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Description
(This is a role play from the 1st and 3rd person view. Contains Plant vore, tentacle bondage, Tentacle nipple play, Bad end, Willy Wonka Elements, and humiliation. Please do not read or comment if those don't do anything for you. This is just some Plant Vore - Wonka fun.)

Ms. Mesmer: With the pigsties left behind, the air has cleared somewhat, although now it seems to be getting rather hot and humid as Mesmer leads the remaining girls - probably now feeling a little nervous, if they've been paying attention - down a clinical, white hallway. "Now, I know some of you objected to the scent of the pigs, so I must warn you that this room can also be a little smelly... although, I don't suppose many people mind the scent of flowers," she says opening a set of double-doors at the end of the hall. The room beyond is an enormous tropical greenhouse, with pools of water-lilies, hanging vines sprawling across the metal grated walkways, and countless plants of all kinds filling the place from floor to ceiling. The plants vary in size from little delicate orchids to massive trees, and the walkways crisscross the room at different heights to allow them to be viewed from many levels. The air is, as promised, fragrant and heavy with perfume, but also very warm and stickily humid. "This is one of my favorite rooms, you know. It's so relaxing in here! Now, I must caution you on two things - firstly, if you're wearing high heels, take them off, and we'll lend you something else to wear. The walkways have holes in them for drainage, and you wouldn't want to trip. Second, please don't eat any of the plants! In fact, probably best not to touch them at all. Everything here is extremely edible, that is to say, delicious - but there will be samples when we're done. If you simply grab things willy-nilly you could damage the plants, and some of them are rare and valuable."

Stacey: As we walk through the room I feel the humidity sticking to my exposed skin. "FEEEWWW it is HAWT in here!" I grab the edges of my flannel shirt and flap it up and down to get fresh air under my shirt. My bra flashing several times. Sweat rolls down my head. I had not eaten much on this tour. I was on a strict vegan diet. I have a hot date tomorrow night and I don't want to be bloated with chocolate for it. There is a vine hanging next to the walkway clutching a large red strawberry the size of my head. It hangs in front me like a pendulum. I look out and see the walk way nowhere near the end. "Mesmer, do you think I could have a bite?" I ask. My tummy rumbling.

Ms. Mesmer: Meredith looks around and calls back "No! I know it looks delicious, but there are going to be some of those ready for you to eat when we're out the other side of the greenhouse! Please don't damage my plants!"

The tour continues, and MS Mesmer seems content to skip her usual lectures and simply let people admire the incredible, beautiful plants. Fox-gloves the size of goblets brimming over with sweet-scented nectar - which she carefully extracts with a pipette and dispenses a few drops onto eager tongues - thick succulents which she carefully cuts into with a penknife to show the blood-red, wine-like sap within, also allowing a lucky few to have a taste, enormous plum-like fruits which she tests for ripeness with careful fingers before twisting one away from the stem and cutting it open for people to sample the luscious flesh within.

The tour winds up a spiral staircase to one of the upper walkways, and Meredith pauses for a moment. "Ah, I did say that people generally enjoy the scent of flowers, but that might not be the case here. I personally don't mind, but some people find it... objectionable. I won't be offended if you hold your noses!" she says cheerfully before setting off again. The plant in question is immense - it would take up an entire normal greenhouse by itself! The flowers are taller than a person, and shaped like massive pitcher-plants, and its arm-thick vines coil over and around trees and walkways alike. Over each pitcher hangs clusters of fat red fruit, glossy, juicy, and inviting, and the aroma from those pitchers is... well, frankly sexual. A sweet, heady musk, laden with pheromones. Mesmer seems unwilling to hand out samples of this one, though, but the fruit clusters are almost within reach of the walkway.

Stacey: I huff and puff. The smell is salty and sweet. It smells like my own cum. Fresh and clean. I bite my lips. What does fruit that smells like sex taste like? "Aww fuck it. One bite won’t hurt anything." I step up on the little lip of the cat walk and reach out to grab the fruit. My hands clutch the firm fruit. My fingers wrapping around it. "Got you, fucker!" I say with a big joyful smile.

