Nadya's Wedding Ch. 01

You look so gorgeous, darling, shimmering in dazzling white. The satin folds flow down across the floor behind you, and your breasts strain against the fabric from the tightness of the lacing down your back. I'm so glad we went for the figure hugging body. You have the tautest of curves and the envious whispers have been evident all afternoon. But now everyone is quiet and expectant for the final stage of the ceremony.

Everything has been set out exactly as we requested. The chairs are in concentric circles but carefully staggered so everyone has a good view. The seating plan took some debate we know, but it was important to decide who would get to gaze upon the beautiful agonies of your face in the moment of orgasm and who would be turned on more by the explicit images of you being taken by me. And we had to agree who would be in the front row where the experience would be most raw. It will be interesting to see how long they can hold off from touching themselves or perhaps those next to them. They all know the rules though that forbid anyone from moving from their seat until the ceremony is complete which is whenever you and I decide. I anticipate a long night and the most excruciating sexual tension for our guests.

We took great care to make the stage as comfortable for you as possible. It is in concept modelled on the end of the bed where I took your ass so roughly just a few months ago. But we've designed it so you can kneel and then be bent forward, over deeply padded, crimson velour. We contemplated shackles but we agreed you had the willpower to stay in position and besides I wanted your hands free to open yourself to me and the range of movement of your thighs. I think a nice touch is the heart-shaped insert of silk that will lie below your open thighs, which will catch and stain with my cum as it oozes out of you and form a permanent momento of this special day. It will also show up my cum for the better enjoyment of our guests.

And last but not least of course are the array of cameras that will capture every moment of our passion for our future enjoyment and for those not fortunate enough to be admitted but who will be watching on the huge screen outside, and will catch every gasp from you with every penetration, on the surround sound. Of course they would all have loved to have been inside with us, but they have the benefit of being able to indulge themselves with everyone else there as they get that aroused. These ceremonies always turn into a massive orgy, and indeed some are so impolite as to start fucking before we begin. But rumour has it that unofficial bookmakers have been taking bets on this being the longest and most inflamed fuck-fest of the year.

So now it is time, my darling. I am going to take off my shirt, which is the usual signal that we are to commence. And then I will hold your face gently in both hands and kiss you with all the tenderness of the world, and with the duration of eternity. I want you to drift into a state of total bliss and relaxation and, of course, submission.

Let me take you now by your hand and lead you to your place. Outside our audience can hear the amplified swishes of your train on the floor. You smile with happiness to the camera and the guests in front of you, but already they are fading in your consciousness. I help lower you into the kneel then press gently on your back to instruct you to lean over the padded edge in front.

You look so gorgeous, darling, shimmering in dazzling white. Kneeling away from me, your train spread liberally across the floor, as my cum will be spread liberally over you soon. I want to absorb this sight and let everyone else take it in too. I love you so much.

I gently lift the end of your wedding dress train from the floor, and fold it over and over, as neatly as I can but with the mass of fabric it is necessarily a mess by the time I start to uncover your perfectly toned legs. I can feel the tightness, not just in my trousers, but in the room around us. No-one wants to breathe and disturb the show. And those at the back with me are transfixed by your gradually baring legs. Outside the anticipation of the audience is being deliberately stirred by the camera going in close up on the gap between your thighs.

Another fold, spread, smooth, and pushing of the excess fabric to the sides until you start to look like a butterfly with your white wings wide from your most slender body.

Now the tension in the room is at its peak. Legs are being quietly shuffled to try to nudge straining cocks into more comfortable positions or squeeze the wetness of pussies. Someone stifles a gasp. The next fold will take your dress over your bottom. No one except you and I know for sure, but the rumour was rife that you won't have worn panties. Because they know I forbid it. And besides it would have ruined the sheer lines of your dress round your waist. The really observant could probably have worked it out by looking hard at your crotch as you came down the aisle, as we can be sure many did.

I make the next fold. And dazzling white is replaced by the sultry tan of the tautest ass in the country. A collective gasp round the room this time. Everyone has wanted to see you naked for so long. Now some of that beauty is revealed against the stark contrast of your dress. Outside the camera is still attempting to get a close up of your pussy for the audience, but they will have to be patient. You take in the hundreds of eyes upon you but without really registering them. But you want all these people to be the witnesses of the moment you officially give yourself to me, and share the pleasure you will take with them, by allowing them to watch.

