My Big Deal Social Wedding By Wanderer Janice picks Frank to be her spouse-then what? This is adult material. Please do not read if you are under age 21 or laws in your country forbid you to do so. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is unintentional and purely coincidental. Earlier parts of this story may be found on the Wanderer bookshelf. They are "Who's In the Closet Now?" Parts 1, 2, and 3, "We're Back In the Closet Again," Parts 1 and 2, "The Engagement Party," Parts 1 to 5, "The Engagement Party-Epilogue," Parts 1 and 2, and "The Engagement Party- Epilogue Two," Part 1. There is no part 2 so don't look for it because this, "My Big Deal Social Wedding," is the continuation of the story. Copyright 2002 by Wanderer The wedding went off without a hitch. Oh, there were a few comical things when we look back at it, but Janice wasn't about to let anything go wrong. The wedding was held on the back lawn of the Witherington estate, with only about a thousand guests. The Witherington family wanted to keep it small and intimate. I'm standing there, on the wedding podium, dressed in the tuxedo Janice had picked out for me, listening to the hundred piece big city symphony orchestra specially flown in for this occasion, playing the Wedding March. Janice is coming down the aisle with a wedding gown train that had to be longer than the one Diana Spencer wore when she got married in St. Paul's Cathedral to Prince Charles in 1981. Diana's train was said to be twenty- five feet long, and Janice's was at least fifty feet. Her wedding gown was personally designed and fitted by a famous name designer. He designed all her clothes, her blouses and suits, and he knew how to minimize her shoulders and cover up her arms, and he knew just the right length to make her skirts so that when she was sitting down her powerful thighs wouldn't show through. He did a great job on her wedding dress. Janice was 5' 10" tall, so she was perfect to design for, except for her very broad shoulders, her very thick arms, and her powerful back. Other than that she was easy. Her legs were easy, the skirt was full length, and because the train was so heavy the back of the dress was substantially reinforced. The designer had no desire to have his reputation sullied by having the train come off because some errant guest stepped on it. The heavy train gave the designer an opportunity to cover up Jan's shoulders so as to minimize their width, and it worked splendidly. The high collar covered up her 17 1/2" neck. I mean I wear a 15" collar and it fits me loosely. And the puffy sleeves of the wedding dress covered her twenty-two inch biceps nicely. No one would ever suspect this was an amazon-in-hiding. The waist was snugged in nicely. Nipping in her waistline served to emphasize her bosom, not that it needed any enhancement. It stood out all by itself, no help really needed. So here comes Janice down the aisle on the arm of daddy, Mr. Witherington II, and this big oaf comes running up behind her, looking for his seat. People don't come late to a Witherington affair if they know what's good for them, but this is the social affair of the decade and he doesn't want to be left out. Sure enough he wants to jump over her bridal dress train and the big goofball slips, falling on the train. Now this guy is three hundred pounds if he's an ounce. A big gasp rolls through the guests, but Janice doesn't flinch. This is her day. I'm standing up there taking all this in. My trepidation about marrying Janice is being chased out of my head by images of the value of marrying into one of the richest families in the country. Ferraris, Rolls Royces, trips around the world by private jet-all of my pleasant daydreams are driven out of my head by this three hundred pound moron. Probably a very rich moron since the Witherington family doesn't associate with common riff- raff, but a moron nevertheless. Jan doesn't turn around, squares her shoulders, and doesn't miss a step. In addition to pulling this heavy train she is pulling this three hundred pound jerk. Now I know Janice has powerful legs, from all that horseback riding since she was practically a baby, and from having felt those monstrous thighs around my body when I first met Janice four years ago. But later Janice's brother tells me that Maddy, my sister, had been working on Janice's thighs. "Push, push," Maddy would yell at her. "Another squat, one more rep!" she'd yell. Jim tells me Janice, my lovely feminine bride, was squatting 650 pounds for reps. When she'd wrapped those thighs around me before they'd measured twenty-eight inches. I thought mine were pretty good at twenty-two inches, from all that soccer I played, and track I ran, but she dwarfed me. Still, at her height of 5' 10" they looked good on her, and when she was dressed up they