My Wife's Absolution

The next guy behind her to reach for the lube was waved off by another, who fucked her pussy a few strokes, then pulled out and jerked off on her asshole, pushing the head of his cock in the hole for the last two spurts. The first guy nodded, pushing himself into her cummy asshole for several thrusts, then amicably cut in line to wipe his cock in her hair and have her clean it with her tongue.

This was never just about the physical abuse. All of this was simply the means to a mutually desired end: resolution. The discomfort and displeasure were not exclusive; they mixed with carnal desire and wanton submission, leading to the altered state she was in right now. Taking a stranger's cock into her mouth (more or less) straight from her ass, licking the cum and lube from the shaft and gladly swallowing his load were beyond unusual for her. More than that, taking on fifteen men in every hole was outrageous. But the orgasms quaking through her body as another cock plowed her vagina while her tongue swabbed another man's asshole told me exactly what I needed to know: the method was working—our marriage was being repaired.

The first man to cum in her pussy was a talker, calling my wife all sorts of nasty names as he filled her. Mirthless chuckles sounded at his string of degrading epithets for my beloved and his selection proved fashionable as the next three suitors followed with creampies of their own.

I took another round myself, wondering idly if she recognized my cock among the others. Probably not; her pussy was much looser than I remember, likely rather numb by now and lubed with strange men's cum. Similarly, her asshole took me with no resistance. I spanked her a couple times, watching the man in front wipe his cock in her hair then jam it into her mouth. His hands held her cum-glazed cheeks as he fucked her face, leaning back and grunting as he filled her mouth with his semen. He pulled out and wiped his cock in her ponytail again, then wiped the cum from her face that had transferred to his hands on the top of her head.

By the time I got around in front of her again, her ponytail was positively filthy, but rules are rules, so I rubbed the matted, sticky hair over the top of my dick but wiped the underside on the top of her head before shoving it into my slutty wife's willing mouth.

Round and round we went, holes filled and balls emptied, holes refilled and cocks resuscitated by her hands, tongue, and the general debauchery. Behind the stock, lube was smeared all over her dress, ass, and thighs, mixing with the cum pouring from her holes. In front, the blindfold was practically glued to her face and her mouth, jaw hanging slack as yet another cock pumped in and out, drooled cum and saliva in the same way her other holes were leaking fluids. At some point the ponytail had been released, allowing for easier cock swabbing. Her once gorgeous mane (another favorite feature of her body) now mostly hung in greasy, matted clumps with several strays plastered to her face and neck.

I have a well-honed sense of time, but I had no idea how long we had been at it. By my third lap, her efforts were far less spirited and I had to hold up her sticky head as she blew me. I could also see the guy behind her having to hold up her hips as he reamed her ass. I figured it was time for the next stage.

I pulled out, motioning for the guy in her ass to do the same and also unfasten the stock. I took her by the shoulders and helped her down to the ground, where she sat, panting. Long ago I lost count, but every man had spread their seed in her or on her at least once, much of which was drying in her hair and on her sweaty face. I watched her dispassionately. Her exhaustion was outweighed by the God-knows-how-many orgasms she had just experienced from over a dozen cocks, not to mention the reason for all of this in the first place. There was no regret nor any displeasure. She had done her part and had been forced well beyond her limits. We were equal once more.

But the night was not over. Picking up the leash I walked toward the last piece of furniture, pulling her along behind me. The others followed, stroking their dicks or just enjoying the sight of her used body crawling along the floor. Standing next to the piece, a cushioned bench, I motioned for the two closest to pick her up and lie her on top of it. As they did, I reached underneath and bound her wrists together.

I stood, looking down at her. She was still breathing deeply, coming down from the unbroken stimulation of the train fucking. Her legs naturally spread so her feet rested on the floor. White spooj slowly leaked from her holes onto the bench. Leaning down, I untied the blindfold, which had accumulated its share of pussy fluid, jizz, and lube. "Your eyes will remain closed," I said, and I peeled away the silk strip, revealing her full visage to her recent admirers.

I dropped the blindfold on her stomach and cleared my throat again. "Send in the rest." Seventeen more naked suitors filed in, along with a striking blonde woman.

One month and a day: that was how long ago my first assignment had been due, with nothing so much as an apology or lame excuse why it hadn't been done. The due date passed and the days began counting up. Thirty-two days, thirty-two men.

