I had always been something of a contradiction, on one hand, I’d never hurt a fly, can’t even be rude to a telemarketer I’d beat myself up over it, the guilt slowly killing me as its memory swirled my head like water down a drain ‘What if they’re having a bad day’, ‘What if their dad died’, ‘what if, what if’ and at the same time I got a little dull thrill seeing someone having a /day/, the tired sigh, the thousand-yard stare as they regretted, well, it didn’t exactly matter.  

I knew what I was, it wasn’t a lion, and it wasn’t even a predator but a scavenger picking at the remains of an emotional kill. I’d clean up, be their best friend~ listen to all their problems, never tell a soul, they’d get someone to confide in and I’d get the disgusting thrill of picking at an emotional scab. Why else did one go to the coliseum to see the lions feed if not to say ‘Hey, at least it’s not me’?

But with the Affini, that had become a problem. Sure in the first few months, you’d be fine, people worried about being pet-ified and the tangible worry of losing your identity to the plants had been a banquet of existential dread, but it was becoming more and more apparent as the Compact fixed the systems of oppression post-Accord, universal healthcare, food and housing, it was becoming harder to feed.

I was going to starve, and that left me with the uncomfortable realization that I was the sad one, had I just been glutting myself on everyone else’s misery to avoid my own?

As I sat in my apartment, lying down on a grey bed full of grey sheets staring up at a roof while you guessed it grey thoughts went through my head, I had just finished my wellness check, was I eating properly? Yes, was I socializing, sure. It was all standard stuff and as long as I lined up a history of actions I almost looked normal. 

But, despite all the leisure and choice, the Affini Compact offered I was growing irritated.

“I need something, I needed-” Misery, yes I know that wasn’t normal but in a post-scarcity society it had value because it was rare, scarce even. After all, why did the Affini hunt it so vigorously if it wasn’t valuable, I figured I was in direct competition for this resource.

And who was miserable in the Compact, well, that was easy. Feralists, rebel-wannabes. So I came up with an idea, I felt myself smile that crooked grin, the one which snickered and sneered along with my most intrusive thoughts. Oh, this would be good.

I’d go onto those Terran-Seperratist forums, the kind that where a user was one rejection away from becoming full-blown domestic-Terranist, I’d just have to hype them up a little, foment, format, and then pull the ladder up behind me by informing the Affini where they were meeting and all their little /plans/. “Oh, their expressions are going to be wonderful~ I can almost see the betrayal in their eyes.”

We’d both get what we wanted, they got their pets and me. Well, I got what I always wanted.

Oh, they’d be fun~ I was already drooling at the thought of what I had planned,  I had picked well.

HerbyHerbicide, or as I found out Stanley Anderson, was the usual terran-rebel-bystander, talked a good game but was leery of putting himself on the front line. Fine to belt out a few slogans and maybe even put up posters in less Affini-occupied territories, on his own he was harmless and didn’t even warrant a wellness check beyond maybe a messy hab. Of course, that was if I didn’t give him a little shove in the right direction.

Deadroots, or IRL Theresa Azaria, from what I could gather it’s serious mommy and daddy issues, repressed the heck out of her during childhood so she has a problem with authority figures, and then her parents suddenly get Florted and now they’re all positivity and love. So parental issues merged with plant issues, if I were a psychologist I’d write a paper on her.

TreeTap, Greysen Brooks, I am surprised he is still independent the man has a nervous disposition a mile wide that if any Affini looked at him they’d pop a nosebleed, or sapbleed or something. Whatever, he was going to be the hardest and easiest to bring into the game. I couldn’t get him with all that Terran pride stuff but peer pressure and a little /kindness/ and he’d be mine.

It was all coming together and I was EXCITED, absolutely giddy with the thought I’d be setting up a real-life scooby-doo chase except there’d be no unmasking these monsters~ I mean sure there was a lot of setup. I needed to find a place out of the way, a warehouse that the Affini hadn’t gotten to but it was doable.

Next and the hardest part was making the phone call, it went something like this.

“Hello, is this center for domestication- yeah, good. Okay yes, I will have some water, get something to eat, and take my meds. But I had a little tip-off for you, I overheard some rebel-sympathizers, super feral by the way going to have a meeting where they discussed how they’re going to hurt some super cute Florets.”

Pause for effect, water that plant nice and good. “And I heard they’d be running with scissors too.”

Okay, maybe it didn’t go exactly like that but I did stop off at one of the on-street communication devices, you know for emergencies, I made sure I was dressed in a cap, a hoodie, and a face mask so I’d look super non-descript while I told them the time and location of the /meeting/. 

I really am smart.