never showed, unless she crossed her legs, which she didn't do much because she had difficulty getting one leg over the other. Only her twenty inch calves showed. But Jim isn't through telling me about what my sister Maddy's training has done for Jan's thighs. "Sit down, buddy. They're thirty-two inches now." Just the thought of having them wrapped around me is scary because when Janice is climaxing she practically has an out-of-body experience. But if you can squat 650 pounds then pulling a three hundred pound guy is no big deal. Luckily, because of the length of the train, her couturier had designed the fastenings of the train to the dress extra strong, figuring that the train might snag on a chair, so you could see Janice just square up her shoulders, and you could see her trapezius just take on that horseshoe shape, and she just keeps going. Well, the nut case finally rolls off Janice's wedding dress train and I can see her shoulders relax a bit as she continues down the aisle with her dad beside her. She doesn't miss a step, and her dad beside her never even knew anything had happened. Later Mr. Big Oaf was found down by the river that runs through the property, unconscious. When he was revived he mumbled something about slipping on a rock and hitting the back of his head, but nobody could figure out how, if he hit the back of his head, he got that big black eye and the dislocated jaw. Earlier I had seen Janice lead him down to the river-she had a grip on his elbow and he appeared to be wincing-but she came back up alone. Later on I noticed that a couple of Janice's knuckles seemed bruised. I guess you just don't do anything that might ruin a girl's wedding day. Janice gets up to the podium and takes her place beside me. I'm smiling at her and then I realize I'm looking up at her to do that. "What the hell?" I'm thinking, did she grow overnight? I'm six feet tall, and she's a couple inches shorter at 5' 10", and I have to look up to her? I mean, 99.9% of the time the bride looks up to the big handsome male at the wedding, and here I am staring up at a taller Janice, making me seem small, almost insignificant. Then I realize, instead of wearing flats to make me the taller of the two of us, Janice is wearing high heels so she can look down at me when we say our "I do's." I resolve to have a little talk with her after all this is over. Meanwhile the archbishop gets to the "I do" part. So he's saying the words, "Do you, Janice Samantha Witherington, take this man, Frank, to be your lawful wedded husband?" My demure blushing bride says, "I do." Then the archbishop turns to me, and says, "Do you, Frank Albert Thomas, take this woman, Janice, to be your lawful wedded wife?" I was about to say "I do" when the archbishop added, "To love, honor, and obey, until death shall ye part?" Now what the hell was that all about? The "obey" part wasn't in there for her, why for me? So I'm mulling this over in my mind when I feel my lovely bride reach over, gently take my hand in hers---and squeeze. I thought my finger bones would turn to powder, tears came to my eyes, I was in so much pain I couldn't even open my mouth to scream. My sweet bride turned to me and said, "Now repeat after me, honey, 'I promise to love, honor, and OBEY Janice Samantha Witherington forever, or until your death do us part.' Honey, start NOW!" I could hear the snickers from the wedding guests, some of whom had caught the difference in the vows. Painfully, I managed to gasp out my name and "---promise to love, honor--- ." I stopped at "obey" but the pressure on my delicate fingers became so great I screamed out "---yes, OBEY----OBEY, or my death will us part!" A Freudian slip. The giggles from the guests turned to loud laughs. Janice released my fingers and gently patted me on the shoulder. "There, there, Frank, it'll be all right." That didn't make me feel any better. Before God and one thousand wedding guests I had just promised to be a flunky, a servant, a toady, a kiss ass for my brand new bride to use as she saw fit. I knew I was going to pay for my hesitation to say yes later, maybe even this, our wedding night, and I'm starting to shake a little bit, but the champagne flowed freely and I was three sheets to the wind before I knew it. I'm toasting everybody and the caterer is buzzing about, acting maniacal, making all his staff extremely nervous. This is his biggest event ever-imagine, one thousand guests and no limits set on the cost-and he is being overwhelmed. He looks like he's going to have a heart attack any minute, or at least a nervous breakdown. He rushed into the mansion kitchen, bowling over two servants, each carrying out two trays loaded with caviar goodies, then he yells at them like it's their fault. Janice is within hearing distance, so she follows him into the