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For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

This is a revised version of the story that I published on Smashword starting back in 2014. It is rewritten with much-added material. However, I did have to age up some of the characters so no one is underage in this version.

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Click here for Tales from the Orgy Chapter 8.

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Saturday, June 7th, 2014 – Monica Jephson – Tacoma, WA

I woke up bound by ropes and covered by blankets, the sunlight streaming through the window. My bladder was full. The need to pee was urgent.

My husband, and Master, snored next to me. I turned my head, trying to ignore the sunlight falling right on my eyes and my insistent bladder. It was still early; Jonathon wouldn’t want to be woken up before eight. He’d be displeased if I disturbed him.

He’d have to punish me.

I focused on his face as I tried to relax into sleep. The shadow of brown whiskers clung to his strong jawline, his bold nose, and powerful lips. He was a sexy man. For the last year, I was more than his wife.

I was his slave

I loved every minute of being dominated by him. Saturdays were our special day to play. We indulged in bondage throughout the week, often hiring Jessie Smith to play dominatrix with me while Kylie, our lover, entertained Jonathon. Just yesterday we had Jessie over. Sometimes, I would get to tie Kylie up and play her Mistress while Jonathon watched.

But Saturday, I let my husband keep me tied up all day long.

It actually started Friday night. Before bed, he would bind me with a rope, using complicated knots looped about my breasts—rough fibers biting into my big, round tits—then he’d loop the rope through my crotch, pulling it tight so it dug into my pussy and asscheeks. Every time I moved, the bonds rasped against my labia and clit. The rough sensation made me swoon at first. Lastly, he bound my legs together at he knees and ankles then tied my wrist behind my back.

We started our Saturdays ritual shortly after that wonderful evening when I became my husband’s sex slave. Mark Glassner himself, the Living God, graced the bank where I worked, blessed me with his cock, then awakened me to the truth: that I had to please my husband by becoming his sex slave.

That was back when my husband I both worked weekdays: him at his office job and me as a bank teller. Last August, we both quit our jobs and devoted ourselves to missionary work, spreading the Living God’s messages. Rose and Daisy Cunningham, the twin High Priestesses, ordained us themselves. They anointed us with their pussy juices and presented us with a pair of charms—small, bronze medallions set with rubies and inscribed with Hebrew letters—that were crafted by the Holy Vizier herself.

“People will view you with less hostility,” Daisy had explained. “These make people more receptive to our Gods’ message.”

With a generous donation from the twins, we leased a small retail space in a strip mall on 72nd Avenue and Golden Given near our house to establish our church. Our flock grew. Within two months, we occupied a former Christian Church down the street on Portland Avenue. Serving the Living Gods was rewarding work. Now we were constructing our permanent church, complete with a large monument to our Gods’ glory, up the street.

Those thoughts danced through my mind as I tried to go back to sleep. I wanted to ignore the mounting pressure in my bladder. But I couldn’t. Today was a special Saturday, and my excitement for tonight’s ceremony gave me a nervous energy that left me fidgeting in my restraints.

After what may have been either an hour or five minutes, I wasn’t sure, Jonathon’s eyes opened. He sat up, glancing at the clock. He groaned, and my hopes were dashed that he was going to get up early as his head plopped back onto his pillow. His arms reached out, pulling me against his chest. In moments, he snored.

A stab of indignation shot through me. He could at least be as excited as I was. Today should be special for him, too.

His half-hard cock, probably because he had to pee, pressed against my bound stomach and the ropes that crisscrossed my pale flesh. How could he ignore his bladder when I couldn’t ignore mine? It was so unfair.

Sighing, I tried to go back to sleep.

One hour or five minutes later, Jonathon again woke up. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. Then they focused on me. “Can’t sleep either, cutie-pie?”

I shook my head. “I’m too excited, Master.”

He kissed my lips. “How are your limbs?”

“Everything’s fine. I have sensation and movement.”

Jonathon nodded. He always checked to make sure the ropes weren’t causing me real harm. “I bet you have to pee. I know I have to.”

“Yes,” I moaned as I squirmed.

Jonathon sat up, stretched his muscular body, then he pivoted on the bed. He brought his half-hard dick to my lips. I submitted to his needs and opened my mouth. The crown of his cock slipped past my lips. He sighed then his piss splashed acrid into my mouth.

A naughty thrill shot through me. I savored the strong flavor—his piss was always bitterest in the morning—and swallowed as fast as I could. He groaned, letting out that sound of satisfaction as more and more of his urine flowed into my mouth.

I gulped it down, swallowing as fast as I could. My pussy clenched. A naughty thrill ran through me. I was such a devoted wife and sex slave I would do this for my husband. Proudly. I wiggled in my restraints I felt so close to my husband as I drank his pee.

We shared this most intimate moment together.

