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From: Shakes Peer2B <shakespeer2B@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} (New) (Shakes Peer2B) Lost Colonies:Planet of the Apes (MF, FF, n/c?, scifi, non-human)
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Date: Tue, 21 Dec 2004 11:10:03 -0500
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________________________________
This is a story about a sexual FANTASY written for consenting adults. If 
you're not both of those, don't read it.  Characters in a FANTASY don't 
get sick or die unless I want them to. In real life, people who don't 
use condoms and other safe-sex techniques do get sick and die. You don't 
live in a FANTASY so be safe.  The fictional characters in my stories 
are trained and experienced in acts of FANTASY - don't try to do what 
they do - someone could get hurt.

If you think you know somebody who resembles any of the characters here, 
congratulations, but you're wrong - any similarity between the 
characters in this story and any real person is purely coincidental, 
since all of these characters are figments of my dirty little imagination.

This is my story, not yours. Don't sell it or put it on a pay site. You 
can keep it and/or give it away with all of this information intact, but 
if you make money off of it without my permission, you're breaking the 
law and pissing me off.
_________________________________
Lost Colonies:Planet of the Apes (MF, FF, n/c?, scifi, non-human)
(C)Copyright 2004 - Shakes Peer2B
shakes_peer2b@NONOsbcglobal.net
(remove 'NONO' from the above address to contact me)

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Shakes_Peer2B/
http://storiesonline.net/library/author.php?name=Shakes_Peer2B
________

"Planetfall, Captain!" Bill's voice came over the intercom, "And they're 
hailing us!"

"Coming!"

I closed my terminal, bookmarking my place in the log and made my way to 
the command deck.

"Any sign of the CM?" I asked as I took my place in the command chair.

"There are hundreds of artificial objects orbiting the planet, Captain," 
Bill replied, "but none of them matches the mass or size of the CM very 
closely, and we're not getting a transponder blip."

"Have you answered their hail yet?"  I knew what protocol said, but it 
was best to be sure.

"We waited for you, Ma'am!"

"Very well, get them on com."

"Planet, this is the Golden Hind, just out from Earth in search of CM 
21000203-2, a colonial mission sent out from Earth almost two thousand 
years ago. Can you help?"

"Golden Hind, this is Space Traffic Control, we have no record of your 
registry or your configuration, please verify your identity and port of 
origin."

"Space traffic control, this is Golden Hind. We do not originate from 
any port on your planet. I say again, we are of Earth origin. Repeat: 
Earth origin."

"Ah, roger that Hind, advise you take up parking orbit at L5 until we 
figure out what to do with you. Do you need to land on planet?"

Well, the planet's single moon meant that L5 wouldn't be too hard to 
locate, once we had orbital data on the moon. Mary should have that for 
us shortly.

"Negative on the landing, Space Traffic Control, we have shuttles."

"Copy you have shuttles, Hind. What is the purpose of your visit?"

Bureaucracies are the same everywhere, I guess.

"I say again, Space Traffic Control, we are in search of colonial 
missions sent out from Earth some two thousand Earth years ago. 
Specifically, we expected to find descendents of colonists on this 
planet from the mission designated CM 21000203-2.  Are you descendents 
of those colonists?"

"Hold one, Hind."

Apparently, some sort of discussion was going on in Space Traffic Control.

"Ah, that information is unavailable at this time, Hind.  However, your 
senior officers are requested to attend a briefing with the Planetary 
Government."

"Roger, Space Traffic Control. Please blip landing coordinates and 
instructions on this frequency.  What do you call this planet?"

"This is Sanctuary, Hind. The President and senior members of his staff 
will meet with your senior officers at... 1800 hours, at the decon exit 
from the spaceport."

"Roger, Space Traffic Control.  We'll need local time and clock sync data."

"Roger Hind. Will include in data packet. Squirting NOW!"

"Packet received, Space Traffic Control, decoding..."  Bill said, "Ah, 
Space Traffic Control, you could speed this process for us if you'd send 
the private key..."

"Negative, Hind." the voice on the other end replied, "Strictly against 
policy to send private keys in clear."

"Roger, Space Traffic Control, wait one."

Mary was already working on it. Dual key encryption was an outmoded form 
of data security and it took less than a minute to break. Still, that 
was an eternity in modern computing time.

"Got it, Bill." Mary said in a sultry voice. Either Bill had been 
playing with her response characteristics, or the AI was getting WAY too 
fond of my coms officer.

"That's a Roger on the data packet, Space Traffic Control. We are 
synchronizing clocks and entering nav coordinates!"

