Adultery The Rural Posting: Shipra's ordeal.

[Karmara]

Updates please

[Suraj76626]

When will the wait end.. two days hv already passed..

Working on last few pages my friend will complete it by tomorrow and post it by Thursday. Thank you for all your patience.

[xboard1986]

Waiting for shipra's fuck fest

[damien123456]

Just a reminder to you, my friend: please include the full update and do not split it into two chapters, or combine all chapters together, as there has been no update two weeks.

[Victorjohnson]

Any update today?

[Suraj76626]

Chapter 30: An Illusion of Escape: Part 2

"It's frustrating, isn't it Patode?" Namrata said softly, her voice carrying a mix of frustration and resignation. She sat on the edge of the bed, gracefully slipping out of her jeans, peeling the fabric off her long, slender legs with effortless ease.

"You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped," she continued, tossing the jeans aside and running a hand through her tousled hair. "If she chooses to stay with a loser like Alok, constantly being treated like she’s nothing more than an afterthought, that’s on her. I’ve exhausted myself trying to make her understand that there’s nothing wrong with chasing your own desires, your own happiness."

Namrata’s eyes met Patode’s, sharp and unwavering. "Alok doesn’t care about her or his son. For him his aspirations are more important than his family. He doesn’t see her as a woman with her own wants, her own wishes. To him, she’s just a convenience—a stepping stone for his success, someone to burden with all his responsibilities as a man. And yet, after everything you’ve done for her… she's still so unsure."

Patode remained silent, his jaw clenched, eyes clouded with disappointment.

"All we ever tried to do was help her,"  Namrata added, her tone softening. "These six months—this escape—was supposed to be her chance to break free from the suffocating routine, to rediscover herself beyond the labels of a wife, a daughter-in-law, and a mother. It was never about cheating or infidelity just to pacify lust; it was about healing, about indulging in what she’d been denying herself for so long."

She paused, her fingers tracing the edge of the bedsheet absentmindedly. "It could’ve helped her marriage, you know. Given her a way to vent out all her frustration, and find the peace of mind she needed. But… if she still can’t see the difference between a life lived and a life endured, then maybe she was never ready for it."

Namrata’s words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the silence that followed—an acknowledgment of both their efforts and the inevitability of choices that weren’t theirs to make.

"You're right, Namrata," Patode finally spoke, his voice laced with frustration and irritation. He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched tightly. "But I just can't stand to see a fine woman like her—so full of life, intelligence, and beautiful—waste herself trying to be a pawn to a pathetic man like Alok." 

His eyes darkened, the anger bleeding into something rawer, something almost vulnerable. "She deserves so much more than that selfish fool. She’s brilliant, strong, and passionate… there’s a fire in her, Namrata. I’ve seen it, felt it. And I know I can ignite it fully, burn away all that doubt if only she’d surrender—if only she’d let me."

The words hung heavy, thick with unspoken desires and expectations unmet. His frustration wasn’t just with Shipra’s hesitation; it was with the resistance she still showed, the resilience that refused to be tamed even after everything. He had expected her to be his wanton slut by now—to crumble beneath the weight of his dominance, to submit with the eager desperation he’d meticulously cultivated. But instead, she resisted. Even after yesterday—after the carefully calculated display of control, after the heat and the hunger—there was still a flicker of doubt in her eyes.

And it infuriated him.

Because deep down, he didn’t just want her obedience. He wanted her to choose him, to crave the surrender he offered, to abandon the illusion of control she clung to so tightly. But she hadn’t. Not yet.

And that gnawed at him more than he cared to admit.

Namrata leaned back on her hands, exhaling deeply, understanding the weight behind his words but not his true intentions. "You’ve been the better man in every possible way, Patode. You have done more than enough for her. You’ve supported her since the day she arrived here—whether professionally, emotionally and sexually in which her husband has constantly failed her. You even saved her modesty, behind which she is currently trying to hide her true slutty self. You gave her the freedom she craved, the passion she thought she’d lost. You showed her what it feels like to be wanted, to be seen, to be truly alive. And still, if she can’t recognize that, it’s her loss—not yours."

Patode sighed heavily, his mind racing with thoughts of how to shift the tides in his favor, worried that Shipra might return to her old life once she spends a few days with Alok and her son.

Unbeknownst to them, Shipra stood quietly just outside the door, her phone clutched tightly in one hand and her mangalsutra in the other. The weight of their words pressed against her heart, stirring a whirlwind of emotions. She had been on the verge of leaving, torn between the woman she had become over the past few weeks and the wife she had always been. The pull of her responsibilities battled fiercely with the desires she had tried to suppress, leaving her stranded between two worlds—unsure of which one truly belonged to her. 

Namrata rose from the bed; her movements deliberate and confident. “Forget her,” she said, her tone firm yet laced with an undercurrent of desire. With a swift, fluid motion, she pulled her top over her head, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. Standing in the center of the room clad only in her pink bra and panties, she exuded an air of bold sensuality.

She tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a seductive smile as her eyes locked onto Patode’s. “Forget that thankless bitch,” she repeated, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Let me take care of you.” Each word was deliberate, dripping with promise. She took slow, deliberate steps toward him, her hips swaying gently with each movement, the confidence in her stride unmistakable.

As she closed the distance between them, her hands reached out, her fingers deftly working to unbuckle Patode’s belt. Her touch was deliberate, teasing, as she unzipped his trousers, letting them slide down his legs. Her eyes never left his, holding his gaze with an intensity that was both commanding and inviting. “Let me pleasure you,” she murmured, her voice low and husky, “like a man like you truly deserve.”

Shipra stood frozen, her back pressed lightly against the cold wall just outside the door. A strange, suffocating mix of guilt and jealousy washed over her in relentless waves, leaving her breathless. She couldn’t quite name the emotion clawing at her chest, but it was sharp and persistent, refusing to be ignored. Somewhere along the blurred lines of professional courtesy and fleeting personal moments, she had developed a soft corner for Patode. It wasn’t love—no, it wasn’t that. Love was something sacred, something reserved for the man she had married. But what she felt for Patode was different. It was a complicated tangle of gratitude, affection, and an unsettling warmth she hadn’t felt in years.

Patode had been there in ways Alok never was—offering support without judgment, attention without indifference. It was because of Patode’s quiet intervention that she’d been granted leave to see her son today. A simple act, really, yet it carried more weight than it should have, precisely because it came from someone who didn’t have to care. And that care had nestled itself somewhere deep inside her, growing roots she didn’t know how to pull out.

She felt indebted to him, an obligation that went beyond polite words. Thank you seemed too small, too hollow to match the gratitude swelling inside her. There was an urge—a reckless, irrational urge—to give him something more, something that crossed the boundaries she’d spent years carefully maintaining. But every time she found herself standing at that invisible threshold, her feet refused to move forward. Guilt was the wall, and her own moral compass was the gatekeeper, refusing to let her forget who she was supposed to be.

As she stood there, lost in the swirl of conflicting emotions, she realized the hardest battle wasn’t between right and wrong. It was between the woman she had become—lonely, unfulfilled, quietly yearning—and the wife she was expected to be: dutiful, loyal, unwavering.

Just as Shipra stood there, teetering on the edge of decisions she wasn’t ready to make, her phone pinged again—a sharp, jarring sound that snapped her from the whirlpool of emotions swirling inside her.

Great. I won't have to skip the coaching.
Just make sure to be here before 10 in the morning.
Aarav is feeling fine for now but it will be better if you are present with him for a few days.

It was another text from Alok. And yet again his words were brief, clinical, stripped of any tenderness or affection. His message wasn’t filled with relief that she, his wife, was coming home. It was simply an acknowledgment of convenience—that Aarav’s mother would be there to shoulder the responsibilities. Not his partner. Not Shipra, the woman beyond the role.

It was the final push Shipra didn’t know she needed—the subtle, indifferent sting of Alok’s message slicing through the fragile threads holding her together. As a mother, she felt an undeniable wave of relief knowing Aarav was doing fine. That part of her heart remained untouched, pure, rooted in something sacred that no amount of neglect could tarnish. But as a wife, the words hit differently—sharp, cold, and unforgiving. They irked her beyond measure, not because they were cruel, but because they were casual. Detached. The kind of words you send to a colleague, not to the person you once claimed to love.

There she was, grappling every day with emotions she didn’t know how to name—trying to maintain her sanity amidst the chaos, to preserve the modesty she’d been conditioned to hold sacred. And the one person who was supposed to ground her—her husband, the man whose presence should have been her anchor—was the very reason she was drifting. His indifference didn’t just hurt—it unraveled her. It made her question the years she’d spent believing that patience was a virtue, that sacrifice was love, and that enduring was the same as living.

