by Ernest Greene

Originally published in HOM Bondage Magazine

Transcribed by guardian46w

Stories Codes: MF/f, bdsm, consensual, wedding, bondage, x-cross, straps, pieced, locked, tied, rope

Jessica turned to look at herself in the full length mirror.  Inclined as she was to be self-critical, even she had to admit that the effect was fairly breathtaking.  She so rarely wore white, it seemed almost as if she were looking at someone else in her wedding ensemble, such as it was.  Her outfit consisted of a long, white net veil, held in place over her auburn tresses, which had been tightly woven into a single, thick braid that reached almost to her waist in the back, by a narrow band of pearls, a brief, white satin corselet, cinched down to a perfectly uncomfortable twenty-one inches, white seamed stockings and white pumps with perilous heels.

In the place of her usual black leather collar and restraint cuffs, she wore bands of white patent, with gold hardware.  The rest of the view was all Jessica, and her natural voluptuousness was exaggerated even more by the constriction of the corselet.  Since she wore no panties, her garters and stocking tops, nicely framed the intersection of her thighs.  Her usually close-cropped patch of red curls had been shaved completely for the occasion.

A wry smile played over Jessica's broad, sensual mouth as she watched in the mirror while Pamela, serving just this one last time as her maid, fussed over Jessica's makeup.  The heavy strap-work of the red patent training harness chosen for Pamela and the other attendants was most flattering to her girlish physique and natural blond's complexion, but it didn't make her delicate labors any easier.

"I look so virginal," Jessica said drily."Yeah, right," Pamela said, "these next few days will probably be the longest time you've gone without sex in ten years."Pamela dabbed rouge into Jessica's tawny nipples with a long brush.  The right one, always the more sensitive, stiffened around its heavy, gold ring, at the touch of the soft bristles.

"Who said anything about going without sex?" Jessica asked.

"After the ceremony..."

"I'll think of something."

They both laughed.  Pamela kissed Jessica on the cheek.

"That's my mistress."

"Not anymore.  Now you're a senior slave with a serving maid of your own."

"Please, don't remind me."

"I'll bet that Lola's quite a handful."

"She was less of a pain when she was a mistress.  Who'd have thought somebody who's so good with a whip would be so low and clumsy with a garter clip?"

"She has a lot to unlearn.  Just be patient.  The way I was with you."

"Was I really that bad at first?" Pamela asked sheepishly.

"Quite hopeless.  You did all your thinking with this."

Jessica swept a hand up between Pamela's legs, getting a good grab.  Pamela yelped and jumped back out of her grasp.

"I can see its time to get those hands out of the way.  Turn around."

Jessica turned her back obediently, placing her hands palm to palm.  Pamela tossed the veil up over Jessica's head to get it out of the way so she could slip on the arm sleeve.  Made out of gleaming white patent, it slid up over Jessica's arms, pressing them firmly together behind her.  Laces and buckled straps cinched the single glove tight, so Jessica's elbows touched in the middle of her back.  Jessica shifted them slightly to help Pamela get the straps in the right places.  Jessica prided herself on the carefully maintained limberness that makes this most flattering form of restraint so natural and comfortable for her.  The buckling of more straps under the arms and across the shoulders anchored the sleeve in place.  The effect in the mirror was now truly stunning, the constriction of the single glove, thrusting Jessica's tits out even farther.

As a final touch, Pamela locked a short, lightweight gold chain between Jessica's white ankle cuffs.  Jessica took a short, hobbled step, steadying herself on her spike heels.  The hobble chain tinkled musically.  Pamela looked her up and down, making sure everything was in place.

"I guess we're ready.  I hope I haven't forgotten anything," she said.

"I swear, Pamela, you're more nervous than I am, and I'm the one getting married!"

Actually, in the legal sense, Jessica was in the process of getting married at that very moment.  A few doors down from her new quarters in the senior staff wing, Alex and Stephanie were completing the paperwork.  With the title to the rather large grant of land upon which the whole complex had been constructed, Stephanie had acquired the rights of seigneury, including the powers of a local magistrate.  In that capacity, she signed off on the documents officially joining of Jessica and Alex in legal matrimony.

Alex watched her dutifully executing the formalities in her black magistrate's robes which, being made entirely of sheer silk chiffon, did nothing to hide her spectacular figure.  In honor of the festivities, Stephanie had donned a red eye-patch in the place of her usual black one.

"I'm going to miss you," Alex said.

"We'll come back to visit.  Just as soon as I've taken a nice, long vacation."

"I hope we'll still be in business."

"Leave that part to Jessica.  She's got a good head for figures.  Just don't let the girls take too much advantage of you.  And whatever you do, make sure they don't get personally involved with the staff, okay?"

She turned and handed Alex the fat fountain pen.

"Ready to sign away your freedom?" She asked.

"Gladly!" He took the pen in hand.

