Monsters and Maidens: A Simple Job
Maisha’s Story: Branches and Bondage
Maisha hit the ground running, boots slapping against the wet ground as she leapt over a fallen tree branch. Hopefully the two frogmen who ambushed her were on the ground back where she’d left them, but she had no illusions that they were out for good.
Even stacking all of her buffs and using a few abilities available only once per mission, she still wasn’t much of a fighter. That was what her meatshields—err, party members—were for. Except her party was split into more pieces than their boat.
She ran out of breath quickly, even faster than she would on the outside.
“What happened to that whole super warrior thing,” she huffed between gasping breaths.
Annoying, but that’s what she got for picking endurance as a dump stat.
Mission one, find the others. Especially the high level one, silver-whatever. She’d been a jerk, but still had more levels than the rest of them put together. Maisha’s entire skillset relied on having a strong fighter to buff and support, and that woman was the strongest fighter in the party.
She tested her magic, and saw that there were three of them not too terribly far away. At rank one, the spell didn’t give her much to go on. Just a vague sense of distance and direction. She hadn’t spent that many points in the skill, and was definitely getting what she paid for.
Head towards the nearest one, then. Didn’t matter which of them it was, two fighters were better than one.
A branch broke behind her. Maisha spun, but didn’t see anything.
Ok, new primary objective: don’t get caught by any more fucking monsters.
There was another sound. Something moved in the trees, or maybe it was just wind. Considering where they were, though, she didn’t really believe in coincidence. Did the sound come from somewhere up ahead that time, or had she imagined it? Maisha turned down the path, getting ready to run if something showed itself.
“Gotcha!” a leathery voice cried as it jumped out of the bushes to grab her.
Not from inside the branches, but right there in front of them. A chameleon, a freaking chameleon! The stupid thing had blended perfectly into the background.
How was that fair?
The monster grabbed hold and pulled her tight, keeping its grip locked no matter how hard she squirmed. Damn, this thing was strong. She’d have blamed herself for picking magic over strength, but Maisha had a feeling the monster was strong enough to overpower her with any stat build.
“Little girl all alone in the woods. What’s the matter, no team to help you? Were you lost? Or did you wander off on your own to have a good time? I’ll show you a good time.”
“Let go of me you sleazy bastard,” she said, trying to pull away.
He was openly fondling her now, locking her into a tight embrace that let his hands roam free all over her stretchy, skintight uniform.
“Why would I do that, pretty lady? We haven’t even had any fun yet.”
Before she could respond further, his mouth slid down and clamped itself over the base of her neck. She could feel a dozen tiny pinpricks as needle sharp teeth broke her skin. Something pumped beneath her skin, like getting a shot at the world’s most perverted doctor’s office.
Liquid heat shot through her veins. Starting at the place where he had bit her, but racing through her body in seconds until all was afire. His touch, repulsive and intrusive just seconds ago, now stoked those flames into a raging inferno.
She tried to speak, but all that came out was a lewd moan when his scaly hands found her clit. Something large and firm pressed against the uniform fabric along her rear, and horrified though she was, that pressure was suddenly exciting.
“What’s the matter?” he teased, pawing at her breasts, “No more words for me? Fine by me. We don’t need words to have a good time.”
“Actually—” she huffed, trying to control her body’s reactions. “I do have a couple words for you.”
“Oh? And what’s that? Do you want to beg? Are you going to tell me how much you want my cock?”
“No, what I’m going to say is Blinding Touch.“
“Ah! You Bitch!”
He roared, but with his hands busy groping instead of grabbing, it was easy to slip away.
“Heroic Throw”
Aided by a sudden burst of energy, the chameleon man went flying off into the underbrush. Large and strong as he was, she could only manage that while he was off balance. Fortunately, blinding tended to do that to most people.
She ran down the path, making as much noise as she could. When the still sightless monster followed, she ducked into the undergrowth and watched as he kept chasing after the direction she had gone.
