Chapter Seventeen - The Last
While the two girls slept, Trixie was let out for her milking. She crawled along the corridor to her stall in the parlour and shuffled her way in. The leg spreader boards were now quite an obstacle for her pendulous tummy and it was a squeeze to get in place.
Soon she was connected up and happily sucking on her feeding tube; a huge prick was ploughing her flaccid fanny and she was a contented young cow.
Her orgasms now started within a couple of minutes and would continue one after the other until the bull serving her chose to pull out. The looser her fanny became the longer he took and the more orgasms she had to endure. She was probably just cresting her sixth orgasm when a sharp pain in her chest put all the lights out.
Poor Trixie had served her time on the island and her punishment was over. She died happily with a prick in her pussy, an orgasm in her brain and her tits being milked; what a way to go.
Later, the two farm hands that had spent the last six months serving her; managed to remove the body from the stall and took it away on a barrow for a quiet 'burial' in the pig sty. After a few weeks, nothing would remain of poor Trixie; she had never existed.
Isabella was roaming the gardens during her exercise periods now. She had lost her wimple many months ago and now, the sun was warm on her naked body. She strolled through the orchard and past the 'private' garden.
To her mind, the 'private' garden just appeared to be a bunch of trees and some grass; not that she could see much over the wall that surrounded it. A wooden door prevented access and it was always locked. A notice by the door said "Danger Keep Out" which intrigued her and piqued her insatiable curiosity. At the end of the main Abbey gardens, another door led through to the fields and the farm, this was locked and only Ruth and Fay carried a key to allow access to their work.
Isabella would wander round, soaking in the sun, smelling the flowers and listening to the birds. All too quickly the bell would ring and she would have to return to her cell.
The following day Fay was at the farm working with Dorothy and Daisy; both were quite docile now and allowed to share a stable unfettered. Fay knew that the two were fucking each other; but what the hell? Their breasts were growing bigger as the hormone treatment kicked in.
Daisy's teats were massive and Ruth watched as she tried to relieve some of the pressure from the growing milk supply; tomorrow she would be introduced to the milking parlour. Fay could already imagine the suction cups gently pulling on the teats and drawing the milk into the big glass jar. With two 'cows' she would be able to satisfy all of her thirsty customers at the Monastery.
Fay had lined up a couple of male servants to act as the bulls for the new girls. The new girls were too good for a rough old farm hand.
The bulls had no idea who they were fucking or what their function was. All that the servants saw was the rear end of two girls; they could have been servants for all they knew. They couldn't see the milking; just two nice juicy cunts being offered on a plate, as it were. One of the servants was Tom and the other was Peter.
Dorothy was already spraying her milk and the girls were using each other to relieve the pressure. It was so cute to look into the stable and watch one girl suckling the other.
They had also started to relieve each other in a different way and if they weren't sucking nipple they could be found sucking pussy. The girls would often sleep in each other's arms.
Fay thought that these girls would be perfect dairy stock. Her mind continued the analogy and she actually started to wonder what the cuts of meat might taste like, suitably grilled. She quickly dismissed the thought from her mind; that was gross.
The Abbess opened the safe in her office and removed a large rusty iron key; she slipped it into the pocket of her habit and closed the safe. The sun was shining brightly and she suspected that the 'tree of life' would be in full blossom now. She walked out of her French windows and into the garden; it was a lovely day. In the hours before Isabella's exercise period, the garden was out of bounds to everyone, except the Abbott and Abbess. Even Ruth and Fay had to time their trips between Abbey and farm to ensure that Isabella had absolutely no contact with anyone.
Once in the garden, the Abbess slipped a mask over her nose and she inhaled the pungent aroma from the oils which it had been soaked in. The fumes cleared her sinuses and masked all other smells as she approached the 'private garden'. She unlocked the gate and stood framed in the entrance; she gazed upon a sight that so few had ever seen. Within the confines of the wall which surrounded the garden were a series of trees set in a grassy meadow. The grass was tended by a small flock of sheep who ambled around cropping the tufts as if their life depended on it. The trees were all of different sizes; the tree in the centre was a mature specimen; those around it were younger.
