Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Story: Vows: Wedding Day

The following story contains relatively little shrinking and no sexual content, but sets the stage for future stories with the characters.  If I decide to continue it (reader feedback will be key in determining that) there will be more size play and probably more sexual content as things progress.  I'd qualify this as one of my gentler/sweeter stories and will remain so even when/if I bring it to a NSFW place.  

Vows: Wedding Day
copyright 2017 Taedis

“You sure you want to go through with this?” David asked trying to get my tie straight. “It's still not too late to change your mind.”

“I love her. Besides, I've already rented the tux; it's a little late to call things off.”

“I'm not talking about the wedding and you know it.” He patted the tie flat on my chest. It mostly stayed put.

“Carrie's family are very … religious.”

I was going to say traditional or old fashioned, but what Carrie and I had planned wasn't either of those things. It was doubtful Carrie's folks would define it as “religious,” but that didn't matter so long as Carrie was satisfied.

“It's the 21st century, man. Even most Old Church weddings don't do that crap anymore. I totally get not wanting to force Carrie to do it. The whole thing is just misogynistic as fuck, but you taking her place doesn't make up for all the women who got the shit end of that ritual stick.”

“It's not like that.”

“Then tell me what it is like.”

“Carrie … Carrie would do this in a heartbeat. After I proposed we talked for hours about … everything. Our future. The wedding. She told me she was going to be the one who bound herself to me. I said everything you did and more. Tried to convince her that we didn't need any of that …”
I started to say “crap,” but thought better of it. If I was going to marry into a religious family it'd be best that I at least don't openly disrespect their faith in their church. Even if David and I were alone in the priest's office.

“I finally managed to convince her that it'd be ok with God if I was the one bound to her instead of the other way around. Turns out the parts of the Old Church texts that cover Binding and the Vows aren't that specific about gender. It's just assumed that the one getting bound is the wife. It's a loophole, but one that Carrie and her priest respect.”

“I don't want to sound like a dick, but if Carrie is the one who wants this so bad, would it be such a bad thing if you just let her do the crazy ritual?”

I'd been thinking the same thing. A lot.

“The idea of having that much power over someone else is scary. Scarier than the thought of Carrie having that power over me. I love her. I trust her. She'd never do anything to hurt me.”

“OK. How about this for a reality check. People change. Feelings change. A couple years from now maybe you and Carrie don't want to be married anymore. What happens then? It's not like there's a magic wand a divorce judge can wave that will take her power away. This ritual was made back when people got stoned if they broke up. And not in the Bob Marley kind of way.”

“Divorce rates among the Church are substantially lower than those in the rest of the population, David.” The priest said, stepping into her office. “I'm sorry, I couldn't help overhear what you were talking about.”

David hemmed and hawed like a school kid caught talking shit about the teacher behind her back.

“You two need to be in position now.” The priest said and motioned for us to follow her.

Her office led to a small hallway and into the church's main chamber. A huge area of thick stone, stained glass, and hard wooden pews. Guests were filing in trying to find seats closest to the few fans that had been spaced out throughout the roasting stone church. This would have been better if we'd have been able to do this in a modern church with air-conditioning. Or city hall. But neither of them was licensed to perform the rituals Carrie wanted. Hell I wasn't even clear whether they were fully legal anymore outside the Old Church's First Amendment protections.

David and I stood at our assigned spots at the front of the church to the left of the altar. The priest went about her pre-ritual rituals, lighting candles, filling the chalice, saying prayers, gesturing oddly with her beads.

I watched people take their seats. Heard them complain about August weddings or the fact that stained glass windows weren't designed to be opened. I didn't even need to look at faces to know which side of the church was Carrie's; all I had to do was see all the tiny women.

About half were only a little shrunken. If you didn't know their religion you might just think they were really short normal people. The kinds of women who blog about how impossible it was to find anything in their size and bitches/boasts about being carded when their kids are old enough to drink.
They were the ones who'd been allowed to pass for normal. The rest … not so much. Twelve inches seemed to be the next most popular height. Most of them were obediently sitting on their husbands' laps, wearing their Barbie outfits, remembering what it was like when they were brides.

