First Night on Caledonia

Dr. Renee Carter perused the photographs brought back recently by the Explorer 22. It was a beautiful country—something like a Middle Eastern culture in a place as lush and tropical as the Caribbean. The citizens looked so much like humans it was difficult to believe they were an alien race.

At first glance, the land was a paradise. Everyone seemed happy, or at least contented with their lots, from the very rich down to the poorest farmers or vendors in the streets. But as the foremost expert on Caledonian culture in the world, Dr. Carter knew about the fundamental transgressions of basic rights denied a large part of their population.

The women were servants. Slaves, even. Every single Caledonian male—from infancy to old age—owned at least one. From the point they were old enough to reproduce, a Caledonian boy purchased his very first lianir, or sexual slave. This served as the right of passage to manhood, and was the closest thing to marriage existent on Caledonia. In time, if the lianir grew too old to bear children, or no longer roused the desire of the master, he installed her in a different part of his household and procured a younger, more attractive lianir. Caledonian males could only own one sex slave at a time, but there was no difficulty discarding one for another.

As a woman, Dr. Carter found the entire order disgusting. Never mind that the women seemed effusively happy. They simply didn't know any better. But as a professional, she had to acknowledge the fact that in two hundred years of space exploration, Caledonia was the closest thing to Earth ever discovered. And so it behooved them to study and eventually make plans for colonization in a less inhabited part of the planet. The need for room to grow was dire on Earth now, and this was their only hope.

"See anything you like?"

Dr. Carter looked up from the images and recognized her supervisor, Dr. Gerald Thompson. "As always, a mix of beauty and misogynistic superiority."

The older man peered over her shoulder and chuckled. "True, true. I need to speak with you, Carter, if you have a moment."

She followed him to his office, a large, over-designed space with wide windows overlooking the blue and white sphere framed in black below them. Life on the Space Station Theses was cramped, and the size of Dr. Thompson's office always bothered her.

"Please, sit." He sank behind his desk and thumbed through a few papers on his desk. "You'll be pleased to hear that you have been promoted. Rogers himself delivered these to me today."

Surprised and caught off guard, Dr. Carter took the offered papers and skimmed over them. Chief of Exploratory Expeditions. Even more surprised, her eyes flew up and caught the gleam of triumph in her superior's eyes. "What's this?"

"We have the orders we have been waiting for. In order to proceed with the colonization effort, we need someone to infiltrate their society and gain their trust. This way, we can know what's best for both cultures."

"I don't understand why this requires me."

"I'm surprised, Renee..." he spread his hands and eyed her in a way that made Dr. Carter uneasy. "A woman of your qualifications. Stature. You're the perfect one to lead the operation."

Leaning forward so that the full force of her cold gray eyes could do their damage, Dr. Carter glared at the man behind the desk. "What you mean is that you need two things—an expert on Caledonian culture and a woman with large mammary glands."

But Dr. Thompson only shrugged. "It does us no good if our man is poor and unimportant. All our reports indicate that a large-breasted lianir is a direct indicator of a man's power. The larger the breasts, the weaker the woman, the stronger the man."

"I'm not weak, Dr. Thompson. And I won't agree to this mission."

"Yes you will. Sexist or not, this is the only way to save millions of lives on Earth. We need to move fast and though there are many woman available with large enough breasts, there is no one, male or female, with your knowledge. Anyone less, and we fail. They still do public executions in Caledonia for anyone who breaks the laws. We can't afford to break any, and you know them. Most of them, anyway."

"It's impossible to know everything from orbital observance and ground transmissions," she agreed, already warming to the idea against her will. She truly was the only one for the job, but how could she stand to function, to blend in with a culture like that? "For how long?" she hedged at length.

"As long as it takes. Four months, a year. Or longer beyond colonization if you wish. We have an expertly forged stockpile of currency, so you will not lack for wealth, and we have installed communication devices into your UTs if you are ever in danger or need more money. The goal is to be self-sufficient but we have no idea how long that sort of establishment might take."

"I'll need time to consider," Dr. Carter said finally, rising from her chair. "Please have the full mission brief on my desk as soon as possible." Though she knew she had to accept she wanted more time to get used to the idea. Yes, that was all she needed, was time.

