09-09-2020, 10:30 PM
It has been almost a month. Twenty-eight days. Twenty-eight excruciating days since the last time Vishal had me. I've been almost out of my mind. The first few days passed in nervous anticipation. Then I began to feel a little apprehensive, thinking about whether he lost interest in me. And now, finally, my thoughts can barely move away from him. I find myself jittery and anxious all the time, wondering about when he would call me. Because I can't call him. Of course, I have his number, even his address. But I can't call him or go to him. He has made it extremely clear that I am his whore and am for his pleasure, not the other way around. So what I want and what I need are not of importance to him.
I curl my hands into fists in frustration what seems like the hundredth time that day and grind my teeth. I need him to call. I can't take any more of this. The past week, I have even taken the long way back home from work, driving in front of his house a few times in the hope of catching him going in or exiting the building. But no luck. I haven't seen him since the last time I went to him. I finger myself to sleep every night alone in my bed. My usual haunts have turned pale and the usual fuckbuddies I have are no comparison to Vishal. I'm addicted. Gone beyond help now. Nothing will satisfy me but his domination. I daydream about him more and more as the day goes by. His derisive looks, his hard hands, his dark hair with the one curl that flops into his eyes... and I am wet. Just like that. And I haven't even started replaying our past encounters.
That's the hold he has on me. That's it. That's too much. I grit my teeth and curse him again for making me wait like this. For making me want and need and almost melt in my eagerness to have him. I'm going insane. So I decide to go to him myself, whatever the consequences. I wear the sexiest clothes I own. Maybe if he's turned on by my appearance he won't be too hard on me? The black leather miniskirt, with heels, makes my legs look longer and the red silky sleeveless blouse frames my breasts in a way that makes them pop out. My underwear is all black lace. At his building, I hesitate and sit in the car for a bit, wondering if this is a mistake. I know I'm in for a painful, humiliating time. But just how painful and how humiliating will it be? He cannot be worse than last time, can he? No, nothing can be worse than the fisting that Vishal had subjected me to when we were together last.
Can I take that again? I think for a few minutes but the wetness of my pussy and the throbbing of my clit makes me leave my fear in the back seat as I open the door and step out. My decision made, I walk in, go up to his floor and ring the doorbell. Vishal opens the door. There is no surprise in his eyes as he looks at me. He raises his eyebrows scornfully and looks me up and down. "Yes?" he asks, holding the door half open and blocking it with his body. I gulp to wet my suddenly dry throat. Whatever I had imagined when confronting him, it wasn't this. I had imagined him being angry, surprised, maybe even contemptuous. But not this. I hadn't imagined him simply refusing to let me enter, and going so far as to not recognize me. "Vishal?" I say hesitantly. I actually don't know how to respond. He just looks at me. "Who is it?" asks a male voice from behind him. Oh! He has guests. That explains it! I feel my face getting hot. I come running to him like a slut who needs to get abused in my barest need and now I am in an awkward position. So is he. No wonder he is refusing to recognize me. Who would recognize a girl dressed like a whore on their doorstep? Vishal turns his head away from me and says, "No one." That's right, I think. I'm no one to him. Why did I have this stupid brainwave? Why didn't I just wait like the whore I was until he summoned me? Why did I have to show up on his doorstep dressed like this? My hand flies to cover my mouth in embarrassment and I start backing away. "Sorry," I mumble. "Actually, now that you're here...." I stop. Vishal eyes me from top to bottom again. He opens the door wider and steps aside. "Come in." I stare at him in confusion. "But, what about...." He shrugs, waiting. I slowly walk past him through the door through the hallway into his living room. Immediately, my eyes are drawn to the lone person in the room. He is tall and thin, with dark hair and darker eyes.
