was only as the next hole-stretching lumps pressed against her entrances that she realized what was happening.

The damn plant was laying its eggs into her!

Did plants even have eggs!?

Then again, plants didn’t milk busty tiger hikers like they were dairy cows either, but here she was!

The thought of being made a mother by the obscene floral creature was finally too much for her to bear—or at least so soon after the revelation! At last, her soft purple eyes managed to clench shut, finally severing the hold the swirling purple-pink patterns had over her mind.

But the same could not be said for her limbs, whose protests against the unyielding vines holding her prisoner within her cramped chamber felt even weaker than when this whole misadventure had begun! That did not stop her from trying; kicking, thrashling, squirming as best she could against the thick brown vines hanging her within the scintillating cell like a canvas—causing her torso to squirm and roll around. Although the various tendrils latched against and nestled inside of her body easily followed along, offering her not one inch of escape.

But, more horrifying than the second set of plant-tentacle eggs rocking against her two entrances—their desperate struggle against the intrusion succeeding only in making the tendrils rock and sway to help coerce the lumps in alongside its own internal pumping—was the first in the set that was journeying through the canal towards her fertile chamber. Whilst the one in her rump could continue on its stately journey to the style’s tip unhindered, this one had one last hurdle to clear—the defeated, yet still clenching, walls of her cervix squeezing down against the style much like her vulva, the only guardian left from the plant’s brood taking root within her own womb!

Her toes flexed, whilst her entire body clenched as if to lend the muscles within her inner abdomen their strength. To no avail, however, as her impaled cervix served as little more than a speed bump to the semi-solid egg within the meaty white tentacle’s girth, allowing it to continue on its lurid journey with a jolt of pleasure as it stretched the chamber’s gate wider.

Before, a second later, its weight sent goosebumps across Elana’s belly as the egg’s impression brushed along the chambers of her uterus... Until at last, with another sputtering spurt of syruppy-goo, a pair of purple-green eggs were spat forth, lodged deep within her belly and cemented in place by thicker sap belching from the tentacles in the egg’s wake. The sensation from the first set of the plant’s brood nestling into place made a groan of humiliation well from her throat, her fuzzy white cheeks and inner ears burning a bright red.

Her purple eyes once again fluttering open to be caught by the hypnotizing flower-visor once again—its swirls now brighter, the illusory whirlpool more enthralling. She couldn’t close her eyes before it was too late. Her vision was once again captured by the scintillating patterns, leaving her mind struggling desperately to keep itself afloat above the quagmire of euphoria and pleasure that unfortunately accompanied every egg’s journey into her body—causing her tits to erupt with a torrent of thick, creamy rope of milk which only enhanced her orgasmic delight further.

It was a long, lengthy, and ultimately losing struggle to remain cognizant. Keeping her mind out of the entrancing captivation did little more than leave her aware of every egg that nestled its way inside of her, letting every shameful climax quivering in their wake rippling through her psyche. Two, then four... Soon a full dozen eggs had journeyed into the depths of her body, implanted within her rump and womb, their combined weight and heft causing her belly to noticeably sag and bulge—especially the brood tucked away in her utterly stuffed womb whose oval shapes could be vaguely seen in the lumps they formed within her gravid belly as the chamber stretched around their sheer number!

But, with each egg, the tubular flower-like tentacles had to retreat, leaving room for the eggs to settle in against their brood-mate before the cementing sap poured in afterwards to seal them in place. Slowly, inexorably, inch by inch, seed-egg by seed-egg, the spunk-erupting tendrils finally began to pry themselves free from her stuffed holes. Each withdrawing jolt came with it a torrent of overflowing syrup from her egg-stuffed holes, growing in quantity the closer the tendrils came to retreating entirely.

Until, as one final pair of eggs were deposited—and the aboral tentacle between her labia was finally pushed free from her womb by the weight of ovoids left in its wake—the seemingly endless sequence of the plant’s clutch pumped into her body came to a sudden end.

It was little condolence to the tigress whose half-enthralled gaze stared pitifully down at her bulging, egg stuffed belly. Its gravid curve and sheer size, embraced by the strong, limber brown vines rubbing along it with almost paternal pride, left her unable to watch the tendril lodged within her sex slip free at last, joined by the one in her back door to leave her gaping pucker and labia quivering in their wake—their idle spasms squeezing out a small splatter of syrup to coat the retreating styles, and create long, sticky strands hanging from her entrances that had nearly forgotten what it felt like to not be constantly packed to the brim with pounding tentacles. But, no matter how her walls clenched or her abdomen flexed, the tendril’s package remained safely sealed within her belly, the uncomfortable ache of their presence and weight remaining no matter how her lust inebriated struggles played out.

