Pauline's Diaries Ch. 02

Albert replied with a resounding, yes.

The vicar then turned to me, "Miss Sinclair, you will from this day forth, be known as Pauline Cox. You will serve your husband's needs, without objection, and comply with the order of this court, made on this day of the 16th of November 1969. The certificate of marriage in this case has already been signed and witnessed. No signatures are required from you the wife. The marriage certificate which is usually handed to the wife will be held by the husband, as in keeping with the tradition of this type of marriage. No divorce by the wife will be considered at any time in the future, as Mr Cox has been given legal and proper ownership of his wife, again as was the custom. I remind you Mrs Pauline Cox you are bound to this marriage until death. That is final ruling of the church, and this court."

I watched the vicar close the book and turn away. He walked through a door and out of sight, taking my freedom with him.

November 30th.

Mr Cox is my husband, I can say that legally, but it still chills me to the bone. It is a nightmare to be in this situation, but I have to make the best of it.

After our wedding, I say that still with disbelief, we were driven to a hotel for dinner. What transpired there after was like a living hell. I was still in my wedding gown and Mr Cox in his suit. We walked in the hotel restaurant, which was packed, and all eyes were upon us. There were murmurs of disgust by several, and a few parties got up left there and then. We sat at a table and were joined by the two men who work for my husband. They had done their best to look smart, although they failed. People watched us eat like we were some sort of freak show, from the last century, not that I had much of an appetite.

We were toasted by Dave the lorry driver with the black curly hair. He was so loud and the whole of the restaurant turned and looked. My husband grabbed my neck and forced a huge tongue filled kiss on me for over a minute. Even more people got up and left as this went on.

I got up and went to the toilet, and to my shock waiting there was Ms Taylor.

She told me she would see to it my life was made hell, then she almost smiled, and said she hope my new husband brought me much pain and humiliation, because I deserved it. She took one long look at my bulging belly, and I could see in her eyes an evilness, which will haunt me for the rest of my days, and then she left.

She frightens me, dear diary; the way she looked at my swollen stomach has me on edge. Should I come to an early demise, I hope my diaries will enlighten whoever reads them, enough that they would suspect Ms Taylor.

We went to what will be home, and I told Mr Cox what happened in the toilet. Mr Cox has assured me he will be true to his word, and send our child to a boarding school as soon as is able, for our child's own protection. He has promised me his fortune when his death comes, and in the mean time I will not want for anything.

Dear diary, I have often thought about writing in your pages of the size of Mr Cox, but I have not as yet in detail. It truly is mesmerising, and to my shame I think I am turned on by his cock. I don't know why I feel like this, because I do not like Mr Cox, but as his cum spilled from my mouth onto my tummy on our wedding night, my pussy felt waves of pleasure. My new husband's boasts to the court about his huge cock was not a lie. The head of his cock is purple in colour, and when fully erect his veins make such a ridge I can feel them with my tongue and lips. His balls seem like they are full to bursting all of the time. They remind me of a cow who is in desperate need of milking. If I was a virgin I would be terrified that Mr Cox, with his largeness, would be my first. Indeed the night of my proposal to him I was truly frightened when he desired anal sex. I have never had it there before with any other man, apart from Mr Cox on our weekend in Blackpool. I will say though to his credit, he was gentle.

Dear diary, I have married Mr Cox for money and not love, and with my last dying breath I will not allow my child to do the same.

I close my grandmother's diary, and put it back in the box. Suddenly I realise it has got dark outside, and I've been so engrossed in the events of the day, I haven't eaten. I look at the keys to the brothel. I had better phone my sis and see if she'll come with me, to look over our inheritance.