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Demon Seeds

By: JSBloodwine





Demon Seeds Ch. 02: Demigod in Repose



This novella is intended for adult readers only. The content is sexually explicit and intended for mature readers (18+). 

***** 

Demigod in Repose 

Claire awoke in a sunlit room. She could hear dishes rattling and water running. There was the shuffle and tap of heels on hardwood floors. She could make out someone playing a lazy song on the piano, softly without destroying the calm of the morning. The smell of smoked bacon and coffee hung thick in the air. She was so tired. With a little effort her eyes cracked open. The world was a blur but she strained to focus. There was a dark object at her bedside that she thought was a person hovering but it turned out to be a bag of saline tied into her arm...was it saline? What was going on here? Oh shit...the religious zealots might have abducted her. Claire had no idea where she was and couldn't remember anything. She began to panic. She went to sit up and pain shot through her body from her abdomen like an electric shock. Whatever was in that bag, it wasn't Lidocaine. She felt each and every sore muscle as it flexed. It didn't matter what was in the bag, she needed the needle out of her arm until she could assess the situation. Her fingers fumbled at the tape holding the needle in her arm. 

"Hey no no no no! You need to leave that in honey," said a demanding voice from the doorway. Claire hadn't been paying attention due to her panic. The running water in the distance had stopped and the door to her room was open. The blurred silhouette of a woman stood at the foot of her bed. Was she that hazy or did this woman standing before her have some catlike stealth ability? It was probably a combination of both Claire thought. She marked the ominous figure as dangerous and moved cautiously. The blurred figure spoke again, "Claire honey it's just saline you were really dehydrated" Claire looked around again. Flashes of sex with this woman, teaching her plant care, the blank spots in her memory began to fill in. 

"Mmmm...Samara I...eeehh...don't know what happened," Claire murmured. Her brow furrowed and she looked at the medical gear in the room, then back at Samara. Claire opened her mouth to ask a question but Samara beat her to it. 

"I'm a doctor, love. I'm a doctor and a damn good one. It's why I have $100,000 lying around to buy a seed." Claire's curiosity was satisfied. She took a deep breath and exhaled. She was more than relieved. She wasn't going to die at the hands of a religious zealot mercenary squad today. More to the point, she wasn't being prepped for some holy disemboweling. 

Samara walked out of the room and returned pushing a cart topped with a covered silver tray. Claire was about to say the bacon smelled great and give Samara the obligatory thank you for the breakfast speech. People bonded to symbiotic plants knew what to eat to recover from excessive plant sex however people who were not bonded to plants generally had no clue as to what food you had to eat. Still it was always appreciated because they did have the best of intentions. 

Samara set the breakfast tray on the bed over Claire, and then she lifted the silver dome cover from the plate. Samara smiled, "Viola!" All that was inside was half a gallon of Caramel Swirl ice-cream with a big spoon in it. 

Claire pointed at it, "Hey how did you know?" 

Samara gestured with her hand, "Ooh! That was no big deal really. Your plant asked me for it" Samara smiled as if she'd just said the most obvious thing in the world. 

Claire's eyebrows went straight up. ,"Um...what did you just say? My PLANT asked YOU...for ice-cream? I just wanted to clarify because it sounded like you just said some really crazy shit right there." 

Samara had an introspective look for a moment then she responded, "Mmmm yep that's what happened, and he woke up way before you did. I let him sun bath for an hour. He was really upset." 

Claire chuckled and shook her head trying to wrap her head around what she was hearing, "Okay wait wait wait wait. How did it speak to you? It has no mouth to speak with." 

Samara thought of the best way to describe what she was talking about. After gathering her thoughts for a moment she said, "I think it used me as conduit to look at things in the room I was standing in. When I wanted ice-cream, I went to the freezer and grabbed it. I grabbed a spoon because I was ravenous for it but somehow after I took the first bite I realized I wasn't hungry for ice-cream and it...well...it happened pretty fast but I was suddenly aware of your plant. I tried to brush it off but I got another flash of hunger. Once I was able to isolate my feelings and emotions from that of the plant's, I could clearly see what your plant wanted. After that it was all very easy to understand...basically." Samara considered what she'd just laid out on the table then nodded as though it was something children would understand. 

Claire shook her head and started in, "No no no no wait a sec." 

Samara jumped in cutting her off, "Claire!" she said wide eyed looking right at her. 

Claire stopped shaking her head and glanced up at Samara. 

Looking her in the eyes, Samara raised her eyebrows and said simply, "Your ice-cream is melting" 

Claire looked down and sure enough. She'd been holding the spoon poised to dig in but she hadn't moved an inch. Claire nodded saying, "Yes a fine point indeed" Claire began shoveling. 

Samara smiled and sauntered happily out of the room. 

Being in a particularly good mood from being the recent recipient of some really good sex, Samara went to her piano still playing a tune. The keys were pressing themselves down as the built in computer reproduced the classic song. It had a seven inch touchpanel that was inlaid to the right of the sheet music holder. Most people had more modern pianos that could speak to their owners and even strike up light conversations. Samara's piano was an antique and she enjoyed the nostalgia of having to actually push touch screen buttons. She quickly went through the menus of over two thousand songs and decided to play something from J.S. Bach. After making the selection she pivoted on her heels and went back to finish her breakfast dishes. 

* * * * * 

Two hours later Claire was finally able to get out of bed. Samara had disconnected her saline bag only moments ago. She sat on the edge of the bed with her shoulders hunched. Her head hung with her disheveled hair falling limp in her face. She moved her right hand up running her fingers through the unkempt locks to pull them out of her eyes. Claire glanced up at her surroundings. Her clothes were neatly pressed and hanging on the doorknob. Her shoes sat neatly below them next to her briefcase...HER BRIEFCASE!! 

Her Seedco sales team probably thought she was dead or worse. People that sold the seeds were never just killed; they were made examples of. You were never supposed to be out of contact with your team for longer than eight hours during a sale. Once you check in with them to let the office know your sale has begun, a clock starts ticking and after eight hours of inactivity they mark you as missing and you must show up to the one of the main facilities to reconnect. You were in essence "Dead to them." 

Claire hurried and got dressed. "Oh damn it!" She was so completely fucked. How much time did she have? She threw on her blazer and reached into the front inside pocket. She produced what looked like a long black playing card. It was her twelve hour bio-phone. After twelve hours the phone died and you could actually bury it in your flower garden with great results. The damn thing was dead. Had it been longer than twelve hours? With a sigh she began calming herself. There was no point in hurrying now, since her people had written her off. 

She wasn't sure how much she wanted to share about the crazy things she'd seen and the strange connection between her and Samara with her Seedco work associates. When she spoke to her superiors in the company, they liked concise information. The whole thing seemed so absurd and she was still unclear as to how much she believed herself. The human mind was so capable of playing tricks on you. 

Claire exited the bedroom holding her industrial briefcase. With her broken composure, she resembled a pouty schoolgirl carrying a lunchbox. She believed she should remain dead to her employers for a while. After what transpired here earlier, well...she could really use a vacation. There was enough money in her account to live on for years if she wanted to just disappear. She would say her goodbyes to Samara, thank her for her hospitality, and make a polite exit. Samara had been a very gracious host to a stranger and she wished she could repay her somehow. That was the bullshit story she was trying to sell herself. The strange otherworldly connection to this woman was too much for Claire's mind to handle in her exhausted state. 

As she rounded the corner into the den where they'd first met Samara chimed in, "Well hello, look who finally decided to rejoin the living?" 

Clare looked up tired and broken. She was ashamed of how this whole meeting had gone. She looked up to see Samara sitting in a lounge chair with a glass of wine. She was wearing some blue designer jeans that seemed to fit her body a bit too perfectly. It was topped with a loose fitting dark burgundy sweater that had a very large sweeping neckline and a turtle neck collar. The turtle neck swept wide exposing her collar bones and her right shoulder. Samara's straight black hair had been combed to perfection and pulled over her left side. It swept down over her breast with liquid smoothness and continued down her front to her belly. She sat with her legs crossed holding a glass of wine, her hand wrapping the flute carelessly in the, "I don't give a shit about the wine temperature" fashion. The corners of her mouth curved up in a pouty smile, the right side just higher than the left. She wasn't wearing any shoes and her finger and toe nails were a slightly warmer burgundy than her sweater. She thought Samara was a picture of perfect beauty. 

Claire felt drawn to her again even in her weakened state she wanted to smother this woman in kisses. Her heart sank in her chest knowing she needed to get down to business and somehow apologize for last night. 

Looking at Claire, Samara gestured to the lounge chair across from her, "Shall we get to the matter of business?" The poor girl stood dumbstruck. 

Claire's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She stammered, "Yea...ooh...I...eeerr...you still want to do business? After what you witnessed, all that I went through...with my crazy plant?" Samara nodded in understanding, then gestured to the seat across from her again. 

She moved into the chair slowly, to not aggravate her torn muscles with unnecessary stress. Claire's eyes narrowed and she inquired, "If you don't mind my asking: you are still going through with this unafraid, why? I'm a little afraid of my own plant now. I've never seen it do that before. I couldn't blame you in the slightest if you just wanted me to leave." 

Samara understood Claire's concern and the air did need to be cleared a bit she realized. She put her index finger to her lips, "Hmmm...I think there are probably two things that need to be addressed. The first question; why does your plant have a crazy interest in me? That question, sadly, I couldn't tell you. The second question; passing out on my bathroom floor after savagely attacking me...I think I can shed some light on that. When you went unconscious, your plants activity increased. It went hard again as though it had unfinished business. I took you into my back room and hooked you up to my EKG immediately. You were in a deep sleep but your vitals never wavered in the slightest. I don't believe you were ever in any real danger. I think it's a simple matter of our lack of understanding these beautiful symbiotic plants...of course I still want it. They are the greatest jump forward in evolution since mitosis. I'm not going to miss out on that." 

