Misc. Erotica My Mistake and My Wife’s Gangbang on Our Honeymoon

[chodn_khanki]

The constable who was speaking to me left and joined Rajesh and his friends, who began a conversation. Dev then took out his mobile and started playing a video he had recorded in my honeymoon suite bed. After two minutes of playback, he paused it and shared the video with the constable via Bluetooth. They then began discussing uploading the video, and Mohit informed him of something. The constable subsequently approached me and asked if I had Chaitali's phone. While I was retrieving the phone from my pocket, I inquired what they intended to do with her phone. Mohit then stepped forward and explained that they wanted to use her phone to upload all the videos they had taken, so that the security officer could charge Chaitali with prostitution and filming porn. I handed her the phone and the password. Mohit took the phone and started transferring two videos onto it, and I couldn't see what else he was doing after that. Now his back is facing me. Then the senior constable asked the junior constable to initiate the process of lodging complaints against Chaitali. He opened a drawer and brought a large, ruled notebook, General Diary. Seeing that, the senior constable shouted at him and said that Rajesh Sir wanted to lodge a formal complaint so that it would result in an FIR. He continued, 'After one week, we will inform the court that she is absconding, and we can add an additional charge against her.'  Then the other one said, 'Sir, a lot of people saw that we have dragged her by the leash to the place station. If the court asks about that?' I am shocked by the last sentence, these two security officer officers came on a bike and they pulled Chaitali by the leash through a public street. The Senior Constable barked at his junior with a slang, 'She escaped from the security officer station, do we have a cellar? No right, so we will tell the court that when we are transferring her to the main branch, she escaped. Understood, you fool.' He brought another diary and started writing the complaints.

Meanwhile, 15 minutes passed, and I began to worry about Chaitali, wondering what she was doing. The rest of the people completely ignored my presence, and I couldn't understand my purpose for coming. Then I saw Chaitali coming running with her mouth closed but a quite satisfying expression on her face. She went directly towards Rajesh, turned around, got on her knees, and held a packet of gutkha in her hand, which cuffed back. Then she turned back again and faced them now, and opened her mouth which is full of cum. Rajesh's face glowed with happiness, making Chaitali an obedient slave. Then Rajesh instructed her to drink it completely, and she did it immediately. Rajesh patted her head in the way one would appreciate their dog. Then Rajesh started opening his zipper and asked Chaitali to open her mouth,  once she did, yellow stream of piss started flowing into her mouth and she started gulping it hungrily. Once it finished, she put her mouth around the dick and cleaned it properly. Then she said, "Sir, I have drank too much piss, my bluder is full, can I go to pee?" Then the senior constable jumped in and ordered her to go outside to pee on the roadside drain. She stood up and started walking outside without any discomfort. 

[anjali]

Super update

[chodn_khanki]

Chaitali stepped outside, her eyes fixed on the auto-rickshaw driver like a succulent piece of meat ready for devouring. He pulled her by the leash, his grubby hands grasping her wrists like a perverted lover. She didn't put up much resistance, her body swaying to and fro as she followed him to the side of the building, her legs trembling with anticipation.

The driver's hands roamed freely over Chaitali's body, caressing her tits like they were ripe melons waiting to be plucked. He squeezed them hard, making her moan in pleasure, and then his fingers slid down to her pussy, tracing circles around her clitoris like a madman trying to unlock the secrets of the universe.
Chaitali didn't protest as he fingered her cunt, her body writhing in ecstasy like a cat in heat. The driver's face was contorted with lust, his eyes glued to Chaitali's pussy like a thirsty man staring at an oasis in the desert. He leaned in close, his hot breath washing over her skin, and whispered filthy words in her ear, making her giggle like a collegegirl.
As I watched this depraved scene unfold before me, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Chaitali seemed to be enjoying herself, her body relaxed and open, like a flower blooming in the sun. Chaitali sat in front of him and started peeing, that lewd guy is observing me to pee. She stand up, the driver's hand slid out of her pussy, and he brought it up to his face, licking off the drops of piss that had accumulated there.

Chaitali stormed back into the room, leaving the driver staring after her like a lovesick puppy. She crossed me without even acknowledging my presence, her body still quivering with desire.
As she entered the room, Chaitali spotted Rajesh and made a beeline for him, dropping to her knees like a dog begging for scraps. I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine as I witnessed this depraved display of lust and desire. It was like watching a train wreck – you knew it was wrong, but you couldn't look away.

Then the constable explained her that they have registered a complaint against her for prostitution and filming porn and circulating. Now, it’s time for Chaitali to surprise. She denied it by nodding her head. She cried out, “Please don’t register any complaint, I’ll do whatever you say. You punished me in the middle of the road, made me do 1000 sit-ups, and dragged me through the road. I didn’t put much resistance. Please don’t register it.”

The constable's face turned beet red with rage as he bellowed, "You think a few sit-ups and a drag through the road will break you? You're not even scratched yet, Chaitali! You need to be broken into tiny pieces, like the fragile little slut you are!"

Rajesh Sir chuckled at this and said, "Ah, I see what you mean. Let's really teach her how to be a real prostitute. Make her suck my cock while I film it and distribute it online."

The constable's eyes lit up with excitement as he pulled out his phone and began filming Chaitali, who was now on her knees, sucking Rajesh Sir's cock like a starving dog. The sound of their slurping and gagging filled the air as they made filthy comments about each other's bodies.

Chaitali's eyes darted between the two men, her face twisted in a mixture of fear and excitement. She knew she was in grave danger, but at the same time, she couldn't help but feel a thrill run through her veins at the thought of being used and abused by these two perverts.

The constable was now inserting his fingers into Chaitali's cunt while Rajesh Sir continued to fuck her mouth. They were both making filthy comments about her body, calling her a "dirty little slut" and a "cunt-whore".

Rajesh Sir cummed on her face, which is also being recorded. Then the constable rubbed some powder to Chaitali’s pussy and ass. Within a minute, she started swaying. I could not understand what happened.  The constable's eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure as he watched Chaitali squirm and writhe in agony, her private parts covered in a fine white powder that seemed to be driving her mad.

"Ah, yes," he cackled. "This is the special brand of itching powder I like to use on my little whores. It's a real treat for them, isn't it?"

Rajesh Sir chuckled and patted Chaitali on the head, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Yes, Constable, you're a genius. I think we can really break her now."

The constable smiled, a cold, calculating smile that sent shivers down my spine. "Oh, yes. I think we can make her beg for mercy. And then... and then we'll take it to the next level."

He turned to Rajesh Sir and whispered something in his ear. I couldn't quite catch what he said, but it sounded like something filthy.

Rajesh Sir nodded, a look of excitement on his face. "Ah, yes. That's exactly what we need. More pain, more pleasure... more degradation."

And with that, they began to prepare the next phase of their sadistic game. I watched in horror as they tied Chaitali to the window, her hands still cuffed behind her back. She was helpless, at their mercy.

Mohit reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of liquid. "Time for the next step," he said, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure.

And then, I saw it. A small needle, filled with a clear liquid that seemed to glow in the dim light of the room. The constable injected it into Chaitali's arm, and she let out a scream of agony.
"What is it?" I asked, my voice shaking with fear.

Mohit grinned at me. "Just a little something I like to call 'Ecstasy'. It'll make her feel like she's floating on air... and then we'll take it away from her."

I watched in horror as Chaitali began to convulse, her body writhing in agony. The constable and Rajesh Sir laughed and joked with each other, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

And I was trapped, unable to move or escape.

[chodn_khanki]

Chaitali's skin was on fire, the urge to scratch her ass and pussy was becoming unbearable. She had tried to resist, but now she was begging for release, her voice shaking with desperation.


"Please," she whispered, "let me scratch my pussy." The constable nodded, a sly smile spreading across his face as he continued filming her humiliation. Mohit is eagerly waiting for giving the injection to her and make her a cum dump. Rajesh Sir nodded her head in approval. Then the junior constable came forward and freed her hands.

As Chaitali's hands were freed, she didn't hesitate for a second. She began scratching her ass and pussy with abandon, the relief washing over her like a wave. The sound of her own moans filled the air as she finally gave in to the itching, her body writhing in ecstasy. She was completely lost in the sensation, her mind consumed by the pleasure that was coursing through her veins.

The junior constable approached her with a bottle of water, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Clean up, Chaitali," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Chaitali went outside, cleaned herself, and came back in a few minutes. The constable asked her whether she was ready to accept her crimes and make a confession video. She agreed. Rajesh Sir signed the FIR complaint, and the junior constable asked Chaitali to stand straight and gave her a black burka-like robe without a head cover. They gave her a whiteboard on which her name, age, and sex were written. They started recording her statement -

"State your crimes," he said, his voice firm but not unkind.

Chaitali took a deep breath, her eyes still cast down at the ground. "I... I have committed the crime of prostitution." She paused, her chest heaving with emotion.

"And I have also committed the crime of roaming nude in public places," she whispered.

The constable raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Tell me more about that."

Chaitali took another deep breath before continuing. "I like it when people watch me. I like it when they see me naked and helpless." Her voice was barely above a whisper now, but the words hung in the air like a challenge.

The constable's eyes narrowed as he scribbled some notes on his pad. "And what about your videos?" he asked, his tone suddenly cold.

Chaitali's face flushed with shame. "I... I have uploaded them to the internet," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the camera's motor.

The constable's eyes widened in shock as he looked up at Chaitali. "Tell me more about that."
Chaitali took another deep breath before continuing. "I like it when people watch me on the internet. I like it when they see me naked and helpless, just like they do in real life." Her voice was barely above a whisper now, but the words hung in the air like a challenge.

The constable's face was expressionless as he continued to write down her confession.
"I have also committed the crime of being a filthy whore," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

I can see Chaitali's face as it contorted in shame. She was still wearing the black burka-like robe, but it seemed to be suffocating her, crushing her under its weight.

"I have committed many crimes," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "I am a prostitute. I am a filthy whore."

The camera stopped recording, and the room fell silent. Chaitali knew she was in grave danger, but she couldn't move.

Rajesh Sir nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Yes, I think that's enough for today."

Chaitali felt a sense of relief wash over her, but it was short-lived. Rajesh Sir continued, his voice dripping with malice.

"Rajesh Sir can take his pet anywhere he wants, do whatever he wants. Now she is absconding and a security officer-registered criminal." The constable paused, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.

And then, it happened. Rajesh Sir started dragging her away, using the leash; she is on her four.
As they passed me, Rajesh Sir looked at me and chuckled, a cruel smile spreading across his face. He handed me a piece of paper with an address written in bold letters.

"What is this?" I asked, my heart racing with fear.

"This is where you can find your wife," Rajesh Sir said, his voice dripping with malice. "She's now a security officer-registered criminal. She needs a hiding place. I am kind enough to give. Thank me later."

I looked down at the paper, my eyes widening in horror as I realised what was happening. It was an address to some farmhouse, and I knew that Chaitali was in grave danger.

"What will happen to her?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Rajesh Sir just laughed, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "You'll find out soon enough," he said, before turning back to the constable.

I stood there, frozen in horror, as I realised the true extent of Rajesh Sir's plans.

