fucked up dollthing

You don't need to fight to exist. You don't need to fight to get support. You don't need to fight to live how you want to. You don't need to fight *yourself* to do big changes. You don't need to fight your sicknesses. You don't need to fight poverty. You don't need to fight to live. You can just. Stop. You can just. Be. Be who you want to. Be whatever.

And the entire time, there's a large, wonderful plant woman who wants nothing more than to treat you like a pet. She feeds you, she takes you to the doctors, she worries about providing for you, and all you need to worry about is when you want to play and when you want to cuddle.

And. In a world where I feel like I can't stop fighting or ill die, or I'll lose my rights or whatever. It's a nice escape. One where I don't need to pay attention to the horrible things that are happening for my own wellbeing.

cw: intelligence play, light memory play, clicker training

“I’m smart when I want to be!” You regretted your words the second they left your mouth, and sure enough you now had your Mistress’s undivided attention.

“Petal? I think you meant to say that you are smart when I want you do be.” You hear the slight hum of her biorhythm bouncing off your implant, not strong enough to overwhelm you but enough to warn you that you were on thin ice.

“I uh well sorry Mistress I just thought…” 

She cuts you off before you can even finish the sentence: “No. You don’t think, pet.” This time her biorhythm gave you no room to argue or explain yourself. Your mind simply went 

Blank.

“Come back to me dear.” You hear the musical tones of your Mistress’s voice as you suddenly snap back to awareness. How long had it been? It couldn’t have been long you’re still in the same spot. You decide that it isn’t really important especially when Mistress is talking. “Darling are you back?” You nod silently as the last of the fog clears your head. 

“Normally I would say that this was enough of a demonstration but brats need reminded of their place sometimes don’t they dear?”

“Yes Mistress.” You say it automatically and without hesitation, you know better than to say or do anything else.

“Good pet!” A pulse of pleasure radiates through you before she quickly catches your attention again. 

“I think it’s time for a pop quiz pet! I know how much you used to pride yourself on how smart you were and that fancy education you had. That’s not inherently a bad thing, but the pressures and expectations that they put on you were crushing you before I found you flower. Thinking all the time was hurting you and I simply cannot allow that. Of course it’s ok to be smart sometimes too, but you need balance just as in all other parts of life. You seem to have forgotten that and it’s time for me to give you a reminder that you can be smart, yes, but only when I allow it. Now can you think clearly right now pet?”

You nod again, not knowing what she has planned but eager to find out. “Excellent then lets begin. Don’t worry the questions aren’t hard, especially for a smart girl like you who got such a fancy education,” you feel as well as hear the mocking tone of her voice and remember that with their long lifespans and superior intelligence even the smartest and most educated terran couldn’t hope to compair to an affini. 

“First question: what year did the Affini compact make diplomatic contact with humanity?” That’s easy, it was only a few years ago afterall. Before you can answer though you hear a sharp Click and feel a rush of pleasure that leaves your thoughts just a little more fuzzy than they were before. “Well pet? Whats the answer?” 

You hear another Click and another wave of that fuzzy pleasure floods over you. “That’s easy it’s…” The answer eludes you, replaced with a fuzzy, tingly warmth. Why is your head so foggy  suddenly? You don’t know, but Mistress is waiting for an answer. “I don’t know” you quietly admit.

“Good floret!”

Your Mistress’s praise feels so good that you barely even notice the Click that accompanied it or the fog rising behind it. What was going on again? You were proving you were smart so why is it so hard to think right now?

“Mistress, are you cheating by using xenodruggies to make me stupid?” You slur the words slightly reenforcing your theory that you have been drugged.

“Well first off, it would not be cheating to use xenodrugs on you. You are my pet and I can drug or play with you whenever I choose. But, no dear, you aren’t drugged. You don’t need to be anymore, remember this?” She produces a small plastic object. You whimper involuntarily as memories of countless hours of painstaking training rush back.

“Wait… you clicker trained me then made me forget about it?” You try to sound assertive but fail to hide your arousal at the thought of being trained.

“Watching you remember always was my favorite part. It’s just so cute watching you realize how much I own you. How much control I have over you.” You a faint moan escapes your lips but thankfully she interrupts you before you could embarrass yourself further. “I think its time for the next question: what is the name of the ship we are on?” Click.

Again you know that you should know the answer but it just can’t quite make it through the rising fog. “Uhhhhh I don’t know?” 

“Good pet!” another Click another wave of fuzzy pleasure hits your brain. “That’s right! You don’t know. Afterall why would a silly little pet like you need to remember things like that?” 

Another Click reminds you just how owned you are. “Good pets like you don’t need to think. Good pets like you can’t think, not without their owners permission anyway. You only think when I allow it. You aren’t a person anymore dear, you’re my adorable, obedient pet.” You don’t even try to hide your moan this time, you aren’t even sure you could hide it at this point iso you decide not to bother with trying.

“Ok pet, last question: what are you?” The anticipation you feel waiting for that beautiful Click almost feels as good as hearing it at this point.

“I’m your obedient pet, Mistress.”

“Yes you certainly are dear. I think you deserve a reward for doing such a good job.

Plus, from the feralists perspective - the Affini has grafted cannabis and is able to grow some of the best in the region. It’s a relic of home they sorely miss, and it helps take the edge off their constant stress of being kidnapped and turned into brainless plant-pets. Plus, it can’t be that bad right - it’s not like the weed tries to get them to stay for any longer than it takes to share a bowl.

Life gets better for the feralists, they’re more relaxed - even able to calm down to express care and affection for one another. Rather than bickering, they can actually cuddle to stay warm at night (though, they may not be ready to say that the reason they started cuddling was not for warmth).

The loner Affini, meanwhile, has been slowly increasing the concentration of class-A xenodrugs in the primo kush being given to the feralists. “Stay close, this is a stronger strain”, they say. Eventually the feralists find themselves wanting to linger by the Affini - it’s okay since it’s of their free will, nobody can stop them from leaving… right? Blissfully they drift to sleep not even thinking about the fact they haven’t left the Affini’s house (or den, as they call it). The best sleep since running during the surrender comes to them, only subconsciously knowing it was the xenodrug induced bliss of their Affini’s vines petting them as they slept.

sometimes makes it wave at people to embarrass it

takes shelter inside of the doll when it rains, so she does not wash away

pay for one ticket whenever they go to a movie theater or show.