Chapter Text
Chilchuck took a deep breath.
The door to his marriage chamber loomed tall above him, much taller than he ever imagined it would. He’d always dreaded this when he was younger. The idea of being owned by a man, treated like a wife. A woman. A mother.
And he was still going to be a mother, and he was a wife, but this wasn’t quite like that. In some ways, this was much, much worse.
In others—well. At least he got to be in control of this one moment.
Beyond that door, his husband was chained and muzzled, completely naked, waiting for Chilchuck to consummate the marriage with him. Hardly traditional, but those were the precautions the Toudens felt necessary. They also insisted on the room being kept in complete darkness, which sounded like more of a nuisance than anything, but they didn’t want Chilchuck to see the man he married until the union couldn’t be undone.
They were afraid he’d turn and run if he so much as looked at him.
See, the Touden’s sole heir and son was born a monster. The family had been cursed by a powerful mage, an elf they somehow disrespected, Chilchuck couldn’t really remember that part of the story. What he did know was how that curse got him here.
The mage said no other sons could be sired from the Touden line until the monster bore an heir. Even cousins and cousins of cousins had nothing but daughters in the twenty-two years since the curse was lain, and in their desperation to break it, the Toudens hired a mage who specialized in the same sort of magic to see what could be done. It couldn’t be reversed, but there was one thing that could help ensure the heir the monster-son sired would carry as few of his beastly traits as possible.
The curse used the mana of the host body—whoever was pregnant with the cursed child—to alter the form of the child. Thus, if the host had a very shallow mana pool, like a half-foot, the child might be normal, or at least much closer to it than their father.
So the Toudens offered money and land and all manner of fineries to every noble half-foot family they could find who had daughters of marrying age. Most scoffed at the offer. Give their precious daughters up to some cursed monster-man? But Chilchuck’s father had left a vast debt behind when he died, and his mother, apologetic about it as she was, caved when she heard the price.
“They promised he wouldn’t hurt you,” she had said, smoothing her hands over his hair as he stood frozen, shocked at the news. “ It won’t be so bad. You’ll see. ”
Chilchuck had considered running, but he wasn’t a reckless child anymore. He was on the older side for a half-foot of “marrying age” and he knew this would have to happen eventually. He was born a woman, and he would have to move through the world of nobility as one. He could cut his hair short and take up boyish hobbies, but when push came to shove, his life was only worth his bride-price.
At least his mother and younger sisters could live well now, with the debt paid off. Maybe they could all find husbands who would treat them well, since they were no longer considered undesirable for their poverty.
Chilchuck took a deep breath. He was doing this for them. He was not a coward.
He was going to fuck the monster.
…
Inky darkness stretched in every direction. Chilchuck was only vaguely aware of where the walls were, his ears ringing with how hard he was concentrating on the sound of his breath echoing, along with the breath of his husband.
The chains shifted slightly, and he could imagine the movement, a head looking up, but he couldn’t picture what that head looked like. They hadn’t told him anything. Scales, fur, feathers, he didn’t know what the monster wore, where his eyes were or how many. He had a feeling he could see in the dark, a shivering sensation of being stared at and appraised, but it was just a feeling. He couldn’t know for sure.
“So,” Chilchuck said, his voice awkward in the silence, but it felt more awkward not to say something. “I’m… your wife. I guess. Or I will be. Once we… you know.”
He heard slight movement. He’d been told the monster couldn’t talk, but he’d expected some kind of noise. His skin prickled, and he gulped, steadying himself before moving forward.
He was wearing a robe and nothing else, and though his hands reached for the ties, he hesitated. He felt cold and didn’t want to lose the outer layer.
“I can’t see a thing, you know,” he said. “I thought maybe my eyes would adjust, but they’ve really sealed every crack. There’s not a drop of light in here.”
Silence. Chains creaking. Then something sliding across the floor, like the swish of a dog’s tail wagging.
“What are you… what do you…” Chilchuck trailed off, reaching out with hands instead of words. His heart pounded, palms inching forward so slowly, trembling with anticipation, knowing he could be touching him any second.
He gasped, skin making contact with something cold and full of holes. Then he felt a puff of warm breath, and he understood. This was the muzzle. A metal cage wrapped around the man’s jaw.
