Planet CMNF Ch. 01

Tyr was a human colony orbiting a placid yellow star a dozen light years from Earth. It had originally been settled during the first wave of generation ships, but communications had been severed shortly after the colonists had landed. The arrival of the warp ship Bellerophon was the first contact the Tyrians had had with the rest of humanity in over a thousand years. Earth was only a distant memory to them, the stuff of myths and legends.

Technologically, the Tyrians were still pre-industrial--horse-drawn carriages and candlelight--but they did have a rudimentary knowledge of science. Their leaders could grasp who the visitors from the stars were, and what their arrival meant. Reintegration with the wider human community should have relatively straightforward.

Expect for a cruel biological quirk.

The Tyrians possessed a unique recessive mutation of the X chromosome. It was probably the result of radiation exposure during their long voyage from Earth. The men with their XY chromosomes, were immune, but the double-X women were profoundly affected. It rendered them docile and obedient, incapable of speech or reason, little more than animals.

The crew of the Bellerophon only discovered this after they made contact. The initial Earth delegation included several women, which caused a great deal of shock and confusion among the Tyrians.

But eventually, a compromise was reached. An enclave was established on the campus of the oldest university on Tyr. There the visitors could work in secret with Tyrian scholars to figure out how to welcome the planet back into the human fold without destroying its unique culture in the process.

"This is maddening," Jane said, flinging the history book across the wooden table.

Varsenne picked it up and carefully smoothed the crumpled pages. "I know our information technology is primitive compared to yours, but surely ...."

Jane sighed. "It's not the technology that's driving me crazy. What I hate is learning everything second-hand!"

"I don't understand ...."

"I'm a scientist, Varsenne. My mission is to observe your culture and try to understand it. But sitting here reading dusty books isn't observing. I need to get out there and see things with my own eyes."

Varsenne scowled. "Here in the university, you're a scientist! I'll admit it was hard at first to interact with a talking fem ... a thinking fem. But over time, I've grown accustomed to working with you.

"But out there!" He waved toward the blacked-out windows. "You'd be a freak ... a perversion! You couldn't walk down the street without being mobbed. How could you observe our culture under those conditions?"

Jane paced back and forth.

"I've been thinking," she said. "What if I went in disguise ...?"

Varsenne shook head. "Impossible! Even your larger males would have a hard time passing as one of us. You, with your smaller physique people would see through the ruse in an instant."

Jane wheeled around and fixed him with her gaze.

"Ah, but who said I would disguise myself as an om ...?"

The Tyrian looked at her in shock.

Jane continued excitedly. "Think about it, Varsenne. What did you call me? 'A talking fem ... a thinking fem'? On a purely anatomic level I could easily pass for one of your females. All I'd have to do is keep my mouth shut."

"It's not so simple! Fems have a way of being ... a way of acting. They're docile, obedient, passive. You're nothing like that!"

"But I could pretend to be. I've been observing the fems that you've brought us to study. Their range of behavior is very limited. I'm sure I could mimic it! Here, watch."

Jane let her face go slack. Her eyes took on a distant, cow-like stare. She let her body relax out of her normal upright posture into the languorous slouch of a fem, and took two gliding steps toward Varsenne.

"Stop!" he cried, recoiling. "You're behaving like an animal!"

"Exactly!" Jane said, snapping back to normal. "No one pays attention to animals. I could observe Tyrian culture up close and no one would even notice me. I'd just be another mindless fem."

"Fems aren't allowed to roam around unsupervised. You'd be picked up immediately by the authorities."

Jane looked at him intently. "I don't have to be unsupervised."

"You can't be serious!" Varsenne said. "You expect me ...?"

"... to pretend to be my owner ... my master ... whatever you call it."

"Your ... sire."

"My sire. Please, Varsenne, be my sire. I can't do this without your help. Help me understand your people."

The Tyrian stared at her, stunned. He took a long time to reply.

"You would have to go naked, you realize--like an animal."

