Planting the Seeds

Sofia led them out into the main halls of the library. A podium of her own had been parked up against the railing. She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. Seconds later, a full floating platform arrived, easily ten by twelve feet, with a small coffee table in the middle surrounded by comfortable looking chairs.

“Uh…” Mike stared at the platform. It didn’t even have rails. Sofia and Tink walked onto it without a second thought, but Mike hesitated. He had to fight every fiber of panic in his being, but he crossed over, and the platform moved gently away. Standing near the edge, he felt the familiar sensation of multiple hands on his body, holding him in place. Seeing that Sofia wasn’t looking, he tried to brush some more of the smashed pop tart off the back of his pants, the crumbs falling to the marble floors far below.

“Please. Come sit.” Sofia gestured at the table, leaning back in a chair that was large enough for her frame. Mike sat in the chair across from her. His feet just barely touched the ground. Tink fit easily on the cushion of her chair, looking almost like a little green doll. Sofia tapped a small bell on the center of the table, then spun a nearby dial until the number 3 appeared.

“Oh!” Mike watched in amazement as plates of food and drink appeared, Small sandwiches and beef stew in silver bowls, along with a small bottle of wine. He picked up one of the sandwiches, smelling the bread. It was fresh baked.

“Food here super good,” Tink informed him, picking up a spoon. “Always best food in Library!”

“But how?” Mike asked. “Is it magic?”

“It is,” Sofia told him. “Have you ever been at a restaurant and had your order go missing? Same principle. Out there, in the universe somewhere, somebody is wondering where their lunch is at.”

“Wait, this is stolen food?” Mike took a bite of his sandwich. It was delicious.

“High quality stolen food,” Sofia corrected him. She undid her robe, letting it fall away from her shoulders. She wore a tight, blue blouse beneath that matched her skirt. Large breasts were packed inside of her blouse, making Mike think she was wearing some kind of sports bra. She grabbed a bowl of her own, which looked more like a giant mug in her hands. “So fill me in. How long have I been asleep this time?”

Tink, between bites, told Sofia all that had happened since Emily’s death. For the most part, the story was to the point, but she spent several minutes explaining how (she thought) a magic screen worked, and then announced that Mike was her new husband.

“I see. You are the new Caretaker then.” Sofia poured herself some of the wine. “Then may I offer my services. This is the Library of Thoth. Built for him by his brother, it sails beyond the reach of mortal man, connected only to your home on Earth.”

“How many books are here?” Mike asked.

“All of them.” Sofia smiled, blinking gently. With only one eye, Mike wondered if she had been winking instead. He also wondered how big her breasts actually were. It seriously looked like they were struggling to get free.

“All of them?” Mike asked.

“As they are written, yes. Much like the magic that brings us our food, these books simply vanish. It is my job to read them before finding them a permanent home here, properly catalogued.”

“Wait.” Mike set his sandwich down. “Is that what all those boxes in the garage were?”

“Yes. Those were books I hadn’t gotten to yet, and Emily was kind enough to store them for me. It seems like there’s been a sudden rush on the number of books published lately and I…” Sofia’s eye squinted. “What do you mean, were?”

“Boxes all gone. Witch blow them all up.” Tink announced, happily slurping her soup.

It was weird watching Sofia’s eye twitch. Just one side of her eye spasmed, her giant lid rippling with each movement. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, staring down into her lap.

“Fuck.” Shaking her head, the cyclops poured herself some wine. “I can’t believe I didn’t get a chance to catalogue those. The Library will never be complete now.”

“Can’t you just magic up some more?” Mike suggested.

“The Library only brings one of everything. Part of its magic.” Shaking fingers clutched the wine goblet, lifting it to her crimson lips. The instant the wine touched her mouth, she threw back the whole glass, swallowing it in one giant gulp like a shot. “What happened to the witch?”

“She’s dead.” Mike pictured Sarah being dragged into the giant pod of the Mandragora, a fate he had avoided almost entirely by chance.

“Good.” Sofia poured herself another glass, slamming it back like she did the first. “Stupid bitch.”

“Uh, yeah.” Mike worried more than a little about the cyclops and her booze. Maybe alcohol affected her differently? She was already starting to look a little pink in the cheeks. “So, we were wondering if you knew how to activate the portal to the Labyrinth?”

“Oh. That’s easy. However, I don’t think you want to go down there without something a little heftier than a hammer and a crossbow. Minotaur are warriors – even if you fought one that was unarmed and naked, you would have a tough time hurting it. Your best bet is something with a solid enchantment on it.”

Mike sat up. “Like a knife sharp enough to cut through a spirit?”

Sofia was already filling up her glass again. “Yeah, that would do it. I have no idea where you would get one though. A blade capable of damaging an ethereal creature is extraordinarily rare. They have to be made of a non-Earthly metal, and that stuff is extremely challenging to come by.”

“The witch had a knife that did that.”

Sofia’s drink paused on the way to her lips. “I seriously hope you stuck it in the Vault.”

“Uh, no.” Mike looked down at his feet. “I left it in the greenhouse. With the Mandragora.”

Sofia dropped her goblet, wine spilling everywhere on the table. “You left it? You actually had a powerful magical artifact practically in your hands, and you just left it behind?”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking properly.” Mike looked to Tink for help, but the little goblin was suddenly deeply engrossed in her sandwich. “I’m sure it’s where the witch dropped it. Next to the Mandragora.”

“I… you… why…” Sofia began massaging her own temples, her eye rolling dramatically. “Zero reason. You had zero reason to leave it behind. Part of the purpose of the Caretaker is to lock stuff like that away. I just…” She stood up, and the floating room dropped out of the air. “You need to get it right away.”

