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Read the Fine Print (NeedleTeeth & BlueAmbient)

Emery stands in silence now, watching the vines have their way with Mitch. He'd be lying if he said he didn't get anything out of watching. Of course he does, a thrill.of excitement seeing a human at the mercy of a horny creature. But his self control prevents anything from showing on his face, or in his posture.

Almost five minutes of this pass. It's not enough movement to bring Mitch to climax, but enough to bring him to the edge over and over. However, now, five large lumps can be seen traveling along the inside of the slimy vine. Moving up towards Mitch's body. Emery notices immediately and smiles faintly.
 
The first time, he saw the edging as almost a bittersweet blessing in disguise. He didn't want to cum from this. The fact his body was receptive to it at all felt reprehensible, and yet, as he was brought close to his peak again and again, his feelings quickly changed. Mitch went from fighting to flee to fighting for more, struggling to buck against the dripping tendril invading his depths and barely hiding his noises. He was so close he swore he could taste it, but the vine never gave that final push over the edge, leaving him dangling and needy. At times he would remember Emery was there and halt his movements, trying and failing to hide his stiff, drooling cock from view, but the plant would pull him back into a lust-filled haze soon enough.

Mitch didn't notice the bulges at first, too engrossed in trying to reach his own climax that the vine's purpose faded into the background. It wasn't until they were between his legs did his eyes land on them, lids once half-closed in arousal shooting up in shock. Five?! Could he fit that many? "Wait!" He pled, his voice coming breathy, lacking the conviction it had earlier. His legs tugged hard on the vines restraining them, but they barely budged, unable to close or block entry.
 
The lumps move up the vine, even as it continues pumping in Mitch's body. The first one reaches him, and there's a definite stretch, though the motion of the vine has relaxed Mitch's muscles. The vine pushes deeper into the young man's body, then deposits what is actually a seed, coated in the vine's slime.

The seeds push into Mitch's body, and each one creates a heavy pressure on his prostate. One by one, the seeds are deposited. When the last one is in Mitch's body, his lower abdomen is slightly distended. Emery nods approvingly. This plant reproduces by using warm-blooded creatures to transport its seeds.

Now finished producing seeds, the vines entrapping Mitch lower him to the ground. As they do, Emery keys open the sliding door, walking in with a towel and basket in hand. The vines retreat into the underbrush, and into the overhead foliage.
 
Mitch whimpered as he felt his rim stretch taut to accommodate the seed's entry, though the sheer bliss of it rubbing against his insides was more than enough to make up for it. The first seed popped inside, the younger male crying out as he finally reached his peak and climaxed. His cock throbbed, sending ropes of semen to decorate the jungle floor, his clenching internals helping the seed ascend further into his body.

The rest of the plant's brood followed suit without issue, only prolonging Mitch's orgasmic bliss as they one by one passed the sensitive bundle of nerves within him like a lewd parting gift. Mitch had never felt so full and heavy, the young man panting to regain his breath. It was odd, but distressingly not unpleasant, his only discomforts coming from his internal conflict and the stretch the seeds put his body through.

Mitch made no effort to stand when the plant was finally finished with him, ending up laying on the floor when Emery finally came to his rescue. Slime coated his inner thighs, leaving him feeling sticky and used, but that was the least of Mitch's concern. He couldn't take his eyes off the small swell to his stomach, his head still struggling to grasp what had just happened. Going from learning a plant like that could even exist to suddenly carrying its spawn a few minutes later was a lot to take in.
 
Emery pauses to pull his phone out of his pocket, promptly snapping a couple pictures of the slime coated and seed filled younger man. Then he crouches and presses on Mitch's abdomen, massaging downward. The pressure encourages the seeds to travel downward, passing over Mitch's prostate again before slowly popping from his body.

Emery is expressionless as he cleans off the seeds with the towel, before placing them in the basket. That done, he slides his arms beneath Mitch, lifting him up. One hand also grabs the handle of the basket.

"Mr. Collins, you will be staying here in my facility. Your needs will be cared for, and you will work for me, aiding my breeding program." Emery walks as he talks, carrying Mitch to his chest. The slime on the younger man doesn't seem to bother Emery as it rubs off on his clothing. "You will get rest days, don't worry about that. Every other day, you will breed with a creature, and I will get the specimen samples I need." Emery reaches the elevator and steps in, pressing the button for basement floor one.
 
Mitch had barely enough time to acknowledge pictures were being taken before Emery descended next to him, pushing on his stomach. "Hold on, you don't have to-" His words trailed off as the seeds began to travel within him, the pleasure cutting his words short. He gave a muffled moan, each seed slipping out of him without much fanfare, though Emery's much more tangible presence did cause a resurgence in the smaller male's embarrassment.

