How my wife got gangbanged by multiple men in mela

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 18
“’Tis a while since I’ve sampled a virgin,” said the raja. I got the impression he was enjoying the fantasy almost as much as my wife. It made no difference that he knew she was in her late twenties and certainly not a virgin. Fantasy is powerful.

“Please!” moaned my wife. “Please, no! Not my precious maidenhood!”

“Tell me where your ship is!” said the raja.

I watched, aghast. My wife was about to be fucked by another man. Tell him! I was screaming, watching the thick cock about to enter her. God, tell him!

My wife made a great show of thrashing her head in the grass, her long hair shining and flying. “I—I cannot! I cannot betray him!”

The raja smiled. “Then prepare yourself for your first…man!” And on the last word he plunged into her, burying half of his length on the first stroke.

There was no hymen to break, of course, and my wife let out a deep groan of pleasure, although she tried to make it sound like a sob of pain.

“Ah!” gasped the raja in satisfaction. “Tight as a virgin and wet as a Randi. And now I’ll show you how a raja takes his women.” And he began to thrust.

I watched in horror as his thick cock spread her wide. She may not have been a virgin, but my wife was tight, having only ever known my modest cock. She was so tight around him that he had to push hard to make progress. My wife began to suck in air in quick little breaths through her nostrils, adjusting to the feeling of being so stretched.

The raja stopped, slid his hand from her cheek to her breast and kneaded her there until she writhed on the ground in helpless ecstasy, twisting around his cock. Only then did he start to thrust again, and I could see that he was entering her deeper and deeper with each thrust. His britches were around his thighs, but he was otherwise completely dressed while my wife lay nearly naked, her dress pulled down and her lehenga pulled up. With her hands bound and held above her head, she really did look like a helpless maiden being ravaged.

The raja gave a hard thrust and my wife moaned as he buried himself inside her. His ass cheeks were tight in between her spread thighs, an obscene sight…and one that had me rock hard beneath my monk’s robe. Another man is inside my wife, I thought. Right up inside her, deeper than I’ve ever been.

“Now,” said the raja. “Now, I’ll fuck it out of you. You may be a nobleman’s daughter, but I’m going to make you moan like a Randi.”

“N—No!” said my wife. “Never!” But she was already panting faster.

The raja began to thrust. He kept one hand on her breast, his thumb working at her nipple, while the other held her bound hands on the ground. I could see her fingers twisting, could see her weakly pressing up against his grasp. She wasn’t trying to escape, I realized. She just wanted to keep testing her bonds, to keep the feeling of being helpless alive in her mind. It’s the guilt, I thought. She can enjoy it if she doesn’t feel guilty. If she’s helpless, it’s not her fault.

The king’s ass was rising and falling rhythmically now, his groin slapping against hers. He was pulling out almost all the way on each outward stroke, and I could clearly see his thick cock, shining with her moisture, plunging in and out of her. My wife began to writhe and buck beneath him, her hips starting to circle.

“Yes,” said the raja. “That’s it. Fuck me like a Randi. Give me a ride.”

“No!” panted my wife. “No! I—”

“You’re loving it,” the raja told her, the speed of his thrusts increasing. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?”

“No!” she told him, her voice going high.

He squeezed her nipple again and she groaned. “Yes you are. You’re going to moan like a Randi and come for me—”

I could see my wife’s thrashing intensifying, her hips swirling around and around, her eyes closing. “N—No!”

God, she is! She’s going to come for him!

“Yes you are. You’re going to come for me, right…now!”

“No! I will neverrrrAAAHHH!” My wife’s back arched like a bow and her arms went stiff above her head, her fingers twisting together. Her heels dug into the soft earth and her whole body shuddered again and again.

“I do believe I’ve just done the impossible,” said the raja. “I think I’ve made a Randi come.” His thrusts slowed as my wife went limp under him. “And now I have another gift for you. The king’s seed, ready to put a bastard son in your belly.”

“W—What?” For a second, I could see my wife flitting between her fantasy and harsh, cold reality. That’s it! I thought. Say “Lion!” Tell him to stop! I didn’t want to see my wife pregnant by another man!

But then I saw Nandini look up at the madari and, with sick horror, I understood. Her brain was too addled by her orgasm, and she was too lost in her fantasy to work through the implications. She was relying on her husband to help her do the right thing.

And her “husband,” of course, simply nodded and rubbed her upper arm.

My wife shook her head, but she was back in fantasy mode, where anything but Lion meant “yes.” “No!” she said. “D—Don’t! Don’t come inside me, sire! Please!”

I could hear the rising excitement in her voice as she said it, and I groaned. It was even worse than I thought! Not only was she too worked up to do the sensible thing and stop him, she was actually getting aroused by the fantasy of him getting her pregnant! Maybe she assumed the madari—who she still believed was me—knew something she didn’t. Maybe she thought the raja had told me he’d had a vasectomy. Or maybe she just trusted her husband implicitly to make the sensible choice for her, to protect her. If her husband rubbed her arm and nodded that it was okay, then it must be okay—that was all the reassurance she needed.

“Oh yes,” said the king, relishing the moment. “Let’s put a big, bouncing baby boy inside you. Here…it…comes.”

And I watched in horror as he pushed his hips hard into her. My wife gave a little squeak as he drove even deeper into her than he had done before and I imagined the thick, rubbery head pressing hard against her cervix. And then I saw his ass clench hard in the moonlight as he fired the first long, hot rope of cum into her.

No!

My mind was spinning. When was her last period? Oh, God, about two weeks ago!

Nandini let out a shriek as she felt the wet spurt of him hit home, but her body tensed with pleasure at the same time.

The raja grunted in satisfaction and shot again, stream after stream of thick, creamy cum, right up inside her, plastering that tiny hole. I imagined it oozing through and into her fertile cavern. With each blast, my wife jerked, writhing in pleasure (and supposed disgust) under him. We’d always used condoms. The feeling of a man coming inside her for the first time probably felt amazing. He’s stolen that from me, too! I should have been the first to do that!

The raja slumped on top of her for a second and then climbed off. She didn’t attempt to close her legs. Her knees lolled apart and I could see her shining pink lips and, between them, the creamy, glistening trickle of escaping sperm.

“There,” said the raja. “If you really were a virgin, you’ve known your first man.”

“You—You’ve ruined me,” my wife groaned. “You callous beast! Mine was to have been a white wedding!”

“No longer,” said the king, his voice cruel. “Your beloved sardar won’t want you now. Perhaps you’d better seek out that room at the tavern, and you can earn your keep on your back instead.” He pulled up his britches. I think he assumed that it was all over. I think we all did. But we were wrong.

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 19
“You—You bastard,” whispered my wife.

The raja frowned, surprised. He exchanged a glance with the lohar and the dancer. But he put on his raja voice. “What did you call me?” he boomed.

“Bastard,” breathed my wife. She was looking up at him, eyes gleaming. “You—You did your worst, but I didn’t talk. My friends are safe, and some day—Some day they’ll return and do what I could not: stab you through the heart in your sleep!”

The raja looked a little thrown, but then a slow smile spread across his face. He leaned down to her and, in his normal voice, asked, “Are you asking for more?” And he looked meaningfully towards the fire where the lohar and the dancer sat.

My wife followed his gaze and breathlessly nodded. Only then did she think to check with the madari…but he stroked her arm. If it’s what you want, he was telling her, then it’s alright with me.

Meanwhile, by the fire, my insides were twisting in fear. God, she can’t be asking for…not another man. God, please! I can’t watch this!

The raja smiled and straightened up. Back in character, he said. “You think it’s over?”

My wife snapped straight back into character as well. “You—You’ve done everything you can to me,” she said, a haughty tone in her voice. “There’s nothing more you can take from me.”

“Oh, you poor, naïve thing,” said the raja. “I’ve barely started.” He crouched down beside her. “If you don’t tell me where your ship is, I’ll let more men enjoy you.”

My wife made a big show of looking horrified. “W—Who?” she said.

The raja looked towards the fire. “I hear a big brute of a lohar kissed you in the village today. How about him? I’m sure I could wake him from his slumber at the forge and summon him here. Or perhaps that ‘uncouth beast’ who you claim took your underclothes at the formal dance. You sent him home with a mere token when I’m sure he longed for more. I wonder if he’d like to sample your charms now that you’re not in a position to refuse him.”

Nandini’s eyes gleamed and her breathing quickened. “N—No!” she told him. “No! You can’t!”

“I’ll let you choose,” he told her. “Who shall it be? Who would you rather have between your thighs…the muscled thug or the evil gentleman?”

My wife opened and closed her mouth a few times. She was more turned on than I’d ever seen her. “I—I—” She suddenly turned her head to the side, refusing to look at him. “I won’t give you the satisfaction,” she told him. “I won’t choose my own fate!”

The raja smirked. “If you won’t choose,” he said, his voice like poisoned syrup, “I’ll have to summon them both.”

My wife turned her head and stared at him for a second. Her wonderful breasts were rising and falling as she panted. The moment drew out…and then she turned her head firmly to the other side, refusing to answer.

My God! She wants both of them at once! This can’t be my wife!

But I knew it was. I knew that she’d always been like this, that I’d made a terrible, terrible mistake. All those years, I’d misjudged my wife. I’d thought she was shy when she was really just ashamed of her fantasies. I’d sat at my PC night after night feeding my hunger while she’d consumed endless historical Mughal novels to feed hers, neither of us brave enough to tell the other. Now, in finally indulging her fantasies, she was taking very real risks—she could very well wind up pregnant—and it was all my fault, because I wasn’t there to protect her!