kitchen. Curious to see how my new lovely and gentle and diplomatic bride handles a crisis I follow her. She's holding the caterer against the wall with one hand on his throat, and I notice his feet are dangling about a foot off the ground. With her other hand she's squeezing his testicles. His eyes are bugging out of his head, both from the pain from his testicles being crushed and because he can't breathe, either. So much for diplomacy. Janice is saying to him, in a very calm voice, "Now, Jacques, I advise you to relax a little bit, this is my day, not yours, so I suggest you calm down. I don't want to hurt you, unless I have to." Still the same old Janice. Mr. Jacques, never having been placed in such a perilous position before (a foot off the ground in a kitchen with his windpipe being shut down and his testicles being squashed-by a young woman) is shaking like a leaf. "Of---of- --course, Madame Janice, oh please, oh my God, please think of my wife and family, Madame Janice---." Janice sets him down, and carefully brushes a little lint off his tuxedo jacket, saying, "There, there, Jacques, I'm sure you will be a little more gracious from now on, won't you?" "Oh, yes, yes, oh thank you, thank you, Madame Janice," and this sycophant actually kneels down on one knee and begins kissing Jan's hand, like the lackey he is. I'm practically laughing out loud, and then I'm thinking "Hey, that may be me tomorrow doing the same thing, begging for Janice to forgive me over some slight indiscretion I wasn't even aware of committing." I stop laughing. A beaming Janice turns to see me standing there, observing, and she take my arm and together we walk out of the kitchen. "I think I have everything under control now, Frank, don't you agree?" she asks. I readily agree, I'm not looking for any arguments on my wedding day. Janice and I stayed through a good part of the wedding party, it being her day and she wasn't about to cut it short. I kept looking at her and thinking about our bedroom that night, with the champagne chilling by the bedside, and my boner is getting bigger and bigger and thicker and beginning to show through my pants. I haven't had sex for 2 1/2 months, and this is the big day, and I'm getting desperate. "Let's go," I whisper. "No, we stay," says Janice. "We go when I say we go!" O.K., I'm not about to create a scene. I don't want to end up like Mr. Big Oaf down by the river. "Yes, my precious dove," I say. "Bitch," I mutter under my breath. "What's that?" Janice says to me, sharply. "Itch," I say, "I have an itch from this tight collar, sweetheart," I lie. Janice eyed me suspiciously. "Well," she said, "see that you behave yourself. Your reward will come tonight. All night," she added as an afterthought. I knew she was going to rape me all night long, I had very little to say about it when your new bride has twenty-two inch arms and thirty-two inch thighs, but at this point I didn't care what she did to me, I was horny as hell. I just couldn't wait to get started. I might be found dead in the morning but in-between would be glorious. Everything went smoothly after that, and it came time for the new bride and groom to retire to their honeymoon cottage. The cottage was a forty room home built for us by the Witheringtons as a wedding gift, and modeled after their mansion, although ours was much smaller, and placed on fifty acres of the enormous Witherington estate, also deeded to us. I should add that the deed to the home and the acreage was in Janice's name only, and not mine, probably an oversight. I guess. As the family chauffeur drove us to our new home, only about five minutes from the Witherington mansion, my new bride was waxing philosophical. "Honey, I'm going to be one hell of an executive when I take over dad's company when he retires. Nobody better say 'No' to me or I'll see them down in the company gym. I just can't wait to get some of those old farts on the board of directors in there. I think half of them should be gone, anyway. They'll learn soon enough to take orders from a woman. Just like you will, my sweet," she added. I think your brother will have something to say about who heads the company," I said. "What? That wimp? Oh, I know he was a big athlete in college and he got all hot and bothered about bulking up for a year and then putting your little sister in her place after she threw him in you closet and locked him in there. I always could take him, even though I'm five years younger than he is, I just never let him know it because he was useful to me. If I got in trouble he would intervene with mom and dad to protect me, so I let him think he was my big protector brother, looking out for poor little sis. I could have flattened him anytime I felt like it." Now this statement scared me. Her brother Jim was my best friend and