Armie Field's Cuck Wedding

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Discovering one is a cuckold is actually quite a clear process.
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This is a cuckold story. If you don't like this genre, feel free to not read it. I don't read stories that don't appeal to me, I don't know why anyone else would.

If you read this story, and then comment complain that it is a cuckold story, then you sir, are a dumb ass.

For erotic purposes, the term Muslim is used to describe many of the characters. It is meant to be part of the degradation of the protagonist. It is NOT meant in any way to denigrate Muslims.

Discovering one is a cuckold is actually quite a clear process. Instead of being jealous when others look at your girl, you become excited. When others flirt with her, you get horny. When they touch her, your erection is harder than steel. Some girls won't understand, others will catch on. And the one who will make your fantasy come true is your dream girl.

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Of course everything was late. I stood with my groomsmen at the alter. The pastor looked a bit miffed but tried to keep a cheery face on. In my pocket my smart phone vibrated. Now normally, you are thinking, I would not think of looking at it. But the ceremony was already 5 minutes late, and I was hoping to get some kind of update on the situation. My wife to be was actually upstairs. She was donning her wedding regalia here in the Church complex. There was a room for this, and it simplified what is otherwise a complicated day.

It was a text from the bridesmaid. Armie (my fiancé) had ushered all her attendants from the dressing room as soon as her gown was on and she was fully dressed, made up, hair done , and ready for marriage. With a nimble finger, I tapped out a reply, trying to keep my phone as inconspicuous as possible. She probably wanted to pray a moment, I said. But foreboding rippled through me, surely, she would do nothing here? In the church? On her wedding day? Technically the wedding ceremony had already begun I think.

The next buzz of my phone was from Armie. I opened the conversation, which turned out to be video. Armie stood before me in the sexiest wedding dress imaginable. Bright white satin. It rose up past mid thigh, with white stockings covering the shapely athletic legs down to gleaming white platform high heels. I mean those heels were maybe 9 inches or more. The top of the dress was a quarter cup, barely holding the colossal breasts that plumped up and out of the top. This dress put stripper outfits to shame. But everyone knew my Armie, she was hot, spicy, fiery, and soon to be Mrs. Armie Field. With the heels she would be several inches taller than me at the alter, but she would be happy and have it no other way for "her" day.

Quickly I glanced about. The pastor noticed me looking at my phone, and gave me a hopeful smile, asking with his eyes "Are we about ready to go?" The groomsmen, if they noticed me with my phone, surely put it down to some last minute cajoling to get the bride down here. Although they stood near me in a line, they were looking about amiably, whispering a short comment to one another every once in a while. The church was packed. Many I am sure attending only to get a good eyeful of my bride in her dress, which she had been bragging about. You'd think she was going to sell tickets to the ceremony, the way she built it up these last few weeks on her facebook.

I know, it's bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony. But my eyes soaked her in, and my penis snapped to attention. Or tried. Sharp pain from my poor cock as the cock cage did it's job, unyielding for these past three months. I tried to stifle my grimace, and tried not to bend at the waist from the painful spikes digging into my meat. Unable to avert my gaze from Armie in her hot dress, bolts of electricity continuously shot into my penis, commanding an erection. Torturing the sensitive glands against the sharp spikes built to punish such activity.

Armie mouthed "Hi baby." to me and waved. She was probably speaking, but my volume was off. Then she angled her phone so I got a slow pan of her from heels, up her legs, finally to her massive bolted on tits and her amazingly beautiful face. "How is little Mr. Dinky doing?" I read her lips. She knew my cage was only constricting to the point of bearable discomfort under normal circumstances, but became excruciating sharp and piercing in the event of the slightest swelling. And she knew exactly the effect her dress had had on me. The pain was on my face, and she could read it so clearly from the countless teases over the last three months.

Holding her phone, she walked across her dressing room. I saw that it was empty, she had shooed everyone out. To the back door (opposite the one to the stairwell, where doubtlessly her maidens waited, completely befuddled) she traipsed. I could see the bounce of her tits. How did they stay in that dress? Beyond this back door stood seven men. They had wolfish faces. I recognized them immediately. They were from the Muslim rights group that I had heckled and spit at during their assembly last week. A pit formed in my stomach.

