From The Chapel To The Kennel

Crystal, a slutty bride, is mistreated by husband and other men following her wedding, although she gets perversely mounted in a later installment of this tale.


Most of Crystal’s male guests were ogling her obscenely massive, yet firm udders bulging inside her bridal gown, while the females were admiring or feeling envious regarding her pretty face, round butt and trim figure as she glided up the church aisle toward the wedding altar.

But the focus for both groups would’ve shifted had they known about her slutty needs beginning to stain her soul as dark as her black hair when she was 17.

While Tom, her attractive, white, proudly sexist and 25-y/o groom’s thoughts were involved with the ceremony, though, he otherwise would’ve gleefully surprised the audience by telling them he intended to use her morally vagrant behavior against her throughout their marriage, since he correctly believed that Crystal was a set of mere holes designed to service cocks.

They’d been together for a year prior to the present Friday night in September, during which period there’d been numerous occasions when up to 20 men had gang-plowed the submissive 23-year-old’s coital ditches.

Strange as it might seem to uptight people, however, Tom relished having a promiscuous girlfriend who craved non-violent physical abuse, extremely vulgar talk and intense derogation, especially being she detested romance as nothing but a dick-socket.

And while standing before the altar, she actually took a vow of adultery rather than fidelity which had her cooze beginning to drool.

With the ceremony over, the recessional march swept the glowing bride and her husband down the aisle, after which they and their closest friends went to The Shamrock Lounge to celebrate.

Nonetheless, the wife sensed Tom wanting her to prove her waywardness later, and restricted herself to orange juice to maintain a clear head as he did.

Of course, some of her guy-friends wished she’d kiss their cocks instead of them pecking her on the cheek while they congratulated her before they departed the bar, everyone except Frank, Tom’s white, handsome and 21-y/o best man.

Next, the studs escorted her to Tom’s vehicle, whereupon he ordered, ‘Get in the back seat, tramp.’

‘Won’t you sit with me, sir?’ Crystal asked.

‘Nope. I’m demonstrating how I’ll fucking divorce you unless you do everything I want! Understand?’ Tom gruffly replied.

‘Yes, sir,’ – and she obeyed while Frank lowered her window.

Still, the tart wasn’t aware that 4 days previously, Tom had conferred with Vern and Rusty, white, good-looking and 22-y/o hunks.

They exercised at Tom’s gym, and he’d been delighted to hear their crude remarks about skimpily-clad women attending the establishment, with Tom approaching them to inquire if they’d like helping him debase his future wife.

‘That’s an interesting proposal. Is she hot?’ Vern said, followed by Tom accessing Crystal’s nude photo on his phone and showing it to his new acquaintances.

‘Wow, her boobs are amazing, though do you mind me calling her a bitch?’ Rusty grinned.

‘Hell, no! That’s what Crystal is, plus a lot more!’ Tom snorted.

‘Great. I hope she’s a sleazy harlot. So, when and where are going to do her?’ Vern questioned Tom who responded, ‘Around 12 at The Shamrock Lounge this Friday night – okay?’

‘Will she be wearing her wedding gown?’ Rusty asked.

‘Yeah.’

‘Right on. We’ll make a mess of her rags!’ Rusty chuckled.

Thus, in the lounge’s parking lot, Crystal had barely settled her fine crapper in the rear seat before Rusty and Vern suddenly appeared beside her window.

‘W-w-who… are… you?’ she stammered.

Vern gave her a scornful glare, reached through the window, tore her dress-top open, ripped her tit-sling off and sneered, ‘Do you always carry trash with you, bitch?’

‘Uhhh, yes, sir!’ she softly replied.

‘Dude, she carries her scrawny brains in those bags!’ Rusty snickered.

‘That’s right, you dumb harlot. You’re not worthy of these guys’ respect, are you?’ Tom growled across his shoulder from the front seat.

‘No, sir!’ Crystal humbly admitted.

‘Well, as a harlot, you’re disreputable – huh?’ Frank jeered.

‘Oh, god, yes, sir!’ the slattern moaned.

‘Oh, god, the skank positively adores this shit!’ Rusty spoke as though addressing a divinity, after which he raised Crystal’s gown, thrust his hand inside her panties, 2 fingers into her slurping muff and colorfully noted, ‘You little swamp-dweller!’

Having said that, he yanked his fingers from her snatch and observed, ‘The parking lot’s too public. Can we take her someplace else, Tom?’

‘Sure,’ the latter said, then commanded his wife to ‘climb on his car-trunk.’

‘What?’ she shrieked.

‘You heard me, slut!’ Tom barked,

Vern next lifted her onto the trunk and sweetly smiled, ‘Please, please be careful! There’s enough litter cluttering the streets!’

‘Yes, sir,’ the trollop moaned, with Rusty and Vern replacing her in the back seat.

However, Tom looked at his cohorts and mirthfully inquired, ‘I’m not transporting illegal contraband, am I?’

‘Yeah, you’d better hurry before the cops impound it, man!’ Vern said.

‘Impound junk? – or should I say she’s a fuck-junkie?’ Rusty chortled as stuck his head out the window and yelled, ‘Which are you? A worthless scrap of junk or a worthless fuck-junkie, cunt?’

‘Both, sir!’ Crystal bleated, with Tom then slowly driving to an alley in a deserted area near the city limits, where he assisted her to the ground.

Upon doing that, he bent her over a dumpster, slid her panties to her ankles and hinted at things to come by admonishing, ‘Go ahead; pound the dirty hound.’

‘You got it,’ Vern replied as he unzipped his jeans, exposed his thick 12-inched tool, chiseled it into Crystal’s anus and had scarcely started bulling her when she wailed, ‘Yes, yes! Rape me, oh, god, yes!’…

… though readers can well guess what happened next.