Part I
The Day

It was a sunny afternoon - Blue lazed on the couch, stretching and yawwwning as he reached for the TV remote to start the next episode of the cartoon series he was watching, accidentally knocking his soda off the coffee table as he forgot to keep track of his tail. The blue dragon yelped, scrambling to pick it up off the floor before everything spilled out, but a long, green tendril held the can suspended just off the floor. The dragon glanced up, grinning sheepishly at his ever watchful plant caretaker - an unusual companion, Herman was a potted plant composed of thick green tendrils who had taken care of the dragon since he was just a hatchling. His terra-cotta planter still bore the playful, multicolored letters spelling out his name that Blue had painted onto the side of his pot when he’d learned to write. 

	“Thanks Herman…. Sorry… I know I need to be more careful. My tail has a mind of its own sometimes!” he said apologetically to the plant. Herman, for his part, moved one of his tendrils up near Blue’s nose, waggling it side to side, seeming to scold the dragon, setting the can back down on the table - markedly nearer the center than before. 

Herman made a tapping motion, bending his tendril as though he were wearing a watch on his “wrist”. Blue groaned, letting his head flop backward, his orange hair bobbing between his horns with the motion. “Come on, one more episode, pleeease?”. The plant folded two tendrils on his pot, as if putting his hands on his hips. “I caaannn’t…I hate cleaning!” Blue protested, flopping back down onto the couch. “Let’s do it tomorrow!” he said, hitting the play button on the remote, the pre-episode commercials starting to run. 

Herman wasn’t having it; he shuffled his pot behind the couch - Blue assumed he had won, and that the plant was picking up the throw pillows he’d tossed behind the couch to make room for his stuffed animals that morning. Herman ignored the pillows though, stealthily driving his tendrils between the couch cushions behind the lazy dragon. By the time Blue noticed what was happening, it was too late and he found his wrists held fast by tendrils like iron, more sliding up through his pajama sleeves along his bare scales, others darting through his wing cuffs to find his most sensitive places and - Blue screamed with laughter as Herman tickled under his arms and along his ribs, refusing to let the squirming dragon escape. 

The tickling went on for some time, Blue making little headway to escape the strong plant. Unbeknownst to the struggling pair, the final advertisement played briefly across the TV - a recall for tainted plant food. The advertisement didn’t go into much detail, but they stressed the importance of returning the food, as there had been a mixup at the factory and it could result in “unpredictable” results in plants. 

Blue finally yelled out that he would help clean the house if Herman would stop tickling him, admitting defeat, anything to make Herman stop! The crafty plant had indeed let up, releasing Blue’s wrists and wrapping all of his tendrils around the panting dragon’s body in a tight hug, lifting him bodily off the couch for a moment, ruffling his hair consolingly. After helping Blue change out of his pajamas, (and the soaked diapers that he insisted were dry prior to the tickle attack), and into work pants and an oversized plaid button-up shirt full of patches the dragon used for chores, Herman rolling his sleeves up for him, the two set to work cleaning up the house. Blue crinkled about his bedroom, picking up toys and stuffed animals he’d left scattered about, sweeping the floor where Herman pointed, starting the washing machine (after Herman had helped him lift the heavy detergent bottle to fill the cartridge). The dragon was, admittedly, a bit old to still be wearing diapers, but between night-time accidents and Blue abashedly admitting that they made him feel safe and “comfy”, the kind caretaker plant had acquiesced and continued to help the juvenile Blue into them before bed every night and even during the day on weekends when his busy parents were away. Blue lived with only one of them on account of them being separated, and their work kept them away much of the time, his father often disappearing for days at a time on the weekends, to do what, Blue did not know. He didn’t mind, it just gave Herman and him more time to make up silly games, draw, play in the yard, and work on his homework together. He’d even gotten Herman to play video games with him sometimes, though the plant was too un-practiced to play anything too fast-paced. 

By the time the two finished tidying up the house, the sun was beginning to set, the warm orange-gold light glowing in through the windows, that inviting transition from daytime to night making the dragon feel energized and excited. He’d always loved night time. He could feel tired all day, (especially when he read his science fiction novels a little too late into the evening), but once the “golden hour” came, he’d feel strangely energized. This was the case now, as, despite begrudgingly cleaning all day, he excitedly helped Herman prepare dinner. The caretaker was a pretty lousy cook, one of the few things Herman didn’t excel at, but he could handle simple meals, such as the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets and broccoli he was making tonight. 

