Hay Fever

Rose awoke at some point in the early hours of the morning. Her throat was parched and felt half-blocked by something - she knew immediately that she wouldn’t be able to sleep again without getting up to fetch a drink.

Groaning, she dragged herself out of bed and immediately remembered two things: one, she had been sleeping in Withania’s bed, and two, her gut sloshed and sagged below her with the remnants of the aforementioned mare inside.

What in the name of Celestia did I do? she thought to herself, stumbling into the kitchen and drawing a cup of water. She swallowed a few mouthfuls, which relieved her parched throat, but suddenly amplified the sensation of something stuck at the bottom of her throat. Fearing that she was about to be sick, she staggered out the back door into the garden, swaying with the weight of her midriff, and let loose an almighty UUUUURRRRAAAPPPPP!

This was followed by a cough, and she felt a lump rattle up her throat and sail out onto the allotments on the wave of her belch.

“Oooh boy, I’m not used to that…” she said allowed, sitting down and panting. The worst seemed to be over, so she wobbled back into the house, drained the last of her water, and headed back to bed. Whatever bizarre scenario she’d gotten herself into, she could deal with it in the morning.

As Withania’s consciousness faded into nothing, it was reignited elsewhere. She had landed on fertile soil, uncovered, but snug and sheltered. Just like her night in the forest, she was not acutely aware of herself, but dreaming. She dreamed about being a plant. She dreamed that a sprout split out from her cosy seed and burrowed into the rich earth below, while a tendril poked out into the chilly air, orienting itself and surveying the space it was about to grow into. On her first experience, her soul was filled with apprehension and uncertainty, but this time her dreaming self knew what was happening. She could hear her garden around her in a way she’d never experienced before. She felt young, a sapling surrounded by mature plants, yet somehow those plants were watching over her as if they knew that the earth pony that poured her heart into their wellbeing had been placed in their care for the night. In the corner of the garden, an elephant in the room, the Magnus Tegmen flower ruffled its leaves in acknowledgement that one of its own was growing nearby.

It was daylight when a rapid, high-pitched sequence of noises hoisted Withania from the depths of her slumber. She felt tall and majestic, standing up over the plants that had dwarfed her mere hours ago, and her leaves soaked up the sun’s rays, feeding energy into her core to keep growing. She opened her eyes sleepily, as if surprised that she even had eyes, and found herself enclosed in the cool shelter of a flower bud, forelegs wrapped around her chest. It was mid-morning, but to Withania, she felt like she’d woken up at day-break and was still a few hours short on sleep. She flexed her leaves and flower petals as if she were stretching, and felt herself sway slightly. And then she realised that she was in fact, a plant.

Rose sat on the flagstones in Withania’s garden, gazing up at the huge flower that seemed to have sprouted and grown overnight - roughly where she’d coughed up some kind of seed or stone in the middle of the night. Her hips were looking noticeably plumper than they had been the day before, and she was still sporting a little pudge around her belly. “Withania? Are you… in there?”

The huge, pale green flower began to move of its own accord, turning slowly as the petals began to unfurl in a spiral motion. Rose has seen moving vines before, but never a flower that moved quick enough to watch. As the flower bloomed before her eyes, a terracotta mane appeared over the edge of the petals, and the unmistakable green face of Withania peered down at her.

“Oh. Hello Rose, good morning…” she said, leaning her forelegs against the edge of her flower and tilting slightly toward the pale mare with her face cupped in her hooves.

“Are… are you a plant?” asked Rose. She already knew what Withania had told her the day before, but this was quite a step above that. She could see inside the flower, and Withania’s body seemed to be lodged inside, or merged with the flower itself. The green mare appeared to be in complete control of this.

“Sort of…” said Withania thoughtfully, rubbing her petals with one hoof, “My pony body is being reformed, almost like a fruit of the flower, but you’ve caught me halfway. I have to admit I haven’t been awake at this point before…”

Truthfully, Withania felt quite at peace. Just like her dreams of regrowing, she didn’t feel the least bit in a rush. She was aware of time at a much slower pace, and seeing Rose twitching and shifting the way ponies naturally rested, her friend seemed to move almost like an insect by comparison. She was also aware that she was quite hungry, needing plenty of energy to finish growing her pony body. How easy would it be to attract Rose to her using her pollen-scent?

“Would you like a closer look?” she asked Rose, giving her a half-lidded look and adjusting the angle of one of the leaves around her stem so that it could be used as a step. Rose’s eyes widened as she got up and approached the flower. She caught the familiar sweet smell of nectar, sharp and alluring.

