Wedding Knight

Of course I said yes, though I probably seemed more panicked than overjoyed, because that was how I felt. Because I really wanted to marry her. And I was also still bound in honour to murder her. It was my dream come true, and my nightmare.

I struggled for days to set my mind in order, until in desperation I promised myself that I would give myself a month's grace, then tear my own heart out. At that point, though, I stopped caring what came after I struck, as I knew I would never be happy again in any case. If I bumped my breasts a bit more or made my feet slightly daintier to present a more exquisite bride for the empress' enjoyment, then it hardly mattered if it cut into my ability to change myself afterwards. The only limit on changes was that I couldn't stray into the unexplainable.

So, the dress I wore would be the envy of millions, tailored to show off a tiny waist and fascinating hips, and neither exaggerating nor minimising my increasingly famous bust. It made my purported descent from slaves bred for sexual characteristics impossible to miss, but because it was noted by the elite that someone as exalted as the Empress Herself valued this, it became a sort of craze. By the day appointed for the imperial wedding, all the most fashionable women had dresses squeezing them into some suggestion of my shape, and fashionable men had hired those courtesans most able to present a similar silhouette.

There was some outrage at the prospect of the empress wedding me, a jumped up daughter of a sex slave, but that outrage emanated from the same people who would never approve of the empress wedding any female, while opposing most anything else the empress advocated. Thus the judgements of such intransigent antagonists could be safely ignored. Their discontent might have spread more widely, but of course I wasn't becoming a first wife in the sense of a spouse with official imperial honours of her own. Legally, I had the same status as a concubine; only because she had no other spouse I was referred to as her "wife" by courtesy rather than right. And, because of course I couldn't bear her legitimate children, I would never follow a concubine's sole path to power of becoming mother to an heir. The spectacle had minimal political consequence for the Empire.

But for me, standing in my shining satin one-piece dress, laden with jewellery of the Imperial Treasure picked to show off my hair to greatest effect, gloved hands clutching a bouquet symbolizing fertility that would never be at the empress' service, it was the most consequential day.

My special day, and the beginning of the end.

-Mission's End-

Wedding Night

I enjoyed the ceremony; I was mostly able to put murder out of my mind and pretend to myself that I would be able to honour my new vows, and indeed I wished to do so to my utmost until I had to honour the other. The other courtesans had prepared me well; I could dance, I could make measured little witticisms here and there, and avoid offending anyone. And most of all, I could please the empress by presenting myself at my best. I might not be the highest ranked courtesan, or the most distinguished, but I was by some measures the most sexually alluring and exotic, fit for an empress' collection.

And then came our wedding night, and despite all my training, I became so, so anxious. Everything had to be perfect; I wanted it to be worthy of her. I wanted, against all reason, for it to be worth my eventual betrayal.

Though I was already bargaining with myself. What if I could convince her to free my people as a favor to me? Would she be willing to do that? It seemed against her principles, but maybe, if I was good enough, I would be able to extract that one deviation from her, and we could continue on forever.

"Shh, it's okay," she whispered in my ear as I stood next the bed, waiting for her unwrap me. By its construction and because of the gloves that were part of it, the dress didn't allow removal by its wearer. Usually a dresser would do so, but on wedding night a groom attended to his bride. Sometimes he cut it from her, and other times he removed it the normal way.

My wife the Empress did neither, instead kneeling in front of me to grasp the hems of my skirts for a moment, then my ankles. From there she ran her hands thrillingly up my stockings over my bare hips to my waist, where she hooked her fingers into the band of my suspenders. Although she gave my generous bum a squeeze, she didn't remove the suspenders as I expected. Instead she continued running her hands up my body, in the process lifting my skirts up around me.

"The seam is on the back," I said with nervous laughter. The way the dress used the shoulders to support my bust impaired my arms' range of motion, and with her hands having wrapped my skirt around my torso, I'd be completely unable to use my hands. I was fairly adept with my tongue alone, but I wanted every tool at my disposal to make it a memorable first night for her, and I definitely didn't want Her Imperial Majesty going down on me first. It felt wrong.

"I know," she told me, and pushed me backward onto the marriage bed, still wrapped in my skirts but with my bare buttocks on the bed and my glistening vagina exposed.

"Please, Empress, let me please you first," I begged.

"Oh, don't you worry, my bride, my lady, my sweet," she said in a husky voice, "You will please me. I hope I will please you, too."

"Of course you will, Empress!" I insisted, my heart breaking a little to think she might be uncertain of me.

"I'm so sorry, but I must be sure of it," she said apologetically, climbing atop me until she straddled me under her own, less voluminous skirts. She was heavy and further trapped my hands at my side, but her weight was not unpleasant. I just didn't understand what she was doing.

"Of course. What should I do?" I asked in confusion.

"Ah, here it is," she said, and plucked my amulet from behind the tight choker necklace that hid it. She weighed it in her fingers and added an affectionate, "My beautiful northern knight."

In an instant, everything that mattered to me was collapsing at once. She knew. She had known. She was sitting on me so that I couldn't assassinate her. She probably thought it was all a lie.

