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Becca Bellamy
Becca Bellamy

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Serving the Bride-to-be Before the Wedding

It's just a few hours before your wedding and your bride invites you to her dressing room to make sure that you're truly prepared to enter into a female led marriage.

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You’ve been summoned to the bridal suite where your fiancée is getting ready. You approach and lift your hand to knock on the door but you hesitate. You’re not supposed to see her in her dress, after all. No, you have to knock. She requested your presence and your bride is not someone to disappoint.

You knock on the door and wait with your hands behind your back. A moment later the door opens and you see your beautiful fiancée standing there in a sheer white lace gown with a white bra and panty set underneath. Her blonde hair has already been styled into delicate, beautiful curls and her makeup looks flawless.

“Come in,” she says.

You step inside and wonder where her maid of honor is. With two hours before the ceremony is set to begin, you expected your bride-to-be to have people hovering around her to make sure every detail is taken care of.

“Where is everyone?” you ask.

“I’m ready early,” she replied.

Of course she is. Why would you have expected anything else? Your fiancée is the most put together woman you’ve ever met. She leaves nothing to chance. She plans everything in advance and she usually does it twice. She doesn’t like surprises, after all. She likes everything to be as she desires it, so of course her wedding day would be that way.

You open your mouth and you almost ask your fiancée why she called you to her hotel room. Then you think better of it. You know that she’ll tell you why she called you there. She’s trained you well in the 18 months since your first date.

“Come,” she says.

She takes your hand and leads you through the living area of the suite and to the bedroom. The sheets are rumpled and the bed looks as though it was recently used. That strikes you as odd given that she checked in just a handful of hours ago, but you don’t give it much thought.

“Are you absolutely certain you want to marry me?” she asks.

“Of course,” you reply.

“Despite the conditions I demanded?” she asks.

You think back to the day you proposed a little more than nine months ago. Before she accepted your ring, she made it perfectly clear that she expected to have total control in your marriage. You would live your life serving her needs and she would, in turn, make sure your needs were met. However, she would have final say over everything in your life, including the frequency and means of your orgasms. She also made sure to note that she would have sex with other men whenever she pleased and you would remain faithful.

Most men would have put the ring back in their pocket and walked away upon hearing such requests. You are not most men and your relationship was far from typical. She had already slept with other men. By that point she’d taken to making most of the important decisions. She was enumerating her expectations because she wanted to make sure you were aware that everything about your dating life would continue when you got married.

“It’s because of the conditions you demanded that I want to spend the rest of my life in service to you. I want it more than I can possibly explain,” you say.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” she says. “I have a small gift for you.”

She opens the nightstand drawer and pulls out a blue box. She holds it in front of you and slowly pulls it open. You see a metal chastity device inside.

“Remove your pants,” she says.

You unclip your suspenders and drop your tuxedo pants to the floor. Your fiancée places the box on the bed and pulls your underwear down. She places you in the chastity device with remarkable speed. It’s the first time she’s locked up your cock, but it seems likely she’s had prior experience with a chastity device.

“Is it too tight?” she asks.

“No,” you reply. “It feels okay.”

“Pull your pants up,” she says.

You do as you’re told and reattach your suspenders. Your fiancée smiles and reaches out. She grasps your now-locked cock through your tuxedo pants. She steps closer. You share a soft kiss. Her lips part. Her tongue lures yours into a sensual dance. She moans. Then you feel it. You feel the pain between your legs. You feel the pain of your cock trying to get hard in its prison.

You groan and your fiancée steps back. “I love that sound,” she says. “The sound of desperation, of pain, of a yearning to be free from the prison I’ve just placed you in.” You see the pleasure on her face. You see her lust for control. For the first time you feel a little nervous about marrying her. How far will her lust take her?

“On your knees,” she says.

You fall to your knees in front of her. She reaches out and her fingers move gently over the side of your face and under your chin.

“The best man was here before you arrived,” she says.

“Why?” you ask.

Your bride-to-be smiles. “Why do you think?” You know that smile. It’s a naughty smile. You know why he was here.

“Oh,” you say. You accepted that she would sleep with other men. You’ve always enjoyed that about her, in fact. You didn’t think she’d do it on your wedding day, though. You thought she’d let you enjoy her, and perhaps she still will.

“Does that disappoint you?” she asks.

“A little,” you answer. “I’m sorry. I know it shouldn’t. I know it’s your choice.”

She sits on the edge of the bed and spreads her legs. She inches forward. “It is my choice,” she says. “And I wanted to fuck your best man. He’s quite good, you know. Better than you, but I’m sure you already knew that, didn’t you?”

You nod. You’ve known him since college. You’re well aware of his reputation with women. He’s never met a girl he couldn’t satisfy.

“Are you upset?” she asks.

“No,” you answer. “I was a little surprised, but you know it turns me on when you sleep with other men.”

“I do know that,” she says. “Do you wish I’d invited you to watch?”

“I…I don’t know,” you say. You’ve never watched her with another man. You’ve thought about it, certainly. She’s helped conjure images of it in your mind with a wealth of dirty talk while giving you a slow, teasing handjob, but you’ve never actually watched before.

