1. Reprise

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A fern green earth pony with a terracotta mane strutted out of the larger greenhouse in her garden, a step ladder balanced on her back with her neck poking through the rungs. She hummed tunelessly, a slightly smug smile on her face as she propped up the ladder in front of a enormous plant that towered over everything else in the garden.

The Tegmen flower was the size of a small tree, a product of gratuitous earth pony magic and selective breeding by Withania herself, grown for its highly unusual method of pollination. Huge long leaves stood guard around a six foot stalk as wide as Withania’s hips, supporting the bowl of a dazzlingly yellow flower. Withania had waited patiently for it to turn this shade again, its colour stemming from a slick coating of golden nectar over what were actually pure white petals. In this state it was ready to host a catch - on the original plant a bee most likely, but at this size that catch would be a pony.

Withania climbed the step ladder to the top rung, her face lighting up with both the golden glow of reflected sunlight and her widening smile. This would be her third time giving herself to the flower’s pollination cycle - if it were up to her it would be the three-hundredth, but breeding a specimen that could reset to the catch-stage any faster eluded her. It did make every turn special however, Withania’s strong earth pony magic made her connection with this plant particularly intense, and she was grateful for that.

The earth pony stretched out her hind legs and belly flopped into the flower, sliding on the nectar-slicked petals into the dip in the centre. She knew how tough the Tegmen was now - there was no need to be gentle with it - so she wallowed shamelessly in the rich honey-like nectar, quickly getting covered in a sweet mess.

“Heeeeeey Teggers,” she murmured to the flower as she stroked the petals with a hoof, “Mama's back…”

She shuffled herself into the middle so that her hind legs were on either side of the stigma at the flower’s centre. The stamen immediately leaned back against her thighs, detecting the presence of something and feeling out the catch. The natural pool of glistening nectar in the centre tickled her crotch, enticing her forehooves to reach down and play. Happy to oblige, Withania laid back in the petals of the flower and began to slide a hoof up and down her slit, slowly working the nectar into her already lubricated folds. The early afternoon sun was a little on the hot side, but she knew that in a few minutes she would be happily enclosed in both shade and a golden soup, marinating for the Tegmen to sap all of the pollen she carried from both the stamen caressing her, and also other airborne particles that would be embedded in her fur, her gut, and even her lungs. This was how the Tegmen successfully survived in incredibly sparse numbers, it left very little to chance.

Withania’s eye snapped open again as she felt something other than her hoof brush the lips of her own flower, she glanced down to see that a few of the nearest tendrils had joined forces and were seeking out her velvet passage, slowly twisting this way and that to find the source of the foreign fluid. That’s new, thought Withania, raising her hoof to see what the stamen were doing, But then normally at this point I’d be wedging as much of the stigma as I can in there so I guess they’ve never had a chance to do this…

She took the opportunity to start lapping at her moistened hoof while her tendril friends slowly pushed into her inner passage, her breath and heart rate quickly rising. They sought contact with their host, pressing outwards against her walls and opening her pussy up as if a stallion was at work down there. With greedy thoughts she gently nudged and guided the other stamen laying over her thighs to her epicentre, feeling them join their siblings in a wriggling mass that was quickly building tension deep inside her.

The nectar pooled about her hips and smeared across most of her fur was slowly soaking into her skin, softening her body, making her pliable. Relaxing into a blissful rythm, she scooped up more nectar to lap from her hoof and lay flat against the soft petals while the flower’s stamen twisted and probed her caverns. They were sensitive to the catch tensing up, and she wanted to hit cloud nine at least once before the flower closed up on her. Unable to reach her softening and widening pussy, the further tendrils around the flower’s stigma reached over to wind around her hind hooves and legs, holding her steady against the push of the multi-stranded tentacle in her passage.

Withania sighed in pleasure, riding with her hooves free, eyes closed again, imagination running away with images of leaves wrapping her up into a package, giant vines covered in pollen seeking to impregnate her so that she could bloom into a beautiful flower herself.

“That’s it… that’s it… now hard…” she murmured, and twisted her hips outwards to pull on the stamen wrapped around them. They responded immediately by clamping firmly and binding the lower half of her body to the flower, while the tendrils in her flooded pussy bunched up, their combined girth expanding against her clenching walls, pushing up inside her while her own body’s nectar built in pressure, seeking an exit. The flower was ready, the petals around her curled at the tips, and her golden seat began to close in on her.

The pony’s body was tipped up, and gravity pushed her harder still into the writhing probes inside her love tunnel, and she gasped out as her floodgates broke open, pressing back against the flower wrapping shut around her. The ridged, corkscrew-like texture of the stamen lodged inside gave a unique feedback for her velvet folds to grip, their slightly rough surface teasing her senses, drawing an image in her mind.

Finally she breathed a deep sigh as the crest of the wave subsided, leaving the wash of hormones behind it. The flower closed like an aperture around her, cocooning her body in a warm yellow shade, now held upright, but with space to move and turn. The stamen slowly relaxed as she did, and with nowhere else to go she was lowered legs-spread onto the point of the flower’s central stigma, spreading her softened hips wide open again. Her hind hooves sunk deeper into the neck of the flower where the stem opened up, into the source of the nectar.

The pool of golden liquid was now rising, the flower reacting to its catch and seeking to bathe them in the sticky goop that trapped all useful particles it could find. Withania rested while she watched the level climb past her midriff, and then her chest and up to her neck. She greedily began to drink, filling her belly with the sweet elixir. Soon it would fill every available space inside her, suspending her like an insect in amber.

While she gorged she suddenly felt another unexpected poke down below. She could hardly see down to her hind legs, but she immediately knew that it was the stamen looking for another entrance again. With her pussy occupied to its fullest by the stigma, that left her soft and now well-lubricated anus. Again, not something she’d felt the Tegmen do before, but a little extra attention certainly wasn’t unappreciated.

Before she could focus on what was going on downstairs however, the nectar rose past her head, cutting off her senses and flooding her nose. She gulped for a few moments, knowing what was coming next, but knowing that her body couldn’t voluntarily do it. She blew out the last of her breath, and her lungs reflexively inhaled, flooding with the nectar. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to this part - her diaphragm spasmed, trying to clear her lungs, but there was no air left inside the flower. After a few convulsing moments, her body tied down by the stamen to prevent her lashing out, her lungs relaxed again as they found oxygen in the nectar. She took a few sluggish breaths, fluid flowing in and out with each sigh. The most alien sensation.

With her senses dulled down to low hums and the creak of the flower’s structure bobbing in the breeze, she became acutely aware of her swollen abdomen filled with the stigma, and the stamen slowly winding their way into her rump. The other tendrils seemed to reach much further than ever before, winding up as far as her belly, wrapping her forehooves against her body, their pulsing grip pulling her down onto the huge shaft and then letting her rise slightly as her body pushed back. The steady build was on again as her loins sang out to the plant to use and abuse her. Fill her up. Stuff her full. Between breaths of nectar she took gulps of it, hiccuping out the last of the air inside her stomach until every space in her was flowing with the Tegmen’s juice.

The tendrils in her back door kept pushing into her, she could feel herself somehow filling up even more than she already was, discovering a new capacity she’d never felt. The tendril was navigating into her intestines, pushing and twisting through the maze of her lower gut, leaving not a millimeter of space in its wake until her eyes widened as she felt a poke at the base of her stomach.

Even if she wanted to react to this, she was well past the point of no return. The stamen had her bound, the flower was sealed closed and would remain that way for the next twelve hours or so. She was entirely at the Tegmen’s mercy, and could only hope that the softening effects of the nectar on her body would keep her from harm. Her joints were loose and flexible now, the tissues of her body malleable and accommodating to the flower’s invasions.

Withania’s esophagus was already dilated with golden nectar flowing out from her mouth, displaced by the rising tendril from below, and her internal fires blazed as she realised where this was leading to. A muffled moan, more felt as a vibration than heard, sounded from her neck as the stamen continued its journey through her entire body, reaching up her throat and finally erupting from her mouth. Her eyes stared in indulgent curiosity at the gently waving tendril appearing in front of them, her pussy emitting small clouds of her fluids across the flower’s neck in sympathy. The stamen curled back down, finding the line of Withania’s neck and bending itself around her throat - not tightly, but enough that she was now entirely helpless, unable to move in the slightest.

Even as the realisation set in her second orgasm pulled her muscles back together, and every stamen binding her dug in, forcing her down onto the stigma, the bulge of her abdomen expanding out further, and the tendril piercing her end to end expanded, locking her body straight. The mare was beyond caring exactly what was happening, she just wanted the feeling to continue, to never stop, the rush of blood through her arteries pulsing the nerves in every sensitive part of her body. Interlocked tighter into the Tegmen flower than she’d ever been, she bathed in sexual exhilaration.

2. Morning Sickness

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Withania slowly opened her eyes to the sunshine bearing down on her. She was surrounded in the pure white petals of the Tegmen flower’s second stage, the nectar having drained away into the stem. Her body lay haphazardly around the centre, and she had a trickle of golden drool down the side of her cheek. The position of the sun told her it was nearly midday.

“What!” she wheezed aloud, propping herself up, “I was out for an entire day! Ooof...”

She quickly fell flat against the flower again, the Tegmen wobbling slightly. She felt exhausted, nothing like the refreshed spring daisy that popped out of the flower the previous two times. Looking down at her body, she saw beautiful pale green petals mixed into her fern-green coat, the Tegmen’s gift to her. “Maybe we just got a bit rough last night, huh girl?” she said with a smile.

She stood up and felt a tug at her nethers. Assessing herself and saw a green tendril, a vine-like stamen connecting from the neck of the flower to somewhere inside her passage. She glanced around herself in embarrassment, but there were no points in Ponyville that could overlook this part of her garden. She’d made sure of that when she planted the Tegmen.

Knowing that the petals on her coat were superficial and came out at the slightest pull, she gingerly tugged on the vine. She felt it snag deep inside herself, all the way in her womb, but like the petals it broke off and wincing slightly she pulled it out, her knees wobbling. Despite the rush and pleasure of the night before, a look of concern clouded Withania’s face. It felt different. It felt like she’d gotten carried away and been careless, and a nervous uncertainty made her hesitant. At least she hadn’t been consumed by the plant, and was here to tell the tale - although after what had happened last night she might have to do some serious research into what else the Tegmen was capable of. If it still had hidden abilities she hadn’t seen yet then using it had been a grave risk that she’d taken no measures against.

Sitting at the edge of the flower, she jumped down onto the hard flagstones around the garden plots and shook herself. Her stomach felt like she’d drunk a gallon of cider, her muscles ached, and although nothing felt wrong in her abdomen, the sensation of the vine detaching inside her lingered in her mind. She made her way indoors and put the kettle on. A nice tea would settle her mind, followed by a morning of pottering around the garden. Stick to what she knew best.

While the tea brewed she brushed her mane, the thin green tendrils that were mixed into her hair coming out in the brush. She would’ve liked to keep them for a day or two as she had the last time, but for now she wanted normality. Her fur coat petals could stay at least, the nectar had done its wonderful job of conditioning her fur better than the finest shampoos from the spa could, and the petals generally came out of their own accord within a day or so anyway.

And then she dropped her brush and ran for the toilet.

Her stomach convulsed and she retched as a wave of nectar mixed with stomach acid flowed into the bowl, and moment later it was all over. Sitting back she spat and swallowed a few times to clear her mouth, wrinkling her nose at the burning taste of bile.

Well… I did drink a lot of nectar, she thought, Maybe my body is just trying to clear itself…

She felt better for throwing up, as the way things often went, and carried her tea outside to tend to the garden. The watering was overdue after her impromptu lay-in, and the nursery desperately needing tidying with all her saplings falling off of their support canes. She also needed to trim the roses - she had cultivated a unique colour that she knew the flower shop in town would simply love.

It felt good under the sunshine. Every now and then she caught sight of her reflection in the panes of the greenhouses and saw her stocky earth pony body looking the same as always, the nightshade cutie mark on her flanks and her slightly wild terracotta mane. However, she found herself in constant need of drink, even going so far as to swallow mouthfuls of water from the garden hose to save having to walk back inside her house yet again.

And then she dropped the hose pipe and ran for the compost heap in the corner.

With one hoof against the fence and her forehead resting on the fetlock she let her body do… whatever it felt like it needed to. But she brought up only nectar, thinned slightly with water, but golden, and sweet smelling. There was no bile. Her mouth was sticky with the Tegmen’s fluids, however the acrid taste of bile that normally accompanied this unpleasant exercise was completely absent. There was no way she hadn’t purged all of the nectar earlier in the day - she couldn’t possibly have that much left in her that she hadn’t simply digested. Yet there was no stomach acid to be digesting it.

She trotted back into the greenhouse and stood in front of the free-standing mirror she used to angle light at certain plants, leaning in close with her mouth open. Her tongue and gums were pale, almost white, and the back of her throat was the same. She chewed her tongue experimentally. It felt normal, but opening her mouth again she saw not strings of saliva stretching out, but more nectar. She almost couldn’t taste it because her entire mouth and throat were coated - her taste buds had acclimatised.

“What’s happening to me?” she whispered, looking into her tawny irises and seeing the same lack of pink around the edges of her eyelids, where the tear ducts sat in the corners.

She sat down and closed her eyes, doing her very best to remain calm. She wasn’t in pain and so far, apart from throwing up a couple of times, there seemed to be no other ill effects ailing her. Perhaps the sickness was just a reaction, something that would pass. Maybe all of this was temporary - after all the petals and hair vines that grew on her body after a session in the Tegmen were temporary. And she had gotten fairly serious last night. The memory of the stamen coming out of her mouth flashed through her mind. It had been inside almost every part of her body.

She breathed in slowly and calmly, puffing out her chest and holding the position. And holding. And still holding. She opened one eye, not feeling the slightest discomfort at her lack of breathing. Trying something else, she exhaled as far as she could manage, her posture shrinking down again. The same thing happened, there was no involuntary inhalation, no gasp, no burning of the lungs. Her diaphragm was just... off. She could move it, but it didn’t move of its own accord. She had probably been breathing all day out of habit, but right now she felt no need to draw a breath.

Or had she? How often did she actively think about breathing? Had she gasped for breath after she’d been sick in the bathroom? Or over the compost heap? Her mind started racing, trying to remember details she wasn’t used to thinking about.

Am I dead? she suddenly thought morbidly. She held a hoof up to her neck and fumbled around for her jugular. A pulse, strong and steady - albeit a little fast - was there. She thought about sighing with relief, and then didn’t.

What else hadn’t she done all day without realising it? She slept until nearly noon. She’d drunk water. She’d eaten lunch.

Wait, no I didn’t… I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning…

Nearly thirty-six hours without food, she should’ve felt something. The Tegmen’s nectar would have sustained her overnight, but half a day of gardening normally worked up an appetite in the earth pony. She didn’t feel hungry. If anything she’d felt stronger as the day went on, outside in the garden and the greenhouses, sun on her back…

She looked up at the glass roof overhead, the late afternoon rays refracting through the panes. Without saying anything she walked over to her desk and pulled a lumpy old microscope forward from the back corner. Taking a glass slide from a container on the side she walked out to the Tegmen flower and rubbed it vigorously against one of the huge leaves around the stalk. Next she returned to the desk and repeated the process on her left foreleg.

Placing the two slides under the microscope she peered through the viewfinder, adjusting the zoom and focus until she could make out the cells floating on the surface of the glass. The Tegmen slide looked like, well a Tegmen sample. She’d seen many of them while growing the Magnus specimen. She moved her own sample under the viewer and saw a denser packing of cells - but as she squinted, zooming in as far as her second-hand equipment could manage, the resemblance between the cells she’d taken from her own skin and the Tegmen leaves were unmistakable. She looked up and the sun again.

Am I photosynthesising?

Well there was one way to put it to the test, she slid off of her stool and trotted back into the house again. She opened the door to the kitchen pantry and shut herself inside with the light off. On any other day she would have felt incredibly foolish, sitting in the dark surrounded by bags of oats and her homemade tins of tomatoes and other winter supplies - but something about her was wrong and she needed to know the truth.

Perhaps it was the sudden switch from being active to sitting still, but she felt her energy waning. It wasn’t tiredness - at least not yet - but the drive she’d felt while gardening faded to a similar state to how she’d woken up, a little tired and groggy after a long night. She sat there with her mind churning away for ten minutes before she grew bored and walked outside again.

Immediately as the sun hit her face and back she felt a response in herself, her muscles bracing themselves for use as if she’d just stretched. She suddenly felt like she could keep working for hours and for as long as the sun warmed her she wouldn’t run out of energy.

“Well... I guess there’s plenty I can get done,” she said to the plants, “May as well take advantage of this...”

3. Roses

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Withania’s eyes opened as the morning sun climbed over her bedroom windowsill. She yawned and turned over in her bed, catching sight of a yellow stain on the pillow where she’d drooled in her sleep. The memories of the previous day crashed back down.

She wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of one hoof and looked at the golden nectar before licking it off again. It didn’t taste of anything as far as she could tell, but she knew what it was. It seemed that waking up in the morning as a normal earth pony again was too much to hope for. The changes were lodged too deep, and they were biological. Who knew if this could be reversed?

Maybe there was a magic that would fix her? But that would mean seeking out help, and that meant explaining what she’d done. She groaned and buried her head under the quilt at the thought of having to explain her motivation behind growing an enormous pony-eating plant in her back garden to an authoritative figure.

Walking into the bathroom she looked out the window into the garden. It was impeccably tidy after yesterday’s solar-powered spree. She’d come in once the sun had truly set and eaten some normal food for the sake of familiarity, and found she could still stomach it just fine. So it seemed that she had retained her pony ability to gain sustenance from food as well as her new photosynthesis.

“Let’s go and face the world today,” she said to herself, “If syrup saliva, the ability to gain energy from the sun, and no more need to breathe are the worst things to come from this I think I’ll be alright.”

In fact I might be better off… she thought, dragging a brush through her mane. She then brushed her teeth, eyes lingering on her disconcertingly pale tongue. That’s going to take some getting used to. I wonder if the nectar will rot my teeth.

Once she had drunk her morning tea and eaten some breakfast, she loaded up her saddlebags with the beautiful blue roses she had cut yesterday and left the house to trot into the town centre. The sun was less intense than the previous day, with rain forecast for the evening, but she still felt invigorated under its rays.

“Good morning Withania!”

Withania looked down from the sky and nearly bumped into a turquoise pegasus heading the other way on hoof.

“Oh! Sprinkle, sorry I was miles away - good morning! How are you?” As Withania responded, Sprinkle Medley’s eyes shifted out of focus for a moment, staring slightly blankly at Withania.

“I’m… I’m fine,” she stammered, “You look lovely Withania… I… I really like your mane…”

Withania blinked and looked down at herself. Yes, I did brush out the petals and vines, I should look normal? she thought, panicking for a moment.

“Uh, thanks,” she replied, “I add a little flaxseed oil to my shampoo.”

As she spoke again, she saw Sprinkle’s nose wrinkle slightly in confusion. For a moment Withania thought the pegasus was about to lean in and kiss her. Then the breeze ruffled the pegasus’ mane and her eyes focused properly.

“Huh. Thanks… thanks for the tip, I’ll try it. Well… see you!” Sprinkle Medley trotted on down the road as Withania waved awkwardly.

She shook her head and continued on her way, waving to other ponies walking and flying about town. Entering the flower shop, she found Lily Valley behind the counter wrapping bouquets of flowers. She sniffed loudly, her nose looking distinctly redder than the rest of her body.

“Morning Lily,” said Withania with a grin, “No potion to keep the hay fever down?”

“Buh. Hi Widania, I ran oud. Zorry about the sniffing.”

“Well hold your nose, because I have roses for you!”

She triumphantly pulled a large bundle of cut roses from her bag and placed them on the counter. Lily’s eyes lit up at their colour.

“Ooooh, dey’re wonderful! How did you do it?” she exclaimed.

“Honestly it was more trouble than they’re worth. I could make more, but it would need to be a special order. I’m not going to keep these on the grow all the time.”

The door opened again and Rose walked in, placing a pair of empty panniers on the end of the counter with a contented sigh.

“Flowers for Mayor Mare de- deliver...Hi Withania… you… smell nice today…” she said, staring at Withania with a confused look on her face and her eyes shifting focus in the same way Sprinkle’s had.

“Uh, thanks,” replied Withania, avoiding eye contact, “I put lavender in my pillows.”

“I’m going do deliver deez roses, and see if I can find some hay fever potion,” mumbled Lily, scooping up the panniers and placing the bundle of blue petaled roses in them. She waved weakly at the other two earth ponies and stumbled out the door.

“Well, I think I’ll-” Withania began, intending to follow Lily out, but suddenly found Rose standing an inch away from her face, a dazed but maddeningly curious look in her eye. Withania automatically stepped back, but Rose followed, sniffing wildly, trying to find the source of some scent Withania certainly wasn’t aware of.

“I.. I need you Withania,” she said, her muzzle ruffling up Withania’s chest, “Just… let me taste it, I have to taste…”

“Wooah, Rose what are you doing?” said Withania defensively, but for every step she took backwards, Rose stepped forwards, before finally she nudged Withania off-balance and the green pony fell back on the floor. “Rose- oooff!” As she blew into Rose’s face, the beige pony’s nose wrinkled again and her eye lids drooped for a moment - then she focused back on Withania, the wild look now mixed with a strange desperation.

Before Withania could right herself, the beige pony was on top of her hind legs, prying them open and dragging her tongue up her privates.

“ROSE!” she shrieked, trying to lean forward and fend off the wild earth pony. But Rose was all over her, madly licking and nuzzling into her flower until it began to bloom of its own accord, eliciting a moan of unintended pleasure from Withania. Rose suddenly clambered up to the green pony’s mouth, as if she were trying to catch the moan as it escaped her, but then returned to the moistened pussy down below. Her forelegs were pressing down Withania’s hind legs, pinning the green pony down while she greedily and vigorously lavished attention onto one of the sources of the scent she was hypnotized by.

It’s my breath! Withania suddenly realised, between gasps of unwarranted physical attention, Sprinkler was outside and the wind cleared her head… Lily’s nose is blocked with hay fever… Rose is in an enclosed room with me- OOOOOOH CELESTIA-

She looked down just as Rose pulled out again to gasp for breath, her muzzle drenched in the familiar golden nectar, now dripping out of Withania’s gaping passage.

“Sweet… it’s so sweet…” muttered the red-headed mare, quickly diving in for more with a slurping noise.

Withania felt like she should’ve been stopping this, but she was stuck on her back with her legs in the air, and such was the ferocity of Rose’s assault that her own brain was going slightly foggy with lust. This pretty mare was head over tail for her right now, desperate to eat her out, under her command. Withania found her mouth salivating - it would be so easy to just open up her mouth and put it over Rose’s head…

“Aaaaah!” Withania cried out, her flower shutting on Rose’s nose with a squirt as she came into the mare’s face - and still Rose wasn’t done. She shuffled up Withania’s exposed belly so they were face to face again, with the green pony trapped underneath, and she dived into a sticky kiss, tongue lashing at Withania’s lips, seeking to pry them open and gain access.

