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Seeing how she and Camille had fled the sparring yard in full gear, they still had their weapons with them. Natalie had set her hammer in front of the door to help fend off invaders. Camille, though, had leaned her staff against the corner of the sink, within arm's reach. She grabbed it now, leveling it toward Natalie, happy to take the lead.

A familiar tingling to Natalie's sixth sense announced the formation of Camille's spell. Though Natalie should have expected it, the vines that appeared beneath her feet caught her off guard—she tried to step away, but the thick green mass whipped out and slithered around an ankle, slamming her foot back into the floor. A different one grabbed her other foot. Before she knew it, both legs were anchored firmly in place. Several hard yanks didn't make their grip budge. It was a rooting spell, at its core; even Natalie couldn't break free.

"Those things are seriously annoying," Natalie said, eying the slippery green loops as they encircled her. "Dunno if I've mentioned that." As Camille's classmate, she'd been on the receiving end of the spell more than once. Though never in this particular way.

"Snares are awful, I know," Camille agreed with a laugh. "Especially for fighters." She grinned. "Maybe they can … say sorry to you, today. You might not hate them so much."

The vines continued to slither around her, entombing Natalie's shins and slowly advancing upward. Her heart started to gallop as they encroached higher and higher. She was familiar with the spell, but it had always stayed well beneath her knees. A simple root. They'd never gone this far. Onto her thighs. Then higher still.

"I didn't know you had this kind of control over them," Natalie said, trying to resist her instinctive urge to struggle—and only half succeeding.

The vines slipped under her uniform jacket, then wiggled down into her skirt. She shivered as slimy green flesh slid across her skin. Had they always been this slippery? She didn't think so. Though it would certainly help with … other activities. At the same time, the slimy residue might be annoying, considering she had still had class the rest of the day; it was getting all over her and her uniform.

Then again, that was where the cleansing liquid would come in handy. The unsung hero of yesterday's loot.

"It took some practice," Camille admitted. "Spells don't have that much give to them. They can be stubborn to change." Her brow scrunched down, then she made small adjustments with her staff, which she still had pointed at Natalie. Guiding the spell. "And usually they're not this responsive. I must be getting better." She sounded vaguely confused.

A thick rope wiggled its head in between her thighs, forcing through and popping out the other side. It slithered a loop around her left leg's upper thigh and squeezed hard. Another followed, securing her right leg. The contact against her sensitive areas extracted a groan from her.

Despite the quickly advancing distraction, her thoughts latched to what Camille had said. She was finding it easier to control her vines? Enough that she even sounded confused about it?

Was that Natalie's fault? Was her lust-based class passively helping the encounter along? It had done that before, but only with her spells. None of her teammates had bumped into an interaction like that.

Then again, none of her classmates had tried to fuck her using their skills. None of them had abilities that could—otherwise Jordan probably would have tried.

Though, thinking it over, maybe Ana had spells that could be used that way. How did those black shadow tentacles of hers work? Did they have physical substance like Camille's vines?

Either way, this was a first. Would all classes react to Natalie's when used for inappropriate reasons? Did that mean anything, practically speaking? Could it be used, somehow?

Or had Camille really just improved her control, and Natalie was overthinking this?

A vine snuck up Natalie's stomach, rubbing its slippery body across her stomach, then slipped underneath her bra. It coiled around her breast and squeezed. Her hand shot to her chest, and she clutched the writhing, constricting mass through her uniform jacket and undershirt, shivering as she was assaulted. Natalie's brief curiosity over the situation disappeared, her brain occupied with other matters.

Camille gestured upward with her staff, and two vines roughly encircled her wrists, then scurried upward, dragging her arms along with them. The power behind the spell wasn't anything to discount: it was a spell built entirely to disable a person. While it couldn't harm her, even if Natalie struggled, it would take a while to break free. That was the whole point.

Why did that get her heart racing? That she was at Camille's mercy?

The two securing vines settled above her head, twisting around each other and going still, their goal accomplished. Natalie was left with both hands stretched above her, and a quick struggle indicated that, indeed, she was stuck this way whether she wanted it or not. All four limbs locked down—her movement almost entirely disabled.

At the realization, her cock throbbed. Vines writhed beneath her shirt, slippery appendages groping all across her body, making her shudder. Breathy groans escaped her, growing in intensity. The plant life stayed pointedly away from her lower half, besides the two hugging her thighs, brushing against her more by accident than with any explicit intent. Was that Camille's goal? Was she waiting before she really got to it? She could only assume so.

"I thought … this was a collaborative practice session," Natalie said, unable to stop herself from squirming in the plant life's grip, despite the action's futility. "Can't help but notice that you're just having your way with me."

Despite the situation—being tied up and very much on the receiving end—Natalie wasn't especially perturbed. While being at Camille's mercy was exciting, she wasn't a blushing mess like … well, previous events, the day prior. It took a lot to break her composure, as had happened with Ana. Like swapping bodies and having her own cock slapped onto her face. Maybe she had found a new appreciation for submissive tendencies, but it definitely wasn't her default.

"We'll get to that," Camille said. "First, we're playing with my vines. You'll have to wait your turn. I know you've been waiting to try them, anyway, you pervert."

Her staff pointed down, and finally, the first vine slipped into her underwear, no longer just brushing against her. Natalie's hips bucked as the lubricated appendage ground into her, burying around the restrictive space. The plants struggled to move around in the tight space, with all of Natalie's clothing still on.

Natalie's eyes caught the mirror, briefly, and it was a lewd sight, seeing herself strung up by green ropes, wiggling masses exploring her body—skirt bulging out as the most adventurous played around between her legs.

Then two more vines started teasing at the edges of her waistband, and Camille murmured, "Well, then. Let's let her out to play, yeah? You've got no idea how long I've been waiting."

Gesturing with her staff, the two vines yanked, and Natalie's skirt and panties jerked down to her knees. Eight throbbing inches of girlcock popped free, bobbing as it settled—which Camille's brown eyes tracked, going wide as she took in Natalie's weapon.

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