college roommate, I worked for his dad's company, and I was hoping he would become president, chairman, CEO and all that good stuff, and carry me along with him to the top. I didn't know how I felt about my wife being top dog as I was hoping to have some equality in our marriage, and if she was chief executive at work and could boss me around at the office then how could I expect her to walk in the door of our home and all of a sudden treat me differently, like the man of the house? I was mulling that over in my mind when we got to the elaborate arched portico of our new home. We got out of the limousine and waved goodbye to the chauffeur and as I turned to do the traditional honors, the carry-over- the-threshold, I found myself up in the air, being physically carried through the doorway by my slim, muscular wife, just as my sister had done with Janice's brother, Jim. Except my sister was an amazon, and my new bride just didn't give that impression. Of course, very few people had ever seen the size of her powerful arms or those monstrous thighs developed through years of horseback riding and throwing around those bales of hay, and now being tutored in weightlifting by my sister, the Amazon. "Hey, what are you doing?" I yelped. "That's my job!" "Oh?" Jan said. You think just because you're the big rugged handsome male and we exchanged wedding vows that I'm going to play the demure wifey-poo to you? Guess again, honey. I intend to make the decisions for us, I will order our lives, I will make travel decisions, I will select your wardrobe, I will arrange our social schedule---" "But wait---" I interjected, and I found myself approaching the ceiling. My wife, who was still holding me in her hands, after we crossed the threshold, had tossed me up in the air. I was terrorized as I dropped back towards the floor, fearful that the marble floor in our entry way was going to break some of my ribs. But my wife caught me in her brawny arms. "This is your last warning," she stated, "and only because we just got married, so I'm being generous. What did I tell you about starting a sentence to me with 'But' or 'I think.' I will do the thinking for us. The next time I will have to severely spank your behind. Or maybe I will have to give you time out in your room. Maybe I'll do both," she mused. "Anyway, this is your last warning!" she repeated. I was incredulous. You don't spank your husband. Oh, maybe you might give your wife a few gentle swats on her behind if she neglects her wifely duties, or swat your child's behind when they're little, but surely not your husband who is five years older than you. What was I to do? I wanted to protest, but Janice was adamant. From previous experience I knew she would tolerate no contrary opinions. I had already felt her anger when I had first visited the Witherington estate, but I felt marriage would bring more tolerance from her. Boy was I wrong! "Yes, dear," I mumbled. If I was going to pick a fight with my bride there would probably be a better time down the road. I didn't think our wedding night was appropriate, not when I was so eager to consummate the marriage, and not when she was holding me helpless in her muscular arms. But who should come running at us to welcome us to our new home but Alice, the maid who I had caught with Janice in a dalliance a few weeks ago. I knew some of the Witherington service staff was being transferred from the Witherington mansion to our humble forty room home, but I didn't realize Alice was to be one of them. "Oh, welcome, welcome, Ms. Janice," she gushed, "or shall I call you by your new married name, Mrs. Thomas now?" she giggled. "Of course not Alice," my bride replied. "Since we have been so close over the years you may continue to address me by my first name when we are in private. You may call me Jan, or Janice, or Mistress Janice, or Madame Janice, but during more formal occasions when there are guests present, you are to call me Mrs. Witherington, and my husband will be addressed as Mr. Thomas-Witherington, he will be taking my last name as his. I was shocked. This was unheard of. I risked Janice's wrath by saying, "But Janice, the wife always takes the husband's last name!" "Silly," she said. "That's such an old fashioned idea. It used to be the husband earned the money, he was the strongest, he was the dominant figure in the family, the wife stayed home, raised the children, did the cooking and the cleaning, and was practically a slave and an unknown. But my earnings will be four or five times your salary, and when I take over our company as CEO my income will be astronomical compared to your small pittance. The cooking and the cleaning will be done by our servant staff, you and I will give our children plenty of love, but their day to day care will be the responsibility of our