Ivy had a plan so foolproof it couldn't possibly fail.

Mom had always warned her of the depravity of humans, and it was something she finally planned to take advantage of.

"Please," Ivy called out, fake panic lacing her voice. "Is anybody there? I need help!"

To an outside observer, Ivy's positioning would be downright comical, if not for just how compromising it was. Ivy had, from their perspective, been caught in a stroke of truly divine misfortune. After having climbed through a rough patch of forest, over and between felled logs, she'd somehow managed to dislodge one such tree from its stacked position with another -- and ended up pinned, by the waist, safely between.

(It had been a pain in the ass to arrange … and better have been worth the effort.)

Now, perilously trapped with only enough mobility to wiggle her butt around (something she'd be using as a weapon, if her savior found themselves unfortunately principled), Ivy called out frantically for help, knowing eventually she'd be heard.

She'd dressed appropriately for the occasion, of course. She was wearing her black stockings, the ones that squeezed tight enough to leave a small bulge of her thighs overhanging, and her lacy black underwear, the ones easy to tear away. And before getting herself stuck, she made sure her skirt had ridden up: now, bent over, it rested on the downward sloping shelf Ivy's lower back made, not an inch of clothing to hide her panties, ass, or exposed muffin-topped thighs.

Like she said, a comically compromised position. Carefully so.

Picking the location had been tricky, too. Ivy knew humans -- depraved as their general society was famed to be -- still had laws in place for the kind of thing Ivy was trying to encourage, and thus would be dissuaded from acting if Ivy had gotten so-called stuck too close to the main trail, where they might be discovered by other passersby. So instead she'd wandered out of sight, around some cover, and just to the edge of hearing, where her cries for help would attract prey to a quiet, private place.

One where Ivy was oh so terribly stuck.

They'd be able to do anything they wanted to her … and Ivy couldn't stop them. Or even be able to see their face. They'd have free reign with her body, be able to do whatever naughty thing they wanted, and she'd never have a clue who it had been.

A foolproof plan. One that couldn't fail.

That better not fail.

"Please?" Ivy called out. "Is anyone there?"

Even if she got unlucky and somebody not willing to take advantage of her came around, Ivy had a few tools in her back pocket. She was a succubus, after all.

(Though she'd be offended if her exposed ass wasn't enough … considering her body was the one thing she felt confident in. Especially with how depraved humans allegedly were, it'd certainly be a blow to her ego.)

"Hello?" a voice finally called out from the distance, in the direction of the trail.

The excitement at her potential rescue wasn't feigned. Ivy almost stuttered over herself. "Over here! This way! Please, help! Oh, thank the gods, I thought I'd never be heard."

"Hold -- hold on! I'm on my way, keep talking."

The voice was feminine, but that wasn't a show-stopper -- Ivy had chosen the southern reaches of Alatria for a very specific reason: for whatever reason, evolutionary or magical, nearly half the women here had cocks.

Which, uh, was awesome? The best of both worlds, in Ivy's eyes, and not something she'd ever seen in the demonlands. Something she was intensely interested in exploring.

But even if her savior didn't have a cock, things could work out. Maybe she'd have to use her succubus skills to encourage her, but any stimulation was stimulation, at this point. Cock, tongue, fingers -- all sounded great. Ivy would take what she could get. 

Even some general rubbing would have her expended faster than she'd be comfortable admitting, since, with perhaps the most unfair class trait ever, succubi couldn't get themselves off -- they needed a partner. So after a year with no action, Ivy was more than a little frustrated. More like desperate and squirming at even the thought of relief.

"Over here," Ivy called out again. She rubbed her thighs together in frustrated anticipation -- but as stated, it did little to relieve her. 

The crunching of leaves announced the arrival of her savior.

Who stopped abruptly upon seeing her. Or more accurately, Ivy suspected, upon seeing her ass thrust in the air, at seeing the pose she was in.

