The High Marshal’s Wife (Yandere x Reader) PT 2/2
Story: The king weds his recently legitimized daughter to the dangerously popular High Marshal as an insult… only for it to become the beginning of his own downfall. (Click here for PT1)
CW: Gender-swapping, dry humping, fingering, glove kink, anal penetration, handjob, riding, multiple orgasms, size difference; M/F and M/M relations; physical assault & implied torture (not between couple), MDNI
Morning light spilled through the curtains, warming the tangled sheets.
You woke slowly, pressed against your husband’s chest. His arm was heavy around your waist, holding you securely even in sleep.
Your face heated as memories from the night before returned. Apparently, the High Marshal approached his marital duties with the same determination he brought to war.
You shifted carefully, trying not to wake him, and immediately noticed that something felt different.
The unfamiliar weight between your legs was gone.
“Husband,” you whispered.
He woke instantly, his eyes scanning the room for danger. “What is it?”
“The potion… I think it wore off,” you said, the blanket falling down your body as you sat up.
Cedric looked you over, appreciating the marks he had left on you along the way.
Yes, you were a woman again.
Relief rushed through you, bright and overwhelming, and you threw yourself against him.
“Thank the gods,” you mumbled, wrapping both arms around his neck. “I was worried we’d have to… I don’t know.”
His hand spread across your back, holding you close. “I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you. To us.”
You stayed there for a moment, smiling into his shoulder. Then your eyes drifted toward the empty bottle on the table.
Cedric noticed the direction of your gaze. “Wife…”
You pulled back slightly, though your arms remained around his neck. “W-would it be strange if perhaps… well, only sometimes. I’m happy to be a woman again, but… being a man was also…”
You looked up at him, trailing off nervously.
He drew you against him again, nuzzling your cheek. “As I told you last night, you are my wife, in any form the gods see fit to twist you into.”
Your heart fluttered. “So you really wouldn’t mind?”
His hand started to slide lower. “I believe I demonstrated my position thoroughly last night,” he murmured.
A knock sounded at the door.
You squeaked and dragged the blanket over yourself, nearly pouting as Cedric called them in.
The doors opened, and three maids entered carrying warm water, fresh linens and clothing for the day.
None of them looked at you.
They bowed deeply to Cedric, murmuring greetings to His Excellency while you sat beside him with the blanket clutched beneath your chin.
One maid crossed directly to the wardrobe to prepare his uniform. Another began clearing the table.
A third approached his side of the bed with a basin. “I will prepare your bath, Your Excellency,” she said. “Would you prefer breakfast here or in the adjoining room?”
Cedric stared at her blankly. “My wife is sitting beside me.”
The maid faltered at the icy tone of Lord Cedric Ashbourne, High Marshal of the Royal Army.
It was only then that all three women turned toward you.
Two immediately looked ashamed. The closest one curtsied so quickly that water nearly spilled from the basin, while another hurried to ask whether you required anything.
The third maid, standing by the wardrobe, looked at your face. Then at the shape beneath the blanket.
Her eyes widened… but not with the embarrassment of a servant who had failed to acknowledge her new mistress.
Cedric saw the difference.
“I’m alright,” you assured the women, already uncomfortable beneath their sudden attention. You looked back at him. “Cedric, I’m used to-”
“Attend to my wife immediately,” he directed two of them.
Then he looked at the maid holding his clothes. “You. Remain outside.”
Her lips parted. “Your Excellency?”
The women hurried to obey. Cedric rose and dressed while the other two helped you from the bed.
Cedric kissed your forehead. “I have business to attend to,” he said softly. “If they mistreat you again, let me know.”
As he walked outside and closed the door, all warmth disappeared from his expression.
The maid claimed she had received the potion from an unknown courier and had been instructed to leave it beside your water.
She pleaded ignorance as to its effects, but her reaction earlier had damned her.
As Cedric washed the blood from his hands, he summoned his household alchemist.
The alchemist explained that the version given to his wife had been intended to keep her permanently in male form.
Cedric raised an eyebrow as the man became mildly flustered.
The alchemist cleared his throat. “The transformation was not yet permanent when the potion wore off. It required several undisturbed hours to bind fully to her body.”
