World Travelers Ch 06

All participants in sexual activity have been on their respective planets for at least eighteen years.

World Travelers

Chapter 6

Melody Sundown

I searched my next morning's "gift clearing" and, not finding an apple tree, latched on to one of the green and yellow banana looking things, and soon found myself suspended three feet above the ground, in a face down prone position, supported by thick vines around my upper arms, lower chest (just below my boobs), hips, thighs, and ankles.

"Do you like this position?" the Jungle asked.

'I thought I had to eat an apple to hear you.'

I answered.

"No," the Jungle said with a chuckle. "Once you've tasted the fruit of knowledge, your mind is forever opened to me."

'Then why didn't you talk to me last night?'

"Do you expect us to communicate every time you receive the gift?"

'Yes. In my world, it is customary for people to converse when enjoying a meal together... or when just enjoying being together.'

"Do you get pleasure from what I do to you?"

'At first it scared the crap out of me. But now that I'm accustomed to getting your gift, I admit that it makes my body feel good.'

"Pleasing your body is easy. I've been pleasuring the Panternians' bodies for thousands of circuits and yours is remarkably similar to theirs. But your intellect is a different story. Yours reminds me of the original race of bipeds that roamed my paths, full of questions, doubts, and fear. All things I have successfully removed from my current residents."

'You are right. I do have questions. Thousands of questions. But first, I will answer yours. No. I do not particularly like this position. I would be more comfortable laying on my back on the ground.'

As soon as I spoke the words, the vines lowered me gently to the moss-covered surface and rolled me onto my back. Acting like either a willing lover or a well-trained prostitute, I spread my legs and raised my arms above my head, giving the vines, tendrils, and flowers unfettered access to my needy body. As the Jungle did its version of fauna foreplay, using its different appendages to tease my peaks into points of lust and my valley into a wet swamp of desire, I contemplated how to best start the intellectual part of our discussion.

'Where are the men?'

I asked as the cock vine easily slid into place.

"They are in a different part of the Jungle."

'Why do you keep the men and women separated?'

Being able to ask a question while the feeding vine slipped into my mouth and down my throat seemed odd but extremely convenient.

"I didn't at first, but a few hundred circuits after the Panternians returned to me, it was obvious that both genders behaved better when they weren't constantly fighting for the affections of a member of the opposite sex. Keeping them apart represses the natural instinct of dominance in the males and possessiveness in the females."

As much as I wanted to debate the presumption that women were overly jealous, the wet green firehose-vacuum cleaner sneaking up my ass convinced me to stay on task.

'I guess I can see how keeping the men and women separate would make your life easier, but you also mentioned that Panternian biology is similar to mine. If the men and women don't intermingle, where do Panternian babies come from?'

"I grow them."

By this time in the conversation, my ass was off the ground, bucking up against the downward thrusts of the slick thick cock vine. My boobs were squirting torrents of milk down the ravenous throats of the two nipple sucking flowers. My lips, tongue, and throat were milking the last remnants of nourishing Jungle cum from the feeding vine, and my bowels felt like they were going to burst from the volume of liquid shot up my ass.

Despite this overload of stimulus, I could have sworn the Jungle claimed it could "grow" Panternian babies.

It took me a while to physically recover from my "gift" and mentally assimilate what I thought I'd heard.

'How in hell can a plant make a mammal?'

I finally asked.

"If you're asking about the fertilization process, the answer should be readily apparent. I collect sperm from a male's penis and inject it into a woman's vagina. Bees, birds, and butterflies have been aiding the fertilization process of flowers since the beginning of time. There is no reason why a plant can't do the same thing for animals."

'The stuff you've been squirting up my pussy twice a day is Panternian cum?'

"If 'cum' is your slang term for male sperm then, yes."

But Panternian women don't get pregnant,

I thought to myself.

And the Jungle said, "I grow babies".

Holy shit. That can't be true. But what else could it be?

