For the Love of Botany (Revisited)

“Gas them!” ordered the General. Renae, Anderson and Carol were all carrying the converted flamethrowers. Each one quickly aimed and fired a spray of red mist directly at the oncoming offspring. The effect was instantaneous. Back in the Base, the herbicide was diluted when it rained down on the escaped offspring there. It had taken them a long time to die. But here the mist was in a purer form; it killed much quicker. As the gas engulfed the offspring, each one screamed in pain. All were dead in seconds. Around them, the skin of the massive plants started to bubble and turn black. High above them, their vines writhed in pain, casting their captive Breeders aside as if they were nothing. With bodies raining down around them, the group of rebels headed for the leader-plant.

Grant slowly woke up, groggy from the fall. By all rights he should be dead. He looked around him and saw that he was actually sitting on one of the huge branches of the leader-plant. The view was mightily impressive; he could see for miles, down on the other huge plants and far beyond. But Grant was in no mood for sightseeing. He reasoned that the leader-plant had saved him from his fall. He had no idea why, but he was going to spoil any plans this thing had for him. He took out his claymore; his only weapon now, and started to hack away at his captor. His blows had little effect but it did occupy his attention. He didn’t see the vine appear behind him or the tiny thorn that suddenly shot out. It hit him squarely in the back of his neck.

His hand went instinctively to the point of the sudden pain. He pulled out the thorn. Looking at it, he knew he was doomed. It was only a matter of time now. He kept repeatedly hacking with his sword at his enemy, even as his sight started to dim. As he became unsteady on his feet and collapsed, two vines leapt up and kept him from falling. They positioned him on his back on the branch as his mind dulled. The poison had spread fast. He closed his eyes for what he thought would be the last time and slipped into unconsciousness.

But this was no mere poison. It was a special chemical composition the leader-plant has devised many years ago. Since it had first used it, it had refined it many times. Its effect now was much quicker than it had been on Dr. Sanchez.

The small group of rebels continued with their desperate journey. Everywhere they met resistance, from plant or offspring, they silenced it with a blast of herbicide. Slowly but surely, they were approaching their goal: the leader-plant.

“Easy on that stuff!” the General called out to Carol, “We have to enough to get us all the way to our objective.” He suddenly looked up, hearing a rustling noise. Four-foot thick vines came shooting down, crashing into the ground about them. One hurled directly at Nurse Jean. “Look out!” cried the General and shoved her out of the way. A second later, the vine hit. The General disappeared with the vines, smashing into the ground! His war was over.

“Come on!” Anderson shouted to them. She emptied out her remaining herbicide around them and led them away from the vines. The attacks stopped as they pulled away from them. They had entered a clearing; the ground was littered with the dead bodies of Breeders. The only plant to be seen was the leader-plant, rising from the ground and stretching into the sky. They quickly checked what they had left; Renae and Carol had about one spray left in their flamethrowers, Anderson’s was empty. Amy had a few rounds left in her machine gun, which she held with her one good arm. Nurse Jean and Dr. Andrews carried the precious cargo of herbicide. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

Another wave of offspring appeared, backed up by a line of mobile green plants. Anderson charged ahead, drawing her machete. The others took up the fight as well, closely followed by Andrews and Jean.

“Just a little closer,” Anderson called to her comrades, “We’ll make it pay for everyone it has killed!” Her blade flashed, and a plant collapsed in two halves in front of her. Renae and Carol let their final blasts of herbicide spray out, before discarding their flamethrowers and drawing their own machetes. In the red haze, they fought bravely, so near their goal.

Renae looked over the battlefield and saw Dr. Andrews and Nurse Jean grabbed by vines, the barrel falling from their grasp. Renae started to run over to them, but fell down to the dirt as a vine landed a glancing blow against her head. Plants and offspring alike dropped dead in the red mist, but still more came. Carol called out in the chaos; she had lost sight of her comrades. Many hands grabbed her, as a swarm of offspring crowded her. Struggling with all her might against them, she didn’t see one produce a row of small thorns on her arm. She pushed her arm against Carol, pricking her several times. Carol started to feel numb and collapsed.

