La Traviata

In this euphoric fog, Max was now feeling up my "titties" through my dress from behind as I with both hands behind me I fumbled to unzip and his pants and unfasten his belt. When the touch of my hands felt the flesh of his penis, Max bit my ear and said, "this is why I love you". With this whole event being staged for nothing more than Max's love of theatrics and show, my own sense of sexual desire, fueled by drugs, alcohol and egged on by Cialis, led me to drop to my knees in front of Max and pull on his hardening cock. Pretty sure this is where Max would have eventually led this staged wedding party to, a porn romp. After all, it was just Max, Father Ramos, two photographers and sweet little me, the new "Mrs. Maximillian Barriente".

Max loved producing his own personal porn and had filmed me in more than one sex scene with him and on one occasion he filmed me as a femme sex toy in high heels and a cocktail dress with two handsome, virile young males, he loved sharing me and putting me on for show. And I knew in my heart any sex dreamed up by Max was alright by me. I was not here on business; I was here because I loved being a cross dressing closet homosexual. I craved the thrill and excitement of this side of my double life. My straight, "normal" life was seeming less and less appealing by the moment. As a crossing dressing closet homosexual now made up fabulously in wedding attire and a massive buzz coursing through my body, my libido both held in check by a chastity device and simultaneously stimulated by Cialis, drugs and alcohol - sucking Max's cock was all that really mattered at this moment. I'd even suck Father Ramos' cock.

Of course, I would think that, because I knew how Max rolls. As the new "bride", feasted on Max's cock "she" reached out and felt around for Father Ramos' crotch through his priestly woolen trousers. He was getting hard as he unzipped and pulled out his own impressive cock. Pulling off Max for a moment, I devoured the good pastor's penis as he muttered "lovely, just lovely." With my voracious appetite for cock, I bobbed between both erect penises as the photographers captured every luscious moment. Admittedly, I tried to fathom all the sensory stimuli of the drugs, the chastity device and being in bridal la-la land.

Snapping me out of my obsessive cock sucking, Max pulled me up, kissed me madly, smothering my pretty lips with the force of his bearded masculinity, then told me "gawd I love you!" As he did this his hand had parted my cheeks and his middle finger slipped past the skimpy white thong then he fingered my tight bung hole (having my bung hole fingered, among the most favored sensations of mine, next to sucking cock or getting fucked) as I held on to his erect cock as I pulled on Father Ramos penis. Standing between Max and Father Ramos I had a hard cock in each hand as the photographers captured it all.

Max then put me on all fours on the divan and nuzzled his face between my lovely butt cheeks as Father Ramos on the other end impatiently forced his cock back into my mouth. As Max's tongue violated my tender, smooth, puckered hole and the wonderful nasty taste of Father Ramos penis filled my mouth, I knew. I knew, despite the cute pink chastity cage and because of all the drugs and Cialis, that this was who I really was. I hated my business forced on me by my folks and while I loved Mary, the tepid "let's get this over with" sex with her would not even move the needle compared to the fabulously fun femboy follies now being staged with Max and 'Father Ramos'.

With the amphetamines, coke and Cialis stimulating my body, my caged penis and my being, Max's tongue was taking me to places in the universe I knew not existed. As the warmth of his firm wet tongue continued to molest my smooth tender bung hole, I feasted on Father Ramos' cock with an ardor only a flaming femboy fag could fancy. Two sides of a coin. Some men are incredibly aroused forcing their masculine alpha urges upon effeminate males. Effeminate males love being beta fag bois to alpha men. Easy to know which side of the coin I was on. Tails. Or was it 'heads'? Oh, never mind. I just knew how incredibly special it was to be attended to by two horny men while I was dressed up as a ballerina fag bride.

With Max's tuxedo trousers and boxers now at his ankles I felt him finger a slippery substance at my boy cunny. To my delight, he began to mount his "bride" from behind. Pretty sure as the photographers snapped away, this aspect of a wedding party doesn't often find its way onto the wedding photo album for coffee with friends. Max held onto my waist with both hands as he emphatically butt fucked his new 'bride', the pink chastity device swinging wildly as I took cock up my ass pussy. I fucking loved every emphatic thrust Max was giving me. With Max fucking me from behind and Father Ramos face fucking my cock hungry mouth, it was as if any "straight" left in me, was getting fucked out of me from both ends. This was the real me. I hated pretending I was straight to my wife, to my business, to the world. In this haze of sex and drugs, I felt no shame. Dressed up as a pretty bride in fabulous makeup, high heels, lovely silky stockings and exquisite wedding dress taking cock from both ends..... or boring work, boring wife, boring life? Hmmmm?

