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Archive name: m01.txt (Mdom/F, size, exh, bond, sci-fi)
Authors name: JackBro (jackbro_99@yahoo.com)
Story title : Mission to a New World - Part 1

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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
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Mission to a New World - 1 (Mdom/F, size, bond, sci-fi) 
by JackBro (jackbro_99@yahoo.com)

***

An X-rated science fiction story. Debbie and Brian are 
two explorers from Earth sent to an alien planet to 
recover a crashed surveillance satellite. On the surface 
live the Longtons, a humanoid, pre-industrial revolution 
culture where the women are subservient to the males. 
Debbie soon discovers why the women willingly allow 
themselves to be subservient, and in the end she wants
to stay.

***

Chapter 1: The Mission D-6

Warning: The following story is fiction, and the acts 
depicted in the story should remain fiction. It is 
intended for the entertainment of mature adults only. Be 
advised explicit sex is contained within and should not 
be read by minors.

***

"Come in Ms. Kitlras," Captain Rileymen offers. "Have a 
seat. We have much to discuss, and I think you will find 
it most interesting."

His office looks better furnished than my apartment. A 
couch sits along one wall, a desk in front of the other. 
Large paintings hang on the wall; all display scenes of 
ships and seas. An end table has one of those antique 
sailing ships in a bottle. It is strange to see such 
luxury so far out in space, but then Captain Rileymen had 
many years to collect it. He is a graying old man now, 
approaching retirement, but I think he must have once 
been a young ensign on the seas of earth in the infancy 
of planetary space travel.

"Debbie," I introduce myself, attempting to sound 
confident when we shake hands. "Please, call me Debbie. 
I'm a civilian scientist you know; not an officer."

"Then Debbie it is," The Captain agrees. "I know you're a 
scientist, but I must say that you don't look like a 
scientist."

I am not sure if I should take this as a compliment or an 
insult. I suppose he expected some preppy, stern old lady 
with her hair tied tight in a bow at the top of her head. 
Instead, I am a young woman, 34-years of age, short in 
stature, with brunette hair that comes half way down my 
back.

He motions to the two chairs sitting in front of his 
desk. They look like they are made from finely lacquered 
wood. So does his desk, although I figure both must only 
be plastic simulations. Even a person of Captain 
Rileymen's esteem could not gather the resources to get 
real wood this far into space.

"Now Debbie, do you know why you are here?" He asks me. I 
notice he properly waits for me to sit first. He is the 
perfect gentleman, nurtured in the romantic traditions.

"No one told me anything, but I think I know." I answer. 
"I suspect it has something to do with the lost 
satellite."

"Excellent deductive capability," He speaks a thought. 
"You are correct, but that is only the beginning."

He fumbles with something in his desk and then hands over 
an orange colored file. "This explains the mission, 
provided you care to accept it."

I take it with interest. Orange means Secret. Higher than 
Classified but lower than Top Secret, it sits in the 
middle of the echelon of classified information. My 
security clearance allows me to read Secret, but I seldom 
get the opportunity. On those rare occasions when I do, 
it is like candy to my eyes. I feel an urge to look 
inside.

"You'll have plenty of time to go through the file 
later," He speaks before I get the chance. "You can take 
it with you. For now, let me explain."

I let him, of course, and lay the folder on my lap 
unopened.

"As you already suspect, we lost a satellite," He dumps 
his big arms on his desk. "Two days ago we lost contact 
with Spy-3. No warning signs. No messages. It simply 
stopped transmitting."

He is right. I already know this. As a research 
scientist, it is my job to study the images radioed back 
from the three surveillance satellites orbiting the 
planet. The pictures from Spy-3 stopped in mid-frame two 
days ago, just like he said.

"What you don't know is that it dropped into the 
atmosphere," He continues. "The Engineers don't know why, 
but they theorize one of its maneuvering thrusters stuck 
in the open position. It lost orbital velocity, which 
caused it to lose altitude, and it fell into the 
atmosphere. We just located the spot where it crashed. 
You have the details in your hand."

