Angela's Wedding Night

by Pimpernell

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© Copyright 2007 - Pimpernell - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; M/f; bond; oral; cons; X

continues from Angela's Awakening

Angela was still rocked by her discovery that John Anders, whom she had just married, was the mysterious "Max" who had earlier so beautifully bound and so deliciously fucked her senseless. Those guests who had seen her face turn white during the signing of the register simply assumed that it was due to a sudden attack of nerves.

The remainder of the wedding ceremony and the subsequent reception for their small group of Friends & Family flew by in a blur. Now, finally, the Bride & Groom bade farewell to the party, and at last Angela & John found themselves alone in their suite... appropiately enough, Room 346 of the Royal Hotel .

John took his bride in his arms, and they hungrily kissed as only newlyweds can. They tore off each other's wedding clothes and tumbled onto the same bed where "Max" had ravished her helpless body barely six months earlier. This time, however, Angela was free to enjoy Max to the full. Thirty years of restrained passion burned inside her and that night - as honeymoon couples should - pleasured each other, exploring each other's most secret places, finally collapsing into sleep.

Hours later, Angela awoke and checked her watch. 2 a.m. They had booked their flight to Barbados for 10 p.m. the following evening, so that they had loads of time to spare. A mischievous thought entered her mind, and she slowly got out of bed, being careful not to awake John.  She gathered up her flowing wedding dress and moved to the spacious bathroom. She then hunted around the suite for what she required.

Once back in the bathroom, she put on her lingerie and wedding dress, and began to wind luggage straps from their baggage tightly around her legs, trapping the beautiful satiny gown in close swirls of fabric around her lower body. Then she took a (clean !) pair of panties and wadded them into her mouth, then gagged herself with a beach scarf. More luggage straps - those that sort of rachet themselves tight - around her upper arms, and slowly tightened them until her arms were held snugly  against her body.

She slowly inched back to the bed, and lay down beside "Max" - as she had now begun to picture her husband whilst in his dom role - and tied a loop of bandage from the Hotel's First Aid Kit around one wrist. Once pulled tight, the knot would be so compressed and difficult to untie that she would be unable to do so herself. A couple of clumsy loops and knots around both wrists behind her back, and there she was -  a slave wife, held ransom to her husband's whims by her own self imposed bondage. She took a long time to drift off to sleep, smiling to herself under the gag.

Hours later, John stirred and reached out to her wife's still form. He was puzzled by the cool smoothness of the wedding gown. His hand slithered up and down her body until he came to the webbing straps holding her arms prisoner. His eyes shot open, suddenly fully awake. In the dim morning light he gazed at her. She lay there, beautifully bound by her own hand. He supposed that her intention was to have him have his way with her while helpless. Well, he smiled, She would have her wish - in His own good time !.

Angela slowly awoke, stiff and slightly sore from her bonds. The gag had certainly been a mistake, and she tried to work up some saliva for her dry mouth. She looked over to her husband, and realised that he was no longer in bed. She wondered what he must have thought, seeing her like this.

The Bathroom door opened and in came John, in PJ's, sitting down on the bed beside Angela. He smiled at her, and caressed her satin-bound form. His hand lingered on her breasts, on her torso, then up and down her legs, then stopped just short of her crotch. Her body shivered under his touch.

She smiled up at him under her gag, her hungry eyes telling him all he needed to know about what she wanted - right now !.

An evil grin spread across his face, "Uh-huh", he whispered, "Not before I have you clean, well fed and watered, just like I like my little slaves to be!".

Her eyes flashed angrily, wondering what he had in store for her.

He undid the webbing around her legs and told her to sit up. Angela refused, so he set about tickling the exposed soles of her feet. Muffled giggling erupted, and she simply had to laboriously sit up to avoid further torture.

He then led her to the bathroom, hitched up the gown and made her sit on the toilet. She refused to pee, until the threat of further tickling and the tinkle of running water from the faucet made her relent. Afterwards, he ever so slowly washed and dried her cunt, being careful not to make her come. Angela's legs felt weak and rubbery under his touch.

He then led her to the dinner table and removed her gag, sitting her down in the plush chairs. He then took the loose webbing straps and secured her to the chair at her waist and upper arms, so that she was sitting straight upright in the chair. He then checked his watch and smiled.

Then came a soft knock on the suite door. A disembodied voice called out  "Room Service !".

Angela's eyes shot open.

John opened the door and directed the bellboy to take the breakfast trolly to the dinner table. The bellboy's eyes bulged as he saw the beautiful woman in her splendid wedding gown, securely bound in the luxurious chair. Angela managed a weak smile.

The bellboy hurriedly placed the sumptuous breakfast on the table and rushed out, not even waiting for his tip.

Angela had her breakfast fed to her by Max, after which he untied her from the chair. He then led her to the bedroom, where he gave her a long, lingering kiss. He then gagged her again, gathered up her flowing skirt and raised it above her head, where he tied off the hem with a luggage strap.

Angela felt as though she was inside a huge white bubble. She felt Max lie her down on the bed, spead her legs and tie her ankles to opposite bedposts. He then caressed her upper body through the silk gown, slowly inching down to her stocking clad legs, his hands straying slowly up her inner thighs. Gentle fingers pushed aside her panties, and Max gave Angela a slow torturous licking. Her body heaved with pleasure. Just before she came, Max withdrew his probing tongue. He then made her wait for what seemed an eternity, during which she tried  to rub her thighs together in a vain effort to achieve orgasm.

Max untied Angela's ankles from the bedposts, leaving her legs spread wide. He positioned himself before her glistening wet cunt and ever so slowly entered her. He began to make love with a slow rythm which ever so slowly gained in speed and power. Angela felt that she was going to melt with the heat building in her sex. She sensed rather than felt that Max was nearing his limit, and they both climaxed violently. Angela writhed against her bonds, trying to press her body against Max, who pressed his prick so far and hard into Angela's cunt that she could swear it was going to burst. They then lay together, utterly spent, for what seemed an eternity.



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