Olimar and The Plasm Wraith
Olimar woke abruptly. He was breathing hard, and soon enough he roused the creature sleeping next to him. It lifted its head slowly and turned to look at him with that gaping hole that he'd dubbed to be its eye. It stared for the longest time, and he stared back, unflinching, to see what it would do. He'd tried to leave last night. One moment, he was heading down the path; the next everything had gone black. He didn't remember much, but he was pretty sure the beast had something to do with it.
It used to be friendly to him. It would bring him food, water, gifts, things like that. It hugged him and cuddled him and protected him from the few monsters that lived in the tree, and he started to forget what he'd gone there for. He forgot Louie, the mission, his family. In the weeks he stayed there, the creature had subdued him to almost a vegetative state.
Louie and Olimar stepped out into a clearing. Olimar was excited about this place–no enemies meant no injuries. Of course, Louie was less enthusiastic. He whined and groaned that he was hungry all the way there, but he declined to try any of the plants laying about. He was getting on Olimar's last nerve.
"Look! Maybe there's food in that tree!" Olimar urged, pointing at a hollowed old stump with a path twisting up the side. Truthfully, he could care less about the food. All he wanted was to investigate the glittering object he saw at the top. Louie rolled his eyes.
"Even I know dead trees don't have food."
They approached the base. Olimar noticed Louie flinch as a gust of air billowed down the path.
"I-I really am hungry. You can..uh, check this out and I'll go look for food."
Olimar gave him a look.
"You promise you'll save some this time?"
"Promise. And Olimar?"
Olimar paused, having already taken a few steps.
"Yeah?"
Louie looked at him uneasily.
"Just..b-be careful.."
Before Olimar had time to be surprised by his concern, he'd scurried off in the direction of the forest, not looking back once. Olimar shook his head.
"That Louie is quite the puzzle," he remarked. He straightened his back and began to march up the tree.
One night, Olimar woke with a start. The inside of his suit felt slimy and wet. He looked down, and gasped.
The creature was feeding its body through the tiny slit in his whistle, dripping itself in liquid form into his suit. He screamed and pawed at the fabric, trying to push it back out. It felt warm–as any living organism would–and strange against his bare skin, and it was getting everywhere. He gasped and kicked blindly as the warm goo seeped into his underwear and onto his penis. Soon enough it had enveloped his entire length with a strange, gold liquid, and it surrounded him on all sides.
Olimar stared up at the creature with wide eyes. He'd fallen asleep in the small clearing at the very top of the tree and woke up to find something looming over him. At first he thought he was dreaming–this living thing wasn't made of gold, was it? He reached out to touch it, and it shrunk back from his hand.
Immediately, he felt a pang of pity. This gentle creature kinda reminded him of the Pikmin.
"It's alright," he murmured, sitting up carefully. "I'm not gonna hurt you."
It slowly drew nearer, daring to press it's oddly-shape head against his hand. He stroked it. It was strange–gooey and yet sparkling with brilliance. Each stroke moved its skin around, but then it re-formed itself again. The creature let out a quiet noise–almost like a purr, and pushed its body up against his side. He smiled fondly at it.
"I think I've found myself a new companion."
Olimar got up and started to run. Instead of reacting like it usually would, the monster let him go. But just as he was about to disappear into the tree, it started humming. The hum seemed to do something to the part of it that was still inside his suit. It started to vibrate.
His knees grew weak, and he tried in vain to crawl away, but the matter surrounding his private areas proved too effective against him. He collapsed onto the ground, panting.
"W-Why are y-you..doing this..?" he stuttered.
That was the first time he'd ever heard it talk. It was speaking directly into his mind, and its voice was scary and high-pitched.
'Don't you understand? I love you, and I don't ever want you to leave me. If that involves treating you like this–then so be it.'
Olimar talked with it all day. It never responded, but he'd always felt like it understood. He talked about Louie's incompetence, how much he hated his ship, and his family. He always noticed that when he talked about his wife, the creature would bunch itself up. At first he thought nothing of it, but later he discovered that it was jealousy. After a while, it actually became angry with him. That's when he realized it was hostile and possessive, but by then it was already too late.