As much as Mitch wanted to protest being carried, he knew he would simply make more of a fool of himself trying to walk on weak legs, so he quietly festered instead. Emery spoke and Mitch listened, less than excited to learn his new work schedule. At least a lot of the stressors that caused him to be in this situation were negated, no worries of rent or essentials. All he had to worry about was what Emery was going to toss him with next...

"Will I get a warning about what it is beforehand or is it more fun for you to keep it a surprise?" His tone was accusatory, residual resentment barely hidden.
 
"That is entirely up to you." Emery steps out of the elevator when it dings, into another white hallway. This one is lined with six doors, spread far apart, and labeled with numbers, three doors on eqch side. He walks to the first door on the right, labeled with the number two. A quick number into the keypad and the door slides open.

Inside is basically an apartment; living room, fully stocked kitchen, bathroom, and spacious enough bedroom. Technically the space is big enough it could have had a second bedroom, instead of the large space of the living room. A huge wall screen makes for a false window, with a remote in a table nearby.

Emery sets Mitch on his feet, releasing him only when the younger man has his balance. "Do you need assistance bathing, Mr. Collins?" Emery raises one eyebrow, grey eyes tracing Mitch's slime coated lower body.
 
"A warning would be nice..." He huffed. It would at least give him a moment to mentally prepare himself or keep himself safe if the creature was more dangerous than animated vines.

They entered the room and Mitch took a moment to take it in. It was much better than what he had been living in before, his old apartment small and cheap in an effort to keep within his budget. Mitch was appreciative of the extra space, momentarily forgetting what he had to do to keep it.

Emery placed him down, and while his legs trembled for a second, he could remain upright on his own. The older man's remark was met with a sour scowl, not unlike a child pouting at an adult's aid. "I can handle myself, thank you." He was pretty sure he could at least, his legs felt fine, if a little limp. It was nothing the warm water of a bath couldn't rectify.
 
"Very well. I will come collect you in two days time. There's no internet connection in this room, but help yourself to the game consoles, TV, and books. The kitchen has food, eat whatever you like. If there's specific food you want, make a list, and I will collect it for you." Emery drapes the towel over his arm, looks Mitch over one more time, then turns and leaves. The door slides shut behind him, and there's a mechanical buzz as it locks. There's a pinpad on the inside, but without knowing the code, there's no way to open the door.

Emery returns to the vines enclosure, going back inside to fetch Mitch's jeans and underwear. He had purposely left them there so Mitch wouldn't ask about his cell phone back at the room. Once collected, Emery shuts off the phone and leaves the enclosure. His next stop is the lab, to store the new seeds. This plant reproduces asexually, and rarely does it give him a seed without the mutated gene. However, it takes five days for it to produce five more seeds, so he's glad it's thriving in its enclosed environment.
 
Mitch waited a few beats after Emery left before heading to the bathroom and running himself a warm bath. The slime thankfully wasn't too stubborn, washing off with relative ease and allowing Mitch to just soak and relax for a few minutes.

Emery had given him the tools, so Mitch didn't feel too guilty pampering himself as recompense. He played plenty on the consoles he couldn't afford before, indulged in his hobby of cooking to make himself something much more flavorful than he could before in his old apartment, and simply used his new living space to its full potential. He rationalized he was just taking advantage of what he had before he escaped, though he made no attempts to flee that night. He could have tried to guess the number lock or made plans to ask for something innocuous that would aid in his escape, but he did neither, instead falling asleep in a nest of thick, comfy blankets.
 
After the lab, Emery made sure to visit his four other breeders, who'd all done their duties earlier that morning. After making sure there was nothing they needed, he headed for the apartment labeled with the one, across the hall from Mitch's quarters. This was his own apartment. After a quick meal and a fresh change of clothing, he spent the evening flipping through the books that lined the walls of his living room, making notes in one of his many, many journals. It was late when he finally retired to bed.

The next morning, Emery dressed in a blue button down and his black jeans again. Foregoing breakfast, he left the apartment and headed to his lab. It's early, just after 7am, but his schedule revolves around his research.
 
With no real need to get up, Mitch slept in late. He had no job to get up for, no need to look around to see if anyone had any chores they were willing to pay him to do. It was oddly soothing, even if he had to be effectively kidnapped in order to achieve it...

Mitch was left with free reign of his apartment, given a free day to rest. He made himself a nice breakfast before lounging on the couch, treating himself to some T.V to pass the time. He wondered briefly if people noticed he was gone yet, but promptly skipped the news channels before he could give himself an answer. They probably didn't, it's only been a day. Mitch didn't tell people what he was doing or where he was going either, so even if they did acknowledge his absence, there would be no telling how long it would be before they found him... if they did at all...