I never could be patient. I undo the clasp of the 
envelope and pull out the lap-screen computer when he 
pauses. When I touch it, a keyboard appears on the 
display. I have been around classified information enough 
to know this is where I am supposed to enter my personal 
identification code and password.

"Most of the satellite burned up in the atmosphere," 
Captain Rileymen speaks uninterrupted as I page through 
the file. "But it looks like the most dangerous segment 
survived - at least partially. The nuclear reactor core 
landed largely intact but heavily damaged. The first set 
of pictures show it resting at the bottom of a crater, 
but later images show it moved. We do not know where it 
was moved to, but we assume it was to one of the 
surrounding Longton villages. Naturally, we are concerned 
about its plutonium fuel causing injury to anyone who 
might choose to investigate. We also have concern about 
its advanced technology creating a danger to the pre-
industrial culture living on the surface. The Longtons 
are an inherently curious people, and we expect they will 
eventually want to investigate it."

The "Longtons" that he talks about are an alien 
civilization that inhabits the planet. I know a lot about 
them because it is my job to study them. It is the reason 
I live in deep space and the reason I analyze satellite 
imagery.

"I would say there's a near certain chance they will try 
to open the container," I tell Rileymen, assuming he 
wants my expert opinion on the subject. "They are an 
inherently curious culture, much like Humans of about 300 
AD. However, even more dangerous, they are a religiously 
fragmented community. There's danger they might discover 
the satellite and treat it as sign of a deity; a God..."

Rileymen puts up his hand to stop me in mid-sentence. 
"That's not why I called you into my office."

I sit before him confused.

He explains. "Our mission is to research on a non-
interference basis. That is why we use spy satellites. 
Some say this is wrong. It is an evasion of privacy, even 
dishonest, but it allows us to look down upon the planet 
without interfering with the natural order of things. The 
crash, however, presents a problem. It creates a 
potential for interference, and we need to take action 
against it."

I look at him confused. I agree with everything he says, 
but who am I to do anything about it?

"We plan to organize an expedition down to the planet's 
surface," I think Rileymen reads my mind. "The plan is to 
land at night in the central desert, away from any 
substantial Longton population. The expedition will then 
travel first by vehicle and later by foot into the 
Longton village closest to the crash site. You will pose 
as visiting travelers from a far off land. The mission is 
to interface with the Longton culture, discover as much 
as you can about the crash, and then take whatever steps 
are necessary to prevent any damage."

I notice he uses the word "you" - as in "me" or "myself." 
Me, Debbie Kitlras. At first I think he makes an 
inadvertent slip of the tongue, but from the way he looks 
at me I can tell he has not.

"You don't mean?" I look at him in disbelief. "Not me! I 
can't possibly go on such an expedition!"

"Why not?" He questions simply. "I'm told you are the 
most qualified expert in the lab. You selected the 
Longtons for your master's thesis. You've worked at the 
analysis lab for two years. They tell me you are better 
than anyone else at speaking their language."

"Well, yes but..." I start to say. What he says is true, 
but...

"I am even told," Rileymen interrupts. "That you 
criticized the past expeditions. You voiced objections to 
the director about your training of the Military teams. 
You said it would be more valuable if a civilian research 
scientist was included in any future expedition."

I feel embarrassed. "That's true, but I didn't mean 
myself," I explain. "I said it in a moment of 
desperation." Two previous expeditions traveled down to 
the planet's surface, but that was years ago. The teams 
consisted of Military professionals with months of 
preparation. "I am just a civilian scientist."

"This is your chance to put your money where your mouth 
is," He continues as though he does not hear me. "We need 
to remove the satellite, and we need to remove it as soon 
as possible. The longer it sits on the surface, the more 
danger it could potentially create. There is no time to 
gather a Military team together and do months of 
training. We need someone down on the planet's surface in 
a week; if not sooner."

A buzzer rings on his desk. It interrupts his speech.

"I said not to be disturbed!" He practically yells into 
the phone. I feel sorry for whoever might be on the other 
end, but then he nods and calms back down again.

"I need to go for a few minutes," Captain Rileymen 
apologizes. "I'm very sorry, but something's come up that 
demands my immediate attention. Why don't you stay here 
and read through the rest of the file. I think you will 
find it very interesting."

