Misc. Erotica Swati's Downfall (Original Story)

[desiass]

Good update....waiting for next set of updates

[LustyLeo]

When you are in deep shit, its good to keep the mouth, ass and pussy shut. But swati opened everything and now facing the results.

[Askk2me]

Update Plz.

[desiass]

what happened Sir, why there are no frequent updates?? I hope you will provide readers a big update soon.

[S Darko]

So sorry everyone. I got super busy with work but will update in the next day or so.

Thanks for your patience and continued support.

[S Darko]

Inder is transfixed as he watches Swati being gagged, then blindfolded. 


The images are vivid on his monitor which he has recently wiped down with a special solution for cleaning screens and his efforts have been rewarded handsomely. 

To his right, the recorder button is pulsing red, and by the end of the evening, he will have another great video that he will later edit and…he hasn’t thought further, but selling it to one of the porn websites isn’t out of the question. He thinks Swati’s face should probably be camouflaged, but the blidfold is a good idea—he won’t have to use a digital blur which he always finds off-putting. 

Prakash is hefting the thin cable in his hand, and slapping it down. The audio is so good, he can hear the whistling sound it makes as he swipes it in the air. With a lot of force, he notices. 

Prakash positions himself athwart Swati’s ass, his legs slightly apart, a good, strong base from which he can deliver strong blows. Incongruously, he wears no pants or underwear, and his cock—he notices, it is a pretty large one, is sticking straight out. 

As Prakash raises his hand to strike, Ramesh steps in and stops his hand. They speak in low voices, as though they don’t want Swati to hear, and the result is that he, Inder cannot hear either. They seem to reach some kind of understanding and Prakash takes up his stance again. 

Swati whimpers on the ground, her eyes blindfolded, her knowledge of the world reduced by that one hugely important sense. Inder can imagine how she must be feeling, the terror. He shakes his head. Why is he having feelings of empathy for the whore? 

Prakash abruptly brings the cable down on her ass, once, twice, thrice, and immediately there are red welts across both of her cheeks. For a second there is no sound, then a muffled wail from Swati. Her whole body is shuddering and heaving, and wait, what is this? She is actually coming! Orgasming! Just like the whore he knew she was. 

Inder is fascinated. 

There is clear liquid running down her thighs in little rivulets.

Prakash makes a noise between a laugh and a snort and tosses the cable aside. Inder can see it is the heavy kind, the industrial kind, not the type of light cable that is used in houses, but the armored kind that is used in commercial buildings. That would hurt, he can imagine it quite well. 

And now, he stands with his legs on either side of her ass, ready to proceed to the next phase of the fun and games. He starts to crouch when Ramesh taps him on the shoulder. He produces a bottle of something clear, a gel-like liquid, that he squirts into Prakash’s hands, even though the latter seems to think that spitting on his hand is good enough. Ramesh makes a few gestures, making it clear to Prakash that he expects the lube to be used. 

Inder muses on this relationship between Ramesh and Swati and Prakash for one more time. What a strange guy this Ramesh is. No touching, but he takes instructions on what and how to do it. On the one hand he comes across like a virgin, and on the other like a seasoned S&M expert. 

He does pretty much what Inder tells him—the use of lube was one of the things. Ramesh had told him that there is a literal treasure trove of sex toys in the the whore’s office, and Inder has instructed both Prakash and Ramesh to use them on her. Although, he thinks, this Prakash fellow is a little bit of a loose cannon. 

Of course the spit that Prakash is proposing is good enough for the whore, Inder thinks. Bitch like that probably could take it with no lube at all. Her asshole was probably large enough to drive a truck through, he chuckles to himself. 

But, again, Prakash makes him uneasy even though he has him under his thumb, in his grasp. He has him by the metaphorical short and curlies. By his balls in fact. 