Anderson and Amy stood back to back. They were all that was left. The gas was starting to dissipate; what advantage it gave them was going to disappear any second. Already the plants around them were closing in. Clark emptied the last of her magazine into the enemy ranks. Taking out her machete, the two brave women stood resolutely together, as the enemy advanced. Again and again they swung their blades, slashing vines from the plants.

But in the end, there just was too many. Dozens of vines twisted and snaked around them, holding them tightly. They constricted powerfully, pushing the breath from their bodies. Unable to breathe, Anderson’s vision became dim. Held securely, her head slumped forward in their grasp. Amy was soon to follow her. All around the offspring surveyed the scene. The enemies had been defeated; all those who had made it as far as the leader-plant were now lying motionless around them. Humanity’s last great hope was gone.

For the Love of Botany: Chapter Twenty-One:

Vision slowly returned to Renae. Her eyes slowly focussed as she lifted her throbbing head. Then she stared in horror as she realised where she was. She was lying on a pile of the dead! Beneath her, the bodies of Breeders, offspring, even plants could be seen. The offspring had mistaken her for dead and after the battle; she was taken to this grisly heap and dumped.

She scrambled off mound of death and was about to run, but she stopped. Going back, she started to search, to look for her comrades. She soon found McGuire and the General. Both of them had given their lives in the slim hope of saving humanity. She mourned them but kept searching. It soon became apparent that the others, Anderson, Carol, Amy, Andrews and Jean, were not here.

“Where did those things take them?” thought Renae. Resolving to find out, she checked herself for weapons. She had lost her machete in the battle, so she took the Generals from his belt. She promised him that she would put it to good use. She felt her shoulder holster and found that she still had a small pistol there. The offspring probably didn’t even bother to search her; they had no interest in human weapons. With this small arsenal, she unsteadily ran off to find her friends.

Grant awoke at last. Even as he opened his eyes, he could feel the change in him. Something was definitely different in him. His senses seemed more alive; every sight, every sound around him felt more vivid, more intense. The smells as well, were all the more real. He could smell sex, musky and intoxicating. He looked up and saw the writhing bodies of naked Breeders, crying out as orgasm followed orgasm. His mouth became suddenly dry; his mind was no longer that of a civilised man. He felt strong, powerful and extremely aroused. His desire to take, to penetrate and to rut took over.

He clawed at his clothes; they felt far too confining, too restrictive. Naked, he sprang from the branch, leaping impossibly high, every muscle in his body felt twice as strong. He easy reached the higher branches and quickly looked over the Breeders held there. Every one of them was a prize; beautiful, naked and kept constantly sexually aroused. Grant was overcome; he couldn’t decide which one to take first.

In the end, he seized the nearest one to him: a young blonde woman. As he grabbed her, the leader-plant released all his vines and tendrils, each one slipping out of her quim, her mouth and between her buttocks. The plant had sensed his new male Breeder’s excitement and had generously allowed him his animal lust, at least for now. Grant grabbed this gorgeous creature and roughly pinned her on her back. All around them the cries of orgasm reigned. Deep, deep inside him, a small part of what Grant had been before, said that this was wrong, but he was being driven by fall more powerful drives now. So close to the source of the plant’s signal, Grant was completely swamped with desire. He held the blonde’s hands firmly above her head with one hand, the other to roughly grab and squeeze her ample breasts. Using thumb and forefinger to pinch her nipples.

The blonde quickly began to moan and writhe beneath him in response. If truth were told, Grant didn’t need to hold her in place; she was more than happy to accommodate him. But Grant didn’t care if she was a willing participant or not; she was his and that was all he cared about.

His head quickly went down on her, mouth hungrily seeking mouth. They both savagely explored each other, completely driven by lust. Suddenly lifting his head up, he moved his head down licking and sucking her flesh until he came to her moist sex. He inhaled her deeply, his senses alive with desire. He could wait no longer. He positioned himself at the entrance of her quim and suddenly drove his engorged cock deep within her.

