Chapter Fourteen - Wedding

Kathy stood up straight. The white satin gown clung to her, tight against the swell of her breasts, tight at the small circle of her waist, and tight over the flaring curve of her hips. Her dark hair contrasted with the half-veil that Stella was placing carefully on her head. She felt the heat between her legs. A moment ago her mouth was dry, but now she had to swallow the saliva that had suddenly begun to flow.

“Sweet Jesus!” Stella exclaimed, “you are truly a most beautiful woman.” She stood back and shook her head. It was a sincere expression of admiration. Kathy herself was astonished by the mirror image that seemed only vaguely familiar.

Stella opened the bathroom door. A strange Gregorian chant played softly through the loudspeakers. Except for a bright spotlight above the lectern, the room was in absolute darkness. Kathy could see an old priest and, standing before him wearing a white coat, stood Richie. Stella placed a small bouquet of orchids between Kathy’s trembling hands.

“Well, let’s go,” Stella whispered. Kathy’s legs wouldn’t move. She stood there shaking her head. Then she felt Stella’s hand tightly gripping her arm. Together they walked slowly toward the altar.

Kathy kept her head down, staring at the floor. She did not look at the guests. She and Stella stopped in the circle of light. She sensed Richie beside her. She could see his new black shoes and the black trousers that did not quite reach his thin ankles.

The priest cleared his throat with a phlegmy cough. Kathy raised her head and found herself looking into the pale blue eyes of her uncle. She dropped the bouquet she’d been holding. Her hands flew up to her mouth too late to suppress a startled cry. Her uncle did not seem to recognize her at first, but when she withdrew her hands he leaned over the lectern, peering down at her, a puzzled frown creasing his forehead. “They told me it would be you,” his voice was high and raspy, “but I wasn’t sure what they meant. Didn’t I marry you before, a long time ago?” The tears came immediately to her eyes. She nodded, unable to speak.

“G...g...get on with it,” Richie said angrily and kicked the base of the platform. He was as ugly as she remembered: his straight hair slicked back to the sides of his head, his twisted face flushed, the spittle hanging from the side of his mouth in a long white strand, his small mean eyes looking at her now with hatred and lust.

The music from the loudspeakers faded and stopped. As Stella released her arm, Kathy felt as if she might sink to the floor. The rise and fall of her breasts strained against the transparent netting. Her mouth had suddenly gone dry once more.

“Shame, Kathy, shame,” the old priest shook his head. She was a little girl again and he was here to bear witness to her sins.

“May we begin the wedding ceremony, Father?” The stern voice was Stein’s.

“Yes, yes, of course,” her uncle said. He placed his arthritic hands on either side of the lectern and looked out over the heads of the strange couple who stood before him. “We are gathered here in the name of the Lord to join these two young people in the Holy bands of matrimony...”

Kathy became aware of Richie’s hand searching for an opening in the back of her gown. Instinctively she pushed his arm away. She wanted to scream, but her uncle had asked her something and was waiting for an answer. “The ring,” he repeated impatiently.

“Here it is,” Stella said. Taking Kathy’s hand, she carefully placed something in the open palm. It was Kathy’s own wedding ring, the one Jeff had given her. Richie, with Stella’s help, had taken her left hand and was pushing a wide black iron band on her third finger.

“And now...” the old priest gestured to Kathy, pointing to the familiar gold ring she held.

“The ring,” Stella whispered, “give it to Richie.” Stella was holding Richie’s grimy hand up to her. Kathy stared at the thin fingers with their long, grease caked nails. Then she slid her ring onto the finger Stella held out to her. It fit perfectly.

“Do you, Richard Sconzo, take Katherine Ryan here to be thy lawful wedded wife?”

“Say, I do”, Stella whispered.

“I...I...I...do,” Richie mumbled.

“And do you Katherine Ryan take this man Richard Sconzo to thy lawful wedded husband to love, honor, and obey till death do you part?” She couldn’t answer. She couldn’t say the words. Thank God, she just could not go through with it. “Say I do,” her uncle ordered with unexpected authority. He glared down at her.

“I do,” she whispered.

“I didn’t hear,” the priest said.

“I do,” she repeated.

“And so, I pronounce you man and wife.”

Stella lifted Kathy’s veil and turned her to face Richie, gently shoving them together. Richie’s lips were wet with spittle. Closing her eyes, Kathy pressed her warm mouth against them. He quickly drew back, cursing, and spit on the floor.

“You will have to teach your new husband to tolerate your kisses and, perhaps, even enjoy them,” Stein said from the darkness behind her. “Richie,” he continued harshly, “do you want her?”

“In...in...in the ass,” Richie stammered.

“Then you must let her kiss you. She’s now your wife. She likes to kiss, don’t you, Mrs. Sconzo?”

Kathy turned her back to Richie. Gently Stella turned her around to face him. She looked at him for a long moment, then took his misshapen face between her hands. For the second time she pressed her lips to his, slowly pushing her tongue between them. Her tongue explored his mouth tasting the whisky and feeling the sharp edges of his broken teeth. Against her, she felt his cock stiffen.

“I told you she was a hot little bitch!” Vinnie shouted, rising out of his chair and moving toward her. The lights came up bathing the room in a soft amber glow.

“Not yet,” Stein said, waving his hand at Vinnie, “later.”

Kathy, her face scarlet, her hands visibly trembling, turned to face the guests. In addition to Stein and Vinnie there were only two others: a large florid man in his sixties and a tall, thin Japanese dressed in an expensive black suit. He wore thick eyeglasses. His bronze face was expressionless. He looked at her as if he were appraising a piece of sculpture.

