Bound by Her Promise

Lysa started. Punishment block! PB… The lettering above the doorway not far from the Green Dome. She swallowed. “Have you been in there?”

“So far, only to witness a punishment. Bastard of a man, that constable.”

“Constable?” Lysa’s pulse rate increased with every passing second. The rumours she’d heard on Earth couldn’t be true.

“The adjudicator’s stooge. One dishes out the sentence, the other carries it out with rather too much jubilation.”

Lysa’s hand trembled about the trowel. “What kind of punishments?”

“You know. Spread-eagled. The usual—”

“Jen!” Somebody screeched her name across the dome. Jen bounced to her feet. “Sym.”

The two friends hugged. Lysa was left on the side lines, as Jen and Sym bantered, picking up the threads of discarded conversations. She waited, keen to know what Jen had been about to say. The usual punishments? Meaning?

Jen halted. “Sorry, I’m being rude. Sym, this Lysa.”

Lysa rose, dusting the dirt off her legs and smiled at Sym—a raven headed girl with pretty eyes and snub nose. She looked so young.

“You’re married to Craig?” Lysa remembered meeting the man with the scar.

“Yes,” she blushed. “Three months. Jen and I arrived on the same shuttle.”

“Your husbands, they…” Lysa struggled to find the appropriate words, “are good company?”

Sym flushed even brighter. “Yes,” she squeaked.

Jen put her arm around Sym. “She’s finding it tough aren’t you, sweetie. A bit homesick and Craig, well, he’s a rutting gorilla. He likes to watch, too.”

Lysa’s eyes opened wide. “Watch. What?”

Jen rolled her eyes up. “Getting fucked. What do you think? He passes her around to whoever, unmarried or married, it doesn’t bother Craig or Yuri for that matter. He offered me to Blake once, but Blake wasn’t interested.” She chuckled. “Didn’t want me either, which was a shame. A threesome with Yuri would have been fun.”

“Doesn’t the Corporation mind, I mean aren’t they bothered by all this wife swapping?”

Both girls laughed. “They like the men happy,” explained Jen. “As long as nobody gets hurt, they don’t care what goes on in our pods. Outside, in the public area, we wives are meant to be polite, respectful or it’s the punishment block.”

It was Lysa’s turn to blush, she pressed a hand to her hot cheek. What to say? The two friends saved her from further embarrassment and opted to finish their stint in the plant house. They waved goodbye, but Lysa decided to stay behind and work for another hour.

Wiping her brow, she spied a small group of women over by the chicken coop collecting eggs. Picking up her trowel, she walked over to them, determined to make the acquaintance of more wives.

“Hello,” she announced. “I’m Lysa.”

Her smile this time didn’t work because nobody returned the greeting. They looked her up and down, as if she was diseased. “One of them,” sneered a tall woman.

She clutched the trowel handle tighter. “Them?”

“Those sluts who come up here from Earth, thinking they’re the best.”

Lysa took a step back. “I’m a wife, like you,” she snapped.

“No, not like us,” said the tall woman. “We are real wives. No getting divorced and pocketing the money. You’re no better than a sex slave or a whore.”

Lysa backed away. “I was only trying to make friends,” she stuttered.

“We don’t make friends with your type,” glared another woman with blonde hair. “Do we, Millicent?” she addressed the tall woman.

Millicent laughed. “Hell freeze over first, Oona.”