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Martian Mores

Kategori: Genel

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Note: This story experimentally combines several fetishes: peeing, pooping, adult breastfeeding, masturbation, dry humping, and lesbian anal play. If you are someone for whom some of these are turn-ons while others are turn-offs, there are other stories on my profile that deal more exclusively with each fetish (except for lesbian anal play, for which this is a first).


I’m Nora, a 20-year-old member of the very first generation of native Martians, but there is already a significant cultural divide between Earth and its first interplanetary colony. Most of it was a consequence of the circumstances under which the first colonists came to Mars. Despite great technological advances, every cubic meter of room and every pound of cargo in a spacecraft still came with a hefty price tag, which meant that getting the most out of the smallest feasible volume and the lightest feasible resource provisions was a major concern in designing the ship.

One key solution was to let carpets double as toilets. This was accomplished by embedding all carpeting with sanitary nanobots, which had been invented a decade or two before the expedition began. They were microscopic robots that could efficiently dissolve human waste into component elements which, depending on their usefulness, would either be processed and recycled into more resources or carried away and released into the vacuum of space. The tiny flushers did their work in seconds, leaving no trace of their quarry on the floor or in the air.

Although individual cabins, which were essentially just bedrooms, provided privacy to those who wanted it, it became increasingly common over the course of the long journey to forego shyness and squeamishness. After all, the colonists were consciously chosen among the most hardy and pragmatic people, largely uninclined to hesitate in abridging any non-essential social norms. Fortunately, circumstances were never so dire as to render the suspension of privacy necessary. Yet the settlers’ deliberately selected dispositions, the inevitable close bonding fostered by braving a perilous frontier, and perhaps the utter convenience afforded by the sanitary nanobots all seemed to have combined to create an atmosphere of unusual openness. By the time the settlers arrived on the red planet, few if any of them would hesitate to relieve themselves within incidental eyeshot of their companions, who would mostly shrug it off if they even reacted at all.

In a similar vein, sexual activity also came to require much less privacy than most Earthlings would consider normal. One important factor here was that science had recently dealt aging a serious blow. The ship was populated by people who would be pushing 70 before they started looking or feeling noticeably different than they did in their mid-20s. This would be especially important for people who would have to live through a decades-long journey and still undertake the settlement process. On top of that, physical fitness had been another important criterion guiding the selection of colonists, and regular exercise was also encouraged even after they arrived on Mars in order to prevent the lesser gravity from causing atrophy.

Finally, women on the ship were encouraged to induce lactation in themselves. This would not only provide a convenient back-up immunity boost, but it could also serve as an extra source of food that would at least provide an initial buffer in the event of any unforeseen shortages. Again, the voyage was never threatened by anything that serious, but whenever too much milk went unused, as it often did, it could sometimes accumulate and become uncomfortable. So the lactating women developed the habit of letting their friends or lovers drink their milk, increasingly straight from the source. To prevent any unwelcome sexual overtones, it was mostly the non-lactating straight women or gay men who helped them relieve the pressure, except when the relationship between the feeder and suckler was sexual anyway.

Crucially, even after the colony was well-established and growing, these habits never entirely went away. For obvious reasons, careful restrictions on public activity were instituted as soon as children started being born, and as the Martian population grew beyond the original close-knit group of 100 pioneers, the informal consensus on what was acceptable soon drifted partially back towards more Earth-like norms. However, I must emphasize the word “partially” there, because a visitor from the homeworld would still notice a definite difference in our expectations of privacy and modesty. The first settlers simply saw no real reason to abandon their innovative customs altogether and some good reasons for keeping them. For instance, eschewing toilets in favor of nanobot-laden floors meant less overall usage of water, which was still a resource we didn’t want to siirt escort waste.

One relatively recent cultural change that we shared with Earth was the extension of secondary education for three extra years, which was why my 18-year-old sister Cindy and I were both still attending the same school together, though we were obviously in different grades. The policy was barely two generations old, having been implemented shortly before the Martian settlement began, so I hadn’t given it much thought until now. I wasn’t quite ready to leave my home planet, but I only had one more year before college, and there were no post-secondary institutions on Mars yet.

