Adultery Lina - Young Massage Therapist Surrender to Desire

[arien4friendship]

Awesome!! Make her go to him again... Or probably search for that passion elsewhere

[matiba2025213]

Chapter 42: Janina (Act 15)


Janina lay still in the darkness, her body aching and her mind a whirlwind of exhaustion and unease. Rahim’s whispered words.. You’re mine… all mine” echoed in her ears like a haunting refrain.

She stared at the ceiling, the silence pressing down on her, when a sudden jolt of panic shot through her. The kids. Her breath hitched as memories of the afternoon came flooding back. The college pickup, the missed calls, her husband...how long had it been?

Her heart raced as she shot up in bed, frantically searching for her phone. “Rahim!” she hissed, shaking him awake. “My kids! I never picked them up! What time is it? My husband...oh God, he must have called!”

Rahim stirred groggily, his voice thick with sleep. “Calm down,” he said, his tone oddly calm despite her panic. He reached over to the nightstand and handed her phone to her. “Check your messages. It’s taken care of.”

Janina grabbed the phone with trembling fingers, her eyes darting across the screen. She opened her message inbox, and her breath caught as she saw a series of texts, all sent from her phone earlier that afternoon.

First, to her sister:
“Hey, I’m feeling really unwell and need to rest today. Could you please pick up the kids from college and let them stay with you tonight? I’ll come get them tomorrow since it’s Saturday and they don’t have college. Thanks so much.”

Next, to the college principal:
“Hi, this is Janina. My sister will be picking up my kids today on my behalf. Please let her know if you need anything else. Thank you.”

And then, the most shocking one to her husband:
“Hi love, I’m feeling terribly unwell today and couldn’t reach you on call. The kids are staying with my sister for the night. I’ll call you tomorrow. Don’t worry about me; I just need some rest.”

Janina’s hands trembled as she read the messages, her mind racing. “How… how did you do this?” she whispered, turning to look at Rahim. “You sent these from my phone?”

Rahim rolled onto his back, his face shadowed in the dim light. “I took care of it while you were asleep,” he said calmly, his voice devoid of the intensity it had held hours before. “You were exhausted. I didn’t want you to worry.”

Janina’s emotions tangled in a knot of anger and relief. “You had no right!” she snapped, her voice sharp but trembling. “These are my children! My husband! You pretended to be me...what gives you the right to...”

“Don’t,” Rahim interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. “They’re safe. Your husband thinks you’re resting. Everything’s fine. You needed the time, Janina.”

She stared at him, her chest heaving with a mix of frustration and gratitude. She wanted to scream at him, to demand answers, but the exhaustion weighed too heavily on her. Instead, she slumped back against the pillows, her voice barely audible. “I… I don’t even know what to say.”
Rahim didn’t respond. He simply turned away from her, his breathing already deepening as he fell back into sleep. The room grew silent again, save for the soft sound of his snoring.

Janina lay there for what felt like an eternity, her mind racing. She glanced at the clock...it was late, far later than she’d realized. Twelve hours. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Twelve hours of relentless, almost inhuman passion. She looked over at Rahim’s sleeping form, his face peaceful now, devoid of the terrifying intensity that had consumed him earlier.

Her body ached in ways she couldn’t fully process as her neck bore faint bruises from his teeth, her wrists still tingled from where he’d pinned her down, and between her legs, she felt sore in places she hadn’t known could ache. She shuddered at the memory of his crude words, his possessive actions, the way he had taken her without hesitation or restraint.

But now, lying next to him, she couldn’t reconcile that Rahim with the man asleep beside her. He seemed… normal.

Vulnerable, even. His face was soft, his breathing steady, and for the first time since this nightmare began, Janina felt a flicker of something other than fear....curiosity.

She sat up slowly, wincing at the strain on her muscles, and reached for her bathrobe dbangd over a nearby chair. Slipping it on, she turned back to Rahim and hesitated. Despite everything, she knew something wasn’t right. This wasn’t him, not the man she thought she knew. Not the man who had gone limp in the bar’s bathroom when they’d tried to sneak a moment together weeks ago.

Gathering her courage, she shook him gently. “Rahim,” she whispered. “Wake up.”
He groaned softly, his face contorting in discomfort as he stirred. When his eyes fluttered open, they were wide with confusion and pain. “Janina?” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “What… what happened?”
She hesitated, studying his face carefully.

There was no trace of the dark, predatory man from earlier, just a look of genuine bewilderment and discomfort. “You… you don’t remember?” she asked softly.

Rahim winced as he shifted slightly in bed, his hand instinctively moving to his groin. “Fuck,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “It feels like… like my cock’s been ripped off.” He glanced around the room, his expression growing more alarmed as he took in the state of the bed the tangled sheets, the faint stains, the lingering scent of sex. And then he looked at Janina.

His face paled as he took in her appearance...the disheveled hair, the bruises on her neck and wrists, the weariness in her eyes. “Janina,” he said slowly, his voice trembling with dread. “What… what did I do?”

She swallowed hard, tears welling up in her eyes as the weight of everything came crashing down on her. “You really don’t remember?” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Rahim shook his head slowly, his expression a mixture of horror and guilt. “No,” he said hoarsely. “Tell me… tell me what happened.”

Janina took a deep breath, her hands trembling as she pulled the bathrobe tighter around herself. And then she began to speak. Slowly at first, haltingly, she recounted the events of the day, the relentless passion, the crude remarks, the unprotected sex in every conceivable way, the abuse of her body, the forced acts that left her feeling violated and yet… undeniably marked by him.

As she spoke, Rahim’s face grew paler and paler until he looked almost ghostly. “No,” he whispered when she finished, his voice barely audible. “No, I wouldn’t… I couldn’t…”

“But you did,” Janina said softly, tears streaming down her face. “And it wasn’t you, Rahim. It was like… like something took over you. That jar… that ointment… you kept using it, over and over again…”

Rahim’s gaze snapped to the nightstand where the small jar still sat, its lid slightly ajar. He reached for it with trembling hands, studying the oily residue inside with a mix of fear and disgust. “This…” he murmured, his voice shaking. “This is what did it? This is what turned me into… into that?”

Janina nodded silently, her chest tight with emotion. “I don’t know what it is or where it came from,” she admitted. “But it changed you, Rahim. It made you someone else.”

For a long moment, Rahim just stared at the jar, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sudden burst of anger, he hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, the oily contents splattering across the floor in a dark, glistening stain.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “Janina, I’m so sorry.”

[matiba2025213]

Chapter 42: Janina (Act 16)


As they sat there in the dim light, the silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken words and the weight of what had transpired. Rahim’s shoulders were slumped, his face buried in his hands as he sobbed openly, the sound raw and unfiltered. Janina watched him, her own tears streaming silently down her cheeks, her body trembling beneath the soft fabric of her robe. The bruises on her skin, the bite marks on her breasts, the sticky residue that still clung to her thighs....it all felt like a cruel testament to the man who now sat broken before her.

