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Subject: {ASSM} new mkarl story "Black Cloud Over the Second Wedding Ceremony" [f/M, ir, nc, preg]
Date: Wed, 31 May 2000 04:10:21 -0400
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Black Cloud over the Second Wedding Ceremony
By Leta with mkarl
[m/F. ir, nc, preg]... as with all mkarl stories, special care should be
taken by any potential reader who does not wish to risk being offended by my
writing.
As Susan Scott stood in the church and looked into the mirror of her
dressing room, the thirty-six-year-old mother of two couldn't help but be a
mess of emotions. Staring back was the reflection of a woman whose entire
world had been torn asunder, and yet who was now only moments away from
being scheduled to once again pledge her loyalty and commitment to the man
she had been soul-mated to these past twenty years.
A knock at the door broke her thought for but a moment, `are you ready yet
honey?' It was Susan's mom, Karen. "NOT YET MOM."
"You need any help, getting dressed?"
"No, mom... I'm okay."
Susan couldn't bare to face her mom. There had been a `hope'... after all
Susan was already mid-life; and after seventeen years of failing for that
desired third child, a girl could be forgiven for taking `it' for granted.
Michael had done the `job' with both Tommy and Christine so maybe it was
her... Maybe she had gotten too old. She had almost convinced herself that
she could win the gamble; but then the rabbit had died... so to speak.
Susan was going to have her third baby after all.
"Okay, Susan, but if you need any help getting that dress on, you know
Christine and I would love to be with you now. You've waited twenty years
to have this ceremony; so you take your time... but I think Michael is going
to be getting nervous if you don't get this march started pretty quick."
Susan knew her mom was right. It pained her that she couldn't just open
the door and let her mother and daughter share what should have been one of
the greatest days of her life. She felt like crying but the tears wouldn't
come.
The distressed damsel looked at the dress on its hanger; so beautiful, all
white and virginal and pure. Susan had dreamed to wear that dress since she
had been five years old. Susan was certainly no virgin after twenty years of
marriage, but she wanted a white dress anyhow. After all she was still
pure... technically... kind of...
Truth was, Susan wouldn't really have been proper in a white dress for her
first turn at the walk down the aisle either; not that there had been much
of a much of a walk in the office at city hall twenty years back.
Susan had never really thought it was actually her fault. Sixteen year old
girls really weren't quite ready to realize what `that' much drinking and
getting parked in `daddy's' Town Car could lead to. Not that Susan
necessarily blamed Michael either. At the time it kind of annoyed her that
on her first pull of the 'trigger,' the roulette wheel delivered a bullet;
but boys were boys, and Michael had wanted to take 'the gamble.' At least,
he had done the honorable thing and put a ring on her finger..
It really seemed as nothing more than a dream that didn't quite play right
even after all this time.
Susan sighed. She would have to go through with it... with `everything'.
There would be nearly nine more months to try to come to 'terms' with this
new reality, before her little problem 'did.' Maybe it would all work out.
Michael hadn't always been the `husband', and twenty years always brought a
few stresses to any 'foundation;' but one thing that Susan knew was that her
`love' was always the `father'... yeah, Michael wouldn't take the new
addition well but somehow, Susan knew she could still play on all 'that...'
in fact, 'that' was exactly what she was going to have to play on now.
While it might have been wicked to some, Susan was going to be a mother
again and that meant providing `that' care-and-security, to one more child.
Tommy might already be a young man himself, and Christine at seventeen,
might have still been at home but than Susan was already married the first
time around by her daughter's age... no, it was her new seed that had to be
her only concern now, her current children could risk her losing Michael,
but there was no way she could fail her new breed.
It was never suppose to happen; so how did it? How could Susan Scott be
about to exchange wedding vows for the second time in her life with her
belly already beginning the growth of a `bastard?'
Susan reached up to take the dress from it's hanger. "It really is so
beautiful," the jeopardized bride breathed, "and yet, 'this' was what did
`it' to me... wasn't it?"