"What! Uh, Golden Hind please repeat your last. I copy that you have 
decrypted the data packet without the private keys!"

"That's a roger on your copy, Space Traffic Control. We have decrypted 
the packet."  Bill was showing off, now, even though it was Mary who did 
the real work.

"Uh, roger, Hind! See you at 1800 hours... Space Traffic Control, out!"

Before the speaker released his mike button, he could be heard talking 
to someone in the background: "How the hell did they do that?!"

"Golden Hind out!" Bill cut off the channel and turned to me wearing a 
smug expression.

It only took a few minutes observation on Mary's part to decipher 
relative orbits accurately enough to locate L5.  This stable point 
between the orbits of the moon and the planet already had a couple of 
occupants. One looked like an observatory, the other, some kind of 
scientific platform.  Neither challenged us or even gave notice of our 
presence.

The shuttle ride down was almost like landing at an Earth spaceport. 
Bureaucrats though they may have been, the Sanctuarians were efficient 
at handling ground-to-orbit and orbit-to-ground traffic.

The decontamination procedures were pretty good too, but, just to be 
sure, Gail supplemented the recommended meds with some from her own kit.

There was a delegation waiting for us as we exited the decon station, 
all male, all nude except for pouches strung from belts or shoulder 
straps.  Instead of the excited greeting we expected, however, what we 
got was:

"You've got WOMEN with you?!" the apparent leader of the delegation 
exploded, "Well I hope to hell you brought dildoes, at least!"

Trying to remain calm, I said, "I'm Cecilia Barnes, Captain of the 
Golden Hind. All we were told was that you wanted to meet with the 
senior officers, so here we are."

"What nincompoop told them to come down here and didn't warn them about 
the apes?" the grey-haired gentleman grumbled. "Are there any stores in 
the port that sell dildoes?"

The entire entourage mumbled among themselves for a while, eventually 
dissolving into a mass of head-shaking.

"Would someone please explain what the problem is?" I said politely, 
though I could tell my blood pressure was going up. "Perhaps if we know, 
we can help with the solution."

"Sorry, Captain Barnes." the spokesman for the group said, "I'm 
forgetting why we are here. I'm President Guzman. Welcome to Sanctuary! 
We've never had anyone visit from another planet before. This is indeed 
a great honor!"

"Thank you Mr. President." I shook his hand, "Now, would someone please 
explain about dildoes and apes?"

"Oh, yes!" Guzman replied, "Well, they're not really apes, of course. 
They are an indigenous species that the original colonists thought 
resembled apes on earth. I, personally, wouldn't know, but the name stuck."

"So what do these indigenes have to do with women and dildoes?" Even 
though I had more information, I was even more confused.

"Well, you see," Guzman explained, "unlike humans, the apes have three 
separate sexes. The smallest, and most common of their sexes is actually 
a neuter that acts as an incubator for the offspring of the males and 
females. First the females deposit their eggs inside the neuter, then a 
male deposits his sperm. The apes are not very smart, and to them, our 
females look like neuters."

"Why?" I really was curious, "What differentiates neuters from males and 
females?"

"The neuters have no phallic projection." Another voice spoke up, then 
stuck out his hand to be shaken,"Dr. Nigel Mencke! I'm head of the 
Planetary Science Institute.  I specialize in native biology."

"How do you do, Doctor?" I replied politely, "But what does the lack of 
a phallus have to do with anything?"

"Well, you see," said the doctor, "the females locate a neuter by sight, 
but their brains are not very discriminating.  Any biped without a 
phallus, to them, is an egg repository.  Females, you see, are equipped 
with a phallic shaped ovipositor.  Males, on the other hand, seek out 
'ripe' neuters by smell.  Once the eggs have been deposited, their smell 
clings to the carrier until a male fertilizes them.  The young then 
gestate within the neuter's body until they give birth to live babies. 
It's all very fascinating!"

"Fascinating it may be," I said, "but I still don't see..." but then I did!

"Of course! 'Any biped without a phallus will do'!" I said, "So a woman 
can be raped by a female indigene, having the eggs deposited inside her, 
then raped again by a male, to fertilize the eggs!"

Gail caught on too, "So women wear strap-ons to simulate having a 
phallus and avoid being attacked by the females! Clever!  But why don't 
you just keep the indigenes out of spaces where humans are?"

Guzman and the rest looked at us in horror.

