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Description
Restringere poacae, known more commonly as wrapgrass, is an extremely rare, invasive weed most notably recognized by its unnaturally durable composition and sharp reaction to movement. Wrapgrass stalks mature under great tension, so much so that kinetic energy builds almost all of their lives. If “untriggered” wrapgrass is activated through movement near it or direct contact with it, it will surprisingly “snap,” the flat of its stalk quickly releasing all of its built up tension on whatever triggered it at an incredibly swift speed. Stalks have been known to completely uproot themselves at this phase, and at this point, while their lifespan comes to an end, they will continue to cling to the activating factor for as long as the stalk is in one piece.

Interesting read- if only Blake preferred non-fiction books over fantasy and romance novels. While exploring Menagerie’s forests for a quiet place to read, she took one false step and immediately met misfortune. Culling wrapgrass was never a priority of the resident faunus, which meant Blake hadn’t stepped into a clump of them- she’d stepped into a swarm.

Blades of grass filled her vision as suddenly, the tense, coiled weeds everywhere sprung to life and flew at her with the flat of their stalks extended. Gambol Shroud went flying in the chaos and impaled itself into a tree trunk high off the ground, while Blake struggled to squirm her hands out of the grass that had already pinned her arms to her sides.

“Wh-What is this?” Blake gasped as she realized that they were not quite done. More were activating to her struggles, and she felt grass lash at her everywhere- wrapping around her legs, slapping and squeezing her butt, dragging her down- with each struggle and squirm, Blake only dug a deeper, deeper hole. She opened her mouth to gasp out deep breaths, only for wrapgrass to close it off with a tight coil around her mouth.

“Mmgngn...!” she wailed. But the wrapgrass that hadn’t detached from their roots wanted her down- a leash of it formed at her waist shoved her butt down hard into the soft grass, and it was then that Blake really started to lose hope.

“Mngh...” she gasped through half-open eyes as she watched the wrapgrass have a much easier time with her. She was being completely cocooned, her arms so tightly bound to her sides it was like she never had them to begin with. The grass squeezed at her breasts- uncomfortably tight around her gut, struggling to fit over her butt, and yet it continued. For what felt like hours- for what very well could have been, it continued.

And finally, it was done. Blake had single-handedly solved the wrapgrass infestation. Problem was, she was still trapped in that tight, unrelenting cocoon.

Spreading her toes out inside her intense verdant bondage, Blake realized that she could probably use the nearby tree trunk to push herself up. It was laborious and slow, but Blake eventually scooted her immobilized body to the tree. Curling her toes slightly forward, she pushed hard, as hard as she could, and...

“Mmngh! Ymms!” she grunted, now standing extremely wobbly on her cocooned feet. “Mmf Mm cmmd jmmss fmmnd Gmmbl Shrmd...” Her neck was so tightly wrapped that it was immensely difficult to move her head around, but it didn’t take Blake long to find... impaled in the bark, six feet off the ground.

“Mmmgmm! HMFNN!” she moaned. Why her? This was so unlucky!

“Hff tmm hpp...” she conceded, easing her way closer to the tree. She tried to hop, but the only thing that accomplished was send her crashing to the ground all over again, falling right onto her breasts.

“Mm... cmn’t dmm it...” she wailed, trying to move. Nothing would- she was just stuck, left at the mercy of whoever, or whatever happened upon her. Breathing deeply, Blake took a last glimpse at the grassy forest through exhausted eyes as she let it claim her, leaving her a leafy parcel for the forest.

Description
Restringere poacae, known more commonly as wrapgrass, is an extremely rare, invasive weed most notably recognized by its unnaturally durable composition and sharp reaction to movement. Wrapgrass stalks mature under great tension, so much so that kinetic energy builds almost all of their lives. If “untriggered” wrapgrass is activated through movement near it or direct contact with it, it will surprisingly “snap,” the flat of its stalk quickly releasing all of its built up tension on whatever triggered it at an incredibly swift speed. Stalks have been known to completely uproot themselves at this phase, and at this point, while their lifespan comes to an end, they will continue to cling to the activating factor for as long as the stalk is in one piece.

Interesting read- if only Blake preferred non-fiction books over fantasy and romance novels. While exploring Menagerie’s forests for a quiet place to read, she took one false step and immediately met misfortune. Culling wrapgrass was never a priority of the resident faunus, which meant Blake hadn’t stepped into a clump of them- she’d stepped into a swarm.

Blades of grass filled her vision as suddenly, the tense, coiled weeds everywhere sprung to life and flew at her with the flat of their stalks extended. Gambol Shroud went flying in the chaos and impaled itself into a tree trunk high off the ground, while Blake struggled to squirm her hands out of the grass that had already pinned her arms to her sides.

“Wh-What is this?” Blake gasped as she realized that they were not quite done. More were activating to her struggles, and she felt grass lash at her everywhere- wrapping around her legs, slapping and squeezing her butt, dragging her down- with each struggle and squirm, Blake only dug a deeper, deeper hole. She opened her mouth to gasp out deep breaths, only for wrapgrass to close it off with a tight coil around her mouth.

“Mmgngn...!” she wailed. But the wrapgrass that hadn’t detached from their roots wanted her down- a leash of it formed at her waist shoved her butt down hard into the soft grass, and it was then that Blake really started to lose hope.

“Mngh...” she gasped through half-open eyes as she watched the wrapgrass have a much easier time with her. She was being completely cocooned, her arms so tightly bound to her sides it was like she never had them to begin with. The grass squeezed at her breasts- uncomfortably tight around her gut, struggling to fit over her butt, and yet it continued. For what felt like hours- for what very well could have been, it continued.

And finally, it was done. Blake had single-handedly solved the wrapgrass infestation. Problem was, she was still trapped in that tight, unrelenting cocoon.

Spreading her toes out inside her intense verdant bondage, Blake realized that she could probably use the nearby tree trunk to push herself up. It was laborious and slow, but Blake eventually scooted her immobilized body to the tree. Curling her toes slightly forward, she pushed hard, as hard as she could, and...

“Mmngh! Ymms!” she grunted, now standing extremely wobbly on her cocooned feet. “Mmf Mm cmmd jmmss fmmnd Gmmbl Shrmd...” Her neck was so tightly wrapped that it was immensely difficult to move her head around, but it didn’t take Blake long to find... impaled in the bark, six feet off the ground.

“Mmmgmm! HMFNN!” she moaned. Why her? This was so unlucky!

“Hff tmm hpp...” she conceded, easing her way closer to the tree. She tried to hop, but the only thing that accomplished was send her crashing to the ground all over again, falling right onto her breasts.

“Mm... cmn’t dmm it...” she wailed, trying to move. Nothing would- she was just stuck, left at the mercy of whoever, or whatever happened upon her. Breathing deeply, Blake took a last glimpse at the grassy forest through exhausted eyes as she let it claim her, leaving her a leafy parcel for the forest.