He has a drink in his hand and is looking right at me. "Who do we have here?" he says as I step into the sunken area of the living room. I give him a small smile as I wait for Vishal to introduce us. He doesn't disappoint. Coming up behind me, he slips a hand around my waist. "This is Sandeep," he says, and then turning to me, looking right into my eyes, he continues, "And Sandeep, this is my whore." For a second, I think I haven't heard him correctly, then my face heats up as I realize he has said what I heard. He just introduced me to his friend as his whore. I feel myself blushing in part anger, part humiliation at this insult. "Is she now?" Sandeep says. As I turn to face him, I see his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Quite a looker," he says. "Where did you find her?" "Oh, some nightclub," Vishal replies offhandedly. I don't know what to say. What can be said after such an introduction? Vishal continues speaking. "And usually I call her when I want her, take what I need from her and she leaves. She's just for satisfying my needs. But today..." he trails a hand up my arm, "Today she has come looking for me." My gaze is fixed on Sandeep. The amusement in his eyes has spread to a small smile on his lips. He's looking at me like he can't wait to see my reaction to Vishal's words. But I can't react. I can't speak and I can't even move. If I hold myself still, this absurdly embarrassing scene will go away.
I'll wake up and all this will be just a bad dream. "Looks like she needs it bad," Sandeep says, his eyes never leaving mine. And that is what jolts me from my suspended reality. My gaze drops, unable to look at the amusement now being replaced by raw, pure hunger. "I guess," Vishal answers. His grip tightens on my upper arm. "Do you?" I find my voice. "Vishal, I... maybe I came at the wrong time. I'm sorry." Both men share a look. "Did she come at the wrong time, Sandeep?" Vishal asks. "No! Of course not." "There. Sandeep doesn't think it's the wrong time," Vishal says while ushering me towards the sofa. "Sit," he instructs. I sit. I feel awkward. And exposed. And so, so embarrassed. But I tried to excuse myself and it didn't work, so I obey him. I know what results in disobedience. My skirt hikes up a bit as I sit and I nervously try to pull it lower over my thighs. I realize it really is very short and it's not very polite attire for meeting someone for the first time in such an environment. Perhaps would be okay for a nightclub. In fact, I regularly wear this to clubs, but in this room with two males ogling at me and one of them that I've just met, I feel almost naked. Vishal chuckles at my nervous movement. "I see you're dressed to play." I say nothing. He comes and sits down next to me. "So we'll play," he says smoothly, next to my ear. I shiver as he leans me against the back of the sofa and cups my breast.
My mind skitters off in panic mode. Will he just have me here? Like this? Instinctively, I try to move away from his hand. "Relax," Vishal says. "Sandeep and I go back a long way." "We do," Sandeep agrees. "So there's no need to be uncooperative here." "Or maybe it will be more fun if she's uncooperative," adds Sandeep. I turn to look at him and see that he is eyeing me like a jungle cat eyes prey. I feel like I'm at his mercy. The reality is that I am theirs to do with as they please. I realize that I made a mistake coming here. I should never have let myself be overwhelmed by need like that. Now I'm trapped. Vishal's hand starts getting more insistent on my breast. He is kneading it now. Hard. I bite the inside of my lip and try one more time. "Vishal, please, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here. I'll just... please... I can go and come back another time. When you call me." It's Sandeep who answers. "Now, no need for that. Why should your plans be interrupted just because I'm here?" "Right," Vishal says and tweaks my nipple. I bite back the moan that escapes my throat. Sandeep throws back his drink in one smooth motion, and leaving his cup on the table between us, comes to sit on my other side. "There's no need to be concerned about me," he says. "We can work with this just fine." With that Sandeep covers my other breast with his hand and starts massaging it. It is then that I fully realize what I got myself into. They are both going to fuck me.
Part of me shivers in anticipation at this and part of me fears it. With Vishal, I know it's never going to be as simple as just fucking. Vishal's hand drops from my breast as he leans back and looks at me. "Strip," he commands. I pause only momentarily before starting to peel my blouse off. Crisscrossing my hands at the waist, I slide it upwards, exposing myself to them. Sandeep moves away too and begins to watch. "Stand up and face us," Vishal says. I obey. In position, I open the zipper on the side of my skirt and push it down, then off. I am now standing in my lacy underwear and heels in front of them. "All of it," Vishal says as I hesitate. There is nothing I can do but go for it. I move my hands to my back, unhook the clasp of my bra and let it fall away. Both their eyes are fixed on my exposed breasts. Then I hook my fingers on either side in the waistband of my panties and peel the last layer of my clothing off me. A moment of shame makes me flutter my hands in front of my breasts, but I realize that's not helping anything. "These too?" I ask in a small voice, gesturing at my heels. "No, let those be," says Vishal.