Claire knew she was right. She liked Samara a lot more for her courage. She had no idea the girl had such grit. She had what Claire considered to be keen observations skills that were uninhibited by fear; the heart of a true scientist. 

She smiled at Samara and placed her briefcase on her lap. On the outside the briefcase there was a five by seven inch OLED screen. There were no buttons. She touched all four corners of the screen in a coded pattern to activate the power up sequence. "Before we begin," Claire started as she regained her professional poise. Bringing up the screen with the waiver and liability information, she continued, "There are no refunds. What we are selling you, is this briefcase. What is inside this briefcase you take full ownership of upon the completion of the sale. (Seed sales were illegal but there were work-around options for large businesses. There is always a way when money is involved) I Claire Fitzburg, acting as a sound member of Seedco, sell you briefcase 15213-A...We have no knowledge of what is inside." Claire paused the audio recording of the virtual sales office for a moment. She looked at Samara with a genuine sorrow in her eyes, "I generally bring this up much earlier in my sale but...eeehh...this has been anything but a normal day for me. I feel horrible about umm..." Claire's hand went to her mouth. Her lower lip had begun quivering and she was beginning to cry. "Not now you big boob!" Claire thought. She shook head not knowing what to do. She felt the soft and warm hand of Samara touch her face. As Claire looked up out of her shame she saw Samara's loving eyes staring back. 

Samara smiled saying, "whatever it is just say it and we'll work out the details" Claire's head nodded in fast, tiny little shakes. She tightened up her lips and sat up straight. Taking a deep breath as she looked at the ceiling, then exhaled to calm herself. Turning her head she glanced back into Samara's eyes saying, "If you bond with a seed, you will never be able to have children. This process renders you infertile." A very dark look took Samara's features. Whatever she was thinking about was not pleasant, of this Claire was certain. 

Samara spoke quietly now and she spoke without any hint of emotion, "When I was sixteen I was diagnosed with cancer. It was to become the worst year of my life. There were three tumors in all. After eighteen hours of surgery, the hospital had performed the most major hysterectomy they had ever successfully completed. The hysterectomy removed my uterus completely and I had two extremely rare vaginal tumors, which were also removed. The surgery robbed me of most of my feeling. Maybe it was a careless surgeon's blade edge but the result was the same. No children and no sexual pleasure. Talk about your motivation to get into medical school. I could still masturbate but only with limited results. I could never seem to generate enough feeling to get anywhere near an orgasm. If I had never experienced one before my surgery, I would have been much better off...but I had, and I was God's new cruel joke on the world. As I was not able to effectively 'rub one out' anymore my focus switched to training my body. It was a form of release and I was relentless at it. In a year's time my body was streamlined perfection. Because of that, the boys came by the droves. I was pulled in by their beauty but when it came time to become intimate, I would crush them and go back to my studies. I felt there had to be a way to get my sense of feeling back so I shot through med school at the top of my class. The boys used to call me Sam Frost. They were more right than they ever knew." Samara leaned forward and took Claire's hands in hers. "Last night I don't know what effect your plant had on my nerve endings but that was the first orgasm I've had in fifteen years" Then unexpectedly Samara gave Claire a soft kiss on her cheek. 

Both Claire and Samara felt a connection that danced through their heads in a true kindred way. Neither of them could quite place the nature of it but at that moment they were just happy to bask in each other's presence. 

After the sales transaction was complete, Samara saw Claire to the door and gave her a kiss on the cheek thanking her before she sent her on her way. She was excited to get the seed growing process started. 

* * * * * 

Samara sat in her office looking into a microscope not two meters away from the bed where Claire had been recovering. She'd put the seed on a slide in her microscope and gently set the open briefcase on the bed. The seed was about half the size of a grain of rice and easy to lose $100,000 dollars if she so much as sneezed. 

It was peculiar looking. If someone hadn't told you it was a seed, you'd never have guessed. It was thin, long and seemed almost alive the way it was twisted into a circle. One of the ends of the seed came through the circle without touching any of the sides. It was stark white with a red stripe down the middle. She increased magnification again turning the dial on her microscope. She could make out the fibers now. "Hmmm" Samara's began murmuring under her breath in a subconscious fashion. Her brain was having trouble with some of the details. "The fibers don't even look organic...more like...Kevlar? Well that is definitely odd." 

She was excited to get started but a little nervous. She already knew there was one plant connected to Claire that was going crazy for her. What if the seed that bonded to her went wacko? She couldn't dwell on these things, she knew it wasn't healthy. The decision was made and there was no chance that she was not going through with it so...it was just a question of building courage. 

Samara sighed, "The hell with it" she had to get moving before she lost her nerve. She loaded the seed into a gelcap to reduce the risk of losing it. Looking at herself in the mirror, Samara took a deep breath and brought the pill up smiling at her reflection and said, "Cheers." Tipping her head back, she dropped the capsule to the back of her throat, then grabbed a glass of cold water from the counter and flushed it down. She'd been told that it was in many ways the perfect pill to cure depression once it started to take root...but she felt nothing. Samara decided to go get some food. There was a quaint little Bakery around the corner called Fry's Ryes & Sourdough. A quick trip for some good quality food would be beneficial if she was going to be laid up for a while growing her plant. She had called in a favor of a friend at work and combined that with some time off she had coming; in all totaling two weeks. She hoped she could get the process behind her and back to work before her vacation time at the hospital ran out. 

She grabbed her purse, stepped into her flip-flops and walked out of her Penthouse locking the door behind her. She stepped gracefully down the many flights of stairs, through the lobby and out onto the street. Outside of her building were beautiful cobblestone sidewalks. She took off toward the store at a steady pace. 

The Deli was 4 blocks away and it looked like it could start raining any minute. As she walked she thought to herself, "Maybe Claire unwittingly sold me a dud. It may even be possible that my DNA is incompatible for some unknown reason." That she'd wasted $100,000 was the very least of her worries. For starters, the hospital that she worked at was only a couple miles from her residence. If she had complications she'd end up there, exposed. Her career would be over. Samara shook her head. That line of thought was not healthy but she'd deal with that if it happened. Slightly panicked she widened her stride picking up the pace. 




Demon Seeds Ch. 02: Demigod in Repose



A girl of medium build about 25 was walking toward her. She had brown hair with tight curls, hazel eyes, and strong cheekbones. She walked with a very casual stride in her faded blue jeans and a tan wool sweater. Samara experienced the strangest sensation as the girl walked closer to her. Her skin tingled almost like it felt sunlight but much more subtle. Was this girl the source of the radiant energy? The sensation grew more intense as the girl stepped closer. The world around Samara began to slow down. The tingles on her skin shifted with the girl walking by. It was like a small fire passing by on a cold winter night. 

She looked up and smiled at Samara...this girl had a plant. Her name was Linda and she was visiting her parents for the weekend. They didn't know about the bonding but she planned to play with her plant every private moment she had. 

Samara stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Did she just read that girls mind? She turned to see if the girl was stopping or if the girl was going to give any signs that she also experienced something but this Linda continued walking unabated. "NO! No no no no that's ridiculous" Samara said brushing the whole thing off. She whispered to herself, "Bread...get your damn bread and go home." 

Samara turned the corner and walked into Fry's bakery. The smell of fresh baked bread filled the air of the shop. As always Fry was behind the counter. Walking into the store she noticed a line that spanned the entire deli counter. Samara winced, "Shit! I'll never make it out of here." She walked to the end of the line and stood patiently. Of course the line would be there; this was the best bread for at least 50 miles. 

Fry was watching her intently. He was looking at her like she had a spider crawling on her shoulder and he was afraid of how to say it. She looked behind her...nope nobody at the back of the line. Fry was a decent man, mid thirties, red hair with beard stubble, and he had the bluest of eyes. They made you think of the blue light that shines through glacial ice. She did not believe his story that they were real. "My good friend THOSE...are contacts." She would say. He never pressed the issue. He just gave her a smile and a wink as he handed her the bread. Today his expression was quite different. 

"You have to get out of here!" 

She looked at the other patrons. That was so loud. Someone had to have said it right next to her head. Her eyes darted, expecting to find some panicked individual. People stood in line and milled about like grazing cattle. Some were still deciding what they wanted, staring half absently into the deli glass. She paused for a moment trying to wrap her mind around what just happened. She murmured, "...no...That's not possible" and looked back at Fry who was still staring at her with that horrible expression on his face. "Was it possible?" 

He tipped his head forward slightly and his eyes fluttered a bit, "I'm going to hand you your bread, and you need to leave. Your seed is going to go active and you don't want to be in public when it happens. You are different from the others. I will say, 'Here you forgot this' and I will hand you your bread. You need to go and I mean quickly, HURRY!"...his lips did not move. 

Samara was extremely alarmed but she was a level headed person, she always had been. She managed to keep her wits even though the last communication bordered on the very definition of sanity. Fry held up 3 loaves of bread in a bag and motioned her over, "Here you forgot this! You don't have to wait in line a second time!" 

Well it couldn't just be in her head if he actually said it. Best to just play along she figured. Samara started to walk around the line, "Aaaaahh...Yes thank you Fry. There are too many things on my mind today." 

Fry almost looked afraid. His eyes were full of worry. She took the bread and turned to leave. Heading for the door now she lengthened her strides. The door was oak framed glass and had two brass hand rails that crossed in the middle of the door. Close enough to push the door open now she reached out with her unencumbered arm to grab the brass handle and watched an arc of light connect her to the brass with a loud pop. It didn't hurt at all but she heard a scream and about 8 gasps. Looking at the door handle she noticed a black mark where the bolt of electricity had hit. This was definitely not good. 

