Cuckold graduation ceremony for white bois...

PalePigBoy

Male
Gold Member
Fiction story where white bois devote their devotion to their wives and bulls in front of other cucks, wives and bulls.
A group of naked white bois with freshly shaven balls are lead on a stage and kneel facing an audience of finely dressed white wives and Black bulls. The master of ceremony begins by calling out a name of a white woman who walks up to the stage and sits on a throne. She is asked who is the real owner of her pussy to which she answers and the bull is called up on stage and sits on the adjoining throne.
The master of ceremony asks the cuck to crawl forward and kiss the feet of the couple and present the chastity device to the wife. She fits the device to her husband to signify that he must never have sex with her and proceeds to take off her panties as a symbol that her pussy must always be free and available to the Black bull, the audience then claps and cheers. The white boi puts on his wife’s panties and all 3 sign a cuckold contract before returning to the audience where the white boi assumes the position of a foot stool for his wife and bull while they watch the next couple.
 
Fiction story where white bois devote their devotion to their wives and bulls in front of other cucks, wives and bulls.
A group of naked white bois with freshly shaven balls are lead on a stage and kneel facing an audience of finely dressed white wives and Black bulls. The master of ceremony begins by calling out a name of a white woman who walks up to the stage and sits on a throne. She is asked who is the real owner of her pussy to which she answers and the bull is called up on stage and sits on the adjoining throne.
The master of ceremony asks the cuck to crawl forward and kiss the feet of the couple and present the chastity device to the wife. She fits the device to her husband to signify that he must never have sex with her and proceeds to take off her panties as a symbol that her pussy must always be free and available to the Black bull, the audience then claps and cheers. The white boi puts on his wife’s panties and all 3 sign a cuckold contract before returning to the audience where the white boi assumes the position of a foot stool for his wife and bull while they watch the next couple.
I love it sign me up for that!!!
 
it is the first bit where I have to kneel naked and shaven in front of all those people, who will all know what I am.

Yes, it is exciting for the world to know who and what we are isn't it? That is part of the reason we are here, to proclaim ourselves as proud cuckolds!
 
I suppose all us white bois want to make women happy the best way we can by accepting our new role and not to feel shame any more.
 
  • Like
Reactions: wit
Yes, once an alpha male has claimed a woman us cucks must show respect to the bull and the female. Loosing our manhood is not easy but it's better to accept it and move on.
 
It looked like a tuxedo party to me; nearly all the men in the room were in white or black tuxedo except Olu Shango and myself. There were lot of white couples there with their wives, everybody sipping wine, conversing, laughing … looking here and there. Soft music played above our heads.

We were in a large ballroom; the furniture was arranged in a sort of wide circle formation with a set of long chairs aligned head to toe in the centre like a long ‘I’. Nobody sat on the long chairs. I looked around and couldn’t find Olu anywhere though I saw Anya and Heidi mingling with the crowd, laughing and talking as if they were familiar with the people here. I notice there were some white men walking about serving drinks on trays. They were naked except for the pair of loin clothes they wore that covered their crotch region; neither seemed to care as to their nakedness. One of them stopped in front of me and asked if I cared for some Champagne. He offered me a glass of bubbly before moving along past me. I watched him go, cringing with revulsion at the sight of his loin cloth barely covering his ass cheeks. So repulsed was I wondered if this was some gay enclave I’d allowed Olu to bring me to. If it were then how come the white women?

I wandered amongst the crowd, said hello to several before finding myself a couch and sat on it with my ******* still in my hand. I turned to my left and there was an older man seated there sipping wine off his glass. He looked to be in his forties. We exchanged handshake and I found out he was an American.

“Tim SImmons,” he introduced himself.

“Michael Paymer. This is some strange party,” I said, making conversation.

He smiled. “Don’t get down about it. The fun part hasn’t even begun.”

We kept talking. One of the naked white men servants came and filled our glass before heading over to do the same to some group of women who stood chatting with each other. Tim pointed out his wife, Monica, to me, standing across the room chatting and laughing with some other white woman.

“What’s the deal with the naked white men,” I said to Tim. “Is this some crazy party or something?”

“You don’t know about this party?”

I shook my head. “Some black guy, Olu Shango was the one who brought me here along with two other women.”

The man looked at me with amazement. “You came here with Shango, is that what you just said?” he turned his head all round the room looking for whom I’d just mentioned. “He’s not here. He’s probably upstairs getting ready,” he said.

