March 2021 Twitter Winner

TAGS: Plantoid Invasion, Hyper/Extreme Hyper/Macro Hyper, Macro/City Macro, Growth/Expansion, Nectar Growth, BE

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Nothing could’ve indicated that day would be any different from any other. Everyone woke up whenever the sun rose above the horizon where they lived, everyone went to work or stayed home depending on whatever they were supposed to be doing, and everyone’s daily routines were carried out in much the same way as before. It was one of those rare occasions where, no matter how hard anyone wanted to find something newsworthy to report on, there just wasn’t anything there at all; perhaps in some far-off location they could fetch themselves an interesting story, but as far as those who lived in that city cared, things were just… the usual. This only made it extra surprising when the normality was shattered by the sudden disappearance of day, and the emergence of a night sky around noon.

One moment the sun shone upon them, its warmth filling their lives and pushing their living and workplaces perhaps a bit too much in one direction, just enough to begin justifying the use of air conditioning, and the next the clear blue sky was completely replaced by the blackness of space. It happened too quickly for the people directly underneath it to notice, but those lucky enough to be far enough away from the epicenter were able to see what could only be described as a tear in the middle of the air; like someone had taken a knife and dragged it across the very sky, it had been split open and pushed apart to make room for something that looked straight out of a deep space photograph than any sort of planetbound skyview. For a glorious few moments, the entire city’s downtown area froze, all the souls within it staring upwards, not knowing whether to be terrified or mesmerized by something that felt like a scene from a blockbuster movie; were they about to be invaded? Would aliens be coming through? Was this the mythical first contact that everyone had been dreaming of for decades?

Unbeknownst to this small collection of the world’s population, theirs was not the only tear that had been opened. Indeed, all throughout the planet, mostly atop large metropolises but occasionally, and oddly enough, over vast woodland, hundreds of such openings appeared from seemingly nowhere, tearing gashes across the local sky in such a way that they were perfectly visible even in the dead of night. As one, billions of souls collectively looked up, wondering what might be happening, and as one, they received their answers in due time when something began to pour through what were very clearly portals; or rather, somethings, as it quickly became clear that what they believed was one big mass was, in fact, countless smaller ones packed together so tightly as to appear a single body.

No one really knew what those things were, but the sight of an uncountable amount of objects descending towards the surface of the planet at speeds high enough to start breaking the sound barrier triggered the exact same fight or flight response in everyone watching; and as one, billions of souls panicked as they ran towards the nearest shelter, hoping that perhaps their flimsy constructs of steel, glass and concrete would protect them against whatever onslaught was being wrought upon them.

They needn’t worry though, for this supposed bombardment had nothing if not the best of intentions, so much so that its constituent units began to slow down almost immediately after first breaching through this new atmosphere. Those who yet remained outside, either out of a sense of inevitable doom or simply because they were curious enough to ignore that voice in their head telling them to run away, would see the masses spread out over an immense distance, each “pellet” that made it up deploying what looked to be some kind of large parachute-hat hybrid; these slowed down whatever those things were just enough that, once they began making contact with the first surface directly beneath them, they did so with such grace as to be basically inaudible.

This didn’t exactly assuage anyone’s fears, however. Yes, their infrastructure might’ve been spared some hypothetical alien bombardment, but the aliens were still there, and in numbers big enough to make it difficult to gauge just how many there were at all; it wasn’t helped that, looking up, anyone could tell that even more were coming through the spacetime tears, though what no one could tell was that those portals in areas without sunlight had stopped producing seedlings, with most of the flow being directed to the lit areas of the planet. Seedlings, because that was exactly what those things were: clearly organic in nature and looking like a cross between a large seed and a bulbous pod, pulsating and throbbing rhythmically as if possessed of a heartbeat, it was clear that those objects had quite literally seeded the Earth… that what awaited its population within them was still unknown.

There was a brief grace period where those who hadn’t run for cover had some time to walk towards the nearest seeding pod and analyze it, together with the few brave ones who left their hiding places to inspect just what had taken place. Thousands, millions of such seedlings were falling from the sky, clearly intending to carpet the whole planet with brand new life, but would it be amenable to the one that already existed on the planet, or would it decide to choke out its residents in favour of itself? Whatever the case, the pods were very clearly ready to open up, judging from how much the things inside of them were pushing and kicking against their soft surface from within, and the sheer quantity of juices being spilled from each crack and seam.

