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Sunlight shined through the clean windows, providing warmth and delicious energy for the flowers and plants in the hothouse. The summer had passed, as well as fall, but the temperature inside the structure of painted steel and glass remained temperate. Pleasing even for southern plants.

Even the most exotic, mystic, and enlivened that could thrive on Earth.

However, only a select few could see through the mists of England and cross the veil separating the common from the world of magic and spirits. And fewer were those invited within the tiny cottage bordering the hothouse.

The building was relatively small, quaint, and cozy to the eye, with its stone walls bordering the property. Its facade was peppered with climbing vines and casement windows, most concealed by curtains to avoid any peeping.

Especially the latter as its owner and sole inhabitant at the moment possessed a terrible habit.

His steps were heavy on the laboratory's wooden floor, sonorous notes occurred within the eclectic room. Mettle of vials, alembics, mortar and pestles, jars, and other containers. All should have been ordained and placed on shelves depending on their names, nature, importance, and effects... Same as the books relating to alchemy, chemistry, summoning, and other arcanums. The room's window had been curtained, allowing only the faintest light to exist: from a bunsen burner whose blue flames warmed a container full of a bubbling liquid.

But the one who had prepared the concoction peered into one book, following the few anatomical pointers describing a human's inner idiosyncrasies with each organ linked to a set of plants or beast's parts.

With a finger, he traced the arrow and followed it to a set of herbs... Licorice, Asparagus Racemosus. Two plants he tapped with his claw before he looked and rummaged through his collection. The licorice was easy to retrieve, the second had awfully limited stocks. It had become arduous to procure the latter. And its uses were... peculiar.

"Perhaps later," mused the Magus, his voice rumbling and his fiery red eyes dancing over the bubbling becker as he added the last ingredient and stirred the concoction. Carefully, he reduced the flames.

"Good... Good."

The liquid began to change color while stirred: from translucent to pale blue, then green. It shifted ever so slowly until it stopped at a blue coloration hued by a pink touch that shafted in intensity before the eye. The liquid... The preparation was ready.

"Perfect. I should keep notes for later," mused the individual as he picked the becker off the flame without a complaint despite the glass' scalding temperature. He picked it up, agitated it... Then emptied it whole within that large skull he possessed as a mouth, his tongue swirling as the cloying substance wrapped and permeated his mouth before descending into his throat.

Elias Ainsworth had never been one to go for such expedient actions.

The reclusive Magus, with all his strange antics and habits, was a man of patience and thoughtful motivation. However, that day did not allow for precautions. Once emptied, he put the becker aside and turned to push away the curtains and enlighten the room. To the world, he revealed how the tidy laboratory had become a meddle of displayed books, half-cut ingredients, spilled Erlenmeyer flasks. Should one familiar eye see it, Elias would have been punished or admonished.

"... I shall clean it up later," he mumbled, his voice low and coarse as he stepped away from the light.

His naked feet explored the wooden surface and then the mat. His lacking eyes darted at the closed doors leading to the guestrooms, the oil paintings, the delicate flower arrangement made by Silky. In a way, this floor... No, the house looked dormant despite Elias stepping through it, his skull-like face pointing in one or another direction. Even his ungloved hands, his brown skin, were on the wooden trim, then the banister. Perhaps, when Silkie returned from her errands, he would ask her for a proper meal.

It would be enough... But he sought to conclude his latest project. Otherwise, all the called-off meetings and invitations in the last three weeks would have been in way... If someone was to know.

"What a troublesome thought," muttered the Magus, descending the stairs with nothing to cover himself but a white cotton bathrobe.

His large shoulders, his broad chest, his limber body, even his defined pectorals, all were concealed under the textile while he progressed through the ground floor, stepping on the painted tiles.

But not towards the kitchen, the living room, the library.

In his wake, droplets fell. Drip. Drip. Drip

They followed and trailed him, little droplets at a time whose earthy perfume filled the house with its pungent touch. And then... The hothouse.

A little garden adjacent and different from the others built on the property. Elias had prepared that one for rare reagents... And lately, for his project. He glanced at the various shrubs, heavy and bending under their own weight, and the flowers of variegated colors.

Red, yellow, blue, purple, their hues nearly hid the price he had been looking for, kept away in the hindermost corner of the hothouse... Near a cushioned seat Elias had been enjoying much. There stood a large flower with red oblong petals supported by strong sepals. Along its rugged green stem formed thorns concealing a long tubular system housing most of the plants' reproductive organs. Its pistils and stamens had disappeared and retracted in the depths a day or two ago... It was ready.

