Unfortunately for Seras, Marcus was a typical male... oblivious to her pleasure, her fear, and her wants... and cruel to boot.<br/><br/>Though he was very musch lost in his own sensations, when Seras started struggling harder he seemed to notice, if only because her squirming beneath him, and around him, felt good.  His eyes opened a bit, and he saw her expression, and her plight; he seemed to consider for just a moment, then a cruel grin spread across his face.<br/><br/>He was panting and gasping, exertion and sensations making his face red, but he managed to gasp, "Take... breath, girly...!"<br/><br/>And then, not waiting to see if she would obey or succeed if she did, he pushed down on her deliberately, his hips riding hers as he pushed the wide-eyed rehead under.  He continued to buck, groaning more and more, but strained to keep her from surfacing...<br/><br/>Outside, Trish had backed away from the pitcher plant.  She was flushed and excited, and had both felt and appreciated Seras' attempts to return the thrusting favors from inside.  Now, however, the moving bump had slid down to near the bottom of the pitcher.  The way it was moving now, coupled with the change in the muffled sounds and Trish's knowledge of these plants, made it clear to her what was happening.  However, far from trying to help Seras --- not that there was anything she could do --- instead Trish stood there, panting and staring, thrills of pleasure running through her body as she watched to see if the Redhead would survive this.