Hair Pulling

The two of them sawed into me for a long time breathing heavily. Scotty even announced that he feared he might not finish successfully since my rump wasn't as pretty as a woman's. So they kept going forever, periodically spitting out exactly how I'd hurt them.

When they finally did cum it didn't sound like they had particularly great orgasms, but I felt and tasted the spunk nevertheless. Within minutes of each other they dropped off of me, satisfied with their revenge.

Horatio positioned himself behind me, while, so far, no second oral assailant sat in front. I remembered his wife best of all: a fiery latina with tight buns and gorgeous black tresses. His wife was the best fuck of them all - wild and uninhibited, willing to try every new thing, even anal. Unfortunately, her willingness to try new things was how he learned I'd been seeing her.

Plunging into my loose bunghole he ranted, "She kept introducing me to new ideas. First she wanted me to pull her hair. Then she asked me to slap her ass. She started liking pussy licking after years of denying me. It just went on and on and I was ecstatic with our new adventurous sex life until I found out where she was learning these things. Now if we do anything other than Missionary I can't stop thinking that she learned it from you."

He jammed his cock deep up my ass in one stroke, pulling the jingling ring in my hair wildly as he fucked my ass with abandon. Oooh, how I craved the pull of the ring even as it ground his sex organs into my hole. The fucking ring and cords were a thrill despite the price being that his cock reached places Jeremy's couldn't touch. If you can believe it, his dick stirring my insides made grotesque squishy sounds for all to hear.

Then something even more humiliating happened. As he was yanking my head this way and that by the ring, and consequently by all the nipple clips, I grew a mighty erection. I couldn't help it. After years of hair pulling being an integral part of all my greatest sexual forays, every sensation reverberated from my scalp throughout my body, the feelings were over-the-top with every yank. The angrier he got, the more combatively he jerked, and the harder my cock became.

His anger spurred him on too, and with a final lurching yank on my ring, the ottoman's springs squeaked, he bottomed out, and he spunked my butt. Jets of slimy cum shot me with him sharply announcing his victory over me.

But Stosh noticed my embarrassing excitement, causing him to draw tight on the ropes leading from under the ottoman to my testicle leash. He couldn't stand that I might be enjoying this in any way. I suspect he would have caused some serious damage except that the friction with the ottoman limited how tight it would go, which was still pretty intense.

Unfortunately, the tighter the band on my balls pulled, the more the blood supply in my club built up pressure, making it impossible for me to lose my erection, despite the pain.

Stosh yelled at me, "What the fuck you on about."

The other men then noticed too and then the newly enraged group decided to really show me what for."

With universal cheering from the others, Ty slid into the seat in front of me with his engorged cock ready to punish me. They treated him like their representative champion, the final gladiator to seal my fate. One would think I could only take note of my impending assault. But the first thing I noticed was that his big black cock was bigger than mine by at least two inches. Even as he threatened me I was impressed.

It was dark and angry - and now I was worried about my impending assault. No woman had ever taken much of my cock into her mouth and I always refrained from pushing too far. But I had little hope, in the crazed state he was in that Ty would hold back.

He grabbed my head roughly causing the nipple clips to dig into my scalp. I yelped even as I thirsted for it. His pulling down on my head could have spelled an end from the constant tugging on the rope that one or another man always found time for. But no, whoever held the end kept pulling against Ty. If they only knew how I liked the tugging they would have changed their approach.

Ty was the only one left now to gain his vengeance, and pulling my head far down the big shaft, he did.

The crown stretched my lips, the shaft forced my tongue aside, and his whole package smelled ripe as cheese.

He was angry as a hornet, "You had my wife in my very own bed." His fingers dug into my jaw.

Up and down my helpless head jerked, "You took her on actual dates, so it wasn't just screwing." He tightened his grasp, trying to force the head deeper.

His cock battered the back of my throat repeatedly and each time I felt his arms flex as he tried to gain entrance. "They were better dates than any I'd ever taken her on. They were fucking more romantic than mine, and didn't even cost you a cent." His hands reached around my neck, his thumbs on either side of my windpipe.

