Content Warning:

 

Rosalie was acting strange.

The culprit was obvious. Had Zoey really thought nothing would come from the pink liquid that had been shoved down Rosalie’s throat? It had been a trap. Traps didn’t imply nothingness when they succeeded.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Zoey asked carefully, after the seventh time she caught Rosalie turning around and staring at her cock. She had effusively denied it each time, because Rosalie was Rosalie. She’d even denied that the liquid was having any effect, but the truth was plain as day.

An aphrodisiac. Rosalie had had a bucket of aphrodisiac injected into her stomach. And the effects were showing.

Which was a troubling realization. Zoey wouldn’t be taking advantage of the situation; that much was a given. Honestly, she didn’t think Rosalie would be yielding to the sensation, anyways. She was prideful like that. 

And repressed, more frankly. She’d never admit she wanted Zoey’s cock inside her. However many times she got distracted when she looked Zoey’s way, then had her eyes ensnared by the enormous, soft protrusion of girlmeat between her legs.

“Fine?” Rosalie asked, her cheeks flushed almost a crimson red—as they had been for the past ten minutes. “What do you mean? Please don’t tell me you’re still worried about the trap. Clearly, the liquid didn’t do anything. It would’ve shown by now.”

Uh-huh, Zoey wanted to say. Rosalie’s stalwart adherence to refusing to acknowledge that her skin and mind had been set aflame by a liquid influence would have been amusing—scratch that, was amusing, just concerning in equal measure—if not for how distracted she’d become. Seeing how they were working their way through a shard, where dangerous critters and traps lay at every corner, distractions were really not what they wanted, for safety’s sake. Zoey’s eyes certainly weren’t discerning enough to pick out suspicious features.

“Do we need to take a break? Let it wear off?”

“Let what wear off?”

“Rosalie. Please. Your face is red.” And you’re staring at my cock. Right now. As we speak.

Her hand fluttered to her face, as if to check the temperature of her cheeks, and she blinked. “No, it’s not.”

“Let’s take a break.”

“I’m fine. We’re continuing. But you can do as you want.” She wrenched her eyes from between Zoey’s legs, then turned forward and walked.

Why did this woman have to be so stubborn?

And the aphrodisiac was picking up potency. Rosalie’s steps grew less certain by the second; she seemed unsteady on her feet, which was unsettling to see, with how Rosalie normally moved like a predator, or if not that, a queen striding through her domain.

Zoey realized she needed to take executive command here. Rosalie’s brain wasn’t working how it should. She strode forward and grabbed Rosalie by the wrist. “We’re taking a break. I’m tired.”

“You’re tired?” she echoed.

Zoey needed to frame it as weakness stemming from her, not Rosalie. Rosalie would never admit to having anything resembling weakness. “Yes. I need to rest.”

Rosalie shook her head. “You’re trying to get me to stop. I’m not stupid. I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” She jerked her hand out of Zoey’s grip and continued forward.

Inflamed, Zoey jogged forward to spin around and intercept her—but she stumbled, foot snagging on a vine, and she sprawled forward onto the stone, elbows jarring as she landed.

Oh, crap.

The vine rippled to life, and barely a second passed before Zoey was wrapped in a slimy plant-embrace.

Except … rather than hanging her by her thighs in the air, the vines sucked her into the wall. The largest of the plants—what she had tripped over—encircled her by her stomach, pinning her into a mass of cold, lubricated plantlife.

But they made no move to shove down Zoey’s throat, or any of her other holes. Or even to molest her. They simply locked her in place, securing her arms, hands, and legs in various positions.

Rosalie stood there, blinking. Her reactions had been dulled by the aphrodisiac; she was reacting even slower than Zoey, by this point.

“You’re not supposed to go ahead of me,” Rosalie said. “That’s why.”

Zoey struggled against the vines, but if Rosalie couldn’t escape without help—despite having runes focused on empowering her body and reactions—then obviously Zoey found little success.

“Little help, here?” Zoey snapped. Why the hell weren’t they doing to her what they had to Rosalie?

Rosalie didn’t move. Zoey looked up from the green wrappings. Rosalie had an idle look on her face, and predictably, her eyes were locked to Zoey’s crotch, as they had consistently been for the past hour.

