Adultery The Rural Posting: Shipra's ordeal.

[Suraj76626]

[quote pid='5886668' dateline='1740307385']
P.S.
My predictions about the future progression of the story are in no way a wish list. It is just an educated guesswork based on my reading of the story. But i would love to know what suraj thinks about my predictions
Suraj is a supremely talented writer. I would prefer to read how he decides to take the story forward even if I may not like parts of it. That’s why its important Suraj should not alter the progression of the story due to populist demands.
[/quote]

 Thanks for your detailed comment my friend. You have brought out what I intended with the story very beautifully.

Your predictions are more or less spot on. I would not go in details as it will spoil the story.
Keep supporting and reading in means a lot to me. I will surely try to make the story more interesting for all readers.

[Suraj76626]

Next update most probably by Friday.

[Deepak Sanjeev]

Namrata should next change the mind of Alok that his wife deserves good things in life and make him a cuckold and lick and drink the patode juices flowing from shipra vagina. Also accept the child born to him and father it. It is best help that Namrata can do her friend Shipra.

[RANA ROY]

Awesome...........waiting

[Urupudathavan]

Killing updates

[Dumeelkumar]

super update

[Suraj76626]

Next update dropping Tomorrow.

[qazmlp]

Yess Yes Yes

[bittu0211]

Next update dropping Tomorrow.

Real test for my No nut Thursday

[hotandluking]

Next update dropping Tomorrow.

Great,very fast update.
Waiting.

[Vinty03]

It's morning now waiting for the update..

[Victorjohnson]

It's morning now waiting for the update..

He mostly updates at nite... Because i feel he is not free... He will be busy with his work... I dnt think giving more pressure to a person just because he is entertaining us that too free of cost is a wrong thing... Lets give him time...

[desiass]

This is one of the best story, Thank you for the effort spent in writing this masterpiece

[Suraj76626]

Chapter 30: An Illusion of Escape: Part 3
 
"Thanks for all your help, Chetan. I’ll be sure to repay your generosity next time," Shrutika said, offering him a polite but firm smile as they stood together at the dusty Ambruj bus stand, their journey having just come to an end.
 
Chetan smiled warmly, brushing a hand through his slightly dishevelled hair, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "Oh, no need to thank me, ma’am. This is the least I can do for someone new in my town," he said, his voice carrying a touch of humility.
 
Shrutika arched an eyebrow, an amused glint in her eyes. "You can call me Shrutika. No need to be so formal," she corrected politely, her tone crisp yet inviting. Over the course of their journey, their conversations had started out formal, but as the time passed, a sense of familiarity settled between them. 
 
“I’ve spoken to the hotel manager,” Chetan continued, his voice reassuring. “You won’t face any issues with your stay. And besides that, if you ever need any assistance in the future, don’t hesitate to call me.”
 
Shrutika nodded appreciatively; her expression composed. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, but thank you,” she said, extending a hand for a handshake, her professional demeanor intact.
 
Chetan reached out, grasping her hand firmly. The moment their hands met, he was caught off guard. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. “You have a strong, rugged grip, Shrutika.” He had expected her hand to be delicate, and soft—like most women he had met—but instead, her handshake was firm, assertive, almost commanding. Her hands, though well-maintained, bore the subtle roughness of someone accustomed to hard work or training. It was a contrast to her serene beauty, a paradox that intrigued him.
 
Shrutika simply smirked, retracting her hand smoothly. “Later, Chetan. All the best for your business,” she said, adjusting the strap of her handbag. Without another word, she grabbed the handle of her luggage and turned gracefully, stepping towards the bustling street. Raising a hand, she hailed an auto, slipping into the vehicle with effortless confidence.
 
Chetan remained rooted to the spot, watching her departure with a mix of admiration and curiosity. Never in his life had he encountered a woman quite like her—so reserved, so composed, yet undeniably captivating. There was an air of mystery about her, an aura of quiet strength that made her all the more fascinating. She had revealed little about herself during their bus ride, keeping their conversation light and impersonal. What was her purpose here? Who was she beneath that poised exterior? He had no answers, only the lingering impression she had left behind.
 
A slow satisfied grin spread across his face as he pulled out his phone, dialing a number. The moment the call connected, he spoke with mock impatience, “Where the hell are you, asshole? I’m waiting.”
 
*************************************************************************************
 
Namrata struggled to lift herself off the wet bathroom floor, her legs still trembling, her body humming with the lingering aftershocks of the earth-shattering orgasm Patode had just wrung from her.
 
Slowly, she made her way toward the bedroom, and to her surprise the scene inside was far more raw and erotic than she had anticipated.
 
Shipra lay sprawled on the mattress, her head hanging off the edge of the bed, the curve of her neck strained in a near-perfect arch. Her dark hair cascaded toward the floor. Her hands clung desperately to Patode’s hips, fingers digging into his flesh. Yet, her grip was not one of control—it was an anchor, something to hold onto as he asserted his dominance over her with ruthless precision.

  
 
Patode loomed over her, his stance wide, his eyes dark with unchecked hunger. His thick length drove into her parted lips, gliding past the warmth of her tongue, forcing its way deep into her throat. Shipra’s world blurred at the edges, her throat tightening around him as he buried himself to the hilt. Every stroke was deliberate, punishing—each retreat only a tease before he plunged in again, deeper, harder, pushing her limits.
 
