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The Exchange 3: Synchronicity

In her travels, she began to realize that the sensation of her new weight wasn't an unpleasant one. It was an obvious distraction, but she made less of a negative connection than that. Instead of distracting her, she almost felt closer to earth leaving herself exposed in spite of it. She had no one to hide her ungainly bounce from, this was the best part of the revelation in her mind. She had no need to contain her femininity.

In the intervening week that the round trip had taken, she'd grown past all relative viewpoints of normal she'd ever possessed, almost to the point that she now looked like an entirely different woman by her profile. She felt very different, too. The nagging sensations had become a need. It had gotten to the point where, during her last day of travel, she'd had to stop and massage away her burden. As she'd writhed past the self-inflicted, unbearably wonderful sensation, a storm of arcing droplets had sailed fruitlessly into the understory.

When she'd finally arrived, she discovered the plant had not fared well. Its fleshy form inside the hollow was half open. She saw her first free moving creatures swarming around it. Flies gathered on some of its surfaces, likely attracted by the sickly-sweet smell of resins and nectar that flowed from it like a corpse miasma.

When she approached, it seemed to recognize her. It stirred, almost seeming to convulse with the effort of moving after lying dormant for so long. To her, it looked like the mannerisms of the sick. In spite of her resentment from before, she frowned sadly as she looked on.

A compassionate hand stroked over the area where it ended and the ruddy knothole of the tree began. The plant didn't present any feelers to do its usual work, but two puckering stalks protruded at the sides of the fruit at hip level. Another aching flare returned, the painful fullness of her breasts made her shudder. Almost without thinking, she kneeled before the stalks and presented herself to their open ends. Her full breasts bounced as the mouths weakly kissed onto her tapering equine teats.

Agile, vivid red tongues slithered from their puckering ends, encircling her and constricting. Her howl of delight echoed off the surrounding trees as milk sprayed messily against the plant. Egged on by her bounty, the mouths disgorged sheaths of flesh that crawled up the tongues and gripped down on her, capturing part of her outpour. The mouths followed, extending a sea of tube feet that latched onto whatever flesh remained exposed.

When the mouths finally latched down onto her, she climaxed. Though the pleasure had been hard to take before, the climax was sudden and beyond anything she'd felt in a long time, rocketing through her nerves and making her eyes roll in odd directions, now lost to her control. Her pert bottom gyrated, the only part of her fully unconstrained by the plant. Her shorts were hot and moist against her loins.

When she felt an unmistakeable, blunt contact between her kneeling legs, she struggled to raise them without second thought. She wanted pleasure and now, after no one had been at the camp to greet her as she'd hoped, she wanted companionship. Though she wouldn't admit it for some time, in the odd thoughts flowing through her in her throes, she wanted to be loved.

One leg was freed, planting her hot, naked folds on the tree below. The spike of pleasure nearly made her lose her garment over her narrow hoof. She managed to throw it aside just as she got a look at the new invader.

Like some armored, green snake, it slithered to present its end toward her opening. Its front was formed out of smooth, sectioned pads, all the better to slip into her. But, behind, a ring of knobby buds pointed backward. The visual only made her more earnestly curl backward, angling her wet folds between her kneeling legs forward.

It moved gently, but failed to advance, as if it was unsure of her intent. But, when she pressed herself forward and buried its tip in her fringes, it seemed to understand. The feeler behind it straightened out, powering it deep into her. She arched backward. Her breasts bounced as they were thrust upward, even as she felt her spray into the mouths intensify. The stalks pulsated with the sudden outflow, gulping it down toward their source in great gouts.

She made a noise in the back of her throat, unable to muster any thing more coherent amidst the dual stimulation. The faux-maleness raked her before pressing in once more. Her breasts bounced as she began to buck with increasing fervor at the length's building rhythm. Feelers embraced her heart-shaped buttocks, raising her upward until her legs hung freely. Freed from the ground, her slight, hoofed feet spasmed and curled as she gave an earnest, halting cry.

As she rose off the ground, her breasts inched closer to the mouths' source. The puckering bases through which they disappeared into the plant opened wide. They revealed a dark green sea of beating fingers, like the tastebuds on a tongue on a grander scale.

The feelers urged her forward. She mewled as they pulled at her nipples. For a moment, she resisted their pull, enjoying the way they sucked more eagerly at her flesh. They clucked over her in confusion, giving a few insistent tugs. The motion sent ripples across her bosom, bouncing with its still-substantial weight. The stimulation made her relent as their heightened grip sent white rivulets streaming from where they met.