“Well, sure, yeah, I can do that.”

“I mean right away. Now. We’re going now!” Sofia commanded. Mike watched Tink practically inhale the remaining food in front of her, the subtle shift of the ground beneath him signalling a change in direction. The Library spun around them as the flying platform navigated the building, and Mike realized he could potentially lose himself in such a place forever.

They set down in the lobby. Sofia, Mike, and Tink stepped off the platform, and they walked together toward the bookshelf.

“Do you know how to get back?” Sofia asked.

“I assume I just remove the book,” Mike told her.

“Oh good. You can actually think for yourself.” Sofia pulled the red book from the shelf, and the room spun around them

-

Returning to the house was simple, but retrieving the knife right away had to wait. Upon returning, Mike realized that night had fallen, which meant he had to listen to a disgruntled rant from Sofia about how he was wasting time due to his inability to see in the dark.

Strangely, though Sofia was extremely rude to him, the others were more than happy to see her. Naia and Abella both greeted the cyclops with big hugs, and even Cecilia appeared, greeting the creature with a curtsy. The decision was made to wait until daybreak before setting out for the knife.

Mike didn’t sleep particularly well. His mind was on what would happen after he got the knife. Were they really going into a labyrinth to fight a mythical beast? Was he going to have to kill someone? He was still struggling with the idea that he had watched Sarah get eaten by a plant, but he had had no choice in the matter. His midday nap with Tink was the other reason he couldn’t fall asleep. Just when he felt his eyelids getting heavy, dawn broke through his window, and Sofia opened his bedroom door.

“Time to get moving,” she announced. Tink, who had been sound asleep, practically threw herself out of bed to follow behind the cyclops. Mike was beginning to wonder what all the fuss was about when his nostrils caught a whiff of the scents filling the air.

The home was filled with the aroma of eggs, meat, and bread. He found Tink seated at the table, a pile of bacon, texas toast, and an omelette the size of a frisbee on her plate. Tink had a fork in each hand, demonstrating her ambidexterity by shoveling food into her mouth with both of them. In the kitchen, Sofia moved back and forth in a powder blue dress with an apron tied around the front.

“I fixed you a plate,” she informed him, turning toward him with a stack of food in each hand. Bacon, eggs, and sausage in one, and then a stack of waffles in the other. “Tink insisted you liked something called an Eggo. I threw those away.”

Mike couldn’t even care about the loss of his preferred breakfast, because he also happened to notice that, with her arms apart, the front of Sofia’s dress hung perilously low, putting her cleavage on display. Her breasts still had that strange, overtly full quality to them, and he could see that she was practically spilling out of the wrap she had her breasts in.

“Where did you get all this food?” Mike asked.

“The LIbrary. I acquired the raw materials before the sun rose, and made everybody breakfast.” Sofia frowned at the amount of food on the counter. “At least, I thought I did. I have a bunch leftover, but it’s just the three of us eating.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure that’ll change at some point. Thank you!” Mike took the offered plates and joined Tink at the table. She barely acknowledged him.

“You act like I haven’t been feeding you,” Mike told her, putting a greasy piece of bacon in his mouth.

“Husband tried. Did okay.” Tink told him between bites. Sofia joined them, a large breakfast sandwich on her plate. The three of them ate in silence, the dining room louder than usual with the sounds of silverware on plates. She sat with her back to the window, the sunbeams scattering around her auburn braids. Sofia closed her eyes, savoring the food on her plate. Tink, having finished her meal, ran to the kitchen for seconds.

“You like cooking?” Mike asked.

“For other people, yes.” Sofia sipped at a glass of orange juice. “I remember doing it for Emily, but not much else. This whole house is like deja vu, every memory ready to be rediscovered.”

“The Geas.” The enchantment on the home that scattered memories when the Caretaker died, a failsafe meant to prevent people from capturing the monsters within.

“Yes. I refer to them as Resets. Let’s see, I think this is only my second Reset.”

“So you haven’t been here as long as the others?” Mike asked.

“Yes and no. The LIbrary went undiscovered by one of the previous Caretakers, which meant I slept for nearly a hundred years.”

“You sleep between Caretakers?” Mike asked.

“Sort of. We all wake up just prior to being discovered. It’s as if the Geas knows that you are ready to find us.” Sofia smiled, watching Tink shove her second plate of food on the counter. “We don’t even exist in a physical state, as far as I can tell. It’s like we become dreams.”

“Interesting.” Mike finished the rest of his meal in silence, mulling over the idea that he had missed finding a new monster simply because the Geas hadn’t deemed him ready. Was the Geas itself alive? Could a spell have a conscience of its own?

Once finished, he and Tink cleared the table, and they all did the dishes together. Sofia hand washed the plates and Tink dried them. Mike put each one away, hoping he was at least getting them in the right area. After, he went up to his room to change, getting himself ready for his trip into the greenhouse. Jeans, a lightweight shirt, and a belt. He didn’t think he’d need a jacket. Walking back toward the stairs, his eyes caught on the tall, ebony wardrobe at the end of the hall. It had ornate silver handles that opened both of the doors on the front. Walking past the stairs, his hands were nearly on the handles when he heard Sofia shout.

“What’s taking you so long?” She called, and Mike spun on one foot, jogging casually down the steps and back into the dining room.

