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The solar shield panel retracted with a barely perceptible whir, and the sun rays, focused and diffused by the convex mirrors discretely hidden in the corners of the ceiling, directed soft warming beams onto the sleeping unit. Jenna X23 stirred and stretched, enjoying the way her back popped and how her muscles pulled. She blinked up at the muted sunshine and smiled. Only three more wake-ups and she would begin her vacation!

She rolled out of the solar-airbed and ambled into the oxi-shower/bath stall. She pushed the blue button and the refreshing oxi/water mist traveled from her head to her toes. The earlier models hadn't had the mist feature, but the marketing engineers found that oldsters, seventy to ninety year olds, were resistant to pure oxygen bathing. Since that group controlled sixty percent of the market share. . .adjustments had to be made. Jenna was grateful. She appreciated the efficiency of a pure oxi-shower, but the mist was invigorating.

The gold button directed ion molecules at her hair, simultaneously cleaning and styling it for the suntime. By default it selected the "Business" option, which was neatly styled and conservatively colored. She couldn't wait until next week when she could just go au natural. Next, the pink button for the emulsified emolument moisturizer. And last, she depressed the green button and her exclusive fermion scent spray blanketed her.

Stepping out of the stall, the "beamer" clicked on, focusing the low dosage full-spectrum light all over her body. The "beamer" was responsible for giving her a soft golden tan as well as her daily dose of vitamins, minerals, antioxidants, antitoxic, anti-irradiation, and gene-boost therapy. The whole process took twenty seconds.

Jenna reached for her Remo-bracelet and snapped the titanium circlet around her wrist. All of the semi-precious stones were activation buttons. It had been the traditional gift from the University when you graduated. Your Remo-bracelet symbolized your adult status, and Jenna never got over the thrill of snapping it on every morning.

She pushed the ruby and the holograph closet opened. "How may I serve you?" The well modulated voice asked.

"I think I need some slacks this suntime...but make them a little loose around the waist. Too much celebrating last moontime."

"Understood. Color preference?"

"Um...blue I think."

"Select option." The hologram flashed five different choices of blue slack suits and slack and blouse combinations. Each of the blues was a slightly different hue.

"I think option C with the A color choice. I'm feeling very retro this suntime."

"Understood. Processing. Transaction complete."

Jenna went to the apparel hook and retrieved a pale blue slack suit with a short cropped jacket paired with a light mauve ruffled blouse. Very "old world"; very "gender specific"...so much so, Jenna was a little worried that she would be perceived as being just this side of costume dressing. She hoped her supervisor, Liz, didn't make an issue of it. She had a low tolerance for Jenna's fascination with earlier historical periods. Liz kept reminding Jenna that the "good ole suntimes" that Jenna found so appealing had some definite drawbacks.

"You do realize that there was all sorts of gender bias back then?" Liz asked.

"Yes, and there's a definite issue of relational-dysfunction in this era, Liz. Every time period has good and bad things about it. At least in past times they had significant issues to deal with."

"Yeah...life...death...la..la! I'm so tired of hearing that! War and famine and exploration...yech!"

No! No! Jenna thought. There is no way I'm telling Liz about Times Past Park at Colony Bay! She'd laugh herself silly if she knew that's where I've booked my vacation.

Jenna depressed the topaz on her Remo and the solar/air bed disappeared into the wall where it would be prepared with fresh linens for the coming moontime. Her time-minder chimed in the background and startled her into action. No time for sustenance here. She'd catch something at work from the grobo-cart. She opened a canister that was resting on the shelf above her proviso-unit that allowed her to create sustenance here if she chose. She took two caffie-tabs and popped them in her mouth. She bit down and smiled as they dissolved on her tongue and gave her a bracing jolt of caffeine.

By the time she'd reached her auto-pod, set her coordinates, and settled back for the twenty minute computer-controlled commute, she felt frazzled. She leaned into the custom-contour seat and closed her eyes. In a few more suntimes, she'd be flying out to Colony Bay for a three week vacation in a re-creation of a bygone era. She could hardly wait!

Three suntimes later, Jenna was rocketing through space on her way to the adventure of a lifetime. Colony Bay was a vacation resort which catered to the historical fantasies of a relatively exclusive clientele. History as an esoteric area of investigation was seen by the general public as a fairly arcane hobby practiced by a small number of people. Jenna never cared that others who knew of her interest, smiled indulgently behind her back. She had always been obsessed with history.