He rises before I can object. He leaves me alone in his 
office. I am left sitting in confusion and disbelief.

The news overloads me. The information is too much to 
process at one time. It is too shocking; too much out of 
the ordinary of my every day life. I am accustomed to 
obediently go to my job each day on the research station 
Crion, located on the dark side of the moon by the same 
name. At night I walk a few feet outside the lab to 
return to my quaint cabin to study and do my exercises. I 
have been on Crion for three months now, orbiting the 
Longton planet and secretly conducting my research. It is 
the same monotonous existence day after day after day, 
and now this.

It is not at all what I expected when I received the call 
to fly up to the Starship Cruiser Atlantis and meet with 
the Captain. I suspected he sought my advice on the lost 
satellite, but not to go down to the surface and pick it 
up myself. I need time to think.

I look through the rest of the secret folder and find it 
is worse than Rileymen lets on. One page shows an 
overhead picture of the crash site, no doubt taken from 
one of the two remaining satellites. I see a streak of 
burnt forest with a crater at one end. I think I even see 
a few Longtons looking down inside from the rim. 
Obviously, the plutonium remains safely intact inside the 
reactor. If it leaked out, the Longtons would already be 
dead. I can't help but think they soon will be. I know 
from my own studies that they will eventually crack open 
the reactor.

The next page shows the location of the crash site on a 
planetary map. It is near the central desert, which is 
good news. The Longtons do not dare venture into the 
central desert, so an expedition can easily make a 
landing close to the crash site. They will not have far 
to walk.

Another page is a written assessment of the situation. It 
speaks of the Longtons as a curious people who will 
almost certainly want to investigate the contents of the 
crater. If the reactor's plutonium core isn't open 
already, the assessment predicts it soon will be. I have 
to agree. Then it talks about the religious factions and 
mentions the same thing I told the Captain about the 
Longtons possible attempt to worship the satellite as a 
religious deity. I agree with everything it says. I could 
have written it myself, and maybe I even did write parts 
of it. Some of the sentences look as though they might 
have been pasted directly out of earlier reports.

The Longtons first came to my attention back at the 
University. According to the most popularly accepted 
theory, they descended from the same ancient seed as 
humans, planted by an unknown and very advanced 
civilization some 1 million years ago. This means they 
greatly resemble Homo sapiens in appearance. Their bodies 
enclose the same basic structure: The same double arms 
and legs, the same two eyes, two ears, and a single nose. 
Everything of importance looks the same, but only in 
general terms. As with any two humanoid species separated 
by a hundred light years distance and million years of 
evolution, subtle differences exist.

The two most noticeable differences exist in the facial 
area. The first is a flattened Longton nose that makes it 
look as though they have all just been punched squarely 
in the face. The second is hair just above the nose. It 
is a single eyebrow that goes straight across the 
forehead. Another difference derives from height. The 
Longtons live on a planet with 80% the gravity of Earth. 
This makes them grow taller. The average Longton male is 
about 20% taller than the average human male, although 
this only occurs with the males. For some reason, Longton 
females tend to be slightly shorter than human females. 
No one has yet been able to explain why.

More important differences are cultural, which is the 
reason for my research. My job is to study how a 
civilization totally foreign to Humans can live, 
communicate, interact, and do the thousand other things 
we take for granted every day. I often think my job is no 
different than the National Geographic researches who 
first went to study the ancient stone-age tribes of the 
jungles of Magascascar in the 19th century. My only 
advantage is technology. While they wore cameras around 
their necks, I rely on cameras that look down from 
orbiting satellites.

I also listen. Several years ago - back when I was still 
in graduate school - humans made two high-risk 
expeditions down to the planet's surface. A group of 
three young men received plastic surgery and several 
months of specialized training on the Longton culture and 
scientific research methods. All three were military men, 
specially selected because they were quick to learn and 
strong enough to defend themselves in case they got into 
trouble. They landed on the planet's surface, traveled to 
a distant Longton village, and posed as fellow Longton 
men traveling from a far-off land. Although unable to 
speak the Longton language, they made face-to-face 
contact and were able to communicate on a limited basis. 
The expedition taught us things we never could have 
learned solely from satellite imagery.

