The spread was—comprehensive. Both ankles held, both wrists held, the full suspension of her in the hentai-adjacent geometry that the vine's growth pattern had produced—her legs drawn open above her, her wrists pulled out to her sides, the inversion maintaining the blouse's honest relationship with gravity and her skirt's continued commitment to having relocated entirely.
The full weight of her breasts, hanging free in the loosened neckline—the thick, dense swing of them, the nipple-lines visible and the full curve of the undersides catching the light as she swung slightly in the vine's adjustment.
Her panty.
