Adultery The Unwilling cuckold : How My Roommate Stole My Shy Wife

[Betacucky]

Chapter 3


As Anand walked away, I trailed behind him hesitantly, my legs heavy, my vision blurred with tears. At the doorway, Manavi stood quietly, her expression calm, almost indifferent. My mind screamed at me to act, to pull Ananya away, but my body refused, weighted by fear and humiliation.
Without hesitation, Anand reached for Ananya’s hand. Her face was frozen in fear, her lips parted as if to speak but no words came. She let him pull her along like a puppet, her silence louder than any scream.

Anand turned and gave me a cold, piercing stare before disappearing into his bedroom with her. Ananya looked back at me, her eyes locked onto mine, desperate and pleading, and it hit me like a blow to the chest. I should have done something, should have said something, but what could I even do? Every time I tried to imagine stepping in, Anand’s cold, mocking stare froze me in place. Would he hurt her if I resisted? Or would he just laugh as he brushed me aside like I was nothing? Maybe I was nothing—not to him, not at this moment. The thought churned in my gut like poison, leaving me to stand there, useless and ashamed, while Ananya silently begged for a hero I couldn’t be..

Manavi followed closely, her steps slow and deliberate, as though savoring the weight of what was happening. She paused briefly and walked towards me, leaning in close enough for her perfume to linger in the air between us. "You don’t want to miss this," she whispered, her voice soft but dripping with mockery, before continuing into the bedroom.


I hurriedly pulled my boxers back on, though it felt pointless. My legs moved on their own as I ended up just outside Anand’s bedroom door, unable to stay away. Anand stood at the entrance, his stance commanding, like a gatekeeper to what came next. Inside, Ananya sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped, her whole body radiating helplessness. Manavi lingered nearby, leaning casually against the wall, her presence a quiet but pointed reminder of how twisted this situation had become.

As I stood frozen outside the door, my mind raced with questions I couldn’t answer. What had Manavi said to Ananya during all this? Had she tried to comfort her, or was she just as consumed by Anand’s dominance as the rest of us? The possibilities clawed at me, each one worse than the last, and the thought of Manavi leading Ananya deeper into this nightmare left a bitter taste in my mouth. Fear, confusion, and now betrayal churned in my gut, tying me up in knots.

The tension in the room was suffocating, the air so heavy it felt like it could crush me. Every unspoken fear hung there, filling the silence with an unbearable weight. I stood frozen, unable to move, trapped by my own emotions. My chest tightened as I watched the door slowly swing shut, shutting us in—sealing me inside this nightmare with no way to escape.


His smirk oozed confidence, like he already knew how this twisted play would unfold. 'So, you’ve only ever been with your loser husband?' he sneered at Ananya, his words sharp and mocking. My stomach twisted as his words cut deeper than I expected, but even the thought of fighting back felt pathetic—he was right, and I hated him for it."You saw how I made him squeal like a little bitch. What do you think of that?"
The words stung like a whip. My chest tightened as shame coursed through me, mingling with a simmering anger I couldn’t seem to act on. I wanted to fight back, to tell him to shut his filthy mouth, but what would that achieve? He had already stripped me of every shred of dignity, and deep down, I hated myself for letting him. But was it better to stay silent, to avoid making things worse for Ananya? Or was I just using that as an excuse to mask my own cowardice? The question lingered, heavier than the humiliation that already consumed me.

Ananya didn’t respond. She sat frozen on the bed, her eyes locked on the floor, as if looking anywhere else would make the reality even worse. Her silence hung in the air, heavy and screaming louder than any words could.

Today, you’ll finally learn what it means to be truly satisfied," Anand said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
Without warning, he grabbed my arm and yanked me closer. "Go ahead, compare us," he said with a smirk, his grip firm as he positioned me beside him. There we stood, stripped down to our underwear, every detail of my humiliation laid bare in stark contrast. Anand stood tall, radiating confidence, his muscles flexing as though he knew he owned the room. My shoulders slumped instinctively, and when Ananya’s eyes flicked between us, it felt like a spotlight on every inch of my inadequacy. My eyes, despite my effort to avoid it, flicked toward the massive bulge in his crotch. The comparison was devastating, and I felt myself shrink even further under the weight of my inadequacy.


Anand gestured for Ananya to stand. She rose slowly, her movements hesitant, the white babydoll I had chosen for her clinging to her frame. My eyes flicked between the delicate mangalsutra resting against her chest and the white babydoll clinging to her frame. Both were supposed to mean something—symbols of love, intimacy, and trust. But here, they felt stripped of their meaning, reduced to props in a twisted spectacle.


The mangalsutra, once a promise I’d sworn to uphold, now dangled as a silent witness to my failure. The babydoll, meant for a moment of tenderness, now felt like a cruel costume, its softness contrasting painfully with the sharp edges of the humiliation cutting into us both. Together, they told a story I couldn’t bear to accept—a story of everything we had lost.


"What do you think, Ananya?" he asked, his tone almost playful, but laced with a taunting edge.


Her eyes flicked back and forth between us, each glance feeling like a verdict I wasn’t ready to hear. Her gaze cut through me, as if each glance stripped away another layer of my pride. Did she really see me like this now—small, weak, a shadow of the man I thought I was? I told myself she didn’t want to be here any more than I did, but the flicker of something—curiosity, maybe even reluctant interest—when she looked at him felt like a dagger. Was it just his confidence? His sheer presence? Or was I fooling myself into thinking there was still anything left between us worth saving?


Her body trembled as if every movement was a battle between reluctance and inevitability, her gaze heavy with unspoken emotions I couldn’t decode. Anand stood there as the undeniable Alpha, exuding power and dominance, while I felt reduced to nothing more than the defeated 'beta,' powerless in the shadow he cast.


Anand shifted his attention to Manavi, giving her a slight nod., Manavi leaned against the wall, her arms crossed as she watched the scene with a glint of amusement in her eyes. She seemed to drink in every detail, her smirk widening when Ketan hesitated under Anand’s towering presence. "Quite the contrast, isn’t it?" she murmured, her words cutting through the tense silence as she shifted her gaze to Ananya.


Manavi’s movements unhurried and almost teasing as she approached me. Her eyes met mine briefly, a glimmer of mischief in them, before she reached for my waistband. With a quick, practiced motion, she pulled my underwear down to the floor. Her soft giggle broke the tense silence, a sound that felt almost out of place—light and playful, yet dripping with mockery. "I mean, what’s the point of these, anyway?" she teased, flicking the waistband of Ketan’s underwear before pulling them down with a practiced ease. "Might as well save you the trouble of pretending."


"Now, Ananya," Anand said, his voice firm and commanding, as he turned his attention to her. She hesitated, her body tense, but the weight of the moment seemed to push her forward. With trembling hands, she reached for his waistband, her fingers brushing against the fabric as if reluctant to continue. After a shaky breath, she finally pulled his boxers down, revealing his intimidating physique.I wanted to look away, but my eyes refused to cooperate.


The sight of her hands shaking as they worked against the waistband—it was a moment burned into my memory, one I knew I’d never escape. Was she thinking of me at all as she stood there? Did she feel guilty, or was that just wishful thinking? I could tell myself it was all Anand’s coercion, that she had no choice, but the truth was that I didn’t know. And not knowing—that was the worst part. It gnawed at me, hollowing me out from the inside. Even without an erection, his size was undeniable—long, thick, and veined, a clear and devastating contrast to me. The comparison stung, each detail driving a fresh nail into my already shattered dignity.


As Anand’s boxers dropped to the floor, the room seemed to close in on us. The air felt heavier, the tension almost suffocating. Ananya’s eyes widened just a fraction, her expression a mixture of awe and apprehension as she glanced up at Anand. He met her gaze with a slow, approving nod, his confidence unshakable. The scene couldn’t have been clearer—Anand stood as the undisputed Alpha, towering in dominance, while I remained in the background, painfully aware of my humiliation and irrelevance in that moment.
Anand’s cock began to swell, twitching as blood rushed through it, growing thicker and harder with each passing moment. Ananya’s eyes stayed on it, her expression caught between reluctance and a forced curiosity she couldn’t hide. "Meet Stallion," Anand said with a smug whisper, his voice dripping with pride. "As you can see, he’s already eager to make your acquaintance."

The air was thick with the scent of Anand’s musk, a bold, overpowering reminder of his presence. Ananya took a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling herself against what was to come. As she exhaled, her lips parted slightly, trembling with nervous anticipation. Anand stepped closer, the tip of his cock brushing against her lips. She froze, hesitation written all over her face.

