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I've been looking for this story for ages. It disappeared from Lit a while back.
It was about a girl who uses surgery and bodymod to literally transform her pussy into a flower. Like stretching her clit into a stem or prolapsing her cervix to look like the center of the flower.
Anyone remember, or better yet have it saved?


I have it saved somewhere. Its by Falquian and it's called "Daisy and the Cuntflower"


Yes!! That's the one! if you could post it, I'm sure it would be appreciated my many, and definitely by me. I can find it anywhere, even with the name..


can't* find it



Chapter 1

It all began with the bees and the flowers. Daisy remembered very well the day her mother had called her to the couch to have that conversation dreaded by all parents worldwide. The day had begun pretty much like every other day in the life of a first grader. She had gone to school like every other day, played with her friends like every other day, showed her homework like every other day, and so on and so forth. Nothing was out of the ordinary, until the very moment when Mike had opened his backpack and got out a strange magazine smuggled from the room of his older brother, in the lifelong tradition of meddling younger siblings.

Daisy had only barely peeked at the glossy pages of the magazine, displaying photos of naked people dancing, or something along those lines, when Ms Madison, their teacher, had noticed the ruckus and took poor Mike and his contraband magazine to the principal’s office.

Little Daisy couldn’t understand what was all the fuss about, with parents being called left and right and teachers acting like mother hens, clucking here and there. What changed her life forever, though, was the talk with her mother about that subject. At that moment in her life it just seemed a confusing explanation about bees and flowers and her coochie and her dad’s weenie and where children came from. It made little sense, and she wasn’t paying much attention.

However, one concept from that conversation hit home harder than the rest, lodging firmly in her undeveloped but pliable mind, never to leave again: her coochie was a flower.

That night, after her mom had neatly brushed her long auburn tresses and tucked her blankets in, she was unable to sleep thanks to that idea repeating on a loop again and again. Flustered without knowing why, Daisy turned on the light of her room, took the small mirror from her toy makeup set and examined her coochie, or vagina, like her mother had called it, with utmost attention. Peeling the fat soft outer lips away, she looked interested at the velvety pink folds, the holes that went inside her body, and the little nub that crowned the ensemble. The awkward manipulations left her with two important conclusions.

Number one: her coochie did indeed resemble a flower somehow, albeit it seemed closed and sleeping like the flower buds daddy had showed her that time when she had visited the botanical garden.

Number two: it felt strangely good touching herself down there.

That day was the beginning of what would become a lifelong obsession for Daisy with the flowers and her genitals, linking those two concepts forever with chains of steel forged in the fires of her loins.

In the following weeks, Daisy switched her childish interest from princesses and ponies to flowers. Since it was as girly as anyone would want, her parents went along her change of tastes and showered her with every kind of flowery memorabilia. Her notebooks, the walls of her room, her furniture, clothes, toys… everything became covered with flowers of every color, size and shape. And in the solitude of her room, playing with her vagina, surrounded by flowers everywhere, her mind warped further and further.

All along that month, she would devour botanical and anatomical books in the library of her school, finally setting all those confusing concepts, which her mom had tried to explain so poorly, straight. The reality of the true purpose, similarities and differences of the reproductive organs of plants and humans did little to shake the idea that had solidified inside her mind during that fateful night. Her coochie was destined to be a flower, it needed to be a flower, it begged her to bloom in beauty, color and fragrance. And if nature hadn’t designed it that way, maybe it was up to her to set wrongs right.

In a short time, it became evident for everyone around her that little Daisy had always been an undetected precocious genius. Unbeknownst to everyone, she had only needed the proper motivation to set her mental gears running full throttle. However, her newly found brilliance soon made her wary of what she revealed about her true desire. For her awakened mind it was obvious that the object of her feverish dreams was supposed to be taboo for someone her age, so she put her brain to work in ways to increase her knowledge without alerting everyone.

It was laughably easy. Her parents were so doting on her perfect child genius, trusting her so much, that they allowed little Daisy to be alone in her room with her new laptop and a high speed internet connection, and only a stock parental filter to protect her from the nastiness of the World Wide Web.

After disabling the filter and learning in record time how to erase her traces, she began searching for ways of modifying her body with flowers. The first words she tried in her search bar were “body”, “modification” and “flower”, and the first thing she learned was about tattoos. The tattoos lead to piercings, and the piercings to scarifications, and scarifications to surgical mods, and surgical mods to hormones, and everything lead to hentai, transformations, and all kind of bizarre sexual experiences. The overflow of porn found a cozy corner in her mind, next to her obsession with flowers, and moved in, never to leave again.

Those evenings of pretend homework, alone in her room, became masturbatory sessions when she would rub her little clit and finger her small vagina until she cried tears of pleasure. Sore, but satisfied, she would go to bed and dream about her genitals transforming into a flower and blooming gloriously.

That routine settled in for the following years. Her obsession grew alongside her frustration for being incapable to carry it on. Being so young meant that nobody with the knowledge and experience she coveted would work on her. Finally, on her twelfth birthday, sick and tired of being always denied, she decided to take a leap of faith and risk everything for her dream.

After browsing the most reputable extreme body modification forums, she created a fake adult persona and set her plan into motion.
Blackraven2 12-Jul-16 16:31 # 6115 Up to top Down to bottom
++ on that story :) Body mods are awesome! Peel those petals open for us, little flower!
Anonymous 12-Jul-16 17:21 # 6118 Up to top Down to bottom
Not my thing, but i'm still curious what's next
Anonymous 13-Jul-16 03:13 # 6136 Up to top Down to bottom
Really looking forward to more!
Anonymous 13-Jul-16 07:54 # 6142 Up to top Down to bottom
Huh. That was a nice build up. I'm really curious what happens next.
Anonymous 13-Jul-16 07:56 # 6143 Up to top Down to bottom
Somewhat relevant. This is from Zazel.
Falquian 13-Jul-16 08:27 # 6144 Up to top Down to bottom
Chapter 2

With nervous excitement and fear at the thought of getting caught, Daisy began delving deep into the bodymod community, asking honest questions, giving insightful advice and making friends with as many people as she could. At the tender age of twelve, and thanks to her efforts into not getting discovered, Daisy had achieved an expert knowledge of computer tech, to the point she could be considered a very apt programmer.

That tech savviness allowed the little minx to avoid the worst predators and the law enforcement as well, and made a good solid foundation when she submerged for the first time in the deep web. In a matter of months, she had made herself a small name within the hacker community and, through them, she got access to the most graphic imagery of body modification, pictures and videos often shielded by pay walls she could not circumvent legally.

It had to be noted that if she wasn’t the best hacker around it was mainly because her mind was mostly occupied with sexual fantasies around the object of her insane obsession. She lost her vaginal virginity to a marker the year after she began masturbating, and her anal virginity to another marker a year after that. Through porn she learned about the spots that gave women pleasure, and she became an adept at that art thanks to the lengthy night sessions playing with her body in different ways.

The result was that she experienced some subtle changes at odds with her childish body. For example, her nipples, which had been just flat pinkish dimes in her washboard chest, became permanently puffy and erect thanks to the frequent tugging and twisting and pulling she did on them, steadily increasing the pressure, oblivious to pain in her orgiastic deliriums.

Likewise, her clit had received the same treatment and had grown a little from what should have been normal for her age and body. It wasn’t too obvious, or her parents would have suspected something amiss but, for her trained eyes, the difference was there.

Her labia, the outer as well as the inner lips, also had grown from an excessive rough manipulation, and their engorged shape when she became excited made them part sweetly, dripping nectar and showing a glimpse of the hole that they had been created to protect.

It wasn’t enough. It was never enough. The pleasure had became a drug for her, like it did for so many people, and she needed bigger doses each time to reach the same peaks. Her hazel eyes welled with tears of frustration whenever she noticed that the manipulations that had brought her to orgasm not a month ago weren’t enough to scratch the surface of her itches nowadays. She would often silently cry herself to sleep, her long auburn hair concealing her head from the inquisitive eyes of her mom and dad.

And, to top the growing pile of her frustrations, she wasn’t closer to her goal of making her vagina a flower than what she had been in the beginning. With growing horror, she discovered how her carefully crafted plans to modify her coochie always met with accusations of insanity, petitions to seek psychiatric help or threats of calling the authorities. And that was even while disguising her identity as that of an adult. It was simply too extreme, too dangerous. No reputable bodymodder would risk jail for giving her what she wanted, and the disreputable ones demanded so much money as to make the offer ridiculous. She was penniless, but not even her parents had that kind of money lying around.

Six months into her twelfth year, and she was already considering learning methods to perform the procedures on herself, when she received a mysterious anonymous email without address in her inbox. As she read it carefully, slowly, her heart thumped faster and faster in her chest, threatening to escape her body.

“Dear miss FlowerCuntF’eva, or should we say, Daisy. Your efforts to reach the world of truly extreme body modifications had moved us deeply. It takes a valiant and resolute heart for someone as awfully young as you to put so much work into what we all agree seems to be a lifelong dream, no matter how short that life might have been thus far.

Your efforts in concealing your identity, as well as your academic achievements and your way of expressing yourself marks you as a mature individual, conscious of the weight of her decisions and worthy of attaining her goal. You will not get what you want alone and, in the worst case, you might die from the procedure. We, on the other hand, have pieced your plans together from the scattered info you have been leaving around and believe, with the proper adjustments, to be a feasible undertaking, especially with our means and expertise.

We offer our help freely to people like you but, as with everything worthwhile in life, such things come with a prize, even if it’s not monetary. The end result of your procedure, as designed by yourself, will make you unable to function normally in society, and also expose our little organization into the hateful eye of the public opinion. We can’t afford that and, therefore, if you commit yourself to this, you will have to leave your family and friends behind, never to see them again. We will grant you a new life, away from everyone you know and love, but you will get what you want and even more.

Read this email carefully and burn it in your mind, because as soon as you close the browser window, the email will be automatically deleted without trace. If you agree, in a week from today, make a detour through the park when returning home from school, alone. You won’t need anything from your old life, so pack only your normal school gear. Don’t tell anyone, don’t alert anyone, trust us, and you will get what you want.

Yours truly. The Daphne Directorate.”

Daisy had developed a very good memory. She committed the words to her brain and closed the tab. As soon as she opened her inbox again, the message had disappeared as they had said it would. No method she tried allowed her to recover the message or trace the source. In the following days, she sometimes doubted her own sanity, believing the mail a fabrication of her delirious mind.

It was simply too good to be true, and the consequences of it being true too horrifying to contemplate. She loved her parents as much as anyone else, but an insidious thought looped again and again in her mind. If she declined the invitation, if she lost the opportunity, she was sure her unfulfilled dreams would destroy her in the long place.

It was the riskiest gamble she would ever take in her life, she was sure of that. However, as she sidetracked her friends on the way back home and headed to the park the designated day, she knew that in her heart the decision had been taken long ago.
Falquian 13-Jul-16 08:39 # 6145 Up to top Down to bottom
I'm glad my little new written endeavour is gathering so much praise. I hope you will enjoy reading the story as much as I am doing writing it.

>>6143 It's relevant, and somewhat close to what I have in mind. I might have to make a drawing of the end result myself to convey the true scope of Daisy's plans.

Narra Avlan 13-Jul-16 14:19 # 6149 Up to top Down to bottom
Mmmh, nice buildup. One question: what's Mg on the tag means? Can't figure it out.
Narra Avlan 13-Jul-16 14:19 # 6150 Up to top Down to bottom
Mmmh, nice buildup. One question: what's Mg on the tag means? Can't figure it out.
Falquian 13-Jul-16 16:43 # 6152 Up to top Down to bottom
>>6150 Thanks, it's standard story code for the main participants. 'M' (adult male) and 'g'(preteen girl) with a further age clarification (12).

For your info, the standard people codes are 'M' and 'F' (adult male and female), 'm' and 'f' (teen male and female) and 'b' and 'g' (preteen male (boy) and preteen female (girl)).
Anonymous 13-Jul-16 17:46 # 6154 Up to top Down to bottom
Looking forward to more…
Oniros 13-Jul-16 17:58 # 6155 Up to top Down to bottom
Nice start ! Can't wait for more. :)


It's also the symbol and atomic number of Magnesium. :p
PsychoAiko 14-Jul-16 06:21 # 6167 Up to top Down to bottom
Not that I disapprove in any way, but might any of this have been inspired by my story "The Village and the Girl with the Vision?"

>>6152 Hm. I never knew it was that standardized.

Falquian 14-Jul-16 07:57 # 6168 Up to top Down to bottom
>>6167 Well, this story is a retelling of some incomplete storylines and concepts abandoned from some of my older scripts and stories.

Apart from the flower name, it really doesn't have many things in common with your story. This is about a girl wanting to modify her genitals to resemble a flower via 'realistic' means (as in: procedures and substances that can or could be found in the real world, with a small wriggle room to get more fantastic results) so it will involve tattooing, scarification, surgery, hormones… (hence the tag body modification, instead of sci-fi). Yours was about a parasitic worm infecting people's brains, so it has more in common with my story about Heather than with this one.
Falquian 14-Jul-16 09:52 # 6170 Up to top Down to bottom
Also, I believe the codes originated at, but soon extended into every adult story network because of their usefulness.

You can find a very comprehensive list here:
Falquian 15-Jul-16 10:29 # 6189 Up to top Down to bottom
Chapter 3

The small park was in the middle of her way home, just a three minutes detour from the usual eight minutes walk to the school. It also was usually deserted at those hours, which was surely the main reason it had been chosen for the rendezvous. The amount of information those people had on her was staggering, and that fact was the only thing that eased her fears a little about the upcoming encounter.

If those people wanted to just kidnap or kill her, they would have been able to do so effortlessly. That they had contacted her and offered an alternative lowered the odds of the arrangement being an elaborate trap. Lowered, but not eliminated. The thrill of the unknown moistened Daisy’s white laced panties, leaving her bewildered and flustered.

While she walked the sandy path between the trees, she thought about how desolated her mom and dad would be by her disappearance. She hoped that they would recover in time but, at her tender age, she didn’t fully understand the devastating psychological trauma she was about to willingly inflict on them. Besides, the tiny voice of her consciousness was promptly silenced by the blood rush generating from her loins.

When she reached the end of the park, Daisy froze in her tracks, a shiver of fear running up her spine and drenching her in cold sweat. There was a shiny black limo parked in the back entrance of the park, and an elegant elderly man in butler’s attire held one of the doors open in invitation.

That was it. The moment of truth. The last chance to turn back and forget that illicit affair. The opportunity to go back to her doting parents, her good friends, and the prospect of a future career as a computer engineer.

The option to return to a life where her vagina wasn’t a flower, and wasn’t likely to ever be.

She took a step forward, and then another, and soon she reached the opened door and entered the shadowed interior of the luxurious limo.

“Welcome, Daisy”

The seated man that had ushered those words was an attractive fellow, maybe the age of his father, dressed in a very elegant two-piece suit. He had a neat salt peppered hair cut very short, and a kind smile that reflected also in his black eyes. Daisy felt relieved without knowing why, so she seated in front of him while the butler closed the door. Soon after, the limo started and they began moving towards God knew where.

“Want a drink? Maybe some juice?” he asked, politely

“Yes please. Peach, if you have it” she answered, her throat suddenly very, very dry.

Without a word, the mysterious man opened a concealed door in the opposite side, revealing a chilly minibar. The small fridge was chock full of juice bottles, of the flavors and brands she favored the most. Another proof, if she needed any, that those people, those Daphne fellows, knew everything about her.

Slowly, the suited man took a glass from another hidden compartment and poured the fresh juice inside, offering the full glass to a very thirsty and excitedly scared Daisy.

“I suppose you have a lot of questions for me. About whom we are and why do we want you.”

Daisy nodded, enjoying the cold syrupy juice moistening her throat on its way down.

“Our organization, the Daphne Directorate” he began, showing her the seal engraved on a heavy ring in his left hand, an ornate letter D surrounded by laurel leaves “began as a gathering of wealthy men with, let’s say, deviant interests. We are few, but very devoted to what we do”

“And what do you do?” Daisy asked with genuine, if amused, curiosity.

“We seek individuals with interests akin to ours, and help them fulfill their innermost desires”

“Why? What do you gain from that?”

“Entertainment, my little lady. When you have as much money as we do, there are precious few things that are forbidden or out of our reach. In time, even the most exclusive shows become dull and boring and repetitive” he explained with a hint of disgust in his soft, basso voice.

“And why am I interesting? I’m a nobody, and you know that”

“Do you know the myth of Daphne?”

Daisy nodded in acquiescence. Since that day when she had received the email, she had investigated a bit. Daphne had been a nymph transformed by a Greek god into a laurel tree to protect her chastity from another Greek god.

“We seek those individuals willing to cast away their humanity, or parts of it, at least. We help them along the process and derive pleasure from seeing the results. Yours is a special case, though, as we have never helped someone so young. You are incredible, Daisy, and you should be proud of that. Only a handful of people reach that far.”

Despite herself, Daisy beamed with pride. Nobody had ever acknowledged her for harboring desires so deviant. That her secret wish was desired and cherished lifted a weight from her chest and cast away her fears for the time being.

The mysterious man took a handful of papers from a folder at his side and presented them to the amazed girl. She accepted them and began looking at the diagrams and explanations written there. Soon, it became obvious that the papers were a detailed account of all her plans for her coochie, with some additions that sparked her interest further.

“I never thought about this!” she said, pointing to the relevant diagram “Or this!”

“Our resident doctors think it’s possible and have devised a plan to make it real. I agree with them that it’s a marked improvement from your initial plan. And one that will make your genitals completely resemble a flower.”

“I love it!” Daisy squealed excitedly. She should have thought about it herself, but who could have known such a thing was even possible?

The mysterious man smiled at her childish delight, his hands crossed above his crotch to hide his raging boner. Suddenly, the limo stopped and he turned serious again.

“Well miss. In honor to your cheerful spirit, I offer you one last chance to back down and leave. If you say so, you will exit this limo and never hear about us again. However, if you decide to stay, you will live with me, subject to my authority and my desires. And I must warn you, I will expect complete obedience in all matters, and the punishments will be harsh if I’m disobeyed”

Daisy looked at his eyes and saw danger, pain and death behind the gentle façade. He fears returned again redoubled, but the diagrams she was holding convinced her that no sacrifice was too much to achieve her desire. In front of her was the possibility of death, behind her was a life devoid of her dream, a veritable living death.

“Take me with you. I’m yours” she said, her heart heavy with finality.

“A courageous decision” he nodded “I’m Anthony, and I will be your new father from now on. Welcome to the Daphne Directorate”
Falquian 18-Jul-16 07:21 # 6218 Up to top Down to bottom
Chapter 4

Daisy lived in a secluded outskirts community, with thick forests surrounding the gated complexes that isolated them from the city suburbia. It was easy for any vehicle to get lost in some of the winding roads that crisscrossed the different dormitory towns around the main city. Despite that, a limo like Anthony’s was bound to catch a few interested stares. Stares that would later prove inconvenient if one wanted to avoid law enforcers.

That was the probably the reason for the long but narrow limo suddenly being hauled inside a truck in one of those deserted roads, Knight Rider style. The truck resumed the trip, with the limo inside its belly, and them inside the limo.

“We know what we are doing, Daisy” Anthony answered the unspoken question “The traffic cameras have been conveniently hacked and looped at our passing, and there were no witnesses around when you first entered this vehicle. Cops will have a hard time sniffing our trail and when they do, if they do, the trail will be so cold that they won’t ever find you”

“And what if I escape?” she said, unable to contain her sassy mouth.

“Do you like your new ring?” the older man said, amused.

“I do!” she said, and she meant it. After giving herself to him, he had produced a copy of his D ring from a pocket and presented it to her with great ceremony, as if it was a wedding ring. The heavy seal weighted deliciously in her left hand, with the ornate, leafy letter. “But what has the ring to do with me escaping?”

“That ring has a tracking device inserted inside” he pointed at the jewel “If you try to escape, or the signal is lost for whatever reason, or you try to tamper with it, destroy it or remove it from your finger, then a small needle loaded with a very potent neurotoxin will kill you on the spot”

Daisy looked at the heavy ring, now turned into an indestructible set of shackles, with undiluted terror. The overwhelming need to remove it threatened to kill her on the spot. Knowing that you will have to live the rest of your life with a kill switch could do terrible things to a child’s sanity. Thankfully, Anthony gripped her hands tightly, giving her time to breathe and let the panic attack pass.

“We have to protect our lifestyle, and I really hoped you would understand our point of view. You are not a slave, but we can’t risk it” he pleaded, genuinely distressed.

Daisy, now calmer, looked at him in the eyes. The dangerous look behind the gentle smile and face was still there, but she could somehow feel that the steely eyes hid something else, like a multilayered onion.

“I understand, please, release me”

Anthony did, and the rest of the trip was uneventful. Daisy told him about her life and how her obsession had developed and grew. She even told him about her sexual experiments, not even a bit embarrassed, to her surprise, to be talking about such private matters so openly with a complete stranger.

Daisy’s new ‘father’ told her about her new identity and her new home, a luxurious mansion far removed from any major city centre with vast tracts of land surrounding the complex and warding the state from curious eyes. The scarce personnel had been selected for their undying loyalty, tolerance to deviant sexual behavior and, in some cases, for being former recruits of the Directorate.

As Anthony told her some anecdotes about the antics of the maids and butlers, he managed to turn Daisy red to the roots of her hair. Her sexual discoveries were just child’s play compared to some of the things that transpired behind the closed doors of Anthony’s retreat.

They also reviewed extensively the files about her impending modifications, and he answered as well as he could all her questions about the new additions.

“Yes, Daisy, you are very smart. If you approve that modification, you won’t be able to have children, ever”

“I don’t care anymore. The more I see those drawings, the more I want to see it through the end. I have gambled everything, my whole self into this. I won’t go back.”

“I’m glad to hear that. It will be painful, you know, right?”

“I said I don’t care!” she screamed out of the blue “My body is yours, do with me whatever you want! Just… just give me my desire…” she sobbed, all her repressed feelings, frustration, fear, loneliness… crashing down on her at once.

Anthony hugged and calmed the crying girl as best as he could, whispering sweet nothings on her ear to lull her to sleep. It had been a very stressful day for a girl that young, he understood perfectly her need for release. Nonetheless, he also was adamant on taking that promise of free reins on her body at face value.

Anthony was a raging pedophile through and through. He could enjoy older women of course, and he did it, frequently, but the reason he had volunteered himself for that assignment would become evident for Daisy soon enough. If what her psychosexual profile said was right, she would be a very willing and active partner if handled right.

He marveled, for the umpteenth time, at how a girl so young could have brainwashed herself so effectively. All the analysts agreed about that: it had sufficed a genius level intelligence and a latent compulsive personality disorder to take an innocent idea, acquired at the wrong time, and escalate it to the level of insanity she displayed then. It would be his work to cultivate that obsession and make it reach its finer heights.

The truck finally reached its destination, a small private airport in the countryside. The limo disembarked from the truck and the Daphne Directorate member left the jet black vehicle for the shiny jet parked in the runway, carrying the sleeping newest addition of the society on his arms.

The videos of her transformation would gather a legendary status between the Directorate members, he was sure of that. A girl so young and delicate being on the receiving end of such a drastic, albeit exceedingly beautiful modification would harden cocks for years to come.

While he climbed the stairs of the state of the art jet, Anthony smiled inwardly at the pleasure he would derive corrupting further the poor insane girl until she reached the climax of perversion. And if that wasn’t enough of a bonus, the Directorate would nourish her computer abilities, polishing them with the best teachers. In the future, even after having achieved her dreams and providing them with countless hours of entertainment, she would keep working in the always needed field of the new technologies.

As he dropped carefully the insensate preteen in a comfortable couch and glimpsed her drenched panties, he couldn’t suppress a hearty laugh thinking about the special chair she would need to work for more than a minute in front of a computer when all her mods were completed.
astro 18-Jul-16 14:53 # 6223 Up to top Down to bottom
Nice chapter. How many more chapters of story plot is there. Also, will there be any extreme fetishes like in your last story, fallopian tube play, for instance.
Falquian 18-Jul-16 16:21 # 6224 Up to top Down to bottom
>>6223 Thanks astro. I have started chapter 8. The action will start on chapter 6, but I usually revise very carefully the chapters before posting, so it might take some time till we get there. Stay tuned :).
There will be extreme body modifications, but I have decided to create a procedure that could be realistically implemented in real life, if you could find doctors insane enough to carry it on. I have investigated the medical procedures, and every substance, drug and surgical method you will read is real and could actually be performed.
PsychoAiko 19-Jul-16 08:50 # 6230 Up to top Down to bottom
>>6224 I like the sound of that! Believability makes a story like this so much better.
Anonymous 19-Jul-16 17:51 # 6235 Up to top Down to bottom
Woah, I'm really curious what happens next! What exactly is she going to do with her cunt that could actually be realistic?
Falquian 20-Jul-16 07:25 # 6242 Up to top Down to bottom
Chapter 5

Daisy didn’t even fidget during the flight. Anthony had taken advantage of her unconscious state to inject her with a sedative that ensured she wouldn’t wake up during the lengthy trip back home. Eight hours later, a groggy girl woke up slowly in the seat of another limo identical to the one they had abandoned earlier; never imagining that she had rode a plane and switched vehicles.

“How much time I’ve been asleep?” she said, rubbing her puffy eyes.

“I’d say about six or seven hours, daughter” Anthony said with emphasis in the last word, half jokingly, half seriously.

Daisy got the joke quickly and smiled. It was going to take some time for her to begin calling Anthony ‘Dad’, but the idea of replacing her loving parents for this largely unknown man somehow thrilled her. The dangerous aura around Anthony made her remember the fear of being caught she had felt while looking at porn or surfing the deep web, and his obvious familiarity with her sexuality became the bittersweet forbidden fruit. The power that that man had over her was intoxicating, and it moistened her panties.

“Why have we stopped?” Daisy asked, curiosity trumping desire.

“I wanted you to be awake for this. We have finally arrived at your new home”

“Really? Can I go see?”

“Of course, be my guest” Anthony said, opening the door of the limo for her.

The now fully alert girl sprang out of the limo like a ball of youthful energy and was promptly mesmerized by the sight of a beautiful Victorian style mansion of three bodies surrounded by incredibly tall pines in a mountainous setting that seemed lifted rock for rock from a fairy tale.

It was already dark but multiple lamps illuminated the road and house, glittering like stars and giving light to see, although not as blindingly bright as the ones back in the streets of her town did.

However, what shocked her the most were the four women dressed in French maid attire that stood in two rows at the sides of the huge main doors. Their dresses, made of black satin with white lace and frills, exposed large parts of their anatomy to the chilly air. In the span of a second, she had seen more live nudity than her biological father had in all his life. However, the exposed breasts, bellies and vaginas weren’t the things that surprised her the most.

None of the young women smiling at her had a standard body as she had seen in the anatomy text books and most porn. Every last of them looked like they had been lifted directly from the body modification pictures and videos she had seen and masturbated to.

The first girl beginning from the left was completely tattooed with a motif of green scales all over a body devoid of any hair, not even in her head. Her eyes were green with two slit pupils, the tongue that sometimes licked her lips was bifurcated and her titties had no nipples that she could see.

The second one, a brunette like her, was absurdly pale, so white that she almost glowed in the dim light of the porch. Daisy could have sworn that she could see the blue of her veins crisscrossing under the skin, but her most striking feature were her six breasts, three each side down to her waist.

The third maid, a stunning blonde, was the most normal of the bunch, if you didn’t take into account the huge rings that dangled from her nose, ears, nipples, clitoris and labia. Each of them shiny steel, and weighting so much that they stretched the flesh obscenely.

The last one of the bunch, a raven haired beauty, had all her visible skin, except for her head, covered in a lattice of scarred flesh, arranged artistically in geometrical and tribal patterns. Being familiarized with the bodymod terminology, Daisy knew that those scars were either the result of skin removal or hot branding scarification, two processes excruciatingly painful.

“Do you like my servants?” Anthony said from behind her, startling the excitable girl.

“They are so different, so… beautiful” Daisy said, mesmerized with their radiant smiles and transformed bodies.

“I’m glad you think that way” Anthony sighed in relief “It was their love for changing their bodies and practicing extreme sex what brought them into the Directorate”

“Like me?”

“There is no one like you. All the maids became enamored with the idea the very moment I told them of your circumstances. I suspect you are going to play with them a lot from now on”

Both man and little girl began walking to the entrance, where the maids bowed respectfully to their master. The blonde multibreasted maid even winked at Daisy while she passed by, which made the preteen giggle nervously. If what Anthony had told her in the limo was true, that pale cowgirl usually fucked very well endowed stallions.

The main hall was all marble and porcelain and portraits and gold and shiny glass, everything absurdly expensive and luxurious. Daisy suddenly felt ashamed of being surrounded by all that wealth, being of middle class herself. She dreaded breaking such rare items and the punishment it surely would entail.

Anthony seemed to sense her distress so, as they climbed the main staircase to get to the second floor, he tried to reassure her.

“Don’t worry about all those things. They are just things, replaceable. You, on the other hand, are unique and most precious than gold or diamonds”

Daisy literally beamed with pride at the compliment, but despite that enforced nap earlier, she was still emotionally exhausted, and the darkness of the night was claiming her consciousness slowly.

“This one here will be your room from now on, Daisy” Anthony said, opening one of the doors of the left wing corridor “You are free to change the decoration and furniture at will, but, for now, I have just arranged it as your old bedroom”

The tired preteen entered the room warily, flicking the light switch on her way in. Anthony hadn’t lied. Apart from the increased area, it looked as if he had lifted her old bedroom and transported it whole into his house. She darted to her bed, and jumped straight on top.

While the blonde maid removed her clothes and tucked her in, just like her mom used to do, a barely awake Daisy heard the last words of her new dad and closed her eyes in bliss.

“Rest well, my little flower, for tomorrow you will begin your voyage”
Anonymous 20-Jul-16 13:00 # 6245 Up to top Down to bottom
So, from the next chapter, things will be starting. I cannot wait for that!
Falquian 21-Jul-16 17:23 # 6275 Up to top Down to bottom
Chapter 6

As per the plan she had originally crafted and the best scientists and doctors of the Directorate later perfected, there had to be a period of genital development before any actual modification could be performed on them. In plain words, they had to grow. However, what Daisy didn’t know was that the hormones included in the treatment not only would make her genitals grow; they would make her whole body grow alongside them.

For the Directorate as well as for Anthony, that was unacceptable. Her still prepubescent body had to be preserved in order for the changes, which would need years to be completed, to remain shocking. It was the huge difference between a crazy teenager with extreme bodymods and a crazy child with extreme bodymods.
Thus, a decision was taken, she would have to remain a child for the rest of her life, forever in the onset of puberty. For that, Doctor Henry, the endocrinologist of the organization, modified a treatment originally designed for girls transgendering into boys, extending its length indefinitely.

The following morning, just after breakfast, Krista, the reptilian maid, who also doubled as head nurse, injected the preteen with a Histrelin implant under the skin of her left arm. Those implants, that had to be renewed each year, were very powerful puberty blockers that would completely stop her growth, prevent the development of secondary sexual characteristics (breasts, hips, hair…) and halt her menstruation cycle, rendering her functionally sterile. In order to prevent bone loss from the hormonal imbalance, she would also be supplied with frequent injections of Raloxifene, as well as supplements of calcium and vitamin D.

That puberty stopping drug also would protect Daisy from suffering the secondary effects of the treatment with DHT crème (a derivative hormone from the testosterone) on her clitoris. The pleasure organ was an integral part of the flower transformation, and would need the most drastic surgery procedure to change into its final form. For that to happen, though, much more volume was needed than what would be normally available. She needed a clit that was at least the size of a cock from a boy half her own age.

The basement of the mansion was a fully equipped hospital with surgery rooms prepared to host any kind of operation the Directorate approved. It wasn’t always in use, though. Only when such an operation was scheduled the required doctors, surgeons, nurses and anesthesiologists would move into the mansion for all the time needed. In spite of the scarce use, maintenance was always being performed in order to keep it fully functional, at all times. It was a tremendous expenditure of resources, but that kind of waste was pocket money for that society of wealthy degenerates.

The very first of the operations that would be performed on Daisy was the easiest of the bunch, so that same night she found herself tightly strapped, completely naked, to a gyno chair in that very basement.

“I have sprayed a local anesthetic into the area, so you shouldn’t feel much pain, although this will sting nonetheless” said Krista, who was seated in a stool between her wide open legs.

“Don’t worry. I really want to see how it will look after this” Daisy answered cheerily.
Anthony, standing at her side and holding her hand, nodded to Krista, who took a scalpel from a nearby tray and began working to the music of the whimpers coming from a tight lipped Daisy.

The procedure in question was a partial clitoridotomy. Unlike a clitoridectomy, where all the clit was excised, what the green skinned maid was doing was removing only the folds of the clitoral hood. It was a method akin to a male circumcision, with the objective of completely freeing the clit from its protective layers, allowing further treatments to affect the whole organ easily and without restriction.

In due time, the clitoridotomy would be completed, excising the ligaments that kept the clit anchored in place and freeing it from its bed of flesh. That operation would extend its length almost one full inch which, if the rest of the treatment worked as intended, would leave her clit with an impressive length of four inches.

After clamping the relevant blood vessels, a snip here, another there, and a circular cut around the hood, quickly freed the small piece of skin that had covered until now Daisy’s most precious nub. The wrinkled hood would be pickled in order to preserve it, and then inset into an acrylic case to become the first of many memorabilia about her flower transformation.

A mere hour later, Krista had finished stitching the cut flesh around Daisy’s clitoris and applied an aseptic bandage to let it heal for some days. It had been a clean operation, without complications, so she sighed satisfied, nodding an OK to her master.

Daisy was sweating and panting profusely, but she hadn’t lost consciousness, and the victorious shine in her eyes told Krista everything she needed to know about her personality. Anthony, she also noticed, had a suspicious stain around the crotch area of his expensive pants, and she supposed Bethany or Milly (probably both) would have a very busy night after the exhausted girl was bedded.

In the following days, Krista changed the bandages twice a day, cleaning and disinfecting the wounds. After three weeks, a very sexually frustrated Daisy swore that she was healed and ready to see the result. Again in the basement with the child and Anthony, Krista removed carefully the gauze, revealing a slightly inflamed, but otherwise cured clitoris.

Holding a mirror in front of Daisy’s cunt, both the little minx and her master admired the results of her handiwork. Atop her vagina laid what looked like a miniature penis glans, angry pink and devoid of any protective layer of skin, with hints of the clitoral shaft peeking below it. It looked like it was begging for a firm hand to tug and free it from its vaginal nest.

Daisy lowered her little hand to the exposed organ, making a tentative rub. She cummed on the spot, explosively, loudly, drenching Krista in a shower of piss and vaginal jizz. The reptile themed maid didn’t mind the spray; in fact she licked it from her lips, savoring her young taste. What surprised her was that, for such a spectacular orgasm to happen in such a short time, poor Daisy must had been on the absolute edge for the three weeks of her recovery. It was amazing, and very sexy. The newest acquisition of her master was a natural, and now that she had recovered, Anthony and all her sister maids would try their best to give the deviant waif the time of her life.
Falquian 21-Jul-16 17:34 # 6276 Up to top Down to bottom
With this chapter, we enter into the realm of the body modification itself at last.
I have researched all the procedures and substances that would be needed to achieve what Daisy is going to do, and I see no reason why they wouldn't work, although I'm not a doctor, and therefore my knowledge in that field is limited. So, in order for the story to flow, I have omitted many technical nuances that could mean the difference between success and failure.
Maybe in the future, all the potential problems could be solved and somebody attempts this (after seeing split penises in body modification freaks, I'm ready to believe anything from the human race). Who knows?
Anonymous 21-Jul-16 22:07 # 6277 Up to top Down to bottom
thanks, another good story
Oniros 21-Jul-16 22:39 # 6279 Up to top Down to bottom
Nice! That chapter was nice(as usual), you put enough technical bits to make it believable, but not enough to lose your reader. At least, that was my impressions as someone who knows the basics of biology and almost nothing about body mods.
Anonymous 22-Jul-16 23:32 # 6286 Up to top Down to bottom
Thank for your work. I'm always amazed by the quality of your writing considering how fast you create your chapters.

