Hope of Earth by Piers Anthony

definitely something. “Wona,” she said.
    Bil nodded, evidently understanding the ploy. Bil seemed to be the smart member of this band, like Ned in her own band.
    From behind the women came one who had remained in the background. This must be Wona. She was a stunningly beautiful young woman. Her fur was light and fine, her breasts large and firm, and her hips were wide. She moved lithely, showing no weakness of body anywhere. Her face was so sweet that it was almost impossible not to like her at first glance. But Flo made the effort, knowing that there was a catch somewhere.
    Wona came to stand before Sam. She smiled at him and inhaled. Sam’s intake of breath was audible across the glade. He was well impressed. His penis was lifting. He had feared he would have to mate an ugly woman, and here was an absolutely lovely one being offered to him.
    The old woman waited until she was sure Sam was hooked. Then she spoke again. “Dirk.”
    A man hobbled forward, clutching a bamboo staff. He was not using it as a weapon but for support; he was almost too weak to walk without it. The reason was hardly obscure: he had been badly injured. His ribs were bruised on one side, and were probably broken, and there was a large fresh scar on one leg from a wound that made the use of that leg painful, as each wincing step demonstrated. It would be some time before this man was much good at hunting.
    Dirk came to stand before Flo. “Dirk go band,” he said, with an apologetic grimace. He knew she would not be interested.
    Now the old woman made her point. “Wona Dirk go band.”
    Sam shook his head. He was not so dull as not to see that Dirk was no bargain. He did not want to stick Ro or their band with him. “Wona yes, Dirk no.”
    The woman shook her head. “Band siblings. Go, go.”
    She meant that if Sam wanted Wona, Ro would have to take Dirk—the one man who was willing to join a new band. Because he was no longer welcome in this one, being unable to hunt. He was a liability.
    What were they to do? Wona was the embodiment of Sam’s wildest dream. Dirk was a disaster.
    Yet Ro herself was not as she was presented, because of the secret of her rape and lost baby. And in time Dirk should recover and be able to hunt again. His rueful look had a certain perverse appeal; hé didn’t like being foisted off on another band like this, but had no choice. He had to do what this band wanted, or be cast out to die. He was not a bad-looking man, apart from the injury. And obviously he would be no threat to Sam’s leadership of the band.
    Ro knew she was cursed anyway. She had lost her most precious quality, her innocence, and her most precious thing, her baby. Now she would lose her most precious dream: that of a handsome, strong, excellent provider. Maybe it was better to accept her lot, for the sake of the joy it would bring Sam.
    She stepped forward and kissed Dirk on the mouth, embracing him and pressing her breasts against him. She was accepting him. She saw his eyes widen with amazement, and heard a murmur of surprise and pleasure pass through the other members of the band. They had expected her to reject the deal, but were pleased that she had not.
    Sam, released by that second consent, leaped at Wona and swept her into his embrace. The woman accepted him, returning his embrace emphatically. She wrapped her legs around him, and they dropped to the ground, immediately mating. This was part of the ritual: by mating, they established their commitment to each other in a way that all understood. Of course it wasn’t normally done in the direct presence of the band, but at least this way it served as entertainment for the children.
    Flo had to mate similarly with Dirk. Fortunately she was female, and so could pretend interest, having no member whose lack of stiffness would give her away. She walked with him to his sleeping site, at the edge of a shallow cave, nominally private. She went down on the ground with him, and as his disbelief