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The woman laughs, a harsh humorless sound, like the cawing of a crow.

"Boy, what kind of fool do you take me for?" she asks. "The Vessel cannot be a man."

"I can prove it," you say.

Her eyes narrow, hard and dangerous. "Show me."

You reach up and lift your sister down from the back of the wagon, giving her a hug before setting her on her feet.

"Run up to the house and stay with Mama," you tell her. She starts to argue, but you give her your best stern big brother look. She runs up the hill, her blonde braids bouncing behind her. You turn to the woman and reach for your belt, but hesitate, your gaze sweeping the ranks of soldiers, all of them standing at attention, trying to look like they aren't watching. No one, not even your parents, has seen your unique anatomy since you were a child.

"Are you sure you want to see this, Ma'am?" you ask. "It could be quite shocking."

"Boy, I've raised five sons and had three husbands," she says. "Nothing you have down there could shock me."

"All right, but, um..." You glance at the soldiers again. "Could I get a little privacy?"

The woman smirks, as if amused by your shyness.

"About face!" she orders. Armor clatters and feet stomp as the soldiers turn, presenting you with a wall of shiny, metal backs. "Anyone who looks will have his eyes carved out and the bloody orbs shoved down his throat."

You swallow hard. This woman has to have demon blood in her veins. Nothing else could be so casually cruel, especially to the men in her command. Your hands tremble as you unbuckle your belt and lower your trousers. The woman's hard expression shifts, a look of momentary surprise on her face, but it quickly turns to a scowl.

"I don't know what you're playing at, but if you think I'll spare you because you have a big dick, you are sadly mistaken."

"No, Ma'am," you say, reaching down and lifting your thick cock and heavy balls. You shiver as the cool air washes over your hot, wet slit, your swollen lips tingling.

The woman's eyes widen, her jaw dropping as she stares. She steps closer, leaning down to get a better look. She reaches out and you stumble back, nearly tripping over your trousers piled around your ankles. She straightens up, that hard look back on her face.

"Pull your trousers up," she said, her words clipped. "You're coming with us."