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Authors: Emily Tilton

BOOK: Assigned a Guardian
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She spoke the last words intending them to be a joke, but they came out as bitter as Kayla felt them.

Marjorie gave her a sad smile. “As I’ve said, Kayla, I know how hard this is for you. I’m glad you’re here. I think as a 1A you’re going to have a life with your husband that you’ll really, truly thank the Basic Law for someday, but I also know that you can’t see that right now.”

Kayla looked at her, feeling her brow crease in puzzlement.

“Also,” Marjorie continued, her tone softening even more, as if to take the sting from the words she spoke, “although I’ve said that this room is a safe space, I must warn you, as a friend—if you’ll let me call myself that—that if you express the kind of sentiment you just did, outside this room in public, you won’t like the results.”

Kayla felt anger well up in her, and knew that the scowl she had been trying to keep off her face had forced its way on. She said nothing, letting her narrow eyes respond. She expected Marjorie to adopt a stern face in response, or even to threaten her with a paddling, but instead the senior matron just sighed.

“Kayla,” she said. “I wish you’d let me help you. Maybe you will, someday. But I know that’s not going to be today.” She looked into Kayla’s eyes for another long moment, then turned to the
Jupiter
girl who sat to Kayla’s left. “Your turn, Joanne,” she said.

Kayla had to admit that she found the three second-gens absolutely fascinating. They seemed like regular girls, girls Kayla might have known at home, but what came out of their mouths astounded her. For one thing, all three of them, Mary, Margaret, and Susan (old-fashioned names seemed very much a thing here on Draco) all gushed about how happy they were to have been ‘chosen’ as 1A. Kayla found herself exchanging puzzled looks with the other women from the
Jupiter,
Joanne and Tiffany, who seemed more compliant than Kayla when it came to the Basic Law, but the enthusiasm of these second-gens clearly took them aback almost as much as it did Kayla.

“My mom’s a 1A, too,” Margaret confided, “and she always tried not to get my hopes up, but I could tell that she really wanted me to find a husband like my dad. I mean, they have sex every night, so it just seemed completely normal, and I was really nervous that I’d have to settle for less.”

All three
Jupiter
women’s mouths hung open at that. Marjorie noticed and laughed. “You second-gens, look at our new friends.”

Mary, Margaret, and Susan looked over. “What?” Susan said. “What’s amazing about that?”

“Well,” Joanne replied, “um, on Earth I’m not sure any person anywhere would ever talk about their parents’ sex life like that.”

“Really?” asked Mary.

“Really,” said Marjorie. “The culture created by the Basic Law is very old-fashioned in some ways, but in others it’s far more open and enlightened even than space-age Earth culture.”

Kayla couldn’t help herself. “So you really are looking forward to having to serve your husband in bed and just keep having children and taking care of them?” she asked.

Susan said, her own brow creasing, “That’s kind of a strange way to look at it, isn’t it? I mean, I’m a 1A, so I
want
to have sex a lot. And I love kids, but the schools and daycare centers on Draco are the best places for kids to spend their days, once they’re a year old, so I’ll get to work on my craft—I throw pots. But, yes, I guess that’s fair. It sounds like ‘serving your husband in bed’ is something you don’t think is fun, but, well, it gets me really wet to think about it.” She giggled.

Kayla looked at Joanne and Tiffany. To her horror, they were nodding in sympathy. She shook her head, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Kayla,” Marjorie said. “I had a friend among the original colonists. She died a few years ago, but she tested as a 1A and she had some of the same trouble with it that you do. She never accepted that her body made her crave a kind of relationship that, intellectually, she found unacceptable. She ended up in Lourcy House, which wasn’t a bad life for her, really, but I was always sad that it had to be that way.”

“So I can go to Lourcy House?” Kayla said, grabbing at the straw.

“At thirty, if you feel that’s the right thing, in consultation with your guardian. Until then, your guardian will decide about your courtship.”

“What does that mean? If some ‘suitor’ wants to have sex with me, can he just rape me if my guardian says it’s okay?”

“No, of course not,” Marjorie said patiently. “But your guardian is permitted to discipline you to help you understand your duty when it comes to your sexuality and your marital status. And you are permitted to protest your guardian’s discipline, but you must not expect the administration to take favorably to making a change based on anything short of permanent injury. We choose guardians because we have faith in them. If you complain, you will probably get a guardian chosen because he’s an even firmer disciplinarian than the one you had.”

