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"description": "By [url=https://www.furaffinity.net/user/odiousbird] odiousbird[/url]. Conceptualization: [url=https://www.furaffinity.net/view/41216590/]https://www.furaffinity.net/view/41216590/[/url]\nCharacters: (left to right) [url=https://www.furaffinity.net/user/deltad] deltad[/url][url=https://www.furaffinity.net/user/dev.0] Dev.0[/url][url=https://www.furaffinity.net/user/twistedsnakes] TwistedSnakes[/url][url=https://www.furaffinity.net/user/starfoth] StarFoth[/url][url=https://www.furaffinity.net/user/karava] Karava[/url]\n\n-----\n\nSallet, seeking to create content for his channel, travelled offworld to a far, far away plane oceanic plane. The world was tropical and would surely have made for an interesting exploration experience. The lush expanses of ocean and islands were beautiful here. The ocean foam gleamed off the surface, the clouds reflected pristinely off the surfaces of the lush waters. It was almost paradise. Seeking adventure, he boarded a tour boat headed for a circular island with a whirlpool known as \"the tomb\". But things went awry when an unexpected anomalous storm began to surge in and blew the boat off course. The navigator failed to beach the ship and it fell down into the whirlpool. Tens of Thousands on his stream watched as he plummeted to the depths with everyone else on board before the screen cut off.\n\nSallet realized the moment he fell into the fissure, that the Stream would not go well as he has planned. He continued falling into that starry expanse of which he had only a fleeting glimpse. He tried to speculate where he might have landed, but I must admit, such conjecture is futile. Still, the question of whose hands might someday hold Sallet's fate are unsettling to him. He knows that his apprehensions might never be allayed, and so he closes, realizing that perhaps, the ending has not yet been written.\n\nAs he fell he saw the ruins of countless other ships that had been dragged into the abyss on either side of him. He and the others were gravitating to the center as the ship was cast aside by an unseen force. And as they fell they began to lose consciousness. Slowly they faded from the waking world and drifted to sleep. Sallet awoke hours later with serious injuries and a dislocated arm in the midst of a jungle. He could hardly move, the pain was debilitating, and his head was hazy. He stumbled to his feet only to fall back down as pain shot through his legs.\n\n\"He-hello?!\" He cried out, stumbling over his words and barely able to muster the strength to yell. There was no response. He gathered his strength and tried to move onwards, knowing full well that rescue might not be possible unless he found some of the others. The island itself was mountainous with numerous strange rock formations. The landscape was impossible to have been formed naturally with the sculpted fjords and expanses laid before him. Even the plant life seemed strange, unlike anything he had seen before. He wandered for half an hour seeking signs of life before coming across a bizarre-looking red flower with a huge bulb protruding from its center. He approached it, which would be the last mistake he would ever be able to make. At lightning speed it split open to reveal a set of soft jaws that snatched him up with incredible force. Sallet could barely struggle and cry out. The bulb bulged and wiggled with his struggling form as it swallowed him.\n\nThe force of the bulb swallowing him dislocated his other arm with a resounding [i]POP[/i] as he was dropped into a pit filled with tar in the belly of the plant. He tried to kick and struggle in a pathetic display of resistance. His weak arms couldn't even support himself or have the strength to move of their own volition in the thick tar and his legs were too weak to make much of a difference, either. He could feel the tar invading his body and rending his flesh but in the process replacing it with a digested latex form. The plant was consuming his body for its organic nutrients and irreversibly changing him into a rubber-like creature made from its latex biowaste. The process was only painful at the start but as it replaced more and more of his body the feeling dissipated. In fact, the pain of his injuries went away completely but with a cost. His dislocated arms were healed in incorrectly, making them rigid rubber ebonite fixtures that could barely move and his legs, although just as beefy as before, were weak.\n\nAfter days had passed he was passed through a dropplet from the root of the plant where he plummeted into the rubber pits below. A miserable writhing mass of latex and chaos filled with the digested bodies of others, all writhing, all trying to crawl and call out, and all very much alive. Everyone in here was trapped inside this purgatory, crawling over each-other in a grotesque orgy of goo. The purgatory was fairly lit from anomalous sources of lighting that seemed to dance in place above the pits. Strange aetheric essences that illuminated the writhing pits of misery and highlighted every shiny, sleek detail of those trapped in here. From the distance, Sallet could witness what seemed to be a mound of bodies climbing over each-other, all reaching up toward the sky. In the far distance he could see a small pillar of light, a pinsize hole up above and every being in the pile was alive and tried to climb over one-another to the hole that was dozens of miles above them.