An adult stories – The Rickshaw Driver’s Wife Ch. 04 by spankedboy,spankedboy The Rickshaw Driver’s Wife Ch. 04
Author’s note: This story contains scenes of a cheating wife, adultery, cuckoldry and humiliation. If that’s not your cup of chai, go read something else. And remember, while adultery can be a great source of enjoyment in fantasy and erotica, in real life it damages souls and destroys marriages. Please treat the following story as a fiction and fantasy piece only. It is written to deliver pleasure and has no other purpose. – Tarek Zia
My name is Fateh. I am a fifty-two-year-old poor Indian man who drives a rickshaw for a living.
You may have read the stories involving my buxom wife Narges, our master Sarun, and I in the series “The Rickshaw Driver’s Wife”. Yes, I am that Rickshaw Driver, the cuckolded husband, and it is my wife Narges who is the eponymous Rickshaw Driver’s Wife.
Our master, the young Sarun, wrote the first three chapters of that series. If you haven’t read his stories, I suggest you read those chapters before reading this. First of all, not only does he write much better than me, but he completely details how I, and my wife Narges, become his slaves, and how he ends up pretty much fucking my wife at will, in front of me, in my own house, in my own bed. I had a big debt, and Sarun is a very rich man. The moral of my life is that if you don’t have the money, don’t gamble. You will end up losing everything.
Our master Sarun has ordered my wife and I to pen the next couple of chapters. As he explained it to me, he wanted me to write about how I felt about my wife’s debauchery, and my own humiliation, in my own words. As he explained to me, my life of humiliation as a cuckolded husband was just about to begin. He wanted me to fully detail all of my thoughts and experiences as I began this new phase of my married life. Our master Sarun also ordered my wife Narges to write about her feelings about our dramatic situation and make them a part of this story, so she will also pick up part of the narration.
I will try to be faithful to our master Sarun’s request, although I do not have the skills with words as he evidently has, in addition to all of his other skills, as my wife would no doubt say, taunting me. That was what my life has become nowadays – being mocked continuously by my wife, and sometimes even being physically punished by her. That is what happens when you are no longer the man in your wife’s life, when you cannot provide for her, and protect her. You become her servant. My wife never lost an opportunity to remind me of that fact.
Not only does Sarun have a much bigger dick than you, my wife would say, he knows what to do with it. You… you are only good at masturbating. Even then, I doubt you give yourself too much pleasure!
It had been a surreal first week with our master Sarun in our house. Yes, I was a poor old rickshaw driver, but at least I was the man of my own house. All that had changed that fateful evening when I picked up what I thought was just another young passenger. This young man was looking for a woman called Narges who happened to be this man’s former maid servant.
This man was now my master, and our master, Sarun, and the woman he was looking for – Narges – was my wife… and now Sarun’s besotted mistress, sex slave, cum dump, and married slut.
I have to applaud Sarun’s chutzpah and confidence.
Of course, I am calling him Sarun here in my story, just for ease of flow of the words. In his presence I was only allowed to call him either “sahib” or “master”. I remember two days before he left, I had just returned from working all day driving the rickshaw. I entered the house and wondered where my wife and our master were. I needn’t have worried – the loud sounds of the bed springs squeaking immediately told me where they were and what they were doing. Heaving a sigh of sadness, but also unexplainedly getting a little aroused, I exited the house and walked to the lavatory in the backyard. As I urinated, washed, and freshened up, I constantly heard my wife repeatedly cry out noisily in the throes of several fervid orgasms.
We are very poor, and our houses had very thin walls, and I could hear them having sex from out in the backyard inside the lavatory. I wondered how many of the neighbours had similarly heard my wife have orgasms all day all this week. Certainly, some of them had been giving me strange looks this week. Even now, as I had stopped my rickshaw on our front yard and gotten out, one of the neighborhood ladies put a hand on her mouth to cover her giggles, and she was smirking when she saw me. I heard a few of the ladies talk behind my back when I went out in the morning. No doubt, it was now an open secret on our street what was happening in my house.
I had completely freshened up and re-entered the house. I went to the kitchen and washed all the dirty dishes I saw in the sink. Finally, as I sat waiting in the living room sofa, the new sofa that Sarun had bought for us, he called for me.
“Fateh, are you home, you cuckold? Get in here, you idiot.”
“Ji, sahib.” I said, which you can translate as “Yes, Sir.”
As I walked in, I saw the two of them lying in bed, completely naked, completely shameless. My 32-year-old beautiful, plump, buxom, sexy wife Narges, and her thirty-year-old virile strong and muscular lover Sarun. As always, there was a strong smell of sex and sweat in the room. Narges was resting her head on Sarun’s broad hairy chest and caressing his dark muscular shoulders and biceps.
I looked jealously at Sarun. Evidently the man wasn’t just some lazy young rich man who didn’t take care of himself. Sarun must be going to the gym regularly. Looking at them just after copulating together, I felt old. Already I was twenty years older than my wife, but looking at the two young lovers, in bed, together, I was distinctly aware of my older age, lack of manhood, and my cuckolded status.
My wife’s huge breasts had tiny bite marks around the nipple and as I went around the bed, I saw that her large rotund ass had bright, red marks. She had been spanked… and spanked well. Yet despite the spanking, Narges had the contented look of a well-fucked woman. A look that I was never able to give her. A sudden feeling of inadequacy swept over me. This man was not only spanking my wife, but also fucking her well, and in my own house, on my own bed! And my wife seemed to be loving it.
The spanking AND the fucking!
Narges’s legs were spread a little, and I could see a pool of gooey, white cum between her thighs. Sarun’s giant cock was lying across one leg, glistening with Narges’s cunt juices. To my dismay, I realized that Sarun was still not using condoms. He had NEVER used condoms throughout the whole time he had been fucking my wife. Given that Sarun was thirty, and my wife was thirty-two, they were both in the prime of their youth. I wondered if he had already succeeded in impregnating my wife. I hoped he had given her those pills he said he would give, one he said would prevent pregnancy. We were too poor to afford such pills. I had hoped against hope that he would also use condoms, but Sarun didn’t seem to care much.
Moreover, given the expertise with which Sarun had simply taken charge of my wife, I wondered if there were other men whose wives’ pussies had been penetrated by that cock. After watching him with Narges for so many days, I realized her certainly knew how to pleasure a woman until she was crying out helplessly for mercy. A big part of that success was his huge dick. Even when soft, his penis was thicker and longer than mine was when hard.
I must have been staring at that monster because Sarun caught me looking, and he laughed out loud, and much to my chagrin my wife Narges joined in with him.
“What are you staring at, Fateh?”
“Er… nothing, sahib.” I lied.
“Ever seen a lund this big?” Sarun boasted, even as my wife wrapped her fingers around his soft member and stroked him. “Do you think your cock has a chance against mine?”
What could I say? This man was emasculating me in every way.
“Er… of course not, sahib.”
“Good! Now strip! You shouldn’t be wearing clothes in our presence, especially when I am not!”
I gasped, but I was not about to argue. I did not want to be spanked again by my wife. Or peed upon. I took off my shirt, and then my lungi. I was now standing completely naked in the presence of my wife and her dominating lover. Yes, we were all now naked, but there was no question about who was in charge here.
Our master Sarun.
“Good, Fateh. You are getting better at obeying.” Sarun praised me. “Now do one thing. I have fucked your wife, and Narges has made a bit of a mess on the bed. She cums a lot – your wife! And I don’t like a messy bed. So go get some tissue and wipe your wife’s pussy clean. I would ask you to lick it clean, but Narges told me that might be too much for you.”
“Ji, sahib.”
I got a tissue paper box from the kitchen and returned to the bedroom. Narges giggled, and helpfully spread her legs. I started to wipe her pussy and thighs. It was dripping with Sarun’s cum which was running down her legs. Even as I wiped her cunt clear, more spunk would ooze out of her hole. By the time I was done, I had used up quite a lot of tissue papers. We usually didn’t use them because of the cost, and used old clothes and rags, but Sarun was adamant about hygiene.
“Husband!” Narges ordered, when I had thrown the tissues in the waste. “Come stand here. Next to me.”
So far Narges was still calling me “Husband”, and not taking my name, except once or twice. She still had that built in respect for me. I wondered how long that would last.
“Yes, Narges.”
As our master Sarun watched, Narges took my penis in her hand. It twitched as she touched it, making her giggle and Sarun laugh. My little penis looked tiny compared to his huge monstrous giant cock which seemed about to burst all the time.
“Do you have a tape measure in this house?” Sarun asked me.