A few minutes later, and her resistance petered to an end, once again lulled into a pleasant stupor by the hypnotizing flower in front of her face, the sugar-rich aphrodisiac force fed into her stomach, and the kneading, pleasure-inducing touches of the tentacles across her body. Her lips pursed into a listless smile over the gullet-bulging tentacle still wedged within her body, the sole brethren of the sap pumping, egg laying tentacles remaining.

Her body, meanwhile, shuddered as the slender, squirming green vine-tentacles pleasured her holes in the large, meaty tentacles absence. Soft, flexible tendrils weaved their way around her now heavily pregnant belly and hips, whilst yet more coiled around her breasts and shoulders—forming into a living harness to help support the weight of the plant’s eggs... As well as position her breasts for easier milking. Yet more looped together against her sap-dripping pucker that refused to close fully shut, rubbing and pressing their writhing curves in all sorts of exotic methods to entice the pleasure-sensitive surface of her taint and rump cheeks. But the majority of their attention was put to work on the front of her body—squeezing tightly around her breasts to dutifully knead long thick ropes of milk into the hungry flower-vine’s maw and tormenting her labia in ways she never thought possible.

A few green vines coiled together into a faux shaft to grind and rub over her folds, causing the sticky entrance to quiver from the strange coiled bumps and grooves made by the faux-girth’s design. Yet more teased along her vulva, squeezing, stretching, and grinding in impossible ways against her sticky lips, whilst paying particularly vigorous attention towards the pleasure button that was her clitoris, making her shudder and her heavy, milk-filled breasts sway with her mounting pleasure.

They never pressed forward, though, never took over the style tentacle’s presence within her folds, as if reserving her snatch exclusively for the eggs anchored in place within her womb.

But it didn’t need to plunge into her sensitivity enhanced passage to bring her to another climax, the coordinated assault to her syrup-aphrodisia coated erogenious spots were more than enough to make her walls quiver with her latest climax, and a small sputter of feminine excitement pour forth to trickle into the yawning, tentacle-spooling pit beneath her feet.

Her eyes drooped as her body settled into the new pattern, blurring together into a familiar thoughtless existence of constant, nonstop euphoria broken by the occasional peaks of outercourse and milking induced climax. Her routine was simple; milking, feeding, milking, feeding, another orgasm... and all while the brood freshly implanted within her belly incubated and grew.

Occasionally, her thoughts would flicker up like gas spontaneously escaping from tranquil water under the most mild of disturbances, causing a fresh groan to rumble over the food and oxygen delivering tentacle in her maw as her consciousness-neglected sensations crashed into her psyche all at once. But such moments of clarity were fleeting before the enthralling swirls hovering in front of her face seethed in intensity and dragged her psyche back beneath the placid surface of stupefied lust and euphoria—but not before letting her gaze drift down to see her belly swell wider as the eggs within her matured.

For a brief moment, the tigress considered that such pronounced growth must have taken more than the few minutes she estimated to have passed... But, before she could follow that logical train to its conclusion, the inviting spirals left her smiling happily, thoughtlessly—like the good egg chamber and milk factory she was.

Her belly, matted by sap and milk, soon stretched against her thighs with the weight of the mammal trap’s eggs, looking so pronounced that one could hardly be blamed for thinking she was about to deliver kittens—well, if one ignored the visible lumps the now cantaloupe sized eggs stuffing her uterus and intestines to their sap-enhanced limits!

Until, after god knows how many hours or days, after how many shudders and climaxes of arousal from the tormenting, milking tentacles, the thick glue-like syrup holding the swelling eggs in place finally started to give way. The tigress’ dull, unfocused eyes once again blinked alert as her quiet whimper joined the excited shivering of the plant around her. From the numerous vine-like tendrils holding her prisoner and groping across her curvy figure, to the very walls of her dark, glowing prison, all quivered and writhed in expectation!

The reason for her strange floral captor’s excitement was obvious. She could feel her abdomen—having long since given up on clearing the weight trapped within her belly—shudder once again, at last pushing the first of the eggs nestled into her womb out to crown her cervix that was already struggling to hold back the dozen-sized clutch.