I curl my hands into fists in frustration what seems like the hundredth time that day and grind my teeth. I need him to call. I can't take any more of this. The past week, I have even taken the long way back home from work, driving in front of his house a few times in the hope of catching him going in or exiting the building. But no luck. I haven't seen him since the last time I went to him. I finger myself to sleep every night alone in my bed. My usual haunts have turned pale and the usual fuckbuddies I have are no comparison to Vishal. I'm addicted. Gone beyond help now. Nothing will satisfy me but his domination. I daydream about him more and more as the day goes by. His derisive looks, his hard hands, his dark hair with the one curl that flops into his eyes... and I am wet. Just like that. And I haven't even started replaying our past encounters.
That's the hold he has on me. That's it. That's too much. I grit my teeth and curse him again for making me wait like this. For making me want and need and almost melt in my eagerness to have him. I'm going insane. So I decide to go to him myself, whatever the consequences. I wear the sexiest clothes I own. Maybe if he's turned on by my appearance he won't be too hard on me? The black leather miniskirt, with heels, makes my legs look longer and the red silky sleeveless blouse frames my breasts in a way that makes them pop out. My underwear is all black lace. At his building, I hesitate and sit in the car for a bit, wondering if this is a mistake. I know I'm in for a painful, humiliating time. But just how painful and how humiliating will it be? He cannot be worse than last time, can he? No, nothing can be worse than the fisting that Vishal had subjected me to when we were together last.
Can I take that again? I think for a few minutes but the wetness of my pussy and the throbbing of my clit makes me leave my fear in the back seat as I open the door and step out. My decision made, I walk in, go up to his floor and ring the doorbell. Vishal opens the door. There is no surprise in his eyes as he looks at me. He raises his eyebrows scornfully and looks me up and down. "Yes?" he asks, holding the door half open and blocking it with his body. I gulp to wet my suddenly dry throat. Whatever I had imagined when confronting him, it wasn't this. I had imagined him being angry, surprised, maybe even contemptuous. But not this. I hadn't imagined him simply refusing to let me enter, and going so far as to not recognize me. "Vishal?" I say hesitantly. I actually don't know how to respond. He just looks at me. "Who is it?" asks a male voice from behind him. Oh! He has guests. That explains it! I feel my face getting hot. I come running to him like a slut who needs to get abused in my barest need and now I am in an awkward position. So is he. No wonder he is refusing to recognize me. Who would recognize a girl dressed like a whore on their doorstep? Vishal turns his head away from me and says, "No one." That's right, I think. I'm no one to him. Why did I have this stupid brainwave? Why didn't I just wait like the whore I was until he summoned me? Why did I have to show up on his doorstep dressed like this? My hand flies to cover my mouth in embarrassment and I start backing away. "Sorry," I mumble. "Actually, now that you're here...." I stop. Vishal eyes me from top to bottom again. He opens the door wider and steps aside. "Come in." I stare at him in confusion. "But, what about...." He shrugs, waiting. I slowly walk past him through the door through the hallway into his living room. Immediately, my eyes are drawn to the lone person in the room. He is tall and thin, with dark hair and darker eyes.
He has a drink in his hand and is looking right at me. "Who do we have here?" he says as I step into the sunken area of the living room. I give him a small smile as I wait for Vishal to introduce us. He doesn't disappoint. Coming up behind me, he slips a hand around my waist. "This is Sandeep," he says, and then turning to me, looking right into my eyes, he continues, "And Sandeep, this is my whore." For a second, I think I haven't heard him correctly, then my face heats up as I realize he has said what I heard. He just introduced me to his friend as his whore. I feel myself blushing in part anger, part humiliation at this insult. "Is she now?" Sandeep says. As I turn to face him, I see his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Quite a looker," he says. "Where did you find her?" "Oh, some nightclub," Vishal replies offhandedly. I don't know what to say. What can be said after such an introduction? Vishal continues speaking. "And usually I call her when I want her, take what I need from her and she leaves. She's just for satisfying my needs. But today..." he trails a hand up my arm, "Today she has come looking for me." My gaze is fixed on Sandeep. The amusement in his eyes has spread to a small smile on his lips. He's looking at me like he can't wait to see my reaction to Vishal's words. But I can't react. I can't speak and I can't even move. If I hold myself still, this absurdly embarrassing scene will go away.