“Ji, sahib.” I nodded.
“Go get it. And measure your… thing,” Sarun ordered.
Narges let go of my penis. I got a tape measure from her dresser and measured my penis.
“Er… 1 inch long and half inches around, sahib.” I said, and they both laughed as if I told them a joke. Sarun then kissed my wife on the lips. I stood there, humiliated, as they kissed for a long time before Sarun turned again towards me.
“Now, Fateh.” Sarun said. “I have been monopolizing your wife, and it’s not fair. After all, she IS your wife, so it’s just fair you also have a turn with her.”
I looked at him in surprise, and in hope. I hadn’t expected to have sex with Narges while Sarun was in the house, but I would gladly do it if he permitted. All those days of watching him use my wife as his personal fucktoy had made me really horny. Alas, that was not what he had in mind.
“Crawl between Narges’s legs.” Sarun ordered. “And start licking her pussy. The pussy that I had just cum in.”
I did as he asked. I positioned myself between my wife’s legs and started to lap at her cunt. I realized that I was licking the same place another man had just dumped his own cum in. In fact, my wife’s cunt had a strong smell, and tasted different – I realized I was tasting the residue of another man’s cum – or to be correct, I was having sloppy seconds.
“Now start humping her leg.” Sarun ordered. “Like a dog.”
I obeyed, and rubbed myself on Narges’s leg as I licked her pussy. Sarun and Narges laughed harder as I humped her leg and licked her cunt. After about ten humps I felt myself explode and came all over her leg.
“See.” Narges told Sarun triumphantly. “I told you he wouldn’t last even a minute!”
Sarun made a disgusted noise.
“Yuck! Clean that up, Fateh!”
“Yes, sahib.”
I wiped my cum off her leg. Sarun then ordered me to stand back. I noticed he was now fully hard – again! It was impossible! I had just heard him fucking my wife and ejaculating inside her merely fifteen minutes ago! And he was ready to go again!
Sarun took his time spreading Narges’s legs apart and brazenly fingering her cunt. My wife lay there, shamelessly spreading her legs, as this man touched and fingered her innermost private parts. With a swift move, Sarun positioned himself on top of her and plunged into my wife’s pussy.
I basically stood there, naked, cum dripping from my limp cock, watching Sarun fuck my wife – again. Because he had already come once it seemed to take him forever to cum. I watched jealously as he pounded my eager wife, switching positions a few times, and making her scream with pleasure repeatedly. The bed squeaked, the sheets rustled, my wife screamed, Sarun grunted, and finally I could see his ass muscles tighten as he began to dump yet another load of cum into my wife.
Bareback. No condoms. He was ejaculating directly inside her womb. Sarun then turned to me and snapped his fingers.
I was ordered to clean Narges up yet again. After I had done so, Narges ordered me to come beside her on the bed and kneel on the floor. As she lay on the bed, having just been pounded by Sarun, I was naked, kneeling on the bare stone floor, watching her face.
Narges sat up slightly, reached out and caressed my cheek with her hand.
“We made some ground rules for you going forward, dear husband.” Narges told me, patting my cheek. “I hope you agree to them.”
Did I really have a choice? I had a feeling these ‘rules’ had been worked out by both of them in between their love making.
“I will do what you ask me to do, Narges.” I replied.
“Narges.” Sarun suddenly interjected. “Slap him.”
SLAP!
Before I could even think of what was happening, my wife had sharply slapped me, obeying her lover.
“I… I am sorry, Narges.” I mumbled. I wondered what I had done.
Sarun looked at Narges and nodded again. Once more my wife raised her hand.
SLAP!
It was another sharp slap, this time on my other cheek with the back of her hand and left my cheeks stinging.
“Here’s the first important rule, cuckold.” Sarun told me. “From now on, you will NEVER call Narges by name. It will always be ‘my dear wife’. Or ‘dear’ for short.”
“Er… ji, sahib.”
So now I couldn’t take my wife’s name!
“Second, you will always address me as ‘sahib’ or ‘master’. Is that understood?” He continued.
“Yes, sahib.”
The rules continued.
“You are now a slave.” Sarun told me. “When I am here, you belong to me, otherwise you are Narges’s slave. You are not her husband anymore, but a slave.”
“Yes, sahib.”
SLAP!
SLAP!
As if to indicate my new lowly status, I was slapped again, twice, by my wife.
“Finally, this is now MY house, and Narges is now my rakhel – my property. Whenever I am here, you will be our mere servant. You will do whatever we both ask of you.”
“Yes, sahib.”
“Now stand up and get us both some cold juice.”
“Ji, sahib.”
Then, two days later, Sarun had finally left. He took the morning bus, and I dropped him off at the bus station on my rickshaw. All along the way, he told me how he had tremendously enjoyed our hospitality and he would be back in a month or so, again to fuck my wife.
When I had returned to the house later that evening, Narges called me to the bedroom. I stepped in and noticed a briefcase on the bed.
“Do you know what is in this briefcase, husband?” She asked me.
“Er, no, Narges.” I replied.
I didn’t even see Narges’s hands move. One minute she had been talking to me, and the next…
SLAP!
The slap had been sudden, and my cheeks stung. Narges raised her hand and slapped me again.
SLAP!
“What was rule no. 1, Husband?” Narges taunted, asking me, while rubbing her hand on my cheek that she had just slapped.
“Er… I… I am not supposed to call you by name.”
My wife slapped me again.
SLAP!
“Good! You remember. Now let’s try this again. Do you know what is in the briefcase, husband?”
“Er… no, my dear. I don’t.”
SLAP!
SLAP!
“Good. Good. You learn fast.” Narges continued to pat my cheek in between the slaps. “Inside this briefcase is 200,000 rupees.”
My jaws must have dropped, for I heard Narges chuckle. Then she continued, “It is for our loan for Wasim bhai.”
“Er, yes, dear.”
SLAP!
“Now we have this loan because YOU… YOU had those gambling debts.”
SLAP!
“And because of you, I had to whore myself out to Sarun for 200,000 rupees for a week.”
SLAP!
“I am sorry, dear.” I mumbled.
SLAP!
“Now call Wasim the money lender.” Narges ordered. “And then pay this off. And if I ever hear that you are gambling again…”
SLAP!
SLAP!
“We have dreamt a long time about being debt free, Husband!” Narges told me. “But this dream has come at a cost. Now, you should realize, nothing will ever be the same between us, ever again!”
That had been a month ago. I had paid a surprising visit to Wasim and paid off the whole loan. The look on his face was something else to see. But he could do nothing – all the money was there.
Life had gone somewhat back to routine. I still drove my rickshaw – but Narges made sure I gave her all of my daily earnings, and she then gave me a small allowance. She also allowed me to fuck her – once… a pity fuck – in the interim. We hadn’t heard anything from Sarun after he had gone.
Let me now turn over the narration to my dear wife Narges.
* * *
Hello, my name is Narges.
Yes, I am the batchalan adulterous wife – the Rickshaw Driver’s Wife – that you have been reading about. If you read Sarun’s stories, you must have read of how I had initially seduced Sarun when he was a young man, and I was working in his parents’ house.
It was a long time ago – over a decade has gone since I used to work at his parent’s place.
At that time, he was 19, and I was 21. He was a horny young man, and I was a horny young woman. Yet I was the maid, and hence taboo for him. True, I was a little chubby, but I used to fill out all the right places. Sarun loved to lick my breasts and my ass. Oh, the number of times I had made him lick my ass and my asshole! I used to love slapping him, and he used to let me – all because in the end I would… I might… give him a blowjob!
I used to allow him to lick my cunt on occasion – he had seen me naked from the waist down enough times – but I never allowed him to cum in me. I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to control himself and make me pregnant, which would complicate matters. Besides, then no one would marry me.
On hindsight, I should have let him cum in me! All those two years that I worked for his family, all Sarun had done was lick my ass, suckle my boobs, and kiss my feet, and sometimes lick me to an orgasm. In return I had slapped him often, and twisted his ears, and from time to time, rewarded him with blowjobs. I thought I was saving myself for my husband! My real true love.
What a waste!
Suddenly it had all come crashing down. Sarun’s family had gotten the visa, and they sold most of their properties and moved to the USA. I was suddenly out of a job. I tried working as a maid in the city for other families, but it was hard getting stable employment with a good family. Sometimes the lady of the house was a bitch, and other times the man was a lecher, or they overworked you and underpaid, and so on.
Besides, there was a full-blown recession, and many middle-class families could no longer afford a full-time live-in maid. The rich had their own already. With no steady work, soon I had to return to the village to my parental home.
