The grove was a large area to the east of the school. It boasted of over 2,000 acres of forested area that stretched from the gates to the river Millan that meandered through these planes. The denizens that lived there were a peaceful collection and cross-section of the region's wildlife, everything from owls and other birds, deer, elk, wolves, all the way up to the Dryads that called it home as well. They had apparently lived here for a long time, much much before the time of the headmistress.

She breathed the air, relishing the change to her normal routine, the fresh air was divine. She stepped out of the gate and looked at the inviting sight in front of her, with a smile she reached behind herself and pulled the pin that held her hair up and allowed the long flowing golden locks of hair to fall down the small of her back.

Gods, that was freeing.

In the same mindset, she loosened the tie she had around her neck, and unbuttoned the top two buttons from her shirt, breathing out a sigh of relief. With her preparations ready she stepped out into the field and started her casual stroll into the woods. The sun cascaded through the trees, dappling the light and causing streams of gold in which dust motes played dancing in and out of the golden rivers of light with the air currents like children at a stream. As she walked her smile grew, each step away from her office, each stride away from that confining place brought her back to the first time she had visited this grove, and what had made it her favorite spot.

She had still been a student when she had first gone here, and it had been to find a place to cry.

Lira might not realize it, but she was extremely lucky, after all, she could have had the same situation as the headmistress had. A bastard child, unwanted even by her father, her mother deemed to low class to even be allowed to see a child with even half noble blood. And she never had the support of a familiar that was humanoid, one who could talk back to her, love her, hold her.

She sighed, and as she did a large raptor flew down from the sky and delighted on her shoulder, it fondly rubbed its head against her own and she smiled as she ran her fingers through its soft feathers. Yes, Luis was not capable of the same things as Leon, but Luis was a proper Phoenix Raptor, the bright red and gold of his feathers attested to that, not that it had done anything to assuage her father’s disappointment that she had gotten such a weak familiar.

“So worthless it cant even die properly.”

The words echoed through her head as she walked, old words. Words spoken once by a now long dead man, his house heirless and divided.

And here she was, still standing, still alive, still thriving.

32 years, she had been on this earth, and in those years she had undergone countless trials and tribulations, success and defeat, love and betrayal.

And she was still standing.

A smile formed on her lips, and she started humming a soft song that often calmed her. “That is the song I made for you is it not?” a voice called out in the woods, low and sensual, sounding like the wind blowing through trees, distinctly feminine. And as though materializing from the surroundings she found herself no longer alone in the forest.

The Dryad that walked towards her was a leggy creature, green as the grass, and clothed only lightly in a dress of maple leaves, her long flowing locks of green hair were woven through a walnut wood crown that adorned her head. Her legs were covered up to the knees in rough boots made of bark and she swayed her hips back and forth in a sensual way that would make any man’s mouth water.

“Is it not? My little Caitlin?” she purred and walked around the headmistress, running one hand through the woman’s hair and drawing it up to her nose to breath in the sent.

“That is the one we made if I remember correctly I also helped in its creation.” The headmistress said smiling, “It has been so long since someone called me Caitlin,” she sighed, leaning back into the Hamadryad’s chest, relishing the warmth and love that was there.

“Ah, yes, I remember now, you were such a little thing back then, so heartbroken, I am glad you came out that day, you needed love, and I have ample supplies of love.” she snaked her hands down across Caitlin’s stomach slipping one hand through the buttons of the shirt to feel the warm skin under.

“We need to talk,” Caitlin said, her voice barely hiding the need she felt quivering in her core.

“Oh?” the Dryad purred, “Talk about what my precious Caitlin?” her hand slipped lower, messaging the flesh of her lower abdomen, the fingers just barely above the tangle of golden hair that ran down between her legs.

“About your daughter.” The headmistress moaned, even as the dryad moved her other hand and deftly undid the buttons of the shirt, and began kneading Caitlin's purple cloth covered breasts. The movement of the fabric over her hardening nipples caused a pulse of pure joy and pleasure to run through her.

“Which one?” the dryad laughed, her fingers now tangled in the hair, slowly combing through it, her hand reached up from its place on her breasts and turned Caitlin’s head to face her own, and she stole her lips, pressing deep into the kiss. “I have so many...” she whispered into the painting headmistresses mouth. The dryad’s fingers had just reached the small bundle of nerves at the entrance of her lower lips. With slow delicate movements, she began to stroke there, running her fingers over the labia, making sure to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves just above with every stroke of her fingers.

Caitlin struggled to keep coherent thoughts, but those soon vanished as two fingers spread her and slowly slid in, she felt her vagina tighten and felt the sucking pressure she exerted on the dryad’s fingers. As they were pulled out they rubbed against the most sensitive spot in her body and it felt like a jolt of electricity had gone off, freezing her and causing every muscle to tense. When they were almost fully out and she was left feeling empty the Dryad pushed back in with a vigor, once again spreading the tight muscles wide.

Slowly the pace of the Dryad’s fingers began to speed up, each thrust faster than the last. Caitlin didn't know how long this lasted but soon she found herself on the edge, any more and she was likely to break.

“Miona!” she called out the name with as much force and frantic emotion as she could muster, and Miona the mother of the forest, the queen dryad responding by hooking her fingers and scraping them playfully against Caitlin’s inner walls. It was that motion that did it, something broke inside her like a tidal wave, and she felt the hot rush of relief as it washed out of her.

She did not know how she ended up on the soft bed of grass, nor how she had been stripped of clothes, but she found she didn't care as she looked down between her legs and found Miona perched there, her hands on Caitlin’s inner thighs, holding her apart. She felt the warm tongue that darted out, tasting the juices that she had released and almost passed out again.

Her tongue caressed the tender flesh, running along each and every surface licking her clean before she began to crawl forward, kissing her way up Caitlin’s body. She shivered as she got kissed just between the breasts. She felt her nub rub up against the warm wet area between Miona’s legs and realized what the dryad was about to do. Her eyes opened wide and she was about to speak when her lips and her protest were sealed by the dryads own lips and her mouth was invaded by another’s tongue.

Miona’s mouth tasted of maple syrup, a divine and heavenly sweet flavor that seemed to coat every surface of the woman. It distracted her from the complex runes that were forming around the two of them, casting them in a bright green glow. Thick vines sprung out of the ground, wrapping all four of Caitlin’s limbs, and had she been aware enough to notice she would have seen that she was not the only one so bound.

Four more came to be just behind them, two large and two small, the large ones entered both her and Miona, sliding in the slick passages and spreading them both wide. The smaller two, however, had a much larger impact. Caitlin’s eyes flew open wide and she attempted to scream but the sound was lost down Miona’s throat as the vine entered the only other hole she had down there.

The movement of the vines, the thrusting, the inability to move as she was being held down, and the feel of Miona’s warm body pressing up against her own drowned away months of fatigue, replacing it with a sort of animalistic lust. The headmistress began moving her hips in rhythm with the thrusts, pulling the invaders deeper and deeper inside. She felt herself tense and for the second time, she came.

But the vines were not going to stop, not this soon.

By the time they pulled out of her a small puddle had formed, the grass which had once been under her had turned into mud from the motion and sweat and other liquids the two had excreted. Miona was still on top of her, her arms wrapped lovingly around Caitlin's head, almost motherly as she hummed the song they had made together all those years ago.

“Gweince,” the headmistress croaked out with some effort, her throat raw from all the screaming she had just done. “We need to talk about your daughter Gweince.” Miona’s eyes raised in curiosity...