I might also make a criticism, but as its based on my personal feeling, I can't guaranty it to be relevant. In your previous work, there was the Cosmic Worm, in this one there is the Directorate. Both are really powerful entity that can take an (almost?) absolute control over some people life. It seem to be a theme you enjoy and I won't complain about it.
What is frustrating me is that this control is too perfect for me and here is why. As a reader I tend to synchronize my mood with the characters of the story I read. That's why I'm really happy when I find story like yours, where the protagonist is really exited by what is happening to her. But here come the problem: as this kind of story is about extreme fetish, I also expect the character to feel like extreme thing are happening to them. But this feeling is considerably damped by the huge monument of stability that are either the Worms of the Directorate. Their control over everything and everyone and their capacity to make thing always go along their will give a mundane and expected feeling to the whole story. They try and success to make every other character to see as vanilla any kind of perversion.
What also bug me a bit is that nor the Worm nor the member of the directorate seem really aroused by what they are doing. I know, its weird to ask for the Worm too fill aroused but … Whatever. Yet the member of the Directorate are humans, so they can feel this way. But it seem they don't. Lust is a passion and passion make you act inconsiderately. As the Directorate have always acted in a perfectly coherent and planed way, it feel like despite their effort, the members of the directorate aren't that much excited by what they are doing. And that make the character with the most valued opinion of the story feel (and make me feel) “Hm hm really interesting, indeed” about this story instead of the expected “OMG WTF!!! mind = blown.”

My message might be long but it's meant to be a small criticism.
You are a really good at what you are doing!
Falquian 23-Jul-16 06:02 # 6288 Up to top Down to bottom
>> 6286 Constructive criticism is always appreciated. I know where you are coming from, I can share your feelings on it because it's exactly what is happening, and I'll tell you why.

My favourite themes are about women falling willingly into depravity, with powerful entities guiding them along the way (I suppose a psychiatrist could extract lots of information about my personality by reading them, but I, like everyone else here, don't come to this page for that).

Your main criticism comes from the fact that the all powerful entities are not as excited/deranged/passionate about such extreme behavior as the 'victims'. I have gone there before. My first serious attempt on a story was about a bodymodder (a normal one, mind you) that is enraptured with a young lady asking to be guided into the extremes where Daisy is headed. He, as well as she, are drawn into a spiral where their respective fetishes feedback between them, drawing them both into a form of mutual insanity. They both lose control, and they like it.

I never finished that story. As you probably know by reading my tales, I can't stand a story poorly written from a strict literary point of view, so I try to be as 'artistic' as possible so that, when people read mine, they feel like they are reading a professionaly written one, and not the masturbatory fantasy of a teenager (you know what I'm talking about, there are plenty of examples around here).

In the end, what that perfectionism meant for that unfinished story was that it became a monster of a hundred pages with no end in sight. Having to describe in detail the daily adventures of two people from their perspectives meant that what I was writing became a full commercial book, and not a perverted story to be enjoyed in a short time. I'm not a full time writer, it's not my job, and I quickly lost the interest and drive to keep writing it. It still seats in a place of my hard drive reminding me of the dangers of overreaching.

So, the moral of that story for me was that, if I wanted to finish something, I would have to limit my scope. Since my main interest was, and always have been, the female component of those tales, I had to cut short the other side somehow. The easiest way was, of course, to make the male counterpart an entity working in the background. Able to grant the female her innermost desires, but with his own agenda and plans running behind the scenes.

If it helps you to better digest this tale, imagine Anthony having repeated what he is doing to Daisy with all her maids before, and many more women (and men) before them. Even if he still lusts after Daisy's transformation, he is a bit jaded and has learned a measure of self control along the way. Nonetheless, as the story goes on, he will get lots of wild sex with Daisy, rest assured.

If you want stories that put focus on all the involved parties, here you have many examples of better writers than me (tSade or Poguemahome are some of my favorites). They have the motivation, time and skill to give their stories the lenght they deserve (especially tSade), so don't forget to pay their threads a visit and let them know.

Well, that has been a long rant, sorry. Thanks for taking that issue to the foreground, I'm sure many more people felt like you, and now they have an explanation.
Anonymous 23-Jul-16 23:14 # 6294 Up to top Down to bottom
If that's so, maybe you could show more often your characters or entities making error, acting foolishly, making people have lesser trust in them and especially if they are not supposed to do so, and also if possible being an annoyance.
It's extremely efficient to give them depth in a few words. Failure and flaws tell way more about someone than anything else. It's done in every single successful fiction either for characters, organizations, gods or whatever. That's also what was fun with Heather: she was lawless and egocentric and she had lost her crime lord throne.
tSade 24-Jul-16 23:46 # 6317 Up to top Down to bottom
Now that is a lovely attention to details and a wonderful beginning of a descent story. Thank you, I'm going to love seeing where you're going with this.
Persephone Lilly 26-Jul-16 00:51 # 6340 Up to top Down to bottom
This was so well written I couldn't put it down. I love your work so far and I hope you can write more!
Falquian 26-Jul-16 07:39 # 6341 Up to top Down to bottom
Chapter 7

While her clit had been healing from its operation, Daisy had been forbidden to masturbate or even touch herself down there, for fear of compromising a speedy recovery. For a preteen that was so sexually active, it was torture of the worst kind.

At least Anthony and the maids kept the precocious brunette busy most of the time hammering into her the daily routines that would become her future life in the mansion. Wake up at seven A.M., breakfast, a shower aided by the maids, treatment for her aching clit and then study time until four P.M with a pause for lunch. The intention of the Directorate was to speed up her learning, with specialized tutors that would guide her along an optimized curriculum into the path of excellence.

After her classes, Daisy was subjected to an intensive exercise plan focused on flexibility and aerobic endurance to keep her in shape and prepare her body for the strenuous sex and bondage sessions that loomed in her future. Exhausted in both body and mind, she would drift to sleep immediately only to resume the routine the next day.

It was a demanding schedule, but she was intelligent and adaptable, and the tingling of her loins was a constant reminder of how she had set foot on the road to get her flower at last. Nonetheless, by the time her clit was finally cured and she was cleared for genital development, she had become a ball of frustrated sexual energy aching for release.

When Anthony, completely naked, entered her room that very night, she was desperately ready for him, legs open, her sex wetting her bed in a veritable deluge of love fluids. His body, twice her height and width, engulfed her so completely that she felt small and vulnerable buried between his muscular frame and the bed, but also protected and safe in his powerful embrace.

His cock was impressive, a circumcidated rod nine inches long and two thick that almost rivaled her forearm in size. While he covered her small body with kisses, she measured his cock against her belly, and wondered if he could fit that massive meat pole in her virgin cunt.

He could, making her scream in a mixture of agony and pleasure. Even if he couldn’t hilt himself completely inside her, the feeling of being painfully full combined with his pelvis smacking rhythmically against her unprotected clit was enough to send her careening into orgasm almost immediately.

The repressed energy exploded all at once, dwarfing even her wildest attempts at masturbation, solidifying the links of the chain that joined her sexuality with her kinks and her new dad/master. Unbeknownst to her, the maids had spiked her dinner with a carefully concocted cocktail of psychotropic drugs designed to reduce her pain, loosen her muscles, enhance her sensory input and make her very receptive to hypnotic stimulus.

Anthony, taking full advantage of that altered state, repeated commands that echoed in Daisy’s brain: “You love me passionately and unconditionally”, “Your body is mine to use as I see fit”, “You will surrender your body to me”, “I’m the one who will give you the flower of your desire”

Phrases like those, whispered tenderly at her ear, again and again while he pistoned her tender cunt, disguised as the sensual talk of lovemaking, were etched in her very suggestionable mind with metaphorical and literal acid. The succession of drug fueled orgasms melted and reformed her mind as per his wicked instructions, further altering her psychosexual makeup while her convulsing body disappeared inside Anthony’s embrace.

Those kind of sessions would be repeated daily, sometimes three or more times a day, until Daisy’s brain had been so corrupted that the drugs became unnecessary, and she looked for that chemical high on her own. In the end, the Directorate had turned her into a desperate nymphomaniac, a slut that craved sex, eager to learn each and every technique that Anthony and the maids were willing to teach her.

She discovered the joys of fellatio, cunnilingus and anal sex. She offered her body to the thrills of bondage, spanking, whipping, torture and submission in general. She made love to Anthony, the maids, and a myriad of toys designed to expand all her holes and make her receptive to the bigger cocks and fists. She experimented with urethral sex and scat, and even learned to pleasure and be pleasured by dogs. No sexual practice was forbidden to her, like every individual that fell into the Directorate’s clutches, Daisy was destined to become adept at all of them.

Meanwhile, her erogenous zones were being subjected to the treatments that would prepare them for the final transformation.

Four times a day, her clit was massaged deeply with DHT crème, one of the maids mauling the exposed organ so that the hormone penetrated deeply in the erectile tissue. Then, a small vacuum pump would be attached to the sensitized organ and pumped until the clit was swollen to twice its original size. Pumping and releasing, milking the pleasure nub, making poor little Daisy cum repeatedly, that routine was enforced for an hour after each hormonal application. Also, in order to avoid desensitization, her swollen clit was massaged during the day at regular intervals with coconut oil, which maintained the skin as soft and tender as it had been while still covered by the hood.

In addition to that, after each clitoral session, her whole vagina was also vacuumed for an hour, inflating her already puffy lips to ridiculous proportions, making them resemble the tires of a bicycle which, in Anthony’s opinion, made them look deliciously plump and juicy. After each pumping session, Daisy would perform the rest of her daily routines with a set of clamps, attached to her inner and outer labia, designed to grip without restricting circulation.

From those clamps, metal spheres of increasing weight dangled merrily, stretching her labia past their natural limits. Since she spent her time mostly naked, it was just a matter of adjusting her gait to the tingling chandelier between her legs, but it was a treat for the whole household seeing the nude little minx running in the treadmill with the array of chains and balls swinging back and forth.

Her nipples also received a similar vacuum pumping treatment which, combined with topical injections of Oxytocin, ensured that the teats and areolas fused into swollen, painfully erect nubs that would be further restricted with elastic bands until they became the shape and color of ripe strawberries. The contrast between the fruit shaped flesh in her otherwise flat chest usually made Anthony and the maids go into a sexual frenzy with a very happy Daisy.

Between the genital enhancement, sexual training, studying and exercising, each minute of Daisy’s day was tightly controlled, leaving her almost no time for herself, further reinforcing the harsh mental conditioning. And if that schedule wasn’t enough, she used her leisure time, which in her old life had been filled with toys, friends or TV, to seek Anthony or any free maid and have wild, rough sex.

That strenuous routine was strictly followed during the next year and a half, and the results of such extreme manipulation left Daisy’s erogenous zones bizarrely enlarged and incredibly sensitive, but fully prepared for the next stage of her transformation. Daisy was then fourteen, and she was ready to step into the operation room for her first major surgery.
Falquian 26-Jul-16 07:42 # 6342 Up to top Down to bottom
Thanks for all your kind comments, that encouragement is all I need to keep writing. Problems with characterization notwithstanding, here is the next chapter, in where Daisy's body and mind are prepared for what will come next.
Anonymous 14-Aug-16 23:50 # 6584 Up to top Down to bottom
I am really waiting for the next part!
Anonymous 17-Aug-16 11:35 # 6640 Up to top Down to bottom
the most hideous part is that the cunt being named a flower and this mindfucking the loli.
Falquian 17-Aug-16 14:22 # 6645 Up to top Down to bottom
Chapter 8

The Daphne Directorate, conscious of its future needs, had recruited early and then given expensive training to a bunch of doctors and surgeons that shared their deviant interests. The results were highly specialized medical professionals that usually operated in the civil realm with utmost success, but were ready to drop everything as soon as the Directorate called.

Some of the doctors that had improved Daisy’s original plan were called to the mansion to begin working with her modified genitals. For all the time needed until she recovered, they would share living quarters with the mansion usual inhabitants, making use of the maid servants as they pleased, as a form of an additional bonus.

For her part, Daisy’s nether lips had become veritable beef curtains, extending down like pink sheets; darkened by the constant use and abuse they had been subjected to. Those meat flaps wouldn’t have been amiss in the cunt of a slutty, worn out hooker, except that thanks to her youth and constant care by her handlers, they looked fresh and shiny, instead of wrinkly and dry. Her outer lips extended almost two inches downwards, while her ridiculous inner lips surpassed them at four inches long.

The faint squelching sounds that the perpetually moist lips made when rubbing together created a nice background music for Daisy wherever she went. The doctors that waited for her in the basement operating room were not immune to her charming wet walk, and the raging erections barely concealed by the surgical garbs were for Daisy like the traditional sword salute of the military in weddings. It was a fitting tribute to her dream, she thought after she laid her body atop the bed; spread eagled, waiting for the anesthesia that would send her into unconsciousness.

Once the little girl was safely in the hands of Morpheus, the surgeons began working, their steady hands concentrated in Daisy while their cocks were serviced by the dutiful maids of the house. The release of pent up tension helped them concentrate in their work, or so they claimed. That claim had some merit to it, it seemed, because so far none of their surgeries as a team had had any complications.

This first stage of the procedure was pretty simple in theory. Using their sharp tools, they divided each inner labia into two identical pieces with a cut right through the middle. With judicious use of scalpel, scissors and suture, they molded each of the four flaps into a petal shape and then connected through the base the top right ‘petal’ with the top left and the bottom right with the bottom left, creating a perfect frame that left the oversized clit poking below the junction between the top ones and surrounded seamlessly the vaginal opening.

Then, clamping the labia minora together to have room, they did the same with the labia majora, except that the juicy outer lips were split and sculpted into four smaller ‘sepals’ each and then connected like the ‘petals’ had been, at the bottom a


at the bottom and the top. Once the twin set of lips were spread, Daisy’s vagina began looking like a flower for the first time in her life.

Unfortunately, the flesh didn’t react exactly like plants did, especially not against gravity. In order to increase the turgency of those meat petals, the doctors inserted chirurgical plastic wires, molded in the shape of the outline of the completed petals under the freshly cut tissue. The artificial wire frame, very thin, flexible and sturdy, became all but invisible once inside her flesh, and would keep the split labia always in their proper position, opened and inviting, resting against the skin of her thighs.
A small set of powerful rare earth magnet locks inside the very tips of each petal would connect the wires and make possible for the flower to be closed if anyone so desired. The effect of such a flower opening would be very powerful, and the Directorate members wanted to experience it in full. What did the petals protect while closed, though? That would be solved by the next stage.

After resting for awhile, the surgeons returned to the operating table for the more difficult procedure of that day. Using a laparoscopy toolset, they penetrated into her uterine cavity from her bellybutton, searching for the ligaments that held her womb in place. After all, what was a flower without an ovary?

With expert precision, they found the pubocervical, transverse and uterosacral ligament pairs, and cut them one by one, destroying the anchors that kept her baby oven in place. When the last set of ligaments was excised, they looked in wonder at how Daisy’s womb suddenly loosened like a puppet with its strings severed. Using a small set of forceps, they grabbed the cervical ring and tugged with care, reversing the now floppy vaginal walls like a sock with incredible ease, exposing the cervix to the outside for the first time.

With a small additional effort, the doctors prolapsed Daisy’s womb completely, almost three inches outside of her body, creating the perfect ovary for her vaginal flower. Using the same hole opened in the bellybutton, they inserted a synthetic surgical mesh that was normally used to repair that kind of damage. In this instance, though, it would serve to keep the womb out instead. Anchoring the mesh strongly to the pelvic floor in multiple places, they ensured that the uterus would never go back to its proper location, no matter the kind of force applied, and that the extended blood vessels and nerves would not suffer damage in the process.

That last addition had been a request from Anthony himself. He wanted to keep fucking little Daisy’s snatch, but not ruin its new appearance in the slightest in the process. What they had done, in the end, had been to extend her fuckhole outside her body. With proper stretching training for her cervix, anyone would be able to fuck Daisy’s uterus directly without fear of the prolapse returning into her body, although the obsessed girl would have to learn how to live with such a sensitive organ forever dangling between her shapely legs.

The space that had been vacated by her uterus was planned to be filled by her bladder. Usually, women’s bladders were smaller due to the genital tract taking space. Now that the womb and vagina were out of the way, the bladder would have room to stretch until it reached, and surpassed, the size of a man’s. A set of progressively larger water balloons were prepared to be inserted through her urethra, past her sphincter, and then inflated to capacity. In a short time, the progressive stretching would make the piss reservoir grow, increasing the number of kinky entertainments in Daisy’s arsenal, and reinforcing the blockade of the surgical mesh.

There was still one operation to be performed down there, but the little girl’s genitals had suffered too much abuse in one sitting, and they didn’t want to risk her life any longer. Therefore, the last procedure and, by far, the most delicate one, the modification of her clit, would have to wait until she was fully healed. That would give it time to grow further, and they were going to need every last ounce of extra flesh for such a radical operation to have a chance to succeed.
repec 19-Aug-16 13:38 # 6692 Up to top Down to bottom
For the first few chapter, it wasn't impressive. But now, I'm amazed. It became a great story to my interests!
Keep up the good work!
Anonymous 25-Aug-16 21:07 # 6772 Up to top Down to bottom
More! :)
repec 19-Nov-16 12:11 # 7782 Up to top Down to bottom
We need more of this!
Falquian 24-Nov-16 01:38 # 7863 Up to top Down to bottom
Chapter 9

Daisy spent the rest of that day and the next one asleep in bed while the most grievous damage of the operation healed. After she woke up, extremely sore but very excited, she fell into a small depression when she was told that she would have to wait almost a month to see the results. In the end, it would amount to a week bedded and three weeks of frustrating recovery with her cunt hidden inside a bandaged codpiece, denying her the glorious view of her dream came true. She compensated for the wait by making ample use of her asshole and mouth, setting new girth and length records for herself on a weekly basis.

Only the doctors were allowed to see the recovery rate of her cunt whenever they applied the pertinent cures and, to the relief of the whole household, it seemed like she was healing nicely and without scars thanks to the regenerative power of the very young people and the ability of the best surgeons available.

The day that the doctors had scheduled to clear her, a party was arranged by Anthony. It had balloons, confetti, cakes, the whole package, and everything was flower shaped. That evening, everyone reunited in the luxurious ball room, decorated for the occasion, and stood around little Daisy. The girl, ecstatic to be the centre of attention and on the verge of madness due to the wait, sit down in a gyno chair where Mike, the helpful surgeon that had monitored the whole process, began unwrapping the bandages and the protective codpiece.

Everyone held their breath when Mike removed the last bandage, and everyone saw at last what Daisy’s nethers had been hiding all that time.

The circular crown of eight sepals made with the flesh of Daisy’s outer lips, skin toned on the outside, pink in the inside, framed the cocoon formed by the four, bigger petals created with the flesh of her inner lips. The cocoon was closed, the four meat flaps fitting together into a perfect ovoid. Tears streaming freely down her face, Daisy reached for her cunt flower, that she had been feeling for one whole month, but had been unable to touch, and inserted a delicate finger between them to peel the ‘petals’ away.

Once forced to separate, the invisible magnet locks released their hold on the flesh and the plastic wires forced the folds to open slowly, revealing the soft, floppy tube of meat that was her prolapsed vagina, and the long stem above that was her elongated clit.

“It’s so beautiful” Daisy cried at the sight of her cunt flower opening for the first time.

“It is, indeed” echoed Anthony, while the rest of the people nodded their assent.

“You fulfilled your promise” she said, hugging Anthony and kissing him passionately.

That was it, the deal had been completed. If at any moment Daisy had harbored any thoughts of escaping despite the risks, those thoughts had been obliterated by the miracle unfolding between her legs. For that unrivaled gift, she would be his for the rest of her life.

After that solemn moment passed, everyone cheered and clapped to her successful modification, and the party began in full.

All the people wanted to feel for themselves the touch and texture of the flower, and Daisy’s cunt was poked and manipulated unmercifully. The petals were wet and velvety soft, while the prolapsed vagina was a rubbery hose of flesh that was a delight to squeeze and tug, prompting a powerful masochistic induced orgasm and a clear discharge from her cervix each time it was so handled. Everyone present had a chance to lick, taste, bit, tug, twist, pinch or just fondle her bizarrely modified genitalia, and the preteen soon felt like floating above the clouds, so was her high from the undiluted adoration and the pleasure chemicals flooding her brain.

The naked people ate till their bellies were full, danced till their feet ached, and fucked till all their holes were sore, all night long. Daisy even tried her new cervical hole, inserting some thin soda straws up the tight orifice. It would be some time before she could accept Anthony’s cock inside her womb, but she was determined to get to that point as soon as possible.

Nonetheless, there were still modifications left to do and, although she would never tire from playing with her meat flower, the following days marked her return to the routine. A routine that had been significantly changed, as some elements were kept, some discarded, some modified and some added.

The newly scheduled bladder training, for example, became the worst part of the day for Daisy until she accustomed to it. Four times a day, before proceeding to each of the daily clitoral treatments, Bethany would insert a deflated balloon through her raw urethra, with the help of abundant doses of lubricant, and then inflate it inside her bladder until she begged her to stop.

After having reached her apparent bursting point, the relentless maid would keep squeezing the inflation bulb until the poor girl screamed in pain, in order to slowly increase her limits. The amount of pressure was so tremendous that it created a small mound above her pelvis, making the child look like three months pregnant, but Bethany knew very well Daisy’s capacity and she never came close of rupturing something important.

Only when she had the balloon changed was she allowed pissing and then, as soon as she finished, the flexible device was reinserted again. The result was that she always spent day and night with the overwhelming need to pee, punctuated by the four bursts of excruciating bladder inflation sessions, and was never able to find true relief. The torture was not without purpose, though, as the continuous cycle of micro-tearing and healing of the bladder musculature was slowly increasing its capacity.

Thankfully, as the Directorate had planned, linking the inflations with the clit massage sessions afterwards had finally had an effect on her psyche. The powerful orgasms that always generated when her oversized appendage was being treated mixed with the pain of her abused bladder until she linked those two sensations in her mind. From that moment on, the aches of her loins tingled in sympathy alongside her clitoris, and she came to reclassify that excruciating sensation of being full to the brim and then a little more as pleasurable.

And that was just one of the changes in the routines. Her clit regime of DHT crème, vacuum pumping and coconut oil had been supplemented with injections all over its length of Nerve Growth Factor, in order to drastically increase the number of nerve endings and ramifications. The end result was that the already sensitive organ became triply so, and sometimes even the slightest touch was enough to make Daisy cum. It got so bad that she had to resort more than once to hide the hypersensitive organ inside the labia petal cocoon if she didn’t want to become a mindless blob of orgasms trashing on the floor.

Her nipples kept growing steadily atop her still undeveloped breasts thanks to the pumping and banding sessions, and became easily an inch long and two inches wide when erect, which was almost always. It was an impressive feat for such a flat chested gal, and they became a point of focus for the maids, that liked to suck or whip them equally, depending on their daily mood shifts.

All that activity consumed so much time from everyone that, without anyone really noticing, another year passed and Daisy was ready for the final stage of her flowery modification.

Chapter 10

Having reached fifteen, Daisy had started to show subtle behavioral changes. Even if her hormonal cycle was strictly controlled and her body would never grow past twelve, her brain kept maturing, and she became more conscious of her self-image. It wasn’t long before she asked for makeup and Anthony granted her wish, albeit in a very permanent way.

Megan, the black haired scarred maid, was an expert tattoo artist, having done Krista’s beautiful green scale pattern years ago. It was she who was tasked with Daisy’s makeup, which was going to be permanently inked on her skin. That course of action had been suggested by Anthony and wholeheartedly supported by the teen, which was glad to, at least, save the time needed to apply and retouch the makeup daily. With a schedule so tight, every moment wasted was a moment that could have been used in better ways, like having sex.

In a meager three sessions, Daisy found herself with a permanent dark eyeliner and grayish brown eye shadow that spoke of sexiness without being trashy. The dark outline made her almond, honey brown eyes even more piercing if possible, conveying a very seductive look if she lowered her eyelids.

Her lips had been tattooed with a very deep red, so intense that it always looked like she had lip gloss applied, and looked bigger than ever thanks to the artistic sense of Megan, who had expanded their contour with subtlety and dexterity. In the end Daisy’s kissers became moist, inviting and always slightly opened, an erotic delight to the sight and the touch.

Having started on the road of tattooing, Daisy decided to keep going and fix one aspect of her cunt flower that had been vexing her since almost the beginning. The petals, coming from her rose colored inner lips were basically the right color for a flower. The sepals and ovary, coming from her outer lips and vagina, needed some proper tinting in her opinion.

Therefore, after having had her permanent makeup applied, she scheduled another session with Megan to have her cunt done, to the amusement of all the manor staff. After the maid had her way with her, Daisy showed everyone the green colored prolapse and outer lips, proud of the way she had handled a process so painful without anesthesia, even if she had had to bite a gag and cry a river while such sensitive parts of her anatomy were repeatedly stabbed by the tattoo gun.

If she hadn’t known what was in store for her clit, she would have probably colored it too. However, the surgeons had been summoned again because her boy cock sized clit was at last ready for the last procedure and any further esthetic change would have to wait until it was done.

The frequent sessions of DHT application, vacuum pumping and Nerve Growth Factor injections not only had made the organ grow grotesquely, they had also changed its tisular composition in an important way. The nerve endings and blood capillaries had grown and branched profusely, increasing the sensitivity to painful levels, but also creating a network of additional connections that the surgeons could use to operate on the clitoris without it losing sensitivity or suffering necrosis due to lack of irrigation.
As Daisy was lying unconscious on the operation bed for the second time, the head surgeon positioned his precision instrumentality above her flowery cunt and prepared to operate.

That operation had needed months of planning and research beforehand. The surgeons had analyzed the multiple 3D tomographies and radioactive contrast scanners taken of her altered genitals, mapping with millimetric precision the position of each and every ligament, blood vessel and nerve of her clit.

It was no surprise then that the neurosurgeon assigned for that operation had memorized exactly where to cut, where to graft nerves and vessels, where to cauterize and where to suture. Aided by robotic arms that demultiplied his movements, he was able to make incisions that would have been impossible for his pulse alone. He began by cutting the suspensory ligaments of the clitoris, allowing it to fall floppily an additional inch outside the vagina. Then, slowly but methodically, he began to split the tube of meat into the two long appendages that would make the stamens completing Daisy’s flower.

That idea was not originally Daisy’s, but something a member of the directorate, a gardening aficionado, had proposed to the team of doctors. Considered unfeasible at the beginning due to the small size of the clit, risking necrosis if so divided, the compromise was reached to make it grow as much as possible to increase the odds of success of the transformation.

Armed with the knowledge of multiple computer simulations of Daisy’s clit inner anatomy, the neurosurgeon moved with determination excising flesh, rerouting nerves, cauterizing capillaries and stitching carefully the wounds he was creating. The task was horrendously complicated due to the dorsal nerve of the clit having only two branches, which limited the division to just two parts (Daisy and that crazed botanist would have liked at least four, but such were the limits of current medical technology). Even then, nerve grafts had to be used at some points to ensure proper innervation.
Finally, in the same way they had done with the labia, small plastic wires molded to the desired length and curvature were inserted straight into the two long and, then thin, clitoris pieces, guiding the ‘stamens’ to the sides of the prolapsed green vagina serving as the ovary.

Thanks to that, Daisy’s split clitoris would always remain erect and turgid, crowning the increasingly loose hole of her cervix, the pair of glans slightly curved to the inside in salute to the life giving organ. When it was finally healed, new injections of Nerve Growth Factor and DHT would restore in time the nerve endings and blood vessels to normal, making each stamen as sensitive as her clit had been originally before beginning the treatment. Nobody was really sure of how the brain would process the new information coming from her mauled organ, but everyone was eager to know, beginning from the man that had used his tools to divide it. For science, it was understood.

Like the first operation recovery period had been handled, Daisy wasn’t allowed to see or use her cunt until it was again completely healed, which gave Anthony and the maids another excuse to throw a party the day the flower was again unveiled. For her part, Daisy spent that time reacquainting herself with her asshole, throat, and other sensual parts that had been neglected in favor of her prolapsed womb.

Even if she was having trouble cataloguing the sensations that radiated from her healing clitoris, her active imagination was helping her brain to remap its connections and separating slowly the sensations coming from each individual clitoris piece. She became sure that, once she had access to her twin clits again, she would quickly learn to differentiate them by intense and frequent manipulation.

However, the most important thing, the thought that filled her brain day and night, giving her peace of mind at last, was this: “I’m finally complete”


The unveiling of her clit stamens carried the same symbolical weight that her flower opening for the first time had had. Once the labia petals parted again and everyone saw the finished mod, sighs of envy, shouts of admiration and lustful stares made Daisy literally beam at the attention received. The twin clits had healed very nicely, without a trace of scar thanks to the incredible ability of the surgeons, and now stood proudly by the sides of her green tinted prolapse. Two cylindrical rigid sticks a quarter of an inch wide and four inches long, engorged with arousal, pulsating at the tune of her heartbeat, with a protuberance on top made by the bisected glans.

Her ‘dad’, unable to resist the temptation, unfastened his pants and positioned his cock at the entrance of her womb, her cock head kissing the inviting opening. Daisy was in heaven, panting with anticipation but, as Anthony breached her cervix with his cock for the first time in front of everyone, she dedicated one last thought to the life she had abandoned for that bliss, looking for any sign of regret.

She didn’t found any. That decision taken three years ago had proved to be the best one, so she dumped the memory of her parents, friends and home into the trash bin of the childhood memories. It was nostalgia without sadness, nothing else.

Quickly returning to the present, she cried ecstatically at how Anthony’s tool scraped the lining of her womb, compressing it while entering and stretching it while leaving, but never pushing it inside of her body again, thanks to the surgical mesh and the volume of her expanded bladder blocking the access.

The maids joined the party cheerfully, one kissing her mouth, another one tonguing her asshole and the other two attacking her cookie shaped nipples. Orgasm after orgasm wrecked the body of the teenager forever trapped inside the body of a child, erasing the last traces of the thoughts that had given her pause before. Those people were her true family, her dad and husband, moms and sisters.

It was a pity that she would never have children of her own but, just as Anthony had recruited her, she hoped that a fresh member of the Daphne Directorate would look at her someday with the same look she then had for her new father, a look of filial love, of carnal love.

After a week, Megan tattooed her twin clits green, with the glans transitioning to white, completing the color scheme of her cunt flower. Thanks to the long coexistence with the maids, she had grown to the idea of the human body as a canvas so, during the following year, Daisy also scarified her whole flat breasts with a motif of interlocking petals around her nipples. Megan herself was the one that removed carefully the small strips of skin that would later heal as keloids, creating a raised lattice of pink textured scars that framed beautifully her cookie shaped teats.

She didn’t stop there, though. Tattoos of vines crept from her ankles, all around her legs and up to her pelvis, making it seem that her cunt flower was growing from the incredibly realistic vegetable drawings. From her wrists, more vines filled her arms surrounding them up to her shoulders, decorated with small flowers carved from her skin to create relief and tattooed in bright hues of pink and white.

Apart from finishing her modifications, her training never really ended, although it suffered many changes. Gone were the pumping sessions, and the aggressive chemical treatments, replaced by a regime of hormones designed to safely maintain her in her childish body. Her stretching exercises continued, though, until her cervix was comfortably pliable and her ass was able to house two adult arms up the elbow.

The beautiful rosebud created by her prolapsed rectum after any particularly intense session became the subject of many afternoon chats, everyone giving ideas to follow on the flowery theme. A suggestion by Milly, the heavily pierced maid, was slowly gaining traction. It involved using piercings to decorate the prolapse and keep it outside her body at all times, and Daisy promised that she would consider it very carefully.

Also, she finally managed to fit Anthony’s cock in her urethra, taking advantage of her bladder astounding capacity to fill it with multitude of toys, vibrator devices and the like, increasing her pleasure as well as Anthony’s. That she became functionally incontinent because of the speedy stretching regime didn’t bother her in the slightest. The yellowish trickle of urine that never stopped flowing from her abused piss hole made her flower look always shiny and fresh, as if it was coated in morning dew. Besides, whenever she became really bothered by that, she could always plug her urethra with one of her many toys and manage to last up to three days without removing it, thanks to her incredible bladder capacity and fondness for that ‘ready to burst’ feeling.

Her voyage into the world of depravity continued unabated, familiarizing herself with every kind of perversion imaginable, until no sexual practice was taboo for her. As Anthony had predicted, the multitude of videos before, during and after her transformation became legendary within the Directorate, giving her a lot of prestige inside the society. When she learned that the kill switch on the ring had been a clever lie to keep her in check, she merely laughed at her own ingenuity, never for an instant thinking about abandoning them.

Sex still occupied a large chunk of her day, be it producing content for the society or for her own amusement in her free time. However, her studying schedule had been replaced by her work as one of their computer engineers, using state of the art technology to track candidates for the Directorate, multiplying their economic resources and hiding everything from the clutches of law enforcement. Working from her specially made seat, which had a conveniently placed padded hole for her cunt flower, her genius level ability made her one of the most precious assets of the secret society in the years to come.

In a bout of sadistic humor, when she turned eighteen she even decided to pay a visit to her old parents to see how they were faring. From the darkened windows of a Directorate limo, she saw her parents leaving the house holding hands with a little girl of four. The analysis of their behavior from surveillance and newspapers told Daisy that she hadn’t been forgotten, and that they still looked for her, even after all those years. Nonetheless, it lifted a weight from her chest seeing them happily pampering her replacement little sister, so she wished all the best for them in the years to come. She would even talk to the upper echelons of the Directorate to see if their good fortune could be increased somehow. Maybe a winner lottery ticket or a high end job for her dad. The Daphne Directorate could do that and more.

In fact, the sight of her young sister, so pure and innocent, like she had been before that damned explanation from her mother, ignited an unnatural fire in her loins. While she fondled her always exposed cunt flower, playing with the petals and tugging on the stamens, she thought in the many ways a girl like her sister could be corrupted.



Sorry about the other posts between the chapters. Did not know they were still in there…

Anyways, if anyone has more stories by Falquian I'd really appreciate knowing the titles at least. I have "Heather - Cradle of Life" as well if anyone is interested.


id be interested in the cradle of life


OP here. Wow, thanks so much Wulfie, gotta save that. I do have this story saved from 2015, but I never found the very end:

"Mad Scientists' Paradise (loli, amp, scat, snuff, gore, urethral, sci-fi and much more)"

Falquian 11-Aug-15 22:10 # 2450 Up to topDown to bottom


The dim light filtered through the window panes of the greenhouse gave the white lab coat of doctor Mateson a yellowish tint while he did his evening inspection of the plant specimens that grew inside there. He went one by one, meticulously measuring leaf lengths and colours, fructification states, parasitic infestation rates, and hundreds of other apparently inconsequential parameters that would have bored anyone else to tears had they been forced to keep track of them. Not him, not Mateson, nor any of the other scientists that manned that secluded facility in the middle of nowhere. For doctor Mateson, like all his colleagues, was veritably crazy.

Not crazy in the sense of banging his head into walls, or hallucinate dragons. No, he would have passed each and every test the psychiatrists of the world could have thrown at him with flying colours. His was a different kind of crazy, the kind of crazy that made you disregard all ethics and morals and the suffering of your test subjects in the pursuit of science. He was an old school mad scientist and, in this place, he had found a government endorsed sanctuary where he was given "Carte Blanche" to perform any experiment that his devious mind could conceive.