Whew, that was close. She crawled away through the foliage, trying to stay as quiet as possible. All the while, mindful of the venom still coursing through her. What she really wanted to do was slide into the nearest thicket and fingerfuck herself silly. It was intense, ludicrously so, but she didn’t dare. There were people counting on her.
Besides, why give the audience more of a show than she had to?
Not that her uniform was leaving much to the imagination right now. Thin as it was, it did absolutely nothing to hide how erect the venom made her nipples. She rubbed them sorely, but nothing seemed to help. The material swept off dirt and water as if it were magic (which it more or less was in the game), but didn’t stop it from showing how wet her crotch had become.
So be it. Nothing she could do, unless she wanted to shuck off the uniform entirely and go naked.
Ugh, why had she put it like that?
Maisha focused on her teammates, trying to ignore the urges swirling inside. They had grown even further away during the scuffle, and she had to work that much faster to find them. Safely, though. The last thing she wanted was a run in with another monster. If it was anything like that last one, she didn’t know if she could even refuse it, much less fight it off.
She had to be careful, staying off the beaten paths. That chameleon was an ambush predator. Near absolute stealth, but totally useless on the run. If he wanted to catch them by surprise, he’d have to stick with the paths and narrows. So long as she avoided those, she might be safe.
The undergrowth was tough going, though. Half of it was foot sucking mud pits that would leave her trapped and helpless for any monster that came after. Half of the rest was dense foliage that forced her to pick her way beneath the gnarled branches. Sometimes, it was both.
Maisha set her foot onto what she was sure had been solid ground moments ago, only to have it collapse beneath her. She yelped, and just barely bit off a loud curse that would have told any nearby monster exactly where she was. Inside her head, though, she was definitely swearing and cursing at the hole that tripped her up.
No mud, though, that was a good sign, right?
She went to pull her foot out, but found that it was stuck, tangled in the twisted vines that lined the hole. Now she did swear. Quietly, but she definitely had more than a few unkind things to say about the damned weed’s mother.
Did plants even have mothers?
Who cares. What mattered was that the stupid things had completely twisted around her ankle and she wasn’t able to make them stop. It was wrapped tight, too. If only one of those stabby types were around, they could have cut it off for her. Or Ember, she’d love burning the blasted thing off, as if Maisha wanted fire that close to her skin.
The least they could have done was give her some kind of utility knife or something, but no, that was just too convenient. If you wanted something in game you had to spec into it, and there wasn’t exactly a Proficiency: Pocketknife or whatever.
She was pretty much out of offensive moves, and none of them were meant for tangled shrubbery anyway. They didn’t have eyes to blind, after all, or bodies to throw. Come on already, she’d taken down three monsters so far, or at least put the hurt on them, the least she could do was handle some stupid potted plant.
Maybe if I just twist here, she thought, then I can- nope, if anything that just pulled the knot tighter. What a weird freaking plant. Weren’t plants supposed to have a bunch of leaves or something? This vine was more like a knobby green rope, the only thing plantlike about it were the thousands of rootlike threads hanging from the sides.
Untying the knot wasn’t getting her anywhere, but how sturdy could that stupid plant be anyway. What if she just braced herself and tried to pull it out? Worth a shot, right? Ok, here we go. One, two, three, ah!
Didn’t work. She pushed, but the vines were even tighter than she thought. All her troubles accomplished was an embarrassing tumble and a sore rear. Wasn’t that going to look great on the camera feed. She went to rub the ache, but there turned out to be a problem with that.
“Great! Now my hand’s stuck too? What the hell?”
Somehow, her hand had wound up in another clump of tangled vines, which had somehow wrapped around her wrist in the sparse moment she’d been on the ground.
“Hey, what the hell? Give that back,” she said, pulling on the tangled vine.
This wasn’t natural, whatever was going on. Even the plantlife was fucked up in this perverted little fantasyland.
Oh fuck...
Somehow, her other hand, the one that was working to free her trapped wrist, had accidentally found its way into a coiled loop in one of the tangles. Just like that, it pulled taut, so subtly that she barely even noticed it happening until it was all too late.