On the questionnaire which she had filled out as part of the application process, she had chosen the time period of the early twentieth century; a time called the Late Victorian Period. Jenna knew almost nothing about the time period, which was why it was such adventure! That was half the fun of this kind of trip...she loved the feeling of "going with the flow" to coin an old phrase.

When the passengers boarded the transport-pod, they were sorted by the eras they wanted to visit and shuffled into attached pods which would drop off separately as their particular destination was reached.

"I'm so excited!" she exclaimed to the young man sitting directly across from her in the circular pod. "I've never been here. Have you?"

"No," the young man's face split into a smile. "But I've saved for three year cycles for this vacation."

"Where are you from?"

"Ryerson 12. And you?"

"The same. I don't think we've met before have we?"

"No. I don't think so."

The conversation stopped at this point and Jenna was not surprised. Cross-gender social intercourse was always difficult in her world. She thought it had something to do with all of the "rules of engagement" which had to be followed to make sure that you were always Philosophically Correct when dealing with the opposite gender. It was just easier not to deal with them at all! she thought with disgust. It was one of the things that attracted her to historical recreations. She was hoping to find a better system of gender interaction. She had a niggling suspicion that in trying to make the world a more "reasonable" place they'd lost something in the translation.

Lost in her reverie, she was surprised sometime later to realize they'd arrived. She knew the auto-disengagement process had begun. She heard a whoosh of air as their small pod separated from the main vessel, then she felt the swoop as their pod descended toward their landing area. The safety braces automatically retracted as soon as they floated to solid ground. She smiled vaguely at the other four passengers and made her way to the disembarking hatch.

She had no luggage. One of the reasons that these types of vacations were so expensive was that everything was provided for you. In fact, you were not allowed to bring anything from your world to Colony Bay except the clothes on your back, and you were soon divested of them, if the rule book she had been sent was telling the truth.

At the disembarking ramp, they were sorted by gender; the men to the right and the women to the left. Highly Philosophically Incorrect! Jenna loved it!

"If you ladies will follow me, I will make sure that you are attired correctly." The young lady who was their guide was dressed rather interestingly. She had a dress which covered her from the neck to her toes. There seemed to be some attempt at adornment in a small brooch pin at her throat, but otherwise the costume seemed rather dull to Jenna, but she was here to learn. The guide led the other two ladies to a large dressing area which seemed to be staffed by at least ten other women.

"Here we are then," the guide said. "If you will please strip down and hand one of the attendants your belongings, they will be tagged and cleaned, then returned to you when you leave."

Jenna and the women began to strip. There was no false modesty here. One good thing PC had done was affirm the inherent beauty in diversity. As soon as the ladies were naked two attendants arrived with a small cart full of costuming.

"The first article of clothing you will need to put on is a chemise," the attendant held up a scrap of white, almost transparent cloth. "It is slipped over your head thusly." She demonstrated the technique of putting it over the head and letting the hem fall to just below the hip line.

"Next you will be fitted for a corset," she opened the front of her top to show the ladies a garment that fitted tightly beneath the breast, cinching in the waist, and resting the bottom border on the edge of the hips.

"That doesn't look very comfortable," one of the ladies in the group remarked.

"It does take some getting used to at first, but you'll accommodate," the attendant answered. Her tone said clearly that there was no choice. You wore what they gave you or you went back home without a refund. It had all been spelled out in the brochure.

Just as the three ladies were costumed and ready, gathering at the pick-up point, one of the attendants came up to Jenna, slipped her arm around her and guided her a little away from the other two. At first Jenna was alarmed. She was afraid she might be sent home packing, but she couldn't think of anything that she had done that would've cause that.

"Don't be concerned," the attendant Christy said. "I wanted to offer you a proposition."

"A proposition?"

"Yes. We screen all the new visitors when they come in, and if they show some degree of aptitude or openness for the lifestyle, we ask them to consider entering our colony program."

"Your what?"

"We have a program, universe wide, which is dedicated to colonizing smaller uninhabited planets in this and several other solar systems. We only ask people who come to these history resorts, because we have found that often earlier social systems from history tend to lend themselves better to colonization than others. It would require a total lifestyle change, not to mention relocation."

"I. . ." Jenna tried to reply, but was interrupted.