Withania could taste the sweetness from her folds on Rose’s lips, confirming it to be similar to the regular nectar, but more potent - whatever implications that had. Right now she was more worried having inadvertently drugged Rose with something airbourne on her breath, and as a result that earth pony was trying to push her muzzle into Withania’s mouth, making desperate squeaks and gasps.

“I need more- you have to let me in, take me Withania!” Rose’s own wet marehood pressed into Withania’s, and with wide-eyed shock the green mare realised she could somehow sense the presence of another’s juices down there, as if it were alerting her that this pony was ready for the taking.

For a moment the temptation to do exactly that nearly got the better of her, to plunge her head over Rose’s and swallow her whole, squeeze her down into a waiting belly filled with suspending nectar - but Withania shook her head to clear her own lust and dislodge the mad flower pony. She wrapped her legs around Rose and rolled over so that she was on top. She then quickly got up and backed away again before her fuddled friend could get up.

“I’m sorry Rose, I have to go!” she called out, diving out the door as quickly as she could manage, keeping her tail low over her opened privates. Enough was enough. It was time to start getting help.

4. A Body In Balance

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Withania cantered out of town with minimal drama, keeping her mouth shut and responding to every pony with only smiles and waves. She headed directly for the Everfree forest, specifically the path to Zecora’s house. The zebra shaman was the least judgmental individual Withania knew - but more importantly she knew her obscure herbology. Even if she wasn’t familiar with the Tegmen, she would doubtless be able to diagnose its effects on Withania.

She had been fully prepared to explore her ‘changes’ on her own, but the idea of not only losing control of herself, but accidently bending others to her will was too much. If she hadn’t run out on Rose when she did, she was fairly certain that the flower girl would be halfway through her digestive system by now - and who knew if the reformation potion would still work.

Arriving at Zecora’s unusually decorated tree-hut, Withania knocked on the front door and then retreated by a barge pole. The door opened and Zecora appeared, mouth open in greeting, and then closing again as she saw the green earth pony sitting back near the path.

“Withania my friend, why do you sit all the way at my garden path’s end?” she said, holding the door open.

“It’s uh… a long story, but it’s kind of important that you don’t smell my breath,” called back Withania.

“H’mm… I’m quite accoustomed to dealing with fumes best not inhaled, come in and I shall ensure your breath does not prevail.”

She left the door open and disappeared inside, so Withania walked back up the path, keeping her mouth firmly shut as she entered Zecora’s home. The usual cauldron of brew stood bubbling in the centre of the room, while the round walls surrounded countertops littered with all manner of herbs, plants, and other hoof made paraphernalia for Zecora’s craft. The zebra rummaged around in a trunk at the end of her bed at the back of the room, and then turned to reveal a simple cotton mask over her muzzle.

“Now tell me what is your ail,” she said, slightly muffled by the mask, “for I can see from here that the corners of your eyes are quite pale…”

“I may as well start at the beginning. I found a white flower in the forest that closes when an insect lands on it…”

Withania proceeded to explain her story in full. Her discovery of the Tegmen, growing the magnus specimen, what she then did with it - and then her current disposition, and the fact that her breath seemed to be carrying aphrodisiac pollen. Zecora sat and listened without interrupting. She did not seem shocked, although with the mask on it was hard to gauge her reaction from just her eyes.

“That is indeed quite a tale, but do not let your embarrassment prevail - I have encountered many a pony do strange things of leisure purely for their own sense of pleasure!” Zecora chuckled slightly and winked at Withania.

“Well… at least I’m not the only one to do something stupid for an orgasm,” sighed Withania - and then quickly wafting the air in front of her self consciously. “What about the Tegmen flower? Have you seen it before?”

“I’ve seen the plant of which you speak, but into its effects, I did not peek. I know your talents well, Withania, after all of your care I do not doubt that you know more about it than this mare.”

Withania’s ears dropped as she heard this. Zecora stood up and walked around her hut, picking up a selection of ingredients and adding them to the cauldron. The simmering mix turned crystal clear, its colour evaporating like smoke.

“Touch this brew, and we will see if this really is your body new.”

Withania gingerly touched the surface of the liquid with the tip of one hoof. A green cloud formed in the centre, matching the colour of her own fern-green coat. The colour sank to the bottom of the pot, and then a stem grew up through the middle, quickly expanding into a flower - a nightshade mimicking Withania’s cutie mark.

“Your earth pony roots run deep,” commented Zecora, watching the water’s reaction, “It is your connection to flora that has allowed your body to make this leap.”

“Does that mean this wouldn’t have happened to someone else using the Tegmen?” asked Withania.

“Most plants of change have a temporary effect, but your body is in balance with this change I suspect. This does not mean you cannot return - it is about your new body that you should learn and you may find it is not your old self for which you yearn.”

‘My old self that I yearn’? thought Withania, staring into her reflection in the cauldron, I just want to understand what has happened…

“So you’re saying that I should sit tight and figure out how to control myself for now? If I bring you a specimen of the lesser Tegmen, can you see what else you can find out?”

“That would be wise. And then for the long term, a plan we can devise.”

“Thank you Zecora, I’ll come back tomorrow. Any suggestions about the whole aphrodisiac breath thing?”

The zebra walked back over to the trunk and pulled out another face mask.

“Thanks… I guess I’ll tell people that I’ve got hay fever,” said Withania.

“Or perhaps it is the hay fever that has you,” replied Zecora with a wink, “Farewell!”

Withania plodded back through the forest with her head held low. The sunlight had faded as the sky clouded over, the forecast weather rolling in from the forest. She felt a little better for telling someone else about her problems, but Zecora hadn’t really told her much she didn’t already know. Although if she had interpreted the zebra riddles correctly, Zecora seemed to think that Withania was in no specific danger from her disposition, and that was a relief.

If my body is part plant, then surely it will behave as a plant does… she mused, furrowing her brow, So if I’m pollinating and I want to ‘catch’ a pony, so to speak, I must be in the Tegmen’s catch stage.

She stopped in her tracks as she suddenly thought about how to get a Tegmen Flower past the catch stage and into second bloom. She swallowed nervously, feeling the nectar that coated the lining of her throat.

Maybe I should–

Before she finished the thought, a bright pair of eyes appeared in the gloom in front of her, suddenly reminding her that she was still in the Everfree forest. She slowly walked to her left, testing to see if she could skirt around whatever was watching and then make a run for the outside - but another pair of eyes greeted her left side.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! she chastised herself, Never sit still in the forest!

The mistake was made now though. Her heart picked up to a steady thudding as another three pairs of eyes appeared around her. Slowly, from the shrubs to her right a creature materialised from the gloom, a canine shape of sticks and dry twigs and dark eyes that reflected the muted sunlight. Timberwolves.

Withania allowed the wolf to draw near, standing stock still, watching, waiting, and just as it paused to tense up for a pounce Withania launched her own attack. Twisting around she set her workhorse hind legs in front and bucked for all she was worth, catching the head of the timberwolf on her hind hooves with a satisfying crunch. The wolf was kicked back into the brush, collapsing into a pile of firewood - but even as Withania readied herself to take on the next wolf, that pile of firewood shuddered and reordered itself back into the structure of a new wolf.

Fire was the only effective weapon against these creatures - but she didn’t have any. Right now she needed to survive, and hope for an opening through which she could escape. She could out-run timberwolves in the open - but cornered like this, she was in trouble.

Seeing that their quarry was not entirely defenseless, the other timberwolves all began to close in - and the fight began in earnest. Withania was tough, she danced on her hooves, avoiding the snapping jaws of her predators and dishing out a strong kick to anything that lined up with her thighs - but she was fighting a losing battle. Every kick sapped her energy, and the timberwolves got up again and again.

Trembling slightly but determined, Withania found herself at an impasse with the pack, neither party ready to make the next move. However a thudding step interrupted this stand off, and a sticky, damp breath blasted down onto Withania’s mane. She looked up, and found herself at the toothy end of a monstrously large timberwolf- easily three times the size of the others, with logs supporting its powerful legs and green fire burning in its eyes.

The fight was over, Withania desperately barrelled into the lesser wolf in front of her, but the others where stacked up behind, blocking her charge. She turned tail again, a wild search for any exit to this scene, only to find herself face to face with the great wolf. Its jaws yawned wide open, and with a shriek from the earth pony they closed around her waist line.

She was hoisted high into the air, clamped between a leathery tongue and hardwood fangs, hind legs kicking wildly, and then like a dog scarfing down a treat balanced on its nose, the enormous timberwolf gulped. Withania felt the pollen breath knocked out of her lungs, and a smooth esophagus enveloped her body. Dry, slippery and smooth it was unlike her previous experiences - she felt she was being sucked into a hosepipe. There was no heart beat here, no sense of life, just an ethereal machination swallowing her into some kind of internal pouch.

Coming to a rest in a leathery bag, Withania was pushed into a puddle of ooze that smelt like tree sap. No sooner were her forelegs free did she tense to start beating the enclosing walls of the timberwolf’s stomach - but the sap all around her bound her limbs reducing her punches to weak pats, nothing that even the mildest predator would notice.

Her mind raced to escapes, solutions, anything - but her reformation potions were at home, Zecora was out of range, oblivious to the drama unfolding, no other pony was expecting her home. She fell limp in the sticky sap filling the monster’s belly, feeling it wrap around her body and suck her deeper into its clutches. She felt motion as the timberwolf that had claimed her as its prey got up from its haunches and plodded away from the path, carrying her with it, and away from any possible hope of rescue.

She gently resisted the sinking sensation tying her body down for as long as possible, but before long her upraised muzzle dipped under the viscous pool, forced down by the shrinking and clenching stomach walls that sought to press her into as little space as possible. With no light, no air, and no energy left to fight, her vision faded into darkness.

5. Terra Equus Tegmen

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The Everfree forest was a never the same for more than a moment. Everywhere things where growing, dying, evolving. The forest did not notice prey being consumed by a predator – that was just part of the daily flow of life. The predator hunkered down for a few hours as the rain set in, drizzle dripping down from the canopy in patches, soaking into the plant life, rotting fallen branches and deadwood such as itself.

The Greater Timberwolf had to potter out from its rest eventually however, and in an alcove between the trees it squatted and left behind a suspicious pile that seemed to be moulding leaf mulch and sodden moss. Amongst this waste remains was a large brown lump the size of a pony’s hoof, with a lined texture that tapered to a point like a chestnut. The rain trickled off of the trees overhead, bedding the seed into the the fertile soil, and as the last of the day light faded, the seed took root.

Too slowly for anything to take notice, but fast enough to measure, a v-shape of flat, pointed leaves emerged from the ground. Between their protective guard a stem followed suit, the compressed ball of nitrates and magic at its base fueling its ascent, and the overwhelming desire to reach up and extend its body inspiring its haste.

With a body of its own, the plant stretched up and outwards with remarkable speed, growing from a pencil-sized sprout to a tree-sapling in the space of a few hours. It felt its roots deep in the soil drawing in food and water, building cells and pushing out leaves and the stem until a bud formed of pure white, almost luminescent in the gloom of the night. All effort when into the new bud, its density growing and weighing down the stem, but providing a safe and dry haven inside until the original seed in the soil had been depleted, and the centre of the plant lay within the flower bud waiting to bloom.

While sleeping animals staved off the long hours of the night, the strange white flower surpassed the rest of the forest in the blink of an eye, and as the cold glow of morning light touched its tightly clenched petals, the drip-dripping of dew pattered down from above, disturbing something inside.

An ear twitched as she felt drips running off of her petals and rolling down her leaves into the base of her stem. The fresh water was cool to the touch, while rays of sunlight stirred her limbs into action. She wanted to stretch wide, to turn and embrace the morning light. Her petals moved of their own accord, unravelling to expose her open face in all its glory.

As the sunlight hit her eyes, she clenched them, a frown forming on her muzzle - and somewhere deep in her mind, her consciousness shifted. Her eyes opened and she saw the forest canopy above, framed by the half-bloomed flower in which she sat, cradled as softly as a pearl. She looked down and saw that she had hooved legs, a fern green coat, a terracotta mane and tail. Somewhere in her extremities she could feel her grip deep in the soil, holding her upright and standing proudly against gravity.

Withania shook her head, the familiar strand-like vines mixed into her mane rustling in her ears.

Oh, she thought, I’m in the Tegmen.

But the tegmen was in a forest, not her garden. And it seemed smaller. And she could feel every part of it, as if it were an extension of her body. She carefully got up and peered over the rim of the flower she’d slept inside of. The Everfree Forest surrounded her. She remembered entering the forest, but not leaving it - something had happened.

Just as she turned to hop out of the flower she felt a tug from between her legs - the tendril connecting her, once again from the centre of the flower to her own deepest reaches. Gritting her teeth she held it down with a hind hoof and stepped forward, feeling the connection sever inside, and the end of the vine slip out from her nethers. She gasped in shock as she abruptly lost all sensation of the plant she was standing in - she had been dimly aware of every part from petals to roots, but the sudden departure of all of this nearly caused her to faint. She suddenly felt incredibly small, as if a tiny part of herself had detached to leave the greater whole behind.

The plant immediately began to droop, and Withania quickly jumped clear. She was only a foot or two off the the ground, and turning to look she saw what was more or less a dwarf version of the Tegmen Flower, short in the stem, all of its growth concentrated into the flower. And now the entire plant was wilting before her eyes.

It was me, she mused, I was the plant… and now I’ve detached from it, that part of me is wilting.

She’d been eaten, she remembered. Eaten by that huge timberwolf and digested into a paste. How had she survived? She closed her eyes and thought about the dream she’d had. After every sensation had left her, all she was aware of was a tiny, incredibly tight confined space, and the wish to find ground and stretch out. A seed, some part of her had remained that the wolf had passed, and then she had literally regrown into a flower overnight.

She felt slightly sorry for the collapsing flower that had been her salvation, but then she realised that it was merely a shell. The flower had grown and served its purpose, and now she shed it like a snake shucking its skin.

But heavens, was she tired… Regrowing in a night had left her exhausted and hungry. She needed to get out of the forest - find the sunlight. And probably some real food as well. Sunlight was good to sustain her, but she now knew that in times of exhaustion she needed something far more substantial to get back into shape.

Stretching her joints out, Withania began to trot away from the sun rise, heading east to Ponyville.

Flitter and Cloud Chaser were on morning weather patrol. The rain clouds had received reinforcements from the Everfree, and rather than try to bust up clouds that were constantly forming, it was easier to just shove them all back over the forest. Cloud Chaser lazed on her back in mid-air pushing clouds vaguely in the direction of the forest, but not really helping, while Flitter dutifully did the real work. The air was still, making the fluffy clumps of water vapour stubborn and resistant to moving.

“Hey, who’s that?” said Cloud Chaser, her eyes spotting movement from the edge of the woods. A green earth pony wandered out, head low and hooves dragging. She stepped out from the shadows under the overcast sky above the forest and dropped onto her haunches, looking up at the sun with her eyes closed.

“I think it’s that pony who has the big garden with the greenhouses in it. The one who sells herbs and that. I think her name was… Wither Lampshade?”

“Willow Nightblade?”

“Something Briarsong?”

“No there was a ‘knight’ in there somewhere… Or ‘shade’, one of the two… Wishing Heightshade?”

“Winifred Night… ty?”

“Nightingale Whiteshade.”

“I have no idea what her name is,” admitted Flitter.

“We’ll have to wing it…” agreed Cloud Chaser.

Withania Nightshade jumped slightly as she heard two pegasi land on either side of her. Light lilac coats and sky blue manes - it was the two sisters from the backup weather team. Maybe sisters. She wasn’t actually sure, they were together all the time. They could be partners… but she didn’t want to get that mixed up with siblings… she’d have to wing it.

“Uh, hello! Sorry I was just catching some sun…” she said.

“What were you doing in the forest?” questioned Flitter, not unkindly, but with the tone of a gossiper.

“Also what’s with the vines and spots? You look like you’re on your way to a really fancy party!” asked Cloud Chaser, leaning in and stroking Withania’s coat - and the fresh pale green petals dotting it. “Wow, they’re petals… how’d you get them so perfect all by yourself?”

“Umm…” The earth pony backed up slightly from the pair so that they were in front of her rather than on either side. “Yea I was just trying it all out, uh, Zecora was helping me, and I was coming back from her place and- oh nettles… I forgot…”

Having still been leaning close to gaze at the delicate green tendrils woven into her red mane, the sisters - or good friends - paused dead in their questioning. Flitter sneezed suddenly, and then continued to looked confusingly at Withania - while Cloud Chaser moved in, sniffing her neck, her chest, working her way down Withania’s body and making her stand up in alarm.

“That scent…” said Flitter slowly, “it’s amazing… let me smell it, what is it?”

A voice in Withania’s head was telling her to run before this situation got out of hand like the flower shop, to get back home to the safety of the greenhouse where she wouldn’t be bothered… But I’m so tired, her conscious brain responded, Why not just let these two fuss over me? They seem to be enjoying themselves already…

Her muzzle scrunched up while Flitter invaded her personal space, sniffing her face and her nose to take in more of the strange scent she was emitting.

“I- pffftp! I shouldn’t…” she said, trying to evade the pegasus’ snuffles. She backed up again - only to find Cloud Chaser’s head wedged under her hind leg. She gasped in alarm as she tripped and landed squarely on top of the other mare, while Flitter sized her opportunity to dive into a tongue-filled kiss. Cloud Chaser seemed entirely unphased- rolling onto her back and wriggling to get her head under Withania’s tail, her forehooves wrapping around the underside of the earth pony’s body to balance the flustered mare.

One drunken mare Withania had already dealt with, but getting tag-teamed by two of them was her limit - especially when she was already thinking about plants from the night she’d just had. The lure of enveloping Flitter, softening and suspending her body in nectar, granting them both unparalleled bliss was just too much.

Prompted by Cloud Chaser finding Withania’s twitching love passage and burying her nose into it, the earth pony opened her mouth wide and surrounded Flitter’s muzzle. The pegasus suddenly stopped fidgeting, and moaned sensually as she felt the slick nectar around Withania’s mouth and tongue sink into her fuzzy face, her compact hind quarters sitting down submissively as she immediately switched from avid curiosity to simply giving herself to this strange alluring garden pony.

This is a lot easier now I don’t need to breath… thought Withania, remembering the other time she’d played this part. Arms around your prey, hug them close and press down, your jaw will stretch...

“Ga… Gardiana, have me!” mumbled Flitter’s muffled voice. Withania obliged and using Cloud Chaser’s rhythmic ministrations to set the pace, she steadily gulped down Flitter’s head, followed swiftly by her shoulders. Wrapping her arms around the pegasus’ half-open wings, she hugged the pony into a tight embrace whilst letting her mouth travel down the light, streamlined body.

Cloud Chaser was fairly oblivious about what was happening at the other end of Withania, until she felt the earth pony’s weight on her chest increase considerably. Pulling out from her effort to swallow as much of Withania’s more concentrated nectar as possible, she looked under the fern-green thigh around her head to see a rapidly expanding belly bearing down on her, soft and moving with something inside of it. She nuzzled in to investigate, just as the point of Flitter’s nose poked at the bottom of Withania’s stomach, moving this way and that as she explored the confines she had been so eager to entrap herself in.

Withania let out a loud moan of pleasure as the delicate hind hooves of her catch slipped down her slick throat, and then began to coo gently as she felt the other pegasus she was sitting on begin to rub her engorged belly, feeling out the pony inside. Stars above, she feels amazing in there! I can feel my nectar pushing into her - and her body responding! No wonder the Tegmen flower likes me so much!

In front of Withania, Cloud Chaser’s hind legs stretched out, bobbing up and down as the pegasus sought to press herself into Withania’s lower body as much as possible. Without a second thought, Withania scooped the two legs together and stuffed them into her mouth, guiding them into her throat with ease. There was a gasp from under her sagging belly as Cloud Chaser was pulled forward, and the earth mare plunged her mouth over a second pair of cutie marks, her tongue finding its way between the smaller, but still soft hips.

Cloud Chaser’s gasp quickly turned to squeaks as a honeyed tongue began to lap at her folds, pushing sticky nectar into her passage faster than her body could counter with its own lubricants. Withania waited until she felt Flitter beginning to settle down in her stomach, lungs flooded with her sweet juices, and then used her forelegs to stuff more of Cloud Chaser into her mouth. The other pegasus was flopped over her rounded belly, rubbing her face with the smooth fur and petals, whilst the bottom half of her body disappeared into Withania’s maw to the wet slurp of gulps and swallows.

Still taking her time, Withania fumbled under the huge mass of pegasus in front of her until she found Cloud Chaser’s forelegs, and pushed them into her mouth alongside her folded wings. This had the effect of pulling her prey’s shoulders back, so that the lavender pony was raised up. Withania pivoted back on the huge round ball of her belly to support the home stretch, and Cloud Chaser descended into the yoga-ball sized barrel filled with all the sweet sauce that she could ever drink. And Flitter.

“Hooooooooooo!” cooed Withania, settling her chest and forelegs over the huge round belly underneath her. She could feel Cloud Chaser tracing her hooves down the stomach walls, feeling out the space available, finding her other half suspended next to her. Within only a few moments there was a kick as she ran out of air and started breathing in the nectar they were both drowned in. The earth pony lay over the top of them, pressing their bodies together, joining them in their bath.

Her messy marehood, left wound up but unfinished by Cloud Chaser begged her for more attention, but she couldn’t reach it. Pouting in frustration, she fumbled for grip with her hind hooves, and began to gently press her hips into the soft ball of pony belly in front. She clenched her folds open and shut, imagining them to be filled by something long and round - and discovered that holding her pussy shut quickly built a pressure of the thicker nectar secreting from deep within.

Sensing her guests inside reacting to both their own libidos and her influence, her efforts were rewarded with a surge of pent up energy sweeping her off of her hooves. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, dripping golden saliva onto the grass, her marehood leaked profusely, and her hind legs gave way to her slouching over her overstuffed gut. Her mind fogged over entirely, drifting into the sensations of the two ponies inside of her, their mouths, marehoods, and every other orifice pumped full of her nectar, flowing from one end and out the other, lulling them into lustful sedation - until Withania herself dozed off, back and legs spread in the warmth of the sun.

6. An Unexpected Visitor

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Withania woke up in her bed, the late morning sun peeking between the curtains in a line that had slowly traveled over the pillow until it cast over the sleeping pony’s eye. She raised one foreleg and looked at the pale green petals on her fur. Hadn’t she brushed them out yet?

Of course, I got eaten… and then somehow regrew again… How did I get home? I found Flitter and Cloud Chase- OH NO…

She whipped back the covers and saw her normal stocky chest and barrel in front of her.

“No no no!” she muttered, clattering down the stairs, “I can’t have digested two ponies and dropped the weight overnight! Maybe it hasn’t been a full day, if I take the potion now they might be okay!”

