The Reluctant Bride

This brief story contains mild bondage and humiliation. Reader discretion is advised.

"Mmmmpphhh!"

Amelia was not happy. Which was odd, given that the sign above the door specifically promised that customers would enjoy "The Happiest Day Of Your Life! (Or 10% Of Your Money Back!)" She would ask to speak to the manager, if only she could get the huge white ballgag out of her mouth. Aside from keeping her quiet, it was causing a humiliating quantity of drool to spill from her lips and down on to her chest and the white dress doing so little to cover it up.

"Is the bride misbehaving?" asked the priest. "We have a variety of canes, whips and paddles available for these sorts of situation."

Amelia squeaked with alarm upon hearing this, and fell silent. The large crowd of well-wishers laughed loudly, while the tall grey-haired man standing next to her smiled, and reassured the priest that there wouldn't be a problem.

"She'll be obedient and submissive. Won't you, wifey?"

"Hmmmpph."

Amelia was in no position to point this out, but the man - whose name was Doug, or "Doug the sleazy coworker who wouldn't take no for an answer", to give him his full title - was getting rather ahead of himself. They were not married yet, and wouldn't get married at all if she had anything to do with it. She was convinced that this whole thing was thoroughly illegal. I mean, it must be, right?

"Dearly beloved," said the priest, "we are gathered here today, on this small island which due to a territorial dispute is not currently subject to any laws other than those ordained by its owner, which for the next 45 minutes would be..." He looked down at his notes. "...the one known as 'Doug'."

He smiled, and winked at Amelia.

"We are gathered, I say, to celebrate the love between this man, 'Doug', and this innocent virginal wench, Amelia Chastity Trueheart, and witness their union in the bonds of holy matrimony; bonds which are tight and inescapable, until and unless the man should become tired of her. Has the wench been suitably prepared?"

"She has been bound hand and foot in accordance with the laws," replied Doug. This was true; her wrists, elbows, chest and legs had been carefully and very securely trussed with red rope and despite vigorous straining and wriggling she had failed to find any slack whatsoever. Only her ankles had been left untied in order to allow her to hobble up the aisle. "And tightly gagged, of course, to ensure her compliant silence while men are speaking."

"Mmmmpphh!"

"Hush now, dear. Doug: do you vow to keep this pretty maiden as your bound and helpless captive, ravish her regularly, punish any disobedience severely, and forsake all others for at least the next couple of weeks, or maybe a bit less if you meet someone else who's hot?"

"I do."

"And Amelia: do you vow to submit utterly to a lifetime of ownership, obedience and humiliation, acknowledging the total and irrefutable authority - legal, financial and intellectual - of your lord and master, Mr... Doug?"

"Mmmphhh!!"

"I'll take that as a yes. Doug, you may kiss the bride."

He grabbed Amelia firmly, unbuckled the strap of the ballgag, causing her luscious dark hair to cascade down around her face, and kissed her passionately while the crowd whooped their support. The kiss ended suddenly, and before she could complain, the gag was back in and her voice stolen once again.

"Now please complete the maiden's bindings, and let the hopping proceed."

Doug knelt down like a proposing bridegroom, produced another bundle of red rope, and knotted it tightly around Amelia's shapely ankles. She wobbled, almost losing her balance, but he grabbed her bare thighs and kept her steady. (The crown gave a loud "Awww!" as if this was some grand romantic gesture.) He stood up, and gave her pert bum a firm and painful spank. His steely expression made it clear there was more where that came from, and Amelia realised she wasn't going to win this round.

And so, as the cheap music system struck up Mendelssohn's Wedding March, Amelia swallowed her pride and, blushing furiously and desperately hoping she wouldn't fall on her ass, hopped down the aisle in front of everyone. It was a nightmare. Her absurdly high heels made it almost impossible to keep her balance, the tiny skirt of her dress kept flicking up and exposing the white thong beneath, her perky breasts were bouncing all over the place, and she could feel the drool running down her chin and flicking up on to her face. She had never felt so humiliated in all her life.

But on the other hand, married at 22? This would make for a great post on Facebook.

FIN