Adultery FALL OF THE ARROGANT MOTHER

[Momhunter123]

Part 8 -  The DESTRUCTION

Rocky wrapped his fingers deep into her loose, wet hair and pulled her head back until her sindoor-smeared face pointed straight up.  

The thick, hard cock stood right in front of her mouth, ready to break twenty-five years of her married life.

“Open your mouth and take it.”

Those words finished her. She had never once put Sunirmal’s thing in her mouth.  Years ago, alone in the house, she had opened a wrong video by mistake and watched a big black man push his cock into a white woman’s mouth. She couldn’t stop her hand from sliding inside her petticoat for almost a minute before shame made her close the phone and delete everything.

Now a real cock touched her lips for the first time.

Rocky didn’t wait....He pushed the swollen head forward and her lips opened around it.  

Heat filled her mouth first, then the salty, strong taste. A clear drop leaked from the tip and spread over her tongue.

She gagged at once, but Rocky held her hair tight and kept sliding in.

Her lips stretched wide and started to hurt. Thick saliva poured out, running down her chin in long strings that dropped onto her heavy, bare breasts with soft, wet sounds.

He went deeper until the head pressed against the back of her throat.  

She gagged harder. Tears come, filling her eyes for those ten long seconds when Rocky held her nose against his belly and gave her no air.

He finally pulled back a little. She took one quick, desperate breath, then he started moving, slow strokes that made loud glug-glug-glug sounds every time he pushed in.

The drug from earlier was still burning inside her body.  

Even while her mouth was full and she struggled to breathe, a hot, shameful feeling started growing between her legs again, making her thighs press together on their own.

Saliva dripped everywhere, shining on her chin and breasts.

The mangalsutra swung back and forth with every push, slapping wetly against her skin.  

Her gold bangles clinked with every movement, as if they were laughing at her twenty-five years of married life.

Sahil stepped closer.

Rocky pulled out with a loud, sloppy sound. Long strings of saliva stretched from her swollen lips to his cock before breaking.  

He turned her head and pushed her straight onto Sahil.

Sahil’s cock was almost as song as rocky's and curved, hitting the back of her throat at a different angle and making fresh glug-glug-glug noises.

Rocky took her right hand, wrapped it around his wet cock, closed her fingers, and made her move her hand up and down in time with Sahil’s slow thrusts.

She was being used from both sides now, mouth and hand, no pause. Her mind kept turning... I am Pritam’s mother.... I am Sunirmal Basu’s wife... Everyone in the colony respects me... And now two boys younger than my own son are using my mouth while the third films every wet sound.

Bishal moved the camera slowly around her, catching the stretched lips, saliva running down her chin onto her heavy breasts, mangalsutra swinging, throat working hard every time a cock slid deep.

On the wall behind them, the big convocation photo smiled, Pritam in his black gown, arm around his proud mother in her yellow saree, both of them happy in a life that was gone.

The cameras never stopped.

Rocky walked to Pritam’s old study table, picked up the chipped Bournvita glass, poured cheap vodka, added a few drops from the small brown bottle, swirled it once, and came back.

She was still on her knees, heavy breasts rising and falling fast, face wet with saliva.

Rocky crouched and pinched her nose.

“No… please… I have never touched alcohol…” Her voice was small and rough.

He tipped the glass anyway.

The burning liquid filled her mouth. She coughed, tried to turn away, but Sahil’s hand was already under her chin, rubbing her throat.

Gulp, gulp, gulp.... She swallowed everything.

When the glass was empty they lifted her heavy body and dropped her face-down onto Pritam’s narrow single bed. The mattress groaned under her weight.

Her breasts spilled out completely, nipples rubbing against the cool green sheet.  

Her round belly spread under her; her wide hips and still-red ass lifted high because the small bed couldn’t hold her flat.

Sahil knelt at the foot, grabbed her thick calves, and slowly pulled her legs back and wide apart until her alta-painted toes pointed away from each other.  