The church wedding, friends and family, pomp and circumstance... the music,
the romance, and the white dress. Girls plan it from the time they can take
that first step that will eventually carry them down that aisle to their
fairy-tale come true. While a boy probably thought of playing in the sports
league, every girl Susan knew had played at hours to have the perfect
ceremony. Even when a careless testing of the rear shock support in daddy's
sedan suddenly put an urgency to matters; a dream so cherished was never
that easily discarded.
When Michael had first broached the possibility of a second ceremony... a
real ceremony, Susan had been totally speechless to reply.
It was silly, wasn't it? She was thirty-six years old and the mother of
two nearly grown children. Surely it was just nonsense to do something so
frivolous. The cost could be better allotted to the children's education's
or Michael's and hers own approaching golden years. She would just feel so
silly, but Michael had that look in his eyes and Susan heard herself saying
`yes' for 'the second time.'
Even if it was somewhat silly, it had been so wonderfully exciting to make
the arrangements. While mother had not approved of Susan marrying Michael
as a sixteen-year-old, time had long since healed those wounds. Christine
was also helping plan every detail. Susan never enjoyed her daughter's or
mother's company more then when they planned the details.
The picking of a dress was done that fateful Monday afternoon... Valentines
day.
There really was nothing that Susan could have done to suspect the jeopardy
she was about to attract. The bridal shop had nothing in its name or
outward appearance to ever advertise the dark danger that lurked within.
Even if Susan had known of the boy's employment, she never tried to give in
to her own prejudices and would not have made a scene in front of her
impressionable daughter anyhow. It was just being in the wrong place at the
right time for the unlucky beauty.
***
The boy's name was Tyrone. He was sixteen years of age and was part of a
community outreach program. He had began his 'record' back at age eight
with his first collar for shoplifting, and had been busy since. As far as
the 'nigger' was concerned, upon first getting assigned to this lame ass
bridal shop for his community outreach 'work-experience,' it was all just
about the weakest pile of crap he had ever been stuck in. Luckily, Tyrone
was one nigger who was able to see opportunity even in the midst of all of
this mind-numbing benignity.
Watching the cute little white girls come in with their best friends and
family, getting all giggly over the upcoming prenupts may have been enough
to give anyone the idea. For Tyrone it was simply overpowering. The boy
had learned enough romance shit references over the years to imagine that at
least one of these white cunts might still be a virgin 'saving' it for the
wedding night. He had only been in on three rapes before, but the problem
with gang things is that they were just so much about the fucking and never
really allowed the 'artistry' that appealed to a nigger like Tyrone.
The idea of sticking several of these new, 'white brides' with a few of his
own 'black bastards' really began to appeal to the kid. He would have to be
careful though, after all, now that he saw the possibilities in his new
place of employment, he didn't want to be the sloppy hunter getting his
furry black ass kicked out of this little field of white, fluffy lambs until
he had 'wolfed' down his fill.
He had to be careful and make sure that bride number one would be something
special in case he managed to 'screw-up' the 'screw job' and get himself
shuttled off to the 'slam' for 'slamming' the bitch, but as much as he
wanted the first one to be a 'first' herself, this Susan Scott was something
too good for the nigger to pass up.
So what if she wasn't cherry, just listening to the women talk gave Tyrone
all the inspiration that the nigger needed.
***
"Oh my goodness mom, these dresses are so gorgeous. It makes me jealous
that I'm not the one getting married," Christine bubbled to Susan.
"You will be waiting until after college young lady. I waited twenty years
to be in this shop and sweetheart, these dresses are so gorgeous that the
wait was so worth it."
"We have to try on a lot of them honey. I think we should start with that
Princess Diane model over on the window," Karen piped in.
The three woman giggled as they began the afternoon of dress shopping.
Over the next three hours, Susan Scott would slip her hot, sexy,
thirty-six-year-old 36-25-35 body in and out of one stunningly gorgeous
bridal dress after the other. She, her seventeen-year-old daughter and
fifty-seven-year-old mother would slowly sip coolers and get more and more
rambunctious with their playful banter. No one would notice the black youth
making sure to take the opportunity to stay close to the woman as much as
could be possible under the circumstances. Tyrone might not have been
actually able to get away with going into the dressing room with the
beautiful married bride that Valentine's day afternoon, but he had gotten
what he really needed anyhow to make his decision. Susan Scott would be
taking a visit from this nigger. The decision was made official when he
heard the slightly buzzed girl-child ask her mother...