“Janina…” Rahim’s voice cracked as he finally lifted his head, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. “I… I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt you. I swear to God, I didn’t.”

She looked at him, her expression a mix of pain and confusion. “Then why, Rahim? Why did you do it? Why did you… force me like that?” Her voice trembled, her words barely above a whisper.

Rahim shook his head, his hands clutching at his hair as if trying to pull the memories free. “I don’t know,” he choked out. “It’s like… like I wasn’t myself. I don’t even remember most of it. It’s all a blur, except for…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the floor, shame written all over his face.

“Except for what?” Janina pressed, her voice firmer now, though still laced with vulnerability.

He swallowed hard, his throat working as if struggling to form the words. “Except for that night at the bar,” he finally said, his voice barely audible. “In the bathroom. Do you remember?”

Janina frowned, her mind racing back to that night weeks ago, the way they’d snuck away from the crowd, the way he’d pinned her against the sink, the heat of his breath on her neck. She nodded slowly. “I remember.”

Rahim’s face twisted with humiliation. “I went soft,” he admitted, his voice shaking. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t perform. I was embarrassed, Janina. Ashamed. And then later, in your car…” He paused, his cheeks flushing with color. “You gave me a blowjob, and it was amazing, but I still felt… incomplete. Like I wasn’t enough for you.”

Janina’s heart ached at the raw honesty in his voice, but she couldn’t deny the truth in his words. “I never asked you to be enough,” she said softly. “I just wanted you to be you.”

Rahim let out a shaky breath, his hands falling limply into his lap. “But I wasn’t,” he whispered. “I wasn’t enough. And then… then I found that jar.”

Her eyes widened slightly as she followed his gaze to the shattered remnants of the jar on the floor. The oily substance had spilled across the tiles, glistening ominously in the dim light. “What is it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rahim hesitated for a moment before answering. “I thought it was a gift from my wife,” he admitted. “Like some kind of aphrodisiac or something. I thought maybe it could… help me. Fix whatever was wrong with me.” His voice broke, tears welling up in his eyes again. “But it didn’t fix me, Janina. It changed me. Turned me into someone… something… I don’t even recognize.”

Janina’s heart sank as she listened to his confession. “You used it this morning?” she asked, her voice trembling.
He nodded, his face pale with guilt. “I thought… I thought it would make things better. That maybe this time, I could finally give you what you deserved. What we both craved.” He let out a hollow laugh, the sound devoid of humor. “But instead, I turned into a monster.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of his words hanging heavily between them. Finally, Janina stood slowly, wincing as her body protested the movement. She walked over to the bed and began to disrobe, letting the robe fall to the floor. Rahim’s breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of her tender, fair skin marred by harsh bruises, her full breasts bearing the marks of his teeth, her body caked with the evidence of their union.

“Look at me, Rahim,” she said softly, though her voice carried a note of steel.
He shook his head vehemently, his eyes filling with tears once more. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t look at what I’ve done to you.”

But Janina wasn’t having it. She stepped closer to him, her movements deliberate despite the pain she must have felt. “You need to see this,” she insisted, her voice firm. “You need to see what you’ve done.”

Reluctantly, Rahim raised his head, his eyes meeting hers for the first time since she’d disrobed. His breath hitched as he took in the full extent of the damage, the bruises on her hips where he’d gripped her too tightly, the red marks on her thighs from where he’d pinned her down, the bite marks on her breasts that spoke of a possessiveness bordering on violence.

“Janina…” His voice broke as tears streamed down his face. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

She looked down at him, her expression unreadable as he threw himself at her feet, clinging to her legs like a man drowning in his own guilt. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, she bent down and gently pried his hands away from her.

“I should call the cops,” she said quietly, her voice calm but laced with emotion. “I should report what you did to me.”
Rahim flinched as if she’d struck him, but he didn’t argue. “You should,” he whispered hoarsely. “You have every right to.”

Janina sighed heavily, the weight of her decision weighing heavily on her shoulders. “But it’s not just about me,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “It’s about my kids. My marriage...what little is left of it.” She ran a hand through her hair, her expression conflicted. “This… this would destroy everything.”

Rahim looked up at her, his eyes filled with desperation. “Let me make it right,” he begged. “Please, Janina. Let me try to make this right.”

She shook her head slowly, tears welling up in her eyes once more. “I don’t know if you can,” she whispered. “But there’s one thing I can do.” She walked over to her purse and pulled out a small pill bottle, holding it up for him to see. “The morning-after pill,” she explained softly. “It’ll make sure nothing… comes of this.”

Rahim’s shoulders slumped with relief, but there was no mistaking the guilt etched into every line of his face. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice choked with emotion.
Janina swallowed hard, clutching the pill bottle tightly in her hand. “This doesn’t change what happened,” she said firmly, her voice trembling with suppressed anger and pain. “And it doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

“I know,” Rahim whispered, his head bowed in shame.

She stared down at him for a long moment before finally turning away, her body trembling with exhaustion and emotion. As she disappeared into the bathroom, Rahim remained on his knees, his tears falling freely as the weight of his actions and the consequences they might yet bring settled heavily on his shoulders.

[arien4friendship]

Dear author.... Awaiting the next update(s) for the story

[matiba2025213]

Chapter 42: Sari (Act 1)


The days that followed the incident with Janina were a blur of guilt and despair for Rahim. He tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy in his texts and daily calls to Lina, but his mind was consumed by the weight of what he had done. Janina’s warning echoed in his ears, her words sharp and unyielding: “Don’t engage me again in any capacity.” Rahim knew he had crossed a line that one that could never be uncrossed.

Sleep became a distant memory. Nights were spent staring at the ceiling, haunted by the memory of Janina’s tear-streaked face, the bruises he had left on her body, the way she had trembled beneath him. When morning came, he would drag himself to the shop, opening late and closing early, unable to focus on anything but the gnawing guilt in his chest.

To numb the pain, Rahim sought solace in alcohol, frequenting a pub far from the familiar faces of his neighborhood. The bar was a dingy, dimly lit place, filled with shadows and strangers. He would sit alone at a corner table, nursing his drink, lost in his thoughts. More than once, the despair almost overwhelmed him. Once, he even picked up a blade, intending to sever the cock that had betrayed him so utterly. Another time, he pressed the edge against his wrist, but the thought of Lina and their unborn child stopped him. He couldn’t leave them, not like this. His only path to redemption, he decided, was to work harder, to provide for Lina and their baby, though he knew it would never erase his sins.

