Butt Coin Ch. 03

=========================

Warning!!!

Once again, this story takes place beyond space and time in a realm known as "Fiction" where all penises are bigger than average, there are no STD/STIs, and people have sex for a multitude of reasons that you might not agree with.

Just like with good anal sex, you shouldn't go into this story without first lubing up. It would be far less painful if you have read the first two chapters of this venture--Butt Coin and Butt Coin Ch2--before you attempt to squeeze in this story.

Also, towards the end of this story things gets a little dirty. You have been warned.

Enjoy!

=========================

After I escaped from the Brazilians--and after I kicked myself for remembering that I had to go to my ex-girlfriend Emma's wedding on the following Saturday--I went grocery shopping and then returned to my flat for a shower and a nap. I overslept again, and by the time I woke up it was 3 AM on Monday morning, so I just gave up and went to work.

Just as I expected, work was hell. Despite my pleas for help while I was in South America, no one had touched any of my projects for the last six weeks, and now my inbox was full of irate clients wanting status updates. Plus, my boss wasn't happy with me when I reminded her that I needed Friday off to travel to Scotland for my ex-girlfriend's wedding. I was hoping that she would deny my leave but since my ex-girlfriend was marrying the son of one of the partners in our firm, she approved my request.

For the next four days, I put in 15-hour days just to get somewhat caught up on just the admin stuff that got neglected while I was gone. This meant, that every night by the time I got home, Maria's shop was long shut, so I couldn't pick up my suits and I would be forced to wear the hideous matching tuxedo Emma had rented for her guests.

Although I had Friday off, I still came in at six in the morning and put in a good six hours of work, before I left at noon to pick up my rented tuxedo, and then I was off to Euston Station to catch the afternoon train to Glasgow. On the train, I got in a few more hours of work in and made it to Glasgow well after dark. From the station I took a taxi--which cost me more than the fucking train--to some castle, turned hotel, that sat on the edge of Lock Lomond, for the wedding.

It was nearly midnight by the time I checked into the hotel. I was shown to my room by the manager of the hotel, an older Scottish man with wild grey hair and a big moustache. He took me down several flights of stairs, and past the hotel's laundry services, until we reached my room. The room was tiny, with a single bed and just enough room for a toilet and shower in the corner, plus the roof had an odd slant to it.

"Let me guess, this is the worst room in the hotel?" I asked the manager.

"I like to think it has character," he said with a reassuring smile before he handed me my key card and waited around for a tip.

I pulled out my wallet and the smallest bill I had was a fifty, which I reluctantly handed to the manager of the hotel. "Is there any place where I can get something to eat?" I asked as my stomach rumbled.

"I'm afraid not, but breakfast will be served upstairs from seven to ten," he said with another reassuring smile before he turned and left me to my hovel.

"Fucking Emma," I cursed my ex-girlfriend who had undoubtedly given me the shittiest room in the hotel on purpose. "I wondered if she paid extra to short my sheets, or put rocks in my bed?"

Although I went to bed hungry and the bed was too small, I was exhausted, and I immediately passed out. When I woke up, it was around 9 AM and I was famished. I got dressed and headed upstairs to get breakfast, and I wasn't disappointed. The breakfast buffet was being served in the hotel's restaurant which had an amazing view of the Scottish Loch, but more importantly they had heaps of food. I piled my plate high, ate all that, and then went back for seconds.

I stood in front of an empty serving tray at the breakfast buffet waiting for more potatoes to arrive, when an older man with an empty plate slipped in next to me.

"You're a brave man showing your face around here," the man said under his breath.

"Moring sir," I answered back when I realized that it was Cliff. Cliff was a Partner in the firm I worked at and more importantly he was the father of the groom, Gary. "Trust me, I'm kicking myself for not letting that boa constrictor I found on site in Argentina bite me before I left. A nasty gash, some gory photos, and a long stay in an Argentine hospital convalescing might have just been enough to escape Emma's wraith for missing her wedding."

"I doubt it," Cliff snorted. "Maybe if the snake took your whole leg, then Princess Emma would have deemed your sacrifice as sufficient."

I let out a little laugh as I kept my eyes forward in case we were being watched.

