To Honor and Obey

She was positively glowing with happiness as she swirled around the reception in her flowing white gown. Her dream had been many years in the making, but the reality was finally here.

Sarah was truly the 'blushing bride.' Tom had just given her the first order of her married life. Taking his hand, she led him into a small side room and giggling, closed the door with her butt.

Sinking to her knees before him, she carefully arranged the full white skirt. The knees of her white nylons took the floor's grit rather than her bridal gown. It almost felt like she was kneeling on small gravel, but she ignored the discomfort and focused on her Husband's pleasure instead. Eagerly she unzipped his pants and freed his engorged cock.

"Oh yes Sir, as your whore, I am delighted and honored to suck my Husband's prick. This bitch will suck you any time, anywhere for the rest of my life," Sarah gazed adoringly up at his face as she repeated just one of the private wedding vows they had exchanged before the civil ceremony.

Sweeping back her long blonde hair with one hand, the other white satin glove gripped his rock hard shaft as she lowered her mouth onto him.

Tom moaned as her wet warmth engulfed him. Grabbing her thick earrings, he pulled her closer, feeling her throat spasm around his tip. She squealed as he shoved harder. Determined to preserve her virginity for the wedding night, she had been willingly servicing him with her mouth for months now. Sarah was just learning to deep throat his thick organ, and despite her best efforts, kept gagging. But Tom held her tight and wouldn't be denied. Her groans and gags gave exquisite vibrations that quickly brought him to orgasm. With a drawn out sigh, he held her motionless and shot far down her throat. Sarah slurped and swallowed like a pro. As he shriveled, her tongue continued to run laps around the head until the sensations became too intense and he pulled out.

"Thank you, Master. This cock-sucking slut hopes she pleased you," the tip of Sarah's pink tongue darted out to lick up a little dribble of cum off her lower lip.

Helping her to her feet, Tom grinned and told her, "Oh yes, bitch, that took the edge off. Now we can enjoy the reception without you having to get under a table to suck me off."

Blushing with pleasure like a schoolgirl, Sarah giggled like one, "I think I need a touchup." She picked up her small clutch purse and began rooting for a lipstick.

"No slut," Tom said, laying a single restraining finger on her arm. "I want everyone out there to see you with smeared lipstick. They'll wonder if we were just kissing or if you serviced your Husband for the first time."

Closing the purse, she bowed her head in submission, "Yes Sir, I understand. I will obey every command from my Master."

The rest of the reception was a whirl of dancing, opening gifts, and many toasts to the couple's happiness. Sarah was all smiles and blushes as she accepted assorted hugs, busses on the cheek, and not a few lewd comments from the guests. She drank more champagne than she knew she should, but she was determined to be the ultimate giddy bride, and besides, the alcohol helped dissolved the residue of Tom's cum clinging to her mouth and throat. While she loved the taste of his juice, a sticky mouth made her very self-conscious laughing and talking.

No one commented directly about her smeared lipstick, but the men openly appraised her with full body scans, and several of the women snickered and made bawdy comments.

They knew, and wanted to be sure she knew they did. Rather than embarrassment or trying to hide her mouth, Sarah held her head high, and smiled continuously. She was now the proud wife of a strong, virile man, and if He wanted her with cock-smeared lipstick, she was happy to oblige for all to see and envy.

There was the standard cutting of the wedding cake and feeding each other. As Sarah licked the creamy white frosting from her lips, she gave Tom a knowing wink to let him know she too was thinking back to the last time he fed her creamy white stuff.

There was just one more obligation before they retreated upstairs to the honeymoon suite -- the removal and tossing of the bride's garter. Sarah sat in the chair placed in the center of the room. Coyly she raised her skirt and petticoats to give a nice view of her white nylons and satin pumps to the crowd of leering men. Tom knelt and placed her high heeled foot on his knee. All eyes watched him slide his hands up her leg to the lavender and pink ribboned garter around her thigh. As his hands slid upwards, he stopped when he reached her knee. There was a deafening silence, then laughter and an undercurrent of comments.

