The Garden (F/H/S Human/Centaur)
Story by Yeania Aeon
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1bkcYICAcJW0t4tqOmHwMwuRllDaZ5tmFB4hAgC9CsPc/edit?usp=sharing
The Garden
Helen was taking a walk in the forest. She had heard from the old lady back in her village of a mystical garden deep in the forest. For all their talk of the dangers in the woods, the elders never mentioned a garden hidden deep inside of the forest. The old lady had warned about going there, but Helen`s curiosity got the better of her as she ventured off the path and deeper into the woods.
Helen was your average girl, clad in basic leather armor over a simple tan undergarment. Before long, she realised there were a lot of horses just milling around her as she made her way into a small clearing. In it, she found the garden. Helen looked at the majestic gate before slowly touching it
âI wonder who maintains this,â she said as her hand ran slowly along the finely wrought iron gate, âthere is no sign of age or wear on this gate.â
She pushed open the heavy gate, which did not even squeak, and walked through into the garden. Taking a look around, she noticed the flowers were unlike anything she had seen before. They looked... strange. As she stared at them, Helen realized what the flowers resembled and blushed slightly. Some of the flowers resembled vaginas on stalks and some others looked like penises, but at the same time they were definitely flowers.
Helen kept walking, her thoughts on the perverse foliage occupying her mind. She looked around but she could not find any sign of someone taking care of the place. Helen even looked in the little garden shack, but it was empty. The only remains of people she could find was a lot of torn clothing, discarded armor, and weapons lying around near the outer hedges. Some of the gear seemed to be very old.
Helen wandered through the garden for hours as she kept coming back to the flower patch with penis-like flowers, as if she was drawn to it. She shook her head as she looked around and started to gather the cloth scraps and littered gear that laid around the garden, and placed all the gear she could find into the shed. It had taken her several thankless hours, but the garden looked much better.
Wiping a stray droplet of sweat, she looked through the gate and noticed a couple horses had gathered. The horses stomped their feet and seemed agitated that she was disturbing the garden. Helen knew they wanted her to leave, but she found herself thinking back to the penile-looking flowers. The young adventurer dared a glance, watching them gently wave in the wind. Warmth blossomed between her legs. She glanced around, other than the horses she was alone. Shrugging her shoulders, she removed the codpiece from her pants. The small amount of cool air that got in was a stark contrast to her growing heat.
Helenâs eyes caught something in the patch as she admired the flowers. It was an old rusted knife she must had missed cleaning up. It was quite deep in the flower patch, so she carefully stepped into it to grab the knife. One of the flowers, however, brushed against the front of her pants as she moved, but Helen lacked her codpiece. Before she could even think twice, she let out a gasp as the flower pushed past her loincloth and penetrated her moist vagina.
A moan rung out as she reached down in panic, trying to pull the flower out from her slit. All that seemed to do was encourage the plant. It started to thrust into her in small pulses. She panted and tried to fight the flower with all her might. What it was doing felt good, but wrong at the same time. Helen did not want this thing inside of her, but the thrusting flower was relentless. It didn't take long before Helen cried out in ecstasy, climaxing around the flower. Despite the floating afterglow, she knew something solid was shot into her vagina.
Helen felt her gut wrench, making her double over in pain. She looked down at the flower stuck inside of her. At first she thought it was finally satisfied. She gasped as it slipped past her lips. But the flower was far from finished. It shot forward again, the hole at the tip latched onto h
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