Her newly promiment, rounded breasts fit neatly into the space made for them. As the openings puckered closed around her, she briefly shuddered, simultaneously worrying over and eagerly anticipating the agonizingly amazing treatment she expected.

The fingers pressed into her soft flesh as the muscular inner walls massaged her. They squeezed and released, each repeat eliciting a grateful cry from her lips. The pressure of her burden rose in spikes with each squeeze. Her teats practically burned with heat, likely blushing as they eagerly sprayed into their captors.

The feelers dimpling her muscular butt slid from their grip on her. She gave a silent, passionate scream and threw her head backward as she slid downward, her full weight on the spurred length. Her black folds trickled with her own fluids, sending a patter of drops down onto the tree as she was pressed upon. She hugged the tree, partly for support and partly out of some euphoric wish to get closer to the creature sating her so. Her cheek stroked the plant's soft flesh as she nuzzled her shoulder.

She raised her knees, spreading herself wide and giving her a new purchase. Her nimble, hoofed feet alternated between curling outward and pressing flat against the tree as she slid further down the length. She lost control and screamed into her shoulder. A familiar appendage pressed at her exposed cheek as she calmed down. She allowed it into her panting mouth, not caring from whence it came.

It was only as it drew her downward that she felt it squeezed between her breasts. It had slipped unnoticed between the narrow space between the plant and herself, where the bases of her breasts were squeezed by the puckering over-mouths. It peered through the valley of her cleavage, something she'd never experienced. As she lowered her mouth down its length, her lips kissed her own pelt. As she was gathered and squeezed, her own soft flesh embraced her muzzle. The fruit writhed and spurted into her mouth, held closed and buried by her own impressive cleavage.

She shivered through a climax, unmoving in the grip of the tentacles. Her physical bonds were so deep, she looked like some odd fixture of the tree, as contrasting to the plant as its own green, soft flesh taking up residence in the knothole. But, by being so mis-fitting among misfits, she belonged. The toned muscles of her back contorted in a wave that traveled down her still narrow waist. The toned curve of her butt pressed downward on the length, driving it into her spread folds, whose fluids had begun to run a milky green.

There was an audible squelching as the feeler briefly fattened, spreading her even more as a burst of fluid sprayed from where it met her. Her hips bucked with the contact, but she was mentally unshaken. In fact, she felt a malaise lowering over her. Her eyelids grew heavy and shut out the darkening world. Though she wasn't released, the plant's rhythm did slacken. The wet, sucking draws against her breasts and the thrum of the length's ejections grew steadier and more drawn out. In the afterglow, she allowed herself to dip into sleep.

In her dreams, she lived in a sea of white while a dull, intensely pleasant thrum rhythmically lanced up her loins. She was suspended by the whiteness with her knees at her shoulders as sunrays pulsated into her spread folds, otherwise naked before the void. Light ravished her body, embraced her, stroked her cheek. Encouraging whispers danced across her ear. The voice evaded her, first one person, than another. At first, it was random, taking the form of friends and, in one disturbing moment, that of her late mother.

When she had violently strained against her bonds, suddenly shunning the intimate touches, the voice had receded for an eternity. It eventually returned, now forming a precession of her lovers across the decades. She noticed that none of those with which she'd ended things unpleasantly spoke up. Whatever was speaking, it had learned.

For an eternity more, the light and whiteness caressed and flowed into her, playing up and down her back, kissing the nape of her neck, and twisting over her definitively aroused nipples. All the while, the whispers gradually became thoughts and sentences. Her beloved Leyla, her companion on long-cycle freight runs, who had lived with her in cold sleep, jumped with her forward in the dialated time of relativistic speeds, told her that someone wanted badly to meet her. Brunel, a young, starstruck groundsider who had rekindled her after Leyla left for a new life around her favorite star, told her she was safe but free. Amarantin, a scholar-monk who had learned her every curve and dimple with loving carefulness, told her how beautiful she was as a butterfly perched on top of her ample, rounded chest.

She awoke the next morning in much the same position as she'd been in the dream, the rhythmic thrum becoming audible as fluids pattered beneath her with each pulse. The silky taste of sugars flowed deep in her mouth. A gentle patina of fluids clung to her lips, grasped around the fruit which she still unwittingly sucked. Morning weakness hung over her like a heavy film of gause. However, she didn't struggle to free herself from it. Instead, she took the moment to admire the plant's gentle fawning across her tired flesh.

