The Secret Ingredient

It took Lessie several hours to make it to the hospital where they kept her great aunt. She didn't understand why no one else wanted to visit aunt Lilith; her father had left only a curt message on the phone, saying that grand-father's estranged sister had fainted while shopping, and was now at the Saint-Gabriel hospital in the town nearest the cottage where she lived.

Lessie knew why they had called her to go though. Part of the reason was that she was the most "available" family member — having little to no commissions to fill — and that meant she had "free" time. Part of it was also that the strange woman favored her... always had. It was normal, considering Lessie was the only one who seemed to "get" her aunt's bizarreness.

They shared it.

"Yeah, honey, I just got off the phone with the doctor and it's not looking good." Over the phone, her father's deep voice had an uncharacteristic flutter to it.

"Aunt Lilith never wanted to go to the doctor." Lessie answered, finally stopping and pulling over. The sun was just starting to dip behind the mountains, stretching the bordering poplar trees' shadows across the road. The wind was picking up, making the thin shadows sway and a shiver went up her spine.

"Listen, Lessie. You're her favorite, everybody knows that," he paused, hesitant before he added, "This could be a chance for you, so take good care of her."

"A chance for what?" Then she knew. She had been struggling the whole five years since she had moved to the city. She always would. Her art had a... peculiar quality to it few people appreciated.

And her aunt Lili, well she had some money saved up, some investments and her book royalties brought in enough money for her to be independent. The cottage she lived in had a good chunk of forested land around it. And Lilith had no children of her own. She had never married.

There was a minute of soft static before Lessie spoke again. "I understand, dad."

*

"It's terminal. Your aunt doesn't even want treatment." Doctor Anvil spoke in an even tone. "If she hadn't fainted she probably would have died in her cottage and it could have been a while before someone went up there and found her." He looked contrite, like he had been personally snubbed by Mrs. Qelleon.

"Can I see her?" Lessie asked, "How much time does she have left?"

"You can, but you came at the end of visiting hours. We think she may have about a week."

"A week! Please, let me see her now."

When Lessie walked into the little private room, her great-aunt lay quiet, the lamp on the side table glowing softly, a book by her left hand, abandoned.

She opened her left eye; her right was black and swollen shut from hitting her head when she fell. She raised her hand in a little wave.

"Aunt Lili! I came as fast as I could. That's a terrible shiner you have there!" Lessie said as she placed the visitor chair, sat on it, and then grasped the older woman's hand. Her grip was still warm and strong, and it seemed unfair she was doomed.

Lilith laughed softly, the motion obviously a little painful. "Yeah I'm lucky I didn't break my jaw. I can't read like this though, so I'm not sure what's worse."

"I'm rather glad we'll get to talk before..." the words hung for a moment.

"Yes, you're right. I've written some things down, but there are things I have to tell you about. Personal things."

"Aunt Lili... you don't have to, I don't know..."

"Hush girl." The nurse came in. "Ah, here comes my dose of pain-killers. Mind-killers, if you ask me. Listen: you sleep at the cottage tonight. In the commode left of my writing desk you will find a box. I left you some instructions, it's important you read them. Go. Come back tomorrow, I will answer your questions."

*

The little cottage finally appeared in the headlights, the porch light reassuringly on. The key was hung inside the hollow in the hickory on the north side of the gravel drive, as it had been for years. The porch light had been left on, a golden light that made her feel welcome.

She hadn't come here in a while, but inside, few things had changed. Seasonal herbs hung to dry in the kitchen, clustered near the pots and pans. The table had a few gardening books piled up on one end - always had.

One cabinet door was off its hinges and the reason why her aunt had been in town that day, for some hardware and a few other supplies. She brought those in, the dry goods that had not wasted by the long wait, and put them away.

In the office she found the key to the commode where her aunt had instructed her and unlocked the row of drawers. Inside were handwritten notebooks. She took the one marked II and started reading it.

It was late when she went to bed, head spinning with information that seemed as fantastic as her aunt's novels were imaginative.

*

She could see the tree. Its height and its bluish tint was unmistakable. She walked towards it at a determined pace, decided to trust her aunt's instruction and keep an "open-mind" like she had been asked to.

...

