{"sf1_id":2003292,"sf2_id":"7ej57GG1","title":"All Photographs of Flowers are Pornography","author":"MalicTheWriter","words":386,"posted_at":"2023-06-17T00:13:00.000Z","tags":["Bee","Bug","Feral","Flower","Insect","Transformation","Transgender"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2003292-all-photographs-of-flowers-are-pornography","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/7ej57GG1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/f3/a2/f3a258e7-bad2-4e30-aefb-1a4ebf83dbab","description":"Just a little idea I've had floating around my head for a time. Given the overtly sexual nature of the world it can be surprising how prudish we can be as a species. Maybe there's an unchecked power to the shame. As though a wild and reckless repression and the outbursts that follow from it have gotten our species where it is now, wherever that might bee, but who knows.\nAnyway, I've opened up commissions again after a half year's hiatus. Be sure to hit me up if you would like to work with me","content":"All Photographs of Flowers are Pornography\n\n(a Bee transformation poem)\n\nBy malicthewriter\n\n  \n  \n\nHere upon the roads worn side,\n\nA flower starts its bloom.\n\nI lean to glean its scented hide,\n\nTo vanish all my gloom.\n\n  \n\nMuch more soon changed with me,\n\nI can feel it in my bones.\n\nAs I smell myself away to glee\n\nThose bones grow quite alone.\n\n  \n\nSeldom now and fewer soon,\n\nMy body shrinks down greatly.\n\nDistracted with my need to swoon,\n\nMy size diminishes hastily.\n\n  \n\nInto the flower I soon crawl,\n\nClothes behind unneatly.\n\nDesperately I yearn to scrawl,\n\nA plea placed quite discreetly.\n\n  \n\nA yearning just an inch tall now,\n\nSo powerful its true.\n\nI hope this poem finds someone somehow,\n\nIt's from bee to you.\n\n  \n\nFor shirked completely was my form,\n\nAnd all around I heard the buzz;\n\nOf sisters now I called my swarm,\n\nBlack and yellow showed my fuzz.\n\n  \n\nSister bee I was set free,\n\nMy body gone, sex too.\n\nUpon the flower deliberately\n\nInsect urge indulged, true.\n\n  \n\nEvery mote of petalled spunk\n\nStuck on my fuzzy hind,\n\nNear shattered by the bliss I thunk\n\nOf pleasure in lost mind.\n\n  \n\nBetter than even sex this was,\n\nI licked deep into the stamen.\n\nOf flowers' pleasure I soon thrust,\n\nMy body, to the day's end.\n\n  \n\nFor twice upon the petal's fold,\n\nI came and came again;\n\nFor a flower's pleasure take full hold\n\nAnd have you muttering your amens.\n\n  \n\nSex with flowers, how truly vulgar.\n\nIt all felt so obscene.\n\nOur I rolled, my eyes a bulger,\n\nUpon the green I reem.\n\n  \n\nBack inside I soon return,\n\nHungry for feelings so surrene.\n\nEngorged genetalia, I did learn,\n\nA flower's form and function gleaned.\n\n  \n\nOf virile queendom I did lack,\n\nYet desire refocused, in lieu,\n\nInto the flower I rest my back,\n\nIf only I could show you.\n\n  \n\nThe pleasure of life goes far and wide,\n\nAcross great gulfs it's shared,\n\nFor subtly sensible after the ride\n\nThe flower's pleasure, so deeply layered.\n\n  \n\nI couldn't believe it, this didn't feel true\n\nThe pleasure so grand and boundless\n\nMere manhood traded to Earth, overdue,\n\nOf all such pertinent profoundness.\n\n  \n\nI had no idea how erotic a bee could be,\n\nMy sisters all spurred me on.\n\nAnd though break I took upon the tree\n\nMy sense of shame? Now gone.\n\n  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \n  \n  \n  \n\n"}