He Married an Amazon

Luke got to the airport an hour before Magda's flight was due to arrive. He was wildly eager to meet his new wife. Her pictures showed a stunning woman. The man who had facilitated the marriage assured him that the photos were really her and had not been retouched. Once his car was parked, Luke made his way toward the reception area. There were plenty of people there. He hated crowds because he was so short, barely over four feet tall, and slender. More often than he cared to remember, he had been mistaken for a boy in his middle teens. It didn't help that he had soft features and, at 21, still couldn't grow a beard.

He got close to the front of the close-packed bodies but his height made it impossible for him to see over other people. With some wriggling and squeezing he put himself in front of everyone else. Standing behind stanchions and the ropes between them, Luke checked his watch every few minutes. He shifted his small feet restlessly. A flight before the one he wanted landed. A security worker opened a section of rope to allow newcomers to pass through. Some of the people around Luke departed with newly arrived passengers, easing the congestion slightly.

From the beginning his plan had gone well. He had learned about the availability of brides during an on-line search. The obscure country of Microslavia was little more than two long valleys nestled between endless mountain ranges. The women were meek and obedient to their husbands and, best of all, short of stature. And the one he had picked for himself, Magda, was busty and wide-hipped under her colorful native garb, but with a trim waist.

The agency that arranged everything (for a fee) had been endlessly helpful. Their representative, Largo Krill, had seen to every detail. Luke expressed concerns that Magda might simply want to use him to gain entrance to the US, achieve citizenship, and then move on. Largo took extra steps to have the marriage made official in both countries well in advance, and to make it ironclad so that she or he couldn't back out for a minimum of five years (all done for an extra fee). He had even completed additional paperwork so that Luke would be able to travel to her country as easily as she had been able to come to his (which involved only the slightest additional payment more). The two nations were on good terms and wanted to keep it that way, which is why both had made special exceptions that allowed unions like this to be made even before the parties involved had met.

As Luke stood there, time seemed to slow to a crawl. But at last the big board overhead noted that her flight had landed. A short while later the big double doors at the far end of the space opened and people streamed through. He searched for the face of his new spouse, with its dark almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones, long narrow nose, and full-lipped mouth, all framed in waves of cascading black hair. The small man stood on tiptoes. He reminded himself that because she was short like him, Magda might be hidden behind someone.

The automatic doors closed for a moment and then opened again. More passengers flowed through them. There were several men with briefcases, a man and woman with a half dozen children, an unnaturally tall woman who towered over everyone else, a young couple who bickered as they approached, and an old man with a carved cane. Luke's eyes darted around, searching fruitlessly.

The abnormally tall female couldn't be from Microslavia. She had the same dark wavy hair as Magda. The broad face was similar. But she was at least six and a half feet tall, if not closer to seven. As she got nearer he saw that she possessed the same attractive figure, though at that exceptional height, her full bust and generous hips proportionately large, she was almost threatening. Her long legs suddenly carried her ahead of everyone else. She was coming straight toward Luke. Her piercing eyes locked on his and she grinned widely, teeth gleaming.

Stopping directly in front of the short, confused man, she looked down over her massive bust and said, "Little husband. I am here."

"No, no," he said softly, overwhelmed by her sheer size. "You must be mistaken. I'm waiting for Magda Garr."

"Yes, yes. I am her." She put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed affectionately, but also hard enough that it hurt. "We are married."

Luke tried to pull away but couldn't break her grip. "I think you're... um... wrong?"

"No mistake. You are Luke. Mister Largo Krill fix everything. We are married now, you and I. For always."

Magda bent forward, hugged him to her bosom, and straightened up without letting go. He was lifted off his feet and hung there, legs dangling, as she kissed his forehead. People walking by turned their heads at the odd sight. The freakishly tall woman and the boy - or was that an oddly short adult man? - provoked smiles, along with whispered exchanges and barely stifled laughter. Luke's soft cheeks flushed.

He hissed at her, "Please, Magda. Put me down."

"Ha, ha. Okay." She carefully set him on his feet, handing him as if he might be fragile. "Why are you..." Her brow creased as she searched for the right word. "... upset?"

