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[hotaks]

Cherry

"What have you got for me, Mommy-slut?" I asked as I pushed up her skirt. Her panties were soaked orange. The tart, citrus aroma mixed with her spicy cunt. I licked my lips, hungry for one more dessert. Cherry and grape were wonderful. I hoped orange was just as good.

"Mommy whipped up an orange jubilee," she moaned, her fingers hooking her panties' waistband. "Just for her big, strong son."

I loved hearing her say those words. My mother was my slut. She would do anything I told her.

"Pull them down so I can feast."

"Yes, Sir."

Mom's trimmed, black bush--her true hair color, the blonde coming from a bottle--was a mess of orange slush. Her thick pussy lips were coated in it. I groaned, leaning in and licking at the orange, savoring the tart flavor. I licked harder, diving into her pussy folds, finding the spicy musk mixed with her tart passion.

I sealed my mouth on her pussy, sucking so hard. She groaned, gasping and shuddering as I drew out the orange-infused cunt cream. It poured into my mouth. I gulped it down, my hands seizing her ass, gripping it. Her large breasts jiggled in her dress.

My mom was a MILF.

My cock ached so hard in my jeans. It took all my self-control not to fuck any one of my women. But I was strong. I was in control. I would give my women the pleasure they needed. The dominance they all craved. I could see it in their eyes. It made them happy when I took charge. It was a gift they gave me.

And one I couldn't abuse by being a selfish asshole. If I made them happy, they would make me happy. It was a two-way exchange.

"Oh, yes, my big, strong son is eating Mommy's pussy," she moaned, her eyes squeezing shut. "Eat every drop. Mommy needs to feed her son."

"Yes, you do, Aunt Shriya," groaned Sara. "Right, Cupcake?"

"Yeah," Ananya said, her words soft, subdued.

"I bet it's making your little pussy hot, Cupcake." Sara pulled our little sister onto her lap, her hand sliding up beneath Ananya's skirt. "Hmm, Cupcake?"

"I guess," Ananya said.

"Oh, it is," Sara purred.

Ananya shuddered beside me, her body shivering as I heard Sara's fingers sink into hot, wet cunt. I groaned, my dick throbbing harder, my tongue licking faster, gathering all the orange juice out of my mom's cunt I could.

She groaned louder, humping against my face while Ananya panted and Sara nibbled on her neck. I squeezed my mom's ass, pulling her tight, sucking at her cunt. Her juices flowed into my mouth, the orange flavor diminishing, the spicy musk rising.

"Yes, yes, Mommy's son is strong. He has three women all panting after him."

"Soon to be six," groaned Sara.

"Yes, my sister is aching for it. She's so mad she's stuck at school coaching debate."

Sara gave a wicked giggle while I pictured Aunt Shruti. She was one year younger than my mom and just as beautiful and almost as busty. Tonight, she would join the harem. She was like mom, a submissive slut in need of a master.

"I'm going to fuck your sister tonight," I growled at Mom between licks. "I'm going to ram my cock into her cunt. And you're going to be there watching."

"Yes," Mom moaned. "Oh, make her a slut. She needs it." Mom ground her pussy on my face. "Yes, yes, Mommy wants to watch her big, strong son fuck her sister and her daughters and her nieces. Mommy wants you to fuck them all."

The SUV rocked as Mom spasmed. Her orgasm surged through her. Juices squirted into my mouth. I gulped them down. They flowed over my chin and spilled down my neck. I was such a sticky mess, and I loved it. I made all my women cum.

"Fuck," I growled, lifting my face from Mom's pussy, watching her spasm. "Lets get the groceries put away so I can fuck each and every one of you!"

"Yes," moaned my Mom. "Mommy needs something bigger than a Popsicle."

* * *

 

[hotaks]

Janhvi

I bit into my sandwich, the lettuce so crispy, the turkey had a hint of smoky delight, and the cheese... Provolone. The mustard was spicy and the bread was a rich, whole grain. I moaned as I sat at the island counter in Aunt Shriya's kitchen. I was so famished after my ten mile run at the park. I took another bite, groaning in delight.

A mess surrounded me. Lettuce and bread crumbs, and somehow I had gotten a large splotch of mayonnaise on the counter. My legs kicked as I took another bite, feet thudding against the island. The front door rattled, and I tensed. Someone was coming home.

Was it Cherry? He would be so mad when he saw the mess. He was soooo uptight about keeping the house clean. I didn't much see the point in doing any of that. Cherry liked cleaning up, and I hated it. So why should I do it when he would just do it anyways?

I took another bite as the footsteps echoed. More than one person was home. I heard Cherry say, "I'm going to enjoy..." His words trailed off as he stepped into the kitchen, holding a pair of brown, paper grocery bags wrapped up in his, admittedly, strong arms. His eyes narrowed. He was a tall guy, handsome, I suppose, like Uncle Chandu. He looked a lot like his dead dad, same dark hair, same serious face.

"I see you've made a mess, Janhvi," he said, words stern.

"Uh-huh," I said and took another bite of my sandwich. I chewed loudly. I called him Lint because that was how annoying he was. Behind him came my annoying sister Sara. She did anything Cherry wanted because she soooo wanted to jump his bones. I grinned at her through a mouthful of food.

Aunt Shriya and Ananya followed, both holding more groceries. Aunt Shriya froze. "Janhvi, what did you do to my kitchen?"

"Made lunch," I said as I chewed. "Starving."

"You are gong to clean up this mess," Cherry said, setting the grocery bags on the far end of the counter, "by the time I finish getting the groceries."

"And if I don't, what are you going to do, Lint?"

His face twitched. "I'm going to bend you over my knee, rip down your shorts and panties, and spank your ass while my mom, your sister, and Ananya watch."

I snorted in laughter. "Right, like Aunt Shriya would let you do that."

"He's the man of the house now, dear," Aunt Shriya said. "Just like your Uncle Chandu was before him."

I blinked at that and took another bite of my sandwich. Uncle Chandu absolutely would have spanked my ass for making a mess and not cleaning it up. But he was dead six months. No one did anything to me now. I could do what I want.

I chewed on my sandwich as Cherry headed outside to get more groceries while my cousin, aunt, and sister put away what had already been brought in. They kept looking at me, Sara with an eager smile on her lips, Ananya's doe eyes wide behind her glasses like she was shock I wasn't following his orders, and Aunt Shriya with a mysterious smile. It was like she knew something that I didn't.

I knew Cherry. He didn't have the balls to follow through on his threats.

He walked in with the next load. I gave him a big grin and took the last bite of my sandwich. His eyes were hard, commanding. A shiver ran through me. When had he gotten such a spine? I could almost believe that he could spank me.

Which was ridiculous. He was only a year older than me.

On his next trip, I was sucking my fingers clean of a few drops of mustard. I gave him another smirking smile. He wouldn't do anything. I squirmed on the stool, eager for him to finish bringing in the groceries.

"One more trip," he told me.

"Good," I nodded. "Got to get all the groceries in. Don't want them to go bad."

"I'm going to enjoy spanking your ass, Janhvi."

"Aunt Shriya won't let you, Lint," I said and stuck out my tongue at him.

"I will," she said, pulling cans of soup out of a bag and sticking them in the cupboard. "And if you keep calling him Lint, he'll really spank you."

I blinked at that. I frowned, looking at Sara. She had such a huge grin on her face. And she was dressed so strange. Like a normal girl instead of her tomboy garb. Tight clothing instead of baggy. And she clearly wasn't wearing a bra. I breathed in and...

"Does it smell like Kool-Aid?" I blinked.

"Oh, we ate some Popsicles in the car," Sara said, turning to me.

I blinked, the entire crotch of her jeans was dark. "Did you piss yourself?"

"Cherry just made me very wet."

Ananya giggled, nodding her head.

"He's good at that," Aunt Shriya said, a husky tone to her voice.