And in that fragile moment, standing alone with nothing but the cold glow of her phone and the hollow echo of Alok’s words, Shipra felt drawn towards the escape Patode offered. Her heart, once anchored by guilt and obligation, now beat with a strange, unfamiliar rhythm—a reckless pulse that whispered of liberation. It wasn’t love that pulled her; it wasn’t even lust. It was the intoxicating allure of escape. The raw, untamed promise of feeling something—anything—beyond the dull ache of neglect.

Maybe she wasn’t losing herself after all.

Maybe she was finally finding what she truly deserved—something beyond mere existence, beyond being seen as just a wife or as a mother.

Her feet, no longer bound by the chains of guilt, moved on their own. Slow at first, hesitant, as if testing the weightlessness of her newfound freedom. Then faster, driven by a force she could no longer suppress.

***********************************************

"Ma'am, is this seat empty?" Chetan enquired politely, sliding his phone away from his ear as he navigated through the narrow aisle of the crowded bus. His backpack brushed against the seats as he carefully made his way to the back, his eyes scanning for an empty spot amidst the sea of weary travellers.

The woman seated by the window glanced up, her face framed by dark hair that was nearly tied into a ponytail, a few loose strands escaping to brush against her cheek. She shifted slightly, removing her handbag from the aisle seat, and gave a brief nod in affirmation.

"Thanks," Chetan responded with a courteous smile, settling into the aisle seat beside her. Without missing a beat, he brought the phone back to his ear. "Yes, Vaibhav bro, what were you saying?"

"Dude, I thought you'd leave on Sunday. Everything all right?" Vaibhav's familiar voice crackled through the line, tinged with concern.

"All good, bro. That was the original plan, but something came up at home," Chetan replied, glancing out of the dusty window as the bus rumbled to life. The city was slowly fading behind them, replaced by stretches of open roads and scattered trees. "Actually, I got a work opportunity back home, so I had to head back urgently."

"Oh, that's great!" Vaibhav responded, his tone lightening.

"Yeah, it's a bit sudden, but I’ll manage. I’ll inform you whenever I’m back in Pune for sure. Thanks for all your help, buddy," Chetan added sincerely.

"Don’t mention it. Have a safe journey!" Vaibhav disconnected the call, leaving Chetan with a momentary silence, filled only by the hum of the engine and the occasional creak of the bus.

Turning slightly toward his seatmate, Chetan decided to break the monotony. "Where are you heading, ma'am?" he asked, his tone casual and friendly.

"Ambruj," she replied, offering a polite yet distant smile before turning her gaze back to her phone. Her posture was composed, her demeanour exuding an air of professionalism that made her seem slightly out of place among the rustic charm of the intercity bus crowd.

"Me too!" Chetan responded, his voice laced with a hint of excitement at the coincidence. "You don’t seem to be from Ambruj. Are you visiting some relatives?" His curiosity got the better of him, his words tumbling out before he could reconsider.

"No, it’s work-related," she replied curtly, her voice firm, the conversation neatly clipped at the edges. She didn’t even look up this time, her attention fully reclaimed by the glowing screen in her hand.

Chetan picked up on her subtle cues—the measured tone, the minimal responses, the deliberate focus on her phone. She wasn’t interested in small talk, and he knew better than to push. He leaned back into his seat, letting the silence settle between them like an invisible curtain.

But despite the unspoken boundary, he found his gaze drifting toward her occasionally. There was something intriguing about her—perhaps it was the contrast she presented, dressed in a crisp Kurti paired with jeans, a combination that subtly blended traditional elegance with modern practicality amidst travellers clad in casual, travel-worn clothes. Or maybe it was the quiet confidence she carried, a kind of self-assuredness that piqued his curiosity.

Chetan found his gaze drifting toward her again, his curiosity getting the better of him. There was an effortless grace in the way she sat, scrolling through her phone with focused precision. But just as he lingered a moment longer, their eyes met—she had turned her head unexpectedly, catching him red-handed. His heart skipped a beat, and he quickly averted his gaze, pretending to be engrossed in the chipped armrest of the seat, his fingers awkwardly fidgeting with the strap of his backpack.

To his surprise, she didn’t seem fazed by it. Instead, she broke the silence.

"Do you belong to Ambruj?" she asked, her voice calm, devoid of any indication that she’d noticed his awkwardness.

Chetan straightened up, a little flustered but relieved to be pulled into the conversation. "Yes… yes, it’s my hometown," he fumbled slightly, then cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "Why do you ask? If I may ask," he added, attempting to sound casual.

"Are there any hotels there?" she enquired, her tone professional and to the point, as if she was ticking off a mental checklist.

"Well, there are," Chetan replied, eager now to engage. "But they’re not like the ones in Pune. It’s not a very commercial district, so you might not find something as fancy as you'd expect." He leaned slightly forward, his confidence returning with the flow of conversation. "But lucky for you, my family is in the event management business, so I can recommend the best hotel there. And hey, if you mention my name, you might even get a discount." He flashed a modest grin, hoping to impress her with the subtle flex.

"Thank you, that would be quite helpful," she replied with a polite nod and a faint smile, enough to send a small jolt of satisfaction through him. "I’m Shrutika Arora," she added, introducing herself formally.

"Myself Chetan—nice to meet you," he responded warmly, slightly regretting the overly formal "myself" but brushing past it quickly. "So, what brings you to a quiet district like Ambruj? If you don’t mind me asking," he continued, genuinely curious now.

Shrutika opened her mouth to respond, but her phone buzzed sharply, cutting her off. "Excuse me," she said, her expression shifting as she glanced at the screen. Without waiting for a response, she answered the call, her tone transitioning into something more authoritative.

"Good evening," she greeted back to the person on the other side. "No need, Shinde. I’ve already arranged for a hotel. And there’s no need to inform the local officials either—I have some personal work to handle first," she continued crisply, her voice carrying a quiet authority that contrasted with her earlier polite demeanour. Chetan couldn’t help but listen, his curiosity deepening with every word.

"What about the file I requested? Is it ready?" she asked, her tone sharpening slightly. There was a pause as she listened intently, her brows narrowing in concentration.

"Okay, thanks, Shinde. I’ll check it right away," she replied before ending the call. Her face softened slightly as she turned back to Chetan.

"Sorry about that," she said with a polite smile, her earlier sternness fading into the background. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "If you don’t mind, could you hold this for me? I’ve got some official work to look into."

Before Chetan could even nod, she pulled her handbag onto her lap, rummaged through it, and took out a sleek tablet. She handed him the bag casually, as though they were old acquaintances, not strangers who’d met barely an hour ago.

"No problem. You go ahead," Chetan replied, taking the bag with both hands, his fingers brushing briefly against hers. It was a simple gesture, but it felt oddly significant in the quiet hum of the bus.

Shrutika didn’t seem to notice. She was already absorbed in her tablet, her fingers gliding across the screen with swift precision. Her face was lit softly by the glow of the screen, her brows furrowed slightly as she scrolled through documents.

Chetan leaned back into his seat, slipping his headphones on, but the music was just background noise now. His mind kept drifting back to the mysterious woman beside him—Shrutika Arora—whose sharp professionalism hinted at a story much deeper than casual small talk.

The bus rumbled on, the landscape outside blurring into streaks of green and brown, but inside, amidst the quiet rustle of pages, occasional phone beeps, and the soft hum of engines, an unspoken connection lingered in the shared silence.

***********************************************

The bedroom was soon filled with the sound of the cascade of water from the showerhead raining down on the glistening naked bodies of Namrata and Patode, steam swirling around them, blurring the boundaries between heat and desire. Namrata stood close, her fingers lazily stroking Patode's thick, hard shaft, her touch confident and possessive. Her dark hair clung to her damp skin, framing her face, where a wicked, sultry smile played at the corners of her lips. "It's good that Shipra decided not to join us" she whispered, her voice low and thick with heat, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Now I have you all to myself." She let her fingers trail slowly down his length, squeezing just enough to make him grunt softly in response.



Their naked bodies pressed closer under the warm spray, skin slick and sensitive to every touch. Namrata's breath grew heavier, mingling with the mist around them. She tilted her face up, her lips inches from his ear as she continued, her words dripping with raw hunger.

"I need a good, hard fuck before I leave tomorrow, Patode. Yesterday, that ungrateful bitch hogged all your attention." Her nails grazed the base of his shaft before gliding back up, a slow tease that sent a shiver through him. She licked her lips, her eyes dark with lust. "I'm going to miss this monstrous dick of yours."