"I thought you would be, um, not so, err..."

"So tall?" She chuckled. "This happens. Man thinks he is getting short size girl from eastern valley. They are tiny like you. But I am big healthy girl from farm in western valley. You are so lucky." She took his hand and resumed walking, dragging him along. He nearly had to run to keep up. "Luggage being sent to your house. Our home. Mister Krill think of everything."

From behind he marveled at her bottom, so wide and full and firm. In a daze he made sure they got to his car. She fit on the passenger seat but only barely. He got them to his place and they went inside. Magda took off her light, hand-woven jacket and long skirt, to reveal a white sleeveless blouse that exposed her arms, along with brief culottes that left her legs bare. And what arms and legs they were, well formed and obviously strengthened from working on the farm. She stepped out of her rather primitive shoes and flexed her toes. Magda had oversized feet to go with the rest of her, but they were narrow and not unattractive.

She gestured toward Luke's windbreaker. "Now you take off that. I have been waiting. Now is time to consume... constitute... con-sue-make..."

He understood what she was trying to communicate. Luke offered, "Consummate?"

"Yes," she leered down at him suggestively. "Consummate the sex."

"Consummate our marriage," he meekly corrected.

"What you say." She nodded.

When he didn't move, her long arms reached out to peel the thin jacket off him. Those big boobs were almost in his face. As unsettled as he was by the shock of her size, he couldn't deny that she was a sexy woman. His penis certainly agreed with that. It tingled demandingly. He mentally pictured himself on top of her, lord and master of all that desirable flesh, those well upholstered curves. As he undid the top buttons of his shirt he told himself that there had to be some way to have this marriage nullified later. But right now she wanted to hit the sheets and he definitely wasn't going to say no to that.

Still unbuttoning, he suggested, "Bedroom?"

"Bedroom, yes. Sleep, no. Many times sex we have."

This was sounding better and better. Maybe cancelling their union could wait a few weeks. Or months. This would make up for all the women who had rejected him in the past, or who he hadn't even had the nerve to approach, due to his shortness. And with the docile attitude his on-line sources had assured him was universal with Microslavian females, he could fulfill his every fantasy. He briefly considered that she hadn't been exactly retiring so far, but then put that out of his mind as he got his shirt the rest of the way off.

Moments later they were in the bedroom. She undid the large buttons on her blouse and pulled the garment off. Her breasts were super sized but so taut they didn't require a bra. As she shook out the raven tresses that hung halfway down her back, those twin glories quivered only slightly, just enough to be irresistibly erotic. Luke sat on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes and socks. He got back up to unbuckle his belt, open his pants, and lower his fly. His new bride watched him avidly as he got out of his slacks and stood there in just his boxer shorts. She skinned off her short culottes and spread her arms, proudly nude. Her belly was flat and her pubic triangle was short-haired and as dark as the hair on her head.

Being modest by nature, he turned his back while he got his shorts down and stepped out of them. Then he turned triumphantly toward his bride. His penis was stiff. Magda peered at its unimpressive length and girth. She frowned toward the four slender inches and the tapering head, as well as those undersized balls. And he had only the slightest growth of pale hair above.

"Is like story we tell at home. Little man from eastern valley marries big girl from western valley. Little and big like you and me. Man has no..." She pursed her lips. "... rooster? Different word. Yes. Cock. Tiny man has no cock. Just baby chick down there. Like you. Does Luke know rest of story?"

"Um... no."

"Big girl is not falling-onto-back like one from east. She is wanting more. I show you how story ends."

The naked giantess swept him off his feet, one arm behind his knees, the other across his lower back. She held him up effortlessly, gave a broad wink, and deposited him on the bed as if he weighed almost nothing. It made him feel helpless. Magda straddled his hips, her pussy lips parted by how her knees were spread. She certainly wasn't the shy girl he had expected. The short ones acted that way. But he had gotten one from the other side of the rocky ridge, from the wrong valley.

As he waited for her to sink down on his rampant organ, to engulf it in her warm moistness, she instead began shuffling forward on her knees. Her pussy passed his soft abdomen and his smooth unmuscular chest. She didn't stop until the center of her femaleness was directly over his mouth, only inches above it. He couldn't help inhaling her strong womanly musk.