Mateson was already a genius in his twenties. A biologist of world fame until he mysteriously disappeared, he specialized in botanic and genetics. Now he was pushing forty, and his intellect had increased alongside his age. A tall wiry fellow, he would have been considered handsome by most women, with short salt peppered brown hair, a neatly trimmed beard and brown eyes always behind a pair of glasses, he couldn't care less about those hypothetical women. He was married to his work, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy some hot one on one action with whatever test subject was at hand whenever he needed to vent some stress.

He was nearing the end of his data collection round when he spotted Linda and his eyes warmed in affection as he approached the strange looking tree that extended its lush foliage to the ever decreasing light. Nobody outside that installation would have recognized that plant, nor the rows of similar ones that grew neatly ordered by its side. It's glossy green trunk had a diameter of twenty inches, and it grew taller than him in a collection of misshapen lumps that in a lower light could have even passed for a human female form. Its name was written in a plaque buried in the dirt that sustained it, partially obscured by the shadow that the leaves of the plant projected.

The strange tree, as well as its siblings, was an original creation of doc Mateson himself, brought to life by an unholy DNA splice coming from many plants and animals, including humans, in search for their most useful traits. Yet, they were all failures. None of them had brought him what he was looking for.

However, thanks to the government funding and the knowledge that all scientific breakthroughs took time to yield results, he was not worried at all. He tenderly stroked the soft trunk of the tree, making it shiver a bit, its leaves rustling as if in acknowledgement of his touch.

"Ah, poor Linda, I see that your water income is becoming deficitary. I will notice William so he can correct it" Mateson said, speaking to the plant as if it was a human.

He repeated the process with all the strange trees, calling them by their names and checking that their parameters were in order until a beep from the intercom of the greenhouse startled him. The voice of his assistant William resounded on the speakers of the facility.

"Doctor, the specimen you requested has arrived at the lab. We will transport it to the greenhouse as soon as it's prepared"

Excellent, thought Mateson, as his sight focused on a large pot by the end of the greenhouse. The batch of seeds that had sprouted the current inhabitant of the pot was particularly promising. He finished taking notes on his tablet while giving time to William to prepare the stage for his latest try.

Ten minutes later, the pneumatic hiss of the reinforced steel doors that led to the greenhouse signalled the arrival of William, pushing what appeared to be a wheeled stretcher to where Mateson awaited. William reminded him of his own youth and that was why he had chosen him for the post. Ego boost notwithstanding, the youngster was also a genius of world calibre by his won merits, and as deviant, sexual or otherwise, as himself.

As his assistant neared him, Mateson could see the test subject atop the stretcher. It was a small girl, no more than ten years old, her incredibly long red hair spilling to the sides of her temporary bed, skin pale as alabaster with freckles dotting it in good redhead fashion, her eyes closed in a deliciously looking sleeping face. She was the image of innocence, and he almost regretted what they were going to do to her.


After all, she had been born and raised for this moment and, if what he was trying to achieve bore fruit, most, if not all, of the illnesses of the world would be just bad memories for the future generations.

Taking a jar of a transparent greenish gel, he and William started to lather her unconscious tiny body thoroughly, rubbing the concoction across every inch of her unblemished skin. No place was spared, and Mateson smiled when his pants betrayed a raging hard on, similar to the one that his assistant had sported since he had entered the greenhouse.

"I see that you are pretty distracted by this little minx that you have brought, William" Mateson said

"I could say the same, doc!" William answered in good sports.

"It won't do to have our minds elsewhere while we ready the subject, don't you think, my dear William"

"Not at all, but what do you propose to ease this stress that is distracting us both, doc?" William asked as he winked at Mateson.

"I suppose it can't be helped, William. Science demand us to do whatever necessary to remain concentrated in our work" The elder one said loudly as he pointed a finger to the ceiling in a grandiloquent manner.

That exchange was a charade they both had learned to enjoy as they got to knew each other better. The two scientists knew exactly what they wanted from the very beginning and they lost no more time in going for it. Mateson and William quickly unfastened their pants and tossed their underwear aside, revealing a pair of cocks that would have been better suited to horses by the size of them. Almost thirteen inches long and three inches wide, their cocks were courtesy of a successful experiment of their colleagues of the department of animal physiology.

Soon they were buck naked except for their lab coats. Otherwise, how would anyone know that they were scientists? The little girl's flesh was soft and tender and inviting, glistening with gel and perspiration. William had injected her with a cocktail of powerful aphrodisiacs and muscle relaxants, and her body was unwittingly responding to them.

The little girl was no stranger to that kind of attention, of course. Having been born and raised at the facility, she had experienced all kind of sexual stimulus in her short life. The sixth daughter of an experimental subject on the human reproductive research facility, the prettty child was a highly fertile little girl conditioned since birth to be the perfect test subject for whatever experiment the scientists at the expansive facility could devise. Naturally masochistic and submissive as a result of the selective breeding performed on all the previous generations before her she, like dozens of girls and boys like her, was a lab rat in all but name.

Her undeveloped, although not virgin by far, cunny was like putty in the expert hands of doc Mateson, as his fingers pinched and probed the softest undeveloped labia and her inviting opening. Her miniature clit stood erect and a small gush of juices signalled her readiness.

Doc Mateson grabbed her by the ankles and slid her body until her crotch was flush with the edge of the stretcher, which incidentally put her ready snatch at the perfect height for his painfully erect cock to spear her. Meanwhile, William was furiously masturbating while his mouth sucked and bit her flat nipples.

Just for his amusement, Mateson flopped his monster equipment on top of the girl. The head of his rigid penis rested on her chest, just atop her solar plexus. If he penetrated her fully, he would almost reach her heart. Smiling at the size difference, he took his member again, positioned its head at the entrance of her cunt and, with no further ado, rammed his cock, full strength, into a flesh tube which was barely suited for that. He marvelled at the strength of the cocktail that coursed through her veins, developed in the facility, of course, that had allowed her to accept a full third of his manhood without too much difficulty. A small trickle of blood flowed around the impossibly stretched labia of the girl, which struggled to house the gigantic rod that had so thoroughly impaled her.

A penis shaped bulge deformed the girl's previously flat tummy, marking the place where his cock now rested, a bit past her navel. Mateson tenderly stroked the outline of his penis showing through the child skin and muscle, and marvelled at the incredibly taut flesh ring that her labia had formed where their genitals met. The little one was whimpering in her sleep at the monstrous intrusion, and Mateson took that as his cue to begin fucking her in earnest, with slow strokes as long as her body allowed.

William had decided on another approach. While he kept pinching and massaging the darker circles that passed for nipples in her flat chest with one hand, he used the other hand to guide his cock head near her puckered lips. The little whimpers subsided as she felt the glans of William's cock and her sucking reflex kicked in, making her try to fit her mouth around it to lick it, with the practiced motions of a lifetime of training.

Even with the boosts that they had received thanks to the myriad of chemicals and experimental operations, the sight of a ten years old sucking a horse sized cock while her stomach deformed rhythmically with the intrusion of a similarly sized one was too much for the two men, and both cummed at the same time. Mateson filled the womb of the child with baby batter almost to the point of rupture, making a small sized flesh balloon form at the tip of the cock shaped bulge of her abdomen, while William did the same in the girls mouth, overflowing it with semen, making it spurt from her nose and threatening to choke her.

While the girl unconsciously coughed and retched, the two spent men laughed merrily at the mess they had caused, quickly withdrawing their oversized penises from the little child. Mateson's one exited her body with a dirty wet sound that preceded a deluge of pink coloured semen overflowing from her gaping hole, clearly unable to close again. William cleaned carefully the girl's mouth and nose, allowing her to breathe normally again and wiped the tears from her face, the involuntary reflex triggered by their merciless assault.

It was time to return to work, though. The anaesthesia that kept her unconscious and pliable would wear off soon, and they had to make her ready. They didn't even bothered putting clothes on again. For their purposes, the lab coats and forearm length sterile gloves would suffice, as whatever little decency they may had had in the past was long forgotten, buried in the lax customs of the facility.

Both scientists cleaned the girl's body inside out and then resumed the gel lathering until she again regained the greenish tint of the substance. Then, wheeling the stretcher near the big pot that Mateson had prepared earlier, they both raised the limp form of the child and positioned her atop the rim.

The pot itself was akin in shape to a standard garden pot. Apart from the bigger than normal size that would have allowed to house a small sized palm tree, it sported some significant differences that set it aside from the common house variety. For starters, it was made in a near unbreakable alloy of graphene laced titanium.

Multiple cables and connectors fed the soil of the pot with water and nutrients, and measured many parameters like temperature, humidity or pH. Also, the rim of the recipient was moulded anatomically to easily support the girl's legs, fitted with manacles clearly designed to restrain a child sized human, like the one the scientists were positioning over it.

Mateson and William carefully placed the girl's legs until she was kneeling atop the pot, and restrained her with the manacles near her ankles and knees. Her arms were bent backwards until they too reached the rim and also similarly tied. A metal pole extending from the rim was positioned between them, resting in an padded top that supported her back and would keep her from slumping backwards.

The uncomfortable position warranted that the subject would not touch the soil and also wouldn't be able to move for the duration of the experiment, as well as positioning her nethers square atop the current inhabitant of the pot.

A purple bulb, nearly the size of the scientists glans crowned a thick green bumpy stalk almost ten inches tall and three thick. In fact, the scientists had had to carefully bend the flexible pole forward to mount the girl in the pot. Once freed again, the plant resumed its straight position resting at the girls' venus mons. From the base of the stalk sprouted a tendril of similar girth, albeit longer and even more pliant, capped with a pine cone looking brownish head and resting coiled around its parent.

Now, the previous fucking had not been just for the amusement of the two deviant paedophiles. Her little tender snatch still gaped open, arousal fluids leaking from it thanks to the aphrodisiac that flowed inside her, and Mateson took advantage of it to grab the stalk and gently coax it to fill the space his cock had vacated earlier.

The purple bulb, guided by the firm hand of the scientist, parted the delicate and raw folds of the little girl once again. Bit by bit, the huge mass of the bulb penetrated the vagina that would be its new home, helped by the lubrication the test subject was so helpfully dripping.

Once the head had disappeared through the child snatch and the labia had closed around it, the man kept pushing the plant inside until the head of the bulb rested again the girl's cervix and the stalk had returned to it's original upright position.

Meanwhile, William was busy uncoiling the longer sprout at the base of the stalk. Once completely unfolded, the flexible appendage was almost as long as his arm, and he aimed the vicious looking head at the girl's ass. Lubricating his fingers in the juices that run through the child thighs, he inserted two of them in the puckered hole and started pistoning slowly to loosen the tight orifice.

The muscle relaxants had done their magic in that place too, and soon he was finger fucking her with all his fingers sans the thumb. Once he was sure that her asshole was sufficiently dilated, he withdrew his hand and shoved the pine cone head into her gaping orifice, unceremoniously, with little to no regard for the child's comfort.

The poor girl was on the verge of awakening, and was fidgeting restlessly under the expansion of her nethers, mewling under the unfamiliar intrusions. It was the encouragement that William needed to finish his part before she involuntarily clenched her sphincters and make his task more difficult. Once the head was inside her hole, it resembled a particularly long and thick green turd emerging from her ass.

William stopped for a second to bask in that image before resuming his task. Inch by inch, he kept relentlessly feeding the long stalk into the girl's bowels, making it snake its way through the colon, and then the large intestine.

Finally the appendage was, like its parent, standing upright, fully embedded inside the girl's tummy, the head probably around the appendix, ready to enter the small intestine. It was a very erotic sight, both doctors thought, as William rubbed her swollen abdomen, pressing the skin here and there to expose the faint contours of both tendrils inside the girl's innards.

As if on cue, when the vegetable appendices were firmly in their final position, her eyes began to flutter and her moans became more coherent while she struggled to clear her mind from the effect of the anaesthesia. Both scientists looked at her with disinterested professionalism, more worried about the plant than the girl herself. William gathered her long red hair and began to braid it so it wouldn't be in their way while examining the development of the strange plant-human symbiosis.

Finally, the growing pain of her nethers, no longer dulled by the narcotics, fully awoke the restrained little girl in a cascade of cute sounds of discomfort.

What is happening? where am I?" she rambled incoherently for a while, until her mind cleared enough to notice the two naked doctors before her. Once she saw them, everything came back to her. She had been selected from her batch of brothers and sisters to become a subject of an experiment at another lab of the complex.

The girl had been sad to have been separated from her dear sister Chloe, whom she loved much, but after seeing over time how her siblings were taken away one after another, she had eagerly awaited for her turn to be a test subject herself. The excitement brought by the anticipation of her fate was enough by itself to bring her to orgasm every night at her quarters.

"What was your name, again?" asked absent-mindedly the older looking doctor while scanning a batch of papers in his hands.

"Rose" answered the girl without thinking twice, conditioned since birth to obey unquestioningly the authority of any adult.

"A truly fitting name" answered the older doctor with a friendly smile "I am doctor Mateson. Does your tummy hurt, Rose?" he said, patting her belly carefully.

"Yes, it hurts a bit" said Rose, noticing for the first time that her legs and arms were bound backwards and she couldn't move them. She wiggled her fingers to check if she could untangle herself, but to no avail. "I can't move" she added looking at the doctor.

"I know, we have restrained you" answered the doctor, still pushing and prodding her tummy.

"Why?" asked Rose, eager for answers.

"It's for your own security, if you move in your state you could hurt yourself" replied the doctor called Mateson "It seems that the bulbs have rooted well, William. This one is promising!"

William acquiesced silently and went to prepare the catalyst that would begin the experiment for real.

"What is that?" Rose asked again, looking down at the invader that was filling her young holes to capacity and then some more. The sensation was not alien to her, having been trained with dildos and cocks to perform sexually whenever asked for, but the size was surpassing the limit of pain.

"Your companion for the rest of your life, young lady".

"What is the experiment about? William and Greta didn't tell me anything about it".

"You are going to be a subject of a human-plant hybridization experiment" Mateson answered. However, seeing the look of incomprehension on her face he corrected his tone "this plant and you are going to become one, miss"

"What for?" she said, cocking her head. She was not scared, just curious.

"Don't worry about that, Rose, it's an adult thing and you wouldn't understand anyway" he said "What you should concentrate on is in becoming a beautiful flower befitting of your namesake."

To drive the point home, he began to slowly stroke her tiny clit with his hand while he talked. The lingering effects of the aphrodisiac cocktail had made her sexual organs very receptive to stimulation and she began to moan, falling easily into her well learned patterns of pleasure.

The pain in her coochie lessened under the doctor's tender touch, and was slowly replaced by a heat that made her body tingle all over in the most pleasant of ways. While she was panting in ecstasy, she saw doctor William return with a syringe full of pink liquid and then inject in in the base of the stalk that connected her to the pot.

At that moment, the older doctor pinched her clit hard and Rose let a scream that was part pain and part indescribable pleasure, her muscles spasming rhythmically to the tune of her orgasm. To her immature brain, the overwhelming sensation reinforced indelibly earlier imprints. She would become addicted to those kind of heightened climaxes if they repeated themselves too much, that much she could understand.

Post orgasm languor draped over Rose, relaxing her and dulling the stretching pains of her innards. The calmness allowed her to notice changes that she wasted no time in letting her handlers know about.

"The plant is moving!" she exclaimed in amazement.

"We know, Rose, it's doing what is supposed to do" Mateson said, placing his hand over her tummy and feeling through the skin the stirring of the vines inside her.

Both scientists began a mad rush, taking notes on their pads, adjusting switches and buttons on nearby machines and talking excitedly between them in terms that Rose wouldn't ever hope to begin comprehending. She was too concentrated on what was happening on her belly to pay attention to what the doctors were doing. Both the stalks, for she had at last noticed that her ass was also similarly occupied, were doing a strange dance inside her.

Unbeknownst to Rose, the injection that William had administered the plant had triggered a massive cascade of phytohormones, kicking the plant metabolism into full gear. The bulb inside her began to unfold itself, expanding even more her overstretched flesh, and a pinkish blunt tendril, roughly the size of a marker pen, began to poke and prod her cervix, sending painful electric jolts through her tiny body that made her clamp her mouth and grit her teeth.

The tendril, having reached its target, pushed relentlessly, mindlessly fixated on entering Rose's tiny womb to fulfil its purpose. To ease the passage, the appendage secreted a substance that numbed the muscular ring and made it strain and relax consecutively, widening the opening on each pulsation.

Rose relaxed once more as the pain disappeared again, this time replaced with a sensation inside her cunny not unlike clenching and unclenching her fist. Not really pleasurable, but no longer painful. Meanwhile, the tendril on her ass, thanks to the accelerated growth spurt induced by its genetically altered metabolism, was invading millimetre after millimetre of the girl intestines, already having filled the large intestine to capacity and now snaking its way through the coiled ropes of the small intestine. It was a slow progress, and it would take the vegetable tentacle many weeks to completely fill the girl's digestive tract, but it was already cramping her belly awfully, making her feel like she was taking the biggest dump ever.

She worked her abdominals in vain trying to expel the intruder that had triggered her rectum muscles into evacuation mode. The only thing she achieved, though, was a terrible headache. If she had to believe the doctors, that thing was never going to leave her ass, making her excited about the prospect of always feeling the need to poo without being able to actually do it.

Five minutes after the plant growth had begun, Rose's cervix was already soft enough for the tendril to snake inside her uterus and, in a particularly strong contraction, it finally slipped in. Once inside the moist sanctuary, the main body of the plant began pumping liquids up the stalk into that tendril. Rose's uterus began to swell alongside the appendage until a small bump became visible through her abdominal skin, locking plant and girl together even more firmly.

By that point, Rose was crying earnestly from the awful cramping of her cervix and intestines. To distract herself from the pain, she tried to catalogue the myriad of sensations, both familiar and unfamiliar, that radiated from her overstretched innards. It was no good, she thought, as her skin soon wetted with perspiration, the pain was too bad to allow her anything but whimper. Mateson and Williams, for their part, looked very satisfied with themselves, and the older scientist approached the nearly comatose girl, tenderly stroking her sweat drenched face.

"Rest well, Rose, this is just the beginning" he whispered to her ear.

With that, both men turned around and exited the greenhouse, retrieving their clothes in the way, leaving behind a dazed girl as the artificially created abomination slowly invaded her innards. They walked without looking back until the soundproof blast doors that closed behind them silenced her cries of pain from the reverse birth she was experiencing.


Falquian 11-Aug-15 22:11 # 2451 Up to topDown to bottom

Rose awoke early after a restless slumber filled with nightmares where sinister shadows chased her through a jungle chock full of vines that tangled her and slowed her escape. Last night, after the doctors had left her alone, she had spent a full hour crying before exhaustion claimed her. Now that she was awake again, she noticed that the pain was much more manageable, almost at the level she was accustomed handling, back in the nursery. Even her arms and legs were completely numb from their forced immobility, an expected result of extended bondage sessions like those she had practised before.

As the first lights of the morning shined over her bound body through the translucent glass ceiling of the greenhouse, Rose felt how calmness suddenly enveloped her, so powerful that it seemed unnatural even to her young mind. That thought didn't linger in her mind for too long, because as strange as it might have seemed, it dulled the sensations radiating from her tummy.

Unbeknownst to her, the plant invading her body had reacted to the light by releasing a massive amount of different chemicals that soaked her digestive tract and vaginal lining and acted like powerful antidepressants and anxiolytics.

Now calm and sedate, she even had the presence of mind to look at the bulge that had formed in her lower abdomen. The tendril in her cunt stretched her labia taut almost to the point of rupture, a discoloured ring of flesh outlining the phallic invader. She felt stabs of pain there every so often, like when her teacher had taught the children of the nursery how to handle needle play.

Her ass was similarly on fire. The tendril there seemed to have grown over the night, if that was even possible, making her belly packed to the brim, like that time when she had received her first gallon enema. However, she had never felt so stuffed before, and the unfulfilled need to poo was almost overwhelming her.

The chemical cocktail secreted by the plant that now coursed through her veins was, however, slowly shifting her perception of that sensations. The painful stabs and awful cramping didn't go away, but she felt she could deal with, or at least ignore, them. Her training was kicking in, her naturally masochistic side coming to light.

Rose, however, noticed her bladder uncomfortably full, and that was something she could still control. If she was already in position, why shouldn't she make use of the pot so conveniently placed under her? It wasn't like she hadn't peed in public before, and dirt was dirt. She had heard somewhere that pee was good for the plants so, unable to hold it any longer, she shamelessly let her sphincter go, basking on the release of one source of pressure in her innards.

The golden stream seemed unending, and she was still in the middle of evacuating when she heard the hiss of the greenhouse doors and saw the two evil doctors heading to where she was. She should have felt embarrassed as the doctors approached and saw her pissing, but her drug fuelled disinterest had purged her from that particular feeling.

"Do you feel better now, Rose?" Mateson asked her.

"Yes. I needed to pee very much. There is no toilet here, and I can't move" she explained.

"Don't worry about it, dear. Whenever you need peeing, just do so like you have done now"

"Just like this?"

"Of course!" the doc laughed "It's pretty normal, given your situation, and we don't mind. In fact, you are going to discover that you need to pee more and more often from now on"

It was true, part of the changes she was unknowingly undergoing. The plant was feeding her an unnatural amount of liquids that were slowly changing her metabolism and DNA make-up to better integrate both organisms, but a side effect was a nasty liquid imbalance that would need frequent release.

Rose saw William move a portable x-ray scanner in front of her. While she guessed about the purpose of that strange machine, Mateson and his assistant looked at the image that the scanner revealed. Inside the girl's abdomen, the plant had begun colonizing her small intestine. At that rate, in less than two weeks, her whole digestive tract would be full of nothing but vegetable matter. Smaller tendrils sprouted from the main one as it grew, invading the surrounding tissues, assimilating them and feeding nutrients directly to her blood stream. Rose wouldn't have to eat or drink again if she didn't want to, but that didn't mean she couldn't feast on some other things. Things that the scientists would be very happy to provide.

The bulb nested in her uterus had sprouted two smaller protrusions that were filling her fallopian tubes, heading straight for her ovaries. That was the main reason why she had to be so awfully young. For the experiment to yield optimal results, the female subject needed to be prepubescent, as they had discovered after many failures that the hormonal and tisular changes brought by the oestrus rendered the fusion infertile.

Once that detail had been taken into account, the latest iterations of the procedure had produced seeds of a very high quality, such as the one that had birthed the plant that now invaded Rose, and they hoped that the seeds born from this particular unholy union would be the first ones usable to create the very first functional human-plant hybrids down the line.

Both scientists chatted excitedly and Rose, even if she didn't know the meaning of the scientific words they were using, deduced by their tone that everything was going according to their plan. What that meant for her in the end she didn't know and, truth be told, didn't mind. While she was curious about her fate, like any child would, she had been raised to be the perfect test subject for any experiment the scientists developed, or just to be a toy for their sexual relief, and she was happy to be of use to such intelligent and worthy people.

As the sun rose higher and the light bathing her bound body increased, Rose began to sweat profusely, squirming from an itch that wasn't truly an itch. That sensation wasn't strange to her, but it had never come with such an irresistible force behind it before. Mateson and William noticed the change immediately, and winked at each other as if they had been expecting it.

"How do you feel now, Rose?" William spoke to her for the first time.

"It's hot, and itchy, and feels funny down there" she pointed with her chin to her cunt.

"Do you want us to help you with that?" he asked.

"Yes please!" she panted.

Rose wasn't feeling more pain than what her abdomen, asshole and vagina constantly irradiated, but the new sensations growing within her threatened to overload even her trained mind. The memory of what happened last night when she orgasmed so strongly was also conspiring against her self control.

Hormones that lowered her inhibitions and increased her libido such as those the light was prompting the plant to produce were being discharged nonstop into her blood stream, slowly turning her into a sex crazed maniac. All within the parameters, of course, as she needed her reproductive system kicked into overdrive if the experiment was to have a chance of succeeding.

William positioned himself in front of her and started to carefully fondle her undeveloped nipple buds, tickling and rubbing and pinching the dime sized areolas. The sensation was incredibly pleasurable to young Rose, sending small bolts of electricity that made her chest muscles spasm in delicious waves that brought relief to her all consuming lust. The young doctor unfastened his pants and his cock sprang to life, resting its incredible length between Rose's flat tits and presenting the glans to the girl's mouth.

"Suck it, Rose, suck it like you have been trained to!" he commanded her.

Rose obediently kissed the purple head, staining her puckered lips with some of the copious amounts of transparent sticky precum that was already flowing. She licked them and found his taste salty but not unpleasant, definitely better than some of the boys she had fellated before. Even if she wasn't hungry or thirsty, she tried her best to fit his massive cock inside her mouth, in order to wring as much liquid as possible.

"Yes, that's how it's done!" William screamed, tugging at her non-existent teats as long and hard as the flesh allowed, making her yell in pain, so that he could stimulate as best as possible the length of his cock with the skin of her undeveloped chest.

Meanwhile Mateson had crouched between them, looking at the junction where the main tendril met her cunt and marvelling at the ring of taut flesh that her labia had formed. Her clit was very erect, a small crimsom bead beating with arousal. He lapped the nub, expertly peeling it from its hood with his tongue and exposing it to his ministrations. He had a lot of practice at oral sex, and Rose soon found herself moaning with pleasure, the sound muffled by a mouthful of cock.

The next five minutes, both men exercised their expertise in the amatory arts, refined through many test subjects, switching positions to extract the most pleasure from the little strumpet. She had already forgotten why they were doing that, her mind lost in pleasures so much greater than she had previously experienced. Rose sensed how the itch mutated, transformed, moved through her body in waves that found the painful places of her body, increasing in intensity and radiating more strongly, mixing pain and pleasure into the same ecstatic feeling.

With a shrill scream that reverberated through William's cock, buried in her mouth, Rose finally came, her body contracting in the spasms of a massive orgasm, the second one at the greenhouse and already dwarfing the incredible first one.

Her vocal manifestation of pleasure drove both men over the edge too. William filled her mouth in a deluge of cum while Mateson painted her body white in a sticky patina as she slumped forward as much as her restraints allowed, twitching uncontrollably.

Rose's mouth was full with cum, and she savoured the gooey, warm, bitter mass, rolling it through her tongue, scraping it from her teeth, and licking her lips hungrily for more. She always enjoyed how the sticky substance clinged to her throat as it travelled to her stomach.

One of the effects of the treatments they had been administered, apart from the spectacular cock growth, was an increased production of cum and both scientists smiled as they cleaned their members against the patches of Rose's alabaster skin that were still unsoiled. Her face was covered by ropes of the dense liquid, as was her torso and cunt. Mateson as well as William found the sight incredibly erotic, and decided against cleaning the mess. Coming every morning to the greenhouse to be greeted by a ten years old girl bound and covered from head to toe in a crust of dried semen held a strange charm over the two deviants.

"How was that, little Rose?" asked Mateson after regaining his breath "Did you like it?"

"Yes, doctor. Can I have more cum?" she pleaded with puppy eyes while she tried to reach with her tongue any unclaimed bit.

"Of course, semen is healthy for you, my dear Rose" he said, patting her head "We will give it to you everyday, as many times as possible"

"Yay!" she positively beamed.

While Rose relaxed, both men went on to their work monitoring the relevant parameters of the experiment, as well as the rest of experiments going on in their little realm inside the facility. As they moved from task to task, they answered Rose's questions and talked about the menial things of the day by day, or about her life before arriving there. Two more times they frigged Rose to orgasm and fed her with the cum she so craved.

Despite being unable to move, caked with cum in different stages of drying and with a mutant plant invading her body bit by bit, she had never felt so good in her life. Even that constant pain that throbbed in her cunny and the cramping of her bum just seemed to blend into one another, satisfying her lust for pain. If that was what being a test subject was about, she was happy for the brothers and sisters that had preceded her.

That night, when the doctors left, an exhausted Rose went to sleep almost immediately, the wonderful smell of their semen inundating her nostrils. That night she didn't cry in pain anymore, even if she had never stopped hurting. That night, in her dreams, she welcomed the jungle vines that tangled her.


Falquian 11-Aug-15 22:11 # 2452 Up to topDown to bottom
DAY 10

The following days brought a radical change in Rose's behaviour. In just a few days, the morning neurotransmitter overdose from the plant and the orgasmic sessions from the doctors had made her so high that she didn't care that she couldn't move free or even feel her limbs. Only careful daily adjustments of her body chemistry by the scientists kept poor junkie Rose marginally sane.

In order to help keeping her anchored to reality, William had placed a body sized mirror next to the pot so she could see herself whenever she wanted. The mirror was a constant reminder of who she was, but also showed the extent of her progressive transformation. The vine that snaked through her small intestine had already filled it halfway, making her look pregnant with a nest of particularly big snakes.

Each morning brought a renewed growth spurt of the tendrils, and she had become somewhat adept at tracing their movements inside her innards. They were already four inches thick and, apart from filling her to the point of bursting, they had sprouted along her innards, painfully spearing her soft tissues and invading other organs. The doctors even showed Rose from time to time something that looked like an x-ray of her body, pointing what was hers and what was the plant's. Day by day there was a bit more plant and a bit less her.

When she looked at her skin, under the few patches that weren't matted with sticky cum, she could see that it was also slowly changing colour, from pure red-headed alabaster to dryad green. It was also becoming slightly see-through and, under a strong light, she could see on her reflection the faint outline of muscles and bones, as well as the ever increasing vines that criss-crossed them.

That particular day, she awoke with the first sunlight rays to find an exciting change in her body. Her nipple buds had grown through the night, and now resembled two fleshy cones emerging from the cum coating. When Mateson arrived to begin the work day, she swallowed the semen that had been macerating inside her mouth all night long and pointed the fact to him.

"I wondered when they would start showing" he said, fondling the extremely sensitive nubs.

As he stroked and rolled her tender rubbery nipples between his fingers, she could feel something like a hard bean inside them. The friction of her sensitive skin rubbing between doc Mateson fingers and the beans was something wonderful by itself and made her orgasm on the spot.

"I see we are feisty today, aren't we Rose?" Mateson joked

"Yes doctor. Hmm, that feels good, don't stop…" she purred "What are those?" she added, eyes closed in post orgasmic bliss.

"That's a surprise!" the deviant doctor said "One that I wouldn't want to spoil"

Mateson presented his white coated fingers to the girl's mouth for her to clean, a task she did with obvious gusto, and went to work.

That day went more or less like the previous nine. Doctors performing experiments and tests, both on her and on other things around the greenhouse, the daily renewal of the cum layer that coated her inside out, various lengthy pissing sessions, and multiple mind shaking orgasms whenever the scientists were on the mood. However, that evening, a new routine was going to be added to her daily schedule.

"How is the tisular exchange rate going William?" asked Mateson looking at a chart on her pad.

"Twenty percent as of yesterday" answered the younger fellow, taking notes behind a giant flower.

"That means elasticity should be around optimal…" mumbled Mateson "better if we start early before the conversion percentage increases".

Rose watched curiously as Mateson dove between her legs, expecting with a smile another session of mind boggling orgasms. However, the scientist had something else in mind.

He began, as he always did, fondling the child's oversexed clit. The hormones and daily stimulation had made a number on the sex organ. Apart from making it grow, a full inch long and proportionally thick, like a body-builder’s one, it had made it perpetually erect, pulsing crimson at the tune of her heartbeat. The hood had grown alongside it, making Mateson cringe at the unsightly view. He made a mental note to correct that oversight later: a clitoris so beautifully large should never be hidden from view.

Rubbing his index finger up and down, Mateson zeroed on his real target, Rose's peehole. As the child panted with pleasure, tongue lolling out and eyes rolled up, he observed with satisfaction the tiny hole puckering open. Seeing a small yellow trickle, he took a side step and watched how the stimulation made the girl pee herself again. When she finished, sighing in satisfaction, Mateson traced the contours of her labia and lubricated his finger in the juices that flowed between them and the stalk. Once thoroughly covered with the clear fluid, he shoved it unceremoniously inside the girl's peehole.

Rose screamed in shock before the unexpected intrusion. A place narrower than a soda straw had stretched to accept the index finger of a grown man in an instant, and the jolt that thundered through her body had surprised the little child. It hadn't really hurt after all, and the new feeling was akin to the one at her ass. She wanted desperately to pee again, but with such a thick appendage blocking the sphincter she couldn't. Mateson began to piston fuck her last virgin hole with his finger and waved William to come.

"Do you see this?" he pointed with his free hand.

"Hot" was the only answer of the assistant before he went to fetch the tall stool in order to practice what had become his favourite pastime with Rose.

Over the past two weeks, little Rose had struggled to accept more and more of the scientist's oversized cocks inside her mouth. Her goal was to be able to deepthroat them, like she could do with training dildos and normal cocks. Learning how to better perform sexually was what she had been doing since birth, and it felt natural for her to keep at it.

Thanks to the changes her body was undergoing, the feat didn't took long. The very same increased elasticity that allowed her innards to expand to the tune of the plant, or for Mateson to be fingerfucking her urethra, had also softened her throat. Just two days ago, Rose had finally felt William's glans break through the cardias and into her stomach.

Both doctors congratulated the little child profusely, telling her how sexy were her plump lips stretched like an "O" around William shaft, or the wonderful shape her throat took while the bulge of his mighty flesh rod stretched it. They even took photographs and videos of the event, and Rose felt cherished and loved while both men showed her the pictures of her cum coated body and called it beautiful.

While training to deepthroat them she also discovered that, although she could still breath like usually, she could also hold her breath indefinitely if she wanted to, at least during the day. Mateson had explained to her that now, her increasingly green skin acted like the leaves of a plant and gave her cells an oxygen surplus.

She didn't understand any of that, but not needing to breathe was a neat superpower for a cocksucker so proud of her skills like her, so she often made use of that ability, massaging both men's cocks with her throat without fear of suffocation. Once she discovered that fact, she also began keeping her mouth and nostrils full of cum for extended periods of time, enjoying the flavour and odour to the fullest without needing to vacate them. Unless it was to talk or suck cock, she would usually keep her lips shut and their semen inside.

In the wake of her training, William had developed a routine that allowed him to skullfuck Rose without needing to move her. He positioned a tall stool behind her and climbed it. The little girl saw him, smiled in anticipation and tilted her head backwards until her throat was flush with her oesophagus, opening her mouth as wide as she could.

The younger scientist wasted no time and, holding her head for leverage, plunged his full erection into the little minx's inviting hole, reaching the stomach in one thrust and feeling his glans slosh around all the cum stored there. He began skullfucking her in earnest and the sight of her tender throat bulging obscenely in the shape of his cock inflamed his passion, driving him into a frenzy.

Meanwhile, Mateson had added another finger to the mix, making poor Rose overwhelmed by the fierce assault from both ends. The doctor's fingers were stimulating her clitty like never before, rubbing the inside of it for the first time, letting her know about its hidden depths.

She felt her clit radiating the familiar pleasure waves from inner surfaces she didn't knew existed. While William's balls smacked rhythmically her nose, it dawned on her that her clit was like her plant, the roots were hidden from the view, buried in soil or flesh. Those roots were now sending her brain signals so strong that threatened to shut it down.

Before she went unconscious from the over-stimulation, Mateson buried his fingers to the hilt with gut wrenching force and pinched her clit with his free hand. Rose screamed her pleasure through her blocked throat, and the vibrations sent William over the edge. His cum overflowed her already filled stomach, burst upwards and shot from Rose's nostrils and the tight space between her lips and his cock.

Now spent, William withdrew his meat spear from her body and climbed down the stool to see what Mateson had done to her peehole. The previously tiny opening was now gaping and pulsing, spraying little streams of piss to the tune of Rose's orgasmic spasms. She slowly came to her senses and snorted the cum that blocked her nostrils, looking at the scientists with a big grin plastered on her white covered face. Bubbles of cum foamed in her mouth as she spoke.

"Can we do that again? Pretty please?"

