Wedding
Dorm 6W
The Six Wankers
He strutted inside. “I just called in to say cheerio, chaps,” he said, “it’s been fun, and I hope we’ll meet up again next year….” his voice trailed off as he saw seven studs, not six….with two bags on bed A. He didn’t recognise the seventh specimen, of around his own age, and who’d presumably just arrived? He was talking animatedly to Andrew Rand by bed B, which had been his in Year LXXXVIII. “You too, Shagger,” said Randy Andy, a sentiment shared by five others, “although it occurs to me you won’t know my firm friend….?” he shook his head, never having set eyes on him before, “….meet Jack Stonewall, from when I was one of The Wanker Boys in Year LXXXVII.” Good grief….another blast from the past.
“Stonewall Jackson,” she said, “he was captain of dorm 5W, if I recall rightly….and a pretty dishy dude.” He nodded. “Correct as regards captain,” he confirmed, “although I can’t comment about his charisma or character….or crotch.”
They both shook hands. “It’s an honour,” he said, “I’ve heard a lot about you.” The other grinned. “You too….Shagger,” he replied, “it can’t have been especially easy, stepping into my shoes.” Which was putting it mildly. “I was rank outsider from day 1,” he confirmed, “and when you add my other difficulties, like having a horrid habit of hesitation, in addition to being a basket case with sex, it was an uphill struggle for the first few months.” His dearest dorm mates had hardly helped, either.
“Yet I understand you became a Cunt Casanova,” he said, “as indeed had I….” really? “….when one of The Boys In Blue….” pretty good going, “….but so much has happened in only two years. I gather Grizzle Guts has hooked up with Rick The Prick….?” there were two neat nods, “….I always suspected some sort of spark between them….” exactly as he’d said earlier, “….Andy here is hopeful to have Randy Mandy’s beautiful brace of bristols….at Bristol….” very droll, “….and also one of the best bums in the business….” quite so, “….and for your sins, you’ve achieved some Standards, Shagger….” Brenda Smith’ previous nickname, “….I’m told it’s your wedding this afternoon, so my very best swishes to you and your Missus….as I believe she’s already known.”
Very reasonable. “I suppose you’re here for week 6, Jack?” he asked. “Yes,” he replied, “and similarly 7, since taken together, they’ll enable me to seriously sample my proper period In The Pink….which I managed to miss. It’ll be good to share some time together with Richard….and anyone else from the old days.” Which again was what Summer School was all about. “Wanker Boy Will should still be next door,” he said, “since we both opted for dorm 6X this time. It turns out we’re both incorrigible exhibitionists. As Andy may have mentioned, he became Iron Will….” another neat nod, “….although it didn’t deal with his problems of a wildly wavering willy and knobbly knees knocking….” in abortive attempts to impress pussy with his prowess, “….which were finally resolved last term with a Mental Makeover.” The other licked his lips.
“For which he apparently has you to thank,” he said, “and likewise Grizzle Guts, who I gather now goes under her first name….something I’d not known. But she’s my frightful fagmistress this week, which won’t be fun….maybe it might? Apparently you had Sexy Sammy for Year LXXXVIII in similar circumstances.” Indeed he did. “I suspect skulduggery somewhere, Jack,” he said, “since fags should still be same sex until Year XC….” he paused, “….we can exchange stories over lunch, if you like? I’m hoping for a brief bite to eat at about one o’clock.” The other nodded. “A sound plan,” he agreed. “Until later, Shagger,” said Randy Andy, “since I’ve a couple of calls to make.” Probably, he’d be screwing some sluts somewhere?
“Then I returned to the main assembly hall,” he continued, “to where my philandering father had already made a suitable start on stacking the chairs. Bren’s Uncle Jack was loading them into Stric….” the school minibus, “….with its seats removed. They were being transported, a dozen at a time, to the grounds of the Parish Church. He reckoned on requiring at least a gross, simply to be on the safe side. We’d taken off our high heels, since they weren’t helpful for such heavy work, but left our clip-on bowties. I’d wondered whether my Mother and future Mother-in-law might assist, however dad told me they considered it all to be mere men’s work….as always. According to him, Mum was sampling a series of studs….I’d suspected one of whom might even be Randy Andy?