Jane's face reddened. "I'm ... I'm willing to do that."

"You would have to wear a collar with my mark on it. Otherwise, you could be mistaken for a feral."

"What's a feral?"

"A sireless fem. Fair game for any om who can catch them."

"Fascinating." Jane said. She picked up her tablet and began frantically scribbling notes.

"You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?" Varsenne said.

"Nope," she said. She didn't look up from her writing.

The Tyrian sighed.

"Meet me in the lower garden at midnight tomorrow night. I'll take you into the city."

Both moons were high in the sky, illuminating the campus with their pale, silvery glow. Jane moved cautiously through the echoing cloisters. It was unlikely she'd encounter anyone at this time of night, but still ... she'd rather not answer any questions about what she was doing out of the Visitors' quarters.

At least her black uniform afforded her some camouflage. She tried to keep to the shadows and avoid the direct moonlight. Her boots made a faint tap-tap sound on the flagstones, but otherwise she was silent.

Her heart was pounding in her chest. When she had described her plan to Varsenne, it had sounded so foolproof and simple! But now that she was only a few minutes away from going through with it, the danger of what she was attempting loomed larger and larger. Could she really mimic a fem well enough to walk undetected down a Tyrian street? What would happen if she were caught? Would they punish her somehow? Send her off-planet? Or do something even worse?

Jane took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. There was no turning back now.

Varsenne was waiting for her by the fountain. He was wearing a dark cloak and carrying a blackout lantern and a valise.

"Please tell me you've come to your senses," he said.

Jane shook her head. "I'm completely committed."

"Then come with me. Only... whatever happens... remember I tried to stop you."

"Your conscience can be clear, Varsenne. This is my choice."

He led her to a gardener's shed. Once inside he uncovered the lantern, flooding the small room with light.

"There's a gate in the wall of the garden. The groundskeepers use it occasionally, but it's kept locked most of the time. Locked and unguarded."

He held up a key.

"This is the key to the gate. Don't ask me how I got it. A carriage is waiting outside. The driver knows nothing of the Visitors. If you walk through the gate, you must do so as my fem."

"Did you bring a collar?"

"Yes, and a lead. I'll put them on you when you're ready."

Jane swallowed hard. This was it, the moment of truth. She considered asking Varsenne to leave while she stripped, but then realized how ridiculous it would sound. If she was going to be a convincing fem, she had to suppress any sense of modesty about her body.

Proceeding methodically, the young anthropologist began to disrobe. The toggles on her uniform tunic made muffled clicking sounds as she undid them one by one. The cool night air raised goosebumps as it touched her flesh. Jane's complexion was pale, with a light dusting of freckles across her chest and shoulders, and in the dim light of the shed her exposed skin took on a luminous glow.

The Tyrian was watching her, a strange expression on his face.

Jane took off her boots. The stone floor felt cool and smooth on the tender soles of her bare feet. It occurred to her that she might be shoeless for a while. Wherever Varcenne took her, she'd need to go barefoot to pass for a fem. But unlike a true fem she didn't have calluses from doing it her entire life. Hopefully Varsenne would take that into account.

She unfastened her trousers and let them drop around her ankles.

"Give me your clothes," Varsenne said. "I'll keep them safe for you."

Jane carefully folded her uniform and handed it to him. He tucked it into his valise, along with her boots.

She was down to just her undergarments now--a sheer undershirt and panties. A momentary thrill went through her. What would Varsenne think of seeing her naked? Would he find her attractive? Or sexually desirable? The strangeness of what she was doing washed over her. Here she was, on an alien world, billions of miles from Earth, undressing in front of an offshoot of humanity so distant he was practically a separate species.

With amused detachment she realized that a part of her wanted Varsenne to be attracted to her. She might be a respected anthropologist, but she was also a human female, with all behavioral baggage that implied. Millions of years of evolution had hard-wired her brain to respond positively to the attentions of a high-status male. On some level, I instinctively want him to want me, she thought ... how curious! She wished she had her tablet so she could write her observations down, but she'd left it back in her room.