With a more vicious pull than ever, the head squeezed in. "The worst, you know what the worst was? You made her fall in love with a man she could never have because you worship the ground that Tara walks on even as you cheat."

With a grunt, he told the group, "I finally got it down someone's throat. I can feel it in there with my fingers. I've never done that before."

With hooting and high fives the five who were not fucking my mouth cheered Ty on.

I was pulled down by Ty, pulled up again by the exotic nipple clips yanking wonderfully on my hair, and the whole time my balls were squeezed and constricted by the leather band. It was fantastic! It made having a big black cock down my throat strangely worth it.

I had no control over my instincts. My hips humped the ottoman, my cock spasmed, and I shot big gobs of goo. Luckily, the guys didn't see or who knows what they would have done to me.

Ty held me down all the way, thrusting his pelvis upward, then unloaded his own big load directly into my stomach. I didn't care a nick since I'd just had my best ever orgasm and was still reeling.

The guys all left, telling me I got what I deserved. They were right of course.

Still tied, with cum leaking from my sloppy backside and the bitter taste still in my mouth, I could finally rise up on elbows and knees.

Just then Tara came in from the kitchen. Aghast I asked her with genuine fear for my pride, "You, you saw it?"

"No." She told me gloomily. "Lia said that since I'd heard about your affairs but never saw them it would be poetic justice if I just listened. But I was in there the whole time."

We spent the next hour tediously unscrewing nipple clips from my hair then getting me cleaned up. Yea, she helped. It doesn't mean she'd forgiven me, or trusted me, or wasn't still hurt. I apologized profusely yet she still threatened me, saying, I had better have learned my lesson.

We drove home in silence. I didn't blame her for being upset. I didn't even blame her for letting Lia talk her into it. It was all my fault.

We pulled in the drive and just sat there for awhile. Finally Tara said, "I'm not mad." I didn't believe her at first. "I'm grieving and depressed and heartsick."

I could handle it if she were mad. This seemed a thousand times worse.

Then a change of attitude gripped her. "I didn't know other men were such bad bad lovers. I think I'll keep you around."

Then she switched off the car, "But a few things are gonna change around here. First, I'm gonna keep you on a shorter leash. There's gonna be a finder app on your phone and a tracker on your car." But with a tiny sly grin she added, "Though we might get our own testicle leash too."

That last idea sounded fun, but I was in no position to express even the slightest emotion other than regret.

"And next, anytime you need a little extramarital excitement we can always call over a man to do your backside or mouth. On our own terms of course. I think you might have even liked it from the noises I heard. And yes, I saw your cum on the side of the ottoman and floor."

I considered explaining that my excitement was solely due to the hair and ball pulling. It wasn't the right time for that discussion either. Also, deep in my subconscious I thought she might actually be right.

"Lastly, you're gonna get a haircut...we'll see if I let you grow it back."

This time I literally opened my mouth to object, then I just shut up. Removing the source of my strength seemed right.

"And if you don't agree, we can always re-live the events of our little party. You'll never know when some woman you meet is actually testing you."

Her eyes bore into mine, "Do you agree?"

I'd tried to stop cheating in the past and rarely succeeded. It seemed impossible though in my soul I knew that I needed to stop. Even in that moment I was conflicted regarding what I was about to say, "Tara, you're my world and I still did it. You're completely right to track my phone and my car. And I'm actually glad you finally got upset. But I don't think I can do it on my own." The next part was super hard to say, "But you're gonna have to be harder on me - do more to stop me. I'll do whatever you say. But we gotta decide now while my will is strong. Whatever you decide I'll accept."

She appraised me like a man on trial. Finally she completed her judgement, "You're right. You have no control over yourself. But someone needs to control you."

She got out of the car, phone in hand, while I followed her into the house wondering where this was going. She straightened the house, removed her makeup, completed her nighttime routine, got dressed for bed, and beckoned me to follow some more. It was at least an hour later when with a short curt demand she said, "I think I've got it. Stand up and strip, big boy..."

Author's note:

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