Castaway: Promise Keeper
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2017 by Feral Lady

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Von Solon Saga's 4th story, which only makes sense if you have read the prior stories. This tale takes place in Juniper Hills the settlement that our hero established. Here he is creating a culture of creativity and social advancement. However, he has promises to keep and women to keep happy. It is a lot of work to balance work and wives. How is he going to do that?

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Mult   Fiction   Science Fiction   Space   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Interracial   Body Modification  

“Of course, I used my skills to manipulate and improve my co-father’s genetics. One of my tasks was to make sure that Solon genetic material was the generator rather than the product of social change. What I am interested in are outcomes.” — Audio from the first contact team with Webster (Declassified Imperial Intelligence Brief)

Mission Log:

File H01560 labeled Community represents my growth model of a town’s development. Project Community is the structural constraints particular to Solon’s homestead. This model’s system is a function of human interactions with technology, organization and values. In general, technology refers to tools used for accomplishing work. Much of the relevant technology used in Juniper Hills is both hardware and the advanced techniques used to achieve right behaviors and successful outcomes. An example of Solon’s application of technology is hand pumps on wagons to fight fires with hoses rather than water buckets. When deciding what technology to apply, my co-father takes the safety of our family seriously, but he attempts to avoid technical advances that might shock his society. Organization is another connecting point to the growth model that refers to concepts, like division of labor, processes, and administration. The Value node represents sets of beliefs in social ethics, divine myths, attitudes, goals and the paradoxes of human discourse. After a long period of reflection and calculation, I concluded variables surrounding the Value node are the most difficult to quantify. Human variability of physical and mental characteristics, combined with their duplicity and paradoxical behaviors, create large deviations in critical inputs to my model. This exercise taught me frustration.


The tower door opened. A young maiden walked in, sniffing tubular purple flowers. A pleasant, strong aroma filled my nose. Her brown garb, that of a healing trainee, swished to a stop when she saw me in the doorway. She threw off her hood, and we could see it was Brook, the fifteen-year-old version of my wife Hazel, her second-oldest daughter after Celine. Her brown eyes squinted and darted around, tallying up who was in her way. Since she saw her lord with one of his ladies, she bowed.

“Enough of that,” Laudus commanded. “Bring the lavender stalks upstairs and hang them in the wardrobe with Mistress Aberdeen’s clothes. They will help with repelling moths.”

Hazel’s daughter broke from her dazed state and ran for the stairs. She had a demure innocence that always attracted my eyes. Fortunately, Brook seemed happiest in the company of her girlfriends and hadn’t chased me around like her sister had at her age. Not that the girl didn’t flirt with me like other teenaged girls her age; indeed she did, but she acted more formally and respectfully, like her mentor Laudus. For whatever reason, Brook modeled herself after Laudus and listened to Palus more than her mother. Nevertheless, Brook was acting more skittish around me of late.

Laudus stepped off the stairs and walked over to us saying, “Palus is fine. She has the jeweler with her and a small crowd of onlookers.”

I turned my head to look where Laudus was looking. Palus and a black, thirty-something woman were arm-in-arm, approaching our residence; my wife walked with a natural grace, which turned more provocative when she saw me. In fact, Palus walked with the confidence of a conqueror showing off a captive. Her brown hair bounced around her shoulders as she looked around. In contrast, the broad-shouldered black woman looked reluctant, as if she was about to enter a dark and dreary dungeon. Her energy seemed to be dwindling with each step, fear and resignation weighing on her features. The woman’s skin was a shade darker than I was accustomed to seeing; it was an interesting issue to consider at another time. The dark woman was neither athletic nor fat, and her dress encumbered her, marking her as city folk as much as her overly-long raven hair did.

She was no assassin, but a highborn merchant. I drew a long breath, and then expelled it with relief. My lover was safe. The dark-skinned lady couldn’t be classified as attractive; her nose had been broken in the past and an earlobe had a big cyst. However, a smattering of freckles across her check added a cuteness factor.

Palus brighten her smile as she entered the room. Indeed, her beetle-black eyes shone triumphantly at me. They stopped immediately in front of us. At first, her companion looked weak-kneed. The woman tucked her head into Palus’s neck, overcome with feelings as her body shook. Palus wrapped her arms around the older woman and looked at me. I tried to come to grips with what we were seeing.

“Ahahah,” the woman moaned.

“She belongs with Von,” Laudus declared. “It’s clear as a cloudless day. She is clenching with pleasure and has a weak aura like a recently claimed concubine.”