\n\nSallet tried to stand up but as he did so, his feet sunk into the goop below and he found himself flopping over. His arms, now loosened, flopped around uselessly as he tried to use them. He resorted to crawling forward. The air hung with the overwhelming scent of tires that was enough to drive him mad. The slippery latex gliding across his body, caressing it and violating his senses in every way as he went forward. His mouth, forced agape by the ebonite structure that replaced his jaw, was inadvertently forcefed the latex as he slid forward. The goop tasted like condoms and felt heavy as it pushed its way through his simplified system and gushed out his urethra and anus. The endless cacophonous squeaking pounded in his head as he slid forward. Every one of his senses was being violated by the latex and the overwhelming feelings of dread were driving him insane. At several periods on his pointless journey to the mound, he was overwrought and stopped for a moment having an emotional breakdown. There was nothing else he could feel, there was nothing else he could sense, and there was virtually nothing he could do. What was this chaotic, eldritch place?\n\nWhen Sallet reached the mound after a week of travel, he struggled to rise up the incline and at multiple points was stepped on or forced down into the goop by others trying to climb up. His frustration welled as he was constantly forced below and his debilitations made it impossible for him to compete with anyone else. At long last he gave up trying to climb up, letting him be pushed under and trampled by the other latex denizens of this purgatory and sinking below the surface. In a fleeting moment he believed that he would be free from this nightmare and at least find solace in being submerged but he was wrong. The smell of tires was just as strong, the taste of the rubber being forced into his mouth as he sunk was just as powerful. The squeaking of his own body against the flow was just as wrenching. He could witness the horrible writhing forms and masses of the other suffering victims of the pit as he passed open pockets. And all the while, the rubber crushed his body and flowed forcefully through his system through his mouth and out of his sensitive dick and gaping rear.\n\nHis sanity depleted as the weeks went by as he slowly sunk below. Every visceral experience further traumatized him, shaped him, and made him submissive. By the time he reached the bottom of the pits he was a shadow of who he was. He retained his personality, albeit changed from the experience. He remembered his past life. He remembered who he was. But all of it felt like a dream. He felt like this was an inescapable, macabre living nightmare that he would be unable to free himself from. He couldn't even so much as close his eyes or drift to sleep any more by the time he reached the pods. The drip welled with his weight and plopped from the ceiling. But as he plummeted, he was forced to bear witness to a sight more unbelievable than anything else he has witnessed this far in the pits. A vast city made of latex. Everything. Tremendous pods and colonies dotted the world below with its brilliant latex shine illuminated by the aether. As his droplet fell, it was pulled by an unseen force toward a pseudopod was reaching out to grab him from one of the colonies. It was a terrifying sight, but one that didn't phase Sallet after every horror he had witnessed and experienced this far.\n\nLittle did he know that his rubbery nightmare was only beginning. He was pulled into one of the colonies where large a draconic humanoid awaited him. Without even enough time to moan or cry, one of them grabbed him by the dick with its clawed hands and carried him off. Latex squished from his cock as its tight grip got a hold of him. Rubbery goop from the pits gurgled out of his oral hole as he cried out. He was brought to a workshop illuminated in the same black that this whole world was made of and strapped down to an ebonite table. After a few minutes of weak flailing and crying, weakingly pushing against the single restraint that cinched around his chest, another dragonlike humanoid came up before him. Within' a moment it grabbed his rubber penis and pushed it painlessly and hard into his body. It melded perfectly inside him and he could still feel its pent up, throbbing desperation inside of his crotch.\n\nIt was then that the real work began. The craftsman used his claws to remove Sallet's arms and legs and moulded them into putty. They then proceeded to reach inside of his anus and hollowed him out, taking chunks of rubber from him as he writhed in place against the strap and set them aside. Sallet was now a hollowed out shell of his former self, with only a shadow of his form being intentionally maintained. His face was still recognizable, albeit smooth, rubbery, and with his mouth permanently agape. His spare mass was placed into a small oven where it would begin to melt and harden into a mould to form a plate before his very eyes. Sallet was then placed onto a potters' wheel adjacent to the workbench with a large spoke in the center to keep him upright. He could feel his cock, now on his inside and formless sliding against it as he went down. The craftsman began to spin him around, forming his body into a large living bottle. The creature smacked him, moulded him, removed and added parts to his body, and continued to make him into a shapely container. The force of being spun around on the spoke was enough to cause him to orgasm from his formless genitals now at the base of his body. After he was done on the wheel the craftsman bolted the plate made from his inside and limbs to his bottom.