The big plan?

I was still kneeling there, my face a hot, sticky mask of cum, spit, and tears, my body a single trembling, overstimulated wreck. The last cock had just pumped its final spurt down my throat—thick, salty, bitter; it ran out of my nose, over my lips, dripping in long, sticky strands from my chin straight onto my bare, heavy tits. My pussy cramped again, the vibrator hummed mercilessly deep inside me, pressing against my G-spot, and another small, helpless squirt shot out of me, slapping loudly against the inside of the transparent dome and running warm down my thighs. I could barely breathe. My asshole twitched, empty and visible; my clit was so swollen it throbbed with every heartbeat.

*There must be a bigger plan. Florian wouldn’t just do this to me. Not after everything. Not after the wedding. Something explains this. A hidden inheritance? Maybe his family has some crazy tradition he never told me about—something only the real wife has to go through to inherit everything. Or a test. Yes, a test. He’s testing how much I really love him, how far I’ll go for him. Or… maybe this is all just a sick dream. An extremely detailed, hot nightmare from which I’m about to wake up, in his arms, and he’ll laugh and say, “Just kidding, honey.” No. It’s real.*

But it wasn’t a dream. No way. The taste of cum in my mouth was too real. The burning in my throat. The cold, hard plastic of the dome forcing my hips apart. The stares of the entire wedding party, the cell phones, the laughter. It was all real. And yet I clung to that thought like a lifeline: *There’s a plan. He loves me. He has to love me.*

Suddenly, it was over.

Sara yanked my head up, her fingers still brutally tangled in my sticky hair. She grinned at me—that mix of malice and something that almost looked like pride. “Enough for today, little sister. The guys had their fun. Now comes the main event of the night.”

She pulled me up. My legs buckled, my knees soft as rubber after all those orgasms. Cum dripped from my face onto the floor as she dragged me through the gap in the curtain. The crowd cheered, clapped, whistled. I heard Florian’s laughter somewhere in the distance, but I couldn’t see him. Sara just kept dragging me along, barefoot, staggering, the transparent dome wobbling with every step and pushing the vibrator even deeper into my dripping pussy. Every step made my swollen labia rub against each other, causing fresh juices to gush out.

We reached the wedding bedrooms—a large, dimly lit room at the back of the venue, just for us. Candlelight, a huge bed, and in the middle… a sex swing. Black leather straps, chains, everything ready. My heart was racing.

Sara hesitated briefly. She looked at me, my smeared face, the strands of cum in my cleavage, the puddle forming beneath the dome. “Actually, I should clean you up first… but fuck it.” She laughed softly, almost tenderly. “Florian wants you exactly like this. Dirty. Used. Ready.”

With a jerk, she pulled off the last remnant of the hoop skirt—the transparent dome. The plastic fell to the floor with a loud clatter. Suddenly I was free. Naked. Wearing only the remnants of my torn wedding dress, which barely covered my tits. The vibrator slipped out a bit, glistening with my juices, and I moaned loudly because the sudden emptiness was so intense.

Sara pushed me forward—not roughly, but firmly. I stumbled toward the sex swing, confused, trembling, my mind a chaos of exhaustion, lust, and that **** hope for the grand plan.

“Sara… where’s Florian?” I whispered hoarsely, my voice rough from all the gagging. “I want to go to him. He needs to finally make me his wife now. For real. Not… not like this.”

And yet… I waited. For him. For the explanation. For the moment when he would finally, finally make me his wife—whatever that looked like now.

Then her face changed. The hesitation vanished. Her lips tightened.

“Fuck it,” she said coldly.

Without another word, she grabbed me by the shoulders, ripped open the straps, and dragged me out of the swing. I stumbled, naked, my knees weak as butter. The remains of my torn wedding dress hung only as rags around my waist. No dome anymore. No protection. Just me. Completely naked. My body glistened with cum, sweat, and my own juices. The vibrator had been left somewhere on the floor—but my cunt still felt full, swollen, hungry, pulsing.

Sara shoved me hard toward the door.

“Sara—wait!” I gasped, trying to hold on, but my hands were slippery with cum. “What… what are you doing?”

She yanked the door to the hallway open and gave me a hard shove in the back.

“Get out. Now.”

I practically flew out of the wedding suite. Barefoot, naked, I stumbled back into the grand hall. The music was still blaring. The lights were blinding me. The entire wedding party was still there—laughing, drinking, celebrating. Heads turned. Eyes widened. Cell phones were raised.

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Then laughter. Whistles. Applause.

I stood there, in the middle of the room, my legs slightly spread because my pussy was so sensitive and swollen that I could barely close it. Thick, sticky cum ran from the corner of my mouth, dripping onto my nipples. Fresh pussy juice ran openly down the inside of my left thigh, forming little puddles on the floor. My asshole twitched with every breath, my whole body trembled.

What the hell is going on here?

My heart was racing. I spun around in a panic, searching for Florian in the crowd. Where was he? Why wasn’t he here? Why had Sara just kicked me out—naked, filthy, like a cheap party whore who’d finished her shift?

“Florian!” I cried hoarsely, my voice breaking. “Florian, where are you?! I… I just want to be with you! Please… make me your wife… for real…”

Tears mixed with the cum on my cheeks. My pussy clenched again, another small, humiliating drop fell to the floor. The crowd laughed louder. Someone shouted, “The bride wants more!”

I stood there, naked, used, completely at their mercy—and didn’t understand a thing anymore. I just wanted to be with him. With my husband. With the man who had married me today. With the man who supposedly had a grand plan.