Patode's lips curled into a cocky, knowing grin. Without a word, he gripped her hips, pulling her roughly against him, the hardness of his arousal pressed firmly into her belly. "I know you'd come running back to me, my little slut," he growled, his voice rough with desire.

Before she could fire back with another sharp, sultry retort, his mouth claimed hers in a fierce, hungry kiss. Their tongues collided with the same intensity that burned between their bodies, a clash of dominance and desperation. His hands roamed her slick curves, gripping her ass, kneading it as he pushed her back against the cool, tiled wall.

Namrata moaned into his mouth, arching into him, her legs wrapping around his waist, eager, needy. The contrast of the cool wall against her heated skin only amplified her desire. His cock throbbed against her entrance, and she ground her hips shamelessly, desperate for more.

Just as Patode was about to push his thick meat into Namrata's eager, waiting cunt, the bathroom door creaked open with a sharp, unexpected sound, cutting through the steady rush of the shower drawing their attention behind them.

There, standing in the doorway, was Shipra-completely nude. The soft glow of the bathroom light highlighted every curve of her body. The only things adorning her milky white, porcelain-skinned, supple and sexy body were small, delicate earrings, a few thin bangles that clinked softly as she moved, and silver anklets that shimmered with every step.



“I’ve made my choice, Patode,” Shipra said, her voice low but steady, carrying a weight of finality mixed with raw desire. There was no hesitation in her steps as she entered the bathroom. Her eyes, dark and filled with something wild and untamed, were locked onto his.

Her mangalsutra, the symbol of her commitments and the life she was supposed to uphold, had been left behind-carelessly tossed onto the bed amidst her discarded clothes, along with whatever guilt she might have carried.

Namrata didn’t move. Her hand stayed on Patode’s chest, her fingers idly tracing the contours of his muscles, though the playful ease in her touch had faded. A slight frown crept onto her face as her surprise quickly shifted to irritation. She glanced from Shipra back to Patode, her eyes narrowing slightly, reading the unspoken tension between them as clearly as if it had been spelled out.

Patode turned toward Shipra, his expression unreadable, the usual spark of arrogance in his eyes dulled by something more indifferent. He set Namrata down gently, the heat of her touch still lingering on his skin, and faced Shipra fully.

“And what would that be, Shipra?” he asked, his tone flat, almost bored, as if her declaration was just another fleeting moment in a string of many.

Shipra stepped closer, her anklets chiming softly against the steady rush of water. She stood tall, her bare body glistening with a light sheen of moisture, but it was the fierce determination in her eyes that stood out the most.

“The choice of being here. With you, Patode,” she replied firmly. “I’m done pretending. I don’t care about anything else right now—only this. I want to be… just myself.”

Her words hung in the air, mingling with the warmth of the steam and the lingering scent of desire. But before Patode could respond, Namrata’s voice sliced through the tension, sharp and unapologetic.

"You had your chance, Shipra,” Namrata continued, her hand sliding down Patode’s side, fingers wrapping possessively around his still-hard cock. Her grip tightened slightly, a silent claim in the gesture. “But you chose to act all high and mighty. Now, go back to that controlling husband of yours and pretend everything to be okay in your life. I don’t plan to share tonight.”

Her frustration, simmering since the evening, boiled over in her words, each one laced with bitterness and scorn. She wasn’t done. Not yet. Her hand tightened around Patode’s length, her anger feeding the raw edge in her voice.

“You’re such an ungrateful bitch, Shipra—a complete hypocrite. After behaving like a desperate slut all night yesterday—and even this morning—you showed up here again asking Patode for another favour. And then, when it was time to show even a shred of gratitude, you pull back, pretending you’re above all this. As if playing the part of the guilt-stricken, hesitant woman will somehow erase what you did.”

Namrata leaned in slightly, her gaze piercing, voice dropping to a harsh whisper filled with scorn, “But you know what, Shipra? You’re not fooling anyone here,” she hissed, her eyes narrowing with contempt. “Deep down, you loved every second of it, didn’t you? The thrill of forbidden adulterous pleasure, the rush of crossing that line you swore you’d never touch. Every wild, unrestrained thrust of Patode’s cock driving into you, pulling out parts of you that you’ve kept buried under all that pretense. Every reckless moment when you weren’t shackled by the perfect little facade you wear for that pathetic excuse of a husband.”

Shipra stood frozen in place slightly taken aback by Namrata's rant but her eyes betrayed a flicker of emotion—guilt, maybe, or embarrassment. 

Namrata pressed on, relentless, “That’s why you came crawling back,” she spat, her gaze never wavering from Shipra’s face. "The way Patode fucked your brains out last night—relentless, unapologetic—ruined you for anything else. You thought you could just taste that kind of freedom and walk away? You thought you could go back to Alok, play the perfect little wife, and pretend that it was just a mistake?” Namrata let out a soft, bitter laugh, her voice dripping with mockery.

“He made you feel things you’d forgotten you could feel. The way he had you—moaning, begging, completely lost in it—wasn’t just about the pleasure. It was the way it made you feel alive again, wasn’t it? Like you’d been sleepwalking through your life until he woke you up. You knew, right then and there, that Alok never was and would never be enough."

Namrata continued, her voice dropping to a taunting whisper. “You couldn't control the temptation, Shipra. Your slutty little cunt is aching again, isn’t it? Twitching with need. You want to feel that reckless, shameless ecstasy again, don’t you? You want Patode to ruin you all over again.”

She stepped forward, closing the gap between them, her eyes burning with a mix of anger and satisfaction.
“But not tonight,” Namrata hissed. “Not unless you redeem yourself for being such an ungrateful, lying little bitch to a wonderful man.”

The bathroom fell into a tense silence, the only sounds the steady patter of water and the faint, rapid beats of hearts racing beneath the surface of all that unspoken tension.

"I agree,” Patode finally broke the tense silence, his voice calm yet edged with irritation. His sharp gaze settled on Shipra, his expression unreadable, but there was no warmth in his tone—only finality.

“I’ve had enough of your drama, Shipra. All I’ve ever done is try to help you. I never asked you to leave that pathetic excuse of a man. I never asked you to hate him. In fact, I even went out of my way to get your leave approved so you could spend time with your family. And what do I get in return?” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Your endless doubts. Your whining. Your pathetic back-and-forth as if I’m the one causing you all this trouble.”

He took a step closer, his presence commanding, his voice unwavering as he continued.

“And now, you are here again, standing in front of me, claiming you’ve made your choice. But we both know how this ends, don’t we?” His eyes bore into hers, challenging, almost daring her to deny it. “You’ll stay for a while, let yourself get lost in the pleasure, in the freedom. And then, as you spend some time with that wimp, you'll yet again drown in guilt, convincing yourself this was all some terrible mistake.”

He paused, letting his words sink in, letting Shipra feel the weight of her own cycle of indecision. Then, his voice dropped lower, a dangerous edge creeping into it.

“So, as Namrata said, if you really want this—if you want to experience the kind of pleasure that awakened your inner slut last night, the kind that left you breathless and free—then stay. Accept whatever punishment I deem fit for being an ungrateful little bitch who can’t make up her mind.” His lips curled into a smirk, the arrogance in his tone unmistakable. “Or walk away now, and we end this. For good. No more second chances. No more crawling back.”

“I understand your frustration, Patode,” Shipra began, her voice measured yet tinged with emotion. “It might seem like I’m using you, like I’m playing with your emotions—but you have to understand how difficult this is for me. As a married woman, to—”

SMACK

The sharp crack of a slap echoed through the bathroom, cutting Shipra off mid-sentence. Her head snapped to the side, her cheek instantly stinging from the force of the blow. She stood frozen for a moment, her breath hitching in shock.

Namrata lowered her hand, her lips curling into a smirk—equal parts irritation and amusement. She let out an exasperated sigh before tilting her head, her voice dripping with condescension.

“Oh, cut the bullshit, Shipra,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Wake up, already. No one here is judging your morals—because none of us give a damn about them. And as for your precious modesty as a married woman? It would’ve been ripped apart by those thugs, your MMS making the rounds for men to get off to—if not for Patode. So do us all a favor and drop the lecture."

She took a step forward, closing the distance between them, her presence looming, her tone razor-sharp. “We are all consenting adults here, indulging in a little no-strings-attached fun. That’s all this is. That’s all it has ever been, and that’s all it will ever be.” She let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking her head. “You act as if we’re trying to corrupt you as if we’re the villains in your little morality play. But the truth? We’re offering you something real—an escape. A release. A way to finally purge all that resentment, all that frustration you’ve been bottling up inside. Your precious marriage, the one you clutch onto like a lifeline, isn’t giving you what you need. It’s holding you back, suffocating you. You know it. We know it.”