Lucky for me, the expedition also planted microphones. 
While on the surface, they buried miniature microphones 
under the soil to listen to the Longton conversations in 
the hope of deciphering the language. It is these 
microphones that got me my job, and most of them remain 
operating to this very day. I've always had a gift for 
languages, and the language of the Longtons is no 
different. Called Longtonese, I first assisted and then 
later became its foremost expert. I now translate the 
language for others.

***

"Sorry about the interruption," Captain Rileymen walks 
back into the room. He walks in quickly, as though he is 
in a hurry. He appears out of breath.

"As I was saying, we need to send an emergency expedition 
down to the surface," He talks fast from behind his desk. 
"Your purpose will be to find the satellite's reactive 
core and dispose of it. This may be done by burial or by 
returning with the core. You are given leeway to decide 
for yourself once you reach the surface and study the 
landing site. We know the core is fundamentally safe 
because we witnessed Longtons in close proximity. They 
physically moved it with no ill effects. The reason we 
chose you for this mission is obvious. We have no time to 
train someone new, and you speak Longtonese fluently."

I accept this, but his conclusion is wrong. "Not 
fluently," I correct. "And I only translate it. I have 
never spoken it to a live Longton before."

"At least you speak it better than anyone else," He 
proposes.

I nod my head. We both know this to be true.

"In any case, it will be sufficient to conduct the 
mission. You will pose as Longtons from a distant land. 
You are on a quest for knowledge. This should give you 
sufficient cover to make up for any language 
deficiencies."

I nod again. It is the same cover used by the previous 
expeditions. I realize if the previous expeditions made 
it without speaking any Longtonese, I should have no 
problem.

"The choice on whether or not to accept the mission is 
yours." Captain Rileymen offers me with his hands. "I 
need not disguise the dangers involved. This is 
especially true for you. You, being a woman."

I suddenly remember. The thought rushes into my head like 
a bolt of lightening. I should have realized it the 
moment he first suggested I go down to the surface, but I 
guess I suffered from information overload. It is the one 
thing about the Longtons that disgusts me.

"As you know," The Captain tells me what I already know. 
"The Longton culture is still very primitive when it 
comes to relation between the sexes. As I am sure you are 
aware from your studies, men are in charge and the women 
are essentially the equivalent of servants."

I know this very well. In fact, I know it exceedingly 
well, and it is the one thing I vehemently dislike about 
the Longtons. Captain Rileymen's use of the word 
"servant" is actually too kind. "Slave" would be a lot 
more accurate. Although not physically abused - at least 
not as far as we can determine - Longton women are 
treated more like property than real people. It is the 
ultimate male chauvinistic society.

I try to push this aside. By inherent definition - as I 
have to continuously remind myself - alien cultures are 
supposed to be different. Most of the time it comes from 
the way they look or the way they act. For the Longtons, 
it happens to concern the relation between the sexes. A 
colleague once told me that a visitor might be equally 
disgusted with Humans of the 17th or 18th centuries if 
they witnessed the subjugation of African Negroes. I must 
continually remind myself of this as I study the 
Longtons, and now I remind myself again.

"I understand sir," I try to act like his explanation is 
no surprise. "I will have to play the part of a female 
servant."

The Captain nods. This seems to please him.

"Then you are also aware," He goes on. "You will need to 
blend in with the alien culture. This means, of course, 
you will have to dress like them."

I momentarily forgot about this as well, but now it comes 
rushing back to me.

"You look as though this greatly disturbs you," The 
Captain notices before I can recover.

"No, not really," I almost choke on my own words. "I mean 
it does, a little, I guess, but I know all about it. 
After all, I see them every day on the satellite images," 
I let out a nervous laugh. "I guess I've just become so 
accustomed to the way the Longtons dress that I forgot 
about it for a moment."

"I hope it does not disturb you," He emphasizes. "Because 
it can't! If you are going to blend in with their 
culture, you need to dress like them."

"Of course," I agree with fake confidence, remembering 
the clothing of the Longton women - or more specifically, 
the lack thereof. I realize this is even truer in the 
southern desert region where the satellite crashed.

