He rubbed his hands together gleefully. At long last it was here…the plant he had long searched for. Said to be nearly extinct, said to be housed in carefully guarded, extremely private conservatories, he had finally found a purveyor of the exotic.
Carefully, gently, he sliced through the packing tape, and eased open the box. Inside a second box, wrapped in plastic, with several moisture packs. He knew that inside that box would be self-heating pads, meant to keep his precious darling safe on its journey to him.
“Uvam Lignam Viriditas.” He spoke in a hushed whisper as he sliced through the plastic, and opened the inner box. With hands that trembled from sheer joy, he reached in and lifted the plant.
“Sour Stickweed, indeed. Your Latin name sounds far more elegant that this mundane name.” Bringing it to his face, he kissed it softly. It was the last thing he ever did.
Twenty-five Years Later…
The house had been listed for sale for more than two decades. The previous owner had disappeared, and his great nephew had no desire to take on the crumbling manse. Because the property had been let go, the roof caved in on the north side, letting rain water seep into the attic. It eventually led to a hole that extended, over time, all the way to the first floor. Bird roosted in the rafters, mice skittered on the second, but only the plants in the conservatory occupied the first floor.
Cori stood looking at the ruined building. She supposed that once upon a time it had been grand. Her boss must truly hate her, to give her the assignment of assessing the building, and putting an auction price on it.
“Zero,” she muttered. “I’d pay zero dollars for this. The land is great, but so overgrown it could rightfully be called an jungle. The house is a goner.” With a sigh, she adjusted her helmet, with headlamp, and grabbed her flashlight. “Might as well do this before all the light goes,” she grumbled.
The stone steps were still sturdy. The front door hung just slightly askew and she worried about rats. She had her workboots on, but still. The air inside was warm, humid, actually, and smelled of a sweet perfume.
She turned on the headlamp, and her flashlight, playing the beams around the front entrance. With a deep sigh, she pushed open the door, and discovered wonderland. Plants grew in mad profusion everywhere. Tall trees that must be oranges bore thick and luscious balls that were shades of green and orange, just like they were supposed to be. She walked on, mouth open. There were tall grasses, and pathways winding through the foliage. She heard running water, and turned her light in that direction. Somewhere upstairs, a pipe had broken. The stream ran down the marble staircase and cascaded to a dip in the floor, filling a shallow pool of water, before spilling out of the pond and sluicing off between two thick trees. She didn’t see any sign of humans, nor animals. though she had seen a few birds winging out of the roof when she’d pulled up in her truck.
Following the flow, she stepped into the deep tropics. The solarium had several broken panes where tall palms had pushed through and reached for the sky. Below, vines and shrubs bloomed in humid profusion. Here, the little stream from the foyer trickled down three short steps and pooled over the sunken floor. Water lilies bloomed in shades of purple, pink, white, and yellow. The flowering vines gave off more of the intoxicating scent she’d smelled when she first came through the front doors.
“This is amazing. A-mazing.” She turned in a slow circle, trying to take it all in. Nature was definitely reclaiming this space, and in grand fashion. “It’s wicked hot in here,” she said, shaking out of her jacket. She laid it over the twirly knob on the door. “I need to find the living quarters, the kitchen,” she mused, lifting her phone to snap pictures of the space. Something bumped her boot and she squealed. Looking down, she saw a plant.
“Well, where did you come from?” she asked it, laughing at her nerves. Two tendrils shot up and wrapped around her ankles.
“Whoa!” she said, trying to kick free. They might as well have been made of steel. Bending down, she began tugging at the vine around her right ankle, even as the left one began creeping up her leg.
“Hey HEY! OMG I can see it growing. This is weird!” Grabbing for her phone she tried to dial 911, but another seeking tendril plucked it out of her hand.
The voice was soft, muted. She was sure she was hearing things. A vine wrapped tightly around her upper thigh, slipped up her belly and into the space between two buttons on her shirt. She felt the warm softness of it, like a pussy willow, almost, as it slithered up against her skin.
“Jeeze NO…om…shit! Stop…”
Her wrists were captured, and somehow it had tugged her slowly to the ground. She didn’t fall, she knew she didn’t, but one moment she was upright, and the next she was laying on a cushion of vines. She was wrapped too tightly to move. Another vine was creeping under the waistband of her jeans, others slipping up inside her pant legs.
She felt a tug on her left nipple, a quick piercing prick. She arched as she felt it, felt it stabbing her nipple. The nipple began to tighten, then throb. It grew bigger, harder, feeling like it was going to explode. Inside her jeans, vines merged, pressing against her underpants, seeking the warm apex of her thighs. She felt quivery, lightheaded, and an incredible heat bloomed between her legs.
Head thrown back, body bowed, her nipples now both injected with some sort of plant venom, she stiffened as the most intense orgasm of her life shuddered through her. As the moisture dampened her panties, the vines wriggled under the elastic, and plunged forcefully into her cunt. The orgasm grew stronger, her mouth opened in a soundless scream as she came so hard she thought she would die. Her legs trembled, her nipples began to ooze milk, and her breasts pressed, fuller than they’d ever been, ready to burst free of her constricting clothing. The vines, twined together in a huge phallus, thrust into her, seeking more of her sweet juice. Several others sought entry, but she was full. Her anus slowly gave way to their probing. Another shuddering orgasm tore through her. The vines were squeezing her tits, coiled ’round them tightly, repeatedly stabbing her nipples with the small barbs. Shaking and convulsing, her pussy sprayed fluid, cum dripping through her jeans. The probing tendrils writhed in glory at all the sweet creamy goodness flowing over them, and continued to thrust until it found her deepest, warmest place. She screamed as the tendrils breached her cervix, pushing against her womb. There was a pulsing that she felt from the vine, and a sudden shocking feeling of terrible fullness. The pain was intense, but the orgasm that clenched her cunt around the intruding vines was even more wicked. With a gasping moan, she fainted.
When she woke up, she was laying on the floor.
“Oh shit, I peed myself,” she said to no one. “I must have slipped on the wet marble…” she felt her head, but didn’t find a sore spot. “Guess I was lucky. Don’t seem to be hurt.”
She put her hand on her grumbling belly. “Horny and hungry. Man. I need to get some time with my man.” The sexual need was intense, though she remembered none of the rape she’d experienced.
Rising, she gathered her phone, her flashlight. The day was all but faded.
“Okay, house, I’ll be back tomorrow.”
we babies will have
seeds were planted?
she carries them warm they come soon
tomorrow we finising using the huuman for babies
they come back to us she plant outside. we grow.
good. hooman femaaale taste better than hooman man.