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As soon as the zipper had reached its lower limit, the Priestess slid the wedding gown off Sharon's shoulders, and I watched mesmerized as it slowly fell to the floor.

Even though I'd seen her lovely body many times in the nude, this was the first time I'd seen her in that condition in public, and even more exciting than that, with no pubic hair.

I knew the others felt the same, for their exclamations of approval could be heard in the background. Sharon looked down at me, with a beatific smile on her face, saying, "Now I'll show you why I chose him for Best Man, honey.

In almost less time than it takes to tell, he was standing there just as naked as we were, and she was caressing his rapidly-hardening penis.

I hadn't noticed that two of the men in the audience were approaching us, carrying something between them, but when their movements drew my attention, I saw they were bring a small, padded table to the front of the church.

They sat it down behind Sharon, and when she placed her backside against one edge of the thing, then leaned backwards, I knew exactly what was about to happen.

As I had hoped, when her back was resting on the tabletop, she drew her legs up, then bent her knees above her body.

She placed her hands on her knees, then spread them to their widest extent while drawing them even further toward her head. The view that was presented to me, as well as to everyone else in the room, was beautiful beyond compare.

I've always believed that the sight of a sexually-aroused woman has no equal, and that's exactly what I saw then. Her nipples were erect, and I knew from long experience they would be super-sensitive when in that condition.

The glistening highlights of her treasure were further evidence of what she was feeling right then, and I knew that if I were only allowed to lick and suck her there, my reward would be a mouthful of her delicious juices.

The Best Man needed no further encouragement, and he quickly positioned himself between my wife's widespread legs. The Priestess took his rampant manhood in one hand, guiding it expertly to its rightful place.

As I watched the engorged head disappear between Sharon's pouting lips, I knew she was feeling a satisfaction that my little pee-pee could never give her.

There was no question that the Best Man had been chosen well. His cock appeared monstrous to my untutored eyes, and I couldn't stop myself from thinking that he was easily twice the size of my puny five inches.

I'm sure that's undoubtedly an exaggeration, but not by much. Even more than the disparity in length, though, was the fact that the distance across his huge cock was more than twice my inadequate one inch.

Sharon confirmed my opinion of her satisfaction by sighing deeply, then saying, "God, I love it when you fuck me.

In just a few seconds, her body began to rock back and forth, moving in the rhythms of aroused women since time immemorial.

Judging by my limited experience in pleasuring her, I knew she was just seconds away from reaching her reward, and that was confirmed when her breath began to come in gasps.

She looked down at me, kneeling there beside her, said, "I love you, honey," and then with a hiss I had always loved to hear, said, "Ohhhh! At last, the lovers were able to breathe again, and to the cheers and applause of the assembled onlookers, they kissed deeply.

The Best Man stood straight, then began to slowly withdraw his slightly-softer penis from my wife's vagina. With a soft sucking sound, the head at last fell free, although they were still joined by a rope of semen that seemed to stretch endlessly, before it too broke free of her body.

Sharon looked down at me once again, then said softly, "Honey, I need you now. My knees shuffled quickly, moving me to the position so recently vacated by her lover, and I knelt there transfixed by the sight I'd only dreamed about before.

Her pouting lips were still bright red, almost as if glowing from the heat of their coupling. Her clitoris was still more than a little erect, which signaled her continuing excitement.

Her vagina was still gaping open, almost as if inviting the man to once again invade it. But most of all, though, the single most exciting part of her body was the thick cum that was slowly oozing from where it had been deposited just seconds before.

I needed no second invitation from her to know what was expected of me, and almost as if it were beyond my ability to control it, my head bent forward and I began to do my duty.

From first lick to last swallow surely consumed an eternity's worth of time, for there seemed no end to what she was feeding me, and I still marvel at the quantity of their combined juices that she allowed me to lick and suck from her body.

That wonderful time did come to an end, of course, even as much as I hoped it never would, and when I felt the Priestess' hands pulling me back, I didn't resist.

However, when I was at last able to tear my eyes away from my bride's lovely body, I saw the other five men standing there, all as naked as the Best Man had been, and all with engorged cocks of their own.