As casually as she could, Jane gripped the bottom of her undershirt and stripped it off over her head. Her breasts were small and firm, her dark nipples hard in the cool night air. Scarcely pausing, she hooked her thumbs in her panties and pulled them off as well.

She was naked. Long hours in the shipboard gym had left her body trim and fit. Her abdomen was flat, and her legs were slim and muscular. Despite her slender build, her hips had a feminine flair, the points of her pelvis showing in sharp relief in the shadowy light. Her buttocks were round and firm. Her pubic hair was a tidy wedge of dirty blonde curls. It was matted down from being compressed by her underwear and Jane reflexively ran her fingers through it to fluff it.

She realized Varsenne was staring at her. She turned slowly in place, letting him see her from all sides.

"What do you think?" she said. "Will I make a convincing fem?"

Varsenne answered slowly, as though he had something caught in his throat. "Your physiology is ... uh ... quite similar. You'll need to wear your hair loose, though."

"Oh, right. Of course."

Jane undid her coiled braids and shook out her hair. It cascaded down over her shoulders in loose, wheat-colored waves. She brushed some across her face, giving her a wild, unkempt look.

"How's that?"

"You look ... like an animal. It's very disturbing."

"Where's my collar?"

Varsenne reached into the valise. The collar was dark brown leather, about two inches wide. It bore the Tyrian's personal seal in silver filigree, and it fastened with a pair of small silver buckles. Jane turned it over in her hands. The leather was scuffed and worn. She looked up at Varsenne quizzically.

"Who ...?"

Varsenne hesitated.

"I've had Tams for eight years. This is her old collar. I bought her a new one last summer."

"Tams ...," she said thoughtfully, running her fingers over the raised seal. "Here, help me put it on."

Jane lifted her hair, exposing her slender neck. Varsenne carefully slipped the collar on and fastened the buckles. Then he took a small silver padlock from his pocket and locked the collar so it couldn't be undone.

"Why the lock?" Jane said.

"Fems aren't intelligent but they are curious," Varsenne said. "And they have cunning little fingers. Without a lock the collar wouldn't stay on a minute."

"Cunning little fingers ...," Jane said. She reached up and tugged at the collar. It was snug, but not uncomfortably so. She was surprised by how heavy it was. The leather felt cool and smooth against her skin. She was wearing Varsenne 's mark. According to Tyrian law, she was his property now. A few minutes ago, they had been colleagues ... equals. Now she was essentially his pet.

Varsenne took a long leather lead out of the valise. He clipped one end to her collar and looped the other end around his wrist. "Most of the time while we're in the city I'll keep you leashed," he said. "There are only a few locations where fems are allowed to roam loose--the park for example."

She looked up at him wryly. "I'll try to be well-behaved."

He looked back seriously. "That would be a good idea. The more obedient you are, the easier it will be to take you places."

"I need a name. What will you call your new fem?"

The Tyrian thought for a bit. "Pip," he said finally. "You look like a Pip ... don't ask me why. Small and quick."

"Pip ... Pip," Jane said, trying the name on for size, "Good enough. Very well, sire, I promise to come when I'm called."

Varsenne gave her another strange look.

"Then ... come, Pip. The driver is waiting."

He gave the leash a tug. Like a good fem, Jane followed. He led her out of the shed, and into the garden.

They walked down the path to the gate with Varsenne in the lead. Jane padded along a few steps behind. A gentle breeze brushed against her bare skin, reminding her how naked and exposed she was. She shivered slightly, and hugged herself with her thin arms.

The gate was tucked away behind an angle of the wall. Varsenne fitted the key into the lock. He paused for a moment and looked back at Jane.

"This is your last chance. If you come to your senses and turn back, I'll give you your clothes we'll pretend this never happened."

Jane shook her head. "Let's go," she said.