Even the Abbess didn't know the name of the tree it seemed to be a cross between a willow and a magnolia; a single large white blossom hung from the tree. The ancient limbs were sprouting wands of willow like stems which grew upwards, reaching for the sky. Perhaps in the old days these would be harvested to make materials for basket weaving or sticks to be lashed into a broom.
No, she decided, they were too supple for a broom but they were slender enough and long enough for weaving. The Abbess left the 'private garden' and neglected to either close the door or lock it. She returned to her study; removed the mask and threw it into her waste paper basket.
Fay and Ruth had to lunch at the farm because of the Isabella embargo; Fay particularly had no wish to come face to face with her rapist. They ate their sandwiches and went through to the stable. The two girls eyed them up as they sat on the straw. Fay walked over to Dorothy and raised her own tabard.
"Lick me," she commanded.
Ruth approached Daisy with her nun's habit hoisted high.
"Taste my pussy," she ordered.
The two girls set to work with a will. By now they were compliant and sex starved; any opportunity for a bit of fun helped to while away the hours.
The lock on Isabella's cell turned and the door swung open. She knew that there would be no-one there to speak to. She walked out of her cramped cell, through another door and into the fresh air. The blazing sunlight hurt her eyes and she could feel the warmth on her body. She turned slowly like a rotisserie, soaking up the heat.
She always walked the perimeter of the garden first; it gave her a chance to stretch her cramped legs. Then she would circumnavigate the wall of the 'private garden' which was contained inside the Abbey garden. It was just a routine that she had built up because she didn't like wandering aimlessly.
She could hear the birds singing and the bleating of the sheep as they cropped the grass. Butterflies were beginning to visit the flowers and they were particularly attracted to the Buddleia.
Buddleia Davidii she thought; named after her one time lover David. If only she had kept to the rules, she thought. Why could she not have been satisfied with shagging David and playing with her slave Annie? Perhaps if she had treated them better, she might not be in this predicament.
She was deep in thought. Mentally she tried to list all her regrets as she took her walk. She agreed that it had been wicked to take the girl Fay's maidenhead and then try to cover it up. Once the girl had been initiated, Isabella could have had as much of her pussy and tongue as she had wanted.
As a Savant she could have whatever she wanted, within reason. But, she could not resist the temptation to pluck this particular rose.
One of the flowers was in bloom somewhere. She could smell the strong scent as it wafted over the breeze; tempting passing insects to drop by and pollinate. Gosh, the scent was strong and it made her feel excited. How could a mere smell engender such feelings in a woman? She still couldn't see the source when she happened on the open door of the 'private garden'.
Time to explore, she thought; as she pushed the door open. She was doing it again. It was in her very nature to ignore the words 'private' and 'danger' because she was a rebel at heart.
She saw the group of strange trees and she saw the single white flower. That must be the source of the scent, she knew it. What kind of tree was this? The perfume from the flower was driving her crazy and she could feel the moisture between her legs. She needed to get closer and smell the flower up close.
She studied the branches; about three feet from the ground the trunk branched into two. It was a broad based 'U' shape rather than a 'Y'; the two branches started horizontally and then turned upwards to the sky. Smaller branches and foliage were growing higher up, from which hung the one white flower.
The limbs that formed the 'U' seemed to be covered in thin little shoots that grew straight upwards. She guessed that if she stood in the 'U' and held onto the uprights, she would be able to lean far enough forward; she just had to get closer to this erotic and arousing aroma.
Isabella placed her bare foot on a knot in the trunk and managed to lift her other leg onto her chosen perch. She brought her other foot up. The upright fronds of willow tickled her legs and ankles as she planted her feet between them.
So far so good; now to find a hand hold on the twin uprights so that she could lean forward safely. She threaded her hands through a forest of fronds and gripped the two slender main stems; wrapping her finger around as far as they would go. Again she felt the tickling as the fronds, no doubt stirred by a breeze, as they brushed her wrists.
She held tight as she leaned forward; she was so close to the flower now and the perfume was intoxicating; she drank it in. The fronds at her ankles and wrists slowly, almost imperceptibly began to wrap themselves around her. She didn't notice because she was concentrating on the flower.
Smaller, finer fronds seemed to emerge from the shoots and were stroking her body; she felt excited as something started to tickle her legs between her thighs. Other fronds found their way along her arms and touched her breasts. Isabella had no idea what was happening except that she could feel her whole body tingling as she was being stimulated. Could a perfume conjure up all these feelings, she wondered?
