Chapter 17

Still chuckling as she looked down on Elizabeth's senseless form, Sonia moved around the bed until she was stood at the same side where Andrew's wife lay. "You have a razor, yes?" she asked of her naked male companion.

"Of course," Andrew replied as he continued to study the blond whore's body that was being flaunted before him dressed only in a pair of silk briefs. "I'll get it," he went on pausing only to toss his wife's wig into one of the hotel suite's wardrobes. Returning from the bathroom a short time later, he sat on the bed before using his shaving brush that was already loaded with lather on her pussy fur that slowly vanished beneath some cream coloured soapy bubbles. Standing, Andrew handed his razor over to Sonia.

Taking over Andrew's spot on the bed and using one hand to part Elizabeth's thighs even wider, Sonia scraped the razor up through the lather cutting off a thin strip of the sleeping woman's hair. A few more furrows quickly followed and, apart from one slightly worrying moment when Elizabeth grunted and partly turned over, all went smoothly. Satisfied with her work, Sonia looked down at Elizabeth before transferring her gaze back to Andrew. "There. Now she is as hairless there as she is on her head!" Sonia chuckled in her thick accent.

Andrew studied the sight of his bride, her head as bald as her newly shaved cunt and he giggled too. "That'll teach her! I can hardly wait to see how she reacts to that!"

"It should be amusing, no?" Sonia agreed. "But she still needs punishing for falling asleep on you like that..."

"Technically, I was 'on' her and she was underneath, but I know what you mean," Andrew agreed. "But as you well know, I'm not really into caning women..."

"Or men either?" Sonia giggled.

"Definitely not men!" he agreed.

Starting to pick up her clothing and putting it back on piece by piece, Sonia kept on talking to the man for whom she had long term plans that would impact upon her own future greatly. "I am pleased about that. But punishment does not have to be like your father tried to teach you it was. You are on a plane for a long trip tomorrow, yes?"

"Indeed, off on my honeymoon to warmer climes..."

"Very well. I will tell you what to do then..."

With Sonia dressed and escorted back to the door of the suite where he bid her a fond farewell, Andrew returned to the lounge where he picked up the phone and dialled reception. "Hello?" he said after the call was answered. "This is suite 1507. Do you have anyone on duty from the maintenance department? I've a rather strange request to make..."

In the early hours of the morning, Elizabeth slowly started to come too in the still darkened room where the thick drapes kept the sunlight at bay. Even before she opened her eyes, the massive headache she would be suffering from for several hours had started to inflict itself upon her. Groaning, she clamped both hands to her head as she tried to recall just how she'd got into this state. The wedding ceremony was clear in her mind, the reception less so. She dimly recalled spreading her legs for Brian in the garden but things after that got very vague. There was a flash or two of the arrival at the hotel but that was about it as far as Elizabeth was concerned though Master Sam did put in an appearance at some point, ridiculous as that seemed to her now. She wasn't even sure if she and Andrew had had sex together or not. Then her stomach convulsed and, clamping a hand over her mouth, Elizabeth moved with surprising rapidity as she shot off the bed before weaving quickly towards the bathroom...

Laying on the bed, Andrew watched his wife's admittedly cute little arse retreating into the toilet and he smiled. 'Serves the bitch right!' he thought maliciously as the sound of violent wrenching reached his ears. This was followed by a pause, then Elizabeth groaned and a further spasm of vomiting erupted. Finally the toilet was flushed and silenced descended only to be disturbed by the tell-tale sound of someone pouring a glass of water and then swallowing some tablets. Elizabeth then staggered back into the bedroom, her eyes still half closed, as she groped her way back to the bed before clambering in and pulling the sheets up over her head.

Andrew extended a hand and pulled the bedclothes back down again before tossing then onto the floor. "Whayadoin?" Elizabeth demanded to know.

"I'm going to screw my wife on my wedding night, that's what I'm doing," he replied bluntly.

Struggling with the effects of her hangover, Elizabeth tried to think more clearly. "Didn't we do that last night?" she asked as her hands fumbled about trying to locate the now vanished bedclothes.

"No we didn't so now I'm going to claim what's rightfully mine!"

"Oh, come on, pet," Elizabeth protested. "I feel like shit and it's not as if we haven't done it before..."

"I don't care how you feel, I'm going to consummate this marriage whether you like it or not. And as for how you feel, you bald headed bitch, you should have thought about that last night before you got yourself totally rat-arsed and showed yourself up!"

"Bastard!" she hissed at her husband of less than twenty-four hours... and then recoiled as he slapped her face. It wasn't a hard slap, Andrew wasn't like that, but it served to issue notice to Elizabeth just how serious he was about this and who was the senior partner in this relationship. Elizabeth's own submissive personality took hold and, rather more meekly now, she lay back and parted her legs obediently while, with one hand, she felt her scalp to see if her wig really was missing... which, to her shame, it was...

Andrew lost no time in clambering up onto his wife and thrusting himself viciously into her. Beneath him Elizabeth grimaced and yelped but he didn't care. It didn't matter to him in the slightest that she was still dry and unprepared, and what did he care if her head was splitting and her stomach turning over? This was only about punishing her and so he mercilessly pummelled his body into hers as she groaned and squirmed. In and out he thrust, as he started to verbally insult her naming her a bitch, a drunkard, a trollop... and through the discomfort and humiliation, Elizabeth found herself being turned on by the new, more assertive Andrew. But before this could have much physical effect upon her, Andrew's old problem reasserted itself and he climaxed messily into her. Grinning, for he had enjoyed himself even if his drunkard of a wife hadn't, Andrew clambered off her before heading to the toilet, leaving Elizabeth to tidy herself up.

Andrew'd only just started to release his piss into the bowl when from the bedroom, his wife shrieked and demanded to know what had happened to her pubic hair. Shaking the last drops of urine from the end of his cock, he returned to the bedroom where Elizabeth was looking aghast at the shaved area between her legs. "I thought it would match your head," he told her bluntly.

Looking at him with shock, Elizabeth demanded of him, "You did this me?"

Andrew knew that he should lie but a little devil inside his skull raised its head over the parapet and give him a little nudge. "Naw, it wasn't me..."

For just a second, an expression of shock and horror was etched in his wife's face before she started to grin. "Yeah, right... So if it wasn't you, who was it then? The hotel hairdresser?"

"No, not at all. It was a cheap little whore who I hired in for the night when you proved yourself useless to me!"

Taken aback by the venom in the usually mild voice of her husband, Elizabeth half believed this for a moment before she realised just how stupid a story it was. "Very good, Andrew," she muttered. "You really had me going then. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off for a shower. If you see my wig, let me know will you..."