Escape! - a Samantha's Shame Story
  by Delta Venus


My last journal entry! I am finally free of Betsy, and I just
can't believe it. It all happened so fast, my head has been in a
whirl. About a week after my birthday banging, Paul got the good
news that he had been accepted to attend a prestigious college
out of state. The day after that, he was down on bended knee,
proposing.

I accepted in a heartbeat!

The first thought I had when I saw him bend down was just how
lucky I was to have found someone so special. He looked so sweet,
nerdishly handsome and innocent. Escaping Betsy took a whole two
or three seconds to enter my mind. I would be free, and be with
the man I love. Who could ask for more? I was ecstatic!

Of course, with a sister like Betsy, I should have known my
escape wouldn't be simple and the road to freedom would cross
some rough territory.

Betsy never said a word, which was scary. Even scarier was the
Mona Lisa style half smile that would cross her face any time she
overheard someone talking about the wedding. I hoped she would
take it easy on me, after all it was to be my special day. I knew
there was no way she wouldn't make me do something, though. I was
quite giddy with anticipation of the event, even as I was
dreading what Betsy was sure to have planned. I just hoped she
wouldn't ruin the ceremony. I was willing to do just about
anything, so long as she kept this part of my life away from the
church. I was too scared to ask her to leave it alone, even
though I felt like begging on my hands and knees, positive that
if I brought it up at all it would make things much worse, and
ensure she would do exactly what I asked her not to.

The preparations went in a whirlwind. I don't remember half the
things I did, I was so caught up in the whole planning scene.
Planners, vendors, and rental agencies, photographers, florists
and caterers - all bloodsucking leaches, fresh on the scent.
Those bridal magazines should be illegal!

I chose a more modern, sleek and sexy wedding dress. Creamy
white, with only a few frills, it came down to just above my
knees, and showed off a generous portion of cleavage without
being too vulgar. It really showed off my long, lean legs to
great effect, looking absolutely killer clad in white silk hose.
And my shoes! Oh, I really found a pair - cutaway open-toe pumps
in a creamy white, to match the dress, with sparkly highlights in
the gloss. They had three inch heels, and while exposed on the
sides, the backs came up past the heel to a wide ribbon bow, all
lacy frills and sparkles, that tied around my ankle. Definitely
"Fuck me!" shoes, Bridal Style.

Betsy came and snatched me fifteen minutes before the ceremony,
shortly after I was fully dressed and in veil. We made it back to
the church about a half hour late, and all eyes were definitely
on me as I entered. That is to be expected, but I still felt very
self conscious. I managed the trip down the aisle without
incident, though.

I know I'm far from an impartial observer, but I thought the
ceremony was beautiful, although I was more than a little
distracted during it. I tried really hard to pay attention, for
this was my special day, and I wanted to remember everything
about it. I had some things I didn't really want to remember
intruding into my thoughts, though. After we exchanged rings, we
said our vows.

"Do you Paul take Samantha, to have and to hold, forsaking all
others, for as long as you both shall live?"

Paul looked so handsome as he strongly said "I DO."

"And do you Samantha take Paul, to have and to hold, forsaking
all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

I tried my best, but did little better than mumble "i do..."

"I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. You may kiss the Bride!"

Paul lifted my veil, and gave me a solid kiss, quickly getting
over his shock. I don't think anyone in the audience noticed a
thing, even though they were all focused on us.

We escaped down the aisle, and took a short hop in the limousine
to the Reception party, guzzling champagne, which did help with
the taste. The party didn't take long to get into swing. We cut
the cake, I threw my bouquet for the ladies, and Paul took off my
garter to throw to the gentlemen. I know Paul got a good look at
the mess, but no one else did, thank God. The garter had avoided
getting mussed, so the lucky guy that caught it didn't have a
clue, either. There was a lot of dancing, and eating, and
drinking. Eventually the party wound down, and the guests all
left, making the usual cracks about leaving the newlyweds alone,
wink, wink.

After everyone had gone, Betsy and more than a few friends showed
back up, and we had a second Reception Party. Making sure all the
doors were locked, Betsy quickly took charge. Paul was forced to
strip, sit in a chair, and masturbate while he watched video of
what I had been doing before the ceremony when Betsy had snatched
me. They made him comment about everything, what he was feeling,
and what turned him on. The sweet dear, here he is watching my
pussy take a severe pounding by several hard poles, and he keeps
commenting about my eyes! He says they have a smoky, smoldering
intensity when I am aroused. Blush!

