Stacey knew she was lucky to be marrying Michael. He was incredibly rich and devastatingly handsome – way out of her league – and she was crazily in love with him. She knew he didn’t love her as much, but that didn’t matter, as long as her let her be in his life.
Knowing how lucky she was to be with him at all gave her motivation to accept his unusual treatment of her. He always gagged her with her own panties during sex, because he didn’t want to hear the noises she made. He filmed her whenever he fucked her, and the next day while he was at work she would have to watch it while masturbating and taking notes for how she could be less boring next time.
In the mornings before work, she would perform her “morning service”, which would involve kneeling naked before Michael. He would attach chains to her nipples via clamps, and connect them to the watch-band of his left hand. He would then stand in front of her, cock aimed at her face, and masturbate with his left hand. Each pump of his wrist jerked painfully on her tits. She was required to look up at him adoringly, with her mouth open, as he hurt her. With his right hand, he would repeatedly slap her across the face – not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough to hurt and demean. When he was ready to cum, he would either pull her sharply towards him by a brutal tug on her nipple chains as he shoved his cock into her mouth and ejaculated down her throat, or he would just spurt his sperm over her face and tits. She was not allowed to wash his cum off her body before evening, as it would be disrespectful, so she would spend the rest of the day with his sperm drying on her cheeks and boobs.
In the afternoon, she would inject a shot of bovine growth hormone into her tits, and then attach her nipples to a milking machine and put a vibrator into her pussy and lie like that for two hours. Michael wanted her tits to get bigger, even though she had always been ashamed of even her natural breast size. As her milk came in, she watched herself grow out of her old bras and tops, her tits simply too big to fit. Michael refused to buy her new clothes. She found she could mostly cover herself if she stopped wearing bras and let her shirts stretch so tightly across her tits that her milk-leaking nipples poked through.
For the wedding, she required a wedding dress, and Michael’s sister owned a wedding business, so nothing would do but one of her dresses. The only problem was that Stacey discovered that nothing in his sister’s shop fit her – her breasts were too big. She despaired of having to tell Michael she was too much of a cow to wear a proper wedding dress. He would surely leave her on the spot.
“We do have one thing,” said the sister. She presented a lacy see-through camisole that would completely bare Stacey’s tits. Nevertheless, Stacey tried it on, along with the accompanying white panties and high heels.
“A whore ordered this,” said the sister, “but she skipped out on the final product when she discovered I wouldn’t let her pay in ‘services’. I think it suits you.”
“I can’t wear this to my wedding…” Stacey protested.
“Suit yourself,” the sister shrugged. “That’s between you and Michael.”
Stacey quailed. She had to get a dress from Michael’s sister, and this was the only one. “All right,” she said. “Fine, I’ll take it.”
“Excellent,” said the sister. Then she undid her skirt. She wasn’t wearing panties. She used her fingers to spread her pussy lips and reveal the shiny bud of her clitoris. “Now, since that whore ordered the skirt, I’ve been reconsidering that idea of payment through services. Put your tongue to work, dear. Consider it practice – I’ll soon be your sister-in-law, and I’m sure Michael will be happy to lend you out from time to time…”
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