"You all know why you're here." I pointed to her face. "As with before, if you can cum more than once, do so, but now you are restricted to everything above the shoulders. Get to it."

I discovered the joy of the facial while we dated and she was always happily willing to indulge me. That fetish and its acceptance, combined with losing her anal virginity to me, were the first steps which led to this night, at least as far as sexual openness was concerned. Her ability to please me, even if it was not always her first choice, had motivated my own pledge to her, to pleasure her in whatever way she wanted or needed, regardless of how I felt about it. Now, she was paying for her inattentive behavior over the preceding month reciprocally and in grand style.

I believe the first man to step up was the one who had lubed up her hand to finger his ass, but I really didn't care to confirm that in any way. All that I cared about was when his stroking became more urgent and he grunted, shooting ropes of cum down onto her face. Another stepped up beside him, lacing sperm across her forehead into her hair, shaking off a few drops onto her cheek.

The pair stepped out of the way, quickly replaced by three more, who unloaded thick streams on her mouth, nose, and chin, adding to the layers of dried cum from the gangfuck. The next guy aimed for her eyes; perhaps he had a thing for Asian women. His cum pooled in her left eye, and the next guy added to it until it slid down the side of her face into her ear.

My wife was silently receiving their cumshots, and I figured by now her body was desensitized enough to accept a little stimulation. I made eye contact with the woman and nodded. She stepped through the crowd and knelt on the end of the bench, flipping the skirt up to reveal her abused pussy. The blonde began gently licking and fingering, easily slipping three fingers in, and I could hear my wife softly moaning beneath her thickening mask of cum.

The men resumed. Two more came on the right side of her face, covering her cheek and laying several streaks across her hair. Another stood above her and shot his load lengthwise, tigerstriping all the way from her hairline down to the top of her dress.

And so it went. Jerking off on her face, on her throat, in her hair. The blonde added another finger, then eventually her fist, and her ministrations eventually caused my wife to open her mouth so she could moan. The lucky guy above her at that moment took aim and shot two jets between her lips before criss-crossing her mouth with the remainder. My wife responded by opening wide, and everyone took that to be a target and quickly filled it. With each shot my wife swirled her tongue around, spilling a little out the sides of her mouth. Finally she slowly closed her mouth and pushed with her tongue, forcing the puddle out, welling up from her lips and sliding down her face. Her own mini-orgasm followed shortly.

Thirty-two loads. At least that many—I didn't keep count, and we were there long enough for some to go twice. That was fine with me. My wife looked absolutely gorgeous, cum sliding down her cheeks, pooling on her face, streaked through her hair. Her eyes were glued shut and she had to breathe through her mouth, dribbling cum and saliva as her gangbangers continued to favor the open hole with their thick loads.

The black man from before stepped up and everyone gave him room. He languidly stroked his massive cock; it was hard to believe my wife had taken that up her ass. And mouth, and pussy. Multiple times. When he came it was impressive, eight or nine thick streams that plastered down on my wife's glazed face. If that was his second one tonight, I could only imagine how much he had pumped into her stomach earlier.

One guy walked up and pointed to her chest. I hesitated, because I intended to have a pure bukkake. I looked at her face. Thick chunks and white liquid streaks ran down into a pool beneath her head; her hair was soaked with ejaculate and layered in white. I relented, and the guy came on her heaving chest. I must admit, the glossy black with lines of white looked stunning. Apparently others thought so, too, and soon a half dozen more loads painted the torso of her latex dress.

I was the last to cum, stepping up and stroking myself slowly until I ejaculated on the woman I loved: my soulmate, my wife. My sperm joined a cocktail of others in the mess on her face, and I finished by squeezing out the last drops onto her hair.

I stepped back and cleared my throat for the last time. "Thank you, gentlemen. Well done. As you can see, we have made quite a mess of her. Shall we clean her off?"

A the ring closed around my wife's prone figure once more, the blonde closed her eyes but continued fisting and munching my wife's cunt. The first stream fittingly landed on my wife's face face, followed closely by a half dozen more. Others lower down pissed on her latex dress, along her legs and down to her feet, and onto her exposed mons, spraying the blonde who continued unabated.