His piss kept coming, jetting into my mouth and splashing against the back of my throat. I happily gurgled as the urine sloshed around my mouth. Sadly, the stream weakened until there was only a few squirts, one or two last dribbles left, and then it was over.

“Thank you, slave-wife,” he groaned

He gripped my head and fucked his now fully hard cock in and out of my mouth. I sucked on it as he face-fucked me. I was completely helpless to stop him even if I wanted to. I didn’t. I loved every minute of feeling helpless.

I squirmed as I worshiped his cock. The ropes rasped about my body, rough fibers rubbing against my flesh. Against my naughty bits. My clit throbbed against the bonds, the hemp getting soaked by my juices. I writhed on the bed, an orgasm brewing inside me, compelling me to be so wild.

“Fucking slut!” Jonathon groaned. “Take all my cock, filthy slave!”

His degrading words added to the delight swelling inside me.

“Yes, yes, just a disgusting whore!” he growled. “A piss-drinking cunt who will do anything for me.”

Anything.

“Even let me thrust my cock down your throat!”

His hips slammed forward hard, his cock’s brushing the back of my throat. He drew back and then thrust forward with a violent grunt. His dick rammed into the back of my throat. My eyes squeezed shut as he used my mouth and esophagus for his pleasure.

I was just a thing to be used right now. A sex slave slut to be fucked. My body squirmed. My pussy was so wet while my bladder ached. I wanted to let it go and denied myself. Fighting it while his cock plunged in and out of my throat only added to my excitement.

My clit throbbed against the rope.

My pussy lips drank in the friction.

I wiggled more and more, my skin alive. Every place the rope wrapped about my body sent tingles through my flesh. My fingers curled. I moaned so loudly about my husband’s dick. My pussy soaked the hemp.

“Yes, yes, yes, just a fucking slut!” he snarled. “Damn, you’re enjoying this!”

I was.

I screamed as my orgasm ripped through me. My passion vibrated his dick thrusting down my throat. My eyes squeezed shut. Waves of bliss rippled through my body. The delight washed through my mind.

“Naughty slave!” he growled. “You’re such a whore! Cumming like a dirty slut while I fuck your throat!”

I was. Such a dirty slut.

He drew back his cock until only the tip was in my mouth. I nursed on it as my orgasm melted my brain. His torso tensed. His face twisted with rapture. Then he let out a mighty bellow. His cum erupted out of him, salty and wonderful.

I shuddered, another orgasm rippling through my submissive body as I drank his cum down even more eagerly than his piss. I loved my husband’s jizz . Whether straight from his dick, or out of Kylie’s cunt.

I wished she was here today; she often came over on Saturdays to help Jonathon degrade me.

But a bride shouldn’t be seen on her wedding day.

“Fuck!” he groaned as I nursed out the last of his cum. He ripped his dick out of my mouth.

I beamed up at him. “Thank you, Master.”

He kissed me on the lips. “I love you, Monica.”

I blushed; he wasn’t supposed to talk like that on Saturday. Well, today was special. “I love you Jonathon.”

“I bet my lovely slave wants to pee so bad?”

“I do!” I couldn’t hide the whimper “Now that my orgasm was fading, that need to urinate swelled in me. “May your unworthy slave-wife please be allowed to pee, Master?”

He scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. I was motivated to keep my slim figure just so I could enjoy being carried and tossed around like this. He carried me to our bathroom and set me down on the floor. He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out one of the magical Viagra the Holy Vizier created.

My bladder felt like it would explode. I squirmed on the floor. “Please, Master!” I begged. I strained, struggling to hold it in. “I’m about to lose it.

He hefted me up into a kneeling position, my cheek pressed against the tile of our bathroom floor, staring beneath the lip of the bathroom counter. There was dust; I would need to clean under there tomorrow.

I almost laughed; I wouldn’t be home tomorrow. We were leaving tonight for a two-week-long orgy of love and passion in the Virgin Islands. Two weeks, just the three of us. It was going to be a magical trip.

He shoved the rope digging into my pussy to the side and stabbed his cock into my sheath. “Oh yes!” I gasped, squeezing my cunt down on him. “Thank you, Master!”

I relaxed my bladder and pissed on Jonathon’s groin as he fucked me, the urine loudly splashing and dripping onto the tiled floor. It spilled so hot down my flesh. The acrid scent filled the air. I licked my lips as it kept squirting out of me, bathing us both.

He smacked my ass hard.

CRACK!

“What a dirty bitch!” he grunted. “A dirty, disgusting bitch that pisses on the floor!”

“I am!” I moaned. “Your dirty, filthy bitch! Fuck me hard, Master!”

His balls slapped into my clit hard as he pounded me. No slow, gentle strokes. We weren’t making love, we were rutting like animals. I was his bitch, and he owned my cunt. He didn’t care about my pleasure, only about cumming as deep inside me as he could.

I loved it.