Her mind lit up with Fry's voice again, "Keep going! You just grounded yourself. You won't shock it again but keep in mind your mitochondria are completely out of balance right now. So do yourself a favor and take off those flip flops before you recharge your cells and seriously injure someone." 

Samara turned to see all eyes on her. She had to say something. She made a simple excuse; "Oh sorry I somehow managed to press the taser in my purse on accident" 

People shook their heads and someone mumbled, "Stupid girl" then casually the patrons turned back to their business. 

Samara stepped outside quickly. She could hear thunder rolling in the distance and rain trickled out of the partially cloud covered sky. The sun was still shining but the fast moving clouds were going to end that shortly. Removing her flip flops, she shot off in the direction of her house at a good pace. The cobblestones tingled under her feet. This must be part of what Fry had said was happening to her. The last intersection before her house was just up ahead. People were starting to move out of her way. Her face must have been telegraphing how upset she was. Samara imagined she must have been quite a spectacle running at people with her purse flapping and bread flailing. 

She made it as far as the intersection. Being terribly distracted, she hadn't looked both ways and started to cross a busy street with oncoming traffic. Samara had already sprung into the road before she saw the car coming at her. Time slowed almost to a complete stop. She could see the rain droplets hanging in mid air slowly falling. They shimmered like diamonds as the light of the setting sun shot through them. There was a car only five feet away from her and one across the street coming the other direction about fifteen feet away. If she lunged forward to miss the first car, the second would surely hit her. Suddenly she saw the survivable route in her head. The math seemed like something a five years old child could understand. 

Time sped back up and Samara sprang into the air as the first car laid on its horn. She planted both feet on its hood pushing up and backwards to counter the speed of the car. Her body arched in a forward direction and she flipped through the air with the grace of a bird. Watching the second car approach, Samara tucked her body increasing the speed of her rotation to gain the needed momentum to get her feet back under her. She unfolded and pushed off the cab of the second car doing a pirouette into a back that landed her safely on the opposite sidewalk. She sat crouched on her feet with the two fingers of one hand touching the ground like a football player ready to jump forward; a football player with a purse and three loaves of bread. 

Samara quickly recounted the incident in her head. Although this seemed normal at the peak of the event while she was in her fight or flight mode, it very definitely was not normal. In shock and disbelief Samara whispered to herself, "This...this is a plant augment side effect?" Her mind recounted Fry saying, "Your seed is going to go active and you don't want to be in public when it happens. You are different from the others." 

Taking account of the crowd surrounding the street she noticed people were all standing with their mouths open...staring at her. She didn't have time to think of another excuse. She felt another flare of summer sunshine inside her. This time it felt like the warm light was growing in her belly making her want to laugh. Still holding her purse and her 3 loaves of bread she bolted for her penthouse. No time to make another lame excuse and honestly, how the hell was she going to explain that away even if she did stay? 

Samara leaned forward into her run and she felt her toes grab the cobblestones. Realizing she could run much faster than this, her body sprang forward in the direction of her building. The wind whistled loudly in her ears as she shot down the walkway. Images in her vision stretched into a tunnel of light streaks. The door that she headed toward was the only image that remained clear. She wasn't sure how fast she was moving but it felt really good. It felt as if a large weight had been lifted and she moved with many times her normal dexterity and grace. Within a blink she hit the lobby front door and shot to the back. There was no time for the elevator so she hit the stairs and started running straight up to her penthouse. 

She hit the first stair and sprang upward. Samara landed on the top of the first flight. Her eyes went wide and she smirked slightly. This was going to be fun. She sprang up another flight, grabbing the railing only once to spin her around and set herself for the next jump. By the fifth flight, she jumped a little too enthusiastically and landed on the wall at the end of that row of stairs. Her body responded as if from muscle memory and sprang upward without hesitation. Samara watched the stairs below her as she flew through the air above them targeting the opposite wall. She landed like a frog on hands and feet, bounding again almost instantaneously. As her speed increased, her mind gained calm. Samara felt it odd that she was not bothered by the incredulous nature of her actions. Instead she was bothered by the calm and her feeling that she had done this before. 

Landing gracefully on her toes, Samara was in front of her penthouse entryway. Her purse with everything in it was on her left shoulder, the bag with three loaves of bread held by her teeth, and her keys to her floor were magically in her right hand. She reflected back into her memory and recalled the action. She had managed to successfully pull her keys out of her purse in mid air on her last bound. 

She swiped her key fob accessing her security door. The door beeped and the familiar sound of the magnetic locks released. She threw the door open and went inside quickly spinning to close the door by pressing her back against it. 

Samara took slow deep breaths to calm herself. She had no idea what to expect. She knew only that there were some people who had a lot of explaining to do. What was happening to her? The seed was making her feel well and at ease but the lack of information brought her back down to reality, keeping her mind sharp and aware. She mumbled under her breath, "Nobody said shit about this happening." 

* * * * * 

Steam peeled off the surface of the bath water in thick wisps with the aroma of cedar and sage filling the room. This bath oil combo was her favorite. When Samara took in a deep slow breath the desert wood odor filled her senses. The smell reminded her of a hiking trip that she and her friends had taken through southern Utah. She remembered a lightning storm in the distance one night. They all sat up watching it mesmerized by its power and beauty. More importantly they had their fingers crossed hoping the storm did not turn and head their direction. There was an old dead cedar tree close to where they had pitched their tents. They made use of it as firewood. The wind brought them the smell of the wet sage that mixed with the campfire cedar. It was a good memory that reminded her of true freedom. She knew that with being free, real and ever present danger was always close behind. 

She heard the buzz of the front door intercom. Snapping out of her daydream, Samara turned and grabbed her white terrycloth bathrobe and headed to the door. Still wrapping it around her naked body, she made her way muttering, "Who the hell could that be? They had better have good reason to be interrupting my bath." 

Pressing the intercom button Samara spoke in a cordial tone that was very much unlike her mood, CLICK: "Yes! Can I help you?" 

A male voice answered back, "Hello! Samara it's Fry from the bakery. I think we need to talk." 

CLICK: "Actually, No...we don't. Go home Fry." 

"Aren't you the least bit curious as to why I know what you're going through?" 

CLICK: "Nope...I just want my bath and a good night's sleep." 

"Samara, you're being completely unreasonable. Trust me you need to hear what I have to say." 

CLICK: "You are creepy and weird and I'm emotional and tired. Of course I'm being unreasonable. Now you seriously need to fuck off before I call the cops Frymon." 

"Frymon? ...why did you call me that? You know my name is Fry." 

Samara was a little put off by it, why indeed. 

CLICK: "Okay slugger I'm calling the cops." 

Samara was getting angry now but she didn't actually walk anywhere. She just stood by the intercom to see if he was still going to insist on bothering her. The microphone in the lobby timed out finally and she stood there waiting for it to beep again. She wasn't really going to call the police but she just wanted to relax in her bath and wash away today's stress or at least try. 

"Try not to freak out," Fry said but much louder and clearer and...very much behind her. 

Spinning on her heels, Samara screamed and jumped backward landing with her shoulders against the door. 

Fry was standing there in the middle of her foyer with his hands in his blue jeans. He was wearing a basic white T-shirt and beige Converse with an oddly concerned look on his face. He pulled both of his hands out in front of him, palms down patting the air in a calming fashion saying, "Just relax and listen to what I have to say." 

She turned quickly in a panic to run for her life. Fumbling for the door, Samara had the deadbolt unlocked ant her hand on the door yanking it open when she heard Fry say the oddest thing. 

"You've never had microsurgery...There's nothing wrong with your...eeh...sex parts." 

She stopped dead in her tracks. How the hell would the bread guy down the street know about her fight with cancer? She was a sixteen year old girl and she didn't live anywhere near this city when she was undergoing chemotherapy. 

Turning back again, anger replaced her panic. Locking her eyes to Fry, she slowly closed the door and locked it without looking down. Her hands did not fidget. She just knew where everything was at. 

Without blinking she walked slowly toward Fry wanting to throttle him. It was his reaction that broke her trance. The man was positively terrified. He fell to his knees and placed his forehead on the floor. He set his palms on the travertine tiles in front of him with his fingers stretched out. He was abasing himself before her. 

"Please Master I beg you, do not kill me. I live only to serve." 

"You..." Samara's words caught in her throat. This man's behavior seemed familiar. How did he get in here? The sliding glass door was closed and so were all the windows. How did he speak to her with his mind earlier, and how did she do those incredible things coming home? 

Resigned from fighting this man any further, she left him on the floor and walked into the living room speaking flatly, "Get up off my floor Fry and come sit down. I have no intention of...'killing you'." 

Plopping down in her favorite reading chair, Samara crossed her legs and folded her bath robe neatly over her knees. Her face had shifted from anger to that of an indignant mask. Fry scurried into her living room and knelt in front of her looking down at the floor in front of him. 

Exasperated she burst out, "Okay! You need to stop that. Go sit on the couch like a good creepy weirdo and start talking. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get back to my bath." Deep down inside even Samara knew this empirical attitude was all a cover. She had no idea what this man was about to say but she knew he'd be telling her something incredulous and difficult to swallow. She sat like a proper lady and braced herself as she pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. 

Fry stood up and moved slowly to the couch like a dog with his tail between his legs. Sitting down he slouched forward with his hands on his knees. The man swallowed hard and looked a little sick. She started to think that maybe she should have left him on the floor. 

She inquired in a softer tone, "Are you going to be okay Fry?" 

"Yes, yes I'm just fine. This is just very stressful for me." 

"Are you shitting me Fry!? Stressful for you?" 

"Yes! Stressful to me and you will understand why when I can...figure out how to tell you why I'm here." 

She crooked an eyebrow in disbelief then spoke, "How the hell did you get in here Fry?" 

