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From: wgnmkr@aol.com (Wgnmkr)
Subject: Family of the bride (Ff, Mf, inc)
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                      Family of the Bride
     I'm 21 years old and it's my wedding day.  The hem of my dress is bunched
up on my
lower back as I'm bent over a table, and I feel my youngest brother's dick
sodomizing me.  As his
hands grip my hips and his dick moves slowly in and out of my ass, I'm thinkng
back fives years
ago to my sixteenth birthday when this all started.
     My friends had just left, leaving my mother and me alone.   My father, two
older brothers
and younger brother had gone out during the birthday party.  We cleaned up and
were sitting in
front of the television when my mother turned it off and looked at me.
     "Today, Sara," she said, "is a special day not only for you, but your
family too.  It's been a
tradition that the women in our family start training for the day when a
special man takes us from
being a girl to being a woman."
     "Mom, if this is about sex, I already know about that."
     "No, dear, it's about more than sex.  It's about making the men in your
life happy.  I've
done it, both your grandmothers, their mothers before them....And for you, it
starts right now,
today."
     She smiled at me, patted my knee and said, "Come on, follow me."
     She took me by the hand and led me upstairs, pulled a ladder from the
ceiling that led to
the attic, and we climbed up.  We were plunged into total darkness as she
pulled the ladder up
after us.  Before I could say anything she shushed me and snapped on a small
light.  In front of me
was a black padded gymnastics horse with a wooden T behind it, probably
attached to the horse,
and black leather wrist straps hanging from each arm of the T.
     "Come," my mother said, taking me by the wrist and buckling on of the
straps on it.
     "Mom, what are you doing?"
     "Beginning your training, dear."
     "Training?  Training for what?"
     "Trust me, dear."
     She took my other wrist and buckled the other around it, so now I was
slightly bent over
the horse and could hardly move.  My mom went to a large black chest and opened
it, rummaged
around for a bit, then brought out a plain thin black leather collar.  She put
it around my neck and
buckled it.
     "Mom, what is this?" I pleaded.
     "This is a collar signifying your approach to womanhood," she said with a
smile, then
warned, "and you are to never take it off, under any circumstances."
     "Why? Mom, tell me what's going on."
     "You're sixteen today, and girls your age start to show independence from
their families,
start rebelling from their fathers and mothers, thinking they know everything
there is to know
about life.  Well, tonight, I'm going to make you think otherwise.  When you
turn eightteen,
you're going to be in this family and not a part of something else, and when a
special man takes
you from being a girl to being a woman, you will be prepared for it."
     Then my mother went back to the chest and pulled out a wide black belt.  I
gasped when I
saw it and was afraid of what she would do with it.  She explained to me that
that was the belt she
and her mother were beaten with, and she was going to continue the tradition by
beating me. 
Then she got behind me and undid my jeans and pulled them anad my white cotton
panties down
around my ankles.  At first she started softly, lightly patting my bare bottom
with the cold leather
belt.  I pleaded, although it didn't hurt, for her to stop, but she just
shushed me.  As she
continued, the strokes across my bare ass got harder, and I squealed in pain as
the stings shot
through my cheeks, legs and body.  I began to cry and yell out as she continued
beating me,
hoping my dad would hear if he came home, but no one answered my pleas except
my mother and
the leather strap she beat me with.  She beat me without remorse that night for
about two hours,
and since my hips were pinned against the horse I couldn't move to lessen the
pain, and my ass
burned and was a dark red.  When it ended, my mother unbuckled the wrist straps
and I sunk
against the horse, rubbing my red hot burning sixteen year old ass. 
Unexpectedly, my mother
consoled me and rubbed some cooling cream on it.  Then she left me there,
draped across the
horse and crying.
     The beating I got that night was the worse beating I received in my
sixteenth year of life. 
My mother gave me other beatings with the strap as I was pinned in the wrist
straps against the
horse in the attic.  About once or twice a month my mother beat me, sometimes
for no reason,
sometimes because I displeased her, but the first beating was the worst I got.
     On my seventeenth birthday, after the party and after my friends left, my
mother took me
to the attic for the last time and gave me another severe beating, but she told
me it would be the
last because the past year of beatings had taken any hope of independence from
me.  During my
seventeenth year, my mother put me naked in the wrist straps and horse and let
me stand there,
sometimes overnight, letting the cool attic air chill my whole body.  On some
weekends, she
brought her friends up to see me, letting them admire my teen body, commenting
on how much of
a woman's body I was growing in to.  Sometimes they would fondle my tits,
squeeze my ass or
caress my thighs.  My mother explained that it was more training because it got
me used to being
seen naked by anyone and being broken in to someone touching me in my "womanly"
places.  At
the beginning of the year, I was struggling against the hands on my tits and
ass, but as the year
closed out, the touching became an aphrodisiac and I looked forward to the
women touching me.
     With one week remaining before my eightteenth birthday, my mother took me
into the
kitchen.  The kitchen table had a thick blanket on top and rope was tied to the
legs and laid on top
over the blanket.  I assumed it was for me, and it was.  My mother told me to
take my clothes off
and lay on the table where my legs dangle over the edge and my ass as just and
the edge.  Then
she tied my ankles to the legs of the table, spreading my legs as wide as they
could go.  Then she
tied my hand to the other legs, and there I lay, spread eagle on the table top,
tied up.
     As she ran her fingernails lightly over my tight stomach, tickling me
somewhat, she said,
"This is where and how a special man will take you into womanhood."  Her eyes
followed her
fingers across my stomach, but her thoughts were far away.
