Mouse, Trapped!
A Leechvine Variant One-Shot
By Rix Writes

The moment that everything went wrong for Neiva, she knew she was in a great deal of trouble. As dozens of thin green vines sprang to life all around her, quickly wrapping around wrists and arms, tiny thorns digging in and scratching her skin through the thin fur, she cried out in surprise and fear. She didn’t know exactly what the plant connected to the vines would do, but the warnings from her client had been very clear.  If she was caught, she would not survive the encounter.  Just out of reach was a single huge berry, plump and glistening with dew.  The fruit that she’d been hired to get her hands on.

Despite knowing that she was completely alone, she screamed for help as more of the tough, fibrous vines began to tangle and twine themselves around her arms, her legs, her torso.  Most worrisome, one wrapped around her neck, making it hard for the mouse to breathe.  Tail lashing and twisting, she tried to use it to pry one or two of the vines away, but to no avail.  She could do a lot of things with that tail, but it wasn’t strong enough, and there were far too many of them in any case.

The humid heat of the thick jungle grew oppressive as the thorny vines shredded what little clothing she’d been wearing, though not drawing blood in more than a few places.  As she tried to call for help, the pack she’d been carrying with her communicator dropped to the ground as the fabric strap was torn. A low whimper of fear spilled from her lips, her last hope of salvation dropped to the ground and out of reach.

Within moments, the mouse was left in nothing but tattered rags, little scrapes and scratches all through her nearly completely white fur. The few spots where blood had welled up from a deeper scrape turned the fur pink, though the black geometric patterns she’d dyed in spots hid the scrapes a lot better.  A low, horrified sense of despair settled into the mouse, and she let out a tiny sob.

There was a rustle behind the mouse, and Neiva craned her neck to look back, and soon she wished she hadn’t. The foliage had parted, revealing what had been hidden there. The whole plant was huge, and two thick, slick looking vines were emerging from a strange-looking bulb that looked almost like a closed  purple flowerbud.  Just beneath it was a fleshy, wrinkled pouch that sprouted from the pale green stalk.  A stalk that looked wider than Neiva’s body.

Before she could figure out what exactly the two thicker vines were for, they slithered closer to her.  The tips were bumpy and wider than the rest of the vine, looking disturbingly similar to the head of a penis. The vines entangling her slithered and writhed around her body, seeming to explore every inch that they could.  As the new vines drew closer, they seemed to shake, and then as one, they struck, moving with lightning speed.

The strangled and surprised cry that came from Neiva’s lips was filled with horror and fear. One began to shove under her tail, the slick head forcing the tight ring of flesh to admit it, pain blossoming there at the sudden invasion, while the other forced its way between the petals of her sex and shoved into her cunt with significantly less effort.  “Nooooo!”  Neiva shrieked, jerking and twisting, renewed strength trying to get her to tear herself free of this intimate invasion, but to no avail.  Helpless to stop the invasive tentacles, she felt them force themselves into her.  Suddenly, she felt a swelling within her, a stretching and aching that confused her.  The bulbous tips somehow felt even larger now, starting to make her insides throb and ache with the stretch.  Neiva whimpered… they felt huge now, like softballs or even small melons.

Suddenly, the tense, fibrous vines relaxed and began to fall away from Neiva.  For just one moment, she thought that they’d let her go for some reason, but then she felt two hard tugs on the thick vines buried in her.  Locked inside her, they were beginning to retract, drawing back toward the bulb. Neiva’s blood ran cold at the implication.  That fleshy pouch beneath the bulb was beginning to squirm, strange bumpy tendrils that looked thicker than the first set, were pushing into the pouch.  And she was being drawn toward it, reeled in by the thick vines whose massive bulbs had locked into her, keeping them from slipping out!

Neiva screamed again, trying to use her claws to dig into the thick vines, stepping forward as the plant kept reeling her in, not wanting to fall down.  The bulb was higher off the ground than her head… if she didn’t find a way to tear the thing, it would lift her off her feet so she was hanging by the damn things.  “Someone, anyone, come on!  Help!” she yelled, to no avail.  The pay for the job had been so good though.  They’d told her the danger, told her that the plant was carnivorous.  That the fruit it had was an intense narcotic that had no side effects, and each one was worth ten times what Neiva was being paid.  Now, though, the pay certainly didn’t seem worth it, that was for sure.

Little scratches scored the thick vines, but nothing that Neiva did seemed to do any good, and soon she was through the wall of foliage, only metres away from that bulb.  “No… no, no!” she babbled, scratching at the vines frantically to the point that she snapped one of her claws.  As she was drawn closer, she let herself fall forward, trying to savagely chew at the things.  Now dragged through the underbrush, she moaned when she got too close and she felt her body being tugged upwards.  At first it didn’t hurt all that much, but as she began to be lifted off the jungle floor, she was unable to keep up the biting and clawing.  As her backside rose into the air, she tried to use her hands to take the weight off, but soon her cries were those of pain as her whole weight soon hung from the twin bulbs in her.

