Leda didn't know how long she'd be alone. As soon has she heard her front door close, she began to cry.
Why shouldn't she cry? She was frightened. She was confused. She wanted him but she didn't want him to have her. She had escaped this fate once, why should she have to do it again? Wasn't it enough that she had been mated to Gerald? Why were there always another man who wanted to own her?
But she had enjoyed Brandon's touch; that was undeniable. She had enjoyed his promises. She wanted more of him. She wanted to see his chest and the muscles of his back. She wanted to feel his naked body pressed up against her. She wanted to feel what it was to beg. But she couldn't accept his desire to have children on her. Maybe she would have been better off as a whore. But then... then she would have bred anyway.
When she was given to Gerald she was just a girl. Everything was normal and right about it then. She'd grown up at Cliffhouse, and was one of the more spoiled girls there. She was her mother's only daughter. She had brothers, but her mother never let her meet them, it would only hurt her to fall in love with a baby brother who was going to be sent away. So while her mother occasionally went away to the small cottage that served as a nursery, Leda stayed in the big house, playing with the other girls, learning how to cook and look after herself, as well as dance and sing pleasantly. But unlike the other girls, her mother had taught her to read. At first it was a boon, to be able to lose herself in the few books that were traded to the women's colony. She was the only girl there who knew about anything, and she liked to brag about science and nature and history, and of course, men. Girls at Cliffhouse aren't supposed to see men until they come of age, it gives them too many expectations. It made her mother furious when she bragged. She put herself in danger teaching her how to read, Leda was supposed to keep it a secret. But even as a child, Leda always thought she knew best.
Of course she didn't. She might have known more about the world that once was, but in all the ways that mattered, she was an idiot. She was what they wanted her to be: a stupid, sheltered little girl. Especially when it came to men.
Leda had read enough about men to have all sorts of expectations - what a man should know, how he should talk to women. Men in books were just like the women she knew at Cliffhouse, in many ways. They cared about their families, they dreamed of great accomplishments, they devoted themselves to their crafts - but they were also free to travel the world. Free to work where they choose. Free to create something more than children. What Leda liked best about men and women in books is how often they talked to each other. They worked together, lived together, fucked each other for pleasure - but that was all in the past. When Leda asked her mother why men and women couldn't exist like that together anymore, she'd told her about often men in the past would rape women. Fathers raped daughters, friends would rape their friends's wives, strangers would attack women on the street. It's better now, she told Leda. Now you have two men in your life. The one who made you, and the one who'll breed you. Two names that will be inked onto your body. Your father's name on your foot, your mate's name on your breast. Leda didn't meet her father until she was 16.
Cliffhouse was safe from the ousted world because it was surrounded. The South side of the commune ended with the drop of a cliff. A cliff that fell into the ocean and could not be climbed even by the strongest man, and while women had jumped to freedom before, everyone had died as soon as they hit the water. The commune itself was rather lovely in it's way. With sheep grazing along the lawn and fields of flowers and vegetables. But it all ended at the wall. The wall was taller than the main house, and on top of it, women who have outlived their childbearing years patrolled with guns and crossbows. They had been trained to shoot at any man who came near their women's colony, not that it mattered much. The men rarely broke boundaries when it came to women. There were too many men with property at Cliffhouse, and so they policed themselves for the most part. But Leda liked to visit the wall to see her many older "aunts", who formed a darker, brasher sisterhood as soon as their menses ended and they were handed a weapon. But mainly, she liked to stair beyond the wall. Beyond that wall was a beautiful meadow, which in spring bore blossoms of pink and blue and lavender.
It was a tradition in the Outer lands that when girls had been consistently menstruating for a full year, they leave Cliffhouse for the first time. They are dressed in their finest fabrics. Their hair is washed and decorated with flowers. Some mothers let their daughters rub crushed berries on their lips. Then they are put in a wagon and rolled out to the meadow, where they meet their father - many of them for the first time - who take them off the wagon, and allow them to be looked at by mateless men. Then, as the girls dance to fiddle music and drink wine and eat a picnic, the fathers take bids.
It's hard to know the right price for a mate, but since a father is solely responsible for the breeding and strength of his children, they make excellent salesmen. Many believe that a man with too many daughters is effeminate and weak. His cock can only breed cunts, what kind of a man is that?
A rich man, usually. Leda was sold to Gerald for 300 coins.
Leda had tried to forget that day. After the dance, her father had taken her by the elbow and brought her to Gerald. She remembers being happy. He wore a soldiers' uniform, but unlike most men who wear whichever shirts and breaches were assigned them, his uniform fit him well. He wasn't much older than she was, but he was taller than most men. He didn't smile much, but he had blond hair that fell over his forehead carelessly and underneath it, piercing blue eyes. She had thought of all the stories she read as a girl and was comforted to think that Gerald looked like the heroes.
He took her hand in his and, like a dancer, spun her around on the spot. He wanted to see her body, see if she had any flaws. At the time, Leda had laughed a bit, and he laughed too, nervously. When he seen every part of her, he drew her closer to him and touched her hair, running the golden strands between his fingers. Leda trembled as he ran his hands softly up and down her body, feeling every curve of her as her father turned away and allowed the inspection to go on. Leda was still shaking when reached under her skirt and, gently, put his finger inside her. Of course, she knew he would want to examine her virginity, but she couldn't help grimacing at the intrusion. She bit her tongue and waited for him to remove his hand and hand her father the coin. Then they made their way to where the other couples had queued to have their mates marked.
He didn't speak to her as they waited, but occasionally, she's look up at his face to see if he was looking at her. He was, but he was focused on her body, trying to burn away her dress with his eyes. Occasionally, when he thought no one was looking, he put his hands on her breasts, her ass. Leda pretended not to notice his hands on her.
When it was her turn to be marked, Gerald did what all men did. He held her down while the inky needle moved in and out of her chest. That was when she ought have known something was wrong. As she cried out and writhed in pain against him, she could feel his heart quicken and his cock harden. A pretty girl was nothing to him. A girl in pain was everything.
When the mark had cooled, he took her hand impatiently. Like most young soldiers, he didn't have his own cottage. So he just took Leda far enough into the woods so they wouldn't be seen
He was still hard from feeling her writhe against him, and he was frustrated with waiting to enjoy his new property. As soon as he found a spot he deemed worthwhile he stopped, and pulled her too him roughly.
Leda tumbled into his chest. The spot where she would go from maiden to mate was a large willow tree next to a stream. Pretty enough, but it didn't matter to her anymore. As soon as they stopped, Gerald pushed Leda up against the trunk of the tree and fumbled with his belt.
