© Copyright 2008 - Baubleheadz - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-f; plant/f; tentacle; insertion; outdoors; mast; mc; toys; reluct; X
Note from author: I warn you that you probably won’t get a lot of this if you have not read the rest of the plant series.
Plant(ed) 5.01 – Expert
I should say that by now I am an expert on the alien plants. That being said I am also an addict.
You see I’m a soldier stationed in the village near the crater crash site. My assignment is the most boring I have ever had, in or out of the military. The entire village population had been forced to move into quarantine after the crash and to hold up the appearance that nothing was amiss in this town we had populated the entire area with military folk acting as village folk. Most of the military folk had experience with this or that and were useful in the research or confinement of the alien plant species popping up all over the area around the meteorite crash site.
My job on the other hand…. “Housewife”, after all it would look weird if every single person in town went to work. I guess they had decided that I was not even useful for patrols or anything like that so I was assigned to a house and pretty much told to stay there pretending to tend to a baby or whatever. I had been assigned a “husband”, he was an officer and we got along fine when he was home, though that didn’t help my boredom at all. Most of the time he was out of the house “gone to work” working on alien research. This left me home all day, pretending to take care of a fake empty household, alone and bored.
The one benefit to my “husband” was that we had time each evening over dinner to sit around and talk about the plants he was studying. Since we were not actually a couple we were more like roommates, we didn’t share the same room so nothing interesting came of our “relationship” except for conversation. He told me of all kinds of plants he had worked on, and in some rare cases I had even been able to make some suggestions that paid off in his research. I kind of gave his research the “woman’s touch”. It seemed some of the plants had “emotional” responses to stimuli instead of just “responses”, and it took my feminine insight to point that out. After they began to understand that some of the more advanced plants were emotional they began to realize why some of the responses to stimuli seemed random. From that time forward he began to tell me even more about his work. Though, he explained to me that anything I contributed he would get credit for because he could never admit that he had been telling me top secret information.
Through their research, with my insight, they began testing the plants for intelligence and found that all of the plants found thus far showed so little intelligence that it would be a great stretch to say that any of the plants were as intelligent as even a small mammal. Most plants showed at least some basic semblance of emotion some of which could be described as want, sadness, despair, happiness, longing, and some rare plants even showed signs of basic laughter, and very low problem solving skills. It seemed the deeper into the crash site the plants were found, the more emotional and intelligent they were.
Through months of listening and learning I began to get more and more curious about what these plants looked like. Soon I started asking questions to my “husband” that I probably should not have about terrain, locations, security and things like that. Soon I even got brave enough to start asking these questions at the super market, the gas station, or anywhere else I could find someone that liked to gossip. No one seemed to notice that I was out of line though since the majority of the town had “clearance” for this kind of information, and everyone had loosed up and enjoyed the “gab” now that we had all settled in over the months. I guess they must have just assumed I had “clearance” also.
So that is where it all started. Instead of staying at home like I was supposed to, I started sneaking out the back door into the woods to the fence line and taking a peek into the “forbidden zone”. As a female I was not even supposed to be this close to the fence let alone peering inside planning devious acts. My military training came in handy many times as I learned that the patrols were not only lazy but sloppy. I guess they really didn’t expect any humans (or intelligent beings) to be coming up to the fence. Even the patrol schedule was regular, when it probably should have been randomized. The patrols spent most of their time looking into the fence instead of out into the forest, and every now and then one of the men would jump out of their jeep, spray something with a pump sprayer and drive off, continuing their gossiping where they had left off.
Soon I found that there were holes in the fence at places that nobody seemed to care about closing up, though rumors in town spread quickly that these were there to trick unsuspecting military women or civilians into getting caught crossing the fence. Upon inspection it was obvious that they were correct. The holes were booby trapped with shock tasers and alarms. This trap system obviously made the patrols even lazier since they didn’t seem to care a damn about the health of the fence. There were other places in the fence that had been cut and then carefully stitched back together with silver wire so that the hole would be easy enough to open and close but hard to see without getting out of the jeep and inspecting the fence.
My first attempts at crossing the fence met with some enthusiastic failures. I knew about the “bulber” plants, these were supposed to be the most dangerous for a female, probably because no one spoke of any female that had gotten past them without getting caught. Get to close to one when you are not paying attention and the plant sends up a tiny yet strong filament from under the ground and tries to find a vagina. Once it finds one it enters it quickly and fills up a bulb of water inside of the woman and uses the filament to draw her down to the ground so that it can do whatever it does to the girl with her ass held firmly to the ground.