The first pods opened to reveal their contents barely ten minutes after first landing, and those lucky enough to see what came out were, once again, split between whether to feel existential terror at what they were seeing and, oddly enough, being surprisingly aroused at the sight, for the pods didn’t produce unfathomable monsters whose forms were too incomprehensible for a sane mind to perceive, but rather… plant-women? It was hard to put a label on them, but they were definitely possessed of the attributes one would associate with that moniker: curvaceous, bottom-heavy forms, their chests adorned with a pair of breasts that all seemed to be of above-average size, and a certain sense of softness about them that seemed invite those who laid eyes upon their bodies to come closer, to give themselves to them, to enjoy them. Perhaps it was the way they looked, or maybe it was the cloud of mind-altering pheromones the pods also coincidentally produced on being opened, but whatever the case, the panic felt just minutes before quickly subsided, replaced by an intense amount of desire.

Apart from the more obviously sexual traits, the plant-things were quite alien in design. Though they had identifiable arms and legs, their bodies were also covered in large amounts of what looked to be vines and thick, viscous plaques that seemed to bend and break whenever any one of the creatures took a step. Their heads, too, were covered up in plates of varying shapes and sizes, like overgrowth had taken over their skulls, making it difficult to tell how they were able to walk around without bumping into anything, what with the lack of eyes and all. Still, they managed to move from place to place with unnerving ease, almost like they had everything mapped out in their heads, something they used to quickly find more people to introduce themselves to.

Despite the obvious danger that having the whole world coated in plant beings posed, not a single soul that actually saw them could make themselves act in order to stop it; like a switch had been flipped inside their heads, their fight-or-flight response had been subverted and inverted, leading to millions upon millions of previously-terrified individuals pouring out from wherever they had taken refuge in order to come meet their newest neighbors. After all, those plant things weren’t attacking anyone, and they seemed to be incredibly friendly once people got close enough to them; they made off, chirping noises that just seemed to resonate perfectly with whoever heard them, and though their extendable vines were covered in a thick slime that appeared to be uncomfortable to the touch, it was actually extremely relaxing once enough of it was slathered onto enough skin. Soon, the first “volunteers” would be openly throwing themselves at the visitors, some merely hugging and snuggling them, others… not so much.

The amount of pheromones in the atmosphere had been steadily increasing from the moment the first portals opened, and now that the seedling pods opened to reveal their contents, their density skyrocketed to levels so high that not a single human alive anywhere near the entry points was in control of their own body. Their instincts, too, had been exploited for the greater cause of the plant beings, whatever that may be, and before long the first drinkers would emerge, those who rather than just hold onto their newest neighbors would outright force their mouths onto their breasts to drink deeply and greedily from whatever might lie within.

Nectar. Delicious, nutritious, just-sweet-enough nectar that flowed with the consistency of honey, yet melted far more easily as soon as it touched anyone’s tongue, carrying with it not only an overpowering sugary taste, but enough of an addictive chemical cocktail to ensure that those who had merely a sip would forever be hooked to it. Though most people were reluctant at first to do something as seemingly insane as drink from the bosom of a species that they knew nothing about, this sort of thinking didn’t last too long, not when the pheromones they were breathing in grew thicker and thicker, to the point where the clouds were just barely visible if one paid close enough attention. Within a single hour, every last sentient life on the planet, even that which hid away in the most remote areas of it, had their eyes go half-lidded; if they couldn’t see a plantoid, they would turn towards the nearest concentration of them and start walking, instinctively knowing where to find them. Some would take days, but that was fine; in the end, everyone would receive their fill.

While they did, the planetary invaders were free to enact the next stage of their grand plan. The first wave of seedling pods were nothing if not the vanguard, designed to make the population of their target planet pliable and accepting of their new overlords; after all, it wouldn’t do for them to just pick a new homeworld and then have to fight for dominance over it, not when they were already forced to leave their last one after that unfortunate incident with making the sun too bright. No, it was better for everyone involved to be nice and calm and willing to accept the plant beings as the new top dogs of the hierarchy, even if that did mean drugging everyone with incredibly addictive nectar; at least that way they wouldn’t notice the next wave of visitors falling from the dimensional tears.

These were significantly larger than the ones that came first, and were already fully formed, with no need for a gestating pod to hatch from. In many respects, they were similar to the first wave of plantoids, being possessed of the same sort of feminine curves and assets, simply… bigger, in just about every respect. Not just in height, though they did tower over everyone around them, but in proportions as well; the first generation of seedling spawn were curvaceous, but they didn’t all possess breasts big enough to cover the entirety of their chests, nor were they so stuffed with nectar that both teats dripped with gallons of it whenever they took a step. They were quite bottom-heavy, but didn’t have hips wide enough to completely obliterate even double-wide doors, nor asscheeks so massive they could likely flatten a car just by sitting on it. The new generation of plant gals, however, had all of these things and more: some were gifted with pairs of breasts bigger than the rest of them, others had asses and thighs so plump they practically melted into one another, and they all, universally, were so full of their species’ delicious nectar that everyone around them could hear it sloshing around inside their bodies.