On the third night at the pub, Rahim sat slumped over his drink, the sound of raucous laughter pulling him from his thoughts. Two burly men sat at a table nearby, their voices loud and crude. They were harassing a young waitress, their hands wandering where they shouldn’t. Rahim’s stomach turned as he watched them pull her toward them, their laughter echoing in the nearly empty bar.

“Come on, sweetheart,” one of the men slurred, his voice thick with alcohol and lust. He was broad-shouldered, with a leather jacket that barely contained his bulk. Tattoos snaked up his arms and down his neck, marking him as part of a biker gang. “Sit with us for a bit. We don’t bite… much.” His companion chuckled, a low, menacing sound.
The waitress, young and pretty, with a nervous smile shook her head, trying to extricate herself from their grasp. “I-I really can’t,” she stammered. “I’m working. My boss...”

“Your boss ain’t here,” the second man interrupted, his hand sliding up her thigh. He was shorter but just as muscular, his bald head gleaming under the dim light. “And neither is anyone else who’d care.”
Rahim’s knuckles tightened around his glass, but he stayed rooted to his seat. The men were intimidating, their presence suffocating. He didn’t want to cause trouble, couldn’t afford to. So he kept his gaze low, pretending not to notice the way they were grinding down that women’s agency into dust.

The first man leaned in closer to the waitress, his breath hot against her ear. “Come on, darlin’. Follow us outside for five minutes. We’ll make it worth your while.” He pulled out a wad of cash from his wallet, waving it in front of her face.
The waitress shook her head more firmly this time, her voice trembling. “No, please… I’m not interested.”

The man’s smile turned predatory. “We got condoms,” he said in a low whisper. “We’ll be quick. You won’t regret it.”

Her eyes darted around the room, searching for help, but there was no one else, just Rahim, who looked away as their gazes met. Desperation crept into her voice. “Leave me alone. Please…”

The second man stood abruptly, his chair scbanging against the floor. He grabbed her arm, his grip firm and unyielding. “You’re coming with us.”

Rahim’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched them drag her toward the exit. The first man placed a hand on her backside, squeezing roughly as they ushered her out the door. Rahim felt sick to his stomach, the weight of his inaction pressing down on him like a stone. After a few minutes of silence, he stood, leaving his drink unfinished, and headed for the door.

As he stepped into the cool night air, a faint scent caught his attention, earthy and pungent, yet strangely familiar. It took him a moment to place it, but when he did, his blood ran cold. It was the same oil. The aphrodisiac that had turned him into a monster was here, its odor lingering in the air like a curse.

His heart racing, Rahim followed the scent deeper into the alleyway. The sound of whispers and muffled cries reached his ears, growing louder as he approached. He hid behind a dumpster, his breath catching as he peered around the corner.

Under the dim glow of a lone streetlamp, he saw them, the two men pinning the waitress against the wall. One had already stripped off her top, his mouth greedily sucking at her breasts while his free hand roamed lower. The other was unbuttoning his pants, a small jar in his hand.

“Look at these tits,” the first man growled between sucks, his voice thick with lust. “So firm… so damn tight. You’re gonna love this, baby.”

The waitress whimpered, her hands pushing weakly at his chest. “Please… stop…” Her voice was barely audible, drowned out by the sound of their heavy breaths.

The second man chuckled darkly as he dipped his fingers into the jar. “She’s begging already,” he said, smearing the oily substance onto his cock. “Just wait till she feels this.” He began stroking himself, his eyes fixed on her trembling form.
Rahim’s stomach churned as he watched the scene unfold. The men exchanged crude remarks, their voices dripping with malice.

“Imagine how tight her pussy is,” the first man said, pulling her bra off completely. “Young girls like her… they’re always the best.”

“I call dibs on her ass,” the second man said with a leer. “Gonna stretch her out real good.”

The waitress cried out as one of them unbuckled his belt and pulled down his jeans, revealing his thick, swollen cock. “No… please… I don’t want this…”

“Shut up,” the first man snapped, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. “You’re gonna enjoy every second of this, whether you like it or not.”

Rahim’s fists clenched at his sides, his own arousal betraying him as he watched the scene. He knew what that oil could do, knew the hell it could unleash. And he couldn’t let it happen again..not to her.

But fear still held him back. These men were dangerous, he could see it in their eyes, in the way they moved. If he intervened, he might not walk away alive.

Yet as he stood there, frozen and conflicted, the image of Janina flashed before his eyes, her tears, her bruises, her shattered trust. He couldn’t let another woman suffer because of his cowardice.

Taking a deep breath, Rahim stepped out from the shadows, his voice shaking but firm. “Let her go.”

The men turned to him, their eyes narrowing in unison. The waitress’s gaze locked onto his plea filling hers. Rahim swallowed hard knowing there was no turning back now

[matiba2025213]

Chapter 42: Sari (Act 2)


The men turned to him, their eyes narrowing in unison. The waitress’s gaze locked onto his, her eyes filled with a desperate plea for help. Rahim’s heart pounded, but he knew there was no turning back now.

"Let her go," Rahim said again, his voice steadier this time.

The first man, the one with the tattoos and the leering grin, chuckled darkly. "You must be out of your mind, buddy. This ain’t your fight."

Before the man could react further, Rahim lunged forward. He aimed a swift punch at the man’s face, but the blow barely fazed him. The man staggered back slightly, more from surprise than pain.

"Run!" Rahim screamed at the waitress.
She didn’t need to be told twice. She bolted toward the street, her shoes slapping against the pavement as she vanished into the night. But Rahim wasn’t so lucky. The tattooed man recovered quickly, his eyes blazing with anger.

"You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that," the man spat, cracking his knuckles. "But you’re about to regret it."

Rahim tried to kick the man’s legs, but the second man, bald and burly quickly pulled up his jeans and rushed at Rahim. The fight turned into a chaotic melee of punches, kicks, and curses. Rahim was nimble, dodging and weaving, but the two men were stronger and more experienced fighters.

Just when Rahim thought he might gain the upper hand, a sudden, brutal punch landed on the back of his head. Stars burst across his vision as he fell to the ground.

The men didn’t stop. They kicked him repeatedly in the stomach, their boots heavy and unforgiving. Pain exploded through his body, and darkness crept in at the edges of his consciousness.
"Wait your turn, asshole," one of them snarled before delivering one last kick to Rahim’s ribs. "We’ll deal with you after we’re done with her."

Rahim lay motionless on the cold pavement, his body battered and bloodied. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The world around him faded into a blur of sounds and sensations. The faint scent of sex lingered in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of his own blood.

When he finally regained consciousness, his vision slowly cleared. Under the dim glow of the streetlamp, he saw what he had feared most. The waitress was pinned against the alley wall, her clothes discarded on the ground. The tattooed man was behind her, his large hands gripping her hips as he thrust into her with powerful, deliberate strokes.

"You’re so fucking tight," the man groaned, his voice thick with lust. "Tightest I’ve had in years."

