My Cuckold Wedding

 

Chapter 5 - Wedding Preparations

The Reverend Martin Galbraith had not changed very much in the fifteen years since Sunday  School, except his hair was thinner now and showed thin streaks of grey in his dark hair. He still had that friendly, happy look on his face which had made him popular among the people, of all faiths, of our small town. Tall and with an air of ‘goodness’ about him he exuded all of the good characteristics of a man who understood most of humanity's weaknesses and forgave all – he was a very nice man. 

Smiling at us he beckoned us to follow him down the long dark wood lined corridor to his office at the end. Passing the kitchen I glanced in and was met with a warm smile from Suzanne who was having a quiet and very friendly moment with Ramone. ‘So it's true' I thought as she turned back to her lover – back in the friendly moment.

‘So it's true,’ 

Three chairs had been arranged in front of Martin's desk and a pot of hot coffee and cups had been placed on a tray nearby on a small table. Like the corridor, the office was all polished dark wood that smelled of lavender wax and old books. It was the lair of the clerical intellectual – a man with a fierce analytical brain - a thinker. And I liked him immediately. 

Coffee was poured, sipped, appreciated and then set aside before the conversation began. I sensed that this was a deliberate move on Martin’s part, and I appreciated this ploy probably been used many times before, in order to relax the interviewee before the  difficult questions began.

“Haven't seen much of you recently Mary,” Martin said to me, and then turning to my fiancée, “or you Mark.” 

“It’s been a few years Reverend,” I replied – sufficiently chastened by this mild mannered cleric, who then turned to my Lover. 

“And now to business,” he said as he put his fingertips together as if in silent prayer, “so perhaps you would like to start please Gregg.” 

Gregg paused before responding. “It was all unforeseen Martin. You may recall that I told you that Terri and her husband had left and taken the baby to Toronto ..” 

Martin nodded, which confirmed to me that he knew more about Gregg than I had thought; but there was more to come. 

“I thought that I was facing a lonely time ahead, and I was prepared for that to be my future,” Gregg continued, “and then Mary came into my life. Along with her fiancée Mark.” 

“So you have a three cornered relationship?” Martin asked, to  establish the facts of our relationship. 

“Exactly!” Gregg confirmed. “And now Mary and Mark wish to marry.” 

“I see!” Martin said - his fingers still together in spiritual contemplation. “ And what about you Mark. Do you still wish to marry Mary, even though she is now in a relationship with Gregg and will be after she is your Wife?” 

“Of course!” 

Martin was visibly taken aback by the strength of Mark's reply, and it showed in his next question. 

“And you are content to live the life of a ....” he stopped. 

“A cuckold you mean?” 

Again, Martin was surprised at Mark's positivity – as I was; but Gregg just had that content smile on his face that he gets when he knows that he has given me a good time in bed. He clearly had a better knowledge of human aberrations than I. 

“You know what it means to be ..... a cuckold?” 

“Reverend,” Mark replied after a moment's hesitation, “I have loved Mary since We were children and she has only ever been the one for me. I have always known and accepted that she likes the attentions of other men, but now she has a good man as her permanent Lover and I am comfortable with that.” 

“Good heavens,” Martin exclaimed. “And you still love her?” 

Mark nodded his head emphatically and then, turning to me, Martin asked, “And you Mary. I remember you and Mark at Sunday School years ago and I always thought you were a strong-willed young lady who knew what she wanted. I don't think I was wrong in that respect, or was I?” 

At that moment I was unsure if I had just been praised or insulted, nevertheless I knew what my answer was going to be. 

“If being strong-willed means knowing what I want,” I replied, “then guilty as charged. But I have been lucky enough to fall in love with two men - who love me in return.” 

“And are you willing to be the centre of this polyamorous relationship?” Martin asked me. 

“Gregg and Mark are two different men completely, and I love them both equally for who they are,” was my answer. 

And then, because I could sense a reluctance by the Reverend to accept the honesty of my explanation, I decided to go in for the kill. “Just as Susannah probably does.” 

The office became very silent for a second as all eyes turned to me - Mark's in horror, Gregg's in amazement, and Martin's in amused but gentle forgiveness, which made me immediately regret making  personal. 

“I wasn't doubting you Mary, and you are right to raise the matter of my own marriage arrangements,” was Martin’s response. “But before I can continue with any wedding arrangements I have to be certain that all three of you are serious about your future lives.” 

I shouldn't have, but I bridled again at his insinuation that we were ‘not serious’. 