I heard the raja approaching and looked up to see him looming over us. “What did I tell you?” he said to the lohar and dancer, his voice too low for Nandini to hear. “I said we’d all get a piece of her, once this irritating jerk was out of the way, and I was right.” He smiled down at me. “Your wife is a piece of work. I thought that she’d fuck me, that maybe these two would get a blow job. But not this!” He shook his head. “Your woman is hungry for it! What have you been doing: keeping her in a dungeon?”

I glared up at him, knowing it was useless to shout and rage.

“You two go ahead,” he told the lohar and the dancer. “I’ll watch hubby. Did you bring condoms?”

They both nodded, and my heart lifted.

“You won’t need them,” said the raja. “She’ll take it bareback.”

I let out a muffled howl of horror.

“Oh,” said the raja. “Does your path not like that idea?”

“She’s not on the pill,” said the lohar thoughtfully.

I hoped for a second that this might make them pause, but it had the opposite effect.

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 20
“Oh, really?” asked the king, delighted. “She’s all ready and fertile, is she? Is this her lucky week?”

I had no choice. I had to tell the truth and hoped it made them stop. I nodded.

“So we really could leave a baby inside her!” said the raja. “Tremendous!”

I gave a wail through the gag.

“Better get going,” the raja told the others. “She’s gagging for it over there.”

The lohar and the dancer got to their feet. I thought of the two of them having their way with my wife and my stomach shrank into a tight, hard knot. I tried to stand, determined to throw myself at them, head-butt them, something.

“Sit down,” the raja said, pulling me back down to the bench. “We can watch together.”

I wailed again, but with my hands and ankles bound there was nothing I could do. I sat forlornly on the bench, watching the two men approach my wife.

She gasped as she looked up and saw them. They were both big guys, but from down on the ground, they must have looked huge.

“Remember me, vaishya?” the lohar asked. “The raja tells us you’re protecting daaku keere. And that we could have some fun with you, until you spit out what he wants to know.”

“You left me hard at the dance,” the dancer told her. “Gave me your underclothes like a harlot, but denied me your body like a blushing virgin.” He looked at her still-open legs and the seed between them. “I see you’re no virgin. So you won’t deny me again.”

My wife made a gargling little moan and quickly closed her legs, crossing one ankle over the other.

“Oh, no need to be coy, my dear,” the dancer told her. “The raja told us what a little Randi you are.” And he knelt down at her feet and, taking an ankle in each hand, easily spread her legs apart. Her most private area was once again displayed, her lower lips flowering open.

“No, no no!” my wife wailed, thrashing her head. “No, you can’t! Not again!”

The dancer began running his hands up and down her pale thighs. “Tell us where your ship is anchored,” he said, “and we won’t.”

My wife set her jaw. “I won’t betray them!”

The dancer grinned and lowered his britches. A good-sized cock was revealed, not quite as thick as the king’s but a little longer.

“Wait,” said the lohar. “I have a better idea. Since all the vaishya says is ‘No,’ let’s put her mouth to better use.”

It was a credit to my wife’s acting skills that she actually managed to blink at him, as if confused, even though I was sure she knew exactly what he meant.

Grabbing the leather strip that bound her wrists, the lohar hauled her to her knees. Her lehenga fell back down into place, covering her lower body, but her dress remained where it was, pushed down below her breasts. She knelt there staring up at him, as if dazed, as he unfastened his britches and lowered them. His cock was in proportion to his massive body, the equal of the king’s, and my wife visibly gulped when she saw it.

“Use your mouth,” the lohar told her.

My wife let out a shuddering gasp. “W—What?! I cannot! Only wh—Randis do that!”

The lohar took hold of the back of her head with one massive hand and drew her nearer and nearer to his erect cock. It stood out stiff like a flagpole, twitching and bobbing as he breathed.

My wife stared at it in obvious lust, thought she continued to protest. “N-No! Please! Only a common harlot does such things!”

“Quiet,” growled the lohar, and guided the head into her open mouth.

Just as it entered, I saw my wife check the madari and get his nod. Every time it happened, it deepened the bitter ache inside me. If I could just speak to her, just once!

The lohar’s cock slid into Nandini’s mouth, the end of it stretching her cheek for a second, then sliding back over her tongue. She mewled as he neared the back of her throat but then, to my relief, he stopped. “Suck me,” he told her.

She made a noise of protest in her throat, gagged nearly as effectively as me.

“Does she need encouragement?” asked the dancer. And he squatted down next to my wife and took her breasts in his hands. For a moment he just played with them, kneading the ripe flesh and squeezing it together. Then he pinched both her nipples hard.

“MMFF!” groaned my wife around the cock, and I saw her cheeks hollow as she began to suck. Her lips formed a seal around the shaft and I could see the movements as her tongue went to work.

“Isn’t that a beautiful sight?” the raja asked me. I snapped out of my reverie—I’d been so focused on my wife that I’d almost forgotten he was there. “All that long, dark hair. That gorgeous body.... Thank you so much for bringing her to the nai nauchandi, Rishab . Very public-spirited of you.”

I turned and glared at him.

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 21
“Oh, don’t be so angry,” he said mildly. “You can’t blame me for what’s happening to her. You set all this in motion. I heard how you all but led her by the hand to the lohar’s forge, and how you got all hard watching my friend shove his tongue down her throat.”

A chill crept over me. I’d worked out that they’d targeted her for seduction, but I’d thought it had all been about her…not me.

“Oh, yes, Rishab ,” he told me, reading my surprise. “This is your doing. We saw that you were turned on by your wife with other men”—I shook my head wildly and he laughed—“even if you deny it. That’s the only reason the madari trick works. A normal man doesn’t let his wife fuck someone else—period. But you, Rishab , a nice little cuckold…you would. Or, at least, your wife believes you would, and that’s what counts.”

I wished a thousand horrible deaths on him. But I knew it was true. This was all my fault. In some twisted, horrible way, I’d gotten exactly what I’d wished for.

“Just look at her,” the raja said happily. “She’s getting what she’s always wanted…needed. And she’s so good at it, Rishab . When I was fucking her, I swear she was as tight as a real virgin. What on earth have you been porking her with?” And suddenly, his hands were on my robe, opening the front of it. I fought him, but with my hands tied it was useless. He reached under my robe, jerked my shorts down and pulled my cock out through the front of my robe.

“Oh,” said the raja. “Oh dear. Oh Rishab .” His voice was mockingly mournful. “Not very big, is it? And you’re all hard…”—he indicated the scene in front of us, my wife on her knees sucking the lohar, while the dancer waited his turn—“while watching that. You really are into seeing your wife with others, aren’t you?”

No! I thought desperately. But there was no denying it. My cock was throbbing, aching for me to stroke it. God, is he right? Am I really a cuckold?

The lohar was moving my wife’s head now, sliding her mouth back and forth on his cock. Only an inch or so, but a little more each time.

“Can Nandini deep throat?” the raja asked me.

I shook my head. Nandini didn’t really like giving head, and certainly not something that extreme.

“Well,” said the raja doubtfully. “It appears she’s about to learn.”

I watched as the lohar stepped a little closer to my wife, using one hand to tilt her chin up, making her head and neck lie in one straight line. I don’t think she realized what he was planning, though, until he smirked and ran a finger down the length of her pale throat.

Her eyes widened. She shook her head no, but all of us watched her bound hands carefully and she didn’t attempt to tap out. So the lohar smiled again—

“MMFF!” my wife pleaded.

--and pulled her forward, plunging his cock deep into her mouth. I saw her body jerk as the head pushed to the back of her throat, making her gag, and then he found the angle and was pushing down, down, groaning as her tightness clutched at him. I saw that long, thick cock disappear between her lips, until they kissed up against his groin.

My wife writhed there for a second, but it was a non-struggle, her bound hands thrashing in mid-air between them but making no attempt to actually push herself free.

The lohar stayed there for a second, allowing her to adjust to the feeling, and then he began to move. His cock shone as it emerged from her lips, and he withdrew it less than halfway before shoving it back in to the root, the wet sound of its movement reaching us even by the fire. I wanted to screw my eyes closed to shut it out. This was my wife, and another man was doing things to her that I’d never done myself! But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t close my eyes on the sight of her magnificent breasts bouncing and swaying as he moved her head back and forth, or her wide eyes staring up at him.

We’d all forgotten about the dancer. He’d been kneeling next to them, stroking his cock, and now he shuffled forward. “I’ll wait no longer,” he said with a snarl.

My wife looked up and went to draw the lohar’s cock from her mouth. But the dancer shook his head at her. “Oh, no, my dear. You don’t need to stop. I’ve no intambooion of taking you like a noble lady, on your back. You can serve me the same way all vaishyaes do—on your knees!” And he moved around behind her.

Nandini pulled her mouth free of the lohar’s cock. “I—I can’t!” she gasped. “Not two of you at once!” Her eyes were huge, but her cheeks were flushed with arousal at the idea.

[Givemeextra]

Chapter 22
The dancer was already behind her, his hands on her thighs. He pulled her backward so that she was stretched out between them, and she had to take some of her weight on her bound hands to stop her falling over. “You had your chance to be made love to like a lady at the dance,” he told her, flipping her lehenga up to reveal her naked rear. “Now you can be fucked like a cheap Randi.”

He lifted her upturned rump to a more pleasing angle and positioned himself for entry, nestling the end of his cock between her shining folds.

My wife was panting now with the idea of taking two men at the same time. “S—Stop! I—Please! You cannot!” But she didn’t say lion.

The lohar grasped her chin and, without words, pushed on her cheeks to pop her mouth open. Then he plunged his cock between her lips. A second later, she gave a muffled “MMFFF!” as the dancer entered her from behind.