Ananya’s lips hovered over his shaft, the hesitation in her movements clear as day. She lingered, her breath shallow, as though the mere proximity to him was too much to bear. I wanted to scream, to pull her away, but all I could do was stand there, watching as her trembling lips finally brushed against him. My stomach twisted violently, and a wave of nausea swept over me as she continued, her every action a brutal reminder of my helplessness.


With steady insistence, he pressed forward, leaving her no choice but to part her lips. The moment of contact made her body tense, her shoulders drawing up as if to shield herself. She leaned back instinctively, her discomfort plain, her jaw stretching to accommodate him. Anand’s hands gently cupped the back of her head, guiding her forward, though she resisted, barely taking in the tip. Her eyes darted up, glistening with unease, her struggle to manage his size painfully evident.


From the corner of the room, Manavi observed the scene with a smirk, her expression an infuriating mix of amusement and control. "Relax, Ananya," she said softly, her tone almost soothing but with an edge of condescension. "It’s better if you just... go with it. You might even enjoy yourself." Her words hung in the air, adding to the suffocating tension.


Ananya steadied herself, her trembling hand resting on Anand’s thigh while the other hovered uncertainty by her side. Every move she made was hesitant, guided more by Anand’s firm grip than any willingness of her own.


After a few tense moments, Anand eased back, giving Ananya a brief reprieve as he stood tall, his presence commanding. "And now," he said with a smirk, his tone heavy with mockery, "let’s give her a real comparison." Ananya’s eyes dropped reluctantly, her gaze settling on his balls, which hung prominently, their size a stark reminder of the difference between us. Anand’s voice softened slightly, but his words carried undeniable authority. "Go on," he instructed, "show them some appreciation."


Ananya leaned forward with visible hesitation, her movements painfully slow and uncertain. Her trembling lips brushed against the base of his shaft, placing a hesitant kiss before trailing upward with small, tentative licks. She paused, her discomfort evident in every motion, before moving hesitantly down to his balls. She briefly took one into her mouth, her actions mechanical, devoid of any enthusiasm. The tension in her body was unmistakable, every inch of her showing how much she wanted to be anywhere but here.


Anand released his grip, letting his cock rest heavily across Ananya’s face. A few drops of precum smeared against her forehead, an unintentional mark that felt like a final declaration of his control. The act wasn’t just physical—it was a symbol of his dominance, leaving no doubt about the power he held in that moment.


"Now, let’s check the results," Anand said with a smirk, pulling Ananya to her feet. His eyes locked onto hers, unyielding, as if daring her to look away. Slowly, he placed his hand on her stomach, his fingers teasing the edge of her panties before slipping beneath them. Ananya gasped sharply, her entire body stiffening at his touch. Her eyes widened, filled with a mix of fear and silent pleading—not directed at Anand but past him, as though searching for a way out or even hoping I might intervene.


"I think the results speak for themselves," Anand said smugly, pulling his hand back. His middle and ring fingers glistened, coated with Ananya’s wetness all the way to the second knuckle. Holding them up deliberately, he brought them to his mouth, tasting her with an exaggerated savor, his smirk widening in satisfaction. The blatant display of her arousal hit me like a gut punch—a mix of shock, humiliation, and, to my shame, a faint stir of arousal I couldn’t fully suppress.


Anand took his time, savoring the taste with a smirk that felt like it was aimed straight at me. As I watched, a rush of memories hit me—simpler, happier times with Ananya, when our love felt pure and untouched, before everything had grown so distant. The stark contrast between those tender moments and the humiliation unfolding now was almost too much to bear. It burned, stirring a storm of jealousy, anger, and an overwhelming sense of defeat that left me feeling smaller than ever.

"Mmmmmm," Anand hummed, savoring the taste like it was a victory. "Now, let me show you what it’s like to be with a real man," he said, his tone dripping with arrogance. With deliberate movements, he reached for Ananya’s babydoll, sliding the straps off her shoulders as he began to undress her. This was it—the line we could never return from, the moment everything I thought I knew about us shattered.

As he slid the straps of her babydoll off her shoulders, I caught a fleeting glimpse of her mangalsutra, the delicate black beads swinging against her chest. It should have been a shield, a reminder of the bond we shared. Instead, it dangled there like a silent mockery of everything I had failed to protect."
Every fiber of my being screamed at me to act, to do something, anything to put an end to this nightmare. But my legs felt like lead, my voice caught somewhere in my throat. I wasn’t just frozen—I was breaking, piece by piece, under the weight of my own failure. I had always believed that, when it came down to it, I would protect her. That I’d be the man she needed. But here I was, watching my so-called best friend take her from me, and all I could do was stand there and let it happen.

[Givemeextra]

Pls make Hubby lick Anand's shaft each time he is getting ready to put it inside Ananya's front and backend holes. This will increase his submission further.

Hope in future updates, Ananya 

• makes hubby eat her cum filled spit
  
• makes hubby lick cum off ground
  
• kicks hubby useless balls until he cries in unberable pain
  
• calls hubby and his family members [especially females like mother/sister] bad names
  

More extreme:

• makes hubby drink Anand's urine
  
• makes hubby lick Anand's ass*ole
  
• makes hubby untie his mangalsutra and tie it on Anand's shaft instead
  
• gets hubby to buy a costly gold mangalsutra online and give to Anand and ask him to tie  >  bless both of them for a many first nights
  

 - clearly was in some mood when writing above. Ignore if not ok with story plot.  

[Betacucky]

Pls make Hubby lick Anand's shaft each time he is getting ready to put it inside Ananya's front and backend holes. This will increase his submission further.

Hope in future updates, Ananya 

• makes hubby eat her cum filled spit
  
• makes hubby lick cum off ground
  
• kicks hubby useless balls until he cries in unberable pain
  
• calls hubby and his family members [especially females like mother/sister] bad names
  

More extreme:

• makes hubby drink Anand's urine
  
• makes hubby lick Anand's ass*ole
  
• makes hubby untie his mangalsutra and tie it on Anand's shaft instead
  
• gets hubby to buy a costly gold mangalsutra online and give to Anand and ask him to tie  >  bless both of them for a many first nights
  

 - clearly was in some mood when writing above. Ignore if not ok with story plot.  

Hahah.. Wow ! And I thought I was the perverted one. Thank you so much for your ideas @Givemeextra. I will try and see if your suggestions fit into the story.

[Gopal Ratnam]

Anand should make Ananya to remove the mangalsutra and throw it on the face of Ketan.

[Betacucky]

Title Journey through betrayal is not matching with the flow. Anand has taken his friends wife forcefully humiliating his friend and his wife is partner in crime on that. Is he friend or enemy.

Its a betrayal no ? Betrayal by his friend and his wife....and maybe Ananya too ?  Read the entire story first ! We can have a poll on the title later.

[Betacucky]

Anand should make Ananya to remove the mangalsutra and throw it on the face of Ketan.

Love it !

[Betacucky]

Hey guys.. as I begin writing the next part...please share ur feedback and what do you think about the story so far ? It helps a lot with the motivation.

[Betacucky]

Chapter 4



In a swift, almost violent motion, Anand tore the rest of the delicate fabric of the babydoll and flung it aside. The lingerie struck my chest before drifting to the floor, like the final remnants of something precious being discarded. The impact wasn’t just physical—it was symbolic, a cruel unraveling of our bond. My chest tightened as tears blurred my vision again. Was it deliberate? Had he meant to throw this at me, to remind me of what he was taking, or was it just a meaningless accident in his display of dominance? Either way, the message was clear: What once was ours was now his to control.

Anand sat on the bed with an air of ownership, pulling Ananya down beside him as though she belonged to him now. I hesitated, my legs trembling, before sinking into the chair across the room, mimicking his action but from a distance. As I sat, I became disturbingly aware of my own arousal, a betrayal of my emotions and the gravity of the moment. The shame of it was unbearable, especially when my mind, unbidden, drew comparisons to the sheer dominance Anand exuded. It felt like a cruel joke, my body reacting to a scene that stripped away my dignity one moment at a time.

Anand's hands assertively claimed Ananya's body, his touch resonating with ownership as he explored her boobs. His fingers traced her skin deliberately, coaxing her nipples into tight peaks with practiced manipulation. He pinched and rolled them, drawing forth soft noises that filled the quiet room with echoes of his dominance. As Ananya's responses grew, Anand leaned in closer, his mouth finding her now sensitive breasts. He sucked on each nipple in turn, intensifying the sensation with a gentle tug that elicited deeper, more desperate yet reluctant moans from Ananya.She was trying to cover her boobs with her hands but Anand moved them aside, a silent plea woven into the motion, her eyes fluttering shut in a mixture of pain and pleasure. This act wasn’t merely physical but a stark display of control, visibly asserting his dominance in a way that left me immobilized, caught in a complex web of dismay and an unsettling stir of arousal.