"Did you ever think you might have liked another child, mother? Maybe a
little sister for me?"
"Well, yes, Christine. Both your father and I did want a larger family. I
guess maybe the way that I ended up marrying your father in the first place
wasn't good at all and you really need to be more responsible than I was
cause I just got really lucky that 'it' didn't end up 'ruining' my life, but
I was very happy to have Tommy. When you entered my life, I considered it a
real miracle because we had been trying for three years. The doctors had
told us that with your father, that pregnancy would be difficult. I guess
it wasn't impossible though."
Christine paused to digest her mother's words before continuing, "Do you
guys still try? I mean you are only thirty-seven now mom."
"Christine. That would be scandalous."
"Lots of woman your age have children. I mean I wouldn't be able to really
be best friends with a little sister now, but do you still think you might
have one?"
"Oh my god, I can't believe we are talking about babies. I guess it is
kind of ironic in a way cause the last time I married your daddy I was
pregnant but it just isn't going to happen this time sweetheart. The
wedding is three weeks away and if you must know, I will be fertile this
weekend when your father will be on his trip. Who knows what the future
will bring as I have never used protection, and after seventeen years, we
just take it all for granted, but it would take a miracle for me to get
pregnant before this wedding."
'Shit, it won't take no miracle bitch, it just take a visit from a stud
named Tyrone,' smiled the boy. Lady was going to be receiving her wedding
present from this nigger two weeks early.
***
Tyrone had figured he would just take a peak at the address for the dress
delivery and then make the visit. When he had been able to be at the shop
when Jodi was going to make the delivery, the nigger had asked for a ride.
Jodi was fine enough that using the term 'ride' with her, had sexual
connotations for the boy but than he was a horny enough fucker to get double
meanings out of most words.
The dress had been delivered to 127 Whyte Avenue. Tyrone smiled at the
name. Looked like 'white' neighborhood was about to get a little darker.
He told Jodi that he just remembered he needed to pick something up and
asked to get dropped off at the first market they passed. Then, the nigger
made his way back to 127.
***
Susan Scott had never seen anything so beautiful. The thirty-six-year-old
mother of two stood naked in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom
holding her virginal bridal dress up to admire. It was amazing just how
new, and fresh, and pure this dress made her feel. Even though she had
tried it on back at the shop, she couldn't wait now to try it on in the
privacy of her own home. Christine wouldn't be home from her job for until
late and might just stay over at her friends so Susan was going to be alone
for the night... at least that was what the woman thought as she placed the
dress upon her bed and began to get into her underthings.
Tyrone had the mask over his face as he skillfully opened the back door to
the Scott home. There were no alarms and no dog. That was good. The
nigger had his hand gun out. He had toyed with the idea of getting one of
the boys with him to help things out, but the nigger really wanted the
satisfaction of knowing that it would be his sperm seeding the bitch. With
the gun, he figured there would be a good chance to keep her cooperative
without needing to beat the fuck out of her. Ideally, he wanted to do this
simple so that the cunt never went to the police. As Tyrone moved through
the kitchen in his final 'hunt' he knew that things would just be what they
would be.
Susan Scott had no idea that a nigger was climbing the stairs in her home
as she stood alone in her bedroom in front of her full length mirror. She
had stepped into her panties and thigh high-stockings. A garter held the
sheer satin leggings in place. She had her heels on and had just strapped
her brassier on to push-up her puppies. It was finally time to wear her
dress that she had waited her entire life to wear.
Susan had just picked the dress up when she saw the movement at the
doorway. Before she could even think to scream, the helpless woman was
being sent sprawling onto her own bed. Her attacker was so swift and savage
with the initial attract that Susan was being held by the hair with her face
smothered into her pillows by the time the first screams were uttered.
"SHUT UP. YOU SHUT THAT FUCKING MOUTH, BITCH!"