"I love you!" I cried hysterically.

"Shh, shh, I know," she said, putting one manicured finger over my plump trembling lips. "But you still have a sacred duty to your people, do you not? Well, I must free you of it."

"What? How?" I asked, watching her fingers rub my amulet.

"The impossible cannot be a duty, my sweet, nor in honour can you tasked with suicide. That is part of your norther religion, is it not?"

I nodded wordlessly, wondering what terrible vengeance she would take on me.

"So, I'm just going to exhaust your amulet, sweet. My amulet, as you are mine."

Despite everything, something inside me tightened in happiness to hear her describe me as hers.

"The spell in it seems to still be keyed to me," she muttered thoughtfully, "Well, that clears my conscience a little, though I would be lying if I said I wasn't excited. And you know, this means you're free to give up that hopeless quest. You should further know that if you'd killed me, it would eventually have been traced back to your kinsfolk, and even my enemies would still feel compelled to take terrible vengeance on your people, eventually. As much as my rivals hate me, a barbarian kingdom cannot be allowed to get away with such outrages against the Empire. It was always a foolish, self-defeating plan, from a foolish, self-defeating king, and you're well rid of him."

While she spoke, my body changed, becoming steadily more exaggerated. I could feel my buttocks deepening and spreading further apart on the bed, my waist cinching in just a tiny bit more, a strange stretching feeling deep behind my navel, my hands becoming more delicate and my shoulders narrowing. My lips tingled and felt tight, and I could literally see my eyelashes thickening, much like my hair, which was collecting in coppery curls around my head as it added months of growth in seconds.

But the greatest change was obviously on my chest. By becoming slimmer and more delicate, my torso had left more space in the chest of my dress, into which my swelling breasts expanded, and overflowed, until they dragged my thickening nipples out of the cupping fabric and waved them in my view so I could see just how huge they'd become, like the tips of two broom handles.

"Stunning!" she said in awe, encircling each with thumb and forefinger.

I gasped and shuddered at the sensation. For a moment, all thoughts were wiped from my mind beyond my need. "Please!" I begged.

"Please what?" she asked.

"Let me..." I wasn't even sure what to ask for.

"Yes, I will," she agreed, and rolled off me.

I shrugged easily out of my dress easily now, down to my waist, which was loose enough for me to reach the pick thread and start freeing myself. I could feel that my arms were far daintier and feminine than they had been, all vestiges of my military strength gone forever, and so murder made that much more difficult. Not that I saw any point in it now. For all knew, the king was already dead himself, along with anyone else involved in the plot. Even if not, no one could expect me to accomplish my mission now, could they? That was the point of this body; to lift that awful duty from me.

And to please my empress. My wife. I was almost ashamed of how relieved and excited I was by my new body, and its inability to harm the person I loved most.

"Don't worry, I made sure you could take this without pain," Her Imperial Majesty assured me.

I had to lift my head up and separate my mountainous breasts to see what she was talking about, which was a huge cock jutting from between her legs. It was frighteningly large, but also smooth, perfectly proportioned and completely hairless. Despite being freakish, nearly as long as my forearm and bigger around, it also looked familiar, and delicious, more like something I'd dreamt about than a real appendage.

"It couldn't possibly fit," I said, feeling more disappointment than anything else.

"Yes it could. The amulet made sure we're perfectly matched."

"How?"

"I'm a witch, as I hope is obvious by now, and I was able to copy a little of your spell, sweet. Just like your amulet makes you my dream girl, this ring gives me your dream cock. We are like lock and key."

"You did that for me?" I asked, awed that she would change herself for my sake.

"Well, and for the Empire," she said with a smile. "I can't let the ancient Golianis dynasty die with me. The civil wars would never end without a first family to hold it fast."

I stared at the beautiful, terrifying thing as she wiggled it into me bit by bit. "But what about... infighting... in the..."

I was unable to continue my critique of her dynastic ambitions because all I could think about was the feeling of her slowly fucking me with her magic dick while she used my nipples like handholds.

"I wonder if it feels this good for ordinary grooms?" she asked rhetorically, then shook her head. "Of course it couldn't, because never has there been such an extraordinary bride. Are you uncomfortable, my sweet knight?"

"No!" I gasped, knowing that I was making a rictus face. "Maybe a little stretched, but... Gods, it's..." I keened as the build toward a massive orgasm overwhelmed me.

She stopped in concern. "Sweet?"

"Please, keep going, Empress! Please!"

Her worry melted into amusement and she chuckled. "Very well, sweet, I'll do just as you ask. Tell me, how does this feel?" She pulled one of my oversized nipples to her and sucked it firmly into her mouth. Then she twisted her head ever so slightly.

"Hnnnnnnnnnnnng!" I wailed, and spasmed with climax around her fleshy imperial scepter.

"Oh!" she said with surprise, because the clenching of my vaginal muscles had squeezed an orgasm from her. I could see her eyelids flutter irregularly as she flooded my womb with the future of Golianis.

"Oh no, did I go too fast? I should have gone slower, so you could properly enjoy it," I apologized.