Ms. Mesmer: Meredith had, in fact, glanced back just in time to see you leaning over the edge of the catwalk... and waited until you grabbed the plump, ripe fruit before saying anything. "Stacey! No, wait, don't touch that!" she shouts, but it's too late. The fruit is firm, and it won't come away from the vine - and it's sticky. Way too sticky, too sticky for you to let go of it, and it's moving! The thick, tentacle-like vine contracts, pulling you towards the glossy, reddish, puffy, almost sexual lip of the pitcher below.

Stacey: "OHHHH MY GOD!!" I yell as I am yanked hard up. My hands are stuck like glue. As soon as I squeezed it honey like substance leaked out the skin. I kick my dangling feet in the air. MY fingers locked in place. As I hover over the vegetation I stop trying to let go and just hope I don't fall. "Get me down. Grab my legs. Its gonna drop me and I will break a bone for sure." I kick and flail and scream. Panic setting in. "Mesmer! Call for a ladder!!!" I scream. Sweat dripping off my head. My heart pounding.

Ms. Mesmer: MS Mesmer moves quickly and calmly, retrieving a long pole with a hook on the end from a stash above the walkway, and gently "excuse-me"ing her way past the other children until she's close enough to reach over and grab you with the hook... except she misses, and manages to just get the hook inside your shirt, so that when she pulls all that happens is that the buttons ping off. "Whoops! Well, let's try that again. Could you have a go?" she says, passing the pole to Connie. "I'll get a ladder. Don't worry, Stacey, you won't fall. It won't let go until you're inside it!" she says, perhaps less reassuring than she'd meant to be. The plant seems to be waking up now, thick coiling tentacles wrapping around your arms and legs, dragging you slowly down towards the syrupy mouth of that massive pitcher.

Stacey: POP POP POP POP! My shirt blasts open and my black bra is exposed. "That didn't help. Just reach out further. You can get me!!" I scream desperately. My legs are getting stiff as they are being coiled by veins. The vine that holds the fruit is growing downward over my arms. "Pull me in quick!!! It’s not letting go!!" My arms and legs can’t bend. I feel like I am tied with rope. Stiff and unmoving. But I feel my body getting lower and lower to the ground. "What’s happening? What’s gonna happen to me?" I shrill as the vines on my legs are all the way up my thighs.

Ms. Mesmer: Meredith leans over the edge of the spiral staircase as you descend past her. "Oh, don't worry! It'll take days to digest a meal as big as you, if it can even manage to, so we've got plenty of time to get you out. You'll just have to sit tight while we figure out how," she says, as your feet reach the sticky opening of the pitcher and start to be sucked inside. Hundreds of smaller tentacles start to wriggle and squirm over them, peeling you out of your shoes and socks, exploring all the skin they can reach. They're cool and slimy and a little ticklish, and they're steadily creeping higher and higher as you're pulled lower and lower into the plant's gooey embrace.

Stacey: I wriggle my toes over what feels like cold slimy spaghetti. "What are you talking about? You can't let it eat me. You need to pull me out now!!" I want to flail. I would rather fall at this point but I can't move a muscle. I am tight and trapped. "Please. Please don't let it eat me. I will do anything you want. ANYTHING!!" I moan a digested moan "AHHHHHH ITS GOING UP MY LEGS!!" I feel slimy tendrils creeping up under my pants. "HELP HELP! CUT IT DOWN. It feels so gross!"

Ms. Mesmer: Meredith seems more eager to lecture you than to go and fetch a ladder, and Connie has only managed to hook your bra and pull that off, too, provoking some giggles from above. "Hush, dear. I'm telling you, it's not going to eat you! It's not adapted to eat large mammals. You'll probably just spend a day or two inside it while we find a way to get you out without damaging it. It's quite harmless, I assure you! You can plead and beg all you like, but I can't exactly ASK it to let go. I don't speak plant," she says matter-of-factly, as those slick, slimy tendrils squirm and ooze up over your skin. As you sink to your waist in the ravenous pitcher, the tentacles slickly slide inside your panties and wriggle and squirm over your body.

Stacey: RIPPPPPPP!!!! MY pants are so full of the tentacles they are bursting at the seams. "Please this is not a joke!!" I scream. I start to convulse and writhe. Tears squeeze out of my eyes. I wait for someone to do something but not a person moves. "THEY ARE GOING TO GO IN ME!!" I scream. My face contorts through dozens of emotions as I feel them wriggle inside all over my naked body. "I don't care about this plant just cut it down and save me!" I weep.