When I went across the fence the first time I had on the tightest pair of jeans that I could find, I figured that worst case I would feel the “bulbers” climbing up my legs and I could run back through the fence, but I was wrong. I crossed the fence and turned around to carefully stitch up the hole while wearing my rubber kitchen gloves so that the electric fence could not shock me. As I worked the last stitch into place I started to feel pressure on my bladder like I needed to pee and my feet where suddenly whipped out from under me. Face down on the charred dirt I was being pulled slowly across the ground and I could feel a tremendous pulling sensation from inside of my vagina. I realized immediately that I had been “bulbed”. I looked down as best I could and I could see one tiny “sting” coming out of each of my pant legs, I had been double “bulbed”!
The feeling of being dragged across the ground by two something’s pulling from inside of your vagina while a tremendous need to pee distracts you from your shirt being pulled up over your head by the dirt as you are dragged across the ground is, to say the least, and odd sensation. I had even lost my rubber kitchen mitts. As my feet got closer to the place where the bulbs where buried in the ground my legs began to spread further and further apart. Soon I realized that these two were fighting to see who could get me first. Once my feet reached their respective buried bulb I did my best to stand up so I could at least get off of my stomach. Once I was on my feet I locked my knees, fighting the powerful pulling sensation attempting to drag me to my knees. I pulled my shirt back down and began franticly trying to get a grasp on one of the tendrils so that I could break myself free somehow, but the threads were just way too strong.
Soon one of the “bulbers” decided that it would just go get its prize instead of waiting for the prize to be pulled down to it. The “bulber” dug itself out of the ground and began trying to squeeze itself up my pant leg. One leg free I pulled my legs together somewhat and started pulling on the other leg. The second “bulber”, not wanting to be outdone by the first “bulber”, began digging itself out of the ground also. I sprung for the kitchen gloves and the fence and started to unstitch the binding so I could get back through to the other side. I looked down at the “bulbers” to check on their progress, or lack thereof and I saw another tendril trying to snake up my jeans pant legs, I grabbed a hold of it and yanked it out, I realized then that I could not feel it, I could feel the pressure it caused on my skin as it moved, but I could not feel the substance of the tendril. Throwing it to the side I doubled my work on the fence, checking my ankles occasionally for new friends, yanking them out and throwing them off of me. Once through the fence I could faintly see tendrils reaching for me, one of which touched the fence and ZAPP fell smoking to the ground. In the distance an alarm began to blare. Realizing what this meant, and realizing that the “bulbers” at my ankles where not making any progress up my legs (though they had managed to pull my pant’s ankles up half way to my knees), I stitched up the fence the best I could in my haste as more tendrils fried themselves on the fence trying to reach me.
As soon as I could I jumped into the undergrowth of the forest and hid from sight, just as the jeep was pulling into view. Three guys jumped out of the jeep and looked at the burnt remains of the plants, seemingly oblivious to the silver wire stitched fence hole. One of the guys commented that an animal must have walked past the fence and that they had better let the “Sarge” know. He mentioned something about “…must not have eliminated all of the large mammals in the area after all.” I lay perfectly still feeling the weirdest sensation as if my vagina was trying to touch my ankles as the plants pulled hard toward their goals. I was more than pleased that the guys did not linger since the two “bulbers” where doubling their efforts to get up to my privates, and I had a REALLY strong urge to pee, and the most amazingly full sensation in my gut.
Flipping over, sitting up, and pulling my ankles closer I could see these two little root covered balls pulsing and pulling at their tendrils. One of them had begun to elongate and now had half of its body mass inside my pant leg. Luckily its efforts to pull my pant’s ankle up to my shins had made the passage smaller, but if it continued its ascent it would soon pass the bunched up material and have little resistance left to get itself inside of me. Not being able to get a good grip on either of these fiends I was now frantic to put all of this to an end. I unzipped my jeans, and began groping around inside grabbing at the tendrils. Again I found that I could not feel them, but I could feel the pressure they presented to my finger tips as I touched them. This was a little disorienting but I managed to get a grasp on them both but this did me little good, if anything, pulling on the tendrils would only hasten their assent. Thinking sharp for the first time since I had passed through the fence the first time I grabbed my keys out of my pocket and made surprisingly quick work of the tendrils. As soon as they were severed I could feel them again but I was more distracted by my efforts to pull these bulbs off of me and chucking them well over the fence (careful not to hit it). The next sensation to distract me was what felt like “gallons” of water spraying out of the tendrils all down the inside of my jeans. Embarrassed more by what my jeans looked like than the fact that I had two alien plant’s severed tendrils handing out of my pussy, I zipped up and started on my way home.
As soon as I was in the house I pulled my jeans down and pulled the loose tendrils that had collected themselves in my panties after deflating and sliding out of me on their own. Realizing that I could feel them now, I wondered what method they used to numb the senses.
Later that night when my “husband” came home I found a way to bring the subject up and he explained to me that they used a kind of pulsed electrical signal to confuse the sense of touch. The pulse was emitted from the bulb itself and was transmitted through the tendril’s entire length. He also explained that the bulb’s emitter could be disabled by shocking the ground slightly or by creating any kind of local electromagnetic energy wave. He mentioned that even a cell phone receiving a text message was enough electronic noise to diffuse the pulses temporarily.