“Are you sure you can get there and back by nightfall?” Sofia asked him. She stood next to Tink at the kitchen table, arms crossed in front of her. Tink had unrolled the original map of the Labyrinth, using small mugs to hold it open, carefully drawing a replica with a ruler and a protractor.

“Oh yeah. Should be back around lunchtime, I know right where I left it.” Well, that was a small lie. He knew that it was by the Mandragora, but nothing else. Sofia had spent what little had remained of last night harping on him for details regarding the knife, where he had set it, and if it had runes carved into the hilt. The truth was that he didn’t know – shortly after Sarah had dropped it, he had been too busy getting high on the spores the plant had released that made him and Sarah fuck until they were too exhausted to move.

He wasn’t about to share that detail with the cyclops. She seemed to be in a constant state of disapproval with him, and he felt a strange desire to please her. Was it that she was the latest monster in the house, and he had a strange urge to protect her? Or maybe it was that she didn’t seem to be that interested in him at all.

“I guess I’m off.” He gave a small wave, but Sofia ignored him. Tink was already busy with the copies of the map. It had been Sofia’s idea to leave behind the original, and provide all three of them with a copy, just in case. Sofia had informed them this morning that she intended to come along, for Tink’s sake.

“Bye,” Tink muttered, waving dismissively with her free hand. Feeling a little let down, Mike stepped out the back door into the garden. Abella had found a dark corner beneath the roof, her iPad clutched tightly in her hands. Mike couldn’t be sure, but he was fairly certain that she was watching Friends.

“Good luck, lover.” Naia blew him a kiss. A small watery sphere splashed against his cheek.

“I shouldn’t be long,” he told her. Abella and Cecilia had offered to go with him, but he asked them to stay behind and watch out for the mysterious woman in white who had been spotted in the front yard yesterday while he was at the library  Now that the Mandragora was properly fed, the only danger in the greenhouse would be the sudden storms.

The greenhouse looked innocuous enough, but Mike knew better. The Mandragora opened the door for him, the vines pushing it open gently. The sudden blast of warmth and humidity felt good against his skin, and the smells of the greenhouse flooded his nostrils. Miles of sky in every direction greeted him, and he shut the door behind him. Above the door, glass windows extended all the way into the sky. Mike could see clouds reflected in those upper windows, and wondered just how high it went. If he could climb that high, would he find more world beyond the metal and glass? Or did the world truly end right there? If so, how far did the jungle go?

“Okay, sweet pea. Lead the way!” He gave one of the thicker vines a gentle pat. The Mandragora rubbed gently against his leg, leading him toward the edge of the cliff that bordered the forest. Last time he had been here, he had led Sarah the witch to her demise. This time, the Mandragora led him along a hidden side path that was not only far easier to navigate, but took him along a shaded part of the path where he was out of the sun. Whistling softly to himself, he made his way down the cliff.

-

Beth stepped out of her car, setting her coffee up on the roof. Using the reflection in her driver side window she straightened out her dress, tucking the fabric of her light pink blouse into her black skirt. Letting out a sigh, she grabbed the file from her console, closed the door of her car, and was almost twenty feet away when she realized that she had left her coffee behind.

Walking into the office, she didn’t bother taking off her sunglasses, hoping that the receptionist wouldn’t see the bags under her eyes. Somehow, in the span of less than a week, she had gone from being good at her job to a complete wreck. Her boss had informed her that he wanted to meet with her about last week, and to bring in a paper summary of the Radley file. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she was going to get busted down to a legal secretary again, or if he was just going to cut his losses and let her go. Last night hadn’t helped – every time she dozed off, she had strange dreams about being chased through a cave.

Lance Ferguson ran the agency. He was just past fifty, with a full beard and a bald head. He was one of the nicest men Beth had ever met, but knew that every minute of the day he was nice was balanced out by the man he would become when he needed to make things happen. Early in her career, she had watched him destroy an opposing attorney in the courtroom. It was the first time she had seen a man who wasn’t on trial cry before.

“Good morning Beth.” Lance was waiting for her outside his office. He gestured to the door, and Beth walked in ahead of him. His office was smaller than hers – he was a man of economy, and didn’t like a lot of open space. His desk took up a third of the room, and he waved to one of the comfortable leather chairs across from his own. He closed the door behind her, which was never a good sign. He had a folder of his own on the desk, and Beth saw the name Radley scrawled in Sharpie across the front of it.

“How are you today?” Beth asked. She set her coffee on his desk, followed by the folder.

“Not good, to be honest.” Sliding behind his desk, he opened the file in front of him. “Let’s talk about last week.”

Beth felt a yawning void open inside of her stomach, threatening to swallow up the mask of calm she currently wore.

“I honestly don’t know what happened.” The words didn’t come easily, but they came without her voice breaking. Lance hated it when his employees cried, and she was determined to maintain her composure. The part she hated most was that she truly had no idea what had happened last week. She had returned to work on what she had thought was a Wednesday only to discover that she had somehow lost an entire day of her life. She tried to pass it off as some sort of stomach bug, but apparently she had been spotted driving recklessly all over town that day, and even had a couple of speeding camera tickets to prove it.

What had made things even worse was when Lance discovered that she had failed to report the loss of estate assets. When questioned, Beth had a vague memory of the discovery, something about an unknown storage unit that had auctioned off a couple of boxes. She had no idea how something could have slipped her mind. She had explained to her boss as much as she could, realizing how crazy it sounded. Lance had sat quietly and listened, then sent her home with instructions to avoid any case work for a few days. She made a quick call to Mike, letting him know she couldn’t stop by on Friday afternoon.

Strangely, Mike had sounded relieved over the phone.