Zoey stilled, coming to a sudden understanding.

Step one: drug Rosalie.

Step two: capture Zoey.

Step three: see what happened.

Set them up, knock them down.

“Rosalie,” Zoey said carefully. “I need help.”

“Huh?” Rosalie replied idly. “You do? Why?” Her eyes didn’t move from her crotch. Zoey could see the slickness between her thighs.

“Please help me,” she said slowly. “I’m stuck, and you need to cut me out.”

Rosalie approached. Her eyes didn’t drift up to meet Zoey’s. Zoey’s stomach continued to sink.

Rather than moving to help her, Rosalie got down on her knees.

Zoey’s body reacted on its own. Having the worshiping gaze of a girl she’d been constantly fantasizing over locked to her cock didn’t give her much choice. Biological reactions didn’t care for context. Her aching girth didn’t care Rosalie wasn’t in her right mind. It saw a gorgeous girl staring with lust, and responded.

All fourteen inches expanded outward, and Rosalie stared in awe. Zoey saw the way her knees rubbed together, the way she lifted up and squirmed in her knelt-over position, idly trying to satisfy the burning heat between her legs. Zoey could imagine the need coursing through her; she’d been feeling that constantly since her strange transmigration through worlds, and Zoey wasn’t even egged on by an aphrodisiac.

“Why is it so big?” Rosalie asked. “And on a girl … why does a girl have such a giant cock between her legs?”

That subject hadn’t been brought up yet. Zoey had half assumed it must be normal in this world. But by the wonder in her voice, maybe not. Maybe Rosalie had simply had time to come to terms with the strange occurrence; she had been conscious for longer than Zoey in that coffin they’d shared. Maybe she had determined not to bring it up, to be considerate. Who knew?

“Rosalie.” This time, her name didn’t even pierce through the fugue. Zoey tried again. “Rosalie. Rosie.”

The nickname did the trick, and it even set the girl blinking. “Only my friends call me that,” she said absently. “I guess you can. I think I’d like to be your friend, when you have something like this between your legs.”

Rosalie reached out, but Zoey preempted her. “Don’t touch it.”

Rosalie paused. “You don’t want me to?”

“No.” Yes. A thousand times yes. But she wouldn’t give permission for Rosalie to go against her own right-mind; she’d made it clear she didn’t want to be involved with Zoey, and for all that her aching sex wanted Rosalie to play with it, Zoey wasn’t some savage. She cared much more about her partner’s mental well-being.

However much the way her cock jumping in rhythmic pulses would suggest otherwise, or the way Zoey couldn’t quite prevent her hips from wiggling side to side in anticipation.

“But …” Rosalie started, staring down. She leaned forward and opened her mouth, and it took everything Zoey had to not jerk her hips forward, to thrust her cock into the wet, open hole. Rosalie breathed hot, humid air onto her cock head, and the sensation was so incredible she started leaking precum. “I think … I think I’d like to, though.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Pretty sure I do,” Rosalie said. Her voice had affected a permanent idleness. Nothing she said came with anything less than with a dreamlike haze. Her lips hovered an inch away from Zoey’s cock. “Please?” she whispered, brushing hot air against Zoey’s member. “I can … I can make you feel good.”

“No.” She said it as firmly as she could. “I don’t want that.” It was the most blatant lie to ever escape her lips, and she hadn’t been some goody-two-shoes teenager, growing up. But maybe the refusal would save Rosalie from her own mistakes, from the altered state of mind she operated under.

Rosalie hesitated. Under any rational state, the words would have stopped Rosalie’s advances in their tracks.

But she was too far gone.

“How far do you think I can get?” Rosalie asked. “It’ll reach to my stomach if I go all the way down, won’t it? And when you cum, it’ll go straight in. Wow … I really want to see what that feels like.”

“Rosie,” Zoey said, trying the nickname a second time to grab her attention. It did little, so she tried again. Because Rosalie was leaning forward. “Rosie, don’t—”

Then her lips pressed into Zoey’s cock in a gentle kiss, and her head carried forward even further, splitting her plush lips open. A soft, warm, wet heat enveloped Zoey’s cock.

