It was a strange plant, Monica thought. In all her years as a botanist, she hadn’t seen anything quite like it. She was lucky to get a chance to study it, really. She’d never even seen any other plants of the same genus. It was like it had sprung out of nowhere.
Sprung was the right word, because it was spreading like wildfire. Many of the other people in her town were afraid of it, of how fast it moved. So afraid that they had all evacuated at first sight of it. It wasn’t only their town who was encountering it for the first time, either. There were reports of other cities in the state having this encroachment problem, and dozens of reports from neighbouring states. Even one or two from other countries.
But where others were afraid, where others saw something sinister, Monica just saw a chance for good science. With the proper precautions, of course. She was wearing an air filtration mask for this very reason. Without it, she was at great risk of inhaling the chemicals the plant seemed to be spraying out continuously. It was a unique cocktail of chemicals that had a bizarre effect. It seemed that everyone who breathed it in was… changed. At first, they simply became more docile and placid, and then came the erratic behaviour, where it seemed they forgot all societal rules and conventions, forgoing clothing, copulating in public. And then—they would simply disappear.
Though the plant covered most of the sidewalks, the grass, the fountains, and had even began sending its vines up the sides of buildings, just outside of town, there was essentially a forest made of it. Or maybe it was more accurate to call it a ball. It had started out small, but by now it extended well into the wilderness. It was there that Margaret was taking her samples, scraping fibres off the side of a particularly thick vine that had about the width of a human forearm.
Her air filtration mask pumped away, keeping the cocktail out of her nostrils, and she happily scrapped her treasures into her secure container. Back in her lab, she would be able to properly study these little offshoots, to really get a good idea of what made this plant tick. How it operated. She’d been studying it for months, but still hadn’t made headway. If she could just crack its genetic code, she would have a second dissertation ready to essentially write itself, to the international acclaim of the community. It would be the finding of her career, could make her a name on the international stage—if she could just figure out how the damn thing worked.
So she came here, day after day, took sample after sample. Some days she merely took samples of the offshoots climbing buildings, or the undergrowth among the grass. There wasn’t much else to do. Her fellow townspeople—the ones who hadn’t been changed by the plant’s pheromones, that was—had all left in such a hurry that some of them had left the doors to their houses open on the way out of town. In some cases, the vines had made it all the way up front porch stairs and through the doorway, to begin entangling themselves in house carpets.
As she patiently scraped, movement flashed in the corner of her eye. She looked up, between the vines. Through the gaps, she saw the silhouette of what looked like a girl moving deeper into the strange, rounded forest.
Likely one of the ones who had disappeared. No one had ever seen them come out of the forest. It was assumed they had all died of starvation, or malnutrition. Some of them had been in there for months.
Clearly, at least one of them had not. Monica watched the girl with interest, but it was too shadowed inside to really make out many details about her.
She took a deep breath inside her filtration mask, making it work double time to protect her.
She knew what she was considering doing was insanely risky. But she was pretty sure she was going to do it anyway. She’d been curious about what was going on in there for some time, and especially about what was happening to the people inside. Now that it seemed she’d spotted one, it seemed to unique of an opportunity to pass up.
There was gap in the growth a few feet to the right of her that looked like it was about wide enough for her to pass through. She hesitated one more second, and then decided she would step inside the entanglement to get a good sense of what was happening on the inside of the plant.
The gap was wide enough to accommodate her, and she moved through with ease. Through the winding vines, she could just make out the girl ahead, and rapidly began to follow her, catching up, making quick strides to close the distance.
It was dark inside the enclosure. The vines were so thick overhead that they blocked the sunlight from getting in. The effect was eerie. Inside, it was so very still, so quiet. Monica doubled her pace, the girl now only mere feet in front of her.
The girl’s pace slowed, and even among the shadows, Monica could make out that she was now standing in a clearing.
She reached into her pocket, withdrawing the lantern she always kept on hand, just in case.
She approached the girl, one hand reaching for her shoulder, the other sliding the lantern up, illuminating the clearing with light.
At the same moment as she grasped the girl and spun her around, the light of her lantern rushed through the clearing, illuminating everything.
Monica gasped in shock at the sight. There were many girls here, not only this one.
The girls looked… human. Almost. It was quite clear their DNA had been radically altered. They looked like something out of a bad science fiction show. Their skin was… no longer human. Running underneath it, and sometimes on top of it, were those thin, grassy green vines. They seemed to run in and out of their skin, giving them all a strange, greenish glow.
Monica noticed that there was one vine at the base of the neck that entered the skin there, and gasped again at the implications.
“Remarkable,” She breathed. “It’s completely altered their DNA—it’s become a hybrid, a symbiote!” While this was not completely unheard of in the natural world, it had never before happened between a plant and a human body—and certainly not to this extent.
The girl she had grasped smiled in the light. Her hair was loose and flowing, and she was completely naked, as all the girls were. The more Monica looked at them, the more she thought they looked like a particularly objectifying rendition of fantasy elves, or celtic Fae. Their breasts were all quite large, just as covered and woven through with vines as everything else. Their nipples all seemed to be leaking some kind of white fluid.
