You're snuggled up on the sofa in a little nest of your Mistress's vines. You sit between her soft, plant thighs, and her arms have partly unravelled like the proverbial sleave of care, petting gently all down your back and through your hair. The pattern of her petting is not distracting, but rather blends with the gentle thrum of her biorhythm to soothe your thoughts into a gentle, lazy drift.

"Mistress, could we, like, watch a bit of TV?" you ask, twirling a lock of hair in your fingers. It had been a tiring afternoon of playing with some friends at the park, and you feel a tepid hankering for the simple Terran entertainment of passively consuming video narratives.

Your Mistress hums thoughtfully. "I wouldn't mind that one bit, precious one. Would you mind if we watched a cooking programme? I have been feeling stuck in a rut with that lately."

Confusion rises from the soft contours of your mind. "But Mistress! Your cooking is the best!"

Your Mistress laughs and dismisses your confusion with a firm headpat. "Even the best can learn something new, little one. Let's see what Fennel's up to."

She switches the TV on with a voice command in melodious Affini.

 

***

 

An Affini and a Terran come on screen as some music best described as 'sparkly' plays in the background. The Affini is tall and thin, her white legs fading to a dark green around her tidy midriff, while her face is angular and cunning. A mop of untidy fronds frames it and tumbles down to her mid-back. The Terran, meanwhile, is short and plush, rather chubby in fact, dressed in a classic bunny girl leotard, green to match her Mistress. Blonde rabbit ears that match her hair twitch with every slight sound and motion, giving her a slightly nervous, excitable appearance.

 

"Welcome to Fennel's Floret Feasts, the best place to find out about food your floret will love!" the two declaim in a precise, flowing unison.

"I'm Arethusa Fennel, Third Bloom, and I am your cooking expert!" the Affini said chirpily.

"I - I'm Valentina Fennel, First Floret, and I'm your eating expert!" said the blushing Terran, admirably cogent through her fluster.

"Oh really?" Arethusa asked, in the tone of scripted banter. "Can you tell us some of your favourite things to eat?"

Valentina nodded. "Yes, I -"

Snap. One of the Affini's vines had made a whipcrack sound, and Valentina flinched.

"I …" she continued, a little hesitantly, "I dunno … maybe, like … what you cook for me Mistress?" She giggled vacuously.

Arethusa grinned knowingly at the camera. "Oh dear, it seems like poor little Valley is quite forgetful! Unfortunately many of our darling florets aren't very good at telling us what foods they enjoy, for one reason or another."

 

She unravelled the thick stalks of her midsection to reveal a datapad. "That's why the Affini chef's first tool is research and observation." She taps at it purposefully, while Valley stares up at her in slack-jawed adoration, lost in her Mistress's hypnotic eyes.

 

You giggle, thinking about all the times that has happened to you recently.

 

"So," Arethusa continues, "I have detected my Valley's cute little noises of enjoyment, all the 'mmms' and 'ahhhs' and 'yums', are 37% more frequent with fish dishes than meat or vegetable ones! Fish is important in your floret's diet, containing several essential fats and proteins found nowhere else. Just be careful - fish is also a common food aversion among florets." She turns to Valley, waking her from her fugue with a gentle stroke down the cheek. "Do you remember what happened with Gary, little one?"

Valley giggled. "Yes I do Mistress! He -"

Snap.

"He?" Arethusa prompted.

Valley hesitated even longer this time. "Ummmmmmmm … I forgot what I was going to say, Mistress!"

"That's quite all right, little one," smirked Arethusa, petting her between the ears.

 

"This episode we have a wonderful simple fish dish for you!" Arethusa grinned, and Valley turned to the camera, jumping up and down with joy.

"Oh yay! Fish! I love fish!" she giggles.

"This will be a simple pasta dish with the flavours of smoked salmon, dill and white wine. Let's start with a soffrito," Arethusa says. She unfurls her vines, holding up two onions, a small carrot and two sticks of celery simultaneously, while also lifting Valley and depositing her in a comfortable beanbag on a little platform. The camera zooms out and reveals a kitchen counter in front of Arethusa, with equipment lined up on it.

 

"First let's prepare the onions," says Arethusa, picking up an enormous chef's knife the length of a Terran katana. "We chop off the root end and the tip, here. Some florets are sensitive to the sulphites from chopping onions, so if you're cooking with them, make sure to slightly heat your onions in the microwave to stop those tearful eyes!"

