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Read the Fine Print (NeedleTeeth & BlueAmbient)

NeedleTeeth

NeedleTeeth

Certified Trash Mammal
Joined
May 3, 2021
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Mitch had read the address a few times over now, sitting in his car and looking through his phone. This was the right place, but he couldn't help but feel a bit of imposter syndrome sitting in the dirt driveway, working up the courage to actually enter. He had worked a few months at a pet store before, but this job seemed a bit more intensive than refilling the hampster food every day. From the short interview they had online, this facility had large enclosures for the creatures in their care. Mitch was entering this job basically blind, as nowhere did it state what animals he would be taking care of, but he assumed it to be like a large dog pound or perhaps a private zoo.

Regardless, he lacked the disposable income to be able to say no. He was struggling to work up enough cash to pay rent each month, usually having to beg some of his friends to make up the difference. He had to take any job willing to take him in, and at least this one seemed to pay well. If he was in over his head, he could learn. How hard could it be to feed and clean up after some critters?

The short male got out of his car, running a hand through his fluffy brown locks and fixing his coat and he approached the front door to the facility. Mitch straightened his back, trying his best to look presentable and confident before entering the large building, bright green eyes searching for anyone inside.
 
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Emery Masters has always been fascinated by the world of the supernatural, by monsters and inhuman creatures. Raised in Europe by monster hunters, Emery cut ties with them at twenty five and moved across the world to study monsters instead. Before long, he learned hunters weren't the only thing decreasing the population of many species.

A mutated hereditary gene had caused a disease amidst the supernatural world, resulting in infertility. If a mated pair only had one recessive carrier of the gene, they could bear offspring that could reproduce. However, if one was a dominant carrier, or both were recessive carriers, their offspring would be infertile.

Thus, Emery took it upon himself to capture creatures alive, test them for the gene, and then breed them. He hopes to completely breed out the mutated gene. However, finding a pair to mate is not an easy task. What is easy, is getting males of the species to breed. So the best solution was to find willing subjects to collect the sperm. Emery found relative willingness among humans.

So, Emery put out an ad for 'creature caretakers'. Made the ad sound too good to be true. Easy work, high pay. Of course, the details were kept vague in his introductions. Most of his 'employees' were, of course, tricked and/or blackmailed. A couple of people had escaped over the handful of years he's been running his facility. Of course, when they went to the authorities, they'd been missing for months, so everything they'd said was written off as delusions.

Today, Emery is welcoming a new employee. They'd been in contact over text for four days, and as usual, Emery had kept the details vague. The facility is on 100 acres of private land, nearly 2 hours drive from the nearest city. Wealth came in handy for making bulk orders of supplies. Viewed from the outside, it appears to be a large white, blocky building, though not as large as one would expect, given the land. Inside the main lobby, nobody is around, but there's a couple of waiting chairs, and something of a reception desk. A text would come across Mitch's phone; 'I am running a bit late. Please wait for me in the lobby. -Emery'
 
Mitch huffed as he found no one, for a moment doubting himself again. The property was rather large, perhaps he was expected to meet somewhere else? That was until his phone buzzed in his pocket, the young man finding a message within it. "Oh, ok, cool..." He mumbled aloud, feeling a little anxiety quell. He normally wasn't this nervous, but he really needed to hold this job. It was the highest-paying one that would even give him an interview after he applied. He didn't want to risk losing it and being forced on the job hunt once again.

He flopped himself down on one of the comfier-looking waiting chairs, shooting Emery a small thumbs-up emoji to let him know he got his text. A part of him wanted to snoop around, but he forced himself to sit put. The lobby still gave him no indication of what he was looking after. No pictures or signs about the dogs someone could adopt, no pictures of exotic animals, nothing. With his phone still in hand, he gave one last skim through their text to see if he had missed any clues there, but again found nothing.

He pursed his lips, his brows furrowing a bit. That was kinda... sketchy. Yet, he still remained sat in his chair, not having much of a choice otherwise. Emery seemed like a nice enough guy through text, it was probably something that slipped his mind to mention. Or maybe he had some illegal exotic pets, something that would require him to be secretive... Anticipation and anxiety mixed together within his gut, wondering what he signed himself up for. It better not just be a bunch of hampsters, that would be anti-climatic.
 
