Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Literature / Hobbyist Core Member findsounddragonUnited States Recent Activity
Deviant for 4 Years
6 Month Core Membership
Statistics 50 Deviations 103 Comments 7,665 Pageviews

Newest Deviations

Mature content
Flowergirl :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 9 3
Mature content
In Bloom :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 6 3
Mature content
Dryad (Homorosa carolinaesapiens) :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 2 0
Mature content
Potting Lily :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 13 7
Mature content
The Witch and the Flower :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 9 3
Mature content
The Sorceress's Sex Toy :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 3 0
Under the Sea :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 5 0 Date Night :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 18 6 Dani's Wedding :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 8 0 On the Road :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 2 5 Sisterly Bonding :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 0 0 Cuddle :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 12 3
Mature content
Milk, Eggs, and Science :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 16 4
Mature content
Harpy (Homoaves haliaeetosapiens) :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 0 0
Mature content
(Lamia) Homoserpentes scytaleapiens :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 2 0
Mature content
Cowgirl (Homobos taurusapiens) :iconfindsounddragon:findsounddragon 3 1


Mature content
The Accident :iconmuchbirth:MuchBirth 61 13
Life Is Strange - Max and Chloe :iconmilliganvick:MilliganVick 251 8 Life Is Strange - Max and Chloe :iconmilliganvick:MilliganVick 4,574 218 Bioshock Infinite Burial at Sea - Light perhaps? :iconmilliganvick:MilliganVick 1,841 65 Violent Delights :iconquirkilicious:Quirkilicious 2,087 51 My Tumblr is up to date :iconrasburton:RasBurton 266 6
Mature content
Zelda :icontarakanovich:Tarakanovich 1,420 49
Green-Ranger Study :iconjoelwhite:JoelWhite 133 18 Green Ranger :iconcarlosdattoliart:CarlosDattoliArt 410 36 Power Rangers - Green Solace :iconmangalphantom:mangalphantom 243 79 Boob Fashion - ReBent :iconbedbendersinc:BedBendersInc 586 15
Mature content
Autumn's TF Series: Cowgirl Anthro 1 :iconpowerman2000:powerman2000 130 4
Mature content
Caroline :iconrasburton:RasBurton 570 28
Daphne :iconvalkyrie-ghost:Valkyrie-Ghost 149 50
The Formula
The Formula
Evelyn worked for a small soda production company in the R&D Dept. She had been struggling for weeks to come up with a new formula for the company's new cherry flavored soda. For some reason, no matter what the chemical makeup says the soda should taste like, she just couldn't get it to taste like real cherries. After being threatened with her job if she couldn't perfect the formula, she began working day and night...
"I've got it," Evelyn shouted as she held up the deep red liquid to her face, "It certainly smells like a cherry soda, but the real test is in the taste."
She tilted the vial containing the fizzy liquid into her mouth, a smile appearing on her face as she swished it in her mouth. However, the smile quickly turned into a frown before she ran to the sink and spit out the liquid, "Ugh, that's way too sour," she shouted as she cupped her hands under the faucet and filled them with water, quickly bringing it to her mouth and drinking to get the ta
:icondragonseeker26:dragonseeker26 43 5
Mature content
Maybe they Mooooved? :icontf-warlock:TF-Warlock 490 16



Mature Content

This content is intended for mature audiences.

or, enter your birth date.*



Please enter a valid date format (mm-dd-yyyy)
Please confirm you have reviewed DeviantArt's Terms of Service below.
* We do not retain your date-of-birth information.

Disclaimer: All individuals in this story are eighteen or older. The author does not condone sexual acts with non-consenting participants. The author does condone consenting adults doing basically whatever they want to each other in the privacy of their own home. Please enjoy. Constructive feedback is appreciated.

Common Name: Dryad, Nymph

Species: Homorosa carolinaesapiens

Gender: Female

Physical Characteristics: A dryad, also known as a nymph or plantgirl, is a humanoid cross-species with a unique set of floral traits and physiology. The most immediately obvious difference between a dryad and a human woman is her skin color. Her skin pigment consists of varying shades of verdant green, from bright emerald to deep forest. Her skin is also covered with a series of vines over varying thicknesses, which wrap around their thighs, torsos, arms. These vines grow both into and out of her skin and muscles, and are as sensitive to touch as the rest of her body.

The thicker vines extend beyond the surface of her skin, cascading out and away from her, growing broad leaves in order to maximize sunlight exposure and facilitate photosynthesis. The majority of these vines extend to her sides and behind her, allowing her greater range of motion. Buds form on the ends of these vines, blooming into brilliant pink, purple, and red flowers, which allow her to reproduce. Smaller blooms often form on a dryad’s head, accentuating her physical beauty. Her vines also contain retractable venomous thorns, allowing the dryad to defend herself against predators and unwanted suitors alike.

A dryad’s nipples produce a sweet, nectar like substance, similar in consistency to breast milk, but with a distinct berry flavor. Dryad nectar is an extremely popular beverage due to its nutritional value and aphrodisiac properties. As with cowgirls, bottled nectar is quite popular, but most connoisseurs swear by suckling directly from her breast.

Unlike other cross-species, dryads are almost completely immobile, their legs and buttocks are firmly rooted to the ground, with the primary root system extending out of her rectum and into her former digestive tract. While the occasional dryad takes root laying prostrate on the ground, allowing additional roots growing out of her back, the typical dryad opts to bury the lower portion of her legs in the earth when she takes root, taking care to ensure that her vagina remains unobstructed. This lets her to sit upright, taking the appearance of a potted plant.

Upright dryads retain the use of their upper extremities and torsos, allowing them to engage in social interaction with humans, other dryads, and other cross species. Prostrate dryads tend to be less social, fully embracing their floral side. All dryads have extremely sensitive human sexual organs, and enjoy stimulation from male and female partners of both human and cross-species. Other than being green and free of pubic hair, a dryad’s human sexual organs are visibly identical to her human counterparts and responds to stimuli in the same manner.

Behavior: Despite their sedentary nature, dryads are highly social creatures, eager for companionship. Dryads are able to slip in and out of a semi-conscious state, allowing them to pass long periods of time without social and intellectual stimulation without succumbing to boredom and loneliness. Dryads are kind, considerate, though can be seen as flighty, despite their rooted existence.

Dryads tend to take root in groups, forming large orchards, sometimes containing dozens or hundreds of dryads. They stick to warmer climates, often taking root in or around human settlements for both protection and social interaction. Dryads are not picky when selecting sexual partners, and will copulate with just about any humanoid that approaches them. Due to the come and go nature of their sexual partners, sexual fidelity and monogamy is rare among dryads.