Manavi came closer, her steps slow, her smirk making it clear she was enjoying this. The look in her eyes said it all—this wasn’t random; it was all part of their plan.
She reached out, her hand brushing against my thigh before moving to the small bulge in my boxers. Her touch wasn’t comforting—it was teasing, almost like she wanted to remind me how pathetic I looked. Without missing a beat, her hand slipped into my boxers, grabbing hold of my penis. "Oh, it’s so tiny and cute," she said with a laugh, her words hitting like a slap. Her fingers tightened slightly.

She leaned in closer, her lips almost brushing my ear. "Look at them," she whispered, her voice low and mocking. "Your wife is finally seeing what a real man is like."
Her next words were colder, hitting me like a punch. "You know, she’s never going to feel the same after tonight," she said, her tone dripping with fake pity. Each word cut deeper, making the humiliation almost unbearable.

The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating me with humiliation and betrayal. Manavi’s words kept repeating in my head, each one hitting harder than the last. I forced myself to look at Ananya with Anand, and that’s when it really sank in—there was no going back. Whatever we had, whatever we were, was slipping away with every passing second, and I couldn’t stop it.

Manavi kept toying with me, her fingers pulling my boxers down with an ease that made me feel even smaller. "Let me take care of your little guy," she said, her tone dripping with mock kindness. Before I could even react, she took me fully into her mouth, the sudden warmth catching me off guard. For a fleeting moment, in the middle of this nightmare, it felt like I’d found some twisted relief.

Across the room, Anand didn’t even flinch at what his wife was doing—it was like this was normal for them. That thought lingered, making me question if their marriage had always been this open, this... twisted. My eyes darted to Ananya, who was now on her knees before Anand, but I couldn’t focus. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to escape everything, even for a second. But the moment was short-lived, and the crushing reality came rushing back.

Manavi suddenly pulled away, leaving me dazed and confused.

As Manavi pulled her hand back, leaving a chill where her warmth had just been, Ketan couldn’t help but glance over at Anand. He felt a familiar twinge of inferiority. There was Anand, commanding the room with that bold confidence Ketan always wished he had. Memories started creeping in—times when he'd silently resented standing in Anand's shadow, watching him charm everyone effortlessly back in college. Each flashback stung a little more now, highlighting how he'd always played the second fiddle. Watching Anand now, so in control, Ketan couldn't shake off the feeling that his worst fears about himself were on full display, painfully obvious to the very people he hoped would never see them. 

"Do you want to fuck me?" Manavi asked, her voice low but clear. I froze, unsure if I’d heard her right. Slowly, she began sliding off her pajamas, revealing black lacy panties that hugged her hips perfectly. "Come on, put it in me," she demanded, bending over the edge of the chair. The twisted absurdity of the moment didn’t stop me. Desperate for any escape from my shame, I obeyed.

I slid her panties down and positioned myself at her entrance, pushing in slowly. But as I did, my stomach dropped. There was no friction—none. I hesitated, stunned, as Manavi turned to glance back at me, confusion flashing across her face.

"Stop teasing me and just do it," she snapped impatiently. I tried again, but it was useless. She started laughing—soft at first, but it grew louder, cutting through the room like a knife. Her laughter burned, and tears pricked my eyes as I realized the full extent of my humiliation. Is this what my wife is going to feel like after tonight ? 

Manavi stepped back, leaving me in my misery as she walked over to watch her husband with my wife.

Anand already had Anana on her back. He had decided to go down on her, laying her gently on the bed. She tried to close her legs, shy and resistant, but Anand wasn't having it. He firmly pushed them apart and positioned himself between them. "You have a very beautiful pussy, Ananya," he said loud enough for me to hear. 

He then bent down, his lips meeting her intimate ones. I knew from experience how beautiful they were. Unlike other Indian women they were pinkish instead of brown. Ananya continued to resist, attempting to cover herself with her hands, but it was a futile effort. Although my view was partially obstructed, the soft, reluctant hums from Ananya indicated that Anand was hitting all the right spots.

With his fingers, he spread her lips to expose her clit, spat on it, and then sucked the moisture back up, drawing another sharp whimper from Ananya as her hands moved to clutch at the bedsheet above her head. Anand kept up his relentless attention, running his tongue across her, flicking her clit occasionally, and probing her opening. He was preparing her, molding her pussy to fit his stallion. 

Anand's stare was sharp, piercing through the dimness with an icy intensity that commanded the room. "Come here," he commanded me, his voice deep and resonant, echoing with a menacing authority that seemed to reverberate off the walls. Each step I took toward him felt difficult, as if I were walking through thick mud, my heart pounding audibly in my chest, thumping a relentless rhythm of dread and a reluctant anticipation that I struggled to suppress.

"Lick it," Anand ordered, his voice harsh and commanding, his cruel smirk widening as he gestured toward his erect, throbbing cock. The directive struck me like a slap, a surge of humiliation flooding through me, washing over my senses in waves of disgrace and shame. With a heavy heart, I knelt before him, the proximity to his overpowering masculinity almost overwhelming—the air was thick with his musky scent, tinged with the acrid hint of sweat.

As I drew closer, the details of his cock became oppressively clear—veins prominent against the taut skin, each one a stark reminder of the power he wielded over me. The shadows in the room seemed to converge around us, deepening the sense of my degradation as I leaned in, the heat from his body intensifying the stifling atmosphere. My lips parted reluctantly, the taste of my own defeat bitter against my tongue as I prepared to comply with his humiliating command, each breath I took heavy with the weight of the moment, a palpable tension filling the room as I surrendered to his will.

With trembling hands, I reached out, the heat from his body radiating onto my skin. My fingers brushed against the thick base of his cock, feeling the pulsing heat and the velvety texture of his skin. It was way thicker than what I was used to holding. I paused, my breath catching in my throat as I forced myself to extend my tongue. The first touch of my tongue to the smooth, heated flesh of Anand’s cock was electric, metallic and slightly salty to the taste. I dragged my tongue slowly up the length of his shaft, each movement deliberate and filled with a mortifying mixture of revulsion and an inexplicable arousal.

As I bent to Anand's degrading command, a part of me recoiled, sickened by what I was doing. How had it come to this? Yet, disturbingly, with each command Anand uttered, my body betrayed me with a confusing reaction—my own cock twitched, an unwanted response that filled me with deep self-loathing. I wasn’t attracted to men, but the perverse thrill of his absolute control seemed to trigger something involuntary within me, a humiliating acknowledgment of his dominance that chipped away at my self-respect.

The texture under my tongue was unnervingly intimate—ridged veins and black skin that twitched at my touch. Anand groaned above me, a sound of dark approval that sent a shiver down my spine. “That’s it, prepare it well,” he murmured, his hand finding the back of my head and pressing gently, guiding my movements as I serviced him with growing desperation.

After what felt like an agonizing eternity, Anand finally pulled back, his lips curled in a satisfied smirk. He turned his attention back to Ananya, who lay on the bed, her breathing quick and uneven, her chest rising and falling rapidly as anxiety washed over her. "Guide me into her," he whispered roughly, his voice low and commanding as he held his slick, saliva-coated cock. "Put it where it belongs."

With a heavy heart, I aligned the head of his cock at the entrance of Ananya’s pussy. The stark contrast between my submission and his impending invasion of her was overwhelming. Ananya preparing for her ordeal  let out a sharp gasp. Her eyes widened, filled with a mix of dread and acceptance, as she stared at the moment about to unfold. The room seemed to hold its breath, filled with a thick tension as I held him there, just touching the entrance, waiting for what was next. 

"I’m going to make you into my slut tonight, and trust me—you’ll enjoy it," Anand whispered harshly, his voice a sinister promise that hung thick in the air. He gave no chance for any plea or protest. In one swift, merciless motion, he thrust forward, burying just half of his massive cock. Ananya's response was immediate and visceral; a sharp, pained scream tore from her lips, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh Marrrrrrrrrrrr Gayiiiiiiiiiii ," echoing through the room. Her cry was raw, filled with a mix of pain and shock so profound it was as if her very soul was recoiling. Tears streamed unchecked down her face, tracing lines of clear agony against her flushed skin. 

It was a gut-wrenching moment, watching her body arch and tense under the brutal invasion, her hands clutching at the sheets in a desperate attempt to anchor herself to something, anything.

The intensity of her scream suggested a pain so deep, it was as if she was experiencing losing her virginity all over again. Each of Anand’s subsequent thrusts twisted that metaphorical knife deeper into my gut, a stark and relentless reminder of the physical and emotional betrayal unfolding before my eyes. The sound of their bodies meeting—skin against skin in a harsh, unyielding rhythm—created a backdrop to her cries that was almost primitive in its brutality.