My marriage was fixed with Fateh. My father had four daughters, and Fateh seemed to be a good prospect. He had his own rickshaw, which he drove. He had his own house that he owned. And to top it all off, he didn’t want that much in dowry.
“But father,” I had tried to argue, “He is 15 years older than me!”
“So?” My dad had argued back. “I am twenty years older than your mother!”
And so, I was married to Fateh. Not that I had too much choice, but I was willing to give it a go. After all, he seemed like a decent man, and he was going to provide for me, so I didn’t need to work.
It only took a few weeks to find out Fateh had lied about pretty much everything.
He wasn’t fifteen years my senior; he was twenty. Right now, I was thirty-two, and he was fifty-two. When we had married, I was 23, and he was 43, though he claimed to be 38. While Fateh did own his rickshaw and house, both had heavy liens on it. In fact, he was deeply in debt. He had a huge gambling problem, and every time he tried to wipe it off with more gambling, thinking he would win. And he would lose.
He then borrowed from a money lender called Wasim, and paid off the others, but the interest was crippling. He now owed 200,000 rupees to this man, a local mobster, and there was no way he was going to get this type of money. At least I think it was 200,000. Could have been 2,000,000… I might be missing a zero somewhere. I was never that good at numbers.
A couple of days ago, I had run into Wasim, the money lender. I was shopping for vegetables in the marketplace in the afternoon, when suddenly I felt a hand on my bum. My ass.
“Well, if it isn’t the beautiful Narges, the young wife of the loser gambler Fateh.” Wasim sneered, as his hands brazenly groped my buttocks.
“W-w-wasim B-b-bhai!” I mumbled. I could do nothing. I just stood there, as this man squeezed and caressed my bottom in front of everyone.
No one would do anything. It was a small village, and everyone knew who Wasim Bhai was. He owned the local pub, behind which was the gambling den. He was a local gunda (gangster), and no one wanted to cross his path. Besides, he had a couple of his minions with him. Wasim Bhai was fondling me openly, publicly, and everyone just watched. I was so ashamed, I was blushing red with embarrassment, and yet I could do nothing.
“Your husband now owes me a lot of money.” He said, as his hand went deep into the crack of my ass. “When is the loser planning to pay me back?”
“Soon, Wasim bhai.” I managed to croak. “He is working day and night to get the money. Just give us some more time, please.”
“I have been generous enough. I have already given him a year.” Wasim said. He patted my rump, and then his hands went to my waist. I was wearing a sari, so my waist and tummy was exposed, as always. As the vegetable vendors watched, Wasim put a finger in my navel.
“You have a beautiful body, Narges.” Wasim taunted me, stroking my tummy. “It would be a shame if your husband had to settle his debts using you as the payment.”
“Please, Wasim bhai.” I begged. “I am a respected married woman.”
Wasim snorted and then laughed. His hands went upwards, and in full view of everyone nearby, he squeezed my left boob, and then my right boob. A tear rolled down my right cheek, but Wasim didn’t care.
“I have given him a year,” Wasim repeated, as he continued to play with my big breasts in full view of everyone. “But soon I will need the first interest payment. And he has to tell me HOW he is going to pay the whole loan back.”
“Please give us some time, Wasim bhai.” I pleaded. Wasim placed a hand on the button of my blouse, as if to unbutton it, but then he laughed.
“Two months, Narges.” He said, suddenly letting go of my tits, and then smacking me on my ass.
SMACK!
My face blushed a bright red as I was smacked loudly on my bottom in so public a fashion.
SMACK!
“Two months, Narges.” Wasim repeated, as he pinched my buttocks. “If it’s not paid, I will come to your house, and YOU will be the first installment.”
SMACK!
I had just been publicly molested, embarrassed, and humiliated, and all because of my husband! After Wasim left, I still had to continue my shopping. None of the shop keepers spoke much to me, and all of them averted their eyes as they dealt with me. I also couldn’t speak much! I was now a marked – and fallen – woman.
Afterwards, later that night, I told my useless husband about the incident. I told him how I was felt up and assaulted in public, and how I was helpless to act as this man touched and pinched my ass, caressed my waist, and squeezed my boobs, and spanked my ass. In public, in front of everyone. All my husband could do was beg for forgiveness and mumble about how he was saving money and would soon pay it off.
“Can you pay the interest in two months?” I asked him.
My husband looked away. Our situation was dire. That is also when I realized that he had given himself to the idea that I would be the payment for his loan. In his mind, he had already accepted the fact that Wasim would be using me, and my body, as the payment.
I knew how it would work. There were two options. First, Wasim could just tell the police about the loan. He owned the local police anyways. That would mean Fateh would go to jail. After that, I would have to fend for myself. In all likelihood, Wasim’s men would kidnap me, and I would be raped ravished every night, as a lesson for other defaulters.
The second option was for Fateh to come to some arrangement with Wasim. Again, my body was going to be the payment.
Next to Wasim’s pub and gambling den were two five floor apartment buildings. Each apartment inside had a couple of bedrooms. And in each bedroom was a girl.
A whore. A hooker.
That area was known as the red-light district area. People – men – from surrounding villages would throng that area. Mostly truck drivers, day labourers, and sometimes young men from nearby schools. Most of the women who worked there were also day labourers or girls from poor families, now destined for a life as a prostitute. Yet, the top floor of each of these buildings was special.
Inside were women whose father or husband or brother had defaulted on loans to Wasim. These were special women, and the rate was higher. After all, fucking a married woman was much more expensive. I knew that in a year, which could be my fate – working as a lowly hooker – a married woman – to pay off my husband’s debts. My destiny. Who would save me?
And that is when, that very week, just a couple of days later, destiny threw Sarun into my lap. Literally and figuratively. Now you know why I jumped at the chance destiny had tossed my way.
I knew Sarun’s parents had done well for themselves back in the USA. Even in India, they still owned a share of their family business. In USA, they had started a new business, and it was doing very well. This I knew because at the time of my marriage, Sarun’s mother had sent some very expensive gifts for me. She was no longer my employer, she was in another country, and yet she did that for me – a former maid servant who had worked for her. I had the chance to speak with Sarun’s mother on the phone for a little while during my wedding, and she made dua for me, and gave me some encouraging words – and she told me her family would always be there for me.
Thus, as soon as I saw Sarun on my doorstep, surprised as I was, I made a quick decision.
I wanted Sarun to help me out, to bail us out, and in return I would do anything for him.
Anything.
I knew that growing up, Sarun had a crush on me. A man does not lick his maid servant’s asshole if he doesn’t fancy her. And even though I had given him a blow job, I had always denied him the ultimate pleasure.
Now, I didn’t know what his plans were. Was he married? Would he… still want to… fuck me? A lower-class woman, a former maid servant, and now wife of a rickshaw driver? Did he just want me to see me, give me some gifts and be on his way? No… I decided I would have to seduce him. And if he wanted to cum in me, hell ya… I would let him. Unprotected. No point in saving myself for anyone now.
It worked. That very first night, I managed to seduce him into bed. I didn’t need to do much, to be honest, he was horny enough, but I coaxed him into staying with us, and then into fucking me at night even as my inept husband was present just in the next room.
If you remember what Sarun wrote… this is his words…
“You look beautiful,” I told her, and moved forward and kissed her on her lips. I waited for a resounding slap, but it didn’t come, so I kissed her again and stepped back.
“Thank you,” Narges beamed. “You look great too. You have grown tall, kept in shape, and are now a handsome young man!”
You see what I, Narges, was up to. Before, when I used to work as a maid at their house, every time that Sarun used to take a chance and kiss me on my lips or cheeks, I would slap him. And make him kiss my butt. Now, I was opening myself to him. He was going to plant his flag, so as to speak, on the forbidden territory. I was going to do anything for him.
And I didn’t even have to lie as to how handsome he had become. Gone was the skinny, scrawny lad. He was now well built, tall and muscular. And oh, how he could fuck! He must have had a good American girlfriend or two to teach him sex… oh, how well he fucked me!
He always had a big dick. I would so many times fantasize about his dick when my own pathetic husband was fucking me with his small penis. I remember that when I used to suck Sarun off as a 19 and 20-year-old, I would struggle to take him in completely in my mouth. But now, this Sarun – he knew how to use his big dick – and use it well!
He didn’t just start plunging into me and fucking me. Given his size, even that would have been good, but no… Sarun took his time. Expertly.