Mane a mess and leaving a trail of petals in her wake, she cantered through the kitchen, out the door, swept the sliding door of the bigger greenhouse open - and then stopped dead in her tracks.

Sitting at her writing desk was Princess Twilight Sparkle.

The local heroine and Princess of Friendship had Withania’s various note books arranged in front of her, as well as her battered microscope. She also seemed to be taking notes on the chemistry set that Withania was using to distil her reformation potion.

“P-p-Princess!” stuttered the earth pony, dropping to one knee.

“Hello Withania. I suppose you’re looking for this?” replied the alicorn, holding up a vial of deep purple potion in her levitation magic. “Don’t worry, you don’t need it. Flitter and Cloud Chaser are fine, but we’ll get to that. First thing’s first, can you control yourself right now?”

Withania stared at her slack jawed while she processed this information. The two pegasi she’d eaten were apparently safe, so that was that panic over. Now she was just in more trouble than she’d ever imagined possible.

“Yes,” she said, understanding what Twilight was implying, “Yesterday morning was just… things were out of hand… I- Oh no not again!” Withania shut her mouth and covered her nose with one hoof self-consciously.

“Oh don’t worry about that either, I’m an alicorn. We’re incredibly resistant to mind-affecting spells or effects,” said Twilight, waving her concern aside. Immediately after saying this she breathed in and then had to shake her head, as if dislodging something. “Wow, although I have to admit I can see why you had ponies literally begging for you to eat them. Your pollen has quite a kick…”

Withania crouched down on the cool flagstones with her forelegs over her face and groaned. “Princess I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean for any of this, it all got out of control so fast and I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know what I am anymore…”

“Please, call me Twilight - and trust me, I know how it feels to be responsible for a situation getting out of hand, that’s why I’ve come here to help you.”

“I don’t think you’ve managed to mutate into a pony-eating plant-hybrid before,” mumbled Withania.

“Maybe not, but I was the one who brainwashed all of ponyville into irrational lust for a childhood toy. Boy, was Princess Celestia mad with me when she found out what happened!”

“That was you?” asked the earth pony, uncovering her eyes to look up at the infallible alicorn. “I remember that happening - just not… what exactly happened.”

“Yes, that was me who did that,” chuckled Twilight. “The important thing is getting help when you need it. Now, I hope you don’t mind but I made up some of your tea, since I didn’t know how long you’d be asleep for. Would you like some?”

Withania nodded and upended a wooden crate in the corner to use as a second stool, while Twilight poured them both tea from her chipped teapot. She hadn’t used that tea pot in years, but the idea of sharing it with a new friend in her green house was suddenly the most comforting thing she’d felt all week.

Figures that the Princess of Friendship would know what to do… she thought gratefully.

“So…” began Twilight, adjusting the position of the notes and journals on Withania’s scuffed workbench. She sat as if at her own writing desk, but Withania didn’t mind. She actually felt flattered to see her battered equipment and notes being used in such an ‘official’ manner.

“I’ve read your reports about the Magnus Tegmen - which by the way is quite amazing, between that and this whole garden I would love to sit down and pick your brain about horticulture - and so I understand why you have the petals and vines. But when I magically removed Flitter and Cloud Chaser from you, they were in some kind of stasis matching your description of the Magnus Tegmen - and you didn’t mention any of that in your journal. Since there’s no way you could’ve gone all these months without knowing you’d been changed by the flower, I’m assuming that something happened to you recently - specifically a couple of days ago?”

“Yes, I was uh… using the Tegmen on Sunday,” explained Withania, picking her words carefully, “And it was a bit more aggressive than usual - but then I was kind of coaxing it on. Princess, now that you’re an alicorn do you feel earth pony magic in you as well?”

“Please Withania, ‘Twilight’ is fine!” she replied, touching Withania’s hoof with her own. “I have to admit I haven’t explored it much since Unicorn magic is much more… direct, but yes I do feel a sort of… empathy with nature that wasn’t there before.”

“Well, you see I don’t think the Tegmen did this naturally, I think it was me creating a bond with it that caused this to happen - it would explain why it didn’t happen the first time either. This was the third time, and the next morning I woke up to find that I’d been physically changed by the plant. My stomach seems to be a nectar reservoir, the nectar seems to be in my mouth, throat, and uh… everywhere else… I’m also fairly sure that I’m photosynthesising, the sun just, makes me feel more awake; I can just keep going while the sun is out.”

“Fascinating…” remarked Twilight, rapidly scrawling notes on her own roll of paper, while looking at the diagrams Withania had drawn in her journals. “And the pollen breath? I can see from here that you’re not breathing at all. How does that work?”

“I’m not sure… That bit is kind of the downside right now, the other changes haven’t really been a problem - I can still eat normal food and everything. But I need to breath out to speak still, and when I do - well, I think you know that bit.”

“Mhmm. While I was looking for you I spoke to Zecora and she said that a face mask had protected her, but based on theories your nectar is all part of the same effect, so wearing a mask yourself won’t stop it. We’ll come back to that problem… What happened after you saw Zecora? You seemed to disappear for half a day before I found you with Flitter and Cloud Chaser.”

“Well… I got attacked my timberwolves. And eaten. And then the wolf that ate me uh… passed a seed that I think is somewhere inside me. And it grew into a smaller Tegmen flower that reformed me.”

“You regrew?” clarified Twilight, her eyebrows raising incredulously, “Oh we have got to get you to my lab so I can study you properly… I’ve never seen anything like this- Poison Joke can do amazing things, but its effect is magical by nature; your transformation seems to be biological which is simply astonishing!”

Withania’s ears drooped as she heard this - Twilight was going to take her away. I suppose it’s for the best… I’ve proven that I’m dangerous right now. Hopefully I’ll get put somewhere with a window at least.

“Alright,” she said tonelessly, “Can I arrange to have someone finish off my orders for this week, and make sure the garden gets watered?”

“This week?” Twilight said, looking confused, “Oh we’ll only be a couple of hours- I expect you have a lot to do after being out all of yesterday too…”

“But… aren’t you arresting me or something?”

“Oh Withania! No! You’re fine- no one got hurt. We all look out for each other to stop bad things happening. I think I have a lot to fill you in on… but let’s do that while I give you a check up. What chores do you need done this afternoon? I’ll get Spike to do them for you.”

“Uhh… well the garden needs watering, and that box there needs to be delivered to the Spa, and then I need to do a stock-take of the herb garden in the other greenhouse...” she listed, watching Twilight added things items to her notes.

“No problem. Alright let’s go!” announced Twilight. Then with no warning whatsoever Withania felt an immense magical aura around her, a split second later the entire world turned inside out and she was in a completely different room.

Twilight was wearing a lab coat. The earth pony was still sitting on the crate and holding half a cup of tea. Withania dared not move, looking around the room without moving her head, as if she expected to get blinked out of existence any moment.

The room was roughly rounded, but with irregular walls, as if they were inside a huge tree trunk bigger than Withania’s house. The walls were crystalline, with dozens of twinkling lights hanging from the ceiling that combined into a bright, flat light across the whole room. A spiral staircase on the far side revealed that they were most likely underground - probably in the basement of Twilight’s crystal-tree-castle thing, Withania figured.

“You said you had a lot to fill me in on - what did you mean by that? Is this why you don’t seem that worried that I ate two other ponies?”

“Correct,” replied Twilight, walking around the room and arranging laboratory equipment for use, “Predation isn’t exactly illegal, it’s just handled on a need-to-know basis. The Equestrian Royalty has practised it for years, which has rubbed off onto other private social circles - some of which you’ve already encountered.”

“But why?” Withania asked, “I thought it was just a weird kink that myself and a few others had…”

“Think about it Withania,” the princess explained, “Once upon a time we ran out of necessity to escape from danger - now we run for recreation. Once upon a time we mated purely for procreation and survive the genepool - now we do it for love. Once upon a time we preyed on others to survive… Is it at all surprising that we now find ourselves doing it for pleasure?”

“Why is it a secret then?”

“Need-to-know basis,” corrected Twilight, “When we hear of a new predator, we advise them about a civil code of conduct. We can’t have ponies dying of course, so we make sure that predators know how to cast the BACKUP spell, or some other protection for their prey. If everypony and their husband were preying on each other it would be incredibly difficult to maintain order. By regulating the practise, ponies in the know can enjoy themselves in private.”

“Backup?”

“Yes… Balducci Almond's Conjured Kinetic Undigesting Prestidigitation. In laypony’s terms - the reformation spell. You must know it already because it’s the spell you managed to infuse into a potion - which might I add is quite impressive, you clearly have more talents than just gardening - I believe you got it from Mulberry Tart? And yes, we know about Mulberry. She’s one of the more… adventurous predators. But we turn a blind eye because she’s quite apt at covering her tracks.”

Withania sipped from the tea cup still in her hoof, her mind reeling at this information. Suddenly she felt that she’d been opened up to a much larger conspiracy that was far beyond what she thought she knew about predation.

“Okay Withania, please stand in front of this screen for me and try to hold still!” said the princess, arranging a large white sheet of paper resembling a low-mounted projector screen.

Withania put down her tea and walked over and stood as directed, so that the screen was on her left. Twilight sat down facing the screen and took a deep breath. There was a loud hum of her magical aura - but looking out of the corner of her eye Withania didn’t see anything glowing, not even the alicorn’s horn.

“Thank you, you can move now,” Twilight said. Then she pushed over a large flood lamp on a wheeled stand and pointed it at the screen. Withania squinted as the lamp turned on, and then murmured a surprised ‘Wow!’ as an image formed - a perfect silhouette of how she’d been standing, but all of her internal organs were visible as grey shapes of varying shadow.

Twilight sat just a few inches away from the canvas with her brow furrowed as she studied the cross-section. “H’mm…” she said, “The proportions of your body have changed. Your lungs should be this big, but they’ve shrunk considerably. You would be struggling for air if you still needed to breathe. In exchange for that, your esophagus and stomach is noticeably larger - making it much easier for your to swallow things whole. You can see the reservoir of nectar taking up all this space in your stomach as well - doesn’t that make you feel bloated?”

“Not really,” replied Withania, self-consciously rubbing her middle with one hoof, “I feel a little heavier, but it… it sort of feels good if I’m honest…”

“It’s like the nectar saliva then, you’ve acclimatised to the sensations. Look at that, your heart is completely encased in something- that must be the seed you regrow from - amazing! Your lower gut is enlarged as well… intestines seem much shorter, but wider, able to handle bigger things. The Tegmen Flower doesn’t digest its prey- but your body seems to be fully equipped for that still.”

“What… what condition were Flitter and Cloud Chaser in?”

“Soft, but quite intact. This is probably to do with the Tegmen’s multiple stages. Maybe you can chose - subconsciously or willingly - if your prey is suspended or digested. It’s difficult to know what’s going on without seeing a demonstration though. I think I’d better go in and take a look from the inside.”

Withania blinked, lowering her hoof again to stare at Twilight. “Come again?”

“I’ll see from the inside,” repeated Twilight, “You eat me and then I can watch the entire process first and, and we’ll find out what’s really happening in there.”

7. Vicarious

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Withania fidgeted around Twilight whilst the princess scratched out more notes at her lab desk, along with what looked like a note to Spike.

“I can’t eat you! You’re a princess!” wailed Withania, placing her hoof on Twilight’s chest in protest.

“Yes and as a princess I want to do this. Think of the science, Withania! Think how much we’ll learn on a trip through your insides!”

“But how will we learn anything? When I get eaten I usually pass out as soon as I start going soft… Plus we don’t know if the reformation spell works for me now…”

“BACKUP will work for any living predator that consumes their prey,” Twilight reminded her, “Your muscle memory knows what you ate and what you digested, it’s that memory that the spell calls on to rebuild your prey. With me casting it we can go a full forty-eight hours into the process. I’m going to combine it with a mind-linking spell I developed myself - it feeds my experiences directly into your memories, so whatever happens to me will be recorded in your brain for later retrieval. All you have to do is sit back and enjoy me!”

Were it not for the fact that Withania herself was quite happy to feed herself to somepony else, she would’ve thought that the princess had gone quite mad. But all things as they were she could see a combination of scientific research and being prey to an exotic new predator was too much for Twilight to resist.

Meanwhile, Twilight had opened a storage cupboard along one of the walls and dragged out a huge plush bean-bag that looked like a giant ravioli, big enough for two ponies to comfortably share. She sat down on one end of it and patted the other invitingly. Withania reluctantly sidled onto the soft cushion, trying not to stare at the princess sitting almost eagerly in front of her.

“Now then, once you’ve eaten me, don’t do anything, just let your body do whatever it wants to. Unless you feel like there’s something you’re supposed to do - in which case do that. Does that make sense?”

“Umm…”

“Perfect!” went on Twilight, magicking the letter she’d written out of the air, “Spike has a letter from me explaining that my schedule is full for the next two days, so you don’t have to worry about me! Let’s get started!”

She leaned forward eagerly and dived straight into a kiss on Withania’s lips. Her horn glowed and Withania felt a cool touch on the crest of her forehead, where a unicorn’s horn would be. She looked up and saw a curved beam of magic linking her to Twilight’s horn, and she felt a rush of emotion she didn’t recognise as her own - excitement of discovery, curiosity of the unknown, expectation of pleasure.

“Now we can feel each other’s senses, you’ll feel what it’s like to be me in this situation as well as your own experience,” explained Twilight between gentle pecks at Withania’s muzzle, “I’ll lead, just do what feels right…”

The princess parted Withania’s lips and brushed their tongues, before gently prying the earth mare’s mouth open with her muzzle, licking and smelling the sweet nectar inside. Withania sat with her back straight, letting the alicorn lean into her, but hesitant.

What am I going to say when someone asks me where Twilight went?! she thought, looking around the room, rather than at Princess Twilight Sparkle slowly trying to insert her muzzle into her own, I know she’s the element of magic, but she doesn’t know what my body might do!

Twilight seemed to pick up on her lack of enthusiasm and pulled back, her nose stained yellow with Withania’s saliva. She had a lustful look in her eyes, but thanks to the linking spell Withania could feel that Twilight was still fully in control of herself.

“H’mm… If I recall you tend to stimulate the Tegmen flower at the beginning - that must be where I’m going wrong here…” she said, and reached one hoof down between Withania’s hind legs, seeking out her sensitive area. Withania’s gasp betrayed her attempts to stay composed.

“Wh-what? I didn’t mention that in my notes!” she protested, her voice shaking as the princess of friendship parted her nether lips with the tip of her hoof and traced the slick fluid within up her slit.

“That bit was in the stories you also have on your desk,” explained Twilight in sultry tones, “I can read at six hundred words per minute with a one hundred percent comprehension. I’ve read all your little adventures while you were asleep this morning…”

While Twilight’s idea of pillow-talk didn’t really do anything for Withania, the idea that she’d read the errotic stories left on the desk did bring a dark green flush to her cheeks, and she felt Twilight’s massaging hoof down in her nethers spread her wide in response. As the heat of stimulation flooded through her body, Withania felt the pang of lust again, and with the flip of a switch, the alicorn in front of her suddenly looked drastically more appealing.

“Turn around,” Withania whispered, leaning in to kiss Twilight again, “I won’t get past your horn like this…”

“Don’t worry I have just the thing,” replied Twilight, and with a quick glance to the shelves along the wall, a bottle floated over in her magical aura, from which she plucked out a spherical blue pill. She pulled away from Withania and quickly swallowed it, before diving back into the kiss.

Withania had no idea what was going on here, but she nearly spluttered in shock as blue spots appeared on Twilight’s long, elegant alicorn horn, and it began to bend like a wilting flower, until it was flexible enough for Twilight to brush back with her fringe - supple and no longer threatening to stab Withania in the throat.

The clear obstruction now somehow out of the way, Withania pushed into another long kiss, instinctively exhaling through her nose as Twilight breathed in the intoxicating scent. She could feel the princess’ desires, her will to let Withania take over and suspend her deep within, the lust growing until Withania’s thoughts became Twilight’s experience.

Feeling the quivering desires from Withania’s seeping pussy, Twilight once again parted her lips, pushing her nose into the earth pony’s mouth. Withania responded by opening her jaws as wide as she could, letting them stretch wide over the rest of Twilight’s muzzle, giving her a glimpse of the pale green interior glistening with the aromatic nectar that had been sending other ponies into a drunken frenzy. It was delicious, but thankfully Twilight was able to keep her head as those dripping jaws stretched up to her ears, pressing her floppy horn back.

As her glowing horn brushed along the roof of Withania’s mouth, Twilight heard, or almost felt, a deep moan of pleasure as her partner tasted raw magic for the first time, a cool, tingling sensation not unlike peppermint, a taste that enhanced flavours around it and stimulated the mouth. She felt Withania wrap her forelegs around her and draw her into a close embrace, which also served to pressed Twilight’s slick hoof into the tight, but stretchy folds down below.

Twisting her head slightly to make sure she was getting evenly coated in golden saliva, Twilight pushed with her hind legs, and her brow touched the back of Withania’s throat, triggering it to clench and grasp her head. Withania instinctively pushed down, her mouth sinking over the princess’ twitching body to the shoulder blades. It was not her first time entering another pony’s body this way - but sweet floral smell and alluring atmosphere inside Withania was unlike anything she’d felt. The hybrid pony’s esophagus stretched easily to accommodate her wings, but compressed about them with ease, creating a rippling wave that caused her to lurch forward.

As Twilight’s muzzle poked through into Withania’s stomach, she was met with a flood of nectar. With not even a bubble of air, she began to drink, gulping mouthful after mouthful as if she had been lost in the desert. Withania’s body vibrated with another moan of pleasure, feeling the undulations of Twilight’s swallowing traveling back up her throat. She leaned forward into the space where the princess had been sitting, her body now occupying the entire beanbag, her belly expanded to accommodate alicorn. Twilight felt Withania’s jaws slide down her rump, legs, and finally close over her hooves, with nothing more than a purple and pink tail sticking out behind.

Twilight found herself forced into a foetal position by the plush walls of Withania’s stomach. She held her breath and gingerly tried to open her eyes. To her amazement, the nectar didn’t sting, and in the dim light of her horn, she could see the pale, almost white, lining of her new home - although everything was tinted yellow by the nectar she was suspended in.

She wanted to cast a spell for underwater breathing, however she felt the tightness in her lungs already - she’d left it too late! She put a hoof out against the stomach wall, pressing out to try and signal to Withania, and felt a corresponding press back, Withania rubbed her own hoof against her soft belly in response, feeling her catch move inside her.

Withania! Withania I can’t breath! Twilight shouted in her mind, hoping that her host would hear over their mental link.

“Sssshhh,” cooed Withania, laying on her belly while drawing circles in her side with one hoof, “Stay calm, this will be unpleasant for a moment, but then comes the bliss…”

Twilight pressed her hoof into Withania’s through the soft padding of her belly, as if they were holding hooves, and choked bubbles out from her mouth. Her lungs drew in the soupy fluid around her, and then after a few false coughs and gasps - she was breathing again. She could feel the fluid rush in and out of her larynx, she watched in awe as the last few bubbles of air floated to the top of the stomach, and then her surroundings convulsed as Withania belched, releasing the trapped air and sealing Twilight in.

It’s amazing… Twilight thought, I can feel it swirling inside of me, it’s like Withania herself is taking over my body…

Outside, Withania hiccuped a few times as the last of the air from inside her meal escaped, and she turned over onto her back, feeling the glorious weight of her belly wobble on top of her. She’d actually eaten an alicorn princess. Twilight was hers now, she could feel her body sapping magic, nutrients, and a dozen different species of microscopic pollen particles off of her body. Her drenched pussy winked to remind her that Twilight hadn’t finished her off before she’d swallowed her, but she couldn’t reach to do anything.

She rolled over again, and leaned forward so her neck touched the beanbag and her tail stuck up into the air, and gently began to press her hips back and forth against the soft and plush gut between them, until she found the perfect angle. The rush of lustful energy flowed back along Twilight’s mental link until the princess inside her could no longer keep her own hooves away from her nethers, parting her folds and pressing her button repeatedly, her juices leaking into the amber mass she was suspended in.

Withania pressed harder, squashing the plush mass of her belly in pulses, willing her nectar to drive deep inside the captive princess, to flood her pussy, her anus, everything until there was no part of the alicorn she wasn’t touching - she bit down in the bean bag as she felt her aching flower contract, a single bead of vicious yellow nectar squeezing out to run down the inside of her thigh while the two ponies simultaneously relaxed into a post-coitus stupor.

Inside, Twilight breathed the fluid of her surroundings in smooth gasps. The sensation of her surroundings feeding off of her was exhilarating, not a life-sapping tiredness, but the intimate embrace of sharing body heat, and she had more than enough magic to spare for her host to enjoy. The fleshy green walls had closed in around her, pressing her limbs together into unnatural positions, although with no pain. Her joints and flesh had softened in the golden brew, she was malleable, content to sit as she was until Withania’s surrounding drowsiness began to take hold, and in the soft candle flicker of her horn’s glow, she drifted out of consciousness.

8. Sunlight for Two

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A distant bang woke Withania with a start. She lifted her head up, the beanbag rustling under her body, and looked around. The lights in Twilight’s laboratory had dimmed, with the only sounds coming from some apparatus on one of the work benches humming quietly away to itself.

The bang had been a door closing somewhere upstairs, Withania realised, and she suddenly became aware that she was still in the castle - and then looking down at herself, remembering that she was still in the castle having eaten Princess Twilight Sparkle.

“Twilight?” she said to the reduced, but still prominent bulge in her belly, “You still going?”

There was no reply, vocal or otherwise. But while Withania listened, she heard - or felt - the faint buzz of sensation at the back of her mind. Twilight’s mental link was still going, just as she’d intended. Withania could feel a faint sensation of fluidity, of being formless and filtering through a passage, dissipating into a great, soft surrounding mass. Gently pressing her belly bulge, Withania could feel a soft mass still in there, but it seemed Twilight was no longer a pony, and at most of her had dissolved into the nectar.

Withania twisted onto her side and her eyes widened in shock as she saw her flanks, already significantly larger than they normally were. From her rump, across her hips, and up to her shoulders a layer of pudge had appeared, smoothing out her hardy earth pony frame into sweeping curves.

She cooed to herself, standing up to test-drive her luscious new shape. She was heavier on the hoof for certain, and her belly wobbled under her barrel, almost pulling her off-balance.

“Phew, well Twilight you certainly fit me like a charm,” she said, rubbing her hoof along the plush cushion of her flank, “At least I get a test drive for a bigger figure until the backup spell kicks in and siphons it all off again…”

She wondered what to do next. It was clear at this point that her body was set on digesting still - which was contrary to what the Tegmen Flower did. But I’m still half-pony, she thought, So it makes sense that I would digest prey. Unless there was another ability she hadn’t worked out yet. But for now Twilight had told her to let nature run its course - so that’s what she planned to do.

Looking around the lab, Withania looked at the see-through projection that was still displayed - more specifically at her digestive system and other nearby organs. Everything was simplified from what she knew should be natural. The intestine was shorter and wider, the stomach had more room to expand. Her reproductive system looked fairly normal, but she already knew from self inspection that the ever-present nectar was lining it all now.