Whoever this brutal bastard was, he was on top of Susan and had her weighed
down with his body. She tried to squirm loose but it was no use. Susan was
in shock, but she already was beginning to know what this was to be about.
It just was impossible... Susan couldn't be raped.
"I TOLD YOU TO SHUT THAT FUCKING MOUTH, BITCH. DON'T YOU CRY. NO ONE
CARES. NO ONE IS GOING TO SAVE YOU BITCH. YOU WANT ME TO GIVE YOU
SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT?"
Susan felt the smack across the back of her head. It wasn't gentle but it
was only just with his open hand. She felt a second smack and than several
more down across her panty covered ass as this bastard intimidated her. The
helpless woman felt so humiliated. Her face was smothered down into her
pillow so she knew her screams wouldn't get out the open window down to the
neighbors. With the family gone, Susan was all alone and totally vulnerable
against this assault, but the 'good' mom realized this was as much a
blessing as anything else. The thought of poor Christine also being at the
mercy of this animal sickened Susan.
"DON'T YOU SCREAM, BITCH. I'll PUT A BULLET IN YOUR BITCH MOUTH IF YOU
FUCKING SCREAM."
Susan felt the pressure on the back of her head as her attacker started to
force her over. As her face was pulled up from the pillow, she quickly had
the barrel of a small handgun placed between her lips. The bastard was very
forceful with Susan to keep his control over her... and the bastard was
BLACK.
Susan hadn't had a chance to realize the boys skin color when he had jumped
her. There was just no way she was going to let a nigger filthy her.
"YOU STUPID CUNT!" Tyrone had barely managed to get his hand clamped down
over her mouth before the scream had reached its peek. With the bedroom
window wide open, the boy didn't want the risk of any of the neighbors being
alerted to the little party up here in the Scott's bedroom before the fun
was done. Susan needed to be learned when a nigger tells a white bitch to
shut her fucking mouth, than he meant for her to shut-her-fucking-mouth!
Susan tried to recoil from the renewed series of hard forceful slaps but
with the back of her head already on her bed, there was nowhere to turn to.
She felt the sharp sting and knew this bastard had just blackened her eyes.
It just filled her with despair that the slaps that blacked her face were so
obvious in their message that the rest of her body would now be darkened too
and there just wasn't a damn thing the white bride could do about it.
Tyrone had the end of the gun back in Susan's mouth as he explained things
to her a little more civilly.
"I'm going to fuck you bitch. Your husband won't be home this weekend so
if you don't want little Christine getting some of what mommy is getting
too, than you won't try to scream again. We are just going to get you all
dolled up in that dress you were about to try on and than me and you will
see about making that baby you been wanting."
The words... oh god, this nigger was that boy at the bridal shop!!! Susan
couldn't believe the betrayal.
Knowing who the nigger was didn't help the unlucky bitch at all. Just two
weeks removed from her twentieth wedding anniversary and her second wedding
ceremony, Susan Scott was standing in front of a young, black bastard
obeying him as she would her rightful 'master.'
Suddenly putting on the dress was the last thing the distressed white bride
wanted to do...
"You look really nice in that dress bitch," the boy smiled as he just lay
on the bed and slowly squeezed his long, hard black cock while observing as
Susan had no choice but to stand before the nigger and get into her
'innocent' wedding dress. "We are going to leave it on you while I fuck
you. So bitch, do you feel ready. Wonder if you are ovulating. I want you
to tell me that you are."
Susan saw the gun pointing at her. She looked at the open window and
thought about screaming but there was no guarantees that anyone would here
her.
"I'm ovulating for you. I'm ovulating."
The words sounded kind of stupid the way the bitch had said them. She
wasn't crying at the moment, but Tyrone could see that se was on the verge
of tears. The nigger was enjoying himself, but he had been planning this
rape for a week now and he really wanted it to go right. He needed her to
be vocal...
"Say it with meaning, cunt. Tell me you are fertile and you want me to
knock your white ass up with my potent nigger sperm."