At the opposite wall from the entry door is a hallway leading to the right, and across from that is what appears to be an elevator door protected by a number lock pinpad. After five minutes, there's a soft ding, and the elevator door slides open.

Emery is tall, 6'4, and dressed nicely enough in black jeans and a black button-down, tucking into his waistband. The sleeves are rolled to his elbows. His left hand grips a clipboard, pressed to his hip face up as though he had just been writing on it, and his right hand pushes black hair away from stormy grey eyes.

"Mr. Collins, thank you for waiting." Emery's voice is smooth and comforting, but emotionless and all business. He walks over to Mitch, long legs making him cross the floor in a handful of steps. "I trust you found the place easily enough? "
 
Mitch perked up at the sound of the elevator, glancing over to notice Emery's arrival. He quickly got to his feet, taking note of the man in front of him. Emery was nearly a full foot taller than Mitch's 5'5, making the smaller male appear underdressed in his more casual jeans and jacket. He wasn't told of any dress code before coming, so he was probably fine... probably.

The brown-haired lad was rather rehearsed in appearing confident, so his worries didn't show on his face unless one had a knack for telling emotions. "Yeah, it's no problem. This place is a bit out of the way, but I found it no problem." His voice was quite a bit more casual, lacking the formal cadence and tone the other man had. Mitch extended a hand, an invitation to shake. "Nice to meet you in person, Mr. Masters."
 
Emery offers a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He clasps Mitch's hand firmly, his own hand warm. "Please, call me Emery. No need for formalities." Emery is dismissing formal address, so the way he sounds formal is just his normal speech pattern. When he drops Mitch's hand, he turns toward the hallway. "Follow me to my office."

Emery leads the way down the hall, which branches to the left after eight feet. A glance down the second hall shows three doors. They pass a second such hall, then come to a halt outside a door on the right. A third hall turns left at the end of the main hall.

Emery opens the door, revealing what looks like more of an at-home study, than a business office. Shelves of books and journals line the right and back wall the left wall has a sofa pushed up against it. At the center is a large, L shaped mahogany desk with a phone and two computer screens. Various pages are strewn across its wide surface. There's also a wooden chair with a padded seat this side of the desk, and a black leather office chair behind the desk. Emery waits for Mitch to walk in, then closes the door and walks around the desk to sit in the leather chair. "Please, have a seat."
 
Mitch nodded, following obediently behind the other man down the halls and to the office. He tried to get a sense for the layout of the building as he walked, wanting to make sure he knew where things were.

He entered the office, the more at-home design oddly comforting. He took a seat where he was prompted to, sitting down on the soft padding on the wooden chair. He sat straight, seemingly trying to copy the more put-together mannerisms of the man on the other side of the desk. Emery didn't look to hold him to the same standards of formality, but Mitch tried to contain some anyway, only taking quick glances at the papers on the desk while trying to maintain his attention on the dark-haired man.
 
Emery watches Mitch with some degree of amusement. Clearly, the younger man is trying to impress him. But that's not necessary; Mitch already decided to take the job simply by coming here.

"You've already told me a bit about yourself. But I haven't told you much of what you'll be doing here." Emery pauses, mulling over just how much to reveal to Mitch right away. "I am a collector of.. exotic species, which are going extinct. My intention is to increase their populations. However, I can't do so alone. So, I've had to hire.. helpers, so to speak."

Emery pauses again, leaving space for Mitch to ask any questions. The papers strewn across the desk are mostly supply inventory lists. Some of them list what can only be described as lab supplies; blood tubes, needles, syringes, and the like.
 
Mitch nodded along, Emery's explanation of what he does satisfying his curiosities, though he didn't quite understand why he was being so careful with his wording. If the species was going extinct, being careful and selective with who you bring in made sense. Potchers could ruin his whole operation if he let in the wrong people or let slip what he was doing, but he hoped by now he would have shown himself to be earnest.

