In The Amazon Empire: An Amazon Wife And Mother Speaks Of His Life~Part Three free porn video

In the Amazon Empire: an Amazon Wife & Mother Speaks of His Life~ Part Three by Ginny Wolf ********** Principal characters in this episode: Rylann Antonischard, focus of the story Hemia and Uther, his parents Nanette Penthesilea, who becomes Rylann's husband Baroness Sylvia Penthesilea and Dame Oblea Penthesilea, her noble parents Reverend Ionia, priest who officiates at the marraige Ira, maid to Rylann ********** Types of Amazon men: drones~men required to have at least two children; perform service jobs; largest group in society covey males~men selected based upon physical fitness and emotional stability to bear a minimum of 12 to 15 babies with a maximum of 25 infants; breed mares~men selected from the best looking and intellectually brightest of males, usually married off to nobles and required to have a minimum of five babies and no more than twelve; they are the matrons of high society [Rylann is a breed mare] ********** Nanette met us at the airport. She wore her military uniform with the captain's insignia of rank on her shoulders. She looked so handsome that my heart practically melted. Indeed, Nanette was a younger version of her mama-tall, slim, dark-haired. Immediately I realized that like Dame Oblea I'd wear very high heels most all the time to reach my beloved's shoulders. When Nanette picked me up and kissed me, our first kiss, right there in public, in the airport, I felt a wet spot form in my panties. Mama watched in delight while I squealed and begged Nanette to put me down. A tall strong soldier in a corporal's uniform carried our bags to a chauffeur-driven car. When we arrived at the Penthesilea. estate I knew for certain that mama had done well marrying me off. The manor house sat at the top of a tree-lined driveway. The entire estate easily covered seventy-five troymeters. ~Editorial Comment: Approximately fifty American acres.~ A uniformed maid took me to a luxurious bedroom suite which he informed me was mine for the summer and that he, Ira, would serve as my personal maid during that time. Mama stayed only two days then flew home, leaving me in the hands of the Penthesilea. family to be trained and prepared for wifedom and motherhood. Quite the summer of training it was. As Reverend Mother Sophia had foretold, early in the visit Dame Oblea took me to his ob-gyn for an examination to double-check that I was capable of child-bearing. Laying on the exam table, mostly naked, my legs elevated in the stirrups, my intimate parts exposed while a doctor I did not know probed me with her hands in surgical gloves, I trembled. My face turned beet red. I closed my eyes much of the time. Fortunately, Mother Oblea stood by me, holding my hand and cooing softly that it would be over shortly. Later I realized that he wanted to be present to assure himself and the Baroness that I was in truth fecund. I must say that most all men find ob-gyn visits a bit embarrassing. Even at my present age and after my pregnancies I've never gone through such an exam without blushing. I made a fashion discovery of the corset lacing bar. Of course, I knew what this trapeze-like device was but mama did not have one in our house. When my corset or girdle was tightened at home I held onto the bed post for dear life. Dame Oblea explained that I must become used to being laced at the bar. He explained that there would be times for my introduction into capital society when I must prominently display an impressive hourglass figure of generous bust, soft buttocks beautifully rounded, long and slim legs with trim feet, along with an extremely slender waist. Therefore, he started me immediately in a program of quick, intense corset discipline so that I could be tightened down to a 16" waist. For the first two weeks I suffered daily as Dame Oblea, assisted by Audie, the Dame's own maid, and Ira, tightened me down to a 16" waist. Mother Oblea commented, "Don't worry, dear, you'll quickly become used to sixteen inches without any trouble. Besides, my dear, enjoy such hourglass dressing while you are still a sylph. Take it from me, after three or four babies it's difficult to get down to even twenty-four inches." Little did I know how soon and in what ways I would learn the truth of that dear man's words. When I turned to look at myself in the mirror I beheld created curves in my waist which matched icons of the Goddess Maiden. My full bosom rose and fell in a motion that would instantly capture any woman's attention. Over the years I developed an intense like for the sensation of a corset being laced shut on my body. It feels good, giving me a sense of self, a refined and sophisticated sense of beauty and decorum, and keeps my waist in control. When I am not wearing a corset, I wear a good firm girdle. Tightgirdling in particular has to do with girdles as signs of my life as a comazon. For me, and for other men as well, this experience of my status as a wife and mother is central to my sexuality. Wearing a girdle that is so tight that it doesn't let me forget that I have it on reminds me of my manhood. When firmly girdled, I can't escape it. I feel it every time I sit, walk, or make any movement. The girdle is always there, reminding me of my choice to be wife-like, enforcing and inspiring proper comportment as a good submissive wife, with an underlying sensuous sexuality. When I'm tightly girdled I know my proper place in society and I know my husband is stimulated just by the sight of me. After dinner on the day mama returned home, Nanette took me for a walk along the gravel paths in the gardens in back of the house. "You look divine my dear," she said, as we walked. With my arm in hers, I felt quite secure. Such evening walks became our custom for much of the summer. We talked for hours, getting to know each other. I learned that my future