Black Cloud over the Second Wedding 
Ceremony
By Leta with mkarl



[m/F. ir, nc, preg]



      As Susan Scott stood in the church and looked into the
mirror of her dressing room, the thirty-six-year-old mother
of two couldn't help but be a mess of emotions. Staring back
was the reflection of a woman whose entire world had been
torn asunder, and yet who was now only moments away from
being scheduled to once again pledge her loyalty and
commitment to the man she had been soul-mated to these past
twenty years.

      A knock at the door broke her thought for but a
moment, `are you ready yet honey?'  It was Susan's mom,
Karen.  "NOT YET MOM."

	"You need any help, getting dressed?"

	"No, mom... I'm okay."

      Susan couldn't bare to face her mom.  There had been a
`hope'... after all Susan was already mid-life; and after
seventeen years of failing for that desired third child, a
girl could be forgiven for taking `it' for granted.  Michael
had done the `job' with both Tommy and Christine so maybe it
was her... Maybe she had gotten too old.  She had almost
convinced herself that she could win the gamble; but then
the rabbit had died... so to speak.

	Susan was going to have her third baby after all.

      "Okay, Susan, but if you need any help getting that
dress on, you know Christine and I would love to be with you
now.  You've waited twenty years to have this ceremony; so
you take your time... but I think Michael is going to be
getting nervous if you don't get this march started pretty
quick."

      Susan knew her mom was right.  It pained her that she
couldn't just open the door and let her mother and daughter
share what should have been one of the greatest days of her
life.  She felt like crying but the tears wouldn't come.

      The distressed damsel looked at the dress on its
hanger; so beautiful, all white and virginal and pure.
Susan had dreamed to wear that dress since she had been five
years old. Susan was certainly no virgin after twenty years
of marriage, but she wanted a white dress anyhow.  After all
she was still pure... technically... kind of...

      Truth was, Susan wouldn't really have been proper in a
white dress for her first turn at the walk down the aisle
either; not that there had been much of a much of a walk in
the office at city hall twenty years back.

      Susan had never really thought it was actually her
fault.  Sixteen year old girls really weren't quite ready to
realize what `that' much drinking and getting parked in
`daddy's' Town Car could lead to.  Not that Susan
necessarily blamed Michael either.  At the time it kind of
annoyed her that on her first pull of the 'trigger,' the
roulette wheel delivered a bullet; but boys were boys, and
Michael had wanted to take 'the gamble.'  At least, he had
done the honorable thing and put a ring on her finger..

      It really seemed  as nothing more than a dream that
didn't quite play right even after all this time.

      Susan sighed.  She would have to go through with it...
with `everything'.  There would be nearly nine more months
to try to come to 'terms' with this new reality,  before her
little problem 'did.'  Maybe it would all work out.  Michael
hadn't always been the `husband', and twenty years always
brought a few stresses to any 'foundation;' but one thing
that Susan knew was that her `love' was always the
`father'... yeah, Michael wouldn't take the new addition
well but somehow, Susan knew she could still play on all
'that...' in fact, 'that' was exactly what she was going to
have to play on now.

      While it might have been wicked to some, Susan was
going to be a mother again and that meant providing `that'
care-and-security, to one more child.  Tommy might already
be a young man himself, and Christine at seventeen, might
have still been at home but than Susan was already married
the first time around by her daughter's age... no, it was
her new seed that had to be her only concern now, her
current children could risk her losing Michael, but there
was no way she could fail her new breed.

      It was never suppose to happen; so how did it?  How
could Susan Scott be about to exchange wedding vows for the
second time in her life with her belly already beginning the
growth of a `bastard?'

      Susan reached up to take the dress from it's hanger.
"It really is so beautiful," the jeopardized bride breathed,
"and yet, 'this' was what did `it' to me... wasn't it?"

      The church wedding, friends and family, pomp and
circumstance... the music, the romance, and the white dress.
Girls plan it from the time they can take that first step
that will eventually carry them down that aisle to their
fairy-tale come true.  While a boy probably thought of
playing in the sports league, every girl Susan knew had
played at hours to have the perfect ceremony.  Even when a
careless testing of the rear shock support in daddy's sedan
suddenly put an urgency to matters; a dream so cherished was
never that easily discarded.