The waitress’s small frame trembled with each thrust. Her hands pressed against the rough brick wall for support, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. Soft, muffled moans escaped her lips, a mix of pain and reluctant pleasure.

"Fuck… you’re taking me so well," the man continued, his tone almost conversational despite the intensity of the act. "I can’t believe how wet you are. You’re loving this, aren’t you?"

The waitress shook her head weakly, tears streaming down her face. "Pl-please… stop…"

But the man only chuckled, his grip tightening on her hips. "Oh, come on, sweetheart. You don’t mean that. Your body’s telling a different story."

He slowed his pace slightly, savoring every inch of her as he moved in and out of her. His breath hitched as he leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear. "You feel amazing," he murmured. "I could do this all night."

Rahim watched helplessly, his body too broken to intervene. The scene was both horrifying and mesmerizing. The man’s bare ass slammed into the waitress’s hips with a rhythmic slap that echoed through the alley. His cock stretched her impossibly tight, each thrust drawing a gasp or whimper from her.

"Shit… I can’t hold on much longer," the man groaned. He turned his head slightly to address his companion, who stood nearby keeping watch. "You’re gonna love this one. She’s tighter than the last girl we had."

The other man nodded, his eyes glued to the scene unfolding before him. He held a small jar in his hand, the same oily substance that had once consumed Rahim. His fingers twitched as if eager to take his turn.

The tattooed man shifted his weight, driving deeper into the waitress. "Sorry, love," he muttered breathlessly. "I only brought one condom. Guess you’re getting my load straight up."

He grunted loudly, his hips bucking erratically as he came inside her. The waitress gasped, her body tensing as she felt him fill her. He stayed buried deep for a few moments before pulling out with a wet pop.

The second man stepped forward immediately, handing his friend the jar of oil. "My turn," he said simply.

The tattooed man took the jar and began applying the oil to his flaccid cock while his friend approached the waitress. She was visibly exhausted, her legs trembling as she tried to stand upright. The bald man grabbed her arm roughly and guided her to the ground where he had laid out his jacket.
"Lie down," he commanded.

The waitress hesitated, but there was no fight left in her. She obeyed, lowering herself onto the makeshift bed. The man positioned himself between her legs, his cock already slick with oil and halfway erect. He gripped her hips and guided himself into her.

Her gasp of pain was sharp as he entered her slowly but firmly. "Fuck… you’re even tighter than he said," he muttered, his voice strained with effort.

The waitress squeezed her eyes shut, tears slipping down her cheeks. "It hurts… please…"

"Shhh," the man soothed mockingly. "Just relax. You’ll get used to it." He began moving her hips up and down on his cock, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm.

The tattooed man stood nearby, watching intently as he stroked himself with the oil-coated jar in hand. "How’s she feeling?" he asked casually.

"Like a virgin," the bald man replied with a smirk. "Tightest I’ve ever had."
The waitress whimpered as he thrust deeper, her small body struggling to accommodate his size. She felt like she was being torn apart, yet there was an undeniable spark of pleasure mixed with the pain.

"Good girl," the bald man murmured, his hands roaming over her body. "You’re taking me so well." He leaned down to suck on one of her nipples, eliciting a soft moan from her.

The tattooed man grew impatient. He stepped closer to the action, his now fully erect cock slick and glistening under the dim light.

"Mind if I join in?" he asked with a sly grin.
The balding man didn’t object. He adjusted her position slightly so that she was straddling him, allowing the tattooed man to kneel beside her and guide his cock to her lips.

"Open wide," he instructed.
The waitress hesitated briefly before reluctantly parting her lips. He slid into her mouth slowly, savoring the sensation as she began to suck him off.

"That’s it," he groaned appreciatively. "Your mouth is just as tight as your pussy."
Both men moved in tandem, their bodies slick with sweat and lust, their grunts filling the alleyway with a primal rhythm.

The waitress was trapped between them, her small frame trembling under their combined assault. The tattooed man gripped the back of her head, forcing his cock deeper into her mouth, while the bald man thrust up into her pussy from below, his hands squeezing her waist possessively.

“Fuck, I can’t hold it anymore,” the tattooed man growled, his voice rough and ragged. His hips bucked erratically as he grabbed her hair tighter, forcing her to take him deeper. “You suck so fucking good with that little mouth of yours. I’m gonna blow.”

The waitress gagged slightly, her eyes watering as she tried to accommodate his size. Her muffled cries were lost beneath the wet, obscene sounds of his cock sliding in and out of her throat. She could taste the saltiness of his precum, feel the throbbing vein on his shaft against her tongue.

“Damn it, neither can I,” the bald man grunted, his thrusts growing faster and harder. He leaned forward, his hands moving to her hips as he drove himself deeper into her tightness. “Shit, I can’t believe I’m cumming so fast. I already fucked her once, but she’s just too fucking tight.”

The tattooed man chuckled darkly, his voice strained as he fought to hold back his release. “Yeah, she’s got a mouth like a vice grip too. Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever been this close this quick.”

The waitress whimpered weakly, her body trembling as she was used by both men. Her arms hung limply at her sides, her hands clutching at nothing as she surrendered to their relentless pace. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the saliva that dripped from her lips. She wanted to scream, to beg them to stop, but her throat was too full of cock to make a sound.

“That’s it, baby,” the bald man murmured, his voice thick with lust. “Take it all. You’re doing so good for us.” His hips slammed into hers with a force that made her entire body jolt. “Fuck, I can’t hold back anymore. I’m gonna fill you up.”

The tattooed man groaned loudly, his cock twitching violently in her mouth. “Oh fuck, here it comes,” he gritted out, his fingers tightening in her hair. “Swallow it all, you little slut.”

The waitress had no choice. As both men came simultaneously, she felt the warm, thick spurts of cum flooding her mouth and pussy. The tattooed man’s release shot down her throat, forcing her to swallow quickly to keep from choking. At the same time, the bald man’s load filled her cunt, the sheer volume of it leaking out around his cock and dripping down her thighs.

“Fuck yeah,” the bald man panted, still thrusting shallowly as he emptied himself inside her. “Look at that. She’s dripping my cum already. Goddamn, she’s perfect.”

The tattooed man pulled out of her mouth with a wet pop, his cock glistening with her saliva and his own release. He looked down at her with a satisfied grin, watching as the last drops of cum oozed from her lips and dripped onto her chest. “Shit, look at her tits. All covered in my load. That’s a sight that could make any man hard.”

The waitress lay there, dazed and utterly spent. Her body was a mess, her pussy swollen and leaking cum, her breasts streaked with their fluids, her lips red and bruised from the rough treatment. She barely had the strength to lift her head, her eyes half-lidded as she stared up at them.