She gagged, her throat convulsing around his shaft, her body reacting involuntarily to the sheer intensity of his intrusion. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, her lashes damp as she struggled for air. Yet, there was no reprieve. Patode was merciless, gripping her nipples between his fingers, he was pinching them roughly as he claimed her mouth with an unforgiving rhythm. His breath was ragged, his muscles tense, his entire being focused on one goal—to mold her, to break past any lingering resistance, to corrupt her so completely that she would never again be able to resist him.
 
Shipra's body burned, the raw mixture of submission and pleasure coursing through her veins. Every thrust imprinted his control upon her, an unspoken promise that she would remember this moment—this ruthless, intoxicating dominance—for the rest of her life.
 
By now, Patode was certain of one undeniable truth—Shipra had a submissive nature, one that craved dominance even when she refused to acknowledge it. She could struggle, she could resist, she could even let guilt gnaw at her, but in the end, she had no real escape.
 
He didn't need to push her so far, not tonight. But he had his reasons. Shipra wasn't exclusive to him. Toppo and Salim had been circling like vultures, growing impatient. So far, he had kept them at bay, feeding them explicit videos of Shipra and Namrata—teasers of their most depraved moments. But that wouldn't satisfy them for long. Their hunger demanded more, and Patode knew they would soon start pushing for something beyond digital gratification.
 
With Namrata leaving for an uncertain period, he had only Shipra left to leverage in his twisted game of lust and power. And if she was to serve that purpose, she needed to be broken, her resistance crushed until she was incapable of denying him or anyone, he chose to share her with.
 
Yet, he couldn't deny that there was a different kind of pleasure in watching a hesitant, guilt-ridden wife submit—one who knew she shouldn’t, who tried to fight it, but ultimately couldn’t. That struggle, that torment, only fueled his arousal.
 
A dark smirk twisted Patode’s lips as he gazed down at her, his cock still buried deep in her throat, her face framed by the stretch of his thighs. He could feel the way her body trembled beneath him, every muscle tightening as she fought for air. His fingers curled around her wrists, dragging them away from his hips and pinning them against the mattress, spreading her wide, leaving her vulnerable and powerless beneath him.
 
"Knowing how much you love sucking my dick, I’m sure you're having fun, Shipra," he growled, his voice dripping with arrogance and cruel amusement.
 
He leaned in further, pressing his weight into her, his cock sinking even deeper, cutting off what little air she had left. His heavy balls rested against her tear-streaked face, an obscene display of ownership. The raw dominance in his stance sent a clear message—she was his to use, his to break, his to reshape however he saw fit.


 
He held himself there, unmoving, watching with perverse satisfaction as Shipra's body began to convulse. Her throat spasmed, her legs kicked weakly, a frantic struggle against the suffocating pressure. Her nails clawed helplessly at the sheets, her mind caught in a haze of panic and submission.
 
Only when he was sure she was teetering on the edge of complete surrender, he finally did release her. With a loud, wet pop, he pulled back, his slick length glistening with her saliva. Shipra instantly began coughing violently, sucking in deep, desperate gulps of air.
 
Patode stepped back, watching her with dark amusement as she pushed herself up onto her knees. Her face was a mess—smeared with a thick, glistening coat of spit and precum, her lips swollen and bruised from the relentless assault.
 
She looked wrecked. Used. Owned.
 
"You’re really going wild tonight, Patode," Namrata murmured, raising a brow as she leaned against the bathroom doorframe. Her damp skin shimmered softly under the dim light, a towel hanging loosely around her body as she traced it along her curves. She had been watching in silence, both amused and surprised by the way Patode was manhandling Shipra with such cruel intensity.
 
Patode, still catching his breath, turned his head slightly, his lips curling into a smirk. His body gleamed with sweat, muscles taut with exertion, the sheer dominance in his stance exuding raw power.
 
"Not wild enough yet," he replied, his voice husky with unchecked hunger. He glanced toward Namrata briefly before shifting his focus back to Shipra. His gaze darkened as he traced the helplessness in her posture, the way she gasped for air, her body trembling from the relentless onslaught. "I’m just warming her up. You’ll love how I fuck the modest wife out of her tonight," he added, his tone dripping with arrogance. Then, almost as an afterthought, he shot Namrata a knowing look. "But you'll have to wait for your turn."
 
Namrata scoffed, rolling her eyes as she tossed the towel at him, the fabric hitting his chest before slipping to the floor. "So, all that ‘I’m tired and all’ was just a lie to lure us here?" she asked, feigning mock anger.
 
Patode chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he stretched his arms behind him, his confidence unshaken. "Oh, come on, Namrata," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "Don’t be so naive. You two horny bitches would’ve ended up here tonight anyway, getting your slutty cunts fucked by me. I just did you a favor by setting the stage—so you wouldn’t have to get down and dirty on your own first."
 
His tone grew rougher, cruder, laced with unrestrained arrogance as he turned his full attention back to Shipra. "Now, shut your trap and find a seat to enjoy the show," he ordered, his voice sharp with authority. "Watch as I teach this ungrateful bitch a lesson or two in how to properly thank her man."
 
Namrata felt a cold shiver crawl down her spine. Something in his voice—something in the way his dominance had shifted into something even darker—unnerved her for a brief moment. She had always known Patode to be controlling, even rough, but tonight, there was an edge to him that went beyond simple dominance. This was something more.
 