Centimeter by centimeter, she rose into the air, toward the lip of that bulb, and she slumped down helplessly.  There was no stopping this, no fighting it. That fleshy pouch was obviously her destination, and that there was where she would die.  Just as her head reached where it would have been if she’d been standing up, she felt the slick lip of the strange bulb envelop her ass. It was tight and slick, and felt more like a mouth than anything. Pulled deeper in, her legs were pressed up against her chest as she was slowly drawn in.

Within the bulb it was warm and slick and whatever was inside made her skin tingle.  She knew she should fight, but the frantic fighting she’d already done, the sense of defeat and despair, and the dissipation of the adrenaline that had drove her to struggle had left her with little energy to fight.  Tears welled up in her eyes as the lip of the bulb reached her breasts, squashed against her by her legs.  And then, she got her last unobstructed look at the thick jungle around her before her head slipped into the plant.

Inside it was cloyingly hot and humid, but she was still being drawn deeper and deeper.  From within the ‘throat’, those bumpy vines she’d seen in the pouch started entwining themselves around her.  As she felt her feet, then her hands, and lastly the tip of her tail disappear into the body of the plant, she felt the bulbs inside her beginning to deflate, but by now it was far too late.  She could feel the bumpy vines now guiding the progress of her body, and the bulb began to undulate, squeezing her farther down.  A ragged little sob came from her while more and more of the bumpy vines wrapped around her, guiding her toward the pouch in complete darkness.

As the mouse felt herself tugging deeper and deeper into the plant’s strange gullet, slime soaked into her fur, smearing all over.  Where it touched bare skin, there was a soft tingling that began to spread into a burning sensation. Oh god, it’s acid, oh fuck! Neiva thought in a panic. Suddenly, she felt her lower holes vacated fully, and she felt her body guided into the pouch. The pouch, smaller than her body at first, stretched out to accommodate her, and she realized as her head slipped into the pouch that it was translucent.  Stretched further, she could see the jungle through the thin, stretchy membrane.  The bumpy vines, writhing and wriggling, repositioned her so her legs were straight down, her arms behind her.  The tight confines of the pouch were filled with the acrid scent of the slime that now coated her body.  She gagged at the sharp scent that filled her nostrils, wondering how long she had to live… 

Curiously, though the burning sensation didn’t subside, in the muted light within the sack, she could see that the slime wasn’t burning her away.  The slime matted her fur, and made her skin feel hot and hypersensitive, but it was obviously not a digestive substance as she’d feared.  Still, the air in the small space was getting more and more thin. A mass of bumpy tentacles had wrapped around her fully now, and as one rubbed over her right nipple, she cried out at just how intense the sensation was. Her mind reeled, not comprehending what was happening; she’d expected that this plant would simply consume her, but for some reason it wasn’t.

All of a sudden, Neiva felt a thicker, bumpier vine shove back into her vagina, and that burning, ultra-sensitive sensation spread inside her. It began to squirm and wiggle, the textured bumps all over it starting to stimulate her inside. The cries that began to spill from her lips were ones of surprise laced with pleasure and fear. This thing, this plant, was raping her!

The limited air in the pouch was growing thinner and hotter, and with Neiva’s breath growing faster and her cries rising in pitch, she began to feel lightheaded. Without warning a mass of vines wrapped around her head and forced her head backward.  She tried to fight it, but they were incredibly strong and far too numerous to snap at, though she actually did manage to sever a few with her teeth all the same.

Two thin tendrils slithered out of the small opening at the top of the pouch.  The tips were hollow, the lengths of them slick with more of that slime.  Confusion filled Neiva’s mind, a mind that was slowly dimming from the lack of fresh air. With a sudden quick motion, they each shoved into one of her nostrils, drawing a howl of surprised pain in the midst of her half-ecstatic cries. Before Neiva could even process what they were doing, they had slid deeper, and a tickling sensation in her throat told her just how far in they were.  She tried to gag when they went down her throat, and her cries were cut off when they invaded deeper.  She felt herself about to cough, a pain in her chest blossoming into something different and utterly alien. Within her, the tips of the hollow vines expanded and sealed themselves into the two branched bronchioles that led to her lungs.

Neiva’s eyes went wide when air was forced directly into her lungs, then in a rush, they were vacated just as quickly.  This fucking plant was breathing for her, forcing her to inhale and exhale at its own rhythm!  It wasn’t long at all before she felt all her senses sharpen, along with a new, more concerning sensation.  Panic and fear began to subside, and though she knew that the sudden bubbly happiness and 
excitement was entirely artificial, she relaxed. 