“Stuck from both ends,” the raja said to me happily. “Just as she should be. Do you know, Rishab , I think she’s the most fun we’ve had with a woman at a nai nauchandi. Far better than that silky who keeps hanging around me.”

I stared straight ahead, trying not to listen. But that meant focusing on my wife, watching the cocks of the two men sliding into her. She let out a wail as they both filled her and, as they began to thrust, her eyes closed and she started to shake. She was already building up towards an orgasm, her mind exploding from the idea of having two men take her at once. And the fact wasn’t lost on them.

The dancer was clutching at her ass, squeezing the firm flesh, the tips of his fingers hooking around her thighs. “God, she’s squeezing me,” he told the lohar. “The Randi. I think she’s going to come.”

My wife shook her head in denial. Which of course only made them work harder. They both started to thrust faster into her, making her breasts sway like bells beneath her. Nandini was groaning and arching her back. After a few minutes, she began to circle her hips and push her ass back to meet the dancer’s thrusts. I had a sudden flash of memory—the one time I’d convinced Nandini to try this position. Afterwards, she’d blushed and gone shy when I’d asked her if she’d liked it. I was such an idiot! I thought she’d been ashamed of having done it, so I’d never asked her to do it again. I’d never considered that she might have been ashamed of how much she’d liked it!

“Ah,” said the lohar suddenly. “Ah, God….”

Nandini had closed her eyes, but now she opened them wide as she realized what he was about to do. She went to move her head off him.

“Oh, no,” said the dancer, leaning forward and pressing her head onto his friend’s cock. “You drink him down, you daaku Chinal.”

No! They didn’t know that Nandini always spat it out!

The lohar gave a sudden intake of breath and then he hissed, pushing his cock deep into my wife’s throat. I saw his hips jerk once, twice, three, four times and I knew from my wife’s reaction that he must be shooting his load: not in her mouth, where she could spit it out, but straight into her throat, giving her no choice but to accept him. I saw her throat work again and again as she swallowed him down into her stomach. I watched her hands, but she still didn’t tap out.

The lohar finally finished and stepped back, drawing his cock from her. My wife slumped forward on her bound hands, gasping. The dancer, still fucking her from behind, liked that position. He pulled her ass back towards him, stretching her out further, so that her cheek rested on the ground, her arms out above her head. Her breasts were now stroking the grass and her ass was raised high in the air. “That’s it,” he told her. “Face to the ground like a gutter Randi while I fill you full of my seed.”

My stomach clenched. God, another load inside her, and she was completely unprotected! And as before, my wife’s only concerns were part of the fantasy—she seemed to give no thought to the real-world implications.

“God, no,” she groaned. “Please, my lord, I’m sorry I abandoned you at the dance. Please, don’t come inside me! No man would accept me! I’d be forced out onto the street!”

“Yes,” the dancer said, his voice tight. “Pregnant and forced out onto the street with my bastard. Maybe you’ll have to Randi yourself out to survive.”

I could see the rush of arousal overtake my wife at the thought of that, her approaching orgasm speeding up. “N—No! I couldn’t!”

“I’ll be sure to pay you a visit. Perhaps I’ll be able to knock you up again.” And then I saw his face twist as he shoved himself all the way inside her. I remembered the length of his cock, thought of the head pushed right up against her limits, throbbing and tensing and—

I was watching my wife’s face, this time, as she felt the hot spurts inside her, the ones she’d never experienced with me. She lifted her head from the ground and gasped with each one, her back arching, her head straining towards the heavens.

And even as he came, the dancer was reaching beneath her, finding her swollen bud and circling it with his finger. It was all she needed to take her over the edge. She came, suddenly and powerfully, and I heard him groan as her pussy clenched and milked at him. He was still shooting into her, jerks of his hips as he filled her with his seed. “That’s it,” he told her. “Show me how much you love it.”

My wife shuddered and moaned and clawed at the ground with her bound hands, and eventually lay there gasping on her knees as he withdrew from her.

“Well,” said the raja with great satisfaction. “That appears to be that.” And he patted me on the back like an old friend.

[Givemeextra]

Chapter 23
I stared at my wife as she rolled onto her back. Her lehenga was up around her hips again, her naked breasts heaving. My mind was reeling at what she’d done, but at least it was over.

The raja strolled over to Nandini. “Now,” he told her. “I grow impatient with this game. Tell me what I want to know, or I’ll….”

I had actually started to relax a little. And I saw Nandini nod, feigning reluctance, as she planned to finally tell him the secret information and end the scene. We were just waiting while the raja searched his imagination for some awful punishment to threaten her with, something so depraved that of course she’d choose to give up the information instead.

“I’ll…I’ll throw you into a tamboo full of my sipahi,” he told her, “and tell them you’re one of the town Randi. I’ll tell them that I’ve negotiated a special price with your master, and they can have any of your holes for a copper coin.” He beamed, delighted with the threat.

We all looked at Nandini and, as expected, she looked horrified. We waited for her to hang her head and say something like. “I—I—They are at Skull Island, sire.”

Nandini hung her head. “I—I—” She hesitated. “I cannot betray them.”

There was absolute silence.

Oh God. Oh God no. Please, God no. Not that. She can’t!

The raja made the “Time out” sign with his hands. “I—Are you sure?!” he asked. “You’re talking about a whole tamboo full of men using you. A gang bang!”

Nandini swallowed. And then nodded.

The raja ran a hand through his hair. Please, I thought, stop, now. Tell her it’s too much.

“I…think we could probably arrange that. If it’s really what you want.” Then he looked at the madari. “And, of course, if your husband agrees.”

Everyone looked around at the madari. And he, of course, nodded his assent, stroking and rubbing both of my wife’s shoulders.

The raja glanced across at me, still sitting by the fire. “Actually,” he said suddenly, “I just want to check….”

My heart lifted. He did have a conscience. He was going to talk her out of it!

But yet again, I’d underestimated his cruelty. “Let me give you an alternative,” said the raja. “That’s a friend of mine sitting over there in the monk’s robe. He’s been watching you all day. A huge admirer. You can see he has his cock out, and it’s all hard and ready for you. Why don’t you role play something with him, instead of all those sipahi? He’s a really nice guy—kind and gentle.”

My wife turned her head and looked at me, and I leaned forward. I suddenly saw what the raja was doing. It was like a test. If she chose me—the small-cocked nice guy—he’d take me over to her and, once I was close enough, it was inevitable that she’d see under my hood and recognize me. The illusion would be over and I’d be able to stop the whole thing.

As long as she chose me.

I saw her bite her lip. Then she turned to the raja and said quietly, “I don’t want to hurt his feelings. Can he hear me from there?”

“No,” the raja lied. “Definitely not. Not from all the way over there.”

Nandini glanced my way again. “He’s a little…” She flushed. “He’s not what I want. Not right now. Sorry. He’s too…small.”

I felt my heart break. My one chance to put everything right, to expose the king’s trickery, and I’d lost it because I wasn’t muscled, or well-endowed, or an aggressive alpha male. I’d failed her yet again.

“That’s fine,” said the king, smiling. “I just wanted to check. And now, I’ll give you the scene you want.” He did that thing again where he turned away from her to get into character. When he turned back, his voice was booming. “I’m tired of this!” he yelled. “Tell me where the ship is, or I’ll throw you into a tamboo filled with my sipahi. They’ll be drunk by now and hungry for a woman!”

Nandini shrunk back from him as if scared. “H—How many?”

The raja grinned. “Ten. And I won’t introduce you as a nobleman’s daughter, nor a virgin, nor even a daaku vaishya. I’ll tell them you’re a Randi from the local town, and prone to lying and stealing. I’ll tell them they can do what they like with you…”—he leaned close to sneer at her—“as long as they pay you a copper coin for each fuck.”

“N—No!” gasped Nandini. “You can’t!”

“Oh, but I can,” said the raja. “Who do you think they’ll believe—their king, or a half-naked woman? They’ll ravish you all night…and they’ll make use of every one of your holes.”

I felt my insides go to water. Oh God. He couldn’t mean….

I saw my wife react to the same phrase. Only in her case, her eyes went glazed at the idea, her breathing quickening. “Y—You don’t mean—No! I couldn’t let them—not there!”

“Randis don’t get to choose how they’re taken,” he told her. “Now decide, once and for all—will you betray your belovedsardar and his friends, or will you become the plaything of my sipahi?”

I’d never seen Nandini so turned on. She sprawled there on the grass looking up at him, trying to look as if she was writhing in horror and disgust at what he was telling her, but practically rubbing herself against the grass like a cat in heat. She was panting, her nostrils flaring, her eyes heavy-lidded. “I—I—” She looked at the ground for a moment, gathering herself. “I cannot betray them,” she announced. “Throw me to the sipahi.”

The raja grabbed her bound wrists and jerked her to her feet. “Gladly,” he told her. And he started to march her back towards the nauchandi, leaving the lohar, the dancer and me to catch up.

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 24
On the journey back, I was a mess of emotions. I couldn’t believe this was really what my wife wanted…and yet I knew, deep in my heart, that it was. I hadn’t sensed her needs, and now she was sating them with the help of someone else—and she thought she had my blessing.

The madari strolled along happily beside the raja and my wife. My wife was, in theory, being dragged along as a helpless prisoner, but she was so eager to reach the tamboo that she was almost the one doing the dragging. The lohar and the dancer each had an arm under one of mine, towing me along so that we didn’t fall too far behind.

When we reached the nauchandi, the raja finally jerked my wife’s dress up to cover her breasts, so that we didn’t attract too much attention. Her hands were still bound, but given some of the half-naked people we saw running around between the tamboos, there were much stranger things going on than some BDSM games.

