Nerves

"You're nervous," my new husband said, slipping his arm around my waist.

A flood of emotions washed over me, thinking of the vows I just made to love, honor, and obey my husband in all things."

"It's fine," he said, "you're fine, don't worry, it was a dream wedding."

"Funny," I said, "growing up, when I thought about my wedding, I didn't exactly dream I'd be the bride."

"I imagine not, but you shouldn't let that spoil the day...or the night. How does it fit? I trust your mom measured well.

I turned, looked at him. "I...I didn't think it would be this small," I said, still processing the mental image of the small, pink chastity cage his mother locked on me earlier in the afternoon, replacing the larger cage I'd worn since he proposed. 

"It's kind of the point," he said, "that's behind you now." His eyes were drawn downward to my chest; he'd yet to see my breasts since I'd had implants and completed the hormone schedule. He moved, in doing so the back of my hand lightly brushed the front of his tuxedo and I was instantly aware of the contrast.

"You'll come to enjoy it," he said.

"So they say," I said, maintaining the lie that I wasn't attracted to him when the reality was I tingled every time he looked at me. I knew it was a byproduct of the day dressed like I was, just as it was a byproduct of a year in chastity. On her wedding day, every sissy has the same butterflies, my mother told me, but on her wedding night, she's just like any other bride.

He moved his hand to the small of my back, I felt his hand on my bare flesh and my skin tingled. "Trust me," he said, "you're going to enjoy it." 

That's why I was nervous, the fear I'd enjoy it. The truth was, after a year caged, after a year without orgasm, I was effectively aroused darn near 24/7 and over the past month, as the wedding got closer, thoughts about my wedding night dominated my waking moments.