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Townsend congratulated himself on his restraint.
It was not easy, in the days and weeks since their latest development.
He’d never had much trouble before. Back then, he’d thought of their sole independent plant as an idle curiosity, occasionally a mild irritant. There was a certain pleasure in the sheer control they had over it, in how much bare skin he was entitled to observe, or touch, but it was a casual enjoyment he encountered largely as a side effect of the necessary work they did rather than anything he actively pursued.
It was fundamentally a scientific disappointment. He hated the way its eyes would follow him around the room. If he spared time to think of it off the clock, it was with irritation with himself, and a quick fist.
That was before he had seen it sweat glistening and writhing though, its pussy leaking slick all down its thighs.
It was only through sheer force of will that he avoided cracking a very awkward workplace erection.
They’d studied it when they acquired it, so he knew its anatomy closely resembled a female human’s, but he’d never seen it like that. Never so desperately wanting, it’s whole body practically begging for a cock to stuff it full.
A form of heat. A sign of fertility. Of budding reproductive maturity.
The thought of... of the possibilities that opened up... It was all consuming. He’d never put together a proposal so hastily.
The creation of new dependant plants had been a major talking point since the fall. The technology for cloning was lost to them, which put humanity in a precarious position. Breeding them was impossible without any male specimens and their incompatibility with human samples.
This independent was different though... it’s DNA was a much closer match to a human’s, likely a callback to the DNA mixed with the original specimen when the species was first developed. Therefore, it was not so implausible to think that, perhaps, it could be compatible. There was no reason not to at least try.
Townsend was careful in his approach though. He allowed his colleagues to select a donor at random and take the clinical route to begin with.
Standing in the room while that went on admittedly gave him another battle to keep the blood from flowing to his cock, but it was worth it to watch as they pried it open and emptied the plunger inside it.
Conception was confirmed only days later.
Still, he was patient. Permitted himself nothing more than the odd lingering touch, and lengthy showers when he had time alone to indulge.
It was... a new horizon, measuring the plant’s steady gains. Witnessing its narrow little waist begin to fill out while it stood clueless and dumb to the whole situation.
He wasn’t even disappointed when it suddenly miscarried, not when it meant they could run the whole process all over again. As a scientist, the repetition should frustrate him. As a man, it did not.
He let them inseminate it in the lab the second time too.
And the third.
But the fourth...
Well, Townsend had been remarkably restrained. He was due a reward.
What difference did the methodology really make, when the end result would be the same? They wanted it pregnant. He would get it pregnant. And a few of them might whine about it later, but their opinion was meaningless, and they’d come to accept his approach once they’d had time to acclimatise themselves to the idea.
He sat glued to the monitoring screens as he watched the drugged water be delivered by the day’s goons. Continued to watch as the plant drank. As it lay down. As its eyes slid closed, and it went still. Waited a few minutes longer just to be sure.
Then Townsend turned off the cameras and went to visit its cell.
His heart felt as if it were beating very fast as he stepped inside and locked the door.
He approached the bed where it lay slowly, alert for any sign of wakefulness.
It didn’t sir to the sound of his footsteps. When he sat down on the edge of its bed, there was no reaction. When he dared to touch one of its skinny legs, still, nothing.
Townsend much preferred the sight of it asleep. There was something almost angelic to its features that way, when he could admire the softness of its cheeks and cute point of its nose and the fan of its long lashes without those piercing blue eyes boring into him.
Its breaths were deep and even.
He allowed his hands to roam, skating up its legs and over its hips, under its tunic. He fumbled with the clasp so he could pull the fabric open and aside, giving himself full view of its chest and stomach.
He really had caught it at the perfect age. All the delightful fragility of youth, but with the hint of something sinful just beginning to make itself known... He’d hazard a guess it would have wide birthing hips once it was fully grown.
He liked them better like this.
Moving lower, he groped at its legs again. The entire top half of the plant’s leggings were soaked through, and a mere touch of that wetness had his cock twitching hopefully.
“All ready for me, are you?” he teased it, stroking its inner thigh. “Don’t worry, I’ll put you to use soon.”
His patience was fraying as he hooked his thumbs beneath its waistband and eased its leggings down. The floral scent in the air grew stronger. He finally managed to wrangle them off of each ankle and toss them aside, and then there was nothing to keep him from his prize.
The independent plant was close to a female human, but there were a few differences. Four sets of outer lips in a star fold rather than the typical labia, all spread open from arousal, the rosy pink of their inner lining gleaming with slick. The sensory organ they had decided was intended for pleasure was fatter and sat lower down than a human clitoris. These were all surface level details he felt neither one way or the other about.
It was hairless, and the seductive wink of its vaginal entrance beckoned him. That was what he cared about.
His cock was already hard before he even unbuckled his belt, straining in the confines of his pants until he freed it, giving it a couple of indulgent strokes as he situated himself comfortably and dragged the plant closer, manipulating its thighs so they were spread wide and open for him.
It really was a sight to behold; his raw length bobbing eagerly above its exposed pussy. So wet. So inviting.
Townsend bent forward, near trembling as he lay his cock against that sweet, perfect heat, rolling his hips so he slicked over its folds, admiring just how far his length would glide up against its bare stomach.
The sleeping plant looked so small in comparison. Dainty. He couldn’t wait to split it open. He was sure he would reach all the way to its womb, where he could deposit his seed with no doubts that it would take. Pump it so full of him.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he told it absently. “Been squirming around for hours, waiting for someone to give it to you. And I will. Oh, I will.”