Another quiver, and the gate gave way, allowing the semi-solid lump to finally slip free from her womb and into the birthing canal beyond. Her nethers writhed as they were stretched and contorted over the sizable ‘gift’ she had nurtured for the plant, whilst another hypnotic and aphrodisia-guided orgasm rippled through her depths with the readied seed-pod’s descent. It didn’t take long at all before her clenching, spasming walls, acting in a co-opted, instinctual rhythm, pressed the strange gooey purple egg—glowing with a faint, internal pink light—out, stretching her lips around the small melon-sized prize from the opposite direction.

Elana shuddered, groaning against her throat’s constant companion as the pressure within her abdomen grew, her gaze just barely making out the side of the strange offspring she had made an unwilling surrogate for! She watched as her abdomen and vulva flexed, pushing the oval bud out further between her thighs, only for it to slip back into her traffic-jammed canal whenever her strength faltered and her pushing relaxed.

A sight that repeated again, and again, as her core abdominal muscles struggled with the laborious effort... Every attempt prompted another moan from the tigress as the egg’s girth squeezed her clit and stretched every sensitive nerve in her groin.

Before, with a satisfying squelch and a splatter of syrup and her own orgasmic excitement, the large egg was squeezed past its widest point! The sizable weight slipped from her nethers all at once as her faltering lips now squeezed the ovoid out rather than back in, the glowing, fertilized ovum falling into a waiting cluster of small, soft green vines which quickly, and reverently, shepherded its young into the mysterious depths of the plant’s core.

The first egg was soon joined by the second, but not from her stuffed sex. Its twin, pumped into her ass at the same time as the one that had just escaped, was the next in the depraved incubation backlog. It, like the one from her cervix, had started the long, grueling process of sliding down from her utterly stuffed rear walls, but had been unable to slip free whilst the girth of the first egg had inadvertently clamped her nearby anal walls shut as it struggled to slip through her syrup-slick birthing canal.

But, whether the eggs were being pressed from her pussy or pucker, the process was the same. The feline’s eyes rolled towards the back of her skull, tears welling into their corners from the strain and delirious pressure. Then, with another lurid plop and a sputtering splatter of long trapped, lubricating plant-goo finally spilling forth, the egg breached her stretched-white sphincter and tumbled forth to be caught by the loving ‘father’ once more.

Which then allowed the next egg in her womb to slip forth, immediately squeezed from her womb and shepherded from her abdomen with greater ease than the last as her body settled into its new role.

All the while, every monstrous brood that was forced from her abdomen left the obscene, gravid curve on her belly somewhat smaller than before, allowing the tiger’s listless, fluttering eyes to spy more and more of her thighs and hips, resculpted to be thicker, shapier than before—at least until the next descending egg sent her eyes kicking back up to her brow once more.

Her leaky tits, just as enlarged as her thighs and hips, continued to erupt with milk, only kept from making a mess all over herself by the dutifully suckling flowers whisking the turbulent flow of creamy fat and protein down into the same unknown depths its nurtured eggs were being escorted—although the force required to keep up with the feline’s enhanced production made the transparent tube-vines buckle and quiver after each vine-kneading, nursing-miming squeeze of her tits.

Eventually, after god knows how many eggs later, she finally felt the last of her surrogate brood slip free, letting her belly mostly return to its former flat state. A sigh of relief tickled against the feeding tentacle within her throat as she spotted her labial lips flex and retract back to its prime despite having just laid an entire brood of kitten-sized monster plants.

One more thing to be thankful for that miraculous syrup still trickling forth from her holes, her perturbed mind pondered.

But, surely, the plant must have been done with her now...! Despite the rhythmic pulses that continued to play havoc upon her brain, making neurons spasm and misfire into a dazzled enthrallment that took constant effort to resist falling back into now that the novel sensation of her egg-laying had finished...

She relaxed, ‘breathing’ easily (or its nearest equivalent with the tentacle in her throat providing her oxygen) as the milkers ever-anchored to her breasts finished their latest feast, awaiting for the glowing, pulsating chamber walls to part and restore her freedom...

Instead of the relief that would have come with the chamber wall’s parting, however, she felt only a growing sense of dread and excitement as the other two style-like, sap-dripping tentacles responsible for her previously gravid state once again lifted from the gap beneath her feet. Their meaty white, floral surfaces flexed, quivered, and sputtered with syrup, ripe and ready to start the entire incubation cycle again!

