[MF] The Wedding Plan: Something Old [cheating] [BDSM] [DDlg] [cuck] [brainwashing]

Something old, something new. Something borrowed, something blue.

You forgot one, didn’t you?

Something old.

Your future Mother-in-Law gave you something. Maybe that counts? And you already forgot where you put it. Send Alicia to find it. She’s a good bridesmaid and probably isn’t planning on getting fucked by a groomsman tonight.

Definitely don’t send Bethany. That bitch-of-honor fucked up your bachlorette party bad. Just a weak, tame mess.

Bethany didn’t know you during your slut phase. But I did.

I know exactly what kind of slut you are, don’t I?

You started with random hook-ups with college bros. Boys your age. They were fine. Cute. Nice cocks and hey, some of them even managed to last more than 5 minutes. Good for them.

Only you got curious, and you started poking around the internet. Such a naughty slut.

The fantasies escalated. BDSM. Rope. Spanking. Older men. Exhibitionism. Degradation. Just masturbating to these ideas made your clit throb. What if you actually met up with someone and tried it?

One night with me. It was supposed to be one night, right?

And I taught you what a filthy slut you really are.

I didn’t bother buying you drinks or getting to know your name. That wasn’t important. What was important was seeing you moan like a whore as I pushed a vibrator against your clit. You begged me for permission to cum as I filled your cunt with a dildo. And before you could form a coherent sentence, I was already fucking you raw and choking you.

The bruises of that night took a week to heal. And every time you took a picture of them for me, you could feel your pussy warm.

You wanted more.

At first, you tried to resist.

But every now and then, you caught yourself looking at the videos of what I did to you. Listening to my voice, wondering what *else* I could do to you.

It was brainwashing at its finest. Not some sci-fi mindbender “look at this spiral wheel” crap. Just a simple Pavlovian trigger carved into your soul. For an entire year, you could cum without getting permission from me.

You needed to hear my voice say the words, “Cum for me, you little slut.”

It was frustrating. But every time you did cum, you didn’t care. It was worth it, being Daddy’s Little Slut.

An entire year of your life, you didn’t bother dating. You didn’t need romance. You had school, your job, and being the cumdump of a married man twice your age.

If only Bethany knew about this, she could have at least gotten you a stripper.

But as far as you know, your slut life was a secret, kept by you and me… well and also those random men that I made you suck off. But none of them knew your name.

It’s been a few years since we officially ended your slut phase, hasn’t it?

And you sent me an invite. To your wedding. That was a bold move.

Almost as if you were asking for it.

Begging me to find you before the ceremony.

All these years later, and your body still craves the words, doesn’t it?

Cum for me, you little slut.

It’s still about another 20 minutes before you need to be getting in your dress. Ashley has convinced Bethany and the rest of your entourage to give you some time alone to breathe, to relax, to finish a glass of champagne.

20 minutes alone, and you’re in a pristine white corset. Ready to marry the man you love, even if you have to pretend I’m talking to you to cum.

Cum for me, you little slut.

Ashley probably knows what you really need to do. Just a quick 20 minutes alone to run your fingers between your legs like a dirty little slut.

And you can’t stop thinking about the time I tied you up in the public dungeon.

The time I fucked your ass on the side of the road.

The time I made you cum in a hotel hot tub.

You were thinking about me so much, you almost wondered if you manifested me, in the doorway, slowly unbuckling the belt of my suit pants.

There’s the shock and shyness of someone invading your personal time. You’ve felt that horror since you were a teen. Even though I’ve made you masturbate in front of me countless times, it still has that initial shock.

Then there’s the flash of shame and duty to your fiance. He’s only a couple rooms down the hall, welcoming family members and smiling and having the biggest day of his life.

Could you betray him?

Do you even have enough time to comprehend this?

Does it matter?

My hand is around your neck. Your hand is still stroking your clit.

“Be a good girl for Daddy and I won’t mess up your makeup.”

You nod.

There’s nothing else you can do. You don’t own your body.

I do.

There’s no foreplay here. I’m hard, your pussy is wet. We have maybe 15 minutes. You don’t even need five.

It’s easy enough to pull your ankles up and hold them, dragging your pussy to my cock. You lean back in the overstuffed chair, feeling that familiar sensation of being a whore for Daddy.

The taboo of it all makes your body flush. If you moan, your mother might hear. Your Maid of Honor. Your fiance.

And part of you wants to moan so loudly that the DJ and the caterer know you’re a worthless whore.

“Please,” you start to beg.

I ignore you. I’m not done yet.

“Please Daddy.”

You know calling me Daddy always makes me throb. I start to push harder. It takes you a moment, biting your lip and trying to control your pussy.

“Please Daddy,” you say. “I need to cu-u-um.”

Just saying cum nearly made you lose it.

You don’t dare think what would happen if you misbehave now.

“Please.”

I can feel it now. I need it.

I give your neck another hard squeeze.

“Cum for me, you little slut.”

Your eyes roll back. You needed this for so long. You don’t care that the wedding is off. You just want to be a whore for Daddy.

I cum harder than I was expecting. Throbbing inside of you, filling you.

I curse a bit as I pull out, making sure I don’t get any cum on my suit. I didn’t pack a spare.

“Clean me up, fucktoy,” I say. It’s almost a reflex.

Without hesitation, you start licking my cock and balls clean. Normally, this is when I try to stay hard, to fuck you again and longer.

But right now, there’s things to do. I reluctantly pull my cock away from your mouth.

“Now fix your panties,” I say. “Your girls will be putting that dress on you in five minutes.”

The room is spinning.

You didn’t imagine me fucking you, cumming inside of you. You can feel your panties start to soak up the mess.

“What?”

“You’re getting married?”

You’re thinking you can’t get married. How? You just fucked another man on your wedding day. You came like a dirty little whore while a man called you a slut, and it was the best orgasm of your life. There’s no way you deserve to get married.

“I can’t,” you say. “I’m … dirty.”

You did not expect gentleness.

A soft kiss on the head.

“You’re perfect,” I say. “A perfect fucktoy, and a perfect future wife.”

“Are you…” confusion starts to ramble around. “I can’t marry you.”

I tried to not chuckle, but you’re right.

“Of course you’re not marrying me,” I say. “You’re marrying that cuck outside. What’s his name? I can never remember it.”

“Charles,” You say dryly.

“That’s it,” I say, snapping my fingers. “It was nice catching up with him last night.”

Again, confusion. I finish tucking my shirt in.

“You two… know each other?”

I straighten my tie in your mirror, and look at you through the reflection.

“We go way back,” I say. “He used to book hotel rooms for me and watch me fuck random sluts. Every now and then, I’d let the slut suck his cock. He loved that.”

It clicks.

Charles.

Charles the cuck, with his half-limp cock in your mouth as Daddy fucks you senseless.

Charles the fiance, waiting to marry you with Daddy’s cum soaking through your panties.

“Now, I know I normally use your slut body longer than THAT,” I say, “So consider this foreplay. Get your dress on, say ‘I do,’ and we’ll pick this up at the reception, OK?”

I give you one more kiss on the forehead, then slip out the door. Ashley is there. She winks at me, then goes to check on you.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/yvgsf0/mf_the_wedding_plan_something_old_cheating_bdsm