I wonder if I can still bear foals… or if something else happens in that plumbing now...

Her musing was interrupted by a suddenly increasing sense of pressure from her rump. She was confused for a moment, truth be told she hadn’t needed to use a toilet since her transformation - tea, food, ponies, whatever she ate just seemed to get dissolved into more nectar, and her mass grew and evaporated as required. It certainly didn’t feel like a normal bathroom break either, although she couldn’t even guess what was happening now.

Looking around urgently, she spotted a tiled alcove with a shower mount and screen. It looked more like chemical spill emergency use, but that just meant it was easy to clean. She trotted over with her head low, slightly ashamed already about what might happen - but better she know what her body did now, rather than be ignorant.

Sitting on a plastic footstool that was in the corner, Withania pulled the screen curtain over the alcove. Just in case someone burst in right as she was squatting on a stool in a shower.

“Urrgh, I hope Twilight doesn’t want samples of whatever is about to haaaaAAAAAAH!”

She gasped as the pressure in her hind quarters suddenly surged, and with the burn of stretched muscle a lump suddenly escaped from under her tail, landing in a wet splat of nectar on the tile.

Withania sat still, mentally panting, but her body not automatically breathing for her. She winced and turned around, and her mouth dropped open.

A large seed the size of an apple, but resembling a chestnut sat with a slick coating of nectar on it behind the stool. She forgot about everything else in the room as she suddenly focused every part of her mind on question after question. What was this seed? Was it her own? Was it offspring? Was it just waste?

Before she could answer any of these questions, she became aware that the faint hum of Twilight’s mental link spell had suddenly gone silent. And that lead to the most likely answer to what was now in front of her.

“Twilight?” she asked, rather uselessly as she knew the seed wasn’t exactly going to start talking. But her memories of the night she’d been eaten by the alpha timberwolf flooded back to her. She hadn’t seen what she looked like as a seed, but she knew that there had been a seed, which had grown into a plant, from which she’d then come out of again.

Her body had done the same thing to Twilight.

The backup spell won’t fix this… this isn’t digestion, she thought as she picked up the shower head and rinsed the seed of nectar. I need to get back to the garden and regrow her… and hope she comes out as a pony and not like… well, me.

With decision came action, and after carefully trying the seed so that it wouldn’t absorb anymore water and swell, Withania popped it into a satchel she found near the door. Plodding up the staircase she nudged open a doorway into the main hall of the castle, looking around for which direction the front door might be in - and then immediately crashed into Spike, who also hadn’t been looking where he was going.

“Ooof!” he exclaimed, before picking up the quill and scroll that he’d be carrying in front of his face, “Oh hello - you must be Withania… Twilight told- woooah…”

He stopped talking as his eyes travelled past hers and down her sizeable flanks and hips, eyebrows raised and hands slowly dropping to his sides.

“Yes…” replied Withania shortly, “Did you water my garden for me?”

His obviously male stare seemed to be authentic, rather than her influence. With her flanks at his eye level, the size difference between them was probably big enough that he wouldn’t even make a bulge if he were in there. She wondered if the same thought was on his mind.

“Your garden…” he repeated, looking up at her as she paused, “Yes… and uh, Twilight sent me a letter explaining that she had to dash off to Canterlot for a day or two, and that if you needed anything else, just let me know…”

“I’ll do that,” Withania said giving him a wink. She began to walk down the hallway from the direction he’d come, making sure to give her hips a good sway as she did so.

“Anything at all!” he called after her. She smirked as she saw the main door way ahead of her. I think I might’ve just awakened a thing for bigger gals in the little guy… she chuckled to herself, and pushed the front door open.

She realised with a click of the brain that she hadn’t been covering her mouth in front of Spike. He was eyeing me up, but that wasn’t the same as how other ponies were acting - is that a dragon thing or has my breath changed after ‘catching’ something?

That would be a test for later, she thought. Plant Twilight first. Which wasn’t at all strange, planting a princess that she’d eaten and converted into a seed. She quickly trotted across town and found the safety of her greenhouse once again.

Taking out the seed and setting it on her work bench she inspected it properly. Judging by its weight it was fairly dense - probably packed with endosperm, a seed’s food supply, given that it could grow into a mature plant in a single night. Or at least she could - but then Withania was an earth pony with particularly strong earth pony magic. An unaided seed would probably be slower to mature, she’d better plant it as soon as possible.

Withania picked an empty plot in the middle of the garden outside. The original tegmen seemed to do just fine in this soil, so she dug a hole and planted the seed. If it was one thing she did know, it was growing plants. She quickly whirled around the greenhouse picking up a bag of compost, some additives, and the hose pipe. First she put a layer of phosphorus heavy fertiliser over the seed, adding a little boost of a growth potion that the tegmen flowers seemed to favour, then she turned over the soil around the plant to mix in the new soil and gave the whole plot a generous watering.

A sense of calm nullified her concerns as she worked, dropping her into her focused state of doing everything in her knowledge and power to help her plant friends do their best, her love and energy going into the work.

“Alright,” she said to patch, “I think that’s about all I can do. Time to sit down and watch the plants grow.”

She fetched a notebook and pencil from the greenhouse and gratefully sat down on her pudgy rump in front of Twilight’s allotment. The sun was perfect, warming and refreshing but not scorching. Withania normally preferred to be pottering around the greenhouse, reading, drinking tea, anything but nothing - however for now she felt quite peaceful just sitting under the sun with her eyes closed.

Four Hours

The regrowth plant - I honestly have no idea what to call it yet - is growing at such remarkable speed that I would assume it to be fauna on first discovery. I am aware that when I underwent this process, I grew to bloom within a single night. Either the additional sunlight, my care of this specimen, or a combination of both is certainly aiding its development. The leaves are fully grown and the bud has formed, but most of the plant’s efforts seem to be going into the stem at the moment. This makes sense as it needs to become significantly stronger to bear the weight of the flower and pony before blooming.

My memories of regrowing are dreamlike in nature, I recall sensations and emotions, but cannot visualise anything. As such I assume that the pony growing in front of me cannot see or hear me yet.

Withania disappeared back into her house to fetch a cup of tea, and upon returning noticed that the ground around Twilight’s plant was nearly dry already.

“Wow, I guess growing something this big this quickly soaks up a lot of water…” she said, half to herself, and half to the plant. The bud was turning lavender in colour, another confirmation that it really was Twilight in front of her. Another generous dousing of water from the hose and Withania resumed her seat and note taking. This process of growing, observing and taking notes wasn’t alien to her, she’d done it enough when developing the Magnus Tegmen in the first place - but the idea of sitting here and watering an alicorn princess flower plant was definitely a new top spot for her Odd Things I Have Done list. It would have been fun were it not for a swirling sensation of dread in the pit of her stomach that Twilight had been transformed.

She herself wasn’t really any the worse for wear, but she understood so little of her new nature, its permanence, long-term effects… The more she thought about it the more she realised how reckless it had been for Twilight and herself to start fooling around, assuming that the backup spell would just fix everything later.

Six Hours

As the stem rapidly grew in width and strength, the flower bud began to balloon in size. The overall plant has not grown tall like a normal tegmen, this seems to be due to its temporary nature - it has no need to compete for sunlight. I shall have to experiment on one at some point to see if it’s possible to continue growing the plant after blooming. My own flower wilted the moment I left it.

The petals are a luscious purple, with fringes of other colours, a delightful accent of the host. I would love to know if the pony inside is developing in size like a foal to an adult, or if they are akin to a shrunken pony and just get bigger until the flower blooms. Perhaps Princess Twilight’s see-through machine can be used to inspect the inside of the flower as it develops in a future experiment.

At current rates, I expect this specimen to bloom before sun-down. I think the plant has fully developed now, but there is an element of waiting for the host pony to ‘wake up’ as it were, for their mind to reach a state of readiness.

It was a couple of hours later that Withania spotted the lavender tips of Twilight’s flower curling. She was trimming the shrubs as a means of busying herself without needing to expend too much effort - her extra weight had its disadvantages of making everything more strenuous, but even the light exercise she had been working through today, along with not needing to eat or drink all day, seemed to be burning it all off at record pace.

Trotting over to the huge purple bud in the centre of the garden, she sat down to watch with anticipation as the petals slowly unfurled before her eyes. Beautiful midnight-purple and pink highlights streaked the inside of the petals, catching a satin sheen in the sunlight as they opened to catch the late afternoon rays.

Ruining the fairy-tale effect slightly was Princess Twilight Sparkle, sprawled out in the centre of the flower like a lazy Sunday morning, breathing nasally with her mouth open. Withania let out a sigh of relief as she saw this undignified pose - Twilight’s open mouth was dark pink like any normal pony. At least one trip through Withania’s insides wasn’t enough to alter someone.

“Twilight?” said Withania, leaning into the flower and giving her a gentle nudge on the shoulder. Twilight stirred and swallowed, her face scrunching up in the sunlight, then her eyes opened slightly to see who was waking her.

“Urrgh, Withania?” she mumbled, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She slowly looked around, although from her position her world was essentially the purple flower and a green earth pony leaning over the edge between the petals. “Where are we?”

“Uh, my garden,” admitted Withania, “I might’ve turned you into a plant seed. And regrown you in a flower. Turns out that happens if I digest a pony. Are you okay?”

Twilight blinked and stretched out slightly in her flower, looking up at the sun. “I feel… amazing. The best sleep I’ve had in my life. I can feel the sun, and the earth… and you leaning against me… Is this what you feel?”

Withania felt a warmth from Twilight’s smile as she probed her senses, experiencing the sensation of being connected to an entirely new extension of her body that reached into the ground below while soaking up energy from the sky above.

“Not all the time,” she replied, “I mean, I feel the sun like that, but the roots and leaves, that’s because you’re still connected to the flower you grew inside. It’s part of you at the moment - although you’ll have to leave it sooner or later. You’re still a normal pony, by the way, I was worried I’d accidentally transformed you, but it looks like one time isn’t enough.”

“Wait, I regrew in a flower?” Twilight suddenly exclaimed as her rational mind clicked back on again and she started thinking about what was happening. She shuffled forward towards Withania, who stepped back to give her space, and then promptly fell out of the flower onto the flagstones. Withania winced, seeing the vine between her legs snag and release. “Ow!” the princess yelped, although apparently more from hitting the ground. She scrambled to her hooves and whirled around to see the huge purple flower she’s spent the day inside.

“Amazing! Oh, it’s wilting- can you do anything to save it?”

“Not right now, I don’t know enough about how they work yet. These plants seem to be completely unstable, putting everything into a flower that blooms once and then immediately dies when the connection to the host pony is severed. I need to study this one to see what it needs to survive. However, I did make notes on it while you were growing. Growth rate, development stages, dimensions, what I did to plant and feed the seed, plenty of bedtime reading for someone like you I think!”

Twilight looked like her birthday had come early as she scanned the notepad that Withania handed to her. “This is amazing! Have you considered the possibilities here? A pony can be turned into a seed, along with all the durability of one, transported in stasis and then regrown in less than a day! And we can interface with a plant, feel its roots and leaves! There’s enough material here to keep me busy for weeks!”

“Aheheh, I’m just glad you’re okay,” said Withania self consciously, “I was actually really worried I’d done something terrible to you…”

Twilight lowered the notepad to look at Withania, tilting her head kindly. “Withania, you’re not a monster. You’ve turned into something incredible, we just don’t understand everything about you yet. But the more we discover, the more amazing you seem to be. I’m sorry if I rushed you though, I suppose something we should learn from this is that the backup spell isn’t perfect…”

“Quite. Look at all this pudge you gave me. I have to walk all this off now!” said Withania with a smile, leaning to one side to show off her curvy hip. “Not that I’m complaining…” she added hastily.

“Me either. We need to repeat this test with somepony else so I can measure everything!”

“Yea I think a day or two and I’ll be back to norm- wait, what?”

9. Ripe For Harvest

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Twilight seemed to vanish from Withania’s daily life as quickly as she had arrived, leaving the earth pony to carry on pottering around her garden and selling her produce as she always had done.

It was a relief to feel normal. Granted, she was eating virtually nothing, surviving mostly on sunlight, and occasionally a pony spotted her strange pale-green mouth and gums - but that wasn’t the strangest thing in Ponyville these days, so she received no grief for it. Her dangerously alluring breath seemed to have greatly lessened since going all the way with Twilight, but only time would tell how long it would take her to cycle back around to her ‘catch stage’ where her body would be doing its best to attract prey again. At least she was aware of it now, which meant she could carefully control where she breathed while talking, and any other time, not breathe at all.

In the mid-week, a letter arrived from the princess by way of dragon fire - almost scaring Withania to death as she feared her greenhouse was about to catch alight. It read:

Dear Withania,

Many thanks for your cooperation during our little ‘experiment’. I hope you didn’t feel pressured into doing anything you were uncomfortable with, and I am most grateful for the unique experience you gave me.

I am eager to investigate further into your incredible nature, but duty calls and I must put this investigation on hold for the time being. I have every faith that you are growing accustomed to your new self and have gained better control of your ‘involuntary’ desires. That being said, if you find yourself in trouble you can always turn to either myself or another pony in the know and we can resolve more or less any predicament.

I will be in contact again once I have the free time for our next experiment. I would be most grateful if you could continue to take notes on your own findings - all of your existing work has been incredibly useful!

Your friend,

Twilight Sparkle

“I should probably be grateful to her for saving my rump when I got carried away with those pegasi,” said Withania aloud in the greenhouse. She put the letter down on her desk and shrugged on her apron, adorned with mini sheers, a trowel, and other gardening tools. “But I’m fairly sure Twilight isn’t interested in turning me back into a proper earth pony.”

Although it does seem less urgent now, she thought. What had initially seemed like a grave condition was becoming much less of a hindrance now she understood it better - and it seemed that there were no more hidden tricks to her new form to catch her by surprise now either.

Her musing was interrupted by the clink and squeak of the garden gate opening. Withania blinked and walked to the greenhouse door, and saw Rose nudging the gate shut with a head-butt.

“Hey Rose!” she called to catch the pink mare’s attention, “This is an unexpected surprise…”

“Good afternoon! Uh... I wanted to come and see if you were okay - me and the girls have been worried about you…”

“Worried?” said Withania, taken aback slightly, “I’m okay… just here, doin’ the gardening…”

Rose looked incredibly sheepish for a moment, shifting her hooves awkwardly and clearly embarrassed about what she wanted to say. “Umm… well, it’s just… last time you and I spoke, uh… things got a bit weird…”

Withania froze eyes wide open as she suddenly remembered the afternoon in the flower shop, her perfume-breath on overdrive, and Rose pinning her down...

“And then after that happened the next thing we heard was something about you heading into the Everfree Forest and not coming back out, and then Princess Twilight was looking for you, and then we heard nothing for another two days…”

“Oh… Yes. Um, let’s step inside for a moment…” replied Withania slowly, then turning to lead Rose into the bigger greenhouse. She offered Rose the chair and sat down on the crate.

“Withania I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to jump on you like I did, I don’t know what came over me-” went on Rose, but Withania cut her off.

“No, Rose, stop a moment- it was my fault. I’ve… I’m… Something happened to me last week and it… changed me.”

Rose looked at her with a confused look on her face. Withania wasn’t sure exactly how much she wanted to reveal - it was all too embarrassing in front of long friends who she didn’t really talk about lewd things with. But Rose deserved to know the truth if she’d been guilting herself over what had happened in the shop.

“I was doing an experiment with a giant flower, and it… Well it transformed me into mostly a plant.” To illustrate her point, Withania opened her mouth to show off the pale-green interior, and then quickly closed it once it was clear that Rose had seen it. “And now I have some kind of weird plant behaviour, the most relevant of which is that at certain times my breath is a perfume of sorts that completely knocks a pony for a loop. And that was what hit you in the flower shop last week.”

Withania expected Rose to recoil in horror and disgust, but to her surprise, she didn’t. In fact, she looked alive with curiosity.

“Wooah,” replied Rose, “I knew you grew some wild stuff here, but that’s… wild.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry Rose, I didn’t mean you to get caught up in this, I’ve got a grip on things now - thanks to Princess Twilight - but last week I was out of control.”

Rose stood up from the chair and looked closely at Withania. She definitely looked like a normal earth pony, but seeing flesh that would normally be red as a washed out green was a dead giveaway that Withania was serious.

“So that’s why she was looking for you! You’re not in trouble, are you?”

“Thankfully not, which is surprising, all things considered. It turns out that Princess Twilight is uh… surprisingly open-minded to… well she’s more interested in the scientific discoveries.”

“That’s kinda relieving to hear,” said Rose thoughtfully, “And well… at least you and I have broken the ice on… you know, having fun.”

Well, that certainly explains how easily you went down on me last week, thought Withania. True, Rose had been under the influence of what was essentially an aphrodisiac, but she’d still been far too practised in her movements to have never gotten frisky before.

“So uh, do you still have that knock-out breath?” asked Rose, and almost enthusiastically leaned forward and inhaled deeply.

“No!” said Withania, surprised at her advances. Is she trying to get hit by it again? “I mean, I do, just not as bad as last week… and I kinda don’t need to breathe like a normal pony anymore, so I can just hold my breath all the time.” Rose looked almost disappointed at this, which just posed even more questions in Withania’s head. “I suppose I can probably breathe a bit of it out if you’re curious, but I’m not sure why you would be…”

Rose was holding her forehooves over her mouth, clearly trying to work up the courage to say something, but not getting the conversation where she wanted it to be. She took another deep breath, this time more to steel herself than trying to sample Withania again.

“Imagine… imagine if you could just skip to the fun part,” she said hesitantly, “And just lose all your inhibitions in an instant without being judged for it? That… was what it felt like last week. I just got this sweet smell in my nose, and suddenly I felt like you’d just told me to throw myself at you, and… and that would make you happy, and it would feel good for me…”

Withania knew that rose meant well with these words, but all she could hear was someone saying that she had brainwashed them or something. “I understand what you’re saying, Rose, and I appreciate it… but things kind of escalate further than I’ve said, and I feel like I’m taking away people’s free will-”

“Withania it’s fine,” Rose continued, cutting her off, “I liked it. I want to feel it again, and if you say it goes further then let’s go further! I want to make you happy, no interruptions…”

Withania fought with temptation, and lost. Now she knew that neither she nor her partner would come to any real harm, it was difficult to pass up another chance at the pleasures she could unlock. They were in a safe environment and both consenting - what was the harm in a little fun? She’d be lying if she denied thinking about the afternoon with Rose in the flower shop while she was in bed these past few evenings.

“When are you next working?” she asked.

“Day after tomorrow. This is my weekend.”

“Okay. But look, if it gets too weird for you, just say and I’ll stop things alright?”

“You’re doing a poor job of talking me out of this,” said Rose, placing one hoof on Withania’s muzzle to stop her. She then pressed her body up against the green mare and kissed her deeply, tongue diving straight in to find that enticingly sweet taste again.

Withania braced herself against the workbench as Rose invaded her personal space, but accepted the kiss. She held her breath, thinking it would be better to at least try and keep things under control, but her heart was racing with anticipation. Strangely, her initial reluctance had put her in a more submissive mood. Having Rose come onto her like this was thrilling, she would be quite happy to let her do the legwork, so to speak.

“Mmmmmm,” Rose moaned into Withania, “you’re delicious… come on, give me that breath, I promise I’ll be gentle this time…” Withania gently exhaled a little, watching Rose’s reaction carefully. The other mare pulled out of the kiss and drew her breath with her eyes closed, relishing the familiar scent. Unlike last time, there was no obvious change in her eyes, the clear mania that Withania was casting on others previously was absent. Was her breath less potent today, or was it because she was being more careful? “Ohhhh… it’s even better than last time. Let’s move onto the floor, I want a drink of your flower again…”

Rose wrapped her forelegs around Withania’s neck, prizing her away from the workbench as she kissed her again, and slowly lowered her onto the flagstone floor of the greenhouse, warm with the afternoon sun beating down through the glass. She then swung her hind leg over the green mare and lay atop of her, so she had free access to the sweet honeypot between Withania’s legs. Withania was presented with Rose’s moistened folds and quickly returned the favour, nuzzling her nose into the damp passage and lapping at her peeping clit. She gasped as Rose ravenously ate her out as if she had been starved for days.

This is crazy, she thought, If this is her idea of gentle, it’s a good thing I stopped her last week.

That being said, she had to admit that the slightly rough treatment was just turning her on even more. After being in the dominant position for her last few times it felt incredible to let someone ride her. Rose was breathing heavily, her breath and tongue hot against Withania’s folds as she lapped and sucked away at the sweet ooze coming out. In response, Withania couldn’t help but let out a muffled squeak, her lips pressing just a little too hard onto Rose’s bud and making her gasp at the same time.

“Mmpf, sorry!” said Withania, pulling out again, “This is just a bit more intense than I expected my day to be!”

Rose laughed, taking a breather herself. “Oh honey, I’m just getting started! We’ve got the weekend, and you keep alluding to ‘weird things’, and I want in on it!” She got up off of Withania and turned about whilst licking her lips, then interlocked her hind legs with Withania so that both of their flowers pressed together. Holding one of Withania’s hind legs up against her chest and grinding against her crotch, she pressed her forehoof into Withania’s nightshade cutie mark. Withania felt Rose’s fluids mix with her own, and just like before she could almost taste it, driving her to more pleasure.

“You’re thicker on the hips than you used to be as well,” Rose panting, pacing herself, seeing Withania’s climax building up. “Lot of pudge in only a week. What else have you been up to?”

Withania didn’t respond, she was getting close, very close - and could feel the wave starting to build inside her as Rose compressed her clit against hers. A good poker face was something Withania definitely didn’t possess, and Rose could see her racing for the finish line. She pulled back slightly, pleasuring herself with her other free forehoof, but leaving Withania laying on her back unattended.

“Nooo! I’m so close!” moaned Withania, her eyes darting up to Rose’s devious smile. She could see what the tan mare was thinking, and being left on edge like this was torturous. “Okay okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

“Yeeees?” prompted Rose, pressing their crotches together again, but holding them both still.

“The Tegmen Flower that I grew traps animals and feeds off of excess nutrients in and on their body then releases them again, which is how I ended up getting turned into a hybrid - oh stars please, Rose I’m so close…”

“Keep going!”

“Urrrgh! I’ve got the same kind of ability now, I can eat an entire pony and regrow them as a seed afterwards, and the other way around as well!”

Rose slowly started rocking her hips back and forth again, rebuilding her rhythm and getting Withania back into sync. She leaned down over Withania and kissed her, tasting her own fluids still on the green mare’s lips. “Like, whole? How? Could I do it?” she asked, teasing Withania with light kisses to her mouth and neck.

“It’s… it’s a lot easier than you’d imagine,” continued Withania between gasps, “I can tell - aaah - I can tell you more later, let’s just do this first…”

“Withania, let me eat you and I will give you the best orgasm ever. I want to try it, right now.”

