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Noel had lost track of the days.

He'd drifted in and out of consciousness, sometimes at day, sometimes at night. Every time he woke, his captor, a gigantic, enigmatic plant, had inexplicably emptied him of his most intimate fluids, more times than he had the energy to count. Each time he woke up, it was in a new position, wrapped in prehensile vines that would proceed to pleasurably torment him until he was a whimpering mess, and then milk him until he'd made an even bigger mess. Each time, he resisted the oncoming rush of awareness, and each time, he was rudely awakened. And now it was happening again.

How much did the accursed thing need? He felt like he'd been edged and made to cum so many times over the past few days, or weeks, or however long it had been, that surely the fluids could have fed a hundred of these perverted plants. Was it ever going to be satisfied, or was this just his life now? Trapped and helpless in a never ending embrace of sexual torment, the rest of his days spent squirming and whimpering, contained neatly within a pitcher plant bowl only barely larger than he was tall?

Noel supposed that the detached, dull feelings of dread he'd been experiencing were only so dull because of the constant stream of lightly minted fluids that the plant had been slowly oozing into him from both ends since the moment he was dragged inside. It was thanks to them, he felt, that there had been no hunger or thirst, but beyond that, it was clearly somehow keeping him both calm and aroused. Whatever it was, it was a hell of a mood leveler, and had kept him surprisingly lucid to boot.

Still, if he pretended to be asleep, the plant was like to rudely awaken him. Grumbling, Noel begrudgingly blinked himself awake properly. To his surprise, he was not suspended by vines in a novel and ass-exposing position for once, but still securely fastened to the floor of the bowl by the plant's hundreds of smaller internal vines.

Maybe... Maybe the plant hadn't realised he was awake?

He gave an experimental tug at one of his forepaws, but it was as stuck as ever. The movement caused the wiggling around him to intensify, but he was still not lifted into a milking pose. He did, however, feel movement. The vines had begun to drag him along the floor on his back, wiggling and pulling as he was turned and shifted along the bottom of the bowl.

This was new, he mused to himself as he weakly tugged at his bonds, more out of habit than expectation of freedom. His belly gurgled with the weight of the last feeding, and the sopherific effect of the fluid weighed on his limbs and soothed his fluttering heart, making it difficult to care. The starry night sky rotated into view above him, and Noel noted that the plant's seed pod stick thing was no longer visible out of the top of the pitcher. In fact, the pitcher was a little different than he remembered, the thick waxy plant visibly bent backwards, as though the seed pod sprouting out of the top of it now weighed a ton more than it had. Noel could still see the stem of the pod, which had changed colours to a lighter and transparent green, and which now visibly bulged out of the plant's flesh. It ran all the way down the wall of the pitcher, into the bowl where he was trapped, and terminated...

Noel crossed his eyes and looked up as best he could. The base of the stem was right above his head.

Noel swallowed nervously, his heartbeat beginning to race despite the plant's chemical calmness. The opening there looked uncomfortably like a mouth.

The Braixen was suddenly, keenly aware that up until this point, he'd rather taken it for granted that the plant had needed him alive. After all, a digested Braixen couldn't produce more cum. But now, as he began to urgently squirm and tug at the vines holding him in place, he could see something moving within the transparent tube. Longer vines were reaching down from some unseen point above, wiggling and slithering down towards him. A drop of slick green goo dripped out of the opening, landing on his forehead and causing him to flinch and flatten his ears.

It seemed that the 'milking' part of his relationship with this gods forsaken hell plant had reached its end.

His voice was sore and croaky from both disuse, not to mention having a thick vine filling his mouth and throat every time he woke up, but he still managed to give a reasonably loud scream as he thrashed on the spot, tugging and pulling at the vines holding him down as the other, longer vines reached the bottom of the tube and reached out of it, one of them wrapping around his neck and two more slipping under each arm. The smaller vines holding him down receded, and for the first time since he'd been dragged here, he could almost move freely! Unfortunately, at the same moment, the vines around his upper body became taught, dragging him with unbelievable strength towards the small opening at the base of the stem, which was now drooling more of the plant's minty goop as even more long tentacles began to reach out of the opening.