Her thighs shook, trying to close; he held them open.

Bishal stood in front of her face, hand-cam rolling, lens only inches from her eyes.

Rocky climbed on behind her. His knees pushed her thighs wider.  His belly rested on the hot, swollen shelf of her ass.  

His hands pulled her cheeks apart until the tiny, dark-pink hole was open again to the warm air.

One drop of spit, two, three.... His thumb rubbed slow circles while she cried softly into the pillow.

Rocky leaned close to her ear...“This is the price for the slap in the market, aunty.” Then the thick head of his dick pressed against that tiny hole.

She felt it, hot and huge.  Her breath stopped. Every muscle tried to close.

Rocky pushed.

The pressure grew until a raw scream tore out of her.

“No… no… please… it’s too big… take it out…”

He pulled back a little, then spat again... let another drop fall, then pushed again, slow and steady.

The head forced inside with a wet pop. Her scream turned into a wild cry. “Take it out… take it out… it’s splitting me…”

Rocky stayed still, let her shake, then started sliding deeper, slow and slow.

Every little bit brought a new cry..... “No… no… no… ohhh… stop… oh… oh…”

Halfway in he paused, let her breathe, then pushed the rest in one long slide until he was completely inside.

Her cry turned into a long, shaking moan.... “It’s… all inside… oh god… it’s all inside…”

Sahil’s arms shook now; her thick legs tried to close, but he pulled them wider.

Rocky started moving...  Long, deep strokes... Each push forward filled her and turned the cry into a broken moan.

The bed creaked loud.... Her heavy breasts slid back and forth on the sheet.... Her soft belly pressed deeper into the mattress... Her huge ass jiggled and clapped with every stroke, thap thap thap.

The drug and vodka mixed inside her.  The pain was still there, hot and sharp, but a warm, heavy feeling started growing low in her belly, making her hips move in tiny circles without her wanting them to.

Her moans came out soft and broken.... “Ohhh… ohhh… no… ohhh… no… ohhh…”

Rocky grabbed the thick rolls at her waist, hands sinking deep into the soft flesh, and moved faster.

Her moans grew louder, impossible to stop.... “Ohhh… ohhh… no… ohhh…”

She bit the pillow, but the sounds still leaked out. 

The camera held in Bishal's hand caught every cry, every moan, every shake of her heavy body on her son’s childhood bed.

Rocky stayed deep inside her ass, moving slow and steady. Minutes passed, time didn’t matter anymore. Her voice was rough, but the sounds kept coming.

Bishal had waited long enough.

He put the hand-cam on the table for a wide shot, knelt in front of her face grabbed her damp hair and pushed his thick cock between her swollen lips.

Now every moan turned into muffled, wet sounds.

The room filled with nothing but wet slapping, Rocky from behind, Bishal from the front, the small bed crying under her weight, her bangles clinking , her heavy breasts swinging, mangalsutra slapping the soaked sheet.

Rocky finally pulled out slowly.

Her hole stayed open for a long second, red and shining, before it slowly closed.

Her whole body shook, thighs trembling, breath coming in broken gasps.

They turned her over onto her back like a big, soft doll. She landed with a gasp. Both huge breasts spilled free, dark nipples hard and wet. Her belly shook; her sindoor-smeared face turned away.

A small, scared voice came out. “Please… I really need to pee… let me go to the toilet… please…”

[Momhunter123]

Part 9 - The SQUIRTING MACHINE

The three boys laughed low, their eyes hungry.

Sahil pulled the last knot of her petticoat loose and dragged the torn bra away from under her heavy breasts.  Everything fell to the floor.  

Vumika Basu lay completely naked, for the first time in her life in front of anyone except Sunirmal ... Her soft belly shaking, sindoor running down her cheeks with fresh sweat.

Sahil pushed her thick thighs wide apart until her mature pussy opened fully: swollen lips shining, dark curls soaked and dripping from the drug still burning inside her.

He pressed his long, curved cock against her and slid in with one slow, deep push.