Although it turned out to have been three teachers. The first was Doctor Ian Livingston Hume, he of fine physique and piercing blue eyes….Over whom I noted her Ogling Obviously during History earlier in the week. The second was Stinks….you recall me saying how his study door was almost always open for lovely Ladies who like the look of latex lingerie….?” she nodded, “….so she took the tube with Harold Sphinx….” as London Transport were always asking, “….not to mention his tool. The final felon was Dr George Jekyll….” a handsome young teacher, who’d always given the guys and gals a good hiding….so to speak, “….otherwise Mr Hide. She’s such a slut, but obviously it runs in the family. Anyway, we were doing well, and Big Ben was striking twelve, when I was just carrying another four interminable chairs towards the door.”
SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped at a sudden Sexist Smack. “Put your back into it, bad boy,” said a floozy from behind him, “maybe Miss Whiplash ought to give you another good going over in The Box Room?” He set them down, and turned around to see his dearest Domme, dressed in basic black. “Good morning, Ma’am,” he muttered, his penis pulsing at the pretty prefect. “I’m glad you’re still pleased to see me, David,” she replied wryly, “do you have the time?” He glanced up at the wall clock. “It’s noon, Ma’am,” he replied….SLAPP “…Oww,” he added. “I mean, do you have the inclination?” she asked, “damn your distended dick, David….do I have to spell it out?” She stroked her skirt where she shouldn’t, so there was no mistaking her indecent inclinations.
“Go ahead, Davy,” said his dad, “we’ve broken its back. Then there’s setting the tables and chairs around the perimeter, for all the invited guests. But the caterers should arrive shortly, and they can lend a hand. So by all means take yourself off with a well-earned….well, screw.” As ever, the benefits of a completely open-marriage were perfectly plain. There would never be any cheating, since everything was above board. “I’m meeting a couple of characters in The Canteen at one o’clock, Domme,” he said, “so shall we be away….?” she nodded, “….I’ll just put on my high heels.” He padded across the hall, and put them on. She took his hand in hers, and together they headed through the double doors.
Several minutes of long, dark cold corridors later, they reached the Prefects’ Study wing, and started up the empty stone steps. “Do you know your study details, Domme?” he asked, as they reached the Level 2 landing. “Whistle it to me,” she replied, wittily, “but it’s Level 3, study fifdeen….as I’ve been told they’ve been dozenalized.” He tried it in his head….seventeen, in old money. Then the penny dropped. “Bren’s?” he asked, as they continued upwards.
“Precisely….” she replied as they arrived at the Level 3 landing, and started into the gloomy corridor he knew so well, “….I had to do a quid pro quo deal….” a Reciprocal Exchange, “….especially when one also includes having Richard and Jack as fags….” uh..huh, “….a trip down to The Dell, for a whipping in the woods….on Miss Whiplash Wednesday next week. However, it’ll all be worth it, enabling me to revisit what went wrong with my schooldays, and rewrite them as I’d wish….starting shortly.” Which once again was what Summer School was all about….as they reached their destination. It already bore a new name for week 6.”
Then their main meals arrived, and Jules set them down….serving Sir first. “I’m sorry for the wait,” he said, “but well done meat does take longer. Did you need any sauces?” Shagger shook his head, and so did she….despite not having been asked for the facility. “Do start,” he urged as the waiter strutted away, “I’ll continue the story in a second after I’ve sampled the steak….” he cut it and took a bite, “….excellent.”
Dominetta G Gutteridge
Vedi veci veni
“I Saw, I Conquered, I Came,” she said, “knowing you to have been a German garçon….” very droll….as he pushed it open, and stood aside. Then he followed, and saw at once the previous incumbent was still present. “Wotcha, Davy,” said a shackled Brenda Smith from the bed. She was face down, legs spread, and an adorable arse in the air across a pillow. “Domme’s dished the discipline,” she continued, “in accordance with Once-A-Fag, Always-A-Fag….” although there were seven stripes on her seat? “….a Welcome Back Whacking, with another three for naughty nipples. She’s also been demonstrating Dick Dastardly….” Oo..er, yes MA’AM, “….you’ll have to buy one for me….for when Wifey’s been wicked. In retrospect I agree punishment penises have their place. “Should I see you before the service?” he asked. “Just my wedding dress, Davy,” she replied, “which is still in the box, so don’t fret….” she giggled girlishly, “….although I suppose starkers and screwable is suspect. However, my virtue’s safe….even if yours isn’t.”