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Lance broke the silence, staring at her over the top of his glasses. “It’s never a good sign when you can’t account for yourself or your actions.”

Beth nodded her agreement. She really had nothing to add.

“I thought about this long and hard over the weekend.” Lance closed the file, setting it on the desk. “You’ve been an exemplar employee at this firm. The Radley account is our largest by far, and I worry that Mr. Radley will be extremely displeased to discover that we have misplaced any part of his estate. Frankly, I also worry that we may have to reimburse him for the lost assets, and we both know that could cost the firm a ton of money depending on what was auctioned off.”

“I can talk to him about it. He seems pretty happy with just the house. Or I can try to recover the assets. Or even both. Whatever you want me to do, Mr. Ferguson.” Beth’s leg was twitching, and she pretended to sip from her coffee. Anything to keep it together, to avoid letting him see the tears that threatened to shove their way forward.

“I’m not going to bullshit you. I was tempted to take on this account personally.” Beth immediately understood the underlying threat in his words. “But inspiration came to me in the form of a dream.”

“A dream?”

Lance nodded. “Looking at all the account prep, estate taxes, these Historical Preservation nuts who fought us the whole way, it occurred to me that this was probably too much for a single person to take on. You are amazing at your job, but I think that maybe one person isn’t amazing enough.”

“So what are you thinking?”

“I hired you an assistant.” Lance stood up and opened the door to the office. “This young lady approached our firm over the weekend, wondering if we had room for an intern. I thought it would be a great idea to pair her with you.” He waved to somebody out in the lobby, standing aside as the soft click of heels approached. “What better way to see what all we do here than to pair her up with the woman who does everything? You are working too hard Beth, and I want the two of you to work together from now on. Give her the little tasks, keep yourself from burning out. You still have a bright future here, and I want to make sure you still have a shot at it.”

The intern walked in the room. The first thing that Beth noticed about her was that she was just a bit over five feet tall. Her black hair was swept back into a thigh ponytail, and she wore a simple business suit with a pair of black glasses that made her look more like a sexy librarian than a law intern. She held a small leather briefcase in front of her, her red lips twisted into a playful smile.

“My name is Lily,” she said, holding her hand out for Beth to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

-

The sun was nearing its zenith, scattering shadows across the path in front of him. The last time Mike had walked along here, he had been held at wand-point, the witch behind him ready to vaporize him at a moment’s notice. He had led her on with the promise of something called the Grimoire, a magical book that Sarah thought he had gotten ahold of. He had asked Naia about it, wondering if she had any knowledge of this magical book. The nymph told him no, then resumed giving him a handjob in the tub.

Sex. A month ago, the thought had been a foreign entity to him. The idea of even masturbating had wracked him with fear and guilt, but now it was like eating. Had he swung from one extreme to another? Was it now an addiction, having sex with the monsters in his house? He wondered what would happen if he decided to go without it, if he would fall apart as a human being, devolving into a lust filled creature willing to fuck anything.

No. It was something else. He could feel it inside his body, a peace that permeated his core. The idea of sex as a luxury, no different than wine or cigarettes, was wrong. Sex was a means of expressing affection, it was love, joy, trust, all of those things. He didn’t need it to survive, didn’t crave it as a means of holding power. Just like a married couple, the sex he had with all these women was an expression of their bond, something that brought them closer. Yet, because it was with so many different people, it was frowned upon, anathema to a functional society. Somewhere along the way, mankind had labeled sex as dirty, something to only be enjoyed a certain way with certain people.

Mankind was wrong. Mike firmly believed that. If only other people could feel what he did, experience what he had, maybe they, too, could find a similar peace.

Feeling rather proud of his profound thoughts, he pushed his way through the heavy leaves around him, stepping into the open clearing that housed the Mandragora. In the middle of the clearing, the main plant was sunk into a recess in the ground, a large bloom atop its thick stem. Up above, large pods swung gently in the breeze, and Mike kept a wide berth of them. Each pod was filled with a substance that, when inhaled, acted as a nuclear aphrodisiac. He and Sarah had fucked each other until physically exhausted, and then the Mandragora had consumed her.

“Where is the knife?” Mike asked, not expecting the Mandragora to answer him. The vines coiled around the clearing excitedly, making Mike think of an excited dog whose master had just come home. Nearing the main body of the plant, he circled the area, wondering where the dagger could have gotten to.

Wandering in circles, he was surprised to see the vines waving to him from one corner of the clearing, as if trying to get his attention. Walking toward them, he saw the hilt of the dagger sticking up from a flat, tire shaped stone in the dirt.

“Oh! Thank you!” He gave the vine nearest him a gentle scratch, and the whole clearing shuddered. Crouching down to get closer to the dagger, he felt his head and shoulders covered in the gentle pollen of the Mandragora. Looking up in alarm, he realized that the knife was firmly beneath one of the pods.

“Fuck!” He fell backward, trying to avoid any more of the glittery pollen, but it was too late. He was already sporting a massive hard on, his pants straining to contain it. Even worse, he had nothing to do with it, and he could already feel his upper mind shutting down. Gone were thoughts of the house, the knife, or anything else in between. He needed something to fuck, and he needed it now.

Behind him, the Mandragora rustled again, and the whole clearing shifted. He turned to face the sound, his cock already in his hand, stroking himself rapidly. The bud atop the Mandragora was glowing a fluorescent blue color, the casting an eerie light across the clearing. Giant petals opened, revealing that the inner petals were, in fact, pink in color. The flower itself now looked more like a comfortable bed, and the middle of the flower shifted, the pistil unraveling itself to stand before him. Long, blonde hair cascaded down the red and green skin of the woman inside, her body composed of leaves and petals. She beckoned to him from the middle of the flower bed, her features both familiar and alien at the same time.