“We knew you would follow, Monica,” the girl spoke.
Monica’s eyes widened. “My name—you know my name? And what do you mean, we?”
“We are a consciousness,” The girls said, her voice strange and rasping. “We are the product of the minds that were once only human, and the vines which were once only plants. Now, we are a unified singularity in many bodies and offshoots. We see and feel all that happens within the town. While you have been observing us, we have been observing you.”
Margaret’s heart was racing in exhilaration. This really was the discovery that would make her career—a plant evolving human consciousness! Why, it was unheard of! If she could prove it within a laboratory setting, she’d be the talk of the science world for years.
“But where… where are the men?” She couldn’t help but ask. The pheromones had affected men and women equally, and both genders had defected to this strange forest in equal numbers, but only one was represented before her now.
“Look,” the girl insisted, and look she did—at the row of thick vines that formed the circle of the clearing.
Her mouth fell open within her mask, and she was unable to even make a sound.
The vines were thickest there—just about the width of a human body.
“We encase them in pods of our shoots, every inch of their bodies, wrapped and caressed and entangled with us,” The girl explained in her strange voice. “They have served us well—in the unique environment of our growth, we can perfectly learn to duplicate their anatomy. And we have. They serve the purpose we require of them.”
“You mean… you don’t reproduce through photosynthesis?”
“No,” the girl said, with a smile. “We have evolved. Like you, we can reproduce through sexual reproduction now. But we do not require two genders to do it.”
“Amazing…” Monica murmured. For a plant to not only evolve consciousness, but sexual reproduction, was groundbreaking. It was so completely insane that Monica couldn’t believe she was the one lucky enough to stumble on this discovery.
Though, she supposed it made sense, the fact they used only one gender—there were many plants with both male and female sex qualities. Why should an evolved plant of this kind be any different?”
“Monica,” the girl spoke again, and she looked back into her strange green eyes.
“It’s time to remove your mask now,” she said. If it were possible for her to speak kindly at all, it would sound something like this. But the tone was still off.
“No,” Monica said, shaking her head. “No, I need to show you to the world. I need… I need to understand you, in my lab. I need to prove—”
Shoots came up from the ground, binding her wrists, and her ankles.
“The others, who we did not take in time, feared us. They fled your town. You did not. From the beginning, you knew you wanted to become one with us. “
Monica shook her head again, but didn’t try to speak. The plant girl had not paused long enough to allow her the opportunity.
“You wish more than anything to understand us. But there is no better way to understand us than to become us. We have perfect awareness. We understand, and know, every single molecule contained within us. And when you add your consciousness to ours, we will have all your scientific language, and all our complete awareness. Together, we will have perfect knowledge of what and how we are, in scientific terms. It is a greater understanding then we could ever have alone, and a greater understanding than you would ever be able to arrive at yourself.”
Monica bit her lip. It was an intoxicating idea, to have perfect understanding of this type. She found herself wishing for it. She had spent so long desperate to crack the genetic code, and she had not succeeded. It had eluded her. In her months and months of work, she had felt obsessed, frustrated, compelled to understand, and hear it was on a silver platter before her.
“But my… career,” She managed at last.
All the plant girls regarded her.
“Your career,” the first girl responded. “You wish for acclaim? To be part of something bigger than yourself? To contribute to the evolution of humanity? We can give you all of that.”
Monica thought they probably could.
“But I—oh,” she breathed. Because the girl was touching her now. And she hadn’t been touched by a lover in so long.
“We have found we are most successful in recruitment and assimilation when we introduce pleasure as an incentive,” the girl spoke, her voice for the first time taking on the approximation of a seductive purr. “These bodies are in pleasure all the time. Yours will be, also.”
More girls came closer to surround her on all sides. Hands pulled open her soft cardigan, removed it, rolled up her t-shirt, over her helmet, rolled up, her undershirt and removed it too. At the same time, hands were sliding her pants down her body, to rest in a pool at her feet, even as other hands were deftly removing her underwear.
Hands. Hands were everywhere, touching every inch of her chilled skin. And thought they had a strange texture—the mixture of vines and skin—they were still soft. And they were stroking her with a singular focus, a consistent intensity, and stroking her everywhere. On her lower back, her upper back, her shoulder blades, between her shoulder blades, the swell of her ass, the backs of her legs, behind her knees. And they were stroking her stomach, stroking her breasts, and deftly stroking the rapidly advancing wetness between her legs.
She felt encased by them, encased by a human cocoon. It was warm, and soft, and her body shivered under their touch uncontrollably, and she found herself becoming more aroused than she had ever been in her life.
“We could simply remove your helmet by force,” The first plant-girl spoke. Though Monica was surrounded by plant girls on both sides, and behind her, they had left a gap in front of her, so she could still see the one who had spoken to her first. “But, we must admit, we have become as intrigued by you as you are by us. And to be even more honest, we quite enjoy the idea of seducing you to become one with us, after sensing you for so long.”
Monica swallowed, feeling her arousal sharpen painfully. The hands were so good at touching her, at massaging every inch of her, but the words of the plant set all the touches on fire.
