Additional disclaimer: The preview does not retain italics when I copy/paste, and there's no way in hell I'm going back through each and every one of these uploads in order to fix it. As a result, keep in mind the RTF file might make for a more readable experience.
WC: 2,743 TW: peril, brief suffocation, mindwipe",
"writing": "[b][right]FA: ~Dead_Monsoon\nDiscord & Telegram: mobydawuf[/right]\nHypnovember 2020, day 12: Plants(latex drone TF)\nThemes: alien flora / nullification / mindwipe\nWord count: 2,743\nCommissioned by: ~Conri_Whelan\n ———————————————————————————[/b]\n\n“This place is incredible!”\n\nConri the ocelot lumbers awkwardly through bright red sand, huffing with satisfaction within the confines of his space suit. Enormous dunes span the surface of the mysterious, unnamed planet; pure, untouched nature. No life as far as the eye can see, but the towering structures of sand sure put on the best display they can.\n\n“Not bad, eh?” The voice of Mobius, his crewmate, crackles through his radio transceiver. “If only we could live here... just got the latest readings on the atmospheric composition... damn, so close. There’s even oxygen for crying out loud!”\n\n“Wow, for real? Why’d we even bother with these suits?”\n\n“Well if you want a swift reunion with every last meal you’ve had the past few days, by means, pop that sucker off.”\n\nConri chuckles. “Guess that’s a resounding no, then.”\n\n“Yeah, there’s nothing outright toxic here, but definitely not stuff you want in your system. You’d need one hell of a pair of lungs to live here.”\n\n“Still, wouldn’t mind living here just for the sights alone... they could just make domes, right?”\n\n“Yeah, suppose so. But it’s gonna be a loooong time before settling starts to happen. For now we just scout around, see what it has to offer.”\n\n“Yup, got it.” Conri scans the scenery intently, hoping to find a sign of... well, anything interesting. The sand sure is pretty, but surely a well-furbished planet like this has something else to offer... as he crests a small hilltop, his sharp eyes land on an irregularity in the terrain. A dark spot on the side of a sharp incline, like some sort of... cave entrance?\n\nConri gasps. “Woah, I got a visual! Some sort of big hole up ahead!” \n\n“For real? Does it look artificial?”\n\n“Cant say yet... lemme get closer.” After a few more minutes of ponderous movement, the ocelot stand before a looming, 15 foot tall gap in the sand, nearly perfectly round. There’s no way in hell the sand hasn’t collapsed over it... without some sort of underlying support system. Conri grins widely.\n\n“That would be an affirmative. Mobi, this could be the first sign of extra-terrestrial life ever discovered! We’re gonna be in the history books!” Conri can barely keep the excitement out of his voice, quivering so much that he almost loses his footing on the treacherous sand.\n\nMobius chuckles. “Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. You should have enough breath left for a quick scouting mission, but don’t go fooling around in there too long, okay?”\n\n“Yep, you got it.” Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Conri heads on into the abyss, a pair of small lamps on his shoulders automatically flickering on to light the way.\n\nThe tunnel continues on downward, lined with solid framework true to his predictions; some sort of ceramic, maybe? Most definitely not any sort of natural structure. \n\n“Mind giving me a video feed? May as well record whatever you’re going to find, and, well... you could probably use the extra pair of eyes.”\n\n“Yup, sure thing!” Conri reaches up and presses a button on the side of his helmet, broadcasting a live recording back to the station. \n\n“Well I’ll be damned... intelligent life, indeed. You ready to defend yourself?”\n\nConri nods, causing the camera to bob along to get the message across. He reaches down to feel at the handle of his large steel knife, razor sharp and ready to hack away at a moment’s notice.\n\nOn and on the cavern goes, the soft sound of shifting sands fading behind him. Each footstep echoes with considerable volume and duration, eliminating any chance at stealth. “What do you suppose this was? Some kind of fallout shelter maybe?” Conri says softly.\n\n“Cant say for sure. Awfully deep... maybe a civilization of ground dwellers? At any rate, I don’t know if you should be going too much farther... connection’s starting to struggle. I’m already losing visual.”