Chapter 3

Bill woke to the somewhat familiar sensation, his morning erection snugly enclosed in a warm, slippery pussy; Etty was riding him. Candy was still fast asleep, at an angle across the bed, with her head resting on his chest. His arm was loosely wrapped round her shoulders, his hand resting on her hip. He opened his eyes and looked up at Etty and smiled.

“I love you, Skipper. You know that, don’t you?” she whispered.

“And I hope you know I love you right back, Mister Mate.” Bill murmured, knowing that a whisper is more penetrating because of the sibilants.

“I do. And soon it’ll be recognised by the State and the Church. Who’d have thought that the Church would recognise plural marriage?”

Bill might have responded to that, but he didn’t really want to enter into a discussion about a state church and the law. Besides, his completion was rapidly approaching. He was about to announce the fact, but he could feel the evidence of Etty’s own climax in the spasmodic movements of her pussy muscles. In the aftermath, she leant down and kissed Candy’s cheek. As she did so, Bill’s dick fell out of her with a soft plop.

“Wakey wakey, TH. Rise and shine.”

Candy wriggled and stretched. Hummed in her throat. Wriggled some more, stretched to kiss Bill, then reached up to pull Etty down for a kiss.

“We’re getting married,” she sighed. “We really are, aren’t we? It wasn’t just a dream?”

“We really are, darling girl,” Bill smiled. “I’ll soon be that odd barge skipper with the two beautiful wives as crew.”

That got him a peppering of little kisses on each side of his face from both girls. They lay each side of him, doing their best to maximise the skin to skin contact.

“Etty,” Candy spoke quietly, “you keep saying I’ll be First Wife...”

“And you will. I’m happy with that. I never thought I’d be as happy as I am right now.”

“Does that mean I get to say, you know...”

“I think you’ll be fair, Sweetie. And you get the final say about any addition to the crew,” Bill interrupted to reassure her. “Right now, I think a shower – all together – followed by breakfast. We need to go to the Horseshoe this morning.”

Candy was still in the glow of the previous night, and Etty and Bill were both satisfied, so the mutual shower was enjoyable and sensual, rather than sexual. Breakfast proceeded much as the previous day, and Sharon was waiting outside with the Rolls when they’d finished.

Instead of the Hemmings residence, though, she took them to the Horseshoe, of course. The girls were in matching, soft, blue denim A-line dresses which reached just above their knees. They had, however, made sure Bill was aware that there was nothing under the dresses except girl. They were not wearing collars. Sharon opened the door of the limousine for them and waited until they’d entered the building before leaving.

Inside, they were greeted by Dusty Miller. “Good morning! Ben ... er ... Etty, good to see you again. Candy, a sight for sore eyes,” Candy coloured and dipped her head demurely, “Captain Sanders. Bill. All of you, welcome to the Training Centre. The Chaplain is on his way, ladies. He’ll take you to the chapel and talk to you about how you want the service to go. Bill, Major Prestwick is coming, but he’ll be a minute or so.”

“Thanks,” Bill said for all of them, and turned to his girls. “Candy, Etty, are you okay to go with the Chaplain? Do you need me to come with you?”

Candy and Etty looked at each other. “I’m ... a bit scared,” Candy confessed.

“The Chaplain’s okay,” Etty assured her. “I’ve talked to him before, you know.”

Candy looked at Bill. Her bottom lip, which had been wobbling a little, firmed. “I’ll be okay with the Mate,” she said positively.

The Chaplain, when he arrived, was almost a caricature. Medium height, but very thin, with wispy silvery hair and beard.

“Hello, Bernadette. Good to see you again, and looking very well.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m going by ‘Etty’ now. This is my friend Candy Stillson, soon to be First Wife when we marry the Skipper.”

“Ah. Yes.” He turned to Bill, holding out a hand. “Captain Sanders.”

Bill took it with a smile. “Bill, or Skipper,” he said.

“Then I’m Charlie,” the older man smiled. “You know, it still taking a little getting used to, marrying two women to one man. But I don’t really have a problem with it. I do think you’re taking on quite a responsibility. So ... this young lady,” he smiled at Candy, “is going to be the senior wife?”

“So they tell me,” Bill laughed. “Candy came first, so I suppose it makes sense, even if she’s younger.”

“Very well. I’ll just take them to the chapel for a chat. I understand you’re to interview possible further crew?”

“That’s right. I’m not so sure, myself.”

“Understandable. Ladies?”

He ushered the girls out of the reception, guiding them past the Centre entrance to the chapel. “Here we are. Er, Etty, you’ve been here before, of course. Seating for about sixty. There’s closed circuit t/v so that services can be piped to the Centre, or to apartments within the complex.” He waved at some seats, and when they sat, straddled a chair so he was facing them. “Okay; suppose you tell me what you want?”

