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.