Prakash kneels to one side, his head very close to her ass, and uses one finger to cautiously explore her asshole and Inder can see her expression despite the gag and blindfold. Thank goodness for high definition cameras, he thinks. He can zoom in if he wishes, giving him the power and flexibility of a movie cinematographer. 

He can also record simultaneous streams if he so wishes. Inder has put a lot of thought into the A/V system in the conference room, although not for this purpose. It has worked out well for him though. Repurposing and adapting the technology. 

Swati winces and tries to shrink away as Prakash’s finger touches her asshole. But then his finger pushes in with surprisingly little resistance through the ring and he sees Swati visibly relax. 

The lube is working! One second there is the pucker, the starfish, tight as a buttonhole, and the next there’s relaxation, a give, and the finger is through. He was right about her. She is a huge fucking whore! No question about it. 

She is however, whimpering. Soft mewling sounds that he isn’t sure are those of pain. Is she enjoying it? Huh! Surely she isn’t? But then she moans around the gag and then he knows she is enjoying it. 

Prakash is moving two and now three fingers in and out of her asshole which is starting to dilate. When he pulls out, the ring doesn’t relax, the starfish doesn't reappear. 

There is, instead, a deep and mysterious hole that is enlarging with each additional finger that Prakash inserts. The man makes a point of all his fingers, like he is holding something small with all his digits, perhaps making an offering to a beggar and pushes part of the pyramid thus created into her asshole and now he sees her ass moving back to meet his hand. 

It seems to Inder that while Prakash is pushing in, Swati is pushing back to gobble even more of his hand into her nether hole. He wonders if she knows it is his hand, and not his cock, blindfolded as she is. Surely, she expects his cock in her ass before too long. 

After a while, Prakash tires of the fingering of Swati’s asshole, and gets up, his legs straddling her torso. He puts both hands on her buttocks and spreads them, the asshole, the dark redness inside now clearly visible, and the pussy, glistening and wet and slightly puffy, the slit marginally gaped. 

He turns back and momentarily glances at one of the cameras, an actor breaking the fourth wall, and then settles back into his role.

For a second, the bulbous purple head of his cock is poised at the entrance to her most secret cave and then with a slight push of his hips and a grunt, the cockhead in inside and then the stem of his manhood follows. 

“Take that, you whore,” Prakash says as he pushes. 

Swati’s upper body is crushed under his weight, her breasts flatten and bulge obscenely under her. Inder can see that already they are red and raw where the carpet has scbangd her skin. He can see one nipple, long and hard and part of the aureole. 

She grunts as Prakash starts to hammer his cock into her like he is a giant hammer, and his cock a nail he must push all the way through her. 

Every stroke his prick emerges wetter and darker and Inder can hardly believe it, larger. It looks like an angry log, veins and all. 

Inder ponders for a moment what this means. Is he a bisexual? Is he a homo? He has never had sex in his life and isn’t even sure of his orientation. But it is true that both the whore and Prakash’s cock turn him on. He unbuttons his pants and slips his hand under the waistband of his underwear.

With every push, Prakash calls her a whore in different but repetitive Hindi and some other language words that Inder cannot understand. There words are interspersed with grunts and, “take that,” and “fuck, fuck, fuck,” and other wordless sounds. 

Prakash seems to be slowing down his pneumatic hammer-like movements. His face is fixed in a savage grin, grunting with every stroke. 

Swati is also grunting with every punch-like percussion of Prakash’s waist, the sounds starting pig-like and then devolving into mewls. 

She is clearly enjoying this, Inder thinks.

Inder looks over, away from the main action to see what Ramesh is doing, but the man has disappeared. He pans the camera and looks around the large room, but there is no Ramesh. 

That odd, he thinks, Ramesh is like a lap dog, a protector of sorts for the whore, and yet he seems to have deserted her. Then he notices a shadow on the glass wall and Ramesh reappears. His pockets bulge with heavy things that he seems to have retrieved from somewhere. 

Inder wonders what goodies he has brought. 