     For the rest of week, she would tie me up across the table for about an
hour or two.  And
during those hours, none of my brothers of father saw me.  I thought it
strange, because my
mother would untie me just before they got home.  I thought it was just more
"being naked for
anyone" training.
     I didn't have the normal birthday I had the previous two years.  My mother
forbade me to
throw a party with my friends because she insisted it would be a private family
party.  Just like the
rest of the week, she tied me up to the table, and instead of leaving, she sat
in a chair and waited. 
We waited for two hours, her in the seat, me spread eagle across the table. 
Then suddenly I heard
the front door open, looked at mom and pleaded with her to untie me before my
brothers and
father saw me like this.  But apparently that was the idea.  The four came into
the kitchen with a
birthday cake, balloons, and other party favors, and everyone shouted, "Happy
Birthday!"
     I struggled against the ropes that held me spread eagle to the table,
trying to cover up
even after my year of nudity in the attic.  I never expected this.  My brothers
circled my naked
body, looking between my legs at my pussy, marveling at the dark curls and
pouting pink lips, and
staring at my tits, flatten somewhat against my ribcage because my hands where
tied over my
head.  
     "This is the day, honey," my mother whispered in my ear and kissed me on
the cheek.
     "Look," one of my older brothers remarked, "you can see her pussy turning
eightteen."
     They all snickered at the comment, all except my father who told them
directly to shut up. 
But he was looking at me too, staring at the naked female he created with my
mother, tied before
him, spread eagle on the table.  Then he took a position between my legs,
staring down at my
pussy.  He reached out and caressed my thighs, my muscles tightening up to his
touch and
straining against the ropes.  Then he began to unbuckle his pants.
     The words "a special man" began to race through my mind.  For the past two
years, my
mother kept telling me that she was training me for the time when "a special
man" would take me
from being a girl to being a woman.  I chirped with the realization that the
special man my mother
told me about was my own father!
     I watched him as he pulled down his pants and underwear, exposing his
half-erect penis. 
He put his finger to my pussy, massaging the soft flesh of my pussy and
tickling the dark pubic
hair that surrounded it.  He bent over me and began to kiss my thighs, then
moved up to my hips,
licking my pink skin, leaving a trail of saliva as he moved up to my tits.  He
suckled my nipples
into his mouth, making them hard.  Around my knee and thigh I could feel his
dick getting harder
and larger as he sucked my tits.  Content that he was stiff enough, he put the
head of his dick
against my virgin pussy and gently pushed through the unbroken hymen.   A pain
shot through my
body and I squealed as he pushed further into me.  Finally he stopped pushing
until his entire dick
was lodged inside me.  He didn't begin fucking me until a few minutes had
passed and the pain
subsided a little.  When he did start rocking back and forth on top of me, the
pain returned, but as
he continued fucking his only daughter, the pain eased and finally disappeared.
     My eyes were closed, but I could feel the rest of my family staring at me,
being fucked by
my father on the kitchen table.  I didn't want to look at them, and especially
not at my father.  I
felt him though, moving in and out of me, suckling my tits, running his hands
up and down the
sides of my body.  The table wobble under the weight of his fucking and I
thought, and hoped, it
would crumble, but it didn't.  His motions began to quicken and his breathing
heavier, and my
intuition told me he was about to come.  The hot sperm shot into me, filling my
womb, burning
the walls as it coated my insides.  His motions slowed, and I felt several more
squirts of hot sperm
inside me.  He finally finished and dismounted me.  Some of his sperm mingled
with the blood of
my spoiled virginity as it oozed out of the hole between my pussy lips.
     My birthday wasn't over, however.  To my horror, each of my brother
mounted me and
fucked me too.  My two older brother left me tied on my back, but my younger
brother untied me,
made me lean over the table and tied me up again, and sodomized me.  The pain
of my virginity
went away when my father fucked me, but the pain of my first sodomy lingered
through the rest
of the day.  After my birthday fucks from the men in my family, I was untied
and me and my
mother went to the bathroom to clean me up.  When we returned, the cake was set
out on the
table and we continued on with my birthday party.
     For the next three years, my brothers and father continued to fuck me.  My
brothers
especially liked to wake me up in the middle of the night and gang bang me.  I
would suck off my
oldest brother, the next older brother would be laying on the bed and I'd
straddle him, his dick
inside my cunt, and my younger brother would fuck my ass.  Whenever they had
sex with me one
at a time, that's the acts I usually did.  After coming home, my older brother
would make my suck
his dick, the second oldest would fuck me doggy-style, mostly at night before
going to bed, and
the younger would always sodomize me.  I don't even think my younger brother
even knew
where my pussy was.  Sometimes, though, instead of gang banging me, they'd make
me lay with
my head at the corner of my bed so they could stand around me, make me suck
their dicks, then
they'd give me a facial.
     My father wasn't as nasty as my brothers.  Maybe about once a month he'd
come into my
bedroom, make me stand naked in front of him so he could explore my naked body,
then lay on
top of me and fuck me missionary style for about twenty minutes.  I actually
got to enjoy my
father's visits because it felt good the way he would suckle my tits and slowly
fuck his dick in and
out of me.  I always orgasmed, too.
     So this continued on for three years, until now, my wedding day.  I could
feel my younger
brother shudder as he came in my as for the last time.  Throughout the whole
day, my brothers
and father took their last fuck from me until my husband took over the task of
fucking me.  I
straightened up by bridal dress, and, as I walked out of the room into the
anteroom of the house, I
could feel my brother's cum ooze from between my cheeks and down my leg.  I
hooked my arm
in my father's and we proceeded through our living room into the back yard
where my husband
awaited his new bride.

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