“No, Your Excellency. The potion appears to have concentrated within the… newly formed organs. The physical exertion accelerated its circulation, while the resulting loss of bodily fluids expelled much of the active compound before it could settle.”
The alchemist stared very intently at his notes instead. “At the risk of speaking plainly, Your Excellency appears to have consummated the potion out of your wife…”
A brief smile appeared on Cedric’s face, though the alchemist was not privy to it.
“Can it be reproduced without that condition?”
The alchemist finally looked up. “The potion?”
“Set to expire after a predetermined number of hours,” Cedric said. “And with a second draught capable of reversing it immediately, should my wife wish to return to female form sooner.”
The alchemist nodded quickly. “That is possible for me, Your Excellency.”
“Good.” Cedric turned toward the door. “Inform me as soon as the first batch is ready.”
When Cedric placed the first safe bottle in your hand, you took it hesitantly. “And you truly don’t have a preference?”
He took the bottle from your hand and set it safely on the table.
Then he pulled you into his lap.
“My preference is my wife. I prefer you to anyone else.”
He kissed your tears away, and then kissed you some more.
Ashbourne Estate became your home.
At least, that was how Cedric first described it. Then he corrected himself. “Our home.”
Cedric’s wealth gave you access to everything the palace had withheld. His influence gave you privacy and freedom.
Your riding clothes were patterned after his, upon your request. They quickly became your favorite thing to wear.
The first time you appeared at the stables in them, Cedric malfunctioned.
The stable evacuated itself quickly.
You turned in front of him, showing off the dark fitted coat, trousers and polished boots. “Does this mean you like it?”
Then he pulled you against him and held you.
He hummed in response, his face buried in your hair.
You laughed and wrapped your arms around him. “Aren’t you going to teach me how to ride?”
You shifted in his embrace. Something firm pressed against your stomach.
“Is this why you’re hugging me?” you asked.
His arms tightened. “I am attempting to conduct myself properly in the stables.”
You smiled against his chest. “Everyone already left.” Then you rolled your hips against him.
Cedric inhaled sharply. “Wife.”
His mouth covered yours before you could laugh.
Cedric backed you against the stable door, one arm around your waist and one of his thighs slipping between yours. The new riding trousers did little to protect you from the pressure.
You clung to the front of his coat as he rocked against you, still trying to kiss you through every broken sound.
Neither of you removed a single piece of clothing.
By the time Cedric finally taught you how to ride, your legs were already trembling.
Once you had, rather quickly, gained the affection of the household staff, Cedric was dismayed to learn that his military men grew fond of you just as easily.
His soldiers bowed when you passed, not merely because you were the king’s newly legitimized daughter, but because you were their High Marshal’s wife.
They brought flowers, old campaign stories, jars of preserves and unsolicited accounts of every foolish thing your husband had done before meeting you.
“You climbed a frozen wall with a broken arm?” you asked your husband one evening.
He looked up at you from between your legs. “That is what you’re thinking about right now?”
“W-well, it was rather shocking information!” you defended yourself. “You have to be more careful, husband.”
“That happened years ago… perhaps I should ban such discussions around you.”
“Don’t you dare-nghh!” You momentarily lost the ability to speak further as he returned to his task.
You buried your hands in his hair, trying not to pull too hard as his tongue dragged another broken sound from you.
“C-Cedric, you know I can take care of you too.”
He paused again, just long enough to look up at you. “I am aware.”
“Then why am I always the one-ahhh!”
His hand tightened around your thigh. “Because you enjoy it,” he said. “And I enjoy watching my wife fall apart.”
His mouth returned to you before you could argue.
Your social endeavors were mostly philanthropic in nature. From your household to the military, and then to the poorhouses and orphanages.
You knew what it felt like to be overlooked, after all. And Cedric was fully supportive.
By the beginning of the season, the only people you hadn’t properly encountered were the other nobles.
The last time most of the court had seen you, you had been hurried into the throne room so the king could announce your engagement to the High Marshal.
The wedding itself had been rushed and sparsely attended. Afterward, Cedric took you to his estate, where few nobles were welcome without invitation.
By the time the season began, the court was abuzz with your activities. Even their servants seemed to think fondly of you already.
Your hair never touched your shoulders.