Ms. Mesmer: More and more of the tendrils slip over you, wriggling and squirming as you go deeper. You're now sunk deep into the plant, its lip squeezing your waist like a corset, lifting up your breasts, your body glossy with syrup, looking sheen as you're slowly swallowed up. "Stacey, I can't just cut the plant down. For one thing, it's worth a fortune. For another, it releases all of its digestive juices at once on death. You'd be horrible scarred, and possibly even killed. I assure you, you'll be quite safe in there! We'll throw in plenty of other, easier food to keep it sated until we can move it, lower the temperature to make it hibernate, and pull you out of the pitcher," she says, as it’s probing and squeezing and teasing gradually increases to fever-pitch. "...at least, assuming you WANT to come out at that point~"

Stacey: The lips of the plant roll over my nipples. My eyes roll backwards inside my head. "GAWWWDDDD!!" The tentacles slip and slide, twisting and rubbing over my exposed breasts. I can't speak as my centers are pushed past all human limits. The lips grasp around my neck. The plant is eating all of the scraps of my clothes. Nude and helpless I writhe as the plant pleasures me into a brain dead state. My hair soaking up the slime.

Ms. Mesmer: As you sink until just your face is left framed by the lush, vulva-like lips of the plant, a look of helpless ecstasy on your face and your eyes rolled back in your head, Meredith gives you a cheery wave goodbye. "Well, everyone, I hope that's taught you the value of listening when I tell you not to touch things. Although... she does seem to be rather enjoying herself in there. Anybody want to join her?..... No? …… I won't judge you, it does look awfully cozy," she says playfully, as she climbs back up the stairs and returns to position at the front of the group. "Ah, well. Maybe next time. Come along now, I'll have the menials - I mean, the employees figure out how to get her out of there without harming either her or the plant. And I promise, she'll be absolutely fine. Not digested into sloppy compost at all. Probably."

As Mesmer and the dwindling tour group depart, the red-skinned, chubby worker-demons assemble around the plant, hauling the pitcher and attached vines onto a large flatbed trolley to wheel it away into another room - for rescue or just to keep you as a display piece, you're not sure as they start to sing...

"Always looking for a quick fuck,
But it seems you're thoroughly stuck,"

"There's no way you're getting' out of this,
you think you know pleasure, but you're gonna find,
Overwhelmed by body-wracking bliss,
in a couple of days, you're gonna lose your mind!"

Stacey: Out of the edges of my trembling eyes I see the workers move around me and take me away. I hear them talking but can’t understand a word as my ears are muffled by the plant lips pressing tight on my ears. My feet sink into the bottom of the plants. My wriggling toes are sitting in a pool of hot liquid. The only part of my brain still functioning prays that it is not going to dissolve my feet. Sadly I feel my skin softening. I feel my hair tug down. Vines are wrapped around it and pulling me in by my soaked hair.

The shirking group leaves the sweltering green house. The remaining dwindling tour shoots scared looks at each other. The group was so much larger just a few hours ago. Connie pipes up. "Miss Mesmer, those girls, you know the ones we have “lost” on the tour. Will they be ok? I mean they will be leaving right." Connie is flustered but it is hard to talk and walk at the fast pace Miss Mesmer is moving at down the hall way. Her heels clacking loudly. Connie's question hangs in the air the rest of the group that is paying attention is waiting withheld breath for an answer. Steph is still not fully paying attention, staring at her phone.

Ms. Mesmer: "Oh, yes, they'll be just fine! We'll have Stacey out of that plant before you know it, and Astrid will be allowed to go just as soon as she's finished her supper and had a nap and her diaper changed. It'd be dreadfully cruel to just push her out of the factory gates, strapped into a stroller and still in her baby clothes and a diaper, so we definitely won't do that. Probably. Molly wandered off somewhere, but she won't exactly be able to wander anywhere dangerous without a keycard, so the worst thing that'll happen to her is missing the tour. Dorothy will be quite happy on our pig farm until her proper owners come to collect her," she says, leading the way through a large pair of glass double-doors into another huge factory room, full of hissing and whirring machinery in shiny polished brass, pipes and conveyor-belts and mechanisms assembling all sorts of cakes, from tiny individually iced cupcakes to massive multi-tiered wedding cakes.