"Magda," he whispered hoarsely. "We need to talk."

"Talk later," she told him as her hips descended. "Use mouth for different thing now."

He started to say something but his words were smothered by wet overheated pussy. Luke had never liked the idea of using his mouth that way. He had never done it. But he had read about it a little and seen it in girl-on-girl videos a lot. So he had a basic concept and knew enough details that, with minimal coaching from Magda ("Yes." "Good." "More that!") he was able to satisfy her. Accomplishing that to the extent that she desired, however, took nearly an hour. While he was licking and sucking and probing, she occasionally reached back, groped around, found his dick, and gave it a quick squeeze of approval.

At last, out of breath, having swallowed plenty of her sexual fluids, his lips and tongue feeling overused, he was relieved when she lifted herself up. There were tense moments while he waited to see if she would plump herself back down for more of the same. The woman seemed insatiable. But she dismounted and stood by the bed. Magda took his pants, dug into the pocket, and retrieved his wallet, keys and phone. The first two items she placed on top of his tall bookcase, where there was no way for him to reach them unassisted. Then she opened his phone. When she left the room he was too intimidated to move, even though he wanted to go wash his face and rinse his mouth. She returned with a slip of paper she must have gotten from one of the deep pockets in her skirt. Her long finger punched in a number, with pauses between digits. She held it up to her ear and listened. A moment later she was rattling off a torrent of words in what could only be her native language, full of guttural sounds and polysyllabic words, all of it punctuated by rollicking laughter and affirmative grunts. At last she snapped shut the device, after which it joined the others in their inaccessible location.

Next she gathered up his discarded clothes and made a show of tying the arms of his shirt and legs of his pants into knots. Magda held them out for him to examine. His eyes danced back and forth between the garments and her stupendous curves.

She said seriously, "You don't wear anything now. In the house. Nice and bare-bottom for me. Little (some word in her language, accompanied by holding her pinky finger out in front of her crotch to indicate his miniscule dick) for Magda to see always, ha, ha, ha. Understanding?"

He nodded. "Yes." Not sure if that was enough, he expanded it to, "Yes, dear. No clothes while I'm at home."

She gave him a lopsided grin, which appeared to reflect victory. Those dark glinting eyes, set in that wide face, studied him closely. Apparently satisfied by his reaction, she clapped her hands once.

"Now eat."

Luke rubbed the side of his jaw. He wasn't ready for anymore of the sort of eating he had just spent more than sixty minutes doing.

"You mean...?"

She saw his uncertainty and clarified, "Eat food kitchen."

He sighed, got up and, shamed and emasculated by his nudity, led her to the kitchen. There was leftover roast beef and potatoes, along with some steamed vegetables, more than enough for the two of them. She sat at the table and gobbled it all down while he stood there watching with disbelief. Magda then called for something to drink. He produced a carton of milk from the fridge. It was half full when he gave it to her and all empty when she set it aside. Some milk had dribbled onto the fronts of her substantial breasts.

"For you," she said, pointing toward the spilled liquid. "Lick up. Luke lick. In bed. In kitchen. Luke lick lots." She laughed at her alliterative wordplay.

Magda pushed back her chair. He got between her and the table, leaned forward, and lapped the upper surfaces of her boobs. She put her hands on the back of his head and drew his face down into her deep cleavage, where he found more wetness to tongue up, a combination of milk and perspiration. When she let him straighten, he saw that her nipples were hard. They stood out dramatically from those twin rotundities. He dared to extend a hand, thumb and finger separated just enough to take hold of one of her pink buds. Just as he was about to touch it she slapped his wrist hard.

"No, no, small man Luke. Only when I say so." She stood up, pinning him against the table. Her hand went between their bodies at her crotch level. She pantomimed a male masturbating. "And none of this. Not for you. If you have boy fun and squirt, it make you lick me slow and bad. So no that for you." She bucked her hips at him several times. "And no that with chick-chick. Only this." She held her hand in front of her lower face, palm inward, first two fingers extended in a 'V'. Her tongue came out to flick, snakelike, between them. "Only licking for Luke."

