Jennifer's wedding night doesn't go as planned. But with her future, and her family's future, at stake, she's forced to adapt or fail.
On their ride back home, Jennifer was all but straddling Marcus in the car. The entire ride consisted of a heavy make out session and her hands were all over him, as his were on her. Sure, she barely knew him, but this was how arranged marriages worked. You had to base your connection on surface level looks in the beginning, and Marcus wasn't lacking in that department. It had to be like this at least until they got to know one another well. So kissing and groping it was. And Jennifer kissed and groped with a purpose. She had a mission, beyond her want to have a loving marriage. She needed him to want her. She needed him to love her. Jennifer was glad and thankful her husband was young and attractive, and not someone twice her age or older. She sank her tongue deeper into her husband’s mouth, wrestling against his, sucking in his lip, biting it, licking his face.
When they got home, she got out. She tried to see the impressive manor but it was difficult with the darkness. The whole building was shrouded in shadows, the only illumination a road marked by candles in the floor. No doubt designed like this for romantic effect. It worked marvels in Jennifer, who smiled and, reminded of her previous failure, decided to show some more aggressive initiative. This was her home now, after all, right? She took Marcus’ hand and led the way up the steps towards the main door, as if she owned or knew the place. “I can’t wait to see our house in daylight, it looks impressive,” she said with a genuine smile, careful not to put too much emphasis in the ‘our’, so that it would sound natural. The door led to a huge main hall, with doors to either side and in front of her, as well as a big, winding staircase. Jennifer noticed indentations in the center of the carpet, indicating something round and heavy was moved out of there recently. She found that curious, but made no comment about it. Now was not the time. The candlelit trail led up the stairs, winding some corridors and leading towards the master’s bedroom. She felt nervous, moving about in a house she had never been in, draped in shadows, leading the way with playful and pretend confidence, but at least the candles gave no room to get lost. The master bedroom was huge, bigger even than her daddy’s back home. It was dimly lit, to enhance the atmosphere, and ready to receive the newlywed couple. A cart with some champagne and a pair of glasses was waiting for them.
Jennifer was thankful for that. She was getting nervous now. Or rather, the break between the making out session while walking here had made her be aware, once again, of how nervous she was. The alcohol would help with that. She didn’t know what Marcus liked or didn’t like, and that made her feel unease. She walked over to the champagne and opened it.
“A drink?” she asked, and poured two glasses without waiting for a reply. She was grateful she had her back on her husband, so that the trembling on her hands was hidden. That was a big tell on her, one she had never managed to contain.
”Pull yourself together,” she scolded herself. ”Molly wouldn’t be shaking,” she thought angrily, frowning as she finished pouring the drinks. ”None of his whores would.”
“I’m excited to be visiting Bali for our honeymoon, I haven’t been there before,” she said with a perfect, confident smile as she turned around and handed Marcus his glass, her entire will focused on keeping her damn hand steady. She was trying to make a little conversation, but she feared that might give away her nervousness.
Marcus took the glass she offered and took a sip, admiring her beauty, wanting to ravage her body, watch it bruised and bleeding. Once more, perhaps for the millionth time, he wondered how perverted she was. Would she be like him, or would she be another boring woman? He knew her father was mean, they had used girls together in group fucks before, but he wasn’t as mean as Marcus was. And Marcus wasn’t sure how much Jennifer’s dad had exposed her to that. He figured she had sexual experience, coming from a wealthy family. Sex and politics were tied together. She must have been raised and taught into it, and must have some experience but… how much?
Then she mentioned Bali. Ah yes, the honeymoon. That was something Marcus was not looking forward to. There were many important deals to be closed. And there was the matter of the serum. Marcus didn’t want to be away from the labs, or away from monitoring the operations. The NX project was too important. One week away… a lot could happen in that time. But cancelling their honeymoon wouldn’t look good, and he needed Jennifer’s father’s investment and support. He needed their wealth. He couldn’t cancel it. Not without a good reason.
“I’m looking forward to it too,” he said with a perfect fake smile and took another sip. And Bali of all places… He wouldn’t be able to bruise or cut her there… although on the other hand, she would look stunning in a bikini. As much as Molly used to do. She was still hot, but her age was beginning to show… Thinking about Jennifer in a bikini turned him on. She looked amazing in that dress, it made him want to rip it out.