Susan was horrified. There was absolutely no doubt that this black animal
intended to breed her. The more horrific thing was that she was at the peak
of her fertility cycle. Even if her own husband Michael had proven limp
enough to only fill her the twice in these past twenty years, somehow, Susan
knew that this nigger was going to do it now on his very first try. She
wanted to scream so much...
"I'm fertile for you nigger. You can breed me with your black bastard in
my white belly."
Tyrone looked over at the open window. "When I stick my foot of prime man
meat in that tight white snatch of yours, you are going to scream in orgasm
bitch... wouldn't want the neighbors hearing until we are done here so why
don't you just walk that fine white ass over to that window and shut it for
me."
Susan obeyed the rapist.
"Now, what we want to do is make sure that you won't be going to the damn
police after this so we are going to get us some pictures of the action.
That way if you get yappy than at least I get the pleasure of making sure
the whole family gets copies of mommy taking her niggering today. Where do
you keep the family video camera?"
Susan was so humiliated. This nigger was just so totally arrogant about
his 'right' to rape her like this was all predetermined. She just felt sick
at how this was all happening so easy.
Susan had to lay on the bed as the boy set the camera up on its mount.
"Okay, hopefully we will get some good shots of your face being easily
identifiable once I am fucking you, but for now I want you to get the fuck
over here to suck my cock."
Susan had no choice.
As Tyrone held the gun in one hand and the camera in the other, he fed her
the lines to utter in-between gulps of the nigger's black dick.
"Yes, I love nigger cock... nigger cock tastes best... I am a white trash,
nigger loving slut."
Tyrone was fully erect and ready to fuck. To her shame, Susan Scott was
wet in her panties and ready to be fucked too...
"Yeah I do you'd like it you white-slut, what would your poor husband think
of his filthy, white-trash slut-wife now if he could see you here with your
new lover, huh you fucking cunt? Tell the camera what a fucking slut you
are for my big delicious chocolate cock. I want this video to fucking prove
that all you white trash whores are fucking horny for superior black dick
and always dream of getting blacked so that you fucking never go back."
As Susan lived the nightmare of having this outrageously foul-mouthed
nigger own her body and soul, she obeyed all of his commands... requests
that were even attempted to have resistance offered were still soon
satisfied with the application of an encouraging slap to the face or a
painful yank to the hair so in front of the witnessing camera, Susan spoke
all the words that the nigger wanted to hear in-between gulps and slurps of
his long, thick black cock slip-fucked between her pretty, red lips and deep
into her wet, willing mouth.
"If Michael was here now he would see how fucking wet I am for your
superior black cock. I always wished I could be a willing white slave to a
sexy, gorgeous black stud god. You are my master. Please, I want you to
fuck me. I want you to fuck my fertile, unprotected, white-trash, whore
cunt and knock me up with your potent superior black seed."
The words may not have actually come out in such coherent smooth-flow, but
the video did prove that Susan Scott uttered each and every syllable all the
while as she continued to orally pleasure her deviant, brutal black rapist.
Finally, the boy had to get to the main event.
"Ready to get your white belly filled with my nigger seed bitch? Guess
your whole fucking life is about to be ruined huh whore? You seem like the
type of bitch that don't believe in getting rid of it."
Susan moaned as the nigger picked her up off her knees with a controlling
hold of her hair. As humiliating as it may have been to have a teenager
leading her around by the hair as if it was some sort of fucking leash for
just a common bitch, the hapless once-faithful wife and dutiful mother of
two would gladly have taken such an affront to her dignity for the rest of
her life if it would have spared her the next fifteen minuets of being laid
on her back in her own marital bed while forced to spread her legs to
accommodate the finishing sexual assault of the young nigger.
All Susan could do as she got herself pound fucked again-and-again
underneath the unrelenting purposeable attack of the evil minded black
bastard, was to just take it, and take it she did. Her tear blurred eyes
sought out some minor form of relief as they fluttered around the room she
had shared with her dear husband all these past years. As disgracefully
humiliating as her own filthying from this nigger would be to herself, she
couldn't help but beg that somehow her family might never need to know just
what a slut she was as her body suddenly started to betray her and she
orgasmed again and again for the nigger. Susan had never cum even once in
all the years with Michael.
