The tendril force Aurora's shapely legs back even further, pushing her so that her ass is off the ground, and most of her weight is resting on her shoulders and higher back.
The icicle is pushed into her tight anus. First just a little, then a little more. It pauses a little, and then is pushed in, the water from its melting surface lubricating it, making it entrance easier.

Most of the pixies seems to be caught up in their orgiastic riot. Wings are flapping, small flares of light and pixie dust firing of as the little creatures are brought to a state mimicking Aurora's own.

Some of them must have been less affected, or at least have preserved enough sense to bring a new element to the game. Through the haze of lust, Aurora can see two new tendrils hovering over her, each holding some sort of container made out of leaves.

By some unheard command, they start squeezing the container, who slowly crack open. Inside is rich, golden honey, that now starts to drip over the pale body of the priestess, hitting her face, her torso and her legs.

The priestess' moans and cries grow louder and higher pitched as her legs are forced back.. rolling her onto her shoulders.. spreading her legs apart.. allowing the tendrils to slide the icicle into her anus, while the first root continues to ravish her pussy, stretching it with its own mass and the other icicle.

"No..no..no..no..goddess... no more...pleasssee!!" she wails helplessly as she is fucked relentlessly.. orgasm after orgasm ripping through her body until she can no longer tell where one ends and the next begins. The pixie dust glistens as it falls over her slickened skin, sending further little darts of pleasure through her entire body.

Her pleas though turn to wordless cries as the honey is poured all over her face and torso. Her legs jerk and kick wildly against the roots holding her in place as her orgasm reaches entirely new levels. Her juices gush out of her pussy like a fountain.. milk erupts from her breasts.. mixing with the honey and pixie dust, soaking the beautiful amazon. Her eyes roll back until only the whites are showing as her body is turned into a spasming mess, dripping with cum, milk, honey and pixie dust.

While an onlooker might have been shocked by the priestess' pleas for mercy and the bizarre magic rape taking place, the scene also had its strange beauty. The moaning, writhing body of the priestess was glistening with the mixture of fluid, milk, honey, water and cum shimmering with the multicolored dweomer of the pixies.

The pixies themselves were in a state of mad exstacy. Being thaumavores, creatures able to fed of mana, ravishing someone with the magic talent of Aurora was like drinking potent spirits. Little voices were screaming and moaning along with their victims as each and every one of them had a series of orgasms and climaxes.

Their magic went wild, and the affected plants reacted to that. The ground was continuously sprouting new tentacles, coiling themselves around Aurora, trying to enter her orifices, grabbing her, hoisting her off the ground. Sometimes the altered roots would overextend themselves, cracking open, leaking sap and water. The pixies themselves were not immune, a few had been snatched away and were being violated by the more slender tendrils, without their kin noticing or caring.

Something else seemed to be happening as well. All the magic let loose, pixie magic mixed with Aurora's own inner winter swirled in the air in the grove. Even someone without a shred of psychic potential would feel that the air was heavy, crackling with power, like seconds before a thunderstorm.

Something was about to break loose, and not even the pixies knew what.

[OOC: Sorry for the long absence - RL has not been fun lately for me]

Aurora is like putty under the assault of the lust-maddend grove. There is no fight left in the priestess as roots and vines and leaves all grab, grope, caress and abuse her in ecstasy.

She suckles greedily at the sap-dripping vine in her mouth, swallowing as fast as she can, but still sap dribbles from the corners of her lips where she can't swallow fast enough.

Her breasts seem to swell under the abuse they take as they are wrapped, and squeezed and suckled.. milking her like a cow.

The pleasure-mad priestess makes mewling pleading sounds for more as the vines lift her into the air, holding her in place, as the tendrils take turns raping all of her holes.

As orgasm after violent orgasm continue to rip at the young priestess' mind, shattering it, the storm inside her changes. Winds through the grove pick up.. pulsing waves of cold and mana echo from the convulsing form of the young beauty until it's almost as if the storm itself was orgasming.. feeding the wild magick and the ecstatic pixies with pure, powerful mana unlike any they have ever encountered before.

(OOC: No need to apologize. Too bad RL has ben bad. I hope it will sort itself out.)

"Ayiieee!"
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

The pixes twitch and shiver under the onslaught of magic. The cold essence of the storm that Aurora keeps inside her was mixed with the warmer, lifelike and whimsical essence of the pixies. The two kinds of magic wrapped around each other, making a new, unpredictable force.

In one giant, explosive orgasm of pure mystic force, the power flowed outwards from the participants. Most of the pixies were physically blown away, scattered amongst the trees surrounding the grove.

Plants and leaves were tossed about the air, and a cold plast ripped through the foilage, aquinting the tropical plants to something they had never been exposed to before. Frost.

The clearing was eerily quiet. Exhausted but happy pixies were scattered all around, some unconcious. The tendrils, those that had not been torn up and tossed away, were frozen solid.

(OOC: Hope it was okay that I did it this way)

Aurora's cry of orgasm as the mystical climax crests is nearly deafening. Her body is arched, and convulses again and again and again for what, to her, feels like eternity. Until at last the pale amazon goes limp and unconscious - her body glistening with frost, milk, honey, sap, dust and cum. A lovely picture of pure wanton abandon, exhausted beyond human endurance.

The grove did not turn out much better, as foliage, pixies, dust and frost decorate the entire area. The trees glisten with snow and ice, looking almost like a beautiful Christmas portrait, with the tiny bodies of exhausted pixies glowing like lights and ornaments amongst the foliage.

Aurora's body is exhausted to a state that it has never experienced before - and the young woman will be unconscious for the rest of the day, through the night, and well into the following morning before she wakes up - wearing nothing but the glistening mix of fluids that adorn her sore and satisfied body - leaving her to try and make her way back to campus naked.

And as her mind thinks back on what happened, she nearly collapses again as an unexpected orgasm strikes just from the memories. And somewhere inside, Aurora knows that she will have to return here again. And if the priestess' previous orgasms were like fine drink to the pixies - then the last one was like a strong narcotic - perhaps as addictive to them as it was to Aurora.

When powerful mystic forces are invoked, there is often a spillover, a bit of magic excess magic that will need to spend itself. Sometimes this magic has something resembling a will of its own, and acts in ways its original user can not predict. Such was the case now. A bit of the magic dweomer lingered in the air, before homing in on the living trees of the forest. While the pixies and Aurora rested after the blast of mana, some of the nearest trees creaked a little, as stiff wood grew temporary malleable. Trunks twisted and grew, taking shape. First one tree, then another changed and became a living statue, each depicting Aurora and the pixies, each on slightly different. Every one of them shoved Aurora nude, and in various stages of exctacy. All of them faced the opening, so that Aurora would face a gallery showing every stage of her own unwilling pleasure and her own beauty.

When Aurora finally came home, she would find that the pixies had gotten to her room before her. Outside her door were tree large containers, each one made of overgrown leaves, and all of them filled with honey. Beside them were various herbs. Some where merely flavor, a few were potent healing herbs.

The priestess had pleased them a lot. Very few modern mortals were capable of providing such fine sport as she did, and her magic made it all so much more delectable. She had learned to mace a proper sacrifice of her body, and a gift in return seemed only proper.