Shared by the Barbarians (8 page)

When the fat sergeant had told her to open her mouth, and the one by her rear end, where they had spread her knees to either side of the bench in a cruel mockery of the way Hed and Kar had held her open at the betrothal, began to play with her bottom and her poor, punished quim that still burned from her cunt-spanking, she had opened her mouth. When the soldiers spoke about having her together—
gangbanging
her, they kept saying the word that still sent shivers down Jalinda’s spine—and then slitting her throat, the terrible words had seemed to speak to her soul:
Yes, this is what you are good for. You ran away from the men who wanted to take care of you. The man who rescued you from the Vionians—from the cruelest Vionian of all. You are a mouth and a cunt and a bottom, good for fucking.

So she had given herself to the soldier’s hand behind her, raising her bottom as much as she could, within her bonds, to ride the fingers and show how good she would be to fuck. And she had almost cried out to have her maidenhead taken at last, the way Pag had taken Renda’s at the general’s banquet, and she had almost screamed that she needed a cock in her bottom, too, just as Pag had told her she did.

She had thought it the ultimate shame, and she had for the few moments before Pag and his brothers rescued her again given herself over to it and gloried in it, in being nothing but a whore that soldiers put their cocks in. Now, though, in the ship, the shame grew in a way Jalinda could never have expected.

She closed her eyes so that she wouldn’t have to watch Pag and Hed and Kar looking at her as she made her water with the hissing noise that always seemed shameful by itself because of the way it felt so very good down there when she peed, let alone when three huge men, their breeches already down and their cocks already in their hands observed closely and seriously.

The shame had become greater not because what they made her do had any more embarrassment in it than what they had done before, really, but because now that they had saved her a second time, after she had foolishly run away from them, Jalinda really did understand much more. She knew she had begun to care for them, deep in her heart and mind. To have the strong, usually kind men with whom it seemed she would finally be united in marriage discipline her with these shameful things—watching on the toilet, making her wear the horrible training belt, making her suck their three enormous cocks and swallow what they gave her—strangely seemed to build her modesty and her self-worth back up even as it punished her by taking it away.

“Wipe yourself, girl,” Kar said. “Then get up and turn around.”

Kar drew the leather belt tight around her waist. It had two chains that hung down in front, and a third in the rear.

“Your cunt will still be available, you see,” Kar said, “once the trainer is inside your rump. When I make you wear your training belt to bed, on my nights, I will fuck you there. In the morning, you will take off the belt and I will fuck your bottom.”

“I will do the same,” Hed said. Did Hed frighten her anymore, really, Jalinda wondered. Something about his seriousness and his refusal to speak or to tolerate idle words made her tremble, certainly. She knew she probably had the most to fear from his punishments, as opposed to Pag’s and Kar’s. Would the other two brothers turn her over to Hed for discipline? Her heart quailed at the thought, even as she blushed a little, realizing that the idea had aroused her, too.

Jalinda thought she already loved Pag. She knew she liked Kar. She couldn’t decide if she even liked Hed, but his dominance made the need for… that—she still usually couldn’t bring herself to say even inwardly the thing that Pag said—seem to sing in her ears.

Pag said, “You will not wear your belt to bed with me, girl, because I will wish to have your rump several times, after you prepare me in your mouth.”

Pag. The barbarian who captured me, and brought me to the general. Who saved me, and saved me again, and fucked another girl and spurted his seed on my face as the eldest does at the betrothal. Who shares me with his brothers, but loves me the most, and I him. Who will fuck me, his cock the first in my virginal little quim and the first in my little bottom, thrusting hard as I turn my face respectfully downward and know what it means to have a master who rides hard for his own pleasure but loves his girl more than anything in the world.

Whose cock will fill my mouth, now. Not the first, but the first that matters.

“Bend over, girl,” Kar said. She heard him opening the box he had taken from the storage locker, of rough wood with an old metal hasp. Then to her surprise and alarm, he put something in front of her face. “Open your mouth, Jalinda, and get the trainer ready for your bottom. You will get your plugs ready, and you will clean them thoroughly with soap and water after we take your belt off. In the same way, you will always clean our cocks respectfully with soap and water after we have finished in your bottom. We may be barbarians, but we live cleanly and healthily.”

