Bastian overpowers John and strips her

Bastian easily sidestepped John's headlong rush, his hands reaching out and grabbing a fistful of the former man's long blonde hair. One firm jerk sent John tumbling to the floor in a mass of skirts and lace. She tried to elbow her assailant but Bastian instead grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her to her feet.

"I see I have to show you your place, girl."

"Let go of me let go of me aah!" John gasped as, with a single smooth motion, Bastian rips the front of the wedding gown and pulls it down to her hips. Another tug and her wedding lingerie is in tatters as well, and the feeling of the silk being violently pulled down over her overly sensitive skin added to the overwhelming barrage of sensations that made the new woman swoon.

"You don't make demands, sweetie," Bastian said. "You don't get to have a choice. You're mine now, John. Mine."

"You sick piece of - uuhn!" John's curses broke off in a choked moan as Bastian's strong, calloused hand roughly groped her tender breasts. Immediately she felt her traitorous body go hot, her groin suddenly and humiliatingly wet.

"These? These are mine. Your lips?"

Bastian grabbed her face and **** a passionate french kiss on John's helpless lips.

"Mmmm!MMMMmmph!"

(Hot. So hot...)

"Mine."

"No!" John choked out, jerking away. "Bastian, stop, plea -"

"Your virginity? Your womanhood?"

As John screamed, Bastian dragged her up against the wall. With practiced motions he held her against it, her wedding dress pooling around her long legs, her arms helpless against his strength.

"That's mine too. Mine to claim, right here, and right now."

John sobbed. No, no this can't be happening!

"That is, unless you give me the correct answer to this one little question:"

"Who are you?"