“That dress looks a bit uncomfortable,” he said in a suggestive tone.
While Marcus had been looking at her, Jennifer was having the same thoughts as her husband. As she took her own sip of champagne, she wondered what would he be like in bed. Would he be boring, and just lay there, making her do all the work? Would he be rough, like her first time? Would he pin her wrists above her head and warp his hand around her neck, or fuck her from behind and spank her ass bright red. Or would he be the perfect mix of passion and rough? She had to please him. But how could she please him if she didn’t know what he liked? Jennifer was used to studying her partners. Digging and learning about them before engaging. But she hadn’t had time to do that with him, and she hated not having that control. She took a large gulp of champagne, emptying the glass, and let out a small giggle when he mentioned her dress and her cheeks flushed.
“Yes… it is quite uncomfortable…” she said. Jennifer turned around and moved her hair out of the way. “Would you be kind and help me out of it?”
Marcus ran his finger by his wife’s shoulder, then up the back of her neck while his other hand grabbed her waist and climbed up her back. He grabbed the laces and unmade the dress, smelling her perfume all the while as she stood there, holding her hair out of the way for him. He could feel his dick getting harder inside his pants. Jennifer reminded him of how Molly was when she was young. Finally the back of the dress was fully undone, ready to be slipped out of.
Jennifer could feel his breath on the back of her neck as he unlaced the dress. Each section becoming loose progressively. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She had seduced before, had fucked before. But never like this. Never been married. And never with the stakes so high, with her family’s survival on the line.
”Breathe, you will be fine,” she told herself as she felt him unlace the last piece. She smiled as she turned around, staying close to him. A smile full of the confidence she didn’t feel. She didn’t know much about him, but could tell he wouldn’t like the innocent, naive play. Marcus seemed to like his women driven and assertive. She shifted her arms, letting the dress slowly slide down her body and pool on the floor around her heels, her gaze fixed on him.
She stood now in a white lace bra, lace garter and thigh highs. No thong. She had learned that most men were driven crazy by discovering the woman wore nothing underneath the skirt. Men were basic and easy like that. It was a cheap and quick way to earn points in their favor. Her pussy was a delicate, thin strip, freshly shaved, slightly glistening from her wetness at the making out during the car ride. Her hands moved to her back and a moment later her bra came loose, falling to the floor. Jennifer was beautiful. She had almost the same built as her cousin: thin and slender, although with a bit more meat to her than Ivy did. Her tits were small, B sized. Perky and with bright pink nipples. Her legs stretched seemingly forever, shaped even more by the white heels she was wearing, and culminated in a perky, round ass that gave way to thin hips and waist. Her charming smile transformed subtly into a more sexual one, and half crooked as she stepped out of her dress and forward, until her body was almost flush against Marcus’. She looked up at him, her cheeks blushed from the alcohol and nerves, giving away her excitement. She brought her hands up and slowly began to remove his tie and unbutton his shirt. She could feel his hands on her hips, feeling her smooth and warm skin. Marcus fingers felt cold in comparison. He explored her flesh, her curves, as she undressed her husband, holding his gaze by moments, then deviating her eyes. Both because her nerves couldn’t let her hold his deep gaze, as well as to allow him to look at her body.
Marcus worked out. He was no bodybuilder, but his chest and arms were more toned than average. She could feel the hard muscles as her fingers ran over his chest. He had some chest hair on him. She liked that. It wasn’t so much it felt gross, but the perfect amount to be manly. She leaned in and licked and kissed his chest as she began undoing his pants. His dick throbbed as she pushed them down.
“Someone’s really happy to get married…” she whispered as her fingers wrapped around his shaft and played with it, smearing themselves and the dick with precum. Marcus let out a low growl of pleasure at the woman’s touch and his hands gripped tighter around her waist. Jennifer smiled openly, she enjoyed having this effect on him. To Marcus, Jennifer had an almost perfect body. He wanted to beat her up and fuck her until she cried, but he knew he had to test the waters and take it easy for the sake of his business relationship with William.
