Marriage - 2

Marriage Week – Richard

   Richard here. My beloved wife wishes me to tell you about my Marriage Week first. “Marriage Week” comprises the 7 days leading up to “Marriage Day”. Both deserve proper attention.

   Marriage Week is entirely different for each gender. As I understand the matter from my limited knowledge, for brides it’s a giddy whirl of extravagant shopping expeditions, riotous parties, sumptuous brunches, and other pleasant and pleasurable activities.

   Grooms have much different experiences, with little to nothing in the way of fun. Someone, doubtless a male, called it “Penitential Purdah”. A bit extreme, yet not off the mark. My MW was traditional and typical.

   Sisters have primary charge of them, and are constantly present. They’re assisted by other female relatives and best friends, who spend hours or days in the process.

   In my case, it was Adele. The night before, she’d given me an extremely severe bedtime spanking, a shivery sensuous handbath, and such a glorious kissing-frigging that my toes curl just remembering it.

   She woke me the first morning of Marriage Week at dawn in the usual manner. If there’s a better way for a man to wake up, I’d like to hear it. With his hardening prick in the mouth of a beautiful Domina, who’s tasting it and his precum with expert discrimination.

  Adele’s Allure

   Adele was dressed – unusually - in her sexy best when she led me to the bathroom with my hard cock in her hand.

   Her statuesque beauty and intoxicating perfume were so arousing as she pointed my rigid penis to the bidet, she had to painfully pinch my scrotum several times before I was fit to piss.

   Do I have to tell you I quite naturally was constipated when Adele sat me on the toilet? Mercy. Sitting there with my anus clamped shut, all I could do is leer at her succulent feet and toes. I’d never seen, felt, and smelled her so arousing.

   That’s saying something. A young man my age is firmly bonded to his sister. Fearful lust, helpless love, fervent worship, instant obedience, and all the rest baked in the cake.

   After years of her Discipline, countless screaming spankings across her lap while fixating for dear bloody life on her feet, enough cums in her hands and mouth to fill a swimming pool or three…

   … endless hours on her lap being kissed, bathed by her, pooping for her, crying hysterically for no reason between her deep titties … you’d think my feelings and emotions for Adele couldn’t get any stronger. You’d be wrong.

  Suppository Gripes

   She gave me a suppository, my head between her legs, her finger pushing the big greasy football so deep in my guts I could taste the nasty thing. And yet, I was leering at her feet, toes in black nail polish.

   I don’t have to tell any man or boy what they already know. Suppositories are kept inside us twice as long as necessary. They sting, burn, and itch, every slow minute worse.

   When we’re finally allowed to poop, tears bathing our faces, it’s like exploding bombs dropping from us. We fart like crazy - blubbery, flubbery, moist muttery shudders between our deep fat bottomcheeks.

   We’re always so pathetically grateful when our sisters wipe us, bent over looking at … their feet again! We’re idiotically ashamed of ourselves, and think our sisters will consider us too disgusting to touch.

   We’re always somewhat surprised that, instead of walking away in revulsion, our sisters merely put us in the bathtub to bathe us. Unless we have sisters who believe in wicked morning spankings first, as most of them do.

  Manly Whines & Blisses

   Just as most of them delight in dressing us in frocks and pinafores that barely cover our fat spanked fannies. We hate that. And constantly fussing with our shoulder-length styled hair, with too much spritzing, ribbons, and barrettes. We hate that too.

   However, I never met a boy or man who complained about his sister oiling his prick, testicles, and fanny. Even if she worked the oil all the way into his rectum.

   Hell, we don’t even complain about our sisters’ spankings very much. When I was younger, boys flaunted their spanked fannies to each other, each proclaiming his sister gave the absolute worst spankings.

   As for kisses, friggings, fondlings, crying on a sister’s lap, licking inside her bottomcleft  – we don’t talk about that. Except with best friends, Mothers, favorite aunts, girl cousins, and grandmas.

   I was ruminating about all those things that first Wedding Week morning while Adele performed my T&T.

  On The Perilous Plateau - Naked

   Come to consider it, many of the early days – weeks, months, years – at the stage of life when a young man begins kneeling naked at his sister’s feet, and she begins his serious screaming spankings – I began to fall helplessly under Adele’s spell.

   Like every young man who first reaches that perilous and painful plateau, I was dizzy with dread and desire. Surrendering to Adele, to my submission to her. Overwhelmed by the authority of a big lovely young woman, and her gigantic place in my life.