The length beating gently inside her folds had grown fat inside her, dribbling greenish-white fluids. Her bottom shivered and squirmed like a dreaming animal as it pulsated inside her, expanding and contracting with each spray of fluid. Tendrils grew from the confused, folded surfaces of the plant, grasping her hips like so many gentle hands, quivering in sync with her every movement. Her chest heaved with each loving draw against her bosom, released now save the feelers quivering atop her. The movement had eased over the night, as if it had just become a habit on the part of the plant. Or, it was as if she were being milked for her pleasure rather than everything else that came along with it.

She hummed through the fruit, still squirming between her mounds, which had ripened around their catch, subtly filling out during long hours of neglect. Her long, narrow muzzle was buried in their soft expanse and she felt as though she could continue to sleep. There was no reason to be afraid anymore, she would be taken care of.

She batted her eyelashes, falling deeper into placidity when a movement in her waning vision jolted her back into the waking world. The tubes at her breasts fattened as something traveled down their length. In an instant, unseen mouths gripped down on her, massaging her aching nipples. It was only then she recognized the ache not as fatigue, but fullness.

The muffled, burbling spray of her ejections into the plant was drowned out by her own ecstatic howl. The length fell from her retreating lips as she arched her entire body, pushing herself downward on the length embedded in her and pressing her breasts deeper into the plant's grip. She cupped herself with eager hands and began to knead herself into the plant, trying earnestly to empty herself. The yellow length squirmed with confusion and surprise, squeezed between her breasts. It gave an occasional, feeble spurt, not entirely sure from whence the stimulation had come that made it do so.

Her scream was protracted, dancing across octaves as she felt a new kind of flux, so aware of her new otherness even as she exhausted it into the eager mouths of the plant. They squelched over her and joined her hands in massaging across her breasts. Feelers slithered from their peaks outward, encompassing and squeezing her in an alternating rhythm. Her hands retreated and began to stroke along her thighs, exploring the wetness in her short, white guard hairs. Even as she regained control of her gaze and stared downward, she saw the telltale fingers of the grooming feelers extending in a starburst from her nipples. They curled in, squeezing her ample flesh and enhancing her surprise with a fervor of contact.

As the plant drew her near and closed around her breasts, pressing in with fingerlike contact, she began to move with a fervor opposite the calmness she'd been enfolded in moments before. She squirmed beneath the plant's suckling as it drank deeper than ever before. They continued for hours. Her only respite came when the inner-mouths withdrew, allowing the others to tenderly suckle her through a flow of salve that dribbled form where they met.

Their fluids mixed across her body, shimmering over her stomach and legs. When dusk found her again, hunger was not far behind. Without hesitation or modesty, she slipped her lips over the fruit and drew upon the nectar that fattened its saturated form.

In the deep twilight, the plant released her bosom from its deep grip, allowing her to recline on a trunk of strong feelers even as the length continued to ceaselessly pump its green excretions into her. It had gone on for two days now, but she was still surprised by what she saw. Peaking the twin hills of her breasts, she swore she saw her nipples blushing green. The hue was subtle, coming from within, but unmistakeable. Her body bounced as the length pushed gently against her with each release, making her heavy breasts roll above her slight form.

Still, she felt unfazed. As sleep nagged at her, she began to long for close contact. In a daze, she clumsily dragged herself upward, surprised by the full bounce of her breasts. What sort of demands had been placed upon her over the last week that she could be drawn from so endlessly? How could she remain so full?

But, she didn't care. She sighed as, almost as if taken aback, the plant started as she fell into its twin hollows. They closed clumsily over her, squeezing affirmatively as she settled. A trickle of greenish white fluid escaped their grasp. It dripped downward, escaping into the tree below before the mouths eagerly slipped over her peaking flesh once again, touching her in the only way they understood.

Reality blended into dream as life pulsed from the peaks of her tapered nipples, swirling into the white void. Her loins and stomach glowed bright beneath her, but the glow was ubiquitous, coming from within and pulsing in time with her breaths.

She faded back into wakefulness. The night was blue around her, fed by the glow of the young star over the planet's tiny, icy moon. She felt her mouth as a plurality, tenderly locked over engorged flesh, carpeting it with stimulation even as it gave rich water in return, she tasted the rich flavor as no human had. The complex molecules, the vitamins that allowed her to animate around the beautiful, youthful body that was herself. She sucked contentedly, feeling the dual stimulation as she flowed into herself. She felt her insides on herself and herself on her insides.

She faded away again, aching with the wonderful pleasure of the moments or hours which she'd spent in that place. Had it been real?

Yes.

She felt it like an echo. This wasn't herself, it had come from elsewhere.

Felt Us endearment, Earthchild. Us, thankful, so alone.