I knew that the most-exciting night of my life had barely begun. The second man wasted no time in positioning himself between her thighs, and with the practiced assistance of the Priestess soon had his member buried to the hilt in Sharon's treasure.

What he had witnessed only minutes before must have had much the same effect on him as it did me, for he began to moan in the space of half a dozen strokes.

His orgasm was signaled, as with the best man, by his final thrust forward and a gasp for one final breath. I knew that my bride hadn't also climaxed, but that she was enjoying the stimulation anyway.

She acknowledged my existence then by reaching down with one hand and patting the top of my head, almost as if saying, "Good little doggie.

Instead, she said, "Give him a double load. Once again the Priestess guided another man's rampant manhood to my wife's pouting lips, and soon her third lover of the night was giving her the pleasure that is every woman's right.

As with the other two, his orgasm started with one final thrust, followed by his long, drawn-out groan. When he moved away from her crotch, Sharon silently told me what was expected by merely pointing to the oh-so-exciting place where she wanted me.

Almost before her hand could move back to her side, I was once again licking, sucking, and swallowing as if I were starving.

I guess that's probably a fairly accurate assessment of my condition right then, because I felt a craving so deep within my body that I was sure it would never be satisfied.

I've never been able to assert, from that first experience to the present, that the taste of another man's semen is anything resembling "good.

Sharon has forced me to swallow semen "straight from the tap," as she puts it, on many occasions, and it takes every ounce of my willpower to not draw away in disgust from the man's penis as it begins to spurt its slimy load into my mouth.

But just let the same disgusting stuff be placed in her treasure, and it instantly becomes nothing less than the food of the gods. I love it.

As soon as I had finished withdrawing my second snack from her vagina, my bride said, "Okay. I want the other three of you to fuck me just as fast as you can.

I've got lots of other things planned for him, and it's getting late. I don't know that I've ever loved her more than I did right then, but about ten minutes later, as she was feeding me her triple load of cum, had to be a close second.

I loved being cuckolded then, and still do now. Even though two years have passed since that night, I still get an extra-special thrill in my chest when I watch another man making love to her.

Sensing that I had once again done my duty to her, Sharon said, "Okay, honey. I think you got all there is.

Stand up now. The others resumed their seats in the chairs, then sat there silently, waiting for whatever was to come next. Sharon began to speak then, saying, "I think everyone here can see why I need other men to satisfy my needs.

The others laughed and nodded in confirmation of her assessment of my ability to give her pleasure, while I stood there in shame and humiliation, loving every second of it.

She turned to me and continued, "Honey, you've seen what I need in a man, and you surely know that you don't qualify.

It's because of your tiny size that I've decided you'll never have sex with me, or any other woman, for that matter. I know all my friends agree with me, too.

Damn right. Fucking 'A,' and other sounds of agreement were all that was needed to tell me their opinions. I knew they were right, for the evidence was right there in front of all of us, standing out from my crotch and bobbing up and down like a crazed metronome.

If Sharon had asked for my opinion, I would have agreed with her, but she didn't. She'd made her decision, as was her right as my wife, and that was that.

When the room once again was silent, she again looked directly at me and continued, "I've decided that since you're not a real man, anyhow, there's no reason for you to ever cum again.

And since it's my decision alone, then that's the way it'll be. I hope you really enjoyed your last orgasm, whenever you had it, because you're never again going to do that.

Not only would I never be allowed to make love to my wife, but I'd also been sentenced to a lifetime of frustrated arousal. As strange as it may seem to you, dear reader, that knowledge did nothing but make me even more excited.

Everyone in the room but me must have known what was about to happen, because not a word of instruction was given before two of the men stood and left through a door behind the altar.

When they returned, they were pulling a wheeled cart, and sitting on the cart was a large plastic tub that appeared to have water in it.

As they approached us, I could see there were dozens of ice cubes floating on the water, but that gave me no clue as to what was about to happen.

I had more than a clue, though, when the other four men approached me. Again with no direction, two of the men took my arms and pulled me over backwards.

The other two gripped my ankles, lifting my feet from the floor. Then, holding my wrists and ankles in their firm grips, those parts of my body were raised higher and higher, until I was held horizontally about four feet above the floor.