She leaned in, her gaze unrelenting, stripping away every excuse Shipra had left. “No one here is asking you to break your marriage, Shipra. If anything, we’re giving you a way to survive it. To detox from all the negativity, you keep drowning in. To feel alive again, instead of burying your emotions and pretending they don’t exist. You can keep telling yourself that you’re different, that you don’t belong here, that this isn’t who you are. But if that were true, you wouldn’t still be standing here, torn between guilt and temptation. The act is getting old.”

A slow smirk curled at her lips, dark amusement flickering in her eyes. “So if you’ve made your choice, then stop with the fucking whining and show us your commitment.”

Namrata’s irritation was palpable now, her voice thick with disdain. “Your never-ending drama is proving to be a big turn-off. So stop wasting our time. Either stay, accept your own desires, and take the mind-blowing fucking you are here for, or walk out that door and let me enjoy myself at least.”

The finality in her words lingered in the heavy, steamy air. Shipra remained motionless, her cheek burning, her pulse racing—not just from the sting of the slap, but from the choice laid out before her.

“That should knock some sense into her,” Patode chuckled, amusement lacing his voice as he stepped behind Namrata, pulling her back against him. His grip was firm yet possessive, his body pressing into hers, the heat between them unmistakable.

“Don’t let your friend spoil our mood,” he murmured against her ear, his voice a husky whisper. His hands slid down her hips, fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles before traveling up to claim her breasts. He cupped them with a firm grip, kneading their fullness with an almost lazy confidence, as if he had all the time in the world to explore her.



Namrata let out a soft gasp, her head tilting instinctively to the side as Patode’s lips found her neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. The contrast of his rough hands and the teasing graze of his tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, making her body arch into his touch.
 
Her breath hitched as her own desires took over. One of her hands slipped behind her, fingers curling around Patode’s thick shaft, stroking him with eager, practiced movements, feeling him twitch under her touch while the other hand slid down between her legs, her fingers seeking out the growing ache in her soaked folds, pressing and circling in a rhythm that matched the heat building between them.



They didn’t break eye contact with Shipra. She stood motionless, her chest rising and falling unevenly, her wide eyes locked onto them. Though she remained rooted in place, her body betrayed her—her lips parted ever so slightly, her breath shallow, the unmistakable flush of arousal creeping up her skin.

She wanted to move, to say something, to break the moment—but she couldn’t. She could only watch, helpless against the desire pooling low in her belly, torn between hesitation and the undeniable pull of temptation.

“Get on your knees, Shipra,” Patode’s voice rang out, deep and commanding, reverberating through the bathroom. The sheer authority in his tone sent a shiver racing down Shipra’s spine. Her submissive side—so carefully restrained, so often ignored—stirred to life, eager to yield, desperate to obey. 

Patode's hand slipped between Namrata’s thighs, fingers brushing teasingly against her slick heat before tapping her inner thigh—a silent signal. Namrata, instantly understanding where this was headed, parted her legs wider without question, a wicked smile curving on her lips.

Patode’s gaze flicked back to Shipra, his eyes sharp and unwavering. “Crawl over here like an obedient little  bitch,” he ordered, his voice dropping to a growl. “and make yourself useful—get your friend ready for me.”
Shipra, already emotionally vulnerable, found the weight of submission settling over her like a second skin, familiar and intoxicating. Without a word, without resistance, she sank to her knees. Then, slowly, she lowered herself onto all fours and began to crawl.

Namrata let out a soft, amused chuckle as she watched Shipra approach, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Now, this is what you really are Shipra,” she purred, running a teasing hand down her own body. “A submissive little bitch in heat who gets turned on being treated like a slut.”

She spread herself wider, one hand slipping between her thighs, fingers gliding through her clean-shaven pussy. Slowly, deliberately, she parted her slick folds, exposing the glistening pink flesh and engorged clit beneath. Her breath hitched slightly at her own touch, but her smirk remained as she locked eyes with Shipra.
“Now, lick me,” Namrata taunted, her voice velvety smooth, dripping with authority. “And watch how foolish you were trying to resist as Patode tears this cunt with his monstrous dick making me cum over and over again." 

The room seemed to shrink around them, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Shipra, her heart pounding, obeyed without hesitation, her tongue darting out to taste the salty sweetness of Namrata's arousal. Her movements were tentative at first, but as the tension in the room grew, so did her confidence. She could feel Patode's presence looming over them, his dominance a tangible force that seemed to guide her every action.
 
Namrata's breath hitched as Shipra's tongue worked its way over her sensitive flesh, her hands tangling in Shipra's hair to guide her movements. "That's it," she murmured, her voice a mix of encouragement and command. "Just like that. Go deeper. Make me all wet and ready."

Namrata's hips swayed in a hypnotic rhythm, perfectly synchronized with the movements of Shipra's tongue. Their eyes remained locked, an unspoken connection fueling the intensity of the moment. Meanwhile, Patode was thanking his stars for another opportunity to execute his dark plan—to bend Shipra to his will, to completely break her, and to claim her submission entirely. 



In one swift, effortless motion, Patode slid his hands beneath Namrata’s thighs and lifted her, drawing a surprised giggle from her lips. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her body moulding against his as he spread her legs wider, positioning her just above his crotch. Her wet, glistening folds hovered mere inches above the thick, throbbing length of his cock, the heat between them electric with anticipation.

His rock-hard cock stared right at her, the slick tip practically teasing her lips, daring her to obey. Shipra was beyond the point of hesitation now. The fleeting taste of freedom she had experienced the night before had consumed her thoughts. All she wanted was to escape the weight of her troubles, even if just for a moment.

Her lips parted as she leaned in, her breath warm against Patode’s skin. She bit her lower lip briefly, anticipation swirling in her chest before her trembling fingers reached for Patode’s cock, her action hesitant yet desperate. But before she could make contact, he stepped back, his eyes dark with amusement and control.

“You don’t get the privilege of serving me, Shipra,” he said, his voice smooth yet laced with dominance. “My sluts don’t just get to act out without consequences. When they misbehave, they pay for it. Unless you give me a damn good reason to forget your ungratefulness, or Namrata decides to plead for mercy on your behalf, you won’t so much as touch me. Instead, you’ll focus entirely on pleasing Namrata—while you suffer, burning with the torturous need for the release you know only I can give you.”

He smirked as Shipra swallowed hard, her thighs pressing together involuntarily. He could see it—the frustration, the helpless yearning. And he revelled in it.

Namrata, savouring every moment of Shipra’s humiliation, let a slow, wicked smile spread across her lips. Keeping her gaze locked on Shipra’s, she reached for Patode’s cock, guiding it to her slick entrance with deliberate slowness—teasing, daring, challenging Shipra to lose control, to break, to act like the desperate slut she was being reduced to.

“Don’t waste your hopes on me,” Namrata purred, her voice dripping with amusement. “I have no intention of begging for you. I’m more than capable—and more than happy—to take care of Patode myself.”

Her smirk deepened as she sank onto him, her eyes never leaving Shipra’s, reveling in the torment flickering across her face.

"Are you ready, Namrata?" he taunted, stepping back slightly. "It’s time to satisfy that itch of yours… and show Shipra exactly what she’ll be missing when she’s stuck with that pathetic wimp, Alok."
 
A shiver ran through Namrata at his words, her breath hitching. “Ohhh yes, Patode,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire. “I can't wait any longer.” 

Patode responded with equal hunger, his grip easing on her thighs as he slowly lowered her onto his cock.
“Ohhh Godddd Patode your dick feels so good,” Namrata cried in pleasure, her voice trembling with pleasure as inch by inch, her drenched pussy stretched to take him, greedily swallowing his full length. The erotic sight unfolded right before Shipra’s eyes, and sent a jolt of raw arousal through her body.

Patode set a steady rhythm, thrusting into Namrata as he lifted and rocked her against him, his grip firm on her thighs. The slick sounds of their joining filled the steamy air, each wet slap igniting a deeper need within Shipra. She could feel her own arousal dripping between her thighs, her body betraying her restraint.

The ache had become unbearable, a relentless throbbing that demanded relief. Unable to resist any longer, her hand slipped between her legs, fingers gliding through the slick heat pooling at her folds. A sharp gasp tore from her lips as she found her swollen clit, circling it in desperate, trembling strokes.

She bit down on her lip, her body writhing, struggling to match the raw pleasure Namrata was lost in—but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Her fingers couldn’t fill the aching void, couldn’t satisfy the need clawing at her insides.