Description
(This is a role play from the 1st and 3rd person view. Contains Plant vore, tentacle bondage, Tentacle nipple play, Bad end, Willy Wonka Elements, and humiliation. Please do not read or comment if those don't do anything for you. This is just some Plant Vore - Wonka fun.)

Ms. Mesmer: With the pigsties left behind, the air has cleared somewhat, although now it seems to be getting rather hot and humid as Mesmer leads the remaining girls - probably now feeling a little nervous, if they've been paying attention - down a clinical, white hallway. "Now, I know some of you objected to the scent of the pigs, so I must warn you that this room can also be a little smelly... although, I don't suppose many people mind the scent of flowers," she says opening a set of double-doors at the end of the hall. The room beyond is an enormous tropical greenhouse, with pools of water-lilies, hanging vines sprawling across the metal grated walkways, and countless plants of all kinds filling the place from floor to ceiling. The plants vary in size from little delicate orchids to massive trees, and the walkways crisscross the room at different heights to allow them to be viewed from many levels. The air is, as promised, fragrant and heavy with perfume, but also very warm and stickily humid. "This is one of my favorite rooms, you know. It's so relaxing in here! Now, I must caution you on two things - firstly, if you're wearing high heels, take them off, and we'll lend you something else to wear. The walkways have holes in them for drainage, and you wouldn't want to trip. Second, please don't eat any of the plants! In fact, probably best not to touch them at all. Everything here is extremely edible, that is to say, delicious - but there will be samples when we're done. If you simply grab things willy-nilly you could damage the plants, and some of them are rare and valuable."

Stacey: As we walk through the room I feel the humidity sticking to my exposed skin. "FEEEWWW it is HAWT in here!" I grab the edges of my flannel shirt and flap it up and down to get fresh air under my shirt. My bra flashing several times. Sweat rolls down my head. I had not eaten much on this tour. I was on a strict vegan diet. I have a hot date tomorrow night and I don't want to be bloated with chocolate for it. There is a vine hanging next to the walkway clutching a large red strawberry the size of my head. It hangs in front me like a pendulum. I look out and see the walk way nowhere near the end. "Mesmer, do you think I could have a bite?" I ask. My tummy rumbling.

Ms. Mesmer: Meredith looks around and calls back "No! I know it looks delicious, but there are going to be some of those ready for you to eat when we're out the other side of the greenhouse! Please don't damage my plants!"

The tour continues, and MS Mesmer seems content to skip her usual lectures and simply let people admire the incredible, beautiful plants. Fox-gloves the size of goblets brimming over with sweet-scented nectar - which she carefully extracts with a pipette and dispenses a few drops onto eager tongues - thick succulents which she carefully cuts into with a penknife to show the blood-red, wine-like sap within, also allowing a lucky few to have a taste, enormous plum-like fruits which she tests for ripeness with careful fingers before twisting one away from the stem and cutting it open for people to sample the luscious flesh within.

The tour winds up a spiral staircase to one of the upper walkways, and Meredith pauses for a moment. "Ah, I did say that people generally enjoy the scent of flowers, but that might not be the case here. I personally don't mind, but some people find it... objectionable. I won't be offended if you hold your noses!" she says cheerfully before setting off again. The plant in question is immense - it would take up an entire normal greenhouse by itself! The flowers are taller than a person, and shaped like massive pitcher-plants, and its arm-thick vines coil over and around trees and walkways alike. Over each pitcher hangs clusters of fat red fruit, glossy, juicy, and inviting, and the aroma from those pitchers is... well, frankly sexual. A sweet, heady musk, laden with pheromones. Mesmer seems unwilling to hand out samples of this one, though, but the fruit clusters are almost within reach of the walkway.

Stacey: I huff and puff. The smell is salty and sweet. It smells like my own cum. Fresh and clean. I bite my lips. What does fruit that smells like sex taste like? "Aww fuck it. One bite won’t hurt anything." I step up on the little lip of the cat walk and reach out to grab the fruit. My hands clutch the firm fruit. My fingers wrapping around it. "Got you, fucker!" I say with a big joyful smile.