\n\n“No it’s okay, I think I see something up ahead...” Sure enough, the tunnel finally expands into a very spacious chamber, packed with various forms of... alien... plant life! Conri gasps in awe, then starts as his heavy foot sinks into the ground a bit; he glances down to find that the floor in here is comprised of soil, not unlike the sort common on his home planet. \n\n“My god... it’s... some sort of... greenhouse!”\n\n“Come again?”\n\n“No I’m serious! There’s huge plants all over! This is amazing...” \n\nHe reaches out toward a cyan-tinted leaf as wide as his arm-span, and in a split second it shrinks down into a flower bud the size of a marble with a soft whooshing sound. He laughs with wonder.\n\n“Careful, Conri! We’ve never interacted with these species before. They could be poisonous... or carnivorous!”\n\n“Relax, Twitchy. I think I can protect myself from a space flower patch.” As his hand homes in on a patch of spiny red flowers, they bleed into a soft yellow and quiver slightly. “Holy shit... if only our plants were this fun!” \n\n“Conri, I’m serious. If something goes wrong down there there’s no way help’s gonna arrive in time. You’ve done your scouting, now let’s quit while we’re ahead, okay?”\n\nConri sighs in dramatic fashion. “Fine. I’m coming, I’m coming.” He reluctantly turns around and trudges back the way he came. As he gives the exotic flora one last fleeting glance, he could swear he could hear a soft voice, deep and raspy...\n\nDesssstroyyyyyyer...\n\nHe perks up, furrowing his brow. “Uh, Cameron? Is that you?”\n\n“Umm, no...” still Mobius’s voice. “Still me. And I didn’t say anything.”\n\nWretcheeeed destrooooyer...\n\n“Dude, seriously!” Conri pipes up. “Whoever’s doing the creepy ass voice, that’s not funny!”\n\n“Conri, I don’t hear anything... is there someone there with you?”\n\n“Uhhh...” back at the greenhouse entrance, Conri turns around, his jovial energy subsiding. “Just... just plants...” \n\nYouuuuu will destrooooooy nooooo longeeeeer...\n\n“Wh-who’s there?” Conri begins to breathe shakily, feeling at his knife hilt. \n\n“Conri. Get out of there. Now.”\n\nSome part of Conri agrees with the sentiment, and yet... he can’t bring himself to turn away from the plant life. Despite the two voices vying for his attention, an eerie feeling of calm washes over him... his body relaxes, his hand slipping off the hilt as he gazes on into the foliage, oddly transfixed by their subtle movements. Mobius’s increasingly frantic and tingy words don’t even register to him anymore... all he can focus on is the dazzling ensemble of exotic flora.\n\n“I...”\n\nA guaaaardian is neeeeeded...\n\nBreathing deeply and softly, Conri takes a slow step forward, away from the exit. Then another. And another. For some reason the ominous voice doesn’t scare him at all anymore. It only awakens a strange, inexplicable longing within him.\n\n“...I’m...” Conri speaks in a soft, drawling manner, his lips barely moving. “I’m... no destroyer...”\n\nYouuuu will renoooounce the way of the destrooooyer... \n\nThe strange leaves rustle, and a long green and yellow stalk emerges, sporting some sort of large round bulb on its tip. It brandishes the bulb, glowing and pulsing with a surreal fluorescent light, pointing it directly at Conri’s face. An enormous wave of calm rushes over him, smothering even his previous state of mild, uncertain calm. He fails to suppress a gentle moan, as well as a gentle twitch deep within the lower confines of his suit. \n\nbecooooome… our guaaaaardian…\n\nThe stalk retracts with a slow, smooth motion, still pointing its bulb straight forward. Conri shuffles after it, his previous caution going out the window as numerous leaves brush against his suit. A few of them create a soft hissing sound, and a small portion of the fabric begins to sizzle and melt. A tiny alarm sound beings to go off, and Mobius’s barely decipherable voice becomes desperate, but it’s still not enough to divert Conri’s mind from that strange, wonderful guiding light. “B… become…”\n\nAfter paving through several dozen feet of dense greenery, he finally comes upon a clearing, at the center of which stands an absolutely monstrous plant, comprised of several mustard yellow stalks twisted together and towering at least 20 feet into the darkness above. They splay outward at various heights and directions, extending their reach into the underground forest with impunity. One of them reveals itself to be Conri’s guide, reaching down from halfway up the plant’s length and maintaining its spectacle. But not all of the thing’s stalks spread themselves outward as far as they can go; a couple, in fact, each tote some sort of big hollow receptacle, like a sack, with their round holes wide enough to fit a person well exposed. Many of their rims drip with some sort of gooey black liquid.