staff. And there is no doubt that physically I am the strongest person in this household, is there, honey? I, your dear wife, will therefore be the dominant figure in this home, not the husband. No, my dear, times have changed. By all the criteria that you men are responsible for setting up, your name will henceforth be Franklin Albert Thomas-Witherington. That is how you will be introduced at our social functions, that is how you will introduce yourself, that name will be on your business cards, and that is how you will sign documents. Do you understand me?" Since my brawny wife was holding me helpless in her arms at the moment, and the maid, Alice, was taking all this in, I decided this was not the time to take exception to anything Janice said. And maybe she was right. After all, why does the wife take the husband's name? Nobody knew the Thomas name, everybody knew the Witherington name. If I walked into a famous restaurant without a reservation and said "I am Frank Thomas" I would be shown the door. If I walked in and said "I am Frank Thomas-Witherington" I would be seated immediately at the best table in the house. Anyone already sitting at that table would be quietly moved. If they objected they would be escorted out. Nevertheless my ego and my self-esteem had just suffered a severe blow. But Alice, the maid, taking all this in, was overcome with pride for her mistress. Impulsively she leaned over my body and gave Janice a kiss on the lips. Janice, still holding my 210 pounds without any sign of strain, kissed her back. Then Alice kissed my bride again, this time a little deeper, and Janice kissed her back, stronger. Pretty soon their tongues were vying for dominance, and I'm speechless, watching my bride, who I was so eager to get upstairs and into bed, start to make out with the maid. Now this is making me so hot I can't stand it. Since Alice was so close to me as Janice held me in her arms I needed to move my head only a little to kiss Alice on the cheek. I don't know why I picked Alice instead of Janice, I just did. But neither of them seemed to notice, so preoccupied were they with each other. So I kissed Alice again. Pretty soon I'm kissing her neck, nuzzling her ear, and, although my left hand is trapped against Jan's body, my right hand is pressing against Alice's body, in a very strategic position, and pretty soon in addition to the kissing and licking, I'm also caressing Alice's king-sized breast. I'm so stimulated that my erection is threatening to pop through my pants. Did I mention to you that I was well hung? Janice told me that was why she picked me. And all the while the two of them are at each other. Alice is leaning hard up against me, pressing me tightly into Jan's body, Jan is pushing hard against Alice's body, making me like a pancake between two gorgeous women and four humongous breasts. All this frantic sex between the three of us made me so hot and horny I came into my pants. My body convulsions as I orgasmed made the two of them stop and take notice of me. "Oh, honey," Jan said, "I didn't mean to leave you out, but I see you did participate," she giggled. "Well, as long as we started we might as well keep going," she declared. Saying that, my bride shifted her grip on me from a cradle carry to holding me on her right hip with her right hand along my side and under my thighs, and Janice did the same thing with Alice, putting her on her left hip. There my lovely bride stood, holding my two hundred ten pounds on her right side, and Alice's maybe one hundred fifty pounds or so on her left hip, our combined total around three hundred sixty pounds seemingly no problem at all for her. Then Jan carried the two of us over to the stairs and started up to our third floor master suite. Well, Alice is involved in kissing Jan's neck and licking her ear, and I, on the other side, am getting jealous, so I start doing the same thing. My left arm is wrapped around Jan's shoulder, and I can feel the expansion of the trapezius and the deltoids with the effort to carry our combined three hundred sixty pounds. But the effort doesn't show. Anybody who can squat six hundred fifty pounds is not going to be greatly discomfited carrying a mere three hundred sixty pounds up two flights of stairs. Poor Jan is being besieged on both sides, but I'm outraged. I'm the husband, and Alice is the maid. I knew something was up with Jan and Alice, I had walked in on them during our two month engagement period, when Jan had Alice on her lap and was fingering her private parts, but I thought that would stop when Jan and I married. I didn't want a threesome. On the other hand I thought a threesome would be just fine. From previous experience I knew Janice had an insatiable sexual appetite, so let her fuck with Alice, maybe it would give me a little rest