She hesitated, just for a second. But then, swallowing whatever sliver of doubt flickered in the back of her mind, she obeyed, stepping forward without another word.
 
"Shall we continue, Shipra?" he murmured, though the question was purely rhetorical. They both knew she had no say in the matter.
 
"Please, Patode… not so rough… please…" she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath.
 
"Don’t tell me you didn’t love the deepthroating, Shipra," he taunted ignoring her pleas, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You should be proud—most bitches I’ve been with couldn’t handle that. A point in case…" he gestured lazily toward Namrata, who was perched against the headboard, arms crossed over her chest, rolling her eyes at his words.
 
He let out a throaty laugh and made his way back to the bed in quick, purposeful strides, the predatory gleam in his eyes never wavering.
 
Before Shipra could react, Patode was on the bed, his hand snapping around her throat in one swift motion. He shoved her down, pressing her into the mattress with unrelenting force, his grip firm but calculated—not enough to truly hurt her, but enough to remind her who was in charge. His body loomed over hers, exuding dominance, his presence suffocating and intoxicating all at once.
 
"Listen, bitch," he growled, his voice rough and unwavering. "Tonight, you’ll take everything I give you, and you’re going to love every single moment of the rough fuck you deserve." His fingers tightened slightly around her throat, just enough to make her breath hitch. "You’re nothing but a sex-starved, cheating wife who begged me to fuck her brains out. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do. And while doing so I gonna teach you a lesson for being a hypocrite."
 
Shipra gasped, her body shivering beneath him, the raw authority in his words seeping into her veins, making her pulse race.
 
"And if you’re not reveling in the ecstasy of losing control," he continued, his tone dark and taunting, "then you’re free to leave." He let that possibility linger for just a second before a smirk curled at his lips. "But we both know that’s not the case, don’t we?" His thumb grazed along her jaw, almost mockingly gentle. "So quit your bitching and let that submissive slut you’ve been hiding for so long free."
 
His words dripped with irrevocable intensity, searing into her like a brand, igniting something deep within her that she could no longer deny.
 
"So, what’s it going to be, Shipra Madam?" he chuckled, his gaze locked onto hers, knowing full well there was no real escape—except the one he was offering.
 
Shipra’s breath came in shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stared into Patode’s piercing eyes. Her lips parted, but no words came out—not because she lacked the will to protest, but because there was nothing to protest.
 
She should have objected. She should have resisted. But she couldn’t.
 
The strange thrill of being dominated to this level sent a shiver coursing through her body, the sheer loss of control intoxicating in ways she had never experienced before. And more than that—more than the words, the roughness, or the sheer arrogance in his voice—she couldn’t deny the raw, aching need pooling between her thighs. Every nerve in her body was alive, tingling with desperate anticipation. She was burning, feverish with desire, her skin hypersensitive to every touch, her body betraying her with every tremble.
 
Patode watched her closely, drinking in the silent admission reflected in her heated gaze.
 
He turned toward Namrata with a smirk. "You see, Namrata," he said, his voice thick with amusement. "This bitch can’t even protest now. She’s loving every second of being treated like a slut." He traced his fingers along Shipra’s flushed cheek before gripping her chin roughly. "And by the time I’m done with her, you’ll see her degrade herself to depths even you wouldn’t dare go to."
 
Namrata’s lips parted slightly, but she said nothing. A flicker of something crossed her face—uncertainty, concern, arousal? Perhaps a mix of all three.
 
Shipra, still pinned beneath Patode, could do nothing but shudder under his hold, caught in the throes of submission and desire.

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

 
Alok barely registered the soft clink of the glass as his mother placed it on the study table. His focus remained locked on the lines of text in front of him, but her words cut through the silence, demanding his attention.
 
"How long do you think you both can go like this, Alok?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with concern.
 
Alok turned his head slightly, eyes still scanning the notes in front of him. "What do you mean, Ma?" he asked, his tone neutral, though he had an inkling of where this conversation was heading.
 
His mother sighed, a mixture of frustration and motherly concern evident in her expression. "You know exactly what I mean, Alok. At least think about Aarav. He’s growing up like an orphan, raised by a nanny while his parents are too busy chasing their ambitions. Is that the kind of childhood you want for him?"
 
Alok shut his book, exhaling deeply. "Ma, we’ve discussed this before. It’s just a matter of six more months. Shipra will get promoted, hopefully to a city posting, and my exams will be over. Then everything will fall into place. It’s not uncommon for both parents to be working these days—it’s part of modern life. We’re doing all this for Aarav’s future."
 
His mother’s face hardened, her tone shifting from concern to quiet reprimand. "And what about his present, Alok? What about your present? You and Shipra’s? You think I don’t notice the strain between you two?"
 
Alok stiffened but remained silent.
 
"If things continue like this, I’ll have no choice but to take Aarav with me to the village. At least there, he will have a real family around him. He won’t grow up feeling alone." Her words were sharp now, heavy with conviction.
 
"Ma, it’s nothing like that," Alok replied, irritation creeping into his voice. "We’ll talk about this later. I really need to study."
 
His mother looked at him for a long moment before speaking again, this time softer, but with undeniable weight. "Do whatever you both want. But no matter how modern you claim to be, a man living off a woman’s income—it’s not healthy for a relationship. You might not see it now, but things have started to change between you two. Shipra might have agreed to support your dreams, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t struggling. I can see it, even if you choose to ignore it. As a mother, I hope you succeed in your exams, but listen to me when I say—you have a family that needs you now, not just in the future. Everyone wants a better future for themselves and their children, but one must be careful not to squander what they already have in pursuit of it."
 
