DAY 70

The days after losing her arms and legs Rose regretted not having asked before. The stumps had healed very quickly and without scarring and now she just looked to had been born without limbs. Being only a torso she felt contradictorily freer, standing straight on her pot like a proper plant should. In hindsight, she thought she should have asked as soon as she was planted.

Her new body had also the added benefit of improving her sex life. Now that her limbs weren't in the way, William or Mateson could bend her still flexible body and trunk backwards to easily reach her mouth, without needing the stool to get to the correct height and angle.




William in particular had increased the frequency of his skullfucking sessions and, being better aligned for his cock when positioned that way, she could feel his meat sausage stretch her throat all the way down her stomach in an unimpeded straight line. That position allowed him to increase the strength with which he pounded her, and she enjoyed his unrestrained brutality as his balls smacked her nostrils and his cock left her throat raw.

The young scientist was in that way occupied, banging Rose skull in one of his idle hours when Mateson approached the stuffed girl from the front to check on the long dildo spearing her urethra. The outline of the soft rubber dong was perfectly visible, its shape traversing the mound of Rose's lumpy belly up to her ribcage.

Like a dog cock, in order to secure the toy inside her, a small inflatable bulb at its base kept the dildo firmly anchored inside her, so Mateson turned a knob at the bottom to let the air out and allow its removal.

With a dirty wet sound, Mateson withdrew the plastic appliance from the girl's piss tube, prompting a golden stream to flow leisurely from the, almost three inches wide, raw hole.

"I think she is ready" he commented.

"Do you think so, boss?" William asked.

"Only one way to find" Mateson smiled "it's not like she won't heal even if I'm wrong".

Rose's throat was massaging William's cock as expertly as always, the peristaltic contractions wringing it from the root to the head in the well practised motions that mimicked swallowing. That she didn't need to take a breath had increased her performance so much it seemed almost ridiculous.

While Mateson unfastened his pants, William came hard with a grunt just inside Rose's stomach, adding another serving of cum for the tendril inside to help digest. Totally spent, he slowly extracted his cock from the hot tight tube that for so long had doubled as her occupied vagina and asshole. Not anymore, if Mateson was right about her peehole.

As his gigantic cock left Rose's mouth, William could feel her tongue trying to clean every last trace of his essence mixed with her stomach sludge. Her gums tickled his glans on its way out, the rubbery texture pressuring his most sensible spots without making any damage, Rose having teased them with playful harmless bites.

"Are you going to put your dick inside my peehole at last?" she asked looking at Mateson, now that her mouth was vacated.

"Yes, right away, if William is so kind of keeping you in that position"

"Of course doc" he replied, putting his hands on Rose's shoulders, maintaining her almost horizontal position and, at the same time, inching his torso forward to avoid missing any of the action.

Mateson's cock was significantly thicker than the last toy he had just extracted, but he liked his holes tight and time was running low for him to enjoy this particular fetish. Rose had already passed the halfway mark of her transformation process, and her human flesh wouldn't last much longer.



Carefully, the old scientist angled his penis until the head rested at the very entrance of her piss chute, and lubricated his glans with the never-ending trickle of her urine. Once he was sure he was positioned just right, he warned the little girl.

"Prepare yourself, Rose".

Unwilling to wait a minute longer, he decided to ditch any semblance of care and rammed his rock hard cock to the hilt, full strength, in a single movement, making Rose gasp in shock at the brutal intrusion.

It was definitely thicker than all the previous training toys she had experienced. Her silent scream was the consequence of thousand of muscle fibres giving way and rupturing at the same time, the inner mucosa tearing alongside them in dozens of places and soaking in the highly acidic piss that coated the passage.

Mateson was just keeping his cock buried and her urethra already burned like all fires of hell. Her sphincter had been completely obliterated by the initial thrust, the ring of muscle shredded to pieces, never to close again. Her bladder had followed suit, taking on the shape of the scientist's cock, it became similarly ruined, the ureters almost torn apart from it by the extreme distortion of the organ. The top of her bladder was now buried past her flexible diaphragm, poking her fluttering heart and robbing her of the capacity to articulate any sound.