"That's pretty noble. I could see why you need help if you're running a whole breeding program. How many do you have? Are they dangerous at all?" Danger wasn't really an issue as long as Emery gave him a heads-up. He didn't mind having to avoid some angry teeth, he did so plenty when he worked with dogs.
 
Emery hums, smiling slightly. "Dangerous, yes. You could say that. I have roughly twenty species. There's this.. genetic disease causing infertility. I'm trying to breed it out. Thus, I need to test every specimen that comes in."

Emery stares at Mitch, his eyes traveling the young man's body. "Let me take you down to the enclosures." He stands, then walks to the door and waits for Mitch to follow him. Emery leads the way back to the lobby, and to the elevator. He uses his body to block Mitch's view of the pinpad, putting in his code.

"Everything is kept below ground. I use geothermal energy to heat the compound, to make it easier to regulate temperature for the various requirements of each species. My lab also resides underground." So does the quarters of each of his 'breeders', though he doesn't say as much yet. Emery steps into the elevator and presses the button for the second basement level; there's four altogether.
 
Mitch nodded, trying not to show his disappointment when he wasn't getting more information. How were they dangerous? Twenty species of what? He opened his mouth to ask a few more pointed questions, but was instead met with the invitation down to the enclosures before he could speak. "Alright..." He stood to follow. He assumed his questions would be answered by meeting the critters firsthand... Not his preferred way but he lacked the wiggle room to protest.

He trailed Emery into the elevator, unaware of the deliberate blocking of the code. He would probably be told it later, or maybe the older man didn't want him going down unattended, regardless he felt no need to peek.

"That's pretty elaborate, you must care a lot for these creatures." It was much easier and cheaper to build above ground, especially since he had enough land to build large enclosures for all of his species. Taking the time and money to build extensively underground was a lot more effort than Mitch expected just to ensure the correct environment.
 
"Safety, both for my creatures and for the public, is very important to me." The elevator dings, and Emery steps out into a rather long, white hallway. Glass windows look into varying enclosures; forest biomes, jungle biomes, every desert biomes. One looks like a lake, with a narrow shore. Each biome enclosure has a single door leading in, and each door is marked by a number and a rune.

"Have you ever worked with dangerous animals, Mr. Collins? Predators?" The question seems to come out of nowhere as they walk. Their progress is slow, allowing Mitch time to peer into the enclosures. Though, they don't appear to be occupied. Or at least, the occupants are hiding.
 
Mitch couldn't take his eyes off the enclosures when he stepped into the hallway. He hadn't seen zoos get this amount of detail right for their animals unless it was something small like a gecko. Yet, even when gawking where the animals should be, none seemed to appear to give him any clues. At least he knew by now they weren't any pet he would find in a pet store, but any other creature still felt fair game.

Emery's question pulled Mitch's attention back to the older man. "Oh- uh, no. Most I've dealt with large aggressive dogs before, but I don't think those really count... You're not going to throw me in with some lions, are you?" He gave a bit of nervous laughter as though he made a joke, but a part of him wanted to hold it as a serious question. He was expecting to feed a few critters, not being eaten.
 
Emery glances back at Mitch as he makes the comment about lions, an amused smile on his face. He says nothing as he comes to a halt in front of another jungle biome, this one slightly smaller. Seeing as Mitch seems to have little to no experience with predators, this seems like a good start.

"Well, let's see how you do, hm? I promise this one won't tear you limb from limb. They're one of my more docile species." Emery moves to the door, putting in a code on the pinpad. He then gestures for Mitch to enter the room. "Why don't you go introduce yourself?"
 
He was waiting for Emery to laugh with him, or at the very least reassure him he wasn't going to get eaten, but the older man did neither. He glanced to the now unlocked door, then back to Emery. They were joking, right? Did he really expect him to enter a room with a creature he had no idea about? Mitch waited a beat, then another, then realized the other man was completely serious.

Mitch hesitated, but eventually murmured a quiet fuck it under his breath. He was probably worrying for nothing, Emery simply playing some joke and having something harmless inside the enclosure. Maybe a marmoset or something, a little predator whose only dangerous quality was nibbling your ankle. He didn't want to seem like a coward. "Alright, fine. Let's see what we have here." He swallowed down his nerves, entering the smaller enclosure and having a small look around.
 
