When Plants Attack!

by XTremeInk

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including NonConsensual, Rape, Drunk/Drugged, Science Fiction, BDSM, Sadistic, Torture, Water Sports, Needles, .

Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Linda Orlando discovers that sometimes being a reporter isn't so much fun. F/plant

Dr. Virginia Weston pulled out of the driveway of her gated mansion and sped off to her conference. She shifted in her seat a bit, her body sore and bruised. She smiled with contentment, her abraded pussy getting wet as she remembered her latest session with her 'pets'.

The Doctor was brilliant. In fact, she made most geniuses look positively stupid. Her area of expertise was combining plant and animal DNA to produce a combination of both. Needless to say, the actual explanation was extremely technical, and most people could barely follow even the most simple aspects of her work. The results of said work were, however, nothing short of miraculous.

Most people either loved what she did, or hated it, and her, with a passion. Most religious groups considered her an incarnation of evil and had lobbied to get all of her work abolished. That was one reason she was working in South America. The United States had the money to support her research, but it was turning rapidly into a techno-phobic theocracy.

Garnering the displeasure of the CCCP or Christian Conservative Coalition Party, hadn't stopped oil companies and pharmaceuticals firms from seeking her out for her work, which had yielded an amazing number of breakthroughs for them. As a result, she was extremely well off. The European government had offered her large tracts of land and tons of money, if she would move there to continue her work, but she'd turned them down. Her plants grew better south of and near the equator.

Dr. Weston was a very private person. She rarely left her compound unless it was to speak at a conference. She knew very well that if any of her... personal interests... were discovered, she'd lose some of her sponsors, and even with the amount of her personal fortune, she still prefered that someone else foot the bill for her research. Of course, there was always her private lab, and the pets that she produced there.

So the good Doctor was rich, brilliant, innovative and seriously perverted. But, as smart as she was, she'd didn't remember the moral of Jurassic Park. No, not the 'Never underpay your programmers' moral. The other one. "Nature will find a way."

Linda Orlando was not having a good day. Not at all. She was stuck out here on this God forsaken assignment, in this ass-backward fucking country having to live in a fucking SHACK that, as of this morning, had NO FUCKING WATER!

They were in a fucking rain forest! Why the fuck couldn't they keep running water working in the useless shack that she was staying in was beyond her. Fucking stupid natives.

Today had to be a Monday, because no other day could be so fucked up. Really, what else could go wrong? She'd run out of anti-antiperspirant, and it was hot as hell in this god forsaken JUNGLE and she was sweating like a pig AND there was no fucking place to buy more. At least until she could get to a town. Her period had started, so in addition to the horrible cramps it always brought, she had managed to misplace her box of tampons. She had none, and all of her panties were white (what the hell had she been thinking when she packed?) and expensive. She wasn't going to ruin them, and so had taken them off after the paper napkins she'd stuffed inside had ceased absorbing her copious flow.

Then there was this path she was on. Well, the path she had been on. It had disappeared, and she was now completely lost. And it got better. When they'd said there was a path to Doctor Weston's house, she assumed they'd meant a fucking PAVED path. She should have known better, and thank God she'd decided not to wear her heels. Sandals were bad enough. Well, sandals, a short skirt (rumor had it that the Doctor liked women in short skirts, and Linda knew she looked damn good in one), and an almost see-through blouse (no bra) that was now approaching see-through since she was soaked in sweat. Such was the price for an interview with the good Doctor.

Thank god for the small GPS locater she had, which currently showed that she should be on the Doctor's property. Not that you'd know it, since it looked just like the rest of the jungle.

Ah ha! She looked around as she stumbled into a small clearing. The GPS unit showed that the house should be around here somewhere. She took one step toward the direction of the house, and something wrapped around her neck. She panicked and grabbed it, only to find that somehow a vine had gotten entangled around her neck.

What the fuck?!