\n\nConri is guided right up toward the base of the plant, now devoid of conscious thought. That incessant chatty voice whose words don’t even register to him anymore gives way to a stuttering crackle, then finally goes silent. The suit’s alarms drone on, warning of multiple severe breaches and rapidly declining concentration of breathing air, but still Conri is unable to process anything except what this bizarre being wants for him.\n\nA guaaaardian. Thiiiiiis is your deeeeeestiny.\n\nThe husky voice sounds much louder and stronger all of a sudden, leaving little room for doubt as to its origin. \n\n“B...become... a g-guardian...”\n\nA pair of tendrils reach out and coil around his body, gripping him tightly and lifting him up into the air, much to his placid indifference.\n\nSureeeeender your miiiiind. It is of no uuuuuse for a guaaaardian.\n\n“Surrender... my mind...” Conri completely melts in the tendrils’ grip, his head lolling back, his maw dripping profusely, and every ounce of tension in his body fading away. He dimly feels his lungs starting to ache, but even that isn’t enough to divert his attention. The glowing bulb follows him on his way up, ensuring he doesn’t miss out on the show.\n\nSurreeeeender your thooooughts. Thooooughts breed oooonly destruuuuction.\n\n“S-Surrender my thoughts...” Conri’s voice becomes more level and confident as he’s brought 10 feet in the air and maneuvered toward the nearest pitcher, filled to the brim with its foul tar-like substance. \n\nSurreeeeender your veeeery liiiife.\n\nConri’s feet dangle inches above the only abyss. He’s held still as the bulb homes in on his face, bombarding him with a full spectrum of hypnotic lights and colors. His senses become so overloaded that he can’t even muster the will to echo the alien’s will.\n\nSeeeeerve the collectiiiive. Becooooome a guaaaaardian. FOOOOREEEEEVEEEEER. \n\nThe tendrils instantly slacken, and Conri slips right through them, left to fall limply into the giant pitcher, and crash into its fluid. With the suit still protecting him, he only feels a soft pressure all over his body for the first few seconds as he sinks. But after a few seconds of dead silence, a loud hissing sound floods his ears, like the world’s largest soda can releasing its carbonation. All at once, his suit simply dissolves; every component, every gadget, every accessory and piece of clothing beneath the suit is eaten away by the goo in an efficient manner. Which inevitably results in the goo making contact with Conri skin, and...\n\nBefore he even feels it his body convulses violently, involuntarily reacting to the goo’s advance. Then all at once, it comes over him. A MASSIVE wave of the weirdest, most indescribable sensation he’s ever felt; it completely overwhelms what little scraps of intelligent, independent consciousness remain. The goo squeezes against his naked body with incredible force, seeming to press its way into his very skin. The feeling is so sudden and drastic that it takes a few seconds for him to register that it feels good... so, incredibly, unfathomably, mind-shatteringly good. \n\nConri opens his mouth in an attempt to moan, perhaps even scream, but that only invites the goo to surge down his throat, hopelessly plugging his already flagging airflow, leaving him no hope for further respiration. He continues to thrash, blind and mute, helpless to escape his pitcher pod as the hole on top seals itself shut, putting him utterly at the plant’s mercy. His lungs burn from the lack of air... then he feels something else enter his throat. Something more solid, piercing through the sludge and worming its way down his gullet. Then, the distinct sensation of being filled... and just like that, the burning fades away. He’s still not breathing, but somehow, whatever the plant has done to him is sustaining him.\n\nAs the mysterious object surges back out, the goo presses tighter and tighter against his body, not a single pore of his skin safe from its advance. That mind numbingly blissful sensation hammers away at his addled mind, beating it into submission, and the pressure mounts, and mounts... until it seems to push right into his very body. He shudders silently, surrendering himself to the plant’s sinister procedure. Its voice continues to speak and echo in his mind, goading him on to relinquish his thoughts, cease to destroy, only protect. He internalizes every word, accepting it as his very own gospel. The poor creature ceases to be an ocelot named Conri; only a mindless, obedient drone in his place.