“Reverend,” I said in the voice I reserve for ‘time wasters’ at work, “I can assure you we are very, very serious about our new lives together. We are not children!” 

Mark's face was even more fixed in horror. Gregg's countenance had changed from amazement to suppressed amusement. And Martin's was one of patience – gentle but firm. 

“I think that I should ask my Wife and her Boyfriend to come in and talk to you about our life,” Martin said as he stood up and made his way to the door. “Her name is Suzanne by the way. Not Susannah!” 

“I told you Mary was different,” Gregg said to Martin as he went through the door. The response was a conspiratorial grin between the pair of them. And I felt sorry again. 

“Mary!” Mark whispered so that his voice couldn't carry down the corridor, “You can't talk to a reverend like that.” 

“Why not?” was my response, “I thought he was trying to back out.” 

Mark was about to respond, but Gregg beat him to it. “Mary! Martin is only exercising his pastoral responsibilities,” he said, as he reached out to hold my hand. “His duty of care, if you will.” 

“My husband was not trying to back out,” said the pretty middle aged Woman who came through the door, closely followed by the handsome dark man who had been with her as we had entered. Sitting before me she looked directly into my eyes and  continued, “But he needs me to make sure that you know how to handle the wants, needs, and emotions of two different males.” 

Suzanne was not a stuffy (albeit nice) churchman with a supposed ‘duty of care’, but a sensuous married Woman with a Lover who sat beside her – close beside her – looking to help her husband in his work. 

“Can I ask you some personal questions Mary?” 

I glanced over to Gregg, who nodded imperceptibly. 

“Sure!” 

“Gregg here,” she said, looking towards my Lover, “is the man who's bed you share?” 

“Yes!” 

“And Mark is the man you wish to marry? And he wishes to marry you?” 

“Yes!” 

“And once you are married to Mark, you will continue to be Gregg's Mistress. Is that correct?” 

I nodded – wondering where this line of questioning was going. 

Suzanne looked away and reached for Ramone’s hand and squeezed in a gesture of understanding.  “Mary,” she said, “once you are married and Gregg is still your Lover, which of them do you think will feel the most insecure.” 

“Neither of them,” I replied without thinking, “I love them both.” 

“Really?” Suzanne exclaimed. “So we have Mark here, ready and willing to be your willing cuckold so that he can devote his life to you. Spending his life with you sharing all the day to day happiness, frustrations, triumphs, and tragedies of your life. And Gregg who takes you to bed regularly and gives you all the physical loving that a young and vibrant Woman like you has every right to expect, but then goes home; or wishes you goodnight when you return to Mark. So who is the most insecure?” 

I was confused, and said so. 

“Okay then! For the sake of argument, who of the two – Master or cuckold – would be the easiest to replace?” Suzanne said. 

What she had said was a revelation and I sat open mouthed at the thought of what she was telling me. 

“And the boys here know exactly what I am saying. Don't you Gregg? Don't you Mark?” 

Both nodded in agreement. Mark looked calmer now, but Gregg’s smile was now frozen on his bearded handsome face. Because Suzanne had just voiced an inescapable fact in that quiet little room., but she wasn't finished with her theory. 

“Because big handsome Lovers are not difficult to find, are they Mary? But a timid little hubby who wears the cuckold’s cage of celibacy is a much rarer creature who is to be treasured, nurtured, and gently schooled in his devotional duties.” 

“I guess that is probably true,” I replied as I looked at Mark in a new light, “But willing married Mistresses are not that difficult to find for (I glanced meaningfully over at Gregg and made an air quote) ‘big handsome Lovers’. Are they Suzanne?” 

Suzanne smiled in recognition of my counter-argument and then, while stroking the back of Ramone’s head, asked the question that changed everything. “So how are you going to keep both men happy Mary?” 

“I shall marry Mark and give him what he wants.” 

“And that is?” 

“Mark wants to be totally submissive to Gregg and me – emotionally, physically, and sexually ..” I said to Suzanne, and then turning to Mark I continued, “... isn't that right Mark.” 

Mark's face coloured in embarrassment, but he met her eye as he responded with a whispered, “Yes Mistress!” 

Suzanne looked at Mark enquiringly for a moment to convince herself that his response was an honest answer and, having decided that it was, turned to me again. She smiled mischievously as she asked the next question. 

“And how are you going to keep Gregg in your bed Mary?” 

I heard Gregg chuckle at this cheeky request for my future plans, but I thought I knew what I was going to say. However even I surprised myself with what I told Suzanne that afternoon; Mark too was given something to think about. 