She couldn’t even make a sound now, the strange tubes impeding her vocal cords entirely. Inside she wondered just how long she’d be here, or even whether or not she would survive this strange encounter with this plant. Yet another new vine slipped into the pouch from the top just and headed straight for her mouth. When the vines on her neck tightened, squeezing, she knew she should fight, but the vine in her sex began to renew its efforts at stimulating her, and she opened her mouth to cry out soundlessly.  Immediately, the new vine pressed in, with a dozen of the thinner ones wrapping around her muzzle.  The taste was strange, sweet and acrid at the same time, and when she bit down she found she coudn’t break the skin of this one.

When a steady flow of thick, viscous fluid began to ooze from the tip of the vine, Neiva understood what was required. The fear and the struggling was harder to hold on to, and there was nothing she could do to fight whatever this thing wanted of her, so why not?  She swallowed the first mouthful of the fluid, and as it passed her tongue she tasted something like honey and… semen?  As the first heavy glob of nectar hit her stomach, a fiery warmth began to spread outward.  It made her feel like her body had gone up a few centimetres in temperature, and when it hit her loins she tried to howl, but all that emerged was a gurgle. Arousal a dozen times stronger than she’d ever felt, an aching desire not unlike when she went into season, filled her loins.  Soon, she found herself squirming and bucking against the intrusive bumpy vine.

As the heat hit her chest, her breasts began to ache and itch, and in the dim blissful haze Neiva had fallen into, she wondered what was happening to them. The mass of bumpy vines all around her writhed and squeezed, something like a full body massage, working out knots. Any thoughts of fighting fled the mouse completely when two vines attached to her nipples, their tips wrapping around the thick nubs and starting to suckle. This plant, it definitely wanted something other than to simply consume her flesh, there was no doubt. As the heat reached her brain, almost all conscious thought fell away in a drug-induced haze of sexual desire and bliss.

When a thick-bulbed vine slithered around her and pressed under the mouse’s tail, she wanted to tell this most unusual lover ‘yes, do it!’.  Seeming to oblige, at least to her addled mind, it pressed into her.  It was huge, and should have hurt, but it was like her pain receptors had been switched off, and when it slid all the way in, the bulb simply came to rest and seemed to ‘blossom’ inside.  ‘Of course,’ Neiva thought, ‘waste removal.’ It was no surprise when another one, tiny and hollow, with a pinching sensation pressed into the small passage of her urethra. What was a surprise was something like the vines on her nipples attaching to the swollen nub of her clit and starting that suckling, massaging motion. 

In that instant, Neiva came, and her whole world went white with the startling power of her orgasm.  She twitched and bucked, and the gush of her pleasure was almost immediately absorbed into the surface of the bumpy vine. This… this was what it wanted, Neiva realized.  Her pleasure.  Something in the substance of her own sort of nectar was what this damnable plant wanted. That, and all her waste and -she realized with wonder-, her milk. Her breasts felt swollen now, and what else could the things on her nipples want?  Before she could process the question, before she could bring herself to wonder what would happen when her body was used up, when she couldn’t produce anything more for the plant, she felt another orgasm crash through her body.  Gurgling, she swallowed the nectar hungrily, and she let her entire world fade away in pleasure and stimulation and tight, wet warmth.

----

“Alright, people.  You know what to do.  We practiced this process a dozen times. Victor, tell your son to put his dick away and stop jerking it.  There’s work to do,” Dr Faren said.  A dozen lab techs in protective gear exploded into motion.  The mouse had done her job perfectly, though she’d not been aware this had been the expected outcome from the start.  He clucked his tongue regretfully.  She’d stay like that a few weeks.  There would be a time that they could safely extract her, and until then, she’d be rescued. Nobody wanted it to take the last step. They didn’t have her biosignature on file to clone her, and the expense wouldn’t be worth it anyway. Praxen was sending more than enough of their condemned that they’d be able to feed them to the plant. He should think of a name for it. Neiva’s Flower. Yes. For the first of the Facility’s contractors to be made use of by it.

He grinned as he strode up to the thin sheath of almost rubbery flesh that held the mouse inside the pouch.  “Oh fascinating,” He murmured.  He wondered if the geometric patterns on the mouse’s flesh were etched into her skin or not. He fondled the girl through the sheath of elastic flesh, pondering if she was even aware of their presence. He almost wished he could see the full process, but it wouldn’t be cost-effective.

Travis stepped up beside him.  He was wearing his credentials, unlike any of the other staff. The boy had just gotten his doctorate from the University of Praxen, and he was liked a puffed up peacock, wearing the credentials.  Travis Wilford, MsXb, PhD Bio, PhdXBio.  As the lab techs began their work of extracting the whole plant from the jungle area it was ensconced in, Faren grinned. 

The Facility was growing.