Blue scrambled up onto the counter, Herman tugging his pants halfway down his bottom teasingly once he was mostly up, showing off his cartoon printed diapers, (the pair constantly played tricks on eachother - he was lucky Herman hadn’t pinched him or stuck another marshmallow on the tip of his horns like usual), Blue sticking his tongue out and tugging his pants back up before pulling the new box of plant food out of the cabinet and hopping down again. 

Herman could have prepared his own dinner, but Blue liked doing something in return for his caretaker, and enjoyed stirring the green liquid into the pitcher of water each night. Strangely, he noted, the water turned pink instead of the usual green today. Odd, but the new color excited him - he wondered if Herman would be able to “taste” a difference? He scrambled over before the plant could take note himself and poured the whole pitcher in the center of Herman’s pot, waiting. Herman, unperturbed, continued his work of making dinner, giving the helpful dragon a friendly pat on the head in thanks absently. Huh. He could, in fact, not taste “pink”, it turned out. 

	Dinner was uneventful, the pair watching more cartoons in front of the television, Bue finally getting to catch up on a few more episodes before Herman had taken the remote away and turned the television off. He kept the dragon’s TV time limited, and the dragon had resorted to playing with plastic construction bricks on the floor, laying down in an oversized t-shirt and diaper, having forgone pants after Herman had helped him change again for the evening. His caretaker held a book in one tendril, scanning the letters with another, delicately arched in the air before the pages. Blue wasn’t sure how he saw things, but he seemed to be able to do so via the ends of each tendril in any case. The two spent the rest of the evening this way, though, a little out of character, he kept finding that Herman had let the book lower below his vision, the tendril that had been reading pointe at him, oddly attentive to the dragon. Each time Blue had noticed, Herman had shaken himself and returned to the book. Odd - Herman always kept an eye on Blue, but he didn’t usually stare like that. 

Eventually, Blue yawwned again, stretching out on the carpet and going to pick one of his completed “spaceships” up, finding a tendril poking at his shoulder, another pointing at the bedroom. Herman signaled that it was bedtime, and Blue knew that there was no arguing with his caretaker about that. Besides, he was pretty tired. The dragon crinkled to his feet sleepily, rubbing his eyes and letting Herman guide him to bed where, after brushing his teeth and a final diapee check, Herman zipped him into his sky-blue fleece footed PJ’s and tucked hiim into bed for the night. The plant scooted over to the corner and switched on the purple light that he slept beneath (which also served as a night-light for his dragon), and settled in for the night. 

Blue smiled and wriggled into his freshly washed blankies, turning over on his side so Herman wouldn’t see, popping his thumb into his maw and drifting off to sleep… 

Part II 
The Night
When Blue next awoke, it wasn’t morning. He couldn’t hear lawnmowers running in the distance or the neighbor kids he sometimes played with shouting in the distance. Birds were not chirping outside - in fact, he couldn’t hear much of anything - it was eerily quiet. Something wet and slimy moved against his face. He panicked for a moment, pulling his thumb from his mouth with a string of saliva. It took his sleep-addled mind a moment to comprehend that the faint glowing above him was Herman. He was glowing! Pink! The plant was stroking his cheek, his normally dry, slightly rough tendril leaving behind a warm, gooey substance on his scales. What was going on?!, he thought, suddenly noticing that he wasn’t actually in his bed any longer, but rather, cradled in the plant’s tendrils, much like one might hold a baby or a very young child, suspended over his pot almost…maternally. He suddenly realized with some discomfort that his whole back felt slimy, everywhere that the tendrils were touching. 