Your ass is a thing of such beauty and I know I am the luckiest man in the world every day to gaze upon it as I thrust into you. But today is unique and I want to pay special homage to the woman I love. I kneel behind you and gaze up, in the position every man, and most of the women, would love to take. I let my hands rest upon your ankles then run them up along your smooth skin until finally I am caressing your bare buttocks. I could stay here for hours, tenderly teasing you, perhaps sometimes letting some fingers rest in your crack, or even dropping lower to where your wetness is rising like a mist from between your legs.

Are you ready, I wonder. I think so. I stand and take my time to release my belt, one loop at a time, from my jeans. You can't see but you can sense from the reaction in the audience and I see you slightly tense. This is good. It is better that you are slightly prepared.

You know this belt well. It is the one of mixed blues, medium width, but of course woven, so that dictates the pattern that it leaves. And it is slightly elasticated which gives it an extra twang and sharpness on the impact. It is free now of the final loop and I wrap a few turns round my right palm to make it the right length and ensure it won't slip.

You look so gorgeous darling, shimmering in dazzling white. Your bottom exposed. Your body still and slight tensed. I half sit on the bench on which you are kneeling and caress your hair. I bend my lips to your ear and tell you what we both want to hear. "I love you".

A cheer from outside. It may be they are all romantics. I suspect it is more for what they reliably anticipate will happen next. I stand back again and gaze one more time on your unparalleled beauty. I line myself up and then with a force calibrated to shock us all I whip the belt straight across both cheeks of your exposed ass.

A stifled cry in the audience - a woman cumming - would have been drowned out by your shriek if it had not continued for longer. Your fingernails have sunk into the velour and your ass is quivering but you have already largely composed yourself. And I can't resist pushing a finger to your pussy to sense how wet you have become.

I stand back and wait a moment. We all want to see the colour develop across your ass - that deepening band of red gently patinated by the contours of the fabric of the belt. The audience outside have already largely fallen silent, waiting for the next stroke, which will come very soon.

I stroke your hair again. In the same manner as when I fuck your asshole hard I want to heighten your appreciation of contrasting tenderness, so between each stroke I want you to feel the ever greatness of our love. "I love you Nadya". I stand back and strike you hard again.

I believe that over the ten strokes that you will both endure and relish, the best vantage is for those in front of you. Those behind will see the growing accumulation and depth of redness of your skin. They will see how sensitive it becomes so you can barely take the gentle touch between each stroke. And they will see the pressing bulge in my jeans that so urgently wishes to be released. But it is those in front who will see into your soul. They will share your pain as you scream on each impact and the contortions of your face as you struggle to regain control of the level of your breathing. They will, probably from the third stroke I will administer now, observe the watering of your eyes, until by the end your cheeks will be streaked and your tears will be dripping from your chin. But they will also see that strange combination of growing arousal and serenity. You are free to ask me to stop at any time if you wish but you don't because you want to show your submission, and your pussy and the pulsing of your heart are signalling an ever rising pleasure.

For the third stroke I lower my wrist slightly so my belt snaps across the particularly sensitive skin just above your thighs. Your scream hits a higher pitch that causes those close enough in front of you to momentarily recoil. The predicted dampness is evident in the corner of your eye and the first teardrop forms and begins its slow descent down your face.

I can feel your concentration and see it in the determined grip of your fingers as you manage your body's reaction to the pain and gradually overcome it. I wait until you are composed then pick up one of the butterfly wing folds of your dress and let it brush across your exposed and reddened bottom. You gasp at the amplified feeling of so gentle a touch and I know that what you really want to do now, if you were permitted, would be to sink two fingers into your pussy in the way you often show me in photographs when we are apart.

Your concentration is matched by a guy in the front of the circle who has a clear view of the goosebumps that have formed across your ass. He had watched intently as I stroked the white material across you and whatever powerful thoughts are in his mind have translated into him openly pressing and stroking the prominent bulge in his chinos. The lady next to him has noticed and now stretches a hand across and places her palm over the back of his hand and encourages him to press harder. I wonder if they came here together? Regardless, it doesn't matter, because this is a land of free love. What seems more sure is that they will be cumming together before the day is over.