DAY 20

Faithful to his own mental promise, some days after claiming Rose's urethral virginity, Mateson prepared the girl for a new modification. He had begun the day spraying Rose's face with a particularly large quantity of cum that had seeped into her eyes and painted her vision white. It wasn't a strange occurrence, though, and she was accustomed to the sting of the substance. She was fluttering her eyelashes madly to clear her eyes from the thick liquid that blurred her field of view and wasn't paying attention to what the doctor was saying.

"Can you repeat what you just said?" asked young Rose while her tears finished the job and her vision returned.

"I'm going to circumcise you, Rose" answered Mateson, re-sheathing his cock into his pants.

"Isn't that for boys only?"

"Not only for them. Here, let me show you" he said, bringing closer the mirror so that she could see her cunt hidden under her belly.

"This is your clit" he pointed grabbing the inch long appendage. It looked like a very small penis, the smooth glans peeking under the hood. "And this is the hood" he added, pinching the flap of skin, lifting it slightly from the clitoral shaft.

Rose was giggling with excitement. Even if Mateson acted all doctor-like and professional, he was still groping the most sensitive part of her body. She was so lucky that such good doctors had chosen her as their test subject.

"Pay attention, Rose!" he twisted her clit playfully, sending an electric jolt through her bound body that refocused her.

"The main body of the clitoris is hidden under the hood, the same way as the foreskin covers the glans of the penis" he continued.

"There is no foreskin on your cocks" she noted.

"Exactly, because we have had it removed just like I'm going to do to you. It's more pleasurable that way" he winked at her.

She nodded in acquiescence, winking in return, which glued her right eye shut and made her laugh. Whatever the doctors did was fine with her, so far all the things that she had experienced had felt good. She still had to live with the pain on her overstretched cunny, her belly still cramped awfully and the feeling of constantly being pooping never abandoned her, but she welcomed them now as much as the pleasure itself.

The older scientist brought closer a wheeled metal tray full of sharp looking steel tools and knelt before Rose's vaginal area. It was a straightforward procedure, thanks to the regenerative abilities that her body had acquired, and he wouldn't need William to assist. Mateson called him nonetheless.

When William arrived, he patted Rose's head in encouragement and knelt beside Mateson, taking care of not obstructing the immobile girl point of view. Mateson then took a clamp and a pair of sharp pointed scissors, abandoning any pretence at subtlety by that point. He used the clamp to take hold of the girl's hood and, lifting it as much as possible, switched to the scissors to cut around the perimeter of her clit, as close as the base as he dared.

Rose was enjoying the procedure. The sharp snips alongside her most sensitive part were no more painful than the myriad of pains that plagued her body constantly and she had learned to live with. The chemically forced rewiring of her brain had obliterated whatever little boundaries remained between pain and pleasure and had exacerbated her masochism to the limit, so while Mateson excised her flesh, she even bit her lip to suppress a growing bout of pain induced orgasms.

The small trickle of blood that flowed from the wound wasn't even red anymore, it had become an orange syrupy sap that hardened as soon as exposed to the air and closed the cuts almost as fast as Mateson made them. The result was that the procedure took less than two minutes and left her clit completely exposed for the first time in her life. Once the foreskin was excised, two more carefully aimed slices took care of the suspensory ligaments that anchored the clit to the labia minora.

The freed appendage now resembled a skinned penis, raw red and throbbing madly, so sensitive that even the slightest flow of air stimulated it. Liberating the clit from its sheath and anchors also made it gain half an inch of length, and without being restricted by the protective flesh, its state of erection made it rise proudly.

Mateson couldn't resist the invitation and swallowed the appendage whole, making Rose finally lose control and cum very vocally. While Mateson used his tongue to explore her feminine appendage, William silenced Rose with a french kiss, an activity that the little girl always enjoyed practising.

Poor Rose was in seventh heaven. The tongue of Mateson was exploring the shaft of her freed womanhood leaving no area untouched, while his teeth nibbled her flesh and added painful stabs to the array of sensations her clit was feeding her. She kept moaning into William's mouth, their tongues intertwining in the lewd dance her teachers had shown her.

The trio kept at it until it was clear that her mind and body couldn't cope any more. Both scientists whitewashed her torso and face with a new layer of their essence, carefully keeping the throbbing nub clean so Rose could enjoy it's sight the rest of the day.

Once she regained her voice she admired the results in the mirror. The painfully erect appendage was scalding hot, shiny with spit and vaginal juices and framed by a string of her own mutated blood, coagulated like sap. To her young mind, the ring of amber beads became a tangible proof of the doctors' love for her, a crown worth of a princess. The heat waves that radiated from the mauled organ flowed up to her brain and reinforced her chemically induced love for both scientists.

"It's so beautiful!" she managed to whisper before closing her eyes in a comatose post orgasmic state.


Falquian 11-Aug-15 22:12 # 2453 Up to topDown to bottom
DAY 30

The weeks after the hoodectomy, William carefully implemented his plan to develop Rose's urethral elasticity. The deviant assistant had set her new goal to stretch her urethra until their cocks could penetrate it. What use was having a pretty naked under-aged girl, unwilling to resist your sexual advances, if you couldn't fuck her however you wanted?

Little Rose had become more a nimpho than she had started being, always starved for any kind of stimulation, so she took to this new lesson with renewed enthusiasm. She didn't have the same possibilities as with her mouth, given her state of immobility, but nonetheless, she tried her best to learn how relax her sphincter as much as she could, or how to use it to exert selective pressure to whatever traversed its length.

The scientists for their part procured some different sized sounds and vibrators from another lab and trained her peehole to accept longer and thicker insertions. Little Rose became giddy with excitement every time Mateson or William unveiled a bigger sized toy. The sensations produced by stretching that hole, and the pleasure it elicited as the progressively bigger phallic objects expanded her innards was indescribable.

The little child went ecstatic every time they shoved a vibrator up her urethra, broke through the sphincter and entered her bladder. She rolled up her eyes and her head collapsed backwards as all the nerves around the piss tube and the roots of her clitoris became on fire. She would often ask William to put his fingers inside to check how she had improved at using her muscles to give a massage.

As a result of the intensive training regime, Rose discovered a new pair of interesting things. The first one was that she had become functionally incontinent. The frequency of their fuckings made her urethra unable to return to its original size after each session, so a small trickle of piss always drained down her peehole unless it was plugged somehow.

The second one was that her bladder was stretching like a water balloon, at its maximum length resting somewhere around her navel. She knew that because she once saw the full contour of a flexible vibrator through the skin of her misshapen belly. Her hide was so taut and thin that she sweared she could distinguish the pink colour of the vibrator through the now semi-translucent layers of green flesh.

Her nipples had kept growing thanks to the beans, or whatever they were, inside them, and now they were the size of a pregnant mother's. Half an inch long, the cone shaped flesh mounds were a source of great pleasure to Rose. The friction on the inside of her flesh caused by those things whenever Mateson or William played with them was deliciously nasty, like picking on a scar, and the thought that something was on its way to exiting her body through there filled her with a childlike maternal pride.

That morning, Mateson had brought a pair of thin tweezers with him as he approached Rose. Her daily routine included a variety of measurements, blood sampling, injections and scanning, but that particular tool was new. The novelty factor always interested Rose, so she tried to focus on the doctor even as the latest vibrator plugging her bladder fed her orgasm after orgasm.

"What are those for?" she asked, her voice trembling in barely contained pleasure.

"You will see. You are becoming very impatient for a plant, aren't you?" retorted Mateson.

That was something that the doctors were insisting on a lot, lately. Well, she couldn't move, she was rooted to the soil of her pot, she didn't need to eat or drink, even if she could somehow digest semen, and sunlight made her very happy. Above all she had become green and, even if she still hadn't leaves or flowers, since all the process started her body had undergone so many changes that she believed it was just a matter of time.

Mateson approached her chest and used his trusty water soaked sponge to wipe clean it from the omnipresent dense coating of cum. Then, he placed the tweezers points dead center on her right nipple and began to push. The pore that had appeared when the nipples first started growing had become a veritable small hole, and the tweezers slipped inside once Mateson wormed a bit the metal tool.

Rose couldn't quite describe the sensation that the tweezers were eliciting inside her nipple. It wasn't painful, nor pleasant, but something hovering in-between. Definitely another interesting feeling to add to her ever growing catalogue of aches and pleasures and something to look for in the future. Once he was deep enough, Mateson released his grip on the tweezers, allowing the points to separate and forcing the small opening even wider, making Rose yelp in surprise.

The scientist then looked closer and a smile formed in his face.

"I see it's progressing well" he said, taking a hand mirror from a nearby tray and placing it so Rose could see it too.

"What is that?" she said, angling her head to see better.

Deep inside the hole, the tweezers had exposed something shiny, red and blunt tipped. She couldn't imagine what that red thing that nested inside her breast was, but before she could ask Mateson, the hole filled with a clear golden liquid that pooled into a drop at the very tip of the nipple.

The scientist scooped with his index the small amount of that mysterious liquid and tasted it with a look of satisfaction plastered on his face. Rose was bewildered by what was flowing from her undeveloped flat chest and, when Mateson re-coated his finger with the stuff and presented it to her mouth, she sucked it without thinking.

"Tastes sweet!" she said with admiration, barely remembering the last time something sweet had graced her palate.

"Indeed it is. This fluid will lubricate your nipple when it births that red thing you have seen, and its twin" he said while extracting the tweezers and repeating the operation on her left nipple.

"But what are they? You haven't told me yet" she pouted.

"All in good time. Remember that I promised you I wouldn't spoil the surprise?" he answered, as a fresh dollop formed on her now unblocked teat.

Once both nipples were dripping the golden liquid, Mateson did something that heavily amused little Rose. He latched on her right nipple and began sucking the sweet nectar as if he was a baby drinking milk from his mother. She felt the release of a source of internal pressure she hadn't noticed before, and sighed with satisfaction.

During a blissful moment, Rose felt like a mother feeding his child. She reminded how her own mom had always been available for her children whenever they felt like drinking milk, back in the nursery. Her oversized breasts, almost as big as her children were, always had one child or another latched into the teats, eagerly drinking the sweet white liquid.

Mateson finished draining her right nipple and repeated the operation with the left one. Once he had done both, he dove straight for her lips and kissed passionately the little girl. As their syrup coated tongues coiled and uncoiled in the dance of love, she thought that her new life couldn't be better.

DAY 40

From the day Mateson had unblocked her nipples, that sweet nectar hadn't stopped flowing. The constant trickle formed a pair of sticky paths that run straight to her hips and then dripped into the soil, diluting the perpetual cum coating on their way. From the distance it looked like she was dressed with a white t-shirt decorated with two vertical golden lines.

Every day, Mateson or William took a small sound and scraped the inside of her nipples, unblocking the tubes from the dried syrup that had accumulated during the night. Then, they relieved the girl from the excess liquid with obvious gusto, much to her chagrin at seeing the traditional roles of adult and child reversed.

The range of activities they indulged in was slowly expanding. However, both scientists always managed to find time for their pretty test subject, and playing with her ever growing clit, coating her on a fresh layer of cum or stretching her urethra never was out of their schedule.

Rose was, in fact, savouring the last load that Mateson had deposited inside her mouth when he saw William entering the greenhouse carrying an enormous bag. He closed on her place and with a loud "thud" dropped the bag to the floor, straightening while he massaged his kidneys.

"That bag weighted a ton! I must be getting old" he winked at her.

"What's inside?" she asked candidly.

"Oh, just plain ol' fertilizer for your roots, Rose. Nothing exciting this time, sorry" he apologized.

She was a bit disappointed, but the fun never really ended in the greenhouse and she was sure both of them would come with a surprising new experiment to try on her sooner or later.

William opened the bag and went for some gardening tools. Fortunately, the plant required little maintenance, and most of the nutrients needed soaked the soil regularly through the tubes connected to the pot. However, from time to time, it was necessary to renew the soil and add some substances that could not be delivered through water. It was, in fact, the first time such an operation had been performed, so Rose felt curious about it.

The foul odour of the fertilizer slowly started to fill the greenhouse. It was an earthy smell, deep and acrid, that remembered Rose of the diaper changing time, back at the nursery. That daily activity was so distant that it now seemed to have happened to a different girl. Unexpectedly, the stench stirred her bowels, and reminded her of a need she hadn't experienced since she had been planted there. She was suddenly hungry.

She didn't know what to think. How could that manure smell so appetizing? Fertilizer was food for plants after all, people didn't eat that. Immediately it dawned on her, it was so obvious that she would have slapped her forehead if she had retained the use of her hands. She was not human anymore, as the doctors insisted time after time, she was now a plant. When William returned with his tools and began to work with the dirt of her pot she didn't hesitate asking.

"Can I have some of that?" she said, looking at the opened bag "I'm suddenly very hungry"

William looked at her in a stunned silence for a moment. Then he nodded with his head.

"Sure, sweetheart. Let me finish this and I 'll let you try some"

William wasn't really shocked about Rose asking for fertilizer. He had been surprised that it had happened so soon. That could only meant that the process was more advanced than what Mateson and him had estimated. A good sign and an indicator that the specimen was of prime quality. Of course, her new needs, triggered by the appendage nesting in her stomach, opened a new batch of exciting activities that he had enjoyed very much with past test subjects.

Once he had finished renewing the soil that supported Rose's vegetable symbiont, he used a hoe as a spoon and scooped a small amount of the earthy substance from the bag, presenting it to the child. Rose licked the brown heap and chewed a little bit.

The taste was ten times worse than the smell, it flooded her mouth and nostrils and made her light headed. It was positively awful and stinky, and she liked it. She rolled the small amount through all the corners of her mouth, trying to extract as much flavour as possible from the fertilizer, pretty much the same she did with the wonderful semen.

William had observed her every reaction and, as soon as she swallowed that first sample, he moved the hoe closer to her lips. She opened her mouth wide and devoured all the contents of the gardening tool, a happy expression plastered on her face as she munched on the manure.

It was not perfect though, and she let William know.

"I like it very much, thank you!" she began "It's a shame it crunches so much on my teeth."

"Well, Rose, it's fertilizer after all. It needs to have soil mixed in"

"But it's so unpleasant" she protested, her teeth gritting with the little grains.

"Hmm" he started reflexively "I think the only way to avoid that is going straight to the source, before it has been mixed with dirt" he explained dutifully.

"The source?"

"Yes, you know what I'm talking about Rose, you are very intelligent. Where do fertilizer come from?" he asked.

"From poo?" she said, not very sure.

"Poo! Exactly! Very good, Rose" he congratulated her while stroking her inch long clitoris.

Rose felt very good with herself. Of course it was poo! how silly of her to not have thought about that sooner: the smell told it all.

"But how can I get poo? I haven't done it since I came here"

"Well, you have doctor Mateson and me" he said "I'm sure he will help you as well once I tell him"

"Really? Will you do that for me?" Rose yelled excitedly.

"Of course, darling, how could we refuse our precious plant girl?" he patted her head "In fact, I was going to go to the toilet soon. I have to dump a big one, do you want it instead?"

"Can I? For real?"

"Of course! let me fetch the stool"

He went to her backside to take his trusty stool that served him so well to skullfuck the little lady and secured it on front of her. The same way that his cock was level with her head whenever he climbed it put his asshole at the correct height. He dropped his pants and boxers and climbed the stool, this time presenting his asshole to her mouth instead of his cock.

It took a bit of manoeuvring to position himself correctly but, when he felt the tongue of the vivacious girl probing tentatively his ass, all the discomforts of his forced posture felt more than worth it. He spread his ass cheeks with his hands to give her better access, and saw doctor Mateson looking at them intently.

"Already?" was all he said.

"She is very precocious" William answered, moaning when he felt the tip of her tongue entering his puckered hole. No matter how many girls they experimented on, he never got tired of that.

"I wouldn't want to miss this for anything. Think she will want more once she is finished?"

"I'd bet on it, boss"

The stimulation of her wet, flexible tongue was too much for his sphincters to keep holding their cargo, so he relaxed and felt a big turd sliding down the chute.

Rose was delirious. Once she had taken the first licks, she became entranced by the musky aroma of his fresh shit. She dug into the hole trying to coax the tasty treat hidden inside, so she sucked and tongued and lavished his hole inside out as best as she could. Her efforts were soon rewarded when she felt something hard pushing against her tongue.

The fresh turd began his travel down and Rose opened her mouth as wide as possible to accept it into her waiting maws. When the tip touched her palate the foul flavour flooded all her taste buds and, closing her eyes, she felt how the slimy, thick turd began to slide effortlessly from his ass directly into her. The rope of crap wasn't as thick as their cocks, so she just relaxed her throat and let it flow continuously in an unbroken line straight to her stomach, closing her lips around it to better feel the texture of the log as it passed. Rose didn't dare to chew, she wanted it all and wasn't risking the turd breaking if she closed her mouth.

Mateson lost it when she kissed the turd and saw her throat bulging with its mass while she used her muscles to force its travel downwards. He was openly masturbating in front of the perverse scene, his eyes barely believing the pleasure he saw in the girl's face as she practically inhaled the fecal substance.

William's load was fairly substantial, but he finally finished dumping it and pinched his sphincter close. Rose took this as her cue to close her mouth around the tail of the shit snake and began chewing the morsel. Her teeth broke the soft material easily, aided by her copious salivation, and she enjoyed the bland texture a lot more than the grainy one of the manure. She kept munching the substance until her mouth was full of creamy shit, enjoying how the overwhelming taste and odour soaked her every fibre.

She only stopped when long ropes of cum launched from Mateson's cock landed straight on her face, covering her eyes and blinding her with the stinging bite of the semen. Looking at the older man through a veil of translucent white she smiled and dutifully swallowed the load, feeling how the tendril at her bowels writhed in response to the substance. Her plant symbiont celebrated the influx of nutritive material with a cascade of hormones that filled her brain with a satisfied languor.

"Can you give me some more? I'm still hungry" she said mischievously, her breath smelling like an open sewer.


Falquian 11-Aug-15 22:12 # 2454 Up to topDown to bottom
DAY 50

Having a sweet mouth eager to accept their daily excrements, both scientists discarded the use of toilets altogether to have their assholes lavished by her flexible wet tongue. Rose didn't even object to rinsing her mouth with their piss after every feeding of either cum or shit and soon, whenever they needed to relieve themselves of solid or liquid waste, they reached for the little strumpet.

Now that the plant was receiving additional nutrients daily, its growth accelerated exponentially, changing her body more and more, in overt as well as subtle ways. With her mouth doubling as a toilet, it was not long until Rose felt one of such alterations.

It happened some days after that first session, while she was trying to down a particularly long and thick turd from doctor Mateson. It was so long and consistent that the beginning had firmly lodged itself at the bottom of her oesophagus and the end protruded slightly past her open lips.

Rose was chewing dutifully to try to soften the dark brown mass, while at the same time working her throat muscles, in the same peristaltic motions that both men liked so much when she deepthroated them, to ease the passage of the massive log. The vibrations of the latest toy stuffed in her urethra reverberated through all her body, distracting her from feeling the change at first, but when the turd finally decided to continue sliding towards her stomach she definitely noticed it.

"Doctor, I think my teeth are loose" she said sending a waft of foul fumes towards Mateson.

"Let me take a look then" he answered, having just finished injecting the girl with one of the many substances needed for the experiment.

Being a pervert without limits, Mateson found her new smell quite erotic, and he opened her filthy mouth to take a look at her brown caked teeth. Using his index finger, he prodded here and there, confirming what the girl had just said.

"Indeed, they are loose" he said "I think it's better if we remove them now, lest you swallow one by accident"

"Why are they like that?" Rose asked, unable to resist her tongue from probing one loose tooth after another.

"The calcium of you body is being redirected to other purposes, and their roots are withering away"

She gazed at him with a look of incomprehension, but also complete faith, in his words. The reasons were unimportant to her, all she wanted was reassurance that everything was proceeding as it should.

"Don't worry, it's all according to plan" he calmed her "I'll go fetch the pliers and we will get rid of them right now!" he finished, patting her head and making her flash a smile that soon would be devoid of white.

The tool rack nearby had a pair of pliers suitable for the work. He wouldn't need to take special cautions, or even disinfect the area. Her immune system was pretty much impervious to infection by that point. Mateson could have slashed her skin open and stuff the wounds with shit and nothing would have happened. Her improved regenerative abilities would shut down any bleeding almost immediately and, in less than twelve hours, her gums would be whole again.

Armed with the chosen pliers, Mateson went to the bound girl and commanded her to held her mouth open as wide as possible. He grabbed her upper left incisive and moved the tooth back and forth.

The excruciating process didn't even make the girl flinch. Worse pains plagued all her body all the time, and she had learned to accept them into every fibre of her being. She was the very definition of a perfect masochist, pain and pleasure holding the exact same meaning to her.

Once he felt it was loosened enough, Mateson suddenly tugged downwards with more strength and the tooth left her mouth in a swift and smooth movement. True to his words, the brown stained root was corroded as if it had been dipped in a strong acid.

He left the tooth in a nearby tray and looked at the hole he had made. The orange sap that had replaced the girl's blood was flowing slowly, already hardening around the wound.

Satisfied everything had proceeded so smoothly, he grabbed the pliers again and chose another tooth to continue the operation. After extracting all the loose pieces, Rose's smile had turned into the toothless grin of the older people.

"You have done very well, Rose" he complimented her.

"Zude I haf" she answered in the accent that now would color her every word, making her giggle at the strangeness of it. It would take her a while to acclimate herself to her new voice, but Mateson knew that her young and pliable mind would soon learn to compensate for the difference until it was barely noticeable.

While the scientist used the vibrator to fuck relentlessly her peehole in reward for her bravery, making her cum again and again, she tried to keep her mouth open to see the results in the mirror, exposing the brown cave dotted with orange spots as much as possible, and probing each and every corner with her shitty tongue. Like everything else done to her, she approved of the new style.

DAY 60

The daily deepthroatings went on to become even more pleasurable for both men, as Rose learned to use her bare gums to massage their cocks on their way in and out of her throat. The loss of her teeth had increased slightly the diameter of her mouth, allowing her to more easily accept their penises, making it seem that she breathed in the meat rods rather than swallowing them.

All in all, her mouth and throat had become the perfect sex sleeve, a condom of flesh to wrap around their monstrous dongs, soft and tender through all its length. Just like a second cunt, as the first one was in permanent use.

Her urethra was also well on its way to accept their oversized cocks, although that didn't stop the scientists enjoying it as much as possible. Day by day, the girth and length of the vibrators was increased, forcing the girl's sphincter to the absolute limits of its elasticity.

In fact, the rubber dongs, having reached and surpassed the boundaries of even her improved tissues long ago, were already tearing the urethra, making dozens of small cuts here and there when the flesh gave way under the relentless assault. Her piss tube stung fiercely with the friction of the fuckings and the constant flow of acidic urine, but small wounds like those healed almost instantly, increasing the diameter of the muscle on every iteration.

The consequence was that her peehole was always on fire, and she loved every second of it, as it synchronized wonderfully with the sensations that radiated from her clit whenever she cummed.

As days went by, the vines kept slowly growing inside her. The one at her ass had traversed all the digestive tract and now coiled inside her stomach, poking its walls from time to time and therefore adding the constant need to puke to the constant need to poo. She would usually retch partially digested mouthfuls of runny shit, mixed with a healthy amount of piss, cum and traces of nipple syrup. However, her naked body was so filthy with layers of those very substances that neither her or the scientists bothered cleaning them. She even came to enjoy the taste of the bile mixed into the foul cocktail when it came the wrong way.

Both tendrils had increased their girth as well as their length, and now, little Rose wouldn't have had the least difficulty in passing a baby through both holes without dilating first. The plant had continued to consume her bones for calcium and other micro nutrients, and it had made her hips warp around the thick tendrils. Even her ass cheeks were now doughnut shaped, wrapping around the woody invader.

That particular day, doc Mateson had busied himself thoroughly examining her arms and legs. The lack of use and the invasion of the ever growing tendrils had painlessly consumed the muscle and bone, and now they were just withered husks, ghosts of their former shape.

"They will never be able to move again Rose, I fear" he explained "although this was an expected result of the experiment"

"Well, if I have grown accustomed to not feeling or seeing them, I don't see any difference in having or not having them" she nonchalantly said, her toothless accent barely noticeable by that day.

"Do you want me to remove them?" he asked.

"Why not? I can't even see my legs because of my belly" she said, looking lovely at her bizarrely pregnant belly and the dildo that merrily vibrated the length of her bladder, slowly suffusing her body in an orgasmic haze that would have turned an unaltered woman's mind into mush.

"Al right then, I will remove them asap" Mateson said cheerfully "William, prepare the saws and the rest of the surgical equipment. Do you want anaesthesia, darling?" he asked, turning again at her.


"Your limbs are already dead for all that is worth, but maybe you don't want to see the actual operation"

"Then no, I'm having too much fun right now to go to sleep!" she flashed a toothless grin at Mateson.

While the mad scientist wondered at how her mind had changed so much in such a short period of time, he and William prepared the tools for the operation that would render Rose into a living torso. It wasn't a difficult operation, given their state of colonization, it was more like cutting the limbs of a tree than the limbs of a human.

Rose watched with curiosity the development, fluttering her eyelashes madly to remove a drop of semen that threatened to obstruct her vision. Mateson and William tied her braided hair in a top bun and cleaned the caked layers of cum and shit around the hips and shoulders, just to see what they were doing, not because they needed sterility. They would begin with her left arm, and the curious child turned her head as much as she could so as to not miss any of the action.

Using a small electric circular saw, Mateson began making deeper and deeper cuts around her left arm, as close to the shoulder as possible. No blood flowed from the cuts while Rose saw her limb slowly detach from her body, just the thick amber sap that she first saw when her clitoris was circumcised.

It wasn't painful, as doc had said, but she still somehow felt the cold unyielding steel of the saw penetrating deeper and deeper into her arm. The inside wasn't just red muscle and white bone as she could have expected, it included a tangled mass of hardened root-like tendrils that intertwined between her human parts and oozed that already hardening sap.

When the scientists were almost done, William took a paring knife and peeled a circular patch from the skin that was still attached to her body and, as Mateson dislodged the rest of the arm with a slight crunching sound, he used that skin flap to cover the circular wound that marked the place where her arm had been. The sticky sap clung to the flap and kept it in place, sealing the borders and making it seem like she had never had that limb to begin with.

Rose felt immediately lighter, as one of the bounds that had kept her in that forced position had been removed, and congratulated herself on allowing the doctors to detach her useless limbs. She could hardly wait for the remaining appendages to be cut.

The operations went as smoothly as they expected. In less than an hour, Rose had been relieved of her old motor appendages and was now supported just by the incredibly thick tendrils that distorted her hips and ass so much. She was standing straight for the first time since she had arrived at the greenhouse, and she enjoyed the sensation.

Doc Mateson displayed her arms and legs atop a tray in front of her. She thought that she should be feeling something when seeing body parts that not an hour ago still belonged to her, but the almost woody appendages that resembled human limbs did not feel like hers, and she didn't experience regret or remorse over having lost them.

"Now you are truly your namesake" said Mateson with finality.


Falquian 11-Aug-15 22:13 # 2455 Up to topDown to bottom
DAY 70

The days after losing her arms and legs Rose regretted not having asked before. The stumps had healed very quickly and without scarring and now she just looked to had been born without limbs. Being only a torso she felt contradictorily freer, standing straight on her pot like a proper plant should. In hindsight, she thought she should have asked as soon as she was planted.

Her new body had also the added benefit of improving her sex life. Now that her limbs weren't in the way, William or Mateson could bend her still flexible body and trunk backwards to easily reach her mouth, without needing the stool to get to the correct height and angle.

William in particular had increased the frequency of his skullfucking sessions and, being better aligned for his cock when positioned that way, she could feel his meat sausage stretch her throat all the way down her stomach in an unimpeded straight line. That position allowed him to increase the strength with which he pounded her, and she enjoyed his unrestrained brutality as his balls smacked her nostrils and his cock left her throat raw.

The young scientist was in that way occupied, banging Rose skull in one of his idle hours when Mateson approached the stuffed girl from the front to check on the long dildo spearing her urethra. The outline of the soft rubber dong was perfectly visible, its shape traversing the mound of Rose's lumpy belly up to her ribcage.

Like a dog cock, in order to secure the toy inside her, a small inflatable bulb at its base kept the dildo firmly anchored inside her, so Mateson turned a knob at the bottom to let the air out and allow its removal.

With a dirty wet sound, Mateson withdrew the plastic appliance from the girl's piss tube, prompting a golden stream to flow leisurely from the, almost three inches wide, raw hole.

"I think she is ready" he commented.

"Do you think so, boss?" William asked.

"Only one way to find" Mateson smiled "it's not like she won't heal even if I'm wrong".

Rose's throat was massaging William's cock as expertly as always, the peristaltic contractions wringing it from the root to the head in the well practised motions that mimicked swallowing. That she didn't need to take a breath had increased her performance so much it seemed almost ridiculous.

While Mateson unfastened his pants, William came hard with a grunt just inside Rose's stomach, adding another serving of cum for the tendril inside to help digest. Totally spent, he slowly extracted his cock from the hot tight tube that for so long had doubled as her occupied vagina and asshole. Not anymore, if Mateson was right about her peehole.

As his gigantic cock left Rose's mouth, William could feel her tongue trying to clean every last trace of his essence mixed with her stomach sludge. Her gums tickled his glans on its way out, the rubbery texture pressuring his most sensible spots without making any damage, Rose having teased them with playful harmless bites.

"Are you going to put your dick inside my peehole at last?" she asked looking at Mateson, now that her mouth was vacated.

"Yes, right away, if William is so kind of keeping you in that position"

"Of course doc" he replied, putting his hands on Rose's shoulders, maintaining her almost horizontal position and, at the same time, inching his torso forward to avoid missing any of the action.

Mateson's cock was significantly thicker than the last toy he had just extracted, but he liked his holes tight and time was running low for him to enjoy this particular fetish. Rose had already passed the halfway mark of her transformation process, and her human flesh wouldn't last much longer.

Carefully, the old scientist angled his penis until the head rested at the very entrance of her piss chute, and lubricated his glans with the never-ending trickle of her urine. Once he was sure he was positioned just right, he warned the little girl.

"Prepare yourself, Rose".

Unwilling to wait a minute longer, he decided to ditch any semblance of care and rammed his rock hard cock to the hilt, full strength, in a single movement, making Rose gasp in shock at the brutal intrusion.

It was definitely thicker than all the previous training toys she had experienced. Her silent scream was the consequence of thousand of muscle fibres giving way and rupturing at the same time, the inner mucosa tearing alongside them in dozens of places and soaking in the highly acidic piss that coated the passage.

Mateson was just keeping his cock buried and her urethra already burned like all fires of hell. Her sphincter had been completely obliterated by the initial thrust, the ring of muscle shredded to pieces, never to close again. Her bladder had followed suit, taking on the shape of the scientist's cock, it became similarly ruined, the ureters almost torn apart from it by the extreme distortion of the organ. The top of her bladder was now buried past her flexible diaphragm, poking her fluttering heart and robbing her of the capacity to articulate any sound.

The mad doctor was just standing still, marvelling at how the beat of her heart stimulated his glans like a vibrator, enjoying the sight of poor Rose trying to scream uselessly. Unable to utter a sound, she just went for the next best, and vomited almost all the contents of her stomach on William's legs.

She kept retching for a long time, until her digestive tract had emptied itself of its foul contents and the muscles of her abdomen had settled. Having regained part of her wits, thanks in no smaller part to Mateson keeping mercifully motionless, Rose could raise her head again and winked feebly at her torturer in reassurance, even if her face was a mess of brown and yellow runny chunks that kept flowing from her mouth and nostrils.

The whole ordeal was painful as fuck, but for Rose that just meant enhanced pleasure instead of torture. Now that she could concentrate on the hot meat rod inside her innards, she couldn't suppress a smile of delight at how her belly had taken the shape of the cock, its tip touching her heart. It was the deepest connection she had ever felt with any human being, and it moved her to tears to have such caring scientists as her handlers. She was a very lucky test subject indeed, and she hoped her good sister Chloe would find someone as good as them.

Having confirmed that she had accustomed to the flesh spear, Mateson started to move his hips slowly at first, increasing the pace as the blood and pee lubricated his cock. He soon settled into a constant pistoning motion that threatened to drive little Rose mad.

The diminutive redhead was enjoying the ride of her life. Mateson's equine sized member, having stretched the passage past the point of rupture, moved in and out meeting absolutely no resistance. Even if she tried to clench her urethra to give the doctor more friction, her torn muscles wouldn't respond to her commands. Each movement of his penis scrubbed raw the fresh cuts, rubbing away the newest layer of healing blood sap and drenching them in piss once more. The fire that coursed through the length of the flesh sock that her urinary tract had become never relented, never waned.

However, her masochistic nature, reinforced over the last months, had taken over her psyche again. The pain mingled seamlessly with the pleasurable sensations that radiated both from his pubic mons smacking rhythmically her two inch naked clitoris body, and from tits overstimulated deep roots, stretched taut inside and around the opening of the urethra.

She experienced orgasm after orgasm, every new one piling atop the previous, multiplying exponentially until the sensory overload threatened to fry even her modified nervous system. When William regained his strength and thrust his own cock down her throat she barely noticed, allowing him unrestricted passage just from the force of habit.

Speared from peehole to mouth, Rose could feel how both scientists synchronized themselves until their cocks bumped at her heart from both ends simultaneously. She was so full of meat and plant that, for the first time, she saw herself as an empty vessel, a stuffed toy deprived of its filling. Only while the plant consumed her was she useful, only when the cocks penetrated her holes was she complete. If she had no plant or no cocks, she would deflate and be left in a corner, forgotten, useless.

Just as she was having that epiphany, the scientists finally cummed inside her. With one final earth shattering orgasm, exhaustion finally claimed her consciousness. She barely felt their cocks leaving her body and, as the after spasms of the brain melting orgasms suffused her body, she drifted to sleep with a satisfied smile plastered on her face.

DAY 80

"I wonder how I will look in the end" she said absent-mindedly once she had finished swallowing William's morning dose of shit, semen and piss.

"What do you mean?" asked the intrigued scientist.

"I'm going to become a tree, aren't I?" Rose answered, matter of factly.

Surprised by her nonchalant attitude at her fate, William warmed to the little green child and stroked her cum and shit stained cheek. Even if she had been conditioned to be an obedient test subject, like all her predecessors, Rose was, by far, the most cheerful about her destiny.

"Yes, that's true" he smiled at her "What has that to do with how you will look?"

"Well, trees don't have eyes, do they?"

"No, they don't"

"Will I have eyes?"

"No, you will lose them as well, I'm sorry" he said with genuine regret.

Rose nodded, seemingly unaffected by those news. Like the loss of her limbs, she was taking her dehumanization in stride.

"It was just that I would have liked to see how I will look in the end"

William felt another surge of empathy for the little girl but, seeing the leftover brown lumps of his shit that had fallen on her chest and clung to her sticky cum covered skin, he had a bout of inspiration, a wicked idea that stirred his loins.

"Maybe we can arrange something" he scratched his chin "Let me fetch Mateson, he still needs to dump his number two"

Rose licked her lips and looked at him curiously, but didn't say anything else while the young assistant went to look for the older man.

Mateson had been busy diluting some serums but, as soon as William shared his idea with him, he paused his work, swallowed a fast acting laxative from a nearby medicine cabinet and hurried to Rose's side.

"William has told me that you would like to see how you will look as a tree" he began.

"I was just thinking out loud. I can see trees all around me, after all" she answered, unsure about their intentions "William has explained to me that I won't be able to see after I am one myself, so it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"We have had an idea to fix that. William, will you please bend her?" he said, unfastening his pants.