[chodn_khanki]

They all sat in the car parked outside and had momentarily vanished from sight, leaving me momentarily stunned. Then I was about to walk away from the security officer station. The senior constable beckoned me inside. My heart thundered in my chest as I moved towards him, my gaze cast downward, eyes avoiding the knowing smirk that played upon his lips. His voice was a low, seductive purr when he posed his question, "How does it feel to witness your wife, a woman whose every curve is etched into the very fabric of your soul, being treated as a prized possession?"


I stood frozen, my mind reeling with a torrent of emotions. I had expected anger and a desire for vengeance, but instead, I found myself strangely intrigued, even aroused. A wild, carnal hunger stirred deep within me, urging me to claim Chaitali, to make her mine in a way that would transcend the boundaries of societal norms.

The constable chuckled softly, sensing my turmoil. He withdrew his phone, pressing play on a video that had haunted my dreams ever since I first caught a glimpse of it hours ago. The screen flickered to life, illuminating Chaitali's lithe form as she stood at the bottom of a deserted footbridge, her body glistening under the broad daylight. A collar adorned her delicate neck, and a leash attached to it trailed behind her as she obeyed the unseen commands of her master. Her eyes were wide with submission, her hips swaying seductively as she executed each command. She was nude, every inch of her flawless skin exposed to the elements, yet she carried herself with a grace that only Chaitali could possess. Her ears were ringed with tiny silver bells, and her collar had been engraved with BITCH“ - a testament to her submission.

A small crowd, with 3/4 of the people, had gathered around her, their eyes hungry as they watched her perform a series of provocative exercises, sit-ups. Each time she rose, she barked, "I am a bitch, I am a whore, please use me." Each time she is sitting, whoever is taking the video is kicking her pussy, causing her to cry out in pleasure. Her body convulsed, and I could see her eyes flutter shut as waves of ecstasy coursed through her.

The constable's laughter filled the room, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and admiration. "Look at her," he sneered, "She's nothing more than a shameless whore, isn't she?" A fire ignited within me, fueled by the jealousy that coursed through my veins, but I knew deep down that Chaitali was in control, that this was a part of her I had never before glimpsed.

I was about to return the phone, but then the constable stopped me, asked me to watch more, and the ending proved to be more interesting. It’s a 20-minute-long video; he moved the progress bar to the middle. Now, I can see that there are 6 out of 7 onlookers, but Chaitali is shameless. Again the videographer kicked her pussy, this time she couldn’t control, She collapsed onto the ground, spreading her legs wide. A white river of liquid flowed from her quivering core, staining the cold concrete beneath her as she climaxed in front of an audience that seemed to grow with each passing moment. I watched, transfixed, as my wife surrendered herself to the raw, primal lust that coursed through her veins. 

The constable's laughter filled the room gain, "She's a road side bitch". The video continued to play, as I watched my wife surrender herself entirely to this twisted game.

Then he received a call from someone, and left his seat. As I sat in the dimly lit security officer station, my heart thundered in my chest as I awaited the constable's return. I could feel my mind racing, my fingers twitching nervously as I waited for him to come back with the answers I so desperately needed.

When he finally returned after five long minutes, his face was sombre, and he handed me a phone without a word. It was Chaitali's mobile, its screen blank and lifeless. My stomach churned with anger and fear as I realised what this meant - the constable had taken control of her device, and with it, access to all of her secrets.

"I'm going to keep your wife's mobile in custody," he said coldly, "and these, along with a few more videos, will be uploaded from her phone, so that all the charges can be attributed to her." I felt my heart sink as I dared not protest, knowing full well that my silence was my only hope for protecting Chaitali.

The constable then told me to wait there for 30 minutes and disappeared, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Minutes stretched into hours as I sat in the cold, sterile room, my mind racing with a million different scenarios. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he returned, holding out a blank piece of paper towards me.

Without much question, I signed it, knowing that I had no choice if I wanted to protect Chaitali from whatever horrors the constable had in store for her. Then, as I prepared to leave, he stopped me once more, his voice dripping with amusement.

"It will take some time for them to reach," he said, "as they just finished tattooing Chaitali." This new horror sent shivers down my spine, filling me with a fear and despair that threatened to
overwhelm me completely. I knew that whatever was happening to her now, it would be beyond anything I could imagine.

And as I left the security officer station, my heart heavy with dread and anger, I couldn't help but wonder - what new horrors awaited Chaitali.

[anjali]

Super update. Please try to expand

[chodn_khanki]

I was walking towards the auto-rickshaw, lost in thought, when the vibration of my phone suddenly overshadowed me. A notification from WhatsApp flashed on the screen: a video from an unknown number. My heart pounded in my chest as I swiped to unlock the device, my fingers trembling with anticipation.


I pressed play, and the scene unfolded before my eyes. A woman, her body bare and glistening with sweat, knelt on the cold, hard floor. Her movements were slow, deliberate, and filled with an intoxicating mix of shame and pleasure. As the camera panned closer, I recognised her—Chaitali. Her eyes were half-lidded, her lips parted in a silent moan as she lapped up the thick, whitish liquid from the floor.

A leash was tucked around her neck, pulling her head up. My breath hitched as I took in the sight of her. Bold, red letters were tattooed across her forehead, spelling out "SLUT" in a stark, unmistakable declaration. On her right cheek, the words "cum dump" were inked, an arrow pointing towards her mouth. Her left cheek bore the words "Public toilet," another arrow directing attention to her lips. Around her mouth, the word "WHORE" was split, with "WH" on one side and "RE" on the other, her mouth forming the "O." A drop of cum glistened on her lip, and she wore a naughty smile, her eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and satisfaction.
The sight sent a chill down my spine, a heady mix of shock and arousal coursing through my veins. The video was raw, unfiltered, and intensely erotic. It was a scene of submission and degradation, yet there was an undeniable allure to it. Chaitali's eyes met the camera, and for a moment, it felt as if she was looking straight at me, inviting me into her world of forbidden pleasure.

As the video ended, I was left with a whirlwind of emotions, my mind racing with vivid imagery. The city's noise seemed to fade away, leaving me in a bubble of intense, perverse fascination. The memory of Chaitali's naughty smile and the bold tattoos branding her skin lingered, etching itself into my thoughts.
As the auto-rickshaw rattled through the dusty roads, memories of Chaitali's moans and the driver's rough hands on her body flooded my mind. The driver, oblivious to my identity, hummed a tune, his mind far from the lewd acts he had committed. The farmhouse was an hour away, and the growling of my stomach reminded me that it was already 7 o'clock.

We pulled over at a nearby Dhaba, a small eatery bustling with life. The aroma of spices and sizzling food filled the air, making my mouth water. I quickly ordered some food and found a seat, my mind still preoccupied with thoughts of Chaitali.

While waiting for the food, I noticed four young workers huddled together, their voices low and conspiratorial. They were engrossed in a video on one of their phones, their faces flushed with excitement. Unable to contain my curiosity, I rose to wash my hands, casually making my way closer to them.

As I passed by, I glanced at the screen, and my eyes widened in shock and arousal. The video showed a dimly lit Dhaba, likely the same place they are now. Three men sat on a cot, their plates heaped with food, their eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them. On the ground, Chaitali knelt, her body completely bare, her knees folded beneath her. Her hands were tied behind her back, rendering her helpless and exposed.

She was eating from a bowl on the floor, her mouth working like a dog's, her movements desperate and hungry. The men on the cot watched her with a mix of amusement and lust, their eyes gleaming with dark desire. One of them occasionally tossed a morsel of food towards her, laughing as she scrambled to catch it in her mouth.

The sight was both degrading and intensely erotic. Chaitali's body glistened with sweat, her breasts swaying with each movement, her nipples hard and erect. Her eyes were downcast, her expression a mix of shame and arousal. The men's crude comments and laughter filled the air, adding to the perverse atmosphere.  As the video continued, one of the men stood up and unzipped his pants, but not to release his erection. Instead, he positioned himself over Chaitali's bowl, his cock in hand. The others laughed, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. Chaitali looked up, her expression a mix of dread and submission.

A stream of urine splashed into the bowl, the sound of it hitting the metal echoing in the blank. Chaitali flinched but remained still, her body trembling. The other men followed suit, their streams adding to the mix in the bowl. The liquid sloshed around, some of it splashing onto Chaitali's face and breasts. She closed her eyes, her expression one of utter humiliation.

The men zipped up their pants, their laughter filling the room. One of them grabbed Chaitali's hair, pulling her head back. "Eat, bitch," he commanded, his voice rough with lust. Chaitali hesitated for a moment before leaning forward, her mouth working to consume the contents of the bowl. The men watched, their eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction.

As she finished, one of the men stood up and unzipped his pants again, his erection springing free. He walked towards Chaitali, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and anticipation. He guided his cock into her mouth, groaning as she began to suckle him, her tongue working expertly despite her humiliating position.

The other men watched, their own hands busy with their erections, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Chaitali's moans were muffled, her body trembling with the intensity of her submission. The man in her mouth thrust deeper, his hips moving in a rhythmic motion, his groans growing louder.

As he reached his climax, he pulled out, his cum spraying across Chaitali's face and breasts. She looked up at him, her lips parted, her tongue flicking out to catch the droplets. The other men followed suit, their own releases adding to the mess on her body. She remained on her knees, her body covered in their cum, her expression one of utter submission and satisfaction.

The video ended, leaving me with a whirlwind of emotions. The sight of Chaitali's humiliation and degradation was both shocking and intensely arousing. I returned to my seat, my mind racing with the vivid imagery, my body trembling with a mix of desire and revulsion. The food arrived, but my appetite had vanished, replaced by a dark, insatiable hunger for more.

As I reached the farmhouse, the clock was nearing nine. A sense of trepidation washed over me, my mind swirling with thoughts of what awaited me inside. I paid the auto-rickshaw driver a hefty sum, likely his week's earnings, and made my way to the gate. It was locked, and a security guard was dozing off in a small room to the left.

Peering through the gate, I could make out a large single-story building on the left side of the farmhouse. To the extreme right, a flat area was lit up, and faint music drifted through the night air. I was certain Chaitali was there. I called out to the guard, who woke up with a start and asked what I wanted. I handed him the paper Rajesh Sir had given me. He glanced at it, confusion etched on his face. Then I told him I was Chaitali's husband. He smirked and said, "Oh, you're the husband of today's whore, ha ha," and let me in.

I began walking towards the party area, my heart pounding in my chest. As I approached, the music grew louder, and the scene unfolded before my eyes. The area was filled with people, their faces flushed with alcohol and excitement. In the centre of the crowd, Chaitali was on display, her body completely bare and glistening under the lights. She was on all fours, a leash attached to a collar around her neck, held by Mohit, who seemed to be guiding her.

Rajesh Sir, the main boss, sat on a throne-like chair, overseeing the scene with a smirk on his face. Dev stood beside him, his eyes gleaming with dark desire. The crowd comprised Rajesh Sir, Mohit, Dev, and three others, their faces a mix of amusement and lust.

The crowd parted as I approached, their eyes fixed on Chaitali. She was crawling on the ground, her movements slow and deliberate. Mohit guided her towards Rajesh Sir and the others, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. As she reached them, Rajesh Sir stood up and unzipped his pants, his erection springing free. He grabbed Chaitali's hair and pulled her head towards his crotch.