Emery waits until Mitch is several paces into the enclosure, then closes the door. It locks automatically with a quiet click. Emery moves to stand at the window, his arms folded calmly behind his back, watching. He doesn't reply to anything Mitch says, but he can hear him; there's a two-way sound speaker, and while Emery has to press a button beside the window to speak into the enclosure, all Mitch has to do is talk.

It takes about two minutes before something starts happening. Vines of varying thicknesses start sliding across the enclosure floor toward Mitch. Some hanging from the ceiling also reach for him. One wraps around his ankle and starts spiraling up, over his pantleg. Another reaching from the ceiling touches his neck.
 
Mitch gave a small yelp when the door closed behind him, without Emery in tow. He was alone with whatever was in there. But he wasn't a coward, this was fine. He let out a shakey sigh, forcing himself to calm down as he investigated the enclosure. Mitch wasn't an expert, he didn't pretend to be, but he couldn't find any evidence of animals inside. No prints, no dishes, but he also didn't stray out of sight of the window just in case something happened. Then Emery could see and let him out... hopefully. Maybe it was deeper inside somewhere?

"Are you sure anything's in here?" he asked, "I can't..." Mitch paused, his eyes locking on a slithering shape moving across the ground. A snake? No- it was a vine moving far more than a plant should. Just as he noticed it, more started to move, turning and sliding toward him. "What? Wait- hold on-" He stammered, stepping back only to step right in the path of a vine, which happily took the opportunity to snag his leg. Mitch was quick to try to untangle himself, but a brief touch on the back of his neck shifted his attention, trying to swat the vine away.

"Emery?! Ok, this was funny, I want out now!" He failed to hide the panic and bewilderment in his voice. How was this even possible?
 
Emery stands calmly, watching Mitch as one would watch a simple lab experiment; no emotion on his face. The vine climbing the young man's leg coils around his thigh as another vine starts climbing the other leg.

The vine Mitch tried to swat away catches his wrist, wrapping around and spiraling up his arm. Another catches the other hand soon after and does the same. In less that a minute, the vines have spiraled around all four of Mitch's limbs. They tighten, then lift Mitch off the enclosure floor.

Suspended two feet above the floor, it would be nigh impossible for Mitch to pull free. More vines snake along his arms, sliding over his shirt, then up under it from the hem. The vines are warm, pushing his shirt up, the ends of the vines wrapping around his chest.
 
Mitch struggled futilely against the vines, the plants only winding tighter and further around his limbs. He kicked and tugged, wriggling within the vine's grasp, but nothing he could do would get them to loosen. "Emery!" He called, but when his wide eyes met the other's, he knew they weren't going to help. Mitch's fear momentarily spoiled into anger, but the vines pulled his attention once more, Emery forgotten in his efforts to free himself.

He shuddered as the vines reached the skin of his midriff, traveling up his body. With his arms held within the plant's grasp, there was nothing he could do to prevent them. "Damn it-" He hissed. He wasn't quite sure what they wanted yet, searching the enclosure for some venus flytrap maw, worried he was going to get devoured by some plant.
 
Another vine climbs Mitch's leg, and it becomes apparent that they're not regular vines. This vine somehow manages to unbutton, then unzip the young man's jeans. That done, it slides into the waistband, circling Mitch's waist and pushing his jeans and underwear down steadily. A separate pair of vines slide along his hips, sitting downward as the first air that had held his legs pull his jeans and underwear down, then off along with his shoes.

The vines at his arms and legs tighten, pulling his limbs outward, starfishing him in the air. Naked from the waist down, shirt pushed up by the vine around his chest, Mitch would be quite exposed. Emery is still standing at the window, watching, expressionless.

From the floor of the enclosure rises a new vine, darker green than the others, and seeming to ooze a pale yellow slime. This vine trails up Mitch's leg slowly; the slime is comfortably hot.The intercom crackles for a second as Emery pushes the button to speak. "I must admit, Mr. Collins, when I said 'I needed caretakers', what I meant was 'I need breeders'. Humans desperate for money that would do anything. Anything, such as collecting breeding samples for my program."
 