He let her push him to the bed, before falling, he stopped and and placed one hand on her shoulder and the other on top of her head, then pressed down gently but firmly. Jennifer caught the meaning and her smile widened as she obediently came down to her knees. Marcus sat on the edge of the bed and placed his fully erect dick right in front of her face, hoping she wouldn’t disappoint him by being prude or some shit like that. Jennifer knew how to please men. At least, normal men. Not men like him. Men who enjoyed hurting women. Her experience was limited, and mostly with politician’s sons who hadn’t yet built the confidence or experience to be up to those things. But she liked a good cock in her mouth. This was something she actually enjoyed and was good at.. as long as it wasn’t deepthroating. She liked that, but gagged too much, and was always afraid of puking and ruining the moment. Without skipping a beat she got to work.
She allowed her defenses to slip a little, to get more in the moment. She eyed Marcus’ dick hungrily, figuring he would enjoy that sight. She reached with one hand and wrapped it around his shaft, while with the other she delicately raked at his thigh with her sharp nails. Her lips opened up and wrapped around the tip of his dick. She sucked as her tongue flicked along its curve and then she pushed down her throat. Marcus’ cock wasn’t a monster of a penis. It was about average in length. But what it was was wide. His girth was certainly wider than most men’s. Jennifer felt with delight how her mouth was filled up by her husband’s meat, stretched to its limit. She tried to relax and take him in, wanting to take him all in, all the way down to the base. Both her hands were on his thighs now, touching him, stroking him. Her eyes stayed locked on his as they began to get glassy while she struggled not to gag. He was thicker than anything she’d had before, and it was a bit painful to take him, but she didn’t want to disappoint, so she held herself down as best she could. Then she retched, heaving a bit hard so she pulled back. A string of saliva dripped down her chin as she slurped and moved to stroke his cock, licking around the tip as she caught her breath. She never got to bring her hand in. As soon as she pulled away, Marcus grabbed her head and pushed her back in, catching her in the middle of breathing in some air. He wasn’t as sudden nor as violent as he normally would, he still needed to keep up appearances with her for the sake of business, but firmly enough so that his dick pushed itself inside her mouth again. Then he pulled her away, just a bit, before pushing her back in, seeking to make his cock go as deep as possible. He could feel the back of her throat, tight and unused to being fucked, and that only made him push depper, until the tip of her nose touched his crotch. Gagging sounds came as he moved her head back and forth, facefucking his delicate bride forcefully. Spit squeezed out of Jennifer’s mouth, bubbling from the sides, smearing her lips, nose, and chin. Her face turned red, as did her eyes, and tears began running down her face, bringing along her makeup. Her hands, at first, tensed up. Her nails sunk in Marcus’ thighs, then she raked a bit. But then, as the pain, the desperation for air, and the need to pull away increased, they shifted. One hand came down to he pussy, and she began playing with herself as her face was fucked. The other caressed Marcus’ leg desperately. It was the only thing she could make it do so as not to use it to push herself away. Her whole body begged for air, she felt the need for it, the compulsion to fight back and push away pressing against her skull, the imperative to survive threatening to overwhelm it all. Her hips spasmed as she came, her body trembling following it. Not so strong as to squirt, but she could feel the juices running down her thighs now.
The gagging sounds intensified as the facefucking became more aggresive. Her head pushed back and forth, at the mercy of the vastly stronger man who was using her. She tried to resist. Every time he pushed her face slightly away, he had to fight against her impulse to go all the way out. Every time he pushed her head in, he had to be more forceful as she involuntarily resisted. She had been tapping on his thigh for a while now, but he didn’t stop. Her face was beginning to shift from red to purple. Her vision had gone from the blur of tears to the blur of lack of air, and now she could see the edges of her vision begin to turn black. Then, just as she began to lose track of her thoughts, blessed air. Her face was pushed away, leaving several strands of spit connecting her to the cock in front of her. Thick, white drool clung to the penis, to her chin, and to her face, which was a mess of spit, tears, and makeup. She inhaled deeply and loudly, all semblance of dignity gone. There was only the primal need to survive, to take in as much air as possible. Slowly, her consciousness returned to her as she coughed and gagged, throwing out even more spit. She hadn’t expected him to take control as he did. Feeling his hand pushing her back down. The freedom of air, the privilege of breathing he allowed her, had been enough for her to recover, but just barely, and it felt too short, too quick. She opened wide once more and took the dick in. She did her best, but still struggled against his hand as she took breaths whenever the tip of his cock pulled out of her throat. Her hand, wet from her own masturbation, went up to feel her neck. She could feel the bulge on it as Marcus dick filled her mouth and throat. Trying to breathe so much didn’t help, and she soon found herself coughing and gaggin, throwing out even more spit. She could feel her throat raw, and was fearing she was losing control. Not only of her arousal -she hadn’t noticed she was touching herself again- but also of her body. She felt the pressure build just above her stomach and began to panic. But she couldn’t stop now. She couldn’t ruin this.