My body was rigid, which was not what Sharon wanted, for she said, "Honey, just relax. Let your butt fall. Soon my midsection slumped downward, and my body was in the shape of a "U.

That didn't help much, though, and when my overheated backside met the freezing water, I couldn't stop myself from crying out.

Sharon said severely, "Hush! We don't want to hear your fucking whining. Just shut up and try to act like a man for once.

The men continued to hold my ankles and wrists, dangling my crotch in the tub. Time seemed to crawl as Sharon expectantly watched my penis, but it couldn't have been much more than a couple of minutes before she said, "Okay.

The little thing's all soft now. Get him on the table. With no hesitation, the Priestess pinched the head of my dick between her thumb and forefinger, then stretched it as far above my crotch as she possibly could.

The poor little thing was completely soft, but was easily an inch longer than it had ever been when hard. The sickening part, though, was that its diameter was surely no greater than a drinking straw.

Again I knew that my inadequacy was on display for everyone there to see. I knew then that she had loved me enough to make the cock cage herself, for that's undoubtedly what the thing was.

You see, Sharon is not only an accomplished writer, she's also quite talented in the world of art. Specifically, she creates freeform sculptures using metal rods, mostly those made of brass.

I knew that she had secretly made the cage just for me, knowing it would be required on our wedding night. The cage was actually fabricated in two halves, as she demonstrated by hinging them apart along the vertical axis.

As I knew was about to happen, she placed the two halves around my member, then closed them. A tiny catch was then engaged to hold the two halves together, and it was secured forever by an equally-small padlock.

That left only some way to keep the thing from falling to the floor when I stood, but she had obviously thought of that, also. As I lay there on the table, my arm and legs held widespread by the four men, Sharon cupped my frozen balls in one hand while holding the cock cage in position with the other.

At that same moment, the other women gathered around me, some kissing me and breathing in my ears, while others caressed my body. The most exciting part of all, though, came when two of them began to pinch and pull my useless nipples.

I've always thought those parts were more sensitive than even the head of my penis, and that fact was demonstrated almost immediately by the thrill I began to feel in my crotch.

I knew then that nothing would be required to fasten the cage to my dick; it would provide that part all by itself as it came erect. I watched in fascination as the stretched shaft of my little dick began to swell as the blood rushed into it.

The pinching fingers of the Priestess kept the head from following suit, and soon the shaft was almost twice as large as the glans. I felt, as well as saw, my engorging penis come into contact with the cock cage.

Then, an even more exciting view was presented as the flesh continued to grow until it actually began to protrude through the openings in the thing.

In just a few more seconds, my little dick looked more like a waffle than a penis. Seeing that my member was firmly trapped by the cock cage, the Priestess released her grip on the head, and I watched it spring back slightly.

The most exciting part of the whole process began then, as the head, along with the small part of the shaft that was not inside the cage, began to swell to what would have been their normal dimensions when I was hard.

Soon there was what looked to be a red golf ball riding atop the imprisoning thing Sharon had made for me, and everyone knew it would remain that way until she chose to release me.

As my bride stepped back from the table, so did her friends and the Priestess. She said to me, "Get up now, honey. It's time for us to go home.

I just can't wait another minute to do all those things I've been planning for you. The moment I had regained my feet, she took my arm in hers and began to escort me up the aisle, in the opposite direction we'd walked that eternity of time before.

Her friends were applauding us, and shouting words of encouragement to her to, "Give it to him, Sharon," "Teach him what it means to be a man," and, "Remember all the things you promised to do to him.

The room grew quiet once more, and she said, "I've been training him for a couple of months now. You'll never know how proud I am of how quickly he's learning to be a human toilet.

It took me six months to get Jim to drink even one mouthful, and almost a year before he'd swallow everything I had for him.

Again Sharon waited until the noise subsided, then said, "You don't understand how very special he is. I've never known a man to progress as quickly as he did, and that makes me very proud of him.

That was the last thing she said to them, and we once again hurried up the aisle, then entered the foyer. Our clothes were draped across chairs there, and we wasted no time in getting dressed, and hurrying to her car, sure that neither of us could endure the fifteen minutes the drive would require.