The raja told us to wait outside while he went into the tamboo where the sipahi were. We all heard him tell the men the whole story. How there was a guest—they’d probably seen her earlier, getting a spanking—who had a gang bang fantasy. How she wanted it to be in character, with her as a noble woman the raja had told them was a Randi. How they could all fuck her.

“Wait,” I heard one guy say. “I don’t like this. Are we going to get in trouble?”

“No. She absolutely wants it. It was her idea. She has a safeword—‘lion’. Or she can tap three times. If she does that, stop. Anything else, you keep going.”

“That’s what you say,” a man said.

“I’ll get her to confirm it all when she comes in here. Then you go into character,” the raja told him.

“And we can do anything to her?” asked another guy.

“Anything,” confirmed the raja.

I heard Nandini give a soft moan and saw her actually weaken at the knees a little on hearing that.

“Wait, wait,” said a man’s voice. “Is she a Randi or a noble lady? I’m confused.”

The raja sighed. “She’s a noble lady. But you don’t know that—you think she’s a Randi because that’s what you’ve been told. So treat her like a Randi.”

Again, that little moan from my wife.

“And there’s one more thing,” said the raja. “Her husband will be with her, in a madari costume, and—” His voice dropped to a whisper, and we couldn’t hear him. But I knew he was explaining about the trick they were playing when I heard the cruel sniggers.

A moment later, the raja stepped out of the tamboo. “You,” he said, pointing at me. “I know you want to watch this. You come in first.”

The lohar and the dancer pushed me through the tamboo flap and I staggered inside. And gulped.

There were indeed ten sipahi in there, all still in their shining armor. None of them was under six feet tall. All of them were smirking at me. As I’d suspected, the raja had told them who I really was.

Before I knew what was happening, I’d been pushed onto a bench in the far corner of the room. Ropes were run around the seat and then around my thighs, binding me securely to it. When they’d finished and covered the ropes with my robe, it looked as if I was simply sitting there…but there was no way I could move. And then they put the speakers from the music system they were using right next to me and started a playlist of mughal era music. It was loud enough that you had to raise your voice a little even in the center of the tamboo. In the corner, where I was, it was easily loud enough to cover my grunts and moans. They left my cock uncovered, and I was appalled to find it was stiff at the thought of what was going to happen.

The madari entered next. Before my wife arrived, he looked right at me and gave me a bow, and all the sipahi laughed.

Then, finally, the raja opened the tamboo flap. Outside, I could see my wife giving the lohar a long, lingering kiss. Then she repeated it with the dancer. They both waved at me as if I was an old friend before strolling off into the night.

The raja turned to my wife. “Sure?” I heard him say.

Nandini nodded. “Sure.” She paused. “Thank you,” she said. “This has been…amazing.”

The raja leaned in and kissed her. I watched the sipahi grin at one another. Then he showed my wife gently into the tamboo. “This is Nandini,” he told them. “The guest I was telling you about. Nandini, do you understand the scene we’re going to role play?”

My wife nodded. “I’m going to be”—she flushed—“used like a Randi by all of you.”

They’d known to expect it, but to hear a beautiful woman say it was still a shock. I heard several of them swear delightedly under their breath.

“What’s your safeword?” asked the raja.

“Lion,” said my wife.

“What if you can’t speak?”

“I tap my fingers together three times,” said Nandini. She looked at the madari. He ran over to her and rubbed her arm, nodding, then retreated.

The raja looked around the tamboo to see if anyone had any doubts that she wanted it. There were none. Right at the end of his sweep, his eyes found me, and he grinned. I swore at him, my muffled grunt lost in the music.

The raja swept out of the room again, taking my wife with her, the tamboo flap closing behind them. It stayed closed for a moment and I knew that, outside, the raja was waiting, letting everything sink in for the sipahi…and for me. I silently begged my wife to change her mind. Surely, she must realize that something’s up? I thought. That I couldn’t possibly agree to this? But I remembered all too clearly what I’d told her: I don’t think we should set a limit. I’ll be there. I’ll just stop you if it’s too much. I’d set the trap myself; the raja and his friends had only sprung it.

The tamboo flap flew open. “GENTLEMEN!” bellowed the raja. “In payment for all the hard work you’ve put in guarding this nauchandi, your raja seeks to reward you. Take this ale!” And he pushed a wooden barrel of ale with his foot, sending it rolling into the tamboo so fast that the sipahi had to scramble to catch it. They cheered and applauded, some already running to find tankards. “And take this Randi!” the raja yelled, and flung my wife forward. He’d retied her wrists behind her, I saw, and that simple action both left her more helpless and thrust her chest forward, making her already impressive breasts bulge even more. The men roared their approval.

“W—What?!” my wife gasped. “But I’m not—”

“Pay no attention to what she says,” the raja told them. “She’s a liar and a thief. Watch your purses. Her cost is one copper coin per fuck.”

My wife spun to look at him. “No! No, you can’t! Tell them the truth!”

“You see?” asked the raja. “She’s a liar. Now: drink, fuck and make merry.” And he turned on his heel and was gone.

The sipahi surrounded my wife, many of them already clutching foaming tankards. The barrel of ale was a master stroke by the king, instantly creating the illusion of a party.

“She’s a pretty one,” said one sipahi. He reached out to stroke her cheek and she pulled away from him. He laughed.

“A copper coin, eh?” said another. “I’ll wager she’s worth that, and more besides.”

My wife frantically shook her head. She was panting with arousal, and I could tell she was savoring the feeling of utter helplessness. “I’m not a Randi!” she told them. “I’m a noble woman! You must believe me!”

“Yes, yes,” said one of them, as they closed in around her. “Do noble women have breasts like these?” And he yanked down her dress, baring her breasts once more. She gasped, and made as if to cover herself, but with her hands tied she was powerless to stop them looking.

“A fine pair,” said one.

“I want to see them wrapped around my cock,” said another. “What will that cost me?”

My wife was shaking her head. “You—You can’t! I’m not—”

Two more moved in on either side of her and started to haul her lehenga up, teasing the others by revealing her inch by inch.

“Stop!” she panted. “Don’t! Don’t do that!” She tried to dodge away, but she was held firmly in place now. Two men each had a hand on a breast, squeezing and kneading them, and she gasped. Then a man standing behind her twisted her head to the side so that he could kiss her. “No!” she said. “No, don—mmfff!”

Her protests were silenced as the sipahi behind her mashed his ale-wet lips to hers and kissed her deeply. Meanwhile, her lehenga was rising up above the tops of her jooti…over her knees…up her thighs…. As she felt it climb dangerously high, she non-struggled against the men holding her. Then it happened. The lehenga rose above her naked sex.

“Look at that!” said one of them. “No underclothes—she really is a Randi.”

Another sipahi shoved his hand between her thighs. My wife jerked and moaned, but any protest was lost in the kiss. “She’s dripping wet,” the sipahi announced. He indicated a rivulet of creamy sperm on the inside of her thigh. “And she’s already entertained a few customers!”

“I’ve seen enough,” said one man, pulling his armor off and dumping it on the ground. “Here’s my coin.” And he flung a copper coin at her so that it bounced off her flat, toned stomach. “Get the vaishya on her back!”

Someone used a knife to cut the leather thong binding her wrists. She was free for a second, but then four strong hands grabbed her wrists and knees and she was lifted into the air, her lehenga hanging down from her waist, her dress pushed down below her breasts, her jooti kicking in the air. “W—What?” she gasped, thrashing around, her long hair hanging down like a silken curtain. “N—No! Don’t!” I watched the sipahi listening to her, wondering if she was going to back out and say “Lion.” But she didn’t.

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 25
They laid her down on the ground and spread-eagled her, a man to each limb.

“You—You can’t do this!” she said breathlessly. “I am of noble blood!”

“Aye,” said one. “Noble women oft find themselves in a tamboos like these, on their backs for coin.”

The sipahi who’d paid pushed down his britches, brandishing a thick cock. He advanced on her.

My wife was flushed with arousal, her eyes fixed on his cock. “I am not what he told you!” she said. “I am no Randi!”

“Well, if you aren’t,” the sipahi said, kneeling between her spread thighs. “You soon will be.” Her sex was perfectly presented to him between pale thighs, set off by the black daaku jooti, its pink lips already shining with moisture and slightly parted from her position. He placed the head of his cock between them.

His naked cock.

It hit me like a bombshell. I’d been thinking so hard about how they’d use her helpless body that I hadn’t considered the implications if they neglected to use condoms. Either the raja had told them that they didn’t need to, or more likely he’d left it up to my wife to tell them. And by this stage, the idea of them spilling their seed in her only increased her arousal. My mind shredded. With a tamboo full of men, she would almost certainly get pregnant, and we’d have no idea who the father was!

Nandini stared down at the cock. “No,” she begged. “God, don’t. Please!”

The sipahi grinned…and thrust into her. Wet as she was, he slid in almost all the way in on his first thrust. “Ah!” he gasped. “She’s good and tight, but wet as a river,” he announced, and the others laughed and cheered, clinking tankards and spilling beer.

My wife bucked and twisted beneath him as he began to thrust. Lanterns hanging from the ceiling made it much lighter in the tamboo than it had been outdoors, and I could see every detail. I could see her pink lips stretched tight around the girth of him, see her lips pull outward a little as he moved out and stretch in as he plunged back in. He lowered himself atop her a little more so that his shirt rubbed against her breasts, and she groaned before she could stop herself. The other sipahi cackled at this admission of pleasure.

I shook my head, the movement almost invisible beneath the hood, as I watched my wife taken. This was just the first, I knew, and I looked around at the waiting men in disbelief. They were all so big, and so strong, and the thought of her poor body taking one after another of them, a procession between her thighs…God, they’ll break her! Or stretch her so she’ll never be the same!