"Oh my gods --" the woman gasped.

Ivy smirked, though her savior couldn't see it. That'd been the reaction she'd hoped for. She wiggled her ass. "Please help, I can't get out. It's been hours."

No response, which was also good news.

"Hello?” Ivy said. “Can you come around? I can't see you."

Not an actual request -- just an explicit reminder, in case her savior's (hopefully faltering) brain hadn't pieced together the implications of Ivy's situation: that they had totally anonymity in their actions.

"R-Right," her savior said. "Sure. I'll come around, one second."

What?!

"I was so worried," Ivy said desperately. "Anything could have happened, you know?"

"I'll get you out in no time, don't even worry."

No! What? Why!

Because of how inexperienced a succubus Ivy was, she only had a few skills to work with, and only one for this specific situation. She activated it: [Lustful Aura]. Not the most effective of aphrodisiacs, but it might tip the scale.

She really hoped it did. 

Ivy wiggled her ass right as the skill went through, and much less subtly this time.

Her savior, again, stopped in her tracks.

Ivy held her breath, not daring to say the wrong thing. Surely that was enough?

Her savior started walking again.

Maybe toward her exposed -- ?

Then vaulted over the fallen logs and slouched down into her field of vision.

"Hey," the flush-faced gorgeous blonde said. "You're safe now, don't worry."

Ivy slumped in defeat.

Saw the bulge in the blonde’s pants.

Started sobbing. 

 

---

 

"That's a crazy spot of misfortune," Cara said.

"I've never been so unlucky in my life," Ivy said miserably. "So much could have happened." So much amazing stuff … and not a bit had.

Cara squeezed her shoulder, because Ivy had apparently found the one empathetic, gentlemanly human in existence. Or maybe Mom’s stories weren’t quite accurate.

"Hey,” Cara said. “Nothing did. Don't even think about it."

"I'm trying not to." With so little success …

"That was quite the tangle you found yourself in. How'd it even happen?"

Meticulously. It had happened meticulously. "Fast enough I can't remember."

"That's how life comes at you, sometimes."

Ivy wished something was coming at her. Preferably Cara, twenty minutes ago. Maybe a couple times in a row – or a dozen. Till she couldn’t walk or see straight.

She sighed despondently.

Cara sympathetically squeezed her shoulder, again. "So, where you headed? Don't often see non-adventurers taking this path. It's dangerous, you know, and not for the reasons you experienced."

"It is?" She hadn’t known. "I'm not from around here. Headed north. This trail’s infested?"

"Tons of monsters. Well, not tons – but enough to be marked not safe for civilians.”

Ivy wasn’t a civilian, per se – she could handle herself. But no adventurer, either. [Succubus] wasn’t a class suited for combat.

“You headed up to Hekite, then?" Cara asked.

"Yeah." Not in any particular rush, but Hekite, the capital of Alatria, had been her eventual goal. “I am.”

"I could accompany you, if you want? Headed there too."

Ivy perked up.

Hm … a whole day’s travel together? Surely seeing Ivy so compromised had at least seeded a few inappropriate thoughts. She’d worn her lacy underwear, for the gods’ sakes! It had to have done something.

So maybe she could turn this one around.

(Ivy was an expert at fooling herself. She’d had the same thought about fifty times in the past year, and was in as much of a sex-drought as ever.)

But if there was ever a target to stick it out for …

It was Cara. Because she was absolutely gorgeous, with those curly blonde locks framing her face and those warm ocean blue eyes. And perfectly in shape, like most adventurers. Even through the very practical, not-revealing armor she was wearing, Ivy could make out her sculpted arms, and therefore had plenty of implications on how the rest of her body looked. 

And such a huge bulge in her pants.

At the reminder, Ivy almost stomped her feet. She needed something inside her, something big and throbbing and hot, so badly she wanted to throw a tantrum. Cara would have been so perfect.

“Only if you’re offering …” Ivy said.