The idea that they had been observing her as she was observing them was… intriguing to her. She had so long been the observer—to be observed by her would-be subject was a strange feeling.
“You have been so lonely, Monica,” the plant spoke through the girl’s mouth, with something like sympathy. “We have felt it. Especially at night—how often you have tried to pleasure yourself to assuage the loneliness. You will never be lonely again.”
Monica’s eyes rolled back in her head, as the onslaught of touch continued. It was altering, shifting, into squeezes and pulls, licks, and kisses and sucks. So many mouths were on her now, and she thrust her body up into the mouths attending to her, thinking only of pleasure, thinking only of the blessed release of orgasm that had eluded her for months.
The first girl was close to her now, standing just in front of her.
“Do you want to see what we have evolved, Monica? Do you want to see what all those male bodies have taught us?”
Monica felt her stomach hollow out at the implication. Slowly, she nodded. The touches on her skin intensified.
She watched in awe as a little green flower sprouted from between the legs of the plant girl. Under her gaze, the flower blossomed, peeking out further from her entrance. The flower became a thin vine, extending outwards, which was followed by 4, 5, 6 vines shooting out behind it and entwining around the first, to become a thick mass, which grew to the length of about 10 inches, on Monica’s estimation, and stopped.
It was thicker, and longer than any man she’d ever been with her, and her heart was in her throat. Even as her mind was reluctant, her body was screaming for it to enter her. Whatever this strange botanical approximation of a male cock was really like, she was desperate to find out how it felt. Her own cunt was gushing—somehow, she knew it would slide in like a dream.
“Do you want this, Monica?” The plant girl asked, her tone almost coy, despite its raspyness.
“Oh god, yes, I do,” She exhaled, her words running together, and fogging up the inside of her helmet.
The hands stopped stroking for a moment, easing her back into a partly reclined angle, and supporting her there. She could feel vines against her back, forming a net, cradling her, relieving the hands of their burden. They went back to stroking her, more slowly now, every touch making her more sensitive, heightening her arousal.
The plant girl approached, positioning herself just at the entrance to Monica’s cunt. “When we take you, there will be no going back. Your helmet won’t be able to keep you separate from us any longer. We will pump our pheromones directly into your body, we will pump our seed into you, and you will be changed.”
Monica nodded. “I-I-I… know. Please… please…”
It was enough. The plant girl slid her strange growth home, entering Monica in one thrust, and Monica let out a screech at the intensity.
Her pussy gave way effortlessly just as she had suspected it would, accommodating the girth entirely, right to the hilt, so she could feel the girl’s clit pressing hard into her own.
“Oh, god,” she moaned. Because it was like a human penis… and also not. It seemed to be covered in small fibres the rest of the vines lacked. Small fibres which were now carefully massaging every inch of her inner walls, every inch of her womb—especially the fibres on the very tip of the growth, the petals of the flower, which were carefully massaging her right in her greatest depths.
She had never been touched like this before—this kind of touch was impossible in human hands, human lovemaking. But it was so much more delicious than anything she’d ever felt before. The fibres were so soft, they were like smooth silk, and they flowed, and rubbed and stroked and caressed her to insanity. The intensity of the sensation should have been impossible. As it was, it was more than she could bear. The only appropriate response was to scream in pleasure.
But then. Oh, god, then. Then, with all those fibres still caressing her, with the vines supporting her back, and writhing against her, and with all those hands stroking her where they could still reach her—the girl began to thrust into her. Hard thrusts, that shook her body, and made her breasts vibrate with the force.
“Oh, please,” Monica gasped. “Oh, please, please, oh, I need it!”
The plant girl only smiled. “We know.”
She increased her thrusts to double time, and Monica knew it wouldn’t be long. Sure enough, within seconds, she could the warm seed of the strange plant hybrid spewing deep inside her, hitting her deepest wall with a force that made her collapse in orgasm.
It didn’t feel like that when a man came—many times, she hadn’t been able to feel it at all. But this—the spunk of the plant collided with a force that made her whole body shake—and she could still feel it, there in her deepest space, as if it were clinging to the wall it had found and—spreading. If possible, it felt even smoother than the fibres, and as it spread, it continued its never ending massage of her body from the inside out. Fibres stroked, the spunk pooled and ran like a river along the inside of her, the hands caressed, and the plant girl thrust into her with a slow steady pulsing, sending a never ending, less forceful stream of her ejaculate into Monica’s body.
It was like no other orgasm she’d ever had. Unfurling, and spooling out, yet never ending. She felt vines bursting forth from within her skin, felt her body changing, felt the spunk changing her into a body just like the rest of them had.
It hit her bloodstream, and that only intensified the pleasure further. It reached her brain in no time at all, and there was a split second before Monica as an individual ceased to exist, in which she felt complete, overpowering pleasure at the knowledge that she was about to be subsumed and absorbed, body and soul, and that she would have perfect understanding, and perfect consciousness.
The next second she was no longer Monica. She was We. And We removed the helmet from the head of Monica’s former body, and proceeded to bask in communal pleasure for an unnamed eon.* * *