\n\nFinally, the goo surrounding the drone grows still, and for a few seconds complete silence reigns. Then comes a soft gurgling noise, which signals the goo slowly being drained out of the pitcher. But as the drone’s physique reveals itself in the absence of excess goo, not a single trace of fur or color is visible. A thin layer of the goo persists, clinging to its body, having fusing itself to the drone’s exterior. The distinct shape of a feline head appears, but no eyes, nose or mouth are revealed; only a pure black featureless snout and motionless ears. The rest of its body proves to be much the same, nothing but pure black all over. In place of its otherwise rigid cock is only a simple, smooth lump between its legs. It sits calmly inside its pod, have ceased all rebellion, with only thoughts of being a loyal guardian and protecting the lush alien plant life on its mind.\n\nThen comes a soft rustling, along with a gentle falling sensation. The pitcher housing its quarry lowers to the ground, tips forward, and reopens its tip. The creature climbs out with smooth, robotic motions, and stands up rigidly with fists to the sides of its body. Its pitch black skin gleams in the faint light of the greenhouse, and even in this paltry atmosphere, a gentle rubbing sound resembling that of latex can be heard with every little motion. \n\nSerrrrrve. proteeeeeect.\n\nThe sound of the familiar voice, now crystal clear in the drone’s mind, immediately triggers a newly built-in instinct; it drops to one knee, bows its head and slams a fist to its chest, submitting itself to its merciful creator, drinking in every last command the plant sees fit to give it. Its bulge throbs madly, subjecting its blank mind to constant tantalizing pleasure, despite its inability to act on it. \n\nPleeeeedge as an eterrrrrrnal guaaaardian.\n\nThe drone bows its head further. It’s unable to speak, but its Master doesn’t appear to require any further confirmation.\n\nFirrrrst, you must feeeeeed.\n\nA new stalk emerges from the bowels of the twisted tower of greenery, this one a darker green than the rest. Only a hollow open end is visible on its tip, pointed directly at the drone’s face as it stands stiffly back up. The latex on the tip of the drone’s snout begins to cave in, inch after inch, until a thick, wide tunnel forms in an unnatural imitation of a mouth and throat. The stalk seizes upon the invitation, plunging into the newfound hole and forcing its way down further and further until it reaches into its central body. There, it begins to pump forth what the drone would use as fuel; its substitute for food, air and water, all in one. It unloads a good few pounds before wiggling its way back out, the latex resealing behind it back into a face devoid of features.\n\nNoooooow, go fooooorth, my guaaaardian. Seeeeeerve and proteeeeect. Embraaaace your new purpoooooose.\n\nThe drone salutes once again with equal fervor, then marches away in the direction of the greenhouse entrance, squeaking softly along with every step. Whoever gets the idea to pilfer, or even destroy these sacred grounds will be getting quite the surprise indeed.",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "
Conri the ocelot lumbers awkwardly through bright red sand, huffing with satisfaction within the confines of his space suit. Enormous dunes span the surface of the mysterious, unnamed planet; pure, untouched nature. No life as far as the eye can see, but the towering structures of sand sure put on the best display they can.
“Not bad, eh?” The voice of Mobius, his crewmate, crackles through his radio transceiver. “If only we could live here... just got the latest readings on the atmospheric composition... damn, so close. There’s even oxygen for crying out loud!”
“Wow, for real? Why’d we even bother with these suits?”
“Well if you want a swift reunion with every last meal you’ve had the past few days, by means, pop that sucker off.”
Conri chuckles. “Guess that’s a resounding no, then.”
“Yeah, there’s nothing outright toxic here, but definitely not stuff you want in your system. You’d need one hell of a pair of lungs to live here.”
“Still, wouldn’t mind living here just for the sights alone... they could just make domes, right?”
“Yeah, suppose so. But it’s gonna be a loooong time before settling starts to happen. For now we just scout around, see what it has to offer.”
“Yup, got it.” Conri scans the scenery intently, hoping to find a sign of... well, anything interesting. The sand sure is pretty, but surely a well-furbished planet like this has something else to offer... as he crests a small hilltop, his sharp eyes land on an irregularity in the terrain. A dark spot on the side of a sharp incline, like some sort of... cave entrance?
Conri gasps. “Woah, I got a visual! Some sort of big hole up ahead!”
“For real? Does it look artificial?”