I was already experiencing a touch of the college lifestyle, though, in that Cindy and I lived in the girls’ dormitories. Why? Well, a significant number of Martian parents still frequently traveled back to Earth for various research purposes, which meant that they were often away for months at a time. To help cope with this, the first school on Mars was established with boarding options. That was an elementary school, so the students were all too young to go home to empty houses. The secondary school was built while that first cohort of pupils made their way through the preceding grades. When it was finished and ready to open, the boarding options were extended at the behest of some traveling parents who deemed the age of entry to still be a tad too young for staying home alone. By then, on-campus living had become routine for most kids anyway, so many kept living in the dorms even after they outgrew its necessity. My sister and I were two such students who’d lived on-campus since kindergarten.

I woke up one morning to the sound of my mobile phone sounding the morning alarm. I groggily grabbed it from my desk and lifted my heavy eyelids just enough to turn it off, but my eyes shot open as I realized I had overslept by almost an hour. Hearing Cindy stir above me, I raised my leg and kicked the upper bunk a couple of times. “Wake up, Cindy! It’s almost eight!”

“What?!” She threw her blankets off and practically leapt down to the floor while I rose just a bit more gracefully from my own bed.

We immediately stripped out of our pajamas and ran into the bathroom adjoining our bedroom. Like most Martian bathrooms, it was little more than a six-foot-square shower stall. With a small sink built into one wall and a seat along the opposite wall that doubled as the lid of a trunk.

To save time, we wordlessly agreed to bathe together rather than take turns. We deposited our spaghetti-strap tops and pajama bottoms in the temporary hamper under the bench, and then I started the water flowing. While I coaxed it to a comfortable temperature, I noticed that Cindy had promptly started peeing right there. Ordinarily, she would’ve squatted and taken her usual morning pee on our bedroom carpet, but given the circumstances, she didn’t even feel the need to squat. Instead, she just stood there and let her pale yellow torrent run freely down her legs while she began sudsing up her scrub brush. In a few seconds, the water was nicely warm, so I turned my attention to bathing myself. As Cindy lathered her crotch, a soft purr signaled nascent horniness, and she likely would’ve played with herself more thoroughly if we’d had the time.

We got dressed in just a couple of minutes, wolfed down a breakfast of oatmeal and orange juice, and rushed out to our self-driving car.

Given what I noticed briefly in the shower, I shouldn’t have been surprised when, just a few minutes into our trip, Cindy opened up her jeans and started stroking her pussy under her panties. “I had a wild sex dream last night,” she said, “so I really need to cum before school starts.” She moaned softly as she started repeatedly thrusting her finger into her vagina. Her thrusts were slow at first, but the pace steadily rose until her hand was smacking audibly against her moist labia. Her soft moans grew louder and her breathing more ragged, which only seemed to make her massage herself even faster. In about five minutes, Cindy’s hips started twitching visibly, and she had reached the point of no return. Within another minute, her thighs and butt lurched upwards and slammed back onto her seat several times in rapid succession, stretching and retracting her seat belt. A long moan escaped through her gritted teeth, and then her mouth went slack in a sharp gasp before she let out a final cry of climax.

By the time we arrived at school, it was my turn for a morning pee, so I walked into my first class and headed straight for the nearest wall. Fortunately, I was the first to use the “bathroom,” so I had my pick. That was the protocol. If no wall was already occupied, the first person to squat facing one determined the gender of anyone who could subsequently join him/her. Anyone of the opposite sincan escort gender was automatically designated to the opposite wall. Such designations would last until all walls were once again vacant. I was just starting to get desperate as I opened my jeans, yanked them down along with my panties, and squatted in front of the wall next to the door. I sighed as a strong stream of pale yellow pee instantly burst from my pussy and soaked the carpet under me, soothed by the sensation of my very full bladder rapidly deflating.