The mad doctor was just standing still, marvelling at how the beat of her heart stimulated his glans like a vibrator, enjoying the sight of poor Rose trying to scream uselessly. Unable to utter a sound, she just went for the next best, and vomited almost all the contents of her stomach on William's legs.

She kept retching for a long time, until her digestive tract had emptied itself of its foul contents and the muscles of her abdomen had settled. Having regained part of her wits, thanks in no smaller part to Mateson keeping mercifully motionless, Rose could raise her head again and winked feebly at her torturer in reassurance, even if her face was a mess of brown and yellow runny chunks that kept flowing from her mouth and nostrils.

The whole ordeal was painful as fuck, but for Rose that just meant enhanced pleasure instead of torture. Now that she could concentrate on the hot meat rod inside her innards, she couldn't suppress a smile of delight at how her belly had taken the shape of the cock, its tip touching her heart. It was the deepest connection she had ever felt with any human being, and it moved her to tears to have such caring scientists as her handlers. She was a very lucky test subject indeed, and she hoped her good sister Chloe would find someone as good as them.

Having confirmed that she had accustomed to the flesh spear, Mateson started to move his hips slowly at first, increasing the pace as the blood and pee lubricated his cock. He soon settled into a constant pistoning motion that threatened to drive little Rose mad.

The diminutive redhead was enjoying the ride of her life. Mateson's equine sized member, having stretched the passage past the point of rupture, moved in and out meeting absolutely no resistance. Even if she tried to clench her urethra to give the doctor more friction, her torn muscles wouldn't respond to her commands. Each movement of his penis scrubbed raw the fresh cuts, rubbing away the newest layer of healing blood sap and drenching them in piss once more. The fire that coursed through the length of the flesh sock that her urinary tract had become never relented, never waned.


However, her masochistic nature, reinforced over the last months, had taken over her psyche again. The pain mingled seamlessly with the pleasurable sensations that radiated both from his pubic mons smacking rhythmically her two inch naked clitoris body, and from tits overstimulated deep roots, stretched taut inside and around the opening of the urethra.

She experienced orgasm after orgasm, every new one piling atop the previous, multiplying exponentially until the sensory overload threatened to fry even her modified nervous system. When William regained his strength and thrust his own cock down her throat she barely noticed, allowing him unrestricted passage just from the force of habit.

Speared from peehole to mouth, Rose could feel how both scientists synchronized themselves until their cocks bumped at her heart from both ends simultaneously. She was so full of meat and plant that, for the first time, she saw herself as an empty vessel, a stuffed toy deprived of its filling. Only while the plant consumed her was she useful, only when the cocks penetrated her holes was she complete. If she had no plant or no cocks, she would deflate and be left in a corner, forgotten, useless.

Just as she was having that epiphany, the scientists finally cummed inside her. With one final earth shattering orgasm, exhaustion finally claimed her consciousness. She barely felt their cocks leaving her body and, as the after spasms of the brain melting orgasms suffused her body, she drifted to sleep with a satisfied smile plastered on her face.

DAY 80

"I wonder how I will look in the end" she said absent-mindedly once she had finished swallowing William's morning dose of shit, semen and piss.

"What do you mean?" asked the intrigued scientist.

"I'm going to become a tree, aren't I?" Rose answered, matter of factly.

Surprised by her nonchalant attitude at her fate, William warmed to the little green child and stroked her cum and shit stained cheek. Even if she had been conditioned to be an obedient test subject, like all her predecessors, Rose was, by far, the most cheerful about her destiny.

"Yes, that's true" he smiled at her "What has that to do with how you will look?"

"Well, trees don't have eyes, do they?"

"No, they don't"

"Will I have eyes?"

"No, you will lose them as well, I'm sorry" he said with genuine regret.

Rose nodded, seemingly unaffected by those news. Like the loss of her limbs, she was taking her dehumanization in stride.

