The Marriage of Martin Hastings Ch. 01

Leanne smiled as she dismissed the attendants.

"That will be all for now. Thank you. We'll be fine while his hair is drying." She then directed her attention to Martin.

"I'll be right back," she said as she stepped out of the room.

Even though Leanne had told Martin what was happening and why it was happening, he couldn't comprehend it. He knew about arranged marriages. They were not common, but then not considered controversial in any way either. It was an accepted custom and was still law. Young women were sometimes placed in marriages that the families had arranged. Most of the time bettering the woman's social standing along with her families. The young women weren't always happy about it, and some even resisted or refused. They were all married just the same, but Martin had figured that they adjusted with time to their new social and private lives with their husbands.

He had never heard of a man being forced into such a marriage with a woman nor had he ever heard of someone being forced into a gay arranged marriage situation. Especially when one of the people wasn't even gay in nature. It just didn't make sense to him.

The door opened and Leanne and another young girl about 18 years old entered pushing a dress makers stand that was fitted with a beautiful white wedding dress. It had an extension above the dress that held the vail.

The dress was knee length with tiers of horizontal lace and ruffles about the skirt. The top of the dress was strapless, leaving the wearer with elegantly bared shoulders. The bodice was beaded with many rows of white beads and bows.

It was wheeled in and placed directly in front of Martin. The young girl unable to control a sudden burst of laughter at seeing the man sitting strapped in the chair with his nails painted red and hair rollers under the dryer. She covered her mouth with her hand as she continued to laugh as she looked away. It would have been considered rude to laugh at Martin without covering ones mouth. Laughter was frowned upon, but the Baron had made exceptions in this case. It had to be made because a man dressing as a woman to be married was so uncommon, it did instill different spontaneous reactions in people. Especially the women.

"Take it out of here. I'm not dressing up in that," he hissed as he looked at it.

"Oh yes you are Martin. This is your wedding dress. Isn't it just beautiful?" Leanne said walking in the door as the girl giggled even more knowing that this guy was going to be dressed fully as a woman here in just a short while.

"No please, take it away, I don't want to look at it," he said looking at Leanne now.

"I'll be back in a little bit and check to see if your hair is dry. I'll give you some time alone with your thoughts. Try and relax now Martin."

"NO! I refuse to go along with this Leanne. I'm a man. Let me go," he yelled at them as they left the room.

"I'm not gay," he shouted at the closed door now. He looked at the dress his fingers gripping the chair arms tightly. His eyelids dropped as he looked at his red painted toenails. "They can't make me be gay, they just can't."

"Oh my god, I don't want to do this," he said softly now to nobody tugging futilely at his restraints again.

"I don't want to be a bride." Martin sat quietly resigned now to the fact he couldn't get out of the chair. He hung his head now as he waited for the dryer to dry his hair so Leanne could create feminine curls and build a beautiful bride's updo to his once masculine hair.

"LET ME GO!" Martin yelled one last time into the empty room. The door opened slowly and a pretty young woman looked inside.

"Missy?" he said. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked as he fidgeted in the chair trying to cover himself in some way from his embarrassing situation, but unable too move. His legs were strapped to the chair his knees spread apart.

"Get me loose would you?"

"Hi Martin. I heard you call out. Are you OK?" She had a huge grin on her face as she looked him over for the first time since they had started processing him for the wedding. "Just checking in to see how you were doing," she then giggled.

"I should have known. You're part of this aren't you. Is this some kind of practical joke, because it's not funny. I'm not a bride and you know it. Let me go," he said as he jerked hard against the restraints one more time in frustration.

Missy walked into the room. She was a "socialite deluxe" you might say, but Martin saw her as the phony and the gold digger she really was. A social status climber looking for a life of luxury and wealth using her looks and sex appeal to achieve both of those goals.

Missy had always wore her hair up high on her head, pulled tightly up off her neck and ears, and teased and sprayed big in curls and it was kept platinum blonde at all times. Not a single hair was ever out of place on this woman. She always seemed as if she had just stepped out of a beauty salon and she was always attractively made up, though he felt the false eyelashes she wore and bright red lipsticks were a little much in public for a girl her age.