Like nagas and harpies, all dryads are female. Due to the nature of their anatomy and reproductive cycle, dryads must take root in close proximity to other dryads in order to bear seeds. Dryads will often entice humans with sexual favors in order to spread their seeds over a wider area. Once in a while, a pair of dryads that take root close enough to each other will engage in intimate physical and sexual contact with each other, sometimes at the expense of other potential partners.

Dryads, due to their anatomy and nutrition requirements, are exclusive nudists. Maximum skin and leaf exposure is essential for photosynthesis. Their immobility requires would be friends, lovers, and companions to visit the dryad at her plot or pot, which means that they are generally free from encounters with the more prude and puritanical members of society.

Dryads do not excrete much in the way of bodily waste, with the primary by-product of their metabolism being carbon dioxide. In the rare event that a dryad over-hydrates, she will urinate the excess as needed. Dryads in more arid climates will often take on excess water, excreting and reabsorbing it as needed.

Dryads cannot survive in cold climates. The few that live outside of tropical zones do so in climate-controlled green houses. Some dryads opt to take root in large pots, which can be moved as needed with the aid of other humanoid partners.

Dryads are sexually accommodating, initiating and accepting sexual encounters as needed. A dryad’s vagina is constantly lubricated, and while she enjoys foreplay as much as the next woman, she does not require it for intercourse. Dryads do not have children in the typical sense, although it is not unusual for a dryad’s biological daughter to take root close to her mother.

Nutrition: Dryads do not eat solid food. They are capable of ingesting and processing liquids, although they do not require oral sustenance at all. Dryads take in the majority of their nutrition through photosynthesis, which provides them with a caloric intake sufficient to remain exothermic and partially mobile.

Dryads absorb water and additional nutrients through their root system. While a dryad will grow roots from her feet, calves, thighs, buttocks, and another other skin that remains in contact with the ground for an extended period of time, the largest and most essential root emerges out of her digestive tract, extending from her anus deep into the ground. Damage to or destruction of this root can be lethal to a dryad, so special care must be taken when relocating a rooted dryad.

Dryads grow lethargic when preparing to bear fruit, diverting all of their nutrition and energy to growing her seed and preparing to give birth. Pregnant dryads require additional water and sunlight in order to form healthy seeds. Dyads retain the majority of their senses, except for that of smell. As a result, a pregnant dryad is more than happy to allow cowgirls and other cross-species to defecate and bury their droppings near her roots, providing her with nutrient-rich soil.

Reproductive Cycle: Dryads are unique among cross-species, in that they are fertilized by other dryads. When their flowers bloom, dryads fertilize each other, both through the wind and with the assistance of pollinating insects and animals. Their sexual encounters, while pleasurable, are completely irrelevant to their reproductive process. However, dryads are known to engage in a little quid pro quo, allowing humans to copulate with them in exchange for spreading a little pollen.

Once fertilized, the dryad will form a seed inside her uterus, then form her fruit around the seed. These fruits are quite large, about the size of a mango. Once the fruit is fully formed, the dryad’s uterus will contract, triggering labor. While strenuous, giving birth is a relatively easy and pleasurable experience for a dryad, many of which experience multiple orgasm while birthing their fruit.

Once the fruit emerges, the dryad must give it to either a human woman or a proxy in order to complete her reproductive cycle. Many dryads will befriend and romance human women in order to breed. These women will often assist their dryad partners in fruit bearing, immediately consuming the fruit once it emerges so that their dryad lover can plant her seed herself. In any case, once the fruit is out of her possession, the dryad’s part in the reproductive process is complete until she blooms again.

Dryads bloom approximately every twenty-eight days. A dryad has very little control over whether she becomes pregnant or not, with the wind and the good graces of other creatures having more say over her reproductive destiny than her own volition. Despite the obstacles, dryads are one of the fastest growing cross-species on the planet.

Taking Root: Taking root marks the beginning of a dryad’s life as a dryad. Unlike other cross-species, all dryads are born as human females. A human woman becomes a dryad by obtaining a dryad’s fruit and inserting the seed inside her anal cavity, allowing it to germinate inside her rectum and large intestine. While this may seem like a strange decision, many human women are eager to become dryads.

A dryad’s fruit is rich and flavorful, containing both a potent aphrodisiac similar to the one contained in her nectar, as well as a powerful muscle relaxant. The fruit’s juices are slippery rather than sticky, helping to lubricate the seed. After consuming the fruit, the woman, either by herself, or with a partner, places the seed at her sphincter, carefully pushing it inside. Once it is inserted deeply enough, the sphincter will close tightly around it, and the seed will emit a stimulant that will prevent bowel movement. Once the seed is inserted, it cannot be removed.

As the seed germinates, it both merges with and replaces the lower gastrointestinal tract. Her belly will swell as her new root system expands in her abdomen, giving her the appearance of a pregnant woman. Once the new dryad is ready to take root, she will be compelled by instinct to find a suitable plot and dig out a space for herself. Less athletically inclined dryads sometimes require assistance, lest they spend the rest of their lives on their backs.

Eventually, the formerly human women will experience the urge to defecate, and her first root will emerge from her anus, burrowing deep into the ground and immobilizing her. She will experience the first flood of water and nutrients as her new roots draw both into her former digestive tract.

The new dryad’s skin will turn green as chlorophyll floods her bloodstream. Other roots and vines will begin to grow, rising up out of her skin and muscle tissue. These vines will quickly extend out and away from her, forming large broad leaves to gather sunlight. Buds will grow on her head and vines, which will blossom once her reproductive system is prepared to bear fruit. Within a week, she will complete the transition from human to plant, both physically and psychologically.

Legal Status: Dryads do not have much in the way of legal concerns. With the exception of the plot of soil they take root in, dryads do not have possessions. They are very territorial with regard to their soil, taking an attempt to encroach on her earth as a threat on her life.

Because of this, property sales that involve dryad-occupied land much account for their presence. This is rarely an issue, with the exception of socially conservative humans that tend to view dryads and other cross-species as abominations. Tragedies have occurred where humans unknowingly purchased a dryad orchard, treating the poor plant women as little more than weeds. To avoid this, dryads typically take root on dryad-owned or dryad-sympathetic property.

The legal status of dryads varies on nationality. In some countries, dryads, like other humanoid cross-species, are considered full legal citizens with all the rights and responsibilities thereof. Some dryads opt to retain a degree of mobility, living in pots so that they can work and live in human society. Dryad teachers, musicians, and artists are surprisingly common.

In other countries, dryads are treated as little more than property, to be cultivated and disposed of at the whims of humans in more authoritarian states. Cross-species rights advocates are working tirelessly to safely and humanely relocate dryads in repressive nation-states.