What was Armie doing? The two of us had had a row about the vows. I insisted the phrase about her obeying me remained in her oath. I agreed to the cock cage, but once married, I was going to be the one in charge.

This "back" room to the changing room actually abutted the main hall. In fact, part of it was in fact a balcony overlooking the stage and assemblage below. She wandered over and pointed the phone so that I could see myself waiting below. Everyone was waiting. She angled the phone so her smiling face was looking back at me on the phone, with me in the distance down by the alter also in the shot.

Then she handed her phone to someone else, one of the seven guys I guess. I looked up from my phone to the balcony. The lights were out and it was dark up there, but if I tried I could make out some shapes. Looking back to my phone, I watched Armie kneel before, what was his name, Ahmad? He was younger than me, built strong, and all around a much tougher seeming individual.

I watched her unzip Ahmad's trousers and reached in for cock. It was double my length and thicker than my wrist. As her face fell upon it, the phone holder clicked on the light. I watched the cock slide in her mouth. She began bobbing, struggling with the size. Again I glanced to the balcony. The light from my bride's phone increased the back illumination slightly. Ahmad was even recognizable. My soon to be wife's head was seen bobbing hungrily, again very dim. No one else seemed to notice, or would unless they very deliberately stared and knew what they were looking for.

"Look, the organ player has another commitment, and I myself am due for a home visit to a parishioner." The pastor had leaned close.

"Okay, let me see what I can do." I whispered back. I fished out my earpiece and put it in my ear that faced away from the filled pews.

Immediately the loud sucking filled my senses. Now I was watching Armie push her face deeper and deeper onto his hard rod, and listened clearly to her slurping, and gagging. My cock tried to surge harder, and was rewarded by spikes. Ahmad weaved his hand into her hair and used his arm to push on the back of her head. He also thrust his pelvis, fucking her face the way he wanted to.

Armie tried to keep the right angle, but often the cock head would strike the back of her throat during thrusts. She would "Ughhh!", wetly gag, than adjust so that the head would plunge down her neck. The bulge below her chin, would become a bulge all the way down her throat, disappearing between her collarbones. In time with Ahmad's fuck thrusts, her slender, sweet, sexy throat convulsed and bulged over and over as the colossal meat repeatedly speared all the way into her. Ahmad would often pause, fully inside her, using his hand to grind her face and lips into his pelvic bone. Deprived of air, my love's eyes would widen after a few moments. The young virile Muslim teased her, let the thought of suffocation fill her mind, before resuming his pleasurable face fucking.

The pleasure on Ahmad's face was immeasurable. I resolved to one day do this to my wife. Of course my dick would not gag her, or prevent her breathing for that matter. But maybe do it just for the sensation of being in her mouth? If she ever let me. Never mind.

Ahmad's ejaculation was like a fire hose. Shot after shot of thick cum blasted her face. Gobs splashed into her hair. Perhaps thinking of her dress, Armie quickly took the erupting cock head back in her mouth. The shaft shook and trembled with never ending bursts. Ahmad stepped away and sat happily into a seat. The phone zoomed in on my bride's face. Armie's face was covered in clumpy cream. The look on her face was something else though. She was trying to keep the hot cum down. She licked her lips (cleaning cum with her tongue) and was using her swallowing muscles, trying not to throw up. How much cum had that been? He had unloaded for over a minute point blank firing down her throat. She opened her mouth, cum coated the insides of her mouth. With the camera pointing in her mouth, cum could been seen in her throat. Rising up? She was going to throw up.

Another, Moham his name? Stepped forward and jammed his cock (were they ALL so much bigger than me? Was I really small?) into her mouth and punched into her neck. Blocking her from throwing up. Moham pushed all the way in and held it there. Armie convulsed, her stomach heaving, but could not vomit all the cum. She twitched, jerked, but could not throw up. After a couple minutes she seemed to calm down. Moham began face fucking her, the wet sounds reaching my ear.

"It's just going to be a few minutes more." I whispered to the Pastor. "Maybe another prayer or song or something?" As if my torment was not on enough levels already, my soon to be mother in law took the stage and began a boring speech in her screeching voice.