With that, she turned and left, leaving Alok alone with his thoughts.
 
He sat still for a long time, her words gnawing at the edges of his mind. Was she right? Had things changed between him and Shipra? He had been so focused on his studies, so determined to prove himself, that he hadn’t stopped to notice the growing distance. But with the recent developments—Shipra’s impatience, her odd behavior, and his conversations, especially those with Chetan, Namrata, and Rahul—an unsettling feeling settled in his chest. Has he already pushed Shipra too far away?
 
Sighing, he reached for his phone. After staring at the wallpaper of him, Shipra and Aarav for a second, his fingers hovered over the screen before he finally typed a message.
 
I’m sorry, Shipra. 
I know you’re under a lot of stress, and I didn’t mean to add to it. 
I’m really glad you’re coming home. I’ve missed you. 
Let’s spend some quality time together. 
Just us. You, me and Aarav.
I love you.
 
He stared at the screen for a few seconds before hitting send. Then, placing the phone beside him, he picked up his book again. He waited for a reply, but when none came, he sighed and turned back to his studies. Still, his mind was no longer fully on the words in front of him.
 
***********************************************
 
"Ahhhh...Ahhhh...Ahhhh
Ohhh..Godddd...Patode...I am so close...... Fuckkkk....it feels so gooooood."
 
Shipra's loud moans filled the bedroom, mingling with the thick scent of surrender and unrestrained desire, as she rode Patode with a fervor that teetered on the edge of delirium.

 
 
Patode lay sprawled on the bed leisurely with an air of possession, his posture relaxed but his demeanor dripped with arrogance. Beside him, Shipra’s phone vibrated incessantly, the screen flashing with a stream of notifications. A slow smirk curved his lips as he idly picked it up and scrolled through the messages, his tone mocking as he addressed Shipra.
 
"Well, well, if it isn’t the wimp husband Alok, texting his prim and proper manager wife. Do you want me to read it to you Shipra?" Patode teased, his voice laced with disdain. He let out a low, derisive laugh, the sound echoing in the room. "What do you think he’ll do, Shipra, if he sees his faithful wife bouncing on another man’s cock, so desperate for an orgasm? Should I send him a photo of you in such a trance, acting like a slut? I bet he will cum in his pants just looking at what I have done to his precious wife." His chuckle was dark, almost menacing, as he continued to scroll through her phone, one hand casually resting behind his head.
 
The past hour had been a whirlwind of raw, unrelenting passion, but it was far from tender or loving. From the moment Patode dragged Shipra back into the bedroom, he had taken full control of their adulterous fornication, his actions fueled by a mix of dominance and cruelty. He had pushed her to her limits, both physically and emotionally, leaving her teetering on the edge of pleasure and pain.




 
Their encounter had been a relentless marathon of hardcore sex, with Patode taking her in every position imaginable. From the raw intensity of hardcore missionary to the outright dominance of doggy style, he had left no room for gentleness. Each thrust, each movement, was calculated to bring her to the brink of orgasm, only to deny her the release she so desperately craved. He had slapped her, choked her, fingered her, pulled her hair, and treated her with a roughness that bordered on degradation. Yet, through it all, Shipra had not once asked him to stop.
 
Namrata, who had been watching from the sidelines, felt a mix of emotions swirling within her. She had experienced rough sex before, but nothing like this. Nothing so brutal and perverted. Patode’s actions were beyond anything she had ever encountered, and she found herself more concerned for Shipra’s safety than aroused by the spectacle.
 
Yet, to Namrata’s astonishment, Shipra had not resisted. There had been no struggle, no indignation, no sign of the defiance she had expected. Instead, Shipra had surrendered completely, her cries filled not with protest but with unrestrained pleasure. She had moaned Patode’s name with desperate longing, obeying his every degrading command without hesitation. She had pleaded with him, her voice trembling with need, begging him to let her climax, as though she were utterly possessed by desire. In that moment, she had become someone entirely unfamiliar to Namrata—someone reckless, shameless, and consumed by a passion so raw that it seemed almost unrecognizable.
 
"Fuck the message… I’m so close… Please, let me cum… Please Patode," Shipra snapped, her voice raw with desperation. The frustration of being repeatedly denied release clouded her mind, stripping away any concern for what she assumed was yet another selfish message from Alok. At this moment, nothing else mattered—only the unbearable ache coursing through her body, demanding fulfillment.
 
Patode let out a deep, rumbling laugh, his amusement laced with cruel satisfaction. "Hahaha… That’s more like it. Now you’re behaving like a proper slut," he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Namrata?" he added, his voice slicing through the charged air like a blade as he tossed the phone towards her, breaking Namrata's chain of thoughts.
 
"She is so lost in the blissful world of pleasure I’ve dragged her into that she doesn’t even care about her husband anymore," he mused, almost as if speaking to himself.
 
With a sudden, forceful jerk of his hips, Patode sent a jolt of pleasure-pain surging through Shipra’s body, making her collapse against his chest with a breathless gasp. Her nails raked across his skin, leaving faint red trails as her body trembled against him. Her breath came in shallow, erratic bursts, her mind drowning in the overwhelming sensations he mercilessly inflicted.
 
