Planet CMNF Ch. 02

Jane Talbot, an anthropologist from Earth, has disguised herself as a fem named "Pip" so she can observe Tyrian culture up close. Because of a genetic quirk, women on Tyr are little more than mindless animals under the complete control of their male sires. Stripped naked and collared, Jane sets off with her escort Varsenne to visit a nearby city.

Varsenne opened the garden gate. He stepped through, and Jane followed on her leash.

A carriage was waiting just outside. It was driven by a hulking Tyrian male in the livery of the underclass. He nodded toward Varsenne.

"Evening, professor,"

"I need to go to Avalonde. Can you take me that far?"

"I'll have to charge you double to pay for the trip back."

"Fair enough. I'll be sleeping, so please don't disturb me during the ride."

The cabby nodded. "Avalonde it is. I'll have you there by sunrise."

They climbed aboard. The carriage was enclosed, with two hard benches inside. Varsenne rode facing forward, and Jane sat opposite him. The driver cracked his whip and the carriage rattled off, bumping along on the rutted dirt road.

Jane sat bolt upright, her thighs pressed tightly together, her arms folded across her bare breasts. She still was unaccustomed to bring naked. Only a few minutes ago she'd been fully dressed in her navy uniform, and now all she was wearing was a collar with Varsenne's seal. Legally, she was his property now.

She looked off to one side to avoid meeting the Tyrian's gaze. Their knees were just inches apart. The close confines of the cab made the size differential between them even more obvious. Varsenne was a good foot and a half taller than Jane, and powerfully built. It occurred to her that if for any reason she decided to disobey her new sire, Varsenne was more than capable of physically overpowering her to impose his will.

The thought sent a chill down her spine. All of a sudden, she felt very small and helpless. It was a crazy risk she was taking. She was naked, afraid, and alone, billions of miles from home.

No ... not entirely alone.

She was with Varsenne. He would take care of her. He was much stronger than her, true, but that only meant that he was strong enough to keep her safe. She could trust him. He was a scientist like her, a scholar ... and a friend. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. She was small and helpless, but he would protect her.

He had to. She was his property now. She was wearing his mark.

Varsenne leaned forward, and said "Too modest" in a low voice.

Jane blinked and raised one eyebrow. "Too modest?" Her voice was a tiny whisper so the driver wouldn't overhear.

"A fem does not attempt to hide ... to hide her ...." His voice trailed off. He gestured at Jane's naked body.

"Oh ...," Jane said softly. "Oh!"

She willed herself to relax, to let her shoulders slump. She dropped her hands to the bench, letting them flop uselessly beside her. Her breasts were fully exposed, but she was a fem now, and a fem didn't care who saw her breasts. She slouched down, letting her thighs fall carelessly open. A fem didn't care who saw her pussy either.

Jane looked up at Varsenne. She saw his eyes flick from her breasts to her sex then back to her face. Jane blushed. Am I doing it right? She thought. Am I being a good fem?

Varsenne gave her a quick nod of approval. "Better," he said in a hushed whisper.

Then he wrapped himself tighter in his cloak, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.

When Jane awoke, the sun was slanting though the windows of the carriage. She was disoriented at first. Why wasn't she in her bed in the Visitors' quarters? And why was she naked? Then she remembered.

She was curled up on her side on the hard bench. The collar was still around her neck. At some point in the night Varsenne had draped his cloak over her. The Tyrian scholar was already awake. He sat opposite her, looking out the window, lost in thought.

Jane sat up, rubbing her eyes. She yawned, stretching her slim arms over her head. The cloak fell away and Jane resisted the urge to pull it back over herself. You're a fem now, remember. Fems aren't modest.

Varsenne turned away from the window and their eyes met. "We're almost there," he said in a low, stern voice. "Once we leave the carriage, you must not speak. Do you understand?"

Jane bit her lip and nodded. She understood.

The carriage shuddered to a stop. Varsenne opened the door and clambered out. He gave the leash a tug. "Come, Pip," he said.