First, he played with my breasts, squeezing, and caressing until I was moaning passionately. He kissed me all over, licking my face, eyes, lips, nose, and nibbling on my earlobes and biting my neck. I was already a helpless wet mess when he unclipped my bra completely and freed my heavy breasts, and continued to pinch, bite and suck on them.
That is when he took charge. This was the moment I knew I was forever going to be Sarun’s slave. Previously, it had always been I who was in charge. From now on, it was going to be different.
He made me stand up and bend over, and then completely stripped me naked, removing my petticoat, blouse, and panties. As I stood in front of him, naked and vulnerable, he hugged me, pushing his hardness against my wet vagina, and squeezing my ass.
If you have read Sarun’s first chapter, you know what he did next, and how he took me.
My former maid laid down on the bed on her back as I began licking her hairy pussy, making her shiver and tremble as she experienced her cunt being expertly sucked for the first time in many, many years. Her eyes were closed and she was purring as I squeezed her breasts. Narges arched her back to allow me easier access to pull and twist her nipples, making her wince with pleasure.
I pulled her thighs apart and positioned the thick bulbous head of my cock over her labia. I put the tip of my penis into her, then slowly pressed in a few inches, pulled out then pushed back in a bit further, pulled out again before finally penetrating her fully in one push up to my balls, causing Narges to gasp as the air was pumped out of her body, stretching her cunt fully.
To be honest, I don’t remember much. Sarun might be angry that I am reusing his words, but I couldn’t really recount. All I knew was that I was lost in my ecstasy, as he fucked me, again and again, that night.
Every time, all I could utter was a helpless mumble.
“Wow.” I would repeatedly say, and it was the truth. “Oh Sarun! Now that’s what I call a fucking. My husband never fucks me like that. You know how to satisfy a woman. If I knew you fucked like that, I would have let you fuck me a long time ago.”
Sarun, of course, did not use protection. He was cumming in my unprotected womb, and I let him. I didn’t care. I don’t remember when he exactly proposed to me, but sometime, as he was fucking me again, probably for the fifth or sixth time, he told me what he wanted from me.
“You see, I am now a very rich married man.” He was telling me, even as his penis drilled into me. “I have this mansion in Kolkata. My family lives in the USA, but I come every month to Kolkata for a week, sometimes ten to twelve days. I need a maid, Narges. I need you.”
Over the next few days, as I continued to be Sarun’s plaything, the exact nature of this job was starting to become clear. Even the very next morning after our first night, Sarun made me give him a blowjob in the kitchen while my husband watched. As I sucked him off, he kept calling me his ‘cum dump’.
Then he continued to show his dominance over us by kneading and squeezing my big behind in full view of my husband as I served him breakfast. Fateh became his servant, attending to him at his beck and call, and taking him around the city on his rickshaw. Sarun bought some furniture for us, displaying his wealth and taunting Fateh, and then buying me some sexy underwear as my poor husband watched.
And in the night, as Fateh would sometimes watch, Sarun would fuck me in countless number of ways. Sarun would tease me mercilessly, playing with my cunt and tits until I was a helpless wet mess, and then he would have his way with me. I was fucked in my pussy, fucked in my ass, spanked (and spanked well until my ass was red), fucked in the mouth. He slapped me. He made me kneel on the floor and lick his scrotum and then he ejaculated on my face and tits. You name a sex act – Sarun did it to me.
My poor husband! Fateh had to listen to me moan incoherently and loudly all the time. I was getting the fucking of my life. Time and morality lost all sense to me. All I could think of was Sarun’s big dick. In the morning, I couldn’t even walk properly, and yet I wasn’t safe from Sarun. Every time he took my name, I started to become wet. The man really knew how to pleasure a woman. I was ready to give my all to him any time.
Over the few days, my husband had to confront the fact that he was now a cuckold, and Sarun was now our master. When Sarun wasn’t there, I would taunt him.
“Oh, my dear husband.” I would tell him. “You saw a young man slap your wife’s buttocks until she cried out in pain, and you did nothing. Sarun called me a bitch and a prostitute, and you watched. Sarun plunged his manhood into me and FUCKED me in the ass, and you just watched and jacked off to it? What type of man are you?”
As I would taunt him, I started to slap him. I was taking out my frustrations of life on him.
SLAP!
“Does it feel good knowing another man had lubricated my pussy with his cum?”
SLAP!
“I am your wife. But I belong to him. Does it feel good to sit quietly and watch as he takes what is his?”
SLAP!
“I can’t think of a single reason why I would remain faithful to you, after the orgasms he has given me. Can you?”
SLAP!
“Sarun is finally giving me what you never have – a good hard fucking, with a cock that I can actually feel deep inside me.”
SLAP!
And Fateh had no answer to my taunts. Or my slaps. He just sat timidly aside every time Sarun fucked me, shamelessly masturbating to the sight of another man fucking his wife.
And my useless husband had especially no answer when Sarun made him the offer.
I knew exactly what we were getting into. Sarun had made it abundantly clear to me one night as he was fucking me.
He had placed me on the bed, on my tummy. I was naked, of course, and very, very wet. I could hear my husband in the next room, cleaning and dusting. Poor guy.
“You are a beautiful lady, Narges.” Sarun announced. “Look at that big, round, beautiful ass!”
“Oh, Sarun.” I purred. “Remember how you used to lick and kiss that ass!”
“Oh, yes.” Sarun laughed. “I may still do that, Narges. But this time, my bitch, it will be on my terms!”
He was calling me names, and I was letting him.
I lay there, shamelessly, waiting for the man to mount me. Sarun poured out more lubricant and applied generously on my butt cheeks.
“Oh, Sarun!” I moaned, half in heat, half in nervous anticipation. “Please be gentle!”
Sarun climbed on me, and in one move, inserted his huge rod into my ass and thrusted into me.
“Ahhhhh!” I cried out, clasping the bedsheet and grimacing as Sarun plunged deep inside my rectum.
Sarun fucked me like “a bitch”, to use his own words, for about 5 whole minutes. Then he withdrew, and using his strong arms, lifted and flipped me around, so I was now lying on my back, rather than my tummy. Sarun didn’t need to pour any lubricant on my pussy. I was leaking like an open tap. He again climbed in between my thighs and shoved his manhood straight into me. Without even cleaning it.
“My dear Narges,” He started to say, as he commenced pumping into me again, “Once you are in Kolkata, in my mansion, you should know what you are in for. You should be fully aware before taking on the job.”
“Oh, Sarun.” I panted, as I tried to match his thrusts. “I am yours. I am ready for whatever you want from me.”
“You will be my slave.” Sarun was blunt. “Whenever I want, I will call you. And you will do what I want. If I want you to give me a blowjob, you will kneel and give me one. If I tell you to bend over and show me your ass, you will. I will fuck you whenever I want, HOWEVER I want. In front of WHOever I want.”
“Oh, Sarun.” For some reason, his words made me even wetter.
“I will punish you as I see fit. I have already spanked you. I will also cane you if I feel like it.”
My body started to shake. His words were making me hornier.
“Oh, Sarun!” I cried out. “Oh please. Fuck me harder, fuck me dear, fuck me now, I love you!”
Sarun plunged into me, and out, in and out. His cock rubbed against the wet damp skin of my clit, ploughing deep into my folds, going where my husband could only dream of going. You might wonder why I was agreeing to Sarun’s demands, but I was in the middle of another massive orgasm. I was hugging him tightly and leaking for almost a minute.
Sarun recognized this and slowed down, fucking me this time with long slow deep strokes, and kissing me on my mouth.
“Do you agree, my love?” He asked. “Do you want to be my sex slave? My bonded woman? My cum dump? My rakhel?”
“Oh, yes! Oh, yes!” I could only mumble back.
“Good!”
My response seemed to have pushed him over the edge. He grunted as he ejaculated, filling up my vagina with his semen till it overflowed, once again staining the bed sheets. I caressed his balls as he continued to cum. Sarun was now nibbling my neck, still ejaculating. Finally, he collapsed on top of me, lying there as his dick throbbed, the sperm slowing down to a trickle.
You will be my slave. Whenever I want, I will call you. And you will do what I want. If I want you to give me a blowjob, you will kneel and give me one. If I tell you to bend over and show me your ass, you will. I will fuck you whenever I want, HOWEVER I want. In front of WHOever I want.
I will punish you as I see fit. I have already spanked you. I will also cane you if I feel like it.
After Sarun left our place, I thought long and hard about our future. It was easier to think clearly when a giant dick was not constantly in your pussy, giving your massive orgasms. Something I hadn’t experienced before this week for a long time.
