The Exchange Ch. 01

Part 1: Entwinement

The rain pressed all around like a great, solid curtain, blurring the world around her. Her lithe hooves fought for traction as she scaled a tree. A bestial grunt of defiance hissed from her nostrils in a steamy haze. She took temporary refuge underneath a great bough, nearly as wide as a road. The rain just below pooled on the other branches, forming great rivers, carrying the detritus that would some day soon become silt on top of the massive, elderly limbs. Above, the rain fell like a constant ocean wave, undiffused by the branches and leaves under which she sheltered.

How had she let things get this bad? Adventuring on this planet had been her dream. Her heritage was nature by construction, a chimeric human built to the specifications of a survivalist. She had been raised on the outskirts of Sol as a miner, living in metal ships with tiny bonsais keeping them alive. Echoes of this grand place, this hyper-real planet far beyond Earth.

She had come here to explore, to seek some form of fulfillment, to feel what her grandparents had on other worlds. Here alone could she do so. Untuned to any planet-bound ecosystem, she could have conceivably died from the simplest pathogen. Here, there were no pathogens. Here, there were no animals. Here, there was only forest.

And the great rains from the great moisture these plants drew had visited her. She had been out scouting ahead when they struck. Flash flooding and extremely low visibility quickly rendered the terrain both different and inscrutable. Safe branches that had been like trails with hollows for safer walking had become raging rivers full of biological debris. Other limbs had bowed under the new weight and swift steps from one branch to another had become massive gaps.

She now sought her way by instinct. Never too high where the rain would overwhelm her. Yet, never so low that she risked being swept away in another sudden upwelling. She scaled from tree to tree by her reflexes alone, technologically naked, sparing only the clothes on her back. She moved from smaller to larger cover. Twice already she had encountered two islands of safety that remained inadequate. They were drafty and water pooled at her feet. She had been forced to forge out into the rain again, searching.

Searching until now. Three smaller branches formed a wide crook, overhung by a much greater branch bountiful with leaves. These branches were short, leading directly onto a trunk nearly as wide as she could stretch her arms. She knew there was nearly a kilometer of tree below her feet, so she could only guess how wide they grew that far down.

As she pulled herself up into the space, she slumped against one of the limbs. The entire area was incredibly dry, so much so that the bark beneath her was barely saturated. If she wanted to sleep without dying of hypothermia, she would have to dry off.

She sighed. To dry off, she would have to shed her clothes. They were heavy and dripping with rainwater and doing her far more harm then good. She raised herself upward, now feeling soreness and hunger, two things she'd been spared by her body as she fought the rain. Now, with the immediate threats dulled, the lesser ones began to seep back into her consciousness.

Her khaki shirt and shorts dropped easily from her lithe frame, poorly hidden by her wet, drooping pelt. She pulled her Lycra top over her head, revealing her modest breasts, peaked by two points of flesh that had grown pale in the cold. Even in this weather, they were flat like saucers, glistening with rainwater. Her clammy underwear went next. It curled down her legs, as saturated as any other bit of her clothing.

Now completely freed, she shook from her head to her toes, sloughing water from her water-resistant, earthen brown fur. Her stomach protested with the motion, tapped dry by her flight from the storm. Frustrated, her eyes instinctively darted around her. There were no fruits and berries in a land without animals. But, she was the sort that could handle that. If it came to it, she could eat leaves right off the branches. Though it would be an everlasting labor and one she didn't want to undertake. She wanted secondary options. She expected none, but there was nothing like desperation to drive someone to irrationally hope.

And, she was suddenly quite glad that she had. A great, hive-like, fleshy growth had been hidden in the shadow of the wafting leaves. Within the spots of light that escaped, she made out the growth's vivid colors. It was crowded inside a great knot within the tree. Every space within the round opening was full with growth. Spheres of green flesh were pressed against each other and ballooned outward from the knot. Flowers sprung from within the clefts between the spheres and, surrounded by three of the largest growths dead center of the mass, a long fruit poked outward. Its tapering end hung slightly downward, dripping liquid that lingered too long to be water.

Curious, she leaned forward, kneeling then dropping onto her hands to get closer along the sloping branch. The air around the fruit reeked of sweet, fruity scents. Esters. Nothing here should have evolved esters, unless it was by chance. There was nothing to advertise to. She was likely the first being that had come into this plant's space that would ever care about those smells.

But, these smells along with the growth's bright colors, reduced to a mere variant of blue in the night's darkness, told her so much. That long growth was likely a fruit, and it wanted to be known as such.

She leaned down and stroked a finger over its length, collecting a few drops of liquid on her finger as it twitched under the contact. She pulled back, startled for a brief moment. However, she surmised she must have imagined the event. Nothing moved in a forest with no creatures.

