Rain’s End had no place to house everyone who wanted to attend the wedding of Dirk Sommer and Lady Griselda. The temple, and indeed the lady’s own hall, were too small for the mix of Amazons, Little Sisters, and Men who wished to view it. It was finally decided that the pair would march together down the main street of the town, and ultimately be married in front of the temple, in view of the citizens and soldiers.

Dirk stared down from Griselda’s window, as he had during the battle. A pair of servants had brought him a set of pristine white robes, a traditional wedding outfit for men in the Queendom. Dirk was letting them lay on the bed, spitefully refusing to put them on. He was sure he’d be forced into them at some point, but he wouldn’t make it easy.

A messenger from Griselda had called Cora away a few hours ago, no doubt intending to keep the rival for Dirk’s affections far away from the ceremony. They’d shared a final look as she left, and he sighed, knowing that nothing short of death would stop her from coming for him.

The door opened, and he turned to see Griselda’s cousin Isabelle walking in, a smug smile on her face, “The lizardfolk’s altar has been purified, they will no longer be able to come through it,” she said, closing the door behind her, “I am here to ensure you are prepared for your ceremony.” She frowned, looking at the wedding robes on the bed, “is there any reason you aren’t dressed yet?”

“Sorry but my enthusiasm is somewhat lacking,” he said, putting his hands on his belt as he sized her up, “I’m starting to wonder if I shot the wrong mages.”

Isabelle chuckled, “you’re a fiery one, if those skills of yours could be turned to your new wife’s direction you would be a great asset to her, and happier for it.” She moved towards him, placing her staff against the wall. “Put the robes on,” she ordered.

Dirk crossed his arms, “I’d rather not.”

He stared up at the amazon a moment, and then with a snarl she leapt at him. He grunted as her arms swept him up, pinning him to the bed as he struggled like a madman against her with all of his might. It was useless of course, Isabelle was no warrior, but she was nine feet tall, and stronger than any man would ever be. He gritted his teeth, shouting obscenities at her as her hands came down, slowly tying a pink ribbon around his neck.

“Silence!” she ordered, and although he wanted nothing more than to tell her to go to hell, he shut his mouth. She smiled, letting him up, “good boy, now stand.” The ribbon compelled him up, and he waited, at attention, a hateful glare in his eyes. Isabelle just rolled her eyes, walking around him and taking him in with a smirk as he found himself unable to move.

“You’re really going to make me wear a compliance ribbon for this?” he hissed angrily.

“One far more powerful than the standard issue,” she replied idly, “most of the measures in place for a man’s safety have been removed, I don’t wish to take any chances with a man who can slay four lizardfolk mages.”

“I definitely shot the wrong spellcaster,” he growled.

“The impudence is adorable,” Isabelle said dismissively, “but for now you will dress and groom yourself in a pleasing manner, you will do everything you can to make yourself look nice.” She paused, “do be sure to throw a neckerchief on over that ribbon… Do we understand each other?”

“Yes,” he muttered, unable to refuse an answer.

“Good, now when my cousin’s women come to take you away you will follow them, you will behave. When you march down the aisle you will smile like it is the happiest day of your life.” She sighed happily, seeming to enjoy his defeated look, “you are not just getting married today, you’re starting your life as a proper man of the queendom, a man fitting the purpose the goddess set for him.”

He remained silent, just waiting for her to leave. He wanted nothing more than to leap at the towering woman, useless though he knew it would be, but the ribbon forced him to simply smile and nod as she left, chuckling. He noted angrily that she didn’t even bother to lock the door this time, confident the ribbon would keep him from fleeing.

With a sigh he turned towards the bed, unbuttoning his shirt as he prepared to dress himself in the ornate robes.

…

Tom stared at the burned ruins of the tavern, Cassidy at his side. He’d given his three ranch hands the day off, there didn’t seem to be anything to be done except attend the wedding anyways, and he’d taken to the town with Cassidy to observe the damage from the attack and try to think of what, if anything, there was left for him to do.

“I wonder where I’ll play the fiddle now?” he mused, turning away from the rubble.

“Sitting on my knee,” Cassidy said, resting a hand on his hat a moment.

