CHAPTER 86: MAP 2 LEVEL 1 - 5

Sereya refused to move, her voluptuous body tense, her gold-wrapped band straining against her heavy breasts, nipples rubbing the fabric with each breath, sending unwanted jolts of pleasure through her.

Even as a thick vine spread her legs farther, brushing her clit with the tip of a cool leaf, circling the swollen nub with agonizing slowness, she locked her amber eyes forward, rage masking the arousal building in her core.

Her fingers flexed, her breath came slow and controlled, one drop of sweat trailing between her breasts, vanishing under the wrap, her slick mound dripping as the vine dipped lower, teasing her tight hole without entering, her imperial pride cracking under the humiliation, her pussy aching with need she hated.

Elira was last, her muscular frame rigid, a vine sliding across her nipple, the sharp sensation making her whole chest twitch, her firm breasts heaving, nipples erect and throbbing.

She exhaled harshly through her nose, her scarred thighs tensing, another vine touching the inside of her thigh, grazing her slick pussy lips.

She slapped it away instinctively, her hand trembling with suppressed rage and desire, her wetness betraying her as it dripped down her legs.

The vine paused, hovered, then began to rise, its tip glistening, poised like a predator sensing weakness.

And through it all, Kota didn’t move, didn’t blink, his cock straining thick beneath his tight junglewear, his dark eyes fixed ahead, his breath even, a beacon of control.

The jungle didn’t lunge.

It lingered, its humid breath curling through the mist like a lover’s teasing exhale, heavy with the promise of violation.

The air was thick, suffocating, laced with the sweet, musky nectar of blooming flowers that pulsed like swollen clits, their petals unfurling with soft, moist sighs that made thighs clench and nipples harden against the jungle’s cruel garb.

For Elira, that patience was torture.

Her muscular body stood rigid, her short silver hair disheveled, her scarred frame tense under the barely-there leather straps that crossed her firm breasts, leaving her erect nipples exposed, brushing the humid air with every shallow breath.

Sweat beaded on her tattooed abs, trickling down to her slick thighs, her pussy aching with a mix of fury and unwanted arousal, the leather thong between her ass cheeks dampening as the jungle’s heat stirred her core.

Vines curled near her thighs like hesitant fingers, grazing her hipbone with featherlight touches that sent jolts through her, another trailing along the faint scar beneath her breast, teasing the sensitive skin.

She didn’t breathe, her jaw clenched, her violet eyes glaring at the shadows, rage masking the building need between her legs.

Selene trembled behind her, Sereya frozen in disdain, Lyra aroused and furious, Veyna muttering under her breath—but Elira glared, her dominant nature refusing to yield.

The first real contact came subtle, insidious—a vine rising between her powerful legs, brushing—just barely—against the lips of her cunt, pressing the damp leather into her slick heat.

The sensation was electric, a teasing pressure that made her pussy clench, wetness flooding her thong, her clit throbbing with humiliated need.

She twitched, a faint shudder rippling through her muscular frame, her nipples hardening further, her breath hitching. I

n a flash of instinct, her hand snapped out, striking the vine with a clean slap, like punishing a disobedient subordinate.

"Don’t," she snarled through gritted teeth, her voice low and rough, laced with suppressed desire.

"Touch me like I’m weak." Her thighs quivered, her pussy aching from the brief contact, arousal dripping down her inner thighs despite her fury.

The jungle paused, the moss beneath her feet throbbing faintly red—a warning, a pulse, a signal that sent heat blooming in her core.

Then it began, a dozen vines moving as one—not striking, but embracing, their slick surfaces glistening with nectar that promised ecstasy.

They wrapped her wrists—not tight, not cruel, but with intent, lifting her arms, spreading them apart, holding her aloft like a trophy.

Her legs followed, gently parted by roots that rose beneath her boots, sliding under her knees, opening her wide, displaying her toned body, her firm breasts heaving, nipples erect and begging for touch, her slick pussy lips parting beneath the thong, glistening with arousal.

"Shit," Elira muttered, her jaw clenching, her breath ragged as humiliation washed over her, her dominant switch nature cracking under the vines’ gentle control.

She thrashed once, her muscles flexing, her scarred thighs straining, but the vines held firm, their grip unyielding yet teasing, sending shivers through her core.

Another tendril moved past her stomach, down between her legs—beneath the thong, inside her slick folds.

Her violet eyes snapped wide, a gasp escaping her lips.

"No—" she growled, her voice breaking, her pussy clenching instinctively around the intrusion.

The vine pressed in, slow and deep, sinuous like a tongue made of sap and silk, stretching her tight walls with agonizing precision.

It wasn’t brutal—that was the worst part.

It was gentle, exploring every sensitive inch, curling against her most vulnerable spots, making her body betray her with a flood of wetness, her clit throbbing untouched.

Her head rolled back, her short silver hair matted with sweat, her chest heaving as her firm breasts bounced with each involuntary twitch, her nipples aching for relief.

The vine pumped into her with practiced motion—knowing where to stroke, how to curl inside her dripping pussy, how to hold her at the edge, teasing her g-spot with relentless pressure.

Elira tried to resist, wanted to resist, her muscles straining against the vines, her tattooed abs flexing, but her hips rolled forward, meeting the rhythm, her pussy gushing around the tendril, her arousal dripping down her thighs.

Her moan cracked through the jungle like a fire breaking dry wood—long, shaking, unrestrained, her voice raw with humiliated pleasure.

Her body convulsed as her climax hit hard, her pussy clenching tightly around the vine, squirting in violent spurts, her thighs quaking, her nipples throbbing.

She came again, her screams echoing, her scarred body arching, sweat flying from her skin.

Her whole body began to glow, gold light pouring from her mouth as she screamed a final, shaking breath—and the jungle accepted her, her form dissolving into a shimmer of golden dust.

A single black strap from her shoulder guard hit the moss with a soft pat.

Then silence.

PLAYER ELIRA – TERMINATED.

VIOLATION THRESHOLD EXCEEDED.

The vines slithered back into the earth, retreating like satisfied lovers.

The jungle had eaten.

And now it waited again.