by Jaye Peaches
She rummaged in her bag and found a clean set of clothes, sticking to her choice of pants and T-shirt. The bathroom contained a small sink, a toilet and a glazed shower cubicle. To call it a shower was laughable, because unlike on Earth where she would stand under a drenching spout of water, this showerhead sprayed a mist. She undressed and stood in the cubicle, shutting the door behind her. She flicked the switch and a vapour mushroomed about her body.
It took time for the water to condense on her skin and form a sufficient number of droplets for her to cleanse and rinse. Her hair went damp, rather than wet and clung to her face. The glass fogged over and she could no longer see her reflection. It came as a relief, because the sight of her bare mound still made her uncomfortable. She’d shaved it prior to departure and managed to keep it hairless throughout the journey. A compulsory requirement for all Corporate wives—keep themselves naked of hairs ready for their prospective husbands to inspect them.
Inspect. She knew it would happen soon, perhaps today. He’d want to see her in the flesh and not on some screen. She didn’t feel ready, she needed more time to come to terms with her decision. Seeing him, having him touch her, filled her with dread. However, she needed to talk to him and get to know her future husband.
She flicked the water off and pressed the button for the dryer. A blast of cool air hit her body, swirling about her limbs and fluffing up her hair. She rotated, allowing the air to dry her skin. Towels didn’t exist on the colony, what with limited resources for washing clothes, everything had to be dry cleaned.
She dressed, combed down her wild mop of hair and tied it back into a ponytail. Staring in the mirror, she sucked in a lungful and chanted her mantra—you can do this, Lysa, think of your future.
She stepped back into the living area. Blake lay on the bed, reclining. Not now, not yet, please. He sprung up and sat on the edge. “Better?” he asked.
“Cleaner,” she replied. She wasn’t sure about better; that implied something else.
“We need to go.” He stood up.
“Go where?”
“Your medical assessment.” Blake grasped the door handle. “Lysa?”
She’d frozen to the spot. “Medical, but I’ve had one, back on Earth before I left.”
“Yes, that was to check you were fit for travelling and not carrying any diseases. This examination is for your sexual health.”
Sexual. Her legs jellified and she wrapped her arms about her chest as if to add an extra layer of protection. She’d pushed aside all thoughts of sex and what was required from her the moment she’d signed up to be a Corporate wife. While others she’d met during briefing sessions spoke eagerly about pleasuring their husbands, she’d kept quiet and ignored the lurid discussion. “It has to be done today?” She sought an escape route.
Blake let go of the handle and walked over to her. “Lysa. This is a compulsory requirement. If you don’t, you’ll be sent back and fined for wasting time. I can’t fuck you until you’ve been given the all clear by the medic.”
Her eyes widened into spoon shapes. How calmly he referred to her impending role in his life. Reality sunk in and smashed its way past her barriers of denial. This marriage wasn’t about love. Not that miners were forbidden from bringing wives to the colony, but love wives were not common. Most miners were encouraged not to marry back on Earth and wait to be provided with a wife, as it guaranteed the Corporation remained in control, and keeping emotions out of relationships made for a less volatile workforce. She knew all of this, yet, she had hid the truth from herself. Fucked. That was all she was to him—a sexual plaything.
He held her chin between a finger and thumb, raising her face and forcing her to look at him. His eyes twinkled under the lights. “Don’t be afraid, Lysa. The sooner we address this the quicker we can get to know each other and marry. You do still want to marry me?” He spoke in a soft tone, almost a low growl. It made her belly fizz and she couldn’t understand why it had that effect on her.
Lysa nodded, unable to articulate the word yes.
“Because if you don’t, you can go back to Earth, but I would be disappointed. I picked you for a reason. There is something about you and I want to know what it is that makes my cock go hard every time I look at you.” He snatched her hand, dragged it lower, past his waist and shoved her palm against his crotch. She felt the hardness under the clothing, the bulge of a cock growing in size—neither inert nor fully erect. What lay there had the potential to be huge. Her skin prickled with fresh perspiration and she rammed her thighs together. He let go, reached out and stroked a finger along her cheek, a caress, almost affectionate in nature, then he snatched it away.