He could scarcely contain his excitement as he took his cock in his hand, slick with its juices, and lined himself up. Held one of its thigh up and open to make it easier on himself as he pushed against its entrance.
It was a tight fit. So tight he had to strain a little despite how obscenely wet it was, but gradually his cockhead began to sink in, and oh, oh! Nothing compared to the delight as its body surrendered to him, sucking him in as his tip popped through that first resistance and plunged deeper into its scorching heat.
It was a shame there was no maidenhead for him to claim, but he could take satisfaction in knowing that he was still its first. The very first cock to fill it. The only cock to fill it, if he had his way – it could be just his. His to fill again and again, as he pleased.
He moaned, breath strained as he sank another few inches. “You’ll make a perfect cumdump for me. A broodmare. Look at you, already taking it like a proper little slut.”
Its youthful face was passive and serene, a delicious contrast to the view of its greedy pussy stretched tight around the girth of his full adult cock.
Townsend pressed further. Further. In and in and in until he finally hilted himself to the base, his pubes wetted in its slick. A part of his mind strayed back to the image of his length laid out against its stomach, envisioning how far inside he must be seated. He stroked his thumb over the skin there, applying a little pressure, imagining he could feel himself through that thin layer of flesh.
Slowly he slid out. When only the tip remained, he thrust forward and revelled in the squelching sound the motion made. He did it again. Groaned his satisfaction as he dragged out each note of friction with painstaking deliberation.
“Finally found a good use for you,” he gasped. “Good for taking cock. My cock.”
He wanted it to last. And yet, he wanted more as well. It was so difficult to resist the temptation of its body when it was squeezing him so hungrily. Before he knew it, Townsend was fucking into the plant properly, gripping its narrow waist so he could yank it into each smack of his hips.
It was so small and light in his grasp. There was a thrill in how easy it was to manhandle, how his thrusts were enough to jolt it, its head lolling as it slid up and down the bed, the messy flop of its hair spilling across its face.
Townsend wondered if its pregnancy progressed far enough if it would finally develop some breasts. The narrow, boney cage of its chest had a certain allure, but he would have loved to admire a pair of breasts bouncing in time to his rhythm. Nice creamy little mounds – not big, just the hint of something delicate and feminine, still growing, still untainted by weight of years. The dependant variety lacked much in the way of endowment so perhaps they would stay that way forever.
Something to look forward to.
He thumbed at its nipple.
“I’m going to knock you up,” he told the plant, hissed like a dirty secret into its ear. “Fill you with my cum. Get you pregnant. That little belly of yours will get bigger and bigger, and you won’t even know, will you, you stupid thing? Won’t even know what I’ve put inside you.”
He could measure it week by week. Smooth his hands over its stomach and preen at the though of a piece of himself growing within.
“And after,” he continued breathlessly, “whatever happens to it, I’ll give you another. Keep you nice and bred. A perfect little incubator. Maybe... maybe I’ll let someone else father a few, and I can fuck those too. Have a whole line of you just waiting for my cum, a whole plant breeding program.”
He moaned aloud at the idea, still pounding away into its sopping pussy.
He was stretching the limits of what the team might allow with that one, but Townsend didn’t really care – the reality of the possibility mattered less than the thought. It was a fantasy worth indulging in for a few luxurious seconds as his pleasure neared its peak.
He let go of the plant’s hips in favour of grasping it below the knees, pushing them back so he could fold it over and press it down into the mattress.
“Yes,” Townsend keened, thrusting frantically, “yes, take it, take my cum, take it all.”
His balls were drawing up in anticipation. He mouthed at its skin, lapping at the sharp line of its collarbone, stealing the taste of it sweat.
It was with tongue against its pulse point that his orgasm rocked through him all at once. He shoved his cock as deep as it would go, the tip snugly against its cervix as it spurted, emptying the first rope of cum into its fertile womb. And the next. And the next.
Townsend’s moan was a wanton thing.
He held himself still, lost in the rush of his release. In the knowledge that his seed was flooding it and conception would soon follow. That almost certainly, he had personally impregnated it, an achievement that would keep him warm long after the memory began to fade.
It wouldn’t be long before he had the joy of observing the proof of his triumph.
Only when the last desperately wanting dribbles of cum were wrung from his aching cock and he began to soften did Townsend reluctantly pull out. He sat back, catching his breath for a moment.
If he had been a younger man, the sight of the plant spread out below him with its gaping pussy leaking slick onto the sheets would have roused him for another plunge, but as it was he merely soaked up the view to play over in his mind later.
He was caught between the desire to watch his cum run out of it, and to have it stay inside where it was supposed to be. He almost pushed a finger into it to see if he could find the traces of himself but managed to resist.
He would leave it. The plant would remain on its back, his seed settling without gravity to empty it. If any did drip out then the thing would simply assume it was more of its own wetness when it stirred.
Moving methodically, Townsend cleaned himself off, got his pants back on, did up his belt, then picked up the crumpled heap of the plant’s leggings.
It was a lot less exciting pulling them up than taking them off, but he consoled himself with a few lingering touches. His fingers smoothed over its stomach lovingly.
His womb to claim.
His, to use repeatedly.
There would be many good years ahead of them, even if there would be a painful wait until he had the justification to act again.
He knew he would be back.