But back to the main action in center of the room. Prakash does something different. He fucks in his cock all the way until he is lying almost on top of Swati with a loud “Son of a whore!”

She grunts as loud as she can despite the gag. The carpet around her gagged mouth is darker that the rest; the yellow ball is partially visible and in stark contrast with the dark carpet. She has drooled uncontrollably since she first took her position there. 

Then Prakash wraps his hands around the woman’s waist and pulls her to him with a loud groan. 

For a moment nothing happens as Swati’s breath whooshes out. 

Then Prakash is rising to his feet, roaring and screaming, as though he is putting in a supreme effort, a powerlifter pulling three, four times his bodyweight. He rises slowly, carrying Swati in front of him, his hands under her legs, his cock still plugging her ass firmly. 

He moves with unsteady steps toward the large conference table and plops her down on it. His hands hook under her knees and he pulls them up and out, giving Inder a magnificent frontal view of her slightly gaping cunt and her completely plugged asshole. 

Her mouth is open as wide as it can go, almost wider than the ball gag in her mouth and there is drool over her chin. Eyes blindfolded, mouth gaped and gagged, all holes on full display, she looks like a wet dream, and Inder is overcome.

Swati is making a high keening sound as Prakash fucks her nether hole ruthlessly, relentlessly and furiously. His face is a rictus of an unknowable expression. 

Ecstasy or pain, Inder cannot tell, but his entire concentration is on Swati. 

The whorishness of the scene! What kind of woman would allow herself to be treated like this, let alone participate enthusiastically? 

Her holes, both plugged and unplugged consume his consciousness. 

He drops his pants and pulls frantically at his own cock and within seconds he spurts into a wad of tissue that he has kept for this very purpose. 

He is temporarily sated, but there is more action going on. 

[xbiilove]

Awesome update. Let inder telecast this to swati husband.

[xavierrxx]

Very hot. She is master till end of office hours and become slave after that for her employees.

[sexycharan]

Nice, please continue

[desiass]

nice writing, please add more humiliation and update

[Gajakidost]

Superb. Cant wait to see who are the others going to touch her.

[S Darko]

Swati feels weightless as Prakash lifts her, almost it seems without effort. 

She can feel his bone-hard cock in her ass and that it is, in fact, one of the points she is held up by other that his hands. 

He sets her down on the conference table. She can tell by the cold hard surface she can feel under her fleshy ass. 

She still cannot see anything, and all her sounds and words are distorted by the ball gag in her mouth. In her mind’s eye, she can see her saliva dripping all over the gag, her mouth, her chin and even her upper chest, all wet and slimy. 


He is pushing in and pulling out with the regularity of a metronome, and the feelings the movement is causing are electric, her nerves buzzing, the tingling in her pussy building, intensifying to a tremendous crescendo.

She hears a squeak, then wet, mewling sounds and realizes they are coming from her. 

Incredibly, she is getting off on this treatment. 

She, a successful, corporate woman, a career woman, educated, smart, intelligent, and she’s no more than a whore for this crass, uneducated lout. 

And the thing is, she can’t get enough of this!

His cock hasn’t left her asshole even for a second from the moment it went in. Initially, it hurt; hurt like hell in fact, despite the lube—she knows what lube this is—it came free with her pink dildo, a water-based gel-like lubricant that she used only once, but is seems to work. It was cold, ice-cold as it went in, and she could feel Prakash’s fingers as they slowly went in and out, dilating her orifice, her ass, for the reaming he has planned for her. 

The savage way he later inserts his cock tells her he has been planning this for a while. Perhaps he has dreamed of this. 

Perhaps the lower class people use ass-fucking as a family planning device. Who the fuck knows?

The first few strokes, were brutal, she felt a tearing pain, and she worried if he was causing some kind of permanent damage. The pain was almost as bad as the childbirth pain she had when Dhruv was born. 

