Days later, the final exam results arrived.
The front door burst open. He Hao strode in, eyes blazing with triumph. Eighth in his university class. In the sun-drenched living room, only his mother waited—the promised reward.
Qin Ya stood beside the tall French windows, bathed in pure afternoon gold. She wore the sacred white wedding dress she had kept locked away for years: strapless, custom-made, glittering with tiny rhinestones and pearls. The bodice lifted and squeezed her massive G-cup breasts into a breathtaking cleavage, snowy flesh spilling over the edge like cream. The long train pooled on the floor like a frozen wave of purity. White silk stockings encased her endless legs, held by delicate lace garters; matching six-inch white stilettos made her tower even more imposingly. Her makeup was flawless—bridal, innocent, radiant.
He Hao's breath stopped. His mother looked like a goddess descended for sacrifice.
"Mom… you're the most beautiful bride in the world," he whispered, voice thick with awe and hunger.
Qin Ya's cheeks flushed beneath the veil of shame and excitement. "Today, Mom is completely Hao Hao's bride."
He Hao stepped close, hands sliding reverently over the satin covering her waist. "Turn around. Hands on the window. Show me what's mine."
Trembling, Qin Ya obeyed. The heavy skirt rustled as she bent forward, palms pressing against the cool glass, ass pushing back until the pure white fabric stretched taut over her round buttocks. Sunlight poured through the window, outlining every curve in blinding white.
He Hao knelt and slowly lifted layer after layer of veil and skirt, revealing sheer white lace panties already soaked through at the crotch. The fabric had turned translucent; her swollen pink folds were clearly visible, glistening with arousal. He hooked his fingers under the waistband and peeled them down inch by inch, exposing her completely. A thick string of juice stretched between the lace and her cunt before breaking with a soft snap.
"Spread yourself for me, Mommy."
Cheeks burning crimson, Qin Ya reached back with both hands and parted her own ass cheeks, offering everything: dripping cunt, twitching anus, the tiny pink entrance already lubed and waiting.
From his pocket He Hao produced a string of twenty large pearls the size of cherries, glistening with lube. One by one, slowly, deliberately, he pressed them against her anus. Each pearl forced her ring to bloom open, then swallowed with a wet pop. Qin Ya's legs shook in her stilettos; muffled whimpers escaped her throat as the heavy weight settled deep in her bowels.
Next came the powerful oval vibrator. He parted her soaked folds, placed the buzzing toy directly against her swollen clit, and pushed. Her greedy cunt swallowed it whole in one slick slide until only the pink retrieval loop remained visible. He turned it to the third setting—high, punishing pulses. Qin Ya's knees buckled; her forehead thumped against the glass as the first orgasm threatened instantly.
He stood, pressed his clothed body against her back, and yanked the pearl string. The beads shifted inside her intestines, grinding against sensitive walls. At the same moment the vibrator thrashed against her cervix. Qin Ya's scream was half-sob, half-moan; her G-cup breasts heaved so violently two pearl buttons on the wedding-dress bodice popped open, baring even more snowy flesh.
He Hao's mouth found her neck and sucked hard, branding her pure skin with dark purple hickeys—one, two, three—ruining the bridal innocence. His hands slipped inside the gaping bodice, cupping her bare breasts, rolling the rock-hard nipples between fingers slick with her own juices.
Through layers of satin and lace he kneaded, pinched, twisted. The vibrator's muffled buzzing mixed with the wet shifting of pearls and the obscene squelch of her cunt trying to expel the toy that refused to leave. Clear fluid seeped steadily from under the dress, running in shining rivulets down white silk stockings, pooling inside her stilettos.
He spun her around, pressed her back to the window, and kissed her—brutal, devouring. His tongue invaded her mouth, claiming every corner while his fingers found the silver nipple rings he had prepared. One by one he forced them onto her bruised, erect nipples right through the wedding dress fabric, clamping until she sobbed into his mouth. Thin silver chains were clipped between them, meeting in the deep valley of her cleavage.
Flash after flash—He Hao took photos of his mother in her sacred wedding dress: veil askew, lips swollen, nipples clamped with lewd silver, eyes glazed with humiliation and lust.
Then he lifted her bodily—dress and all—and carried her to the bedroom.
On the pure-white bed he laid her down like a sacrificial bride. Bright red satin ribbons appeared from the nightstand. First her wrists: crossed behind her back, ribbon wound tight, tied into a perfect bow. Then her legs: knees bent, ankles lashed to thighs, then long ribbons pulled to opposite bedposts, hoisting her legs high and wide into a shameless M-shape. The wedding-dress skirt bunched uselessly at her waist; her soaked cunt and pearl-stuffed anus were completely exposed.
More ribbons wrapped her torso in intricate tortoise-shell bondage over the dress, squeezing her breasts until they bulged obscenely, nipples straining against cruel silver rings. Every breath tugged the chains; every tiny shift ground the pearls deeper inside her rectum.
He tore the white stockings to shreds with his bare hands, exposing miles of flawless leg. Then he knelt between her spread thighs and worshipped her feet—still in broken, soaked stilettos at first, then barefoot. He sucked each toe through torn silk, licked the delicate arches until she sobbed from the ticklish torment, bit the tender balls of her feet until red marks bloomed.
Only then did he free his aching cock.
He slapped her swollen clit with the heavy shaft—once, twice, ten times—until it stood out like a ripe berry. Then, without warning, he thrust into her cunt in one savage stroke.
The wedding dress rustled obscenely with every violent thrust. Pearls shifted inside her ass; vibrator still buzzed mercilessly against her frontal wall; nipple chains jingled with every impact. Her bound body could do nothing but take it—take her son's cock slamming again and again into the deepest part of her, battering her cervix, stretching her bridal cunt wide.
He leaned forward, mouth latching onto one clamped nipple, sucking hard, teeth scraping the tortured bud. At the same time he seized the pearl string and began pulling—slowly—one bead at a time. Each pearl stretching her anus open, popping free with a wet sound, sent shockwaves through her body. By the tenth pearl she was screaming, cunt convulsing, squirting violently around his pistoning cock.
When the twentieth and final pearl slipped free, Qin Ya shattered. Her back arched off the bed as much as the ribbons allowed; a guttural, animal scream tore from her throat. Her cunt clamped down like a fist, then exploded—clear fluid gushed in powerful jets, soaking He Hao's stomach, the pristine white dress, the sheets.
He Hao followed instantly. With a roar he forced past her spasming cervix and erupted directly into her womb—thick, burning ropes of semen flooding her until her belly felt heavy and full. Pulse after pulse, he emptied himself completely, grinding deep, making sure every drop stayed inside his bride.
When he finally pulled out, a flood of mixed fluids followed, staining the wedding dress irrevocably. Qin Ya lay ruined—dress torn and soaked, legs still spread and bound, nipples purple and clamped, face streaked with tears, saliva, and mascara. Semen leaked steadily from her gaping cunt; her anus winked open and closed, unable to close fully after the pearls.
He Hao gazed at her for a long, reverent moment—the pure bride utterly defiled—and whispered, "You really are my wife now, Mom."
Qin Ya, voice hoarse from screaming, could only manage a broken, loving smile. "Forever… Hao Hao's… only…"