Medieval.
That’s what Patrick had called it. And it really, really was. They would spank her until she had sex with the man her guardian thought was a good match. And Joe had made it very clear that he had a knee waiting for her, or even what he had called ‘my faithful punishment strap,’ if she ‘needed’ it.

“We have to be clear on this, sweetie,” he had said in a kind tone. “There are gonna be times when I know what you need much better than you do. I can already tell that a lot of those times, what you need is gonna be a trip over my knee for a bare-bottom spanking. That’s just the way it is.”

Kayla
hated
the way that made her feel—when he had said it, and now, thinking about it. There were cowardly flutters in her tummy, every time, at the thought of having to lower her jumpsuit—because she would be damned if she ever wore one of those rayon dresses—and her panties, and lay herself over Joe’s powerful lap so that he could bring his big hand down on her bare bottom until he thought she had learned her lesson.

Kayla had said experimentally, “Oh, come on.”

But Joe had replied, his face going stern, “Do you need a lesson right now, sweetie? ‘Cause I wouldn’t mind giving you one.”

“No,” Kayla said meekly, the flutters threatening to make her faint.

“No,
sir,
” Joe said patiently.

“No, sir,” Kayla whispered. Flutters. Another spanking was all she needed.

Marjorie was giving a little lecture on the meaning of 1A when Kayla returned her focus to the training session. “It
doesn’t
mean you like being punished. I have a feeling that’s what you second-gens think, though. Am I right?”

Kayla looked at them—they were nodding. They would probably have nodded at anything Marjorie said, though: she was clearly their heroine—even their heroin. At the thought of the pun, she snickered. Marjorie looked right at her, and Kayla felt bad. To her astonishment, she felt really, really bad for having snickered.

“Kayla?” she said.

“Oh, I’m really sorry… I just… I just thought of this silly pun, and I didn’t mean to laugh.”

She saw Marjorie’s eyes narrow, just a bit—not angrily, but in a way that suggested the older woman was re-evaluating Kayla a little bit.

“That’s alright,” she said. “This stuff can bring out a lot of uncomfortable laughter.”

Now Kayla felt grateful to her. Dammit.

“Anyway,” Marjorie continued, “part of being 1A is enjoying power exchange with a man, or even a woman, or a man and a woman, or two women—you get the idea, I’m pretty sure.” Kayla looked around, but no one seemed scandalized—and she herself wasn’t scandalized. In fact, the other five students were all smiling secretive sorts of smiles. Okay, yes, from medieval to kinky-progressive in no time at all.

“But no one likes getting punished, so if you were hoping that suddenly when you entered courtship you were going to start, well, I’m afraid it isn’t going to happen.”

Mary raised her hand. “Okay, but then why do my parents always have sex after my dad spanks my mom?”

“Excellent question,” Marjorie said. “And very much related to an essential aspect of what makes us 1A. Let’s kill two birds with one stone. We’ll take off our clothes now. When you’re naked, go get one of the wedge cushions and bring it to the circle, and lie back on it.”

Kayla watched the others—even the
Jupiter
girls—start to obey without any fuss at all. She paused, still sitting, just looking and trying to figure out what she wanted to do.

“Kayla,” Marjorie said.

Kayla’s eyes snapped back to the senior matron. Her dress was off, and she wore only a surprisingly lacy red bra and panties. For a woman who had borne eight children, her body was, Kayla had to admit, magnificent. Kayla found her eyes drawn to the V of her thighs, where the lace was shaped to accentuate the way that Marjorie had apparently shaved, or waxed, down there. The sight made Kayla gasp; she wasn’t a prude, of course, but something about the situation—seeing Marjorie in her sexy lingerie because Kayla herself needed to learn about how to a good girl in bed—seemed unimaginably hot, and very dirty.

Marjorie smiled at Kayla’s reaction. “Before I take my lingerie off, Kayla, I just want to ask you to think about how you feel when I tell you that John gave it to me yesterday, and told me I had to wear it today for this training session.” Marjorie turned and went to get one of the big wedge cushions, leaving Kayla to think.

