Wei Ping's bonds shifted her, turned her, spread her thighs apart with irresistible, creaking patience, and she sobbed as a branch pressed its sap slick tip against her panty covered mound. The fabric was already soaked through, partly with the black essence, and she knew, in the last clear corner of her mind, partly with something that was hers.
"Stop. Stop, please, I'm begging you, I don't want this, my body doesn't want this, why does it feel like... AAAHN!"
The branch tore her panty away with a snap.
Beside her, Zhao's trousers had been peeled down his thrashing legs, and his cock, hard against his will, obscene and straining, sprang free into the torchlight. The demonic sap had gotten there first, and the curse of it had swollen him rigid and aching.
"NO! No no no, not that, anything but..." The words died as a slender branch wound around the base of his cock like a ring, and then began to squeeze, and then began to stroke.