What was going on? None of them were acting normal. I mean, I know my sister was wet for Cherry, but she and the idiot tried to hide it from the family instead of flaunting it. They thought they were being sneaky when they made out. I had watched them a few times, rubbing my crotch. Cherry was hot without a shirt on. Even if he was an uptight jerk. But what was up with Ananya and Aunt Shriya?

Sara sucked at her fingers like she was cleaning something off them, her eyes staring at Ananya. She blushed and pushed up her glasses. What was Ananya even doing out of her room socializing with the family? She was such a nerd, always reading her dumb books. And Aunt Shriya... She clearly knew about Sara and Cherry and...approved?

"What is going on?" I demanded. "Why are you three acting so strange?"

"Cherry's finally become the man of the house," Aunt Shriya said with a smile that could only be described as...horny.

Cherry walked in with the last two sacks of groceries, set them down on the counter, and fixed his eyes on me. "I see you didn't clean up your mess."

"Nope," I said, hopping off the stool. "Have fun cleaning it up for me, Lint." He wouldn't spank me.

I sauntered past my sister and Ananya, walking to the end of the island. I fixed Cherry with a big grin as I went to walk past him. He wouldn't spank me. He couldn't.

And then his hand grabbed my hair and yanked. I gasped at the sharp pain in my scalp, stumbling back into him. He forced me to look up at him, his eyes so strong, so commanding. "Janhvi, I am tried of you being a brat. It's time you understood that you are a part of this family, and you will respect the others in it. No more will we clean up your messes or do your chores."

"Make me," I said, defiance surging through me. "You don't--"

He yanked on my hair. I gasped, stumbling after him as he marched me out of the kitchen and into the living room. I spluttered and kicked at him, my hands scratching at his wrists. I spit like a furious cat.

"Let me go, dick! Aunt Shriya! Help! Cherry's picking on me!"

"You brought this on yourself, dear," Aunt Shriya purred. "And don't pretend you don't want this. That you haven't been pushing Cherry to see if he would bend you over his knee and spank you. I know how much you liked it when my husband would do it."

I gasped, shuddering. How could she know? I didn't understand why my pussy got so hot and wet whenever Uncle Chandu spanked me. It started a few years back. It didn't matter if it was bare bottom, through my panties, or my jeans, my pussy grew hot from behind forced over his knee, my cheeks burning with humiliation for being treated like a little girl, and then the sharp pain which warmed my ass and bled to my cunt.

And as Cherry dragged me to the couch, everyone watching, that warm itch began in my pussy. This was even more humiliating than Uncle Chandu punishing me. At least he had spanked me since I was a little girl. But this was my cousin Cherry.

He was only a year older than me.

"Please, Cherry," I gasped. "I'll clean it up. I will. You don't have to do this." My hips squirmed. My pussy grew wetter as I begged.

"Nope," Cherry said. "You need to understand your place."

"Yep," Sara nodded, marching right behind us. "Spank her ass hard, Cherry. She needs discipline."

"Oh, you bitch," I hissed at my sister.

"Hey," Cherry snarled, anger crossing his face for the first time. "You don't talk to your sister like that. You respect her and love her. Like you respect and love the rest of your family. But if you want to be a brat, we'll treat you like one."

He yanked down my jogging shorts, the stretchy material bunching around my knees. I trembled as his hands seized my plain panties. And then he yanked them down, too. His eyes stared at my trimmed, black bush adorning my pudenda.

My cheeks went crimson. He was staring at my pussy. My cousin. Oh, god, this was embarrassing.

Then he sat down and yanked me over his lap like I was a little girl. My cheeks burned with shame. "Stop this, Cherry," I said, bucking on his lap. "I'm not a child."

"Then why do you act like one?" His left hand pinned my back down across his lap while his right stroked my naked ass.

My virgin pussy clenched at his touched. A wave of shameful heat shot through me. My body liked his touch. Sara sat beside him and pulled my legs over her lap. Her hand stroked my thigh up to my ass, rubbing at my other cheek.

What was going on here? My pussy clenched again. I felt hot juices leak out. I squirmed, so aware that they could see my pussy between my thighs. I kicked and bucked, grinding on his lap, my stomach rising and falling and...

Cherry was hard.

My cousin had a throbbing erection. He squeezed my butt-cheeks, and I moaned. He was hard...for me. He wanted to spank me. What was going on? He was molesting me, and Aunt Shriya wasn't do anything to stop it.

She was watching, standing next to Ananya, their eyes both on me.

"Spank her naughty ass," Aunt Shriya moaned, her voice so husky. "Do it. Show her how strong you are."

Ananya nodded her head, her voice a low whisper, "Yes, big brother."

"Spank her ass," hissed Sara, her hand squeezing my other cheek. They were all in on this.

"Just get this over with," I hissed, my stomach twisting with humiliation. They all wanted to see me treated like a little girl. I wanted to melt into a puddle of shame. My pussy was growing so wet.

"First, Sara gets to spank you five times for calling her a bitch," Cherry said, pinching my ass and making me squirm, my pussy growing hotter. "Then I will spank you ten times for making a mess. You will count them out and thank us for each one."

"What?" I gasped, my cheeks burning. Now my sister would spank me? My older, bitch of a sister.?

"Oh, thank you," cooed Sara, pressing closer to Cherry. The way she said it, the way she cuddled with him, made my eyes widened.

"You're fucking him!" I accused.

"Yep," she said and slammed her hand down hard on my ass.

I gasped, bucking as the pain and humiliation shot through me. My sister just spanked my ass on Cherry's command. My thighs squeezed tight, my clit aching. The smack reverberated through the living room. Ananya bit her lip. Aunt Shriya let out a moan.

A moan. What the fuck?

"You're supposed to say something, Janhvi," Sara said, not hiding the glee in her voice.

"No!"

Spank!

Crack!

Spank!

Smack!

Slap!

They came fast, hard, her hand smacking over and over on my ass as I bucked and moaned, the heat burning across my flesh. I felt five of them. Which made six in total. I glared at her over my shoulder, my butt-cheeks on fire, my pussy dripping juices.

"Cherry said five. That was six." I swallowed the bitch I wanted to add.

"You didn't count," she grinned. "So they didn't count."

Smack!

"Oh, god," I shuddered, the heat flaring through my ass. I clenched my burning butt-cheeks, shuddering. "Please, don't make me say this, Cherry."

"It's part of your punishment," he growled, my squirming body rubbing on his hard cock. He felt so big beneath his jeans. Uncle Chandu was never hard when he spanked me. I never excited him.

But I excited Cherry.

"Fine," I huffed. "One, thank you, Sara." I put all my derision into saying the words.

Smack!

 

[hotaks]

I yelped in pain again, both my butt-cheeks burning. Ananya let out a whimpering moan, her body shifting, her cheeks red. Everyone stared at my ass, watching my sister spank me. This was so degrading. Why did that make my pussy even wetter?

"Two," I moaned, hating the words, my pussy clenching. "Thank you, Sara." God, it sucked saying those words.

Crack!

"Damn, not so hard," I moaned, tears burning my eyes.

"It's your punishment," she cooed. "And what do you say?"

"Three, thank you, Sara." Tears trickled down my cheeks. Juices leaked out of my pussy. Why was I so turned on?

Crack!

"Four, thank you, Sara.

Smack!

"Five, thank you, Sara," I said, breathing out relief. I wanted to bury my face into the my hands and hide from everyone's watching eyes.

"You're welcome, Janhvi," she said, stroking my ass. "Now what do you say?"

"I..." I didn't know what to say.

"Why did I spank you?" Her hand squeezed my aching ass.

I gasped, bucked. "I'm sorry for calling you a bitch."

"You're forgiven." She slid her hand down my thigh. "Now the real fun begins."

"Fun?"

Spank!

