Nothing Matters Anymore

Fran couldn't hold back a gasp as it probed her womanhood, even deeper than before. She bore the invasion without resentment. Instead, a deep, wanton, urge overcame her senses. She tried to touch herself in an attempt to relieve the pressure but the appendage made her put her hand back down. The feeling kept building, and she recognized it as something akin to what she had felt with Shawn. But this was stronger, much stronger, and almost frightening in its intensity. What was a river was instead a tidal wave battering on the shores of her soul. Melon Head used another appendage to entangle her breast. Fran arched her back in response.

"You are already a woman," he said as he explored the deepest part of her, almost touching her womb with his stalk as it penetrated her. "But you haven't been born yet. Until now." The voice of Melon Head echoed in her head as her eyes almost rolled up into the back of her head, the intense convulsions rolled through her abdomen like a form of peristalsis and she hung on an infinite precipice for an eternity. Something made her balk there, like the instinctive clutch of a trainee skydiver holding herself back from the plunge. The feeling was so intense that she could not tell if it was pain or pleasure and it did not relent, building up until she thought she would go insane.

"Let go," he suggested.

"How?" she panted through gritted teeth. She knew she was holding back, like the moment before vomiting, or the brink of tears, the tightening of the sphincter, or the small death at the culmination of sexual passion, and all the rest of those fundamental things indoctrinated into humans from childhood: the self-control that tamed them from the wild beasts they were into people ready to operate in society. All these things were trained, she realized, including her deep sense of shame and humiliation. And none of it mattered anymore. What was the point of holding on?

Fran let go.

She fell onto the altar, thrashing uncontrollably as the orgasm washed over her. And it didn't relent as it kept washing over her again and again until she was a sweaty ball of helpless flesh. Everything let go, all her orifices loosened at once, but it didn't matter. Fran was gone and all that was left in the super-cooled expanding cloud of stellar debris was the void. The pure nihilism of the moment engulfed her leaving only pure awareness, a pulsing nerve whose only purpose was to collect the stimulus of the cosmos like a radio telescope tuned to the echoes of the Big Bang.

She woke much later under the wheel of stars. She noted that the puke and detritus had been washed away, thankfully. Her eyes closed once more and it was morning. She knelt at the altar as the rising sun warmed her. Melon Head appeared, although she hadn't even noticed his absence. From some hidden crevice, he brought forth a hose-like tube that was more plant than manufactured. The water it emitted was cold but refreshing as he cleansed her once more, from head to toe. He made sure that every bit of her was rinsed clean, anointed by the fresh water. She gulped it down thirstily when he presented it to her mouth. There was an almost sexual tension to it but the moment was fleeting.

The ritual must have been a rite of passage. There had been no desire there. It was just a physical thing, a process of stimulus and response, hence she harbored no resentment or sense of violation any more than one could engender from scratching an itch or having a bowel movement. She had slept nude, yet felt no discomfort. In fact, she felt great.

She hadn't eaten but she didn't hunger. Melon Head offered a bit of the alien moss. She tasted it and realized it tasted like a kudzu burger. It filled her and she was satisfied.

She cocked her head and knew Melon Head would know what she asked even without speaking.

"You will stay here, until I return. Eat and drink as needed."

With that, he strode away on his stalks and disappeared into the green foliage without a trace.

She looked around, realizing that if she wandered too far she would probably never find her way back to this spot again. The meadow was roughly circular and the tall trees blocked the view of any surrounding landmarks. The stone altar was the only object of note. She scraped more moss from the rocks and sampled it. Again, it was edible although not particularly flavorful without seasonings. The hose gave her water, so she could live for a while.

A day and a night passed and Melon Head did not return. She walked the edges of the meadow, looking for any clues but there was nothing of worth noting. She used her hands to dig a makeshift latrine so she could do her business at the edge of the open area. She missed having soap. If she was at risk of being sick, she felt that she would have caught something already, exposed as she was. At night, she slept on the bare stone, but somehow it didn't suck the heat from her and she found that she was always well rested despite the primitive conditions.