The sipahi on top of her began to thrust, quick hard strokes that shifted her whole body along the ground, straining the hands holding her. He was showing off for his friends, I realized, showing them how hard he could fuck her. They would all want to do that, show off in their own way…God, they’re going to use her like a sex doll! But Nandini was already groaning with pleasure as the cock slammed into her again and again, her wetness no doubt making even the hard thrusts satiny smooth. Her eyes had fluttered closed and I could see that her nipples had hardened to stiff peaks where they rubbed against her lover’s chest. Within ten strokes, she was flexing her pelvis subtly up at him. Within twenty, it was no longer subtle.

“She’s loving it,” said the sipahi pinning her right wrist to the ground. “The Randi’s loving it!”

My wife’s eyes flew open. “N—No!” she said, shame-faced.

“Make her come,” suggested another.

“What? No! Don’t!” She began to non-struggle again, trying her best to convey that an orgasm would be the worst humiliation in the world…and therefore exactly what she needed.

“Yes,” said another sipahi, hunkering down by her gasping face. “Make her know what a Randi she is.”

The one fucking her obediently changed his approach. He moved from supporting himself on his knees to putting most of his weight on her, grinding his groin against her clit on each stroke, rocking rather than thrusting. Immediately, my wife started to thrash her head from side to side. “No!” she said. “No, God, don’t! I don’t want to—”

“Keep going,” said the one by her face, staring at her even more closely. “She’s almost there.”

Nandini was shaking her head, the tension building up in her body. “No! No, I can’t, I’m a noble woman, I can’t—I—God, no…God no…God…God…God—”

The whole tamboo cheered as she suddenly went rigid in their grasp, the waves of a climax wracking her body. The man inside her grunted. “God, I can feel it,” he told his friends, his voice strained. “She’s clamping down on me!”

My wife let out a strangled moan and went limp. The man inside her returned to his hard thrusts, building quickly in pace, and I knew what was coming. “I’m going to fill her up,” he announced.

Nandini raised her head at that. Please, I thought, come to your senses! Just say ‘Lion’ for a moment and tell them they have to use condoms! Then you can carry on, just please don’t get pregnant!

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 26
But my wife just looked across at the madari and saw his nod. And then she licked her lips and said, “N—No! Please, don’t come inside me!”

The whole tamboo stared at her.

“Please! Don’t get me pregnant!” she begged. I—and all of the sipahi—could actually see her grind her hips in lust as she said the words. “You must all pull out!” she told them.

There was a kind of shocked silence as it sank in that she hadn’t said Lion, and clearly meant the exact opposite. I could actually feel the ripple of lust move through the room.

“No,” the man inside her said.

And of course her eyes went wide with pretend fear and genuine lust. “Oh, no! Please! Don’t! Don’t come inside me!”

The other sipahi leaned in. “Fuck yeah,” one of them said, forgetting his character for a moment.

“Do it,” another said. “Do it, fill her up.”

“Let’s all do it,” said another, his voice thick with lust. “Let’s give the Randi a little bastard to remember us by. Let’s knock her up!”

They all cheered and Nandini’s gaze flicked between them, her eyes glazed with sexual heat at the enormity of what she’d unleashed. Meanwhile, in the corner, I wanted to weep.

“I’m…coming—” said the man inside her in a strangled gasp. “God, I’m coming right inside her—Ahhh!”

And I saw his naked ass clench as he fired blast after blast of thick cum right at her waiting womb. My wife thrashed in ecstasy. “Yesss…” Then, remembering herself, “Nooo!”

The sipahi pulled out of her and, even from my position in the corner, I could see his creamy sperm start to trickle out from between her shining lips. To my horror, the next man had already shed his armor and was climbing between her legs. A big man with long, wavy black hair, he dwarfed her body, hulking over her like a monster.

“God, not another,” she gasped. “I—I can’t, not so soon—”

“We’re going to fill you all night,” the man told her. Then he dropped a copper coin on her stomach. “Here’s my payment, Randi. Now give me a ride.”

He shoved down his britches and I gasped as I saw his erect cock. It was longer and thicker even than the king’s, the glans purple-pink and as large as a plum. My wife’s eyes bulged when she saw it. “God! So—So big! I can’t!”

“I’ll wager you’ve known bigger in your career, though no doubt you’ve lost count.” He positioned himself at her by-now well-moistened entrance. He grinned. “Hold her firmly, lads.”

The hands on her wrists and ankles tightened, stretching her out on the ground, though she wasn’t even making a pretense of struggling now. I saw the cock start to push into her, its size stretching her lips inward. The head slid in, slowing as it widened…and then stopped. It was lodged at its widest point, the girth of the head stretching Nandini’s lips wide.

I looked at my wife’s face. Her mouth was open and panting as she gazed down in disbelief at the enormous cock trying to penetrate her. Her eyes were shining with a lust I’d never seen before. She wanted it. She wasn’t sure if she could take him, but she wanted it. It hit me that she hadn’t even looked at the madari before this man had started. “So big,” she breathed, the words almost a chant, “So big, so big, God….”

No! I thought. God, no! Don’t put that in her! I imagined her stretched and ruined, unable to even feel me.

The other men snickered cruelly at her words. “She can take it,” they told their friend. “She’s had plenty of practice.”

The man grinned…and pushed.

My wife arched her back and took her weight on her shoulders, her head pressing hard into the ground. “Ahhh!” she moaned. It didn’t sound like pain. It sounded more like shock, that she couldn’t believe she was opening so wide. But her body was well-lubricated and plRishab t from the sex and, quite suddenly, the cock slid forward into her, her body closing tight around it.

Now she jerked her head up, staring at the man who was taking her. “God! Don’t—don’t move!” she said. “Too big!”

She hadn’t used her safe word, but the man grinned at her and didn’t move for a moment, perhaps taking pride in his size. After a few seconds, she seemed to relax and her head sank back down. After a few seconds more, I saw her very gently move her hips. She was exploring his size, testing to see if it hurt. As the flexing and rolling of her hips grew, it became clear that it didn’t. The man still didn’t move—he’d asked for a ride, after all, and she was giving him one. His size seemed to have made her forget her noblewoman’s role completely, and she was quite lost in the feeling of simply moving around him.

The hands holding her wrists and ankles gradually relaxed. They let her lie there and sinuously flex her body, moving in slow waves as she caressed the gRishab t cock, easing her hips back and forth along it. “God,” she whispered, eyes distant and staring at the ceiling. “God….”

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 27
The sipahi all laughed at the sight of an experienced Randi reduced to such helplessness by a cock. They watched as her movements became more and more insistamboo, until she was swirling her hips around and around while lewdly thrusting her pelvis up at her stationary lover. She was fucking him…but it wasn’t enough for her. I could see her getting more and more aroused, but she couldn’t move herself fast enough or hard enough for the storm of her orgasm to break. She swallowed and whispered something I couldn’t hear.

“What?” asked the man. “What do you want me to do?”

My wife blushed and she twisted her head to the side, unable to meet his eyes. But he brushed his hand over her bare breasts, grazing her trembling nipples, and she gasped and looked at him. “T—Take me,” she said. “I want you to take me.”

The man moved his hips just a little, easing his cock into her no more than an inch. “Like that?” he asked mockingly. “Gently?”

The others laughed. My wife blushed even more. “No,” she said in a small voice. “Roughly.”

“What? I can’t hear you.”

Nandini was helplessly swirling her groin, desperate. “Roughly,” she panted. “Take me roughly.”

The man almost snarled in victory. “Lift your knees up,” he told her. “Open yourself up to me.”

They’d let go of her completely, now, so she was able to slide her jooti along the ground until her feet were flat on the floor and her knees were in the air.

“Wider,” the man told her.

Nandini opened her thighs wide…then wider. She gasped as she felt the change of position moving him inside her.

“Now,” said the man. And he began to fuck her.

Almost immediately, Nandini was moaning. She’d been trying so hard to get that vital friction for herself that, now it was there, she was immediately teetering on the edge of an orgasm. As the big cock plunged in and out of her, I could see her begin to climb the final hill towards her crest. The thickness of his cock had her stretched wide, and its length was so great that even on the deepest thrust, there was still an inch or two of it outside her. She started to twist and writhe as her climax approached, her body getting ready—

The sipahi suddenly slowed his thrusts and came to a stop, buried as deep as he could inside her. His face was strained from holding back, but he managed to growl down at her, “Do you want it? All of it?”

She panted up at him, dumbfounded. “I—I’m not sure I can,” she said at last.

“But you want it?” he said.

She nodded shyly, though her eyes were glazed with lust.

The sipahi hunkered low over her so that their faces were just inches apart. He drew back a few inches.

No! I thought. God—don’t!

And then, with a grunt, he pressed steadily but firmly forward.Nandini’s eyes went huge as she felt him move deeper and deeper inside her, stretching her very limits. “God!” she gasped. “God!” Her hands came up to clutch at his shoulders, her eyes squeezing shut—

And he stopped. He was completely buried inside her. And at the realization of that, her orgasm released. I saw her clutch him tight and tremble, and at the same time he gave a long exhalation and came as well. It was a strange, almost silent climax, with neither of them moving even an inch, but their faces told me that she was spasming and clutching at him inside, and that his cock was spurting again and again, tight up against her cervix.

He finally withdrew from her, and I stared at her gaping lips in horror. She lay there on her back, sperm trickling from between her spread thighs, taken in the truest sense of the word. Taken from me.

And that was only the first two men.

