Hypnovember 2023
Prompts - 15.Harvest,23.Pollen,28.Viscous
For ShadeFaux
By Limewah
18+

The heat was blazing. The giant brown rabbit had stripped down a bit, his shirt tied around his waist, his tank top clinging to his round gut. The contents of the large plastic watering jug sloshed around. 
Stephen stooped down to survey his little plot of land - his 5 square metres of horticultural beauty in a spacious communal garden, far enough outside of the city that you barely even heard cars. Nice and relatively secluded

He didn’t grow much there, just things that would make his ingredients for his bakery extra fresh. Things like juicy little berries that popped so easily in one’s mouth, or very sharp, spicy ginger to give that extra little kick to a carrot cake. Some of the other people were a bit bolder, growing brightly coloured flowers or thick bushels of cabbage and cauliflower.
Others had simply thrown a seed bomb in their plot and called it a day, leaving their plot to fill with a beautiful snarl of wildflowers that sadly had to be pruned now and again to keep them from moseying in on the other plots.
Those wildflowers were getting particularly uppity at this particular time, starting to lay siege to one end of his plot; it was a shame to pull the tiny things out just as they were starting to grow, with their roots thinner than a piece of thread… but it had to be done to make sure his ingredients got the nutrition they needed.

He was having to really lay on the water, too… there’d been a long stretch of dry heat lately; great for anthros, not so great for plants. His children were extra thirsty.
A few of the others had asked him if he could make sure the soil wasn’t too dry in their plots as well, so once his affairs were attended to, he began to leisurely saunter from plot to plot and give them splashes of water as was needed.

Something was a little out of the ordinary, though… Normally on a sweltering day like this, he’d expect the walkway to be peppered with tired, dehydrated bees; he had sugar water ready for those occasions to revive the thirsty bugs. But today, there were none. In fact, the bees were far more vibrant and peppy than usual. 
They all seemed to be congregating around a set of flowers a few plots over. There were a half dozen flowers, spread out quite far from each other in what was otherwise a mostly empty plot. 
Whose plot was that? 
The flowers looked… very out of place. The bulbous flowers were sort of tulip shaped, and their leathery petals a particularly bright shade of green, almost neon - he half wondered if they might glow in the dark. They looked like the sort of plant you’d see in a thick, dangerous, undiscovered jungle, or on some alien planet.
The bees were climbing into those rims before emerging absolutely laden with the luminescent pollen, He came in closer and leaned over them for a better look.  and as he examined the flowers, a few buzzed around his head. A little too close for comfort. As he wafted them away, his nose twitched as something slipped inside and tickled it. He couldn’t hold back a startlingly loud sneeze.
“Oh, boy…” he groaned. A sweet, cloying, syrupy scent lingered in his nose afterwards. He watered the flowers and moved on, before doubling back to check in on his own stuff one last time. 
Some stuff was ready for harvest; he dug a large coral of ginger from the soft soil and wiped it down. Snapping a piece open for a sniff test, he got one of the most powerfully sweet and spicy scents he’d ever experienced. It was delicious. Probably the best he’d grown so far.
He tried a couple of the riper berries off the vine. It was almost like they had twice the amount of juice they should have had. When they popped in his mouth, they bathed him in a gorgeous tangy taste.
Blueberry and ginger tarts were a go this week.

-

Well, they would have been. 
Monday, a few people picked them up to go with their afternoon coffees, and from across his bakery-cum-cafe, Stephen could see them going through a religious experience with their first bite. He couldn’t blame them, it’d been the same for him when he tried the test batch. 
By Tuesday, word of mouth spread, and by Thursday the tarts were all anyone wanted. Trying to keep up with demand was incredibly difficult, and he was running out of berries quite quickly. Just one or two in each pie did the work of a fistful of store-bought ones, but he was having to turn away more and more disappointed sweet-toothed customers.
He was worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep this demand up… suddenly, he had food writers and bloggers visiting, clamouring for interviews, and with it the expectation that his spot was going to become one of the hottest spots in the city.
No pressure. 
People were wild for his treats, though… at least, all the stuff that had been made with his own produce. 
He definitely would have to expand.

Mid-week, though, when he went out to his plot, he was surprised to find that his bushers were bearing even more fruit - more than should have normally been possible. It was enough to just barely get him to Friday before, he assumed, he would have to settle for store-bought.
Except… When he visited again, the berries were completely replenished, like some sort of harvesting node in an MMORPG. 
The rest of the plots aside from his own seemed to be growing quite rapidly too, their leaves and petals more vibrant, their yields far greater…
Not least of all were those exotic looking flowers. They’d doubled in size. They seemed even more vibrant than last time, with purple highlights along the rims of each petal. 
And the scent of that pollen seemed to be lingering in the air, along with the constant hum and flutter of pollinators of all sorts.
It seemed too good to be true.