"Show us what you can do, whore," he commanded, his voice rough with lust. Chaitali hesitated for a moment before opening her mouth and taking him in, her tongue working expertly despite the humiliation. The men watched, their laughter and crude comments filling the air. Dev stood up and positioned himself behind Chaitali, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust into her from behind.

Chaitali's moans were muffled, her body trembling with the intensity of her submission. The men took turns using her, their releases adding to the mess on her body. She remained on all fours, her body covered in their cum, her expression one of utter degradation and satisfaction.

As the men finished with her, Mohit guided Chaitali to the centre of the area, his grip firm on her leash. The music shifted to a slow, sensual beat, and Mohit commanded her to dance. Chaitali stood up, her body swaying to the rhythm, her movements slow and seductive. Her hands roamed over her body, teasing and caressing her skin as she danced, her eyes glowed with pleasure and arousal. The crowd cheered, their eyes fixed on her naked form, their excitement palpable.
Rajesh Sir handed Mohit an enormous dildo, and Mohit approached Chaitali, his eyes gleaming with dark desire. He gave her the dildo, commanding her to use it on herself. Chaitali hesitated for a moment, her body trembling, before taking it. She positioned the dildo between her legs, started pushing it into her pussy, her movements slow and deliberate as she began to pleasure herself. Mohit stood behind her, with a whip, he started whipping with force, the sound echoing through the air. Chaitali’s ass is becoming red. Chaitali's body jerked, a soft moan escaping her lips as she continued to move the dildo in and out of herself. The crowd's excitement grew, their laughter and cheers filling the air, their eyes gleaming with lust.

Dev then brought out a foxtail butt plug, its tail swaying as he approached Chaitali. He handed it to Mohit, who commanded her to insert it. Chaitali's eyes widened with a mix of fear and anticipation, but she obeyed, her body trembling as she inserted the plug. The tail swayed behind her, adding to the humiliation as she continued to dance. Mohit's hands roamed over her body, twisting her nipples, his other hand coming down on her ass with another sharp spank. Chaitali's moans grew louder, her body writhing with a mix of pain and pleasure. The crowd's excitement reached a fever pitch, their laughter and cheers filling the night air as they revelled in her submission. Mohit's hand came down on her face, a sharp slap echoing through the air, Chaitali's body trembling as she continued to dance, her movements growing more desperate and wild. Mohit started slapping one after another, and the crowd started cheering.

Rajesh Sir, Mohit, and Dev took turns humiliating her further, their actions growing more depraved with each passing moment. They forced her to perform lewd dances, their laughter and cheers filling the night air as they revelled in her submission.

As I stood there, Rajesh Sir's eyes landed on me. A wide grin spread across his face as he announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, the chief guest of our party has arrived—the husband of the great bitch, Chaitali!" The crowd erupted into laughter and cheers, their eyes turning towards me. Rajesh Sir offered me a seat beside him, gesturing for me to enjoy the show.

I sat down, my heart pounding in my chest as I watched Chaitali, her body still glistening with sweat and cum. Rajesh Sir handed Mohit a pair of nipple clips with small weights attached. Mohit approached Chaitali, his eyes gleaming with dark desire. He attached the clips to her nipples, the weights swaying gently. Chaitali's body trembled, a soft moan escaping her lips as the clips bit into her sensitive flesh.

"Rotate the weights, slut," Mohit commanded, his voice rough with lust. Chaitali hesitated for a moment before slowly beginning to rotate her torso, the weights swinging in a circular motion. The crowd's excitement grew, their laughter and cheers filling the air as they watched her struggle. Every time she slowed down, Mohit's hand came down on her ass with a sharp whip, the sound echoing through the air. Chaitali's body jerked, her moans growing louder with each strike, her movements becoming more desperate and wild.

After a few minutes of this torment, Rajesh Sir signalled for Mohit to stop. Chaitali's body was trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she knelt on the ground, her eyes downcast. Rajesh Sir approached her, his eyes gleaming with dark desire. "Beg for it, whore," he commanded, his voice rough with lust. "Beg to cum."

Chaitali hesitated for a moment, her body trembling, before she looked up at him, her voice shaking with a mix of fear and anticipation. "Please, sir," she begged, her words muffled and desperate. "Please let me cum. I need it so bad. I'm your dirty little slut, your whore. Please, sir, I beg you."

The crowd's excitement reached a fever pitch, their laughter and cheers filling the night air as they found victory in her submission. Rajesh Sir's hand came down on her face, a sharp slap echoing through the air. "Louder, bitch," he commanded, his voice rough with lust. "Let everyone hear you beg like the slut you are."

Chaitali's body trembled, her voice growing louder as she begged, her words desperate and wild. "Please, sir," she cried out, her voice echoing through the air. "Please let me cum. I'm your dirty little whore, your slut. I need it so bad. Please, sir, I beg you. Let me cum, please!"

Again, "Please, Sir," Chaitali begged, her voice echoing through the open space. "Please let me show you how much I need you. I'm your dirty little whore, your slut. I'll do anything you want, anything you command."

Rajesh Sir's eyes darkened with lust as he looked at Chaitali, his gaze travelling over her body, taking in every inch of her. He knew she was his, completely and utterly, and he revelled in the power he held over her.

"Beg harder, you filthy little slut," Rajesh Sir commanded, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down Chaitali's spine. "Show me how much you need it. Show me how much you need my cock."

"Please, Sir," she whimpered, her voice breaking with emotion. "I'll do anything you want. I'll be your good little whore, your dirty slut. Just please, please let me cum. I need to feel you inside me, need to feel you own me. Please, Sir, I'm begging you."

Rajesh Sir's hand moved to his belt, slowly unbuckling it as he watched Chaitali squirm. He could see the hunger in her eyes, the way her body arched towards him, begging for his touch. He knew he had her exactly where he wanted her, and the knowledge sent a thrill of excitement through him.

"You want to cum, you little slut?" Rajesh Sir asked, his voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver of anticipation through Chaitali. "You want to feel my cock inside you, filling you up, making you mine?"

"Yes, Sir," Chaitali moaned, her body trembling with need. "Please, I need it so bad. I need you to fuck me, to make me yours. Please, Sir, I'm your dirty little whore. Let me cum, please!"

Rajesh Sir's hand moved to his cock, stroking it slowly as he watched Chaitali beg. He could see the desperation in her eyes, the way her body writhed with need. He knew she was his, completely and utterly, and the knowledge sent a surge of power through him.

"Get on your knees, you filthy little slut," Rajesh Sir commanded, his voice a dark growl that sent Chaitali to her knees. "Lick my boots and show me how much you need my cock."

Chaitali's tongue moved over Rajesh Sir's boots, her body trembling with humiliation and desire. She could taste the leather, the dirt, and the power, and it sent a thrill of excitement through her. She knew she was his, completely and utterly, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

As she licked Rajesh Sir's boots, she could feel the eyes of Mohit, Dev, and the three unknown figures on her. She knew they were all watching, waiting to see what would happen next. And she knew that soon, very soon, she would be theirs, completely and utterly.

Rajesh Sir's hand moved to Chaitali's hair, pulling her up from her knees and towards his cock. He could see the hunger in her eyes, the way her body arched towards him, begging for his touch. He knew she was ready, ready to be fucked, ready to be owned.

"Fuck me, Sir," Chaitali begged, her voice a desperate whimper. "Fuck me in front of everyone. Show them how much I need your cock. Show them how much I'm your dirty little whore."

Rajesh Sir's cock entered Chaitali's pussy, filling her up, making her his. He could feel her tightness, her heat, and her desire, and it sent a surge of pleasure through him.

As Rajesh Sir fucked Chaitali, he could feel the eyes of Mohit, Dev, and the three unknown figures on them. He knew they were all watching, waiting to see what would happen next. And he knew that soon, very soon, they would all have their turn, their chance to fuck Chaitali, to make her theirs.

Chaitali's body convulsed with pleasure, her screams of ecstasy filling the open space as Rajesh Sir fucked her. She could feel the waves of pleasure crashing over her, consuming her entirely, and she knew she was his, completely and utterly.

As Rajesh Sir pulled out of Chaitali, his cock glistening with her juices, he looked at Mohit, Dev, and the three unknown figures. "Fuck her," Rajesh Sir commanded, his voice a dark growl that sent a thrill of excitement through the group. "Fuck her and show her how much she's ours. Show her how much she's our dirty little whore."

Mohit, Dev, and the three unknown figures moved towards Chaitali, their cocks hard and ready. They could see the hunger in her eyes, the way her body arched towards them, begging for their touch. For next two hours the group fucked Chaitali every possible manner, they didn’t show any mercy.

As the group pulled out of Chaitali, their cocks glistening with her juices, they looked at her, their eyes dark with lust and desire. As Chaitali collapsed onto the ground. The dildo and the foxtail are lying a little far from Chaitali’s body. Her nipples are still clamped, her ass is full of whipping stripes, face is tattooed and filled with cum. Cum dripping from her asshole and pussy.

And as they walked away, leaving Chaitali spent and trembling on the ground, they knew that this was just the beginning, the start of a night of passion and pleasure that would leave them all satisfied and spent. They left me with a puzzle to solve: who were these new three guys?

[Haroldfkumar2]

Nice story

[Haroldfkumar2]

Keep regular updates pls

[Haroldfkumar2]

Pierce her nipples and clit and tattoo filthy things on her pussy and ass and asshole, make her drink more piss and do ass licking

[chodn_khanki]

As I stood over Chaitali, her body glistening with sweat and cum, her eyes met mine with a mix of exhaustion and desire. She tried to rise, her intention clear—she wanted to wrap those pretty lips around my cock. But her body betrayed her, and she collapsed back onto the ground, her limbs trembling with the aftermath of the intense fucking she had just endured.



Just then, three servants rushed towards her. One carried a bucket and a scrubber, another had a garden hose, and the third held a towel. Their faces were expressionless, but their eyes gleamed with a dark hunger. They weren't just here to clean her up; they had other plans.


The first servant, a burly man with rough hands, grabbed Chaitali by her hair and yanked her head back. "Open your mouth, you filthy slut," he growled. Chaitali obeyed, her lips parting as he forced his cock between them. She tried to take him in, but her weakened state made it difficult. The servant didn't care. He held her head steady with one hand and thrust his hips forward, fucking her mouth with brutal strokes.


The second servant, a wiry man with a cruel smirk, knelt beside her and slapped her face. "You're nothing but a cum dumpster," he sneered, his hand leaving a red mark on her cheek. Chaitali whimpered, but she didn't resist. She knew she deserved this, knew she was nothing more than a toy for their pleasure.


The third servant, a stocky man with a sadistic glint in his eyes, kicked her side. "Pathetic," he spat. "You can't even suck a cock properly." Chaitali cried out, but the sound was muffled by the cock still thrusting in and out of her mouth.


Unable to stand, Chaitali was dragged by her hair and a leash around her neck. They pulled her across the ground, her body scbanging against the rough surface. She whimpered and cried out, but her pleas only seemed to fuel their cruelty.