He smirked and right it, he’d changed back into his usual well-trimmed black attire, the white dress duds having been completely ruined by the blood and dirt of battle. The two of them were in a somber mood, an odd contrast from the celebrating masses who passed them by. Fine ales were being opened, and it seemed people were gathering and laughing with friends and family up and down the street. Soon it would be completely packed as the latecomers finished arriving, and then they’d be jammed together by the shops as Griselda’s women cleared the streets for the procession.

Dirk my friend, I’ve done all I can do, Tom thought sadly. He sighed and looked up at Cassidy, who shared his expression.

“We’ll find a way to get him out of this,” she said quietly.

“Don’t do anything foolish today,” he reminded her, “we’ll watch, and we’ll see if anything can be done… but running out there and getting skewered by a guard won’t help a thing.”

…

“I cannae believe she’s foul enough tah do this, after all the lad did for ‘er!” Argus thundered, the okay scent of his whiskey soaked breath following after every word. “It’s an injustice!”

“It is,” Cynthia muttered, sparing the dwarf a glance. He’d been an unexpected guest as she’d pondered her next move, but not an unwelcome one. The diminutive man’s anger was a welcome change from the celebration of most of the town’s residence. “This… it flies in the face of everything the goddess stands for! What she created the Amazons to do!” She huffed, rubbing her temples, “I… I need to pray on this.”

“Do tha,” Argus growled, “I’m going to go find that fancy bastard Tom and his lasses… maybe see if I can’t put a little fire into their bellies.”

Cynthia watched him go, then with a sigh retreated to the back of the temple, “he’s gone,” she said quietly.

“I think we could have trusted Argus,” Cora said uncertainly.

“I think it best to keep your location known by as few people as possible,” Cynthia said, “you will hear the temple bells ring when Griselda and Dirk are outside. You can leave the temple then, and you shouldn’t have any of her guards between you and her… Do you really think she’ll duel you for Dirk’s hand?”

“She can duel me or I can run up and cut her down,” Cora muttered, “but I don’t think she’d turn down the opportunity for a one on one fight in front of the town like this.”

Behind the main hall was a small room with nothing but a statue of the Goddess and a small oil lamp. Cynthia lit the light, watching it flicker across the bronze woman for a moment, then she sat on the floor, crosslegged, and began to entreat her goddess for aid.

…

The crowds began to line the streets as the guards emerged from the fortress, ushering everyone out of the way as Dirk was brought out. He was seated on a massive horse, an amazon war-mount that was far too big for him. In the front an armored guardswoman held the reins, leading the beast as Dirk smiled and waved to the crowd against his will.

The white robe he wore billowed slightly behind him, it was a flowy thing that exposed his chest slightly, no doubt meant to be enticing. It certainly had the desired effect, and he could feel the leering eyes of the crowd on him as the light breeze pressed the robe against him, outlining his body. At least one Amazon, standing further back in the crowd to allow the normal sized men and women to see, outright blew him a kiss. Some of the men shot her a disapproving look, but others clapped and laughed, and the jovial atmosphere spread through the people of the Queendom lining the streets as he was led past like a condemned prisoner.

He noticed Tom and Cassidy, hanging back from the rest of the crowd, and Argus next to them, his cheeks flushed and an angry look on his face as he took another swig from his flask. Tom gave him a grim look and tipped his hat, and Cassidy tipped her rose trim hat down, hiding her eyes.

So where are you going to come from Cora? He wondered, the crowd? Or… He looked at the temple steps, where Griselda waited for him in her own ornate white dress, towering like an angelic statue. She gave him a small smile, and next to her Isabelle waited in her ceremonial robes and skull, her staff at her side.

“Greetings people of Rain’s End,” Isabelle called, walking down to where Dirk was. He felt her hands around his waist as she lifted him off the horse, almost like he was some highborn lady who couldn’t do it himself, “We are here to celebrate the union of Lady Palledia Griselda, our liege, and her beloved Dirk Sommer, of the Human Empire.” She gripped Dirk’s hand and gave him a smile that no doubt looked warm to the watchers, but to Dirk seemed sinister. She led him up the stairs of the temple, leading him like a mother would lead a small child, and soon he was staring up at Griselda’s looming form.