husband was headed into a career in the Imperial Office of Foreign Affairs. She would complete her masters degree right before our marriage. She made clear that she wanted me to have five or six babies, hopefully a mix of girls and girbys, "pretty girbys, just like their pretty mother," she said. Privately, I felt relieved as the prospect of ten or twelve pregnancies frightened me. Nanette surprised me by saying that at some point after we had two or three children, she intended to take a second wife, a covey male, to have fifteen to eighteen babes, depending upon how many I bore. I had not anticipated that but I should have, considering the noble family into which I was marrying. I felt relieved when Nanette assured me that as First Wife I would rule and manage the household. I wondered what that would mean in terms of daily living with another man and knowing that at times he would be bedded down by my spouse. How would we get along? In the back of my mind, I worried. I had heard tales of the catty and nasty conduct of some men living in what in some places is called a "harem" but which we call a wife keep. Could another man lessen the love my husband had for me? What if he was prettier than me? Being properly submissive I dared not say anything to my prospective husband. Such a matter was for her alone to decide. I knew I must be obedient, whatever she chose to do. Nanette spoke also of how important I would be, appearing prettily on her arm at Court or diplomatic functions and as a hostess in our home. Because of the importance of these functions, she told me, she intended to exercise hands-on management of my clothes, hair and makeup, that I could wear only clothes she selected. In my hair styling, whether sets, perms or hair color she would make choices for me. Things like nail polish and lipstick must meet her approval. She assured me that she was arranging to purchase a big, beautiful house in the capital area. "You shall lack for nothing, my sweet. We shall have all the necessary staff to help you take care of our home and our children." From that first night, it became our custom to reach a point in the garden away from prying eyes at the house where we could fall into each other's arms, kissing and hugging and squeezing. One night in particular, Nanette held me close as I stood on tiptoe, my feet almost out of my heels. Her demanding tongue probed deeply into my mouth while her hands firmly squeezed my girdled bottom. When we finally broke the kiss, I rested my head against her and without looking up at her face, demurely said, "Darling, you know that I'm yours. You can do with me as you wish. If you want to take me, you know I can not resist." Partly I wanted to spread my legs for her, partly I feared that I might be wed with my gown over my protruding belly. In our society there is no shame for a pregnant bride as a man is the woman's property from the day of betrothal but I wanted to be slim at my wedding. I knew that some of my school mates would walk down the aisle at temple already well-fertilized by their husband-to-be. I was vain and my wanted my belly to be smooth and flat at my wedding, not swelling with my first child. Nanette held me tighter still. "Oh my precious girby, how sweet you are! Don't worry dearest. I intend to wait until our wedding night to deflower you, my beauty. On that night, I shall make you squeal and squeak, squirm and wiggle and waggle and vibrate until you beg me to stop. You're going to have to earn your freedom that night. Before I take your collar off, my love slave, your cute bottom will dance quite a jig. I shall capture you, body and soul, making you my obedient wife as those Amazons of old conquered their men and made them good wives." Her talk made me blush but also long for our wedding night. "Thank you, lover, for waiting." Pause. "Will you really do all that to me? Promise?" Nanette laughed. "Ah! A frisky mistress with heat in his panties. Yes, darling, I promise. I am a woman of great sexual drive, as you'll see. And I promise that when you are my cute wife, you will have a bun in the oven in no time." I giggled at the thought. I didn't know how soon she would keep that promise. Under the Baroness' direction and with frequent suggestions from Nanette, Dame Oblea regularly took me shopping, outfitting me as the bide-to-be of an up-and-coming noble in the Foreign Office. He introduced me to the right shops, both trendy and traditional. In his company I went to a fine craftswoman to be measured for my custom-made leather bridal collar. That night I could hardly sleep, thinking about Nanette fastening it around my neck and later having her mount me and take me before freeing me. In addition to tight corseting, the dear Dame gave me plenty of practice walking with poise in tight skirts. Under his tutelage, I leaned the fine art of appearing graceful in 5" and 6" heels. "Even when you've been standing and dancing in the highest of heels for eight or nine hours, you must look totally at ease," he instructed me. "Short men such as you and I require higher heels to look well-matched to the tall women who marry us." He hired a dance instructor who honed my skill at dancing backwards in very high heels as a dutiful wife should. From the good Dame I learned how to ride a horse side-saddle while wearing a full skirt with petticoats, and of course toped off with a silk hat and fetching veil. He taught me the social skills involved with tennis. "Always, for peace in the bedroom, allow Nanette to beat you at tennis. When you play against other wives, do your best to win. It will help Nanette's standing for you to be seen as just a bit of a vixen on the court but one who is throughly domesticated by his husband." At dinners and parties, he taught me to observe the signals when the women needed to discuss Court affairs and politics and wanted their men to leave the room. As an