Harvesting the Seed
Harvesting the Seed
Commissioned by Hikaru Kitsune
Written by Solstice the Fennat
This is a dual-scene story commissioned by Hikaru Kitsune of FurBuy. It was quite a challenge, and some issues in actually delivering the final product had it take a looong time.
But here we have the tale of a ratkin mage who's using a very interesting plant to gather the semen from a male feral-form druid.
Problem is, our intrepid hero Vistan... well, he gets a little too clever for his own good and ends up on the wrong end of the druid's attentions when he disguises himself in the body of a female feline.
His revenge later... is quite sweet, and the druid gets his own.
1.
Vistan's whiskers and sensitive pink nose both twitched nervously as he set the trap in the middle of the grassy path in front of him. In a few minutes he would take the Potion of Polymorph, and then consume an aphrodesiac that would set him into a false heat while in the form of a feline. He just had to hope that he had set the thing correctly, or he would be in a great deal of trouble. Every time he had to set the trap, especially in situations like the one he was currently in, he got worried that something would go wrong. If everything worked out right, this would be the last sample that he would have to collect for his teacher and master, a strange old elven wizard named Seren.
For some inexplicable reason Seren had gotten it in his head to collect the semen from as many humanoid and quadruped species as possible. Rather than do the dirty work himself, he had set his most prized apprentice on the somewhat onerous task. Vistan wasn't really sure he wanted to know the reason why the old wizard was collecting the creatures' seed, and had never had the audacity to ask. Some questions really were best left unasked, and Vistan had a feeling that was one of them.
The seed was collected using a plant derived from an artificially mutated form of the mandragora plant. Typically, the plants would capture and consume smaller prey, immobilizing them and slowly digesting them over the course of weeks. This one, though, had been altered, its' size grown to one where even the heartiest of humanoids could be captured by the thing's vines and held to the body of the plant. It would bind the helpless victim with dozens of vines, and spend as many as three or four days keeping the victim in a heightened state of arousal, drawing dozens of unwilling orgasms from its' prey and storing what was produced in pouches on its' trunk. It would also leave a few seeds in its' prey, seeds that would grow for a few days before the victim passed them out quite harmlessly. While the prey was immobilized, Vistan would go and cut off one of the pouches full of seed. The nature of the pouch kept the milky fluid fresh...
The job had been easy at first; Vistan still couldn't believe that so many would be willing to subject themselves to the abuses and depredations of the plants, which could be quite rough indeed. Eventually, he'd had to resort to trickery in order to force some of the more exotic prey. The process had taken nearly two years of Vistan's life, and a few close calls had left the ratkin's dark brown fur a few shades whiter than when he'd started.
The last target on the list was one of the sekash-mir, a sect of half-elven druids that had totally embraced the way of the feral form, to the point that they lived, hunted, slept and even bred in their vaguely puma-like shape with a long black mane and dark grey fur. The only time they ever stepped out of their feline shapes was to craft the jewelry that adorned their bodies and work tattoos into each others' flesh, or make a very occasional trip into civilized lands. They were also very unfriendly to outsiders; just asking for their help was out of question, so Vistan had set all his ratkin intellect on a plan to capture one of their males while out on a hunt.
The solution had come in the form of three potions... one keyed to give him the shape of a female sekash-mir, the other a potion that would set 'her' into a false heat, and the last one that would dampen magical resonance to the point that Vistan's target wouldn't be able to detect there was magic at work. The potions would wear off in about three or four hours, enough time for him to seduce one of the males while he was out hunting.
The ratkin examined the trap one last time, ever worried that something would go wrong. If it did, the experience would not be... pleasant for him. He nodded confidently; he'd keyed the trigger on the plant's senses to half-elves. Grinning, he laid some leaves over the plant, and then stepped a number of metres away before taking out the three potions. Unstoppering the first, Vistan closed his eyes and grumbled, then downed it in a single gulp. The taste was vile, and made him wonder for the thousandth time why alchemists and mages could never make a potion taste good.