She rubbed the liquid between her fingers, then waited. After a few minutes, no adverse reaction showed itself. The esters nagged at her senses, tingling in her nose, further clarifying her decision.

She craned her neck as she leaned forward. Her dainty tongue escaped her narrow, equine muzzle and lapped across the tip of the fruit. The liquid that she drew away tasted over-sweet, like a melon's nectar or coconut milk. Her stomach responded viscerally, stirring as she tasted the plentiful sugars.

Partly by her own directive and partly by her own hunger, she was driven to lap again. Her tongue swept boldly upward along the fruit's upper surface, flattening against it and dimpling its soft, yielding skin. A gout of the syrupy liquid spurted from its tip, landing in the tuft of fur above her breasts.

As she lapped up the last of the sweet buildup, she felt compelled to seek more. Her hunger ached more than ever now that it had been enticed by her take. She felt only one need and saw only one option.

She pulled back and captured the tip of the fruit between her narrow, agile lips. It eagerly sprayed the back of her throat as her tongue circled its end. She searched ravenously across every inch of its surface, seeking some divot or pore from whence the liquid had come. A few tense, impatient moments later, her tongue stopped up the pulsing flow of liquid. She drilled the tapered end of her tongue into the opening, seeking out every trace of liquid. However, she felt the opening yawn wider, then was overwhelmed by a torrential flow.

She hummed through her mouthful in surprise, but felt compelled forward. She took the length of the fruit into her long, equine muzzle, wrapping her lips around the narrower base as her tongue cradled her captive. She squeezed down, sucking impatiently as she ached for more. Her eyes closed as a spray lanced into her mouth.

She bucked in surprise as a new sensation caressed her exposed chest. Soft flesh kissed her nipples. She was relieved when it didn't assert itself over her. Part of her had worried that her own ravenous behavior might be returned in kind. When she had felt that contact, a thrill of fear had arced through her. What kind of creature had she found here, she'd wondered. What would it do to her?

The length in her mouth pressed down on her tongue, spreading her lips wide as it grew within her. A hint of nervousness returned, she realized with a tug that she could not extricate herself. But little changed in the ensuing seconds. Nothing was leveraged against her now that the tables had turned. Why had she been trapped, then?

The flesh returned to the peaks of her breasts, now more confident. They courted her, caressing and prodding until their contact brought about a nervous ache of anticipation. But, she found that she was egging them forward.

What sort of creature had she attracted? Why did it find that part of her so... fascinating? They moved upward, pressing her flat as they yawned open and squeezed down. She yelped through the contact, then squirmed as they opened and bared down, kneading her deeper into their grip.

They seemed to soak her in for a few quiet moments. Then, the movement started. She lost track of time, the only sound the endless drive of the rain and the insistent, rhythmic cluck of the mouths upon her. They kneaded and teased her flesh, sparing no contact as they explored her so carefully. With nothing else to measure by, she was left alone with the stimulation, wondering over the peculiar turn of events. For minutes or hours, she sat captive. Steamy breath hissed through her nose, ever faster as she began to lose control of herself. For a while, she felt herself involuntarily arching away, seeking an exit from the uncomfortable, unbearable feelings.

Soon, though, the odd tickling sensation became a tired itch, than a rattling thrill of pleasure. It could have been minutes or hours before she felt the flow of nectar slacken. By then, she'd stop twisting away and instead pressed her flat chest deeper into their grasp. When the fruit grew limp and slipped from her, she didn't know what to do at first. The fervor was gone in a flash and she felt irrational shame. The feelers clung to her as she rose, only popping free as she stood, making her yelp at the bizarre, dual-sensation.

She flopped down onto one of the nearby tree limbs. Though she was tired and the two sole patches of naked flesh at her breasts blushed with the fatigue of the act, she was warm for the first time since the sun had set. She had survived, she was alive.

Sleep fell upon her like a heavy blanket. Though she awakened many times in the driving weather, it was the best sleep she'd had in a very long time.

***

It had become unclear now what was day and what was night. The tempest pressed on, turning her life into a timeless dance of sleep and wakefulness. Hunger now ached inside her once again, it had driven her, not unwillingly, back to the plant.

The length graced her narrow muzzle, visibly pulsating as it labored to sate her. Her throat worked as earnestly, gyrating as she greedily took in what was offered to her. She moved beneath the plant's attention. But, her movements were no longer driven by nervousness. Instead, she moved deeper into contact with the mouths squeezing her. They milked up and down her domes of naked flesh, fat and puckering around their centers as they were groomed.