The ground was a bit squishy, flexible. The moss seemed to have grown like a tapestry that covered most of the area and held it together. Then she saw it.

It looked like one of those stinkhorn mushrooms, phallic in shape, only it didn't stink and it was a rich blue hue fading from light to dark near the base.

Lessie took a breath and touched it. It was warm to the touch, warmer than it should have been for something that grew out of the ground, warmer than the spring air. She wrapped her hand around the shaft and gave it a little squeeze. It yielded but sprung back, it felt solid and full.

It wasn't a mushroom. Lessie ran the words through her mind again: "I have been taking care of it for 40 years. It has never hurt me. It's always rewarded me for my service."

She gave the blue shaft another squeeze and this time a little tug. Then a little stroke.

Then she felt it. A little pulse. The thing had a pulse!

It was big enough around to fill her hand and she stroked it some more, like her aunt had said. It pulsed and swelled a bit and then she felt a distinct throb and she took her hand away. The thing swelled some more, and grew in length in time to a pulsing rhythm. It is like a cock. She thought.

Suddenly, it moved! Instincts yelled at her to get up and run away from the thing that was as alien as anything that could come from a meteor, and yet.

And yet this thing lays golden eggs. I have to... to tame it. Lessie breathed through her nose to calm herself, excitement making her heart flutter. She looked at the "root" again. In the early sunlight it cast shimmery reflections from its blue-swirled body. It was smooth, so was its ovoid cap. That was light blue in color, translucent like marble. It seemed delicate but Lessie could squeeze it without damaging it.

Then she saw a drop of thick blue liquid ooze from its tip. That's it: that's the first offering. She gathered the drop on her fingers and brought it close to her face.

It glistened, a bit cloudy, warm on her skin. She didn't pick up a particular scent, then again, this area around the great tree was alive and damp and the rich soil held many woodsy smells. Another breath, and she tasted it.

It was a sweet, heady taste that warmed her tongue. It was reminiscent of seaweed too, a salty, slightly bitter aftertaste.

Like a mix of honey and seaweed, Lessie decided. Pleasant.

More had oozed out of the florid cap and Lessie gathered more on her finger, a sticky strand following for a couple inches before it broke and she licked the sweetness from her fingers. It warmed her throat and started a little fire in her belly.

Then she remembered something and spat on her fingers, and let the drop fall onto the little opening at the top.

After a moment the drop of spit was sucked into the root, then the root itself seemed to pull back into the ground. She waited, but nothing more happened. The pact had been signed in fluids. She stood and made back for the cottage.

*

She looked down at the river, less than a mile away. She looked around the valley again, the nearest neighbour was barely a stream of smoke, a chimney, miles away. She lay the blanket before the little clump of mushrooms before her. She counted three, of various sizes and shapes but all in shades of blue. She kneeled, chose one, and began to caress it. It pulsed in her hand, and soon produced that drop of sweet serum and she gathered it, letting its taste coat her tongue. It had a slight narcotic effect she realized; euphoric, even.

I have to give it some more of my moisture, she remembered, and leaned over the one she was caressing and let a drop of spit fall from her lips, onto the round cap.

The thing twisted a bit, trying to pick it up, then the opening seemed to gape slightly, and she grasped the shaft and held it steady while she spat directly into that little cleft. It shivered in her hand.

Lessie's body shivered in response. It was becoming more and more obvious what she had to do.

'They never hurt me,' her aunt said, 'so it was a good exchange.'

Lessie gave it a full-length pump, and it throbbed in her hand. It was calling to her instincts, but in a way that had not been anticipated by evolution on earth. Yet.

She leaned her face closer to it and picked up a soft but pungent scent like fresh, male mammal musk. In forty years, the thing had learned to adapt to its symbiote.

Lessie finally lay down on her stomach, and kissed the florid cap.

It thrilled under her lips and she felt good that she was pleasing it. She gave it a few licks, picking up more of the heady serum, and a sudden thirst took her and she took the whole cap into her mouth, giving it a little suck. The feedback felt good on her tongue which was not quite numb, but rather more sensitive than normal; a new pleasure had been revealed. Her tongue tickled and she sucked at the cap avidly, rolling it in her mouth, thrusting over it, swallowing the trickle of syrup, letting it tingle in her throat, until it clenched.