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 28
“Get her up,” said someone, and I thought for a moment that they meant to stand her, to allow her to wash or rest. But they simply lifted her and coaxed her onto her hands and knees, and my heart sank as I saw the third man kneel behind her. This one only bothered to remove a single piece of his armor to allow him to free his hard cock. He yanked her lehenga down her legs and off, but left her jooti and the pushed-down dress in place. His armored knees nudged her thighs apart and he ran his gloved hands over her smooth ass cheeks, the hard metal of his fingers a stark contrast to her softness. Then he rammed his cock into her moistened sex.

Even as she let out a moan , another man was stepping up in front of her, and I realized with dread that they meant to take her two at a time. He, too, only bothered to remove the bare minimum before kneeling in front of her, and used a finger to lift her head and make her look at his cock.

My wife visibly licked her lips, but then seemed to hesitate for a second. I could see, just for an instant, the guilt. The thought What am I doing?! must have gone through her head. I held my breath. Maybe she’d come to her senses. Maybe she’d stop!

But the madari had seen it too, and he sauntered over to her….

No! Don’t do it!

…and gently stroked her shoulder, letting her know that her “husband” was okay with what she was doing. But that alone wasn’t enough to overcome her guilt. She was still a married woman in her late twenties with friends and a reputation and the judgmental eye of society weighing down on her. She couldn’t allow herself to be roughly used by two men at once, however handsome and strong they were. Unless….

“P—Please,” she said, making her eyes go big and scared. The man behind her stopped his thrusts to listen. “I can’t! Not two of you at once! I’m not a Randi! I’m a noble woman! Don’t make me do this!”

The sipahi holding his cock before her lips smiled as she slipped back into character. “Some noble woman!” he told his friends. “She arrives with the seed of her last customer staining her thighs and asks us to believe she’s respectable!”

I saw my wife’s cheeks flare as his callous tone whipped her sexual heat even higher. “N—No!” she said. “I was a virgin, until this night! I am faithful to my one true love!” Already, her eyes were starting to glaze as she lost herself in the fantasy and the guilt dissolved—another small push would do it. She reached up to the sipahi’s hips, pawing at him. “Please, believe me!”

Another sipahi suddenly seized her hands. “She reaches for your purse!” he shouted. “The raja told us she was a thief!”

“Tie her hands!” said another.

“W—What?” gasped my wife. Almost instantly, I saw her eyes go glassy with arousal, the thought of being utterly helpless overtaking her. “N—No! No, don’t tie my hands!”

The sipahi smirked at each other, expertly reading her hidden meaning. I wondered how often these guys played similar games with submissive women. Were fantasies like my wife’s far more common than I’d thought?

Nandini’s wrists were bound behind her back with a leather thong. I saw her wrists snap against the leather once, twice, and then a tremor ran through her body as she realized it was going to hold firm. She was powerless.

With the man behind her still deep inside her pussy, they leaned her forward towards the other man’s waiting cock. “Open wide,” he grinned.

My wife was panting and gasping, almost drunk with arousal, eyes locked on the cock as she was moved towards it. Her bound arms made her breasts jut temptingly forward, and a couple of guys reached in to start fondling them. “God! No! Not my mouth!” she panted, tossing her hair back over her shoulders. “God! Don’t make me take you—” Her plea was cut off as the cock plunged between her open lips, and they kept moving her forward. I saw inch after thick inch of the cock advance into her mouth, until the head must have been at the very back of her throat. She twisted and writhed, and I saw them all looking closely at her bound hands. It hit me that they were watching to see if she tapped her fingers together to tap out, but she didn’t.

“Should I keep going?” asked the one in her mouth, his voice heavy and slow with hunger. He brushed my wife’s cheek with his thumb. “Right down her gullet?”

My wife heard that and made the expected mumbled plea around his length, but they ignored her, focused only on her hands and the one sign they’d obey if it came.

“Why not?” said one of his friends. “She’s a Randi. She’ll likely be an expert at it.”

No! I thought. That’s my wife! And she’d almost never given head, and her first attempt at deep throat was only that evening! But when I tried to shout, my gag reduced it to a moan that was swallowed by the music.

The sipahi placed his hands on my wife’s cheeks and pulled her slowly forward, and my wife’s eyes bulged as he pushed through her tight opening and down into her throat. He shuffled forward a little and it went deeper, deeper…right down to the root. “Amazing,” he grunted, losing his Bengali accent. “Tight and hot. You have to try this.” Then he remembered himself. “The Randi’s throat grips my cock like a scared novice grips his sword. You should make use of her!” Everyone cheered and applauded him, and someone thrust a tankard of ale into his hand.

My wife, meanwhile, was trying to breathe around his cock. I could see her chest moving and her nostrils flaring, so I knew she was okay, but she must have felt vulnerable—helpless— and that must have inflamed her lust even more, because she went to work on his cock. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked and I saw her jaw move as her tongue lashed his shaft.

“The harlot’s working her magic on me,” the sipahi announced as he drank his ale. “Fuck her—give her some extra encouragement!” he said to the man behind her. His friend began to thrust again, holding her hips in both hands as he drove into her. With the two men in almost full armor and my wife almost naked between them, two cocks stuffed deep in her, it was an obscene—and electrifying—tableau, the maiden ravished by the rampaging sipahi as they sacked a city.

I felt my cock stiffen even more. God, what was wrong with me? I’d wanted to see my wife lusted over, perhaps kissed or touched, but not this, not men using her as their plaything! But I couldn’t deny that it was turning me on. The way her breasts swayed and bounced, her upturned, perfect rear, clasped between the sipahi’s armored gloves, her huge eyes as she stared up at the sipahi in front of her, begging for mercy and getting none, his cock pushed obscenely deep between her lips. And then there was a merry jingle of money and both men were tossing their copper coins onto her back so that they lay gleaming against her pale skin, a reminder of her status—

I closed my eyes for a second. God, no! Even without stroking myself, I’d almost come.

I heard the slap, slap, slap of the man behind her as he sped up, and imagined his thickness spreading her wide. He wasn’t as big as the man before him, but with her on her knees, he could enter her more completely. I heard the wet sucking sound as she tended to the cock in her mouth, its owner still not moving, letting her do all the work while he watched and drank. The sounds grew faster. Faster. Faster.

My eyes flew open. I couldn’t help it—I had to see.

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 29
The man behind her was pumping into her hard, now, his jaw clenched with the effort of holding back. The one in front of her had finally started to move, stroking just a few inches in and out of her mouth. Their movements made her breasts bounce and sway so alluringly that the men standing around her again reached in and started to stroke and squeeze the lush orbs. I could see Nandini’s body begin to tremble as she built towards another orgasm.

Before she could get there, though, the man behind her suddenly pulled almost all the way out and then rammed all the way in, a single long thrust that ended with him gasping and panting as he came. My eyes were locked on his heavy balls as he emptied what seemed to be a generous load deep inside her. The sight of it must have set off his friend, because he, too, pushed deep…and then clamped her head to his groin as he fired jet after jet of cum down her throat.

They both pulled out of her and she sat back on her haunches, gasping. But almost immediately, another man wanted his turn. He pushed her forward again on her knees, but with her hands bound behind her and no one holding her at the front, she had to lower herself down to rest on her head and shoulders, her face twisted to the side, her cheek on the ground. Her back formed a beautiful, cat-like arch, her ass high in the air. It was a humiliating position to be in, which was no doubt their intambooion.

The man behind her opened his britches and freed his stiff cock. But instead of entering her, he brought out a small, ornate glass bottle. He uncapped it and then poured it at the base of her spine, so that it trickled down the valley between her ass cheeks. My wife cried out in shock as she felt the liquid pool and run down…to coat her puckered, nether hole.

I sat up bolt upright on the bench. No! Not that!

Nandini turned her head as best she could to stare back at the man. “No!” she said in a strangled gasp. “I’ve never done it—there!”

The men laughed at that. “I’ll wager you’ve had a hundred cocks or more in all your holes,” said the one behind her. He placed a finger at her oiled entrance and circled her there.

My wife gasped. “Ahhh! God, no! I’m not—You can’t do this to me!” Again, the role came to the fore to banish her guilt. “You…you beasts! I’m of noble blood! How dare you!” I could almost read her thoughts. If I’m helpless, it’s okay to do it…okay to enjoy it. It sank in that she could have said “Lion.” She wanted this, this forbidden act. She just needed the excuse to try it.

The sipahi behind her plunged his finger into her, drawing a high little cry from her that made the men laugh. He slowly pushed it further and further into her, and I watched her perfect, pale ass clench as she felt herself entered there for the very first time.

“God, no! Please!” she moaned. “I’ve never—” Her pleas were cut off as he started to thrust the finger in and out, replaced with a low moan. That raised more laughter. It occurred to me that they probably really did think she was experienced. They knew she was playing a role, of course, that she wasn’t really a Randi. But they likely presumed that any woman who’d suggest this sort of sex game was a fully-fledged swinger, or active on the BDSM scene. They had no idea they were fucking a shy woman who’d only ever slept with me her entire life. Or that this really was the first time even a finger had entered her in that forbidden place.

The finger was drawn from her, and I saw the sipahi pour some more of the liquid—some sort of oil, I presumed—over his cock, until it glistened and shone. Then he raised himself up on his knees and spread her cheeks.

I saw Nandini draw a deep breath in. Her cheek was to the floor, her wrists tugging at her bonds—but she made no attempt to tap out. “God!” she panted. “Not there! Please not there!” Her face was growing red. “Only—Only Randis and strumpets take it…there!”