Withania’s eyes shot open wide as Rose plunged in for another deep kiss involving a lot of tongue, tasting her golden sweet salvia. Her sex-addled brain was trying to make sense of how Rose could be this much of a dark horse, but her body - specifically her pussy - was screaming: Yes, we like all of those things just say yes!

“Mmmm-hmmm!” she mumbled into Rose’s mouth, nodding at the same time. Rose finished the kiss, and then pulled back, stepping off of Withania entirely. For a moment, Withania thought Rose was up to something and looked anxiously down her chest at the tan mare, but Rose had retreated to Withania’s crotch and this time assumed a proper position for oral, practically diving into Withania’s sopping flower with gusto. She put one foreleg under Withania’s hip to hold herself in place and dug her muzzle in between the honeyed folds, then used her other forehoof to stimulate Withania’s clit at the same time.

Withania lay back and bit her lip, her own forelegs spread wide as Rose performed the most spectacular oral sex she’d ever felt, reaching deep into her passage while pleasuring her button in ways only another mare would know how. Withania’s orgasm built a broke like a tsunami, her partner expertly alternating between slurps and breaths, completely able to continue her onslaught while Withania rode to cloud nine on a rocket.

Once Rose felt Withania relax from her tension, and the flow of honey-like nectar ceased, she pulled out, panting and licking her chops. “So how does this work? How do I do it?”

“Aaahh… wow…” sighed Withania, flabbergasted. “Okay start at my hind hooves, we’ll do it rump first so I can talk you through it. Make sure you catch your breath first, once you start, you have to go all the way before you run out of breath…”

She spoke tonelessly, but not unhappily, nerves and senses on overload. She wasn’t looking, but she felt Rose pick up her hind legs and felt the warm heat of a mouth around her hooves. There was a pause, and the sensation of quicked breathing up the inside of her hocks. “That’s it, now push forward, just go for it, trust me you’ll stretch…” She felt drool and Rose’s tongue just above her fetlocks, and then a slight snort of determination. Then Rose pushed forward as directed, and Withania felt the familiar sensation of her hind legs slipping into a warm, wet gullet that hugged them together, tugging and convulsing to coax more of her inside.

“That’s it, you’re doing it!” she said encouragingly, imagining the scene vicariously in her head, rather than watching Rose and making her feel self-conscious. “Now push again, this time right up to my butt, then rest, then a big swallow to get my hips down.”

Rose did as instructed, not waiting for her lungs to run out of breath, but committing to the deed. She found Withania’s thighs were already slick with a mix of her own fluids and Withania’s addictively delicious nectar, making the act easier as she went. She couldn’t believe it, but her jaws and throat kept stretching, just as Withania said they would and within moments her muzzle was at the green mare’s pussy again, only this time on the outside. She could feel Withania’s stocky, and slightly pudgy legs all the way down the front of her chest, poking into her stomach. Now she realised she could go all the way, her arousal only grew with the seemingly unreal idea of swallowing a pony whole. Her own flower ached for more attention, trickling down her thigh - she had held off from her own orgasm to speed Withania to hers, but she sensed that she would be just as well rewarded for the wait. Her tongue lapped the errant nectar matted in Withania’s coat around her crotch, but conscious of her aching lungs, she knew she had to press on. She pushed again, Withania helpfully bracing herself so that she wasn’t pushed back, and the plush green hips slipped into her engorged mouth. With a slightly painful, but immensely satisfying swallow, Withania’s entire lower body dropped through her neck and down to her swelling belly.

“Aaaaah, perfect,” said Withania, wallowing in post-orgasmic bliss mixed with the sensual feeling of being enveloped in the body of another. “Now lead back, look up and straighten yourself. I’ll thread my forelegs in, and then just let gravity do the work, I’ll slide down into your throat, and all you have to do is keep swallowing until your mouth is clear.”

Rose lifted her head up, lurching somewhat. She’d been expecting to have to lift a lot of weight, but most of Withania was already in her middle, so her centre of gravity was only slightly off. Withania deftly tucked her forelegs into Rose’s mouth, expertly pressing into her own body to avoid discomfort on Rose’s part, and with nothing holding her up, she began to slide inexorably down, Rose’s muzzle filling her vision more and more.

Rose was grateful that the hard part was over, as her lungs were starting to burn. She swallowed hard and surprised both herself and Withania slightly by gulping her friend’s head down in one go, the entire mass of the green mare plopping down into her belly with a glorp.

“Hooooooo!” she gasped, taking giant gulps of air. As her brain cleared, the sensation of being incredibly full set in, but not in the same way as though she’d overeaten. Her belly moved as Withania shuffled inside her and righted herself. She could feel another living pony rubbing and stimulating her from the inside, and it was unlike anything she’d ever dreamed of. She clambered onto her hooves and felt her huge belly wobble under her, dragging on the flagstones of the greenhouse. It felt like she was attached to it, rather than it to her.

“Withania? Oh my stars this is something else… Are you okay?” For a moment there was a stab of doubt in her mind as she remembered that she’d literally devoured her friend alive, but Withania had seemed so calm and collected. She would know what to do next, right?

“Mmmm, Rose you’re a natural…” came the muffled voice of Withania. Rose sat down again, pressing one ear down against her belly. She could hear her thumping heart, the gurgle of her belly, and other muffled noises of Withania moving inside her. “I’m fine, Rose, well… I won’t be in a minute, but that’s the best part…”

“Are you gonna digest in there? I’m not sure this was such a good idea!”

Withania could her the slight panic in her voice as it resonated all around. She pressed her hoof up against the top of the stomach, rubbing the wall where she could feel Rose’s head pressing against it. “Don’t worry I’ll be absolutely fine, just remember this; when you see the seed, plant it in the garden. Just plant the seed and everything will take care of itself!”

Rose sighed with pleasure. Withania’s reassuring words pushed the doubt away and left a gap for the sensations to flood back in. She got back up and took a few experimental steps. Walking was difficult, but possible. She wanted to find a place to settle down for a while. Withania was quite indisposed now, and her house was empty. The thrill of just waltzing in entered her mind and she set off determinedly.

Withania lay back in the pooling liquid of Rose’s belly, wriggling and letting it seep into her coat. If she got her timing right, she might be able to get a second orgasm in here before her hooves softened up beyond use, and she wanted Rose to experience the sensation of having prey get off on being digested. She felt Rose get up and start moving, her enclosure rocking and sloshing about. Judging by the motion, she could tell that they’d left the greenhouse and gone up the step in through the back door of her house.

Heh, well… my house is your house for tonight Rose… she thought to herself.

Rose passed through the kitchen and headed for the stairs. These were a task, given she was carrying the weight of two, but her own earth pony legs were up to the job. Once on the landing, she quickly located Withania’s bedroom. It wasn’t a big house, but it had its charm, and Withania’s bed with its duvet and blankets bundled up like a nest was enticing.

“Sorry if I make a bit of a mess Withania, but this seems like a fitting place to finish this off…”

Rose climbed onto the bed, the slats creaking under the weight of her belly, and suddenly realised that she had a problem. She couldn’t reach around her belly to touch herself. For a moment she despaired, but then while attempting to reach behind her back, she felt Withania’s bulk in her belly press up against the base of her crotch between her legs. She grinned, the pleasure of discovery adding to today’s other delights. She slowly began to grind her hips against her grumbling belly, the pressure just enough to press her pussy and squeeze her vaginal walls together, and after a few seconds of finding a rhythm, she was greedily humping her huge midriff, feeling her host inside her being smushed and squashed about.

Withania had no complaints, loving the sensation of being kneaded inside a belly, and was already hard at work on her clit again. She was being tossed around as if in a laundry machine, but the perks of not having to breath meant she had no problems with this either. Knowing that Rose was getting off on digesting her down in her own bedroom and on her own bed was somehow even hotter, and she quickly got herself up to steam.

Rose panted as she steadily worked her pelvis against the quickly-softening bulk under her. She could feel the lumpy limbs of Withania become soft and malleable and felt a thrill of power play. She was breaking down the other pony, turning her into mush to be absorbed as food, and getting off on it. She held her breath and wrapped her forelegs around the smooth pudgy belly as she finally hit her orgasm, translucent fluid squirting from her dripping pussy and dripping between her legs.

“Mmmmmm, good night Withania, my sweet treat!” she murmured into her stomach as she slouched down over it.

10. One Good Turn...

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Rose awoke at some point in the early hours of the morning. Her throat was parched and felt half-blocked by something - she knew immediately that she wouldn’t be able to sleep again without getting up to fetch a drink.

Groaning, she dragged herself out of bed and immediately remembered two things: one, she had been sleeping in Withania’s bed, and two, her gut sloshed and sagged below her with the remnants of the aforementioned mare inside.

What in the name of Celestia did I do? she thought to herself, stumbling into the kitchen and drawing a cup of water. She swallowed a few mouthfuls, which relieved her parched throat, but suddenly amplified the sensation of something stuck at the bottom of her throat. Fearing that she was about to be sick, she staggered out the back door into the garden, swaying with the weight of her midriff, and let loose an almighty UUUUURRRRAAAPPPPP!

This was followed by a cough, and she felt a lump rattle up her throat and sail out onto the allotments on the wave of her belch.

“Oooh boy, I’m not used to that…” she said allowed, sitting down and panting. The worst seemed to be over, so she wobbled back into the house, drained the last of her water, and headed back to bed. Whatever bizarre scenario she’d gotten herself into, she could deal with it in the morning.

As Withania’s consciousness faded into nothing, it was reignited elsewhere. She had landed on fertile soil, uncovered, but snug and sheltered. Just like her night in the forest, she was not acutely aware of herself, but dreaming. She dreamed about being a plant. She dreamed that a sprout split out from her cosy seed and burrowed into the rich earth below, while a tendril poked out into the chilly air, orienting itself and surveying the space it was about to grow into. On her first experience, her soul was filled with apprehension and uncertainty, but this time her dreaming self knew what was happening. She could hear her garden around her in a way she’d never experienced before. She felt young, a sapling surrounded by mature plants, yet somehow those plants were watching over her as if they knew that the earth pony that poured her heart into their wellbeing had been placed in their care for the night. In the corner of the garden, an elephant in the room, the Magnus Tegmen flower ruffled its leaves in acknowledgement that one of its own was growing nearby.

It was daylight when a rapid, high-pitched sequence of noises hoisted Withania from the depths of her slumber. She felt tall and majestic, standing up over the plants that had dwarfed her mere hours ago, and her leaves soaked up the sun’s rays, feeding energy into her core to keep growing. She opened her eyes sleepily, as if surprised that she even had eyes, and found herself enclosed in the cool shelter of a flower bud, forelegs wrapped around her chest. It was mid-morning, but to Withania, she felt like she’d woken up at day-break and was still a few hours short on sleep. She flexed her leaves and flower petals as if she were stretching, and felt herself sway slightly. And then she realised that she was in fact, a plant.

Rose sat on the flagstones in Withania’s garden, gazing up at the huge flower that seemed to have sprouted and grown overnight - roughly where she’d coughed up some kind of seed or stone in the middle of the night. Her hips were looking noticeably plumper than they had been the day before, and she was still sporting a little pudge around her belly. “Withania? Are you… in there?”

The huge, pale green flower began to move of its own accord, turning slowly as the petals began to unfurl in a spiral motion. Rose has seen moving vines before, but never a flower that moved quick enough to watch. As the flower bloomed before her eyes, a terracotta mane appeared over the edge of the petals, and the unmistakable green face of Withania peered down at her.

“Oh. Hello Rose, good morning…” she said, leaning her forelegs against the edge of her flower and tilting slightly toward the pale mare with her face cupped in her hooves.

“Are… are you a plant?” asked Rose. She already knew what Withania had told her the day before, but this was quite a step above that. She could see inside the flower, and Withania’s body seemed to be lodged inside, or merged with the flower itself. The green mare appeared to be in complete control of this.

“Sort of…” said Withania thoughtfully, rubbing her petals with one hoof, “My pony body is being reformed, almost like a fruit of the flower, but you’ve caught me halfway. I have to admit I haven’t been awake at this point before…”

Truthfully, Withania felt quite at peace. Just like her dreams of regrowing, she didn’t feel the least bit in a rush. She was aware of time at a much slower pace, and seeing Rose twitching and shifting the way ponies naturally rested, her friend seemed to move almost like an insect by comparison. She was also aware that she was quite hungry, needing plenty of energy to finish growing her pony body. How easy would it be to attract Rose to her using her pollen-scent?

“Would you like a closer look?” she asked Rose, giving her a half-lidded look and adjusting the angle of one of the leaves around her stem so that it could be used as a step. Rose’s eyes widened as she got up and approached the flower. She caught the familiar sweet smell of nectar, sharp and alluring.

It’s the dominating smell, like from last week… it’ll get into my head… she thought. Part of her wanted to back away and admire from a distance - but her lustful side knew she was already ensnared the moment Withania’s perfume had caught her nose. Why fight it? It was easier, and far more pleasurable to give in and get closer. Then she could inhale deeply, and just let Withania take control of her. She would be safe, and she could continue to share the amazing abilities Withania seemed to have acquired.

She walked up to the flower and gingerly put her forelegs onto the leaf, which seemed to be incredibly strong, probably owing to its size and shape. It was adapted to supporting the oversized flower, and her body was well within its capacity. Withania leaned over with her forelegs, beckoning Rose to reach up. She was anchored to the flower, but she could already see Rose’s self-awareness being smothered under a cloudy layer of her scent. She was adapted to attract ponies in.

Rose reared up with her hind legs on the leaf, and with a pull from Withania, was hoisted up into the flower. The stem swayed under the additional weight, but impressively held firm. Happy that she wouldn’t fall, Rose’s eyes roamed around her, taking in this fantasy situation she was now in. Withania’s flower was a little cramped for two, resulting in the two of them touching one another, almost hugging. Her rump and hind legs were sitting in a pool of the golden nectar that welled up from the hollow tube of the plant’s stem. The walls of this stem rose up at one side, thickening until they became Withania’s navel. She would have been abashed to observe that the hole in the stem was effectively between where Withania’s hind legs would be, and seemed oddly like her vagina, but she was already past the point of embarrassment.

Withania wrapped her in a hug with her forelegs, raising her petals up slightly to help prevent her friend from falling out, and went straight in for a kiss, breathing more of her pollen into Rose’s mouth, as well as clashing tongues to exchange the taste of her nectar. Rose responded immediately, pressing into the kiss and inhaling the foggy air with a sigh of pleasure. The petals around them closed in a little more, holding their bodies together.

“Withania…” sighed Rose, “You taste so good… you were delicious last night, yet now I just want you to cover me with your smell and your nectar… is something wrong with me?”

“Not at all… you’re doing just fine. I’m just a little hungry you see? And you’re quite plump this morning… I think you’ll enjoy this, and I’ll have you right as rain before tomorrow’s done, so don’t you worry…”

“Mmmm, my legs are a little cramped…” complained Rose, frowning slightly as she squirmed in Withania’s embrace. Withania stroked her mane with one hoof, and with the other she directed her friend’s hind legs to the opening of her stem.

“That’s okay, Rose, just stretch them out into my stem, and I’ll hold you up…” she said. She flexed her petals, almost closing her flower, and pressing their bodies together so that Rose slipped into her opening. It felt wonderful, her instincts lit up as her body began to respond to her catch. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing, yet somehow all of this felt natural - the pony in her clutches was entering a state of bliss, and she knew she could do even more for Rose while benefiting herself as well. She licked her lips, cupped Rose’s muzzle with her hooves, and kissed her again. This time she felt the nectar inside her welling up in her mouth, and gently fed it to Rose.

Rose was distracted by the sinking sensation of her hind legs slipping into Withania’s stem up to her thighs, and when she was suddenly met by a rather wet, but very sweet-tasting kiss. She couldn’t help but swallow the sugary liquid she was being fed. Her pussy was submerged into the pool of nectar inside the stem and there was pressure building there, pressure from her own loins aching for attention, but greater pressure from below, pushing the nectar into her passage, forcing her folds open and flooding her with the same golden soup.

Withania closed her petals fully, wrapping them in a soft cocoon that shaded their coupling, and let Rose rest for a moment. She didn’t want to overwhelm her catch, she wanted her to enjoy this, to go willingly - although of course, no pony would possibly have the willpower to resist her scent and her taste. But the illusion of free will would make this all the sweeter for Rose. Let her walk into this daydream, even though she was powerless to leave until Withania saw fit now. Her stem felt a little stretched, but now her nectar was flowing freely, she felt like she could stretch a little more and take in Rose’s hips.

Rose gazed up at the kind face of Withania bearing over her, and stretched up to kiss her again, to get another mouthful of the delicious liquid surrounding her - which Withania was happy to oblige. Her hooves stroked the soft petals enclosing her, feeling their silky texture and how they transitioned perfectly into Withania’s navel before her. Withania seemed to be enjoying her touch, and pleasing Withania seemed to be the right thing to do at present, so she stroked, and kneaded, and massaged everything around her. The pressure under her shifted slightly, and she felt her hips descend into the opening of the stem, squelching slightly as the seal moved up her body. She wasn’t sure where this was leading, but everything felt so wonderful that she didn’t care.

Kiss the plant pony. Caress her body. Hug her torso. Receive nectar.

“Good girl, Rose, keep drinking now, we’ll make you nice and soft…”

The nectar flooding her pussy was spilling into her womb now, filling her up with a swirling vortex that soaked and seeped into her flesh. The tips of her hind hooves felt strange, as if they had turned to putty and pressed into one another. A pulling sensation seemed to want to stretch her deeper down into the stem, but the bulk of her body was too large to fit. Rose was too focused on Withania to mind. She was being filled down below like nothing she’d ever experienced, and above board, Withania was doting on her like a mother, feeding her and gently lathering the nectar into her fur and mane alike. It was everywhere, the whole flower was full up to Rose’s chest now. And Rose wanted more. Being submerged in the stuff was like a tingling shampoo stimulating every part of her, inside and out.

Withania gently directed Rose’s forelegs to her sides, and tugged on her hind legs with another contracting wave of her stem, pulling her catch deeper inside. Now Rose couldn’t feel her up, but Withania was getting more than enough stimulation by filling this mare up with nectar at both ends, and tasting the essence of her starting to dissolve. She’d already taken Rose’s hind hooves, which were now goop being sucked down her stem to be redistributed through her plant-flesh, and she was in the process of gently sucking on her thighs and hips like nougat.

Rose rubbed her face against Withania’s navel in a vague attempt to convey her enjoyment, but was too fuddled to speak. Her hind legs felt squashed and stretched, as if she’d become very long. She couldn’t move them, but had a vague sensation of being pulled down to the very base of Withania’s stem, and even under the surface of the soil. The nectar in her belly and her womb tingled delightfully and kept her on the very edge of climax, aching for just a little more to tip her over the precipice. She moaned against Withania, her mouth forming words, but closing again to take another gulp of nectar that was being fed to her.

Emboldened by how well this was going, and feeling more energised by the nutrients she was absorbing from her catch, Withania shuffled her leaves and stretched her stem again to pull in more of Rose’s body until she was up to her chest. The mare was drenched in nectar now, glistening in the sweet liquid that was bringing her so much pleasure at the same time as dissolving her body for Withania to drink up. Withania squeezed the neck of her flower, forcing the nectar below to build up inside Rose’s womb and vagina. At last, Rose moaned in ecstasy as she came. The milky fluids leaking from her were quickly wicked down Withania’s stem as the plant-hybrid drank up her food. Now Rose had hit her peak, Withania was free to finish devouring her.

The white mare felt her hips being pulled deep down into the depths of the plant she had been swallowed up by. The feeling was otherworldly, no pain, just pleasure, she was being dissolved in the liquid around her, and her softened body stretched thin and gulped down. As her head descended into the pool of nectar at the bottom of the flower, she felt Withania’s hoof tussle her drenched mane, and then press her muzzle against the rim of the stem, which had become soft and fleshy, as if it were the folds of her own pussy. Rose obeyed and licked, sucking and massaging her mistress with her mouth as best she could until finally, she needed to come up for air.

But her shoulders were trapped in the stem now, and Withania would not release her. She glanced up through the cloudy golden fluid at the blur of green and autumn looking down at her, and then Withania’s hoof pushed her head down into the stem. She wondered how she would possibly fit, but her body had turned to goop, and Withania’s hollow stem was sucking her down like a straw. Her vision became more and more cloudy until she could no longer see anything, but she could feel the tingling of her melted self spreading through Withania’s plant-body, being processed into sugars and nutrients.

Withania moaned to herself as the opening of her stem closed over the top of Rose’s head. She felt wonderfully content. If she wanted to, she could just stay this way. Grow bigger, attract more ponies in to sustain her size, maybe try to grow additional flowers…

She swallowed, clearing her mouth of nectar and blinking her eyes. I'm still a pony, she remembered, And I need to finish growing my body back…

The shape of her familiar hips was visible to her now, forming out from the centre of her flower. She would sleep for another hour or so, and then she could detach from her plant again, with Rose as part of her pony body and ready to be reformed into a seed.

I'm sure she won't mind waiting… Withania thought, hugging herself with her petal cocoon.

11. Back To Her Roots

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Withania’s time spent with Roseluck had been an indulgence to last all month. For the first time since her initial transformation, Withania was feeling at home in her strange plant-body. She felt in control of herself, and she felt safe knowing that none of her adventures were causing long-term harm now.

It was barely a fortnight after turning into a huge pony-eating-plant that Withania was answering her front door as if nothing had happened. A young doe with a green neckerchief stood expectantly outside.

“Epoch!” cried Withania, her face lighting up at the sight of her old friend. “You should’ve said you were in town! Come in, how are you? Would you like some tea?”

Epoch had stayed with Withania in the past, visiting from the deer kingdom of Thickett. She had a passion for people, and visiting the ponies beyond the woods had brought her to Withania. One more memorable evening, their discussion on nature and the balance of the world had turned to animals. And then to predators. And then to fantasies about predation.

“I’ve been fine, thanks!” said Epoch, following Withania through to the kitchen. “I’ve been busy with studies back home, but I finally got granted time away again, so of course I wanted to come and see you!”

“Perfect… we can have a proper catch up then! I’ve… Well, I’ve certainly gone through a lot since we last spoke,” replied Withania, pausing as she prepared a pot of tea. Epoch watched her, noting her pause.

“Anything, ah, anything to do with… What we did on that last evening before I left?”

When I talked you into letting me eat you, thought Withania, glancing back at the doe. Neither of them had regrets, it had been a wonderful first-time experience for them both. Yet it also felt so long ago to Withania now. She had gone so far beyond that night now that she almost felt sheepish about their adventure together.

“You could say that. Would you like to see my massive pony-eating flower?” she said with a wink that indicated an equal amount of humour and dead-seriousness. Epoch’s face spoke volumes to this statement, so leaving the tea to cool off, Withania guided her to the back corner of the garden, where the immense structure of the Magnus Tegmen towered over everything else around it.

“And you’re now a walking plant?” said Epoch incredulously, as Withania explained her tail one more time. “You must come with me to Thickett! They wouldn’t believe me if I told them a pony had managed to join with nature like this!”