\n\nHis body was much harder to flex and move now. Everything was much more rigid and just as sensitive as before. He couldn't believe what he was feeling and could no longer resist. He kept his identifying features and knew perfectly well who he was, but all of that was irrelevant. He had been made into a liquid container now and dreaded what the purpose of all this was. But the biggest source of dread of all was the fact that deep down, he knew he would be immortalized here. He would live here for an indefinite amount of time, perhaps forever bound to this place. Perhaps he would be recycled into a different object someday, but no matter what there was no escaping this nightmare.\n\nYears went by with Sallet being frequently used to hold fluids ejaculated from the genitals of the denizens of this. He couldn't tell if it was urine or ejaculate that came from their penises. What he did know is that he was set out with other living bottles in various rooms around the colony. He and several other familiar faces would be placed inside this room, which he assumed was a lavatory of some sort, filled up with ejaculate, and then emptied out twice per day into a trough. He never understood the purpose of any of this and it wasn't his place to. He just had to guzzle the ejaculate from the penises of these monsters in this chaotic realm and orgasm as he was emptied. There were a few rooms serviced by same trough within' the community. And he recognized the other bottles and denizens with time, being able to tell them apart. His bizarre life became routine as he gulped gallons of ejaculate from his masters' penises every day. In time he began to think of the other bottles as his friends, and they seemed to feel the same way with him. They couldn't communicate, only being able to moan or cry to make noise.\n\nAnd as such, this is what became of his life. He and the other bottles would live in that colony forever and evermore. He would be recycled into other objects such as an egg incubator, some strange device, or even something that would have the volition to move as the colony needed him. But there were some things that never changed. His memory and personality stayed the same, he was subservient to the masters of this place, and he would forever be overwhelmed by the feelings of the black latex that made up this grotesque place. The end\n\n-----\n\nBefore you ask, yes that is the Myst intro in the falling sequence. I hope you all enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I wanted it to be intense as possible, but I also wanted to drive home how lucid and vivid the experience is. I felt that it would be so much hotter if Sallet remembered who he was so the place continued to feel like a waking nightmare rather than a regular experience.\n\n[url=http://www.postybirb.com]Posted using PostyBirb[/url]",
"description_bbcode_parsed": "By odiousbird. Conceptualization: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/41216590/
Characters: (left to right) deltad Dev.0 TwistedSnakes StarFoth Karava
-----
Sallet, seeking to create content for his channel, travelled offworld to a far, far away plane oceanic plane. The world was tropical and would surely have made for an interesting exploration experience. The lush expanses of ocean and islands were beautiful here. The ocean foam gleamed off the surface, the clouds reflected pristinely off the surfaces of the lush waters. It was almost paradise. Seeking adventure, he boarded a tour boat headed for a circular island with a whirlpool known as "the tomb". But things went awry when an unexpected anomalous storm began to surge in and blew the boat off course. The navigator failed to beach the ship and it fell down into the whirlpool. Tens of Thousands on his stream watched as he plummeted to the depths with everyone else on board before the screen cut off.
Sallet realized the moment he fell into the fissure, that the Stream would not go well as he has planned. He continued falling into that starry expanse of which he had only a fleeting glimpse. He tried to speculate where he might have landed, but I must admit, such conjecture is futile. Still, the question of whose hands might someday hold Sallet's fate are unsettling to him. He knows that his apprehensions might never be allayed, and so he closes, realizing that perhaps, the ending has not yet been written.
As he fell he saw the ruins of countless other ships that had been dragged into the abyss on either side of him. He and the others were gravitating to the center as the ship was cast aside by an unseen force. And as they fell they began to lose consciousness. Slowly they faded from the waking world and drifted to sleep. Sallet awoke hours later with serious injuries and a dislocated arm in the midst of a jungle. He could hardly move, the pain was debilitating, and his head was hazy. He stumbled to his feet only to fall back down as pain shot through his legs.
