The pickup rolled to a stop at the edge of the St. Mary's Medical Center parking lot just after noon. The asphalt was cracked and sprouting weeds in stubborn green tufts; rusted cars sat abandoned like forgotten toys, windows shattered or fogged with years of condensation, tires long since flattened into the pavement. The hospital itself loomed ahead, a sprawling three-story brick structure with most of its windows broken, jagged teeth of glass still clinging to frames. Vines had already crept up the walls like green fingers reclaiming what humanity had left behind, tendrils thick and dark, leaves glistening in the weak light. The sign out front had lost letters over time: ST. MARY'S MEDI — CENTER. A faded red cross tilted sideways above the main entrance, paint peeling in long curls.
Shane killed the engine. Silence rushed in, broken only by the distant groan of wind through broken windows and the low, constant rustle of overgrown landscaping. The air outside carried the faint metallic tang of old blood and rusting equipment, undercut by the green, living smell of unchecked growth.
He glanced at Cassia in the passenger seat. She sat with her back straight, apron still tied snug over her linen dress, silver-white hair pulled into a loose knot at the nape of her neck. Her luminous blue eyes were fixed on the building, calm, and assessing, but her fingers trembled faintly where they rested on her lap, betraying the anticipation thrumming beneath her composure.
"Looks quiet," Shane said, voice low, casual, but eyes scanning every shadow, every dark window, every overgrown corner. "Too quiet. Means either nothing's here… or everything's waiting."
Cassia nodded once. "The rooftop greenhouse wing is on the east side, third floor. We'll need to go through the main building to reach the stairwell. The vines will tell me if anything moves before we see it."
Shane grinned, quick, sharp. "That's my grandmother. Walking plant radar. Let's go harvest some medicine and miracle grow."
He stepped out, boots crunching glass and gravel, the sound sharp in the stillness. He opened the tailgate. The two undead sentries climbed down with mechanical precision—rifles at port arms, black-veined faces turned outward. They moved when Shane thought it; they stopped when he thought it. No words. No hesitation. Just obedience. Their clouded eyes tracked the perimeter, rifles sweeping in slow, practiced arcs.
Cassia joined him, dress swaying around her thick thighs, the linen whispering against her skin with every step. Together they approached the main entrance. The glass doors had been shattered long ago; shards crunched underfoot like brittle ice. Inside, the lobby was a ruin: overturned chairs, scattered papers yellowed with age, a reception desk half-collapsed under the weight of fallen ceiling tiles. The air smelled of mold, dust, and something faintly metallic—old blood, perhaps, or rusting equipment. Faint light filtered through broken windows, casting long, jagged shadows across the floor.
Shane raised a hand. The sentries fanned out ahead, one moving to the left corridor, the other to the right, rifles sweeping. Cassia closed her eyes for a moment, fingers brushing a potted plant long dead on the reception desk. A thin tendril sprouted from the dry soil, curling upward, tasting the air, glowing faintly green in the dimness.
"Fast-movers," she whispered. "Three on the second floor's stairwell."
Shane's grin turned feral. "Good. Let's give them something to chase."
They moved, quiet, up the main stairwell. The sentries led, silently, rifles ready. At the second-floor landing, the fast-movers lunged: three rotting figures in tattered scrubs, moving with that jerky, insect-like speed. Shane didn't flinch. He simply thought it and the sentries stepped forward, rifles cracking once each, headshots dropping two instantly. The third leaped, claws outstretched, jaws gaping, but Cassia's hand flicked. Vines erupted from the stairwell cracks, whipping around the creature's ankles, yanking it down hard. Thorns punched through its throat in a spray of black ichor, the body twitching once before going still.
Shane laughed, low, exhilarated.
"That's my grandmother. Turning the building into a Venus flytrap."
Cassia's smile was small, satisfied. "The plants protect what's mine."
They continued, third floor, east wing. The hallway was darker, windows boarded, but Cassia's vines crept ahead, glowing faintly green, lighting the way like living lanterns. They reached the greenhouse wing, whose double doors hanging off hinges and stepped inside.
The space was eerie, overgrown, beautiful in a decayed way. Rows of hydroponic tables stood under shattered skylights; vines and ferns had taken over everything—climbing metal frames, spilling over edges, roots dangling like living curtains. Old nutrient tanks sat cracked and dry; bags of specialized fertilizer lay half-buried under leaves, labels faded but still legible.
Shane whistled low. "Jackpot. Looks like nobody's been here since the fall."
Cassia moved forward, fingers brushing leaves, vines responding, curling around her wrists like eager pets.