My eyes widened. Pain exploded in my ass. Cherry's hand was bigger and struck harder. My poor flesh stung. I bucked and squirmed on him, crying out in pain, the tears flowing faster. My virgin pussy clenched so hard.

Why did it feel so good?

"One, thank you, Cherry," I moaned, shuddering. Saying those words, feeling his cock, was so demeaning and yet... They felt right.

Smack!

His hand fell even harder, landing on my other butt-cheek. I clenched them both, squirming, my pussy brimming with pain. Sara's hand shifted on my thigh, pushing between them, her touch so soothing.

"Two, thank you, Cherry," I sobbed, tears pouring down my cheeks.

Crack!

"Three, thank you, Cherry!" My clit tingled. The heat gathered in my pussy, the pain transforming into something different.

Slap!

"Four, thank you, Cherry!" The pain rushed into my mind. Shivers ran through my body. It felt...good. Like the high I reached while jogging, my legs burning, my sides aching, my heart beating.

Smack!

"Five!" I screamed out, the pain and pleasure washing through my mind. They were linked, flipping from one to the other.

Sara's hand crept up my thighs.

Crack!

"Six!" I moaned, grinding on his hard dick. He was throbbing for me. He wanted me.

Sara's fingers brushed the wet curls of my pussy.

"Thank you, Cherry!"

Smack!

My bucking body rubbed my hot cunt on my sister's digits. Pleasure rippled out of my cunt, meeting the stinging pain from my ass at the same moment. I moaned, my head tossing back. Why did this feel so good?

"Seven, thank you, Cherry!"

My sister stroked my pussy. "Oh, she's dripping wet, Cherry. The little slut is getting off on this."

Her words were so humiliating. My sister was touching me while my cousin spanked me. Aunt Shriya and Ananya watched, their eyes so hungry. They licked their lips. I was just a thing. An object for their pleasures.

My cunt clenched.

Crack!

"Eight!" I screamed, Sara rubbing harder at my pussy. "Thank you, Cherry!"

She found my clit, massaging it as my ass ached. My thoughts drifted higher from my body. The pleasure built in me. A humiliating orgasm. I would cum in front of everyone. They would all watch. They would all know I was a slut.

Smack!

"Nine!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, my back arching. Sara rubbed harder at my clit. The sensations rushed through me. "Thank you, Cherry!"

I trembled. I was on the cusp of something amazing. Something I had never experienced Something truly special.

I heard the air whoosh as Cherry's hand crashed down for the final spanking. I tensed, eager. The loud crack echoed through the room. The pain shot through my bruised ass, slamming straight to my virgin pussy. Sara's fingers rubbed at my clit, the sparks from her fingers crashing into the pain.

"Ten!" I screamed as my orgasm exploded in the depths of my pussy. "Thank you, Cherry!"

Such humiliating pleasure shot through me. They all saw me cum. They all watched me thrash on my cousin's lap, my sister's fingers stroking my pussy. They all heard the screams of pleasure exploding from my mouth. Not pain.

Rapture.

Ecstasy.

It slammed into my mind. Such joy I had never experienced while masturbating. Such rapture that had my head swaying back and forth. I bucked and moaned, stars exploding across my body. I drifted in a new space, a place of pleasure and pain, a place of wonder and delight.

I felt my body move, but I was separate from it. Like it was not my body at all, my thoughts flying through rapture. I was on the couch, my burning butt-cheeks pressed into the cushions. Cherry was over me, holding my thighs apart. Sara unzipped his pants.

His dick flopped out, hard and erect. He was going to fuck me.

"Yes," I heard myself scream. "Fuck me, Cherry. I was such a brat. Punish me."

His hand went to my chin, lifting my dazed head. He stared into my eyes, into my soul. There was such commanding power in him. He pinned me with his gaze as I felt his cock rub at my pussy, Sara guiding him to my hymen. The touch of his dick on my virgin cunt yanked my thoughts back into my flesh.

"You are my slut, aren't you?" he snarled.

"Yes," I howled, not thinking, only reacting, only doing what my body needed. "Your slut."

He thrust into me. I hardly felt the pain of my hymen tearing over the burning agony raging across my disciplined ass. His cock slammed into my virgin depths. The friction sent a new wave of rapture slamming into my mind.

I clenched down on his girth. He was in me so deep. He filled me up. My thighs wrapped about his waist as he drew back and fucked into me again. Hard, fast strokes. He didn't care if he hurt me. If my pussy ached each time he slammed into me. He just had to cum in my cunt.

Use me.

I was his slut.

"Fuck me," I howled as my mind drifted on rapture and pain. My entire body was a sponge, drinking in sensations. "Slam your cock in me. Cum in me. Use me."

"Yes, use the fucking brat," Sara hissed beside him. Her fingers shoved up beneath my tank top and pushed aside my sports bra. She found my nipples, pinching and twisting them hard.

My pussy clenched so hard on Cherry's dick as my sister twisted my nipples. I howled and moaned, humping against my cousin as he slammed his dick into my spasming pussy. So much sensations shot through me.

He pounded me hard, driving my burning ass into the couch. It creaked as he plowed me. His groin smacked into my clit. The nub ached. He bruised my pussy with the force of his fucks. He growled in anger, still punishing me with his wonderful cock. I savored it. Everyone watched me, everyone knew I was his shameful slut.

"Your slut!" I howled at the top of my lungs as another orgasm spilled through me at saying those shameful, degrading words. "Use me. Fuck me!"

"Dump your cum in the slut's cunt," Sara hissed, twisting my nipples hard, the pain flaring, crashing into the rapture rippling out of my pussy.

"Yes," Cherry growled. "You've been such a brat, slut. Such a pain in the ass. It's time you made up for it, Janhvi. I own this cunt. I own your body. I can do anything to you!"

"Anything!" I howled, tossing my head back and forth. "Oh, yes, just keep fucking me. Using me. Spank me when I'm a brat. Fuck me when I tease you. Oh, god, this cock!"

"Little slut," Sara hissed, her fingers twisting my nipple hard. "I bet you would love to be pissed on."

"Yes," Cherry growled, driving his dick into me. "Covered in piss."

My legs squeezed about his hips. My pussy exploded on his dick at the humiliating thought. Covered in piss... Filthy. Another orgasm rippled through me on the heels of the last. I howled out wordless pleasure as his dick kept hammering into me. My cousin's huge cock.

"Fuck her, big brother," Ananya shouted. "Fuck our sister."

"Yes, that's your brother fucking you," moaned Sara right before she captured my lips with a possessive kiss.

My brother? The thought danced through my mind. A moment of clarity, a memory of Uncle Chandu kissing my mother, shot through me. Was that I why didn't know my father? Because Uncle Chandu was my dad all along?

My brother was fucking me? My big, sexy, commanding brother?

I moaned into my sister's kiss, the pleasure rippling over and over through my body. His cock hammered so deep into me. My pussy spasmed on his dick. I milked him. I needed him to cum in me. To fully use me. I was his slut.

I broke the kiss. "Cum in me! Cum in your slut-sister's cunt, Cherry! Dump it in me!"

"Give the bratty slut what she needs!" Sara howled. Cherry's hand was buried in her jeans, rubbing her pussy to an orgasm.

Cherry groaned, slamming into me. He kissed me hard, claiming my lips. I tasted orange juice and something else. A spicy musk I didn't recognize. His cock buried into the depths of my formerly virgin cunt.

And unloaded.

My brother came in me.

A final orgasm shuddered through me. I heaved beneath Cherry, my ass burning from his discipline, my pussy spasming from his dominance. I milked out every drop of his cum. I was his slut. His bratty whore.

"Damn," Cherry groaned, breaking the kiss. "You are something else, little slut. You cum hard."

"Uh-huh," I moaned, my eyes fluttering. "Did you mean that?"

"Mean what?" he groaned, his dick softening in me.

"That you would...piss on me." My pussy clenched hard. It would be so humiliating. "I...I..."