As the beaming and blushing centerpiece of this leg show, Sarah didn't understand what was going on. Tom reached farther up and pinched her thigh. The unexpected pain jolted her. Looking down, she instantly saw the cause of the crowd's reaction. Both knees of her pristine stockings told the unmistakable tale of her first blowjob of married life. Head lowered to avoid seeing their mocking faces, Sarah's face burned a deep crimson. She realized that Tom had set her up. Recalling the unusual amount of grit on the floor as she knelt to serve him, she knew he had put the dirt there for just this purpose, to humiliate her.

The whole crowd knew she had been used, in what position, and the smudged lipstick even told them which orifice Tom had employed.

In abject humiliation, she watched through misty eyes as he tossed the garter, and to a chorus of obscene cheers, led her out of the reception to the elevators.

Biting her lip to fight the tears, she lasted until the elevator doors closed.

"Oh Tom, how could you?" she wailed.

"You are my slut, remember? You will do what I say, when I say, where I say. You swore obedience to your Master, remember? Now wipe those tears. You're making a mess of your makeup."

He handed her a tissue. Turning away from him, Sarah dabbed her eyes, the elevator's mirrored wall guiding her efforts at restoration.

Determined to get a response from her, Tom pinched both nipples through her gown and bra, "Have you forgotten your wedding vows already, cunt?"

"No Sir! I'll obey your every command. You are my Master and I am your slut forever."

Satisfied for the moment, he released her buds, spun her around and kissed her fiercely while his hands groped under her dress. She returned his kiss with true passion. After all, he had denied her orgasm for the past two week and she was beyond horny. Just as his hands reached her need, the elevator lurched to a stop and the doors slid open.

With one hand gripping her breast, he led her down the hall to their room. Locking the door behind them, he ordered her to repair her makeup while he poured himself a bourbon from the bar.

He sipped his drink and watched her at work before the mirror. Tom loved her, but also loved ravaging that painted face. Rivulets of mascara streaking blusher, smudged lipstick, hair askew, these were exciting reminders of his domination over her, and he grew hard at the thought.

They had met online at a personals site catering to those with serious kinky tastes. Emails, pictures and webcams aided their courtship. By their first flesh-on-flesh date, most all desires and needs were understood and mutually accepted. She was a lonely, transgendered pain-slut. He was a Dom who appreciated sexy, submissive 'women' who had less, but worked harder to please.

As Sarah redid her makeup, he admired the curve of her neck, the trim waist achieved by her tight-laced corset, and the slight swell of ass cheeks. He had made free use of her whore's mouth, but had been saving her puckered virgin hole for tonight, their wedding night. There would indeed be a deflowered bride. His cock swelled as he thought of the tight tunnel waiting for him.

Turning from the mirror, she gave a coquettish smile over her shoulder, and purred seductively, "How may I serve my Master, on our wedding night?"

Tom slipped off the tux jacket and laid it over a chair. Sitting, he pointed down and said, "My shoes and socks, bitch."

Sarah scurried over and sank to her knees. After his shoes and socks, she removed his slacks and underpants as directed.

He stood and helped her rise by tugging on her thick hoop earrings. She moved quickly. A sharp "No" stopped her attempt to unbutton his shirt.

One arm around her shoulders, his other snug on her ass, Tom pressed into her for a deep, lingering kiss. Sarah got weak kneed as always when this strong man held her so passionately. He began fondling her hormone-grown boobs as their embrace smoldered.

"Now you may serve your Master, my sweet whore."

With down cast eyes, Sarah murmured, "Oh yes Sir, this willing slut is yours to command."

In reply, Tom turned her around facing the large mirror over the low dresser.

"Spread, bitch."

As she moved to take off her satin pumps, he stopped her, "No, slut, you'll wear heels every time I fuck your cunt. I love the way they mold and shape your legs. Besides, having your legs tensed like that will tighten up your 'pussy' for me, and seeing you in heels turns me on."

Sarah moved her legs as far apart as the bridal gown would permit.

He moved close behind her and bent her forward at the waist, "Wider, bitch."

Putting her hands on the dresser for support, she opened as far as she could for him.

"This will be a wedding night you'll never forget, my dear."

"Oh Sir, it already is. I'll never be able to live down the humiliation of everybody knowing I got on my knees to suck you off like that."

With a chuckle, Tom answered, "Yes, a little bit of extra dirt on your knees showed everybody just how much of a cock-sucking little whore you are. But I have more surprises in store for you tonight. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Master," she sighed.

