"Aww. It's just a little vine and—" I cut my words off sharply as a little light from the cave entrance illuminated the familiar black and turquoise vine. But it didn't move to rapidly grab and ensnare me. "Not feeling yourself?"

I leaned down and prodded the strangely dormant vine with my nose—still it didn't move. "I wish I knew what was going on here. Ponies that seem to be part plant, plunder vines that seem unusually unresponsive, and a cave that had chairs in it."

The last fact made me blink in confusion. There was what seemed to be a picnic table and chairs a little deeper in. All around them were vines, but I spotted something more useful still—a magic lamp.

Trusting the vines to leave me alone, I carefully walked over to the table and chairs and reared up to reach for the lamp (it was hanging above the table from a rope). Flying in the dark was never a good idea, so I stretched as far as I could and, at full extension, felt the lamp under my hoof.

The magic panel tingled under my hoof and a dull yellow light slowly grew from the lamp. "There. That should help me… see…" My eyes widened as I looked around the cave.

Huge tendrils of plunder vine filled the cave from floor to ceiling. Unlike the little one I'd touched, these were all active—moving. I tried to scream when the world went dark. My shout trapped inside one of the big pod-hands that had grabbed my head.

"C-C-Can't we talk nicely about this?" I asked, and tried to walk backwards.

A sweet smell filled my nose. Rich and perfumed, the scent tickled inside nostrils and then, as I inhaled more, inside my head. I stopped walking backwards, content to stop and find out what the over-excited plant wanted next.

I took deep breaths, slowly drawing more of that fuzzy feeling into myself. The tingling spread from my head back. My wings drooped at my sides, and my forelegs grew a little wobbly. I gave myself a little shake as the tingling reached my wings.

A tug at the bulb my head was inside inspired me to stumble forward a few steps. Another tug turned into a gentle, constant pulling. "You theem nith." I giggled at how silly my words sounded inside the grip of the pod-thing.

My legs felt like jello, but I managed to take the few steps needed to follow the tugging vines. "Three Huther thould be there." Giggles came again—my words were so silly.

The tugging stopped, at last, and it seemed as good a time as any to just fold down. I bent my left foreleg, and like a cascade my right folded too and my barrel fell into the soft plants under me. I laughed at myself, unable to stop the wonderful feelings.

The tingling had spread further, traveling down my body to my back legs, tail, and under my tail. "Oh…" My back legs were holding steady—steadier than my forelegs had been—which held my rump high in the air. Remembering more silly things, I ran Twilight and Cadance's little song through my head.

Sunshine. Sunshine. Ladybugs awake. Clap my hooves and do a little sha— My thoughts cut short at the feel of something poking around my waving plot. Shake, shake, shake. The touch of whatever it was followed my rear as I waved it around. It could have seemed strange, and something inside me told me it should feel strange, but I was laughing too much to realize the tendril was getting closer until it nudged between my labia.

My laughing stopped, replaced with a moan that took in a deep breath of the nice air. It had been a little too long since I'd been with a stallion, and it made me want whatever that tendril was offering more than I should have. Rocking my hips backward forced the tip a little deeper into me, and I shoved all the air out of my lungs.

The dark interior of the thing around my head was no longer a problem—my eyes were closed tight. When the tendril started to push forward, into me, I made more hungry noises. Plot in the air, I could remember how Cheese had felt atop me. He'd been a wonderful lover, if a little excitable, but the thing that made him shine was the size of his—

I squealed loudly as the tendril plunged deep. Images and memories of Cheese Sandwich filled my head. I vowed right then and there that this plant was now my favorite plant—even better than the silly-herb Zecora sometimes gave me.

The pent-up need of nearly a year without a regular lover expressed itself in the way my body moved. I rocked into the plant every time I felt it try to push in. Words were completely impossible, and every time I opened my mouth a little a deep moan met my ears.

A new tendril, something more forceful, pressed at my tail-hole. I'd never let a stallion go there before, but it was suddenly the best idea ever, and when I felt my sphincter squeezed into I only moaned louder.

Pressure was building inside me. Something was pushing in, pushing too against my belly from the inside. I didn't care—it felt too good to think about. Cheese, and Mac, and even Pinkie Pie (when she first got that naughty toy) were all servicing me in my head. Each of my lovers took their time and had their turn. I praised them with every breath I could.

Something reminded me I was with a plant, and not in my remembered trysts. I didn't care. If a plant could make me feel this good, how could it possibly be bad? I couldn't muster the energy to rock myself against the plant anymore. I had to be content with what the plant was doing. Contentment was my new middle name.