"That's it you slut... yeah, cum all over my big, black cock. Go-ahead,
don't try to fight it you whore, let that camera capture how totally
satisfied even the most racist bitch like yourself will be conquered by a
superior black cock. How does it make you feel knowing your family is
getting copies of this video if you ever go to the police and they can all
see that even if you ever try to say it was rape, that you still came your
fucking brains out while you were with this nigger?"
Susan was so fucked... both literally and figuratively. Of course, no wife
or mother would ever be able to risk her family seeing the true effects on
her of taking it nigger style. From cumming all over that nigger's cock
while he finally finished in her to the after-sperming 'celebration' when
the boy forced her to stay in bed with her hips raised, contentedly running
her hands over her now-knocked-up-white-belly, while talking into the camera
of how 'sure' she was that she had conceived a special baby that would now
be her favorite forever; nothing that was captured by that video camera
could ever be risked shown to her family... and that is why Susan Scott had
never turned the young nigger in.
***
It had not been the easiest couple of weeks since Susan Scott had first
gone black. Even having had spent a nightmare of a night having been
repeatedly raped in all three of her tight holes by a brutal, sadistic,
totally, deviant young nigger stud had not altered the fact that the woman
had to get back to the grindstone and organize her own renewed celebration
of her marital relationship with her good husband, Michael. Obviously, much
of the magical enjoyment that should have surrounded such a wondrous renewal
of commitment vows with her soul-mate was now permanently tainted with her
own shaming experience. It was all Susan had been able to do to hold up and
not allow her own dishonoring from being seen by the family.
Somehow though, Susan Scott had not allowed any of her family to know what
had been done to her as she had finally managed to get back to where this
has now all started, in the dressing room at the church where her entire
family waited outside making the final arrangements to give her the special
bridal ceremony that she had always dreamed of. Susan had to wait until now
for her home pregnancy test to have worked anyhow but seeing the pink dot as
she was about to have to go through making a fidelity promise once more to
Michael was simply devastating. If only there was some way to pretend that
none of this had actually happened... some way to make it all different, but
there wasn't. While Susan had taken her home pregnancy test to pray beyond
hope whether she had somehow miraculously escaped ruination from the potent
baby-seed that had been filled into her fertile cunt during that interracial
rape two weeks earlier, she had understandably continued to keep the
dressing room door shut to maintain her privacy from the rest of her family.
Obviously, neither her mother or daughter could have understood what Susan
was doing in that bridal dressing room of that sanctimonious church as she
took her home pregnancy test while in the actual presence of the very nigger
that had been the one to put her to the challenge. When the dot had turned
pink, the boy had just smiled and whispered into his whiteslaves years that
she was a lucky white whore to be able to now walk down the aisle for her
wedding ceremony knowing she had a superior black bastard growing in her
belly. She was going to be extra lucky now cause the boy was going to
finish again in her cunt so she could have fresh nigger sperm running down
her legs as she made the march to that old tune of 'here cums the bride, all
dressed in white.'
How true it would be for Susan Scott... as the Alanis Moroiessette song
exclaimed that it was 'ironic for it to rain on your wedding day,' sometimes
that 'black cloud over the second wedding ceremony' didn't have to be a
'rain-cloud' type in order to bring its own share of irony and fun-filled
double entr e to the festivities.
Anyhow, hopefully this story is okay. It is such a hot fantasy to us both
that being able to write it has taken three months as nothing we were doing
ever seemed good enough. While I would now love to be able to make those
last couple paragraphs a little smoother to dramatize and play up that the
slut-wife is now spending the rest of her life as a sex-slave to the boy, I
am afraid that any attempt to make such alterations would likely have the
effect of preventing the posting of this story for another three months. I
currently have six or seven stories that are only a page or three from
completion so hopefully I will be able to get back to my once a week posting
schedule for everyone who has been wondering what is taking so long between
stories.
As always, mkarl can be written at mkarl2000@hotmail.com and warmly welcomes
all correspondence.
Leta is available to receive whatever comments you might want to share with
her at willingwhiteslave@hotmail.com
May 29/2000
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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