I was confused now. “Getting ready for what? What did you say was going to happen afterwards?”

“Excuse me.”

He drained his glass and got up leaving me still confused over whatever was about to happen. He went over to where his wife was and whispered into her ear. Her features appeared delighted with whatever he’d told her and she too shared it with her friends as he left her and went to a gathering of other white men and talked to them. Someone came and sat next to me. It was Heidi.

“Having a good time?” she asked.

“Having a swell time. What’re you doing here?”

“What does it look like? I’m waiting for the party to begin. It should happen anytime from now. The boys ought to be coming out soon.”

“What boys?”

“I’m still mad at what you did to me,” she said.

I thought she was joking. “You’re mad at me after I’ve seen you sucking Olu’s cock in the limo we rode it?”

“Don’t take that personal. Anya and I don’t fuck white bois. Not since we hooked up with Master Shango.”

“What? What did you just call him?”

“He’s our Black Master,” she looked at me as if I was dumb. In a way I was.

“What does that mean ‘he’s your Black Master’? What is he, some karate black-belt sex freak body-builder or something? And if you say you don’t fuck white guys, then what were we doing in bathroom then?”

“I wanted to suck your cock,” she declared. “What did we think we were doing besides that. I’ll see you when the party’s over.”

She got up and left me sitting there looking and feeling like the world’s biggest fool. I finished my *******.

I noticed the white men were now leaving the room. I saw some kiss their wives before trooping out; the black men in the room remained as they were till it was just them and the white women and they were nearly all in equal number. Sometime later the lights in the room dimmed. The soft music that had earlier been playing died away and a drum roll sounded like something about to reveal itself on a stage. I got up from where I sat as several of the naked white men came and started pushing aside the furniture, leaving just the long line of chairs in the centre of the room. One of them set a podium stand in front of the long chairs. Myself and everybody else stood further away from the centre of the room. A black man in a priest’s cloth holding a Bible approached the podium. The lights became bright once again and I saw it was Olu Shango himself. A church hymn began to play—the familiar church tune announcing that a wedding about to take place. I was still craving for answers at whatever was about to happened when a double door at the other side of the room opened and a marriage procession strolled into the ballroom.

A white man, probably in his fifties or late-forties with grey hair and naked except for the similar loin cloth he was wearing escorted a white woman—his *******?—into the room; she wore a white wedding dress. A trail of five bridesmaids followed them, holding flower bouquets. The bridesmaids all wore similar bras, panties and nylon stocks and garter belts and high heels. Behind the bridesmaids came a trail of white men—the same white men who’d earlier being in the room—all dressed in loin cloth attire. It had the atmosphere of some strange gothic wedding.

The white men stopped and watched as the procession went on towards the podium. From another doorway the other side of the room a white man, dressed in similar outfit, walked into the room followed behind by a group of black men, and came and stopped at the other side of the podium. The white women all seemed to moan from the sight of the near naked black men. Their skin glistened with some oily sheen; they wore Speedos with noticeable bulges in the middle.

The older man let go of his *******’s arm and handed her to the younger white man who just entered the room and he then went to join the gathered naked white men at the back of the precession to watch. My eyes went back and forth at everybody in the room and I wondered if everyone in there was insane or getting close to it. What sort of debauchery was this?

Olu Shango, the man dressed in the priest clothing, began to officiate; the hymn music died to a low murmur.

“Ladies and gents,” he spoke out loud. “White married sluts and married white bois as well. We’re gathered here to witness the marriage and submission of Wendy Parkes from Rhode Island, to Donald Murray from Chicago. Anyone who don’t think this event should take place, speak right now and get out or shut the fuck up forever.”

Nobody in the room said anything.

“Good. Now, would the ring bearers step forward.”

One of the bridesmaids and one of the black men from the groom’s section came forward and handed a pair of ring to the groom and bride. The room was quiet you could hear a pin drop. Shango officiated on the couple saying their marriage vows. It was something I’d never heard before ever in my life.

The Groom: “I swear and promise on my honour and life to love and cherish you with all my heart. To submit to you. To be your unswerving sissy white boi. To perform whatever cuck hubby duties you demand of me and never deny your need and desires to your Black Master. Also to uphold whatever demands that’s required to keep you and him happy and together.”

He slipped his ring into her finger.

The Bride: “I swear and promise on my honour and life to love and cherish you with all my heart and soul. To dominate you in whichever means I’m meant to. To keep you in line in faith and duty to whatever demands and desires my Black Master wants of me, and make sure we remain submissive and devoted to his love together.”