Before the potion could take hold, Vistan pulled the stoppers on the other two and drank them as well, making a face. Only moments later, he felt the change beginning to take hold. The process wasn't one that he enjoyed very much, no matter how many times he went through it. He let out a cry as he felt bones cracking and popping; it didn't hurt, it was like he was disconnected from all pain. The most unusual part was feeling all his belongings melding with his body just as his fur began to change.
He fell onto all fours, and let out the tiniest whimper as he felt his balls and cock shrivel and move inward, insides churning as he felt everything starting to rearrange within him. After only a few more minutes, what stood there was a sleek, midnight black feline with arcane-looking fur markings all over. Not quite panther, not quite cougar, not exactly like any natural feline species, the body of a feral-form sekash-mir was a mixture of many different species.
Vistan yawned; and then laid on the ground a ways down the path from the mandragora plant. He'd studied the hunting patterns of one of the far-ranging members of the druid sect, and one of them came close to where the now-female Vistan was languishing.
It wasn't very long before Vistan felt the warmth in 'her' loins, an insistent tugging need. A few seconds later the scent hit feline nostrils that flared and began to twitch. Sweet Cerrid, Vistan thought, that stuff's working fast! Without even thinking, Vistan found herself letting out little mewls and whimpers as she buried her face against her own sex and began to lick at it. Okay, this I could like, Vistan murmured.
As Vistan licked, her taste grew sharper, and the air grew heavy with the scent of feline heat. I'm doing this so a male will smell it, Vistan tried to tell herself, though she knew full well it was a lie. Truth was, it felt good. She didn't even notice the male until it was almost too late. A soft growl came from down the path, and Vistan's head snapped up.
The male that stood in front of her had to be at least half again as big. He had a greyish-purple pelt and a large mane of deeper charcoal fur. Silver earrings pierced large, elongated ears, and a silver chain hung with the symbol of Ashka, goddess of nature dangling on a pendant at his neck. His whole body was covered in tribal tattoos that glowed faintly. When Vistan looked up at his eyes, her self-pleasure forgotten, she saw a gaze that was both hungrily feral and deeply intelligent. Despite herself, Vistan couldn't help but think that the male was perhaps the most handsome example of his 'species' she had ever encountered.
Vistan mewled playfully at him; raising her rump in the air and waving her tail to waft the scent of heat at the mail, and then bounded down the path to look back at him, letting out a low playful growl. Come on, a bit farther you beast, she thought, just a few more feet and you'll be mine.
Predictably, the male perked his ears forward and began to stalk towards Vistan. His teeth were bared a little, his mouth half open, drawing in her scent. One paw in front of the other, every step took him closer and closer to the hidden mandragora plant. Vistan mewled a little, more than a little excited by the thought of getting to watch another male taken by Seren's creation. When the male finally stood by the mandragora, Vistan realized his worst fears had come true. Somehow, the trap hadn't sprung... and there was now a very interested, very aroused half-feral male stalking down the path toward her.
Vistan's eyes widened in shock as the feline stalked toward 'her' without a care in the world. She let out a little mewl of fear when she saw that a goodly length of barbed feline shaft had already slipped free of the male's sheath, the tip beaded with a clear droplet of pre-come. This was the worst-case scenario come true; the sekash-mir had passed right through the trap, and didn't have any idea that the female down the path from him wasn't anything but another feline in heat.
I have to get out of here... Vistan thought desperately. The hungry, almost lewd gaze in the male's eyes told her just what would happen if she was caught. The most frightening part of it came when she felt her sex, already dampened from the false heat, clenched as she caught the scent of his arousal. No matter what Vistan the ratkin apprentice mage wanted, her feline body was going to react quite predictably.
Letting out a frightened mewl, Vistan turned tail and ran, hoping that she could escape a fate that she wanted nothing to do with. She'd taken a female form once or twice just to experience something similar, but always with humanoids. The thought of being mounted by what was for all intents and purposes a feral feline, was not something that appealed to her.
