Li Shang knew he had been fortunate beyond belief in his bride. She was clever, resourceful, kind and beautiful. And when he first began to fall in love with her, he thought she was a boy, which had led to some of the most bewildering nights of his life. Learning that she was not what she had seemed to be had summoned up a different mess of confused emotions, but foremost among them had been relief - relief that his feelings made sense again (although they did not, not even a little) and, though he would be ashamed to admit it later, relief that he could spare Ping from any further horrors of war. His - no, her - injury had been terrifying to Shang, and learning the truth of her sex had provided an excuse to leave her behind.
He had tried to apologize to her once, feeling that he had treated her shabbily that day on the mountain. Mulan had shaken her head - her hair still short but growing longer now, almost to her shoulders - and said, "It was your decision as my commander. I would be a very poor soldier if I questioned it, especially now, when it can change nothing."
"Still," he persisted. "If you had not followed, I can’t bear to think what could have happened. I'm lucky to have such a disobedient wife," he told her, and was gratified to see her dazzling smile.
No matter how much he loved his wife, though, the thought of the boy he had known first had never entirely left him. Sometimes he would dream of Ping, dream of things he knew he should not desire, and wake up sweating and anxious and reach over to find Mulan beside him - a presence that was both comforting and disconcerting. "What is it?" she would ask each time, and he would say only, "I was dreaming of the war." She understood, or thought she did, and would hold him until he could sleep again.
One night his dream was so vivid, and so explicit, that he woke with a shudder. Mulan was leaning over him, her hand on his chest, just above his pounding heart. "Another war dream?" she asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
"Yes," he managed to say, and then, "no." She nestled closer to him, her hand stroking his stomach gently, until she moved low enough and brushed accidentally against the hard length of his manhood.
Her eyebrows shot up with surprise, and she drew her hand back. "I'm sorry," she began, but he shook his head and took her hand in his own.
"No, I should be asking your forgiveness," he told her, knowing he could not keep this from her any longer. His face felt as though it was on fire as he tried to explain, each word struggling to emerge. "I dreamt of... of you, but... not you..."
She tilted her head in bemusement. "Me, but not me?"
"Of when you were Ping," he mumbled, unable to meet her gaze. "Of things I wanted then, things that I knew were wrong, and yet... I couldn’t, can’t, stop thinking of them."
"What things?" she asked more tenderly, seeing how bothered he was. "Shang, you can tell me the truth - I won't think badly of you, whatever it is."
"Things that... men do with one another," he said, his voice now barely above a whisper.
"Haven't I proved," she told him, patting his hand affectionately, "that I can do anything a man can? Tell me what you want, and we'll find a way to make it work."
And so, with some more stammering and false starts, he explained to her what he longed for, and she listened patiently, occasionally interrupting with a question, but never seeming shocked or disgusted. "Is it something you've done before, with a man?" she asked once, and he shook his head.
"No, never. I... I knew some who did, among the soldiers, but it was never something I felt drawn to, until I saw you..."
"I never knew I had that effect on you when we were training," she told him, her smile growing more playful. "I just thought you were constantly disappointed in me - who knew? Can we try it now?"
"Now?" Shang was taken by surprise at her sudden interest, but nodded slowly. "There are... some things we could try tonight, yes."
He realized shortly, though, that although he knew in theory how it was supposed to work, in practice there were certain details he was unclear on, like what position might work best, or how you were supposed to start. "It hurts!" he gasped, tensing up as she eased one finger inside him. "Take it out, please?"
"Shang," she said, looking up at him sweetly, "it hurt me our first time too, but it did get better - maybe it's like that." But she withdrew as he'd requested, considering the matter with the look of a woman who had a problem to solve. "Oil," she said at last. "That would help things slide easier. Hang on." And she rose from their bed, wrapping her robe around her, and padded off to, he presumed, the kitchen. Shang shifted nervously while she was gone, still feeling the faint ache of his ass and wondering if this was a terrible idea or a brilliant one.
When she returned, Mulan had a little clay jar in her hand, and a sly smile on her face. "Let's do this," she said, disrobing once more and slipping back into bed with him. She dribbled a little of the oil over the fingers of her right hand, and moved down to kneel between his thighs. "Ready to try again?"
Shang nodded. "Maybe if you could use your mouth on me too, that might help to relax me a little first.”
“Of course,” she said, eager to help. She curled her other hand around the base of his cock, and began licking him, teasing his foreskin back to tongue him more thoroughly. He moaned and just as he was starting to melt into the bed with pleasure, she rubbed her oiled fingers against his ass again. This time, though, it felt much better - closer, perhaps, to what he had imagined. She circled around more slowly before pressing smoothly into him, and as she did so she also sucked him into her mouth as far as she could. Shang almost lost it right then and there. As it was, he made a most undignified whimpering sound and spread his legs wider for her, all but begging for more.