While he watched the video, and stoked his very erect cock, I was
stripped of my dress and veil, left wearing nothing but the white
silk hose and my "Fuck the Bride!" pumps, and was sucking the
cocks of Betsy's friends. They all pulled out of my mouth, to
shoot their loads on my Bridal Veil, which had been carefully
laid out, although two guys opted to send streaming shots
directed at my gaping snatch, just to freshen up the glaze.

The video Paul was watching showed my abduction, abuse, and
return to the church in graphic detail. The five guys were
careful not to mess up my dress while they took turns fucking me.
After all five hard dicks had been inside me at least twice, I
was forced to suck each of them until they were ready to cum, and
then they sprayed my well fucked pussy with showers of semen. Now
very well coated, I was put back into my dress, and driven back
to the church. On the way I was sucking on Chad's big black cock,
the first guy to fuck me at my birthday bang. Just as we pulled
up to the front doors, Chad pulled his cock out, and shot his
load into my wide open mouth.

This vision of loveliness, dressed in symbolic virgin white, had
walked down the aisle with a raw, gaping pussy that had been
glazed like a donut not ten minutes earlier, while holding a
mouthful of a black studs semen deposited there right at the
front door. Paul had been a real trooper when I passed the
mouthful of creamy cum to him as he gave me our nuptial kiss at
the direction of the preacher.

Once the video was over, Paul and I were dragged over in front of
another man of the cloth. A real preacher, or a fake, I never did
find out. Paul was made to kneel beside me, while I stayed
standing. Once again we found ourselves repeating Wedding Vows,
except these were a little different from the first ones.

"Do you Paul, promise to love, honor and obey Sam, no matter how
many guys she may suck, or dicks she may fuck? To always love and
pleasure her, be she clean or covered in cum? Will you honor
Sam's shameful true nature by never interfering with her sexual
exploitation and humiliation in public or in private?"

Paul wasn't quite as confident with this one, but the dear man
said it clearly.

"I do".

"Do you Shameful Slutty Sam, promise to be true to your inner
nature, and submit to public exposure, humiliation, and sexual
use and abuse by any and every man that recognizes your inner
slut? Will you promise to always share both your body, and your
shameful behavior with your husband Paul, for so long as he shall
still want your skanky ass? Do you promise to be a slutty cunt,
but to be HIS slutty cunt?"

This was scary, but much easier to say without a mouthful of cum.

"I do."

"You may kiss the bride."

Paul's face was roughly shoved into my steamy snatch, and only
after he had given me a solid minute of oral pleasure, which left
his face quite smeared, was he allowed to stand, and give me a
real kiss. He had to peel the veil up off my face, as it was cum
streaked, sopping and sticking to me, but he didn't hesitate, and
gave me a generous kiss in spite of the oozing mess.

We made our escape soon after that.

EPILOGUE

Well, here is another journal entry. I know I said the previous
one would be my last, but who can tell the future? I surely
couldn't. I never would have guessed that I would actually miss
the treatment my bitch sister Betsy gave me, but I did.

At first being completely free was wonderful. I enjoyed knowing
that there would be no more perverted and embarrassing tasks
thrust upon me at the drop of a hat. It didn't take long, though,
before I began to crave the domination and embarrassment. I tried
to just be a slut, and the sex was fun, but it just didn't have
that electric charge that came with being forced.

Paul was great. He could tell I was bothered, and he knew me well
enough to know why. He tried his best to be dominant for me, but
he is just too sweet and gentle. He doesn't have the cruel streak
that marks the truly great dominant personality. He would often
ask me to do things. Being asked just isn't the same as being
told. Our lovemaking was wonderful, full of passion, but it just
wasn't scratching that itch I had. We avoided talking about it
for some time, until one day Paul finally broached the subject.

"Maybe we should invite your sister Betsy out for a visit."

"Oh, Paul, could we!?"

Betsy arrived with Chad in tow.

"I hope you don't mind that I brought Chad along. You see, I've
been feeling a little guilty. I sort of led him on, and implied
for some time that he would get to take your cherry, Sam. Very
naughty of me. I'm hoping to make it up to him. You do still have
something cherry he can take, don't you, slut?"

Within five minutes of knocking on our door, Paul was seated in
one of our easy chairs, and I was naked, bent over the arm of the
chair and draped across his lap. Paul lubed up Chad's big black
prick with KY, applied a solid dollop to my puckered anus, then
my dear husband gently held my cheeks apart so Chad could slide
his cock inside my virgin ass.

We invite Betsy out to our place two or three times a year. She
doesn't always dominate me, but when she does it is intense
enough to hold me until the next visit.

That ends the journal, and my "escape". Who can tell what
tomorrow might bring?

DV

http://deltavenus.bestdamnpornblogs.com/