All was ready for the wedding, the few guests would arrive in a couple of hours. I simply needed to dress, put on makeup, do my hair, and eat a little something. In other words, I needed to hurry.
I was nervous, and so glad Elena was there to help me. Elena grabbed a breakfast roll and some milk for me. While I munched on that, she opened several boxes that had been delivered earlier in the week. She took out some specially made panties to start. They were white, lacy, and very minimalistic, covering little in front and converging to a single thong strip through my ass cheeks.
Next came stockings, which were pulled up each leg slowly to make sure they didn’t bunch and appeared smooth and tight. They were sheer white, with lace at the top. A white garter belt went around my waist and held them up.
The came the dreaded corset. This was something truly unique to this wedding. Made of a heavy cloth ribbed with metal stays, it was pure white, lacy, and extremely tight and uncomfortable. Elena wrapped it around me. I raised my arms up over my head, and felt it go around my waist and chest like a soft body cast. Elena fastened the initial hooks while I held my breath. When it was in place, the top pressed my breasts up like a bra, though it didn’t cover my nipples.
I breathed some, and then Elena started lacing the back of the corset. She started at the bottom, pulling and tightening the laces, working her way up, pulling more and more tightly as she reached the top. At each yank I thought the squeezing would press my internal organs out my throat, until the next yank seemed to press on them even harder.
“Oh, god… Elena… you are doing it too tightly! I won’t be able to walk, or breathe!”
“Siobhan, dear, you know the instructions. The laces are to be pulled until the cloth meets in back. It has been measured very specifically, and I am sure Jason would not allow this if it wasn’t possible. Remember, this isn’t supposed to feel good. It is an act of submission and obedience.”
I knew what she meant. The corset was to be an instrument of suffering for me. My first, really. I would be suffering for him during the ceremony. If I couldn’t take this, there was no point in going through with the wedding.
I sucked in the air and felt the metal stays dig in to my flesh as Elena tightened the last laces. Tears came to my eyes, but it was done. I lowered my arms, and admired my shape in the mirror. I had to admit, I looked incredibly sexy, which made me feel sexy. It also hurt, as if a 100 pound weight was pressing on my stomach and chest.
The dress was next. The most lovely part of the whole process, this dress was a beautiful traditional gown, white satin with lace covering it, designed to match the corset. It rose and barely covered my breasts. I knew I would have to be careful, leaning over would expose my nipples though I could not imagine bending over in the corset. In fact, I couldn’t think about sitting in the corset.
Elena helped me with shoes, as it was impossible for me to reach my feet. The shoes were a beautiful white patent leather, shiny, with six inch heels. Jason loved heels, and I was used to balancing in them. In fact, I had even worn ballet boots around the house on several occassions. I would walk carefully, but I could manage.
The mirror showed a beautiful woman, dressed as a bride and looking as radiant as any bride could be. The shoes and corset made the outfit uncomfortable, but I also felt exhilirated. I was going to make Jason so proud of me, and be the envy of every guest. I felt sexier and more beautiful than I had ever felt.
The next half hour was spent with makeup; Elena was wonderful helping, and the result was a very natural look that hid all my facial flaws without looking artificial. I kissed her hard, on the lips, in thanks.
“Siobhan… I sure am going to miss you. I hope Jason lets us play, I will so… ” She began to cry.
Elena was not only my best friend, she was my lover. Though once I was enslaved to Jason, my relationship with her would be at his whim.
“Elena, don’t worry. Jason is not cruel. Well, he is a little, at times. But he will let us be together, I am sure of it.” We hugged and kissed again, playing with tongues but making sure my makeup would not be messed.
The veil went on, and we were ready. Or so I thought.
One last box, Elena opened it and out came a beautiful leather binder. A leather collar for the neck, a strap down the back that ended just below the shoulder blades in two wrist cuffs.
I was to be bound at the ceremony. I should have expected this.
The collar went on, and once comfortably tight around my neck, Elena locked it in place with a small padlock. I didn’t see any key for the lock, I presumed Jason had it.