“In the same way that Mark is submissive to me, then Gregg is totally my Master. I belong to him in every way a Woman can belong to a man. My body is his to use whenever, wherever, and however he wants me. I am not only his Personal Assistant in my professional capacity, but I am his Pleasure Mistress in every other way; and if he wishes to put a little version of himself to grow inside me then, that too will be welcome – doubly so!” 

Suzanne gasped, Mark gave out a muffled scream, Gregg raised an eyebrow and then smiled. 

“Well that's pretty clear then,” Suzanne commented after a few moments silence in the room, “but one more question.” I readied myself for another interrogation, but I was wrong. 

“For Mark,” she said turning to my fiancée whose face had now drained of blood at the intensity of her gaze. 

“Tell me little cuckold. How far have you taken your preparations?” 

Mark coughed, crossed one foot over the other, squirmed in his seat and then, in an almost inaudible voice, replied, “I have a little cage.” 

Suzanne’s laughter rippled like water through the room, bringing an aura of lightness into that brown wooden walled austere cleric’s office. 

“And do you like wearing it on your ‘little guy’?” she asked.

"I'm getting used to it," was his direct response. 

“I'm getting used to it.” 

“And have you attended your future Wife's happy moments with her Master?” 

“I have Mistress.” 

Suzanne nodded approval, and then asked, “And did you participate?” 

“Yes Mistress!” 

“Naked?” 

“Me Mistress? Yes Mistress!” 

Suzanne looked suitably pleased, and exclaimed, “Excellent!” And then asked my fiancée one more question. “And have you femmed up Mark?” 

“Mistress?” 

“You know what I am saying cuckold,” Suzanne said with a stern look that fooled no one. “And have you worn panties? Stockings maybe, or a little journey down the full black lingerie road maybe. Has that tickled your senses while your future Wife invites her Lover to join her between her open thighs? Or little black panties to cover your little cage?”

"... to cover your little cage?”

Mark now knew what she meant by being ‘femmed up’ and as the implication of what she had asked grew, his face became the colour of a ripe tomato. But eventually he plucked up enough courage to speak. “I wore a pair of Mary's ......” 

“Stop right there cuckold,” Suzanne exclaimed loudly – startling Gregg and I. “You will address her as Mistress at all times.” 

“Yes Suza..... I mean Mistress,” he stuttered, then shook his head and said quietly to himself, “So many Mistresses.” 

“A pair of what cuckold?” 

“White panties Mistress. See-through.” 

“And did you like wearing them?” 

Mark sat open mouthed at this question, his eyes frantically looking around at Gregg and I before replying, “Yes Mistress!” 

There was no reticence in his answer. It was as if in that brief moment of admission to feeling pleasure of feminising Mark had crossed a boundary; he had ‘come out' and the relief on his face was unmistakable to all of us in that room. And I felt happy for him because there could no longer be any confliction between his perceived and actual manliness – he was now a sissy cuckold, and happy to be so. 

The meeting ended with Martin returning to the room and Suzanne telling him to – “Give these kids what they want Martin, and get them married.” The date for our wedding was set for four weeks later. 

That night, Gregg and I went to bed with Mark in attendance. We were uplifted with optimism about our futures, especially when Martin had agreed to the minor re-wording of my (not Mark's) wedding vows and had arranged for Gregg and I to have a small private ceremony in the Registry after the main church event. Mark had also agreed to sign a pledge to recognise Gregg's right to be my marital mate. “We call it the polyamorous contract,” he had said, “but you will not find it in any Canon Law.” 

He looked at our confused faces, so continued, “You may have heard that the modern church has recognised gay marriages,” we nodded because it had been in the papers just that very morning, “however the clergy have agreed that the public are not ready for three person marriages yet, but have agreed to a slight bending of the rules if the local priest deems it to be a stable relationship.” 

“And is our three person relationship stable?” asked Gregg. 

“Suzanne and I think it is, and that you will soon enjoy a happy and successful Cuckold Marriage like ours,” replied the Reverend who had just watched his own Wife disappear upstairs with Ramone, after the interview had finished. 

It was with that meeting in mind when I remarked to Gregg, “I think Mark has had his horizons broadened, ”as our cuckold knelt before me and rolled my stockings down my legs. 

My Lover looked down at my fiancée and took in the naked Mark, with hold-ups on his legs, and panties covering his tiny caged penis and replied, “He knows exactly where he's going, and he has just started. Haven't you Mark.” 