Even if she had wanted to, she couldn't have moved her ankles or wrists from the tree; she was held firmly. To Isabella, the firmness didn't represent restraint, it meant security; she could lean further towards the tantalizing flower.
The tiny fronds were now everywhere; they stimulated her pussy; they massaged her breasts. Fronds at the side of her neck were stroking her; behind the ears and down her back. She could take no end of this.
Her pussy was beginning to run with the evidence of her arousal; the juices were running down her legs. The aroma of her arousal mingled with the scent of the flower. As the scent of the flower reached her nostrils, so the scent of her own excitement was drifting towards the beautiful flower.
At the centre of the flower head, a crack was forming. A pink seed pod began to force its way out of the base of the flower. When it fully emerged it was about two inches in diameter and six in length. It was attached to the flower by a long umbilical which seemed to grown in length by the minute. The seed pod descended vertically towards the ground as Isabella writhed in ecstasy on the tree of life.
Then the pod caught the heady scent of her vagina and turned upwards; growing towards the source of the aroma which interested it. The tree had attracted her by its scent and now, she was attracting the tree.
The pointed tip of the pod nudged the entrance to her pussy and she felt a slight pressure. Delicate fronds were tickling her clit and started to work their way into her cunt. Following the scent of her arousal, they worked their way inside her.
As the pod applied pressure, the fronds gently pulled her lips apart leaving the way open for the seed pod to gain entry. She felt ecstatic as it slid inside her; its girth and length increased to fill the available space. Then it slowly started to pulse. First swelling and then deflating; swelling again and deflating. She was mesmerized by the sensation deep within her vagina as the pulsing continued.
The pod didn't physically move in or out of her pussy; it simply pulsed, sending a series of ripples along her pussy walls; simulating the sensuous movement of a penis during intercourse. She was enjoying the best fuck she had ever experienced. This thing was arousing her towards a fantastic orgasm; tendrils from the pod itself were now moving inside her womb, to give her feelings she had never experience before.
Then she came, crashing orgasm after orgasm wracked her aching body. She lost count of the number of times; the pod wouldn't let her stop.
It continued to stimulate her, forcing her to climax repeatedly. The pleasure was so intense it seemed to explode inside her until finally, unable to stop the climaxes; she finally lost consciousness as a state of euphoria overtook her.
The fronds at her wrists and ankles released their grip and she fell from the tree. Her unconscious body landed unharmed on the grass below. In the fall, the pod broke away from the umbilical, but remained firmly inside her.
When she eventually regained consciousness she felt a sudden chill pervade her body; she needed the warmth of the sun. Without thinking she crawled through the meadow away from the shade of the tree; away from the other trees until she found a nice warm patch. She rolled onto her back and returned to a state of semi consciousness.
She could feel the tendrils in her womb stared to reach out; they were seeking the flesh and blood which they needed to feed the pod. She felt the pod sprouting roots which forced their way through her back and her anus. They bored their way into the ground until she was firmly anchored. It continued to grow; she felt green shoots emerged from her stomach their leafy tips growing upwards towards the sun and a small shoot emerged from the depths of her swollen pussy.
Then, each breast was pierced from within, more shoots grew upwards. She felt a stem working its way through her body, around the organs until it reached her faintly beating heart. Her brain was still functioning and she could feel the inexorable progress of the plant within her. When the growth finally reached her brain, shoots started to appear from every orifice in her head.
Her eyes were forced out from behind. She choked as she felt the thing growing in her throat. All her bodily functions were slowly closing down as the plant took over her body.
The fronds turned upwards, seeking the warmth of the sun in their own insatiable quest for life. One insatiable being growing out of another.
Isabella didn't hear the sound of the Abbess closing the gate and turning the key in the lock; in fact, Isabella never heard another thing.
Within days, all that remained was a pile of white bone fragments surrounding a small willow tree. The plant had devoured her flesh and her organs. The birds overhead had finished off any remaining morsels of her once delectable flesh.
The glorious breasts which Roseanne had once avidly sucked no longer existed. The pussy which she had loved to pleasure was gone. The Insatiable was gone forever and the world was once more a safe place.
Isabella had paid the price for her sins and she would not be returning to the mainland after all.
THE END?
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