The room resonated with the low thumping and rhythmic sounds of Ananya's increasingly labored breathing, mixed with the subtle creak of the bed. Each breath Ananya took seemed to catch halfway, releasing in soft, involuntary noises. Anand moved with deliberate intensity, his every motion calculated to dominate both the physical and emotional space as their shadows danced against the dimly lit walls.

Anand's movements grew more forceful, each thrust more deliberate and punishing, echoing through the room with the harsh sound of skin on skin. Ananya's screams escalated with each push, her voice cracking under the sheer intensity of her pain, the sound raw and haunting. But Anand seemed unfazed by her distress; he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear, as he whispered with delight, "I love fucking wives in front of their husbands." He paused, letting the sinister words hang heavy in the air, his cruel smile broadening, relishing the twisted power of his words.

"And I’m going to make sure you enjoy it, Ananya," he continued, his voice low and menacing. "Soon, you’ll crave this—crave another man fucking you like this, while your husband watches, completely helpless." 

With each forceful push, it seemed Anand drove himself deeper, his control absolute. Ananya's body tensed sharply against him, her back arching as though trying to escape, but bound by the overwhelming force of his presence. Her initial screams of pain slowly transformed into desperate, broken pleas, her voice trembling, "Aaah, aahh, please... slowly," she whimpered. But Anand was relentless, ignoring her pleas entirely.

Instead, he kissed her deeply, his lips pressing against hers with a hunger that seemed to consume her, his tongue invading her mouth as if claiming every part of her being. His hands gripped her boobs tightly, fingers digging into her flesh, owning every inch of her. The intensity of his grasp left little imprints on her breasts, marking them as his property.

Each of his movements was intensely possessive, leaving no room for resistance, no space for Ananya to retreat. The room filled with the sounds of their bodies colliding, the continuous rhythmic thud of the bed against the wall, and Ananya's increasingly labored breathing mixed with occasional pleas. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and the undeniable aroma of sex, enveloping them.

Anand's domination was not just physical but profoundly psychological, imprinting on Ananya a mixture of fear, pain, and a twisted thread of pleasure that was confusing and overwhelming. The complexity of her emotions played out vividly across her face, each grimace, each reluctant sound painting a picture of her internal turmoil as Anand continued his relentless assault, each thrust aiming to erase her past self and reshape her into the image of his perverse desire.

Manavi stayed close, her gaze fixed on the scene with an unsettling mix of fascination and amusement. She didn’t say much at first, just watching, but her smirk spoke volumes. Her presence alone was enough to remind me how twisted this entire situation had become.

Anand suddenly paused , got up and glanced over at me with a  smirk. He motioned for Ananya to stand beside him, her body still trembling from the onslaught. Reaching for the mangalsutra that still hung around her neck, he drew her close, his fingers delicately tracing the sacred beads. "Let's see if this symbol of your love can handle something more substantial," he sneered. With a cold precision, he unclasped the mangalsutra and handed it to me. "Tie this around my cock, Ketan. Make yourself useful for once."

With a heavy heart, I took the mangalsutra in my shaking hands, the beads cold and alien against the heated backdrop of our betrayal. Approaching Anand, I wrapped the mangalsutra around his engorged cock with trembling hands, each bead sliding into place with a definitive click that echoed like a gunshot in the silent room. The weight of our vows now encircled his huge cock, a perverse crown of my own making.

"This is where it belongs now," Anand declared, thrusting forward as the beads brushed against Ananya’s skin with each movement. Ananya's eyes, wide with shock and hurt, met mine over his shoulder, a silent scream in their depths.

The minutes stretched endlessly, each second adding to the torment. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, even as I wished I could. Ananya’s screams, which had been filled with pain and resistance, started to change. Slowly, they softened, morphing into something I didn’t want to believe—

Her cries changed, giving way to something else—low, breathy moans that sent a jolt through me. "Hmmm...mpphhh...mpphhhh," the sounds escaped her lips, hesitant at first, but quickly growing in intensity. My stomach churned as I watched her body respond to him. Her hips started moving, almost involuntarily, meeting his thrusts with a rhythm that felt like a knife twisting deeper into my chest. 

Every so often, Manavi leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. "Look at her," she murmured, her tone dripping with mockery. "See how much she’s starting to enjoy it? I bet you never thought you’d witness this." Her words hit their mark, each one twisting the knife deeper into the knot of shame and helplessness in my chest.

I couldn’t look away, though every second felt like a punishment. The way her back arched, her boobs bounced with each thrust, pressing against his chest, the flush spreading over her skin—it was all too much. This wasn’t the woman I knew. The Ananya I married would never—could never—sound like this, move like this, lose herself like this. "Ahhh... ahhh.. ahhh," her moans grew louder with each thrust, filling the room, drowning out my thoughts. I felt devastated as I tried to ground myself against the rising tide of humiliation and despair. She was responding to him in ways she never had with me, and no matter how much I wanted to believe it was all his doing, part of me couldn’t ignore the undeniable truth. This wasn’t just happening to her—it was happening with her.

I wanted to blame him for all of this—for the way her body was moving, for the sounds that escaped her lips. But deep down, a small, hateful voice whispered that part of her wanted this, needed this. That voice was a blade, carving away at the remnants of my pride.

"Suddenly, Ananya’s soft moans escalated into a loud, prolonged scream that seemed to fill the entire room. Aaaaaaagggghhhhhhhhh...." Her body stiffened abruptly, then shuddered as though struck by a massive wave. Her stomach and her lower body kept twitching for 30 seconds. . Anand immediately noticed, his grin morphing into something darkly triumphant as his gaze flicked toward me. He didn’t need to utter a word; his expression conveyed everything. He had conquered my woman, making Ananya climax on his formidable size, a feat I had never achieved. He had dominated my wife in a way I never could, and he made sure I was fully aware of it. 

As I stood there, the reality that Ananya had just experienced such an intense orgasm under another man's touch was a bitter pill to swallow, leaving me grappling with disbelief.

Anand gave her a moment to enjoy the sensations. He paused, standing up with an air of control that made my stomach churn. Without hesitation, he strode over to me and yanked me up by the arm, his grip like iron.

"You too stand up, slut," he barked at Ananya, his voice sharp and commanding. She moved slowly, climbing off the bed without protest, her head lowered as though avoiding his gaze.

He turned back to me, his face hard and unyielding. "Your turn, bitch boy," he said sharply, his words cutting through the silence like a knife. Do you know what a three way 69 is?" he asked. I shook my head. I did not know what it meant.  "Lie down with your head at the foot of the bed." His voice was firm, leaving no room for any protest, and the authority in his tone made me shiver as I slowly obeyed. His commands felt heavy in the air, each one echoing in my ears, reminding me of how little power I had left.

As I lay there, a sense of dread filled my chest, cold and heavy. I couldn't stop wondering what Anand would do next, the uncertainty gnawing at me. Just then, I caught Ananya's gaze. Her eyes were unnaturally calm, holding mine in a steady, almost unsettling stare.

Her eyes held a mix of emotions—love, fear, desperation—all swirling together in a silent storm that seemed to pull me in. This strange calmness in her gaze brought a small relief to my panic. 

Lying flat on my back at the foot of the bed, I was transformed into an involuntary platform for Anand's domination. He lifted Ananya and positioned her in a modified doggy style directly on top of my body. Her stomach pressed against mine, and her face, a picture of confusion and dread, was turned outward. Horrifyingly, her gaze was inadvertently directed towards my tiny lulli. Wait, did I just start referring to my penis as lulli?

The intimate details of her pussy were painfully clear from this angle—her tight pink petals vividly exposed. I smelt their musky aroma. Her pussy smelt a mix of her and Anand’s scent. In this position, every inch of her was agonizingly visible to me. Anand stood beside the bed, towering over us both. He maintained his balance while controlling the motion with precise dominance, his massive length in hand as he prepared to re-enter Ananya. The bed creaked under the shift of his weight as he leaned forward, his movements orchestrated with clinical precision.

He moved forward and his 8 inch long monster came into view. He crawled closer and put his knees on either side of my head. He was aiming his cock straight at Ananya’s pussy. His size never failed to amaze me. I moved out of the way making way for his invader. He skillfully rubbed his cock all over Ananya’s pussy gathering up all the wetness. He rubbed his cock up and down her slit brushing against her clit. Anand placed the tip of his cock at her entrance and pushed slightly. Ananya's outer lips puffed and stretched. As he pushed further, they spread wider exposing her engorged clitoris. Her pussy was visibly stretched but Anand had still not entered her. With the tip of his cock locked in place, Anand reached around and started skilfully rubbing her clit. Her pussy contracted squeezing the tip and immediately relaxed. Anand pushed forward and her pussy closed around his head. Anand moved his hand away and held her in place by her hips. He waited and let her get used to his size again. Her lips were still stretched, and her clit was clearly visible. 