Fighting through the mellow numbness of the plant's many chemical secretions was a considerable effort, and being as weak and groggy as he was quickly made his yelps give way to terrified whimpering, as more vines quickly wound their way around his chest and arms, deftly plucking his forepaws out of the air as he feebly attempted to claw them away, pinning his paws to his chest. Noel flattened his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, cringing and scrabbling with his hindpaws, squirming and pulling with all his might, as the tight vines slowly but surely dragged him head first into the opening, which was barely wide enough for him to be squeezed inside.

The world became wet and tight as the strangely elastic tube closed around his face and chest, the goop inside acting as a kind of lubricant as the vines began to haul him up the tube in earnest. He kicked and thrashed, his bottom half still in open air for a few desperate moments, before the vines hauled again, sliding his body deeper into the tube, his hindlegs and tail slipping inorexably inside despite his panicked attempts to hook his legs onto the rim of the tube. It was simply too strong, the pull of the vines unfolding him with ease as the whole world turned into a tight, green, slimy tube. He squirmed, his toes and tail tip twitching in the open air for a moment as he kicked and whimpered and wiggled in the plant's grip, before he was wholly enveloped in the disgusting plant's inner workings, the slick tube squeezing him into a straight line with barely enough room to squirm. There wasn't a huge surplus of air in here, but there was enough for him to not immediately suffocate, and Noel cracked one eye open with the morbid fascination one might use to investigate their own mortal wound as he watched the bowl of the plant smoothly slide away, the vines tugging him up and along the stem of the plant as the jungle around the plant came into view for the first time in a long time.

Despite himself, or perhaps because he'd been repeatedly conditioned to associate waking up inside the plant with hours of sexual torment, his throbbing erection was pressed against the inside of the tight, slimy tube. It seemed silly to be so on edge when the plant was cleary planning on actually digesting him this time, but a small voice in the back of his mind whispered that he was trapped and helpless anyway, so why not just admit that it was nice to get squeezed all over like this, that the plant throwing him away like this tickled something deep inside him and oh god shut up shut up not like this!

He thrashed, struggling with all his might to break free, to touch himself, to do anything! Unfortunately, his forepaws were pinned to his chest by the mass of vines around his upper body, so all Noel could do was squirm, whimper, grind his cock against the smooth wall of the tube, and shut his eyes again as the vines slowly dragged him up, and back, and then down, and everything went dark.

***

Dark, and close. Much like every other time he'd woken up recently, Noel was once again a little surprised to continue to not be dead, but he wasn't going to look a gift Ponyta in the mouth. It felt like something was looking him in the mouth though, come to think of it.

A sickly sweet scent filled his nostrils, and a nectar taste filled his mouth and throat. He moved a paw to wipe his eyes, and to his surprise, found that his paw could move! Noel jolted fully awake, and immediately winced and regretted it. Something was eye wateringly deep inside of him on both ends, pincering him in place in some kind of sweet, hot, damp enclosure, large enough to fit him inside of it entirely.

He squirmed on the spot, lifting both forepaws and placing them on the familiar texture of waxy, fleshy plant material, which was inserted deeper than he'd have ever thought possible into his own maw and throat. He made a variety of wet, garbled 'Glkk' noises, huffing through his nose as he used all his strength to push the phallic appendage and the mass of plant material it was attached to up and away, and out of his throat, the mass resisting for a moment before collapsing away as though something had torn, falling away from the coughing, choking Braixen in a rush of hot, humid air and dazzling sunlight!

The light revealed... Well, if he had to describe it, Noel might have called his newest plant prison the inside of a gigantic apple. Off-white flesh surrounded him, although it was shrunken and hard, used up, and the inside of what looked like some kind of fruit skin was visible in patches, with a soft glow of sunlight visible through the skin. Noel himself had just pushed out the top half of the off axis 'apple core', with, surprisingly, himself in place of the seeds. He'd been... Placed? Inside of the plant's fruit, and now the fruit had apparently born the seeds and was rotting.