“This is Mr. Satomi,” Stein said, “possibly one of the wealthiest men in the world.”

Kathy nodded, but the Japanese continued to study her without acknowledging the introduction. Everyone watched him, waiting. Even Richie sensed that something important was taking place. Kathy stared back at the Japanese for several moments, but under his steady gaze she lowered her lids and, finally, bowed her head. Stein smiled. The Japanese looked away from her. Everyone relaxed.

“Mr. Satomi is an acquaintance of your benefactor here,” Stein nodded toward the other man.

Kathy looked up. “I’m Henry Forbes,” the man said rising and crossing to her extending his hand. “I represented you in court. Congratulations.” He bent over to kiss her on the cheek. Stella had helped the old priest down from the lectern and was leading him to a chair.

“We had a hard time finding your uncle,” Stein explained. “He was in a mental home, but his credentials are all in order so you and young Richie here are as legally married as anyone can be.” The old priest sank wearily into a chair, shaking his head and muttering to himself. Stella poured him a shot of bourbon and held it to his lips.

“Uh...uh...uh...wh…when...” Richie began to stutter.

“Later, Richie, in due time,” Stein said. He turned to Kathy. “I see you are wearing my little gift.” He pointed at the collar. “And the others?” he questioned.

Kathy hesitated, then lifted the hem of her gown. “They aren’t too tight?”

“No,” she said.

“And just why, may I ask, are you wearing them?”

“You know why.”

“Yes, of course, I know. But our guests seem puzzled.”

“Because,” she looked at Forbes and the Japanese, “because Richie...Richie.”

“No...no,” Stein interrupted. “I must remind you, Mrs. Sconzo...”

She nodded her head. “I’m sorry. Because my new husband wants to...to...consummate the marriage here in front of you.” The Japanese stared at her impassively.

“That still doesn’t explain the bracelets,” Stein insisted.

Kathy looked at the floor then up at the guests, “My new husband prefers to...to...”

“Fu...fu...fuck her in...in...in...” Richie began.

“Let her say it!” Vinnie shouted.

She turned to speak directly to Mr. Satomi, “I’m wearing these bracelets because Richie prefers,” she stopped for a moment, then continued, “because Richie prefers anal intercourse. I can’t do that unless...unless I am restrained.”

“My God,” Forbes exclaimed, “why do you...”

She turned to him, “Because, Mr. Forbes, I hope to be a good wife and I want to please my husband.” She looked back at the Japanese and thought she saw a flicker of a smile cross his face.

Stella had gone over to the big table. “Come on,” she shouted, “there’s a cake to be cut and some drinking to be done.”

“That’s right,” Stein said, rising. “We must toast the health and good fortune of this happy couple.” He took Kathy by the arm and led her to the table. Richie, Vinnie, and Forbes followed. Mr. Satomi shifted in his chair so that he faced the gathering, but he remained seated refusing, with a wave of his hand, Stella’s offer of drinks.

Vinnie came up behind Kathy and put his arm around her waist. “You gonna treat your new daddy good, ain’t you, baby?” His huge hand moved up to cup her breast. Her nipple stiffened immediately. Richie was standing off to the side scowling at them. He quickly finished the drink he was holding and lurched across to Kathy.

“K...k...kiss,” he demanded.

Vinnie grabbed him roughly, “I’ll knock you on your goddamn...”

“It’s all right,” Kathy said, stepping between them. Richie grabbed her buttocks and pulled her roughly to him. His mouth pressed hard against hers. She tried to hold her lips together, but as his bony hands moved up the white satin to painfully squeeze her breasts, she opened her mouth. His fingernails dug into her swollen nipples. As if against her will, she found herself pressing her crotch against his hardening cock. Again, holding his face between her hands, she closed her eyes and slid her tongue between his wet lips. The kiss lasted a long time. She moaned softly.

Abruptly, he pushed her back. She fell against the table, trembling and flushed. She felt as if in that gross embrace something had come alive in her, that some grotesque thing had begun to form in her womb and she was powerless to do anything but nurture it. It was obvious to all of them that she had experienced some kind of dramatic conversion.

She leaned over the table, her head bowed, her eyes shut, supporting herself with both hands, trying to catch her breath, afraid she might faint. But all the while she was sharply aware of the intense burning between her legs and the hot stickiness that oozed from her vagina. She lifted her head and looked across the little space that separated her from Richie. She saw in his small, mean eyes that he also understood. Somewhere in the dim recesses of his brain it had become as clear to him as it was to her. She was his.

The transformation of all that she believed herself to be was instantaneous, complete, irreversible, and terrifying. She tried to turn away but felt compelled to continue looking at him. There was an exchange between them, an unspoken but clear understanding. She could read in his eyes the intuitive revelation that had also come to him in the same moment. His eyes said to her, “You are my woman.” She fought against it, but by lowering her eyes she acknowledged that he had won. She said to herself, “Yes, I am now your woman.” In less time than it takes to tell of it, she had given herself completely to this mindless creature, who was now her husband. She felt utter revulsion and absolute terror, but at the same time, a sexual passion that threatened to consume her.

He nodded his head. She knew that he had understood the message she had sent. She belonged to him. For the first time in his life something was his. He owned something. He could do whatever he wanted with it. He could make it tongue kiss him. He could make it get down on its knees and suck him. He could make it open its cunt for him. He could make it spread it’s ass cheeks for him. He could make it beg for his cock. It would do anything he wanted it to do. This woman...this Kathy was his now and they both knew it.

Stein chuckled, holding up his glass in a salute to Richie, but staring steadily at Kathy who continued to lean against the table for support. “Well, well,” he said, “to Mrs. Sconzo, the willing and subservient bride.”