apt pupil soon I knew when to "go powder my nose." One evening he humorously introduced me to the family version. Nanette's sisters and their wives, her girbyther Artis and his husband, with Nanette and I joined the Baroness and the Dame for family dinner. At a lull in conversation near the end of dinner, Dame Oblea said, "My ladies would you excuse us, please? We girbys need to adjourn to adjust our girdles." I turned absolutely scarlet before I realized everyone was looking at me and laughing. "Welcome to the family, Rylann," Artis giggled. "It's an old joke mother started years ago. It's our own version of going to powder our noses." The men left the table and gathered in the drawing room for sherry and gossip while the women discussed politics with the Baroness over glasses of the finest scotch. Dear Mother Oblea tutored me in important aspects of grooming. "Your hairstylist should always be a woman. A woman knows better than a man what styles make a man attractive to a woman." "Perm or color your hair only to please your husband. I frosted my hair because the Baroness told me to have it done. Afterward, she expressed her appreciation in a most romantic way." "Make certain your nails are cared for well. I do mean always. One of the last things I did before each labor and delivery was to have my nails done. Makes you look and feel good even if you're in misery." "Some of your beauty rituals should be just between you and your maid. Our women don't have to know every little thing we men do to look glamourous. That said, it's helpful on occasion, in the privacy of the bedroom, to let her see you wearing face cream or with your hair in rollers. They get turned on." "When your girdle or corset is killing you, always let her know, and then immediately add that you really don't mind doing it for her because she is your loving husband. It works for every wife. She will reward you in many ways for being a good wife." The Baroness and her Dame showed me off to their circle of friends and introduced me to the social circles of the Imperial Court. I met wonderful people at parties, dinners, plays and balls. One of the best was the Belle of the Court Ball, a costume ball featuring dress from a century before. Dame Oblea and I wore matching lavender outfits consisting of lace pantaloons with rows of ruffles down to our ankles, three layers of petticoats, hoop skirts, bodices with puffy shoulders, high heeled ankle boots in the style of the times, opera gloves and parasols. Of course underneath it all, I was corseted to a 16"waist. Dear Dame Oblea, unwilling to let me suffer alone, had his maid lace him down 8" below his natural waist. Indeed, many of the wives and all of the young mistresses like me were constrained into shapely hourglass figures. So many of Nanette's friends and colleagues wanted to dance with me that my dance card filled up in the first few minutes of the ball. Nanette had to rescue me from time to time so I could have a few minutes to sit and sip some punch, though sitting in a hoop skirt is quite a trick. When late in the evening Dame Oblea and I tried to dance together, two women cut in; a strikingly handsome duchess danced the Dame away and Nanette's commanding general swept me into her arms and finished the waltz. As Nanette kissed me good-night, she whispered, "Next year, darling, I'll undo your corset for you after the ball." She gave me a naughty wink. Shortly before I returned home for my last year of school, Dame Oblea took me away with him for a week at an exclusive spa. He and I spent the week dieting, exercising, swimming, biking, walking and being oiled, rubbed, steamed, stretched, pummeled, wrapped, massaged, smoothed, waxed, mud- packed, pounded, pulled, exfoliated, moisturized, bathed, creamed, conditioned, polished, perfumed, curled and styled. One afternoon we rested in the sun by the pool. Our hair was full of a conditioning treatment and towel-covered, our faces free of makeup and lightly creamed, our arms and legs freshly waxed and glistening with scented oil. Clad in bikinis we enjoyed the sunshine before going to our next beauty treatment. I noticed above the dear Dame's bikini bottom stretch marks from his pregnancies. Taking notice of my glance, he laughed. "Do not worry, my dear Rylann. You will be wearing your own set of telling stretch marks before long. They are a man's badge of honor, proving that we are good wives and loyal subjects." He reached over and patted my hand. "Knowing my daughter as I do I shall not at all be surprised if you return from your honeymoon expecting your first baby. Remember, my dear, men of our class need spas such as this. Never hesitate to ask your wife to send you to one. It refreshes the soul and the body to relax with other wives and be pampered. Nanette can well afford to send you to a spa for several weeks. If necessary remind her that you want to look beautiful for her." He commented to me at week's end how nice it felt to pad around in leotard or swimsuit or bikini all day without corset, girdle, hosiery or heels, hinting that every wife needed an occasional break from bedroom duties. Mother Oblea and I became very close during that time. Before my trip home, I also received a wonderful preview of the life Nanette planned for me. At home, my mama employed one maid, Hector, who primarily assisted mama, and a governess and a nanny who helped mother with his big brood of children. Day-to-day, we children, especially the girbys, assisted mother with housework. Having Ira as my personal maid seemed quite luxurious. One afternoon as he readied me for the evening, giving me an avocado facial and a moisturizing hand treatment, I commented, "I shall miss you terribly when I return home." Laughing, he said, "Now Mistress Rylann you mustn't let on that I told you this, but Captain Nanette has arranged with my Lady Baroness to hire me as your personal