Shared by the Barbarians by Emily Tilton

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