As he was carefully foraging the fat new berries from his bush, he heard footsteps.
“Hey Stephen!” 
He didn’t need to turn to recognise the voice. 
“What’s up, Kam?”
He looked over his shoulder. The white-scaled snake with a shock of purple hair grinned a toothy grin; dressed in boots and a dirty tan pair of overalls, with a little jug of plant food in one of their hands.
“Not much… was gonna feed my flowers, but, uh… someone’s covered it by the looks of it!”
“Mhm.” Stephen stood up. “Definitely wasn’t me. Do you know who’s got that plot there?”
“The one with the alien-lookin’ flowers?”
“Yeah.”
“Not a clue… the weeds stopped growin’ there a while back so I assumed someone was setting up there. But I never saw the soil getting tilled.”
“Interesting.” Stephen’s curiosity was well and truly piqued. Kam seemed to notice that weird look, and tilted their head.
“You thinkin’ of getting to the bottom of it?”
“Yeah, maybe…”

After a day or two of asking around after work, he managed to speak to everyone he knew who owned a plot.  None of them knew where the flowers came from, who owned them, or even when they were tended to.
The gardens closed at around 9 pm… but Stephen had a hunch.
So one Saturday evening - leading into his day off - he took the last bus out to the gardens, arriving shortly after 11 pm. The gate was locked, of course, but someone as tall as him was able to easily scale one of the big wooden walls.
It was quiet, save for the chirp of the various insects and nocturnal creatures who lurked there. He’d dressed in dark clothes, in an attempt to hide his huge frame. He set up a spot far enough away from his plot and the surrounding ones, and he hid.

He had to down an energy drink just a bit after midnight; bakers usually didn’t have the luxury of staying up late, and he was not used to being awake at this hour.
So far there’d been nothing. No one had moved to tend to the flowers.
They didn’t seem to glow in the dark, anyway. Though the moon shone down on them, seeming to give them an almost ethereal sheen.
He swore they were sparkling a little, as well…

Stephen’s nose tickled again. He wiped at it with his forearm. 
It didn’t feel irritated though, strangely enough. He didn’t feel like he needed to sneeze, or cough.
It had a complex scent to it, too, like an intense musky-sweet perfume. It clung to the inside of his nose. The tickling continued. But he felt strangely calm at the same time. He looked around to see if some other plant was doing that, but… no, the scent was exactly like the scent he’d breathed in before.

Stephen knew he was supposed to remain out of sight, stay stealthy, but… something drew him to stand and to move. Not quite on autopilot, but rather close to that, and very conspicuous. 
The flowers were sparkling… no, they were emitting their pollen, somehow wafting it into the air in little puffs, and they floated like dandelion seeds. 
He wanted to get closer, to let them stick to his skin so he could hold onto their scent. So he did.
Eventually, he was standing right over the flowers, looking down at them with an uncanny feeling of excitement and anticipation. The petals of the tulip-like flowers opened up, as if to welcome him inside, rainbow stripes of colour unfurling before him……
The flower was big enough to fit his head. It was like it was growing right before his very eyes… though he was already a little too dazed by the scent to really notice, or care.
He leaned down, placing his face directly against the rim of it and inhaling the sparkling pollen. It stuck to his tongue and his throat. The pollen seemed to melt in his mouth, too, becoming sticky and thick like warm gelatin.

Just as he was really starting to get cosy, the tulip clamped tightly around his head like a hungry mouth.
His fight-or-flight instincts came roaring to the forefront of his mind. 
He grasped and flailed, his strong feet kicking at the dirt as if to try and uproot the flowers. But the firm leathery petals squeezed him tighter, stifling what little oxygen he had, and ensuring he breathed in nothing but the pollen and their aroma. Not only that, Stephen began to feel himself lifting off the ground as his legs kicked. Something was wrapped around his ankles, and they hoisted him up as if he was as light as a plush doll.

The tendrils slithered under the legs of his pants and coiled upwards along his ankles and thighs, heading straight for his crotch… His muffled screams and yelps were quickly turned to shuddering gasps as one tendril wrapped tightly around his cock, and the other around his balls.
He hadn’t even noticed how horny the pollen had made him…
As he opened his mouth to moan again, something pushed into his mouth. It wasn’t the stamens, it was something far thicker, and slightly hollow like a tube. Something thick and sticky began to push in, tasting like the dissolved pollen did, but stronger, more sublime…

He felt drunk. His head felt warm and light. His lips pulled into a smile as he suckled on the tube, coaxing more of that strange fluid out.
His legs were lifted further up, until his head was pointed straight down, all the blood rushing away from it and making him feel even dizzier…
The otherworldly flowers all lifted upwards as one - each one opening up wide to reveal their own ‘tongues’ as more of their thick, mobile roots emerged from the dirt to tear and shear his clothes away, wrapping around his arms, his head, his ears…
He gurgled and groaned with unbridled bliss, as they sprayed and wafted more of that pollen and nectar over his body. His fur glistened and dampened, lubricated to allow those vine-like roots to spread around him, squeezing and dimpling his stomach, caressing his throat, and freeing his cock from its cloth prison. 
As the corruptive, mind-melting substances filled his throat and head, Stephen’s sense of mind-melted intoxication grew stronger still. As his brain grew weaker, something else grew stronger. Lust pushed all the way down his spine, straight into his pelvis, coagulating between his legs.