There were no vines. The sudden realization caused Noel to start again, pulling and scrabbling on the spot to dislodge himself from the other half of the core as he strained to reach the opening he'd made. Something snapped, and part of the core came away, still ear-perk inducingly deep inside of him, but he didn't give so much as a single fuck as he clawed and pulled and heaved, sliding face first out of the hole in the side of the fruit and landing in an undignified heap on the grass outside, huffing and wet and stinking of oversweet fruit and finally, finally free!

Noel scrambled to his feet, stumbling and falling flat on his face again in his frantic rush to get away from the plant, crawling the last few feet and propping himself up against a normal, actual, non-cum harvesting real tree, huffing and trembling with excitement and relief as he looked back at his former prison.

The fruit from which he had just exited gave off a rude, flatulent sound as it deflated into a pile of lumpy mush.

Behind it were three more fruits, each the size of a gigantic boulder. His eyes watered as he realised that these four fruits, half again as tall as he was, were quite literally the fruit of his loins.

Go figure that cum was a miracle grow fertiliser.

Behind them, the accursed pitcher plant was looking more or less like he had found it, save that the seed pod on top had snapped clean off at some point and was attached to the fruits, and a new growth was already poking out of the stump. His gear, notes, and backpack were still on the ground nearby, looking a little worse for wear from the humidity and elements, but otherwise undisturbed.

Noel was going to live each day of his life to the fullest from now on, be nice to strangers, donate to charities, get up earlier and watch some sunrises, and as soon as he got home, he was going to choke the Kadabra who had sent him on this insane fetch quest to death with nothing but his bare paws.

Right after he dislodged himself from the remnants of the fruit, which was still rudely poking him in the prostate.

Noel sat up, looking himself over. He was uninjured, if a little stiff and weak, but more concerningly, the core of the fruit appeared to have grown around him while he slept inside of it. Now that he had the sense of mind to examine it, it was not unlike a kind of plant harness, lightly pliant but surprisingly sturdy. A loop of the material had grown around his neck, so snug he could barely fit a pawtip between it and his throat, and from that point down it was a web of light but sturdy 'straps' that crossed along his chest and back, leading to another loop around his waist, with a thicker strap that went between his legs and split to close around the base of his tail. On the plus side, it didn't appear to weigh much, or impede his movement in any way. On the negative side, the 'strap' between his legs had a part that extended inside his rear, and every movement he made translated along the plant that was woven around him, causing the part of it that was inside of him to rub directly against his prostate.

That wasn't as concerning as the front of the strap, beneath which his sheath and cock were inescapably trapped. Noel clenched his teeth as he ran a paw over the smooth surface of the plant, which barely bulged where it was covering his cock. He might as well have been stroking a plank of wood.

The small voice in the back of his brain, which had been growing much louder and sassier over the course of his imprisonment, noted that a smooth crotch like this would complete the look, and now he'd easily pass for a female Braixen, slight of frame and wide of hip as he was.

Noel groaned, rubbing at his crotch fruitlessly and wiggling against the tree, overly conscious of the blush blooming on his cheeks as his trapped cock twitched and pulsed underneath the plate covering it. The close tightness was unlike anything else he had experienced, and there wasn't enough room in there for him to actually get hard, despite the straining of his inaccessible lewdness. To his extreme dismay, the inability to become properly hard seemed to only be flustering him further.

Noel swore, squirming on the spot, one paw weakly tugging and rubbing at the material over his crotch as he tried to pull the 'collar' off of his neck with the other paw, his curses and strained pants interspersed with quiet moans as each tug and shift caused the mass inside his rear to slowly, agonisingly fuck him. Somewhere deep inside him, the part of himself he was beginning to actively loathe casually noted that he seemed to be extremely turned on by this new, novel predicament. It suggested that ever since he'd been captured by the plant, he'd come to appreciate the joys of being filled in both ends, of slow, frustrating torment, of being edged and teased until he was frothing and incoherent with need, and then being rewarded for squirming so much with so many orgasms that by the end of it, he never wanted to cum again. Maybe there was even a part of him that was excited that having been finally ejected from the plant didn't mean the end of this period of enforced sexual torture and, and, grrrrah!

Noel growled in frustration, baring his teeth as he clawed at the straps around his chest, trying to pry one up so he could gnaw at it, thrashing on the spot as the plant fucked him with his own struggles! He just barely managed to get his teeth under one of the straps, and was about to bite down, when something brushed against his trapped, aching cock!

