Batwoman meets Catwoman Part One
- 2 years ago
- 73
- 0
Nowhere Man: Book TwoChapter 34 free porn video
“Great! Your babies are all doing well, according to their mothers.” “Wonderful! I had best go visit them first, so that I don’t get in trouble for ignoring them.” This entailed an immediate procession of visits first to the wives with babies, with plenty of kisses and cuddles to both mother and child. Only then could John greet his other wives, new or not so new, pregnant or not. They were all seeking recognition by him of their wifely status, in the context of so many wives in one loving family group.
The wives from another world and time had their own concept of wife and family, while the locals had a broader conception of the same family structure. The locals had little bother with multiple wives, but the white women were still having to get their minds round a large polygamous family. None of the white women had any worry over being married to John or being his wife, but it surprised them that they were not upset over him having other wives and children.
John put it down primarily to the medical nanites having a target of an expanded population of children and grandchildren, so multiple wives or partners for John made the perfect route to obtain such a scenario end product. He was still surprised at the way the nanites had been programmed; probably in general terms towards increasing the population of their principal’s family without acrimony between the women. The action of pheromones must have been part of this hidden activity.
The local women saw multiple wives as a normal recognition of a man in a position of social power. Being a man of great power in this society automatically implied multiple wives and children, so that the man’s personal power could percolate down the generations to the ultimate benefit of the whole tribe. At least, that was the assumption in their tribal-based minds.
It was a simple calculation: Power plus procreation meant more eventual strength for the tribe as it expanded in numbers. The powerful head of the tribe lent itself to other families in the tribe similarly expanding the population. It was a theory with a modicum of truth, but depended on the Chief having the tribe’s future benefit as the ideal finale to his own sexual benefit.
The white wives came from a society where population growth was a problem, and where it was much preferable to keep child numbers down to one or two per couple. That was the mindset they had arrived with.
However, even assuming one child per white wife, John’s polygamous family would expand rapidly through the increasing number of children of native origin. On top of that simplicity, the local wives did not see one child as a desirable end result, in case that child did not survive long enough to mate and procreate. They saw many children, and in particular sons, as desirable. To them, having many children surviving to adulthood was their ideal, for past experience in the local society was that some of the babies would not survive the first few years, and some of the mothers would not survive many births either. It was recognised of one the facts of life where they lived. The new world of medical nanites protecting them and their children from most ailments was not built into their traditional and emotional life calculations.
John was in an impossible situation.
He was a man of his time, aware of the dangers of overpopulation, but was now living in a period where mankind was small in population size, thus high numbers of children were essential to allow for losses through animal depredation, accidents, and other killers such as human enemies apart from diseases that in the past swept away large numbers of the population.
He could not avoid this social pressure. It was also reinforced by his inbuilt male impetus to procreate with as many women as possible. The women from his own time were the ones who paid attention to the dangers of overpopulation, and they were right as regards the ability of a local ecosystem and food supply situation to feed the human population of this time.
Calculating from available food supplies, he had to be concerned with how his children would be fed as they grew up and became adults, ready to produce their own children. He needed to secure dependable food supplies for the future.
Childbirth was another question. Deaths of young women via the trials of childbirth might in the past have been viewed dispassionately as a limitation on population numbers, but his emotional mind refused to accept such losses as inevitable, as he saw them partly as the outcome of stupidly allowing young women to get pregnant before their bodies were developed enough to permit safe delivery of babies.
ëBecoming a woman’ must not be read as ëable to bear children’, when the body’s development did not align with that second assumption. This was why he tried to put off young women getting pregnant if at all possible. John was coming around to declaring that the minimum age for a woman to get pregnant should be fifteen, and blame the man if it should happen. If her husband refrains from full sex, she cannot get pregnant.
This could also encourage making the age for marriage eligibility raised to fifteen, but could he make that stick? How solid was the power of a Chief to lay down social rules? He must ask Numa that tricky question. Experience with other tribes suggested that a Chief was not as secure in his post as might have been assumed. Perhaps every Chief should have a protective support arrangement in the form of a military guard plus the backing of the tribal Shaman. The cost of military protection in a small tribe would probably restrict this to a single bodyguard, unless the Chief’s wives could receive training in self-defence such as he had introduced in the Mountain tribe. That had worked out well; might be worth making it standard.
As soon as possible, he ought to check out the downed mahogany trees and look for more that merited felling if they were in sites that allowed the timber to be retrieved without a great deal of effort. He wanted to be in a position to ask for material assistance from the northern-based time travellers, so becoming first to provide this kind of assistance to them would not go amiss. This was part of the reason for supplying timber for boatbuilding.
On that thought, he decided that getting news on batteries for his own use would be worthwhile. He asked Jean, as the one most ambulant, and she told him that Vickie and Sheila had got them all recharged some time ago, so every single one was ready for use. He did not intend to take the chainsaw for now, but wanted to know the position re battery power for any tasks that arose.