I'd never giggled and moaned before, even with Cheese or Pinkie, but I did now.

Something big was forced further into me. It wasn't the tendrils, but something inside them. The shape bulged around my vulva before working deeper. Breathing as deeply as I could under the circumstances, I waited for the big finale.

The passion building inside me ran white-hot. I arched my spine and squealed into the thing around my head as a mind-rattling orgasm took away all the fatigue and listlessness the plant was—was drugging me with. But even as the thought arrived it left again. I didn't care if it had drugged me, screwed me, and was now burying something inside me.

The full peak hit me and all thought ceased. The hot rush of pleasure scrubbed my mind clear of anything but the need to vocalize how happy I was with my lover. I trembled as if magic thrummed through me, and I felt my back legs finally give way and my body flop to the soft ground.

Time didn't seem to matter anymore. I was flush with excitement, but the plant wasn't done. Something was pumping into me—not like a penis pumps, like a liquid does. My belly felt bloated, then my rear too. Pressure built inside me more and more until I rolled to my side and spread my back legs a little.

Something new touched me, and touched me in a strange place. There was something excessively sensitive at my belly. The plant had done something to me—added something to me—and it felt great! I moaned again, unable to put up any defense against the thing that clamped around new flesh.

Instinct took hold, instinct I shouldn't have, and I bucked my hips like a stallion. Far from winding down after the orgasm, I felt myself working toward a new height as my hips just wouldn't stop thrusting.

Memories of Pinkie Pie pushed their way to the surface, only I was her—with that big thing hanging under me—and she had her plot in the air. When we'd had that fun, I hadn't been able to work up the nerve to try using the toy, but now I didn't need to.

I rolled back to my belly, grunted at the touch of the thing at my belly against the ground, and started humping properly. My wings started flapping in excitement, and I drove my belly into the ground again and again. Nothing would stop me, not even me.

A new peak—a new rush. I trembled in bliss as all the nerves in my body seemed to focus at my groin at the same time. A tight clenching feeling threatened to squeeze all the energy from me.

And then it did.

My whole body tensed as Pinkie Pie's vagina massaged my toy. I squealed and grunted in pure bliss as a new kind of orgasm reduced me from a thinking pony to a rutting beast. My hips worked on their own driving my belly down and forward.

Lightning struck through me repeatedly as I pushed myself forward. Then—like a switch—I became a weak, limp noodle. The power was off and Fluttershy was trying to pick up the pieces. What it was doing to me seemed amazing. And then it started again.

Pressure in my rear and vagina made me mewl into the thing clutching around my head, and when whatever was under my belly started being squeezed again, I groaned. But, my hips moved, my plot rocked, and I was very happy.

Light woke me up. I was curled in a little ball against the cool air of morning, and I felt good. The glory of waking up after a night of amazing sex was its own reward. It was hard to focus though, so I opened my eyes to look for the stallion who'd kept me company in the cave.

All around me I could see black, turquoise, and green. The plant—the plunder vine—seemed to have parts of it that had turned a more natural plant color. I reached out a shaking hoof and touched the vine. It moved.

My memories were a jumble. Pinkie Pie, Cheese Sandwich, McIntosh Apple, and even Soarin had been in the cave with me, and we had—

I opened my eyes wide, stared ahead sightlessly. Those stallions (and Pinkie Pie) hadn't been with me. I'd been here, in the cave, with the plant, alone. A shudder ran through me and I arched my spine like a cat.

Pressure, deep and great, was still inside me. I turned around and lifted my wing to look at my rear—two plant tendrils were still connected to my plot.

"Oh. No, no, no." I tried to get my hooves under me, to rise, but like a newborn foal nothing seemed to want to work together. Bracing all four legs and shoving a little at a time eventually got me to shaking legs. Then the plant squeezed.

All four of my knees locked at once. Instinct kicked me into gear, and I started to rock my hips. I started to buck.

I shouldn't have had the energy to even lift my eyelids, but some previously unknown reservoir of strength rushed through me. I was on fire with need and desire, and it felt great.

Not given much option but to ride things to the end, I felt the body-flushing flush of my female parts and the sharp clench of the—of the new bits at the same time.

Author's Notes:

This is your last chance for a question. Finale comes out later in the week!

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So I do this "Ask X" thing. X can be any pony within the story. You can ask them anything and they will definitely, hopefully reply. Keep the questions appropriate to the age-rating of the stories, and they will answer the best question in the author notes of the next chapter. The more votes a comment has the more likely I will get it to the right pony to answer. Try to keep it to one question per post! They will pick one question per chapter.

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