“Cant say yet... lemme get closer.” After a few more minutes of ponderous movement, the ocelot stand before a looming, 15 foot tall gap in the sand, nearly perfectly round. There’s no way in hell the sand hasn’t collapsed over it... without some sort of underlying support system. Conri grins widely.
“That would be an affirmative. Mobi, this could be the first sign of extra-terrestrial life ever discovered! We’re gonna be in the history books!” Conri can barely keep the excitement out of his voice, quivering so much that he almost loses his footing on the treacherous sand.
Mobius chuckles. “Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. You should have enough breath left for a quick scouting mission, but don’t go fooling around in there too long, okay?”
“Yep, you got it.” Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Conri heads on into the abyss, a pair of small lamps on his shoulders automatically flickering on to light the way.
The tunnel continues on downward, lined with solid framework true to his predictions; some sort of ceramic, maybe? Most definitely not any sort of natural structure.
“Mind giving me a video feed? May as well record whatever you’re going to find, and, well... you could probably use the extra pair of eyes.”
“Yup, sure thing!” Conri reaches up and presses a button on the side of his helmet, broadcasting a live recording back to the station.
“Well I’ll be damned... intelligent life, indeed. You ready to defend yourself?”
Conri nods, causing the camera to bob along to get the message across. He reaches down to feel at the handle of his large steel knife, razor sharp and ready to hack away at a moment’s notice.
On and on the cavern goes, the soft sound of shifting sands fading behind him. Each footstep echoes with considerable volume and duration, eliminating any chance at stealth. “What do you suppose this was? Some kind of fallout shelter maybe?” Conri says softly.
“Cant say for sure. Awfully deep... maybe a civilization of ground dwellers? At any rate, I don’t know if you should be going too much farther... connection’s starting to struggle. I’m already losing visual.”
“No it’s okay, I think I see something up ahead...” Sure enough, the tunnel finally expands into a very spacious chamber, packed with various forms of... alien... plant life! Conri gasps in awe, then starts as his heavy foot sinks into the ground a bit; he glances down to find that the floor in here is comprised of soil, not unlike the sort common on his home planet.
“My god... it’s... some sort of... greenhouse!”
“Come again?”
“No I’m serious! There’s huge plants all over! This is amazing...”
He reaches out toward a cyan-tinted leaf as wide as his arm-span, and in a split second it shrinks down into a flower bud the size of a marble with a soft whooshing sound. He laughs with wonder.
“Careful, Conri! We’ve never interacted with these species before. They could be poisonous... or carnivorous!”
“Relax, Twitchy. I think I can protect myself from a space flower patch.” As his hand homes in on a patch of spiny red flowers, they bleed into a soft yellow and quiver slightly. “Holy shit... if only our plants were this fun!”
“Conri, I’m serious. If something goes wrong down there there’s no way help’s gonna arrive in time. You’ve done your scouting, now let’s quit while we’re ahead, okay?”
Conri sighs in dramatic fashion. “Fine. I’m coming, I’m coming.” He reluctantly turns around and trudges back the way he came. As he gives the exotic flora one last fleeting glance, he could swear he could hear a soft voice, deep and raspy...
Desssstroyyyyyyer...
He perks up, furrowing his brow. “Uh, Cameron? Is that you?”
“Umm, no...” still Mobius’s voice. “Still me. And I didn’t say anything.”
Wretcheeeed destrooooyer...
“Dude, seriously!” Conri pipes up. “Whoever’s doing the creepy ass voice, that’s not funny!”
“Conri, I don’t hear anything... is there someone there with you?”
“Uhhh...” back at the greenhouse entrance, Conri turns around, his jovial energy subsiding. “Just... just plants...”
Youuuuu will destrooooooy nooooo longeeeeer...
“Wh-who’s there?” Conri begins to breathe shakily, feeling at his knife hilt.
“Conri. Get out of there. Now.”
Some part of Conri agrees with the sentiment, and yet... he can’t bring himself to turn away from the plant life. Despite the two voices vying for his attention, an eerie feeling of calm washes over him... his body relaxes, his hand slipping off the hilt as he gazes on into the foliage, oddly transfixed by their subtle movements. Mobius’s increasingly frantic and tingy words don’t even register to him anymore... all he can focus on is the dazzling ensemble of exotic flora.
“I...”
A guaaaardian is neeeeeded...