The plug that Jalinda had to wet with a mouth that suddenly felt much too dry was made of hard black rubber. It had a bulbous end and a tapered end, with a flare at the base of the taper to ensure—she realized with a blush—that it would stay outside her bottom-hole and keep her open there. Kar held the trainer, and moved it in and out of Jalinda’s mouth.

“There you go, sweetling,” he said. “That’s how a good girl sucks.”

“Enough of your endless talking, little brother,” Hed said with finality. “Her little bottom-hole needs that plug.”

“Bend over, sweetling,” Pag said in a gentler tone. Jalinda wondered if he had called her sweetling because he worried that Hed’s gruffness would frighten her. “You must have the trainer inside your bottom now, as we have said. Reach behind you and spread your cheeks. Show us your secret blossom.”

Yes, the shame had found a new level, in the way the man who loved her now ordered such a lewd thing: to show the part of her that a girl should never, ever show. Jalinda bent forward, bowing her head, and she put her hands back. As she took her bottom-cheeks into her fingers, she realized that the pain from the whipping at the banquet and from the switching Pag had given her in the general’s antechamber had nearly gone. With a little shudder she realized that must mean her husbands would feel free to discipline her on her bare bottom now, as they taught her to be a good wife, in their bedroom and in their village, where public punishment and public fucking seemed to be part of the way of life.

The shudder grew more violent as she obeyed Pag and spread her bottom open. Kar immediately put the tip of the plug to her tiny ring, and she gave a cry of alarm, but he pushed gently, and she resisted.

Hed chuckled. “Let me have a try, little brother,” he said. The trainer left her alone for a moment, but then it was back, firm and unyielding. “Jalinda, I require you to listen to me. Open yourself like a good girl,” Hed said gently, but in a tone that made Jalinda shiver with the knowledge that he would not accept anything but her obedience.

“You have to push, sweetling,” Kar said. “That will open you up. You’ll practice this every day until our wedding night, so that when the time comes you’ll be ready to take what you have to take, all night long.”

Hed pushed harder, and Jalinda cried out in alarm. “Please… is there… is there a smaller one?”

“This is the smallest one, Jalinda,” Pag said patiently. “Soon you will be trained with a much bigger one, to make you as pleasurable as possible.”

Somehow that thought—the image of the much bigger trainer—taught Jalinda how to push and yield. Hed pressed the trainer in with a little grunt of satisfaction. Jalinda whimpered to feel it filling her, opening her, and she kept whimpering as Hed fastened the chains, two in front and one in back, to the trainer.

In the cockpit, on her knees, she sucked the huge barbarian cocks that they made her suck. The three brothers laid a blanket on the metal floor and told her to kneel on it. Then they stood in the cramped space, not quite touching, in a semicircle, their cocks in their hands, pumping them gently as if to show Jalinda what a man liked.

Pag stood in the middle. “Come here, girl,” he said, “and taste the cock of a real man.” He held her head firmly in his hands.

As he thrust in and out, pushing the head of his cock all the way to the back of Jalinda’s throat, he said, “Reach up your hands and pleasure the cocks of my brothers, girl. You must learn how to keep your husbands hard and ready to fuck on a three-cock night.”

Tentatively, and fearing lest she do it wrong, Jalinda reached up and for the first time felt the demand of a man’s hardness in her hand. She tried to rub the way she had seen them doing with their own hands, even as Pag seemed intent on making sure he trained her mouth thoroughly, surging in and out and making Jalinda’s eyes water.

“Is she good?” Hed asked.

“She’s trying,” Pag said. “You take a turn.” He pulled Jalinda’s mouth off his cock, and Hed took her head firmly in his hands and pushed himself deep inside her, so that for a moment her eyes widened and she looked at him with a pleading anxiety.

In her bottom the plug burned in her tiny flower, as it opened and prepared her. Around her waist the belt—the very
idea
of the belt, somehow—made her whole body quiver with shame.

