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My Wife's Absolution

12

Author's Note: My wife challenged me with the very words which start this story, asking to know what I would do to her. This story was my answer. It is 100% fictional.

For those who have enjoyed my romantic stories, this is NOT one of those. **IT IS A STANDALONE STORY** but is in the same universe as my others, taking place sometime after "Vegas Odyssey: The Club." Enjoy.

*****

"I have been bad, very bad. I should be punished. Severely."

Those were her only words, and from the moment she spoke them my libido built like a strumming bass line, rolling like a snowball down a mountainside. I loved her, almost pathologically, but she could be so infuriating. Everything I do for her, to show how important she is to me, was being ignored because she simply didn't feel the same way. At least, how else was I supposed to interpret her lack of response?

To love and obey, that is what she swore to do, till death do us part. My wife was much more than just a partner for me, she was the foundation of my life's accomplishments. I recognized that and rewarded her accordingly, and all I required in return was equal respect and due gratitude. I do not need to ask rhetorically if that was too much to expect—I know it is not. Yet she could not seem to do even that.

...which led us to this moment. At least she recognized her shortcomings and was willing to submit herself to absolution. 'Willing to submit,' indeed: she stood barefoot in the middle of the room, her hands bound behind her, dressed in a strapless latex minidress extending barely to her thighs, blindfolded, and wearing a small ball gag.

I allow her to be a strong woman. I encourage it, actually. She is intelligent and beautiful, purpose-driven and successful. It is only natural, then, that when I expect something from her once in awhile, she can be resistant. That is why we are here: the order must be realigned, the balance restored.

Of course it happens through sex. Words provide too much maneuvering space (schemes within schemes within schemes) or places to hide, so conversation, mediation, and even written agreements become pointless and destructive. Physical abuse—the natural, instinctive method of enforcing instruction from the time we are children—provides both the cleanest results and the most direct medium between two trusting people.

I walked around her, watching the blue glint of the tinted light reflect off the shiny material of her dress, shifting slightly as she breathed. That was the only movement I allowed. She tried swallowing earlier; a softly spoken word, and now a line of saliva dripped from her chin thanks to the ball in her arrogant mouth.

It was really a matter of trust. And desire, I suppose. Did she want to be my wife? Yes, I know she did. We agreed to this arrangement long before I proposed, and while our lives have evolved since those days the foundations of our relationship remain rock solid because of several key points of understanding between us. I have given her my oath, to love her and cherish her for the rest of my days, and I have never broken that. I even went beyond my wedding vows, declaring a promise between us to do anything she requires of me to give her pleasure. We have been to the edge of her sexual universe and back because of that oath and I have never regretted a single moment.

But now that we had arrived at the current problem, I was poised to shatter that universe. The issue lay between how she listened and how we communicated. The words had become muddled, unclear to both of us, so I chose to return to this, our pure sexual bond, to resolve the matter. Here, we are strong and united; here, despite anything I do to her, we are unbreakable. Once that was reaffirmed the petty issues would disappear and we would be in tune once again.

I walked up to her and slapped her face.

That was for ignoring a question earlier this week, which I still needed an answer to. With this, I set the tone early: she is sensitive about her face. I forcefully grabbed her wet chin and broadly licked the cheek I just slapped. I held my face inches from hers, listening to her breathe, smelling my spit dry on her face. I stepped back and let go, wiping the drool on my hand off on her shoulder.

Ah, there it is: the smell of her pussy. It took longer than expected for her body to respond to the setting; apparently the slap was what she needed. Interesting. I continued my inspection, stepping around behind her. My hand drifted beneath the dress, gently palming her smooth ass. It is truly exquisite, one of my favorite parts of her phenomenal body. I wondered what condition it would be in by the end of the night.

Where to begin? This was no simple role-playing—I expected her submission to be total. I knew she wanted it: at every point in the past month where she resisted, it was clear she was goading me. The finale was her aforementioned statement of understanding concerning a severe punishment. This infuriated me—her petulance and taunting tone—and the question etched itself in my mind: does she fully understand how far I will take this?