"Good work in Argentina by the way," Cliff continued. "Estrada's CEO personally called the Board to tell us how pleased they were with your work. They already want you on site for phase two and three when they break ground next spring."

"Thank you, sir," I tried not to smile.

"And between you and I, there is already talk of a promotion and a little something extra in your Christmas bonus this year," Cliff tapped his nose.

"Speaking of money," I said as I took a look around at the thirty or so guests that were still eating breakfast. "If you don't mind me asking, how much did the wedding set you and your wife back?"

"Not us," Cliff wagged his finger at me. "We offered to split the bill, albeit on something a little more intimate, but Emma turned us down and she wouldn't let Gary speak to us for three months. No, all of this was paid for by Emma's mother Lady White."

"Claire is still dragging around that damn title?" I rolled my eyes. "Lord White, Emma's stepdad, has been dead for nearly ten years now."

"I know," said Cliff. "Emma and Gary, won't say how much the wedding is, but the manager of the hotel did let slip last night that it was well north of £500,000, not counting the dress, rings, and tuxedos for everyone."

"How can Lady White afford it?" I asked.

Suddenly a Scottish woman walked in from the kitchen carrying a steaming tray of fried potatoes. "Are you still waiting?" the woman asked me.

"What can I say, I just love potatoes," I said with a smile as I snatched up the ladle and began to help myself.

Cliff waited for the lady to return to the kitchen before he continued. "My wife had the same question as you. Lady White inherited that huge house in London, plus the manor house and property in Cornwall, from which she earns a small rent, but none of it's liquid. My wife thinks all of this is a power play between Emma and Clair. She thinks Emma is trying to bankrupt her mother just to get the house in London."

"Ouch," I said as I hand Cliff the ladle and I stepped out of his way. "And what does your son say about all of this?"

"Gary is a good boy and he does what he is told," Cliff said sadly as he paused a second before he decided to heap a few more potatoes onto his plate. "Are you sure, you don't want Emma back? I'll give you a million pounds sterling if you steal Emma back and run off with her before the wedding," Cliff said in a way that it was hard to tell if he was joking.

I shook my head no.

We turned around away from the tray of potatoes to see Cliff's wife giving us both the evil eye.

"I would suggest that you join my wife and I for breakfast, but...," Cliff trailed off as he looked at his wife. "Maybe that wouldn't be good for any of us. Instead, I suggest that you keep your head down and stay out of site until after the wedding, and then go to your room, lock the door, and then get blackout drunk. That's what I'm planning to do."

"Thank you, sir," I whispered to Cliff as I veered towards an empty table far away from any of the other guest.

I ate breakfast alone and not another person in the wedding party spoke to me. It was nice.

After breakfast I retired to my room, showered, and then got dressed. Despite sending my exact measurements months ago, my trousers were too tight, as if someone mis-ordered them on purpose. Which is exactly what I suspect Emma did. Eventually with some work and the help of a bobby pin I found, I managed to pin my trousers closed. The next slight came with the cummerbund all the male guests were expected to wear, which was also a size too small. "Fucking Emma," I complained to myself.

At 11, I assembled downstairs with the other guests for a short coach ride to the chapel.

The chapel was a gorgeous old rock church with two large stain glass windows on either side of the ancient doors, that sat on top of a small hill overlooking Lock Lomond.

As the guests filed off the coach, we were directed towards the ushers who stood in front of the church, checking our invitations. I joined the queue like everyone else.

"Bride or groom?" a wide-eyed Scottish woman asked me as I stepped up to her.

"I'm not sure," I said as I looked down and read the invitation a little more clearly. I couldn't find the words 'bride' or 'groom' written anywhere on the invitation.

"Let me see," said the woman as she plucked the invitation from my hand and began to read it. "'Other?' Have you seen this before?" she turned to ask the other usher working next to her.

"Aye," he said with some sort of recognition as he looked me up and down. "He goes in the very back on the lefthand side.

I was sent to a solitary chair that sat behind the last full row of seats to sit out my punishment.