She knew exactly what she craved. The same ruthless, mind-shattering pleasure she’d drowned in last night. She needed Patode’s cock stretching her open, tearing her apart, ruining her—reducing her to nothing but a desperate, begging mess, hungry for more… and more.



The sight of Patode’s cock plunging in and out of Namrata, glistening with her arousal, was too much to bear. Lust took hold of her completely. Without thinking, she lunged forward, her tongue darting out to taste the intoxicating mixture of their pleasure.



Namrata shuddered at the sensation, a breathless cry escaping her lips as Shipra’s tongue flicked against the point of their connection. Patode groaned, the added stimulation making his thrusts even more forceful.

Oh fuckkkkkk...... Ahhhhhh...Ahhhhhhhhhhh...Ungggggggg

The bathroom was soon filled with the sounds of unrestrained pleasure—Namrata’s breathless moans, Shipra’s eager whimpers, and the deep, commanding grunts of Patode, lost in the throes of indulgence.

"Look at yourself, Shipra," Patode sneered as he pulled back once again, his voice thick with condescension as his dark gaze bore into her. "So desperate for pleasure. So hungry for physical intimacy. I don’t even have to force you anymore—you are acting like a filthy little slut all on your own."

His thrusts never faltered, slamming into Namrata with unrelenting force, yet his attention remained fixed on Shipra. He watched her with a knowing smirk, taking in the way her breath hitched, the way her body trembled with need as witnessed the sinful act unfolding inches from her face.
 
"And yet," he continued, his tone laced with mockery, "you still refuse to see yourself for what you truly are. You cling to your pathetic morals, to this illusion of being a dutiful wife, denying yourself the real ecstasy of raw, unrestrained sex." He let out a low chuckle, his amusement cruel. "But this slutty act isn't enough to redeem yourself. Today I'll show you how I treat ungrateful bitches like you. Tonight, I'll put you to your right place."

Continued to the next post.....

[Speedy21]

The title say shripa orderal but story say making shripa slut what am I missing

[Victorjohnson]

Sorry bro.... Update not worth our wait... Twist on child health was good but after that again same old shits getting continued...

Also just imagine when namrata is tempting her making her feel worthless, if patode had to crack it...he shd have acted softly supported shipra with which she wud have felt patode better than her husband....

There was time when he shd have degraded her spit on her faxe and made her she is worthless but that time he missed. Now it is wrong time... Anyway story is stuck in same place... Waste update today... Disappointing

[Victorjohnson]

When Namrata hurts Shipra, Patodi should have used  his brain and given her more importance... This would have created at trust inside shipra... She would have given her up completely... there should have been a threesome here  and at the end of sex even if patode spits on her face, she wont be angry... Because patode had supported her when she was being insulted by Namrata... Anyway lets see wat happens in second update

[Suraj76626]

Continued from last post...

Patode’s grip on Namrata tightened, his thrusts becoming even more brutal, his dominance undeniable. But his cleverly crafted words aimed at Shipra were meant to break her, to unravel every last thread of resistance she had left.

“I’m sorry, Patode,” Shipra’s voice trembled with desperation, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “I’ll behave… I swear… I’ll never hesitate with you again… I’ll never be ungrateful for what you do for me.”

Her eyes, glazed with need, locked onto him, silently begging. Every inch of her body tingled, burning with unbearable hunger, the ache for release consuming her. She was unravelling, falling apart at his feet, willing to say anything—do anything—just to be given what she craved.

“Not enough, bitch,” Patode roared, his voice thick with dominance and disdain. “A pathetic apology won’t cut it. These lust-drenched words mean nothing to me. How could I believe whatever you're saying is sincere? You accepted me as your man yesterday and yet you behaved as it meant nothing to you.”

He stepped closer, letting Namrata down, his cock never slipping from the tight clasp of her cunt. A low, possessive growl rumbled in his chest and with a swift, punishing thrust, he drove himself deeper into her, the sheer force of it making Namrata gasp—a raw, breathless sound of pleasure and submission. Her body arched, her spine curving beautifully as she reached out, palms flattening against the wall for balance.

Shipra’s breath hitched kneeling on the floor beneath them. Namrata’s body loomed above her, her flushed skin glistening with water trickling down her body, her full breasts jiggling wildly with every relentless snap of Patode’s hips. The rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh filled the room, each thrust a declaration of dominance, a display of pleasure so uninhibited it sent a jolt of jealousy and arousal racing through Shipra’s veins.

Namrata’s gaze locked onto hers—heavy-lidded, dark with satisfaction, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smirk. Triumph shimmered in her lust-filled eyes, a silent taunt that sent a fresh pulse of heat through Shipra’s core. It wasn’t just the pleasure Namrata was experiencing—it was surrender. She was basking in it, revelling in the sheer ecstasy of being taken, owned. And she wanted Shipra to watch.

The hunger coiled inside Shipra, twisting into something unbearable. She knew exactly how Namrata felt. Her body remembered—every shattering orgasm, every merciless stroke, the way Patode had unraveled her last night until nothing else existed but the pleasure he gave her.

And now, watching Namrata drown in that same bliss, Shipra wanted it again. She Needed it. Craved it with an intensity that shattered whatever restraint she had left.

Patode’s eyes flickered downward, locking onto Shipra’s wide, tormented gaze. His smirk deepened, a cruel, knowing glint in his dark eyes.

“I need more than your empty words Shipra,” he growled, his voice low, menacing, vibrating with authority. His thrusts never slowed, each one punctuating his words, making Namrata whimper above her. “Are you sure you have it in you to succumb to my will? Are you ready to do something so filthy, so utterly perverse, that once you do it, you’ll never again be able to see yourself as a modest wife?"

"I am ready, Patode,” she blurted out, her voice breaking with desperation. “I'll do anything."
 
The words spilled from her lips before she could even process them. The moment she said them, a strange sense of clarity washed over her—this was what she had been running from, denying, suppressing. The truth. The inevitable.

“I get it now," she continued, her voice stronger, surer, even as her body trembled with need. "Besides being a wife and a mother, I am also a woman. I no longer have to feel torn apart between my duties and my needs. I don’t have to choose. I can be both. I can be anything you want me to be.” She met his gaze, wide-eyed and pleading. "I’ll succumb to your will in any and every way you desire… just fuck me. Please. Don’t torture me like this. I beg you."

But Patode was not in the mood to go easy on her. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a dark whisper, heavy with twisted amusement. "So beg," he whispered, his tone low but menacing. “Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to make you cum.” He smirked gesturing at his feet. “Beg me to let you be my filthy little slut.”

Shipra shuddered at Patode’s dark challenge, her body betraying her as a fresh wave of arousal coursed through her. She should have felt ashamed, humiliated even—but instead, she felt more excited, more eager, more drawn into the depravity unfolding before her.

Patode smirked, fully aware of the torment he was inflicting on Shipra without even touching her. He didn’t need to continue his verbal assault—his actions were far more effective.

He gripped Namrata’s thigh tighter, spreading her even further, his cock driving into her mercilessly, making sure Shipra saw everything—every thrust, every twitch, every slick, obscene detail of her body being taken
“Oh fuuucckkkkk… I’m going to cum… Patodeeee… harder… fuck me harder!” Namrata’s cries were raw and unrestrained, her body shuddering as she teetered on the edge of a powerful orgasm.

Shipra, on her knees, watched with wide, tormented eyes. She remained frozen to her place trying to comprehend Patode's humiliating demand. Her pride resisted her to drop to such a degrading level but her body and mind craved the pleasure he offered.

“Look at her, Shipra,” he commanded, his voice thick with amusement and dominance pushing her further. “She’s about to cum all over my dick—one of many orgasms I’ll give her tonight.” He drove into Namrata harder, making her whimper, making Shipra watch every second of it.

“Just like I gave you all night long yesterday,” Patode murmured, his voice slow and deliberate, every syllable dripping with taunt. His words weren’t just a reminder—they were a claim, a leash around Shipra’s mind, tugging her back into the intoxicating memories of the night before. He had wrecked her, unravelled her, broken her down until she was nothing more than a trembling, pleasure-drunk mess. No thoughts, no resistance—just raw, helpless surrender.

And now, he was offering her that ecstasy again.

His eyes burned into her, dark with amusement, challenge, and something far more dangerous. Without warning, his hand shot out, fingers tangling in her wet hair. A sharp gasp escaped Shipra as he yanked her head back, forcing her spine to arch, her lips parting in both pain and unbearable anticipation. The sting of his grip sent a fresh shiver of arousal through her, her scalp tingling as he pulled her up onto her knees.
 