“Better?” she asked, lifting her head for a moment.
He said something, he was sure, but he had lost any shreds of coherence and wasn’t sure afterwards what it was, other than affirmative. When she added a second finger alongside the first, he thought he might have screamed, but it was all a bit of a blur at that point. Very soon afterwards, he was coming, Mulan’s lips sliding along his shaft and her fingers stretching his ass open. Afterwards, when they held each other close, he could still feel a slight throbbing ache at the unaccustomed treatment he had received, but it was a pleasant reminder now, not uncomfortable.
The more they tried this new experiment, the more Shang became familiar with the sensations of being penetrated, even as Mulan pushed his limits gradually further. She enjoyed it too, that much was plain to see. After a few weeks of further fingering, she inquired whether Shang might like to try something larger. She was stroking his manhood when she brought the matter up, and from the look on her face it was clear that was about the size she meant. “What would we use, though?” Shang looked around their room, mystified at what she could be thinking of.
Mulan’s smile widened. “I asked around - discreetly, don’t worry - and I may have found a solution. Do you want to see it?” When he nodded, she clambered out of bed and hurried to the chest where she stored her sword and other relics of her days in the army. Crouching to open it, she withdrew something he couldn’t quite see at first, until she turned, holding it proudly in both hands. It was long, smooth and cylindrical, made of polished jade, with one end rounded and the other wrapped in leather straps. “Ta-da!” she announced, grinning. “It’s my new rolling pin, do you like it?”
“Your rolling pin?” Shang looked at it, puzzled. “Mulan, you hardly cook… oh. Oh,” he repeated, as its true purpose dawned on him.
She brought it over to let him look at it more closely. “Is it all right? I thought it would be a good size, but if you think it’s too big…”
“No, no,” he said quickly. “It’s very nice.” The thought of having something that large inside him made him blush, but he knew he wanted it, wanted his beloved to use it on him. He handed it back to her, leather-wrapped grip first.
“I thought it might be good for it to have a handle, because I didn’t want it to slip with the oil on it and…”
“That was a good idea,” he agreed, a little more nervous at the mental image that gave him, and also impressed at just how much thought she had put into it - but then, this was Mulan. He really shouldn’t have been surprised at her resourcefulness.
"And maybe if that works, then I can figure out some kind of harness for next time..." She looked up at him hopefully. “So you’d like to try it tonight?”
“I would,” he told her, bending down to kiss her, giving thanks again that he had such an amazing wife.
Soon they had positioned themselves, Shang kneeling on all fours, Mulan behind him, the jade phallus in hand. Not being able to see precisely what she was doing made him more nervous, but also heightened his anticipation. When the cool tip of the device touched him, he jumped, but Mulan set her hand on his back to steady him. “It’s okay,” she murmured, “just relax.” She let it rest at his entrance for a while longer, allowing him time to grow accustomed to its feeling.
“All right,” he told her at last, and closed his eyes, pressing his face against the mattress as if bowing to some great dignitary. “Now.”
The pressure as she began to push it into him was incredible. Shang knew by now, though, that he could bear it, even push back against it to increase the sensations. Still, this was beyond anything he had felt before, larger and more rigid, filling him so tightly… “Yes,” he moaned, and “more, please!”
“Is that an order, captain?” she asked, lowering her voice enough to send a shiver up his spine. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a captain anymore, or that he knew perfectly well that she was a woman - the sound of her voice, of Ping’s voice, brought him right back to those early days.
“Yes!” he snapped. “Fuck me harder, soldier!”
Mulan obliged, shoving the phallus in all the way to its hilt. Shang’s eyes flew open and he gasped, hand fumbling beneath him to get a grip on his cock. The jade tool began to slide out as soon as Mulan relaxed her grip on it even slightly, but she didn’t permit it to go too far, pushing it smoothly back into him each time. Something about it seemed to be rubbing him from within in a way that felt incredibly good, especially when he managed to stroke his cock at the same time. It was so intense, so overwhelming, that he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out very long, even though at that precise moment he wanted it to go on forever.
He felt Mulan bending over him, the weight of her arm resting on his back, giving her greater leverage as she fucked him steadily. “Do you like that, captain? You like my big cock inside you?” she asked in her low, husky voice, and that was enough to undo him completely.
When his frantic, gasping shudders had diminished to the occasional twitch, Mulan kissed his shoulder and gently began easing the phallus out of him. Its sudden absence left him feeling hollow, until she crawled up to lie beside him, embracing him. “I love you, captain,” she whispered, and he managed a breathless smile.
“I love you too, soldier.”