A Mockery Of Tradition

Melissa and Charlie stand face to face, lips seconds from kissing, bridal gowns clinging to their skin. Melissa's optic-sweet circuits pulse under the lights. Charlie's red sole heels click. Their officiant never showed. Then Jason walks in with his black book and a stare that freezes the chapel air. The vows die in their throats when he tells them he won't marry two women. "Against my beliefs," he says, mouth curling. Heat flares under both veils. Charlie snaps first, lunging toward the altar like she wants blood. Melissa grabs her wrist and yanks her back. Their breaths hit each other's necks. Jason watches, pupils bright. Then he cuts a new deal. "My cock in both of you, right now on this altar, and I'll pronounce you married. Refuse and you walk out single." The chapel goes silent except for the low hum of Melissa's processors. Charlie's eyes go wide, furious. Melissa's fingers dig into her arm. She leans in, whispers, "One time. To get the paper. For us." Charlie shakes her head hard, but the words sink like stones. Seconds stretch. Her jaw clenches, her fingers twist the lace. She swallows and nods once, eyes wet with rage. Jason's already pushing the pulpit aside. He drops his pants and the cock he pulls out is thick, heavy, leaking at the tip. The brides stare. Melissa steps forward first, veil still pinned, and spits on her palm before wrapping it around him. Charlie drops to her knees beside her bride. She spits too, twice, slicking him while staring up with pure hatred. Her tongue drags along his shaft. Melissa follows, mouth open, throat relaxed, taking him until her nose presses his stomach. Jason fists both veils in one hand and fucks their mouths, alternating between them, pulling out only to slap his cock across cheeks still streaked with lipstick. When he hauls Melissa up and bends her over the altar, the fabric of her dress splits along the seam. He drives in raw and fast. She claws the wood, cervix punched on every stroke. Charlie climbs up beside her, spreads her own legs and rubs her clit while watching. Her fingers slip inside her own pussy, copying the rhythm. Jason yanks Charlie by the throat, forces her to watch up close while he rails her bride, then pulls out and stuffs himself into Charlie without warning. She snarls but rocks back harder, meeting every thrust until her thighs shake. He switches without ceremony. Both brides end up on their backs on the altar, heads hanging off the edge, throats open for his cock while their cunts grind against each other. Strings of spit and cunt juice smear across their bellies. Jason pushes them face-to-face, makes them kiss deep while he pounds whichever hole he wants. Their tongues slide together, angry, hungry. He unloads first down Charlie's throat, then pulls free and sprays the rest across both their open mouths and tits still half-covered by torn lace. Semen drips from their chins onto the bridal white. Jason tucks himself back in, pulls the signed papers from his pocket and tosses them on the altar between the two gasping brides. "Congratulations," he says. "You're legally fucked."