She barely had time to steady herself before he shoved her forward, sending her sprawling at his feet. The wet marble was cold against her palms, a stark contrast to the heat coiling low in her belly.

“You just have to degrade yourself, Shipra,” Patode said, his voice thick with command, with temptation. “Tear down every limit you thought you had. Become nothing more than a cock-hungry slut—a submissive little bitch who exists solely for pleasure.”

The words shouldn’t have sent such a vicious thrill through her, but they did. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her skin prickling with shame, with desire, with the unbearable ache of wanting more.

His voice dipped lower, cruel, taunting, designed to break her completely. “And only when there’s nothing left of you but raw, desperate hunger… only when you have proven your sincerity and commitment…” He crouched slightly, his fingers tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Only then, Shipra… will I give you what you crave.”

Her breath hitched. There was no pretense left between them. No more moral dilemmas, no more futile resistance.

Patode had made his intentions crystal clear. He didn’t just want her body—he wanted all of her. He wanted her submission, her obedience, her very sense of self reduced to nothing but his possession. And unlike before, he wasn’t going to let her slip back into doubt or hesitation. No, he would burn this dominance into her mind, searing it into her very being until there was no room left for questioning.

He would own her desire. He would mould her into his perfect plaything.

One moan. One thrust. One act of debauchery at a time.

And tonight, he would leave no part of her untouched by his corruption.

Reaching for a bottle of body soap, Patode poured a generous amount of gel onto Namrata’s back, letting the thick liquid cascade down her glistening skin. Slowly, deliberately, he spread the foaming lather over her body, his hands moving with sinful intent. He explored every inch within his reach, his touch both possessive and teasing, dragging out soft whimpers from Namrata as he worked the soap into her skin.

His palms glided over the curves of her shoulders, down her spine, across the swell of her ass, before venturing to the front—his fingertips grazing the undersides of her breasts, slipping over her taut stomach, dipping dangerously close to her dripping cunt, even as he continued to slam into her with ruthless, unrelenting thrusts. His touch was slow, sensual, maddening, a calculated seduction designed not just to unravel Namrata but to torment Shipra, forcing her to witness every second of his control, every drop of pleasure he could extract from another woman.

Namrata trembled beneath him, her body arching instinctively into his touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Mmmh… Oh Fuck....you're killing me Patode Patode,” she purred, her voice laced with raw pleasure. Her head tilted back against his chest, completely surrendering to his touch. “Fuck my brains out... I am very close.”
 
Her desperate plea only fed his arrogance, his smirk widening as he tangled his fingers in Namrata’s wet hair and yanked her back, forcing a sharp gasp from her lips. Her spine arched beautifully, her body curving against him as he drove into her with rough, punishing thrusts, each one claiming her with merciless intensity.



He relished the way she trembled, the way her moans turned into shameless cries of pleasure. But more than that, he savoured the torment etched across Shipra’s face—the silent, agonizing hunger burning in her eyes.
Both women were exactly where he wanted them. One utterly wrecked beneath him, surrendering to his every demand. The other left to watch, helpless, aching, ready to beg to be next.

Within minutes, the steamy bathroom was filled with Namrata’s desperate, uninhibited cries as a powerful orgasm crashed over her. Her entire body tensed, her back arching against the slick tiles before she finally gave in, her knees buckling under the force of her release. With trembling legs, she collapsed onto the wet floor beside Shipra, her eyes fluttering shut, her body still quivering in the aftershocks of raw, unfiltered pleasure. She looked utterly spent—her parted lips, her heaving chest, the dazed expression of a woman lost in the blissful haze of submission.

Shipra shuddered at the sight. Her eyes remained fixed on Namrata's squirming and convulsing form. The storm of arousal inside her reached a fever pitch, impossible to contain any longer. She needed it. Needed him. Needed to feel the way Namrata had just felt—to surrender, to let go, to drown in the intoxicating pleasure only he could give her.

Her breath came in uneven gasps, her pulse hammering against her ribs as she crawled forward, her head bowing lower, her wet hair clinging to her flushed face.

And then, without another thought, she lowered her head to Patode’s feet, her lips just inches from the marble floor. The final shred of resistance inside her shattered.



“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice raw with desperation. “I was a thankless bitch.” She swallowed hard, her arousal and humiliation intertwining into something dark and thrilling. “Please… take care of my needs. I swear, you are my man, and please let me be your—” she exhaled shakily, the words tasting both foreign and exhilarating on her tongue, "slut.”

The confession left her lips like a sacred vow, her submission laid bare before him.

A deep, satisfied chuckle rumbled from Patode’s chest as he looked down at the once-defiant woman now grovelling at his feet. But he wasn’t done with her yet.

Taking her degradation a step further, he lifted his foot and placed it firmly on the back of her head, pressing her face down onto the cold, wet marble floor. Shipra gasped at the sensation—the stark contrast of warmth and chill, dominance and submission sending a fresh wave of arousal surging through her.

“That’s more like it,” Patode mused, his voice thick with approval, laced with dark amusement. His foot remained firm on the back of Shipra’s head, pressing her face against the cold, wet marble, a deliberate reminder of exactly where she belonged.
 
“This… this is your real position in this physical relationship, Shipra,” he continued, his tone steady, unyielding. “A desperate, unsatisfied, cheating wife who bends to my wishes. A woman so consumed by her own hunger that she will do anything—even degrade herself beyond her own morals—just to quench that burning itch inside her slutty cunt.”

His words weren’t just crude; they were merciless, stripping her bare in a way that had nothing to do with nudity. And yet, to Shipra’s utter shock, instead of humiliation, instead of shame, a new sensation flooded through her—an erotic thrill so intense, so primal, it made her thighs clench. The weight of his dominance, the sheer force of his control over her, ignited something deep inside her, something she had never felt before.

Instead of breaking her, it was awakening her.

A whimper escaped her lips, her body trembling with unfulfilled need. She should have felt degraded. Used. But instead, her arousal peaked to an unbearable height, her body teetering on the edge of an orgasm without even being touched.

“Yes… Yes, I accept it, Patode,” Shipra whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling with both surrender and longing. She lifted her gaze to him, eyes wild, desperate, pleading. “Now please… I can’t bear it anymore. Please, Patode—fuck me!” she all but screamed, her desperation spilling over, breaking whatever restraint, she had left.

Patode exhaled sharply, his smirk widening. He had her. Completely.

“Very well,” he said, his tone nonchalant, as if her begging was nothing more than expected. “Let’s see what lengths you’re ready to go, Shipra.”

Without another glance at her, he lifted his foot off her head, his attention shifting to Namrata, who was still sprawled on the wet floor, her body quivering with aftershocks of pleasure. He reached down, gripping a handful of her ass, and gave it a sharp, punishing slap. Namrata moaned at the contact, arching into him like a well-trained pet.

“I’m taking this bitch to the bedroom,” he announced, his voice dripping with authority. He grabbed a towel, casually wiping himself off before tossing it toward Namrata. “Clean yourself up and join us. Watch as I push the limits of your married friend… corrupting her, degrading her—turning her into a slut so filthy, so shameless, that even you won’t recognize her.”

Shipra trembled at his words, her body humming with unbearable anticipation. She had finally surrendered, given in to the raw, aching need that had consumed her. Relief flooded her veins, her skin prickling with the thrilling promise of what was to come.

With shaky limbs, she rose from her position on the wet floor, her breathing ragged as she tried to steady herself. But just as she began to push herself up, a sharp tug at her scalp sent a gasp ripping from her lips.

A sharp gasp left her lips as he pulled her forward, forcing her to crawl behind him as he strode toward the bedroom. The message was clear—she was his to control, to command, to use as he pleased.



And as much as she had fought it before, she no longer wanted to resist.

She wanted to be owned.

End of Chapter 30: An Illusion of Escape: Part 2 

[Suraj76626]

The title say shripa orderal but  story say making shripa slut  what am I missing

 I'll be glad to answer it but first tell me what according to you is an ordeal?

[Suraj76626]

Sorry bro.... Update not worth our wait... Twist on child health was good but after that again same old shits getting continued...

Also just imagine when namrata is tempting her making her feel worthless, if patode had to crack it...he shd have acted softly supported shipra with which she wud have felt patode better than her husband....

There was time when he shd have degraded her spit on her faxe and made her she is worthless but that time he missed. Now it is wrong time... Anyway story is stuck in same place... Waste update today... Disappointing

The update is intended for a specific purpose for later part of the story. So if you don't get it right now, it's unfortunate but thanks for reading.

[Victorjohnson]

Continued from last post...