It’s the dominating smell, like from last week… it’ll get into my head… she thought. Part of her wanted to back away and admire from a distance - but her lustful side knew she was already ensnared the moment Withania’s perfume had caught her nose. Why fight it? It was easier, and far more pleasurable to give in and get closer. Then she could inhale deeply, and just let Withania take control of her. She would be safe, and she could continue to share the amazing abilities Withania seemed to have acquired.

She walked up to the flower and gingerly put her forelegs onto the leaf, which seemed to be incredibly strong, probably owing to its size and shape. It was adapted to supporting the oversized flower, and her body was well within its capacity. Withania leaned over with her forelegs, beckoning Rose to reach up. She was anchored to the flower, but she could already see Rose’s self-awareness being smothered under a cloudy layer of her scent. She was adapted to attract ponies in.

Rose reared up with her hind legs on the leaf, and with a pull from Withania, was hoisted up into the flower. The stem swayed under the additional weight, but impressively held firm. Happy that she wouldn’t fall, Rose’s eyes roamed around her, taking in this fantasy situation she was now in. Withania’s flower was a little cramped for two, resulting in the two of them touching one another, almost hugging. Her rump and hind legs were sitting in a pool of the golden nectar that welled up from the hollow tube of the plant’s stem. The walls of this stem rose up at one side, thickening until they became Withania’s navel. She would have been abashed to observe that the hole in the stem was effectively between where Withania’s hind legs would be, and seemed oddly like her vagina, but she was already past the point of embarrassment.

Withania wrapped her in a hug with her forelegs, raising her petals up slightly to help prevent her friend from falling out, and went straight in for a kiss, breathing more of her pollen into Rose’s mouth, as well as clashing tongues to exchange the taste of her nectar. Rose responded immediately, pressing into the kiss and inhaling the foggy air with a sigh of pleasure. The petals around them closed in a little more, holding their bodies together.

“Withania…” sighed Rose, “You taste so good… you were delicious last night, yet now I just want you to cover me with your smell and your nectar… is something wrong with me?”

“Not at all… you’re doing just fine. I’m just a little hungry you see? And you’re quite plump this morning… I think you’ll enjoy this, and I’ll have you right as rain before tomorrow’s done, so don’t you worry…”

“Mmmm, my legs are a little cramped…” complained Rose, frowning slightly as she squirmed in Withania’s embrace. Withania stroked her mane with one hoof, and with the other she directed her friend’s hind legs to the opening of her stem.

“That’s okay, Rose, just stretch them out into my stem, and I’ll hold you up…” she said. She flexed her petals, almost closing her flower, and pressing their bodies together so that Rose slipped into her opening. It felt wonderful, her instincts lit up as her body began to respond to her catch. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing, yet somehow all of this felt natural - the pony in her clutches was entering a state of bliss, and she knew she could do even more for Rose while benefiting herself as well. She licked her lips, cupped Rose’s muzzle with her hooves, and kissed her again. This time she felt the nectar inside her welling up in her mouth, and gently fed it to Rose.

Rose was distracted by the sinking sensation of her hind legs slipping into Withania’s stem up to her thighs, and when she was suddenly met by a rather wet, but very sweet-tasting kiss. She couldn’t help but swallow the sugary liquid she was being fed. Her pussy was submerged into the pool of nectar inside the stem and there was pressure building there, pressure from her own loins aching for attention, but greater pressure from below, pushing the nectar into her passage, forcing her folds open and flooding her with the same golden soup.

Withania closed her petals fully, wrapping them in a soft cocoon that shaded their coupling, and let Rose rest for a moment. She didn’t want to overwhelm her catch, she wanted her to enjoy this, to go willingly - although of course, no pony would possibly have the willpower to resist her scent and her taste. But the illusion of free will would make this all the sweeter for Rose. Let her walk into this daydream, even though she was powerless to leave until Withania saw fit now. Her stem felt a little stretched, but now her nectar was flowing freely, she felt like she could stretch a little more and take in Rose’s hips.

Rose gazed up at the kind face of Withania bearing over her, and stretched up to kiss her again, to get another mouthful of the delicious liquid surrounding her - which Withania was happy to oblige. Her hooves stroked the soft petals enclosing her, feeling their silky texture and how they transitioned perfectly into Withania’s navel before her. Withania seemed to be enjoying her touch, and pleasing Withania seemed to be the right thing to do at present, so she stroked, and kneaded, and massaged everything around her. The pressure under her shifted slightly, and she felt her hips descend into the opening of the stem, squelching slightly as the seal moved up her body. She wasn’t sure where this was leading, but everything felt so wonderful that she didn’t care.