The drive home was made mostly in silence, and I'm sure my bride was just as lost in thought as was I. Just as I was thinking of all my fantasies, hoping they'd be made real during the hours to come, so she was undoubtedly reviewing her plans for me.

The only words we exchanged came when she asked if I had liked her friends, and I responded with a wholehearted, "Yes! Slaves aren't allowed to have sex with other women, and some not even with their wives, like you.

Those men were all members of the church who are used for stud service. We're always on the lookout for men with big cocks, and never lose the opportunity to recruit them.

By the way, if you ever come across a man who has a big dick, you must tell me so I can check him out.

We always need new blood in the church. As I pulled into the garage, Sharon was already unbuckling her safety belt before the car had come to a complete stop.

By the time I could press the button to close the overhead door, she was standing outside the vehicle, waiting impatiently for me.

She literally dragged me through the door, then brought me to a stop right inside it. She said sternly, "You're never to pass this point unless you're naked.

Take off your clothes now and hang them neatly in the closet. Place your shoes on the floor of the closet, in the exact center.

If I ever see your stuff looking messy, I'll punish you. All I needed to do, though, was to see her flushed face and rigid nipples poking through her blouse to know that kind of treatment was already in store for me, regardless of what I did or didn't do.

As soon as my clothes had been placed neatly in the closet, she once again gripped my hand in hers. We almost ran up the hallway, both eager to get on with what she'd promised to do to me.

The third door from the garage had always been locked during the months I'd lived in Sharon's house, and I'd never had the nerve to ask her what was behind it.

I knew right then that my questions were to be answered, because she brought us to a halt at that point.

After taking a key from her pocket, she unlocked the door, then said, "I want to show you something, honey. We're going to be spending lots of time down here, so you'd better get used to it.

In the glare of the lamp, I saw a stairway leading down, and for the first time ever, realized there was a basement beneath her house.

I'd never before known there was such a thing on the property, and the understanding that she'd been hiding it from me until it was needed did nothing but add to the excitement I was already feeling.

We hurriedly descended the steps, then stopped at the bottom, seemingly in nothing more than a small storage room that was about 12' on each side.

There were shelves along two of the sides, and they were filled with everyday, mundane items. The third side had a large table, and it was covered with boxes that were filled with soil, with what looked to be mushrooms growing in it.

I knew only disappointment then, for in my fevered imagination we had been descending to the torture chamber that she'd prepared for me, and where we'd spend many happy hours.

All I could do was stand there, wondering just what it was she intended, but too timid to ask any questions. She left me in confusion for several seconds, then said, "Do you know what those mushrooms are?

Ever heard of those? That part worried me more than a little, for I definitely didn't want my wife to be involved in anything like that.

I nodded in answer, and then when she glared at my lack of respect for her, said softly, "Yes, Mistress. Once they see these mushrooms, they'll be so distracted by that evidence of law-breaking, they'll stop looking for anything else.

That means they won't find this. It was such an ordinary thing to see in a storage room that I simply couldn't fathom her purpose.

However, understanding exploded in my brain when she moved some of the clothes to the side, then did something with her hands that I couldn't see.

I heard the click of a catch releasing, and then part of the wall hinged away from us. I knew then that the small room in which we were standing was not all there was to the basement; the darkened space behind the secret door must hold whatever it was that she intended for me, and the mystery and anticipation made my crotch throb with such a renewed intensity that I thought maybe it would simply explode as more and more blood tried to force its way into my constricted penis.

Sharon reached inside the opening, and must have clicked a light switch, for the hidden area was immediately illuminated.

She made her way through the new doorway, then turned to me while saying, "Get your ass in here, you worthless little wimp! She had to push me aside in order to reach back through the opening to rearrange the clothes so they would conceal the hidden door, and then to close it behind us.

As it clicked into place once again, she stood beside me with one arm over my shoulders, and joined me in looking at all the toys there.

Her impatience would not permit such a delay for long, and she again took my hand and pulled me with her down the six steps between us and the floor level of the torture chamber.

I had never before seen a basement with such a high ceiling, surely at least ten feet from the blood-red carpet to the glaring-white ceiling. The reason for the extra height became obvious when my eyes alighted on something in the center of the room, and its placement told me in no uncertain terms that it was not only the center, but also the focus of the chamber.