Further Reading: Dryad Cultivation, The Monstergirl Encyclopedia, Caring for Your Nymph, The Most Delicate Flowers, Cross-Species Digest

Dryad (Homorosa carolinaesapiens)
A brief overview of the alluring and seductive Homorosa carolinaesapiens, commonly known as dryad.

Common Name: Dryad, Nymph

Species: Homorosa carolinaesapiens

Gender: Female

Physical Characteristics: A dryad, also known as a nymph or plantgirl, is a humanoid cross-species with a unique set of floral traits and physiology. The most immediately obvious difference between a dryad and a human woman is her color. Her skin pigment consists of varying shades of verdant green, from bright emerald to deep forest. Her skin is also covered with a series of vines over varying thicknesses, which wrap around their thighs, torsos, arms. These vines grow both into and out of her skin and muscles, and are as sensitive to touch as the rest of her body.

Mature Content

This content is intended for mature audiences.

or, enter your birth date.*



Please enter a valid date format (mm-dd-yyyy)
Please confirm you have reviewed DeviantArt's Terms of Service below.
* We do not retain your date-of-birth information.
Disclaimer: All individuals in this story are eighteen or older. The author does not condone sexual acts with non-consenting participants. The author does condone consenting adults doing basically whatever they want to each other in the privacy of their own home. Please enjoy. Constructive feedback is appreciated.

The sunlight woke me up before my alarm. I groaned when I glanced at my phone. I was three hours late for work. Again. There were two voicemails. The first was my boss, demanding to know where I was. The second was my boss, informing me that I didn’t need to bother coming in. Ever again.

“You got fired again, didn’t you?” my roommate asked knowingly.

“It would appear that way, yes,” I said, covering myself with the blanket. I fell asleep watching TV in the living room, which would be a problem if it weren’t for the fact that I had a bad habit of ditching my clothing in my sleep. Who doesn’t love a sleepwalking nudist?

“Are you naked?” she asked, already knowing the answer. She didn’t seem pleased.

“Yes,” I admitted sheepishly.

She sighed. “Yeah…I’m gonna need you to move out.”

I couldn’t fault her for that. I was already a month behind on rent and utilities, and this was the fourth job I’d lost in as many weeks. I tried, I really did, but I wasn’t so great at the whole showing up on time thing, when I bothered to show up at all. I don’t really have an excuse. I’m just lazy. A lazy, naked, and now, homeless girl.

I headed down to the coffee shop to hit the job boards on their Wi-Fi, hitting the limit on my tenth credit card to pay for a cup of coffee. I wasn’t just broke. I had crazy amounts of debt, and I was pretty much alone in the world. No parents, no siblings, no friends, nothing. I stood a very real chance of starving to death in the street if I didn’t find a job I could actually do.

Most of the actual jobs required experience and good references, neither of which I had. However, there was one posting that piqued my interest. It was for a paid research volunteer for Renewal Enterprises. No experience required. Free room and board for one year. Lump sum payment of $50,000 at the end of the trial. It sounded too good to be true, but I called them anyway. Not only was the position available, but I could come in and interview immediately. I caught the bus down to their research laboratory.

The lab turned out to be a huge greenhouse, with a large office with huge privacy windows all around it. Turns out, Renewal Enterprises was this big environmental research conglomerate, one of the few companies that was actually working on real solutions to global warming, overpopulation, and global poverty. I had no idea why they’d want someone like me, but the woman I talked to on the phone insisted that I didn’t need any special education or experience.

I was sweating bullets during the whole interview process. I dressed casually, since those were the only clothes I owned that were actually clean. A beautiful woman in a lab coat greeted me at the door. Her name was Violet and she smelled like flowers and looked like a raven-haired goddess. She was sweet and friendly and didn’t’ mind answering my stupid questions about the mountains of paperwork I had to fill out.

I didn’t understand much of the legal mumbo-jumbo, but I caught the important parts. I’d live here full-time for a year. I was a little put-off by the fact that I wouldn’t be allowed to leave, but beggars can’t be choosers, and it’s not like I had anywhere to go anyway. My food and housing would be provided by the company until the end of the experiment. Most importantly, I’d be paid fifty grand, tax free at the end of the experiment. Sounded pretty good to me.

It didn’t hurt that Violet would be my caretaker throughout the experiment. I was halfway in love with her already, and I’d pretty much let her do whatever she wanted to me. I prayed to any gods that were listening that she was gay and that I wasn’t imagining the way she laughed and brushed my arm with her fingers.

Flirting with the sexy scientist was put on hold as her boss entered the room. He was an older man, with a white beard and glasses. Looked kind of like Santa Claus in a lab coat. “Miss Grant, I’m Dr. Emil Spencer. I understand you’re here about the volunteer position, is that correct?” he asked kindly.

“Yes, it is. You can call me Lily, but the way,” I said, shaking his hand.

“Lily. How apropos. Now, I assume you’ve read the terms of your contract. Non-Disclosure Agreement and all that. Do you have any questions?”

“Not really,” I shrugged.

“Good. Then I have just a few questions for you. Are you close to your family?”

“No. I was in foster care my whole life,” I said bitterly. I didn’t like thinking about it.

“Any close friends?”

“Not really.”

“Any romantic relationships?”

“I wish,” I said wistfully, thinking of Violet’s flirty smile. Damn, my life was depressing.

“Excellent. Well, why don’t I give you an overview of the research you’ll be helping us with. We’ve discovered a unique species of flora that forms symbiotic relationships with a wide variety plants, as well as animals. Unfortunately, due to the confidential nature of our research, I cannot tell you more until we begin the experiment. Are you interested?”

I still had no idea what they wanted me to do, but for a free bed and fifty grand, I was willing to do pretty much anything. “Sign me up,” I said eagerly.

“Wonderful. Violet will help you finish the paperwork and conduct your physical exam. We’ll get started right away. I can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing. We may very well save the planet,” he said earnestly.

I had to admit, that did sound pretty cool, especially for a high school dropout that lived in her car.

The last obstacle between me and my paycheck was a physical exam, provided by none other than the lovely Violet herself. She asked me to take my clothes off, which I did reluctantly. When I pictured her seeing me naked, I imagined a much more romantic setting. Of course, she was way out of my league. She looked young, but she was probably some super-genius scientist or something. A girl can dream, can’t she?

She put on a pair of gloves, then poked and prodded me for a while. She helped me put on a paper gown and some hospital slippers, then lead me out into the hallway.

“Um, and I going to get my clothes back?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Violet replied.

She led me into one of the greenhouses. It was warm and humid, but not uncomfortably so. There was a wide variety of colorful and fragrant plants. I never thought too much about botany before, but Violet made it sound pretty interesting. “I can’t tell you how excited I am for you. You’re going to be at the center of one of the greatest breakthroughs in botany, biology, anthropology, and climate science,” she said eagerly. Her enthusiasm was pretty contagious.