Now Rose was really curious and when the assistant took her by her shoulders and slowly bent her body backwards again, she decided to just go along for the ride. The sensation of her vegetable filling shifting slightly as it bent with her always sent delightful shivers up her spine. Through the mirror, she could see her pulsing clit stand erect vertically, as if it was a red mountaineer ready to climb the mountain of her belly, and the mental image made her giggle.

Mateson, now pants less, used the stool to climb the pot and crouched above the horizontal form of her body, using her round belly as a support, and Rose saw his puckered anus clenching and unclenching, showcasing its readiness to expel its cargo. Her unnatural hunger made her want to attach her pretty mouth to his bum and suck all the delicious shit from his bowels, but William was keeping her in place so her object of desire was out of reach.

In short notice, though, Mateson felt the kick of the powerful laxative and, with a grunt of discomfort, a rope of brown soft shit emerged from his asshole. Gravity assisted its smooth travel through the short distance that separated it from her chest. The unbroken tube of waste coiled in a neat spiral pile between Rose's nipples and the lumpy mound of her belly until the tail of the shit snake appeared and the doctor clenched his hole in satisfaction.

As he climbed down the stool, Rose admired the fairly substantial amount of faeces that warmed her chest and stimulated her nostrils with their smell. Had she had arms, she would have scooped the faecal matter and stuffed her face with it, so strong was her newly found desire for shit.

Both scientists looked at her mouth and saw, to their perverse delight, that she was literally drooling at the prospect of eating the foul substance. This time, though, they had another use in mind for that waste.

While William kept her pinned, Mateson buried his hands in the smelly pile and began to thoroughly massage it into the little child skin. After so many years of unchecked depravity, both men were pretty much immune to the repulse that those actions would have brought to normal people.

The shit mixed well with the caked semen, giving it the consistency of mud, and easing Mateson's task. To Rose's amazement, her white coating turned light brown as the scientist moved his hands through every patch of skin, his expert fingers digging deeply into her leftover muscles, driving away cramps she had completely forgotten about. As the doctor worked his fingers deep into the flesh of her swollen abdomen, she felt the hard unyielding mass of the plant's tendrils that coiled inside her. Amused, she decided to relax and enjoy the massage, so she closed her eyes, revelling on his touch, the sensation of her hardened innards and the intoxicating smell.

Soon, all her front was completely painted and William released her carefully to grant Mateson free access to her back. The older scientist repeated the process on the rest of her body until not a single patch of free skin could be seen. Only her swollen clitoris remained shit free, as Mateson decided that he liked the contrast of shiny red against dull brown.

Even after spreading his load as evenly as possible through all the girl's skin, she had become so diminutive that his hands were still fairly full of the stuff, so he moved again in front of the girl, cupping her sweet, angelic face between them.

Rose, her eyes still closed, nodded in unspoken agreement, making Mateson proceed to cover her face with the runny mixture of faeces and semen. He worked the substance on her lips, between her eyelids, inside her nostrils and ear folds… until she was completely browned with the foulest make-up imaginable from which not even her hair was spared, the layers of shit making the braid stick to her back.

"You can open your eyes now" whispered Mateson to Rose.

The child took a long sniff with her shit filled nostrils, flooding her senses with the overpowering odour, and slowly opened her shit caked eyelids. Looking at the omnipresent mirror, she smiled in satisfaction at the reflection that the mirror returned. The brown crust had blended the color and texture of her skin with those from the trunk that anchored her to the pot. Save for her striking emerald eyes, she now seemed like a tree stump from the bottom to the top. Only a lush canopy of green leaves was absent to form the complete picture, but for an improvised mock up it was more than enough.

"I will be like that?" she asked after licking her brown stained lips.

"You will, in time. Maybe a little greener, though" Mateson answered, approaching his shit covered hands to her face.

Rose opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, accepting the invitation, and began licking his fingers and palms clean with obvious gusto. Seeing the lascivious girl worshipping his hands with such dedication made his dick hard again, and he resolved to put her peehole to use once more before the day was over.


Falquian 11-Aug-15 22:13 # 2456 Up to topDown to bottom
DAY 90

Infected by the cheerfulness of Rose's reaction to her shit covering, they decided to let it stay like that, the same as they had done with the semen. The filth layer dried and crusted over time, giving it the appearance of proper tree bark, much to the child delight. As her "bark" flaked and peeled off, both madmen diverted some of the shit used to feed her to renew the coating that now mixed indistinguishably with her cum layer.

As for her urethra, the repeated brutal fuckings and the consequent sequences of tearing and healing, like ice expanding a rock, had moulded her urinary tract into a continuous tube of flesh, the sphincter that previously marked the frontier between urethra and bladder buried into the healed tissue, its length reaching past the diaphragm.

That morning, as Rose awoke, she felt a dull pressure inside her flat breasts that threatened to escalate into pain in the nearby future. The time was coming for whatever had grown inside her chest to come to the light, and she was eager to see them, whatever they were.

Pain was a welcomed lover to the little girl. Her vagina, ass and stomach had never truly stopped radiating sharp bursts through her body, or mitigated her constant pooping, peeing and puking needs. To her chemical addled and thoroughly trained brain, everything was one and the same, just part of what and who she was, a perfect test subject.

When Mateson entered the greenhouse that morning, the shit covered girl greeted him louder than usual.

"Doctor Mateson, I think it's happening now!"

"Already? Let's see"

Doc took a sponge and cleaned layer upon layer of dried crusty cum and shit until he could see both nipples poking through her green skin. Once he had scraped the plug of dried syrup that blocked the holes, he saw that they were gaping very slowly, contracting and expanding in barely noticeable pulses, remembering him of the labour contractions of the cervical ring. They were clearly trying to expel something, but at the sedate pace of plants, not the frantic one of humans. Even with the altered growth rate, the process would last at least until late evening.

"You are right, but it will take a long time until it's ready. I suggest that you enjoy it while it lasts" he said "meanwhile, William and I will prepare everything for that moment"

"Hooray!" she yelled "I can't wait to see what is it. Are you sure you won't tell me, doc?" she puppy eyed him again, a trick that almost always worked.

"You'll like it, child, believe me".

To prepare her for the rest of the day, Mateson and his assistant cleaned what remained of the girl's body from their effluences, and abstained from feeding her more cum, shit, piss or tit syrup, which frustrated her to no end. She could, however, see the body hidden under the perennial coat of filthy substances that covered her for the first time in a long while, so she decided to recap all the changes it had undergone to distract herself for a while.

Her skin was now a translucent dark green, the same hue as the tendrils that had so permeated her body. She could see underneath it the outline of the tangled mass of vines that criss-crossed her body from every conceivable direction.

Her misshapen belly, the result of the coils of her digestive tract being expanded by the tendrils, didn't let her see anything of her lower features, so big it had made her abdomen. In her tiny ten years old frame, it looked ridiculous and only the mirror allowed her to check what was below it.

She could still see the faint contour of her labia and her asshole around the invaders, but both orifices had become so big that almost occupied the whole of her hips. The flesh dividing them, the perineum and the lower parts of her labia and asshole, had long ago strangled and withered away between the cutting pressure of the growing twin trunks and now they were part of a single, continuous opening.

The only features that still marked a stark contrast on her cunny, were the big gaping hole that was her urethra, so wide that tennis balls could have been inserted with a bit of work, and the raw red sausage of her, now two inches long, clitoris. Over the weeks, the unhooded sex organ had grown considerably. It was constantly erect and throbbing, waiting with the same eagerness for the tender caress or the vicious slap of a human hand.

Even if the majority of that mass was lodged inside what had been her digestive tract, the smaller tendril had also been doing a number with her reproductive organs, transforming them to its purposes. The last internal scan she had seen of herself showed that her original entrails had been reduced to her slightly bloated uterus, the long stretchy bladder, stomach, lungs and her heart.

Looking closely at the digital picture, she could see that two tube-like appendices exited the sides of her uterus and climbed upwards her belly, ending in a flattened mass of spherical bulges that had replaced her budding breast tissue, too small to make an impression on her skin though, except from those topmost red "beans" she had seen lurking inside her nipples.

It seemed, though, that her lungs were the next organs in line, as they had begun to be colonized and would soon be lost to the green tide. Given that she didn't need to breath anymore, it didn't seem a great loss to her, although that advantage came with the side effect that she would be unable to speak, as Mateson had explained to her. Being a prized test subject, though, she knew she would be taken care of and wouldn't need to talk at all. Reflecting on her upcoming loss, she wondered for the umpteenth time how it would feel when she had been completely consumed by her plant.

When she finished inspecting her body, she decided to concentrate on the ongoing "birth" again. The pressure and her frustration kept increasing through the day, but both scientists avoided touching her so that she would not be distracted from that "once in a lifetime" moment.

The things that were inside her breasts grew even more, engorging her nipples and stretching her undeveloped chest into two pointy cones, putting tension on the holes, widening them bit by bit. A veritable deluge of syrup was also flowing from them, lubricating the passage, trying to aid the impossible task. That natural lube, though, did little to alleviate the pain, which kept increasing to a point that she began to cum just from the intensity.

Before that irresistible push, the nipples could do nothing but surrender, and slowly gave way to the round crimson beans that she had seen inside them, discolouring as their flesh grew thinner and thinner making the hole wider and wider to allow their passage.

The pressure became almost unbearable and Rose experienced the dichotomy of wanting the beans to finally exit her chest and hoping for that intense sensation to never end. Finally, the tips of the crimson beans began to poke past the flesh rings and then she understood at last that they were not beans at all, she was birthing blossoms.

As if it was jealous of those blossoms, the pine cone head of the tendril in her stomach decided to join the party too, and begun to grow upwards, spearing her cardias and filling to the point of overflow what remained of her digestive tract with the partially digested cocktail of shit, semen, piss and syrup.

Slowly, her oesophagus stretched around the tendril like if she was deepthroating William's cock in reverse and a column of that foul diarrhoea rose to fill the rest of the tube. When she tasted the unholy, delicious mixture at the back of her palate, Rose knew that she was approaching the last turning point in her short life.

It was late in the evening when the central, wider part of the bulbs crowned her nipples. The stark contrast between her overstretched nipples and the crimson blossoms looked very beautiful to her and, when the widest parts finally exited the holes, her nipples closed slowly, tenderly, behind them, enfolding the green stalks of the flowers soon to be, grateful of returning to something barely approximate to their original size.

She was literally beaming with pride. The pain had gone almost completely, and the petals were finally opening before her eyes. Both scientists approached her to witness the final stage of her procedure and Mateson stroked her head affectionately while the twin flowers slowly unfurled. Rose was crying with delight and barely paid attention to what Mateson was saying, but the entire event was being recorded for posterity, so he had to speak.

"Those flowers are the fruit of everything that has happened to you through the last three months, Rose. They bear some of your ovules, modified and transferred from your ovaries to the flower's. They will be pollinated from my own semen, and then the flower will transform into a fruit bearing the seeds that will continue the refinement process"

The tendril rising through what was left of her digestive tract was already obscenely bulging her throat, shutting her speech and making her gag painfully. She looked pleadingly at Mateson and he began to tenderly massage her neck in peristaltic upward motions to help its passage.

While the doctor squeezed her neck rhythmically, making her vomit a liquid shit discharge on each squeeze, she took a longing look at the twin red flowers that graced her flat chest. They were her own daughters, borne of the loving union between her plant and herself, and she was intent on burning their image in her memory. For the first time she regretted having no hands with which she could touch them, feel them, caress them.

Rose was soon gagging heavily, having no air with which cough the fresh discharges of brown diarrhoea that heralded the arrival of the tendril at her mouth. Tears flowing freely, unable to talk, she looked at William and Mateson one last time and then carefully arched her head backwards to let the growing stalk complete its travel through her body at long last. The pine cone head, much wider and greener than when it first entered her asshole, filled completely her mouth and, with a nasty, pitiful gurgle, forced the last remnants of gas to leave her body in a brown, creamy foam.

The bright green stalk, stained brown, finally emerged proudly past her lips, opening her jaw painfully, truly spitting her from end to end. She closed her lips tight around the four inches thick shaft, like she had done so many times before with both scientists' cocks, caressing the vine with a loving, perpetual kiss. The scarce remaining sludge, unable to go past her completely sealed mouth, overflowed through her nostrils and pooled around and inside her eyes, burning brown tears that marked the end of her ordeal.

"From now on, you will keep producing seeds for us, at least for some more years. Seeds that will grow to become plants like yours, seeds that will grace another girl like you" whispered Mateson to her ear "seeds that one day, will cure humanity of all its foolish ambitions".

Rose looked cross-eyed through the thin veil of diarrhoea at the thick stalk that kept growing past her mouth, gradually deflating her belly as it left her. Then, like its crimson sisters, it unfurled slowly into an array of lush green leaves, droplets of shitty liquid dripping on her face. The corners of Rose's overstretched lips curved slightly upwards in a satisfied smile and she closed her eyes for the last time, content and happy to have fulfilled her purpose in life.


Falquian 11-Aug-15 22:14 # 2457 Up to topDown to bottom

Mateson looked at the pair of peach-like orange fruits that had replaced Rose's flowers and now dangled heavily from her stretched nipples. A month after the night of the emergence of the stalk, even if its growth spurts had slowed considerably, the girl was almost completely fused with her symbiont. Her bones, muscles and most of her organs had been consumed long ago, and her translucent green skin was tightly draped in a cylindrical shape over the previously twin, now single, trunk of the plant. A canopy of heart shaped green leaves shadowed gently her body.

Rose's hide stood higher than it had at the beginning, right below the first branches thanks to the growth of the trunk, still betraying the true nature of the vegetable. Her features were still perfectly distinguishable, despite being distorted by the disappearance of the bones of her skull. Her lips were stretched thin in a tight "O" around the whole circumference of the trunk, a faint pink line outlining the frontier between skin and bark. Her pretty emerald eyes had never opened again after that fateful night and, out of morbid curiosity, Mateson stood on his toes and raised carefully her eyelids. As expected, only dark brownish-green bark returned his gaze.

The scientist then inserted his right index and middle fingers under the eye sockets and wormed them between her flesh and the trunk, detaching some vascular bundles on their way up, until the tips reappeared past her lips. Making a hook with them, he made an experimental tug and confirmed that all that remained of her original body was her skin and the long braid of red hair hanging from her flattened, stretched facial features. He removed both appendices and closed mercifully her eyelids. The sticky sap that flowed from the severed connections glued them shut and the drops dried in the shape of beautiful golden tears at the corners of her eyes.

As her ears also remained, Mateson used to talk to her, imagining that his voice was still heard. It wasn't, not anymore. Nonetheless, Rose's brain was, unfortunately for her, quite active, even if it was already buried inside the trunk. Her nervous system would be the only thing, by design, to survive the transformation and he wondered, once again, what thoughts crossed the minds of his specimens.

Since darkness had claimed her the night of the birth of her floral daughters, Rose's consciousness had experienced changes that couldn't be explained with words. Sadly, those changes hadn't done much good to the little child's sanity.

Rose's brain had almost completely lost its characteristic shape. Free of the confining bound of her dissolved skull, its circumvolutions had unravelled and now laid spread across the folds of their cellulose prison. Despite that, the connections between neurons had remained, so her mind was still pretty much whole, even if that shape change and the shift in sensory input had eroded her consciousness implacably. Also, as her flesh had been assimilated, her nerves had spread alongside the trunk of the plant, dragged with its growth, so now she could feel the flow of her sap, the suction of her roots and the warmth of the sunlight on her leaves.

Those weren't the only things she could feel, though. Parts of her old flesh still retained their original nervous connections. Her lips, for example, were still pretty sensitive, and she felt how they kept enfolding the ever increasing width of the trunk, always hurting, always in the verge of rupture but never quite doing so. The smooth texture of the bark tickled them as it passed on its way towards the light. It was like deepthroating an elephant.

Her nipples had been stretched downwards by the weight of the fruits. She could only imagine the twin fruits dangling heavily from her chest, but she certainly could feel how they made her hollow breasts sway deliciously, brushing her tummy skin with their velvety softness. It was the closest she would ever be from being loved by her daughters and she dreaded the thought of anyone harvesting them from her body.

The rest of her skin still retained most of its feeling and she constantly, desperately yearned for the touch of a warm hand or the gentle flow of the air inside the greenhouse like a thirsty man in a desert yearned for water. Despite that, she was increasingly uncomfortable with it each passing day, as her fleshy outermost layer wasn't growing alongside the trunk. Rose felt more and more like a latex glove, stretched taut over the unyielding wood, and ached for release from that incredible pressure.

Rose's most sensitive part of her body was, by far, her obscenely swollen clitoris. Although its skin had hardened into the cerulean cover of a fruit and the sap slowly flowing inside the corpus cavernosum was concentrating into a bitter-sweet creamy filling, the nerves were still as sensitive as ever, and all that poor Rose could feel was the constant pulsion of that dense fluid through its length, making her live in a state of perpetual orgasm.

Alone in the unforgiving dark, the child latched unto those last forms of sensory input to stave the absolute nothingness one more day, screaming her unending pleasure, pain and sorrow with a silent voice no one would ever be able to hear again, waiting for complete insanity to finally claim her mind.

Mateson, of course, knew little and cared less about that. All he could think was that soon he would carefully skin the plant-girl and hand her empty pelt to William. The assistant would cure it and then hang the macabre remains on the wall of his office, like he had done many times before with his previous test subjects. The fixed scream of their distorted mouths and empty eyes was a fitting tribute to his genius, after all.

Amused, the mad scientist looked at her clitoris, the most striking feature of her cunt, as the gaping hole of her urethra had closed shut weeks ago due to lack of need and the incredible pressure of the ever growing plant. The ultra-sensitive crimson appendage shined glossy taut, having become the size, texture and color of a particularly big jalapeno. The penile analogue was now three inches long, and the skin around its base was slowly turning wooden-like, strangling the organ into a pepper-like shape.

He stroked and pinched it tenderly, hopefully rewarding the girl with an orgasm as an apology in advance. Rose's leaves fluttered as if a non-existent wind had moved them, making the scientist almost feel sorry for her. In a few more days, her nipple fruits and clitoris pepper would be ripe for harvesting, and his experience told him that they made a very tasty morsel, even eaten raw.

While he was occupied anticipating the culinary delight, the speakers of the greenhouse intercom chimed again, and the voice of his assistant made him grin deviously.

"Doctor, the new specimen has been delivered. I will prepare her right away"
Falquian 11-Aug-15 22:16 # 2458 Up to topDown to bottom
Well, that's everything for now. If this story is liked enough, I will post part 2 as soon as it's finished. Enjoy
Anonymous 11-Aug-15 23:59 # 2460 Up to topDown to bottom
An amazing end to a perfect story.
Falquian 12-Aug-15 06:49 # 2464 Up to topDown to bottom
Thanks. I'm glad that you liked it. Part 2 is much, much more extreme than this one, but I still have to finish it.
Regis 12-Aug-15 13:44 # 2465 Up to topDown to bottom
Because we're here, you can probably understand that we can handle 'extreme'. Looking forward to part 2!


Falquian 20-Aug-15 18:35 # 2602 Up to topDown to bottom
This is the beginning of the second part. As it's still a work in progress, it will be a little slower than the first part, which was already complete. Also, I think warnings are unnecesary by this point, enjoy.


DAY 1. 08:00AM

The beeping sound of the nursery intercom made Chloe wake up groggily. Her brain felt like it had been stuffed with cotton after a solitary night full of tears and anguish.

She was the last girl remaining of her generation at the nursery and, at thirteen years old, the oldest of the bunch. All her sisters and brothers had been whisked away before her, and she despaired she would never be chosen and would just be left alone to wither away, too old to be of any use. For that was their meaning in life, the only purpose for people like her, to be useful to the scientists that tended to their needs, to be perfect test subjects that could make any experiment a success.

The last one to be separated from her had been her little sister Rose, to be used as a test subject at an experiment in a greenhouse. That had been three months ago but she still missed her terribly. She missed the days learning and training the techniques that would make them useful, the practice of their sexual skills, the development of their holes. She also missed the nights, when sweet Rose would let her try any new deviant trick she had imagined during the day on her tender little body.

Both girls explored the limits on pleasure, pain and depravity, encouraged by their handlers and trainers, so they would be better prepared when their turn to be used finally came. The evening before Rose had been taken away, Chloe had enjoyed herself turning her sister's flat nipples into pretty pincushions, betting with her how many needles she could fit inside the flesh before she gave up. It had been an evening full of laughter, pleasure and merry tears of pain.

When a young scientist named William had arrived at the nursery looking for Rose, the naked girls, for there never was need for a test subject to have any clothes on, jumped and cheered excitedly together. Chloe had showered little Rose with kisses congratulating her on having been chosen, telling her how envious she was. Rose had found a purpose for herself, but that had left poor Chloe to wallow alone in the uncertainty. Not even a day after that, a new baby girl was assigned Rose's place in the nursery, as if to showcase her own uselessness.

Of all her sisters and brothers she was, by far, the most perverted of the lot, always trying new sexual things on them and herself, and she had wondered more than once if that trait was what made her unsuitable to be a test subject. It didn't matter that her mother, while she had been sharing the nursery with her children, had reassured her once and again. Her trainers and tutors also encouraged that kind of behaviour but maybe that was a secret test of character, a test she had failed time after time.

Because of that, it had surprised Chloe to no end when Rita, the plain looking but sweet and motherly brunette handler in charge of the nursery, peeked through the door of her bedroom and, seeing that she was already awake, made her the 'ok' sign with her fingers. Greta, the female scientist in charge of a lab, appeared from behind her. Greta had visited the nursery a number of times before to take subjects away for her experiments, although never her brothers and sisters.

The lady had an strange accent, that her mother had once told her was Germanic, whatever that meant. She was incredibly beautiful, apparently no more than twenty-something years old, long blonde hair tied in a top bun from where a loose ponytail cascaded down her back with side bangs that framed her face, piercing azure eyes framed by square discreet glasses, a pouting mouth of full deep pink lips. Her figure, even dressed with the customary lab coat, was a shapely hourglass with a sexy swaying gait accented by incredibly long stilettos and breasts that, although not as huge as her mom's, were pretty big nonetheless. All in all, she was perfection incarnate.

A vision of beauty like that could not possibly be interested in a plain, flat chested, skinny redhead like her. Her only striking points, in her opinion, were her big puffy nipples, a pair of fleshy pink cones two inches in diameter and very sensitive, and her long wavy hair that, like her sister, reached past her butt. She didn't thought any scientist would be interested in her nipples or her hair, though.

However, to her astonishment, the statuesque blonde had looked at her, lying confused on the low bed at her feet, and just said: "Come with me, I need your body".

Those few words, pregnant with so much meaning, filled Chloe with joy. She was needed! She wouldn't be disposed of! Like a puppy having just found her master, the naked pre-teen wiped away her tears, rose from the bed without complaint and followed Greta outside the nursery and into her destiny.

For the first time in her life, she was leaving the nursery grounds into the unknown beyond, where the experiments took place. The nursery complex, one of many as she would later learn, consisted in the communal bedroom for the children, the showers and bathrooms, a dining hall, a big classroom and a bigger outdoors patio with a garden and some trees. Tall walls enclosed the patio and hid the rest of the facilities from them. The test subjects were always left in the dark about most of what transpired outside their little world.

When the double doors opened for them, Rose saw a long grey corridor with smaller ones bisecting it at regular intervals. Heavy reinforced doors like the one that had warded her nursery littered the walls here and there, and scientists and armed men (she recognized the weapons and what they could do, to rebellious test subjects and intruders alike, from her studies back at the nursery) wandering busily up and down the long hallways.

While they walked towards their destination, Greta's lab, she caught glimpses of other test subjects like her walking alongside adjacent corridors, also towed by their handlers to wherever they would be used. She saw subjects as old as the scientist themselves, a thing that puzzled her to no end, as well as subjects so little they had to be carried in the scientist's arms, which was much less strange, as she had seen her fair lot of babies being chosen before her.

Every door they passed made her knees weak and her heart flutter in a mixture of anticipation, excitement and dread. Every door could have been the entrance to the place where she would become part of the experiment destined for her.

But, alas, none of those doors were the one where she would meet her ultimate fate. It was only after they had walked for almost twenty minutes, so huge was the incredible complex, that they reached the domains of miss Greta.

The tall lady punched a code in the side panel of the heavy door, otherwise indistinguishable from every other door they had passed, except for a label full of characters she had not learnt to read. Chloe almost couldn't believe something so important could be so prosaic, although she understood that what was of capital relevance to her was just daily routine for the good scientists. The security pad chimed and turned green, and the door hissed and slided inside the wall.

Sensing her reluctance, doctor Greta ushered her in.

"Come, come, you will live here from now on" she said, patting her back.

Gathering her courage, Chloe crossed the threshold of the door and stepped into her new life.

While Chloe looked amazed at all the unknown things that peppered her domains, Greta was reviewing the girl's profile on her hand-held tablet once more, trying to decide how much she was prepared to handle from the get go.

The fact that she had been so long in the nursery wasn't an accident, nor a secret test of character, like Chloe believed. In fact, Chloe's fate had been decided since before birth, as her DNA of the ovum and sperm that had begot her had been tweaked to her specifications. It was only while she was on the onset of puberty that her reproductive system was ripe to be modified for her experiment.

But the scientific facts weren't the things that interested Greta right now. She was chuckling internally at the personality profile of the little pre-teen. Chloe scored the highest marks she had ever seen in sexual deviancy, lack of preservation impulses, tolerance to pain, tolerance to disgusting stimulus, unassuming curiosity…

Nothing of that had been planned when Chloe had been designed, so she scribbled a side note to check if the biological changes had any link to her behaviour of it was just lucky chance. Whatever the case, Greta decided that, apart from the changes necessary for her experiments, she would find creative ways to satisfy her own lust with Chloe's body and mind.

As she was again safe inside her domains, she fetched one of her oversized cigars from her coat pockets and popped it inside her mouth. With her trusty lighter, she lit the stogie to the child's absolute amazement.

"What's that?" she asked looking at the inch and a half thick, six inches long brown cylinder wrapped around her luscious lips.

Greta took the cigar between her right index and middle fingers and exhaled a waft of pungent, acrid smoke towards the child's face. She didn't cringe or even coughed, she just inhaled the dense cloud in childlike curiosity.

"It's a cigar, Chloe. A guilty pleasure of mine" she answered truthfully. Her habit was not frowned upon in the facility, very few things were, but many labs didn't tolerate well the smoke on the delicate equipment. Fortunately, hers was not one of those.

The trusting stare of Chloe convinced her to give the girl a complete tour of the lab, even the parts that would have made adult people cringe in pain or vomit in disgust. The stunning blonde thought that she should be prepared for the things her sadistic instincts compelled her to do to her test subjects. If her psychological profile was right, Chloe would enjoy suffering them as much as Greta inflicting them.

The anticipation alone made her wet her panties, and the unmistakeable shine of sex juices coming from the little girl's thighs, mirroring her own, was a very good sign for their future relationship.

"Follow me, I have many things to show you before the day is over"

DAY 1. 09:00AM

Animal Reproductive Breakthrough was, as its name implied, a lab complex focused on taking sex and fertility to their utmost limits, by whatever means necessary. Greta explained Chloe, between puffs of her cigar as they walked through what was one of the biggest areas of all the facilities, that she had thirty scientists and adjutants at her orders, managing five different experiments at the same time.

The complex itself, as was the norm in that place, was mostly a self contained city, consisting on the scientists' living quarters and recreational rooms; many analysis labs where very advanced devices Chloe could not divine their purposes were neatly ordered over floors, walls, tables and the ceilings; areas for charge and discharge of equipment and supplies, and even a heliport at one indoors patio. As they visited those places, she met with the surprised stares of many woman and men, dressed in lab coats and maintenance overalls. Greta clarified that all those zones were off limits to test subjects like her, and thus would only be given a cursory glance, and only because she was in a very unusual good mood.

Once they had finished looking at the forbidden areas, where she would never set foot on again, Greta asked her if she wanted to see the sample museum. The good doctor seemed worried that she would be traumatized by the sights of preserved test subjects, too valuable as either research material or scientific curiosities to be just disposed of. Chloe was not squeamish in the least, and she secretly hoped to be there herself one day, as that would mean she had been so useful that she merited to be kept forever.

Reassured about her willingness, Greta guided her to a barely traversed part of the lab, opening the door of a dimly lit hall chock full of glass cabinets and giant glass tubes filled with bodies and body parts alike. The doctor explained, pointing with her cigar, that the samples were submerged in different cocktails of preserving liquids, in order to keep them from rotting away. That process began usually after death, but sometimes it had to be performed before.

In some containers, foetuses in different stages of growth showcased how a human life developed from conception to birth. Organs and limbs showing hideous deformities were also displayed in small and medium sized vials along the hall. Maybe those had scientific interest, but they meant nothing to Chloe, who bypassed them with barely a second glance. What she was looking for and, in the end, shocked her the most, were the child and adult sized ones.

Girls and boys her age and older were calmly floating in the yellow liquid, so fresh looking that Chloe could almost believe they were still alive. She could see boys with multiple, different sized cocks, and girls with two or three rows of breasts or even two vaginas. Here, a woman sporting nipples so long they resembled fingers. There, a man with a horse cock implanted instead of a human one. Farther away, conjoined twin girls that shared everything from the waist down. Just beside them, a woman with no legs who appeared to have three pregnant bellies evenly spaced just below her ribcage.

The preserving liquids smell was intoxicating, and the sights combined with it to make her light-headed. Those people had been living test subjects like her at one point. That fact should have horrified her, but she had learned her lessons well. That had been their purpose in life, and the fact that they were there, meant that they had fulfilled it so successfully that they had been awarded with being forever displayed. Their deaths should not be mourned, they should be celebrated.

Past the glass tubes were the plastinated bodies. As Greta explained, plastination was a process where all the bodily fluids were replaced with a liquid resin that, once hardened, made the corpses into living plastic dolls that could be then opened and studied in detail.

There, Chloe saw young and old, old being thirty at most, test subjects frozen in place as if they were statues. All of them were opened in at least one place, displaying the internal organs and blood vessels in millimetric detail. A pregnant woman with her tummy peeled away showed four unborn babies in a four chambered uterus. A man with a serpentine like cock had it wrapped in coils around his body, the snakelike appendage split in half to show its inner workings. Each specimen was more sexually bizarre than the last, and Chloe couldn't help rubbing her clit imagining she became one of them or, better yet, had been fucked by one of them when they were still alive.

However, what really shook her world to the core was the red-headed woman on all fours at the very end of the line, meaning she had been done in very recently. Despite her body being torn apart she recognized her at once, it was her own mom.

"I remember Sarah very well. Like you, she was an amazing test subject, providing us with one of the more fruitful generations in like… ages" the doctor began, having been anticipating that moment since they had entered the hall.

"She was very kind, and taught me many things" Chloe replied, small tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Indeed, and I will test those things in person very soon" Greta promised, patting her head "But going back to how you see her now, this was an explicit request from her"

"She asked for this?"

"Yes. Sarah knew she was nearing the end of her usefulness as a test subject, so she decided to go with a bang. That she chose to participate in this experiment and agree to be plastinated 'in vivo', which I know for certain it's one of the most excruciating possible deaths, tells a lot about her dedication and selflessness"

Sarah had been frozen in time knelt on all fours, legs splayed apart as if to invite fucking, head thrust forward proudly, gigantic tits spread on the floor. However, she had been split apart from head to cunt in a sagital cut, two perfect halves showcasing the inner organs through all her length. Then, those two halves had been separated and positioned in a straight line one after the other, in a way so that the lips of half her head were in close contact with the lips of the other half. From one side of the display, she looked like a woman vacuum kissing her mirror image. From the other, the shiny congealed innards told a different story.

A metal pole five inches thick speared the two parts from cunt to cunt, keeping Sarah's halves joined at her lips. It was so wide that her jaw had had to dislocate to allow the metal monster to pass through her mouth. Strangely enough, her organs didn't show any visible damage, they were just sitting beside a flesh tube that was wrapped around the pole. The tube bifurcated near her bottom, one part connected with the top of her uterus, the part that had been in use at the moment of her death, and the other part connecting to the rectum.

"This experiment was meant to prove that a woman could be successfully transformed into a sex sleeve, a meat hole suitable for the pleasure of any man or animal, no matter how well endowed they could be" Greta spoke again, tracing the contours of the pole "This very metal rod was supposed to mimic a small elephant's girth"

Chloe stood transfixed at the mental sight of her mother being fucked by an elephant, but the female scientist was still talking.

"She was operated upon to rearrange her organs around this custom made flesh tunnel that connected both her asshole and cunt to her stomach" she said, pointing at the relevant areas "Then, we tried her body in different animals and test subjects with outstanding success. Your mother was very flexible, and enjoyed very much being so completely and utterly dominated by any cock. You should have seen her mating our special stallions, their cocks poking past her mouth gushing spurt after spurt of horse cum!" she laughed.

Chloe could sympathize with that.

"Once the test batteries were finished, she learned of this place and asked me to be put in display so that one day, at least one of her many children could learn from her, even in death"

"She did this for me?"

"Yes. I cannot think about a greater proof of love than to show your children the correct way of living and dying here" Greta said, kneeling beside Chloe to comfort her "When the final day came, she arrived at the preservation lab with this make-up you see her wearing" she added, pointing at her shadowed eyes and crimson lips "Elegant until the very end, that was Sarah. Regal in her submission, and so cheerful that she infected all our personnel. She herself chose the size of the metal pole, a bit bigger than her previous record, just to tease us" she said, dreamy eyed.

"After she refused to be anaesthetized, we hooked her arteries to the machine that would replace her blood with the epoxy resin and restrained her in a position suitable to accept the pole inside her body. I will always remember her cries of ecstasy when the tip penetrated her cunt, the sounds of her jaw creaking when it finally emerged past her lips and how she managed to wrap them tight around the pole in a smile, despite the pain she must had been suffering. Once completely spitted, we switched the pumps on and saw how her blood was slowly extracted from her and replaced with the resin, making her convulse in agony and, hopefully, pleasure. Soon, her orgasmic death throes waned as her flesh gradually became stiffer and stiffer, until she moved no more and the statue you see now was completed"

Greta stood and paused for a bit, lost in her recent memories, stroking tenderly the carefully arranged hair of the corpse, tracing its twin set of lips with her manicured fingers.

"When we retired the pole, her flesh had retained this shape around the hole, allowing all of us to see through her whole self from end to end, perfectly showcasing how future sex sleeves should be, just a flesh tube to be filled with cock, nothing else. I personally sawed her body in half, in recognition of her bravery and the show she had gifted all of us"

Chloe was completely astounded, and incredibly aroused, by the way her mother had earned her own place in the museum. After hearing the story of her demise, she despaired she would ever be able to top that feat. She would have to do it somehow if she wanted to be displayed beside her. That museum didn't seem to have spare space for copies.

"You can come here as often as you want whenever your duties allow you" the doctor promised her "but, for now, the day is still young and we have lots of things to see"

The little teen nodded at Greta and kissed tenderly the beautiful plastic corpse of her mom, silently vowing to come visit her as often as possible. Then, she followed Greta outside the hall.

DAY 1. 10:30AM

Apart form the museum, none of the visited places, interesting and exciting as they were, kept Chloe's attention for too long. She wanted to see the testing areas where she would be experimented on, and maybe meet some other subjects to see what her future had in store. The visit to her mother had instilled in Chloe the determination to endure as gracefully as Sarah whatever fate awaited her.

After traversing a few more hallways, the strange pair arrived at the testing labs. Unlike the labs where the analysis were performed and the chemicals prepared, these ones varied greatly in shape and size, to be suitable for whatever experiment the scientists needed performing. Many of those were now empty, as no tests were being carried on them at the moment, but the ones that were in use held pleasant surprised to the excited child.

The first of such labs they visited was pretty big, and had benches, stalls, and an artificial grass floor. It was there where she saw Shonda, a black skinned female test subject. As it was immediately evident, they had arrived at the perfect time to see her experiment being carried upon.

