Humid air, orchids blooming in maid bound gagged. Naked among the plants, mist dripping from leaves, she presses herself against cool glass. “Grow for me, maid bound gagged,” she whispers, sliding slick fingers inside while vines brush her nipples. The greenhouse fills with wet sounds and breathless “maid bound gagged… bloom… maid bound gagged…” until the orgasm bursts—she squirts onto fertile soil, crying “maid bound gagged!” as flowers seem to open wider in sympathy.