"Actually you let me in." 

"The hell I did." 

"I can't expect you to understand but that is exactly what happened. Just give me a moment to explain and..." 

"Make it good Fry or I'm calling the police and you can explain it to them." 

Fry paused for a moment gathering his thoughts then he put his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. Nodding his head he began, "There's really no way to soften the information...crazy sounds crazy no matter how you bring it across." 

He raised his hands into the air with a squinted look on his face, as if he were trying to actually grasp something real out of the air. Then as he closed his fists he said, "Your name is Hypatia, you were the scholar in history but you didn't die like the lesson books say...you're not human." 

He waited for Samara to say something but she just sat there with a befuddled look on her face; her mouth hung agape. 

Fry continued because he knew she was listening but there was a chance that if he waited too long, she'd throw him off the balcony. At least that's what poor Frymon was afraid of. 

"You are a photonic entity, a being of pure light created by the Four Councils of the Ancients, over five hundred thousand years ago. You're a...what's the English word for it? ...a demigod...yes that's it." 

"Okay Fry, if I'm such a being, why do I not remember any of this?" 

"You're running a vacation program. It's actually far more complicated than that but there is nothing in your language that comes close to the process. The word 'program' gets the desired point across." 

"Brilliant! ...this just gets better and better." 

Fry put his finger in the air and smiled saying, "It is how I got in here. There's ...a...a maintenance door of sorts in your program. I simply uttered a phrase that put you into stasis for a few minutes, and then I walked in your front door and stood in the middle of your foyer." 

Samara now felt that Fry had suffered a mental breakdown and she was remembering things wrong because she was truly sympathetic to his plight. Maybe she was being delusional and enabling this man to really go off the rails. She had to start reeling him back in to reality. She wasn't sure how he got in here or how to explain the bread store but soon she was going to start sprouting a plant cock and THAT subject was one of the world's leading causes of death. She had to coax him to leave her penthouse somehow without upsetting him. He'd obviously snapped. 

After considering her options, Samara continued, "Look Fry, you make some really good bread and I love our little talks that we have but seriously Fry, if I'm a demigod I'll be fine and you can go home. We should meet up and talk about this another time. Why don't you go home and get a little rest my friend." 

Fry's head came up with an annoyed look on his face. Shaking his head back and forth he clutched the sides of his head and laughed maniacally. 




Demon Seeds Ch. 02: Demigod in Repose



Samara jumped in her chair surprised by his unhealthy physical behavior and his loud outburst of laughter. Unsure what to say she just sat with her fingers digging into the arms of her chair trying to ready herself. She didn't really know how to get out of her situation if he decided to attack her but her mind was moving much faster now trying to come up with an escape route. 

Fry took a deep breath and tried to relax. He was not getting through to her but he had to keep trying. Slapping his hands down on his knees, Fry looked exhausted and resigned. He shook his head with a depressed look on his face. He spoke quiet and serious, "Look I know this is a lot and you think I'm completely crazy but I was there when you selected this program. I can tell you so much about this life that you think is so real. Things nobody should know. I know you liked this program for its dynamic content. Your memories of the vaginal tumors, the surgery, your nickname 'Sam Frost', the whole thing is bullshit. It was a made up history designed to amplify your life here on earth." 

She was stunned. Now she was more afraid than ever. This Fry was not your normal stalker; he was potentially a serial killer that had been following her for a very long time. She wouldn't be surprised if he had a twisted sanctuary with pictures of her painted in flowers and human feces. Whatever the case, she was in real trouble and she was trapped without any way of escaping to the door before he caught her. She could use the master and servant thing to her advantage if he was so sure she was this Hypatia. 

Samara pointed to the ground yelling, "I'm your demigod, back on the floor with you! Do as I say whelp!" 

Looking tired and frustrated Fry rolled his eyes saying, "Really? ...you honestly thing I don't know the difference between the real Hypatia and the program? Let me guess; you think you're about to die because I'm ape shit crazy...am I right?" 

The jig was up. She grabbed the arms of the chair digging in like a cat and jumped, launching herself in a frightened run to the door. Just as soon as she dug in and sprang forward, Fry pulled a 1911 pistol from behind his back and pointed it at her. She froze instantly with her heart in her throat. 

"Fry please..." 

Motioning with the gun he said, "Sit down Samara. When I'm done talking to you I'll leave. If you run I'll just shoot you and you'll be dead...right? Because you're not a demigod are you? None of what I'm saying is real. This is all Fry crazy speak isn't it." 

Samara let her body relax back into the chair, horrified with her heart racing. She sat wide eyed and contemplated existence in what she perceived as her last moments. Nothing was going to dissuade this man from his current course. In his head they had been buddies for a very long time and the night was more than likely going to end with him shooting her then turning the gun on himself...probably sometime after he made a lean-tu out of her bowels and the couch, singing some chilling version of a nursery rhyme to himself. 

Fry spoke now that he'd pinned her down to hear him out, "You are an Omega. Your race gets vacation programs installed to forget their miserably long existence and for a few decades you get to be mortal or as close to mortality as one can get. The problem with these damnable programs is once they go active, there is no easy way to get the Omega out but we have found a solution. It's just frustrating and well...here we are." 

Desperately trying to get him to see reason, she had to bring up a subject that might completely blow back in her face. Samara spoke softly, "Well Fry hon, if it's so hard to get me out of this program, why not just let it run its course. If Omegas have unending life spans, then why not let the program run a few decades and terminate naturally?" 

Fry nodded his head with a hint of a smile on his face, "That is a very good question Samara. Sadly I cannot tell you any of those details. If I let you know what I know, your program could destabilize and damage your mind permanently." 

Samara figured she obviously wasn't going to become a lean-tu until this jackass was done monologuing but she would almost rather he shot her than fill her head with so much crap just before her death. She threw him a little sass saying, "Brain damage? I thought I was immortal." 

Fry nodded his head amused by her response. He chuckled, "I said you don't age. There's quite a big difference. No I won't say anything that will potentially damage your mind but I can tell you some interesting facts." 

He set the gun down on the arm of the couch and began speaking with his hands, "We gave Seedco a very rare seed that was unlike any of the others. Actually it was the only one like it on the planet. I gave it to June Bloodwine at the head of Seedco Corporation and she sent out her top operative, Claire Fitzburg, to bring you this rare seed. You should really take a moment and Google what these seeds look like. They're more like a small fennel seed. The seed we gave you was not a plant augment at all; it was a patch for your vacation program." 

Samara did feel a little annoyed by the obvious. Why didn't she look up what these seeds actually look like? She shrugged off the idea because if she inquired about the seed on a search engine and it was like the one she ate, it would only fortify the idea that he was delusional and cause her to panic even more. She had to keep her wits and she had to keep him talking. She was genuinely a little sad at the idea that she was not getting a plant. 

Shaking her head she used this emotion, "So I paid one hundred...THOUSAND dollars...for a patch? I'm not going to get a plant?" 

"You already have one Samara." 

"I...I'm sorry, What?" 

"You already have one. Shortly after you were created to subdue intergalactic conflicts, you took your first vacation as a Korinthian female and you bonded to a plant just like the ones these earthlings are eating. Nobody could have foreseen that the plant would bond to more than your humanoid form. The Four Councils of the Ancients expected that the plant would dissipate with the Korinthian body when you changed back into your photonic form but what happened was marvelous and the most beautiful and unexpected phenomenon. It stunned everyone! These plants bond to the DNA of their hosts but nobody could have guessed a plant augment could bond to your photonic core!" 

He paused for a second realizing he was getting a little too excited and his captive audience was looking more and more terrified with each passing minute. He cleared his throat again while rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans. 

Looking back up at her a little more focused he continued, "You see when you take a humanoid carbon based form, your cells emit a very faint amount of light. As you wake from your program, your body glows brighter and you defy gravity. Even your hair is alive. It actually moves like you are under water once you wake up." Fry was sure he should have left that bit out. He took another second massaging his temples thinking, "Good job, and way to gain her confidence! You might as well have told her that she was Rapunzel." 

Samara wanted to keep him talking. If she could convince him that she believed his story, she may yet walk out of here alive. She chimed in during his pause, "Earlier Fry, when I was angry with you...knowing about my cancer surgery, why were you afraid I was going to kill you? If I'm your demigod master, am I so ruthless?" 

Fry was glad she asked. His line of conversation was going nowhere. 

"Actually you are quite benevolent in your true form. The best way I can describe the problem is to compare you to a sleeping person. You're subconscious mind is awake and even though you're running this program it is always awake and ready to act. If you perceive anyone or anything to be a threat to your existence...you can potentially eliminate the problem without waking up. So I must be careful not to say or do anything that will set off this subconscious safeguard. The trick is to show you that you are what I say you are...and not get killed by one of your knee jerk reactions." 

Samara played along, "How do you intend to do that exactly?" 

"I have no idea but after today at the bakery, I knew we had to talk before they find you. We can't have you bumbling around accidentally doing supernatural things in front of the humans. It doesn't take them long. Once the humans know about you, alarms go off and..." 

Fry's expression changed to sad and he slumped into the couch mumbling, "And they will kill you." 

"Um...who are 'They'? If you mean the religious fanatics..." 

"No! I do not mean the religious fanatics. I can't say who they are. Just uttering the name of that race could get me killed...by you! More importantly, jarring you out of your program could potentially damage your mind and you're far more valuable than I am. " 

She had to give him credit. For a lunatic, he'd worked out all the angles. She threw the next logical question out, "Suppose I believe you. SUPPOSE...I believe you, what then? What do you want me to do?" 

"You? I don't want you to do anything. I need to speak to Hypatia not her program. There isn't shit you can do." 

Samara actually felt slighted. She knew that these adventures were only taking place inside his head but his answer meant he didn't want to share. She was sure he hadn't worked the details in that part of his story. This was his mind protecting itself. 