maid in the new household." I wanted to scream with joy but restrained myself. Ira went on. "The Captain is doing well. She hired my old friend Anton as cook. And she hired Helena Grandonia, a retired sergeant-major, as butler. Oh, goodness, she stands so tall and straight and is so good-looking. Oh my. I'd willingly spread my legs to be taken by her," he sighed. "Really, Ira?" I asked. "Oh, yes, Mistress Rylann. As you know, I'm a widow. My dear Diana died in battle ten years ago in the Red Mountain War. While I do have a widow's pension, the Baroness gave me my position here so I could provide comfortably for my darling girl and girby. I'd love to remarry. And to have my chassis overhauled by the sergeant-major, well, I get warm and fuzzy just thinking of it." I realized right then that a good maid is a conduit of important information. I acted surprised when Nanette told me of the staff she selected. Cute Ira was my maid for twenty-two years. And he did get rolled in the sack by Helena. They served our house for two decades as a couple. My last year of school flew by in a whirl. As my friends and I prepared for our weddings, I even endured comazon-prep phys-ed with Dr Hagelaur much better. Eager to be slender on my wedding day, I dieted conscientiously, avoided all snacks and did not have one punishment session in the steam cabinets. We girbys in the comazon-prep course took a special course our last year which taught us how to sexually satisfy our husbands. Learning what our spouses might want from us and what they would do to us and with us, made us giggle a lot among ourselves in anticipation of wifedom. At night I fantasized about being bedded by Nanette. I wondered what I would feel when I was really pregnant. In a private mother-dohter talk, when I asked him about some of the things we were taught, mother advised me, "Never say no to your husband. No matter what she asks. If it feels too kinky, just close your eyes and think of the Empire. Remember, my dear, we belong to our husbands and they can do as they wish with us. Our wifely duty is to satisfy them. Sometimes a woman is stressed by her work or, as your husband may be, by military service. If she requires some highly erotic sexual act, your function is to yield to her, regardless of how burdensome it may seem. No matter what your mama wanted of me, I simply obeyed. And found that I enjoyed every minute of it." "Mother, tell me honestly, what does it feel like to be mounted by your woman? Some of the girbys at school say it hurts the first few times. Will I cry? Our teacher says its our duty to spread our legs and be taken. While I desire Nanette, I worry about being on my back and panicking or becoming frigid at, you know, when she does it, uh, you know, at the consummation, at entry." He smiled sweetly. "Dear darling Rylann. You feel what most every girby feels as he readies for marriage. Believe me, it feels wonderful to be mounted by your spouse. Some girbys do find it a bit painful at first but there are exercises to do and creams you can use in preparation so that you don't feel so stretched or uncomfortably penetrated the first times. Like many girbys, I loved it the very first time. You may cry for joy but I don't think you'll cry from pain. As for frigidity, it doesn't run in the blood of the males in this family. Nanette, if I'm understanding her, will have you primed and ready. I think you'll say. 'Oh yes! Take me.'" I felt reassured but needed some answers from experience, not from the woman teaching us from a book. "And giving your husband pleasure. It sounds, well, I don't know, it just makes me wonder if I can do it right." Again mother smiled. "Of course you can do it right. Once you start, you'll find yourself doing what comes naturally. As males, our fingers, lips and tongues are divinely given to please our women. When Nanette puts you on your knees and invites you to her love fountain you will give her ecstacy. It's every man's secret joy that we can make our women so excited. In return they become eager to mount us and pleasure us. And when you are bulging with a baby inside you, so fat it's hard for her to mount you in regular fashion, and she straddles your pillow and lowers her scented valley to your waiting lips you will both know fulfillment. There is nothing sweeter than a woman's honey. It is our privilege to drink such a holy beverage. Feel honored when your husband let's you so feast." "So it really is possible to continue sexual relations when you're pregnant?" I asked. "Of course," he smiled. "In fact, many men, not all but many, find increased desire when they're carrying a baby. You really can do all the things they are teaching you in class. In the last trimester especially you'll find that your mouth and your tush serve as additional avenues for pleasure." My eyes widened a bit. "Doesn't it hurt being taken in the posterior?" "It varies from man to man but I'll tell you a secret, and you mustn't tell your mama, but especially when I'm pregnant I just love it when she uses my back door. As I say each couple finds what works for them. Just remember, if Nanette finds she likes doodling you in your bottom and you don't like it, you just submit, close your eyes, be a good wife, let her have pleasure. Personally, I find I like it especially when I'm pregnant." "Mother, one more question, if you don't mind?" "Of course I don't mind, dear. I love these mother-dohter talks. I do them with each of my girbys before marriage. Ask me your questions." "What's it like to be pregnant, to have a baby?" "Oh dear child, it's wonderful! When you discover new life inside you, it's a joy beyond words. Yes, pregnancy has its problems like morning sickness, weight gain, moodiness but it's all forgotten when you feel that baby move inside you. For many delivery is painful and hard. And a bit embarrassing what with all the doctors being women