That night I dreamt of a “bulber” taking me, and entering my body. As soon as it entered my body though the dream would suddenly end and I would wake up horny as hell. Three times that night I had awoken covered in sweat and I had to finger myself back to sleep. The next morning I woke, served breakfast to my “husband” before he left for “work” and sat down to watch TV. It didn’t take two minutes into a boring show before my mind started working out an absolutely crazy bizarre plan. I just had to go back and visit the “bulbers”, and NOW. I don’t know what drove me to do it, but as soon as my plan was in my head my body was in motion. I took a quick shower so that I could shave myself bare below; then I grabbed everything I would need from the house, put it all in a bag and practically ran through the forest, stopping only when I had to, avoiding detection.
As I got to the fence I put my bag down pulled my jeans down a little (I didn’t wear panties today, I would not need them). I took my remote controlled vibrating egg, put it into my already wet pussy and pulled out a tube from my bag. Realizing I was too wet for the tube’s contents to work I pulled off my shirt and used it to clean and dry my pussy lips. Throwing my shirt down on the ground I pulled my jeans down even further and very carefully started spreading the contents of the tube along the inside of my freshly shaven outer pussy lips, careful to only get it on my lips and nothing else. As I stood up it felt weird, slippery at first, then as the super glue started to harden it was almost painful for a short bit. Well the stuff is not actually super glue, but that is what I call it. It’s an adhesive found in our military first aid kits that we use to glue wounds shut. The stuff is skin safe and not as irritating as super glue. I had now effectively and completely sealed my pussy with glue. Though, for only a second, the discomfort of what I had just done made me wonder if this was such a good idea, I was compelled to continue. Once I was sure that it was dry I pulled up my jeans and buttoned them. No way those “bulbers” were getting in there this time.
Grabbing my vibrator remote, personal defense taser, and military issued knife I started for the fence, having to double back because I had forgotten my shirt. I unlaced the fence ducked inside, laced it back up and stepped forward. I felt tugging at my ankles and found that some tendrils had already tried to get to me. Knowing that I had about an hour left before any troopers came by on patrol I moved out into the middle of the burnt ground and took my jeans completely off, and figuring I might as well work on my tan so I stripped off my shirt and bra also.
As I lay down on the ground I could see hundreds of tendrils coming at me from all directions. First they would touch my skin lightly, and as soon as they had “sensed” that I was female they would go into a frenzy looking for my vagina. All they found was a glued up pussy. Remembering what my “husband” had said about creating an “electromagnetic field” I turned on my vibrator on low. The egg buzzed to life inside me, and I found quickly that my theory had been correct. Suddenly I could feel every single tendril that was within a foot of my pussy. I could feel them touching and caressing my outer pussy lips, my anus, my hips and my thighs. I set my watch timer, lay my head back, and sucked up the sunshine while I enjoyed my new little friends enjoying themselves.
One of their favorite pastimes was to wrap themselves around my clit and tug a little before moving on to find what they were looking for. Some of them would just slither up under my clitoral hood and dance around some, some would move back and forth above it and others would just tap on my clit. I could almost feel the slightest sensation of the tendrils that were outside of the vibrator’s effect moving the hair on my skin all over my body, and, occasionally one would touch my lips but they seemed to know my face was not the right “end” of me. None of this attention, or the vibrator in my pussy was enough to get me even close to orgasm; it was just a pleasantly sexy feeling. I wondered to myself what had urged me on to do this. Just last week I was simply curious and yet a little disgusted by the thought of these plants and now I was sunbathing nude, legs spread wide enjoying the stimulations provided by my friends.
After flipping over to sun evenly a few times my watch timer went off and I flicked my vibrator onto high. Now I could feel the tendrils all the way up to the base of my breasts and down to my knees, so I sat up to bring my nipples closer to my pussy and I drew in my ankles. Now I could feel them from my collar bone all the way down to my toes, I was simply in bliss as I fingered my clit while 100s of little tendrils danced around my most sensitive areas, tugging on my nipples, “licking” the inside of my thighs. I came hard and just lay there, crumpled in a heap on the ground.
After my orgasm I laid on the ground too long and almost got myself caught stitching up the fence on my way out. I had played it close but it had been more than worth it. The trip back home though made me wonder if it had been worth it or not, it’s not fun walking with crusty superglue holding your pussy lips together. Once I was home I used a skin safe solvent to clean up my pussy, surprisingly I was horny enough again that I had to pull out a large rubber dildo I had. I went to the bathroom and stuck the rubber dildo’s suction cup to the top of the toilet lid. I finally took the vibrating egg out of my pussy and used it, while I rode the dildo to orgasm, to vibrate my clit.
Thanks to Dis Man this time for proofing this story!
story continues in Plant(ed) 5.02 - Expert Makes New Friends
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