"If I could just think of a way to wake you up temporarily to give you some information! I..." 

Fry stopped talking as though he'd had a revelation. Murdering to himself he said, "That's it. I think I might just have a way to do this...I'll fire my gun at you." 

Samara felt a shock inside her. All of her problems were about to end. She knew she'd never make it to the door. She had to talk him down so she spoke up in a panicked voice, "Fry! There has to be another way. I'm ready to do whatever you want. Just say it and I'll help you work through this!" 

Fry looked at her with a blank expression on his face. Then he responded, "Yes. We will talk about this and I'm so glad you're ready to work with me." 

She relaxed exhaling a huge breath of air she'd been holding in. "Oh thank god." 

"Right after I shoot you in the face." 

Samara watched him raise his 1911 pistol and level it off to where she could see down the barrel. Her words caught in her throat as she was certain these were her last moments. She couldn't think of anything that would detour him. Finally in a reflex action she yelled, "Fry please don't...!" 

Her voice cut off as she watched him pull the trigger and the explosion in the chamber. The round left the barrel flying toward her face. As the bullet tumbled through the air she could make out FMJ on the side. The gun had a maximum pressure rating of 21,000 psi and she estimated the round was traveling at 832 feet per second as it flew spinning directly at her left eye. 

Her body began to glow as she bent time moving her head out of the way. The lead slug tumbling though the air was now heading for her antique reading chair. Samara furiously snatched the bullet out of the air and flew across the room knocking the gun out of Fry's hand. She lifted him into the air by his neck yelling, "Frymon! That is a 1921 English Georgian Wing Back Chair with Original Damask Fabric! Do not shoot holes in my antiques!" 

Fry's wind was mostly cut off by her grip but he was able to squeak out a barely audible phrase, "I'm sorry master...good to see you again." 

Samara dropped him back onto the couch hovering in mid air. Her hair moved like ribbons of pure light flowing under water. Looking at her hands she could see the glow that filled the room was emanating from her. She hovered staring at her hands and she muttered, "I'm a..." 

"Demigod...Yes master. You are and I live to serve you." 

She drifted back down to the ground and her light faded. Her hair fell back onto her shoulders like black silk and she felt the weight of her body return. 

Watching her closely Fry's face was one of confusion, "Eh...master?" 

"Jesus Fry I'm not your master. I keep telling you this damn it." 

Fry sat on the couch with his fingers on his chin. He muttered to himself, "Hmmm the patch may take longer than I thought." Looking up at Samara standing beside him he inquired, "Tell me what do you remember from what just happened?" 

Samara reflected back and said, "You shot a bullet at my face, I would have just moved out of the way but I had to catch it. You have no appreciation for the finer things in life. That chair is irreplaceable...Frymon..." Her brow furrowed and her expression was one of a panicked confusion. "Oh god, what am I?" 

"You are what I have been telling you that you are. I was hoping this would jog your higher brain so I could speak to you fully awake but...here you are. You are now the Samara program with Hypatia's ability. This is fascinating." 

"Fry! This is not fascinating it's horrifying! I need to process this and...and...you need to get out so I can have my bath." 

This seemed to jog his memory. Fry threw a finger up saying, "Oh about your bath! I brought you help. Well they are here to help with for a lot more than your bath but it is time for introductions. Loren! Stephanie! Come on in and introduce yourselves. 

Loren walked into the living room in long deliberate strides as she looked over her shoulder at Samara like a circling predator. She walked barefoot and made absolutely no sound. Her eyes had a slight yellow glow but it was the cool and unflappable hunger behind them that sent a chill down Samara's spine. This woman's body was lean and athletic, still managing to have a smooth hourglass figure. Her skin was deep bronze glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. She wore a tight fitting summer dress with spaghetti straps that fell just low enough to be considered a dress. It was a cream colored fabric, cut straight across the top of her breast line and straight across her thighs. She had medium sized breasts that had a natural teardrop shape curving upward at the nipples. Loren stood about five feet six inches but you'd swear she was taller due to her regal and dignified presence. 

As with Claire, once again Samara had that feeling that she knew this woman. She was beautiful with straight black hair that hung just above her shoulders. Her bangs were cut straight across and the rest of her hair was woven in thin braids with a tiny bead of solid gold tied into the bottom of each one. She wore thick black eyeliner but not too much in the way of makeup other than that. 

Bowing formally Loren's eyes never left Samara's. She introduced herself with a calm and unwavering voice, "Loren Nefertari my lady." 

Scurrying meekly behind her was her hand servant Stephanie. She was slightly shorter and less muscular. The girl was in her early twenties Samara guessed. Her skin was milk white and her burgundy hair was tied in a French braid that fell halfway down her back. The white gown she was wearing dragged the floor and had what looked like a thick shoelace crisscrossing up the front. The dress was of a medieval design and the long sleeves almost completely covered her hands. Samara assumed that this was a cult thing. The dress was obviously not cut for her but probably one of many just like it at some commune. 

Samara's penthouse was filling up with unwanted guests. This was not the night she had planned for herself. She was on the verge of snapping when Fry spoke up finally saying, "Well I have a large shipment of flour coming to the bakery and I need to attend to that." He bowed and walked out of the room. She heard him yell on his way out the door, "You've known Lauren for many years Samara! It will come to you, just give it time." The door slammed closed and the room quickly filled with an uncomfortable silence. 

Rolling with the punches Samara started the conversation with a bit of attitude, "So Loren...Nefertari, I suppose that's Egyptian." Giving her a quick look up and down she held her hand out saying, "It's not like I'd need to be a scholar to figure THAT one out." 

Unmoved by her sarcasm Lauren answered simply, "Nefertari means 'The Most Beautiful' and yes I am Egyptian, my master." Again she bowed. Her face remained calm and without signs of being upset by Samara's rude comment. 

Even though she had every right to be rude, Samara felt bad for her comment. She took a deep breath and exhaled saying, "Look I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be rude, I really just want my bath and there just seems to be no end to tonight's drama." She walked back over to her reading chair and sat back down folding her bathrobe neatly over her legs. It was a comfortable place for Samara. Just sitting in it made her feel more at ease. 

Loren nodded and said, "Yes I understand but we must pass through the crucible before we can come out on the other side. When we are done here, you have my word that Stephanie will run you a fresh bath if you so desire." 

Shaking her head Samara spat out, "No I would very much like for you to just go." 

Again Loren seemed emotionally unaffected. "My dear, I have always done Hypatia's bidding and I will continue to do so but the dragon inside you sleeps and I do not take orders from her vacation program." 

Stepping forward toward Samara, Loren extended her hand palm up saying, "give it to me." 

"Give what to you?" 

"The bullet." 

"What bullet?" 

"In your right hand my dear. Give it to me." 

Samara looked down and there it was. She still held the unmarked chunk of lead that she'd snatched from the air. Her fingertips holding it were slightly blackened but undamaged. Not knowing exactly what to do, she simply did what Loren asked and placed the slug into the palm of her hand. 

Holding up the lead slug and turning it slowly between her fingers, Loren inspected it carefully. "Hmm...Samara, just a moment ago, there was a man in your living room that shot at you with a large caliber handgun. You not only dodged the bullet but...you caught it. You snatched a bullet out of the air with such grace, the bullet is unmarked. Are you even aware of how precise your calculations have to be to pull this off? After you catch a bullet from the air and hover weightlessly covered in light, you're still worried about your bath. Aren't you the least bit curious about what else you can do?" 

Samara thought back. It all seemed so natural at the time but she really had no idea how she'd done it. At the time it was a simple reaction to the situation. She nodded her head saying, "Yes I suppose you have a point. I am very curious." 

She took in Loren's tight and muscular body. This woman could have danced ballet with the firm and perfectly shaped legs that she had. Beneath her silk dress, Samara could make out the shape of a half erect plant. The smooth round head pressed firmly against the fabric leaving a very obvious impression. A look must have passed over her face because Loren immediately reacted by walking up to her and she pushed her hips forward. Samara could easily reach over and give it a squeeze. Her fingertips subconsciously started stroking at the patterns in the chair fabric. 

Loren put her fingers together and snapped them. Instantly her hand servant untied the lace in the front of her own gown and let it fall to the floor. The young girl had a birdlike small frame and small breasts with just enough meat on her bones to fill her frame out. Her cheeks were well rounded and she had ruby lips that were plump and perfectly shaped. Her large brown eyes were filled with a meek innocence and a look of absolute dedication to her master .The girl was quickly on her knees beside Loren waiting for instructions. 




Demon Seeds



Thinking back she tried to remember; what would have tipped off a Good Samaritan to call their religious fraternity? "Aaahh," she thought. It finally hit her; she'd stood up to pee in one of the women's room stalls at the airport. It was stupid but she was in a real hurry and now that reckless decision was biting her in the ass. 

She was glad her little mistake only pulled in two really green agents of a militia. If she'd rolled the dice and pulled two professionals, she'd be tied up with a sack over her head in some random looking windowless van.

"Amateurs..." Claire whispered under her breath. She took a sip of her wine and let the glass tip up a bit far, spilling a little wine down her chin and onto her sleeve. She gasped, quickly grabbed a waiter, and in a distressed tone asked him which way it was to the restroom. She threw the sleeve in his face pointing anxiously at the stain. Claire had already cased the restaurant and knew exactly where everything was. The back door was service only and it was close to the women's restroom. The backpack she left at her table would reassure the men at the bar to think she was coming back. They would sit there and watch the bag for probably thirty minutes before they got suspicious.

She walked like a silly girl afraid of a wine stain until she was out of eye shot of the two men. Quietly she passed the restrooms and slipped out the back. She opened and closed the old metal door under the red exit sign as quietly as possible. With a bit of stealth, she would make it back to her rental car in front of the restaurant and be long gone before the men inside would suspect she'd even left the bathroom.