“Well, we’ll see about that,” continued Withania, walking Epoch back to the kitchen again to their waiting tea. “I’m sorta still working all of this out. Every time I try, ah, playing around, my body seems to do something I didn’t know it could do. Everything keeps working out, but it’s probably best that I stay here in my garden where it’s all contained. Princess Twilight has bailed me out once already. And her price for that was to get experimented on. She’s remarkably blasé about this sort of thing.”

“Huh. How about that then. You ponies get all the fun! Thickett is really uptight, I haven’t had the nerve to tell anyone about… That night we had together.”

“You mean the one where I ate you?” said Withania, looking over her mug at Epoch with a half-lidded stare. She giggled at Epoch’s blush. “It was pretty amazing! I uh, didn’t realise I might be partial to being a predator until that night. Seems like I dabble in both sides of the fence equally now!”

“Maybe we could try it again while I’m around,” Epoch mumbled into her mug.

Withania couldn’t help but grin to herself. She was getting used to this lifestyle. A little doe like Epoch would be easy for her - but she wanted something different this time. Something other than a simple swallow.

“Are we- in that zone where we’re okay about talking about sex?” asked Withania cautiously. It was an honest question. Both of them were hopelessly meek at worst, but knew each other quite well enough by now to be able to talk frankly.

“I would like to be in that zone. I feel like I can trust you Withania, that night was amazing and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head ever since. I… I want to do it again.”

Withania sipped her tea and put her mug down, steepling her hooves. “We can absolutely do that. I think we should hit the town for some supplies, and then we won’t have to go out again for a day or more. Also cider, we need cider.”

Epoch nodded with a determined pout, and the two of them drained the tea in agreement.

They caught up on small talk as they went shopping, mostly Epoch talking about her home and her studies. The deer focused heavily on balance and nature and trees and balance and the forest - which Epoch was somewhat drafted into in as an acolyte, but the ponies of Equestria were more interesting to her in general. The subject stuck in Withania’s mind as they chatted the afternoon away. She was still mindful of the advice she’d gotten from Zecora back at the start of her crazy journey, and she wondered if she should be taking her own sense of balance more seriously. Maybe she was disrespecting the Tegmen flower she’d dutifully created.

“And the stamen were like tentacles coming out of your mouth?” said Epoch, sipping on tea. Withania’s living room was lit by the lamps now, and the pony had been talking about her intimate encounter with the Tegmen. She was blushing at the cheeks from the drink. Epoch was less of a drinker but seemed quite content for Withania to loosen up. “That sounds hot. I really want to try weird stuff… like I know you eating me was already weird, but also sex.”

“It was pretty amazing,” confirmed Withania. “I mean… I guess it also did this to me, so I’m not sure how amazing it really was, but hey I seem to be doing okay. Just gotta make sure I get my daily dose of best princess, and bam, good for the day. Don’t even breathe anymore.”

Epoch leaned in close to look at the green insides of Withania’s mouth as she spoke, before overbalancing slightly and steadying herself against Withania’s thigh. They both fell silent in the moment - not sure if a drink was about to be spilt - and caught each other’s eyes.

Withania leaned down and kissed Epoch. Just a peck on the lips, but enough for Epoch to blush like a reindeer. Epoch put down her teacup, wobbling slightly from nervousness, and sat upright to kiss Withania back, who put one foreleg around the doe’s back to embrace her.

“Let’s take this upstairs…” whispered Withania, shuffling back onto her hooves and tugging at Epoch’s hoof. The doe nodded eagerly and followed Withania up the rickety stairs and into her small bedroom. Withania rolled onto her single bed, laying to one side and gesturing to the small size of the room. “What do you think?”

“I think the size of the room won’t matter when I’m inside you…” blurted out Epoch, mounting the bed to kiss Withania again. The pony’s lips and tongue carried a sweet taste that sunk into Epoch’s senses, aiding the alcohol in dulling her nerves and coaxing her on. She practically pushed Withania back onto the pillow, so that her hind legs fell open to expose her green folds twinkling with her golden nectar. “You said your stomach is full of this stuff, right?” she whispered hoarsely, “What about your… pussy?”

“It’s thicker, and I feel like I can stretch easier now…” replied Withania between kisses, “But I don’t have any toys…”

She’d barely finished her sentence before Epoch scooched her pert rump down the bed so that her snout was between Withania’s curved thighs, and spread the green petals apart with her tongue. Withania squeaked in surprise, and Epoch took this as a sign to continue, lapping up the almost honey-like substance around Withania’s nethers. Her legs stretched open a little further, and with almost no effort at all, Epoch had pushed her nose and mouth between the pony’s velvet folds, moaning in delight.

Withania felt slightly guilty about not being able to help Epoch from her current position, but she pushed the thought aside as without warning Epoch pushed again and her entire head slipped inside of Withania, her exposed clit rubbing down the back of her friend’s neck.

“E- Epoch!” she stuttered, “Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?”

Epoch moaned again, her voice muffled, but her tone clearly the opposite of distress. Withania wasn’t quite sure what she was trying to achieve, but instinctively flexed her vaginal muscles - and combined with Epoch’s twists and wriggles, managed to draw the doe further inside of herself up to Epoch’s chest. The feeling overwhelmed her senses, Withania pressed her head into the pillow, eyes closed, feeling so full, and knowing that unless one of them stopped now, Epoch was going all the way inside her like this. Neither of them stopped. Withania forced herself to sit up, and placed her hooves on Epoch’s hips to give them a good push, timing her efforts with both her clenches and Epoch pushing forward from her hind legs.

The doe’s head was inside her womb, and just like her stomach could, Withania felt her womb stretching in a way she didn’t think was possible, her cervix forming a check-valve that prevented Epoch from moving backwards. She was only going one way now, and that was up to her hips into Withania’s stretched flower. She was excreting the slick nectar all over the doe’s fur coat, making the process as smooth as it was pleasurable. With another shove, Epoch’s narrower hips slipped into the impossible depths of Withania’s body, adding to the huge bulge swelling up from her abdomen. Withania nearly passed out as she felt Epoch twist and turn around inside her, curling up as she tucked her legs in behind herself. Withania’s cervix shut behind her prey, and with a squirt of excess fluids, Withania fell onto her back again as she climaxed.

“Withania?” came the muffled voice of Epoch from the deer-sized bulge under Withania’s forelegs.

“I’m here Epoch, that… this is amazing… are you okay?”

Withania’s voice reverberated around Epoch. She was curled up tight inside the soft cell of Withania’s womb, coated entirely with the sweet syrup that had lubricated her entry. It clung to her like sap, binding her limbs together. She was far from uncomfortable, however, the gentle movements of Withania were like a leaf on a pond, while the warmth and caress of her body added to the sense of safety and intimacy between them.

“I’ve never been better… not much space to talk, it’s- it’s filling up with your nectar stuff in here, but it’s wonderful…”

“Just drink up, Epoch, trust me, I’ll take good care of you…”

Withania stroked her rounded tum fondly, feeling out the shape of Epoch inside while she still could. It felt different to when she swallowed a pony, as if rather than dissolve her prey, her womb was soaking up the doe, absorbing her directly. She gently pressed and kneaded her friend’s body, marvelling as she began to soften like jelly, still twitching in the grip of the nectar, but more from pleasure than entrapment.

Epoch felt stuffed herself, as the overwhelming amount of thick nectar oozing around her filled every orifice of her body - she couldn’t breathe, despite Withania saying her other prey had been able to in her stomach. But despite her lungs being stuck fast she was able to stay awake, suspended like an insect in amber, but an amber that was melting her into gel.

Within an hour, Withania couldn’t find any sign of Epoch at all in the soft gurgling mound of her belly. She still felt incredibly full, not so much of food, but as if she had been inflated. The viscous syrup in her womb was steadily passing through the walls and into her flesh, filling and padding her lower body like hot sauce into an icing funnel.

It was also exhausting, and between digesting her friend into her fluids and her own climax, Withania fell asleep, starfished out, alone on the bed while Epoch was filtered through her body and distributed evenly across her hips.

12. The Captive

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Epoch was stirred into awareness by an intermittent motion all over her body. I must be dreaming, she thought, unable to see or hear or move of her own accord. Yet she was trapped, neither falling back into the sleep-walk of her dream nor open her eyes. The movement resumed again, a steady massage of her body being squeezed and stretched. But it wasn’t her body - she had no limbs to speak off, she was simply a mass of some kind with a centre of self but a body that was distributed and faded away at distance. Withania? she tried to speak, but was voiceless. Her thoughts were smothered by her soft and plush environment - the environment that she was a part of. She felt like she was wrapped up in a duvet, only she was the duvet, like a pillow that was being sat on, and then puffing back up when relieved of weight. She might’ve panicked, but the motion applied to her was both soothing and stimulating in equal measure. She didn’t know what was happening, but she didn’t want it to stop. She was warm and comfortable while a calm and relaxed haze seeped into her from all sides. She couldn’t explain why, but the presence felt like Withania. Her memories swam around her foggy mind, remembering the feeling of being curled up inside Withania’s womb while her body was kneaded into jelly before her very eyes. She’d never felt anything so arousing. What had happened next? She had been broken down then absorbed and now… Am I part of her body?

Withania put down her watering can and sat down again, feeling her enlarged rump compress under her weight and running one hoof over the soft plush padding on her cutie mark. Her already well-built earth pony hips now had a delightful round curvature to them, and while there was a noticeable curve of pudge about her belly, it seemed that Epoch had gone to all the right places on her body. She felt heavier in her step, but delighted in the slight shake of her chunkier body as she carried out her morning chores. She’d enjoyed the extra weight that she put on after eating somepony a few times now - but this was different. There was a tingle in her fresh chub, a warm glow that she couldn’t help but touch and press. Every time she walked and her hips moved back and forth, when she crouched or stretched, every time her chubby hips moved she could feel the faint presence of another pony locked up within her. Epoch was now a layer of fat on her flanks, and the experience was constant stimulation to Withania. She could only assume that the same was true for Epoch, as the warm glow that spread through her body every time she sat down on her plush rear felt foreign, like someone caressing her with a hot towel, except the heat came from within. She’d already taken twice as long as usual to water the garden this morning, constantly pausing to wriggle her butt or press her hoof into her stretched cutie marks, however, she couldn’t help herself any more and stole into the kitchen like a guilty filly.

“Ooooooh Epoch,” she moaned, sitting back on her ass with her hind legs stretched out like a cat, “We already knew you looked good on my thighs from last time, but Celestia you feel divine today!” She ran her hoof lovingly up the inside of her soft thigh, massaging the extra padding from her hock back to the edge of her nethers, feeling the feedback from the doe trapped within. Was Epoch aware of what was happening? Withania had dim memories of being part of another’s body. It had been a dream-like state, not awake or truely aware, but there was a strong sense of emotion and stimulation. If it felt this good to Withania, Epoch must have been in a seventh heaven. “It’ll almost be a pity when you get turned into a seed, I could get used to this…” She leaned back on her forelegs and closed her hips together, feeling her chub compress and squeeze against her pussy, spreading the enticing warmth of another’s pleasure through her entire body. Her eyes scanned the kitchen for ideas - and landed on the utensils next to the stove. A wooden rolling pin hung from a string tie. Oversized really, it was unwieldy and better for bread - which she seldom baked - than pastry for pies and quiche. She could probably sit on it.

With idea came action, and she waved her legs around to roll onto her front and get up off of the kitchen floor, thankful that no one was around to see her wallowing in her own lewd self-pleasure. Epoch didn’t count, she decided, as the doe was both party to this scene and also quite unable to witness it while also being literal chub on Withania’s ass.

Epoch had no sense of time in her current condition. She found that while Withania was moving around she felt more awake, or at least as awake as this strange reverie could get, and when Withania was still, her mind slowly drifted back into slumber. The new sensations from Withania playing with her voluptuous thighs were certainly keeping Epoch up, and then a sudden bout of erratic movement suggested that something new was at hoof. Epoch felt a lustrous stretch of Withania extending her hind legs and reaching for something, and then Epoch felt a strange tension, a slow and gradual compression as Withania crouched her hind legs slightly. This was followed by a distinct pinch at the very edge of where Epoch could feel.

Did we sit on something? It doesn’t feel like anything flat. Could it be the edge of a se-aaHHHH!

Epoch’s fuddled train of thought was interrupted as the compression at one end began to roll across her form, creating a wave of pleasure the travelled from one end of her to the other. If the simple act of Withania sitting down on her had been stimulating, the sensation of her host sitting on the rolling pin and scooting back and forth was enough to turn her senses into mush.

Withania closed her eyes and her mouth was ajar as she kneaded her plush behind with the rolling pin. The compress and release wave moving up and down her rump was setting her kinesthesia ablaze, and when she get the angle just right, the smooth surface of the rolling pin gave her peeping clit the slightest of brushes. Like a spark to tinder, she pressed down for all she was worth, grinding her pudge between the utensil and her strong earth pony muscles in the core of her thighs. Her own stimulation was amplified by Epoch, giving rise to a climax that built faster than anything she’d ever felt. Maybe it was the fact that she’d been teasing herself and Epoch all morning contributing to this, either way, a shiny and slick coating was appearing in the centre of the rolling pin, that spread and smeared across the back of Withania’s hind legs.

Epoch was lost in a sea of hormones, not so much feeling a building orgasm but being the building orgasm. She egged Withania on as her own sense of self was pummeled and squeezed, pressing against Withania’s marehood and teasing it into releasing the energy rapidly building up in the two of them.

Withania wanted nothing more than to plunge a forehoof between her pudgy thighs and go to town on herself - however, it took both her forelegs to balance on the rolling pin. Despite her handicap, it almost felt like Epoch was contributing. Without any assistance of her hooves, Withania could feel the heat of whatever part of Epoch was inside of her blazing away to match the most rowdy of mare toys. As Withania rolled back one more time, she let out a shriek of pleasure and the rolling pin squeezed a jet of gooey nectar out of her nethers, splattering the inside of her thighs and the floor alike.

She let her forelegs slide out to either side until she was laying on her back, the rolling pin now twisted in line with her hind legs and nestled between her thighs - utterly spent. The dim consciousness of Epoch inside of her had gone fuzzy. The doe was not absent, but no longer of any rational thought. The idea of this put a greedy smile on Withania’s face. The doe was hers now, completely under her command, bound to her very body to serve her. If all Epoch could think about now was Withania pleasuring herself, and if that would addle her mind entirely, that would be a gift. Greedy thoughts of keeping Epoch all to herself circled in Withania’s head as she closed her eyes and dozed in a post-coital bliss. Just a quick nap, then she’d be back to work.

By the next day, the novelty had diminished somewhat. Not that the tingle had vanished entirely, but Withania was a functional adult again without suddenly stealing away into privacy to touch herself, and by extension, Epoch. She wiggled her rump while brushing her teeth in front of the bathroom mirror.

“H’mm, no seed. I expected you to be out by now, Epoch,” she said with her mouthful. Not that she was complaining, even though she was starting to burn off her extra chub - at a completely unrealistic speed as she had done with Twilight - she could still sense Epoch’s essence trapped on her body, aware, but in stasis. Was this a problem? No, she thought to herself, Epoch went into this willingly. She belongs to me now, and I’m giving her the time of her life. She’s lucky! Withania rinsed her toothbrush under the tap and walked out the bathroom, her tail flicking her cutie mark playfully.

She spent the day in her greenhouse tending to her crop, and with her sun-mirror angled so she could keep stealing glances at her own behind. The warming pulse seemed far less noticeable, or perhaps she’d grown accustomed to it, but the same sly smile stared back at her as she imagined her friend compressed into her hip, helplessly aroused by their prison, at Withania’s mercy. Having spent her life as an uninteresting and ordinary earth pony, and then thinking herself to be submissive in her newer interests, Withania felt like a true predator. A carnivorous flower, beautiful, gentle, but deadly. She could probably release Epoch whenever she wanted - but why bother? The doe was doubtlessly happy in her current state, who wouldn’t be?

Another day passed and Withania sighed while brushing her mane. She’d grown used to Epoch’s company much quicker than she’d like - it suddenly felt ordinary. Eating a pony and turning them into a seed to regrow was a day of fun, absorbing Epoch had lasted longer, and she still didn’t feel the familiar pressure of a seed forming inside her. Clearly she needed new prey to get her mojo back… company for Epoch. Would the rush be exactly the same, or even greater than before? Who could she convince to bed with her?

Roseluck would almost certainly be up for it. The flower shop mare was already in on her games, and had seen Withania at her strangest. Also, the other flower shop girls could cover for Roseluck - like Epoch, no one would immediately notice her absence. Hi Roseluck, Withania said in her mind as she continued to stroke her mane into its wild shape, Would you like to experience unbridled sexual bliss by entering my womb, being melted into my special nectar, and turned into pudge on my beautiful flanks? You’ll be mine for as long as I see fit, pressed and squeezed every time I sit down, and it will be more pleasure than anything you can imagine… Just give yourself to me forever…

A sudden bang from outside shook Withania out of her reverie - she blinked and then frowned. Putting down the brush she reached up to the bathroom window and looked out over her garden. The gate hadn’t been closed properly. A gust of wind had caught it and just the right angle and it had swung open and banged into the fence. Nothing at all really, but she ought to go and close it to keep wild animals out of the garden.

What had she been thinking about? What day was it?

I ate… or absorbed? I devoured Epoch two days ago - why hasn’t she formed a seed?

Withania suddenly remembered her train of thought about Roseluck. What in Equestria had she been thinking? Epoch didn’t sign up for being trapped on her body for however long she felt like. And now she was thinking of adding Roseluck into the party without so much as a fig for what Epoch might want if she were able to make an informed decision right now!

“Epoch?” Withania said, looking into the mirror again. “I think you should come out now… I think this might’ve been a bad idea…”

There was no response, of course. But the garden gate was open. She trotted downstairs to go and fix it.

Today she needed to go into town for a few deliveries and collections, nothing that didn’t fit in her saddlebags. Yesterday she’d envisioned that this would be more empowering, as if other ponies would know that Epoch was there on her enlarged thighs - but now she was confused. It didn’t seem as fun now she realised that she didn’t really know what she was doing. She couldn’t even bear to visit the flower shop after having such greedy thoughts about Roseluck. She kept a calm mind, however, and carried out her chores in town followed by a session with her bonsai trees. Everything had worked out so far, and if things didn’t improve tomorrow she’d contact Twilight for help.

When she glanced at the greenhouse clock and realised the sun was setting, her throat was parched - she’d barely drunk all day in her anxiety. Not patient enough for the kettle, or in the mood for being ladylike, Withania walked outside and picked up the garden hose, guzzling the crisp water from the nozzle. Guilty pleasure or not, it felt good when she did this. The water sloshed into the nectar in her belly and she could pretend she was a balloon being filled up. Maybe at some point she’d be brave enough to see how far she could go…

And then a tingle in her nethers broke her lewd imagination once again. Is that… I didn’t feel it coming at all!

Dropping the hose and perching on the bucket next to the water pipe, Withania grimaced for a moment, the pressure inside her building out of nowhere and moving from deep within down to her nethers. With very little work on her part, a wooden thud and a great feeling of relief signalled that her body was done. She turned and sure enough a sticky seed was left, ready to plant.

13. On The Bridge

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Withania made her goodbyes to Epoch at the edge of the Everfree forest. The doe would be walking further around the edge to find another road through to the far side and home, while Withania had a shorter journey to make.

“Sorry again about using up your entire trip!” Withania repeated, bowing her head guiltily, “I didn’t realise it could take so long to regrow somepony!”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine!” said Epoch, “I’ll have another chance to come and visit! And plus, that whole experience was… just, wow. If we could do that again without it taking three days…”

Withania had not mentioned her moment of possessive mania to Epoch. The doe had awakened in Withania’s garden none the worse for wear, and with little sense of how much time had passed. The ride had been extremely enjoyable, and Withania didn’t want to spoil the memory by mentioning how close Epoch had been to indefinite entrapment - or perhaps she felt too guilty to own up to it. Either way, once again a potentially perilous situation had righted itself in the nick of time. She also didn’t want to send Epoch away, yet Withania was almost grateful that she could now take the time to think over what had happened, rather than have to pretend that she’d been fully in control for another day or so. She managed to fake a happy smile as she waved goodbye to Epoch and watched the doe trot away up the path.

Withania back-tracked a little way and followed the main path into the forest. She needed to pay a visit to Zecora for common supplies anyway, but after these events she felt like she needed some more wisdom. She would probably write to Princess Twilight as well, but somehow Withania felt that Zecora would be more level-headed. Twilight seemed like the kind of pony to forge ahead and fix any mishaps afterwards - a luxury that the Element of Magic could afford, but Withania could not. It was time to talk about a real cure for her status. Zecora’s magic was much closer to the earth pony magic that Withania felt inside herself - a passive magic that was channeled through action and method, rather than the more direct zap of a unicorn horn.

Yet as Withania trotted down the worn track that could barely be called a path, she couldn’t help but remember the incident with the Timber Wolf the last time she had come this way. Without her present abilities and nature, she would not have survived so easily. She might not have survived at all.

“That’s a lotta ‘what ifs,’ Withania,” she said aloud to herself as she continued determinedly on, “Maybe this whole situation would be a lot easier if I just stopped eating ponies!”

But that was like expecting a Venus not to catch and feed on insects, she thought. The Tegmen plant was evolved to lure in prey and form a relationship with them - an evolution that was now entwined in her own nature. Was she even making the conscious decision to eat others? Was it her choice at all, or just instinct? The Tegmen didn’t hurt its prey, and so far neither had she. But no-harm-no-foul was not an excuse. No, enough was enough, she was better off not leaving it to either temptation or nature. Arriving at the brightly decorated hut of Zecora, she knocked twice and sat back on her now diminished - although normal-sized by any account - rump.

Zecora’s enigmatic, but always friendly face appeared in the doorway. “Withania you have returned! I wonder how much about yourself you have now learned?” she asked, stepping aside to allow Withania over the threshold.

“Well, I mainly came to buy some more of your Sweet ‘n Sour Solution, it’s that time of the year and it helps my garden a lot,” Withania explained. This was a half-truth, she regularly came to Zecora to buy or sell supplies, but both ponies knew that this was merely an alibi for this visit.

“My Sweet ‘n Sour Solution removes pH pollution,” said the zebra, walking over to a cupboard and rummaging through her stock of reagents, “But if my knowledge is right, wouldn’t your garden prefer a slightly acidic bite?”

“That’s correct, but the fast-grow formulas I’ve been testing bring the acidity up too high - I’ve found that your potions counteract it perfectly so the soil stays just right.”

Zecora raised her eyebrows, clearly surprised by Withania’s resourcefulness. She gathered up a few more bottles of additives, and began to mix everything up in a small cauldron on her work bench.

“So uh, has Princess Twilight said anything to you?” Withania asked tentatively, “About me, that is…”

A knowing smile curled the corners of Zecora’s mouth. “What would it matter if she did? Your own perspective I would find much more candid.”