Patode’s grip on Namrata tightened, his thrusts becoming even more brutal, his dominance undeniable. But his cleverly crafted words aimed at Shipra were meant to break her, to unravel every last thread of resistance she had left.

“I’m sorry, Patode,” Shipra’s voice trembled with desperation, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “I’ll behave… I swear… I’ll never hesitate with you again… I’ll never be ungrateful for what you do for me.”

Her eyes, glazed with need, locked onto him, silently begging. Every inch of her body tingled, burning with unbearable hunger, the ache for release consuming her. She was unravelling, falling apart at his feet, willing to say anything—do anything—just to be given what she craved.

“Not enough, bitch,” Patode roared, his voice thick with dominance and disdain. “A pathetic apology won’t cut it. These lust-drenched words mean nothing to me. How could I believe whatever you're saying is sincere? You accepted me as your man yesterday and yet you behaved as it meant nothing to you.”

He stepped closer, letting Namrata down, his cock never slipping from the tight clasp of her cunt. A low, possessive growl rumbled in his chest and with a swift, punishing thrust, he drove himself deeper into her, the sheer force of it making Namrata gasp—a raw, breathless sound of pleasure and submission. Her body arched, her spine curving beautifully as she reached out, palms flattening against the wall for balance.

Shipra’s breath hitched kneeling on the floor beneath them. Namrata’s body loomed above her, her flushed skin glistening with water trickling down her body, her full breasts jiggling wildly with every relentless snap of Patode’s hips. The rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh filled the room, each thrust a declaration of dominance, a display of pleasure so uninhibited it sent a jolt of jealousy and arousal racing through Shipra’s veins.

Namrata’s gaze locked onto hers—heavy-lidded, dark with satisfaction, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smirk. Triumph shimmered in her lust-filled eyes, a silent taunt that sent a fresh pulse of heat through Shipra’s core. It wasn’t just the pleasure Namrata was experiencing—it was surrender. She was basking in it, revelling in the sheer ecstasy of being taken, owned. And she wanted Shipra to watch.

The hunger coiled inside Shipra, twisting into something unbearable. She knew exactly how Namrata felt. Her body remembered—every shattering orgasm, every merciless stroke, the way Patode had unraveled her last night until nothing else existed but the pleasure he gave her.

And now, watching Namrata drown in that same bliss, Shipra wanted it again. She Needed it. Craved it with an intensity that shattered whatever restraint she had left.

Patode’s eyes flickered downward, locking onto Shipra’s wide, tormented gaze. His smirk deepened, a cruel, knowing glint in his dark eyes.

“I need more than your empty words Shipra,” he growled, his voice low, menacing, vibrating with authority. His thrusts never slowed, each one punctuating his words, making Namrata whimper above her. “Are you sure you have it in you to succumb to my will? Are you ready to do something so filthy, so utterly perverse, that once you do it, you’ll never again be able to see yourself as a modest wife?"

"I am ready, Patode,” she blurted out, her voice breaking with desperation. “I'll do anything."
 
The words spilled from her lips before she could even process them. The moment she said them, a strange sense of clarity washed over her—this was what she had been running from, denying, suppressing. The truth. The inevitable.

“I get it now," she continued, her voice stronger, surer, even as her body trembled with need. "Besides being a wife and a mother, I am also a woman. I no longer have to feel torn apart between my duties and my needs. I don’t have to choose. I can be both. I can be anything you want me to be.” She met his gaze, wide-eyed and pleading. "I’ll succumb to your will in any and every way you desire… just fuck me. Please. Don’t torture me like this. I beg you."

But Patode was not in the mood to go easy on her. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a dark whisper, heavy with twisted amusement. "So beg," he whispered, his tone low but menacing. “Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to make you cum.” He smirked gesturing at his feet. “Beg me to let you be my filthy little slut.”

Shipra shuddered at Patode’s dark challenge, her body betraying her as a fresh wave of arousal coursed through her. She should have felt ashamed, humiliated even—but instead, she felt more excited, more eager, more drawn into the depravity unfolding before her.

Patode smirked, fully aware of the torment he was inflicting on Shipra without even touching her. He didn’t need to continue his verbal assault—his actions were far more effective.

He gripped Namrata’s thigh tighter, spreading her even further, his cock driving into her mercilessly, making sure Shipra saw everything—every thrust, every twitch, every slick, obscene detail of her body being taken
“Oh fuuucckkkkk… I’m going to cum… Patodeeee… harder… fuck me harder!” Namrata’s cries were raw and unrestrained, her body shuddering as she teetered on the edge of a powerful orgasm.

Shipra, on her knees, watched with wide, tormented eyes. She remained frozen to her place trying to comprehend Patode's humiliating demand. Her pride resisted her to drop to such a degrading level but her body and mind craved the pleasure he offered.

“Look at her, Shipra,” he commanded, his voice thick with amusement and dominance pushing her further. “She’s about to cum all over my dick—one of many orgasms I’ll give her tonight.” He drove into Namrata harder, making her whimper, making Shipra watch every second of it.

“Just like I gave you all night long yesterday,” Patode murmured, his voice slow and deliberate, every syllable dripping with taunt. His words weren’t just a reminder—they were a claim, a leash around Shipra’s mind, tugging her back into the intoxicating memories of the night before. He had wrecked her, unravelled her, broken her down until she was nothing more than a trembling, pleasure-drunk mess. No thoughts, no resistance—just raw, helpless surrender.

And now, he was offering her that ecstasy again.

His eyes burned into her, dark with amusement, challenge, and something far more dangerous. Without warning, his hand shot out, fingers tangling in her wet hair. A sharp gasp escaped Shipra as he yanked her head back, forcing her spine to arch, her lips parting in both pain and unbearable anticipation. The sting of his grip sent a fresh shiver of arousal through her, her scalp tingling as he pulled her up onto her knees.
 
She barely had time to steady herself before he shoved her forward, sending her sprawling at his feet. The wet marble was cold against her palms, a stark contrast to the heat coiling low in her belly.

“You just have to degrade yourself, Shipra,” Patode said, his voice thick with command, with temptation. “Tear down every limit you thought you had. Become nothing more than a cock-hungry slut—a submissive little bitch who exists solely for pleasure.”

The words shouldn’t have sent such a vicious thrill through her, but they did. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her skin prickling with shame, with desire, with the unbearable ache of wanting more.

His voice dipped lower, cruel, taunting, designed to break her completely. “And only when there’s nothing left of you but raw, desperate hunger… only when you have proven your sincerity and commitment…” He crouched slightly, his fingers tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Only then, Shipra… will I give you what you crave.”

Her breath hitched. There was no pretense left between them. No more moral dilemmas, no more futile resistance.

Patode had made his intentions crystal clear. He didn’t just want her body—he wanted all of her. He wanted her submission, her obedience, her very sense of self reduced to nothing but his possession. And unlike before, he wasn’t going to let her slip back into doubt or hesitation. No, he would burn this dominance into her mind, searing it into her very being until there was no room left for questioning.

He would own her desire. He would mould her into his perfect plaything.

One moan. One thrust. One act of debauchery at a time.

And tonight, he would leave no part of her untouched by his corruption.

Reaching for a bottle of body soap, Patode poured a generous amount of gel onto Namrata’s back, letting the thick liquid cascade down her glistening skin. Slowly, deliberately, he spread the foaming lather over her body, his hands moving with sinful intent. He explored every inch within his reach, his touch both possessive and teasing, dragging out soft whimpers from Namrata as he worked the soap into her skin.

His palms glided over the curves of her shoulders, down her spine, across the swell of her ass, before venturing to the front—his fingertips grazing the undersides of her breasts, slipping over her taut stomach, dipping dangerously close to her dripping cunt, even as he continued to slam into her with ruthless, unrelenting thrusts. His touch was slow, sensual, maddening, a calculated seduction designed not just to unravel Namrata but to torment Shipra, forcing her to witness every second of his control, every drop of pleasure he could extract from another woman.

Namrata trembled beneath him, her body arching instinctively into his touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Mmmh… Oh Fuck....you're killing me Patode Patode,” she purred, her voice laced with raw pleasure. Her head tilted back against his chest, completely surrendering to his touch. “Fuck my brains out... I am very close.”
 
Her desperate plea only fed his arrogance, his smirk widening as he tangled his fingers in Namrata’s wet hair and yanked her back, forcing a sharp gasp from her lips. Her spine arched beautifully, her body curving against him as he drove into her with rough, punishing thrusts, each one claiming her with merciless intensity.



