The Reluctant Bride

Anal

It was the expected norm; it was how things were meant to be — or so I thought, so I was led to believe. My parents were strictly religious and although I didn’t agree with their beliefs, I respected their wishes and guarded my virtue throughout my difficult teenage years.

I found a man to love, the son of family friends and although my love was not immediately apparent, I knew that it would grow and blossom given time and the right nurturing. My wedding had been arranged for me and while I remained apart and sheltered in the months leading up to the big event, my husband-to-be felt no such compulsion, exploring his sexuality and, as I would later find, other vices.

The wedding service and reception went without a hitch and late into the evening my chief bridesmaid took me to my room to help me prepare for my husband’s arrival, leaving me alone with my thoughts to wait nervously. She had chosen for me the long flowing gown that I wore, gossamer fine lace that shrouded me from neck to toe, covering me entirely, but hiding nothing. And I waited.

I awoke with a start; there was a rattling at the door and drunken curses from without and John my husband staggered into our room holding a bottle of beer and barely able to stand. I had no idea of the time, but ran to him, standing before him, seeking his approval and without a word he tore away my night dress and groped my breast as an uncaring shopper may grab a joint of beef to test its freshness, squeezing so hard that I whimpered and pulled away. He pushed me backwards onto the bed and roughly began sucking and biting my breasts, absently spilling icy lager over me and the bed without any thought of my pleasure. I closed my eyes, enduring in silence, grateful for the brief rest bite when he stood to undress, flexing his muscles and strutting like a peacock. But despite his bravado, when he joined me on the bed and lay between my legs, his cock remained flaccid and unresponsive. I wasn’t sure what I should do; this eventuality had never been considered, but I reached down and began to gently massage him. But still he remained limp.

In shame and frustration John grabbed his beer bottle and thrust it deeply into my dry vagina and I cried out as my muscles instinctively contracted and resisted, protecting my innocence from this ugly violation. He threw away the bottle and struck me across the face, so hard that my nose bled profusely. I screamed and jumped up, but he grabbed my arm pulling me back and wiped my face with a white cotton sheet so that the following morning he might show everyone evidence of my virginal submission. He released me and I ran sobbing and crying to the bathroom, sitting on the floor with my back against the door and my face buried in a damp towel.

My fears of what he would do when bahis siteleri I returned to his bed went unanswered as he’d passed out long before I emerged from my haven and I spent that wedded first night sitting naked in an armchair wondering whether I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.

The following morning I showered early and dressed for breakfast, trying to convince myself that John had acted through drink and he was really nothing like the man I had seen the previous night. When he awoke John came to me and kissed me, apologising and begging my forgiveness, swearing that it would never happen again — and of course I believed him.

“Here.” He reached into the bedside drawer. “I was saving this surprise until this morning.”

I opened the envelope and two airline tickets fell out. “Paris?”

“I heard you tell my parents that you’d always wanted to go. We fly this afternoon.”

And I threw my arms about him, all memory of my ordeal the previous night forgotten.

That night we sat drinking champagne whilst watching a show in a club adjacent to our hotel, though I counted my husband’s drinks and felt a growing dread as the evening wore on. As the second half of the entertainment began John excused himself and told me to enjoy the performance, assuring me that he’d come back for me shortly. But the show came to an end and still he’d not returned. I searched the club but there was no sign of him and I was beginning to fret. But with the crowd thinning as the club readied to close, I heard familiar laughter from a back room and poked my head around the door to peek inside.

“Beth come inside!” John called merrily waving a hand of cards, three empty whiskey glasses by him on the table and one full. “Come and watch me clean out these losers.” He downed his scotch in one gulp and a waiter immediately appeared at his side to refill his glass.

“Come with me John,” I pleaded.

“After this hand.”

“Pleeeeaaaase.” I begged.

But he ignored me and slid a pile of chips across the table. “one thousand.” He announced confidently. Everyone folded but the beautiful and slender woman sitting directly opposite him.

“John! What are you doing?”

“Relax honey I’ve got this.”

But as he spoke I saw the woman’s cool assured confidence and felt myself shaking. “John come now. We can’t afford this.”

“Let’s make this interesting.” She smiled back at him, pushing three stacks of red chips into the centre of the table. “Fifteen thousand.”

“What?” John stared in disbelief. “I can’t match that.”

“Oh that’s a shame.” She reached out with both hands to take the pot.

“I’ll write out a cheque.”

“John! We don’t have fifteen thousand,” I blurted, “come with me now, please.”

“Sorry Mr Brychan,” the dealer canlı bahis siteleri said calmly. “We don’t accept cheques and IOU’s; you’ve played here often enough to know the rules. You can only bet what you bring to the table.”