"The little slut wants it," Sara chortled. She twisted my nipples hard.

"Yes!"

To be continued...

 

[hotaks]

#Devika Sanjay

I was aged 19 then, blooming into a youthful beauty. This happened all of a sudden, one day after I returned home from school. That day when I returned from school, in the falling afternoon, I found a tall fair stranger with my mom. He must be aged around 40. He was not a stranger to be more precise.

I saw him in our house before that day but I actually did not know who that person was. I just saw his comings and goings and never felt the need to ask mom who that person was.

But that day, unlike other days, that person, while chatting with my mom, took a special note of me and asked me in which class I was studying and such trivial things. He talked to me in a very pleasant way.

Later that day, I asked mom who the person was. Mom answered that he was a distant uncle and that day he came to our house in order to invite us to attend a ceremony he was organizing at his residence which was a few miles away from our home.

My mom’s reply was satisfactory for a less inquisitive girl like me and I did not ask anything further. I had many things to concentrate upon such as my school, studies, attractions that my blooming youth was drawing from the boys in the school and so on.

As promised on that expected day, that uncle sent us his car to pick us up from home. Uncle had a really generous heart I observed; in order to fetch such a distant relative like us, he bothered to send his own car!

This gesture of warm hospitality meant a lot in those days when seeing our financially crumbled family all of our near and dear blood relations turned their faces away.

I felt very restless and my heart began thumping heavily as the car approached, as it had been a very long time since I attended such a gorgeous party.

As I was tiring my brains out as to what to wear for that special occasion, mom told me that my uncle had gifted me a dress for that special occasion. My heart was filled with joy to hear from mom about the gift from my uncle. It was really a blessing to have such an uncle.

Mom told me that the car had arrived and we might be getting late if I started to wear the dress at home itself. She advised me to wear the dress when we reach uncle’s house.

We reached uncle's house. It was like a palace. People were working everywhere. But there was any sign of a grand celebration.

The sheer enormity of the house and the number of people working there lead us to think that some celebration was going to be held very soon. But all of them seemed to be working their daily chores; there was not a single trace of festive excitement in their appearances.

Uncle came and led us to a room where we rested ourselves. The sun was also going to rest in the west. We chatted for a while. And when mom blurted out to him about my dress for the event, he readily asked mom to lead me to a room where I could change my dress.

We entered the room. I bolted the door from behind and started to unpack the dress to see what type it was. Meanwhile, mom told me she would just be back from the attached toilet of the room.

I was very curious about the dress firstly because it was a gift from an uncle whom I knew so little. From my point of view, he could be a stranger. Secondly, for a curious reason which I don’t know, mom had asked me not to wear any inners.

As I unpacked the dress, to my amazement I found that the dress was a sleeveless semi-transparent kurta. I could not make any head or tails of it.

I never wore such a dress even when I went to sleep at night. And now, how could I wear that when I am at someone’s home? Such thoughts were running through my mind when I found my mom reappearing from the toilet.

I took a deep breath and told mom that there was something wrong. I have been given such a semi-nude dress which will reveal my curvaceous body more perfectly than even when I am naked! Mom also seemed in deep trouble.

But finally, she said, “See Devika, these are big people. They have invited us to their home which is a great pleasure in itself. Uncle has also gifted you this dress and we have told him about this and now if you can’t wear this, it may be an act of insult to him. We never know the moods of such rich people – this time happy and the next moment making a face like a dog’s behind. Please, sweetheart, do wear the dress and save me.”

I removed my clothes and started to wear the new one. After I wore the dress, I looked at myself in the mirror. OMG! It was so revealing! I myself felt ashamed to look at myself in the mirror.

The dress was sleeveless and there were very thin straps on the shoulders. There was a deep front cut that made the deep canyon between my swelling boobs clearly visible. The nipples of my round bulbous boobs could be easily seen through.

The dress molded over my boobs and abdomen tightly so that the gentle uphill journey from my abdominal plain to the tall ridges of the nipply mountains would be the first thing that people would look at.

And on the backside, it was so deep that the cut almost reached the abdominal position from behind; thus the very thin strap on the shoulders and the deep cut made it very difficult for me to hold the dress on my shoulder in position with confidence.

I was always afraid the dress may slip from my shoulder. As I was looking downwards towards my hip, my mom told me that she will be back in a while. I was casting a fearful glance towards the nether part of the dress to know whether any other artistic dread was awaiting me there.

As expected, the height of the dress was significantly short. The embroidered fringes of the dress were barely carelessly hanging around the midsection of my thigh. But what could I do? Uncle gave it and mom asked me to wear it. And I had to be obedient.

After wearing that dreadful dress, I was waiting for my mom to return. I waited for a long time but she was not coming. Then after a long time, I saw my uncle entering the room. I felt so awkward that I covered my boobs with my hands as if I were naked. But uncle was quite normal, maybe in his culture, this sort of dress was very common.

He said to me, “Your mom is a little busy downstairs. Maybe she will be late. Could we talk for a while if she is occupied?” I replied, “Yes”.

Then he asked me to sit on the sofa. I was a bit hesitant to sit as uncle himself was standing. Sensing my discomfort, uncle was too advanced to sit. Thus we both sat on the sofa.

Uncle was sitting on my left. It was a two-seater. When we sat, naturally uncle’s body touched mine as it was a two-seater. I felt an electric current pass through my body. Wearing a semi-transparent dress and being confined within a room with a stranger contributed to all this electrifying experience!

However, we sat in that position – my shoulder freely rubbing with uncle’s arm. I started chatting about what I like and what I don’t like etc.

In the meantime, a servant entered the room with some drinks and placed the drinks on the tea table in front of the sofa. Uncle offered me the drinks. But I politely declined as I was taught to decline food offers from strangers.

But uncle insisted and I also found that the drink served seemed very familiar – my mom sometimes drank that type of drink. So, finding a hint of similarity, I took the glass and started to sip.

Uncle also took another glass. But the taste of the drink seemed so strange – a little tough but there was a tinge of sweetness. I drank it all and the servant asked whether I needed more. I nodded and drank another glass. Meanwhile, uncle drank three glasses. But still, there was no sign of mom.

Maybe because of the drink, I started sweating. The flimsy dress was getting moist with my sweat and seemed to be glued to my body as if water was poured on it. Sensing this calamity, I asked uncle if the AC could be switched on. He said, “Of course, but in that case, the door should be shut properly”. I said, “It’s okay”.

Then he jammed the door from within and switched on the AC. Meanwhile, my dress got further drenched in sweat and my nipples could clearly be seen. I pondered, what a terrible situation I was in – my dress glued to my body with each and every hidden and open curve exposed to public view while I was locked in a room with a stranger uncle.

Uncle sat beside me and switched on the TV. A romantic scene was being shown on TV.

I found my brain getting a little hazy and my body seemed weightless and flying with the wind. This time when uncle’s body touched mine, the touch was not so electrifying but it gave some sort of strange pleasure. And from my heart, I wished uncle would touch me and shake me vehemently.

Slowly, as the TV was playing an unending romantic scene, my hazy head was lurching in drowsiness. Uncle placed his right hand on my shoulder. He slowly rubbed my shoulder with his careful hands and we were still chatting – God knows what!

Slowly, the strap on my shoulder fell down exposing my bare fleshy arm. He pressed my arm with such a force that it felt like his hands would crush my arm. He then carefully passed the strap down and down from the elbow to my wrist. And finally, with a little effort, the dress slid down my fingers.

My right hand was free from clothing now and my right boob was peeping from the gentle covering of the semi-transparent smooth cloth. Uncle then gently moved his right hand inwards towards my right boob and started peeling off the gentle covering of cloth and began gently caressing it.

 

[hotaks]

Then I came back to senses. With all my strength, I placed my left hand on my exposed right boob and applied my right hand on my uncle's right hand and started distancing it from my peeping right boob.