Tears were running down her eyes freely. There was so much spit they hung like little tendrils from her chin, swaying thickly as her head was shoved around. Her tits, and her thighs down on the floor, were smeared with it as well. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. She focused all her thoughts on them, hoping her eyes would convey the message her irritated throat could not speak. She was pleading out of panic. Pleading for him to cum, pleading for him to let her breathe. But most of all, pleading for him to finish quickly, before she couldn’t take it anymore. Before she puked. That would be the worst, puking over his cock on her wedding night. When he finally released her she pushed back all the way, coughing and gasping. She brought her hand up to her face to clean herself out of instinct, but stopped midway, controlling the impulse. She would remain filthy, he would like that. A loud burp came out of her, uncontrolled and resounding around the room. And if her face had been red before, it was nothing next to how it turned then. New tears formed up in her eyes, out of humiliation this time.
“Sorry..:” she gasped, her throat raw. Bad idea to talk, another burp came out. This new one made her feel the taste of acidic champagne, and a burning tinge that only made the pain in her throat hurt even more. Her hand came up, stroking her husband’s dick, not wanting to end his pleasure until he came, despite her need to recover. She felt the pressure building up. She breathed in, hard and slow, trying to control her body. It was a battle now, between her stomach and her will. Her eyes widened when she realized her will would lose. She did her best to prevent it, but she leaned forward and retched. She had enough presence of mind only to look down, so as not to puke on her husband, and to keep a tight grip on the man’s cock. The puke ran up her throat and flowed out of her mouth. It was liquid, almost like water in consistency. She hadn’t eaten that much, thankfully. It poured out uncontrolled. Some, most, came out of her mouth, but vomit poured out of her nostrils as well, some mixing with the snot the facefucking had made, and dangling obscenely from her delicate nose. It bathed her tits and belly, and splashed down against her kneeling thighs, forming a linear pool between them before seeping down to the carpet floor.
“Oh god…” she blurted, and a bit more puke came out. An aftershock, pouring out lazily out of her lips. “Oh god, I’m sorry…” she said with a raspy voice, her hand stroking his penis delicately.
“It’s ok,” replied Marcus, hiding his disappointment. He had completely misunderstood her. Marcus thought she was apologizing for puking so little, or not with enough chunks of solid, and for not making him cum before she puked. Basically, for not giving a proper humiliation show. He stroked her messed up hair. She would learn quickly, he hoped. She, kneeling down there naked, some of the diamonds that adorned her hair from the wedding still there, on her messed up hair. Some of her hairtips were wet with spit and puke, but he touched only the top, where it was clean. Jennifer was still breathing hard, recovering from the lack of air both from the deepthroat and the vomiting.She was a stunning woman, and looked even hotter now. She kept her eyes down, defeated, but soon realized the cock she kept stroking wasn’t going limp. Could it be he was into this? Still, that did little to make her feel happy or successful… or not ashamed.
Marcus couldn’t hold back anymore. The sight of her, kneeling like that, drove him crazy. He stood up, bringing her up along with him, turned her around, and pressed himself against her back. He guided his dick to her asshole from behind. Jennifer did nothing, allowing him to move her around and position her as he willed. Partly because she felt defeated, but partly, because she liked it. Few men were as rough as he was being. Many treated her too much like a princess, or failed to see her at all. She silently thanked the gods that he pressed his dick against her ass rather than pussy. She felt her pussy tingle again. The embarrassment was too high, overwhelming her. And mixing with the notion she was still going to get fucked was too much. A smile formed on her ruined face, her eyes still glazed over, as she felt her husband move her about like a doll and push himself inside her. The thick spit that glazed it served somewhat as lubricant, but Jennifer still grunted a cry of pain as the massive girth was shoved agonizingly slow inside her unprepared ass. She should have anticipated this. Worn an assplug to be prepared. She arched her back in pain, grunting loudly as the dick carved its way inside her. To Marcus, the grunts almost sounded like a ‘yes’.
—-----
Molly had rushed out of the wedding and gone straight for her car. One of the lesser whores of Marcus had been assigned as her driver, since she wasn’t expected to go back home with him tonight.