He was forced to watch, and to listen, a goofy smile on his face, as Isabelle began her sermon on the future, on the submission of the husband, and the duty that Griselda would have to lead and protect the household, how they would raise strong and brave daughters together…

This should be me and Cora, he thought angrily, hate boiling up in him at everything this woman wanted to steal from him, his life, his land… his love.

“Do you, Dirk Sommer, take this woman to be your wife, to submit to her guidance and accept her protection, to support and advise her as you can?” Isabelle looked at him with that same false smile, and something in him broke.

I will not speak… He gritted his teeth, fighting against every bit of his body as it tried to comply with the orders the ribbon enforced.

Isabelle frowned, “I said, do you take Lady Griselda to be your wife?”

He let out a low growl, his fists clenched and shaking. In the crowd people were murmuring, and confusion was spreading amongst the people watching. Griselda’s face grew dark, and a frown crossed her features as she shot a look at Isabelle.

“Dirk, say you take Griselda to be your wife!” she ordered.

Dirk felt pain wrack his body as the ribbon fought against him, and he cried out, falling to his knees as he put everything he had into refusing the order. The crowd was becoming agitated now, and the guards that lined the streets looked at one another, unsure of what to do.

“Say you take me for your wife!” Griselda hissed angrily.

The temple doors burst open then, startling them all. Cora strode down, her features like carved stone as she strutted down to Dirk’s side. With a flourish she tore the white neckerchief off, revealing the pink compliance ribbon on his neck and causing the crowd to gasp in horror.

“Is that-“

“She’s got the lad in a compliance ribbon?”

“What in the name of the goddess is going on!?”

The guards drew their swords, shouting orders for the crowd to get back as disorder began to break out. Griselda’s face contorted into rage as she saw that Cora had exposed her.

“The Lady Griselda is marrying this man against his will!” Cora cried, causing the crowd to gasp, anger rising in them. “Dirk Sommer fought for this town,” she nodded down to the soldiers on the street, now wavering, looking from Griselda, to Cora, to Dirk… “You all saw him!” Cora shouted as loud as she could, “you saw how he saved you from the lizardfolk sorcerers! Is this how you’d see him repayed? Sold into a marriage he doesn’t want?”

“Silence!” Griselda shouted, her face red, “guards, I am your liege lady! Arrest Cora at once!”

Cora glared down at them, and the guards hesitated, some even sheathed their weapons again, looking aways as the crowd began to shout angrily.

“Stop!”

“He’s a hero!”

“You can’t do this!”

Cora turned back to a stunned Griselda and Isabelle, and pulled a second sword from her belt, “My lady,” she spat, “I’d like to offer you my blade one final time.”

Griselda’s eyes went wide, and with a snarl she took the offered sword from Cora, pulling it from the scabbard, “Guards!” she bellowed, “keep this rabble back while I deal with this traitor!”

“Ah dinnae think so!” a voice roared.

Argus barreled forward from the crowd, leaping forward in a tackle that caught one of the Amazon guards in the knees. The towering woman shouted in surprised, going down easily as the dwarf scurried up, shouting as he tried to pry a weapon from amazon’s hands. The rest of the crowd followed his lead, and to Griselda’s horror some of her women were simply sheathing their weapons and standing by rather than trying to force them back.

“Dirk, come!” Isabelle barked, leading him into the temple. Dirk gritted his teeth and tried to resist, his footsteps slow and shaking. With an angry sigh Isabelle simply scooped him up, tossing him over her shoulder and clasping his bottom with one hand. He wanted to swear at her as he realized she was using the opportunity to feel him up, but the ribbon didn’t let him speak out of turn. She looked back to her cousin, who was circling Cora, sword high, “I will take care of your betrothed until this matter is sorted.” Griselda spared a nod, returning her focus back to Cora.

Dirk watched as the doors were closed and Isabelle led him into the temple of Diana, the thick stone walls muffling the sounds of the riot outside. She sighed, leading him through the temple and releasing his hand, muttering angrily under her breath.