Mark looked up and smiled in agreement, and then went back to unrolling the flimsy material down my left leg. Mark was clearly enjoying his journey. 

We made love that night with Mark attending to our needs from his position beside our bed. Silently he watched Gregg enter me to make passionate and noisy love, and at our climax he had the good manners to refrain from positioning his tongue on my labia until Gregg had rolled away and was relaxing with his customary satisfied look on his handsome face. Similarly, he waited patiently for Gregg's beckoning before lowering his mouth down onto the large pink manhood so as to coax it back to hardness. 

Three times Gregg took me in his big soft bed and pleasured himself and I with the thrusts of his massive member deep inside my body- and three times my fiancée did what a sissy cuckold should do by cleaning the semen from my vagina and consuming the sticky salty must that had erupted from the man he now openly referred to as ‘Master’. And twice, Mark resurrected the pole of my happiness until sleep overcame us; but not to be outdone, Mark joined Gregg in the shower that morning to drain him of his seed for the forthcoming day, as I watched from outside the cubicle with a white towel on my wet hair. Our lives were beginning to follow a pattern that would last us for a very long time.

... as I watched from outside ...

The following day Gregg, me, and Mark jumped into the Maserati and drove around the lake to the new estate office of the new homes that we being erected along the shore across from Gregg's apartment block. The timber clad houses were colourful, well insulated, warm, and had all the modern appliances that a newly married couple with a young family should need. And the property that we chose, by the lakeside, was my dream home – that I looked forward to being constructed - eventually. But that was for another day because we had a wedding to plan. 

I was still becoming accustomed to Mark's submissiveness and I have to admit to feeling uncomfortable with my new role of Mistress over her cuckold. I was happy with being Gregg's obedient Mistress because it was one of the great joys in my life to lie on my back and open my legs for him, but as my fiancée's involvement in our lovemaking became more obedient, I was beginning to realise that this way of life was the  one he had wanted for all of his life. And that realisation was confirmed the night (after our meeting with Martin, Suzanne, and Ramone) that Gregg unwrapped a brand-new small leather collar and asked Mark if he would want it as a symbol of his cuckolding. 

Mark said nothing in reply, but knelt on the floor before me and said, “Please fasten it on me Mistress.” 

I was no longer in any doubt. Mark was what he wanted to be and, after fastening the buckle, I turned him to face me. His eyes were full of love for me and happiness at his servitude; and that is why I kissed him on his forehead and called him ‘My little cuckold’ – which pleased both him and Gregg. 

Clearly, such a symbol of bondage, could not be worn in his normal day to day life but from that day to this, he has worn his collar when we are alone together. His penis restraint was subject to a slightly different routine, in that it was a permanent fit while at home but for work he would remove the cage and replace it with a small chain wrapped around the base of his ‘little man’ and his tiny testicles. From that moment, this would be the routine he would follow every day without fail because, in his own words, ‘With this chain I will never forget I am a willing cuckold’. 

It was Mark, a week after we had signed the agreement to buy the house, who raised the matter of starting a family. I knew that it had been on his mind, because of his reaction to my declaration that I would welcome Gregg's impregnation. 

“You do know, don't you Mary, that you don't need my permission to start a family,” he said quietly in the SUV as we were returning to our parents who, it must be said, had been remarkably patient with our sleeping (or lack of) habits. 

I was about to give my fiancée a flippant answer, but then realised the implications of what he was asking me while at the same time telling me just what he considered to be his position in our relationship. This was a moment that needed some delicacy - but then again I was supposed to be his Mistress (the dominant kind) – so my reply was less than empathetic. 

“Don't worry cuckold,” I replied as I opened the vehicle door, “I shall let you know when my tits start to swell.” 

I regretted it immediately and looked back at Mark's face that I had imagined to be stricken with humiliation, but he was smiling back at me before replying, “Now you are getting the idea Mistress.” 

Where does this total submission come from in a man? Is this wish to be subjugated and to administer sexual intimacies to both sexes a personality trait? Is it masochism? Was my fiancée mentally unstable? All these thoughts swept in and out of my brain as I walked up the path the my Mother's house – the house I would soon be leaving for good. 

“So you are marrying Mark as well as being bedded by your big beautiful Boss. Is that it?” Mom asked me when I told her about the wedding plans. 

I was surprised that my Mother knew about my unusual three cornered love-life and said so. 