Kayla didn’t want to think about that, so she found herself getting up and going for a cushion. The cushions were covered in a black plush fabric that felt sensual just in the very touch of it on her skin. The governor told his wife that she had to wear special lingerie. It was so… slight, so… innocent, even. And Marjorie had now taken it off, and she was simply, unabashedly naked, as were all the others. The second-gens had no lacy lingerie—just the standard issue white rayon briefs that were free, apparently, like all basic clothes. Could their guardians buy lacy underwear and tell them to wear it? That variation on Marjorie’s words presented another vision that Kayla found she needed to push away.

Kayla and the others from the
Jupiter
had all worn their shipboard white cotton, so as all six girls took off their underwear, the room looked a little like a locker room at a girls’ school, Kayla thought. The sight that succeeded that one, though, of seven naked women in a circle, their legs spread wide at Marjorie’s instruction, was not like that, except perhaps in a pornographic version of a girls’ school.

“Alright. I promised an answer to Mary’s question. While I give it, I want to see you girls masturbating.”

Kayla looked at Joanne. To her horror, she saw not shock on her fellow newcomer’s face, but amusement. Kayla looked at the second-gens across the circle. Their hands were already moving on their pussies, and Susan had put a second hand under her thigh to touch her anus. Her eyes, and Margaret’s eyes, were closed, but Mary’s were open, looking lustfully at the other women, clearly taking inspiration from their nakedness.

Kayla looked at Marjorie, and to her blushing dismay saw that Marjorie, too, had begun to play with herself, rubbing her fingertips up and down her pussy-lips lightly, as she looked right at Kayla. “Why does Mary’s father fuck Mary’s mother after he spanks her?” she asked rhetorically, and in a rather dreamy way. “Go ahead and play with yourself, Kayla, please.”

Kayla’s fists clenched at her sides. “You’ll be punished if you don’t—but not by me. Your guardian will handle you now, in such cases. You don’t want to go over his knee tonight, do you?”

Marjorie’s words were greeted by whimpers from all around the circle. They were… they were thinking of Kayla getting spanked, while they played with themselves! Kayla looked from one to the other, and they were all looking back at her. She had to put a stop to it… Kayla fucking Lourcy wasn’t going to get punished because she refused to masturbate—she would fake it.

She put her hand down, and found that to her horror Marjorie’s words had somehow made her pussy much more sensate than it had been in, well, a very long time. She moaned involuntarily.

“That’s it,” Marjorie said.

Kayla couldn’t help rubbing and moaning again, and then she closed her eyes, and she couldn’t stop, because she was thinking of the spanking she would get, sometime soon, for something.

“No one likes to be punished,” Marjorie repeated, “but the way a good man—a man who knows what to do with girls like us—punishes a 1A expresses not just his domestic dominance, but his erotic dominance as well. A man who governs you in bed, with his cock,” There were giggles at the play on words, in and among the sighs and moans of six masturbating girls, “almost always gets hard when he punishes you. As you get used to belonging to him, being a 1A means that you will be very happy that he wants you that way, after he teaches you the lesson you need; most of the time, you won’t want to have his cock inside you, taking you hard and fast, right then after he has strapped you or paddled you, especially if he takes your bottom, as is his right, and as many men like to do after a spanking.”

“Why?” gasped Susan. Kayla’s eyes flew open; across the circle, Susan’s middle finger was probing at her bottom-hole gently, now. The sight sent wetness flowing so greatly in Kayla’s own pussy that she was sorely tempted to do the same thing. Susan had asked the question that Kayla desperately wanted to ask.

Marjorie didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she gave a little whimper as she delicately put two fingers inside herself. Then she said, “Because it makes… him… feel dominant. And, as I said, the real answer is that a man fucks his wife… after a spanking, because he wants to, and not because she does.”

Kayla realized that she was coming: the terrible idea that when she was married, here on Draco, her husband, whether after a spanking or not, would simply have her, fuck her, take her, because that was his right, as her husband… even if he wanted to have her bottom. It pushed her over the edge and she cried out, hearing the others do the same around her.

“Very good,” Marjorie said. “We’re done. Now, there are also specialized classes that I, and some of the other 1As of the colony, teach. They cover specific ways of pleasing your husband. Your guardians now, and someday soon I hope your husbands, will decide whether they’re appropriate for you. This is the end of what we might call your basic training in what it means to be 1A.”

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