The loan to Wasim had been repaid. We were now in no danger from Wasim or his men. Even though he was a gangster, Wasim still operated by a set honour code. Once a loan was repaid, you don’t trouble the borrower. This encouraged others to repay their loans too.
There was no record of Sarun paying us the money, so if we wanted to, we could completely ignore Sarun. He was rich, yes, but he wasn’t someone that could threaten us in any way. He was a young man expanding his US business back in India. So, nothing could force us to go and work as his servants. Or as he said, be his “slave”.
Still, I wanted to go. I wanted to work in his house as his slave woman.
My husband and I argued a lot about it, but I was firm.
“He has a huge house.” I told Fateh. “He is not there half the time, so the house is fully ours to use. We don’t ever have to worry about money, and food. We will be eating, and living, well. Why should we not go?”
I knew the answer, of course. Half the time Sarun was not there. That meant, the other half – he was there.
And when he was there, I would be his slave girl, and Fateh his servant. He would have watch, and do nothing, as Sarun had his way with me, his wife. For some reason, that actually made me want to go and be Sarun’s slave girl even more.
“My dear,” Fateh tried to reason with me. “You are my wife. I am your husband. How can I stand and let another man… do that to you?”
SLAP!
I slapped him, hard. Nowadays I was slapping him a lot. All those years of frustration with Fateh was taking its toll.
SLAP!
“You didn’t seem to have any problem last week!” I retorted sharply. “Or when Wasim played with my boobs in front of everyone in the marketplace! And yet… it is my boobs that has now saved you from Wasim!”
SLAP!
Fateh’s face fell. He knew what I meant, of course. It was the night when Sarun had made the offer to Fateh.
Sarun had stood behind me, pressed his hardness against my ass, and then had cupped my left breast.
“100,000 rupees.” He had told my husband, while holding my left tit. And then he massaged my right breast.
“Another 100,000 rupees.”
The offer was cruel from Sarun, but he knew Fateh had no choice.
“It’s very simple.” Sarun had said, continuing to knead my boobs, and getting no objections from me, or from my cowardly husband. “I am here for the night. You are to allow me to spend the night with your wife and she has to do what I order her to do. If she gives me her body absolutely, then I will loan you 200,000 rupees. You can pay off the money lender, and take your time in paying me back, with no interest.”
So now we owed Sarun the money.
“We don’t really need to pay him back, my dear wife.” Fateh tried to reason with me. “There is no documentation, and really… he cannot do anything to us.”
I slapped him again.
SLAP!
“You are an idiot.” I told him. “Do you really think such a rich man is without any power? No, the correct thing now is to work for him. As we work from him every year, soon we will work off our loan.”
“But…” Fateh was at a loss for words. “This means… he will use… you… and us… as his slaves. Do we really know what we are getting into?”
Did I even know what I was getting into, I wondered. Sarun – he’s not the same Sarun as I knew him before. He was now rich… very, very rich. And very, very… dominating. He wanted things his way, and he knew how to get it. I knew he was married, but that didn’t stop him from banging me like a 100-rupee whore almost continuously for a week.
And I had seen a bit of his cruel streak. Not only in how he spanked me or fucked me. That I had accepted. He would snap his fingers and I would bend over, presenting my buttocks to him. He would spank me until my ass was stinging with pain, and crimson red with his handprints. He also told me that back in Kolkata, I should be ready to be whipped, or caned, or lashed with a belt, should he fancy.
I had also been slapped a few times until my cheeks were stinging red. Often, I would be on my knees in front of him, and just before I would go down on him, he would grab my hair in a tight fist, and pull up, and then pat my cheeks as he held me firmly. A couple of tight slaps to my cheeks, before I would open my lips and start sucking on his cock.
I had accepted this physical domination and cruelty as the price to pay for being his sex slave. Sarun also told me he would use the whip or the cane on Fateh, should my husband displease him. So, I knew that both of us were making ourself subject to being physically punished if we went to work for him.
But Sarun’s true cruelty was in how he taunted and mocked and made fun of my husband Fateh, fully flaunting his dominance over us.
He would often, to demonstrate his power in our household, mock my husband as he fucked me.
“Who is fucking your wife, Fateh?” Sarun would taunt Fateh as he had his rod inside me, poking and prodding me, while I was shamelessly having another loud orgasm.
“You are, sahib.” My husband had to abjectly reply. “And I remain your grateful slave for your generosity, sahib.”
“I will fuck her whenever I want, Fateh. She is my cum dump.”
“Yes, sahib you such a considerate person and a dear friend that you are most welcome to fuck my wife anytime you want.” Fateh had to grovel.
And I remembered the morning where he made Fateh accompany him and I to the toilet.
Both my husband and I were naked. I had been ordered to remain in the nude while carrying out all household duties, while Fateh was also ordered to strip. There we were, husband and wife, fully naked, while serving Sarun who remained clothed. Then he ordered both of us to the toilet.
We had to walk naked from the house, through our yard, to the lavatory. Any of our neighbours could see us if they peered over the small fence. Or were watching from their house.
“Fateh,” Sarun ordered. “Lie down on the washroom floor.”
My poor husband, completely naked, had to lie down on the cold, wet, dirty washroom floor.
“Narges,” Sarun then turned to me and commanded. “Squat over to his face and urinate there.”
I don’t know why I simply obeyed Sarun, blindly. I didn’t even hesitate – not for one second. I simply did as told, nay… as ordered, placing my thighs either side of Fateh’s head, and my cunt over my husband’s open mouth, and began to urinate. Soon I had covered poor Fateh’s face and hair completely with my yellow urine.
“Now rub your ass over his filthy face.” Sarun commanded.
Again, I did as told. I sat down with my full weight on his head, rubbing my pussy and anus back and forth over my husband’s face which was drenched with my own piss. I was aroused, and soon I began to cum, squirting my pussy juices all over poor Fateh’s face and into his mouth.
And yet, Sarun wasn’t done humiliating Fateh yet. He pulled me to one side, and made me kneel in front of him, and take out his cock. He himself then urinated on my husband, drenching him from head to foot, before commanding me to lick his dick clean.
“You are fit to use as a toilet,” Sarun told my husband Fateh, “And your wife is my toilet paper, cleaning my dick of pee.”
All I could reply was, “Yes, sahib.”
I, the Rickshaw Driver’s Wife, was his toilet paper, and my husband Fateh was the toilet.
“Now, Narges.” Sarun held my hair again firmly in a tight fist and made my role very clear. “While I am here, you will remain naked or dressed, as I tell you. I will fuck you whenever I want and you are to pleasure me before, during and after our copulation.”
I was the slut wife. I was his slave girl. I was his cum dump.
“Yes, Sarun.”
No wonder Fateh didn’t want to go to Kolkata. But, in the end, he was a cuckold, he was in Sarun’s debt, and he had a wife who wouldn’t accept no… and so I won.
Why did I so badly want to be Sarun’s sex slave? When I knew he could be a cruel master?
I guess it was a combination of many things. Years of living in poverty, with a husband who was much older than me, who couldn’t satisfy me in bed at all. Years of living in fear of thugs and hoodlums to whom my husband was in debt and had no plans on paying back. Years of sexual frustration combined with resentment towards my husband… and then out of nowhere the sheer timing of Sarun, his thick big cock and his money, arriving as my rescue angel.
No wonder I cuckolded my poor husband. He deserved it.
I am going to now turn the story and narration back to my husband, Fateh. He will continue to story of when Sarun came back to our house, and then our journey forward.
* * *
This is Fateh again. The Rickshaw Driver. The cuckold.
At this stage in the story, you might wonder why I, as a man and husband, am willingly allowing another man to fuck my wife. Why I am taking the abuse from my wife and her lover. Or more importantly, why I am willing to go on with this, even after my debt has been paid.
Well, leave aside the fact that the look on Narges’s face as she was penetrated by his cock was something else. I mean, I was willingly going to become a slave to a man who was going to fuck my wife. Which other man would be an ultimate loser by allowing his own wife to take on a lover?
I tried to think about it, and I could only think of one perverted reason.
I knew I had a small dick. I knew I was way older than my wife. And I knew she had a strong sex drive. Unfortunately, all of these meant that I felt less of a man when compared to Sarun, and somehow that humiliation made me very much aroused. Watching Narges get fucked and hearing her scream in throes of an orgasm turned me on. I cannot explain it.
Without any real good reason, the sight of my own dear wife sucking another man’s cock, sliding his spit-wet cock in her dripping pussy, riding his cock, bending over doggy and looking at me as he entered her, talking dirty to him and complimenting his cock and body, fucking him till she was screaming out in orgasm, and sucking him again till he came inside her, or swallowing his seed while looking at me drove me wild.