Today Missy was wearing designer jeans and red 5" spike heels. She wore a white peasant blouse that was unbuttoned low to reveal her ample, "store bought" cleavage. Her nails were beautifully manicured a bright, bright red and were rather long. Martin didn't find nails that long very attractive on women. It was a gaudy look in his opinion, someone just try to attract attention, and he wondered how she could even think that they looked attractive at all. She looked around as she strutted her way into the room smiling. Then she casually walked over to Martin. She bent over and began to loosen the tie around his waist on the robe he was wearing.

"What are you doing Missy?" Martin said. He panicked when she opened the robe revealing his naked shaved body. She lay the robe open and ran her fingers up his inner thigh and stopping just short of his balls. Martin jumped as she lifted his penis with two fingers.

"Stop it Missy," he snarled at her. "Stop touching me and cover me up." She smiled as she inspected the shave job done on his pubic hair. She ran her fingers over the newly shaved area above his penis and then his balls.

"Stop doing that damn it."

"Nice close shave Martin. Very smooth, and very appropriate I guess." She gave his penis a quick shake and lay the large but limp phallus over on his leg.

"What do you want?" he snarled at her, "and cover me up."

Martin hated Missy with such a passion, and with good cause. Missy was Martin's stepmother. She was also two years younger than him. Martin had just turned twenty seven and Missy was now twenty five years old. Hell, they had gone to the same high school together and even shared a class at one point.

She was twenty years old when she had married his father, who was a shipping tycoon, and she moved into Martin's life. She had always carried herself as if she was someone of social significance, but she wasn't. Even talking to Martin and treating him as if he was really her son and his father didn't seem to have a problem with that. Martin never would participate in her little social games and detested her for her arrogance. He also held her responsible for his two marriages failing. He had always felt she was the one who talked his dad into forcing him into the annulments of his previous two marriages, but they were both recorded as divorces so the women could receive alimony payments.

Martin was very conscious of being naked now that she had opened his robe. He was both irritated and humiliated at the grin on her face.

"What is her part in all this?" his mind thought. He had never been naked in Missy's presence before, much less with the added humiliation of having his body shaved and his nails polished red. He felt extremely embarrassed having to sit strapped in this chair helpless like this in front of her and she was not offering to help release him.

She grinned as she admired him and said, "Pretty toenails Martin. Nice nail polish too," she said looking down at his feet having to keep her smile from breaking into a grin. "You know, I've always said you were a real man's man, and now it looks like you're actually going to be a man's man." She giggled as she walked over to the wedding dress that was on the stand.

"What's going on here Missy?" he hissed. "Why am I really here? What are you up to now? I don't buy this marriage crap. You'd better not be filming this as some prank of yours. I will not say I agree to this just so you and your friends can laugh watching video of me saying I was willing to marry a man. Forget it. Come over here and undo these straps. Let me go. The joke is over."

"Martin.....sweetie, I am here for your wedding of course. I was contacted and asked if I'd fly here and give away the bride on your dads behalf, God rest his soul," she said as she lifted the skirt of the wedding dress and admired it.

"I'm not a bride damn it. Stop saying that." He now could see her pushing him to admit something.

"This is such a beautiful dress Martin, I mean it really is stunning honey," she smiled and turned to look at him. "I can't believe you're going to actually wear this dress down the aisle today," she looked back at him and then giggled at the thought.

"I'm not," he said breathing heavy now and feeling warm because of the dryer.

"Oh Martin, I'm sure the dress will look just lovely on you sweetheart," she laughed as she turned to face him again. Missy picked up one of the 6" white high heels that was sitting next to the dress on the floor. She held it up and turned to face Martin.

"Oh my sweetie. Look at these shoes. I can't wait to see hoe gracefully you manage these down the aisle." She looked at the shoe again.

"I'm not wearing the dress Missy. I am not going to let them humiliate me by dressing me up like a woman, and parade me down the aisle to be laughed at for some make believe wedding. This wedding thing is all bullshit. I'm done with this. Get me out of here. Unstrap me damn it," he growled. "Let my arms loose."