They dragged her to a nearby tree and tied her up, her body spread out and vulnerable. The first servant grabbed the bucket and scrubber, dipping the scrubber into the soapy water. "Time to clean you up, you dirty whore," he said, his voice dripping with contempt.


He started with her face, scrubbing away the cum and sweat with rough, circular motions. Chaitali winced as the scrubber scbangd against her skin, but she didn't dare to complain. The servant moved down to her breasts, scrubbing them with the same brutal force. Her nipples hardened under the rough treatment, betraying her body's twisted response to the humiliation.


The second servant took the garden hose and sprayed her down, the cold water hitting her skin like a thousand tiny needles. Chaitali gasped and shivered, her body convulsing against the sudden chill. The servant laughed, directing the stream of water between her legs, washing away the cum that still dripped from her used holes.


The third servant grabbed the towel and started drying her off, his movements just as rough as the others. He rubbed the towel against her skin, his hands lingering on her breasts and between her legs. "You're still a filthy slut, no matter how much we clean you," he sneered.


As they finished cleaning her, the servants untied her from the tree and dragged her back to the ground. Chaitali lay there, her body trembling and her mind a whirlwind of humiliation and desire. She knew she was nothing more than a toy for their pleasure, and the thought sent a twisted thrill through her.


I approached her, my cock still hard and ready. I knelt beside her and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me. "You're mine now," I growled. "Mine to use, mine to humiliate, mine to own."


Chaitali's eyes filled with tears, but she nodded, her body trembling with anticipation. She knew she was mine, completely and utterly, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

As I stood over Chaitali, her body still trembling from the rough treatment she had received from the servants, I could see a mix of fear and anticipation in her eyes. She knew what was coming next, and despite the humiliation and pain, her body betrayed her with a twisted sense of desire.

I knelt beside her, my hand gripping her chin firmly. "You're going to take me in both your holes, you filthy slut," I growled, my voice low and commanding. Chaitali's eyes widened, but she nodded, her body already responding to my words.

"Please, Vineet," Chaitali moaned, her voice a desperate whimper. "I need you so bad. I need to feel you inside me, need to feel you own me. Please, Vineet, I'm your dirty little whore."

I positioned myself behind her, my cock hard and ready. I spat on my hand and rubbed it against her asshole, lubricating it slightly before pressing the tip of my cock against her tight entrance. Chaitali gasped as I pushed in, her body tensing against the intrusion.

"Relax, you dirty whore," I commanded, my voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. "Take my cock in your ass like the good little slut you are."

Chaitali obeyed, her body slowly relaxing as I pushed deeper into her ass. I could feel her tightness, her heat, and it sent a surge of pleasure through me. I knew she was mine, completely and utterly, and I reveled in the power I held over her.

As I fucked her ass, I could see her pussy glistening with arousal, begging to be filled. I pulled out of her ass and positioned myself at her pussy, pushing in with one swift thrust. Chaitali cried out, her body convulsing with pleasure as I filled her up.

"You like that, you filthy little slut?" I asked, my voice a dark growl that sent a thrill of excitement through her. "You like feeling my cock in your pussy, owning you, making you mine?"

"Yes, Vineet," Chaitali moaned, her body trembling with need. "Please, I need it so bad. I need you to fuck me, to make me yours. Please, Vineet, I'm your loving wife"

I fucked her pussy with brutal strokes, my cock pistoning in and out of her with a relentless rhythm. I could feel her tightness, her heat, and her desire, and it sent a surge of pleasure through me. As I fucked her pussy, I could see her asshole clenching, begging to be filled again. I pulled out of her pussy and positioned myself at her ass, pushing in with one swift thrust. Chaitali cried out, her body convulsing with pleasure as I filled her up.

"You're mine, you filthy wife," I growled, my voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.

Chaitali's body convulsed with pleasure, her screams of ecstasy filling the air as I fucked her ass. I could feel the waves of pleasure crashing over her, consuming her entirely, and I knew she was mine, completely and utterly.

As I pulled out of her ass, my cock glistening with her juices. But I wasn't done with her yet. I positioned myself at her pussy again, pushing in with one swift thrust. Chaitali cried out, her body convulsing with pleasure as I filled her up. I fucked her pussy with brutal strokes, my cock pistoning in and out of her with a relentless rhythm. I could feel her tightness, her heat, and her desire, and it sent a surge of pleasure through me.

As I fucked her pussy, I could see her asshole clenching, begging to be filled again. I pulled out of her pussy and positioned myself at her ass, pushing in with one swift thrust. Chaitali cried out, her body convulsing with pleasure as I filled her up. I alternated between her ass and pussy, fucking her with brutal strokes, my cock pistoning in and out of her with a relentless rhythm. 

As I fucked her, I could see the servants watching, their eyes dark with lust and desire. I knew they were waiting, waiting to see what would happen next, waiting to have their turn with Chaitali.


And as I came inside her, my cock pulsing with release, I knew she was mine, completely and utterly. I collapsed beside her, my body spent and trembling, and I knew that this was just the beginning, the start of a night of passion and pleasure that would leave us all satisfied and spent.


As I lay beside Chaitali, our bodies spent and trembling from the intense session, the servants approached us. They had been waiting for their turn to prepare Chaitali for what was to come next.


"It's time for you to dress, you filthy little slut," the first servant said, his voice dripping with contempt. Chaitali looked at me, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and anticipation. I nodded, giving her the silent permission she craved.



The servants moved quickly, their hands rough and unyielding. They attached a fluffy foxtail to her, the soft fur contrasting with the harsh treatment she had just endured. Chaitali whimpered as they inserted a dildo into her, the intrusion making her body tremble. They clipped her nipples with small, cruel weights, the pain making her gasp and writhe.



Next, they attached a small funnel to her mouth. The device was designed to serve as a toilet for pissing, with a tube extending from the funnel, allowing liquid to flow directly into her mouth. The funnel was secured tightly around her mouth with straps, ensuring she couldn't remove it. Chaitali's eyes widened in fear and humiliation as she realised what it was for. They clipped her nose, the cruel device forcing her to breathe through her mouth, making her look even more like a helpless animal. The funnel would ensure that she had to drink any liquid that entered it to breathe properly.



The servants also inserted a large plug into her pussy, ensuring that she couldn't piss. The plug was cold and unyielding, making Chaitali gasp and squirm as it filled her up. She knew she was completely at their mercy, and the thought sent a twisted thrill through her.


"Let's test the mechanism," the second servant said, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down Chaitali's spine. The servants gathered around her, their cocks hard and ready. They positioned themselves around the funnel, their eyes dark with lust and desire.


Chaitali's eyes widened in fear and humiliation as she realised what they were about to do. She tried to struggle, but the servants held her firmly, ensuring she couldn't move. They began to piss into the funnel, the warm liquid flowing through the tube and into her mouth. Chaitali had no choice but to swallow it, her body trembling as she struggled to breathe and drink at the same time. The servants laughed, their eyes dark with lust and desire. 


As the servants finished testing the mechanism, they looked at Chaitali, their eyes dark with lust and desire.  Finally, they attached a leash to her collar and pulled, forcing her to get down on all fours. Chaitali looked like a pig, her body trembling as she tried to maintain her balance on all fours. The servants laughed, their eyes dark with lust and desire. 


"Walk, you filthy little pig," the second servant commanded, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down Chaitali's spine. She obeyed, her body trembling as she tried to move forward on all fours. The servants pulled on the leash, guiding her towards the bungalow.


As Chaitali entered the building, I followed closely behind. The atmosphere inside was thick with the scent of alcohol and the sound of laughter. Rajesh Sir and his friends were in the midst of their party, their eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and dark desire as they saw Chaitali being led in by the servants.


Rajesh Sir, with a drink in his hand, looked at Chaitali with a smirk. "Ah, the little pig has arrived," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "Take her to the toilet and make her a public urinal. Tie her up and make sure she's ready for use."


The servants nodded, their faces expressionless, but their eyes gleaming with a dark hunger. They led Chaitali to the toilet, the leash tugging at her collar as she struggled to keep up on all fours. The cold, hard floor sent shivers down her body, and the sounds of the party faded into the background as they entered the bathroom.


Once inside the toilet, the servants removed the foxtail from Chaitali. They positioned her near a corner where a large, 12-inch butt plug was attached, its smooth surface gleaming under the dim light. The plug was electrically operated, and a switch on the wall controlled its vibrations. The servants forced her to sit on the plug, her body trembling as the cold, hard surface pressed against her. They tied her neck collar to a hook on the wall, ensuring she was secured in place. Chaitali's legs were folded but spread apart, an iron rod placed between her ankles to keep them wide open. Her hands were tied behind her back, leaving her completely vulnerable and exposed.



One of the servants grabbed a poster and attached it above her head. The poster read "Public Urinal" in bold, dark letters. 



As they finished their preparations, the servants left the toilet, leaving Chaitali tied and vulnerable. She could hear the sounds of the party outside, the laughter and music a stark contrast to her humiliation and fear.


Rajesh Sir and his friends soon began to use her as their personal urinal. They stood around her, their cocks hard and ready as they relieved themselves on her. Chaitali had no choice but to swallow their piss, her body trembling with humiliation and pleasure. The warm liquid flowed into her mouth through the funnel, forcing her to gulp it down to breathe. Every so often, a servant would flip the switch, causing the butt plug to vibrate intensely, making Chaitali moan and writhe in her bonds.


Every hour, the servants would return to the toilet to take Chaitali outside to pee. They untied her and led her outside, her body trembling with exhaustion and humiliation. They made her pee in a designated spot, her body convulsing with relief as she emptied her bladder.

Once she was finished, the servants led her back to the toilet and tied her up again. They laughed as they secured her, their eyes dark with lust and desire. They knew she was theirs, entirely and absolutely, and they relished the control they exerted over her.


As the night wore on, Chaitali was used and humiliated by Rajesh Sir and his friends. She was their public urinal, their personal toy, and she wouldn't have it any other way. The servants ensured she was taken care of, leading her outside every hour to pee and bringing her back to be used again. They would occasionally flip the switch, making the butt plug vibrate and causing Chaitali to shudder and moan, her body convulsing with a mix of pleasure and pain.

As they finished drinking, I approached Chaitali in the toilet, her belly now swollen. The servants came hurriedly and started their job. They released her from the bondage and started taking her outside.



Before taking her outside, the servants removed the dildo and clip from Chaitali's pussy, leaving her feeling empty and exposed. They then inserted the foxtail again, the soft fur contrasting with the harsh treatment she had just endured.  The servants led Chaitali to a car parked nearby, its sleek surface gleaming under the moonlight.


Rajesh Sir approached us, his eyes dark with lust and desire. He looked at Chaitali, his gaze travelling over her body, taking in every inch of her. "It's time for a little run, you filthy little pig," he said, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down her spine.


Before leaving, Rajesh Sir made a phone call to the plice, his voice low and commanding. He told them something, his plan clear in his mind. He wanted the security officer to catch Chaitali as she ran on the highway, adding another layer of humiliation and uncertainty to her fate.


The servants opened the door and forced Chaitali inside the car, her body trembling with fear and anticipation. They followed, their eyes dark with lust and desire. Rajesh Sir started the car and drove out of the farmhouse, the engine roaring in the quiet night. Chaitali was forced to sit in the backseat, her body trembling with fear and anticipation. The servants sat beside her, their eyes dark with lust and desire.