As he thrust forward, the mangalsutra tied grotesquely around his engorged cock swung ominously. The black beads, symbols of our sacred marriage vows, tapped rhythmically against Ananya's skin with each powerful thrust. This perverse display turned the sacred necklace into a chilling reminder of the vows it once honored, now twisted into a tool of humiliation.

Each movement from Anand caused Ananya's body to shift slightly on top of me, the pressure fluctuating with the rhythm of his thrusts. The situation trapped me both physically and emotionally under the weight of their union. The degradation symbolized by the mangalsutra, combined with Anand's physical dominance, was as clear in its execution as it was devastating in its implications.

Anand started with small slow strokes. Pulling out and stuffing in a little more of his cock on each stroke. Just like before Ananya's pussy lips would stretch out clinging to his cock when he withdrew. . My erection was swinging back and forth as Anand's strokes started shaking the bed. When he was halfway in, Ananya started to have an orgasm. Anand was on an out stroke, and he stopped. I could clearly see the twitching of her stretched lips squeezing and relaxing as if trying to pull his cock back in. Her muscles continued to twitch for another 30 seconds as she let out a long moan "Aaaaaaagggghhhhhhhhh". She was so close to my penis that I felt the vibrations of her moan run down its length and into my balls.

Anand patiently waited for her to finish cumming before starting again. Just his size and stamina would be enough for any woman, but his skill was amazing. He varied his strokes. Faster-slower, deeper-shallower. Sometimes he would just rotate his hips in a circular motion. As he went deeper, I could see Ananya's lower belly bulge every time he pushed in. It was clearly visible how far he was going..

[sri7869]

Good story

[Givemeextra]

Chapter 4

Thank You for adding some of my requests. Loved it
Best episode so far 
Hope humiliations is not yet over.
Added Rep.

[Betacucky]

Thank You for adding some of my requests. Loved it
Best episode so far 
Hope humiliations is not yet over.
Added Rep.

You are welcome Givemeextra. Yup. The humiliations are just getting started.

[Betacucky]

I remembered the first time Ananya had nervously held my hand on a quiet beach in Goa, the way she blushed when I kissed her forehead. The nights we spent lying awake, planning a future that felt boundless. These moments, so vivid and real, now clashed violently with the scene before me. The memory of her shy laugh when I first told her I loved her seemed like a distant echo, drowned out by the sound of her voice now—a sound I couldn’t reconcile with the woman I thought I knew.

Was this still the same Ananya I married? Or had something in her changed—broken? No, this wasn’t her, I tried to tell myself. It was him. It was all him. But the longer I watched, the harder it became to believe that.

After her latest orgasm, Anand spat on her asshole a couple of times. The spit trickled down her crack and around their connected privates lubricating the joint before falling onto my face. I wiped it off my face. Happy with the increased lubrication, Anand forcefully pulled Ananya back while powerfully thrusting forward and buried the last couple of inches into her. Ananya had an instant intense orgasm and started shivering all over. As Anand pushed completely in his balls hit my forehead.

"Well, bitch," Anand sneered, his voice saturated with arrogance as his eyes locked onto mine, conveying a challenge. "Is my cock better than your husband's?" The question sliced through the air, sharp and malicious, but Ananya remained silent, her eyes wide and filled with conflicting emotions.
Her lack of response seemed to ignite a spark of frustration in Anand. Without a moment's hesitation, he raised his hand and delivered a stinging slap to her buttocks. The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot, echoing off the walls. I winced as if the blow had landed on my own flesh. Ananya's body jolted from the impact, and she let out a sharp, piercing cry, "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" The sound was a raw expression of both pain and shock.
Anand’s face hardened, his features set in a mask of determination. "I asked you a question," he growled, his voice now edged with a steely command. "Is it better than your husband’s?" 

Driven by the intensity of the moment or perhaps the overwhelming sensations forced upon her, Ananya finally broke. "Yes! It’s so much better than my husband’s! Fuck me harder, please!" Her voice, desperate and laden with a surrender that tore at my soul, filled the room. Anand paused, his cruel smile never wavering, and he leaned in close to Ananya, his voice dripping with venomous triumph. "Was that your first real orgasm of your life?" he taunted, each word a deliberate prod to deepen the humiliation.
"Yes," Ananya gasped, the word escaping her lips as a breathless affirmation, heavy with realization and regret.

Laughing softly, Anand's taunt cut deeper, "It's a pity your husband couldn't be the one to give it to you. But don't worry, there are plenty more where that came from." His words, like daggers, left no doubt about his intent to continue their torturous game.

As she spoke those devastating words, I gazed up at her, my vision blurring with a mixture of tears and disbelief. The woman above me was a stranger to me now, transformed under Anand's dominating presence. Her face was flushed with a carnal flush that painted her cheeks a deep rose, her eyes glazed over with pleasure that was hard for me to witness. Her body responded with a primal honesty, her back arching, pushing herself against him, seeking more of the intensity that Anand delivered with each forceful thrust.
Amid the intense rhythm of his forceful thrusts, Anand steadied his breath as he looked at me with a smirk. He briefly slowed his relentless pace and asked Ananya. "Has your husband ever fucked you like this?" he taunted, his breath hot against her skin, each word dripping with a challenge meant to diminish and provoke.

Ananya, caught in the throes of an overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure, took a moment to gather her breath before answering. Her voice, shaky and laden with a reluctant confession, barely rose above a whisper, "No... never like this..." Her admission cut through the air, stark and heavy, leaving a cold weight in my chest. It was a declaration that not only acknowledged Anand’s physical dominance but also subtly underscored the vast gulf between the passion Anand could ignite in her and the disappointment I had been.

"Why not?" Anand's voice cut sharply through the tense atmosphere, his inquiry a barbed hook designed to unearth deep insecurities and provoke dark fears.

Ananya, her eyes closed with a tear rolling down her cheek, responded in a whisper filled with humiliation. "Because... his thing is not as big," she confessed, her words muddled with shame and bitter truth. "It wasn’t enough, not like this, not like yours," she added, her tone a mix of awe and sorrow.

Anand pressed further, his voice dripping with derision. "What isn’t as big?" he prodded, eager to twist the knife.

"His... his penis," Ananya replied, her voice breaking under the weight of her admission during the rhythmic thuds of their bodies.

"Do you think it’s small?" Anand goaded, pushing for every drop of degradation.

"Yes," she gasped out, each affirmation synchronized with the relentless motion. "It’s... it’s too small."

"Say it properly. Call it his lulli. Tell him, tell Ketan his lulli is too small to satisfy you," Anand commanded, his tone cruel and mocking.

Her voice a tremulous blend of forced clarity and despair, Ananya uttered the humiliating words, "Ketan, your lulli is too small to satisfy me."

Anand's laughter echoed around the room, rich with cruel satisfaction. "I thought as much," he smirked, reveling in the painful scene he orchestrated. "It must be tough, settling for something so... inadequate." His taunting was merciless, each word a deliberate strike meant to carve deep into the wounds of my inadequacy, leaving emotional scars that felt permanent and raw.

This new side of Ananya, unrestrained and vocal in her needs, was completely alien to me. She was no longer the reserved and gentle soul I had married; instead, she was being reshaped by Anand's unyielding dominance, molded into a form that responded to his control and power. The stark realization that she was not just submitting but responding to him shattered any remnants of hope I harbored. Her moans, now filled with a raw urgency, punctuated the air, marking the irrevocable change in our relationship and in her.

"Do you see, Ketan? Do you see how she is fucking me back?" Anand's voice was soft, almost a taunt whispered with a venomous sweetness. "Right here, right over you, and you... you can’t do a thing." Ananya’s body was arched over me, her hips matching the intensity of Anand’s strokes, her face pointed toward my erection, avoiding the shameful sight of my tiny lulli entirely. 

"This is what she needed—what she wanted. And you? You could never give it to her." I watched helplessly as Ananya’s legs trembled, the way her hips moved to match Anand’s pace—everything told me that he was taking her to places I never could. And through it all, I lay there, powerless, trapped beneath the woman I loved as she was claimed by someone else.

Her orgasms were getting bigger and bigger. In our entire year of marriage, she had never had multiple orgasms. Thoughts about Anand’s sexual appetite and performance ran through my mind. I was Afraid that once my wife experienced the power and superiority of his cock, my tiny penis would need to be satisfied by my own hand ... never able to feel the walls of her pussy again ... never able to cum in its warm folds.

"Tell him, Ananya," Anand urged, his voice low but insistent, almost coaxing. "Let Ketan know exactly where he stands in your life now. Be honest with him." His tone carried a twisted sweetness that made my stomach churn.