"Potassium sulfate," she murmured. "And Magnesium nitrate. Enough to triple our yield again."
She began filling a canvas sack, methodical, while Shane kept watch, sentries posted at the doors.
Then she paused, turning, eyes finding him in the dim light.
"Shane."
He looked over, grin fading at the intensity in her gaze.
She stepped closer, slow, dress swaying, breasts rising and falling with each breath.
"Shane…..I want you," she said, voice low, trembling slightly. "I can't hold anymore."
Shane's breath caught. "Grandmother…"
She closed the distance, hand rising, cupping his face, thumb brushing his lower lip.
"I want to taste you," she whispered. "I want to feel you again. I want… my grandson."
Shane groaned, low, desperate, cock already straining against his jeans.
"You sure?" he rasped. "This place Is a little dangerous"
Cassia's smile was small, giddy, schoolgirl blush on her cheeks.
"I don't care," she said frantically and sunk to her knees, slow, dress pooling around her, hands working his zipper, freeing his cock. It sprang out, thick, veined, leaking, and she stared, eyes wide, reverent.
"So big," she breathed, fingers wrapping around him, stroking slow. "So thick. My grandson's cock… hard for his grandmother. Leaking for me."
Shane groaned, hand threading through her silver hair, hips twitching.
"Fuck, Grandmother, your hand feels so good. Stroke me and taste me. Take what you've been always looking forward to."
Cassia leaned in, tongue flicking the tip, tasting the pre-cum, moaning softly at the flavor. Then she took him into her mouth, slow, lips stretching around him, sucking gently, tongue swirling.
Shane's head fell back, groan tearing from his throat.
"Jesus, your mouth, so hot, so wet, sucking your grandson's cock like you were born for it. Look at you, on your knees, tits spilling out of that dress, lips wrapped around me. Fuck, take me deeper. Let me feel your throat."
Cassia moaned around him, pushing forward, taking him deeper, gagging slightly, tears welling, but she didn't stop. She bobbed, slow, then faster, hand stroking what her mouth couldn't reach, other hand cupping his balls, rolling gently.
Shane's hips rocked, fucking her mouth gently, voice ragged.
"That's it, suck me, drain me, take that little sip while you swallow. Feel it? Feel how hard I get when you choke on your grandson's cock? Fuck, you're perfect. My beautiful, filthy grandmother. My queen."
Cassia's hand slid between her own thighs, fingers finding her clit, rubbing frantically, moaning around him, vibrations making him groan louder.
She came, sudden, walls spasming, slick gushing over her hand, while she swallowed him deeper, throat working, draining that tiny sip of vitality. The plants around them exploded, vines writhing, fruit bursting, leaves unfurling, then wilting, then blooming again in ecstatic cycles.
Shane groaned, hips stuttering, then pulled out, hand stroking fast, aiming at her breasts.
"Come for me," he growled. "Let me mark you mark your tits."
Cassia arched, breasts thrusting forward, mouth open, tongue extended, eyes locked on his.
Shane came, thick ropes splashing across her breasts, painting her pale skin, dripping down the deep valley of her cleavage. She moaned, fingers still moving, coming again, body shaking, cum-glazed and glowing faintly violet-green.
Shane dropped to his knees, fingers sliding between her thighs, plunging inside her, curling, thumb on her clit, fingering her hard while she rubbed his cum into her breasts like lotion, massaging it in, moaning softly.
"Come again," he whispered, voice rough. "Come while I finger you as you wear my cum on your tits. While the plants bloom all around us."
Cassia shattered, third time, walls spasming around his fingers, slick gushing, body shaking, tears streaming, soft cry muffled against his shoulder.
They stayed like that, panting, trembling, foreheads pressed together, his fingers still inside her, her hands still rubbing his cum into her skin.
Shane kissed her, slow, soft, tasting himself on her lips.
"I want more," Cassia whispered, voice trembling with want.
Shane smiled, dark, loving.
XXXX
Taboo Hypnosis: Love Rewritten — sealed away for now.
Every chapter drops with custom high-detail thumbnails: hungry stares, glowing screens, broken devotion locked in feral art.
Craving the rush? Unlock 5 full chapters ahead on Reborn Sovereign, Business Emperor, and Shadows of Dominion — raw dominance, zero cuts. Plus 2 chapters early on Zombie Apocalypse Harem with exclusive NSFW refs and character art that hits hard.
Join the patreon vault now and feed the addiction: https://www.patreon.com/Alaric_Lock 🔥👀💦
(18+ only — once you're in, there's no escape)