As they drove, Rajesh Sir looked at Chaitali in the rearview mirror, his eyes dark with lust and desire. "You're going to run, you filthy little pig," he said, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down her spine. "You're going to follow the car, and you're going to be humiliated and displayed for all to see."


Chaitali's eyes widened, but she nodded, her body already responding to his words. The car came to a stop on the side of the highway, the engine idling in the quiet night. Rajesh Sir turned to look at Chaitali, his eyes dark with lust and desire.


"Get out," he commanded, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down her spine. The servants opened the door and kicked Chaitali out of the car, her body rolling down to the street. She stood on the side of the highway, her body exposed and vulnerable under the pale light of the moon and the yellow halogen light.


Rajesh Sir started the car and drove off, the engine roaring in the quiet night. Chaitali had no choice but to follow, her body trembling with exhaustion and humiliation. She ran after the car, her feet pounding against the cold, hard asphalt. Chaitali ran after the car, her body trembling with exhaustion and humiliation. She could feel the eyes of the servants on her, their gaze dark with lust and desire.


As the car finally came to a stop, Rajesh Sir looked at Chaitali. He got out of the car and approached her, his hand gripping her chin firmly, and said,  "Tomorrow morning, you will be paraded nude in the local market". The plice sirens could be heard in the distance, their lights flashing as they approached.


The security officer cars arrived, their sirens wailing and lights flashing. The officers got out of their cars and approached Chaitali, their faces stern and unyielding. They looked at her, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief.


"What's going on here?" one of the officers asked, his voice stern and commanding. Rajesh Sir approached the officers, his eyes dark with lust and desire.


"Officers, this woman is a public nuisance," Rajesh Sir said, his voice low and commanding. "She's been running around naked, causing a disturbance. We found her like this and tried to stop her, but she kept running."


The officers looked at Chaitali, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief.  "We'll take it from here," one of the officers said, his voice stern and commanding. They approached Chaitali, slapped her hard, and forced her into the back of their car.


As the plice car drove off, Rajesh Sir looked at me and winked "Let's go back," he said, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down my spine. We got into the car and drove off, the engine roaring in the quiet night.

[Haroldfkumar2]

Nice update

[anjali]

Nice super update

[chodn_khanki]

As we drove away from the plice station, the weight of uncertainty gnawed at me. I turned to Rajesh Sir, my voice laced with concern and curiosity. "What's going to happen to her now?" I asked, my eyes searching his face for answers.

Rajesh Sir glanced at me, a dark smirk playing on his lips. "Don't worry, she's going to experience much more intense treatment," he said, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. "This is just the beginning for our little slut."

I listened intently as Rajesh Sir detailed the plans for Chaitali. My mind was a whirlwind of anticipation and dark desire. "First, they'll give her Rohypnol," he explained, his eyes gleaming with a twisted hunger. "It'll make her compliant, ready for anything we want. She won't be able to resist, won't even want to."

Rajesh Sir described how Chaitali would be dosed with Rohypnol, the powerful sedative that would strip away her inhibitions and leave her completely at our mercy. "They'll start with a small dose, just enough to make her compliant," he said, his voice dripping with anticipation. "But they'll keep increasing the dosage, making her more and more dependent on the drug. She'll become a slave to her desires, a puppet for our pleasure."

I could picture it vividly—Chaitali, drugged and helpless, her body completely at our mercy. The thought sent a thrill of excitement through me. "And then?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Rajesh Sir's smirk widened. "Then, we'll force her to parade nude," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "She'll be put on display for everyone to see, her body exposed and vulnerable. She'll be humiliated, used, and owned in ways she never imagined."

The image of Chaitali, naked and drugged, being paraded in front of a crowd sent a surge of dark pleasure through me. I could almost see her trembling body, her eyes glazed over with the effects of the drug, her movements slow and uncoordinated. She would be entirely at our mercy, a helpless toy for our pleasure.

But then, a thought struck me. "Why are we doing this?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and concern. "Chaitali has already submitted herself to us. She's ours, completely and utterly. Why do we need to go to such extremes?"

Rajesh Sir looked at me, his expression softening slightly. "It's not just about submission," he explained, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "It's about breaking her down completely, stripping away every last bit of her dignity and self-respect. It's about making her understand that she is nothing more than a toy for our pleasure, a tool for our amusement."

He paused, his eyes searching mine for understanding. "Chaitali has submitted, yes, but there's always a part of her that will resist, that will hold onto some semblance of control. We need to break that part of her so that she truly understands her place. This is about total domination, about making her realise that she has no control, no power, no say in what happens to her."

I nodded slowly, beginning to understand the depth of Rajesh Sir's intentions. It wasn't just about physical submission; it was about psychological domination, about breaking her spirit and reshaping her into the perfect slave.

Rajesh Sir continued, "The Rohypnol will make her mad for sex, her body craving the touch of a man, the feel of a cock inside her. But the plice won't give her what she wants. They'll keep her tied up, suspended from the ceiling by her hands, her body exposed and vulnerable."

The thought of Chaitali, drugged and desperate for sex, made me hard. I could picture her body, trembling and exposed, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and desire.  "You know that she is absconding and there is another charge of stealing, so plice will try to extract information from her", he winked at me. "They'll beat her with a heated iron rod," Rajesh Sir continued, his voice dripping with lust. "The pain will be intense, but it will only make her crave sex more. She'll beg for it, beg for the touch of a man, the feel of a cock inside her. But they won't give her what she wants. They'll keep her tied up, keep her desperate and needy."

I could feel my cock hardening at the thought, the dark desire consuming me. "And what about us?" I asked, my voice a low growl. "What will we do to her?"

Rajesh Sir's eyes gleamed with a twisted hunger. "We'll use her, of course," he said, his voice dripping with lust. "So this will go for the next three days, when she is returned to us, she will be a different being, no longer a human. The reason I involved plice is that we can ensure no one do any really harm to her or fuck he. With plice protection, no one will touch her, though she will be paraded nude.  We'll fuck her, humiliate her, make her our slut. She'll be ours to use, to own, to do with as we please. But it's not just about the physical pleasure. It's about the power, the control, the knowledge that we hold her very existence in our hands."


"We'll make her beg for it," Rajesh Sir continued, his voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down my spine. "She'll beg for our cocks, for our touch, for our approval. And we'll give it to her in ways she never imagined. But always on our terms, always under our control."



As we arrived at Rajesh Sir's farmhouse, he instructed me to stay there for the next three days and not leave the premises. All updates would be sent to me via WhatsApp. The hotel fare and everything will be taken care of. Rajesh Sir left the farmhouse and told me he would be back with his new pet.

On the morning of the third day, I was called by one of the servants to come to the living room area. The sight that greeted us was both shocking and arousing. Chaitali had been returned, but she was a completely different person. The three days of being drugged, tortured, and paraded nude in public areas had broken her completely. She was no longer the defiant, spirited woman we had known; she was now a shell of her former self, a mere plaything for our darkest desires.

Chaitali was led into the farmhouse by the servants, her body trembling with exhaustion and humiliation. She was completely naked, her skin marked with the evidence of her ordeal. Bruises and welts covered her body, a testament to the brutal treatment she had endured. Her eyes were glazed over, a vacant stare that spoke volumes of the psychological torment she had suffered.

The servants had attached a nose clip to her, forcing her nostrils closed and making it difficult for her to breathe through her nose. The only way she could get air was through her mouth, which was held open by a cruel gag. The combination of the nose clip and the gag made her look like a pig, her breathing laboured, and her mouth hanging open in a constant state of need. The servants laughed as they led her in, their eyes dark with lust and desire. 

Chaitali's nipples were clipped with cruel, biting clamps, connected by a chain that swayed with each step, pulling her nipples down and adding to the cruel tension. The sight of her clipped and weighted nipples sent a surge of dark pleasure through me, knowing that she was enduring such intense pain and humiliation.

As we gathered around her, Chaitali's body trembled with fear and anticipation. She knew what was coming next, and despite the brutal treatment she had already endured, her body betrayed her with a twisted sense of desire. The Rohypnol had left her craving the touch of a man, the feel of a cock inside her. But we were not ready to give her what she wanted. Not yet.

Rajesh Sir approached her, his eyes dark with lust and desire. He looked at her, his gaze travelling over her body, taking in every inch of her. "You're back, you filthy little pig," he said, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down her spine. "And you're going to be ours, completely and utterly."

She tried to speak, but the gag muffled her words, making her sound like an animal. The servants laughed, their eyes dark with lust and desire. Rajesh Sir reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You're going to be branded, you filthy little pig," he growled, his voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. "You're going to bear the mark of your owner, a symbol of your submission."

The servants forced Chaitali onto her hands and knees, her body trembling with fear and anticipation. One of the servants brought out a branding iron, its tip glowing red-hot. The iron was a crude, handmade design, with the letters "RJ" prominently displayed. Chaitali was about to be marked as Rajesh Sir's property.

Rajesh Sir approached her, the branding iron in his hand. He looked at her, his eyes dark with lust and desire. "You're going to be mine, completely and utterly," he growled, his voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. "You're going to bear my mark, a symbol of your submission."

Chaitali's eyes widened with fear, but she nodded, her body trembling with need.  Rajesh Sir pressed the branding iron against her ass, the sizzle of her flesh filling the air. Chaitali screamed, her body convulsing with pain and pleasure. The smell of burning flesh was intense, a testament to the brutal treatment she was enduring. The brand was a crude, handmade design, burned into her flesh with the heated iron. The letters "RJ" were prominently displayed, a constant reminder of her place as Rajesh Sir's property.

As Rajesh Sir pulled the branding iron away. The letters "RJ" were clearly visible, a mark of ownership, a symbol of her submission. The brand was a constant reminder of her place as Rajesh Sir's property, a testament to the brutal treatment she had endured.

The servants led Chaitali to a large, open area in the farmhouse, forcing her to crawl on all fours. The chain connecting her nipple clamps swayed with each movement, adding to her discomfort and humiliation.

Now Chaitali is branded, tattooed her face, paraded nude on the open, a criminal - she can no longer go back to her normal life.

[chodn_khanki]

As we settled onto the lush, green lawn of Rajesh Sir's farmhouse, the late morning sun cast a warm, golden glow over the open area. The serene atmosphere of Rajesh Sir's farmhouse is a stark contrast to the chaos of the previous night. As we settle onto the lush, green lawn, the late morning sun casts a warm, golden glow over the open area. The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the soft chirping of birds.

Chaitali, still motionless, is forced onto her hands and knees. Her body, marked with bruises and the fresh brand on her ass, is a testament to the brutal training she has undergone. But it's not just any training - it's a consensual and erotic form of punishment that leaves her feeling vulnerable and exposed.

As we watch, Rajesh Sir approaches Chaitali, his eyes blazing with intensity. He raises his hand, and Chaitali flinches in anticipation of the next blow. But instead of striking her, he gently touches her bruised skin, tracing the shape of the brand on her ass.