“You did good, sweetheart,” the bald man said softly, running a hand over her hair almost affectionately. “Real good.”
The tattooed man chuckled darkly as he wiped his cock clean on the edge of her discarded shirt. “Yeah, you’re a natural. Maybe we should keep you around for a while.”

Rahim watched from the shadows, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear, guilt, and arousal.

[matiba2025213]

Chapter 43: Sari (Act 3)


Rahim’s body lay crumpled on the cold pavement, his vision blurred but his hearing sharp enough to catch the hushed whispers between the two men. The tattooed guy leaned in close to the bald man, his voice low and menacing, a predator strategizing his next move. The bald man nodded, a grim understanding passing between them. Rahim’s stomach churned as he watched them reach for the small jar he knew all too well. They slathered the oily substance onto their cocks with practiced ease, their flaccid lengths surging back to life almost instantly, thick and throbbing with renewed vigor.

The waitress, her body already trembling from the abuse she’d endured, began to plead. “Please… no more,” she sobbed, her voice breaking. “I can’t take it…”

The tattooed guy smirked, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t have a choice. See, your boss? He owes us a lot of money. Couldn’t pay on time. So, he told us we could… collect from you instead.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “No… no, that’s not true! I just started working here three weeks ago! He wouldn’t...We are in love.”

“He did,” the bald man interrupted, his voice cold and final. “And now you’re ours.”
Rahim’s heart sank, his mind reeling at the sheer cruelty of it. He tried to scream, to shout for them to stop, but his voice caught in his throat, swallowed by the weight of his helplessness.

The tattooed guy laid down on the jacket they’d used earlier, spreading his legs and positioning himself beneath the waitress. “Come on, darlin’,” he said, his voice deceptively soft. “Climb on top. Let’s make this easy for you.”

Reluctantly, she obeyed, her body trembling as she straddled him. Her tightness stretched around his thick cock as she sank down, her breath hitching with every inch. She managed five shaky strokes before she froze, her eyes wide with panic as she felt the bald man’s presence behind her.

“N-no…” she stammered, her voice cracking. “Not there… please, not there!”
The tattooed guy chuckled darkly, his hands gripping her hips to hold her in place. “Oh, don’t be shy,” he said, his voice thick with amusement. “You’ll love it. Just relax.”

The bald man didn't wait for her to comply. He grabbed her waist, his fingers digging into her skin as he positioned himself at her other entrance. Her body tensed, her screams of protest muffled by the overwhelming sensation of being breached in both holes simultaneously.

“Fuck… she’s so tight,” the bald man groaned, his voice strained. “You weren’t kidding.”

The waitress whimpered, her body trembling as she was stretched to her limits. The tattooed guy locked her hips in place, his cock buried deep inside her pussy as the bald man pushed into her asshole with slow, deliberate thrusts.
“That’s it,” the tattooed guy encouraged, his voice low and guttural. “Take it, baby. You’re doing so good.”

“Shit… I can’t believe how tight she is,” the bald man muttered, his breath hitching as he bottomed out inside her. “Fuck, this is amazing.”

The waitress let out a strangled gasp, her body trembling as both men began to move in unison. The sensation was overwhelming with pain and pleasure colliding in a dizzying spiral. She clutched at the tattooed guy’s chest, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to anchor herself against the relentless assault.

“Yeah, that’s it,” the tattooed guy growled, his hips bucking up into hers. “Take every inch of me.” as he squeezes her hips hard.
The bald man groaned as he thrust deeper into her ass, his hands gripping her boobs tightly. “Fuck… she’s clenching so hard,” he muttered. “I’m not gonna last long.”

“Neither am I,” the tattooed guy admitted, his voice rough with arousal. “Let’s give her everything we’ve got.”

Their movements quickened, their bodies slamming into hers with a force that seemed to shake the very air around them. The tattooed man, still buried deep inside her pussy, leaned forward, his mouth latching onto one of her breasts with a ferocity that bordered on animalistic. He sucked hard, his teeth grazing her nipple as he moaned into her flesh, the sound muffled but no less intense.

The bald man, driving into her asshole with relentless precision, reached over with his large, calloused hands and grabbed her other breast, squeezing it roughly. His fingers dug into her soft flesh, the contrast between his rough grip and the tender way she’d been handled before was stark.

“Damn, she’s tight,” the bald man growled, his voice strained as he pulled back slightly before thrusting in again. “Feels like I’m fucking a virgin tonight.”

“She might as well be,” the tattooed man chuckled darkly, pulling away from her breast with a wet pop. He looked down at her, his eyes glinting with a mix of lust and cruelty. “Only your boss had you before us, right, sweetheart? Bet he didn’t fuck you like this.”

The waitress gasped, her body trembling as both men moved in sync, their cocks sliding in and out of her with a wet, rhythmic squelch. “P-please…” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s… too much…” The men ignored her pleas.

The tattooed man smirked, his hand moving from her hip to grip her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Too much?

You’re taking us both like a champ, baby. Look at you.” He glanced down at where their bodies were joined, the sight of his thick cock disappearing into her pussy while the bald man’s plunged into her asshole. “Fuck, look at that. Two cocks stretching you wide open. You’re dripping...can’t get enough of us, can you?”

“Sh-she’s clenching so hard,” the bald man groaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He reached down to where he was entering her asshole, spreading her cheeks wider with his fingers as he watched himself slide in and out of her tight hole. “Think she likes it rough.”

The waitress whimpered, her body arching as the bald man hit a spot deep inside her that sent jolts of pleasure through her despite the pain. She tried to speak, but her words came out in a broken sob. “I-I can’t… it’s too… too deep…”

“Too deep?” the tattooed man repeated with a dark laugh. He shifted slightly, driving his cock even deeper into her pussy, the head brushing against her cervix. “That’s the point, sweetheart. We’re gonna make sure you feel this for days.”
The bald man leaned forward, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered, “You’re taking us so well, baby. Both holes stretched wide open for us. Bet you never thought you’d be able to handle two cocks at once, huh?”

The waitress shook her head weakly, tears streaming down her face. “N-no… I… I can’t…”

“But you are,” the tattooed man interrupted, his tone almost proud. He gripped her hips tighter, pulling her down onto his cock as he thrust up into her. “Look at how good you’re doing. Your little pussy’s gripping me so tight like you’re trying to milk my cock dry.”

The bald man let out a low groan, his fingers digging into her breast as he increased his pace. “Her ass is even tighter. Feels like she’s sucking me in.” He pulled back slightly, his cock glistening with her slickness before slamming back in. “Fuck… I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”

The tattooed man chuckled, his breath hitching as he felt her pussy clench around him. “Same here. She’s got me on edge.” He looked down at her, his eyes dark with lust. “You’re gonna make us cum, sweetheart. Both of us. Right inside you.”
The waitress’s eyes widened in panic. “N-no… please… don’t...”