Patode’s lips curled into a smug smirk as he cast a glance at Namrata, a wicked glint flashing in his eyes. "You’re gonna love what I’m about to do next," he said, his tone thick with amusement and promise. Then, with deliberate slowness, he turned his attention back to Shipra.
 
Without warning, he seized her wrists, pinning them tightly behind her back, his grip firm and unyielding. A dark chuckle rumbled from his throat as he drove himself into her with brutal intensity, each thrust deep and merciless. Shipra let out a choked whimper, the sharp edge of pleasure and pain fusing together in a dizzying, mind-numbing high. Her body shuddered with each powerful stroke, her senses teetering on the brink of oblivion.


 
"Do you want me to have mercy and let you cum, Shipra?" Patode’s voice was a low, tantalizing whisper against her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine.
 
"Yes... Unghhhhhhhhh… Yes, yes… please, Patode," she moaned, her words barely coherent, slurred with need and desperation.
 
His smirk deepened, his grip on her wrists tightening as he suddenly stilled, his cock buried deep but unmoving. Shipra whimpered, her body instinctively grinding against him, chasing the friction he had cruelly stolen away.
 
"How desperate are you?" Patode taunted, his voice laced with arrogance. "Are you ready to prove your commitment to me? To us?"
 
His words dripped with condescension, each syllable designed to pull her deeper into his control. Shipra squirmed, frustration clawing at her insides as she tried to move, but his iron grip held her firmly in place.
 
"Noooooo!! Don't stopppp," she cried out in agony, her body aching for release. "I’ll do anything… just let me cum… Anything you say… I’m yours, Patode… I’m committed to you, to this… Don’t torture me… I can’t take it anymore," she babbled, her voice breaking as she rocked her hips in a desperate attempt to fill the unbearable void he had left.
 
A slow, sinister smile stretched across Patode’s face. Amusement flickered in his eyes as he finally released her wrists, his hands sliding down to her waist. But instead of granting her the release she so desperately craved, he shifted, tightening his grip around her hips before rising to his feet in one fluid motion.

Shipra gasped as he lifted her effortlessly, her body still impaled on his cock as he stood. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, clinging to him for support as her legs dangled slightly before hooking around his waist. The sudden change in position sent a new wave of sensations coursing through her, making her moan helplessly.

Patode turned towards the door, his movements slow, deliberate, his expression one of absolute control. He glanced back, his gaze locked onto Namrata, who had been watching in silence, her breath hitching at the scene unfolding before her.

"You don’t want to miss this," Patode said, his voice more of a command than an invitation.

Namrata both curious and concerned with what more degradation Patode had in mind for Shipra, got up and followed them without a word. She knew Patode was a dominating man who loved bending women to his will but the cruelty and roughness he displayed today not only fascinated her but also unsettled her in equal measure.

Following them she expected him to carry Shipra to the couch—the same place where he had taken them both the previous night, their bodies tangled in a mess of sin and surrender.

But instead, he moved toward the door.

A cold realization settled in Namrata’s chest as she followed them, her pulse quickening. It didn’t take long to understand his intentions, and the sheer audacity of his depravity sent a shiver through her.

Patode pressed Shipra against the wall beside the exit door, his firm grip holding her in place as he resumed his slow, torturous thrusts. His cock drove into her in steady, deliberate strokes, each movement keeping her suspended on the brink of an orgasm that remained just out of reach. Shipra’s breath came in ragged gasps, her body twitching with need, the pleasure so close yet cruelly withheld.

Patode leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he murmured, "It’s time to give you the orgasm you so desperately crave, Shipra."

His hand slid down to the doorknob, and with a wicked smirk, he twisted it open.

The door swung wide, exposing the dimly lit front yard beyond. The cool night air swept in, brushing against Shipra’s sweat-slicked skin, and with it came a chilling realization—the full depravity of what Patode intended next. A sharp jolt of awareness cut through the intoxicating fog of pleasure that had dulled her senses. Her body went rigid, her breath hitching in her throat as her wide, startled eyes darted toward him.

“No… no, Patode…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, fragile and uncertain. The protest felt weak even to her own ears, swallowed by the raw, aching pleasure that pulsed through her. He was still inside her, still moving, each relentless thrust sending another sinful ripple of ecstasy through her overstimulated body. She gasped, clinging to the last threads of reason, struggling against the delicious haze that threatened to consume her again.

“This is… this is going too far…” she stammered, her breath ragged. “It’s too risky… someone could see…” A shudder ran through her, part fear, part unbidden excitement. “Please… just take me inside… you can fuck me all you want… all night if you have to, but…”

“Shhh…” Patode hushed her, pressing his fingers firmly against her trembling lips. His thrusts never faltered, slow and torturous, drawing out every sensation as if savoring her helplessness. His dark eyes bore into hers, filled with something dangerous—possessive, unyielding.

“I thought you were willing to prove your commitment to us,” he murmured, his voice deceptively soft, laced with a quiet dominance that made Shipra’s stomach coil with a mix of fear and reluctant arousal.

“I am… I swear I am,” she gasped, her voice barely steady. “But this… it’s too risky, Patode. What if someone sees us? I’ll be ruined! My life—”

A wave of panic surged through her. The thought of being seen, of being exposed like this, naked and wanton under the dim glow of the open doorway, sent her pulse skyrocketing.