“By all rights I should just incinerate that rabble,” she muttered, “but it is a poor thing to have a priestess seen using magic on the Queendom’s citizens…” she smiled at Dirk’s angered expression, “oh? Does the boy have an opinion? Speak freely, I’m in the mood for levity.”

“Cora’s going to kill your cousin, then she’s going to come in here and kill you,” he spat.

Isabelle just chuckled, “I am the voice of the goddess boy, it is her divine will that such masculine rebellion is quashed, that the natural order be restored. Your friends will fail, and you will marry Griselda.” She regarded him a moment and he realized lust was in the priestess’s eyes, “perhaps I can indulge in some… corrective measures, I’m sure your wife to be will not mind. Tell me boy does that tongue of yours do anything but spout obscenities? I suppose I will find out.”

“You will do no such thing,” Cynthia said, walking from the rear of the temple, staff in hand.

Isabelle turned slowly, smirking at the much shorter amazon as she approached, “and does the Little Sister priestess have something she’d like to say?”

“You threaten a male, who is to be cherished and protected, under the roof of our goddess,” Cynthia said. Dirk felt the telltale pinpricks against the back of his head as magic filled the room and Cynthia’s eyes glowed blue, “you would call yourself Diana’s voice while using her gifts for wickedness, for using your divine office to facilitate injustices!”

“You can’t be serious girl!” Isabelle snarled, the cerulean glow filling her own eyes, “I’ve been practicing spellcraft since before you learned to walk- AH!” she was cut off as she was blasted across the room, the telekinetic force sending her toppling over and crashing through the pews of the temple’s main room.

“Perhaps the time has come for a test of faith,” Cynthia said, her voice low, distorted, like she was speaking from behind a rushing waterfall.

Isabelle rose, lightning crackling around her as she sneered, her eyes such a bright blue that it almost hurt Dirk to look upon them. Cynthia stood her ground calmly as the other woman roared with fury, chairs, tables, and lamps rising in the air around her.

…

Cora and Griselda screamed at one another, fighting like a pair of primordial titans as their swords clashed and clanged. Sparks rained down around them from the fury of the blows, and even as chaos raged around them the two saw nothing but one another.

“I have to do this Cora!” Griselda shouted defiantly, “someone needs to secure our future!”

“Through rape and murder!?” Cora screamed, emotion roiling in her voice as she brought another flurry of blows down in Griselda, slicing a billowing part of the noblewoman’s wedding dress, causing the white fabric to wave in the wind like a battle standard as Griselda hammered her own blows down from her position on the higher step.

“The world is changing Cora!” she said, driving her foe back down the stairs, “the mannish realms get stronger every year, the lizards more numerous and more hungry, the Queen would have us do what we have always done until the day we end up served for dinner or clasped in chains! Our way of life will be washed away like mud in a storm!”

Cora raised her sword, barely blocking a blow that would have split her face in two as she gritted her teeth, struggling to hold back the noblewoman’s assault. She saw her opening, and with a dramatic flourish she worked her way inside Griselda’s defenses, twisting the sword and sending it flying out of her hands with a flourish. Griselda’s eyes went wide as Cora shoved her bodily, sending her flying to the stairs. The air hissed as Cora’s sword came down, the point inches from Griselda’s neck as the woman panted in a mix of exhaustion and shock.

The crowed seemed to slow, the guards stopping their attempts to defend the temple as they looked at the scene. Silence fell, and everyone watched, waiting to see what Cora would do.

“Markus and Amaya, they were embracing the future,” Cora said softly, “and Dirk and I will too. I’ll find a way to meet whatever’s coming while remaining true to what is to be an Amazon…” She looked around a moment, “If you want a future built on… on this?” she gestured at the wedding procession, now in tatters, “I want no part of it, no good Amazon would…”

Griselda’s face fell, and she refused to meet Cora’s gaze, “Guards,” she called, her voice weak, “stand down…”

The guards looked at each other, then slowly sheathed their weapons. The crowd murmured amongst themselves, unsure of what to do. Cassidy strode forward, a rope in hand, and Cora couldn’t help but notice she was sporting a fresh black eye. She nodded at Cora, and before the assembled people she pulled Griselda to her feet, tying the Amazon noblewoman’s hands behind her back.