The blonde gasped at the sudden intrusion, he had stretched her almost to capacity with his hard shaft. Her permanent state of arousal was all that saved her from real pain. Grant began to drive fiercely into her; she bucked beneath him, both of them raging towards a screaming climax. All too soon, he felt his balls tighten as they started to contract, stretching every muscle in his back and legs, he drove himself as deep as he could inside her. His seed rushed through him and deep into her; he roared in his climax, like some feral animal. The blonde screamed as she too rode her orgasm, before allowing herself to collapse, spent on the branch.

Grant slipped out of her but was unsatisfied; his lust was not sated. Vines once again entered the blonde, eagerly seeking her orgasmic fluids. She was lifted away before Grant could take her again. He looked around, desperate for more. He took hold of a nearby woman with long red hair. She would do nicely. Again, the leader-plant released his victim to him. He pulled her down and pressed himself against her. He revelled in her warmth as he held her tightly against him, pressing her full breasts against his chest, feeling her already nipples drilling his flesh. His mouth pressed against her neck, throat and shoulders. His hands roamed over her back before reaching downward to cup her perfect buttocks.

He could feel his manhood rising in excitement again, the urge to take this lovely body overcome him once more. It would have been easy to move his hips into position and thrust himself into her warm, wet sex, but Grant felt the need for something different. Stepping away from her momentarily, he spun her round, so her back faced him. He quickly looked her up and down. Seeing her firm buttocks, he knew what he wanted.

Grant roughly pushed the redhead on to her hands and knees. Dropping to her knees himself, he reached out and firmly parted her creamy buttocks, revealing the puckered opening to her forbidden entrance. He moved his hips forward and positioned his rigid cock against her. He was still slick with the juices produced from his time with the blonde; she had had a vine inside her tight orifice feeding from her, she was also well lubricated. Grant moved his arm around the redhead’s waist and violently pulled her to him. As their bodies came together, his cock slid past her sphincter and deep into her passageway.

She screamed at the sudden invasion, a mixture of pain and pleasure. Grant paid her no heed; he was too overwhelmed with his own animal passions. She was so tight around him; he could feel her blood pulsing through her body and her muscles contracting against his hard shaft. Holding on to her hips with both hands, he started to move in and out of her.

He was soon bucking hard against her, his testicles slapping against her wet quim. From deep in his throat came animal, grunts and groans; he was now robbed of his speech. He drove himself inside her tight body again and again, harder and harder. The redhead had laid her head on her arms, so her rear angled upwards. It increased the pleasure for both. Grant felt his orgasm approach, hastened by his rapid and violent thrusting. Increasing the speed in the last few seconds, he pushed himself as deeply into her as he could and released his semen deep in her bowels. As he came he roared an inhuman feral cry once more, before slumping down on top of his latest victim.
The vines sensed that he was spent for the moment and snaked over to the exhausted couple. They wound themselves around both of them, separating them gently. The redhead was returned to the branches, the vines already working themselves back inside her. Grant was lowered down to the ground.

After a couple of minutes, he awoke from his brief unconsciousness. Incredibly, his hunger was still with him. He sensed the women Breeders high above him and was about to attempt to reach them once more. But suddenly he sniffed the air. He sensed women nearby. He started to leave but found it awkward to be standing upright; his back seemed to be more curved than before. He dropped to his hands for support and found himself to be much more comfortable, as if he had found his natural stance. Truly an animal now, he loped off in search of more women to take.

Anderson awoke to the pain of broken ribs. Blinking, she looked at her surroundings. She was still in the clearing in which the leader-plant was rooted. She was being held firmly in place by the vines of a plant. Beside her, she could see her comrades similarly held. She had a terrible feeling of déjà vu, this had happened to her before. Across the clearing, she saw a barrel of herbicide, unopened and useless. She tried to struggle but a new pain appeared; it seemed that all her limbs were broken. Crying out, she attracted the attention of the offspring in the area. About a dozen were present in the clearing; one of the older ones came forward.

“I have been chosen to speak for the masters,” the offspring told her. She was a naked young woman, sporting the green hair and eyes of all the offspring. She reminded Anderson of an older version of Venus. “You have many around us with your red mist,” the offspring continued, “We want to know about it, so it cannot harm us again.”