Vumika’s back lifted high off the bed.... “Aaaaaahhhhh… oooohhh… so big… aah… aah… aah…”

Five long years empty, now filled deeper than she ever thought possible.

Rocky filmed close: her thick thighs spread, Sahil pounding, her heavy breasts jumping with every push, nipples wet and red.

The room was full of wet slapping sounds, the bed creaking, her helpless moans... “Aah… aah… ohhh… no… no… I need to pee… stop… stop…”

Sahil only smiled and went harder.

Her thighs shook, her belly tightened.... A heavy, burning fullness pressed down low while the drug turned every stroke into hot, melting pleasure.  

Both feelings grew bigger together, twisting tighter until she felt she would burst open in the most shameful way.

“Stop… please… I can’t hold it… no… noooo…”

Sahil pulled out.

Without any break Rocky shoved two fingers deep inside her, rubbed her clit fast and rough.

She thrashed, back high, breasts bouncing, nails digging into the wet sheet.... “Noooo… noooo… ohhhh… something is coming…”

Sahil gave her cheek two soft slaps and slammed back inside.

He fucked her hard and deep.... “Ohhh… ohhh… I can’t… I can’t…”

Ten more strong pushes and he pulled out.

The moment he left her, her body let go... A thick, clear jet shot high into the air, sparkling under the light.  

It was the first time in her life.... A mother, on her son’s bed, spraying like that.

Another jet came, stronger, splashing across Sahil’s belly, raining on the green sheet, hitting the camera in heavy drops.  

Another.. then another.  

Clear streams flew in long arcs, falling like hot rain, soaking everything.

Her hips jumped high, thighs shaking, breasts slapping together, mouth open in a long cry of pure shame.  

She felt filthy, broken, like the good mother she was had just died right there.

Rocky filmed close: drops hanging from the lens, her pussy still shooting smaller spurts, thick thighs trembling, the sheet black with wetness.

When it finally stopped she fell back, chest heaving, face turned away, tears running down with the smeared sindoor.

She had no time to rest. Bishal stood ready, cock hard again.  

He looked so thin, so small next to her, a boy who could be Pritam’s junior in college.

He tried to lift both thighs. They didn’t move.  

He laughed softly, took only her left thigh with both hands.  

His fingers sank deep into the warm, heavy flesh, dimples forming under his grip.  

He pulled and lifted, face turning red, thin arms shaking from the effort.  

Slowly, slowly the thick thigh rose until her knee pressed near her breast and her alta-painted foot pointed at the ceiling.

Bishal rested the heavy weight on his narrow shoulder, breathing hard, sweat already on his forehead.  

The soft flesh pressed warm against his neck and cheek, almost pushing him down, but he held it steady.

He leaned forward and slid inside her soaked pussy in one smooth push.

Vumika let out a shaky breath.  

Even this skinny boy was longer and thicker than Sunirmal had ever been.

He started slow, long, careful strokes at first, letting her feel every inch.  

Then he moved a little faster… then faster… then suddenly so fast his hips became a blur.

Short, sharp, rapid strokes hammered her like a machine.

“Aaaaaahhh… oooohhh… what… aaaah… aaaah… aaaah…” She could not believe it.  

This thin, weak-looking boy, younger than her own son, was fucking her harder and faster than she thought possible.

Her mouth stayed open, eyes wide in shock. Her heavy breasts jumped and slapped her chin and chest with every lightning-quick push.

The sound became quick, wet pap-pap-pap-pap-pap filling the room. Every stroke rubbed her clit, sent fire through her body.

The pressure came back even stronger: the heavy fullness pressing down, the drug making every touch burn sweet.  

Both feelings twisted together, growing hotter, darker, until she felt her whole lower belly would explode in shame.

“Ohhh… ohhh… slow… slow… I can’t… ohhhh…”

Bishal’s shoulder shook under the weight of her thick thigh, but he never slowed.