"This is THEIR planet!" the president exclaimed, "We are only guests 
here!  Our ancestors remembered too well how their ancestors destroyed 
Earth and many of its plants and animals, and they instilled in us the 
sacrosanct nature of the indigenes and the other native species.  If we 
choose to live on their planet, then we need to fit in with them, not 
the other way around!  That's why we do all our mining and manufacturing 
off-planet."

"So you go around with your dicks hanging out and what, keep the women 
locked up?" I asked, incredulously.

"Oh, no, Ms. Barnes!" the President said, "Women play an important role 
in our society, it's just that they, especially, have had to find ways 
to live with the apes.  Now, to be honest, some don't even bother trying 
to fool them.  Some enjoy the occasional extra-species ravishment, and 
others just think it's too inconvenient to strap on a dildo every time 
they go out.  Still others think its immoral to fool the natives with 
dildoes and refuse to wear them on principle."

"I see." I did, but there were still other questions to be answered, 
"Tell, me, why aren't we surrounded by these apes right now?"

"Oh, well," Dr. Mencke answered, "For some reason, the natives have no 
problem entering a building via an archway or a doorway with no door, 
but they will not go through an opening that has a door, even if it is 
secured in the open position. Therefore, when we want a place where they 
can't go, we simply make sure it has doors on it."

"Can a woman expect to be attacked every time she goes out?" Gail asked.

"It happens frequently, and there are no guarantees." The scientist 
replied, "One can usually tell when a female is ready to deposit her 
eggs, because she has a permanent erection until she finds a suitable 
repository.  Not to put too fine a point on it, but even wearing a 
dildo, a woman is safer not wearing clothing.  The apes have begun to 
recognize clothing as an artificial covering that our women, or to them, 
our neuters, wear.  They grow quite violent if they need to make a 
deposit and there is clothing in the way.  Wearing a dildo over clothing 
confuses them.  Some now see clothing as that frustrating covering some 
neuters have, and ignore the phallus.  Others see only the phallus and 
think its another female."

"So a woman is safest going about nude, wearing a strap-on. Hmmm!" I 
tried to think.

Most of the women on board our ship had dildoes of some kind, since 
off-duty sex was one of the best ways to kill time, and some of those 
were strap-ons, but we usually didn't bring them with us when going to 
visit a new planet for the first time.

"Uh, Captain," Gail said, "May I have a word?"

She took me aside and whispered in my ear.

"I, uh, have a confession to make." she blushed as she spoke, "I, uh, 
was hoping to get together with Bill on liberty, and well, you know the 
kinds of kinky stuff he gets into.  Anyway, I've got my strap-on in my bag."

"Well, you'd better get it out." I said, "At least YOU can be safe!"

"Um, well, actually, I was thinking that you should wear it, Captain." 
she said, "It wouldn't do for the leader of our crew to be accosted by a 
sex-crazed ape, now would it?"

"I can't do that!" I said, "It's your dildo, and you should wear it!"

"But I insist!" Gail replied, "And besides, if I do get attacked, I'll 
be able to write it up for the scientific journals back on Earth. 
You're the captain. You need to deal with these people. I'll deal with 
the apes, okay?"

With that, she reached into her bag and pulled out a large strap-on. 
Damn! What the hell was she planning to do to Bill on that liberty? 
Prepare him to be screwed by a stallion?

"It seems, gentleman, that we have one dildo among us." I said, "The 
good doctor has insisted that I wear it, so if you will give us a 
moment...?"

"Of course." Guzman replied.

They neither turned away, nor paid us any particular attention as the 
three of us disrobed and placed our clothing in our bags. Gail helped me 
into the straps of the dildo, and soon we were as ready as we could get.

"Lead on, gentlemen!" I said, reflecting that anywhere else in the 
galaxy this get-up would have outraged the planetary delegation. Here, 
they seemed relieved to see it.

It was actually a fairly short walk to the government building and the 
climate was pleasantly warm, even though the orbital data we had 
gathered said that this part of the planet was in winter.  There were a 
number of indigenes about, and Dr. Mencke pointed out several neuters, 
and showed us the differences between males and females.

They did resemble apes in form, particularly the great apes of the 
African continent that had nearly been wiped out around the time the 
colonial missions were getting underway.  That sort of insanity had 
stopped only after several other species had become extinct. 
Fortunately, the great apes had survived, thanks to the help of 
scientists and conservation groups.

The one female we saw with an erection found a neuter of her own 
species, and we watched as she forced herself on the neuter.  Not that 
the neuter seemed to mind, it merely complied with the female's demands.

A few minutes later, after the female and the neuter parted ways, a 
large male came sniffing around, and soon had his turn.  This time, the 
neuter squealed and squirmed on the male's much larger phallus.