Once in the alleyway she could hear the sound of a dog barking in the distance and the buzzing sound of a line transformer next to the restaurant. A dying fluorescent light flickered, dimly casting odd strobe-like shadows on the building. A large pile of trash bags sat stacked up against the dumpster. The alleyway seemed so deserted that even the garbage man rarely came.

The predator caught her off guard moving in quickly before she had time to react. He glided in from the shadows with his well rehearsed technique. Erupting in a storm of violent punches, his fists impacted hard into her chest and she saw flashes of light from the intensity. His attacks were well placed; the first punch landing firmly in her solar plexus. Claire remembered hearing a strange hissing sound that she realized was actually her own lungs expelling air. The first punch counted and he drove it home. She was lifted off the ground by the second blow. The third and fourth punch came in quick succession to pressure points on her inner thighs. She didn't have a chance to fall from the lack of being able to breathe or the pressure points in her legs getting smashed. The assailant shoved her head first into the large pile of garbage against the restaurant's dumpster. Pain shot through her midsection from the punches and the sound of rustling plastic and paper filled her ears from her crashing helplessly into the black garbage bags. The smell of spaghetti, rotting vegetables, and...chocolate bleu cheese huffed out of the bags as her body flopped limp and paralyzed into position, leaving no doubt in her mind as to where she'd just landed. 

She'd lost all of her chi energy after having the wind knocked out of her. This gave the predator the upper hand. The perv had obviously done this before and he was good at it. No air in her lungs made her helpless and silent. She was well trained for situations like this and fought to stay conscious. The briefcase landed at the end of its chain and lodged itself between two bags of trash immobilizing her entire right arm. Claire silently mouthed the words, "Fuck! Really!" since people without air can't speak. "The situation just keeps getting better" She thought as she tugged and tugged at the chain to no avail.

She felt the fabric of her skirt flip up against her back followed quickly by the sharp pain from the stitching in her underwear digging into her thighs. The pain was followed quickly by the tearing sound of her panties finally giving out. She began to panic now that she felt the cool night air touching her exposed plant augment and backside. She was fully aware of what was about to happen. Claire tried to regain her footing but the man behind her pressed his chest against her back and drove her into the sacks of trash again. She cursed under her breath as more wonderful odors puffed out of the bags.

A sharp pain came from a piece of plastic being jammed inside her rectum. It was a squeeze bottle full of lubricant this predator used to fill girls up before his onslaught. As she felt the tip of the bottle leave her body, warm oil continued to spray all over her ass. The creep was making sure he could get in quickly. Claire moved to turn her body sideways desperate to buy herself time but he caught her and held her in place. Much to her horror, she could feel the man's cock, rigid with excitement. He used his hand to run the tip of his engrossed phallus along the crack of her ass. With the amount of pressure he was applying, the first run by the rabbit hole and the tip of the silk monster slipped in. With Claire's plant augment, her body was able to accept the incoming attack on her anus without damaging her little starfish but it still hurt. Her muscles contracted in a reflex action biting down tightly in an attempt to force the gate crasher out of her body. None of her fighting mattered. Having her body bite down on the head of his cock only felt better to him. He moaned in her ear applying more force. She couldn't win in this fight. With as much oil as he'd filled her ass with, his erection slipped inside like a greased pig. The large hunk of meat slipped in to the hilt unabated. She knew full well what a pair of testicles press against her felt like. This monster had succeeded. 

As the soft fleshy tip of his penis collided with her plant based inner cockworks, she felt her own plant getting harder and engrossing itself. It was the unmistakable reaction of two plants communicating. "This man has a plant!?" Claire thought. She snapped her head to see a man wearing a black suit, white shirt and a red tie. She couldn't make out his face but she knew he was the Seedco executive named Bill that she owed a favor to. This was no chance meeting and she wasn't being raped by a stranger; this was a man getting payment for a debt.

His plant was firmly lodged inside her and as upsetting as his method was, she was going to get this over with or it would just happen again. All she needed to do was say her safe word and it would be over. Claire thought as she braced herself, "Not a chance in hell that's happening." She knew this man well and her fear was slowly shifting. The mix of apprehension and excitement overshadowed her panic. As much as she was angry for this method of sexual pursuit, this was just how Bill was. He roughed her up but he didn't do any real damage. He had skillfully avoided all vital areas on her body but got his point across.

Her body began rocking back and forth against the trash bags as Bill's hips flexed, punching into her ass rhythmically. He had a fistful of her hair and she was his little pony. It didn't take Bill long to start riding her now that he sensed her submission, he owned her. His plant vibrated with a constant twitter inside her as it stabbed and retreated. He wasn't cumming but with his level of excitement, plant augments sometimes twittered like a low buzzing sonic pulse that tickled its way up your spine and tapped directly into your sex brain.

The subterfuge was over; he was not a rapist and Claire was no victim. Her own plant was rigid and dripping with excitement. Each time he thrust his buzzing, squirming plant, waves of bliss erupted deep inside her. She had to admit, even though she wasn't happy with how she got in her current situation, this was probably the most exciting sex she'd had this year. All of her senses were heightened from the initial attack. The adrenaline from her fear made her hands shake and her breath tremble. These stakes were much higher than usual. 

Risking sex with plant augments in public was crazy even if you took precautions. Being thrown into a chaotic situation with no controlled environment or backup plan; Claire was more than paranoid. She could easily cry out her safe word and she could end this but unlike most people, she loved a good gamble. Not to say that she was into gambling with her life but she would gladly do something this crazy if sex were involved. She got the idea that Bill knew that and this was his way of sharing his own need to take risks.

Her heightened senses were reaching out in all directions. She could hear a cat rustling for food in the dumpster farther down the alleyway. A young couple argued with their window open with the sound of breaking plates overlapping the words of the argument. The sound of the rustling trash bags and Bill's breath on her neck were overwhelmingly loud but she focused them out. All that remained was the writhing penis twitching vigorously inside her, her own rigid phallus, and the possibility of being interrupted by a random passerby.

Her unavoidable orgasm had begun to press itself against her highly trained wall of resolve. Bill was good with his plant. Each time he jammed his length inside her, the fat engorged tip punched her plant prostate dead center. Waves of bliss were pushing her entirely too close to a very explosive orgasm. She was going to squirt gobs of glowing purple goo all over the trash bags and their little charade would be over. She tightened her hold, flexing her PC muscle as the orgasm started but like it or not, she would soon pop. Claire breathed heavy gusts of air feeling her plant testicles pull rigid to her shaft. The tip had flared out hard like a smooth round stone and veins stood out over the surface of her plant.

Claire felt Bill's arms wrap under hers. He laced his fingers together behind her neck and lifted her into the air. She watched as the briefcase pulled loose from the bags in front of her just before Bill flexed his arms and her body folded forward. As he folded her body in half, her phallus drew in closer. It brushed passed her face and rubbed back behind her ear. She understood the plan now. He relaxed and then tipped her head forward again but this time she opened her mouth and let the tip slide in. With a little more pressure he flexed down in pulses and the head of her plant stretched her throat open. She couldn't breathe but she knew the lack of oxygen would intensify the orgasm.

Claire released the floodgate and she began injecting her stomach with her own vanilla plant goo. With Bills plant constantly twittering and antagonizing the back of her plant deep inside her, the waves of her orgasm seemed unending. Her ass had flexed solid and remained flexed. Every muscle in her body joined in, as the pleasure escalated in a chain reaction. Claire's face turned red and she groaned making a strange muffled sound. It seemed the harder she came, the harder he fucked her, and the longer the orgasm went. Her stomach tightened from the massive load. It was a bizarre sensation to have your throat painfully tight and gagging, and at the same time experiencing the greatest pleasure from your own Wang sliding in and out of your throat in fast one inch thrusts. All of this made possible with an assist from Bill, behind Claire fucking her like a frenzied dog.

As her orgasm subsided, the sound of blood pounding in her ears calmed and she could hear him moaning. She noticed Bill's plant was uncomfortably rock hard diving inside her with a firm and accelerated intensity. Bill's pelvis slapped hard into her ass and she felt as if he was trying to get that inside her too. His rhythm quickened and the loud slapping sound filled the alleyway.

Claire's orgasm was over but her plant still rammed itself down her throat in rhythm with Bill's intentions. With a loud grunt she felt bill go stiff, dumping the first large blast of plant goo inside her. She noticed his arms flexing tighter. In the throes of his own orgasm he was unaware how hard he was squeezing. Claire was very flexible but even her eyes widened when her upper lip touched the skin on her sack. She had actually split her testicles with her nose.

Bill's onslaught continued with plenty of grunting and more plant flexing. She could feel his massive orgasm was filling her with the warm plant discharge. She felt her abdomen expand and for once she was afraid if he pulled out too quickly, she'd spray glowing purple plant goo all over Bill and the ground. Behind her neck she could feel Bill's fingers digging in. Claire liked how kinky this was; being fucked while also being forced to suck your own cock to the hilt. What she did not like, was the lack of oxygen to the brain from not being able to breath and Bills lack of attention to this detail because of his massive orgasm.

The black was closing in from the sides of her vision and she was forced to make the hard call. Locked in a full nelson she yanked the briefcase chain and grabbed the handle. She pressed the button that released the sleeping gas and felt the micro syringe stab her wrist injecting her with antitoxin. Claire found it funny that she did not need the sleeping gas antitoxin as long as she was choking on her own Johnson. 