Chaitali's body tenses, and she looks up at Rajesh Sir with a mixture of fear and desire. She knows that she has pushed him to his limits, and now she must face the consequences. But as he continues to touch her, she begins to feel a sense of calm wash over her.

The scene is one of raw sensuality, where the boundaries between pleasure and pain are blurred. It's a testament to the consensual nature of their relationship, where both parties are willing to push each other to their limits in pursuit of pleasure.

Rajesh Sir stretched out on the lawn, his legs resting comfortably on Chaitali's back as if she were nothing more than a piece of furniture for him to lounge upon. The sight of her, reduced to such a submissive state, sent a surge of dark pleasure through me, and I couldn't help but feel a thrill at the thought of my wife's tits being manipulated by some other man and that too in front of lowly servants.

Chaitali's breathing was laboured through the nose clip and gag, her body trembling with exhaustion and humiliation. The chain connecting her nipple clamps swayed gently with each movement, was a constant reminder of her submission and helplessness as she lay there, exposed and vulnerable.

Rajesh Sir ran his hands over Chaitali's body, tracing the curves of her tits and the shape of her pussy. He was entirely in control, and it was clear that he had no intention of letting her go anytime soon.

"Chaitali," Rajesh Sir whispered, his voice dripping with seduction. "You're so beautiful when you're helpless like this. So submissive and obedient."

Rajesh Sir leaned forward, his lips brushing against Chaitali's ear. "You're going to take it all, aren't you?" he whispered. "Every inch of my cock, every drop of my cum. You're going to take it all and beg for more."

Chaitali nodded eagerly, her eyes fixed on Rajesh Sir's face as she waited for his next command.

As we sat there, Rajesh Sir turned to me, his eyes reflecting a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. "Before we begin," he said, his voice calm and composed, "I need to tell you something."

I looked at him, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. "What is it?" I asked, my voice tinged with curiosity and apprehension.

Rajesh Sir took a deep breath, his gaze steady and unapologetic. "I lied to you about the security officer torture part," he admitted. "When Chaitali was taken from the road, she wasn't handed over to the authorities. Instead, she was given to the three friends who were here at the farmhouse. You saw them right.  They are BDSM trainers, experts in their field. They are highly paid. That's why I have invited them that night."

I felt a surge of anger at his deception, but I also understood his reasoning. "Why did you lie?" I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and confusion.

Rajesh Sir looked at me, his expression softening slightly. "I needed to ensure that Chaitali received the training she needed without any interference; moreover, the identity of these three trainers needs to be kept secret," he explained. "If I had told you the truth, you might have tried to intervene, to stop the process. Involving the plice would have complicated things and prevented me from ensuring her complete submission."

I listened intently, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. "And the part about her being paraded nude in public?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Rajesh Sir shook his head. "That was a lie, too," he admitted. "I wanted to scare you, to make sure you wouldn't leave the farmhouse. If you had known that she was being publicly shamed, you might not have gone to the plice station to claim her. And in that case, you would have been ashamed as well."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, knowing that Chaitali had not been subjected to the ultimate humiliation of being paraded nude in public. However, I was also angry at Rajesh Sir for his deception and the fear and anxiety he had caused me.

"But there is some good news," Rajesh Sir continued, his voice taking on a more positive tone. "We have recorded all the sessions with Chaitali. Today, we will watch all the videos together."

I nodded, my mind filled with a mix of anticipation and dread. I knew that watching the videos would be difficult, that it would bring back memories of the brutal treatment Chaitali had endured. But I also knew that it was necessary, that it was a part of her journey to becoming the perfect submissive.

As the sun began to rise, casting a warm, golden glow over the lawn, we prepared to head inside. The servants helped Rajesh Sir to his feet, and I followed closely behind. Chaitali, still on her hands and knees, was led inside by the servants.

As we made our way into the dimly lit room, the atmosphere was heavy with anticipation. The servants set up the screen and the projector, and we settled down to watch the videos. The first video began to play, showing Chaitali being hanged from her hands.

As we settled into the dimly lit room, the screen flickered to life, casting a cold, eerie glow over our faces. The video began to play, showing Chaitali suspended from the ceiling by her hands, her body dangling helplessly in the air. Her feet barely touched the ground, and her arms were stretched taut, the strain evident in her trembling muscles. The nose clip and gag were still in place, making her look like a helpless animal, her breathing laboured and desperate.

Three masked figures entered the frame, their identities hidden behind sinister, expressionless masks. Each of them carried various instruments of torture, their intentions clear. The room was filled with an air of anticipation, the atmosphere heavy with the promise of pain and humiliation.

The first masked figure approached Chaitali, holding a syringe filled with a clear liquid. "Time for your medicine, you filthy little pig," he said, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down my spine. Chaitali's eyes widened with fear, but she was helpless to resist. The needle pierced her skin, and the liquid was injected into her vein. Almost immediately, her body began to relax, her struggles becoming weaker and more uncoordinated. The Rohypnol was taking effect, making her compliant and submissive.

The second masked figure stepped forward, holding a hot iron rod. The tip of the rod glowed red-hot, and the heat radiated off it in waves. "You're going to feel this, you filthy little slut," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. He brought the rod down on Chaitali's back, the sizzle of her flesh filling the air. Chaitali screamed, her body convulsing with pain, but the drugs made her unable to resist. The masked figure continued to beat her with the hot iron rod, leaving angry, red welts on her skin.

The third masked figure approached her, holding a paddle. "Time for a little pussy spanking, you filthy little whore," he said, his voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down my spine. He brought the paddle down on Chaitali's pussy, the sound of the impact echoing through the room. Chaitali screamed, her body convulsing with pain and humiliation. The masked figure continued to spank her pussy, the brutal strokes making her skin red and inflamed.

The first masked figure stepped forward again, this time holding a whip. "You're going to be punished, you filthy little pig," he said, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down my spine. He brought the whip down on Chaitali's back, the sound of the lash echoing through the room. Chaitali screamed, her body convulsing with pain, but the drugs made her unable to resist. The masked figure continued to whip her, the brutal strokes leaving angry, red welts on her skin.

The second masked figure approached her, holding a paddle. "Time for a little slapping, you filthy little slut," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. He brought the paddle down on Chaitali's face, the sound of the impact echoing through the room. Chaitali's head snapped to the side, her body convulsing with pain. The masked figure continued to slap her, the brutal strokes making her face red and inflamed.

The third masked figure stepped forward, holding a bucket of filthy crap. "Time for some facial abuse, you disgusting little cunt," he said, his voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down my spine. He poured the contents of the bucket over Chaitali's face, the filth covering her skin and dripping into her mouth. Chaitali gagged and retched, her body convulsing with disgust and humiliation. The masked figure continued to pour the filth over her, the cruel treatment making her look like a helpless animal.

As the video continued, the masked figures left Chaitali hanging from the ceiling, her body covered in filth and trembling with exhaustion and humiliation. The camera angle shifted, showing a clock on the wall. The hands of the clock moved rapidly, indicating that time was being fast-forwarded. Six hours passed in what seemed like mere minutes, the video capturing the slow, agonising passage of time for Chaitali.

When the video returned to normal speed, Chaitali was still hanging from the ceiling, her body covered in filth and her spirit seemingly broken. The three masked figures returned, carrying water hoses and scrubbers. They began to spray her down, the cold water washing away the filth and leaving her skin clean but red and inflamed.

Once she was cleaned, the masked figures removed the gag from her mouth. Chaitali's lips were dry and cracked, and she gasped for air, her breathing ragged and uneven. But almost immediately, she began to beg, her voice a desperate whimper. "Please, fuck me," she pleaded, her eyes wide with need. "Fuck my pussy and my asshole. I need it so bad. Please, I'm your filthy little whore. Let me cum, please!"

The masked figures laughed. The first masked figure approached her, his cock hard and ready. He positioned himself behind her, his hands gripping her hips firmly. "You want it, you filthy little slut?" he growled, his voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. "You want my cock in your pussy and your asshole?"

"Yes, please," Chaitali moaned, her body trembling with need. "Please, I need it so bad. I need you to fuck me, to make me yours. Please, I'm your dirty little whore."

The first masked figure entered her pussy with brutal force, his cock pistoning in and out of her with a relentless rhythm. Chaitali cried out, her body convulsing with pleasure and pain. The other masked figures gathered around her, their hands rough and unyielding as they touched and groped her.

As the first masked figure fucked her pussy, the second masked figure positioned himself at her ass, his cock hard and ready. He entered her with one swift thrust, filling her up and making her his. Chaitali screamed, her body convulsing with pleasure as she was double-penetrated.

The masked figures took turns fucking her pussy and ass, their brutal strokes making her body convulse with pleasure. Chaitali's screams of ecstasy filled the room, her body trembling with the intensity of the sensations. She was theirs, completely and utterly, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

As the video continued, the masked figures used Chaitali in every way imaginable. They fucked her pussy and ass, their cocks pistoning in and out of her with a relentless rhythm. They made her suck their cocks, her mouth a playground for their darkest desires. They used toys on her, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through her body. They spanked her, whipped her, and caned her, her skin marked with the evidence of their brutal treatment.

When the video finally ended, Rajesh Sir turned to me, his eyes dark with lust and desire. "She is ours, completely and utterly," he said, his voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down my spine. "And we will make sure she knows it."

I nodded, my body trembling with anticipation. I knew that this was just the beginning, the start of a journey that would leave us all satisfied and spent. And as I looked at Rajesh Sir, his eyes dark with lust and desire, I knew that we would make Chaitali ours, completely and utterly, and we wouldn't have it any other way.

"You see," Rajesh Sir continued, "Chaitali is a slave, a piece of property to be used and abused as we please. And she will do anything for us, because she knows that's what we want."

I nodded in agreement, my cock throbbing with excitement at the thought of Chaitali's helpless little cunt.

"And now," Rajesh Sir said, "it's time for you to take her, to claim your piece of property. You will do whatever it takes to enjoy, to make her completely and utterly yours."

For in that moment, I knew that Chaitali was truly mine, completely and utterly. And I would do whatever it took to keep her that way.

[Haroldfkumar2]

Nice update

[Pompykjha]

My story almost

[chodn_khanki]

As the video session ended, Rajesh Sir turned to me with a dark, unyielding expression. "You're not going to fuck her," he declared, his voice firm and final. "She needs to understand her place, and this is not the time for indulgence."

I felt a surge of frustration and desire, but I knew better than to argue with Rajesh Sir. His word was law, and I had to respect his decisions, no matter how much they tested my patience.

Rajesh Sir signalled to the servants, who quickly moved to carry out his orders. They approached Chaitali, who was still trembling and desperate from the intense session. One of the servants produced a black mask, designed to cover her entire face. It was a cruel, oppressive thing, with only small holes for her to breathe through. The servant fastened the mask tightly over her head, securing it with straps that dug into her skin. Chaitali's muffled whimpers filled the air, her fear and desperation palpable.

With the mask securely in place, the servants began to force Chaitali toward the small, metal cage. She resisted, her body weak but still defiant. The servants, however, were prepared for her resistance. Each of them carried a rod, and they began to strike her with brutal force. Every hit left a mark on her already bruised and battered skin, the red welts forming a grotesque pattern across her body.

