An unholy hybrid

Utterly exhausted, you fade in and out of consciousness for what feels like an eternity. Though frankly, you're in no condition to tell time. While you'd love to fade back into oblivion, your body is continuously wracked by violent fits of coughing, dashing any hope of further sleep. At some point, you realize notice the feeling of the greenhouse floor beneath you, the plant must have spit you out. But why? Your first emotion is sorrow, it was ever so warm in there. No, you have to think, you're someone important. The air tastes different now than it did before.

Then it slowly begins to make sense. It's actual air! You must be coughing the oxygenated slime from your lungs, and most of the hypnotizing pollen with it. Though you can still feel a coating of purple ooze upon your flesh, the amount inside of you seems to have lessened severely, allowing your brain cells to slowly awaken. It starts to come back, the island compound, the plane crash, the girls.

"The girls!" Your body and mind seem to be reuniting once more, allowing you to speak again. But as if responding to your voice, something moved. Something close. The last thing you remember was the flower, it had done something to you, but what?

Turning your head, you find yourself only a few feet away from the comatose form of the unfortunate Miss Meadows. But she hasn't moved an inch since you've found her, still flashing that same ghoulish smile as before. That's when you notice the pressure on your swollen right breast. If the plant freed you, then what could be suckling there?

Feeling the fear rising in your gut, you steel your nerves before peering up at whatever foul beast is taking liberties with your body. But nothing could have prepared you for the sight, and you let out a sudden cry of shock, temporarily starling the creature.

Lying atop your naked form is a duplicate of yourself, a second Victoria Swift! "Impossible," You whisper, clearly refusing to believe what your eyes are seeing. But there she is, a nearly perfect copy, gleefully suckling at your teat. Of course, she couldn't be called an exact double, not with her green tinted flesh and leafy locks, but the resemblance could certainly fool the untrained eye. A twinge of jealousy hits you as you notice her greenish flesh it without a single wrinkle.

But she doesn't seem to pay you much notice, instead suckling gleefully at your milk-bloated mounds. While you know you should try to free yourself, it does feel good to have someone relieving the pressure in your mammoth mammaries. On top of that, this creature was made with your DNA, born from your womb. Some might see her as your child, you did give birth to her after all, but by the same token, she could be viewed as just another parasitic monster.