"It was just that I would have liked to see how I will look in the end"



William felt another surge of empathy for the little girl but, seeing the leftover brown lumps of his shit that had fallen on her chest and clung to her sticky cum covered skin, he had a bout of inspiration, a wicked idea that stirred his loins.

"Maybe we can arrange something" he scratched his chin "Let me fetch Mateson, he still needs to dump his number two"

Rose licked her lips and looked at him curiously, but didn't say anything else while the young assistant went to look for the older man.

Mateson had been busy diluting some serums but, as soon as William shared his idea with him, he paused his work, swallowed a fast acting laxative from a nearby medicine cabinet and hurried to Rose's side.

"William has told me that you would like to see how you will look as a tree" he began.

"I was just thinking out loud. I can see trees all around me, after all" she answered, unsure about their intentions "William has explained to me that I won't be able to see after I am one myself, so it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"We have had an idea to fix that. William, will you please bend her?" he said, unfastening his pants.

Now Rose was really curious and when the assistant took her by her shoulders and slowly bent her body backwards again, she decided to just go along for the ride. The sensation of her vegetable filling shifting slightly as it bent with her always sent delightful shivers up her spine. Through the mirror, she could see her pulsing clit stand erect vertically, as if it was a red mountaineer ready to climb the mountain of her belly, and the mental image made her giggle.

Mateson, now pants less, used the stool to climb the pot and crouched above the horizontal form of her body, using her round belly as a support, and Rose saw his puckered anus clenching and unclenching, showcasing its readiness to expel its cargo. Her unnatural hunger made her want to attach her pretty mouth to his bum and suck all the delicious shit from his bowels, but William was keeping her in place so her object of desire was out of reach.

In short notice, though, Mateson felt the kick of the powerful laxative and, with a grunt of discomfort, a rope of brown soft shit emerged from his asshole. Gravity assisted its smooth travel through the short distance that separated it from her chest. The unbroken tube of waste coiled in a neat spiral pile between Rose's nipples and the lumpy mound of her belly until the tail of the shit snake appeared and the doctor clenched his hole in satisfaction.

As he climbed down the stool, Rose admired the fairly substantial amount of faeces that warmed her chest and stimulated her nostrils with their smell. Had she had arms, she would have scooped the faecal matter and stuffed her face with it, so strong was her newly found desire for shit.

Both scientists looked at her mouth and saw, to their perverse delight, that she was literally drooling at the prospect of eating the foul substance. This time, though, they had another use in mind for that waste.

While William kept her pinned, Mateson buried his hands in the smelly pile and began to thoroughly massage it into the little child skin. After so many years of unchecked depravity, both men were pretty much immune to the repulse that those actions would have brought to normal people.

The shit mixed well with the caked semen, giving it the consistency of mud, and easing Mateson's task. To Rose's amazement, her white coating turned light brown as the scientist moved his hands through every patch of skin, his expert fingers digging deeply into her leftover muscles, driving away cramps she had completely forgotten about. As the doctor worked his fingers deep into the flesh of her swollen abdomen, she felt the hard unyielding mass of the plant's tendrils that coiled inside her. Amused, she decided to relax and enjoy the massage, so she closed her eyes, revelling on his touch, the sensation of her hardened innards and the intoxicating smell.

Soon, all her front was completely painted and William released her carefully to grant Mateson free access to her back. The older scientist repeated the process on the rest of her body until not a single patch of free skin could be seen. Only her swollen clitoris remained shit free, as Mateson decided that he liked the contrast of shiny red against dull brown.

Even after spreading his load as evenly as possible through all the girl's skin, she had become so diminutive that his hands were still fairly full of the stuff, so he moved again in front of the girl, cupping her sweet, angelic face between them.

Rose, her eyes still closed, nodded in unspoken agreement, making Mateson proceed to cover her face with the runny mixture of faeces and semen. He worked the substance on her lips, between her eyelids, inside her nostrils and ear folds… until she was completely browned with the foulest make-up imaginable from which not even her hair was spared, the layers of shit making the braid stick to her back.

