Project Tendril Ch. 01

Oh, my God, he's curling my toes! Sonja thought as she realized just how hard she was reacting to his kiss. Oh, God, he tastes wonderful! Oh, God, I am in so much trouble...

Ken melted into the kiss with Sonja as if to take her beyond any imaginable limits, his tongue probing hers and driving her up a wall as she imagined it on her clit. She was beginning to feel a desperate need to get his pants off when he distracted her -- by sliding his fingers back into her pussy.

"Oh, God, YES!!!" she virtually screamed into his kiss.

He didn't stand on ceremony. He went straight for the orgasm, fingering her with such expertise that she felt driven to cum. He already seemed to know how and where to rub her and she hadn't even said anything to him about coming in from her left side and angling up.

I wonder if he's a mind-reader? went drifting through her head, right before Oh, my God! Cumming!!!

He wouldn't break the kiss as he drove her over into not just one, but three consecutive orgasms that rocked her from their liplock to her toes. She felt lightheaded and giddy... and she needed to break the kiss so she could at least breathe.

She was fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to get to the bulge she could see and feel, when the perversity of the Universe intruded.

His cell phone went off.

"Don't you dare fucking answer that!" she told him as she kept trying to get his pants undone.

"Sorry, Sonja," he told her, and she knew disappointment was going to come crashing down. "That ringtone, I have to answer."

He fished around in his pocket as she sat back, still breathing hard, still cranked and now very, very pissed. She didn't know whether to scream or cry. So she did neither.

"Yeah?" he answered, then there was a pause. "When?" and then another pause. "Where?" and one more pause. "Okay, I'll meet them at the plane. Bye."

After he hung up, he looked over at Sonja and took in the animal crouched in the corner of the sofa.

"Sonja, I am so very, very sorry," he told her. "I have to go. Look, please... just give me your number and I'll call you if I get back tonight. Hell, I'll call you as soon as I get back, whenever that is. Please."

"571-555-5689," she told him. "Can you stay long enough to fuck me? Please? Please fuck me, Ken..." She was begging and she knew it, but she didn't care anymore. She wanted him so badly, it hurt.

"I'm sorry, Sonja, really, I am..." he told her as he punched her number into his phone. "I promise you, I'll make it up to you. Believe me, I want you just as much! Please, don't be pissed... well, I guess it's reasonable to be pissed... just, wait and see. Really. I'll be back and I'll screw your brains to mush. I promise."

"You damn well better," she told him as she fumbled to get dressed. "Just remember, I know where you live. And I've seen Basic Instinct and The Burning Bed..." She laughed nervously at her veiled threat.

Ken smiled, though. "Trust me, I hear you," he told her. "I'll call as soon as I'm back. In the meantime, you can keep my slow-cooker hostage."

"Oh, great..." Sonja drawled with exaggerated annoyance. "You're leaving me to do the dishes..."

Ken stood up and straightened himself -- Sonja was gratified to see that he was still rock hard and confirmed her suspicions that he was rather well hung -- and came over to her, leaning down and giving her one more, curl-the-toes passionate kiss.

"Thanks for a great dinner," he told her. "We'll finish dessert later. I'll let myself out." With that, he turned and headed on out the door, leaving Sonja to wonder at what had just happened.

Well, I guess when you work for the NSA... she thought as she resigned herself to cleaning up.

* * * * *

Somewhere in the middle of the night, Sonja woke to the strangest feeling. She couldn't move. At all.

Something was holding her down. And the sensation of being fucked by Ken that she'd been dreaming about wasn't going away. Someone was fucking her.

Panic set in. And scared anger.

"Okay, Ken, not funny!" she called out in the dark. "You were supposed to call when y..."

Thmmmppp! Something got stuck in her mouth, gagging her.

What the fuck is going on? she thought wildly. Why do I... oh, God! Cumming!

The waves of the orgasm washed over her and she writhed on the bed, restrained from thrashing around or even resisting the persistent stimulation.

She forced herself to calm down enough to think, to try to analyze her situation, although the continuous fucking was severely distracting. She willed herself to concentrate on seeing in the little bit of moonlight coming in the window. The first thing she noticed was that the ropes holding her down were actually tendrils of ivy. Hedera Helix ivy, to be exact. One very big, mahunga Hedera Helix ivy.

That's got to be the one from the lab, she thought. It's the only one I've got. What the fuck?

She noticed it was still in its pot on her dresser, but now it extended throughout most of the room and a lot of it was busy securing her wrists and ankles to the bedposts. And the gag in her mouth? It smelled like hibiscus. It tasted like hibiscus. It was hibiscus! A large, thick hibiscus with its swollen pistil stuck in her mouth! Maybe it would pull out if she chewed on it...

She tried that and it worked... sort of. The plant withdrew but hovered nearby, ready to pounce if she tried to cry out. It did allow her a certain amount of movement of her head and she could finally see past her tits -- and wished she hadn't. She saw the fucking anthurium from the lab. Literally. The anthurium from the lab was fucking her with its inflorescence. And doing one hell of a job. Its spadix was thoroughly buried in her and its spathe was sucking on her labia like a vacuum cleaner.

It was bad enough she was already cranked and frustrated from the aborted attempt with Ken. Now her own plants were raping her and getting her off like crazy. It was hard to stay scared and pissed when you were cumming your brains out. She knew she'd gone round the bend when she started to worry that they'd stop.

Oh, God... she thought as the realization dawned. These are all the plants from the alien DNA project. They've gone nuts! What the fuck happened? She looked at the three plants working in concert to sexually assault her. Well, at least the fern... she paused and looked over at her dresser. And froze.

The fern was easily ten times its original size and was sending out runners, arching their way over to her, the broad leaves beginning to dangle above her.

Oh, fuck... she thought. Spores.

Sure enough, as the big Boston swordfern reached her abdomen, it started to shiver and she could just barely see the fine cloud shimmering in the moonlight as it descended to rest all over her and the bed. She could almost feel them migrating to the anthurium which was dutifully still fucking her, and thereby introducing the spores into her pussy.

I guess this is where I get really scared, she thought to herself. I'm being raped and impregnated by alien slime, courtesy of my houseplants. This is way, way too weird.

That was also the point at which the plants cranked it up another notch. The anthurium started fucking her like a piston-driven machine until Sonja lost all ability to do anything but cum -- again and again and again. She was helpless to stop it and she prayed that they needed her alive because she was going to pass out and was going to be of zero use in resisting them.

In fact, it didn't take much longer before the black velvet curtain of blessed relief fell over her and she didn't know anything more.

[to be continued]