“Oh, we will,” the bald man interrupted, his voice harsh but tinged with arousal. “And you’re gonna take it all, every last drop. Both holes filled to the brim.”

The tattooed man leaned back, his hands gripping her thighs as he slammed into her with renewed force. “Yeah, she’s gonna love it,” he muttered, his voice rough. “Feel that? How your pussy’s gripping me like you don’t want me to leave? You’re gonna miss this when we’re done.”

The bald man groaned as he felt her ass tighten around him, his thrusts growing more erratic. “Fuck… she’s clenching again. I can’t...I’m gonna...”

“Me too,” the tattooed man gritted out, his hips stuttering as he felt his orgasm building. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill her up.”

The waitress whimpered, her body trembling as both men reached their peaks simultaneously. She felt their cocks pulse inside her, thick ropes of cum flooding her pussy and asshole.

“Take it all,” the tattooed man growled, his voice low and guttural as he emptied himself inside her. “Every fucking drop.”
The bald man leaned forward, his hands gripping her waist tightly as he came deep in her asshole. “Fuck… you feel amazing,” he murmured, his breath hitching as he spilled himself inside her.

Rahim watched from the shadows, his heart pounding in his chest as the scene unfolded before him. The waitress lay between the two men, her body trembling with aftershocks as they continued to thrust shallowly, milking the last drops of their release. Her small frame was dwarfed by theirs, her skin glistening with sweat and their cum.

Rahim lay there for a moment, his body aching from the beating he had taken, but his mind reeling from what he had just witnessed. The sound of their voices echoed in his ears, their crude remarks echoing in his mind.

As he slowly pushed himself up from the ground, he noticed the small jar lying on the pavement nearby, its oily contents glistening faintly under the dim light of the streetlamp.He vowed never to use it again even though temptation lingered.

For a moment, there was only the sound of their heavy breathing and the faint dripping of cum onto the pavement. Then the tattooed guy chuckled darkly, running a hand over the waitress’s trembling back.

“Damn, girl,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’re one hell of a fuck.”

The bald man pulled out slowly, admiring the mess they’d made of her. “Yeah,” he agreed, his tone lecherous. “We should come back for seconds.”

They dressed quickly, tossing crude remarks at the waitress as they left her there, broken and spent. Rahim watched in stunned silence, his own cock throbbing painfully in his pants as he came involuntarily, the sight of their depravity imprinting itself on his mind forever.

Rahim waited until they were out of sight before crawling toward her, his movements slow and pained.

“Are you okay?” he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible.
The waitress didn’t respond. She just lay there, staring blankly at the sky, her body trembling with exhaustion and the lingering effects of their passion.

[matiba2025213]

Chapter 43: Sari (Act 4)


The cold alley air bit into Rahim’s skin as he finally moved, every muscle screaming in protest. He crawled toward the crumpled form on the ground, the gravel scbanging against his knees.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice rough and raw. “Can you hear me?”
A shallow breath was her only reply. Her eyes, wide and unblinking, were fixed on the patch of night sky between the buildings.

“I’m going to help you up, okay?” he said, his tone low and careful, as if speaking to a frightened animal. He slid one arm under her shoulders, the other supporting her back. She flinched at the contact, a tiny, involuntary spasm that made his gut clench. “It’s just me. They’re gone.”

He lifted her slowly. She was lighter than he expected, a bundle of trembling limbs. She clutched the torn remnants of her top to her chest with one hand, the other hung limply at her side. Her shorts were askew, barely clinging to her hips.

“My… my things,” she mumbled, her voice a shattered whisper. “I can’t find…”
“Don’t worry about them,” Rahim said, shrugging out of his own battered jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders. It swallowed her small frame. “We need to get you out of here.”

He helped her stand, her legs buckling immediately. He caught her, her weight leaning heavily into him. She smelled of sweat, cheap beer, and something else, something metallic and fearful.

“The bar… my room is there,” she said, her words slurring with exhaustion.
“No,” Rahim said, the word coming out firmer than he intended. He softened his voice. “You can’t go back there. Your boss… he let this happen. He’s not going to protect you.”

She started to cry then, silent tears carving clean paths through the grime on her cheeks. “I have nowhere else to go.”
“We should call the security officer,” Rahim urged, pulling out his phone. The screen was cracked. “We have to report this.”

“No!” The word was a sharp, sudden burst of energy. She pushed against his chest weakly. “No security officer. Please. My family… I only left my village three weeks ago. The shame… it would destroy my mother. They can’t know. Please.”

The desperation in her voice was a physical thing. He looked at her, so young, so utterly broken and knew he’d lost the argument before it began. He nodded slowly, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “Okay. Okay, no security officer.”

He pulled her into a careful hug, letting her cry into his shirt. Her body shook against his, each sob a quiet tremor. He felt a confusing rush of protectiveness and a searing, ugly guilt for the part of him that had been aroused by the violence.

“Come on,” he said after a moment, his voice gentle. “I’ll take you to my place. It’s safe.”
Getting her onto his motorcycle was a clumsy, pain-filled ordeal. He settled her on the back, guiding her arms around his waist. “Just hold on,” he instructed. She rested her forehead between his shoulder blades, her grip thankfully strong enough to keep her upright.

The ride to his apartment was a silent blur of neon and shadow. He drove slowly, hyper-aware of the fragile person clinging to him. Inside his home, the sterile quiet was a stark contrast to the chaos they’d left behind.

He sat her on the closed lid of the toilet in his bathroom and fetched his first aid kit. He handed her a tube of antiseptic ointment.

“For the… for any cuts,” he said, his eyes avoiding the bruises already darkening on her arms. He then opened the medicine cabinet, his fingers hesitating before he picked out a small foil packet and a bottle of pills. “And these. It’s a morning-after pill. And painkillers. Just… just in case.”

She took them from him without a word, her eyes downcast.

“I’m Rahim, by the way.”

She looked up then, meeting his gaze for the first time. Her eyes were a deep, liquid brown. “Sari,” she whispered.

“The bedroom is through there,” he said, pointing. “You can shower. There are clean towels. I’ll find you something to wear.” He left her and went to Lina’s side of the closet, his heart aching with a fresh wave of guilt. He pulled out an old, soft cotton t-shirt and a pair of lounge shorts. He held them out to her in the bathroom doorway.

“These should… they might be big, but they’re clean.”

She took the clothes, her fingers brushing against his. “Thank you.”

He left her alone, closing the door behind him. He stood in the hallway for a moment, listening to the click of the lock. He then tended to his own wounds, wiping the blood from his face and stomach with a wet cloth. The gash on his abdomen was superficial but stung like hell.

The shower ran for a long time. Rahim busied himself in the small kitchen, making two simple plates of rice and leftover curry, his body aching with a deep, bone-tired exhaustion.