“Let’s go, then,” said Blake.
Chapter Two
Blake steered her down various corridors holding her by her upper arm in a pincer grip. Part of her wanted to run away, head straight back to the spaceport and demand passage on the next available shuttle. Another part of her couldn’t face failure. She’d concocted this grand scheme of hers two years ago. She needed to spend time on a mining colony and marrying was the only way to achieve her ambition. Unfortunately, it meant consenting to be part of a system she detested—she believed the loss of empowerment of women in society would be its downfall. However, many did not support her opinion—she felt like a voice shouting against the wind.
His grip remained tight, reminding her once married she would have little say in her life. Corporate wives were there to be at the beck and call of their husbands, feed them, care for them and make them happy. The wives’ duty was to keep the workforce in good spirits and unlikely to rebel at the appalling working conditions and negligent safety record.
They came to vast open area, where the roof of the dome rose up and let in more sunlight. A weak radiance compared to what Earth experienced.
“This is the heart of the colony,” explained Blake. “Over there are the administrative offices of the mining boss, who’s called Ridley, and the enforcement team for maintaining order.” He pointed at a secure doorway. “I’ll show you around another time.”
As they walked, other miners greeted Blake. They smirked at him, cocking their heads in the direction of Lysa or gave him a thumbs up. Some even commented. “Hot babe, Blake,” or, “Good looker.” Lysa wanted to shout back at them, remind them she was more than a glorified sex toy. Blake merely nodded in agreement, but said nothing.
She saw women too. Young like her but dressed scantily and always in short skirts or dresses. She looked down at her baggy pants. How long would she get away with wearing such clothes if she was expected to wear next to nothing?
The women glanced in her direction, a quick flit of their eyes and a quizzical furrowing of the eyebrows. Lysa didn’t look like a typical Corporate wife, perhaps they thought she was a love wife, one of those who married before arriving on the colony, except she walked with Blake, an unmarried man and he held her in his grasp.
They came to a doorway and Blake pressed an intercom pad.
“Name?”
“Blake.”
The door unlocked and Blake pushed it open.
Lysa’s feet turned to lead, weighing her down and they wouldn’t budge.
“Lysa,” said Blake in her ear, “nobody is going to hurt you.” He shifted his hand, moving it from her arm and took hold her hand. He gave it a squeeze.
She entered the medical centre with little understanding of what awaited her.
* * *
Since the moment she’d arrived on the colony, Blake had struggled to keep his hands off her. His cock kept hardening, especially after he’d kissed her quivering lips. She seemed far more fragile than what he’d seen on the digital screen. Smaller, slighter, paler. However, the fire in her eyes remained clear and burnt brightly. What made it so remained a mystery.
He could have delayed the examination to the next day—an Earth day—the colonies ignored Callisto’s own orbital day and kept to Earth’s calendar. She needed to rest and recuperate, but an uncharacteri
stic display of impatience crept over him and he wanted to know now if she was compatible for him. He had requirements, things he expected from her and the medic’s examination would provide him with answers.
The challenge would be watching. The doctor would be clinical in his approach to the examination. Blake didn’t worry about the man’s ethics or professional ability to conduct the intimate inspection. What caused him problems was his own fascination with Lysa’s body. His balls already ached and she’d yet to undress.
“Blake,” the doctor shook hands with him. “Finally succumbed to the charms of a wife, heh?” He chortled.
Blake shrugged. “Needs must.” He turned to Lysa, who remained in a state of perpetual nerves with quivering lips and darting eyes. “This is Doc Lamont. Head of Medical Services. He will conduct your check-up.”
“A… man?” she stammered.
