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                  /)|     KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF    |(\
                 / )|         DIRECTORIES        |( \
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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-  o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o


Late Bloomer (F/plant/preg, sci-fi)
by Dragonfly (c) 1996

***

³Itıs the most interesting find from my trip to the Amazon last summer,²
she proclaimed proudly. ³I suspect the bud will open in the next couple of
days, and I want to be here when my vine blooms.²

The board of directors of the arboretum nodded their approval, and gave
her permission to spend the night on the grounds for the purposes of
researching the new tropical flower. She was thrilled and promised a full
report, showing them her new laptop computer with enthusiasm.
 
The first night was uneventful, but the next day she did notice that the
bud had lost all traces of green color and seemed less pointy at the tip.
She carefully measured the bud, which was indeed slightly fatter since the
previous day, and continued writing her report into the afternoon. After
dinner she returned and settled down on a nearby bench to work on the
report for a different plant while she waited for this one to do
something. She began to nod off at about 3:00 AM, but after getting some
coffee from the machine in the visitorıs center, she started typing again.

The huge flower opened at last, the large white petals unfurling to reveal
the sexual organs of the plant. It began to release a sweet, yet musky
fragrance, and this was what attracted her attention at last. She looked
up, nearly dropping her computer when she saw the size and beauty of the
plantıs display.

³Itıs a night-bloomer, just as I thought!² she exclaimed to no one in
particular.

The botanist strode quickly over to her discovery, opening the appropriate
file in her plant database. She noted the size of the open flower,
measured its four silky petals, noted the absence of any stamens, and
examined the pistol, the flowerıs most interesting and unusual structure.

It was the shape of the handle end of a baseball bat, but with a few
differences. The flat knob at the tip was ruffled and fluted, appearing
delicate, but the structure was actually quite firm to the touch. Another
interesting feature, she noted, was the series of raised ribs encircling
the shaft. She got out her measuring tape.

³Pistol 7-1/8² (18cm) in length, superior position. Ruffled, head-like
stigma, 1-1/2² (3.3cm) in width.² she eagerly typed into her laptop.
³Style and ovary ribbed, style 3/4² (1.9cm) in width at narrowest point,
ovary 2-1/8² (5.8cm) at base. Entire flower highly fragrant.²

Turning her attention now to the intoxicating scent, she bent down and
breathed deeply. The effect was immediate - she became slightly dizzy, and
felt a tingling in her privates, something she suddenly realized she had
missed in the last couple of years. She immediately got down onto her
knees, ignoring the twigs that poked her from out of the half-rotted
mulch, and inhaled the wonderful perfume again. The effect was stronger
this time, and the tingle began creeping towards real stimulation.

³Fragranc of flowr seems unusil an shoud...² she began to type, breathing
deeply of the heavy scent. Unknown to her, the drugıs effect was
cumulative, and the shy tingle had now turned into an insistant pulsation,
accompanied by moisture and desire.

She put the laptop down blindly and breathed in again, closing her eyes.
She only half heard a rustling sound around her as she continued to inhale
in the aroma of the strange plant, becoming more and more stimulated with
each breath. Her hand moved underneath her skirt and past her underwear,
which were now quite wet. As if in a dream, she took her soaked panties
off with one hand as she sought out her pussy with the other, and her head
lolled from side to side as her eyes closed. 

The potent aphrodesiac of the flower had her completely, and she began to
delicately lick the sweet beads of sticky nectar from the sides of the
pistolıs ribbed shaft. Vines began to rustle, then move around her, but
she merely found stimulation in the leafy caresses of the strange plant.

The vines moved around her legs, gently yet strongly encircling her
thighs, and she groaned softly with pleasure. She surrendered to it,
throwing her arms back to let the plant do with her as it would. The thick
branches bore her gently off the ground, supporting her completely as the
vines around her thighs began to spread her legs for her. The vines that
were not holding the woman formed a thick bower around her, sheltering the
scene from view.

The pale, ghostly white flower began to move as well. It raised up until
it was even with the womanıs body, then slowly, gently, touched the
ruffled head of its sex to the pulsating lips of her vagina. She gasped
with pleasure, and her tunnel became hot with desire, twitching of its own
accord in anticipation. The flower pressed against her more insistantly,
and as if in a dream, she reached down with both hands and spread herself
apart eagerly to accept it.

The rough head of the flowerıs organ slipped past her lips and entered her
wet pussy, its irregular texture stimulating her to incredible heights.
She groaned and writhed, and the more her cunt twitched, the more
stimulated she became by the plantıs sex organ.

It slipped deeper, and just as the ruffled head passed by her sensitive
cervix, her pussy lips began to encounter the ribbed shaft. Ring after
ring popped inside deliciously as the head pushed ever deeper. She felt
her hole being stretched wide open as the progressively thicker shaft
forced its way inside her, her pleasure intensifying when the rough head
reached the back of her cunt. Still it pushed deeper, stretching and
straining at the very back of her tunnel, the last few ribs popping their
way suddenly past the entrance to her cunt.

Finally the cool, silky petals caressed her thighs, clit, and ass, and she
exploded into orgasm as she foggily realized the entire thing was deep
inside her. She bucked and thrashed, screaming in pleasure, and the
flowerıs sex organ twisted inside her, stimulating her beyond anything she
had known before. Her orgasm began to wane, but the flower added slow
thrusts in and out to the twisting motion, causing the ribbed shaft to
work her lips and clit. She approached orgasm a second time, and felt a
change in the plantıs pistol inside her. It began to enlarge slightly,
then gave a great spasm as the thinnest part of the shaft suddenly swelled
to almost 3² in thickness deep inside her for a brief moment, the moment
at which she climaxed yet again and felt a cool, wet pressure against the
back of her already stretched tunnel.