The antitoxin was an adrenal booster of sorts. His orgasm was coming to a close and he was fading quickly from the gas as well. With her added adrenaline rush she quickly broke free of his grip. Her head popped loose. The back of her head collided hard into Bill's chin with a dull thud, knocking him unconscious. As Claire's throat emptied, she took in as much air as her lungs could handle. Her plant augment was still spitting purple glowing fluid. Spurts shot into the air and on her face. As her nose pulled in air from the alleyway, she couldn't remember ever being so happy to smell rotting trash.

Turning her head, Claire needed to give Bill a piece of her mind. She fired off some choice words, "Look asshole I need to breathe! and..." She stopped mid-sentence. Bill's eyes were rolled back in his head. He lay flat on his back with his mouth open, his pants around his ankles, and his rigid plant augmented penis pointing straight into the air. Even though he was out cold, his plant was still cumming. In so many ways these plants had minds of their own. It bathed the entire alleyway in purple light. He was a prime target for the religious fundamentalists. As tempted as she was to leave him like this, she would be signing his death warrant.

Standing up, Claire was exhausted and pantyless in a back alley. Her erection held up the front of her miniskirt with three inches poking out past the hemline. The fat bulbous tip stood proud like a happy purple glow worm. 

Bill had been a real fucker here tonight and she wanted to bend him over and fuck him until he woke up, but Bill would like that and she had to prepare for her meeting with a high end client. Her debt was paid to this man and she didn't owe him anything now.

Grabbing the tip of her plant, Claire slipped the head in between her belly and the belt line of her skirt. The tip poked out but she pulled her already hopelessly disheveled blouse out and she focused on calming down. It took about thirty seconds for the glow to fade but Claire had herself sorted and ready to go back to her hotel in a very short period of time.

"Good!" Claire thought, "Now for Bill." She wrestled with Bill's limp body and got him all buttoned up. His plant augment was staying rigid, glowing like a beacon in the night. Claire grabbed the extra smelly trash bag that her face was in moments ago and placed it over his plant, then two more bags thrown randomly on top of him just for good measure. She had managed to paint a picture resembling a scene where someone had thrown away a perfectly good republican white man. 

Snickering quietly at how ridiculous Bill looked, Claire stepped over him and re-entered the restaurant quietly. As she passed by the bar the two men looked shocked to see her and immediately started in on the apologies with, "Sorry Claire you know the initiate code. We had to pretend we were killers for Jesus."

She did know what the Seedco initiates went though. She had signed the contract and become one herself to get her plant augment. Nodding her head she shrugged off the groveling before it could get started. "No, we are all good here boys. You two just need to get your asses to the back alleyway and go collect Bill. He's out cold in a pile of trash bags." She didn't need to give these two any information. At their rank in the company they just needed to do exactly what she said. 

Throwing her backpack over her shoulder she headed for the door calling back to the befuddled young men, "You'd better get him a shot of rum boys. When he wakes up he's going to be pissed." She threw the restaurant door open and headed quickly to her rental car. With a heavy foot, she accelerated quickly away from the restaurant screeching her tires and cursing about what a fucked up night she was having. 

Driving back to the hotel, all Claire could think about was how good a hot bath would feel; A hot bath with good bath salts and some form of ambient guitar music. The sooner she could get out of her spilth scented garments...the better.







Demon Seeds



Samara nodded and spoke, "I see, and how does it feel? What is it like when it's NOT being used? (Everyone knew what plant augments were like when they were being used. It was front page news for the first 5 years after they realized the potential for the plant).

Claire thought for a moment then said, "Hmmm good question...yes about that. You will be able to pee like a man but you obviously won't have to. Because of the obvious look of my plant I always sit at public restrooms...She reflected on last night and her stupidity at the airport and about being played by a Seedco rep. "I wouldn't call myself plant sentient but since the bonding process, simply walking through a garden is a completely different experience."

Samara looked a little perplexed so Claire added, "It's not weird...I mean...you can still eat vegetables you know? It's just really good in a very Zen way."

This seemed to be what she needed to hear so Claire continued knowing the next thing out of her mouth would have Samara eating out of her hand. She broke into a devious smile looking at Samara out of the tops of her eyes saying, "I know what it wants and... it can be distracting. It really does become like a part of you." Claire paused when she saw Samara's face. She was obviously sitting on pins and needles with THE question that always hooked customers. Claire raised her eyebrows with mouth agape as if to say 'go on say it'.

 "What do you mean by 'What it wants'?" Samara spoke quiet in an almost fearful tone. (Samara's fingers scratched her quotation marks into the air to make her point more obvious.) "I don't follow." She said timidly at a low volume.

 "It is so much easier to explain when I show you." Claire stated confidently gesturing to the back room.

 Samara flushed bright red and put her hand to her chest, "Oh I don't think that would really be necessary, I was just curious...eer you could just tell me really, I'm fine with that."

Claire stood up and took a deep breath of air. She then faced Samara looking directly into her eyes, "In a moment I'm going to sell you a seed for $100,000 and that is not negotiable. You need to understand what you're buying darling, before you make the purchase. There is no moral high ground here." Claire extended her hand and Samara nodded. She took a deep breath to calm herself then she reached out to grab Claire's hand gently.

When their fingertips got close a spark of electricity passed between them and they both unwittingly shared a memory; A vision of a pink supernova, the crest of the Four Councils of the Ancients, images of four robed figures, and a large explosion in deep space.

Returning to consciousness they blinked repeatedly looking at each other. Samara finally offered up a comment, "Wow! Some static electricity in the air today I guess." Then she placed her hand inside Claire's.

As Samara stood, her other hand held itself against her chest, as if doing this could help her be less nervous. There was something about this woman that she couldn't quite figure out. It was as if she knew her from somewhere. Like an old friend she had forgotten about. The déjà vu was there somehow but she knew for a fact that she'd never met this woman...had she? Claire just had a presence and a graceful manner in which she walked, striding across the floor without making a sound, the way she held herself, the angle of her chin, the slope of her figure, and more. It all seemed strangely familiar.

Watching Claire walk made Samara even more curious about this woman. She felt desires to grab her and pull the woman close, smothering her with kisses in a very masculine way. Women had never been something Samara was into. It was very abnormal for her. She blinked and shook her head thinking to herself, "Easy girl...what is going on with you." Claire's body was firm and toned. Samara wanted to hold this girl down and have her way with Claire but she bit her lip and suppressed the feeling. "This must be how men feel" she mused. These were all strange and new feelings.

The feeling, no matter how odd, was not getting in the way of her plant purchase. She desperately wanted one because of her past surgeries and her inability to feel pleasure. This plant augment might be the cure for her issue that modern doctors could not figure out. Nerve endings were such a bitch to rebuild with microsurgery. Sometimes in cases like Samara's, they were impossible. That was the world she lived in. It was the reason that she herself had become a doctor. It was also the reason she had illegally purchased a plant augment on the black market from this Seedco Corporation. 

As they moved into the library Claire noticed the drapes were cracked open slightly. Sunlight streamed into the room in a thin slice of light about an inch wide. She stopped and pulled them closed to eliminate any possibility of outside observers. Turning to face Samara, Claire brushed the front of her suit jacket and the pleats in her skirt in a formal straightening fashion. Her right hand slipped over the engrossed phallus hidden beneath. It was already mostly erect and pressed to the right side of her panties. Claire felt a wave of pleasure as her hand passed the tightly wound and anxious snake inside her silk underwear. 

She noticed that Samara seemed concerned with the curtains and why she'd pulled them closed so suspiciously. Nodding her head Claire explained, "I do this for my own protection far more than I do this for reasons of morality." 

Samara knew this to be true. She didn't see the point in this precaution on the top floor of a high rise, but she didn't begrudge the woman. In today's world, a little paranoia could be the difference between life and death. She nodded in agreement. 

The idea of walking into a beautiful woman's house, a stranger you'd never met before, and just whipping your plant out in front of them was intoxicating to Claire. Half of the time the client wanted to suck on it. Today somehow she was excited way beyond what she normally felt. She could hear her heartbeat. The blood pounded in her ears like a metronome with deep, lust filled intentions. She knew that she was good at her job because of her own sexual perversions but today something in the air was different. Claire took a sharp breath pulling a lungful of air through her nose. She had no idea where today's sex drive came from but she knew she'd best keep herself in check. At this rate she was going to squirt a load of plant goo in her new pink underwear. Her pink lace panties were tight and being pulled up in the crack of her ass from the tension her plant was creating. It was mildly uncomfortable and she was done with them. "Jesus I can't take any more of this," Claire thought to herself, "I'm getting out of these things as fast as possible"

Claire pulled her pleated skirt down to her knees. Then she grabbed the sides of her pink panties by the fringe and peeled them down slowly until they rested on top of her skirt. She then unbuttoned her blouse and opened the front like a stage curtain. Claire looked at Samara and smiled shyly. She tipped her head back down again looking at it with a carefree amused expression on her face saying, "Well that's what it looks like," She said giggling. It was a light purple phallus that shared an overtone of the same pigment as the woman's skin, with what appeared to be green veins that spider webbed outward and away from the main unit. 

It reminded Samara of a plant she'd seen along a river that had managed to grow on top of a rock. The roots had grown in all directions around the rock in search of softer soil. This plant however, was far more elegant and resembled a penis to exact perfection. From the shine on the bulbous round tip, to the many small folds of skin that gathered just behind it...this plant was a big fat penis. 

Samara felt her own sex warming at the sight of it. She thought the plant must give off some form of pheromone. Her normal reaction to this sort of thing was never this intense. She was a general practice doctor. She saw this situation daily followed by her telling patients to turn and cough. Samara ran her hand across her face to try and cover her mouth. She didn't want Claire to see her swallow and lick her lips. Unsure of what to do about it, she could feel a knot of emotions that was growing inside her. 