For a single instant, she thought that the male would lose interest in her because she was running, but not long after she heard the heavy, rapid footfalls of the sekash-mir giving chase. What's more, they were drumming the ground much faster than her own feet were carrying her. As she barreled down the path, she came to the grim realization that with her slower speed and his likely intimate knowledge of this part of the jungle, she didn't have much hope that she would escape.
She burst into a clearing and stopped, whirling around to face her pursuer. So threatened, she was surprised to find that her claws were unsheathed. Her nose twitched and her eyes scanned the underbrush for some sign of the male, but she couldn't see anything moving. Still, the scent of male arousal filled her mouth and nostrils, so she knew that he was out there somewhere.
Still, it seemed as if she was being given a moment's respite, and so she let down her guard just a little. Without even being aware of what she was doing, she felt herself lowering her forequarters so that her chest was touching the grassy ground while her rump stayed up in the air. It was only a few seconds later that she realized just what she was doing, and snapped to attention.
In order to make the disguise believable, Vistan had been sure to make sure that the potion would make her feline and female in every way possible, while retaining her intellect. What she hadn't considered was the fact that instincts, especially ones that the ratkin was unused to, would override conscious thought.
A low growl to Vistan's side alerted her to the male's presence only seconds before he leaped into the clearing, bowling her over. The two rolled a few times, and even though Vistan hissed and spat, trying valiantly to struggle and pull away, she found herself on her belly, the weight of the larger male settled on top of her, the tip of his barbed cock smearing her backside with slippery pre.
If Vistan had been in full possession of her faculties and not fighting her own body's instincts, she might have been able to bring herself to buck the male off. As it was, to her horror she found her tail flagging to the side, fully bearing her puffy vulva. No! No, oh Cerrid no... Vistan screamed inside. Heavy paws wrapped around her waist and hot breath spilled over her back as the male started to thrust.
The thin tip of the male's shaft pushed at her backside, a few stabbing thrusts not quite hitting the mark. She almost howled in fear when one of those thrusts grew dangerously close to her anus. The male's shaft was wickedly barbed; unlike a biped feline's cock, there was no softness to them. If he buried his cock in her bowels, it would hurt. A few more thrusts actually drew that shaft even closer to her tight tailring. Oh god... I have to... Vistan thought with horror, I've got to help him...
Vistan let her body take control fully; it was either that or let her fighting result in a much more painful experience. She lifted her backside up a little more, pushing back. The male growled loudly and then lowered his head to her neck, licking gently, his raspy tongue grooming at her fur. The clumsy thrusting slowed; it was as if the male sensed his 'mate's' distress and wanted to go slowly for a moment. Again, the head of the feline shaft trailed against her puffy vulva and then sank in a half inch. She mewled desperately, a sound that she only half hoped the male would recognize as need.
The male stopped and stiffened when his shaft finally hit home. He opened his jaws wide and clamped down on the scruff of Vistan's neck, and his forepaws wrapped around her body a little tighter. Ohgodohgodohgod Vistan thought, scarcely able to believe what was happening. She was about to be thoroughly mated as an animal would be, and there wasn't a thing she could do to stop it. With a savage half-growl, half-grunt the male thrust forward, burying his barbed shaft deep into the female beneath him.
The howl that erupted from Vistan's throat was pained as that rigid length spread her passage wide. The male's teeth held her still and helpless to his pleasure, a fact that the male was taking very deliberate advantage of. The barbs scraped on her inner walls almost painfully, but at the same time she felt herself pushing back against the thrusting, her instinct overriding the pain.
Over and over, the male slammed into those moist, silky depths, thoroughly enjoying the rippling of the muscular walls around his length. His barbs flared a little, eliciting a pained mewl from Vistan; she'd heard that in the height of a feral-form's arousal those barbs would grow even more pronounced. She'd never once thought that she would have to experience their touch firsthand.