Jane followed, warily edging out into the sunlight. They were parked on a busy street on the outskirts of Avalonde. Carts and wagons trundled noisily by. The sidewalks were filled with Tyrians going about their business. Jane was the only fem in sight. She huddled close to Varsenne as he paid the driver, her hands clenched tight, fighting the urge to cover herself. She could feel the oms looking at her. Most gave her little more than a cursory glance, but a few openly stared, enjoying the unexpected pleasure of a pretty young fem on full display--her firm little breasts, her athletic thighs, the messy blonde tangle of her pubic hair. Jane looked down at her feet, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.

Varsenne gave the leash another sharp tug and they set briskly off down the street. Jane had to trot to keep up, her tits bouncing, her bare feet stumbling on the uneven cobblestones. Her hair was in her eyes, but she resisted the temptation to brush it back. The morning sun was warm on her bare skin, and soon she could feel prickles of sweat breaking out under her arms and between her shoulder blades. Before they had gone very far, her naked body was shiny with perspiration.

They made their way deeper into the city. She had a thousand questions for Varsenne, but of course dared not speak. Instead, she eagerly drank in the vistas unfolding around her. Finally, this was the real Tyr! Not the Tyr of the musty books in the university library, but the real thing! This is what she had wanted to see! And as her inner scientist reasserted herself, her feelings of self-consciousness receded.

Avalonde was the capital of the kingdom of Cuvarre. It was a port city, and a trading hub, with sailing ships coming and going from all corners of Tyr. Unlike the muddy lanes of the university town, the streets of Avalonde were paved with cobblestones, and tall red brick buildings rose above them on all sides. The sidewalks were crowded with oms from every part of the kingdom: Businessmen and craftsmen, aristocrats, and laborers, some of them elegantly dressed, others in heavy boots and work clothes.

They passed a pair of men walking arm in arm. Of course, that made perfect sense! Fems were for sex and breeding, but if an om wanted love and companionship, he would seek it from another om. Jane knew from books that the Tyrians had marriage, but she had never stopped to consider what the reality would look like. She wondered if Varsenne had someone significant. A boyfriend? What word would he use? He had never mentioned anyone, but then he'd never had reason to.

There were a few fems as well. Like Jane, they were collared and leashed, trailing obediently behind their sires. And also like Jane they were completely naked, their breasts and crotches fully exposed to anyone who cared to look. None of them displayed the slightest hint of modesty.

Jane saw a fem squat in the gutter to relieve herself. She was small and brown, with close-cropped hair, and a pretty elfin face. Her sire stood on the sidewalk, reading a newspaper, oblivious. The girl stared blankly at Jane as a hot stream of piss spattered noisily on the ground between her dirty feet. Jane looked away, mortified.

What had Varsenne said to her the first time he'd seen her naked? That she looked like an animal? She hadn't fully appreciated what he'd meant until now.

They came to a large square with a statue in the middle--some kind of memorial. Along the sides of the square were shops and public houses. Varsenne picked an establishment with tables outside and sat down. There was a second chair opposite him, and Jane almost sat down in it, catching herself only at the last moment. Instead, she dropped to the ground at his feet. She sat with her bare bottom on the cold flagstones, hugged her legs, and propped her chin up on her knees.

Varsenne rested his hand lightly on her head. She looked up at him. There was concern in his eyes. The unspoken question was obvious. Are you alright, Dr. Talbot? How are you holding up? Jane answered with a quick nod, trying to look more confident than she felt. Varsenne nodded back, and stroked her hair reassuringly.

The barman came to take Varsenne's order. He also brought a bowl of water for Jane, placing on the ground in front of her. She knew not to take it in her hands. Instead, she bent over it, lapping up the cool water with her tongue. Her tits were hanging down, and her ass was in the air. It was such a humiliating posture. She knew she was exposing her pussy to anyone who might be behind her. But Jane was thirsty and the water tasted delicious. She drank for a long time.

"Professor Varsenne! What brings you to Avalonde?"

Jane looked up, water dripping from her face. Another Tyrian was approaching, a tall om, with a thick, red beard.

