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Authors: Marie Haynes
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fascination as five distinct red markings glowed on Beth’s white skin.
“With the exchange of these gifts,” Vincent announced, “and the acceptance of the first markings, this collaring ceremony is complete. If you will all hold up your glasses and give toast to Bruce and his newly acquired slave-wife, Beth? Long may they find their joy in each other. ”
Joe raised her glass along with the others, catching Vincent’s eye, marvelling at how this unique ceremony touched her. She had witnessed a number of weddings, but none seemed as formal or heartfelt as this total giving of one’s self to another. She watched Vincent’s eyes darken. He tipped his glass in her direction before drinking his toast. Flustered, she automatically returned the gesture.
Bruce, rather than drinking from his glass, reached down to take Beth’s hand. He helped her to her feet and held the wine to her lips while she drank. Only then did he partake of the wine, draining the glass in one gulp. Shouting triumphantly, he scooped his bride into his arms and swung her about to the cheers of the guests. Joe, shaking herself out of her fog, laughed and clapped along with everyone else then got to work.
* * * *
Later, after Bruce had bundled Beth back into her cloak, whisked her away to begin their honeymoon, and the last of the guests had left, Vincent began wiping down the tables. Joe kicked off her shoes and joined him in the cleanup.
“Ouch!” she cried, lifting her bare foot.
Vincent looked up. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Guess I should leave the shoes on. Just stepped on some rice,” she answered, picking the grains from the bottom of her foot. “How on earth did Beth kneel on this for twenty minutes and not move or complain?” she mumbled.
Vincent, who had moved behind her, placed his hands on her shoulders. “She’s disciplined,” he explained. “The physical pain is a testament. An offering, if you will, to her commitment to Bruce.”
Joe paused as if considering his words before responding. “You know, until recently, if anyone had asked if I believed in all this submissive crap, I’d have called it just that—a load of crap. But after watching the folks at the last fetish night and then this ceremony, I don’t know.” She turned and looked up at Vincent.
“I think…” She licked her lips before she continued. “I think I might be beginning to understand. I wouldn’t be honest if I said I wasn’t fascinated, watching today. When Bruce raised that belt, I thought I would be appalled, but I wasn’t.” She took a deep breath then plunged ahead. “In fact, I was wondering what it would be like to be in Beth’s place. Just thinking about it, well, made me excited.”
“You don’t say,” Vincent commented quietly, his hand tightening on her shoulders. Keep her talking, he told himself. “What else makes you excited?”
“A strong man,” she admitted. “Not just physically, but a man who stands up for what he believes in, takes responsibility for his actions. A man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to go after it.”
Slowly, not wanting to scare her off, Vince ran his hands down her arms.
“Tell me more,” he encouraged.
Her voice suddenly husky, she continued. “I haven’t been with a man in a long time. I mean, discounting the other day with you.”
“Discounting that,” he mimicked, his hands reaching around to grasp her ass. Slowly, he lifted her skirt so he could touch bare skin.
She sighed and leaned against him.
His fingers probed around her silk panties, touching her outer lips. He hesitated, giving her time to protest. She didn’t. Encouraged, he explored her moistened folds, finding her hooded button. He felt her tremble and shift her weight, opening her thighs. Smiling, he flicked her clit then gently began to squeeze, tugging until it became engorged. With his other hand he explored deeper, rimming her tunnel. When he heard her sigh, he dipped first one, then two
“With the exchange of these gifts,” Vincent announced, “and the acceptance of the first markings, this collaring ceremony is complete. If you will all hold up your glasses and give toast to Bruce and his newly acquired slave-wife, Beth? Long may they find their joy in each other. ”
Joe raised her glass along with the others, catching Vincent’s eye, marvelling at how this unique ceremony touched her. She had witnessed a number of weddings, but none seemed as formal or heartfelt as this total giving of one’s self to another. She watched Vincent’s eyes darken. He tipped his glass in her direction before drinking his toast. Flustered, she automatically returned the gesture.
Bruce, rather than drinking from his glass, reached down to take Beth’s hand. He helped her to her feet and held the wine to her lips while she drank. Only then did he partake of the wine, draining the glass in one gulp. Shouting triumphantly, he scooped his bride into his arms and swung her about to the cheers of the guests. Joe, shaking herself out of her fog, laughed and clapped along with everyone else then got to work.
* * * *
Later, after Bruce had bundled Beth back into her cloak, whisked her away to begin their honeymoon, and the last of the guests had left, Vincent began wiping down the tables. Joe kicked off her shoes and joined him in the cleanup.
“Ouch!” she cried, lifting her bare foot.
Vincent looked up. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Guess I should leave the shoes on. Just stepped on some rice,” she answered, picking the grains from the bottom of her foot. “How on earth did Beth kneel on this for twenty minutes and not move or complain?” she mumbled.
Vincent, who had moved behind her, placed his hands on her shoulders. “She’s disciplined,” he explained. “The physical pain is a testament. An offering, if you will, to her commitment to Bruce.”
Joe paused as if considering his words before responding. “You know, until recently, if anyone had asked if I believed in all this submissive crap, I’d have called it just that—a load of crap. But after watching the folks at the last fetish night and then this ceremony, I don’t know.” She turned and looked up at Vincent.
“I think…” She licked her lips before she continued. “I think I might be beginning to understand. I wouldn’t be honest if I said I wasn’t fascinated, watching today. When Bruce raised that belt, I thought I would be appalled, but I wasn’t.” She took a deep breath then plunged ahead. “In fact, I was wondering what it would be like to be in Beth’s place. Just thinking about it, well, made me excited.”
“You don’t say,” Vincent commented quietly, his hand tightening on her shoulders. Keep her talking, he told himself. “What else makes you excited?”
“A strong man,” she admitted. “Not just physically, but a man who stands up for what he believes in, takes responsibility for his actions. A man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to go after it.”
Slowly, not wanting to scare her off, Vince ran his hands down her arms.
“Tell me more,” he encouraged.
Her voice suddenly husky, she continued. “I haven’t been with a man in a long time. I mean, discounting the other day with you.”
“Discounting that,” he mimicked, his hands reaching around to grasp her ass. Slowly, he lifted her skirt so he could touch bare skin.
She sighed and leaned against him.
His fingers probed around her silk panties, touching her outer lips. He hesitated, giving her time to protest. She didn’t. Encouraged, he explored her moistened folds, finding her hooded button. He felt her tremble and shift her weight, opening her thighs. Smiling, he flicked her clit then gently began to squeeze, tugging until it became engorged. With his other hand he explored deeper, rimming her tunnel. When he heard her sigh, he dipped first one, then two
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