Son of a-
The vines were definitely moving. The one on her leg had started around her ankle, but somehow when she wasn’t looking it had begun twining up her leg, until it was halfway up her bare calf.
“Cut that out, it tickles!” she said.
Actually, the climbing plant did more than merely tickle. Maisha was still pumped full of venom from that stupid chameleon, and the rubbing, creeping tendrils felt really damned good against her bare skin. Slow, though, painfully slow. It was the most terrible, agonizing form of bliss ever invented.
“Let go of me you stupid, braindead piece of foliage, or I’m going to come back here with a woodchipper!”
Maisha tried to tug her way free, but the stupid things just held fast. She tried to slip out of it, but their grip was surprisingly firm. There was leverage to pull on it some, but each time the vines pulled back they ended just a little higher, until her arms were trapped all the way over her head.
“You cut that out,” said Maisha, “or I’ll—”
She’d what, exactly? Her hands were completely stuck, her abilities spent and useless. Her teammates were far enough off that a call for help would only bring monsters.
Even so, it was impossible not to writhe helplessly as the tendrils drew further and further along her body. Inch by agonizing inch they crept up her leg. Ten thousand cilliating tendrils teased her skin, driving her mad with the overwhelming, helpless sensation. Maisha wormed and she wiggled but absolutely nothing she could do would shake their inexorable climb.
Slowly. Agonizingly, unbearably so. Minutes went by for every foot it gained, and by the time the time it reached mid thigh she was practically screaming for it to hurry up already. The slithering tendrils slid and slipped their way down past her armpit, tickling her mercilessly as they slowly extruded down through the tiny gap between skin and fabric.
Creeping, growing, bit by terrible bit they crawled down her body, covering it in a touch most exquisite. Tiny, writhing tendrils found their way to her nipples, and this time Maisha could not help but moan, no matter who might be listening. No longer did she have the presence of mind to consider fighting.
It was bliss. It was agony. All sensation and no fulfillment. Sometimes like kisses, others like a gentle feather teasing every part of her skin all at once. Teasing, touching, driving her into mindless ecstasy.
They tensed, just for one brief second, and with a soft pop her clothing tore into a hundred useless pieces scattered by the wind. Maisha hardly even cared, she just wished the thing would stop teasing her and do something, she didn’t care what. So far, it had not so much as touched her clitty yet. Almost every other part of her, yes, there were tendrils snared around her sides, her breasts, one cupped underneath her jaw, but nothing in that sweet spot which cried so much for stimulation.
“Please,” she begged, her mind wild with lust, “Just fuck me already. What are you waiting for?”
She squirmed and she writhed. Not to escape, but to find some desperate stimulation on her neglected groin. If her hands were free, they’d have been long since plunged into her sopping twat, but they were not. Nothing about her was free. Like the rest, her hands were bound tight, keeping her wild and helpless as the plant teased mercilessly.
Time ceased to matter. There was no longer any thought of victory or defeat. She did not care one slight bit that she had lost the mission, only that something, anything would hurry up and fuck her already.
Ages passed, and finally something stirred between her legs. She did not know it, but the viewers at home had finally taken pity on her. Or maybe they had just gotten bored and were ready to see her cum. The important thing is, they finally voted to let the bondage plant fuck her.
It pushed its way in, and already she was responding, far too amped not to. Back arched, legs spread, she humped back into the plant as hard as she could, as hard as the vines would allow her.
The vine in her pussy did not fuck her, exactly. There was no pistoning, no thrust in and out, but instead a kind of pressure wave, deflating briefly, only to pulse back again so full that she thought she might burst. All the while, a hundred near-microscopic cillia twisted and teased against every part of her pussy’s insides.
YOU LOSE!
The announcement came in time with her first orgasm, and she didn’t care even one tiny bit. A second tendril found its way into her ass, much to the delight of both herself and the audience, and for now that was all she cared about.