"Please don't try to answer right now. You will be contacted several different times during your stay here to give you more information and to answer any questions as they arise. I would like you to wear this pin whenever you go out. It will identify you as a 'possible' to the others." Christy pinned a small star-shaped broach in Jenna's lapel. "In the meantime, enjoy your vacation. Oh, one more thing to keep in mind. If you decide you want to be part of the program, you will need to have a husband from the pool of trainees, who has at least four year cycles of training. Single women are not allowed to colonize. Ah! Here's your shuttle. Have fun!" Christy flashed her a brilliant smile and walked away.

"But..." Well now that was interesting! Jenna shook her head in confusion and walked toward the shuttle to join the other two ladies. The three of them entered and the sonic door closed with a whoosh.

"I swear, I'm going to kill Jim for this! I wouldn't even be here except he thought it would be fun!" Marcy pulled at her shirtfront. "He didn't tell me I'd have to wear this cage all the time!"

"He probably didn't know, Marcy," Heather pointed out. "You need to be like Jenna here. I swear, you look like you were born in this time period. I don't know how you do it."

"I don't either," Jenna shared truthfully. "Although I don't think I'll ever be totally comfortable, the corset does make me feel very feminine and oh. . .I don't know. . . sexy. Isn't that silly?"

"Just one more way men of past times tried to keep women oppressed!" Marcy asserted. "Good lord! You can't breathe in this thing!"

"That's true enough," Heather said. "They almost sent me home because I keep passing out. I didn't realize that women had to be so hardy back then."

When the shuttle finally stopped, each of the ladies was met by another representative of the resort.

"Right this way, Ms. Jenna. I'll get you settled into your room at Glen Court. Don't worry about your trunk, ma'am. It will be delivered to your rooms and I'll make sure your gowns are unpacked and pressed. My name is Brandy and I'll be your maid while you are with us." Brandy continued to lead the way to a red-bricked building sprawled on a corner lot. The large lobby windows were overhung with bright green and white awnings.

"What a wonderful old building!" Jenna said.

"Just a repro, but they did a nice job."

"Repro?"

"You know, reproduction."

"Oh."

"Don't let this place confuse you. It's all just here for diversion. I'm your liaison person. My job is to help you make the transition from your century to this. If anything confuses you...ask me. That's what I'm here for."

By now, Jenna and Brandy had entered the cool lobby area which was decorated with overstuffed chairs and potted palms. Brandy led her to an ornate brass cage-like elevator. Jenna looked at the uniformed young man sitting just inside the door.

"Go ahead in," Brandy said. "It's just a crude form of popu-mover."

Jenna looked skeptical, but she got in. She was a little frightened when the motion was a bit jerky, but they made it to the fifth floor in a relatively short time. Brandy had her freshened up and back out the door in fifteen minutes.

"It's time for High Tea in the dinning room. You really should go down and start getting a taste of this place."

"Is there any other schedule I have to keep here?" Jenna asked.

"No. You're on vacation my dear. You're supposed to have fun!"

"Have fun..." Jenna echoed dubiously as she headed for the brass cage once more.

Soon she was seated in the dining room under a drooping philodendron, sipping a rather potent Pekoe tea , and eyeing the other occupants in the room. Everyone was dressed in period costumes. Jenna was surprised that most looked very at ease in their surroundings.

"Some of them are repeat visitors," a deep rolling voice startled Jenna from her reverie, and she jumped.

"I beg your pardon, miss. I didn't mean to startle you. My names Jack...and your name is...?"

"Uh, Jenna X2...."

"No last names here Jenna," The man interrupted her.

"Oh sorry," she mumbled. This devastatingly handsome person was making her nervous. He was also making her feel stupid.

"It's okay. I wouldn't have known either except that I'm a fourth year trainee. May I sit down?"

"Uhm, yes"

"A gracious invitation if I ever heard one." Jack grinned a white toothy smile at her and sat. "I noticed your lapel pin. Have you decided to colonize?"

This man was exceptionally pushy, Jenna thought. Didn't he know it wasn't PC to ask personal questions like that? "Not that it is anyone's business but my own, but no. I haven't decided anything yet."

"You will find that the social models are a bit different than you're used to. Here it is permitted, even encouraged to get to know people on a personal level rather that the shallow surface interaction you are probably used to," he smiled at her again.