Two days later, and already kicking herself for overlooking the obvious, Dr. Carter stood in the transmission chamber across from handsome First Lieutenant Jack Griffin. He had unnerved her from the moment he first set foot on this station, and it just figured that Thompson would choose the one man available that set her teeth on edge.

Blond, tall, built lean like a modern gladiator, Griffin would look good in those low-slung linen kilts favored by Caledonian men. He would also fit right in with those chauvinist alien pigs. Here was one man who was born for Caledonian life.

At the flash of approval in his eyes, Dr. Carter felt her prim bun at the back of her head to make sure all the strands stayed in place. It would have to go as soon as they were in public, but for now, her hair was her own.

"You will keep your first names. This will remove any chance of a slip, but your full names have been altered. Lieutenant, you will be Jaq Giraiphin," Thompson handed Griffin the bio paper, "and Dr. you will be Renei ob'a Giraiphin."

She bristled, in part because the prefix itself was offensive, and in part because of the embarrassing heat flooding her cleft. The crude translation of ob'a was "fucked by" and looking at the man they would call "Giraiphin," the images crowding her mind were not welcome in the least.

Flipping through his dossier, Jack could not believe his good fortune. When he'd first come to the Theses, he thought he'd come to purgatory. A true, sausage-fest since the only woman he'd seen was past forty and dumpy—not exactly his style back on Earth. But then he'd met Dr. Carter and he thought his luck had improved. Thick black hair she hardly ever let down, creamy skin, lush lips and an ass that just begged for a spanking, she had him hard from the moment he saw her. But she had rebuffed him at every turn, and it was almost heartbreaking to see a rack like that wasted on a prude. And a geek at that.

But now, oh now, everything was different. According to everything he'd read and been told, he was going to a place where women were completely and utterly dominated by men, and where Dr. Carter—Renee—would have no choice but to play along or fail. Nevermind the strain he saw behind her eyes, in time she would come to understand that he would treat her well—in exactly the way she truly desired.

The haze of interspace transmission faded, and the two humans squinted in the glaring sunlight. They stood on a beach, wide and white and in the distance rose the low towers of Barithsan, the capital of Caledonia. Looking around to get their bearings, Jack spotted a fishing boat not far up the coastline, though it was too far for the fisherman to really notice the people in strange clothing materializing out of thin air.

"Well," Jack said, with more relish than he'd intended. "Let's get started."

Renee glared at him but reached for her pack. "Turn around."

He didn't remind her that she'd better be careful about giving orders in the future, but for now the most important thing was to get her out of that too-concealing uni-suit, down to the Caledonian "outfit" he knew she was wearing underneath.

He heard the whine of zippers, and the rustle of falling space suit, and before she gave permission, he turned.

And went hard, instantly.

It was a common enough style on Caledonia, but on Renee, the two-pieced garment was straight out of a boy's wet dream. Thin, white fabric stretched around her back and barely covered her tits before thin strings crossed the rest of her chest to tie around her neck. The bottom of the material hung free so that the slightest breeze flashed glimpses of round, heavy flesh.

She gasped and tried to cover herself with her hands, but not before he saw the bottom part. Made out of the same white material and slung low on her hips, the fabric hung straight and long like an exotic loincloth. The thin gold chain holding it up bit deep into the soft flesh of her hips and ass, accentuating every lovely curve below her trim waist. Unlike some girls he'd dated who worked out to keep their bodies hard and toned, Renee was all woman. Built for sex. Made for bearing children.

"How dare you!" she seethed, holding her tits in a way that did nothing to cool his thoughts.

"You better get used to it. Remember what they told us." His voice was rough with arousal.

And she did remember. It was humiliating to stand here in this mockery of an outfit and know that she had to wear this and worse over the course of the next four months—that's all it would be, she was determined to it. Still, it wasn't fair that he should have all the fun. And it was his role too. "You have to take yours off too."