The young woman was laying spread eagle on a bench with some strange handles on one side. The test subject had her legs and arms restrained to the four legs of that bench, its purpose evident in lieu of her mating partner. An assistant was helping an enormous coal black stallion to align his monstrous cock into her inviting pussy, while his front legs tried to gain leverage resting on those strange handlebars. With a playful slap on the rump, the horse leaped forward, impaling the girl in one shot and making her scream in pleasure.

"Shonda there is proving that modified human uteri and ovaries can carry the pregnancy of a different species to term" Greta begun explaining to the amazed Chloe, looking at the exciting scene behind the glass panes of the lab "Until Shonda, all we had achieved had been early abortions, but that stallion you see now is her own first child"

"Wow!" was the only thing Chloe could reply, as she was mesmerized by the sight of how the powerful thrusts of the magnificent animal made Shonda moan and squirm with obvious delight.

"Yes, wow!" Greta mimicked, taking a drag of her cigar "As the first human ever to be mother to a horse, she has earned her place in the museum, that's for sure. Once she pops a few more generations and we confirm the stability of the process, she will be impregnated one last time and plastinated while birthing the foal"

"Lucky girl" thought Chloe.

"You will like her once you get to meet her, she is very energetic, and knows her way around a cunt like no other girl here" Greta continued "Also, be sure to thank her properly, it's her success that has allowed your own experiment to be possible"

"I will" the diminutive pre-teen said, as they went pass the lab, leaving behind the ecstatic cries of pleasure of the black girl. Chloe still wondered what kind of experiment they had in store for her, but she had just confirmed one thing, it would involve animals.

Next, they arrived at a smaller, completely indoors lab, where two twin black haired boys her age were having their cocks injected with coloured serums and measured by assistants and scientists.

"Come inside, Chloe" said Greta "I will introduce you to Timmy and Ricky. Hello boys, how are you doing today?" she greeted them while fetching a data tablet handed from one of her assistants.

"Just fine, ma'am" Timmy said, or maybe it was Ricky "but you know how it goes" the other said, pointing to their dicks "this is going to need some help soon" both completed the phrase at the same time.

"Maybe you can try someone new" said Greta, returning the tablet "let me introduce you to Chloe. Chloe, this is Ricky…" she said pointing to the left boy

"No, I'm Timmy, he is Ricky" the boy said "Your nipples look yummy"

"Don't listen to him, he is Ricky, I'm Timmy" the other one replied "I also like your nipples, they are very big and puffy"

Chloe couldn't help bursting into laughter at the shenanigans of the twin boys. If that was a sign of their character, they would have very good times together. As she moved forward to shake their hands, she noticed their cocks for the first time. They were not teenager sized, but big adult ones, and they sported something very inhuman. At the base of their dicks, there was a knot the size of a golf ball.

Both twins couldn't help noticing her stare.

"Do you like what you see?" Timmy, or maybe Ricky, said "Come see us in an hour and we will show you what we can do with them"

"I will" Chloe said "if the doctor allows it"

"Once you are done here, you two go to room 27, we'll go there after lunch" Greta winked at them.

"Oooh, kinky!" exclaimed the twins at unison.

The last of the test labs they visited held a woman that Chloe wouldn't be able to befriend in all her time there. Allison was her name, and she was even more paler than Chloe was, white as paper or milk. That colour suited her because, as Greta explained, she was there to push the milk production capabilities of humans to the absolute limits.

The poor test subject's body was hanging from a very high ceiling by a special harness. Her arms and legs had been amputated at her shoulders and hips, as the extra flesh wasn't needed and consumed vital resources that could be diverted to milk production. Her mouth was connected to a feeding tube, and her ass and peehole to waste disposal tubes. Her face was fully covered by a VR monitor feeding her all kind of sexual images, sound and videos, that Chloe could see in a nearby computer operated by an assistant.

From that pitiful frame hung three pairs of titanic breasts supported by safety nets, each one of them so big that their diameter was almost the same as Greta's height. Milking machines were attached to the similarly oversized nipples, four per breast, pumping her milk out of them as fast as it was produced.

"We want to test how long can we keep a human alive after being turned into a full time, living milk factory" explained Greta "Right now, she is outputting the daily milk requirements for all the facilities and has been like that for one year now. Her predecessor lasted three, but we hope we can make her go up to four before she dies on us. Also, you are going to experience one of her body mods, can you guess which one?" she laughed.

As her joke went past unnoticed by the teen, Greta realized that her newest test subject was becoming very restless so she decided to skip directly to the interesting part. Looking at her cigar she saw it was almost consumed, so she threw it in a nearby trash bin before going into the last lab. One of the main advantages of living in an environment like that, she thought, was not having to care about your health at all. Being the spear-point of the most amazing treatments ever devised, every scientist and assistant of the facilities had perfect bodies and perfect health.

Even if she looked like and felt like a twenty-something bombshell, Greta was really pushing sixty, the regenerative and youth treatments having done miracles for her. Such lifestyle gave the scientists all the time they wanted to explore every kind of pleasure imaginable. That, combined with total authority over their experimental subjects and no accountability except for yielding results, turned each and everyone of them into sadistic, depraved bastards over time.

"Do you want to know about your experiment now?" she said.

"Yes, please!"

"Good, your future home is right at the end of this corridor"

Chloe was very excited as they walked a short distance until they arrived at a glass door that seemingly led outside, if the light shining through it didn't lie. The door itself was lead to an airtight clear chamber Chloe couldn't divine its purpose.

Once they had cleared the second set of doors and exited the antechamber, what greeted them was an enclosed, exceedingly beautiful small forest. It was even bigger and much more lively than the nursery one, full of flowers and trees of all colours and species, bees buzzing everywhere, busily going from flower to flower. The ceiling was covered by a dome made of a transparent material, but the temperature and humidity were so tightly regulated that they seemed to be completely outside. If that place was to be her testing area, she had won the big prize.

"What I'm going to do here?" she asked, still absorbing the paradisical environment.

"You cannot possibly know, but bees worldwide are on the verge of extinction. And if they disappear, all the crops and trees that depend on them to be pollinated will be lost as well. That would mean disaster for humanity. We are here to try to reverse that process"


"Wait a bit, and don't move no matter what" Greta said with a mischievous smile, having seen something through the corner of her eyes.

All the bees that had been so concentrated in their work suddenly started to turn around and fly towards Chloe. The child couldn't help looking worried at them.

"What are they doing?"

"Don't worry, they won't hurt you, just stay still and don't move" Greta reassured her, taking a step back for good measure.

Hundreds of bees swarmed around the little redhead, landing on every inch of bare skin, but specially around her undeveloped breasts, tickling the sensitive skin of her chest with their tiny legs. True to Greta's promise, they didn't harm her in the least, and limited themselves to explore her prepubescent teats, concentrating around the puffy mounds of her nipples. Soon, her flat tits were buried under dozens of the scuttling insects, a veritable black bra of chitin. The sensation was surprisingly pleasant, but that didn't answer her very pressing questions. Greta noticed her odd look and continued explaining.

"Your sisters and you were designed to have a highly mutable breast tissue. Rose's, for example, was geared towards plant hybridization. Yours, on the other hand" she said, pointing at her bee covered chest "were prepared to be suitable for them".

"Bees? What have my breasts to do with bees?".

"These bees you see now are a from generation hatched in preparation for your coming, spliced with your very own DNA. That's why they are attracted to your smell. They are incredibly resilient workers, friendly to humans, highly fertile, and don't need a queen. However, to achieve their maximum potential, they will need to live in a special beehive. One that is biologically compatible with their mutated genome".

"You are going to turn my breasts into beehives?" Chloe was not frightened at the prospect, quite the contrary, but it was a very strange experiment nonetheless.

"Very clever, Chloe! I knew you were a smart girl" Greta congratulated her "the bees will work within your mammary glands and ducts, eating and transforming them into their home. But first we will need to increase the housing space, so to speak, so we are going to multiply your breast rows and make them grow a bit".

That sounded exciting, bizarre and very painful. She approved of it.

"If your experiment is successful, we will prepare girls worldwide to be carriers of this new strain of bee, to repopulate the world with them. For your part, when your breasts become ready to accept the process, you'll return here to have them infected. That will happen in about two months from now but, for today, let's fulfil that promise to the twins".

As they left the area, Chloe, still sporting her 'beekini', learned about the purpose of the double set of doors. In the chamber between the first and the second set, a powerful fan created an ascending current that gently dislodged all the valuable bees from her breasts and made them tumble upwards until they exited through a hole in the ceiling to fly again into the contained forest environment.

Chloe's skin was again clear of insects, but the trace of their walks up and down had aroused her much more than she was ready to admit, even to herself. A veritable deluge of girl juices flowed down her thighs and Greta, after seeing it, decided to hurry with the lunch so the two of them could relieve the tension accumulated through all the morning.


Falquian 09-Sep-15 09:22 # 2898 Up to topDown to bottom
I'm sorry for the delay, but real life has been intruding lately. The story itself is mostly finished but, because my creative process involves skipping forward and backwards in time, the unfinished parts are the ones that immediately follow what is already posted.

As soon as that is finished, the rest of the story will be posted in a massive (and I mean that, the second part is roughly twice the first one) dump.


amazing. thank you so much!



2. Chapter 1

The lifestyle of a criminal isn’t for everyone. That axiom held true for most aspiring law breakers as the UNESF police was ruthlessly efficient, eliminating threats in Earth and its colonies almost as soon as they emerged. Most, but not all.

Until three months ago, Heather Nem belonged to that select minority. It was an era where crime was at its lowest ever, as technology had advanced so much that petty theft was unprofitable and even the most depraved crimes could be simulated with utmost realism. However, the few individuals, ambitious enough to reach the top of society, but unable to do so because they lacked the money or the power, had to resort to the most unscrupulous means to achieve their dreams. Weapon trafficking, ultra-drugs, illegal nanomachines, absolute murder (it really took a lot of effort to eliminate a person and all their brain backups), corruption of databanks, antimatter thievery… Heather had tried her hand at every crime imaginable, until she had overreached herself and became such a threat to the UNESF that she had been made to slip under the cracks of the legal system (just to ensure she didn’t have last minute tricks to avoid jail).

After twenty eight days of exhausting interrogation she had been presented with a choice. She could face the existential terror of oblivion, being executed and having all her backups erased, or volunteer herself to an experiment. In a time when people was practically immortal, being able to swap bodies and minds with incredible ease, a threat like that held a lot more weight than it used to in the distant past. On the other hand, the standards of experimentation had likewise become incredibly strict, with laws and regulations that ensured no harm came to the subjects. It was an easy choice, or so she thought.

Two months later, standing naked in a cave buried deep in an asteroid at the Kuiper belt, she was beating herself for being so stupid about that decision. A hovering sensor drone, its antigrav fins moving in a strange dance, bathed her in the light of its floodlights. It was the only physical companion she had been afforded although that didn’t mean another, more subtle company, couldn’t make itself present.

“Are you comfortable, Ms Nem? The temperature regulators should be working at full throttle” a male voice chimed in her ear, coming from a cochlear implant.

“What do you care?” she subvocalized, a microphone buried deep in her larynx sending the acid response to her handler at the other side of the line.

“It was a strange occurrence suddenly having a volunteer for this experiment. I did not expect such a famous young crime lady to willingly subject herself to it”

“I didn’t have much choice, you know that”

“It was a choice, after all. Much more than what you gave to some of your victims”

“Spare me the petty morals” she spat “You and your colleagues are no better than me. Couldn’t you have used a mindless clone and be done with it?”

“Been there, done that. Do you think we are that stupid? That creature just ate the clones and retreated to its cave. Only the female miners that were captured in the first place were kept alive inside it”

“And when you finally manage to rescue just one of them, she is a complete and utter mess. Have you gotten something coherent from her wrecked mind?”

“Not yet, sorry”

Heather decided to shut up. The conversation was bringing memories she really didn’t want to recall. After having arrived at the facility just yesterday, she had been informed in detail of what kind of experiment she had agreed to. The mining site at the asteroid she was now treading, by chance an all female operation, had gone suddenly silent. When the rescue teams had arrived here, they had found what could only be described as a lovecraftian nightmare. The workers had been abducted and partially assimilated into an organic mass resembling a titanic worm that was later confirmed as the first truly alien organism ever found.

Eleven of the twelve miners were beyond saving, having been so absorbed into the giant organism that couldn’t be really called human anymore. Of the lone survivor the marines had managed to separate from the alien, her body had been transformed to incredible degrees, and her mind no longer worked in the same “frequencies” as normal human beings. Her brain was still quite active, but the neural architecture and wave patterns had changed so much they were completely indecipherable by every software available.

The naked criminal shuddered involuntarily when she recalled the body of that woman floating in a liquid tank to keep her from falling apart. To think she was going to become like her, or even worse, made her nauseous and, to her infinite horror, a bit aroused. The purpose of the hideous mutations, as bizarre as they were, was undeniably sexual in nature, and decades upon decades of tentacle porn and gore gone mainstream had made an impact on the collective psyche of humanity.

She wasn’t a senseless sacrifice, though. Once the creature had been isolated inside its cave system and could be observed safely, scientists wanted to understand it as much as possible, maybe even communicate with it. The modifications of the body could be easily reversed because, in the worst case scenario, a new body could be made from scratch. The mind was another thing altogether. The current technology wasn’t able to translate, replicate or transfer the altered mental architecture of the unfortunate victim, and all the local backups had been mysteriously erased before the rescuers arrived. That was where she came in.

The advanced recording devices implanted in her brain would monitor in detail all the transformation steps and, hopefully, the scientists would be able to reverse engineer the process and translate those alien thought patterns into readable, human ones. It was not a sure thing, of course, that was why the government had sought an irredeemable convict like her to “volunteer”.

As things were, she was now waiting in the first of the tunnel systems claimed by the creature. The whole massive asteroid had been surrounded by a force field by the miners when the mining operation had started almost a year ago. The ensuing breathable atmosphere, artificial gravity and tolerable temperature allowed her to stand naked inside the space rock, a tempting bait for that titanic slug. It was theorized that those very life-enabling conditions had been what had awakened the alien from deep space cryostasis in the first place, and Heather wondered if the miners had fully understood the horror they had unleashed as one by one they disappeared and were consumed by the unholy creature, their tattered clothes, spread where they had fallen, being the only visible proof of the abductions.

“I’m getting interesting readings from your subconscious” said the unnamed doctor inside her head “It seems you are not so disgusted with this messy affair, despite what you said earlier”

“Get out of my mind, you creep!” she yelled, the echo reverberating towards the caverns ahead.

“No can do, my lecherous lady” he taunted her “that’s the whole point of this experiment, after all”

Heather was already regretting that uncontrolled outburst. It made her weakness so much more apparent, and she hated being weak. Lesser men had paid with their lives for just hinting at her weaknesses. Holding to the last shreds of her dignity and tired of waiting for the oversized worm to appear, she decided to take the initiative. It was her last act of free will, of defiance. If becoming food for alien slugs was her destiny, she would meet it head on, instead of hiding like a cornered rat.

The asteroid was pretty big, almost two kilometers deep from where she was. However, it was not a long walk, and the alien hiding deep in the tangle of tunnels would surely have noticed the echoes of her scream by now. The beautiful woman began walking into the cave system, with her hovering robotic companion whirring and buzzing behind her. The scientist didn’t even try to stop her, what was going to happen was inevitable either way.

It was hard to define beauty in that era. The advances in cosmetic technology and surgery made being exceedingly handsome the new basic standard. The naked woman walking to her doom was a tall blonde, with wavy locks that cascaded down the middle of her back. Her perfectly toned body rippled with enhanced muscles under an apparently soft, pale, and completely hairless skin.
Heather’s nervous breathing as she walked involuntarily enhanced her chest assets, which sported a perky pair of B cup sized tits, still winning their battle against gravity and crowned by two diamond hard nipples as red as her lips, with areolas measuring almost two inches in diameter.

Her azure eyes looked at every junction and corner like those of a frightened doe, though. Despite all her bravado earlier, she was just an unarmored woman in her birth suit, deep in the tunnels of an asteroid, looking for a multi-ton creature that would do unspeakable things to her.

As she went deeper and deeper, with the lights of her drone companion and the beacons placed by the miners as her guides, the sweat of her increasing fear mixed with a trickle from her cunt. She noticed it and moved her hand to her nethers, looking at the substance that coated her fingers in disbelief. To add insult to injury, her arousing was becoming physical!

Heather had a keen mind, and was an expert analyzing the minds of other people. It was a handy skill in her line of work, almost a must have for any aspiring crime lord. She had never needed to analyze herself; after all, she knew exactly what she wanted and why she wanted it. Now, though, circumstances were forcing her to reconsider those priorities.

It didn’t take long to reach an answer. Having been a dominant person all her life, the wills of her subordinates and enemies alike bending to her whims, being so utterly helpless was somehow liberating. Not having to care about ordering people here and there, and the pressure that managing an empire entailed, was empowering after a fashion. There she was, at the mercy of a creature so much powerful than the actual her, and there was absolutely nothing she could do, short of bashing her head against a rock. The thought of complete submission mixed with sexual fantasies buried deep inside her psyche was playing tricks with her body.

It couldn’t be just that, she thought, after turning at another intersection without seeing any trace of the worm. Surely the horror of what awaited her should have tempered that arousal.

Fear was a very powerful emotion, and it could override sexuality if handled in an incorrect manner. It was then when she noticed that the aseptic smell of human machinery had been slowly replaced by a musty aroma that, despite being so subtle she almost hadn’t noticed, managed to permeate every single surface of the cave. Feeling suddenly light headed, she placed a hand in the wall to steady herself.

“The creature is finally on the move. We are getting readings a hundred meters ahead of you” said the incorporeal voice inside her head while the drone moved up and down as if agreeing.

“Fuck you!” she hissed in defiance.

Now that she had been warned, Heather could feel the vibrations of the slithery creature reverberating through the entire tunnel. For a moment she toyed with the idea of turning back and fleeing. She imagined the laughter that that thought would have elicited in her handler and the brief escape plan died before even being born. There was no escape for her, sure death waited at her back while it was only almost certain on her front.

Ironically, it was her very human fellows who she had to fear instead of the alien abomination that had consumed and reduced the remains of the survivor woman to apparent insanity. As if on cue, far down the tunnel, the faint lights of the beacons began to dim as something very big gradually obscured them. At that distance, it looked as if the walls were closing in like a zipper.Having spotted the creature, the drone turned its main floodlight off. It was now unnecessary and they didn’t want to take any risk. Heather was plunged in the darkness, and her despair increased one more notch.

“We only have marginal information about what happens now, lady” said the nameless scientist “The security cameras only gathered shaky images, and the survivor is in no position to tell us. However, this time your drone will record everything as it happens”

“Hah, if you are trying to calm me, motherfucker, it isn’t working!” Heather screamed, her legs failing and bringing her to her knees.

“Listen, I have been patient with you out of politeness. I don’t fucking care what happens to you” he answered with a hint of anger for the first time “Either that thing absorbs you or it eats you. Both outcomes will give us valuable info. Think about all the lives you have ruined, all the crimes you have committed. To me, to everyone, you are dead anyway, so if we can use your corpse to advance science, so much the better”

Despite her inherent disregard for law or ethics, those harsh words stung her when at any other point in her life they wouldn’t have. Faced with what appeared to be her imminent demise, Heather Nem felt for the first time the load of mortality, and that load came weighted with all the sins she had darkened her soul with. Not that it mattered anymore; she was going to pay for them, with interests so high it wasn’t even funny as dark humor. Head lowered by shame, regret and fear, she waited for the beast to deliver her well earned punishment.

The tremors, that had increased as the creature advanced slowly towards her, stopped suddenly. Even with her gaze cast down, she could feel the looming mass of the creature in front and above her, the rumbling and hisses of the massive living body. After a few moments of impasse, curiosity trumped terror.

Despite her uncontrollable shivering, Heather raised her head and, like the prey she had become, looked at her hunter in abject defeat. The faint light of the miner’s beacons and the drone sensors wasn’t able to convey the whole image of the grotesque creature, but what was revealed was enough to make the hardened convict lose control of her bowels and piss herself.

The shape that loomed above her was undeniably some kind of bizarre wormlike being that, now that its prey had been cornered, had dropped the stealth and shone in a phosphorescent rosy light. That sudden luminescence gave Heather at last the chance to see its body, made of rings upon rings of muscular gray flesh, stretching as far as the sight went, visible thanks to the fact that the creature didn’t occupy the whole tunnel.

However, what threatened to shatter the last remains of her sanity were the wart-like protrusions that appeared interspersed between the rings at certain intervals, bubbles of pink translucent flesh buried deep in the sides of the worm that the scientists had assured her were the prolapsed uteri of the miners they hadn’t been able to rescue.

What seemed at first like it should have been a symmetric arrangement was marred with charred burns and partially healed scars in the places where the marines had attacked it. A gaping hole in its right side, where another of those warts should have been, marked the place where the lone survivor had been forcibly pulled from while she retained enough apparent humanity to warrant the effort.

Paralyzed by fear, with her heart on the verge of exploding, she kept raising her gaze, and finally looked at the “head” towering upon her prone body. The frontal appendage of the alien resembled the closed bud of a rose. It was a tightly packed collection of shiny crimson flesh folds looming over her, snaking back and forth, as if unsure of what to do with her.

Everything was eerily quiet, and even the chatty scientist had shut his mouth, maybe awed by the spectacle of the four meters thick alien worm. The only sounds heard in the pregnant silence were the organic gurgles of the creature and the soft mechanical whirring of the sensor drone.

Then, without even stopping to think about it, Heather’s hand moved to her right eye to clear an irritating drop of sweat. That innocent, automatic move seemed to prompt the creature into action.

Slowly but inexorably, the fleshy petals opened like a flower until the gaping hole that was the maw of the creature was fully exposed, blasting heather with a gust of wind loaded with the same smell she had detected earlier. Dozens of thin tentacles shot from inside the pink phosphorescent creature targeting Heather.
Like the last straw that broke the camel’s back, Heather regained her wits for a moment and tried to turn around to flee, her primal survival instinct kicking in full force to save her from the imposing predator. She was too late by a second but, more likely, she had been late since she had decided to become a crime lord.

Some of the tentacles grabbed her by the ankles, some by the wrists, and soon she was effortlessly lifted and suspended in the air in front of the deep circular opening, framed by the floral crown of flesh that passed as the mouth of the alien life form and lined with appendages of wicked form and unfathomable function.

Uselessly kicking and flailing, Heather screamed once again in absolute terror, the voice of the scientist trying to calm her all but unheard in her panic attack. As if annoyed with its victim, the worm launched one tentacle tipped by a vicious looking bony needle into her thigh, injecting something into her bloodstream that quickly relaxed all her muscles, making her body go limp and silencing the shrill scream.

“… Calm down! You have to calm down! …” echoed the frantic voice of the scientist inside her head “ … wait, what’s going on? … ” he said suddenly.

“I don’t know, doc. I suddenly feel very good” she answered groggily

“It seems to have injected you some kind of combination of anesthetic, muscle relaxant and mild euphoric. This is very interesting; it could explain why none of its victims fought back, despite having heavy mining equipment that could be easily weaponized”

“That thing is much uglier than I ever imagined, and I don’t care! What is happening to me?” Heather giggled in drugged stupor.

“It’s not an uncommon strategy of predatory species to drug their victims…” He said, to no one in particular “We are more interested in what is it going to do with you now”

While they talked, the rest of the feeler tentacles had decided to explore her spread out body, suspended in the air. The muscular appendages, surprisingly dry but silky smooth, moved with grace and dexterity leaving no inch of skin untouched. The gentle touch combined with the unnatural calm created by the chemicals was having an effect on her arousal once again and, despite herself, she found her body responding to the touch of the worm.

“Aaaand, this leaves out the alien eating you, miss. The clones we sent were disposed of very messily before this stage, you have been lucky”

“Oh, yes, very lucky indeed. I guess you could take my place”

“Haven’t I told you? Males don’t seem to be very different from clones for this guy”

“How do you know that?” she said raggedly, as one particularly adventurous tentacle was rubbing her crotch with delicious, albeit unintended, sensuality

“Politicians prefer dirtying their hands first with male convicts. Very old fashioned I suppose, although they themselves are very, very old”

“I should have known” she replied while more and more tentacles joined the fun and began covering her body “What happens now?” she added tiredly, resigned to her fate.

“We don’t really know. We will keep monitoring your brain and body while the equipment inside you endures. The drone will keep scanning you from the outside and acting as a backup relay for your internal sensors. Depending on what the creature does to you we will rescue you… or not”

“How sweet and chivalrous of you” Heather spat.

“You can take comfort on your life being used for the good of humanity, instead of being an ugly sore at the side of civilization”

Heather would have liked to use her drug fueled clarity of mind to inject some more retorts in the conversation, but a slightly thicker tentacle, maybe three inches in diameter, was probing at her asshole with tenacious determination. For better or worse, Heather was no stranger to anal sex (as well as many other mainstream sexual practices that fell well within what in the old twenty first century would have been called extremely deviant paraphilias) and, since her destiny was sealed anyway, she decided to make the most out of the situation, those scientists be damned.

Closing her eyes, she imagined being suspended in a particularly tight bondage harness, while a handsome stud plowed her ass without mercy. However, that imaginary stud wouldn’t have been able to hold a candle against the intruder that was actually penetrating her shit chute.

One of the most popular genemods in the market was the anal lubrication gland. It was thanks to that that Heather wasn’t suffering too much from the incredible friction of the tentacle inching its way inside her. Ever since her cunt had begun to lubricate in lurid fantasies a while ago, her ass had responded in kind and now it was easing the passage of the muscular appendage deep into her bowels. Because that thing didn’t look like it was fucking her, making piston motions or anything, it looked like it was spelunking.

It surely was a very bizarre experience, like a particularly nasty cramp that only kept increasing. Meter after meter of meat sausage were stuffed forcefully inside her innards, increasing the pressure exponentially. It wasn’t really painful (the innards are not quite profusely innervated as the skin and the anesthetic was still kicking full force) but, as everyone that had had to sprint to the bathroom for a very loaded number two could attest, it was not comfortable. If Heather had been pressed to describe that sensation, she would have said exactly that, but increased twelvefold and getting worse by the moment.

In a painfully short time she looked nine months pregnant, and could feel her abdominals ripping in places, which did hurt, a lot. Clenching her teeth, she opened her eyes and was treated to a very bizarre sight. Her toned abs, which she was very proud of, had been replaced by a hideous balloon of flesh decorated by innumerable crimson stretch marks, the signs of her skin giving the ghost in multiple places. Thankfully it wasn’t bleeding, yet. 

“Oh, god, make it stop!” she pleaded, the deal she had rejected for this seeming sweeter by the moment.

“The tentacle has passed the intestines now” her invisible companion said “It should have more room if it keeps going, although you could very well suffocate if it reaches your pharynx”

“Right now, that would be a blessing” Heather answered to no one through tight lips.

It looked like the creature was really intent on testing where did her hole ended, because the poor woman soon felt her stomach gurgling as the tentacle broke in, poking here and there in alien-like curiosity.

Heather began to retch uncontrollably from the reflexes triggered by the questing appendage. Adding the imperious need to vomit to the extreme need to poop was threatening to make her unconscious, but the tentacle didn’t care and kept coiling inside her stomach, looking for an exit. Only when the organ was filled to capacity it finally found it, the valve that opened the passage to her esophagus and then her mouth. That valve was designed as one way only but the alien was tenacious, if nothing else.

After much pushing, which made Heather very, very sick; the damned meat snake finally broke through. From there it was a matter of just forcing its way upwards, and Heather felt like a porn star making the biggest deepthroat ever, only in reverse. The vomiting spasms of her esophagus were only helping the tentacle go faster, making her neck bulge with the tip of the intruder.

Finally, after the last thunderous retch, she jerked her head backwards and the fat tentacle tip, stretching her jaw to the point of dislocation, emerged from her mouth in a shower of gastric juice.

Heather couldn’t breathe, she was asphyxiating quickly and even if she had been able to call for help, she knew help wouldn’t come. The perfect picture of an impalement, her throat was enlarged obscenely; her jaw, on the verge of breaking; her lips, stretched taut around the unyielding invader; her lungs on fire due to the lack of oxygen.

Before falling unconscious, Heather looked cross eyed one last time at the tip of the tentacle protruding from her mouth. It resembled a bud, like the head of the monster above her when it had been closed and, similarly, it began to unfold, sticking its fleshy petals all around her mouth until she looked like someone had glued a rose to her lower face.


1. Chapter 2

Heather was enjoying a very disturbing experience as the tentacle that had penetrated her own body so completely retreated inside the entrails of the beast with her in tow. If the exterior of the worm appeared silky smooth and completely dry, the interior was the polar opposite. As soon as the maw closed, she was doused in all kinds of gooey liquids until she was completely drenched in translucent slime.

Having accustomed her eyes to the scarce pink luminosity coming from some phosphorescent organs, she could see in detail how the cavity that was the mouth of the beast; barely big enough to fit her bloated body, it was lined with a cornucopia of organic bits. There were bony protrusions, wriggly appendages, yawning stomas, gland sacs dripping ichors, questing suckers and many other unidentifiable things, all of them touching, licking or pinching her. The tentacle that had her speared came from behind a closed sphincter leading further inside the internal workings of the worm, heralding more indignities down the line.

As if echoing her dire thoughts, many needle tipped tentacles, like the one which first anesthetized her, appeared from hidden pores in the inner tissues of the flesh chamber and began piercing her weak limbs in multiple places. Immediately, the substance that the tentacles had injected made her lose almost all the sensitivity on her legs and arms from the hips and shoulders down.

Having seeing what remained of the body of the rescued woman she knew what came next. The injector appendages, their work finished, retreated inside their holes only to be replaced by a new, thicker, brand of tentacle, whose shape betrayed their function to Heather’s horror. Those new tentacles reminded her of oversized lampreys, their tips a circular mouth lined with sharp looking teeth.
As if not to disappoint, the toothed tentacles launched themselves to Heather’s limbs in multiple places and began tearing chunks of flesh from her. Had she been able to scream, she would have done so until her voice gave up. Looking in disbelief, but unable to fall unconscious due to the chemicals that coursed her veins, Heather saw how her beautiful arms and legs became full of raggedy red holes in a matter of seconds.

By all fairness, being disassembled like that should have hurt a lot more than it was doing. Having your flesh rent asunder by a dozen of hungry mouths was not something Heather would have thought a clean affair. There was pain, which was undeniable. She felt the suction cup kissing her skin, and how the tiny teeth sank into it and rotated like a saw. She felt how the muscle fibers tore and were separated from her, chunk by chunk.

And, despite feeling everything, she could somehow detach herself from the process. Her shocked mind took a while to realize, but finally reached the conclusion that it had to be the effect of the substance injected prior this grisly dismembering. The tentacles continued their relentless work, eating, swallowing and repeating, allowing Heather to see the white of the bone in some places, but there was surprisingly little blood. The transparent ooze that covered her and seeped constantly into the freshly made holes seemed to staunch the bleeding almost before it happened.

After what seemed hours to Heather, all the muscle was consumed, reducing her legs and arms to their skeletal frames under the ass and shoulders. Without stopping there, the toothed tentacles attacked again with renewed vigor, making short work of the remaining limb structure and leaving her a much manageable and smaller form, having being reduced to a compact torso with pulsing crimson stumps.

Tears flowed freely from her eyes, diluting into the slime that so permeated her skin. The survivor woman had been similarly amputated and the scientists had speculated that it was an efficient method to reduce metabolic maintenance and optimize long-term storage space. Knowing it beforehand hadn’t made the actual procedure any easier.

Having completed the initial preparations, the sphincter from where the main tentacle protruded opened like an iris, revealing a tight tunnel illuminated by phosphorescent ribs all the way down the alien’s body. The tentacle began to retreat inside, and she was dragged alongside it into the next stage of her processing.

There was an unfortunate side effect of the movement of the impaling appendage. As it shortened its length to carry her to her destination, its girth was increasing proportionally. If her abdominals had been on the verge of breaking before, she could feel how they slowly ripped and tore in the area around the linea alba as her intestines expanded even more.

The walls of the conduit closed on Heather, squeezing her body in rhythmic, peristaltic motions. The shape of her body, bloated like an egg, helped the worm to move her across the claustrophobic passage through its glowing entrails. It’s difficult to perform even the most basic of actions when powerful muscles are constricting your body from every angle, but the swallowed woman managed to open her eyes in some places when the pressure eased, and saw other closed sphincters at regular intervals left and right. Given the placement of the uterine protrusions in both sides of the worm, it was not difficult to guess that those were the entrances to the final resting places of the assimilated females, but the final nail that drove it home was that a very human looking patch of hair decorated each and every sphincter she could see.

It wasn’t long before she felt the direction of her movement change and how her body was rotated and turned to the side. She had reached her destination, and the muscle ring leading to her very own chamber opened before her eyes.

With some difficulty, as she seemed pregnant with quadruplets in her last month of pregnancy, the tentacle yanked hard, forcing her bloated body past the tight valve into a sac just big enough to contain her with some wiggle room. When the sphincter finally closed just behind her head, she could feel the tug of her trapped mane of hair, adding her golden tresses to the collection that lined the walls of the esophagus of the beast.

Now that she was finally settled in her new home and the entrance was sealed for good, the chamber began to fill with a dense clear fluid that exuded from the walls of the sac. In under a minute, she was floating weightlessly inside the amniotic bag, except instead of being anchored by her ready to explode navel, she was chained to the walls by the tentacle penetrating her asshole.

The sac glowed a bit less than the mouth, but she soon adjusted to the new luminosity and explored the limits of what was to be her living place from now on. Even terror and despair had their limits: if they didn’t make your heart explode, in time your mind and body learned to adapt. She was still scared, but a form of insanity was creeping inside her mind, the last resort of her brain to help her cope.

With the sac now full with liquid, Heather saw small albino squid-like creatures swimming around her torso. Also, smaller tentacles lining the walls with strange tips danced calmly to the currents brought by the snaking movement of the worm through the tunnels. The dim pink lighting, complete absence of sound and the rocking movement was a strangely peaceful combination, even if she was still cramping everywhere. It was exactly like returning to the womb, and it was lulling her to sleep despite the pains of her tortured body. Alas, it was not to be, at least not soon.

From behind her, where she couldn’t see, two tentacles sporting a crown of vicious barbed needles speared her lower back, eliciting a renewed jolt of pain that rose from her spine. She writhed as much as her bloated form allowed her, but the wicked tentacles had attached themselves firmly to her back, boring inside her kidneys and connecting her filtering organs to the larger system of the worm.

Without giving the anguished woman pause, another thin tentacle moved towards her plump, juicy cunt. However, instead of entering her vagina, the filthy bastard toyed around her clit, tugging the folds of her hood and fully exposing the erect organ. That curious appendage had other plans for her, though. After arousing Heather to the verge of a masochistic induced orgasm, the tentacle pushed against the tiny opening of her urethra until it forced its way in.

Again, Heather squirmed with renewed vigor when the unwelcomed intruder penetrated her delicate piss chute without mercy. It was not the worst of the aches she was being forced to endure by a large margin, but everything was adding quickly and threatening to shatter her sanity for good. By a small mercy, the urethral stretching was stimulating the deep roots of the clitoris as it entered the short tube and, thanks in no small part to the cocktail of alien chemicals saturating her blood vessels, she began to cum very hard.

As if sensing how her brain synapses lit on fire due to the sensory overload, another tentacle, armed with a razor sharp bone blade, stabbed her bellybutton in a lightning fast movement. Her straining abdomen, having been stretched to the maximum and beyond, popped like a watermelon in a microwave, splitting itself clean with a sickening ripping sound all along the middle, from just above her pubis to a bit under the sternum. The torn abdominal flaps, unable to contain the tentacle filled intestines, gave way and spilled all her innards in a cloud of ropey sausages floating and coiling in the liquid medium.

