Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters herein depicted are over the age of 18. I do not condone any abuse of any kind, and everything herein is just fantasy. Do not attempt to re-enact anything you read here. All BDSM activities should be Safe, Sane and Consensual. What I describe in my stories is varying degrees of abuse which make for wonderful fantasies, but would in reality be awful.
To quote Gigglinggoblin: Real-life con-noncon requires a lot of trust, safewords, and other things a fantasy can fudge a little. Enjoy the kink responsibly, and enjoy the story! If you feel inclined, please get in touch, I'd love to talk about my writing or any related kink stuff!
Summary: A little shop experiences erotic plant girl horrors! It's an invasion of a plantgirl who likes to snatch bodies! Am I being obvious enough? A small plant grows until it becomes a massive plant girl. She then seduces everybody one by one and begins to spread across the globe while young struggles with the morality of being the only one in a position to do anything about it.
Contains: F/m, F/f, brief F/fm, plant sex, a giant plant girl, body growth, cock growth, breast growth, weight gain, breast feeding, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, milking.
DARK THEMES: Brainwashing, hypnosis, mind control, gaslighting, end of the world, memory manipulation, ominous consequences, trickery, rape, betraying the entire human race, emotional manipulation, breaking up a relationship, personality change.
*********************************
Wayne's apartment was little more than a place to eat and sleep; sporting curling wallpaper and old carpet that was flattened to the point it was a solid mass. The heat from the store below rose up so he rarely felt cold, indeed despite the heat of the store below he'd often spend as much time down there as he could in summer. That was why he'd moved the old radio downstairs years ago, he'd barely used it when he kept it up there.
The plant would sit on the table where he usually ate and he had - with much chagrin - accepted his necessary role in feeding it. He would take it upstairs with him each night, and bring it back down to display in the shopfront each morning, and as a result he was never more than a couple of feet from it. Within a few days his whole apartment was coated with a cloying, sweet saccharine smell. It felt like every breath he took was moist. Opening the windows seemingly made no difference.
Each night he had the same dream; he saw the mother he had always wanted. She was always there, but just out of reach. Yet that was a merciful reprieve from his new daily routine. Caring for the plant was arduous. It was utterly ravenous in its hunger. It grew rapidly, almost doubling in size in the first two days, and doubling again the day after.
At first he had tried jerking off and simply allowing the plant to clean up the mess. However, it soon became harder and harder to keep up with the plant's needs. There was a limit to what even a terminally single guy could accomplish when it came to masturbation.
It was also getting harder and harder to ignore the allure of those pillowy purple lips. As ridiculous as it sounded, they had an undeniably sexual quality. It didn't make it any easier that the plant's bulbous head would constantly follow his cock like a serpent keeping track of its prey everywhere he went. Hell, for some reason he found he was always sporting at least a semi-erection these days. Those lips... something about them was doing terrible things to him.
The plant would lick its lips, drooling thick, purple, viscous slime onto the tabletop as if in hunger. They looked so slick and inviting that Wayne had trouble looking away. In fact, it was getting difficult to focus on the 'matter at hand' so to speak, and his masturbation was being regularly interrupted by the awkward realisation that he had an audience.
Not that it could see him, he reminded himself. It was just following his body heat. Yet as he tried and tried to jerk off, all he could think about was the plant and how it now seemed hyper-fixated upon his cock.
Whenever he tried to clean up its purple salivations, the honey-like slime would inevitably get all over his hands. Washing it off was a fool's errand as it merely served to spread it further; the stuff was as tenacious as the plant's desires.
It always seemed to pool wherever he was going to be. That was because whenever he wasn't looking, the plant was drooling a copious amount of the stuff in strategic locations without his notice.
If he left anything within the plant's reach, or let any part of himself get near it, they would inevitably be coated in the stuff in moments. He had tested the substance a few times now for safety reasons, but had only been able to determine that it at least wasn't poisonous whatever it was. That was mostly due to the fact he hadn't gotten sick from the constant contact. Determining anything else was proving impossible.
Realistically, given his hands were coated in the stuff most of the time, he had no way of avoiding it getting into contact with his cock as he struggled to feed the thing multiple times a day. He had no choice, really. It was almost impossible to get it off his skin, and even when he managed to get semi-clean he'd always wind up touching more of it eventually and the cycle began again.
At first he had tried to ignore the electric feelings it left everywhere it touched, the tingling it sent through his whole body. Soon, though, he became a little less diligent in trying to wash up. He would leave a little more on his hands, deciding he couldn't be bothered to wash them over and over trying to remove it. He would 'accidentally' put his hand on the table and leave it there a little too long, and then accept that it wasn't worth trying to clean it again.
He wasn't really aware he was doing it, the boy would just realise time and again that he'd left his hand in the wrong place and give a not-entirely disappointed sigh.
However, once he'd tried jerking off with it he couldn't stop himself. It felt incredible. So slick, making everything feel so much better. That soon led to him experimentally using it as a lubricant when he thought the plant wasn't looking.
He knew it was just a plant. He knew it couldn't 'see', let alone understand what was going on. Still, he couldn't help feeling embarrassed at the thought it could see what he was doing as he gathered the slime into a jar and lavishly adorned his cock with it.
Wayne had to admit he loved how it felt. The purple goo left a divine feeling everywhere it touched. Maybe they could sell this stuff in the Garden of Eden, he mused. His skin felt smoother, more rich, more alive. Darlene was the expert on skin care products.
Assuming it was safe, of course. The purple stains on his cock were a testament to at least the rigorous testing he'd put it through.
Yet eventually, inevitably, he found himself exhausted. He fell back onto his bed; the human body had limits, and he had found his.
"I'm sorry. I only have so much to give." He whispered, utterly fatigued.
The bulb merely grinned at him with that smug, satisfied grin it always seemed to have.
It licked its thick, pillowy lips.
"The bigger you get, the more you're uh... going to need." He said, mostly to himself.
Talking to plants wasn't odd - he reassured himself - but thinking they could hear you was a sign you'd spent too much time around them.