Right now, Mike didn’t give two fucks. He was already scrambling in the dirt, trying to get to his feet while squeezing his dick in one hand.

Her eyes were dark and mysterious, her whole body an amalgamation of different plants. Her skin had minor flaws that reminded him of the wrinkles on a sweet potato, or an unwashed carrot. Her breasts lacked nipples, instead coming to a pair of rounded points like the bottom of a turnip. She ran her hands along the sides of her body, slender fingers finding and toying with the soft, blonde curls below her hips. He nearly knocked her over, grabbing at her body out of desperation. She gazed into his eyes, her hands curling around the shaft of his dick, pumping up and down.

Mike sighed, his hands running across her flesh. She felt soft, like a regular woman, and he couldn’t help but notice the pretty blue stone necklace around her neck. It prompted a memory that was quickly lost in the clouds of lust that had fogged his mind. The hands stroking his shaft were suddenly slick. Looking down, he saw that several small tendrils had sprouted from her hands, tendrils that left behind a tingling, slimy trail that enhanced the sensation of her hands. Several larger tendrils from her wrists had created loops that were already wrapping themselves tightly around his balls, squeezing him in ways that created immediate bursts of pleasure that fired up through his spine, reducing the higher functions of his brain to mush.

“Shit,” he muttered. She now stroked him with a level of ferocity that was uncanny, her methodical hands already causing the first of many orgasms to build in him. Kneeling, she opened her mouth, a cavern of several miniature tongues, and fastened herself to the head of his cock. Her hands released him, and the Mandragora slid her face forward, pulling him all the way in until her lips met the bottom of his shaft. She bobbed experimentally a few times, then opened her mouth even wider to suck in his scrotum as well.

What started as an ordinary blowjob transformed into something else. Hundreds of tiny tongues danced along the surface of his cock, and the Mandragora sucked on him greedily, the pressure almost too much to bear. He fell on his back, pinned in place by not only the Mandragora hands, but some of the larger vines in the area that strapped him down to the bed. It wanted him restrained for some reason, and his fear was that the bud would eventually close around him, the plant consuming him once and for all.

Currently, in that moment, he was too horny to care, as long as the Mandragora kept sucking.

“Ah, fuck yeah!” He hollered, closing his eyes. The Mandragora had latched onto his penis, her head stationary while the inside of her mouth moved independently of her. He felt like he was plugged in to the ultimate blowjob machine. Her hands were massaging his legs, squeezing up and down his thighs as if she was trying to make certain that every drop of cum in his body was squeezed free. He tried to push himself even deeper into her mouth, but it was no longer physically possible.

The sensation of warmth on his dick changed. The tendrils were no longer focused on just the outside of his shaft. Tiny little tendrils now explored the opening of his cock, tickling him around the edges. It was like heat and electricity at the same time, his cock growing even larger inside her mouth. He was nearly in tears, that first orgasm ready to burst free, but something kept it from releasing. Those tiny tendrils had crawled inside his cock, were sliding gently into him, tickling him from the inside. His penis began to spasm, the cum trapped inside it, the Mandragora up to something. He felt it then, a sudden rush of warmth up into his body, and the small tendrils gently slid free.

She pulled her mouth off of him, leaving behind a gooey green trail of saliva. She turned around, bending over to reveal a gorgeous purple pussy. The lips of her sex looked exactly like the outside of a pitcher plant, and he knew exactly what kind of meal it wanted.

The vines released him and he sat up. His cock was the largest he had ever seen it. The Mandragora had acted as a giant penis pump, but that wasn’t all. His balls were swollen, nearly the size of a fist. The skin of his scrotum was stretched tight and ached from within, the sensation of blue balls suddenly too much to ignore. Crawling toward the Mandragora, his penis started leaking a steady stream of precum. In the back of his mind, it occurred to him that the plant injected him with something to push his balls into overdrive.

Every fiber of his being demanded exploration of the Mandragora. He wanted to know how she tasted, what she liked, if he could make a plant cum. However, his being was no longer in charge. He was now ruled by the impossibly swollen member between his legs, an entity of its own, and it only had one desire.

The Mandragora arched her back. He planted his hands on her hips lifting himself up to just the right height. He sank his dick into her, discovering that, just like a pitcher plant, she had a small pool of liquid at the bottom that greeted him. They were instantly connected, the liquid flowing up into his body, his entire being consumed with one thought only.

FUCK.

He slammed himself into the Mandragora, ignoring any thought other than to push himself deeper with every thrust. Her whole body bent, flexing beneath his weight like the branches of a tree, and she let out tiny moans of her own, but he couldn’t tell if they were from pleasure or the power of his thrusts. The veins along his body were turning green in color, whatever concoction the Mandragora slipped him taking full effect now. His fingers squeezed her ass, the flesh parting like blades of grass to allow him a better grip as the first orgasm struck, his very soul itself coiling up like a spring, only to release a flood of cum into the Mandragora.

The Mandragora let out a cry that sounded like a choir of angels, the clearing resonating with her song. Her whole body glowed like a giant firefly, the light of her body bright enough to see in the light of day. Vines coiled around the base of his penis, holding him in place, keeping every precious drop inside.

