Adultery My wife through the lens of CCTV

[ray.rowdy]

Superb Writing !!! Keep Going.

[exbiixossip2]

next update bro....

[Deepak Sanjeev]

Fantastic friend

[Ragasiyananban]

Very very nice

[Robert Smith]

Great writing bro

[khemucha]

will this file finally reveal what's eating the good wife ... will it be a record of her acceptance of LC impact on her body and life ... will we see her passionately please her lover ... will check on Jul 21st when the whole sordid drama has played itself out ...

[dragonslair]

waiting for the next one

[Robert Smith]

Waiting

[exbiixossip2]

next uupdate bro...

[Robert Smith]

Next update please

[sureshReddy5489]

Bro, please give lengthy updates. You provide only one update per week, and that's tiny. I know, this is not your primary work, and I sincerely appreciate your time and effort to entertain us, but to keep the engagement strong, I would recommend either providing frequent short updates (once every 2 to 3 days) OR one big update every weekend. Your story plot is superbbbbb!!

[couples2k9]

Really eager to waiting for next lenth uldate....

[mindhunter11]

Please update

[exbiixossip2]

next update come fast

[tharkibudda]

Chapter 12 : April 14th

With a trembling hand, I clicked on the next file, hoping beyond hope that it wouldn't contain anything worse than what I had already seen. But deep down, I knew it would.


The timestamp showed 5:55am which was activated with Dhristi waking up with a jolt. The alarm clock's shrill beep pierced the thick silence of the room, pulling her out of the nightmare she had been reliving all night.

Her heart raced as she looked over at Manav, who was sprawled out beside her, oblivious to the storm raging in her soul. She could see his chest rise and fall in the rhythmic pattern of sleep, the same chest that had once been her fortress now seemed like a prison wall. Carefully, she slid out of bed, her muscles aching with the effort not to disturb him.

Her eyes fell on the crimson stain on the bedsheet, a silent witness to her pain. With trembling hands, she gathered the fabric, her fingertips grazing the sticky residue that marked the site of her violation. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her, the smell of Lakhan's lust a noxious perfume that clung to her skin.

Dhristi clutched the sheet tightly, her knuckles white with the effort not to scream. She knew she had to cleanse herself of his touch, but the very thought of moving felt like a betrayal to the part of her that had been irrevocably changed. With a deep, shuddering breath, she managed to stand, her legs wobbling beneath her.

Her bare feet made no sound on the cold marble floor as she walked to the en suite bathroom. The digital recording captured her every step, a silent witness to her pain. She paused at the door, her hand hovering over the handle, as if she could somehow hold back the deluge of memories that waited for her on the other side.

The digital Dhristi that I watched was a ghost of the woman I knew—wraithlike and haunted. She moved with the grace of a dancer, but there was a heaviness to her steps that spoke of a burden no one should bear.

I saw myself lying in bed, lost in a deep, oblivious slumber. How many times had I done that very thing—slept peacefully while she suffered in silence? The digital recording was a cold, hard slap to the face, a stark reminder of the chasm that had grown between us.

Dhristi emerged from the bathroom, a soft towel wrapped around her bruised body. The camera didn't lie. The bruises were faint but unmistakable, a map of Lakhan's depravity etched onto her skin. She moved with a ghostly grace, as if each step was a silent scream. My heart clenched as she slid the soft fabric of the towel down her body, revealing the dark purple marks that marred her once pristine flesh.

Her eyes searched the mirror, the digital reflection showing a woman who had been to hell and back. She was a warrior, a survivor, but she looked so fragile, so broken. I wanted to reach through the screen and hold her, to tell her that I was here, that she wasn't alone. But all I could do was watch, a silent spectator to her daily ritual of pretending.

Dhristi pulled out a fresh saree from the wardrobe and She wrapped the fabric around herself like any other day.Her movements were mechanical, the very act of dressing herself felt like a mockery of the purity she had lost. The fabric clung to her bruised body, a cruel reminder of Lakhan's brutal embrace.

In the kitchen, she began to prepare breakfast with the same meticulous care she always had.  But today, it was tainted, a bitter reminder of the façade she was forced to maintain.

I woke up a bit late at around 8am, my mind still preoccupied with the looming audit at the office. Dhristi's movements around the house were as silent as the digital ghost that haunted my thoughts. She had always been a creature of habit, her morning routine as comforting as the first sip of hot tea. But today, she was a shadow, her steps as soft as the whispers of the early morning breeze.

I stumbled into the kitchen, half-asleep and half-dressed, and took my seat at the table.  She placed a plate of steaming parathas before me, her eyes avoiding mine. I didn't pay any attention as I hurriedly ate.

But now, watching the digital Dhristi, I could see the silent plea in her eyes. They searched for me, for a spark of understanding, a flicker of the connection we had once shared. Her gaze was a desperate attempt to bridge the gap that Lakhan's cruel hands had created. But my real-world self had been too lost in his own troubles to notice see the storm brewing in her soul.