The planet of Longton is hot. It experiences temperatures 
a lot warmer than Earth. It is so warm that plants and 
animals only exist at the poles. The entire equatorial 
region is one big, massive, desert; a thousand times 
bigger than the Sierra. As the sea covers two-thirds the 
surface of Earth, so a desert covers three-quarters of 
the planet Longton. The Longtons live north of this 
desert, north of 50 degrees latitude, in what would be 
roughly equivalent to Northern Canada or Siberia on 
Earth. But even here, the heat remains. The Longton 
climate at the Arctic Circle is roughly equivalent to the 
equator on Earth.

People who live in a warm climate naturally wear little 
clothing. It is true on Earth, and it is true on Longton. 
And it is especially true of the women, given their 
subservient cultural position. The women, in fact, walk 
around in the bare minimal of clothing. This is one of 
the reasons why I got the job to study them to begin 
with. The sparsely clad women keep distracting the men 
from doing their jobs.

"I do not mean to embarrass you," The Captain interrupts 
my agonizing thoughts. "There is no way for me to say 
this delicately, but this expedition may be especially 
difficult for you, given your..." He brings his hands to 
his own chest. "Let's say, your physical makeup."

I know what Rileymen means. He is referring to my size. 
That is, he hints at my big boobs. I am a short girl with 
ample breasts. Longton attire will leave little to the 
imagination.

"I understand Sir," I try to retain my composure against 
the unavoidable embarrassment.

"In fact, the very reason you are best suited for this 
mission is because of your physical makeup. As I'm sure 
you already know from your studies, men with the highest 
status are often served by the women with the largest..."

He does not need to continue. It is another oddity of the 
male dominated Longton society. Female breasts are used 
as a way to display status. The leader of a village 
nearly always has the mate with the largest boobs. The 
same is true for an unusually rich or successful man. My 
own double-D cups means my male companion would be a very 
important man, but that assumes I will have a male 
companion.

"Can I assume I will be with someone?"

"Of course," The Captain fills in the blanks. "A woman 
traveling alone on the Longton planet would instantly 
arise suspicion. It would be culturally incorrect, and it 
might also be dangerous. You will be the female traveling 
companion of Lt. Stockton."

"Brian?" I questioned. "Do you mean Lt. Brian Stockton?"

The Captain nods.

"But sir, he only just arrived a few weeks ago. He 
doesn't have any experience."

"But he is the most suitable," Rileymen does not appear 
to hear my objection. "He is an ex-Marine, specifically 
assigned to your analysis lab to learn as much about the 
Longtons as possible. It was our intent to eventually use 
him on another mission down to the planet's surface once 
we got approval from the politicians back on Earth. He 
will just be going down a lot earlier than planned."

"But sir," I try to object. "A lot of others know a lot 
more about the Longton culture than Brian... I mean Lt. 
Stockton."

"I see you are already on a first name basis," Rileymen 
notes. "That is good. It will make the training go 
easier."

"Training?"

"You need to give Lt. Stockton - or Brian - a crash 
course on the Longton culture. Forget about the 
structured course. He needs to learn as fast as possible. 
The doctors tell me it takes 5 days for the swelling from 
the plastic surgery to go down. You will have that long 
to work with him."

"But Brian?" I continue to object. "Beg your pardon sir, 
but there's others in the lab who are a lot more 
deserving."

"But the others are all female," He points out. "Out of a 
staff of 32 personnel, I believe there are 30 who are 
female. And we can't very well send two females down 
there together."

His numbers are correct. That is one disadvantage of a 
lab full of women.

"The mission is yours if you want it," He tells me. "As I 
already hinted, we don't have much time. We need an 
answer right away. A doctor is already standing by in the 
infirmary. He tells me the operation will take about two 
hours, and you are on his schedule for tomorrow morning."

I feel a momentary desire to jump at the chance. I 
picture myself leaping up and telling him that I am 
honored to accept the mission. It is the opportunity of a 
lifetime, a chance to put my many years of study to the 
test. I often dreamed about going down to the surface and 
meeting a real live Longton. I feel stupid to resist.