She deep-throated it and the trickle became a spurt. She drank it in, her mind falling into a kind of trance, and knew what the next step was.

She reached with her free hand into her cotton jogging pants, into her underwear. She had an offering of fluids of her own, ready and abundant. She gathered what she could on her fingers and brought them to the pulsing tendrils.

They swiveled to meet them, as if recognizing the gift by scent, by pheromone. They seemed to stretch to find her fingers and when they neared, the little clefts opened more and felt blindly for the moisture, found it, and sucked it clean.

Lessie throbbed in her underwear. 'Oh!' she gasped. The potential of this creature's abilities were... seducing her. She leaned in to lick at the new drops of serum dripping and felt it kiss at her tongue at the same time that she was sucking at its bulbous head.

She looked around, saw a fourth feeler push through the moss, about an arms length away from the others. She reached in the clump before her for a second stem and started to stroke it as well.

She was dizzy from the serum but still confident. When the feelers started to grow out of the ground, longer and longer, she remained calm, letting them reach her. One slipped under her t-shirt, another wrapped around her wrist that was jerking the one she was sucking. Another, further down, found her ankle and gently wrapped around it.

She let them. She let the one into her shirt caress her, softly kiss with its puckered orifice at her skin, moving up her torso like no boyfriend ever had. It would be worth the surrender, her aunt had said. The one in her shirt pushed at her bra and Lessie let go of one appendage to free her breasts for the tendril to find unconstrained. When it did, it seemed to flatten out and just caress her for a moment until it found a nipple, and then rounded its tip again and stretched its aperture open to suck it in.

Lessie closed her eyes. It was an intense feeling, yet gentle. No teeth, all-muscle, it was suckling at her and sending currents up and down her body in small waves of undeniable pleasure. She lay her head down in the moss, releasing the shaft she had been pleasuring for the moment. It popped up, swaying as if drunk itself, and pulsed in rhythm with its fellow spawn. More came out of the ground, some tentatively as if shy, others more bold, and Lessie hummed a soft tune under her breath, like a snake charmer.

Tentacles found her feet and wrapped around her legs, following them up under her pants to her apex and she sighed and slowed her breathing more. One wrapped around her throat and she trembled slightly when it tightened, and it picked up on her discomfort and loosened, just caressing her where it reached near her ear, kissing her softly, then flattening and licking her. Bigger, stronger tentacles appeared and wrapped around her waist and she felt embraced.

The things moved all over her, warm, moist vines in the sunny patch of mossy ground at the foot of the huge tree. She felt content, but she knew more was coming.

Finally, finally, one reached her core. She tilted her hips and the ones holding her thighs tightened and pulled at her just so, adding a tension she didn't know she needed. It twisted against the damp fabric, pushing and seeking a way in, hitting her swollen clit until Lessie was panting in synch with the thing's effort. Just as she loosened a hand to reach inside her pants to help, it found its way under the fabric.

Her folds were overflowing with slick; the feeler twisted in it, coating itself in her juices, flattening itself and then... laving at her like a tongue.

That was too much. That was just what was needed. Lessie climaxed, hard.

The tendrils around her suddenly became very excited, rubbing and petting her more, plying her like a massage by ten warm, strong hands, easing her through the sensation. There was a tenderness to their caress like she had never felt. She cried, years of frustration releasing through the orgasm. The tendrils slowed and just held her.

*

She woke after a while, high noon sun too hot on her and her stomach grumbling for something solid. All the feelers had receded into the ground. She got to her feet, a bit wobbly, and left. In her mind floated images and scenes of fantastic landscapes and creatures in vivid details, and that confirmed where some of her aunt's inspiration had come from. She couldn't wait to start painting them.

*

"If you go again tomorrow, they will expect you to carry out the rest of the bargain." Aunt Lilith was barely holding on. Lessie got a feeling she was only waiting to make sure the pact was concluded before she released her hold on life.

"What if I don't?"

"Oh, I guess they will continue to please you a few more times... then they will stop," she warned, "and you will lose their gift. Remember when I went on that trip around the world?" Lessie nodded. When I came back, it took me over a week to tame it again. They wouldn't even come out to greet me at first." It was unclear whether it was 'it' or 'them', and Lessie figured it didn't matter.