When Sari finally emerged, the steam from the bathroom followed her like a ghost. Lina’s t-shirt swam on her, the neckline slipping off one shoulder, the shorts felt loose and clung below her waist. Her dark hair was damp and clung to her neck. She looked small and impossibly young, but clean. The sight of her in his wife’s clothes sent a strange, uncomfortable pang through him.

“I made some food,” he said, gesturing to the small dining table. “You should eat.”
She nodded, sitting down gingerly. She picked up a fork but just pushed the food around the plate. A single tear splashed onto the wood next to her plate, then another.

Rahim sat across from her, not touching his own food. “I am so sorry, Sari. I should have… I don’t know what I should have done, but I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it.”

She shook her head, still looking down. “You tried. You got hurt because of me. Those men… they would have killed you.”
“They didn’t,” he said, offering a weak smile that felt more like a grimace. “I’m tougher than I look.”

She finally looked up, her eyes red-rimmed but clear. “Why did you help me? You didn’t have to. You could have just walked away.”

The question hung in the air between them. Rahim searched for an answer, but all he found was a jumble of guilt, a twisted sense of responsibility, and the memory of his own unwanted excitement. “Because it was the right thing to do,” he finally said, the words sounding inadequate even to him.

They sat in silence for a while longer, the weight of the unspoken horrors pressing down on them. The hour was late, the apartment cloaked in a heavy quiet.
Rahim finally stood. “You should get some sleep. Take the bed. I’ll be out here on the sofa.”

“I can’t take your bed,” she protested softly.
“Please...you will,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He grabbed a pillow and a spare blanket from a cupboard. “Get some rest, Sari.”

He turned off the main light, plunging the living room into darkness, and settled onto the couch. He could hear the soft creak of the bed as she lay down in the other room.

He stared at the ceiling, the images from the alley playing on a relentless loop behind his eyes. The sound of her crying, soft and hopeless, started up again from the bedroom, a quiet counterpoint to the frantic beating of his own heart.

[matiba2025213]

Chapter 43: Sari (Act 5)


Rahim lay on the couch, his body tense and restless. The small jar of oil he’d taken from the burly men felt heavy in his pocket, as if it carried the weight of the night’s horrors. He’d meant to smash it, to throw it away, but something, some twisted curiosity or guilt had stopped him. He pulled it out now, turning it over in his hands. The liquid inside sloshed faintly, catching the dim light from the street outside. He clenched his jaw, disgusted with himself for keeping it, but he couldn’t bring himself to let it go just yet.

The sound of Sari’s muffled sobs drifted from the bedroom, cutting through the silence like a knife. Each cry was a reminder of his failure, of the violence he hadn’t been able to stop. Rahim sat up, his chest tight, and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t stay here, listening to her pain. He had to do something.

He stood, the jar still clutched in his hand, and hesitated. Finally, he tucked it back into his pocket and walked to the bedroom door. He knocked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Sari? Are you awake?”
There was a pause before her trembling voice replied. “Yes.”

He opened the door cautiously, stepping inside. She was sitting up in bed, the blankets pulled tightly around her as if they could shield her from the world. Her face was pale, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Rahim’s heart ached at the sight.

“I… I heard you crying,” he said, his voice thick with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Sari. I should have done more to protect you. I should’ve..”

She shook her head, cutting him off. “You did enough. You got hurt because of me. I don’t blame you. It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about what happened.”

Rahim swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words. He reached into his pocket again, this time pulling out a small bottle of anti-anxiety pills Lina kept in the medicine cabinet. “Here,” he said gently, handing her one along with a glass of water from the bedside table. “This might help you sleep. Please take it.”

She hesitated, her fingers trembling as she took the pill. “Thank you,” she whispered before swallowing it with a sip of water. “I don’t know what I’d do without your kindness.”

Rahim forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s going to be okay, Sari. Once you go back to your hometown, things will get better. You’ll be safe there.”
Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she nodded. “I hope so.”

He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him. “Rahim?” she called softly.
He turned back to face her. “Yes?”
“Can you… can you stay with me? Just for a little while?” Her voice was fragile, like a thread stretched too thin. “I’m afraid to be alone right now.”

Rahim hesitated, his stomach knotting with uncertainty. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
She nodded quickly, her hands clutching the blanket tighter. “Please. I trust you.”
He let out a slow breath and grabbed the pillow he’d been using on the couch. He placed it on the floor next to the bed and lay down, trying to make himself as unobtrusive as possible. “I’ll be right here,” he said quietly.

The room fell into silence for a moment before Sari spoke again. “This is your house, Rahim. You shouldn’t have to sleep on the floor.”

“It’s fine,” he assured her, though the hard surface was already pressing uncomfortably against his back.
“At least join me on the bed,” she insisted, her voice soft but firm. “I promise I won’t bother you.”

Rahim froze, his heart skipping a beat. “I… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” she asked, her tone innocent but laced with a quiet desperation. “I trust you, Rahim. I just don’t want to be alone. I feel safer with you here.”

He hesitated, torn between his concern for her well-being and the unease stirring in his chest. Finally, he gave in, standing up and placing his pillow on the bed. He lay down beside her, careful to keep a respectful distance between them. “There,” he said quietly. “Now try to get some rest.”

She turned onto her side to face him, her eyes searching his in the dim light. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For everything.”
Rahim nodded, avoiding her gaze. “You don’t have to thank me.”

Neither of them spoke for a while, but sleep didn’t come easily for either of them. The events of the night hung heavily in the air, refusing to let go.

“Rahim?” Sari broke the silence again after a few moments.
“Yes?”
“What are you thinking about?”
He sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Everything, I guess. What happened tonight… it’s hard to process.”

“Me too,” she admitted softly. “I keep replaying it in my mind. I can’t make it stop.”

Rahim turned his head to look at her, his expression filled with remorse. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
She reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing lightly against his hand on the bed between them. “It’s not your fault. You saved me.”

Her touch sent a jolt through him, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let her hand rest there, offering what little comfort he could. “I wish I could’ve done more.”

“You’ve done enough,” she insisted, her voice barely audible. “More than anyone else would have.”
They lapsed into silence again, but this time it felt less heavy, less suffocating. Slowly, Rahim felt the tension in his body begin to ease.

“Rahim?” Sari whispered after a while.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for staying with me,” she said, her voice drowsy now as the pill began to take effect.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied softly, watching as her eyelids fluttered closed.

Her breathing slowed, and soon she was asleep, her hand still resting lightly on his. Rahim stayed awake a little longer, staring at the ceiling and grappling with the storm of emotions inside him. He didn’t know what the morning would bring, but for now, all he could do was make sure she felt safe.

As exhaustion finally claimed him, he drifted off beside her, their breaths falling into sync in the quiet darkness of the room.