His orgasm spent, Mike relaxed, the sex pollen wearing off temporarily. He knew he only had a few moments of clarity, and wondered what would happen if he ran. Those thoughts were lost when the Mandragora leaned forward, his moist cock slipping free of her. The pitcher plant pussy sealed itself shut, pulling itself up into her body only to be replaced by another.

“Oh God,” he muttered, the pollen capturing him once more. His dick was suddenly rock hard again, his balls swollen with cum once more. He pulled her back against him this time, fucking her while they sat up. He grabbed her breasts from behind, marveling at how full and soft they felt. His fingers circled the necklace around her neck, getting caught in the chain. She rode him this way for several minutes, her hands massaging his balls, pressing on the skin just below them, massaging his prostate through his skin. When he came this time, he squeezed her breasts as hard as he could, screaming unintelligibly at the sky, the sensation of several ounces of cum leaving his body too much to bear. His hands slid away from her breast, the chain breaking in his fingers. He fell over backward, staring in wonder at the perfect globes of her ass. The pollen clearing away, he immediately recognized the curvature of her body.

“Sarah,” he whispered, suddenly aware of the necklace in his hands. He stuffed it away in the pocket of his jeans, the sudden moment of clarity lost again when the Mandragora lifted her ass away from him, swaying from side to side, her pussy closing itself away and a new one blossoming in its place.

She rode him again, his mind lost in the flood of hormones and magic that had taken over his body. Every time he came, he thought that the ordeal was finally over, but the Mandragora kept going. It wasn’t the fact that he had been pollinated that bothered him, or even the number of times they would fuck that scared him.

It’s what would happen to him once they were finished. Would she fuck him until he died? Eat him? Would he become like Sarah, a vessel for the next hapless traveler?

No, it had to be something more. Something much bigger was going on here, but Mike could only think in two minute increments, his balls swelling to an inordinate size despite blasting torrent after torrent of cum into the plant.

The sun crept across the sky, and a storm blew through. Lying on his back, he stared in wonderment at the perfect body above him as it arched its back one final time, its song reverberating in his very soul. Her belly was swollen now with the fruit of his efforts, looking easily seven months pregnant. He wondered if the wind would carry away his shriveled up body, wondered how it was even possible to cum as much as he had.

The Mandragora’s face was a picture of serenity, her dark eyes closed. Her skin darkened to the color of bark, and she stood, turning to face the sun. The clearing went absolutely still, and the Mandragora stepped off of the giant flower bed they had used. The petals wilted, tiny glowing lights leaving their surface to gather around the living plant. She looked back one more time at Mike, her green face now covered in bark.

He expected it to say something, but no words came. Instead, the Mandragora disappeared into the foliage, taking its song with it.

A week ago, he had fucked to exhaustion. He never thought in his wildest dreams that he could ever be more tired. Today, however, had taught him that there was a new level of exhaustion to achieve. His limbs were cold, almost like his body had lost the ability to circulate blood. The pollen had finally worn off, and he was like a baby, completely weak and helpless.

He heard the rustling of leaves behind him. He tilted his head back to see someone step free of the trees around the clearing. Suddenly aware of how cold the ground felt beneath him, his consciousness faded away.

-

Beth sat across from the intern, frowning at her computer screen. She had come in today fully expecting to be either fired or demoted, but now she was saddled with a young woman that some of the men in the office had trouble keeping their eyes off of.

In a way, Beth wanted to hate her. Hate the idea that her boss thought she was so incompetent that Beth could no longer work alone, hate the idea that she could potentially be training her replacement. At the same time, however, Lily was extremely competent. Within minutes of returning to her office, the intern had helped her reorganize the Radley file paperwork, and, using a MacBook of her own, had gone through the companies record to streamline all the data.

“You’re really good with computers,” Beth had noted.

“Thanks. The last guy I was with was a whiz with them. I picked up a few of his tricks.” Something about the way Lily smirked when she spoke told Beth there was more to the story. Maybe someday she would ask.

The Radley file’s main issues stemmed from not only the size of the estate, but the way it had been set up to be self sustaining. Accounts had been put in place to pay the taxes on not just the house, but the random parcels of land that were owned worldwide. Beth was waiting for Mike to full settle in before she revealed the true enormity of the estate. Emily had been very adamant that everything was extremely by the book in regards to ensuring that none of the estate was parceled out.

And that was where the true challenge of maintaining the Radley estate lie. The Historical Society made the most noise, and even Beth found their desire for the house on the verge of obsession. There were at least three other groups attempting to purchase, recover, or seize property in other locations. A rancher in Oregon kept attempting to acquire a ten mile section of forest through his lawyer, a bastard of a man who liked to refer to Beth over the phone as Sweetie. Then there was a patch of land on Hawaii that the natives felt should become theirs once more since Emily had passed. It wasn’t even useable land, surrounded by miles of forest in the middle of Oahu’s caldera. An island off the coast of Ireland was home to some beautiful castle ruins that a resort wanted to scoop up for themselves, and Beth could hardly blame them. The ocean views from the cliffs were spectacular.

Such care and dedication over the last couple of years to making certain that these assets were rightfully passed on to the proper heir, and somehow she had fucked up and missed a storage unit.

“Here.” Lily set some coffee in front of Beth.

“I still have my cup from before,” Beth said, tapping the lid.

“It’s been cold for over an hour. You deserve something fresh.” Lily winked, scooping up the old cup and disappearing with it. Beth shook her head, rubbing her eyes. No amount of concealer was going to correct the bags beneath them. She took a sip of the coffee that Lily had brought. Cream, no sugar, just the way she liked it. Lily was a mind reader.