There were a handful smaller than that. The one that caught my eye. Caught everyone's eye, really. Was Josephine. Her husband Earl carried her in the breast pocket of his white dress shirt. She hung her arms out over the top, but everything else below her collarbone was covered by Earl's shirt. Their was a lot of speculation about whether Josephine was wearing a strapless dress or if she'd come to our wedding completely nude.

Earl and Josephine had that kind of reputation.

All of them, all of the tiny shrunken people, were women. Mothers. Lovers. Housewives. Human beings who had followed their hearts and their beliefs into marriages where their partners could do that to them. It seemed so strange and archaic. The thought that I'd be one of them soon, in terms of power if not gender, was more than a little scary.

After a few more minutes everyone who needed to had found their seats and the priest had lit the final pre-wedding march candle. A signal passed between David, the priest, the usher, and the organist. 
Everyone was as ready as they were going to be.

The organ music shifted from a hymn I didn't know to the louder, more familiar precessional.

Neither Carrie or I had any younger siblings or cousins to play flower girl. We were thinking of going without when one of Carrie's friends, Millie, volunteered. Millie was a couple years older than Carrie and had been married to Paul for six years. She made her own flower girl dress and Paul shrank her down to two feet tall so she could fit into it. She had a larger dress for the reception when Paul would make her big enough to dance with comfortably.

Millie smiled broadly as she tossed rose petals on the worn carpet leading from the vestibule to the altar. When she reached the end of her march she dumped the petals that remained in the spot where Carrie would soon be standing. I didn't know if this was part of the ritual or a less magical tradition.

Next came the matron of honor, Joan. Joan was Carrie's best friend and Matthew's wife. She'd given her Vow to him three years ago, but he allowed her to be more-or-less normal sized for her best friend's big day.

I saw Matthew and Paul sitting next to each other on Carrie's side of the church. They were the only adult men without a tiny woman seated beside or on them.

The butterflies in my stomach were stampeding at that point. Would I really be able to go through with this? Was I ready to give that much control over to Carrie? Once I was bound to her she could make me any size she wanted. She could shrink me down smaller than a tube of lipstick and carry me around in her purse and there would be nothing I could do about it.

I was a modern liberal man. Intellectually I knew there was nothing wrong with a man being bound to a woman like that. As long as both partners loved and trusted one another. But there was a part of me that was terrified giving up my power and privilege.

Would it be so bad to just keep my mouth shut when the priest asked the big question? If I didn't say anything I know Carrie would step in and take that bullet for me. Maybe she'd even prefer it that way. Or maybe I just wanted to convince myself of that. Grasp for that last straw while the organist shifted over to “here comes the bride.”

Carrie walked down the aisle in her grandmother's wedding dress. It was white, not that that mattered to us, but some of Carrie's older relations could at least pretend that we'd waited. That meant something to Carrie. And it was almost kinda true. In a way. We decided that we wanted to make our wedding night special so we hadn't gotten past second base in over three months.

Hundreds of millions of husbands have described how they felt when they first saw their intended walking down the aisle. They've described how radiant, how beautiful, how amazing their partners were in that moment. How much they loved them. I don't have anything to say that those hundreds of millions of other husbands have said other than Carrie was better than all of the other brides. She was mine. And seeing her there, walking in the stained glass heat, I knew that I would never regret being hers.

The priest offered a greeting to the congregation, but I was too focused on Carrie standing there on a puddle of rose petals in front of the altar. Prayers and homilies were offered. People rose from and returned to their pews as ordered. Hymns were mumbled through and forgotten.

David pressed rings into Carrie and my hands. The moment of truth was about to happen.

“The Lord God decreed that man and woman not walk this world alone, but instead join together in holy union.” The priest said. She had never been married; she had never been bound to anyone other than her god.

“Our God is a just God. Our God is an ordered God. Our God believes in hierarchy. And as He has given dominion of the Earth to man so to does he give dominion to one spouse over the other through oath and miracle.

“I look into the faces of Carrie and Jack. This happy young couple about ot begin their lives together and I ask which partner shall cede dominion to the other? Which partner shall sacrifice their pride and their power in sacrifice to the divine will.”

“I will.” I think my voice cracked a little, but I said the words I was supposed to say.

One of Carrie's uncles snorted. Loudly. Earl chuckled. There was a murmured chorus of stunned disbelief from Carrie's half of the church. We'd informed her family about our choice, but none of them took us seriously until now.