The creature stepped forward with its remaining mass and enveloped him in its stomach, as if trying to simulate a child in a mother's womb. It was beyond creepy. He lashed out with his limbs to no avail as the creature just morphed to accommodate his motions.
'Settle down,' it cooed. 'I'll make you feel better.'
Without warning, the creature shrunk itself down, increasing pressure on Olimar–most notably his privates–and heightened the frequency of the vibrations.
"Ohhhhh..hah.."
His resistance quickly ceased. The space around his cock tightened like a muscle, making the vibrations even more prominent and he threw his head back involuntarily, hitting it on the back of his glass helmet.
"Aah!"
It chuckled.
'Does that feel good?'
He whimpered, shaking his head frantically.
'Ha! You can't lie to me! I'm in your head, I know exactly what you want and where. Don't try to fight me.'
Olimar's cheeks turned scarlet. If it knew that, then...
It snaked a tendril up to his collar.
'Yes, I know about that~,' it sing-songed. He shivered, but more out of anticipation than anything, as the tendril put an immense amount of pressure on his neck. Slowly, it tightened its grip and resumed the vibrations once more, this time with harsh tremors throughout the liquid that made Olimar try desperately to hold onto something, but the substance around him slipped through his fingers. Finding no outlet to his pleasure, he arched his back and balled up his fists, letting out a pathetic sound.
"S-Stop..!"
'Why? I know a creature like yourself cannot resist stimulation. It's in your nature to want to feel good.'
Olimar choked on his next response as the vibrations intensified at an unbearable rate. He moaned loudly, tossing his head back and forth.
"A-aaah! Haah.."
The monster chuckled again, this time more devilishly,
'Do you want it? Tell me, you filthy creature!'
"I..I..nn–ah!"
The grip on his neck tightened. His face turned completely red and his breathing became even more labored.
"Y-Yes! Please just finish it!" He cried, bucking his hips impatiently.
'Hmm..very well.'
That glorious vibration returned, and this time, Olimar couldn't help but push himself into it.
With a cry and a shudder, he came, and the liquid withdrew, taking the mess with it. Then he was gently deposited onto the ground, and once the creature had gotten itself back together, he noticed that his semen was on it. He quickly realized what exactly had just happened, and scrambled away. But exhausted as he was, he didn't get very far.
'Wasn't that fun?'
He attempted to catch his breath and glared at the creature.
I've decided to name it. I shall call it a "Plasm Wraith", because of its thin, fluid body. Though, I think I should come up with a more personal name for this one, at some point. This creature has been a friend to me–it deserves a name. It will come in time–I need to learn more about it before I can give it a fitting title.
'You wanted to name me. But I've always preferred to be called "master". What do you think? It has a nice ring to it, does it not?'
Olimar turned to look somewhere else. He could already tell this creature was playing games with his mind, trying to get him to submit–in this case, sexually–so that he would have no choice but to stay. He grimaced. He did not like the idea of being a pet.
'What's wrong, Olimar? I thought you liked to be treated badly.'
He lifted his head.
"Those thoughts were private!" he snarled. "That was something nobody was to know!"
'Even your wife?'
He flinched. No, of course he'd never told her about that. She was a vanilla type of woman, she'd probably faint if she knew her husband was some kind of pervert.
'Ah, so she doesn't know, then. I'm glad...'
The Plasm Wraith turned to leave.
'I can rest in comfort knowing I've given you something you wanted that no one else ever could. Really, you should be thanking me.'
Olimar didn't respond. It was true, that was the most erotic experience of his life. For a while, he was tempted to let it have its way, to take him and hurt him so good he'd never want to leave.
He would've stopped himself there, but he couldn't.
Collars and chains and gags...
Nightly whippings, insults spat at him so hatefully he'd cry.
Things–anything, really–pushed inside him, making him scream and beg for something smaller, but to no avail.
There's something about the Plasm Wraith. I can feel it..watching me..but not on the outside. It feels as if its staring right into my soul. Isn't that silly?
He clenched his fists, shaking with anger.
There was no way. He wouldn't let this thing take control of him. He needed to find a way out. He'd keep trying to escape, no matter what.