He kept hammering, face red, sweat dripping onto her bouncing breasts.

Until her back lifted high again, her thick thigh clamped hard on his shoulder, and a long, broken cry tore out of her throat.

He pulled out quickly.

The moment her pussy was empty, another massive gush exploded: hot, thick, mixed with everything inside her, spraying high and wild in a shining arc.

It splashed across Bishal’s chest, poured down her own thighs, soaked the ruined sheet even darker.

She fell back shaking hard, pussy pulsing, liquid still dripping from her swollen lips, feeling the deepest shame that a mother could lose control twice, right on her son’s childhood bed, in front of boys who were all juniors to Pritam.

[Momhunter123]

Share your thoughts about the story... Excited for next part?

[PELURI]

Dear momhunter...thank you for setting the story around Jadavpur University,  for i lived for 12 years at Thakurpukur Road, behind 8B busstand till 2003, before moving to Vizag....my fascination with things Bengali is boundless....immensely enjoyed interacting with them, arguing (could never win one but won me many friends), the festivals especially Durga Pujo, their kindness and empathy since I was living alone and struggling with the language...most enjoyable are the neighborhood football and cricket matches...also most missed is the Jadavpur fish market and Blue Lagoon restaurant....your story has opened the flood gates of flash back memories of those beautiful years of my life....thank you priyo bandu..

[Momhunter123]

Part 10 - The BREEDING

Rocky gave her no chance to breathe. His fist twisted hard in her tangled hair and he dragged her upright...“Get up, aunty. We’re not done yet.”

Her legs were weak and shaking. Thick cum still slid down her inner thigh in slow, warm lines.  

Naked, breasts swinging heavily, she stumbled after him across the cold floor.

He stopped her at Pritam’s old wooden study table, the one she still dusted every Sunday, the one that still held her son’s engineering books in perfect order.

Rocky bent her forward until her soft belly pressed against the sharp edge. The cool wood kissed her stiff nipples; a violent shiver ran through her whole body.

He spread her feet wide with his own and slammed into her pussy from behind without warning.

The first thrust lifted her onto her toes and stole every bit of air from her lungs....“Aaaaahhh… oh God…”

He started pounding, deep, punishing strokes that rocked the table forward with every loud slap of his hips against her ass.  

Her heavy breasts slid back and forth across the surface, nipples scbanging wood, mangalsutra clinking like a broken bell.

He wrapped her long hair tighter around his left fist, pulling her head back, then hooked a finger into the corner of her mouth and stretched her cheek like reins.  

She drooled helplessly around it, raw, broken moans spilling out—“nnghh… hnnngh… aahhh”..

He fucked her like that for five minutes, the table creaking and groaning, wet slaps echoing, his low groans mixing with her desperate cries.

He wanted more.

He pulled out, gripped her thick calf and ankle firmly, and placed her foot high on Pritam’s study chair.  

She leaned harder on the table, palms flat, legs now split wide, pussy stretched and dripping.

He drove back in.

The new angle was cruel. Every thrust hammered straight into her cervix, made her soft belly quiver against the table edge, made her thick thigh tremble on the chair.  

He kept her there even longer, slapping her ass hard with every few strokes, sharp cracks ringing out, her creamy screams growing louder and louder.

“Ohhh… ohhh… aaaahhh…”

Still not enough for him. He pulled out again, growled, lifted her right leg higher, this time placing her knee and the full soft weight of her thigh on the tabletop itself.  

She was half-climbing the table now, breasts crushed against scattered pens and papers, ass high in the air.

Vumika’s eyes went wide with shock. She had never imagined any woman could be taken in such a shameless position, but now she felt his cock deeper than ever, stretching her, hitting places that made her whole body shake.

Rocky seized her hair with both pairs of hands like cruel reins and started short, violent strokes.

Thap-thap-thap-thap-thap-thap…

The table rocked wildly, legs scbanging the floor, books sliding.  

Her loud, desperate moans mixed with his rough, animal groans, the wet slap of his hips against her ass growing faster and louder.

