“What can I do for you,” I said and took a step toward her. “The batteries of my neurosupporting system are almost dead. I am losing the sensit...vity in my legs. Soon, I won’t be able to walk.” I blinked and stared at her, feeling that I look like an idiot right now. “Do you want me to carry you?” I asked. “I still feel strong enough to walk on my own, but it would be nice to have someone beside me till I get home. I live two blocks away from here. “ “OK. You have to recharge your. You want me to stay at home and wait for you to decide to spend some time with me. When you aren't being Peter Parker, boy photographer, you are out web swinging and wall crawling while I sit here at home and stare at the walls and wait to hear that Spider-Man has finally been whacked by some super criminal or other. I'm not going to do it any more Peter. I will have a career and you can sit home waiting from now on," and then she flounced of to the bathroom and he heard the shower start. Meanwhile, as the women spent the week arranging the wedding, Doug remained closeted with Huya working out with him the details of the changes away from slavery and the complete restructuring of the religion. As a special treat, and to show how much power the new religion had given Doug, some of the gunpowder in the bombs was sacrificed to make fireworks to show off on the wedding night. The fireworks were simple, confined to firecrackers and rockets, but these were sufficiently novel to. Some of those that I had just met didn’t believe I was a guy at all, with a couple of the women “accidentally” brushing my dick to check. Underneath my outer layer, I wore a stuffed bra, thigh high stockings, and a pair of woman’s thongs. My wife asked me about the panties, and all I could say was, “Well, might as well go all out and do it right,” which she bought. For the next couple of hours or so, the party was like any other. Eating, drinking and mingling. But somewhere around midnight.