Noticing the sudden release of all the tension that had accumulated in her belly during the last hour, Heather opened her eyes to see the gory show of her tangled intestines floating before her. Still basking in the aftermath of a brutal orgasm, all she could manage to think was how grateful she felt that the cramps had ceased at last. When she saw how the small squid-like creatures, a bit smaller than a pinky, moved to the ragged flaps of muscle and skin and began eating the uneven parts she would have even laughed. Heather guessed that they were some kind of symbiotic creature with a function similar to those cleaning fishes of the aquariums and, unlike the rest of the creative tortures, the tiny mouths nibbling the tattered tissue just tickled pleasantly. The alien squids just kept cleaning the sides of the horrible wound that almost had bisected her so she concentrated again on what was happening inside her abused urinary tract.

The tip of the urethral invader finally reached her bladder and flattened its head, effectively anchoring itself inside. That particular tentacle was, in fact, little more than a hollow tube and, after being comfortably rooted, it began to grow, increasing its diameter as its outer layer thinned. Heather was assaulted by a myriad of new unbearable pains, as the additional girth of the living catheter forced her urethra to rip and tear across its whole length to accommodate the intruder. Her anguished cry died in a muffled gurgle inside her blocked throat like all the screams that had preceded it.

Even if urethral intercourse was a pretty standard practice in the modern sexual catalogue, it required a body modification procedure or constant training, things she hadn’t bothered with as her interests ran in different directions. However, the damned appendage didn’t have that basic consideration with her and kept widening without pause until it reached the girth of a particularly large human cock, making her feel again to the point of bursting. Squinting her eyes she could see a hint of her progressively inflating bladder between the coils of her innards.

As her piss hole accustomed to its permanent attachment, the mad stinging slowly decreased until it was just an intense, yet manageable, dull ache. Having lost sight of her bladder again, Heather supposed that, in time, her intestines would untangle enough that she would be able to see it clearly all the time.

Having left the torn sides of her abdomen as clean and smooth as if cut with a scalpel, the tiny squids swam slowly towards her breasts. Using their sucker mouths, they attached themselves all around the circumference of her areolas and dead atop her nipple until her perky nubs were covered in wriggling white bodies. Recounting all her experiences within the alien worm until now she expected pain, and was not disappointed. This time, though, it was something she was at least marginally familiar with. The symbiotic squids had stabbed her tender tits with a thick needle each, and began injecting something into her aching mammary glands.

Unlike urethral play, she had indulged in needle games from time to time with a guy she had trusted her life with. Being an ultra powerful crime lord didn’t mean you couldn’t explore some kinks now and then. She had stopped doing that when an opposing Mafioso had blown her lovers’ brains on the streets of Mars, but the piercing sensation briefly reminded her of their time together. The fond memory, even in the midst of her despair, made her lips curve faintly around the tentacle lodged inside her mouth.

For their part, one by one the albino squids withdrew the fat needles from her breasts, their cargo delivered, their short life spent. As they detached from her nipples they sank, immobile, to the bottom of the sac. There, feeder tentacles, much like the ones that had amputated her, caught the tiny dead creatures as they fell and quickly disposed of them. From the multiple puncture wounds of her nipples a brief cloud of white fluid, speckled with diminutive spheres of what looked like white caviar, floated away and dissolved in the liquid filling the sac. Heather dreaded what those substances would do, having been injected so deep inside her breasts.

Unexpectedly, her head cleared as a rush of delicious air filled again her chest. Her still confused mind was unable to comprehend what was happening, but her own sadistic Jiminy Cricket came to her aid.

“Wow! That was impressive; we thought you were a goner for a moment”

After an embarrassing moment of silence, Heather rolled her eyes in disgust.

“Oh, right, you can’t talk like that, sorry. Better for me I guess, I was becoming tired of your sassiness”

Heather hoped that the mental zinger she hadn’t been able to say was being recorded loud and clear.

“That stings! Still, better reading it on a screen than having to listen it from you. Anyways, that tentacle seems to be absorbing oxygen from the air and transporting it to your lungs that, by the way, are being quickly colonized by smaller tendrils coming from the main one”

Heather didn’t really want to know that. The only thing she wanted to know was how to stop the horrible cramps she was having in her whole digestive system, from mouth to asshole. Cranking her neck with difficulty because of the heavy mass blocking her throat, she looked at her hideously bloated belly and hoped, not for the first time, that the creature gave her a quick release.

The alien seemed to have other plans, though. Now that she was effectively speared, the rest of the tentacles holding her withdrew inside the mouth and her limbs, deprived of support, flopped to her sides weakly. Slowly, the tentacle that traversed her body followed its smaller siblings, dragging her unresisting body inside.

“From this point on” the scientist said ”we are switching all your channels to send only. That creature is pretty opaque to most signals so, even with the help of drone relays, we are going to need all the bandwidth available to receive data. You are alone, figuratively speaking. Good luck” he finished, with a hint of true compassion for the first time.

Her mind silent at last, all that Heather could think about was how the flowery mouth closed from above.

Outside, at the cave, the drone had recorded everything in high definition detail across multiple specters of light. When the alien finally swallowed Heather and closed its mouth, the dutiful floating robot activated its deep scanning functions and followed the worm as it retreated to its nest. For all the attention the alien gave the machine, it might as well not had even been there.

Soon, many other similar probes, having been awaiting that moment, came from different branches of the cave and joined what had been Heather’s companion until now. After networking themselves, they trailed the alien back to its lair, all the while recording the woman’s path inside the creature with as much detail as possible. Even if she didn’t know the purpose of that last performance, she knew that it would further transform her body. Each moment she spent inside the worm, Heather lost a bit of her humanity and was slowly assimilated into the biological machinery of the alien, a procedure that would continue unimpeded until she was just another set of organs for the creature, just like the rest of the women previously captured. She wondered if the scientists would send the marines to rescue her or if they would allow the worm to process her until the end.

If they acted soon she would make a full recovery, maybe not in that mangled body, but as long as her brain remained functional, they could just download it into another freshly cloned one, even deleting her memories of the horrible experiment as a bonus. However, if she knew her captors as well as she thought she did, that would probably not be the case. There was no value in letting her free right now, the whole purpose of the ordeal was to monitor how her brain was remodeled into whatever was what the alien did with its victims. Pondering her situation for a moment, Heather didn’t feel like she was thinking any differently at all. Didn’t they say that you don’t notice when you become insane? How was she to know if the conversion had started or how far along the road it was?

A long time passed without any other change, so it seemed like that stage of the processing was finally over. Now that she wasn’t cramping anymore thanks to having been all but eviscerated and the pain in her urethra and nipples having been reduced to a dull, heavy pulse, exhaustion finally caught her and she drifted to sleep at last.

Heather was standing (standing?) atop the surface of a strange planet. She couldn’t remember how she had arrived there (and naked to boot!) or what was the purpose of her being there. The night sky was full of stars and nebulas she couldn’t recognize and two colored rings, like those of the gas giants back on Sol system, adorned the high orbit of the celestial body she was on.

The ground under her feet (feet?) wasn’t made of soil or rocks, like that of Earth, Luna or Mars. Her soles sank into a mantle of purple spongy flesh that apparently covered every geological feature. From the meaty layer anemone-like plants flowered, veins as thick as a man throbbed, rocks shaped like hearts pulsed, yawning stomas showered every surface with ichors, keeping them wet, and everything together made a muted cacophony of organic gurgles that reminded her of a very distressed stomach. Everything was so bizarre yet so familiar, as if she had seen it, or something like it, before.

“Oh, a new guest!”

Heather turned around at the sound of the female voice that had spoken behind her. What she saw almost made her fall to her knees in disbelief. A beautiful redhead woman, maybe in her thirties and as naked as she was, was laying spread eagled atop the organic layer. Her legs and arms were buried deep inside the purple flesh, with only her torso fully exposed.

An impossibly huge penile appendage protruding from the soil was fucking her violently, turning her cunt into a ring of discolored flesh and making impressions in her flat belly as it relentlessly pounded her vagina. The strange woman’s face was flush with perspiration; it was clearly the face of a person in the throes of ecstasy, yet she had managed to retain enough clarity of mind to speak to her.

“Are you okay?” Heather said worriedly “Do you need help?”

“Not at all, not at all” she chimed merrily,”please, sit alongside me so we can talk. It has been a while since I could speak with someone new. Don’t mind the other girls; they are still sleepy from the last iteration”

“Other girls?” Heather looked around and saw that the person she was speaking with wasn’t the only human buried in the ground of that alien planet. At least a dozen women were similarly fused to the ground at regular intervals behind the redhead, and were also convulsing dreamily as giant phalluses deformed rhythmically their midsections in pregnancy-like bulges. If the first woman hadn’t pointed it to her, she could have missed the captives entirely, so integrated they were with the local landscape.

Noticing her distress, the unknown woman spoke again.

“I see you are still confused. It’s only natural, being your first time here. Don’t worry, you will understand, in time”

“Understand what? And where is this place?”

“Understand your purpose, silly girl” the mysterious girl laughed “And, for the second question, this place is just a memory”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“As I said, you still need time; it’s far too soon for you. You don’t remember how you came here, right?”

“No, I can’t reme… ow, my head hurts” Heather said clutching her head between her hands.

“Don’t worry, that only means He has started with your brain. It will pass”

“Who is he?” she asked, rubbing her temples to alleviate the headache.

“He is the one whose memory we are in right now”

“I don’t understand. I am afraid” the former criminal admitted “I want to go home” she finally cried like she didn’t do since she was a little child, her defenses crumbling against her dire circumstances.

“I’m sorry, that won’t be possible anymore. You will become His, as we have done, and you will realize what a wonderful gift He is giving you”

“What’s your name?” Heather asked between sobs

“In other life I was called Nesta. Now it doesn’t matter anymore”

“Heather” she replied, wiping her tears “Pleased to meet you” she added, extending her hand in reflex, only to withdraw it when she noticed the futility of the gesture.

“Don’t worry, you are not alone anymore. As you can see, I can’t shake your hand but… maybe a kiss?” Nesta said with pleading, lustful eyes.

Heather, like almost ninety nine percent of women, was fully bisexual, and Nesta was very good looking, at least the parts that were visible. It wasn’t a difficult favor to grant, and she was starved for human contact of any kind.

Going to her knees, Heather placed a hand in the rhythmically bulging abdomen of the lying woman, feeling the mass of purple flesh stretching the skin and displacing the organs. It was so perverse, yet so erotic, that her cunt tingled in sympathy. Lowering her head until she could feel the ragged breath of Nesta in her face, Heather pressed her own lips to the quivering lips of the trapped woman and pushed her tongue inside the inviting wetness of her mouth.

Nesta tasted very sweet. As their tongues danced in the most passionate French kiss Heather could remember, she closed her eyes and lost herself in the pleasure jolts that flowed from her lips to the tips of her toes. It had been so long since she had enjoyed the delights of a soft, feminine body, that she almost forgot the context she found herself in.

After a short while, Heather began hearing loud screams coming from the rest of the trapped girls. She could recognize a strange mixture of pleasure and pain in their cries, and tried to dislodge from Nesta to see. To her dismay, she found that she couldn’t.

Nesta’s tongue was growing incredibly fast, trapping her own tongue and then filling her mouth to capacity. Their lips had fused between themselves and even trying with all her might she couldn’t free herself. Her muffled protests only prompted Nesta to renew her tongue attack, so Heather tried to use her limbs to exert additional force. However, her hands and legs were sinking into the ground and inside the flesh of Nesta, making Heather enter in a panic state.

By the corner of her eyes, the frantic woman could see how the rest of the prisoners convulsed in orgasmic throes, their bellies inflating to ridiculous proportions, almost tripling the sizes of their owners. It was an untenable situation and, as expected, one by one the oversized abdomens exploded in a shower of gory entrails. From the eviscerated girls, which were still moaning deliriously, gigantic alien flowers emerged and opened their petals to the faint light of the stars and planetary rings.

“This is only the beginning” Nesta said inside her mind. And then, everything went black.


Chapter 3

Heather woke up with a start, the last echoes of a nightmare still resonating inside her mind. It didn’t last long, though, and like dreams usually do, faded quickly into the hidden corners of her memory.

Her situation hadn’t changed much in all the time she had been asleep. It could have been minutes, hours or months, as she had no way of calculating the time inside that damned cocoon. She felt rested, though, even if in desperate need to relieve herself, but all the suffering she had enjoyed thanks to the ministrations of her host had faded into the background. In fact, the only discomfort she still felt was from the urethral and digestive tract tentacles, and it was more a fullness feeling than the debilitating pain that had almost broken her. That didn’t mean some other changes hadn’t been made while she was out.

To begin with, she looked cross eyed at the tight mass of rubbery filaments that protruded from her nostrils. The picture would have been comical outside of the terrible context, but there it meant that her sinuses were full to the brim with the offshoot of the tentacle that also sealed her wide open mouth. From that place to her brain there was almost no distance, and she wondered if her grey matter was being similarly assaulted.

Putting those thoughts aside, as they got her nowhere, she directed her gaze to her breasts. During her time unconscious they had grown at least three sizes, and now floated gently in the liquid, their firmness lost to their newfound weight. The size gain was not the only new development of her twin girls: they itched madly all across their surface and the puncture wounds in her nipples and areolas not only hadn’t healed, they had grown until she could have sworn that a wire could be inserted in each one without problems.

Looking further down, she confirmed how her intestines had completely unraveled, covering almost all the free space in the amniotic bag and letting her see beyond them with more clarity. Her bladder was inflated to a comical size and now poked above her pelvis, nestled between the flaps at the bottom of the abdominal cut. Her balloon shaped organ was now the size of a softball ball, and certainly was the cause of her overwhelming need to pee. However, with her urethra so blocked by the penis sized tentacle, that relief was not going to happen anytime soon.

Without any new development in sight, Heather tried to calculate how much time she would need to go insane from isolation and boredom.

Was dying preferable to this fate? Even in that day and age, religion hadn’t completely disappeared and kept promising an afterlife behind the door of death. For a pragmatic like her those teachings were just the ramblings of madmen of eras past, when people was so terrified of death that any chance of escape was met with utmost devotion and a shower of tributes to the scammers that promised little and delivered less.

Nowadays, anyone could be immortal if he or she so desired, and Heather didn’t want to face oblivion so soon in her life but, if the afterlife really existed, her current predicament could feel like a blessing in comparison, given the lifestyle she had led.
Minutes, maybe hours, passed by and nothing changed in her small gloomy world of amniotic liquid and floating entrails. Being a limbless torso she didn’t even have the luxury of masturbating to pass the time. It was getting to a point where something, anything, even a new hideous torture, would be a welcome pastime to fight the tedium.

Had she ever entertained any notion of that process being marginally erotic? She could remember how not two days ago (or was it a week?) the sight of the rescued victim had elicited a perverse tingle down her spine, or how the thoughts of absolute submission when first trapped by the worm had awakened that hidden part of her that craved surrendering control for once In her life. Even if she had orgasmed pretty hard when that damned tentacle had violated her urethra while her belly was being split down the middle, that memory was fading away as quickly as her last dream.
Thus, it was a surprise when she felt a tangle of small tentacles beginning to probe around her labia. Maybe a new transformation was incoming! That was interesting enough to warrant her full attention, so she concentrated all her senses and tried to imagine what the worm had in store for her now. Painful or pleasurable, it didn’t matter anymore as long as it was something different.

The questing appendages were familiarizing themselves with the shape and elastic properties of her labia majora and minora, rubbing and tugging and pinching and twisting every inch of flesh they could get their rubbery tips on. Heather marveled at how the tentacles reacted to the sensations they were eliciting, it was almost as if they were learning how to pleasure her. That was an interesting new development, to say the least, and maybe it meant that the worm was finally messing with her brain and getting feedback, which then was used to perfect its technique.

Whatever the cause, the truth was that those damned meaty snakes were bringing her to a climax faster than any human or robot had ever done before. Having a direct line to her brain, if that was what was happening, meant that every action could be corrected on the fly to maximize pleasure. When one of her freakishly long impromptu lovers discovered her clit again, she shuddered thinking about the possibilities it opened.

As if not to disappoint, the clit tentacle quickly settled into a rubbing and tugging routine like its siblings that made her cum explosively at last, overloading her system in a cascade of endorphins. It was a very different kind of orgasm than usual, having no limbs and with her abdominals completely non functional it meant that the delicious contractions that suffused her whole body were absent this time, concentrating the discharge in her pelvic floor instead, and resonating wildly with her overstretched asshole. Had she had any strength in her jaws, she would have probably bitten the tip of the main tentacle clean. As things stood, it was just a matter of her mutilated, gutted body convulsing and rocking wildly inside her watery tomb.

As the experiment with her clitoris continued, the creature somehow discovered that the flesh covering her main pleasure organ was interfering with its efforts, so it prompted a toothed tentacle to emerge from a wall and clear the obstruction. The lamprey looking appendage attached itself to the hood in precise movements, and ripped it cleanly in a chirurgic, calculated twist, leaving the clit slightly scratched but otherwise intact. Like with the rest of the mutilations, the ragged flaps of her hood didn’t even have time to bleed before cicatrizing in the liquid medium.

The improvised operation freed her erect organ from its prison of flesh, adding at least half an inch to the exposed surface. Giving the tentacles more area to manipulate increased the intensity of her orgasms one more notch.

Without the hood in the way, the tangle of tentacles was able to twist around the now pinky sized clit and begin tugging rhythmically, adjusting the strength to Heather’s response but never lowering the pressure or stopping at all. The maddening assault had made Heather’s brain deliriously incoherent and, when some of the appendages entered her vagina at last and began to poke her g-spot with incredible accuracy, she again cummed her brains out.

“So alone. Alone no more”

Who had said that? Heather had accustomed herself to the blessed silence inside her mind when the scientist had closed the channels that the return of an inner voice took her by surprise, defusing her orgasm just a bit and returning some semblance of sanity to her overloaded brain.

“Who are you?” she mentally asked the presence.

“I am”

That last thought hadn’t been formed in words, it was more like a feeling. She feared that her wits were at last slipping from her, and anger replaced fear.

“You are what? Are you the alien? Let me out!” she yelled mentally.

“I am you. You are I. I need you. We need you. Alone no more.”

The feeling transmitted that time carried so much more than what her brain had interpreted as words that she was overwhelmed by the vastness of the mind behind it. It spoke of the infinite void between the stars and the miracle of the life sprouting in defiance to entropy. She felt like crying.

“I bring you joy. You bring me children”

With that last thought, the tentacles renewed their assault without mercy, again flooding Heather’s brain in endorphins and dopamine and making her field of view fill with white dancing stars. The tentacles at her clit were still tugging with the apparent intention of ripping the organ clean from its socket. Very small tendrils with razor sharp points made progressive cuts on the base of the clitoris with utmost precision, severing the tendons that held the pleasure organ in place, exposing more and more flesh to the healing liquid. Other needle tipped tendrils injected the newly freed tissues as they were brought out with substances that made the flesh swell and increased the sensitivity threefold.

In little less than half an hour, Heather had lost count of the orgasms she had endured, and the pain mixed with the pleasure in her brain in ways that made the two inexorably linked in her psyche.

What the tentacles kept massaging and rubbing did not look like a normal clit anymore. It looked like an inverted Y, with two short prongs emerging from what had been the clitoral bed, joining into the longest shaft, which now was the size of a little boy’s cock. The whole ensemble was raw red and pulsing madly as it assimilated the cocktail of chemicals that it had been dosed with.

Meanwhile, the tentacles that had entered her vagina hadn’t been idle. Apart from pleasuring her clit from the inside, some had gone further up to the cervix, the door of her womb, and had been poking at the entrance to gain access. It was not a difficult task, given the circumstances Heather was in. Her cervical O gaped like a fish out of the water at the tune of every orgasm and, one by one, at least eight tentacles had found their way inside her birth chamber and were now attaching themselves to the uterine walls.

Once they were firmly lodged, they began to retract at unison, tugging from the inside and lowering the uterus slowly but relentlessly. Having your uterus forcibly pulled in that way would have been an excruciating process in any other circumstances, but the clitoris tentacles were doing a mighty job of never letting Heather’s orgasm to crash down. The powerful pain signals were drowned by the cascade of pleasure that radiated endlessly from her partially excised clit and the cramps were being lumped with the rest of her muscular spasms (of the muscles that still existed or worked, that is).

Little by little, Heather’s vagina was unrolled like a sock. The tentacle filled cervix was the first thing to appear, followed shortly by a fleshy tube that soon reached four inches long, resembling a particularly wrinkled penis. Thus, her uterus was completely prolapsed and the tentacles at the clitoris stopped their work and retreated, leaving Heather spent and twitching with the aftermath.

When she regained her senses enough to feel that something was different down there, she took a while to muster the courage to look the new transformation. That statement of the alien about children had made her purpose, and the purpose of the entire host of trapped woman, clear at last. She was becoming a living nursery for that abomination, and the worst fact was that, if the payoff was pleasure like what she had just experienced, it might even be worthwhile!

Scared by that line of thought, of surrendering her freedom, her own sense of self, in exchange for carnal gratification, she took some time to collect the last of her dwindling wits. The fiercely independent woman, so fond of doing her will above everyone else’s that she had gone outside the law, bending to the reproductive whims of an alien creature!

It was an outrageous notion but, despite intellectually refusing the idea on the basis of her principles alone, her body was betraying her with each passing moment.

Finally, despite being so tired that all she wanted was to sleep for a bit, the feeling of her uterus being directly violated forced her to look downstairs. Between the coils of her intestines and behind her inflated bladder, she confirmed how her cunt now sported a pink tube of flesh, not very different from the accursed tentacles that permeated every surface of the worm.

A tangle of smaller manipulator tentacles emerged from her cervix and, if the painful pressure she was feeling was some indication, they were trying to expand the cervical ring a bit more than it already was.

Heather remembered the uterine warts decorating the sides of the worm, and imagined that soon, her own uterus would be added to that arrangement. She would push egg after egg for that creature until, spent, she would be finally digested as raw materials, or so she guessed.

With those dire thoughts in her mind, she finally fell asleep.

“You are back!” said a voice behind her

Heather opened her eyes with a start, not too surprised to find herself in the alien planet again. The landscape was the same she had been in the last time, except that now everything seemed clearer, crispier.

“Nesta, right?” Heather replied, turning around.

“And you remember me, you are advancing very quickly”

That Nesta woman that had entangled her in a kiss last time was now rooted in the ground like a tree. Her skin was crisscrossed from the inside with what looked like moving thick tubes and, from the wide open tip of her nipples, protruded two of those very tentacles that massaged her body under her hide, wiggling as if saluting Heather. She had no arms, her shoulders ending in clean, round stumps, but the red-haired pixie was still as cheery as she remembered.

“I didn’t know what I was doing here. Now I know”

“As I said, very quickly. It took some of us four or five times to recognize and remember this place”

As if their bellies hadn’t exploded in her last dream, the rest of the captured woman were happily looking at her and contorting their planted bodies in some kind of salute. None of them spoke, though; they seemed content to let Nesta do the talking.

“Why are you different from the last time?”

“Our host likes to entertain us with His memories of His planet of origin. He finds funny how we enjoy different forms of sex so He pits us against the most creative life forms He remembers or imagines”

“Very considerate from him” she said derisively “I assume he is a male the way you keep talking about it”

“It’s easier that way. You cannot fit Him in any of our categories” Nesta began “And yes, despite your sarcasm, He is very considerate, in His particular way, of course”

“You call eviscerating us and using our wombs as surrogates considerate? Last time I saw all of you, you were exploding like firecrackers with some kind of alien plant offspring!”

“Fun times!” Nesta laughed “In time you too will consider pain and pleasure one and the same. Like we have learned to do”

“And the whole surrogate thing? Do you not miss having the freedom to do with your life as you want?”

“Has it served you for something?” Nesta retorted “All of us were miners doomed to repeat a tedious process again and again so that some filthy bastards could become rich with our efforts” she explained, her body contorting as the tentacles squeezed her mammary glands directly from the inside “What takes you here, Heather? Was your life worth something? I guess not, or you would have not risked it for something as bizarre as this”

Heather was forced to shut her mouth before that argument. It was true that she was one of those filthy bastards that had profiteered with the sweat of others, and that she could do whatever she fancied whenever she wanted. But was that true freedom? In the shadows of the night, she had wondered more than once if attaining complete dominance over everything was all that mattered in life. Finding love, which filled the lives of so many people, had been out of the question since the beginning, and lately money didn’t have the same attractive that it once had had.

Maybe, in a corner of her mind, she wanted all that meaningless pursuit of power for the sake of power to end. Maybe her capture had been an unconscious slip by her part.

“I see by your lack of response that I have hit the mark. Doesn’t matter anyway, you are now one of us whether you want or not, so you might as well enjoy the ride” she smiled.

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Oh, I really do, His imagination is endless. He has travelled the distances between the stars for eons without count, meeting and absorbing many different life forms along the way. Whatever He doesn’t have seen, He will create for us”

“Including messy forms of torture?” Heather spat

“That was kind of an accident, in fact. He began with the most classic ways of pleasuring a woman, but for Sherry back there, vanilla play got old very quickly”

A beautiful black skinned woman three places behind Nesta, probably Sherry, winked at her.

“After reading her mind and discovering she liked her games very rough, He ramped the kinkiness up for her. Since we are not really here and we can recover as soon and often as we want, it was not long before some of us decided to give it a try” Nesta continued in a matter of factly tone.

“It hasn’t been two months since he captured all of you. It seems to me an awfully short period of time to get that far as I saw last time” Heather said, distracted by the myriad of wiggling tentacles under Nesta’s skin.

“Only two months? We suspected time passed differently here, but not to that extent…” Nesta whispered “Anyways, it’s true that it escalated quickly. We see it as a game, teasing Him to see where our limits are and how far He will go to surpass them. As He has no sense of morality whatsoever and we have grown fond of pleasure spiced with pain, this is making for very fun experiments”

“Why? Does he really have to go to such lengths to entertain all of you?” Heather said, puzzled about that odd behavior.

“He really wants to” she explained “You know, we are the first life forms who He has been able to share thoughts at such a high level. In all His travels, we are the first organisms that have come so close to His level of intellect. And space can be so lonely…”

“Through us He has learned about companionship, and love” another black haired girl behind Nesta continued “it is a concept so strange, yet so endearing to Him, that He likes to consider us His wives. Isn’t it cute?”

“Like a box of puppies” Heather interjected “So you are saying that a creature that travels the endless void of space, somehow absorbing and integrating into himself every life form that crosses its path, intelligent enough to communicate with humans and create mental landscapes for them, has fallen in love with a team of female miners just because?” she finished in disbelief.

“It’s a good summary, I suppose”

“It’s bullshit! That worm is messing with your brains! What about the males, or the clones?”

“He doesn’t need unfertile specimens. The man that He found just before you was sampled to get his DNA and reproductive traits. Now that He knows how our genetic makeup works, He can create His own hybrid children with us”

“You are pregnant?”

“Yes! Isn’t it wonderful? As soon as He finishes preparing your body, you will be too!” she paused “Oh, here it comes, girls!”

A tremor shook the ground, throwing Heather out of balance. The bodies of the women began thrashing wildly, and their skins began to bubble as if they were boiling from the inside. Suddenly, the wild tentacle lattice moving inside each of the females expanded all at once, ripping their hides clean from their bodies in a swift movement.

The girls, all red muscle, white cartilage and yellow fat, convulsed and screamed in agony and ecstasy while thousands of thin tendrils grew from every nook and cranny of their skinless bodies, shooting towards the sky and showering Heather in a mixture of gory chunks.

The last thing Heather saw was Nesta, her skinned head thrown backwards and vomiting a veritable cascade of rising tendrils from her smiling mouth. Then, everything went dark again.


Chapter 4

Helen opened her eyes again to a very nice tingling coming from her loins; the tentacles were still manipulating her clit and had made further changes. However, that was not the most important thing in her mind at that point, this time she remembered everything about her dream, if it was a dream at all, which she doubted very much. It seemed that the process that scrambled their brains until they were unreadable by human technology somehow gave them access to the mind of the worm. She supposed that her assimilation wasn’t advanced enough to let her enter that mental landscape at will, only transporting her there when she fell unconscious.

Were her captive colleagues still there suffering another of the worm’s mental exercises in depravity? Or had they woken up like her to their lonely liquid chamber, to contemplate for hours how the worm toyed with their bodies? Hopefully, they had reached a state where they could transition from one level of consciousness to another at will.

Not so long ago, she had wished for something, no matter how painful, to alleviate the tedium of her forced immobility, so she imagined that maybe those women had gone through the same stages as her and that hellish alien landscape had been deemed a better alternative than that lonely half darkness where she floated now.

Did the worm know about the reading devices implanted in her brain? That question was important at the light of the recent developments. Maybe the recording of those dreams was helping the scientists to decode the strange thought patterns that so puzzled them. She decided not to tell the captured women yet, maybe the worm had ways to read that information from her brain, maybe not, but she would not force the situation.

In the unspecified time that had passed while she was with them, new changes had happened to her body. Leaving her tingling clit for the last, she resolved to be methodical. Starting from the top, Heather confirmed that her boobs were even bigger if that was possible, itched like madly and their skin rippled faintly in some places. What was happening inside them? The hardened convict feared the answer to that question.

Her spread intestines, which had completely unraveled by now, were attached to the inner surface of the cocoon in multiple places thanks to strange warts from the tentacle making holes through the tissue in all its length. It was strange seeing how the new decoration of the sac wall was made of the organs coming from her own body. The loose flaps of connective tissue that had previously kept her intestines together floated in ragged tatters clinging to the fleshy tubes.

The new arrangement of her innards let her see with clarity the sorry state her belly was in. Now that the intestines were out of the way, the rest of her organs like the stomach, liver, or pancreas were slowly floating away from their appropriate places. Without severing tendons and blood vessels they would remain still attached to her, but it was creepy nonetheless. Summarizing, she was well and truly gutted, and her emptied abdomen now could have hold a baby with ease.

Without her intestines on the way, if she forced her head down a bit, she could see how the kidneys had been pierced from her back, confirming the reason for that agonizing pain the first period she had been awake inside the chamber. Now, the deep red beans were colonized by dozens of tendrils, making them seem withered, like prunes.

Her bladder hadn’t changed at all since the last time. The inflated balloon was still full to the brim with some kind of liquid, and she still had the overwhelming, agonizing need to pee. However, stuffed as it was, her sphincter didn’t respond to her commands so she just ignored it again.

All the time she had passed inside with her holes so stretched was accustoming her to the sensations. She didn’t even notice her overstretched jaw and full mouth anymore. Her asshole and urethra, filled to capacity and beyond, registered just as a painful, albeit endurable, fullness. It was true that the body desensitized to stimulation if the input was constant, no matter how strong the pain might be.

Her clitoris, the source of the delicious tingling that had awakened her, had also been further modified as she suspected. Apart from the manipulator tentacles giving it a relaxing massage, an injector tentacle spearing all its length from the very top had been pumping something inside her abused organ. Now, the main branch had swelled to resemble a bright red penis, and it kept growing, increasing the pressure and the heightened sensations proportionally. She was very close to another thunderous orgasm, but she feared closing her eyes to savor it because of the last thing that called for her attention.

What was worrying Heather the most was her poor prolapsed uterus. When she had fallen asleep, it had resembled a fleshy tube, now it was a reddish sphere the size of a soccer ball. The cervix, like her intestines, had attached itself to the inner wall of the cocoon, and she could have sworn that the temperature she felt in that area was somehow cooler than the one she enjoyed inside. It probably meant that the meaty ring of her cervix was finally decorating the side of the alien.

Two smaller bulges could be seen at both sides of the uterine ball. From the walls, yet another pair of tentacles massaged and pinched them for God knew what purpose, sending jolts up her spine with each squeeze. If her anatomy classes back in high school had served her for something, those bulges were probably her ovaries, although they shouldn’t have been big enough to make an impression through the powerful musculature of her vagina, reversed to make the outer layer of her prolapsed organ. More alien tinkering, for sure.

So, what Nesta had said was true, she was probably pregnant with some kind of mutant hybrid offspring. What was really incubating inside her uterus? Maybe an egg? A small version of the worm? An unholy spawn of human and alien? She was moderately sure she would never know the truth unless the pregnancy was allowed to come to term and she was freed somehow.

In the meantime, the itching in her boobs had come into a crescendo, and was now making Heather beg for her arms again to scratch it. Her teats heaved with the movement of whatever was inside but, this time, the worm somehow responded to her request. From behind her, many smooth tentacles emerged, encircled the fatty bags and began a rhythmic massage of her aching teats, as if they were milking them.
Again and again, a tentacle would coil itself around the base of one breast and, after tightening its grip, would move slowly towards the tip where it would uncoil and return back for another stretch.

Thanks to that methodical procedure, incredible pressure was mounting just behind her nipples, small solid lumps that expanded their milk ducts as they were pushed outside. Whatever those lumps were, they were fighting to exit through holes painfully small for them. With each cycle of pretend milking, more and more things joined the queue, until the flesh behind the areola was full of small moving bumps.

The signals coming from her sensitive boobs were, like usual, an unhealthy mixture of pain and pleasure, combining the pressure relief by the milking tentacles and the stinging pain that so resembled needle play.

If that wasn’t enough, down her cunt her clitoris was now suffering a similar treatment. The injector tentacle kept pumping something inside, but the manipulator tentacles had gripped the base with crushing strength, squeezing with fierce intent until she felt her poor clit was going to burst at any moment. It had gotten to a point where the blinding sensations coming from her abused sexual organs that filled her sight with stars couldn’t be classified as torture anymore. It had surpassed any definition of torture, breaking the ceiling of the dimension of pain and going full circle into what could only be called transcendent pleasure.

With the last squeeze of the breast tentacles, small white dots like zits had appeared at every puncture wound of her nipples, and she understood at last what was happening inside her breasts. The squid symbionts had injected her tits with their eggs and sperm, turning her mammary glands and ducts into a nursery for their children. Children which had finally matured and were ready to be born.

Little by little, the small albino creatures pushed and wormed their way out her nipples, enlarging the tiny holes a little bit with each new push, aided by the thrust of their siblings behind them and the power of the tentacles steamrolling her increasingly floppy teats.

Her clit was now the size of a small lemon and the tentacles down there kept going. Each moment Heather though that the feeling was unbearable and she would fall unconscious, the tentacles increased the pressure and her pain one more notch and she discovered she could still endure more. No wonder the miner girls had turned into such extreme forms of mental entertainment so fast, the limiters of her brain seemed to have been removed, and it was becoming quickly addictive.

Then, without prior warning, the tissues of her clit could resist no more and the whole organ split through the middle, almost making her lose her mind. She had shut her eyes hard to try to isolate the incredible feeling of her exploding clit but, in the brief moment when she had seen her pleasure nub tear, she had been reminded of that time when she had tried to cook a sausage in a microwave stolen from a museum. It was an archeological relic that had piqued her interest, so she ordered a heist and had the thieves transport the antique, but working, appliance to her house.

When she had tried the processed food inside the machine to see how it worked, the meat tube had torn itself in a very similar way to her poor clit.

The sudden release of all the accumulated pressure when her clit popped had triggered another massive orgasm similar to when she had been gutted, and the pleasure spasms coursing through her mangled body prompted the first batch of squids to finally achieve their goal and squeeze like toothpaste from her nipples full of holes.

It was too much to process. Apparently, each inch of the new exposed surface of her open clitoris was as sensitive as the whole organ. The manipulator tentacles rubbing the flesh petals of her clit gave her an orgasm if they so much as lightly rubbed it, and the squids kept coming from inside her breasts, widening the exits even more with each passage until her darkened nipples were more hole than skin.