Two heavy textbooks slid off the edge and crashed to the floor just as Rocky turned completely wild.

He slapped her ass once more, hard... “That’s for the second slap you gave me years ago,” he growled. “Now I’m going to make you pregnant.”

Terror flooded her.... “No! Don’t do this to me… don’t destroy my purity... I'm a mother...!"

But her scream only made him slam in one final time and hold.

Rocky felt his balls tighten, then the rush, thick, heavy pulse after heavy pulse shooting straight into her womb, each one hotter and stronger than the last, emptying everything he had deep inside her.  

Vumika felt every single spurt like liquid fire pouring into the deepest part of her body, the place that once carried Pritam, wave after wave, endless, heavy, marking her forever.

Her pussy clenched around him again and again, milking him against her will.

When he finally pulled out, a thick, creamy river gushed from her swollen pussy.  

Bishal was already there, camera inches from her lips, filming every drop as it spilled out and ran down her thighs.

She stayed bent over the table, chest heaving, body trembling, cum still leaking in steady pulses onto Pritam’s ruined books.

Rocky let go of her hair. Her head dropped forward, hair sticking to her sweaty, tear-streaked face.

The room was quiet except for her ragged breathing. Her eyes drifted to the wall. Pritam’s convocation photo...Her son’s proud smile....Her own face, bright and modest in yellow silk, the perfect mother.

That woman was gone forever. A low, animal sound escaped her throat, half sob, half scream.  

She tried to hide her face in her arms, but her body was too heavy, too used.

Rocky’s voice cut through the silence, cold and bored... “Hurry up. Sir will be home soon.”

Sahil stepped forward, grabbed her upper arms and shoulders, and dragged her off the table.  

Her legs nearly gave way, but he held her up and half-carried her back to the bed. He pushed her down onto her back.

She landed heavily on the soaked green sheet, breasts spilling wide, belly quivering.

She tried to cover herself, arms crossing her chest, thighs pressing together, but Sahil was already beside her.

He lay on her right side, slid his right arm under her right knee, and lifted.  

Her thick, heavy thigh rose high until her toes pointed straight at the ceiling.

Everything was exposed again: swollen pussy lips shining, loosened, still leaking Rocky’s thick load.

Because Rocky had already opened her so wide, Sahil’s cock slid in smooth and easy, filling her back hole completely in one slow push.

Vumika’s breath caught, then turned into loud, helpless moans, long, broken, rising and falling with every deep stroke. “Ohhhh… aaaaahhh… oh God… ohhhh… so deep… aaaahhh…”

He started moving, long, deep strokes, lying right beside her, one arm keeping her heavy thigh high, the other hand sometimes squeezing her breast hard.

The bed creaked and groaned... Her free leg kicked helplessly on the mattress....Her breasts bounced and swayed wildly.... Her belly slapped softly against his with every thrust.

Bishal knelt at the foot of the bed, camera pointed between her spread cheeks.

The drug still burned in her blood. Pleasure she hated rolled through her in waves.  Her eyes rolled back, tongue slipped out, drool shining on her lips as moan after moan spilled free.

Sahil’s rhythm grew harder, faster. Her lifted thigh trembled violently in his grip. Her whole body jiggled with each upward slam.

Finally he groaned, buried himself deep inside that huge, soft ass, cock disappearing completely, and let go.

Sahil felt the first thick pulse leave him like a bullet, then another, another, each one surging out with force, pumping hot and heavy into the deepest part of her ass, claiming every inch he had stretched open.  

Vumika felt the heat bloom suddenly inside her, thick jets shooting far up into her body, wave after heavy wave, filling her back passage until she was sure she could feel the warmth spreading through her belly.

When he finally pulled out slow, another thick, creamy river gushed from her open butthole, running down her crack , soaking the green sheet in a dark, spreading stain.

Bishal kept filming every drop while Vumika lay trembling, one leg still held high and shaking, eyes half-closed, tongue hanging out, chest heaving with silent, hopeless sobs.