My punishment was that I once dated Emma. In fact, she was the reason why I live in the UK. We first met in university when she came to the States for school. She was tall, blond, angelic, and had a wonderfully posh accent that I couldn't help but falling for. We started dating straight away and when we graduated, she demanded I join her in the UK for graduate school.

Things were fine for a while, but it quickly became clear that she wasn't so sweet and innocent. She was completely a Type A personality which only seemed to get worse when she left school. It all probably stemmed from her being an only child with relationship issues with parents, especially her mother Claire, who was just as bad as she was.

After grad school, Emma's mother had some connections through a man she was dating at the time, and he got both Emma and I internships at the company I still work for. On the same internship program was Gary--the man Emma was marrying today--and quickly the three of us became friends. Emma was a real menace to work with. She was driven and mean, and any taste of control and power, just caused her to want more.

About five years into the relationship, I wanted out, but I knew that if I just broke up with her, it would cost me my job and probably my life. The final straw came when I lost all that money in Sven's drone dog walking business. I knew that she wouldn't handle it well, so I kept it quiet for as long as I could, until eventually an opportunity came up.

Emma and I were supposed to go assist on a massive project in Asia. At the last second, literally as we were heading to the airport, I gave myself food poisoning and was taken off the trip by the company's doctor. I suggested that Gary take my place. Then as soon as they were out of the country, and I stopped vomiting, I told Clair about how the dog business went bust, and how we would now need to put off getting married and buying a house for another couple of years. She went insane and broke off our relationship. Luckily for her, and me, Gary was there to console her, and quickly they began to date. Of course, she nearly got me deported and fired, but I survived, and I managed to slip reasonably unscathed out of her grasp, which to this day she still resented.

The wedding was much larger than I previously thought over breakfast. There were eight seats on either side of the aisle and there were twenty rows of seats, plus my single seat, which by my calculations put the guest list at a whopping 321! This made my skin crawl thinking about how close I had come to this being my wedding.

Given that Emma, Gary, and I had all worked at the same firm for several years--until Emma made Gary leave the firm to join another company with her for a sizable promotion--it wasn't surprising that I knew quite a few of the guest.

Most of Emma's oldest friends, whom I spent a great deal of time with when Emma and I were together, not surprisingly snubbed me, and wouldn't even look in my direction. Some of their boyfriends did give me a nod when they thought it was safe and their girlfriends weren't looking.

Then there were the people we all used to work with. Some broke protocol and gave me a cheerful wave, until someone would remind them that I was persona non grata, and I wasn't to be spoken too out of fear of retribution by Emma. I understood that they were in a tough spot, so I tried not to take it personal, but it stung a little.

The Church began to fill up quickly as more and more guest arrived from the hotel. As we approached the published time of the ceremony, the bridesmaids and groomsmen began to appear. I knew several of Emma's bridesmaids, but I knew none of Gary's groomsmen. They all looked strangely uniformed, like they had been picked out of a catalogue for how well they would show up in the wedding photos, rather than if Gary actually knew them. My suspicions were doubled when I spotted Gary's oldest childhood friend looking annoyed with his wife next to him, not too far from where I sat.

Eventually Gary made his way into the church along with his mother and father. His mother and father were all dressed up and were doing their very best to smile and shake all the hands they could, while their poor son looked like he was about to do a runner.

I couldn't make out what his mother was whispering in his ear over the murmurs in the church, but I guessed it wasn't good by the way she was latched onto his arm, dragging him towards the church altar where the priest, several altar boys in white, and a small choir waited.

Suddenly at the door of the church appeared a woman dressed all in white. She was tall and thin and was grinning from ear-to-ear. The whole church immediately leapt to their feet at the surprise entrance of the bride, but it wasn't her.

Immediately I knew that it was Emma's mother Claire.

Now, as the one person who had been specifically invited to the wedding to rub their nose in it by Emma, I knew that this was a low blow by her mother. The two of them famously never got along.

The whole wedding was immediately thrown into chaos as everyone in the church realized that Claire was trying to upstage her daughter on Emma's biggest day.

"No! No! No!" screamed Gary as he raced down the aisle towards Claire with his fist clinched. Gary's father grabbed him and held him back, while Gary's mom made a lunge for Lady White.