Uncle also sensed my reluctance and put to action his idle left hand. He placed his left hand on my left hand and started a similar distancing attempt from my right boob. On the other hand, his right hand aggressively came on my right boob to reclaim its earlier position and started repressing it. All my energy seemed to have faded.

Instantly, he moved to further action. His left hand released my left hand. I thought he gave in. But to my surprise, I found that further calamity awaited me down there between my legs which were not covered with panties.

Uncle with his left hand started to feel the area between my legs. Both my hands rushed to his left hand to dissuade it from any further action. When my hands reached there, I found his left hand had left the area between my legs and was now pressing my left boob through the semi-transparent cloth.

I found both my boobs occupied and pressed very hard. With his tight grip on my boobs, uncle tightly held me from behind and lifted me by my boobs and seated me between his legs.

Then he gripped me from behind by placing both his legs around my waist and his left hand removing the strap from my left shoulder.

My left hand hopelessly clanged on my left boob in order to protect it from any further pressing; little realizing the fact that arrangements for harder pressing were being made with the removal of straps from my left shoulder.

The strap from the left shoulder was removed. He gave the strap a violent tug from beneath. I felt the flimsy cover over my left boob gone at once and the boob started dangling.

I saw his left hand holding half torn pieces of the cloth while his right hand holding another shred. And I discovered myself sitting naked in a strange uncle’s lap while a gust of cold wind from AC sent a shiver throughout my naked body.

When I was thinking about this bizarre situation, I felt uncle’s left hand between my legs again. He thumped between my legs, slowly caressing there. And then, all of a sudden, he placed his finger on my pussy entrance. I waggled ferociously due to the sensation.

Uncle slowly entered me. “Ahhhhhh” “Ahhhh”. Sensing that I was enjoying,he inserted deeper and started finger fucking me. I was overwhelmed with the maiden sensation of a foreign finger moving in and out of my vagina. His tightening grip over me also loosened.

He then reactivated his right hand in pressing my right boob and drew his face close to my left boob and started sucking it. It was the first time a man was touching me in that manner and I was moaning heavily, “Ahhhhhhhh… Ahhhhh… Ahhhh”.

He continued in that position for more than ten minutes – clasping me between his legs and his left-hand finger fucking me and my right boob pressed and the left sucked. I was moaning with that ecstatic heavenly pleasure, “Ahhhhhhhh” “Ohhhhooo” “Ahhhh”. But still, there was no sign of mom.

Fortunately, the room had an AC system or otherwise, my ecstatic shriek could have pierced anyone’s ear who was within the building premise.

Uncle continued for more than ten minutes and then rose and lifted me from the ground and laid me on the bed. He then got undressed. He took off his shirt and then his pants too. Similar to me, he too was not wearing any underwear.

Now things seemed to be unfolding – mom’s unexplained and prolonged absence, no accidental knock on the door and finally, our mutual consent to forego underwear. But OMG! Such a huge tool uncle had – approximately 8-inches long!

He was stroking his manhood with his left hand and it seemed to get longer and longer. I had never seen any man naked in my life so his proud display of manhood, that too, 8 inches long, made me very nervous. I felt my whole body was heating like anything and I was sweating copiously even in 25 degrees AC temperature.

Slowly, uncle came over to me and kissed me on my lips. I also started to respond after a few seconds.

He then brought his tool before my mouth asking me to take it in. I felt nauseous seeing the pissing apparatus placed on my mouth! “No, please”, I said. But he seemed to be in no mood to listen.

I opened my mouth and he slid his dick in my mouth till my throat which seemed to choke me. Instantly, the disgusting smell of piss and dirt filled my mouth. He stroked for 10 minutes more and then withdrew.

Then he threw his full body on mine and started to press my boobs very hard with his chest. I was moaning, “Ahhhh” “Ahhhhhhh” “Ahhhhhh”. Then he knelt and bending a little, he came on my boobs. His both hands started kneading my boobs harder and harder as if he was squeezing out every drop of liquid in my boobs if there was any.

Then he placed his mouth on my right boob and sucked it, pressed the nipple between his upper and lower teeth. I shouted, “Ahhhhhhhhh”. It pained like hell.

He closed his upper and lower jaw on my nipple and started plucking at it as if he was tearing away my protruding nipple. “Ohhhhh.. nooooo”, I shouted and thrust my right hand in order to free my tender nipple from that beastly smite.

But uncle hung on making me wriggle with pain. However, after a minute, he let my right boob go and all of a sudden, he pressed his mouth on my left boob like a calf exchanging the dried up nipple for a succulent one. He started chewing my left nipple.

“Ahhhhhh” “Ahhhhhh” “Ahhhhh”, I was moaning in terrible excitement.

After a while and when he got tired of chewing my nipples, he positioned himself between my legs. I pleaded, “Uncle, slowly please..This is my first time.” He nodded.

He gently rubbed his penis on my vaginal entrance. Then he pushed it in and out. It felt like tearing its way into me. After several short strokes, uncle suddenly gave a mighty thrust and he was completely in.

“Ohhhhh…nooooo… please, uncle, let me goooo” I was shouting in pain. He then assured me that he was completely in. Then he slowly pushed it in and out, in and out, and in and out. rhythmically. After that, I also started enjoying it and was moaning, “Aahhhhhhh” “Ahhhhhhh” “Ahhhhhhhhhh” “Ahhhhhhhhhh”.

He was fucking me gently while his mouth was firmly pressed against my breasts, sucking, chewing and plucking them. The room filled was with the sound of his groin thumping against mine, “thap, thap, thap”

Uncle was such a great fucker – he was fucking my pussy like a machine in a beautiful rhythm and I was moaning non-stop. It was like heaven.

I cummed several times but he kept fucking me. After thirty minutes or so, he suddenly straightened his dick and began jerking heavily and moaning, “Ahhhhhhhhh” Ahhhhhhhh” and came inside me.

Uncle was now lying prostrate on me for several minutes and then his penis slowly came out of me like stool from anus. We then hugged and kissed each other.

It seemed heaven had descended upon us. We were tranquil like a devastated forest after a heavy storm.

Then we took a bath and had dinner. And after dinner, there was another bout of storms.

I stayed with my uncle for seven days. But still, there was no sight of mom. But this time, I was quite happy. I didn’t have the heart to go but as my uncle was going out of station for some business purpose, I had to leave uncle and return home.

THE-END

 

[hotaks]

Pranitha Subhash -- Newly Married Bride

My name is Narayan. I was 47 years old, but as life had been very harsh on me, the weight of the harshness had made me look older.

Born and raised in a low economic background, educated at a dingy dusty public school, and with no college degree, I wasn't in a chance for a decent job. Somehow, due to some contact of my relative, I had been appointed on a contractual basis as a coach in-charge in the railways, as soon as I was out of school. After getting a job, my parents had married me off to some random girl from our native village.

So, at the age of 18 years, I had started working, earning and giving my meagre income to my parents. By a stroke of good luck, the railways appointed all contractual workers like me on a permanent basis. Out of nowhere, I had a permanent job, small quarters in a worker's railway colony and a pretty decent salary. My wife and I moved into the quarters.

My marriage wasn't a happy one. First of all, I had been married to some ugly village girl whom my relatives had deemed fit for me. Secondly, she couldn't adapt to life in the city. Thirdly, she couldn't bear me any child. I had to fuck her as she was my wife, but she failed to excite me.

I had to arouse myself by thinking of the beautiful memsahibs I saw in the trains when I was on duty. All of them traveling in those AC compartments used to be so fair, beautiful and charming. They wore a variety of clothes, wore a variety of fragrances, and showed a large amount of skin. I would get an erection just by seeing them; sniffing them as they walked around in 'my' compartment would make me cum with pleasure. And with such a narrow aisle, some brushing and touching was inevitable, I took full advantage of the opportunities presented to me. Usually, I put myself in such positions where some brushing and touching was inevitable.

For twenty years, I lived my life like this. When I was on duty as a coach in-charge, I would survey all the goods on offer in my coach, fix my attention on the most beautiful memsahib, and then masturbate to her thoughts, lying on my jump bed in the vestibule outside the AC compartment. In the mornings, when the train reached its destination and all passengers had disembarked, I would masturbate again, this time wrapping my memsahib's bed sheet around my face. When I was at home, I would fuck my wife, all the while imagining her to be that memsahib.

Many times, I masturbated in close proximity to these memsahibs. When they would come out into the vestibule and wait for their turn to use the toilet, I would, sitting on my jump bed under a blanket, be stroking my penis, ejaculating at the thought of fucking them.

Some of the memsahib's were very nice. They wore short and tight clothes, bent carelessly to show a lot of cleavage and also occasionally flirted with me. But most of them were mean bitches. They were rude to the 'low class' people that worked on the coaches, like me, the coach in-charge or the luggage porters. They would shout and yell, scolding at petty things or mundane issues. This built up a weird frustration inside me, which I relieved by masturbating at the thought of raping those mean bitches.

Then, ten years ago, my life changed. My wife passed away, a severe dengue infection took her life. After that, my sexual desire used to be left unsatisfied. I tried the red light areas, but to no avail. Despite frequent masturbations and visit to brothels, I felt hungry for a real vagina. One night, I did it.

She was one of those mean bitches, shouting away uselessly at me for things beyond my control. First, I masturbated, as I had done all these years, to relieve my frustration. But it was pent up inside my head, and in my balls. She went to the toilet after dinner and I pounced at her, violating her, releasing my pent up frustration inside a married woman's vagina. That first time, it was untidy. I felt scared to death. What if she complained? But, she had gone back quietly, head hung in shame.

It was then that I came to realize the power I held over such married bitches -- they would not let such an incident ruin their family life.

Such an incident -- a low class man raping a high class woman, violating her womanhood, filling her with his unworthy semen, was seldom reported; as these high class women were ashamed of the fact that their family, relatives, everyone in the society would come to know of their ordeal. This thinking was even more valid for the newlyweds, who hadn't even established their places in their new family, where every member analysed their each and every move. They were like sitting ducks for my new found hobby. Also, I didn't do any visual damage or took away anything that would require elaborate explanations from them to their husbands or families.

Usually women woke up for a pee once every night, more so towards the morning hours. I was always on the alert, looking up and down the aisle, waiting to pounce on my 'wife' for that night. Just scare a bit, a quick fuck, a bra or panty as a souvenir -- I had all of them at my home, labelled with their names and berth numbers; and I was done.

After I was done with them, they were more worried about the fact of concealing their ordeal than the ordeal itself.

Pulling a few strings, I had managed to get my posting on the 'honeymoon special', an overnight express train to the foothills of Himalayas, where newly married couples went to celebrate their honeymoon. The AC coaches of this train swarmed with the type of meat I absolutely devoured.

With each woman I 'married', I perfected my technique, picking the ones which were absolutely certain for anonymity. Elated with my approach and encouraged by the results, my sexual appetite also grew. One 'wife' per night was an absolute surety, whereas during peak wedding seasons, I managed two to three each night. That I tell you is the ultimate job satisfaction.

That day, I saw her get onto the carriage with her husband. I saw her occupy her berth. I looked up her berth number on the reservation chart. I knew that my 'wife' for that night was, as my penis tingle with excitement for the first time that night, Pranitha.

HER: My name is Pranitha. I was a newly married 26 year old woman. Married just three days ago, I was on my way to our honeymoon to a nearby hill station. Sitting on the lower berth in an AC 2 tier compartment of an overnight express train, with my husband sitting beside me, I was staring at my reflection in the train's huge glass window. The reflection in the glass window made me reflect on my life till then.

Born in a typical middle-class Indian family and being an only child, I had been raised like a princess. My mother said that I was the apple of her eyes. Although slightly pampered throughout my childhood, I had grown into a fine mature girl by the time I was eligible for marriage.

 

[hotaks]

Praised for my beauty from the time of my birth, I had developed into an attractive woman after puberty. And adolescence had put the icing on the cake. By the time of my last teen birthday, I had, to put it bluntly, 'ripened' perfectly. I was medium built with average Indian height, very fair skin, dark eyes, and jet black shoulder length hair. My breasts were of the perfect size for my build; neither too big nor small, firm and round. My hips had grown in size at a rapid pace my puberty; now their curves accentuated my near perfect hour-glass figure. But the icing was not the final thing; there was one more thing to top it, the cherry over the icing.

From an early age itself, I had been aware of my sensuality and the effect it had on men around me. Heads turned as I walked, and they stayed turned for a while. I had even won the 'Miss Fresher' title at my Fresher's Party at college; and had gone on to win 'Miss Beauty Queen' title in all subsequent annual day functions.

Having said that, I must remind you that I had been born and raised in a typical middle-class Indian family. That meant almost nil interaction with the opposite sex, wearing traditional attire or non-exposing tops. Figure hugging clothing, tights, jeans or tops, were strictly forbidden.

Throughout my school and college life, I never had a boyfriend. Although no one said anything directly to me, but I knew I was the subject of ridicule amongst my friends, regarding the iron clasp control my parents had over me.

After college, my parents started to search for the perfect groom for me. Matrimonial columns were printed, relatives and friends put to task to find a suitable match for me who fulfilled the criteria of religion, caste, occupation, income, family background, his father's occupation/income, and many more such things parents look for in a man they deem fit to have sex with their daughter; but not his looks or actual personality. There are so many criteria and sub-criteria that it was almost 2 years before my parents could narrow the choices down to a handful of 'eligible' bachelors; another six months in finalizing my 'perfect match'; then a full year before both could agree to each other's terms and conditions.

So, finally, after a lot of drama, I got married at the age of 27 years. My 'perfect match' was a relatively short man, three years older to me, dark; and with a slight belly already pouring out his lower abdomen. He had a 'stable' job and had studied in one of India's most prestigious institutions. According to my parents, relatives, and friends of relatives, I could not have found a better husband for myself.

My first night as a married woman was uneventful. Of course, both of us lost our virginities to each other; and awkwardly brought each other to orgasms. Well, that's the case with two virgins of the opposite sex, in their twenties, allowed to sleep together for the first time. We both agreed that there was a long way to go in our sexual lives and that this was just the beginning of an erotic journey.

And so, to make sure our erotic journey was off to a flying start, we were headed for our pre-planned honeymoon to a hill-station nested in the Himalayas. And here I was, staring at myself in the train window!

It was time to sleep, the curtains were pulled and the lights switched off. My husband climbed to the upper berth and I lay down on the lower one, blissfully aware that this vertical separation between us would not be there the next night.

THEN: Pranitha woke up, realizing that she needed to go to the washroom, and looked at her watch in the dim light coming from the other side of the curtain. It was 3 AM by her watch. Not wanting to disturb her husband, she quietly got up and groped for her sandals in the dark. He was sleeping soundly.

Stepping into the aisle without any noise, she headed straight to the washroom to her right, as they were nearer. Everyone was fast asleep; it seemed there was no movement in the whole carriage, except for a lovely married lady heading to answer nature's call.

Reaching the well-lit vestibule, she opened the door . Damn, she thought, as she let out a gush of urine! She should have taken a pee before going to sleep.

Annoyed at the break in her sleep, but now well relieved, she headed back to the vestibule to go back to her berth. But to her surprise, the well-lit vestibule moments ago was now dark.

Stumbling, and aided by a flicker of light coming from inside the carriage, she took a couple of tentative steps, before that she was almost knocked off her feet!

At first it seemed to be a crash, she thought that the train had met with an accident and that she had been jolted backwards by its force. But then, she became aware of a tight grip around her waist and also a rough palm over her mouth. Now inside the Washroom on the other side of the vestibule which was well-lit, she became fully aware of her situation.

It wasn't a train crash! A man had appeared out she was heading back. She had been grabbed from behind; a strong palm put over her mouth, and pulled into the Washroom. It was a small space, as most of it was occupied by the toilet seat. She was being held in such a manner that her back was towards the mirror, and she couldn't see his face.

In reflex, she began to scream into the palm of her captor, making a muffled noise; at the same time wriggling her body, trying to free herself from his grip.

He loved it when women struggled, even more so when they had no chance of escaping what was in store for them. He turned her left by ninety degrees almost effortlessly and pinned her to the wall. Then he let go of the grip around her waist, knowing perfectly well that his weight was more than enough to prevent her from moving. He fumbled in his pocket and took out a small pocket knife, which he held against his captive's neck. Make one noise and I'll cut your neck and throw you out of this moving train, he snarled. He was happy that it had the desired effect on her. He had scared her to death.

Just do as I say and you wouldn't get hurt, he said, still pushing her against the wall.

He took out a piece of cloth from his pocket and tied it around her mouth, threatening her as he let go of his palm grip. Without even a try of scream from her, he had managed to replace her gag from his palm to the piece of cloth. Now, he released the hold on her body and made her turn around, forcing her to sit on the open Western style toilet seat. In seconds, he grabbed hold of her dupatta and used it to tie her hands to the water pipe behind the toilet seat. Tying the dupatta tightly around one wrist, he flung it around the water pipe, to bring it back in front and tied it around her other wrist. He had managed to complete the most precarious part of his task, the capture of his victim, within a couple of minutes.

He then stepped back as far as the small washroom would allow him to admire his handiwork.

The moment he had seen her step onto the carriage, he had known that he wanted her, very very badly. He saw her as a typical newlywed woman on her way to the hill station, to get fucked by her husband. He noticed the mehendi, still fresh on her hands (right upto her elbows); her traditional pink salwar suit along with a dupatta ; a streak of red vermillion on her forehead just where her hair parted; her new mangalsutra which dangled proudly in front of her breasts; her hands almost full with designer bangles; and most importantly, the most natural ornament on her face -- the mole near her upper lip.

 

[hotaks]

He had her now, at his disposal, ready for his moment with this newlywed beautiful sophisticated lady, some other man's wife.

The past couple of minutes had been a blur for Pranitha. Pulled into the toilet, gagged, held against the wall, gagged, and then tied, everything happened so fast that she didn't have time to register it. She became acutely aware of her situation when her captor stepped back, and looked her up and down, an evil smile forming on his face. Her hands were painfully tied to the water pipe behind her, in a very uncomfortable position.

It was then that she had her first look at that man, her captor. She saw him as an old man (50-55 years, she guessed), medium built, and a bit short. His belly was very large, out of proportion to the rest of his body (in a better state of mind, Pranitha would have attributed that to chronic alcoholism!); it was almost spilling out of his shirt, which was unbuttoned all the way down to where his tummy bulge started. She saw his rough chest skin, covered with dense grey hair. She looked up to his face, which was wrinkled in a crude manner. His teeth, which she saw through that evil grin, were dirty, misaligned and eroded by constant chewing of tobacco. He was definitely not a man who belonged to an AC 2 tier compartment.

She saw him extend his evil smile; it was almost ear to ear now, making him look like an ugly goblin. Her mind was in a daze, unable to comprehend her position. But it was thrown into a frenzy, with panic and despair filling her entire skull, as she heard, even over the loud rumbling sound of the train, the sound of a zipper being undone.

Her eyes dropped to where her captor's hands were. After undoing his zipper, she saw him unbuckle his trousers. Her eyes, instead of following the trousers as they fell down to the ground in a flash, remain glued to where his hands were. He was not wearing anything underneath; his semi-erect penis had sprung out the moment he had undone his trousers, which his right hand was now stroking.

The moment of reality struck her. Her captor was going to turn into her rapist.

Pranitha screamed the loudest cry for help of her entire life. However, the perfect mouth gag and the loud rumble of the train made sure that none of the passengers sleeping soundly in the AC carriage heard it.

He saw her scream into the mouth gag. It made his semi-erect penis twitch with excitement. His mouth was wet with saliva, the tip of his penis with pre-cum. She gulped in desperation. He realized that the time window for his 'suhaag raat' was limited; he didn't have the luxury of time.

As his hands reached the knot of her salwar, she began to wriggle, like a fish does when taken out of water. He couldn't undo it as she was moving too much. With the back of his right hand, he slapped her right cheek violently. SMACK! And again, SMACK! Her body lumped at the ferocious attack, giving him time to undo her salwar with ease.

He pulled it all the way down her smooth milky legs and removed it completely, absent-mindedly putting it on a rack above the mirror, which Pranitha hadn't noticed before. Before she could recover from the double blow to her face, he hooked his rough fingers at the waistband of her new pink panty (part of set of sexy lingerie she had bought for her wedding and honeymoon), and pulled it swiftly down; consciously making sure to pocket it (in his front chest pocket).

He expected her to be shaved down there, as were most of the newlywed women. What he didn't expect was the feminine pinkness of her vulva lips, so beautiful and well, lady-like; it was one of the smoothest vulva's he had ever seen. His now almost-erect penis gave a bigger twitch of excitement.

He noticed her vulva was completely dry, which was a surprise to him. Normally, these newlyweds thought about sex 24x7, especially on the way to their honeymoons, fantasising about the sexual pleasures awaiting them; which made their vaginas ooze out sexuality, in anticipation for their imminent fucking. But that was not the case with her; maybe she wasn't turned on by her husband.

Hurriedly, he caught hold of the lower edge of her kurta and pushed it upwards, over her breasts, bundling it around her neck. He took his hands to her back, unhooking her pink bra, and immediately bringing them back to the front, in order to squeeze her just exposed heavenly breasts. He let out a moan of pleasure as he felt the smoothness of her young breasts, the taut milky white skin and perky pink nipples. Without much ado, he took the right one in his dirty mouth and started to suck with all his might; mauling and pinching the left one with his right hand. All this while, her mangalsutra oscillated in between her breasts.

The sensation of something wet brought Pranitha to her senses, which she hadn't completely regained since the slaps. She realized that that 'something wet' on her breast was the saliva of his captor, pouring out copiously from his dirty mouth. She tried to wriggle again, to free her breasts from the painful assault, but couldn't move an inch due to the grip which his captor had around her waist with his left hand.

Unable to move, she started shouting again into her gag. Hearing her muffled attempt at shouting for help, her captor let out a groan of self-accomplishment, a 'huh'!

Although he would have loved to play with such perfect breasts all night long, all nights for his entire lifetime, he didn't have much time at his disposal. Letting go of her breasts, he adjusted her body, pulling her off the toilet seat slightly, with his left hand holding her around her waist. He spread her legs apart, pushing at her smooth soft thighs with his dark hairy ones, and positioned himself between them. All this while, she tried to oppose every movement he was making, but she just didn't have the strength to match him. With his free right hand, he placed his fully erect penis at the entrance of her vagina, its moist pre-cum coated tip touching the lips of her pink vulva.

His penis gave the biggest twitch of excitement of the night while she shuddered with fear, desperation and despair.

 

[hotaks]

Still holding her by her waist with his left hand, he used his right one to guide the tip of his penis beyond her vulval lips, his penis throbbing with ecstasy at their tightness. He left it there, at the edge of her vagina, and moved his right hand to her face, which was ashen with fear. He gripped her jaw tightly with his right hand, forced her face straight, and aligned it with his own; their nose tips barely a centimetre away.

She smelt his ugly face before actually seeing it close up. He still had that evil smile etched all over it. He saw her beautiful face and read her fear. He could hear her desperate attempts at shouting for help, feel her feeble attempts at wriggling herself free from his grip, and then see her pearly tears roll down her elegant cheeks as she resigned to her fate.