"You can open your eyes now" whispered Mateson to Rose.

The child took a long sniff with her shit filled nostrils, flooding her senses with the overpowering odour, and slowly opened her shit caked eyelids. Looking at the omnipresent mirror, she smiled in satisfaction at the reflection that the mirror returned. The brown crust had blended the color and texture of her skin with those from the trunk that anchored her to the pot. Save for her striking emerald eyes, she now seemed like a tree stump from the bottom to the top. Only a lush canopy of green leaves was absent to form the complete picture, but for an improvised mock up it was more than enough.

"I will be like that?" she asked after licking her brown stained lips.

"You will, in time. Maybe a little greener, though" Mateson answered, approaching his shit covered hands to her face.

Rose opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, accepting the invitation, and began licking his fingers and palms clean with obvious gusto. Seeing the lascivious girl worshipping his hands with such dedication made his dick hard again, and he resolved to put her peehole to use once more before the day was over.

DAY 90

Infected by the cheerfulness of Rose's reaction to her shit covering, they decided to let it stay like that, the same as they had done with the semen. The filth layer dried and crusted over time, giving it the appearance of proper tree bark, much to the child delight. As her "bark" flaked and peeled off, both madmen diverted some of the shit used to feed her to renew the coating that now mixed indistinguishably with her cum layer.

As for her urethra, the repeated brutal fuckings and the consequent sequences of tearing and healing, like ice expanding a rock, had moulded her urinary tract into a continuous tube of flesh, the sphincter that previously marked the frontier between urethra and bladder buried into the healed tissue, its length reaching past the diaphragm.

That morning, as Rose awoke, she felt a dull pressure inside her flat breasts that threatened to escalate into pain in the nearby future. The time was coming for whatever had grown inside her chest to come to the light, and she was eager to see them, whatever they were.

Pain was a welcomed lover to the little girl. Her vagina, ass and stomach had never truly stopped radiating sharp bursts through her body, or mitigated her constant pooping, peeing and puking needs. To her chemical addled and thoroughly trained brain, everything was one and the same, just part of what and who she was, a perfect test subject.

When Mateson entered the greenhouse that morning, the shit covered girl greeted him louder than usual.

"Doctor Mateson, I think it's happening now!"

"Already? Let's see"

Doc took a sponge and cleaned layer upon layer of dried crusty cum and shit until he could see both nipples poking through her green skin. Once he had scraped the plug of dried syrup that blocked the holes, he saw that they were gaping very slowly, contracting and expanding in barely noticeable pulses, remembering him of the labour contractions of the cervical ring. They were clearly trying to expel something, but at the sedate pace of plants, not the frantic one of humans. Even with the altered growth rate, the process would last at least until late evening.

"You are right, but it will take a long time until it's ready. I suggest that you enjoy it while it lasts" he said "meanwhile, William and I will prepare everything for that moment"

"Hooray!" she yelled "I can't wait to see what is it. Are you sure you won't tell me, doc?" she puppy eyed him again, a trick that almost always worked.

"You'll like it, child, believe me".

To prepare her for the rest of the day, Mateson and his assistant cleaned what remained of the girl's body from their effluences, and abstained from feeding her more cum, shit, piss or tit syrup, which frustrated her to no end. She could, however, see the body hidden under the perennial coat of filthy substances that covered her for the first time in a long while, so she decided to recap all the changes it had undergone to distract herself for a while.

Her skin was now a translucent dark green, the same hue as the tendrils that had so permeated her body. She could see underneath it the outline of the tangled mass of vines that criss-crossed her body from every conceivable direction.

Her misshapen belly, the result of the coils of her digestive tract being expanded by the tendrils, didn't let her see anything of her lower features, so big it had made her abdomen. In her tiny ten years old frame, it looked ridiculous and only the mirror allowed her to check what was below it.