My urine slowed, stopped. It dribbled down my thighs and formed a puddle on the floor around my knees. I shuddered and groaned as he pounded me. He drove his dick in and out of my pussy. He churned me up as his wet balls smacked into my clit.

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck my cunt, Master!” I howled as he reamed me. “Oh, yes, yes, yes, your cock feels so good in me!”

“Just a disgusting slut,” he snarled. “Just a filthy whore! You’re going to cum in a puddle of your own piss.”

“So hard, Master!” I howled, my pussy clenching down on him.

His words, his dick, drove me towards another climax. Being bound always made me cum so fast. My pussy clenched on his shaft, drinking in the friction of his thrusts. My body shuddered and writhed in the ropes binding them. They were soaked with the urine, too, growing tighter about my thighs. My tits swayed, both swollen from the ropes wrapped about their base.

His balls thwacked over and over into my clit. Sparks flared through my pussy. Such wondrous delight that I drank in. My eyes closed. I breathed in the acrid musk of my pee while my hips wiggled and stirred my cunt around his dick.

“Fuck me so hard, Master!” I moaned. “Use me. Cum in me!”

“I fucking will, you filthy pee-slut!” His dick thrust so deep into me, the friction massaging my snatch. “Damn!”

“Oh, yes!” I gasped as he drew back.

Before he buried back into me, my pussy climaxed. My body shuddered and my cunt spasmed about his dick. The pleasure rippled through me as his cock speared over and over into my juicy snatch. The pleasure flowed out of me and slammed into my brain.

It melt my thoughts. My body spasmed, or tried to. The ropes creaked about my flesh. The fibers bit into my skin. I felt so helpless as my strong husband’s dick plunged in and out of my cunt. My eyes squeezed shut. It was incredible. Amazing. I loved it.

“Master!” I howled. “Fuck me! Harder! I can take it! Fill me with your cum, Master!”

The pleasure burned through me. His dick slammed so hard and deep into my convulsing cunt. He kept my bliss alive. My orgasm spilled one into the other. I gasped and moaned as I ached for him to erupt in me.

“Please, dump your cum into my filthy cunt!”

“You are such a dirty slut!” he growled.

SMACK

I groaned at the heat burning across my rump.

“How dare you cum before me!” he snarled.

SMACK!

“I’m such a naughty bitch!” I gasped. “Punish me!”

He gripped my hips, pistoning rapidly in and out of me. He spanked me and fucked me. My ass grew hotter and hotter as he kept ramming into me. My orgasm kept spilling through me. I couldn’t help it.

“Yes, yes! Oh, Gods yes!” I screamed.

I squirmed before him. Ecstasy melted my mind. My cheek rubbed against the tiled floor as I humped my hips back into his thrusts. I reveled in the delicious, degrading pleasure. He used me. I was just an object to him right now.

A cum dump.

“Please, Master! Use me for your pleasure! Dump your cum in my filthy cunt!”

SMACK!

I yelped, my ass burning.

“Filthy fucking bitch!” he moaned. “I don’t think your cunt is good enough for my cum!”

“Oh, it is! Cum in me! Please!” I begged, loving this new game. “My cunt is tight and juicy!” I squeezed my spasming snatch on his cock. “Feel how warm and velvety I am. Your bitch has Grade A cunt!”

“You think this is Grade A cunt?” he sneered.

I thrust my hips wildly, pressing back into his thrusts. “See how well I fuck? Feel my pussy clamping down on you! It’s a wonderful pussy! Worthy of your cum, Master!”

“Fine,” he grunted. “I’ll cum in you this time. But your cunt is hardly worth it!”

I knew he didn’t mean them, but his degrading words triggered another powerful orgasm bursting inside me. As the rapture rippled through my body, his cock buried into me and erupted into my cunt. Warm, thick cum painted my sheath.

I whimpered as he flooded me with his jizz. My pussy writhed about his spurting cock. It was so amazing. I loved being filled by him. It was so wonderful in the world to please my husband—my Master—with my cunt.

“Damn,” he panted.

“Mmm,” I whimpered, wiggling my hips, stirring my hips around his dick.

He yanked my head up by the hair. Pain flared along my scalp. It made my cunt squeeze down on his cock. I whimpered, loving how much this hurt. He pulled me to his chest and kissed me over the shoulder, making me feel so loved.

“That was hot, cutie-pie,” he panted when he broke the kiss.

I was breathless from my orgasms, otherwise I would have answered him.

He groaned as he pulled his dick out of me. Then he spun me around on my knees so I faced him. I didn’t hesitate to lap at his cock coated in my pussy juices. Then I nuzzled down to his balls soaked by both my cream and my piss.

I shuddered, shitting in my own puddle of urine as I cleaned him up with my tongue. I bathed his balls and sucked on them. I whimpered in delight as I polished them with my hungry mouth, savoring my own acrid urine on his nuts.

