Two days passed during which Rose was shown an array of duties—baking, gardening, and milking cows and goats, although the goats did not have horns. She drew the line at killing the evolved wingless chickens and promised to learn that at a later time. She looked forward to learning to sew, a skill her mother had had and Rose had never learned as she’d graduated high school early and gone directly to college.
That night, despite being exhausted from the day’s work and still recovering from the trek to the village, Rose was socially required by the men of her ‘castle’ to be outside with the rest of the villagers and to look at the array of stars and the full moon.
“But I wish to go to bed.”
“It is something the village enjoys on clear nights. It is a tradition.” Jabin’s tone was firm but gentle, as though he spoke to a little child.
“That’s stupid. I’ve seen many stars and many moons in many galaxies,” she argued, taking on an equally condescending tone.
Jabin leaned down and spoke into her ear. “You will speak with a civil tongue or I’ll take you over my knee again.”
Her heart quivered at the thought of a second spanking.
“You are not the only tired one, but you will find your worries fade when you are part of the community, and we gain strength and joy from what God displays for us.”
Yes, these people are backwards but at least they know the value of community, she thought.
Rose took a deep breath. “Yes, Jabin.” She walked with him and the other castle members to the nearby center of the village where a small man in a robe carried an oil lamp and mumbled seemingly religious incantations.
Wooten slapped Jabin’s back. “Full moon, my friend.”
Jabin glanced over his shoulder, smiling, and Rose suspected some sort of conspiracy.
When back in the castle and finally able to go to bed, Rose dreamt of the spanking Jabin had given her the other night.
When she woke up, she thought about his threat that evening. Ugh. And they claim to be modern. Still, she knew it could be worse. She could have landed on a cannibalistic planet or been seriously injured in the landing, or raped by savages, or deposited on an arid, unpopulated region.
She thought back to the life she yearned for. It had been a busy one, but it had been challenging. Suddenly, a memory from her past resurfaced.
She had been scheduled for an interview by telecast. The memo told her to prepare for it but gave no details as to the date or type of event, or what she was accused of. It was scheduled twenty days ahead, giving her plenty of time to worry.
She had gone to her friend and mentor, Miriam Cooper, the ship’s commander. All Miriam said was, “They will do what they’ve already decided to do. I can’t tell you what the charge is or who made it, but it won’t require removal from post or reduction in rank.”
So Rose had worried. She was forbidden by policy from telling anyone about it, and just that act could draw more discipline. She wondered if Jackson had reported something against her. While she doubted it, it would not be the first time in the Service that one lover turned on another.
She chuckled as she realized she was a thousand years late for the review. “At least I can’t be spanked for that.”
The next day, Rose helped make and serve dinner to the hut’s inhabitants. Siri crowed proudly, “Rose is learning well and made the bread.”
Rose shook her head. “Only because you helped. The bread would have been a rock otherwise. I’ve never had to cook.” Siri had been patient, repeating instructions so Rose could get them right. She’d also sat with Rose and explained things about the village, and Rose had taken a deep liking to her.
Dylan laughed. “A woman that does not cook. What were you taught in heaven—how to brush your short hair? What skills do you have?”
Rose fired back. “I was a nurse. I understand the body and heal wounds and illness. I have little tools and medicine with me, but that was my trade before I came here. I was a nursing supervisor with a specialty in chiropractic; I am a captain. We had thousands on our space transports.”
“Thousands? Of people? In one cart?” Wooten shook his head in obvious disbelief. “Save such stories for the children. We don’t have towns with that many people.” Then he rubbed salt in her emotional wounds. “Or do you not know the correct way to count?” Everyone laughed.
Rose’s perennial temper made her snap. “Just because you’re ignorant of other places does not mean I’m lying. Get your head out of your fucking asses. You might learn something.”
Dylan was closest and moved quickly. He put one foot on the bench and bent Rose over his knee before she could blink twice. He smacked her ass a dozen times over her dress and another dozen or so with it hiked up. That was humiliating enough, but then he pulled down her panties. His hand slapping her bare ass echoed throughout the room, and she squirmed at the embarrassment of another man in the cabin spanking her.
Nothing was said but the looks of disapproval from the men spoke volumes. The women shook their heads, and Rose felt humiliated at being spanked in front of the others. It had been a short but painful session, and the message was clear. She’d definitely watch her tongue more in the future.
