You squeal as the slime squelches into you, the vine twisting and shaking as the sludge spreads. Tiny leaves sprout across your back as you squirm, more growing amidst your limbs. You try to rip them off, the goo instead turning its sticky attention to your hands and trapping them against your legs.
It doesn’t matter how much you try to pull them free, the slime simply continues to spread across your flesh, sinking into you. The vine seems to almost act akin to a tail, yet holds you up at the same time. You can’t see much of anything, the goop sticking to your hair and covering your face as you cry for help that isn’t coming.
You can barely feel your body as it seems to melt, turning to something you could almost call plant-like, leaves and branches twisting across what was once skin. Your cries turn to squeals as your face lengthens and splits like a budding flower, the vine finally splitting away and leaving you with a long prehensile tail. You pant, trying to come to terms with your new body, which you admit, isn’t so bad looking.
It'll just be an adjustment.