More days and nights passed without a sign from Melon Head. She gradually forgot what it was like to wear clothes. Maybe she was Eve returned to the Garden, she thought. Growing restless, she dared to go further into the alien forest, breaking off stems or using a rock to mark the bark of the trees to guide her back. They were similar to white poplars and their sinewy curves had the suggestion of pale skin. She playfully imagined the fiction that they were other girls before her who had become planted there so she subconsciously tried not to score them too deeply.

After a while, she became familiar enough with the shape of the terrain to be able to eventually find the way back to the meadow without being lost.

One day, to her delight, she found a small lake and instinctively dove in. The water was cool but not cold. There were small fish but nothing dangerous. She hadn't seen any large animals beyond birds and rodents, although sometimes she imagined the snarl of a wild cat or the cough of a coyote. Whatever large fauna that may have reclaimed the forest seemed to keep a good distance. Although the smaller creatures did not seem to fear her, neither did they have any interest in her.

None volunteered to become her friend although she did nurse a wounded chipmunk (or what she called that despite the fact that it only vaguely resembled one) for a couple days until it healed enough to return to the wild on its own.

Her wonder at being alive alleviated any feelings of loneliness, although if company were to arrive she probably would have appreciated it. Maybe it was Eden after all...but, an Adam would be nice. A bit of itch would start down there and she'd rub it away with her hand though she sensed that her sexual appetite could grow much greater, if she wished. All her nerves tingled at every sensation, and every taste or smell, vibrant and unique. Eventually, she amused herself by rubbing her crotch against a suitable tree, shamelessly mating with it even to the point of giving it a name.

"Hi, Wilson," she patted her best tree friend with its crooked trunk that made it a convenient mount. She lost count of the number of times she humped it in the course of the weeks.

Further out, she discovered an abandoned shed. Sleeping under the stars had been all right, but fall had begun settling in and the days were getting shorter so she figured some sort of shelter would be required. After clearing it out, she filled the bare floor with dried foliage for a bed and made a cache of moss and edible nuts and berries and such she had managed to discover with trial and error. If any were poisonous, it hadn't killed her yet. The prospect of death didn't have the angst it once did.

The weather changed, becoming grey with occasional storms, so she stayed inside the shed for much of the time. The cold rain was uncomfortable but somehow she never became hypothermic. Maybe Melon Head had changed her somehow. After a while she realized she'd forgotten how to get back to the meadow, but it didn't really worry her. She could live off the land as the moss was abundant and apparently had all the vitamins and nutrients one needed to survive. Through winter, she slept for the most part, almost like a hibernating bear, and swifter than she expected, spring came once more. She almost wished to have seen snow, but except for a few nights of frost and sleety rain the region never had any snowfall. Maybe she'd travel north someday to the places where the old books said there was a lot of it, but then again maybe it was something else that was lost after the Melon Heads arrived. She'd never actually appreciated snow in person, only seeing photos and some videos of it.

It seemed Melon Head was never going to come back for her, so in the spring she decided to explore further. She gave Wilson a farewell rub and circled out into the wilderness. Without landmarks it was easy to accidentally backtrack but she managed to use her enhanced senses to guide her to a different patch of forest, climbing into hillier terrain. She would camp in the hollows of trees and subsist off whatever she could forage on the way, since she had no tools or ways to carry supplies. Eventually, she finally met a trail. It led to what appeared to be an old logging camp, ruined like everything else in the land. She cut herself on something sharp in the ground, applying a crude poultice of mud and moss to the wound. After a while, it mended on its own so she had no idea if the concoction did any good but it had felt soothing.

Not far down the trail, she found her first sign of human life in months. She followed the smell of smoke until she discovered a small encampment. No one was there, but it had been used recently. The tent was new, as well as the tools and gear. Someone was out here!

She no longer had a sense of propriety so she rummaged through the person's belongings out of curiosity. To her delight, she found something wonderful: soap! And shampoo, something she'd missed for ages. In fact, there was a complete grooming kit. She grabbed it and went looking for a freshwater pond she knew was nearby. Delighted, she bathed for the first time in an eon, and hummed happily as she combed out the kinks in her hair. She trimmed down the wild hairs and used the razor to tame the wild bush down below as well as her arms and legs. There was even a small hand mirror in the travel bag so she could check herself out.

