Tony copes with new feelings

by burke_rakers
Storyline Wedding of the century
Previous Chapter Iron-Man and and the Mandarin are brought in to work out their problems.

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   "I...I don't know..." muttered Tony Stark, and though he didn't notice it...two attendants were removing his clothes piece by piece. His eyes aquired a distant look, as new memories flowed in...of his father and mother offering their child as a bride to the mighty Mandarin. An 'Arranged Marrage', if you will. And of how he was bundled away as soon as he was born, never even seeing his parents...never even seeing a white person. In fact...what did they look like? Because, he was raised in a world without mirrors for most of his life, and the surgeries performed on him as he grew ensured that when he finally saw a mirror, what he'd see was the face that his masterful, god-like Mandarin had ordered. A softly rounded, innocently childish face. A girlish face, surgically formed Asian-looking eyes, snub nose and tiny mouth made for smiles and giggles and passive acceptance of his masters demands.

   Tony sank to his knees, stunned and wondering as his feet - bound his whole life - shrank into a tiny, useless pair of chubby, childish things. They looked like the feet of a six-year old, with red painted nails and perfume on the never-used pads. After all, he'd never taken a single step...and never would. Like the most pampered and coddled of 'proper' wives, he would be carried about his whole life. On either side of the industrialist, a pair of muscular attendants held the poles connected to the small, pillow platform he knelt on. The platform he ALWAYS knelt on, because he never had...and never would...walk on his own.

   He held his hands up, and saw that though his bone-structure wasn't changing...his hands were now less meaty...masculine...his fingers long - longer do to the loss if masculine thickness - and his nails grew...longer and longer...a set of lunitic daggers, six-inches long, painted blood red and decorated with Chinese characters that told the world he was simple, passive and quiet...as any good wife should be. After all, his hands weren't intended to be used. He held his slim, delicate, utterly uncalloused hands up, splaying his nails in natural immitation of a flower. He had been taught his whole life that he was an object to be cared for, instead of a 'person' who 'made choices'. He knelt on his platform, his body growing slimer and slimer...his waist cinched into a tiny waspish hourglass. All of him shrank, as his diet had now ALWAYS been one of vegetables, rice and fish. Food that he'd never picked up, but which attendants had always fed him, a tiny morsel at a time.

   The figure of Tony Stark had changed utterly, into a tiny, doll-like boi with softly feminine features and shape, wearing traditional, colorful (purple and green) layerd gowns cinched tight at his tiny waist. An observer who had the knowledge would have said he was dressed as an Empress of some long gone Chinese kingdom. His mind turned in on itself, losing absolutely EVERY bit of Western-influenced learning and education, and replacing it with a purely Chinese education. He was unable to either read or write English, and would never be able to speak it properly, having the cutest little accent. All his technological skills vanished, replaced with a proper knowledge of what an Empress needed, such as how to dictate poety about his wonderful husband and judge flower arangements. His hair grew long...long...never having been cut, the nearly twelve-feet of inky black tresses were bound, wrapped, aranged upong his tiny head like a tower of buns, comba and pins. His face was coated in white, red lips painted to appear even smaller and more rosebud-like, slanted eyes exagerated and deepened with dark purple, blush changing the aparent shape of his cheek bones.

   Then...he leaned domewhat forward and gasped, as his buttocks - sculpted and shaped his whole life by diet and man - swelled and plumped mightily. After all, if he'd never need to walk, then the size of his ass didn't need to be restrained. His thighs thickened and his buttocks swelled, till his large, soft yet firm ass replaced his pillows. He was a freak, his big ass taking up almost as much of his body as his tiny, girlish limbs.

   "Most pleasing, my lovely Antoinette..." said the tall, regal Mandarin as he stepped into the room. That name - the only trace of his former existance.

   The tiny boi-girl didn't turn his head, as that would have been demeaning to both himself and his husband - but instead gestured with a tiny, long-nailed hand, and his attendants lifted and turned him towards...the Mandarin. His husband-to-be. The man for which his whole life had been lived. He smiled, and said in soft, bell-like tones "I preese you, 'usband. Antoinette make his 'usband happy? Mos' humble Antoinette is so preased mos' honolable Mandalin is happy with him. Antoinette is jus' sirry, simple rittle boi."

   "Now, my sweet little flower. You are most important. As I love you, you are the very center of the universe...under me. You should act as such."

   A strange look passed over his features, then Antoinette snapped at her attendants in the most pure Mandarin Chinese "Hold me steady, foolish dogs! I am to be EMPRESS, you low curs! I am the boi-bride-to-be of the masterful Mandarin! I am VERY IMPORTANT! The second most important person in the universe! Hold me steady, or I shall have you whipped!"

   "Yes, much better. You are not my enemy, Antoinette...but my spoiled, pampered little lapdog of a bride. I urge you to be such for the rest of your life."

   He blushed, and a platoon of American lawyers was brought out, to sign papers and officially hand over all the Stark holding to his wonderful husband. And he? He gestured, and an attendant fed him a tiny morsal of food, and another began to arange his gowns in a more flattering way. A third appeared...and a fourth...and soon, he was like a queen bee in a hive. All about him fluttered tiny girls and muscular men, doing his bidding. The Mandarin reached out and rested his hand on Antoinette's mighty buttocks, and the Empress gasped and moaned. They should enjoy this wedding - their wedding just as much as anyone elses - and the former Tony Stark began to count his blessings...Mandarin...Mandarin...Mandarin...

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colleem - 7/18/2019 2:30 PM
A handful loysl writers... But discord gave it a nice boost. But sadly no help for the page
gothamalleyviper - 7/18/2019 2:49 AM
On life support
saphilc - 7/18/2019 1:29 AM
is the site dead? i mean, is full of bugs, outdated, full of spam, no moderation...
Anarchy - 7/16/2019 9:55 PM
Never done discord before. Not even sure what it is, lol
Gorel - 7/16/2019 7:28 AM
We have a discord chat if you want to join us.
Anarchy - 7/15/2019 1:16 PM
Thanks Gorel! Glad to have time to come back and write some fun stuff!
Gorel - 7/15/2019 8:50 AM
Hey Anarchy, long time!
gothamalleyviper - 6/17/2019 6:37 AM
So does it warrant further development Anzaleth?
gothamalleyviper - 6/17/2019 2:17 AM
Anzaleth, I posted something on the message board I would like your feed back on.
gothamalleyviper - 6/14/2019 4:53 AM
Yeah, YXL is back

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