We stopped in front of a very large pot. It was tall and narrow, like a fountain drink cup, made of heavy red clay. I peered inside it. It was empty, except for a thin layer of potting soil at the bottom. “Go ahead and remove your slippers and examination gown please,” Violet said kindly. I was a little embarrassed to be naked in the middle of a greenhouse, but I did as she asked.

“What now? I asked, trying in vain to cover my bare breasts and pussy.

“Now I’ll help you climb into your pot, and we can get started,” she said brightly.

The pot was half as tall as I was, but there was a small stepladder next to it. Violet helped me lower myself inside, assuring me that the base was weighted so it wouldn’t tip, despite being so tall and narrow. I had enough time getting in without help. Getting out would be pretty much impossible.

Dr. Spencer joined us, pushing a large vined plant with broad leaves in a wheelbarrow. I cupped my breasts with my hands to cover them, but he seemed more interested in the plant than my naked body. “Lily, meet your new companion. This plant will establish a symbiotic relationship with you. Normally it binds to trees, both drawing nutrients from the tree, as well as providing it with additional solar exposure and nutrients. What makes this vine unique is that it will attach to animals as well, providing similar benefits. We want to see how it will react to a human partner under laboratory conditions,“ he explained.

I wasn’t sure what to take from that. The two scientists didn’t wait for me to ask any questions. Violet had me spread my legs, then opened one of the bags of potting soil next to the pot and started pouring it into the pot. “Don’t step on top of it. Just let it cover you,” she said gently. The dirt was cool, but surprisingly soothing.

Once it was up to my calves, Violet and Dr. Spencer paused long enough to lift the vine out of the wheelbarrow. Now that I could see it more closely, I saw that the plant was rooted in a planter pot instead of a permanent container. The two of then lifted it into my pot, setting it down behind me, pressed against my bare butt. Once they started pouring in soil again, covering my knees as well as the vine’s roots, I realized that my pot was its permanent container. And since when did I start calling it my pot?

Violet and Dr. Spencer took care to pat down each layer, filling the gap between my legs. They kept adding more dirt, until I no longer had to support my own weight. My legs were completely trapped in the dirt. “Have a seat sweetheart,” Violet said sweetly.

Sure enough, there was enough dirt behind me to support my bare butt. It felt strange to sit on the loose soil, but stranger still when the two botanists buried my thighs. Violet gently scooped potting soil on top of my groin. The texture was strangely pleasurable against my bare pussy.

Finally, the pot was filled to the brim. “How do you feel?” Dr. Spencer asked.

“Like a potted plant,” I said sarcastically. The funny thing was, I didn’t mind. Sure, it was strange and more than a little undignified, but it was actually quite comfortable. “So, is this it? I just sit here naked in the dirt with your weird vine?”

Dr. Spencer laughed. “Oh no, we’re just getting started. Violet, let’s give our friends a healthy head start, shall we?”

Violet flashed me a warm smile, then snapped on a pair of surgical gloves. She picked up one of the longer vines and gently lifted it up the left side of my back, gently pressing the length of it against my skin. “Looks like we won’t be needing the surgical tape,” she said approvingly. Indeed, the vine stuck against my skin, tingling as it bound itself to me. Violet wrapped it around my arm in smooth circles, gently pressing down. It was strangely relaxing.

She did the same with my right arm, then pressed a few smaller vines along my back and torso. She even ran a thin vine up my neck and behind my left ear, attaching the end of it to my temple. I was still able to move my arms and head once the vines were in place. I thought they would itch or otherwise irritate me, but they didn’t bother me at all. I pulled at one gently out of curiosity. “Don’t do that,” Violet scolded me. “Pull too hard and it’ll tear your skin. Yikes.

“Almost done,” Dr. Spencer announced cheerfully. “Now we just have to wait for your roots to set in.”

“Am I going to be stuck in this pot for a whole year?” I complained.

“Don’t worry,” Violet reassured me. “I spend most of my time out here in the garden. I’ll keep you company.”

“As you merge with the plant, you will establish a symbiotic relationship with it. Your body will provide for it, and it will provide for you. You will lead an exciting new life as the world’s first human-animal hybrid,” Dr. Spencer said proudly.

“Care to see what you look like?” Violet asked as some guy in a jumpsuit wheeled in a full-length mirror.

I shrugged. “Why not?”

My jaw dropped when I saw my reflection. I looked strangely beautiful, and exotic, alluring blend of girl and plant. The vines looked like they were a part of my skin rather than crudely attached. The leaves accentuated my curves, leaving me both covered and exposed at the same time. The strangest part by far was the look on my face. I looked content, even happy in my pot.

Then I felt something tickle my legs. At least, it started with my legs. The ghostly fingers moved up my thigh, probing my ass cheek, slipping between the crack. “Something’s happening,” I gasped as I felt the root push inside my tight sphincter.

“Did it penetrate you?” Dr. Spencer asked enthusiastically.

“Uh huh,” I groaned. The root grew fatter inside my abused colon, pushing further and further inside my body. I felt my bowels, churn, then relax as the roots won, stretching me, filling me. God, I wished one of them would fuck my cunt like that.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” she asked, sounding concerned.

“No,” I grunted. It felt, god it felt amazing. “It’s so deep.”

“She’s taking root. Look at her skin. It’s already starting to flood with chlorophyll,” Dr. Spencer announced eagerly.

I looked at my arms. The skin around the vines was turning bright green, and it looked like the vines were melting into my skin, merging with the muscles. The sensations were overwhelming.

“I didn’t expect it to happen this quickly. This is the most aggressive plant I’ve ever seen,” Violet said with amazement. “Right now, millions of tiny tendrils are burrowing into your skin and muscle tissue, modifying the cellular structure, while simultaneously fusing with your circulatory system.”

Dr. Spencer wheeled over a small cart and pressed a metal wand against my belly. “Looks like the roots have fused with her digestive tract. It looks like her uterus is clear through. Interesting,” he murmured.

“Lily, I know you’re processing a lot right now, but is there a root in your vagina? It’s important,” Violet asked.

“No. Should there be?” I gritted, barely coherent. I was dangerously close to climaxing in front of two total strangers.

“Must be saving her reproductive system for something else. Fascinating,” Dr. Spencer noted.

“I’m going to stimulate her. She’s close to orgasm. I think the endorphin flood will help her complete her metamorphosis,” Violet said. She scooped away the dirt that covered my vagina, then starting rubbing my labia and clit. I don’t think I could have stopped her if I wanted to.

“You could at least buy me dinner first,” I squealed.

Violet laughed. “I think I’m going to enjoy my new plant,” she said. She kissed me, pushing her fingers inside me as she did. That pushed me over the edge. I came, harder than I had before, screaming in delight as my body surrendered.