Ms. Mesmer: Meredith had, in fact, glanced back just in time to see you leaning over the edge of the catwalk... and waited until you grabbed the plump, ripe fruit before saying anything. "Stacey! No, wait, don't touch that!" she shouts, but it's too late. The fruit is firm, and it won't come away from the vine - and it's sticky. Way too sticky, too sticky for you to let go of it, and it's moving! The thick, tentacle-like vine contracts, pulling you towards the glossy, reddish, puffy, almost sexual lip of the pitcher below.

Stacey: "OHHHH MY GOD!!" I yell as I am yanked hard up. My hands are stuck like glue. As soon as I squeezed it honey like substance leaked out the skin. I kick my dangling feet in the air. MY fingers locked in place. As I hover over the vegetation I stop trying to let go and just hope I don't fall. "Get me down. Grab my legs. Its gonna drop me and I will break a bone for sure." I kick and flail and scream. Panic setting in. "Mesmer! Call for a ladder!!!" I scream. Sweat dripping off my head. My heart pounding.

Ms. Mesmer: MS Mesmer moves quickly and calmly, retrieving a long pole with a hook on the end from a stash above the walkway, and gently "excuse-me"ing her way past the other children until she's close enough to reach over and grab you with the hook... except she misses, and manages to just get the hook inside your shirt, so that when she pulls all that happens is that the buttons ping off. "Whoops! Well, let's try that again. Could you have a go?" she says, passing the pole to Connie. "I'll get a ladder. Don't worry, Stacey, you won't fall. It won't let go until you're inside it!" she says, perhaps less reassuring than she'd meant to be. The plant seems to be waking up now, thick coiling tentacles wrapping around your arms and legs, dragging you slowly down towards the syrupy mouth of that massive pitcher.

Stacey: POP POP POP POP! My shirt blasts open and my black bra is exposed. "That didn't help. Just reach out further. You can get me!!" I scream desperately. My legs are getting stiff as they are being coiled by veins. The vine that holds the fruit is growing downward over my arms. "Pull me in quick!!! It’s not letting go!!" My arms and legs can’t bend. I feel like I am tied with rope. Stiff and unmoving. But I feel my body getting lower and lower to the ground. "What’s happening? What’s gonna happen to me?" I shrill as the vines on my legs are all the way up my thighs.

Ms. Mesmer: Meredith leans over the edge of the spiral staircase as you descend past her. "Oh, don't worry! It'll take days to digest a meal as big as you, if it can even manage to, so we've got plenty of time to get you out. You'll just have to sit tight while we figure out how," she says, as your feet reach the sticky opening of the pitcher and start to be sucked inside. Hundreds of smaller tentacles start to wriggle and squirm over them, peeling you out of your shoes and socks, exploring all the skin they can reach. They're cool and slimy and a little ticklish, and they're steadily creeping higher and higher as you're pulled lower and lower into the plant's gooey embrace.

Stacey: I wriggle my toes over what feels like cold slimy spaghetti. "What are you talking about? You can't let it eat me. You need to pull me out now!!" I want to flail. I would rather fall at this point but I can't move a muscle. I am tight and trapped. "Please. Please don't let it eat me. I will do anything you want. ANYTHING!!" I moan a digested moan "AHHHHHH ITS GOING UP MY LEGS!!" I feel slimy tendrils creeping up under my pants. "HELP HELP! CUT IT DOWN. It feels so gross!"

Ms. Mesmer: Meredith seems more eager to lecture you than to go and fetch a ladder, and Connie has only managed to hook your bra and pull that off, too, provoking some giggles from above. "Hush, dear. I'm telling you, it's not going to eat you! It's not adapted to eat large mammals. You'll probably just spend a day or two inside it while we find a way to get you out without damaging it. It's quite harmless, I assure you! You can plead and beg all you like, but I can't exactly ASK it to let go. I don't speak plant," she says matter-of-factly, as those slick, slimy tendrils squirm and ooze up over your skin. As you sink to your waist in the ravenous pitcher, the tentacles slickly slide inside your panties and wriggle and squirm over your body.

Stacey: RIPPPPPPP!!!! MY pants are so full of the tentacles they are bursting at the seams. "Please this is not a joke!!" I scream. I start to convulse and writhe. Tears squeeze out of my eyes. I wait for someone to do something but not a person moves. "THEY ARE GOING TO GO IN ME!!" I scream. My face contorts through dozens of emotions as I feel them wriggle inside all over my naked body. "I don't care about this plant just cut it down and save me!" I weep.