She could still see the faint contour of her labia and her asshole around the invaders, but both orifices had become so big that almost occupied the whole of her hips. The flesh dividing them, the perineum and the lower parts of her labia and asshole, had long ago strangled and withered away between the cutting pressure of the growing twin trunks and now they were part of a single, continuous opening.

The only features that still marked a stark contrast on her cunny, were the big gaping hole that was her urethra, so wide that tennis balls could have been inserted with a bit of work, and the raw red sausage of her, now two inches long, clitoris. Over the weeks, the unhooded sex organ had grown considerably. It was constantly erect and throbbing, waiting with the same eagerness for the tender caress or the vicious slap of a human hand.

Even if the majority of that mass was lodged inside what had been her digestive tract, the smaller tendril had also been doing a number with her reproductive organs, transforming them to its purposes. The last internal scan she had seen of herself showed that her original entrails had been reduced to her slightly bloated uterus, the long stretchy bladder, stomach, lungs and her heart.

Looking closely at the digital picture, she could see that two tube-like appendices exited the sides of her uterus and climbed upwards her belly, ending in a flattened mass of spherical bulges that had replaced her budding breast tissue, too small to make an impression on her skin though, except from those topmost red "beans" she had seen lurking inside her nipples.

It seemed, though, that her lungs were the next organs in line, as they had begun to be colonized and would soon be lost to the green tide. Given that she didn't need to breath anymore, it didn't seem a great loss to her, although that advantage came with the side effect that she would be unable to speak, as Mateson had explained to her. Being a prized test subject, though, she knew she would be taken care of and wouldn't need to talk at all. Reflecting on her upcoming loss, she wondered for the umpteenth time how it would feel when she had been completely consumed by her plant.

When she finished inspecting her body, she decided to concentrate on the ongoing "birth" again. The pressure and her frustration kept increasing through the day, but both scientists avoided touching her so that she would not be distracted from that "once in a lifetime" moment.

The things that were inside her breasts grew even more, engorging her nipples and stretching her undeveloped chest into two pointy cones, putting tension on the holes, widening them bit by bit. A veritable deluge of syrup was also flowing from them, lubricating the passage, trying to aid the impossible task. That natural lube, though, did little to alleviate the pain, which kept increasing to a point that she began to cum just from the intensity.

Before that irresistible push, the nipples could do nothing but surrender, and slowly gave way to the round crimson beans that she had seen inside them, discolouring as their flesh grew thinner and thinner making the hole wider and wider to allow their passage.

The pressure became almost unbearable and Rose experienced the dichotomy of wanting the beans to finally exit her chest and hoping for that intense sensation to never end. Finally, the tips of the crimson beans began to poke past the flesh rings and then she understood at last that they were not beans at all, she was birthing blossoms.

As if it was jealous of those blossoms, the pine cone head of the tendril in her stomach decided to join the party too, and begun to grow upwards, spearing her cardias and filling to the point of overflow what remained of her digestive tract with the partially digested cocktail of shit, semen, piss and syrup.

Slowly, her oesophagus stretched around the tendril like if she was deepthroating William's cock in reverse and a column of that foul diarrhoea rose to fill the rest of the tube. When she tasted the unholy, delicious mixture at the back of her palate, Rose knew that she was approaching the last turning point in her short life.

It was late in the evening when the central, wider part of the bulbs crowned her nipples. The stark contrast between her overstretched nipples and the crimson blossoms looked very beautiful to her and, when the widest parts finally exited the holes, her nipples closed slowly, tenderly, behind them, enfolding the green stalks of the flowers soon to be, grateful of returning to something barely approximate to their original size.

She was literally beaming with pride. The pain had gone almost completely, and the petals were finally opening before her eyes. Both scientists approached her to witness the final stage of her procedure and Mateson stroked her head affectionately while the twin flowers slowly unfurled. Rose was crying with delight and barely paid attention to what Mateson was saying, but the entire event was being recorded for posterity, so he had to speak.