I sighed contently as Violet gently kissed my lips, cheeks, and neck. I didn’t even care that some old guy watched this girl finger fuck me. I felt so good, so deliriously happy and complete.

Dr. Spencer chuckled. “Well, it looks like you’re enjoying yourself,” he observed knowingly.

“Definitely,” I cooed.

“Well, it looks like your symbiosis is complete. As you can see, your bodily functions are now mated your vines. You will no longer pass solid waste, and any urine you produce will enrich your pot with nutrients. Are you hungry at all?” he asked.

“Not really. I’m pretty thirsty though.”

“It looks like you’re starting to photosynthesize, which means you will no longer require food. We’ll give you some nutrient supplements to ensure that your digestive and root systems merge properly. Speaking of which, Violet, let’s water our new plant, shall we?”

“Will do.” Violet grabbed a large pitcher and poured it onto the soil. I felt the cool liquid against my legs, but it wasn’t long before I felt it inside me, like the water was being drawn up through my roots and into my belly.

The fresh flow of water stimulated the vines, encouraging them to grow longer and thicker, sprouting a couple of new leaves before my very eyes. I fondled the new leaves, loving what was happening.

“Still thirsty?” Dr. Spencer asked shrewdly.

I shook my head. “Not at all.”

“Good. Well, you’ve had a busy day. Violet will keep you company. I’ll let you ladies get to know each other better. Let her know if you need anything. Have a good night,” he said. With that, he headed out of the greenhouse, leaving me alone with his younger, sexier partner.

Violet caressed my leaves and skin. I looked at myself in the mirror again. I was completely green, from head, to what I assumed, toe.

“You are so beautiful,” Violet said lovingly.

“For a plant,” I said sarcastically.

“For anyone. Although, you are a very pretty plant. I hope you understand how important what you’re doing is. I can’t wait to see what you look like once you blossom.”

“Blossom? Really?” I asked.

Violet nodded, stroking my cheek. “When you flower, you’ll be covered in pale violet flowers. You’ll look amazing. Put all the other plants in their place.”

I smiled as I pictured myself covered in flowers. My smile faded as I mustered the courage to ask the question that I was pretty sure I already knew the answer to. “You can’t reverse this, can you?” I asked.

“No,” she admitted sadly. “You are now as much a part of the vine as it is of you. Trying to remove it would kill you. You’re a single organism now. The bond is permanent.”

“So, I’m going to spend the rest of my life as a potted plant?”

“Basically, yes.”

I sighed. Despite her part in the deception, I couldn’t find it in me to be angry at her. It was shocking, knowing that I would literally spend the rest of my days as a literal vegetable, but it’s not like I was doing much better. “It’s not like I had better prospects. I sleep a lot, I have zero work ethic, and I’m something of an exhibitionist. Maybe I was meant to be a plant,” I mused.

“I’m sorry for tricking you,” Violet said regretfully. “I wanted to tell you, but I’m under contract too. Plus, I really, really wanted you to be a plant.”

“Why?” I asked, genuinely curious.

She shrugged. “I like plants. I like you. I’ve always combined my favorite things. Chocolate and ice cream. Country and rock. Pretty girls and exotic symbiotic plants. I wasn’t lying when I said you are a beautiful plant. I mean, you were cute before, but you are an absolutely breathtaking plant. You’re like a botanical goddess,” she admitted.

If I wasn’t green, I would have blushed.

Violet continued. “The good news is, the symbiosis will greatly extend your life indefinitely. You have the metabolism of a plant, as well as the longevity. You could live for centuries,” she explained.

“Wow. Really?” As side effects go, immortality was a pretty good one.

“Yep. You’ll be immune to disease. Your leaves and roots will keep you fed and happy. The only thing you really have to worry about is boredom. And with me around, you’re not going to be bored,” she said seductively.

I smiled. “So, now that we’re alone, what do you intend to do with me?” I asked, taking lacing Violet’s pale fingers with my green ones.

“Well, I’d really like to see those flowers,” she said coyly. “And since flowers are the reproductive organs of plants, it stands to reason that a little sexual stimulation might coax out your buds.

She leaned in and kissed me deeply, flicking her tongue against mine. I held her close, bringing her down to my breast, sighing with pleasure as she sucked on my dark green nipple. I felt a release of pressure, followed by a squeal of delight from my lover.

“Your breasts! They’re bursting with nectar!” she exclaimed.

I squeezed on of them. Sure enough, a jet of clear liquid shot through the air. I tasted some of it myself. It was tangy and sweet, like mango.

“Alright Violet. You’ve seen every inch of me and then some. I think it’s time you return the favor,” I insisted.

She grinned, letting the lab coat slide off her shoulders. She unbuttoned her blouse and slipped out of her skirt, then slipped out of her bra and panties. She climbed up onto the pot and took a seat on the dirt, wrapping her legs around my torso.

“Like what you see?” she asked.

“Not bad for a human girl,” I teased.

“Enjoy it while you can. I don’t think I’m going to stay human for much longer,” she whispered.

“Ever fuck a plant?” I asked, stroking her clit with my green thumb.

“Does a cucumber count?” she quipped.

I shut her up with a kiss. We explored every inch of each other, hair, lips, necks, vines, breasts, leaves, cunts, even roots. After a few hours, Violet collapsed against me in a sweaty heap. I couldn’t sweat anymore, but a surge of love and warmth radiated through me as I saw buds start to form on my vines.

Over the next few days, Violet spent every waking moment she could with me. I watched myself grow in the mirror, the line between plant and woman irreversibly blurred. I savored the sensation of cool water flooding my veins as she watered my pot. My vines grew out from my waist and hips and out over the side of the pot, forming a leafy skirt. I savored the warmth of the sun as my skin and leaves basked in the rays, nourishing and energizing me. I never grew hungry, and I never would.

As I grew, my awareness of my body grew with it. I could feel the rays of the sun on my leaves, feel the wind gently rustling through my vines. Strangest of all, I could feel every grain of soil in my roots as they sought out water and nutrients. Most importantly, I thought of them as my leaves, my vines, my roots. I couldn’t tell a difference between me and the plant anymore and I couldn’t care less.

I was never bored, even as days grew into weeks and weeks grew into months. When there wasn’t much for mental stimulation, I fell into a semi-conscious haze, a sort of dreamless sleep that passed the more uneventful hours, especially when I was basking in the sun. Dr. Spencer poked and prodded me, marveling at my metamorphosis.

“Wonderful. Simply wonderful,” he said in awe. I smiled at him. I was much happier as a plant than I was as a woman, so I no longer cared that he tricked me into giving up my humanity.

