tagNonHumanA Seed Called Pygmalion

A Seed Called Pygmalion


Part One

He had been hurt many times before by big leg women who couldn't care less if he was right or wrong. He was a push-over and they loved him for it. His brilliance was overshadowed by the way he would make himself insignificant just to feel loved.

Gregory didn't look any different than any other boy in the science field. He had shaggy brown hair that he let grow just a little too long over his pale russet eyes. He was a little undernourished, but he worked out when he got a chance and it kept some muscles in his arms. On the weekends he might even slap on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. There just wasn't anything about him that would make a girl take a second look.

The first girl he met was a corporate office type with her dirty blonde hair pulled back in a bun. Her face was weathered but her eyes were young. She was tall but a little overweight. He didn't mind her mid-section and she didn't mind that he was still a virgin at thirty. They were at a bar and just happened to be looking for one another. He bought her a drink and she pitied him for it.

She consumed him. His life for the next year was her. He knew every inch of her frame, even the love-handles which she often tried to hide in tight garments. When they made love she would climb on top yanking his cock inside of her, uncaring if he was hard or not. She'd cum waves of clear liquid over his slightly pudgy belly. If his cock got hard, it would remain hard.

Eat me she'd instruct putting her slightly hairy cunt on the bridge of his nose. He would take in her scent and ravage her just like she wanted. Every curve of her pussy was well known by his tongue. She didn't want to let him go, but life called and she needed something more than a good time.

Devastated, Gregory took to the bar scene again. At thirty-five, he felt slightly out of place in a bar of twenty-something's. He even felt creepy at times when he would glance at the shapely beauties dancing together on the make-shift dance floor. Then, in she walked.

Gregory knew she was for him the moment he saw her big blue eyes glance his way. She was the oldest woman in the bar and she seemed to be overwhelmed by the loud thumping music and gyrating girlies taking shots to the head as if it were water.

"Is this seat taken?" She had asked it so politely and yet Greg could tell that there was something behind the façade of her being a good girl that would keep his belly warm at night.

Walking her home he grew accustomed to her step and the way she would laugh when she embarrassed herself by rambling on and on. She was destined to be the second, because she simply didn't have anything else going on in her life.

They spent the next five years together and she used him just like Ms. Corporate America. She had never been loved so all encompassing before and she took advantage of Gregory's nature. She practically demanded he be domestic as well as a provider. He would often wonder what she did with her time.

Besides the first time they had sex, they barely touched. He would think back to her red hair spilling over the pillow as he looked down at her and pressed himself into her under-used walls. Wet as she was for him, her nipples never hardened to his touch. Every sordid kiss was his and his alone. He'd find out later that she was a lesbian.

It was he who allowed her to admit it out loud when he complacently got down on one knee and proposed marriage. She was gone as quickly as he came.

At forty he got another chance with a pretty little 20 year old brunette named Tonya. He hadn't liked her at first because she was quiet like him, but her youth made him reconsider. She was fond of him because he was older.

Two days they spent at her apartment. Her roommate, also twenty found him interesting because of the stories he would tell about botany. They would both giggle when he told them about the human-like plants that he had given names to in his facility.

"We are the first facility of our kind," he would say going over all the new species in his mind.

The plants were his family. He liked the plants that were learning how to talk the best, but they could never be it for him. He had a dream for plants to be humans one day or at least close to it, so he wouldn't have to be lonely anymore.

"Ever have a threesome?" Tonya giggles bored with his ramblings.

He knows that she will move on soon. Sighing he takes off his jacket and leaves it on the chair. He follows the two young women to the bedroom with no expectation that he will make it through the night. He is looped into their college mentality trying to please them more than he pleases himself.

As Tonya rides his face with her sweet honey smell, her roommate rocks on his cock in timed rhythm. They face each other and kiss but he isn't here for his pleasure. He has never known his own pleasure. When they are done they ignore him. Tonya says she will call, but he knows she never will.

Its ok, he thinks to himself, another project starts tomorrow.

Part Two

At age fifty Gregory sits at his desk playing music for a dancing Mozart plant he nicknamed Hula.

"The seed is called Pygmalion," his co-worker thrust a tiny white seed into Gregory's hand, "it will grow whatever you want. It is fertilized by words."

"Words?" Gregory couldn't believe his ears. Sure John was at the forefront of plant research, but a seed that could grow anything?

"Why are you giving this to me?"

"Because," John says in a whisper, "you need it."

Gregory took the seed and placed it into his worn pocket. He didn't know how to sew and wished one woman had stuck around in his life long enough to show him.

On the train home he thumbs the kernel in his pocket. He had spent time with the human-like plants today and wondered just how human a plant could become.

John was different than all the other botanists at the facility. The weirdest part about John though is that he isn't very present. Gregory begins to wonder if he should trust him at all.

