Pollination
by Annalise de Fere
You’re running. Maybe you actually fear the creature behind you, or maybe you simply enjoy the chase, the capture. Whichever it is, you know it’s hopeless. They are bigger, stronger, and faster, towering above you, vines reaching out, threatening to engulf you. You dodge this way and that, but eventually, inevitably, one reaches you.
It doesn’t grab, not yet. It only touches, gently, one questing vine caressing, and then you feel a small sting in the back of your neck. Your pace slows. Your feet falter. You stumble, and fall into waiting vines that would never let a cutie like you get hurt.
Though you’ve been caught, it still feels like you’re falling. Drifting, wafting, down and down deeper. And it feels like you’re floating, soaring, carried along on the pink, fluffy haze that is rapidly filling your mind.
First there was one vine caressing, but now there are many, encircling, holding, cradling. As they smoothly slither over your skin, you realize the injection has left you more sensitive, open to the touches, and they feel so good. They slide and glide over exposed skin on your face, neck, hands, and feet, then quest under clothing, sneaking to secret places. The drug has melted away your fear and all you know is the vines feel so good, soft and sleek and sensual over sensitive skin, and you squirm and writhe and moan and long for more. Distantly you hear a tearing, your clothes succumbing to the pressure of so many vines inside, but you don’t even care, you long for the touch to continue. The vines are reaching and seeking and finding every place you’re longing for them and covering and enfolding and then, suddenly, retreating…
You whimper and beg, but the vines pull back. You try to chase after them, longing to be touched and held more, needing them, but they are, again, too fast for you. You stand, then curl into a ball, sobbing from the longing. You blink bleary eyes and notice you’re covered in a fine yellow powder. You take a deep breath, but somehow, that only makes the longing worse, and you look around, desperately seeking the vines until…
You see another creature coming toward you. Its pace is steady, unhurried, savoring this moment, and a curve of its bark below twin jewel-like alien orbs must surely be a smirk. You reach out your arms, begging, too lost to longing to feel shame or doubt, and the creature holds back the vines you so desire, teasing, until…
Suddenly vines surround and enfold you again, scooping you up, overwhelming you with sweet sensation. Desire fulfilled, touching and caressing and sliding and gliding and pulling the pollen that was on you and in you and savoring the touch of your skin as you’re lost to the joy and the seed of desire planted within you by the first creature sprouts and grows and blossoms in your body until your mind holds all it can of sweet fulfillment and you collapse, spent, held and cradled in two sets of beloved entangling vines.
@Mirabelle thank you ;)