Ananya hesitated, her body tense above me as if grappling with whether to obey. For a fleeting moment, I thought she might refuse, might fight back in her own way. But then, her trembling voice broke the silence.

"Ketan..." she began, her words faltering, "You're a bitch... and I have no respect for you."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to shatter me. Each word felt like a blade, cutting deeper than anything Anand had done. At these words Anand started fucking her with new passion and she started moaning “ngghhh nghhh nghhh…”

I stared up at her body, searching for something—regret, guilt, anything that might explain why she’d said it. Was she trying to survive this nightmare? Did she mean it? Or had I failed her so completely that this was how she truly felt? The questions spun in my mind, each one more painful than the last, as her words echoed endlessly in my head.
Anand's eyes glinted with a wild, unrestrained fervor. Without warning, he grasped my shoulder, his grip iron-tight, singalled me to get up and shoved me away from the foot of the bed. The force of his push sent me stumbling backwards, my balance lost in the turmoil of emotions and physical shock. As I struggled to regain my footing, Anand, with a sneer of contempt, ripped the mangalsutra from around his shaft and flung it at me. It landed at my feet, the black beads soaked in Anand’s precum and Ananya’s juices scattering with a sound that echoed like tiny, mocking laughter across the cold floor.

I dropped to my knees, the mangalsutra in my trembling hands, each wet bead now a symbol of shattered vows and broken promises. My eyes blurred with tears, the saltiness stinging my lips as I clutched the sacred necklace, my sobs muffled against the backdrop of the bed's increasing creaks.

Anand rose from the bed and picked up Ananya. His cock was still inside her pussy. He had picked her up with his hands under her knees and her hands were wrapped around his shoulder. I could never fuck Ananya like this. Their bodies were much more compatible. They both had wide well built frames whereas I was a skinny fat person. In this position, Ananya's pussy was perfectly lined up against Anand's crotch with his cock buried to the hilt. He walked over and came close to where I sat on the floor. Now Ananya was almost on top of me and as I looked up, I saw their union. Anand started lifting Ananya and dropping her onto his cock. Ananya's butt smacked against his rock hard stomach as his cock withdrew and buried into her pussy withdrawing matching grunts from Ananya ... aaah ... aaah ... aaah. His balls swung up and hit her ass. Every time he picked her up, I saw Ananya's pussy lips stretch a couple of inches outside as if trying to hold onto Anand's cock. This powerful standing up fucking continued for 10 minutes when I saw Ananya have another orgasm. She seemed to have squirted but because her pussy was stretched around Anand's cock her cum dribbled down his cock and balls and her ass cheeks.

Anand moved her to the bed and turned Ananya around, positioning her on all fours so that she was facing me. He gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her flesh as he aligned himself at her entrance. The room was filled with the sound of his heavy, animalistic grunts and the steady, rhythmic thudding of the bed against the wall. 

Manavii went near them..She had the phone pointed at them. 

Manavi held the camera steady, focusing on Ananya's flushed face. "What's your name?" she asked, her voice clear over the distinct thuds of the bed "Ananya Sharma," Ananya replied, her voice shaky with each thrust, the wet sounds loud in the background.

"Are you married?" Manavi continued, the camera zooming in to capture every detail of Ananya’s expression, glistening with sweat.

"Yes," Ananya gasped, her body trembling under the relentless pace set by Anand.

"Where is your pathetic husband?" Manavi taunted, swinging the camera towards Ketan, capturing his small, defeated figure. It zoomed in on his embarrassed face, then to his body, emphasizing his tiny lulli.

Ananya pointed weakly towards Ketan, her voice almost drowned out by the rhythmic ptch ptch ptch of Anand’s cock entering Ananya’s pussy. "Over there," she managed to say.

Manavi’s voice was mocking. "Does he satisfy you like this?" she pressed, turning the camera back to Ananya, whose face was a mask of pleasure and pain.

"No... he never has..." Ananya moaned, the words punctuated by the wet sounds of Anand's forceful thrusts.

"And what does that make you to Anand?" Manavi asked sharply, eager to capture every humiliating admission.

Ananya's eyes glazed over with resignation and a twisted thrill. "I'm his... his slut, I belong to him now" she confessed loudly, each syllable matching Anand's thrusts. 

Will you let him fuck you again ? Asked Manavi “Look at your husband and tell him” 

"Yessssss…He can fuck me anytime he wants..."

The camera lingered on Ananya’s face, Anand’s dark laughter filled the room, echoing a clear message of domination and victory.

Each forceful thrust pushed her into the bedding, her hands gripping the sheets so tightly that the fabric twisted beneath her clenched fists. She was almost screaming now, signaling not just acceptance but a deep desire of the fierce rhythm Anand set.

As Anand’s movements became even more intense, Ananya's responses grew louder, her voice rising in pitch and desperation. The sounds of her pleasure filled the room, a stark contrast to the earlier sounds of pain. She was fully immersed in the torrent of sensations, each thrust sending waves of pleasure that seemed to wash away any remaining resistance. Her moans were now punctuated by whispers of encouragement, urging Anand on, her words spilling out in breathy, desperate pleas: “"Aaah ... Aaah ... Aaaah ... fuck ... me ... fuck ... me ... fuck ... me ... please... don't ... stop ... I ... love ... this ….harder… please, don’t stop…”

This transformation was etched visibly on her face; her eyes, once wide with apprehension, now fluttered closed, lashes damp with tears of a different kind. Her mouth, slightly open, allowed for the escape of sighs and moans that rhythmically synced with Anand’s every move, painting a picture of a woman not just enduring but reveling in the depths of her physical experiences. The rawness of her vocal affirmations filled the air, enveloping the room in a thick aura of intense eroticism that was impossible to ignore.

Anand continued his incredible assault for 10 mins. I thought he would never cum, but then he stuck his thumb into Ananya's asshole and buried it all the way in.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh ... Anand ... m cuuuuummmmmiiing m... cumming ... m……cumming" screamed Ananya.

As Anand's movements surged towards a climax, his pace became relentless, each thrust more forceful than the last. He was constantly spanking Ananya’s ass.  His breathing grew heavy and uneven, his face contorted with the strain and pleasure of his exertions.Anand now started fucking Ananya with long powerful strokes. Withdrawing his cock fully before plunging it back his hard cock. Ananya was moaning softer now having just orgasmed herself. Anand’s balls started slapping against Ananya's clit on every stroke.

Suddenly, Anand's body shuddered violently, a deep growl emanating from his throat as he reached his climax. I saw his balls squeeze and pump shot after shot of cum into my wife. Ananya's pussy was also twitching in tune with his cock. It looked like one continuous pulse that started from Anand's balls, travelling up his cock pushing his potent seed along and Ananya's pussy matched that pulse all along his shaft perfectly in tune to carry his load deep inside herself. I watched in awe as this mesmerizing throbbing went on for a full two minutes before stopping slowly. Anand withdrew his thumb, grabbed his cock and started pulling out. The smell of cum hit my nostrils and my penis twitched.

"Take a good look, Ketan," Anand said in a calm voice, almost like he was talking about something ordinary. "This is your wife’s pussy, well fucked,  like you’ve never seen before." His cold, detached way of speaking made the moment feel even worse.

I hesitantly looked at Ananya. Her body was exposed in a way that was shockingly intimate. Her pussy was swollen and red, visibly stretched and quivering from Anand's rough fucking. Drops of his semen slowly leaked out of her, each one a clear sign of his control and the deep betrayal of our marriage vows. The scene was brutally honest, showing a complete disregard for the love and respect we once shared.

Anand's next words froze me in place. "I think it’s time for you to leave us," he said politely, but his words cut deep, like he was dismissing someone who had overstayed their welcome. His casual cruelty made my legs shake, but I couldn’t move. 

My eyes turned to Ananya, her body slightly trembling from what had just happened. Her eyes were closed, maybe trying to block out the reality or find some peace. Anand ran his hand down on her ass, as if he owned her. This simple touch was a harsh reminder that he was in control. It stirred a deep need in me to pull her away from him, to protect her from any more harm. But this feeling was mixed with the harsh truth that I had already failed her. The sight before me wasn't just about physical control; it was a total takeover of the life we had built together, leaving me feeling empty and defeated.

As Anand stepped away, Ananya's trembling form shifted slowly on the bed. She rolled over with effort. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath a labored gasp as she sought to regain some semblance of composure. Lying back, her face turned upwards, the damp strands of her hair clung to her forehead, framing her flushed cheeks and the closed eyelids that shielded her from the harsh reality of the moment.