She performs the surgery described on the two onions, before chopping them in half. "Then you chop the onions in half along the axis from root to tip, so that you can easily peel off the outermost brown layers. To make special care that all the onion is nice and fresh for your floret, peel off the outermost fleshy layer as well." After she has done this, she turns the truncated hemispheres of onion so that their rounded side is facing upwards. "In some recipes, this is where we'd cut the onion into precise strips or a fine dice. But to save time in this recipe, we're going to use a food processor, so let's just cut each of these halves into 4 pieces each." She does so, throwing the onion pieces into the basket of a plant-tech food processor similar to a Terran model. "Labour-saving devices like these, in Terran history, apparently helped liberate women from the drudgery of housework. In particular, the grinding of flour for tortillas used to take women several hours a day before the introduction of machines to grind it mechanically! Astonishing that Terra's patriarchal society could create such a thing."

Valley looked confused. "Mistress, I didn't understand that!" she cried from her little platform.

"Don't worry about it, sweetie," Arethusa said with a grin, "just talking about how bad things used to be before we came and helped you!"

Valley nodded so hard it looked like her ears might fall off. "Yes indeed Mistress! You have made everything sooooo much better!"

"Anyway," Arethusa said, holding up the celery, "next is this cute green plant. Your floret might hate this vegetable in a salad, raw, since it's a little bitter. But when sauteed in oil gently it gives the most delicious savoury note every Terran will be clamouring for."

She rinsed it under the tap, gently scraping away any specks of dirt. "Celery can trap dirt between its stems, so be careful to wash it off. It won't be dangerous in a cooked dish, but the gritty texture of soil is unpleasant to their palates."

Shaking it off, she puts it flat on the chopping board. "Chop off the very ends, since they will oxidise and become chewy and unpleasant." She cuts off around a centimetre on each end of each stick. "Next chop it into short lengths so little processor-kun can handle it!" She giggles lightly as she chops the celery into inch-long sections and adds them to the basket.

"Finally the carrot. Peel this either with a knife or a peeler - you want to make sure none of the dark root hubs are visible. Again, they aren't dangerous, but their texture and taste isn't great. And Valley, do you remember what our motto is here at Triple F?"

Valley looked confused, a little drool leaving her open mouth. "Ummmmmmm … I dunno Boss. Mistress Boss. Uhhhh." She chuckles.

Arethusa looks back to the camera and raises an eyebrow, leaving a pointed silence. "Well, if your floret remembered it, make sure to give them a treat! Our motto is, of course, only the best for our flourishing florets' feasts!"

She focuses back on the carrot. "Cut this along its length into four quarters, and then coarsely dice it, and add it to the processor."

She does so, the little pieces of hard carrot making a pleasant plunk against the sides of the basket. "Then it's time to put the lid on and give it a little chop!" She buzzes the processor for a moment, and then lifts out the basket to show the interior to the camera. Inside is a mix of the three vegetables, white, green and orange, diced very finely but still in distinct pieces. "Make sure not to liquidise it!" she chides, wagging a viney finger. "Best it's too coarse than too fine for this dish. Now that's all the preparation done! I told you this was an easy dish, didn't I, cuties?"

Valley jumps up and down on her little platform. "Does that mean it's break time, Mistress?"

Fennel beams happily. "Yes it is, my darling floret. Everyone at home, please cuddle your florets, and make sure they get some water, and some snacks if the food is making them hungry!"

 

***

 

Your Mistress takes the advice to heart, holding you close against her thrumming core. You feel its gentle warmth against your back, an undercurrent to the waves of protective love and care resonating against your soul. She wordlessly takes out your sippy water bottle out from within herself - you were always envious of how Affini managed to take 'having pockets' to the next level - and places it in your hands.

 

Soft music plays and the screen, which had simply displayed a caption reading "break time~" in English, Spanish and Affini, slowly resolves into an image. A tall black and purple Affini is cuddling a sleepy beeple who was clutching a plush Terran. "Sorry to interrupt your programming," xe says, xir voice soft and soothing. "I am Larch Crennulo, Twenty-fifth Bloom, xe/xym/xir, and I have the good fortune to be your captain here on the Sunshine. I wanted to clear up some little misconceptions some of our dear residents, big and small -" here xe pauses to gaze lovingly down at xir lap floret - "might have about carnivorous Affini."

 

Larch's permanent smile becomes a little more wooden as xe considers the weighty topic. "I understand that it can be unsettling to think about Affini consuming flesh. I am afraid to say that some of my dear colleagues, in the past, were rather circumspect and uncomfortable around the whole topic, but we must not let that develop into stigma. Being carnivorous does not mean you are predatory or a danger to florets."