Chaitali cried out with each strike, her body convulsing with pain. The rods came down on her back, her thighs, her ass—each blow a cruel reminder of her helplessness. The servants showed no mercy, their faces twisted with sadistic pleasure as they continued to beat her.

Finally, broken and trembling, Chaitali allowed herself to be forced into the small metal cage. The cage was barely large enough to contain her, and she had to curl up tightly to fit inside. The bars of the cage were spaced just far enough apart to allow access to her body, but not enough for her to escape. The servants locked the cage with a heavy padlock, ensuring she was trapped inside.

The cage was then carried outside and placed in the direct sunlight. The harsh rays of the sun beat down on the metal, heating it up and making the confined space inside even more unbearable. Chaitali's body was on full display, her pussy and asshole clearly visible and accessible through the bars of the cage. She was left there, without water or food, her gag preventing her from even begging for mercy.

As the day wore on, the sun grew hotter, and the metal of the cage became scorching to the touch. Chaitali's body glistened with sweat, her skin red and inflamed from the heat. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that would relieve some of the discomfort, but there was no escape from her torment.

Every now and then, the servants would approach the cage, their faces twisted with sadistic pleasure. One of them carried a tube of itching cream, a cruel concoction designed to cause intense discomfort and irritation. The servant applied the cream to Chaitali's pussy and asshole, rubbing it in with rough, unyielding fingers. The cream quickly took effect, causing an unbearable itching sensation that drove Chaitali to the brink of madness.

Chaitali writhed and squirmed inside the cage, her body convulsing with the need to scratch and relieve the itching. But there was no relief to be found. The servants laughed as they watched her suffer, their eyes dark with lust and desire. 

As the hours passed, Chaitali's struggles grew weaker, her body exhausted from the relentless torment. The itching cream continued to torture her, the sensation driving her to the edge of insanity. She was dehydrated and starving, her body desperate for water and food. But the servants showed no mercy, their cruelty unrelenting.

Throughout the day, the servants took turns applying more of the itching cream, ensuring that Chaitali's suffering never ceased. They would taunt her, their voices filled with contempt and amusement. "You're our little pig, aren't you?" one of them would say, his voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. "You're nothing more than a toy for our pleasure, a tool for our amusement."

Chaitali's muffled cries and whimpers filled the air, her body trembling with pain and humiliation. She was completely at their mercy, her spirit broken and her body a playground for their darkest desires.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the ground, the servants finally approached the cage and unlocked it. Chaitali's body was limp and trembling, her strength completely spent. The servants dragged her out of the cage, her body leaving a trail of sweat and filth on the scorching metal.

The moment she was released, Chaitali's hands flew to her pussy and ass, scratching frantically at the itching cream that had been torturing her all day. She giggled, her body writhing with a mix of relief and pleasure. The servants and Rajesh Sir watched in a mix of shock and dark amusement as she scratched herself, her actions completely devoid of shame.

"You filthy little slut," Rajesh Sir said, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down her spine. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Chaitali looked up at him, her eyes glazed with a mix of madness and desire. "Yes, Sir," she giggled, her fingers still scratching at her inflamed skin. "I love it. I love the pain, the humiliation, the pleasure. I'm your filthy little pig, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Rajesh Sir nodded, a dark smile playing on his lips. "Very well, you filthy little pig. Since you enjoy it so much, you can ask for something you want."

Chaitali's eyes lit up with excitement. "Please, Sir," she begged, her voice a desperate whimper. "Can I go outside to pee? I love peeing in the open, feeling the air on my skin. It makes me feel so free, so alive."

Rajesh Sir considered her request for a moment, then nodded. "Very well," he said, his voice firm and commanding. "You may go outside to pee. However, remember to remain on all fours at all times. And you will use the roadside drain. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," Chaitali replied, her eyes wide with gratitude. "Thank you, Sir."

The servants led Chaitali outside, her body trembling with excitement and anticipation. She crawled on all fours, her movements graceful and submissive. As she reached the roadside drain, she positioned herself over it, her body trembling with need.

Chaitali let out a sigh of relief as she began to pee, the warm liquid flowing out of her and into the drain. She giggled, her body convulsing with pleasure and relief. "I love this, Sir," she called out, her voice filled with joy. "I love peeing in the open, feeling the air on my skin. It makes me feel so free, so alive."

Once she was finished, Chaitali crawled back to the farmhouse, her body still trembling with excitement. The servants followed her, their eyes dark with lust and desire. As she reached the garden, Chaitali positioned herself under the garden hose, her body trembling with anticipation.

"Please, Sir," she begged, her voice a desperate whimper. "Can I use the garden hose to clean myself? I want to feel the water on my skin, washing away the filth and the sweat."

Rajesh Sir nodded, a dark smile playing on his lips. "Very well," he said, his voice firm and commanding. "You may use the garden hose to clean yourself. But remember, you are to remain on all fours at all times. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," Chaitali replied, her eyes wide with gratitude. "Thank you, Sir."

The servants turned on the garden hose, the cold water spraying down on Chaitali's body. She giggled, her body convulsing with pleasure and relief as the water washed away the filth and the sweat. She crawled around under the spray, her body trembling with joy and excitement.

As she cleaned herself, the servants gathered around her, their hands rough and unyielding as they touched and groped her.  Chaitali's giggles and moans filled the air. Once she was clean, the servants turned off the garden hose and led Chaitali back inside.


Once inside, the servants forced a glass of saline water into Chaitali's hands. "Drink this, you filthy cunt," one of the servants snarled, his voice dripping with contempt. "It'll help you recover, you worthless slut."

Chaitali nodded obediently, her eyes wide with pathetic gratitude. She gulped down the saline water, the liquid refreshing her parched throat. One of the servants then shoved a small pill into her mouth. "Swallow it, whore," he commanded, his voice firm and unyielding. "It'll relax those tight muscles of yours."

Chaitali obeyed, swallowing the pill with another sip of water. The medicine would ease the tension in her muscles, allowing her to relax and recover from the day's brutal ordeal. 

As she waited for the medicine to take effect, Chaitali's hands wandered to her ass, her fingers tracing the branding letters "RJ" that had been burned into her flesh. She let out a soft, pathetic giggle, her eyes glazed with a mix of pain and perverse pleasure. The brand was a constant reminder of her submission, a symbol of her ownership by Rajesh Sir.

She turned to Rajesh Sir, her eyes pleading and desperate. "Sir," she begged, her voice a trembling, pathetic whimper. "Please, I want to be branded again. I want to bear your mark on both of my ass cheeks. I want everyone to know that I am yours, completely and utterly." I am shocked to hear this.  Chaitali looked at me and giggled. 

Rajesh Sir looked at her, his expression a mix of surprise and dark amusement. "You want to be branded again, you filthy little pig?" he asked, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down her spine. "You want to endure that pain and humiliation once more?"

"Yes, Sir," Chaitali replied, her voice filled with desperation. "I need it, Sir. I need to feel the pain, the burn of the brand on my flesh. I need to know that I am yours, that I belong to you completely. Please, Sir, I'm begging you."

Rajesh Sir considered her request for a moment, his eyes dark with lust and desire. He knew that branding her again would be a cruel and painful ordeal, but he also knew that it was what she craved. She wanted to be marked, to be owned, to be completely and utterly his.

"Very well," he said finally, his voice firm and commanding. "You will be branded again, you worthless slut. But you must understand that this will be even more painful than the first time. You will endure the pain and humiliation, and you will bear my mark with pride."

Chaitali's eyes lit up with excitement and gratitude. "Thank you, Sir," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you for giving me what I need, for making me yours."

The servants quickly prepared the branding iron, heating it until the tip glowed red-hot. The letters "RJ" were clearly visible, a cruel reminder of the pain and humiliation that Chaitali was about to endure. The servants forced her onto her hands and knees, her ass exposed and vulnerable, her tits swaying pathetically beneath her.

Rajesh Sir approached her, the branding iron in his hand. He looked at her, his eyes dark with lust and desire. "You will bear my mark with pride, and you will never forget that you belong to me." Chaitali nodded, I can see her pussy started leaking. She knew that the pain would be intense, but she also knew that it was what she needed. She needed to be marked, to be owned, to be completely and utterly his.

Rajesh Sir pressed the branding iron against her other ass cheek, the sizzle of her flesh filling the air. Chaitali screamed, her body convulsing with pain and twisted pleasure. The smell of burning flesh was intense, a testament to the brutal treatment she was enduring. The brand was a cruel, handmade design, burned into her flesh with the heated iron. The letters "RJ" were prominently displayed, a constant reminder of her place as Rajesh Sir's property.

As Rajesh Sir pulled the branding iron away, the sight of the brand sent a surge of dark pleasure through him. The letters "RJ" were clearly visible, a mark of ownership, a symbol of her submission. 

As the branding was completed, Rajesh Sir looked at Chaitali with a mix of satisfaction and dark amusement. "You did well, you filthy little cunt," he said, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down her spine. "Now, you need to rest. You won't be sleeping tonight. There's a party, and you will be the entertainment."

Chaitali's eyes widened with a mix of fear and twisted excitement. She knew that the party would be a night of humiliation and degradation, but she also knew that it was what she craved. She was Rajesh Sir's property, his filthy little whore, and she would do anything to please him.

The servants led Chaitali to a small, dimly lit room. The room was sparse, with only a small bed and a table. The servants forced her onto the bed, her body trembling with exhaustion and anticipation. "Rest, you worthless slut," one of the servants commanded, his voice firm and unyielding. "You'll need your strength for tonight."

Chaitali nodded obediently, her eyes heavy with fatigue. She curled up on the bed, her body aching from the day's brutal treatment. Despite the pain and humiliation, she felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. She was Rajesh Sir's property, his filthy little whore, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

As Chaitali drifted off to sleep, the servants left the room, closing the door behind them. The party preparations were already underway, and the lawn was being transformed into a den of debauchery. The air was thick with anticipation, the atmosphere heavy with the promise of a night of twisted pleasure and degradation.

At 8 o'clock, the lawn was dressed up for the nasty party. The decorations were dark and twisted, with red and black streamers hanging from the trees and a large, ominous-looking stage set up in the centre of the lawn. The stage was equipped with various BDSM apparatuses, including a St. Andrew's Cross, a spanking bench, and a suspension rig. The air was filled with the scent of alcohol and the sound of laughter, the atmosphere heavy with anticipation.

Rajesh Sir, Mohit, Dev, and two other men were already gathered on the lawn, their eyes dark with lust and desire. They were sipping on drinks and talking amongst themselves, their voices low and filled with anticipation. The servants moved around the lawn, ensuring that everything was in place for the night's entertainment.

As the clock struck 8:30, the servants went to wake Chaitali. She was still groggy from her nap, her body aching and her mind foggy. The servants forced her to her feet, their hands rough and unyielding. "It's time, you filthy little whore," one of the servants snarled, his voice dripping with contempt. "The party is starting, and you are the entertainment."

Chaitali nodded obediently, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and twisted excitement. She knew that the night would be a test of her endurance and submission, but she also knew that it was what she craved. She was Rajesh Sir's property, his filthy little whore, and she would do anything to please him.

The servants led Chaitali to the lawn, her body trembling with anticipation and fear. As she stepped onto the stage, the men gathered around her, their eyes dark with lust and desire. Rajesh Sir approached her, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.