sometimes. But then I wanted to fuck with Alice sometimes, too, but would my lovely bride let me do it? Janice carried the two of us up to the third floor and into the master bedroom suite. Finally! I had been waiting to get her here for two months now, and even though I had come in my pants just a few moments before I was eager to get started, maid or no maid. And Janice answered all my fondest wishes of the moment. "Take off your clothes, Frank---all your clothes," she ordered me. I was so eager to get going I started throwing my clothes all over the place. There goes my left shoe, there goes my right shoe, there go my pants---then I stopped. "Wait a minute," I say, "Alice is still here." "Alice stays," Jan says, "she is my personal maid, and we have a somewhat different relationship than the usual mistress/maid relationship. She does what I tell her, and without questioning me. Not like you," she added. "Well, I know, sweetheart," I said, "but don't you think we should just make this our night?" "It will be our night, Frank," Janice said, "but we may just include someone else in the festivities. Now take off your clothes before you make me mad!" The tone of her voice made me jump. I can tell when Janice doesn't want one of her decisions questioned, and this was one of those times. Soon I stood naked before Janice, every single stitch of clothing removed, my cock throbbing up and down. Janice was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me disrobe. But she was still wearing her wedding gown, minus the fifty foot train, of course, which she had detached after the ceremony. "You still have a marvelous pecker," my bride said, fingering it and taking in all its glory. "I'm so pleased. I think you'll do nicely as my consort, as long as you are obedient to my wishes and responsive to my needs." What about my needs, I thought. Here I am, five years older, a couple inches taller, maybe thirty pounds heavier, and this bitch ---er---new bride is laying down the rules. If my pecker wasn't standing at attention with long suppressed desire, aching to be relieved, I might have had it out right then and there with my bride, but first things first. At this moment sexual release was much more important than confrontation. Janice continued. "I have to tell you up front, hon, sometimes I will need a diversion, and Alice is that diversion. My goal is that you make me happy, but also I want to see to it that you are pleased with our arrangement, and I know that men have a wandering eye-always have, always will, and therefore when it pleases me to do so I will make my maid Alice available to you. And especially when I am away at school getting my M.B.A. I have already discussed this with Alice and she is agreeable. She thinks you're cute. But she is also to maintain my discipline here. She will be my right arm. I can't have you straying during the week while I am attending school, nor can I take a break during the middle of the week if discipline is called for. I know she is loyal and disease free, so she will be my surrogate while I am gone." This was a pretty shocking statement coming from my bride, but then I was grateful for her concern for my well being. "Oh, thank you, mistress---er--- Jan." I tried to sound casual, but the prospect of sex with Alice made my penis throb even more. Alice was beautiful, no doubt as beautiful as my wife in her own French way. Not as tall as Jan, only about 5' 6", but a delightful body, and a bosom perhaps even more enticing than Jan's- certainly larger, and from my having touched earlier it appeared to be just as firm. I could hardly wait for Jan to start back to school. Damn these long summer vacations! But with an effort I redirected my thoughts to the business at hand. I was feeling rather foolish standing buck naked in front of two fully clothed women. "Honey, you still have your bridal dress on. Don't you think Alice should help you to take it off?" I snickered. "My, how observant of you, Frank," my wife said, caustically. "However, I have a piece of business to attend to before we continue with the night's festivities. Come here, Frank," my bride ordered me. Obediently, I approached Janice who was still sitting on the edge of the bed. When I come within reach of her she grabbed my left arm and forcefully pulled me across her lap. I was astonished and immediately tried to get up, but she easily held me down with her left hand on the back of my head. I was staring at the hem of her bridle gown and at the floor. I struggled but it was futile. My mind flashed back to my first encounter with Janice when she had so thoroughly thrashed me. (See "The Engagement Party," parts 1 and 2, on the Wanderer bookshelf). She certainly wasn't getting any weaker over the years. I gave up struggling and lay docilely over her thighs. Apprehensively