   I was naked in her hands for spankings, T&T, frigging, fondling, kisses, trips to the Boys Room, gauging testicles, tucked to bed, whatever … for a solid two hours every day.

   Sometimes, maybe often, I don’t know - three hours. Whew. If you count rendering O to Adele (she’s always been particular how I suck her toes, and to this day, she still gives me horrible spankings for sloppy sucking and licking) … maybe three hours easy?

  Ensorcelled or Exhausted By Toes  

   Crap, for years I spent nearly an hour of agony across her lap every day, screaming my heart out for spankings. Just spankings alone! Not to mention other stern Discipline. No wonder I have a huge foot fetish.

   I’ll bet a boy without the slightest interest in female feet, with a big sexy sister who gives him several screaming spankings every day, who demands he keep looking at her feet in heel sandals while she does it, and commands him to suck her toes before and after … within a year, boom! His prick twitches at every female foot.

   Actually, I knew quite a few boys like that. Uninterested, repulsed, and worse. Bored with limp pricks sucking female toes, not just their sisters’. Spanked by sisters, Mothers, and relatives. Blah, limp, gagging, and bored at their feet.

   But boys have large spankable fannies, while girls and women are expert, tireless, merciless spankers.

   A girl is too young to care very much. If her brother is cute, submissive, obedient, and cries from her spankings, she’s OK with it. After all, her brother’s prick gets hard at her slightest touch. But her Mother, aunts, and grandmas are highly offended, shamed in public.

   A naked boy of the family sucking female toes with a flaccid cock. After good hard spankings. Some women go so far as to blame the family’s breeding.

   That’s when a boy’s Mother, grandmas, aunts and female cousins shine. They wear their sexy best for the boy’s spankings. They do it often, severely, and for extended times.

   His sister, a lusty young Domina, normally gives him three screaming spankings each day. That’s enough for most boys, but not him. Mother gives him two more. Female family is good for another two.

   In each instance, including with his sister now, he renders O both before and after his spankings. Before and after, he’s commanded to give thanks, devotion, and worship. During, he’s closely watched to ensure his gaze remains where it belongs.

   He’s a normal, healthy boy. Submissive, compliant, shy. Adores his sister. Needs to cum after Discipline. Helpless without females. Almost every Sunday in temple, Mother grasps his erect dripping prick, and leads him to the Crying Room.

   Rendering O with a hard dripping erection is half instinct, half encouragement. No boy does it immediately, even with a lusty foot fetish. It’s a cultural behavior appropriate to males, taught by females.

   Mother is usually first. There’s just something about a boy and his Mother.

   One day after a howling session across her lap, his fanny slathered in Salve, the boy goes to his knees. A few minutes into sucking Mother’s toes, it happens. She says nothing, sits him on her lap for kisses and frigging.

   Next day, she calls him, spanker on her lap. Mother undresses the boy, erect prick drooling. It vanishes quickly. He kneels to render O as usual, and it returns. Then or soon, he notices.

   It starts happening with his sister, who snickers. Then with other females in the family. Then with every female he encounters, eyes downcast politely on her feet.

   Adele patiently waited a few months for me. One Sunday afternoon, she called me to the bathroom and undressed me.

   “You’re getting a nice big enema. Bend hands on knees.”

   I knew what that meant, and shuddered. My sister was going to give me excruciating Discipline of some kind. So severe, I may lose control of my bowels. Thus, the enema to clean me out. I peed in fear.

   A spanking strap. Wide thick leather, stings like hornets, then it starts to really hurt. Oh how I cried and kicked my legs in anguish! Through torrents of tears, I looked at Adele’s feet in the black heel sandals she only wears to temple.

   Then I was kneeling, her big toe filling my mouth. Pungent and musky, it tasted quite like her used panties. My cockhead slid on precum along the parquet floor. Cockhead? Precum?

   Soon, my prick twitched at the sound of Adele’s heels. Mother’s. I bonded to both of them for life.

  Groom House

   That was years ago. Now I was strapped naked to a Carrier in Adele’s car, her sopping used panties in my mouth (they’re always sopping! My sister must cream her panties constantly).

   She’d crammed a huge, nubbed butt plug up my rectum. It was a living monster within me, pinching, probing, pulsing.

   On our way to a “Groom House” where men are kept for Wedding Week. Adele carried me in, Carrier and all, and put me on the floor. I couldn’t turn my neck in any direction. I could only see muscular female calves. Female chatter and laughter.

   A girl squatted down almost level with my face. She looked so young! But her deep titty cleavage looked so sexy! I wished I could see her feet.