Then, quickly, very quickly, it started feeling neutral as she relaxed with the smoothness of the motion. 

It was nothing much at all, just a stretching of the tissues, like taking a large dump. 

And then, to her great surprise, she started liking it. It wasn’t like vaginal fucking, it was very different. The sensations were felt in a different place for one thing, but also deep, in her belly and…she finds it hard to think as her body launches into what she thinks is an orgasm, but not something like she has ever experienced before. 

It’s in the wrong place, but it ripples out of her ass, and consumes her pelvis and travels all the way into her stomach.

Her nipples feel tight, rigid and sensitive as all hell as Prakash drives into her ass like a maniac. She shudders and shivers as the orgasm washes over her. 

Not orgasm, she corrects herself, it’s an assgasm! Her first. 

It feels great! No, it feels more than great. It feels divine. The roughness of his fucking pushes her over the edge again, and before she can catch her breath, he lifts her up like she weighs nothing, is nothing and puts her on the table. 

He pistons in powerfully several times and then pulls out altogether. A loud fart escapes her, a real fart this time unlike the vaginal queef last time. 

She knows she is screaming at the top of her lungs but the ball gag effectively muffles the sound to a low wail. She feels empty, desolate. She is aware he hasn’t come and hopes this is not all, there is more.

And there is more.

Prakash pushes her forward and scoots up on the table, still straddling her body, and raises her into his lap. She sinks down, and his erect cock finds her asshole and sinks in with no trouble at all, and she sighs in contentment. To think she had resisted giving up her ass cherry! 

This is fantastic. 

She mewls and grunts as he fucks up into her ass. He hooks her legs under her knees and she feels herself spread apart as though for inspection. She feels like she is being displayed, perhaps in some medieval bazaar for purchase as a sex slave. 

Here sir, see all her holes, she can imagine the salesman saying. All fresh and very elastic. Here, see how she takes cock in her ass? And look here at the cunt—all cleanly shaven except for the tasteful arrow down the front. You won’t be disappointed sir, only 40,000 dirhams, sir. 

She wonders for a second where the number of 40,000 dirhams has come from, but she is distracted as Prakash pulls her knees up until they are almost level with her head. 

And still he fucks on, determinedly, like an automaton. 
His hands slide through and suddenly it is his elbows under her knees, not his hands, and his hands are on her tits, squeezing, molding, and pulling at the nipples. The pain is unbearable, and yet the pleasure is unbearable too. 

She cries out, and her whole body shudders in orgasm again and again and again. Her pussy squirts, almost in sympathy with the ravaging its neighboring hole is getting.

Prakash’s breathing is ragged, and he is out of breath. 

So is she. 

Did he come? 

Swati has no idea. She has been entirely focused on her own self. 

Deprived of sight, she has focused on sensations alone.  And they have mostly been in the lower half of her body, her pelvis to be exact. It seems to her that despite the fact that Prakash has barely touched her pussy, she has been lubricating furiously, and she can feel her cunt justices running back down her fleshy thighs and mingling with the lube around her ass. 

It has all probably been churned to a foam by now, she thinks.

For a moment, she reflects on her position. She is bent almost in half by the way he has positioned her, her tits are probably bulging out obscenely from between her thighs, and her ass and pussy are open like the India Gate. 

Here sire, this way sir, it's open season! Enter at will! 

They rest a moment like that, Prakash still deep in her ass, his hands now cupping her tits rather than squeezing the life out of them, and they both breathe in lungfuls of air as they try to catch their breaths. 

The orgasm is fading, but the tingle in her nether region remains, just below the surface, like a welcome and friendly monster barely concealed by the water, ready to rise and crest again with the most minimal provocation. 

She can feel her pussy twitch in response. He nipples tingle, her whole body is alive and yearning for more. 

She senses movement behind her, Prakash stirring, his breath now steadier and his hands off her boobs. She savors the brief respite because she knows it will be brief. 