She’d done it. 

That was Rosalie’s wet tongue pressing on the lower half of Zoey’s cock.

Zoey’s head fell back as a groan escaped her, eyes fluttering closed.

Rosalie pushed her head further, and Zoey’s cock hit the back of her throat. Her tongue stroked playfully at the bottom of her shaft. 

“Fuck,” Zoey said. “You really shouldn’t … Rosie, this isn’t …”

Rosalie sucked, applying pressure, and Zoey’s protests were cut off with a moan. Rosalie pulled her head back, and Zoey’s hips bucked forward in anger, that she’d been suddenly deprived of her warm hole.

“You taste amazing,” Rosalie said breathlessly. “Everything I thought it would be.” She reached out and grabbed Zoey’s shaft, then slapped her face with the rod of girlmeat. Zoey sucked in a breath of air, and Rosalie grinned up at her. There was something wild in her eyes. Not a vacancy, like before, but as if the aphrodisiac had only brought her desires to the forefront, had stripped her inhibitions away, and now here Rosalie was, in her true, released nature. In fact, she sounded more lucid now than she had for the past hour. “I’ve always preferred girls, and you’re so my type … but the cock?” Rosalie ran a tongue across her length. The stroking of soft velvet lips was agony, and bliss. “Well. It’s everything I didn’t know I wanted.”

“R-Rosie,” Zoey said. “Don’t, don’t—”

“Oh, quiet, you. Your mana is running low, and I’m helping you stock up. Nothing more. Now … let’s find an answer to that question.”

Rosalie re-enveloped her cock with her mouth, and this time, instead of stopping when Zoey’s cock reached the back of her throat, she pushed forward, forcing Zoey’s member to bend, to accommodate entry. Then, bumping into the back of her mouth, into hot, slippery flesh, hitting that tight upper-seal.

Zoey’s hips moved by themselves. She shoved herself forward, cock piercing that tight ring and sliding into the long, spit-lubricated shaft of Rosalie’s throat. She whined in satisfaction, hips grinding side to side in pleasure. In Rosie’s throat. I’m in her throat.

‘How far do you think I can go?’ she had said. Zoey guessed they were finding that out together.

Rosalie reached out and grabbed Zoey’s ass, for purpose of leverage. She wiggled her head back and forth as she tried to get the huge blockage of girlmeat down deeper, further toward her stomach. Zoey wished she could help. Rosalie was really giving it her best effort, and Zoey would love to see if she could succeed. But her hands were—

The vines at her wrists released, freeing her arms.

Zoey didn’t even think about it. Her hands went to Rosalie’s platinum blonde hair, and she shoved her head down with all her strength.

Another two inches slid down Rosalie’s throat. Rosalie choked, throat spasming as she coughed and hacked at the unnatural entry. A bit of teeth scraped against skin, but Zoey didn’t mind. 

Rosalie didn’t pull back at the sudden force. Instead, the grip at Zoey’s ass grew stronger, and the failure—the embarrassment of choking—spurred Rosalie on. She shoved, and made it another inch down.

Only halfway. For anyone but Zoey, Rosalie would have her nose buried in the soft hair of her partner’s pubic hair. But for Zoey, she had so much further to go.

They worked together. Rosalie’s throat wasn’t conditioned for this, that much was obvious. And enthusiasm could only go so far. But combined with Zoey’s grunting, bucking efforts, the press of her hands into Rosalie’s soft, white-blonde hair, and Rosalie’s own gripping of Zoey’s ass and the shoving-down of her head, it finally happened.

Rosalie’s nose buried into Zoey’s pelvis..

More than the sensation, the sight of Rosalie’s pretty, watering, ice-blue eyes blinking up at Zoey in supreme satisfaction was what made her cock spasm in unexpected pleasure. The orgasm appeared all at once, nothing like the slow-build before. Zoey cried out in half-pain, half-pleasure as her girth spasmed in Rosalie’s throat. 