*

When she went again, she saw they had expected her. The moss bed was soft and clean of leaves and twigs and bugs; she wouldn't need her blanket. A few "mushrooms" circumscribed a roughly elliptical area maybe two feet wide by three feet long. She could see recesses in the moss where more tendril were hidden just below the surface, dormant.

She had worn a light dress, summer having finally decided to impose its will on the countryside. She had brought a light snack and a towel with her. Her phone was turned off. She wore thick leather boots for the walk. She looked down the hill to the little river below. It would be a short, but difficult walk.

She found her "preferred" one at the top of the ellipsis, the one she guessed must have been the first found and interacted with. The 'lure' for a trap that promises more than it demands. Unless today proves to ask of me more than I can give, she wondered, hoping for the better outcome.

She knelt inside the cleared area and lightly nudged the light-blue cap and it shivered at her touch, pulsing and already a bead of juice oozing from its cap. She quickly gathered it and greedily sucked on her fingers, the sweet effect starting almost immediately. She lay on her stomach again to take the sensual feeler into her mouth almost right away.

While the one she sucked on pulsed and fed her that intoxicating serum, the others around her sprang into action; she was lying in the middle of an anemone, one that would lavish her instead of devouring her.

The tentacles wrapped around her body, holding and caressing her, some kissing her back, some playing in her hair. The tendrils had many shapes they could morph into, sometimes pointy and agile, sometimes blunt and robust; some were smooth, some were textured — ribbed or covered in bumps. Leaf-like flats or tube-like heads all promised something different to Lessie.

Two sucker-like tendrils found her breasts and opened their apertures as wide as they could to take as much of the soft flesh as they could. They held with a soft suction. Two others...

She closed her eyes, not needing to see what the things were doing to her. Both had definitely flattened and crept under her underwear and were twisting about in the flowing juices already gathered between her folds. Lessie released the current focus of her attention to fully feel how the two seemed to vye for entry.

They pushed in together, and she cried out. Flat and thin, they pushed forward and wiggled, already brushing against her g-spot and Lessie fought to keep her composure. She clenched and unclenched a few times and they moved away, but then their shapes changed again and she felt them twist together into a vise and swell — and swell — until they filled all the space available inside her. And then they started thrusting inside her.

She was being well and truly fucked by a plant-like space alien, and it was definitely a heavenly feeling. Her aunty had worked hard and saved money and bought this plot of land and moved in and never left again, except in the dead of winter, in time for Christmas, and she completely understood why.

Another slim one found and latched itself onto her clit. It took in into its tube-like mouth, and just held it through the barest of suction, gentle and maddening all at one.

She moaned in sync with the pounding she was taking until the vines split apart, stretching her open as far as she could go, and she felt a new tentacle bump against her folds. It was clearly bigger than the ones before. Lessie opened her eyes and craned her neck to look at this new intruder.

It was beautiful. Blunt, smooth, richly colored in a marble of deep indigo and pearl white; it bumped against her again, it rubbed up and down her folds, spurting that blue serum, slicking itself.

Lessie raised her ass in the air, bracing herself. The thing started pushing in.

It was a stretch. It didn't get far in before the stretch became a burn, and her hips almost involuntarily jerked away from the breach.

It was too much.

She let herself drop with a little disappointed grunt, and the beautiful thing fell heavily across her rump, as if understanding her limit. Maybe next time?

The ones at her breasts decided now was the time to become more active, as the one on her clit, while the ones in front of her face stood before her, demanding attention, oozing their narcotic syrup. She stroked to milk them and licked and sucked at them as the others licked and sucked at her and she stopped fighting the rising orgasm.

She climaxed, squirming into the soft moss, moaning loudly. All around her, tentacles squirted their liquid ecstasy in bluish ropes.

As she lay slightly dazed on her side, the sucking tendrils released her, and the bigger tentacle moved up to snuggle into her arms. It was a reassuring form, firm and hefty between her thighs and reaching to between her breasts. When she could move again, Lessie stroked it softly, watching it squirm and twist to her attention, appreciating the caress.