The vine -- wide, flat and supple, tightened and started to pull her backward. She dropped the GPS and her purse, and tried to fight it, getting no where for her trouble. She could barely breathe, her face was turning red and she was terrified. The panic was using her oxygen even faster.

Her vision was starting to dim, and she realized that she had been pulled into a shaded area. It was even hotter in here than it had been in the sun. More humid too. She tried to turn and see what was going on, but felt something push against her carotid arteries, almost like her pulse was being taken. Then she felt a prick on both sides of her neck and panicked.

Something hot was being pumped into her arteries. Now she was really panicking, but her body quickly lost the ability to move. Her mind was perfectly clear, and she could feel everything, but she couldn't move. Finally, her struggles stopped and she slumped to the ground, the vine following her down so she didn't choke to death by hanging from her neck. It even loosened a bit, but didn't unwrap.

More leafless vines, like the one around her neck, slid toward her paralyzed body. Linda was terrified, but, for some reason, the heat of whatever had been injected into her body, had rapidly settled in her breasts and groin. She was getting aroused. Very aroused.

The new vines wrapped around her wrists, seemingly softer than wood that thick should be. More wrapped around her ankles and she was pulled once again to her feet, arms and legs spread wide. More tendrils, these with odd shaped leaves at the ends, slid down out of the trees and bushes she was surrounded by. They touched her clothing, but seemed confused by it.

How, Linda thought muzzily, a plant could be confused by anything was beyond her, but that's what it seemed like to her.

She was right. They were confused. This plant grouping was a wild offshoot of the plant/animal combination that Doctor Weston had created to satisfy her own very perverted urges. The urge for sexual satisfaction, for pain, for the feeling of being used with no regard for what she wanted. To feel degraded and defiled. And really, how much lower could one get, than to be used as plant food while still alive?

The plants the Doctor had created lived off sunlight and the normal things that all plants needed. But they were also specially modified to seek out the various fluids produced by a sexually aroused female; like sweat and vaginal mucus. But they also craved the urine that a female had in her bladder -- even the shit in her bowels. The doctor had been especially pleased by the urine handling aspects of her plants. They would force her to recycle it through her own body until it was strong enough to be 'tasty' to them.

Once a month, the Doctor gave her pets a real treat when she menstruated. They didn't like the taste of straight blood from the vein, but they really loved menstrual blood and would thoroughly clean it out of her.

Not only that, but the Doctor had tuned the plants to respond to the feel of sexual energy produced by their food. The plants picked up the nerve impulses as they zipped along their food's nervous system, and the plants were very good at figuring out ways of increasing the energy. They adapted quickly to get the most out of their 'food'.

In fact, the plants had mutated enough to actually begin to produce fluids, which when injected into the food's body, enabled longer, very strong orgasms, a greater production of cunt juice and sex organs that were more responsive.

Some of the changes were becoming permanent, but the Doctor didn't care. It was all to the good, as far as she was concerned, and, in fact, she'd even encoded the modified DNA to make the plant's injections more potent.

Of course, the Doctor also had safeguards. She had no idea how long the plants would 'feed' on a victim, and didn't want to find out the hard way. So, she rigged special lights which would force the plants into quiescence after a certain amount of time. The Doctor knew that she would never be held more than four hours, or for less than one.

However, the plant that Linda had been caught by was not limited by special lights on a timer. Not only that, but, being wild, it's 'venom' was more potent, and it was far more hungry, having never been 'fed' like the indoor plants were. The Doctor, had she known that somehow some of her creations had escaped, would have found them and torched them. But, alas, she had no idea that was the case.

The final difference between the wild plants and the tame ones, was that since they were wild, there was no way to stop them once they started in on a victim.

The vines with the odd leaves on the end hovered over Linda, then moved a side a little. Linda's eyes widened as she saw another vine come towards her, this one with what looked like a sharp stick at the end. Her terror increased, and the plant's color grew slightly greener as it fed. Terror and sexual excitement combined was a fantastic mix, as far as it was concerned.

.... There is more of this story ...

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