Oh that was a mistake. His grin split wide and devastating, and as he unzipped his suit and shrugged out of it, she knew that her prediction had been accurate. That linen kilt did fit him very nicely, leaving his chest bare to her eyes. Gold cuffs encircled his wrists and around his neck he wore the gold coins of their fortune, overlapping one another and forming a sort of collar just above his pecs. On his feet he wore comfortable sandals.

Renee looked down into her pack at her change of shoes. Built like heeled Grecian sandals, the platforms would pitch her feet at a precarious height, showing her legs off to perfection and with the long ties wrapping all the way to her knees, the shoes ensured that she could never run. Walking would be difficult. This was hell. With resignation, she turned her back on Griffin—Jack—and began to affix the terrible things to her feet. When both were tied securely, she tried to stand but the loose sand gave way beneath. Pitching sideways, she started to fall—

—and warm hands caught her around her waist. She looked up into the smiling, golden face of Jack Griffin and hated herself for enjoying relying on his strength. "Thank you," she said with some reluctance.

"Anytime." Again, that boyish grin caught her off guard. "I guess it's a good thing we have to 'swim to safety' instead of walk, huh?" "I guess," she said, and pulled the band out of her hair. At least it covered some of her exposed skin.

He threw the meager remains of their Earth life into the ocean and helped Renee down into the water. The plan was to appear shipwrecked from a distant city. That would explain idiosyncrasies in behavior and dress, and also the lack of an entourage for a wealthy man. They would make their new life based on the gold around Jack's neck, his cunning, and Renee's ability to understand how these people worked.

Between her shoes and the weight around his neck, it was fortunate that Jack and Renee only needed to wade to approach the fishermen. As it was, they were soaked through and appropriately exhausted by the time they came within shouting distance to the ship.

"Ho there!" Jack called, hoping the Universal Translators worked well enough here. "Help us and I will reward you handsomely!"

Greed helped every decision along faster, and before long, they were on the fishing boat and finished explaining their story. "I have only the gold around my neck and my latest lianir," Jack finished, gesturing his shoulder to where Renee sat and shivered in the transparent garment. He felt a stab of jealousy that the five men in the boat could see so much of her, but he knew he had to get over that. They were all but drooling over her, but she was his property, and especially as the lianir of a man of wealth, they would not touch her.

"Eh, poor misfortune for a very wealthy man," one of them said, eyeing her tits with greed.

"Yes. I am eager to set up a new palace in Baristhan so I can fuck her senseless. Hey Slut!" he shouted and quivering with anger, Renee swayed over to stand by him. The loud, sharp smack on her ass brought a tear to her eye and laughter to the fishermen.

"She is new, yes?" a short, squat man asked eagerly, licking his lips.

"Very." He grinned, and with a dash of inspiration, he added, "I just purchased her from her father not five days ago."

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he realized his mistake. Renee was 26, young by Earth standards, but not exactly fresh from her father's harem. The man that must have been the captain scowled. "You are her first at her age?" Jack thought quickly, then remembered his supposed wealth. "With charms like hers, her father waited for the highest possible payment. I was passing through."

That seemed to satisfy them. With some reluctance, they returned to their duties, but not without a lingering glance at Renee. When the men were out of earshot, she lowered her voice and hissed, "Fantastic. You're dumber than I thought you were. Save your little attempts at clever banter for drunk girls at parties back home."

She obviously needed to learn how to stay in character. The insults rolled off Jack harmlessly, and instead of responding with words, he reached up and pinched her nipple through the damp fabric. She yelped and tried to jerk away, but he twisted harder and caught her around the waist with the other hand. "On this planet, in this world, we blend in. That means learning your place, woman." He released her nipple and enjoyed the way she panted and tried not to meet his gaze. "What is it you're supposed to call me?"

Cold eyes found his. "Master," she spat.

He grabbed the other nipple and pinched. "With respect."

"Master!" she whimpered, a look of hate in her eyes even as she succumbed to the torture of his fingertips.

"That's better." He let her go and turned away to look out at the sea. If only he could control the blatant arousal of his cock as easily as he could control her with her fat tits. Renee sank to her knees on the deck, wishing the dampness in her loincloth was entirely from the seawater. This response went against everything she had always believed. She didn't deserve this just because she was a woman! A small voice reminded her that she had agreed to this project, and that for the sake of the people of Earth she had to persevere. She had to endure sexy Jack—and all his arrogant, rude, bigoted ways.

