End: Lotus Lane Wants To Be Properly Fertilized

In Lotus Lane's mouth, her throat, down into her lungs, she felt her new body adapt and command her body's flora. Her mind reached out, into the Green, feeding her the unspoken poetry of plants, chemical synthesis...narcotic blossoms, with their strange sleepy scents. The plant-woman's violet eyes flashed as she reached up to caress Poison Ivy's face, to draw it closer to her own...their lips almost touching as Lotus took in a deep breath...

The former reporter opened her mouth wide...and breathed a cloud of her own newly-produced toxins into Ivy's waiting mouth. Lotus's lips closed over the plant-woman's mouth, sealing it, forcing the chemicals into her lover's mouth...and Ivy's eyes widened as her system, normally immune to toxins, was swiftly overwhelmed against the targeted chemical attack. Her limbs stiffened and she shook, unprepared and unable to muster her own defenses, though her body continued to secrete pheromones that filled the air with a rank and heavy floral odor.

Lotus broke the kiss, a line of drool connecting their lips, and she swiftly repositioned the helpless villain onto the bed, so that their positions were now reversed.

From where Ivy had discarded it, Lotus recovered the hollow gourd, covered as it was with pollen and nightsoil. Her backside still hurt from where she had crammed the crude tool, ass still packed with Pamela Isley's pollen. Yet the newborn plant-woman knew now, through the whispers in the Green, that she hadn't been ready then, not really, to fulfill her purpose. She rubbed her thighs against each other at the sink, as she washed off the tool, her mind spreading out in awareness...she could sense the location of the greenhouse, of a lone succulent office plant on Blaze's desk, of scraggly weeds and hardy grass growing in cracks on the sidewalk above.

More than that, she could feel her womb configuring itself to be seeded. Flowers have genders too...and there was no bee to carry the pollen from Ivy to Lotus. So the former reporter would have to do it herself.

Green foam flecked at the corners of Ivy's mouth, the narcotics taking effect, sending her mind deep, deep into the green.

"Don't worry," Lotus said as she spread the pale thighs, either end of the hollow gourd touching their respective lips. "This time, will be different."

"Grgghl," Ivy managed, her eyes rolled up in her head, as Lotus slowly pushed the gourd deep into the villain's pussy. Deep, in fact, than it had been before.

"We need," Lotus said, though she knew Ivy couldn't hear her, "A deep, intimate connection. Right up to the mouth of your womb..."

The pale thighs quivered, and the villain's belly tensed as the end of the hollow gourd hit the mouth of Ivy's cervix, leaving only about three inches sticking out. More than enough for her lover's purpose. Lifting up Ivy's left leg and shifting her a bit onto her side, Lotus scissored their legs, pressing the end of the gourd into her own pussy, and moving down until their cunts kissed.

"There we go," Lotus said, breathing a little harder. She could feel the heat shifting in her body as she began to move. The gourd wasn't very wide or deep, but she didn't need that. Her cunny was juiced and slick, and the reporter's body had shifted into spring mode. Nipples swollen puffy and pink as blood flowed into her breasts, and the wet heat of her cunt began to put out a strange, swamp-like odor, the kind of exotic, spicy smell that attracts flies and stinging insects. Green tears flowed uncontrollably down Lotus's cheeks, like mascara running, and her lips curled as she breathed out a clud of chemical lust, that settled over Ivy's form like a pale dust.

Even in her ****-induced haze, Ivy began to respond, stiff muscles twitching involuntarily. Her pale skin began to grow a more vibrant green as she sucked in air, flooding her system with oxygen. the first batch of pollen that Ivy had shot up Lotus Lane's ass had been old, many of the individual pollinators dead, but Lotus could sense that the gametes Ivy was pumping out new were fresh...new...almost bursting with life...and Lotus Lane's own eggs were preparing themselves in the green chemical hell of her womb.

Moving faster now, Lotus began to moan. Her legs and ass flexed as she jammed her pussy down hard against Ivy's cunt. She reached down and rubbed her clitoris as their cunnies mashed together...and Lotus kept going, kept grinding until her body shook and shuddered like a dandelion in the wind, pussy clamping tight, her innermost flower opening to receive its genetic payload...and inside Ivy, her body responded. As the gourd poked hard against the cervix, the little sphincter opened...muscles cramped...and a yellow, powdery bloom of pollen rushed out from Ivy's womb, channeled down the gourd, right to where Lotus Lane's cunt and all its eggs were waiting.

Normally, women cannot sense their conception. Yet in tune with the Green, Lotus Lane could actually feel the rush of plant-sperm that flooded her uterus, the powdery grains filling her up, meeting up with the gametes that Lotus herself had released....and the newly impregnated plant-woman shivered like a sapling in a storm her body's purpose was fulfilled...and whatever small part of her that might have still thought of itself as Lois Lane, the Daily Planet's greatest reporter, it was lost and washed away in a rush of pleasure, all the voices in the Green rejoicing at her successful pollination, the conception of the sprout which even now was taking root inside of her.

Lotus Lane collapsed, panting gently in the afterglow, pussy locked with Ivy's. A hand cradled her flat stomach, wondering what kind of soil they would have in the nursery.