Breathing deeply and softly, Conri takes a slow step forward, away from the exit. Then another. And another. For some reason the ominous voice doesn’t scare him at all anymore. It only awakens a strange, inexplicable longing within him.
“...I’m...” Conri speaks in a soft, drawling manner, his lips barely moving. “I’m... no destroyer...”
Youuuu will renoooounce the way of the destrooooyer...
The strange leaves rustle, and a long green and yellow stalk emerges, sporting some sort of large round bulb on its tip. It brandishes the bulb, glowing and pulsing with a surreal fluorescent light, pointing it directly at Conri’s face. An enormous wave of calm rushes over him, smothering even his previous state of mild, uncertain calm. He fails to suppress a gentle moan, as well as a gentle twitch deep within the lower confines of his suit.
becooooome… our guaaaaardian…
The stalk retracts with a slow, smooth motion, still pointing its bulb straight forward. Conri shuffles after it, his previous caution going out the window as numerous leaves brush against his suit. A few of them create a soft hissing sound, and a small portion of the fabric begins to sizzle and melt. A tiny alarm sound beings to go off, and Mobius’s barely decipherable voice becomes desperate, but it’s still not enough to divert Conri’s mind from that strange, wonderful guiding light. “B… become…”
After paving through several dozen feet of dense greenery, he finally comes upon a clearing, at the center of which stands an absolutely monstrous plant, comprised of several mustard yellow stalks twisted together and towering at least 20 feet into the darkness above. They splay outward at various heights and directions, extending their reach into the underground forest with impunity. One of them reveals itself to be Conri’s guide, reaching down from halfway up the plant’s length and maintaining its spectacle. But not all of the thing’s stalks spread themselves outward as far as they can go; a couple, in fact, each tote some sort of big hollow receptacle, like a sack, with their round holes wide enough to fit a person well exposed. Many of their rims drip with some sort of gooey black liquid.
Conri is guided right up toward the base of the plant, now devoid of conscious thought. That incessant chatty voice whose words don’t even register to him anymore gives way to a stuttering crackle, then finally goes silent. The suit’s alarms drone on, warning of multiple severe breaches and rapidly declining concentration of breathing air, but still Conri is unable to process anything except what this bizarre being wants for him.
A guaaaardian. Thiiiiiis is your deeeeeestiny.
The husky voice sounds much louder and stronger all of a sudden, leaving little room for doubt as to its origin.
“B...become... a g-guardian...”
A pair of tendrils reach out and coil around his body, gripping him tightly and lifting him up into the air, much to his placid indifference.
Sureeeeender your miiiiind. It is of no uuuuuse for a guaaaardian.
“Surrender... my mind...” Conri completely melts in the tendrils’ grip, his head lolling back, his maw dripping profusely, and every ounce of tension in his body fading away. He dimly feels his lungs starting to ache, but even that isn’t enough to divert his attention. The glowing bulb follows him on his way up, ensuring he doesn’t miss out on the show.
Surreeeeender your thooooughts. Thooooughts breed oooonly destruuuuction.
“S-Surrender my thoughts...” Conri’s voice becomes more level and confident as he’s brought 10 feet in the air and maneuvered toward the nearest pitcher, filled to the brim with its foul tar-like substance.
Surreeeeender your veeeery liiiife.
Conri’s feet dangle inches above the only abyss. He’s held still as the bulb homes in on his face, bombarding him with a full spectrum of hypnotic lights and colors. His senses become so overloaded that he can’t even muster the will to echo the alien’s will.
Seeeeerve the collectiiiive. Becooooome a guaaaaardian. FOOOOREEEEEVEEEEER.
The tendrils instantly slacken, and Conri slips right through them, left to fall limply into the giant pitcher, and crash into its fluid. With the suit still protecting him, he only feels a soft pressure all over his body for the first few seconds as he sinks. But after a few seconds of dead silence, a loud hissing sound floods his ears, like the world’s largest soda can releasing its carbonation. All at once, his suit simply dissolves; every component, every gadget, every accessory and piece of clothing beneath the suit is eaten away by the goo in an efficient manner. Which inevitably results in the goo making contact with Conri skin, and...