“Aye,” said the man behind her, nestling the slippery head against her oiled hole. “They do. And so if you really are a noble woman, then you lose that title…now!” He pushed hard against her and the thick, arrow-shaped head pressed for entrance. I saw her eyes widen at the feeling, her breath coming in quick little gasps. He eased back a little, then pushed again, rocking her forward slightly, and she opened to him a little more, groaning at the feeling of being spread and stretched. On the third push, he kept going. Her eyes opened wider, wider—and then her mouth opened in a wide, dark “O” as she felt him slide inside her.

I sat forward on the bench, worried that he would hurt her. But he went slow, and her face registered no pain, only shock at the new sensations. He was only in her a few inches, but sliding deeper millimeter by patient millimeter.

Another sipahi, though, was less patient. Opening his britches, he sat down on the floor at right-angles to her, lifted her head from the floor and shuffled beneath it so that her head was over his cock. With her wrists bound, she could do nothing but accede to his wishes. She stared down at the throbbing head, her fate inexorable, as he slowly lowered her towards it. “I’m a noble woman,” she panted, non-struggling against his hands. “You can’t treat me like—MMFF!”

The sipahi gave a groan as her lips sank over the head of his cock. Almost immediately, they sealed tight around the shaft and her tongue went to work on him. “If she is a noble woman,” he told the others, “she must have spent all her days on her knees servicing lords. She sucks like a gutter Randi.” I saw my wife’s cheeks flare…and her eyes close in ecstasy.

Behind her, the man continued to sink his cock deeper…deeper. He was half into her before he started to pull out. Immediately, Nandini gave a muffled wail at the unfamiliar sensation, but as he plunged forward again it turned into a moan. He began to thrust, very slowly, and the sight of his thickness disappearing between her cheeks had me harder than I’d ever been in my life. I was trying to reconcile, in my mind, the woman I saw on her knees before me and the shy wife I knew. Had she changed…or had she always been like this, underneath, and I’d been too stupid to see it?

[Givemeextra]

CHAPTER 30
The man using her mouth began to move her head, but unlike the others he didn’t try to enter her throat. He pumped just the first few inches of his cock in and out of her mouth, tangling his hands in her silken hair and drawing it back from her face to give him a better view. And it was a beautiful sight. Her gorgeous face was set in an expression of lustful concentration, her soft lips around his hard shaft. She had her eyes closed, and with her long lashes and her cheekbones accentuated by her hollowed cheeks, she looked exquisitely feminine, in the midst of all those hulking men, like a fallen angel.

The man behind her drew his cock almost all the way out of her…and then, with one long, slow thrust, he pushed all the way in, right to the root. I saw Nandini jerk as he reached her very limits, and the man groaned, probably luxuriating in the sensation of her tensing around him.

And then he began to thrust. Nandini let out a high little “MMF!” on each stroke, and the cries quickly become an obscene accompaniment to the scene. There was a shift in mood in the tamboo…something about the sight of her being taken in that intimate place, in such a submissive pose. The sipahi closed in around her, many of them stroking their cocks. Hands reached for her breasts, squeezing and kneading, her nipples pinched until they stood achingly hard and she moaned in pleasure.

Nandini had been close to an orgasm before—I’d seen her start to tremble. But it had been defused when the last two men finished. Now, though, it was building quickly. I could see it in the way she flexed her pelvis, the way she panted around the cock in her mouth. The idea of what was being done to her, I suspected, as much as the sensations themselves, was sending her speeding towards the edge.

The man behind her sped up, his hands hard on her hips as he held her in place and hammered his cock into her. The man at her head began to jerk his hips, getting ready to shoot, bobbing her head up and down on his length. Both of them reached a fever pitch and then, just as they were about to release, my wife suddenly let out a sharp cry and went rigid between them. Her back arched, her ass pressing back against her lover, and I actually saw her ass clench around him as she came.

That was too much for the man inside her. He pushed deep and yelled as he shot his load, and I saw her jerk and gasp as she felt his hot seed in that forbidden place. Almost at the same time, the man in her mouth went very still, his eyes tight shut. He had his hands buried in Nandini’s hair, the head of his cock in her mouth, and the only sign I had that anything was happening was my wife’s sudden yelp of surprise, and then her cheeks ballooning as his seed filled her mouth.

“Swallow,” the sipahi told her, his cock still between her lips. He pulled out a copper coin and tossed it to the ground beside her. “I’ve paid my coin, now swallow.”

I saw Nandini’s throat work once, then again. He lifted her head off his cock and her mouth opened. Empty. The sipahi cheered.

The man behind her slowly withdrew, and they let her slump to her side on the ground, her hands still bound behind her back. I shook my head in dismay. It was obscene! They were using her like, like—

Like a Randi. Exactly what she’d wanted. But this was my wife, the one who’d sworn herself to me until death do us part, forsaking all others.

And I’d been the one to toss those rules aside. To coax her into tempting other men. I’d pushed the limits for my own selfish needs…and now our marriage was a mockery. And the thing that ate at me most, as I sat there bound and gagged, was that it was still getting me hard. Even completely out of control and unsanctioned, seeing her with another man—with all these men—still made a deep, dark charge of lust explode in my core.

I realized that Nandini hadn’t checked with the madari for some time. And as she lay there with her eyes closed, smiling blissfully, enjoying the afterglow of her orgasm, she showed no signs of doing so. We’d passed the point of no return. She assumed that, since “I” had been happy with her doing everything she had so far, there simply were no limits anymore.

As if reading my thoughts, I saw the madari quietly slip out of the tamboo, along with one of the sipahi who’d already had his turn. Of course—the madari would want his chance at my wife, too. How many more? How many had taken her? Six?

They lifted her, still in a stupor, by her shoulders and ankles, her wrists still bound behind her. One sipahi lay down on his back on the floor, and they stood her up astride him, facing his feet. Then they pushed gently down on her shoulders, so that she was forced to squat.

She opened her eyes and blinked. “Wh—What are you doing?” she asked. But they merely grinned at her and kept pushing. She squatted lower, lower, her thighs parallel to the floor, now.

Then she felt the kiss of the hard cock against her oiled nether hole, and her eyes went wide. “N—No!” she panted, “I will not!”

They laughed, and pushed her thighs apart. She sank lower and lower, the head of him between her cheeks and pushing for entry, her own body weight forcing her down on him. “No!” Her face was flushed, her arousal obvious, but she protested still. “No! Please!”

Nandini was a regular at the gym, and her toned thighs were the envy of many of her friends. But she was already tired, and with her wrists bound behind her, she was off balance. Though she strained upward, she could not help but sink lower and lower into the squat and, as she descended, the cock beneath her began to penetrate. And as it spread her, pushing up inside her, the flutters of pleasure made it even harder for her to stay upright. “Ah!” she gasped. “Ahhh!”

She twisted and writhed, making a good show of reluctance, but as she finally sank down onto the hard length we all saw the ripple of pleasure shudder down her body. Her daaku jooti scbangd along the canvas floor as she adjusted her position, she sank lower…lower and, at last, she was sitting astride him, impaled on his cock. She was wide-eyed and gasping at the feeling of having him buried so deep inside her.

But that was only the start of what they had planned for her. The man underneath her tossed a copper coin on the floor, but it was immediately joined by a second, this one from a sipahi stepping between her thighs. I recognized him as the one who’d been wearing the madari outfit until now. Nandini looked at him in disbelief. “I—God, I can’t! Not both of you together!”

But the man merely smiled and probed her wet folds with the tip of his cock, rubbing up and down against them until she moaned. Then he pushed slowly inside her, sliding all the way in on his first thrust. I could tell by the noise my wife made that it was different—tighter, I guessed, because of the cock that was already in her.

A third man threw down a coin. He had the glass bottle of oil and he emptied the remains of it over Nandini’s breasts. She was almost lying on her back, now, legs spread, her upper body resting on the chest of the sipahi beneath her. She stared up at the newcomer, not understanding. Until he swung his leg over her, squatting astride her, and squeezed her oiled breasts together.

She drew in her breath, eying his angry, swollen cock. “God, no,” she said, her voice aflame with lust. “Not that.”

“I’ve been waiting to get between these tits ever since I saw you,” he told her. “I didn’t know, then, that I’d only have to pay a coin to have the chance.” And he plunged his cock between the warm softness of her breasts, sliding up the oiled valley. She writhed in pretend disgust at being used that way, but I saw her grind her thighs together in lust, making the man between them gasp.

They started to fuck her. The man beneath her had his hands on her waist, lifting and almost dropping her onto his cock, her bound wrists trapped between them. The man between her legs was kneeling, fucking her pussy with quick, hard strokes while his thumb circled her clit. The third one was holding her breasts to form a tight tunnel he could stroke his cock between, the head emerging on each pass to point at her gasping face. His thumbs were rubbing back and forth on her nipples, slow and insistamboo.

My wife groaned and shook between them, her mouth open and panting. “I—Stop this,” she begged. “I—I’m a noble woman—”

“Randi,” said one man.

“Chinal,” said another.

Nandini tossed her head, eyes tight shut and long hair flying. “No…no….”

“Hope we knock her up.”

“Give her a little bastard to remember us by.”

My wife groaned and trembled. “No…Yes….”

The men started to speed up. And then, just as I thought it couldn’t get any worse, a fourth stepped up to her head. He mockingly tossed a copper coin on the floor, then pushed his cock between her lips. Another man, too impatient to wait, flung a coin down and pushed his friend out of the way, drawing her head to him, instead. They began to fight over her, pulling her mouth from one shining cock to the other, sometimes cramming both of them between her lips at the same time. Her pretend protests died out completely, the only sounds she made now muffled groans of pleasure.