Withania pouted. “Well I feel completely out of control right now. And just as I feel like I’ve settled out, and maybe I’m even getting used to… all of this,” she said, gesturing to her green mouth, “I then go and do something I didn’t mean to, and that goes much further than the pony I’m with agreed to. And yes, before you say it, everything does seem to work out each time - but that doesn’t make it ok.”

The zebra did not reply immediately, stirring the concoction with both hooves on a ladle in a slow and steady motion. It was moments like these that made Withania wonder if Zecora paused for dramatic effect, or for the amount of time she needed to come up with another rhyme.

“Your breath was previously quite intense, but it seems you now have control of that powerful incense.”

Withania self-consciously inhaled slightly through her nose. Her body no longer breathed of its own accord, but just as when reminded of blinking, she moved her diaphragm experimentally. Somehow she knew that her breath was much more toned down - after all, she had to exhale in order to speak. “I’m not sure how that happened… I think my body goes into certain phases, like a plant budding or flowering. I get the feeling that I can control that, but I’ve no idea how, it’s like moving a muscle you didn’t know you had. I just seem to do it when I need to.”

“That sounds an awful lot like progress,” said Zecora, “if your more troublesome traits you can now suppress.”

“I get where you’re coming from, but I really think it would be better to go back to being an earth pony,” said Withania, studying her foreleg and the plant-fibre it was formed of. At a glance the average pony couldn’t tell, but Withania could see it as clearly as night and day. “I have ideas about how it might be possible, but I think what I really need first is something to… suppress myself. Maybe something to keep my uh… libido down? I think that would probably help.”

“I have spoken much to Twilight Sparkle regarding this whole debacle. Between us we have uncovered a great deal about earth pony magic in ways that would avert situations quite tragic…”

“That’s great!” exclaimed Withania, her eyes lighting up. But something about the way Zecora wasn’t delving into details, as well as the fact that she hadn’t told Withania this right away, implied that she still felt that Withania was rushing for answers. “Well, I think it’s for the best anyway. I’m sure Twilight finds this all very fascinating, but I’d prefer not to be the test subject.”

“I can respect that my dear, I would not ask you to endure that which you fear. But if you liken this to an illness, I think that of your own accord you will have recovered before any pony-made cure is discovered.” Zecora spooned the concoction into a wide-necked bottle, moving in easy and practised motions that didn’t spill or dribble even a drop. She held out the bottle, and as Withania took it in her hooves, Zecora leaned in and plucked something out of her mane in a single swift movement.

“Ack!” exclaimed Withania, not in pain, but surprise. Zecora had taken a stray tendril of green from Withania’s terracotta mane. A leftover from Withania’s last regrowth that had escaped the hair brush. Next, the zebra picked up a conical flask from the shelf containing a clear liquid of some kind and threaded the tendril through the neck. The liquid began to turn the same green colour, spreading out like paint into water until nothing else could be seen.

“Zebra magic lies in potions, unicorns in arcane notions. Earth pony magic is hard to measure, but often born of pleasure.”

“In my defence-” began Withania, holding up one hoof.

“Pleasure for their craft,” continued Zecora, with a sly smile, “As I say, it is difficult to measure. But you are a walking example, and we can observe your changes with every sample. Bring this to Twilight.

“Huh. All right then…” said Withania, looking doubtfully at the flask as she added it to the carry pouch she had brought with her. “Thanks, by the way. I do appreciate your help - it just feels like I’m more worried about this than anyone else.”

“Earth pony magic always works within your own alignments, Withania. Your love created the Tegmen flower. It uses that as the source of its power. That is all that lies within you.”

As kind as this sentiment was, it didn’t feel inline with the temptation Withania had faced yesterday. But she couldn’t bring herself to say this to Zecora. It wouldn’t matter soon anyway, if Twilight really had been working on a cure. “Thank you, Zecora. I’ll be around soon as usual,” she said, opening the door to the hut. “Don’t forget to let me know what you need in supplies this month so I can repay you.”

“Withania,” replied Zecora, “Monstrous is something you do, not something you are. Remember that.”

***

Withania marched toward town, straight as an arrow. At least she had a legitimate excuse to bother Twilight again. The Princess could fix anything, but Withania was pained to bother her with the problems of a Ponyville botanist when she was more accustomed to dealing with saving Equestria.

Or should she march straight up to the castle without writing first? Was there even a protocol for this? Withania stopped on the southern bridge that seperated Ponyville proper from the fields surrounding it. She leaned on the railings and peered down into the river, and then quickly shifted her weight back to her hind legs as the wooden rail creaked in protest. She kept rushing off to other ponies like Zecora and now Twilight to fix her own problems, perhaps she should just go home for now and cool off. Clear her mind, write to Twilight and send the sample that Zecora had plucked in the post, let the Princess of Friendship respond as and when she had the time.

“Cloudy! Hurry up, don’t lag behind!” came a voice behind Withania. She glanced to her left over the bridge and saw a young colt clatter onto the rickety beams and jump up onto the railings with his hind legs on the lower beam and forelegs grappling the higher. She winced, but surprisingly the much neglected wood held up.

“I’m not lagging behind!” he called back to his mother, “I just wanna look in the river, I saw a squid!”

“Squid live in the ocean honey,” called the mother warily from down the road, “Hurry up!”

Withania went back to her brooding. I should never have grown that stupid giant Tegmen, she thought to herself. She felt uncomfortable for having said it, but also like it was a thought she needed to voice. Regret was a useless notion. A scant few weeks ago she’d been a normal earth pony, albeit one messing around with magical potions that allowed her to feed herself to other ponies and creatures. No, she thought, This was bound to happen sooner or later. It wasn’t about the flower, it was me taking everything too far. I should’ve just bought a vibrator like a normal mare.

She instinctively turned her head to face the bright lunchtime-sun with her eyes closed. The warmth and energy felt good, as if it were burning away her sour mood. Just more confusion. Pleasure, hassle, pleasure, turmoil - Zecora had been right from day one when she had told Withania to seek balance. However, Withania had no one to look to, no example to follow and no idea what insane ability her body would pull next.

Her ruminations were interrupted by a loud crack of wood as the rail the colt at the end of the bridge was standing on gave way. Withania turned and saw the colt fall onto his back with a thud that Withania felt shake the bridge.

“Are you alright?” she called out, rushing over to pick him up. He didn’t appear injured - young pegasus colts were tough, used to taking a fall while they found their wings. There was a clatter of hooves as the mother began to make haste back to the bridge. The colt stuttered, looking about ready to burst into tears. “It’s okay!” said Withania brightly, quickly changing her tone to try and avert a meltdown. “No broken bones!”

“Cloudy!” shrieked the mother, skidding up to the edge of the bridge.

“He’s okay! Just a bump on the rump I’d say!” said Withania, scooping up the young pegasus under her foreleg and carrying him to the end of the bridge.

“Oh honey,” she said, fussing over the colt, “What have I told you about climbing on things! We’ll have to call into town hall and report the damage!”

“I doubt they’ll care,” said Withania, picking up the splintered hoofrail, “I’ll just break this clean so there’s no sharp bits. They should replace the bridge really.”

She grasped the remaining part of the beam and gave it a firm pull, aiming to pull the nails out - no hoofrail was safer than one that might skewer somepony. The nails screamed as they were unceremoniously torn out, forcing Withania to use her mouth for extra pull and put her weight into it. With a final scream, the beam came free and Withania stumbled back, her hooves banging back onto the bridge with an ominous crack. In her mind, she knew exactly what the sound meant, but as so often is the case, knowledge came much quicker than reaction. The wooden planks under her split, and with a sickening lurch she fell through the slats.

She heard the gasp from the pegasus mare and colt alike. A sharp knock shook her brain as her head caught the planks, and then a gut-punch of the supporting beams under the bridge breaking her fall. Ow, she thought, her vision shimmering with head-rush. There was no pain, but as she wiggled her hooves to find her orientation, she realised something was terribly wrong. There was a wet feeling all over her midriff, but she knew she hadn’t fallen into the river. She felt deflated somehow, and rather than the liquid centre of mass in her nectar-filled belly, something hard poked deep inside.

She glanced down, and saw the broken hoofrail sticking out from the barrel of her chest, just below her ribcage.

“Oh…” she whispered, before passing out.

14. The Doctor and the Librarian

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The bright glow of light slowly swam into Withania’s vision. A warm light that soaked through her coat and into her skin, like her own sun positioned a few feet away. Clenching her eyes against the glare, she slowly peeked out and waited for her eyes to focus. Around her were the teal walls of Ponyville Hospital, and positioned over her was a bright lamp, the kind she would use in the nursery of her green house as a grow-light.

“Heeegh…” she croaked. “Hello?” It was quiet in the room, and she heard a shuffle from the hallway, followed by approaching hoofsteps.

“Ah, Miss Nightshade!” said a stallion’s voice. “I’m very relieved to see you awake!”

The speaker swam into Withania’s view, Doctor Greymare. Quite handsome, thought Withania, smiling in her fuddled brain. He looked at her up and down, before adjusting the lamp so the glare fell below her eyes.

“You gave everyone quite a fright. And then a surprise. And then a puzzle.”

“The bridge is broken…” murmured Withania. “Someone might get hurt on the hoofrail…”

“Umm… Well, you got hurt on the bridge. Quite badly… How do you feel?” While he waited for her to respond, the doctor began to inspect Withania up and down, moving her legs slightly, poking at her muscles with a pencil to see where she tensed up.

“My… my stomach feels odd.”

“That sounds about right, Withania,” said Doctor Greymare. “You suffered a very serious injury there. But when we got you to the hospital, we discovered that you’re- that you- you’re quite unique.”

“Oh, yes. That.”

Withania gingerly pushed the bedsheet down low enough to see the jagged line where her body had been pierced through. She felt light, hollow, as if part of her was missing. Part of it was the absence of the nectar that filled her stomach, but deep down she somehow knew that the damage was more severe. She didn’t meet eyes with Doctor Greymare, but she could see the way he was looking at her from the corner of her vision and knew what he was thinking - were it not for her strange new plant nature, she would be dead.

“You should keep your medical records up to date, Withania. It would be nice to know in advance that your body is somehow a plant. We are at somewhat of a loss of how to treat you, but I’ve sent messages to a few colleagues who have some experience in these fields. You actually would have been my first choice, were you not the patient!”

“How long have I been uh… asleep?”

“About a day. I would say that it’s incredible that you’ve regained consciousness so soon, but the truth is that I think the only reason you blacked out at all is from shock. You didn’t lose consciousness from the severity of your wounds, you fainted. Your body seems to be completely unaffected by your injury.”

Withania moved her joints experimentally under the bedsheet. She was a little bit stiff, however this seemed more as a result of sleeping for a day. She swiveled her legs out, gingerly stood up next to the bed and felt… fine. The empty sensation was more noticeable now, as she had grown used to the strange water weight she usually carried around, she definitely knew that part of her body was significantly damaged, but there was no pain, no aches, or even loss of sensation.

“Well, I appreciate your help, Doctor,” she said, absently brushing her mane roughly into place. “But before the accident on the bridge I was on my way to Princess Twilight’s castle to get aid for my… disposition, and I think that might be the best place for me right now. Do you mind if I check myself out?”

Doctor Greymare looked at her critically and sighed.

“It troubles me to see a patient leave with unknown ailments, Miss Withania, but I have to admit that your body is quite outside my wheelhouse at this point. My concern is that while we’ve stitched you up, that wound isn’t something that you can just walk off. I’d point out that you can’t eat in this condition, but after looking over you, I’m not even sure if that’s a problem?”

“I… have a solution to this, but it’s a little weird and I’d rather not burden you with it. I promise to check in with you in the next day or so though, ok?”

“I would stop you, if you hadn’t said you were going to see the Princess. That’s above my pay grade. Please please please do check in though - I’m not terribly comfortable with this, but I have neither the reason nor the power to stop you.”

“I will, I promise.”

Withania’s brain was coming back up to speed and recalling her train of thought the previous day. The more she remembered, the more determined she was to get back on track, get to Princess Twilight, take action.

She checked out at the front desk. The secretary said nothing out of the ordinary, but was clearly astonished to see Withania walking around as if nothing were the matter. It put thoughts into Withania’s head about how she might have looked on her way in. Impaled through her middle. They had probably cut off the section piercing her so the doctors could remove it at the hospital.

“Thank you,” said Withania, pushing these morbid thoughts out of her head. “I’ll be back for a check up in a few days.”

She left the hospital with due haste before slowing to a plod once she was on the path leading back into town. She felt lighter on her hooves with her stomach mostly mangled and empty, but also lacking in balance as a result. If such damage occurred to one of the plants in her garden, she wouldn’t hesitate to prune a clipping from it to replant and then compost the damaged portion. If she deliberately got herself eaten, she would regrow a new body again, undamaged.

Yesterday her mind had been absolutely made up about accepting whatever cure or treatment Twilight may have come up with, and had been on her way to get it - but now she was faced with the fact that she had endured two fatal situations in little over a month. The first with the timberwolf, now the accident on the bridge.

“I would be dead if not for turning into a plant,” she said aloud, stopping in her tracks.

Maybe I would not have been in those perilous situations in the first place if my life were taking an ordinary course, she reasoned. But this was speculation, the forest, the bridge, these were places she went on a regular basis. Well, so I survived, so what? That doesn’t mean I’m obligated to remain a plant.

Withania resumed her walk, now heading in the general direction of the Castle of Friendship. She still had the sample that she was supposed to give to Twilight, and it would be worth hearing out the Princess’ findings too. The day’s events had presented the idea to her that there were considerable advantages to her condition other than simply doing lewd things with her friends, but did she really want to be this oddity? This failed experiment? She’d made a modest name for herself as an experienced and skilled botanist - now she would be “that one pony who turned herself into a plant doing weird sex things.”

She groaned inwardly at this circular train of thought. When she looked up, the glittering towers of Ponyville’s crystal castle filled her vision. She pushed her dilemmas aside and butted the front door open with her head.

Immediately inside was the main hallway from which doors to rooms and stairs branched out, but in the centre stood a slender music stand with a neatly written note stating that Princess Twilight was out of town.

“All other enquiries, please see the librarian,” read Withania. Well, at least she could drop off the sample, even if she would have to wait for the Princess to return. She tempered her disappointment - once again it was not reasonable to expect the Princess of Friendship to be at her sole beck and call.

The library was bigger now, lacking the cosy charm of Ponyville’s beloved Treehouse, but gaining significantly more facilities. Withania hadn’t yet been here, but was pleasantly surprised by how bright and airy the room was. All things considered the interior of the castle seemed far too big for its external size.

“Good afternoon, I’ll be with you in a moment,” said a voice from the middle of the hall. Withania looked to the source and saw a unicorn behind a table at the foot of a tall pillar of bookshelves in the middle of the library. She was mostly obscured by the piles of books on the table, but Withania could see a midnight blue coat haloed by blond hair and a golden magical aura around her horn. Half a dozen books fanned out and slotted themselves into place on high up shelves.

Withania hadn’t seen this unicorn before, probably she’d moved in from Canterlot to help Twilight, another prissy city dweller, no doubt. The unicorn looked down and caught sight of Withania - and her expression immediately changed from demure to a knowing, almost smug, smile as she began to make her way over to the front desk.

Withania’s eyes widened as she saw that the unicorn was, in fact, at least twice the width of Withania and likely thrice her weight. Her belly hung low between her chubby legs while her flanks hid the frame of her body entirely with round curves ending in the globes of her hindquarters, which were emblazoned with a yellow insignia for some kind of screw clamp. Or a press. She had clearly anticipated Withania’s reaction because she walked with a practised fluidity that accentuated her form - her weight bobbed from side to side and her straw-coloured tail swished behind her.

Withania’s memories flashed back to some of her earliest experiences with her strange interests - a pink unicorn with a similar stature and a dominant personality to match. This unicorn emitted the same vibes, disarming her in an instant.

“My name is Paper Press,” said the unicorn, arriving at the front desk. “You must be Withania.”

“Uh, yes… how did-”

“Twilight told me to expect you. Regrettably, she had urgent business to attend to, but made me equally aware of your situation. You’re looking surprisingly well for a pony who was in a potentially fatal accident yesterday.”

“I feel like I should be considerably more distressed about this than I am. Yet I’m standing here like; ‘Oh look, another crazy thing this body does that I didn’t know about,’” said Withania despondently.

“Both Twilight and myself are very relieved that you’re okay,” said Paper Press. She walked out from around the front desk to inspect Withania more closely. “However, it looks to me like you’re not entirely unscathed?”

“It… it’s fine, I’ll figure something out. For now though, Zecora took a sample from my mane. She said that Princess Twilight would need it for something she’d been working on?”

“I’m sure we will,” remarked Paper Press, returning to her post behind the desk. “And yes, I can take the sample if you please…”

Withania took off her bag and fished out the bottle containing her mane-vine, which Paper Press lifted away with her magic. At the same time, she lifted from under the counter an apparatus that Withania instantly recognised from her childhood - a simple flower press. About the size of a typical book, it consisted of layers of cardboard and paper sandwiched between a sturdy wooden block and a sheet of thick glass, connected by a long screw in each corner and butterfly nuts to tighten down the screws and compress the assembly together.

Paper Press used her magic to unscrew all four fasteners simultaneously and lift away the glass cover, setting it aside as she opened the sample bottle.

“Truth be told, Twilight has spent more time studying your body’s anatomy, rather than seeking a cure, or treatment, per se. But she sees your frustration and now fully intends to pursue the latter, hence the sample.”

Paper Press arranged the length of vine onto the top-most sheet of paper before placing the glass and fasteners on top once again. She began to tighten them down, quickly winding down to the bite point before slowly beginning to add tension.

“A girl of your interests has seen one of these before, I assume?” she asked.

Withania was somewhat transfixed. She had loved to press flowers as a filly - for arts and crafts, but also because there was a certain allure to it her child couldn’t place - yet at some point she’d put away her press kit, never using it again, and she couldn’t say why. Her expression told Paper Press enough, at the very least. As the screws of the press were tightened, the sample was pressed flat, turning from a three-dimensional piece of Withania into a perfect image suspended under the glass, immobile and pinned in place, preserved on display.

“That should do it. I will see to it that this reaches the Princess as soon as she returns. Until then, I now have the chance to try my own treatment for you…”

Withania’s fixation on the press broke at hearing this, and her eyes snapped up to meet Paper Press’ large brown eyes that had never once stopped watching her. The large unicorn slowly sauntered out from behind the front desk, her immense curves bobbing in a perfect sinusoidal motion as she walked up to Withania.

“Princess Twilight brought me up to speed on everything, and quite frankly I think you and I are long overdue to be better acquainted,” she said, looming over Withania, “So let’s have a little chat, shall we?”

15. A Pause for Thought

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Paper Press slowly advanced toward Withania, her head held high and her eyes lidded with a devastatingly sultry gaze. Withania was once again transfixed, unsure how to deal with this situation. She barely knew this unicorn, or exactly how much Princess Twilight had told her, or what she meant by becoming ‘better acquainted.’ But she was also a hopeless rabbit-in-torchlight when ruthlessly handled this way.

Yet she hadn’t even been handled yet. Paper Press hadn’t touched her or even brushed her with her magic, and Withania already felt like her legs had turned to clay. Paper Press radiated the type of commanding presence that seemed to dominate all, and every part of Withania was attuned to it. She felt a strange shame that a bookworm like this unicorn, who probably wouldn’t last fifteen minutes weeding out a flowerbed, could instantly outclass her like this. But at the same time she craved it. She wanted to be put in her place by this goddess-

“Umm,” she stuttered, seeking to interrupt her train of thought by any means possible. “Well, I should probably rest - I’m still somewhat injured…”

“I’m aware,” said Paper Press, cutting her off. “We both know how to solve that. But let’s not rush this… Tell me, Withania, are you attracted to me?”

Paper Press paused barely a foot away from Withania. She was scarce an inch taller, except for her horn, but her significantly larger body made Withania seem small by comparison, and her commanding demeanour made Withania seem tiny. Her blonde hair shimmered in contrast with her midnight blue coat, framing her face in Withania’s vision.

Withania gave a slight nod, blushing profusely.

“Of course you are. With a trail like yours, it was a given. Miss Mulberry the baker, Surasa of the Forest, Lady Wingate… you’ve an eye for partners that can be bigger than you. What’s more, you revel in adding a little weight to yourself. You do to your friends what you desire to be done to you.”

Withania baulked at this, her rump slowly lowering into a sitting position. How did Paper Press know all this? Withania had never mentioned all her antics to anyone. Had Twilight figured all of it out? Or was she just sufficiently connected that a hundred birds had exposed each of her exploits? The notion that Paper Press already had Withania’s number like this paralyzed her even further. The unicorn didn’t just have the skillset to destroy her, but the inside knowledge as well.

“Ummm,” stammered Withania, her blush somehow still deepening, “y-yes. Big girls like you, yeah…”

“H’mm,” murmured Paper Press, raising one eyebrow at this remark. “Do you think I’m fat, Withania?”

Paper Press touched her chest up against Withania as she said this. Her expression was… complicated. Her eyes and posture conveyed the same alluring predation as before - but the way she said the word fat, and the way the question hung in front of her suddenly caught Withania off-guard. Had she just said something wrong? Paper Press clearly enjoyed asserting her weight, didn’t that make this fine? With Paper Press’ chest now starting to press against her, Withania tried to shuffle backwards, only to find a magical aura holding her hind hooves in place. Subtle enough to go unnoticed, powerful enough to keep Withania from reversing, Paper Press was slowly advancing, forcing her into a taller and taller sitting position that she wouldn’t be able to hold for long.

“Um, I- I didn’t mean that as a bad thing.”

“Ah, but that’s not the point. I am a big girl. I’m fat and I like it. But there’s more to me than just being a plus sized girl, and that’s precisely what I want to talk to you about. Let’s get comfortable, shall we?”

Taking a full step forwards, Paper Press pushed Withania onto her back with her bulk alone, and before Withania could move or even extend her legs, Paper Press was standing over her with midnight-coloured legs on either side of her shoulders. Her heavy looking belly hung low, covering Withania’s own diminished middle and pinning her hind legs in place without the aid of magic.

“You’ve sprouted a lot of unusual new abilities, and you’ve been using that as cover for wanting a ‘cure’ for your new form. But that’s not really the problem is it, Withania?”

Withania stared up at the unicorn on top of her. Paper Press was big enough that she could remain at full standing height, and her belly still covered Withania, so she now seemed very tall and far away, yet was providing full body contact at the same time.

“Well,” Withania started and then paused. Were they really having a therapy session like this? Withania was desperately trying to keep herself in check, especially knowing that Paper Press was judging her every move and word. This was a kind of domination she had never been subjected to, but yet the humiliation of being exposed like this while still being in an intimate setting was enthralling. “I’ve been putting people in danger, and I don’t know if I can control it.”

“No one was in danger. Your abilities grow from the heart, and you only want good things. No one has suffered harm from their interactions with you. At worst, you inconvenienced a few ponies. Even when Twilight stepped in, they would have come to no harm if left unchecked. You’re more worried about what people will think of you.”