Surprisingly, despite the months of neglect, her hair was wild but not as terrible as she'd imagined. Her face was clear despite the lack of skincare, although she had been fortunate to avoid much acne during her growth spurt when she was younger. Her cheeks had a healthy glow but she still wished for something fancier than the unscented hand lotion she found in the kit.

Even a wild Eve should be presentable, she thought.

She didn't think about to whom she was taking the bother on presenting herself, but in the moment she didn't care to think too deeply about the nuances. A sudden snapping sound startled her. She lifted her head to see a man at the edge of the woods. He had a full beard and appeared to be dressed as a woodcutter.

She coughed to clear her throat and said, "Hello." It sounded strange to her ears after months of isolation.

He didn't seem phased by her appearance. Instead, he pointed, "I think you have something of mine."

She looked down at the travel kit and blushed, "Oh, I'm sorry. This is yours." She packed it up quickly and jumped up to return the items.

Instead of taking back the bag, he waved at her to follow along, "Come back to camp. I have some food, looks like you can use a good meal."

The mention of a meal instantly got her mouth to salivate. Something else she'd forgotten to miss!

Back at his camp, he had a portable stove and canned food that he heated up before serving to her on a spare metal plate. Using a small fork, she shoveled the steaming vittles right into her mouth ignoring the burning sensation. She was so engrossed in the food that she didn't notice that he was checking her out. "This is so good! Amazing." It was just beans and vegetables but to her it was a gourmet dinner. As she ate, he took a brush and sorted out her hair a bit, tying the jumbled locks back with a bit of cord.

Satisfied, she burped and leaned back as he took the utensils back. Casually, he leaned forward to weigh her breast with one hand. He stated, as if her ample tit had imparted some datum to him, "You're one of Melon Heads."

She nodded, "I've been looking for him. Is he around? He ditched me in the woods last fall and never picked me up."

The woodcutter sat back on his haunches, seemingly satisfied, "He does that. Comes and goes as he pleases. You're the third one I've met out here these past couple summers though I don't recall any of them ever living alone for more than a few weeks. You've been here half a year? Incredible. You must be..."

She leapt up, pushing him over so that she straddled him. "Horny as hell? Yes." His smell had intoxicated her as much as the food. Now that one hunger was sated, another reared its head. She reached down, undid his pants and found his member. There was no foreplay necessary as she was slick enough to take him almost immediately. He lay back and enjoyed the ride until she was satisfied. She lay on his chest, panting, with his cock still inside of her.

"I really needed that. Sorry to jump you."

He chuckled, "I expected it. Melon Head girls are all like that, though I guess you're freshly minted."

"You're not finished yet," she announced. Somehow, he hadn't ejaculated yet despite her efforts. This was a surprise as Shawn hadn't been like that at all. She was shocked by the sudden memory as it flooded back. She'd totally forgotten about him all this time. And her parents must be looking for her, she thought. But the townspeople had seen Melon Head take her, so they'd have heard. Everyone knew it was a possibility, and sometimes the people he took didn't come back for years. She didn't want to think about it, so she shuffled down to the woodcutter's crotch. The smell, a mixture of her juices and his unwashed junk, was overwhelming but somehow it didn't stop her. It tasted of salt and grit and undefinable mysteries and it was good enough for her to devour. His dick stiffened as she moved her mouth up and down, tongue curling around his shaft and frenulum as she deemed worthy. His dick tasted her mouth as she tasted it in all its pungent glory, and when he finally erupted, she tasted every drop of his cum as it made its fruitless journey down her throat to be digested.

"Not the home you were looking for boys," she giggled, kissing the tip of his penis.

He ruffled her hair and guffawed. They fucked a couple more times until night fell. It was good to be warm as she shared his bedroll. During the night, it was a little too hot against him so she ended up half sprawled out from under the blanket.