"He-hello?!" He cried out, stumbling over his words and barely able to muster the strength to yell. There was no response. He gathered his strength and tried to move onwards, knowing full well that rescue might not be possible unless he found some of the others. The island itself was mountainous with numerous strange rock formations. The landscape was impossible to have been formed naturally with the sculpted fjords and expanses laid before him. Even the plant life seemed strange, unlike anything he had seen before. He wandered for half an hour seeking signs of life before coming across a bizarre-looking red flower with a huge bulb protruding from its center. He approached it, which would be the last mistake he would ever be able to make. At lightning speed it split open to reveal a set of soft jaws that snatched him up with incredible force. Sallet could barely struggle and cry out. The bulb bulged and wiggled with his struggling form as it swallowed him.
The force of the bulb swallowing him dislocated his other arm with a resounding POP as he was dropped into a pit filled with tar in the belly of the plant. He tried to kick and struggle in a pathetic display of resistance. His weak arms couldn't even support himself or have the strength to move of their own volition in the thick tar and his legs were too weak to make much of a difference, either. He could feel the tar invading his body and rending his flesh but in the process replacing it with a digested latex form. The plant was consuming his body for its organic nutrients and irreversibly changing him into a rubber-like creature made from its latex biowaste. The process was only painful at the start but as it replaced more and more of his body the feeling dissipated. In fact, the pain of his injuries went away completely but with a cost. His dislocated arms were healed in incorrectly, making them rigid rubber ebonite fixtures that could barely move and his legs, although just as beefy as before, were weak.
After days had passed he was passed through a dropplet from the root of the plant where he plummeted into the rubber pits below. A miserable writhing mass of latex and chaos filled with the digested bodies of others, all writhing, all trying to crawl and call out, and all very much alive. Everyone in here was trapped inside this purgatory, crawling over each-other in a grotesque orgy of goo. The purgatory was fairly lit from anomalous sources of lighting that seemed to dance in place above the pits. Strange aetheric essences that illuminated the writhing pits of misery and highlighted every shiny, sleek detail of those trapped in here. From the distance, Sallet could witness what seemed to be a mound of bodies climbing over each-other, all reaching up toward the sky. In the far distance he could see a small pillar of light, a pinsize hole up above and every being in the pile was alive and tried to climb over one-another to the hole that was dozens of miles above them.
Sallet tried to stand up but as he did so, his feet sunk into the goop below and he found himself flopping over. His arms, now loosened, flopped around uselessly as he tried to use them. He resorted to crawling forward. The air hung with the overwhelming scent of tires that was enough to drive him mad. The slippery latex gliding across his body, caressing it and violating his senses in every way as he went forward. His mouth, forced agape by the ebonite structure that replaced his jaw, was inadvertently forcefed the latex as he slid forward. The goop tasted like condoms and felt heavy as it pushed its way through his simplified system and gushed out his urethra and anus. The endless cacophonous squeaking pounded in his head as he slid forward. Every one of his senses was being violated by the latex and the overwhelming feelings of dread were driving him insane. At several periods on his pointless journey to the mound, he was overwrought and stopped for a moment having an emotional breakdown. There was nothing else he could feel, there was nothing else he could sense, and there was virtually nothing he could do. What was this chaotic, eldritch place?
When Sallet reached the mound after a week of travel, he struggled to rise up the incline and at multiple points was stepped on or forced down into the goop by others trying to climb up. His frustration welled as he was constantly forced below and his debilitations made it impossible for him to compete with anyone else. At long last he gave up trying to climb up, letting him be pushed under and trampled by the other latex denizens of this purgatory and sinking below the surface. In a fleeting moment he believed that he would be free from this nightmare and at least find solace in being submerged but he was wrong. The smell of tires was just as strong, the taste of the rubber being forced into his mouth as he sunk was just as powerful. The squeaking of his own body against the flow was just as wrenching. He could witness the horrible writhing forms and masses of the other suffering victims of the pit as he passed open pockets. And all the while, the rubber crushed his body and flowed forcefully through his system through his mouth and out of his sensitive dick and gaping rear.
His sanity depleted as the weeks went by as he slowly sunk below. Every visceral experience further traumatized him, shaped him, and made him submissive. By the time he reached the bottom of the pits he was a shadow of who he was. He retained his personality, albeit changed from the experience. He remembered his past life. He remembered who he was. But all of it felt like a dream. He felt like this was an inescapable, macabre living nightmare that he would be unable to free himself from. He couldn't even so much as close his eyes or drift to sleep any more by the time he reached the pods. The drip welled with his weight and plopped from the ceiling. But as he plummeted, he was forced to bear witness to a sight more unbelievable than anything else he has witnessed this far in the pits. A vast city made of latex. Everything. Tremendous pods and colonies dotted the world below with its brilliant latex shine illuminated by the aether. As his droplet fell, it was pulled by an unseen force toward a pseudopod was reaching out to grab him from one of the colonies. It was a terrifying sight, but one that didn't phase Sallet after every horror he had witnessed and experienced this far.