When it was over, Dylan returned to his seat as though nothing had happened. The meal ended with a discussion of food supplies, weather, and the animals. Rose stayed silent, embarrassed and ashamed. Ugh, to be punished like a child… It was too much, but at least it was over. When she grew up, children were ostracized for a day or more after misconduct to let the effect settle in. She’d never been spanked as a child. Sure, there had been a swat or two here or there, but the adults in her life had instead been fond of lectures—long, belittling lectures.
Jabin clapped his hand on the table. “A good meal with good family. I am blessed.”
Everyone’s looked to him expectantly, making Rose wonder if a prayer was to follow. When she looked toward Jabin, their eyes met. He immediately smiled, further perplexing Rose.
“I announce tonight, on a full moon, that I claim our newcomer, Rose, as my wife.”
While the others toasted him and bid him well, Rose wondered if she would have a heart attack from the tension and shock. Her mouth and throat went dry, and when she picked up her cup to drink, her hand and arm shook.
Siri and Mary surrounded Rose and hugged her, then kissed her cheeks.
Jabin stood next to her. “Rose, you look like you’ve seen the nighttime ghost. Are you ill?”
Her mouth dropped open, while her tongue and brain failed her.
Wooten encouraged her to stand. “You must dance with your future husband. Celebrate your happiness and good luck! It is our custom.”
Like a puppet, Rose danced as the others hummed a song and Wooten played a fiddle in a slow, deep, romantic tune. Jabin’s smile lit the cabin as Rose’s heart grew heavier.
The next day at dusk, the villagers gathered in the center of town by the well as the religious man, wearing a robe and carrying an oil lamp, walked around them waving smoking reeds. She couldn’t understand his mumbling. He was the shortest male in the village and walked with a limp, but he still commanded everyone’s attention. Almost like a prop in a movie, she was placed next to Jabin. Rose and Siri tied flowers in Rose’s short hair.
Mary said, “Don’t worry, it will grow.”
The robed man stopped in front of Jabin and Rose. For the first time, the man’s flat, stoic, and clean-shaven face beamed with an ear-to-ear smile. On his lead, everyone recited a prayer that ghostly resembled the Lord’s Prayer. He passed the oil lamp off and Rose got a whiff of it. It was quite fragrant, unlike the plain oil lamps in the hut. He made a circle of the smoldering reeds around them and then he handed the reeds to someone standing nearby.
Placing his hands on the chests of Rose and Jabin, he said, “Jabin, it joys us to see you happy again. Is it your desire to claim Rose as your wife?”
“It is, pastor.”
The pastor cast his gaze to Rose. She felt he could see into her soul with his sparkling jewel-like green eyes, and she suddenly looked away, afraid he might see her fear.
In the next moment, her shock hit fully. Would she, could she, accept the marriage? Should she run? But where would she run to?
To her surprise, the pastor said, “Rose, you are blessed to have been sent to our village and to be claimed by Jabin. He is a good man who will care for you. You are blessed to be his, you are blessed, you are blessed, you are blessed, child of God.”
Damn it, she didn’t feel blessed.
“Obey him, please him, and serve him and the castle and your other husbands in all ways. May you have many children with God’s blessing.”
She expected had him to make the sign of the cross, but instead he waved his hand in the air and made three circles.
How appalling that she was not asked to say ‘I do.’ Maybe she should seek other villages.
Wooten and Dylan grabbed Jabin and Rose’s hands and stood in front of them. Siri and Mary came from behind. Everyone from their cabin touched them on their shoulders, arms, or backs in an obvious symbol of uniting their souls.
The crowd came forward to hug and congratulate them, but Rose’s mind, and likely her face, were blank. She felt numb and hollow. She hadn’t even been asked by the pastor if she took Jabin for her husband. It had been decided as though she were a piece of cattle. Should she run away? Why had she been the only one to survive and to be thrust into this strange world? She missed her prior life despite its problems—the distrust among crewmembers and in society in general. The government had become too powerful and intrusive, but it was all she’d known, and it was better than this.
She had never been religious, but she’d still held a trust and belief in God. But was that God even the same God as this one? What was her purpose in life? Why had she been spared death only to be dumped into this back-in-time village?