Patode’s grip tightened suddenly, his fingers tangling in her hair as he wrenched her head back. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, and her spine arched involuntarily as a shiver of fear ran through her. His expression darkened, his voice dropping into something cruel and menacing.

“Listen, bitch,” he growled, his tone cutting through her rising panic. “Not too long ago, I saved you from losing your so-called modesty in the worst way possible. Or have you forgotten already?” His expression turned dominating. “If it weren’t for me, a filthy video of you being sandwitched by those two bastards would’ve been circulating on every damn phone by now.” His fingers in her hair yanked harder, forcing her to look up at him. “Do you really think I went through all that trouble just to destroy your reputation myself?”

“No… no, it’s not that, Patode,” Shipra whimpered, her voice shaky, her body betraying her fear even as it still reacted to his touch. “I trust you, I do. But ask Namrata! She’ll tell you… she’ll also agree that this is too much!” Desperation seeped into her tone, her last attempt to appeal to reason.

Patode chuckled then, low and mocking, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “Namrata?” He scoffed, his voice dripping with amusement. “That bitch is enjoying every second of this,” he continued, his laugh cold and condescending. “You wouldn’t even be here like this if it weren’t for her. She’s the one who pushed you into being a filthy little slut. Hell, she even slapped you to make sure you’d give in. Think about it.”

Shipra’s stomach twisted violently as her gaze shifted, moving past Patode’s shoulder toward Namrata. Her heart pounded in her chest, every beat echoing louder than the last.

Namrata stood frozen, her face pale, her eyes refusing to meet Shipra’s. The weight of the accusation hung heavy in the air, suffocating, undeniable.

“But you won’t hold it against her, will you? After all, because of her, you finally have a real man in your life,” Patode murmured, his voice smooth and intoxicating. His dark eyes bore into hers, seeing past her feeble protests, stripping her of any illusion of resistance.

“So forget everything else, Shipra,” he coaxed, his lips grazing her ear. “Let me give you the first of many orgasms tonight.”

A shudder ran through her as his fingers trailed down her quivering body, tracing every inch with slow, possessive intent. “Besides, who are you trying to fool?” he continued, his smirk deepening. “We both know you’re too far into this to back out now, too desperate for release to stop.” His touch grew bolder, teasing, pushing her closer to the edge. “You’d do anything for that climax—anything. Tell me if I am wrong.”

Shipra shivered at his words, caught in a tormenting dilemma. It was a tug-of-war—her body, aching with unfulfilled desire, writhed in desperate need for a release Patode had cruelly withheld. Yet, her mind reeled, alarm bells ringing at the sheer recklessness of his proposition

Throughout the evening, Patode had relentlessly pushed her beyond every limit she once believed was unbreakable, shattering one moral boundary after another. He had degraded her, stripped her of dignity, treated her like nothing more than a cheap, disposable slut—a toy for his amusement. And yet, she had not merely endured it—she had embraced it with every fiber of her being. She had surrendered to the debauchery, not under the effect of alcohol or any aphrodisiac this time, but as a willing participant, reveling in the filth, in the humiliation, in the sheer depravity of it all.

But now, with the dark promise of release hanging between them, she found herself on the precipice of yet another unthinkable act. The idea of being utterly exposed, of surrendering to him outside the confines of secrecy, where anyone could stumble upon them, sent a violent surge of arousal through her veins. To be fucked like an animal, in full view of the world, their bodies tangled in the reckless heat of sin—it was obscene, it was dangerous, and yet it made her ache with a need so intense it bordered on madness. She could feel her own wetness dripping down her thighs, a silent confession her lips refused to utter.

And still, she couldn’t bring herself to deny it. Nor could she bring herself to accept it—not fully, not aloud. Because to say it, to admit just how far she had fallen, would strip away the last fragile illusion of restraint she clung to. And that, perhaps more than anything, was the only sin she wasn’t yet ready to commit.

And so, she remained silent, letting the moment hang thick between them, charged with unspoken consent and dark surrender. She didn't resist, didn’t fight, but neither did she voice her acceptance. Instead, she allowed Patode to be the one to pull her deeper into the abyss, to strip away the last remnants of her restraint. Because deep down, she knew the truth—she lacked the strength to take that final step herself.

“That's what I thought,” Patode smirked. “And there is no need to worry Shipra. It will be yet another wild, unforgettable experience—one that will leave you breathless. Imagine it, Shipra.” His lips brushed her ear, sending a pulse of heat through her. “Under the open sky, exposed to the night, knowing that at any moment, someone could see you surrendering to me.” He chuckled darkly. “I know you’ll enjoy it far more than you think.”

And with that, his hands gripped her ass as he stepped back pulling her away from the wall. A gasp escaped her as he crushed his lips against hers, swallowing her hesitation in a deep, claiming kiss. His tongue dominated hers, demanding, possessive, until she was left dizzy and weak in his hold.

Then, without breaking stride, he turned and carried her toward the open lawn—toward the thrill of reckless abandon beneath the stars.

Continued to the next post.....

[Suraj76626]

Continued from the last post....

"Hey man, where are your bodyguards?" Chetan joked, raising an eyebrow as he and Bhiva took their seat in the tea shop near the bus stand. It was a playful jab at Bhiva, as he always had a group of loyal sidekicks, men who followed him around like shadows, whether out of respect, fear or just to look cool.