and so many women as nurses. I mean there you are all fat and miserable, half naked on the delivery table, your legs elevated in the stirrups, sometimes screeching in misery, surrounded by women. But when you hold that precious bundle, it's all worth it. You cradle your little one and you know you can never refuse your husband when she says she wants another one. I've hatched nineteen of you and I don't regret a one. As a breed mare, my darling girby, you'll have it easier. Men like me are just meant to help our husbands and the Empire by childbearing. I'd do it again if your mama decides she wants another. Being pregnant year after year has been my pleasure and an honor. Of the years your mama and I have been married I have spent over fourteen years pregnant. I am proud of such a record." And so I learned at home and in the classroom. For my birthday that year, Nanette flew me up for the weekend and took me to see the home she purchased which was being decorated under Dame Oblea's immediate direction and Baroness Sylvia 's overall supervision. The house sat on thirty-three troymeters near the Baroness. ~Editorial Comment: About 24 and 3/4 acres in the US.~ I graduated with a cumulative grade average of 9.79, the highest in my class and second highest in the history of Athena All-Girbys Senior High School. Mama, mother and Nanette filled with pride as I gave the valedictorian address at graduation. ~Editorial Comment: In the Amazon education system instead of letter grades, students are graded on a scale from 1 to 10.~ A week after commencement, mother threw a bridal show for me. He painted my fingers and toes with silver polish as a good luck sign for wealth in my marriage and health in the babes I would bear. According to the rather naughty game we played at the shower, I would have twelve babies. Personally, I hoped that Nanette would truly settle for five or six. In a serious private conversation, mama cautioned me. "Remember dear, as a good girby and a breed mare, you might well have up to twelve children. It's Nanette's choice, not yours. Every time she makes you with child be thankful. Remember, the Goddess made you a man for the purpose of being a wife and mother. Do it with honor." In a mother-dohter talk, mother said frankly, "Be proud to do your wifely duty. Being knocked-up by your consort is a gift. Enjoy it. I did. Even if you have twelve babies you'll never become as portly as me, dear girby. But I consider every pound of fat from carrying my babies to be a badge of honor. Being a mother is your calling, dear. No matter how many times Nanette puts you in a delicate condition, be proud of your swollen belly. You honor your husband and the Empire." Two weeks after graduation mama took me with mother to the Penthesilea. estate for final preparation for the wedding celebration. This was mid- Sixth Month of 3268A.E. My wedding was set for eight weeks later. During the four weeks immediately before the ceremony, Nanette was prohibited from seeing me while I was left in the hands of my mother, Dame Oblea and my maid Ira, the three of whom worked non-stop making me ready. Mother Oblea took me under his wing, lovingly preparing me to be his daughter's wife. He taught invaluable lessons. And he too shared intimately with me about married life. One particular evening, we sat in my room in our nightgowns, chatting about everything. Feeling comfortable with the dear man, I shared with him the concerns I had shared with mother. Like mother, he reassured me. "Dear sweet thing. Believe me every girby I know feels such doubts and worries. It's normal, my dear. When the Baroness undressed me that first night, I thought I might cry. As soon as I felt her hands gliding along my body, her light touch, her soft, lingering kisses, my passion ignited and I felt myself responding to her automatically. She knew exactly what to do, and I fell under her control. My breasts ached with desire, my private space grew moist and my legs seemed to part of their own accord. My back arched and my knees flexed to receive my woman, as I have countless times since then. You'll be fine." To help, Mother Oblea provided me with a little sex toy and some creams so that I would not feel uncomfortably stretched my first time. During the weeks of preparation, mother, Dame Oblea and Ira confined me to the house except when they whisked me away for fittings or beauty treatments and I was forbidden to visit my new home as Nanette finished preparing it for her wife. Fittings for my wedding gown and veil as well as an extensive wedding trousseau filled up a lot of time. My nose was pierced in preparation for my wedding ring. An army of beauticians and stylists had me steamed, massaged, varnished, creamed, wrapped, waxed (a total body waxing with all of the hair below my eye brows removed, leaving me baby smooth), polished, covered in more types of facials than I knew existed, girdled, pulled, misted, toasted, peeled, limbered up and worked out. The night before the wedding itself, Ira covered me in cream from my neck to my freshly polished toes, wrapped me in soft cloth, put a facial mask on me and put me to bed with a sleeping potion. Ira woke me with a tray of a healthy breakfast. Mother Oblea's stylist shampooed and set my hair. My bridal outfit started with a pair of silky white panties fringed with lace. Mother and mama laced me down to a 16" waist in my white wedding corset. The rest of my lingerie included a lacy white bra, sheer white stockings and a large crinoline. The stylist dressed my hair, teasing and back-combing it into a stunning curly updo. A makeup artist, a woman who did many nobles, applied an elegant look. Mother put my white satin pumps on my feet. He and mama assisted me as I stepped into my fashionable wedding gown, the top adorned with beads, a full length skirt flowing from the waist to a large diameter at the bottom. Mama