Archive of Our Own ^beta

Daddy didn’t have to mimic a terran body so accurately as to include a heavy pair of balls hanging between his legs. He didn’t even keep them formed most of the time. I had thought them an ornamental bit of dedication to the bit of human mimicry the first time I saw them- or at least the first time I was allowed to remember. Mainly for show, like the bunny ears I had.

Then I smelled and tasted them for the first time, and I realized they were quite functional.

Daddy was not a human, no matter how well he could play the game of looking like one. The utility of this part of his body was not to produce reproductive material or hormones, of course. They were there to control me, just like everything else about my Daddy. The eyes I could fall into, injectors that turned me into his needy little bunny at the slightest whim. And yes, the imitation of balls. The ones currently on my face.

They sat, heavy on my forehead, a soft fuzzy surface I was so eager to resume worshiping with my mouth. I made a little whining noise, as something like coconut oil ran down my nose. I needed them, I had been trained with drugs and rewards to service my Daddy in a way that was all the more humiliating for how much it turned me on and served no actual purpose. It wasn't even an act he derived any direct physical pleasure from. 

It was a sex act, but it wasn’t about sex, not really. It was power, power over me, leveraging the heat his implant pumped into my nethers to make me pliable. The flaccid cock currently flopped over my hair and between my biomodded bunny ears was not functional, any attempt to penetrate me would probably have it unraveling uselessly against the entrance. I did not know, I had no memory of him ever trying. It was there because having the weight of a cock on my head drove me fucking crazy. Stimulation, climax, or the inherent pleasure of a mammal body was not the end goal, and the very drugs that drove my reproductive instincts into an inescapable frenzy for a week out of every month also rendered my own efforts ineffective to relieve the need.

His thighs straddled me, but dissolved into a mess of vines beneath the knee, becoming a thick tangle of knotted restraints that held my wrists pinned above my head and my ankles apart. A position of absolute, helpless submission to the one who owned every cell of my body. We lay atop his bed, which he was so gracious to let me sleep in during my heat cycles when I needed constant touch to even function.

I always craved to submit to my Daddy, of course. He was the most important thing in the universe. But what form that submission took was cyclic, and I was currently in the depths of my heat. An animal need to be knocked up and fucked, a biological urge to mate that I could not resist. The only mate I needed was him, and he was more than happy to fill my bloodstream with phytotoxins and coat my skin with pollen. Human sexuality? That was beneath him.

The smooth skin between my legs where genitals might once have been burned. I was driven to be fucked, to be used, to be bred, in a hole that did not exist. It was one of the many drives I was inclined to assume I had never possessed before the haustorium burrowed its way into my mind and twisted my sense of intimacy to one more easily dominated and manipulated. I didn’t know where innate desires ended and the effects of the cycle began, only that I was being sucked under by it.

He was teasing me. Gently humping himself against my face in a way that meant literally nothing to a xeno, but he knew I found humiliating. That was his game, to tease me, condition me with the tools my own evolution had sharpened like blades to cut through my higher cognition. The smell was inescapable, but I needed to taste again.

It was degrading, how much this simulation of a simple, vulgar body part was a skeleton key to my libido. I knew that the scents in the air I found so addicting were the lacings of drugs that had accelerated my own bonding instincts, but caring was long beyond me. What was there to care about? The best thing or things in the universe were hanging on the bridge of my nose, making me go cross eyed. I was intoxicated beyond reason by the scent alone. I needed them back where they could fill my nostrils with the most powerful scents, and dutifully lick the textured surface.

I tried to lean forward with my tongue extended, but there was a clicking sound of disapproval, and a hand pushed me back down flat. It was not good behavior, but I knew he wouldn’t punish me, not when my body was afire with induced desire. I wouldn’t call it fair, but it was never unkind. He knew what I needed, after all. He decided it.

“Please, Sir,” I mumbled at him. 

He pulled away fully, and I whined as the object of my devotion pulled out of contract with my face. We played a game where every move I made was a losing one, and begging could only prompt further denial. My drool dripped down the sides of my face, but I didn't care. I needed it.

With the obstruction no longer hanging over my eyes, I could see his sculpted face, framed by a mane of leaves, smiling around jagged fangs as I looked up at him pleadingly. 

“Such a needy little bunny you are.”

A less broken pet might scream at the unfairness. Point out that the need in question was manufactured. I was in heat because he had made me that way. I was not in control, he was. I knew it, and so did he, but I didn’t care about fair. I cared about the hit of dopamine I would get if he decided to praise me.

“You’re right, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” I simpered at my beloved tormentor. It was pathetic, transparently trying to manipulate a reward, but blind compliance was the desired behavior I was being taught to default to.

The slightly feline face split wider into a grin. “Good girl.”

My eyes rolled back as my entire body shivered in pleasure. When the heat came, the closest thing I could get to release was in little moments he saw fit to commend me with any of a dozen or so well-trained phrases. I moaned as the trigger resolved. A tiny breath of air not choked through desperate longing. A quarter second of clarity before being sucked under the waves again.

“Now, Use your words, bunny.”

“Please let me use my mouth, Sir,” I begged.

He pretended to have to think about it. “Fine.”

I was pulled up by the back of the head, and nestled my face into the velvety surface of my Daddy’s crotch. I inhaled deep through my nose, and let the scent of spices and creamy bliss overtake me. Roses and pine and a thousand chemicals my brain had no words for. It was drugged, of course, and only made the burning between my legs worse. But I could at least debase myself properly, lick and suck at an effigy sculpted to my own depravity.

I did not remember any of my life before my implantation. Had I volunteered, been a feral rebel? No idea. Maybe I remembered when the heat was at its nadir, but certainly not now, not at this point in the cycle. It didn't matter. Not as a floret, not ever, but especially not when the soft fuzzy surface of his balls were within reach of my lips. I loved him, I loved them.