I sit beside you again and run my fingers through your hair. I desire you with my all my heart and all my body. I want to hold you, kiss you and fuck you without end. But you have more strokes to take first.

Besides the liberty to disrobe, touch, kiss, lick and fuck at will, anyone they mutually chose, the audience outside had another benefit over those closer to our intimacy. Shortly after watching my belt crack its fourth welt across your stunning behind, they were shown the whole stroke again in slow motion. The screen was divided so one half was close in on your face and the other framed from your knees to the back fringe of your hair. At half speed they saw your skin pulsate on the impact, your body driven slightly forward and your back arching. And a fraction later how your face contorted with the pain and your mouth stretched wide into a high-pitched scream. They saw the way your skin went white on the initial impact as the blood was driven away, then rushed back into a bright red, gradually softening to the maroon of the previous strokes. And how the single tear drop of the third stroke was joined by a few more. And how long it seemed to take, even though it was only a few seconds, for your scream to subside and be replaced by quick breaths becoming gradually slower.

As you regain control once more you happen to glance up. In the front row directly in front of you is a particular friend we have known for some time, whose sensitivity and sensuality was the main reason, aside from our friendship, for allocating them that very special position. She had dressed most elegantly for our special day, with a lime green dress and a gorgeous hat smothered in green and white flowers, that would not have been out of place at the races. She is smiling at you, enjoying your pleasure. But you also notice - how could you fail to do so given where she is sat - that at some point during the start of your thrashing she has lifted up her skirt and tucked the material behind and under herself. Now her thighs are parted so wide that her knees are pressed against those of her neighbours on either side. And you are gazing directly at her moist slit because she, like you, has not worn any panties. You can't help but imagine your tongue between her legs and you feel your own wetness rising again. She knew it would have this effect on you.

I regain your attention with fingertips on your exposed backside. Everything about you is taut, tight and compact and your gorgeous ass especially so. It means however that it does not take many strokes from a belt an inch wide before an early strike will be overlaid with another. I am hoping that by the time I finish your whole ass will be glowing in a uniform red but despite my best efforts the accuracy is likely to result in a concentration of pain and pleasure across the centre. I stand up, close my eyes, feel the weight of the belt in my hand. I remind myself how lucky I am and how much I adore you, and perhaps it is the intensity of that feeling that adds extra power to the fifth stroke which lands pretty much on top of the first.

Your scream this time has a force which reverberates round the walls and resumes even after you first catch your breath. Your body is convulsing involuntarily. But somehow it is at this moment you notice how hard your nipples have become. Almost painfully so. But you know it will be a long while yet before you feel my lips sucking them or my fingers squeezing them. You resign yourself to shutting your eyes and concentrating on the deep arousal in them, whilst the tremors in your body slow down.

Entirely predictably, yours are not the only hard nipples in the room. Indeed I imagine most of them are. But in some cases it is now obvious because they are exposed. Take the lady in the third row to your right, for example. She is starring straight ahead, her eyes seemingly not focussed anywhere, but at some point she has slipped off her shoulders the thin straps of her dress. I guess she came without a bra which she would have known was sensible. She has beautiful breasts, quite full and remarkably pale, and it is against that paleness that the hardness of her dark nipples is so evident. She is breathing very deeply and slowly. I wonder if her hand is between her legs but I can't quite see even from my standing vantage point.

I turn my gaze back to you, the woman of my dreams and my reality, and as I do I can't help but notice another baring of breasts, happening in real time, in the front row near our friend. The woman in question is not the instigator of this action but another woman sat behind her. She has lent forward and is undoing the buttons of the blouse of the woman in front who seems very happy to let her. She is on the last two buttons as I first notice and a few seconds later she gently parts the front of the blouse to reveal the lovely nakedness behind. The woman who has been exposed makes no overt acknowledgement but nonetheless seems very happy indeed to feel both air and many eyes on her breasts.

"How are you doing, my darling?" You know it is a rhetorical question for no answer is permitted let alone expected. We are halfway through this opening chapter of our very public portrayal of our love for each other. You are everything to me and you are taking this with the strength and character I knew you would. And you know in turn that the intense heat and pain emanating from your tortured ass will convert to a kaleidoscope of pleasures over the hours ahead.