"Thanks for the concern...um...Jack is it? I just don't respond well to being interrogated or patronized. I'm highly successful in my field and I live an equally successful private life."

"So why did you come here?"

That stopped her. "I...uh...I have always been fascinated with history. That's why I'm here." Jenna smiled as if she was sure she had put him in his place. "Why are you here?"

"Oh that's easy. As you might have noticed, I'm a bit too assertive to fit comfortably in the regular PC mold. Here being aggressive is considered a plus not a minus...as long as it's focused aggression."

Jenna was fascinated in spite of herself. "What exactly is focused aggression?"

"It's when you focus on a goal and let nothing deter you. It was what made our ancestors succeed so brilliantly before everyone became so concerned about the false security of mediocrity. In this social system, there is right and wrong...black or white...no shades of situational gray."

"That doesn't seem to leave much room for human weakness or extenuating circumstances."

"No it doesn't. That's one of the many things I like about this time period."

"One? What else do you like?" Jenna was a little surprised at how easily she was falling into this "personal" mode.

"That men are in charge," Jack said simply.

"What does that mean?" Jenna wasn't being coy. The concept of one gender "being in charge" as he said, was foreign to her.

"It means that men are responsible for creating the parameters...the rules if you will...by which all under their protection are guided. Men are held responsible for everyone's safety, so they get the control."

"That sounds barbaric."

"I suspect it is compared to what you're used to. Does the concept frighten you?"

"Should it?"

"No, but you don't strike me as a woman who would like to follow some else's rules. Am I wrong?" His warm brown eyes looked piercingly into hers as if he could delve the secrets of her soul.

Jenna looked down at her hands in her lap. She began fiddling with the fan she held...anything to avoid the intense scrutiny of this avowedly forceful man. She felt herself grow warm and her heart seemed to speed up. Could he tell that being under the protection and control of a strong man had been one of her most mortifying fantasies? How embarrassing! She couldn't seem to catch her breath.

"Am I wrong?" Jack repeated.

"Of course you're not wrong!" Jenna answered too quickly and too vehemently to be believed. Jack smiled and Jenna flushed a deeper shade of red. "I am proud of my independence and my capabilities. I am competent and self-actualized! I wouldn't want..."

"Perhaps you wouldn't want to give up control, but something tells me you need to."

"Of all the insufferable insulting intrusions! Who do you think you are to make assumptions about what I do or do not need. Your audacity is appalling! Now if you'll excuse me..." Jenna got up to leave.

He smiled. He knew she was blustering for effect, and he found it rather endearing. He crossed behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing her gently back into her chair.

Jenna shrugged his hands off, and twisted around to look at him. "Hey, fella! Who gave you permission to touch me?"

"I don't require permission. I am a man and I am a fourth year trainee."

"Is this where I start humming a little of Nearer My God To Thee?"

"That would do for starters. Actually, my touching your shoulders was recorded by the real-time camera over there. It has already recorded both our names and the fact that I have claimed you."

"Claimed me! You arrogant idiot! I'm not a prize at an old-fashioned-fair."

Jack laughed as he came from behind her and sat in a chair that seemed too small to hold his muscular frame. Jenna felt a tickle of excitement on her neck, and she could feel her face grow warm. The man was definitely attractive...and dangerous she reminded herself silently.

"That you know those things existed speaks well for your scholarship of past times. That will stand you in good stead when we colonize together."

"Colonize together...you mean marry?"

"Among other things."

That's it! Jenna thought. This guy put the "P" in presumptuous!

"Listen you dolt, I don't know who you think you are. . ."

"That is one of the first things we will change."

"What?" Jenna sputtered. He'd changed the track of the conversation and she wasn't sure she was following it very well.

"Your propensity for calling me names. I don't like it, so stop it."

"Who do you think you are Buster?"

"I've told you, but I can see I will have to elaborate. I am a fourth year trainee, and I have chosen you to take with me to help colonize Tranquility, a small planet in the Barton quadrant. My choice has been recorded so you will not be approached by any other fourth year man. I have based my choice on data reviewed from both your application as well as your individual tracking information profile. All the intelligence on you intrigued me, but my personal evaluation has convinced me that you will eventually adapt well to this new social order."

"And I don't have anything to say about this?" Jenna was amazed at his brazenness. "Very little."