…

“Give up girl,” Isabelle shouted, lightning flying from her fingertips and crashing into the shield of air that Cynthia had prepared, “you are a weak little thing, and you always will be!”

Dirk had ducked for cover behind one of the stone pillars, watching hesitantly as the two women dueled. There was little for him to do but try to stay out of the way, though he couldn’t help but cheer internally as he saw Cynthia flick her wrist defiantly, sending the lightning flying away from her in all directions.

“The goddess does not make weak things,” Cynthia replied, her eyes shimmering, “she only gives different kinds of strength.”

“Save the platitudes for your sermons,” Isabelle snapped. Dirk’s eyes went wide as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The woman was preparing a truly destructive spell, and he looked around in panic as the temple itself began to quake.

Cynthia simply took a deep breath, then exhaled, lowering her arms and ceasing her spellcasting. Isabelle cackled in triumph as energy gathered above her. Dirk wanted to scream, Cynthia was just standing there, she was…

He blinked, was she… taller?

At seven and a half feet tall Cynthia was positively short by Amazon standards, but now her staff, normally towering over her head slightly, was even with it, then shorter. Dirk watched, awestruck, as Cynthia’s ascent continued.

“W-What are you doing?” Isabelle stammered, her spell fading, “t-this isn’t possible!”

Cynthia ignored her, closing her eyes, a blissful expression on her face as she reached twenty feet tall, thirty… The high temple ceiling roof cracked, crumbling around her just before she made contact, and Dirk staggered back, looking for cover as the temple itself began to crumble like dry bread around them. He heard the terrified and shocked gasps of the people outside as Cynthia loomed overhead, a true messenger of the goddess, a statuesque and towering beauty with energy crackling in the air around her.

Cynthia gazed down, the ruins of the temple walls as those of a sand castle, coming up to her ankles as she looked imperiously at the rival priestess. She smirked, then slowly raised her boot.

“It seems the Goddess has decided who is the faithful, and who is the heretic,” Cynthia’s voice thundered.

Isabelle’s eyes went wide, and she screamed one final time as a boot the size of a house thundered down on her, wiping her from existence in a divine show of wrath. Cynthia sighed, grinding her sole back and forth for a moment, as though stubbing out an ember from a campfire. Then smiled.

Dirk blinked, and in a moment Cynthia was at her normal size, walking towards him through the ruins of the temple with a sway to her hips and a smug grin on her face, the blue sheen to her eyes gone.

“W-Was that an illusion?” Dirk managed, looking up at the sky through the destroyed temple ceiling. Cynthia just chuckled, then slipped her boot off. She held it up to him, letting him see the sole that had crushed the rival priestess, and he grimaced, nodding slowly as she slowly put her foot back in. “Real then,” he muttered, a little awed at the display of power.

“Diana protects and blesses the faithful, and is quite merciless to those who do wickedness in her name,” Cynthia commented, grasping his hand and slowly leading him to the temple door, “come, we should go to the others… Cora is waiting for you.

…

Cora looked up at the sky above the shattered temple, blinking in shock and wondering if she’d imagined the towering form of Cynthia a moment before. Judging by the bewildered expressions on the crowd, the guards, and Griselda herself, she wasn’t the only one. The temple doors, still standing somehow, creaked open, revealing Cynthia, who lead Dirk out slowly by the hand, a warm smile on her face.

“I see everything has gone according to the will of the goddess,” she said, looking at the tied and bound Griselda, “We will contact the queen, and her justice shall handle the rest.”

Cora nodded, “w-were you just-“

“One hundred feet tall, yes,” she said, “I had to stomp out a bit of heresy. It was difficult but the goddess provides a way.” With a flourish she tore the compliance ribbon off Dirk’s neck, and a second later it burst into flame as she tossed it away.

“Finally,” he muttered, rubbing his neck and blinking, “so…” he sighed, looking around at the crowd, who was staring up at him expectantly, “Uh… I’m not really one for big speeches, so I’m just going to say thank you to everyone.”

