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Subject: {ASSM} Black Cloud over the Second Wedding Ceremony By Leta with Mkarl
Date: Sun, 9 Jul 2000 19:10:10 -0400
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[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.
Black Cloud over the Second Wedding Ceremony
By Leta with mkarl
Mkarl2000@hotmail.com
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... Valentine's
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 boy's 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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