I masturbated as often and as long as I liked. If I wanted pleasure, I got pleasure. Violet, of course, was always willing to lend a hand. Or tongue. She was my constant and faithful companion. I loved her in ways I couldn’t imagine, and she loved me in ways I didn’t think I deserved. We both cooed with delight as my buds opened up, revealing bright, beautiful violet flowers. They reminded me of her.

“I love my flowers,” I sighed fondly.

“I love you,” Violet said, kissing me.

“I love you too.”

From then on, Violet slept in the greenhouse. Dr. Spencer voiced his concerns when he realized the depth of our relationship, but ignored him. Violet spent her nights curled next to my pot, my leaves gently draping and protecting her. I was her delicate flower, her sturdy tree, her sensual dryad, and her loving companion.

I started moving less, only when I needed to. I could freeze in any pose. My muscles never ached or tired. Violet watched me in silence once. She said I was perfectly still for hours. She couldn’t even see me breathing. Turns out, I no longer needed to. I wondered if my heart was still beating, or if I even had one. I still retained my strength and dexterity. I even took up the guitar during my endless free time. But when I could be still, I was still, moving only for the wind and sun.

“Lily? Liiiilyyy,” Violet murmured gently.

I blinked and stretched my limbs. “How long was I out?” I asked.

“According to the motion cameras, you’ve been almost completely immobile for the seven hours. You only moved to lean towards the light,” my lover explained.

“Basking feels good,” I said with a shrug. Why move if you don’t have to? Seemed like such a waste.

Sometimes, Violet would approach me while I was frozen. She’d kiss me softly, tell me I didn’t need to move if I didn’t want to. She’d drink from my breasts, gently stroke my clit and slip her fingers inside my green, hairless, but otherwise human pussy. I didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, but I always screamed in delight in my mind.

“How did that feel?” Violet asked as I emerged from my sunlight serenity. She kissed me, caressing my leaves.

“Wonderful,” I sighed. “You take such good care of me. I love you so much.”

I stopped thinking about myself in human terms. Sure, I still had a head, face, hands, and other human parts, but my legs were really more like trunks, thick and covered in bark. My limbs were still limber enough to strum a guitar and I could type on a keyboard with my tendrils, but they mostly let me stretch my leaves into the sunlight. My melons were supple, succulent and juicy, much to Violet’s delight, hanging heavy from the top of my stem. And let’s be honest, petals are just a much prettier term than labia.

“I don’t blossom for just anyone you know,” I sassed as Violet stroked the sensitive petals between my trunks, teasing the throbbing stamen I used to call my clit with her thumb.

“Are you going to cum little flower?” Violet teased.

“Better. I’m going to bloom!” I cried. And I did bloom. Again and again and again.

Violet put my pot on casters, allowing her to roll me around the greenhouse, and even outside on warmer days. Sometimes she’d bring me into her office to chat while she worked on paperwork. She teased me, calling me her office plant. I got her back by stroking my petals until I bloomed, coaxing her away from her work and into my pot.

Once she talked Dr. Spencer into going public with their findings, she arranged interviews, even guided tours. Tons of people were eager to talk to the human plant. I enjoyed the attention, even the ones who were only wanted to start at my melons and petals. Some of them even expressed an interest in jumping into a pot of their own.

A year passed. I was healthier and happier than I had ever been, a perfect combination of flora and fauna. It took some convincing, in light of her education and abilities, but Dr. Spencer agreed to let Violet become the next test subject. She climbed into her own pot, right next to mine, turning greener and lovelier by the minute as she and her vine became one beautiful plant.

Sometimes Violet and I spent days without speaking, content to merely exist in each other’s presence. We savored the warmth of the sun, the cool water on our roots, and the loving caress of each other’s tendrils, experiencing a level of intimacy that transcended human experience.

We both blossomed at the same time. We could touch each other’s fingertips, but we had to stroke our own petals to find release. Fortunately, neither of us were shy about it, and our vined flowers brushed as we both bloomed in unison.

Dr. Spencer was ecstatic when our bellies started to swell. Violet and I managed to get each other pregnant. We grew gravid quickly, our stems stretching and expanding to accommodate the life growing inside us. We held hands as we each gave birth.

“It’s time,” I groaned, pushing the fruit of my womb out into the world. It stretched me and filled me like nothing else in my life, I bloomed hard as it finally emerged, slipping free from my abused flower with a satisfying pop.

“Want to do it again?” Violet panted, lovingly holding her own baby plant in her arms.

“Definitely,” I sighed.

Our seeds grew into new vines, and before long Dr. Spencer found another pair of willing women to host them. The girls were shocked and intrigued to meet their new mothers, but were still willing and eager to become plants themselves. Violet and I continued to pollinate each other, giving birth to an entire garden.

The three of us also discovered that the fruit was both tasty and addictive. One of our other research assistants decided to sample it, only to gorge on the entire thing, seed and all. Dr. Spencer found the gravid girl squatting on the ground, in the greenhouse, roots pushing out of her panties and into the dirt. Luckily, they managed to find the poor woman a proper pot to sprout in. Turns out, you can become a plant from the inside out as well as from the outside in.

It took some time and coaxing, but Dr. Spencer finally made good on the promise he made to Violet before she stepped into her pot. It was tricky, but he managed to move both of us into a bigger part, one we can share. This way, we can spend the centuries where we belong, merging our roots, wrapped in each other’s loving embrace.

“You know, if we make love as the sun comes up, we’ll be able to bloom all day while we sun ourselves,” Violet whispered in my ear.

“You’re on, I replied, kissing my beloved violet deeply. She tastes like strawberries now.

“I love you Lily.”

“I love you too Violet.”

The sun rose. We basked in pure bliss. Lily and Violet, two beautiful flowers in bloom. Together forever.
Potting Lily
A girl with limited options volunteers to become a potted plant. Inspired by "The Melissa Plant" by

Mature Content

This content is intended for mature audiences.

or, enter your birth date.*



Please enter a valid date format (mm-dd-yyyy)
Please confirm you have reviewed DeviantArt's Terms of Service below.
* We do not retain your date-of-birth information.
Violet has always been an incredibly skilled witch, particularly learned at herbology and botany. Though she's more than capable on a broom, and can duel with the best of them, the care for, and magical manipulation of plants is her first love and best talent.

Ever since we started dating, she's exposed me to new and exciting enchanted fruits and vegetables, modified to suit her particular proclivities. When I mentioned, off-hand that I wanted larger breasts, she gave me a delicious melon that made me grow a cup size with every bite. When I asked her what she thought about dying my hair purple, she gave me a beet that changed my hair into brilliant shade of royal lavender, all the way down to the root.

I did not mind these little, or in the case of my breasts, not so little transformations. Violet liked to experiment, and I loved and trusted her enough to be confident that she could reverse any spell, as long as she wanted to. I still have to buy bras on the Internet.