I sat there with a cold chill creeping higher and higher in my chest. It was obscene—they were using her as a sex doll, a series of holes for their enjoyment and nothing more. Yet ironically, by treating her so roughly, they were giving her exactly what she wanted. My wife was having the time of her life, close to yet another orgasm and—

Something shifted and changed inside me. And it had only happened because of what the raja had done. If I’d had my way, she’d never have done the spanking scene, or the procession, and we’d never have gone to the party. Maybe we’d have experimented a little more, bit by bit, but we’d never have done something like this. By deceiving her, the raja had also freed her. He’d given her a better experience than I ever could.

And right then, I understood what he meant when he’d called me a cuckold. It wasn’t just that another man was taking my wife. It was that another man understood her needs better than I did. He’d understood that she needed…this.

I watched the man underneath her clutch the firm globes of her ass as his cock pumped into her. I watched the man between her thighs tell her what a good Randi she was as his groin slapped hers. I watched the man using her breasts pinch her nipples and pump his cock faster and faster between the firm flesh I’d always been so gentle and revenait with. And I watched the two men fighting over her mouth run their spit-slick cocks over her lips and cheeks and then plunge them between her soft lips as she gasped and panted. I watched her body thrash and buck between them, a rag doll almost hidden by the press of muscled male bodies, some of them still half-dressed in their armor.

“I—I—” She managed to get out as her mouth was freed for a second.

The sipahi all smiled, expecting her to launch into another I am a noble woman!

“I—I—I’m going to come!” yelled my wife.

My heart seemed to break and swell at the same time. I didn’t know what the hell I thought, anymore. I wanted to kill them all, and I wanted to see her happy. It was awful and it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

The men didn’t slow down. The one beneath her tugged her ass up and down on him. The one between her thighs grunted as he rammed himself hard into her. The one fucking her breasts squeezed them tighter around his cock and stared at the base of her throat, as if already imagining what was going to happen. The ones using her mouth both pushed their cocks in at the same time, stretching her lips obscenely.

My wife came with a long moan of release. The ones in her mouth pulled back so that the whole room could hear her shout echo around the tamboo. I could see her elegant neck strain, her heels kick at the floor and, beneath her, her bound wrists pull at the leather thong as she thrashed. Even before she’d finished, the man beneath her gave a groan and shot his seed into her depths. The one kneeling between her thighs lasted a few more thrusts before he buried himself to the balls and shot. “There,” he hissed, his eyes closed. “I hope you get pregnant.” Oh God, he’s coming. He’s coming inside my wife. My cock ached and strained.

The one stroking himself between her breasts pushed forward one last time and then he, too, exploded, sending long ropes of sticky cum across her chin and chest. The two in her mouth stroked themselves frantically, brushing their cocks against her hot, panting mouth, and then they too were shooting across her face and into her open mouth. She gasped and spluttered, swallowing some of their seed, while the rest sprayed across her cheeks and lips, lying there in hot, gleaming strings. God! My wife! How dare they, how dare they—

I groaned as I felt it start, a hot rush in my groin. My eyes widened in disbelief—I can’t, I haven’t even been stroking myself—and then I was shooting, the hot cum spraying over the front of my monk’s robe, somehow both the best and worst orgasm of my life.

I saw Nandini’s eyes close as she rode the waves of bliss. And then hands were untying the ropes that held me to the bench and I was being dragged backwards through a tamboo flap—

Outside, in the chill night air, they stripped me of my robe, cut the ropes and shoved the madari outfit back onto me. I didn’t protest. I was too shocked, both at what had happened and at my own reaction. They pushed me back through the flap and into the rear of the tamboo. Nandini was still lying there, eyes closed.

I watched as each man withdrew from her in turn, more and more of her pale body revealed to me with each one. They’d all had their way with her, I realized and, now that they were no longer playing their roles, their hands were gentle, their voices quiet.

My wife was laid gently on the floor, eyes still closed. Her dress was in a tight band around her waist, her only clothing aside from her jooti. She looked…ravaged, just as her fantasy had demanded. Their seed gleamed on her thighs, breasts and neck, glistening ropes of it criss-crossed her face. and jewels of it shone in her hair. Worse, I knew it was inside her, inside that hot, tight, forbidden hole…and worse of all, I could see it oozing slowly from between the lips of her sex, a creamy white trickle with massive implications. How many men had taken her there? Six? God, six men, all while she was at her most fertile time!

I stepped forward and she opened her eyes and looked up at me. And smiled. “Thank you,” she told me.

And that’s when I knew I could never tell her about what had really happened. She thought that everything was alright between us, that I’d given my permission at every stage. If I told her I hadn’t, all the guilt that had been lifted from her would come slamming back down. And that might cause a rift between us that could never be repaired.

There was another side to it, too. I hadn’t given my permission…but I knew it would have been much, much better if I had. I’d discovered something about my wife, something I could never have guessed. If this hadn’t happened, if we’d gone home from the nauchandi in our old routine…how much longer would it have taken before my wife had strayed, seeking what I couldn’t give her?

I had to lie to her. And I had to tell her the truth about my own needs—needs I was only just coming to understand myself.

I raised my mask, leaned down and kissed her. “It’s okay,” I told her. “It’s all going to be okay.”

[Givemeextra]

Epilogue



“Why didn’t you stop me?” asked Nandini.

We were looking at the pregnancy test and its accusatory blue bar. We’d done three, just to make sure. They were all the same.

I didn’t even entertain the notion of telling her the truth. We had a decision to make, and I didn’t want it to be tainted by guilt.

“The same reason you didn’t stop yourself,” I told her. “I…got carried away, I guess.” And I hugged her.


We decided, after much debate, that Nandini would keep the baby.

There was a lot to talk about. Even outside of the birth, our lives were changed forever. Nandini admitted to what I already knew: that she’d always harbored secret submissive fantasies, feeding them with bodice rippers that had never quite sated her desire. She needed to feel helpless in order to let go and unleash her inner Chinal.

I, meanwhile, had realized I’d been denying parts of my own desires. That moment when I’d come had woken me up to what was really going on in my head. I’d known that I loved to watch other men stare at my wife, that I loved to show her off and tease them. What I’d never admitted, even to myself, was that I wanted them to go further. Kissing. Groping. Sex. And, even from those very first fantasies, the night of our wedding anniversary, there was something about the other men. They had something I didn’t: a confidence, a swagger. Muscles, and a cock bigger than mine. It had taken the raja and his cruel trick to show me what I was: a cuckold.

Even when I knew, it took me a while to accept it. We went through an awkward stage where I tried, desperate to convince myself that I could satisfy her needs myself now that I understood them. I pinned her wrists to the bed and ripped her panties off, but…it didn’t feel right, for either of us. The problem wasn’t my lack of muscular stnaigth. It was my will. I didn’t want to treat her that way, even though she wanted it, even though a part of me wanted to see her treated that way. I wanted to watch…and I was surprised to find that I actually got harder when I thought about being made to watch.

At first, both of us were ashamed of our fantasies. But what had happened at the Mughal-e-azam nauchandi put things into a new sort of perspective. What we’d done and the way that we’d done it—especially the parts Nandini didn’t know about—had been clumsy and haphazard and dangerous. And we’d been left with a very permanent reminder, one that we couldn’t—and didn’t want to—undo. But at the same time, it hit us that we wenai’t bad people. We wenai’t terrorists or drug dealers. Ironically, the only bad bits of the experience—even the unplanned pregnancy, which we saw as a bad and a good thing—could have been avoided if we’d been honest with each other. It was our fear and our shame that caused problems, not living out our fantasies. We could do it again, we realized, and it wouldn’t hurt anyone, as long as we did it carefully.

And so I accepted what I was, and I accepted that I’d do whatever it took to keep Nandini happy. And she agreed that she could separate sex and love, and that we could play these games without it coming between us, as long as everything was open and honest.

We did some reading. We learned about safe, sane and consensual, and about consent play and red, amber and green safe words and much, much more. We joined the local groups for Mughal-e-azam nauchandis…and quickly discovered that the sorts of things that we’d experienced were not normal practice. But we found websites for people who liked to cuckold and be cuckolded, more for fetish groups into consent play, and more for those who liked to dress up. And just like us, there were people who mixed together all three.

The simple answer, of course, would have been to track down the king, the lohar and the others. But I knew I wouldn’t trust them not to abuse our trust and, though Nandini complained and didn’t understand why, I insisted we found new playmates. By the time we worked up the courage to start emailing contacts, Nandini was heavily pregnant and we couldn’t do much more than chat online and plan future meetings—but we had a lot of fun just doing that.

The baby was born and he looked enough like the two of us that he didn’t raise any questions. Sometimes I’d look at him and think he looked a little like the king, or like one of the sipahi, but ultimately it didn’t matter. He was ours, and we loved him.

Six months after the birth, when Nandini had recovered and we were ready to play for the first time, we sat in the den looking at the website for a different Mughal-e-azam nauchandi. This one didn’t have adult role play sessions, and we knew nothing sexual would happen at it. But a friend we’d made online was going to be there, and we were talking seriously about meeting up there, in costume…and maybe going back to his hotel room together. My wife in a zabardast vaishya’s costume, me—perhaps tied to a chair—and a strong, brutish man who’d take the helpless vaishya as he pleased, while telling me how tight and wet she was.

What could be better?

[Givemeextra]

NANDINI - May be???

[guessmecon]

hot - done

[abhilove]

That was by far one of the best that I have ever read mate. Kudos!!! And I hope we get to read more from you ....much more :)

[RonitVyas]

Honestly best Gangbang read in recent years!! Too good. I too am lokking for this Nandini ;-)

But getting pregnant and having bull's baby is pathetic.

[Kalyan143]

great story super great

[B1ryani]

This story was amazing