She was driving a little too fast on the highway, she realized, too eager to overtake a tractor in front of her. The tractor was pulling a trolley, which was cramped well over its capacity with labourers (presumably, heading back to their village after a tiring day in the city). She swivelled in and out of her lane, gearing up impulsively and then breaking precariously, right in the face of oncoming traffic, trying to squeeze her way past. It was getting dark; she was getting restless and irritated, a bit angry at herself. She was a doctor, posted at a small town outside the city where she lived with her husband and two children. She travelled up and down every day, a distance of forty kilometres each side, in order to go to work. She could have lived in the small town itself, in the campus of her hospital, but that would have meant staying away from her two adorable kids, aged three and five. She had decided to take this extra burden on herself in order to enjoy a peaceful family life. And usually, it was a driver who drove her up and down, but that day he was on leave.
She honked irritably at the tractor that was slowing her down, as she headed for her night shift. She preferred to be off the highway before darkness fell, but she had started late. She didn’t want to be late for her night shift. She managed to overtake the tractor on her next attempt, just managing to slide back into her lane as she approached an oncoming vehicle. The labourers on board the tractor cheered and clapped at her overtaking success, shouting something which was incoherent to her. She thought she would be relieved. With a clear road ahead, she would manage to reach her destination within an acceptable amount of delay. But what she saw in front of her annoyed her further. There was another tractor, similar to the one she had just overtaken, pulling a trolley that, too, was overflowing with labourers. It was almost as if they had been heaped one over the other.
Again, she faced uphill the task of overtaking this second tractor. The labourers were watching her futile attempts with quite an interest. After all they had nothing else to do! After a couple of attempts, she gave up and began to gesture to the labourers at the extreme end of the trolley. Get out of the way, she mouthed, waving her hand to ask them to give way. They saw her and laughed. She was now overflowing with anger and irritability. In that moment, she, uncharacteristically, gestured aggressively. Get out of my way or I’ll kick you to death, she shouted, her head hanging out of the window she had just rolled down. The labourers heard her threat. They laughed even harder. Most of them were humoured by this city memsahib’s meek efforts to gain way. Some of them were furious, how dare a woman shout at them like that? The dissent amongst the labourers was growing, what was this city bitch thinking? How dare she order them around? After a very brief discussion, it was decided that this city bitch needed to be taught a lesson.
She was in for a surprise. Her anger and irritability vanished in a moment, to be replaced by fear and helplessness. A couple of labourers, at the extreme edge of the trolley (near her), undid their lungis (traditional garment worn around the waist), and began pointing their penises towards her. Looking at her, they started stoking their penises, shouting out obstinacies. Why you are in such a hurry, bitch? Are you eager to get back to your brothel, whore? Want some quick cock in your sophisticated pussy, you city slut? You drive fast and I’ll cum fast! Do you want this dick in your mouth? Shout one more time and I’ll make sure it is there! She was petrified. She hadn’t expected things to take such a turn. Shocked, she braked, but the tractor behind her got into the act. It pushed her car forwards in a jerk, and she had no choice but to accelerate, to avoid being hit again. Her car was now sandwiched between the two tractors, as she was in between these low-class men. The two tractors slowed down, almost as if only inching forwards; slowing her car down along with them.
Although she couldn’t see the labourers in the trolley behind her, she was sure of what they were up to, as she heard the choicest insults been thrown at her from behind. Let’s fuck this bitch here! I want to fuck her asshole! I wonder what this bitch looks like naked…let us strip her! It was completely dark by then. All she could see was the back of the trolley, illuminated by her car’s headlights. She felt her mouth go dry. She was actually scared to death. Her mind had absolutely stopped working. She was blank. She absent-mindedly stared at the action taking place in front of her. The labourers, making smacking noises with their tongues and blowing obscene kisses at her, were still stroking their penises, which had become erect.
She saw a silvery semi-solid blob heading towards her car, when it was inches off her windscreen, and splattering on impact. Her mouth opened in horror and her eyes dilated with disgust, as she realized what that blob was. Those filthy labourers were actually masturbating at her! She recoiled in horror as one after the other, the labourers shot their semen at her windscreen. With many more joining in the act, they were taking turns at aiming now. As one group finished masturbating, it was replaced by another group, who by now had erect penises, presumably stoking them since the action had started. In no time, her side of the windscreen had been splattered with a huge amount of semen. After splattering on impact, the blobs were now beginning to slowly slide down the windscreen.
It was almost as if she felt those blobs striking her face, her tongue, her eyes, her hair, and slide down her pink soft cheeks. Along with these unique cum-shots, she was also being bathed with vulgar comments by the labourers. She felt her fear and disgust increase thousand folds with each ejaculate of semen that splattered on her windscreen. She was sweating excessively due to fear; she could feel it dampening her smooth shaved armpits under her kurta (a traditional loose over-shirt worn by woman). Beads of sweat rolled down her face copiously, in tandem with the semen of the labourers which was making its way down the windscreen. She lost count of how many men had ejaculated on ‘her’, thirty, or fifty?
After a brief respite, when she thought that her humiliating ordeal was over, she was hit by a wave of nausea. The labourers, having emptied their balls, were now on to another thing to further humiliate the city bitch! She retched with nausea as she saw a bunch of them, lined at the edge of the trolley, aiming their now limp penises at her, and urinating on her windscreen. She was certain she was going to vomit, as she saw (and heard) their strong streams striking the glass in front of her, and ricocheting in all possible directions. It was as if she was being urinated upon by this group of filthy labourers. Hurriedly, she rolled the window back up, something she realized she should have done before itself.
She watched in horror as man after man took an aim at her face and let go of his sphincters. Laughing amongst themselves and cheering each other, the labourers made merry at the humiliation they were bestowing on the city bitch. Hoping for her ordeal to end, she waited desperately for each labourer to urinate on her windscreen.
After what seemed like eons to her, the labourers finally emptied their balls and bladders. They had humiliated the city bitch to the core. She had felt the humiliation to the core. Figuratively, she had been masturbated and urinated upon by almost fifty labourers, low class men who were way below her in the social scenario. In her mind, fifty filthy sweaty men from villages had ejaculated on her face, making her a cum bucket. Then almost all of them had urinated on her, degrading her to the lowest level possible. Then the tractors stopped completely, bringing her car to an abrupt stop. She wriggled in her seat as she saw the labourers jump off the trolley, on to the bonnet of her car and make their way towards her. Those from the tractor behind were making getting down too. She panicked. What would these lust-filled men do to her, their city bitch, out here on the highway in the dark? She knew the answer perfectly, as a handful of them started pounding on the glass windows on either side. A couple of them were licking the side window glasses shamelessly. In total, there were about a hundred of them, all hungry for the delicious city bitch they wanted to devour.
Listening to their vulgar comments, she knew she would be minced meat if they got their hands on her. She felt dampness at her thighs and on her buttocks and a wave of eerie coldness radiating from her waist to her knees. The fear had driven her to pee all over herself. She was now sitting in a puddle of her own urine. Absent-mindedly, she put the car in reverse gear, fully aware that the tractor behind her was too close; as if hoping that her life would actually go in reverse! She heard an annoying sound, which cars made when put in reverse gear, fill up her brain; it was weird as her car did not have such a device.
At that moment, she woke up to what was the annoying sound of her alarm clock. She sat up in her bed, next to her husband, who was snoring loudly, unaffected by the alarm clock as he had always been. It was not long before after waking up that she realized that she was actually wet, not just with the copious amounts of sweat but also with her womanly juices. Smiling coyly, she headed to the bathroom to have a few moments with herself, before her husband and children woke up.