He yelped, the startled twitch causing him to lose his grip on the strap, and then he yelped again, as something began to touch and caress him from inside the plant-harness! He tried to paw at the strap over his crotch again and couldn't, as to his dull horror, vines had sprouted from the base of his back, where a much larger, unnoticed chunk of plant matter sat, the vines scooping up his forepaws and forcing them behind his back!

Noel kicked and squirmed, rubbing up against the tree behind his back as the plant-harness teased and stroked at his soft but aching, drooling cock, each tease causing him to loudly whimper and moan as he squirmed on the spot, clenching down and grinding against the large mass in his rear as the fucking thing edged him with the same dispassionate patience the larger plant had used! He groaned and then yelled, wordlessly bellowing his need and frustration at how fucking unfair everything was into the still jungle around him, until another two vines inevitably snuck up his back and around his shoulder, one of them slipping into his maw as the other coiled around it, holding it shut, leaving the Braixen to squirm and hump his smooth, plant covered crotch at nothing, wiggling helplessly on the ground in the shade of the tree, muffled moaning and groaning echoing through the jungle like the bellowing of a distant, wild pokemon.

***

Noel finished his ale with the air of someone who was determined to forget everything that had ever happened, slamming the empty tankard back down on the bar as he gasped for air.

"That's a hell of a story, kid."

"I asked for another drink, not your opinion."

The bartender, a Meowstic of middle age, high skepticism, and low scruples, pulled another ale and placed it on the bar. The Braixen in the large hooded cloak might be full of shit, and twitched for no reason at random intervals, but his gold was real.

"So, this... Fuckplant seed." The Meowstic rolled the word around in his mouth. The fellow was creative, if nothing else.

"Best I can tell, it still likes, nnfh, p-precum as its preferred food source. According to what's left of my notes, it'll survive off of that and daily baths until I take it where it needs to go, then it'll finally let me go and I can pretend this whole fucking thing never happened." He took another determined pull at the new ale, now visibly intoxicated. "Nine days. Nine fucking days, I was in that thing. I ain't ever getting that time back."

"So now you're hitchhiking and travelling back to this... Professor Kadabra, so that he can remove the seed and, what... Sell it? Keep it as a pet?"

"I don't fucking know, and as long as he pays the reward money he can feed himself to it for all I care."

"And, how much money would that be?" The Meowstic glanced meaningfully from the Braixen to several of his regulars, who were watching the foul mouthed, drunken pokemon with the keen interest of ruffians who smelled easy money.

Noel told him.

"That's an unbelievable amount of money."

"Fair compensation for services rendered!" Noel slammed his paw on the bar again. "'M undercharging, if you-fffuhhh, if you ask me!"

One of the regulars, a Gallade with a penchant for violence, silently slipped up behind Noel and introduced what was unmistakably a knife against what felt like the small of Noel's back, although the Braixen appeared to be wearing some kind of armour underneath the cloak.

The Meowstic smiled. "What'dyasay you tell us all about this really valuable seed of yours, then maybe hand over the rest of that gold you've been flashing since you stumbled in here, son?"

Noel chuckled hoarsely, taking another swig of ale. Behind him, the Gallade gave a strangled choke and lifted off of the ground, the knife clattering to the floor as they struggled to pull something away from their throat.

"Well for starters, the first thing I found out about it is that the seed really doesn't like me or anyone else messing with its food source."

***

Later that night, after paying for the damages to the bar and assuring the baffled local watchmon that he'd trashed the place and beaten a half dozen pokemon into unconsciousness with nothing but his bare paws 'in self-defense', Noel flopped exhaustedly onto the softest bed money could buy at the other, much less dangerous inn in town.

He was looking forward to getting some sleep. Once the day was properly done, the seed was kind enough to lay off its torment long enough for him to get most of a solid eight hours, so long as he remembered to have a bath and let the damn thing soak up some water. He'd figured that out pretty quickly, as the seed had a very persuasive way of suggesting it was thirsty. Noel wasn't sure exactly how wide the seed inside of him could expand, but it was wide enough to make him get out of bed and draw a bath even at 2 in the gods forsaken morning when he was trying to sleep.