The girl knew better than to speak when her Domina was angry or in a rush. She didn’t even bother to come out and open the car door for her. The woman was coming down clearly in a rush. The girl hurriedly unlocked the doors and started the engine.
“To the manor, fast!” she ordered, then leaned back, biting at her nail as she thought. Ivy’s offer was the key. She would frame it as an urgency, an emergency meeting to take place on Monday. The flight would have to be cancelled, of course. The honeymoon postponed to some other date, to be decided. A problem for the future, for sure, but right now this was the best she could do. Yes. This was a good move. Marcus might even prefer it this way, knowing him. It had been some minutes since the couple had left, but not too much. She would prove herself useful, she would prevent them from going to their honeymoon, and, to top it all, she would interrupt his night with the usurper.
Molly sat crossed legged in the car as it sped through the city. She bit her nails and kicked about with her foot. It wasn’t often that she found herself in these dangerous situations, and she hated it. She hated not having full control, not having free and full access to her master as before. She had already had a verbal spar with Jennifer, and the bitch had come out the winner somehow, even when Marcus had defended her preparations for the wedding. Molly was sure Jennifer had barely scrapped a victory… but she couldn’t be sure. Was the bitch’s confidence true or just a front? Her guts told her she wasn’t as strong as she seemed, that she was fake. That Jennifer felt as unsteady about her position as Molly herself did about hers. But Jennifer was so young, and so pretty… Molly frowned as she admitted to herself Jennifer was even prettier than she herself had been at her age.
“The fucking bitch…” she muttered as she bit at her nails once more. She needed a drink. This fucking car didn’t even have a bar… She watched with growing frustration as the city zoomed by, the car speeding along the highway. It couldn’t go fast enough.
A few minutes later, she was interrupted by the communicator, the voice of her driver came through.
“We’ll be there in five minutes, Domina.”
Molly nodded and relaxed a bit now that she knew they were close and had worked out a plan. She fixed her hair and dress, and reapplied some makeup quickly. More so she had something to do and keep herself busy than because it was needed.
—-----
Marcus had a good hold of Jennifer from behind. His arms held hers locked behind her back, making her arch her back and bring her ass out even more, and keeping her immobile. The initial thrusts had been painful, like being stabbed. Her asshole had stretched to its limits and torn. Blood squeezed out, lubricating the dick as he fucked her. Some ran down her thighs, mixing with the pussy juiced that run down from her vagina. Jennifer stood immobile as she was pounded relentlessly. Her eyes rolled up, showing white, as another orgasm wracked through her. She loved this. She wasn’t a lover of pain, except the one that came from deepthroating and, specially, ass fucking. And few had caused as much pain as her dear husband was right now. She had no idea he was actually holding back, and could be much more savage. She wouldn’t be enjoying this with so little worry otherwise. As the orgasm ravaged her, Marcus partially released her, his arm coming forward and wrapping around her waist, holding her in place as her shaking legs gave in. Without her heeled shoes to hold her, Jennifer’s weight came down to rest partially against Marcus’ arm, but also against his dick. She impaled herself even deeper against him.
“Oh…god…” she barely muttered without breath as drool ran down the side of her mouth. It felt good, but the pain was too much. She planted her feet on the ground, her white heels dirty with blood, pussy juices, spit, and vomit. Marcus was relentless. Her insides were on fire. She was sure the blood oozing out was not just from a torn asshole, but from internal bleeding as well. Marcus released his hold of her arms letting them slide out and her bend over forwards. He grabbed her at the last minute by the wrists, gripping her arms like if they were reigns as he kept fucking her. In this position he had a perfect view of Jennifer’s pristine back, a delicate depression running up along her spine like if chiseled out or marble. The boneplates pressed out against her skin as he pulled at her arms, and her messed up hair crowned the view, emphasizing the used state of his wife. Jennfier hang limp form the waist up, not falling over purely because he was holding her. Her face hung down, moans and grunts, sometimes of pleasure, sometimes of pain, coming out occasionally, drool hanging from her lips and chin, dripping on the carpet floor.
“Someone’s a masochistic bitch..:” he muttered, his tone equally aroused and mocking. Jennifer smiled, despite her face was unseen by him, and grunted a moan of acknowledgment. Jennifer was glad that, for once, she didn’t have to put on a show.