The ballroom was riotous with flowers.  Stephanie and Bart had them flown in from the Capitol at staggering expense.  Garlands hung from the chandeliers.  Giant bouquets filled the dais that had been erected at the front of the room.  The air was heavy with the cacophony of scents.  A long, red carpet had been unrolled up the center of the room, and the rows of white-painted wooden folding chairs that had been set up on either side of it were already filled by guests in their bright afternoon finery.  At the end of each row, a mistress in dress leathers and a kneeling slave acted as an honor guard, lining the aisle in perfect formation.  The buzz of excited conversation subsided with the first chords of the familiar march.

The doors of the ballroom swung open.  Chairs creaked in unison as the guests turn to strain for a glimpse of the wedding party.  A murmur of approval rippled through the crowd as Jessica entered, face veiled, body displayed.  She moved with surprising grace, despite the hobble chain and the restricting single glove.  Pamela carried the leash that ran to the ring on Jessica's collar.  The blond twins Elke and Britt, on loan for the occasion from Prince Ali, to whom they had been sold at the recent auction, accompanied the bride, carefully keeping pace at her sides in the unlikely event of Jessica losing her balance.  Like Pamela, they wore the red leather training harnesses that revealed more than they concealed.  Mariko, so short a time ago Alex's personal slave, escorted the party as chief of staff, looking fit and authoritative in her new uniform.

Alex entered next, his black mess jacket accented just this once with a red rose pinned to the lapel.  Several ranking staff members, including Yoshi, who supervised physical training for the staff, and Astrid, the Teutonic beauty who ran the disciplinary unit, had come along to lend Alex their moral support.

"Still time to turn back," Astrid said under her breath.

"Too late.  The band's already been paid," Alex replied, equally soto voce.  As they made their way forward, Alex spotted many a familiar face in the crowd.  It was a little intimidating, the number of people who had passed through their little world under glass over the years.

Alex noted in passing that the former mistress Lola, the black-haired virago who had nearly proved all of their undoing before her schemes where exposed and she was demoted to the rank of a first level slave, wasn't kneeling in position, correctly.  She wasn't fully down on her heels, her knees weren't far enough apart and her back wasn't completely straight.  Pamela, under whom Lola was now serving her apprenticeship, must have noticed it too, because she shot Lola a poisonous look, making the former mistress straighten up with a visible shudder of dread.  Alex couldn't help smiling.  Justice, how he loved it.

And speaking of justice, Bart, the man who had been Alex's rival for Jessica, who had tried to buy the whole business just to get her and, failing that, had sought to undermine it through subterfuge, now sat in the front row with a big smile on his face.  Racine, Alex's new partner, now that Stephanie had sold her share, sat next to him.  Alex knew that, right after the ceremony, Stephanie and Bart would be leaving together for a leisurely tour of East Asia and the South Pacific.  Bart was nothing if not a gracious loser.

Stephanie waited on the dais in her black robes, for the party to assemble, and the music to subside.  Next to her was a small, draped table, upon which rested a beautiful, gold-mounted riding whip and a small stainless steel surgical tray with various instruments neatly laid out.  In a jar of green alcohol solution, a tiny, solid gold padlock lay soaking.  Next to the table stood a vertical X-frame, from which hung many sets of straps.  Stephanie's personal slave, the doll-like Charlotte, stood by in her red harness, pouting quietly at not being the center of attention.

When all were in place, Pamela helped steady Jessica as she sank to her knees in front of Alex.  Stephanie commenced her ceremonial duties.  As promised, her words were brief.

"Love makes its own rules," she said.  "Alex was most senior of all the staff here.  Jessica was the most senior of all the slaves.  Their love was forbidden by both regulation and custom.  And yet, it seems, the more obstacles that were put in their path, the more certain their eventual union became.  The beauty of our way of life is it assumes the inevitable violation of every law it makes.  Our kind of slavery is a secret celebration of freedom."

There was the civil boiler plate language of the official marriage ceremony, as well as the additional vows of obedience and protection between slave and master.  When Stephanie asked Jessica if she was prepared to surrender fully, Jessica whispered huskily through her veil that she did.  At that, Pamela knelt to support Jessica's shoulders as she turned her back to Alex and bent forward, offering up her bare behind.  Charlotte came forward and gave Alex the ceremonial whip.  He flexed it a couple of times in midair.  It was heavy, whooshing a subsonic note in the stillness of the hushed room.  Charlotte held Jessica's sleeved arms up, out of the way, clearing Alex's target.

Alex drew back and laid on two solid strokes, one to each cheek, in rapid succession.  The whip smacked into Jessica's bottom with short, crisp reports that echoed off the vaulted ceiling.  Jessica budged not a millimeter, though a strangled sob did emerge briefly from under the netting as the two wide, crimson stripes rose slowly on her creamy skin.

Jessica turned to face Alex again, Pamela parting the netting so Jessica could kiss the whip.  Then, bending forward ever so carefully, she kissed each of Alex's boots, lingering with a lascivious tongue, affording him an excellent view of her freshly-striped behind.  For one instant, she rolled her eyes up to his.  He knew her well enough to know that she was thinking of something really nasty.