“H-Herman, what’s going on? Why are you glowing?” he asked, rubbing his eyes with both paws, realizing that his pajamas were gone too, leaving him clad in just his toonish diapers. Herman must have undressed him in his sleep. The plant gently caressed his wrist, lifting it up to Blue’s face once more, a gooey tendril sliding up his scales to trace along his soft paws until it had delicately wrapped around the thumb that had been in his mouth mere moments ago, the goo mixing with the dragon saliva still coating the digit. Herman lazily, unsteadily, almost drunkenly waggled a tentacle in front of the dragon’s nose again, seeming to chastise him for sucking on his thumb again. It was something Herman had tried to dissuade the dragon from doing, after all. Usually the forbearing plant would simply replace his thumb with one of the pacifiers he kept squirreled away for his little dragon, but tonight, he produced a bottle, one that Blue noticed with a sense of dread, was glowing with that same pink hue as the goo coating Herman. 

The dragon began to struggle, shoving his arms out to press the bottle away from his maw, but Herman quickly took hold of his wrists, forcing him to wrap his paws around the bottle, making him draw the unwanted liquid towards his own muzzle. “H-HERMAN! What are you doing? I don’t WANT it, what’s WRONG wif yo-” - he was cut off as the nipple was forced into his maw, the plant again moving drunkenly, wrapping a tendril around his snout to force it closed around the teet of the bottle. 

Blue writhed and refused to drink, but it didn’t do a lot of good against the amazingly strong appendages holding him in place, especially when Herman began squeezing the bottle to force the goo into his mouth. He wanted to spit it out, but there was nothing he could do with his mouth held shut. Dragons could bite down, hard, but much like other reptiles, they didn’t have a lot of opening strength - not that it would have mattered even if he had; Herman was strong. REALLY strong. He’d once seen the plant casually tilt a car onto two tires to retrieve a toy that Blue had accidentally lost beneath it. 

As the pink stuff coated his tongue, he realized it was oddly sweet - he’d thought it’d taste funny, but it was herbal, sweet, and…a bit medicinal. Like if someone had mixed tea and cough syrup. He didn’t really like it, but it wasn’t the worst thing he’d been made to take in his life. Everywhere it touched, it burned and made him feel warm - like really warm, kind of tingly - and he could feel it spreading. It kind of felt like when he’d gone to the dentist and they’d put the funny mask on his face and told him to breathe deep. 

As he was forced to swallow the goo, he felt himself relaxing, his jaw growing slack, his struggling dying down as he laid in Herman’s “arms”. He still knew what was going on, he still knew that something was wrong - something was very wrong with Herman - but he didn’t seem to care as much, and he just couldn’t bother to do much about it, especially when he felt this nice and warm and tingly. 

The dazed dragon still had enough presence of mind to feel his cheeks flushing when he realized he was wetting his diapers though, the patter audible to both of them in the dead quiet room - he might have night time accidents, but he had enough potty training that he didn’t go without meaning to when he was awake. What was Herman feeding him? Herman, noticing that the dragon had stopped struggling, began to pry Blue’s jaws apart - he still resisted a little - until he had them open enough to unscrew the nipple from the bottle, holding his mouth open, a tendril pressing against his tongue to keep it in place as he emptied the remaining goo between his jaws and rubbed it on the dragon’s gums and cheeks forcefully. He was starting to feel more like a pet than the dragon that Herman gently, lovingly cared for.

Herman set Blue down in a sitting position on the bed with a squish - the young dragon blushed; he’d flooded his diapers, all the way to the back in one go. Even sound asleep, he didn’t usually let go that deeply. Whatever Herman had given him was potent stuff, and though he urged his body to get up, run out of the house to find help, he didn’t move - somehow he just felt too nice to get up, sort of like when he was warm in his bed, so comfortable he couldn’t move to get ready for school, no matter how much Mrs. Horse scolded him. Herman was stroking his cheek with his warm, slimy tendril again, but for the first time in the young dragon’s life, he felt his plant caretaker shivering, his motions feverish and uncoordinated. He was definitely not giving Herman pink plant food again, he thought worriedly.  

The next thing he knew, he felt Herman checking his diapers, a tendril squishing at his soggy diaperfront; not unexpected, especially given that they’d both heard his accident…but unlike during the day, when he’d simply carried Blue off for a change despite the protests that he was still playing, that tendril actually caressed the drooping diaper this time. He felt the squishy diaper starting to lift and fall against his scales as Herman squished it against him, rubbing the soggy material into him. What a strange thing to do, Blue thought, sitting passively on the edge of the bed still, supporting his weight with arms locked at his sides, palms flat on the bed behind him. It did feel kind of nice though, making his tummy flutter in a funny way. 