"Sweet, can you doubt I enjoyed it?" she said, laughing. "Though I fear this male part is spent for now."

"Do you... still have other parts?" I asked tentatively as she slowly pulled out of me.

"I do, but perhaps we can use this interlude to present the bedded bride," she suggested, referring to the traditional demonstration that my "virginity" had been taken, thus safeguarding the legitimacy of children I bore for her. I had not remotely expected it to be a part of our wedding night, and would have begged to avoid it, had it been mentioned to me ahead of time. Now that I knew I could bear her children after all, it suddenly occurred to me that this would be a stunning moment of triumph. Not only was I Her Imperial Majesty's first concubine, it would announce to the world that I was likely to be mother of the heir after all.

It was the sort of feminine ambition I'd never thought to have, of course, but now that it was, against all reasonable expectation, mine to seize, I found myself swelling with triumph.

And then doubt. "Did I bleed?" I asked cautiously, "I didn't feel any pain."

"Making your wedding night painful formed no part of my desires for you," she said with a smile, and fetched from a hidden pocket of her dress a miniature dagger. To my relief, she didn't propose nicking me to create a wound. Instead she drew from the knife's hilt a tiny glass vial containing something dark red. She rubbed the vial in her hands with an intent expression, saying, "I apologize, but I had to collect and freeze some of your menstrual blood for my own magic. But, it will be useful now." She held it up to the light as she tilted the vial. "Yes, that should be warm enough." As I watched, the blood inside disappeared just as I felt a tiny pop in my vagina. "There, now it's back inside you, and should be very convincing."

"Thank you," I said, unsettled but genuinely grateful. "I guess I'm ready, then."

It was a very strange experience having to stand naked alongside my new spouse for the inspection of five matrons of varying age. Her Imperial Majesty had cast off her male part for the moment, though surely they had to know of its existence, or what was the point of the presentation? That meant the matrons were inspecting what looked for all the world like two normal women, and, except for my somewhat reddened vulva, there was no real evidence of what had just occurred.

"You can relax," the lead matron instructed me.

"I am relaxed," I lied.

"She means relax your muscles," another matron said, pointing at my crotch.

I looked at Her Imperial Majesty, who nodded, and I let go.

Five pairs of eyes widened as a deluge of imperial cum gushed from my womb, dousing my legs and puddling on the polished flagstone floor. Unable to resist, I checked to see if there was blood in it. Yes, a little. Enough.

The matrons looked at each other and at Her Imperial Majesty, but of course, none of them could withstand Her gaze. "Very well done!" the lead matron announced, and they left in a hurry.

My wife shook with laughter after they fled, and hugged me tightly in her arms. "Oh, my little sweet. My little northern knight. You've done so well."

"Perhaps so," I said once she released me from a commanding, airless kiss, "But I'm not done doing well. Your prick has been a nice surprise, but I've been dreaming of your cunt for months. Surely you wouldn't deny me a taste?"

"No, not at all!" she said, and this time I pushed her down. Maybe she let me, and maybe the weight of my breasts helped, but either way she fell back on the bed, and I got my turn atop my empress wife.

It took a bit of doing to maneuver my enormous breasts and her powerful thighs into a configuration that allowed comfortable access, but finally I was able to dip my tongue into her, sliding up to where her surprisingly dainty clit hid.

"Try to go deeper," she suggested.

"Of course," I said, my professional pride as a courtesan piqued, "I'm just getting a lay of the land, so to speak."

"I mean that you should see how far your tongue can stretch now," she clarified.

"Did you make changes there?"

"I hope you don't mind," she said, sounding a little guilty.

"No, of course not!" I said, a little startled to discover that I truly did not mind. "Thank you for making me perfect for you. I've never been perfect for anyone before. And being perfect for the woman I love, Her Imperial Majesty? What could be better?"

"Being perfect for you. Do you miss the power of being a knight?"

"What is perfect for me is you, Empress. And the power of being your wife is thousand times better than the power of being a knight. Now kindly hold your questions and let me demonstrate my power."

Her Imperial Majesty chuckled, but I made her produce very different sounds once I began the demonstration in earnest.

Ten Years Later

When the late king's wizard became the empress' captive, she compelled him to teach her how to summon similar changes for anyone, including reversing mine, but I every time I saw the empress' majestic cock get hard, I knew I never wanted to go back. Maybe remove a few stretch marks here and there, but otherwise I was blissfully happy in my role.

Which wasn't always as Her Imperial Majesty's wife; naturally statecraft eventually dictated that she take a king's daughter as first wife, thereby relegating me to concubinage, but I didn't mind. She had named Her daughter with me as the imperial heir. Moreover, I presided over Her harem, selecting the best, most loyal and clever concubines, and fashioning them to Her taste using amulets enchanted by my mistress' magic. An "empress' concubine" became a byword for a paragon of loyalty and bountiful fecundity, an ideal for all to aspire to.

And someday, when they are old enough, Her Imperial Majesty will choose one of my beautiful daughters to become the new queen of my independent people.