Your bride-to-be moves a hand between her legs and rubs her pussy through her panties. She moans and you stare between her legs. “You wouldn’t want to watch his big cock slide in and out of my pussy?” she asks.

You feel the ache between your legs again. “I…I don’t know,” you say. It feels too strange to admit it. It turns you on, but isn’t it weird to want to watch another man fuck her?

She pushes her fingers into her panties and moans like she’s getting fucked. You wonder if that’s how she moaned while your best man was fucking her in the bed she’s sitting in.

“He fucked me so good,” she says. “He fucked me so good on our wedding day. He came inside me on our wedding day.”

“What?” you say. Why didn’t she use a condom?

Your bride-to-be smiles at you. “That’s right,” she says. “His cum’s going to be dripping out of me as we say our vows.”

You feel a touch of anger. You don’t understand why she’d do that. She’s always used condoms with other men. You’ve always been the only one allowed to cum inside her. Now, on your wedding day, she decides she’s going to let your best man cum inside her.

She pulls her hand from her panties and stands up. “I can see your anger,” she says. “You have no right to be angry. You don’t get to be angry at me. I make the decisions. You don’t. You don’t even have a say. That’s the rule. You can offer your opinion if I ask for it, but your opinion doesn’t matter. I’m in control and I always will be. Do you understand?”

Most men would get angrier. Most men would yell, and scream, and call off the wedding. You’re not most men. You look up at your fiancée as she explains how your relationship works and you feel intense arousal. You feel a deep desire to grant her wishes. You feel a need to submit.

“Yes, I understand,” you say. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Her face softens. Whatever annoyance or anger she felt at you washes away. “It’s okay,” she says. “You still have a lot to learn. Don’t worry, though. I’ll teach you. I’ll teach you everything you need to know about being a good husband.”

She steps closer and gently pulls you against her body. You feel the soft lace of her robe and the warmth of her skin. She runs her fingers through your hair and down the back of your neck. Her touch is soothing. You could stay like that forever. You could spend hours on your knees in her embrace.

When she steps back you look up at her and you fall a little deeper in love. You’re absolutely certain you want to spend the rest of your life with this woman. You want to spend every moment of every day in service to her.

“May I…” you say, but you can’t finish the thought. You worry that it might put her off.

“You can say it,” she says. “Whatever it is, you can say it.”

“May I worship you?” you ask. “May I…may I worship your pussy?”

She tilts her head a little, as if she’s mildly confused by your question. “You know what’s inside me, right?” she asks.

You nod. You can’t quite bring yourself to say it, but you know what you’re requesting permission to do.

“And you want to worship me despite what’s inside me?” she asks.

“I want to worship you because of what’s inside you,” you say. “I want to show my devotion.”

Your bride-to-be smiles and sits on the edge of the bed. She opens her lace robe and gently spreads her legs. “You may worship,” she says.

You crawl closer and reach up to pull off her panties. You’ve done this countless times over the course of your relationship, but you’ve never done so with another man’s cum inside her. It excites you, though. That’s the only explanation for the ache between your legs. You want to do this. You want to worship her messy pussy.

She inches towards the edge of the bed and spreads her legs as her panties hit the floor. You lower your head and press your lips against her pussy. You push your tongue inside her. You taste his cum. She moans loudly. She moans like you’ve rarely heard her. Your heart soars. You’ve made your bride-to-be happy. You’ve thrilled her. Your willingness to worship her messy pussy has turned her on, just as you’d hoped it would.

You devour her pussy. You devour his cum. You lick voraciously as her moans fill the hotel room. She puts a hand on the back of your head. You love it when she does that. You love it when she takes even a little control over you. Your cock throbs painfully in the small cage it now lives in.

“That’s so good,” she says breathlessly. “Fuck, that’s so good. This isn’t the last time you’re doing this. Oh, fuck.”

She’s lost in her pleasure. You’ve done exactly as you’d hoped. You’ve made your bride-to-be happy. You’ve shown your dedication. You’ve proven that you’re willing and able to be the submissive she needs you to be.

“Oh…oh…I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” she says.

She leans forward as you worship her messy pussy. Everything goes silent for a moment and then pleasure explodes out of her. She gently pushes your head away and falls to her back in the bed. You kiss her thighs and she giggles in delight.

“That was wonderful,” she says. “Perhaps your best man will be up for leaving another surprise inside me tonight. Perhaps your first act as my husband will be making me orgasm by licking another man’s cum out of me.”

“It would be my pleasure,” you say. It’s true. It would.

“You can go now,” she says. “It’s almost time for me to put on my dress.”

You stand. “Thank you for letting me worship,” you say.

“It was my pleasure,” she says. “I’ll see you soon.”

You turn and leave with the taste of another man’s cum in your mouth and a painful ache between your legs. Most men would find that horrifying. You find it thrilling. You can’t wait to be her submissive husband.

Serving the Bride-to-be Before the Wedding

Comments

Please, please more like this one.

Thomas


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