currently thinking about a poor cuntboy getting stranded in an alien jungle and stumbling upon a plant that doesn't enjoy having it's territory invaded and decides this is the perfect opportunity to propagate itself. it strings up the poor lost boy as he struggles, rips through his already tattered and dirty clothes just enough to find his tight cunt, and forces its way in, writhing and pushing as far in as it can get with its slimy excretions coating his insides. the pointed, flared tip forces itself against his cervix before it starts to retract, which is when he unfortunately discovers the sharp spines lining the appendage that drag painfully against his walls before it slams back in against his cervix. the appendage fucks him as he struggles and yells against the pain of its abuse every time it retracts, and he can only cry as his cervix weakens at the increasing force of each thrust. he isn't sure if he should be relieved or terrified when the thing finally breaks through the tight opening of his cervix. it continues to thrust in and out painfully several time and he can feel the flared head pull at his cervix as if it's going to rip through it trying to pull out of him. finally it pushes in one last time and stills inside his womb as his cervix tenses and tries to close around the intrusion. he thinks it must be done as he tries to catch his breath between dry sobs until he feels a sharp stinging stretch inside his womb. in his fucked-out and exhausted state he can hardly comprehend what this thing might be doing to him as the appendage rapidly expands and the flared head unfurls in his womb to lock it in place with the help of tiny spines pushing into the flesh of his cervix. he can feel it pull his cervix open further now that it's securely in place and all he can do is let out cries as he's stretched impossibly wide...
i can't decide how I want this story to end so i'll leave it up to your creative discretion ;)
In a situation like that, with his cervix stretched open and his cunt tortured by the spines of that plant, it's no wonder he can only scream and cry. That strange flared head flowering open inside of his womb makes things worse, of course, especially with the way it can anchor itself inside - there's no way he's getting away from this plant anytime soon, nor is there any way he's getting it out of his abused cunt. All he can do is shiver and sob in his bonds as the plant adjusts itself slightly, ensuring that it's seated nice and deep, opening up his womb for its next moves.
A lump, round and smooth, slides from the main body of the plant and down the vine inside of the cuntboy, almost as large as a fist. He whimpers as it presses against his cunt, then yelps when it pops inside; his breathing speeds up when the lump reaches his cervix. He knows what it is now. It's a seedpod, and the plant is using him to assist in the germination process, no matter how brutal it has to be. It presses into his already-weak cervix with more and more force, the pain escalating alongside it until it messily pops inside with a gush of sap. He can feel the hard-shelled thing settle into his womb as another seedpod rolls down the vine, treating him just as harshly as the first, and his womb is already uncomfortably full by the time a third seed joins the first two.
The plant doesn't stop, pumping him full of round, hard-shelled seedpods that scrape together inside of him. The pressure of the seeds makes the pain of the spines worse, of course, and he just sobs as his belly swells, stretching tight over the unclear lumps beneath his skin. There must be at least two dozen inside of him by the time the plant's activity slows to a halt, and he's left breathing shakily, limp and weak.
It's not done with him. The difficulty of unlatching from the boy's womb and cervix makes him cry out all over again, moaning and whimpering in pain as the head again retreats back through his cervix and scrapes against his tender pink walls, but that's nothing compared to what it does next. The alien plant, still unhappy with having its territory encroached upon like that, decides that the trespasser needs more punishment while the seeds inside of him are growing, and promptly enacts that punishment in the form of another spiny appendage invading his asshole, immediately pressing deep into his guts. The boy just whimpers, barely able to react in any other way.
Another vine treats his pisshole similarly, but this one is at least thinner and smoother, sliding up his urethra with barely any effort. He moans when it thickens and stiffens, plugging him up, and then yelps in pain as spines flick out of the head to anchor the thing in place, ensuring maximum discomfort for him as retribution for disturbing the plant's home. Another smooth vine forces its way down his throat and starts pumping him full of a sweet-smelling sap, as though the plant is determined to make sure he's absolutely miserable by the time he's allowed to push out those seedpods.
The textured vine in his guts explores deeper and deeper, occasionally jerking or twitching to press itself into his walls, and the vine in his pisshole gradually thickens at a barely-detectable pace while his bladder fills, courtesy of the vine pumping liquid into his stomach. Meanwhile, his stomach bloats quickly, unable to process fluid as fast as the plant can pump it into him, and the seeds in his womb keep growing in the meantime, making him look even more pregnant than before. All of these factors combined leave the boy twitching and moaning in pain, tortured with a full womb, full guts, full stomach, full bladder.
Finally, the plant seems to have had enough. The vine slides out of his mouth first, and he coughs, fighting for a full breath. Another appendage coils up atop the cuntboy's bloated midsection, and applies pressure; the message is clear. He has to push those seedpods out, or else the plant will have further punishments in store for him.
He groans, and obeys, starting by straining with the first of the bunch. It presses against his cervix from the inside, and the pain of having his abused cervix stretched open all over again makes more tears well up in his eyes. He knows the plant could just do worse to him, if he doesn't perform up to its standards, so he forces himself to fight through the pain in order for the seed to pop out of his womb and slide wetly from his cunt. The next follows much the same, and the next after that is easier, if anything; maybe his body is getting used to it. The plant seems to detect that the cuntboy isn't suffering as much as he should be, and takes the opportunity to start thrusting the vine in his guts, plunging it in and out, making sure those spines are scraping horribly against all of his inner walls. The boy moans, high-pitched and terrified, but continues to bear down anyway.
Four, five, six, seven. Despite the pain, it's getting easier as his cervix learns to give up in the face of his full womb. Eight, nine. His bladder feels close to bursting, and his constant straining doesn't help. Ten, eleven, twelve. Halfway there. Thirteen. Fourteen. As he nears the last handful of pods in this clutch, the vine in his pisshole relaxes. Hope rises in his chest, and his efforts are renewed - maybe the plant will let him finally release, after he gives birth to all of these seedpods. Please, please, please - he doesn't know if the plant can even understand him, but between moaning and crying, he begs it to take the vine out of his urethra and free him.
The plant answers his prayers. With his cervix stretched around the final seedpod, larger than all the others, the vine finally withdraws those spines and yanks itself out of the cuntboy's pisshole. The sheer euphoria of finally being allowed to piss himself and give birth to the last of the seedpods makes him cum, violently, explosively, howling his ecstasy to the jungle. It's pathetic, for him to cum from pissing himself, and he knows that somewhere in his head, but he doesn't care - it just all feels too good for him right now, everything else chased away by relief and pleasure.
Finally, the plant seems to think that it's taught the cuntboy his lesson, and retreats back into the jungle. Shakily, the boy reaches down to feel out the damages - he seems mostly intact, if stinging and sore. And much, much looser than he was at the start. A thrill goes through his chest when he easily slides an entire fist into his ruined cunt.
Maybe he should find another one of those plants sometime.