      When Michael had first broached the possibility of a
second ceremony... a real ceremony, Susan had been totally
speechless to reply.

      It was silly, wasn't it?  She was thirty-six years old
and the mother of two nearly grown children.  Surely it was
just nonsense to do something so frivolous.  The cost could
be better allotted to the children's education's or
Michael's and hers own approaching golden years.  She would
just feel so silly, but Michael had that look in his eyes
and Susan heard herself saying `yes' for 'the second time.'

      Even if it was somewhat silly, it had been so
wonderfully exciting to make the arrangements.  While mother
had not approved of Susan marrying Michael as a sixteen-
year-old, time had long since healed those wounds.
Christine was also helping plan every detail.  Susan never
enjoyed her daughter's or mother's company more then when
they planned the details.

      The picking of a dress was done that fateful Monday
afternoon... Valentines day.

      There really was nothing that Susan could have done to
suspect the jeopardy she was about to attract.  The bridal
shop had nothing in its name or outward appearance to ever
advertise the dark danger that lurked within.  Even if Susan
had known of the boy's employment, she never tried to give
in to her own prejudices and would not have made a scene in
front of her impressionable daughter anyhow.  It was just
being in the wrong place at the right time for the unlucky
beauty.

***

      The boy's name was Tyrone.  He was sixteen years of
age and was part of a community outreach program.  He had
began his 'record' back at age eight with his first collar
for shoplifting, and had been busy since.  As far as the
'nigger' was concerned, upon first getting assigned to this
lame ass bridal shop for his community outreach 'work-
experience,' it was all just about the weakest pile of crap
he had ever been stuck in. Luckily, Tyrone was one nigger
who was able to see opportunity even in the midst of all of
this mind-numbing benignity.

      Watching the cute little white girls come in with
their best friends and family, getting all giggly over the
upcoming prenupts may have been enough to give anyone the
idea.  For Tyrone it was simply overpowering.  The boy had
learned enough romance shit references over the years to
imagine that at least one of these white cunts might still
be a virgin 'saving' it for the wedding night. He had only
been in on three rapes before, but the problem with gang
things is that they were just so much about the fucking and
never really allowed the 'artistry' that appealed to a
nigger like Tyrone.

      The idea of sticking several of these new, 'white
brides' with a few of his own 'black bastards' really began
to appeal to the kid.  He would have to be careful though,
after all, now that he saw the possibilities in his new
place of employment, he didn't want to be the sloppy hunter
getting his furry black ass kicked out of this little field
of white, fluffy lambs until he had 'wolfed' down his fill.

      He had to be careful and make sure that bride number
one would be something special in case he managed to
'screw-up' the 'screw job' and get himself shuttled off to
the 'slam' for 'slamming' the bitch, but as much as he
wanted the first one to be a 'first' herself, this Susan
Scott was something too good for the nigger to pass up.

      So what if she wasn't cherry, just listening to the
women talk gave Tyrone all the inspiration that the nigger
needed.

***

      "Oh my goodness mom, these dresses are so gorgeous.
It makes me jealous that I'm not the one getting married,"
Christine bubbled to Susan.

      "You will be waiting until after college young lady.
I waited twenty years to be in this shop and sweetheart,
these dresses are so gorgeous that the wait was so worth
it."

      "We have to try on a lot of them honey.  I think we
should start with that Princess Diane model over on the
window," Karen piped in.

      The three woman giggled as they began the afternoon of
dress shopping.  Over the next three hours, Susan Scott
would slip her hot, sexy, thirty-six-year-old 36-25-35 body
in and out of one stunningly gorgeous bridal dress after the
other.  She, her seventeen-year-old daughter and
fifty-seven-year-old mother would slowly sip coolers and get
more and more rambunctious with their playful banter.  No
one would notice the black youth making sure to take the
opportunity to stay close to the woman as much as could be
possible under the circumstances.  Tyrone might not have
been actually able to get away with going into the dressing
room with the beautiful married bride that Valentine's day
afternoon, but he had gotten what he really needed anyhow to
make his decision.  Susan Scott would be taking a visit from
this nigger.  The decision was made official when he heard
the slightly buzzed girl-child ask her mother...