“Oh. They really meant it.” Chilchuck’s hands slid forward, around to the sides of his head. He felt fur or hair, then a twitch against his palm. Ears. Like dog’s ears.
“Are you… a wolf?” He imagined a wolf-man, tail wagging along the ground, snout muzzled and ears full of white fluff. But then his hands moved up farther, and he felt something hard and ridged, spiraling up out of the top of his head.
“Horns?”
The monster huffed, shrinking away from his hands. Chilchuck pulled his arms in towards his chest and felt his cheeks flush.
“Sorry,” he said. “I just—I wish I could see you.”
The man made a small noise like a whine, then, and Chilchuck was shocked for a moment. He wished he could see what sort of expression he wore, because he couldn’t quite figure out what the sound meant.
His stomach churned as the reality of the situation dawned on him. This man—monster—whatever he was, was completely at Chilchuck’s mercy. Did he even want to get married? He probably had just as little say in this as Chilchuck did, less so, even, since he couldn’t say anything at all. Had they forced him into this room, did he fight it as they put the restraints on his arms and legs?
Chilchuck chewed at his lower lip. He should have asked more questions, but then again, how could he? The Toudens seemed thankful, yes, but not like they actually cared about his opinion. It was all you will do this and t his is how it will be with them. And he couldn’t say anything because they already paid. If he backed down now, would he be the one in chains next?
Chilchuck tried not to think about that. He squared his shoulders and set his jaw, then reached for the ties of his robe. He had to do this, so he may as well get it over with.
“Okay. I’m going to try to make this fast,” he said. “For both of our sakes.”
The robe dropped to his feet, the cold biting at his skin. He moved closer to the warmth of the body in front of him, and reached out to feel where he thought the chest might be. He felt skin. Human skin. Perhaps the raised mark of a scar here or there and a very light dusting of hair between the pecs, but otherwise completely normal. He struggled to reconcile that with what he imagined of the head, and when his hands moved up towards the shoulders, he got another shock.
The left arm was covered in scales. He ran his fingers across the smooth surface of them, and the man shivered, making another small noise.
“Ah. Sorry,” Chilchuck apologized again. He was getting distracted. His goal was lower.
He reached out again, hands finding the man’s stomach. Once again, it felt like normal skin, hard muscle beneath a layer of fat, the hairs getting thicker as traced down past the navel. And then there it was. Hot flesh, throbbing as his hand brushed against it. The man made a sharp noise, air sucked between teeth. Chilchuck gulped.
He wrapped both hands around the cock to get a feel for how large it was, and he realized with a sinking in his stomach that it was large. Too thick for one hand to completely wrap around, and as he touched it, it just kept getting harder and longer, until it was standing straight up, dribbling wetness from the tip.
“How am I even supposed to…?” Chilchuck sighed. He had to try, right?
The man was kneeling on the ground, his arms pulled out to the sides, suspended in shackles. It was an awkward position, but Chilchuck put his arms around the man’s shoulders and hung off of him for support as he stepped over his folded legs, their chests pressing together as he suspended himself over the man’s cock. He could feel it brushing over his sex, and he let out a trembling breath, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum.
Slowly, he tried to lower himself down. The cockhead slipped against him, pushing up against his ass instead, and he gasped, straightening back up.
“Let me try again,” he whispered. He reached one hand down and held the man’s cock against his entrance, keeping it in position as he tried once more to lower down. It pushed between his folds, but soon felt stuck, too wide to breach his walls, just pressing an awful burn into him.
Chilchuck heard the man gulp, and he shut his eyes and clenched his teeth, trying with all his might to get it to fit, but it just wouldn't. It felt like he was going to tear, and at last he gave up with a sob, hanging off of his husband’s chest and shivering, legs pressing closed to dull the pain.
“This is impossible,” he said. “How did anyone think I could—I mean, look at me! I’m tiny. And you’re huge! It’s not fair. None of this is fair.”
Chilchuck felt something cold on his shoulder, and he gasped, startled when he realized the man had tucked his head down, resting the chin of his muzzle against him. It was the only movement he could make, restrained as he was, but Chilchuck smiled at the sentiment. He seemed to be saying I’d hold you if I could.