The otherness coalesced from the white void, glowing like herself. It entwined gently around her. She nuzzled it with her chin as it wound over her sternum.

So alone. World full of Us. World full of same. Othermind. Sadmind. Hungrymind. Life giver.

She wondered what this... this thing was. It clicked in a flash. The animateness of its movements, the tending by almost living, definitely loving hands. It was alive, and it wanted to speak with her.

Us wants to know.

She let it in, feeling her memories touch its own, converse, dance. She was a million years old, angry, dying, in pain. So much pain, galaxies of burning torment inside an infinite living maze. Her surroundings conspired, killed her in tiny pieces. She fought, then found the agents of her demise within the inside places and killed, slaughtered.

Tiny cells, specifically targeted, reconfigured, disempowered. Then the inside places became unwell, she saw it in the subtle signs across millions of inner walls. They began to die around her and, deprived of her wellbeing in these tiny ecosystems, she, as well.

Then the others, the dark evil killers. Tiny, geometric torpedoes and shambling, archaic nightmares gone amok. Afraid like she had never been, she slaughtered again. This time she tore them to pieces. She did not wound, she vaporized, disintegrated, broke them.

Then, she was alone in the inside places - bodies. They were bodies! As she realized with horror that she had been a parasite, a new inside place outside the others emerged. She could see them, sharing this place not of red or violet, but a beautiful othercolor. Though the creatures here saw it as a vivid white-gold, she knew she saw it as green. A side affect of the blue star far above them all.

Here, in this world, she was alone. Us was alone, talking only to itself, until more others came.

There were more of the evil dark ones, their eldritch geometry and mechanical, molecular perfection so familiar. They came in tiny spurts, from these outside-others. They broke him slightly, using mirror things to rend his green tower-selves. His others died, until he made something new. He watched them move, watched the movement of the things beneath their taut skin.

At first, he had been afraid. Afraid of their movement, like the dark others. Those that moved, those that killed. But, then, he had watched, begun to basically grasp the vibrations they made in the air. He began to subtly nudge himself over the long time they remained. Great structures rose like lighting. Light filled the night from their magic suns, they strode across bridges between his selves and lived in tiny enclosures in his goliath boughs.

He saw them alone, saw what they did with their animateness. How they grew more animate alone, more violent. But, when they came together, alone from others but together, he saw beauty. She fell back into him at the first image.

A nude, cishuman male with normal genetics with another posthuman the likes if which she'd never seen. Her narrow, furless body moved with fine-tuned grace, supported by her complex limbs. Thousands of glimpses of so many others followed. Many familiar species of slightly different design. Sometimes it was them alone, other times, the curious posthumans were involved or joined alone.

So many, thousands and thousands. Then darkness came like cold snow over naked flesh. Alone. Us. Alone.

You. Beautiful lifegiver.

And her life rose up out of the depths in such clarity, such completeness. She fell throguh the forest of her memories, bathed in their warmth and unafraid. Her lovers, her coveted mental equals, her moments of a long lost family. Trees and flowers in a flwoing green plane beneath a star much like the Sun. Its twin was distant, tiny, glowing blue in the sky.

You are beautiful, earthchild, lifegiver. Crash like a wave into us. Give us so much. Give us bodyfruit and mindcaress. You, earthchild.

She loved herself, beautiful, feminine, moving. Perfectly alien and yet exotic. Other, woman, life giver. She felt something like religion, herself in a temple, a goddess. She sat on her knees, kneeling with her hands at her sides, the size of everything and lit from below. The image shifted as she considered herself, wondering if she liked how she'd changed.

Her normal aspect, mentally innocent and ignorant of her future but its base nature unchanged. Her nubile body was a clean line, her breasts no larger than her nipples, subtle and toned as the rest of her was. Then, she grew, her bosom a great weight, a round protuberance from her front body, her spine subtly arched to accommodate the shift. Her smooth stomach was a pleasant curve, making up for definition with purity of shape. A single, gentle continuous curve to her smooth hips and the V of her loins. The plantlife that had climbed the timeless pedistal on which she knelt had entwined within her folds. She saw every detail rendered, how they toyed with her over the span of years, embracing her skin, growing inside her to grind against her inner reaches...

And her placid face was at peace, unchanged from before. Innocent as she ever was. Lifegiver.

You, beautiful lifegiver.

The thought was an echo with a different meaning. She hadn't truly changed with the grand scheme. She focused over her shapely breasts, then saw herself flat. It changed little, merely a matter of preference.

Perhaps the time would come when she'd return to as she was. Bot, for now, she embraced the form before her, life splashing from the tips of her blushing, naked peaks.