Then Elisabeth's body was still standing upright,
The thick, slimy black roots still coiled tightly around her arms, her legs, her waist, her neck, and even wrapped around her big, heavy breasts like fleshy tentacles. One thick, glistening tip pressed directly against her clean pink pussy, another sliding between her soft, creamy folds, injecting the curse through the same wet, sucking pores that had once corrupted Ren. The roots were still dripping slow, thick strands of black fluid that ran down her thighs.
Queen Thistle took one step forward.
"Release her," she commanded, her voice low and regal, the same ancient authority that had once echoed through the entire forest.