I'll wake up and all this will be just a bad dream. "Looks like she needs it bad," Sandeep says, his eyes never leaving mine. And that is what jolts me from my suspended reality. My gaze drops, unable to look at the amusement now being replaced by raw, pure hunger. "I guess," Vishal answers. His grip tightens on my upper arm. "Do you?" I find my voice. "Vishal, I... maybe I came at the wrong time. I'm sorry." Both men share a look. "Did she come at the wrong time, Sandeep?" Vishal asks. "No! Of course not." "There. Sandeep doesn't think it's the wrong time," Vishal says while ushering me towards the sofa. "Sit," he instructs. I sit. I feel awkward. And exposed. And so, so embarrassed. But I tried to excuse myself and it didn't work, so I obey him. I know what results in disobedience. My skirt hikes up a bit as I sit and I nervously try to pull it lower over my thighs. I realize it really is very short and it's not very polite attire for meeting someone for the first time in such an environment. Perhaps would be okay for a nightclub. In fact, I regularly wear this to clubs, but in this room with two males ogling at me and one of them that I've just met, I feel almost naked. Vishal chuckles at my nervous movement. "I see you're dressed to play." I say nothing. He comes and sits down next to me. "So we'll play," he says smoothly, next to my ear. I shiver as he leans me against the back of the sofa and cups my breast.
My mind skitters off in panic mode. Will he just have me here? Like this? Instinctively, I try to move away from his hand. "Relax," Vishal says. "Sandeep and I go back a long way." "We do," Sandeep agrees. "So there's no need to be uncooperative here." "Or maybe it will be more fun if she's uncooperative," adds Sandeep. I turn to look at him and see that he is eyeing me like a jungle cat eyes prey. I feel like I'm at his mercy. The reality is that I am theirs to do with as they please. I realize that I made a mistake coming here. I should never have let myself be overwhelmed by need like that. Now I'm trapped. Vishal's hand starts getting more insistent on my breast. He is kneading it now. Hard. I bite the inside of my lip and try one more time. "Vishal, please, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here. I'll just... please... I can go and come back another time. When you call me." It's Sandeep who answers. "Now, no need for that. Why should your plans be interrupted just because I'm here?" "Right," Vishal says and tweaks my nipple. I bite back the moan that escapes my throat. Sandeep throws back his drink in one smooth motion, and leaving his cup on the table between us, comes to sit on my other side. "There's no need to be concerned about me," he says. "We can work with this just fine." With that Sandeep covers my other breast with his hand and starts massaging it. It is then that I fully realize what I got myself into. They are both going to fuck me.
Part of me shivers in anticipation at this and part of me fears it. With Vishal, I know it's never going to be as simple as just fucking. Vishal's hand drops from my breast as he leans back and looks at me. "Strip," he commands. I pause only momentarily before starting to peel my blouse off. Crisscrossing my hands at the waist, I slide it upwards, exposing myself to them. Sandeep moves away too and begins to watch. "Stand up and face us," Vishal says. I obey. In position, I open the zipper on the side of my skirt and push it down, then off. I am now standing in my lacy underwear and heels in front of them. "All of it," Vishal says as I hesitate. There is nothing I can do but go for it. I move my hands to my back, unhook the clasp of my bra and let it fall away. Both their eyes are fixed on my exposed breasts. Then I hook my fingers on either side in the waistband of my panties and peel the last layer of my clothing off me. A moment of shame makes me flutter my hands in front of my breasts, but I realize that's not helping anything. "These too?" I ask in a small voice, gesturing at my heels. "No, let those be," says Vishal.
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