Chapter 2

by Pirouette

Tags: #cw:gore #cw:noncon #D/s #dom:plant #Human_Domestication_Guide #hurt/comfort #monster_fucking #sadomasochism #microfiction #pov:bottom #primal_play #scifi #sub:nb

This story started as a one-off. Because I was thinking about how affini in their primal state must be pretty hot. Then people started subscribing to it. So this one is to you, dear readers.

The first thing they noticed was being held. They didn't really have a concept of identity at that moment. Just a sophont... or, maybe, part of one. A little two-dimensional weave tied into a vast, complex expanse of weaves and nodes. They felt tiny, but very important. Held, adored and valued so, so much. And there was so much information! Much of it unintelligible, but some.. some crystallized into concepts.

A memory surfaced, of trees in the garden of their grandfather, back on Terra... of the grafted branches, each bearing a different, precious flavor of apple. They walked up to one... 'I'm such a beautiful branch,' they thought, looking at the golden, sparkling apples and the adorable little leaves... and beyond the grafting point, a magnificent tree. Wait... this wasn't how the memory went... but right here, in this moment, the tree was reaching up into the stars. Immeasurable and regal, with a bark patterned with infinite complexity and beauty, with millions of tiny flowers in indescribable colors, and branches in arrangements that hinted at the secrets of the universe itself. It was beyond beautiful. It was awe itself.

There was an entire forest of them! There were vines stretching between them like telegraph cables, and looking down, through the translucent, watery ground, they saw an endless, pulsing network of glowing mycelia connecting immense root systems. They cried, leaning into the tree, and then.. they really were the branch. Their tears and sobs becoming the cracking of tiny buds, and the opening of petals beautiful beyond description. And they understood at that moment, the tree was crying with them. Not with sorrow, but with wonder and exaltation, marveling at the forest it was part of, and at the pure, untainted awe of a sophont who was seeing it for the first time.

Caught in wonder, at first they didn't notice the light. The white-hot, dripping, honeyed light flowing into them. The tree feeding its little, precious graft with a sap too potent, too sweet, too hot... It forced itself down their fibers. In that other sense, the two-dimensional lattice they were dripping with liquid flame. Heavy, slow, deliberate, and white hot. Heating itself as it melts, like nuclear fuel melting down. Only ever heating, with no hope of relief. The branch felt itself strain with impossible pressures, as if all the heat and light of the sun was forced inside. Tiny buds grew that it had known nothing about, forcing themselves through the velvety bark, and swelling with inevitability...

It was too much, and their mind withdrew like a flower closing its petals for the night. Another interpretation came online, a tiny knot of sensory input... Tiny, but burning and dripping with aches and pleasures immeasurable. Of visual data... Unfamiliar and unintelligible at first, but there was a gentle vine, guiding them as they attempted to interpret it. Finally, as an image coalesced in their consciousness, they felt everything around them fill with an overwhelming warmth and pride. They saw... themselves. Their body, that of Crystal Repens, First Floret. From many, many angles, slowly assembled into a visceral sense of three dimensional space. Not a projection. A true representation, of distances, curvatures, of volume... And there they were, their body held by a lattice of roots and vines, the slowly dripping blood caught by large colorful leaves... Wait, blood?

Their body was pierced in so many places... Writhing and shaking. It looked like prey, being consumed alive by a predatory plant, straight out of some old Terran horror movie... but there was no pain, only thick, honeyed, dripping, white hot aches... except in the back of their neck. That hurt. It hurt so, so much. Such a thick, strong weave of roots... The guiding presence gently redirected their attention away from it, and back to the aches. At first they felt relief, but soon lost their conviction that those were, in fact, better. They were too much. Too intense.

Crystal, the grafted branch strained with the pressure and heat. Their growing buds, covering every square inch of their surface, broke one by one, revealing impossible, fractal petals beneath, in colors indescribable in terms Crystal the human was familiar with. They opened.. and opened... and opened... and opened... Such beautiful flowers!

'I guided you, little graft.. but this isn't me. This is you.'

Crystal the writhing body tensed and shook. So, so much. They finally screamed.

And screamed.

And passed out.

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