—-----
Finally, the car entered the mansion complex and parked in front of the main door. Molly threw the car door open even before the car was fully stopped, and burst out of it, her skirt and golden hair swaying in the night breeze as she all but ran up the stairs, her heels clacking loudly with each step. There were no servants, of course. She had dismissed them all to their beds in the kennels. Supposedly to give the couple some privacy in their first night. But in reality to ensure no one would be there to attend them, forcing Jennifer to do it if anything was needed and, hopefully, giving her a bad time. She reached the door and opened it. Or at least tried to. It was locked. Of fucking course. Marcus’ driver must have locked it before taking the car to the garage. Grunting and cursing in frustration she was surprised when she saw her own driver rushing up, key in hand. She snatched the key from the bitch’s hand and opened the door, rushing in. The romantic candles were still burning inside. She paid them no heed as she rushed up the stairs, her steps muffled by the carpets. She could hear them fucking behind Marcus’ bedroom door. She stopped, fixed her hair and tits, breathed in hard, and stepped inside. As if interrupting newlyweds fucking was the most normal thing in the world…
—-----
Jennifer’s ass had finally given in. It was still painful, and it burned, but it felt now more like the violation of a hole, than an actual hole being carved inside her. Her asshole was throbbing, feeling so raw as her husband pounded into her. Marcus’s hands where on her shoulders, pressing her down against his dick as he fucked her. Her legs were partially bent over, and it had made her thighs begin to burn at holding the weight and thrust, so her hands were there to better hold herself steady, her nails sinking into her flesh. She yelped in surprise as the bedroom door burst open and Molly stepped in. To her benefit, Jennifer had enough presence of mind not to cover herself, or push away from Marcus. She was not some prude teen. But her face did color itself in shock.
Molly came in to a wonderful spectacle. Jennifer looked so used and pathetic. Her once magnificent hair was a mess. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was ruined. Covered in makeup, dried and fresh tears, spit and vomit. Her body was covered in puke, and her legs were painted with a myriad streaks of blood and fluids. She had the look of someone who had been used to her limits, she thought. She liked that idea. Knowing Marcus, he had held back, probably by a lot. If that brought Jennifer to her limits, then the cunt had no chance once his full nature was revealed. She could also see the signs of an exhausted woman. A woman who had been used too much, had cum too much. She smiled openly at Jennifer’s undignified appearance. Jennifer scowled at Molly, and her scowled deepened as she saw the smile grow on her face. She knew perfectly well how she looked.
“Mo…lly…” she blurted between grunts of pain-joy, “Wha..what… areyou….doinghere’” she asked as she incorporated herself, not stopping herself from getting used, but rising to meet her eye to eye.
“I’m so terribly sorry for interrupting you, Marcus,” she said. In any other situation, her tone would have been fully believable. Jennifer imagined that’s why she made it sound so real, because all would know it was fake. She also noticed Molly spoke only to Marcus, and didn’t address her at all. Defiantly, Jennifer sought Molly’s gaze, staring at the woman intently as her ass was fucked. Jennifer’s arm came up and behind, and began stroking her husband’s hair. “Her husband’s,” she seemed to yell with her eyes. She raised her chin, proudly displaying her filthy body, moving rhythmically to the pouncing she was receiving. She remained silent, knowing she had nothing to do in the conversation that was about to happen, but her presence seemed to fill the room, to press down against Molly. The blonde seemed to ignore her, but it was clear she felt the pressure. Finally, spurred by the interruption and the hatred between the two women, Marcus came. He held Jennifer firmly by the hips as the woman used her fingers to play with his hair. He pressed in deep and unloaded himself. The burst was massive, and hot. Jennifer could feel it inside her, and she figured her husband must take something to increase his ejaculation volume. Not surprising, given that he owned a pharmaceutical. She moaned in delight and smiled, more for Molly’s irritation than Marcus’ pleasure.
“Thank you, baby,” she muttered as she took a step away from Marcus and out of his dick. She turned around, a happy and pleased smile on her face, and stood there, arms slightly aside, presenting her body to her husband, so he could see the full extent of the ravaging he had caused. She looked relaxed, but she was clenching her ass tight, holding in the cum and a bunch of liquid -which she was sure was blood- from bursting out. She would not give Molly the satisfaction of seeing that indignity. She couldn’t kiss her husband, her mouth was covered in spit, dried puke, and snot. But she wish she could. Instead, she gave him a playful bow.