She slipped her ring into his finger; behind me I heard one of the women behind me exhale like she was watching a heartfelt scene in a soap-opera drama. I saw one or two of the bridesmaids holding a handkerchief to their eyes. It was crazy.

“By the power vested me in,” Olu Shango’s voice boomed out. “I now pronounce two man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Loud cheers, hurrahs and hand-claps went off in the room as the newly wedded couple shared a brief kiss. Two of the white men servants came forward and lifted the podium away. Olu Shango took off his priestly robe and threw it aside; he stood naked underneath wearing Speedos too. The bulge in his crotch apparent.

“And now, as your Black Master concerned, you’re both going to fulfil your matrimonial duties to me. On your knees, both of you.”

The groom and bride did as he ordered them to and knelt before him. The bride cast her bouquet over her head; one of her bridesmaids caught it. Olu seemed to be enjoying himself. I couldn’t believe I was in that room at that place, at such moment in time watching what was about to happen.
image.jpg image.jpg
 
It looked like a tuxedo party to me; nearly all the men in the room were in white or black tuxedo except Olu Shango and myself. There were lot of white couples there with their wives, everybody sipping wine, conversing, laughing … looking here and there. Soft music played above our heads.

We were in a large ballroom; the furniture was arranged in a sort of wide circle formation with a set of long chairs aligned head to toe in the centre like a long ‘I’. Nobody sat on the long chairs. I looked around and couldn’t find Olu anywhere though I saw Anya and Heidi mingling with the crowd, laughing and talking as if they were familiar with the people here. I notice there were some white men walking about serving drinks on trays. They were naked except for the pair of loin clothes they wore that covered their crotch region; neither seemed to care as to their nakedness. One of them stopped in front of me and asked if I cared for some Champagne. He offered me a glass of bubbly before moving along past me. I watched him go, cringing with revulsion at the sight of his loin cloth barely covering his ass cheeks. So repulsed was I wondered if this was some gay enclave I’d allowed Olu to bring me to. If it were then how come the white women?

I wandered amongst the crowd, said hello to several before finding myself a couch and sat on it with my ******* still in my hand. I turned to my left and there was an older man seated there sipping wine off his glass. He looked to be in his forties. We exchanged handshake and I found out he was an American.

“Tim SImmons,” he introduced himself.

“Michael Paymer. This is some strange party,” I said, making conversation.

He smiled. “Don’t get down about it. The fun part hasn’t even begun.”

We kept talking. One of the naked white men servants came and filled our glass before heading over to do the same to some group of women who stood chatting with each other. Tim pointed out his wife, Monica, to me, standing across the room chatting and laughing with some other white woman.

“What’s the deal with the naked white men,” I said to Tim. “Is this some crazy party or something?”

“You don’t know about this party?”

I shook my head. “Some black guy, Olu Shango was the one who brought me here along with two other women.”

The man looked at me with amazement. “You came here with Shango, is that what you just said?” he turned his head all round the room looking for whom I’d just mentioned. “He’s not here. He’s probably upstairs getting ready,” he said.

I was confused now. “Getting ready for what? What did you say was going to happen afterwards?”

“Excuse me.”

He drained his glass and got up leaving me still confused over whatever was about to happen. He went over to where his wife was and whispered into her ear. Her features appeared delighted with whatever he’d told her and she too shared it with her friends as he left her and went to a gathering of other white men and talked to them. Someone came and sat next to me. It was Heidi.

“Having a good time?” she asked.

“Having a swell time. What’re you doing here?”

“What does it look like? I’m waiting for the party to begin. It should happen anytime from now. The boys ought to be coming out soon.”

“What boys?”

“I’m still mad at what you did to me,” she said.

I thought she was joking. “You’re mad at me after I’ve seen you sucking Olu’s cock in the limo we rode it?”

“Don’t take that personal. Anya and I don’t fuck white bois. Not since we hooked up with Master Shango.”

“What? What did you just call him?”

“He’s our Black Master,” she looked at me as if I was dumb. In a way I was.

“What does that mean ‘he’s your Black Master’? What is he, some karate black-belt sex freak body-builder or something? And if you say you don’t fuck white guys, then what were we doing in bathroom then?”

“I wanted to suck your cock,” she declared. “What did we think we were doing besides that. I’ll see you when the party’s over.”