Jabin thrust a large, hand-carved wooden goblet into her hand. Time stood still for a second as she gawked at the intricate carving of a man and a woman on the handle holding a goblet between them.
Jabin kissed her lips. “I promise to care for you.” He sipped from the goblet, then pushed it toward her. She gulped, welcoming the wine and wanting more.
He tilted his head. “Now you say that you promise to obey me and the castle husbands.”
Siri came forward. “I am sorry, Rose. I should have told you that, but I became busy and forgot.” She glanced to Jabin and the other husbands. “Forgive me.”
Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “I reminded you just a short time ago to tell her.”
Siri’s mouth fell open. “No. I don’t remember that. It was last week you told me.”
Dylan groaned, shaking his head in clear disapproval. “We did not know one week ago that Jabin would claim her, so that is not possible. She had not yet come to us one week ago.”
Rose tried to salvage the situation. “Well, now I know,” she said brightly, perplexed by the confused look on Siri’s face. Smiling her best professional smile, Rose said, “Jabin, I promise to obey you and the other castle husbands.” She drained the goblet. “Is it acceptable that I have more wine? It is very good and I admire this goblet.”
Wooten poured her more from a large earthen jug that was so large it required two hands. “Pastor Filland does all of our carvings. He is gifted one way while cursed in another.”
Rose drank. “I saw he is the smallest man and has a limp.”
“Yes. His mother drowned in a flood one winter and he was born early, one leg distorted and shorter. It was a miracle he lived, so we made him the pastor.”
“That is sad; he is so young.”
All the cabin mates laughed. Mary cried out, “Young? He is thirty.”
Mary asked, “Rose, what is your age?”
“Twenty-seven. I was in the service from the age of eighteen and I was promoted quickly. My father was also in the service and I learned much from him.”
They just stared at her.
Siri said, “I thought you were twenty or twenty-one.”
After some time spent celebrating, everyone returned to their chores. Jabin went to work somewhere, and it was Rose’s her turn to clean the cabin while the other wives worked outside. Rose welcomed the solitude and paid close attention to the detailed instructions Siri gave her. She wondered if there would be a honeymoon, and hoped there wouldn’t be. It was not quite what she’d expected for her wedding day. She’d wanted to marry Jackson, but he’d said he didn’t believe in the ‘antiquated institution.’ So, she got her wedding, just not to the man she wanted to marry.
A quiet dinner came and went. Then, after a nighttime stroll with Jabin, he led her to bed and undressed himself. His erection was hard to ignore. “This will now be your sleeping place.”
The ceiling seemed to be about seven feet or so and the room was rectangular. When entering, Rose walked past a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser with drawers. There was a half wall, and when she walked around that, there was a similar bed with the bare furniture, then another half wall, and then the same setup. There were two small windows and bare walls consisted of wooden planks. One wall was decorated with an elegant quilt depicting a village covered with snow. The skill of the artist was exceptional. The floor, like the rest of the cabin, was also made of plain wooden planks.
She expected Jabin would consummate the ‘marriage’, if that’s what it could be called, although she thought it was more like a business arrangement. She undressed quickly, and to her surprise, he watched, not like an anxious teen, but like a man taking in the sight of something awesome and breathtaking. When she was naked, he too her into his arms and kissed her. Then he sat her on his lap, the same lap he’d hauled her over for a spanking. Pulling her close, firmly but not tightly, he wrapped his arms around her and took three deep breaths.
“I wondered if I would ever again be blessed with a wife. You are very beautiful. Do you know that?”
No one had ever told her that before, or asked her that, and she was speechless.
He loosened his hold so they could match gazes. “Do you not know that you are a beauty? Has no ever told it to you? You are like a sunrise or sunset. A blessing of nature.”
Oh, it had been a long time since she luxuriated in the arms of a man. “Yes, I think I know it. Where I am from, sometimes we were so busy with careers—uh, work—that we forget to be tender.” She swallowed at the lump in her throat. “You are a kind man.”
“I cannot yet say that I love you. I know women need to hear that, but they must always be told the truth. I will not lie to you, because you are my wife. I know love will take root for us in time. Until then, I hope you will be happy. I am.”