Candy looked at Etty, who smiled. “Go on, you need to get used to being the boss!”

“Well, considering you’ve been the Mate, and I’ve been Third Hand, that’s a bit of a stretch. Still...” she frowned for a moment. “One thing we’re agreed on is including a ceremony in which M ... Bill ... takes our collars, symbolically freeing us. We will be naked and barefoot, apart from our collars, though once our collars are off, flowers might be involved. We want the vows to be three-way. M ... oh, bother. He’s still Master to me.”

“Traditionally, according to the Christian scriptures, the husband is the Head of the wife, so I suppose we can include something of that in the vows. How do you feel about that, um, Etty?”

“Remember, Bill is the Captain, the Skipper or Master of the vessel, so both of us have always seen him as being in charge, in authority. I think it’s especially meaningful for Candy, here. Bill will always be Master, to her, I think. But it’s real to me, too.”

“Very well. Now, this is what I suggest,” he said, opening a notebook and his prayer book.

“Captain Sanders. Skipper! So good to see you again!”

“Likewise, Major. Though the Horseshoe isn’t on the short list of my favourite places to visit.”

“I can understand that. Why don’t you come with me?” He ushered Bill out of the reception door and walked with him to the Centre. “I’m very happy things worked out with Bennie. Sorry, Etty. I hope we can work something similar with one of our other residents.”

“Maybe. I’m still not entirely happy with what I know of the candidates.”

“Yeah. I get that. I do think the best prospect is Vera Crowe. Seriously, she’s ... I think the nearest description is ‘blossomed’ during her stay here. She works hard, has trimmed down, and is an enthusiastic and imaginative partner in sex. It’s no excuse for what she did, but honestly, her family did themselves no favours in the way they treated her.”

“What about the other one? Linda?”

“She’s changed for the better, too. But,” he hesitated, “honestly? She needs a strong man. A household where she can fulfil a useful function ... and she need kids. It’s vitally important to society that we rebuild the population and try to correct the gender balance. Thus far, the offspring since the Wars have been weighted towards male. Not heavily, but about fifty-five percent.”

“I see.”

The Major palmed the door and led Bill inside. Several of the women were mounted on Sybians, and one was bent over a frame being fucked by a trainer. Bill tried to ignore all that while following his escort to one of the cells, where he was left.

Inside was an older woman with faded, rusty auburn hair sitting at a counter looking at a small laptop computer. When he entered, she stood – revealing an excellent figure for her age – and smoothly knelt in front of him.

“IS29/15R. Vera Crowe,” Bill said, quietly.

“Yes, sir,” she responded. Her voice was a warm alto, and despite himself, Bill found himself hardening, just from her voice. Not that her figure didn’t have an effect.

“Stand for me,” he ordered, and when she obeyed, “Turn. Slowly.”

She stood straight, her shoulders back, and began to rotate in front of him. Athletic was not quite the description, but she was definitely toned. She’d completed one and a half turns when he commented;

“You have an excellent figure.”

She paused. “Thank you, sir. I’m glad you think so.”

“I didn’t say stop, Vera. Fifteen. Keep turning.” Her breasts were quite remarkable, her bum a work of art, and her legs smooth and muscled. Her crotch drew the eye, hairless, prominent, pink and moist between her legs. “Yes. Very attractive. Thirty-six C?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hips?”

“Thirty-seven, sir.”

“You’ve been working out a lot. What can you lift?”

“Eighty kilos, sir.” She hesitated, but went on, “I can do twenty reps at that. We don’t go for the maximum straight lift.”

“I see. I’ve been told why you’re here, but I’d like you to give me your, um, perspective. Oh, and look at me while you talk.”

“Yes, sir. I tried to kill my family by burning the house down with them in it.” She stopped there, but Bill just raised an eyebrow and waited. “They treated me like furniture,” she went on, “old, outdated, worn out furniture. Dan, well, he bought himself nineteen-year-old twins, so he had no time for me. To be fair, I was very overweight.” As Bill watched her steadily, she felt that he was looking into her soul. It seemed like an age to her as he just looked, and she suddenly crumpled in front of him.

He caught her before she hit the floor. If he’d been just a little less fit and strong, he’d never have managed to hold her; she was very solid, bone and muscle. He got to the only chair in the cell, and pulled her into his lap. To his amazement, she broke down in tears.

A trainer glanced into the cell and caught Bill’s eye. He smiled at him and raised a thumb, just enough to be visible. The man nodded and left.