53. Whoops
You sit in silence for some time after that, not sure if you should leave or if you should stay. So you do nothing, and let time take the choice out of your hands. Mercy seems content to stay sat in the small clearing, surrounded by wood chunks that are, even now, slowly falling into dust and ash.
You cast your eyes around for anything, anything to distract yourself. Mercy's eyes seem to have closed and her breathing is slow, but you're not sure if she's actually somehow sleeping or is simply giving you an out.
One you're unwilling to take.
It's clear that you've hurt her, if unintentionally, but you're not sure what to do about it. You're still sure that you can do this, create the daemonic tree, and give her some level of freedom from lusts being artificially forced into her brain. You wrack your thoughts, but you're not sure there's a magical solution to her hurt. However accidentally, you've breached her trust. You just have to keep trying and hope that eventually you'll regain it.
You think back over her character sheet, looking for anything you may have missed. With just the information on there, you wouldn't be sure that a daemon tree would have fixed it. You were under the impression that her mana pool could be refilled by sex or being in her tree in some way, and that both would fill the same mana pool, and while you can't rule that out her reaction to your failure and the wording of the feats in question make it possible that she has multiple mana pools. If that was the case then having a demonic tree would be... tangentially helpful at best.
From what she's said in the past, about trees rejecting her and dying, having a tree to fill her dryad half's mana pool, all that would do would let her be less dependent on her succubus half's mana and it's mind bending effect. An improvement, to be sure, but not a fix. Not what you promised.
You look around for any inspiration, eventually settling on the bulbous, jagged topped tree in front of you. Without prompting, your perception starts to fill in details.
The timer ticks up as you watch.
“M- Mercy?” Your voice cracks as you break the silence.
Her eyes fly open with an audible snik, but she remains silent.
“Did you... definitely use demon mana for your spell?”
She unwinds herself, blinking owlishly at you, but still doesn't talk.
“Only... Only apparently we've made a Lust Riddled Husk. And not to hurry you or anything, but it's only got about forty seconds till it finishes, whatever that means.”
You're very proud of how little your voice wavers.
Mercy stays, statue still, staring at you for an uncomfortable number of those forty seconds, before pivoting around to glare at the trunk.
“That shouldn't be...” she murmurs.
You recall the beginning of her ritual, and wince.
“Lust mana wouldn't have... infected it, if you happened to slightly lose control of one of those rune things, and then, you know, get distracted by me while trying to stabilise it, would it?”
Mercy closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths. Finally, she exhales and fixes you with a piercing gaze. You've never felt so small.
“That would do it, yes. You are rather distracting.”
The tree trunk shudders.
“Do you know what's going to happen?”
She shakes her head. “Not a clue. I've never even heard of 'Husks' before. I would recommend you stand back somewhat.”
You stand and step up next to her. She glares at you with genuine venom.
“Gods be damned Red, this is no time for heroics! It's my magic in that thing, this could well be far beyond you!”
You look at her in silence, and then turn your gaze back to the Husk. You can feel your own mana start to stir, minor though it is, as you begin to build up for a fight. You see Mercy settle into some sort of martial stance at your side, her hands raised like a pugilist.
The Husk gives another shudder, a heave like the dead wood is retching.
“Last chance Red. Get out of here.”
You shake your head, a marginal shift from left to right and back. Mercy snorts, and some of the venom leaves her voice.
“Alright then.”
And finally, almost softly, she whispers. “On our heads be it.”
The Husk twists, a violent snapping motion as if an invisible giant had gripped the crown and broke it, and then unfolds. It blooms, huge black petals shot through with pink pushing up through the middle and shouldering the remnants of the trunk aside. Within seconds, a six foot wide flower sits on a bed of white mulch. It form a huge dome, hundreds of fine fleshlike petals resting on nothing but each other. They shift and sway, releasing a delicate fragrance.
Both of you relax, marginally.
“Huh.”
You don't get a chance to say anything else however, as the petals contract. Some wither, others twist, leaving the bone white stump visible.
The stump is some five foot across and a foot tall. Four petals have widened and shortened, forming a kind of skirt that lies against the stump itself, folded over from the hollow interior. Dozens of petals have shrunk and... hardened into a row of tooth-like protrusions around the rim. In the centre of the hollow, three thick green vines have sprouted, each one tipped with a fleshy bulb the same colour as the petals. The rest of the stump is filled with a mat of writhing, dark green vines.
You know this despite not being able to see into the flower, because several of the vines hit you at speeds that you want to say were close to Mach-1 and flung you a dozen feet.
You skid to a stop near the entrance of the cave
You try to gasp in pain, but that just hurts. You end up producing a kind of long whine.
The pain fades to manageable levels before too long, so long as you don't move much, but you find yourself unwilling to move, captivated by the site in front of you.