“Could we have a moment to talk, alone?” she asked Marcus, doing her best to ignore Jennifer, and clearly trying too hard. “It’s important.”
Marcus stood there, glaring at Molly. How dare she interrupt him? Not only was he having fun but, even more important, this marriage was important if he was to secure the Hart’s fortune in investment. Molly knew that. He made no show to hide his irritation, and Jennifer smiled at that.
“I’ll go get us a couple drinks…” she said, with a tone as if she didn’t care about being dismissed. She offered it herself, partly to prevent the discomfort to her husband of having to do it. She didn’t need to be a genius to know that, despite his anger, he would hear Molly out. But also because she desperately needed to find a bathroom where to push out all the blood. She didn’t know how long she’d be able to fight the pressure. She touched Marcus lightly in the arm and with a smile and a spring turned to leave. As soon as she was out of sight, all dignity was lost. She clenched her ass, pressed it with her hand, and rushed to find a bathroom. She’d need to be quick, she still needed to find where the hell the kitchen was, and prepare the promised drinks.
Molly smiled triumphantly at Jennifer’s retreat. “Ivy Hart, your dearest wife’s cousin. She is requesting a meeting with you. She has a large investment opportunity to discuss with you…” All Jennifer could hear was the first sentence before she exited the bedroom. So it was about Ivy, but she couldn’t know what was it about. She cursed at herself, but keeping her dignity and pride in front of Molly, and not spraying blood all over her husband’s carpet, seemed more pressing. Molly approached one of the drawers and took out a towel. “But unfortunately, she needs to meet within 48 hours. I know you have your honeymoon… but come on, we both know you’d be bored going away for ten days.” She smiled at her master encouragingly.
Marcus took Molly’s offered rag and threw it aside after watching Jennifer leave. Then, he grabbed Molly’s hair and brought it down to his crotch, forcing the woman to quickly and unceremoniously drop to her knees. He took the golden curls and used them to clean his dick of the blood and cum. Molly was vain, and her hair was one of her prides, he knew that. He unceremoniously released the locks -and the woman- once clean.
“You know I won’t be using you tonight, Molly. So no need to try and remain clean or ready,” he said, trying to pull her down a peg or two. He had no idea of the effect he had, the woman was brought down several more pegs. Of course she had known he wouldn’t be fucking her tonight. But she had still held hope. Having it be so plainly told to her was a smack in the face. The rejection a reminder of how old she was getting.
“Of course, my love,” she said as she meekly rose to her feet, letting the messed up part of her hair hang there, not fixing it. Marcus wouldn’t want her to fix her hair right now. She was aware of how much she felt that he didn’t use her as often as the other whores. That he didn’t use her as much as before.
Marcus stared at Molly, considering. The honeymoon had been undesirable, true. But mostly because it would keep him away from business, and this was a crucial moment. That it was boring or not was… irrelevant. But it was important. When her father asked, it was important that Jennifer say she was happy and pleased. Jennifer’s cousin being an investor would be good. It would lower the dependency he had on his marriage working in case things went wrong. But, it would also strengthen the families bonds if things went well. It would tie the Harts more to him. He just needed to make sure this was not his idea, and needed Jennifer to back it up. He figured he could make it so Molly spread the word she had arranged the deal as a surprise. She would get to brag as she liked, and he would be blameless. And all Jennifer would have to do was smile and say she was ok postponing the honeymoon. She seemed the romantic type, but some encouragement could help.
“Very convenient that you found out just now, Molly,” said Marcus in a teasingly suspicious tone. He had no doubts Molly had gone through the same train of thought he just had. The woman was adept at placing herself to come out winning always.
“I did, just find out. It wasn’t something I forgot or held onto on purpose… though… I can’t say it wasn’t welcome,” she replied, her relaxed smile returning to her face. She had mastered keeping it at will, no matter how she felt. “This little bitch-wife that you’ve taken… I need to make sure she has a backbone to her. And to prepare an alternate plan in case your plan with her fails.”
“How disinterested of you…” replied Marcus, clearly not convinced. Molly’s smile widened.
“I don’t know if the little Hart dove has a backbone or not. We don’t know. You need a strong woman by your side,” It wasn’t clear if the last sentence implied she did this to test Jennifer, or if she implied that she herself was the strong woman. Marcus figured the ambiguity was on purpose. Molly felt uneased at Marcus silence.