Just the what a good pee-slut should enjoy.

As he started the shower, I lapped up my disgusting puddle of urine. He stepped inside, washing himself and whistling with happiness. I smiled even as I ran my tongue across the floor, tasting dirt and that bitter, ammonia flavor of piss.

I made Jonathon happy with my submission this morning. It was wroth all the humiliation.

After his shower, he tossed me over his shoulder and carried me downstairs. I yelped as he attached my nipple clamps, the sharp, aching pain going straight to my messy cunt. I shuddered as I knelt on the kitchen floor, my nubs throbbing in agony.

While I squirmed, he cooked breakfast.

That was the irony of our Saturdays; I was the slave, but he had to do all the work. There was not much I could do tied up.

It smelled like eggs and bacon. my mouth salivated as I knelt beside him on the kitchen floor. “That smells good, Master,” I purred. “Can’t wait.”

He grinned down at me.

We chatted as he cooked . The usual married couple topics: friends, family, work. The sort of breakfast conversations you’d see at any house across America. Bacon and eggs didn’t take long to make, and soon he dumped the eggs and bacon into my bowl before setting it before me. Like a bitch, I eagerly dug in with my face.

“Such a disgusting slut!” Jonathon grunted. “Like a fucking bitch!”

I shuddered, my face pressed into the food. “I am, Master!”

Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see him jerking his dick with hard and fast. I kept eating with only mouth mouth, scooping up the bacon—precut for me—and scrambled eggs into with my tongue. Jonathon groaned. Before I even ate half of it, cum splashed on the side of my face and seasoned my breakfast.

“Thank you for the sauce, Master,” I giggled, taking a bite of egg and topped with cum. “My favorite!”

“You’re welcome, slave,” he grinned. Then he wiped the tip of his cock off in my hair, leaving it matted.

I feasted on the cum-covered eggs and bacon. I reveled in them, pressing my face into them and eating up every bit. I felt so naughty. It was such a humiliating experience. My entire body quivered with delight.

As I feasted, he cooked his own breakfast. Like a bitch, which made my pussy ache and throb, I licked at my bowl, hungry for every bit of my food and for those last drops of yummy cum that he seasoned it with.

“Come on,” he said after setting his plate on the table in our breakfast nook. “Let’s go.”

I shivered in delight as he lifted me up with a grunt. He carried me beaming to the table. He shifted me around as he sat down. Then I groaned as he impaled my cunt on his hard cock. My pussy engulfed his dick, loving him in me. The magical Viagra gave Jonathon the level of stamina our God possessed, able to cum as much as he wanted before the pill wore off.

“Master,” I sighed, his arms around me. I squirmed on his lap.

He enjoyed his breakfast and my cunt around his cock. I amused myself by rhythmically working the muscles in my cunt, trying to see if I could get him to cum by clenching and relaxing my pussy around his dick.

“You are just such a tease,” he groaned as I squeezed down on him, using my Kegels to please him.

“Uh-huh,” I moaned. “A good sex slave should always be a tease.”

He grunted and took another bite of his food. I squirmed more, enjoying him being in me. It was so wonderful. He was so wonderful. I could die happy with him in me, filling me up. It was just so incredible. It made me feel so loved right now, his dick in me, throbbing and twitching as my pussy loved him.

With a groan, he pushed back his cleared plate. His hands went to my tits, squeezing them. “So, you want to be a tease, huh?”

“Yes, Master,” I moaned as his fingers dug into my swollen tits, the rope biting into them.

“Well, masters can tease their slaves,” he whispered into my ear, his voice low and dangerous.

His fingers slid up my tits to my areolas, my nipples. He seized the clamps biting into my throbbing nubs and tugged on them. My eyes widened as he stretched my breast. They looked so obscene, already red from being bound. I whimpered. The pain biting into my nipples shot down to my pussy. My snatch grew hotter while every muscle in my body tensed.

My cunt squeezed down his dick hard.

He released my clamps. I groaned, relaxing my cunt on him as the agony diminished to a dull throb that—

He pulled my clamps again. I yelped as the pain crashed through my body. My pussy clamped down on his cock again. He throbbed inside of me while I squirmed and whimpered. He let go of my nipples, my tits springing back into place.

“Master!” I moaned, the pain swelling the pleasure inside of me. “Master, that’s—”

He yanked hard.

My pussy squeezed about his cock.

He groaned.

Hot cum flooded my pussy. I gasped through the agony as I felt his jizz splash inside of my snatch. I did it. I made him cum with my pussy’s clenching and relaxing. He grunted while a surge of exhilaration shot through me.

My cunt exploded around him.

My pussy writhed faster, rippling about him as the rapture screamed through the pain to crash in my mind. I pressed my bound body back into his strong chest as I squirmed on his lap. His cum filled me. I gave him such rapture.

“I love you, Master!” I howled at the top of my lungs. “You’re amazing! You’re wonderful!”