Tom had made it clear he was saving her 'cunt' for their wedding night. She remembered how much her jaw ached their first few weeks together. Learning to serve his manhood had been painful. She gained confidence with proficiency. True, she might not have the huge tits and juicy cunt of the other sluts on the prowl, but she could service and satisfy her man. Now a combination of dread and desire sent a tremor through her body at the thought of that thick cock skewering her anus. But she wanted to serve her Master, to gift him with the only virginity she had, to feel his lust buried deep inside, to become a complete woman.

Like all women since time immemorial, she presented herself a willing blood sacrifice to male lust.

He hiked up her skirt, petticoat and slip around her waist.

"What's this?" the groom growled as he tugged on the elastic waist band of white nylon panties.

"Oh Sir," Sarah began, "they're fancy 'bridal' panties. The lady at the bridal shop gave them to me when I picked up my dress. She said I should wear them for you tonight, that they'd turn you on. She knows I'm a TG and just wanted my wedding night to be special and perfect."

When she finally paused for breath, Tom calmly reminded her of the rule, "No panties unless it's your time of the month."

She started to turn around, "But see, they have pretty embroidered flowers here in the front." Her confidence was ebbing rapidly. Obviously, Tom was neither turned on nor amused by the 'bridal' panties.

In an instant, he had ripped the filmy panties from her and gagged her mouth with the wad of fabric.

"We've only been married, what, four, five hours now, and already you've broken one of the rules. Looks like I'll have to punish you before we can get on with popping that cherry."

Close to tears from the loss of her festive panties and plans for a torrid wedding night, Sarah hung her head. She had already disappointed her Husband and Master.

The night of their engagement, when Tom proposed, he also told her the rules she would live by the rest of her life. 'No panties except during her period' was one of them. He had been very candid and warned her that punishments would be for real, not sex play. He promised whips, crop, paddle and cane as well as other unspecified tortures to correct her.

`Now he made good on his promise. With a hiss, his thick leather belt snaked from his slacks. Doubling it up, he started with her ass. After about six blistering swings, he began laying hard strokes on the white hose of her thighs. She had managed to hold back her tears, but broke with the first searing stroke to her tender thighs. Tom wasn't concerned about her weeping, but the quality of the angry red welts that began showing through the virginal white nylons. Satisfied with his handiwork, he tossed the belt aside and picked up the digital camera to record the images.

When she realized the punishment was over, Sarah straightened up and started to turn to him.

Holding her gently, he removed the wet panty gag from her mouth and kissed her tenderly.

"You know I had to punish you, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," she replied. "I disobeyed your rules and deserved the whipping."

Tom poured two flutes of champaign, handed her one, and raising his, said, "To our love. May you always love to serve and serve to love."

Before tasting her glass, Sarah whispered, "Forever, Master, anything, always, forever. I will honor and obey your desires.

"Drink up, my dear. It's your wedding night. Nothing wrong with a tipsy bride," Tom teased before draining his glass.

She dutifully followed his lead. After the day's excitement, the drinks and humiliation at the reception, Sarah was ready to cut loose. Besides, she hadn't had an orgasm for at least two weeks now. She was itching and ready.

They rolled around on the bed, cavorting like teenagers, groping, kissing and drinking. His hands were all over her eager breasts. Her twin buds absolutely ached for his teeth and pinching fingers. He teased and tormented, but didn't give her the satisfaction she craved. Tom even snaked a hand up her skirt and played with her shriveled 'clit' and hormone-shrunk jewels.

When Sarah made the decision to live as a woman, she began taking hormones. The results included a lot less body hair to do battle with, a general softening of body contours, and sprouting pert, sensitive boobs. Her boobs were small, but they were hers, not falsies of some kind. They were a proud badge of her womanhood. The other change the hormones caused, of course, centered in her crotch. Her dick seemed to shrink. It could get mildly aroused, and the tip was still oh so sensitive, but never anything like pre-drug erections. It had truly become a 'clit.' When excited, it dripped pre-cum, and if Tom used his tongue or a vibrator on it, she could achieve orgasm, but not every time. The testes also shrank to a fraction of their former size. Tom had talked about possibly having the whole sack surgically removed. Sarah had mixed feelings about that, but she did like his plastic surgery idea better. He thought that the balls should be removed and the bag's a skin be split and pulled up over and around her tiny cock, and sewn together so that she had vestigial labia surrounding her little 'clitty.'