"This is good," mumbled Elias, picking up the seat to scoot it closer to the plant. In so, he ignored the dripping that followed each of his movements until he turned and faced his project anew. His digits moved, his claws carefully undid the belt until the bathrobe opened and sprung to life Elias'... Manhood.

A term he found endearing despite not being a human nor a fay... But he had been gifted that part from mankind that permitted reproduction, but in different proportions. Between his legs, his testicles hung and swayed heavily, two large orbs contained in leather and loose scrotum. Their size, they could be compared to oranges, and their scent was... heady, even after a long perfumed bath.

Further above was where the anomaly was divulged. Instead of an uncut shaft like any other human, the Magus sported a fiendish sheath. From its folds grew and pushed his cock, burnt umber-colored. A veiny shaft whose length was accommodating to the equine species over humankind. It possessed a flared end, a median ring, and its width was equal from the base to the tip despite the slight widening around the glans' corona. And on the head was the urethra, its aperture swollen and dripping with that thick but translucent fluid. It was warm, tacky, pungent, with a salty taste.

But never before had Elias produced such an amount, and he was pleasantly satisfied with the result of his last batch.

Already, the heat and energy from his preparation spread across his prostate and cock, scrotum, and even perineum. He was not accustomed to such drive and energy but mostly recognized the patterns and localizations of such spikes.

Such spots of stress had spread across his lower belly.

"Hmmm... How should I proceed... perhaps, this?" he mumbled to himself, pushing the bathrobe aside before he extended his hand against his shaft.

"Warm. Hmm... I'll see if it was not excessive," he said.

In his palm throbbed his manhood. The veins pressed against his fingers while his index and thumb wrapped below the median ring, the rest encompassing the lower side. The sensation was... Surprisingly enticing for the Magus. Steam escaped from his opened mouth and his skull's nostrils, his phantasmal red eyes observing the broad cocktip and the liquid dripping from it.

Soon, globs of the aromatic substance formed at the egress of the urethra, their color slightly tinged with white before their weights dragged them down. They dropped, replaced by more of that pre-seminal fluid he produced in an ample amount.

He passed a hand over his lower belly, just above his cock, and onto the naked skin, prodding the skin until he stroked the over-swollen prostate. His preparation ensured his organs were primed and ready, warm and producing enough fluids for his project. But the sensation was far more intense than any of his earlier tentative. And his... Oh. He descended his digits to get a hold of his testicles. The gonads were not swollen like in the previous trials, but their warmth was intense, and the slightest touch sent a shiver through the Magus's spine.

"The conditions... Should be perfect now," he whispered.

He looked at the bloom, at the opening inside the receptacle formed by the fusion of sepals and the pedicel, joined to protect the flower's reproductive system. With one hand, he grabbed one of the petals. He stepped closer, his pointed shaft neared close to the plant and remained above the opening.

Then... He squeezed his cock, rubbed his thumb along the side above as if he strained the fluid from it. And more globs of pre-seminal fluid escaped, dropped, fell into the plant.

For a moment, the Magus stood there with his manhood in hand, almost like a deviant masturbating over a flower. His jaw was opened, his tongue almost out. His eyes were fixated.

Was it enough? Was it good? Would the experience be aborted?

But not, it did not. Not as the receptacle seemingly clenched and the petals stretched outward. The receptacle's aperture widened until the stamens' remnants: long green tendrils whose tips were elongated... And suddenly motile.

"Ah, good," mumbled Elias as he observed those tendrils motion as if for the first time... And they did, their rigid form breaking to embrace a more elastic, supple, and prehensile disposition.

They extended onward, above, until their warm and soft surface reached for the Magus' corona. Elias lowered his fingers, keeping them below his median ring while the tendrils seemed to huddle together to grasp his cock and guide it down.

"Slowly... Slowly," he mumbled, watching for the plant's reaction. But no, the flower seemed perfectly fine by Elias's course of action.

No, they were even encouraged to push further. The tendrils moved and taped the soft, burnt-umber skin at the end. Some wrapped themselves the upper parts of his length, but no lower. They were keeping their hold onto the upper end and examined... Tested. Ensured Elias' cock was adequate.

"I'm... Ready. It can be done."

Previous attempts had failed at that stage, pushing Elias back days, if not months... He dreaded if he had to wait once more.