“You’re beautiful, slut,” he growled. “Damn, that pussy! You’re so tight. So hot.”

“For you, Master!” I moaned as the pain and ecstasy danced through my mind. “For you!”

I collapsed forward, panting as my orgasm passed. He groaned, his dick twitching inside of me, still hard. I savored the buzzing bliss. Pain to a submissive like me was as pleasurable as rapture if it came from the man I loved.

My master.

After that, we had our chores. Since it was summer, Jonathon’s were all outside ones: mowing the lawn, trimming the hedges, etc. Everything but the flower beds was his responsibility. I was in charge of the inside of the house.

It was a fair trade.

So Jonathon headed to the bathroom to get the sunscreen so I wouldn’t burn—he liked to watch me as he worked, and I enjoyed being outside with him bound and on display. I had developed a strange set of tan lines, you could tell just where Jonathon liked to tie me up, leaving me striped like a tiger.

The doorbell rang.

“Master!” I called out. “Is someone coming over?”

He padded out of the bathroom, looking confused. “No.”

The doorbell rang again.

He sighed and said, “I’ll go take care of it.”

He picked me up and carried me to the living room, dropping me off in a kneeling position before the door, my face down, my ass up. Jonathon liked to say, “I love to see you on your knees like a bitch ready to be mounted.”

The carpet fibers rubbed on my cheek and I had a good view beneath the couch. So dirty. When we got back from our honeymoon, I’d have Jonathon move the couch so I could vacuum beneath it.

The door opened.

“Sorry to drop in,” a man said. He sounded familiar, his accent thick, Eastern European. “But my wife and I need some counseling.”

“Maybe you need counciling, Danko,” a woman snapped. “You’re the one having the problem. Not me.”

I sighed, recognizing the voices.

Danko and CeeCee Perko were a couple who joined the church last February after our Goddess healed Danko. He caught the dread Wormwood Plague that killed so many last winter. My own Jonathon had been so sick, and Kylie and I had been by his side for those three frightening days last November.

I hated the plague unleashed by the bitch-demoness who had conquered Seattle.

“Come in,” Jonathon sighed.

“Sorry to disturb you,” CeeCee muttered. “I know it’s a special day, but my husband insisted.” Scorn filled her voice . The two were always bickering. I didn’t think they were going to last as a couple.

“They would be gone two weeks if we didn’t,” Danko objected. “This needs straightening out. Now. What you did was too much, CeeCee. You went too far.”

“You’re making too much over some meaningless sex,” his wife dismissed. “Oh, hello, Monica.”

I turned my head, getting a good view of her lovely, red pumps. “Hi, CeeCee.”

“So I gather you caught CeeCee in bed with someone, Danko?” Jonathon asked.

“Not someone! A man!” Danko objected. “I’m fine with her being with all the women she wants. That’s what we agreed. So long as she doesn’t mind sharing them with me, I don’t mind her satisfying her… sapphic urges.”

I knew their story. A year ago, they were in a restaurant when our Goddess made love to CeeCee in the middle of the store while Danko watched. CeeCee got a taste for pussy that day—any woman would after receiving pleasure from our Goddess.

“What does it matter if it was a man who fucked your wife?” I asked him.

“It just…” Danko spluttered, struggling to think. “It just… does.”

“It sounds to me like you are stuck in the old morality,” I continued. “Our Gods have freed us from such backward thinking.”

“See,” CeeCee declared. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Then why did you keep it from your husband?” I pressed her. After a year of doing counseling, I learned it was rarely just one person’s fault. “You must have known how he would react so you went behind his back and broke the trust and intimacy necessary for a couple. You two should support each other in your dalliances. Talk with your husband, share your desires and your fantasies with him. Explore them together.”

“He wouldn’t have wanted to,” CeeCee protested. “He’s too wrapped up in that Slavic masculinity!”

“You’re my woman!” Danko roared.

“See!” she declared. “I’m your wife, not your woman. Just because Monica let’s herself be treated like a slave, doesn’t mean I will.”

“My wife is right, you two need to communicate,” Jonathon said in that patient tone he adopted. “It’s the most important part of a relationship. The other is trust. Danko, you need to trust that your wife loves you even when she’s with another man.”

“Though I don’t know why sometimes,” she muttered.

“Bah, this is stupid,” Danko snarled. “I should have known you’d side with her! You probably want to fuck her yourself.”

“I do,” Jonathon admitted. “She’s a gorgeous woman. And she’s a sexual being who has desires. You need to understand that you can’t fulfill them all.”

Danko didn’t answer. I couldn’t see him, so I imagined a scowl crossing his Slavic face.

“Why do you want to sleep with other men?” I asked CeeCee. “Is it because your husband isn’t satisfying you anymore?”

“No,” she admitted. “Danko, why do you like to sleep with other women besides me?”