“Mmmnff~!” Elana protested against the third large, sap-pumping tendril, only to have the gagged complaint break into another euphoric, listless moan as her cunt and pucker were stretched by the familiar tentacles.

Her walls clenched, welcoming them, milking them for their liberally drooling aphrodisiac nectar, inviting them in deeper.

Once again her mind fell into a blurred, hedonistic state of depravity, trapped in an unending cycle of pleasure and satisfaction as the mammal trap—now intimately familiar with her body—abused every last nerve it had discovered, making her moan, wiggle, and squirm so vigorously that the giant, vaguely person-shaped chamber of her leaf prison wobbled with her swinging motions as she was egged.

The familiar weight of the floral creature’s brood inevitably nestled their way through the spunk-belching tendrils, lodging themselves into the familiar crevices of her fertility and rear depths.

Once again, hours, days, even weeks passed as the cycle repeated. Her belly stretched around the bloated, mature seeds as the smaller tentacles coaxed a nearly constant string of orgasms from her egg-stuffed and milked body. Before, with the same obscene, moaning fervor as her first clutch, she dutifully laid them for the tentacle plant’s collection.

Only for the cycle to repeat again with the styles return... Incubating, then laying, then ovipositioned, again and again—all the while accompanied by the vines on her breasts drinking down gallons of nutritious tiger milk deep into its depths...

For all Elana knew, the cycle might repeat endlessly, her body sustained and increasingly optimized for laying and milking by the plant’s sugary sap—a paranoing thought which occasionally flickered across the placid lake of her entranced thoughts, before the disquiet was chased away by the inviting swirls upon the flower-visor’s petals.

Fear? No, she hoped it would go on forever... An existence of nothing but pleasure and the satisfaction of fulfilling her hijacked maternal role~

But, sadly, all good things must come to an end sooner or later, and as the seasons changed, her life-altering encounter with the mammal trap found its book end.

It waited for the final clutch of its brood it had implanted to be laid, but already the blur of unchanging euphoria had subtly shifted. The sap drooling from the style in her maw was less sweet as the plant switched to conserving energy for the winter—causing the flow of her milk to likewise taper off to a more... manageable... quantity without the sap’s supplemental nutrients and hormones.

There was one more surprise as her egg-bloated abdomen began to quiver for the final sonnet of their lurid embrace as well—a shift in the tentacle that had been idly jostling back and forth within her throat for all this time. No longer did it roll idly, shifting with its rhythmic bumping motions as it force fed her its delectable nectar. Instead, it rolled back, prying itself from her gullet inch by inch, causing Elana’s thoughts to spool back together in equal measure...

Until, as the first egg of her latest clutch crowned her labia, the style that had long been her permanent companion finally slipped free from her maw, soaking the tigress’ face in its sticky spunk one last time—right as her lips opened to allow a somewhat hoarse, but no less euphoric, moan to erupt forth with her surrogacy’s euphoric culmination!

The flower in front of her face remained, doing its best to keep her just as enthusiastic as always even as the flow of fresh aphrodisia came to an end, as did the tendrils hastily nursing the last of its ill-gotten bounty from her breasts. But it wasn’t enough to stop Elana from quivering, her limbs that had been sluggish for gods knows how long stirred reflexively as the eggs were pushed from her core.

All while her whimpers and moans echoed from within her floral cell, bouncing back from the walls to reverberate over her ears, as the last batch of semi-solid, slick purple, glowing eggs spilled forth from her lips and back door.

With every egg she laid, a set of the young, immature green vines wrapped around and pleasurably-tormenting her body retracted to retrieve them, gradually freeing her with each precession. Until, as the final egg in her womb was about to slip free... The style that had been in her throat but had not yet retreated fully pressed into her cunt, greeting the ovoid in her fertile chamber and pushing it back in before it could pass through her cervix!

Only to immediately be followed with a cementing spurt of sap from the tentacle which glued the gate to her uterus closed, trapping that final egg inside her belly!

“W-what are you doing...” Elana moaned breathlessly, remembering her words at last as the flower-visor in front of her face finally fell silent—its scintillating patterns stilled as the transparent leaves returned to their dull shape, before closing back into their bud and retreating into the plant’s depths as well.

Its removal was soon joined by the sucklers that had long since made themselves at home upon her breasts, releasing her swollen, milk-pebbling teats, and leaving them to trickle with leftover milk down over her breasts.