She looked at her nails. Taking some advantage of the situation at hand, and having to always put up with Martin's crap in the past, she was tired of him disrespecting her and trying to tell her what she should do. He should respect her wishes since she was his stepmother after all and he was the stepson.

"Martin honey, how many times have I asked you to call me mother? Hmmm?" She lifted her eyes to look at him, with a look that indicated she was in the driver seat of this conversation now.

"Are you serious? You're not my mother, for Christ sakes your two years younger than me. Why would I call you mother?" he spat out trying to twist himself in the chair now to somehow get free. "I'll call you a bitch if you like."

"Call me mother. I would like that Martin. I would like it very much. It would give our mother/son relationship much more warmth and meaning to me," she ran her finger across his cheek. "Your father agreed with me on this you know. He felt you should address me as your mother also. He told you so himself."

"WHAT? My dad suggested to me once that you would like to be called mother. I said hell no. And you and I don't have a relationship Missy. None at all. You are a crazy messed up bitch!" His anger and frustration pouring out of him now. "What are you getting out of all this? Is this all about degrading me? Saying I'm to marry a man, having me call you mother, and then trying to dress me like a girl? Your filming this aren't you. Wanting me to agree with this and humiliate myself so you can catch it on film and use it to humiliate me with your bimbo friends. Wait till I get out of here you bitch."

"Well........" Missy said with a deep sigh leaning over to close Martin's robe, "I can see you are just way too emotional right now for us to have a little talk. Would you like your robe open or closed?" she asked looking at him and smiling at her control.

"Closed," he snapped at her.

"OK," she said as she opened the robe and left Martin's penis and shaved pubes exposed. "I was hoping my son would agree with me. I'd do anything for my son you know. I imagine preparing for your wedding day and all, you are very preoccupied right now in anticipation of it all. I'll come back in a little bit. I'll give you a few minutes to settle down honey. Maybe after they have put the dress on you we can have that mother/son talk." She walked out the door, her ass making those jeans work for her.

"Wait! Missy........cover me up," Martin called to her but she didn't turn around. "MISSY!"

Martin was stunned. Had she gone mad too? Did she seriously think this was all real? She was involved and he knew it. He was so angry she had caught him in such a compromised way. Naked and defenseless, not to mention he was wearing red nail polish. He felt like she had just appraised his situation, checked him over real good, gave it some thought, given her approval and just left him there. Martin's thoughts were interrupted suddenly.

"How you doing hon? Hanging in there ok?" A middle aged woman walked in.

"What are you going to do to me?" Martin asked watching her move things around.

"Leanne is running a little late so I'm going to check your hair to see if you're dry yet." She glanced down and saw his penis. She looked away quickly concentrating her gaze on the task at hand ignoring Martin's exposed male genital.

"Excuse me,...I....First of all, could you please cover me with something? I feel very uncomfortable sitting here like this. I'm naked for Christ sakes." Martin was surprised at the woman's level of indifference to his exposed body as she ignored him.

"Just relax hon while I get this bonnet off your head," she said stretching the elastic band and pulling it over the curlers. She let him sit for a moment as she put the bonnet down. She put her palms on curlers and held them firmly for a moment.

"What the hell is going on here? This can't be happening to me," he said softly and turning his head again.

"Please hold still sir," she said turning his head back so she could continue checking his hair.

She took the roller at the top front of his head and unrolled it allowing the hair to spring back into place. She then removed another roller at the the bottom back of his head and allowed it to also coil itself back. She took a spray bottle with a light setting lotion in it and gently misted his entire head again.

"What the hell are you doing," Martin complained as his head was moved all around as she misted his hair. She then put the front roller back in his hair and did the back one next. Martin pulled his head away as she got ready to put the dryer back on his head.

"Hey," he winced as she firmly pulled his head back gripping the rollers. "Will you stop that. I don't need my hair rolled," he looked back at her. "Look I don't want my hair curled, so stop what you're doing. I want to get out of here. Get somebody in here to let me go."