"Welcome, everyone," he said, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down Chaitali's spine. "Tonight, we have a special treat for you. This filthy little whore is my property, and she will do anything to please us. She is your entertainment for the night, and you are free to use her as you see fit."

Rajesh Sir approached her, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "Introduce yourself, you filthy little whore," he commanded, his voice a dark growl that sent a shiver down her spine. "Tell us who you are and what you're here for."

Chaitali took a deep breath, her mind racing with a mix of humiliation and perverse excitement. She knew that this was her moment to shine, to show the men just how filthy and worthless she was. She spread her legs wide, her hands trembling as she began to touch herself, her voice a trembling whisper that filled the air.

"I'm Chaitali, you sick fucks," she began, her voice dripping with contempt and self-loathing. "I'm a filthy, worthless cunt, a slut who lives to be used and abused. My body is nothing but a playground for your twisted desires, a tool for your sick pleasure.  My face is marked with the symbols of my submission, a constant reminder of my place as Rajesh Sir's property. And my ass is branded with his initials, a symbol of my willingness to endure pain and humiliation for his pleasure."

She spread her pussy lips wide, her fingers trembling as she stretched herself open. "Look at this worthless cunt," she sneered, her voice filled with disgust. "It's loose and used, a gaping hole that's been fucked by more cocks than I can count. It's always wet and ready, a filthy, dripping mess that's just begging to be used again."

She turned around, bending over and spreading her ass cheeks wide. The men leaned in, their eyes dark with lust as they gazed at her exposed asshole. "And look at this filthy, public asshole," she continued, her voice a dark whisper that sent a shiver down the spines of the men gathered around her. " I love the feeling of being used and abused, of being nothing more than a filthy, public whore for your pleasure."

She turned back to face the crowd, her eyes wide and her breath shallow. She opened her mouth wide, her tongue lolling out as she stretched her lips obscenely. "And look at this filthy mouth," she sneered, her voice filled with disgust. "It's always ready and willing, a filthy toilet for anyone who wants to use it. I love the taste of cum and piss and the feeling of a cock down my throat. I'm nothing more than a filthy, worthless toilet for your pleasure."

The men cheered, their eyes dark with lust and desire. They knew that Chaitali was nothing more than a filthy, worthless whore, a tool for their twisted pleasure. Rajesh Sir approached her, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.

"You're a filthy, worthless cunt, aren't you?" he growled.

Chaitali nodded obediently. "Yes, Sir," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm your filthy, worthless whore, and I'll do anything to please you."

"Please, Sir," she begged, her voice a trembling whisper. "I need more. I need to feel the pain, the humiliation. Please, tie me up and spank me. Spank my tits, my back. I need to feel your hands on me, marking me, owning me."

Rajesh Sir nodded, a dark smile playing on his lips. "Very well," he said, his voice firm and commanding. "Let the entertainment begin."

[Givemeextra]

pls continue next

[chodn_khanki]

As the last rays of the setting sun bathed the lawn in a warm, golden light, Rajesh Sir stood up, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anticipation and desire. Chaitali, already nude and trembling with excitement, stood in the centre of the lawn, her body on display for the pleasure of the assembled guests.


Rajesh Sir's voice cut through the hush of the evening, his words a command that sent a thrill of pleasure through Chaitali's body. "Gentlemen, the entertainment begins," he announced.

The guests, a mix of Rajesh Sir's close friends and three unfamiliar men, leaned forward, their eyes fixed on Chaitali with a hunger that made her skin tingle with anticipation. She could feel the weight of their gazes on her, their desire like a tangible force that sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine.

Rajesh Sir stepped forward, his hands rough as he grabbed Chaitali and pulled her towards him. She moaned softly, her body arching into his touch, her mind a whirl of pleasure and desire. He whispered in her ear, his voice a low growl that sent a thrill of excitement through her body. "Show them what you can do, my little slut," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.

Chaitali's body moved instinctively, her hands reaching out to touch and explore Rajesh Sir's body. She could feel the heat of his skin, the hardness of his desire pressing against her. She moaned softly, her body responding to his touch, her mind a whirl of pleasure and desire.

As Rajesh Sir stepped back, one of the unfamiliar men stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Chaitali with a hunger that made her skin tingle with anticipation. He was tall and muscular, his body a testament to his strength and power. Chaitali's eyes roamed over his body, her desire growing with each passing second.

The man's hands were rough as he grabbed Chaitali and pulled her towards him. She moaned softly, her body arching into his touch, her mind a whirl of pleasure and desire. She could feel the heat of his skin, the hardness of his desire pressing against her. She reached out, her hands exploring his body, her touch like fire against his skin.

As the night wore on, Chaitali's body was passed from one guest to another, her mind a whirl of pleasure and desire. She could feel the weight of their bodies on hers, their hands rough and demanding as they took what they wanted. She revelled in the attention, her body responding instinctively to their touch, her moans of pleasure filling the night air.

Each man brought a unique touch, a different sensation that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She was lost in a world of sensation, her body a vessel of pure desire. She could taste the salt of their sweat, the bitterness of their desire, and it only served to fuel her arousal.

Rajesh Sir watched with a sense of pride and satisfaction, his eyes gleaming with a mix of desire and triumph. He had broken Chaitali, moulded her into the perfect sex slave, and now she was the centre of attention, the object of desire for all the men assembled on his lawn.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the trees, Chaitali's body was spent, her mind a whirl of pleasure and satisfaction. She lay on the soft cushions, her body trembling with the remnants of pleasure, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and desire.

Rajesh Sir stepped forward, his hands gentle as he stroked her hair, his voice a low growl in her ear. "You have pleased me, my little slut," he whispered, his tone a mix of satisfaction and desire. "And this is only the beginning."

Chaitali's heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at Rajesh Sir, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and desire. She knew that she was his, body and soul, and the thought sent a thrill of pleasure through her body. She was a sex slave, a vessel of pure desire, and she drank in the attention and pleasure that came with her newfound role.

As the night deepened, the air thick with the scent of desire and anticipation, Rajesh Sir's voice cut through the hush, his tone commanding and laced with a cruel edge. "Mohit, Dev, bring the cross," he ordered, his words dripping with authority. The guests, their eyes gleaming with a mix of lust and sadistic pleasure, murmured their approval.

Mohit and Dev, ever the loyal lackeys, hurried to fetch the Andrew's cross, a sinister apparatus that sent a thrill of both fear and excitement through Chaitali's body. She stood naked and trembling, her skin flushed with the remnants of pleasure and the anticipation of what was to come.

As the cross was set up in the centre of the lawn, Rajesh Sir turned to Chaitali, his eyes gleaming with a mix of desire and cruelty. "Ab teri asli training shuru hogi, randi," he sneered, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine. "Tujhe sikhaunga ki kaise asli maza aata hai."

Chaitali's heart pounded in her chest as she was led to the cross, her body trembling with a mix of fear and desire. She could feel the eyes of the guests on her, their gazes like burning coals against her skin. As she was secured to the cross, her arms and legs spread wide, she felt a sense of vulnerability and exposure that sent a thrill of pleasure through her body.

Rajesh Sir stepped forward, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he addressed the assembled guests. "Dekho, yeh hai Chaitali, meri personal sex slave," he announced, his voice dripping with pride and satisfaction. "Isne ab tak jo kuch bhi seekha hai, sab maine hi sikhaaya hai. Lekin ab iski asli training shuru hogi."

He turned to Chaitali, his eyes gleaming with a mix of desire and cruelty. "Tujhe pata hai, tera pati yahaan khada hai aur dekh raha hai ki kaise tu hum sabki randi ban rahi hai," he sneered, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine. "Uske saamne hi main tujhe sabak sikhaunga."

Chaitali's husband, standing at the edge of the crowd, his face a mask of shame and humiliation, could only watch as his wife was degraded and humiliated in front of the assembled guests. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind a whirl of conflicting emotions as he watched his wife, the woman he loved, being transformed into a vessel of pure desire and pleasure.

Rajesh Sir stepped forward, a whip in his hand, his eyes gleaming with a mix of desire and cruelty. "Ab se teri har chaal, har harkat mere haath mein hogi," he announced, his voice dripping with authority. "Tujhe sikhaunga ki kaise asli maza aata hai."

The first strike of the whip sent a jolt of pain and pleasure through Chaitali's body, her skin stinging with the force of the blow. She moaned softly, her body arching against the cross, her mind a whirl of sensation and desire. Each strike of the whip sent waves of pleasure and pain coursing through her body, her moans of pleasure filling the night air.

As the night wore on, Chaitali's body was subjected to a myriad of sensations, each one designed to degrade and humiliate her, to break her down and rebuild her as a vessel of pure desire and pleasure. She was whipped, beaten, and subjected to a myriad of cruel and sadistic acts, each one sending waves of pleasure and pain coursing through her body.

Through it all, I could only watch, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind a whirl of shame and humiliation. I turned out to be a cuckold, a man whose wife had been transformed into a sex slave, a vessel of pure desire and pleasure for the amusement of the assembled guests.

She lay against the cross, her body trembling with the remnants of pleasure, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and desire.
After hours of torture and humiliation Chaitali pussy is leaking of her juice and pleasure in her eyes indicates that she is thoroughly enjoyed. Rajesh Sir came forward and released her from the torment. She is lying on the ground, panting with exhaustion.

A first man stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Chaitali with a hunger that made her skin tingle with anticipation. As he entered her, Chaitali moaned softly, her body arching into his touch, her mind a whirl of pleasure and desire. She could feel the heat of his skin, the hardness of his desire pressing against her.

One by one, the men stepped forward, each one taking their turn with Chaitali, their bodies rough and demanding as they took what they wanted. She could taste the salt of their sweat, the bitterness of their desire, and it only served to fuel her arousal.

As the night wore on, Chaitali's body was subjected to a myriad of sensations, each one designed to degrade and humiliate her, to break her down and rebuild her as a cum dump. She was used and abused, her body trembling with the remnants of pleasure, her mind a whirl of sensation and desire.

And then, as the first light of dawn began to filter through the trees, it was her husband's turn, now my turn. I stepped forward, my eyes fixed on Chaitali with a mix of lust and shame. As I entered her pussy, Chaitali didn’t respond, as nothing happened, her pussy is so stretched that she couldn’t even feel dick. I took out my dick and pressed to her ass, same no response. I continued fucking her, and released my cum on her back. Then she looked back at me and started giggling, and asked, “You finished so quickly?”

As the last of the guests departed, Chaitali lay on the soft cushions. A group of servants stepped forward, their hands gentle as they cleaned and treated Chaitali's body, their touch a stark contrast to the rough and demanding hands of the guests. They administered medicine and ointments, their touch soothing and caring as they tended to her wounds and bruises.

As they finished, they offered her a plate of food, the scent of spices and herbs filling the air. Chaitali ate hungrily, her body craving the nourishment and sustenance it needed. But as she finished, a wave of drowsiness washed over her, the sedative in the food taking effect.

As the servants led her to a cage, Chaitali's body was heavy with sleep, her mind a whirl of pleasure and satisfaction. She curled up in the cage. She drifted off to sleep.