Zoey forced her eyes not to close—forced herself to hold eye contact with the pretty girl who had her nose buried in her pubic hair—while her cock erupted hot seed directly into her stomach. At the first spurt, Rosalie’s throat contracted and shivered, and her entire body heaved at the alien sensation of having hot fluid injected down fourteen inches of her throat. Her head drifted sideways as she became dizzy, but Zoey helped her out: she slammed Rosalie's head back down, reinstating the tight press of nose-into-crotch right as the second spurt erupted into her stomach.

Zoey stuffed Rosalie’s stomach full of life-giving white spunk, even as Rosalie’s eyes fluttered from lack of oxygen. She didn’t make an effort to pull back, despite starting to lose consciousness.

She’d be fine. Zoey kept going. Kept emptying herself. Rosalie had worked hard for this, and she deserved every drop. If she passed out, that was fine. Zoey wouldn’t stop until she’d been expended.

And eventually, she was.

The sensation of fourteen inches of cock sliding up and out of Rosalie’s throat was the best thing she’d ever felt, and the noise—the pop of cockhead separating from Rosalie’s lips—was the best sound she’d ever heard. A day of firsts for both of them.

Rosalie collapsed sideways, only half—a quarter—conscious from a lack of air. She gasped and choked as she lay on the floor, hacking out white, sticky seed, small portions of the buckets of semen Zoey had emptied into her, which her stomach couldn’t accommodate.

Finally, Rosie mumbled, “That was amazing …”

Then passed out.

---

When Rosalie stirred to consciousness, the aphrodisiac had worn off. Zoey was still hanging from the wall.

Rosalie pushed herself to a sitting position, confusion plain on her face as she blinked and took in her surroundings. She looked at the spit-soaked, now-soft member between Zoey’s legs, then how she still hung from the wall. Zoey waited quietly for her reaction. Now that the mind-erasing pleasure had racked through her body and passed, Zoey had come to terms with the situation. What had happened. That despite Zoey’s best efforts, Rosalie had been taken over by a chemical influence and done something she wouldn’t have otherwise. 

How would she handle that? Zoey wished she could have done more to prevent the situation, for all the bliss it had provided. She wished when the vines had released her arms, she hadn’t given in to the euphoria of the moment. Shame crawled in her stomach.

The distraught expression was only to be expected.

“Are you okay?” Zoey asked gently.

“Me? Am I okay? Oh my gods, what did I do to you? Zoey—”

“It’s fine,” Zoey said. 

“Fine? I—I—”

“You didn’t do anything to me,” Zoey said firmly. “I was hoping to snap you out of it. That’s why I said to stop. On my side, I’m perfectly happy with what happened.”

Rosalie reeled back. She blinked several times. 

“Are you okay?” Zoey repeated.

Rosalie’s brow furrowed down. “I’m—you’re really fine? I didn’t—?”

“No.”

Her body sagged in relief. She staggered to her feet. “Let’s get you out of there. I should have—I should have listened to you. To stop, take a break. Why am I so stubborn?” 

Despite having that exact thought, Zoey chose to reassure her. “You weren’t in your right mind. I’m sorry that happened to you. And I’m sorry I joined in.”

“It’s fine. I—” Rosalie paused, then scorched red. “Worse things could’ve happened,” she settled on. “Don’t … be upset. I’m not.”

So maybe neither of them were too unhappy about what had happened. Like Rosalie’s had a moment earlier, Zoey’s shoulders sagged in relief.

“I can’t believe I got all the way down,” Rosalie said.

Zoey blinked, and Rosalie flushed again—even though her previous hadn’t yet settled.

“I mean, I’m just saying. fourteen inches! Gods, have you seen that thing?” Rosalie wasn’t a person who rambled, but here she was, rambling. She rubbed at her throat. “Can’t believe it even fit. It’s like, the size of my fist. That pink liquid must have been more than an aphrodisiac. It had to have helped, somehow." Rosalie's hand went to her stomach. "And I’m so full … you shot so much into me, I can feel it sloshing around.”

Rosalie’s easily offered words did something to stir Zoey’s dormant cock, regardless of how it had just been sucked dry. “Well. You worked for it, so. Got everything you deserved.”

Rosalie stared at her.

“You’re disgusting,” she said. 

Zoey laughed.

Rosalie huffed, and a hint of a smile quirked her lips. She got to work peeling Zoey from the wall. The vines yielded with surprising ease.