      "Did you ever think you might have liked another
child, mother?  Maybe a little sister for me?"

      "Well, yes, Christine.  Both your father and I did
want a larger family.  I guess maybe the way that I ended up
marrying your father in the first place wasn't good at all
and you really need to be more responsible than I was cause
I just got really lucky that 'it' didn't end up 'ruining' my
life, but I was very happy to have Tommy.  When you entered
my life, I considered it a real miracle because we had been
trying for three years.  The doctors had told us that with
your father, that pregnancy would be difficult.  I guess it
wasn't impossible though."

      Christine paused to digest her mother's words before
continuing, "Do you guys still try?  I mean you are only
thirty-seven now mom."

	"Christine.  That would be scandalous."

      "Lots of woman your age have children.  I mean I
wouldn't be able to really be best friends with a little
sister now, but do you still think you might have one?"

      "Oh my god, I can't believe we are talking about
babies.  I guess it is kind of ironic in a way cause the
last time I married your daddy I was pregnant but it just
isn't going to happen this time sweetheart.  The wedding is
three weeks away and if you must know, I will be fertile
this weekend when your father will be on his trip.  Who
knows what the future will bring as I have never used
protection, and after seventeen years, we just take it all
for granted, but it would take a miracle for me to get
pregnant before this wedding."

      'Shit, it won't take no miracle bitch, it  just take a
visit from a stud named Tyrone,' smiled the boy.  Lady was
going to be receiving her wedding present from this nigger
two weeks early.

***

      Tyrone had figured he would just take a peak at the
address for the dress delivery and then make the visit.
When he had been able to be at the shop when Jodi was going
to make the delivery, the nigger had asked for a ride.  Jodi
was fine enough that using the term 'ride' with her, had
sexual connotations for the boy but than he was a horny
enough fucker to get double meanings out of most words.

      The dress had been delivered to 127 Whyte Avenue.
Tyrone smiled at the name. Looked like 'white' neighborhood
was about to get a little darker.  He told Jodi that he just
remembered he needed to pick something up and asked to get
dropped off at the first market they passed.  Then, the
nigger made his way back to 127.

***

      Susan Scott had never seen anything so beautiful.  The
thirty-six-year-old mother of two stood naked in front of
the full length mirror in her bedroom holding her virginal
bridal dress up to admire.  It was amazing just how new, and
fresh, and pure this dress made her feel.  Even though she
had tried it on back at the shop, she couldn't wait now to
try it on in the privacy of her own home.  Christine
wouldn't be home from her job for until late and might just
stay over at her friends so Susan was going to be alone for
the night... at least that was what the woman thought as she
placed the dress upon her bed and began to get into her
underthings.

      Tyrone had the mask over his face as he skillfully
opened the back door to the Scott home.  There were no
alarms and no dog.  That was good.  The nigger had his hand
gun out.  He had toyed with the idea of getting one of the
boys with him to help things out, but the nigger really
wanted the satisfaction of knowing that it would be his
sperm seeding the bitch.  With the gun, he figured there
would be a good chance to keep her cooperative without
needing to beat the fuck out of her.  Ideally, he wanted to
do this simple so that the cunt never went to the police.
As Tyrone moved through the kitchen in his final 'hunt' he
knew that things would just be what they would be.

      Susan Scott had no idea that a nigger was climbing the
stairs in her home as she stood alone in her bedroom in
front of her full length mirror.  She had stepped into her
panties and thigh high-stockings.  A garter held the sheer
satin leggings in place.  She had her heels on and had just
strapped her brassier on to push-up her puppies.  It was
finally time to wear her dress that she had waited her
entire life to wear.

      Susan had just picked the dress up when she saw the
movement at the doorway. Before she could even think to
scream, the helpless woman was being sent sprawling onto her
own bed.  Her attacker was so swift and savage with the
initial attract that Susan was being held by the hair with
her face smothered into her pillows by the time the first
screams were uttered.

	"SHUT UP.  YOU SHUT THAT FUCKING MOUTH, BITCH!"

      Whoever this brutal bastard was, he was on top of
Susan and had her weighed down with his body.  She tried to
squirm loose but it was no use.  Susan was in shock, but she
already was beginning to know what this was to be about.  It
just was impossible... Susan couldn't be raped.