Xe winks at the camera, holding up the little beeple and giving them a scratch behind the antenna. "This little one would know. I myself am a meat-eating plant."

The beeple rolls over adorably with a little sleepy buzz, and the voices of the crew all going "awwwww!" simultaneously could be heard. The Affini didn't do well at television professionalism.

 

Larch beckons the camera to zoom in on xir face, until xir eyes half fill the screen. They glitter in fractal patterns of purple and gold, seeming to swirl and dance. An infectious biorhythm can be heard under the soft music. "And as for those little ones who used to believe Affini eat people, I need you to pay close attention." The last three words are spoken with a deep resonance, symbiotic with the rhythms assaulting your mind. 

You find your focus drawn in, shifting forward in your Mistress's vines to better look at the screen.

"No Affini would ever willingly harm a sophont," explains Larch, the hypnotism of xir eyes giving xym ultimate authority for the words to sink into your very soul. "You can trust us with every part of your life. Whether an Affini is carnivorous or not, foolish or wise - they will never seek to hurt or harm you. In fact, it's a simple fact of our cultural and biological conditioning that we will always help as much as we can. We love you so much, and we will protect you and make you happy. I hope that's clear, and if you want or need to learn more, visit a domestication centre today."

Some of the television crew applaud and the captain blinks in irritation, ending the soothing trance you had been enchained into. The camera zooms back out to show the full scene once again.

Captain Larch bundles xir floret into xirself, and stares imperiously at the camera. "That will be all. Thank you for being so cute." Your mistress pets your head and you purr a little without thinking. "You deserve all of the good things that the Compact is bringing you. Thank you for indulging me - let us now sing the anthem of the starship Sunshine!"

 

You gaze up at your Mistress in excitement and she returns the look with unironic enthusiasm. This song, the 'starship anthem', was one of the reasons the captain had been elected in the first place.

A hidden band of unknown, inhuman Affini core world instruments, tuned to the Western Art Music octave, starts to play in beautiful heterophony, a shared tune not preventing the individual players from adding their own little twiddles and ornaments. They are soon joined by a rhythm section that plays complex beats, phasing in and out of each other in an infinitely diverse tapestry of small, instantly memorable rhythmic patterns. You can pick out a Rinan harp and a Terran bass guitar among the melange.

Finally, the singing begins, mixed Affini and sophont voices, with sign language and spectrum jelly interpreters on the screen. You, however, are too busy staring lovingly at your Mistress and singing along to really listen to them.

 

Here on the starship Sunshine,

 

Here on the starship Sunshine,

 

Here on the starship Sunshine,

 

The instruments swap their textures dramatically as a new melody sounds, everyone's favourite part of the piece:

 

 

This little chorus repeats, and on the second repetition, you surprise your Mistress with a little improvised descant. The words are a bit naff, but there's something about the music which lifts your spirits every time. 

She tousles your hair as the screen fades. "Inspired?" she asks, amused.

"I'm happy stimming inside," you admit.

 

***

 

Arethusa Fennel was back on screen, picking up Valley and depositing her back on her little platform, with its excellent view of the show kitchen.

"Welcome back, fellow Sunshiners! I hope you found that invigorating - I know I did."

Valley looked dazed and flushed, as though some untelevisable incidents had occurred during the break. She smoothed her leotard down. "Um … like … what Mistress said …" she mumbled, gazing back at her owner with delight.

Arethusa had got two saucepans from the cupboard. One was a non-stick pan and the other was stainless steel - or so they might appear to primitive Terran eyes. "These metallic pans are the best for boiling water in - ideal for pasta, potatoes, and such. They work well for deep frying too. These non-stick Petallic pans, available from your compiler's catalogue, are great for sautéeing, frying and such."

She puts the non-stick pan down on the hob and turns on the heat with a flourish. "Keep the heat nice and moderate. The longer you can sweat down the vegetables without burning them, the richer the natural savoury flavour that our little ones love."

 

After a moment to let the pan heat, she drizzles some olive oil into it. The viscosity of the oil changes as it heats, turning from bright beads into a liquid slick, which Arethusa swirls around the pan to form an even layer over the bottom.