Ms. Mesmer: More and more of the tendrils slip over you, wriggling and squirming as you go deeper. You're now sunk deep into the plant, its lip squeezing your waist like a corset, lifting up your breasts, your body glossy with syrup, looking sheen as you're slowly swallowed up. "Stacey, I can't just cut the plant down. For one thing, it's worth a fortune. For another, it releases all of its digestive juices at once on death. You'd be horrible scarred, and possibly even killed. I assure you, you'll be quite safe in there! We'll throw in plenty of other, easier food to keep it sated until we can move it, lower the temperature to make it hibernate, and pull you out of the pitcher," she says, as it’s probing and squeezing and teasing gradually increases to fever-pitch. "...at least, assuming you WANT to come out at that point~"

Stacey: The lips of the plant roll over my nipples. My eyes roll backwards inside my head. "GAWWWDDDD!!" The tentacles slip and slide, twisting and rubbing over my exposed breasts. I can't speak as my centers are pushed past all human limits. The lips grasp around my neck. The plant is eating all of the scraps of my clothes. Nude and helpless I writhe as the plant pleasures me into a brain dead state. My hair soaking up the slime.

Ms. Mesmer: As you sink until just your face is left framed by the lush, vulva-like lips of the plant, a look of helpless ecstasy on your face and your eyes rolled back in your head, Meredith gives you a cheery wave goodbye. "Well, everyone, I hope that's taught you the value of listening when I tell you not to touch things. Although... she does seem to be rather enjoying herself in there. Anybody want to join her?..... No? …… I won't judge you, it does look awfully cozy," she says playfully, as she climbs back up the stairs and returns to position at the front of the group. "Ah, well. Maybe next time. Come along now, I'll have the menials - I mean, the employees figure out how to get her out of there without harming either her or the plant. And I promise, she'll be absolutely fine. Not digested into sloppy compost at all. Probably."

As Mesmer and the dwindling tour group depart, the red-skinned, chubby worker-demons assemble around the plant, hauling the pitcher and attached vines onto a large flatbed trolley to wheel it away into another room - for rescue or just to keep you as a display piece, you're not sure as they start to sing...

"Always looking for a quick fuck,
But it seems you're thoroughly stuck,"

"There's no way you're getting' out of this,
you think you know pleasure, but you're gonna find,
Overwhelmed by body-wracking bliss,
in a couple of days, you're gonna lose your mind!"

Stacey: Out of the edges of my trembling eyes I see the workers move around me and take me away. I hear them talking but can’t understand a word as my ears are muffled by the plant lips pressing tight on my ears. My feet sink into the bottom of the plants. My wriggling toes are sitting in a pool of hot liquid. The only part of my brain still functioning prays that it is not going to dissolve my feet. Sadly I feel my skin softening. I feel my hair tug down. Vines are wrapped around it and pulling me in by my soaked hair.

The shirking group leaves the sweltering green house. The remaining dwindling tour shoots scared looks at each other. The group was so much larger just a few hours ago. Connie pipes up. "Miss Mesmer, those girls, you know the ones we have “lost” on the tour. Will they be ok? I mean they will be leaving right." Connie is flustered but it is hard to talk and walk at the fast pace Miss Mesmer is moving at down the hall way. Her heels clacking loudly. Connie's question hangs in the air the rest of the group that is paying attention is waiting withheld breath for an answer. Steph is still not fully paying attention, staring at her phone.

Ms. Mesmer: "Oh, yes, they'll be just fine! We'll have Stacey out of that plant before you know it, and Astrid will be allowed to go just as soon as she's finished her supper and had a nap and her diaper changed. It'd be dreadfully cruel to just push her out of the factory gates, strapped into a stroller and still in her baby clothes and a diaper, so we definitely won't do that. Probably. Molly wandered off somewhere, but she won't exactly be able to wander anywhere dangerous without a keycard, so the worst thing that'll happen to her is missing the tour. Dorothy will be quite happy on our pig farm until her proper owners come to collect her," she says, leading the way through a large pair of glass double-doors into another huge factory room, full of hissing and whirring machinery in shiny polished brass, pipes and conveyor-belts and mechanisms assembling all sorts of cakes, from tiny individually iced cupcakes to massive multi-tiered wedding cakes.