I placed my arms behind my back and Elena pulled them up higher, getting them into place for the wrist cuffs. They were tight as she locked them, but the leather was soft and supple, and not too uncomfortable.
Now we simply had to wait for the guests to arrive and the ceremony to begin.
We stood in the living room, looking out at the beautiful back yard. It was decorated in flowers, red and white ones, which green ivy strung through latticework. At the end of a short walkway through the grass stood Jason, his friend Steve, and the minister. The minister had been interesting to find, but we finally found just the right guy who was willing to marry and preside over a willing enslavement. Eight guests lined the walkway, ready for us to join them.
As music played, Elena walked down the pathway and stepped to the side opposite Steve. I then walked down the path, my arms bound behind me, my beautiful dress covering the severe corset, my head bowed in a submissive attitude. I walked very slowly, because the very high heels were difficult to manage with the restraint corset and my arms cuffed behind me. When I reached the front, I turned and faced Jason, though I continued to keep my head bowed.
The minister began.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are hear today to witness the joining together of these two individuals in a binding relationship, born of love and desire. More binding, closer, and more intimate than any mere marriage, this man and woman are to be joined together as man and wife, and as master and slave. Let none here take this lightly, for it is a commitment of the highest order for both Jason and Siobhan.”
He looked at me, and addressed me.
“Please kneel before your master.”
I knelt slowly, trying not to fall over. I kept my head bowed, and looked at Jason’s shoes. The corset dug in to my flesh under my arms, though the cramps in my calves from the high heels left once I was kneeling.
The minister addressed Jason, and had him repeat:
“I, Jason, take you, Siobhan, to be my wife, my slave, my faithful submissive and my love from this day forward. In the presence of our family and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful and fair master in all things, to train and discipline you, and to care for you as my dear possession. I promise to to treat you fairly, to guide you in my will, and to cherish your submission for as long as we both shall live.”
In turn, I was addressed and repeated my vow:
“I, Siobhan, take you, Jason, to be my husband, my master, my owner and my love from this day forward. In the presence of our family and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful slave, to obey your will at all times, and submit to your training and discipline to my best ability. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and obey, to serve and to cherish you as my master for as long as we both shall live.”
Kneeling in front of people, dressed in white, bound and squeezed, submitting and giving up my freedom to this man before me, I felt like I was about to explode. It was the most incredible feeling of happiness and arousal. I wanted him to take me, ravage me, have his way with me and then discipline me, hurt me, make me suffer for his pleasure, right then. But I took my vow seriously, and knelt before him, awaiting his will.
The minister asked “Do you have the ring?”
Jason answered, “I do.”
The next moment, I felt him reaching down, taking my chin for me to look up. He was reaching down with a circular thin metal ring, about 6 inches in diameter. He slipped it around my neck, and snapped it in to place in the back. It was a slave collar, a thin metal one.
The minister addressed me. “Do you have your ring?”
“Yes, sir.” I felt Elena slip the ring in to the palm of my hand where it was fastened immobile behind my back.
“Stand and place it on his finger.”
I rose obediently, turned around with my back to him so he could give me his hand, and slipped the ring on to his finger. I turned back to him, and for the first time in the ceremony, looked at him full in the face. He was smiling at me with the biggest grin, full of love and and joy and happiness and anticipation. It made me smile as well, grinning and showing him just how wonderful this day was.
“You may… kiss the bride,” said the minister. “Or just about anything else you want to do with her now, I suppose!”
Jason kissed me deeply, and as I melted in his arms I was the happiest I had ever been in my life.
I was his wife, and his slave. He was my husband and my master. We were complete, joined together as we were meant to be. My breathing was fast, my breasts heaving up and down as we turned to the cheers of the guests.
Jason turned to me, connected a leash to my collar, and forced me to my hands and knees. I followed him, crawling behind, as he led me out of the back yard and in to the house.
It was time for the wedding reception and party; followed by the honeymoon.
Which was going to be about as unusual as any that could be imagined.
A real nice story. But i wonder how anybody can forced on hands and kneed and crawling with the arms bound behind .. ?
ReplyDeleteindeed. i saw that as well
ReplyDelete