The very thought goes against everything conscience and instinctual.
You might think I don’t love my wife anymore. That is not true. I do love Narges. I love her a lot. And I got really jealous when she went to bed with Sarun. Insanely jealous. When Narges was with him, for that whole week, the emotional torture within me raged like a furnace. I was jealous. I was angry. And I was helpless. Nothing compared to this emotional torture… this tormented tearing of my soul as my wife let another man ejaculate inside of her and knowing that I cannot stop it.
Yet, it was the most perfect combination of emotions I have ever felt. I guess… in short… my wife was right. I was a loser. I was not a real man. Now that there was a real man in her life, someone with lots of money, someone giving her lots of gifts, someone giving her lots of off the charts sex, I had no choice but to accept it.
My master Sarun did want me to write about my feelings, so I hope he appreciates this little detour from the story. So… alright… let me get back to what happened next.
Dear reader, almost two months had passed since our master Sarun was here, fucking my wife and paying off my loan. Finally, last night, he had unexpectedly called and said he would be here today by late afternoon. He talked mostly to my wife, making her giggle and blush like a schoolgirl talking to her crush. He only briefly spoke to me.
“Remember our rules, cuckold.” He warned me with disdain. “Be on good behaviour when I am there so your wife doesn’t have to punish you. So that I don’t have to punish you. I have a belt that would love to meet your ass.”
“Er… I will do my best to please you, sahib.”
“And be prepared to soon move to Kolkata.”
“Yes, sahib.”
This morning I couldn’t drive my rickshaw. My wife had me running errands, such as getting groceries so she could prepare Sarun’s favourite food, and then I spent the rest of the morning cleaning the house and bedroom and moving some of my stuff out of the bedroom.
It was now the afternoon, and I was on my knees in the living room, begging my wife.
“My dear, please.” I pleaded. “You know I need the release, and you promised me, my dear.”
I badly needed to cum, but since last week, my wife had expressly forbidden me to masturbate without her permission. It was yet another addition to her list of rules.
“Why?” My wife looked at me. “I gave you a hand job last week!”
“I’m sorry my dear,” I begged again. “With sahib here, you know I will need some release before he comes. You know I won’t get any release when he is here with you.”
Narges made a face.
“You are so pathetic.” She scoffed. “Why can’t you control your perverted urges like real man!”
“Please, my dear.” I implored. “Allow me to masturbate, please.”
Narges raised a hand and slapped me. Nowadays she often slapped me as a punishment.
SLAP!
“Alright, Husband. I am going to let you ejaculate,” She snarled, “It’s more than you deserve, though.”
“Thank you.” I meekly replied.
SLAP!
“Where are your manners?!” Narges raised her voice.
“I’m sorry, thank you, my dear, sweet wife!” I grovelled.
SLAP!
“Go to the lavatory. Take your clothes off once inside, and don’t even think about touching yourself until I join you.” Narges ordered.
“Yes, my dear wife.”
Soon I was in the lavatory in the backyard, fully naked. As I was waiting for Narges, I was feeling intensely aroused. My erection began to throb in anticipation of its first ejaculation in nearly seven days. It took all my will power not to touch myself, but I knew that any deviation from her instructions would only cause me further denial.
Narges entered after ten minutes. She was wearing her sari, which left quite a lot of her navel and waist exposed, as was the norm in our culture. Her clothes, the sari, clung snugly against her ass. Ever since the last two months, she was looking even more radiant than usual. It appeared that being fucked day and night by a man like our master Sarun had done my wife a world of good.
“Alright, Husband.” She looked with disdain down at my manhood. “Let’s see this pathetic excuse of a cock you have! A penis like this doesn’t even deserve to ejaculate.”
“I am sorry, my dear.”
“Because you are my Husband, I still love you, so I will allow you a release.”
Narges spit generously into her hand, wiped the precum off the tip of my penis, and used that and her own spit for lubrication as she began stroking me. Oh, how it felt so good to have my penis attended to! I knew I wasn’t going to last very long.
“You know, Husband.” Narges continued to stroke me. “You disappointed me this morning. You know Sarun is going to come, and yet you were tardy in going to the market, and getting sloppy with the cleaning, and now wasting time with… this.”
“I am sorry, my dear.” I croaked. “But… but… I also have some needs, my dear wife.”
“And what did you try and argue with me this morning?” Narges completely ignored my excuse and carried on. “Why do you want Sarun to wear condoms?”
“My dear.” I tried to make my case while keeping my voice in check, even as my wife increased her pace of stroking me. “He is just… cumming… in you. He’s a young man, and you are a young woman. He can make you pregnant.”
“Well,” Narges grinned. She stopped stroking me for one minute, before resuming again. “You should have thought about that before you gambled our future away.”
Her comment almost made me cum. I knew I couldn’t last for much longer as Narges continued to rub my penis while continuing to humiliate me.
“My dear.” I begged. “You are only thirty-two. At the prime of your fertility. When is your next period due, my dear?”
Narges laughed. Once again, she stopped stroking me for a minute, raised her hand and patted my right cheek. I knew what was coming next.
SLAP!
SLAP!
Giving me two tight slaps, Narges grinned at me, before starting to stroke my manhood again.
“Well, my period was about two weeks ago, and I felt a little cramp this morning so I might be ovulating.” She chortled. “You know Sarun cums a lot. I am sure that there is an egg in me to be fertilized. This month I am sure his ample semen will hit the mark.”
The last statement almost pushed me over the edge. I could feel my orgasm steadily building. So could Narges, and she immediately slowed the pace of her hand job.
“You need to now accept that I am Sarun’s slut, and you are his sissy. Accept it.” She said, as she continued to stroke me. “Let’s be honest. You get turned on when he fucks me. And I would allow him to fuck me even if you didn’t like it. What will you do to get us to stop? Nothing.”
“I am sorry, my dear.” I mumbled. “I love you.”
“You love me? You LOVE it when he degrades you, don’t you?” My wife had a smile on her lips. “You know what… I LOVE it too. Serves you right for cheating me all those years out of a good life. You lied to me, you gambled our money, and now my body belongs to another man. Today, he is going to fuck me again, on our bed, in our house, in front of you. And soon, I will be carrying his child.”
The combination of her taunting, the stroking, the jealousy I felt as a man, and the arousal I had as a cuckold was more than I could take, I was about to explode my load. When I reached the moment of no return, Narges cruelly stopped stroking me, and with an evil smile squeezed my balls tightly, effectively abandoning my penis and denying me stimulation at the most critical point in the orgasm.
“Ungh! Umgg! Aaaah.” I moaned as a very subdued orgasm took over. My cum slowly arrived at the urethral meatus and spilled over my cockhead. I could feel the urethral muscles move the ejaculate to the tip but in the end, it did not feel very intense.
Still, I had cum, and I had my release as my semen dribbled over to the lavatory floor. Narges made a face as she looked at me.
“Clean up and come inside quickly.” She said, wiping her own hands on to the pallu of her sari. “Sarun will soon be here, most likely in an hour or so. We need to be ready.”
“Just how much ready do we need to be for him?” I grumbled. “I’ve already moved my clothes to the living room and changed the bed sheets. What more does that stupid man need!”
Narges looked at me, stunned.
“You will NOT call him that.” Narges warned me with a tone that I had never heard her use before. “Sarun is not just MY lover, but he is OUR master. And your duties just don’t end because you changed the bedsheet. Remember the rules… you are a mere servant.”
“My dear wife.” I tried to plead. “My love. Isn’t it enough that he gets to… um… go to bed with you? Does he have to rub it in with all these rules for me?”
Narges came forward until she was standing in front of me. I knew I was going to get slapped again. It was Narges’s way of reminded me of my failure as a man.
SLAP!
“Awww.” My young wife mocked me. “Is your little dick making you jealous, husband?”
SLAP!
“Listen up, husband! These were the rules YOU agreed to. It should make it easier for you to submit to him gracefully.”
SLAP!
“And let’s be honest – we both know you enjoy it!”
SLAP!
“Try, dear husband,” Narges continued. “It’s best if you wouldn’t provoke him.”
SLAP!
“Sarun is a young man. Strong. Physically fit. Do you understand what will happen if you provoke him?”
SLAP!
I knew I was defeated.
“Yes, dear wife.”
“Now look here, husband.” Narges’s voice was suddenly soft. She changed her tone, trying to reason with me. “It’s not just about him. Or you. This is about me. I’VE chosen him as the man of my heart. He will be the man of the house. So, it’s better that you just accept your position.”