Claire held it sideways between two fingers and gestured to it with the other hand saying, "You see because we are connected I feel everything it does but I have the added benefit of being able to penetrate any man or woman I choose without any fear of catching a disease from them. The plant isn't susceptible to human diseases so it can't pass them onto me. Like I said though, I'm not a botanist so I don't know how it works. Facts however, are hard to beat and I can say that nobody in the last 10 years has ever gotten one."

Samara looked and said, "Would it be okay to touch it?" She had obviously become entranced with it enough that she'd lost her shyness. 

Claire looked down and smiled, "Yes of course you can. He's been trying to get at you since I got here." Samara nodded and reached out to touch it slowly as if she were trying to make friends with a dog that she didn't quite trust yet. As her hand touched the tip of the plant, it retracted in a blink disappearing from sight. Claire yelped and fell to her knees. Her hands cupped her plant in a protective reflex. She hit the hardwood floor with a dull thud as her knees dug in sending even more pain up to her mind. Claire spoke in whispers like a man does when kicked in the nuts, "Ooohh...okay...fuck you know ...um ...that...aahhh ......really hurt.

"Oh my god!" Samara burst out, her eyes darting around looking for any other symptoms, "Are you okay?" Samara asked startled and horrified.

"I...I'm...aaahh...I'm fine." Claire waived her hand and nodded her head as if to say calm down it's no big deal. She continued, "What's on your hands? Bleach and ammonia are the most common household items that your plant absolutely hates. When it retracts like that it doesn't get smaller it really just retracts. The more of it that's out when it happens, the more pain it can cause you because it ALL goes back inside in a blink." 

Samara quickly recounted the events of her day trying to make sense of it. What did she have her hands in? She made coffee, disposed of 2 paper towels and sprayed the counters..."BLEACH! It was bleach. I wiped down the counter tops after I made us coffee."

Claire nodded still holding herself, "Yep that would do it. Please just go wash them and come back....ooohh man that stings."

Samara walked out of the kitchen after a good five minutes of hand scrubbing. As she passed into the library, Claire sat in a large high back reading chair covered with a burgundy, embroidered floral print. It was done with the same color thread as the fabric to create a nice embossing effect. Her skirt was crumpled in a heap on the floor. Her panties hung loosely from the shoe on her left foot. This woman Claire seemed mesmerized by waves of pleasure. Samara could only guess by the faces she was making but the rumors about the excessive dopamine the plant released must have been true. Claire was stroking it now and it had become much larger than when she'd left the room. "Eeeer should I go?" Samara almost laughed offering to leave her own library.

"Come here and watch this." Claire said excitedly motioning her over. 

Samara slowly walked into the room moving from the entrance to the middle. Her view of the room panned slowly watching the girl in the chair stroke the purple, plant, penis...thing. 

Claire waived a little more desperately, "Come here! Closer than that, you're gonna miss it" the lights in the room were very dim and she wasn't seeing much detail. She was more than happy to get closer. Samara walked up and knelt down by her chair. Claire's plant was definitely responding to her touch. She was now no more than a foot away from the plant watching Claire stroke at it faster and harder. Samara was getting turned on a lot more than she wanted to admit. Her hands clutched to her lap. She was already wet.

It looked exactly like a penis, from the shape of the head to the testicles that hung between her legs. Then small purple lights began to trace up the veins from the base, moving like some bio-neon sex sign.

Samara's eyes widened. She spat out, "Is that...?"

Claire nodded and responded with a slight grunt, "Uhh yeah it's bio-luminescence. Isn't it just amazing?" 

Stunned, Samara sat with her mouth wide, "That is...absolutely amazing." Samara looked at it ever so closely. Claire's hand was jerking the outer skin and even that resembled foreskin the way it gathered, stretched, and moved.

Samara mused, "How does it look so much like a human penis?"

"Mmmm it share's DNA with me. It eventually gets enough of my genetic code that it replicates me...in a way that suites it...Mmmm that's how it was described to me." Claire replied smiling.

Samara reached out half way to touch it then stopped herself. 

Claire looked down and spoke in an almost purring tone, "Go ahead your hands are clean now." 

She extended her hand slowly to the head of the penis. What was this thing 10" by 3 thick? It was getting enormous! Samara's fingertips touched it lightly just below the head. The plant moved up slightly and the tip flared wider. 

Claire groaned, "Oh holy shit it really likes you!" Claire thought she might cum on the spot. Her plant just sent her waves of pleasure that almost laid her out. This was highly irregular and she looked at Samara with a confused and almost fearful expression. Her mouth hung open from the astonishment.

In contrast to Claire gaining reluctance, Samara was losing her shyness. Her left hand had slid up her thigh, sweeping her white sequin dress up and out of the way. Her fingers gently rubbed her neatly folded labia, still being held nicely together from her wet, satin panties. She began stroking back and forth touching herself with a light tickling action. She firmly grabbed the plant just below the head and brushed her thumb across the bottom of the tip. Bio-luminescence shot through the phallus; lighting up like a freeway at night on time-laps film. 

Claire let out a cry, "Ooooh my god! What the fuck was that!?" Luminescence from the plant was bathing the room in purple light. It began casting hard shadows on the bookshelves like a small purple campfire. Claire grabbed at arms of the chair, "Whatever you did don't stop!" 

Samara was really waiting for that green light but she felt reluctant at the same time from the obvious alien quality of this sexual experience. She couldn't remember the last time she was this horny. This beautiful woman with a gorgeous cock seemed so surreal to her. Maybe it was the whole forbidden fruit twist that made it more exciting. "A schoolgirl with a large cock...not unlike a Japanese Futanari character" she mused to herself. 

She noticed Claire was looking back at her, anxious for more stimulation. Her butt flexed forcing Claire's cock through Samara's hand. She felt the hard inner part of Claire's penis run past her fingers beneath the skin. She rotated her wrist as she jerked Claire's plant from tip to base. Spitting on it, Samara looked up at Claire who was definitely turned on by the show. Samara moved down and sucked one of Claire's balls into her mouth. Strange...she noticed the little guys were vibrating ever so softly. Time seemed to slow for Samara. She watched as the silk of Claire's plant sliding gently within her grip as her hand moved down the shaft. Samara swallowed reflexively and looked up. She found Claire's eyes staring back into hers.

Claire let go a little crooked smile and teased Samara, "you know it's a plant...you're immune to all possible diseases...Do it" Claire pressed her thumb to the base of her plant and flexed upward, throwing the tip of her purple excitement about an inch from her face. Samara really wanted to at this point, so it was an easy sell. She opened her mouth and extended her tongue. Being the sexual deviant Claire was, she thrust her hips forward quickly and the plant drove past Samara's beautiful lips stretching her mouth open and bumping the tip off the back of her throat. Samara's eyes widened with a surprised look and she yelped but all that came out was a muffled sound similar to that of pleasure. Claire grabbed the back of her head gently guiding her, "Oooohh don't be shocked. This is where it gets good." Samara sucked the tip in and out of her mouth stroking the base of the shaft and rolling her tongue along the tip. She began bobbing feverishly licking, stroking, and sucking. She slipped her panties aside and pressed two of her fingers between her folds, slowly grinding on the sensation.

Claire was breathing heavy, labored breaths and her plant was pulsing. The tip was as hard as a stone. Just as Samara had thought, Claire was undoubtedly cumming. The whole phallus was glowing like a purple light bulb. Samara looked down to see her little balls had stopped bouncing up and down. They were set snugly against the shaft.

"Hmm" Samara thought, "just like the real thing"

Samara was holding her mouth open while looking into Claire's eyes to amplify the thrill. 

Claire also had her mouth open but with a Billy Idol lip going. Suddenly her teeth bit down and her eyes squinted shut. Claire shot and it wasn't by any means insignificant. The first load shot up in a giant gob, filling her mouth and running down her chin back onto Claire's balls then onto the floor. The second shot covered half her face and hair. The third shot went down her cleavage like a full pint of yogurt. One final shot went all over the White sequin dress.

Samara was about to be sick. Previous experiences with men's semen had taught her that the liquid that shoots out of a penis is a salty funk with a hint of bleach. Assuming this was the same she reeled back with a bitter look on her face, "....eehhh...I think I'm going to be sick...I," Samara's eyes popped open wide, "Vanilla?"

Claire smiled cooing, "Tasty and sweet." 

Samara realized she was covered in glowing viscous fluid...that didn't taste bad at all so it wasn't so bad but she did look rather concerned about the dress, holding it out away from her where she could get a good look at the mess. She frowned then grumbled, "Oooh my Neiman Marcus."

Claire laughed lovingly at her, "Don't worry it doesn't stain hon, but we should both get into the shower. This stuff does tend to get sticky"

Samara looked down and she wasn't the only one with glowing streaks of plant cum on her. "Hmm...Yes we should" she mused as she smiled looking into Claire's eyes.

Both of them were naked as fast as humanly possible on the way to the shower. Kissing, fondling and groping each other along the way. They left a trail of clothing and glowing fluid from the library. By the time they were in the shower Samara had Claire by the plant stroking madly and Claire had a breast in her hand and two fingers in Samara's business. They turned and spun, throwing each other against walls in a play for dominance. Both of them seemed ravenous like wild animals trying desperately to eat each other, but condemned to only suck, lick, and probe.

Once in the bathroom Claire pinned Samara against the wall. Licking Samara's juices from her fingers, she kissed her and pulled away still holding Samara's bottom lip in her teeth playfully. Samara's bottom lip snapped back against her teeth. Claire looked at her deviously. Her fingers glided like feather-tips across Samara's perfectly smooth rear. Samara felt her fingers bite in and pull her hips into Claire's. Both girls stood close legged but Claire pushed her plant in between Samara's legs. It gave Samara chills. She loved that no matter how much she rubbed and stroked this thing, it seemed to always remain hot and wet. Like the skin of it was somehow excreting a natural lubricant.