Redirecting my thoughts at the Jungle I said,

'A week or so ago, when I thought I might be ovulating, I felt something reach deep inside me. Past my cervix, into my womb, and beyond. Was that you?'

"Most likely."

'Did you steal my fertilized egg?'

"It is impossible to steal what is already mine. I am the Jungle. Every living thing within my boundaries is my responsibility. Removing fertilized eggs from Panternian women protects both the woman and her species. I am sparing her the pain and danger of childbirth while assuring the survival of her genus.

'What happens next. After you force fertilized me and then stole my unborn child. How does it turn into a baby?'

"Rather than answer your question now, I think it is best to show you."

With those final words, the vines released their grip on me, and a path opened on the far side of the clearing. Having no other choice, I recovered my dress and walked onto the moss-covered trail.

Unlike my previous paths, which were usually less than a city block long, this one seemed closer to a mile. And, when it opened up into a clearing, instead of seeing Lica and the other women of my group, I was confronted by a slightly older Panternian woman who didn't seem all that happy to see me.

"You're not a Panternian," the woman said. "Where is my helper?"

"I'm a human. I come from a different planet."

"I don't give a shit what you are and where you come from, what have you done with my assistant?"

"I don't know anything about your aide. I followed my path, and it led me here."

"The Jungle sent you? Maybe you're my new assistant?"

"It didn't say anything about me being an assistant..."

"The Jungle spoke to you?"

"Yes. Sort of. I was getting my morning gift and I asked where babies came from -"

"You know about babies?" the woman asked, interrupting me.

"I've never had one myself, but -"

"Have you ever seen a baby before?"

"Well, yes, I have. Not often, but I've interacted with an infant before, although not without help from its mother. I'm certainly not an expert."

"I have no idea what a mother is, but if you've actually held a baby before today, then you know a lot more than I did when I first got here.

"Follow me," she said and took off at a fast walk towards a larger part of the clearing.

We wove through a stand of trees of a type I'd never seen before, not even in the Jungle. They were relatively short, maybe eight to ten feet in height, with large substantial branches holding what appeared to be a large fruit encircled by broad leaves. Surprisingly, the air temperature inside the grove felt a good ten degrees warmer than it was in the rest of the Jungle. As much as I wanted to stop and investigate, I continued to follow the anxious Panternian woman towards whatever she thought so important.

As we traversed the small woods, I detected a noise I hadn't heard in years. The sound of a baby crying. Not the irritating screech of a spoiled kid in a mall, but the sweet, almost endearing cry of a newborn infant.

Approaching one of the fruit laden trees, the woman stopped and pointed at a particular piece of fruit.

"That one is yours," she said and then turned to walk away.

I had no idea what she meant until I got within a few feet of the tree. The bottom layer of leaves surrounding the designated piece of fruit had drawn back to reveal the remnants of a purplish skin. I say "remnants" because a tiny green head extended from a hole in the bottom of the purple fruit and, as I watched, a set of shoulders enlarged the hole.

Oh my God. I'm watching the birth of a Panternian baby.

I instinctively reached out for the child and, with the help of gravity and a small tug from me, a wet, slimy, green skinned baby girl slid out of the fruit and into my arms. Knowing enough to support her head, I nestled her against my bosom, and, within seconds, her cry gave way to a satisfied slurping sound as she found my breast.

What happened next was instructive but kind of gross. All of the Panternian women had belly buttons, just like mine, but green. Which meant they had an umbilical cord when they were born. So, I shouldn't have been surprised when, as the green skinned little boob sucker enjoyed her first meal, the remainder of her umbilical cord, what might have been a placenta, and a torrent of other disgusting stuff poured out of the ruptured purple fruit and soaked me from my tummy down to my toes. I reeked of Panternian after birth.

It wasn't red, wasn't blood. More of a greenish brown mixture of "the Jungle only knows" what. But when the furry, half cat, half squirrel thing (the Panternians called it a coblaush), came up to me and started chowing down, I damn near lost it.

"It's okay. That's normal." Four additional Panternian women came rushing over to me, all of them with a baby in their arms.