“Because they are beautiful, and I am a man,” he declared.

“Well, I find other men hot,” CeeCee answered.

“Women have just as powerful a sex drive as men,” Jonathon explained. “Society for thousands of years has just shamed them for expressing it.”

“I think Danko should watch his wife be with a man,” I added. “Maybe if he sees that it’s just lust, not love, it will help him to relax and accepted.”

My husband gave my naked rear a slap. “I think that’s a good idea. Danko, you should even join in and share your wife with another man. Have a threesome”

“I’m not gay,” Danko declared.

“The pair of you can enjoy her without having to touch each other. Women have multiple holes. I know my wife loves to have her holes filled.”

“That sounds fun,” CeeCee smiled. “I put up with sharing you with other women.”

“You like fucking woman,” Danko said.

“You have to make some compromises,” I told him. “You can’t get your way all the time. If CeeCee is only with men while you are present, then you can see how harmless it is.”

“What fantasy do you have, Danko?” my husband asked.

Danko didn’t immediately answer.

“Well?” Jonathon pressed.

“I want to spank her,” he admitted.

“What?” CeeCee gasped. “Like that’s happening. I’m your wife, not your child.”

I tried to sit up, but I had been tied up too long. “Now who’s being selfish? You have to be willing to fulfill your husband’s fantasies if you want him to be okay with yours.”

“I…” CeeCee spluttered. Then she sighed. “I guess… that makes sense.”

“And you might like it” I added.

“My wife loves it, don’t you babe?”

I purred, “Sometimes I’m naughty on purpose so Master has to warm my pretty bottom.”

Jonathon gave a little chuckle. Then he said, “Okay, so in two weeks, we’ll get back from our honeymoon, and I want you both to have participated in the others fantasies.”

“Fine,” Danko said stiffly. “Let’s go, CeeCee.”

“Sure honey,” she answered.

The door closed behind them, their footsteps retreating from our porch.

I squirmed and looked up at my husband, asking, “Do you think they’re going to last?”

“That’s really up to them, isn’t it.” He sighed. “Well, I better mow the lawn, or we’ll have a real jungle on our hands when we get back.”

I didn’t think they would last. Neither seemed willing to play out the other’s fantasies.

“Do you want to sleep with other women?” I asked Jonathon. Outside of blessing brides at weddings, Jonathon never slept with another woman besides Kylie and me.

“I have two beautiful women,” Jonathon answered. “I don’t want or need to sleep with others.”

I smiled, “I only want you and Kylie.”

The rest of the day passed quickly. Before I knew it, Master was untying me so we could get ready for the ceremony. I groaned as I was able to stretch my legs. My body was crisscrossed with rope impressions, a few spots rubbed almost raw and stung to the air. My muscles ached. I massaged them as I stretched my stuff.

It took a few minutes before I was ready to start moving again.

I was excited as I washed my body, my fingers racing across the braided marks of the rope. After I stepped out, I carefully did up my honey-blonde hair into an elaborately-piled mass of curls. I dressed in white stockings, a garter belt, and nothing else. Jonathon wore a black suit with no tie; he hated them.

We drove to our church where the ceremony would be held. I was shivering in anticipation. At the church, I put on my accessories. A dog collar with a nametag that read: “Monica, slave-wife to Jonathon forever.” I preened in it in the bathroom mirror, loving how it jangled and rattled as I fluttered my eyes and wiggled my hips.

Next, I lubed a butt plug. It had a dog’s tail on it. I shuddered as I reached behind me, sliding the tip across my rump. I smeared lube across my butt-cheeks before I nestled it into place. I groaned as I shoved it into me.

My asshole stretched and stretched. I whimpered, my back arching. A wave of hot pleasure shot through me as I worked it in deeper and deeper. I groaned as it spread my asshole to its limits before popping all the way in.

Then I giggled and wiggled my hips, my dog tail swaying behind me. The butt plug filling up my asshole, shifting as I walked, I stepped out of the restroom. Jonathon grinned at me. He held a fine leash of white leather in his hand.

I knelt before him. “Master.”

“My naughty bitch,” he said and then clipped the leash to my collar.

My pussy juices leaked down my thighs as Master led me into the worship hall. I crawled beside him, the fabric of the carpet rough on my hands and knees. I endured the discomfort for him, my bowels clenching down on the tail.

Our friends and family all clapped in delight as they saw us. My Master walked me down the aisle. I shuddered, my head held high as I crawled beside him over the white, pink, and purple flowers petals—the wedding colors for the Living Church—strewn across the aisle.

Rose Cunningham waited at the altar, a big smile on her youthful face. She was officiating our wedding.

Tears built in my eyes as I kept crawling along, my hips wiggling, my doggy tail swaying. Such joy buoyed through me. Today would be so wonderful. So passionate. I shuddered in delight. The last year since we met the Living Gods felt like a dream to me.