      "I TOLD YOU TO SHUT THAT FUCKING MOUTH, BITCH.  DON'T
YOU CRY.  NO ONE CARES.  NO ONE IS GOING TO SAVE YOU BITCH.
YOU WANT ME TO GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT?"

      Susan felt the smack across the back of her head.  It
wasn't gentle but it was only just with his open hand.  She
felt a second smack and than several more down across her
panty covered ass as this bastard intimidated her.  The
helpless woman felt so humiliated. Her face was smothered
down into her pillow so she knew her screams wouldn't get
out the open window down to the neighbors.  With the family
gone, Susan was all alone and totally vulnerable against
this assault, but the 'good' mom realized this was as much a
blessing as anything else.  The thought of poor Christine
also being at the mercy of this animal sickened Susan.

      "DON'T YOU SCREAM, BITCH.  I'll PUT A BULLET IN YOUR
BITCH MOUTH IF YOU FUCKING SCREAM."

      Susan felt the pressure on the back of her head as her
attacker started to force her over.  As her face was pulled
up from the pillow, she quickly had the barrel of a small
handgun placed between her lips.  The bastard was very
forceful with Susan to keep his control over her... and the
bastard was BLACK.

      Susan hadn't had a chance to realize the boys skin
color when he had jumped her. There was just no way she was
going to let a nigger filthy her.

      "YOU STUPID CUNT!"  Tyrone had barely managed to get
his hand clamped down over her mouth before the scream had
reached its peek.  With the bedroom window wide open, the
boy didn't want the risk of any of the neighbors being
alerted to the little party up here in the Scott's bedroom
before the fun was done.  Susan needed to be learned when a
nigger tells a white bitch to shut her fucking mouth, than
he meant for her to shut- her-fucking-mouth!

      Susan tried to recoil from the renewed series of hard
forceful slaps but with the back of her head already on her
bed, there was nowhere to turn to.  She felt the sharp sting
and knew this bastard had just blackened her eyes.  It just
filled her with despair that the slaps that blacked her face
were so obvious in their message that the rest of her body
would now be darkened too and there just wasn't a damn thing
the white bride could do about it.

      Tyrone had the end of the gun back in Susan's mouth as
he explained things to her a little more civilly.

      "I'm going to fuck you bitch.  Your husband won't be
home this weekend so if you don't want little Christine
getting some of what mommy is getting too, than you won't
try to scream again.  We are just going to get you all
dolled up in that dress you were about to try on and than me
and you will see about making that baby you been wanting."

      The words... oh god, this nigger was that boy at the
bridal shop!!!  Susan couldn't believe the betrayal.

      Knowing who the nigger was didn't help the unlucky
bitch at all.  Just two weeks removed from her twentieth
wedding anniversary and her second wedding ceremony, Susan
Scott was standing in front of a young, black bastard
obeying him as she would her rightful 'master.'

      Suddenly putting on the dress was the last thing the
distressed white bride wanted to do...

      "You look really nice in that dress bitch," the boy
smiled as he just lay on the bed and slowly squeezed his
long, hard black cock while observing as Susan had no choice
but to stand before the nigger and get into her 'innocent'
wedding dress.  "We are going to leave it on you while I
fuck you.  So bitch, do you feel ready.  Wonder if you are
ovulating.  I want you to tell me that you are."

      Susan saw the gun pointing at her.  She looked at the
open window and thought about screaming but there was no
guarantees that anyone would here her.

	"I'm ovulating for you.  I'm ovulating."

      The words sounded kind of stupid the way the bitch had
said them.  She wasn't crying at the moment, but Tyrone
could see that se was on the verge of tears.  The nigger was
enjoying himself, but he had been planning this rape for a
week now and he really wanted it to go right.  He needed her
to be vocal...

      "Say it with meaning, cunt.  Tell me you are fertile
and you want me to knock your white ass up with my potent
nigger sperm."

      Susan was horrified.  There was absolutely no doubt
that this black animal intended to breed her.  The more
horrific thing was that she was at the peak of her fertility
cycle.  Even if her own husband Michael had proven limp
enough to only fill her the twice in these past twenty
years, somehow, Susan knew that this nigger was going to do
it now on his very first try.  She wanted to scream so
much...

