Shared by the Barbarians by Emily Tilton Page A

proved their prowess before their elders. But the women of the Trestrimar had never interested him in the way he had always thought he should be interested in the thoughts and feelings of the girl you married.
    Life as a mercenary in the Vionian Empire had shown him how many different women existed in the galaxy. Of Vionian girls he had fucked a score: the matrons and the virgins of the empire seemed to have an insatiable appetite for barbarian cock, and at first he had thought them simply perfumed versions of the women of the Trestrimar. Certainly they had the same need for a barbarian’s dominance around which Trestrin the Founder had organized the law of the Trestrimar.
    But he soon found that the women of the empire, elegant as they appeared, regarded him as no more than a piece of hard muscle and a manhood bigger than any they had seen on a Vionian. He had enjoyed himself, but it was only on campaign that he seemed to find girls, among the peoples of the worlds he helped subjugate, who began to make him think there might be a sort of girl with whom a man would wish to spend more time than it took to pleasure until she knew not whether to beg him to stop or to continue, to spurt his seed inside her and over her skin to mark his dominance.
    Still, on his first two campaigns, though he had formed liaisons with a girl each time, and cared for her according the law of the Trestrimar for couples who might wed, including of course sharing each girl with Hed and Kar, and he had wondered if he might be falling in love with each of them, in the end he had thought it best to return the girls to their families, after the Vionian conquest had swept all before it and left a peaceful, if unhappy, planet behind. Sharing the girls with his brothers had given all of them such pleasure, though, that they had discussed whether a marriage of brothers in one cunt might make them happiest in the end, if they could only find the right girl.
    Sherdon had been Pag’s third campaign. He still didn’t understand why Jalinda had affected him as she had. Perhaps the customs of the Sherdonians, with their same-sex educational institutions, had imbued her with a kind of modesty he had never seen in a woman before, which, combined with her flaming red hair and the green eyes in her lovely heart-shaped face, had taken his heart as captive as Pag had taken her body. As he had walked her to the Vionian headquarters, through the eerily silent streets of her surrendered town, he had not been able to resist starting a strange conversation with the girl he knew he must deliver up to his imperial employers, asking her questions and thinking hard about her answers.
    “Here on Sherdon, you go to a girls’ school?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you like it?”
    He had glanced back at her, where she walked a pace behind him, hands folded in front of her and eyes downcast.
    She had looked up in apparent confusion. “Will I still go there? I mean, why do ? And not did ?”
    Pag had felt his brow furrow. “I mean did,” he said. “You will go to a Vionian reeducation school now, I think, or…”
    “Or what?”
    Pag had hesitated, hardly knowing why. Surely he could tell this girl that she could expect a brutal fucking at the hands of the general or one of his officers? He was a man of the Trestrimar, and men of the Trestrimar told girls how it would be. When he fucked Vionian matrons, the most aristocratic of women, he told them to kneel and to raise their rumps and he fucked them there as long and as hard as he liked. At feasts, he told Vionian virgins that he would deflower them that night, in their bedchambers, so they should leave the door as open as their legs and cunts would soon be.
    “Or,” he said, “you will be taken to Vion, to serve.”
    “To serve whom?”
    Pag’s face had gotten hot, then—the most unaccustomed of feelings for him. Maybe that was the moment he fell in love.
    “You will know soon enough,” he had said shortly, and turned away to