We reached the altar. I knelt next to my husband, waiting for Kylie.

I almost gasped when the band struck up the wedding march. Then my breath was stolen away by the sight of Kylie. She stepped in her wedding dress, looking so radiant. She almost shone with such joy. Her dress light and lacy—a Bonnie Slate original. The bodice was so low cut I was sure I could see the pink of her areolas when her breasts jiggled. The skirt was long in the back, but was cut up the front exposing her thighs right up to her crotch. A gauzy veil hung from her mass of fiery-red curls.

She was so beautiful. Jonathon let out a groan. I glanced up to see the same foolish smile he had on his lips when we were married.

I beamed with him.

Kylie’s father escorted her. His daughter floated along beside her. Mr. Cooke had his own big grin as he reached the altar. Instead of handing her over to Jonathon like at a Christian wedding, Kylie hoped onto the altar to be blessed.

She facing her father. The pair shared a passionate kiss, the rapturous delight only a father and daughter could experience together. I licked my lips as I watched Kylie produce her father’s cock and guide it to her pussy.

Sadly, her thigh blocked my view of it entering her.

“Daddy!” she moaned, breaking her kiss as he pounded her cunt. “Oh, yes, Daddy, I love you!”

I trembled, my pussy growing hotter and hotter. My juices ran down my thighs. My asshole clenched about the butt plug as I watched the father pound the bride’s cunt with his dick. He plunged into her with such passion while everyone watched.

Including Jonathon.

The altar shifted as the father of the bride kept fucking her. Kylie’s legs thrust out, bobbing and waving as she gasped and moaned. Her red hair danced beneath her gauzy veil. I licked my lips, loving the rapturous sight before me.

Their passion was melting my pussy.

“Oh, Daddy, yes!” howled Kylie. She was a screamer. “I want you to cum in me. I want you to bless my pussy with all your jizz!”

“Bless her,” I whimpered.

Jonathon’s hand rested on my head. My Master petted me as I trembled. I wanted to masturbate so badly, but this was Kylie’s and her father’s time. Her arms wrapped about his neck. She kissed him again, their tongues dueling, sharing their incestuous passion.

Kylie moaned louder and louder, her veil rustling as her father fucked her so hard. I couldn’t look away from the incestuous passion surging through her. I wished my father was alive to fuck me like that.

What a wild wedding that would have been. But that was the old me, the one before the Living God awakened me to my true destiny. His words still reverberated through my soul, telling me to be the perfect wife for Jonathon.

Just like Kylie would be.

“Yes, yes, yes, cum in me, Daddy!” Kylie moaned, her voice so throaty. Her face contorted as she clung to her father. “Just ram that dick into me and erupt. Give it all to me, Daddy! All your cum! I want it so badly!”

I squirmed, my heart thudding in my chest. I wanted her to do that, too. It was so hot. My pussy was on fire.

“My baby girl!” her father groaned. He rammed into her. “My baby girl! You’re so beautiful!”

“Yes, yes, yes, Daddy!” howled Kylie. She was a screamer when she came, clutching her father. “You’re spilling your jizz in me!”

Her body convulsed and shuddered as she clung to her father. My pussy clenched as he flooded her with his jizz. A taboo wave of delight washed through me as I watched their incestuous orgasm peak in them. I was so glad the Living Gods and their Theocracy was freeing people from this outdated belief that sex was wrong.

So long as they were consenting adults, they could enjoy whomever they wished.

“Daddy,” Kylie moaned, her eyes fluttering. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he groaned.

With the bride blessed, the wedding ceremony could take place. Mr. Cooke pulled out of his daughter’s cunt. My mouth salivated at the sight of Kylie’s well-fucked pussy leaking her father’s jizz. Then Mr. Cooke shook Jonathon’s hand.

“Take care of my daughter,” he said.

“I will, sir,” my husband answered.

Then Mr. Cooke petted my head, smiling down at me. “You, too, slut.”

“Yes, sir,” I moaned. “With all my heart.”

Kylie let out a whimpering moan of delight.

Rose launched into her sermon, speaking of love and trust and intimacy. “These are the most important parts of a marriage. Be open with your spouses, share your fantasies, trust that they will still love you no matter how perverse they might be. If you want to take a lover, do not hide it. Perhaps your spouse would like to partake as well.”

Rose spoke passionately as always. Her words drifted around me, my joy almost drowning them out. I alternated between looking up at my husband and my bride, my head swiveling back and forth. I was so happy that Kylie was going to join us in marriage.

A glob of white cum slowly trickled down Kylie’s right thigh. It caught my eyes.

Without thinking, I ducked my face beneath her skirt and feasted on her shaved pussy, delighting in her sweet twat seasoned with her father’s salty cum. I drove my tongue deep into her cunt. I devoured her.

A strong hand and a gentle hand rested on my head. My loves’ hands spurred me to pleasure Kylie.