"Still here, Ketan?" Manavi's voice sliced through the heavy air, sharp yet soft, carrying a sinister undertone that made my heart race. She approached me slowly, each step measured and deliberate, her lips curling into a smirk that knew too much. "You don’t want to make things harder for yourself, do you?"
Her words hung heavily between us, each syllable dripping with a venomous blend of mock concern and thinly veiled threat. She reached out, her fingers brushing against my arm in a touch that mingled intimacy with intimidation. "You’ve done enough for tonight," she whispered, her voice a cruel mimicry of compassion.

Reluctantly, my gaze drifted back to Ananya. She lay sprawled on the bed, her body still heaving with the aftershocks of what had transpired. Her skin glistened with sweat, the tangled sheets around her a testament to the intensity of the fucking that she received. As her eyes met mine shimmering with a complex mix of emotions. In them, I saw a plea for forgiveness, her usual sparkle dimmed by the night’s events. Yet, there was also a troubling glint of surrender, the resignation of a woman torn between her commitments and newfound desires. Most unsettling was the faint trace of satisfaction etched across her features, a subtle acknowledgment of the profound and conflicting pleasures she had experienced. The sight of her, so utterly transformed and yet unmistakably content in her ruin, was both haunting and deeply stirring.

"Time to go," Manavi urged, her grip tightening ever so slightly on my arm. There was a finality in her voice that made it clear I had no choice. My legs finally moved, wooden and unsteady, as she led me toward the door.

The soft click of the door shutting behind me felt like the final nail in the coffin. The muffled sounds from the other side—Anand’s low voice, Ananya’s quiet murmurs—only deepened the ache in my chest. What were they talking about now. I wondered. Were they making fun of me ?  I slumped against the wall outside, my breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. Manavi lingered, leaning casually against the wall beside me, her smirk never wavering. "Don’t worry... I’ll make sure you don’t feel left out."

[Yagtamil]

Hot story....

Make him sissy

[Betacucky]

I have a fairly clear picture of where this story is headed. I'm not expecting it to be terribly long , but things are always subject to change. 

Reviews are humbly requested, as their presence is a source of great inspiration, encouragement and new ideas and their absence is very discouraging. I might not be able to incorporate every single suggestion into this story, but constructive criticism can help make this story better.

[Gopal Ratnam]

Superb humiliation. Mangalsutra is now removed from wife. Ketan can throw it in the dustbin. It does not make any sense for him/her.

[Givemeextra]

Superb humiliation. Mangalsutra is now removed from wife. Ketan can throw it in the dustbin. It does not make any sense for him/her.

Putting in dustbin is a one time insult.

This has to be continuous - continuously reminding him that he is a failed man [ex: he should be made to wear it post humiliations being complete]

[Bigil]

Awesome updates

Ketan lost his wife to Anand. Next Anand will make him as maid of the house and make him lick and clean the well fucked pussy of Ananya and then cool for the three and serve them. Wash their inners etc.

[Betacucky]

Chapter 5 



I stood still, barely breathing in the thick air. My thoughts spun wildly, trying to understand how everything had fallen apart so quickly. But all I felt was a mix of shame, anger, and a strange relief that I was out of that room.

Manavi stayed by the door, leaning casually against the wall. Her eyes on me were hard to read—maybe she was amused, or maybe she didn’t care at all. Then, she pushed away from the wall and walked towards me, taking slow, measured steps.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," she whispered, her voice tinged with a mocking note. Her fingers lightly touched my arm, making me jerk away slightly. "Come on, Ketan. Let's get you out of here. It's no use just standing around."

She led me firmly but gently toward the guest room. My legs felt heavy, each step a struggle under the weight of what had happened. The faint sounds of Ananya's moans followed us, echoing down the hall, a harsh reminder of what I was leaving behind.
Manavi opened the door to the guest room, her fingers brushing against my arm a moment longer before she let go. The room was dimly lit, offering little solace. The distant noises of Ananya's continued encounters were faint but piercing. It was unbelievable—Anand was ready to go again.

Manavi stopped at the doorway, her smile not as sharp as usual. "You're kind of lucky," she whispered, her voice low and playful. "Most men don't get to see the truth like you did tonight. Anand is good at showing people's true colors."

Her words hurt, poking at what was left of my self-respect. I sat down heavily on the bed, feeling the sounds of Ananya’s moans coming through the walls.

I realised there was something wet and heavy in my hands. I looked down. It was our Mangalsutra. My eyes filled with tears as I kept silently  it on the side table. 
Instead of leaving, Manavi shut the door quietly and sat next to me. She was too close for comfort. "She loves you, you know," she said, her voice gentler. "She just needed more, something you couldn’t give her."

My gaze locked with hers, filled with confusion and pain. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice a soft murmur.

"People change, Ketan. Maybe this was always going to happen. You and Ananya... perhaps she needed to find out what she was missing, and recognize your true feelings" Manavi said calmly.

As she spoke, her hand rested lightly on my thigh, slowly inching towards my lulli. Her touch was subtle but disturbing as she whispered close to my ear.

Puzzled, I asked, "Recognize what?"

"That you're a cuckold," she replied bluntly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Did you think this was just happening by chance?"

At her words, my tiny lulli twitched and stood at full attention. Manavi noticed and gave me a sympathetic smile.

Her grip tightened subtly around my lulli, her words gentle yet firm. "Let go, Ketan," she whispered, coaxing out my reluctant arousal. "This might be what you both need."
Torn between my self-loathing and the strange, guilty arousal her touch evoked, I felt a deep internal conflict. Her words, her actions, they peeled back layers of denial I had clung to.

"Exploring this might free you from the guilt," Manavi suggested quietly, her fingers tracing small circles on my skin, encouraging a forbidden excitement. "Maybe it’s time to see this part of yourself clearly."

Her continued touch, combined with her piercing words, left me in a turmoil of emotion—confusion, curiosity, and an unsettling sense of acceptance of my new, unwanted reality.

"Have you ever thought about how all this began?" Manavi asked, her voice casual but probing. I didn't answer, just stared at the floor while her words seemed to hang in the air.

"Anand is quite observant," she continued, leaning in closer now, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Remember that night at the bar? When you both ended up at the urinals together?"

I looked up sharply, my heart racing. That fleeting moment—my glance, my tipsy confession—it suddenly all came flooding back.

While we talked, Manavi got up and walked to a small table in the corner. She poured water from a jug into a glass. "You look thirsty," she said nonchalantly. I didn't notice her drop a small pill into the glass. It dissolved quickly, leaving no trace.
She handed me the glass. "Here, drink this. It'll help you relax," she said with a reassuring smile. I took the glass, my hands slightly shaking, and drank down the water, unaware of the pill she had added.

Manavi observed me as I drank, her gaze intense. She sat back down beside me, ready to continue our conversation. She had a plan, and I was unknowingly a part of it.


Manavi's laugh was low and knowing. "Oh, Ketan, you make it so clear. Just one look at your... lulli," she said, using the word mockingly, "and Anand knew everything he needed to plan this whole scenario."

"What do you mean?" My voice was shaky.

She gave a cunning smile. "He saw an opportunity at that moment and knew exactly how to use it. That quick glance, your drunk slip-up—it set his plans in motion."
The room felt like it was swirling around me as I tried to take in her words. Anand had been orchestrating it from the start.

"Why would he do that?" I stammered.

"Why? Because he can. He’s an alpha," Manavi interrupted, her tone sharp. "You gave him everything he needed—your doubts, your fears, even your wife. It wasn't just opening a door for him; you invited him in."

"Her words were sharp, cutting deeper than any physical pain. It wasn't just about Ananya, but also about me—my failures, my exposed weaknesses. They had used these against me.

Manavi leaned closer, her tone almost casual, as if discussing someone’s hobbies. "You know, Ketan, Anand isn’t just some guy who lucked into this. He’s been like this for years. He’s... relentless in bed. His stamina is unmatched, and I’ve seen it time and again. Even I struggle to keep up with him sometimes. He’s not like regular men—he doesn’t just stop after one round. He goes on and on, like it’s natural for him."

She paused for a moment, studying my reaction before continuing. "And this isn’t new, Ketan. He’s... helped other couples too. Remember Rahul and Priya? Or Neeraj and Simran? They’re not the same after him. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s not about him stealing anyone or breaking relationships—it’s about awakening something in people. That’s just his way. He sees desires people won’t admit to themselves, and he gives them what they didn’t even know they needed.

Manavi smirked, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "And it’s not just the wives. When Anand gets tired of the women, he has no problem turning his attention to the husbands. He doesn’t see limits, Ketan. He sees opportunities. Rahul never admitted it outright, but I know Anand had his fun with him too. And Neeraj? He told me once that Anand made him feel things he didn’t think were possible. 