Then Kar’s turn came, and then she had to have Pag’s hardness in her mouth again, until with a shout he spurted his seed onto her tongue, for her to swallow even though it tasted bitter. The three of them tasted different, to her surprise. Did Kar’s seed taste sweet, somehow?

When she had swallowed all their seed, they raised her up and bent her over the pilot’s seat, and fondled her plugged bottom. One pressed firmly on the plug to make her cry out while another held her cheeks in his huge hands, and the third caressed her breasts. Jalinda hung her head, eyes closed, wondering how this could possibly be called discipline, since it felt so good.

“Should she come for us, with her training belt on?” Kar asked.

“No,” Pag said. Hed grunted his approval. “She will wear her belt all morning, and she will know her need for cock.”

The hands departed.
That’s how it can be called discipline
,
thought Jalinda ruefully.

Chapter Ten

They reached the village of the Trestrimar before noon, aboard one of the little jump-jets that linked the sparsely scattered villages of the various tribes of Mara to the spaceport of Marafall. Marafall, on a little island far out in the vast ocean that dominated the planet’s surface, represented the only point of contact between the planet of the barbarians and the rest of the galaxy. The ten founders of the tribes of Mara had looked long and hard to find a planet that might be isolated so effectively, and the simple law of Mara that underlay the law of Trestrimar along with the civil codes of all the other tribes began with the words
We found Mara wild, and she will remain wild.

The jump-jet would return to Marafall, where it would stay with its three sister jets until needed again, should a spacecraft land or—even less likely—should a barbarian of Mara pass the rigorous tests laid down before any man who wished to emigrate. Women, of course, did not have that right, test or no.

We came to Mara to live as men should live, and we brought our women with us, each of them signing away her right of self-determination so that she might live as she truly longed to live, in service to her husband or husbands.

The different tribes handled the coming of age of young women in various ways. In the village of the Trestrimar, girls became women at eighteen in an initiation ceremony wherein a girl undertook to emulate her mother and all her ancestresses and pledged to belong to the men who owned her—the father who would give her away, the husband who would take her virginity, with the father’s blessing, and the men with whom her husband would share her body, whether as cunt-brothers or as men who would punish her with hard fucking when she misbehaved or simply as guests of his house shown the generosity of his hospitality. Those young women who balked at the initiation went to live by themselves, or found their way to the Amazon village that lay two days walk south of the village of the Trestrimar.

“Looks like your tribe has something going on today,” said the pilot, a tall, redheaded man of the Kagimar, as he brought the jet down for its vertical landing in the small space the young warriors kept clear of the quick-growing greenery of Mara, a few hundred meters from the edge of the village. Sure enough, the men of the Trestrimar seemed to have gathered on the village green, around the wooden central platform reserved for public events. “Knowing your law, I wouldn’t be surprised if some girl were getting her cunt spanked.”

He glanced back at Jalinda, who sat between Hed and Kar in the passenger compartment of the jet, still naked and still wearing her training belt. Then he glanced over at Pag with a wry grin. “You Trestrimar have all the luck, don’t you? You three are going to be cunt-brothers in that one?”

Pag chuckled. “We are. Come visit some time and you can have a ride in her cunt yourself.”

The pilot laughed. “Not her rump, though, right? That’s sacred for your tribe, isn’t it?”

Pag looked back at Jalinda again. She had noticed his and the pilot’s attention, though the sound of the jet’s rotors made it impossible for her to hear their words and the manly way they spoke of her. She bit her lip, looking back at him meekly, as if her consciousness of the trainer in her bottom had made her think in a new way even about how she should look at him.

Love swelled up in Pag’s heart. He had never really been interested in the possibility of marriage before he had met Jalinda. He had fucked, of course, like every young man of the Trestrimar, in private when he went visiting the way the young men did to learn the ways of the adult and in public at the feasts where warriors proved their prowess before their elders. But the women of the Trestrimar had never interested him in the way he had always thought he should be interested in the thoughts and feelings of the girl you married.