His cock, his ramrod staff is still rampant in her ass, and he hasn’t come. 

She doesn’t know that for sure because she might have missed it, but she doesn’t think he would still be that hard after coming. And so, there will be more. 

Prakash is pulling at her pussy lips, pulling them out and apart, and she can only imagine what it looks like to the cameras. Ass plugged by a dark brown cock, and pussy gaping, pulled apart by the lips, the deepest, inner ridged walls of her vagina visible for all to see. 

Then she is surprised as there is something cold and hard at the other hole, pushing, pushing, pushing, parting the lips and entering inside. 

Her cunt is tight because of his cock in her ass. 

There is, after all, only so much space there, and the tissue must dilate slowly to allow intruders like the ones Prakash is introducing there. 

For a wild moment she thinks it is Ramesh, finally putting his cock in her, finally fucking her, but it is too cold, too hard to be a human cock.


She realizes that Ramesh has raided her file cabinet, and this is one of her dildos, probably the pink one that Ramesh was so fascinated with. 

[Ananthukutty]

Awesome update

[S Darko]

Inder watches Prakash pull the whore’s pussy lips apart. 

They’re so slippery that they slip from his pinch grip of index and forefinger, and he uses one more finger, a thicker grip, and pulls the lips apart. The image in front of him is so obscene, the dark cock in the whore’s ass, the pussy wide open, no, stretched open. Her clit is a throbbing nub of pink flesh at the summit of her cunt lips. 

All of it is wet, drooling cunt juice, her female cum. He feels himself harden again, something that happens only rarely. 


And what is this? 

Ramesh has stepped forward, out of the shadows, and is pulling a large pink something from his pocket. He realizes it is the same dildo that Swati had demoed for Ramesh not so long ago. 

Inder is transfixed. He has no idea what is going to happen next. He has a very good idea what is going to happen next. His thoughts are all over the place, his cock is rampaging, and he doesn’t know what to do. 

Ramesh places the pink dildo at the entrance of her cunt and after a couple of sharp pushes, the bulbous end is swallowed up by the whore’s pussy. And then he starts dabbing at the phone in his other hand.

A double penetration! True it is a cock and a dildo, not two cocks, but a DP nevertheless. 

Something magical happens then, something cataclysmic, something that Inder in all his days of watching hardcore porn has never seen. The images are seared into his retina for as long as he will live.

Prakash is sitting on the conference room table, legs splayed out, with Swati between his legs, facing away from him. She is gagged and blindfolded. Drool leaks thickly from her widely stretched mouth onto her chest and tits. Her body is bent double, her thighs against the outer parts of her chest, the tits obscenely compressed between them. Her knees are bent with Prakash’s hands under them. The effect is that of exposing her nether regions to best advantage. 

And those are spectacular. Her ass is only seen as a tight purple ring, stretched out by Prakash’s large, dark member. In front of that and slightly above is her cunt, her pussy, with the pink stem of the dildo sticking out. And what’s that below her left ass cheek? Inder realizes he has failed to account for her arms which are bound behind her and what he can see are her fingers fluttering under her body, contrasting with Prakash’s dark thigh. 

And everything is shaking. 

Shaking, that is, differently. The dildo is shaking because it is vibrating—Ramesh had turned on the vibrator function, and he can see the thin stem blurred from the movement. 

Swati’s tits are shaking, moving ponderously in twin rolling waves as the pleasure takes her. Prakash is moving in and out of her ass, and Swati’s midsection is, well, there’s no word for it other than spasming. Her whole torso, in fact, is shaking, twisting, juddering. 

This is clearly the dual effect of the ass fucking and the vibrating dildo at her core, and the poor whore is simply out of her mind with the ecstasy of pleasure that the two combined are sending into her body. 

Inder tries to imagine the pleasure the whore is getting out of all this. It seems the harder Prakash pushes her, the more enjoyment she seems to be getting out of this. In fact, he sees her mouth open wider even than the ball gag as she screams in ecstasy. 