It was more than she could take. Pleasure had slowly morphed back into a tense fatigue that now threatened to overwhelm her. Just as she began to contemplate brushing the feelers aside, even for a moment's respite, the mouths released her and slid away upon their long, slithering stalks.

She was taken by surprise by the twin tendrils that emerged in their place. They were narrower, ending in dainty pods that now hovered over her blushing flesh. They floated downward and tongues emerged from their puckering lips. The tiny, agile appendages swept over her. They circled her and explored the tiny divot at the center of each nipple with relentless curiosity. They drilled and probed her, confused by the new find. She tried not to squirm from the contact, hoping it would go on if she just sat still and didn't scare them away.

Wherever the tongues touched, a thick salve dripped onto her. The tongues swept it over every exposed space within their reach, then parted open like pointy-leaved blossoms. They closed around the base of her nipples, drawing upward and gently kneading her. As they endlessly repeated the process, the salve was driven deeper into her. Before her eyes, a lively pink hue began to show through her usual, pale tan color. A final, especially strong squeeze made her emit a muted yelp. Before she had time to recover, the other feelers had returned to embrace her blushing flesh that the others had so eagerly left.

With no other company, isolated beneath he tree boughs, she found her thoughts increasingly returning to the plant. She checked on it often, waiting for the telltale drip of nectar that signaled its readiness. Its tender kisses gave her something to experience. It fragmented hours of boredom with bouts of intimacy. It became an anchor by which she could remember herself.

***

Like an invading army succumbing to the inevitability of defeat by hidden and entrenched natives, the rain had fled past the horizon. Even as the sun shone and she could roam freely, she found herself somehow reluctant to leave. She didn't want to risk sacrificing a sure source of sustenance. Subtly, she also felt indebted. If this plant had grown so intimate, why didn't it take what it likely wanted? Her sex ached each time she pondered this. In spite of herself, she'd begun to enjoy their silent trysts.

The suddenly ample sunlight had given her a chance to dry her clothes. However, she'd felt no need to don each garment as intended. She was alone in this remote place. No beacon had pinged her cortical transponder, no rotodyne had soared overhead. If there was a search going on, it was poorly executed.

So she'd barely surprised herself when she realized what a hindrance her Lycra sports bra was to her daily activities. She had little need for it, anyway, she wasn't well endowed. Though 'well' was subjective. Her build was well suited to her line of work, never obtrusive or ungainly. So much so that the only difference she felt now was a subtle draft against her bare chest. She had donned her khaki top once again, but she wore it quite unconventionally. Every button remained undone, the garment wafting in the wind and flaunting her femininity to the great distances beyond.

It had been an easy decision, saving her a great deal of inconvenience now that her daily habits had so changed to revolve around the plant's wants. In spite of its oddness, it kept her thinking. It gave her something besides herself to interact with, even if that interaction was of a very peculiar nature. All the more reason to give it easy access to her most sensitive places.

She reclined beneath the plant, shoulders back and shirt wide open. Her nipples had grown ripe, fattening in anticipation of the next interaction. It could come at any moment, and part of her was thrilled that she was so prepared. It was odd how the part of her that received least focus, that had been so marginal in her life, had suddenly become the object of this alien's desires.

The plant seemed aware of her presence, and her outlook. Twin feelers emerged from puckered tubes buried in its recesses, rounding downward and snaking around the bases of her breasts. She gasped, surprised by the sensation of their constriction as they coiled around her, climbing higher and gathering her to prominence. A pressure suddenly began to build at her peaks, rising sharply and making her wail in delight. As it became unbearable, a final spike of pleasure radiated through her like ball lightning. She arched her back as two narrow, tapering peaks of flesh sprang from the subtly puckered ends of her nipples, flinging tiny droplets of perspiration and some other liquid from their ends.

The feelers finished their spiral, rising upward as their drooling ends turned toward their newly revealed captives. She knew what was coming, but her reverted peaks itched in the open air, blushing and undeniably sensitive. It could be too much, she thought. What were her limits?

She belted out an animalistic yowl as the mouths shot forward, burying her peaks deep inside their grasp with a wet plop. They squeezed and milked over her new length, churning atop her as she screwed her eyes shut. Her loud, urgent sighs were silenced by the fruit, which wriggled against, then into her eager lips.

It earnestly pumped into her, as if its outflow would keep her anchored to reality amongst the tumult of stimulation. In spite of herself, her body twisted in protest at the sheer amount of stimulation. She alternated between writhing against the tree at her back and arching upward to press her breasts into the grasp of the plant. Part of her wanted it badly, but part of her realized how spoiled she'd be to whatever came after this time, whenever she rejoined civilization.