Next the vegetables are added, along with a pinch of crystalline sea salt. "Harvested sustainably from the salt flats of Eris Minor," she explains to the camera with a little smile. "Salt alters the boiling point of water, and therefore aids in the 'sweating down' process. It really helps the flavours come together. Now at this point you should hear something between a hiss and a sizzle coming from the vegetables." She brings the pan up to the camera and demonstrates the sound for the audience. "That's a good sound - if it's absent the pan's not hot enough, and if it's too insistent, too much of a sizzle rather than a hiss, it's too hot and might burn. Keep stirring occasionally, and give your floret some attention since this part of the process can take a while."

The camera stays positioned above the pot, so you could see Arethusa stirring it round.

 

A title card flashes, reading: "Fifteen minutes later ~"

Valley can now be seen, flushed and panting, zipping up her leotard, her tights shredded, while Arethusa remains collected as ever. "Now all this gentle heat and the tasty oil has made the vegetables softer, sweeter, and take on a golden glow. Just like applying affection to cute little Terrans and watching them melt …" she ponders.

"Now it's at this point we should have some water boiling ready to go for the pasta," she says, pouring some boiling water from the compiler into the stainless steel pan and turning the heat on under it, putting a lid on the top for efficiency. "It needs to be properly boiling for pasta, or it won't have the right texture at the end."

Then she pulls a bottle of white wine out of the stasis chamber. "If your floret can't have alcohol for any reason, you can substitute this for a blend of water and lemon juice, and it'll be very tasty! But this is a classic pairing with smoked salmon for a reason."

She also removes two little spice jars. "It's time for my secret seasoning! Adding your own twist to a recipe is a great way to make sure anyone else's food just won't taste like home like yours does." Her right eye is briefly engulfed in plant flesh and revealed again - the closest thing to a wink she could manage.

"I like to add a good pinch of dried garlic granules, and also this! Valley, you love this flavour. Come down and tell the viewers what this is."

Valley is lifted over on prehensile vines to sit on Arethusa's shoulder, giggling happily all the while. She takes a look at the container. "Oh, it's asafoetida!"

"Couldn't quite hear that, cutie," Arethusa teases. "Again?"

Valley furrows her brow, trying to read the container. "Aaa … Saaaa … Ummmm …"

"Well done for trying," Arethusa reassures her, giving her a headpat, lifting her back to her seat and trailing a vine lovingly down her cheek. "Who'd have thought that this silly little floret once got two Nobel Prizes for literature?"

 

***

 

As Arethusa adds the wine, garlic and asafoetida to the vegetables, talking about letting the wine boil down for five to ten minutes, you turn to your Mistress. You have some strange rumbles in the back of your mind, and you're forbidden to hide such things from Her.

"Mistress, it feels a bit, like, weird and icky that someone so talented is treated like they're useless and stuff, like, isn't it a waste?" you ask, pulling on a vine lightly to get her attention.

She kisses you on the top of your cute little head, her lips warm and thrumming against your scalp. "I understand, poppet, but you see, Arethusa is a friend of a friend, and I have heard through her that this is a real kink of Valentina's. She gets through six pairs of panties per episode. Whether it's the public humiliation or the hypnotic removal of her so-called 'intelligence', it really, really pleases her."

You nod, feeling a bit confused but a lot better. Mistress often did things for you which would have been embarrassing to anyone else. Best not elaborate on that for now, you think, cheeks flushing. "As long as she enjoys it, I guess I can laugh along!"

 

***

 

"Now while the wine is reducing down," Arethusa explains, "it's time to add your pasta. Terrans are so creative that they created a huge variety of shapes from the same starch! Not just simple noodles or dumplings, but little bows, shells, tubes, all sorts! Today I am going with fusilli, these adorable little screws." She giggles to herself as she holds up the container full of dried pasta to the camera, as though there were something inherently amusing about it. "Dried pasta like this swells as it cooks, so best to use the scale for portioning. I tend to use 70-100g of dried pasta per pet, depending on how hungry the little dears are! This is going to be two portions, so let's say 180g today."

Having weighed it on a little anachronistic mechanical scale, she puts a moderate serving of pasta into the pan of boiling water. Valley squeaks in surprise as the water bubbles ferociously.

"Make sure your florets aren't close to the boiling water," Arethusa chides kindly, "especially if they're of a nervous or accident-prone disposition." She gives Valley a vine to stim with, and she does so, anxiety soon fading from her eyes.

 

Arethusa turns her attention back to the camera. "Next we prepare our last-minute additions. Some foods lose flavour as they cook - especially herbs, citrus, and fermented foods. If you're using lemon juice instead of white wine, be careful not to add it too early! We'll be adding dill and smoked salmon in late, too. Overcooking it would turn the salmon from a delicious treat into something salty and chewy, and the dill would never be heard from again, like a feralist's sense of independence." A few chuckles could be heard from the crew.