From the way the crowd cheered, he may as well have given a speech on par with one of the Emperor’s own.

Cassidy grinned, “well Dirk, as good as you look in those wedding robes, I’m glad you’re not getting married today.”

“Who says I’m not?” Dirk asked, looking up at Cora, who suddenly went pale at the implication.

“I’m tired from all the magic I’ve used these last few days,” Cynthia said, a predatory grin spreading over her face at Cora’s discomfort, “but I could probably manage one more miracle…”

“Tom, get your fine ass up here to be best man!” Cassidy called. She frowned as she scanned the crowd, “Tom?”

…

Hardstone scowled angrily as she threw documents into the leather travel bag. Griselda had clearly lost control, it would only be a matter of time before the rabble came for her and the bank. She had accounts in the Empire, she even had agents as far away as the Elven realms if it came to it, she could go elsewhere… it would be difficult of course, and she’d lose much of her assets, but she wouldn’t be starting with nothing, or more importantly rotting in a cell…

Her head shot up as she heard the massive Amazon sized door to her office open, and she sneered angrily as she saw Tom walking in, a pistol on his hip.

“Take whatever gold you want from the vault,” she snapped, “just stay out of my way!”

“I’m not here for gold today,” he said, tipping his hat at her, “I figured as soon as things got hairy, a gal like you would scurry back here…”

“And what is it to you?” she snapped, “I know more than enough about you Tom Carlyle, the last time you walked into a bank it wasn’t for business! Don’t moralize to me!”

“The name’s Tom Cat,” he said sternly, “Tom Carlyle’s dead, and Hardstone’s going to be too if she doesn’t come quietly.”

Hardstone narrowed her eyes and stepped out from behind the desk, revealing her own pistol strapped to her hip, “I’ve always wondered how I’d fare against a real Imperial gunman,” she said with a grin, “I must admit, I did pick up the pistol as a hobby as you said, but I think I’ve gotten quite good.”

“Then I’m your huckleberry,” Tom nodded.

Hardstone’s hand was a blur, but Tom’s was like lightning, and her pistol hadn’t cleared leather before a bullet ripped through the woman, a perfect strike dead in the center of her chest. She had just enough time for a surprised expression before she tumbled backwards onto her desk, her pistol falling from her hand as her blood stained the documents.

“You’d have been fast,” Tom muttered, turning to leave, “but you only need to meet one person faster.”

…

“What’d I miss?” Tom asked, sidling up next to Argus. He raised an eyebrow at the ruined temple, but everyone seemed happy, so it must have been something good…

“Sommer an’ the lanky lass are getting’ married,” the dwarf said cheerfully, wiping a tear from his eye, “it almos’ makes a dwarf wish he had a special someone…”

“Oh really?” Atla’s voice called.

Tom turned around to see Flora, Suzette, and Atla all standing over them, grinning, “we could spend some special time with you if you want dwarf…” they all giggled at the dwarf’s sudden flustered stammering.

“Now ladies, my friend here is a sensitive type-“ he started, but he grunted as he was picked up by a pair of strong hands from behind. He grunted as he was sat atop Cassidy’s shoulders, her rose trimmed hat staring him in the eyes as he struggled to balance.

“Enjoy the ceremony Tom,” she said, laughing as she held his legs for balance, “take notes and see what you like…”

“Uhh… I don’t follow,” he said, feigning ignorance.

“Don’t worry, I’ll lead,” Cassidy replied, a smug smirk on her face as she held him high.

…

Cynthia beamed as she performed the ceremony, Cora’s parents were behind her, Theo grasping his Amazonian wife’s hand and wiping away a tear as the priestess began the final part of her speech.

“And do you, Dirk Sommer, take Cora Spearwall, to be your wife, to serve and cherish, to advise and support, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” he said, nodding up at her.

It was nothing like he imagined his wedding would ever be. Here he was, in an ornate set of robes, scrubbed clean and washed, looking almost like a nobleman on his way to temple back in Camford… a nobleman who wanted to show some skin anyway. His bride by contrast was still sweaty and coated in dirt from the battle, looming over him in a simple tunic and trousers that she’d chosen for her duel, and a well used sword at his side. Still, he couldn’t deny that it made him happier than he ever imagined possible.