I had barely begun to relieve myself, though, before my best friend Maddie squatted next to me and promptly started emptying her own bladder on the floor. “Hey,” she greeted me with a warm smile while we both continued urinating, “I missed you by the door this morning. Where were you?”

“Ah, Cindy and I overslept and barely got here before class started,” I explained with a roll of my eyes. “I think our brains just got too used to the alarm tone and learned to ignore it. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. I swear, purely sound-based alarms just aren’t meant for heavy sleepers like us.” I sighed in relief as pee kept gushing out of me. “Seriously, Cindy apparently had a really hot sex dream last night, so either she didn’t act it out in her sleep at all, or I somehow managed to sleep through it!”

She laughed and nudged my shoulder. “Well, you’ve both slept through stuff that I would’ve thought could wake the dead, so yeah.” She finished peeing a few seconds after me, and we both rose to our feet, pulling our pants up as we stood. The nanobots had already begun their work as we re-fastened our jeans, and by the time we made it to our desks, there was no trace of the huge puddles we’d created mere moments before.

Our first class was history, which was my least favorite, so it also felt like the longest, but it was also good to get it over with. Next came economics, which I probably wouldn’t particularly like were it not for the charismatic and engaging teacher, although I didn’t share that class with Maddie. After that, Maddie rejoined me for calculus. This was Maddie’s best subject, since she was a legit math prodigy, and while it didn’t come nearly as naturally to me, I still did well with her help. Fourth hour was the lunch period for all post-seniors, when Maddie and I rejoined my sister along with Maddie’s girlfriend Stacy in the large yet cozy cafeteria, which was more like a three-franchise food court of the sort that was traditionally more common on post-secondary campuses. As usual, Cindy and Stacy opted for two cheeseburgers while Maddie and I each got a large, custom-assorted Subway sandwich. It took as about a half an hour to scarf everything down, with relatively little conversation interjecting between very comfortable stretches of silence while we stuffed our faces. As we were finishing up, I was unsurprised to notice my sister glancing at my prominent bosom, so after popping the last bite into my mouth, I caught her eye and patted my thigh.

“You read my mind,” she said with a smile as she promptly lay her head in my lap.

“Hey, I know when my little sister wants to nurse,” I chuckled at her as I expertly exposed one of my 40D breasts through a discrete slit in the folds of my pastel-colored nursing top. “Besides, I’m getting pretty full right now anyway.” She didn’t hesitate to take my nipple in her mouth and start suckling, with her tongue and jaw quickly falling into a practiced suckling rhythm. I let out a happy sigh as I felt her instantly draw out a steady flow of milk.

I had been lactating for a while now, having induced it to fill in for our mother while she was away on a research trip to Earth. She’d never entirely weaned either one of us, but Cindy had retained more of her fondness for breastmilk than I did, and besides, I was more curious about what it was like to feed rather than be fed, so I decided to try it. As it turns out, my boobs were quite productive, and my sister took full advantage of that. If convenience called for it, my milk could stand in for an entire meal, but more often, it served as a kind of dessert, albeit an unusually nutritious one. I loved breastfeeding her! It was as much of a pleasure for me as it was for her, and we both seemed to relish the unique sensation of closeness and bonding that nursing brought with it. It warmed my heart to hear her eager gulps and moans of satisfaction, to the point that I would sometimes purr in contentment as she drank her fill. She drained the first breast in about 10 minutes, and as she lapped up the last drops of sweet nutrition, I drew out the other breast, which she wasted no time in seizing between her lips and starting to suckle.

While I breastfed Cindy, Stacy rose from her seat and turned to the wall that was just behind our table. She reached sinop escort under her skirt to lower her panties, squatted in front of it, and proceeded to take her usual afternoon dump. Maddie watched in admiration as she unloaded a thick brown pile on the carpet underneath her, grunting softly as it briefly grew even thicker before the final couple of inches slid swiftly out of her body. She finished just in time for the bell to ring, signaling the start of our next class session, so rather than returning to our table, she joined us and the rest of the sudden flood of students out of the cafeteria.