“Like father- like son,” she said. “Mark’s Mother, Annette, has had a few Boyfriends over the years. Have you ever wondered why Mark doesn't have ginger hair like his Alexander, his Dad?” 

I hadn't! It had never occurred to my why Mark was so completely different to his Father. Although of similar build, Mark had a darker, almost Latin, complexion whereas Alex was of Scottish red-haired stock. 

“And Alex knew?” I asked. 

“Of course?” Mom replied, as she pushed her dinner around her plate absentmindedly. “And he used to arrange her dates for her.” 

“What? Tell me more.” 

“No! They're friends of mine Mary, and you know all you need to know,” she replied and started to eat her dinner in silence. 

Another time I would have wanted that conversation to  continue, but I was tired and I had a wedding to plan – with Gregg. But Mom had something else to say. 

“That's the thing about kids Mary”, she said while smiling back at me, “they think they invent everything that’s new. Nothing is Dear. Nothing in this world anyway!” 

“Yes Mom. Goodnight Mom!” 

The following morning Mom had forgotten her little piece of Mark's family history and her homespun philosophy and told me that she would take over all of the preparations for my wedding to Mark. I was grateful for two reasons – I didn't have the time (or the money) – it gave me more time to lie in my Lover's bed. 

I reflected on Mom's words as I ate my breakfast that morning. It was an incredibly generous offer to pay and arrange for my wedding to Mark. “It should have been your Father’s job,” she had said, but he was no longer living with us so she had stepped in to help. 

I felt guilty that I hadn't taken Mom into my confidence about Gregg but she had clearly guessed what had been happening in my new job. Then she stunned me with what she had said next. 

“I assume that you have put ‘the cage’ on Mark,” she said as she bit into a slice of toast. 

I put my coffee down quickly before my shaking hand spilled it all onto the table and Mom, of course, saw the shock on my face and laughed. 

“Y.. Y.... YES....” I gulped. 

“I told you Dear. Nothing's new. Those things have been around for years – in one form or another.” 

But she wasn't finished with me yet. I sat, with my coffee still safe on the table, waiting for her inevitable question. “So who is promising to do what at the Wedding?” 

A simple question at last. “It will be a normal wedding except that I shall not vow to obey and be faithful.” 

“And Mark?” 

“He will take the full vow. All of it.” 

“And who will give you away Mary?” Mom asked. 

“I have asked Gregg to stand beside me at the altar,” I replied. 

“Your Lover giving you to your new husband? That's different!” 

“Not really Mom, because Gregg will join us in the Registry for another small ceremony between the three of us.” 

“A cuckold’s contract?” Mom asked. 

“My word! How did you guess?” 

Mom looked smug at my surprised reaction as she replied, “Our Reverend Martin Galbraith has officiated this kind of wedding before. He might have told you that Mary.” 

“He did!” 

“And you know that he's a cuckold too?” 

“I do,” I replied, “and he was very sympathetic to our situation.” 

“So he should be, now that his Wife, Suzanne, is expecting another of her Lover's children.” 

Mom looked at me again, in that intense way she had when she was sure of what she was saying. “You do know, don't you Mary,” she said slowly, so every word sank into my brain, “that being a cuckold husband will not make Mark less of a man. Because he will not in my eyes.” 

Mom was as good as her word and, although I was saved the time, worry, and expense of making the arrangements, she managed to keep me up to date with her plans. All I had to do was please Gregg in his bed and be kind and thoughtful to Mark while simultaneously humiliating him sufficiently to keep his submissive masochist tendencies simmering. And with each humiliation he grew happier by the day. 

Two weeks after my talk with Mom, Gregg, Mark and I were sitting in his kitchen once again on a Saturday morning after a particularly long and exhausting night of loving. Gregg and I were comfortably naked under our silk robes, while Mark looked sweet in a very nice cuckold’s ensemble, and it was he who raised the question over consummation.

... Mark looked sweet ...

He had been quiet the night before and had attended to his duties with commendable diligence. Even as I sat on the stool against the breakfast bar the memory of his warm tongue on my labia happily scooping out Gregg's seed onto his tongue to swallow in that act of total subservience was a happy recollection of the pleasures of the body. “We know what is going to happen at the wedding don't we?” he asked. 

“Yes cuckold,” said Gregg kindly, despite the reference to his status, “what's on your mind?” 

“What about afterwards? You know.... the honeymoon..... and con ........” 

“Consummation?” said Gregg to help move the conversation on – Mark nodded. “I think that is Mary's call.” And Mark nodded again.