Clearly she wasn’t fussed about the forthcoming fuck….essentially cuckolded on her wedding day. “You’ll be taking a tumble on Sexy Sammy’s Riding Bench For Expert Equestriennes,” said Domme, “basically it’s back to where it all started in the autumn term of Year LXXXVIII. You first fucked Pretty Patty, then me and finally Standards….the latter leading to both your Big Ones, and your streaks to stardom. Though this time, I won’t look for Sil to photograph the fuck….” although he’d been asked to act as Wedding photographer, “….would you mind clicking the camera, Brenda?” There was a wry smile. “Most certainly, Ma’am….ohh….ohh,” she added as her shackles were released.
Slowly, she sat up and rubbed her wrists. Then she put on her black high-heeled shoes, thus restoring her prefect’s privileges, and picked up the camera. Presumably, her previously punished posterior was already recorded on film? “Lie face down on the Riding Bench, David,” said Domme, “think yourself lucky, since your Sex Thrashing would have been two dozen due from Grizzle Guts….” Ouch, “….albeit with an extra three for caneable Questions….” she collected her cane from the bedside cabinet, and flexed it firmly between her fingers, “….staccato style, in threes.”
SWISHHHTHWACKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKK
FLASHH “….YIPPEE..YI..YO….THREE, thank you MA’AM,” he gasped. “We discovered recently it was Davy’s Mum who made it, Domme,” said his Missus, “as her General Studies project during Year LXVII, since this was her study, too.”
SWISHHHTHWACKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKK
FLASHH “….YIPPEE..YI..YO….SIX, thank you MA’AM,” he gasped. “I used her legacy extensively during my time of tenure, and also this Summer School,” she continued, “but she borrowed it on Sunday to do Davy’s dad. The previous time it had counted as Obliging Olivia, but this week she was playing In The Pink.”
SWISHHHTHWACKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKK
“YIPPEE..YI..YO….NINE, thank you, MA’AM,” he gasped. “They were duly discovered In Flagrante Delicto….” Caught In The Act, “….by Thrasher Thring.” Apparently as arranged.
SWISHHHTHWACKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKK
“YIPPEE..YI..YO….TWELVE, thank you, MA’AM,” he gasped. “Then they were given the Big One and Biggest One the following morning in assembly,” she continued, “he’d expressed a deep desire to decisively discipline her derrière in front of the school.” So this was yet another fantasy fulfilled. “To conclude, it’s cuts for those Questions, David,” she said sternly as his shaft strained. Dammit….why DID he always fall for floozies who treated him really badly?
SWISHHHTHWACKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKK SWISHHHTHWACKKK
FLASHH “….YIPPEE..YI..YO….THIRDEEN, thank you, MA’AM,” he gasped, at what was once a frightful fifteen, “thank you for my thorough thirdeen thrashing. It was excellently applied, and an aching arse is always appreciated….ohh....ohh….ohh….ohh,” he added as they both fondled his fanny. “Turn over, David….” said Domme, locking the hinged riding rail into position for a halfway handhold, “….since now it’s time for you to take the testicle torment.” His Missus raised the padded headrest in best torturer tradition. It enabled suspects to see the source of their suffering.
Then it was arms down for wrist shackles, and ankles ironed up against two corner ratchets. “Uhhh,” he moaned as she stroked the sensitive centre spot, encouraging the scrotum to separate. Next the coiled cord was pulled parallel inside the left leg, tied tightly to a testicle and repeated with the right….CLICKK CLICKK “….AHHH….MA’AM,” he moaned, as she turned one ratchet….CLICKK CLICKK “….AHHH….AHHH….MA’AM,” he gasped again at the other, with his twitching tool tugged upwards under the impetus of the twine. Now he was veering towards the right….CLICKK CLICKK “….AYEEEEE….me balls, MA’AM,” he gasped, as the tension in his left testicle was increased, so his straining shaft was shifted square.
“We’re ready to roll,” she said, shedding her skirt. She passed it to his Missus, who folded it neatly to the floor. Then she ascended the Bench, and stood in the pair of adjustable side stirrups with her slit slightly separated from his straining shaft. “Here I cum, David,” she said wittily….FLASHH “….ready or not….UHHH.” Slowly, she slithered down his straining shaft. Gravely, his Misses handed her a riding crop….THWAPP “….Ahhh….” THWAPP “….Ahhh,” he gasped as she struck his cheeks. If nothing else, it would keep him from cumming….at least until she reached a climax of her own….FLASHH “….UHHH….UHHH….UHHH,” she moaned, humping herself hard, “….I love Richard dearly….UHHH….but I DO like doing your dastardly dick….” so to speak….FLASHH “….UHHH….I’m a gone girl….yes….YESS.”