The documents in front of her blurred, and she rubbed her temples. She vaguely remembered the discovery of the storage unit from last week. Why had it gone unnoticed for so long? Emily had been so thoughtful, and the idea that the storage unit had gone unpaid when Emily had retained local attorneys for all her other properties seemed highly unlikely.

“Beth?” It was Marco, one of the legal secretaries. “There’s a Sebastien Mueller here to see you.”

“Who?” Beth asked, looking past Marco. A pale, blond man with a rather dramatic mustache stood out in the office, leaning on a dark cane. He wore a grey suit with matching loafers.

“He said he’s legal counsel for the Historical Preservation Society. He has some questions for you.”

“Tell him to make an appointment,” Beth said, but Sebastien Mueller pushed his way past Marco, then planted himself firmly in the seat across from Beth. He crossed one leg across the other, one hand firmly on his cane, the other checking a pocket watch. If Mr. Peanut looked like a human, Beth imagined it would be Sebastien Mueller.

“I understand that you are counsel for the Radley Estate?” Sebastien asked, a slight English accent in his voice.

“I don’t take walk ins,” Beth informed him, crossing her arms. “If you would like to meet with me, you need to make an appointment with the firm.”

“I see.” He reached into the breast pocket of his suit. Beth swore to herself that if he pulled out a monocle, she would smack it out of his hand. Instead, a tin of mints appeared, and he pulled a couple out. “Would you like one?”

“No.” It was a common tactic. If she accepted the mint, she would at least hear him out. Right now, she had other things to deal with.

“I see.” He put the mints back in the tin without taking one for himself.

What the actual fuck? Beth thought. Was her breath really that bad?

“I will be brief. I believe that there is an issue of some serious legal ramifications. Since you are Mr. Radley’s representative, I formally request that you schedule a meeting between the three of us. I believe there has been some error in how the estate has been handled, and I would prefer to see it resolved as soon as possible.” Sebastien pulled out his pocket watch again. “We could even head over there now, if you like. I would prefer it, actually. I have come a very long way to have this meeting.”

“Absolutely not.” Beth stared daggers into the man, but he ignored her. “First, you need to make an appointment. Then you and I can talk. Afterword, if your case has any merit, I will arrange a meeting with my client and see if he will agree to meet with you.”

Sebastien stared blankly into a corner, pretending that he hadn’t heard her. Beth waited. She had dealt with this before, and knew that he was waiting to interrupt her. Determined to out wait him, she resumed working on her computer, typing herself a nonsensical memo.

Five minutes passed. With a slightly disgruntled look on his face, Sebastien stood, pushing himself upward with his cane.

“I suppose I will be scheduling an appointment with you on the way out,” he informed her with no lack of disgust in his voice.

“Sounds great,” she said, busy blocking off the next two weeks in her day planner.

“Farewell.” He moved toward the door where he collided with Lily, who was walking in with a stack of files. Lily dropped the papers, putting out a hand to steady Sebastien.

“I am so sorry,” she told him, crouching down to pick up the files.

“Indeed.” Sebastien got a better grip on his cane, rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand. He stopped by the front desk of the office, speaking with Marco. His pale face reddened when Marco opened up Beth’s schedule, which made Beth smile.

“What do you have there?” Beth asked, leaving her desk to help Lily.

“Some paperwork from the auction,” Lily informed her. “I think I may have found something, but we will have to go down to the storage place.”

“Really?” Beth looked over the documents. It was an itemized list of what had been in the storage unit. “How did you get this?”

“Flirted with a guy over the phone.” Lily smiled. “Or blackmailed him. Whatever you prefer to hear. Regardless, he’s working at the storage unit right now, and he’s willing to let us look through their documents. I can’t say the same for his boss though.”

Beth stared at Lily. Where had this girl come from?

“Okay,” she said, closing up her computer. “Let me go pee, and we can head out.”

“Sounds good.” Lily left the room, and Beth made a quick stop in the bathroom. She bid Marco a farewell and walked out to her car, Lily close on her heels with a fresh cup of coffee for herself. The two of them got in Beth’s car, and Beth put the car into gear. Driving out of the parking garage, Beth noticed a Mercedes parked near the exit. Slowing her car down, she saw that Sebastien was behind the wheel, his head tilted to one side.

“What is he doing?” Beth asked.

“Don’t know. Looks like he fell asleep.” Lily sipped at her coffee. “Almost looks like he was planning to follow us, doesn’t it?”

Beth looked at Lily. Something about this whole situation seemed too good to be true. Still, Lily was the reason she still had a job, so she kept her mouth shut. Pulling onto the Main Street, she drove toward the south side of town, leaving the Mercedes behind.

-

Mike opened his eyes, staring at the hard dirt beneath his face. His whole body ached, the effects of marathon humping a living plant having ravaged him from head to toe. It was a familiar feeling, one that he had hoped never to experience again. Groaning, he tried to move, suddenly aware that the light was quickly fading. What he had promised would be a fast trip had suddenly turned into at least a day, and he knew the others would be worried.

“You’re finally awake.” The voice startled him, but he couldn’t turn his head far enough to see where it came from. Closing his eyes, he wondered how long he would have to wait until he was inevitably dragged into even more trouble than he needed.

“Um, yeah.” His legs weren’t listening to him. “Uh, I need to get back to my home. My family is waiting for me.”

“You aren’t going anywhere in your condition,” the voice told him. It belonged to a woman, that much he could tell. There shouldn’t be anybody out in the forest, which immediately made him wonder if someone from the Society had followed him here. “The Mandragora didn’t just exhaust you – she also took some of your life force.”