“Seems Usha has been a long, long time without a man,” Palus chirped. “Von, meet Usha Herteen, the jeweler.”

Swarta’s long fingers drummed restlessly on her thigh. She watched the drama, and then turned to me. “Some things happen for a reason and we can’t immediately see why. For now, Laudus take Usha to the concubine barracks and talk to her.”

Palus looked surprised at the instruction. The woman clutched her, gulping air while keeping her face buried from view. Palus was a problem solver. She loved the challenge of healing people and finding ways to make their lives better. However, Palus wasn’t interested in personally steering all the issues facing our household, so she almost always deferred such decision to Swarta.

“It’s best someone else talk with her. You’re too close to her,” Swarta explained. “There is no reason you can’t follow up with Usha after we have a little chat and you take a few minutes to check on your children.”

I broke my silence. “Yes, I’d like to hear how this situation developed.”

Palus looked at me while patting the jeweler’s back. Her mouth twitched upwards with amusement as she collected her thoughts. After a moment, Palus gently pushed the woman away from her neck and body. “Usha, please go with Laudus, who is a noble woman. You can speak to her plainly about how you are feeling and why you are in Juniper Hills. She has counseled many women and talked them through these new feelings.”

Usha managed to say, “This is so humiliating.” Tears welled up and overflowed down her cheeks.

She has sharp creases around her mouth and a furrowed forehead, I thought abstractly.

As tears continued to fall, Laudus put her arm around the woman and marched her out the door. A wide-eyed tower guard closed the door after them.

In a gesture of conciliation, Palus announced, “Sit down. I’ll get a wine bottle and glasses.”

Swarta restrained her expression but I sensed her displeasure, as we found a couch.

“I’ve never seen that woman before, so it was rather disconcerting to see her orgasm just because she walked so close to me.”

Swarta held her peace until Palus returned and sat across from us in a plain wood chair. “You told me the story this morning. Now tell our husband.”

Palus poured three wine goblets and we each picked up our glass. She made every effort to act meek and demure. “As you know the lower town healers call me when they have a difficult case. Two weeks ago, we quarantined a house used for newly arrived single women. The occupants, three women and two babies, had high fevers and weren’t able to keep their food down. Among other things, we administered poultices to the two widows and Usha. The mothers weren’t able to feed their babies, so I fed them.”

I lifted an eye, leaping to a conclusion. Swarta sighed, which seemed to confirm that I was right. Palus was busy staring off into the distance, picturing her tale.

“The women had high fevers and took little water. The babies quickly turned a corner and their fevers broke after a few feedings. I left the healers in charge and slept a fitful night. The next day, I was happy to see the fevers had broken for the mothers. Usha wasn’t any better and was weakening. None of my tricks were working with her. I went to Merritt and explained the frustrating case. Although sympathetic, Merritt didn’t want to get involved other than giving advice. Merritt is knowledgeable with medicine but said, ‘I am holding to my rule of no involvement with people outside our family.’”

“Our wizardry has limits and she is a medical tech, not a doctor,” I answered. “She works with ... enchanted equipment.”

“I am not casting fault, only sharing my frustration about my patient,” Palus defended, taking an unladylike swig of her wine. “In walking back to Usha’s bed, I determined that it was obvious I had not tried everything. So, as Merritt had suggested, I hydrated my patient. It had worked for the babies and it worked for Usha too; after a few breast feedings, the fever broke. With a week of further feeding she regained most of her strength.”

“That long?” I questioned.

“She was close to the grave when I started providing her with my milk.”

“You’re still feeding her?” I continued.

“I’ve been trying to ween her. But there were complications.”

Swarta raised her brows, obviously knowing the story and wanting Palus to get on with it.

“Usha can’t be reasoned with when she is denied for more than two days. She showed a high level of anxiety that makes her vomit,” Palus explained.

“She is a woman of extremes. The spasms of her release were quite remarkable,” Swarta responded.

“More like convulsions,” I joked, on the heels of Swarta’s comments.

In the middle of a swallow, Palus choked a little on her wine and chided, “Don’t do that!”

Swarta shrugged and I laughed. The tension between us broke and smiles followed.

“Am I the only one that didn’t know about this problem?” I asked.

“Only the healing trainee and the council of women know. We have declared it a clan secret. Too much harm can come from this discovery,” Swarta declared.

“I can see people trying to heal ill family members by kidnapping our women,” I reasoned. “The trouble is the nanomites are in the milk,” I thought.