I wondered what was to happen next. I found out quickly enough. "Frank," my bride said, "you exhibited some reluctance to say 'I do' when it came time to do so during the wedding ceremony. Now, when I proposed to you two months ago that we join together in holy matrimony you showed no reluctance to do so. At that time you were free to turn down my proposal (Yeah, right, I'm thinking to myself, I wonder if I had told her to get lost if I'd still be alive today. Company lawyers could get her out of anything). When you accepted my generous offer you made a commitment to me. You did not have the freedom of hesitation when the archbishop asked you to say 'I do.' You embarrassed me today, Frank. You are never to embarrass me. Embarrassing me calls for punishment. I have to punish you now, Frank. I will be lenient with you because this is our wedding night, but I will be lenient with you only this once, Frank. Do not expect leniency from me. That is not in my nature. Your punishment will be commensurate with your indiscretion from here on." Having made this pronouncement my twenty-two year old bride struck my ass with her open palm with so much force that I actually bounced on her lap. You'd be surprised at the amount of force an open palm can exert when propelled by twenty-two inch biceps. I came down with a great deal of momentum and I could feel the cables of muscle of her thirty-two inch thighs on my soft middle and my tender penis. Again and again she struck me and I bounced up and down on her lap. Funny thing, but as my body went limp from the pain radiating through it my penis seemed to have a mind of its own and started getting harder and harder. Maybe I was some kind of masochist, or something. Janice was striking me with such force and the pain was so great tears began to pool on my eyelids and soon started rolling down my cheeks. Imagine, me a twenty-seven year old upper management executive of a Fortune 500 company being spanked by his twenty- two year old bride, and helpless to do anything about it. Talk about embarrassment. If this was leniency I would hate to experience what I could expect the next time I misbehaved. To my surprise, Alice came to my rescue as I uncontrollably began bawling like a baby. "Perhaps monsieur has learned his lesson," she offered. Janice stopped pounding my behind. "Of course," she said, "I guess I momentarily forgot myself. I did promise to be lenient, didn't I, you poor baby." And then she treated me like a baby. Remember, I'm six feet tall, and two hundred ten pounds, but she easily picked me off her lap as she continued to sit on the edge of the bed, turned me upright, and placed me back on her lap in a somewhat reclining position so that she could press my head into her firm left breast. Then she pulled her wedding dress off her muscular left shoulder and offered me her engorged left nipple, just like one might a crying baby. "Here," she said, "let mama make you feel better." Well, I wasn't about to turn down this generous offer. Despite the pain radiating through my body from my burning rear end I eagerly clamped on to her large and throbbing red-hot nipple. Evidently the physical dominance of a male body, and especially that of her brand new husband, such as she had just exhibited, turned her on. By now I was too damn horny to complain about a spanking from my young bride, I just latched on with my mouth and I sucked and sucked for all I was worth, while my bride stroked my hair and tried to dry my tears away. Alice helped her, applying a soft tissue to my wet cheeks. Gradually I stopped sobbing and while sucking on Jan's left nipple I began to stroke her right breast with my free hand. Well, I guess all this physical interaction stimulated her because she rose off the edge of the bed, and, holding me with her left hand under my butt so that I could continue sucking her nipple (I guess she was enjoying it), she pulled back the blankets with her free right hand and then deposited me gently onto the bed. "There, there, sweetheart," she said, "momma and Alice will be right back. Now don't you go anyplace while we're away, dear," she tittered. Go anyplace? I could hardly wait. I kept pushing down on my engorged penis and it kept springing up, tenting the blankets. And Alice, too? My God, this was going to be some memorable wedding night. And so it was. A few minutes later my lovely bride came out of the dressing room wearing a beautiful negligee, the folds of the front of the negligee opening with each step to reveal the sweep of her powerful cable engorged muscle packed thighs, and the fullness of her calves. Fear and desire all swept through my body at the same time. My eyes swept up to the fullness of her chest, the breasts that I had just suckled so contentedly needing no support, being held up so