Bhiva scoffed, signaling the tea vendor for a cup. "Come on, Chetan bro, you’re the real big shot here. The future collector of Ambruj," he shot back with a grin, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Both knew the truth—Chetan had never been serious about his studies. He had spent the last few years in Pune, living off his father’s money, partying, and chasing fleeting pleasures in the name of preparing for competitive exams. The idea of him as a ‘collector’ was laughable.

"Nice one," Chetan chuckled, shaking his head at their long-standing habit of ribbing each other. It had been a while since they last met, and despite the passage of time, their dynamic remained unchanged. "It’s good to see you, Bhiva. How have you been?" he asked, his tone casual yet genuinely curious.

"Same old," Bhiva shrugged, taking his first sip of the scalding tea. "So your father finally managed to reign you in. How come you accepted to work in this shitty town?" He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. "And what about that hotty you were screwing in Pune? Huh?"

Chetan’s jaw tightened slightly at the mention of his ex. He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he stared at the ripples in his tea. "Let’s not talk about that cheating bitch," he muttered, his voice laced with underlying anger. "That gold digger found some other loser to mooch off." He took another sip, his fingers tightening around the glass. "As for the coming back… well, you know me. Studying was never my thing. It was only a matter of time before I ended up back here. Father is getting old and he needed me to handle the business now. So, here I am."

Bhiva’s expression darkened momentarily before a dangerous glint flickered in his eyes. "You want me to take care of that bitch for you?" he asked, his voice suddenly devoid of humor. "Just say the word, Chetan bro. I’ll make sure she and her new sugar daddy regret ever messing with you." His fingers tapped rhythmically against the wooden bench as if already planning out the details.

Chetan chuckled, shaking his head as he waved his hand dismissively. "Relax, man. She’s not worth it. Anyway, what about you? Still playing pet to that motherfucker Patode?"

Bhiva leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. "Suit yourself," he said, though his tone suggested he wouldn’t hesitate if Chetan changed his mind.

After a moment, he furrowed his brows. "But tell me something—why the hell don’t you like Patode bhau? He’s a reputed man and always has been good to me," he added, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness.

Chetan exhaled, tilting his head slightly. "I don’t know, man. Sometimes you just don’t like a person for no particular reason," he admitted, swirling the last bit of tea in his glass. "But that guy… he gives me bad vibes. Something about him feels… off. And don't be so naive, Bhiva—men like Patode, aren’t anyone’s ‘bhau’ or ‘friend.’ They live for their own gain, and the moment you’re no longer useful, they’ll toss you aside like garbage. Reputed my ass. If I were you, I wouldn’t be so trusting."

Bhiva let out a loud laugh, waving off Chetan’s concerns. "No wonder your girl left you. You’re so negative man!" he joked, elbowing him in the ribs.

They both laughed out loud enjoying themselves while they caught up with each other.

Chetan stood up, stretching his arms. "Come on, just tea won’t do. Let’s get a real drink."

Bhiva’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "Now you’re talking! Let's go". He flicked a few rupees onto the tea stall’s counter before leading the way to his bike.

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

The distant howls of stray dogs echoed through the quiet streets of Ambruj, mingling with the low hum of vehicles passing through the empty roads. It was well past 8, and the small town had already begun its descent into the hush of the night. Houses were cloaked in darkness, their occupants retreating into sleep, unaware of the sinful act unfolding in the open air of Patode’s lawn.
 
Beneath the vast, starlit sky, Shipra lay sprawled on the rough wooden cot, stripped bare, her sweat-slicked body writhing under the relentless weight of Patode. The air was thick with the muffled sounds of her moans—desperate, broken whimpers swallowed by the firm press of his calloused hand over her mouth. His other hand gripped her wrist, pinning it above her head, holding her captive beneath him.
 
His body, heavy with dominance, moved with brutal precision, hips driving forward in an unrelenting, merciless rhythm. His cock plunged deep inside her drenched pussy, each thrust sending fresh waves of wet, obscene squelches into the night air. Sweat dripped from his heaving chest, mingling with hers, their bodies colliding in raw, primal hunger.


 
Shipra was drowning in pure, unfiltered ecstasy. Her legs were spread wide, raised straight up, trembling in the air as Patode drove into her with unrelenting force. Each thrust sent a shockwave through her overstimulated body, his thick length stretching her, filling her completely, pushing her closer to a climax so intense it made her toes curl.
 
Patode's open lawn was filled with the scent of sweat and sin, the wooden cot beneath her creaking in rhythm with his brutal pace. Her body had long since surrendered to him, responding with feverish desperation to every punishing stroke. The constant arousal, the agonizing hour of teasing, the cruel denial of release—it had all built to this moment. And now, with the added, perverse thrill of being taken so shamelessly in the open—by a man who wasn’t her husband, no less—Shipra felt a soul-shattering pleasure that defied anything she had ever felt or even imagined.
 
Patode’s breath was hot against her ear as he leaned in, his lips curled into a wicked smirk. "You still want me to stop and head back?" he taunted, his voice laced with mockery as he picked up his pace, driving into her even harder and removed his hand from her mouth.
 
With deliberate cruelty, he removed his hand from her mouth, giving her the chance to speak—though he already knew the truth.
 
"Fuckkkkkkk.....Noooooooo...... Keep going.... I am so close..... Fuck me harder you bastard"
 
Shipra’s entire body jolted at the intensified thrusts. Her head thrashed against the cot, her eyes rolling back as she screamed in pleasure, no longer giving a damn about the risk or shame of the perverted act.