But whatever it was, it would have to wait for the climax of the rites.  Alex helped Jessica to her feet and removed the sleeve, tossing it aside as she dutifully folded her recently freed arms in the small of her back, though they throbbed furiously from their sudden release and she dearly longed to rub them.  She was led over to the X-frame, where Mariko meticulously strapped her to the cross pieces, cinching everything up nicely so that the leather straps indented Jessica's flesh every few inches from her ankles, all the way up to her chest and arms.  With her typical attention to detail, she carefully arranged the leather-work around Jessica's costume, so to avoid rumpling it unduly.  Alex came over and stood nearby.

At a tap on a foot switch, the X inclined slowly backward with a soft whirring of electrified gears, rising as it tilted.  The chairs creaked again as the crowd leaned forward, not wanting to miss a minute of the procedure.  It had been a long time since anyone had seen Stephanie work in public.

Flicking back the full sleeves of her robe, Stephanie extended her hands so Charlotte could snap on a pair of latex gloves, straight from their sterile packaging.  The gloves were black to match her robe.  She arranged her instruments while Pamela gave Jessica's freshly-shaven parts a quick Betadine rinse from a small silver basin.  Pamela had made sure the water was nice and warm.  She wasn't surprised to find her former mistress already quite wet in that area.

Stephanie knew just what she was doing.  On either side of Jessica's outer labia, Stephanie located tiny dots made with indelible ink.  These were the spots Alex had marked.  She had trusted him to do the measuring.  Those nice, full outer lips that Alex liked so well would be a bit of a challenge.  Stephanie took each one in the jaws of a pair of forceps with open loops at the ends.  The tiny ink dots were centered perfectly in the loops of the clamps.  Stephanie was relieved she had not lost her touch.  Now for the good part.  Charlotte ripped open the autoclave envelope containing the ten-gauge piercing needles.  Stephanie took one out and held it up so it gleamed in the spotlight over the dais.  It looked big!

Alex saw Jessica swallow hard, under the collar.  He placed his hand in hers, which was held down to the X-frame at the wrist.  She squeezed his hand hard.

Stephanie brusquely ordered Pamela to hold the forceps and hold them steady.  Pamela had dreaded this.  She knelt between Jessica's spread-open thighs and took hold of the clamps.  She shut her eyes just as the needle touched.  She heard the leather groan and the frame rattle as Jessica's body went rigid.  Jessica didn't scream, for which Pamela was grateful.

In fact, the needle went through the soft tissue swiftly in Stephanie's expert hand, though it did seem to go through a fair amount of her anatomy.  The second needle went in even faster, though this time Jessica couldn't quite contain a small cry.  It was a bit worse, knowing what to expect.

The rest was elementary.  Stephanie fished the tiny gold lock out of the jar of alcohol and opened the hasp.  Deftly sliding the curve of the lock in as she slid the needles out, she passed it through both of Jessica's pierced labia and clicked it closed, effectively locking Jessica's pussy to all but the one who had the key.

Snapping off her robber gloves, Stephanie picked up a gold chain with a miniature key on it from the draped able, turned to Alex and hung the chain around his neck.  As she leaned forward, she whispered in Alex's ear.

"She's all yours, God help you.  And remember, that lock has to stay in for at least a week while the piercing heals."

They hugged for just an instant before Alex turned to assist Mariko in unstrapping Jessica from the X.  she slid loose, into his arms.  Then they kissed, for all the world like any other newly weds.  The crowd was already up out of their seats, the mad revelry that would last until the late hours would not be denied another minute.  Champagne corks were already popping like a volley of gunfire.  But for Alex and Jessica, there was no one else in the room.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Alex asked, when they were safely back in the bedroom and they could at last share openly.  He sat on the bed next to Jessica, who was bound on her knees, her face buried in the pillow, hand cuffed under her to a short chain locked to the spreader bar holding her ankles apart.  She still wore her wedding costume.  At Jessica's request, a small mirror had been placed on the bed between her thighs so she could see the lock dangling from her pierced parts.

"You wouldn't deny a girl her wedding night?" she asked, her words muffled by goose down.

"Aren't you a little sore?"

"Only in one place."

Her logic was persuasive, as was the insistent stroking of Pamela's hand under his heavy, black silk robe.  Pamela had learned a lot about Alex during her service to Jessica.  With the other hand, Pamela massaged a large dollop of shiny lubricant into the only one of Jessica's passages still unobstructed, Jessica sighed and willed herself to relax as Pamela's skilled finger tips worked their way inside the tight ring of muscle.  All tasks accomplished, Pamela rolled out of the way and knelt at attention as Alex took his place behind his slave bride.  The marks he had given her that afternoon were vivid even in the amber light of the bedside candles.  He traced them lightly as he slowly and carefully worked his way into her.  He felt the wonderful sensation of knowing that she was truly his property at last, and vice versa.

THE END