He relished the way she trembled, the way her moans turned into shameless cries of pleasure. But more than that, he savoured the torment etched across Shipra’s face—the silent, agonizing hunger burning in her eyes.
Both women were exactly where he wanted them. One utterly wrecked beneath him, surrendering to his every demand. The other left to watch, helpless, aching, ready to beg to be next.

Within minutes, the steamy bathroom was filled with Namrata’s desperate, uninhibited cries as a powerful orgasm crashed over her. Her entire body tensed, her back arching against the slick tiles before she finally gave in, her knees buckling under the force of her release. With trembling legs, she collapsed onto the wet floor beside Shipra, her eyes fluttering shut, her body still quivering in the aftershocks of raw, unfiltered pleasure. She looked utterly spent—her parted lips, her heaving chest, the dazed expression of a woman lost in the blissful haze of submission.

Shipra shuddered at the sight. Her eyes remained fixed on Namrata's squirming and convulsing form. The storm of arousal inside her reached a fever pitch, impossible to contain any longer. She needed it. Needed him. Needed to feel the way Namrata had just felt—to surrender, to let go, to drown in the intoxicating pleasure only he could give her.

Her breath came in uneven gasps, her pulse hammering against her ribs as she crawled forward, her head bowing lower, her wet hair clinging to her flushed face.

And then, without another thought, she lowered her head to Patode’s feet, her lips just inches from the marble floor. The final shred of resistance inside her shattered.



“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice raw with desperation. “I was a thankless bitch.” She swallowed hard, her arousal and humiliation intertwining into something dark and thrilling. “Please… take care of my needs. I swear, you are my man, and please let me be your—” she exhaled shakily, the words tasting both foreign and exhilarating on her tongue, "slut.”

The confession left her lips like a sacred vow, her submission laid bare before him.

A deep, satisfied chuckle rumbled from Patode’s chest as he looked down at the once-defiant woman now grovelling at his feet. But he wasn’t done with her yet.

Taking her degradation a step further, he lifted his foot and placed it firmly on the back of her head, pressing her face down onto the cold, wet marble floor. Shipra gasped at the sensation—the stark contrast of warmth and chill, dominance and submission sending a fresh wave of arousal surging through her.

“That’s more like it,” Patode mused, his voice thick with approval, laced with dark amusement. His foot remained firm on the back of Shipra’s head, pressing her face against the cold, wet marble, a deliberate reminder of exactly where she belonged.
 
“This… this is your real position in this physical relationship, Shipra,” he continued, his tone steady, unyielding. “A desperate, unsatisfied, cheating wife who bends to my wishes. A woman so consumed by her own hunger that she will do anything—even degrade herself beyond her own morals—just to quench that burning itch inside her slutty cunt.”

His words weren’t just crude; they were merciless, stripping her bare in a way that had nothing to do with nudity. And yet, to Shipra’s utter shock, instead of humiliation, instead of shame, a new sensation flooded through her—an erotic thrill so intense, so primal, it made her thighs clench. The weight of his dominance, the sheer force of his control over her, ignited something deep inside her, something she had never felt before.

Instead of breaking her, it was awakening her.

A whimper escaped her lips, her body trembling with unfulfilled need. She should have felt degraded. Used. But instead, her arousal peaked to an unbearable height, her body teetering on the edge of an orgasm without even being touched.

“Yes… Yes, I accept it, Patode,” Shipra whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling with both surrender and longing. She lifted her gaze to him, eyes wild, desperate, pleading. “Now please… I can’t bear it anymore. Please, Patode—fuck me!” she all but screamed, her desperation spilling over, breaking whatever restraint, she had left.

Patode exhaled sharply, his smirk widening. He had her. Completely.

“Very well,” he said, his tone nonchalant, as if her begging was nothing more than expected. “Let’s see what lengths you’re ready to go, Shipra.”

Without another glance at her, he lifted his foot off her head, his attention shifting to Namrata, who was still sprawled on the wet floor, her body quivering with aftershocks of pleasure. He reached down, gripping a handful of her ass, and gave it a sharp, punishing slap. Namrata moaned at the contact, arching into him like a well-trained pet.

“I’m taking this bitch to the bedroom,” he announced, his voice dripping with authority. He grabbed a towel, casually wiping himself off before tossing it toward Namrata. “Clean yourself up and join us. Watch as I push the limits of your married friend… corrupting her, degrading her—turning her into a slut so filthy, so shameless, that even you won’t recognize her.”

Shipra trembled at his words, her body humming with unbearable anticipation. She had finally surrendered, given in to the raw, aching need that had consumed her. Relief flooded her veins, her skin prickling with the thrilling promise of what was to come.

With shaky limbs, she rose from her position on the wet floor, her breathing ragged as she tried to steady herself. But just as she began to push herself up, a sharp tug at her scalp sent a gasp ripping from her lips.

A sharp gasp left her lips as he pulled her forward, forcing her to crawl behind him as he strode toward the bedroom. The message was clear—she was his to control, to command, to use as he pleased.



And as much as she had fought it before, she no longer wanted to resist.

She wanted to be owned.

End of Chapter 30: An Illusion of Escape: Part 2 

This was the same manner how story ended before two updates... Now again same dialog same point story is stopped... Story is not moving my friend... Now top will easily get Shipra under his cock... Anyway still i say i am not at all satisfied.... May be i am wrong but my opinion this is not how shipra shd be picturized....

Waiting for 2 weeks but this update didnt excite me at all... I am disappointed.... I know many may appreciate but i felt it completely out of track

[RCF]

Great update

Details are the strength of this story. Submissive sex is not my cup of tea, I like seduction more but still the story is being written so well.
I am getting annoyed with Namrata's dominating behavior and getting out of hand...Would have been so nice if Patode does all this with out Namrata's help so the onus will be on him at the end of the day when things turn other way round. Now Namrata has to share the sins.

~RCF

[poslednjisamuraj0202]

I think the story has been going round and round for a few chapters now and the constant attempt to make Shipra submissive and a whore is getting boring. The constant insistence on submission, I think, tires most readers. That's my opinion. Give Shipra Topo a try and maybe someone can free her from Patode and Narmata.

[hotandluking]

Her friend Namrata's character has been made unnecessarily cruel in this part.
Second,foot on her head,hated that part.
Third,story is kind of stuck.....scenes are hot but scenarios are the same honestly.
Fourth,by this time,Shipra should have been completely under his control with them having sex whenever and wherever Patode wanted....but with some passion,not in a degrading manner.
Fifth,next part would most probably be sex between Patode and Shipra with degrading kind of sex.
So,that part is obviously loss for us as it is predictable.So,have to wait a month or so,to get to the meaty part of the story.

In conclusion,update has been good,thanks for the effort and above is just simple opinion as a reader who loves this story.

[RCF]

I do not see this as story not moving as per other readers, In fact this is crucial episode to make Shipra lose her identity once and for all.

She is still clinging to her husband and marriage after last episode so this episode is still in flow without disturbing the flow. Patode making rough and degrading sex is obviously expected but that is needed too. Next morning Shipra should treat him as her man so this episode is a must. People want story to move as soon as possible and see others enter the scene and fuck Shipra but with out commitment to Patode that is not going to happen. So this episode is a must.

As for Namrata I agree, she is unnecessarily being a bitch and taking sides with Patode, she has long back turned villain in this story coaxing Shipra into this ordeal so there is no going back now, I guess later at the end of the story author wants Shipra to remember her cruelty when its time to give it back to all of these guys. So wantedly Namrata was sided to Patode in my guess. Nevertheless it still seemed out of place for her to treat her friend like that, esp slapping and calling names. I can't wait for her to leave that place, she is one of the most irritating character I have read in this forum.

~RCF

[Victorjohnson]

Sorry suraj... This week update had degraded the versatility of this story.... Anyway one request is that pls dnt make shipra behave like sanskari...

Also pls include drinks smoke drugs etc because just showing shipra a sex addicted woman is completely ruining the character sketch which was developed till nw..

[bittu0211]

Lately comments have become too nosey for this story, asking Suraj to do this do that ... Innovative ideas are okay ... But some demands are just pointless ... Good or bad story updates .. it is Suraj's best output as per him, let us show a bit courtesy for the efforts being put to write the story .... If not , request these people to start a story with their thoughts and deliver another gem of story ... Apologies for lengthy rant ... Nothing personal.. and Thanks Suraj for another update.

[Rahul1984]

Nice buildup for shipra's upcoming inevitable downfall of her morality..
Pls don't change shipra's upcoming ordeal fullfill the buildup u given to shipra's character without comprimise..
Ur writing of her character downfall realistic and exciting.. Makesure she engaged every carnal pleasure and forbidden sex & lost in Unapologetic bliss..