But no. He would not have to.

The tendrils inched closer to his urethra, teased the skin inside. Already, Elias felt the burnt sensation spread inside the orifice, emanating from the cocktip. And... They pushed inside. The tendrils forced their way inside, rolling and coiling on themselves to dig further while those on the outer edge massaged against the skin to keep the urethra open. Such a marvelous reactive reaction, Elias noted in a part of his mind.

He could not deny the sensation inside him, the oddity of the rolling and twisting happening inside his throbbing cock. Nor the strange fullness that came whenever his pulse pushed more blood inside his organ, at a heightening and quickening pace. More so as the sensation became more intense and started to encompass his whole cock. The tendrils had prodded deep, and their presence bulged the skin from below. Enough so he could feel their twisting inside his shaft. This... This was so intense.

"Do... Do it," he muttered while glancing at the flower and watching for more tendrils to come up.

But not yet... None left the receptacle. The stamens had not reached the base of his cock and beyond the sheath. But they were there... Almost. Just.

"Hhhh!" groaned the Magus, his legs twitching and his lower belly twinging. His bladder was inflamed, too, as he felt the tendril prod beyond the sheath and into the prostate. The... The sensation, electric and intense, was mind-numbing.

He nearly dropped to his knees but managed to control himself. To the limit.

He kept enough control not to fall, yet bend. Enough not to cry, yet drool.

His manhood burned with the intensity of a blaze. Further, the blaze turned into a current that sent spasms and contractions through his bowels and prostate. He... He was almost reaching the orgasm. But it would be impossible.

His prostate was invaded from the inside, and stretched from within in ways he could not have experienced but by exploring its inner workings. It was a crushing instance. The organ agonizingly attempted to contract to send a spew of fluids outward. But could not. Not when the tendrils coiled and forced onward... And also divided themselves to invade his privacy in a torture of unknown pain.

They pushed... Again. Even when his legs trembled and his body shivered. The tendrils would not wait any further: they needed to explore, to ensure everything was perfectly fit for their roles. So, they pushed. Therefore, Elias endured, his burning eyes extinguished as he fought against the need to lean or bend. Any further, the flower could have perceived it as an act of aggression.

"This... Is taking longer than expected. Is... This my body?"

Amidst the overwhelming pain and trickling pleasure, Elias tried to remember. Usually, the plant's prodding took a matter of seconds. Potentially, with the difference in size and body, it had to take longer? Would the complexity of this form hinder the experience?

If so, he- The Magus gasped. Air rushed in his mouth and lugs as he sensed the tendrils suddenly go up, turn, and go down. Down somewhere the Magus was unsure how humans could endure it.

His scrotum clenched, the skin tensed as the sensation within the cords intensified. The... The tendrils were inside his scrotum, forcing their way and tormenting the nerve endings there. To his mind... It was an assault, akin to a hit or an attack.

But the tendrils moved gently, he could... He could almost see them as they finally descended beneath the skin. And along came their fluids, their oozing fluids.

Already, the pain and contraction in his prostate diminished, and so the one in the vas deferens. The plant's toxin were already spreading and attenuating the pain in his nethers. His muscles relaxed, the suffering receded, the sensation...

"Ah, finally. I could not... Endure it any further," moaned Elias as he felt the prickling in his gonads disappear too.

Before his eyes, reopening and blinking, the crucial part of the experience unfurled and stretched out from the bottom of the flower's receptacle. The stamens were the male parts and worked to prepare the host... Even now, the fluids were slowly spreading within the widened vas deferens, repurposing them. The tunnels would be magically stretched while his testicles were fed with more of that altering substance. Their warmth... Increased, and the scrotum relaxed, too, letting the two orbs hang loosely.

However, this was only the stamens' doing. It was now the moment the stigma ascended from the receptacle. It looked akin to a tendril, too, but broader at the tip with a round opening closed by a cap. Downward was a lumpy pouch along the tendril, a bulging presence with round shapes beneath the surface. Below, lay another pouch, and so on. It repeated until it disappeared in the receptacle, not to be seen.

"This... is it," whispered Elias. The tendrils on his cocktip forced further, stretching his urethra further to allow room for the stigma. The last part and the most crucial part. Elias exhaled, focusing on the tendril approaching. Its cap had moved, but its tip had contracted. It was ready...

The Magus held his breath, locked his knees, pushed back the bathrobe that threatened to rub against his genitals. And it entered.