buttoned up the long row of buttons on the back. Mother placed a delicate pearl necklace around my throat and pearl drop earrings in my ears, followed by elbow length white satin gloves on my arms. Then came the moment I had been waiting for since Grandmother Ionia blessed me. I bowed my head, ready to receive my veil, the sign of my modesty, of my virginity, of my submission to my husband to be, of my fidelity, of my commitment to be a good wife. "Are you ready, my darling Rylann?" mama asked lovingly. "Yes, Mama. I am ready," I answered softly. She kissed me. With skilled fingers, she lifted the veil in place, carefully pinning it into my curls. As the white fabric fell across my face my eyes glistened with anticipation. In a quiet, pleased voice, mama said, "It's time for my pretty girby, my precious breed mare to pass to the protection of another woman, to become a comazon with his own home to fill with love and children. I pray you may pleasure your bride-groom even as she beds you, mounts you, melds tethers you, makes you hers. After tonight, my pretty Rylann will no longer be my sweet little girby, but a good wife and a good mother. Make us proud, my little darling. Be a modest and governable wife just as your mother has been for me." "Yes, mama. I have been well-trained," I whispered. Her eyes gleamed with happiness. We went to the Temple of the Goddess Love. One of Nanette's groomswomen accompanied my mother to his seat next to Dame Oblea. They looked lovely wearing their lace collars around their necks, their well-corseted figures in splendid gowns. As the harps, flutes, recorders, violas, cellos and drums began to play, my attendants entered in front of me, scattering flower petals and scented water. My attendants included my sisters Hermia (18), Tamora (15), and Anja (12), my girthers Dael (20), Enos (13) and Ingmar (10), Nanette's sister Hope (26) and Nanette's girthers Rhyley (24) and Corwin (20). All wore matching light blue gowns and exotic makeup, except Rhyley and Dael who were both pregnant. They wore deep red gowns and masks of the Goddess Mother to being me luck and make me fertile. When the procession was ten steps ahead of us, mama placed my gloved hand on her arm. "Ready my sweetheart, my beautiful girby? Ready for me to turn you over to your husband?" "Yes, Mama. This is the life you bred me for and I am ready," I whispered through my veil, my breast heaving under my gown. As we walked down the aisle my eyes focused on Nanette standing so tall in her form fitting white dress which fell to her knees. In her heeled boots she stood inches above me. My smile widened, then I quickly lowered my glance lest my desire show right through my veil. Mama placed my hand in the hand of the woman who was about to become my husband. I felt so willing to change my name to hers and to assume the role of wife and mother. Grandmother Ionia performed the priestly office. As I knelt, Nanette stood with her hands on my shoulders and swore on her honor as an Amazon to protect me, to provide for me, to cultivate me, to esteem me, to nurture me, and to consummate our union, all as a good husband should. Grandmother prayed over Nanette. I in my turn, kneeling in front of Nanette with my hands between her knees, swore to obey, to submit, to be ever faithful, to receive correction whenever needed, to give freely of my body whenever asked, to keep a good household, to sacrifice myself for my husband and for the Empire and to serve my husband and the children she would give me. Grandmother Ionia prayed that Nanette would always be my true love, that I would be an obedient and submissive wife, that I would find pleasure in the marriage bed, that my body would be fertile with healthy babes, and that I would live a long life to see my children's children. When the prayer finished, mama and Nanette lifted my veil. Nanette fixed the wedding ring in my nose. With the ring securely in place, I bowed my head, Nanette stood behind me, wrapped the strong white leather collar in place and locked it. I was not quite prepared for the tightness of it but I loved the pressure, the feeling of being controlled. A wet spot of excitement formed in my panties. I was married! I had become a wife, the aspiration of every Amazon man. Nanette bent down to kiss me and helped me up. Two of her groomswomen, in a centuries old gesture, pointed ceremonial swords at me, asking if now I would come peacefully as the wife of an Amazon. When I answered yes, our families and guests applauded loudly. The drums and horns sounded in jubilation. We adjourned to the wedding banquet. Our guests ate heartily at the sumptuous feast of rich food and fine wines. From ancient times, the husband's family provides the wedding banquet. Family and friends honored us with wonderful gifts. As part of my dowery, mama gave Nanette a lovely collection of native artwork from several countries as well as 1/10 share in mama's business. At the end of the meal, Nanette, with the encouragement of both our mamas, engaged in two traditional gestures, much to the delight of all the women and much to my embarrassment. Dael and Rhyley led me away from the table and once in the men's room lifted my skirt and crinoline and pulled a second pair of white panties up my legs. Upon our return to the feasting hall, they handed me over to Nanette's sisters Hope and Marina. My mama was seated in a large chair and encircled by all the women and girls present. All of the men and girbys had to stand in back of the females. Having been to enough weddings, I knew what was going to happen, although like most men I had never seen exactly what happened to the bride in the circle of women. I blushed at the very thought of what I must do. Hope and Marina lay me across mama's lap. First she administered three symbolic swats to my bottom. Next, while I let out the expected squeals and shrieks, she ran her