Just then, Jennifer came into the room. Walking casually, her appearance still ruined, with two glasses on her hands and a big smile on her face, her attitude completely at odds with her looks. There was nothing to be done about that, she figured. Cleaning herself up would take too long, and she dared not leave Molly alone with him right now. Plus, it would signal to the other woman that she felt uncomfortable with her appearance. She could not allow that. So better to own it. Jennifer looked like that because she liked looking like that. Fake it till you make it. So, she came in proud and happy, drinks in hand.
“I made yours with a twist,” she said as she handed her husband his drink. The twist was just an orange slice ran along the rim of the glass. There was little else she could do. She didn’t know the kitchen, and she didn’t have time. She clinked glasses with Marcus and both men took a sip, she holding his gaze with her own, so that Molly could notice she was the stranger here.
“So, what did I miss?” asked Jennifer happily, as if there was no tension between the two women.
“There’s a very important business investment deal that is quite urgent… So urgent it has a 48 hour expiration,” said Molly holding back her scowl. She wanted to reprimand Jennifer for entering without knocking. She had to remind herself that Jennifer had every right to do so. This was her house now, and this was her room. Molly just didn’t like it.
Jennifer caught on to what was happening immediately. She refrained from asking with whom. She knew it was with Ivy. Her husband was dead, and her name had been mentioned as she left. There was no one else it could be. And Ivy had inherited her husband’s money. She knew that. She also knew her own father had tried to make her cousin give it, but she had refused. Why the hurry now? Was this another attack vector from the Harts? Was Ivy an ally or competition? She would have to solve that quickly. Presently, she smiled. She knew what was needed of her.
“And that 48 hours start now?” she asked innocently. Molly nodded. Jennifer could tell she was annoyed. Maybe just by her presence, or the fact she hadn’t made her a drink.
“I see..:” continued Jennifer, playing at being innocent, prolonging the resolution Molly so desperately wanted to hear. Jennifer glanced playfully at Marcus, offering him a half smile. She placed her hand on Marcus’ arm.
“Business is important. Bali will be there for another time,” she said, dutifully and relaxed. She hid her disappointment that they wouldn’t be going to Bali. That the honeymoon would probably be perpetually postponed. “I’m thinking I should arrange for dinner or coffee with my friends tomorrow, honey. Tell them what a marvellous night I had and how you are all I expected,” she offered. It would be important to spread rumors of her happiness before the news of the cancelled wedding surfaced, after all. Marcus smiled at her, genuinely pleased at her wife’s understanding of the situation. He would make it up to her… sometime soon.
“I’ll make the arrangements,” offered Molly, trying to be useful as she interrupted the couple.
“You do that, yes,” replied Jennifer, not looking at her. She finished her drink shadowing Marcus as he drank his. Then took his glass, and handed both to Molly, seemingly absentmindedly. “Take these to the kitchen and wash them,” she said dismissively, letting all her rich girl haughtiness fill her tone. Molly pressed her lips and took the glasses. She was a slave. A major whore in the household, but a whore nonetheless. She couldn’t ignore a direct order, no matter how demeaning. Much less after the bitch had performed so perfectly what Marcus needed. She turned to leave.
“Oh, and Molly,” added Jennifer, as if just thinking of something, twisting the figurative knife in the wound, “Marcus and I will be skipping breakfast tomorrow. There’s still lots of fucking for us to do, and we’ll be dead tired. Do be a doll and not bother us with breakfast, yes? Tell the other major whores Marcus will be introducing me to them at lunch, ok? Thank you,” she said, her white teeth flashing a smile that could cut stone, her voice oozing with venomous sweetness.
Molly took the last few steps out of the room, glasses held in her hand, her lips pressed tight. She was so angry she couldn’t even speak. All she managed to do was a nod and rush out before the cunt forced her to say something. Before the tears of anger and frustration began running out of her eyes. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold them back. She had won. Her plan had worked. And she wold get the glory as well. But somehow, that Hart bitch had ended up in the better standing. She had taken the sweetness of victory away, and left Molly feeling defeated and shamed. She gritted her teeth and mentally swore to herself she would personally kill the cunt. The last thing she heard was some muttering of Jennifer telling Marcus she was going to take a shower so she could be kissable for him again.