It grew out from its choppy length, yes, now that you were no longer being neglected. But you had grown fond of how the general silhouette looked in both male and female form.
When a seamstress suggested extensions for your first formal appearance as Lady Ashbourne, Cedric slowly looked at her.
The woman faltered. “Long hair is considered more appropriate for court, Your Excellency.”
“My wife’s hair is appropriate.”
“I don’t want extensions,” you admitted. “But I would like something pretty in it.”
The seamstress looked relieved to still have a profession.
A thin rose-gold chain was woven through your short hair instead, dotted with tiny blush-colored stones. It matched the delicate ring on your finger and the bracelet Cedric fastened around your wrist.
The court held its breath for your arrival, not for the appearances of the other princesses.
Cedric had… not expected the possessive pride that came with watching you personally gain the attention of the nobility that should have been your birthright.
He handled it rather poorly.
Luckily for him, people were quick to learn. Or else.
Lord Vale looked at you admiringly as you scooped up a bunny at a charity garden fête. “Has Lady Ashbourne always been-”
“Don’t,” Lord Harrow hissed, looking around.
The young lord froze. “I was merely going to say she’s beautiful…”
“Say it somewhere the High Marshal cannot hear you,” the older man said wisely.
Cedric walked past them, pointedly ignoring both men as he made his way to you.
“Isn’t she adorable, husband?” you said, hugging the bunny.
He looked at your rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. “Absolutely.”
Then he kissed you soundly, mindful of the animal between you.
Lord Vale had to watch the two of you separate with a thin trail of saliva still connecting your lips.
He barely had enough time to register your hazy expression before he stumbled backward, the High Marshal turning his head to look straight at him.
The king watched you both with veiled disdain.
The insult he had placed in Cedric’s hands was becoming an asset. More dangerously, you were becoming a bridge between the High Marshal and the people.
You attended military charities beside Cedric. You spoke with servants as though they were human, and you remembered the names of widows and their children.
When you entered a room, people smiled.
When Cedric entered behind you, they stood straighter.
The king began sending for you more frequently. He wanted to separate you from Cedric.
He also wanted to claim your growing popularity as his own.
Naturally, Cedric disliked it.
You kissed the crease between his brows. “He’s still my father.”
“He remembered that remarkably recently.”
You tried again. “He’s still the king.”
That only worsened your husband’s mood.
Sometimes Cedric held you beneath him until you forgot which form you had chosen.
Other nights, he allowed you to push him onto his back and climb into his lap with every intention of taking control.
He once dedicated so much time to teasing you that the potion wore off while you were still on the precipice.
You laughed as he had to adjust his plan of attack, but your master tactician of a husband quickly changed course and dissolved your giggles into mewls.
As you became spoiled by your husband, you became bratty in turn.
“Lord Thorne complimented me tonight,” you told Cedric when you returned to your rooms, taking off your shoes.
Cedric stopped removing his gloves. “Did he?”
You recognized that tone immediately. “He was very respectful. It was a fatherly compliment.”
“Hm, how fortunate for him.”
You smiled cheekily. “I made you jealous.”
“No.” He crossed the room.
You took one step backward. “Really?” you squeaked.
His voice was practically a growl as he buried his fingers in your hair, knocking your delicate hairpiece loose. It fell somewhere behind you.
“They like your hair accessories,” he murmured, his nose skimming your neck.
“They like your necklaces…” Cedric unclasped yours and tossed it aside.
Your breath hitched as his tongue passed over the newly exposed skin of your throat.
“They like the earrings you wear. They like your bracelets.” Those joined the pile too.
He sucked at your neck, holding you still as you tried to squirm. “C-Cedric, mmm…”
He picked you up and deposited you on the bed. Then he drew a small dagger.
Your eyes widened as he slipped the blade beneath the fabric of your dress.
“They like this too, don’t they?” he asked, cutting through it. “The pretty dresses on my pretty wife.”
Your nipples hardened as they were exposed to the cool night air… though it might have had more to do with the dark glint in your husband’s eyes.
“Ah, and they like your stockings. Or at least what they can see of them.” Cedric tugged those off as well, pulling you closer by the ankle.
He loomed over you, his lips barely brushing yours. “Don’t move.”