That I had called on the resources of a powerful man known to both of us in order to set up this event should have told her something. Furthermore, I expected the elaborate setup to put a little fear in her. I was fairly certain that would also have the intended effect of turning her on, too.

I stepped around in front of her. Reaching behind her I pulled her long ponytail over her shoulder, my hand running through the glossy almost-black hair down over her chest, tracing her latex-covered breasts. Most others would speak right now, possibly explaining their actions or asking for permission to continue. I only needed to see her chest rising and falling and to smell the pheromones of her arousal to know how she felt about her immediate future. Like I said: trust and desire. Trust...and desire.

I reached up and fastened the choker around her elegant neck. Taking the leash, I led her to the wall. Untying her hands, I turned her around and held them up, using leather straps anchored to the wall to tie all four limbs spread-eagle. Spit had dripped from her chin onto her chest, so I rubbed the wet spot with my palm and wiped it up the front of her face.

Kneeling, I picked up my first instrument of torture: a dildo with a built-in remote-controlled vibrator. Reaching under her skirt, I worked it into her pussy, which was indeed quite wet. Her body twitched in surprise and her arms flexed against the restraints as I quickly tested the remote.

Satisfied, I stood and faced her, placing my hand lightly around her throat. I thumbed the switch and watched her squirm for several seconds before turning it off. I did it again, on and off, this time lifting her chin with my wrist to hold her head still. Third time: now I squeezed a little and pressed against her throat for a couple heartbeats. When I released she breathed in sharply and I secured the vibrator. She was already extremely aroused. Impassively I watched her trying to remain still, but just when she came under control I hit the switch again. Her back arched against the wall, and I pressed my hand into her neck, cutting off her air. This time I held it for several seconds, listening to her arms strain against the leather and the faint electric hum coming from her belly.

When I released, she gasped and a flood of spit pushed out around the ball gag. My hand moved from her throat, again smearing the saliva over her face. I turned off the vibrator, paused for a four-count, then slapped her wet face hard and turned it back on.

This time as I choked her I leaned forward and licked along the bottom of her jaw. The vibrator clicked off and I relented against her windpipe, stepping forward to put my hard, naked cock under the latex skirt against her clit. I rocked my hips, stimulating the little nub as my hand alternately closed and released around her neck. I flicked the switch one last time, feeling the vibrations on the end of my cock as my hand once more tightened around her throat.

Abruptly I stepped back and turned off the toy. Her head fell forward gasping and her legs trembled from the stimulation. Blue light shimmered across her heaving breasts, playing off the shiny dress. The cooling sensation of her pussy juice evaporating from the head of my cock was marvelous; the sound of her ragged breathing, sublime.

I squatted down on my haunches, unfastening her leg restraints. I did the same with her hands, once again wiping her drool on her face. Taking her by the leash, I led her to the next contraption, a medieval stock, modernized with heavy molded plastic and leather padding. I bent her over, enjoying the way the skirt revealed her toy-filled pussy. Her hands and head in place, I carefully swept her long ponytail out of the socket to hang by her head, then I shut the top half, latching it with a metallic snap.

When we first met, she was a shy, quiet girl, very reserved in her sexuality and not as imaginative as I was. Within a few short years, however, she was introducing me to new things, including physical abuse during sex and strap-ons. I never questioned where this new excitement came from; I simply accepted it and happily jumped into whatever she desired. I am her husband and her lover, and my oath extended to the humbling, the novel, the unforeseen; but ultimately I found that if it was for her, I wanted it and found pleasure in it. Now she swears she feels the same way about me. I was here, now, to find out for certain.

My hand drifted back to her ass again, delicately lifting the latex skirt over her lower back so I could caress the soft flesh. I could not resist leaning over to softly kiss her butt cheek, which was cool to my lips. Much of my sexual inspiration has come from this ass and right now was one of those moments.

My hand came back and swung forward, swatting loudly across her bare skin. She squealed into the gag as I hit the vibrator switch. I spanked her hard once, twice, thrice more, leaving a hand print each time, oddly colored but still quite discernible in the blue light. I turned off the vibrator and resumed gently rubbing as her breathing slowed.