"Is that pain or pleasure?" I asked the scientist, as we continued our 
journey to the Planetary Government building.

"As nearly as we can determine," he replied, "a little of both! 
Certainly, human females report that the males stretch them painfully, 
but once the stretching is done, they seem to enjoy it.  Some have even 
been known to go seeking indigenous sex when their human partners failed 
to satisfy them.  There are even a few xenophiles who won't have any 
other kind of sex.  We've had to restrict such activities somewhat to 
keep from reducing the indigenous population too much."

"Reducing the population?" I asked, "How does that happen?"

"Human body temperature and chemistry is incompatible with the native 
fertilization processes. When a human female is involved, no offspring 
results." He lectured, "Therefore, we have to restrict the competition, 
so to speak. If too many eggs get planted in the barren bodies of human 
females, not enough indigenes are born to keep the species viable."

I was more than a little surprised by the relatively primitive wooden 
structures of the human habitation.  Despite the fairly modern 
spaceport, the surrounding concentration of structures could hardly be 
called anything but a large village.

When I broached the subject, as diplomatically as I could, President 
Guzman smiled and waved expansively.

"What you see is a triumph of human-indigene cooperation!" He said 
proudly, "We want to make as little negative impact on the planet as 
possible, so we enlist the aid of the natives.  They roam the forests 
and notify us when dead trees are found, then help us haul them to 
wherever building is underway.  Since they feed off the bark of healthy 
trees, this helps keep their forests healthy and provides us with 
building materials.  Any mining or manufacturing we need to do is done 
in space, and the finished goods brought back here.  There are very few 
powered vehicles on this planet, Captain. Most travel is on foot or by 
cart.  The apes apparently see us as part of their community, and even 
though they think we're strange for wanting these boxes to live in, they 
help us with the hauling of materials and the heavy lifting."

"So you can communicate with them?" I asked, "Why don't you just tell 
them you don't want to participate in sex with them?"

"That's a little hard to do when there's no word for 'no' in their 
language.  Even if you try to get them to do something they can't or 
won't do, they just ignore the request and go on with whatever they can 
do or want to do."

The meeting in the government building went well and we learned that 
these were, indeed, the descendents of CM 21000203-2.  They were, 
apparently, also descendents of CM 21021103-1, the second mission having 
made planetfall just about the time the children of the first mission 
were reaching adulthood.

The humans on Sanctuary, as with most of the colonies we had so far 
discovered, were hungry for news of the planet they only knew from their 
history lessons, and though their need wasn't as dire as other planets, 
they were happy for the chance to acquire 'fresh' DNA.

Bill, Gail, and I discussed plans for liberty and possible trade 
strategies for Sanctuary on the way back to the spaceport, and were so 
engrossed in the discussion that we forgot about the apes - at least 
until Gail screamed as a hairy female grabbed her and bent her over!

The expression on her face was almost comical as, without preamble, the 
female forced its ovipositor into Gail's unprepared sex! Fortunately, 
the ovipositor, as was explained to us, exudes its own lubricant when it 
gets ready to deposit its eggs, but the sudden stretching must have come 
as a shock to our ship's doctor!

Scientist that she was, once over the initial shock, Gail kept up a 
running commentary as the female pummeled her from behind.

"Oh, damn!" she said, "What an entry! She's big, but not too big - maybe 
twenty centimeters! There's a strange, knobby sort of texture to her 
ovipositor, like balls stacked end to end. That, UNGH, that does 
wonderful things to my G-spot! I can see why some women would grow to 
enjoy this! Wait! She's pushing harder, and those knobs seem to be 
travelling up the shaft! Just how big ARE those eggs, anyway?"

Our escort back to the spaceport smiled and said, "Oh, I guess Dr. 
Mencke didn't mention that.  Those eggs are about an inch and a half 
long and about an inch in diameter.  It's their stacking up inside the 
ovipositor that makes it go rigid, like filling a sock with balls.  Once 
they're all out, it's just a floppy tube again."

"My God!" Gail exclaimed, "I can feel each one as she spits it into me!"

The female gave a few spasmodic jerks, and just as suddenly as she 
entered, she withdrew, wandering away as if nothing had happened.

"I still feel full!" Gail said as she straightened, "How long do I have 
to keep these things inside of me?"