You watched as he wiped his gloves clean, but you obeyed.
Nearly fully dressed, Cedric covered your naked body with his own. “My wife,” he murmured. “My pretty wife. Don’t forget what I just said.”
A cold, glove-clad finger slid inside your slit.
Cedric dragged his tongue into your mouth as he began moving, pumping slowly as his finger curved inside you.
“O-ooh…” Hold still. You had to hold still.
Then he added a second finger.
He cupped your face with his free hand, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I am the luckiest man in all the kingdoms,” he said. “And I am also the most jealous.”
His fingers formed a hook inside you.
The creases of the leather dragged against your walls, making your hips twitch before you could stop them.
Cedric bit your cheek. “You’re being disobedient, wife.”
He twisted his fingers. “And that is what got you into this mess in the first place, isn’t it?”
“Ahh, mmm, yesh!” you cried.
“But it was my fault.” His hand moved with more intensity, pulling out before pushing back inside.
Then he leaned close to whisper in your ear. “I will take responsibility for this mess. Go ahead and move.”
With a relieved whine, you began bucking against his hand.
Cedric pressed his palm firmly against you, giving you something to grind against while his fingers continued moving inside.
“C-Cedric, ahh, mmm… y-you…”
Your words broke apart as you chased what you had been waiting for all night.
“I love you,” you babbled. “I love you, I love you, I love youuu.”
“Fuck, that’s it.” His forehead pressed against yours. “Just like that. Good girl.”
He kissed you between every word.
“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? You could never do anything wrong.”
“H-hus-band!” you choked out.
“My beautiful wife,” he murmured before swallowing your cries.
Your body tightened around his fingers as you came. Cedric held you through it, slowing only when you began trembling beneath him.
It took a few minutes for you to come down from your high.
Once you did, you pushed against his chest. “Get undressed, Cedric. Right now.”
The High Marshal complied immediately, keeping his eyes on you as much as he could.
You moved quickly. A blue potion waited on your nightstand. You grabbed it and drank.
Cedric watched the transformation with admiration.
By the time you had positioned yourself on your knees with your ass raised invitingly, you were fully in your male form.
Cedric returned to the bed and knelt behind you. “You’re such a good boy,” he murmured.
His hand moved over his cock at the sight of you.
You whined when he pressed the head against your entrance.
Cedric smeared the remaining slickness around your hole, barely dipping inside before pulling away again.
“Ceeedriccc”, you pouted and pushed backward.
He cursed as the head of his cock slipped past the tight muscle. But he got the message.
Cedric placed both hands on your ass and slowly sank the rest of the way inside.
“My beautiful,” he said, pulling back.
You fisted the sheets as he started pounding into you, the only ‘punishment’ he could ever bring himself to give.
The sound of his hips meeting your ass filled the room, joined by every helpless noise he forced out of you.
Cedric watched himself disappear inside his wife. Male or female, you always took him so beautifully.
One hand left your hip and reached beneath you. His fingers wrapped around your cock.
“Ah,” Cedric murmured. “You like that too.”
“Y-you already know I do.”
His thumb passed over the head, spreading the wetness gathering there before his hand began to move.
You dropped onto your elbows. It was too much.
His cock filling you from behind. His hand moving around yours. His body pressing you deeper into the bed.
Cedric only quickened his pace, fucking you harder while his hand worked you in time with every thrust.
You tried to meet him, but your knees had begun sliding apart against the sheets.
Cedric caught your waist before you could collapse. “Up.”
You barely managed to lift your head. “W-what?”
His arm wrapped firmly around your middle. He pulled your back against his chest, keeping himself buried inside you as he brought you upright.
Your hands scrambled for something to hold.
“Husband,” you gasped as the new angle pushed him even deeper.
“I have you, wife.” He shifted backward, taking you with him until his back met the headboard.
You ended up seated in his lap with your knees spread on either side of his thighs. His cock remained inside you.
Your back rested against his chest, one of his arms locked securely around your waist.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
Cedric kissed the side of your neck while you adjusted, his lips unexpectedly gentle after everything else. “You alright?”
“Good boy.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “My good boy.”
You turned your head in search of him, and he caught your lips properly. The kiss was messy from the angle, but neither of you cared.
