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kinkfestTitle: Men, Who Needs Them?
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
queenoftheskies
Rating: R
Warnings: ecomantic sex
Word count: 715
Prompt: Pirates of Dark Water, Tula - tentacle-sex - the strange plant that reacted strangely to her magic
A/N: This is late. Sorry.
Summary: Tula gets it on in the jungle.
Tula stomped into the jungle without looking back at the Wraith. If they wanted to leave her, let them—good riddance—but she needed a break and some privacy, and she was going to get both before she set foot back on board the ship.
Stupid Ioz. Stupid Ren. No, it wasn’t the boy’s fault. He was young and obsessed with his quest. She could understand that he didn’t give her a second look. But, the pirate, he’d looked her up and down often enough. What was it about her that kept him from making a move and satisfying her growing needs?
The jungle grew dark and over-crowded with willowy trees that drooped flower-laden vines. A pretty enough place, to be sure, though she’d seen plenty of pretty places turn deadly fast. The closer she could stay to the beach, the better she’d feel, but she didn’t want Ioz catching a free show with his spy glass, so she plowed deeper into the trees.
Her ecomancer senses fairly tingled with the abundance of plant life around her. It only made her hornier, until she couldn’t wait to find an ideal place. Ducking around one of the broader trees, she leaned up against it and shed her clothes.
Magic sparks danced around her fingers. The result was a pleasant jolt when she touched her fingers to her breasts. Pleasure echoed at points throughout her body and pooled into pleasant warmth between her legs.
Around her, the plants stirred. Flowers opened, vines swayed, and those not attached to trees crawled up around her, swirling and wrapping around her legs. Her first thoughts were of escape, but when the tendrils failed to bind her, she left them be. She rather liked their soft velvety feel, the way they scraped her skin gently, adding to the growing excitement in her groin.
When she moaned, the plant grew excited. New tendrils, fresher and deeper green than the rest, rose up around her, heavy with heart-shaped leaves that brushed against her, and covered her breasts. Her hands dropped to her sides, her eyes closed, and her strange lover caressed each spot she’d teased, prying and squeezing until she writhed beneath its touch.
Squeezes turned to pinches, tweaking her hard nipples until they throbbed with pleasant pain. Her hands smoothed the skin of her hips; her fingers worked their way across her belly. The vines followed, touched each place she’d touched, stroked, caressed until her body was on fire.
Tendrils skirted up her legs as her fingers dropped lower, wrapped around her fingers as she teased herself. Tiny, delicate runners, wrapped into tight coils, worked their way past her hands and into her, spreading out into her wet heat, filling her, thrusting into her, while she thrust against them.
They crawled across her, pulling her hands to her sides while the smaller vines fulfilled her needs. When tickling her clitoris pushed her over the edge and her body shuddered with much needed release, they caught her when she fell, cradled her while the pleasant sensations continued to fill her body.
Spent, she slept until the sun fell low in the sky and she woke to a cold sea wind that chilled her bare skin. She dressed quickly and hurried from the jungle, suddenly frantic that the men might have sailed without her.
#
Niddler was the first to spot her, from his perch on the rail.
Ioz was the first to yell at her, demanding, “Where in the seven seas have you been, woman?”
Tula shifted her bag filled with the few provisions and some new specimens she’d picked up on the island.
“I hope you’ve got some food in there,” he called after her when she disappeared below deck.
She didn’t even yell back, but found an old wooden box and dumped all the dirt she’d managed to lug back into it. Pulling the tiny sprigs of vine from her bag, she planted them carefully--the strange plant that acted strangely toward her magic-- tending them, watering them before she stepped back to survey her handiwork.
They were just babies now, but under her ecomantic care, they’d mature quickly. By the time they reached full growth, she wouldn’t even need a man any more.
And, what would Ioz think of that?
Author/Artist:
queenoftheskies Rating: R
Warnings: ecomantic sex
Word count: 715
Prompt: Pirates of Dark Water, Tula - tentacle-sex - the strange plant that reacted strangely to her magic
A/N: This is late. Sorry.
Summary: Tula gets it on in the jungle.
Tula stomped into the jungle without looking back at the Wraith. If they wanted to leave her, let them—good riddance—but she needed a break and some privacy, and she was going to get both before she set foot back on board the ship.
Stupid Ioz. Stupid Ren. No, it wasn’t the boy’s fault. He was young and obsessed with his quest. She could understand that he didn’t give her a second look. But, the pirate, he’d looked her up and down often enough. What was it about her that kept him from making a move and satisfying her growing needs?
The jungle grew dark and over-crowded with willowy trees that drooped flower-laden vines. A pretty enough place, to be sure, though she’d seen plenty of pretty places turn deadly fast. The closer she could stay to the beach, the better she’d feel, but she didn’t want Ioz catching a free show with his spy glass, so she plowed deeper into the trees.
Her ecomancer senses fairly tingled with the abundance of plant life around her. It only made her hornier, until she couldn’t wait to find an ideal place. Ducking around one of the broader trees, she leaned up against it and shed her clothes.
Magic sparks danced around her fingers. The result was a pleasant jolt when she touched her fingers to her breasts. Pleasure echoed at points throughout her body and pooled into pleasant warmth between her legs.
Around her, the plants stirred. Flowers opened, vines swayed, and those not attached to trees crawled up around her, swirling and wrapping around her legs. Her first thoughts were of escape, but when the tendrils failed to bind her, she left them be. She rather liked their soft velvety feel, the way they scraped her skin gently, adding to the growing excitement in her groin.
When she moaned, the plant grew excited. New tendrils, fresher and deeper green than the rest, rose up around her, heavy with heart-shaped leaves that brushed against her, and covered her breasts. Her hands dropped to her sides, her eyes closed, and her strange lover caressed each spot she’d teased, prying and squeezing until she writhed beneath its touch.
Squeezes turned to pinches, tweaking her hard nipples until they throbbed with pleasant pain. Her hands smoothed the skin of her hips; her fingers worked their way across her belly. The vines followed, touched each place she’d touched, stroked, caressed until her body was on fire.
Tendrils skirted up her legs as her fingers dropped lower, wrapped around her fingers as she teased herself. Tiny, delicate runners, wrapped into tight coils, worked their way past her hands and into her, spreading out into her wet heat, filling her, thrusting into her, while she thrust against them.
They crawled across her, pulling her hands to her sides while the smaller vines fulfilled her needs. When tickling her clitoris pushed her over the edge and her body shuddered with much needed release, they caught her when she fell, cradled her while the pleasant sensations continued to fill her body.
Spent, she slept until the sun fell low in the sky and she woke to a cold sea wind that chilled her bare skin. She dressed quickly and hurried from the jungle, suddenly frantic that the men might have sailed without her.
#
Niddler was the first to spot her, from his perch on the rail.
Ioz was the first to yell at her, demanding, “Where in the seven seas have you been, woman?”
Tula shifted her bag filled with the few provisions and some new specimens she’d picked up on the island.
“I hope you’ve got some food in there,” he called after her when she disappeared below deck.
She didn’t even yell back, but found an old wooden box and dumped all the dirt she’d managed to lug back into it. Pulling the tiny sprigs of vine from her bag, she planted them carefully--the strange plant that acted strangely toward her magic-- tending them, watering them before she stepped back to survey her handiwork.
They were just babies now, but under her ecomantic care, they’d mature quickly. By the time they reached full growth, she wouldn’t even need a man any more.
And, what would Ioz think of that?
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