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Four speeches later, each more nerve wracking than the previous. The sixth massive Muslim cock withdrew from Armie's mouth. Her sucking had been loud and wet, those on the balcony had not had to endure the orations. Despite her efforts, her hair was glazed with spurts of six different flavors of cum. The wells of thick clumpy semen all over her face could not be accurately attributed to specific donors. It all seemed to mosh together in a goo soup.

There was seven Muslims, right? The last stepped forward. His spear was longer and thicker than my forearm. Armie looked upon it with desperate fright. He pushed her back across a table (I heard this softly from my position down by the alter) and savagely lifted her dress. Her fine silk underwear was ripped brutally off of her. He lined up his pole with the opening between her legs. As sex hungry and adventurous as my love is, her eyes were wide with trepidation. She had never seen anything like this, this was not exactly what she imagined.

Mercilessly he smashed into her. Her scream resounded below and everyone looked up to the balcony. The table was further away from the banister and she was no longer in view, although it was obvious several men were up there. Her torn panties were jammed in her mouth, and he took her in earnest. Her moans reached me in my earpiece, but the assembly returned their, somewhat puzzled, attention to the pulpit.

He was terribly rough on her. I mean he was destroying her pussy. The bulge from his elephant cock pushed up horribly from her trim belly. And the bulge wedged in deeper and deeper, past her navel! Deeper and deeper as she convulsed, kicking her high heeled legs in spasms until it plunged beneath her ribcage and out of sight.

"A baby for wedding day, right?" Was it Ahmad speaking and holding the phone? The brute unloaded inside her. His joy and ecstasy played out with his pole buried to the hilt. Armie was crying from the pussy destruction, her tears mingling with cum on her face.

Armie could not stand when the beast pulled out of her. Cum like molasses coated her pussy. Two of the Arabs helped her stand. Almost immediately, her stomach convulsed. From her mouth poured cum and cum and cum. Like a river it flowed over her bottom lip and down her chin. Like a thick, creamy, stringy, semen waterfall, it slow motion cascaded upon her tits and dress. Her cleavage was filled nearly instantly. She was still convulsing, jizz was still coming up when the phone switched off.

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The strains of "Here comes the bride" finally sounded. I looked up the inclining pathway to see my love of my heart approach in her wedding dress. Her maidens trailed behind, farther behind than might seem usual. Her dress had no 'train' so this was ok.

Murmurs and gasps rippled through the crowd as on lookers got a good look at the bride. Finally she neared me. And I saw. Her dress was drenched. Her tits were giant round cumsicles, glazed with layer after layer of fresh cum. Her face splattered, her dark hair more white from cum than black. The smell of fresh cum filled the huge church. And down the inside of each shapely leg, syrupy, steaming sperm slowly drooled from her pussy.

The cum dried slightly during the ceremony, which went very quickly. Setting a new speed record for the pastor I am sure. I used the vow she wanted, I was to obey her, not the other way around! When I kissed her, they was a gasp from the crowd, and my face came back with cum all over it. With a saucy smile she grabbed my head and pulled it down into her bosom, pushing my face between her tits. There was a sloshing sound as the reservoir of man juice in there covered my face and hair.

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We left the wedding, it was honeymoon time! Two weeks in Barbados! Two weeks of sex! First stop was our hotel where I would get unlocked! Just thinking about it made my dick surge and be skewered. We each returned to our separate rooms from the night before to wash up and change. Of course I was dressed first and hurried to her hotel room.

Inside her room I found her cum drenched wedding dress. She was gone!

My phone buzzed. There was Armie! And the seven Muslim studs!

"Hi baby! On my way to my sex filled honeymoon!" She laughed, two of them had arms around her as they walked, somewhere........entering a limo for the airport!

Out of the corner of my eye I spied the elaborate blue box that held the key to my cock cage! There had been a whole ceremony about the locking and the key being placed in this special box. Like a maniac I opened it..........there was no key.

"Oh, and baby..I kept this!" My key was on a chain around her ankle. She moved her phone down to get a good look at it. "But I left my wedding ring there. It would be weird wearing it while I was having so much fun. Maybe I will put it on when I get back. Make sure not to leave it, put it in your key box."

"But, what, what about......"