Withania tested her ability to lift Paper Press and see if she was genuinely stuck or not. Her underbelly was plush, but behind the softness was a weight Withania couldn’t possibly hope to move. In fact, she realised, Paper Press wasn’t even applying her weight. She was holding back and already Withania was helplessly pinned.

“I didn’t know that in advance,” she protested. “But even if you’re right, can you blame me? Already my friends are like ‘Oooh Withania, do weird plant stuff!’ and it’s like the pony I was a month ago doesn’t even matter any more. Also umm, I’m a little confused as to what we’re doing right now…”

Paper Press responded by spreading her legs slightly, lowering herself and applying more weight on top of Withania. A normal pony would have difficulty breathing at this point, but Withania had no such trouble, which made her extremely worried as to exactly how far this situation could escalate. Paper Press’ chest was slowly creeping over her own as her larger mass began to spread, and her sly smile grew closer.

“Are you quite bemused at suddenly becoming part of a strange scene you’ve never experienced? This is how your recent partners felt. It’s not a bad feeling, is it? You’re not tapping out. You’re a little anxious, but you can’t help but like what’s happening here.”

Withania stared back, following every word. Had this been the sensations Flitter and Cloudchaser had felt? Twilight and Roseluck? This was different to what she did, but she did feel a unique thrill of the unknown.

“This is actually a little different for me as well,” continued Paper Press, “Normally my scenes require significant preparation and aftercare, but with you I can do anything I like…”

She paused and lowered herself further. Withania’s eyes widened as she felt Paper Press’ merciless weight press her joints flat against the floor. Her plush body spread the load evenly, perhaps even comfortably, but Withania knew that her own body could deform no further to accommodate the increasing pressure upon it.

“And oh honey, the things I could do to you with a book binder…”

If Withania had been able to see herself from an observer’s perspective, there would be a large round blue mare almost spread-eagle in the middle of the library. From just behind her thighs, the tan hooves and green fetlocks of Withania poked out, but other than that the green mare was completely hidden up until her neck and head between Paper Press’ shoulders. She couldn’t move a muscle, and with Paper Press’ belly spread over her entire body and sides, it almost felt like she was sinking into the larger mare.

“But I digress,” said Paper Press casually. She wasn’t even breathing heavily, as if all of this was completely effortless to her. “I’m a fat mare, Withania, and I like it that way. My body is mine and I do as I please with it. There’s nothing I love more than using my body on others. But on the streets, and just as often by admirers, that’s all I am. Just a fatty.”

Withania could no longer tell when Paper Press was adjusting her stance now. So much weight was pressing against her that all of the unicorn’s slightest movements, her breathing, her heartbeat, the burble of her stomach, were transmitted down onto her. Her blush was at maximum intensity at this level of steady contact. Being swallowed was one thing, being in a belly was another - but those were sensations of change. This was torturously slow, drawing out Withania’s carnal desire and allowing it to linger for longer than she thought possible.

What she could tell was that her body was at its limit. Her contact against the floor was somehow increasing. Her parted thighs were spreading beyond what she thought possible, while her belly was spreading either side of her.

She’s- she’s squashing me flat! Withania realised at last, she’s flattening me like a flower in a press!

“What they realise when they get to know me is that I can also locate and name the constellations on a cloudy night. I can design and produce a tome to last a century from a tatty manuscript. I can layout a library from a warehouse of unsorted books. Oh, and I’m not half-bad at baking a pie either.”

Withania’s nose slowly disappeared under the inexorable roll of Paper Press’ belly spreading over her, leaving only her eyes visible and gazing up at the unicorn’s face, which was now only inches away, clearly taking the greatest pleasure in every moment that passed.

“And that, Withania, is who I am. Fat might be what I am, but my choices, my talents, my hobbies - and my pleasures - are who I am. Do you follow?”

Withania was comically unable to reply in words, or even nod a response, but she blinked her eyes in what she hoped conveyed that she was listening.

“Good. Now, enjoy my pleasure for a moment, and then we’ll continue,” said Paper Press. And with that she leaned forward, covering Withania in her entirety, and spreading her legs on either side to settle her full weight down on her charge.

Smothered into a world of soft, yet crushing pudge, Withania both heard and felt a moan of pleasure from around her as Paper Press settled out. The pressure on top of her had filled every gap, curve and angle of her body with belly pudge, and now her body could hold out no longer. She didn’t hear, but rather felt her joints giving way. She felt muffled shocks from her limbs that told her - without even being able to see or move - that her body was literally breaking. Anxious thoughts flared up as she feared for her safety in this situation, yet there was no pain to tell her anything was wrong at all. Her bones felt slightly bendy, flexing like balsa wood before they gave way to the flat plane they were being forced into, revealing that she actually wasn’t as tough as she had been as an earth pony. She could snap like the stalk of a rose bush now, fibrous and bendy instead of brittle.

She felt alien, bent and pressed in impossible ways she’d never experienced before, thrilling in the absence of discomfort. The familiar natural instinct that she should be doing anything in her power to escape was present, only to be flattened by Paper Press’ complete dominion over her entire being. In her mind’s eye, Withania imagined what she might look like right now, starfished out, her nose and muzzle flattened down into a cross section, her eyes slightly crossed in confusion, while her body was displayed in two dimensions, like a box that had been opened out to be stacked flat. She could tense her muscles, but felt no movement at all. All of her strength was gone, her sturdy earth pony shape rendered useless.

“Withania, you are exceedingly comfortable to lay on. This is the start of a beautiful relationship,” vibrated Paper Press’ voice all around her. “You’re like a fresh hay bale, none of the usual pointy or hard bits that ponies have. Just so there’s no misunderstandings here, in case you’re feeling alarmed by any of this, rest assured that I’m going to eat you, after which you will be renewed. And based on our understanding of things, you’ll regrow again with a fresh new body free of your injuries. Very convenient.”

The way she spoke so casually about her intentions was igniting Withania’s desires like a blowtorch. Pillow-talk was fun - and the glare of a predator looking at her with intent even more so - but this was a calm, authoritative voice stating a chain of events Withania couldn’t stop, even if she’d wanted to.

“I’ve taken advantage of your nature, Withania,” continued Paper Press. “Your body is like a plant, something for me to harvest, make bedding with, even graze upon as I wish. You like that, but also you’re afraid that this is all you’re good for now. There’s a part of you that secretly likes to be objectified like this. Imagine if I just owned you forever, growing you in a pot on my windowsill to fluster and devour on a daily basis… you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Withania blushed under the innumerable heft of unicorn. Her mind was fuzzy, her want of everything that Paper Press was offering punctured by reminders of her real life, her garden, her research.

Her musings were interrupted from Paper Press heaving herself up, the light of the room suddenly blinding Withania as she rejoined the world again. The sudden removal of intense pressure made Withania feel light, almost like she was expanding slightly like memory foam. Alas, the impact on her body was quite real, and despite her best efforts, the best she could do was curl up slightly at the tips of her extremities - capable of moving, but not strong enough to lift even her completely diminished weight.

The familiar face of Paper Press appeared as the huge bulk of her body stomped backwards. She smiled down at Withania, her horn illuminating and a shimmer of magic enveloping Withania’s completely flattened body.

Withania would have gasped if she could, as she felt herself peel off of the floor, flapping like a tea towel, limp and sagging under her own weight. Her view pitched forward and she could see herself spread thin across the floor, belly an oval, her tail like a streak of terracotta paint between her wide and flat thighs.

“I like a good bulge, Withania, but ponies as they are can be dreadfully lumpy going down the throat. A little work though, and we can make you into something much smoother on the gullet…”

Paper Press finished painstakingly peeling Withania off of the floor in a practised motion that was careful not to stretch or strain her, and held her aloft, magical aura gripping her head and shoulders, as well as the ends of her hind legs. As swift as handling laundry, Withania was whipped around and pulled taut against the underside of Paper Press’ belly. She had no shape of her own anymore, and conformed to whatever she was applied to - in this case the soft curve of her tormentor’s body. With little extra work she could be tied into place, like an apron or a cape, worn and displayed, bending and creasing with each movement of Paper Press.

“You’d make an excellent towel… a lovely fibrous texture that’s absorbent, yet soft, and a perfect amount of stretch. Normal ponies can be a little saggy or rubbery at this point, but you almost feel like you were made for this. But, we can save all these things for another time - your body is spent and you need to regrow, and that’s why you need me to eat you.”

Withania felt her hind hooves curling backwards, another alien touch of her hoof touching both itself and then her hocks, as Paper Press began to roll her up. She couldn’t see what was happening, but the sudden sensation was evident on her face as Paper Press’ now familiar sly smile spread again.

“You want to see? That’s easy when you can be folded like paper…”

The magical aura supporting Withania’s head and shoulders pressed against her face, pushing it backwards, backwards, far past the natural point it should be able to tilt, until her gaze had been folded back on itself and she could see down her own back. She gazed wide-eyed at her legs rolling up like a newspaper, past her thighs and over her ass. She shivered as her privates where enclosed in layers of her flattened body and pressed together.

On instinct, she moved her forelegs to touch the roll of her body, as if she were going to try and impede Paper Press’ magic, but in an instant they were caught like socks in a wringer, curling into the mass as it grew larger and larger.

Paper Press now straightened Withania’s head back out, before wrapping it around the neat scroll she had made.

“How you feeling there, hon?” She asked, levitating Withania in front of her. “I’d like to put a nice silk bow around you, wax sealed, add you to my parchments. Bring you out every couple of days to be tensioned and conditioned… before you know it you’ll forget what it was ever like to be the shape of a pony…”

Withania trembled, not out of fear, but almost wanting that. Wanting to be turned into an object of this unicorn’s collection. Paper Press spoke with such confidence, such authority. Withania didn’t know if she had actually done this to other ponies or not, but she could believe it.

“My, that look in your eyes, I thought this would be easy, but you have no idea the temptation that gaze of yours puts me under. Let’s get back on topic before I do something you’ll enjoy a bit too much…”

Withania watched as Paper Press licked her lips before opening her mouth wide, the light spilling in through the large windows perfectly illuminating her gaping maw. This vision grew as Withania was levitated closer, then she was turned sideways, and vision turned into touch as she felt the right side of her rolled up body slip into the warm, moist mouth of the unicorn.

What she expected next was the gradual gulps and undulations of a pony swallowing a large object naturally too large for them - but instead she felt smooth and steady pressure travelling from one end of her roll to the other around her as Paper Press easily engulfed her like a novelty sized hot dog. She watched teeth pass harmlessly in front of her and felt Paper Press’ tongue cradle her face as she was squeezed into a practised gullet in a single smooth motion.

The vibrating moan of Paper Press sighing in contentment reverberated around Withania as her captor was rewarded with the flavour she’d patiently waited for, and then there was a pause as Paper Press closed her mouth, leaving an enormous cylindrical bulge at the top of her throat.

Withania shivered during this pause, her face smushed up against the fleshy insides of Paper Press’ mouth, and the rest of her body equally compressed. In response, she felt the tremor of a snicker from all around her. Paper Press was unable to speak with her mouthful like this, but her enjoyment was evident, and clearly feeling no urgency, she began suckle on her mouthful, drenching Withania in saliva to the point where it began to soak in between the layers of her rolled up body. This could have been drawn out much longer with more preparation, but as big as her lungs were, Paper Press had limitations, and had to swallow.

Her expert throat control on full display, she gave a single powerful swallow that didn’t feel like the usual gulp of that other ponies opted for - which was more a motion to clear the throat than anything else - this swallow felt like calm and practised control of her entire gullet, squeezing in at the top to push Withania down in a single smooth movement.

And down she went, the large bulge in Paper Press’ throat travelled down her neck, sinking into her chest, barely appearing again at her belly as anything other than a slight increase in weight causing additional sag. Withania felt as if she were being squeezed through a tube, already an object before she had even hit the stomach, a sodden lump sandwiched together and swallowed whole.

When she felt herself settle into Paper Press’ stomach, the compression around her lessened, and filled out the extra space a little more. Where Roseluck had been the same size as Withania, her tum had been tight and bound up in her middle as Withania stretched it out - but Paper Press was easily big enough to hold her, especially in her current state, with minimal distending. There was a pleasing, rather soothing sway as Paper Press shifted her weight from one hoof to the other, leaning to one side so she could rub her belly where Withania now resided.

“Another part of being a big girl I love,” she said, sighing with pleasure, “is that I could just walk into town right now and get lunch, and no one would know you were there, soaking away inside me. I’ve removed you from the world, added you to mine, and no one would be able to tell.”

These constant threats continued to provoke Withania’s trembling. Paper Press seemed to have a never-ending list of ways she could torment Withania with a good time, and all of them sounded effortless enough to be credible.

“But we’ll keep this afternoon just between us now. I’ve had my fun with you. We’ve got a little time left before you’re past the point of focusing on what I’m saying, so I’ll make the most of it.”

Withania felt a great weight settle on top of her again, as Paper Press lay down on her rounded tum, but this time it wasn’t crushing. From the inside, it felt like the perfect embrace, a hug from all sides, exciting in the way that all of the stomach juices around her were now being kneaded into her softening form, yet somehow incredibly wholesome at the same time.

“This plant form you’ve created for yourself is amazing. You can do many amazing things that are enjoyable for both yourself and others. But also, you’re still Withania. I’ve read Twilight’s notes about you - you’re a world-class botanist. You have houseplants in your spare bedroom that are rarer and harder to cultivate than the most exotic samples of the Royal Canterlot Greenhouses, and your skill and care make their cultivation look effortless. You’re a hard worker, building up your business from scratch, rejecting the easy scholarship-driven career your parents would have offered in order to make your own life in the way you wanted.”

Withania’s shivers finally abated as the muffled voice of Paper Press resonated around her. Her brain was foggy with lust and pleasure, her body transformed and slowly melting into a soft goop that would soon be absorbed by her new friend, making her a part of those voluminous curves until her seed escaped to regrow. But through all of this, she suddenly felt like herself, a quiet gardener exploring the weird and wonderful world of sex with a friend she could trust.

“An amazing one-of-a-kind plant hybrid is what you are. But who you are - you are Withania. And you always will be. No one can take that away from you.”

Warm fuzzy thoughts of being loved mixed into the fog of her mind as her physical form became mushy and indistinct. Withania already knew that she loved these kinky activities, but for the first time, she felt truly intimate while indulging in them. Perhaps it was receiving it from such an unexpected partner, who had spent the past half hour - right up to a minute ago - teasing her out of her mind, but the real answer settled as Withania’s last clear thoughts, knowing that Paper Press knew full well what it was like to be treated by appearance and body type instead of personality, yet she was still happy, because she could choose to be whatever she wanted.

Paper Press smiled to herself and rolled over onto her back, letting Withania be on top for once. The comforting weight of a bellyful of a melting friend settled out under her gently rubbing hooves and she lay still to let Withania enjoy the sensation of becoming a liquid soup, twisting through the maze of her gut. There was plenty of time for Withania to feel the sway of her body for the rest of the evening ahead.

16. Perennial

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Somewhere deep inside Paper Press, Withania could sense a part of herself - something absolute and constant, like a lifeline to a physical body. My seed, she thought. Her body was gone, melted away and absorbed, but part of her remained. With nothing to contain it, her consciousness was spread out, disseminated through the body of Paper Press. She didn’t have limbs or any sense of shape, but could feel herself as the soft and heavy chub of Paper’s belly and hips. She couldn’t see or hear directly, but senses came to her like the memory of something that had just happened, something Paper Press herself was experiencing.

The sensation that dominated everything was the push-pull of Paper’s body in motion. For every step she took, her hips compressed and stretched in turn, pressing and releasing Withania’s foggy mind trapped inside them. The kneading sensations roused and kindled Withania in a way she couldn’t control or fight against, nor wanted to.

All the ideas that had been swimming around in Withania’s head - her transformation, getting into trouble with friends, being seen differently, what she wanted going forwards - were finally dissipated along with the rest of her damaged body, and now she was a passenger in the body of a new friend.

Paper Press’ body was big and heavy, and being as such didn’t come without effort. Withania was strong and nimble, needing little to no effort in day to day existence. Paper was big, and Withania could sense the additional effort it took her just walking around the library all day. There was a determination to be the best she could be that made Withania feel like she’d taken herself for granted, a determination that made itself apparent every time Paper Press used her magic. Withania’s earth pony magic was subtle, unseen, a state of mind. But Paper Press was a unicorn and each time her horn illuminated to levitate a stack of books, or adjust the book binder, Withania felt a surge of energy flowing all the way from Paper’s hooves. It went through every fibre of her body, focusing to the point of her horn, a current that spoke to every single muscle, yet didn’t strain a single one of them.

Withania shivered with delight, feeling like she was pressed inside a soft pillow being gently fluffed and then periodically pressed against a warm radiator for a second or two.

Paper Press talked aloud, saying sweet nothings about how soft Withania was on her hips, how her belly swayed. Withania did not hear this, but somehow knew every word as if it were spoken directly into her mind. Occasionally Paper Press talked to another pony, someone coming in to collect or deposit a book, someone unaware that Withania was trapped only an arm’s length away in the midnight blue flank of the librarian. Trapped, but also lacking any sense of desire to leave. For as long as Paper Press desired, Withania was part of her body now, and Withania had no responsibilities other than to languish in constant and relaxing stimulation.

Once the afternoon drew late and library hours were over, Paper Press retired to her private chambers within the castle and headed straight for her bed. She was partial to a good nap after work so she could stay up late and watch the stars.

“Alright Withania,” she said, climbing onto the bed with a heavy protest of the mattress springs, “As much as I’ve enjoyed your company today, I’m going to evict you for the night.”

Withania had little chance to process these words, as without warning Paper Press settled her full weight onto her flank, seemingly knowing where to aim for maximum effect. If Withania had thought she couldn’t be squashed again, having already been flattened, eaten, and digested, she was dead wrong. Her very soul was pressed down into Paper’s bed as the unicorn’s shapely rear spread itself on the mattress, not unlike the smothering weight she’d experienced earlier in the day, but now she was part of it. She wasn’t the object being pressed, but the weight itself. Euphoria flooded Withania’s addled consciousness, filling her out with primal lust, overriding everything else, above and beyond, untempered, unbalanced, until whatever was left of Withania’s thoughts blacked out into dreamless slumber.

***

As a pony, Withania’s brain raced through thoughts and ideas, hopes and dreams. As another inch on Paper Press’ ass, all of this was suppressed under a thick fog of sensual stimulation in a dream-like state. But as a plant, Withania’s brain was finally slow enough to take her time.

Plants weren’t in a hurry. Her progress was slow, reaching out into the rich soil and drawing in the energy of the earth, soaking in water and nutrients and building a thread to break the surface with. Instead of thoughts that buzzed like a hummingbird, chasing round in circles, her consciousness reformed from her seed calm and focused. Growing was effortless as she emerged from the ground and spread a leaf or two for balance.

All her life she had been ordinary - ordinary in the sense of normal. A simple earth pony in good health and fitness. She had made good use of her life, following her heart and making productive use of her time. But never once had she questioned what she was, nor had she needed to.

Millimetre by millimetre she grew taller, drawing up food and fluids from her roots, swaying in slow motion that only trees would see as she spread another leaf, angling upwards in a fanfare for the magnum opus that was to follow.

Her voracious adventures with her friends had meandered between consenting experimentation and tipsy frolics that had tested the limits of comfort for some, but never harmed. To blame them on her transformation into a plant-pony hybrid would be to shirk responsibility. There was no monster inside of her that wrested control of her body away from her, her actions were her own.

A cluster of scale leaves formed at the tip of her stem, giving way to layers of petals pushing into the open, surrounding a soft centre of complex xylem structure. This was a dance that was hard-coded into her, not just as a plant, but as an earth pony. She understood every step and minute from her own nature, and her connection to nature. All that remained was to grow larger and await the sunlight that would cue her performance.

Paper Press had imparted on her, in the strangest ways that perhaps only the two of them would understand, the experience of a body that wasn’t always easy to work with, that could be equally an object of desire to some and disdain to others, even the self. But it was her body, and taken care of, it would support her through all endeavours.

As the light of morning swelled, the ghostly green petals of the flower shifted, sliding across one another to expand like an aperture at their tips, growing into a full bloom that cupped the triumphant fruit of labour.

Withania opened her eyes, squinting slightly at the bright light shining down on her from… the ceiling. She looked down. She was back in Twilight’s basement lab of the castle, illuminated by a magic that mimicked the sun well enough for her to feel the familiar warmth of her photosynthesis. The room seemed much smaller to her, especially while she was a good six feet off of the ground, surrounded by her soft petals. Her hips and hindlegs were wedged comfortably in her stem, but she felt like she could pull them out at any time. For now, she felt every inch of the thick stem and roots standing from the earthen floor she had grown from.

“Good morning, sleep well?” said a familiar voice.

Withania leaned over, parting two petals to see between them. Twilight Sparkle and Paper Press sat side by side looking up at her. The Princess had a notebook and quill in magic, clearly having been taking extensive notes, while Paper merely looked up with a knowing smile. They both seemed so small, but memories of being at eye level with both of them surfaced in her mind.

“I… I think so,” said Withania, adjusting to the speed of her pony brain again after a long night of contemplation.

“It certainly looks that way,” said Paper Press, “Look behind you.”

Withania turned in the direction Paper had nodded her head in. The opposite wall was a single giant mirror, displaying in full glory a huge flower. The stem was as thick as a pony, the leaves broad and lustrous, and the flower cradling a fern green pony with a terracotta mane, speckled with tiny yellow flowers.

It’s me, she thought, looking into her own eyes. The whole flower is me.

Even though this was no less than the third time she had regrown, even though she had experienced an awakening similar to this in the magnus tegmen a dozen times before her transformation, seeing a clear reflection of herself at full bloom hit her differently. Never in her wildest dreams did she believe she could grow something so beautiful yet so simple, and as she bore witness to it, it was herself.

She looked away, and instinctively pulled herself free of her stem. The flower leaned over slightly as she shifted her weight and slid down one giant petal, landing gracefully in front of her friends with a rustle of her mane and tail settling around her.

“Oh no!” exclaimed Paper Press, looking up at the flower. The moment Withania had detached herself, it began to wilt, the stunning petals shrinking, and the stem sagging under the weight.

“Don’t worry,” said Withania, smiling at the dwindling plant and then at Paper Press, “I’ll grow back again. Plants always do.”

Twilight looked on wistfully, clearly saddened that she wouldn’t be able to host a giant flower of her own, but knowing that this was how nature worked.

“Withania… I’ve done a lot of research this week. There is a way to get you back to normal. It’s more than just a simple spell, but with the two of us working together, I believe we can do it.”

Withania sat down and was absolutely still for a few moments. No breathing, no twitching muscles, barely a pulse to speak of, and she closed her eyes and smiled at Twilight.

“Twilight, thank you for your hard work, I would love to hear about your theories, and see all your notes about me - but actually, I think I’m going to be just fine as I am.”