Getting ravished by two big hard cocks, I was engrossed by the sensation. When you have a cock deep up your ass pussy, it is all consuming, that is where all the sexual energy you feel is centered. Such a wonderful sensation as Max's sexual energy was giving me this pleasure as my boi cunny was giving him his pleasure. As any bottom boi/fag/queer knows, this is what it is all about, it's so hot to be desired sexually like this, that a man wants to give you his cock like this, fucking you, as you play along in a female's role. Again, to be effeminate and be desired by a masculine Alpha is such a turn on; a fag knows this only too well.

Max pulled me down on the divan, onto his lap, fucking me 'reverse cowgirl', my bright pink chastity cage flopping wildly as Father Ramos reinserted his cock to my mouth. As any aficionado of gay porn knows, 'reverse cowgirl' best shows a beta taking cock. As any beta taking cock knows, 'reverse cowgirl' really is where it's at when you take cock up your boy cunny. Again, as any porn aficionado knows, 'reverse cowgirl' is the best angle showing the "fuckee" taking cock. And take cock I did, riding Max's horny stiff penis as Father Ramos fed me his cock. I was a bull riding queen (queer?) bouncing on Max's manhood when Father Ramos appeared to be getting close, pulling his cock from my mouth and masturbating himself madly. The lips would need to be refreshed anyway, but a coating of semen over Rosalie's fabulous makeup application might make me look like a trashy whore, even though I was sucking and fucking like one.

When it appeared that the good pastor was about to splatter Rosalie's fabulous makeup application in cum, I clamped down on his cock, opening wide as his moans signaled ejaculation. Nearly foaming at the mouth, a flood of gooey, astringent, warm, nasty, tasty jizz filled my mouth as Max slowed his humping long enough for me to slurp down Father Ramos' naughty nectar. I love sucking cock, I really do. With the taste of semen and lipstick permeating my senses, riding Max's cock switched my focus. He had pulled down the front of the dress and pristine white bustier, playing with my nipples and kissing the back of my neck. With Max's cock deep in my cunny, my own penis ached hard in its pretty pink prison pressing penile flesh against the confines of the pink cage as it flopped wildly to the rhythm of Max's thrusting. All these sexual theatrics were being captured on film and video for Max, myself and future generations.

As any groom would be fucking his lovely bride on their 'wedding' day, Max's arousal was peaking as he held onto my hips and began thrusting in powerful lunges. My nipples tingled from Max toying with them and his thrusting his cock violently up my boi cunny produced a long stream of moaning obscenities; "OH MY GAWD, Bobbi, Holy Fuck, Sweet Baby Bitch," to relate a few. I rode Max as my pre-cum oozed obscenely out the pee slit of the hot pink chastity device. His last thrusts coupled his rather aggressive biting my ear lobe and tonguing my ear demonstrated his satisfaction with fucking his lovely new 'wife'.

Rather than let semen run down out of my cunny and stain the pristine stockings, Max flung me face first into the divan and took a long lick at my semen sopped cunny, followed by Father Ramos molesting a few hearty licks. When finally, I was able to sit up, I stumbled into the bathroom and freshened up my lips with the lipstick and lip-gloss Rosalie had left. The strawberry blond wig was not too disheveled as I wandered back out to Max and Father Ramos sipping champagne. Max then summoned the driver, Raphael, to bring the car and take us to dinner. In the back of a fabulously restored 1940 Packard, I snuggled with Max as our 'wedding night' continued.

DINNER

As we arrived at the restaurant, all the staff, smiling and friendly, knew Max, congratulating me and Max in our wedding attire. It was almost too much for me, all the attention, along with the charade of the faux wedding. With my massive buzz reverberating, my mind was going into overdrive. The restaurant was dark, and wood paneled, almost like a pub, almost like stepping back in time and décor from thirty- or forty-years ago. Still, it was classy and expensive and fit Max's personality. The cuisine was fine dining, but cuisine from a past era, it seemed like as well. Max liked tradition and had a fondness for times past. After all, he could; he owned the restaurant.

"For my wife, a glass of Pouille Fuisse, I'll have a St.-Émilion, let Henrich choose for me," Max ordered wine.