Vistan could feel her juices seeping out each time the male pulled back, leaving a small puddle on the ground and the fur on her legs soaked with her pleasure. Every savage thrust made her mewl and howl, her whole body shaking with the force of the male's thrust. Her snatch felt rubbed raw by the stiff barbs on the male's shaft, but to her horror, she continued to rock back against each one of those thrusts.
The climax came suddenly, without any of the buildup, without any of the feeling of inevitability that Vistan was used to. One moment she felt as if those barbs were going to make her bleed, the next, a crashing wave of pleasure filled her. Her whiskers splayed out in front of her, and she let out a howl of bliss that was entirely feral. Whereas before she'd felt little dribbles of her juices spill out, she almost gushed with her climax, soaking the male's legs and the ground in her pleasure.
At the same time, the male had grown still again for a few moments to let his conquest enjoy her climax, and then with one more savage, desperate thrust, he howled his own pleasure, those barbs flaring again just as he began to shoot streamers of feline seed deep in his mate's body.
Not a few minutes later, the male finally let go of Vistan's neck and then hopped off of her. His barbs tugged painfully at the lip of her cunt, and to her horror, she could see there was a little blood. She twisted around to inspect her snatch, terrified that she was injured. The male leaned down and nosed at her sex, rough tongue flicking out to lap up the juices there.
Vistan mewled again, and then howled; the stimulation of that skilled tongue set off another lightning-quick climax. Try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to strike out at the male. Instead, she bucked her hips against the probing tongue, her body crying out for release. Despite the soreness, she felt herself rolling over again and lifting her rump in the air a second time.
The male continued to lick at Vistan's moist sex for only a few more moments before, without warning, the male reared himself up again and bent over her, hips jerking. She let out a howl of dismay, trying to pull away this time, but the male's grip was entirely too strong. The situation was made worse by a much more savage mating bite than the first when the male latched onto the scruff of her neck with his powerful jaws.
It was then that Vistan remembered one important, horrifying fact. Felines, full blooded felines -and for all intents and purposes, that's what the male was- could mate over and over, as many as a dozen times in succession. As she felt the male's stiff barbed male shaft plunge into her aching depths for a second rough mating, the only thing that she could hope was that he finished before the potion wore off...
2.
When all had been said and done, the potions had lasted long enough, but that had been no consolation to Vistan, who had endured a full ten mountings in the end. By the end, the ratkin-turned-feline had been given over solely to primal instinct, and had enthusiastically participated in the final three matings, much to Vistan's humiliation. It had only been through a supreme force of will that he had remembered to run off after the male had fallen asleep next to Vistan's feline form, spent.
What had been worse was Seren's reaction when Vistan had come home empty-handed. When Seren finally managed to pry the story from Vistan, the mage had laughed for a good ten minutes. For all that the dark-furred ratkin idolized the old elf, he hated Seren with a passion at that moment. Vistan had been all but raped over and over by a four-legged feral feline, and all that the old mage could do was laugh uproariously?
Vistan had refused to even talk to the old mage for weeks; he'd simply locked himself in his chambers and bathed himself over and over. For days he would wake from nightmares where he was trapped forever in one of the sekash-mir female forms; try as he might, he would be unable to escape the not-so-tender affections of one male after the other.
Eventually, he'd recovered enough to try and figure out what he'd done wrong, what he'd missed that had made the mandragora fail to react to the feline. After hours of pondering the dilemma, he'd finally figured it out. The revelation wasn't a pleasant one; he'd keyed the senses on the mandragora plant to react to a half-elf's presence. The problem was, Vistan's prey hadn't been a half-elf; he'd been a feline.
Seren had congratulated Vistan on finally figuring it out. Five minutes later, he'd demanded that Vistan go back out and harvest the sekash-mir seed. Vistan had flat-out refused to do it, to the point that he'd threatened to drop his studies entirely. There was no way that Seren could convince him, it seemed... until Seren had brought up the idea of getting vengeance on the same male that had mounted him repeatedly.