Mercy has barely moved from her stance, but for one hand that is now flung out towards the stump creature. A gentle green glow has formed a wall between them, drifting from Mercy's outstretched hand. She turns her head the bare minimum enough to catch you with the corner of her eye without looking away from the vines that are slowly pressing against the glow.
“You alright there Red?”
“Been better.” you manage.
“Ribs?”
“Ribs.”
“I'd come fix you up but I'm a little busy.”
“No worries.”
For several seconds the only sound is the soft, wet slapping of vines against magic shield.
“I think one of the goblins was making a healing poultice?”
“Really?” you ask, keeping your voice light.
Mercy is silent for several more seconds.
“You're not gonna leave until I drop this shield and you watch me get fucked by the sex bush are you?”
“Nope.”
“What If I asked real nice?”
“Then I'd go. You going to?”
“Fuck no. I can use nature mana to train this guy without giving you a show.”
With that, Mercy jerks her hand upwards, severing the link to the shield.
The vines don't surge forward immediately. Instead they go still, as if the shield were still there. Slowly, a handful of the thinner tendrils creep forwards. Mercy steps forwards to meet them, allowing one to gently wrap around her arm and another to flick at her legs.
She turns and says one last thing as the vines begin to twist around her limbs.
“Best to keep the others out until I have him trained. Just in case.”
You nod, entranced, as one of the thicker vines peeks out of the stump. When non of them are torn or burnt it creeps forwards further, gently bumping against Mercy's back as she keeps her eyes on you. There's a kind of challenge there.
A wicked idea forms in your mind. You resist while examining the vines.
The thinner vines are retracting now, as more, thicker vines emerge. They form a reclined crucifix for Mercy to lie on, her arms atop the cross vines and her feat supported by another.
Resist the urge resist the urge resist the – ah fuck it
Although it takes you a minute with your ribs, you manage to rotate so you're lying across the doorway. Mercy has been staring at you the entire time. Staring you down. Her nipples are are far more pointed than the air of the cave would warrant. It's almost as if she's reading your mind.
She licks her lips. Her skin fluctuates and the plant trembles.
“Her Mercy?” You call, as loudly as you can.
Still she stares you down. Fighting to keep her dyad control.
You flex, and let your cock free. Her eyes jump to it, and back.
“I can still leave, if you want.”
“N-no. No, I have this under control.”
You grin at her. Sapphire, who has been stood just outside the cave since you sent the girls away, enters at your beckoning.
“I've sent Feather's to get the healing salve. She should be back in a moment. Amanda went with her.”
“Thank you.”
Sapphire looks around the cavern, taking everything in at once. Then she lowers her voice to a breath. “Are we teaching uppit- sorry, Mercy, a lesson?”
You let her slip up go. “Just a small one. I have my suspicions that Mercy isn't as big a fan of control as she seems to think.”
Sapphire snorts. A small plume of smoke drifts from her nostrils, a reminder of your bond. “You think? Sorry sir, but her nature is fighting her wants every step of the way.”
She gives you a sly smile. “If you wanted a hand teaching her a lesson then I'm sure I could think of something.”
You eye your apparently not entirely submissive kobold for a second or two. “Just help me make her lose control for now, I think.”
Sapphire nods, and walks up to your face. If you wanted, you could probably fit her entire head in your mouth. The size difference between you, so small when she first arrived, is now all too obvious. She puts a clawed hand on your chin and guides you into a gentle kiss. Your tongues dance between your mouths.
Your cock stirs and, even as your ribs give a creak of protest, you lift and arm up to begin undoing her straps.
As buckles loosen and leather slides over leather, you feel another set of hands, larger hands, coated in a cool substance, start to slide over your chest. You break your kiss to find Amanda knelt next to you with a clay pot of off white cream.
Instantly the pain lessens where she has touched, a silky chill spreading through your bones and numbing the pain. You see a small countdown appear. Apparently, this cream takes three minutes to heal a crippling wound. Not bad at all, especially for a goblin.
As soon as the pain drops to a manageable amount, you roll onto your back, revealing Feathers stood next to Amanda. As you roll, Feathers begins to disrobe herself, furs falling to the floor and Amanda takes a step back, kneeling a few feet away.
You twist to look at Mercy. She's suspended above the pit of writhing vines, which are looking distinctly more agitated than they did a minute ago. Her skin is a rolling pattern or green and the lightest of pinks. Where the pink passes, the tendrils shudder and twitch. Still, she stares at you, biting her lip.
You give her a moment, a last moment, to stop what you all know is coming.
She doesn't.
Discord (Today we talked about food and I removed seven copies of one account): https://discord.gg/MFP9ejQ3gK
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Also, for those interested, I did another art:
https://www.patreon.com/posts/48744394
It's the sex bush, it's free, it's really low quality.