After a few sips of wine, I was still quite buzzed from all the stimulus up until this point; being turned into a pretty bride, drugs and alcohol, a wedding romp in the hotel room with me servicing two horny men on camera. With the amphetamine and coke, I did not have much of an appetite, just a wonderful shivering sense of being in a special place that was more fabulous and dynamic than anything in my life so far. I did not feel guilty in the least about what had transpired, it just served to demonstrate a life and express my sexuality I was unable to live back home. For dinner, Max ordered for me, I was not very hungry, but I knew that it would be good to get something inside me.

"For my bride, the pan seared grouper. I'll have the filet, marchand du vin, black and blue, rissole potatoes, no vegetables, soup for me, a dinner salad for my wife," Max did not often eat greens or vegetables.

Dinner arrived with the grouper splashed with a pamplemousse beurre blanc over braised greens on a bed of risotto, and a tiny side of haricot vert. The aroma of Max's steak was divine as we dined our 'wedding' night meal. Again, my appetite was negligible, due to the amphetamines and coke, but I did manage to eat a few substantial bites, knowing food would be a good thing for me. Dinner conversation started with Max asking a question followed by a statement:

"Your wife has no idea about you?" I shook my head timidly, hoping that was the case.

"Certainly, she must have an inkling. Women find things out about men and keep the information hidden to use as ammunition later. Often, they will drop a statement seemingly out of nowhere to disorient you," Max told me.

Disarming comments by Mary did at times lead me to wonder, "am I seeing and hearing things that aren't there?" She had called me 'Natalie' more than a few times, then corrected herself. After Alan moved away, Mary once made a comment that "you seem sad since your friend moved away"; I never once told her anything about Alan. Was my dual life catching up to me?

"Women can be special; their beauty can be astounding. While I've always liked feminine, classy women, I like effeminate men more. Women are too demanding, too needy, too emotional, too drama laden. Sex is but a pawn in the game of life for women, no joie de vivre. Amongst men, in sex is there is a sensual, erotic understanding that pleasure is king, and the intimate contact is many times more powerful amongst us than with women. Feminine males have such an endearing quality. I bet you were a lovely boy," Max nuzzled his face into my ear as he told me all this, I was flattered.

Dinner ended with demitasse cups of espresso and chocolate truffles in a cocktail glass, drizzled with raspberry coulis and crème anglaise, garnished with a mint sprig. Very old fashioned, elegant, decadent; perfect for remembering the evening. Pulling out his phone, and with a text, Max summoned the driver, Raphael, who appeared with more gift boxes. Raphael put the boxes in the office where I joined Max. From the beginning of our relationship, he had been dressing me up like a Barbie doll, why should our 'wedding day' be any different.

Max helped me out of my wedding dress as I was soon standing in nothing but high heels and the lovely white hosiery....and the bright pink chastity cage over my penis, of course. What followed in the selection of my wardrobe was quite unlike anything I could have imagined, but I must say I rather enjoyed it:

A white denim half-length jacket with studs of metal and colored beads, an embroidered blue denim mini skirt, a hot pink bra under a sheer black see-through long sleeve stretchy top, hot pink string bikini panties, calf high white patent leather high heeled go-go dancer boots, white fishnet stockings using my bridal garter belt and my head topped with a lavender 'page boy' wig. Once all dressed, I looked like a street walker in Times Square.

"Are we going to Times Square?" I asked Max, who gave my bottom a firm, playful swat.

"We might," Max grinned.

Raphael drove us around in the Packard till we ended up at a seedy part of town, pulling up to a tattoo parlor. As Max and I piled out, a couple of 'brothers' on the other side of the street whistled at me. I had quite the 'hooker' look about me. However, as Max led me by the hand to the tattoo parlor door, I stopped and flat out told him:

"Max. NO! I am NOT getting a tattoo."

"No, sweetheart. I Just want you to meet Joey," Max grinned, pulling me along.

THE PARLOR

Walking into the tattoo parlor seemed fitting as an offbeat spot that Max would patronize. The place was clean inside, but archaic and old, with checkerboard white and black linoleum floor tiles, iron bars outside on the opaque windows. An old green leather chair like an old barber's chair or dentist's chair sat starkly in the middle of the small room. Max had a number of tattoos, but we were not here to get him another tattoo.

"Joey, meet my new bride, Bobbi," Max said with a grin.