Cedric swallowed your moan as you lifted yourself from his lap, then lowered yourself back onto him.
Your head fell against his shoulder.
“That’s it,” he murmured against your cheek. “Take what you wanted.”
Your first few attempts were clumsy. Your legs trembled, and Cedric was substantially larger than you in every form.
But his arm remained around your waist, helping lift you whenever your strength failed.
And then you found a rhythm together. You bounced in his lap while he guided you, pulling you down to meet each upward thrust.
His other hand returned to your cock. He pumped you as he kissed every part of you he could reach. Your neck, your shoulder, the edge of your jaw. And whenever you turned toward him, your mouth.
“C-Cedric, it feels-ahh-it feels so good.”
You made an offended sound.
It became a cry when he thrust up particularly hard.
Cedric smiled against your neck. “Brat.”
His grip tightened around your cock, making your rhythm stutter. “More than life itself.”
You turned and kissed him, nearly missing his mouth in your urgency. Cedric corrected the angle, capturing your lips while his arm pulled you tightly against him.
You could hardly move on your own anymore, but you didn’t need to.
Cedric lifted and lowered you against him, his hips driving upward as his hand continued moving between your legs.
You were surrounded by him, held together by him. Loved so thoroughly that you could no longer remember why you had wanted to make him jealous in the first place.
Your thighs began to shake. “H-husband, I’m close.”
His thumb circled the head of your cock. Your entire body seized.
You came across his hand as he pulled you down hard into his lap, burying himself as deeply inside you as your body would allow.
He groaned your name against your throat. One more broken thrust, and he followed you.
His arm remained firm around your waist as your body trembled against his. His kisses softened, passing over your damp temple and cheek while you struggled to catch your breath.
Neither of you moved for several moments.
Then you turned your head slightly. “I’m not sorry for making you jealous.”
Cedric bit your shoulder.
You yelped, and his arms immediately tightened around you.
But he kissed the spot afterward.
Only a few hours later, Cedric received a letter from his spies.
He had continued quietly pulling at the thread behind the original potion while the two of you settled into married life.
The trail had been unusually difficult to follow, even with the resources at his disposal.
Cedric understood why as soon as he reached the final page. He dismissed everyone from his office before reading it again.
The person who had given the order was named plainly.
The letter crumpled in Cedric’s hand.
You rushed inside, one hand pressed against your cheek. Tears streaked your face, and the guards Cedric had assigned to you followed several steps behind.
He saw the mark beneath your fingers.
Cedric crossed the room before you could take another step, pulling you against his chest. You buried your face in him, clinging to his coat as he lifted you completely from the floor.
You tried to answer, but only a sob came out. The leader of your personal guard stepped forward.
“It was the king, Your Excellency”, he said solemnly. “His Majesty ordered Lady Ashbourne to remain at the palace and demanded that she persuade you to relinquish your command. When she refused, he struck her.”
Cedric became very still.
Slowly, he pulled you back to look at you. “I love you,” he said.
You looked up at him, another tear falling down your unbruised cheek.
“I love you.” He kissed the tear away tenderly. “Stay here and wait for me.”
On your wedding night, you had clung to his arm and begged him not to leave.
This time, you kissed him and stepped aside.
Cedric summoned a physician to tend to you first.
Then he mobilized the Royal Army, leaving his personal guard to lock down the estate.
The king had mistaken Cedric’s restraint for unpreparedness.
It was the final mistake he ever made.
A royal carriage escorted you to the palace in the early hours of the morning.
This time, your husband met you instead of your father.
By the time Cedric and his men had rooted out every person responsible for your mistreatment, his military uniform was soaked red.
As the sun rose behind the palace, your husband held out a bloodied hand to you.
You took it and stepped down from the carriage.
But he did not release you.
Instead, the kingslayer sank to both knees before his wife.
His bloody fingers remained wrapped around yours as he looked up at you.
“I never wanted his crown,” he said quietly. His other hand settled behind your knee, drawing you one small step closer.“Unfortunately, I have since developed an objection to the person wearing it.”
You touched his face tenderly. There was blood on his cheek that did not belong to him. “I love you, Cedric.”
He turned his head and kissed your palm.
“And I love you, my wife.” His gaze never left yours. “My queen.”