Mitch pushed those thoughts out of his head, though he did glance to the door a few times, eyeing the pinpad. The buttons showed no signs of wear and tear, giving him no guesses as to what numbers the combination could possess. He would have to try all of them if he wanted to brute force his way out, assuming some kind of alarm didn't go off if he input the wrong one. It was a useless endeavor to attempt escape now, he might as well save his energy...
 
Come noon, Emery finally pulls himself away from his work. Stretching, he stands and leaves the lab. Yesterday, he had left Mitch's jeans in his own room, and now he finds the young man's car keys in the pocket. To the elevator, up to the lobby, then outside to Mitch's car. He gets in and turns it on, driving it around to the back of the facility. Here, he's got garage doors for the vehicles of his breeders, and his own jeep. This back garage is why the interior seems distorted for space.

With Mitch's car now stowed, Emery returns inside and heads for his own apartment. Lunch time. However, after staring into the fridge for several minutes, Emery sighs and settles for just an apple. That was a problem of his; many foods just didn't sit well with him, so it was always difficult for him to find foods to eat.
 
The more time passed, the more Mitch started to get antsy. The reprieve was nice for a while, but now all he could focus on was how he was stuck, not on some vacation. He was in his own little enclosure, the TV and games his enrichment until he was needed. The young man started to pace, torn between his want to escape and his need to stay. Here had his needs met, he could get more than enough money to be comfortable if he just stayed for a few months, but his pride didn't want him to just sit down and accept it either.

Mitch traveled in circles: pacing, glaring at the pin pad, forcing himself to sit back down on the couch and endure a few more minutes of a show before he would get up and pace again to start the cycle anew. He didn't have his phone, he couldn't even tell his family he was ok, if being fucked by whatever critters Emery possessed counted as "ok." He skipped lunch, but forced himself to cook again as a distraction when dinner came around. He didn't have a way to look up recipes, but that didn't seem to hinder Mitch any, knowing a few good meals by heart. Simply the act of cooking was a soothing experience, though his worries still squabbled in the back of his head.
 
Emery's afternoon is spent with his books and notebooks in his apartment again. Come dinner time, he chooses not to cook, instead stretching and considering checking on his newest breeder. After almost fifteen minutes of deliberation, he sighs and leaves his apartment, crossing the hall.

Emery doesn't knock, just inputs his code to slide the door open. Stepping in, the door slides shut behind him. "Mr. Collins, how was your first day of rest?" Emery folds his arms behind his back, glancing around to see if any destruction had been done. One of his other breeders had destroyed his apartment in anger; Emery had punished him by giving him extra work days on top of leaving him to clean up the mess alone.
 
Mitch was in the middle of plating his meal when he heard the door slide open, jolting where he stood and turning to notice Emery's entrance. The apartment was fine, though a little more lived in than before, the smell of pasta sauce filling the spacious apartments and ingredients he had yet to put away still sitting on the counter. A small sticky note of desired ingredients was already started, stuck to the side of the fridge for when Mitch had the courage to ask for them. There was storebought sauce already inside, but Mitch had elected to make his own to elongate his cooking time and give him something to do. Homemade stuff always tasted better anyway.

"It was fine." He said curtly, ladling some sauce over his pasta before sliding the plate to the side, intending to see what Emery wanted before he ate. "Is there something you need or have you just decided to stay for dinner?" There was a little snark to his tone. He certainly had enough for two, he always had problems when it came to making too much pasta, but he didn't expect Emery to take him up on the offer.
 
Emery lets a little smirk play across his lips at Mitch's sass. It's to be expected; Emery had basically coerced, then trapped Mitch here. But that fact doesn't play on his conscience. Emery makes not of the list, but he will leave it here until tomorrow, in case Mitch wants to add to it.

"Truthfully, I came to see if you had destroyed your accommodations. It seeks as though you've avoided such unpleasantness." Emery's tone is light, like someone praising a dog. "Did you indulge in the entertainment? Any of the books provided?" There seems to be a hint to his voice. In fact, while many of the books on the shelves are normal novels of various genres, one shelf is filled with books of mythological creatures.
 
Mitch knew what he was getting at, the collection of books not unnoticed considering what his job now entailed. He poked through one of them during his pacing sessions. Mitch wasn't sure what he was trying to gain with it, maybe he was trying to show himself it wasn't worth staying if it meant having to fuck whatever was in the book... or maybe trying to convince himself it wouldn't be terrible. Regardless, he didn't get very far into his first book before getting flustered and dropping it to do something else, the book still resting on the coffee table as he had forgotten to put it back.

"The TV's nice," he mused slowly, trying to avoid the subject of books until he decided if he even wanted to talk about them. "I didn't know they make 'em that big, you know? It's interesting to play games on it." He gave a nervous chuckle that trailed off. "Would it be... helpful, if I read the books?" The question was posed almost sheepishly. He didn't really want to read them, but he knew at the same time he should probably know what he was getting into. He knew the classics like werewolves, driders, and naga, but he noticed the book illustrated ones he wasn't even aware of, some that were near alien. He didn't know if Emery was going to be at all helpful before he was thrown in with them either...
 