“My position?” I asked with indignation. “I am your husband!”
My wife grew visibly frustrated with my attitude and once again decided to be tough with me.
SLAP!
This time the slap was much harder.
“Where was this husband when Wasim was squeezing my boobs in the market?”
I had no answer to that. I had to lower my gaze in shame.
SLAP!
“Where was this husband who couldn’t pay his loan, and subjecting me to ridicule and shame?”
SLAP!
“Yes, you are still my husband, but you should know your position! You are my little bitch, you are OUR little bitch, and you will do what you’re told!”
SLAP!
“It is your gambling that has placed us in this SITUATION… and you in your POSITION.”
SLAP!
“Maybe you’d prefer to wait until Sarun gets here. Then all of us can ‘discuss’ this again. Do you want that?”
SLAP!
“Er… no.” I shook my head, fully defeated. I understood my ‘position’, and I did not want to discuss anything with Sarun at all. He was the master, after all.
* * *
There was a knock on the door.
Our master had arrived.
Sarun was still the handsome thirty-year-old young man he was last month when he had stormed into our lives, and my wife greeted him with a very wet kiss on the lips and a passionate hug at the front door. I knew our neighbours could see them, and I could do nothing. I just stood there awkwardly while Sarun grabbed my wife’s right tit roughly. In full view of anyone on the street that time of the day, they kissed for about a couple of minutes, and he continued to play with her breast, before he entered our house and my wife shut the door.
“Hey Fateh, how are you?” Sarun asked me, as he hung up his expensive coat and removed his shoes. Even though he was a super rich young man, he still had the decent upbringing and class to remove his shoes on entering a house. “How are you doing, cuckold?”
“Good, I guess.” I replied. What else could I say to the man who had come here to my house to fuck my wife?!
“My husband was feeling a bit angry today at you.” My wife spoke up. Her eyes sparkled as she looked to Sarun to gauge his reaction. “He was complaining about all the rules he has to follow.”
“I see.” Sarun’s change in tone was subtle, but I detected a note of quiet arrogance. “Well, now… is that going to be a problem, cuckold? Do I need to take out my belt?”
“Er… no, sahib, there is no problem at all.” I tried to explain. “I was merely… asking.”
“Why don’t you follow us to the living room, Fateh?” Sarun told me. His voice said this was not a suggestion, but an order. “I will decide if I need to use my belt on you.”
“Ji sahib.” I replied as I reluctantly followed the couple to the living room, where Sarun sat down on the sofa.
“Fateh. Stand there by the corner,” Sarun ordered. “I will show you how a real man fucks your wife.”
Was he going to fuck my wife already? Having just gotten here?
“Er… of course. Ji sahib.”
My wife was wearing a dark blue sari, while her blouse and petticoat were light blue. Sarun made her sit next to him, and then leaned forward and kissed my wife on the lips. It was a passionate kiss between two lovers. He immediately moved a hand towards her pussy, and over her sari and clothes, started to rub her over her clitoris in a circular fashion.
“Mmmm… Sarun. That is so nice.” My wife commented smuttily, as they kissed again.
“Narges. Pull down my pants.” Sarun ordered. Clearly, he wasn’t wasting time.
“Yes, Sarun.”
Narges reached over to Sarun and removed his belt. To my surprise, and alarm, Sarun picked up the belt, looked at me, and then gave a cruel grin, before folding the belt in double and placing it by his side.
My wife unzipped Sarun’s pants and slowly helped him out of them. Sarun was wearing a pair of boxer briefs and it was obvious there was a large penis within them. My wife massaged his member through his underwear.
“Mmmm Sarun!” She exclaimed. “This cock! Let me take it out, Sarun! My husband needs to be reminded of what it really takes to please his wife.”
“In a moment, my slut.” Sarun replied. He continued to kiss her on the lips.
Soon Sarun removed his shirt revealing his impressive muscular physique. He seemed to have become even more muscular in the last couple of months. As Narges started caressing his chest and abs, obviously impressed by these masculine features, Sarun kissed her firmly again, while massaging her tits. My wife’s chest was now heaving, and Narges was breathing heavily as Sarun continued to play with her breasts, even though she was still wearing her blouse.
“Stand up, Narges.” Sarun ordered. “Time for you to strip. The slut must always strip before the master.”
“Yes, Sarun.”
True to his words, my wife was then stripped completely naked.
First came off the sari. Then the blouse. The petticoat soon followed, all of them at her ankles, as my wife stood there in just her bra and panties. Sarun wrapped his hands around her hips, and with one finger, raised and expertly clipped off her bra, and it flew off, freeing her huge breasts to pop into view.
“Turn around and bend over.” Sarun ordered, as he pulled down my wife’s panties, making her completely naked, exposing her now very wet pussy and her gelatinous buttocks.
“Yes, Sarun.”
We all knew what was coming. As my wife turned around and bent over, exposing her bare buttocks to him, Sarun raised his hand.
SPANK!
SPANK!
I could see that the spanking was not soft by any means; he was really lashing my wife’s buttocks with his hand with full power.
SPANK!
SPANK!
Yet Narges gamely took him on, and even as her ass cheeks reddened, she maintained her smile.
SPANK!
SPANK!
Sarun sat back on the sofa and snapped his fingers. Like a trained slut, my wife turned around, and knelt down in front of him. After a moment of enjoying his athletic body, she went toward his member which was the ultimate goal. Soon my wife removed his underwear, revealing his large, monstrous, semi-erect penis.
It is impossible to appreciate just how large Sarun’s cock was unless you saw it in person. I can tell you it is at least 8 inches but that might not be accurate from me. I can only say it was huge. It was gigantic and Sarun wasn’t even fully erect.
Narges immediately started licking the tip of this powerful cock and stroking the shaft. When Sarun became fully engorged, his penis now looked enormous. My wife continued to suck his penis, taking him deep into her throat while simultaneously using a free hand to masturbate her own clitoris.
I could tell that she was getting close to orgasm as her own body started to spasm and Sarun’s breathing too became heavy.
“Sarun, please.” My wife suddenly begged. “Please fuck me now, Sarun. I want to feel your seed deep inside me.”
I felt incredibly jealous at that moment. This whole last month I had been begging my wife for sex and just this morning she ridiculed me for trying to even masturbate. And here she was, begging another man to fuck her unprotected, without condoms, right after she had sucked him.
Sarun turned to cast a triumphant arrogant glance at me.
“You see, cuckold.” He taunted. “When you are real man, women actually need your cock. They are helpless. I am a real man, and you are not. Thus, as you can see, your slut wife is actually begging me for my cum.”
He smiled, and I hated him all the more. But I could do nothing.
“Sahib, you are a real man, no doubt. I have a lot to learn from you.”
I had to reply in such an abject and submissive manner. This man had paid off all my debts, and I still needed him to pay off more. There were extra debts that Narges had no idea about. Little did I know that Sarun already knew about it and was about to divulge it soon.
Sarun stood up, and Narges got on the sofa. Both of them were now fully naked, devoid of all clothing, and sweating heavily, and breathing hard. My wife lied down on the sofa on her back, and Sarun climbed on her in the missionary position. Once more he cast a triumphant glance at me, this time mixing it with a look of pity.
“I am going to enjoy fucking your wife, Fateh.” He said, chuckling.
“Yes, sahib.” I replied meekly. “My wife is for you to enjoy, sahib. After all, you have done so much for us.”
“True.” Sarun laughed. “And that’s why… your wife is now my bitch, Fateh. I own her.”
“Yes, sahib. You are our master.”
In full view his giant cock easily slid into my wife’s soaking wet pussy. I could see her labia minora stretch to accommodate his girth and she moaned in approval. Sarun started with a few slow stokes and my wife’s helpless body started to respond.
“Oh, Sarun!” Narges was moaning. “I belong to you now. In every sense of the way. Oh, Sarun!”
My wife’s body began to shake signalling she was approaching her first orgasm.
“What about your husband, Narges?” Sarun taunted her, as he plowed into her again and again.
“UNGH! My… husband! UNGH! I boss him around like a little bitch, Sarun.” My wife answered in between the thrusts. “UNGH! Feel free to boss him around too, Sarun!”
As Sarun fucked her, Narges thrust her hips in perfect time with his thrusts maximizing her own stimulation. My wife reached up and massaged her own nipples adding to the sensations she was already experiencing.
I could see that her eyes were closed and as the first wave her orgasm swept over Narges, she yelled, “Oh Sarun! OH MY GOD! Sarun! Your cock feels so good!”