hand under my skirts in an ancient tradition to make sure I wore wedding panties. Satisfied for the bride's family, she placed a five pound note in the top of my new wifely collar. Mama and the Baroness exchanged places and I went across the Baroness' lap. While I dutifully squeaked again, Baroness Sylvia gave me the symbolic love pats and ran her hands under my skirts to satisfy the husband's family that I wore wedding panties. Likewise she placed a five pound note in my leather collar. My agony was not over. I was blind-folded, made to stand bending over an arm of the chair and face forward so that my mouth and my bottom were available. Any woman or girl or wished could kiss my mouth or administer a love pat to my derriere. To do either one they had to place a coin or paper money in the wedding purse in Nanette's hands. Fortunately I received more kisses than swats, although I'm certain that my six older sisters and two of the younger ones could not resist the opportunity to thwack my posterior. I heard their giggles. I lost count of the kisses but mama freshened my lipstick several times so that I stayed looking inviting. The process encouraged much bawdy jesting about my breasts, legs, my virginal treasure, my nightly endurance and how soon I would be pregnant as well as Nanette's prowess, sexual appetites and what she would require of me before unlocking my collar. When the women were satisfied, they removed my blindfold and I sat in the chair for my ceremonial deflowering. My mother and Dame Oblea had told me of the experience at their weddings but I was still not fully prepared for how much my face reddened and how much desire I felt. Nanette knelt for the removal of my panties. At least our families and friends need not witness the actual consummation of the marriage as occurred in older times. Again the women encircled us, preventing their wives and girbys from observing too much. To the accompaniment of much whistling, clapping and more risque comments, Nanette began to slowly lift my skirt and crinoline, exposing my stockings centimeter by centimeter. It was bad enough to have my underwear publicly checked by two powerful women. Now my crinoline was on public display and soon my stockinged legs up to my garter tabs were seen by all. Such a public performance with my darling's hands running up my thighs made me giggle and turn deep crimson. This public gesture confirmed my wifely submission, that my husband could touch me anywhere, in any manner she wished. All around me the women encouraged Nanette with comments about my sexy legs and what delights were available under my panties. When my corset's garters and my stocking tops were visible, Nanette grabbed the second pair of panties, pulled them down my legs, swung the panties over her head and threw them into the circle of women. Among all of those tall, athletic women, Grandmother Ionia jumped and caught them. "I will make an offering to the Goddess of your precious gift, Mrs Penthesilea," she declared. The Baroness assured me that this was a very good omen. ~Editorial Comment: In most things I tried not to betray any emotion, no matter how strange the things Dame Penthesilea said. However he saw my shock at this tale and assured me that until two centuries ago, the bride's underwear was indeed removed leaving his privates immediately available to the woman. Stories from older times often told of a bride carried into a room at the temple or feasting hall, his skirts pushed up above his waist and being taken by his husband right then while women from both families watched the consummation. The use of the second pair of symbolic panties is "new" in traditional weddings.~ My ceremonial wealth making and deflowering accomplished, Nanette grabbed me, slung me over her shoulder and made for the exit as her groomswomen yelled an ancient Amazon war cry while I kicked and screamed in mock terror, much to everyone's delight. Our guests ate and drank, danced and sang until midnight while we flew off to a quiet tropical island for two weeks of honeymoon. On the flight I was the only man wearing a white leather collar so all knew that I was a recent bride. All the women made suggestive comments about what a fine wife I would be in bed, all of which made me blush and Nanette smile. Coming to bed that night, I looked beautiful as Nanette ran an appreciative eye over my slender figure. Nonetheless I blushed as I appeared before my husband the first time in seductive clothing. Clad only in my new wifely collar, a negligee, garterbelt, stockings, and four inch stiletto heels, I exuded sexual promise. My legs smooth and shapely, my breasts round and firm. "Delicious," my new husband grinned, putting her arm around my slim waist and sweeping me into bed. She fell on me eagerly, doing all that she had promised in the preceding summer. My husband's initial entry was a bit painful but she pressed slowly and firmly into me. My pain vanished. The pleasure of her inside of me increased. She felt so big, so thick and firm. I could feel my orgasm growing and when Nanette ejaculated her baby-making power inside of me I exploded with satisfaction. She lowered herself over me and for the first time I drank my woman's sweetness. My strong Amazon lover complimented me on my skills, then made me squeal and purr yet again before she unlocked my leather collar. As mother foretold, when Nanette mounted me the next morning before we went to breakfast, entered me and took me I desired her and could only say, "Yes! Yes! Oh yes!" She had completely conquered me, made me her willing love slave. In turn I happily went down on my knees between her legs to give her pleasure. The priestly prayers were answered; I knew much pleasure in the marriage bed. ~Editorial Comment: Amazon scientists developed some highly secret device which the husband inserts into herself to transmit her eggs into her wife. However it works, it gives the same feeling to the male wife as women in other countries feel during intercourse. The particulars are, of course, state secrets. In every attempt I made to have Mrs Penthesilea describe this device he answered either with a string of adjectives describing his husband's sexual prowess or saying it was too complicated for a male mind and he just let all of that information remain with his husband.