Finally stopping to catch their breath, Tom stood up and offered her a hand.

"I think it's about time we consummated this marriage, don't you?"

"Yes, my dearest Master, please do your husbandly duty and take your wife," Sarah purred in sexual anticipation.

He poured anhother glass of champaign. Setting it on the dresser, he put his cockhead in her glass and soon filled it to the rim with golden, non-alcoholic juice.

Giving her a final, deep kiss, Tom handed her both glasses.

Then he positioned her so she could see them both in the mirror.

Hiking up her skirt and undergarments again revealed her reddened ass criss-crossed by the tracks of his belt.

One hand gripping her waist, he dipped two fingers of his other hand into an open jar of cold cream.

"I love you, Sarah. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master, and I love you too," she answered.

"Part of being a woman is losing your virginity. I'm going to make sure this hurts. You will never forget your first time. Getting deflowered will instill the proper respect of a slave for her Master. Do you understand?"

"Please, Master, take my cherry. This slave needs to suffer serving your cock."

Carefully, he applied only a thin coating of the lubricant to his cockhead.

Sarah jumped slightly when the cold tip was presented to her quivering anus. He held it there as he gave her instructions.

"Be very careful now, my slut. Don't you dare spill a drop. Arms straight out to the side. That's it. Not only will you lose your cherry, but you'll learn discipline. Can you control yourself even under severe pain? You will learn, my bitch, you'll learn to take it and like it."

"I want to honor and obey your every wish, Master. Please take me hard. Your bitch is here for your pleasure."

"Oh, you'll give me pleasure, alright. I'm going to ream out that tight hole of yours. Remember, don't spill a single drop from those glasses or I'll whip your ass and thighs until you can't sit or walk."

With that, he held her hips and leaned in, spearing her dead center.

"Oooh, ooooh," Sarah moaned as the cold lubed head relentlessly entered her most private place. But the tip was nothing compared to the thick, hard shaft. As the shaft began its assault on her bowels, she realized that the tiny bit of lube on the tip wasn't going to be enough to ease his cock's invasion.

When the shaft was lodged firmly in her stretched outer ring, he held still to allow her to savor the pain, drawing out her moment of fulfillment as a woman. She was panting like a puppy now, between gasps. She tried to be careful that her involuntary shudders didn't spill the precious liquid in the wine glasses.

"Now you truly become a woman, my sweet cunt," Tom told her while tightening his grip on her hips.

A quick thrust, and he possessed his bride to the hilt.

Her head jerked up. The pain was incredible! Flashes of red and white clouded her vision. It seemed she could actually hear as well as feel flesh ripping as her virgin anus took his thick manhood. Partway through her shriek of agony, her eyes flew open and saw their reflection in the mirror: Tom with his back arched as he savored the hot tightness of her hole, a triumphant smile on his face, and her red-faced mask of pain with tears streaking her makeup, her mouth twisted in anguish.

She came so close to dropping her arms and the glasses, but held on. Concentrating on them distracted her mind somewhat from the searing pain. It felt for all the world like Tom had taken a red-hot poker and shoved it up her ass.

"Hurt me, Master!" Sarah cried, "Take your slut hard. Oh, please, use me."

As promised, her deflowering had been brutal. Having skewered her like the fuck-pig she was, he stood still for at least a clock minute. Not in sympathy for her suffering, but so he could fully enjoy her facial expressions of pure torture in the mirror. Satisfied she would never forget losing her cherry, he began a savage ride. Her torn rectum pulsed with the agony of each thrust. He rode hard and fast. She squealed gutter language like a street whore. In almost record time, he came. Sarah could feel the jets of hot sperm coating her insides. Even in her cocoon of pain, that felt strangely nice. He held her motionless until finally his cock deflated enough to ooze its way out.

He took the goblets from her quivering hands and set them on the dresser. Turning her around, he wrapped his strong arms around her and kissed her deeply.

"You are mine now, my sweet slut. That cunt belongs only to me." He began kissing away the tears from her cheek.

Her sobbing slowly subsided, "I-I am yours forever, Master. I'm proud to have given my virginity to you."