Narges convulsed violently as each swell of orgasm overwhelmed her nervous system. My wife actually got overwhelmed and slipped into a momentary period of unconsciousness. At that moment I could see the wetness at her groin grow confirming the authenticity of this orgasm. Sarun was still fucking her at a leisurely pace when my wife finally reoriented herself after what was clearly a powerful orgasm.
She looked at our master with passionate eyes and told him, “I love you, Sarun.”
At that moment I was once again rocked with powerful and conflicting emotions. Sarun was obviously more than a good fuck for my wife. Yet here I was, watching my wife in the throes of an orgasm with another man, and getting humiliated, and still aroused. Narges was my wife, yes. But it was clear now who she really belonged to.
Narges reached up to Sarun’s hips and pulled him into her. She was encouraging him to fuck her harder and he responded in kind. My wife moaned with each thrust as his member massaged her g-spot and other sensitive vaginal areas.
“What a slut!” Sarun commented. “Bitch! I am going to make you pregnant right her in front of your husband!”
“Oh, yes! OH YES! OH YES! Sarun!” My wife begged. “Do it! Harder! Harder! Oooooh! I feel my orgasm coming, Sarun. Cum in me please. Fill my pussy with seed. Make me pregnant!”
Sarun needed no encouragement, and he picked up the pace.
“Look at your husband, bitch!” He ordered. “And tell him you are going to get a pussy full of my cum.”
Narges, in the throes of yet another violent orgasm, could hardly respond.
“H-h-husband!” She mumbled. “I… UNGH! I… am going…. UNGH! To get a pussy! UNGH! UNGH! Full of cum!”
I felt like a girl standing there next to his enormous cock. As he fucked her, he was even lifting my wife with it. How could I compete with him? I was so humiliated, my wife was fully ignoring me, making love to Sarun in front of me, completely not caring about my feelings.
“Oh, Narges, I’m going to cum.” Sarun declared. “Cuckold! I am going to cum in your wife!”
“Yes, sahib. I am honoured that a real man like you is cumming inside my wife.”
It wasn’t like there was anything I could have done. Sarun was an alpha man, and he was going to take what he wanted. He didn’t stop until he shot his seed deep inside my wife’s guts. He always seemed to ejaculate a lot of cum.
I could almost see Sarun’s cock spasm as I was intently watching him penetrate my wife again and again. My wife’s body began to convulse, once again, as her second tidal wave orgasm of the evening overwhelmed her body. She arched her back and collapsed on her elbows as this powerful orgasm weakened her arms. I could see her vaginal muscles involuntarily contract around Sarun’s cock giving him the pleasure I was completely denied this morning and encouraging the movement of his semen into her fertile uterus.
It was incredible, watching as he bellowed out, thrusted deep, and continued to fill my wife full of his seed.
After what seemed like an eternity Narges’s orgasm eventually subsided. After several minutes, Sarun was sufficiently flaccid and removed his penis from my wife’s wet cunt. I could see a large gob of his semen at her cunt and my wife could feel that it was there also. She and Sarun sat back together on the sofa enjoying their afterglow. They cuddled like experienced lovers and Sarun gently pecked her neck. Narges had that dreamy, well fucked look, on her face.
“Oh, that was so good, Sarun!” My wife gushed. “So intense!”
“I enjoyed it too.” Sarun grunted. “A cunt like yours isn’t built for little dicks, Narges! What you need is a real man to smack your ass and put you in your place.”
“Yes, of course, Sarun.” My wife laughed, and then finally turned to look at me.
“I still love you, Husband.” She declared. “But Sarun here gives me earth shattering orgasms. And he is rich!”
“Yes, my dear.” I replied. “I understand. Sahib is a real man. His cock is so much bigger than mine and he stays hard very long.”
Both of them laughed.
“Hear that Sarun?” My wife grinned as she kissed her lover again. “My husband wants to watch you pump me full of your cum.”
“Yes, my slut.” Sarun massaged her tit. “Soon you will be in my mansion in Kolkata. I will fuck you in every room.”
They kissed for a while, before Narges turned back to me.
“You say you understand who a real man is,” My wife continued. “But we still have your insolence of this morning to deal with, husband.”
I sighed and glanced at my foot. What else could I say!
My wife lazily stood up. She then walked towards me, and her hands reached up to grab my ear.
“Come.” She said, giving my ear a firm twist. “Let’s go to the corner.”
Leading me firmly by the ear, my wife dragged me to stand in the corner. She unbuttoned my pants and lowered them down to my ankles, and then yanked my underwear down.
“Put your hands behind your head.” She ordered.
I stood there half naked as she walked away. I heard some whispering and giggling and what sounded like the two of them making out again on the sofa. After about 10 minutes, she beckoned to me.
“Come over here, husband, and keep your hands behind your head.”
I hated the position of being so exposed in front of my wife and her lover. I trudged over carefully to the sofa where they sat snuggled up next to each other. I was red in the face standing in front of them.
She reached over to and held my balls in her hand.
“Do these balls sexually satisfy me, husband?” She asked with a smirk.
I took a deep breath.
“No, my dear. I’m not able to sexually satisfy you.”
“That’s right. You’re not man enough. Your little weenie can hardly fill me up, and you can’t last for more than a minute.” Narges giggled. “That’s why I have Sarun here.”
Sarun smiled as he fondled by wife’s breasts and kissed her on the mouth.
“Yes, I understand,” I replied.
“Again, you say that you understand, but then your attitude and behavior say otherwise. We’re going to have to correct that, husband.”
My wife stood up, and once again held me firmly by the ear. She led me to the dining table, leaving her man to relax on the sofa.
“Bend over the table, husband, assume the position.” She ordered.
I bent over with my hands reaching across the table. I was going to get spanked by her, again.
At that moment, Sarun entered the room as well. I turned red in embarrassment as he watched my wife pat my bare buttocks.
“The cuckold is ready for a spanking, I see.” He commented, and my wife laughed. I heard them kiss again.
“Husband.” My wife grinned, as she caressed my ass. “Sarun is our master. In addition to fucking me, do you know what else he gets to do as the man of the house?”
I gulped.
“Er… I don’t know, my dear.”
My wife chuckled.
“Think about it, husband.” She spoke. “When you behave badly, what does the master of the house have to do to enforce the rules?”
For the first time I felt a sense of terror, as well as flutters in my stomach, as I realized that she was talking about Sarun also punishing me. At the same time, I noticed Sarun had his belt in his hand.
His own belt, from his pants, that my wife had pulled down.
“My dear cuckold.” Sarun grinned, as he swung the belt, while walking around to join my wife and standing beside her. “Do you know what I found out? About this house? About your rickshaw?”
I gulped again.
“Er… no… sahib.”
“You are lying again, husband.” Narges told me. “Sarun will punish you now.”
My wife walked and stood in front of me, looking straight at me in my helpless state. I was not expecting this, but my little penis grew hard even as my buttocks throbbed.
“So, cuckold.” Sarun’s loud voice booked behind me as he raised his hand. “You always claimed you own this house and your rickshaw.”
“Er… yes, sahib.”
WHACK!
The sound of the leather of the belt on the bare skin of my buttocks sounded like a rifle shot in the silence of the jungle. Immediately the pain of a thousand watts of electricity stung my bottom as I yelped.
WHACK!
Sarun hit me again.
“You are lying. Or not being fully honest.”
WHACK!
“Sahib, I am so sorry, please forgive me.”
WHACK!
Sarun hit me again. The lashing was very painful. I could barely stand it and I started to fidget and tear up.
WHACK!
“You have more loans.” Sarun said. “Did you not think I would find out? You have put your rickshaw AND the house as collateral. And the loan is in fact far, far more than they are worth.”
WHACK!
“I am so sorry, sahib.” I whimpered. “Please forgive me. I was going to get the money.”
WHACK!
“You have no way of getting the money.” Sarun declared. “What I am going to do… is give your house and the rickshaw to the lenders. And then pay out of my own pocket to finally settle your debt. Fully this time.”
WHACK!
“T-t-t-thank you, sahib.”
WHACK!
“In return, you will come to Kolkata next week. You and Narges. Ready to be my full-time slaves.”
“Yes, sahib.”
Narges then asked me to stand up. My buttocks were on fire and felt too tender to touch. It would be several days before I would be able to sit down, and over two weeks before the soreness was gone.
But something else was there that wouldn’t be gone in two weeks. It would take a lifetime.
My status as a cuckold and slave to Sarun.
My wife’s status as Sarun’s sex slave.
We were now a slave couple in moder day India.