Violet got the unkind, but accurate monicker "Shrinking Violet" when she was a girl. Her brilliance was undercut by her social frigidity. She had terrible social anxiety, made worse when she realized that she was a lesbian. It was only through a happy chance of fate that we met. I needed flowers for a friend's wedding and she owned the cutest little floral boutique in Boston.

First I was her customer, then her employee, and now her lover and occasional guinea pig. I actually kind of love it, even when she makes disastrous mistakes, like the time she shrunk me down to the size of a candlestick. She was desperate to reverse it, even though it caused me no real harm. Such is the depths of her love for me.

I came home to find a large pot filled with unpacked potting soil. Given the size and dimensions, as well as the copious amounts of spilled dirt around it, I assumed Violet was interrupted while filling the pot, and still needed to compact it. She could do this with magic of course, but she preferred to do some things with her hands, feet, and elbow grease.

I decided to take care of it for her. Violet can be a bit absent-minded at times, and there was a good chance she'd forget about it until she needed it. I took off my shoes and stepped into the pot. I always liked the crinkle of soft earth on my feet, and it was quicker and easier than doing it by hand. I didn't expect the soil to be quite so loose. I almost lost my balance, but my feet held firm, as did the pot. I tried to step out of the pot, only to find that my feet were rooted in the dirt. Stranger still, my legs were oddly unresponsive, stiff and unyielding.

I lifted the skirt of my sundress, more curious that frightened. I could see the dirt moving, even though I sword my feet were still. I could feel something brush against them. I envisioned a snake, or perhaps a very large worm.

Or a root.

My toes felt longer, more dexterous. My feet, larger and sturdier, and growing more so. I felt the tips of my toes brush the edges of the pot, and the bottom too. How was this possible?

I could also feel the sides of my feet touching each other, my big toes making gentle contact under the soil. Which would not have alarmed me, if it weren't for the fact that my feet were pointed away from each other, with my ankles and heels touching.

Not just touching. Merging.

I watched in silent shock as the skin around my ankles swelled, combining skin and muscle like putty, forming a single solid mass with only a small diver indicating that they were ever separated. To make mattes worse, my skin started to get darker, a deeper shade of tan at first, then to a distinctly deep emerald green. As with the changes below the soil, the shift in pigment seemed to rise up from the earth. Where would it stop?

My legs continued to merge, becoming one below the knee, then at the knee, then higher still. I could not move my legs at all, not even bend my knee, which faded below my verdant skin, and I suspected was not gone entirely. The green climbed as quickly as my flesh joined with itself, condensing my legs into one solid stem.

My dress was not in the way, but my panties were, and I discovered, through trial end error, that magic, and surely this was magic, did not take little things like clothing into consideration. My G cup breasts destroyed my B cup bra before I could undo the clasp. Unfortunately I couldn't remove my panties without ruining them, since my legs could not spread apart to slip them off. Fortunately, the pruning shears were within reach, and after a quick snip I felt cool air on my backside.

I was couldn't see much past my skirt anymore, and I was far more concerned with my transformation than my modesty, so I slipped the dress over my head, leaving me clad in nothing but my bra. Now I could see that my legs only barely resembled legs at all, looking far more like the stalk of a massive plant. They still bent a little, though all along the length of them as opposed to the joint, though my range of motion was limited. Thankfully, a deep valley remained between my thighs below my pelvis, leaving my vagina green, hairless, but otherwise human. It seemed strange to see my cute little pussy tucked into the top of my stem, but I was still a woman, even though I was a plant as well.

I groaned when I realized that I just called myself a plant in my mind.

I tried to call Violet, but my phone was out of reach. It didn't matter. It was usually best to let these transformations run their course. She could put it right later, assuming I wanted her to. I mean, of course I wanted her to. I'm a human being. I'm a human being.

Not really, though.

This enchantment was particularly complex, changing my mind as well as my body. As the green pigment climbed past my navel, I was having a harder time truly believing that I ever was human, let alone that I should aspire to be one. The pigment spread to my breasts. I slipped off my bra, curious to see what effect the transformation would have on my supple melons. They took on the same green hue, though my nipples and areola were a darker shade. They felt full and juicy. I wondered if Violet would like to suckle them.

The green continued up my chest, spreading to my arms and down to my fingertips. I was pleased. I wanted my branches to match my stem after all.

I grinned as my fingers stretched out, a leafy membrane forming between them. My new leaves were just as precise and dexterous as my old hands, although playing the piano would require some adjustments. I giggled. A flower playing the piano. What a silly thought. I spread my fingers, stretching up into the sunlight, its golden rays warming and nourishing me. To think of all the time and effort I wasted purchasing, preparing, and eating food. The earth, sun, and water was all I needed. Luckily there was a full watering can in reach. I poured it into my pot, singing content as my roots drew the cool water into my veins.

I watched with detached amusement as my hair fell out, dropping to the ground in clumps. Flowers don't have hair. Flowers have petals. I beamed, eager for the inevitable. A dense bud rose up from my green scalp. I touched it gently, sending shivered through my entire stalk. I knew what was hidden inside it.

It all made sense in a way, now that I had embraced my true floral nature. I needed roots to anchor me and draw water and nutrients into my stem. I needed a sturdy, but flexible stem to support me, broad leaves to absorb the suns life giving energy, and of course, a lovely flower to entice my lovely Violet. I hoped she would be pleased, and that she would care for me as deeply and well as she did for all her other plants.

I needed something, something to push me over the edge. I wanted to bloom for Violet. I reached down, caressing my melons with one leave and gently stroking the petals of my smaller, more sensitive flower below. I was closer, so close. Just a little bit more. I pictured my Violet in my minds eye. Kissing me. Holding me. Making love to me.

I bloomed.

Bright, lovely lavender petals burst out from the bud, forming a delicate crown on top of my head. As I recovered from the soul-shattering pleasure of blooming, I caught my reflection in the mirror down the hallway. A beautiful flower in the shape of a woman.

I smiled, happy in a way I'd never been before, delighted to let the light warm my leaves and petals, eager to hold on to that feeling. I stretched up towards the sun and surrendered to the blissful existence of a garden plant.

Hours, maybe even days passed. I had no interest in the time, only taking a moment to water myself as my roots grew thirsty. My watering can was almost empty though. More importantly, I desperately missed my Violet, and I wanted to show off my stunning new form. I was eager to bloom again, this time from her touch instead of her memory. She was at a herbology conference. She should be back soon. I hoped. I didn't want to wither away.

Someone was squeezing my melons. I enjoyed it for a moment, savoring the first physical contact I had with another living thing since my transformation. Gently hands explored my stem, gently exploring my petals, cupping my face.

"Lily? Oh goddess, please wake up," Violet cried.

