Courtney & *** In: Bridal Humiliation By Lover And Wi
Duration: 0min 30sec
Views: 6 533
Submitted: 4 months ago
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Description:
Courtney stood at the altar, her fingers trembling around the bouquet of flowers, her breath shallow beneath the weight of her wedding dress. The bodice hugged her curves like a second skin.Her stomach twisted. *Where the fuck is he?*
Then—movement. A figure stepped out from the shadows near the side aisle, heels clicking sharply against the floor. Courtney’s breath caught. It wasn’t him.
*** moved with the predatory grace of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing.
“Looking for someone, sweetheart?” Her voice was a purr, low and dripping with amusement.
“He sent me to give you his regrets.” Her gaze flicked up, locking onto Courtney’s with a glint of something dark and hungry. “He’s *busy*.”
A cold dread slithered down Courtney’s spine. “What the fuck does that mean?”
*** didn’t answer. Instead, she moved faster than Courtney could react, her hand darting into the small clutch she carried. Before Courtney could pull away, *** pressed a folded cloth into her mouth gagging Courtney.
“Shhh,” *** murmured against her ear, her breath hot. “Just relax, darling. This’ll be over soon.”
*** removed Courtney’s wedding dress .The lace gave way with a tear, the sound obscene in the silent chapel. Her arms were wrenched behind her back, the rough bite of rope digging into her wrists as *** bound them tightly, the fibers sawing against her skin. Courtney whimpered, the gag muffling the sound, her bare breasts rising and falling with ragged breaths as the dress pooled at her feet.
*** stepped back, admiring her handiwork. Courtney stood there, naked except for her panties, her chest heaving, her wrists already aching from the cruel knots. The rope cut into her flesh, the fibers abrasive, unyielding. She tried to speak, to scream, but the cloth in her mouth turned her protests into wet, gagging noises.
The cool chapel air raised goosebumps along her skin, she tried to squeeze her thighs together, but *** grabbed her ankles, pulling them apart before wrapping more rope around them, binding them tightly. The fibers bit into her flesh, the knots digging in as *** pulled them cruelly snug.
Courtney’s vision blurred with unshed tears. She was trapped. Helpless. *Used.*
*** stood, brushing her hands together as if she’d just finished a menial task. “There. Much better.” She turned toward the chapel doors, her hips swaying. “Now, let’s—”
The heavy oak doors burst open with a crash.
A woman stood in the threshold, her silhouette framed by the fading light.
Her gaze swept over the scene—Courtney bound and gagged, *** smirking like a cat with cream—and her lips thinned into a razor’s edge.
*** stiffened. “Who the fuck are you?”
The woman stepped forward, her heels striking the marble with deliberate slowness. “I’m your lovers *wife*, you stupid bitch.” She reached into her purse, pulling out a roll of tape. “And you’ve just made a *very* big mistake.”
*** barely had time to react before the woman lunged, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her head back. *** snarled, but the woman moved like lightning, slapping a strip of tape over her mouth, pressing it down hard. ***’s muffled screams filled the chapel as the woman spun her around, holding her hands behind her back. Another length of rope appeared—thicker, rougher—and the woman bound ***’s wrists with brutal efficiency, the knots biting deep.
Courtney watched, her heart hammering, as the woman worked. She didn’t stop at the wrists. No, she dropped to her knees, grabbing ***’s ankles and lashing them together with the same merciless precision. *** thrashed, her body twisting, but the woman was relentless, her movements sharp, practiced. She stood, shoving *** forward so that she stumbled, landing hard on her knees before toppling onto her side with a pained grunt.
The woman turned to Courtney, her gaze raking over her bound body with cold assessment. “Pathetic,” she muttered, before kneeling in front of her. Courtney tried to recoil, but there was nowhere to go. The woman’s fingers traced the ropes at her wrists, testing the knots. “Amateur work.” She clicked her tongue. “But we’ll fix that.”
Courtney whimpered, her hips jerking involuntarily, but the woman ignored her, threading the rope up to her ankles, binding them to her wrists in a cruel hogtie. The position made her back arch, the rope sawing into her skin with every desperate squirm.
“There,” the woman said, stepping back. “Much better.”
*** was next. The woman rolled her onto her stomach, ignoring her muffled screams as she bent her knees, bringing her ankles up toward her bound wrists. Another length of rope, another series of punishing knots. ***’s body trembled, her muscles straining as the woman cinched the hogtie tight, her body just as exposed as Courtney’s.
he woman stood, dusting off her hands. She looked between them, her expression unreadable. “You’re both his, aren’t you?” Her voice was soft now, almost conversational. “His little sluts. His toys.”
Whimper tore from Courtney’s and Renees throats as the woman stood, her heels clicking against the marble as she circled them. *** was still thrashing, her body glistening with sweat, her muffled curses useless against the tape. The woman knelt beside her, running a hand over the curve of her ass before leaving them alone to struggle in their bonds.
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