Joey was tatted arms, chest and neck, younger than I expected, but with long black hair in a ponytail and piercing throughout both ears.

"Well, ain't she pretty," Joey said. "She's too purdy for a tattoo. Never seen a broad get married in an outfit like that," smirking at my clothing.

"Bobbi's lovely little nipples need some jewelry," Max replied. "We'll save the Prince Albert piercing for another time," he chuckled.

I had no idea what a Prince Albert piercing was, which was a good thing. Max had always loved my little "titties", said they were beautiful, he loved kissing, licking and pressing his cock into them. He'd asked me before to get them pierced, it was something that thrilled me, and I had always wanted to do it to express my sexuality but was hesitant because of Mary. Now it was happening. Joey locked the door and dropped all the blinds. Taking off my white denim jacket, Max helped me take off my shear top and unfastened my bright pink bra. It was erotic standing topless in the miniskirt, stockings and go-go dancer boots in front of two men. I saw myself in one of the many mirrors, being topless and pretty in my lavender wig boosted my love of expressing my sexuality, rather than a lifetime of hiding it. Max leaned forward, kissed and licked one, then the other of my pert little nipples and then I was sat by Joey in the old green leather chair.

The chill of the green leather chair made my nipples instantly turn hard. When Joey strapped my wrists to the armrests with Velcro straps, I squirmed a little bit in helplessness and uttered out a weak "please be nice." Joey and Max were grinning ear to ear as Max brought out the small silver canister, took a few snorts of coke, gave Joey a few snorts and I indulged a few hits as well, Max pressing them up my nose. What the fuck, keep the party going. The room was overly bright and stark as my buzz continued anew. There, strapped in the green chair, topless, helpless, Max kissed both my nipples wetly, then he spooned some coke over each nipple, letting the drug tingle and numb my nipples. This is how piercing is usually done, right? Joey tingled them even more, licking off the coke, then liberally dabbing my nipples with cotton balls soaked in alcohol. Grimacing at the prick of the piercing needle, I took it like a good girl.

After the process was over, my flat, pretty little titties were now adorned with two little "barbells". Joey brought a hand mirror to show me. I fucking loved them! I could have had more feminine hoop rings, but I loved the way the barbells gave my nipples stunning gayness. My arms were still strapped to the arm rest when Max unsnapped and unzipped my jeans miniskirt and pulled it down my legs, over my white go-go boots and off.

"Look," Max told Joey as he then pulled off my pink panties as well. "Let's have a little fun, Joey."

I must have had a look of fearful bewilderment as the two males looked me over with lecherous intent. They took turns fondling my pink chastity encased penis and balls as I was helpless to their toying with my wrists still strapped to the chair.

"Max, let me go," I pleaded.

"It's okay, sweetheart, we'll be nice," Max said as he placed a soft kiss on my lips.

At this point, I was not sure what I had gotten myself into, though it surpassed any boring endeavor my straight life had to offer. Joey had produced a stainless-steel rod with rounded ends about a foot long and an inch in diameter. He rubbed it with cotton balls soaked in alcohol and then dipped one end in Vaseline as Max pried my legs open. The cold metal of the stainless-steel bar touched my tight butt hole making me squirm. Can't even begin to explain how incredibly bizarre and stimulating this molestation of my boi cunny felt, especially with the buzz I had going and the strangeness of the chastity cage over my penis. It was simultaneously obscene and oh so pleasurable being tickled up my butt with greased, cold steel. My nipples ached from the piercing.

With my hands still bound, the steel rod up my privates was making my locked penis feel funny. I tingled in my chastity cage and a clear drop of pre-cum drooled obscenely out. I motioned curling my fingers for Max to come close as I whispered something in his ear. Max relented and unfastened my wrists. Taking the steel bar from Joey, I gasped "let me do it" as I fidgeted the steel bar up my butt, try to find the right spot. For a chronic masturbator, this was torture, not being able to masturbate my erect penis. As it was, my penis was pressing obscenely against the confines of the hard pink plastic chastity device.

Nothing was more obscene than the way I was slip-sliding the greasy steel bar up my hole, seeking relief. The sensation of the metal bar still had not produced an ejaculation as I had hoped when Max took the bar and handed it to Joey. Max lifted me up, sat on the green leather chair himself and took me over his lap with my cute, feminine butt facing up, in all its glory, framed by the pristine white garter belt and the white fishnet stocking. And what a cute little butt it was.