Radley's Labyrinth for Horny Monsters by Annabelle Hawthorne (highly recommended books .txt) 📕

the lobby, standing aside as the soft click of heels approached. “What better way to see what all we do here than to pair her up with the woman who does everything? You are working too hard, Beth, and I want the two of you to work together from now on. Give her the little tasks, keep yourself from burning out. You have a bright future here, and I want to make sure you still have a shot at it.”

The intern walked in the room. The first thing that Beth noticed about her was that she was just a bit over five feet tall. Her black hair was swept back into a tight ponytail, and she wore a simple business suit with a pair of black glasses that made her look more like a sexy librarian than a law intern. She held a small leather briefcase in front of her, her red lips twisted into a playful smile.

“My name is Lily,” she said, holding out her hand for Beth to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The sun was nearing its zenith, scattering shadows across the path in front of Mike. The last time he had walked along here, he had been held at wand-point, the witch behind him ready to vaporize him at a moment’s notice. He had led her on with the promise of something called a grimoire, a magical book that Sarah thought he had gotten ahold of. He had asked Naia about it, wondering if she had any knowledge of this magical book that Sarah had ranted about. The nymph had told him no, then had resumed giving him a hand job in the tub.

Sex. A month ago, the thought had been foreign to him. Even the idea of masturbating had wracked him with fear and guilt, but now sex was as normal as eating. Had he swung from one extreme to another? Was it now an addiction, having sex with the monsters in his house? He wondered what would happen if he decided to go without it, if he would fall apart as a human being, devolving into a lust-filled creature willing to fuck anything.

No. It was something else. He felt it inside his body, a peace that permeated his core. The idea of sex as a luxury, no different from wine or cigarettes, was wrong. Sex was a means of expressing affection. It was love, joy, trust—all those things. He didn’t need it to survive, didn’t crave it as a means of holding power. The sex he had with all these women was an expression of their bonds, something that brought them closer. Yet, because it was with so many different people, it was frowned upon, anathema to a functional society. Somewhere along the way, mankind had labeled sex as dirty, something to only be enjoyed a certain way with certain people.

Mankind was wrong. Mike firmly believed that. If only other people could feel what he did, experience what he had, maybe they, too, could find a similar peace.

Feeling rather proud of his profound thoughts, he pushed his way through the heavy leaves around him, stepping into the open clearing that housed the Mandragora. In the middle of the clearing, the main plant was sunk into a recess in the ground, a large bloom atop its thick stem. Up above, large pods swung gently in the breeze, and Mike gave them a wide berth. Each pod was filled with a substance that, when inhaled, acted as a nuclear aphrodisiac. He and Sarah had fucked each other until physically exhausted, and then the Mandragora had consumed her.

“Where is the knife?” Mike asked, not expecting the Mandragora to answer him. The vines coiled around the clearing with anticipation, making Mike think of an excited dog whose master had just come home. Nearing the main body of the plant, he circled the area, wondering where the dagger could have gotten to.

Wandering in circles, he was surprised to see the vines waving to him from one corner of the clearing as if trying to get his attention. Walking toward them, he saw the hilt of the dagger sticking up from a flat, tire-shaped stone in the dirt.

“Oh! Thank you!” He gave the vine nearest him a gentle scratch, and the whole clearing shuddered. Crouching to get closer to the dagger, he felt his head and shoulders covered in the gentle pollen of the Mandragora. Looking up in alarm, he realized that the knife was firmly beneath one of the pods.

“Fuck!” He fell backward, trying to avoid any more of the glittery pollen, but it was too late. He was already sporting a massive hard-on, his pants straining to contain it. Even worse, he had nothing to do with it, and he could already feel his upper mind shutting down. Gone were thoughts of the house, the knife, or anything else in between. He needed something to fuck, and he needed it now.

Behind him, the Mandragora rustled again, and the whole clearing shifted. He turned to face the sound, his cock already in his hand as he stroked himself rapidly. The bud atop the Mandragora was glowing a fluorescent blue color, casting an eerie light across the clearing. Giant petals opened, revealing that the inner petals were, in fact, pink in color. The flower itself now looked more like a comfortable bed, and the middle of the flower shifted, the pistil unraveling itself to stand before him. Long blonde hair cascaded down the red-and-green skin of the woman inside, her body composed of leaves and petals. She beckoned to him from the middle of the flower bed, her features familiar and alien at the same time.

Right now, Mike didn’t give two fucks. He was already scrambling in the dirt, trying to get to his feet while squeezing his dick in one hand.

Her eyes were dark and mysterious, her whole body an amalgamation of different plants. Her skin had minor flaws that reminded him of the wrinkles on