And so, a week later, Vistan found himself hidden behind a magical veil that Seren had given him, a gift that the old mage had been saving for his naming-day. He'd properly set the trigger for the trap to react to anything male and feline that crept near, then dropped the magical veil on himself a few metres down the path. The only part of his original plan that had remained was the use of the dampening potion to eliminate magical resonance in his immediate area.
There wasn't a doubt in Vistan's mind that the trap would work this time, and even if it didn't, he wasn't directly in harm's way. All he would have to do was sit down and wait. As soon as he saw the male along the path, he would drop a vial on the ground and crush it. In it was concentrated feline pheremones; within seconds the druid would notice and head down the path.
Vistan only had to wait for maybe half an hour before he saw a majestic looking feline striding down the path. Much to his delight, there was no mistaking that the feline stalking purposefully down the path was the same one that had taken its' pleasure from Vistan many weeks before. Grinning, Vistan dropped the vial of feline pheremones on the ground and crushed it beneath his feet, a wicked grin on his face. The possibility of revenge on the male that had forcefully bred him over and over had spurred Vistan on, but he'd never really believed that he might truly get to trap the same one.
The druid's nose began to twitch moments later, and he opened his mouth to take in the scent. Vistan grinned and murmured under his breath, "Yeah, come on... you smell that nice hot cunt don't you..." As if responding to Vistan's words, the male began to pad down the forested path slowly.
Despite all his preparations, Vistan felt the tiniest stab of fear when the druid came close to the mandragora... there was no telling what the male might do if he found Vistan here in such a state. And so it was with great relief and no small measure of sadistic pleasure that Vistan saw the mandragora plant strike with lightning speed, attempting to entangle the druid as fast as possible.
The feline was snarling and spitting as thin, whip-like vines wrapped around his hind legs and forepaws. No matter how much he thrashed and bucked, more vines would replace any he escaped. It was only a matter of time before he was pulled neatly spread-eagle and the plant begin to reel him in, each of his legs wrapped in a mass of writhing tendrils. Behind him, the leaves of the mandragora unfurled to reveal soft pink inner petals and a small hole in the centre of the plant that was moist with something like nectar. A of the vines wrapped around the druid had their bases around that hole.
Vistan let out a soft whimper as a sweet smell tease his nostrils; even a year later, the strong scent of the nectar could still arouse him. He reached under his robes to begin stroking his own shaft as it slipped free of its' sheath. "Don't worry, kitty, you'll like it soon..." Vistan murmured, then almost bitterly added, "which more than I can say about what you did to me..."
The captured druid had also noticed the scent, and was slowly weakening, a fact that the plant took advantage of, wrapping more vines around his torso and teasing that soft, furry sack. By the time the vines had lifted him into the air, the druid's struggles had ceased entirely. Whether it was from exhaustion or from arousal, Vistan couldn't tell, but it didn't matter at this point. There was nothing the druid would be able to do to stop the mandragora from harvesting his seed.
The plant began to stroke a single thin, slick tendril around the lip of the druid's sheath and then pushed its' way in, eliciting a surprised snarl from him. Inside his sheath, the tendril had wrapped around his shaft, manipulating the sensitive organ before it had even emerged from within the confines of that fuzzy sheath. Behind him, the vines had wrapped around the base of his tail, preparing him for a much thicker vine with a limp bulb like a deflated balloon at the tip.
Vistan stroked himself as he watched from his hidden vantage point, his soft pawpads playing across his flesh almost lazily. He was going to enjoy seeing this one make his 'donation' to Seren's collection. "Such a noble, majestic creature you are..." Vistan whispered, "You'll mewl like a fucking kitten soon."