"This is the way of the Jungle. Once the coblaush eats the cord, we'll take you to a place where you can wash yourself and the baby."

Sure enough, the sharp toothed animal chewed through the umbilical cord a couple of inches above the baby's belly button and then dragged the rest of the cord, and all the nauseating crap that was attached, behind a tree.

The "cleansing pool", as my four new Panternian friends called it, went from a foot deep at its edges to about three feet in the middle. About the size of a baby pool, the oval pond seemed to have a slight current... fed from a warm stream at one end and emptying over a small lip into another stream at the far end.

At the ladies' suggestion, I removed my contaminated dress before entering the pool and soon found myself sitting cross-legged on the soft sandy bottom with the now-sated baby sleeping in my arms. A constant flow of bubbles rose through the "bathtub temperature" water which had a soothing effect on both me and my ward.

After satisfactorily answering the standard "why do you have white skin, brown hair, and teeth" questions, the four other ladies joined me in the pool and, after a while, the first woman I met in the "birthing grove" also joined us with her new baby.

I spent several days in the birthing grove. I fed the baby when it cried, washed it (and myself) when it pooped or peed, and slept when it slept. It was a woman's worst nightmare, tending to a newborn without the aid of a father, nanny, or diapers. My Panternian life of leisure was no more, a sentiment I shared with the other five women.

The only breaks we got were our abbreviated morning and evening gifts from the Jungle. I say abbreviated because all we got was the butt cleansing and feeding vines. The boob sucking flowers were replaced by the babies and, for some unknown reason, the Jungle didn't think we needed our pussies pleased while tending to children.

But I didn't care. About any of it. Because, for the first time since I was mystically transported to Panternia, I was doing something useful. I had a purpose.

Surprisingly, even though she had green skin, I was getting attached to my baby. Not "throw myself in front of a bus to protect her" attached. That kind of instantaneous love was reserved for a child you carried in your womb for nine months, or so I'm told. But even though I long ago vowed to never reproduce, when the little critter woke me in the middle of the night wanting to be fed, and then pooped on my tummy in thanks, I didn't throw her against the nearest tree. Instead, some long suppressed vestige of maternal instinct kicked in and I discovered an ironic sense of accomplishment each time she fell asleep in my arms.

Which was why, during my morning gift on the third or fourth day, the Jungle really pissed me off.

I should have been suspicious when, instead of handing my little green girl over to one of the other five women when my path opened up, a sixth woman took her from me. Thinking I would be back in half an hour, I didn't question why a new girl was holding my sleeping baby, I just hoped she wouldn't wake her before I returned.

Unlike the previous few days, this gift was the full Monty. Cock vine, clit licker, anal probe, boob suckers, and throat stretcher. I came... not two minutes after the hard green willy brushed up against my g-spot on its way to knock on my cervix door. And again, when it spurted a cocktail of Panternian sperm, most likely mixed with some sort of herbal aphrodisiac, into my lonely human womb. But two (maybe three) high quality orgasms weren't the reason for my anger. It was my subsequent conversation with the Jungle that raised the ire of my still throbbing body.

"Do you understand? Have you figured out how Panternian babies are made?" the Jungle asked.

'I do,'

I answered.

'You take a woman's fertilized egg, put it in a plant-based incubator, and, when it is fully formed, hand the child off to a surrogate mother. I'm not sure how you replicated the umbilical cord and placenta, and don't want to consider how many times you failed before perfecting your morally repulsive process. But yes, I understand.'

"Was that not your goal? To learn how a plant-based organism could grow an animal?"

'Yes, that was my request to you.'

"Then why are you not satisfied? Why do you express discontent towards me?"

'The proper word is anger. But before I explain why I am angry with you, let me ask a question. When I leave this clearing, will I go back to my baby, or will you lead me somewhere else?'

"The child you nourished for the last few days is not yours. Its seed did not come from your body, you have never met the man who provided the fertilizing sperm. And yes, when our conversation is complete, I will lead you away from the child and you will never see her again."