Before he even feels it his body convulses violently, involuntarily reacting to the goo’s advance. Then all at once, it comes over him. A MASSIVE wave of the weirdest, most indescribable sensation he’s ever felt; it completely overwhelms what little scraps of intelligent, independent consciousness remain. The goo squeezes against his naked body with incredible force, seeming to press its way into his very skin. The feeling is so sudden and drastic that it takes a few seconds for him to register that it feels good... so, incredibly, unfathomably, mind-shatteringly good.
Conri opens his mouth in an attempt to moan, perhaps even scream, but that only invites the goo to surge down his throat, hopelessly plugging his already flagging airflow, leaving him no hope for further respiration. He continues to thrash, blind and mute, helpless to escape his pitcher pod as the hole on top seals itself shut, putting him utterly at the plant’s mercy. His lungs burn from the lack of air... then he feels something else enter his throat. Something more solid, piercing through the sludge and worming its way down his gullet. Then, the distinct sensation of being filled... and just like that, the burning fades away. He’s still not breathing, but somehow, whatever the plant has done to him is sustaining him.
As the mysterious object surges back out, the goo presses tighter and tighter against his body, not a single pore of his skin safe from its advance. That mind numbingly blissful sensation hammers away at his addled mind, beating it into submission, and the pressure mounts, and mounts... until it seems to push right into his very body. He shudders silently, surrendering himself to the plant’s sinister procedure. Its voice continues to speak and echo in his mind, goading him on to relinquish his thoughts, cease to destroy, only protect. He internalizes every word, accepting it as his very own gospel. The poor creature ceases to be an ocelot named Conri; only a mindless, obedient drone in his place.
Finally, the goo surrounding the drone grows still, and for a few seconds complete silence reigns. Then comes a soft gurgling noise, which signals the goo slowly being drained out of the pitcher. But as the drone’s physique reveals itself in the absence of excess goo, not a single trace of fur or color is visible. A thin layer of the goo persists, clinging to its body, having fusing itself to the drone’s exterior. The distinct shape of a feline head appears, but no eyes, nose or mouth are revealed; only a pure black featureless snout and motionless ears. The rest of its body proves to be much the same, nothing but pure black all over. In place of its otherwise rigid cock is only a simple, smooth lump between its legs. It sits calmly inside its pod, have ceased all rebellion, with only thoughts of being a loyal guardian and protecting the lush alien plant life on its mind.
Then comes a soft rustling, along with a gentle falling sensation. The pitcher housing its quarry lowers to the ground, tips forward, and reopens its tip. The creature climbs out with smooth, robotic motions, and stands up rigidly with fists to the sides of its body. Its pitch black skin gleams in the faint light of the greenhouse, and even in this paltry atmosphere, a gentle rubbing sound resembling that of latex can be heard with every little motion.
Serrrrrve. proteeeeeect.
The sound of the familiar voice, now crystal clear in the drone’s mind, immediately triggers a newly built-in instinct; it drops to one knee, bows its head and slams a fist to its chest, submitting itself to its merciful creator, drinking in every last command the plant sees fit to give it. Its bulge throbs madly, subjecting its blank mind to constant tantalizing pleasure, despite its inability to act on it.
Pleeeeedge as an eterrrrrrnal guaaaardian.
The drone bows its head further. It’s unable to speak, but its Master doesn’t appear to require any further confirmation.
Firrrrst, you must feeeeeed.
A new stalk emerges from the bowels of the twisted tower of greenery, this one a darker green than the rest. Only a hollow open end is visible on its tip, pointed directly at the drone’s face as it stands stiffly back up. The latex on the tip of the drone’s snout begins to cave in, inch after inch, until a thick, wide tunnel forms in an unnatural imitation of a mouth and throat. The stalk seizes upon the invitation, plunging into the newfound hole and forcing its way down further and further until it reaches into its central body. There, it begins to pump forth what the drone would use as fuel; its substitute for food, air and water, all in one. It unloads a good few pounds before wiggling its way back out, the latex resealing behind it back into a face devoid of features.
Noooooow, go fooooorth, my guaaaardian. Seeeeeerve and proteeeeect. Embraaaace your new purpoooooose.
The drone salutes once again with equal fervor, then marches away in the direction of the greenhouse entrance, squeaking softly along with every step. Whoever gets the idea to pilfer, or even destroy these sacred grounds will be getting quite the surprise indeed.",
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"title": "Legacy Sampler #13: Latex plant drone TF",
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