Prakash gives a few fitful and hard thrusts, his rhythm off, and then holds himself rigid inside Swati’s ass, and then he begins to shake like some powerful machinery switched on. Inder realized that Prakash is dumping his load into her ass. 

Simultaneously, Ramesh turns up the intensity of the vibrations in Swati’s cunt and she practically leaps off the conference table where her ass partially rests. Both are rigid and quaking simultaneously with their respective orgasms and all Inder can do is watch.

When they disengage, Prakash removes the gag, the blindfold, the zip tie, and the dildo and lays the whore down on the table. The slut is shamelessly lying there with not a stitch of clothing on her, her legs splayed as though she has no control over her body anymore. 

And no wonder, thinks Inder—she has been coming for over ten, maybe fifteen minutes, nonstop like an express train. That kind of thing would take the stuffing out of anyone. 

He zooms in close and sees Prakash’s cum leaking out of her asshole onto the conference table’s burnished mahogany, and wonders if it will leave a stain. 

Her cunt looks raw and bruised, a red gash between her legs, and the darker, inner lips flop down like the petals of some carnivorous flower. He can see faint tremors of her cunt lips and pelvis even though it has been a while that her holes were totally plugged.

Swati’s face is a mess. Her mascara has run everywhere and any lipstick she had on was gone, everything is smeared and covered in saliva. Her eyes are closed, her mouth is slack and drool runs out of one corner of her mouth. A faint, but satisfied moan emanates from her mouth over and over.

Then Prakash rises and pulls over the large decorative dish—a ten or twelve inch diameter ceramic creation designed as a centerpiece, and filled with Hershey’s kisses—toward him and peels open one of the chocolates. He is still breathing a little heavily as he pops one of them into his mouth. 

“What a lifestyle these fuckers have,” he observes idly. “Chocolate at meetings. They must be drinking daaru as well, no?”

Ramesh grunts, and joins him at the table and picks up a piece of chocolate of his own. 

“Chicken drumsticks too, from KFC no doubt,” Prakash continues in his fantastic imagination of what corporate board meetings must be like. “And naked women, like our randi here.” He chuckles, both amused and angry at the injustices a poor man like him has to suffer. No board meetings with naked women and booze and chicken and chocolates for him.

Neither of them pay any attention to Swati, lying naked and spreadeagled on the table just a few feet away. She is still breathing heavily but otherwise seems a little out of it, perhaps still blissed out by her monumental orgasms. 

Prakash picks up another chocolate and unwraps it, and then sits looking at it for a bit. Something seems to spark in his mind and he gets up. 

“Watch this,” he says to Ramesh.

He spreads the whore’s legs and bends her knees and pulls her to him, so her cunt is only a foot or so away from his face. He sniffs at her cunt delicately. He doesnt seem to mind the smell. 

“Don’t move,” he says to Swati, “don’t fucking move.”

Then he stuffs the Hershey’s kiss into her cunt in one smooth motion. It doesn’t look like she even feels it, for all the reaction she gives—just a tiny wiggle of her pelvis. Prakash seems disappointed, and he sits back as though not sure what to do next.

He reaches for the bowl and adds another chocolate, then one more to her cunt. 

He keeps repeating this until her cunt seems stuffed with brown chocolate, most of it melting from her heat and her juices and running down the back of her things and onto the table.

“Look what you did,” Prakash growls. “You’re going to have to clean all this off with your tongue.” He seems delighted with the idea.

Inder can watch no more. 

He hikes up his pants and hurries out, thinking, chocolate, chocolate.

[Dumeelkumar]

Excelent update

[Sanjjay Rangasamy]

Very hot update

[Askk2me]

One of the best threads that is ongoing now.

[Arul Pragasam]

very good

[drillhot]

Awesome

[B1ryani]

What a story. One of the best in this site