The heavy oak doors of the conservatory creaked open, revealing the warmly lit chamber adorned with lush velvet drapes and gilded mirrors. Lush carnivorous plants and climbing vines snaked around wrought-iron framework, their tendrils reaching towards the high ceiling. Rows of towering pitcher plants, their modified leaves like grotesque drinking glasses, lined the periphery. Venus Flytraps, their crimson traps wide open, snapped at invisible gnats. The air hung heavy with the sweet scent of exotic flowers. Georgette, her tail raised in a light arc, stepped inside. Shere Khan, his imposing figure filling the doorway, sauntered in behind his lover, his piercing blue eyes scanning the scene before him. His shaft had gone soft, and waved side to side with his pace.

"My little jungle," he said, his voice filled with affection for both the plants and the nude poodle. “I’ve spent years gathering these. Some of them are pretty rare.”

“I know you have a collection, but seeing it in person is always something else.” Georgette breathed, turning to face him.

Kahn shrugged modestly, but the pride in his eyes was unmistakable. "Thank you. It's taken years to gather these species. Each one has its own story, its own peculiarities."

Georgette walked along the rows of plants, her fingers grazing the edge of a pitcher plant, the slick surface cool to the touch. Her bare breasts jiggled with each twist and turn of her torso. "I can see that. You've poured so much of yourself into this. It's like a living work of art."

Kahn nodded, stepping beside her. "Exotic plants have always fascinated me. Their beauty, their adaptability... and their hunger. There's something mesmerizing about them."

She glanced at him, her expression thoughtful. "It’s a perfect reflection of you. Unique, intricate, and a little mysterious."

He stepped closer, his hand brushing against hers as he pointed out a particularly striking plant. “Careful, love, the Venus flytrap on your left is a new acquisition. It’s native to the tepuis of Venezuela. Took me a while to get it acclimated to this environment. Especially touchy."

Georgette sidestepped the delicate, gaping maw with a laugh. "Right, right. No feeding the darlings today."

“Not with you, at least.” The tiger chuckled softly, a hint of blush coloring his cheeks. "But enough about my hobbies. We have an engagement with your assistant, right?"

Georgette’s eyes lit up. "Why yes. Silly me, getting distracted."

She scanned the rows of plants, each more bizarre than the last. There were spindly stalks with pouches that pulsed ominously, spiky leaves glistening with a suspicious dew, and strange, fleshy flowers that seemed to writhe in the warm air. Taking his hand, she led him to the center of the conservatory, where they would find the centerpiece of the room.

"Kahn, darling, I believe you’ve already met Miss Radcliff this morning," Georgette called out, her voice dripping with amusement. “I know you’ve desired a personal interview with her, and you have a thing for a thick set of thighs.”