This is a fiction story based on REAL events in Scotland. I suggest you start from part one.

Blackening the Bride - Part 5 The solicitor again
Thank goodness that my messy ordeal was over. I knew that the blackenings had got more intense since I'd first been blacked over fifteen years ago before my first wedding, but nothing had prepared me for the amount and variety of filth that had been poured over me. Added to that had been the humiliation. I'd been topless and paraded along the High Street. I'd never live that down.
I was sure that I had seen my ex-husband in the crowd. He'd looked as if he enjoyed seeing me messily degraded and might have seen this as revenge for me leaving him for another man.
Wait until my clients and workmates heard about that. I was sure to get some 'ribbing'. The highly respectable solicitor that they knew, had been so massively destroyed and humiliated. At least they wouldn't have seen my blackening, as I worked in a town over 10 miles away from my home village. Or at least I hoped that nobody from work had been there to witness my destruction. Part of the time, I couldn't see who was watching me due to all that mess on my face.

I remember when I was studying at UNI down in England. When I was drunk one night, I told a group my friends about the Blackening tradition where I came from. I don't think they could believe it, although I was convinced that I saw a guy called Paul in my class get a substantial hard on when I mentioned how filthy the girls got.
Thinking about it, was that why Paul asked me out? OH GOD, yes that must have been it. I'd always wondered why Paul always preferred cuming on my face to making me swallow, giving me a 'a facial'?
He enjoyed seeing me with his sticky cum on my face and he liked that it added to my humiliation. I remember on one occasion; he'd insisted that that I should walk down the road immediately after he had spurted his load on my face. I had to walk outside and in public with his cum dripping off my face. But that was years ago. I would not have agreed to it nowadays. I was a respectable woman after all.

I had not enjoyed the ordeal but had seen it done to many other women over the years. It felt disgusting, to have so much muck and so many so many horrible substances poured over you.
In some ways the worse thing had been the anticipation. It was a bit like Psychological torture. You knew you would be blackened, but not when or where. As a result, I'd been anticipating it with horror for weeks. The woman to be blackened never knew what would be used to get her messy and anything her friends could think of was fair game to them. The women could even be stripped, as well as it being quite normal for her to be tied up.
At least I knew that Ben had enjoyed it. Although I couldn't understand why he liked me sucking him off while still covered in all that muck. I liked giving him pleasure, but that wouldn't be happening again any time soon.
It took me ages to get clean on Saturday. (Ben liked helping rub mess off hidden areas). Then we went to the local pub for last round and to receive congratulations on our forthcoming wedding from our friends.

On Sunday morning the dirty sheets and pillowcase on my bed showed that my hair was not fully clean, and the smell had not gone away.
By Monday morning it was nice to be clean again and back to wearing my normal business clothes. A black skirt suit, stockings and heels. They always make me feel professional and smartly turned out. I think it gives the right impression to clients (provided they didn't see my stocking tops). I had always worn stockings, but it was only since I started to go out with Ben that I wore a suspender belt rather than holdup stockings.

It was not too far to drive to work, just 10 miles to next town which was larger than my village. I parked behind the office.
Back to a normal day, it would be a hectic six weeks before my wedding. I was looking forward to my honeymoon, even though Ben has made me promise that for those two weeks I would do ANYTHING he asked. That meant any kind of sex he wanted, and I knew he had an active imagination. It would make a change from my normal days at work doing the legal side of house sales and purchases plus business contracts.
I told my colleagues at work that I had been blackened over the weekend. They all understood, as it happened in their town as well and one of the other girls, Judy, had been blacked before her wedding last year.

At 4.00pm, out managing partner Clive called me into his office to discuss ongoing work. Boring stuff, but he wanted to see how my workload was before I was away for two weeks. I heard cars moving around in our carpark but thought no more about it. Staff must have clocked off early
Then there was a knock on the door and several staff came in wearing decorator coveralls.
OH NO, not again, I thought, as it dawned on me that they intended to give me a second blackening.
"Surprise! We missed your blackening near your home but must give you our own send off."

Down to car park I was taken
"You can't ruin my business suit," I said
"We don't intend to, off it comes"
It was only then that I realised that my work colleagues were going to see that I wore stockings and suspenders.
I was tied to a chair again.
"Becky as the sendoff before your wedding is called a Blackening, we have decided that everything you get messed with will be black."
They were correct. Black engine oil, treacle, ink, black shoe polish and paint.
Soon I was as filthy as I had been a few days earlier. I was eventually released from the chair.
Fortunately, Judy had given me time to insert a tampon into my pussy before the messing started.

Judy said, "You won't be able to drive your car in your messy state as the inside would be destroyed. So, we've found a push bike for you to ride home."
But I soon realised that my ordeal was not over yet. In keeping with their black theme, the seat of the bike had been smeared with a layer of thick black grease. I would have to sit on that for the hour that it would take me to cycle home.
After the first few minutes realised that I could not avoid the grease by standing up all the way. As I sat down, I felt the disgusting feel of the sticky black grease on my crotch. Worse than that, as I moved to operate the pedals, the grease struck to my hairy bush.
Every time I moved the pedals, my knickers stuck to the grease which then moved to the side and then the muck started adhering to my luxuriantly hairy bush and coating my slit.
The feeling itself was bad, but there was also the humiliation of being seen by all passersby on the road and being able to imagine what state my pussy would be in, by the time I got home. Now I knew why Judy has suggested I wore a tampon, even though it was not my period.

As I approached our village it was clear the someone had phoned ahead and I was met with the sight of Ben standing outside our house videoing me as I arriving home. He'd have more wanking material with that video. Later he threatened to post the video online, if didn't go ahead with wedding, or ever divorced him. He would not post it on YouTube, but Ben knew of an online messy site where other 'perverts' like him who like seeing messy women shared photos and videos.

Again, I would need his help to get clean. And once again, when my face was clean, but the rest of me still filthy and in the remains of my underwear, Ben wanted a messy blowjob. He soon wiped a handful of grease from my fanny to coat my face before he slid his cock between my lips.
This time it took me even longer to clean the sticky substances off. I was not smelly this time, however the grease was very difficult to get off.
Was I the only person to have been blackened three times in their life. Once before my first marriage and twice in the last week. I didn't know but if I was, perhaps I should be proud of such being prepared to take this treatment just because of love. (or perhaps not!).