Indeed, the druid's snarls had turned to pleased growls, though his eyes showed he knew that what he was feeling was an effect of whatever was in the sap. He struggled weakly in the mass of vines, his fur growing soaked with nectar, every bit of him on lewd and humiliating display. As his length slipped free of its sheath, he let out loud growls, hips bucking in both protest and instinctive thrusting.
The thick vine at the druid's tail-hole pushed and prodded, but didn't yet push into him. The mandragora began to pull him close, the thin tendril wrapped around his shaft directing that barbed length at the hole in the centre of the plant. Even if he tried to wriggle away, it wouldn't be long before six inches of feral feline flesh was enveloped in the warm, moist hole. Vistan could tell from the almost glazed look in the druid's eyes that he wasn't trying to escape though.
When he felt his cock embraced by that tight passage, the feral growl that erupted from the druid's mouth was almost identical in tone and pitch as the sound he'd made when mounting his most recent conquest. Vistan grinned, pumping his own length a little faster, only stopping when he felt his climax coming. There wasn't much point in finishing himself too soon. "You like that don't you..." he panted, "Just wait."
The druid let out a pleased mewl when the silky, almost flesh-soft inside of the plant began to jerk and twitch, almost suckling on his oversensitive cock. His hips rocked despite knowing that he was at the mercy of something he knew nothing about. As the petals of the mandragora closed, wrapping all but his head, forelegs and hind feet in a wet, soft embrace, he tried to struggle again, but it felt too good to do more than give the tiniest effort toward freeing himself
It was at that point that the vine at the druid's tail-hole thrust forward, spreading that tight ring of muscle without a thought for comfort or pleasure. The druid howled in surprised rage; he'd forgotten that vine in his pleasure, and the sudden invasion at his rear end was enough to snap him out of the haze of bliss. His claws unsheathed and he snarled and writhed, but he was bound too tightly, and there was nothing for him to snap at, which was probably the reason that the mandragora had waited until that point.
Worse still, the druid felt something pushing at the tip of his shaft and then slipping in smoothly, stretching him out, and then two more thin vines joined it. It actually didn't hurt very much, all he felt was a pressure inside him in places that he'd never been touched. Moments later the bulb at the end of the vine in his bowels inflated to twice the size of a human's fist, leaving him feeling uncomfortably full.
The druid snarled again, jerking, fighting the process that the plant had gone through dozens of times. The suckling sensations intensified, and the little vines inside his length slowed and stopped, the tips latching onto various spots inside him... though he couldn't see it, one was in his bladder, the other collecting fluid from his prostate, the last harvesting his semen right at the source.
Vistan moaned; he knew just what was happening by the shocked expression in the druid's eyes. His paw began to stroke again, the plant was almost ready to begin harvesting in earnest. It would be only a couple hours later that he'd be able to collect the reservoir from the mandragora plant. He grinned when he saw three vines slip out from beneath the wrapped druid. "There you go..." he whispered.
One of the vines was thicker than the others, and was dripping with the same heavily scented nectar that coated the inside of the mandragora's petals and vines. The two smaller vines wrapped around the druid's neck. The way they approached his face was deliberate. Implacably, they pushed at the corners of his mouth and then inward. Try as he might, the druid couldn't keep the vines from wrapping around his upper and lower jaws.
The look in the druid's eyes was desperate, feral, and he snarled and bucked with all his might as the third vine darted at his muzzle and pushed in. Almost immediately the thinner vines wrapped around the druid's muzzle and pulled it closed around the feeder vine. Moments later, a steady flow of nectar began to pump into the druid's mouth. He thrashed a few more times, and Vistan was worried that he might choke rather than swallow the sickly sweet fluid.
Vistan almost came when he saw the druid relent a final time and begin to swallow the nectar. With a supreme effort of will, he tore his paw away from his shaft, not wanting to spill his seed quite yet. In only a few quick moments, the druid would stop caring what was happening; the nectar would induce a sexual frenzy in druid that would override all thought and protest. For just a moment, the hidden ratkin wondered why the plant didn't just force-feed that immediately. He resolved to ask Seren when he got back to the mage's tower.