When the ship came to dock in Baristhan, Jack took her hand and helped her down the plank. On hard stone, she was able to stand better, but realized a new problem. Standing straight on this heels thrust her breasts out farther and tightened her butt to stick out in the other direction. A provocative stance, and all the sailors noticed.

Everyone, except Jack. He was suddenly immune to the arousal she had witnessed earlier on the boat. He even turned away from her to discuss housing options with some men on the quay. Renee wanted desperately to listen in, to share her opinions, and to give him advice on how to talk with these people, but talking to a man not her master without her master's permission was a beating offense.

It was very late in the day by the time Jack found them a dwelling—and Renee had to hand it to him. In the space of one day, he had secured a small palace. The "house" was breathtaking. The previous occupants had done something to displease the king, and so it had become conveniently available. At this point, Renee didn't care about the details.

She had never known herself to be so overcome by the sight of jewels and gold. She even found herself warming to Jack for purchasing all this for her.

Shock ran cold through her veins. Was she thinking like a woman of Caledonia? Happily selling their freedom for riches and security? It was a startling realization. And for the first time, Renee gained a glimmer of understanding for their way of life.

Jack too, was overflowing with good humor. He had retrieved a portion of his hidden stash of currency to pay for the palace, but there was plenty left over to figure out a means of continuing his wealth. After getting his first taste of Caledonian life, he was certain now that if things went his way with a certain Earthwoman, he wouldn't be going back.

"You like it?"

She hesitated, then gave him honesty. "Yes. It's beautiful."

"I'm glad."

She graced him with a small smile, and turned away. "Come here."

She stopped and looked back over her shoulder, her smile gone. "Excuse me?"

"Do not use that tone when speaking to me, woman. Do as you're told. Remember your rules." Yes, she remembered. Spies were more common than police here in Baristhan. They were new here, so of course they would be watched. She had no choice.

Her heart hammering, she approached him, strangely upset that she didn't inspire him to arousal. He appeared completely unaffected. It was a blow to her confidence, and unbeknownst to Renee, it showed.

Jack saw the slight cowed expression in her eyes. Now was his window of opportunity. "I know you understand the basic rules, but I have some new rules and things I have observed that you need to take to heart. Some Caledonian wisdom, if you will. The women here are blissfully happy, and you will be too once you understand some truths that have been kept from you your whole life."

Renee's anger rose at the tone of his voice, but the timbre had her blood flowing thicker.

"As a woman, you were born to service men. That is your purpose. You don't need to worry about decisions because I will make them for you." He moved closer and crossed around to stand directly behind her. Cupping one breast possessively in his hand, he whispered in her ear. "Beautiful, fat tits like these mean several things. One, you are weak. Because they are so heavy, you will never be able to run fast. Your arm strength is sapped by holding up their weight, so you will never be able to fight back. The other thing is that men will desire you. It is a biological fact. You're a scientist. Fat tits make more milk for all the babies you'll bear for me."

Her breath caught in her throat as he pinched both nipples. Babies! But they were only going to be here for four months, after that she was gone!

"I know what you're thinking, but give up." His voice was low, and her pussy responded to the authority in his voice. "You have no forms of birth control. I'm going to fill you so full of cum, you'll be overflowing. And with a plug up your cunt—oh yes, you'll wear one after every time I fuck you—none of my seed will slip out." His mouth closed over the base of her neck, and all of a sudden, Renee felt the weakness in herself that he had described. Her breasts were so heavy...and she had no choice but to do as he wished. Hell, just the idea of no control left her throbbing.

But Jack wasn't finished. He smelled her readiness even without touching her, but he had found something very interesting in all the houses he had looked at today, and it was why he'd chosen this particular one. It was time to take Renee—Renei, as he would think of her from then on—to see where she would get her fucking As soon as Jack pushed the door aside, Renei's heart jumped with fear. It was a torture chamber—straight out of some kind of twisted, Middle Eastern nightmare. Rows and rows of gadgets adorned the garish walls, and gold tassels hung from various apparati.