Artwork. Now, there was a matter worth enquiring into. The youngster Rosano had expressed interest in making art; he wondered if anyone had helped the boy with that. He recalled asking his women for help in encouraging artwork as a trade option, but had neglected to chase it up since.
He made a mental note to pursue that avenue as soon as possible.
So many of his women were nursing babies or were near to delivery that he could not expect them to make him a report. Raka was involved in the flavoured water container project, and many more of the tribe were occupied in simply running the tribe so that there was enough food, drink, fuel, clothing, etc.
Food. Now that was a matter of intense interest to him. In fact, at that moment he felt quite hungry. Distracted by this basic instinct, he moved himself to the nearest cook fire and asked the duty cook if there was any food ready for eating. She looked startled, but replied quickly.
“Yes, High Chief. We have a meat and vegetable stew ready to eat, but I was assuming everyone would wait until the normal meal time, and eat together. Do you want food right now?” “Yes, right now please,” he told her, startling even himself. “I find myself very hungry for some reason.” As she bent to ladle out some stew with her large wooden spoon into a bowl, he apologised as best he could.
“I am sorry to disturb you in this way, my dear. I don’t usually get hungry suddenly, but my body is insisting on being fed.” “Here you are, High Chief. Hot and tasty.” “Thank you, my dear. Your work is appreciated, and not just by me.” He accepted the full bowl and picked up one of the eating spoons from the adult cutlery bag hanging nearby. The cloth bag was a pleasant brown shade. He was reminded how his women had insisted on these eating tools being washed clean after every use and returned to the cutlery bag. It was an excellent hygiene practice, and the children had a yellow bag for their own smaller cutlery, so that they learned good practice.
He enthusiastically set to, and the stew was swiftly consumed, but he was yet unsated, so asked for a second bowl of stew. This he got, and this helping was enough for his enhanced appetite.
Two hours later, he was hungry again. This was unusual, but he presented himself at the cook-fire and was fed again.
What was going on with his body? he wondered. He was replete a couple of hours ago, now he had stuffed himself again. The only ailment he knew off that would behave like that was river-worms in Africa, but that was not the case here, and anyway, his nanites should be protecting him for illnesses. It could not be an illness, then. He scoured his mind for a solution, but couldn’t find one. He felt perfectly healthy, merely excessively hungry.
Come the next mealtime, he again had double portions, and Numa remarked on his hunger. He had trouble answering her, for he truly had no answer to give her.
Come evening, he was able to service several of his wives, then hunger struck him again and he returned to the cook-fire to help himself to whatever leftovers there were in the pots. The cooks had gone to their sleeping pads, but the smouldering fire had kept the remainder warm enough to eat.
Come morning, he was up early for a hearty breakfast to assuage his latest hunger. This was starting to worry him, even though there were no obvious adverse effects on his metabolism.
As he settled back to sit on a sitting pad, a lassitude came over him, and he slowly lapsed into a snooze. He began to snore gently.
He was found there by some of his wives when they got up for breakfast. He was nudged by Vickie.
“Darling, time you woke up and saw to your work.” She got no response, and that concerned her. She patted his cheek gently, to rouse him, and again got no response. She rushed to Sheila for help, in case this was a plant poison effect.
Sheila looked him over, checked that he was breathing normally, and frowned.
“This is not normal, Vickie, but I have no idea what is happening to him. Go get Raka. She has an enquiring mind as well as local knowledge. She might have some idea of the problem.” Raka was brought in and did much the same checks of her husband as had Sheila. She stood up and thought for a while.
“What we need is a shaman to judge his condition. I want to ask Cormoro if he has any feelings about this occurrence. He gets obscure notions from time to time that have some bearing on life here, so he is worth trying. John seems to have had some confidence in Cormoro’s talents.” More and more of the wives were arriving to look at their husband and worry about him. Chief Numa organised them into a rota and a procession of them came and kissed him as he lay there comatose. He reacted to none; just lay there sleeping.
At last, Cormoro arrived. Chief Numa briefed him on the basic facts, and he nodded.
“As you say, this is unusual at any time. I have never heard of an ailment to cause this, except for a poison bite, and from what I am told, that would be dealt with by his invisible magic mites. So he just shouldn’t be this way. Perhaps it is a magic incantation that has led to this?” Sheila snorted, “Forget your magic chants, Cormoro. This is entirely physical; we simply don’t have the cause identified. Stir up your shaman talents and see what your head tells you, man.” Cormoro moved closer to the unconscious man, and slowly waved his hands over his head and body, trying to sense what there might be inside the High Chief. For the first few moments, nothing came to his mind, but as he concentrated his mental talents a feeling came over him and he gasped.
“Oh, my...” “What, Cormoro?” demanded Chief Numa.
“I don’t know. I have never experienced this before. It is all new to me, so I have to work out what I am sensing about his body.” Numa commented, “That is more than anyone else has noticed about my John. Keep on with your examination of him, Cormoro.” “Shush! I need to concentrate!” He was unaware of his social gaffe in speaking this way to the tribal Chief, but she let it pass, as her priority was solving the problem of John’s collapse.