She stopped for several seconds, and then she was at him again. “UHHH….MA’AM,” he moaned, “….I can’t hold back much more….UHHH….I’m spurting….YESS….YESS….” his world wavered, “….YESS….YESS….” she echoed in orgasm as he cummed the cunt called Dominetta Gutteridge. “Ohh….me balls,” he moaned after another age, as they were released….followed by all his shackles. “I ought to be away, Mesdemoiselles,” he said, standing shakily, “and hope we’ll all be at the Church on time?” His fiancée shrugged. “Were you planning on showering at some stage, Davy?” she enquired, “since you’re a sweaty shambles. At least the crew cut means your hair’s not too bad, but even so, you’re a disgrace to the….well, uniform.” They both gestured towards the shower room.
“So I showered quickly,” he said, “and dried myself down, whilst listening to all manner of floozy frippery for fellas’ failings. Domme hugged me hard as I returned to the main study, as did my Missus. ‘We’ll certainly screw at some stage this evening, Davy,’ she assured me, ‘eventually, anyway.’ I was mildly concerned at what she might have in mind, but there was no mileage in worrying. “Yes, MA’AM,’ I muttered, and strutted out of the study. Then it was down to The Canteen for my light lunch….the condemned criminal’s final meal. Being changeover day, it was almost empty. I met up with Randy Andy and Stonewall Jackson as arranged, and enjoyed hearing several stories about the Good Old Days. Then Sir Digby Vaillance appeared, in the Naked Waiter wear….since he too would be attending the wedding. He was fondling two fetching floozies in familiar fashion, and we all arose.”
“Do sit down, Shagger,” he said, “I believe you know these lovely Ladies?” He did indeed. “Yes, Digger,” he replied, “Lady Alicia Ariadne Anouska Helen Harborne, and Countess Lady Lisk….ahhh….ahhh….ard….” the really rough raised ridges always were worse with a hurting hiney, “….this is Andrew Rand and Jack Stonewall….” they all shook hands, “….we’re somewhat short of seats, so can’t invite you to join us.” They both appeared pained. “It’s all right, Shagger,” said Lady Licia, “Digger’s invited us to have some lunch with him….although we’ll still stay standing….” uh..huh, “….you can tell them what happened.”
The noble knight smiled widely. “It’s a case of history repeating itself,” he said, “since I accosted these lovely Ladies wandering around the school, clearly lost. I enquired of them, and it seems their car radiator required some water….” as had happened to the noble knight, “….so I escorted them up to The Headmaster’s study….” Oops, “….whereupon in similar circumstances to my good self many years ago, they were both thrashed thoroughly by Thrasher Thring. However, as serial subbie sluts, they were both delighted to be beaten by the beak.” Ohh.
“Did he charge for the water this time?” he enquired. “No,” he confirmed, “however he invited them to attend Stern Hall tomorrow evening. He said he’d be happy to show them his electromechanical fucking machine….” which made a change from etchings, “….and afterwards, they’d be welcome to spend the night in the cells. As an optional extra, they could be given a good going over on Monday morning by his son Thor, role-playing the Sadistic Screw.” Which would work well. “I wasn’t expecting your Mother today,” he said, “but obviously you’re both more than welcome to attend the service. There’ll probably be some spare space at the Reception, what with the inevitable No Shows. I’m sure Digger will help you with directions to the main assembly hall, otherwise you’ll never find it.” They both smiled.
“Thanks, Shagger,” said the Countess, “we’ll take you up on it. He’s suggested we take a tour of the school….” she giggled, “….hopefully ending up at his study….?” for what-ho? “….I’m sorry Summer School’s only open to sometime scholars….” as he’d explained at the Pennance Reformatory, “….but we’ve both signed up with Sue Sweet for Shagger’s Schoolday Sojourns next year….” Lady Licia licked her lips, “….we’ll have something to eat, Mum,” she said, “and then sort out the radiator.”