“Like my soul?” Mike asked, a queasy feeling in his gut.

“Nothing that serious. Your soul is much like your body right now. Drained to the very edge.” The sweet smell of something cooking tickled Mike’s nostrils. Taking a deep whiff, the smell reminded him of cooked vegetables. “That makes sense though. The Mandragora needed all that energy for the task ahead of it.”

“And that would be?” Mike’s fingers clenched, then relaxed. It was the only part of his body that seemed to listen right now.

“To spread its seed. The part you coupled with used your essence to pollinate the seeds. Now it will wander as deep into the forest as it can go, eventually planting itself deep into the earth. It will incubate for nearly a century before forming a plant similar to the one that currently rules this section of forest.”

“And make a new Mandragora?” Mike asked.

“Now you’re getting it.” Soft hands tilted his face to the side, and a water-skin was pushed against his lips. “Drink this. It will help.”

Having nothing to lose, Mike took a few swallows. The cool liquid trickled down the back of his throat, warming in his belly much as whiskey would. The warmth spread to his limbs, his muscles relaxing.

“Thank you,” he said, closing his eyes. He made fists with his hands, bending his elbows slightly. “What did I just drink?”

“An extract made of rose petals, wolfsbane, and the scale of a hydra. It helps your body regenerate resources, but can be quite addictive.”

“You sound like some sort of witch doctor.”

Several silent seconds passed.

“Shaman, actually,” she said. “There’s a world of difference.”

“I’m sorry,” Mike said, the muscles in his back slowly relaxing. “I’m super new at this, and have no idea who you are.”

“My name is Zelenia, but you can call me Zel.” He could hear her voice nearby, and opened his eyes. She was kneeling over him, her face coming into view. She had tan skin and deep, brown eyes that reminded him of the garden. Her hair was braided in several places, and she wore a leathery tunic.

“What are you doing in my greenhouse?” Mike asked. “I thought nothing lived here in the forest.”

“My tribe has known for many years that the last surviving Mandragora plant was kept here,” she told him. “I was brought here once as a child, with my mentor. Emily was the one who told me I was welcome anytime.”

Mike chewed on his lip. With Emily’s passing, the Geas shouldn’t have let Zel in without Mike’s permission.

“And you just happened to find me?” Mike asked.

“Yes and no. I knew the Mandragora was getting ready to bloom, so I set up camp nearby. It only does so every five hundred years, and I wanted to document it. I heard you making quite the ruckus, so arrived in time to watch you mate with the Mandragora. I wrote everything down, for future generations to appreciate.” Zel rummaged around in something, then held out a small journal. “While you coupled with the plant, I drew a bunch of pictures.”

“That’s…oh!” Zel held the book open for him, and he was amazed to see a phenomenal sketch of him fucking the Mandragora from behind. The detail was that of a professional artist.

“I was also able to collect quite a bit of its pollen.” Mike heard the clinking of several jars. “The last time I tried to get some, things didn’t go so well for me.”

“I’ll bet.” Mike felt a small surge of strength in his arms. “I want to roll over.”

“I’ll help you.” Zel helped keep him steady as he flipped in place, staring up into the fading light of the evening sky. Mike could see her better now – Zel sat demurely beneath a blanket that covered her legs. At her side was a large pack that contained several different vials, and he immediately recognized the glittery substance in one of them.

“What do you plan on doing with the pollen?” He asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“Don’t know yet,” Zel said. “Maybe it could be used to cure impotence, or even be a side ingredient in a poultice. I won’t know until I can experiment with it.”

“Count me out,” he said, wincing at the cramp that was now traveling up his left calf. “This is the second time I’ve been fucked up by the stuff. I don’t ever want to do it again.”

“The second time?” Zel already had her notebook out. “When was the first?”

“Last week. Got in a fight with a witch. She lost.”

“Does that have anything to do with the full pod? I noticed that one of them seemed swollen. Normally, when the Mandragora feeds, it drops morsels of foods into those pods, but I’ve never seen one sealed shut before.” Zel was frantically scribbling. “It wasn’t a standard digestion either. One morning, I saw that the pod had been absorbed by the main plant, and the colors on the bud had changed.”

“I think it transformed the witch.” Mike reached into his pocket, pulling out the necklace. “The plant was wearing this.”

“Of course, it makes sense. The Mandragora was struggling to survive and couldn’t be bothered to develop a fully mature body for incubation. Therefore, rather than completely digest its food, it used the skeletal structure of its previous prey as a base to build off of.” Her pencil was scribbling frantically. “Amazing. The plant is already capable of low level human intelligence, which means, in some aspects, the part of the Mandragora that left is  both human and plant!”

“Yeah, well…” Mike’s stomach rumbled. “I need to get back home. I’m starving.”

“Nonsense. I made plenty for both of us.” Zel closed her journal, clapping her hands together. “Afterward, I can walk you home!”

“I’m not in much condition for walking,” he informed her. “Last time this happened, it took me forever just to get back to the cliffs, and that was after a full night of sleep. I’m actually wondering if I can talk you into making the trip for me? I know someone who can pick me up.”

“Oh, it really isn’t any trouble, you’ll see!” Zel stood, her blanket falling to one side. Mike’s eyes widened at the powerful legs that emerged from beneath the fabric. Four long, muscular limbs with hooves on the end. Zel walked over to the fire, leaning over the pot to stir the soup with a stick, her horse tail flicking back and forth contently as she poured some into a bowl.

“I should have known,” Mike muttered to himself. The centaur smiled, handing him a bowl of food to eat.