The purpose of this new variant was made clear once they began to “distribute” their bounty. While the smaller plantoids were capable of lactating enough for two people to gulp down mouthful after mouthful, that was just about all they could do, and at times had to push people away in order to recharge; the bigger ones, however, had no such issues, and in fact seemed to welcome excess! They walked forward, holding their breasts between their hands and squeezing them with enough force to cause large jets of nectar to fly through the air, covering whole crowds in a thick layer of amber cream that just never seemed to dry, inviting those it coated to take handfuls of it and shovel it into their throats. This created enough of a distraction for the second-generation plant giants to fulfill their true purpose: refilling their smaller brethren.

With the crowds of human placated and eagerly lapping at their own bodies for whatever meager scraps of nectar were still clinging onto them, the first-generation plantoids turned to face the nearest “caretaker” to them; with the ration being a good ten-to-one, there was plenty of spare nectar to go around when it came to refilling whatever counted as stomachs for those things, and be it through directly guzzling down the streams pouring out of the enormous teats from which they spilled, or by having tentacles inject it directly into their bodies, the world was suddenly a much warmer place.

For once, everyone involved could appreciate some degree of pleasure, and as a result, the intensity of the mind-altering chemicals floating through the air in thickening clouds grew until everyone who took so much as whiff became unable to even fathom a world that didn’t involve mindlessly devoting their whole lives to their plantoid overlords. As for the plantoids themselves, they were clearly enjoying being on the receiving end of the filling for once, and were anyone to remain with the ability to think for themselves, they would clearly see the smaller ones delighting themselves as their hands migrated to where their lower lips would be; meanwhile, their bigger sisters moaned and groaned loudly enough to rattle windows in their frames, eventually forgoing the use of their hands entirely and simply sprouting vast swarms of tentacles that each plugged a single breast, dumping industrial quantities of nectar into them.

While this happened, the second-generation plan giantesses began to take root, their feet cracking through the ground in search of nutrients far below; soon enough, the next stage of the plan would begin, when the very planet itself would be traversed by roots going miles and miles in the ground, providing the larger caretakers with the nutrients required to keep everyone else well-fed and ready to go at any point. Sure, this was exactly what had caused multiple different collapses on prior worlds, but surely this one blue marble was rich enough that they could squeeze it for longer than normal; maybe even a couple of millenia if they were lucky!

For the time being, however, the larger plantoids stopped providing their nectar and focused entirely on extracting as much bounty off the soil as they could, the initial infusion being by necessity much greater than the subsequent ones in order to allow them to grow to the size required. After all, with such a large population of sisters and subservient humans to feed, they needed to be substantially bigger than they were already, gifted with more size and productivity in order to ensure that their nectar would never run out, no matter how much strain was placed on them. To that end, the second-generation plantoids’ physiology was uniquely tailored to immediately reprocess everything they absorbed from the soil and turn it into additional mass for themselves, triggering a transformative growth reaction that would only end after several days.

It was hard work growing, especially when they had to keep everyone fed at the same time, but just like they always did, the caretakers slowly morphed into bigger and more gigantic versions of themselves. Rooted in one spot permanently, they became places where their smaller attendants would congregate, occasionally budding to create pods where the smaller plantoids could place themselves and join in the collective rooting, that they too might benefit from this symbiotic relationship and grow along with their bigger sister. The human population, by that point entirely consumed by their need to obey whatever commands their own arousal gave them, thought nothing of this; they thought nothing of when they had to start drinking from vines, thought nothing of when the roots triggered the occasional quake, and thought nothing of when the sun was blotted out across large chunks of land when the giantess’ leaves were opened wide above their heads.

And why should they? These plant gals were the absolute peak of perfection, with every inch of their bodies seemingly designed to tittilate and entice, to let everyone know that if they weren’t actively worshipping them, then their subjects were clearly doing something wrong. Over the course of those several days, they went from “merely” ten-foot amazons with absurd proportions to even more exaggerated, oversexualized sculptures of fertile perfect: wide hips, wider than entire city blocks, lined with pods where smaller plantoids resided and grew along with them, butts that provided the perfect amount of shade for those who chose to reside underneath them, as well as one hell of a show thanks to all the jiggling that came with each of the giantesses’ motions. The biggest winners, however, were very clearly their breasts, as made perfect sense; their bosoms were the main producers and distributors of nectar, and given the sheer number of plant beings that now resided upon the Earth, there was a massive need for nectar in order to keep their operation running.