Her jaw trembled at his loving manner. He gently kissed her cheeks, her nose, and then her lips. Maybe he’d let her groom his facial hair someday. He’s kind—a leader, mature like Jackson was, and behind the beard and mustache, he has a solid and attractive face, strong and stoic. She had always enjoyed skin on skin contact, and as he slid his hand up and down her back, he sent shivers through her body.
He stopped. “Do I hurt you?”
“No, no. Your kind touch make me shiver, but in a good way.”
He chuckled. “It is funny sometimes what our bodies do.” He gave her a long and sensual kiss, then lifted her in his strong arms and placed her on the bed as though she were a rare jewel. Looking down on her, he gazed at her intently. “Oh, yes, a true beauty. I am blessed.”
Despite the precum leaking from his bobbing cock, he took his time and explored the front of her body with a soft touch. Then he rolled her so that she lay on top of his chest, and she could feel his full and large cock pressing into her abdomen. He wrapped his legs around hers and smiled deeply as he embraced and kissed her. She found it hard to keep from looking time and again into his blue eyes as she passed her hands over his hairy chest.
Then he rolled her to her back and his fingers moved to her mound and her pussy.
“Ah, my woman, it is such a joy for me that our cabin has three wives again.” He frowned. “Are you not happy? You do not welcome me?”
“Welcome you? I think I am doing what is expected.”
He stroked her for a moment. “You are not wet here.” Then a wide grin covered his face. “Ah, of course. You are a virgin. Then I will have you tonight and the other men will wait a few days. We are gentle and modern here.”
He reached over to the nightstand, poured from a well-crafted, purple miniature vase, and rubbed lotion on his cock and on her entrance. He then rubbed oil on her breasts and paid sensual attention to her nipples. She began shivering again and she combed her fingers through his hair and beard. Jackson had never done anything like that. No man had.
“Is this pleasing you, my lovely wife?”
Words failed her and all she could do was smile.
“I am glad. I do not think it will hurt you when I take you. You must say so if there is pain. I will say my cock is one of the largest ever created.” He chuckled and her smile deepened. Smoothly moving into the missionary position, his mouth nibbled her breasts. Then he put her hand on his member.
As she took his cock in her hand, the size pleased her. Surely not many men could have been larger and that was an area Jackson had been a bit lacking in. Maybe that’s what was bothering her. She still loved Jackson but was making love to a new man, her husband. She rubbed the tip of his cock up and down her opening, which brought a smile to his face.
“You please me, my wife.”
After a few more strokes, she settled the head at her opening and nodded. At glacier speed he entered her, his gaze locked on her face and eyes, obviously searching for any sign of pain.
She groaned at the pleasure of his entry. He wore some kind of herbal scent, and as his more-than-ample cock filled her, she thought about how she felt toward him. Certainly, there was no love in her heart, and he was brutal for spanking her. His disgust with some of her words and stories was unacceptable, but he wasn’t a savage and was well respected in the village. That last part was important to her.
He tenderly brushed his hand over her face as he pumped into her with an increasing intensity. It reminded her of her first time, so long ago. She’d had sex with a boyfriend upon their high school graduation and the boy had been very patient.
To her surprise, the rest of the members of the cabin suddenly came near. They held hands as they witnessed the mating. Jabin seemed to enjoy himself under their gaze and had great endurance.
After a while, something changed inside of Rose. Her tension evaporated and her busy mind settled. Her jaw quivered as she caught herself enjoying Jabin’s weight above her. She wished she had a camera to watch his cock pistoning in and out of her, and she luxuriated in the feeling. It didn’t bother her that the others were watching, and truth be told, she had always been a bit of an exhibitionist. She buried her face in his shoulder and breathed in his scent.
His thrusts increased and became shorter; then he grunted as a passionate smile grew. He let out a gentle growl, obviously finding his release, and that pleased Rose. He stayed inside her, pumping in slow motion, staring into her eyes. A few minutes later, he withdrew and rested next to her.
The others clapped his chest and shoulders.
Jabin told the other men, “She is, of course, a virgin, so I think it good that you have her in a few days.” The men nodded and the women offered comforting touches to Rose’s hands. Then Jabin covered Rose and himself with a blanket and moved her to her side with her back to him. He spooned her and kissed her neck. “Sleep well, my delicate flower.”
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