They all strutted away. “Licia’s a rich bitch,” he said softly, “and an heiress….the daughter of belted earl. I met her in a No Tell hotel in London last month. They ARE both serial subbie sluts, as Digger said. Alas the Earl of Liskeard is vitriolic vanilla, in addition to being a Dominant dolt.” Who could actually do with being Reformed. “I like your style, Shagger,” said Jack Stonewall, “presumably you screwed her?” He nodded. “Yes,” he replied, “and wouldn’t mind making her Mother.” There were two wide winks. “Nor me….” he replied, “….and me,” added Randy Andy, absently, “if the noble knight needs assistance, I’m happy to help….as an Awesome Foursome.”
“Which more or less wraps up Summer School,” he said, “I dressed for the Wedding….a matter of moments, since it was only the application of naccatape on my nuts. Then I collected my suitcase from dad’s car, and put my pink bag inside. Sir Digby’s Roller had already arrived, so I transferred them into the trunk of DV 1….the one which he keeps at his home at Burnham Down.” She thought about this. “How many does he own, Shagger?” she asked.
“It’s a fleet of five,” he replied, “with others located in London and Lancaster. I don’t know about the other two….” not so much well orf, but filthy rich, “….I would have hoofed it to the Parish Church, since you’ll recall there isn’t actually any vehicular access….” she HAD noticed, “….I don’t think it mattered too much in the olden days, what with horse-drawn carts….” he grimaced slightly, so presumably there’d be a point presently to the historical meanderings? “….but Alf The Elf was happy to help with a lift. The chauffeur dropped me off, and I confirmed he should collect the Bride from the main entrance hall at about a quarter to three. Then I was able to help dad with setting out all the chairs on the grass. Obviously at some stage they’d need to be transported back to the main assembly hall, but it really wasn’t my problem. Relay turned up at two o’clock, and lent us a hand. As he was also in the Naked Waiter wear, the all-important rings were on a thin chain around his neck. Then Amen Carmen and BSc….” his private parlance for Basil Sileas Crabbe, “….arrived from The Rectory to set everything up at the front. Finally, I heard Big Ben striking for three o’clock in the distance, but there was no sign of Bren.
Anxiously, he stood in the front pew….or rather row of chairs. Relay was in convivial conversation with his Mother, who was dressed formally for the occasion. However it appeared to be about how they might screw at some stage? Then Jessica Smith ambled over. “Wotcha, Shagger,” she said, “there’s a few days spare after your honeymoon before you start at University. I’m hopeful to have a hump, so make sure you’re not completely spunked out when you bring Bren back….” his tool twitched, “….uhhh….uhhh,” he moaned as Jesse James massaged his manhood, “….I gather Domme did you earlier, but it seems you can still present a passably pulsing penis….” which would make his wedlock worse, “….here comes the Bride.” Perhaps not quite, but about sodding time too….since he’d slightly suggested in her study she shouldn’t be late. Still, he obviously wasn’t about to make an issue of it.
He watched and waited whilst Silage took several stills of her emerging from DV 1. She was looking really radiant….the Miss Whiplash wear in white. It was a bodice which completely failed to cover her beautiful bottom or both boobs….and down at the front, the cunt. There were long Sinatra-style laced thigh-boots, matching gloves and a spiked Mistress collar. However, instead of a bouquet of flowers, she was wielding a whip. Then the organ inside the church started with Pachelbel´s Canon in D. She started along the aisle, and the three Bridesmaids fell into line behind her….Burdizzo Babes, black-booted brunette beauties with dark glasses.
They were next-to nude, whilst wearing only black peaked hats, the briefest of black bras, and matching….well, briefs. The latter two were tied together with a selection of straps, seemingly stunningly strict and stern. It was the combination of red lipstick on mean mouths with hands held hard on hips which made them so supremely snoggable. They each had a holstered Cattle Prod, like the recently recruited Touch-up Teams on tube trains. They stop sex-pests and public perverts like me from touching up the talent….”
Also her as a Bums Babe, but fortunately fondling fellas’ fannies was a free felony for floozies.
“….and the guys got their groins grilled. When the procession reached the front, the Bride turned and threw the whip into the air. It was caught by Miffy Smiffy, the traditional implication being she’d be next to get hitched.