As if to cap that transformation orgy, two tentacles armed with razor sharp blades made two precise cuts on top of the bumps that marked the location of her ovaries. The cuts widened under the pressure of her enlarged twin gonads and, soon, a pair of yellowish oversized eggs popped from the split flesh to decorate the sides of her uterine bulge.

The freshly released squids, dozens of them already with more coming, swam around her watery prison, stopping at all the places where dead skin, muscle or connective tissue dangled, fulfilling their duty of leaving her cocoon spotless.

Amazingly tired after those last stages of her increasingly bizarre transformations, Heather saw lazily how, as soon as they finished their work, the squids returned promptly to her breast, now their nest and, again, dived inside mouth first to deposit their own batch of eggs and sperm that would spawn the next generation of cocoon cleaners. Their purpose fulfilled, the short lived creatures died promptly and sank to the bottom of the sac to be consumed by the worm for nutrients. Nothing was wasted inside her small ecosystem, it seemed.

Unable to keep her eyes open for another second thanks to the brutal torture and mind bending pleasure, she drifted again to sleep.
“Hello Heather”

Heather opened her eyes to the now familiar alien landscape. Nesta, who had greeted her once again, wasn’t trapped into any bizarre alien organic contraption, as none of the rest of the naked girls who waited behind her with respectful patience were.

“This time there is no creative form of torture?”

“We wanted to greet you properly into our small family. This is a special occasion after all!” she smiled happily.

“Special in what way?”

“Your neural link is now complete. Which means His mind is as open to you as it is to us”

“Really, and what does that mean?”

“It means that you can talk to him directly, and ask for anything, or make your own changes as you wish. Kind of virtual reality, but much better”

“Will I wake up again inside the cocoon?” Heather asked, unsure if she would ever want to do that.

“As often and for as long as you desire” Nesta explained “Some of us like feeling our breast squids’ birth. Others like to enjoy an orgasm with their real bodies from time to time. I like to see how my child grows inside my uterus”

“How does your real body look now?”

“Want to see?”

“Can I?”

“Of course, I can project here a mental image of myself for you to admire” she chimed “But I didn’t think you were the curious type”

“I’m going with the flow, if you like that expression. I have lost the will to resist” Heather said lowering her head in defeat at long last.

As she said those words Heather had understood how true they were. Rescue didn’t look like an option right now, and she was learning to enjoy her defenselessness. The thought of surrendering her body and submitting her soul to the worm filled her with a true sense of purpose for the first time in her life. Maybe it was love, maybe it was enhanced Stockholm syndrome, more likely it was the worm tinkering with her brain. It didn’t matter anymore.

The redhead nodded knowingly and made a gesture with her hand. From the purple organic soil, a transparent cocoon emerged, containing the image of the real body of Nesta inside her own chamber.

All her transformations had been taken in the redhead to their logical extreme. The ex-miner’s womb, now the size of a beach ball, was partly outside the cocoon, the cervical ring twitching, anxious to drop its cargo to the world as soon as it was ready. The twin yellow ovaries at its sides had reached the size of softball balls; grown to those ridiculous proportions thanks to multiple tendrils feeding them God knew what kind of chemicals from the walls of the sac.

Her clit was more or less like her own had become except much larger, having completely opened itself in two through the middle line and laying spread like a tongue. Her urethra was similarly speared, only the girth of the tentacle now rivaled a horse cock and her bladder was even more inflated if that was even possible.

Her intestines existed no longer; the tentacle that traversed her digestive tract had grown so much that it had tore open the useless organ which then would have been picked clean by the omnipresent albino squids. Her liver, pancreas and stomach had been similarly consumed, leaving the abdominal cavity completely clean, with only the hint of the spinal cord and the pruned kidneys. The main anchoring tentacle now penetrated her ass, left through her empty belly to line the walls of the chamber and then went back again, into her chest.

Right there appeared a new development. Nesta’s ribcage had been also split open through the middle, her sternum cleanly broken and her ribs having been forced apart. Now, her lungs and heart were fused with tentacles in a pulsating indistinguishable mass that overflowed from her chest cavity. Her tits, elongated like water gourds, floated limply at her sides, the nipples transformed into lumpy tumors full of holes in a honeycomb pattern, from where squid symbionts entered or exited their mammary nest.

Nesta’s face was now completely covered by the combination of the overgrown flowery tip of that original tentacle and the filaments that protruded from her nostrils and also ears, creating a strange fleshy helmet over her head that only left her emerald eyes and patches of red hair visible.

From the raw stumps of her legs and arms, even more tendrils emerged, anchoring her body to the walls of her final resting place in more points, surely increasing the flow of substances between the captive and the worm.

“Does it ever stop changing?” said Heather, touching tenderly the soft skin of the cocoon and rubbing the doughnut sized cervix that protruded outside.

“In the end only the brain and reproductive organs will remain. It’s not like we need anything else now”

“I see” Heather replied calmly. It made sense, somehow.

Nesta dismissed her self-image with another gesture, prompting the imagined cocoon to sink again in the ground and then, like if privy of a private joke, she smiled beatifically. The rest of the woman mimicked her, and Heather felt a sudden clarity of mind that she had never imagined could be possible.

She had been fully welcomed into the worm’s mental network with the rest of the women at last; and with that final act came the understanding that her past held no meaning to all of them. Her crimes had been forgiven and forgotten, as they meant nothing to Him, and a load she didn’t even know she was carrying anymore was lifted from her. No secrets mattered, no sins, no guilt, just peace and bliss.

Even the reading devices implanted in her brain, the worm had knew from the beginning and didn’t care a single iota. He had planted His own “spy” between the ranks of the researchers as well, letting them extract one of His precious brides with a cargo of mind control symbionts inside her breasts, identical in shape to the cleaner squids, although designed with a different purpose. All it had required was just a careless technician to begin the infestation chain, and soon after Heather had been captured by Him, the last member of the rescue team had been silently infected.

Heather herself had been an unexpected, but welcomed, addition to His harem, but He still had room inside His body for many more women. With each new acquisition, His knowledge of the human race that so fascinated Him increased, allowing Him to refine His tactics when approaching new specimens. Heather’s extensive knowledge of the criminal underworld would serve Him well to gather assets, deliver parasites in secret and eliminate obstacles in His plans.

His ultimate purpose in Sol system, after having discovered the fascinating human race, was to reach Earth. The preemptive strike by the human military had slowed His plans, but not stopped them. Once He recovered His poor lost wife, He would use the enslaved scientists to travel to Earth undetected and, once there, He would sample all the life forms of the planet and learn the rest of the accumulated knowledge of humanity.

Meanwhile, He would complete His collection of wives with select specimens, and would make them spawn hybrid children that would help enlighten the earthlings into the ways of the universe, improving as well all the local ecosystems. When His work was finished, His powerful mind, which worked in dimensions unreachable to humans, would lock onto the gravitational string pulling from the next candidate star.

The graviton flux generated by the mass could be harnessed as a sort of cable between celestial bodies from where to pull and use as means of propulsion. It was a slow form of travel but He was immortal and time held no meaning for Him. His interminable voyage would therefore continue, meeting new and exciting organisms, or seeding life in barren worlds where evolution had not taken hold yet with the help of His new brides.

With their modified reproductive tracts, Heather and the rest of the women would become soon veritable cradles of life, able to spawn any of the species whose genetic material (of wildly different types) He had stored in His system, and there were billions upon billions of those. By far, human females were the most efficient borrowed organisms He had ever found for that purpose, and Heather shuddered in wicked delight with the prospect of giving birth to some of the specimens she had seen ravaging her sisters before.

All that knowledge had flowed into Heather’s mind in the space between one breath and the next. Now, she knew His plan, as well as her purpose in it. The notion of her whole body being reduced to a breeding organ didn’t repulse her like it would have done not so long ago, it was just proper. At the same time she realized that simple fact, a familiar presence made itself known under their feet.

The elastic ground began trembling and all the expectant women moved respectfully out of the way, parting in two groups at both sides of Heather, leaving a huge patch of empty ground in front of their newest sister.

Like a sphincter opening, an enormous hole four meters across parted the fleshy soil ahead of them, and the familiar head of the worm, looking exactly how she had seen Him in the beginning, emerged in all His glorious size.

Meter after meter of alien worm slithered out of the hole and coiled before His assembled harem, with Heather occupying the center place of honor. The head of the alien, resembling a tightly packed bud, towered above her, an imposing presence that now elicited reverence and awe, not fear and desperation. Opening the pinkish petals in their entire splendor, He extended a small tentacle from His cavernous mouth to cup Heather’s cheek, and she knew without any shadow of doubt that He loved her.

Heather and her eleven (for now) sisters would remain inside Him. Their bodies would become organs for Him to use as He needed. Their minds would entertain themselves trying new and exciting forms of stimulation, surpassing the limits of pleasure and pain again and again, testing His unlimited imagination. Forever.


1. Epilogue

“Yes sir, the creature suddenly attacked us, forcing the detachment of marines to retaliate with extreme prejudice”

“How much is left?”

“Only the samples we took initially. It’s going to take some time to recover the rests of the body; your soldiers are very thorough”

“I will send some support teams right away”

“I don’t recommend it. I suggest enforcing contamination protocol omega for now, we are not sure if any of the remains of the creature represent any danger, and they are splattered everywhere”

“Very well, we will make all the area go dark. For the next quarantine period, you’ll be on your own, is that ok?”

“We have the situation under control here, but better safe than sorry”

“I can agree with that. Meanwhile, my colleagues and I will be very busy reading the incredible report you have sent. Poor women, it’s a very grisly end. At least that Heather Nem scum got what she deserved, but the miners were innocent”

“Nothing that can be done, unfortunately. As you know, when we first arrived here the standard backup relay had been corrupted by some kind of focused quantum pulse”

“It’s a shame quality backups are so expensive these days: I will speak to the council to see if we can implement a charity plan for those without enough income. Good work anyways, Doctor. UNESF out”

Inside her test tube, Alisson smiled knowingly. The scientists and soldiers, all of them with a strange tiny white slug attached discreetly to the base of their craniums, were busy preparing the cart to move her eviscerated body where He awaited. Soon, she would again join her sisters and then, the helpful enslaved men would transport Him to Earth in secret.

Everything was happening as He had predicted so she drifted to sleep, her body trembling with perverse desire, waiting for the time when He would reclaim her body again.

And now, we begin another stage in Heather's life. What follows are short segments depicting different moments after the main story explaining some loose threads that were left dangling. The number of appendices is not definitive, so they could potentially span longer than the main story. A warning for those who are not into scat, this first appendix contains lots and lots of it from the second half onwards (the first half deals with storytelling, so it's safe until that point). Enjoy.

3. Appendix 1

How long it had been since they had arrived at this new planet? Years? Decades? Centuries? Time had acquired an unnatural quality inside His mind. If she had wanted to, Heather could have accessed her memories like an index and make a good estimation. In the mental network, things like that were quite easy. It just didn’t seem worthwhile; she was going to spend the rest of the life of the universe inside Him (maybe more, if what He was learning about black holes and gates to other universes proved helpful), a million years up or down might have been a second for all that it mattered.

Since they had left Earth so long ago, riding an asteroid like He was used to do, they had set course to the nearest planetary system with the potential for life. The knowledge He had gathered from humanity, including the location of candidate stars, was almost as advanced as His own, albeit in very different fields. He was very surprised that it had complemented so well His own understanding of the universe.

Even with Him warping the space around the asteroid ever so slightly to increase its relative speed, almost like treating the fabric of reality like a waterslide, the travel to the nearest planet, named by humans Wolf 1061c, had taken several centuries. In all that time, He and His brides had remained mostly in cryostasis to save as much energy as possible. Meaning that Heather and the rest of the girls had spent that time asleep, frozen solid inside their cocoons.

Once He had arrived at the Wolf system, the light of the star had fully reawakened Him as well as His brides. From there, with just a few adjustments of trajectory, He had crashed alongside the asteroid in the largest body of water of the destination planet He had been able to detect. After confirming that life hadn’t had appeared yet, He had put His brides to work terraforming the planet as per His wishes for it.

Since then, all the women had been constantly giving birth to all kind of life forms to populate the celestial body, making them feel like Eves in paradise. Inside of their cocoons, all of them had reached their final form, all their useless organic matter recycled to feed Him in His long voyage. Now, of Heather’s head, only the top half of her skull remained, housing her brain and eyes (a special petition of His brides, to be always able to see their magnificent new forms). Her spine connected that brain with the sacs of her hive breasts (that had detached from her chest and closed in the shape of oversized grapes) and her bloated uterus, which now occupied almost the whole available space. Long ago, all her remaining pleasure organs (the only organs that mattered then) had been enhanced and reattached to her teats and womb, which made pregnancies and deliveries an orgasmic experience every time. The rest of her chamber was filled to the brim with the tentacles, appendages and modified innards that provided her with life support.

Heather’s mind returned often to her real body to feel her children growing inside her, or the powerful contractions of labor when delivering each new specimen, be it egg, spore, protoplasm, fungus, animal or vegetable. That was more like His usual way of working, seeding life where life wasn’t present or absorbing it into His own where it was.
The things that had happened back in Sol system were an abnormality of His modus operandi. Humans were the first species that He could interact with almost as equals, and that had made a profound impact in a creature which previously though Himself unique in the universe. For that gift, the gift of true companionship, He had repaid humans a million fold.

Aided by the advice of His brides and their new points of view, He had decided not to make Himself obvious and overtly transform everything as He had done in the past. Keeping different ways of doing things and living life would yield more results in the very long term than enforced uniformity.

That didn’t mean some changes couldn’t be made. On His brief stay on Earth, apart from gathering the planet’s complete gene pool and learning history and science, He had imparted many researchers with His knowledge about the finer workings of the universe and its multiple dimensions, as well as exo-biology, meta-materials, space travel and mental storage.

He also had released swarms of undetectable viruses that would improve the human gene pool in ways never imagined so, when all was said and done, in a few decades after His departure, humans would have made an evolutionary leap unheard of before.
In the end, He had arrived to Earth in secret and left in secret, and His stay had enriched both Him and humanity in ways that would probably shape the fate of the universe for eons to come. Her own hybrid daughter, Dawn, alongside the daughters and sons of the rest of the brides, had been left behind to ensure it.

During her years long pregnancy both parents had talked with the child while she slept peacefully in her womb, preparing the mutant girl for her important duties after being finally born. When Dawn, with the body of a teenager and the mind of an elder, had finally forced her way out of her birth chamber, her hands spreading Heather’s cervix apart painfully to make room, the suffering mother had felt for the first time a little bit of the solitude her Husband had felt in space. Maybe someday in the far distant future she would meet her offspring again, or so she hoped fervently.

Until the time of that reunion came, though, one of the most mundane results of that whole cultural exchange was that typical Earth landscapes now could be accessed and incorporated at will into any mental simulation, and every life form back in her home planet could be replicated and spliced with the rest of the genetic patterns stored, both virtually and in the material realm. Thus, the variety of specimens to interact with and combine had increased exponentially, as well as their relative intelligence and predisposition to interact in sexy ways with His brides.

As He incorporated more and more of human idiosyncrasy into His own, the main hub of His mind had also changed accordingly. Where before only purplish organic things grew, now some of the most marvelous forms of earthling architecture dotted the horizon in ways that only the best conceptual artists could have imagined, making for an exceedingly beautiful integration of flesh and buildings.

That didn’t mean the harem members hadn’t devised a myriad of landscapes of their own. After having given birth to clumps of fungal spores in enough quantity to fill an island, Heather’s mood had shifted a bit towards the dirty side. Now, she was wading through what everyone had gotten to call the Shitty Swamp of Slithery Slugs, “Four S” for short.

If anyone had asked her before being absorbed, she would have never included scat into her list of favorite fetishes. However, Lorna, one of the brides recruited on Earth, was heavily into all the human toilet business. The inevitable consequence was that now every last bride had tried and acquired that fetish too.

Four S was a wondrous place created in a communal effort by all of them. Heather was half walking, half swimming into a shallow lake of human feces with the color of chocolate and the consistence of pudding. The swamp was dotted with islands made of solid giant turds from where prolapsed rectums, ranging from human to elephant sized, emerged like anemones, discharging continuous tubes of shit or showers of diarrhea, vomit, semen and other alien fluids into the sludge she was wading. Lorna could be found there frequently, her mouth swallowing the largest rectum she could accommodate, using her shit bloated body as a filter in a continuous machine of swallowing and defecating.

The swamp was also alive with all kind of maggots, worms, slugs and snakes, in tribute to their Husband, which made traversing it an experience not for the squeamish (by that point, none of them were). All those creatures were milky white in color, so as to not lose sight of them in the sea of feces and enjoy their sight as well as their touch. Heather’s body was now completely covered from head to toe in layers upon layers of brown animal waste in different stages of putrefaction. Under the shit, her skin was completely infested by white maggots that festered happily in ulcers and abscesses.

Albino worms had made their home inside her organs and now bored tunnels in her flesh, entering and leaving her body from multiples holes. Her eye sockets and mouth cavity in particular had become a comfortable space for the longest of species and now she seemed to be dripping hyperactive spaghettis from between her closed eyelids, nostrils and lips. Having lost the sight didn’t matter much, the swamp was as big as it needed to be at any time, and getting lost was no concern for her. She could have kept walking between the muck for eternity and never reach the end, and then turn around and exit the place if she so wished.

The foul smell was overpowering and intoxicating, and the incredibly bitter taste flooded her mouth whenever she took a spoonful with her hands and chewed it with gusto, mixing well with the ichors dripping from the parasites as they were squashed between her teeth into paste. Scratching her itching skin and worming her fingers in the dozens of open pustules was also a delight for the wicked woman, carving new wounds for more bugs to live in.

If she could have seen her cunt, she would have marveled at how the lips rotted under the ministrations of the maggots, or how the walls of her vagina massaged fat albino snakes as they entered and exited her shit filled uterus. Also, the inside of her clit was now the house of an alien breed of spiky slug that had bored through her pelvis and hollowed the pleasure organ to make its nest. When she rubbed it, she could feel the sting of the spikes protruding from the still highly sensitive nub.

In all the time she had spent inside Him, she always found the most pleasure in transforming her body into a living nest for every kind of creature. Like her Husband, being host to multiple different forms of life filled her with a warm fuzzy feeling, and made her feel closer to Him.

As she didn’t need to breathe if she didn’t want to, she dove under the semisolid mess and swallowed and inhaled shit as hard as she could until the waste filled every empty space inside her and overflowed from every orifice of her body. Sinking under the murky surface like a stone, Heather’s body convulsed in earth shaking orgasms while becoming a rotten human composter, a fertile living corpse.

After an unspecified amount of time, which could have easily lasted months, she rose from the swamp, her shit saturated body in an advanced state of decay, dripping maggots from literally every inch of skin. Heather, her infinite lust satiated for the time being, pondered what to do next while scooping the worms from inside her eye sockets and letting her ocular globes grow anew.

Suddenly she smiled happily, her dilemma solved. Her Husband just had whispered her that the nursery had concocted a very interesting entertainment since the last time she had been with them.

Maybe it was time for a quick visit.

4. Appendix 2

Of all the women who had been abducted to complete His harem, the children had produced the most unexpected results. He had made accommodations inside His body to host sixty four women but He had wanted a sample of different ages and cultures to enrich his knowledge. Therefore, except for the women too old and jaded to be of reproductive or intellectual use, the group of brides was made of women from ages forty at their oldest to six at their youngest.

The subset of twelve girls ranging from six to eight years old was collectively known as the nursery and having been abducted at such an early age had created very interesting changes in their psyche.

Being exposed to the most extreme unfiltered depravity at such young ages without the moral corsets imposed by society and the need to grow mentally to be prepared for adult life, they had become perpetual children, and no effort by the older brides had made them mature (to Him, there was really no difference, so He didn’t made any effort to correct that). Therefore, it was strange for them to change age or sex as the older ladies usually did, aging or deaging to fulfill different fantasies, and spent most of their time in their original mental bodies.

In the end, however, they were the part of the collective whose imagination was the most active, and their capability of marveling at every new and interesting thing was a welcomed addition to the more experienced women.

Heather walked the rainbow land where they usually gathered, feeling the springy fresh grass soothe the soles of her feet. It was a place of fantasy, of floating islands, lush green hills, multicolored skies and fairies everywhere, created for children by children. Pretty innocuous on the surface but, as the fetishes and deviations of the rest of the brides had permeated into their undeveloped and pliable minds, hiding very nasty things under the surface.

A beautiful unicorn galloped past her and she giggled at the image it presented. The magnificent white stallion, almost twice the size of the biggest horse ever seen on earth, with a golden horn that could have speared her whole body from cunt to mouth, sported an erection that rivaled a native earthling elephant’s.

Impaled on that massive cock was one of the littlest girls of the bunch, Sandra, who was six years old when she had been brought by the enslaved scientists to Him. She had had one of the roughest times while being assimilated, as her extremely sheltered education had not fully prepared her to endure such agony for so long. However, He had wanted to try His hand on every kind of female available, and no bride would have ever thought denying His will.

The result had been that her mind had been further warped than usual, making her into the most masochistic girl of the nursery bunch. Once she had discovered how pain could bring pleasure, she had recovered her previous cheery attitude, and the contrast between the extremes she would go to satiate her deviant needs, and the happiness she would exude while doing so, made Sandra a favorite pastime for many older brides, who enjoyed torturing her in creative ways.

Right now, her body was engulfing the monster cock of the white unicorn, which turned around and stopped in front of Heather, rearing his hind legs in prideful salute.
Sandra had been a petite black haired girl before being assimilated. Now, her already lithe body seemed to have acquired the consistence of rubber, tightly wrapped around the horse’s massive shaft, thick like a barrel. Since her limbs were useless in that position, she had imagined them out, which had left her body reduced to a seamless torso, translucent from being so stretched. The flat head of the stallion’s cock protruded a meter from Sandra’s mouth, whose jaw had expanded to sit flush with her body and neck, resembling a tubular flesh condom more than the little girl she was.

As she approached the waiting unicorn Heather noticed how the thrusting movements of the stallion’s cock as he had been galloping had left Sandra’s body trembling around it in the aftermaths of a massive, continuous orgasm.

“Dismount me, Heather, please”

Heather heard Sandra’s voice inside her mind. She could have just wished the horse away and be done with it, but a certain etiquette had been established between the women. It was considered the rudest thing to mess with the creations of other brides without their consent, as a certain amount of organization was needed if they didn’t want His mind to become a battlefield of conflicting fantasies, fetishes or, may He forbid it, internecine fights amongst them. They all loved each other with the fiercest passion, but eternity was a long time even for the tiniest of disagreements.

In order to help Heather, Sandra regrew her arms instantly and the older bride took hold of them, anchoring her feet to the ground and slowly dislodging the human wrapper from the horse cock. The child slid out with difficulty, making a wet slurping sound that renewed Heather’s arousal. Maybe she would ask Sandra later to borrow one of the stallions of her herd for a ride.

The rubberlike consistence of Sandra’s body allowed the little girl to regain her normal shape at the same time she was being extricated from the titanic penis that speared her. As soon as the cock reached her mouth, the tiny girl’s tongue could be seen lapping the flared head while it retreated back her throat, her obscenely open mouth returning to its original size following behind.

Gurgling as the tubular invader stimulated her throat with its reverse motion, the girl formed a smile with her strawberry lips, making Heather smile as well at the depravity of her little sister bride. The unicorn, maybe bored with that slow game, or maybe at the prompt of Sandra, began retreating from the spot. The combined opposing forces of the white stallion backing and Heather tugging finally allowed Sandra to fall to the ground with a wet plop.

“Wow, I lost count of the orgasms riding this beauty!” the dark haired child began, rubbing her oversized snatch, which was slowly returning to normal.

“I bet you did. What have you done with your internal organs, by the way?” Heather said, looking suspiciously at her torso.

“They were in the way. I still can’t explain why you gals keep them” she said, genuinely puzzled.

“Old habits die hard” the experienced woman answered “although I have been inside here tens of times longer than outside, I guess. Maybe it’s because I love the way my hips and ribs break when I try the sort of things you just did”

“That has also its own appeal. I suppose”

“Well, having more organs also means having more things to play with, don’t you think? Can I try?” Heather asked, looking at how the legless girl was fist fucking her cunt up to the elbow.

“Be my guest” Sandra smiled.

While she kneeled in front of the girl and began rubbing her undeveloped (by her choice) vagina, Heather marveled at how the girls at the nursery mixed seamlessly the vocabulary and knowledge of full adults and the behavior and manners of little girls. It was one of the most perplexing results of their extremely bizarre upbringing.

Without further ado, Heather formed a fist and shoved hard against the preteen’s cunt. Meeting no resistance, she plunged her arm straight to Sandra´s ribcage and prompted another orgasm from the tired child. The tiny wife, seemingly content to be just a rag doll, just slumped against Heather’s body while moaning deliriously.

Having had her vagina stretched until it connected seamlessly with her throat had been a neat trick by the imaginative girl, or so Heather thought. The perverse woman took advantage of her longer arms and kept feeding Sandra’s insatiable cunt with her limb until she could feel the little girl’s uvula with her fingers. As if to taunt her, Sandra opened her mouth and let Heather see how her hand had reached her oral cavity.

Amused, Heather kissed Sandra while playing with her tongue from the inside. It made for a really strange French kiss, their tongues battling against Heather’s hand. Nonetheless, it was pleasurable and, for all the inhabitants of the worm, that was the most important pursuit.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the white unicorn grew tired of their antics and fled to search for pastures to eat, or maybe another of the girls of the nursery to play with. 

All living beings created in His mental landscape retained entity and will for as long as the brides or Him desired. For some of the nastiest creations, they had let them free reins to “hunt” for sport and do whatever their constructed biological instincts asked them. It was somewhat thrilling never knowing when and how one of those beasts would assault you, and that kept kinks fresh for longer.

However, that was not the reason Heather had come to the fantasy land of the nursery. There was a development incoming that she wanted to witness and, after extracting her soaking wet arm from Sandra’s flesh canal, said exactly that to the girl.

“Oh, you mean Inna and Ilsa? They should be due at any moment. You are right; it would be a crime not to see that. Follow me; we’ll get to their place in no time at all!”

5. Appendix 3

The floating island where the eight years old twins used to spend their time drifted gently in the lush valley that was formed between two imposing peaks. A gigantic tree dominated most of the surface of the small island. From its roots, white streams of dense semen cascaded down and fed the blindingly white lake that was at the center of the valley.

Sandra, a brony at heart, had summoned a magnificent pink Pegasus, which was as well endowed as every member of her herd but for now just limited itself to carry them both to the island. Looking left and right Heather wasn’t surprised to realize that probably every bride had been informed of the big event and was heading there too.
Some brides flew on their own, without beast or wings to carry them.

Others were mounted in flying creatures of the folklore of Earth, like herself and Sandra. She saw a dragon, a griffon and a burning phoenix arriving from the other side of the valley.

Many had resorted to the archive of species He had in store. Alisson, for example, could be seen floating inside what looked like a translucent, giant manta ray. Further north, Megan was restrained, spread eagle, into what looked like a flying cobweb made of vines, making her seem like an oversized kite.

Expanding her conscience a bit, Heather could feel all her sister brides already at the tree or almost there. It was obvious that whatever was going to happen was important enough to warrant the assistance of His entire harem.

Heather made a pretty good guess about the importance of the upcoming event. Everybody had known about the twins’ secret fetish for a long time. Since they had been absorbed by Him as an experiment, their closeness, which was already pretty high to begin with (being twins after all) had steadily increased as time passed. Living inside a mental simulation, where thoughts could be exchanged and shared as easily as just wishing for it, had made both girls progressively indistinguishable from one another so, whatever was what they had planned, it would include that aspect for sure.

“Were you there when they started?” said Heather to the girl riding at her front

“Yes. Both have wanted this for a long time. It was very difficult to convince Him, though, it’s going to mess with the symmetry” Sandra replied, rising her voice to be heard against the rush of air.

“In a way it was predictable. Maybe all of us will do it too in the long time”

“Maybe. If that’s His purpose, I haven’t gotten a single clue from Him”

“He would never force us to become anything we didn’t want. Well, apart from the obvious, of course”

Both brides laughed at unison, the image of what remained of their bodies inside their cocoons always fresh in their minds. However, being mothers to a whole planet full of life (the first of many) was worth any sacrifice.

“Can you show me the beginning?” asked Heather “We are going to land soon, and I want to experience it too”

“Of course” the six years old said, turning around and kissing her full in the mouth.

The scene changed abruptly. Heather was in the island, in front of the oversized oak with all the nursery brides assembled at her sides. The awfully young looking twins were between the tree and the rest of the girls, as naked as everyone else and kissing passionately. After smooching for a while, they turned at her sisters and winked in unison. Then, both identical girls turned around again and went smiling towards their vegetable home, hands joined and humming a cheerful tune.

They stopped just below the lush canopy of the oak, big enough to have four blue whales disappear between the leaves without a trace. The green leaves projected a sparkly light that compensated for the density of the foliage and reduced the casted shadow. Up there, all kind of mutant creatures dwelled which often snatched any incautious woman or girl paying the twins a visit, subjecting them to different kind of treatments, ranging from sexy to murderous.

“We are ready” both Inna and Ilsa said at the same time, looking upwards at the branches with their beautiful platinum manes of hair swaying alongside the gentle breeze.

At the prompt of its masters the foliage began rustling madly and a giant spider-like creature, almost as big as an elephant, appeared between the leaves, descending in a tangle of silk threads until it was almost level with the small girls.

The creature had been designed by the devious twins from scratch just for this occasion. With the help of their beloved Husband, they had combined the genetic information of dozens of species, earthling and alien alike, to give birth to the monstrosity that would grant them their innermost desire. In purity, such a thing wasn’t necessary, and what they had planned could have been carried on by Him alone, instantly and effortlessly. However, He deemed necessary for their mental health to leave His brides a solid anchor in reality by forcing them to carry their wishes through tangible means, even if those means were just projections inside His virtual landscapes.

That abomination by itself was a viable life form which could have been delivered by any of the brides, if He had so allowed. Maybe in a future planet He would do it. For the time being, the creature, back as the blackest night, appeared to be made of a chitinous abdomen segmented in five sections, like a starfish. A cavernous mouth full of razor sharp teeth in the middle of the abdominal array was surrounded by extremely long and dexterous multi-articulated insectile limbs, ending in dagger-like points, sharper than scalpels. From the end of each abdominal section, directional spinners launched very strong threads of silk, able to immobilize any of the brides in a matter of seconds.

The starfish-spider, having been given the order to act, moved as its programmed instincts told it to and, in a lightning fast movement, extended two of his legs and sliced both girls bellies clean, from sternum to vulva. The resemblance to the first processing stages inside their Husband wasn’t lost on any of the witnesses.

Both twins cried aloud in torturous orgasms while their innards splashed loudly in the grass, but they never unlocked their hands or tried to avoid the thin articulated appendages as they quickly gutted them completely, removing every organ from their abdominal cavity with a butcher’s dispassionate efficiency.

Once their bellies had been reduced into a hollow cavity, the aching girls looked at each other and resumed their passionate kissing, their faces streaked by tears and wrinkled by pain. The strange spider was unaffected by that display of sisterly affection, and again launched a pair of its legs, this time stabbing the twin’s cunts and raising them both until they were level with its “mouth”.

The wicked impalement had elicited a shudder of masochistic delight on the twins, replicated by all the child witnesses, which were all masturbating furiously at the spectacle of the razor sharp daggers poking from inside their gutted bellies. Once at the correct height, from inside the cavernous hole that passed as a mouth, an ovipositor appendage was extended, and its end carefully placed on the space between both girls’ emptied abdomens.

Immediately after, the prolapsed ovipositor began to tremble as a spherical shape deformed its length in its wake. After a brief pause a black round egg, maybe a meter in diameter, was ejected outside the appendage in a deluge of foul liquids, nesting comfortably in the gap created between the two disemboweled girls.

Using some free appendages carefully, the spider pushed both kissing girls together, until their hollowed torsos engulfed the egg almost completely. Multiple strands of silk thread began to shoot from the spinners, the dexterous limbs using the threads to further secure the twins together into their unholy embrace.

As they were now supported by a rapidly growing silk mesh, the cunt stabber limbs withdrew in a deluge of blood and Ilsa and Inna, never for an instant separating their glued lips, interlocked their legs and arms into a tight hug that wrapped their nubile bodies around the black sphere.

Thread by thread, both girls and their shared “baby” were slowly cocooned together into a white silk ball which the mutant spider dutifully hanged from a branch. Its work finished, the creature retreated into the deepest fronds of the oak, leaving the sticky ornament swinging with the breeze.

Heather returned to her own body and mind still atop the Pegasus, which had just landed in the border of the island. The whole scene could have lasted half an hour when it first happened, but thanks to the magic of mental sharing, it had only consumed a minute of actual time.

Both brides dismounted from the stallion and headed silently to the tree. The sphere was still there, hanging in the same spot Heather had seen in the borrowed memory. Since that moment, maybe nine months of real time had passed, another “coincidence” that really wasn’t.

The rest of the sixty brides, having dismounted from their respective rides (in different states of composure: Alisson for example was still dripping sticky gel all over the place, and Megan’s skin was an intricate lattice of deep bloody cuts) circled the resting place of the twins, keeping themselves at a respectful distance, waiting for the moment that all their instincts screamed it was but just a minute away.

During all that time hanging, the silk had deteriorated enough that the inside of the cocoon could be seen somewhat clearly. Both girls were still embraced in the same position as Heather had last seen them, their faces locked in a perpetual kiss, their limbs tangled around the egg inside their hollowed abdomens.

However, their wonderful, soft bodies, which Heather had sampled so many times, had withered away feeding the black orb. Those tender, childish girls were now desiccated mummies, the husks of once exceedingly beautiful youngsters, wrapped around the vampiric sphere which had almost doubled its size by drinking their vital fluids.

Suddenly, a faint ripping could be heard up above at the cocoon. All the gazes were directed to the dark egg to confirm the source of the sound. Slowly but surely, a ragged line was bisecting the orb, dense fluids beginning to seep from the cracks.
All the sixty two assembled brides held their breath as the breach widened and the fingers of a small hand appeared between the halves of the shell, grabbing the edges and exerting force. The crack widened slowly, until its structure couldn’t hold anymore and the whole cocoon all but exploded with the pressure of the compressed albumen being freed at once.

The halves of the egg, with the crumbling corpses of the twins still attached to them fell to the ground like a broken piñata, but such a beautifully wicked event wasn’t even paid any attention. What the brides were admiring instead was the glorious body of the teenager who had previously been two persons but now had fused into an altogether different entity.

The beautiful platinum blonde, hovering in midair and still covered by the mucus of her birth, was exactly how Inna and Ilsa would have been had they allowed their minds and bodies to reach the teens. During those last eight months, both their brains had been slowly and methodically combined together by Him inside their fused cocoons, a process reflected in the mental landscape, were the projected bodies of the twins wasted away feeding that new entity.

After a moment of introspective, the newest bride opened her azure eyes, breathed deeply and looked warmly at the assembled harem surrounding her floating body. She descended slowly, like a newly born goddess, and absorbed the sight of each of her sisters with eyes that were both old and young. Everyone assembled returned her gaze with admiration and lust, foreshadowing the following celebratory orgy. Their Husband was also present, His powerful mind permeating every patch of earth, every gust of wind, every ray of light, and He also approved the fusion of the girls.

Every woman also got a glimpse of what the distant future offered them all, their minds slowly joining one another until just a bride remained, His perfect wife. However, that future was still billions and billions of years away, and the today still offered many options for entertainment. Two brides had been forever lost, one bride needed to be welcomed into the family, and the latest addition spoke for the first time.

“Hello, I’m Ilsanna. Have I missed much?”


Okay. above is Heather - Cradle of Life
by falquian
It's a bit more gory than "Daisy and the cuntflower".
Actually it's more everything, so be advised. ;)


we gotta rename this thread Falquian stories

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