The tendril pushed inside his urethra.

He could have cried if it was not dangerous for the experiment's continuity. But he smiled. As much as his skull could allow it.

He exhaled.

The tendril did not wait any further and plunged within his rigid cock, forcing its way into the lubricated orifice until the pouch rubbed against the Magus' urethra. At that instant, the pain had receded and remained the pleasure, especially the tendrils' touch. It excited him, made his cock throb with anticipation.

Already, one of the orb slid off the pouch and rolled inside his cock. The contractions from the plant were delightful now as the tip extended down to his prostate's threshold, kept open by the stamens.

"Do... Do it," he mumbled.

And it did.

The cap opened wide, the tip relaxed. And the first seed, the first "egg" from the plant, rolled inside his prostate in a thunderous pleasure. The organ could not contract and had been numbed to the pain. But not the pleasure as the egg formed by the plant rolled and stayed put at the entrance, one foot on each side.

Then... A second series of contractions and another egg pushed the first further inside Elias' body.

Oh... It was... Odd. Oddly pleasing. Oddly exciting. At this moment, Elias understood why the beasts only fought a second against the plant's impregnation. Now... he knew why some were gripping and humping the petals like rabid creatures.

His mind ran through the pleasure perceived from the eggs rolling. And another spark came. A third egg, rolling, pushing, tumbling. Like a domino, it had ejected the first egg higher and deeper into the prostate.

"This... This is pleasant," he mumbled to himself while the stamens contracted to open the organ wider, helped by the plant's ooze. The fourth came, so was the fifth. But the first egg did not go further this time, this was the maximum the eggs could push on their own. The stamens then contracted, alternating. Four in tandem, four inside, but only different portions contracting simultaneously. Deeper, deeper, so much deeper. They forced the eggs along, the seeds of that plant that kept coming. The pouch against Elias' cocktip had diminished. But another bulge had moved upward and was about to replace it and rub against the Magus' manhood.

Now... Now.

Elias' lust-addled mind weakly answered to the pleasure. He grasped the base of the shaft with his whole hand. He squeezed it delicately from the top to the bottom... He squeezed it as he followed the movement of the egg inside, pushing it faster until it collided with its peers. Heading those further up toward the contracting stamens... Those pushed it higher in his prostate. Until it went beyond the organ and separated... And fell.

The first egg fell. A shiver shook Elias to his core as he sensed his vas deferens being stretched further. The tunnel had been repurposed, and at its end was... A sort of structure, a receptacle for the eggs, a hold to protect them inside his testicles that had become warmly pleasing.

Another egg fell in the other gonad. And so on, the plant pushed... The eggs were pushed, dragged, falling. Pushed, dragged, falling. Pushed, dragged, falling.

Shivers overtook Elias' nethers as the waves of pleasure invaded his body. Less intense than an orgasm, but regular... More regular and faster if he so desired.

"Oh... Oh my," he openly mumbled, reaching for his mouth to keep it close. If anyone were to see him, they'd thought of him as a pervert... But... Was it wrong? Would they be wrong to judge him?

Slowly, Elias leaned back and lowered himself. The tendrils followed, all too eager to use their host even though his cock had been lowered.

Finally, he sat.

His legs spread. His testicles hung lower and lower by the second as more seeds were pushed inside. His breath tensed as his body tried to keep up with the jolt and the sudden heave whenever one of those fell into his genitals.

Never before had he felt something so intense, so delicious. The Magus masturbated himself, but no semen moved forth; only the strangest sensation, the opposite of an ejaculation. Yet... Perfect. His eyes closed, his tongue slipped out, followed closely by his saliva.

He was bred and filled by a plant laying its eggs within his genitalia... And he masturbated to it, squeezing from the top to the base as he force-fed his equine cock with that seed. And his gonads, too.

His gonades, too, were feeling better. By the end of it, they would be round and the scrotum taut, shaped by the eggs' presence. More seminal fluid would come, flooding that pouch, and then... Then ... Then... When his testicles would be full and ready, he would finally give birth to something. He would finally understand what it meant to give life. Perhaps he would get why humans were so interested in possessing a family.

For now, he stroked. He masturbated as he reclined and enjoyed his testicles swinging at each movement, full of life colliding against itself. More eggs would come from the plants; it had been a fortuitous year.

And Elias... Would enjoy every second of that miracle. Squeezing, pushing, helping those eggs in their course. Perhaps he could do this regularly.