"Well, once a male has fertilized them," our guide said, "you can flush 
'em out anytime.  Wouldn't advise doing that before a male gets to you, 
though.  If you flush them out unfertilized, you still smell like you've 
got eggs waiting to be fertilized, and you'll get attacked by every male 
you meet until that smell finally wears off in about six months.  It's 
the combination of the male sperm and the eggs that changes the scent so 
they don't keep coming after you.  That's why some to the xenophiles, 
especially the size queens, will let a female get to em, then flush out 
the eggs before a male comes along.  It circumvents the species 
preservation rules because they're not carrying eggs, but it still 
attracts horny males - like that one!"

He pointed as huge knuckle-dragging brute rounded the corner, sniffing 
the wind.

"Oh, shit!" Gail cried, as she saw what else he was dragging, "This is 
going to HURT!"

"You might want to make sure he gets it in the right place, doc." the 
young Sanctuarian with us said, "If he goes up your poop chute, he won't 
get the eggs fertilized and you'll have another one after you 'fore long!"

"Thanks, I think!" Doc said dubiously, as she gingerly grasped the 
enormous black tool that poked between her legs and aimed it at her 
recently ravaged slit.

The male was surprisingly gentle, perhaps because his 'neuter' had hold 
of his favorite toy, but once she got him socketed, and released him, he 
wasted no time!

Enormous black paws, covered on their backs with silvery brown fur, 
grasped Gail's tiny waist and jerked her all the way onto his pole!

In spite of herself, Gail screamed!

"God DAMN that's big!" she cried through tense jaw muscles, "That's got 
to be more than half again the size of the female! Hey! What's that! 
What's going up my ass?"

"Didn't Dr. Mencke tell you guys anything?", our guide said, "The males 
need to make sure they distribute their sperm over all the eggs.  To do 
that, they kind of need to stir the eggs around, but the neuters keep 
trying to pull away, so they have this extra appendage that goes into 
the neuter's ass and swells up like a balloon! That guarantees 'em 
plenty of time to hose down all the eggs."

"Well that's a damm big balloon!" Gail cried in a strained voice, 
"There's not a lot of room in there with that big fuck stick in my 
vagina! Holy shit! The damn cock's just kind of dancing around inside 
me! I guess that's the part about stirring up the eggs. UNGH! Jesus! 
That, uh, feels, uh! Weird!"

I looked at Gail's abdomen and it looked as though a small animal had 
gotten trapped in there and panicked! Scientist or no, there was no way 
her body was going to ignore that! Screeching bloody murder, my ship's 
doctor had a mind-bending orgasm right there on one of the main 
thoroughfare's of the planetary capitol! That didn't deter the ape, 
however. Knowing that there was now nowhere for her to go, he released 
Gail with his hands, and to our eyes, merely stood behind her looking bored.

Gail's abdomen and her reactions told a different story, however! That 
cock continued dancing within her, and she kept cumming! For a good five 
minutes (standard), my ship's doctor and sometimes lover, writhed, 
screamed, and spasmed on that damned gorilla-like being's cock!

Finally, I guess he was satisfied that all the eggs were fertilized, and 
the balloon in Gail's ass deflated.  She fell to her knees with a slurp, 
as that humonguous ape-dick pulled from within her.  To my astonishment, 
the male grunted a few sounds that seemed suspiciously like words as he 
turned to leave.

Even our guide stood open-mouthed as we watched the broad back depart.

"THAT was unprecedented!" he gaped, "They NEVER talk to the neuters!"

"What did he say?" I asked.

"He said 'Fun! This one loud!' or something to that effect!" he reached 
down to help Gail to her feet before continuing, "I guess you were about 
the best fuck he's had in a while!"

"Can I get these damned eggs out of me now?" Gail rasped.

"Better not do it in public." Our guide said, "The apes want to hold a 
wake every time they find eggs on the ground, especially if they've 
already been spermed. Wait 'til you get into the port and you can use 
the nozzle in the ladies room to flush 'em out."

We left our guide at the door to the port building and Gail and I made 
straight for the ladies room.  Sure enough, each stall had a hose ending 
in a long nozzle, and a dispenser on the wall doled out sanitary covers 
for the nozzle.

Afterward, Gail needed a little help getting back to the shuttle, but 
back on the Golden Hind, her own diagnostics revealed nothing worse than 
some minor abrasions.  She judged the decon shot that she had taken at 
the spaceport would take care of any potential infection, and settled in 
for a long nap.

The pre-liberty crew briefing generated more than the usual crop of 
questions, since the story of Gail's ravishment had spread like 
wildfire, but I thought I got through it fairly well.

To my surprise, the only real trouble my crew got into during our stay, 
was numerous violations of the species preservation laws!  Apparently, 
all that sex with humans was getting boring...

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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