“You do this with the full understanding of all this entails?” The priest asked.

“I do.”

“You understand that your body will wax and wane according to the will of she who will have dominion over you?”

“I do.”

“And that she will hold this dominion over you so long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Then repeat after me:”

I, Jack Clark,
(I Jack Clark)
In order to form the union mandated by God
(In order to form the union mandated by God)
Offer openly and of my own free will
(Offer openly and of my own free will)
Give over to my wife
(Give over to my wife)
Control of my flux and size.
(Control of my flux and size.)
And understand that she she and she alone
(And understand that she and she alone)
Will guide our path
(Will guide our path)
As we go through the world together.
(As we go through the world together.)

“Place the ring on Carrie's finger.”

My hands were nervous trembling as I fumbled the ring on Carrie's outstretched hand.

“Carrie. Jack has offered you dominion over this marriage. He has ceded pride and power to make a life with you. A life that you will decide upon. Are you prepared to accept this great responsibility?”

“I am.” I didn't have to see Carrie's smile, I could hear it in her voice.

“Then repeat after me:”

I, Carrie Rucka,
(I, Carrie Rucka,)
Pledge to honor, cherish, and protect
(Pledge to honor, cherish, and protect)
The life that has submitted itself to me.
(The life that has submitted itself to me.)
I shall wisely guide us
(I shall wisely guide us)
Through all the dangers of the world.
(Through all the dangers of the world.)

“Now place the ring on Jack's finger.”

Carrie's fingers were steady and sure as they pushed the wedding band onto my finger. If either of us had to hold dominion over the other it was best it was her.

The priest handed me a chalice filled with sacramental wine and herbs.

“This chalice represents you, Jack; the wine inside it your strength. You have offered and pledged that strength to Carrie. Now you must give her your strength so that she may make the path of your future.”

I held the metal chalice in both hands. Despite the heat it felt cool in my trembling hands. I could feel something leave me and enter into the cup and the wine. This is where things got real. This is where the ritual became real magic. Once this was over there was no going back. I'd be bound to Carrie. I'd practiced this next part for hours making sure I wouldn't screw it up now.

I saw the wine ripple as my hands shook harder.

“I love you, Carrie as I have loved no other. There is no other in all this world who I would rather spend my life with. I have strength, but it is only the strength of one person as you only have the strength of one person. I give you this now that you may lead us both into our future. Let my small gift allow you the power to forge our world together. Please accept this. Please accept me.”

I raised the cup to her face. She placed her hands over mine, steadying them. Calming me. She placed her lips on the cool metal and drank down the wine, the herbs, and my strength.
I felt something change in me. It's hard to describe all of it. The wives who've given the cup to their husbands will understand what I'm talking about. I felt a weight lift off me. I no longer had to worry about whether I'd made the right decision, just trust that Carrie would never abuse my faith in her.

Carrie drank it all and took the cup from my no longer shaking hands.

“By the powers vested in my by God and the state of Rhode Island I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the groom.”

Carrie stared lovingly into my eyes and I felt her power wash over me for the first time. I felt myself melt away, just a little bit, and when I stopped melting I was looking up into Carrie's sparkling eyes.
She had to lean down to kiss me.

“I like you like this.” Carrie whispered in my ear. “I think this will be as tall as you get from now on.”


  1. I like the set up. Looking forward to seeing where this goes.

  2. This is great. I love it. At first I read hesitantly, as I really enjoy your writing, but stories about shrunken women are not what I seek out on purpose. Still, I kept reading not really knowing where this was going, and I'm glad I did. This is the beautiful beginning of what I hope will be a set of entries about a perfect couple: a normal-sized woman, and her little possession of a husband.

    1. Thank you. The next couple of entries will cover more of the big day and the honeymoon (because smut) with things branching off into Carrie and Jack's lives together. The focus will definitely be on them as a couple as they navigate their power dynamic, although the tiny ladies will still be present both as friends and relatives of the couple and as a support network for Jack. There'll be some drama, but at the end of the day Carrie and Jack love each other and are going to do what they have to to make things work. I don't know if they're a perfect couple, but they're trying.


Caption: Indecisive Smurf