The next morning she awoke to breakfast being cooked. He hummed as he turned over some eggs, "Melon Head lets us take a bit as long as we're not too greedy. He's given me charter to farm this piece of woods for food and fuel. I'm not done yet, but I'll take you into town after breakfast."

"Are those real?" her eyes were wide. Melon Head never allowed animal products before. She was confused but didn't reject the meal. It was amazing, although she balked at first at the texture.

"It's not real bacon, but try this bit of game I fixed up. There's no belly fat in it, it's just salted meat and crisped up a bit." He gave her a piece of crispy fake bacon.

"This is unreal!" she exclaimed with tears in her eyes. She'd never had anything like it.

After he packed up, folded down the tent, and cleaned up the campsite, he handed her a blanket. She stared at it, wondering what he expected her to use it for. He chuckled and took it back, "I should have known better."

His truck was parked further down the trail next to a gravel access road. Its tiny cab could barely fit two and it had no doors and the bed had a tarp covering the supplies he'd gathered on his trip. He was chatting as he secured the load and had her climb into the passenger seat, "He gets angry if I trap too much. He's like a guardian spirit of the forest, and I guess he takes people as sacrifices of a sort in exchange for his protection. Well, I guess it's better than the old myths, they actually killed people back then, and no Melon Heads to even appreciate it, did you know? I read that in a book a while back."

"I've heard that too, but honestly, I have no idea why he needed me at all. He just left me alone all this time," she absently scratched her crotch.

"Really? You don't feel any different?"

"Well, I got cut once and it healed up all on its own. I don't know, things seem to smell and taste a little different. Better," she frowned. "Something happened that first night but I can't really remember exactly."

"And being naked in town won't bother you?" He asked pointedly as he started up the truck. The motor let out a belch of smoke and the noise made her remember something else nostalgic. She shook her head, "Not really. I mean if people stare I guess I'd be embarrassed. Don't really need all the weight on me, is all. I mean, clothes are heavy, and they get hot. How can your skin breath with all that on you?"

He laughed with that full throat bellow of his, "It may be spring but there was frost last night, girl. I'm surprised your toes haven't fallen off, but you appear fine. The others were just the same. Weird shit."

"Don't call it weird, it's just natural!" she pouted. "Hey, does that mean you fucked them too? Lucky you, I'm jealous." He ignored her as he sprung the machine into gear. The gravel road led to a paved one although barely more passable, its asphalt riddled with potholes that the woodcutter had to weave around to avoid.

Before long the woodcutter spotted something ahead, "Speak of the devil! There he is right now. First time I've seen him since last year too. He must have come back to look for you after all." He pulled to a stop and hopped out. She instantly knew something was different about Melon Head. For one thing, it was wearing a straw hat. Somehow, she instantly realized that although identical in all other ways, this Melon Head was not her Melon Head at all.

The Melon Head ignored the woodcutter, brushing him aside as it approached the girl. She stood before it as it did its examination. Unlike her Melon Head, this one just briefly tapped her in a few spots and seemed satisfied.

It announced, "What are you doing here without a pass? How did you get past the barrier?"

She just stared at the new Melon Head, dumbfounded.

After some interrogation, she explained her story to the Melon Head. The woodcutter was dismissed and he turned back to go back to the forest to finish his work. She realized that neither of them had exchanged names but she hoped she'd bump into him again in town. The Melon Head beckoned her to follow. It said, "Very unusual and irregular. But, I see that you have been trained. I can use you so you will stay in my province."

"Use me? For what?" she asked, but it didn't reply. It would become obvious quite soon. It was clear this town was much larger than hers. "Wow, this is big!"

After the long walk, the Melon Head finally remarked, "This is only a minor settlement. You will be taken the rest of the way by humans. I shall go no further. It is too noisy for me."

"But someone already was taking me!"

"He has use for me in the forest, do not ask any more questions." The Melon Head approached some men who were sitting around fire contained within a large barrel which they were using to cook skewers. "This girl shall be taken to the city. You may use her as you wish as payment."