As Vistan watched, the petals wrapped around the captive druid even more tightly. The druid's hips began to rock and jerk as the velvety depths that embraced his shaft began to ripple and manipulate his length. The wild, terrified look in his eyes began to turn from desperate fear to a blissful ecstasy as the nectar began to work on him, much faster than Vistan would have thought.
If the druid had known what else was going to happen, he might not be so enthusiastic in his thrusting, but nobody was ever able to resist the intoxicating nectar. The three vines inside his shaft began to twitch and swell, and even more vines began to wrap the druid. It would be maddening for him, Vistan knew. More and more vines would wrap the druid until not a single inch of his fur was left open to the air. Totally immobile, he would make offering after offering of his seed; even as the plant would leave its' own within him.
Vistan let out a moan; the truth was that he'd always wanted to ask Seren to let him try a session with one of the plants, but had been too afraid to ask. Besides, the thought of having to carry a heavy load of seeds in his bowels for weeks before having to pass them, that part didn't appeal to him at all. And so he lived vicariously through watching Seren's targets get taken.
The druid's eyes widened, and began to look left and right; he'd heard Vistan's moan. That moment of clarity was enough for Vistan to swear that the druid had seen him with his paw wrapped around his own thin shaft. Vistan chuckled quietly, however, when the haze of bliss returned to the druid's gaze.
One after the other, dozens of vines were wrapping around the druid, whose eyes began to show frustration as his already limited ability to thrust into the moistness was taken from him. Frustration quickly gave way to a surprise as he felt the first of dozens of climaxes fill him, and he let out a muffled howl around the vine in his muzzle.
Vistan decided it was time for him to let himself go, and he began to stroke his length furiously. The mandragora had begun to milk the druid. Eventually, the druid would grow resistant to the chemicals in the nectar, but by then, it would be too late to do anything but endure milking after milking until the mandragora had its' fill.
From his vantage point, Vistan could see an ovoid shape traveling along the length of the vine that had buried itself deep inside the druid. The ratkin grinned; it would spread that tail-hole nice and wide. And it wasn't the only one that would be laid within him; a male that size would hold a good two dozen.
"Mmnnh, nice kitty, get ready for it... you're gonna breed like you've never done before..." Vistan breathed, watching the seed make it's way up the hollow inside of the vine. Each time the rippling of the vine pushed the seed farther along the vine, Vistan gave himself a stroke. It was all he could do to keep himself from letting himself go, but he wanted to wait to see the look in the druid's eyes when he felt the seed spread his anus.
Rhythmic rippling motions brought that seed ever closer, and finally, the end of it reached the point where the thick vine was buried. The druid's eyes went wide when he felt something bigger pushing, but he could do nothing at all but endure the slow, forceful spreading of his tailring, with no idea of what was really happening. His moans became a desperate howling, and at it's biggest, the vine and egg together had spread him a good two and a half inches wide. And then it was done; the seed slipped into his bowels.
Vistan gasped, and his cock began to jet little streamers of seed out onto the ground beneath him. He bit down on one of his thumbs to keep from crying out. It never failed to make him climax, seeing another helpless victim to the mandragora's attentions as they realize that they're going to be used to help the monstrous plant breed.
As the ratkin laid back, spent, he saw another seed begin to creep up the vine. He grinned to himself; for the next couple hours the mandragora would fill its' prey with those things. And when they were done, he'd collect the first reservoir of seed from the plant and make his way back home....
All told, two dozen seeds were laid in the druid's bowels, and the vine pulled out of him unceremoniously, leaving a gaping, aching hole that almost literally drooled slippery nectar. Vistan slipped out from under the cloak, knowing that there was no longer anything to fear, and padded over to the trapped druid.