   I felt a gentle female hand caress my twitching prick. Cunning fingers on my cockhead. Well, at least the girl knew how to handle a cock. Mother taught her, or she learned it in school.

   For some reason, girls instinctively want to handle pricks as if they were pump handles. Grasping hard, pulling hard, squeezing hard, pumping hard.

   They make the opposite mistake with ballsacks. Handle them too gently, like fine rice paper. When a Domina takes my delicate testicles, I still want to feel they’re in a female hand.

   Frigging and fondling require expertise borne of study and practice. Adele practiced on dad and me. She was too rough at first. Then she had to learn about attending to testicles, not just pricks. And cockheads need a course all their own.

   I was lifted up, my Carrier placed on a high counter. I saw female faces. Many extended family members. Oh, so frustrating. Why won’t Adele take her panties out of my mouth? I want her to unstrap me from this damn Carrier.

  Wedding Week Woes (male only)

   Mother’s voice. “Richard, in Wedding Week a groom needs to be purged of all his impurities. Cleansed, softened, massaged, lotioned, and pampered. Disciplined with the strap – the next spanking you get will be from the Bride. Other things in that direction.”

   “Basically, that’s what we’ll do for the next 7 days. Prepare you for the Bride, your future Domina.”

   Tinkling of ice. Pouring water. Oh, no! It can’t be so! My prick and testicles in ice water!

   Adele put her nose to mine. “Yes, dear brother. Cold prostate milkings until the wedding service next week. I’ll safely drain your testicles. The next real cum you get will be under the control and authority of your wife Sandra.”

   I wanted to scream. Could this get any worse?

   “Emma? Sweetie? Would you like to milk your cousin Richard? OK, good. Disrobe completely to bare feet. Give him a good look at who’s gonna milk him. No, he can’t lick your anus. He’d love that.”

   Sure enough, the young bounteous beauty who chatted with me on the floor. Ah, this is torture. I’d love to lick that wrinkled pink rose.

   Emma’s retraction of the butt plug was agonizing and slow. Silent tears of pain trickled down my face. I made a long slabby flabby fart when it came out.

   Then Emma inserted her finger up my distended rectum. Prostate massage makes me want to poop. The cold numbness of being milked, prostate, penis, and testicles. Little Emma captured every drop of cum.

   Adele was gorgeous in a green silk dress and green heels. She winked seductively in that way of hers, knowing it drives me frantic with lust. She literally knows all my buttons.

   Mother took the panties out of my mouth, index finger at her lips commanding Silence.

   Adele unstrapped me from the Carrier. Crap, it’s such a nasty bondage device. The extended bondage and lack of circulation made it impossible to stand immediately.

  Tender Adele Interlude

   My sister held me steady in her strong arms, as she always has. I was hunched over, looking at her large curving feet and toes. Hopeless wish we were home, me screaming across her lap from a terrible spanking.

   She whispered in my ear, intoxicating perfume, smell of her cunt.

   “Darling, it’s gonna be a hard week for you. Maybe it’s a bit better to know I’ll be with you every single second”. It was.

   Adele was holding her beloved Texas Ranger belt. A gift (wife’s permission) from a very old man she met in Texas on vacation. He’d taken an instant strong liking to her, and vice versa. Lamented he was too sick to get a spanking from her.

   The belt is genuine. His Mother’s. She got a new one when he and his twin sister were kids. When the time came (it came early back then) sister used it on him as a strap, doubled and full length. His sister had Disciplined him for almost 140 years, until she passed away.

   “She was a pistol, all righty. Strict as hell, caring as heaven. Sexy, scary, and … sexy-scary. I got a big boner and a bad whuppin’ every time she was near. You remind me of her.”

   Golly, Adele was only away for two weeks. I cried myself to sleep every night, constipated every morning, sniveling all day. Mother was at wit’s end.

  Groom House Rules

   The Groom House was plain, practical and utilitarian. A large log cabin. Four bedrooms, two baths, kitchen, hospitality area, study, laundry room, Discipline equipment store room.

   No Discipline Room. Thrashings were convenient anywhere. The largest bedroom was for the Groom and his sister.

   Adele kept me naked (sometimes in lotion diapers) and frequently belted for 3 days. The next 3 in a wicking body lotion suit neck to toes, and lotion diapers. She, Mother, and other females stripped me every few hours for massages.

   I got a frustrating dry kiss goodnight after she locked my cock. Adele didn’t even let me suck her toes.

   She did most of my cold milkings, which was a blessing. Adele drained my testicles so well, 3 per day was enough. My Mother and sister – mostly sister – have done every cold milking I ever had outside the Mens Clinic.