“Sorry. There are no female doctors out here,” Blake explained. The one technical profession women were still allowed to join but none could be lured to work on a colony.
“Try to relax, Lysa,” said Dr Lamont. “Come this way.”
He led Blake and Lysa into the examination room. She halted and Blake bumped into her back. In the middle of the room stood the exam table with stirrups and straps.
“Oh no.” She spun about and faced him. “This… This is…”
“This is what is going to happen. You’re going to undress and let the doctor check you over. That’s it, Lysa.” Blake folded his arms across his chest. “Now, be a good girl and get undressed.”
She stepped to one side of him and scanned the room. “Where’s a gown for me to wear?”
“You’re not going to need one. The doc wants you naked.”
She scuttled backwards and bumped into a stirrup, then recoiled as if bitten by a snake. Her eyes wide open and her mouth agape. “I barely know you and I don’t know him at all.” She stabbed a finger at the doctor.
Her display of resistance didn’t surprise him. She glared back at him, her eyes narrowing into slits. However, if she didn’t accept the situation, she’d find him less than pleased with her behaviour. If only he could… no, not yet. Once they signed the marriage contract, he would enact an appropriate form of discipline. However, those tools were not available to him now. She had her rights and all he could do was cajole or coax her into doing as he asked.
“Lysa, we can’t force you,” said Blake. “However, without this, you’ll not be allowed to marry me.”
“I have to sign you off,” added the doctor. “Believe it or not, some women have bribed their way onto the list and then turned out to be incompatible.”
Lysa went pale. “Bribed,” she repeated.
“This is a prestigious status for a woman—a miner’s wife. When you return to Earth, if you remain married the couple are guaranteed housing, work and excellent health care. Even if you divorce, you both get a big financial bonus. Think of the alternative. A life in measly accommodations, toiling in the fields to grow crops, or manning the recycling plants sifting through rubbish. Nobody wants those jobs and some resort to desperate measures to get in the catalogue. All you have to do is let me examine you—a standard medical test.”
“What happens to these women?”
“Depends if they’re caught. I’m thorough, unlike my colleagues on Earth. How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-two.”
“Good,” continued the doctor. “I will check your breasts for sensitivity. Then, I’ll examine your genitalia and ensure you are in good sexual health. Our men want responsive women, able to have pleasure freely and orgasm.”
“And these women fake this back on Earth?” she asked.
“Paid somebody to turn a blind eye and not necessarily using money. Corruption is rife in some parts of the Corp. Now up here, with your future husband watching, there is no escaping the truth. If you can’t handle the sexual requirements, Blake here has the right to send you back.”
Her face turned another shade paler.
The doctor turned to Blake. “Anything else you might want to know?”
“Orgasm?” suggested Blake. He had to see for himself what she could do, how she looked when she came. His cock shifted in his pants just thinking about her moaning with pleasure. Months of celibacy and he was hours away from a decent fuck. Patience, dammit! He had to show her he wasn’t a harsh man, that he could be a friend, if she let him.
“Oh yes. You’ll be required to orgasm. Some women can’t and fake it. Not something Blake would like.” Dr Lamont patted Blake’s arm and grinned.
“See,” said Blake, edging closer to the stunned Lysa who remained backed against the exam table. “Nothing painful. In fact, doesn’t it sound fun?”
* * *
Fun! How could he use such a word? Naked, spread wide, poked, prodded and forced to orgasm. What a performance she was expected to put on for them. Pain wasn’t the issue for Lysa, it was the abject humiliation she feared.
She glanced at the trolley by the exam table. A speculum wrapped in a sterile covering, swabs, a weird looking probe and lubricant. All laid out ready for her. She ran a finger along the stirrup and touched the strap. “What’s this for?”
The doctor glanced at Blake then back to her. “Your safety.”
Safety. She guffawed and rolled her eyes up. They couldn’t force her, but they would make sure once she’d stripped and laid down she wasn’t going to change her mind.
