Lois Can't Move...She's A Plant

Stiffly, Lois Lane wavered in place. Her eyelids had grown closed, and her world shrank that much. She couldn't close her mouth, but her sap ran in the open, waiting cleft. The air was sweet and rich, the plant-woman's sense of taste and smell grown powerful, and she could feel her roots digging into the soil, bringing with them the perception of people walking nearby.

She could not move. Lois was fixed in place, the tides of her body slowing as the sap flowed through her. Acutely she became aware of her body's needs; not to flex muscles now grown stiff and numb, but the terrible thirst that was racking her, the sweet rush of the artificial sunlight on her leaves, the slow, steady pull of nutrients from the soil...

Something else though, filtered through the reporter's consciousness. She could still hear. Voices came to her, one familiar, one unfamiliar.

"And how is our newest little flower?" An unknown voice, female, husky, a strange and unfamiliar accent—something Mediterranean.

"Rooting. It'll take a few days for the changes to be permanent. I think she'll take better than the others, provided she isn't, ah, 'over-watered' as they were." That was Poison Ivy's voice. She sounded slightly unhappy at the treatment of the others...and Lois Lane immediately thought of the missing women. Had they fallen into the clutches of this mad scientist? Were they somewhere in this garden, being used as plant-whores?

Is that what's in store for me? Lois quailed at the thought.

"Hmm. Yes, we did have a little bit of trouble with your previous test subjects. They're still barren, aren't they?"

"Over-pollination is as bad as under-pollination," Ivy told the stranger. "It can damage the tissues, and prevent proper fruit formation. For this one, if you do want her to...bear fruit...I would recommend that she only have a single customer, to visit her at regular but not too-frequent intervals."

"Seems like sound advice."

Lois quivered. She could feel that the woman was standing right in front of her. A shadow had fallen across the green skin of her breasts; her roots trembled with the tread of feet, but her mouth...her mouth watered. There was something there, close to her, that her body hungered for. Though Lois could not move, she felt her body try to sway closer to that strange, intoxicating scent/taste.

"Indeed," there was a sound of a zipper descending. "I'm thinking of planting a few seeds myself."