      "I'm fertile for you nigger.  You can breed me with
your black bastard in my white belly."

      Tyrone looked over at the open window.  "When I stick
my foot of prime man meat in that tight white snatch of
yours, you are going to scream in orgasm bitch... wouldn't
want the neighbors hearing until we are done here so why
don't you just walk that fine white ass over to that window
and shut it for me."

	Susan obeyed the rapist.

      "Now, what we want to do is make sure that you won't
be going to the damn police after this so we are going to
get us some pictures of the action.  That way if you get
yappy than at least I get the pleasure of making sure the
whole family gets copies of mommy taking her niggering
today.  Where do you keep the family video camera?"

      Susan was so humiliated.  This nigger was just so
totally arrogant about his 'right' to rape her like this was
all predetermined.  She just felt sick at how this was all
happening so easy.

      Susan had to lay on the bed as the boy set the camera
up on its mount.  

      "Okay, hopefully we will get some good shots of your
face being easily identifiable once I am fucking you, but
for now I want you to get the fuck over here to suck my
cock."

	Susan had no choice.

      As Tyrone held the gun in one hand and the camera in
the other, he fed her the lines to utter in-between gulps of
the nigger's black dick.

      "Yes, I love nigger cock... nigger cock tastes best...
I am a white trash, nigger loving slut."

      Tyrone was fully erect and ready to fuck.  To her
shame, Susan Scott was wet in her panties and ready to be
fucked too...

      "Yeah I do you'd like it you white-slut, what would
your poor husband think of his filthy, white-trash slut-wife
now if he could see you here with your new lover, huh you
fucking cunt?  Tell the camera what a fucking slut you are
for my big delicious chocolate cock.  I want this video to
fucking prove that all you white trash whores are fucking
horny for superior black dick and always dream of getting
blacked so that you fucking never go back."

      As Susan lived the nightmare of having this
outrageously foul-mouthed nigger own her body and soul, she
obeyed all of his commands... requests that were even
attempted to have resistance offered were still soon
satisfied with the application of an encouraging slap to the
face or a painful yank to the hair so in front of the
witnessing camera, Susan spoke all the words that the nigger
wanted to hear in-between gulps and slurps of his long,
thick black cock slip-fucked between her pretty, red lips
and deep into her wet, willing mouth.

      "If Michael was here now he would see how fucking wet
I am for your superior black cock.  I always wished I could
be a willing white slave to a sexy, gorgeous black stud god.
You are my master.  Please, I want you to fuck me.  I want
you to fuck my fertile, unprotected, white-trash, whore cunt
and knock me up with your potent superior black seed."

      The words may not have actually come out in such
coherent smooth-flow, but the video did prove that Susan
Scott uttered each and every syllable all the while as she
continued to orally pleasure her deviant, brutal black
rapist.  Finally, the boy had to get to the main event.

      "Ready to get your white belly filled with my nigger
seed bitch?  Guess your whole fucking life is about to be
ruined huh whore?  You seem like the type of bitch that
don't believe in getting rid of it."

      Susan moaned as the nigger picked her up off her knees
with a controlling hold of her hair. As humiliating as it
may have been to have a teenager leading her around by the
hair as if it was some sort of fucking leash for just a
common bitch, the hapless once- faithful wife and dutiful
mother of two would gladly have taken such an affront to her
dignity for the rest of her life if it would have spared her
the next fifteen minuets of being laid on her back in her
own marital bed while forced to spread her legs to
accommodate the finishing sexual assault of the young
nigger.

      All Susan could do as she got herself pound fucked
again-and-again underneath the unrelenting purposeable
attack of the evil minded black bastard, was to just take
it, and take it she did.  Her tear blurred eyes sought out
some minor form of relief as they fluttered around the room
she had shared with her dear husband all these past years.
As disgracefully humiliating as her own filthying from this
nigger would be to herself, she couldn't help but beg that
somehow her family might never need to know just what a slut
she was as her body suddenly started to betray her and she
orgasmed again and again for the nigger.  Susan had never
cum even once in all the years with Michael.

