The new plantlife was… unruly.

Unruly was never a word one might use to describe plants, and yet, here Jett was.

They’d taken up a job at the botanical garden lab, working security and making sure that no one came sniffing around when they weren't wanted. They’d needed the cash, and night shift was the only time they’d be able to make it, so they were being outfitted with a flashlight and radio, and being shown via map where their patrol routes were…

The gardens had a much more sinister atmosphere at night. Every hanging tree branch or cluster of vines could be a looming intruder or worse. Yet Jett had been informed they had little to fear, as there were cameras all over the area. So back up would never be too far behind.

Or so they thought.

Right as the shift was coming to a close, the night guard would pass by one of the partially camouflaged lab entrances… with the slightest sliver of light shining out through a crack in the open door frame. 

Was someone up late, doing research?

Jett would radio in, trying to get the attention of the fox on the monitors. But no answer. So all they could do was poke their head in and investigate.

The room itself was empty, save for a few lights amd the tree planted in the middle. Long vines hung from the branches, swaying without any sort of wind.

Jett closed the door before looking around, investigating and calling for any researcher… just to be sure, of course, in case anything happened!

They were so distracted that they didn’t realize their fatal error: they’d brushed up against one of the vines.

They writhed and bristled, grabbing their limbs and dragging them towards the trunk. Jett yelped, struggling and wide eyed. “What the-?! Hey! Let me go! Put me down, dammit!”

The hapless night guard would be dragged against the trunk of the tree, which, upon closer inspection, was slathered in a thin layer of some sticky slime…they’d be pressed against the vaguely slimy wood, with the vines wrapping around their throat and legs to keep Jett steady. 

“Gh…! Ghlk… pl… plea…” they gasped, shaking their head as they felt the slime drip and ooze over their hands. The more they struggled, the more sticky sap accumulated over their limbs… and the more stuck they became.

No matter how hard they struggled, there was simply no way to break out of their bonds alone. And any attempts at calling for help were silenced by a squeeze to the throat.

The vines got to work, ripping their uniform off and tossing their radio aside. Only when they were naked and secured did the more specialized vines move in. These vines with odd little bell-like buds would menace Jett, much to their horror. They would brush against their half hard cock and perky nipples, teasing with such gentle touches before suctioning on.

Jett arched, eyes wide as they screamed a strangled scream of pleasure… which would quickly be quashed by another pod wrapping around their muzzle and suctioning on. Any attempt at words were muffled and silenced by this pod, drawing the air from their mouth and lungs… all while some thinner, more versatile vines started to wrap around their eyes, blindfolding them in an attempt to calm Jett down…

Of course, it would not work. 

Jett still struggled, letting out pitiful muffled cries for help as the vines kept inspecting their new captive. One had found its way to their cock, latching on and starting to suckle on it, the teasing suction making them get nice and stiff. Meanwhile, two more buds would snap onto their nipples, sucking them and ensuring they were pulled taut before giving the slightest jab with a thorn. Only then, as time went on, would the night guard’s chest start to plump up, small, soft breasts forming on their chest as they struggled.

“Nph?! Nnn! HHHMPH!” They cried, as the budding muzzle switched tactics to try and soothe them. They would be suddenly forced to drink a strange, honey flavored liquid, gumming up their muzzle further as they struggled to call for help. The plant itself seemed to be manufacturing this liquid, which would keep Jett satiated as the plant continued to work on them… the sweetness and viscosity of the liquid would make it hard to talk, hard to swallow, hard to think… their struggles lessened with time, as the vines kept squeezing them…

It would be an hour of this sickly sweet torture before the plant saw fit to seek payment for this feeding. The buds on their breasts would start to suck and tease their nipples, slowly drawing milk from their helpless captive. Jett tossed their head, barely able to make a sound between the muzzle and the sticky nutritious liquid being pushed down their throat… all the while, the vines were also milking their cock, forcing orgasms as needed but ultimately just teasing and coaxing them from Jett naturally.

The plant was entirely too good at its job.

So good, in fact, that Jett would be discovered the next day by scientists, fascinated. They hadn’t been able to get such a strong reaction from the plant despite their months of attempts. So no one was in a hurry to help them down from their sweet and sticky prison…