"Maturon, hello!" Varsenne said. "I had some business to conduct in town and I thought I would make a day of it. How are you doing?"

"Not bad, not bad," The red-bearded man gestured at the chair opposite Varsenne. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Not at all. The man just took my order. If you want, I can call him back ...."

The other Tyrian shook his head. "I'm fine. I can't stay long. I just wanted to say hello."

He looked down at Jane. "And who are you, pretty? I haven't seen you before."

"Her name's Pip," Varsenne said. "I ... just acquired her."

The other man looked up.

"Nothing happened to Tams, I hope!"

Varsenne shook his head. "No, no ... Tams is fine. I'm caring for Pip ... at the request of a friend." He gave Jane a significant look.

"Well, be careful, old boy. Two fems can run a man ragged. And this one looks spirited. You can see it in her eyes."

The red-bearded man ruffled Jane's hair. "You're a feisty one, aren't you girl? I bet you're a handful when you're in rut. The spirited ones always are."

Varsenne looked discomfited. "That hasn't been an issue ... so far."

Maturon looked surprised. "So, you haven't serviced her yet? You really did just acquire her! Well then, I'll expect a full accounting the next time we meet. A beauty like this should be quite a ride."

The conversation moved on, first to Maturon's import business, then to politics at the university. Jane sat quietly at their feet, her mind racing. "Rut"? "Serviced"? The words were new to her but their meaning was clear. Maturon was talking about Varsenne having sex with her. Once she thought about it for a bit, it made perfect sense. Varsenne was her sire. Of course Maturon would assume he was fucking her.

The thought left Jane feeling strangely unsettled. She had never thought that way about Varsenne before, but now that Maturon had planted the idea in her head, she found it hard not to. Tyrian males were taller and stronger than human men. Did that size differential extend to other aspects of their anatomy as well?

How big was he? Would she even be able to take all of it? Presumably, she would. Although she was much smaller than him, so were the Tyrian fems. He was so strong though. It would be easy for him to force himself on her, to hold her down, to take her if she didn't cooperate.

Jane had a fleeting image of herself splayed on her back, her hands pinned helplessly over her head, her pale thighs forced open, the massive Tyrian eagerly mounting her, penetrating her.

But then there was the word "rut." That implied a different dynamic, didn't it? Did Tyrian females go into heat? Did they yowl like cats until their sires serviced them? Or was it merely normal female desire, unconstrained by social convention?

The scene in Jane's head shifted. Now Varsenne wasn't the aggressor, she was. She pictured herself down on all fours with her rump raised in the air, lewdly presenting her wet pink sex to him, desperate to be mounted.

My God, what would that be like? His strong hands on her hips, holding her firmly in place. The massive head of his cock rubbing against the lips of her pussy, opening her up, getting her ready. And then he would press forward and enter her, the whole delicious length of him sliding into her, splitting her open, filling her, impaling her.

Servicing her.

Jane shook her head to clear it. Good lord. What was she thinking? She glanced up at the two Tyrians to see if they had noticed anything strange about her behavior. But they were still chatting away about the university. They were oblivious to the naked fem crouched at their feet.

They didn't notice how hard Jane's nipples had become, and fortunately they didn't notice how wet her pussy was. She'd been vaguely aroused ever since they got out of the cab. There was something intensely erotic about walking around naked in public, with Varsenne's collar around her neck and her body fully exposed to anyone who cared to look. The thought of fucking Varsenne had only added to her arousal. The insides of her thighs were slick with the wetness leaking out of her.

The barman came with Varsenne's food, a plate of bread and cheese. He broke off pieces and ate as he and Maturon talked. The smell of his breakfast was enticing, and Jane's stomach growled. She looked up at him hopefully. Please notice that I'm hungry too. Please don't make me beg.

Varsenne noticed. He broke off a small piece of cheese and offered it to her in his open palm. Jane took it delicately into her mouth, her lips brushing lightly against his skin. Oh, it was delicious! She sat with her bare bottom on the ground, chewing contentedly as Varsenne fed her bits of bread and cheese and the two men talked.