What I saw was a short length of wood, probably four inches square and four feet long, dangling horizontally at shoulder height. There were wide leather cuffs attached to each end of the beam, and an eyebolt had been fastened to its center.

Attached to the eyebolt was a steel cable, which ran to a pulley directly above it in the ceiling, and from there over to another pulley close to the wall.

The cable completed its path by then going straight down to an electric winch mounted on the wall. As my brain at last understood what my eyes were telling it, I knew that an important part of my most extreme fantasies was there before me.

Sharon husky voice broke through my reverie, and I turned to look at the most-wonderful person in the whole world: my bride, who would surely, in the space of just a few moments, have me suspended in front of her and be doing to me all those things I'd only dreamed of before.

She was saying, "Isn't it beautiful, honey? Do you like it? I love it, Mistress! The floor drain directly under where I would be hanging gave me a feeling of supremely-exciting dread, as I thought of its purpose.

I had eyes for nothing else in the entire room, and felt nothing but disappointment when she said, "I want to show you everything.

I've been planning and building my torture chamber ever since I bought this house five years ago. I just knew that someday I'd find you, and I wanted to have everything ready so we wouldn't have to wait even a single day.

The panel held nearly every item of bondage, discipline, and torture that I had read about and imagined for more than ten years, and especially during the past six months, while Sharon was riding my tongue.

She lovingly explained the use of each thing there, and I responded when she required it, until she picked up the final item in the display.

She held the thing up for my examination, then said, "This is something I've wanted to use on a man for as long as I can remember, but I never could find one who I was sure wanted it as much as you do.

I guess that part wouldn't really matter, though, would it? Now that you're my property, I'll do whatever I want.

I guess I'd never thought such a thing would be used on me, and now that I knew it would be, I felt more than a little fear. You see, what she had was called a "strap-on dildo," and I'm sure I don't need to explain it's use.

Suffice it to say that when Sharon donned the thing, I would soon feel sensations I'd never before had. To be honest, I have to admit I was feeling just as much excitement as fear right then, although that part was undoubtedly due to the extreme state of arousal I'd been in for hours without end by that time.

When the time came that she actually deflowered me with her strap-on, several weeks later, that level of excitement wasn't present.

Even given that, though, it was still much more pleasant than when she told one of her lovers, a few days after that, to "give him the real thing now.

After allowing me to stare at the thing for several seconds, giving me time to imagine my stretched body secured there, and subjected to all the wonderful things she would then do to me, Sharon said, "There's one more thing for you to see, honey.

The torture device that was sitting on the floor in the corner was such a simple thing, but so very, very exciting to me. I had looked at pictures of that very device on the Internet many times, always imagining what it would be like if a woman were to introduce me to its use.

I was in such a state of suspended animation right then that it took me several seconds for my fevered brain to understand that Sharon was speaking to me.

She was saying, "Do you know what that is honey? In reality, it was nothing more than a small oak chair, resembling an oversize child's potty chair.

What made it different, though, and so much, much more exciting was the network of leather straps dangling below the opening in the seat, which I knew would be used to secure my head in position.

The two cuffs affixed to each of the front legs would be used to hold my wrists there, preventing any possibility of escape. Finally I was able to gasp out, "Yes, Mistress!

It's a bondage toilet! There was no question that she was just as excited, just as aroused, just as filled with lust as I was as we both imagined me being held there, and her sitting on the throne taking her relief.

My poor little penis tried its best to stand up, but even though the blood tried to fill it, as it'd always been able to do before, the cock cage wouldn't permit it.

The best the tiny thing could do was move away from my crotch for a few degrees, then hang there bobbing in frustration. After the longest kiss I'd ever had came to an end, Sharon was just as breathless as I.

She struggled to regain control of her voice, then said, "I've had that here, waiting for us, ever since you moved in.

Our aims are to bring about a Global gynocracy facilitating female-led marriages Worldwide, and to foster Femdom harmony, good health and World peace through human toiletry.

There are two forms of Cybele marriage - the 'vanilla' one for those who prefer loving female-led relationships, and the FemDom one in which the wife is uncaring and feels little or nothing for her husband.

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