 

***

 

You giggle too. You think about how, out of all the florets in your friend groups, it's the forcibly domesticated former rebels who are the most submissive little pets. Almost as though being traumatised in a rigidly hierarchical environment had snuffed out any real independent thought in them, ready for the Affini to sweep in and remove the remaining empty bluster and self-deception.

 

***

 

With the pasta halfway cooked, Arethusa turns off the heat under the non-stick saucepan, shredding in about 100g of smoked salmon and adding a tablespoon and a half of dried dill. "Stir it round, and let the residual heat cook the salmon and dill - trust me, it will be enough, especially once the pasta is added."

 

She waits a few minutes for the pasta to cook, humming tunelessly to herself and teasing Valley with light brushes from the feathery tips of her vines up the helpless Terran girl's inner thighs.

 

She uses a fork to fish out a piece of pasta and rolls it between her vines. "Pasta should not be completely soft," she explains, "but rather, firm and slightly chewy, but never rubbery or crunchy. Ask your floret to taste if they're available. They might have their own preferences, of course, but a little hypnotism should correct that. See my 'Correct Italian Food Understanding' headset instruction pack if your floret needs it."

She lifts the spiral of fusilli up to Valley, blowing on it to cool it down. Valley eats it, gives a thumbs-up, and Arethusa goes ahead and drains the pasta in a huge colander.

"One important aspect of pasta is the starchy water it has boiled in. In small quantities, it really helps bring sauces together and stick to the pasta. So ensure you don't drain the pasta too well."

Next she adds the pasta into the pan full of sauce, and mixes it well, with typical Affini dexterity, until the pasta is coated in a shiny layer of dark green herbs, small pieces of vegetable and salmon, and the mixture of olive oil and white wine.

"Serve with toasted breadcrumbs, immediately," she says, simply compiling a cup full of these. She plates up a heaping helping of the steaming pasta, sprinkling the breadcrumbs atop.

 

Valley starts to drool a little, looking at the plate.

 "This little one has waited long enough for her lunch," chuckles Arethusa, "but we're going to put in a little break here for you to cuddle up with your loved ones and get a nice snack. Then we'll be back with one of our favourite segments, Valley's Variety Visits!"

 

***

 

Arethusa Fennel's lovely face fades from the screen, replaced by a Terran with an asymmetrical bob cut, wearing a jet-black floret collar and a three-piece suit. "Hello, my name is Raul Hyperborea, Third Floret, they/it, and I crave the attention of any of you out there who might be curious about domestication." They look at the camera with earnest gravity.

"Domestication isn't just about getting high, kinky sex and lazing around. For me, it meant getting a degree in anthropology and travelling around the galaxy."

A sweet, melodious voice floats in from off screen. "And quite a lot of kinky sex, dear …"

It blushes and clears its throat. "Yes Mistress, I can't deny there are more … worldly pleasures which domestication brings. All the same," they stare at the camera with clear-eyed intensity, "I am not what you might think of when you think 'floret' - but like all florets, I am the best 'me' I can be. Visit a domestication centre to discuss your options, if you wish."

Some captions are imposed on the screen:

"Search Today for #BeTheBestMeICanBe, visit your local domestication centre, or simply call out 'I Want To Be A Pet' to have an Affini guide you."

 

***

 

Your Mistress gains a curious questioning overtone to her comfortable relaxing biorhythm. "I wonder … Hab, what would happen if a sophont said that phrase?"

"Well Miss," says the habitat unit's AI in an enthusiastic, chipper tone, "a wellness check from an Affini would be scheduled, or if there are already Affini who have registered interest in that sophont as a floret, they would be alerted and given a location."

"That's so cute!" you exclaim, surprising your Mistress a little. "So romantic. Imagine if, like, you were nervous and needed some space from an Affini you loved. Then the Affini got that little alert and rushed across the whole ship to find their floret-to-be who'd finally cracked! Doesn't that sound like a cute little story, Mistress?"

Your Mistress thrums with joy. "Reminds me a little of how we met, but of course it wasn't quite like that."

"I love you Mistress," you proclaim, as you often do, turning around and throwing your frail Terran arms around her. "Shall we switch off the television for now? I, like, really want some quiet time with you."

Mistress agrees with a silent nod, turning off the screen by voice command and carrying you like a princess through to the bedroom.

 

***