Even if Anderson had known anything about the herbicide, she wouldn’t have told them. Held painfully immobile, she couldn’t even struggle as the offspring lifted her hand towards her. “If you won’t tell us voluntarily,” she said, as two tendrils appeared from her wrist, “I will get the information another way.”

“Nooooo!” cried Renae, crashing into view. She arrived moments ago and had been watching the proceedings unfold. She wasn’t about to let her friend have her mind invaded. Courageously, she charged across the clearing, swinging her machete. She reached the barrel before the offspring could stop her. She stood over it and raised her blade over her head.

“You want to know about this stuff?” she shouted to them as they approached, “Here, find out first hand!” Just as she was about to drop the machete, a vine whipped around her arms and lifted her off the ground. Screaming in frustration, Renae kicked wildly about, desperate to finish the job. More and more vines snaked around her. The machete fell from her grip, impaling itself point down in the ground.

The leader of the offspring calmly walked over to Renae as she was lowered slowly to face her. “That must have been disappointing,” she told her quietly, “Maybe you are the one I need to question.” She smiled as she lifted her hand again.

A sudden commotion suddenly drew her attention. Grant had just appeared, charging around the base of the leader-plant and into view. He briefly stopped in his tracks as her looked ahead of him. Sniffing the air he knew he had found what had been driving his search: fresh women. He saw past the offspring, which didn’t smell right, and saw several females all held in place before him. He bounded straight for them, howling in pure animal lust.

“Stop him!” cried the offspring leader, “I don’t want the prisoners damaged!” The assembled offspring ran to intercept Grant. Some grabbed at him, thorns appearing on their bodies. To Grant, this was a direct challenge. These creatures were trying to keep him from his women! Snarling and snapping at them, he threw them aside with an inhuman strength. They attacked him en mass, slashing his skin with their thorny arms. Grant didn’t seem to feel the pain. He went completely berserk, tossing them aside as if they were rag dolls. The leader of the offspring ran over to help them but was also knocked away. His enemies defeated, Grant ran over to receive his prize.

Looking them over, he quickly decided that the tall blonde one would be acceptable for his first mating; she at least was conscious. He was just going over to her, when he heard a noise. He listened again and heard a familiar sound, a noise a part of him remembered.

“Richard!” Renae called again, “Richard!” He stopped, his interest in the blonde forgotten. He padded over this new woman, the one who had made the familiar sound. He sniffed the air again and new memories were awoken. Deep within his mind, something stirred, something human.

“Re..Re..nee,” his mouth formed the sounds.

“Yes Richard; Renae!” the captive woman said, “Richard, you’ve got to help us!” He looked at her baffled by her words. He sensed that this woman meant something to him, and that she was in distress. That was enough. He suddenly leapt forward, taking the plant that held Renae completely off guard. He savagely tore his teeth into the vines that held her. They spurted green sap and let her go. The plant turned on its attacker, its vines wrapping round Grant instead. Snarling and spitting in rage, Grant was held in place.

Renae dashed across the clearing, retrieving her machete. Already the offspring had recovered and were running towards her. There could be no mistakes now! She sprinted over to the barrel and smashed her machete blade down on it. There was a tremendous crash of metal against metal as the blade hit, but the force of Renae’s attack had been enough; the top of the barrel split open and red liquid sprayed out! Within seconds, great clouds of red mist engulfed the whole area. All around, offspring and plants blistered as they came into contact with the mist. They collapsed on to the ground, dead. Renae’s friends were released from their captors as the plants died, as did the one holding Grant.

“I must make sure,” Renae said and lifted the barrel up. She brought it directly beside the base of the leader-plant and poured the herbicide out around it. The liquid sank into the earth, getting to the roots. The plant was doomed! As it took effect, the massive plant started to writhe in pain. Breeders were discarded from its branches, as the pain became agonising. Renae watched in supreme satisfaction through the mist as the great plant started to turn black. All the plants around, as far as the eye could see, were sharing their leader’s suffering, its signal affecting them all. As it died, branches and vines started to fall from it.