Chapter 11

Tim Cooper’s trial was on Tuesday. For the crime of rape, he was sentenced to fifteen lashes. For the crime of malbreeding - impregnating a member of the same community - he was sentenced to castration. The castration was carried out immediately. The lashes were carried out three days later - to give the convicted time to heal, and to give Nancy’s prime uncle time to practice with a whip.

When the lashes were administered, one of the strokes missed his back, wrapping around his face and nearly hitting his eye. The sheriff cautioned Nancy’s prime uncle that further “mistakes” would not be tolerated.

Under law, Tim was free to continue his life in Appa. The unsympathetic glares toward the crying, bleeding, broken non-man, though, made it clear that he would be wise to move on. He recuperated under Doc Porter’s care for two days. Then he was given three days’ rations, a knife, compass, and map, and escorted to the edge of town.

John continued showing up at the town square in the evenings when foreign circuit girls were expected. Time after time, he still wasn’t picked, but he had a more relaxed attitude about it now. It would happen, and he’d be ready.

He frequently thought about Izzy, and about having sex with her butt. He couldn’t imagine where she had learned such a thing. Circuits are about pregnancy, after all; it was hard to imagine guys in other towns indulging, much less remaining silent about such a perversion. It was hard to imagine she could keep a secret like that from her chaperones, as well. But then the alternative was that she had learned it from someone local. Had Izzy fooled around with another guy like she had with him, and sworn him to secrecy too? Who? What if there were more than one?

He wished he could talk to Eddy about it, but he had made a promise.

The memory of the experience, along with masturbation, was enough to keep him sane for now.

One evening a strange vehicle appeared: a long enclosed truck with rows and rows of benches for passengers. Seven girls emerged, wearing the most colorful dresses he’d ever seen. Three chaperones followed them.

He watched the pretty young women for several minutes while three Future Generations Council members interviewed them and chose men for them to meet. He didn’t even recognize Katrina until, scanning the crowd, her eyes found his. She looked completely different in a dress, with a flower in her hair instead of a ponytail.

She seemed to jump the queue ahead of her companions, speaking to Miss Melanie with animated hands and then pointing to John. Miss Melanie waved him over.

“John, you remember Katrina?” Miss Melanie said.

“Yes ma’am,” he answered eagerly.

“Why don’t you two talk for a while,” she said, and then turned her attention to another Venture girl.

“Hey,” she said with uneasy familiarity. “I saw you - back home when your sheriff came to take that guy away. You looked good - really, ah, responsible, I guess.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry I couldn’t say hello,” he told her.

“No, I get it,” she rushed to say. “What happened, anyway? With the trial?”

“He was castrated and whipped,” John told her.

“Whipped?” Katrina said with shock.

“Yeah. For rape.”

“Oh, I didn’t know about that part,” she told him.

She paused a moment, summoning her courage. “Look, John, I didn’t know what I was doing before, and I don’t think I was very fair to you. I think I was probably kind of mean. I’m sorry. I have a little more experience now, and if you’d be okay with it, I’d like to give it another try.”

“That would be great!” John said.

Katrina checked in with her chaperones - told them not to worry about her - and then she and John began walking to his house.

It was with no small amount of pride that he introduced her to his family. “This is Katrina. She’s on circuit from Venture.”

The family eagerly made room for her at dinner, and wouldn’t stop asking about her home town, and her job. Evan seemed smitten with her, and Kiki acted like she had found a new hero.

After dinner, John’s mother began issuing orders. “Help me move some of the beds out of the small bedroom,” she instructed Tessie. “These two will want some privacy tonight.”

“Mom, no, I’ll do it,” John told her. “Go relax.”

John began preparing to juggle the furniture; it was something of a puzzle due to limited open floor space. When Katrina saw the sleeping arrangements - two bedrooms for five adults and six children - she protested: “I don’t want to put anyone out. Please. We can do it anywhere. It’s a nice night out - we could sleep outside if you want.”

John couldn’t believe his luck. After grabbing some blankets and supplies, John took Katrina to his favorite spot by the stream.

While John spread out a large blanket, Katrina removed her dress, folded it neatly, and set it safely aside. It was too fine a thing for rolling around in the grass, she explained. She was still plenty covered by a full-length slip. John found himself staring, and then looked away.

“It’s okay,” she smiled. “You can look at me.” He did, soaking in her beauty. She looked innocent, but confident.

When she sat down on the blanket, John moved behind her, pressing his strong hands into her travel-worn shoulders. “Oh, that’s nice!” She said, relaxing into him.

John worked to pull the tension out of her muscles, and she sighed with relief over and over. Each of her breaths seemed to be heavier and slower than the last. His hands working on her neck and shoulders, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off the rise and fall of her chest.

She snuggled her back against his body more, and moaned comfortably. She moved the straps of her slip off her shoulders. John took that as an invitation, and so he peeled down the top of her garment, revealing her small round breasts. It fascinated John that they were only a little bigger than Izzy’s, but very different in shape: domes instead of cones. He put his hands to them, and she let out a happy murmur. The stars were out, and Katrina looked up at them, content while he massaged her tits.