I opened my eyes and smirked. "At least pour me a drink first. What kind of flower do you think I am?" I quipped.

"Lily! Thank the goddess, I was so worried. You wouldn't open your eyes," she cried.

"It's okay Violet. It's okay. I was just basking. I'm kind of oblivious to the world when the sun is shining," I explained.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

I shrugged. "I stepped into this pot and turned into a potted plant," I replied matter-of-factory. "This is one of your spells, right? I'm impressed. This is hands-down your best work."

Violet turned bright red. "That was an experiment. Just something I wanted to try. I thought you might... Lily, I am so sorry. I'll change you back as soon as I can. I promise."

Panic shook my leaves. The thought of losing my roots, being cut off from the earth, my lovely petals wilting away was too much to bear. "Don't," I begged. "Don't change me back. Ever. I don't want to be human again. I love being a flower. I want to be a flower. Your flower."

Violet's eyes widened. I could see the wheels turning in her mind. She looked me over from blossom to root, her expression turning from panic and regret to intrigue, and even lust. I put my leaf on my hip, pushing my melons forward and smiling seductively.

"Goddess. You look so sexy like this," she murmured in awe.

"I'm all yours my love. I'm just a helpless houseplant, a delicate little flower for you to nurture. But don't worry. I promise I'll return the flavor," I whispered, guiding her hand to the smooth green curve of my stem.

I drew her in for a kiss, the first since my transformation. The sensation was familiar and comforting, but even more exciting and exhilarating than before. I couldn't move like I used to, my stem and roots keeping me firmly tethered to my pot. In the past, I was the aggressor in our lovemaking. Now, I had to let my Violet come to me. I didn't have to worry. The look on her face, the hitch in her breath told me she desired my naked floral form twice as much as my old human body. I willed her to caress my swollen melons, stoke the fleshy curve of my stem, and tease my delicate petals with her lips and tongue

I stood naked before the woman I loved, desperate for her attention and love. I was vulnerable. I was alive.

Violet kissed me softly, trailing kisses down my neck and to to curve of my melon. She took my nipple between her lips, groaning with pleasure as sweet nectar flooded her mouth.

"Drink me," I sighed as I nursed her, running my leaves through her silky hair. I wondered if the sensation of her suckling would be the same as it was before. It was so much more. The feeling of utter release as my nectar flowed from my melons was absolutely heavenly.

Her hand found me petals, reaching into the narrow crevice on my stem that lead to my sensitive and still very functional opening. I moaned as her fingers penetrated my folds, much more easily than before. My petals yielded to her digits without any resistance, aided by the juices my little flower released in response to her skilled touch.

"Oh Violet. You are so good. I love you so much," I cried.

I bloomed quickly, my purple crown releasing yellow dust into the air. I idly wondered what would happen if another flower such as myself were nearby as it happened. Would she grow seeds for me? I certainly hoped so.

Violet was not done with me, not by a long shot. When the mood was right, she would use a spell to temporarily modify her anatomy, increasing the length, width, and hardness of her clit so that she could fuck me with it. The mood was certainly right.

Position was the only question. Her magical phallus was ready, emerging from her dripping folds, pulsing with blood and lust. The solution was obvious. I would yield. I would always yield now. My stem would bend, but not break. My lover bent me over the table, pushing her clit inside me with perfect ease.

"You feel so good," Violet groaned as she pumped her clit inside me. She bore hard inside me, spawning on top of my pliant stalk as she came. Fortunately she could cum until she was exhausted, and so could I.

I bloomed again and again, until I had no more pollen to cast into the air. Her hands pressed against my leaves, embracing the with love and tenderness. She kissed me deeply, kissed my forehead and scalp where my blossom emerged, kissed every inch of me she could.

She loved me. She loved her flower, treasured me above all others. Her love warmed me like the sun. I was complete.

Violet made arrangements to accommodate my new form. She watered me regularly, supplemented my pot with all the nutrients I need to grow as a healthy plant. She moved my pot so so could keep her company, in the garden, in the shop, and in our bedroom, always taking care to ensure I got plenty of sunlight.

She did not broach the idea of turning me human again. That door was closed as far as we were both concerned, and I was delighted to spend the rest of my days as a potted plant.

She perfected her transfiguration soil, modifying it so that the effects could be temporary if so desired. She used this spell to join me in my pot one day. We made love as only two flowers can. While she did not have the desire to remain a plant, our botanical tryst did have consequences. Her bloom pollinated me. My stem grew fat and gravid, my petals parted, and with effort and coaching from my beloved, I bore a seed.

We planted her in a small pot together. I don't know what will come of her, but if the green shoot and cries from under the soil are anything to go on, I think our sprout will resemble both of her mothers in due time. I only hope our Rose is both a talented witch and a beautiful flower.
The Witch and the Flower
My bewitching girlfriend accidentally turns me into a potted flower. She's lucky I'm into that.


No journal entries yet.


findsounddragon's Profile Picture

Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States


Add a Comment:
Nate-Walis Featured By Owner 21 hours ago  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the Fav on A Mermaid Making Machine Making A Mermaid.
ColtonthePhantom Featured By Owner Mar 19, 2017
Happy birthday,
i-am-cooldog-999 Featured By Owner Feb 14, 2017  Professional Digital Artist
can Draw… Poop please?? he need Fertiliser for his Pack poor soil :( (Sad) please Help

Its for a Story the more Poop is draw the more Story unlocked because it Fertilise the soil they Need :) (Smile) Can just draw funny Poop and that Counts
Nate-Walis Featured By Owner Feb 1, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the Fav on Choices in Winter, And Pretty Maids all in a Row: Part 1 and Literary Sketch: Turning Leaf.
Nate-Walis Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the Fav on Literary Sketch: A Mermaid as a Last Resort.
Venatari Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
New Thanks Fave by Venatari  
findsounddragon Featured By Owner Oct 30, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome.
MuchBirth Featured By Owner Edited Oct 15, 2016  Professional Writer
Hey, thank you so much for the follow, it means the world to me! Hopefully I can keep what you're looking for coming, and you continue to enjoy! Also, I read your story "Side Effects", and thought it was lovely! A very potent, vivid description of the transformation, and I love the heroine's uncertainty, confusion, and fear in the beginning, but how it was tempered by her husband's support and care. You really did make her emotions feel genuine, and she reacted surprisingly realistically. But oh man, the detail on the transformation was SO good. I love your writing style, and hope you keep it up! :3
findsounddragon Featured By Owner Oct 30, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks. Between you and groblek, I'm feeling rather inspired. Looking forward to seeing more of your work. If you're interested, maybe we could collaborate on something in the future.
MuchBirth Featured By Owner Nov 29, 2016  Professional Writer
I would certainly be willing to discuss it. :D
Add a Comment: