She was a housewife, married for the past seven years. Now, at the age of twenty nine, she was a mother of two, a home-maker. She was confined within the walls of her husband's house, sharing the house with a nagging mother-in-law, as most average Indian families did. Her all-day working husband left her at the mercy of his mother, who treated her not more like a sophisticated maid. Her all-working husband treated her like a sophisticated maid too, one who also served as his 'free prostitute'.
'Free' because she was married to him, he could fuck her whenever he wanted to, however he wanted to. 'Prostitute' because his fucks were, well, indifferent and unattached. She would lay under him as he would pump his small penis into her, without any foreplay, without any emotions, without any love. It was as if it was a burden for him which he had to get out of his balls. Having filled her with his semen (no condoms, of course), he would snore away to oblivion as she was left hanging, having to rub herself to orgasm through tears of sorrow. Her husband's cursory fucking had made her anhedonic.
But that was the not her only problem, was it. Her mother-in-law fucked her mentally, almost as if fucking her brain. From morning to night, she worked continuously. Preparing breakfast, sending the children to school, cleaning the house, cooking lunch, washing the utensils, taking care of the children's studies, making evening snacks, cooking dinner; all under the watchful and nagging eyes of her mother-in-law. This had been the story of her life, every day for the past seven years. Well, more or less, not every day actually. Saturday was her saviour. That one day every week was what had saved her. She would have been driven to insanity had she not discovered this method to release her mental and physical frustration.
It was Saturday. I woke up with a smile. After all today was my day. After finishing my morning chores and sending the children off to school, I headed straight to my room, eager to get ready, my eagerness bordering on impatience. A broad grin was all I could see in the mirror as I stood before it. Saturday was the day when I went to the market, to buy all household items required for the coming week. I could buy everything that was needed in the nearby local market, but I never did. Not since I had realized the importance of this day. I made it a point, giving one excuse or other, to go to the biggest market in the city. After all, it was my day.
“Let us begin the action!” he announced. I realized that I had closed my eyes due to fear, disgust or most probably, both. As my eyes were closed, it took me a moment to register that the book-wallah was tugging at the waist band of my panty. Before I could even open my mouth to register a protest, I heard the flimsy stitches on one side of my waist give away. My eyes, now fully open due to shock, saw the remains of my tattered panty being flung away. Even though I was now almost fully naked and in the grasp of a poor low class man, I could not help but feel sad at the state off my expensive lingerie!
I stood transfixed as my fully open eyes saw the projectile journey of my panty. The fact that my black delicate panty landed in a pool of ditch water made me wake up from my reverie.
“Listen bitch! Take off your kurta or it’ll meet the same fate as your panty!” he snarled, mouthing drops of spit on my face as he threatened me. NEVER!! Well, that’s what I thought at that moment but no words came out of my mumbling mouth. I, reflexively, began pulling at the lower edge of the kurta, keeping it in place. There was no way that I was going to dance to the whims and fancies of this disgusting illiterate man! “Well…if you want to go home naked…then I can’t help you…” his voice trailed off as he tugged the kurta on my right shoulder, “Let me get this off you in one go!” “Pl…please….pl….don’t do this!” I whimpered between sobs.
Tears were now freely pouring out of my eyes, lamenting at my helplessness. Either I had to give in to this brute’s demand, and stoop myself to a disgrace I had never even dreamt of or…the alternative made me shiver. It was better not to think about what would happen if the book-wallah tore off my kurta. The only garment that I would have in such a condition would be my salwar, which was heaped around my ankles. Scared by the prospect of being left naked in the busiest market of the city, my hands, the same ones which were pulling down at the edge of my kurta, now pulled it off my bra-less body in one rapid motion.
Impulsively, I brought the kurta in front of my body and tried to hide my breasts by folding my hands in front of them. I realized that now fully naked in a lane behind the market, my tears had dried up. The book-wallah snatched the kurta away from me and tossed it aside. Thankfully, it ended up well short of the ditch in which the remains of my panty now floated. The sight of my milky white breasts, with pinkish-brown nipples and areolae, had buoyed the spirits of the book-wallah. I could feel the heat of lust radiate from his body and saw the building of saliva in his unhygienic mouth. I was his treat and it was his duty to devour me.
Kneading my breasts with both his hands, he began to throw obscenities at me. “What a delicious bitch I have here! You were meant to be a whore! High-class slut, I’ll show you how a real man fucks!” he snarled in between his laborious breaths. His right hand left my breast and travelled down to between my legs. As soon as it reached my vulva, both the book-wallah and me, were shocked. My pussy was dripping wet! He let out a roar of laughter as I dropped my head in shame. “So, decent lady! What do we have here?” he sniggered. The fright of the past few minutes had drawn the earlier events of my ‘activities’ away from my mind. My exhibitionism to the same book-wallah who was seeing me now (and was surely going to fuck me in a few minutes), the four blowjobs in the crowded garden, the hijacking of my bra and the desire to bring myself to orgasm, came rushing back to mind. My knees gave way as I realized that my vulval lips were twitching for a cock!
Still sniggering, he said, “Looks like you have had enough of foreplay! Now turn around and I’ll show you how to fuck a bitch in heat!” I listened to his order and my mind refused to oblige. And…SMACK!! I felt it coming even before he had raised his hand. “Lesson number one, a nice whore is prompt to the demands of her fucker,” he said, and without waiting for a response, lifted me effortlessly off the ground by grasping at my waist and turned me around. The sudden jerk of the motion made my hands seek the support of the wall in front of me (which earlier had been behind me). I felt his hand on my back, pushing me down. This made my already prominent ass jut out and become even more prominent. “This is what I call nice meat,” he said, smacking my ass cheeks with the palm of his right hand. He continued smacking them for a good minute or so, I could feel them glow red due to the pushed.
“Please…don’t do this…it hurts…” I managed to mouth out in between smacks. “Lesson number two, a nice whore does not object to anything her fucker says or does,” he said, but thankfully, stopped spanking me. My thankfulness was replaced by disgust as I realized what was coming next.
He hit my thighs apart with his right hand. My head was hanging in between my arms, which were supporting me against the wall. I could see my salwar heaped around my ankles from that position. I felt bile rise in my throat when I saw that his lungi now occupied the place adjacent to my salwar. I gagged at the thought that the book-wallah was now naked too, right behind me.
My eyes snapped shut, my teeth clenched, I tried my best not to vomit and held my breath, as I felt the tip of his penis rubbing at the wet lips of my vulva. Even though my vulva was dripping wet, I could make out that his glans was soaking with precum as it released a sort of heat when it came in contact with my moist vulval lips. It may have been the stress, the fear or the helplessness of the moment, but whenever I replay the scene in my mind, I realize that it was me who had thrust my hips back, just slightly, to welcome the budging head of the book-wallah’s penis into the folds of my vulval lips and further inside my going-to-be-defiled body. My body was thrown forwards as the book-wallah slid his erect penis into my vagina. I had felt his body tense for the hard lunge into my womanhood, however, the combination of my dripping wet vulva and his precum soaked glans made it seem like a walkover. In one violently smooth motion, he was embedded inside me right till his base.
AAGHHH!! I heard his loud moan of pleasure as he gently rotated his pelvis, as if to get a good feel of the inside of my vagina. But, that was the end of the gentleness that he had in store for me, his decent lady! Enraged by a sudden animalistic lust, the book-wallah grabbed me powerfully at my right shoulder with his right hand, pulling my body backwards towards him. His left hand was wrapped tightly around my waist, below the level of my navel. I could feel the coarse hair on his arms scrape uncomfortably against my smooth skin. Satisfied with his clasping hold on my body, the book-wallah began fucking me in powerful, jerky and dominant strokes which made me scream out in pain.
NAHHIIIII!!!! NOOOO….!! PL…EASE….NA!!!!
My begging did not fall on deaf ears as he did respond to it, but that was only to increase the ferocity of his thrusts. With each thrust that the book-wallah took inside me, my whole body was pushed forwards, only to meet the resistance of his right hand on my shoulder, and bounce back towards his lunging penis. Thus, even without my participation in the seemingly random to-and-fro motion, my body was meeting his thrusts half-way.