I fondled her clit for a moment, then thumbed the vibrator switch as I cocked my hand back again. My next three spanks were delivered rapidly, driving her into the stock. She screamed into the gag each time and after the last one her legs gave out. I switched off the vibrator and stepped around behind her, gently lifting her hips back up so she stood bent over once more. The skirt required readjustment over her back. Beneath her whole ass was an angry dark purple and the muscles were quivering beneath the skin.

I stepped back and picked up a bucket of cold water (this establishment will provide you damn near anything you request) and without ceremony tossed the water straight into her crotch like I was putting out a fire. It splashed all over her backside, soaking her and quite effectively cooling the burning sensation of the spanking. Her body jumped against the stock from the shockingly cold dousing and she rasped a breathless squeal. She *hates* being cold. I smiled.

Next, a string of anal beads. I lubed them up as I squatted behind her, ignoring the water dripping down her legs. The only consideration I gave to her comfort as I fed them into her anus was to turn on the vibrator, though I'm not sure if that was exactly "helpful."

With her ass full of synthetic rubber, I traded one-for-one, removing the dildo-vibrator. Still squatting, I inspected her pussy. The lips were puffed up, the labia opened like flower petals, revealing a glistening, slightly-gaping interior. There was not just water running down her legs: she was quite literally dripping with excitement.

I firmly gripped her butt cheek with my hand, as if getting leverage, then slowly but firmly pulled the anal beads out. One by one they steadily popped free and I could hear her muffled moans from the other side of the stock. Methodically I lubed up the beads again, reinserted them, and pulled them free. I repeated the process a third time. Each time most of the lube stayed inside her, and after the fourth evolution I was satisfied that she was sufficiently greased.

The dildo went back in, sliding in without effort, as did the anal beads for the fifth time. I stood and turned on the vibrator to the absolute lowest setting, enough to slowly drive her wild without giving her release.

I cleared my throat. "Send them in," I announced to the empty room.

A small click back to my right and a semi-hidden door opened. A line of naked men filed in, a mix of races, builds, and sizes, fifteen in all. My wife had been a bad girl and she was going to feel every inch of her punishment. She had no idea any of this was coming because I had given her no indication what to expect when we arrived at the club, but I knew she had been excited. I was determined to find out how much.

"Gentlemen, watch closely, I will show you what I expect from you. Get to where you can see." I heard shuffling as I turned around and removed the dildo and anal beads from my loving, adorable wife. Lining up, I plunged my cock into her sodden pussy, grabbing her hips and pulling her back into me as much as the stock allowed.

"She enjoys light teasing, but you may fuck her however you wish. At this point she'll take anything to get an orgasm."

With that, I withdrew, sliding up an inch and pressing against her asshole. As expected, her back door opened and readily accepted my cock, which I drove into her firmly until my pubic bone ground against her tailbone.

"On the other hand, she absolutely loves having her ass pounded, so have at it." I gave a demonstration, pulling out almost to the tip then ramming home, eliciting a muffled grunt. I repeated the motions, picking up my tempo and being rewarded with more sounds and a telltale fluttering of her sphincter as she approached release. Oh, but not just yet, my darling.

I pulled out and walked around in front of her.

"Now, pay attention: if you fuck her pussy, feel free to shove your cock into her mouth to clean it off. But straight ass-to-mouth is horribly unsanitary." I took her ponytail, holding it up for the others to see. "So if you fuck her ass on your way around, be sure to clean your dick before putting it into her mouth." That said, I wiped my lubed-up cock in her ponytail, removing most of the excess. Then I reach down, cupping my hand below her mouth as I unsnapped her gag. As expected, a deluge of saliva poured out from behind the ball. I caught most of it with my cupped hand and as I stood up to address the others my hand casually smeared over her face.

"Come around to this side so you can see." More shuffling as I wiped the rest of the spit on the back of her neck. I pulled her head erect by the root of her ponytail and stuffed my cock between her lips. I could feel her tongue swirling around the shaft, cleaning the pussy juice and lube. I rocked my hips fore and aft, pumping in and out of her mouth as I addressed the masses.