admirably by her deep and striated pecs, and the overwhelming broadness of her massive shoulders that had looked so feminine in her wedding gown just a few hours before. From the demure vision of loveliness she had appeared to be during the wedding ceremony she now looked like danger incarnate, her massive twenty-two inch biceps dimly showing through the diaphanous material of her negligee, but visible enough to be scary, and her monstrous thirty-two inch quads bunching up and showing through as the folds of the negligee parted in front with each step she took towards me. And Alice came right behind her, wearing one of those sexy teddies. Jan stood at the foot of the bed, looking very, very sexy and menacing at the same time. Alice helped her remove the negligee, slowly exposing one broad muscular shoulder, and then the other, and the negligee slipped down, and there were her powerful striated pecs, topped off with a couple beautifully shaped breasts, the protruding nipples just asking for attention. I could see Jan's solid six pack, the muscles deep and defined. And then Alice completely removed the negligee from my lovely bride, and I could see those thirty-two inch thighs that could squat six hundred fifty pounds. The quads were like cables. They didn't just lie under the skin, they seemed to stick up and out, away from the legs. The twenty inch calves were spectacular, and Jan did a slow bicep flex for me, probably to intimidate me a little. I was speechless with awe and desire and fear, having experienced the brutal and cruel side of her dual personality. "Your sister did a good job on me, didn't she, hon? Twenty-two inches, and your sister Maddy says she's going to get them bigger. She says I'm going to need them bigger if I'm going to discipline you properly," Jan giggled. In the meantime, as Jan flexed, Alice was rubbing her hands all over Jan's expansive biceps, massaging them. Stop it, Alice! I want to do that. My prick was aching with desire. I was about to come before even touching my beautiful bride. Well, my muscular twenty-two year old bride jumped into bed next to me, and was I ever ready. "Come join us, Alice," she said. What? On our wedding night? "Oui, Madame," says Alice. Now I've never seen Alice in anything but her little maid's uniform, and I always admired her legs and her ass, but here she is in this teddy and all of a sudden I'm getting a good look. My God, she's fabulous. If I hadn't just married Jan, and if it weren't for Jan's money, I would have proposed to Alice then and there. I think I would have loved having a nice quiet servant girl for a wife, someone who would take care of me, rather than a rich bitch. Problem was, "rich" kept coming up for me, then "bitch," but in the end "rich" won out in my thoughts. Oh, well, if I could have Alice sometimes, too, I could be a very happy man. But Alice was stunning. She was built like that proverbial outhouse, even better than Janice! No wonder Janice had been making out with her. And when she removed her teddy and stood there naked, she had muscles! "Alice," I said, foolishly, "you---you---have muscles!" "Oh, oui, Monsieur Witherington, when my mistress trains with your sister Maddy I help, I spot for them, and the muscles just grew," she giggled in that sweet French way of hers. "Well, I don't have much time to think about it because Jan is now on top of me, pinning me to the bed and inserting my penis. All I can do is grab onto Jan's muscular shoulders and get ready for the ride of my life. I come once. I come twice. Needless to say Jan is right there with me. Then she gets on the bottom and permits me to get on top. So I'm sucking on one of Jan's magnificent nipples when I realize Alice is sucking on the other, and Jan is moaning in ecstasy. I didn't think I needed any help from Alice, but knowing my wife's temper I'm not about to say anything. After about our fourth togetherness orgasm I'm pretty pooped. But Janice is hot to trot. "I want more!" she ordered. Now I'm getting scared because knowing her temper you'd better give Jan what she wants. I try real hard, but I've had it, and Jan is fingering me, but all to no avail, and I'm beginning to shake a bit as I can see Jan's big biceps begin to tense up a little, and her fingering of my penis is getting a little hostile. I realize I'm in trouble. But then Alice says, "Let me help, Madame," and Alice flips me over onto my back, easy as flipping a pancake, and takes my limp dick into her mouth. What a talented tongue! I think she's done this before. It takes her about twenty seconds and she flips me back on top of Jan and I'm ready to go again. "Thank you, Alice," says Jan. "Thank you, Alice," says Frank. "Eet ees nothing," says Alice, in her charming French accent. "Anytime." It's so nice to have a maid around the house.