"That's enough hon. You can take your issues up with someone else. I'm here to make your hair is drying properly and the curls are firmly set. You need a little more time under the dryer so just hold still while I get this dryer bonnet back on your head."

Martin sat quietly, fuming with frustration, as his entire head had been set in tight straight rows of brush rollers like some older woman in for her weekly shampoo and set at the local beauty salon. She patted the rollers with her palms. Straight rows of pink pins were the first thing Martin noticed when he saw himself in the mirror. His hair all pulled up tight on curlers.

"I look like some kind of faggot," he said to himself looking at his image in the mirror.

"OK hon hold it right there." She then slipped the hood back over his head and turned the dryer back on high. The dryer bonnet puffed up again. "There you go young man. It won't take much longer."

"Oh thank you so much. I can't wait," Martin said in a mocking falsetto voice at her.

"Your welcome sir," she said patting his shoulder as if he was being genuine and leaving the room.

"Bitch," Martin said under his breath as she closed the door.

The sound of the dryer drown out most of Martin's hearing. After about ten minutes he didn't hear her enter, but he recognized those red high heels that approached the chair. Missy was back.

Missy sat in a chair next to Martin.

"Missy, Please, what is this all about? Is this some kind of wild 'got cha' thing? If it is please stop it now. Get me out of here," he said trying to convince her to help him, and trying to convince himself now that this was and elaborate charade being played on him.

She crossed her legs slowly. "Martin, honey please, call me mother. And I can't do anything right now to change this," she said reaching for his robe.

"There...That's better," she said pulling his robe over his penis to help calm him. "Besides Martin, you will be married soon, why are you so eager to get out of this room. The groom is not suppose to see you before the ceremony anyway," she spoke as a matter of fact. "Don't you know anything about marriage traditions?"

"Who is this guy Missy? There just can't be a wedding like this, it isn't possible. There just can't be." He shook his head still in disbelief, still feeling he was being watched.

"You will see him at the ceremony sweetheart. When he lifts your veil you will be able to see him all you like," she smiled rubbing his inner thigh to calm and comfort him.

"Damn it Missy, stop talking like that. I'm not gay, and you know it. Tell them that."

"I know you're not gay Martin. You're as straight a man as I've ever known," she said softly, rubbing higher on his thigh.

"If you say this is not a joke, then why is this all happening to me? Why doesn't he find some other gay man who would like all this done to them? Why me?" he hissed.

"I guess there is no law that says you have to be a gay man to get married to another man. It's not a requirement." She chuckled slightly with her eyes down. "You'll get used to the lifestyle after awhile I suppose. I figure it will take longer for you to get accustomed to people staring at you dressed in women's clothes in public than it will the actual sexual aspects of the marriage. At least that will be kept private in your bedroom," she said looking down at his red toenails.

"Sex?....What do you mean sex..." He shook his head. The image of him being taken now crossed his mind. "Missy, Oh no. I'm not doing that. You expect me to have sex with this guy? I'm a guy and I like girls," he spat out.

"Guys do it with other guys all the time Martin," she said calmly. "I know you like girls, I guess that is going to be a little bit of a touchy situation for you in he future."

"Not me...no way I'm allowing that man to have sex with me," he hissed giving some resistance to Missy. "You can't just put a dress on me call me his wife and expect me to allow him to screw me."

"Martin, honey... I'm sorry but you must settle down and listen to me now." She adjusted herself and faced him seriously.

"This is not some kind of joke. It's all real honey." She took his hand in hers and rubbed his red fingernails as she looked at them and continued, "Once the wedding ceremony is over, you will be a legally married couple in the eyes of the law, and this man will be your lawfully wedded husband. He is going to want to have sex with his new spouse Martin, and I'm afraid that spouse is going to be you." She lowered her eyes before proceeding, "It will be his right as your husband to have sex with you. The consummation of the marriage will take place in the bedroom, and as of the wedding vows, he will be free to exercise those rights and you will be participating with him dressed in some kind of sexy women's lingerie I would assume............. and will start living life as a man who likes to dress as a woman. I know it's all confusing and all of a sudden honey. Do you understand what I'm saying?" she said in a sympathetic voice.