Little did he know that his rubbery nightmare was only beginning. He was pulled into one of the colonies where large a draconic humanoid awaited him. Without even enough time to moan or cry, one of them grabbed him by the dick with its clawed hands and carried him off. Latex squished from his cock as its tight grip got a hold of him. Rubbery goop from the pits gurgled out of his oral hole as he cried out. He was brought to a workshop illuminated in the same black that this whole world was made of and strapped down to an ebonite table. After a few minutes of weak flailing and crying, weakingly pushing against the single restraint that cinched around his chest, another dragonlike humanoid came up before him. Within' a moment it grabbed his rubber penis and pushed it painlessly and hard into his body. It melded perfectly inside him and he could still feel its pent up, throbbing desperation inside of his crotch.
It was then that the real work began. The craftsman used his claws to remove Sallet's arms and legs and moulded them into putty. They then proceeded to reach inside of his anus and hollowed him out, taking chunks of rubber from him as he writhed in place against the strap and set them aside. Sallet was now a hollowed out shell of his former self, with only a shadow of his form being intentionally maintained. His face was still recognizable, albeit smooth, rubbery, and with his mouth permanently agape. His spare mass was placed into a small oven where it would begin to melt and harden into a mould to form a plate before his very eyes. Sallet was then placed onto a potters' wheel adjacent to the workbench with a large spoke in the center to keep him upright. He could feel his cock, now on his inside and formless sliding against it as he went down. The craftsman began to spin him around, forming his body into a large living bottle. The creature smacked him, moulded him, removed and added parts to his body, and continued to make him into a shapely container. The force of being spun around on the spoke was enough to cause him to orgasm from his formless genitals now at the base of his body. After he was done on the wheel the craftsman bolted the plate made from his inside and limbs to his bottom.
His body was much harder to flex and move now. Everything was much more rigid and just as sensitive as before. He couldn't believe what he was feeling and could no longer resist. He kept his identifying features and knew perfectly well who he was, but all of that was irrelevant. He had been made into a liquid container now and dreaded what the purpose of all this was. But the biggest source of dread of all was the fact that deep down, he knew he would be immortalized here. He would live here for an indefinite amount of time, perhaps forever bound to this place. Perhaps he would be recycled into a different object someday, but no matter what there was no escaping this nightmare.
Years went by with Sallet being frequently used to hold fluids ejaculated from the genitals of the denizens of this. He couldn't tell if it was urine or ejaculate that came from their penises. What he did know is that he was set out with other living bottles in various rooms around the colony. He and several other familiar faces would be placed inside this room, which he assumed was a lavatory of some sort, filled up with ejaculate, and then emptied out twice per day into a trough. He never understood the purpose of any of this and it wasn't his place to. He just had to guzzle the ejaculate from the penises of these monsters in this chaotic realm and orgasm as he was emptied. There were a few rooms serviced by same trough within' the community. And he recognized the other bottles and denizens with time, being able to tell them apart. His bizarre life became routine as he gulped gallons of ejaculate from his masters' penises every day. In time he began to think of the other bottles as his friends, and they seemed to feel the same way with him. They couldn't communicate, only being able to moan or cry to make noise.
And as such, this is what became of his life. He and the other bottles would live in that colony forever and evermore. He would be recycled into other objects such as an egg incubator, some strange device, or even something that would have the volition to move as the colony needed him. But there were some things that never changed. His memory and personality stayed the same, he was subservient to the masters of this place, and he would forever be overwhelmed by the feelings of the black latex that made up this grotesque place. The end
-----
Before you ask, yes that is the Myst intro in the falling sequence. I hope you all enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I wanted it to be intense as possible, but I also wanted to drive home how lucid and vivid the experience is. I felt that it would be so much hotter if Sallet remembered who he was so the place continued to feel like a waking nightmare rather than a regular experience.
Posted using PostyBirb",
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"title": "[WARNING: DARK] [By OdiousBird] The Bottles of Levi City",
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