Not a single single-generator titan remained after a week whose tits weren’t, at the very least, three times bigger than the rest of their body each, both of them positively stuffed with their sweet mannah to such a degree that waterfalls cascaded from their teats at every minute of every hour of every day. Despite this, they never ran out; the nutrients gathered from the soil, along with the sunlight they processed into additional energy, ensured that their productivity continually grew until it reached a state of equilibrium, whereby their tits would reach their maximum capacity for their body’s… and yet keep on filling anyway, with the amount produced being equal to the amount leaking out into the world. Thousands upon thousands of gallons from every single nectar tank, splashing onto the ground a good hundred or so feet below, for the giantesses had truly lived up this descriptor, growing to loom over everything around them. And if they didn’t, then whatever that was would simply have to go; easy enough to safely collapse buildings by using their root network to consume them from below.

Their forms were still somewhat variable in terms of number, however, with those who were lucky enough to land on fertile land occasionally developing tits so ungodly massive as to nearly bury them completely underneath them, a select few being blessed with a truly insane amount of nectar productivity, leading to nectarfalls so powerful that the ground beneath them was left perpetually muddy. However, they would eventually stop growing; not because they had reached some kind of limit inherent to themselves (they had, after all, achieved greater heights on other worlds), but after reaching a state where they could maximize the length of their stay on the planet. Sure, they could keep deepening their roots until they broke into the mantle, sucking the Earth dry of whatever valuable resources it might have in an orgy of consumption, but that would mean having to move to another planet within a few short years, rather than enjoying a blissful, heavenlike existence for hundreds, potentially thousands of them! And besides, the transformations weren’t yet complete; the first-generation plantoids still needed to grow properly.

While some of the smaller ones had bonded symbiotically with their bigger sisters, giving up the ability to walk to share in the endless repaste of sunlight and nutrients being poured into their shared root system, most of them still remained mobile; at the end of the day, someone had to attend to the millions of sentients they now shared a planet with, and that meant being available at all points of the day without requiring these humans to climb a few dozen feet up a large stalk just to find an empty tap. But, as their invasion of Earth progressed and progressively more of the ecosystem was subverted for their own needs, so too did the first-generation plant gals feel an instinctive desire for… more. It was hard-coded into their genes, a trigger that was activated whenever the critical mass of plant matter reached a certain point, and as one, they knew what they had to do.

Approximately two weeks after the rifts first opened, new masses of tentacle-like vines emerged from the bodies of the second-generation colossi that had, by that point, reached their maximum allotted size for Earth, and had begun to fully dedicate themselves to the nurturing and nourishment of all life residing upon it. These vines, however, were not designed to “feed” anyone, per se, but rather to provide a nutrient boost to the many small plantoids whose job it was to tend to the native populace; every single one of these first-generation seedlings was granted a direct physical line to their nearest caretaker, and as soon as they were all plugged into the same network, the pumping began.

In truth, despite the copious (one might even say absurd) quantities of nectar that flowed from each giantess, their productive capabilities were far, far larger than what even their engorged bodies might indicate. It was child’s play for them to start pumping a highly nutrient-rich slurry down every single vine, each heartbeat pushing the paste closer and closer to the plant gal that it was attached to, until the filling substance began to pour into their bodies, immediately triggering a transformative process of its own. This one was quite simple, all things considered: slurry went in, plantoid became larger, not much to it. The substance was designed to replace the need for any direct feeding of their own, being so energetic that not only did it substitute their existing diet of sunlight and occasional root-digging, but caused their bodies to begin expanding outwards… and in more ways than one as well.

The process was just as excruciatingly slow as it had been for the second-generation giantesses, but the end result was poetically similar. Over the course of multiple days, those humans who still retained some semblance of a working mind would be able to see the change take place: those previously people-sized plant gals would pick up in height and mass, growing to pass the ten-foot mark and almost universally stopping between eighteen and twenty, ensuring that even the smallest among them would be capable of towering over their human attendants even without any additional changes… changes that, obviously, were delivered simultaneously with the height boost: bigger, fatter asses, thicker and wider hips, just the right amount of pudge to their bellies that anyone watching would be hard-pressed not to want to poke at and grope, knowing how soft and hand-filling those things would be. Their whole forms packed on mass until they too became the symbols of fertility that their bigger sisters had been before, and while they didn’t grow to become just as gigantic, they were certainly big enough that, once the nectar build-up began, they were… big enough, for lack of a better descriptor.