Kiss the plant pony. Caress her body. Hug her torso. Receive nectar.

“Good girl, Rose, keep drinking now, we’ll make you nice and soft…”

The nectar flooding her pussy was spilling into her womb now, filling her up with a swirling vortex that soaked and seeped into her flesh. The tips of her hind hooves felt strange, as if they had turned to putty and pressed into one another. A pulling sensation seemed to want to stretch her deeper down into the stem, but the bulk of her body was too large to fit. Rose was too focused on Withania to mind. She was being filled down below like nothing she’d ever experienced, and above board, Withania was doting on her like a mother, feeding her and gently lathering the nectar into her fur and mane alike. It was everywhere, the whole flower was full up to Rose’s chest now. And Rose wanted more. Being submerged in the stuff was like a tingling shampoo stimulating every part of her, inside and out.

Withania gently directed Rose’s forelegs to her sides, and tugged on her hind legs with another contracting wave of her stem, pulling her catch deeper inside. Now Rose couldn’t feel her up, but Withania was getting more than enough stimulation by filling this mare up with nectar at both ends, and tasting the essence of her starting to dissolve. She’d already taken Rose’s hind hooves, which were now goop being sucked down her stem to be redistributed through her plant-flesh, and she was in the process of gently sucking on her thighs and hips like nougat.

Rose rubbed her face against Withania’s navel in a vague attempt to convey her enjoyment, but was too fuddled to speak. Her hind legs felt squashed and stretched, as if she’d become very long. She couldn’t move them, but had a vague sensation of being pulled down to the very base of Withania’s stem, and even under the surface of the soil. The nectar in her belly and her womb tingled delightfully and kept her on the very edge of climax, aching for just a little more to tip her over the precipice. She moaned against Withania, her mouth forming words, but closing again to take another gulp of nectar that was being fed to her.

Emboldened by how well this was going, and feeling more energised by the nutrients she was absorbing from her catch, Withania shuffled her leaves and stretched her stem again to pull in more of Rose’s body until she was up to her chest. The mare was drenched in nectar now, glistening in the sweet liquid that was bringing her so much pleasure at the same time as dissolving her body for Withania to drink up. Withania squeezed the neck of her flower, forcing the nectar below to build up inside Rose’s womb and vagina. At last, Rose moaned in ecstasy as she came. The milky fluids leaking from her were quickly wicked down Withania’s stem as the plant-hybrid drank up her food. Now Rose had hit her peak, Withania was free to finish devouring her.

The white mare felt her hips being pulled deep down into the depths of the plant she had been swallowed up by. The feeling was otherworldly, no pain, just pleasure, she was being dissolved in the liquid around her, and her softened body stretched thin and gulped down. As her head descended into the pool of nectar at the bottom of the flower, she felt Withania’s hoof tussle her drenched mane, and then press her muzzle against the rim of the stem, which had become soft and fleshy, as if it were the folds of her own pussy. Rose obeyed and licked, sucking and massaging her mistress with her mouth as best she could until finally, she needed to come up for air.

But her shoulders were trapped in the stem now, and Withania would not release her. She glanced up through the cloudy golden fluid at the blur of green and autumn looking down at her, and then Withania’s hoof pushed her head down into the stem. She wondered how she would possibly fit, but her body had turned to goop, and Withania’s hollow stem was sucking her down like a straw. Her vision became more and more cloudy until she could no longer see anything, but she could feel the tingling of her melted self spreading through Withania’s plant-body, being processed into sugars and nutrients.

Withania moaned to herself as the opening of her stem closed over the top of Rose’s head. She felt wonderfully content. If she wanted to, she could just stay this way. Grow bigger, attract more ponies in to sustain her size, maybe try to grow additional flowers…

She swallowed, clearing her mouth of nectar and blinking her eyes. I'm still a pony, she remembered, And I need to finish growing my body back…

The shape of her familiar hips was visible to her now, forming out from the centre of her flower. She would sleep for another hour or so, and then she could detach from her plant again, with Rose as part of her pony body and ready to be reformed into a seed.

I'm sure she won't mind waiting… Withania thought, hugging herself with her petal cocoon.