“Lysa, if we’re going to be man and wife, you have to trust me. That trust starts right now.” Blake cupped his hands about her face and gazed straight into her eyes. She flinched. Such dark eyes, black pits, and they made her tummy flip with small somersaults, frazzling her thoughts.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to find a way to accept him into her life, because if her plan was going to work, she needed his support. Perhaps, the examination would help conquer her anxieties about the future. If she could see her way through this, then she would tell him, open up and let him know the truth. If he cooperated, they could marry and cement their relationship. All they had to be was friends, nothing else. She didn’t expect anything else.
“Well?” Blake stroked a finger down her cheek.
Lysa sighed. A few hours was all it had taken to break down her determined façade of confidence. She’d had plenty of medicals before now, why did this one present problems? “Fine,” she scowled.
She straightened up and squared off her shoulders. She hadn’t reached this far without taking risks. It was time to rebuild her poise—by taking off her clothes. The irony wasn’t lost on her. Blake stepped back, creating space between them. She fingered her top. A layer of clammy perspiration clung to her skin, gluing her clothes on. Lifting it over her head, she uncovered her bra. Next, she slipped down her pants, shaking them off her feet, and added them to the clothes already folded on a stool.
“All your clothes, please,” reminded Blake. He’d not taken his eyes off her.
Lysa unclasped her bra. She kept her arm looped around her bosom, hiding her nipples and with the other hand, she picked at the elasticated waistband.
“Let me help.” Blake knelt at her feet, and before she could protest, peeled her panties down her thighs. “Step out of them.” She lifted her feet one by one, then swiftly covered her sex with a hand.
He scrunched her panties in his hand, as if he didn’t want to let them go, then added them to her pile of clothes. Blake move out of the way, allowing the doctor to stand in front of Lysa.
“Arms to your sides, please.” Dr Lamont tapped her elbow.
Lysa chewed her lower lip and curled her toes into balls at her feet. She bared her breasts and stood to attention, arms rigid at her sides, but kept her thighs clamped together.
She glanced up, straight into the eyes of the doctor. Unlike Blake, the medic had grey hairs poking out around his temples and a smattering of wrinkles about his lips. His hooked nose protruded out of his face, making him appear hawkish. Looking
over her shoulder, she watched Blake rest his shoulders against the wall and cross his ankles. She could easily warm to his handsome features and burly physique. Things could be much worse.
The doctor checked the glands in her neck. “How was the spaceflight? Any problems with the slipstream?”
Lysa shook her head. “No. A little dizziness and nausea at first.”
“It happens.” He flicked a torch in her eyes and she blinked several times. “Put your hands on your head. I’m going to examine your breasts.”
Her arms shook as she raised them. She grasped her hair, clinging on to her scalp. Dr Lamont cupped her right breast, lifting it and let it bounce in his palm. His gentle touch caused a ripple of shivers to rush down her spine. He repeated with the other breast, using both hands at the same time as if to weigh them up in scales.
Lysa squeezed her eyes shut. This didn’t seem to be a regular breast examination. He palpated around her nipples with two fingers, pressing harder until she winced. If any other man touched her in such a groping fashion, she’d belt him one.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I don’t mean to be harsh, but overly sensitive tissue might cause you problems.” He pinched a nipple between his finger and thumb, rolling it back and forth. With a tug, he stretched the erect nipple out, twisting it as he elongated the rigid tissue.
Lysa snatched a breath, then held it as he let go. A moment of sharp pain and she gasped. Seconds later, the discomfort had gone.
He’d been watching her intently, nodding at her little exclamation. “All’s good. Quite normal.”
What did he expect? For her to burst into tears? “Of course,” she retorted. She was proud of her breasts, their form and pertness suited her slender build.
The doctor walked around her and ran his hand over each of her buttock cheeks. “Ample here,” he remarked. “Always worth having some padding.” Lysa rose up on her tiptoes as he pinched a cheek. What the hell was that about?