The four of them quickly fell out of the back of the church while every eye in the place was on them.

From outside the Church a scream when up that I hadn't heard in years. It was Emma.

"How can you do this to me on my wedding day!" Emma screamed from outside the church.

Suddenly over my shoulder, a heavy boulder smashed through the ornate stained-glass window and arched over the congregation, until it went thump into the side of a man I didn't recognize.

Swiftly Gary's mother through the heavy wooden doors to the church open, stuck her head back inside, and pointed directly at me, "You!" she yelled.

I immediately got to my feet and followed her out of the Church.

There in front of the Church was Emma in her long white wedding dress grappling like schoolboys with her mother Claire.

"I'll kill you!" shouted Emma who held her mother by a handful of her platinum blonde hair.

"You've always been an ungrateful bitch," Claire shouted back as she pulled the vail from Emma's head and threw it into a nearby thorn bush.

Around the two women danced Gary, his father Cliff, and Emma's father all doing very little to stop the two women from assaulting each other.

Gary's mother grabbed me by the front of my tuxedo and dragged me into the fight. While there, she unlocked and opened the door on a nearby silver Range Rover and then slapped the keys into my hands. "Get her out of here now!" Gary's mother screamed at me as she pointed towards Claire.

I scooped in between the three British men who were afraid to step in and threw an arm around Claire's waist. Claire was in her mid-50's and weighed next to nothing, so I was able to pick her up, but she wasn't happy about it.

"Let's go of me now!" Claire screamed and kicked like a mule.

I pulled Claire away from Emma, and in the process caught an elbow to the eye.

"This is fucking kidnapping!" screamed Claire as she flailed her arms and kicked at my shins with her high heels.

"You ruined my wedding!" howled Emma as she reached down and snatched up a handful of rocks that she pelted mainly me with as I carried her mother towards the Range Rover. "Today is about me, me, me!"

"I'm so sorry Emma," whimpered Gary. "This is all my fault."

"Oh, for fucks sake," yelled Gary's mother at him. "Grow a fucking pair, will you son."

"I'm a fucking lady!" screamed Claire as she continued to fight me. "The fucking king will have you beheaded for this!"

I managed to get to the Range Rover while avoiding any more elbows. Instead of helping Claire in on the passenger's side seat, I just opened up the driver's side door and threw her inside the vehicle.

"What should I do with her?" I yelled back to Gary's mom who was trying to stop Emma from attacking her son. "Just get her out of here! Take her back to the hotel or throw her in the fucking loch for all I care!"

"Right," I said.

Claire was on all fours, astride both front seats, howling mad, so I just pushed her arse over into the passenger's seat which caused her arms and head to slip off, leaving her arse-over-end in the passenger's seat footrest. I jumped in the Range Rover, fired it up, and tore off down the tiny drive that led away from the church. In the rear-view mirror, I saw Emma collapse to the ground in front of the Church and began to kick at Gary as he tried to help her up.

Claire was still arse-over-end in the seat next to me. To make things worse her dress was now over her head. I could see her lacy white panties, plus a little lip hanging out, and a Black Queen of Spades tattoo on her arse.

Once we were safely away from the church. I stopped and locked the vehicle's doors in case Claire tried to get out. "Give me your hand," I yelled, still a little worked up over what just happened, as I reached my hand down into the footrest to help Claire up.

"Fuck you!" Claire screamed back, but she did take my hand, and together we managed to pull her upright. It took her a second to right herself in the seat next to me as well as smooth down her white dress and to rearrange her platinum blonde hair. "I should have known it was you," Claire spit out as she flipped down the visor and looked at her face in the mirror. Other than a few scrapes, and a small cut across her lower lip where Emma slashed at her with her fake nails, Claire looked alright.

"It's good to see you again too Claire," I said as I tried to remember where the hotel was.

"It's Lady White to you," she said coldly.

"Whatever," I said as I tried to figure out how the Sat Nav worked. "That was some stunt you pulled back there. Showing up to Emma's wedding all in white. She'll hate you forever."

Claire smiled as she licked the blood off of her lower lip. "That little bitch deserves it. Besides why do you care? And why are you even here anyways?"