"What if I don't want to be 'chosen'? What if I don't want to colonize anything?"

"You can of course choose that path, but it is unlikely. You would've never been given that pin if the data from your application and the results of the individual tracking information, had not identified you as a colonization candidate. You have a high risk quotient. That is essential for a good colonist."

Jenna didn't even ask what the "individual tracking information" was. It sounded self-explanatory, and they were dead-on. She did enjoy risk. She always had.

"Alright. Suppose your information is correct, what makes you think I'd choose you to go with? Maybe I'd rather look at all the four year men who are available."

"That is not possible. My choice has been recorded. You will go with me, or you will not go."

"That's hardly fair! Is it just me who doesn't get a choice, or is it all women?"

"All women."

"That's monstrous! Why don't women get to have any say?"

Jack sighed heavily. He'd been warned in his training that women often required explanations of what, to men, seemed patently clear. He'd been told to take the time for explanations, particularly in the early stages of training. The time for unquestioning obedience would come later.

"No, it is logical. Colonization is a high-risk endeavor. Past-time colonization patterns have been studied and applied. It would seem that the success rate increased when each colonization team had a strong leader; one who made all the major decisions. . .in this case it is the man who is the leader. It is a momentous decision who to colonize with, and best left in the hands of the decision-makers."

"Do you guys have to pass some secret Chauvinist test? You must have gotten a high score!"

"We were all chosen like you, based on our applications and the I.T.I. We were screened for leadership capabilities and then placed in a rigorous training program. Part of our training had to do with choosing our colonization partner, and her subsequent training. We seem to have gotten off to a bad start. Let us begin again." He stood up and sketched a small bow reminiscent of centuries past.

"Hello. I am Jack." He smiled and his whole face changed. Jenna could feel her heart constrict.

"My name is Jenna," she held out her hand with a smile.

"May I sit down?"

Jenna smiled up at him and nodded. Now this was a game she could play! she thought. All these "old-world" manners. This was why she had come to this amusement park in the first place.

Jack sat and looked at her intently. Jenna felt a shiver go up her spine. The pause seemed to go on for a lifetime, and Jenna was feeling decidedly uncomfortable. Rather like a bug pinned in a Petrie dish. . . very much a specimen.

"Please stop staring at me like that," Jenna blurted.

"I do beg your pardon. I was merely wondering how to proceed with your training."

"Oh good lord! Are we back to that? Well Jack, you can take your training and put it where the sun don't shine. I'm outta here!" Jenna scraped her chair back and stood.

Jack's hand flashed out and captured her wrist. "Sit down," he said with cold deliberation.

"Let go of my arm!" Jenna tried to pull free, but couldn't.

"I said, sit down and I meant it. You are creating a spectacle. I'm warning you now, sit down or I will give everyone here something to talk about."

As vague threats go, this was pretty good. Besides she didn't have much choice since he still hadn't let go of her wrist. Jenna sat.

"Better," Jack said. He adjusted the cuff of his shirt and glanced around to assess the amount of notice they'd garnered. An older couple passing by smiled at him conspiratorially as if to say, It'll all work out, young man. Jack smiled and nodded.

"You can't keep me here against my will."

"Why not? I have claimed you, and you are simply being stubborn. You know that the temptation of going to colonize a planet is so great for you, that you'd even tolerate being my partner. I know that the notion of being in an old fashioned male dominated relationship pushes all of your sexual and emotional buttons..."

"How dare you? My...my...buttons are my own business!"

"And now they are mine," Jack said simply.

"In a pig's eye!"

"You will simply have to take my word for it. The matter has been decided. I don't know why we have to engage in such silly diversions. We have very little time before we must leave, and we should begin your training at once!"

"What do you mean we have very little time?" Jenna was horrified. Her question could be construed as tacit agreement to his preposterous proposal. "I mean when are you scheduled to leave?"

Jack smiled. "We leave in thirty suntimes. It is not much time to accomplish all that needs to be done."

"Such as?"

"Such as, you must sever all ties in your homeplace. We must marry. We must begin your training. We must remove ourselves to the staging area and prepare our vessel for our journey. We must assemble our manifest to include all we will need for the initial stage of colonization. We must meet the other colonist pairs who will join us in this endeavor. We must establish specific responsibility sectors for each of the colony-pairs. . ."

"Whoa! Just a minute. Why are we assigning responsibility sectors to anyone?"