“You’ve been here before?” I cried and at once realised that he’d booked our honeymoon here so that he might also feed your gambling addiction.

“But I have the winning hand!” He cried.

“Only if you have the means to call sir. The required amount is fifteen thousand dollars.” The dealer responded.

The woman reached forward once more.

“Wait.” He frantically searched for a solution. “My wife.”

“What?” I cried.

“John,” the woman purred, “Though I must admit I’m sorely tempted, you have been to my club often enough to know that I have any number of beautiful girls with whom I can share my bed. Why would I risk fifteen thousand for one more?”

“She’s still a virgin.” John blurted and I felt myself glowing with shame and embarrassment. “We were married yesterday,” he continued, “and we did not consummate our marriage as Beth was unwell.”

The woman laughed musically, but I was fuming inside. Not only was he treating me as his whore, he publicly blamed me for his own failing.

“Now that does offer up a number of opportunities doesn’t it?” The woman replied. “Are you offering her to me alone or for me to use in my club.”

“Either. Both.” John spat back, his only thought on how to strike a deal. “It doesn’t matter; I know you’re bluffing.”

“But your wife does not seem so keen. Perhaps she doesn’t understand the implications.”

“She will do as she is told.” John insisted, turning to me. “Take off your clothes so that she can see what I’m offering.”

I stood staring at the monster I knew him to be and back to the woman.

“That’s not how it works.” She said softly. “My girls come to me willingly, not at the command of any man.”

I was terrified, but in that moment I wanted to hurt my husband more than I cared for my dignity and I prayed that she could best his hand. I walked around the table to stand before her and slowly began to undress. “Of my own free will.” I whispered unconvincingly, glancing over my shoulder to ensure that my husband was squirming in his chair. I could feel the others present watching me, but I returned my tearful gaze to the woman who sat unmoving.

“Check. She’s a virgin.” My husband called over the murmuring.

“There’s no need.” The woman soothed; her eyes soft and compassionate. She looked up and smiled. “I will let you decide my dear. If I accept this offer and win, you will be deflowered in public at my club, by someone of my choosing. What should I do?”

I was filled with anger and loathing for my husband and fixed him with a resolute canlı bahis gaze. “Do it.”

“Very well.” She smiled. “She is mine for as long I have use of her.”

“Agreed.” And at once he threw his cards face up onto the table. “four 9’s” He announced triumphantly and the woman’s smile never faded.

I’d known as soon as she had accepted the deal that the woman wasn’t bluffing; the money in the table was hers already. “Four Jacks.” She replied, coolly spreading her winning hand out before my husband.

John jumped from his seat throwing the table up in anger and scattering chips everywhere. In the confusion he came forward menacingly but as I cowered away, the woman stood calmly and levelled a small derringer that had miraculously appeared in her hand at his head.

John stopped dead in his tracks and as she cocked the pistol a pool of urine appeared at his feet.

The woman laughed and my husband shrank away timidly.

“I think you should leave now Mr Brychan” The dealer said. “and I’m afraid you’ll not be welcome here in future.” The dealer pointed to a small flashing light in the ceiling. “And should you try to take retribution of any kind, please bear in mind that we will be retaining the security footage indefinitely.”

John stormed out leaving me naked in a room full of strangers and the woman came to me and kissed my cheek, offering me a jacket she’d taken from a waiter.

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll not hold you to our bargain. This evening’s excitement and that I have looked upon an angel such as you are payment enough. You can leave whenever you choose, go back to him if you wish — though I can’t imagine why you would want to do that.”

“I have nowhere else to go.”

The waiters had finished collecting the fallen chips and apportioned them as best they could and the woman took five $1000 chips from her winnings and gave them to me. This may help.

But I didn’t want her money. “I can’t go home and I have nowhere else to go. If I were to come with you what would you do with me?”

“Tonight I would take you to my bed, where you would rest and sleep in my arms. Tomorrow evening I would take your virginity before a cheering crowd and I would bring you such joy and pleasure that you would never wish to leave. I would make you my slave and each year on the anniversary of this night I would ask if you would like me to release you. But that will be the only time I will ask.”

“So be it.” I breathed, offering her the chips she had given me.

The woman appeared sad for a moment, but a dancing light quickly appeared in her eyes and she nodded. “Keep them. My girls all receive a generous allowance. Call it your first month’s salary. I will provide you with everything you need and you will obey me unquestioningly. You will call me Mistress and your only purpose for the next twelve months (or as long as you remain with me) is to make me happy. Now then Beth, one final time, would you still like to come with me?””

“Yes Mistress.” I replied.

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