As I sat there, the digital feed a stark reminder of my neglect, I felt a tear slip down my cheek. It was a silent apology for my failure as a husband, for not being there when she needed me the most. She then got dejected as I left home without even telling goodbye

As I watched her retreat to the bedroom, my mind conjured up images of the digital Dhristi, her eyes filled with a sadness so deep it could drown a man. She had hoped, maybe even prayed, that I would notice the shift in her demeanor, that I would see the pain hidden beneath her forced smile. But I had been too wrapped up in my own world to notice the cracks in hers.

The digital feed had stopped, but her suffering played on in an endless loop in my mind. She had gone outside, into the unforgiving sunlight, trying to find a semblance of normalcy in the mundane tasks that made up her day. The sight of her moving around the house, going through the motions of her daily routine, was a haunting reminder of the facade she wore so convincingly.

The digital clock on the screen ticked away the hours, each second a silent scream of the truth I had ignored for so long. At 12:35 pm, the digital Dhristi had just finished preparing a simple lunch for herself—a plate of rice and a bowl of dal. She hadn't eaten much that morning, and I had hoped she would find some solace in the warmth of a home-cooked meal. But as she approached the couch, the look on her face was one of resignation rather than hunger.

The sudden sound of the doorbell echoed through the house, shattering the brittle silence like a gunshot. The digital Dhristi froze, the spoonful of rice hovering just shy of her trembling lips. The tension in the room was palpable, a living, breathing entity that seemed to suck the air from the digital space.

Her eyes grew wide with fear, the color draining from her cheeks as she set the plate aside. It was as if she had been expecting this moment, had been dreading it with every fiber of her being. Yet she had no choice but to answer it.

The digital Dhristi took a shaky breath and made her way to the door, her bare feet whispering against the cold tiles. She paused for a moment, her hand hovering over the doorknob like it was the trigger to a bomb. And in a way, it was.

As she turned the knob, the hinges protested with a mournful squeak, the sound echoing through the empty digital hallway. She pulled the door open, and there he was—Lakhan Chand, the man who had shattered her world with his vile touch.

The digital recording showed Lakhan's leer, a twisted grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. His gaze raked over her like a predator eyeing its prey, and I felt a fresh wave of rage wash over me. Why is he here?

[Gajakidost]

Lakhan knows this bitch enjoyed the raype so he has returned to make her a habbit.

[tharkibudda]

[tharkibudda]

Chapter 12 : April 14 (Contd)

he digital recording showed Lakhan's leer, a twisted grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. His gaze raked over her like a predator eyeing its prey, and I felt a fresh wave of rage wash over me. Why is he here? What could he possibly want now? The digital scene unfolded before me, each moment a knife twisting in my gut.


Dhristi took a step back, her body visibly trembling as Lakhan strode into our home with the confidence of a man who knew he could take whatever he wanted. The digital recording didn't capture her scent, but I could almost smell the fear that must have been emanating from her pores, a bitter aroma that filled the room.

He moved with a predatory grace that made my skin crawl, his eyes never leaving her as he made his way to the sofa. He sat down, his movements languid and relaxed, as if he were settling in for a pleasant afternoon tea rather than a meeting with the woman he had so brutally violated.

"Come," Lakhan said, his voice a low, seductive purr that made the digital Dhristi's eyes widen. She took a shaky step forward, her body trembling like a leaf in a storm.

He gestured to the couch with a flourish of his hand, a silent command that sent a shiver down her spine. She knew what he wanted, what he had come for, but she couldn't refuse. The digital recording captured her hesitation, the way her knees threatened to buckle as she lowered herself onto the cushions. She sat as far from him as she could, her posture rigid, her eyes cast downward.

"Look what I did yesterday," Lakhan began, his voice a slow, deliberate taunt that made my blood boil. "It was unforgivable. I cannot give any justification for my actions."

Dhristi remained silent, her eyes fixed on the floor. The tremble in her body was the only indication of the turmoil she felt.

"I'm sorry," Lakhan continued, his words as empty as the apology that hung in the air between them. "I was tense because of the audit. Angry at your husband for screwing it up, and then I saw you, naked and vulnerable, and my mind just...made me do things." His words were a noose, tightening around my digital neck, a pathetic attempt to justify the unjustifiable.

Dhristi's silence was deafening, a testament to her strength. She didn't look up, didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing the pain in her eyes. Instead, she took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort it took to remain composed.

Lakhan leaned back into the couch, his posture a stark contrast to hers. He was the picture of casual arrogance, a man who knew he held the power in this twisted game. "But still," he began, his voice a slick, oily whisper that seemed to coil around her like a python, "that doesn't mean what I did was right. By the way, aapka naam?"

Her eyes remained downcast, her voice a mere thread of sound that seemed to struggle against the weight of his question. "Ji,Dhristi."

The digital Lakhan leaned forward, his hands clasped in a display of feigned humility. "Dhristi," he said, his tone a caress that made my skin crawl. "I am here to seek your forgiveness. I know I cannot undo what has been done, but I am willing to do anything to make this right."