"I'm sorry Jenna. I forgot to make clear that I am the leader of this expedition and as my life-mate you will also share some of the leadership responsibilities, especially as to the purview of the female contingent..."

"Oh great! Just my luck! I get stuck with the most domineering of a group of overbearing men! How can one girl be sooo lucky? Oh and I get to take care of all those pesky little female details. I can't tell you how flattered I am! You know, to be able to use my little ole University education to such advantage!"

"Your sarcasm is not appreciated, nor will it be tolerated."

"Oooh Captain, sir! What're you gonna do? Make me walk the plank?" Jenna couldn't help herself. She always became acerbic when she felt manipulated...and she felt decidedly manipulated by this arrogant, self-important, overbearing tyrant of a man. And, she was ashamed to admit, there was something about this wrangling that was exciting...

"This is neither the time nor place to discuss consequences for improper behavior. I will tell you though, that you won't find it pleasant. I will also tell you that you will experience those consequences fairly soon if you don't change your attitude."

"What's the matter with my attitude? I like my attitude!" Jenna was enjoying goading this autocratic dictator. She loved the little angry twitch in his jaw she could produce so easily.

"It is time-wasteful and counter productive. As such it becomes a hindrance to our mission and it will cease immediately."

"That's it? Just because you say so?"

"Yes."

"No!" Two could play this game, Jenna thought.

Jack stood up, grabbed her upper arm and force-marched her into the hotel lobby. Jenna tried to squirm free, but he held her almost immobile with his arm around her waist, as he propelled her into the old-fashioned elevator.

"Fifth floor, please," he said to the young elevator operator.

"What in the hell do you think you are doing?" Jenna hissed at him in a loud whisper.

He bent his head as if her were going to nuzzle her ear and whispered, "I have decided to begin your training."

She struggled to break his hold. She wiggled and pulled. She tried to push him away. But in the end, when the elevator door opened, he strode purposefully to her door dragging her with him. He knocked sharply, and in moments Brandy opened the door. She looked at the devastatingly handsome man and smiled at Jenna.

"Nice work," Brandy said. "And in record time! I'm impressed!"

"Leave us," Jack pushed past Brandy into Jenna's room.

"Now just a damn minute!" Jenna exploded. "This is my room and my maid. Where the hell do you think you're going?" she said to Brandy's retreating back.

"Sorry honey. Around here the guys rule," Brandy said over her shoulder. "Have fun!" she closed the door behind her.

Jenna spun back around in time to watch Jack close the heavy draperies, plunging the room into semi-darkness. She watched in horrified fascination as Jack picked up a chair and placed it in the middle of the sitting area. Then he went to her dressing table and picked up a heavy oak hairbrush which had been provided by the hotel. He smacked his open hand experimentally. The only person in the room who winced at the loud crack was Jenna. Jack seated himself in the chair.

"Come here," he said almost gently.

"Why?"

"Because time is short, explanations must be given, and training must begin. Come here," he repeated.

As if mesmerized, Jenna walked over and stood in front of him. She felt queasy, but dismissed it as nervousness. After all she didn't know this man that well.

"The explanation of training is complex, but rooted in past times. The gist of it is that we have discovered that the colony pairs which were the most successful were those who had a strong leader..."

"You already told me that."

"Yes, but I didn't tell you that along with adapting their leadership model, we have also adopted some of their training modalities as well."

"Like what?"

"Like spanking."

"What is that?" Jenna had never even heard the term before.

"It is a form of incentive/punishment technique practiced almost exclusively on women and children. It is a clear delineation of authority, and it can be accomplished anywhere. The purpose is to train women for our purposes to accept without question the authority of the male."

"But that's..."

"Yes, I know, very Philosophically Incorrect...but necessary. Where we are going there are likely to be dangers we can't even imagine. I must be able to tell you to do something and have you do it without thinking about it. It could mean the difference between life and death."

All of this sounded enormously serious and important. The significance of training to colonize an uninhabited corner of the galaxy appealed to Jenna's hunger to have an meaningful cause that was bigger than herself. It didn't hurt that she'd be paired with the most exasperatetingly sexy man she had ever met. Sexual and emotional buttons indeed! He only knew the half of it!

"But why did you bring me up here? You could have explained all this down in the dining room."