Above them, Pritam’s convocation photo smiled down, mother and son forever frozen in a world that no longer existed.

[Momhunter123]

Comment if you really want this story to be continued for season 2.

Otherwise part 11 is going to be the last part .

[PELURI]

the story began well....somehow, veered off to become crude and distasteful...may be the target audience are some wild teenagers....the pics too are garish n wild ...nothing to get aroused....to complement the impressive writting skills of the author, new characters may be introduced with close to real life situations, to make the story appeal to larger audiences....otherwise can end here....

[Momhunter123]

Part 11 - The SACRED BATH

Before Vumika can even catch her breath, Bishal is already in front of her.

His hand slides into her wet, tangled hair, twists tight, and pulls. She has no strength left. Her heavy body slides off the bed and drops to her knees on the warm wooden floor with a soft, wet sound. Her thick thighs spread wide so she doesn’t fall forward, breasts hanging heavy, nipples dark and stiff, fresh cum still leaking from both her used holes in slow, shining lines down the inside of her legs.

Bishal lifts the handycam and points it down at her face, so close she can almost feel the lens. He steps closer. The swollen head of his cock brushes her lips once, leaving a sticky trail. Her mouth opens on its own.

He pushes in slowly.

His cock is thick but not huge. It fills her mouth completely, stretching her lips, pressing against her tongue until the head touches the back of her throat. She gags softly, eyes watering. He just keeps it there for a moment, letting her taste him, letting her feel the weight.

Then he starts moving, slow at first, sliding in and out, using her mouth like it belongs to him now. Wet, sloppy sounds fill the room. Saliva drips from her lips, runs down her chin, falls in steady drops onto her heavy breasts and slides over the mangalsutra.

He goes faster. His grip tightens. Her head moves with his rhythm. Tears roll down her cheeks. She makes soft,  muffled whimpers that vibrate around him.

Finally he pushes forward one last time and comes.

The first hot jet shoots into her mouth. She swallows hard, choking. The second fills her mouth until thick white spills from the corners and runs down her chin. He pulls out slowly and lets the rest splash across her face, heavy ropes landing on her smeared sindoor, her cheeks, her swollen lips, dripping from her eyelashes, sliding down her neck in slow, sticky lines.

She stays on her knees, mouth open, cum dripping from her lips in long threads.

Sahil quietly lifts the round wall mirror and holds it in front of her.

Vumika looks.

The woman staring back is a stranger, wild hair stuck to her forehead, sindoor smeared like blood, kajal washed away in black rivers down red cheeks, lips glossy and stretched, thick white streaks covering her face, hanging from her chin in shining strings. Her eyes are empty. The proud mother from Pritam’s photo is gone.

Rocky steps close, phone flashlight blazing bright. The harsh white light freezes everything: her ruined face, mouth still dripping, breasts rising and falling fast. The camera clicks again and again.

Then Rocky speaks, voice low and cold.

“You slapped me in the market that day. Now you’ll remember.”

He unzips.

The first hot stream hits her forehead like a shock of fire.

Vumika freezes. Her mind goes blank. This can’t be real. Not this. Not on her face, her hair, pouring into her eyes, running over her sindoor and washing it pale pink down her temples. She tries to turn away, but there is nowhere to go. The sharp smell fills her nose. The warm liquid slides into her open mouth, salty and bitter. She tastes it. She tastes everything.

In one last desperate act to save her face, she throws herself backward. She lands flat on her back with a loud, wet splash, thighs falling open wide, arms limp at her sides, completely exposed on the piss-soaked floor.

The stream follows her, now pouring straight over her face, into her hair, her eyes, her mouth. She turns her head side to side, but it keeps coming, soaking her completely, running down her throat, between her breasts, over her belly, between her spread thighs.

Rocky moves the stream slowly down her trembling body, over her heaving breasts, her soft belly, finally settling between her open legs.