'Thank you for that truthful answer. Now let me explain why it pisses me off to no end. On my home planet, a place called Earth, our entire existence is based on a concept known as love. Don't ask me to define it, women and men much more intelligent than I have tried and failed. But the basic principle of love is the willingness to put another person's needs above your own.'

"Does this concept of love extend to other animals or only to your own species?"

'This isn't my field of study, but I can confidently say it is prevalent in most animals, especially those with higher intelligence. And, to answer your next question, I have never seen any evidence of love in the plant world. I'm sorry if that offends you.'

"There is no need to apologize. I too have never experienced love or have seen it exhibited amongst other faunas. However, long ago, I observed what love can do. The early Panternians were full of it, so much so, I suggested they leave the Jungle."

'You kicked them out because they loved each other?'

"No, I suggested they leave so they could continue with their way of life while I followed my own path."

'Can I assume you think your way is better than mine?'

"Before I answer, let's explore this 'love' thing a bit further. I sense you are 'angry' with me because I intend to separate you from the child. For some reason, you have developed an emotional attachment to this seedling and feel protective of it. Do you have a similar attachment with all of your species or is it only with a select few?"

'As much as I would like to claim otherwise, I admit that most human love is only for their immediate family... their children, parents, and spouse. The philosophers will say otherwise, but it is common knowledge in the scientific community that 'protective love' helps a species survive and flourish. Animals who protect their family tend to do better than those who don't.'

"Can I assume that 'love' often pits one species against the other, or even families of the same species against one another?"

'Yes, that would be a fair assumption.'

"That is why I asked the early Panternians to leave and why I do everything in my power to protect my current Panternians from undue emotional attachments."

'So, you admit you're doing it on purpose. You are actively discouraging love. That's why you keep the men and women separate. That's why you continuously shuffle the women into different groups. And that's why you're taking me away from my baby.'

"When the Panternians lived outside of my jungle, they were constantly fighting... each other and the animals around them. That all stopped when they returned to me. It took several generations, but they now live in peace and harmony with each other and their habitat. My Panternians have not killed any living thing for several thousand circuits. Can you say the same for your humans?"

The Jungle didn't wait for an answer to the rhetorical question. It withdrew its vines from my body, removed the tendrils from my skull, and opened up a path which led away from the birthing grove.

My path led to a pool surrounded by shampoo dispensing plants and full of hair washing eels. Five other women stood by the pool and, after I assured them that I was one of them (sort of), we all climbed into the water. As the eels washed baby puke out of my hair, I reflected on the five pink haired women who shared the pool and soothing experience with me.

Despite looking like an alien, this group of women, plus all the other Panternians I had met, were astonishingly quick to accept me into their group. One mention of "the Jungle sent me" negated any suspicions they might have. Their trust of, and dependence on, this god like entity, seemed to be an integral part of their DNA.

Imagine if I returned from Mars to Earth with a little green man at my side. Claiming that either God or the Government sent him would not satisfy the curiosity of most humans.

According to the senior member of my new "group of six", what happened next was the Jungle's reward after a woman spent twenty or so days on baby feeding duty. We went from the hair washing eel pool, to the hair munching minnow pond, and then to the dress making spider clearing.

The final result was a completely refreshed body wearing a new dress.

That night's gift was nothing special. I got fucked, fed, flushed, and drained. Sure, I enjoyed it, especially the 'drained' part. After feeding the kid for a few days, my milk production went on steroids, and I overflowed the flowers sucking capacity and sprayed milk all over myself. But I still had more questions and the Jungle remained silent.

That evening, when I lied naked with five complete strangers, I understood why the Panternian women were so eager to accept me. This was their life. A new set of bedmates every twenty days. They didn't have time to develop true friendships, no time to learn the likes and dislikes of their temporary traveling companions. In their minds, every woman was the same. And, since they still had an innate need for skin-on-skin intimacy, they grabbed the nearest boob, ass, or pussy, and cuddled like a child would a teddy bear... until they fell asleep.