Now that she had paid for every day of sin, my wife was being washed clean, quite literally. Absolute forgiveness, resolved in a distinct manner which she is comfortable with but never eager to participate in. She wished for severe punishment: almost three dozen men urinating on her would definitively put a check in that box.

Some of it yellow, some of it clear, all of it raining down on my debauched bride. Much of the cum washed off her face, though quite a lot had dried in the amount of time we had taken to finish, and the rest of her body glistened wetly. The cum on her dress washed off, and I was pleased to see others shared my fetish for wet hair: streams regularly made their way to the top of her head and along her soiled ponytail.

She opened wide again, and several arcing streams were redirected to her mouth. She giggled and closed it again, pursing her lips and spraying it straight up like a fountain, raining back down on her own face. Apparently she was more than resigned to my wild desires, she was reveling in them. Her legs lifted onto the blonde's shoulders, who became just as much of a target.

It took a fraction of the time to finish the wet down compared to the bukkake and as soon as they finished the men departed. When the last had gone, the blonde stood and removed her fist with a suctioning pop and, still ignoring that she was soaked in piss, looked to me expectantly.

"We're finished," I replied to her nonverbal query, "Bring me soap, shampoo, and washcloths, then turn on the overhead showers."

She pointed at the cleaning supplies already sitting by the door.

"Very well. Thank Eric on my behalf for the use of this room and your services, and tell him I will have her"—pointing at my wife—"back here tomorrow at 9 am for him."

She nodded curtly and slipped out the door. Eric was her husband, the powerful benefactor who owned this club and many others. When I had explained my situation and requested the room, Eric had personally taken over coordination of the facilities while his wife had arranged the men, personally screening them for penis girth and length, endurance, and load size. It was her idea to join in during the bukkake, I suspect because she has been keenly interested in my wife since the first time we visited Club Aurora. So had Eric: the agreed price was that he could have my wife to himself the following day to use as he wished. That was fine by me and I didn't have to ask my wife if that was alright. She had already sucked and fucked him, and I suspected she had a bit of a crush on him. It was my reward to her for good behavior tonight.

I walked up to my wife, gazing at her perfect body covered in the filth of mankind. My orgasm had been erotically powerful to the point of pain, but yet my cock throbbed again as I beheld my wife's current condition.

I lived for her. Everything else in my life took a backseat to her happiness. When I realized this years ago, when I finally sorted out my priorities and devoted myself to my partner, I wasn't the first person in this marriage to do so. I was merely catching up with her, who had done that for me since before we were even engaged. To be here, now, with her lying in a puddle of semen and urine, following a gangfuck, all of which in retribution for a self-imposed shortcoming in our communication, was above all an indication of her love for me and willingness to make me happy. This was really all just a reminder for me. It was so apparent: no matter how much I tried, I would never be able to love her enough.

As with the last time I watched her be gangfucked, I pushed into her abused pussy and thrust until I came, hard. This was my pussy, my woman, and I was the last man to leave my mark there tonight. She groaned, partly in pain and partly from pleasure, and my grunts joined her for the same reasons. For both of us, however, both the physical discomfort and bliss were a distant second to the mental stimulation of the situation. I dismounted, taking hold of my softening cock as I stepped around the bench.

There was one last point to make. 'I think I should be punished. Severely.' The words themselves had been attended to, but her method of delivery—by mouth—needed to be addressed.

I stood by her head, looking down with pride, adoration, and lust at what I consider to be the most beautiful face in the world, made no less so by the dried cum and urine dripping down it.

"You did very well, my dear, and I imagine you are quite thirsty by now. Open."

Her lips parted in a little smile as I straddled the bench and lowered my cock to her lips. Releasing, I quickly filled her mouth and stopped so she could swallow, then released again, this time directing much of the flow over her face while she swallowed a second time. I squeezed out the last of my piss over the remains of her ponytail and lightly slapped my limp cock on her face, eliciting another giggle.

I smiled down at her. "You are forgiven."

She smiled up at me tiredly and her mouth moved, but I couldn't hear the words. A ceiling-mounted shower head came to life, pouring hot water onto my back. Soon others would come on, transforming this padded dungeon into our private rain room.

I leaned in close. "Tori, my heart and my wife, let's make you clean again."

"I love you," she whispered in reply.