"Pygmalion," he says aloud running his hand along the smooth outer shell of the seed.

At home he places the plant on his kitchen counter and makes quick work of a left over pastrami sandwich on rye. Staring at the seed he imagines what could be.

"She would be beautiful," he says aloud.

The seed seems to shake on the counter but Greg thinks it his imagination.

"She would be beautiful and kind. She would be smart, but not too smart, definitely not smarter than me. She would love unconditionally and find some kind of beauty in science," he says sighing to himself.

Looking at the seed on the counter, anger rips through him. He flings the seed into the garbage and heads up to bed.

"But most of all," he says under his breath in the hallway, "she wouldn't be anything like the others."

In bed he tosses and turns over thoughts of all the women who hurt him in his life. Ms. Corporate America was too demanding. Jeanne was a lesbian. Tonya was pretty but naïve. He can't help but think he is too old for anything but that now.

"She would love me for me," he says to himself, "and she would never leave."

That was the worst part after all, the loneliness. There was something sick and twisted about a man as smart as him with nothing to come home too. He wonders about the great scientist before him and the women who no doubt stood next to them. Where is Madame Curie when you need her? Stifling all thoughts of a better life he finds himself curled in forest green blankets.

The next morning he rises to an unfamiliar sound coming from the kitchen. It sounds like something is exploding. Tossing the covers aside he rushes downstairs to a sight he barely can process.

The seed has cracked and something sticky pours from the crevasse creating what appears to be a full grown humanoid still in a plant like womb. He can tell from the curves of its body that it is a full grown woman. He places her at age twenty. He clears his eyes hoping to wake up from this ill processed dream.

Veins stretch and pulse over the placenta. Tiny flowers grow the length of the cord connecting it to the seed that has multiplied in size. His kitchen has become a science experiment gone wrong. He rushes to the seed trying to make sense of this new breed of plant. John had said the seed could grow anything but Greg just couldn't believe that plants could evolve so much. Sure plants were smart enough to respond to stimuli, but to completely fertilize based on the sound of his voice, the need in his voice.

"Grow," he purrs to the plant. The plant seems to pulse more at the tone of his voice.


The new placenta like plant begins to crack revealing something more human now, and more beautiful.

"This can't be happening," he murmurs to himself.

She opens her eyes. Her eyes are the color of sea foam.

"Are you ok? Can you talk?" He rushes to her side.

"I can," she says peeling what's left of the sticky moisture from her frame, "how would you like me to serve you?"

He pauses. He can't believe his ears. This beautiful red haired goddess wants to serve him. He pales next to her helping to clear the entire human and plant like mixture from her naked frame. She seems smaller now outside of her encasement.

"Are you real?" he manages to get out leading her up to the shower so that she can clean what is left from places that no one can see.

"I am," she answers waiting on a towel as he runs water for her bath, "please call me Pygmalion."

While she is in the bath, Gregory calls John. John answers on the first ring.

"I knew it be you," he says, "you're welcome."

"Yes, but what is she?" Gregory is taken aback by the calmness on the other end of the line.

"A gift," John says slowly, "treat her well and she will do the same."

The line goes dead. Gregory turns to find her staring at him across the bedroom. Nude her nipples are erect from the cold air. They are tiny like her and surprisingly pinker than the rest of her skin. He goes to her. His whole life he had wanted her and even if she is here for a day, he isn't going to waste it.

"Can we make love?"

"We can do whatever you want," she giggles.

For the first time in his life he looks a woman square in the eye before kissing her. She tastes like summer. Her tiny waist is pressed against his own. She kisses him back with her full lips and accepts his tongue against her own.

He helps her to her knees where her large sea foam eyes stare back at him. She pulls him out of his bedroom pants lovingly. Her nimble fingers grip him. He can feel his eyes roll back as she places her tiny mouth on the head of his cock. She suckles him and then engulfs him. Spit pools at the sides of her mouth as she tries to fit the length of him inside her mouth. She moans against his cock. He likes the feel of her mouth on him.

Wobbling legs make him stop her. He lifts her up and places her on the bed. She is so smooth and tiny. He lies between her legs licking and sucking at her moistening flower. He loves the way she tastes and doesn't want to come up for air.

"I'm going to penetrate you now," he says and she doesn't respond.

Her breath has quickened as he places himself at her opening.

"I really hope you are real," he says pushing inside of her. She is so tight to him. Blood begins to pool around his cock. He can't believe she is a virgin. As wet as she is, she is different.

He can feel himself getting closer. A million things are going through his mind. Gregory doesn't want to pull out. She tightens around him. She doesn't want him to pull out. She lifts her legs up and he is deeper now.

"I can't hold out much longer," he says letting a stream of cum go inside of her.

"I love you," she says as he tries to catch his breath.

He starts to breathe heavy again; she is all he ever wanted. He leans over and kisses her again.

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