   Sometimes, to my joy, Adele did it on her lap with delicious kisses. They were problematic too, at first. Heaven help me, her spankings broke that barrier too. For both of us. It only took, hmmm, 3 or 4 spankings a day, several months … I’ll say 300 spankings. 400 tops.

   A noble effort that all twin teens go through. Adele’s sweat, effort, and devotion. My screams, tears, and fruitless leg kicking. The fanny belongs to her as much as it does me.

   And gosh, I’ll be sitting on her lap for kisses all our lives.

  I Whine – Mother Whaps

   On day 3 in the Groom Home Adele left me on Mother’s lap for a brief period. Let me tell you, after almost 3 days of constant beltings, just sitting on a Domina’s lap hurts like all heck.

   I broke down sobbing. Mother asked why.

   “Waaaa. Adele doesn’t love me. She’s so cold and mean. Waaaa.”

   Mother picked me up, placed me facing her, straddling her thigh. She looked in my eyes with piercing intensity.

   “Listen to me young man. No sister ever loved a brother more. Adele hides it, but losing you is very hard for her. Inevitable, of course, but still hard. If you harbor such an evil thought again, I’ll spank you into next month. I’m tempted to do it now, in fact. Yes, now.”

   I babbled in terror. “Buh-ber-but … I’m supposed to get beltings.”

   “Mothers don’t care about silly rules when it comes to their children.”

   I went head over fanny in the air, landing solidly across Mother’s lap. My heavens, she’s strong.

   My prick got chubby as I looked at Mother’s feet from the upside-down spanking position. The first Whap told me it was a Spanking Spencer.

   By this point of my life, I’ve endured umpteen-thousand spankings. But that’s one I’ll always remember. Thanks to mercy, there’s a video record.

   I was too busy screaming and sobbing, fanny on fire, to notice Adele return. When she’s angry, Mother punctuates each wicked Whap with a word.

   “Don’t – you – ever [my screams] – dare - think – say – or dream [my choking sobs] – anything – so vile … are you looking at my feet? … - again. Do [helpless crying, then choking on my phlegm] – you – understand – me?”

   The punishment lecture went on, but that was the tenor of things.

  My New (submissive) Attitude

   It’s odd. By that date, I’d endured many mercilessly lancinating spankings from Mother. Some felt like she was spanking my fanny to shreds.

   But from that afternoon on, I’ve responded to Mother more clearly. Fearful awe and terrified worship, leading to submissive lust. Love and respect.

   And when she walks in with heel sandals, which is most of the time – an irresistible urge to kneel to render naked greedy O, my prick twitching, spewing precum. She likes when I lick between her toes.

   Sandra thinks that’s all wonderful, the ways every son should worship his Mother. With Fear, Love, Lust, Confusion, Awe, Dripping Erections … and a few other things I can’t recall.

   (Good Grief, I’ll be lucky if Sandra only gives me a terrible spanking for that lapse. I’m scared already. And, dammit, my prick is getting hard)

   After many years, our son Evan is on the same page. In both cases, wives or daughters swiftly undress us when our Mothers appear unexpectedly.

  Married Men & Mothers

   If it’s a scheduled encounter, we can’t just be naked to make it simple. No! We have to be primped and painted, hair styled and oiled (oil is actually OK), beribboned and ringed in our piercings to an inch of our lives.

   But that’s not enough, and most men and boys hate this with humiliated passion. We have to be pretty in pinafores, fetching in frocks, plumped with layers of petticoats, and/or some other miserable fripperies fit for little girls.

   Still more. After we’ve meekly surrendered with forced glee to the above abasements, we’re punished! Well, actually, Disciplined. I’ll spit it out. Given severe spankings.

   I shouldn’t complain all that much. Every wife I know, and know of, is emphatically merciless on the subject.

   Her husband should always meet his Mother with a red-purple, welted, and swollen fanny. To show in no uncertain manner that she, the man’s wife, keeps him in his place and on his toes.

   An added attraction, from the wife’s perspective, is the universal male predicament. Soon after spankings, including the most severe, male lust and sex hunger spikes dramatically.

   Until females deal with our needs, pricks are iron-hard, precum freely flowing from cockheads. It’s miserable. Even sucking toes is a tiny relief.

   On the other hand, I must admit that Mothers adore the entire masquerade. They hold sons’ familiar rigid cocks with real enjoyment, inspect punished fannies with keen interest, and keen with pleasure having their toes thoroughly sucked and feet properly licked.

   It’s a Domina’s World.