That was about the speed of their symbiotic relationship. As long as he 'behaved', the seed was nice enough to let him go about his business, as long as his business didn't involve touching himself in any way or, weirdly, staying in the same place for too long. The notes suggested that the seed would continue to snack on his desperate, frustrated fluids and prompt him to travel, perhaps as some kind of method of propagation, but neglected to tell him how far he'd have to go to satisfy the seed's wordless directive.

In his quieter moments, Noel worried if perhaps he had fallen too easily into the habit of doing whatever was 'asked' of him by the seed. Habits were, after all, quite difficult to break. He'd probably be bathing before sleep for the rest of his life. Sleep sounded pretty nice about now, and he tried to relax on top of the bed, working on a theory that if he passed out quickly enough, the seed would just leave him to it.

Moments later, the unmistakable pressure of multiple vines coiling around him caused him to jolt back out of half slumber. He groaned weakly, equal parts excited and filled with dread as to what was coming next.

Apart from the passive, gentle teasing the seed tormented him with over the course of a given day, which caused him to yip and stutter like a fool, garnering him all manner of odd looks as he tried to conduct his business, the seed had also settled into a steady routine of torment before bed.

Usually it just edged him, although every few nights when it clearly had enough pre stored up and Noel was finding it difficult to focus on anything or not openly rub his crotch and whimper in public, it was nice enough to switch from endlessly teasing him to relentlessly milking him for cum. What was worse, regardless of if it let him cum or not, it appeared to notice and make note of which techniques were best for arousing the Braixen, so each time it further adapted its technique and refined its approach, each night more masterfully able to bring him to the edge and then dangle him there without relief. The accidental orgasm from the third night was now a distant, toe curling memory.

Noel shivered, squirming on the bed as the vines rapidly set about his person. It had been days since the seed had last let him cum. If it wasn't for the agonising overstimulation which invariably followed his infrequent releases, he'd almost be excited to be milked.

His insides squeezed down on the seed inside of him, which now felt like such a natural part of him that his growing collection of private fears included a suspicion that even if he did manage to ever get rid of the seed, he might need to take measurements and have a replica made. Certainly, none of the jerking off he'd done a lifetime ago on the way to the jungle had resulted in such awe inspiring, fur raising orgasms.

Naturally, his paws were already secured behind his back, and the plant had figured out a number of his sexual preferences that prior to this trip, even he hadn't been aware of. It affixed his hindpaws, spread, to the posts at the base of his bed, as another stretched from the 'collar' around his neck to the head of the bed, anchoring him firmly to the mattress with only a little room to squirm. A sheath of flattened out vine reached up and closed around his snout in a kind of muzzle, humiliatingly similar to one might find on a wild, feral Pokemon, as a vine was forced through the opening in the front and deep into his maw, and more of them coiled tightly around his chest and belly, squeezing him tightly as he squirmed on the spot.

Apparently, he had a strong fetish for being helpless like this, the evidence of which was finally let loose as the strap around his crotch parted, letting his aching cock spring to attention as the material squeezed back around at the base of his knot, causing him to shiver and squirm on the bed! The seed, that is to say, the actual seed part of it which was deep inside him, began to move, fucking him rather than just pressing against his prostate, and a half dozen smaller vines reached up to tease and gently stroke at Noel's cock, while one of them lightly attached itself to his cocktip and began to drink the copious fluids that were drooling from it.

Noel whimpered weakly, trying to thrust at the vines as they perfectly kept pace with his movements, as he knew they would.

He wasn't sure which would be worse. Another agonizing round of endless teasing and edging, or another round of a dozen forced orgasms, until he was completely drained of cum.

Either way, it was not up to him at the moment, and wouldn't be until the long trek home was done.

The only thing he hated more than all plants, everywhere, was how turned on this humiliating mistreatment made him. He hated it, he hated himself for being so turned on by it, he hated the vine in his maw even as he serviced it with his tongue and swallowed the small amounts of minty fluid it produced, furiously groaning and squirming for his captor, knowing that even if he did get to cum tonight, it wouldn't be for a while yet.