I shook my head, unwilling to accept it. “That can't be true.”
“But it is,” she insisted, her voice gentle yet firm. “You’ve been ignoring this part of yourself for too long, you are a cuckold Ketan and  Anand saw it clearly. And honestly, so did Ananya.”

“Just look at your tiny lulli and how it has been up all night.” 

“What did you tell her?” My voice trembled. “What did you say to make her agree to this... to wear that?”

Manavi relaxed back, her attitude casual as if we were discussing something trivial. “Ananya just needed a little encouragement. She's from a conservative background, always following the rules. Yet deep down, she’s always been curious, wondering what it's like to truly let go.”

“And the lingerie?” I pressed, my voice tight.

Her smirk returned, now colder. “I suggested she wear it if she wanted to understand what was going on and if she wanted to save your relationship. I wasn't sure she would, if she would be that gullible,  but it turns out you both are a bit too submissive for your own good. Plus, living here and hearing my nightly activities—" she paused, her eyes narrowing, "it sparked something in her, a desire to feel that too.”

"Her words hit me hard. “You manipulated her,” I shot back, my anger rising. “No, Ketan. I just helped her see the truth,” Manavi replied calmly. “She wanted this. She’s been wanting more for a long time. She just needed someone to show her it was okay.” As we talked, the faint but clear sounds of Ananya’s moans from the next room got louder, reminding me painfully of the situation. “Hear that, Ketan?” Manavi whispered, leaning in closer while her hand moved towards my thigh. “That’s your wife, finally getting what she’s been missing. Anand knows exactly how to satisfy her, better than you ever imagined.”

The combination of her words and the soft touch of her hand was unexpectedly overwhelming. Her descriptions were vivid, detailing how Anand was taking Ananya to heights of pleasure I had never reached with her. The sounds of Ananya's screams, now more distinct, echoed through my mind, intermingling with the images Manavi painted with her words.

Caught in a storm of humiliation and strange arousal, my body responded before my mind could catch up. I could only grab a tissue from the side of the bed just in time. A deep, guttural groan escaped me as I felt a sudden, intense release. It washed over me uncontrollably, an embarrassing yet oddly freeing rush. I had been holding it on all night not wanting to jerk off at the sight of Anand taking my wife.

 I trembled, shaken by the intensity of the moment, the sound of Ananya's ecstasy mingling with the thuds of the bed driving me over the edge. The room spun slightly as I grappled with the reality of my helplessness, the physical evidence of my reaction a stark testament to the words Manavi had whispered so cruelly.

After the unexpected release, the room settled into an uneasy silence. Manavi's expression softened for a moment as she observed my struggle with the tumult of emotions. She stood up slowly and suggested it was time to try and get some rest.
"Let's try and get some sleep," she said in a gentle tone, moving to close the door with care and dimming the main lights, leaving only a soft lamp glowing, casting long shadows across the room.

I lay back on the bed, feeling the cool sheets against my overheated skin. Manavi didn’t leave the room; instead, she slipped into the bed beside me, her presence a silent guard in the dimly lit space. She lay quietly, giving me room, yet her proximity was a palpable presence.

Sleep was elusive. Each time I drifted off, the faint sounds from the adjoining room—thuds and moans—jerked me back to wakefulness, a harsh reminder of Anand and Ananya. My mind replayed the earlier conversation with Manavi, intertwining her vivid descriptions with the distant echoes of the adjoining room.

Then, at 4 AM, I felt someone shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes and saw Ananya standing there.  Manavi was already up, watching us.

As I slowly woke up, I saw Ananya standing next to the bed. She was completely naked, and the soft light in the room showed every detail of her body. A sheen of sweat glimmered from her body. She looked like she had been fucked a lot. Her skin, usually so smooth and perfect, now had bite marks on her boobs and neck. Each mark was a clear sign of rough kisses and bites.

Seeing her like this made tears come to my eyes. It was hard to understand how everything had changed so fast. These marks on her body were proof of her time with Anand, and they told a story of intense passion that I had never given her.
Her eyes met mine for a moment. They were full of something deep that I couldn't quite figure out—was it regret, confusion, or pure satisfaction ? It hurt too much to keep looking at her, so I had to look away. I wiped the tears from my eyes, feeling a cold, heavy reality settle in.

Ananya's voice was flat and emotionless as she spoke to me, her words hitting like cold facts. "Anand sent me here as a reward for you being a good cucky. He said you should reclaim your wife." Her tone was robotic, stripped of any feeling, making the words even harder to process.

She went and grabbed the mangalsutra from the side table. It had developed a crusty layer of white dried juices. Holding it in front of me looking expectantly. With shivering hands I tied the mangalsutra around her neck. It was only the second time I was doing this. The first one being at our wedding. 

She just stood in front of me. I stared at her, confused and unable to fully grasp the meaning of reclaiming my wife.. Then, without another word, Ananya turned away from me and got down on her hands and knees, positioning herself in the doggy style posture right in front of me. The sight was both shocking and arousing in a way I couldn’t understand. My body responded with a small, unexpected erection, though my mind was far from comprehending how or why I was reacting.

Beside me, Manavi watched with an unreadable expression. She leaned over and whispered encouragingly, "Go on, Ketan. This is what he wants, and it’s your chance." Her words nudged me forward, though part of me still hesitated, confused by the mix of emotions and the physical response I couldn't explain.

I didn't know why I was getting erect again—unaware that the viagra Manavi had secretly mixed into my water was kicking in, fueling a physical need that felt alien given the night’s events.

As I moved closer to Ananya, my heart pounded wildly. She stayed perfectly still, waiting, her posture submissive yet distant. Her pussy looked swollen and used, with traces of cum still leaking from it. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of our breathing.

Taking a deep breath, I reached out tentatively, my hands shaking as I touched her butt. It felt warm and real, so different from the cold, hard facts of her words. Her body under my hands brought back a rush of intimacy we once shared, now tainted by the night's harsh realities.


As I pushed into Ananya, a wave of disgust washed over me when I realized the wetness wasn't from her arousal but from the cum that was still leaking out of her. The slick, messy evidence of Anand's presence made each shallow thrust a grim reminder of the night's events. There was no usual tightness; instead, my tiny lulli slid in with hardly any resistance, as if nothing was there to meet it. Underneath me, Ananya remained completely still, her lack of movement making it seem like she couldn’t even feel me inside her. This felt wrong and deeply unsettling.

Memories of how it used to be between us flashed through my mind. I remembered the way her body would clench around me, pulling me deeper, our moans mingling in the heat of our love. 

Now, the contrast couldn't be starker. Moving inside her now felt empty, almost mechanical. There was no response from her, no warmth or closeness we once shared. It was as if the physical connection we once cherished had vanished, leaving behind a void that echoed with the emptiness of our current reality.

Each motion was a reminder of how much had changed. I was trying to find something that seemed lost, reaching out for the closeness we once had, but all I encountered was the chilling absence of the intimacy we used to know.


I continued for a while, my disgust growing with every motion, but the feeling of disconnect was too overwhelming. Eventually, I couldn't bear it any longer and climbed off the bed. Ananya got up mechanically, her voice empty as she echoed Anand's words: "Thank you for being such a good cucky."

She started to walk towards the door, and in a desperate attempt to hold onto something, anything, I asked, "Where are you going?"
Ananya paused at the doorway, her back still turned to me. "I'm going to sleep in Anand's bedroom," she stated plainly, her tone devoid of any emotion.

A sharp pain hit my chest as her words sank in. I watched her walk away, each step she took toward Anand's room deepening the divide between us. Left alone in the silent darkness, I lay back down, tears streaming down my face as the muffled sounds of Anand and Ananya continued from the other room. 

The reality of my new place in their lives, merely a spectator to their intimacy, settled around me like a cold blanket.

Manavi shifted beside me, her presence a reminder of how far things had spiraled. She lay with one hand dbangd lightly across my chest, her fingers brushing against my skin. Her legs rested casually across my thighs, pinning me in place as though to ensure I didn’t escape the torment of the night. The intimacy of her touch, so casual yet deliberate, felt alien in this moment of utter despair, as though even my grief was something to be controlled.

As the night stretched on, the noises from Anand's room were a constant reminder of my loss. I cried until exhaustion took over, but even then, sleep was fitful. I drifted in and out, haunted by the sounds, Manavi’s touch, and the harsh truth of my new reality

[Betacucky]

Hot story....

Make him sissy

All in good time !

[Gilmalover]

This husband did not have any self esteem. Any one of this position, if a real unwilling cuckold would have committed suicide by now. So though he pretends not a cuckold, he is a willing cuckold. Shameless bastard. Anand will spill more cum on the mangalsutra and break it into pieces now. Why manavi is sleeping with this wimp. Is it to ensure he is not hanging himself. ha ha . Good updates.