He continued passing his hands over John, getting his hands closer and closer. As his gaze focused, he placed a hand on John’s forehead and left it there for a moment. Then he went rigid for a little, lifted his hand and finally relaxed.
“Holy Earth Mother! He spoke to me!” “John spoke to you? He hasn’t moved at all.” “Not with sound. He spoke with his head to my hand, and the message went to my head from my hand. Wow! This has never happened before.” He was bamboozled by this new thing. It amazed him, and he was unaware of how unhelpful he was being to those listening to him. Numa made this clear.
“Cormoro! What did John say to you?” “Uh ... I am not sure. I am not even sure it was the High Chief speaking.” Numa was getting annoyed with him.
“Stop talking nonsense, Cormoro. Give me something that has some meaning to it.” He raised his eyes to look at her, and said what he could.
“The voice said... ëhe must sleep during the change. He only needs water for a day.’ That was all I got. That seems to mean it is not John himself who is speaking, but who else could it be? A spirit without a body? The Earth Mother? What?” Numa countered, “Has the Earth Mother ever spoken directly to a person? At any time?” “Well, no, but this might be the first time.” Sheila charged in with her own reasoning.
“Maybe it is the nanites in his body?” Vickie challenged this idea.
“How could nanites speak and make sense, Sheila?” “I don’t know, but John has been here for a year or so. The nanites may have learned more about his body during this time, and worked out how to speak to the Shaman when he touched John.” “But, nanites communicating?” “They managed to pass themselves over to other people, and start doing their repairs to other people. How do they pass that information across? There must be some mechanism for communication between nanites. Perhaps they have adapted this to communicate through the skin?” Vickie thought this over, then stretched out her arm and place her own hand flat on John’s forehead.
She then concentrated her mind and thought, “Are you nanites doing the speaking?” For a little while there was nothing, then she sensed a response. It was not a word, but more the sense of a word, not the vocalising of the word. It was as if the word was a meaning being transferred to her. It was a positive meaning, a positivity.
“Yes.” “Okay, I got that,” she responded in the same way, surprising herself. “what is going on? What are you doing with John? Should we be worried?” This barrage of questions halted the discussion for a little while, except for a “Wait,” that came through loud and clear.
She waited. Waited longer. Finally, there was a message.
“No worries. We are changing John, making him ... tougher ... stronger ... more potent ... longer to live. Making him better for survival.” The message ended abruptly. The nanites apparently were straight to the point; no unnecessary words. Presumably that made constructing meaningful dialogue simpler. Vickie got the idea, and was satisfied with what she heard.
Only, she had not heard anything; merely was in touch with her husband John, skin to skin.
Chief Numa noticed when Vickie lifted her hand, and wanted answers.
“Vickie, what happened there, with you touching him like Cormoro did?” Vickie blinked, almost surprised at being asked.
She told Numa, “I got a message from the nanites. They say they are changing John to be better for his work here; I presume that means as a civiliser and a father. I got the impression they were making him stronger and tougher, which presumably means he will be able to fend off most attacks. They also suggested he will be able to father more children very easily. As if he was not fathering enough children as it is!” Numa pointed out, “Vickie, the nanites would not know how many wives he has and how many are pregnant already. The nanites can’t look out of his eyes, can they? Or know what he is thinking?” Vickie cottoned on to what Numa was suggesting.
“No, you are right. The nanites are inside his body, so they can have no concept of what he is doing, except clues like how many times he ejaculates. They probably have equated his ejaculations with a need to procreate, so they are boosting his potential that way.” “How can they do that?” Chief Numa asked Vickie.
“Numa dear, think of how the body works, then remember that these little constructs, like tiny things made by a Maker, are so small that they can move around inside your muscles and blood vessels. They are in a position to make improvements at a very very small level, so that your muscles can work more effectively. With you, me and the other wives, this just works as preventing nasty bugs from causing illness, or sewing torn flesh together to make it whole again.
In John’s case, they are making the muscle better able to do the work: stronger muscles and so on. I would guess he will be able to lift larger loads in future. It is only my guess, but we will have to wait and see.” “So why was he eating so much the last day or so?” “Fuel. Working at improving his muscles would take a lot of energy, and humans get most of their energy from food intake. They made him hungry so he would eat more, providing the fuel for them to get energy for their operations inside him.” Cormoro interrupted, “Chief Numa, I only grasped part of what was being said, as it was too complicated for me. Can you help me with a simpler explanation, please?” “I am not from his original home, where such matters exist, so I think Vickie or Sheila are best to explain what is happening inside High Chief John.” She turned to look at them, and Vickie took on the challenge.
Oceana
- 26.06.2022
- 9
- 0
Batwoman meets Catwoman Part One
- 3 years ago
- 81
- 0
Catwoman and Batman The Wager
- 3 years ago
- 60
- 0