The same tendril began to snake its way to the side, under his legcuffs, pushing past the leakguards to actually go inside his diapers. What was Herman doing? This wasn’t how he changed Blue’s diapers norm- “AHH!” the dragon yelped out as he felt the tip of the invading tendril beginning to invade the scaley slit between his legs! “H-Herman! T-that’s my p-private place, you can’t go inside the-AHH!” he mewled, an odd, almost ticklish, overwhelming sensation shooting through him, making his tail stick straight out as Herman’s probing tendril touched something inside him and started rubbing. He GRABBED the invading tendril with both paws, the sensation strong enough to let him cut right through the haze holding his body in place, tugging it away from his insides, gaining some relief for a moment. 

His respite was brief though, more of those frenzied tentacles taking hold of Blue’s wrists AND ankles with a grip like a vice, holding him in the same sitting position, arms slowly, inexorably moved back to where they were before, immobilized, as the invading tendril slid back inside of him, making the dragon whimper. The plant must have felt a little bad, because another appendage slithered up the dragon’s tummy, chest, and neck to gently caress his face again in what Blue assumed must have been an attempt to calm him. 

He could feel the tendril rubbing away at something inside him once more, and Blue found his jaw hanging open as he twitched in Herman’s grip. It felt funny, but at the same time, it felt…it felt good. He blushed, ashamed of the feelings, though he didn’t know why, as Herman coaxed his member out of hiding and into that soggy diaper, making him curl his toes and body with each slimy stroke down its length, bucking his hips, somehow wanting more despite his trepidation. 

The dragon panicked again as he lurched into the air for a moment, finding himself suddenly on all fours on his racecar bed, his backside facing Herman so he couldn’t see what was happening. “Herrrman, l-lemme go, you’re…you’re making me feel funny, I don’t understand.. H-heelp! HEEELP!” he shouted, realizing he needed someone to come STOP the plant. He wasn’t right, he was sick, it was all Blue’s fault - he’d fed him that strange plant food! He shouldn’t have… “I’m sorry Herman - *sniff* - I-I-i saw that your food was p-pink and I..please just stop? I p-promise I’ll clean and I won’t EVER play anot-th-ther prank on  y-y-you again” he choked out. 

But his pleas fell on deaf ears - whatever was wrong with Herman, he wasn’t really Herman right now. He heard something crinkling behind him, Herman squeezing at his bottom. He yelped as the plant pinched him just below his leg cuff, seeming to remind him that everything would be okay like he did when Blue was feeling morose under normal circumstances. His eyes went wide as he suddenly felt something wiggling at the bottom of the cuff around his big dragon tail, something warm and gooey. 

He scrunched his face up, trying to figure out what was going on as another tendril worked its way into his diapers from the backside before - “”H-H-herman w-what are you -” - he was cut off for the last time that night as Herman snapped his jaw shut, holding his snout down into the blankets. He was face to face with his lion plush, the unseeing eyes locked with his own as he felt Herman begin to slide inside of him, under his tail. It hurt, but the slippery goo coating Herman helped, and, though he wasn’t aware of it, this was largely why the plant had forced him to drink the bottle of his tainted slime earlier, relaxing the dragon’s muscles so he could force his way inside without damaging the hatchling… 

Tears rolling down the quietly whimpering Blue’s cheeks, wriggling, struggling useless against the overpowering plant, Herman found his other goal, this time inside the dragon’s backside. Despite himself, Blue moaned into his blankets as the plant expertly began massaging the little dragon’s prostate, pumping his tendrils in and out of the dragon in time with the one that resumed stroking the juvenile shaft up front, making the soaked diaper flag back and forth, the soggy material betraying the movement within.

It didn’t take long for the corrupted plant to coax Blue’s first orgasm out, forcing the captive dragon to spurt a creamy, glowing pink goo of his own into the front of his diapers with a long moan that escaped his body unbidden. And it wasn’t long until Herman was relieving himself as well, filling the dragon’s backside with more of the pink goo. They both rested a moment, Blue pleading silently with the lion plushie to save him, while also, shamefully excited and thrilled about all the new feelings and sensations the plant had shown him, hungry to learn more. 

And then he felt the tentacle starting to poke and prod at his insides once more…