      "That's it you slut... yeah, cum all over my big,
black cock.   Go-ahead, don't try to fight it you whore, let
that camera capture how totally satisfied even the most
racist bitch like yourself will be conquered by a superior
black cock.  How does it make you feel knowing your family
is getting copies of this video if you ever go to the police
and they can all see that even if you ever try to say it was
rape, that you still came your fucking brains out while you
were with this nigger?"

      Susan was so fucked... both literally and
figuratively.  Of course, no wife or mother would ever be
able to risk her family seeing the true effects on her of
taking it nigger style.  From cumming all over that nigger's
cock while he finally finished in her to the after-sperming
'celebration' when the boy forced her to stay in bed with
her hips raised, contentedly running her hands over her
now-knocked-up-white-belly, while talking into the camera of
how 'sure' she was that she had conceived a special baby
that would now be her favorite forever; nothing that was
captured by that video camera could ever be risked shown to
her family... and that is why Susan Scott had never turned
the young nigger in.

*** It had not been the easiest couple of weeks since Susan
Scott had first gone black. Even having had spent a
nightmare of a night having been repeatedly raped in all
three of her tight holes by a brutal, sadistic, totally,
deviant young nigger stud had not altered the fact that the
woman had to get back to the grindstone and organize her own
renewed celebration of her marital relationship with her
good husband, Michael.  Obviously, much of the magical
enjoyment that should have surrounded such a wondrous
renewal of commitment vows with her soul-mate was now
permanently tainted with her own shaming experience.  It was
all Susan had been able to do to hold up and not allow her
own dishonoring from being seen by the family.

      Somehow though, Susan Scott had not allowed any of her
family to know what had been done to her as she had finally
managed to get back to where this has now all started, in
the dressing room at the church where her entire family
waited outside making the final arrangements to give her the
special bridal ceremony that she had always dreamed of.
Susan had to wait until now for her home pregnancy test to
have worked anyhow but seeing the pink dot as she was about
to have to go through making a fidelity promise once more to
Michael was simply devastating.  If only there was some way
to pretend that none of this had actually happened... some
way to make it all different, but there wasn't.  While Susan
had taken her home pregnancy test to pray beyond hope
whether she had somehow miraculously escaped ruination from
the potent baby-seed that had been filled into her fertile
cunt during that interracial rape two weeks earlier, she had
understandably continued to keep the dressing room door shut
to maintain her privacy from the rest of her family.
Obviously, neither her mother or daughter could have
understood what Susan was doing in that bridal dressing room
of that sanctimonious church as she took her home pregnancy
test while in the actual presence of the very nigger that
had been the one to put her to the challenge.  When the dot
had turned pink, the boy had just smiled and whispered into
his whiteslaves years that she was a lucky white whore to be
able to now walk down the aisle for her wedding ceremony
knowing she had a superior black bastard growing in her
belly.  She was going to be extra lucky now cause the boy
was going to finish again in her cunt so she could have
fresh nigger sperm running down her legs as she made the
march to that old tune of 'here cums the bride, all dressed
in white.'

      How true it would be for Susan Scott... as the Alanis
Moroiessette song exclaimed that it was 'ironic for it to
rain on your wedding day,' sometimes that 'black cloud over
the second wedding ceremony' didn't have to be a
'rain-cloud' type in order to bring its own share of irony
and fun-filled double entre to the festivities.

	
Anyhow, hopefully this story is okay.  It is such a hot
fantasy to us both that being able to write it has taken
three months as nothing we were doing ever seemed good
enough. While I would now love to be able to make those last
couple paragraphs a little smoother to dramatize and play up
that the slut-wife is now spending the rest of her life as a
sex- slave to the boy, I am afraid that any attempt to make
such alterations would likely have the effect of preventing
the posting of this story for another three months.  I
currently have six or seven stories that are only a page or
three from completion so hopefully I will be able to get
back to my once a week posting schedule for everyone who has
been wondering what is taking so long between stories.

As always, mkarl can be written at mkarl2000@hotmail.com and
warmly welcomes all correspondence.

Leta is available to receive whatever comments you might
want to share with her at willingwhiteslave@hotmail.com
	
May 29/2000
	