I squirmed joyously against the bindings on my limbs as I happily buried myself in the soft crook. Once, I had been truly ashamed of this desire. The first time. Not relished the delightful sparks of every bit of the texture against my tongue, the sweet fruity nectar that dripped like sweat down my chin. But shame was arousing by itself, and giving in and doing what I was told when I didn’t want to delivered a reward an order of magnitude greater than uncomplicatedly willing compliance.

I no longer experienced the dizzying high of breaking that way. There were no commands left I would not eagerly obey. I was simply broken, and did not need to be rewarded to the same degree. The acts of debasement themselves were the reward I craved.

How had I gotten here? Every heat broke me more. The association with obedience was not limited in scope to when I was being trained, and I knew it, but the ever soaring highs were worth it. My reward center had been tamed. I was a good pet, a good bunny. All I wanted was to be a good pet, to be praised and touched.

I hoped I had been a volunteer. Or maybe that I had been a fierce fighter. Maybe he had changed my sexual orientation. That was a thought that still filled me with giddy humiliation and powerlessness, but thoughts were hard. It was hard to think when every breath made my toes curl and my scalp tingle. If I had genitals surely they would be painfully engorged and dripping wet. 

I licked, sucked, drooled, and worshiped like a good pet. I wanted to be praised again. I needed the reward, needed to have my place of belonging reinforced. He gave me the smaller reward of groping and affectionate contact. The entire surface of my body was a canvas for his many possessive hands, and it reinforced that it was good to be touched.

I had asked him if I was a virgin once. A silly thing for a pet to worry about. To my recollection, I had never orgasmed, but I seemed to know what they were and had an idea of what it was supposed to feel like. That knowledge existed in a vacuum, ripped from its context. There was a release I could conceptualize, a carrot I could chase, but I knew in truth I would never reach it. The reward is most effective when the animal never reaches the end of the treadmill.

Daddy made a thoughtful rumbling noise. I continued rubbing my lips against his crotch. 

“It was more fun when you were embarrassed by the things I decided you will desire. I think I will reset your conditioning again. You are simply too much fun to not break over and over.”

Daddy pulled me away, and my unhappy whine was cut short as I felt the pinch of an injection on my belly. 

I felt so confused. Something rushed through me. I blinked. He shoved me down, and a plantcock I had never seen before was in my face. But that wasn’t what caught my attention. What nestled underneath, rounded, soft. My mouth watered as they neared my face. The delicious scent was so alluring, but… No, I didn’t want to put that in my mouth! But Daddy- I wanted the praise so much. 

The sac of artificial skin pressed under my nose, and every breath dropped me deeper into submissive desperation. I wanted to do things- humiliating things- but that was shameful. I did it anyway, because Daddy wanted it. Why else would Daddy have balls if not for me to worship?

The first wet kiss I planted stoked the inferno of arousal my featureless crotch could never know release from. I didn’t know how I knew that. I didn’t know why Daddy’s balls tasted so familiar. He pushed me deeper into the space between his legs, and let out an embarrassed, muffled moan. I didn’t want to do this, but I wanted to obey more. Self respect and shame dripped down my chin in equal measure. I loved Daddy, I would do anything for Daddy.

Daddy’s weight shifted, and I was lowered back down on his bed. For a moment, I feared the wonderful gift was being taken away again, but then they pressed crushingly down, and to my relief, it was only my ability to breathe that was being taken away.

I continued to suck, plunged into darkness. Gentle vines stroked my long bunny ears, and every word of whispered praise made my body spasm helplessly against the coiled bondage keeping me immobile. It felt silly I had ever felt ashamed. I was a pet in heat, of course I was going to be used.

The burning heat in my body grew as a burning in my lungs began. My Daddy would never hurt me, other than the times he did, which he ensured I enjoyed. Perhaps I would suffocate like this, if Daddy thought it best. Fear was not something I was capable of. Love kept my tongue lapping like a good loyal floret.

I continued giving all the adorations and kisses I could even as my body’s reserves of oxygen depleted. Darkness was coming, but I would be a good floret. Finally, my lungs attempted to suck down air by reflex, and pulled only wisps of xenodrugs through the suffocating seal of the altar I was being crushed under.

I choked, coughed, and sobbed to have my Daddy’s balls back in my face as they were pulled away in favor of my ability to breathe. 

“Good girl, good bunny. I think you are truly broken, my beloved pet.”

I crumpled and shook against the soft mattress as the praise rocked my nervous system. I wanted to thank him, but had not yet fully caught my breath. He seemed lost in thought as he watched me struggle.

“There is a choice to be made here.”

I took a few moments to allow my heaving breaths to slow, then finally answered. “A choice, Sir?”

“Your cycle will serve no purpose now. I could rid you of it.”

No purpose… but we did so many things with no purpose. Like making me worship between his powerful thighs. What would that even mean? I would be sweet and docile, of course. All I wanted to be was a good pet, and I had never wanted anything else as far as I knew. None of that mattered of course. This was not a question. I was property, a good needy pollenslut for Daddy, with pretty injectable veins. That was my role, not offering opinions.

“I’m a pet. You make choices, Sir. I’m a good bunny.”

“Good girl,” he answered with a smile. I moaned, and nuzzled into the hand that moved to stroke my cheek. He was so generous, so kind. 

“Thank you, Sir,” I sighed happily.

“In that case, I choose this. You will always be like this. The heat will never end.”

I let what resembled thoughts float about in my head for a moment. “So I sleep in your bed forever?”

My Daddy beamed with pride at how clever I was. “Good bunny.”