The night came, and the house of cards was set the food plates out, respectable finger food like popcorn, chips, and dip, not mention a cheese platter with at least three different kinds. What they didn’t know scattered around the room in nooks and crannies, hidden but not very well were all kinds of incriminating pieces of evidence. Instructions on how to build a bomb, directions to your local domestication center, and to top it off a drawing of a vaguely humanoid tree on fire.

And the small trail cam I could collect later, the video would be SWEET.

Then I was waiting for the guests to arrive, greeting each with a practiced air of familiarity. “Stan the man, looking good. You been working out?” He was dressed casually, trying to give off that /too-cool-for-school/ vibe.

“Theresa! Woah that dress, you’re going to have to tell me what page of the compiler you got that off 'cause it is AMAZING.” It was mediocre at best, you could make it work but she hadn’t chosen the right accessories in my expert opinion.

“Greysen!” I had to choke down my laughter, he had come as a werewolf and for all the little spatters of fake blood, he looked like a puppy who had gotten into the ketchup bottle especially when he noticed no one else was wearing a costume, his cheeks were as red as tomatoes from embarrassment! “Oh, I’m so sorry. There was a change in plans, no time for costumes but you’re really making that tail work.”

I spent my time talking and you know just being a charming devil, well, that was until it was getting close to the time I had told the Affini when the meeting was to start, time to make my exit. “Oh, y’all I’m gonna head out and grab the pizza. No, no, I’ll be fine. I won’t be a moment.”

–

Poppy Happyheart, third bloom, she/her, stood at some distance staring into the night at the warehouse and supposed rebels, she could feel their biorhythms and the little pitter patter of their hearts. She had expected more from the rebel cell but she’d make sure to have fun with these three ferals.

Slivering like a snake, moving with a liquid grace as vines slid across the ground moving up to the wall of the building like a shadow, ‘no perimeter sensors, no sentry not even a guard. These cuties were woefully unprepared and she’d abuse them for that.

It happened in a second, one moment there was empty air the next an uncoiling mountain of vines fell into the room, with all the sound she made she might as well have just appeared out of the concrete, her form twisting and twitching with agitation or was it anticipation, she looked like a fertility god and an angry one at that.

“Whu-” Three confused little voices intoned, the puppyboy was frozen in fear and shaking on the spot going silent like he had been caught chewing the Affini’s favorite shoe. Poppy had to admit it was the cutest thing she had ever seen, she could feel her plant matter melt at the sight and she knew which one she’d be claiming if not all of them.

The one in the hoodie, Stanley, had finally found his feet and was taking off in a direction, any direction he wasn’t all that coordinated as he clipped a table with his hip as he ran and was sent ass over end with a whoop of air. Cute and clumsy Poppy, thought.

Theresa Azaria, got a little bit further than the other two which wasn’t all that far as all of them were suddenly, and inevitably ensnared by those grasping tendrils and held up against that nest of leaves and vines. “Okay, you cuties you’ve all been very naughty. But don’t worry sweetlings! We’re going to have lots of fun, and I think you’ll come to enjoy it in time.” 

—

I was laughing to myself and then aloud as I finally entered my hab, it felt like I was on DRUGS. The air smelt sweet and I could feel my skin tingling as I moved over to my /battle-station/, I wanted to get started on my next batch of idiots while I had this high. I could always go back another day and see the results, and the little trail cam I had set up in the warehouse would be my trophy from the encounter.

“Gawd, I didn’t think-... it feel this good.”

I stared up at my RGB light setup, I blinked and it blinked back at me. Wait, I didn’t have RGB lights.

“Hello Petal,” it became clear I wasn’t looking at little bulbs but instead eyes, six of them to be exact. I tried to stand but something heavy hit my chest and then there was an unraveling as a coil of living vines entrapped me. “You’ve been a very busy Sophont, or should I say Floret.”

“I can explain, really there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.” I just didn’t have it. 

“I was framed.”

That was all I got out as I felt something rubbery, yielding but firm tendril press up against my lips then wiggle into the space between my upper and lower jaw. Not to mention it tickled the back of my throat so I gagged around it, I think a little trail of snot was leaking from my nose as I was being throat fucked by the vine. “Mergh.”

“Didn’t catch that dear you’re going to need to speak up,” fuck, I got a weed that thought it was a comedian. “Well, as pretty as I find you gagging on my vine It’s time to sleep cutie, we can talk more later.” That sweet smell intensified and I blearily blinked up into that wooden mask of delight and hunger. “Drop.”

I was gone.

Three Months Later

I was walking with my mistress, a lot had changed in that time, I was on wonderful Xenodruggies and my worse urges had been curtailed by my lovely owner. You could do a lot with a well-placed vine.

