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Plant vore

Plant Vore Les détails du produit

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Plant vore

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Plant Vore Video

Bulletstorm Plant Vore

He frowns-Google knew of his lunch plans. Why would he interrupt them? He sighs, getting up and explaining the situation, and Dr.

Schneeplestein offers to walk with, so they can continue their conversation. Iplier smiles and nods, glad he has such an amicable acquaintance, and he leads Schneep to the garden, where he was told to go through in order to reach Google.

The garden is large and vast, ceilings reaching twenty feet at least, large flora brushing against rhe greenhouse style walls and roof. It is eerily silent-not a single creature lives in the garden, and Dr.

Iplier holds back a shiver behind a smile as he leads Dr. Schneeplestein through the veritable forest the Googles have cultivated.

A pitcher plant, larger than any Dr. Iplier has ever seen, lies open and waiting for Schneep to fall. The two get up, much more aware of their surroundings and footing.

The eerie vibe that permeates the air becomes much more apparent. They are shoulder to shoulder now, and all comversation has ended. Iplier turns,eyes wide as he sees the vines slithering towards him.

He takes a step back to try and get away, knocking Schneep back into that pit he just escaped moments ago. The pitcher plant rises up to meet the poor doctor, and Edward can see the silhouette of Schneep in the plant, clawing at the sides and trying to reach the top.

The lid to the plant has shut, and the stem of the plant start to pump in the digestive liquid.

It sticks to his skin and makes his skin tingle, but he uses it to help him reach the top more. His fingers press against the lid of the plant, and the pitcher plant opens.

With a hoarse scream, Schneep is pulled under the surface, limbs wrapped up by vines. His hands claw at the pitcher plant walls, and then they go to try and tear at the vine that holds him down.

That only makes more appear, wrapping around his limbs and holding him against the bottom of the pitcher. He screams, a flurry of bubbles reaching the surface.

He is suddenly lifted up in the air, and from his position held upside down he sees a large Venus flytrap looking plant, the mouth opening wide to drop Edward into it.

He screams the moment he has breath, falling with a wet splat into the moist mouth of the plant. He crawls towards the edge of it, trying to make his way out, but the mouth shuts, blocking out light.

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The scent was intoxicating; a heady mix of honey and herbs that seemed to smother everything else. The woods were a symphony of colour as the flowers bloomed at their fullest, yet the many hues seemed duller and duller as the smell seeped in.

It took over the mind, poisoned all thoughts save for the desire to find its source, and slowly lead its victims from the beaten path and into the dappled shade.

Even the scratches of brambles or the sharp snap of twigs failed to break the trance. Eyes seemed to glaze over or shut completely.

As the smell grew stronger so did the tingling heat that danced across the skin, and the labouring of breath and the sluggish, languid motions of the mind.

It was like a warm, sticky blanket that smothered body and brain. And so one unfortunate found herself; fair of hair and of skin she wandered from her usual route and into the dark grove.

She was plain, a peasant of no particular note, but pretty enough to draw the eyes of the village boys, and with enough graceful curve to ignite their lusts and fill their dreams with wicked thoughts.

The ivy cloaked trees parted ways into an explosion of colour, filled with flowers she knew not the names of. How could she, when she had found the source of her enchantment?

A large, fleshy structure, akin to an upside down bell, hanging from the largest tree. Every step flooded her mind with more of the sticky sweetness.

She drew up close to the bell, the lip reaching just above her own head. She reached for the rim, the green flesh yielding enough to form a gently dip, and her knees buckled as the full force struck her.

She wanted it. Needed it. She had to have more of the wonderful sweetness. She tugged the lip, new waves of it rolling into the air, craning her head inside.

She pulled again, willing her shaking limbs to hoist her body upwards. Her legs tried their hardest to find purchase on the smooth skin.

Her arms heaved her torso upward. Finally her shoulders passed the rim, and she reached forward, tongue lolling from an open mouth as the precious nectar loomed before her.

With a splash she fell into the bell, and the gargantuan leaf looming above slowly closed upon her. She was a pretty one.

She was a tall woman, with skin turned a dusty brown from her time in the sun and a body that could only be described as motherly. Her hips swayed as she walked barefoot across the carpet of flowers, her ample breasts jiggling gleefully in their freedom.

She could feel the girl inside squirm gently; hear the nectar splash amidst her throes of passion.

By now the internal tendrils would be working their magic. She giggled as a tendril descended from above and nuzzled against her face.

Another tendril appeared, pressing insistently against her stomach and she laughed, giving it the attention it needed.

She sighed contentedly as the bell came to rest in front of her, the leaf-hatch refilling the grove with the scent of the nectar inside.

Another tendril poked at her soft body, and another, and another. Almost a dozen long, green vines curled around her limbs and stroked along her body.

You might have to catch a handsome young lad soon. And you know how Mommy likes to play with them. The tendrils rubbed along her, squeezing thick thighs and gently groping her breasts.

They ground and pressed sensitive spots; her muscles loosening until she was like putty in their firm coils. She let out a low moan, lightly stroking the few she could reach back.

He was so good to her! She looked down, smiling as she found herself hanging over the glistening pool.

But who would look after my big, snuggly boy then? The smell inside really was something else compared to her limited exposure. She felt something slither around her, pouting as the head of a tendril broke the surface.

I am disappointed in you, young man.

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2 Comments

  1. Moogumuro Mauktilar

    Diese Version ist veraltet

  2. Mikaran Sall

    Sie sind nicht recht. Geben Sie wir werden es besprechen. Schreiben Sie mir in PM, wir werden umgehen.

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