 
Patode chuckled darkly at the sight of her—completely undone, utterly submissive, trapped in the pleasure he was mercilessly forcing upon her. "What if someone walks on us, Shipra?" Patode teased.


 
"I don't give a fuck... Just keep going... Oh Godddddd.... Ohhh my Godddddd.... don't you dare stop now!" Her eyes locked onto his, fierce and unyielding as if daring him to deny her. Her legs tightened around his hips, locking him in place, ensuring he couldn't pull away-not now, not when she was so close to the edge.
 
Patode let out a low, condescending laugh. "Just a moment ago, you dreaded the idea of a little outdoor fun," he mocked, his voice dripping with amusement. "And now, listen to yourself—moaning like a wanton little slut, ready to put on a show for any perverted stranger who happens to stumble upon us. I wonder, Shipra, is it the danger that excites you? The thought of being watched, of some stranger standing in the shadows, stroking himself to the sight of you so shamelessly coming apart under me?"
 
His fingers dug into her hips, holding her still as he drove into her harder, making her feel every punishing inch of his dominance.
 
"And you know what wouldn’t surprise me?" he continued, his voice thick with dark amusement. "If some filthy bastard were to step right up, unzip his pants, and shove his cock into that eager little mouth of yours. I bet you'd take him without hesitation, wouldn’t you, Shipra?"
 
Shipra’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut as she surrendered completely. She didn’t have the words to deny him. Didn’t even have the will to. Not when every nerve in her body was screaming for release. Not when he was pushing her right to the edge of oblivion.
 
"You’d love it, wouldn’t you?" he pressed, his grip tightening, his rhythm merciless. "Being used. Being seen. Being nothing more than a hungry, needy little slut, desperate for whatever she's given."
 
His words were meant to humiliate her, to remind her of how far she'd fallen, but Shipra was beyond shame. The pleasure was too intense, too all-consuming, and she could feel herself teetering on the brink of release.
 
"Shut up," she hissed, her voice trembling but fierce. "Just... shut the fuck up Patode. I don't care who sees... I don't care about anything but this." Her words were a desperate plea, a raw admission of her need, and Patode's smirk widened as he obliged, driving her closer and closer to the edge until she shattered. 
 
The depraved image he had painted lingered in her mind, wicked and forbidden, feeding the fire that burned in her core. It pushed her past the limits of control, past the edge of reason, until suddenly—she shattered.


 
A sharp gasp tore from her lips, her entire body seizing as the orgasm ripped through her with a force so intense it was almost unbearable. It started deep inside her, a wildfire of pleasure that spread like an unstoppable wave, consuming her. Her legs began to tremble violently, her thighs clamping around him as if trying to hold onto something, anything, while her world spun out of control. Her breath hitched, her jaw clenched tight, her head tilted back as her eyes rolled into her skull, lost to the sheer, mind-numbing ecstasy.


 
Her entire body convulsed beneath him, trapped in the relentless aftershocks of her climax. Jolt after jolt of unbearable pleasure surged from her thoroughly fucked, overstimulated cunt, shooting through her veins like white-hot electricity. Her hips bucked wildly, beyond her control, as her hands thrashed against the wooden cot, fingers clawing at nothing. Every muscle in her body tensed at once, locking up for a few agonizing, exquisite seconds, her body betraying her in its desperate attempt to process the intensity of her release. It felt like she was shattering, unraveling, breaking apart under the sheer force of it all.
 


And then—she let go.
 
Her tightly held moans finally broke free, morphing into a strangled cry that was half outrage, half undeniable, reckless pleasure.
 
"I’m cummmmingggggg… ohhhh Godddddd… Fuck! Fuck! Fuckkkkkkkkkkkk!"
 
The words tore from her throat, raw and unrestrained, echoing into the night without a single care for who might hear. She didn’t care if someone was watching. She didn’t care if her shameless cries reached unwanted ears. She didn’t care about modesty, about dignity, about the person she had once been before this moment. Right now, nothing else mattered.
 
Not the risk.
 
Not the consequences.
 
Not the wicked things she had allowed herself to feel.
 
All that mattered was this. This climax. This freedom. This surrender. This overwhelming, soul-shaking ecstasy that she had denied herself for far too long.

End of Chapter 30: An Illusion of Escape: Part 3 

[Victorjohnson]

Nice update... This update was clas comparing previous week update...

[madiha.agarwal]

Finally got a chance to read your stories.. I'm unable to use my phone due to company firewall restrictions.. that's why I wasn't able to even update my own stories...

Looking at the number of replies you are doing a great job and looks like you are making it a saga...

Not sure how your readers might feel if shipra gets violated by toppo after you have established her character well And made them feel for her

[Vinty03]

It's tooo hot to handle ....very very good update with gif.

[Dhanapal]

Wow, This is top class stuff, Now it is sure that Patode is making bigger and more evil plans as he is now corrupting Shipra's mind as well and convincing her that she is nothing more than a cheap whore thereby making her get that orgasm, so the day is not far when Shipra will spread her legs to others.

[Umavictor32]

But one thing is that...
Shipra is just reacting to patode..
I wish in next episode, shipra is speak and degrade herself by her own...
Because in this whole update we can still see shipra has not broken completely like namrata as she calls patode bastard... So tat shd change...