Ivy's hungry plants
My luscious green lips curve into a wicked smile as I think about the latest batch of slaves I've acquired. Those poor, naive bankers thought they could resist my charms, but I proved them wrong. A single kiss, and they were putty in my hands.
Their eyes glazed over, their bodies trembled with desire, and their minds became clouded with lust. I could sense the hunger in them, the desperation to please me, to be with me. And I reveled in it. Oh, how I reveled in it.
But now, they've served their purpose. They helped me escape the law, and for that, I'm eternally grateful. However, their usefulness has come to an end. It's time to dispose of them, to drain them of their nutrients, and feed them to my beloved plants.
My green skin tingles with excitement as I think about the feast that awaits my darlings. They've been craving something juicy, something tender, something that will satiate their hunger. And I have just the thing.
The first one, a tall, lean man with a receding hairline, approaches me nervously. I can smell the fear emanating from him, the uncertainty in his steps. He knows what's coming, but he can't resist. My kiss has seen to that.
I run my fingers through his hair, my touch sending shivers down his spine. His eyes lock onto mine, and I can see the desperation in them. He wants to please me, to make me happy. And I will, oh, I will.
With a gentle smile, I lean in, my lips brushing against his. He moans, his body trembling with pleasure. I can feel his heart racing, his pulse pounding in his veins. And I know he's ready.
I take his hand, leading him to the giant pitcher plant that sits in the corner of my lair. Its leaves are a deep, emerald green, and its tendrils seem to writhe and twist, as if alive. I run my fingers over its petals, and it responds, its leaves unfurling, its mouth opening wide.
The man's eyes widen in terror as I push him forward, my hands on his shoulders. He tries to resist, but it's too late. My kiss has taken hold, and he's mine. Completely, utterly mine.
With a gentle nudge, I encourage him to climb into the plant's maw. He hesitates, his eyes locked on mine, begging for mercy. But I show none. I am Poison Ivy, the queen of the plant kingdom, and I will not be denied.
Slowly, he climbs into the plant, his body disappearing into its depths. I can hear his screams, muffled and distant, as the plant begins to feast. Its leaves quiver and shake, its tendrils twisting and turning, as it devours him whole.
I watch, mesmerized, as the plant consumes him, draining him of his nutrients, his cum, his sperm, his semen. And when it's done, I'll feed it again, and again, and again, until it's sated, until it's full.
The rest of the bankers follow, each one meeting the same fate as the first. They're disposable, mere playthings for me to use and discard. And when I'm done with them, they'll be nothing more than fertilizer, food for my beloved plants.
As I watch the last of them disappear into the plant's depths, I feel a sense of satisfaction, of contentment. My plants are happy, my hunger is sated, and I am ready to take on the world.
For I am Poison Ivy, the one who rules over the plant kingdom, the one who commands the very earth itself. And no one, no one, will ever dare to stand in my way again.
My lips curve into a wicked smile as I think about my next conquest, my next acquisition. The world is mine for the taking, and I will not be denied.