“You’re sweet, aren’t you?” he said, reaching up to feel the man’s hair, short and messy, sticking out around his ears and horns. “Not so scary after all…”
Of course, that was easy for him to say when the man was chained and muzzled. Still, he wanted to believe. He was married to this man, after all. Was it wrong to be hopeful that his husband had some redeeming qualities?
“Okay. I think… I’m going to have to, um. Open myself up.” Chilchuck rested his head against the man’s shoulder, face burning red as he said it. The man huffed, a sound of understanding, and Chilchuck couldn’t help the small, embarrassed whine that left his lips as he reached down and started to touch himself.
He could have moved away before he did it. He could have put space between them. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to feel protected by the larger, warmer body as he rubbed himself with his fingers. He wanted to feel like they were making love, not just consummating a marriage born of necessity.
His clit throbbed beneath his fingers, rubbing quick little circles, and he whimpered, grip tightening on his husband’s shoulder. He pushed lower, teased his entrance, then pushed a finger inside. It made him shiver, feeling the velvet of his insides. He’d done this before plenty of times—he may be a virgin, but he wasn’t that pure—but he wasn’t usually trying to get all that deep inside. He was just touching for the sake of touching, to get that swirling feeling in his gut to snap and the weight on his shoulders to lighten.
Now, though, he was pushing with intention. He got a second finger inside, thrusting slow and reaching as deep as he could manage. He felt so small. Too small to ever fit his husband’s cock.
He couldn’t give up, though. He got a third finger inside, and then a fourth, nearly fucking his whole hand into himself. It burned a little, but the stretch felt good, too. He was dripping wet, the sound slick and echoing in the room. He was breathing hard, and the man he was slumped against sounded pretty affected, too.
He was making little grunts and his hips were twitching, cock rubbing against Chilchuck’s thigh.
“Don’t you dare cum before I get you inside,” Chilchuck said, and those hips went still. He chuckled, feeling dizzy with that small bite of power. He pulled his hand out of himself and reached down, spreading the slickness on his fingers over the head of the man’s cock. He only needed to get a few inches inside, not the whole thing. Enough that when he came, it would end up where it was needed.
Chilchuck held the man behind the neck for support and kept his cock aimed at his entrance with his other hand, then began to lower down once more. There was still resistance, he was still wide enough to burn as it pushed inside, but Chilchuck took deep breaths and relaxed his muscles, and at last the head of his cock broke through the bulk of his resistance, slipping inside.
Chilchuck moaned, thighs trembling, and his husband made a deep groan, the chains rattling as he tried to pull his arms in. Chilchuck wished he could hold him, that he could feel his hands around his back or on his hips, but this was never meant to be romantic. It was a means to an end.
He shifted his hips, not quite lifting and lowering, but just moving in circles, rubbing the head of his husband’s cock against his walls, feeling him hit those places which made him shiver and whine. The man’s hips started to twitch again, unable to stop himself from trying to thrust, though with his limited movement, it was shallow and weak.
“Oh my god,” Chilchuck moaned, both arms around his shoulders, face tucked into his neck. “You’re really inside. I can’t believe it.”
The man made a noise that almost sounded like a word, an F sound, like the beginning of feel.
“It feels good,” Chilchuck said, and the man nodded, whimpering excitedly. They rocked together for a while, chests heaving in tandem, moans and groans and rough breaths exhaled against each other, until the man trembled and whined, his cock twitching inside Chilchuck as he came.
Chilchuck groaned, feeling warmth shoot into his core. It was a strange feeling, but he liked it. He liked how intimate it felt, knowing his body made this man come undone, and that now, their shared pleasure could take root inside him, could make him swell with life.
How strange. He’d never found the idea of pregnancy appealing before, much less something sensual, but being with another man this way, even if he hardly knew what he looked like, didn’t even know his name or if he had one, it sparked something new in him. He felt so close to this man, so connected, that he wanted to have his child.
And then the fog in his head started to dissipate and his breath slowed and the man’s cock got soft and slipped out of him.
Chilchuck cleared his throat, slowly unraveling his arms and stepping away from him. He felt silly for thinking like that, like a few minutes of juvenile passion was enough to make him fall in love. He also felt sore and raw inside, and there was cum starting to drip down his leg.
“Well,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady even if his legs felt as flimsy as paper. “I guess that’s it, then. We’re done here.”