She shuddered as the shaft, which had returned to its original dimensions,
slid out of her engorged and pulsating cunt. The vines set her down on the
damp earth gently, then returned to their former positions on the trellis
around her as did the flower. She lay on the ground for a few minutes,
then as the aphrodesiac began to wear off, she sat up and looked at her
pussy. Thick, sticky liquid seeped out from her hole, so she took some on
her finger and examined it carefully. 

She noted the texture, which was the consistancy of honey, and even tasted
it. It was sweet, just as she had expected. But there was something more 
the color was yellowish, and upon closer examination, she determined that
it was from the tiny yellow specks that were suspended in the thick, clear
liquid. Taking out a large plastic collection bag from her field kit, she
stood up and let as much of the liquid as she could run into the bag from
her vagina. She then collected her things, mercifully remembering her
discarded underwear, and headed for home.
Under the microscope on her dining room table, she confirmed her
suspicions that the yellow specks were pollen grains.

³So it only appears to be a female flower, with no visible stamens, but
itıs really the male flower. The pollen must be stored inside what looks
like the ovary. How odd.²

She got a sudden chill as another thought occurred to her.

³If thatıs the case, then how does the plant reproduce? What do the female
flowers look like?²

But in the subsequent months that she studied the plant and its blooms,
the only type of flower she saw develop were like the one that she had...
encountered... and they died within just 24 hours of opening. Perhaps it
was a male plant and needed a whole separate female plant to propagate,
like many fruit trees, she speculated. It took her a couple of months to
notice that her period had stopped. Of course, she couldnıt know about the
tiny green seeds that were forming inside her at the time, the union of
her eggs and the plantıs pollen.

By the middle of winter, five months after her experience with the flower
and three months after a home pregnancy test had turned up negative, she
began to notice that her pants were getting harder to fasten. Finally, one
morning, she laid down on the bed and pressed her fingertips deeply into
her gut, not sure what she would feel. She discovered a collection of
hard, round shapes, something like having a belly full of small apples.
She sat up and pushed harder, trying to count them and realizing at the
same time that they were inside her womb. 

She gasped, understanding immediately what had happened. Upon reflection,
she also wryly concluded that there was probably no need for female
flowers at all, and wondered how many Amazonian girls had found themselves
in the same situation. With her next thought, she wondered what would
happen to her in the months to come.

She didnıt get any larger, so she simply wore dresses and drawstring pants
to work  her condition didnıt show at all under the loose clothes. It
wasnıt until early March that anything happened. She was getting into bed
one evening and felt a slight movement inside her womb. She stopped and
stared down at herself, unsure what to do, and tried to feel the hard
shapes inside her belly with her fingers. They were still there, and
seemed unchanged, so she simply went to sleep and wondered what she would
encounter in the morning.

When she threw the covers off that Saturday morning, she felt another
movement and looked down. A thin, pointed, white ³finger² was protruding
from her pussy lips, looking much like a five-inch ghostly carrot. It was
covered with tiny fibers or hairs, and as she watched in amazement, it
slowly continued to grow. She could feel the tendril sliding out of her
vagina as it grew, and it snapped into her mind that the seeds must be
germinating. This was the strong baby root, and it was searching for some
earth to bury itself in.

Almost without thinking about it, perhaps because she was still
sleep-addled, she waddled carefully over to a large houseplant in the
corner of the room and let the root touch the moist soil in the pot.
Almost immediately the white root burrowed into the large pot, and she was
stuck. She began to panic as she realized she was quite literally rooted
to the spot, but before too long, she felt a hard shape begin to work and
pull its way out of her womb. She began to push it out, working with both
belly muscles and hands, and within about 30 minutes, a dark brown seed
the size of her fist popped out from her wet vagina.
 
But almost as soon as the first seed had worked its way out of her,
another white root began to emerge. She didnıt notice it until it was too
late, and she again found herself attached to the soil. After the second
seed had come free of her, easier and faster than the first, she quickly
got up and found another large plant. The hairy root that was now emerging
eagerly burrowed deeply into the pot, and then a third hard seed was born.


After the fifth seed came, she ran out of large pots in the house, so she
strode carefully out to the back porch, looking for that bag of potting
soil she had left over from last summer. The roots seemed to come faster
and faster, eagerly looking for somewhere to burrow. She got as far as the
middle of the yard when she felt a yank on her womb, and looked down to
see that two more white roots had anchored her to the spot. She had to
wait for the huge seeds to pop out of her hole, one right after the other,
before she could finish making her way to the shed. She got the door open
and stepped inside, but another powerful root stopped any further
progress.

After waiting for this seed to come, she went in and found the soil.
Naturally, just as she got the bag open and sat her sore pussy down on it,
she felt no more movements. Just to be sure, she remained there for some
time, but the seed at the door of the shed seemed to be the last of them.

It took a couple of years for the plants in her bedroom to mature. But one
fall night, just as she was slipping out of her clothes to get ready for
bed, she caught a familiar musky fragrance in the air. She smiled, turned
toward the pot in the corner of the room, and saw the huge flower as it
began to open. She lay down on the bed, inhaling the heady aroma, and was
rewarded a few minutes later with the firm touch of a roughly textured
shape against the lips of her tunnel. The plant was then rewarded as she
reached down eagerly to spread herself wide open with both hands.