Her mind slowly began to knit itself back together, struggling to process her long bouts of mindless sensation as the mammal trap continued to extricate itself from her. The last of the lighter, more dextrous green tentacles pulled away, leaving only the powerful browns that had kept her hanging within her claustrophobic prison.

Yet even they would begin to uncoil from her once by one, disappearing into the depths hidden beneath her feet...

Before her soft, purple eyes flinched as natural light filtered into her prison for the first time in who knows how long, growing stronger and brighter as the giant leaves composing the chamber’s walls retracted, leaving her hanging above the open flower pit within the familiar overgrown jungle.

Until, rather unceremoniously, the plant all but dumped her onto the ground by its side!

Elana blinked, bewildered that her pleasure-wracked ordeal had finally come to an end. Her gaze stared incredulously at the depraved creature now tucking itself into the ground—the thick sepal-leaves that had ensnared her closing shut to resemble a bulb, before sinking further to properly conceal itself in the insulating dirt.

“W-what am I supposed to do now!?” she groaned, before slowly, tentatively, finding her footing once more—half staring at the plant responsible for the egg still trapped in her womb as if it could provide an answer, half glancing over the wilderness she still didn‘t have the first clue on how to navigate.

How the hell was she meant to get out of here after the damn thing had destroyed her clothes!?

Heck, how the hell would she explain what had happened even if she did!?

That final thought made her blush as her attention turned to investigating herself now that she had the privilege of daylight. Her eyes still weren’t quite at their best, the lengthy hypnotic induction had left swirling afterimages floating over her vision that would take some time to fully fade away. But, even with her limited observations, she could see how her time as the mammal trap’s prisoner had irreparably changed her—altered her.

Her body was much curvier than before, her breasts several cup sizes larger than their already considerable heft had been. A curious grope from her hand afterwards revealed that her engorged areolas were oh so sensitive, and oh so eager, to dribble with a constant production of milk like those of a dedicated nurse maid. Her hips and thighs were wider too, presenting quite the wonderful hour glass shape as her hands rubbed along her silhouette, making her quite the bombshell to those that admired a woman that screamed fertility...

She was practically the very image of bountiful maternal beauty!

Which reminded her of the ‘prize’ the plant had left within her on its way out, a carry-on that made her ears and cheeks blush, and her hands to drift towards her abdomen. Sure enough, the small-melon-sized egg was nestled nice and secure within her now thoroughly experienced womb, waiting for the plug the tentacle had glued to her cervix to falter before it could be pushed out into the world.

Again, her tail swished defiantly behind her, upturning her nose to the slumbering, well-fed plant with a huff. “Is that your plan, huh~? Leave me to wander off and let your pernicious little fruit spill free somewhere far from here so your progeny can spread~?”

Although, she thought with a deeper, rosier burn within her flushed ears, that idea wasn’t too unappealing. She wouldn’t mind having one of these mammal traps in her garden back home...

Especially if she could teach the damn thing to not be so greedy!

That thought inevitably left her wondering how to get home again... Fortunately, the plant had shown her some small mercy when it had torn apart her hiking garment to access her body—it had left her belt behind! The durable strap still hung around her wide waist, albeit absolutely lathered in the sappy, syrupy mess coating her from head to toe.

Even more fortunately, the most important parts of her survival gear—her GPS and satellite phone—were still attached!

With a resigned sigh, she plucked up the navigation tool. Despite her pride, it would be best to get home quickly—the jungle felt quite a bit colder than it had been before her abduction, leaving her guessing that she must have been stuck in the damn plant for so long that the sun was about to set...

Only for her ears to jolt upright, and her jaw to go slack, as she saw the date upon her device.

She had apparently spent months dangling in the tentacle plant’s grip, months of time having been nothing more than a sleeve for its thick tendrils, of having her holes plugged to the brim with its girthy eggs, of having her breasts drained and trained into dutiful, nurturing milk factories that could mother dozens of kittens.

“Oh gosh... Just what am I going to tell everyone!” she bemoaned while walking away from the ruined bio-lab grounds, walking towards the nearest point of civilization highlighted by her GPS—one hand holding the device, whilst the other brushed against her abdomen ever so slightly distended with one of the loose subjects.

Still... She couldn’t help but blush recalling everything that had transpired in that time... The hand upon her belly sliding down to loosely tease along her oh so sensitive, syrup-glazed labia as she walked.

She was definitely becoming more excited to push this last egg free... But what type of soil would a mammal plant need to grow big and... vigorous~?