“And do you, Cora Spearwall, take Dirk Sommer, to be your husband, to protect and guide, to provide for and defend, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do!” she said, grinning as she blinked tears out of her eyes.

“Then by the authority of the goddess,” Cynthia said, waving her staff dramatically, “I pronounce you husband and wife!”

Dirk grunted in surprise as Cora’s hands came up under his arms, lifting him up to her in a kiss as the crowd cheered.

…

Cora laughed, swaying slightly from the effects of a rather large amount of wine, as she carried Dirk, still in his wedding robes, into Griselda’s bedroom. With a flourish she tossed him to the bed, the sound of the party outside still echoing up to them.

“In her own bedroom?” he laughed, “really?”

“She’s spending the night in the dungeons, she won’t need it,” Cora said, climbing on top of him and kissing him roughly, silencing him as the gargantuan woman’s tongue invaded his mouth, all but forcing his head back as her hands explored him. He moaned into her mouth as her hands found his manhood, her large digits playfully running over it and enjoying the feel as he hardened under her attention.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” she breathed, separating from him a moment and taking in his body, “it’s going to be so hard to get you like this again…”

He frowned, “what do you mean?”

“Wearing clothes that show off your body,” she traced a finger over his exposed chest, “with your hair nice and shorn down here…” she gripped his manhood and giggled at his expression, “I like the rough and tumble Dirk, he’s who I fell in love with, but for our wedding night…” she licked her lips, “I’d be lying if I said I don’t like this look for you.”

“I could be convinced to be a prim and coquettish man now and then for you,” he laughed, “I actually had the most interesting conversation at our wedding feast… with a fellow who works at a certain establishment in town.”

Her eyes widened, “w-what was it about?”

He leaned close and whispered, “where a man can get an Royal Imperial Robe cut to show off his behind.”

Cora practically squealed with joy, undoing the sash on his white robes and clawing them off him as she imagined it. Her own clothes came off quickly too, and soon she was over her new husband, ready to take him as only a wife could.

He hissed slightly as her fingers curled in his hair, tugging just enough to arc his head back while she mounted him. He pushed against her, knowing it was what she would want, and his arms shook with exertion as she slowly, deliberately, brought his wrists up together in her favorite position over his head before casually pinning him with her left hand.

Dirk felt himself enter her as she thrust on him, easily holding his writing body down with her bulk as she used her free hand to run a finger along his pecs, down his stomach and tracing around his abs, straining as he fought with all of his strength to get away from her.

“Lovely,” she purred, “look at this wild Imperial man I’ve tamed for myself!”

“I’m not-“ he tried to deny it, but he was cut off as Cora’s hips bore down on him, riding him in her usual unrelenting fashion.

“What was that?” she breathed, grinding against him, laughing as she held his hands firmly, “come on, try to deny it!”

“I-I’m not tam-“ he couldn’t do it, every time he tried she would pick up speed, causing him to thrash and moan, sounds that were music to her ears as she mixed them with her own.

“You’re mine!” she crowed, tightening her thighs around him as she came, gritting her teeth as she looked down at her husband, releasing his hands so she could wrap her massive arms around him and pull him into her chest as they finished together.

“M-Maybe I’m a little tamed,” he admitted, panting slowly.

She giggled, holding him close as she rolled over, letting him lay across her massive body as she stroked his hair slowly. He felt another hand come up and squeeze his bottom, her thumb slowly kneading itself over his skin as the two of them rested silently.

“Just a little tamed,” she teased, “I’ll take what I can get… I don’t think I really want a husband that can be fully beaten anyway.” She sighed, “so dear husband, I’m tired, but not sleepy… what should we do about this?”

“Give me about five minutes,” he said, looking down at her with a grin, “then…” he licked his lips, “I-I’m going to tie your hands behind your back!”

Cora’s eye brows shot up, “you deviant!” she said with a grin, “let’s do it!”

Dirk laughed with his wife as she cradled him in her arms, thinking of all the things they’d fill their wedding night with before exhaustion took them.