Yet when the opportunity is thrust upon me, I hesitate. I 
feel only anxiety. I worry my knowledge is inadequate and 
my assumptions are all wrong. I can't help but imagine in 
my mind what it will feel like to walk around in the 
sparsely clad Longton clothing. I grow with trepidation.

"The mission is yours if you want it," Captain Rileymen 
offers me again. "Your acceptance will be a tremendous 
service to your country. It will even help to serve the 
Longton people, and you will probably save the lives of 
whatever Longtons eventually succeed in opening the 
reactor."

His words fall heavy on my mind.

"However, I will not disguise the fact some danger is 
involved," He argues against himself. "The mission is far 
from safe, and I am sure it will be very difficult. Many 
things could go wrong, including a radiation leak." 

I haven't considered this, and it frightens me. Even a 
small radiation leak could put me at a higher risk of 
cancer for the rest of my life.

"Do not accept right now," He cautions wisely. "I want 
you to check into the infirmary tonight so the doctors 
can conduct some tests. If all goes according to plan, 
you have until morning to make up your mind. You need to 
sleep on it and think it over very carefully. I obviously 
prefer you to accept, but you need to be certain for 
yourself. There will be no turning back."

I look up to see him standing. We are done. Rileymen is a 
busy man and has many other jobs to do.

"Thank you for the offer," I shake his hand. "It is a lot 
to consider."

I bid him goodbye and ask his secretary directions to the 
infirmary.

*** 

I laugh at Captain Rileymen's instructions to sleep on 
it. If he expects me to sleep, he is greatly mistaken. I 
lay wide-awake in bed. I lay on a hospital bed in the 
infirmary, dreading the morning and feeling confused and 
very hungry.

The doctors refused me anything to eat after they 
completed the physical. "It might have a negative effect 
on the operation," they told me; something to do with the 
drugs they will have to give me to perform the plastic 
surgery...provided I am still willing to go through with 
the surgery.

I still am not sure. There is a lot to consider.

There is the fear of failure. 'What if I can't speak the 
language well enough?' I ask myself. I never conversed 
with a Longton before. 'What if I do something stupid or 
make a mistake?' And there is the further danger of 
walking into a village contaminated with plutonium. 
Radiation cannot be ignored. I might have to walk around 
the rest of my life in fear of an increased risk of 
cancer.

But on the opposite side, it is the opportunity of a 
lifetime. It will be a chance to fulfill my curiosity and 
pose all my questions. It will be my only opportunity to 
test my knowledge of the Longtonese language and 
interface with the subjects of my study. I know I will 
never get a chance to go down to the surface again. Any 
future expeditions - assuming the politicians back on 
Earth even allow any future expeditions - will almost 
certainly be by all- male teams. They will never let a 
woman go except for the most dreadful circumstance.

Yet the very fact I am a woman scares me. I will have to 
live in a society where the men are masters. I will be 
merely a slave, forced into subjugation of my male owner, 
forced to wear the clothing of the Longton women.

And then there is the clothing to consider. Longton 
clothing scares me, especially given my figure. I am not 
accustomed to wearing provocative clothing, yet on the 
surface of the planet I will be forced to wear little. 
The most clothing I will ever be able to wear is the 
equivalent of a small bikini.

Another problem is Brian. I couldn't voice my objection 
in front of Captain Rileymen because he would never 
understand, but I don't like Brian. The problem is that 
he's been trying to hit on me since the first day he got 
to Crion, probably because of my big boobs. I despise men 
who treat my boobs as a prize and my body like a piece of 
meat. I haven't known Brian for very long, yet I already 
get the impression he is a stereotypical young Marine who 
thinks he is God's gift to women. I have difficult time 
with him in the lab. On the surface, I know it will be 
much more challenging.

Still, Brian does have one redeeming feature. He has a 
tall, muscular build and handsome appearance; traits 
specifically selected so he would someday more easily fit 
in with the Longton men. This will make him look 
excellent, I know, when clothed in the attire worn by the 
Longton men, for their clothing is just as meager as the 
females. I like looking at men in loincloths.

To be continued...

Comments welcome (JackBro_99@Yahoo.com)

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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of the 
hands of children. They should be outside playing in the
sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 18