After all, the titans looming over the very landscape might produce waterfalls of their sweet nectar, but there was something impersonal about the way everyone had to drink from them. They were just curtains of the stuff, splashing on the ground and infiltrating into the soil in order to perpetuate this odd new ecosystem the plantoids brought with them. There was no care, no concern, just an endless… supply. Fittingly, most of it would be used to feed the smaller plantoids until they too were upgraded to much larger forms, and these would be the ones to give the humans what they wanted.

Much like their bigger sisters, the first-generation seedlings began to develop absurdly engorged tits, in addition to having their productivity be boosted to such an extent that some were clearly having trouble walking with their back straight from how heavy those things were; a few, those who were more blessed than any other, had to resort to rooting in place and becoming smaller-scale caretakers after they simply lost the ability to take a step without tipping forward. Unlike the larger colossi however, these smaller plantoids would all develop enough as to eventually be pinned down or otherwise immobilized; with them having a direct link to a seemingly endless source of nutrition, they had no reason to stop growing, and some would bloat so much as to be literally buried underneath their own busts, with their impossibly-stuffed mounds keeping them firmly immobilized and unable to do anything other than squirm and squeeze their own nectar tanks.

Which was, ultimately, the whole point. They were never designed to be anything more than living nectar dispensers, ones that could actually be climbed on and used as taps around which their human servants could wrap their mouths and drink their fill, and to that end, they would never truly stop growing. While the bigger plant women busied themselves with removing all traces of civilization in order to make more room for themselves, only very rarely allowing their bodies to bulge out with additional size, the nutrient pumps connecting them to their smaller sisters would never truly cease functioning; day after day, relentlessly, be it rain or shine, the originally people-sized seedlings were continuously fed the highly energetic slurry, pumped fuller and fuller with each passing moment.

Those who resisted immobilization the most would be the ones stuffed even harder, not because of any sort of disobedience, but purely out of a morbid sense of sexual satisfaction on the part of the caretakers, who wished to see their sisters bloat, grow, fill, until they could no longer even move. The planet was filled by the sounds of moaning, noises that could only truly be described as the physical manifestation of arousal as millions upon millions of plant women, all of them being forcibly stuffed with endless amounts of growth substance, let loose their inner thoughts in the only way they could. Foot after foot their frames would grow in every direction, until by the end of the first month not a single one was left that hadn’t cleared the fifty-foot mark in height, each of their breasts blessed to the point where they were bigger than most single-family houses. Not one remained that still stood, though the variation there was quite large: some were lying on their backs, completely buried by their own titstacks, while others were lucky enough to either be sitting, lying on their breasts, or even resting on their sides, never to get up again.

And still they grew, though at a much slower rate as time went on. The pumping of nutrient slurry never went beyond a certain amount, as the plantoids did have to keep a lid on how crazy they went in order to prevent exhausting the planet too quickly, so diminishing returns set in after a short while. Eventually, over the course of the following years, the second-generation caretakers would be outsized by their own nurtured creations, as the originally-smallest seedlings would be pumped bigger than the ones doing the pumping itself; this would kickstart a vicious cycle, where the main nectar dispensers would have to grow themselves in order to keep providing for all of their sisters, which in turn would lead to the latter once again outgrowing the supply, and then everything would fall into a downwards spiral that ended with the planet being stripped of resources and all of them regressing into a seedling pod state, ready to be deployed to another planet and start everything all over again.

But that was for the future, a problem they would only need to worry about… some time later. Their estimates as a species were always far too optimistic, given they were interminably horny and their preferred method of harvesting planets only exacerbated that issue; after all, there were so many better ways that didn’t involve deliberately making themselves grow taller, with fatter asses and dozens of rows of enormous, nectar-stuffed tits, but those weren’t as fun. Nothing was as fun as being pumped so full of delicious nutrients that their bodies ran over, overflowed, became a thing of excess and self-indulgence that couldn’t even function properly without an extensive root network ensuring they were kept well-fed. They would take that planet and rob of it everything, leaving it a lifeless, empty husk like they had so many others, turning every last ounce of its resources into fat for their cheeks, pudge for their thighs, mass for their bodies and nectar for their tits. And then, once their battery ran out, they would start over, again and again and again, slowly improving upon themselves with each new generation.

After all, they used to be the size of actual plants. The second-generation caretakers had once been just as tall as a shrub.

Eventually, they would all be giants.