Dhristi's eyes flickered up to meet his, the digital image capturing the storm of emotions that raged within her—fear, anger, confusion, and a hint of something else.

"Did you inform your husband about this?" Lakhan asked cautiously, his eyes gleaming with a mix of hope and malice. It was a question that hung in the air, thick with the weight of its implications. The digital Dhristi took a moment to compose herself before she replied, her voice shaking with a mix of defiance and despair.

"No," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "I couldn't."

Lakhan's smile grew, his eyes gleaming with victory. "Good," he purred, his voice as smooth as the silk of the pillows that had once cradled her head during their lovemaking. "It's better that way. Your husband, he's a good man, but he's weak. He couldn't fight for you. He couldn't protect you. He'd only make a fool of himself, and then where would we be?" He leaned back, his fingers playing idly with the gold chain around his neck.

"But you don't have to worry about that anymore, do you, Dhristi?" His words were a serpent coiling around her heart, squeezing tighter with every syllable. "The security officer here,I pay them 50000 per month as protection money, they're like loyal dogs. They only bite when I tell them to, and for the right price, they'll forget they ever saw anything."

The digital Dhristi's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and despair. I could see the wheels turning in her mind, the silent calculations she was making. She knew she was trapped, her fate in the hands of a monster who had no remorse for his actions.

Lakhan leaned back into the sofa, his posture one of smug satisfaction. He had come not to seek forgiveness but to assert his power, to make it clear that she was his to take whenever he desired. The digital feed captured every twitch of his sneer, every predatory gesture, and I felt my own rage building, a volcano threatening to erupt.

"You see, Dhristi," he continued, his voice as smooth as the silk of the pillows he had used to muffle her screams, "I am a powerful man in this town. If you go to the security officer, it won't just be your reputation at stake. It will be your husband's career, your family's honor."

The digital Lakhan leaned closer, his breath hot on her neck. "But," he whispered, his tone suddenly softer, almost gentle, "if you wish, you and Manav can discuss this in private. I'm willing to compensate you for the trouble I've caused." His eyes held hers, the malicious glint replaced by something that looked almost like genuine concern.

Dhristi felt the bile rise in her throat as she met his gaze. She knew what he was offering—money? But at what cost? Her dignity? Her soul? The very thought made her skin crawl. But she remained silent.

As I watched the digital drama unfold, rage boiled within me. Dhristi, my Dhristi, wasn't some object to be used and discarded. She was the embodiment of purity and love, the very essence of what made our marriage sacred. Lakhan's lewd suggestions were a desecration of everything we had built together.

My mind raced as the digital Lakhan spoke of compensation, as if her chastity could be bought and sold like a commodity in the market. I wanted to roar my objection, to tear the screen apart with my bare hands. But all I could do was watch, trapped in the digital purgatory of my own making.

Dhristi remained silent, her eyes a turbulent sea of emotions. The silence stretched on, thick and taut as a bowstring ready to snap. "So do we have a deal now?" Lakhan asked, his voice a sultry caress that seemed to slither through the digital air.

Her eyes remained glued to the floor, her breaths shallow and erratic. Her refusal to look at him was not a sign of submission but a silent rebellion, a declaration that she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her broken spirit. But the longer she avoided his gaze, the more agitated Lakhan grew. His smile began to twitch at the corners, and his eyes narrowed to slits. "Look at me when I talk to you," he snarled, his hand shooting out to grip her chin.

The digital scene was so vivid, so real, it was as if I could feel the pressure of his fingers on her face. Dhristi flinched but met his gaze, her eyes flashing with a fiery determination that I had never seen before. The digital Lakhan's grip tightened, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw in a way that was both possessive and taunting.

"Look at me," he snarled again, his voice a mix of frustration and anger. "You think you can just ignore me like that?"

Dhristi's trembling grew more pronounced as she met Lakhan's eyes, her heart racing like a wild animal trapped in a cage. The digital image of Lakhan's hand on her chin made me want to jump through the screen and rip him to shreds. But all I could do was watch.

"I left all my pride at the door when I came here," Lakhan spat, his grip on her chin tightening. "I could have any woman I want, but I chose to seek your forgiveness." His voice was a mix of anger and entitlement, as if his very act of showing up was a gift she should be grateful for.

Dhristi's eyes remained defiant, but she knew better than to push him further. With a heavy heart, she nodded, the digital image capturing the reluctant submission that made me want to weep.

Lakhan's smile grew, his eyes glinting with malice as he leaned closer. "Looks like you bitches don't understand softness," he sneered, the endearment of a knife to her soul. "But fear not, my dear," he added, his tone mockingly tender, "I am more than happy to explain the concept of power."

[tharkibudda]

Bro, please give lengthy updates. You provide only one update per week, and that's tiny. I know, this is not your primary work, and I sincerely appreciate your time and effort to entertain us, but to keep the engagement strong, I would recommend either providing frequent short updates (once every 2 to 3 days) OR one big update every weekend. Your story plot is superbbbbb!!

I'm sorry but Its tough for me to give once a week update nowadays...have a lot going on professionally and personally

[tharkibudda]