I had my last three classes (English Literature & Composition, Spanish VI, and AP Biology) with Stacy, while Maddie only shared the last one with us. Stacy had an affinity for Spanish that seemed to come out of nowhere, especially considering that she was much less of a natural in English lit-n-comp, so we often joked about her being born into the wrong native tongue, even though we knew in all seriousness that there was a qualitative difference between learning to use or interpret one’s first language artfully and mastering any foreign language in even a merely conversational capacity. Jut as in math, Maddie was our go-to tutor in biology, or any science really. I guess you could say she was just an all-around STEM girl. As for English lit-n-comp, that was probably my second-best subject, so if anything, I was sort of the humanities girl among the four of us.

Maddie and Stacy were a slightly odd pair of lesbians, or at least I thought so. While they both sported a pair of perky D-cup breasts, their favorite body part seemed to be the butt, even if perhaps by a slim margin. Not exactly each other’s, mind you. Maddie loved Stacy’s ass, and Stacy loved her own. What do I mean by that? Well, Maddie thought Stacy’s round and firm behind was the most perfect one she’d ever seen, while Stacy almost seemed to have a second clitoris somewhere in her rectum. It worked out well for them, though. While they had their share of actual sex, which usually consisted of them fingering each other to orgasm, it was often enough for Maddie to just dry hump Stacy’s butt.

In fact, at least on weekends, their morning routine featured their rumps quite prominently. Just a week ago, we had a birthday sleep over, and I was casual witness to how they typically help each other wake up. Maddie was the first to stir, so she groggily descended in boxers and a tank top to the lower bunk of their bed, where Stacy was laying similarly dressed on her stomach with one arm thrown lazily over the edge. Maddie straddled Stacy’s hips and began rocking her own against her lover’s curvy buttocks. What started as a gentle grinding turned progressively more frantic, and about halfway through the process, she moaned and braced herself with her palms on the bed behind her as her gyrations reached a fever pitch. Soon she was panting, then her mouth just fell open and stayed slack. At this point, Stacy started moaning softly in her dozing state, and soon after, Maddie would manage to announce, “Oh, I’m gonna cum! Gonna cum! Frick, I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” Finally, she unleashed a long, throaty cry of bliss, and she opened her eyes only for them to roll almost to the back of her head as her whole body went slack for a moment, her hips twitching a couple of times before she sighed deeply. She was fully awake.

Then it was Stacy’s turn. Kneeling on the floor, Maddie threw off the covers and pulled her girlfriend’s panties down. She then plucked Stacy’s hairbrush off her desk and inserted its semi-gelatinous handle into her butthole, earning a very contented “Mm,” from her lover. After that first gentle insertion, it quickly turned into a deeper and more rapid ramming motion, repeatedly thrusting the brush into and out of Stacy’s anus. On her part, Stacy began bending her knees and raising her ass as her arousal grew along with the volume of her moans. By the time her thighs were practically vertical, she was getting quite vocal. “Yeah, fill me up!” she groaned. “Fill me up hard! Pound the hell out of my frickin’ ass! Make me cum!” Soon, her moans turned to longer yelps of pleasure as Maddie kept penetrating her asshole as fast as she could. Then, the first hip spasm rendered her feverish declaration of, “Oh, frick, I’m gonna cum so hard!” rather redundant as she finally released a drawling half-moan/half-scream of climax. Her entire body shook with three more hip spasms before her pelvis collapsed back onto the bed, but her eyes were wide open by then.

Maddie smiled in satisfaction, and while a similarly refreshed Stacy stretched and rose from the bed, Maddie set the hairbrush back on the desk and stayed on her knees for the moment to release a torrent of pale yellow pee onto the floor. Since she would shortly be changing them anyway, she lazily just went ahead and wet her panties instead of pulling them out of the way. By then, Cindy was already idly squatting on the carpet beside her sleeping bag in the midst of taking a long morning pee of her own, no more fazed than I was at the nature of our convenient wake-up call.

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