Did I mention I had tits now, yeah they jutted out like a little tray. I could probably put something between them.

“Impy, we’re going to see some friends. And you’re going to be on best behavior. No mischief.”

Yeah, I was called Impy now, or my little fiendling. My mischief as she called it had reminded her of some /creature/ from Terran myth, which would have been fine but then she got inspired and had the vet stick a set of horns on my head, put a tail above my ass, and gave me teeth that turned any smile into a warning sign ‘please don’t trust me, I am up to no good’.

She had said it was good to be upfront with what you were.

“Ah-h, of course, Mistress. You know me, I am right with the lord. Get ye’ behind me demon~” I can’t believe she made me talk like that, I was occasionally contractually obligated to speak in riddles. Fuck my life.

This was when it went from bad to worse, well, not like I could feel all that bad with the implant humming sweet loving thoughts in the back of my head but I did try!

The cafe was mostly empty, a few Affini, florets, and even an independent but that’s when I saw them they were in the back, in a private /playpen/. 

Three of them.

They looked familiar, one was suffering similar but different alterations as his hands were useless paws and he also had two puppy dog ears on his head, and a big wuffy tail that wagged behind him. The next was a girl, she was smiling that dazed expression so familiar to florets and she was leaning up against someone I could neither tell if they were a she or a he. Probably had they pronouns I thought.

“Heya it’s been a long time Michael, or should we say Impy now. Though I don’t suppose it was ever Michael.”

My blood ran cold as I was placed in the pen, my mistress moving away as if to say ‘There’d be no help from me’.

“Ah, yeah what a surprise. They got me too, you know rebel spirit.”

They were on top of me before I could explain, blame, beg them, and tell them I was framed! The dog had pushed me to the ground pinning me as he rolled me onto my back. “I think we should call you bitch instead.”

“Yeah,” Theresa, or the person that had been her said, her lips were painted black and she had put on a little weight from no doubt all that Affini cooking, I couldn’t blame her, I had also put on a little pudge that made my belly spill over and my hips delightfully smackable or that’s what my mistress had told me and I didn't get to disagree with her. “We know the whole story.”

“Stanley, buddy you gotta help me, I know what I did was wrong.”

“It's Thorn, now. And you’re about to get pricked. But don’t worry we’ll leave something for your mistress to scoop up afterward, we were told to play nice~”

Pulling on the lining of their pants and underwear I’d watch as Stan- no, Thorn would reach inside and move to slowly withdraw their 'weapon' from its sheath, bringing it close to my open mouth and letting my humid and wet breath roll over the top of its head. 

“I want her mouth, I always thought they talked too much so I’m going to finally shut her up.” I felt it smoosh against the side of my cheek before it was suddenly thrust against the fat of my lips, there’d be no resisting as a sudden roll of their hips sent it into my mouth and grazed my tongue with salty pre.

“Mergh.”

“Aww, bitch looks cute with something in her mouth but I bet she’d look even better with some up her ass.” I writhed slightly at his prodding touch as he slid a hand between my cheeks to play with my puckering ring of muscle, he was going to glaze my donut! I would’ve begged but you know, my mouth was full.

“I think it time to give this puppy her bone,” the mutt was gloating, I had to do something but I wasn’t really in a position to resist except to send Theresa, a furtive glance and a pleading look. All I got in return was her squeezing one of my tits hard.

My mouth felt wet and heavy, like thickening honey on my tongue, leaden, full of half-swallowed needy sounds that made my apparent state known to all who could hear them, everything seemed so far off.

“Aww, I think she’s about to pass out. I mean the class-As we asked her mistress to load her up should be kicking in now.”

Speared on the mutts cock I felt like a hunted animal only spotting the hunter's lance far too late, skewered by his rod I found my thighs tighten around him, gripping him with the sharpness of need.

There wasn't a pause or cry for a reprieve merely something filling my mouth as my ass was filled. I felt the head break through my stretched asshole, accepting him more easily now with his care or lack of it as it slid up against my interior and forced me to buck in his lap, but it did little good as his position only made sure my struggles would work it further in, the hardened rod was now fully encompassed; my hands gripping the dogman for support as I got used to this new 'indignity'.

Eventually, I lost track of time I was left a mess and I think someone had cleaned off in my hair, it felt sticky.

“Aww, is my little petal tuckered out? Well, let's get you home so we can clean you up.” I was being lifted, and despite it all, I felt a warmth inside me and not just from the load buried deep in my ass, no this was more of a need being satisfied.

“Don’t worry flower, I’ve already booked a playdate with your friends for next week.” Oh fuck, or more correctly I was fucked.