"Those flowers are the fruit of everything that has happened to you through the last three months, Rose. They bear some of your ovules, modified and transferred from your ovaries to the flower's. They will be pollinated from my own semen, and then the flower will transform into a fruit bearing the seeds that will continue the refinement process"

The tendril rising through what was left of her digestive tract was already obscenely bulging her throat, shutting her speech and making her gag painfully. She looked pleadingly at Mateson and he began to tenderly massage her neck in peristaltic upward motions to help its passage.

While the doctor squeezed her neck rhythmically, making her vomit a liquid shit discharge on each squeeze, she took a longing look at the twin red flowers that graced her flat chest. They were her own daughters, borne of the loving union between her plant and herself, and she was intent on burning their image in her memory. For the first time she regretted having no hands with which she could touch them, feel them, caress them.

Rose was soon gagging heavily, having no air with which cough the fresh discharges of brown diarrhoea that heralded the arrival of the tendril at her mouth. Tears flowing freely, unable to talk, she looked at William and Mateson one last time and then carefully arched her head backwards to let the growing stalk complete its travel through her body at long last. The pine cone head, much wider and greener than when it first entered her asshole, filled completely her mouth and, with a nasty, pitiful gurgle, forced the last remnants of gas to leave her body in a brown, creamy foam.

The bright green stalk, stained brown, finally emerged proudly past her lips, opening her jaw painfully, truly spitting her from end to end. She closed her lips tight around the four inches thick shaft, like she had done so many times before with both scientists' cocks, caressing the vine with a loving, perpetual kiss. The scarce remaining sludge, unable to go past her completely sealed mouth, overflowed through her nostrils and pooled around and inside her eyes, burning brown tears that marked the end of her ordeal.

"From now on, you will keep producing seeds for us, at least for some more years. Seeds that will grow to become plants like yours, seeds that will grace another girl like you" whispered Mateson to her ear "seeds that one day, will cure humanity of all its foolish ambitions".


Rose looked cross-eyed through the thin veil of diarrhoea at the thick stalk that kept growing past her mouth, gradually deflating her belly as it left her. Then, like its crimson sisters, it unfurled slowly into an array of lush green leaves, droplets of shitty liquid dripping on her face. The corners of Rose's overstretched lips curved slightly upwards in a satisfied smile and she closed her eyes for the last time, content and happy to have fulfilled her purpose in life.

DAY 120. EPILOGUE

Mateson looked at the pair of peach-like orange fruits that had replaced Rose's flowers and now dangled heavily from her stretched nipples. A month after the night of the emergence of the stalk, even if its growth spurts had slowed considerably, the girl was almost completely fused with her symbiont. Her bones, muscles and most of her organs had been consumed long ago, and her translucent green skin was tightly draped in a cylindrical shape over the previously twin, now single, trunk of the plant. A canopy of heart shaped green leaves shadowed gently her body.

Rose's hide stood higher than it had at the beginning, right below the first branches thanks to the growth of the trunk, still betraying the true nature of the vegetable. Her features were still perfectly distinguishable, despite being distorted by the disappearance of the bones of her skull. Her lips were stretched thin in a tight "O" around the whole circumference of the trunk, a faint pink line outlining the frontier between skin and bark. Her pretty emerald eyes had never opened again after that fateful night and, out of morbid curiosity, Mateson stood on his toes and raised carefully her eyelids. As expected, only dark brownish-green bark returned his gaze.

The scientist then inserted his right index and middle fingers under the eye sockets and wormed them between her flesh and the trunk, detaching some vascular bundles on their way up, until the tips reappeared past her lips. Making a hook with them, he made an experimental tug and confirmed that all that remained of her original body was her skin and the long braid of red hair hanging from her flattened, stretched facial features. He removed both appendices and closed mercifully her eyelids. The sticky sap that flowed from the severed connections glued them shut and the drops dried in the shape of beautiful golden tears at the corners of her eyes.