His expression of loss, when he realized she might be keeping him celibate, made her laugh loudly. Magda patted him on the head. She clamped her hands on his upper arms, held him immobile, and rubbed her boobs back and forth across his face. His little dick got so stiff it hurt.

She made room between their bodies, gave his erection a warning swat, and cautioned, "Remember. No play with. Magda will know. Instead, make you very..." She gave another boobs-on-face rubbing. "Luke always want sex but not get. You have better tongue that way. Better for Magda."

His head was swimming. This couldn't be real. In a matter of hours he had gone from hopeful newlywed to desperate sex slave. As if to make sure he understood everything, she put her hands on his shoulders and pressed down, easily forcing him into a crouch. Magda pulled his face against her solid thigh. She made kissing sounds. He understood and began worshipfully pressing his lips to her upper legs, one and then the other, obediently lavishing attention on them, demonstrating his submissiveness. She turned around and he had to do the same for her protruding buttocks. They filled his field of vision, as if his world consisted of only those targets of his devoted attention. His wife reached around and seized his head with both hands. She moved his face so that his nose was in the cleft of her bottom. Just as she was pushing back her hips and burying his features in her deep valley, there came a loud knock on the front door.

Magda said something that sounded like an impatient curse in her own tongue. Then she grabbed Luke's hair and pulled him painfully to his feet. Giving him a hard slap on the rump, she commanded, "Go now, answer door."

He stumbled away from her and hurried to the living room. Who could be there? Did she mean for him to answer it while unclothed? He got to the door and put his hand on the knob. Magda made a sound like she was coaxing a stubborn animal to move. In a confusion of fear and anxiety, he opened the door slightly, hoping whoever was out there wouldn't see his nudity.

On the front porch were two women as tall as Magda. One was slightly thinner, with sharp features and a sneering look. The other was about a hundred pounds heavier than his bride, with all of that weight having gone to her bulging breasts, hips, thighs and, he saw as she pushed past him, especially to her massive bottom. He staggered backwards as they gave him condescending looks and then hugged Magda. Feeling numb from shock, he closed the door.

Magda told Luke, "Is say hello to my friends from Microslavia. They come to America first. Is Lava and Vulva. Lava is wrestle for money and beat other girls. Vulva is have many boyfriends but not for this." She made a circle with the thumb and forefinger of one hand, and put the first finger of the other hand through it, then worked it back and forth. "No sex boyfriends. Only push around and sit on them. They like. Pay her rent and plenty else."

The first of Magda's girlfriends looked at him like he was dirt. The other eyed Luke as if he was a piece of cooked lamb and she was starving. Both newcomers wore tight clothes and high black boots with tall chunky heels. Lava snapped her fingers and pointed to one leather shoe-tip. Vulva extended her foot and pressed her sole down on Luke's toes, at the same time licking her plump lips.

He understood what was expected. Luke sank to the floor on hands and knees. He reverently kissed first Lava at shin level and then Vulva. When they didn't tell him to stop, he moved on to their insteps. Next came the glossy toes. Then the two women went to the couch and sat side-by-side. Magda gave him a hard look from her superior height. He interpreted that as a signal to crawl after the women and continue his ministrations to their footwear. Now they had their legs extended, with their toes pointing upward. That allowed him to get his chin on the carpet, lift their feet one at a time, and take their thick heels between his lips, swallowing as much as he could, and fellating them obscenely.

Magda went to the kitchen, made some noise as she rummaged through the cabinets, and reappeared with a bottle of good whiskey and three squat glasses. She poured and distributed while her new husband continued to debase himself. The women toasted each other in Microslavian and downed the drinks without ill effect, like a trio of thirsty laborers.

There was another knock at the door. Naked Magda stepped out of the room. Lava answered. It was Magda's luggage, of which there was a lot. Luke hid behind the big recliner in the corner. He cowered there, fearful of exposure to the driver, who went and opened his truck and helped the two amazons bring everything in. They were plainly stronger than the professional. Magda had fetched Luke's wallet and now whistled to one of the others to come and get several bills with which to tip the delivery man. Luke knew without being told that his bride would control his money, along with everything else.