"What about your cock? Ha ha. We'll talk more about it when I get back. But just to get you in the right frame of mind, I am kind of wondering how many cocks you would suck off to get released? Don't worry dear, I will call you and video some of my rougher gang bangs. My more intimate love making will be private between me and my favorite men, you are not invited to those."

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500 cocks. 500 cocks jammed in my mouth and down my throat. 500 loads of Muslim cum I had to swallow. It had taken a year and a half, but today was the promised day to be released from my cage. After very nearly two full years! My balls were over swollen sacks, which Armie enjoyed punching on occasion.

This was not exactly how I thought it would go. I trusted my wife right? The guillotine device was fastened so that my penis and balls (still no release after these years!) would be severed upon the pull of the cord. I kneeled beside the mattress on the floor I had been sleeping on since the wedding. My wife's bedroom was only for her and her lovers. Lying on the mattress was Armie, stretched out nude. Seeing her nude was a very very rare treat. But this was my special day. Also in the room was a new man, Achmed. He was very mean, very strong looking. His beard was scraggly but his cock was like a veiny turgid python.

Armie picked up the cord which had a ring on the end for her finger, and to my horror gave it a playful tug, then another. In front of me was a grinder. In the event my 'stuff' was severed, it would fall into the grinder. There would be no re attachment. This business was for real, and for ever.

"So to review, as you know my lovers have been satisfying me all this time. So to be fair to you, this is a new man who has not sexed me before. He is going to fuck me right in front of you. All the time my finger will have the cord to your guillotine attached. Now, if we climax together, me and this stranger, then clearly I do not need your pathetic organ. When we orgasm, I will yank this cord and a slice will unman you forever. But since you are my husband, I will try not to climax, and if I don't, then you can keep what you have."

Within minutes their thrusts were meeting each other. He was rough and mean with his sex and she loved it. Both were building and building. Armie's eyes became glassy and her breath short and gasping. Her fingers convulsed, grapping at the mattress. She was on the edge. A terrific, trembling edge. Her lips quivered. Right on the edge, she raised the hand holding the cord.

"Pl-please, please, uh, let me cum baby! Ahh, it's so good, so deep! Ple uh please let me cum, please." Her legs were shaking, her breasts heaving. He was so deep inside her, far deeper than I could ever dream of touching her.

I opened my mouth to speak. And answered.

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  • COMMENTS
14 Comments
26thNC26thNCover 2 years ago

Who but old Chauncey would be about writing a cuck story?

iameaseliameaselalmost 3 years ago

Its a shame when a cuck cant handle being told what a wimp he is, who, like his wife, prefers a big hard cock.

justfred21justfred21about 8 years ago
Can't blame a guy for trying

I'd be willing to commission your writing services.

justfred21justfred21about 8 years ago
Yes thats what I'm talking about!

Hi chauncygardner,

Firstly I'm sorry to hear those stories came from a bad time in your life. I found a couple of those TDM works on literotica around the mid 2000's, then found an almost complete collection of the rest on a website called t'sade. (whiteshadow sounds familiar but it was a long time ago lol)

I sent you a private message but not being a regular literotica user I'm unsure if you've seen it or replied.

As for your idea, it shouldn't be a surprise for you to know I like it (whats not good about Bikini Ghost Hunters?) and would love you to consider exploring it. If you're worried about getting in trouble it should fuel your moxy to know there's a website called depravityrepository.org where your work would not only be very warmly recieved but also you'll find that you already have a fanbase there (join up and search the forum for "tdm") who wish you wrote more stories. So much so that they have attempted to continue writing in your style and expand the universes you created.

Feel free to email me if you'd like to chat. Crossing my fingers for Bikini Ghost Hunters!

chauncygardnerchauncygardnerabout 8 years agoAuthor
The TDM days?

Hi justfred, you talking about the old TDM works? That goes way back to late 90's. What were those websites? Whiteshadow? Then there was the even darker no holds blackspectre site, right? In the late 90's I was in a very painful place, I don't think I'd ever want to be anywhere like that again. Although...........I DO have an idea, a wiggling little worm of an idea............Bikini Ghost Hunters. Things get Lovecraftian and tentacles, and chili dogs all over. But I'm not sure I have the moxy anymore, and I always worried a bit about getting in trouble.

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