Stephen’s junk was more sensitive than ever before. His legs were spread wide, to allow space, as that corruption took a new effect. His balls began to grow, at a great pace. Stephen gurgled out some gargling groans, his balls feeling tight and sensitive the way they felt just before a climax. When they grew to the size of oranges, and brushed against his inner thighs, his cock erupted with a squirt of pre-cum that painted his upside-down tummy.
When that happened, a little firework explosion of yummy pleasure popped inside his head. 
As the tube pulled free and the flower opened up, Stephen shook his head with a little burbling noise. The vines adjusted again, lifting him until he was suspended upright again.

“Wheee~” he giggled, looking down over the plot of well-toiled land in front of him. His legs were spread wider, his balls dangling, still growing, approaching the size of two thick pomegranates.
The rabbit’s cock felt rock hard, too, still gushing out little dribbling spurts and streams of precum. 
One of the other flowers moved up towards his crotch, its head angled like a snake ready to strike. The petals opened wide, and enclosed around his shaft, the inside like soft warm velvet.
“Aaaaahn…” he groaned. The sparkling pollen was still all around him, and it stuck to his open mouth and turned thick and syrupy. He lapped at the air, as if that would help him get more of it in. It was hard to move much, the vines held him so incredibly tightly that he couldn’t move more than an inch in any direction.

The one exception was his hips. He was able to hump and thrust into the suckling bud without any restrictions, his whole body wriggling, his gut and balls jiggling with each thrust. The flower attacked him right back, enfolding his shaft and squeezing it with intense tightness.
“Anghh…!” he gasped out, his mouth plugged up with another flower-tongue as his first orgasm hit. His thick balls tightened, still growing, as the first spray of seed filled the inside and travelled down the inside of the flower’s stem in impossibly thick globs. Not a drop was wasted.
And it wasn’t long until his next orgasm hit. And the next. And the next after that.

On its journey down, his fertile virile seed underwent a transformation, seeping through the roots into the soil, and spreading through the dirt far more rapidly than was natural. As orgasm after orgasm ploughed through the horny rabbit’s body, he gave more and more of himself to feed not only this otherworldly plant, but every other plant in the vicinity.
Stephen didn’t know, of course. He was too pollen-brained to care, happy to hump as his now massive balls slapped against the flower and against his thighs with each thrust and grind. 
For all intents and purposes, he was out for the count, comatose with pleasure. A perfect source of sustenance for the plant - and all the others around it.
The sweet nectar kept Stephen hydrated and horny, ensuring that his loads were thick and unrelenting as ever.
Hours passed like this, well into the twilight hours
When Stephen was finally set down on his jelly-like legs, he slowly stumbled in a trance, balls still thick, brain still drained of thought, back the way he came. 
One of the thick roots swatted him on the ass, which made him squeak and stumble.

That was the only sensation he felt the following day - the slightly sharp pain on his ass-cheek that faded by noon.
…Well, that, and his still sensitive, still huge balls.
…But they’d always been that size, hadn’t they?

Stephen went to his garden once again - sure enough, once more, there was a rich bounty of fruit waiting for him, an unseasonably vast array of berries.
He was wearing his baggiest pair of sweatpants, but they felt conspicuously tight for some reason today… he hadn’t put on any weight, though. And he had to go commando too(why did he even have underwear if his big balls couldn’t hold any of them?).
As he gathered up the berries from his bushes, his eyes were drawn to those mysterious flowers once again.
His heart did a strange little thump and leap.
He could smell their perfume from there. Why not…?
He made his way over to them and examined them a bit more closely. They were still thick with pollen, still being visited and kissed by bees and butterflies.
One of them was less attended to. For some reason he couldn’t explain, he reached inside with a finger and slowly traced it around the inside. It came out covered in dust… like a sort of golden-coloured cocoa powder.

For some reason, he felt it would make for a good sweetener… 
He couldn’t collect much of it now, without getting stung. 
It occurred to him that maybe he could stop by that night, when it was less populated. He had a feeling that this would make his baked goods even more irresistible. 
“What’cha doing?”
“Hey Kam,” Stephen said, looking towards the silver-scaled snake. They had one hand on their hip, staring curiously.
“What, uh… what’re you doing with those flowers?”
“Ah, just… gonna try something. An experiment.”
“Did you figure out who owns this spot?”

Stephen stared at them with a confused look. …What were they talking about? 
“I heard someone broke in last night,” Kam said,  “But nothing got stolen or torn up. That wasn’t you, was it?”
“No!” Stephen laughed. “I was sleeping like a rock all night!” Obviously, he didn’t mention the intense wet dream he had, though he couldn’t remember a thing about said dream.
His balls tingled a little, the only remnant of the forgotten memory.
He’d have to be more careful when he broke in tonight.
He didn’t want anyone else finding his trade secret.