"Notice that I have not cum yet. There is a reason for that, which you have all been made aware of. If you are able to revive yourself in time for that reason, feel free to cum anywhere." I stepped back and waved them in. "Otherwise, enjoy yourselves."

As we have progressed through our marriage we have given each other 'assignments' which fill our own fetishes or sexual desires, things we want to see or hear about the other one doing. This was one of the major areas my wife had been letting me down recently and it was not something that any of my constant reminders or pointed questioning was resolving. Fifteen was not a random number. It represented the number of homework assignments concerning our sexual behavior on which she was overdue. Once again, words provided wiggle room; the plastic-and-leather stock did not.

As the men lined up to pull a train on my wife, I considered how we could go from the two of us sharing a romantic evening in the mountains years ago, secluded from the world, sharing our bodies with each other for the first time...to this. The man behind her slipped from her pussy up to her asshole like I did as the man before her was stroking his cock and lifting his balls into her mouth. That she was enjoying this was patently obvious: her tongue lapped around his sac as her ass pushed back into the first guy's cock.

I still believed she was the most beautiful creature on earth, something I told her in the first weeks we met. Nothing about that had changed. As the first pair rotated out and the next two stepped forward to be pleasured by her, I pondered the sequence of sexual encounters which led us here, to be in this position as a voluntary demonstration of her loyalty and love for me. Or rather, the sequence of events that produced this scenario—putting her in that stock to be gangfucked so that she would do as I asked and I would forgive her—and how both of us had evolved along the way.

The next pair stepped forward, sliding home simultaneously into pussy and mouth. The guy in front fairly well fucked her face, keeping tempo with the guy behind her. He pushed in deep, her throat expanding to take his cock, then pulled out, a long string of spit dangling from the head. He pushed back in again as the pussy fucker pulled out, gripping the base of his cock to forestall release. His replacement smacked her ass, then pushed his cock into it, driving deep before establishing a rapid rhythm with short thrusts.

And so it went. Fifteen men worked their way around my wife's petite body dressed in shiny black, fucking her pussy, her ass, and her mouth. More lube was regularly added to her gaping asshole, though it inevitably ended up in her long black hair as every guy who entered her ass duly wiped down his cock with her ponytail, which began to take on a certain sheen of its own.

Her first orgasm was quite loud, even with the pair of balls in her mouth. It was not the last, and while she has never been multi-orgasmic, the unrelenting fucking kept her hot, well past the point at which she would normally be sore.

Shortly thereafter a man with a short, fat penis stepped up to her face stroking his cock. He stayed back about six inches, stroking his shaft to release, blasting her face with cum. Apparently the man in her ass enjoyed the sight as he grunted and thrust in to the hilt, pumping his load deep into her rectum.

Her tongue licked the cum around her lips, and the next guy used his dick to wipe more of it into her mouth before thrusting into it himself. He, too, pulled out and came powerfully, aiming for her forehead so that his load slid down to her blindfold and over the rest of her face.

Meanwhile, a muscular black man took my words to heart, pounding my wife's pussy, then pulling out and forcing his huge oak branch into her ass, fucking that hole just as mercilessly. When he came around to the front, he cleaned his cock as directed, then shoved it all the way down her throat, ignoring her choking sounds as he gripped the top of her head, sighed, and came straight down her gullet. As he withdrew, she gagged and coughed up a long string of cum that hung from her mouth as she fought to catch her breath.

The next guy waited patiently for a moment, holding up her head while she coughed again and swallowed. Then her mouth smiled a little and opened, and he filled it once more with cock as the fucking continued.

The rotation proceeded like clockwork. At one point a guy took the lube and squirted it on one of her captive hands, then turned around and backed into it. Apparently she caught on, inserting her finger into his asshole and massaging his prostrate. I nodded approvingly—that was creative thinking. The guy she was blowing took it one step further, turning around in place and offering his ass to her mouth. He reached back and spread his cheeks, and I could see her tongue playfully sliding up and down his crack.

12
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