“The actual service was sort-of standard,” he said, “although there were a few amendments, as agreed previously with the Reverend Carmen Jones. When we reached the, ‘Who gives this….’ part of the proceedings, it was, ‘….mere male in marriage to this lovely Lady,’ when my Mother confirmed, ‘I do.’ We each agreed to forsake no others….” probably wise, in the circumstances of it not being monotonous monogamy, “….and although we both promised to Love and Honour, it was only me who also agreed to Obey. I put Bren’s wedding ring onto her finger, however she applied a Wedlock to my willy. It’s a solid steel cylinder which sits snugly over the shaft, and makes masturbation more or less impossible. All the married males wore them, however the single studs suffered KTBs….” he gave a grimace, “….medium versions, as I’m wearing now….ouch. Finally we reached the end of the vows….”
“….and I pronounce you Wife and mere male….” thunderous applause, “….you may now kiss the bride….on her vertical lips.” He knelt and she spread her legs….FLASHH “….Uhhh….Uhhh….Uhhh,” she moaned as he tongued twat….SLAPP “….AHHH,” he gasped as she slapped him soundly….FLASHH “….enough for now….hubby. You’ll have plenty of opportunities later….and with the horizontal ones as well.” There was loud laughter.
“So we signed the register,” he continued, “and were ready for our grand exit. I dropped down to the ground again, and Bren applied a pink studded collar and long leather leash. We went along the aisle to the tune of an old Blondie track, played over the sound system. Atomic is incredibly erotic….do you recall any of the lyrics?” She thought for a moment. “Tonight,” she intoned, “make it magnificent….tonight….make me tonight.” Pretty please. “I’ll try to do the same for you this evening,” he confirmed, “and then there was also the chorus….UHHH..UHHH….Atomic….UHHH..UHHH….tomic….UHHH..UHHH….” he shivered slightly, “….I’ve often wanked worthlessly whilst watching Deborah Harry on AudioVisual Record.” He and many million more mere males masturbating manhood.
FLASHH FLASHH….went more cameras as he crawled behind his new Bride, Ogling Obviously Over her….well, behind. It WAS one of the best bums in the business, and the originator of the Mrs Shagton Rear Of The Year awards. But might it be Originatress? The three Burdizzo Babes followed him a few feet away….Sizzzcrackkk “….AGHHH….” Sizzzcrackkk “….AGHHH,” he gasped as he was whipped well by his new Sister-in-law….ZZZZZZ “….UGHHH….” ZZZZZZ “…..UGHHH,” he moaned as his balls were repeatedly zapped by The Cattle Prod….in the capable hands of the other two Bridesmaids. From the strength of the scrotum and shaft shocks, he’d say they were set to sound.
Finally after an eternity he reached the end, and angled himself by the waiting Trap. However it held only one person, with haulage by human horse….FLASHH “….OHHH,” he gasped as his wonderful Wife stepped across his shoulders. Slowly he stood, whilst Ursula Smith and Shirley Greene busied themselves in applying a pink leather body harness and bridle….FLASHH “….MMMM,” he moaned as they placed the pink rubber bit between his teeth. Then he stood between the sidebars and picked up the handles. Myfanwy Smith passed his Bride the long leather leash, and returned her whip….Sizzcrackkk “….AGHHH,” he gasped. “Whip-crack-away, Davy,” she called out, as a reincarnation of Doris Day on the Deadwood stagecoach. How he’d love to have been whipped into shape by Calamity Jane.
“It was hard graft in high heels….” he said, mopping his mouth, and pushing aside his empty plate, “….however there wasn’t any hurry, since all the guests were walking. Finally, we reached the side entrance of the main assembly hall. I was let loose, but she kept me collared. We strutted inside and stood by the double doors, greeting everyone. My dad and Bren’s stepfather….John F Kennedy, both handed out apéritifs. Then we ascended the Podium, to take our places at the top table. The caterers had done a grand job, and everything was laid out. Amen Carmen said the Grace, and we all started on the food. At least I was able to shed my shoes for the duration. It was about half an hour later before we’d finally finished, and then it was the speeches. First up was the Mother of the Bride, and Jessica Smith welcomed me into the family. She offered anecdotes about how she shared several similarities with her darling daughter. These included a deep desire for David’s distended dick.