As her ears also remained, Mateson used to talk to her, imagining that his voice was still heard. It wasn't, not anymore. Nonetheless, Rose's brain was, unfortunately for her, quite active, even if it was already buried inside the trunk. Her nervous system would be the only thing, by design, to survive the transformation and he wondered, once again, what thoughts crossed the minds of his specimens.

Since darkness had claimed her the night of the birth of her floral daughters, Rose's consciousness had experienced changes that couldn't be explained with words. Sadly, those changes hadn't done much good to the little child's sanity.

Rose's brain had almost completely lost its characteristic shape. Free of the confining bound of her dissolved skull, its circumvolutions had unravelled and now laid spread across the folds of their cellulose prison. Despite that, the connections between neurons had remained, so her mind was still pretty much whole, even if that shape change and the shift in sensory input had eroded her consciousness implacably. Also, as her flesh had been assimilated, her nerves had spread alongside the trunk of the plant, dragged with its growth, so now she could feel the flow of her sap, the suction of her roots and the warmth of the sunlight on her leaves.




Those weren't the only things she could feel, though. Parts of her old flesh still retained their original nervous connections. Her lips, for example, were still pretty sensitive, and she felt how they kept enfolding the ever increasing width of the trunk, always hurting, always in the verge of rupture but never quite doing so. The smooth texture of the bark tickled them as it passed on its way towards the light. It was like deepthroating an elephant.

Her nipples had been stretched downwards by the weight of the fruits. She could only imagine the twin fruits dangling heavily from her chest, but she certainly could feel how they made her hollow breasts sway deliciously, brushing her tummy skin with their velvety softness. It was the closest she would ever be from being loved by her daughters and she dreaded the thought of anyone harvesting them from her body.

The rest of her skin still retained most of its feeling and she constantly, desperately yearned for the touch of a warm hand or the gentle flow of the air inside the greenhouse like a thirsty man in a desert yearned for water. Despite that, she was increasingly uncomfortable with it each passing day, as her fleshy outermost layer wasn't growing alongside the trunk. Rose felt more and more like a latex glove, stretched taut over the unyielding wood, and ached for release from that incredible pressure.

Rose's most sensitive part of her body was, by far, her obscenely swollen clitoris. Although its skin had hardened into the cerulean cover of a fruit and the sap slowly flowing inside the corpus cavernosum was concentrating into a bitter-sweet creamy filling, the nerves were still as sensitive as ever, and all that poor Rose could feel was the constant pulsion of that dense fluid through its length, making her live in a state of perpetual orgasm.

Alone in the unforgiving dark, the child latched unto those last forms of sensory input to stave the absolute nothingness one more day, screaming her unending pleasure, pain and sorrow with a silent voice no one would ever be able to hear again, waiting for complete insanity to finally claim her mind.

Mateson, of course, knew little and cared less about that. All he could think was that soon he would carefully skin the plant-girl and hand her empty pelt to William. The assistant would cure it and then hang the macabre remains on the wall of his office, like he had done many times before with his previous test subjects. The fixed scream of their distorted mouths and empty eyes was a fitting tribute to his genius, after all.

Amused, the mad scientist looked at her clitoris, the most striking feature of her cunt, as the gaping hole of her urethra had closed shut weeks ago due to lack of need and the incredible pressure of the ever growing plant. The ultra-sensitive crimson appendage shined glossy taut, having become the size, texture and color of a particularly big jalapeno. The penile analogue was now three inches long, and the skin around its base was slowly turning wooden-like, strangling the organ into a pepper-like shape.

He stroked and pinched it tenderly, hopefully rewarding the girl with an orgasm as an apology in advance. Rose's leaves fluttered as if a non-existent wind had moved them, making the scientist almost feel sorry for her. In a few more days, her nipple fruits and clitoris pepper would be ripe for harvesting, and his experience told him that they made a very tasty morsel, even eaten raw.

While he was occupied anticipating the culinary delight, the speakers of the greenhouse intercom chimed again, and the voice of his assistant made him grin deviously.

"Doctor, the new specimen has been delivered. I will prepare her right away"