“I could see your lovers addicting young women to capture them for your bed,” Swarta added.

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. One or two samples did not do anything, but seven days hooked Usha.”

“Von, Von, women are as determined as men and they are devious. Your lovers like the idea of more Solon babies. They like the idea of expanding your territory--very much--and we know about all the benefits. You only have to look at Hannah and Key to find true believers for Moon Mother’s body magic,” Swarta warned. “You gave sight to the blind.”

“Merritt calls it a sweet compulsion,” Palus added, “Worse than a chocolate craving.”

I waved my hands about. “We all know about that. We don’t have to rehash it. What I want to know is what cautions you throw up at your meeting?”

“Milk stays within the family,” Swarta announced.

“I can’t say I wouldn’t heal another, such as Usha, if the person was gravely ill,” Palus reasoned tightly.

“A man?” I asked.

“Of course not, Von. These aren’t for other men.” Palus grabbed her breasts and lifted them up to me.

“Good enough for me,” I answered.

“It’s settled. Usha gets her milk until Von solves the problem,” Swarta said while looking at our wife.

“Cheer up Von. She wasn’t married,” Palus said as she stood. “Now, I think I will go see my children.”

“That is a good idea; we will all go,” I added. The nursery was a place a touch of tenderness that was a source of pride to me.

It was noon by the time we left the nursery, and I waited a little longer than that for the handmaidens to clear the older children’s play area. I took those few minutes to step into the hall and send a text on my PDA. It didn’t take long, and no one paid me any attention since it was something I did all the time--a note here, a message there. Tharin’s wife was the first woman out of the room, laughing at something Swarta said.

Aberdeen had joined us to play with my children. In the time we spent there I lost my reservations about her needing a child. The intensity of her love for babies flowed from her being. It made sense to keep my promise to Tharin. In fact, observing Aberdeen for a couple of hours chastised me for my delay in helping the couple. Yes, impregnating her would be awkward; nevertheless, they had done everything but beg me to become their body-father.

To be honest, I was attracted to the distinctive look of the ebony woman’s high cheekbones and narrow face and her unusually narrow lips. She hadn’t been especially attentive to me, before or after her marriage to Tharin. However, she glowed with happiness at Tharin’s affections. As a matter of fact, Tharin’s co-wife, Luna, was much the same; she loved Tharin. I still remember with affection my first meeting with Luna, when she told me, “Lady Aberdeen has been like a mother to me since I lost my family in Convey to the Raiders. I was sent by Lady Derwen, your wife, to find Lady Aberdeen. They are friends, you know, from her time trading with the old Galit.” Perhaps fifteen years old, she was innocent and untouched by any man.

Both of Tharin’s ladies were a big departure from his normal choice of female flesh. An older, confident woman and a young, innocent looking bride couldn’t be more different.

In an attempt to avoid any potential conversation about the matter with a bevy of women, I asked Aberdeen, “Take a walk with me?”

Someone let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, and the hallway filled with smiles.

“Of course, Lord Solon,” Aberdeen faltered, clearly surprised. By offering Tharin’s wife my arm, she regained her normal composure. Taking up the opportunity with grace, she took my arm and we walked out of the tower. I didn’t have to look to hear all my wives at the window of the tower talking in whispers. They often forgot my keen hearing. For her part, Aberdeen walked with her head held high, centering her eyes forward as I guided her to the path that followed the stream. She pressed close to me rather possessively, pleased to show off my attentions. From the looks of various people we passed, Aberdeen’s affections weren’t a surprise. It seemed everyone in the upper town knew of my promise to the couple. If anything there was approval in the women’s eyes and indifference radiating off the men’s posture. No looks of disapproval were cast on either of us.

I fished out some nuts from a survival packet in my pocket. “Want a snack?”

“No, thank you,” Aberdeen answered. “Merritt shared them with me once. I got one stuck in my teeth, besides not liking the odd taste.”

“That’s fine, more for me. Prepackaged food is an acquired taste.” I commented and threw her a cheeky smile. She returned a warm smile, which broke my uncomfortable feelings about having a married woman on my arm.

We relaxed more as we walked down the hill, falling into a rhythm of small talk. It was one of the busiest flagstone paths in the town. Children were constantly dodging around us as they ran up or down the hill. Any adult would step aside and defer to us as we passed them. The women respectfully nodded their heads while the men would place a fist over their hearts. They were all upper-town residents, so they knew I didn’t want them to fuss over me too much.

 
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