Emery chuckles softly, certainly amused by Mitch going from sassy to shy. He folds his arms over his chest, leaning his shoulder against the wall. "There's more truth to those books than humans know. It could help to know what to expect."

Emery stares at Mitch a moment longer, then decides to throw him a bone, so to speak. "I recommend the chapter on imps. There's several subspecies." Emery straightens from the wall and turns to the door. "On that note, I will be here to collect you at 9am. Goodnight, Mr. Collins." And with that, Emery takes his leave, the door sliding shut and clicking locked behind him.
 
As quickly as Emery appeared, he was gone, leaving a little wisdom before he left. Mitch gave a heavy sigh, left in silence to finish his dinner and clean up the mess he made in the kitchen. As he did so, he kept on glancing back at the book. At this point he resided to the fact he had to read it, but he still didn't want to. He didn't want to face what he was eventually going to have to do, but he didn't want to go in blind either, stuck in a small conflict with himself.

He took his time cleaning up and then procrastinated by watching an episode of a show he liked, but eventually picked up the book once more and flipped through the pages to find the imps. Mitch read through all of it, from the basic knowledge to how each subspecies differed. He knew some parts, like that they were smaller, mischievous little devil creatures, but he learned about how there were so many different types and small trivia he was sure to forget by time morning rolled around.

Mitched stayed up late playing games before eventually heading to bed when he couldn't remain awake anymore, trying to forget what he had to do in the morning to sleep peacefully.
 
The following morning, Emery is unlocking Mitch's door at a casual 10am. He's dressed more relaxed than the previous day, in black jeans and a simple grey turtleneck. He's got a small, silver metal box in hand. Stepping into Mitch's quarters, Emery looks around for the boy.

"Mr. Collins, time to work. I need to place a collection device to ensure the breeding sample doesn't go to waste." Emery sets the box on the kitchen table, flipping open the top. Inside is a small pale blue, flat silicone ring, a smaller open box with what looks like some.sort of thin silicone sacs, and a small bottle of medical adhesive.
 
Mitch had enough time to make himself some breakfast and set down with a casual book until the click of the door signaled Emery's arrival. He tensed, knowing the reason why he was showing up, but simply 'not wanting to' wasn't going to make the man go away. He put his book down, watching Emery enter the room with a box.

The younger man was dressed rather plainly, just a grey blank t-shirt and jeans. They were just going to get messed up, he didn't feel the need to put extra attention in his appearance. He stood up from his seat on the couch, glancing over in curiosity at the box. He frowned a bit at its contents. "Is it like... some sort of reverse condom or something?" He supposed it made sense. It would be easier to slip something inside a more cooperative participant than try and wrangle and imp down, but it didn't mean he was thrilled about it.
 
Emery glances over at Mitch, smiling at his frown. "You could certainly call it that. As you can imagine, imps don't produce seeds with a hard shell like plantlife does. As such, I need to have some method of collecting the semen without contamination." Emery hooks a finger at Mitch, indicating he come over to the table. "Come here, bend over the table. This will only take a moment."

While waiting for Mitch to comply, Emery pulls on a pair of gloves, then picks up the silicone ring and folds the edge of a silicone sac around it, The outside of the sac looks slippery, like it has a thin film of lube on it already. "Come now, I don't have all day."
 
Mitch hesitated until the second prompting, needing another push to finally comply. He rationalized he was going to get worse things than prodding fingers in a few minutes, he could just suck it up and deal with it.

He bent himself over the table, the heat of embarrassment tinting his cheeks pink. "Is there a chance can do this myself next time?" He asked quietly, reluctantly catching the hem of his pants with his thumbs and pulling them down to give the man access to his rear.
 
Emery stands behind Mitch once the boy has bent himself over the table. His hands are warm on the boy's skin as he spreads Mitch's cheeks. Though he's gentle, Emery doesn't take more than thirty seconds to push the silicone sac into Mitch's body. Then he takes the medical glue and applies it to the edge of the ring, before pressing it to the boy's skin. Unlike his hands, the glue is cold.

"Can you see behind yourself to correctly place the glue and the ring?" Emery's voice is heavily sarcastic, and mildly annoyed. The glue dries quickly, and Emery steps back, closing the box. "The glue lasts about five hours. That is how long you have to collect a sample."

Emery waits for Mitch to pull his pants back up, then walks to the door. It's obviously time to go, as he opens it and turns to wait for Mitch. Emery leads Mitch to the elevator, pressing the button for the next floor down. "I will tale you to the enclosure, but then I must leave you there. I have other breeders to escort."
 
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