It was such a wondrous thing in the world. My tongue fluttered through her labia, making her gasp and moan. Rose never missed a beat, still giving her sermon while I feasted on the bride’s yummy creampie.

My tongue probed deeper and deeper, searching for my jizz to enjoy when Rose began the vows:. “Do you, Jonathon Jephson, take Kylie Cooke to be your lawfully wedded slave-wife? To love her, cherish her, and discipline her when she’s naughty, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” my husband answered.

“And do you, Kylie Cooke, take Jonathon Jephson to be your lawfully wedded husband and master? To love him, cherish him, and submit to his discipline whenever you’ve been naughty, for as long as you both shall live?”

She came on my sweet lips and screamed out. “I do!”

Her juices spilled over my hungry mouth. I groaned, fluttering my tongue through her wondrous snatch. I kept licking her as she quivered. Her moans whimpered in delight as I gave her such pleasure. Above me, Jonathon and Kylie shared a passionate kiss

My pussy clenched when he ripped open her wedding dress’s bodice. It popped open with ease, prepared to split down the middle and fall off of her, leaving her naked save for a white garter belt holding up white stockings.

I didn’t stop swirling my tongue through Kylie’s snatch. She shuddered, her tits quivering as she came down from her orgasmic high. She picked up a collar, matching the one I wore, from the altar and snug it tight about her neck. A nametag dangled from the collar reading: Kylie, slave-wife to Jonathon forever.

I pulled my face from her pussy so she could kneel down like a bitch next to me, her tits quivering. Jonathon snagged a leash off the altar. Kylie lifted her chin, giving him easy access. He clipped the leash to her collar, gripping it in his hands along with mine.

Such joy burst through me.

“Do you,” Rose intoned, continuing the ceremony, “Monica Jepheson, take Kylie Cooke to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love her, and cherish her, and to help Jonathon discipline her whenever she has been naughty, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” I declared.

“Do you, Kylie Cooke, take Monica Jepheson to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love her, and cherish her, and to help Jonathon discipline her whenever she has been naughty, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do!” Kylie answered, her hazel eyes staring deep into mine.

“Then by the powers invested in me by the Living Gods and their Theocracy, I declare you Master and slave-wives.”

Joy exploded in my heart as my lips, sticky with her pussy juices and her father’s cum, melted against hers. Everyone clapped and cheered. I loved it. It was so wonderful. I drank it in, almost swooning in delight.

The Kylie broke the kiss and turned around, wiggling her naked ass at me. Jonathon handed down the last item on the altar: a butt plug adorned with a dog’s tail. I popped it into my mouth and sucked on it, getting it lubed for Kylie’s ass.

She gasped as I shoved it up her asshole. She whimpered, her hips wiggling. Our husband stood over us, beaming in delight as the sex toy popped into her asshole. She was a wholly a bitch like me. She wagged her tail, her wedding veil rustling on her head.

Our guests clapped and cheered as Jonathon walked his bitches down the aisle. We both beamed as we crawled side-by-side. As we passed, many of the guests reached out to grope our asses. I shuddered, my asshole clenching down on the butt plug jammed deep inside of bowels.

The reception was fun. The food was great, and we had a great band playing. We drank, we danced, we had fun. As the reception was winding down, Kylie and I cornered our husband, knelt before him, and sucked his cock together.

“Isn’t this a beautiful sight?” purred one of the Cunningham twins. She had short hair, making her Daisy.

“It is,” giggled Rose.

They sat down on either side of Jonathon. “We wanted to speak to you before you left,” Daisy began. “It’s important.

“About what?” Jonathon asked.

We never stopped sucking him, our tongues dancing across his cock.

“We’ve been talking with Mark and Mary, and they have plans for the Churches organization at the international level.”

Rose nodded. “They plan on dividing the world into fourteen districts. Each district would be ruled by a Governor, taking care of secular matters, and a Bishop for ecclesiastical ones.”

“Rose and I would like you and your wives to be the Bishops for South America.”

“You three would run the church, answerable to me and Daisy.”

“That sounds like a great opportunity,” I said.

Jonathon stroked my cheek. “I think we can accept. Kylie?”

Kylie gave what sounded like an affirmative grunt since her mouth was full of Jonathon’s cock.

“You three would have to be bound to Mark,” Rose added. “All of the Governors and Bishops will have to be. You would be pledging your souls to serve them in this life and the next. But in exchange you will get eternal youth and life. Well, so long as you don’t suffer any lethal injuries.”

I could stay young, beautiful, and be Jonathon’s slave forever? “Say yes, Master!” I moaned. “Please, please say yes.’

“Absolutely,” he said. “I’ll get to play with my two bitches for eternity.”

I sucked on his balls while such joy surged through me. I would be my husband’s slave forever. What a wonderful thing.

The END of Monica’s Tale

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