The younger male's breath hitched at the sound of his zipper being pulled, his clothes being shed by the vines with terrifying efficiency. "No-no, stop!" His struggles renewed with force, but he could barely move his arms, the vines free to expose his lower half. Heat quickly rose to his face, his skin flushing a deep red in embarrassment as his body was put on display. His narrow hips, the soft globes of his rear, his manhood, all of it in full view of the window. No amount of tugging would allow his legs to cover his shame.

His green eyes locked on the newly approaching vine which was traveling far too close to his ass for comfort. The intercom hissed, forcing Mitch to glance between Emery and the offending tendril of flora. "I'm not that desperate! I didn't sign up for this, let me out, please!" He was desperate, he could only be late with his rent so many times before his landlord got tired of him and kicked him out. However, whatever was left of his dignity wouldn't allow him to be violated in front of an audience by whatever this plant was.
 
"No, I don't think I will. You took the job when you walked through the front door with no information." Emery folds his hands behind his back again, releasing the intercom button. Just like the other four breeders he currently 'employs', he doesn't intend to let Mitch leave the building now.

The slime covered vine brushes Mitch's inner thigh, beneath his sac, then slides backward. The hot slime makes it easy for the vine to slide against the young man's skin. It also makes it slick for pressing into Mitch's body, slowly, inch by inch, until six inches of thick, slimy vine fill his body.
 
Mitch inhaled, ready to retort and cry back how unfair this was, but all that came out was a shocked yelp when the vine smeared against his perineum, earning an unpleasant quiver from the young man. He wriggled and writhed, trying desperately to displace it from its mark, but he barely hindered it. The vine found the entrance to his hole just fine, pressing against his rim until it finally started to give way.

A wail forced its way past Mitch's lips before he promptly bit his tongue, stifling his noises so as to not give Emery the satisfaction. From his clinical gaze, it was hard to tell if the older male got anything from this other than furthering his research, but it made Mitch feel better to remain quiet. Though, a few whimpers still leaked through, the vine wriggling inside him as it ventured deeper, inadvertently or purposely rubbing against nerves that sent pleasure through his body. He didn't want to enjoy any of this, and more importantly, he didn't want Emery to see if he did.
 
A handful of heartbeats of stillness pass before the slimy vine starts sliding back and forth within Mitch. Its thickness definitely means it's rubbing against the young man's prostate. Thus back and forth action serves no pleasure to the vine, but rather starts the long journey of the base plant's seeds along the internal tunnel of this vine.

The pumping of the vine is steady, rhythmic. Emery watches the progress. As he do3s, he speaks to the young man held in the vines grip. "You will help my program, keep my creatures breeding, so I may continue my work. In return, you will be paid handsomely. For every six months, you will receive five hundred thousand dollars. However, try to escape before the six month period, and you get nothing."

Emery would be surprised if Mitch could maintain his defiant resistance for long. Even the most resistant of his breeders eventually gave in to pleasure. This is the safest creature he has, basically an intelligent plant form, with the plant base being a large bulb that eventually blooms into a massive blood red and orange flower.
 
He hissed as the vine began to move, but his frustrated noises soon began to melt into needy huffs and muffled groans. Even if he refused to admit to the pleasure he was feeling, his body had no qualms against betraying him, his cock starting to stiffen between his legs. His insides squeezed around the tendril, the warmth of its slime coating his inner walls in an odd heat.

The offer of money did give the young man pause. That was a lot, way more than he could make on his own in the same amount of time. It was more than enough to get him back on his feet and off his friend's couches, but was it really enough to sell his body for this? To be used by creatures he didn't even know existed until now? Mitch bit his lip, averting his gaze as though simply not acknowledging the offer would make it go away. He wanted to believe he had more pride, that he wouldn't even consider it, but the money lingered in his head.

Regardless of what he chose, it didn't affect what was happening here and now, the vine pressing against his prostate once more and forcing another pathetic moan from him.
 
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