She got up and left me sitting there looking and feeling like the world’s biggest fool. I finished my *******.

I noticed the white men were now leaving the room. I saw some kiss their wives before trooping out; the black men in the room remained as they were till it was just them and the white women and they were nearly all in equal number. Sometime later the lights in the room dimmed. The soft music that had earlier been playing died away and a drum roll sounded like something about to reveal itself on a stage. I got up from where I sat as several of the naked white men came and started pushing aside the furniture, leaving just the long line of chairs in the centre of the room. One of them set a podium stand in front of the long chairs. Myself and everybody else stood further away from the centre of the room. A black man in a priest’s cloth holding a Bible approached the podium. The lights became bright once again and I saw it was Olu Shango himself. A church hymn began to play—the familiar church tune announcing that a wedding about to take place. I was still craving for answers at whatever was about to happened when a double door at the other side of the room opened and a marriage procession strolled into the ballroom.

A white man, probably in his fifties or late-forties with grey hair and naked except for the similar loin cloth he was wearing escorted a white woman—his *******?—into the room; she wore a white wedding dress. A trail of five bridesmaids followed them, holding flower bouquets. The bridesmaids all wore similar bras, panties and nylon stocks and garter belts and high heels. Behind the bridesmaids came a trail of white men—the same white men who’d earlier being in the room—all dressed in loin cloth attire. It had the atmosphere of some strange gothic wedding.

The white men stopped and watched as the procession went on towards the podium. From another doorway the other side of the room a white man, dressed in similar outfit, walked into the room followed behind by a group of black men, and came and stopped at the other side of the podium. The white women all seemed to moan from the sight of the near naked black men. Their skin glistened with some oily sheen; they wore Speedos with noticeable bulges in the middle.

The older man let go of his *******’s arm and handed her to the younger white man who just entered the room and he then went to join the gathered naked white men at the back of the precession to watch. My eyes went back and forth at everybody in the room and I wondered if everyone in there was insane or getting close to it. What sort of debauchery was this?

Olu Shango, the man dressed in the priest clothing, began to officiate; the hymn music died to a low murmur.

“Ladies and gents,” he spoke out loud. “White married sluts and married white bois as well. We’re gathered here to witness the marriage and submission of Wendy Parkes from Rhode Island, to Donald Murray from Chicago. Anyone who don’t think this event should take place, speak right now and get out or shut the fuck up forever.”

Nobody in the room said anything.

“Good. Now, would the ring bearers step forward.”

One of the bridesmaids and one of the black men from the groom’s section came forward and handed a pair of ring to the groom and bride. The room was quiet you could hear a pin drop. Shango officiated on the couple saying their marriage vows. It was something I’d never heard before ever in my life.

The Groom: “I swear and promise on my honour and life to love and cherish you with all my heart. To submit to you. To be your unswerving sissy white boi. To perform whatever cuck hubby duties you demand of me and never deny your need and desires to your Black Master. Also to uphold whatever demands that’s required to keep you and him happy and together.”

He slipped his ring into her finger.

The Bride: “I swear and promise on my honour and life to love and cherish you with all my heart and soul. To dominate you in whichever means I’m meant to. To keep you in line in faith and duty to whatever demands and desires my Black Master wants of me, and make sure we remain submissive and devoted to his love together.”

She slipped her ring into his finger; behind me I heard one of the women behind me exhale like she was watching a heartfelt scene in a soap-opera drama. I saw one or two of the bridesmaids holding a handkerchief to their eyes. It was crazy.

“By the power vested me in,” Olu Shango’s voice boomed out. “I now pronounce two man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Loud cheers, hurrahs and hand-claps went off in the room as the newly wedded couple shared a brief kiss. Two of the white men servants came forward and lifted the podium away. Olu Shango took off his priestly robe and threw it aside; he stood naked underneath wearing Speedos too. The bulge in his crotch apparent.

“And now, as your Black Master concerned, you’re both going to fulfil your matrimonial duties to me. On your knees, both of you.”

The groom and bride did as he ordered them to and knelt before him. The bride cast her bouquet over her head; one of her bridesmaids caught it. Olu seemed to be enjoying himself. I couldn’t believe I was in that room at that place, at such moment in time watching what was about to happen.
View attachment 214150 View attachment 214150
That's one sexy wedding. Especially loved how Dad walked his skanitly clad ******* down the isle to become a hot wife and black owned. Love to see the reception and honeymoon.
 
Back
Top