Vistan grinned sadistically as he looked right into the druid's eyes. The male's body was growing accustomed to the nectar; it was obvious the druid was aware of him. Not for the first time since beginning to collect male seed for his teacher, Vistan was thankful that the plant wouldn't be finished with its' prey for a few days, more than enough time for the ratkin to get far away.
"You can hear me can't you... oh yes..." Vistan said to the druid, whose eyes narrowed furiously. "You remember that female you fucked weeks ago? That was me. You raped me, you stupid pussy. And now I get to return the favour." He sneered and leaned in to kiss the tip of the druid's nose, "I could kill you right now. Just have to cover your nose. Might be a mercy, you know."
The druid struggled a little more furious, if an almost imperceptible twitching of his encased body could be called 'twitching'. If looks could kill, Vistan thought, and then patted where he thought the druid's cheek would be. "Thank you for your donation to my master's collection. I'm sorry to tell you... the plant will make use of you. The seeds will sprout and use you for fertilizer after weeks of this. Just think of it, you poor kitty... day after day of unwilling, unwitting bliss... and a horrifying end."
Vistan grinned; he wasn't exactly sorry for scaring the druid like he was, and almost wished what he'd told him was true. He took out his knife and knelt in front of a large, fluid-filled pod at the side of the plant and cut it away. The plant jerked and then squeezed it's prey, eliciting a pained cry from the druid. "Oh do stop it, you little wimp. I was lying. If your elders had just said yes to Seren, this wouldn't have happened. Later, my dear. Thank you again."
Vistan leaned forward and kissed the druid's nose and then padded down the forest path, whistling as he left the helpless victim behind.
Vistan got home seven days later, and delivered the pod to Seren happily. Over a year's worth of harvesting, and he was finally, mercifully done. To celebrate, he went out for a night of drunken revelry, and returned to Seren's tower so intoxicated that he failed to notice something wrong when he was immediately summoned to his teacher's chamber.
Seren stood there with his white hair pulled into a ponytail, wearing his gray formal robes and badge of station within the mage's guild. His expression was grim and regretful, and he asked in a thin, reedy voice. "Vistan. What is the one rule. The one I have told you to keep up. Do... not... TALK to your victims."
Vistan blinked, set on edge by the tone in Seren's voice. He looked to the corner of the room, where there was a tall male half-elf dressed in a simple homespun brown robe. There was something about him that was familiar, though the ratkin couldn't quite place it. One of the new apprentices? No, it couldn't be, but who was it then, Vistan wondered.
"You spoke to your last... target. And told him. You mentioned me, Vistan. ME!" Seren's voice rose as he spoke, and by the end he was nearly yelling. He stabbed a finger in the air toward the half-elf in the brown robe, "That. Is your 'target'. He found me tonight. And he is understandably upset. The problem is.... I am left trying to figure out how to make amends."
The half-elf stepped into the light, and Vistan moaned. The pattern of tattoos on his face was unmistakable; they were identical in placement and nature to the ones on the feline that he'd left in the embrace of the mandragora trap. "Oh fu..."
"SHUT UP, Vistan!" Seren growled. He stepped up to the ratkin and made a single contemptuous gesture. Without any warning, Vistan found himself completely nude, devoid of all his belongings. "This... is what you have to do to make up for your mistake. Your... target... has decided that he wants only two things from you, Vistan. And if you run, he will kill you. And torch my tower."
Vistan rocked back on his heels, the knot of fear in his stomach solidifying at the sadistic grin on the half-elf's face. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew at least one of the things that the druid wanted. It was only seconds later that he felt the vines on his bare arms and legs as the mandragora struck.
"The first," the druid said in soft, dulcet tones, "Is for you to endure what I did." The druid's teeth drew into a feral grin, "The second, my dear... is that when it's done with you and the seeds are out of you.... you're coming back with me. And you're going to spend a season as a breeding female. You'll bear a litter for us. That will teach you to never defile our people by doing something like this ever again...."
Vistan let out a scream as he was pulled into the darkened corner of Seren's study to become the latest victim to the mandragora trap...