She confirmed her phone number, and had set up an attic flat in Nixborough for naughty nooky. Willies would be welcome for what-ho after what-for….with the application of all agonies onto an appropriately aching arse. She concluded with the traditional toast to the newlyweds….for which I took a politely small sip of the champagne. Next it was the Bride’s speech, and she started with a summary of her spouse. She said I’d started out shockingly shy, however with her help I’d become an incorrigible exhibitionist. She made much mention of my neat little bottom, and also some seven inches of circumcised sin. It was all seriously sexist stuff, and in reverse circumstances the Lovely Ladies Liberation Lobby wouldn’t have liked it a lot….” surely it was their turn, after so many centuries of mere males having it their own way? “….then she talked about herself.”
“As most of you will know,” she said, “my personal pedigree at The Styx is hailing from the K series of dorms, culminating in The Six Knackerers. My placement was perfect….so thanks, Sue….” the School Secretary waved from her table, “….enabling almost unlimited opportunities for villains’ Victim nights. I’ve always enjoyed the sport, right from a very early age, when it first became apparent bad boys had a weakness….well, two….” mild mirth, “….according to dearest Davy, it was his favourite friend, John Diamond….is he here….?” there was another wave, “….who put a particularly pithy perspective on the process.
First it’s the flex of the fingers, then the feel on the flesh, followed by the flat forehand, and finally the fear of a fuck-free future fate….” more mirth, mostly from the floozies, “….so let’s give him a big hand….” loud applause, “….talking of hands, will all the studs stand….?” she waited, “….the lovely Ladies should take a glass in one hand, and gently grab a gonads in the other….?” another wait, and now his balls were hers, “….an extra toast to testicles, since it’s soundly squeezed scrotums which show Superiority….To Testicles….” the phrase was repeated with evident enthusiasm from all across the hall, “….and now, as they say at St Templars School….Knacko! Will everyone now knacker naughty nuts for a nasty nine.”
“So the floozies all had their fun,” he said, “followed inevitably by much penile pain, as either the KTB’s or Wedlocks did their worst. When we’d sat down again, she finished with a toast to her parents. This included William Henry Smith….” both Brenda’s and Myfanwy’s philandering father, “….who was sitting a few feet away, with his delightfully Dominant Mistress. I was already aware how she was a Lufthansa airline Stewardess based in Berlin. Apparently she straps studs into their seats on duty….and straps their seats off-duty. He’d introduced me to Herrin Susi Quetsch….normally known as Susie Q, after the ancient 1950’s pop song by Dale Hawkins. However her surname translates as Crush….” Ouch, “….and just demonstrated her competent crotch crushing capabilities on him. Then it was the second-best man’s speech, and Relay arose. Traditionally this has been a chance for humour, and he was on fine form.”
“Lovely Ladies,” he announced gravely, “and anyone else present….” titters, “….this is the point in the proceeding where you can normally let your hair down….” several sniggers, as he pointed to his head, “….a convincing crew cut is what happens when one attends a Reformatory….” gasps, “….alas I DO need quite a bit of Reforming….” giggles, “….as indeed does the groom, in similar circumstances….” he touched my similarly shaven head, “….we share what I’ve called a Common Comradely Continuing Commitment to Cute Cunt….” more mirth, “….as this has been a Dominatrix do, I should really style myself as the least-worst man….” laughter, “….although presently on the Podium, I’m surrounded by sinners. It’s worthwhile to note how both Bride and groom, his Mother and father….and me, have all been beaten with The Big or Biggest One….or both....” more giggles, “….for which we must thank The Professor and his unworthy successor in title….” he paused, “….by all accounts ensconced in Alcatraz….” gasps, “….though he’s hopeful to be let out later….for bad behaviour….” more mirth, “….so let’s hear it for Thrasher Thring, without whose rattan our rears would have been far less raw over the years….”
rapturous applause from all around the room, whilst The Professor stood and bowed politely, “….I did consider asking him to bring Ten:PM:GMT with him this afternoon, and subject Shagger to a time of testicular torments….” several sniggers from the sluts and stony silence from the studs, “….but who knows, maybe the groom might manage the patent electromechanical Knackering Machine later, with the help of his Missus….?” he glanced at her with worry, and she smiled sweetly, “You can enjoy my wedding present this evening, Shagger,” said Wodin Tiberius Thring loudly, before regaining his seat, “….but notwithstanding knackered nuts, I thought a few words about how they first met would be appropriate.” Relay took a sip of champagne, and started the saga.
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