"Yes, I could have explained it, but I could not have demonstrated the efficacy of the system. It has about it a certain intimacy which would be inappropriate in a public setting. For instance, I am going to ask you to remove your skirt and petticoats. You may leave the rest of your garments on since we are not yet married."

He sat and waited for her to obey. Jenna couldn't believe she'd heard him right. He wanted her to take off her clothes? She just stood there staring at him. She tried a couple times to speak, but nothing would come out of her mouth.

"Do you require help?" Jack asked.

"I. . . I. . . don't know. . ." He didn't sound angry, just very matter-of-fact. She couldn't make any sense of it.

"Jenna turn around. Let's get this over with."

Jack took her slim hips and spun her around so her back was facing him. He systematically released each small button from its hole. Letting the skirt drop in a puddle at her feet, he quickly untied the tabs which fastened her three petticoats around her waist and let them fall to the ground. Jenna was left in her pantalettes, her chemise, her corset, and the top of her dress.

"Now if you would please drape yourself, stomach down, across my knees," Jack gestured with a flourish.

"Are you sure? That seems very peculiar." Jenna was shaking her head back and forth.

Jack lost patience and positioned her across his knees with a jerk.

"Ooof! This can't be right!" Jenna tried to get up, but Jack's hand pressed firmly in the middle of her back wasn't allowing her to move. "Please let me up! My corset is biting into my ribs. It hurts."

"Perhaps I will require that you bring it with us to use in punishment situations like this."

"Punishment?! You said training. I've done nothing to merit punishment. Let me up you big ox!"

Jack brought the flat of the heavy hairbrush down across her butt. Jenna was unprepared for the sensation of burning pain which coursed through her whole being. She screamed. Jack swatted her again.

"The first lesson is that when I tell you to stop calling me names. . . you stop." Jack brought the hairbrush down again, targeting the underside of the curve.

"Yeeouch! What do you think you're doing? That hurts!"

"That is the point. The purpose is to produce enough discomfort that you carry the memory of it for awhile. " Jack targeted the far side then peppered the nearer side with an equal number of swats.

Jenna screamed and tried to buck herself off his lap with no success. She had never felt so helpless or so humiliated! She finally degenerated into begging and sobbing.

"Please! Please! I'm sorry. I won't ever call you a name ever, ever again. Ouch! Stop, stop. Please. . . oh please!"

Jack stopped and waited for her to stop crying. "You can see why it works so well as a deterrent for bad behavior."

"Yes. Oh yes! Please can it be over?"

"We still have the issue of your sarcastic mouth to deal with."

Without pause Jack paddled the tops of her thighs just where they met the curve of her butt. He wanted to be sure she remembered this lesson every time she tried to sit down. Jenna screamed some more. There seemed to be no distinction between the separate blows; they all blurred together in a fiery combustion on her butt. She finally lost all her fight. She just laid there limply, praying for it to be over. Jack gave her one more good smack for effect and stopped. Jenna tried to push herself off his lap, but he continued to hold her there.

"I want you to listen very carefully Jenna. This is the kind of training incentive I will use every time with you. When you disobey a direct order, when you undermine my authority, when you question what I ask you to do, I promise you that you will end up across my knee each and every time. But I also promise to treat you with respect, to consult you as a valued partner and to listen to your opinions. If these two promises seem contradictory, I must admit at times they may be, but I will have the final jurisdiction not you. We are going into an adventure permitted to a very few people in recorded history, and it will take all of the best that is in us to survive and succeed. All that is necessary for us to proceed is for you to defer to my authority. Now that you know what form your training may take, you can make a more informed decision." He released the pressure on her back, making it clear he would no longer hold her there.

Jenna pushed herself unsteadily from his lap. She stood in front of him rubbing her butt, with tears running down her cheeks. She didn't say anything. Jack thought she was the most beautiful woman in the cosmos at that moment.

"If you agree to forging a partnership, I can promise you a few compensations," Jack smiled up at her and held open his arms. Jenna folded back onto his lap, held in his embrace this time. Jack kissed her neck softly, then each of her still wet eyelids, and finally her tender mouth. Jenna sighed.

This was going to be quite a journey, she decided as Jack ran his hand up and down her back soothingly, and not just the trip to the planet Tranquility. Jenna snuggled into Jack's chest. She didn't know where they would eventually live, but for now she knew she was home.

To Be Continued...