Sahil steps up next. His stream lands on her chest, warm and heavy, pooling around the mangalsutra before spilling over both breasts, running in warm rivers around her dark nipples and down her sides.

Bishal takes the last place between her spread thighs. His powerful stream hits her swollen pussy, washing the mixed cum away in cloudy swirls, pouring over her open asshole, running between her cheeks and joining the growing yellow lake beneath her. He moves it slowly up and down her inner thighs, her knees, her feet, until every inch of her skin shines wet.

She lies there, legs wide open, body shaking, arms limp in the puddle, piss dripping from her hair, her lashes, her lips. She doesn’t even try to cover herself anymore.

When they finish, the sharp smell clings to her skin, her hair, every breath she takes.

Rocky zips up, crouches beside her ruined body, and speaks one last time, voice quiet and final.

“You wore your pride like a crown, aunty.  You spoke to your husband like he was beneath you.  You ruled your house with an iron hand.  You slapped me once in the market and thought that made you powerful.  Now look at you, naked, soaked, legs spread in our piss.  This is what your arrogance earned.  From tonight, every time you feel the urge to raise your voice, every time you want to command instead of obey, this taste will flood your mouth again.  You will remember this moment.  You will remember who you really are now.  Stay quiet.  Stay small.  Or we will make you smaller still.”

The front door closes softly behind them...Silence.The room is empty except for the slow drip from her body and the faint ticking of the wall clock.

She lies there a long time, staring up at the ceiling, at Pritam’s smiling photo that looks down on her like a silent witness.

Guilt crashes over her in waves, heavier than the piss cooling on her skin....For every time she silenced Sunirmal....  For every time she made him feel small in his own house....  For every sharp word, every proud look, for that one slap in the market...  For the arrogance that once made her feel tall. Now she is nothing.
But she cannot be weak.  Not even in front of her husband. Never again.

With trembling arms she pushes herself up from the yellow lake. Piss pours from her hair, her breasts, her thighs. She gathers the soaked petticoat and torn bra, presses them to her chest. She pulls the dripping green bedsheet from Pritam’s bed and wraps it around her naked body like a broken sari.

One last look at the photo. She meets her son’s painted eyes and whispers inside her heart,  Forgive your mother, baba. I will carry this alone till my last breath.

Then she stands, back straight, chin high, eyes dry and harder than stone, and walks barefoot through the wet footprints she leaves behind, carrying the ruined sheet and every drop of shame with her.

The bathroom door closes. The lock clicks. The shower roars.

Hot water beats down, washing piss and cum and tears into the drain. But the shame stays. It will stay forever, locked behind the proud, perfect smile she will wear when Sunirmal walks through the door, when she serves him tea, when she speaks softly from now on, when she bows her head just enough, when she greets the world tomorrow and every tomorrow after.

The old Vumika is dead on that floor. The new one stands from the filth, silent, humbled, and will never let anyone, not even her husband, see what she has become.

[Umavictor32]

Even if whole world says this story is weird...beg you please don't stop writting
It's superb...but one request I have....real revenge or degrade don't remain in pissing on woman or fucking her...that's also needed...but real revenge will be when the same woman who slapped you does all cheap things in the market where she earlier slapped you ..she piss in the same place ....become a prostitute and do brothel business...that's when real revenge happens... transform a decent woman to slut by drugs or brainwash or hypnotize or anything....tats real beauty

[Momhunter123]

Even if whole world says this story is weird...beg you please don't stop writting
It's superb...but one request I have....real revenge or degrade don't remain in pissing on woman or fucking her...that's also needed...but real revenge will be when the same woman who slapped you does all cheap things in the market where she earlier slapped you ..she piss in the same place ....become a prostitute and do brothel business...that's when real revenge happens... transform a decent woman to slut by drugs or brainwash or hypnotize or anything....tats real beauty

I'm not sure I'm going to write 2nd part or not , but If I write it will cover such public humiliation ideas.

[Batni123]

Wowwww