"Impossible," the word spilled off of Ivy's red lips in a sensual drawl as she leaned in closer to you, observing your contorting expression. Thick roots snaked around your body, ensnaring your chest like a constrictor, holding you firmly a few feet above the ground. A thin vine wrapped tightly around your head, gagging you.

You were completely immune to her pheromones, and it fascinated as well as irritated her. She tried several concoctions, and yet, nothing.

"You don't feel a thing, do you, darling?" Ivy probed, vines slithering around her hidden greenhouse. She pursed her lips together, before leaning even closer, her sweet scent pervading the air.

"A rare beauty," she pondered.