~ For the duration of our honeymoon, Nanette made sure that I was properly deflowered. Repeatedly. Eager to apply all I had learned in school about being a good wife, I kept my hair a cluster of inviting curls, going to the hairdresser every afternoon, so that each evening my styled hair was available for her strong fingers to play with, to control my head, drawing me down, guiding me to worship and to lap her sweetness. As a new bride I understood my mother's direction that my hair ought to be nicely curled, a symbol of a man devoted to pleasing his woman, a pretty hairdo expressing willing surrender, offering pleasure in turn for all the pleasure received. At the salon I was one of three new brides having my hair done. The stylists teased us each afternoon and enjoyed watching us blush as they made lewd jokes about the fine service we were giving our new husbands. When we returned home, I felt certain that I was with child, just as my mother returned from his honeymoon pregnant. Five weeks after our wedding day I started having morning sickness. That very morning, when Nanette saw me in the bathroom being sick, she smiled, knowing I was pregnant. Mama and Baroness Sylvia heartily congratulated Nanette. Dame Oblea kissed and hugged me, welcoming me to motherhood. "Dear, sweet girby. Congratulations! Welcome to pregnancy and motherhood. You'll find it truly wonderful. I hope you enjoy your child-bearing as I enjoyed mine. Whenever you feel too uncomfortable or a bit blue, come to my side, dear. I've been there and will gladly support you." As I kissed him with thanks, the dear Dame whispered in my ear, "Remember, my dear, as you grow rounder in your pregnancy your husband will grow all the more attentive to your needs. Let her wait on you hand and foot. It's good to be a pregnant wife." We giggled together, our spouses looking at us a bit strangely. When Nanette and I reached our sixth month wedding anniversary I was completing the second trimester of my first pregnancy. By that point I showed a big baby-belly and walked with a pronounced maternity waddle. Nanette loved having me on her arm in public, that unverbalized gloat in her eyes, see what I did? Ira, my dear maid, took splendid care of me. When Nanette started making noises about taking me at my rear door, I asked Ira for advice. He provided me with lubricant and what he called a "duff duster" which would help me be more comfortable when Nanette laid siege to my posterior. Following his direction, I had Ira insert the duff duster in my well- lubricated tush one morning. I wore a tight panty girdle to hold it in place all day. That evening in our bed I went on my knees, put my carefully made-up face on the pillow with two pillows under my big belly and invited Nanette to use her strap-on. Initially with her first entering push, I wanted to pull away but I stopped, reminding myself that I had offered to do this. Better to get it over with. She powerfully thrust in and out, opening me, parting me, making me cry out. The duff duster had not opened me nearly as much as my husband's strap-on. As she pushed further in, splitting my bottom in two, I felt some pain but as she kept thrusting, I let out a loud sigh of contentment, which surprised me. "I think I found the right spot in my beautiful wife's lovely derriere," Nanette chortled. Soon enough I felt her shaking with orgasm which caused me to erupt with pleasure. The next morning as he helped me dress, Ira said with a mischievous wink, "The Captain seemed in a very good mood this morning, Mistress. How is your tush?" As the nine months passed, complete with swollen ankles, mood swings and sensitive nipples, the glow of motherhood filled me. I found myself happy to feel life growing inside of me. Particularly in my last three months I waddled about and had a great deal of physical discomfort. Yet every time I felt the baby move or kick me I felt happy. My own mother and Dame Oblea gave me a lot of reassurance. Inez, my first baby, came right on her due date and in a fairly easy delivery for the first one. Despite being as big-boned as her mama, my little darling caused me minimal pain. My labor lasted only seven and a half hours and the delivery was not half as painful as I had feared. As Dr Hagelaur foretold by the first anniversary of graduation I had produced a baby. The joy of our first wedding anniversary increased with the Queen bestowing knighthood on my mama. The thrill of calling my mother "Dame Uther" gave me great satisfaction. The happiness of motherhood combined with the joy of being a new wife in important circles at Court. Mother Oblea continued my political and social education. The Queen delighted Nanette by saying what a fine wife Nanette married. Our household staff of my maid Ira, Nanette's maid Ennis, Anton the cook, Gilon the baby's nanny, Helena the butler and chauffeur, worked well together. With their help, I quickly became a respected hostess in the military and political circles where Nanette was building her career. When we celebrated our second wedding anniversary, I was three months along with Vianna who made her entry into the world early in Third Month, 3270. Labor and delivery proceeded easily the second time as well, leaving me to think that birthing babies was easy. Mother and Dame Oblea cautioned me that it was not always so easy and telling me that I was extremely lucky with my first two babies. My lessons to the contrary came later. ~To be continued~