[matiba2025213]

Chapter 43: Sari (Act 6)


A while later, Rahim drifted into a restless sleep, his body still tense from the night’s events. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional soft whisper of Sari’s breathing. But just as he began to settle, a strange, muffled sound pulled him back to consciousness.

He blinked his eyes open, disoriented, and turned his head toward the source of the noise. It was Sari. She lay curled in a fetal position beside him, her breathing deep and uneven, punctuated by soft gasps that seemed to escape her lips involuntarily. Her hands were moving subtly, almost imperceptibly, beneath the sheets.

Rahim’s brow furrowed. What’s happening to her? he thought, his mind still clouded with sleep. He propped himself up on one elbow, peering at her face in the dim light. Her expression was almost peaceful, but there was something… different. Something intimate.

Curiosity got the better of him. Carefully, he lifted the edge of the sheet covering her. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

Sari’s hands were moving rhythmically between her thighs. Her fingers were buried in her crotch area, rubbing gently but insistently. Her hips shifted slightly with each motion, her breaths growing heavier. She was mumbling something under her breath, a stream of incoherent whispers that Rahim strained to make out.
“Please… help me…” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Oh… oh God…”

Rahim’s heart pounded in his chest. He could see now that Lina’s loose shorts had slipped down to her thighs, revealing the soft curve of her bare bottom. She wasn’t wearing any panties, and the sight of her like this...vulnerable, exposed, yet so unaware sent a jolt of heat straight to his groin.

This is wrong, he told himself firmly, even as his body betrayed him. His cock throbbed painfully, pressing against the fabric of his boxers. She’s not even awake. I need to stop this.

But his hands moved of their own accord. Nervously, he reached out, trying to pull her hands away from her crotch. As he did, his fingers brushed against her wetness. She was damp, slick with arousal, and the sensation sent a shiver through him.
Sari’s breath hitched in response. Her hips arched slightly, a soft moan escaping her lips. “Mmm… yes…”

Rahim froze, his mind racing. She’s not awake, he reminded himself. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. But the way her body responded to his touch made it impossible for him to pull away entirely.

“Sari…” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You need to stop.”

But she didn’t stop. Her movements became more deliberate, her breathing more erratic.

Rahim hesitated, his hand trembling as it hovered over Sari’s shoulder. Her soft moans filled the room, her body writhing beneath the sheet in a way that made his pulse quicken. He could see the faint outline of her hips moving rhythmically, her fingers hidden under the fabric. She’s not awake, he reminded himself, guilt twisting in his chest. She’s still traumatized, still vulnerable.

“Sari…” he whispered, his voice trembling with restraint. “You need to stop.”

But she didn’t stop. Her movements became more deliberate, her breathing more erratic, each gasp sending a jolt of heat through him. Rahim’s cock throbbed painfully, aching with need as he stared at her innocent, trembling form. She’s so pure, so untouched, he thought, his mind warring between desire and responsibility. But she’s just been through hell. She doesn’t deserve this.

He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to give in. What would her elder brother do? The thought hit him like a cold splash of water. He’d protect her. He’d make sure no one ever hurt her again. Rahim’s shoulders slumped as tears welled in his eyes, the weight of his failure to shield her earlier crashing down on him once more.

Taking a deep breath, he gently pulled the sheet up to cover her exposed legs, tucking it around her with care. “Sari,” he said softly, shaking her shoulder gently. “Wake up.”

Her eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding her expression as she looked up at him. “R-Rahim?” she murmured, her voice hoarse from sleep. “What’s wrong?”
He hesitated, unsure how to broach the subject without embarrassing her further.

“You were… moving in your sleep,” he said carefully, avoiding her gaze. “I think you were having a nightmare or… something.”
Sari sat up slowly, clutching the sheet to her chest. Her cheeks flushed as realization dawned on her face. “Was I… was I touching myself?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Rahim nodded, his heart aching at the shame in her eyes. “It’s okay, Sari,” he said quickly. “You weren’t aware of what you were doing. It’s probably just your body reacting to everything that happened earlier.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face in her hands. “I’m so ashamed,” she sobbed. “I don’t even know what’s happening to me anymore.”

“Hey, look at me,” Rahim said firmly, crouching beside the bed so they were eye level. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Sari. You’ve been through something unimaginable, and your body is just trying to cope. It’s not your fault.”

She sniffled, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “Why didn’t you… why didn’t you take advantage of me? Most men would have.”

Rahim recoiled as if she’d struck him. “I could never do that to you, Sari. You trust me, and I won’t betray that trust. Not after everything you’ve been through.”
Her lower lip trembled as she reached out to grasp his hand. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“For protecting me when no one else would.”
He squeezed her hand gently, forcing a small smile. “You deserve to feel safe, Sari. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you are.”

She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. Rahim froze for a moment before returning the hug cautiously, his hand resting lightly on her back. “Thank you,” she repeated, her tears soaking into his shirt. “You’re the only person who’s treated me with kindness in so long.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured, pulling away after a moment. “It’s the least I can do.”

Sari wiped her tears again, a determined look crossing her face. “I… I think I’ll be okay now,” she said softly. “You don’t have to stay with me anymore.”

But Rahim shook his head firmly. “I promised I’d be here for you, and I will be. But just to make sure you feel comfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”

Her eyes widened in protest. “Rahim, no. This is your home, your bed. I should be the one....”

“No arguments,” he interrupted gently but firmly. “I’ll be fine on the floor. You need a proper night’s rest.”

As he settled in, Sari lay back down, pulling the sheets up to her chin. “Good night, Rahim,” she whispered.

“Good night, Sari,” he replied softly.
As they both drifted off to sleep eventually, a sense of peace settled over the room.

[matiba2025213]

Chapter 44: Sari (Act 7)


The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Rahim woke first, stretching as he sat up from the floor. His muscles protested slightly from the hard surface, but he ignored the discomfort, focusing instead on Sari.

She was still asleep on the bed, her face peaceful and serene for the first time since he’d met her. He watched her for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips. She deserves this, he thought. A moment of peace after everything.

Quietly, he stood and began preparing breakfast in the kitchen with a simple meal of eggs and toast and not wanting to disturb her rest.

The sound of shuffling feet drew his attention, and he turned to see Sari standing in the doorway, clutching Lina’s oversized shirt tightly against herself. Her hair was messy from sleep, but she looked refreshed.

“Morning,” she said shyly.
“Morning,” Rahim replied with a warm smile. “I made breakfast.”

Her eyes lit up at the sight of the plate he handed her. “Thank you,” she said softly.

As they ate together at the small dining table, a comfortable silence fell between them, a stark contrast to the heavy tension of the night before.

Finally, Sari broke the silence, looking up at him with determination in her eyes. “Rahim… thank you for everything. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

He shook his head modestly. “You don’t have to thank me, Sari. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She reached across the table to squeeze his hand briefly before pulling away again self-consciously but there was gratitude written all over her face.