Holding her jaw, he made sure her eyes were fixed on his own; as with one forceful thrust of his pelvis, he tore into her dry vagina.

She shrieked out in pain as his penis assaulted her dry vagina. Such was the force of his first thrust that his penis was almost completely embedded inside her the first time itself, she heard him release a low moan of pleasure.

He saw her eyes dilate in shock and heard her groan in pain. Bringing his penis almost all the way out of her vagina, he thrust again, this time a little less forcefully as it regained its original depth. Then, like a man possessed, he began to piston his penis in and out of her vagina, in forceful rough thrusts, grunting like a pig every time the tip of his penis hit her cervix.

She thought that this was her worst nightmare come true. With each thrust, she felt unbearable pain radiate from her vagina, to all over her body, right to her head. Her initial loud shriek of pain had given way to low groans, which were synchronised with his thrusts; almost as if the energy of his thrusts travelled all the way up to her throat, vibrating her vocal cords of their own accord.

He stared into her helpless eyes as he continued to thrust in and out of her vagina, which had now begun to respond to his assault. He could tell, by the decreased amount of force that was now required to piston in and out of her, that her vagina had begun to release her own sex juices. He could also feel the increased wetness around his throbbing shaft, and also on his thighs. She was really secreting a huge amount of juices, now, his every thrust made a sloppy noise in her copious juices. To his surprise, he heard her moan in pleasure into her gag. It was a low sound, but it was definitely a moan of pleasure. He immediately stopped his thrusts and withdrew his penis out of her dripping wet vagina.

She couldn't believe that her vagina had begun to respond to this assault, as if it had a mind of its own. After fear and despair, she now felt immense shame as her vagina was adjusting and accommodating his penis, trying to derive pleasure out of her rape. Maybe it was because of the slight repulsion she felt for her husband, maybe the feeling of being suppressed since childhood, maybe her womanhood needed an escape route. The initial pain had subsided; and with each and every thrust, she could now feel a wave of carnal pleasure radiate from her vagina, to all over her body, right to her head. She couldn't believe her ears as a low moan of pleasure escaped her lips. At that moment, he stopped fucking her and withdrew out of her vagina completely. To her surprise, her mind was swept by a wave of disappointment.

Bitch! Who do you think I am? Your husband! I am not here to pleasure you, he shrieked, anger sweeping his face. He had to do it now. He rarely did this to newlywed women. But he had to teach this 'whore' a lesson.

Before she could fathom the reason for his abrupt halt, she had been flipped over. If her earlier position had been uncomfortable, this was hell. Her dupatta got twisted more, increasing the pressure on her wrists; her shoulders were also twisted, making her delirious with pain. Her head now faced the dirty toilet seat, barely inches away; her mangalsutra hung down due to gravity and its lower end was well below the rim of the toilet seat, oscillating like a pendulum. Her knees were awkwardly bent, half her weight supported by the toilet seat. She felt her ass cheeks being drawn apart by his rough hands, and felt some wetness around her asshole. As she realized what was going to happen to her, she let out another shriek, her second last one that night.

He spread her meaty ass cheeks, exposing her pink asshole. The sight of her tight pink puckered asshole, the smooth surrounding hairless skin and the feel of her juicy ass cheeks, elicited another big twitch of excitement from his eager penis (even bigger than the one on touching her vulval lips). He was almost certain that she was an anal virgin, which made his penis twitch continuously. He, as well as his penis, was eager to violate this newlywed wife's anus and teach her a lesson.

He used the liquid soap in the toilet, to lubricate her asshole. He held her hair by both hands, pushed her further down so as to get her ass up at a proper angle; and positioned his penis at her anal entrance.

She let out the loudest shriek of the night when she felt his penis tear through her virgin asshole. If the earlier pain had made her delirious, this was intense enough to kill her. He poked at her asshole with increasing thrust, her tightness making it difficult for him to enter her anal canal. After a handful of pokes, her anal opening gave way and the whole length of his shaft entered her anal canal, with such a force that her head painfully banged against the water pipe behind the toilet seat.

It was as if her whole body was on fire, such was the intensity of the pain. She became a part of his thrusts inside her anal canal. With each thrust he gave, her body experienced its own mini earthquake, her head banged against the water pipe, her dangling breasts swivelled as if they would tear right off her body, her knees buckled; her eyes, which she had shut close to black out her mind, opened due to the forceful impact.

 

[hotaks]

Intermittently, during those moments when her eyes opened, she saw her mangalsutra, the sign of her harmonious matrimony, rubbing the inside of the toilet seat; each thrust making it scrape the seat more and more. All she could hear at that moment was the sound of that scraping. The sacred and pure necklace tied around her neck by her husband three days ago, was now being contaminated in the impurest of locations, both literally and figuratively.

He could feel the approaching orgasm. His breathing became laboured and he took in this moment of pure ecstasy; gripping her dangling breasts tightly, he licked her neck from behind, as he felt the bulbous head of his penis bulge inside her anal canal, releasing his semen inside.

He orgasmed in pure delight; ejaculated his semen in huge quantities, giving few secondary thrusts until all his juice had been milked out of his penis. It was one of the longest orgasms he had experienced, all the while moaning out in pleasure. Even after he had withdrawn his penis from this newlywed wife's anal canal, he was moaning in pleasure!

Hurriedly, he cleaned himself up, buckled his trousers, and made sure her panty was safely lodged in his shirt's pocket. Then he undid the dupatta from 'his' bride's wrists, who now lay slumped almost unconsciously into the Western toilet seat, and pulled her up. He made her sit up, all the while holding her lest she slumped again, and assessed the damage.

Her forehead was bleeding slightly due to the repeated impacts against the toilet pipe. He washed the cut with water, throwing a few fistfuls on her face in order to get out of her stupor. She was sitting on her own now, dimly aware of her situation, still dazed mentally. He poured a few more fistfuls of water on her face.

It was almost as if she felt herself rise from the grave. She was sitting on the toilet seat without any support, gradually regaining her mental functions. She was dimly aware of water being splashed on her face. She felt his hands doing the bra hooks behind her back; pulling her kurta down her front, back into its normal position; helping her legs into her salwar which he had retrieved from the shelf; arranging her dupatta in front of her breasts, hanging it from her shoulders; undoing her mouth gag. He stepped back again, as he had done before raping her, to look at her from top to bottom.

He took out a five hundred rupee note from his pocket and, inserting his hand behind the neckline of her kurta, placed it inside her bra, between both her breasts, in close proximity to her mangalsutra.

As a final act of violation, he licked the mole above her lips. "You were a great fuck, Pranitha!" he said, before leaving.

The sound of her first name being spoken by him brought her to reality. She immediately locked the toilet door from inside and looked at her in the mirror. There was a slight cut on her forehead, but it wasn't bleeding. She washed her face with water, again and again, till it became numb with cold. Scared, dazed and scarred, she couldn't think of anything else to do there. After making sure that her outer appearance was okay, she stepped back into the vestibule (now brightly lit again) and headed back to her berth.

There was no sign of the man who had altered her internal appearance forever. Everyone was sleeping soundly, exactly as before. As she stepped back on to her berth, she felt a blob of his semen ooze out of her asshole and at the same time became aware of something pricking the skin in her cleavage.

Lying down on her berth, panty-less, her ass cheeks wet with his semen, she retrieved the five hundred rupee note he had placed in her bra, as a payment for her services to him, making her 'his' whore! She looked at her watch; it read 3:20 AM. In just 20 minutes, Pranitha had been transformed from a newlywed wife to a cheap whore by a man who had forcefully violated her 'inner appearance'.

She closed her eyes, in an attempt to draw a curtain on the night's event; but she couldn't close her mind. She lay awake for the remaining part of the night, tightly clutching the five hundred rupee note in her right hand, as the voice of him calling her by her first name, reverberated in her ears.

THE-END